Harry Potter and the Daoimear de Dán
by Apolla

Rating: PG13
Ship: Harry & Hermione
Canon: Books 1 - 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance
Status: Complete
Length: 73,554 words in 12 chapters
Published: 23 Jan 2004
Last updated: 12 Feb 2004

It's Harry's Seventh Year and the war is looming on the horizon. Harry receives a book that once belonged to his mother
and may hold the answer to defeating Voldemort. Why didn't Voldemort want to kill Lily Potter? The book holds the key to
the answer to this question and others Harry hasn't even considered yet. Meanwhile, our heroes must grow up and prepare
for battle while grappling with love, hate, jealousy and all your typical Hogwarts goings-on during this action-packed
year. Written and posted elsewhere pre-OotP.

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/1643/

------------------------------------------------------------------------

1. In Which We Set Our Scene

Chapter One- In Which We Set Our Scene

Halloween 1981, Godric's Hollow.

“Get out of the way!” Lord Voldemort's voice was harsh and tight as he attempted to bat Lily Potter out of his way.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” Lily refused to back down and stood fast in front of her son.

“Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now...”

“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-” she insisted, her voice strangely calm and composed. Within seconds, a
green flash of light had ended Lily Potter's life. Within a minute, Voldemort was gone and Harry was safe. Lily had
saved her son's life at the expense of her own.

***

1st November 1981. London, England.

A young woman slumped into the corner booth in Egan’s public house, Kilburn.

“She's dead. I just heard,” she told the silver-haired woman sitting opposite.

“Dead? Truly? How?” the older woman asked.

“The wizard who's been terrorising the magical community for a decade. It seems to be that her son stopped him.”

“The wizard's gone?”

“Yes.”

“That's a cause for celebration! The drinks are on me!” the older woman said, slapping a five pound note on the table.

“But she's dead. What are we to do?” the young woman pressed on.

“Find the next one. There's always another,” the older woman said calmly.

“But...”

“No buts, Clara. We will prepare tonight.”

***

The room was ready. The older woman now wore heavy looking ceremonial robes of deepest green, an ornate gold brooch
holding them together.

“Are we ready?” she asked. The girl known as Clara nodded.

“Yes Grandmother. We're ready.”

The old woman knelt down in front of something that looked a little bit like a pensieve. But unlike such a wizard item,
the bowl was covered in ancient Gaelic script rather than runes.

She began chanting very softly in a language so old that many considered it to be lost forever. Even the language
derived from it was now only spoken in a very small area of Ireland by a minority.

She put her hands into the bowl and pitched forward quite dramatically. Just as it looked like she would fall face down
into the bowl, she sat up again, quite clearly in a trance.

“Daughters of Maeve... She who will save us has come,” she said in a voice that was not her own. “She will bring
destruction and death or love and peace.”

Then she pitched forward again and this time didn't pull back.

“Grandmother!” Clara exclaimed. The old woman sat up, slightly dazed but looking quite pleased.

“The one we've been waiting for has arrived, and right here in Kilburn,” she said. “Get my coat, Clara. We're off to pay
our respects to the Heir before we welcome the new one.”

***

“She's just a child!” Clara exclaimed. Her grandmother had just taken her to see the new Heir. She had turned out to be
a small girl of two years.

“You're just a child,” her grandmother sounded distinctly amused.

“I'm twenty three!”

“She will be much the same age when she must face her destiny.”

“But she's so unpleasant! Did you see what she did to the other child? She actually pulled chunks of his hair out! I'm
sure I saw some scalp too!”

“Clara, do calm down. Much can happen in fifteen years. She will be ready.”

“Oh she will?” Clara sounded particularly sceptical.

“I have no doubt. She is the Heir. It is her destiny.”

“But what of the other child? The boy who lived?”

“He is not our concern.”

“But he's the Heir's son! He stopped that Lord Thingy!” Clara stumbled upon thinking of the name.

“Voldemort, dear.”

“Yes, him. That's not normal. I did some research and nobody has ever survived that curse. Until now,” she said
ominously.

“Yes. His mother really was very powerful. These things happen for a reason. Although I'm disappointed that the new Heir
is not magical.”

“We should've protected Lily Evans more closely.”

“That would have given us away. I think she had more pressing matters to deal with. But be assured, when this supposed
Lord returns, which I'm sure he will, he will deal with our wrath. The new Heir will avenge the death of the old. That
is the way it has always been done and the way it will continue to be done,” the old woman told her.

“But what happens in the meantime?”

“I suggest a pint of stout,” the older woman said with a twinkle in her eye. “I'm terribly thirsty.”

***

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. September 1997.

It was the start of a new school year at Hogwarts. For Harry Potter and his friends, it was also the last year that they
would spend at the school. His best friend Hermione Granger had been named Head Girl, surprising nobody, while he was
continuing the job he’d held since sixth year: Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

“Here, Harry!” Ron whispered as the Sorting went on. Harry turned to his other best friend, Ron Weasley.

“Yes?”

“Ginny just gave me the pictures,” he said, waving a sheaf of pictures at him.

“From Fred and Angelina’s wedding?” cut in Hermione. Two weeks previously, Ron’s older brother Fred had married his
girlfriend Angelina Johnson at the Burrow.

“Yeah. There’s some of you here, look!” said Ron, flicking a picture over to Hermione and passing some of them to Harry.

“I can’t believe what the Daily Prophet did,” hissed Harry. Ron just smiled supportively. A report in the Daily Prophet
about the wedding had turned into another ‘The Wonder of Harry Potter’ articles, barely even mentioning the newlyweds.
This despite Fred being one of the most successful young businessmen in magical Britain and Angelina being the star
chaser for the Chudley Cannons.

“Fred and Angie didn’t mind. Found it funny, actually,” he said.

“They find everything funny.”

“Shh!” Hermione suddenly cut in. Turning to glare at her, Harry realised that the Sorting was over and Professor
Dumbledore had begun speaking.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts,” he began in his usual friendly tones. “This year, I’m pleased to announce that
Professor Figg is returning as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Cheering filled the room. Professor Arabella Figg (Mrs Figg to Harry and a member of the Order of the Phoenix) had
joined the staff as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher the year before and was breaking a record by returning for
a second year.

“The Dark Forest,” continued Dumbledore, “is still out of bounds to all students. This year, I am pleased to announce
that the positions of Head Boy and Head Girl have been filled by Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.”

Polite clapping filled the room although it was decidedly noisier at the Gryffindor table.

“And now, let the feast begin!”

Food filled the plates and bowls on every table and noisy chatter filled the room as everyone continued catching up on
their summer news. Harry, Hermione and Ron had shared a compartment on the train and had done most of their catching up
already.

“Are they back from Egypt yet?” Hermione asked Ron. Fred and Angelina had gone to Egypt for their honeymoon, courtesy of
eldest Weasley brother Bill.

“Yeah. They only stayed for twelve days. Fred didn’t want to leave the Wheezes in George’s care for too long.”

“How is George?” asked Harry. “Still going out with the date he took to the wedding?”

“Jade? Yeah. She’s quite nice actually, stayed over at the Burrow last week. Shame you had to go back to the Dursleys.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed fervently. “Although they were almost pleasant to me once I got back.”

“They were?” asked Hermione curiously, for the Dursleys were not known for goodwill towards their nephew.

“Yes. I think it was because I’d spent time with my terrifying convict godfather.”

“How is Snuffles by the way?”

“Fine, I think. He got the Marauders Map back somehow. He gave it to me with strict instructions to get up to plenty of
mischief. Oh, and he said he’d talk to me through the fire the day after tomorrow.”

***

The next two days passed quite quickly as everyone settled back into school life. Harry found himself glad as always to
be back and once again marvelled at how much more like home Hogwarts was when compared to Privet Drive. On the third day
back at school, the late hours of the night found Harry in the common room with Ron and Hermione, waiting for Sirius'
head to appear in the fire.

“Harry!” Sirius exclaimed as his head popped into view. “Sorry I'm late.”

“Dementor troubles?”

“No. But I have had news that the Death Eaters are stepping up their recruitment.”

“I know,” Harry said. “One of the Slytherins got a black letter today.”

“They're recruiting students now? Already?” Sirius looked surprised and dismayed. “What happened?”

“Professor Dumbledore calmed the girl down. She was hysterical. I know Blaise. She's really quite nice once you get past
the Slytherin thing,” said Hermione.

“Good. You all need to stick together better than ever before,” said Sirius sagely. “How about the Malfoy boy?”

“He's...” Harry trailed off. How had Draco been? He hadn't noticed. Which was odd. “He's been very quiet. Which I don't
like in the slightest.”

“Perhaps you could keep an eye on him. Lucius Malfoy is a black-hearted, evil blond... git!” snarled Sirius.

“How are you, Sirius?” Harry asked seriously. Sirius smiled his most winning smile.

“Fine. I've been hiding out at Remus' house. He says hello to all of you by the way.”

“Is he OK?”

“He's fine. Better now that I can accompany him on Full Moons. I'd forgotten how much I missed all that, you know.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. Sirius smiled again, a little sadly. Then he remembered something. “Oh Harry, Remus found this
book at his house. It was your mother's. Perhaps you'd like it?”

Sirius' hand materialised in the flames and Harry took the book from him.

“The Táin Bó Cuailnge,” Harry read out, attempting the correct pronunciation although he had no idea if he got it right.
He handed it to Hermione, who immediately began flicking through it.

“The title means ‘The Cattle Raid of Cooley’.” Sirius added. “I don't know why she gave it to Moony, but she gave it to
him when they packed up before going to the Hollow," Sirius trailed off as he thought back to those times.

“Thank you Sirius,” said Harry with a warm smile.

“I'll see you soon, I hope.”

“I hope so too. Look after yourself,” Harry instructed.

“Of course. You do the same.”

Then Sirius was gone. Harry turned to his friends.

“Why did my mother leave me a book?”

“I think the question should be why did she leave you this book,” Ron said.

“I don't know much about ancient Ireland,” began Hermione.

“Finally, something she doesn't know!” Ron exclaimed triumphantly. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“But I think that this is about a war between clans. I'll look in the library tomorrow for you, if you like.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled at her.

“It's late. I'm going to bed,” she told them.

“Night Hermione,” they both said before she headed up the stairs.

“You know, I think she gets prettier every day,” said Ron. Harry looked at him quite surprised at the turn the
conversation had taken.

“You think so?”

“Don’t you? I’m not saying I fancy her... I don’t. I mean, we drive each other crackers half the time, but I mean,
there’s no mistaking her as anything other than a girl now, is there? Not like during Fourth year and the Yule Ball.”

“That was a particularly smooth moment on your part,” said Harry with a smirk. “So, you think she’s pretty?”

“Yes. Didn’t you see her at the wedding?” asked Ron. Harry’s cheeks went slightly pink. He had noticed Hermione at the
wedding.

“Yes. I know what you mean,” he admitted. “But she’s Hermione, Ron. She’s our best friend.”

“Yeah? And?” Ron asked, looking for all the world as if he could tell what Harry was thinking. “Does that mean we’re not
allowed to notice?”

“Suppose not,” said Harry, yawning loudly. “I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll be up soon. I want to finish reading this feature on Angelina and the chasers,” Ron told him, holding up Cannon
Fodder, the official Chudley Cannons supporters’ magazine.

“I’ll leave you with it then. Night Ron.”

“Night Harry,” he mumbled, becoming engrossed in the magazine.

***

“Morning children!” Harry called as he sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, his hair still glistening with
beads of water.

“Embargo on towels, is there?” Hermione cracked.

“I woke up late, and I had to shower. But I don't want to miss the most important meal of the day now, do I?”

“Quite true. But the back of your robe is soaking.”

“It'll dry.”

“It's September. You'll catch a cold,” Hermione said, handing Parvati the toast.

“I'll go to Madam Pomfrey for Pepper-Up Potion.”

“What if she doesn't give you any when she finds out how you got sick?”

“I'll sneeze all over you!” he shot back. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“That's disgusting! God, you boys!”

“It was a joke!”

“You really know the way to a girl's heart, don't you Harry?” asked Parvati through her laughter. "Germs."

The assembled Gryffindors all laughed loudly.

“It's Mock Potter Week again, isn't it?” Harry asked. “Did I not get the flyer again?”

“Aww, are little Harry's feelings hurt?” Ron asked. Harry sniffed sadly, although his eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Yes.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione started “while you're in Divination this morning, I'll go and find out about that book for you.”

“Don’t you have Arithmancy this morning?” asked Ron. She shook her head.

“Professor Vector gave us a free lesson for research. But I can do that later. I’ll research this first.”

“Thanks. I still can't imagine why my mother left me a book,” said Harry.

“Well, I'll try and find out.”

“Mr Potter!” Professor McGonagall called out, walking briskly over to them.

“Yes Professor?”

“Professor Dumbledore would like to see you. You may miss Divination,” she said. Harry could've sworn he saw a slight
twinkle in her eye, knowing her disdain for Divination.

“Yes, Professor.”

“What do you suppose it's about?” Ron asked.

“Probably Sirius. He knows I spoke to him yesterday. I should go up now. See you later.”

“Come to the library when you've finished,” Hermione told him. “You can help me.”

“All right,” he said with a nod. Then he headed out of the Great Hall.

***

After a brief meeting with Dumbledore, Harry went into the near-deserted library and headed to the table he knew he
would find Hermione at- a secluded table by the window, far from the prying eyes of other students or Madam Pince.

“Found anything?” he asked. She jumped a foot in the air.

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” she hissed. He grinned and sat down opposite her.

“Sorry. Did you find anything?”

“Lots. But nothing I can possibly link to your mother. This stuff happened at the same time that Jesus was around.
Battles between clans, cattle and all kinds of odd stuff.”

“What's it about?”

“It's a story. Apparently it’s the oldest story in Europe that was written in the vernacular... Vernacular means...”

“Written in the language of the common people,” Harry finished for her. “I was awake in that class too.”

“Oh. Well anyway, it's about a cattle raid...”

“So it's not just a clever title?”

“Shut up. Queen Maeve of Connaught was equal to her husband in wealth except for a white bull he owned. She wanted a
bull of equal worth, but the only one was in Ulster. the Brown Bull of Cooley. It belonged to King Conochobar, who it
turns out, she was married to, or was to be married to or something... It's terribly confusing. Connaught and Ulster had
a deep hatred going on, and there's a curse and the son of a god and...” Hermione sighed.

“Not bad for fifteen minutes reading,” he said, impressed.

“There's so much! Everyone says it slightly differently. All I can tell is that there's a Queen called Maeve and a King
called Conor and his warrior Cu Chulainn. And I'm not even sure how to pronounce most of the words.”

“Well, give me a book,” Harry instructed her. “And we'll get Ron on it too.”

“All right,” she handed him a heavy looking book. “Are you sure? I mean, maybe it's just a book.”

“Yes. But you might remember that my parents' house was destroyed, along with everything in it. My father gave
Dumbledore the cloak for safekeeping, so why did my mother feel she needed to give Remus the book?”

“Maybe he just borrowed it from her before, you know.”

“No, that's not what Sirius said. And her name was Evans, that's Welsh, isn't it?”

“Yes. But it's entirely possible that somewhere along the line she has Irish ancestors. I know I do,” she said
conversationally.

“You do?”

“Yes. My great-grandmother's family came to England during the potato famine. I bet over half the people in Britain have
Irish in them.”

“Oh. But why my mother? Why would she have this book?”

“I don't know. But if you keep asking me all these questions, we won't get to read and find the answers.”

“Sorry,” he said before focusing his attention on the book in front of him. Perhaps not all his attention, his mind told
him as he looked over at the bushy haired girl sitting opposite.

***

They didn't look up until lunchtime, when Ron arrived.

“Haven't you found anything yet?”

“Lots, Ron. None of it useful. But if you want to know about Pre-Neolithic ruins in County Louth, I'm your girl,” said
Hermione dryly.

“Let's stop,” declared Harry. “I'm starving.”

“Me too,” said Hermione, admitting defeat for the time being. They trooped out of the library and down into the Great
Hall.

“I just... I know there's a reason she kept the book safe,” Harry said.

“I know, and we'll find it,” said Hermione reassuringly. He smiled at her.

“Yeah. I know.”

“Cheer up Harry!” she said brightly. “We'll come back after lunch. The answer’s here, we just have to find it.”

***

Hours later, while most students were settled into their common rooms enjoying riotous games of Exploding Snap or the
latest Witch Weekly, Harry, Hermione and Ron were still in the library reading. Ron looked as if he needed matchsticks
to keep his eyes open, Harry's hair was even more messy from his grabbing it in frustration and even Hermione looked
like she wanted to be far away from any sort of book.

“Can we go? Please?” Ron begged. Hermione shook her head.

“Just let me finish this one book,” she said. Ron and Harry both sighed and put their books down. She read for a few
more minutes and then threw the book down with a sigh of frustration. “Nothing!”

“Come on Hermione, let's get you away from all the nasty books,” said Harry, pulling her out of her chair. They got up
and went back to Gryffindor Tower, where they found a rowdy game of Exploding Snap being played between the First and
Second Years.

“You want to go upstairs?” Harry suggested, not liking the noise after the serenity of the library. They nodded
immediately and they went up to the Seventh Year boys' dormitory. Seamus and Dean were there but when Hermione (a girl)
walked in, they didn't bat an eyelid. She was 'one of the boys', after all.

“I can't believe we didn't find anything useful,” she said, slumping onto Harry's bed.

“Maybe we're looking wrong,” suggested Ron.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, hopping onto his bed beside Hermione.

“Maybe we're being too obvious. Maybe it's not what's in the book but something more subtle.”

“Like what?”

“No idea.” Ron sighed heavily.

“Something wrong, kiddies?” Seamus asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

“No. Well, I don't think so,” Harry said despondently. “Hang on a minute! Seamus! You're Irish!”

“Have been for a while now,” he said with a charming smile. “Your point?”

“What do you know about the Cattle Raid of Cooley?”

“Not a lot. Why? Is it for a class?” Seamus looked panicked, worried that he’d forgotten some important piece of
homework.

“No. Harry got given a book yesterday, and we want to know why,” Hermione told him.

“Oh. Well, I don't know.... Some queen went after a bull she wanted and only Cu Chulainn could fight her because of some
curse...”

“We know all that,” Hermione said irritably. “Why would Harry be given a book about something that happened two thousand
years ago?”

“I don't know. Although I remember my mam telling me how the descendants of Queen Maeve still walked the Earth.
Apparently at some point they took on the job of Guardians or something...”

“Yes?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“I don't know, I never listen to my mam,” Seamus said with a laugh. “But I remember her telling me that there was always
one person in the world chosen as her Heir...”

“Sounds familiar,” said Harry dryly, thinking of Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin.

“But not in a bad way. They're like a protector or something.”

“Like the Vampire Slayer?” Hermione asked, thinking now of one of their most recent Defence Against the Dark Arts
lessons, which had been about vampires and the girl who fought them.

“I guess. I really don't know very much about it though,” Seamus said apologetically. Hermione looked like she wanted to
kiss him.

“I think you've been wonderful Seamus,” she exclaimed excitedly. “Come on, back to the library!”

“Not on your life,” said Ron.

“You've got to be kidding,” Harry added.

“Come on!” she whined. “I know what we need to look for now!”

“We can't be out of the tower now. We'll get into trouble, Little Miss Head Girl,” Harry reminded her.

“Oh fine!” she said, quite annoyed. “I'm sure it can just wait until tomorrow, it's not like you think it's important or
anything.” she said before storming out of the room.

Harry got up to follow her.

“Hermione!” he called as she walked down the stairs. She turned.

“Yes, Prefect Potter?” she asked, annoyed. He smiled brightly at her.

“We can go later if you like, I'll bring the cloak. I just didn't want to bring it up in front of Seamus and Dean.”

“All right. I didn't mean to get annoyed like that. But we've been reading all day and I finally think I know what we're
looking for.”

“Restricted section?”

“No, I don't think so.”

“Oh. Damn.”

Hermione giggled.

“Meet you in the common room at midnight?” she asked with an excited grin.

“Yeah. I'll tell Ron.”

“OK. Well, until then, good night.”

***

Hermione found it incredibly easy to get out of her dorm that night- the other girls were exhausted from a hard day's
work. She slipped down the stairs into the common room to find Harry sitting by the dying embers of the fire, silvery
invisibility cloak in his hand.

“Where's Ron?”

“Fast asleep. I didn't want to wake him up.”

“Of course. Well, we can do this on our own, I suppose.”

“OK,” he said, standing up. He threw the cloak over them and checked the Marauders Map.

“Filch is in the West Tower. We should be good for a while,” he whispered before they headed out of the tower towards
the library

“If we get into trouble, I'm blaming it on you, by the way,” Harry told her.

“I don't care.”

“Me and Ron really did a good job of corrupting you, didn't we?”

“Yes. So good that I don't even mind,” she whispered back. He could feel her breath on his cheek. They got to the
library quickly and ran inside. Once securely out of sight of anyone, they slipped off the cloak and Hermione headed
straight for books about myths and legends. She was only reading for a moment when she found what she was looking for.

“The Heir of Maeve. A mythological figure found one in every generation. Nurtured by the Guardians, the Heir is
traditionally a woman. There is no evidence to prove the existence of the Heir, but myths purport her to be a protector
of humanity, fighting evil when required,” read Hermione. “Could your mother have been the Heir of Maeve?”

“My mother?”

“Yes. Think about it, after two thousand years, the Heir could be one of thousands if people. How many descendants of
Queen Maeve must there be by now?”

“Maybe,” Harry still looked a little sceptical.

“It would explain why she had the book. It must have been given to her by these Guardian people. It's incredibly old,
after all.”

“But if she was the Heir and she died, doesn't that mean that I'm...? No, I cannot be the Heir of Maeve! I have enough
to deal with as it is.” Harry said vehemently.

“You're probably not. The book says it's usually women. Maybe another girl descendant of Maeve was called when your
mother died. Like the Slayer? Remember what Professor Figg said? One dies and another is chosen?”

“But what does this have to do with me?”

“Perhaps you need to find this Heir to help you or something. Perhaps you could ask Professor Dumbledore?”

“I could. He didn't seem surprised about the book when I told him about it.”

“Well then, there you go,” she said with a satisfied grin. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Course.” he went to throw the cloak over them, but stopped and looked at her. “Thank you for helping me.”

“What are friends for?”

“I think a midnight flit to the library is above and beyond the call of friendship,” he said.

“No, helping you through First year was above and beyond. I find that everything since seems to pale in comparison.”

“It was a bit much for eleven year olds to deal with, wasn't it?”

“I think so. I think you did admirably, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he blushed as he always did when complimented like that. “You did pretty well yourself. I always wondered what
Snape's reaction was when he heard that you'd solved his potion riddle thing.”

“I don't know, but I've got a very good idea.”

“A look that said 'I'm eating wasps while being forced to listen to the Greatest Hits of Leo Sayer'?”

“Something like that,” she said with a giggle. “Come on, we should get back.”

“All right,” he said, throwing the cloak over them both. They walked back to the tower at a considerably slower pace
than they had walked in the opposite direction.

“Night Harry,” she smiled at him briefly before going up to the girls' dormitory. Sighing a little, he went to his own
dorm.

***

Harry planned to speak to Dumbledore before classes began, but when he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, the
Headmaster was already waiting to speak to him. He looked quite odd, sitting at the Gryffindor table amongst the
students.

“Professor Dumbledore?”

“Ah, Harry!” he said, his eyes sparkling. “Miss Granger tells me you have a few questions for me regarding your book?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, why don't the two of you come with me and discuss it now?” he suggested. They nodded eagerly and followed him out
of the room. They followed him through the castle and into his office (Password: Sherbet Dip). They sat down and Fawkes
immediately flew from his perch to greet Harry.

“Hey, Fawkes!” he said, grinning. “How's life?” A few feathers fell from Fawkes' wings and he let out a solitary
mournful note.

“Burning Day soon?” Harry guessed. Fawkes seemed to nod before going back to his perch.

“So, Harry, Hermione?” the Professor began. “What have you found?”

“Well, we've found something about the Heir of Maeve,” Hermione began.

“And you're wondering if Lily was the Heir?” Dumbledore guessed. “I believe she was.”

“Is that why...” Harry paused. “Why Voldemort didn't want to kill her?”

“How do you know?” Dumbledore asked gently.

“When the Dementors were around, I heard it all. He didn't want to kill her at all. But she refused to let him take me,”
he choked out. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“I think it's certainly possible. From my limited knowledge of these matters, I imagine that the Guardians of the Heir
would be most displeased to learn of her death. A witch with such ancient power is a formidable ally.”

“That's why her protection was so powerful!” Hermione exclaimed, the pieces sliding together in her mind.

“It's entirely possible,” Dumbledore said. “I imagine she kept the book safe with Remus Lupin so that you would find all
this out eventually.”

“Yes,” Harry looked down at the floor. His mother had been something really special, but she died for him just the same.
He didn't quite know how to take that.

“What about the new Heir?” Hermione asked. “Do you know who she is?”

“Alas, no. The Guardians are an ancient people, quite different from wizards. They keep to themselves. Usually, we are
all left unaware as to who the Heir is. Her job is to keep the world safe with the minimum of fuss.”

“Do you suppose there’s a link?” asked Harry.

“A link, Harry?”

“Between the Heir and me. That protection she gave me, perhaps it wasn’t entirely magical in origin...” Harry paused,
trying to articulate what he meant. “That maybe this Heir is supposed to help fight Voldemort.”

“It’s possible,” Dumbledore said gently. “But we will only find out if she approaches us, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Harry sighed rather despairingly.

“Don’t despair Harry,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Everything, I find, happens for a reason. Now you really should
get along to class.”

“Potions!” Hermione exclaimed. “Professor Snape is going to kill us!”

“I doubt that, Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said, laughter in his voice. “Especially when you give him this note.”

“Thank you Professor,” she mumbled, a little embarrassed. Then Harry and Hermione left the Headmaster’s office.

Hermione began walking swiftly down the hall.

“Hermione! Why are you rushing?”

“Because we’ll be late!”

“We’ve got a note, silly. Let’s take a nice leisurely walk down to the dungeons,” he began dawdling along the hall. She
sighed, but slowed down just the same.

“You really are a terrible influence on me, Harry Potter.”

“I know.”

“I shall tell Witch Weekly that the wonderful Harry Potter is incredibly naughty, you know.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would,” she said. He laughed lightly.

“I wish you would. Maybe then they’d leave me alone. I still have nightmares about being trapped in a cupboard with Rita
Skeeter.”

“Well, I think her nightmares include me now,” Hermione said through gritted teeth.

“Did you ever set her free?”

“Worse. I gave her to Professor McGonagall.”

“What happened then?”

“I don’t know,” she paused and grinned wickedly. “Do cats like beetles?”

“There’s a underlying wickedness under that bookish exterior, isn’t there?”

“Absolutely,” she giggled. They had arrived at the Potions dungeon and went inside. Professor Snape stopped talking.

“How lovely of you to join us,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“We have a note from Professor Dumbledore, Professor,” Hermione said in an appropriately meek voice. Snape snatched it
from her hand and began examining it. When he had determined that it wasn’t in fact a fake, he continued the lesson.

“Where’ve you been?” Ron hissed quietly.

“Dumbledore wanted to ask us about the book.”

“Oh,” said Ron, clearly quite disappointed that he hadn’t been included in the discussion.

“Sorry,” whispered Harry. Ron went to speak, but at that moment, Snape turned his attention to them.

***

“We’re sorry, Ron!” Harry exclaimed at lunch. “You weren’t there!”

The argument they'd had to suspend during Potions had resumed at lunch.

“So?” Ron said, dimly aware that he was being quite unreasonable. “First you left me out last night and now this
morning!”

“We didn’t go out of our way to keep you out, Ron,” Hermione said. “If you recall, you were meant to come with us last
night, but you fell asleep. And I didn’t really feel that we could ask the Headmaster to wait for you this morning. It
was more important than that.”

“Oh, I do apologise,” Ron said sarcastically. “I didn’t realise that some stupid book was more important than
friendship.”

“Oh Ron! Don’t twist my words like that!” she exclaimed angrily. “I’m very sorry you weren’t there! I’m very sorry you
had to spend five more minutes in Potions than us! I’m sorry! Is there anything else you’d like me to apologise for? The
sacking of Rome perhaps? The break up of the Beatles? Eighteen years of Conservative rule?”

She jumped up from the table and stormed out angrily.

“Did you have to, Ron?” Harry asked, trying to keep the angry edge out of his voice.

“What did I do?”

“What did you do? You shouted at her!”

“I’ve shouted at her before.”

“Yes, and not once did it endear you to her. We didn’t mean for you to get left out. She was trying to apologise to you
and you just kept at her,” Harry felt himself getting quite angry and fought to keep his temper. Then he stood up.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked.

“I’m going to see if she’s all right,” replied Harry.

“Oh fine, leave me again.”

“I’m not leaving you, Ron! Bloody Hell!” Harry got completely exasperated. “I just want to make sure she’s all right.”

Ron seemed to calm down a little bit.

“I’m sorry. You should go,” he said, nodding his head. Harry managed a tight smile before heading out of the Great Hall.

***

“Harry?” Hermione asked, surprised to see him. She was sitting on a desk in an empty classroom near Transfiguration.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes of course I am.”

“You seemed pretty upset when you left.”

“I wasn’t upset, I was angry. I left so I didn’t say something I’d regret. I thought you’d be with Ron.”

“Nah, he needs to calm down on his own. I thought you were really upset.”

“Well I am. I don’t like fighting with my friends,” she said.

“I know.”

“Come on, we have Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall threatened to turn any latecomers into pincushions,” she
told him as she jumped off the table.

“We can’t do much if we’re pincushions, I suppose,” he remarked.

“Well, it’s like the good Professor says, everything happens for a reason,” she joked.

“Yeah. But are they good reasons or not?” he asked rather more seriously.

“That remains to be seen, I suppose,” she said as they went into Transfiguration and sat down, waiting for class to
begin.

Once Hermione and Ron had reconciled that evening, both apologising profusely to the other, their world was back on an
even keel. Harry almost managed to forget the whole Heir of Maeve thing, but just as it was slipping from his mind, the
girl turned up.

***

To be continued.....

Author’s Notes: This story was originally posted at Schnoogle and The Pumpkin Cafe Y!group. The title is Irish Gaelic
for ‘Diamond of Destiny’. Thanks to Dan/Gryffinseye for his excellent beta skills.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

2. Fire And Ice

Chapter Summary: After discovering his mother's role as the Heir of Maeve, Harry must deal with the arrival of her icy
successor. Who is she, what's her story and does she really think she can defeat Voldemort on her own?

Meanwhile, Ron's feeling left out and hurt while Hermione's being dragged further into it than she imagined possible.
Jealousy rears its ugly green head and Malfoy skulks around suspiciously. All in all, a typical Hogwarts day.

*

Chapter Two- Ice and Fire

From the moment Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall for dinner a week after receiving the book, they wondered
who the woman sitting with Dumbledore was. She didn't look much older than them, certainly no more than twenty years
old. Most of the people in the Hall were looking at the strange girl, and chattering amongst themselves about her.
Normally when there were guests at the castle, Professor Dumbledore would introduce them to everyone, but he had
remained unusually silent on this occasion.

“Who is she?” asked Hermione.

“No idea, Hermione,” said Harry. “I’m not omniscient.”

The woman was familiar looking- red hair, blue eyes, pale skin. She looked like...

“She looks like my mum,” Harry said suddenly. It was true, to an extent. Aside from their eyes, Lily and this mystery
woman had the same colouring, it was true and their noses were similar, but this person seemed infinitely colder than
the Lily Potter Harry had conjured in his mind from photos and stories.

“Do you think...” Hermione trailed off, aware that they were surrounded by other students.

“Could be. We'll just have to wait and see, I suppose.”

They finished their food, the three deliberately lingering longer than the other Gryffindors, who were eager to get back
to the tower. Just as Hermione finished her peas, Dumbledore and the woman came over.

“A word, please,” Dumbledore said. The three got up and followed him out. But they did not head to his office. Instead
he took them into the empty Charms classroom.

“Harry, this is Maura Kennealy,” the Professor began. “Miss Kennealy, this is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron
Weasley.”

“Hello,” the woman said gruffly. Now that she was closer, Harry and his friends realised that she was younger than she
had at first appeared. Eighteen, perhaps.

“Hello,” he answered, extending his hand. She did not take it for a long moment, before reluctantly shaking his hand.

“You're the Heir of Maeve,” Hermione guessed. The girl glared at Hermione for a moment before simply nodding her head.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked concerned.

“I'm here to avenge the death of the previous Heir.”

“What she means, Harry, is that she wants you to help her defeat Lord Voldemort,” Dumbledore said.

“I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say she wanted me to help her,” he said, a little confused. “I was under the
impression that Voldemort was my problem.”

“That's where you're wrong, little boy,” Maura snarled. “It's my job to avenge the Heir's death. Which means I do the
defeating.”

“I don't think so!” Harry said hotly, feeling anger surge through him. Who was this sneering girl to tell him what to do
and what not to do?

“Stop it!” Hermione said loudly, startling all of them, including Professor Dumbledore.

“Arguing will get us nowhere,” she said in a low, controlled voice. “Maura, are you going to be staying here?”

“It seems that way,” she said.

“Well then, there's nothing here that can't wait until morning when we've all had time to think about it and digest the
new information.”

“A good idea, Miss Granger. Miss Kennealy, might I show you to your guest room?”

“Fine,” she said, not as rudely as she had spoken to Harry. She followed Dumbledore out of the classroom and they
disappeared down the hall.

“Come on Harry, back to the tower with you,” Hermione said, her voice gentle now. He looked a little shell shocked, so
she tugged on his arm. Ron joined her.

“Are you all right, mate?” he asked. Harry nodded dumbly and allowed them to lead him out of the room and up to the
Gryffindor tower.

***

Harry couldn't sleep. He knew he wasn't likely to get to sleep any time soon and so gave up trying. He slipped silently
out of the dorm, careful not to wake any of his roommates. He headed down the stairs and into the deserted common room.
The fire had completely gone out by now and he shivered slightly as he sat down. Igniting it easily with his wand, he
watched as the flames flickered, casting strange shadows across the room.

He let out a long, sad sigh. It was his job to kill Voldemort! It was one of the only things he was sure about these
days. He knew that Voldemort was after him and he knew that he was after Voldemort. He didn't expect to do it all on his
own, of course, but it was his job, his destiny. Yet now this surly girl had turned up demanding to do it herself. Who
was she to tell him what to do?

“Nobody, that's who,” he said to himself.

“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know,” a soft voice called out to him. He turned around in
surprise. Standing at the foot of the stairs was Hermione, wrapped tightly in her purple dressing gown.

“What are you doing awake?”

“What are you doing awake?”

“Thinking about that stupid girl,” he admitted.

“Same here,” she said settling down next to him in front of the fire. “Let me guess... You think it's your job to
vanquish the evil Lord Voldemort?”

“Yeah.”

“And the idea that this other person, this girl intends to do it just irritates the Hell out of you.”

“Correct again.”

“Why?”

“Because... Lots of things.”

“Tell me.”

“Do you charge by the hour?”

“Depends on what you're implying.”

“Psycho-analysis, Granger. Although I think I can tell where your mind is right now.”

“Shut up, Potter and just tell me.”

“Fine. I think it's my job because he killed my parents. Because I couldn't finish him off the first time.”

