Desperate Measures

1. Prologue

--HPDM--

Harry had managed to fall down the stairs of Grimmauld Place and quite spectacularly scatter his belongings everywhere. The group of students and their – in Harry's opinion – much too overprotective and paranoid guards had planned on arriving at King's Cross station a mere ten minutes before the departure of the Hogwarts Express to – in Harry's opinion – unnecessarily minimize Harry's exposure to the "dangers" of the outside world.

Said group of students had also been running late and would have been lucky to make it a mere five minutes before departure. One might have considered this unfortunate, unless, of course, one had been responsible for all the subtle little delays that had added up to those five minutes. Which Harry had been. He had also been responsible for his tumble down the stairs and for his trunk having been not quite closed properly.

Harry wanted to miss the train.

As he lay on the floor with a new headache – from the cut he hadn't expected to get from a heretofore unknown sharp step, a bruised hip – from the umbrella stand he hadn't expected to fall heavily and unceremoniously onto him, and people exclaiming about him – because Merlin forbid they react calmly, he thought that perhaps he had been a bit too efficient in his subterfuge.

But, then again, they were missing the train for certain now and he would be healed so it was all fine.

Harry wanted to miss the train because he didn't want his secret to get out anywhere but in front of the entire student population. He didn't want his secret to be covered up for his own good, for the greater good, for the good of the war or the people or the student population or for little fluffy kittens everywhere. His soon to be not-secret would not be hidden and the only way he could be certain that it wasn't suppressed was by revealing it to hundreds of people all at once. Not even the Headmaster would be able to obliviate everybody before word got out. True, his secret would have gotten out on the train, but he wanted everyone to see for themselves, not to hear a second-, third-, or fourth-hand guaranteed-to-be-wrong rumor.

A few knocks were completely worth it to get what he wanted.

It had taken half an hour for someone to fetch Madam Pomfrey to check him over and heal his wounds and to gather and repack his trunk. The remainder of the day had been spent at Grimmauld Place in leisure until they were portkeyed to the Headmaster's office fifteen minutes before the feast. Unlike previous years, Harry didn't waste any time trying to figure out why, exactly, if they were so concerned about his safety getting to the Hogwarts Express, he hadn't been taken to Hogwarts by portkey before.

As he and his friends wandered down to the feast, he made a bet with himself over how long after the sorting it would take before all hell broke loose. If it took more than fifteen minutes he would actually do all his schoolwork this year on top of everything else. Obviously, given what he knew his year was going to be like, he was absolutely positive it wouldn't take that long. Neither of the affected students were known for their patience and he figured they would both be up and looking for him within seconds of the last sorting.

He was ready for them, though. Just let one of them lay a hand upon him without his permission...

All through the sorting he unobtrusively observed Draco Malfoy, his same age nemesis, and Edward Conway, an even-tempered seventh year Ravenclaw. Both were sniffing the air in an attempt to locate the scent that was, by now, permeating the air of the hall. Even the scent of food wouldn't mask it now.

Immediately after the last first year took her seat at the Ravenclaw table, Draco and Edward were up and heading towards their respective Housemasters. Such an unheard of display first caused silence and then twitters and whispers. The display of shock on the teachers' and Headmaster's faces only increased the clamor.