May Day Eve

mia fitzpatrick

Rating: PG13
Genres: Humor, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 4
Published: 15/11/2003
Last Updated: 26/11/2003
Status: in_progress

It's the night of the Beltane festival and the students of Hogwarts drown themselves in legends, tradition and rituals. But soon, our heroes find out that the night has more than legends, tradition and rituals in store for them. Snogs, mirrors, mystery and saucy wenches abound, and it all happens on May day eve. H/H, mainly, D/G, slightly and R/guess who.

Chapters

1. Legends

2. Reflections

3. Compromising Positions

4. More Compromising Positions

5. Laceving Flies and Saucy Wenches

6. Snogs and Then Some

7. Twin Mirrors

8. Twins

9. Bottom Dwellers

10. untitled

1. Legends

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

Author's Notes: I think I need a new audience :)

Chapter One : Legends

Harry

There was much pandemonium inside the quarters of a group of sixth year boys at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was the eve of May, and tomorrow there is no need for early morning wake up calls, they can stay as late as they want and not have to worry about their classes the following morning. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley focused all their attention on a chessboard that was slowly becoming devoid of white chess pieces that belonged to the boy with black rimmed glasses and beautiful green eyes. The two boys roommates were all huddled in a corner, discussing what seemed to be a very important matter

“That’s not true, I mean, I’ve never heard of that before,” Neville cried, prompting Ron and Harry to turn to them.

“What’s not true?” asked Ron intriguingly.

“Well, Seamus here, has some sort of story about May day eve, but I heard another version,” Dean explained.

“Well, what are you going to believe, the muggle version or the wizards version?” Seamus challenged.

“Well, I’ve never heard either,” Neville protested.

“Will one of you tell us the story first?” Harry asked confused.

Seamus shifted sides to face him and began, “There’s this legend about a banshee who tried looking into the future through a mirror on a May day eve a thousand years ago, but she made a mistake and confused the spells she was supposed to use and stay away from, and there so happens to be a devil residing inside the mirror. That spell happened to be just what the demon needed so he can claim her soul and take her back with him as his wife, for all eternity. The banshee was allowed to peek outside the mirror to see the outside world, but only once a year on the moment she was captured. And so every year, before May first, at the stroke of Midnight, when you look at the mirror, you will see the banshee’s burnt face and body, flowing with pus and disentangled skin because of prolonged stay in the underworld, crying in pain and pleading for help. Scary, huh?”

“Sounds like a cheesy urban legend to me,” answered Harry, shrugging slightly.

“Wherever did you get that crap, Seamus?” Ron chimed in.

“You don’t believe me, why don’t you go see for yourself?” he dared the two boys.

“I’m not going to risk losing points for Gryffindor and getting detention over some stupid story,” Harry answered incredulously.

“I say you’re just scared. The Boy Who Lived is scared of a harmless banshee, little cowards,” Seamus taunted, a naughty glint in his eyes.

Ron stood abruptly, upsetting the chess pieces on the bed, his face flushed and ready to lunge at Seamus, “Who’s a coward, we’ll show you just how much crap there is to that story, you sorry git!!” he screamed as he made his way to the door, “Come on Harry.”

Harry was about to protest, but Ron was already outside the room and knew it was pointless trying to stop him. And he wasn’t about to leave his friend wandering around the Hogwarts castle alone. With much effort, he followed him outside the room and through the portrait hole.

“You know, you could’ve just ignored him,” Harry advised Ron as soon as they were out of earshot.

“That little prick thinks he’s such a hotshot, we’ll show him, we can bash the mirror on his head when we come back,” Ron said

“He was just teasing, you should learn to control your temper,” said Harry, “Do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Actually no, do you have any idea where we could find a mirror in this place,” he asked, stopping a moment.

“There’s this big one on the first floor, inside the room beside the Great Hall, Hermione and I came across it one night –“ Harry was interrupted by Ron.

“What were you doing running around at night looking for a room with Hermione?” he asked suggestively.

“Oh please, we needed a quiet space so we could study,” Harry answered, waving his hand in the air. Ron noticed Harry’s ears turning beet red but said nothing more and just smiled back.

They went on walking until they reached the bottom of the stairs. As soon as Harry saw the room he was referring to, he quickly pointed this out to Ron, but Ron was too busy craning his neck towards the first floor landing.

“What the? No, it can’t be,” he muttered to himself.

“Ron, what is it?” Harry asked perplexed.

“You go inside the room, I’ll meet you there, I just need to confirm something,” he told Harry with his back as he quickly sprinted up the stairs with his long, lanky legs. Harry, who was too startled to react, figured he might as well do as he was told.

He walked once more towards the room. As soon he reached it, he turned the knob and opened the door. He didn’t think he was going to see anything, but he practically fainted in shock when he saw a figure in the darkness that was illuminated by a single candle raised to its face. He would’ve been less surprised if it were a banshee, but instead, he saw the most beautiful angel looking right back at him from the mirror.

2. Reflections

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

Chapter Two : Reflections

Hermione

Hermione Granger sat Indian style in the middle of her four-poster bed desperately trying to read The Standard Book of Spells : Grade Six which was nearing impossible as her roommates chatter progressed along with the night. The only other person that was sitting in silence was Lavender Brown, which was quite a surprise as her voice sounds like it has an automatic ‘Sonorus’ spell on it. But her silence will soon be broken. While the three other girls in the room, Parvati, Kelly, and Donna talked away, Lavender suddenly stood up, put both hands on her hips and called their attention.

"Listen up girls, including you Hermione," she said, "You know what day it is today, don’t you?"

"Yes we do, we’ve been talking about it since we were twelve, and we never had the courage to follow through with it," answered Parvati.

"I’m sorry, but I’m not sure if I know what you girls are talking about?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Girl, haven’t you ever hear of May day eve?" Lavender said, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

Hermione tried to recall if she has ever come across anything that had anything to do with May day eve to no avail. She shook her head slowly, and Lavender propped herself up on Hermione’s bed.

"Well, they say May day eve is a night of divination and a night of lovers, and those who cared might peer into a mirror and behold the face of whoever it was they were fated to marry," Lavender finished, smiling longingly into space.

"I’m sorry, but I don’t quite believe in Divination," Hermione answered, dismissing the story with a wave of her hand and going back to feeble attempts of reading her book.

"Hermione, you're no fun," Lavender responded pouting.

"I never said I was," she said.

"Aren’t you even interested in trying it, don’t you want to know who you’re fated to be with?" she asked temptingly.

"In a word, no,"

"Oh, come on, we’re all going to do it," Parvati joined in, "Please? You rarely hang out with us, let’s all do something fun together."

As much as Hermione hated doing anything with her roommates, she felt compelled to have some female influence in her life, even if it had to be these females. And besides, she was just a tad bit tired of going around with Harry and Ron all the time, doing whatever it was boys their age liked. It would be a nice change to do something silly and girly like this for once. Who knows, she might turn out to enjoy herself.

"So, how does it work?" she asked, a smile playing across her lips.

Parvati and Lavender clapped gleefully and the four girls hopped onto Hermione’s bed.

"Okay," Lavender, who was apparently the mastermind to all this, started, "We go one by one and use the mirror downstairs –"

"Wait, why don’t we just use that?" interrupted Parvati, pointing to the dresser by the wall.

"Because, you’re supposed to be alone, and it should be dark," Lavender answered.

"Oh, okay," the other answered satisfied.

"Moving along, we’re going to use the mirror in the room downstairs, beside the Great Hall. It has this big round oak mirror, which is really beautiful and the perfect mirror to view your husband to be. You all know that room, right?" she asked. As soon as she saw everyone nod, she continued, "We have to carry one lighted candle, come up to the mirror, close our eyes and say the spell ‘Mirror, Mirror, show to me, him whose woman I will be’ –"

"That doesn’t sound like a spell to me," Hermione thought loudly.

"Do you want to do this, or did you just want to protest?" Lavender said, her patience slowly decreasing.

"Sorry, go on," Hermione said, grinning sheepishly.

"After you say the spell, you open your eyes, and you will see on your upper left shoulder the face of the man you are to spend your life with."

At this, all the girls sighed in unison, which greatly disturbed Hermione.

"So who goes first?" asked Lavender.

"Why don’t you, it was your idea?" said Kelly, as the writer felt the need to give her a speaking line.

"I already explained everything, and then you’re going to make me come down alone first," Lavender said.

"Alright, alright," Hermione cut in, "Why don’t I go first, since I’m the only one who has the guts anyway."

None of them protested and they let Hermione get up and put a pink, fluffy robe on. Lavender went to her trunk and quickly took out a candle that was already burning.

"Here, you’ll need this," she said as she handed her the candle. Hermione took it and started to walk towards the door. When she walked outside, she almost tripped over a figure that was standing by the door.

"Ginny! What are you doing here?" she asked in surprise.

"Just standing, where are you going?" she answered, her eyes looking at all directions but Hermione’s.

"I just need to do something," Hermione answered, not wanting to elaborate.

"Can I come with you?" Ginny asked all of a sudden.

"I really need to be alone," Hermione explained.

"I’ll stay outside the room," at this outburst, Hermione eyed her suspiciously, "I mean, I won’t stay where you are," she continued.

"I suppose you could come," Hermione gave in, thinking that she really didn’t feel like walking around the castle alone. They made their way outside the portrait hole and began to walk towards the staircase, when without warning, a figure with silver blond-hair appeared from a secluded corner of the walls.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed in a whisper.

"Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Mudblood. Why, aren’t you supposed to be in bed, tut tut tut, what a bad image you’re setting upon your fellow prefects," he drawled, nodding at Ginny.

"Well, you’re out of bed as well," Hermione retorted.

"But I’m not up for Head Girl," he replied.

"I’m quite sure you’re not, unless there’s something about you we should know?" Hermione snickered and Ginny snorted.

Malfoy’s cheeks colored, but he quickly regained his composure and prepared to deliver his final blow, "I’m guessing McGonagall won’t be too happy to see her prized student prowling around at night, yet again, the last time you were caught, I heard you and Potter were going around looking for a room," he smirked.

Ginny gasped in surprise, raising her eyebrows at Hermione inquisitively. Hermione shook her head vehemently, "We were finding a room to study in."

"Study what?" Draco chimed suggestively.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione answered with impatience.

"I’m thinking we should all make a visit to Filch’s office. So, what’s it going to be Granger?" he said in a smug tone.

"What do you want?"

"Well, why don’t you go on about your business and you can leave Weasley here with me," he said.

"Are you insane? I’m not going to leave Ginny alone with you, we’re just going back to our dormitories, thank you," she said, turning to leave.

"Oh, Fil—" Ginny’s hand flew up to cover Malfoy’s mouth stopping him from going any further.

"Hermione, why don’t you just go where you’re supposed to go, I’ll be alright," Ginny said.

"It’s really not that important," Hermione began.

"It doesn’t matter, he’s bent on telling on us," Ginny said, clucking her head at Malfoy.

"She’s right Granger, doesn’t matter what you do, I’ll tell on you if you don’t do as I say," he said.

"The next time you’re looking for the snitch, just grab your arse," Hermione replied staring venomously at him.

"Wit will get you nowhere Granger, run along now," he smiled.

"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine," Ginny said.

"I’ll be back soon," Hermione called.

"Take all your time," Malfoy answered.

Hermione turned to go reluctantly. She felt rather stupid going in front of a mirror to see her future husband while Ginny was in Malfoy’s greasy hands. ‘Oh well,’ she thought ‘As soon as I get this over with I’m coming back for her.’

She soon found the room she was looking for. For a brief moment, she was reminded of how familiar that room was, but it did not matter at the moment. She reached out for the knob and turned. She could barely make out the contents of the room in the dark, but the reflection coming from the mirror and the light coming from the candle was enough to guide her. She carefully made her way to the oval-shaped mirror that had nymph carvings on its oak frame. It stretched to the floor showing her entire length.

She went up to the mirror, closed her eyes and lifted the candle to her face, "What was it again, oh yes, Mirror, Mirror, show to me, him whose woman I will be." She slowly opened her eyes expecting to see air behind her left shoulder, but she had to suck in a lot of oxygen, lest she pass out, at the sight that greeted her eyes. In the mirror standing behind her left shoulder was the image of Harry.

(A/N: Lavender's description of May Day Eve as well as the spell mentioned were taken from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve'. I am forever indebted to him for giving me the idea for this fiction. Thanks to Alcfeniel, the always reliable beta.)

3. Compromising Positions

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

Chapter Three : Compromising Positions

Draco

"Darn that Pansy," he thought, "she should have told me about that before we did anything."

Draco Malfoy clambered up the steps that lead to the second floor of the Hogwarts castle. Being a Slytherin meant that he knew Snape had another private storage filled with rare ingredients for rare potions, and he also knew that that was easier to break into. But he was a bit nervous about what he was about to do. Despite his status as Snape’s favorite student, he wasn’t really very good in Potions. He was about to try and cook up a very difficult potion, one that cured "Darn you Pansy," he thought again. He could easily ask for help, but it was too embarrassing.

Once he reached the second floor corridor, he heard the tiny shuffling of two pairs of feet. He quickly hid himself behind a post, peering his head out slightly to see who was coming. It was so dark that he could barely make out the figures that were walking towards him, all he could see was brown and that all too familiar bright shade of red, "Granger and the weasel boy?" he thought, "But I thought she was with Potter." The figures came closer and closer, "Too slender, ahh, the weasel boy’s sister."

"I wonder what little miss perfect and Potty’s disciple are up to?" Just then, an idea came to him. He needed help, and he was going to get it.

Ginny

It was pretty hard to listen through thick wood doors, but Ginny’s ears were already trained for that chore after years of practicing. She didn’t really fancy listening in on other people’s conversations, but when you want to know something, and the information wasn’t being offered to you, then you’re going to have to work for it. She overheard the May day eve story from Lavender and Parvati earlier, but the specifics were lacking. "What, Hermione’s going through with it? Sometimes I don’t know what that woman is thinking," she thought, "Oh no, she’s coming, better hide."

"Ginny! What are you doing here?" Too late.

"Just standing, where are you going?"

"I just need to do something,"

Wait, maybe I could come along with her and try it afterwards. "Can I come with you?"

"I really need to be alone,"

"I’ll stay outside the room," Oh drat, me and my stupid mouth. "I mean, I won’t stay where you are."

"I suppose you could come," Whew, I hope she didn’t notice anything.

They made their way outside the portrait hole and began to walk towards the staircase when without warning, a figure with silver blond-hair appeared from a secluded corner of the walls.

"Malfoy!" Hermione exclaimed in a whisper.

Ron

"Darn that Seamus, I’m going to show that short little bas--"

"Do you have any idea where we’re going?"

"Actually no, do you have any idea where we could find a mirror in this place," he asked, stopping a moment. "Silver and red, there’s got to be something wrong with that."

"There’s this big one on the first floor, inside the room beside the Great Hall, Hermione and I came across it one night--" Wait, did he just slip that he’s been running around with Hermione? Those two think they’re so clever.

"What were you doing running around at night looking for a room with Hermione?" he asked suggestively.

"Oh please, we needed a quiet space so we could study," Harry answered, waving his hand in the air. I’ll bet my Viktor Krum autographed parchment that you were doing anything but studying.

They went on walking until they reached the bottom of the stairs. Just then he remembered the flash of silver and red quickly dashing out of their way. "Holy cow! Those two colors are only supposed to come that close when I’m punching Malfoy’s face out!"

"What the? No, it can’t be," he said, trying to look back where he first saw the figures. "Ginny and Malfoy? No, but still, I have to sort this out."

"You go inside the room, I’ll meet you there, I just need to confirm something," he told Harry as he quickly sprinted back up the stairs. "There has got to be a better explanation for this." he thought

Draco

"Gerry," he started.

"The name’s Ginny, you moron," she snapped.

"Yes of course, so Ginny, I understand that you’re taking up Advanced Potions. I’ve always admired intelligence in a woman--"

"Cut to the chase," Ginny snapped again, this time with raised eyebrows.

"I need you to help work on a potion," he said, relieved that he didn’t need to put on the old Malfoy charm, otherwise, she’d be all over him and he just can’t handle that right now.

"Why would I help you?" she said laughing slightly.

"Because what’s the point of taking you hostage? Now come on, let’s go to the potions dungeon, we can work there," he said in an imperative manner.

"No, we’re not moving, Hermione’s coming back here immediately and she’ll be worried if she doesn’t find us here," Ginny said, standing indignantly.

"Really, she’s probably snogging Potter’s head off right now and they both probably don’t remember the time, the place, and much less you," Draco said smirking.

"Oh please, Hermione and Harry are not together that way, you saw her, she said so," Ginny countered.

"Remember that night I was talking about earlier, I overheard McGonagall and I got the impression that they were in a very compromising position," he said.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, she said, and I quote, ‘They were in a very compromising position,’" he said, smirking again.

"There are lots of compromising positions," she retorted.

"You tell me," Malfoy suddenly had a disturbing smile on his face, which reminded Ginny of her perverted Uncle Shelby.

Ginny shook her head at the memory, "How do I know you’re not just making that up?"

"Why would I lie to you?"

Ginny just crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at Malfoy in answer.

"Oh yeah," he said. They suddenly heard a pair of shuffling feet once more.

"Does that happen a lot around here?" Malfoy said, slightly exasperated.

But Ginny’s face was suddenly washed over with panic, "I would know that sound anywhere, that’s Ron."

"Not good," Draco quickly pulled her back behind the post, pulling her closer and putting one hand over her mouth. As soon as they saw Ron and Harry go down the stairs their tensed muscles relaxed a bit.

"Don’t worry, I’m not about to let my brother know that I’ve been talking to you," she whispered, "Nothing like adrenaline rush to get you going, huh?" she said with a wink.

Malfoy chose to ignore the insinuation, "We can’t stay here, so you might as well help me."

"Why didn’t you just ask Hermione?"

"There is nothing that that woman will not share with Potter, and I’m not really keen on the idea of scarface knowing about this."

"Fine, but I have to leave a note telling Hermione that I’m all right," Ginny insisted.

"Fine, whatever, let’s just get out of here, we can use the backstairs, and we have to drop by somewhere anyway," he said.

They toddled off silently, as they were walking, Ginny turned to Draco, "What do you need the potion for anyway?"

4. More Compromising Positions

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

Chapter Four : More Compromising Positions Hermione

“Oh My God! Harry?” Hermione exclaimed, unable to contain the shock in her voice.

“Hermione?!” Harry answered with an equal amount of astonishment.

“Did Lavender say anything about the reflection talking back?” she thought.

“Hermione, what are you doing here?” Harry asked again

She turned to look at the real Harry, not the reflection, “Is it really you?”

He scratched his head, “Yes, it’s really me. Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, it’s just that, I was supposed to see – oh never mind!” she said all of a sudden. He noticed her turn magenta.

“You were supposed to see what?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“What are you doing here?” she shot back

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” he negotiated.

“You go first,” she said.

“I asked first, so you get to answer first,” he said.

“Fine, I was doing a May day eve ritual, and don’t look at me like that, it was Lavender’s idea,” she explained.

“What’s the ritual about?” he asked, wondering now how he played a part in this.

Hermione cleared her throat several times before finally answering, “Well, I was supposed to see my future husband when I peer into the mirror,” she blushed profusely and refused to look at him, choosing to play with her fingers.

“So, I guess, we’ll have to get married? That means we can continue what we were doing the last time,” he said, a naughty glint in his eyes.

“We weren’t doing anything the last time!” she exclaimed.

“I know, I know, I was just playing with you,” Harry chuckled.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Same as you,” he said.

“You’re trying to see your future husband as well? Harry, why didn’t you tell me?” she said with a tiny smile.

“Haha, if you should know, I thought you were a banshee,” he retorted.

“You what?!!” Hermione asked in disgust.

“No, I didn’t mean I thought you were a banshee, it was what I expected to see, if I was going to see anything, but then I saw you and for a minute there I actually believed you were an angel,” he said.

Hermione felt very giddy all of a sudden, blushing profusely and grinning madly, “Really? You thought I looked like an angel?” she managed to say in between giggles.

“Yes, now stop acting like that, you look like a mental patient,” he added. Hermione stared at him with disgust once more.