“You were one, Harry.”

“But still... And because he's been after me for years. Because I'm the reason Cedric's dead and because Sirius is still
on the run and because.... Because it's the only thing I'm really certain of.”

“Oh. That's quite a list,” she said very gently. “But perhaps neither of you can do the job without the other.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has ancient powers we don't even know about. Surely they're similar to whatever your mother did to save you. And
you have an advantage over her.”

“Like what?”

“Like you've faced him before several times and survived to tell the tale. Like you're the one he wants to face. He
won't care about some random redhead coming after him. But he does care about you. And let's not forget, two heads are
better than one.”

“But why does it have to be her? She was... I mean, she was so rude!”

“I know. We'll find out what her problem is and deal with it,” Hermione reassured him. “Now get to bed, Potter.”

“I can't sleep,” he said. “I won't be able to for hours.”

“Well, I'll just stay here with you,”

“You don't have to.”

“I know. But I'm going to anyway,” she replied.

***

Harry and Hermione eventually headed off to bed at five, both thoroughly exhausted after spending their night talking
about everything and, it seemed, nothing. It took its toll however, when they were expected at breakfast two hours
later.

“You both look knackered,” Dean commented as the two stumbled into breakfast yawning loudly.

“Look shagged out, more like,” Seamus said with a wicked cackle.

“Aren't you bloody funny?” Harry replied in the particularly harsh tones of the sleep-deprived.

“And touchy about it too,” Neville added.

“Leave him alone,” Hermione said. “If you must know, we were up talking,”

This received laughs from most of the table.

“Right...” smirked Lavender. “We believe you.”

“We're not even going out together,” Harry said, pulling at a bread roll.

“I know, we're just having you on,” Lavender told them.

“It's so easy when they're this knackered,” Ron cut in for the first time.

“Does anyone know who that bird is?” Seamus asked, pointing at Maura Kennealy.

“Someone to see Dumbledore, I think,” said Harry. Seamus accepted this readily, failing to notice the uneasy looks that
passed between Ron, Harry and Hermione.

“What are you going to do?” asked Hermione in a whisper.

“What you said yesterday,” Harry replied. “I'll talk to her rationally and calmly.”

“There's my boy!” she said with a smirk.

“When are you supposed to be meeting her?” asked Ron. Harry shrugged.

“Don't know,”

“Well, I hope you don't miss any more classes. Honestly, you've missed more than you've turned up for recently,” said
Hermione. Harry fixed her with a questioning look.

“You didn't seem to mind taking the long way to Potions the other day.”

Hermione looked deeply chagrined at this, as if he had just revealed her deepest secret.

“Potions is different,” she said. Harry and Ron exchanged knowing looks.

“If you say so,” said Harry.

“I do say so. You're going to be late for Divination,” she said, getting up.

“Oh, Heavens forfend!” Harry said dramatically, clutching at his breast.

“I know! Imagine Harry being late to a prediction of his own death,” added Ron dryly.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Boys!” she sighed heavily before she picked up her books and went to leave. “I'll see you in History?”

“Oh, we'll be there,” said Harry.

“Won't want to, but will,” finished Ron, neither being able to summon up enough enthusiasm for sarcasm.

***

Harry was wondering when he would be summoned to Dumbledore's office to speak to the girl. He spent the entire duration
of Divination with his eye on the door, but to no avail. He dawdled into the History of Magic class, wishing and hoping
that he'd have an excuse to get out of Professor Binns' class.

“You look like you've just been told Quidditch has been cancelled,” Hermione remarked as he sat down and slumped in his
seat.

“I don't think I can face another hour on the Red Cap Uprising of 1919,” he groaned.

“I can always transfigure your book into a pillow,” she suggested.

“No,” he sighed, “I'll be fine.”

Professor Binns then floated into the room and began droning on about Red Caps and how the bloodshed in the Somme and
Ypres had been so great that the Red Caps grew stronger than ever and rampaged through France and Belgium. One by one,
the students began dozing off. Harry was about to join them when a loud knock on the door startled everyone, including
Binns. Were Binns not already dead, Harry suspected the shock might've killed him.

“Come in?” the Professor barked, unaccustomed to having his lessons disrupted. A small First year girl came in.

“Please, sir...” she began meekly, “I've got a message from the Headmaster.”

The Professor approached her and grabbed it. The girl fled and the Professor fixed Harry and Hermione with steely
glares.

“Potter, Granger! Headmaster's office, now!”

“What about Ron?” asked Harry. Binns shook his head.

“It doesn't say anything about Mr. Weasley.”

“Oh,” Harry said softly, throwing Ron an apologetic look. But being unable to do anything about it, he and Hermione left
the classroom.

***

“Come in!” Dumbledore called in a chirpy voice. The door opened and they went in. The girl was already there waiting.

“Sit down, sit down,” Dumbledore said in a friendly tone. Harry sat in the chair furthest from the girl and Hermione
settled down between the two.

“Now, we're all nice and rested and had time to think,” the Professor began. “Perhaps we can discuss the matters at hand
rather more calmly than yesterday.”

“There's nothing to discuss, Professor Dumbledore,” the girl Maura said firmly. “I have a task to fulfil and I will do
it.”

Harry couldn't help growling very softly in anger.

“You have no idea what you're facing,” he said, fighting to stay composed. Maura glared at him.

“Oh don't I?” she snarled. “The things I've faced over the last year would make your hair curl.”

“Really? Care to enlighten us?” Harry asked in a sarcastic tone that sounded strange to his own ears.

“No, I don't,” Maura said in a very low, dangerous voice. Clearly, she was fighting to stay calm as hard as he was.

“Well,” Dumbledore stood up. “I think this is a conversation best held somewhere else and I have many matters demanding
my attention. I'm sure you can find an empty classroom to talk in.”

“Snipe in, more like,” Hermione muttered. Dumbledore smiled very slightly and she blushed when she realised he'd heard
her.

They found an empty classroom at the bottom of the West Tower far from prying eyes or inquisitive ears . Harry had
remained silent on their journey, but now the three were alone, he exploded in anger.

“What is your problem?” he demanded.

“My problem?” the girl drawled. “Nothing whatsoever. I'm just here to do my job.”

“Job? Killing Voldemort is more than a job!”

“Really? What would you call it?”

“I...” Harry paused for a moment. “Destiny.”

“Job, destiny,” she said dismissively. “For me, they're the same thing. Why don't you get out of my way and let me
handle it, little boy?”

“Little boy?”

“Shut up!” Hermione once again found herself in the middle. But she continued Harry's question. “Little boy? You don't
exactly seem much older than us. How old are you, eighteen?”

“Something like that,” the girl admitted. “But would it interest you to know that I saved the world last year?”

“Not really,” said Harry, a triumphant gleam in his eye. “I did much the same thing when I was eleven. And when I was
twelve. And again when I was fourteen. And fifteen. And... You'll have to remind me, Hermione, last year as well?”

“I think so.”

Maura now had the decency to look slightly impressed.

“Really? What did you do?”

“Oh he's not done much. Just kept Voldemort from destroying the world,” Hermione now found herself boasting on his
behalf.

“That's great. One lousy wizard.”

“You're not a witch, are you?” Harry asked. She shook her head.

“No.”

“I guessed as much. Only a Muggle would think he was just one lousy wizard.”

“Oh dear boy, it's not because I'm a Muggle that I say such things,” she drawled, suddenly reminding them a little of
Malfoy.

“Oh?”

“Last year, a being rose. Like your Voldemort, most people don't speak his name. We're talking seriously old, powerful
evil. In fact, my people referred to him only as the Old Enemy. If we hadn't been able to stop him, he would've wiped
out half the world without most people even knowing what hit them.”

“We?” Hermione asked. Maura ignored her.

“It took the combined powers of two of the oldest clans in history to stop this thing and even so, it killed hundreds.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, 'oh'. So don't tell me I'm unqualified. I was born for this.”

“So was I,” Harry shot back, “I was the one who stopped Voldemort in the first place. I was a year old. He killed my
parents and because of him my godfather spent 13 years in prison,” Harry now gave up any pretence of being calm and
allowed anger to surge through his veins.

“He's been after me my whole life and I don't care if you've got some ancient power or destiny! This is my fight! I
never wanted it, but it was given to me and I don't intend to not fulfil my destiny! She may have been some cosmic Heir
to you, but she was my mum!” Harry was screaming now and trembling with anger.

Maura backed down.

“See, I didn't know that,” she said, before muttering something that sounded a lot like 'clucking guardians'.

“Well you do now,” Hermione said firmly. “Now, I'm missing classes here and I wouldn't mind if we were actually getting
somewhere, but we aren't. If you could both just dump some testosterone...”

Maura bristled at this implication, but said nothing.

“We might be able to get somewhere if we all just calm down. I don't think Professor Dumbledore will be pleased to
discover that you spent the entire morning arguing.”

“Well, technically speaking, I spent at least part of the morning being told I was going to die soon,” Harry said,
before Hermione silenced him with a glare.

“Now, Maura,” Hermione said in a professional sounding voice. “We know a little bit about Maeve and her Heir, but we're
really missing a lot of information. I think it would be helpful if you first told us about yourself and everything that
might be important here. And seeing as we're likely to be here a while, why don't we all sit down and get comfy?”

Hermione's tone brooked no argument. Harry sat on a desk, while both Maura and Hermione took chairs.

“What do you want to know?” Maura asked with a sigh.

“Everything,” Harry said.

“Well, all right. I didn't know I was the Heir of Maeve until last year. I was only two when Lily Evans...”

“Lily Potter,” Harry corrected.

“Lily Potter, died. The Guardians kept an eye on me over the years but I never knew I was anything special. The opposite
was true, you might say. Anyway, about a year ago, they found me and told me that I was some Heir of some ancient Irish
bird. I didn't believe them until I was in Safeway's and suddenly started having some weird vision.”

“Vision?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah. The bloody Guardians gave me a vision of the cattle raid. You do know about that, right?”

“More or less.”

“Right there in the bloody freezer section,” Maura cleared her throat and continued, “Well anyway, after that I was a
bit more receptive, but I drew the line at saving the world. They didn't even try to persuade me about it, but my friend
managed to get me to listen to them.”

Maura paused for a moment, deep in thought.

“We ended up on this long trek. First of all we had to find an enchanted shield which had been hidden away. Only a
genuine Heir could get to the shield, and we found remains of people who'd tried anyway.”

“And anyway, another uh... friend, George, he turned out to be the Heir of Ulster. He was also related to St. George.
You know, the dragon-slayer?”

Harry and Hermione nodded.

“Well anyway, we found his ancestor's sword in the cave where the Shield was. It turned out that another Heir of Ulster
had tried to get the shield and died trying. But it meant we didn't have to go looking for the sword. About the only
thing that went our way,” she said, her lip curling into a snarl.

“What then?”

“Then we fought,” she said in a way that told Harry and Hermione that she was leaving large parts of the story out. “The
Old Enemy rose and we had to fight. We wouldn't have managed to win but...”

“But what?”

“Nothing. Not important. That was last year. Since then I've been going round wondering what I'm meant to do. Then the
Guardians came and told me about the last Heir being killed.”

“Well, I think our side could certainly use someone like you,” Hermione said. Maura went to say something, but Hermione
continued on. “You've got it all wrong, Maura. Harry isn't the only one fighting Voldemort, just as Voldemort isn't on
his own. He has his minions and there are people fighting every day to stop them.”

Hermione paused for breath.

“You've just admitted that you didn't defeat this Old Enemy on your own, you had help. Well Harry has help and I think
you can be a part of the greater picture. But I don't want to hear either of you arguing over who gets to kill him. This
is more important than silly squabbling.”

Both had the decency to look contrite at this point.

“Are you going to stay for a while, Maura?” Hermione asked. “I think it would be really helpful if you did. And it's one
of the safest places in the wizard world.”

“Sure,” Maura said quite softly, as if her mind wasn't quite in this room but somewhere else.

“Good,” Harry said, surprising both girls. “Once Voldemort hears about her, he'll be after her too.”

“Why?” Maura asked.

“Do you really think he'll just let you hang around waiting to kill him? He'll send Death Eaters after you.”

“I've got the Guardians to protect me.”

“Who are these Guardians? Fifty highly trained, highly talented sorcerers?” scoffed Harry.

“Not so much,” Maura mumbled, thinking of the old Irish women down at Egan’s in Kilburn.

“Then you really should stay here for a while,” Hermione said quite kindly, wanting to like this girl, who seemed to be
trying to hard at being unpleasant.

“Fine,” she relented. “But if you think for a second that I'm going to let you take over, little boy, you're sadly
mistaken,”

“And if you think I'll back down, so are you,” Harry replied. They stared each other down for moment.

“Then we understand each other?” she asked.

“Perfectly,” Harry retorted. She smiled, ever so slightly, but it was a smile just the same. Harry then turned to
Hermione.

“Want to head back to class?” he asked. She nodded. They wandered down the corridor together, neither especially
hurrying.

“I think you should talk to her,” said Hermione. Harry looked horrified.

“What?”

“Get to know her better. She's hiding stuff.”

“Bad stuff? Evil stuff?” Harry asked eagerly. Hermione laughed.

“No, silly. But I get the feeling that she's... She seems sad to me.”

“Wouldn't you be better at that sort of thing?” he asked.

“Me? Do girl talk? When have I ever?”

“Well... never, but you do have a distinct advantage over me.”

“What's that?”

“You're a girl.”

“Oh yes. I forget sometimes,” she said with a wry grin.

“Yeah? I don't.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“Oh, nothing,” he said quickly. “We're here.”

***

It was after dinner that Harry and Hermione decided that the girl talk plan should be put into action. Hermione wasn't
entirely sure it would work. She'd never been one for girl talk and she didn't think Maura was either. But when she saw
Maura sitting alone outside by the fountain, amongst the rose bushes, she decided to take the bull by the horns. She
just hoped she didn't get fatally gored.

“Hello,” she said. Maura didn't flinch at the sudden sound.

“Hello,” she replied, not turning around.

“Can I sit down?” Hermione asked. A slight incline of the head was the only answer Maura gave.

“Are you all right?” Hermione asked, before immediately mentally kicking herself. What kind of a start was that?

“Triffic,” Maura said, her accent more pronounced than before. The tone of her voice, however, remained dull.

“Where are you from?” Hermione asked both out of curiosity and to get Maura talking.

“Kilburn by way of Hoxton,” Maura replied in the same disinterested tone.

“The East End of London?”

“Yeah.”

“What's it like there?”

“Old.”

“Oh. I live in Hertfordshire,” Hermione said, waiting for the derisive snort which was the usual response. It didn’t
come. “Very suburban. Very new, I suppose.”

“Yeah.”

“You sound to me like you need someone to talk to,” Hermione said very gently, waiting for the backlash. It did not
come.

“Do I?” Maura asked in the same emotionless tone.

“What happened last year?” Hermione asked. Maura made no reply. Hermione pressed on regardless. “You know, Harry and Ron
say that when I'm away from all my books, I make a good listener. If you need to talk, I'm here.”

Hermione got up and went to move away.

“I never wanted to be the Heir of anything,” Maura said very softly. Hermione sat back down.

“Neither did Harry.”

“I wasn't ever anything special, you know,” Maura said “Not ever. Until the Guardians turned up, and even then I turned
them away.”

“Why?”

“I didn't believe them. Then even when I believed them, I told them to sod off. I didn't want to save the world. I
thought the world needed putting out of its misery.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing. I just realised that although I thought the world was a bloody mess of tragedy and pain, some people are quite
fond of the place.”

“I quite like it,” Hermione said with a smile intended to cheer up the other girl.

“Yeah. It isn't always that bad. Or so I’ve been told.”

“What happened? Why are you so sad?” Hermione inwardly cursed herself for such clumsy conversation, but the other girl
only seemed surprised that Hermione had noticed.

“Me? Sad? You'd be the first to notice.”

“What about the Guardians?”

“One track minds. To them, I'm really just a tool, a weapon. And as for everyone else? Either they never gave a damn, or
they're dead or...”

“Dead?”

“Yes. I should probably start from the beginning, but it's not very interesting.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I had one friend growing up. Only one, and I didn't even deserve that. That rude, moody little bint you saw before? The
one who ordered Potter about like she's the Queen of the Universe? I've been like that all my life. Moody, mean and
cold. I don't know why, I think it's just a look that works for me.”

Maura shifted in her seat, quite uncomfortable with the direction she was taking the conversation.

“Who was this one friend?”

“Katerina. If I'm mean and moody and cold, or whatever it is they used to say about me, she's the total bloody opposite.
Too good to be true, that's Katerina.”

“What happened?”

“Well, she came along with me on my magnificent crusade to save the world. She did all the reading while I sat about
complaining about how I had to be the one chosen.”

“Sounds familiar,” Hermione said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Anyway, as we were going off to find that shield I told you about, we met this other destiny-ridden sort, a young man
by the name of George, he was descended from the dragon-slayer of the same name. Very good-looking in that dark,
smouldering way. Yet too nice to be dark.”

“I think I know the sort.”

“Anyway, he came along for the ride and Kat fell in love with Mr Charming and Handsome.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I barely noticed he was there. I'm too bloody narcissistic to notice anyone else,” she paused there to breathe very
deeply. “So we got the shield and the sword and everything, easy peasy. But the Old Enemy rose before we could do
anything about it. Then we found out about this prophecy.”

“Oh, they're always fun.”

Maura opened her mouth to speak again before a loud crash startled both of them.

“What? Who's there?” Maura demanded with a growl, getting into a fighting stance in the time it takes to blink.

“It's just me,” Harry said sheepishly, his hair messier than usual and his glasses slightly skew whiff. “I tripped over
a step. I was coming to see if you wanted some hot chocolate.”

“That would be brilliant!” Maura said, giving Hermione the distinct impression that the Heir was particularly pleased to
have a way out of the conversation. But this proposed girl talk had thrown up more questions than it had answered. What
prophecy? Katerina? George?

Maura seemed to be taking a keen interest in Harry now, even grinning and laughing at his jokes. Part of Hermione wanted
to believe that she was only doing it to get out of the conversation, which had taken a decidedly dark turn, but another
part of Hermione wanted to scratch Maura's pretty blue eyes out. But she wasn't sure why.

They snuck into the kitchens where Dobby and his colleagues attempted to foist all manner of goodies on them. Maura
looked distinctly impressed at Harry's treatment, and this only made Hermione's mood sour further. They grabbed mugs of
hot chocolate each, plus one for Ron, and then they headed up to the Gryffindor common room.

“Am I allowed in here?” Maura asked.

“Not really,” muttered Hermione. Fortunately, neither heard her.

“I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore won't mind,” Harry reassured Maura. He gave the Fat Lady the password and the three
headed into the common room.

“I brought them, Ron!” he called. Ron looked up from his chessboard and grinned broadly.

“Good evening ladies,” he said in what he hoped was a debonair voice. Maura merely smirked and they sat down and began
to talk.

***

When the common room had emptied, Maura stood up.

“I really should go to bed now,” she said. “I'm meeting with some Order thing tomorrow.”

“You are?” Harry looked intrigued.

“Yes. About plans or something. Know anything about it?”

“You might say,” Harry mumbled. He had been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix nearly a year ago.

“Well, good night,” she said before disappearing out of the portrait hole.

“I'm off to bed. Coming, Harry?” asked Ron, yawning widely as he had been doing for the past five minutes.

“I'm going to stay down here for a while,” Harry said.

“Well, see you up there. Night Hermione.”

“Night Ron,” she replied as he went up the stairs. She sat back in her chair and let out a very deep breath. She'd been
feeling tense since they got to the common room. Or was it before that?

“What's up?” he asked. She looked at him quizzically.

“Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“You can't fool me, you know,” he said. She looked at him in alarm. What could he possibly mean by that?

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that some thing has been bothering you all night. Now spill,” he commanded.

“I really don't know what you're talking about.”

“You've barely said a word since we came back here.”

“I didn't feel much like talking.”

“We were talking about school.”

“I know. I was quite content to sit and listen.”

“Hermione, why won't you tell me what the matter is?”

“Because nothing is wrong, there's nothing to tell.”

“OK. I know I’m not the cleverest wizard here, but I don’t believe you.”

“I'm not going to beg you to believe me.”

Harry sat for a moment watching her closely. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

“There's nothing wrong!” she exclaimed.

“You're jealous of Maura,” he guessed.

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“I'm not. Ever since she started being nice to me, you've been all quiet and moody.”

“I am not moody,” she growled. He stifled a laugh.

“OK. Just quiet then.”

“It wasn't that she was being nice to you. It just seemed quite an abrupt about-face, that's all.”

“Oh,” he said, quite patently not believing her. “You know you're still my best girl, right?”

“What?” she asked with alarm, her eyebrows almost shooting up to her hairline.

“You. Best friend. Forever and all that,” he smiled sweetly at her.

“Thank you. Actually, I was quite annoyed you turned up when you did. She was about to tell me about some prophecy
involving George, the person she mentioned before.”

“Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trip down the steps.”

“I wish I'd seen it. Sounds like quite the pratfall.”

“It was. Fortunately for me, I don't think anyone saw,” he grinned. “I don't think I'd live it down.”

“Well, quite. Once people find out that the famous Harry Potter is a total prat, what will become of you?”

“I'm not a total prat.”

“No not yet, but you show great promise,” she said with a wicked grin. He grinned back for a moment before turning
serious.

“Are you all right now?”

She nodded with a small smile. He stood up and yawned quite loudly.

“I'm going to bed. I didn't get much sleep last night, you know,”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I had a cute chick hanging on my every word all night.”

“Really? Well might I suggest you hurry up the stairs before said 'chick' decides to castrate you for cheekiness?”

“Point taken. Night Hermione,”

“Night Harry,” she said with a smile. Then he was gone.

***

The next morning, all was normal until Potions. Professor Snape was, rather unusually, running late, and so this gave
Draco the opportunity he'd been dying for.

“Who's the girl, Potty?”" he sneered, coming over to Harry's desk.

“What girl, Malfoy?” Harry replied in a bored, even tone.

“That mystery girl. She was hanging around you and Granger for most of yesterday. Who is she?”

“Nobody that concerns you, Draco,” Hermione said in a patronising tone.

“Are you sure?” he asked with a strange, knowing smile.

“Positive, Malfoy,” said Harry. Draco went to continue but the Professor came in and he scampered back to his seat.

“Odious little creep,” Hermione muttered, causing Harry to stifle a laugh. They listened patiently to Snape until it
came time to make their own potions.

“What do you suppose that was all about? What does Maura have to do with him?” Harry whispered to her.

“Hopefully absolutely nothing at all,” Hermione whispered back.

“Hopefully. He's probably just sniffing around in his usual Malfoy way.”

“Potter!” Snape called. “Five points from Gryffindor for talking in class!”

***

Unable to talk more during Potions or any other class, they were forced to wait until dinner time. Harry sat down and
began helping himself to food. Hermione, on the other hand, grabbed some slices of bread and pulled him out of his seat.

“What?”

“I think we should go for a walk, don't you?” she asked pointedly. Maura was sitting up at the top table talking to one
of the professors. More specifically, she was talking to Snape. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

“OK. Yeah,” he said, swallowing the one mouthful of mashed potatoes he'd managed to get through. He followed the
fast-paced Hermione out of the building and down to the lake, where she finally slowed down.

“What do you suppose that was about?” she demanded. “First Malfoy sniffing around this morning, now she's all friendly
with Snape?”

“Why don't we ask her?” Harry said reasonably. “I think she's warming up to us.”

“Oh sure,” Hermione said sarcastically. “I learned so much yesterday.”

“Maybe she'll tell us more at the meeting.”

“Do you know when it is?” asked Hermione. He shook his head.

“Nope. I don't usually get much more warning than an owl.”

“Well, at least it means Sirius will be here, right?”

Harry grinned excitedly.

“Hopefully.” Tacitly agreeing to turn back, they began walking

“What do you suppose that was with Snape?”

“Well, he's a member of the Order as well. Perhaps Dumbledore told him about her already. Or he's just trying to pick up
18 year old girls now.”

“Well, I think he'd have more success if he washed his hair and smiled occasionally,” said Hermione. They laughed for a
moment, before both stopping dead in their tracks.

Ron was waiting for them at the door. He did not look happy.

“Hello,” he said in a voice colder than the autumn night air. “Have a nice walk?”

“It was all right,” mumbled Harry.

“I'm so glad,” Ron's voice was dripping with bitter sarcasm.

“What's the matter, Ron?” Hermione asked, quite alarmed with her friend's behaviour.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Liar,” she challenged him.

“Fine! I'm lying! So what? It's not like either of you care!” Ron shouted.

“What do you mean?”

“I've barely seen either of you since you found that stupid book!”

“What? We spend most of the day with you.”

“Yeah, in lessons. But you're so bloody wrapped up in whatever's going on. And you don't seem to want to involve me in
any of it!”

“Ron, we've been over this,” Hermione said in a rational voice. “We don't mean to leave you out of it.”

“I'm sure,” he said in a particularly sarcastic voice. “But it still happens, doesn't it?”

At that very moment, an owl descended from the darkening sky, having come from the school owlery. It dropped a note in
Harry's hand before immediately flying back. He ripped it open and began to read.

“Now?” he muttered in a frustrated voice.

“Do you have to go?” Hermione asked.

“Yes. So do you.” Harry's eyes flickered to Ron's incensed face as he told Hermione.

“Me? Why?”

“Doesn't say,” he said.

“Ron...” she began.

“Don't. Just don't bother,” he growled before turning and walking away.

“That went well,” she said sadly as they began walking to the room the note specified.

“I feel bad for him, Hermione,” Harry said. “But at the same time, it's not our fault. Dumbledore didn't mention him in
that other note, or in this one, or that... I don't know!” he said, his voice full of frustration.

“Well, OK,” Hermione said, a plan forming in her mind. “We'll let him calm down, then we'll tell him everything we know
so far. We'll get him involved if it's the last thing we do! He's our friend and we should make sure he feels like it.”

***

To be continued....

Author’s Notes: Thanks as always to Dan/Gryffinseye for the beta.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

3. Destiny Rides Again

Chapter Summary: A meeting of the Order of the Phoenix brings up some interesting news about Ron and Hermione, while a
spate of killings in Ireland has Voldemort stepping up his campaign.

Meanwhile, Harry is looking at someone close by in a somewhat different way. And she's looking back at him. And Jim
Morrison was a wizard? The things one learns.

*

Chapter Three- Destiny Rides Again

They arrived at the long-deserted classroom selected for the night's meeting. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix were
there, including Remus, Sirius and Snape. The latter two weren't bothering to disguise their disgust and dislike for
each other. Each member of the Order seemed to glare at Hermione for coming into a group she wasn't part of. Sirius,
however, grinned broadly as his godson came in.

“Hello Harry, how are you?” he asked, enveloping Harry in a warm hug.

“Fine Sirius. You?” Harry asked, scrutinising his godfather carefully. His long hair was clean and tidy, and he looked
like he'd been getting proper meals at least once a day. Harry was glad: he worried about Sirius as much as Sirius
worried about him.

“I'm well. Remus has been feeding me,” he said as Harry slid into his seat at the table.

“We're all here, aren't we?” asked Snape testily. “Can we get started?”

“We're waiting for our second guest,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Please, Hermione, sit down. No need to stand on
ceremony here.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, quite intimidated by the group. She sat down on one of two chairs set away from the
table. The door opened again and in walked Maura. If she looked intimidated, she didn't show it. Hermione admired her
ability to remain cool, although part of her wondered if it wasn't simply coldness.

“Here is our second guest,” Dumbledore said. “Please sit down, Miss Kennealy.”

She did so, sitting next to Hermione.

“This meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is called to session,” said Dumbledore formally. “We have two guests today,
Maura Kennealy and Hermione Granger.”

“Dumbledore,” the man Hermione recognised as the real Mad-Eye Moody barked, “What about the attacks in Diagon Alley? And
that incident in Ireland?”

Harry and Hermione shared a look of questioning horror. What incident in Ireland?

“What incident in Ireland?” Maura asked suddenly. Each member of the Order looked at her with disdain. Dumbledore,
however, smiled gently at her.

“There’s been a spate of killings in Ireland,” Sirius told her. Maura looked concerned at this news.

“What happened?”

“Young women have been killed seemingly randomly. The Muggle police think it's just a serial killer. But what they don't
realise is that each of the women has been branded with the Dark Mark.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“Voldemort's calling card,” Sirius clarified. Maura looked quite horrified now.

“Where are the killings happening?” she growled. For a moment nobody answered. “Where?” she demanded.

“Galway, Mayo, Sligo and Roscommon,” said Sirius.

“I need to get to a telephone,” she said.

“Why?”

“Isn't it obvious? Oh bloody Hell... You don't all know, do you?”

Most Order members looked perplexed. Dumbledore, Harry and Remus did not.

“It's you,” Remus said very quietly. “You're the Heir.”

“Yes.”

“Heir of what?” McGonagall asked quite testily. She had been wondering what this girl had been doing hanging around the
school, and she had hoped she'd get her answers tonight.

“I am the Heir of Maeve, Warrior Queen of Connaught, Commander of the Armies of the West,” Maura said grandly. “And
mother to the Heir of Ulster.”

Mother? Harry and Hermione's mouths both fell open. But the rest of the Order just looked completely perplexed. For
their benefit, Maura gave them a very short, somewhat terse account of Maeve and her heirs. What she did not do, was
explain anything about the Heir of Ulster.

“You're telling me that this slip of a girl wants to help defeat the Dark Lord?” Mad-Eye shouted derisively.

“No,” said Maura coolly. “I'm going to do it myself.”

Harry opened his mouth to interject, but Hermione shook her head at him. This wasn't the time. In any case, he would've
been drowned out by the laughter which rang through the room. Maura, to her credit, bit back any smart remarks going
through her head.

“You don't believe me? Fine. Your Lord Voldemort does, or he wouldn't be slaying girls in Connaught.”

This sobered the group.

“This is because of you?” Arabella Figg asked.

“I don't know for sure. I need to call some... people.” she said. This caused more consternation.

“What if he has found out? What if he comes here?” McGonagall asked.

“We will each keep our eyes open. Constant vigilance, as our friend Moody puts it,” said Professor Dumbledore with a nod
to Mad-Eye.

“Indeed, Professor. I can go to Ireland,” offered Moody.

“Yes. A good idea,” said Dumbledore with a nod.

“Now, might I ask what this young lady is doing here?” asked Mundungus Fletcher, the first time, in fact, that he had
spoken. And he was pointing at Hermione.

“We have reason to believe that she has more to do with the coming battles than we at first thought,” Dumbledore told
them. For her part, Hermione looked as stunned as everyone else.

“I do?” she asked.

“Yes. We've been investigating you, Hermione Granger,” said Maura. Hermione's expression went from surprised to
terrified.

“Yes. It seems that you're not as Muggle as you think,” now Snape spoke. Hermione's eyes darted around the room. Had it
been her they'd been talking about earlier?

“You're also one in a long line of Druids,” said Maura. “And I'm sure I could dig up some more destiny for you if you
like?”

“I think I'm fine,” said Hermione weakly? Her family not Muggle? Druids?”

“And your friend Ron,” Maura said. Both Harry and Hermione looked at her very curiously. “He's got Celtic shaman blood.
But with hair like that, I'm not surprised.”

“Ron?” asked Harry.

“Yes. There's more to Weasley than meets the eye, apparently,” drawled Snape.

“What do shamans do?” Harry asked.

“They're divinators mostly. The best, most highly trained can be shape shifters and can travel to alternate realities,”
said Maura. “And druids, as I'm sure you're wondering, were the High Priests of old. They could do all sorts of things.
They were the most learned of their community,”

“Well, that's definitely Hermione,” cut in Harry. She blushed under such scrutiny.

“What does that have to do with me? Or the war against Voldemort?”

“Everything. You see, if we have our druid/priestess, that's you, Ron, the shaman, Harry and me the warriors, it's a
circle. Or a diamond. Or anything you care to choose as some sort of mystical... thing. We need the four to defeat him.
Harry has magical power, I have whatever mystical ancient mojo I've got and a pretty good right hook. You were right,
Hermione,” she admitted. “I can't do it on my own. But Harry can't either.”

“What about everyone else?” Mad-Eye suddenly barked.

“When has a war been won without an army?” Dumbledore said calmly. “We need everyone.”

“I've spent all day in the library learning everything I could about your magic in terms of this war. Professor Snape
and I have been doing all sorts of tests and spells to track down the information we needed about Hermione and Ron. I
went into my last battle unprepared, I don't intend to do so again,” said Maura gravely.

“Right, well, what's the plan?” Sirius asked. Dumbledore stood up.

“It has already been made quite clear that the Ministry don't even believe that Voldemort is back, much less preparing
for his offensive. We must make efforts to discover what plans he does have. We have spies in place, and we must wait
for their information. Harry and his friends will step up their training in preparation for what is coming.”

He paused and turned to Maura.

“Sirius will take you into Hogsmeade. I believe that the Three Broomsticks has a Muggle telephone. You can find out
about these killings. Perhaps it would be useful for your guardians to pay a visit to Hogwarts, as well.”

“All right,” said Maura, getting up. Sirius got up and followed her out.

“Harry, Hermione, I think it's time you went back to the common room,” the Professor said.

“This is the part where you get us to leave so you can talk about us, right?” Harry said. Dumbledore laughed, while
several other Order members looked a little annoyed that he'd worked it out.

“Yes, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “I will speak to you tomorrow, with Hermione and Ron as well.”

“All right,” Harry said. They bade farewell to the adults and then headed back to the Tower.

“We could've stayed outside and listened,” said Hermione in a mischievous tone.

“No we couldn't. Mad-Eye can see through stuff, remember? Happened to me in fourth year.”

“Oh. Never mind. We should tell Ron everything now!” she said, picking up the pace.

They went into the common room and found Ron sitting with Neville. They were both doing their homework- Ron helping
Neville with his Divination, Neville helping Ron with his Herbology.

“Ron!” Hermione called. He looked up to see them come in. “We really need to talk to you!”

“I think I'm done, Neville,” he said in a cold voice. Neville didn't question him.

“We can, uh, finish off upstairs if you like,” he said, shooting Harry and Hermione an apologetic ‘don‘t look at me’
face. Ron nodded.

“Thanks Neville, you're a real pal.” Ron scooped up his things and stomped off up the stairs.

“Oh bloody Hell!” exclaimed Hermione angrily. Several people looked up, surprised to hear Hermione swear. She slumped
down into her usual armchair by the fire.

“We'll set it all straight tomorrow when we see Dumbledore,” Harry said comfortingly, settling down in the chair
opposite hers. He kicked off his shoes and put his feet up- on her.

“Do you mind?” she asked. He grinned.

“Not in the slightest. You're very comfortable.”

“Fine,” she said, her mind too full of other things to complain.

“So, you're a druid, then?” Harry said in a conversational tone.

“No. Druids go through about twenty years of learning their craft. Probably more.”

“Sounds ideal for you.”

“Hardly. I remember reading about druids ages ago. I thought it sounded quite interesting, but... Twenty years is a bit
much for me. Besides, I'm not a druid. I just share a few genes with some.”

“But still... And Ron's a shaman. That's cool, huh?”

“I guess. I read that the Native American shamans would take peyote and go into trances and stuff. And a rock star
called Jim Morrison thought he was one.”

“He probably was,” Harry mused. “You know he went to school here?”

