A dish best served cold

14

Over the next 24 hours, the Headmaster was quite a busy man, making fire calls, and sending out orders to his agents in the Order of the Phoenix, all in an attempt to determine the most likely target for the reported attack. It was true that the Order's own spy had heard nothing about it, but that meant very little now a days. Snape had, of late, been left out of the loop on many things because of his obligation as a teacher at Hogwarts. He was without a doubt still in good standing with the Dark Lord, but his uses were limited at the present time.

Hogsmeade was the most likely target, with Diagon Alley and the Ministry a close second and third. The Aurors were distributed accordingly, including going out to some of the smaller Wizarding communities across the country. It was a tense dinner on Thursday, because despite all attempts to keep it quiet, the potential danger had reached the ears of most students. The presence of some Aurors hadn't helped squash the rumors in the slightest.

Harry had called an emergency meeting of the PDC to go over plans on how to handle things if the attack should be at Hogwarts. It was doubtful, but it was important that people know where they need to be, considering there were a number of students that didn't have the skills to defend themselves against Death Eaters. Truth be told, even the kids in the Practical Defense Club couldn't fight a Death Eater, but it would be strength in numbers (hopefully) and it was better than nothing at all.

As Thursday evening rolled around, the student body was tense, many students eating much less than they normally would, simply because their nerves wouldn't allow them. Tight stomachs made poor receptacles for large amounts of food. Force it, though, and there would be a mess to clean.

The staff was on edge, and the Aurors were roaming the halls with wands out, prepared for action. By the time dinner was finished at 6:30, people were getting antsy. Harry included. He still couldn't figure out how in the world this had been leaked. It certainly hadn't come from him. The only possible place was Slytherin House, where the talk of an attack had originated in the first place. But at this point, it didn't matter, because forewarned was forearmed. Aurors in the hall would have tipped someone off at some point.

Students were ushered back to their houses after dinner, and told to stay in the common rooms or beds for the rest of the evening. If there was a reason they needed to leave, they were to inform the guard at the entrance, who would decide if the reason was good enough, and call for an escort.

As the night went on, being in the safety of their houses calmed the nerves of most students, and by midnight, most had dismissed the idea of a coming assault with much relief. Sleep did not come easily to many that night, but people slept none-the-less.

By the next morning, people were talking about what had, or more importantly, hadn't, happened. Wondering why there had been no reports of any deaths, and immensely grateful all in one thought.

Harry had looked to Draco Malfoy right away, trying to get some sort of answer, but the boy just shrugged and shook his head. If a person cared to look, which most didn't, they would see that he was no longer seated at the center of the table where he would hold the attention of most of his housemates. His father's, and subsequently his, fall from grace had put him on the outs with most of Slytherin.

Malfoy Senior, a month before Hogwarts had resumed classes in September, had gone to withdraw money from his vault to give Voldemort for the cost of potions that were required to heal the man's body after the ritual to return him from the dead. He hadn't been able to get them from his automatic withdrawal bag, and was required to physically go to Gringott's to sort out the problem. Of course, when he got there, he had been informed that he no longer had any money, and that the Beaufoy heir had reclaimed their spot as rightful Head of both families. The man had nearly had a conniption, but with the lobby full of other people, he held his head high, stayed calm, left the bank, and apparated away.