“I don’t mean that, I would never think anything like that of you,” he said, starting to get serious, “Hermione, there’s something I need to tell you, about that night we were caught here in this room, well, there’s something you don’t know about it.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked suspiciously.

“Well, everything didn’t exactly happen accidentally,” he said sheepishly.

“Continue,” she said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Well,”

HARRY’S MAJOR FLASHBACK

“Hermione, I need some help with Charms,” he said, approaching her one night in the common room. Harry lied, he was getting perfect scores in Charms, but it was the only way to get Hermione to stay up late at night alone with him. He made sure that Ron was out of the way by tricking him into believing that a saucy wench was meeting him at the Astronomy Tower that night.

“Of course I’d help you Harry,” she agreed immediately.

“Well, we shouldn’t be here, I mean, I don’t think everyone would be very happy if we do a cloud charm in here,” he said, laughing nervously.

“Okay, wait here, I’ll grab my cloak, it’s cold tonight,” she said.

He waited with bated breath for Hermione to come down the stairs. Finally she descended and he marveled once more how she could make him forget about himself and just stare at her when she walks into a room.

“Harry!” she screamed, shaking him slightly.

“Sorry, um, you ready?”

“Yes,” she said as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

They went out the portrait hole and proceeded to go down the stairs.

“Where should we study?” she asked, opening the rooms they passed through, finding each one as inappropriate as the next.

“Well, there’s this spacious room beside the great hall, it might be suitable enough,” he suggested as innocently as he possibly could.

“Let’s head there then,” she said flashing him that wonderful smile that made him weak in the knees. Harry led the way and went on to open the door for Hermione. As soon as he heard her gasp in surprise, he knew there was no turning back.

“Harry, look at this! So many flowers, they’re so beautiful,” she beamed with excitement.

He was supposed to say that they weren’t as beautiful as her, but for some reason, the words were stuck in his throat, “Aren’t they?” he managed to get out.

“I wonder why these are here,” she continued, picking up a fresh yellow rose from the bunch.

They’re for you! They’re for you! Say it you moron! “I don’t know” he said as he pinched his right leg, “Owww!”

“Harry, are you okay?” she said, alarmed by his sudden outcry, as she rushed to him.

Tell her how you feel, how you think about her all the time, how she smells like apples and how you love it when she nags you. Tell her something for crying out loud. “I pinched myself.”

“Okay, Harry, never pinch yourself if you can’t handle it,” she said, patting his shoulder, “I think this might be some sort of function room. The professors might use it some time, so it’s best we leave.”

She began to walk away and out the room. “No, this is your chance, stop her, just scream it, tell her you would give her all the flowers in the world. Just scream it, I love you Hermione!” For some reason, instead of following his head, he chose to follow his wand and made the floor under Hermione’s feet suddenly fill with a puddle, in an attempt to prevent her from moving further.

Well, she didn’t move any further, but she was also very close to breaking her spine. Harry immediately rushed to her side and quickly grabbed her around the waist, but he failed to keep his balance causing the both of them to fall on the floor. They were both quite out of it for a while, but when he was able to think clearly again, he realized that he was lying with his back on the floor and Hermione, her cloak half undone, was straddling on top of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his concern winning over his hormones.

“I think so,” she said, rubbing a sore spot on her right leg.

“FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN! What are the two of you doing?”

Hermione gasped and struggled to get up on her feet, “Professor McGonagall, we were, well, we fell, I fell actually, there was a suddenly a puddle on the floor and--”

“Do I look stupid to you Miss Granger? I have been teaching here before you were even conceived. I have seen everything, and frankly yours is the most pathetic excuse I have heard,” she said with a very disappointed tone.

This time, Harry stood up to explain, “But she’s telling the truth, we only came down here to study and--”

“You really expect me to believe that Mister Potter? You should’ve seen yourselves, you were, well, you were in a very compromising position,” she said, losing the nerve in her voice a little.

“We were what?” Harry asked perplexed.

“You were in a very compromising position,” McGonagall repeated.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked impertinently.

McGonagall lost her patience at this and remembered that she was authority and they were in trouble, “Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, I trust this would not happen again. I expect nothing less from the future Head Girl.”

“Yes, Professor,” Hermione said meekly.

“Now go back to your dormitories and go straight to bed, separate beds,” she said, stressing the last phrase.

Harry wondered if anyone could possibly go any redder than Hermione. He noticed her eyes moisten with tears, “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.”

“Of course it isn’t, we shouldn’t have been out of bed at this time of night anyway,” she answered, attempting a smile, but failing miserably, “Come on, let’s get back.”

And Harry watched her retreating back, knowing that it was best to just let her go this time.

END OF HARRY’S MAJOR FLASHBACK Harry

He watched her face turn from suspicious to angry to downright murderous as he told her what happened, really. He felt as if he were only two feet tall under Hermione’s piercing gaze.

“You got me into trouble, you know,” she said, “Why couldn’t you have just told me straight to my face?”

“I didn’t know what to say,” he answered in a small voice.

“But you obviously knew what to do,” she retorted.

“I’m sorry, Hermione, you must think I’m an idiot,” he said.

“Well you are,” she answered. She slowly moved from the spot where she was standing and stood closer to him, staring up at him with her big brown eyes.

“Harry,” she started.

(A/N: I have to acknowledge Steve a.k.a. Sir Loyne for the saucy wench bit, he started the whole saucy wench business. Thanks to Sabs beta-ed this first when I posted it at SCUSA. . Thanks so much to Alcfeniel who's been a wonderful and patient beta, I tend to go on a long break and then come back and bombard her with a myriad of fics.)

5. Laceving Flies and Saucy Wenches

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

I blatantly stole a scene from the movie 'The Big Hit' starring Mark Wahlberg, directed by Che-Kirk Wong, written by Ben Ramsey, produced by Terence Chang and John Woo, under Sony Pictures. I do not own any of them, although I wish I owned Mark Wahlberg, nor do I have any associations with them, I am simply stealing one scene.

Chapter Five : Laceving Flies and Saucy Wenches Hermione

“Harry,” she started. She brought her hand up to caress his cheek. She felt him relax at her touch. “It’s now or never,” she thought.

Slap!!! Harry reeled backwards at the amazing strength she exerted.

“Ouch,” Harry exclaimed, “What did you do that for?

Draco

“What is this place?” Ginny asked when they entered a small cramped room, with stacks of wooden shelves on all its four sides, hidden behind a tapestry at the very end of the second floor corridor.

“It’s Snape’s other storage for potions ingredients,” Draco said. “It’s easier to break into, if you must know.”

“I see that,” she said.

Draco pulled out a piece of parchment from the pocket of his robes and handed it to Ginny. “You read the ingredients there while I get them.”

“Yes, sir,” she said as she gave him a mock salute.

“Quit playing around kid, just read the note,” he retorted.

She brought out her wand and whispered, “Lumos”, and brought it closer to the parchment. “Let’s see, first you need the legs of a grahopper,” she said.

“Something wrong with your tongue?” he asked impatiently.

“No, it says grahopper,” Ginny answered coolly.

“Well, it means grasshopper, idiot girl,” he bellowed.

“Hey, it’s not my fault if you can’t spell!” she shot back.

“Just read on,” he said.

“Fine, you also need the eyes of a beetle,” she continued.

“Check.”

“Seagrass.”

“Check.”

“And laceving flies,” she said with as smirk.

“What are you, Bulgarian, now?” he whipped out.

“It says laceving flies,” she said as she waved the parchment in his face.

“You know that means lacewing flies.”

“You told me to read it, you didn’t tell me to interpret it,” she retorted.

“Then interpret it!” he exclaimed.

“As you wish.” she cleared her throat several times, annoying Draco even more, “I am Draco Malfoy, a sexually frustrated, degenerate loser with handwriting that’s less comprehensible than Hieroglyphics.”

“Okay! Don’t interpret it! For Merlin’s sake, you’re such a pain!” he screamed, and Ginny wondered why Filch still wasn’t busting in. Draco took several deep breaths before he finally calmed down. “Change of plans, I read from the list, you get them.”

“Sure.” Ginny stretched out her hand, letting the parchment dangle from it. Draco snatched it rashly as she walked up the stacks of shelves where vials and jars of the creepiest things on earth stood.

“Okay we’re going to need.” Draco paused for a very long moment.

“What, having trouble reading your own writing?” Ginny asked with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

Ron

“Now I’m pretty sure they turned here,” Ron thought, trying to remember where he saw what was supposed to be his sister and the biggest jerk in Hogwarts.“Maybe I’m just mistaken, Ginny would never spend five seconds with Malfoy willingly. Maybe I saw someone else. That, or Ginny was under the Imperius curse. Darn that Malfoy, if he did anything to my sister, I’m going to--” But his thought process was immediately impeded as he walked directly into someone else as he turned into a corner.

“Ron, it must be fate, we meet again,” the other person said.

“Oh God, no.”

RON’S MAJOR FLASHBACK

“I wonder which saucy wench is meeting me tonight.” He dressed himself for the occasion, as he pulled himself into his brand new dress robes, courtesy of Fred and George. He had a stupid smile plastered across his face all day after he found a note in between the pages of his book. He immediately told Harry, but was surprised when he did not share his excitement and acted very uneasily. “Jealous prat,” he had thought.

That night, he went up the Astronomy Tower anticipating the night of romance that he was to have with a very lucky lady. He could barely see in the dark but he could clearly make out the outline of a slender figure leaning on the banister surrounding the tower. He could see the stylish blond hair and the long slender fingers of the figure. He stealthily wrapped his arms around the sender of the love note’s waist and received a surprised gasp in response. He prepared to launch his sleek and suave speech bursting with machismo, and designed specifically to sweep witches off their feet, that he managed to put together while listening to records of Ricky Martin and Enrique Iglesias. “Nobody wants to be lonely, so tonight, let the rhythm take you over and let us livin’ la vida loca. For you I will shake my bonbon, I will be your hero baby, I will kiss away the pain, so why don’t you let me love you?”

(A/N: In this fic, these hot Latinos became famous in 1996 and in the Wizarding World)

He heard a very satisfactory sigh, “Yes, my love.”

But something was wrong. “C-can you say that again?” he asked, as he loosened his hold.

“Yes, my love.” He saw his secret lover turn and almost fell off the tower.

“Justin, what the hell are you doing here?!!”

“I am here every night, waiting for my prince to come and sweep me off my feet, and you have finally arrived,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“No, there was a mistake, I was supposed to meet a saucy wench--” He didn’t bother to finish and bolted for the stairs with a very eager Justin (who was eating bars of chocolates earlier, and we all know chocolates are very effective aphrodisiacs).

END OF RON’S MAJOR FLASHBACK

“Justin, stay back, just stay where you are. No, don’t move,” Ron said as he walked backwards.

“But you said you want me to let the rhythm take me over,” Justin said with a pleading voice.

“No, I was just kidding,” Ron said, trying to move away.

“Oh, I see, this is a game, you wanted to play hard to get!” Justin said as he clapped excitedly.

Ron’s eyes widened and he did the first thing that came to his mind, and ran.

“Oh, Ron, my love, you want me to chase you! I love this game, I used to play it with my ex, Goyle,” Justin could be heard in the background.

Ron thought desperately of a way he can get out of this predicament and he remembered, “Harry, he’s still in the room, he can help me.” He quickly went in the direction of the room with a big mirror. He was very glad when he saw that he was about to reach it. He grabbed the knobs, checking to see if Justin was still chasing him, turned them, and pushed the doors open.

After that, all thoughts of Justin were forgotten, “Oh My God, It’s true!"

(A/N: Thank you to Aeryn and Zorb who's comments brought my attention to the needed improvisations. Thanks to Alcfeniel once more for the beta. Again, thanks to Steve for coming up with the saucy wench in the AT. )

6. Snogs and Then Some

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

Chapter Six : Snogs and Then Some

Harry

His face was tingling with pain from the slap Hermione so generously gave him. He knew he deserved it, he had deliberately planned that night. But still, it wasn’t his fault that McGonagall walked in at the exact moment that they were on the floor and they were, well, in a very compromising position.

He dared to look at her and found that she was smiling at him. Wait, she’s smiling?! He used to be able to know what exactly she was thinking, but at this moment, he wasn’t so sure. Despite the growing nervousness at the pit of his stomach, he could not help staring at her. He still kicked himself whenever he thought of the times he even looked at another witch. How could he have not seen the priceless beauty of friendship and love that stood right in front of him? His only defense was that he was a child and he didn’t know any better.

She walked a step closer to him and he brazed himself for another attack. But instead of the hard smack of her palms, he felt her lips brush the spot where her hand left its mark. For the second time in his life he felt her lips on his cheek. It lingered longer than it did when she first kissed him at the King’s Cross Station. She was so close to him and he could smell her hair, her skin, and her clothes. He inhaled the scent that was a mixture of flowers and apples and he wondered if it was possible if they could just stay like this for the rest of the night. But to his immense disappointment, she lifted her lips from his cheek. He let out the breath that he had been unconsciously holding.

“Now we’re even,” she said as she stroked the spot that she had slapped and kissed earlier. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was stupid. Are you angry?” he asked.

“It’s hard to be angry when something you have been hoping for, for a very long time, finally comes true,” she said as she smiled up at him.

“You’ve been hoping for, for this?” he asked, a hopeful smile gracing his face

“If you had just said it, then I wouldn’t have to be down here trying to look into my future, I could have just been focusing on my present,” she said, her voice in a teasing whisper.

“And your present would be?” he asked as he gathered the courage to place his hands on her elbows.

“Guess?” she said, her eyes flashing playfully. He felt her stiffen as his left hand flittered up the back of her arm.

“I’m guessing I should say it now,” he said. His hand traveled across her shoulder and finally resting at the base of her neck. He could feel her pulse quicken under his touch. She clasped her hand over his to stop herself from trembling

“Please, I want to hear it,” she said as she closed her eyes.

He leaned over her, bringing his mouth closer to her ear and whispered softly the words he badly wanted to tell her, “I love you."

He stepped back a little to gaze at her face that was beaming with happiness. Stupid prat, why didn’t you just tell her? But it didn’t matter, now they have all the time in the world.

She opened her eyes and he could see the light dancing in them. He didn’t even have to think about what he was going to do next, he just knew, and this time he followed what he already knew. He leaned closer to her face, closer and closer until the tip of their noses touched and he could feel her warm breath on his lips. He let his lower lip touch the upper of hers, lingering a little bit as he savored her taste. He gave her light, feathery, teasing kisses, their lips touching, breathing a little, only to find its way to each other again. He felt his body heat up as he sensed her open mouth under his and he gingerly accepted the invitation. She stroked his nape with her fingers and it gave him a warm, tingly feeling. The more he had of her, the more he yearned for her, now he felt as if they weren’t close enough. He slowly undid the tie of her robes, waiting for her to protest. Instead, she let him slip the robe of her shoulder and Harry could feel the smooth satin pajamas under his palms as he fondled the side of her hips. He had no idea who initiated it or how exactly did they get there but they soon found themselves in the same compromising position they had been in nights before, only this time, there was a pink robe that pillowed Harry’s head, there were no bruises and Hermione wasn’t the one rubbing the right side of her leg.

She was kissing him under his chin when he suddenly spoke. “I want to hear it, too.”

“You do?” she said, giving him the most beautiful smile she can manage.

“Please,” he pleaded, his green eyes full of sincerity.

“And here I thought you just wanted to snog with me,” she joked. She put both her hands on either side of his face and shifted his head slightly, so that their eyes were looking directly into each other. “I love you Harry, I’ve always had. I can’t name the exact instance when I first did because there is none. With you, I have a sense of completion; I feel that my life began only to end with you. Sometimes, I think your eyes are like the pieces of the puzzle I need to complete mine so I could finally see. And our hands were made to hold on to each other throughout any weather. Like every part of you was made to match every part of me. Does that make sense to you Harry?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he said as he reached out to hold her hand, clasping them together in a perfect fit.

“I love you,” she said again.

“I love you, too.” His lips journeyed its way from the tip of her nose down to her lips once more and proceeded downwards. She rolled over to her side as she craned her neck, allowing him better access to the skin that flourished there. It was as if his hands had its own life and soon found itself struggling with the last button of her pajama, slowly working its way up until all barriers were finally removed. His hands gently brushed her navel making her breath unevenly. He brought his hand up to trace the soft lace of her brassiere and he could swear she stopped breathing for a moment. If they hadn’t been so pre-occupied, they would have probably heard the chaos outside the room before it was, well, too late.

“Oh My God, It’s true!”

Ginny

“How many times do I have to tell you! Counter-clockwise you buffoon!” Ginny scolded as she shoved Draco to the side, taking over the stirring of the cauldron.

“I am not a baboon!” Draco hissed.

“I said buffoon, buffoon.”

“Oh, sorry, my mistake.”

Ginny dared to comprehend the flow of their conversation, but gave up eventually. Instead, she shifted her attention to the roll of parchment that was spread on the table in front of them. A naughty grin played around her lips and she looked at Draco. “Don’t think I don’t recognize this potion just because you tore off the header. Maybe you should tell me the truth before I come to another conclusion.”

“Why are you so interested anyway?” Draco drawled.

“Any dirty story about you interests me,” she said casually, as she added the grasshopper’s legs into the mixture.

“What makes you think I would volunteer the information?” he retaliated.

“Because rumors are very creative, and I’m quite sure Lavender and Parvati would love to know about this potion, whatever it is for?” she finished with a wicked smile.

“Blackmailing, I never thought Gryffindors are capable of that,” Draco answered.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she said.

Draco took a deep breath, “If I tell you, you have to assure me that you won’t tell another soul. If you do, I’ll feed you to Hagrid.”

“How dare you say that, what do you have against Hagrid?” Ginny said in disbelief while sprinkling powdered seagrass into the cauldron.

“You’re right, it would be a real punishment to him. Not only are you hard to digest because of the incredible amount of lipids in your body, you’d probably taste like copper,” he smirked and leaned his back on the wall.

“For your information, I’m five-foot five inches and I weigh a hundred and fifteen pounds and I am sure I taste very good!” she retaliated while chopping the skin of a lizard.

“Want to prove that last part to me?” he said huskily.

Ginny suddenly envisioned a very pale naked Malfoy and shuddered at the thought. “Eww! I’d much sooner sleep with Snape.”

Draco’s face was suddenly contorted with disgust. “Ugh, Weasley, that’s revolting, you’d do that?”

Ginny was thoughtful for a moment and her face suddenly turned green. “Let’s just forget I said that, bad example. Wait, we’re steering away from the topic at hand, which is what are you using this potion for?”

“You’re not going to give up are you?”

“No, so you might as well tell me.”

“Well, Pansy has this fetish.”

“Ooh, Pansy has a fetish, it’s getting interesting already,” Ginny squealed.

“Well, she likes men who--”

“Oh my, what does she like in men?”

“Do you mind, I’m trying to tell a very personal experience here?” Draco asked with sarcasm.

“Sorry, go on.” Ginny said with a sheepish grin.

“As I was saying,”

DRACO’S MAJOR FLASHBACK

He watched his shirtless self on the mirror, asking himself for the umpteenth time why he agreed to do this. It wasn’t as if Pansy was the most shaggable witch in Hogwarts. But she was ready, willing and able, what sixteen year old boy wouldn’t agree to that.

Still, he had some reservations about the potion, Pansy wasn’t exactly the best potions student Hogwarts has ever seen. He brought up the vial to his face and watched the purple liquid swirl inside. After a few more minutes of stalling, he slowly brought the tip of the vial to his lips and drank the liquid inside. He felt very tingly and he soon found out that thin blond hair was sprouting out of his chest. Soon, a thin layer of chest hair covered him down to his navel. He admired his new manly look in front of the mirror, before putting his jumpers on and sauntered down to the Slytherin common room. Pansy was going to be bawled over when she sees the new and improved sexy Draco. He chose to sit on the leather couch, resting his stretched hands on both sides.

After a while, Draco pulled out a pocket watch from his robe. “Five minutes late” he thought. It was okay though, they had all night, no need to rush. But suddenly, he felt very warm, too warm in fact. He noticed that the tingly sensation was back, and it was more intense this time. He put his hand against his chest, and it felt very soft. With much trepidation, he pulled the neckline of his jumper and peered inside.

“Aaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!”

“Something wrong, Draco?” Blaise Zabini turned all of a sudden at Draco’s outcry.

“Nothing’s wrong everything’s perfect,” he answered, trying to keep his voice at a minimum.

He pulled his jumpers once more, this time having enough restraint not to cry in horror. His chest looked like a polar bear rug. “Pansy,” he grumbled under his breath.

“What is it my love?” Pansy suddenly whispered in his ears. All his hair, including all his chest hair stood on end at hearing her voice.

“This is a special night for the both of us, are you as excited as I am?” she said with what seems to be an attempt of a teasing voice. She moved her hands to rub them against his chest. His hand reflectively flew to stop hers from going further.

“Draco, what’s going on?” she asked with irritation.

“We can’t do this,” he said.

“And why not?” she asked, both her eyebrows raised.

Draco racked his brain for an answer. “Because I’m having an affair.”

Pansy’s mouth looked as if it was going to rip on the sides, “With whom?”

Draco answered the first name that came to his mind. “Millicent Bulstrode.”

“Why you rat fink?! I cannot believe you, I swear, my daddy is going to hear about this, and that means your daddy is going to hear about it as well, which means it will reach your mummy!”

“Did you learn that in Divination?”

Pansy let out a frustrated shriek and stormed off to her dormitory. But Draco couldn’t care less. Right now, he had a polar bear rug glued to his chest and he had to get rid of it.

END OF DRACO’S MAJOR FLASHBACK

“Can I see! Can I see!” Ginny squealed, jumping around Draco like a bunny.

“You really think I’d show it to you?” Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

“Not really, why didn’t you just shave it?” she asked.

“I tried, it kept growing back,” he explained.

Ginny went over to the cauldron to check the potion. “Looks like it’s ready.”

She took a ladle and transferred the potion to a clear bottle she held on her right hand.

“We still need to shake it a bit,” she said as she swirled the bottle in her hand. She paced around the room while doing this.

Draco pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. It was nearing midnight.

Lavender

“It’s been almost an hour. What could be taking her so long?” Lavender shrieked and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Sit down. You’re making us dizzy,” Parvati told her. Lavender stopped pacing and flopped herself down on the bed opposite Parvati’s.

“We should go after her, we have to see if she’s alright,” Lavender suggested.

“What? Filch might catch us! I do not plan on spending a day in detention this week!” Parvati exploded.

“Parvati, since when have you been afraid of getting caught by Filch? I swear, someone should give you an award for the most number of hours spent inside the trophy room,” she retorted.

“But that was different,” Parvati answered sheepishly.

“Yes, it was. This is important, that wasn’t. Now you’re coming with me if I have to drag your scrawny bum out of here,” Lavender said as she walked over and pulled Parvati up by the arms.

Before leaving the room, Lavender turned around to speak to Kelly and Donna, who were busy flipping their blond hair, “You two stay here. If Hermione comes back, tell her we went looking for her. Is that clear?”

The two nodded as they flashed her a wide smile that made Lavender shiver.

Justin

It was hard to keep up with someone who ran so fast, especially if you’re wearing five inch platforms, but he was determined to catch up with Ron. He was going to catch up with him if he had to watch McGonagall do an exotic dance routine.

He watched as Ron turned around the corner and ran down the stairs. He quickly followed in pursuit, making a conscious effort not to trip on his robes. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he caught a glimpse of Ron’s red hair as it turned towards the direction of the room with the big mirror. “So Ron likes mirrors?” he grinned as kinky thoughts began to cross his mind. He had always wanted to do the deed with Goyle in that room, but his erstwhile “friend” was very self-conscious about his body.

He stopped abruptly when he heard Ron suddenly exclaim the words, “Oh my God, it’s true!”

He quickly rushed to Ron’s side to see what could be the cause of his ashen face. He let out a delighted squeal at the sight that greeted him. Both Hermione and Harry were flushing red as Harry struggled to get to his feet, and Hermione was desperately trying to clasp the buttons of her pajamas.

“So it is true, I can’t wait ‘til all the Hufflepuffs hear about this!” he echoed, but none of them were paying any attention to him.

“You… and you, well it’s not like it’s a big surprise, but I didn’t think… Merlin’s beard, you were about to--” Ron stammered.

“Ron, we weren’t about to do anything,” Hermione cut him off.

“Well, from the looks of it, you were already doing something,” Justin said.

“Will you stay out of this? This is about me and my friends,” Ron snapped.

“Well I think it’s about her and him. Where do you come in?” Justin retorted.

“Just shut up, will ya?” he barked as he turned his attention back to his two flushing friends, “You should’ve seen yourselves, you were, you were--” Ron tried to fish around for a word.

“In a very compromising position?” Harry suggested.

“Exactly!” he said with a triumphant grin. His grin quickly turned into a frown as he prepared for the lecture that he was about to ensue. “You know, you could’ve just shared this particular side of your relationship with me. I mean, I would’ve been very happy for you. And I understand that the two of you would want to keep something like this a secret, after all that happened with Rita Skeeter and that wasn’t even real. But I’m your best friend, we share everything! You don’t keep secrets from me, I’m not like Justin!”

“Hey, what do you mean by that lover boy?” Justin said with a twisted smile.

“Wait, did you just call him, lover boy? Ron, is there something you’re not telling us?” Hermione asked perplexed.

“You gossip, and it’s a long story,” Ron answered the two of them in the order of when they asked.

“I do not gossip!” Justin defended.

“What’s the long story?” Harry interrupted.

“Oh yes you do, you just told us earlier you can’t wait to tell all the Hufflepuffs, and it has something to do with a mixed up love letter from a witch up at the Astronomy Tower,” Ron answered them.

“I suppose you have a point,” Justin said, becoming very interested with his nails all of a sudden.

“Did you say mixed up love letter?” Harry asked, the tremble in his voice evident.

“Yes,” Ron answered nonchalantly.

“Oh my god,” Harry mouthed.

“Why?” Hermione turned to him suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Harry answered, trying to keep his voice steady.

At that moment, Justin heard a surprised gasp coming from behind him. He turned around to find a twin pair of wide eyes that belonged to Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

“Oh great,” Hermione muttered dryly.

Lavender quickly strode over to where Hermione stood and shook her by the shoulders. “How could you?! We were so worried about you, all the things we’ve thought that may have happened to you! You could’ve been attacked by grindylows!”

“Lavender, grindylows are sea creatures,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“I know that, I was merely implying that someone may have dragged you to the sea, but that’s not the point. You could’ve told us you were going to have a snog session with Harry!” she continued with her overacting.

“How did you know?!” Hermione asked, her eyes bulging out of its socket, “And stop shaking me, my hair is bad enough as it is!”

Lavender removed her hands from Hermione’s shoulders and placed them on her own hips, “If you must know, oh-so-sharp one, your buttons are still open and I can see your bra.”

Hermione looked down her chest, then up again at Lavender, and then back again at her chest. She hastily buttoned her pajamas and made sure that all were in order.

“Excuse me, but I’m trying to have a conversation with my friends here! You two still have a lot of explaining to do.” Ron tapped his foot with impatience.

“Okay, what does all this have to do with you?” Parvati asked him. “I mean from what I see, this is between Harry and Hermione.”

“Exactly! I’ve been telling him that, but he won’t listen!” Justin chimed in.

“Because they’re my friends!” Ron reasoned in frustration.

“Honey, unless you’re going for a threesome, which doesn’t seem to be the case here, I really see no reason why they should explain it to you,” Parvati argued.

“Amen to that sister!” Justin exclaimed, motioning for a high five with Parvati, which she enthusiastically accepted.

“Alright everyone, Ron’s right,” Hermione interjected.

“Did she just say Ron’s wife?” Justin asked, leaning closer to Parvati.

“No, I think it was Ron’s bright?” Parvati whispered back.

“That makes even less sense,” Justin shrugged.

“I’m right here you know, and for the record, she said I was right,” Ron hissed at them, “And you, you were practically begging me for sex earlier and--”

“Ooh, I didn’t know you swing that way, Ron,” Parvati chimed in, “I don’t blame you Justin, I heard redheads are really good in bed.”

“First of all, Parvati, I don’t swing that way, and secondly, redheads are excellent in bed,” Ron said with confidence.

Hermione cleared her throat to get their attention back to her, “As I was saying, Ron’s right, and Harry and I both have to explain to him that--” but her words were cut off with a short stifled shriek that came from the direction of the dungeons. The short shriek sent shivers up their spines as they realized who owned the oddly familiar voice.

“Oh my God, Ginny,” Hermione muttered before she fell unconscious into Harry’s arms.

(A/N: Sabs and Alcfeniel, thanks ever so much for the beta.

7. Twin Mirrors

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

Chapter Seven : Twin Mirrors

Draco

Draco gazed at the second-hand of his watch as it went around in circles several times while he waited for Ginny to finish up with the potion. He felt his eyelids droop heavily on his eyes as sleep invited him into its embrace. He was just about ready to let his head drop when he heard Ginny call out to him.

“What is it?” he answered, irritated at the interruption.

“Have you noticed this before?” she hollered to him.

“Noticed what?” he asked.

“Why don’t you come and take a look for yourself?” she snapped.

Draco got to his feet and followed the direction of Ginny’s voice. He found her standing and facing the wall at the far corner of the Potions dungeon, still holding the bottle of potion. When he came up to her side, he discovered the source of her awe. In front of them was an oval mirror framed in oak with nymph carvings. Ginny spoke up when she felt him beside her.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said without looking at him.

“Yes, and Snape loves bubble baths,” he said.

“Oh, come on, don’t you feel it? It’s an old mirror, with so much history. I can almost imagine a pair of star-crossed lovers facing this mirror, wishing they could hold each other forever, the way they saw themselves holding each other at that moment,” she said dreamily.

“Interesting? I can almost see Snape and McGonagall facing this mirror and debating about which of them had the worse hairstyle,” he answered her dryly.

Ginny turned and gave him a disgusted look. “You are such a despicable piece of vermin.

“And here I thought we were getting along,” he jeered.

“Malfoy, go away,” she said, bringing her attention back to the mirror.

“Go away? Is that all I’m going to get from the little witty Weasley?” he continued.

“I just wanted to share something really nice with you. I should’ve known better,” she said with the hurt apparent in her voice.

He looked intently at her as she stubbornly refused to pay him any more attention. He didn’t understand why, but he was slightly bothered by those last words she uttered to him. He watched her make peripheral eye contact to check on him. She flinched when she became conscious of his stare.

“Will you go away? You’re ruining the moment for me,” she said, her head turning to him, but her eyes were focused on the floor.

“What moment?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

He pulled out his pocket watch once more to check the time. “It’s close to midnight. Isn’t it finished yet?”

“In a minute, now go back to your hole or something,” she answered.

Draco snottily rolled his eyes at her before walking away. He sat himself on the spot where he was earlier and prepared himself to take a quick nap. He stole a quick glance at Ginny before shutting his eyes, and he saw her mumbling something to herself. Sleep instantly came to him, and he was just about to visit Gwendolyn Lovetart (who is a firm believer that flipping your skirt over your head and bending over is a work of art) in his dreams, when his eyes snapped open, alarmed at the stifled shriek that quickly reached his consciousness. His heartbeat rose slightly as he got up from the floor, looking to see if Ginny was fine. His heart almost stopped at what he saw.

Ginny was nowhere to be seen, but in her place was a figure of a woman with raven hair extending down to her hips. The figure moved closer to him, and to his horror, her skin was peeling off, pus secreting from the creases. She was the color of red, burnt blood all over. He couldn’t move. His feet were rooted to the floor, and he dreaded the moment she would reach him. He had never seen anything so horrendous up close. Her yellow eyes observed him with curiosity, and soon, she looked at him with obvious disinterest. With a swish of her hand, she brought him to unconsciousness.

Harry

Harry caught Hermione in his arms just in time before she hit the ground. He shifted her so that her back was lying on his leg. He tapped the back of his hand gently on Hermione’s cheek.

“Hermione, wake up,” he whispered.

“That’s not the way to do it!” Parvati exclaimed as she kneeled in front of Hermione and slapped her cheek with force. Nothing happened.

“You have to put a little more strength into it,” Lavender inserted. She shoved Parvati away and rendered a sound-inducing slap. Still nothing occurred.

Justin came up behind her and pulled her away from Hermione. “I guess it would take a man’s strength,” he said, preparing to give her a jab.

“Hey,” Ron exclaimed before he could do any damage, “I’m much stronger than you are, let me do it.”

“Alright stop!” Harry finally spoke up as he hugged Hermione to his chest protectively. “We’re wizards, remember? We’ve been taught how to deal with situations like this.” He groped inside the pocket of his robes for his wand. Pointing it at Hermione, he spoke the word, “Ennervate!” Her eyes twitched and then slowly opened. It took her some time to regain full consciousness. The moment she remembered the events that had occurred, she immediately sat up, breathing heavily.

“Ginny... Ginny... something’s happened, Malfoy, that ferret,” she said making incoherent gestures with her hands. “Oh no, it’s all my fault.”

“What do you mean?” Ron said, panic beginning to rise in his eyes.

“I’ll explain later. We have to get there now,” she said. She shakily stood up and made her way outside, prompting everyone to follow her.

The group reached the Potions dungeon without event. The door was left ajar, and they cautiously entered one by one. Inside was a burning cauldron, and there were used ingredients on the tabletop. Someone had been working in here. When Harry and Hermione walked around the table, they discovered an unconscious Malfoy on the floor. Everyone gasped in surprise, but Harry noticed that Hermione’s face was curled in perplexity. She came up to his side and brought out her wand from her waistband. Pointing to the body on the floor, she used the spell Harry had earlier used on her. “Ennervate!” In a minute, Malfoy was flinching. Before he could even open his eyes, Hermione jumped on top of him, grabbing him by the collar and bringing his face up to hers.

“You bouncing hamster! What the hell did you do to her?! Where is she?!!!” she cried, shocking everyone in the room.

Malfoy was slightly taken aback but immediately found his voice. “If you haven’t noticed, I was the one who was unconscious! Anyone with enough brains between their ears would conclude that I’m the victim!” he screamed right back at her.

“As if Ginny would do anything to you! You’re evil!” she hollered, trying to match the ring of his voice.

“Maybe I’m not so evil now!” he retorted.

“Idiot, evil doesn’t take a vacation!” Hermione reasoned.

Malfoy grew impatient and forced Hermione’s hands away from his collar, “You can scream all you want, but I didn’t do anything to Ginny!”

“Hey, did you just address my sister by her first name? What the hell is going on here?” Ron said, breaking away from his distressed trance.

Hermione ignored Ron and continued to interrogate Malfoy, “If you didn’t do anything, then what happened to her?” Her eyes had a homicidal glint to it.

“I don’t know either. She was helping me with a potion, I was taking a nap, and then the next minute, I heard her scream. When I went to check on her, she was gone and, and,” he stopped at this point, but it was obvious he was debating internally whether or not to tell them the rest of what happened.

“And what?” Hermione urged with a threatening tone.

Malfoy finally decided to tell her. “There was a woman. She had long raven hair and looked as if she came out of a bonfire. She attacked me.”

“That’s bull! What the hell did you do to my sister?” Ron spoke up, his face the color of his hair, but Hermione shushed him with a finger as she was in deep thought.

“Malfoy, where was Ginny the last time you saw her?” she asked with her logical tone.

“She was looking in front of the mirror, over there,” Draco pointed his finger towards an oval mirror that reminded Harry of the mirror in the big room. In fact, it looked exactly like the mirror in the big room.

Hermione’s hand flew to her mouth as she let out a tensed gasp. “I think I know what happened,” her voice trembled as she spoke.

“Oh goody, please spare us the excitement and do tell,” Draco said with a tone much like the one Snape would use to talk about his trip to Disneyland.

Hermione ignored the sarcasm. The situation was much too grave for her to put her energy anywhere else. She was about to start, but Harry had to tell her something.

“Honey, can you please get off Malfoy first? It’s a bothersome sight.”

“Aww come on, I was beginning to enjoy myself,” Malfoy snickered.

Hermione refused to reply but got off Malfoy. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. This legend you were talking about, Harry, the one with the banshee? I know that legend, only I know it as a historical fact. And it’s not a thousand years ago, more like fifty, and there was never a banshee, just a plain witch who fell into a dark wizard’s trap.”

“How is that relevant to Ginny?” Ron asked nervously.

“We have to go to the library, then you’d understand better.” Hermione lead the way out of the Potions dungeon. They stealthily made their way up the staircase to the first floor and down the hall that led to the library. It seemed impossible at the time, but through some miracle, seven teenagers reached the library door without any signs of Filch. Harry began to wonder if he was perhaps dead. Hermione opened the locks using an Alohomora charm and carefully unbolted the door so that it wouldn’t creak. One by one, they entered the library. Hermione was still up front, and Harry was right behind her.

As soon as they were all inside, Hermione broke away from the group and disappeared behind one of the shelves. Harry followed her while the others rested on the chairs, trying to catch their breaths. Harry found her skimming the books on the fifth aisle. She let out a squeal when she finally found what she had been looking for. She pulled out a black leather bound book entitled, “Detailed Digest of Diabolical Dark Wizards and their Devilish Deeds.” She tucked the book under her arm and dragged Harry by the arm back to where the rest of the group was.

Everyone, including Malfoy, flocked around Hermione as she set the book on the table with a loud thud. Harry could tell that they were all holding their breaths as they watched Hermione flip through the pages. She finally landed on the page she was looking for. On the upper left corner was a picture of a young man, around his early twenties. His skin was the color of olives, and his eyes had slits that extended to his temples. He had a thin, curled moustache on top of his withered lips, which kept smirking at them.

Hermione began reading the text aloud for their benefit.

“Diotavelli, born on the 27th of November, 1922. In his five years of terrorism, (1941-1946) he had killed, mutilated, or injured a total of 13 witches aged 14-16, 8 of which were students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. During that era, several deaths and kidnappings that are yet unaccounted for have been speculated to be his doing. However, his most notorious and ingenious crime was committed on the eve of May 1st, 1946.”

“Diotavelli created the Specchi Gemellare al Paradise di Fuoco, or the Twin Mirrors to the Paradise of Fire. The twin mirrors were said to be the gateway to hell; however, there is no evidence proving this claim. What is accepted is that this instrument of the dark arts is used as a device to trap human victims within their confines. The methods that govern the curses surrounding these mirrors are not very clear; however, there are a few important details that are known about them.”

“First, the inscription at the bottom of the mirror that reads, “Una volta che venite in voi non potete andare vi ritirate.” In English, this translates to, “Once you come in, you cannot go back out,” which is quite misleading. It means that although you cannot go back out through the mirror you have entered, its twin mirror can always be used as an exit. It is also an important fact that only one of the mirrors can be activated at one time.”

“To be able to enter through the mirror, the spell Diotavelli applied was a simple muggle verse from an old Beltane tradition. It was a cunning ploy to trick young maidens into saying the spell without full-knowledge of the dangers that lie behind it.”

“To be able to exit the mirror is the complicated part. One must first trade places, knowingly or unknowingly, with the one trapped inside by reciting the spell in front of the proper or activated twin mirror.”

“The first and last victim of the mirrors was a sixteen year-old girl named Aurora Belpo, who fell into the trap on the night of May 1, 1946. Futile attempts were made to rescue her. On the same night, Diotavelli disappeared from the Wizarding world and was never heard from again. His status and whereabouts are still unknown up to this day.”

Hermione turned the page to the other side. There was a picture of Aurora Belpo, she had raven hair that went down to her waist and translucent blue eyes. Her chiseled features complimented her oval face as well as her alabaster skin. Below it was a diagram of the twin mirrors, the words inscribed below were magnified.

“Are you telling me that the woman I saw earlier, that was her?” Malfoy asked, pointing to the picture of Aurora.

“It might as well be. It’s the only logical explanation,” Hermione answered morosely.

“Wait, she never managed to get out?” Ron asked, the color draining from his face.

“She just did, or haven’t you noticed?” Malfoy sneered. Hermione gave him a deathly glare.