Hermione sat up straight, eyebrows raised as high as they would go.

“What?”

“Oh yeah. Sirius told me about it once. In the fifties this was, before his time of course. Jim Morrison came to
Hogwarts when he was eleven because he didn't want to go to Salem. He was in Ravenclaw apparently.”

“I'm still getting over the fact that Jim Morrison was a wizard,” she said. “Wait till I tell my dad. He's a big fan of
the Doors, you know.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised who in the Muggle world are actually wizards. John Lennon was one...”

“Paul McCartney?”

“No. But Jimi Hendrix was one too. There was a big vogue in the sixties for wizards to work in the Muggle entertainment
world. Sirius told me all about it.”

“Oooh!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Was Frank Sinatra a wizard?”

“No,” he laughed. “Not that I know of. Not every single famous person was a wizard, you know. Just some of them.”

“I suppose magic doesn't really make up for talent, then?”

“No. Otherwise Gilderoy Lockhart would be Marlon Brando.”

“Yes. And the world as we know it would cease to exist,” she said with a smile.

“Are you going to be all right?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern. “I know it must be weird to find out you've
got this big druid thing going on.”

“Oh, it's not that,” she said. “I was thinking about Maura. She said she's the mother of the Heir of Ulster. What? She's
only eighteen, isn't she?”

“So? Lots of girls have children very young. Britain has one of the highest teen pregnancy rates in Europe, you know,”
Harry said knowledgeably.

“I did know that, actually. Where did you learn that?”

“The ‘Six O’clock News’ over the summer. Uncle Vernon went into a rant about them being tarts and all that sort of
thing. Managed to get onto foreigners and Catholics before long.”

“I think your Uncle sounds terribly unpleasant. And he’d annoy Maura on two counts.”

“He doesn't just sound it. He is it. And what do you mean, two counts?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure, but guessing from the big gold cross I saw hanging around Maura’s neck, I’m guessing she’s
Catholic,” Hermione said. “And as for the Dursleys, I wish you didn't have to stay with them,” she said softly. He
smiled quite sadly.

“Me too.”

“Maybe you won't have to this summer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, both sides seem to be mobilising for the big battle. Maybe by the summer, Sirius will be a free man. And we’ll
have left school behind as well.”

“Here's hoping,” he said quietly. Then he took his feet off her lap and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my cloak. I feel like going for a walk,” he said before going up the stairs. She sighed. He seemed quite sad
today. Perhaps it was the idea of finally going up against Voldemort, and knowing that he needed to take her and Ron
with him.

When he came down again, she was standing by the portrait hole.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Coming with you,” she said with a bright smile.

“Now...”

“Now nothing, I'm not letting you wander around the castle on your own even if you will be invisible,” she said firmly.

“Fine,” he sighed and threw the invisibility cloak over them both.

***

They walked into the crisp night air and walked as they had at dinner time, down to the lake. But they walked around the
edge and settled under a tree, where they were not immediately visible to anyone in the castle. Only then did Harry
remove the cloak.

“It's getting cold, isn't it?”

“Yes,” she said, shivering. Without really thinking, he slid his arm around her shoulders.

“We were always going to come with you, Harry,” she said quite suddenly.

“I know. But I didn't want you to have to. I wanted you to have a choice. This is still my fight, you know.”

“Well it shouldn't have to be. You don't have to do everything on your own, you know.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to be, you know, when you leave school?” she asked.

“That's a random question if ever I heard one.”

“I know. But I want to know.”

“I don't know. I don't think about the future.”

“Why not?”

“I'm not sure I've got one.”

“Don't you dare talk like that Harry Potter!” she exclaimed quite loudly, the sound ringing across the water.

“Like what?”

“You have a future! You're going to beat Voldemort and you're going to live a long, happy life.”

“You know this how?”

“Because you're Harry Potter. That's what you do. You're a hero, Harry. You will beat him. You will.”

“How do you know?” he asked stubbornly. She thought about this for a moment.

“I don't know it for sure,” she admitted. “But I believe it.”

“You're getting philosophical in your old age, Hermione,” he said with a smile, hugging her a little closer.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Perhaps it's a side-effect of the priestess thing.”

“I don't want you to give up hope. You will beat him. I know you will. You're a great wizard.”

“You've told me that before. Say it too many times and I'll get a big head.”

“You already have a big head.”

“I know, but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah.”

An uneasy silence now filled the air as they pondered their thoughts, which weren't as dissimilar as you might imagine.

“Is that Sirius and Maura?” he asked suddenly. She looked up. Sure enough, Sirius and Maura were walking through the
Hogwarts grounds towards the Castle.

“I wonder how it went?” Hermione mused aloud.

“Don't know,” he replied immediately.

“I suspected that,” she told him. “As you've been with me the whole time. I was just musing.”

“Musing, really?”

“Yes.”

“What's that like? I don't think I've ever mused before.”

“You're just being stupid now.”

“I know. Don't you find it endearing?”

“It's irresistible,” she said dryly. He hugged her closely again, and she felt her heartbeat quicken. It always seemed
to do that around him recently, she realised.

“Do you think Ron will be all right?” he asked out of the blue.

“I think so. He gets insecure sometimes, that's all,” she said. “Once he realises that we didn't mean to abandon him or
ignore him, he'll be all right. I hope.”

“Yeah. I hope so too.” Harry stood up. “It's really getting cold out here. We should go back inside.”

“We've only been here a few minutes,” she pointed out.

“I know. But I don't want you to get a cold or something,” he said, throwing the cloak back over them. Hermione wasn't
sure if she just imagined it, but he seemed to hold her a lot closer than usual on the walk back.

***

“What did you find?” Harry asked. He and Hermione had been quite surprised to find Maura and Sirius waiting for them
outside the portrait hole. After giving the Fat Lady the password they went inside to find a thankfully deserted common
room.

“Oh it's him all right. The Guardians said that each of the girls had the potential to be the heir,” Maura told them,
looking quite ashen faced.

“Are they coming here?” asked Hermione, settling down on the seat beside Harry.

“Who knows?” Maura said. “They never tell me what they're going to do.”

“Well, you should be safe here,” Sirius said. “It's the one place Voldemort has never tried to take.”

“Really? What is there here for him to fear?” Maura looked quite impressed.

“Dumbledore,” Harry said. “Don't let his soft appearance fool you. If there was anyone I'd hate to have as my enemy,
it's him.”

“Not Voldemort?” asked Hermione with a grin.

“Him? I've beaten him before,” he said casually. “He's old news.”

“I told you that you were getting a big head,” she said with a grin. Sirius shot Maura an amused smirk.

“Well, I'm sure you're both tired,” Sirius said. “So I think we'll be off. Don't you, Maura?”

“Of course. Good night!”

“Good night,” Harry said, a little perplexed at their sudden departure. They practically bolted out of the room.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Uh, Harry?” she asked. He looked at her in question. She pointed down and he realised that his hand had come to rest on
her knee. He jerked it away as if it was on fire. That, he realised, was exactly how it felt.

“We just came back in the invisibility cloak... We just sat down and... Oh dear God! Sirius must think we're going out!”
she exclaimed.

“Which means Maura probably thinks it too,” he reasoned.

“They left us alone so we could snog!”

“Yeah. Damn them,” he said dryly.

“What?” she turned, having not heard him.

“Nothing.”

“Oh.”

They sat in slightly awkward silence for the second time that evening.

“What are you thinking?” Hermione asked him.

How do I answer that one? he wondered with a sigh.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Your mind is a total blank?”

“Not a total blank. But it's very late and I'm sure it's very nearly blank,” he lied. He was thinking about the girl
next to him. He had, in fact, been thinking about the girl next to him for some weeks.

“Oh.”

“What are you thinking?”

“Not a lot,” she lied. She was thinking about the boy next to her. She had, in fact, been thinking about the boy next to
her for some weeks.

“Harry?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Are you scared?”

“Of what?”

“Well... It looks like you'll finally be fighting Voldemort. Doesn't that scare you?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“But I try to ignore it,” he told her. “Everyone is scared of something, after all.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. If you don't have some kind of fear, then you don't fear death. And if you don't fear death...”

“You forget to live,” she finished.

“What do you fear?” he asked.

“I don't know. Lots of things, I suppose.”

“Like what? Spiders?”

“No. I quite like spiders.”

“That's right, you never met Aragog,” he said with a wry laugh.

“There's a lot of things I wouldn't go out of my way to meet, like highly poisonous snakes and things, but I wouldn't
say I feared them. I suppose I fear being alone.”

“Alone? I know what you mean.”

“I thought you might,” she said gently.

“Well you're not alone any more, are you?” he said. “You've got me.”

“Yeah.”

He cleared his throat loudly, nervously.

“And Ron too... Once he's forgiven us for being lousy friends.”

“And Ron too,” she echoed very softly. “I think I'm going to bed now.”

“All right. Good night.”

She smiled sweetly at him.

“Good night, Harry.”

Then she went upstairs. As soon as she was gone, Harry let out a sigh. He'd nearly given himself away about fifteen
times so far today. She couldn't know he loved her, not now. He wouldn't let her know, not now that war was most
definitely coming.

Sighing heavily again, he headed up to the boys' dorm, hoping that sleep might be his tonight.

***

Both Harry and Hermione were quieter than usual the next morning. Their fellow Gryffindors tactfully left them alone.
Ron glared across the table a couple of times, but his anger had dissipated to the extent that his eyes were no longer
filled with fire.

“When will Dumbledore call for us?” Hermione asked Harry as they left to go to class- Divination for Harry, Arithmancy
for Hermione.

“Don't know. Perhaps he'll wait till after Divination what with Ron being some great divinator or something.”

“Yeah. Well try not to fall asleep for too long,” she said with a grin. “I'll see you in Potions,”

“OK.” Harry watched as Hermione walked off down the corridor towards her class. Once she was out of sight, he sighed
slightly and headed off to Divination.

Ron was already there, sitting in his usual place. When Harry sat beside him, he visibly flinched but said nothing.
Professor Trelawney came sweeping grandly into the room and the class began.

“Good morning class!” she said in a particularly breathy voice. “We were to continue with the crystal ball, but my Inner
Eye has led me to change the lesson plan. Today we will start a new topic. Trances,” she said grandly. Parvati and
Lavender looked particularly excited at this.

Trelawney looked around the class. She handed Harry, Lavender and Seamus incense sticks and matches.

“If you would please place these in the holders and light them.”

They put the thin sticks into the little clay joss stick holders and each lit them. Neville backed away nervously from
the one Seamus was holding, hoping not to knock it over.

“Now, lean back, close your eyes and let the incense clear your mind,” she said in an overly dramatic voice. Harry did
so, but only felt a headache developing from the strong, particularly sickly smell of the burning incense.

Next to him, however, Ron seemed to be doing quite well. Either that, or he had fallen asleep. But what Harry had
learned yesterday stuck in his head. Was this how shamans went into trances? Would it unlock some mystical ancient magic
within Ron? Was that why Trelawney had switched to trances today? A million questions surged through Harry's mind and he
realised that the incense wasn't clearing his mind- it was making it more confused.

He wasn't cut out for Divination. He was cut out for duelling with the Big Bad. He wished he could just walk out, as
Hermione had done. But he knew he wouldn't. Instead he'd sit here, headache rapidly developing...

He was jolted out of his thoughts by Ron falling off his chair. Perhaps falling was too strong a word, he thought.
Rather, Ron slid out of the chair as if lifeless.

“Ron?” Harry said with worry. Trelawney too, seemed alarmed. She crossed the room and went over to check Ron. The rest
of the students, most of whom hadn't come close to entering a trance, now watched.

“Ron?” Harry asked again. Trelawney sat Ron up. His eyes were open but glassy.

“Is he all right, Professor?” Parvati asked. Trelawney looked clueless, lending credence to any accusations of fraud.

Suddenly, Ron blinked twice and then moved.

“Why are you all looking at me?” he asked.

“You went into a complete trance, Mr Weasley,” Trelawney told him. He looked quite chuffed.

“I know that,” he said, before seeming surprised that he knew that. Then he caught Harry's eye. Harry had known Ron for
a long time now, and knew from the look in his eye that the trance had something to do with him. As Trelawney droned on
about trances and the new-found wonder that was Ron, Harry became focused on his friend.

“Are you all right?” he whispered. Ron nodded. “Did you see something?”

“Yes, I did,” he said. His tone had thawed slightly, but was still cold. It also told Harry that Ron wasn't going to
tell him, so he turned his attention back to Trelawney.

***

As Hermione had guessed, the note came during Potions. Snape did not looked pleased, but he knew what it was about and
so did not complain too much. Ron, however, looked quite bemused as to why he was coming with them. But on the walk to
Dumbledore's office, he said nothing.

“Will Maura be there, do you think?” Harry asked Hermione.

“No idea. Probably.”

“Maybe those Guardians of hers have decided to put in an appearance.”

“Weirder things have happened.”

They approached the Headmaster's office, but before any of them could take a stab at the password, the door opened.

“Come in!” Dumbledore called brightly.

The office was already occupied by Maura and two women. Harry, Hermione and Ron took seats. As he always seemed to do,
Fawkes flew over and perched on Harry's knee. Since Harry was last here, Burning Day had come and gone, and now Fawkes
was covered in beautiful red and gold feathers.

“Good morning,” Dumbledore said to them when they'd settled down.

“Morning Professor,” Ron said brightly, no real idea of why he was there.

“Maura, you may make your introductions,” said Dumbledore.

“Harry, Hermione, Ron, these are the Guardians, Clara and Patricia.”

“Hello,” Patricia, the older of the two said politely. Clara remained silent. Maura then turned to her Guardians.

“This is Harry Potter, the one I told you about. Hermione is the druid. Ron is the shaman.”

“What? Shaman?” Ron spluttered, completely taken by surprise.

“Your friends didn't tell you last night?” asked Dumbledore, himself a little surprised.

“Uh, no Professor,” Ron said, looking down at the floor. “I didn't really give them the chance.”

“Well to cut a long story really, really short, Ron,” began Maura in her usual, slightly cutting tone, “You're the
descendant of ancient Celtic shamans. You likely have a great gift for divination and we need you to fight Voldemort.”

“Oh,” said a rather shell-shocked Ron. “I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't that.”

“Well, now that's out of the way, can we get on with it?” Maura said impatiently.

“Yes. Well, we've set up a timetable for your training,” Dumbledore said. “You'll attend all your classes as usual, but
in the evenings, you will receive further instruction from members of the Order.”

“Further instruction?” Hermione asked, looking slightly excited about it.

“Yes,” Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes. “Professor McGonagall will be teaching you some very advanced
transfiguration. Including,” he paused dramatically “animagus training.”

“Really?” All three asked with broad grins.

“Yes. Such things have been known to come in useful. It's a challenging process, however. Professor Figg, Sirius and
Remus will be teaching you some advanced defence, Professor Flitwick will tutor you in advanced offensive charms, hexes
and jinxes. Professor Snape will be teaching you to make some very advanced potions and Madam Pomfrey will be teaching
you some elementary medical magic. I think that's everything... Professor Figg and Sirius will be teaching you some
physical defence fighting skills as well.”

“Sounds comprehensive,” said Hermione.

“And hard,” Harry added, having gone slightly pale.

“I'm sure you'll all do admirably,” Dumbledore.

“What about Maura?” asked Harry.

“Well, she will attend some of your extra classes with you. I’m afraid she won’t be able to partake in the magical
elements of the training, but there will be things she’ll be learning with you.”

“All right,” said Harry. “Sounds good. When does this all start?”

“Tonight.”

“What about Quidditch?” he asked. Dumbledore laughed.

“I'm sure you'll be able to keep up with Quidditch too.”

Harry looked hugely relieved at this. “Good. That's good.”

“Yeah, we really need to beat Slytherin,” added Ron.

“Indeed, Mr Weasley. And I should inform you both that the Order has agreed to swear you in as members,”

“What?”

“Us?” Ron and Hermione spoke at the same time.

“Yes. It was unanimous, in fact. Over the last few years you have proven yourselves worthy of a place at the table.”

Hermione and Harry shared a curious look- Snape had voted for Ron and Hermione to become members of the Order of the
Phoenix?

“There will be another meeting in two weeks time to discuss the situation at hand. You will be sworn in then. And now, I
think perhaps it's time to explain everything to Ron.”

***

To be continued...

Author’s Notes: I don’t know exactly when I’ll get the time to post the next few chapters here, so if you’d like to read
the rest, it’s easily available at The Pumpkin Cafe: groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Pumpkin_Cafe.

Thanks as always to Dan/Gryffinseye, Super!Beta

The chapter title, by the way is a reference to the fabulous film Destry Rides Again, starring James Stewart and Marlene
Dietrich.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

4. The Past Is Revealed & Secrets Are Shared

Chapter Summary: In which we learn a little bit more about Maura, training for the upcoming battle begins and Harry
reveals a few well-kept secrets and dreams. There's extra Potions with Snape, and Draco Malfoy sees something he
shouldn't.

*

Chapter Four- The Past is Revealed & Futures Are Shared

“Well, are you talking to us now, Ron?” Hermione asked gently. Still looking a little shell-shocked, Ron nodded.

“Good,” Hermione beamed. “Let's go to the common room. Everyone's in class, we should be undisturbed there.”

Maura came out of the office.

“Dumbledore wants to talk to the Guardians on his own,” she said, looking quite annoyed about it. “They said I should
come with you.”

“You want me to get some pumpkin juice from Dobby?” Harry asked. They each nodded eagerly. Harry grinned and disappeared
towards the kitchens as the other three went to the tower.

Only five minutes later, they were settled down in the common room sipping pumpkin juice and eating the chocolate
biscuits Dobby hadn't let Harry leave without. They then explained Ron's shamanic roots to him, and he seemed pleased
and not a little bit relieved to be playing a real part in the war against Voldemort.

“It all seems very strange,” he said. “After all, wouldn't Ginny and my brothers have the same thing?”

“Possibly. The question is, do they have the same relationship to Harry and Hermione?” Maura asked. “All the Guardians
seem to do is drill into my head the importance of connections and stuff like that. I didn't really realise until now.
It's not enough for the four corners to fulfil the requirements, they need to connect to each other,”

“Otherwise, it's just four unrelated points instead of a diamond,” said Hermione, understanding. Maura nodded.

“Which is part of the reason I'm down here with you. They, and Professor Dumbledore think we need to bond," she
grimaced. "No offence to you lot, but I've really never been one for bonding.”

“Well, we never finished our conversation, thanks to the boy with two left feet, over there,” said Hermione, nodding
over to Harry with a grin. Harry, with maturity beyond his years, stuck out his tongue at her.

“What do you want to know?” Maura's face became filled with the suspicion usually to be found there.

“Well... Tell us more about Katerina,” Hermione suggested. “Where did you meet?”

“In hospital, the day I was born. She was born three days before me. My mum and hers were in adjacent beds. You know
what those East End women are like, never stop bloody talking.”

“Did you grow up together, then?” asked Ron.

“Yes. She was my only friend. The only one who would put up with me, including my brothers and sisters.”

“You have brothers and sisters? What are their names? How old are they? What are they like?”

“Slow down Hermione,” Harry advised. “Before one of your lungs collapses.”

“OK... Uh... Well there’s David, he's twenty six. Then Marianne, she's twenty four. Next is Angela and she's twenty
three. And I have a younger brother called Gene. He's sixteen. And I really couldn't tell you what any of them are like.
I never got to know them,” she paused. “I was a most unpleasant child. And according to reliable sources, I'm a most
unpleasant adult.”

“You can't be all bad,” said Hermione reassuringly. “Otherwise, Katerina would never have put up with you.”

“That's what she said at the time...”

“What happened to her?” asked Harry. Maura ignored him. Hermione picked up on this and changed the direction of the
conversation.

“And George liked you, didn't he?” she asked. Maura looked down at the floor, having gone rather pale.

“You could say that.”

“What was he like?” Hermione asked, determined to get this girl to say something, anything.

“Well, it turned out that, aside from being the descendant of St George, George was also the Heir of Conochobar with
liberal helpings of Cu Chulainn and several other famous Ulstermen. He had more old magic and history in him than I
did.”

Maura now sounded equal parts sarcastic, proud and sad.

“You loved him,” Hermione said, not as a question but as a statement of fact.

“Bloody Hell,” Maura muttered. “I used to be much better at hiding stuff than this.”

“Oh, you're very good at it. But I'm very perceptive.”

“Yes, I did,” she admitted. “But I didn't know. Then we found out about the prophecy. The blood between the Ulster and
Connaught clans has been troubled for centuries, millennia really. Since Maeve left Conor. Since before that too,
probably. In order to fight the Old Enemy with any degree of success, we had to repair the relationship between the
clans.”

“What exactly did the prophecy say?” Harry asked.

“It said that in order to defeat he who will rise, the clans must unite, heal all rifts and forget past grudges, and
when this had been done, the ancient armies of the clans would rise to give us a hand. A pretty simple prophecy really.
Or not so much a prophecy as a handy tip. Although it alluded to us in that we would be the ones who had to fight the
Old Enemy.”

“How did you do that, exactly?” asked Ron.

“Run-of-the-mill ritual. Some herbs and spices available at your local Tesco’s, some runes and chanting. And of course,
the blood that all prophecies require. It was easy, because we didn't know we were supposed to hate each other for the
past of our people. It took two thousand years for the clans to forget and the rift to be healed. Can you believe that?”

“Sounds a little intense,” said Hermione with a reassuring smile. “Did it work?”

“Oh it worked fabulously. Except that instead of just bringing Ulster and Connaught together and raising our armies to
fight against the Old Enemy, it also opened my eyes to the fact I was in love with bloody George,” she said with a sigh,
sounding incredibly annoyed with herself.

“Isn't that a good thing?” Hermione asked uneasily.

“Not when your sweet little best friend is in love with him too. Not when you're supposed to be concentrating solely on
winning a huge battle. Not when you can't have any distractions. Not when your heart's too stone cold and dead to
appreciate it.”

“Sounds like a lot of reasons,” said Harry, with a surreptitious glance at Hermione that both Ron and Maura noticed.

“That's what I thought. Except that he loved me back,” she said very softly. “And the berk told me. Right before the
battle began. How was I meant to concentrate then? All I could think about was him. The Guardians had told me that women
are cursed with the need to worry about the people they love. I didn't think I'd have a problem with it, because there
wasn't anyone. But no! Bloody charming, magnificent hero George bloody Richards has to bollocks it up,” Maura, perhaps
sensing that she was about to embark upon a tirade of shouting and swearing, stopped there.

“He sounds like a good guy,” said Harry.

“Oh, he was perfect,” she said. “Total hero. He made Hercules and Achilles look like wimpy little gits. Although it
turned out that his heel was me. Of all people, stone-cold bitch ice queen me.”

At this point Maura, who had been sitting ramrod straight, now collapsed in on herself.

“If I was worried about him, he was worried about me. We both tried to fight, of course, but... Maybe if there was some,
I don't know.... If we'd been together for a while, we'd have been all right. But you’ve really got no idea... It was
all new and strange and.... How can you concentrate on saving the world with all that going on in your head?”

“I don't think it would be easy,” Hermione said, with a surreptitious glance at Harry that both Ron and Maura noticed.

“Well anyway, we weren't doing too bad. But then it got to that point where we had to confront the bastard Old Enemy
himself... I'm swearing like a trooper tonight, aren't I? My mother would be so proud,” she said with a harsh laugh.

“He was weakened. See, the Old Enemy was a supernatural being and had invested a lot of his power in the army he raised.
Our side killed so many of them that his power was depleted. All it needed was a quick incantation by me and George and
he would've been sent back to Hell where he belongs. But then he shot at me.”

Maura visibly flinched at the memory. Eagle-eyed Harry noticed that her hands had started to shake.

“With what?” asked Harry, sharing worried glances with Hermione and Ron. In the time she'd been at Hogwarts, Maura
hadn't ever seemed this vulnerable. It hadn't even occurred to them that she was able to be.

“Oh, some curse of some sort. Whatever he managed to pull together with what power he had left.”

“What happened?” asked Ron.

“What do heroes do to save the damsel?” Maura asked in a harsh, dry voice.

“They sacrifice themselves,” said Harry in a very, very soft voice. Hermione looked at him for a very long moment.

“Exactly!” Maura said, jumping up from her chair. “That's what he did! Can you believe it? I'm meant to do it, and he
takes it! He just died on me! But you should've seen me after that happened. I must've looked a bloody frightening
sight, all that red hair flowing, face contorted into a battle cry. I must’ve looked and sounded like a psychotic
banshee in a really bad mood. Isn't it written somewhere in the Villains Handbook that you never ever kill your enemy's
boyfriend?” she demanded angrily. Then she sank sadly back into her seat.

“What happened to Katerina?” Harry asked softly. This time, Maura was prepared to answer him.

“Oh, she didn't die. We both kept her far away from the real fighting. She stayed and helped to look after the wounded.
I suppose we both thought she was too much of a girl to fight. Funny, when you consider that a girl is exactly what I
am,” she laughed, harshly and without humour.

“She'd been prepared to accept that George was in love with me. Hell, she noticed before I did. She was even prepared to
accept that I loved him back. What she wasn't prepared to accept was that he died saving me.”

She paused for a very long time.

“Nor was she able to accept that, while he had died, I lived. And was pregnant with his child. It turned out to be a
right bloody soap opera.”

“Pregnant?” asked Hermione very gently.

“Didn't I tell you?” she said with a very slight smirk. “That was all part of the ritual. Some old druid's idea of a
joke, I suppose. Strictly speaking, sex wasn't part of the ritual, marriage was: marriage between the heirs. I only
agreed at the time to get the ritual done. But of course, for the marriage to be binding in all ways, it had to be
consummated,” she laughed genuinely this time.

“It's funny, but shagging someone really puts a new perspective on how you look at him.”

“Didn't you have an idea of how you felt before?” Hermione asked gingerly.

“Yes. I don’t suppose I would’ve agreed to the whole thing otherwise. But us stone-cold ice bitches aren't fully
familiar with such emotions. We deal better with rage and violence. You might say I had an inkling that my heart skipped
beats because he was close, not because I had some as yet undiagnosed medical defect.”

“So, let me get this straight,” said Harry. “You have to marry George and have sex with him, then fight a huge battle
against an almost unstoppable evil, only to have him die just before the end of the battle. Then you find out you're
pregnant?”

“Yes,” she said, wondering where he was possibly going with this. He threw his hands up in defeat.

“You win! You've had to deal with much more than me. At least over the last couple of years.” An uneasy silence filled
the air as the Hogwarts Three waited for her reaction.

She laughed. Not a short, derisive laugh of the sort she seemed to have patented, but a full, throw-your-head-back,
gasp-for-air laugh that lasted for minutes.

“It's bloody ridiculous, ain't it? I'm nineteen years old and I've done all that. Man, I should write a book. Get it
made for TV.”

“So, was it a boy or a girl?” Hermione asked when Maura stopped laughing.

“Girl. I was expecting a boy, actually, being that they'd be the Heir of Ulster. Found that out before she was born. I
don’t think it’s usually hereditary though.”

“Is the Heir of Ulster usually a boy?” asked Hermione.

“Yes. But I don't think the Heir thing matters so much anymore. Only in times of dire emergency.”

“Like this?” asked Harry.

“Yes, that's true. But I don't think my six month old daughter will be much good in battle,” she said with a laugh.

“What's her name?” asked Ron.

“Deirdre. She's named after another figure of the Ulster Cycle. Although I hope she's luckier in love than the
original.”

“Where does she live?”

“With her paternal grandparents,” Maura said, sadness returning to her eyes. “Since she was born, I've been back doing
stuff for the Guardians. I don't see her often, although I hope I will after this is all over.”

She pulled a black leather wallet from her pocket. Opening it, she extracted a picture.

“That's her.”

The little girl in the picture had red hair like her mother's and big brown eyes they assumed she inherited from her
father. She was smiling sweetly at the camera.

“She's beautiful,” breathed Hermione in an awe-filled voice.

“Girls always get all soppy over babies,” said Ron sarcastically. Then he was handed the picture and his own expression
melted.

Maura looked happier and prouder than any of them had ever seen her. Then, as if she knew that they were thinking this,
she stood up.

“I think that’s enough of that bonding stuff for now,” she said quite gruffly. “I should probably get back to the
Guardians. And I think your Gryffindors will be here soon.”

With that, she left. The three students looked at each other, not quite sure how to digest all that information.

“Well... I don’t blame her for being bitter,” said Harry.

“Me neither,” added Ron.

“I think it’s terribly sad,” finished Hermione. “He shouldn’t have had to die like that.”

“I don’t know,” disagreed Harry. “Dying to save the person you love and to keep the world safe, I think that’s a pretty
good way to die. There are worse ways.”

As he said this, he was looking right at Hermione. She shifted slightly under his gaze. The silence in the room became
deafening between the two and the young shaman watching them with interest.

“Hey!” a voice shouted. “Why did you get out of Potions?”

Dean Thomas stood in the portrait hole, several more Gryffindors behind him, looking quite displeased. At the sombre
looks on their faces, he sighed. “Gawd, you haven’t got to save the world again? Will it be before the FA Cup Final?”

“It’s possible,” said Harry in a particularly dry voice. He stood up. “I’m really hungry. Who wants lunch?”

“I wouldn’t say no,” said Ron in a particularly cheerful voice. Harry grinned, glad that he was back on good terms with
Ron.

“Let’s go, then! Coming Hermione?” asked Ron.

“I want to get a book, I’ll meet you down there,” she said in a quiet voice.

“All right,” he replied. Then he and Harry went off in search of food.

***

Hermione finally emerged as lunch was beginning to wind down. She didn’t have any books with her.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked before she’d even had a chance to sit down.

“Fine. Why?”

“No reason,” he said, looking at her suspiciously.

“What?” she snapped. Several other students turned to look, but when they saw that it was just Harry and Hermione, they
turned back to their own conversations.

“Have you been crying?” he asked quietly, so that no one else could hear.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Leave me alone.”

“No. What’s the matter? Is it all that stuff that Maura told us?”

“In a manner of speaking,” she mumbled. “I’m not going to talk about it, so you might as well give up now.”

“Fine. For now,” he conceded. She sighed and began digging into a bowl of hot tomato soup.

***

That night after dinner, they dutifully went to the large classroom down the Charms corridor where they could practice
in peace. Maura was there already with the Guardians. Professor Figg was also there with Sirius.

“All right kids,” Sirius began. All four bristled noticeably at the ‘kids’ label. “Fine, fine. All right, young people
not yet old enough to be adults and but no longer children...”

“Guys would work just as well,” Ron said with a smile. Sirius flashed that million watt grin at them.

“Thank you Ron,” he said. “OK, guys. Ron and Hermione, you’re going to go with Professor Figg and the, uh, Guardians...
Harry, Maura, we’re going to start you on some defence work.”

“All right,” Harry said, looking surreptitiously over at Hermione. Her face was impassive as she headed out of the room
with the slightly mysterious Clara and Patricia and Professor Figg.

“What are they going to do?” Maura voiced Harry’s own question.

“They’re going to go through some tests,” he said. “See how much potential they have, I suppose. And start on
channelling whatever it is that shamans and druids do.”

“Oh. OK.”

“Now, Maura, you’re not a witch?” asked Sirius.

“Well, I’ve been called one a couple of times, but strictly in an insulting sense,”

“All right,” Sirius said. “That limits you on the magical defence you can use. But Snape’s going to teach you potions
with the others.”

“Snape? Sirius, do we have to?” Harry whined. “I have enough of him during the day.”

Sirius didn’t bother hiding a grin.

“Sorry Harry. We all have to make sacrifices for the common good. Now, we could start with some physical defence. We can
see how much you both know...”

***

It was a particularly tired Harry Potter who dragged himself back up to Gryffindor Tower much later that evening. Sirius
had been an incredibly thorough and demanding teacher and Maura had been a more than able opponent. Even with cushioning
charms and the like, he still felt like a walking bruise.

“Harry! Are you all right?” Ron asked as he came into the common room. It was so late that most people had already gone
up to their dorms, and only Ron and Hermione remained in the common room.

“Maura’s very strong,” he said. Even his voice felt bruised, he thought.

“Didn’t you use protection charms?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, Hermione,” he said. “Funnily enough, if you hit someone hard enough, it still hurts.”

“Wait till everyone hears that Harry Potter got beaten up by a girl!” crowed Ron. Harry glared at him.

“If you tell anyone in the world, ever, about this, I’ll set her on you. That girl has some anger,” he said, flopping
down onto the sofa. “What did you do? Sirius said something about tests?”

“Yes, lots of tests,” moaned Ron. “We had to go into trances, real trances and I had to use a crystal ball... It was
like the Divination class from Hell.”

“Except that Guardians clearly know what they’re doing,” said Hermione, clearly quite impressed by the Guardians. “They
were just testing us to see the boundaries of our abilities.”

“Yeah. Of course, Hermione did brilliantly in all her tests,” added Ron.

“Ron did well too. He scared the older Guardian actually, by getting into such a deep trance.”

“Like in class earlier?”

“Yeah,” Ron said, looking at the floor.

“You went into a trance in class? What did you see?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing much.”

“What do you mean, nothing much?”

“I mean nothing much. I saw me and you two and Maura. That’s it. Standing in a square. A diamond, really. And there was
a circle. I didn’t know what it meant at first, but then when we went to see Dumbledore and Maura told us about
everything, it made sense.”

“Oh. Are you sure?” Hermione asked.

“Positive,” he said.

“What about you, Hermione?” asked Harry. “What did you have to do?”

“Well, they got me to enter a trance too, but it wasn’t that successful. I’m more of a philosopher, surprise, surprise.
I’ll be able to translate runes and heal you hopefully but don’t ask me about the future.”

“Oh. That’s good.” Harry said, smiling at her. She looked away.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. He got the same response as previous enquiries: no response.

“Hermione!” he exclaimed, making both Hermione and Ron jump slightly. “Why won’t you tell me what’s so obviously
bothering you?”

“Because I don’t want to!” she shouted back. Ron stood up.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” he said.

“No, don’t leave, Ron. I’ll leave,” she said, getting up and going up the stairs to her dorm. Harry stood up and went up
to the boys’ dorm. He retrieved the invisibility cloak and then went down.

“You’re going out? Harry, you’re going to be knackered tomorrow,” Ron advised.

“Yeah I know,” he said. But instead of going out, he went up the stairs to the girls’ dorm.

***

“Harry!” Hermione whispered angrily, painfully aware that her roommates were asleep. “Get out!”

Harry crossed the room in a couple of strides and took her by the arm. She went to shout, but remembered that Lavender
and Parvati were asleep. He dragged her out of the room, down the stairs and through the portrait hole. He didn’t stop,
in fact, until they were outside by the trees, where they’d been just the day before.

“What are you playing at?” she asked angrily. He sighed.

“I’m worried about you,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“Because ever since Maura told us all that stuff this afternoon, you’ve barely said a word. To me, at least. I know it’s
getting to you for some reason, and I want to know what it is.”

“Why?”

“I told you, I’m worried about you. I also know that you have a habit of bottling everything up until it gets too much
for you. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

She looked at him stonily for several moments before quite suddenly, she burst into tears. Not merely a few wet drops
falling from her eyes but big hacking sobs that made her entire body shake. Harry’s worried expression turned to one of
horror as he threw his arms around her. The two of them sank onto the cool grass and he rocked her back and forward very
gently.

“I don’t want you to die!” she sobbed noisily.

“I’m not going to die,” he replied immediately.

“No? You’re the hero of the piece. What do heroes do? They sacrifice themselves,” she sobbed. “I don’t want you to do
that, I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Leave you? I’d never leave you, Hermione,” he said. Her cries were so distressing to hear that several tears rolled
down his own cheeks.

“Promise?”

“I promise. Honestly, Hermione, what’s wrong? You can tell me anything.”

Hermione pulled away from him and paused while she stopped her crying.

“It was everything Maura said. About worrying about the people you love, the way that he died before they even had a
chance, the way that destiny just messed them around and...”

“And what?”

“I saw it in your face, you know,” she said with a slight sniff.

“What?”

“That hero look. That ‘I must be prepared to die for the common good’ look. Well, I don’t want you to do that. I’m all
for destroying Voldemort, but not if the cost is your life.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do. I don’t want to die, you know,” he said in a small voice. “But I need to think about all the ‘what if’
scenarios. I need to be prepared to die.”

“No you don’t! Harry, you’re seventeen years old! You should be thinking about your future and what you want to do when
you leave school, not worrying about whether you’ll live to sit your NEWTs.”

“I know.”

“Do you think about the future? I know what you said yesterday, but don’t you even daydream sometimes?” she asked.

“Oh, I dream about it all the time,” he admitted.

“Tell me,” she said.

“Hermione, I don’t know...”

“Hey, crying girl here! You have to comfort crying girls, you know.”

“All right. I dream about leaving school and getting a really cool job. Nothing like an Auror or some desk job at the
ministry. I’ve had enough of evil fighting already thanks. I don’t think I’d want the attention you get in professional
Quidditch either. No, I’d like to do something where I can spend most of my time at home.”

“Where do you live? In a big house or a flat or cottage?”

“Well...” he looked down at the grass, quite nervous to be sharing his dreams, even if it was with Hermione. Especially
because it was with Hermione. After all, she was a featured player in all of them.

“It’s in the countryside, far away from everything else in the world... It’s not a cottage really, it’s quite rambling.
A bit like the Burrow really. But it’s not too big. And it has a big, wild garden full of all kinds of plants that only
you or Neville would know the names of.”

“Do you... live alone?” she ventured.

“No,” he admitted, his gaze once more going to the grass. “I don’t.”

“Oh,” she said. Now it was her turn to look at the grass. He had someone in mind, she knew he did.

“Maura said that it was a bad idea that George told her that he loved her,” Harry said suddenly. She looked up,
confused. What was he going on about now?

“What do you mean?”

“But I don’t think so,” he said as if he hadn’t heard her. “I’d rather know... I’d rather tell the girl than die without
her ever knowing, or finding out some other way.”

Harry took a very, very deep breath.

“The girl in my idyllic dream... She’s you,” he said, exhaling sharply.

“What?”

“She’s you. In my dream, it’s always you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean, oh?” he asked anxiously.

“It’s funny,” she started in an unusually high voice. “That two people should have the exact same dream of their
futures, without ever having shared them before.”

“You mean it?” Harry’s face lit up like Oxford Street at Christmas.

“This garden... It’s full of trees too, and it’s so wild it might’ve been left for a hundred years?”

“Yes,” he said with widening eyes.

“And our house, it’s in the hills, maybe in the Lake District?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you told me,” she whispered.

“I’m glad I told you,” he whispered back. Then he looked at her mischievously. “Do we have children in your dream?”

“Whoa!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Me either.” he paused for a moment. “Two girls and a boy?” he asked. She nodded.

“Uh huh. I don’t really know why.”

“I love you, you know,” he said in quite a casual voice. She looked like she might cry again, but, remaining composed,
simply replied:

“I love you too.”

Then, he leaned over to her and kissed her, very softly indeed, their lips barely brushing. But all the same, it felt
like sparks were flying between them.

“Do you suppose this is what Maura meant by a connection?” he asked with a grin. Then he leaned back in again for
another kiss.

It was far more impassioned this time, no longer weighed down by the heavy mantle of ‘first kiss’. This was every ounce
of love, feeling and downright desire that had built up between the two over time. After what seemed like only seconds
and an eternity, they pulled apart to catch their breaths.

“I.... We.... We should probably get back, you know,” she said.

“Yes, you’re right,” he agreed, not moving a muscle.

“We’ve got a full day of classes, then you’ve got Quidditch practice, then we’ve got Sirius again,” she said, trying not
to notice the way Harry’s fingers were tracing a pattern on her back.

“Again, you’re right,” he said, still not moving away from her.

“It’s probably not even safe for us to be out here,” she said. Now he did move.

“I didn’t think about it that way. We should go back inside,” he said, back in hero-protector mode. They stood up and he
threw the cloak over them. This time, it wasn’t her imagination- he couldn’t have held her any closer as they made their
way back to Gryffindor Tower.

He kissed her good night, then they floated up to their dorms.

***

“What are you grinning about, Potter?” Ron asked. Harry had slept in later than the others and was now rushing around to
be ready in time for breakfast. Normally, this involved much swearing on the part of the individual. Harry, however, was
merely grinning like the Cheshire cat that got the cream.

“Nothing Ron, nothing,” he said. He wasn’t going to tell anyone, not even Ron, until he’d spoken to Hermione.

“So, I take it you finally kissed her?” asked Ron in a casual voice. Harry stopped.

“What?”

“Come off it Potter! Last night, you dragged Hermione off to some secret place, not returning for some time, and this
morning you’re grinning like a nutter. I may not be as clever as Hermione, but I’m not completely stupid.”

Harry merely grinned even wider. Ron let out a whoop.

“Finally! I thought after what Maura said yesterday, you’d never tell her.”

“Just because Maura said it, doesn’t make it so,” Harry said. “She’s not the boss of me.”

“No. I think Hermione is the boss of you.”

Harry blushed quite furiously.

“Come on, Harry, time for brekkie. I’m starved.”

They headed downstairs and found Hermione already at the table eating her breakfast.

“Good morning,” Harry said. Hermione looked up from her book and smiled a sweet, secret smile.

“Ron guessed,” he murmured to her.

“I’m not surprised. He’s much smarter than he lets on,” she said with another smile.

“You two made up, then?” Lavender cut into the conversation. They looked at her with matching quizzical expressions.

“What?”

“Yesterday at lunch, I thought you were going to go ten rounds right here in the Hall.”

“Oh. Yeah. We made up, Lavender. Don’t worry about us,” Harry said with a charming smile. It worked its magic on
Lavender, who turned away, blushing slightly.

“You charmer, you,” Hermione whispered. “We have to meet Professor Snape this evening, by the way.”

He sighed very deeply, and wondered if making an appointment for root canal surgery would get him out of it.

“Don’t look like that, Harry,” she said. “It might be very useful indeed to know some healing potions and that sort of
thing. Who knows what we’ll end up against?”

“Don’t give me the spiel. Sirius did it already. Nothing on the face of the Earth will ever make me glad for extra
Potions with Snape.”

***

After a full day of classes and not enough dinner (Harry and Hermione had ended up late after going to find books about
druids in the library), the four points of the diamond trudged down to the Potions dungeon.

“On time, I see,” drawled the Professor. “Wonders might never cease.”

Harry tensed and prepared himself to walk out. Hermione stuck her foot in front of him and gave him a look that said
‘Don’t even think about it’.

“It’s lovely to see you too, Professor,” Harry said in a syrupy tone. “I’ve always wanted to know more about Potions.”

If Snape felt the underlying tension in Harry’s voice, he chose to ignore it.

“Let’s get started, shall we? I’m sure none of us have any desire to be here all night,” Snape drawled.

They settled down in chairs at the front benches. Rather than sit at his desk, Snape came and sat with them.

“You’ll need potions for healing and things like that, if you can’t use magic. Healing charms and spells are much more
complicated than brewing a potion beforehand. Especially when one of your number has no explicit magical power.”

Surprisingly perhaps, this was not said in a spiteful or malicious tone, but simply as the fact that it was.

“I’ll also teach you some basic nutritional potions as well. Who knows what you’ll have to do, and a few vials of them
are more economical with space than food. They don’t perish easily either.”

He launched into a complicated description of various nutritional potions and after awhile, they began attempting to
brew a couple.

“Professor?” Hermione asked. For once, Snape didn’t roll his eyes, or make a smart comment about ‘Know-it-alls’.

“Yes, Granger?”

“Well... If we added something benign to the mixture, say parsley, surely it would taste nicer?”

“The point of the potion is not to be tasty but filling and nutritional,” he sneered.

“Yes, that’s true,” she said, not flinching under his glare. “But surely it’s better if we don’t spend five minutes
gagging from the taste?”

“Yes Miss Granger, I suppose that may be true. Why don’t you try it?”

His voice was malicious, but his face didn’t show ill feeling. So, she tried it.

***

“That was... Almost pleasant,” said Ron on their return to the already deserted common room. Maura was not with them.
She seemed to be retreating into herself again as they stepped up their training.

“Not fun,” said Harry. “But I didn’t feel suicidal at any time.”

“Honestly, you two. You have to look for the worst case scenario, don’t you?” asked Hermione.

“Sorry, its a hazard of the job,” said Harry, settling down into a chair beside the dying embers of the fire.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Ron asked.

“No idea. I think Sirius mentioned something about Mad-Eye, so there’ll be something to do with CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”

Hermione and Ron both jumped when he shouted without warning.

“Shh! You’ll wake the entire tower up!” she hissed.

“Why not? I’m knackered, why shouldn’t they be?” Harry asked peevishly. His eyes, however, sparkled with a smile.

“You’d be that mean?”

“Never,” he said quite softly. Ron moved to the stairs.

“That’s it! I’m not putting up with any more of this googly eyed stuff. Just snog her and have done with it will you?
I’m off to bed.”

“Aha!” Harry said, an evil glint in his eye. “I have the beautiful damsel all alone at last.”

Hermione giggled in a quite un-Hermione like manner and batted her eyelashes rapidly.

“Call me a damsel again, and I’ll have you,” she said, still with the big smile and eyelashes. He immediately looked
contrite.

“Sorry. Forgot that you’re one of those feminist chicks,”

“Hey!”

He laughed and muttered something very softly. Hermione found herself flying through the air onto his lap.

“I should never have taught you to summon things, should I?”

“On the contrary, I think it’s a brilliant charm that I can use fully to my advantage,” he said, leaning back in the
chair. She snuggled into him and for a while they just sat there.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think about me learning how to fly better?”

“Where did that come from?”

“Well, I was thinking earlier, after Snape reminded us that Maura’s a Muggle, to all intents and purposes. You and Ron
are the only ones who can fly to any real level of skill. What if we need to use broomsticks? Surely it’s best if only
one of us has to hitch a ride.”

“Oh I don’t know, I like the idea of you riding my broomstick,” he said with a lascivious grin.

“You’re incorrigible!” she exclaimed, torn between laughter and righteous annoyance.

“You’re beautiful. So?”

“You listen to Ron and Dean and Seamus too much. That scrawny little Harry I remember in First year wouldn’t dream of
being so coarse.”

“I know. Clueless or what?” Harry grinned. She laughed now.

“Shut up.”

“You got the line wrong,” he said.

“What?”

“In the movies, it’s never just ‘shut up’. It’s ‘shut up and kiss me’.”

“Oh. All right,” she sighed over-dramatically. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“If you say so.”

***

This became their schedule every day: class all day, dinner, then hours full of extra-curricular classes, before heading
back to the common room. Sometimes Maura would come with them and they’d all share amusing anecdotes of all kinds.
Sometimes she didn’t, but the nights always ended with Harry and Hermione alone in the common room trading smart remarks
and kisses.

After a few weeks, they even got used to the routine and found themselves considerably less tired from their hectic
schedule. What amazed Harry and Hermione most, though, was the way that nobody seemed to notice that they had become a
couple. They’d decided to keep it a secret, and nobody seemed to notice. Either that, or they assumed the two to have
been a couple already.

“Hermione!” whispered Harry. They were headed to dinner on this particular day when he suddenly dragged her into an
empty classroom.

“What?” she demanded, wondering why he had suddenly dragged her into an empty classroom.

“Nothing,” he said, his arms going around her waist.

“Harry! Someone might see us,” she said.

“No, there’s no one around. Everyone’s already at dinner,” he said, planting feather-light kisses on her neck. Finally,
she gave into the inevitable.

“No!” another voice cut in suddenly. They sprang apart to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, smirking broadly.
“This is too good.”

“Draco! Please don’t tell anyone,” Hermione asked in a sugary tone.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“Because if you do, I’ll tell everyone what I saw down at the Quidditch changing rooms last week.”

Draco’s usually pale face went surprisingly pink and he nodded.

“All right, Granger. Done. But if you tell anyone, the deal’s off.”

“All right, Malfoy.” Draco then sped off down the corridor, leaving Harry and Hermione to walk to the Great Hall.

“What did you see in the Quidditch changing rooms? Why were you there in the first place?”

“I was coming to see you and Ron,” she said. “But you were still practicing. And I promised Draco I wouldn’t tell.”

“Come on!” pleaded Harry. “Tell me. Was he with someone? Male, female? Animal, vegetable or mineral?”

“I’m not telling you, so you can just stop trying,” she said in what he recognised as her most resolved voice.

It had seemed like quite an innocent incident at the time.

***

To be continued...

Author’s Notes: I don’t know exactly when I’ll get the time to post the next few chapters here, so if you’d like to read
the rest, it’s easily available at The Pumpkin Cafe: groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Pumpkin_Cafe.

Thanks as always to Dan/Gryffinseye, Super!Beta

------------------------------------------------------------------------

5. Diabolical Plots And Surprising Secrets

Chapter Summary: After Hermione goes missing, it's up to the Order to try and find her. Harry struggles with the tumult
of emotions her kidnap, throws up while Ron and Maura get into a fight involving Boddingtons. Want a flake in that,
love?
And just what was Draco Malfoy doing in the Changing Rooms?

*

Chapter Five- Diabolical Plots & Surprising Secrets

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry asked Ron one evening about a week after the Draco incident. Ron had just settled down in a
chair in the common room near Harry’s own.

“No idea. The default answer is the library, but I’ve just come from there.”

“You were in the library? Why?” Harry didn’t bother disguising his surprise.

“Well, for your information, I was reading more about shamans. It’s really fascinating. They exist in so many cultures
and it’s interesting to find out the similarities and differences... Bloody Hell!” he exclaimed loudly, causing the
First years to jump.

“What?”

“I’m turning into Hermione! This shall not pass!”

“Calm down, Ron,” Harry said calmly. “You’re not turning into Hermione. You’ve just discovered that there’s a whole
other world outside the Quidditch stadium.”

“Don’t talk crazy, Potter,” Ron said with a grin. “Anyway, I thought she was with you.”

“Nope. She went to see Snape about a variation on the clotting potion. But I don’t think that would take...” he paused
to check the time. “An hour and a half. Not even Hermione is that obsessive about homework.”

“True. Maybe she got caught up somewhere else. After all, you and Hermione have been neglecting your prefect stuff.”

“I know. Fortunately, the other prefects don’t seem to mind taking on extra duties, and Draco’s been surprisingly good
about taking on everything as Head Boy. I think they all realise it’s for a reason.”

“Yeah, so you and Hermione can go off and snog.”

“What?”

“I saw you. Flying lesson was it?”

Harry blushed quite furiously.

“Yes. She wants to get proficient enough, in case we need to fly at some point.”

“Like yesterday?”

“Yes Ron, he said,” annoyed that he’d seen them. “Like yesterday.”

“You know, if you’d done that in the air, you could’ve done yourself an injury.”

“Thank you, Ron.” Harry said through gritted teeth. “But to get back onto the actual subject, we were wondering where
Hermione was.”

“Oh yeah. Not as fun, but OK. Well... Girls’ dorm?”

“Nope. She’d have to have passed me on the way up there.”

“Right. Um... Boys dorm?” he grinned wickedly.

“Damn,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “You’ve worked it out. I’ve got her tied up in the Boys dorm waiting to cater to
my every whim.”

“You’re a funny bloke, Potter. Tied up with what?”

“Focus, Ron,” said Harry, clearly back on edge.

“You made the joke,” Ron grumbled. “Maybe she went out flying on her own.”

“No. She’s still too apprehensive. Unless she scheduled another lesson with Madam Hooch. But we’re meant to be meeting
Sirius and McGonagall in five minutes.”

“OK... I’ve run out of ideas.”

“I did that about five minutes ago.”

“Might I suggest you use the Marauders’ Map?”

“Damn!” Harry said, wondering why it hadn’t occurred to him sooner. After all, he was starting to get quite worried
about this and he wasn’t really thinking rationally. Hermione usually told him and Ron every detail of her schedule. He
ran upstairs to get it. When he returned, he had truly gone a whiter shade of pale.

“What?” Ron asked, picking up on Harry’s changed mood.

“She’s not on it. Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“No. She usually comes up straight away, like me and you. But I tried everything. She’s not here.”

“Dumbledore?” Ron asked.

“We should stop off and get Sirius and McGonagall first.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

***

Twenty minutes later, every Order member in the vicinity was searching for Hermione Granger.

Harry stalked through the Forbidden Forest, wondering where Hermione was, and who would take her. Why would they take
her? Had someone found out about the two of them? Were they using it as a way to get at Harry? Because at the moment, it
was really working.

Three hours later, with night completely fallen, the members of the Order were congregated in the same abandoned
classroom that they seemed to use all the time. All the members were seated, calmly discussing the situation. Except, of
course for Harry, who was sitting, feet up on a desk at the other end of the classroom, balling his hands into fists.
Ron and Maura were also present, and both were watching Harry with concern.

“Harry!” Sirius called him back to Planet Earth. He turned to look at his godfather. “We’ve come up with a plan.”

“Good. Does it involve carnage?” he asked, ninety nine percent sarcasm and one percent anticipation.

“No, it doesn’t,” cut in Professor Figg. “We’re going to scour the country for her, strictly reconnaissance. We’ve got
Order members and affiliates out looking all over. But we don’t want to bring attention to the problem. But there’s not
a lot we can really do unless whoever took Hermione contacts us.”

“Why would they do that?” Harry scoffed.

“There’s not a lot of point trying to collect a ransom,” said Remus “if we don’t know where to send it.”

“Oh,” Harry said, looking down at the floor and feeling quite embarrassed. He was also getting the feeling that, unless
he calmed down, he’d be less than no help at all. Sirius seemed to read his mind.

“You need to stay calm, Harry. Keep a clear head. I know she’s your best friend, but...”

“Best friend?” Harry suddenly exploded with rage. “I’m in love with that girl!”

Everyone in the room besides Ron and Maura looked quite stunned. Perhaps they didn’t believe that ‘little’ Harry Potter
was at the stage of having such feelings. Perhaps they didn’t think it would happen with Hermione. Whatever their
reasons, they all looked quite surprised.

“This makes things a little clearer. Who have you told?” asked Dumbledore.

“No one. We kept it a secret from everyone but Ron and Maura. We didn’t want something like this happening.” Anger gave
way to desperation and he sank into the chair beside Ron. He immediately felt Ron’s hand on his shoulder.

“Well, you’ve done quite well, Harry,” said Professor Figg. “Because I certainly didn’t notice. Anyone?”

Everyone, including the usually omnipotent Dumbledore shook their heads.

“Oh bloody Hell!” Harry exclaimed. “Malfoy knows!”

“Malfoy?” now Ron looked stunned. “How does sodding Malfoy know?”

Harry went red. Everyone nodded.

“Let’s find Mr Malfoy and ask him a few friendly questions, shall we?” Sirius said, rising from his chair. But Snape
stood up.

“I’m afraid that Draco Malfoy was with me when Hermione came to the Potions dungeon. And he remained there with me until
I got the message from the Professor. He’s been working on a potential new lycanthropy antidote with me,” he turned to
Harry and looked him directly in the eye. “Honestly, Potter.”

Harry nodded.

“But he could’ve still spilled the beans,” said Maura in a cool voice that masked the fiery anger in her eyes. “We
should ask him.”

“Yes. Severus, perhaps you could go and find the boy? Take him to my office,” said Dumbledore. Snape nodded solemnly and
left the room. Dumbledore continued:

“Very well. I suggest that we proceed with the plan now anyway. I will owl you with anything Mr Malfoy can tell us.”

Everyone went their separate ways. Sirius hung back until the room contained only himself, Harry, Ron, Maura and
Dumbledore. He looked at Harry for a moment before hugging the boy.

“We’ll find her,” he said, flashing the famous Black Smile. “Promise.”

Then, he transfigured into Snuffles and bounded out of the door.

“Harry, I want you to stay here,” said Dumbledore.

“What?” Harry looked stunned and angry.

“I want you to stay here. If any owls come concerning her, they will come here,” he said.

“You think I’m too upset to look?” Harry asked indignantly.

“Yes,” said Ron firmly.

“What about you?”

“I love Hermione, it’s true. But I’m not in love with her. And my hands aren’t shaking so much I can’t hold my wand.”

Harry looked down at his hands. They were shaking and he hadn’t even realised. Morosely, he nodded.

“All right. I’ll stay here.”

“OK then Maura, let’s be off.” Ron said with false cheer.

“We’ll go to Kilburn and get the Guardians to give us a hand,” she said.

Harry nodded. Ron squeezed his shoulder once more before he and Maura also left. Now only he and Dumbledore remained.

“I can’t believe it!” Harry said angrily. “How can I not look? How can I be so messed up?”

“Because you are in love,” said the Professor simply. “It isn’t a crime, Harry.”

“No? What am I meant to do when we have to fight Voldemort? Ask him not to hurt Hermione because it might throw me off?”

His voice was rising again, and he felt another surge of anger. This time, he managed to hold it at bay.

“You’ll be fine, Harry. You’ll be prepared for what is coming. I have no doubt that you will rise to the occasion
admirably.”

“Yeah?” asked Harry in the manner of an insolent teen. “What if I don’t?”

“You will, Harry.” Dumbledore said with a smile that actually reassured him. “I must go and see Mr Malfoy. I will have
Dobby fetch you when we’re done. And as much as you love flying, perhaps it’s best if you stay in the castle.”

“Fine,” Harry’s heart sank. He’d been thinking of going for a fly to calm his nerves. Instead, he followed the
Headmaster out of the classroom before heading, for some reason, to the library.

***

He was reading about druid priestesses of the ancient Celts when Hagrid came into the library.

“There y’are Harry!” he said in a booming voice intended to be a whisper. He settled himself quite awkwardly into the
chair opposite Harry.

“Hello Hagrid,” he said in a monotone.

“They’ll find ‘er Harry, don’t you worry.”

“How do you know?”

“Because them’s that’s lookin’ fer Hermione are the best at what they do.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got a real soft spot fer ‘er, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked sadly, closing the book. When Hagrid saw the title, he grinned.

“No, not really. But I’ve known you since you was a tiny baby. Not much you can fool me about.”

“Yeah.” Harry smiled at his friend.

“You’ve bin busy with all this extra trainin’ have yeh?”

“Yeah. I’m knackered. Completely knackered.”

“Well, might I suggest some sleep?” Hagrid said with a toothy grin.

“At a time like this? I don’t think so.”

“Well, if yeh don’t, yeh’ll end up in the ‘ospital wing.”

“I’m waiting to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said stubbornly.

“Ah well, thought it were worth a try,” said Hagrid, graciously admitting defeat. “I’ll take Fang roun’ the Forest
again. Worth a try, I s’pose.”

“Thanks Hagrid,” Harry said. Hagrid gave him that toothy grin again and disappeared out of the library.

Dobby appeared about five minutes later.

“Dobby comes to find Harry Potter,” he said, and Harry noticed that Dobby was wearing some of the socks he’d bought for
him. “Professor Dumbledore says Harry Potter can come in now.”

“Thanks Dobby,” he said gratefully, before bolting out of the library.

***

“Come in, Harry,” said the Professor as the gargoyle opened. Harry was quite surprised to see Draco Malfoy sitting
there. His usual sneer was nowhere to be found on his thin face.

“I’m sorry, Potter, I didn’t mean...” he trailed off.

“Who did you tell?” Harry demanded, trying with all his might to keep his temper in check. He still had the presence of
mind to realise that Dumbledore wouldn’t appreciate the spilling of Draco blood in his office.

“Sit down, Harry,” said Dumbledore in that comforting voice. He did so, shooting glares at Draco.

“It appears that Mr Malfoy made a brief mention of your relationship with Miss Granger in a letter to his mother.”

“That’s all, I swear, Potter! I don’t hate you or her that much,”

“That’s nice to know,” Harry remarked dryly. Draco looked down at the floor.

“My father said something weird in a letter he wrote yesterday. I threw the letter away, but it said something about
finding Potter’s Achilles Heel. Trust me, Potter, I know you hate my father, but you don’t hate him nearly as much as I
do. If I’d known he was screening my letters to my Mum, I wouldn’t have said anything. I mean, a deal is a deal.”

“Yeah. That’s what she said. What were you doing in the changing rooms?”

Draco went very red and Harry realised that it wasn’t a look that suited him at all.

“Well, I’ve broken my half of the bargain, I suppose. I was practicing yoga,” he admitted.

“You do yoga?”

“I have hidden depths, Potter,” he drawled, recovering most of his poise. “And I’m not the cardboard cut out villain you
want me to be.”

“Well, I think we can narrow down our search a little,” said Dumbledore, finishing a letter he’d been writing. “I’ll
send Snuffles to the Malfoy mansion. He was closest to that area. I’m afraid, Draco, that it was one of the places we
thought likely.”

Draco snorted. “Of course it was.”

“Might I suggest, Harry, as it’s quite late, that you get some sleep? I’ll come and wake you if anything happens?”

“All right,” he said in a despondent voice. He stood and left the office. It was a few minutes before he noticed Draco
was walking right beside him.

“Do you, uh, remember that time on the train in the First year, Potter?”

“Most of it. It was where I met Hermione. Why?”

“Well, I... Uh... I offered you the hand of friendship then and you rejected it.”

“Do you blame me?” Harry asked in a tired voice. Draco shook his head.

“Probably not. I thought I’d offer it to you again now.”

“Why should I? What changed?”

“Umm... Well... I found out a few things recently... They got me thinking.”

“What?” Harry asked, intrigued. Draco looked furtively around the deserted corridor.

“Can we talk somewhere more private?”

“Fine,” Harry said with a sigh as he acquiesced and allowed Draco to lead him into a classroom.

Draco looked as if he might be in physical pain, but Harry realised that he was about to impart something very personal
and likely embarrassing.

“My mother told me a few things recently about her family that I didn’t know... I uh... Her maiden name is Richards.”

“What?” If Harry’s eyebrows could’ve shot up any higher, they would have done so.

“Don’t tell me it doesn’t ring a bell?”

“It does,” admitted Harry.

“She’s George Richards’ cousin. I know you know about him because I heard you and the Weasel talking about him.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“It means that my family isn’t totally evil,” Draco said with a self-satisfied smirk. “It means that part of my
bloodline is full of all that righteous and heroic stuff. But that isn’t even the best bit,” he said. Now he looked like
he was actually choking on the words.

“What?” asked Harry impatiently.

“My mother confided something in me the other day that nearly made me pass out. And I don’t do fainting.”

“What is it?”

“Ever wonder who your mum’s best friend at school was?” Draco asked cryptically. Harry stared, dumbfounded at him. What
was Draco trying to say? It couldn’t be...

“Funny, that was my reaction. Narcissa Malfoy and Lily Evans? It doesn’t sound likely.”

“What house was your mum in?” Harry asked curiously. Draco paled.

“Gryffindor,” he choked out, quite possibly in actual physical pain now. “The Richards in her coming out, I suppose. But
her mother was from one of the leading Dark families. I never quite understood how one of those upright Richardses
married a Borgia.”

“But why does any of this matter?” Harry asked. Draco sighed impatiently.

“Because, numbskull, it means that I’m not totally evil.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, thank you very much,” Draco sniffed imperiously. “I was brought up to believe that my family was Dark through and
through. No blemishes, no shades of grey, just Dark. But... I didn’t want to believe it. For the last seventeen years,
my life has been a charade worthy of What’s My Line.”

“You know that programme?”

“My mother loves Muggle television. Her favourite is Coronation Street. I suppose she lives in a gilded cage so she
likes to see the working class muck about.”

Harry noticed that, when talking of Narcissa Richards Malfoy, Draco looked a lot softer.

“You really love your mum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered. “And I hate what my father does to her.”

“What?” Harry asked with alarm.

“He makes her stay at home all the time, he doesn’t let her see any of her old friends. For starters.”

“What made her tell you everything?”

“I think she wants to keep me away from being a Death Eater. Maybe she just needed to talk to someone. It’s hard to keep
your sanity being a Malfoy. Especially...”

“What?”

“When your husband puts you under Imperious whenever you’re paraded out and about.”

“Oh. At the Quidditch World Cup?”

“Yep,” said Draco in a tone far lighter than the look in his eyes. “She loves Quidditch, you know. But he didn’t want
her making a spectacle of herself in front of everyone. Or getting in the way of his little prank.”

“Didn’t you enjoy that? Not even a little?” Harry asked.

“I thought it would’ve been funny if everyone hadn’t been so bloody frightened.”

Draco paused.

“None of this means that I’m about to become your newest bestest pal. It doesn’t mean I’ll be any less unpleasant to you
around school,” he said in his more usual sneer. “But it does mean that I don’t want to be your enemy. And I’m really
not evil. Hey, I’m part Richards!”

“You should talk to Maura,” Harry said with a laugh.

“I’ve been trying. But you lot have such closed ranks it’s hard to break down.”

“That’s why you’ve been hanging around asking questions?”

“Yes. What did you think it was?”

“I don’t know, spying for your dad?”

“Nah. He doesn’t trust me enough. I think he knew before I did that I’m not evil enough for him.”

“You’re only quasi-evil?”

Draco smiled, an open genuine smile that transformed his thin, slightly pointed face.

“Something like that.”

“All right,” Harry nodded. “But if you turn on us, if you join Lord Voldemort, I’ll rip you to shreds.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Draco said. “I’ll be off then.”

He went all the way to the doorway before turning back briefly.

“I hope they find her soon,” he said, sounding almost sincere. Then he was gone.

***

The sun rose the next morning as it always did and still Harry hadn’t actually got any sleep. He’d sat at the window all
night, watching for... He didn’t really know. Did he expect the Death Eaters to turn up and hand her over?

His heart had never ached this much before, not ever. The pain of never knowing his parents, of seeing Cedric die, it
all paled in comparison to this.

“And it’s all my fault,” he whispered desperately to himself. After all, when she was just his best friend, she’d been
safe. Ron was safe, wasn’t he? No, it was Harry falling in love with her that did it. Well.... His heart constricted
painfully as he decided what he had to do. Maura had been right, after all. If his being in love with Hermione put her
danger, well, he’d just have to pretend that he didn’t love her after all.

He didn’t bother picking up the shards of his broken heart off the floor.

***

“Can I please do something?” Harry asked. After lunch, he’d not bothered to turn up to Professor McGonagall’s class and
had instead gone to Dumbledore.

“Do you really think you’re in any state to do so?” Dumbledore asked gently. Harry did look a state: he had big black
rings under his eyes from the complete lack of sleep and a complexion pale and wan with worry. All in all he looked like
a rather ill-looking waxwork from Madame Tussaud’s.

“Please,” he said. Dumbledore shook his head.

“No. And it’s not only because of that. Kidnapping is a serious offence. The Order have discreetly tipped off the
aurors, who are investigating the kidnap of Hermione. If they go in it will be a full, public investigation and Malfoy
and his cronies will be hauled up in front of the Ministry. Of course, it will be in all the papers. It may do well to
leave this to the professionals for once. The more Death Eaters there are in Azkaban, the easier it will be on you all
when the battle comes.”

“What about when the Dementors abandon the prison? And you know they will.”

“I suspect it very highly, yes. Which is why there is constant Order surveillance at the prison.”

Harry smiled slightly. Dumbledore did seem to have everything covered. Except how Death Eaters got into Hogwarts in the
first place. He asked the Professor, who sighed heavily and looked as old as his years.

“Ah, well, unfortunately a couple of Mr Malfoy’s good friends are still governors of the school. There was a meeting of
the governors that morning. All they had to do was remain in the castle until the opportunity presented itself. It is
something that I have already ensured cannot happen again.”

The cold fury was back in Dumbledore’s eyes. After all, nobody ever hurt his precious students. Ever.

“All right,” Harry said, resigned to remaining in the castle.

“Don’t go to class, Harry. I want you to go to the hospital wing.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Harry?” the Professor asked as Harry went to leave. “I mean it.”

“Fine,” Harry said, throwing his hands up in the air. He didn’t have the energy to go against Dumbledore’s instructions.
He dawdled through the castle towards the hospital wing, mentally trying to calculate the percentage of his life he’d
spent in the hospital wing so far.

“Look at the state of you!” Madam Pomfrey exclaimed as he dragged himself into the hospital wing. “Why didn’t you come
here before?”

“Sorry,” Harry said with a yawn, fatigue really starting to hit him as he gave into it.

“Get in that bed now,” she said sternly. A pair of his own pyjamas were there waiting for him. Clearly, Dumbledore had
tipped off Dobby and the House-Elves. He changed quickly and slid under the crisp white sheets. Madam Pomfrey reappeared
and forced him to drink a potion he recalled all too well from Fourth year. Within minutes he was asleep.

***

When he awoke, the sun was streaming into the room. Looking at the time and date on his watch, he realised he’d slept
nearly an entire day away.

“Bloody Hell,” he muttered.

“I wouldn’t swear like that if I were you,” a familiar voice said. He turned around in bed and saw Ron standing at the
foot of his bed.

“Ron, you’re back? What happened? Is she back? Is she hurt?”

“Slow down, Harry, slow down,” he said smoothly, sitting down beside Harry’s bed.

“Maura and I are back. It’s official auror business now. They don’t want two kids messing about with their operation.
No, I don’t know what’s going on, so save your breath.”

“Sirius?”

“He’s keeping a discreet eye on the proceedings. All I know is that it’s something at Malfoy’s house. I’m not
surprised...”

“Ron, I should tell you something,” Harry said before launching into a short recap of the Draco incident.

“Blimey, wait till Maura hears.”

“I heard it all, dipstick,” she said, approaching with a bandaged hand. “I was only over there getting fixed up.”

“What happened?” asked Harry with concern.

“What?” Maura asked. When he pointed to her hand, she continued, “Oh, this. Not much really.”

“For ‘not much really’ read: got into a fight in a pub,” said Ron with a smirk.

“What?”

“Oh, I ran into an old school friend, had a pint of Boddingtons thrown at me. Wouldn’t have minded if it were Guinness.”

“An old school friend?” asked Harry. She grimaced.

“OK, when I say school friend, I mean the only person at school meaner than me. Right git, he was. Just did a spell in
Maidstone nick... Anyway, words were exchanged-”

“Then beer was thrown,” cut in Ron.

“And fisticuffs ensued,” finished Maura.

“Did you get into trouble?” Harry asked her.

“Nah, we scarpered before the police turned up. Although I probably shouldn’t show up round there any time soon.”

Harry smiled for what seemed the first time in days.

***

When Hermione had been gone for four days and Harry had been allowed out of Madam Pomfrey’s sight, an owl arrived for
Harry from Sirius. It simply read:

They’re moving in today at 3pm.