“No, no one was able to retrieve her. No one knew how else. And trading someone else with her, well, it just wasn't an option,” Hermione said sadly.

“But what about Ginny?” Ron asked, the lump in his throat building up. Parvati walked over and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, we still have a chance to get her,” Hermione tried to reassure him.

“How?” Harry asked.

“We have to get Aurora to trade places with her,” she said.

“Hermione, how exactly do we do that?” Justin spoke up.

“It sounds hard, but I have a plan. First, we have to find her, and we have to do that fast because she may not be able to survive this world for long. Her stay, wherever it was she was staying, could affect her reaction with the current atmosphere. It may be detrimental to her health. To be able to get her to perform the spell, we can put her under a Confundus charm. We’ll use the mirror in the room we were in earlier because that would be her entrance, and it would be Ginny’s exit. Now, here’s what we need to do. Lavender, Parvati, the two of you, go look for the Professors. We need as much help as we can get. Justin and Ron, you try and find her and use every spell you know to knock her unconscious. Harry and I will study the Confundus charm,” she took a deep breath after her long speech. Everyone was in agreement with her.

Lavender, Parvati, Justin, and Ron began to stalk out of the library when Malfoy reminded them of his existence, “What about me?”

“What about you?” Harry asked, turning to him.

“I want to help too,” he answered sheepishly.

“Um, no,” Ron said, turning away, walking towards the opposite direction.

“But I’m in love with her!” he called. This made Harry, Ron, and Hermione freeze in position.

“What?!” The three of them cried in unison.

“That got your attention.”

“Are you really?” Hermione asked sincerely.

“No, but it sounded like a perfectly good reason to want to help.” Malfoy explained, “Besides, she still has my potion.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Since you’re so persistent, you can go with Ron but that doesn’t mean we trust you any more than before.”

“Hermione!” Ron protested.

“You act like you’re on the losing end. Am I going to be a giant obstacle between you and your boyfriend?” Malfoy snickered, “I don’t need your trust by the way. I just want my potion.”

“See what a nuisance he is?” Ron whined.

“At this point, we need all the help we can get, Ron. This is for Ginny, okay?” Hermione told him.

Ron glanced at Malfoy, giving him a deathly stare, “I suppose so. Just don’t try anything funny.”

“Tsk, and here I was planning to dress up as a clown,” Malfoy said in mock seriousness.

“We better get a move on now, if there’s trouble, Hermione and I will be right here. Is that clear?” Harry said, trying to stopper the fight that was close to brewing up.

“Yes, I’m doing this for Ginny,” Ron answered, leering towards Malfoy.

“Well, then so am I,” Malfoy answered with a challenging tone.

Justin threw up his hand in annoyance and came between them, “Alright, alright! We get it, you’re men. Now let’s go, you can decide outside, which one of you can pee farther.”

Harry watched them file out the door, and then followed Hermione as she slipped behind one of the shelves.

Added Disclaimers: The names, Diotavelli and Belpo, were taken from Umberto Eco's novel "Foucault's Pendulum" Just the names, not the character.

(A/N:

First, Sabs, this chapter would have been a complete disaster without her. Thank you so much for the vote of confidence as well as your honest views. Please Review!

8. Twins

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made an no copyright of trademark infringement is intended.

The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

The names Diotavelli and Belpo were taken from Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum, just the names, not the character.

CHAPTER EIGHT : TWINS

Hermione

Hermione stood on her tiptoes while trying to reach the red leather-bound with bronze letterings that said "Charming Charms to Help You Charm Your Way Out" stamped on its spine. Her fingers barely touched the edge of the book but she was determined to reach it. At this point, Harry's hand deftly pulled it out from its shelf, and he handed it to her.

"Here," he said.

"Thanks," she answered.

"Next time, just ask," he told her. Hermione sat on the floor , tucking her knees in, and opened the book in hopes of finding something about Confundus Charms. Harry sat behind her, placing his legs on either side of her and resting his chin on her shoulder so he could read the book from there.

"Harry, don't do that. It tickles," she said.

"Don't do what? Don't breathe?" he asked, tucking a stray brown hair behind her ear.

"Try not to breathe so heavily," she answered, shivering slightly at his touch.

"I'll try," he promised. He gently placed a soft kiss on her exposed neck and wrapped his arms around her waist. Hermione couldn't help but let out a sigh of pleasure. She could feel his touch fully because of the sheerness of her silk pyjamas. For a moment she forgot about the gravity of the situation at hand and just wallowed in the heaven that is Harry. Harry, sensing her defence going down a notch, turned her face to his, and brought his lips down to hers. After a few moments of sweet, chaste, kissing, he decided to tread the indecent waters and he deepened the kiss. She responded in like, massaging his tongue with hers. As she ran her hand over his messy hair, the thought of picking up where they left off occurred to him. His hand swiftly glided from her waist upwards and gently fondled one breast. This move jolted her, unfortunately for him, back to reality. Hermione pulled away, opting to break off their wanton delight.

"Ginny," she told him.

He let out a sigh of frustration. "I can't believe it, I finally get the chance to have you all to myself and something like this happens," he said, blowing his fringe away from his forehead, "Is it me or are we just doomed to have the worst luck ever?"

"It's part of the Potter-Granger-Weasley tradition, rooted in Murphy's law, that on every marked holiday, something strange is bound to happen," she said, reaching up to twirl his hair around her finger.

"So I guess it was a bad idea to get together on a holiday," he said, smiling.

"It was a worse idea not to have gotten together earlier," she smiled back, "and we're still much luckier, mind you."

"I know, I shouldn't be complaining. After all, I have you," he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

She flashed him a wide grin as she turned her attention back to the abandoned book. It suddenly hit her that in her haste, she had forgotten to put her robe back on. Feeling very cold, she leaned back against Harry, letting him snuggle her closer. It was going to be very hard doing research from now on.

Parvati

Parvati clutched her robe tighter as it was very cold, and her feet were freezing "Lucky Hermione, she gets to stay with Harry," she thought.

"Lavender, do you have any idea where the professors' quarters are?" Parvati asked. They had been walking around the castle for the past quarter of an hour.

"Well, it never really came up, did it?" Lavender harrumphed.

"Where do those darned professors sleep anyway?" Parvati cried.

"I don't know. Who would've thought we'd need to know?" Lavender joined her.

They walked around for five more minutes when an idea hit Parvati.

"Filch!" she squealed.

Lavender quickly ducked behind her friend, "Where?!"

"No, you idiot. We'll get ourselves caught by Filch, then he can take us to the professors!" Parvati exclaimed.

Lavender gasped, "Parvati, I never thought you had it in you! You actually used your brain."

"Don't look so surprised. Come on, let's make some noise," Parvati continued to walk down the hall, looking for something that made noise. She left Lavender gawping after her.

Ron

Ron walked ahead of Justin and Malfoy. He couldn't believe he was stuck with them, that it was Hermione who put him in that position in the first place. "Hermione," he thought, "I wonder what she and Harry are doing right now." Anger coursed through his face as thoughts of his two best friends snogging in the library formed in his head. "They would never do that," he scolded himself, "At least not at Ginny's expense."

"Ginny," he thought. He wondered how she was doing at that moment. He dreaded the thought of Ginny suffering in what was supposed to be hell. Images of his sister wailing in pain amidst burning fires made his eyes well up in tears. He bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from crying entirely as he needed to be strong for her.

The three of them decided to go back to the Potions dungeon as it was the only place that they knew for sure that Belpo had been to. Ron stopped in front of the entrance to the dungeon with Justin and Malfoy closely behind him. Without saying a word, he opened the door and walked in.

Stains of blood on the floor caught Ron's attention. Justin and Malfoy seem to have spotted this as well as the three of them squatted on the ground, almost simultaneously, to get a better look. The marks were unclear but the distinct shape of a footstep could be recognized. Justin caught Ron's eyes and they confirmed each other's thoughts with a nod. Malfoy, on the other hand, was already following the trail of blood before the other two could even stand up.

Ron growled under his breath but didn't voice any complaints. He and Justin followed Malfoy as he read the track of the footsteps. Malfoy turned left when he reached the outside of the dungeon and continued walking towards the direction of the staircase. The marks were becoming fainter and farther apart, but it still sufficed.

The three of them watched as the marks became scarcer until there was no more. They found themselves standing dumbstruck in the middle of the entrance hall. None of them had any clue how to continue. The desperation was evident in their faces. That was until they heard feeble scratching noises coming from somewhere.

"Wha--" Justin began but was immediately shushed by Malfoy with a raise of his hand. Malfoy's eyes squinted as he tried to decipher the source of the ruckus. Ron did the same, and after a few moments, he motioned for the both of them to follow him as he went near the door to their right.

"No, Weasel, it's this way," Malfoy aired cockily, pointing to the door to their left.

"I'm quite sure it's this one, Malfoy," Ron answered uncompromisingly.

"When exactly was the last time you cleaned your ears? It's this one," he insisted, his voice rising a little higher.

Justin, who was good at sensing upcoming testosterone battles, came in between them for the second time that night. "No, it's that one," he announced plainly as he pointed to the door next to the one Malfoy was referring to.

"Oh, how do you know?" Ron questioned him.

As if on cue, the scratching noise resumed for a limited moment.

"That's how I know," he answered with a satisfactory smile.

"Well, it's nearer my door," Malfoy expressed.

"Oh sod off," Ron hissed at him.

"Will you two let it go?! You're both wrong! Now concentrate at the problem at hand, Aurora Belpo may be behind that door. What do you suggest we do?" Justin scolded.

"Opening the door would be a good idea," Malfoy smirked.

"How about I slap you silly first?" Justin warned him, placing both hands on his hips.

"I think Weasley boy over here would be more appreciative of that offer and opening the door would be a good idea. In case you haven't heard, this Belpo woman was held captive in a hellish location for half a century, and one day she is finally set free. Do you seriously think that she'd go lock herself up in a broom closet?" Malfoy said with raised eyebrows.

"You have a point there," Justin admitted as he began removing imaginary dirt from his nails.

Once more, a slow screeching noise reverberated from the door. "Then what do you suppose that is?" Ron eyed him.

"Probably just a cat," Malfoy answered nonchalantly as he twisted the doorknob and-

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" Malfoy toppled backwards, falling over Justin who was right behind him.

"What in the world?!" Ron exclaimed, his face etched with unbeknownst horror.

"GOYLE, I cannot believe you! How could you? With him?!" Justin said with his voice filled with anger and disbelief. He struggled to get up, and he tried to straighten his robes.

"You move onto him? And right after me? Couldn't you have at least found someone who has half as much charisma as me?" Justin continued. Malfoy and Ron looked back and forth between Goyle and Justin as they waited for the former to speak up.

"You don't understand, we're in-love!" Goyle exclaimed in defence. In the meantime, Malfoy was gagging genuinely.

Justin's expression immediately softened at this admittance and he spoke mildly, "Is that true? Are you and Vincent really in love?"

Crabbe and Goyle nodded shyly. They glanced at each other and Goyle leaned forward planting a sweet kiss on Crabbe's lips.

"This is not happening," Malfoy said weakly, his face positively green, "How could I not know about this?"

Crabbe spoke up this time with annoyance at Malfoy, "You don't pay attention, do you Drayyy-coh? The only reason we've been following you around is because you're hotter than a roasted barbecue on a July day noon. We thought we had hope when you took Pansy Parkinson to the Yule Ball. After all, she could pass for a good-looking male. But then we realized that you just had horrible taste in women and you were hopelessly straight. That's when we started dating other people. Although we only recently found out that we are meant to be together." His eyes had a glazed look in them.

"Ah! Stop it!" It was Ron's turn to go ballistic, "I'm supposed to be amused by this turn of events in Malfoy's life, but the idea of you two together is just so darn disturbing! I feel for you, Malfoy."

"At least your friends aren't butt-ugly like these two," Malfoy said. He was still unable to get up from the floor.

"Oh, get over it! Shouldn't you be happy that your friends are in love? That goes for you, too, my ickle honey bunny Ronniekins," Justin cooed, gripping Ron's arm so tightly that he was unable to squirm.

Malfoy finally gathered enough strength to stand up. He brushed the dirt away from the rear area of his robes. Placing his hands on his hips, he took a very deep breath and his face was curled in thought. He sighed and pursed his lips signalling that he had made up his mind.

"I'm not sure what I want to think of you two right now, so let's just leave it at that. There are more pressing matters at hand. I have a question for you two, and it's very important that you use all the brain cells available in your head. Have you seen a severely burned woman anywhere within this area in the last half hour?"

"A woman you say? Does this woman have any identifying marks that can set her apart from the rest?" Crabbe interrogated him.

"How often do you see a severely burned woman walking around Hogwarts in the middle of the night?" Malfoy answered sarcastically.

As soon as Malfoy finished, Goyle had a misty look in his eyes.

Malfoy, who noticed it, began to ask him, "Are you reminded of something, Goyle?"

GOYLE'S MAJOR FLASHBACK

"I'm not sure what I want to think of you two right now, so let's just leave it at that. There are more pressing matters at hand. I have a question for you two, and it's very important that you use all the brain cells available in your head. Have you seen a severely burned woman anywhere within this area in the last half hour?"

"A woman you say? Does this woman have any identifying marks that can set her apart from the rest?" Crabbe interrogated him.

"How often do you see a severely burned woman walking around Hogwarts in the middle of the night?" Malfoy answered sarcastically.

As soon as Malfoy finished, Goyle had a misty look in his eyes.

Malfoy, who noticed it, began to ask him, "Are you reminded of something, Goyle?"

END OF GOYLE'S MAJOR FLASHBACK

"No," Goyle answered simply.

Malfoy at this point had a very livid face and was massaging his temples with his fingers. Ron noticed how very feminine they were, long and slender and his nails look as looked as though they had been manicured.

"Have the two of you always been this useless?" Ron voiced.

Crabbe and Goyle looked very confused and just stared at Ron in response.

"The answer's yes," Malfoy supplied.

Ron rolled his eyes upwards, what were they were going to do now? The situation was getting bleaker by the minute. Who knows what horrors Ginny was going through. He chanced a glance on Malfoy and was shocked to see him as distressed as he was. At the back of his mind, he was convinced that Malfoy would be smirking at their misfortune. He began to wonder once more what Ginny had been doing with Malfoy. He shook his head to will away the thoughts of his sister having some sort of tryst with Malfoy. "That just couldn't be," he thought to himself. "There has to be something that we've missed," Ron tried to rack his brain of any detail that may have skipped his mind, and then he saw it.

"What are you staring at Weasley?" Malfoy demanded with his standard smug drawl.

"The front entrance, you git. It's slightly ajar," Ron said. He shoved Malfoy by the shoulder as he proceeded to walk towards the front doors. He could hear Malfoy's and Justin's footsteps right behind him. He also heard an energized slam of the door which he concluded as (was) a sign of Crabbe's and Goyle's eagerness to continue with their snog.

They half ran, half walked on the Hogwarts grounds, only to pause at the spot bordering between stone and grass.

"Where to, now?" Justin was the first to speak up.

"Look there," Malfoy answered him, cocking his head towards the ground, "Tracks." Ron noticed it, too. There were irregular dents on the dewy grass, and it was clear where it was headed. The Forbidden Forrest.

Ginny

The Great Hall was uncannily bright and Ginny struggled to make her way towards the Gryffindor table. She could not recall how she managed to get inside her robes or how she made it out of Gryffindor tower. Her entire body was aching and her stomach was clamouring for eggs and bacon. Harry, Ron and Hermione stood out of the crowd that surrounded her house's table. She watched in shock as Hermione turned around and beckoned for her to come and sit with them, and Harry and Ron did the same. She could feel a wide grin forming on her face and she eagerly accepted the invitation. She was a only few feet away from them when someone rudely snatched her arm, stopping her from going any farther. An audible gasp echoed through the Great Hall as Ginny whipped around to see who the intruder was.

"Draco?" she mouthed breathlessly, "What do you want?" She yanked her arm away from his grasp, and surprisingly, he did nothing to stop her.

"I just wanted to thank you," he said in that suave, cool tone of his that made even Gryffindor girls swoon.

"Well, now that you did, you can scoot off," she said, her voice irate. She turned away from him, all set to join her brother and his famous friends, but Draco would not allow her. He forcefully turned her towards him by the shoulders. She held her breath as she watched long strands of soft, silver hair curtaining intense grey eyes that bore through her like a one of those muggle screwdrivers that ran with ecklectricity.

"I'm a Malfoy, I don't just say thank you," he told her, both his hands still tightly clasped on her shoulders. Ginny's mind raced with different thoughts of how he could thank her. Each one of her thoughts would have driven her mother to St. Mungo's. She saw him take a deep breath. He began to close the gap between them until he was so close to hers, she could swear they exchanged faces. "Oh my," she muttered.

She sighed with disappointment when he released her from his hold and turned his face downwards. She could see his chest rising up and down in perfect coordination with the sway of his hair. She wondered if the potion had worked, and her thoughts led her to seeing him without that pesky robe and looking for herself, to see whether or not the potion successfully removed the hairs from his chest. Her right hand involuntarily reached out to touch him, but another soft, slender and pampered hand stopped her. She glanced at him and saw that he was looking at her. His face was still turned towards the floor but his eyes were raised towards her. She could see his trademark smirk and she closed her eyes. She could sense his hand making its way up to cup her face, his hands which were, coarse and rigid?

Ginny's eyes fluttered as it tried to adjust to the soft candlelight surrounding her. She could still feel the coarse and rigid hand on her face. Her eyes opened fully and upon registering the being in front of her, she promptly screamed.

Parvati

Parvati slugged her feet up the marble staircase. She and Lavender had been running around Hogwarts looking for any sign of Filch. On a normal day, he would have dragged their bums to McGonagall's office by now, but obviously, this wasn't a normal day.

"Something is terribly wrong," Lavender mused loudly.

"You've noticed that just now?" Parvati said irked.

Lavender set her hands on her hips and let steam out through her nose. She cleared her throat and launched her Sonorus-like talk, "FILCH!!! Where are you!!! Come and get me, I'm right here!!!" As she screamed the last sentence, she bent over letting her breasts practically burst out of her nightgown allowing anyone within a two-mile radius full view of her cleavage. This has no impact or significance to the situation but it happened nonetheless.

"It won't work, Lavender. It's as if they can't even hear us," Parvati said. She let out a loud growl and started reciting all the curses she learned since childhood.

"Wait," Lavender suddenly cut her off.

"What is it?!' she screamed at her and stopped from her pacing.

"Calm down, will you? Do you hear that?" Lavender asked, tilting her head sideways so her ear could hear better.

Parvati paid more attention and heard what Lavender was talking about. "It sounds like someone's crying."

"Moaning Myrtle?" Lavender suggested.

"No, not even Moaning Myrtle can sound that pathetic," she answered. They continued to listen until the faint weeping developed into a full-blown wailing, a loud, deep and nasal wailing.

Parvati caught Lavender's eye and she knew that they shared the same thoughts.

"Peeves?!" they cried in unison. Their speculations were confirmed when they heard a loud sniffing followed by a dismal call, "Filch! I've stolen a student's broom! A Firebolt, come and get me! Why won't you come and get me!" They found him standing beside sculpture of a one-eyed warlock. He blew his nose on his orange tie and carried on with the wailing.

Parvati was torn between feeling extremely sorry for the poltergeist and laughing her arse off at the sight of him. Lavender nudged her and whispered something in her ear. "Perhaps we can ask him what happened."

Parvati agreed with her and side by side, they walked towards Peeves who still wasn't aware of their presence. He was clinging tightly to the warlock.

"Peeves," Parvati began cautiously.

Peeves turned around slowly and his tear glazed eyes travelled from Parvati to Lavender and back again. At first, he didn't seem to be conscious of his surroundings, but as soon as he recognized the two Gryffindors, he wailed again, "FILCH!!! Students out at night!!!"

The two girls just watched him make pathetic attempts to get them caught. Peeves eventually gave up and went back to sobbing.

"Peeves, do you have any idea where Filch is?" Lavender asked.

He blew his nose again before answering, "I don't know. I've been making a riot all night, but he hasn't come. Maybe he doesn't think much of my pranks anymore. Am I getting old? Are my antics no longer amusing? Tell me! TELL ME!!!"

It was Parvati's turn to nudge Lavender, "Say something."

"No, your pranks are still amusing. It amuses us," she mumbled.

"Oh, thank you, you are too kind!" Peeves fell on his knees and hugged Lavender's waist who began gagging internally. There is nothing more disturbing than an insecure poltergeist. "Help," she mouthed to Parvati. Parvati immediately tried to yank the hysterical poltergeist away from her friend.

As soon as Peeves was safely hugging the one-eyed warlock, instead, Parvati continued with their interrogation. "You mean you haven't seen a shadow of Filch, all night? Did that ever happen before? Perhaps he's sick?"

Peeves shook his head vehemently at each of her question, "He doesn't get sick. Even if he did, that smelly cat will take his place, and I haven't seen her all night either. I miss Filch." He launched into another series of sobs.

Parvati turned to face Lavender. "What's happening here?"

"Whatever it is, it's not good," Lavender said.

"Why did we ever get involved with those three?"

Harry

"All right, Harry. Do you understand the principle now?" Hermione asked him.

Harry nodded and Hermione went on with her instructions, "All right then. Why don't you try it on me so we can see if you've got it down?"

Harry raised one eyebrow at her, "You?"

"You don't see anyone else in here, do you? Now remember, diction is very important. It's Ree-gahl-to Con-foon-dio the con should be soft, and the e is stressed. Your mind must remain focused; you have to believe yourself about this alternate existence you're imposing upon that person."

Harry agreed wordlessly. Hermione stood in front of him and signalled for him to start the spell. Harry held his wand at arms length and pointed it at her.

"Regalto Confundio," he said clearly. He watched Hermione's eyes flutter, the charm was beginning to take effect, but the incantation was just half of it. His mind struggled from thinking of the actual reality. Harry concentrated on the alternate reality he'd been thinking of since they were left alone in the library.

The expression of Hermione's face softened and she gave him a tender smile that made him want to jump in the lake.

"I came as soon as I saw your note," Hermione said huskily, making Harry's hairs stand on end, in a good way. She obviously was completely under the spell; he successfully performed a Confundus charm. He knew he should be performing the counter spell by now, but an unknown force took over him and he let her carry on for a few more minutes.

She strolled to where he stood and she gently slid her hands around his neck, bringing his head closer to her face. "So what did you want to study about?" she whispered against his ear as she softly kissed the sensitive skin under it, but she didn't give him a chance to answer the question as she decidedly sealed her mouth over his eliminating all thoughts of conversation.

Harry could have kissed her all night but he knew they had to stop at some point, and there was no better time than the present. Regrettably, he pushed Hermione away. She looked positively hurt, but he was aware that it was just the spell. He pointed his wand at her and he recited the counter spell "Confundio Liberato"

Her eyes fluttered once more and she was back to her regular self. She was oblivious to the events that transpired while she was confunded. She smiled at Harry and asked, "So, did it work?"

He couldn't help the sly grin on his face, "It worked quite well."

Hermione frowned at his expression. "What exactly did you make me do, Potter?"

"Nothing that you wouldn't have done on your own accord." He was still telling the truth after all.

"I'm going to let you off the hook this one time, but only because we have to get out of here and meet Ron and the others," she said, "Let's hope all went well."

Draco

Draco was trailing Ron Weasley who bolted towards the Forbidden Forest the instant they realized that was where Belpo may have headed. Justin was right behind them. Draco couldn't fathom how it was possible for him to keep up with two fast runners while wearing those frivolous shoes. They were nearing the edge of the forest, but there wasn't any sign of another creature nearby. He watched as Ron thoughtlessly entered the forest. He felt compelled to follow and apparently, so did Justin.

They had their wands out and ready. It had just rained and the mud was clinging to the soles of Draco's boots. The saturated soil made it hard to trudge inside the woodland. The moon wasn't particularly bright and their eyes still haven't adjusted to the darkness. They were all listening intently for the crackling of leaves or branches.

Everything was vaguely in view but Draco didn't miss it when Ron's foot was unwittingly caught on a bulging tree root. He smirked amusingly as Ron strained to get up. While they waited for Ron to get his wits about him, Draco was amassed with paranoia. His ears became extremely sensitive with every swish of leaves or mild hooting of birds. He deduced that they were about a hundred meters or so from the edge of the forest.

Then suddenly, he heard an all too distinct sound of a breaking twig. It must be somewhere nearby. He felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end. He could swear that someone was watching them. He looked in every direction but all he could see was an abyss-like path or a tree.

He, Justin and Ron were now standing very closely, their backs to each other. Draco had the feeling that what they were hunting was now hunting them. The three of them kept their breathing to a minimum, not willing to let any sound escape their ears. The next few seconds felt like an eternity, with each decade of their life hanging at the balance between their fate of hunter or prey.

"She's behind that neem tree," Justin spoke with a hushed voice.

"How would you know that?" asked Ron, who was obviously skeptical (sceptical) about Justin's confident declaration.

"I have a good ear," Justin said matter-of-factly.

"Just good? If it you had said excellent, I would've given you more credit," Ron answered sardonically.

It was as if Ron's voice triggered some external force from the universe as a sudden strong gush of wind practically knocked them off their socks. It was during this freak wind storm that the indefinite presence of a figure behind the neem tree was confirmed when a lost black silk came dancing into view and got tangled into a protruding splinter of wood. A bloodied hand came and tugged the captive silk with little success.

"Aren't we supposed to try and attack her now?" Justin asked, his eyes never leaving the bloodied hand.

"Why don't you go first? I'll stand guard," Ron suggested.

As they watched, the mysterious hand was joined by its owner. Draco turned away at the sight of her, but immediately got over his own fear and faced Aurora Belpo without reserve.

She turned her face upwards and stared back up at them, "Are you going to stand there or are you going to help me?"

The three, who seemed to have forgotten why they were there in the first place, was snapped back into their senses. Almost simultaneously, they raised their wands and pointed it directly at her. She remained calm despite their obvious intent to hurt her.

"I don't think you'll need your wands for this. A strong pull can do it," she said imperturbably.

"We know who you are," Draco spoke first.

"Good for you," she said, she was still preoccupied with the hem of her black silk dress that was currently being munched by the neem trees bark. Draco noticed that her voice seemed normal, not croaky as he had imagined it would be.

"You have to come with us. My sister, she's locked inside the mirror, and we have to get her out." It was Ron's turn to speak.

"What makes you think I'll come with you?" she asked in amusement.

"We're not asking," Draco spoke in the most threatening tone he could manage. He lifted his wand and was about to throw a Stunning curse when they heard a loud flapping of wings. The three stood paralyzed as a hippogriff came swooping down, and it landed deftly between them and Aurora. There was a figure wrapped in a hooded cloak mounted on top of it.

"What took you so long?" they heard her say from behind the humongous magical creature in front of them.

The figure lifted the hood of the cloak, and Draco was bowled over at the sight that greeted him. It was the same raven hair that came down to her waist, cloaking an abnormally white face. Compared to her, Draco looked as if he spent a week in the Bahamas.

Justin apparently shared his thoughts when he heard him mutter weakly, "Aurora?"

Whoever this woman was, she had ears as sharp as Justin's as she turned around to look at the three of them with translucent blue eyes and answered, "Close enough." She gave them a wicked smile. She then let out a hand that was hidden under her sleeves, and helped Aurora climb behind her on the hippogriff.

Aurora wrapped her arms around her as she gripped the reins on either side of the hippogriff. She gave them one more look and said, "Don't waste your energy trying to hex us. It simply won't work. We're much too intelligent for you lot."

She gave them a wink and she pulled on the reins, kicking the creature on both sides. The three of them threw every curse they've learned in their last six years at Hogwarts, but just as she said, they didn't work. Every single one of their curses rebounded back to them and Justin's robe even caught fire, causing him to run around shrieking.

They watched helplessly as the two women and their hippogriff disappeared into the night.

(A/N:Onto thank you's: First to my two betas, Sabs and Trinity, who helped makes this chapter decent enough for posting. This story is actually up to Chapter Ten already. I just needed to peddle it again since it took me a year to come up with the tenth chapter. I think I lost readers. If you want to see the remaining chapters please join my Yahoogroups. It’s at this URL: http://www.groups.yahoo.com/group/hp_maydayeve)

9. Bottom Dwellers

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The title of May Day Eve was originally from Nick Joaquin's short story 'May Day Eve' Some lines in this chapter were taken from that short story. The plot, however, is very different.

The names Diotavelli and Belpo were taken from Umberto Eco's Foucault's Pendulum, just the names, not the character.
Author notes: To Sabs, my wonderful friend and beta, this fic wouldn't have been the same if not for her. Also invite everyone to join My Yahoogroups where the rest of the chapters of MDE can be found. Again, please review!

Chapter Nine: Bottom Dwellers

Ginny

The derailed man backed up from Ginny as if he had seen some sort of vile creature himself. His dirty, white beard grew past his chin, and his moustache covered up what would have been his mouth. His dark eyes peeked through layers of fringe, and his pale, wrinkled face hid behind his equally pale and wrinkled hands. He wore a tattered green robe that has obviously never seen laundering since Dumbledore’s last appointment with a razor. Ginny’s first instinct was to run for the door, wherever it was and get as far away from the strange being before her. But something stopped her. He was dirty, old and decrepit, and there was nothing remotely dangerous about him. If anything, she felt the need to help the cowering man in front of her. She cursed her almost obsessive-compulsive nature to give help to anyone who showed the slightest hint of needing it. The same feeling that she felt earlier when Draco asked her for assistance, was tugging in her heart once more. She wouldn’t be satisfied if she didn’t at least query.

“Are you all right, sir?” she asked meekly, taking a tentative step forward. The old man backed up against the wall, his fingers clawing at the grimy and greying bricks.

“You’re not Aurora,” he said, his voice squeaking with apparent fear. “Did she send you to kill me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But rest assured that I’m not here to harm you,” Ginny said patiently.

“You were sent to set her free then?” he continued to question her. His tone gradually increased with indignance, but he kept a safe distance from her.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know who Aurora is, I just… wait, where am I?” Ginny was suddenly struck by the fact that she was in a strange place that she was certain she’s never been in.

After the realization, she quickly recollected the events that happened mere minutes before. She was reciting the spell she had heard from Lavender, as she shook Malfoy’s potion. Then, suddenly the mirror’s reflection was distorted, and it was as if liquid water came flowing from the glass. She wanted to run and scream, unable to decide which should come first, but all of a sudden, she felt herself being sucked into a vacuum. She tried to shout, but she couldn’t feel nor hear her voice come out of her throat. Her ears throbbed in pain, and the darkness blinded her. And then Ginny saw her. It was only a quick flash like lightning, but Ginny could recall every single detail of her. Long black hair, almost translucent blue eyes, the chiselled nose, arrogant chin, swan-like neck that gracefully connected to her decidedly feminine shoulders and that triumphant, aristocratic smile. Immediately after that, she felt as if a thousand of the sharpest needles coursed through every square inch of her body. The pores of her skin ached, and they felt as if blood was piercingly running through them. Unable to bear the pain any longer, Ginny blacked out, and after that, she was no longer aware of herself.

Ginny’s eyes wandered around the room, hoping against hope that she would recognize something. The room was enclosed in mucky, grey bricks. The length and width probably spanned a mere five yards. The flooring was of cold, red cement. There wasn’t a door or a window opening in sight. To her left was the single bunk where she was lying on earlier. There were no coverings or pillows on it, just an old mattress with rusted springs. She remembered how their pointed edges pushed against her back. Opposite the end of the bed was a tiny cupboard. Its wooden doors were infested with termites, although the angel carvings at the top of it could still be distinguished. An oak table stood against the wall of the other corner. Beside it was a single rutty, wooden chair, which’s arms were being gripped tightly by the old man’s shaking hands. Then there was a mirror, not unlike the one she saw earlier, standing alone in one corner. It, alone, was not affected by the senescence that victimized the rest of the room. The reflection shone clearly, and the familiar, yet somehow unrecognisable carvings on the frames shimmered with fresh polish. She felt herself entranced by the article, and she could not take her gaze away from it.

Then an all too familiar something happened. Ginny could see an infinitesimal ripple forming in the centre of the glass mirror. Larger ripples began appearing around it in succession and soon the mirror itself looked like a part of a larger lake. White light shot from the middle of the mirror, and its berth widened until she could no longer see from the brightness. She was wrapped in a blinding light for a moment and then she found herself standing in the same room she was in moments ago. The old man remained where he was, and everything seemed to be back into its normal self, except for the new occupant of this very strange room. He was crouching on his fours and was pushing his palm against his forehead, muttering soft curses in between howls of pain. Ginny’s eyes adjusted themselves back to the dim candlelight of the room. They squinted as she moved closer to the person on the floor.

“Draco!”

Aurora

Aurora waited as her twin sister Luz recited the spell that would open the door to the manor they’ve inherited from their deceased father. She held her breath as she watched the doors made of unbreakable glass swing open. Her home was exactly as she remembered it. Immediately after the entrance was the regal marble staircase with wrought iron railings. At the very centre of the landing was an angel carved out of ivory, exactly where it had been the last time she saw it. She and her mother had always shared a fascination for angels. The gigantic crystal chandelier above her made the marble-flooring underneath her feet glisten even more. She felt very out of place in her own home, remembering her shabby, black robes. It wasn’t as if she had a choice; she had been cooped up in that prison for almost half a century and had no chance to do anything about her appearance.

“That bloke is a psychopath, I can’t believe he did this to you. You were so beautiful,” her sister said in that commanding, dominant voice. Luz was examining her sister from head to toe with very scrutinizing eyes. She had one hand on her hip, and the other held onto the iron railing. She was standing on the second step of the stairs; balancing her weight on one leg and her other was extended exaggeratedly outwards. She had taken off her cloak when they entered the manor and hung it on one of the silver-plated coat hangers. She was wearing a black wrap-around dress shirt that came down to mid-calf. Her thin-strapped sandals showed off the beautiful feet that Aurora had always envied. Luz’s youthful looks could not deny the maturity and age that emanated from her eyes and stature. A part of Aurora always felt like a lost little girl next to her.

“He wanted to kill me, you know,” Aurora managed to say. She tried to hide the frailty in her voice. She had aged, but somehow, Luz hadn’t. She still looked like the same sixteen-year old girl she last saw on a May day eve, fifty years ago. That was strange, even for wizards.

“What? The bastard didn’t know how?” Luz asked with a condescending laugh.

Aurora smirked unsympathetically and answered, “He said he couldn’t bear to, that he still loved me after everything. So he just tortured me and made sure that magic was out of my hands.”

“Hmm, kinky,” Luz retorted with a shrug, her eyes showing the slightest hint of amusement. “Do not worry though, my darling sister. We’ll get your powers and your beauty back in no time. That bloke outsmarted me for the last fifty years, but now he’s just an old, decrepit and pathetic has-been, not even worthy of being called a Dark Wizard. The man should’ve known not to fall in love and with you, of all people.”

“How can we do that? Diotavelli said the spell he put on me was irreversible,” she queried, walking closer to where her sister stood.

Luz tutted at her sister loudly, she walked down the steps and towards Aurora and fearlessly took the burned hands in hers. “Magic can only be overpowered by another magic of greater magnitude.”

“And you’ve found a magic of greater magnitude? It took you this long? I thought Diotavelli wasn’t all that smart?”

“Oh give me a break. First, I had to figure out what the hell this mirror was all about. The underground Wizarding world can be very uncooperative. I didn’t know that bastard knew so much, about you and me. I have to hand it to him; his sleuthing skills are sharper than shonen knives. Who knew? He probably got much practice from stealing knickers and panty hoses from women’s locker rooms. And I had to move very slowly dear sister; otherwise I would’ve aroused suspicion from that idiot Fudge. And if it’s anything we don’t want, it’s an idiot on your tracks.”

“What exactly did you have to do to obtain magic of greater magnitude?” Aurora asked, her curiosity heightening.

“Let me show you,” she answered excitedly. She turned around, her back facing Aurora.

“Korine! Get down here!” she hollered towards the direction of the stairs. The sound of quick, tapping heels was immediately heard. A petite woman with long, shiny black hair and dark brown eyes appeared on the top landing. She was wearing a black chambermaid’s uniform and black loafers. Aurora noticed though that her bust was practically bursting out of the top, and the length of her skirt was only good enough to cover her knickers.

“Korine, what are you wearing?!” Luz stormed, obviously mortified at her maid’s outfit.

“My uniform, Madame,” she answered casually with a strong French accent.

“Didn’t they get the right size?” Luz asked incredulously. Her shoes tapped the floor impatiently.

“No madam, I had zis custom made. It iz a perfect fit, don’t you think?” she said, twirling around for effect.

“It would be if you were a house elf. You will get rid of that uniform and get one that would cover your arse and more.” Luz said this with much finality that all Korine could do was nod and mutter apologetically in French. “Now, I asked you down here not to check on your uniform. Where is Elisa?”

“She iz upstairs taking her bath, madam,” Korine answered promptly.

“Well, when she’s finished, take her to the sitting room. I want her to meet someone.” Luz faced Aurora once more and gave her a knowing smile.

Aurora remained where she was standing and waited with much anticipation as to what Luz had in store for her. She was definitely interested in this Elisa character. Who was she, and what is her role in Luz’s plan to restore her powers? Her questions would soon be answered.

Peeves

Peeves watched as the set of teenagers squabbled like eleven-year olds in front of him. There was Ron Weasley threatening Parvati Patil to give him the spell with his wand. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger held him back and tried to talk him out of it. Justin Finch-Fletchley and Lavender Brown were trying helplessly to protect Parvati from Ron’s continued attempts to lunge at her. The only one who wasn’t participating in this play of insanity was Draco Malfoy. He was leaning against a mirror in one corner of the room. He was observing the events with eagle eyes, although Peeves couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face remained expressionless even when the Justin boy accidentally knocked Parvati’s jaw with his fist while trying to protect her.

“Hermione, don’t try to stop me. It’s the only way I can save Ginny,” Ron cried desperately. He tried to shake off Hermione’s tight grip on his arm, but she held on with much determination.

“There are other ways to go about this, Ron!” Hermione said, trying to talk some sense into him.

“How? We have no time! Ginny’s probably hurting at this very minute, I saw the state of that woman. I don’t want Ginny going through that, even for a minute,” Ron said fiercely. He didn’t hold back any force when he pushed Hermione away from him. She grimaced as she fell on her backside with a hard thud. Harry came to her side to check how she was.

“Are you all right, there, Hermione?” he asked, as he helped her up. Then Hermione’s eyes rounded as Harry did something he had never done before. She froze as Harry absent-mindedly felt her bottom (“Probably checking for bruises,” Peeves told himself).

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, staring open-mouthed at Harry.

Harry just looked at her innocently, furrowed his eyebrows and mouthed a silent “what.” He shrugged his shoulders as he made her turn around so he could cover the rest of her backside. Hermione simply buried her face in her hands and let Harry carry on.

“Moving on,” Peeves thought.

Ron lunged forward at Parvati and grabbed her by the shoulders. His wand laid forgotten on the floor.

“Tell me the spell, Parvati!” he shouted at her. The whites of his eyes were flaming red, and Peeves was certain the vein on his temples would pop out.

“Parvati, don’t!” Hermione screamed. She could barely stand from her fall and was being supported by Harry.

But Parvati didn’t hear her. She was shaking in fear. Peeves couldn’t blame her; he had never seen the young Weasley look so angry and determined.

“Alright, alright. It’s ‘Mirror, mirror, show to me, him whose woman I will be,’” Parvati shrieked in one breath. The moment she had spoken the words, the room was wrapped in blinding light. For a moment that seemed like it stretched to forever, no one saw anything nor knew anything that was happening around them. Then the light vanished as if it wasn’t there before. It took Peeves a few seconds to adjust to the normal lighting once more.

Everyone was in the same place they were in before the light appeared, although Harry’s hand has left Hermione’s bottom. The light has stunned them as well, and no one was able to do anything. Everything was back to normal, except for one thing.

Justin was the first to notice. “Where’s Draco?”