It was one of the shortest notes he’d ever received from Snuffles, but he really didn’t care. He teetered now between
completely manic buoyancy and excitement to complete despair. What if it didn’t work? What if they hurt Hermione? The
only thing that could be guaranteed was that if anyone spoke to him, they’d get a very snappish reply. By now of course,
it was obvious to all at Hogwarts that Hermione was missing, but none of them quite understood why Harry reacted so much
more violently than Ron.

The walking-on-eggshells phase lasted until 3pm, when Harry completely fell apart. He raced up to Dumbledore’s office
(Ron in hot pursuit) only to find the Headmaster unavailable. They managed to find Professor McGonagall, who informed
them that Dumbledore had gone to retrieve his student.

At four, they were going crazy with anticipation.

At five, Harry felt like leaping off the top of the Astronomy Tower and seeing if he could summon his Firebolt before he
slammed into the ground.

At six, he found himself walking around the lake incessantly. But it didn’t feel right: whenever he walked around the
lake, Hermione was there next to him. That’s how it had been in Fourth Year, and how it had been ever since.

At seven, the winter sun was fully set, and he trudged back into the school.

At eight o’clock, he set up watch at the front entrance of the school. Ron and Maura accompanied him, along with
Crookshanks, who had not taken Hermione’s sudden departure with grace. It was hard to tell who was more tense- Harry or
Crookshanks. They both paced up and down the entrance hall, stopping occasionally to swear quite loudly (Harry), hiss
angrily (Crookshanks) or hit something (both).

At half past eight, both too tired to continue pacing, Harry and Crookshanks settled on the cold stone floor of the
entrance hall, eyes on the door. Crookshanks (who had been a little cold to Harry since Harry and Hermione had begun
seeing each other) nestled comfortably in Harry’s lap. For his part, Harry stroked the cat’s fur gently. Ron and Maura
decided that they really did need to eat, and went off in search of some dinner.

At nine, the doors opened. Harry and Crookshanks were both fast asleep.

***

“Harry? Harry?” the voice was beautiful, like music or something, thought Harry. “Harry? Harry?” It was also quite
insistent.

“Honestly! I’m kidnapped for four days, and this is the welcome home I get!”

Harry’s eyes snapped open. A dirty, tired and slightly ill-looking Hermione was standing over him. Crookshanks was the
first to react, leaping into her arms eagerly. Harry was about a second behind him.

“You two made up then? I’m so glad!” she said with a smile.

“You’re back? You’re really back? This isn’t just a figment of my imagination?”

At that moment, Crookshanks jumped out of Hermione’s arms, a couple of claws scratching Harry. He winced.

“Apparently not,” he said, rubbing his arm.

He hugged her tightly, and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Harry, Hermione needs to go to the hospital wing now,” Sirius said. In his excitement, Harry hadn’t even noticed his
godfather standing there.

“Fine, fine.” Harry said, releasing her from the hug, but keeping hold of her hand.

“Harry?” Sirius said with extreme amusement. “Hermione needs to go to the hospital wing solo.”

“What? Why?”

“Do you want to deal with Madam Pomfrey on this one?” his godfather asked. Harry let go of Hermione’s hand after a
moment.

“Fine. But don’t think I won’t be waiting outside,” he said obstinately.

“All right, James,” Sirius said under his breath with a laugh. Hermione however, heard him and smiled sweetly.

***

True to his word, Harry was waiting outside the hospital wing when Madam Pomfrey finally came out to tell him that he
could see her now.

“Hey,” he called. Hermione was lying in bed looking quite tired, but no longer quite as sick.

“Hello!” she said happily. “Madam Pomfrey gave me some Pepper-Up Potion. I feel a lot better now.”

“Good,” he said, taking her hand. She smiled at him, tears shining in her eyes.

“I missed you Harry.”

“I missed you too,” he admitted. “They wouldn’t let me search for you.”

“Sirius said you shouted at the Order,” she said with a grin.

“Something like that.”

“Hermione! You’re back!” Ron came bounding into the room with his sister Ginny. Maura was a few paces behind them.

“Hello,” she said as they came rushing over to her beside.

“Quiet!” Madam Pomfrey demanded. They all sat in chairs around her bed and for about half an hour they chattered away
about school stuff, studiously avoiding the subject of Hermione’s kidnap.

Then, Draco Malfoy turned up. Ron growled, Maura growled, Ginny looked like she wanted to sock him and Hermione looked
tired and angry. Only Harry looked remotely pleased to see the boy.

“I’m sorry Granger... Hermione,” he corrected himself. “I didn’t realise that my father was reading my mother’s
letters.”

“Oh, that’s charming that is!” Ron started, his temper clearly getting the better of him.

“Leave him alone,” said Harry. They all looked at him, confounded. “He explained the whole thing.”

“And you believed him?” asked Ginny, giving Draco the evil eye.

“Yes. I did.” Harry said, looking Draco squarely in the eye.

“Is this really the time for this?” Draco asked. “I only came to see if you were all right. I’ll leave now.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. Just tied me to a chair in a dungeon and left me to rot,” Hermione said, unusual bitterness in her voice.

“I’m really sorry,” he said quietly before leaving again.

“What was that about?” demanded Ron, his anger still flaring. Harry recounted the conversation he’d had with Draco about
his mother, and in much more detail than the humorous account he’d given Ron and Maura previously. Throughout, Maura
remained silent, thinking very deeply.

“If anyone tipped off Voldemort as to who the Heir might be, surely it would be Lucius Malfoy?” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“You’re telling me that he doesn’t know exactly who the Richards family are?” she scoffed.

“What did he say to you Hermione?” asked Harry.

“Very little indeed.”

“Do you remember any of it?” he pressed.

“He was purposely cryptic, having kidnapped me and everything,” said Hermione in a sarcastic voice. “But he mentioned at
one point wondering ‘which of them’ would come to get me. Perhaps he used me as bait for both of you. He probably
thought that at least one of you would come for me, and statistically, one down is better for them.”

“It’s possible,” Harry said, his eyebrows creasing in thought. “You should speak to Dumbledore.”

“What do you think I’m doing tomorrow?”

“Oh. Course.”

“All right, I want you all out now!” demanded Madam Pomfrey. “It’s late and Hermione must rest.”

Ron and Maura said their good nights and left. Harry lingered for a moment longer.

“Bye Hermione,” he said very softly. He then gave her a kiss so sweet she was sure that Madam Pomfrey would have to
treat her for spontaneous diabetes.

“Night, Harry.”

Harry practically ran out of the room, glad she hadn’t noticed his choice of words. It was goodbye of a sort, for
tomorrow all would change. He would do as he had promised, for he would not willingly put her in danger again. Even if
it did kill him.

***

The next morning, Harry was summoned to the abandoned classroom/temporary Order HQ so that he could, along with the rest
of the Order, discover what had happened to Hermione. He studiously avoided looking at her, certain that if he did, any
resolve he had would disappear.

“Well, it all started when I was walking back from speaking to Professor Snape,” she started. Snape nodded. “I was
walking along the Potions corridor when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I whipped round to see who it was, but there
wasn’t anyone there. I thought Harry might have his invisibility cloak on so I didn’t run straight away,” she paused to
smile slightly at Harry.

“But when I got no immediate response, I started to get worried. I pulled out my wand, and whoever the invisible person
was, they knocked it out of my hand. I don’t know where it went.”

Professor Snape pulled it out of his robes.

“I found it this morning, it rolled under the door of the store cupboard in the corridor,” he said. She smiled
gratefully and took it from him.

“Thank you. Well, I tried shouting, but no sound came out. I think they must’ve incanted something without me hearing.
Anyway, the next thing I know, the invisible person knocked me to the ground. I think I hit my head on something,
because the next thing I remember was coming to in a car.”

“A car?”

“Yes. I thought it was very strange. I could hear the engine, but I couldn’t see out of the windows.”

“Were you alone?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes. I tried the doors of course, but they were firmly locked and without my wand or a handy hairpin, I was useless.
When the car stopped and the door opened, I feigned unconsciousness. I don’t know if it fooled them, but they
resuscitated me there and then. Probably didn’t want to carry me anymore.”

“What did you see when you got out of the car?” asked Sirius.

“Nothing. We were in a garage of some sort, I think. No windows that I could see, but it was dark out anyway. I was led
up into a mansion, full of horrible dark gothic stuff, really unpleasant. When I saw a large portrait of Draco Malfoy at
the age of two on the wall, I realised I must be at his house.”

“She was taken directly there. Interesting. I get the feeling that Lucius wasn’t necessarily working under instruction,
but was using his own initiative,” mused Remus.

“Well, I didn’t stay in the main part of the house very long. I was taken to his study and then my guard left and Lucius
Malfoy dragged me down into his dungeon. He threw me in a tiny little cell with one lit candle and tied me to a chair.
He didn’t say anything, just left me there.”

“What happened after that? You were there for four days? Did you see or hear anything?” asked McGonagall eagerly.

“Slow down, Minerva,” said Dumbledore calmly. “We will get the whole story in Hermione’s own time.”

“I apologise, Hermione,” she said with a rare but warm smile.

“Well, I really couldn’t tell you very much about when things happened. My watch broke when I hit the floor, I think.”

She held up her wrist to show them all the shattered face of her Muggle watch.

“But he came in three times over the course of my stay at the Hotel Malfoy,” she said with a wry grin.

“The first time was to throw a bottle of water at me for me to drink. Evian really isn’t my mineral water of choice, but
needs must, I suppose,” she laughed now.

“Only Malfoy would give a hostage mineral water,” said Sirius. “Just to show off, I suppose.”

“Did he feed you at all?” asked Snape. She shook her head.

“But I did have the nutrition potion we’d just completed, Professor. I made it last the four days, and it tasted good.”

Snape had never looked prouder.

“The second time he was with a couple of Death Eater friends.”

“How do you know they were Death Eaters?” Professor Figg asked.

“I saw the Mark on their arms. I think he was in the mood to show off because his friends were there, so he spent a
while taunting me about being a mudblood and not being pretty and things like that.”

“Are you all right?” asked Remus with concern.

“Of course. I didn’t believe him for a second. I know I have better marks than his son ever has, after all. And I don’t
really care if I don’t conform to Lucius Malfoy’s questionable standards of beauty.”

“It’s strange he didn’t speak to you more,” said McGonagall.

“I think... The way he was talking the third time, I got the feeling that he knew I wouldn’t talk, so he was going to
leave me there until I was prepared to talk. And he wasn’t about to waste his time with me before that happened.”

“What about the third time?”

“It was actually only about an hour before the raid. He came into my cell and starting telling me that nobody was
looking for me, that it hadn’t even been in the newspapers and that nobody in Hogwarts had even noticed. More morale
busting I suppose. But then he said that once he’d sent a note from me, one of ‘those two’ will come after me, trying to
be a hero. I don’t know if he was talking about Harry and Ron or Harry and Maura. But he definitely knew that Harry and
I had been going out. He said that Draco had been stupid enough to tell his mother.”

“Maura suggested,” started Harry, “That if Narcissa was aware of who Maura was because, they’re in-laws of a sort now,
perhaps Malfoy knew and was hoping to capture her to present to Voldemort.”

“It’s certainly plausible, and would explain why he didn’t tell Voldemort about the plan. After all, if Maura didn’t
come, or if he failed, he’d get it in the neck from Voldemort,” said Sirius.

“Well, whatever the reasons behind his decision to kidnap one of my students,” Dumbledore said, eyes flashing angrily
again. “He remains at large. The aurors who raided the house only found two minor Death Eaters in the house with her.”

“Perhaps he was tipped off?” said Sirius.

“Or he got out quick enough. Perhaps before the anti-apparation ward was active,” pondered Remus.

“We must keep a closer eye on Lucius Malfoy. He may now simply reveal the heir’s identity and location to Voldemort.”

“Alastor and I will set up watch at the house,” said Remus. “I don’t have a full moon coming up for a while.”

“Good,” Dumbledore nodded. “I think we should perhaps step up our reconnaissance of other known Death Eaters as well.
MacNair, Crabbe, Goyle and the rest of the usual suspects.”

They then sat for a while discussing who would trail who. Throughout, Hermione tried to catch Harry’s eye, but he seemed
to be avoiding her gaze. She looked questioningly at Ron, who simply shrugged.

“And finally, I would like to announce that Ron and Hermione will be initiated as full members of the Order of the
Phoenix next week,” said Dumbledore. They smiled eagerly.

“Really?” Harry looked up at him with a grin.

“Yes. We will hold the initiation ceremony on Monday at the time you would usually be with Professor Snape in the
evening.”

Harry tried to not look too relieved at that happy turn of events.

“I think that’s every thing for now, don’t you?” Dumbledore said. “I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your classes.”

“Yes Professor,” said Hermione, as if the most traumatic thing about being kidnapped was missing classes. For her,
thought Harry, it probably was. He smiled quite fondly before quashing the feeling. He knew what he had to do, and he
would do it.

Harry walked briskly out of the classroom, not giving Ron or Hermione the chance to catch up.

***

By the end of the day, any chance Hermione had of simply imagining Harry’s odd behaviour were dashed. They had continued
their after-dinner tuition, although Sirius had insisted that Hermione sit out most of the physical lessons for a few
days. Then, as was their custom, they headed back to the common room. Ron excused himself very quickly, knowing that
Hermione wanted Harry all to herself, and imagining that it worked the other way around too.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” she asked gently, sitting beside him in front of the fire.

“Oh. Uh...” he stammered. Could he do it? Was he really brave enough to give up Hermione? He cleared his throat, buying
time. He was a Gryffindor, damn right he was brave enough, he told himself angrily.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said in a tone that could only be described as ominous.

“You have?” she asked, quite cautiously.

“I don’t think... I don’t...” he said, trying to choke the words out, but they weren’t coming. He’d never broken up with
a girl before, and especially not with this one. This had never featured in the dream. OK Potter, he told himself, just
come straight out with it. Like ripping off a plaster. Quick and easy.

“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore.”

“What?” Hermione’s face fell completely. Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “Might I ask why?” she
managed to ask after a moment.

“Lots of things.”

“Are you trying to be noble and heroic after what happened to me, because if you are...”

Harry cursed himself inwardly. Of course she worked it out, he thought irritably.

“No, it’s not that,” he lied, getting up and going to the window.

“What is it then?” she demanded, upset giving way to anger. “Another witch caught your fancy over the last four days?
You and Malfoy have decided to elope to Amsterdam?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then what?” she shouted, trying to not wake up the sleeping Gryffindors in the dorms above.

“I don’t love you.”

The bomb dropped and promptly shattered everything.

“What?” she whispered. He fought to bite back tears. He was lying, he knew that! He couldn’t stand to see Hermione like
this. But this hurt would go away, he knew that. It was better to get this done now, before she could get hurt anymore.

“I don’t love you.”

Tears fell from Hermione’s eyes as he repeated it, but she was quite clearly refusing to actually cry. She stood up
gracefully, and Harry was once again amazed by her. She carried herself with such dignity, even when she wanted to fall
apart, he thought. Oh, he was a liar, all right.

“All right,” she said softly. His heart was screaming now. How was it all right? How would it ever be all right again?

“Hermione, you’re still my friend-”

“Well of course. You need me to help you and I promised you I would.”

“We could just go back to how we were before.”

“I think that’s best. I mean, it’s not like anybody knew about us,” she said, her eyes shining with those unshed tears.
“Good night, Harry.”

Her voice had a strange calmness to it that bordered on coldness. Instead of turning to go upstairs, she went out of the
portrait hole. Every fibre in his body begged him to run after her and tell her it was all a lie. But that damned brain
of his forced him to stay. And he wouldn’t cry. Nope, he wouldn’t cry, he thought as tears pricked the back of his
eyelids.

Heroes don’t cry.

***

To be continued...

Author’s Notes: I don’t know exactly when I’ll get the time to post the next few chapters here, so if you’d like to read
the rest, it’s easily available at The Pumpkin Cafe: groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Pumpkin_Cafe.

Thanks as always to Dan/Gryffinseye, Super!Beta.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

6. Initiations and Animagi

Chapter Summary: The morning after the evening before, and both Harry & Hermione must deal with what he said. Plus, the
Order of Phoenix gains two more members and our trio discover what animals they have in their hearts and souls. And if
that wasn't enough, Hermione finds out a few things about herself.

*

Chapter Six- Initiations & Animagi

Even if they hadn’t noticed that Harry and Hermione had been going out, everyone noticed how cold they were to each
other the next day. At breakfast, Hermione remained there only long enough to grab a slice of toast and disappear.
During the course of the day, Ron calculated that they said a total of five words to each other.

Finally, after the most tense Potions evening lesson ever, Ron cornered Harry.

“What did you say?” he demanded. Harry looked up at him with sad, tired eyes.

“What?”

“To Hermione? What did you say or do that has you both this way?”

“I broke up with her.”

Ron’s eyes goggled with disbelief.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

“Why?” Ron asked. Harry wondered if he could tell Ron the real reason. No, Ron would only force him to see the other
side or worse, tell Hermione. No, he had to keep the lie going.

“I don’t love her.”

“Yeah right,” scoffed Ron. “And I’m a Magpie fan.”

“I don’t,” Harry repeated stubbornly. Ron sighed, knowing that he was likely to get more out of a brick wall.

“Fine, don’t tell me. But I’m warning you now, if you do anything to hurt her, I will hex you so badly you’ll wish
Voldemort would come to finish you off.”

“All right.”

“Come on, we should get some sleep. I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to sleep long enough to dream,” Ron said,
trying to pull his friend out of this cold mood.

***

“I know what he’s doing,” said Hermione. Her voice quivered slightly as she forced another sob down. She wasn’t going to
cry over Harry Potter. Not now, not ever.

“What?” asked Maura nervously. She wasn’t good with girl talk, and even worse with advice and consolation, but she was
going to try. She’d only gone to ask Hermione a question about Voldemort and had found the girl sitting in her dorm
staring into space.

“He’s pushing me away so that Death Eaters don’t try to come after me again. Or some heroic bollocks that doesn’t
matter!” she was getting angry now. It took a lot to make Hermione swear, but real anger brought it out of her.

“Oh. Heroes, huh? Who’d have them?” Maura said wryly, figuring that if she was no good with sympathy, she might as well
go with the sarcastic comments. She managed to extract a slight smile from Hermione.

“You would.”

“Yes, but I’m not exactly sane, am I? When they handed out compassion and sanity, I was in the line for sarcasm and
spite.”

“You’re not spiteful,” said Hermione.

“No? Give me a chance to warm up a bit.”

“You’re not as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

“Yes I am. And that’s not the issue here. If it hurts, confront the daft prat.”

“No, no,” Hermione said in an almost serene voice. “I know that daft prat. He won’t let me in now. He’s put up all these
walls up to stop me getting in. He’s tried it before. He nearly didn’t tell me in the first place, you know.”

“Why?”

“Because of what you said about you and about George. That time, his heart won out. This time, that part of his brain
that’s certain he’s meant to be a 24-hour-a-day hero won.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He has to decide for himself. I’m his best friend and that won’t change. I’ll still be
there to help, but if he wants to love me again, he has to come to me.”

“That’s awfully stubborn.”

“Yes. I’m as good at pig-headedness as he is.”

“You make a right pair, you know that? It’s different than me and George you know. We barely knew each other and it was
all new. You two know each other inside out and back to front. Even I can see that.”

“Well, we’ll just have to see what happens. It’s probably better this way. He gets to concentrate on saving the world
and killing Voldemort.”

“Well, you know what they say: all work and no play makes Jack a dull beanstalk.”

Hermione laughed at Maura’s variation on the phrase.

“Do you suppose you’ll ever fall in love again?” Hermione asked Maura.

“I know I won’t,” she answered without needing to think about it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“No. I stopped feeling a very long time ago.”

“But you opened up to us.”

“A bit. But there were only two people who ever really gave a damn about me. One is dead and the other... She promised
me that if we ever met again, only one of us would survive.”

“Katerina hates you that much?”

“Yes. She stuck by me for years and years when not even my family did. I betrayed her. I don’t blame her.”

“Falling in love isn’t a crime, you know,” Hermione said gently.

“It is if you’re me. Heroes aren’t allowed to fall in love. Look at those Jedi dipsticks,” Maura said.

“I never liked Star Wars,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Neither did I,” said Maura. “But know this: no matter how much it hurts now, you’ll survive.”

“I know.”

“And you can always give him a good arse-kicking when Sirius lets you train again.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it,” she said. “Thanks.”

“I should go,” said Maura. She went to the door, but stopped and turned back. “Why did you tell me all this? I’m
nobody’s first choice of confidante.”

“Because... Because I knew you’d understand.”

***

Monday came, and with it, the initiation of Ron and Hermione into the Order of the Phoenix. Both were excited at the
prospect and found their attention dwindling as the day went on. After dinner, they both received owls informing them of
the location of their initiation. Harry was nowhere to be found, so they guessed he was already there.

“Ready Hermione?” asked Ron.

“I am. Let’s go,” she replied. They began following the directions to the mystery location.

“What do you suppose we’ll have to do?” Hermione asked as they walked along.

“Pledge allegiance, offer up our lives, some blood rituals, perhaps there will be goat slaughter.”

“You’ve no idea, have you?” she asked with a laugh.

“None at all.”

After five minutes, they arrived down a corridor they’d never seen before. At the end was a hefty oak door. According to
the letter, they needed to knock. Ron did so, and the door swung open to expose a narrow stone staircase spiralling
downwards.

“Lumos,” Hermione said, and her wand light filled the dark staircase. Ron did the same and followed her down the stairs.
Neither particularly liked it when the door swung closed behind them. But they continued down the stairs, which opened
out into a hall at the bottom.

It was as old as the oldest parts of Hogwarts. The stone floor was worn with a thousand years of use, and the only light
was from torches on the walls, giving the room a warm, if slightly eerie glow. On the walls hung five tapestries:
Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin and another in a deep shade of purple. Embroidered onto it in gold was a
phoenix rampant. Hermione had always thought that it was lions that were rampant on shields. But then, that was the
Muggle world...

All thoughts of such things flew from her mind when she looked at the rest of the room. There was a circular stone table
in the centre of the room, and the members of the Order were standing, ready to sit down at it. Each member of the Order
was wearing a deeply coloured robe. Harry’s robe, she noted, was the same colour as his eyes. She tried to squelch the
rush of feelings rising inside her. This, she told herself sternly, was not the time.

“Come to the table,” said Dumbledore, resplendent in a scarlet robe. “There are seats for you.”

Ron and Hermione did so, and Hermione realised that her seat was exactly opposite Harry’s. They did not sit down yet,
sensing that it was not yet time.

“Do you both swear to uphold the right to freedom of all people, male or female, wizard or Muggle?” asked Dumbledore,
launching straight into the initiation.

“I do,” they both said quite nervously. Sirius had told them a little bit about this bit, but nothing specific.

“Do you both swear to fight evil in its many forms and disguises, to the best of your ability?”

“I do,” they both repeated.

“Do you swear to put this duty above all things, be it family or friends or life itself?”

“I do,” they both said without hesitation. Neither were the sorts to shirk away from duty, after all.

“Do you promise to hold the lives of your fellow brothers and sisters in the Order dear to you?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to remain true to yourselves and the Order, always?”

“I do.” Hermione thought was a strange question to ask, but answered anyway. She supposed that it was an important thing
to ask.

“Then we welcome you into the Order of the Phoenix,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. Both let out sighs of relief.

“Ah, you’re not done yet,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “First, you must give yourselves to the Order.”

Ron looked quite panicked. What exactly did that mean? Was there really going to be goat slaughter?

“Don’t look so scared Ron,” whispered Sirius, sitting next to him. Then, he drew out a highly jewelled dagger. Now Ron
looked scared.

“Hold out your hand,” instructed Sirius. Ron did so. Sirius took the dagger, and quite gently, pricked the end of Ron’s
little finger. He then extended Ron’s arm over a gold bowl in the centre of the table. It looked a lot like a small gold
pensieve, and whatever was inside was gold in colour and swirled like thick cream. Sirius held Ron’s finger over the
bowl and allowed one drop to fall into the bowl. Then he cast a quick healing charm and Ron’s finger was good as new.

“Now it is Hermione’s turn,” said Dumbledore. Sirius passed the dagger to the person standing next to Hermione: Snape.
He repeated what Sirius had done, allowing one drop of Hermione’s blood to fall into the gold bowl. But instead of
healing her finger with a charm, he gave her a potion to drink. When it worked as quickly as the charm, Snape smirked at
Sirius.

“You are now fully initiated into the Order of the Phoenix. It is a bond that will last for the rest of your lives,
which we sincerely hope will be a very long time,” said Dumbledore. “And we have gifts for you.”

The person sitting on the other side of Ron, Remus Lupin, handed him a long robe, just like theirs, in a deep blue
colour. Ron could be heard to mutter as he put it on:

“At least it isn’t maroon.”

The person sitting on the other side of Hermione, Professor McGonagall, handed her a robe. It was the same deep, royal
purple as that of the phoenix tapestry.

“You may sit down,” said Dumbledore. Everyone did so, and Hermione marvelled that her stone seat was as comfortable as
it was. Then she kicked herself: this was a room full of highly powerful wizards and witches- how hard would it be for
them to add a couple of cushioning charms to the chairs?

“This is the legendary Round Table from the days of Arthur and Camelot,” said Dumbledore for Ron and Hermione’s benefit.
“In those days, wizards and Muggles lived side by side, openly. King Arthur was a Muggle, but Merlin was, as we all
know, a wizard. Those days are long gone, considered only myth by most Muggles, and almost as many wizards. But this
table is that very thing of legend. Nobody is above anyone else here. I may lead our meetings, but I am no more or less
than Ron or Hermione or Sirius or Severus. This table was used by the Founders and their knights and was brought here at
the founding of the school. It was from here that Salazar Slytherin left and to this day, he is the only member of the
Order not to remain a member to his death.”

Dumbledore paused for a dramatic moment.

“We now have a full table,” he said. “Something we have not needed for nearly twenty years. But now the time has come
and we must be prepared for the war which we all know is coming. Together we are strong, but divided we are most
certainly weak. Your fellow members are your brothers and sisters, and together I am certain that we can defeat
Voldemort for good.”

Then, Dumbledore gave quite a childlike grin.

“I think that’s enough of the dramatic stuff, don’t you?”

“Indeed Albus,” said McGonagall. “I think you’ve terrified them.”

They all laughed, Ron and Hermione from relief, the others from amusement. Harry laughed too, remembering how incredibly
terrified he’d been when inducted last year. Even more so, when he discovered that the last person to sit in his place
had been none other than James Potter.

“So,” Dumbledore said conversationally, all tension gone from the room. “What is everyone doing for Christmas?”

A spirited conversation sprang up around the table about Christmas and soon tales of all manner of Hogwarts Christmases
were being told, including one which involved Sirius, a tin of Tate & Lyle golden syrup and a feather pillow. But of
course, all good things must come to an end, and soon they were preparing to leave this warm, friendly chamber and go
about their business.

“What do I do with my robe, Professor?” asked Hermione. McGonagall smiled.

“Keep it, of course. It’s yours,” she said. At Hermione’s nervous look, she continued “You’ll only need it for formal
occasions like this. Just keep in in your wardrobe.”

“All right.”

“See you in the morning, Hermione,” McGonagall said, before heading up the stairs with Mundungus Fletcher and Professor
Figg.

“Hey Hermione!” Ron bounded over, clearly over the moon at becoming a member of the Order.

“Nice robe, Ron.”

“I know. And not maroon! Do you know I can use it as a dress robe too?”

“I didn’t know about that,” she said.

“Congratulations,” said Harry coming over and smiling at both of them. Hermione smiled back a little shyly. She might
know why he did what he did, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. Nor did it mean she knew how to act around him.
She watched as he hugged Ron, then he turned to her and did the same. Contact was brief but electric.

“Let’s go,” said Harry quickly before heading up the stairs.

***

The next day, they were quite surprised, when they arrived at their extra training, to find McGonagall and Sirius. They
had been expecting to do more with their fighting skills, and McGonagall had been preparing them for their animagus
training.

“We’ve decided to start you a little early on your animagus training,” explained the Professor. “Are you all intending
to stay here at Christmas?” she asked in a tone that left no room for ‘no’.

“Yes,” answered Harry for each of them.

“Good. We can do some intensive work then when we have much of the castle to ourselves. Now, Sirius has offered to help,
although you’ll find that if you train properly,” she threw him a dirty glare, “You can complete your training much more
rapidly than he did.”

Instead of returning her glare, Sirius flashed her a dazzling smile and winked at the trio.

“It is not an easy process,” McGonagall told them “but if you work hard, you should have no problems.”

“How do we know what animal we become?” asked Hermione.

“Can we choose?” asked Ron eagerly, thinking it might be quite cool to become a Siberian tiger.

“Well, it is said that there is an element of choice, Mr Weasley,” she said. “But it comes from the deepest recesses of
your subconscious and is quite a good reflection of one’s personality and character.”

“Ergo, Peter Pettigrew: rat,” remarked Sirius.

“Quite,” said Professor McGonagall. “And therefore, Sirius Black: dog.”

Not expecting to hear jokes from the usually staid McGonagall, the three paused a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Exactly Professor, exactly.” he said. “What are you again?”

More laughter from everyone in the room. McGonagall was the first to refocus and began lecturing them in great depth
about the requirements for becoming an animagus. No wonder there weren’t many registered- this stuff was seriously
difficult. In fact, Professor McGonagall was insisting that they learn all the theory before they even considered trying
to transform. This was something Hermione was actively looking forward to, although Harry and Ron were suddenly less
keen.

***

The Christmas holidays started soon after, and the three were grateful that they no longer had to partake in daytime
classes. Of course, their evening work was extended and they found themselves practicing duelling with Professor
Flitwick and Professor Snape in the mornings, while they continued studying transfiguration in the afternoons.

For once, however, their evenings were free. This was a turn of events Harry had been looking forward to, but now that
he and Hermione were no longer together, it didn’t seem to matter as much.

“Harry?” she asked. He looked up from his book to find Hermione standing there, looking quite nervous.

“Yes?”

“I um... Well, do you remember you said you’d help me with my flying lessons? Madam Hooch went home for Christmas and I
was wondering...”

“Of course I’ll help,” he said with a smile. Friends, he told himself firmly, we’re still best friends. I can do this
for her.

“Thanks,” she said, looking quite relieved. He stood up.

“We should get started before it gets too dark.”

“All right,” she said, following him out of the tower.

“Have you been practicing on a school broom?”

“I was but...” she looked excited. “Madam Hooch has lent me her Nimbus 2000 for the duration of Christmas!” Hermione was
practically hopping up and down with excitement. He grinned.

“I take it you’re starting to enjoy flying, then?”

“Yes. Just... when I’m flying, I feel really free. It’s strange, you know, but I never thought I’d like flying, but it
just feels... right, I suppose. I mean, it’s not the easiest thing I’ve ever done, but I think I’m getting the hang of
it. Madam Hooch says that it’s a confidence thing.”

“You, Hermione Granger, not confident?” Harry looked stunned.

“Harry, you know very well that not everyone can excel at everything. Except you, of course.”

“I’m not good at everything!”

“No? When was the last time you got less than 90% in a test? Even when you didn’t bother studying? Face it Potter,
you’re some sort of aberration.”

“Aberration?”

“Yes,” she said. “Everyone needs something that they’re not so good at. It keeps them human.”

“Ah! I’m really bad at Divination!” he crowed triumphantly. “I suck at Divination!”

“There you go. You’re human after all.”

“And I’m not so very perfect,” he said. She snorted.

“Yes, I know.”

There was a moment’s awkward silence as they both tried to think about exactly what she meant.

“I mean, I never study. I have a really horrible temper when I get angry...” he trailed off as they reached the broom
shed. Opening the door with the required password Harry went in and got his Firebolt, while Hermione found Madam Hooch’s
Nimbus.

“It’s nice,” he said appreciatively. “I liked my old broom. Not as much as I love my Firebolt of course, but there’s
something about the Nimbus...”

“Harry, it’s cold and getting dark. I thought we’d skip the broom lecture?” she said. He went to protest but on seeing
her smiling, thought better of it.

“Come on then, show me what you’ve got.”

“Fine.” Hermione swung her leg over the broom gracefully and lifted up into the air. Harry watched closely for a minute
or two as she flew, before flying to join her.

“Tuck your left leg in more. You’ll be more balanced,” he advised as they flew over the grounds. As the lesson went on
and he gave her more of such advice, she grew in confidence and by the time it was too dark to continue, she seemed to
have solved the confidence issue.

“You’re really doing very well,” Harry said as he locked the broom shed and they headed up to the castle. “I’ll ask
Sirius if you can join us in our lessons.”

“You’re learning to fly?”

“Yeah. Offensive and defensive manoeuvres. Battle flying, if you will.”

“Is it difficult?” she asked, biting the bottom of her lip anxiously.

“Some of it is. I nearly fell off my broom the other day. But I maintain that Ron was distracting me.”

“Oh of course.”

They went inside and found the warmth of the castle soothing after so long outside in the cold. As they were going
upstairs, they bumped into Maura. She was dressed to go out and was carrying a holdall.

“There you are!” she said, relief etched in her face. “I just wanted to say ‘Happy Christmas’ before I left.”

“Where are you going?” asked Hermione.

“I’m going to spend Christmas with my daughter,” Maura said in her usual cool tones. She couldn’t help a smile spreading
across her face, however.

“That’s wonderful!” said Hermione.

“Be careful,” added Harry. “Lucius Malfoy probably knows who you are by now.”

“I know, I know. I should be back in two weeks. Happy Christmas,” she said again, before bounding down the stairs. Harry
and Hermione continued on their way.

“It’s nice that she gets to spend Christmas with her daughter, don’t you think?” Hermione said.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, Deirdre’s all she has left of George really, when you think about it.”

“Yeah. ‘Twas the night before Christmas’,” he said to the Fat Lady, who swung open with a quick Christmas greeting to
them.

“Hey, you’re back!” said Ron, not getting up from warming his feet by the common room fire. “Did you see Maura?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, joining him in the feet-warming.

“I’ll be upstairs,” said Hermione with a yawn. She then bounded up the stairs to her dorm.

The other Gryffindor girls had gone home for Christmas, so she was alone. She flopped onto her bed and sighed very
deeply. She had enjoyed her flying lesson- not only had she improved quite considerably under Harry’s tuition, but it
had been fun. It had been like before she was kidnapped. Knowing why Harry had pushed her away was all very well, but it
didn’t make the hurt go away.

It was painful for Hermione to watch him begin his process of drawing away from the world. He’d stepped down as
Quidditch captain although he remained on the team. By now of course, the other Gryffindors had guessed something big
was going on: for Harry to stop being captain, it had to be something life-threateningly huge. Of course there was also
the way the trio and their mysterious friend disappeared every night and the way Hermione had been kidnapped. Yes, the
other Gryffindors and many others in the school knew that something was coming. But it seemed that they had the sense
not to ask. They’d find out in due course.

***

Christmas came and went with the usual pomp of a Hogwarts Christmas, although there were remarkably few students this
year: only Harry, Hermione, Ron, a Hufflepuff First year and a Ravenclaw Third year. By the end of the holidays,
McGonagall had still not let the three try to transform and even Hermione was getting impatient. But the other students
returned to school and classes resumed without any of them even gaining so much as a paw.