Hermione immediately found the answer when she caught sight of the tiny ripple at the very centre of the mirror that quickly disappeared after she spotted it. “I believe he’s inside the mirror.”

“If he’s inside, then Ginny should’ve been set free by now. She should be here,” Justin said.

“I bet that Malfoy just took off. I always knew he was a coward,” Ron stated confidently.

“Hermione, what is it?” Harry asked. He touched his palm on her elbows and gently prodded her.

“Shh, I’m thinking,” she answered without looking at him. She was staring at the mirror as if she was in a deep trance. Everyone remained quiet as Hermione continued examining the mirror from where she was standing. She would raise her hand and trace some invisible form with her finger in the air from time to time and mutter words unfamiliar to Peeves. A quarter of an hour passed, and Hermione surprised everyone when she suddenly made a loud boom with a clap of her hands and squealed, “I’ve got it!” without much care as to who heard.

“What is it?” Harry was first to ask.

Hermione moved closer to the mirror and pointed at the carvings on the frames of the mirror. “See these, these are ancient runes symbols written like the way you see them in front of a mirror. If you translate them, it means ‘Be careful young man, should someone play a trick on you. If you fall into the trap, no woman will call you a hero, only a fool.’”

“And how does that help us?” Ron asked edgily.

“Don’t you see? It’s Diotavelli’s idea of a joke. The mirror won’t necessarily devour the one who recites the spell. It could be anyone who’s in close proximity of the mirror. And if that someone happens to be a man, the whole trading system won’t work. In this case, Malfoy was nearest the mirror. Now we also know that he really is a man.”

“So what do we do now?” Harry asked the question that no one wanted to raise.

“That part, I haven’t figured out yet,” Hermione said helplessly.

Aurora

“I have a lot of questions for you, Luz,” Aurora said meekly as they waited for Korine and Elisa’s arrival. She was sitting rather uncomfortably on the two-seater sofa with a beige schintz spread opposite the fireplace. Aurora feared she would smudge the fabric with blood or pus, and she was certain Luz would have her head for that. Luz moved away from the fire and settled herself on the sofa to the left of the one Aurora was sitting on.

“Go on,” Luz said, who wasn’t paying much attention and was busy inspecting the amount of dust that gathered on the coffee table.

“How did you manage to get that girl to sacrifice herself for me? Good old dose of Imperius,” she said. Luz was still poring over the microscopic quantity of dust.

“I didn’t. She was a comfortable incident. I was planning on getting inside the mirror myself to get you out. I’ve managed to discover how you can get out from in there. Apparently Diotavelli used his fingerprints as key to the gateway. There’s a keyhole of sorts on the third runic symbol on the left frame. I was planning on killing him and then slashing off his hand and use it to open the gateway.” Luz talked about killing and slashing people the way she used to talk about her hangnail.

“Poor girl,” Aurora remarked, “Has the mirror been in the potions dungeon the whole time?”

Luz snorted ungracefully at her question. “Of course not. Dumbledore had it moved to one of the lower bodegas at Hogwarts. There was only minor protection around it. He really didn’t know about you and me, and our history.”

“He still doesn’t?” Aurora asked, surprised.

“I know, you’d think it’d have crossed his mind after all these years. Everyone was concentrating on that old wanker Voldemort. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort. It’s all about him. He’s damn overrated if you ask me. He does make for a good diversion, though. Anyway, I put the squib caretaker under Imperius and made him place the mirror inside the Potions dungeon. I placed an undisturbed sleeping charm around Hogwarts; I wanted to make sure there wouldn’t be any interruption. At the risk of sounding like an old hag, I have to say that if it weren’t for those meddling kids, all would’ve gone as planned, and no one would ever know. We’d be in and out of there, and no one would know the better.” She finished with a loud, annoyed stomp of her foot.

“Yes, about those children. They’ve seen us. If Dumbledore gets word of what happened, and I’m certain he will, he’s going to be very suspicious,” Aurora voiced her concern.

“I’ve already thought about that. You know I still have that squib under Imperius; it’s so easy to control squibs from this distance, we’d just get him to do the dirty deed for us.” Luz gave her a wicked smile. She sat back up and leaned comfortably on the cushions.

“Dirty deed?” Aurora asked. She wasn’t sure where her sister was going at.

“Kill the little buggers. They’d probably blame it on Voldemort, like they do every other disaster that happens in Hogwarts.”

Draco

Draco felt as if the blood coursing the veins on his head was thumping madly to get out. It all happened very quickly, and he barely even had time to react. For a very long time, he felt as if he was in a stationary motion. He wasn’t moving but he was travelling. It was a very odd feeling that he couldn’t explain, and he doubted that he ever could.

He cursed the bright light and was certain that if it had lasted for a second more, it would have permanently blinded him. After what seemed like forever, but in actuality probably lasted around five seconds, his knees touched the cold floor with a jerk, and he had to use his palms to prevent his face from hitting the cement. His head was still aching, a result of the unexpected journey, he deduced.

When the light had died down, he heard a female voice call his name. Whoever she was, she sounded like she was a mile away from him. Moments later, he felt a hand come down on his shoulder. He was being shook vigorously. The hands now came up to his face and forced open the lids of his eyes.

“Draco,” the voice screamed to his face. It didn’t do much though.

He tried to focus his sight on the figure before him. All he could see was a bright shade of red. That was enough for him to realize that it was her; it was Ginny. As soon as it hit him, all his senses were suddenly re-awakened. Slowly but steadily, his hands came up to cup her face.

“Weasley, it’s you,” he said, “you called me Draco.” He managed to give her a trademark smirk, despite the insistent pain at the back of his neck. He figured it didn’t look too unfortunate as her cheeks showed a tinge of pink.

“Well, I thought the situation called for it,” she said, attempting to sound casual. She removed his hands from her face and cautiously rose to her feet. She bent down and helped lift him up by the shoulders.

“The pain in my head is killing me, I can’t think straight,” he cried. He hung his arm limply around Ginny’s shoulders. He tried to get his knees to work normally, as he didn’t think she could carry all his weight, and they’d probably fall down together.

“It will pass after a while,” she told him, placing a hand on his chest to support him. “At least it did in my case.”

“Where the hell are we, Weasley?” Draco said, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim candlelight.

“A dark room with no doors. Percy would threaten to put me in a place like this whenever I used to tromp on his collection of Celestina Warbeck records,” Ginny said.

“Your brother listens to Celestina Warbeck?” Draco asked, his brows furrowing as he tried to conceal the amusement in his face.

Draco thought that he must have really been out of it for he just now noticed the old, spindly man who has flattened himself on the wall. “Hey, who’s the old man?” he asked Ginny casually.

Ginny’s head shot straight up and looked at the direction he was staring at. She must’ve completely forgotten of his existence upon Draco’s sudden appearance.

“I actually don’t know, he doesn’t seem too dangerous though,” she said.

“He looks very feeble, I don’t think he’s capable of doing anything harmful,” Draco agreed.

“Yes, and at his dishevelled state, he’s much too weak to do any magic,” Ginny added, nodding at Draco.

The old man looked from Draco to Ginny incredulously. “Can you two not see me? I’m right here!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did we offend you?” Ginny asked sympathetically.

His face scrunched up in anger when she uttered those words. With much effort, scraped himself off the wall and walked closer to where they stood. He looked at them with menacing eyes. “Offend me? That’s the last thing you should worry about, little lady. If you think you can just come in here and kill me without a fight, you’re wrong. My magic may have deteriorated through the years, but I still have just enough in me to put you down. Aurora will never get the better of Darcy Diotavelli!”

The old man’s last words flicked a switch in Draco’s half drowsy head. Every action he committed after that was like a reflex. With one swift movement, he pushed Ginny behind him and pulled out his wand from his pocket robes. He pointed his wand straight at Diotavelli and cried “Stupefy!” A flash of blue light came out of Draco’s wand.

But Diotavelli immediately ducked down and avoided the curse. He lifted the hem of his robes and pulled out his wand from a holster tied around his calf. He aimed it at Draco and cried “Expelliarmus!” at almost the same time Draco shouted “Impedimenta!” After muttering the disarming spell, Draco’s wand flew out of his hands. He watched as it landed around five feet from him to his left.

Diotavelli was not unharmed from Draco’s curse. He was moving in excruciatingly slow motion. From his movement, Draco guessed that he was positioning himself to throw another spell at him.

“Ginny, quick, draw your wand,” Draco shouted to her as he moved to retrieve his wand. He didn’t need to tell her twice, her wand was already out and readily pointed at Diotavelli.

“Expelliarmus!” she called out.

Diotavelli’s tried to evade the spell, but the Impedimenta charm was still cast upon him; it was too late to move.

“Accio Wand!” Ginny uttered the moment the old man’s wand hit the floor. It flew to her, and she caught it deftly with her free hand.

She kept her wand pointed at Diotavelli as the old man recovered. Draco came up to her side and took Diotavelli’s wand from her and tucked it inside the waistband of his trousers.

“I guess I lost more magic throughout the years. Kill me if you want, my life serves no more purpose,” Diotavelli said, resigning himself.

“I told you, I mean no harm. I have no intentions of killing you. I only did what I did because you attacked my friend. I know he attacked you first, but I’m sure he had his reasons,” Ginny told him patiently.

Draco was dumbstruck when he heard Ginny refer to him as her friend. He could barely believe his ear when she professed how she was sure he had reasons for aggressing Diotavelli. How could she have easily trusted that he was not up to no good? And without even wanting an explanation. Even his fellow Slytherins wouldn’t have trusted him as much.

“Aurora did not send you to kill me?” Diotavelli asked, eyeing Ginny with suspicion.

“I don’t even know who this Aurora character is!” she answered exasperatedly.

“Are you talking about Aurora Belpo?” Draco interjected. Ginny looked quizzically up at him.

“I’m right! She did send you to kill me!” Diotavelli yelled frantically.

Ginny rolled her eyes, and all the patience she exhibited earlier was no more. “Once and for all, no one was sent to kill anyone! And can one of you please tell me who Aurora is!”

“I wouldn’t blame her if she did send someone to kill you! You trapped her inside this prison, and I can only imagine what kind of torture you did to her you evil bastard!” Draco bellowed, completely ignoring Ginny.

“So you are admitting that you’ve been sent here to kill me!” he answered as he lifted his pimple-infested nose up in the air.

“Didn’t you hear me earlier? No one is going to kill anyone!” Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs in attempt to get their attention.

“I don’t need anyone to send me. I can kill you on my own accord you sadist son of a bitch!” Draco threatened him, raising his wand at eye level, completely ignoring Ginny for the second time.

“Not if I kill you first!”

“You don’t have a wand!”

“I can kill you with my bare hands!”

“Are you saying that I can’t?”

“Let me see you try!”

And with that Draco abandoned his wand and lunged at Diotavelli headfirst. He was an old man, but he was still quick with his fists. He managed to land a decent jab to Draco’s ribs much to the latter’s chagrin. Draco’s rejoinder was a fist to the man’s jaw. The old man staggered backwards from the blow. He quickly picked himself up and resumed his fighting stance. Neither of them noticed Ginny conjuring two threads of red rope from air and had it tied around their hands and ankles in a flash.

“Weasley! What do you think you’re doing?!” Draco yelled as he squirmed against the ropes.

“What am I supposed to do? Let you fight it out, like men,” Ginny enunciated the last word with a tone of sarcasm. “You’re forgetting one thing, Malfoy. You’re sixteen, and he’s eighty!”

“Isn’t that a bit ageist of you?” Draco said with a slight snicker.

“Who told you I was looking out for him?” she rebutted.

“I was giving him a head start, wench,” he sneered.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Diotavelli piped up.

“You, get it through your thick skull, no one is here to kill anyone,” Ginny told him.

“Why don’t we just kill him and end his misery,” Draco suggested.

“You,” she said, her index finger pointed at Draco, “not helping.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” he asked her.

“Stay put until I get to the bottom of this. First, who is this Aurora character?” Ginny asked no one in particular.

“An innocent woman that this sick pervert over here kidnapped and kept for the last fifty years. And from what I’ve seen, he wasn’t very hesitant to torture her,” Draco answered.

“Innocent? Aurora? Innocent my arse, that woman has more evil in her than the devil himself,” Diotavelli spitted out. Draco noticed how his eyes would get a look of disgust and abomination at the mention of Aurora. But it would soon soften, and the look would be replaced with that of pain and regret, as if it was she who tormented him through the years, and not the other way around.

“It doesn’t mean she deserved what you did to her,” Draco returned.

“What I did to her? What I did to her?! I saved her for as long as I could, I gave her everything! I gave her my life, my love. And what does she do? She betrays and sends you wretched pre-schoolers here to assassinate me!” he roared, the veins on his neck popping out as the blood rushed to his face. It was anger unbeknownst to either of them, that neither Draco nor Ginny expected.

There was a pregnant silence that filled the air after Diotavelli’s sudden outburst. Draco mentally pounded himself for being so assuming, for being so righteous, for thinking that he knew everything there was to know about the man standing before him. All he knew about him was written in a textbook that Granger supplied. And he of all people should know about how those books are. They would tell you all about the gory details, the ones that the whole world already knew, never the ones that really matter, at least for people who thought it should.

Draco knew deep in his heart, that when all this is over, when the good side wins out like it always does, his father would be portrayed in every single history book as a monster. They would call him evil, a murderer, and an ugly troll. But none would ever say that he used to bring his son to Egypt to go mummy-hunting or that he would let his son sleep between him and his wife back in the days when he was still afraid of lightning (which he isn’t now, he insists). No, that part will be forgotten, they will only be memories kept in the deep recesses of his heart.

Draco was speechless; he simply did not know what to say. Fortunately, Ginny did. “For what it’s worth, I’m really not here to kill you. I don’t know about him though,” she finished, cocking her head towards Draco. He shot her an ominous look, then turned to Diotavelli, and shook his head indicating that he wasn’t there to kill him either.

Diotavelli sniffed arrogantly. “It doesn’t matter, you’ll be stuck here with me,” he said, then added, “for all eternity,” for effect.

Ginny’s head shot up, and her eyes darted frantically from Draco to Diotavelli. She searched the old man’s face for some sign that he was bluffing. When she couldn’t find any, she turned to Draco and asked without words if there was truth to what was just said. He just gave her a blank look that didn’t betray the dread churning in his stomach.

“That can’t be true, please sir, tell me that’s not true,” Ginny pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Life isn’t as bad as it seems. I’ve stocked up food for the next hundred years. I reckon you won’t live as long,” he said nonchalantly.

“Draco,” she said, running up to him. It only occurred to him now that he was still tied up.

“I’m afraid he’s telling the truth,” he said, trying to sound as calm as possible, “so it might be a good idea to get these ropes off.”

Ginny did as she was asked as she cried silently. After she undid his and Diotavelli’s ties, she looked up at him once more. “Can’t we apparate out?” she asked, her eyes showing hope and desperation.

“Can you apparate?” Draco asked her.

Ginny’s lips quickly formed into a pout, and she cried, “No,” before sobbing freely and burying her head in his chest.

Draco was taken aback by her impulsiveness. He patted her hair awkwardly. “Come now, it’ll be all right,” he said in what he thought was a soothing voice.

Ginny broke away from him. “How can it be all right?! I still want to see my parents, I want to see my brothers, I want to see my friends, and I want to marry Harry someday!” She was talking rapidly, and Draco could barely catch onto every word.

“You still have that thing for Potter? Christ, Weasley, that was--,”

“Malfoy, this really isn’t the time,” Ginny cut him off as she blew her nose at the hem of her robe. She started crying again. Draco tried consoling her by patting her shoulder lightly. He looked over to where Diotavelli was standing. The old man was observing them with a curious stare.

“They said you were a genius,” Draco said, interrupting Diotavelli’s thoughts. Ginny stopped weeping momentarily and turned to Diotavelli too. “There’s a way out, isn’t there?” Draco continued.

“What makes you so certain?” he answered with a gruff.

“The mirror,” he said, cocking his head sideways, “it still looks new. For magical artefacts to remain pristine, you have to constantly use them. Otherwise they will get old, and no amount of polishing can bring them back to their old form. You must have regularly used that to get in and out of here. Probably to go for food, I reckon.”

Ginny gasped at Draco’s display of expertise.

Diotavelli smirked. “That’s only true for an object of the dark arts. Not many wizards know that, not even grown up wizards.”

“I am my father’s son.”

“What did you say your name was?”

“I’m a Malfoy.”

“I see.” Then Diotavelli began cackling madly, and soon Draco joined him.

“Okay,” Ginny muttered to herself as she slowly backed away from the grotesque cackling men in front of her.

Harry

It was on a rare occasion like this that Harry would see Hermione absolutely helpless. She bit her lower lip, whimpered to herself softly, and then she turned to him and asked, “What now?”

The remaining six of them were standing in front of the mirror in a half circle, all subconsciously wishing for a ball of answers to drop from the air and end their misery.

“The first thing that we need to do is remain calm,” he answered.

“I am calm, and it’s not helping,” she retorted.

“Well, if you let me finish I will get to the second thing, and we may see results,” Harry told her through gritted teeth. Hermione just nodded and let him continue. “I don’t think any of us should try and follow them in there. I think that if Aurora managed to stay alive for the last fifty years in there, they can survive for a couple more hours until we find a solution. The first thing we need to do--,”

“Actually, the second thing, the first thing was the remaining calm bit,” Justin corrected him. A sickeningly sweet smile was plastered on his face.

Harry took a deep breath, sighed, and let the air sound off his nose. “Thank you very much for that reminder Justin,” he said simply.

“You’re very welcome,” Justin answered without malice.

Harry nodded curtly and continued. “What we need now is to find out what happened to the professors and to Filch. It is quite strange that after the ruckus we’ve made, we still haven’t been caught. Ron, you told us about this other woman who came down with a hippogriff and carried Aurora off with her. I get the feeling that she had something to do with this. I don’t think that the weird occurrences around the castle and her appearance could be mere a coincidence.”

Ron nodded his head. “But why would she do that?”

“Not the main focus at this moment, what we need to know is what she did. I’m guessing that it’s something that would prevent the professors from knowing her movements about the castle,” Hermione interjected.

“Perhaps she slipped them a sleeping potion,” Justin offered.

“No, that would mean she had to have been at Hogwarts even before tonight and that she had contact with the professors,” Hermione contradicted.

“Maybe she bribed the house elves to put the potion in their drinks,” Ron mused.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

“I don’t think it can be a potion. The sleeping potion would last for days, and they would certainly be suspicious if they find themselves waking up on the weekend,” Harry said.

“It has to be something that goes quickly and would not leave lasting effects that people would notice. Like a charm,” Hermione added.

Lavender cleared her throat and spoke up, “If she did, it didn’t take effect on any of us.”

“That’s true, otherwise none of us would be in this situation,” Parvati chimed in.

“And it seems the rest of Hogwarts is unaware of what’s going on, but here we are, unperturbed by whatever charm it was,” Ron thought aloud.

“Why?” Justin asked.

“Because we’re all awake,” Hermione said.

“A charm for undisturbed sleeping, that’s what she cast,” Harry finished the thought for her.

“And none of us were affected because we didn’t go to sleep?” Parvati asked.

“Makes perfect sense,” Hermione voiced out.

Harry gave her something else to think about, though. “Except for one minor glitch, Filch doesn’t sleep. How come we can’t find him?”

“I think it’s because he’s in league with whoever caused all these troubles,” Ron said, his mouth half open and eyes not leaving the reflection on the mirror.

Harry followed Ron’s line of sight and his jaw practically dropped to the floor at the scene that greeted him. Standing by the doorway was Mrs. Norris, stiffly sitting beside Filch who was holding a muggle pistol, and he was pointing it straight at Ron’s head.

Ginny

“Are you two finished cackling yet?” Ginny asked the two men in front of her. Seeing that they weren’t planning on stopping anytime soon, she stomped off to the bunk and plopped down on it with an obvious clunk. She crossed her arms over her chest, and her knees were shut tightly together and her feet firmly planted on the floor.