There was one major change in timetabling, however. Every student in the Fourth year and above was to take classes in
duelling, taught by the foremost duellers in school: Flitwick, Snape and a new teacher by the name of White. He was a
most popular teacher- friendly, outgoing. He was quite handsome really, and his dazzling smile quickly sparked off many
schoolgirl crushes. And not one student recognised him as the criminal Sirius Black.

“You would think,” Harry whispered to Hermione during the Seventh year duelling class “that he’d have to do more than
simply dye his hair blond.”

“Yes, but it’s been a few years since his picture was plastered all over the Prophet. And then he was thin and sick. Now
he’s...” Hermione trailed off as she watched Sirius.

“Are you getting a crush on my godfather, Hermione?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Not even remotely,” she said. “I was going to say well-fed and happy.”

“Oh. Good. The emotional repercussions of you lusting after Sirius are too dreadful to contemplate.”

“Well,” she said. “I don’t have a crush on anyone. So I hope that makes you feel better.”

Harry flinched at the slightly bitter note in her voice, but he didn’t blame her for a second. The class continued
silently for the pair after that.

***

Finally, two weeks after term began, McGonagall said that they were finally ready to transform into animagi. It would be
quite painful the first time, she told them, but Sirius was going to be on hand ready to transform if need be.

Harry went first, trying to remember everything he could, while at the same time wondering what he was going to be. He
quite liked the idea of being a stag, like his father.

“Bloody Hell!” he heard Ron exclaimed. Then he heard a deafening roar. Was that him? He padded over to the mirror
McGonagall had set up. Harry Potter was a lion, a huge golden lion with a quite magnificent dark brown mane, which he
couldn’t help shaking slightly like he saw real lions do on television. As the pain became almost too much, he
transformed back.

“Of all the things you could’ve been,” said Sirius. “You couldn’t think of anything a little more inconspicuous?”

“I didn’t choose,” Harry panted, lying on the floor trying to ignore the ache in his arms. “It chose me.”

“Well, the lion is a brave, noble creature. King of the jungle and all that,” said Hermione, not surprised in the least,
but wondering how Harry would ever be able to transform without sparking nationwide panic over ‘Lion escapes from Zoo’
reports. Perhaps the Beast on Bodmin Moor was just an wizard animagus...

“Ron, you next,” said McGonagall. Harry had got up from the floor and was now slumped tiredly in a chair.

Ron transformed quite quickly.

“Not you too!” said Sirius. As Harry had done, Ron turned in his animagus form to the mirror. He remembered thinking it
might be nice to be a Siberian tiger some weeks ago, but this... He was a tiger, but instead of the white fur of a
Siberian, he had the vivid red/orange fur and black stripes of a Bengal tiger. He transformed back, the pain
overwhelming him.

“I can’t even get rid of my hair when I’m an animal!” he moaned.

“You two are going to strike terror into hearts all over Britain, you know,” Sirius said. Ron got up off the floor to
give Hermione some room.

“I wonder what Hermione’s going to be? A leopard or a panther, perhaps?” said Sirius, grinning, clearly quite amused at
the whole thing. Harry now wondered what it was like when he and the Marauders had transformed for the first time. How
had they felt when it turned out that Peter was a rat?

Hermione concentrated with all her might on her transformation. Suddenly, quite suddenly, she felt like she was
floating. Then falling. Oh! She had wings. Frantically, she tried to fly, thinking quite irrationally that Harry
wouldn’t be able to help with this sort of flying.

“Look at her!” she heard Harry say with awe in his voice. She moved around to look in the mirror, although she had to
fly lower to see. She was a phoenix. She was about to change back, but realised that she was likely to fall to the
ground. She flew gracefully down to the floor and then changed back.

“A phoenix, Miss Granger!” said McGonagall in a rather excited voice. “It’s extremely rare to find a phoenix animagus.”

“I’m a phoenix? How? What? Why?” Her arms were aching from flying and she was panting quite heavily.

“I have no idea, Hermione. Phoenixes are highly loyal and loving, you know.”

“And at least you’re not something with its own enclosure at London Zoo,” said Sirius with a smirk.

“How are you Simba?” Hermione asked Harry with a grin. He laughed, although Ron seemed to not understand.

“And Shere Khan, over here,” she said to Ron, who still didn’t understand. “We’ll tell you later,” she told him.

“Well, I think any Death Eaters trying to fight you lot will have trouble,” said Sirius.

“We will continue your training,” said Professor McGonagall, recovered from the shock of seeing a lion, a tiger and a
phoenix in her classroom. “You must become used to the pain of transformation so that it is no longer an issue. And of
course, you must get used to moving around in your animagus form.”

“Oh, that’s a lot of fun!” said Sirius, running a hand through his newly blond hair. His eyes were gleaming with untold
mischief. McGonagall glared at him.

“What? It was!” he said, throwing her a charming smile. “This one time, me and Prongs...”

“Professor White, do you think that this is the time?” Professor McGonagall said firmly.

“Of course not. This is a lesson, and you should be in a learning frame of mind,” he said solemnly, winking at Harry.

“Indeed. Although I think that’s enough for today. You may go. If any of you continue feeling pain, go and see Madam
Pomfrey for muscle relaxants.”

“Yes Professor,” said Hermione. “Thank you.”

Then the lion, the tiger and the phoenix (oh my!) went in search of food.

***

The next day seemed very strange. It was just a normal day, but each of the three remembered being an animal the night
before. It was strange, and they didn’t know how they could concentrate on their lessons that day. But concentrate they
did, and after dinner as always, they headed off to another lesson. On this particular day, they were researching more
on shamans with Maura and Professor Binns, who was quite annoyed at being dragged out of his usual schedule, although he
delighted in teaching even more.

“So, what animals are you?” asked Maura. As a non-magical person, she found the whole idea of transfiguring in an actual
animal absolutely astounding and fascinating.

“Ron’s a Bengal tiger, and he’s huge,” said Hermione. “I’m a phoenix and Harry’s a great big lion.”

Maura nearly choked on the pumpkin juice she was drinking.

“A lion? An actual lion, with a mane and a roar and everything?”

“Yes,” said Harry, caught between pride and a little embarrassment. “I wish I was something a little bit more normal.”

“None of us are normal animagi, Harry, you’re not the only one.”

“What are phoenixes like?” asked Maura. “That one Dumbledore has seems just like a normal bird to me.”

“Oh, phoenix song is one of the most beautiful things in the world,” said Hermione knowledgeably. “Phoenix tears heal
pretty much anything, and they can carry huge weights with their tails.”

“Does that mean you’ll burst into flames and stuff?” Maura asked Hermione.

“I have no idea.”

They worked a little while longer, and just as they were thinking that they could go on no longer, Professor Dumbledore
came in.

“I apologise for interrupting, Professor Binns,” he said in his usual understated manner. “But I need to speak to Miss
Granger.”

“Of course, Professor,” said Binns in his monotonous voice. Hermione put her things back in her bag and followed the
Headmaster out of the room.

***

Wordlessly, Hermione followed Professor Dumbledore down the corridor, but instead of going to his office, they went in
the direction of the Order Chamber. Indeed, Dumbledore opened the door and led her down the stone steps into the now
empty chamber. The torches flared to life as they went inside, illuminating the room.

“Do sit down, Miss Granger,” he said with a reassuring smile. She sat down in the seat she’d been given at the ceremony.

“I am told that your animagus form is that of a phoenix,” he began.

“Yes Professor.”

“Interesting. It is incredibly rare, you know.”

“Professor McGonagall told me yesterday.”

“The phoenix is one of the most beautiful, fascinating creatures in the world, magical or not. As you know, I have a
special fondness for them.”

“Yes Professor,” she said, thinking of Fawkes.

“Do you know how many recorded instances there are of phoenix animagi?”

“No,” she said.

“In the last two thousand years, there have been only three. You are the fourth.”

Dumbledore paused for a very long moment.

“Did you notice that the robe you were given when you joined the order was the same colour as the tapestry here?” he
asked her.

“I did notice, yes. Is there a significance?”

“You also know that you are descended from some of the greatest druids and philosophers of the Celtic race?” Dumbledore
answered her question with a question.

“Yes.”

“When you were inducted, I told you that this was the Round Table of legend. What I did not tell you was the identity of
the first person to sit in your place,” Dumbledore said. “There was a druid named Ruairi. He was quite probably the
greatest of the druids from Ireland. He was the High Priest of all Connaught during the time of Queen Maeve and he was
revered not only by the Celts of Ireland, but of all Britain as well.”

“But that was a thousand years before Hogwarts was founded. How can he have been one of the first?” she asked.

“Ah, the Order is much older than Hogwarts. It was founded by druids here in Britain at the same time a baby was born in
Bethlehem who would change the world,” he paused for a moment.

“The Order was founded at Stonehenge, you know. Ruairi was invited to join the Order. He was the most powerful druid of
the time and a truly good man. It was he who gave the Order its name. He was one of the first animagi of the time and
the form he took was that of a phoenix. He was the first head of the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Oh. What does this have to do with me?”

“You are not just descended from druids. You are descended from Ruairi.”

Hermione’s eyes goggled slightly. She, Muggle-born Hermione Granger was the descendant of the greatest druid of all
time?

“Of course, the phoenix would not have chosen you if you did not possess the qualities deserving of it. But the three
phoenix animagi, including yourself, that have come after him have all been descended from him.”

“You said he was the first head of the Order, Professor. Why isn’t there such a thing now?”

“Power corrupts, Miss Granger,” he started.

“And absolute power corrupts absolutely,” she finished.

“Yes. Although Ruairi was equipped with the gifts and character needed for such a position, others who followed him were
not. Salazar Slytherin was the last head of the Order.”

“Slytherin?”

“Yes. You will find, Miss Granger, that all history, no matter how diverse it seems, is woven together in strange and
wonderful ways.”

“Who were the other phoenix animagi, Professor?”

“Ah. One was Rowena Ravenclaw, although a cursory study of genealogy shows that you and she are in different branches of
Ruairi’s family tree.”

“But the Ravenclaw emblem is an eagle.”

“Yes it is. She did not exactly publicise her gift, Miss Granger. There are people in the world who would try and take
advantage of such things.”

“Oh. Of course.”

“The third, Miss Granger, was a woman by the name of Kathleen MacLennon,” he said gently.

“What?” Hermione looked completely shocked and nearly fell off her chair. She knew that name. That was her
great-grandmother’s name. Dumbledore smiled at her.

“I’m sure this comes as a shock to you,” he said.

“No. Well, it’s a shock I suppose, but it does make a lot of things make more sense,” she said. “My great-grandmother
lived to be a hundred years old. She was a witch wasn’t she? That’s why she lived so long."

“Yes. Do you remember when she died, Hermione?”

“Not very well. I was eight.”

“She was more than a hundred years old. She was older than me. She spent a great deal of time fudging her birth date so
that nobody would realise that she was over one hundred and fifty years old.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Did you meet her?”

“I did. She was a member of the Order. And she sat in your chair.”

“Oh,” Hermione’s eyes goggled for the second time that evening. “Why did she live as a Muggle?”

“Her phoenix nature was revealed to Grindelwald. He attempted to kidnap her and use her powers for his own gain. So in
1932, she left the wizard world behind almost completely. She remained in the Order until she died, but she was no
longer an active member. By the time we vanquished Grindelwald, she had made a life for herself in the Muggle world.”

“Didn’t you ask her to return?”

“Yes, we did. But that was her choice. She had fallen in love, as people are sometimes lucky enough to do.”

Hermione sighed quietly, sadly at this point. Yes, some people are that lucky, she thought.

“She wanted to stay with her new family. Kitty had a daughter by the time we regained contact, you know. I remember
getting a very happy letter from her in the thirties telling me about her new daughter. A ray of sunshine for us all in
a dark time.”

“My grandmother?”

“Yes.”

“Did my great-grandmother... Did Granny Kitty know I was magical?” she asked him. Dumbledore smiled and nodded.

“As soon as you were born, she procured an owl and wrote to me. She sensed it, you know. Kitty’s strengths were empathic
in nature. Of course, by then, Voldemort was gaining more and more power and she refused to allow you into the wizard
world until it came time for you to start at Hogwarts. I don‘t believe she even told your parents until much later.”

“Oh,” Hermione felt rather like she might cry very soon.

“The world works in very mysterious ways, Hermione. Do you remember what I said to Harry after the Sirius incident in
your third year? About that stag patronus,” he asked her.

“You said that Prongs rode again. That the dead never leave us.”

“Yes. You have a fine memory.”

“It was a strange night, Professor. I remember it well.”

“I’m sure you do,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “The dead never truly leave us, Hermione. That is why, two
thousand years later, Ruairi lives on in some form in you, why Kitty lives on in you too. That is why Harry’s patronus
is a stag. You should be comforted to know that Kitty lived to know that you would come to Hogwarts. She lived long
enough to see Voldemort defeated by Harry. She knew you would come here during a time of relative safety. And I deeply
suspect that she knew what powerful magic you would have.”

“What about Harry? And Ron? And Maura?” Hermione's mind was swimming with questions.

“Ahh,” Dumbledore paused to think for a moment. “Don’t you think it quite a coincidence that the descendants of the
druids, the warriors and the shamans are all together now, just as war comes to us? The world works in mysterious ways,
Hermione. We can only play our part as best we can. And the four of you have major parts to play.”

“Well, I’ll... I’ll try not to let you down, Professor,” said Hermione, quite overwhelmed by everything. “Are there any
books about Ruairi in the library?”

Dumbledore laughed quite heartily and she couldn’t help but join in.

“I believe Harry was right about you,” he said. Hermione’s smile disappeared.

“What did he say?”

“That you were the most intelligent witch in the school.”

“Oh. I just read a lot.”

“A lot of people read, Hermione. Not everyone takes it in or understands what they read.”

“Thank you Professor,” she said. “I think I’ll go to the library.”

“I thought you might. And you should find references to Ruairi and those who followed him in this book...” he paused to
write on a sheet of paper. “It’s in the restricted section,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she said again, before heading up the stairs, wondering exactly what she would find.

***

To be continued...

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the reviews I’ve received so far- I appreciate each and every one although I don’t have
time to reply to you all individually.

One small point: Most of the mythology used so far is as real as mythology can be considered to be. But parts of the
mythology in this chapter are made up by me to blend in with the real stuff. And next chapter, I'll tell you what! So
sit back and enjoy.

Thanks as always to Dan for the beta work.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

7. Feathers & Frolicking Tigers

Chapter Summary: In this chapter Hermione learns the downside to history and destiny, our new animagi get to stretch
their legs/wings and a new guest arrives at the castle. But how welcome are they and what will the consequences be?

*

Chapter Seven- Feathers & Frolicking Tigers

Ron was feeling quite philosophical that evening. He and Harry had given up on research quite quickly and had gone back
to the common room. It had been quite crowded and so they went outside to take advantage of the slightly improving
weather.

“Full moon tonight,” Harry said, looking up into the sky. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he heard a sad
howl from somewhere in the distance.

“Where’s Remus?” Ron asked him.

“At home. Sirius left this afternoon to join him.”

“Hermione’s taking a while. Wonder what Dumbledore wanted.”

“No idea,” said Harry. “Probably something to do with being a phoenix. You know how much he loves phoenixes.”

“Yeah. Bit like Hagrid and dragons.”

“Except that phoenixes burst into flames, they don’t breathe them.”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if Hermione did that?” asked Ron.

“I think the word you’re looking for is weird, Ron.”

“Yeah.” Ron paused and thought deeply for a moment. “Don’t you think it’s strange that all these elements are coming
together now? It’s as if there’s a big cosmic plan which says that the war against Voldemort is scheduled to take place
on a specific date, and the pieces are being moved into place in preparation for it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“Well, I mean, we didn’t know Maura even existed until last term, then she randomly shows up. Then we get told we’re all
descended from these people. I mean, when did I ever show much promise in Divination until I suddenly find out I’m a
shaman? Not Ginny, not Bill or Fred, but me.”

“I think it’s called effort Ron, and you never put any in before,” Harry joked.

“There is that,” Ron said quickly, “but there’s other things too. I just get this feeling... Like everything’s moving
into place and we’re all a part of it. Like everything is happening for a reason.”

“OK. Well... Been in any good trances lately?”

“Not really since the Guardians were here. I’m new at this lark and I don’t trust Trelawney. I might never get out of
it. You know some shamans went into such deep trances they never came out? They stayed like that until they died.
Sometimes they were killed.”

“Why?”

“People were scared, I suppose. Scared of the unknown.”

“You’re very philosophical this evening Ronald,” said Harry with an ill-concealed smirk. Ron returned it.

“It’s the shaman in me. We’re by nature quite a deep-thinking bunch. Unlike you plunge-in head-first-ask-questions-later
warrior sorts.”

“Hey!”

“I’m not knocking it, Harry. I mean, have you ever heard of shamans winning wars? That’s your department. Don’t you see
what I mean? We’ve got the combination to win the war and it’s all come together pretty quickly. As if someone is
deciding everything.”

“You believe in God, Ron?”

“I guess so. I mean, who created magic in the first place? Who gave it to wizards and who decides who gets it and who
doesn’t...”

“OK Ron!” Harry exclaimed. “You’re starting to scare me now. Can I have my Quidditch-obsessed best friend back please?”

Ron grinned.

“Got a bit intense, did I?” he asked. “I’ve just been thinking about this stuff more and more lately.”

“Me too. I worry...”

“I know, mate, I know. But the way I see it, the sooner we get on with it, the sooner everyone can get on with their
lives. And maybe we’ll have enough time to cram for our NEWTs.”

Harry laughed. Somehow, Ron always managed to make the most dire of situations amusing.

***

Hermione was not yet back when they decided to head back inside. According to Parvati, Hermione hadn’t returned to the
tower since leaving with them after dinner. Had it been anyone else, they might not have panicked. But Harry and Ron
still recalled her kidnapping a few months earlier with quite painful clarity, and so they shot off to find the
Marauder’s Map.

“Hang on!” Harry said, smacking himself in the forehead. “Didn’t we give it to Hermione at lunch to look after?”

“Yes.”

“Well, we’ll just have to look for her the hard way. Now, if we were Hermione, where would we be?” Harry asked.

“Library,” they said together, shooting off in the direction of the library.

Sometimes, Harry liked Hermione’s predictability when it came to studying. As they shot around the corner and into the
library (earning glares from Madam Pince), the common sight of Hermione’s head bent over a book was a welcome, relieving
sight.

“Hermione! Have you been here all this time?” asked Harry with concern. She looked up, quite surprised to see them
there, as if she hadn’t even heard them come into the library.

“Oh, I had to speak to Dumbledore. Then I came here. Were you worried?”

“No,” said Ron in a quite sarcastic tone. “We just guessed you’d been kidnapped again.”

Hermione actually looked like she might cry. Harry and Ron both pulled up chairs and shared concerned looks.

“What’s the matter, Hermione?” asked Harry. She quickly explained what Dumbledore had revealed to her earlier.

“Wow,” said Ron. “You’ve got as much history as Harry and Maura.”

“Yes,” she said, her lip trembling. “Isn’t it lovely?”

Harry looked at her, his green eyes meeting her brown eyes.

“What is it?” he asked softly. For a moment, Hermione forgot Ron was even there and just allowed herself to drown in
green. But she then remembered the things he’d said and broke the stare.

“It’s nothing. Nothing,” she said quietly. Then she shut the book and tucked it under her arm. “We really should get
back to the tower.”

Before either could protest, she was out of the door and all they could do was follow.

***

It had been quite some time since Harry had serious problems getting to sleep. But it was now three in the morning, and
he was still wide-awake. He slid out of bed, trying to be quiet enough not to wake the others up. He shoved his glasses
on and fumbled around for a moment before finding his thick scarlet and gold dressing gown. Once wrapped up, he headed
out of the room and down to the common room.

He hadn’t expected to see anyone else down there, but at the same time, he was not surprised to see Hermione there. What
was surprising, however, was what she was doing. When Hermione couldn’t get to sleep, she came down here to read-
everyone in Gryffindor from her roommates and best friends to the littlest of First years knew that. But tonight (or
this morning, depending on your point of view) she was simply sitting staring into the fire.

“Hermione?” he whispered. Startled, Hermione jumped about a foot in the air.

“Harry? What are you doing up?” she asked, recovering quickly.

“Couldn’t sleep. What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I can’t sleep either.”

“I can see that. But the day Hermione Granger chooses to stare into space instead of read is the day the earth spins in
the other direction.”

“Maybe I’ve had enough reading,” she said shortly. Harry sat down beside her, ignoring the fact that this was the
closest he’d been to her for some time. Now he was just concerned about his best friend.

“What happened with Dumbledore?”

“I told you.”

“OK. What happened after that?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. It’s probably just a hormonal imbalance resulting from my menstrual cycle.”

“Don’t try and put me off with menstrual stuff,” he said, going slightly green just the same.

She sighed haltingly, and he realised she was close to tears again. Without needing to think about it, his arms went
around her and he hugged her tightly. After a minute like that, Hermione pulled away. She reached for the book she’d
been reading in the library and handed it to him wordlessly. She’d marked several pages, and he opened it to the first
mark.

“Nuala Mac Fiann, granddaughter of the great and wise Ruairi, founder of the Order of the Phoenix and High Priest of the
Connaught kingdom....” Harry skipped through the list of Ruairi’s achievements, “was found guilty of treason and murder
against her people...” Now he read Nuala Mac Fiann’s list of achievements, or more accurately, crimes. Whoever she had
been, she sounded highly undesirable. Harry looked up at Hermione briefly, but she was back to staring into space. He
went onto the second page she’d marked.

“In 1621, Liam Fitzgerald of County Sligo was found guilty of killing fifteen young women in a ritual sacrifice. It is
not clear what the ritual entailed, but it is believed he was attempting to harness magical power...” Harry trailed off
there, already getting the gist of what was troubling Hermione. But then he moved to the final page she’d marked.

“James MacLennon of County Londonderry was, in 1841, thwarted in his attempts to take over Belfast through use of magic.
After killing fifteen young women in the same ritual sacrifice that another descendant of the great Ruairi attempted
some 200 years previously, MacLennon destroyed a section of Belfast before being brought down by members of the famed
Order of the Phoenix. Members of his family were found to know nothing of his plans and were allowed to leave
Ireland...”

Harry looked at her with concern.

“Hermione?”

“What’s to say that I don’t end up like them? Ritual human sacrifices? Destroying cities?” she asked in a quiet,
terrified voice.

“You don’t have an evil bone in your body, Hermione!” he exclaimed. She laughed harshly.

“Of course I do, Harry. Don’t be so naive. Everyone has the potential for good or bad. Otherwise we’d be angels.”

“Yes, that’s true. But Hermione, you’re not evil. You don’t even like being mean to Malfoy!”

“I know that, but if you read more of this book, which is all about Ruairi’s descendants by the way, you’d learn that
even more of them turned bad. They didn’t start off bad. But when they started using their powers, they got corrupted.
They got addicted to the power they possessed.”

“I have a question,” he said. “How many descendants of Ruairi have there been in the last two thousand years?”

“Well, according to the book, he fathered nine children who lived to adulthood. They each had a number of children...
There’s quite a few. They spread out all over Ireland and Britain and beyond.”

“Are you telling me that each one of them turned bad?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Earlier, you said Rowena Ravenclaw was one, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Should I go and wake up the Ravenclaws and tell them that their founder went evil?”

“No. She didn’t.”

“And your great-grandmother?”

“No.”

“What about some of the others?”

“Well... There was a woman during the witch-hunts who hid a lot of innocent witches and wizards from the mobs...”

“Any more?”

“One of Ruairi’s sons was renowned for healing people just by touching them.”

“And?”

“I can’t think of any more. I haven’t read the whole book yet.”

“Hermione, there are bad apples in every... basket? I always forget the whole phrase.” Harry smiled a little sheepishly.
Hermione nodded.

“I know what you mean.”

“Well there are. I mean, look at my mum and my Aunt Petunia. Both from the same gene pool, both very different. And I
don’t just mean the magic thing.”

“That’s true.”

“There’s good and bad in every family, Hermione. Those few were pretty bad, it’s true. But that’s because they were
weak.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that being good is hard. Being bad is a whole lot easier.”

“We must choose between what is right and what is easy,” Hermione recalled.

“Exactly. And I don’t know anyone stronger than you,” he told her. “You’re good Hermione, you’re good and strong and
you’re like Ruairi and your great-grandmother. Not like those weak-willed people who had their heads turned by power.
Power isn’t everything. Blood isn’t everything. You’re descended from this fantastic Ruairi bloke it’s true, but you
earned your place in the Order. You. Not because you’re related to him but because you deserve it.”

Harry paused for breath, taken aback by his own speech-making. Hermione sniffed.

“You must think I’m so stupid,” she mumbled.

“No I don’t,” he said, hugging her again, trying not to notice that her hair smelled of raspberries and that his heart
had started racing. “You couldn’t be stupid even if you tried. Everyone has doubts, you know. Even the great Hermione
Granger.”

“I suppose.”

“Will you do something for me?” he asked. She now looked suspiciously at him.

“What?”

“Get some sleep. You look terrible.”

“Oh thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, you get to miss Arithmancy tomorrow so we can practice transfiguring in daylight. Remember?”

“Yes,” she said, mustering a smile.

“That’s another thing,” he said, remembering more of their earlier conversations. “The phoenix wouldn’t have chosen you
if you weren’t good, would it? Did it choose any of those bad guys?”

“No,” she admitted, feeling quite a lot better now. She managed a smile for him. “Night Harry. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome of course. Sweet dreams.”

***

The three new animagi were quite eager to get to their transfiguration lesson the next morning. They each wolfed down
their breakfasts, despite Hermione’s concerns that they’d get terrible indigestion. They then followed Professor
McGonagall down the transfiguration corridor, way past anywhere they’d gone before. She opened a door and they followed
her through.

“Where are we, Professor?” the ever-curious Hermione asked.

“Staff quarters, Miss Granger,” she replied shortly. The three looked around curiously, but the corridor seemed like
just any other corridor in the school. She led them right down to the end of the corridor and opened another door. This
door, however, led outside.

It was unlike anything they’d ever seen at Hogwarts in the last seven years. In fact, all three of them were certain
that these were the most beautiful gardens they’d ever seen. The garden was a quadrangle within the castle, and Harry
suspected that all the windows overlooking the garden from all sides were staff quarters, because he’d never looked out
of a window in the school and seen this. It was quite a large garden, considering it was nestled within the castle. It
was filled with beautiful, colourful plants of all descriptions, some magical, some not. The lawn was perfectly
manicured and springy underfoot.

“This is Professor Sprout’s pride and joy,” said McGonagall. “She took it on after the previous Herbology teacher
retired and she spends all her spare time here. None of the windows are of classrooms, so we are quite safe from
intrusion here.”

“But what if...” Ron looked quite concerned now. “What if we break the plants? I mean, I’m a tiger. I bet they do a lot
of damage to roses.”

“We won’t be gambolling about like sheep, Mr Weasley,” said the Professor. Ron actually looked a little disappointed.

“Is Sirius joining us?” asked Harry. McGonagall shook her head.

“Professor White has a duelling lesson to teach. Now, I want you to transfigure in a moment. Try and hold your form as
long as you can.”

The three each did so, a lion, a tiger and a phoenix replacing the three seventeen year old students. Ron was the first
to resume his human form, followed by Harry. Hermione was able to hold her form for a few more minutes, before slumping
onto the floor. They looked impressed.

“Honestly,” she said, standing up with help from Ron. “What do you think us girls go through each month? This is
nothing.”

Professor McGonagall nodded in understanding while the two boys looked horrified, their eyes full of newfound
appreciation and admiration for the alleged weaker sex. They repeated the transformation again and again, until the
three found themselves overcoming the pain as if it were just another Imperious curse to rise above. After about half an
hour, they were up to moving about. Anyone looking out onto the garden that morning would have been surprised to see a
lion sniffing the blue roses appreciatively, a tiger rolling around in the soft grass and a phoenix perched at the top
of the highest tree.

“You’ve all done very well,” McGonagall said as it was time to leave. “We will meet on Thursday evening and go out into
the grounds. It should allow you to stretch your legs. Or wings, as the case maybe.”

“Thank you Professor,” Harry said as they headed back into the school.

“Oh and don’t bother trying to find the garden again. We teachers value our privacy too dearly,” she said, a twinkle in
her eye.

***

“Harry, do you have your copy of Fantastic Beasts with you?” Hermione asked as they settled down in History of Magic.

“Somewhere,” he said, rifling through his bag. He pulled out a very worn copy of Newt Scamander’s life work Fantastic
Beasts and Where to Find Them.

“Thanks,” she said with a tiny smile.

As Professor Binns began his hourly drone, she opened the book and began reading. Both Harry and Ron were scandalised.
Hermione always listened in class, even in this most boring of classes. They all attempted to pay attention to Binns,
but as Dean Thomas’ head fell onto his desk, so too did Harry Potter’s attention wane. He instead found himself
captivated by the girl sitting next to him, despite his attempts to focus on anything else. She was leafing idly through
the book as if she had something specific in mind but wasn’t hurrying to it. Hermione-watching was far more interesting
than goblins and Oddballs, he thought. He rested his head on his arms and feigned sleep so he could watch her unnoticed.
He watched as she did all those things so quintessentially Hermione: lip biting, eyebrow furrowing and everything else.
He watched as her brown eyes darted from word to word, page to page.

Then he suddenly remembered a Care of Magical Creatures lesson sometime in October. He had been listening to Hagrid’s
excited lecture on dragons, and had been idly doodling across the page as he was wont to do. He watched nervously as
Hermione flicked through the book, past Clabberts and Crups... There it was, just above the listing for Romanian
Longhorn: I LOVE HERMIONE. He’d clearly spent quite some time on it too, for the letters were all quite exact and
well-written. He’d forgotten about it until now. Still pretending to be asleep, he watched for her reaction.

She blinked once and turned the page. Either she didn’t notice, which would’ve been hard considering how large he’d
written it, or she chose to simply ignore it. But he did notice that she suddenly stopped idly flicking through and
headed purposely to the page she required. He wasn’t surprised to see her stop at the listing for Phoenix and begin
making notes about it.

“Potter!” Binns suddenly called. “Your thoughts on the 17th Century Witch burnings?”

“Uh....” Harry sat up straight and realised everyone was looking his way, hoping for an answer. He hadn’t done the
reading and so had no idea what he was meant to be saying.

“Well, Professor... They were born out of fear and paranoia from Muggles. They had no idea what was really going on
because the magical and Muggle worlds had been separate for so long... Uh... I think a few Muggles in power used that
fear to prey on less powerful Muggles and the... Um... burnings say more about the Muggle state of affairs at the time
than the magical state of affairs...”

There then followed an uneasy silence as he wondered if he’d make a complete arse of himself or if he’d somehow stumbled
onto the right answer.

“Quite right Potter!” said Binns happily. “Clearly some of us have done the reading!”

Hermione looked up from the book with a slightly amused ‘no you didn’t’ expression, before turning back to the page she
was so engrossed in.

***

Hermione was quieter than usual that evening, to the point that even Sirius and Maura were asking what was wrong. She
duelled without enthusiasm or interest of any sort, and Harry and Ron would’ve confronted her about it had they not been
interrupted.

It had started off quite simply with Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin turning up during the duelling lesson to speak
to Sirius. This in itself was not unusual- Sirius was often summoned away somewhere for one reason or another. But this
time was unusual. With Dumbledore and Remus was Narcissa Malfoy. Sirius listened to Remus’ quiet whispers with a look of
horror, then he, Remus and Narcissa went off down the hall. He didn’t even pause to look back at his students.
Dumbledore looked solemnly at Maura.

“Miss Kennealy, you can be sure that Lucius Malfoy does not know your identity.”

“What?”

“The two he mentioned in the kidnap were Harry and Ron. Mrs Malfoy has kept your secret well.”

“What did he do to her?” asked Harry in a voice full of quiet fury.

“Mrs Malfoy has come here for protection. She will be safe here,” said Dumbledore, neatly sidestepping the question.
Then he too left the room. The four of them exchanged worried looks.

“She took a beating or two to keep your identity secret,” Harry guessed. Maura looked mortified.

“For me?”

“Looks that way.”

“There’s probably other stuff to it,” added Ron. “I mean, I bet she wasn’t thrilled to hear old Lucius’ plans to make
his son a Death Eater.”

“I can’t imagine that Lucius was ever very kind to her. This may have been her excuse to get out at last,” finished
Hermione sadly. “But I think we’re probably done here.”

“Good,” said Harry quietly. “I want to go to the library.”

“I’ll come,” offered Ron, but Harry shook his head.

“No, I’ll be fine.” He then shot out of the room. Ron and Hermione shared a worried look.

“What’s the matter with him?” he asked. “Come to think of it, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” said Hermione, immediately on the defensive.

“Yeah right,” snorted Ron. “Do me a favour will you? Whatever’s going on or not going on with you and Harry, sort it
out. I’m getting tired of all these mood swings the both of you are having.”

Hermione looked as if she’d just been slapped. Tears brimmed at the edges of her eyes.

“It’s not my fault, Ron,” she whispered before bolting out of the room. Maura cocked an eyebrow at Ron.

“Well Ron, I never thought I’d say this, but that was even more cack-handed than I would’ve managed.”

“I didn’t mean... Oh bloody Hell! They’re driving me crazy,” he said with a frustrated sigh.

“They’re driving everyone crazy,” Maura said. “They’ll battle it out soon enough.”

“No they won’t,” he predicted. “I know them. They’ll both bottle it up and do nothing.”

***

Doing nothing had been Hermione’s plan at first, but when she found herself in the library, she decided to throw caution
to the wind and confront Harry. He was sitting at their usual table, huddled over a book. When she got close enough, she
realised he was reading about lions.

“Hello Harry,” she said, sitting opposite him. He grunted a reply before beginning to write feverish notes on a sheet of
parchment.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked.

“Not right now, I’m busy,” he mumbled. She sighed.

“Don’t bother trying to drown your sorrows in work. It doesn’t work. I speak from experience,” she told him. He made no
response, instead he kept writing furiously. She sat silently for a moment watching him.

“I know why you did it, you know.”

Harry looked up.

“Did what?” he asked cautiously, not wanting to know the answer.

“I know why you broke up with me,” she said. His eyes widened for second, but his poker face was back in place quickly.

“I told you why,” he said quietly.

“Oh I know the reason you gave me. I also know why you really did it,” she said. He had resumed writing and she was now
beginning to get irritated with him.

“Harry, are you listening to me?” she demanded. He kept on writing. She grabbed his quill out of his hand, but his grip
was tight. It snapped with a sickening crack. It was the quill she’d bought a year ago for his birthday- a rare eagle
feather with a gold nib. It had been a replacement for the one before, which she’d also bought him. He treasured the
quill and was rarely seen writing with anything else. Her eyes widened in horror.

“I’m sorry, Harry! I didn’t mean to... I’m sorry.”

The tumult of emotions Hermione had been dealing with all day now overcame her. Just as she’d bolted from Ron and Maura,
now she ran away from Harry.

***

He sighed very heavily once she was out of the room. Did she really know? Was he really that obvious? Did she hate him
for it? Why had she just run out? A million and one questions all jostled for pole position in his head, and he had no
idea where to begin. Added to that, Hermione had just broken his quill, so he couldn’t finish the notes he’d been
writing about lions. He’d got the idea from her of course, and had wanted to strike while he was inspired enough. Unlike
the phoenix, which was a magical creature, much of the information on lions wasn’t much use- he didn’t need to know how
lions lived alongside other lions, because he didn’t intend to live anywhere near any real lions unless he bought a
house overlooking London Zoo. For the same reason, he had no desire to know how they killed their prey and ate the meat
raw. So with a heavy sigh, he gave up and went to the common room.

Ron was there, challenging one of the Fifth Years to a game of chess. Every Gryffindor bar Hermione was in the common
room.

“Hey Harry, how are you?” Colin Creevey was at his shoulder.

“Hi Colin,” he said blandly. “Seen Hermione?”

“No, sorry. Are you ready for the Hufflepuff game next week?”

Harry had, for once, forgotten all about Quidditch.

“Oh, yeah,” he said distractedly. “Ready as ever.”

“That’s great,” started Colin. But before he could continue, Harry was off talking to Ginny.

“Ginny, have you seen Hermione?”

“Saw her disappear up to the dorms about five minutes ago. Everything OK, Harry?” she asked.

“Oh, fine.”

“I know something’s going on, you know,” she said. “You all keep disappearing and missing classes. And that mysterious
girl...”

“I don’t have time to talk now Gin, I’m sorry,” he said apologetically before heading up to his own dorm. It was
deserted- everyone was down in the common room. He flopped onto his bed and sighed.

Every day since he had broken up with Hermione had been harder than the day before. The dull ache hadn’t ebbed away with
time as he’d hoped. Instead, he just seemed to feel worse. He supposed it didn’t help that he had to pretend to be just
friends with her when all he really wanted to was take her in his arms and not let go ever again. He had hoped in a way
that she would hate him, because that would make it easier to deal with. Instead, Hermione had taken it with dignity and
had determinedly stayed his best friend.

Then after about twenty-five minutes brooding, there came a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” he asked in a voice that, to him, sounded positively suicidal. The door opened, and in came Hermione.

“Hello,” she said. “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t handle myself very well. I seem to be all over the place lately.”

“It’s all right Hermione, honestly,” he managed, sitting up. She hovered uncertainly by the door for a moment before
moving over to him.

“I um... Got you something,” she said, holding out a brand new quill. It was a bright scarlet feather, with the
slightest hint of purple at the end of the feather. The nib was a finely crafted gold specimen made in London by
Monkthorpe & Sons Quillmakers (Since AD 1123)- the kind his eagle feather quill had.

“What?”

“Well, I broke your other one, and I know how much you liked it. So... this is its replacement.”

“Where did you get this from?” he asked incredulously, examining the bright, beautiful feather.

“It’s a, uh, phoenix feather.”

“A phoenix?” he asked. She nodded. His eyes widened as he considered this further. Unless she’d just gone and plucked a
feather from Fawkes, there was only one place this could have come from.

“Hermione...”

“Don’t Hermione me,” she said. “It didn’t hurt, and it was a spare nib I had. It’s the least I could do.”

“No Hermione, the least would be getting me a normal quill. This is above and beyond... It’s beautiful.”

“I know you like phoenixes,” she said. “And nobody else in the world has a quill like this. See the purple at the end?
That’s how you can tell a phoenix animagus from a real phoenix. Only phoenix animagi have the purple at the tips of
their feathers.”

“I wondered what was different when I saw you transform,” he said. “Are you sure it didn’t hurt?”

“It was quite hard at first to try and get it, not being used to having a beak, but it didn’t hurt,” she said with a
smile.

“Thank you. It really is beautiful.”

“That wasn’t all I came to do,” she paused. “I meant what I said earlier, about knowing why. But what I should’ve added
was that I understand. I understand why you did it. I personally would’ve gone with the straightforward truth, but I
forgive you.”

“Hermione...”

“No, it’s OK,” she insisted. She leaned down and kissed him gently on the cheek. Then she turned to leave. As she got to
the door, he spoke.

“I do love you, Hermione.”

“I know.” Then she was gone.

***

The atmosphere the next day was a strange one. Ron was worried that he’d really gone too far with Hermione, Harry was
wondering just exactly how Hermione felt and Hermione herself was wondering what had got into her lately.

Just as they thought it couldn’t become a stranger day, Draco Malfoy sat down at the Gryffindor table at dinner’s end.

“Malfoy!” called Ginny sharply. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

“I’m not here out of choice, Weasley,” he said acidly. “I need to speak to Potter. Do you have a problem with that?”

“What’s the matter, Malfoy?” asked Harry before a full-scale war could erupt.

“I need to speak to you,”

“Yes, you said that. Care to be more specific?”

“Well, I didn’t intend to speak to you here in front of everyone.”

“Is it embarrassing, Malfoy?” put in Seamus.

“You’d hope so,” added Dean. Draco merely glared at them, but it was the sort of glare that makes lesser men crumble.

“Fine,” said Harry, increasingly concerned about the possibility of bloodshed. He got up and followed Draco out of the
Great Hall and into a quiet corner of the Entrance Hall.

“Is this about your mum?” asked Harry.

“How did you know?” demanded Draco angrily.

“I was there when she arrived. So were Ron and Hermione.”

“Oh. Did anyone else see?” he asked. Every shred of sarcastic arrogance Draco had ever summoned was gone now, replaced
by raw fear. Harry was surprised to realise that it was not fear for Draco himself but for his mother.

“I don’t think so. Maura was there too... Dumbledore came to get Sirius and they took her somewhere. I don’t know
where.”

“Oh.”

“What happened, Draco?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her yet. My father sent about fifty owls this morning demanding to know if she’d sent
word.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, yet. When I asked, Professor Snape told me that my mother saw Dumbledore and that she was safe. But I don’t
know anything else. And frankly Potter, I’m at a loss for what to do.”

“Did you think of going to see Dumbledore about it?” asked Harry.

“No.”

“Well, it might be a good start.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, Potter.”

“Well, it is rather obvious,” said Harry, trying to stifle laughter.

“Wouldn’t you panic if it was your mum?” Draco snapped. Harry’s eyes darkened, but his voice remained calm.

“I wouldn’t know, Malfoy. It’s never been a problem for me.”

Then Harry turned and walked back into the Great Hall.

The conversation preyed on Harry’s mind for the rest of the evening for two reasons. Firstly, it had only served to
remind him what it was like to grow up without parents and secondly, he worried what Lucius Malfoy would do in response
to his wife’s disappearance. He found out soon enough, too.

***

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the reviews I’ve received so far- I appreciate each and every one although I don’t have
time to reply to you all individually.

As always, big thanks to Dan my fabulous beta and the passengers of the HMS Pumpkin Pie!

Mythology: As promised, I'll give you a quick run down of the mythology used. The Cattle Raid of Cooley and Queen Maeve
are genuine myths of the Irish Celts, although I made up the Heir thing myself. I created Ruairi and his descendants
myself. The name is borrowed from a short story I read a long time ago in a feminist collection I don't remember the
name of. I think that covers most of it. Any questions, just ask.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

8. Films & Old Friendships

Chapter Summary: Death Eaters are coming to Hogwarts, Harry gets given a gift from his parents, learns something about
himself and Draco, meets a baby, discovers a big hole in the Burrow and a plan is finally formulated to defeat
Voldemort.

*

Chapter Eight- Films and Old Friendships

At half past eight, every student and teacher was summoned into the Great Hall. Dumbledore looked unusually grave as he
summoned those squishy purple sleeping bags once more. Harry remembered all too well the last time- when Sirius got into
the school. This was serious. Even Maura had been summoned to the Hall.

“We have had reports that a group of Death Eaters plan to come to the school,” he said solemnly. At first, everyone
began chattering in panic, but Dumbledore silenced them simply by raising his hand.

“You do not need to be afraid. We have a group of Ministry aurors arriving and you have the protection of every Hogwarts
teacher here. For your own safety, you are to stay in the Great Hall tonight. I must ask you most seriously to remain in
here. As a rare treat, Professor Flitwick has charmed a Muggle video player so that you can watch a film until it is
time for bed.”

Dumbledore clapped his hands and a large screen unfurled, seemingly from midair.

“I suggest that you make yourselves comfortable for the night,” he finished. Then, he and the rest of the teachers began
marching swiftly out of the room.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Maura shared a look before dashing after Dumbledore.

“Professor!” Harry called. Dumbledore turned around, not looking in the least bit surprised.

“Harry, I thought you might come after us. But you are all to stay here. Understand?”

“But-”

“No. You are to stay here. Harry,” he said quietly “you’re going to be needed for much more important things soon. Stay
here.”

“Yes Professor,” he said, hanging his head slightly. Dumbledore nodded, then rejoined the teachers.

“Sirius!” Harry called. His godfather turned around. “Be careful, OK?”

‘Professor White’ grinned and nodded. Then all there was left to do for Harry and his friends, was to turn back and
return to the Great Hall.

***

“What film are we getting?” asked Ron.

“I’m hoping for some kind of action movie,” said Dean. “With Bruce Willis or Sylvester Stallone.”

“Ooh! I hope it’s Die Hard,” said Maura with a gleam in her eye. She had initially been particularly irritated by being
considered ‘a child’ and being forced to stay in the Castle, but she seemed excited by the prospect of lots of
terrorists with guns, one cop and a big tower.

Everyone who had lived in the Muggle world had their own opinion on what would be the best choice. Harry had only ever
seen things Dudley liked, that ultra-violent sort of film usually starring Steven Seagal or Jean-Claude Van Damme, but
he had no desire to see anything of the sort. Hermione was hoping for something old and black and white while Justin
Finch-Fletchley the Hufflepuff was rooting for something starring Barbra Streisand.

Madam Pomfrey came in with Dobby, Winky and several other House-Elves. They were each carrying large trays of food and
drink. Madam Pomfrey also had the film in question. She seemed quite unsure of what to do with it so Hermione, fully in
her Head Girl role, went and helped her. When she saw the title, she threw a smirk at the Gryffindors. She started it up
and soon enough, the title DOCTOR ZHIVAGO came up on the screen. For the benefit of the people around her, Hermione
explained what it was about. Groans filled the air as they realised that Dumbledore had saddled them with a thirty year
old epic about revolutionary Russia.

“I’ll bet it was because it’s old and quite dry,” Hermione whispered to Harry. “He didn’t want everyone getting all
agitated and excited over Die Hard, I’m sure.”

“Yeah. It’s boring, Hermione.”

“No it isn’t. Watch and learn.”

Perhaps it was the novelty of seeing a film at Hogwarts or it was the story, but by the halfway mark, everyone in the
room was riveted to the film. Hermione, who had seen it before, was humming the theme from the start, but by the time
came to sit through the intermission, everyone seemed to know the tune.

“All right, Hermione?” Harry whispered. “Want another biscuit?”

“No,” she replied, shifting in her chair to get comfortable. Without thinking, his arm went around her shoulders. She
paused for a second before leaning into him. Behind them, Maura nudged Ron. Ron looked over at them and smirked.

The film had the expected tranquilliser effect on most of the students, and by the end, most were either asleep or very
close to sleep. Harry and Hermione, on the other hand, were wide awake. As the credits rolled, she shifted in his arms
and, the illusion broken, they both became uncomfortable and self-conscious.

“Um.... Did you like the film?” she whispered to him, careful not to wake anyone around them.

“It was all right.”

“Good... good. Night then.”

“Yeah. I think I’ll wait up for Dumbledore.”

“Harry, go to sleep.”

“But I...”

“Harry!” she hissed sharply. “Get some sleep.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, sliding into his sleeping bag and allowing sleep to take him over.

***

The next morning, Harry awoke to the sound of excited chattering. The sun was shining brightly through the windows of
the Great Hall, drowning him in bright yellow light. In the next sleeping bag, Hermione was still asleep, a faint smile
on her lips as if she were in the middle of a quite pleasant dream.

“Harry!” Professor White came bounding over, his usual dazzling smile in place.

“Siri- Professor! Everything OK?”

“Just fine, Harry. Quite easy really. We managed to stop them even getting through the gates. Although they brought a
few playmates.”

“Like what?”

“Oh nothing big, just enough to keep us on our toes. A few trolls, a couple of other highly illegal magical creatures.
All enough to earn every captured Death Eater a nice long spell in Azkaban. Hope they give it my love.”

Sirius said this last part in a quiet, but deeply bitter voice.

“Lucius Malfoy?”

“Wasn’t there. No sign of the slimy blond git. Not surprised though. He knew he wouldn’t take Hogwarts. Probably just
wanted a sign that Narcissa was here. Which he didn’t get.”

“Is she here?” Harry whispered.

“I don’t know,” said Sirius. Harry nodded. Even if Sirius did know where she was, it was unfair of Harry to ask.
“Anyway, you missed training the last two nights. You’ll be with Professor McGonagall and myself this evening. Don’t
want you getting sloppy.”

“Yes Professor.”

***

Although Professor McGonagall had promised them space to roam, they found themselves back in that beautiful but small
teachers’ garden.

“Professor Dumbledore didn’t think it safe for you to be out in the grounds at the moment,” Sirius explained.

The lesson began, although they had progressed beyond lessons into what was really just getting used to their new forms.
Maura came along to watch, still quite enamoured with the idea that they could become animals. Sirius transformed with
them, and soon a spirited game of chase had begun between the dog and the lion. The phoenix seemed quite content to sit
in the highest tree, singing beautifully on occasion. The tiger joined in the chase occasionally, but seemed quite
concerned about crushing some of the plants.

“Are you Maura?” a soft voice asked. Maura spun around quickly, surprised. She came face to face with the clearly quite
weak Narcissa Malfoy. Her blonde hair was dull and she looked almost painfully thin.

“You’re Narcissa Malfoy, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I saw you when you arrived. Are you all right?”

“Yes. I am now. Are you... Are you Maura?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re the girl George wrote about,” she said, studying Maura closely.

“George wrote about me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Oh yes, George often wrote to me. After he joined you, he wrote several times. He said he’d fallen in love with a
beautiful girl.”

“Can’t have been me then.”

“He wrote one last time after you were married. Before the battle. I never... I never told Lucius about it and I hid the
letter. I knew who you were. My friend Lily was the Heir too. She died... a long time ago.”

“Harry told me.”

“I’m sure he did. But I never told Lucius what she was. I knew what Voldemort had done in killing Lily, and I knew that
you would one day come to avenge her death. A lot of people want to do it, you know.”

“I know. Harry-”

“And Sirius. And Remus. And everyone who ever knew Lily. She was a good-natured girl, full of love.”

“Sounds too good to be true,” said Maura. She winced slightly at the pain on Narcissa’s face. How she wished she wasn’t
so blunt and barbed all the time.

“She was too good to be true. But she.... Lily didn’t want to be perfect, she just was. She was too nice to hate. And
she had a nice line in self-deprecation.”

“You should talk to Harry,” said Maura.

“I know, I shall. Perhaps I’ll wait until he’s finished playing with Sirius. You would think spending twelve years in
Azkaban would make a man grow up. But I think Sirius will always be a little boy,” Narcissa sighed, the sigh of a woman
who has spent twenty years in a life she hates. “You have a little girl, don’t you?”

Maura looked up at Narcissa.

“Yes. Deirdre. She lives with George’s parents. Your family.”

“I wasn’t sure it was you at first. I was looking for Maura Richards, you see. When Professor Dumbledore told me that
your name was Maura Kennealy I thought I might have the wrong person.”

“I’ve never called myself Maura Richards.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t seem right. We were only married a week.”

“But you were still married. And he did love you. I know that much.”

At the other end of the gardens, the animagi had transformed and now several excited teens came bounding over with
Sirius.

“Narcissa, are you all right?” Sirius asked with concern. “Should you be out of bed?”

“I’m really fine, Sirius,” she said. “I’m not a child or an invalid, you know.”

“But still...”

“I’m fine. I was actually wondering if I could talk to Harry.”

“Me?” Harry looked both suspicious and curious.

“Yes. I have a couple of things that belonged to your mother.”

“Really?” Harry’s eyes lit up like Blackpool Tower at Christmas. Narcissa nodded.

“Well, we’ve finished the lesson,” said Sirius. “You’re free to go.”

Harry nodded and followed Narcissa back into the castle.

“Well, that leaves us free to get pie,” said Ron. “Who’s up for a trip to the kitchens?”

***

“Mum!” Draco leapt out of the chair he’d been sitting in as Narcissa and Harry entered her guest room deep inside the
Castle. “Where did you go?”

“Sit down, Draco. I only went to the gardens.”

“Anyone could have seen you!”

“No they couldn’t. Calm down Draco,” she said in a soothing tone that actually appeared to calm him down.

“What are you doing here Potter?” asked Draco with his characteristic sneer. “Don’t you have stray puppies to save?”

“What are you doing here, Malfoy? Don’t you have a dungeon to skulk around in?”

“Draco, Harry, I do wish you’d stop sniping at each other,” said Narcissa firmly. She opened a drawer and pulled out a
small leather bag. “Sit down, both of you.”

They complied and she opened the bag. She pulled out several photographs.

“After I was married to Lucius, I wasn’t allowed to see my old friends at all. But sometimes I managed to get out into
the real world.”

Narcissa sighed very sadly again. The first was of Narcissa and Lily. They were both smiling happily, two small bumps
where Draco and Harry were already beginning their lives.

“This was taken when I arranged to see them in London. We were in a Muggle restaurant, far from Lucius’ spies and
informants. But I think you’ll like this one best.”

Narcissa held up another picture. It was of two small boys, each about a year old. One had a shock of dark hair and
mischievous green eyes. The other had very blond hair and a charmingly cute smile. Anyone looking at the picture would
imagine the two to be the very best of friends.

Draco looked shocked and horrified. Harry looked faintly amused, if a little pale.

“What is that?” demanded Draco.

“This was taken the last time I saw Lily. We had managed to make a regular play-date for the two of you- I told Lucius
that I was visiting my family each time. The two of you were terribly good friends, you know.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Draco stubbornly.

“It’s true. After this, after James and Lily died, you missed Harry terribly. I had to quiet you down at home before
your father realised what was going on.”

“What does this have to do with anything anyway?” asked Draco, regaining some of his cool.

“I need you both to understand that you were once friends. I know you’re not fond of each other anymore, and I don’t
expect you can ever be friends like that again. But Dumbledore and I are both concerned that you trust each other.”

“Together we’re strong, divided we’re weak,” said Harry. Narcissa nodded.

“I loved your mother, Harry. She was the best friend I’ve ever known and when I was forced to leave my friends and marry
Lucius, it broke my heart.”

Draco reached over and took his mother’s hand. As he did so, Harry noticed that there was no longer a wedding ring on
her finger.

“We can work together,” Harry told her. Draco paused for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“Fine. But I still don’t like him.”

“I have one other thing, Harry,” said Narcissa. Reaching into the leather bag, she pulled out a ring. An emerald
surrounded by diamonds, set in gold. “She gave me this the last time I saw her.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“Her engagement ring.” Harry’s eyes goggled.

“Why?”

“I was never really sure. I think now that she understood what was going to happen to her. I’m sure that she was
determined to protect you. When she gave it to me, she told me that when I could, I was to give it to you. Seems like
this is as good a time as any.”

“Her engagement ring,” said Harry with awe. His father had given it to her.

“Did Sirius tell you how James proposed?” asked Narcissa. Harry shook his head. “It was really quite sweet. On our last
day of school, as we were all about to leave Gryffindor Tower, he called to her that she’d forgotten something. She
insisted that she hadn’t and then he threw the box over to her.”

“How romantic,” said Draco dryly. His mother shot him a look.

“I should go,” said Harry, getting up. “If you um... need anything?”

“Thank you, but between Sirius, Draco and Albus, I’m very well looked after,” said Narcissa with a smile.

***

When Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room, he found several crying First years being comforted by Hermione and
Ginny.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. Hermione looked up at him, her face deathly white.

“Death Eaters attacked some wizard families in Leeds,” Hermione said in a choked voice.

“Oh,” he managed. One of the First years, a boy Harry recognised as Andrew Henreid looked tearfully up at him.

“My Dad...” he said, trying valiantly not to cry. “My Dad is dead.”

Harry sat beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ll be all right,” he said, although personally doubting it.

“Will you...” Andrew sniffled. “Will you fight the baddies again, Harry? Like you always do?”

Harry felt tears pricking at the backs of his eyes as this young boy put all of his faith and hope into him. He nodded.

“That’s the plan, Andrew.”

Andrew managed a small smile. Hermione stood up and held out her hand to him.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Andrew?” she asked gently. He sniffed again and nodded. The little boy took her hand and
allowed her to lead him, and the other First years, up the stairs. Harry leaned back in his chair and groaned. War was
coming, really coming.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” demanded Ginny.

“I can’t tell you. And even if I could, I don’t think I would.”

“Why not? Why do you three all treat me like a little kid?”

“This is not the time, Ginny,” Harry said tiredly. “It’s not just you, it’s everyone.”

“Fine, I mean, it’s not like any of us could help,” she said in a maddened voice.

“What’s the matter?” asked Hermione as she came back into the common room.

“Nothing, nothing at all,” said Ginny, turning in her seat to face the fire.

“Where’s Ron?” asked Harry. “Didn’t he come back with you?”

“Yes. He went back out again. Kitchens, probably.”

The portrait swung open and Ron came sprinting in. His face was devoid of any colour at all and he looked panicked.

“Ron?” asked Hermione. “What’s the matter?”

“The...” Ron breathed deeply. “The Death Eaters have attacked the Burrow.”

***

It spoke of the workmanship involved in the construction of the Burrow that it was, more or less, still standing. Death
Eaters had done quite a fine job in breaking down the protective wards but had been unable to destroy the house.

“Ron, wait!” called Harry. They had taken a hastily conjured portkey (a book about lions) to Ottery St. Catchpole and
now Ron was running to the house. “It might not be safe!”

“I don’t care!” he shouted back, still running. Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and ran after him. Hermione and
Ginny followed in hot pursuit.

“Mum? Mum! Dad?” Ron screeched as he went through the kitchen door. Out of habit, he checked the clock. According to the
clock, Molly, Arthur, Percy, Fred, George and the newest addition Angelina, were all ‘At the Burrow’. He watched as his
own arm flicked to the same setting. Then as Ginny came in, so did hers.

“They’re here,” he said, quite confused. The silence in the house seemed to suggest otherwise. The house had been
ransacked by Death Eaters, but there didn’t seem to be any signs of a fight. They quickly searched through the entire
house. There was nobody there.

“Bloody Hell!” shouted a voice downstairs. They ran into the kitchen to find Bill Weasley standing in the kitchen
looking shocked and angry. “Who the Hell did this?”

“Bill!” squealed Ginny, throwing herself into her eldest brother’s arms.

“Hey Gin, I just spoke to Sirius Black over the fire. Where is everyone?” he asked. Then he spotted the clock.

“We don’t know. We can’t find them anywhere,” said Ron, giving his brother a quick hug.

“I think I know where they’ll be,” said Bill, going into the living room. He pulled up the rug. “You’re too young to
remember, but Dad built this in the Seventies.”

“What? The floor?” asked Ron impatiently.

“No, stupid,” said Bill, tracing a pattern on the floor with his wand. “This,”

The outline of a trapdoor had formed on the seemingly solid floor. Bill grabbed at the handle and murmured a quick
incantation. He pulled the door up to reveal a comfortable looking sitting room below the floor. Inside were six
Weasleys, all looking highly relieved to see them.

“Mum!” cried Ron, helping her out of the hole. “What happened?”

“I think I’d like a cup of tea first,” said Molly, hugging her children. “Hello Harry, dear. And Hermione. Did Professor
Dumbledore let you come here?”

“Not exactly,” muttered Hermione. Molly headed into the kitchen and began making a large pot of tea. Everyone sat down
and began talking all at once.

“Must’ve been about twenty Death Eaters,” said Fred.

“Twenty at least,” added George.

“We were just eating dinner,” said Angelina. “And the protection wards went down.”

“I built this hidey-hole during Voldemort’s last reign of terror. You were all just babies, so I built it for Molly to
hide you all in. The beauty is, only a Weasley can reveal the door, let alone open it. It just means we mustn’t all go
down there at the same time,” Mr Weasley said, eyes twinkling.

“It’s a very good idea,” said Ron. “Why didn’t you tell us about it?”

“We haven’t needed it since 1981,” said Arthur, looking over at Harry quickly. “Molly spent that Halloween night down
there with you all.”

“Bill, you really should think about getting a hair cut, dear,” Molly was saying to her eldest boy.

“I like my hair the way it is, Mum.”

“Yes, but what must the people you work with think?”

“Mum, I’m a curse breaker. The people I work with have, on average, been dead for three thousand years. They don’t
care.”

“I really should get home,” Percy was saying to no one in particular.

“What, dear?” Molly turned her attention to Percy.

“Penelope will be absolutely terrified, I’m sure. I was meant to be home two hours ago.”

“She’ll just think you’ve got a girlfriend,” teased George. Percy straightened up.

“She will not think that,” he said without humour. “But I might remind you that my wife is expecting a child. I must get
home to her.”

“Of course dear,” said Molly, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll bring Penelope over for Sunday dinner, won’t you?”

“Yes Mother,” he said before apparating out with a pop.

“And you lot,” said Molly, turning on the Hogwarts students, “I want you back at school right this minute!”

“Mum, it isn’t safe for you here now,” said Ron. “The protection wards are down. You should come back with us.”

“But...”

“He’s right, Mrs Weasley,” said Harry. “Professor Dumbledore has been adding even more wards to the school. You’ll be
safe there.”

“But this is my home!” she said. “They didn’t drive me out twenty years ago, they won’t do it now.”

“Now Molly,” started Arthur.

“No, I won’t...”

“The war is coming, isn’t it?” Bill asked quite suddenly, looking at Harry. He nodded solemnly.

“Yes. Some wizard families up in Leeds were attacked tonight too.”

“Who?” asked Arthur worriedly.

“The Henreids, the Crawfords and the Howards,” replied Hermione.

“Well then,” said Bill authoritatively. “We’ll come to Hogwarts.”

“What?” asked Molly.

“Mum, we’re going so that we can help,” he said firmly. “I’ll go to Percy’s and bring him and Penelope up to the school.
Then I’ll owl Charlie at the new sanctuary in Croatia, tell him what’s going on. Tell Professor Dumbledore that we’re
coming.”

“All right,” said Harry, pulling the portkey from his pocket. “Everyone grab hold.”

Bill apparated while everyone else grabbed onto the portkey/book. They then felt the familiar tugging behind the navel
before landing in the gardens at Hogwarts.

***

The next morning at breakfast, it was impossible for anyone to think that life was the same as before. The large number
of (mostly redheaded) guests was hard to ignore, as was the number of shattered looking students. It was no surprise
then, that Dumbledore stood up to speak.

“As you may or may not know, there were attacks on several wizarding families across Britain last night. The war against
Voldemort is most certainly going to be upon us very soon. You are all safe here, as I have told you before. The
duelling lessons many of you have been taking will soon be needed in the fight against Voldemort. I will remind you once
again that together we are strong while divided we are weak. Now is the time for us to forget petty arguments or house
rivalries and stick together as one.”

Dumbledore sat down as everyone began talking at once. After breakfast was done, he approached Harry and his friends.

“We will be meeting in the chamber this evening. Maura will tell you more about it once she gets back from Kilburn.”

“What was she doing there?” asked Harry.

“Getting the Guardians for a plan we have. Don’t worry, she’s perfectly safe. As far as we know, Voldemort is not yet
aware of her identity. I’ll have Dobby fetch you from class when she’s back.”

Dumbledore then headed out of the Great Hall with the Weasleys, leaving the trio to their thoughts.

***

“I really don’t care about this stuff,” whispered Harry. He, Ron and Hermione were sat in Transfiguration taking notes
for NEWT preparation, but he was finding it hard to care about exams at the moment.

“Me neither,” added Ron.

“Come on,” said Hermione. “Even I don’t care about NEWTs.”

They both turned to look at her with looks of extreme shock and horror. Before McGonagall could castigate them, however,
Dobby turned up.

“Professor Dumbledore says Harry Potter and his friends must go to the Entrance Hall,” he told McGonagall. Expecting at
least a little annoyance from the teacher, Harry was most surprised when McGonagall simply nodded. He realised then that
they were not the only ones who knew that there were more important things than NEWTs. The three gathered up their books
and shot out of the room towards the Entrance Hall.

“What’s going on?” demanded Hermione when they found Maura pacing the length of the Entrance Hall looking particularly
agitated. Her hair was even messier than usual, her shirt was creased with a rip down one sleeve, while she was cradling
her right hand as if injured.

“We need to talk, all of us,” she said solemnly. She turned to Ron. “Your family, is everyone all right?”

“Yes,” he said. “How did you hear?”

“I’ll tell you later. First of all, we need to speak to Dumbledore. He’s getting more guests.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Hermione. Maura pointed at an alcove in the hall where three people were sat,
talking quietly amongst themselves.

“This is Alex Richards, his wife Eloise and their daughter Anne Marie.”

The man, Alex had a stately bearing and was dressed in the best Savile Row suit money could buy. His dark hair was
streaked with silver and he had a friendly smile. He stepped forward and shook Harry’s hand.

“You must be Harry Potter, right?” he asked.

“That’s right... sir.”

“Maura told us about you and your friends,” Eloise added, also shaking his hand.

“This is Hermione, and this is Ron,” Maura told them. Anne Marie nodded to them.

“I would get up, but...” she shifted slightly to reveal to the three a little girl, nearly a year old, fast asleep in
her arms.

“Is this Deirdre?” asked Hermione. Maura nodded with a rare broad smile.

“Yes.” The smile disappeared and she was back to business. “Hermione, this is important. Owl your parents. Tell them
that they must come here as soon as they can.”

Hermione looked panicked but forced herself to remain calm.

“What? Why?”

“Because they’re in danger. Or if they’re not yet, they will be soon. Don’t ask questions!” Maura said, suddenly angry.
“I must see Dumbledore, now!”

“Yes, Miss Kennealy?” Dumbledore appeared in the hall, his voice as calm as ever.

“Professor,” she said. “I must ask that you find space in the Castle for the Richardses. And Hermione’s family.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked, voice still calm. Maura, on the other hand, was less than calm.

“I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but the Guardians have been keeping an eye out. We found Death Eater spies at the
Richards house. After some, uh... questioning,” here Maura revealed her bloodied right fist, “I found out that Voldemort
knows my name now and he went after the family. Being the evil sort, I reckon he heard about the battles last year and
put two and two together.”

“What does this have to do with my family?” asked Hermione, looking truly terrified now.

“They said that if they couldn’t get to Harry Potter himself, they’d get to his friends. And if they couldn’t get to his
friends, they’d get to his friends’ families.”

“That’s why he attacked the Burrow!” said Harry, eyes flashing with anger.

“Now Harry,” said Ron in a reasonable voice, knowing his friend’s inclination towards self-recrimination. “That won’t
have been his only reason. We’re a pretty powerful lot when we put our minds to it. He’d have done well to get rid of us
before the fighting started. But we’re also pretty hardy.” Ron flashed a bright grin at them.

“I’ll go and owl my parents now. How will they get here?” Hermione said, winning her struggle to stay calm and
collected. Dumbledore smiled at her.

“Tell them to go to the Leaky Cauldron as if they were taking you for school supplies. I will have Professor White meet
them there.”

“Sirius!” Harry turned to the Professor. “He’s still being hunted! He can’t hang about in a pub!”

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, still calm. “Professor White is a Hogwarts teacher and as such will be trusted by all at the
Leaky Cauldron. He will meet the Grangers and bring them back here where they will be protected. I will take the
Richards family and get them accommodation.”

His calmness eased the rising panic in the room.

“I still have to tell you about the plan,” said Maura as she pacified herself.

“We’ll do it after Hermione’s owled her mum and dad,” said Harry. “Everyone’s in class. Come to the common room.”

“All right,” said Maura, taking her daughter from Anne Marie. “Lead on Professor.”

Dumbledore, Maura and the Richardses headed off into the castle. Once they were out of sight, Hermione sat down and
promptly began hyperventilating.

“My mum... my dad...”

“Calm down, Hermione, we’ll go and owl them now. You can use Hedwig,” said Harry in an attempt to comfort her.

“They won’t know what to do.... I’ve kept so much from them.... They don’t know what’s going on, who Voldemort is...”

“I know, I know,” he said, hugging her tightly and rocking her in a soothing motion. “Come on, love.”

She stood up, still gripping Harry’s arm quite tightly. She nodded.

“All right.”

***

Dumbledore was as good as his word. The Richardses were given rooms in the rapidly filling guest quarters while Sirius
was dispatched to the Leaky Cauldron, where they all recognised him as Professor White: Hogwarts teacher. He brought the
bemused and rather worried Grangers to the castle. Dumbledore also discreetly put the word out that anyone wishing to
help in the fight against Voldemort was to come to the castle.

Meanwhile, the four met up in the deserted common room. There that Maura laid out the plan.

“The Guardians have been working on this since... since September, basically. But they’re not magical like you lot, so
they’ve been running up against brick walls. Which is where the Order came in. You’re not the only members of the Order
that have been working non-stop since before Christmas.”

“What does it entail?” asked Hermione, ever interested in the academics of plans.

“Do you remember Ron’s first trance?” asked Maura. They nodded.

“I saw a diamond and a circle, and us.”

“Right. We are the four points of the diamond,” she said, pulling out a sheet of paper and putting it on the table. She
drew four points and then connected them in the form of a diamond.

“Where does the circle come in?” asked Harry. She smiled and drew a circle from the points so that the diamond was
within the circle.

“The Circle is made up of the members of the Order. We are in the circle, but we also make up the diamond. Does this
make any sense to anyone but the Guardians?”

“It does,” said Hermione, looking at the drawing. “But what does it mean?”

“It’s a very complex spell rooted in ancient magic, like the best rituals always are.”

“Power transference?” asked Ron.

“Sort of. It’s more of a binding, I think,” said Maura. “I must admit I didn’t really listen that closely when Clara was
telling me. She has a tendency to go on a bit.”

“A binding?” asked Harry.

“Yes. The four points within the circle become the diamond. I hope this is making more sense to you than it is me.”

The three of them looked blank.

“Thought so. We’ll have to talk to the Order about this. Did Dumbledore tell you about the meeting later?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’ll have to show me the way, I’ve got no idea where we’re going.”

“All right,” said Hermione. “I’m off to the library.”

“What a surprise,” said Harry and Ron together.

“Sod off,” she said, equal parts amusement and irritation before heading out of the common room.

***

Harry found Hermione knee-deep in books when he arrived in the library an hour later. Madam Pince was looking over quite
disapprovingly at the mess Hermione had made. It was quite astounding for the usually neat Hermione. Books were piled up
on the table, on the chairs, on the floor, and several of the piles had fallen down making the mess worse. In the middle
sat Hermione, her hair wild and her eyes wilder.

“Hermione, what are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to find out about this ritual,” she said. “I want to know what it entails. I do wish Maura would listen to those
Guardians of hers more closely. Anyone would think she didn’t care.”

“Calm down, Hermione.”

“Calm down!” she shrieked, earning a reproving glare from Madam Pince. “How can I calm down? We’re about to go to WAR!
My mum and dad are here because there are people that want to KILL THEM!” Hermione was shaking quite violently now. “We
have to take part in some strange ritual and I don’t think it’s unreasonable of me to want to know more about it.”

She sat back down again and Harry took the only chair not covered in books- the seat opposite hers.

“Want some help?” he asked as if her outburst hadn’t just happened.