She shifted a little to her left when she felt the rusty spring of the mattress poking at her bum. She just sat there and watched them. She never knew anyone could laugh for such a long time without ever getting tired. Her sitting position was very uncomfortable and soon she felt her calves numbing, and pins and needles prickling her feet. She relaxed her stance a little. She lifted her knees up and put her feet up on the mattress. She slid across the bed and leaned her back against the wall.

Ginny looked at Draco curiously. “Why is he here?” she thought. She didn’t think to ask that question earlier, all she thought about was how glad she was to see a familiar face. “Is that all there is to it?” she wondered. A small voice inside her head gave her a very crisp no as answer. She tried to block the trail of thoughts that started to form in her brain. But it was no use, the moment she asked the question, it was as if she unlocked the gates of a dam, and there was no way to stop the water from flooding out.

She only knew Draco from afar, and Ron always spoke ill of him. She only knew him from what Ron said. According to Ron, he was vile, abominable, horrible, annoying, and a complete waste of energy. That’s always how she saw him, a cardboard cut out of evil. He was just a one-dimensional character that merely existed to add conflict to his brother and his friends’ lives.

He had never done anything to her directly. True, there was that time in her first year when he embarrassed her about the Valentine she sent Harry. But worse things have happened to her, and none of those things had anything to do with Draco. She hypothesized that Slytherins assigned a class bully for each year, so she wasn’t under Draco’s jurisdiction.

If he was so evil, then how come she didn’t feel threatened around him? She didn’t trust him entirely, but she didn’t doubt him either. It was a strange, strange feeling to know that she need not put up her guard around a man that had always been described to her as the epitome of malevolence.

She remembered how he shoved her protectively behind him. It was a rash movement, but his hands were gentle. Maybe it was because his hands never had to do a day’s chores in all his life, or maybe it was just because he touched her gently. He touched her gently… The words kept echoing in her head. She could remember the ghost of his hands on her shoulder, caressing, comforting, soft and perfect.

She shuddered at her own thoughts. Her mother would kill her if she knew that she was… wait, was she? Is this what this was? Ginny shook her head vigorously as if this act would rid the ideas clouding her mind. The last thing she needed was to fall again for someone she could never have. “NO, NO, NO!” she fiercely shouted at the top of her lungs, banging her fists against her thighs. She wrapped her arms around her knees, buried her head against them and sobbed hysterically.

“Um, Weasley, are you alright?” Draco asked, ceasing his mad cackling episode. He edged towards the bunk and peered cautiously at Ginny’s hidden face.

“Of course I’m not okay. I’m crying my eyes out you daft prick!” she screamed at him.

She could tell the discomfort in his face. He’d probably never seen anyone cry for reasons other than persecution and mockery.

He patted her head as if she was a French poodle. He turned away to look at Diotavelli, and he gave him a nod of approval. “We’ll be able to get out of here, it’ll be alright,” Draco said as he patted her hair away.

She slapped his hand away. “Good.” It was all there was to say. She scrambled out of the bunk, pushing Draco slightly along the way and stood in front of the mirror.

“This is the gate, right?” she asked Diotavelli without looking at him.

“Yes,” he answered, “you should thank your friend. If it weren’t for him, I would have never let you go.”

“I thank you,” Ginny said meekly.

“Not me, him,” Diotavelli said, pointing at Draco.

“It’s alright, she doesn’t have to feel indebted to me,” Draco said with his casual arrogance.

Ginny took a sidelong glance at Draco, but her eyes immediately recoiled the moment she realized his intense stare.

“I thank you from the bottom of my heart, but I really want to go home now,” Ginny said trying to keep her voice level.

She saw as Draco’s reflection nodded at Diotavelli’s reflection, and the latter nodded back.

“I just ask one thing from you,” Diotavelli’s reflection addressed the two of them.

“Yes,” they both answered almost simultaneously.

“That you keep all of this a secret, I want to live the remainder of my life in peace,” he said.

“We will,” Draco answered for the both of them.

Diotavelli walked up beside Ginny and inserted his left hand between the third patterned carvings from the top on the left frame of the mirror.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt this time,” he said in a reassuring voice, after seeing the hesitant look on her face.

The familiar rippling motion began, and Ginny already knew what was to follow. She glanced at Draco’s already distorted reflection. Despite the fact that she wasn’t looking at him, or more probably because of it, she mouthed a soft thank you. And with that she stepped into the open gates back to Hogwarts.

10. untitled

Elisa

She lifted her tiny fingers up to her eye level and examined them closely, as if she were a physician looking for some sort of evidence of a fungal infection. She shook her pretty little head with discontent and submerged both hands once more under the pinkish bubbles of her bath. She sighed to herself and blew the fringe away from her forehead.

"How long does it take for them to wrinkle?" she muttered under her breath.

She hummed the soft tune her mother used to sing her to sleep to pass time. She was just about to check on her fingers again when a soft rap came to the door.

A female voice came from the other side, "Elisa, are you finished with your bath?"

Elisa recognized the voice as Korine's, the new maid assigned to her. She took a quick look at her hands once more before answering. "My fingers haven't wrinkled up yet."

"Well, the madam is asking you to come downstairs immediately," the other answered rather impatiently.

"But I told you, my fingers haven't wrinkled up yet!" she answered, unaffected.

"Oh come now, we'll both get into trouble. You know how she gets when she doesn't see her pony for the whole day. I'm coming in now, are you decent?"

"It's not like that would stop you from coming in, now would it?" she said with a pout. Just as she had expected, Korine opened the door, fresh towels at hand. She walked towards the bath tub with short quick steps.

"Now get up from there," she said with a smile.

Elisa obliged and stepped out of the tub. She pleated her arms closer to her torso trying to block cold draft away. Korine quickly wrapped the towel around her and tucked it tightly under her chin. She used a smaller towel to dry her hair.

"Now let's get you into something nice and lovely. We have company," she said.

Elisa furrowed her eyebrows. "Isn't it a bit late for company?"

"It's not as if the madam works around normal hours. She wants you to meet this woman," Korine said as she continued to ruffle her hair.

She looked at Korine thoughtfully, and asked, "What's she like?"

"Well, she looks curious, like most of the Madam's guests. But this one seems rather nice. Something about her eyes tells me so. And the madam was exceptionally cordial to her, so I believe she's someone important," she blathered.

Elisa just nodded, but her head was in a whirl. Luz never asked anyone to meet her. In fact, she made it a point to hide her. Once, Elisa asked her why she'd never let her out of the manor. She could still feel Luz's cold breath on her ear, "Because you're mine, precious, just mine."

Elisa pulled out her hand from within the towel's wrap. She looked at the inside of her arms and observed the red cuts lined up and down her arm's length, like particular and precise cat scratches. The latest one, just above the pulse of her wrist, was already healing. Luz once offered to heal the wounds with magic. "So it won't be painful," she told her. But Elisa refused. She looked straight up at Luz's eyes and said, "Please don't. I need them to remind me, to make me brave the next time."

And now Luz wanted her to meet this woman. But for what reason, she asked herself. She wondered perhaps if the madam was going to share her with this woman. She looked down her arms once more. They didn't make her any braver.

Korine's perky voice interrupted her thoughts, "...and then she went on and on about how short my dress was. I couldn't tell her that this was the mod these days, because of that booming voice of hers. It's awfully unbecoming of such an attractive woman, no wonder she’s a spinster! But I don't think she's looking for a husband although with that attitude she never will get one, I tell you. And I think you're all dried up now. Let's get you in your room. That new pink chiffon dress the madam bought for you last week will be just perfect."

Elisa just stared at her. " I suppose so, alright then."

Elisa let Korine lead her out of the bathroom, and inside her room. She sat by her vanity as Korine proceeded to her closet. She looked at her reflection on the mirror. She hasn't changed since the first time she came here a year ago, when she first looked upon this very mirror. Her hair was a darker shade of auburn now, but her dark brown eyes remained as unflustered. Elisa studied her profile sidewise and noted that her nose was rather offset for her heart shaped face. She was a lot paler, but more due to the fact that she's never really out in the sunlight for long, if she ever was out. And probably because of that one other thing.

"Now get up, I'll put this on you," Korine told her, interrupting her thoughts once more. She did as was asked and Korine slipped the undergarments over her head before putting on the pink chiffon dress. Korine made her turn around and buttoned up the dress from the back. She then made Elisa wear the white lace stocking that she had put on the dresser. It made her itch to no end, but she knew there was no point in arguing with Korine. So she obliged, and Korine bent down to help her with her shoes. It was also pink. Elisa wondered if it was possible to die from too much pinkness. Korine went on to fix her hair in plaits and wrapped a pink ribbon around her hair. Apparently not.

Hand in hand, they headed towards the door out of the room. They walked down the hallways. The walls were painted white, just like the walls in the infirmary where she lived for a while before coming here. But the white walls of the infirmary seemed to echo death. These walls were different. There was an element of elegance; light seemed to be emanating from within those walls. It was beautiful. But there was sadness in its beauty she couldn’t seem to pinpoint or explain.

She looked up at the ceiling. Each beam had a pair of angels dangling from its arch. They looked very real, and Elisa believed she saw some of them shedding tears just the other night when she was walking towards the library.

Elisa almost forgot about it, but as they turned down the corner, she immediately shut her eyes and squeezed Korine’s hand even tighter. They were about to pass the scary picture. Closing her eyes didn’t help matters though, as she could clearly see the painting in her head. For nights she couldn’t sleep, knowing that the portrait was just a few feet away from her room. It haunted her, the vision of the man nailed to the cross. On the upper corners there were two portraits. One was of a man who wore white robes and red wooden beads around his neck. The other one was of a kind faced old man with a thin moustache whose head hung limply on one side. At first it would appear that he’s asleep, but upon close inspection Elisa discovered, much to her horror, the man was not breathing. There was a very thin incision across his neck evidenced with blood; he was dead

“We’ve passed it,” Korine whispered into her ear.

Elisa squinted and recognized the white marble stairs in front of her. “I hate that picture,” she told Korine, as she did a million times before.

They descended, both careful not to slip. When they reached the door to the living room, Korine let go of her hand and slid the entrance open.

There were two women; both of the same build, both clad in black, although the other’s dress had holes in it, both with the same silken black hair going down the length of their torso, and both engrossed at a certain glowing article in front of them.

Aurora

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

She tapped her foot impatiently before turning to her sister, “Just how many stairs do they have to pass?”

Luz rolled her eyes and dismissed her sister’s query with a wave of her hand. Aurora just gave her a long annoyed sigh before switching her attention to the crystal ball Luz was holding up. They’d been watching the idiot squib’s movements for the past quarter of an hour through the eyes of his feline friend. It was pure genius.

“How did you do that Luz?” she finally asked after having thought of it for a while. “You must have used a very complicated spell. I applaud you.”

“Well, I didn’t exactly use a spell. I just bought this little device that’s rather popular among voyeur aficionados. It’s very useful,” she said her eyes glued to the crystal ball.

Aurora eyed her sister suspiciously, “How exactly do you use this device?”

“Well, you attach it to the person or thing you expect to do the voyeur for you,” Luz answered without looking at her.

“You attached it to her neck collar, I hope?”

Aurora waited for an answer, which Luz provided rather quickly.

“Oh heavens no. I tried it, but it’s such a horrible angle. And the ball kept flipping around, I had an awful close up of her jollies as I was testing it. It was horrible. I might not be able to sleep tonight.”

“Then where did you place it?”

“I placed it on one of her eye sockets.”

“And how did you do that?”

“I took out one of her eyeballs.”

“You what?!”

“It was the perfect angle,” Luz said defensively.

“It’s totally barbaric!” Aurora exclaimed.

“Oh please, I was doing her a favor.”

“And how exactly are you doing that?!”

“She was a homely and boring cat, but with the glass voyeur ball, she’s more interesting. Gives it that added touch,” she explained, now looking at her sister.

“What added touch? She’s a cat, not furniture!”

“Oh what are you getting your knickers in a twist for? It’s not as if it’s your cat!”

“You’re unbelievable! You’re truly evil, you know that?”

“Newsflash: We’re trying to take over the world.”

“Being cruel to animals is not part of the job description.”

“It is so.”

“No it’s not.”

Luz was about to retaliate when a movement in the crystal ball caught her attention. Aurora turned to look as well. The cat had stopped moving. Its eyes moved up and down the door’s length. A filthy, non manicured hand reached for the knob and pushed the door open.

There they were, six teenagers forming a half circle around that all too familiar mirror. Aurora watched as the squib raised his arm, pointing her father’s Luger right at the redhead’s crown.

Aurora unexpectedly grabbed her sister’s arm, “Oh no, not him!”

Luz looked at her incredulously. “Why ever not?”

“I thought he was rather charming. Maybe we could save him for later,” Aurora smiled sheepishly.

Her sister raised her eyebrows at her. “You’re fifty years his senior.”

“Don’t look at me like that. I caught you looking at that blonde boy’s arse earlier,” Aurora shot back at her.

Luz merely shrugged. “Oh well, too late.”

The first shot was fired.

Harry

The second Harry saw Filch’s hand jerk, he immediately lunged at Ron with every intention to keep him out of harm’s way, no matter what. But however quick his movements were, he was no match for the speed of a muggle bullet.

The bullet, fortunately and unfortunately, hit Ron’s left shoulder. A loud echo of human weight meeting hard stone was heard as he fell forward to the ground. A horrendous shriek of pain resonated down the potions dungeons. Ron clutched his shoulder’s exit wound, trying vainly to stop the torrent of blood. His face scrunched in fear as he stared at his hand. the colour of dead roses. Harry had never seen him this frightened, not even when they met Aragog.

Harry felt numb. He felt as if someone had tied his ankles down with cold steel barnacles. He wasn’t afraid of blood. He had seen blood before. But never this much. Never flowing from the scorched flesh of his best friend. Never so consequential.

Hermione ran towards Ron, brushing Harry aside as she went. She knelt down beside him and immediately tore the sleeve of her pyjamas. He could hear her mutter fretfully, her voice sounding like it came from under a deep well, “There’s so much blood, there’s so much blood!”

She struggled with the strip of cloth, positioning it in ways to clog the current of blood. She didn’t seem to know what she was doing, but she kept going anyway. “Harry,” she said without taking her eyes off Ron, “You have to help me. We have to get him to Madam Pomfrey quickly. The puncture doesn’t seem too deep, but I really don’t know. It’s almost sunrise, so the charm must be wearing off by now.”

“What about Filch?” he asked bewilderedly.

“They’ve got it,” Hermione answered impatiently.

It was only then that he turned to look at the doorway. Lavender winked smugly at him as she kicked the head of an unconscious Filch at her feet. He wondered when that happened, how long he had blanked out, how long he just stood there. He didn’t even help them. Not that anyone needed help.

“Harry, come on!” Hermione shrieked frantically.

She took Ron by one arm and helped him to his feet. Her robes were bathed in blood, and her finger nails and hands stained deep red. He took a breath and did not let go until he was sure that it wasn’t her blood dripping from the cuffs of her pyjamas.

Ron was only half conscious at this point and they wobbled dangerously together. Hermione was about to crash but Justin came just in time, catching them both in his arms.

“I’ve got Ron,” he said rather gaily.

“Thanks.” Hermione wasn’t looking at the Hufflepuff though. She was looking at Harry strangely, eyebrows knit together.

“I’ll carry him. We’ll get there much faster that way,” Justin suggested as he hunched down and slumped Ron on his back.

Hermione gave him a curt nod before she turned to Harry once again and held his hand. “Come on, Harry.” Her hold was one of assurance.

Lavender

There they were, the dastardly dressed Filch and his bloody cat. Seriously, it was a bloody cat. She wondered how Filch did not notice that there was blood splurting out of his cat's eye socket. He didn't seem so aware of what he was doing, or was about to do, but he sure looked determined. Her heart skipped a beat. He was about to...

She heard the first shot. Then she heard a wail much like the wail of an orangutan with a migraine that she ignored. Instead, her eyes travelled down the length of Filch’s arms. She squinted her eyes, recognizing the pistol in his hand.

“Ninety seconds,” she said to herself.

With catlike grace, she leaped towards Filch. He stumbled backwards, his jaw left agape, startled at the lithe girl’s sudden attack. Her heel came in contact with his stretched out wrist as she performed a well aimed roundhouse kick. His gun flew out of his hand and screeched across the cold cement of the floor.

“What in the name of bouncing wiz---?!”

But Lavender did not let him finish as she swiftly let her right hook land on his jaw, knocking him unconscious. He landed at her feet, face first, with a sickening thud. All Mrs. Norris could do was lick the face of her lifeless master.

“Thank God for Kickboxing lessons!”

Parvati came up to her, eyes glued on the beat up Filch snoring on the floor. “Wow, Lavender. I didn’t know you could do that. Weren’t you even worried he’d shoot you?”

“Not really. I knew I had time.”

Parvati looked confused.

“He was carrying a Luger. Old pistol, circa 1900’s. Takes about a minute or so to recoil,” she continued confidently.

Parvati still looked confused.

“My father is a gun aficionado. I guess some of the things he muttered during dinner stuck,” she smiled at her.

At this point Lavender realized that Parvati’s natural look was confused.

Justin

For the first time that night, Justin had regretted wearing his five inch platform shoes. He would’ve been able to move much faster without the makeshift height. As he ran down the length of the corridor towards the infirmary, Ron’s blood splattered down the back of his robes like wine from a drunken Irish winer in an Irish winery.

Justin panicked as he felt his robe, which was soaked in cold, coarse liquid, cling to his lower back. Ron could be dying. At this very moment, Ron could be dying as Justin's hands crept up and down his back thigh to protect him from the unforgiving cold air. It could be his last feeling of a warm touch. The last vision he could be seeing was the sterile yellow of his Hufflepuff robes. The last smell he could be smelling was Justin's faint scent of chocolate nougat. The last breath he could be breathing was against Justin's sweat glazed skin.

"Oh my god! That is so Romeo and Juliet!"

"What in heaven's name are you doing?!" said Hermione's screeching voice.

Justin wheeled around to see Hermione, who had fallen on her back and was now being helped up by Harry. He had stopped so abruptly, like a mad shopper who had just spotted a fifty percent price down on leather pants, and was now parked right in front of a gargoyle sculpture, two pillars away from the infirmary's door.

As Hermione stood up and dusted her robes, Justin said to her, "Oh sorry Hermione! I didn't realize I'd knocked you down! It's just that I had an epiphany!" He was grinning like a Cheshire cat with seven blue ribbons. This was almost as exciting as the time he discovered the secret to a tighter arse.

"What?!"

"This is so Romeo and Juliet!"

"What?!"

"Oh, you know! Ron's dying and I'm pretty!"

Hermione was shaking her head so slowly that Justin was sure she had cracked a ligament on her neck and was signaling him in Morse to help her out. "Your robes are draining all of Ron's blood!"

Justin clicked his tongue at her. "Oh the shot couldn't have been less fatal. As my father used to say, very far from the gut," he said with a wink.

Harry, who was blinking as if someone just threw sand into his eyes, seemed to have finally awoken from his reverie. He moved forward and claimed Ron from Justin's shoulder without word, as if he hadn't even heard the earlier exchange. He moved towards the infirmary's door while Hermione stood in front of Justin, still shaking her head.

Justin had his right hand on his hip and leaned on his right heel. "You know, I'd look really good in a virgin white nightie."

Hermione threw up her hands and let out an exasperated "Ugh!" before turning to follow Harry down the hall.

Justin called after her, "Well, I would! I have really shapely thighs you know, well, shapelier than yours anyway."

Draco

It was true. He didn't feel any pain, but it was truly uncomfortable. Like being naked in public. He still hadn't recovered from his last trip going into the mirror. He was certain he'd pass out any moment now. He was beginning to see black, the colour that wasn't all around him. He wasn't aware of time, space or physics, for a very long time or a very short moment. There was just black.

And then he saw red. "Ginny?"

"We're okay now," she said, her voice seemed to come out of a salty throat.

The feeling entered the tip of his toes, creeping up his calves, to his thighs, up his spine, circling his neck, wetting his tongue, stinging his nose, screaming at his ears and pulling open his eyes.

"You don't look so good," she said to him. She was kneeling by his head, her knees damping the outer lobes of his ears like a soft warm washcloth.

"I don't feel so good. Who killed the lights?" he answered so gently he wasn't sure if she heard him.

"Can you move?"

He raised his arm, his palms out, signaling her to just wait for him to recover. She did as was told and just sat there waiting for him to move. After several minutes, he lifted his back and pushed his palm against the rock and dust of the cement floor. The tiny rocks pierced the skin of his palm as if desperately trying to draw blood. When he was finally on his feet, he saw that they made minute crates on his palm that had turned red, looking much like the rash on his cheek that he got that one time he had oyster sauce.

Ginny had already risen from her position. She was staring at him still, her eyes asking if he was alright.

"I'm okay," he told her. She however wasn't, he thought. Her hair was sticking out like loose threads in a spool, and her lips were chapped and dry. "You should get rest and water."

"I think I'll get water first, unless you're trying to kill me," she said, smiling at him for the first time since they met at Flourish and Blotts four years ago.

He grinned but did not say anything.

"You're not trying to kill me, are you?" she said, suddenly suspicious.

"No."

"Okay, just making sure."

Draco took a deep breath. There was something amiss. "Where did everyone go?"

Ginny looked at him, looking very much like a lost cat. "Everyone who?"

"Everyone. Potter, Granger, your brother, his boyfriend...,"

"What?! My brother has a boyfriend?! Percy's here?!"

Draco burst into laughter, although laughter here would mean just one drum like "Ha!" that came and passed so quickly it almost wasn't there. Ginny however continued his beat with a series of giggles that gave Draco an odd sensation in his hip.

"It's a long story. I'm sure they'd tell you if they were present," he said, watching her as she took in long, deep breaths, one hand resting on her chest, trying to recover from the giggling fit that attacked her.

"Why don't you tell me?" she said, looking up at him expectantly.

"No, I'm kind of tired. I want to go to bed and tomorrow...,"

"Of course. Tomorrow, we go back to normal," she said. The rock salts in her throat were back.

Draco couldn't seem to find a fitting goodbye to her. There was nothing to say, so he just started walking. But before he could move two steps away, Ginny's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. He heard her suck in her breath, holding it in for a rather long time.

"What is it?"

She pointed her index finger to the floor. There were several tie dye-like patterns of dark, drying liquid. The patterns shaped into footsteps (that suspiciously resembled platform heels) running towards the door and outside. She said it before he could even process it.

"It's blood"

He nodded.

"It's Ron's blood."

"We don't know that."

She gripped his arm tighter, so tight he momentarily considered that he was having cardiac arrest. "I know it! I can feel it. You know that feeling, when you just know something terrible has happened. There's that pain in your gut and you find it hard to breathe?"

"Actually yes, my nanny had that a lot. Like that one time she was helping me put on my shoes and suddenly she was hyperventilating and was very red with fear. The next day, 'The Kneazles' broke up," he said in one breath. He wasn't sure exactly why he said that, but he thought it might amuse her and take her mind off the blood stains on the floor.

"Are you trying to make a joke?" she asked him, her lips curled like a downward crescent moon, her eyes just about ready to pop tears.

Once more he was at a loss for words. He figured his trademark smirk wouldn't work either.

"Following the footsteps might be a good idea."

She simply nodded, still gripping his arm as if egging him to lead her.

"I suppose you want me to come with you?"

She gave him a smile, although it wasn't a very inviting one. She looked like she had flatulence.

"Right then, let's go."

Hermione

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione shouted as she ran the aisle of the infirmary, the beds passing her like a sea of white light. She saw the shadow of a woman's form behind the yellowing curtain divider.

"Madam Pomfrey! Wake up!" she screamed, running behind the curtain. She found Madam Pomfrey slumped on her desk, still in her day clothes, face hidden behind her circled arms and apparently in deep slumber.

Hermione walked towards the table and shook the nurse's arms with both hands. "Please wake up, please wake up," she muttered under her breath. She looked to her right; the morning sun was now peeking through the opaque glass, making square yard windows of light on the floor. The sun is up, so the spell has got to be worn off by now, she thought.

"Madam Pomfrey, wake up! Please!" Hermione said, shaking her with all her might.

Madam Pomfrey awoke with a jerk, as if someone had just lunged a needle in her spine.

"Oh good, you're awake. Please help us. My friend Ron, he's been shot!" Madam Pomfrey still seemed disoriented, but Hermione didn't think they had the time to wait for her to fully come to.

The nurse blinked at Hermione, as if looking for the right name to address her by. "Shot? With an arrow?"

"No, a gunshot. A gunshot wound to the shoulder!"

Madam Pomfrey was so startled by this that she jumped back in her chair, and it teetered dangerously for a few seconds before balancing itself back. "Gunshot?! Good heavens, how could anyone get a gunshot wound here in Hogwarts?"

Hermione knocked her fists together in frustration. There was no time for questions. "It's a long story!"

"Alright then, where is he?" Madam Pomfrey said. Her hand crept along the surface of her table looking for an empty space to lean on so she could stand up.

"He's there," Hermione said, pointing towards the bed nearest the door where Harry and Justin had laid Ron down. Justin was standing by the foot of the bed, hands clasped in prayer as Harry was kneeling beside Ron, his hand putting pressure on Ron's wound.

Madam Pomfrey rushed towards Ron's direction, her petticoat flurrying after her. Hermione followed suit.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Madam Pomfrey mumbled, "I've never had to deal with a wound caused by muggle weapons. Let's see what the reference books say about this."

She rushed towards the armoire on the opposite side of Ron's bed. She removed the thick iron locks and opened the oak doors to reveal a shelf lined up with books in bright pumpkin colours that were as thin as the nursery rhymes books Hermione's parents bought her when she was but a wee five-year old. Madam Pomfrey pulled one out of the stack, and Hermione read, in big bold letters much like the ones in tabloid prints, "The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle."

"That's your reference book?" Hermione asked weakly.

Madam Pomfrey looked at her oddly and said, "Why yes, yes it is. I hear it's full of useful information regarding muggle maladies like this. Now let's see here, Martin just got shot by this other man Arjen and now his partner Roger Rurtaugh, who is rather distraught by this, is performing first aid on him."

Justin, who was finished reciting all the prayers he learned from Sunday school, piped up, "That sounds very exciting Madam Pomfrey, do continue! I think Martin and Roger would make a great couple by the way!"

"It actually is very exciting. But I have a wound to clean up and bandages to expend all to be done in a sterile environment and I cannot do this all with you three in here. Out! Out!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, shooing Harry, Hermione and Justin with Martin Miggs' adventures in her hand.

The three of them reluctantly passed the wooden doors of the infirmary. Behind them, there was a loud click of metal, which meant that Madam Pomfrey had locked the doors. Hermione bit her lower lip; she could taste the salty sweat coming from just above her chin. Her palms were still drenched in ice-cold sweat. Even though logic told her that it wasn't a fatal wound, that Ron was safe from any more harm, her heart would still not stop pounding.

"Don't worry, he's safe," Harry said behind her. He placed an arm around her shoulder. She could feel it shake like they did when Harry gets cold.

"I know he's safe, but you can't stop me from worrying," she answered. She wrapped both of her arms around his waist, and closing her eyes, buried her head in the nook of his shoulder.

From not so far away, she heard a pair of footsteps, running towards their direction. She opened her eyes to see Lavender and Parvati, approaching them, both out of breath.

"We were lost!" Parvati said first.

"You were lost on the way to the infirmary?" Harry asked her doubtfully.

"Okay I'm lying. We had to go change our clothes. It was getting really sticky and dusty. But we did so hurriedly so we could come down here and ask how Ron was," she finished with a grin on her face. Hermione couldn't help but be amused.

"So how is Ron?" Lavender asked, though her query did not match the gleam in her eyes, which were shining like glazed donuts.

Justin answered, "He's fine. Madam Pomfrey's taking care of him as we speak."

"That's good then," she said.

After a few moments, Peeves, whose orange bowtie was now a somber shade of red (Maybe it’s like a moodtie, Hermione thought) bounced towards them.

"Filch is dead!!!!" Peeves wailed, muddy tears coming out of his eyes like a fountain.

"He's not dead. He's just knocked out," Lavender reassured him, "speaking of Filch, what happened to him?"

Justin nodded. "I knew he was a jerk, but I didn't think he was a homicidal jerk."

"I don't think he was himself," Hermione voiced.

"Just the same," Harry said darkly, untangling his fingers in Hermione's hair, "we should go back there and tie him up. In case he decides to shoot students out at night instead of giving them detention."

Everyone agreed with Harry, and all walked back towards the big room with the mirror, except for Justin who wanted to stay and wait for word from Madam Pomfrey and Peeves, who wanted to take down the streamers in the third floor corridor since Filch wasn't dead.

Ginny

"Do you mind letting go of my arm? I'd like to make use of it someday," Draco asked Ginny impatiently.

"But I need to hold onto something when I'm nervous," she pleaded with him.

"Alright, just loosen your hold a bit. I bruise easily," he conceded.

Ginny nodded. They were about to make a move towards the door when Draco shushed her.

"What is it?"

"There's someone in here," he said in a whisper. He motioned towards the far left corner of the room. It was very dark and all Ginny could see was what seemed to be a huge pile of dog poo.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know."

Both their questions were answered when the shadow of cat leaped atop the figure. The frisky fur and the orb the size of a golf ball tied to its collar gave it away.

"Mrs. Norris? What's she doing here?" Ginny asked.

"Where Mrs. Norris is, Filch is there to follow," Draco answered.

"Isn't it the other way around?"

"No, I'm pretty sure Filch is Mrs. Norris' bitch."

"How disturbing."

The figure on the floor seemed to be heaving deep breaths. Draco and Ginny instinctively moved closer together. "I think we should get out of here before he wakes up," Ginny whispered.

Draco nodded and moved closer to the door pulling Ginny along with him. They didn't dare take their eyes off Filch.

"Ginny!"

"Hermione!"

"Ginny!"

Ginny let go of Draco's arm and ran towards Hermione. Hermione flung her arms around, Ginny and she did the same.

Draco smirked as he watched the two girls, "Now that's what we're talking about. Granger, why don't you give Weasley a little kiss?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ginny had only noticed that Harry, as well as Lavender and Parvati, was there.

"You shut up, Potter. You're ruining the moment."

"Both of you shut up," Ginny said without much conviction. She still felt the sting when Draco had called her Weasley.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? How'd you get back?" Hermione asked her, grabbing her by the shoulders and scanning Ginny's face.

"I'm fine, just exhausted," Ginny said.

"Now that we know she's okay, why don't we tie up Filch to make sure she remains okay," Lavender interrupted.

"Tie up Filch?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, Lavender?" Hermione said.

"Already ahead of you. Accio! Rope!" Lavender summoned. In a matter of seconds, the rope came careening into Lavender's awaiting hand. She and Harry headed for the still unconscious Filch.

"Why're we tying up Filch?" Ginny asked again, still confused.

Draco offered an explanation, "Maybe we're in a dimension where everyone's kinky and indiscriminate."

Hermione ignored him though Ginny could not suppress a guffaw. "Ginny, Filch, shot Ron."

Ginny was stumped. She could feel her heart dropping to her diaphragm. "Ron?! I had forgotten about Ron! Hermione, where is he? He's alive, isn't he?"

Hermione rubbed the sides of her arms to calm her. "Don't worry, he's fine. Madam Pomfrey is taking care of him."

"I have to go to him," Ginny said, tears falling freely now.

"Of course, I'll come with you," Hermione offered.

"No."

"What?"

"I mean, never mind." Ginny had wanted to say that she'd rather Draco come with her, but it wouldn't make sense. She wiped away the tears on her cheek with her sleeves leaving wet dirt stains on them.

"Okay then, come on." Hermione led her outside, holding her hand tightly. Parvati went to her other side and offered her hand as well.

Ginny couldn't see him, but behind her, she knew he followed them quietly.

Ron

He opened his eyes only to discover that his sight seemed to be obscured with hot air. There was pulsating pain in his neck, and his shoulder felt as if it was being burned by iron clamps dipped in fire. He twisted his head to his side. He could see Ginny had fallen asleep on a wooden arm chair, painted white. She was out of harm's way. He was ready to fall back asleep knowing that. Then he saw a blond boy kneeling in front of her. A boy with silvery blond hair.

Please let it be Justin, he thought before passing out again.

Harry

"Where'd Malfoy go?" Harry asked Lavender who was busy tying a sailor knot on Filch's wrists.

"I think he went with Ginny, Hermione and Parvati," she answered, "there, that should do it." She patted the knot affectionately, as if she had just created her obra.

"Why would he do that?" Harry pondered aloud.

"I really don't know Harry, why don't you go ask him," Lavender said as she blew away a fringe blocking her left eye.

"When did you stop being all giggly?" Harry asked.

"That's really tactful of you," she answered with annoyance.

"No, seriously, when did this happen?"

"Right around the time you started spending an hour in the bathroom combing your hair," she said looking straight at him.

Harry blushed, "I really was combing my hair. My hair is hard to tame."

"And Parvati doesn't like pink."

"Are you finished with that knot?"

"Yes, actually, just one more thing." Lavender kicked the top of Filch’s head.

"Was that really necessary?"

"He was about to wake up and we can't have that!"

Harry wrinkled his nose. He supposed she was right. He and Lavender walked out of the room and followed Hermione and everyone else.

When they had reached the infirmary, Harry saw that Madam Pomfrey was now outside and talking to Justin, who seemed jolly enough. Ron's probably alright by now, Harry thought. Madam Pomfrey appeared to be in a rush and quickly walked back inside before they could get nearer.

He and Lavender approached the two. Justin waved jovially at them both. "He's fine now! Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are on their way here!"

Harry's heart sank. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain this to them, especially Mrs. Weasley.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

Justin pointed inside the infirmary. "She's in there with Ginny and Parvati, talking to McGonagall. I have to wait here for Sprout."

"Are we in trouble?" Harry asked nervously.

"I hope not. It's not like we chose for this to happen," Justin said seriously.

"Well, we better go in there, then," Harry said. He walked towards where Hermione and the rest are, Lavender trailing behind him. He noticed that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

From his vantage, he could see the vein on McGonagall's forehead almost ready to pop out. She was still wearing her night cap.

"Mister Potter, Miss Brown, I'm glad you two could join us," said McGonagall's unwelcoming voice.

Harry smiled at her sheepishly. He stood behind Hermione, who was sandwiched between Ginny and Parvati. Lavender walked to his side.

"As you may have already heard from the parrot Finch-Fletchley, your friend Mister Weasley is going to be alright. Professor Snape has kindly cooked up a potion to relieve the pain," she told them.

"Professor Snape's here?" Harry asked.

"He's in the Supplies room with Mister Malfoy," she said with a dismissing tone, "I have talked to your fellow students and have learned of the night's events from them. Have you two anything to add?"

Harry and Lavender shook their heads.

"Very well then, Professor Dumbledore shall be speaking with all of you this afternoon when you've all freshened up and had some sleep. I hear it was a very long night," she finished. She looked each of them in the eye as if waiting for them to say something more. When none of them spoke, she turned her heel and walked away.

They all stood in silence before Parvati broke it with an airy yawn. "I think I'm going to get some sleep. I have a feeling we'd be getting a lot of telling off in the next few hours."

"I think you're right, for once," Lavender chimed, stretching her arms and her mouth out like a cat in the morning. "You three coming?"

"I'll stay here," Ginny said, "I have to wait for Mum and Dad to arrive. Harry, Hermione, why don't you two go ahead?"

"I'm not really that sleepy. I want to see Ron when he wakes up," Hermione said.

"Me too," said Harry, "maybe we could go get some breakfast first."

"That sounds good." Hermione smiled at him. "Ginny?"

"No, you two go ahead. I'll stay here."

Harry, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati said their goodbyes to Ginny before heading out to their own destinations.

Draco

They had been staring at each other for the past quarter of an hour. He didn't understand why he was even there, it wasn't like he was hurt. Not that he ever came when he was.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Draco, don't talk like a little rebel. You know I don't have any tolerance for adolescent angst," Lucius said in that airy, condescending tone of his.

"Why're you here?" Draco asked him, trying to match the aristocracy of his father's voice.

"I heard from Severus that you have met him," his father said. He took his black satin gloves off in an excruciatingly slow manner it made Draco's left eye twitch.

"Yes, I have," Draco answered.

"Well, how is he?"

"Old. And pungent."

"He didn't change much then."

Draco grinned half-heartedly. "Is there a real reason why you're here?"

"I wanted to see if you're alright," Lucius said sincerely.

"I am. Please tell Mother as well," Draco asked him politely and continued, "I would like to be excused father. I'm exhausted and would very much appreciate sleep."

"Do as you please, my son," he said, waving his hand in permission. Draco stood up and walked towards the door. Before he turned the knob, he let his father in on a little secret.

"Oh and Father, I've redeemed your favor for you." He didn't wait for an answer.

Outside the supplies room he passed Ron Weasley's bunk. Ginny was sleeping on a chair at the end of his bed. Her face was clean and free from tears but her hair still stuck out like loose threads in a spool. She shivered slightly; her pink jumper was falling off her shoulder. He kneeled before her and raised it to cover her shoulder, patting it to secure it in place.

"Good night, Ginny."

Ron

The hot air was gone from his vision now. He looked to his right to see if Ginny was still around. The chair was empty. Ron sighed, at least there wasn't a blond boy in sight either. He could hear shuffling on his left, and turned to see Hermione's bushy head slouched on his bed. He reached out to prod her awake.

"Ron! You're awake!" Hermione lunged at him and gave him a tight hug.

"Pain, pain! Arrgghh!"

"Oh I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, freeing Ron from her embrace.

"Glad you're okay now mate. You've been asleep for five hours," said Harry who appeared behind Hermione.

"Me too. Just keep octopus arms here away from me, and I'll be on the road to full recovery," Ron said.

"I said I'm sorry!"

Ron ignored her. There were other important matters to discuss. "So how long has this been going on?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"I don't think this is the right time to discuss this," Hermione said. Harry nodded furiously in agreement.

"I don't care, I want to discuss it now," Ron demanded.

"Ron…," Hermione tried to plead with him.

"I'm the one lying on the bed with three hundred yards of bandage on my shoulder! Now tell me, how long has this been going on!"

Harry took a deep breath. "Not even twenty-four hours. We weren't even planning on keeping this from you."

"Right."

"That's the truth, Ron." Hermione said.

"I don't believe you! I bet, I bet this has been going on since...since... we were in first year!"

"What? That's preposterous!"

“That’s probably why McGonagall took so many points off Gryffindor back in first year! She caught you snogging in the astronomy tower!”

"Ron, we were eleven!"

"Well, you were too mature for your age even then! You could've easily manipulated Harry!"

"Don't be ridiculous! Tell him Harry!"

Harry, who was deep in thought, voiced, "Well, as I recall, your hand did in fact touch my thigh a couple of times during the night."

Ron, who seemed validated, continued, "And that's why it took you so long to get to me at the Shrieking Shack!"

"You know, she grabbed my arm a lot then too."

"And that's how you were so sure he wasn't a bad kisser, because you've already tried kissing him a couple of times! Oh I could a smell that fish coming from far away!"

Hermione, who had been speechless all this time, stomped her foot on the floor and walked out of the infirmary dragging her feet like they were two huge books, muttering, "You've absolutely gone nutters," under her breath.

Ron tried to suppress his laughter. But Harry couldn't. It didn't take them so long to be laughing together again.

"You didn't really believe everything you just said now, did you?" Harry asked, holding onto his stomach trying to control the sniffles.

Ron shook his head. They smiled at each other. Everything was alright now.

Dumbledore

He sat in his office, staring at the silvery mirror of his pensieve. He leaned back on his chair, hands clasped together in front of his mouth. He thought she had died. He was against her parents' plans for her, but he could do nothing. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he was relieved to know that she was gone.

And now, it seems that she never was gone. Draco, Ron, and Justin had seen her. She retrieved Aurora. He was afraid of what she might do. What she could do. He wished he knew, but at the same time he wished he never would have to. The dawn had arrived.

A/N Thanks to Sabs for the beta, again I'm inviting you to join http://groups.yahoo.com/group/hp_maydayeve which is a place where I basically keep my fics. Heh. Please review!