“I’d appreciate it,” she answered, throwing a book at him. “Here, take this.”

“Fine,” he said taking a book from her. They sat in near silence for a while, both reading.

“Have you seen your mum and dad yet?” he asked.

“Briefly. Professor McGonagall was going to explain the whole war thing to them.”

“McGonagall?”

“Yes. She was the one who came to our house after my Hogwarts letter turned up. She’s really quite good at explaining
the seemingly inexplicable.”

She looked down at the page she was reading and flicked to the next. She stopped and flicked back.

“I think I’ve found it!” she said. “Look at this.”

Harry moved round to stand behind her. On the page was the same diagram Maura had drawn roughly in the common room, a
diamond within a circle. The points were mapped out and marked as The Soul, The Heart, The Head and The Spirit.

“How do we know who’s who?” he asked. She shushed him and continued reading.

“It’s obvious,” she said, slamming the book shut with a grin.

“It is?”

“Yes.”

“Mind explaining?”

“No. Not until later. I want to know if that’s the plan. It’s genius, really!” Hermione squealed excitedly and jumped
up.

“Come on, let’s go!

“Go where?”

“Anywhere!” She skipped out of the room, Harry in hot pursuit. They ended up outside surrounded by rose bushes.

“Are you all right?” he asked with concern. She’d gone from stressed and shouting to this, whatever this was.

“I’m fine. Don’t look at me like I’ve grown a second head. If the plan is what I think it is, we’re going to be fine.
Brilliant, in fact.”

“Does it entail ritual sacrifice of any kind?”

“No.”

“Will anyone have to get married?” he asked, thinking of the last ritual Maura had been involved in.

“No. But you might want to bring your Order robes with you.”

“And they won’t get ruined?”

“No. There’s not even any blood involved in the ritual. Well, it works better if we do...”

“How much of that page did you manage to read in two seconds?”

“Oh, I’ve been terribly slow,” she said with a giggle. “I’ve read about it before, a long time ago. It’s a binding
ritual of sorts.”

“Will we hear each other’s thoughts and other very creepy stuff?”

“No... I don’t think so. I think it’s best if we wait until later, all right. I don’t think I’d explain it very well.
And it might not be quite the same.”

“Fine. Don’t tell me.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. I don’t want you to tell me.”

“You know I was thinking,” she said. “How do you suppose this war will work? Will Voldemort just turn up here one day
with his Death Eaters? Will there be more attacks before anything happens? Is it prearranged? Do we make an appointment
with him to start fighting at ten on such and such a date?”

“I don’t know,” he said, sitting down on the grass. Spring was arriving, and he plucked idly at a strand of grass. She
sat down beside him.

“Harry?”

“Yes.”

“I really think we’re going to win, you know.”

“Good. I’m glad you have confidence in us.”

“I always have. You should try and look on the bright side, Harry.”

“I do try. But I didn’t have a bright side for quite some time, and it’s a new feeling for me.”

Hermione stroked the side of his face with her hand. He shuddered slightly at the contact, and shut his eyes tightly.

“It doesn’t have to be,” she said. He pulled away from her as if he was on fire.

“Don’t,” he said. Her eyes flashed angrily for a moment.

“Don’t what? Don’t be your friend?”

“Just... don’t.”

“You rarely make any sense, Harry,” she said, standing up again. “I’m off to get something to eat. I might just remind
you of what Maura said about connections months ago. This binding, however it works, won’t work at all if you try and
get noble and heroic and pull away from us.”

Then, she stalked back inside, leaving Harry to his thoughts.

***

Harry did as Hermione asked: he got his Order robes out. She’d clearly tipped off Ron too, as he came into the common
room carrying a blue bundle. Hermione emerged about two minutes before they intended to leave for the meeting, her
purple robes neatly folded in her arms. They led the way for Maura’s benefit and once again headed down the stone steps
into the Order’s chamber. The entire order was there as were Maura’s guardians. He noted with a smile that the Order
were all dressed in their Order robes. He threw his own on over his clothes.

“Come in, come in,” said Dumbledore when they paused nervously at the foot of the stairs. They took their seats, and
Hermione realised that not only was Harry was opposite her, Ron was already placed where his point of the diamond would
be. As if it had all been pre-arranged...

“We have somewhat swelled ranks, this evening,” started Dumbledore. Hermione looked to see Maura and her Guardians, not
sat away from the Order, but at the table. And Maura was opposite Ron in an ancient looking robe of emerald green
trimmed with red. The diamond, Hermione realised, was already in place. With Maura and the Guardians at the table now,
so was the circle.

“All right,” said Harry in a cold, determined voice Hermione had never really heard him use before. “What do you want us
to do this time?”

Sirius grinned at him from his place next to Ron. He was proud of Harry’s boldness, of his unwillingness to be cowed by
the older people in the room.

“There is a ritual,” began Patricia, the eldest of the Guardians. She had the faintest trace of an Irish accent. During
their training with the Guardians, Ron and Hermione had barely heard her speak: Clara, the younger Guardian seemed to
talk enough for the both of them.

“It is an ancient ritual of binding,” she continued.

“What does it involve?” asked Sirius, casting a worried glance over at his godson.

“A promise, Mr Black,” said Patricia. Her deep voice seemed to command attention without having to rise above a low
volume. Like Dumbledore, thought both Harry and Hermione.

“A promise?” asked Snape. Patricia just nodded.

“A promise by all in the circle to fight for freedom, truth and the light. The promise binds the four points into the
diamond and gives them ancient powers rarely invoked.”

“How long will it last?” That was Hermione, thought Harry quite fondly, always wanting to know everything.

“For as long as there is a battle to be won. Once your Voldemort and his minions are defeated, the powers will leave
you, but the bond will remain. The bond itself is unbreakable without the complete agreement of the entire diamond.”

“Does it let us read each other’s minds?” asked Ron.

“Does it involve a marriage of any sort?” asked Maura, both echoing Harry and Hermione’s earlier conversation.

“No, and no,” said Patricia, smiling slightly at Maura’s question. “It is a spiritual bond. In the old days, it was
known as the Heart and Soul ritual although that is not exactly accurate. It binds them together. When one of the people
involved feels despair, the rest can bolster them through the bond. Strength in numbers, as they say. The power given to
you is a rare gift. Many have been corrupted by it, and when it left them, they went mad. It is not to be undertaken
lightly.”

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was quite obviously thinking of those other druids. He smiled reassuringly at her.
Perhaps Patricia noticed this, because she continued speaking.

“We would not consider the ritual if we did not all think you were each worthy of the gift, or if you were not strong
enough to shoulder such a burden.”

Normally such things would flatter Harry, Hermione and Ron. But now they were simply too worried to notice. Harry
glanced over at Hermione to try and see if it was what she’d thought it would be. She seemed deep in thought. She looked
up and caught Harry’s eye.

“I’m in,” she said. Harry also nodded.

“Me too.”

“And me,” said Ron fervently. There came a long pause and they all looked to Maura with concern.

“Oh, I’m in,” she said with a wicked grin. “But I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?”

Half the room glared at her for joking at such a serious time, while the other half laughed. Clara, Harry noticed was in
the former group while Patricia was in the latter group.

“We are agreed, then?” asked Patricia. The four of them nodded before the rest of the circle joined in.

“Well, I have no doubt that they will do a commendable job,” said Dumbledore. Now it was Professor Flitwick’s turn to
speak.

“We have spent weeks researching the spells involved,” he started in his slightly squeaky voice. “The spell will require
all of us to take part in the casting before the four are bound.”

“The four points of the diamond represent the four elements required: The Head, the Heart, the Soul and the Spirit,”
explained Patricia.

“Which is which?” asked Sirius. Patricia smiled.

“Actually, we thought it was rather obvious,” she said. Sirius thought carefully for a moment before nodding to her.
Some of the others who did not know the four as well still looked rather confused.

“I know,” said Hermione. All eyes were now on her. “Well, I’m the Head, quite obviously. Ron, the resident shaman is the
Soul. Maura, our warrior queen is the Spirit and Harry the Gryffindor is the Heart. We’re already in place too.”

“How do you mean, Miss Granger?” asked Dumbledore. He seemed to know the answer but wanted her to say it.

“Well... The head and the heart are opposites. They sometimes end up in conflict. In the same way, the earthly, active
Spirit sometimes ends up in conflict with the more ethereal, peaceful Soul. But they all link together and when they’re
all in conjunction, well, we can achieve anything.”

Patricia nodded approvingly at Hermione.

“Exactly. We will do it now.”

“Now?” asked McGonagall, not prepared to undertake such a huge effort immediately.

“Yes. We have everything we require and I think it prudent to do it as soon as possible. We are all here, we are all in
agreement,” said Patricia. McGonagall nodded. “Clara, we should set up,”

Clara nodded and opened a bag by her side.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I need to get around the table.” The Order members moved away and she began sprinkling a
shimmering purple power around the edge of the table with an exactness to be admired. When she was done, they all took
their seats again.

“The three of us need to add to your number,” said Clara, pointing to the gold basin which contained a drop of blood
from every member of the Order who had ever been initiated (with the exception of Salazar Slytherin, whose blood had
been removed when he left the Order). Dumbledore nodded. Patricia cut her finger and allowed a drop to fall in. Clara
looked quite squeamish, but allowed her Grandmother to do the same to her. Maura took the dagger herself and slashed her
palm open without so much as a wince. Flitwick then healed their cuts quickly with a simple healing charm.

“We are ready?” asked Dumbledore? Patricia nodded, sitting down.

“We must all link hands,” instructed Flitwick. “Like the Muggles think they need to do for seances. And we must stand.”

A few sniggers were heard as the Order thought about the slightly ridiculous Muggle idea of seances, but they held hands
just the same before then standing. Patricia began speaking in an ancient form of Gaelic, which nobody seemed to
understand.

“Heart, Soul, Head and Spirit,” said Flitwick in translation. “Come together as if in one body. Come together as if one
entity. Bring the four together in harmony. Give to them the power of the ancient ones so that they can battle the
coming darkness. Give to them the strength they need to banish the coming evil.”

“Do you each agree to shoulder this burden?” asked Patricia, motioning for everyone in the circle to reply.

“We do,” they said in unison.

“Do you each agree to fight the coming darkness at the side of your champions?”

“We do,” they repeated. Hermione thought it sounded a lot like her initiation, but supposed that once you’ve heard one
ancient ritual, you’ve heard them all.

“And do you, our champions, vow to uphold the freedom of all even if the price is death?”

“We do,” only the four replied.

“Do you vow to work as one, do you vow to stay loyal to each other and uphold this bond?”

“We do.”

“Do you also promise to give up the power bestowed upon you when the time comes to relinquish it?”

“We do.”

Magic surged through each member of the circle and they gripped hands tighter than ever. The purple powder which had
shimmered now positively glowed, and seemed to be the only source of light in the room. At the four points of the
diamond, it glowed so bright that Hermione had to look away. Then four shafts of gold light erupted at the four points.
From Hermione, the gold surged towards Ron in a perfectly straight line. From Ron’s point it moved to Harry’s, from
there to Maura and from Maura back to Hermione. A gold diamond of light shone within the circle now. It remained for no
more than five seconds before they all felt another surge of magic. The members of the circle began to feel weak as the
magic drained from them into the diamond. It glowed even more brightly so that nobody could look at it. Then it
disappeared as they each collapsed, exhausted and drained. Only four people remained standing, and they had been at the
four points of the diamond.

They weren’t quite sure what to do. Harry glanced over at Hermione, who looked quite invigorated by the experience.
Patricia was the first to speak.

“You can sit down. And we don’t need to hold hands any longer,” she said, sounding tired.

“I’ve done a lot of magic in my time, but what was that?” asked Sirius.

“We collapsed because our bodies are unused to so much magic running through them. We were vessels for the old magic,”
said Clara. Now that the ritual was done, Patricia seemed to be letting her do the talking again. “There’s so much of
the stuff that we needed the entire circle.”

“And it’s all in us now?” asked Harry worriedly, casting an eye around the clearly drained group.

“Yes. It’s a very subtle sort of power,” said Clara. “You’ll all be able to access different parts of it. Ron will find
his trances a lot easier now, I’m sure. Hermione will also be more skilled in certain druidic fields, that sort of
thing.”

Dumbledore stood up, not looking quite as weak as the others despite his age and Harry once again marvelled at the man’s
strength.

“I believe that’s everything?” he asked. Patricia nodded.

“That’s it? That’s all we needed to do?” asked Ron quite incredulously. He received several dark glares from exhausted
members of the Order in return. He had the grace to look sheepish.

“We will reconvene again soon,” said Dumbledore. “For now I think it’s probably best if we return to our usual routines
of reconnaissance and defence. We must not let Voldemort know that we have this on our side. It may only prompt him to
investigate ancient magic of his own. He must think that his greatest enemy is a seventeen year old boy.”

They each nodded, although Harry looked a little put out about Dumbledore’s description of him.

“We must not speak of this to anyone,” added Dumbledore most solemnly. “Not husbands or wives or confidantes. I do not
like to invoke Phoenicium Celare, but I will do it if I must. This is the crux of our operation, I believe and we must
keep it secret. Which means no talking in the common room,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “It does not leave this
room.”

They each nodded in agreement.

“Well then, I think that’s it. I’m off to the kitchens. I’m told Winky’s baked a large pumpkin pie,” he said, standing
up. This was everyone else’s cue to get up. Most members of the Order were still quite obviously tired and some remained
seated. Ron bounced over to Harry.

“This is the weirdest feeling,” he said. Harry sighed.

“I wouldn’t get used to it, if I were you.”

“The first feeling of power will dissipate, Mr Potter,” said Patricia, hearing him. “But you are right. The power will
not remain. You would probably do well to remember that.”

“Thank you,” said Harry with a nod. Maura then came over.

“Well, I just feel plain bloody weird. I’m off to see Anne Marie and Deirdre. See you tomorrow?” she asked. Harry and
Ron nodded before adding their ‘good nights’.

“I feel...” said Hermione, as always searching for just the right words. “I feel as if I’ve just drunk a large vat of
the strongest coffee I could find.”

“I know. I’m definitely not tired,” added Harry. He got a mischievous grin on his face that Hermione found reminiscent
of Sirius. “I’ve got an idea. Follow me,” he said, bounding up the stairs with Hermione and Ron in hot pursuit.

“Blimey,” said Sirius as he as Remus watched them leave. “Wish I had that much energy.”

“You used to,” remarked Remus. “Some of us are glad you don’t have quite that much anymore. Twenty years ago, you’d be
dragging us out into the grounds to lark about as animals.”

Sirius and Remus shared knowing looks.

***

Ten minutes later, after taking their Order robes to their dorms, three Gryffindors stood outside preparing to become
animals. Remus, it seemed, had been spot on.

“Want to?” asked Harry.

“Well...” began Hermione. “We’ve never done it alone and we’re probably not allowed and...” she trailed off as Harry and
Ron looked at her pleadingly. She sighed. “Fine. But if we get in trouble, I’m blaming you.”

Harry smirked at her before transforming quite quickly into his animagus form.

“Don’t roar too loudly, you’ll scare the first years,” Hermione told the lion. It stuck it’s tongue out at her before
nodding.

“Thanks Rex,” she said with a grin. “That’s what we’ll call you: Rex!”

Rex nodded and bounded off down towards the lake. Ron looked at Hermione.

“Rex?”

“Yes. Lions are called Rex. You know, King of the Animal Kingdom and everything. And you didn’t get the Simba
reference.”

“Not my fault I’ve never seen a Dismal film.”

“Disney, Ron. It’s Disney,” she said, rolling her eyes. They transformed at much the same time and headed off towards
the lake: one on all four paws and one flying.

The lion bounded across the grass feeling for all the world like a million galleons. For the first time in his life he
really felt like he could conquer the world, that victory over Voldemort was really possible.

The phoenix swooped up high above Hogwarts until the big cats roaming around were mere specks on the ground. The world
has a very different perspective from here, she thought. From here it all looked so small and insignificant and even the
biggest hurdles seemed surmountable.

The tiger bounced along the lakeside, wondering if real tigers actually bounce. For the first time he felt like an
individual. Nobody else he knew could become a tiger, nobody else was a shaman. He felt needed and loved and
appreciated, and that meant the world to him. He purred contentedly as the water lapped at his paws.

The phoenix watched her friends closely. She watched the tiger play with the water and noticed that the lion had sat
down, his head in his paws. She swooped down to him and landed gently on his back. She sang quietly for a while. The
lion settled down into a lying position and listened to her song. Lara’s Theme, the lion thought as he recognised the
song the phoenix crooned. It was from the film the school had seen. The haunting melody vibrated through him as it rose
through the night. The phoenix snuggled down onto his back as she sang, and the lion was filled with such happiness he
thought he might cry.

***

To Be Continued...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

9. Dragons & Dress Robes

Chapter Summary: In which the war effort gears up, Spring arrives, Harry sharpens his oratorical skills, the final
Weasley arrives at Hogwarts with two very special friends and Lily Potter shows up.

*

Chapter Nine: Dragons and Dress Robes

A steady stream of former Hogwarts students began arriving at the school after Dumbledore’s announcement. First to
arrive were Fred and George’s old friends Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet, followed by the ever-loyal Diggorys.
Professional Quidditch was suspended by the Ministry a week after the attack on the Burrow as Cornelius Fudge could no
longer deny Voldemort’s return. Amongst others, Oliver Wood and Aidan Lynch arrived at Hogwarts, incensed that Voldemort
had come between them and Quidditch and determined to get the league reinstated as soon as possible.

The castle was becoming filled with people arriving to help the cause and others who thought Hogwarts would be safer
than their homes. By far the most exciting arrival was that of Charlie Weasley. He arrived one afternoon while Harry,
Ron and Hermione were outside for Herbology. None of the class could miss the huge Hungarian Horntail flying over the
Forbidden Forest. At first, the class began to panic, but Harry then noticed the red-headed man on the dragon’s back,
waving to them. It landed gracefully and while most people ran away from it, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran towards it.

“Charlie! Charlie!” Ron shouted. “What are you doing? Are you mad?”

“He’s perfectly safe,” said Charlie in casual tones as he jumped off the Horntail’s back.

“Right, we believe you,” said Ron sarcastically.

“Trust me Ronnie,” said Charlie. “This Horntail’s been hand reared since hatching.”

“Yeah? By who?” his brother demanded.

“By Romana,” said Charlie, helping another person off the Horntail’s back. Dressed in a style similar to Charlie, the
woman had a mane of black hair and looked to be of gypsy or Slavic descent. Charlie took the reins of the dragon in one
hand and her hand in the other.

“This is Romana. My wife,” he said. Ron’s mouth fell open as Charlie smiled.

“Mum’s going to kill you!” Ron managed to say when he recovered the gift of speech.

“Probably. So how’ve you been?” Charlie asked casually.

“Oh all right. I’m a shaman, you know.”

“Really? Cool.”

“Hagrid’s going to love you,” said Hermione. Charlie grinned.

“No he won’t. He’ll be all over Romana though.”

“Is it really tame?” asked Harry curiously, recalling the last time he was this close to a Horntail.

“Yes, but he won’t obey anyone but Romana.”

“Jealous, Charlie?” asked Ron with a smirk.

“Nah,” Charlie replied with a good-natured smile.

“Mum’s really going to kill you. You didn’t even tell us!”

“We only got married last month, Ron. It was kind of... spontaneous.”

“That’s nice,” said Ron with a grin for his brother. “But she’s still going to kill you.”

“Is she all right?” asked Charlie with concern. “Did the attack...”

“Calm down, Charlie. You should know our mother well enough to know she’s not easily scared, and definitely not by Death
Eaters.”

“Good.” Charlie turned to his wife. “So, want to meet my mum?”

“It would be about time, Charlie,” said Romana, a strong Croatian accent colouring her words.

“First though, we have to find somewhere to put Augustine.”

“Who?” asked Ron.

“The dragon,” explained Romana.

“Well, Hagrid’s coming over. Ask him,” said Harry.

“Ello Charlie!” bellowed Hagrid. “Good to see yeh!”

“Afternoon, Hagrid.”

“Who’s this?” he asked, coming over to the dragon.

“This is Augustine, Romana’s Horntail,” said Charlie. “Know where we can put him?”

“Yeh’ve got him tamed?” asked Hagrid in a near-reverential voice.

“Romana raised him. Hagrid, this is my wife Romana,” said Charlie, introducing his wife.

“Lovely to meet yeh,” said Hagrid, shaking her hand warmly. She smiled back.

“Charlie has mentioned you,” she said. “You’re fond of dragons?”

“Hagrid loves dragons,” said Ron.

“You remember that Ridgeback I told you about?” Charlie asked. “Hagrid raised him until he got too big.”

“He’s tame, this one?” asked Hagrid with great awe.

“Yes. Do you know where he can stay?” Romana asked with a charming smile.

“I’ll take yeh to the Forest. Follow me,” he said, leading Romana and Augustine towards the Forbidden Forest.

“Charlie! Charlie!” Molly Weasley came running across the grass towards her son.

“Hey Mum, how are you?” he said, hugging her warmly.

“I’m fine, love. Why did it take you so long to get here?”

“We had to tie up some loose ends at the sanctuary before coming out here.”

“He arrived on a dragon, Mum!” exclaimed Ron excitedly.

“A dragon! Charlie, you could’ve been killed!”

“Mum, Mum, I work with dragons all the time. Besides, this one is completely tame.”

“A tame dragon? Who would tame a dragon?” she asked. At that opportune moment, Romana Kobaich Weasley returned.

“Mum,” said Charlie, sucking in a very deep breath. “This is Romana. My, uh... my wife. She tames dragons.”

Molly Weasley’s mouth fell open and for a long moment she was speechless, something that both Ron and Charlie had long
thought impossible.

“Wife?” she repeated in a stunned voice. Charlie nodded.

“It’s lovely to meet you at last, Mrs. Weasley,” said Romana, putting out her hand. Molly shook it, still quite
bewildered.

“Charlie?” Molly asked. He smiled charmingly at his mother.

“We got married in January.”

“January!” she screeched. “That was a month ago, why didn’t you tell me? Did you not think I’d be interested? Honestly
Charlie, not telling your own mother!”

Charlie took this ear-bashing with grace. After a few minutes of this, she stopped and turned to Romana and smiled
sweetly.

“Hello dear, it’s lovely to meet you,” she said, taking Romana away from Charlie and leading her towards the castle.
“You must tell me all about you and Charlie...”

“That could’ve been worse,” said Charlie as he watched his mother and wife walk away. “Much worse. But now I should see
Dumbledore.”

The faces of each turned serious.

“How are things here?” Charlie asked Harry. “Since the Burrow was attacked?”

“Well, there was an attempt at the Fletcher house,” he replied. “But the family were already here. It’s mostly been a
lot of scare tactics on the part of the Death Eaters.”

Harry paused for a long moment.

“He’s up to something, I know it. He must be preparing for something big.”

“I think, Harry,” said Charlie “that we all agree with you.”

***

By the beginning of March, most lessons for everyone from Fifth year or above had been abandoned in favour of training
for coming battles. It was a voluntary thing, but so far nobody seemed to have said no. Several students had disappeared
after receiving black letters, and Dumbledore was forced to accept the sad truth that some of his students would be
fighting on the other side when the time came.

More families were attacked, and the Dark Mark flew high in the sky again as it had done so twenty years before. More
and more people arrived to stay in the castle, including residents of Hogsmeade after an attack there nearly destroyed
the Three Broomsticks. The increasing number of people on the side of Dumbledore and what people were calling the
Phoenician Army (after the Order of the Phoenix) worked hard to keep Death Eaters at bay. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade became
increasingly cut off from the rest of the wizarding world- particularly Diagon Alley, in the face of Death Eater
ambushes and embargoes. It became harder to get supplies from the place and Hogwarts increasingly took on a siege
mentality.

At the end of March, Sirius led a raid on a well-known Death Eater’s house- Marco Zabini. Zabini ended up being killed
by a stray Avada Kedavra conjured by one of his own men, while Sirius’ right foot was broken.

When Harry was finally allowed into the hospital wing to see Sirius, he bounced in torn between happiness and worry.

“Are you all right, Sirius?” he asked anxiously. Sirius nodded tiredly.

“I’ll be fine. Foot bones are tricky to heal, but I should be fine in a few days.”

“Did the raid go all right?”

“Well, we would’ve preferred to take Zabini alive, but it wasn’t my fault his mates were sloppy.”

“Professor Dumbledore said that Blaise can probably come out of hiding now,” Harry told him.

“Hi Sirius!” called Hermione as she and Ron came into the hospital wing. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sirius repeated. “How is everything here?”

“Well, Charlie reckons that his dragons can be used in battle, but some of the less enlightened people around here are
complaining,” said Harry.

“Like who?” asked Sirius.

“Like Percy,” answered Ron with a roll of his eyes. “Dragons are unsafe... Can’t possibly be tame... blah, blah, Percy,
blah,” he said with an uncanny impression of his brother.

“Well, I see his point,” said Sirius. “We’d have to make sure that the dragons wouldn’t accidentally breathe fire onto
our lot as well.”

Ron looked crestfallen.

“But I’m sure it can be sorted out,” Sirius added hastily, putting a smile back on Ron’s face. “I’ve got worse news,
though.”

“What?” asked Harry quickly, worried at the extremely grave look on his godfather’s face.

“It’s coming and it’s coming very, very soon. Voldemort’s gearing up and he plans to attack the school.”

“Says who?” asked Hermione.

“Says the Death Eater we fed Veritaserum earlier,” he said. “Voldemort’s been planning for as long as we suspected. He’d
got veela, vampires, Death Eaters, all kinds of creatures and they’re all coming here.”

“Do you know when?”

“Two weeks, no more.”

“Bloody Hell. Did you tell Dumbledore?” asked Ron. Sirius nodded.

“It’s all in hand. There will be a meeting of the Order in a couple of days. And not just the members at the table.”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry, not aware that other members existed.

“I mean retired members, members who stepped down for one reason or another. I mean people like your mother, Ron.”

“My mum was a member of the Order of the Phoenix?” Ron asked, his eyes goggling in surprise.

“And your father. She stepped down a long time ago to look after you kids. He retired after that Halloween when
Voldemort disappeared.”

Harry didn’t think that pink-eared Ron had ever looked quite so proud.

***

The meeting came around quickly and involved so many people that it was held in the Great Hall rather than in the Order
chamber or the abandoned classroom they usually used.

“Welcome one and all,” said Dumbledore, kicking off proceedings as usual. “It seems rather like a family reunion,
doesn’t it?”

Despite the serious nature of the meeting, most of the people in the room laughed. Many that the trio did not recognise
were of considerable age, but there were a few like the Weasleys who had retired from the table for reasons other than
age. Professor Sprout, for instance, had not been at any previous meetings but was present now. Harry wondered if the
Order swelled its ranks during times of trouble, like the 1970s, before then decreasing numbers in times of relative
safety.

“By now you are all aware that Voldemort is planning to attack Hogwarts very soon,” started Dumbledore. “We have many
plans for this eventuality. I have every confidence in our ability to keep Death Eaters from entering the school.”

“Yes, but what about You-Know-Who?” asked Molly.

“Voldemort,” said Dumbledore quite deliberately, “is not as invincible as he would like to think he is.”

“We have several plans for Voldemort himself,” started Arabella Figg. “But that isn’t why we brought you here. We have
intelligence reports that he has amassed an army of dark creatures as well as his Death Eaters, all of whom, as we know
are well equipped with dark magic.”

“Our plan is quite simple really,” said Sirius. A few people frowned at his intervention.

“What is he doing here?” asked one wizened old witch who clearly recognised Sirius beyond the bleached blond hair.
Several others muttered their agreement with her. Dumbledore stood up and held up his hand for silence. When he got it,
he spoke.

“Sirius Black is here as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. Whatever you may have heard about him is erroneous. He
was not the Potters’ secret keeper. He did not betray them. He did not kill all those Muggles. Peter Pettigrew did.”

Not everyone looked convinced. Sirius, not usually easily embarrassed, hung his head as muttering and murmuring filled
the room.

“I believe him!” said Harry, standing up. “I saw Peter Pettigrew with my own eyes. He’s a rat animagus and he betrayed
my parents. I know Sirius and I know he’d rather have died than betrayed his best friend!” On finishing his outburst of
righteous indignation, Harry sat down again. Remus smiled proudly at him, Snape glared, while Sirius looked at Harry
with tears shining in his eyes. Now they all looked convinced. Sirius sniffed slightly and stood up to speak.

“The plan is to meet them on the grounds of the school as they arrive. We have been training the older students to duel
and we think that they can be highly useful in helping defend the castle so that we can concentrate fully on our
offensive strategies. We plan to divide ourselves into sections to fully capitalise on everyone’s strengths. Arabella
and Remus will head up a group to concentrate on destroying whatever animals and creatures Voldemort is bringing along
with him, while our old duelling champions Snape and Flitwick over here will head up the group to tackle the Death
Eaters.”

“Yes, that’s all very well,” said the same wizened old witch. “But what about Voldemort?”

“Who do you think will take on Voldemort?” Sirius challenged her.

“Harry Potter, of course,” said some of the people in the room, including a worried but proud looking Molly.

“He’s a seventeen year old. What can he do?” challenged others.

“He will not be alone,” said Dumbledore. “We have been training Harry and his friends since the beginning of the year.
And let us not forget that Harry has faced Voldemort on several occasions in recent years and lived to tell the tale.

“What do you mean, he won’t be alone?” asked another older member of the Order. Harry stood up again, feeling rather
bold even with the eyes of the entire Order directed at him.

“I have my friends,” he said. “We’ve got a plan and I wish I could tell you all the details but I can’t. Just trust me
on this. You might say I’ve been training for this since I came to Hogwarts. I know everyone is counting on me and I
don’t intend to let you down.”

“Nor do we,” added Hermione. Ron nodded. Finally, the Order seemed convinced.

“We shall split into our groups and discuss our individual roles in more detail,” said Dumbledore. He then began
reciting lists he’d made and everyone began congregating into groups. Only the trio remained. Dumbledore went over to
them.

“An impressive speech Harry,” he said, a friendly twinkle in his eye. “I believe that Maura is waiting for you outside.”

“All right. Thank you Professor,” said Harry.

True to Dumbledore’s word, Maura was waiting outside for them.

“How did it go?”

“Not bad. Harry gave a couple of speeches, persuaded everyone to listen to Sirius, things like that.”

“Oh. Nice. What are we meant to do?”

“No idea,” said Harry. Ron cleared his throat.

“Uh, I have an idea.”

***

“I’m really not sure this is a good idea, Ron,” said Hermione. They had gone up to Trelawney’s classroom and taken some
of the incense and now Ron was preparing to go into a trance in the comfort of the Charms classroom.

“I am,” he said. “What else am I meant to do? There is nothing else.”

“But you haven’t been into many trances. What if you can’t get back? We don’t know what to do...” Hermione asked, biting
her lip anxiously.

“Hermione, I know what I’m doing.” said Ron in a firm voice. He sat down and lit the incense sticks.

“What are we meant to do?” asked Maura.

“Sit down, shut up and wait,” Ron told her.

“Fair enough,” she said with a shrug.

Ron began his preparations to go into the trance. He breathed deeply, feeling the incense begin to clear his mind.

***

“You’re Ron,” said a voice. He turned to look at the speaker. Red hair, green eyes, sweet smile... He knew this woman.

“You’re Harry’s mum,” he said, still adjusting to being in the trance. She smiled serenely and nodded.

“That’s right, Ron. It will soon be time for the fight, you know.”

“How soon?”

“Very soon.”

“Care to be more specific?”

“I cannot. But you must realise that there is only one person who can defeat Voldemort.”

“Harry.”

“Yes. But more than that, the two warriors must face him alone. Harry and the new Heir. You cannot help him once the
battle begins.”

“So what am I meant to do?” asked Ron, who had never considered not helping Harry face Voldemort.

“Ah my tiger, you must defend those who cannot defend themselves. You and the druid girl will be more help on the
battlefield.”

“So Hermione and I can’t help Harry?”

“You can help him, Ron. But you will help by fighting the Dark Lord’s minions. For if Harry defeats Voldemort but his
men take over the castle, what victory is that?” asked Lily.

“True,” said Ron, nodding with understanding.

“You are a wise young man, Ron,” Lily told him and his ears went pink. “The battle will not be easily won, but the four
of you have great power within you. You can win. You must win.”

“What happens if we don’t?” he asked.

“If you don’t? Darkness will descend upon our world like it has never managed before. You must win.”

“Well, we’ll do our best,” said Ron, feeling reality tugging at him now.

“Your best will, I hope, be good enough.”

“What about Maura? She wants to avenge your death.”

“And she will. Harry will not face Voldemort alone, she will be there to fight alongside him. But he is the only one who
can destroy Voldemort. That is how it is done and how it must be done.”

Ron nodded again and Lily smiled.

“And Ron?”

“Yes?”

“Tell my son to stop beating about the bush and just give her the ring.”

Ron looked puzzled but agreed just the same.

“All right.”

“Good bye, Ron.”

***

Ron sat up, slightly dazed, to find three pairs of eyes all looking at him with worry and curiosity.

“Well, the good news is, Harry, you can kill Voldemort. The bad news is, if you don’t the world will end.”

“We already knew that,” said Harry irritably. “Anything interesting? What did you see?”

“Well, I had a lovely conversation, actually,” said Ron. Harry looked at him.

“With whom?”

“Umm... Your mum, actually,” he said gently, wondering how his friend would react. Harry fell back into his chair,
looking a little stunned. After a moment, however, he recovered.

“My mum, really? What did she say?”

“Well, the most important thing was that when the battle comes, you and Maura must face Voldemort alone. Without us,” he
said, pointing to himself and Hermione, who looked indignant.

“Well, where will we be?” she asked.

“Fighting everyone else. Or as she put it, what use would it be if we all went off and killed Voldemort only to find
that everyone else got killed by Death Eaters? Well, she said it better than that, but still...”

“It makes sense,” said Harry, looking a little relieved. “You’ll lead the rest of them. I mean, we’ve all been training
for this for so long it would be wrong to waste it all on Voldemort.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. She said that Harry must be the one to kill him. Maura can’t do it. Only Harry.”

“Fine, whatever. Just so long as I get to give him a good kicking. Maybe break his nose,” said Maura with an amused,
vicious grin.

“He doesn’t have a nose,” said Harry. Maura wrinkled her own nose in disgust.

“Well then, I’ll just have to break something else.”

“What else, Ron?” pressed Hermione.

“Well.... She called me a wise young man.”

“How lovely,” said Hermione sarcastically. “Anything else useful?”

“No. She was insistent that I understand that we couldn’t follow Harry and Maura.”

“Right. Well, might as well go get some sleep. She didn’t happen to mention when he might turn up?” asked Maura. Ron
shook his head.

“Very soon is all she said.”

“Care to be more specific?” asked Harry. Ron grinned.

“That’s exactly what I said. But she said she couldn’t.”

“Fine. Maura’s right. Sleep time,” said Harry with a loud yawn.

“Oh, are we keeping you up?” asked Hermione. He stuck his tongue out at her and they began walking back to the tower.

“Night people,” said Maura before heading off in the direction of her room. The other three points of the diamond headed
into the tower. Hermione bade the two boys a brief good night before going up to the girls’ dorms.

“Harry?” asked Ron as they prepared for bed.

“Yeah Ron?”

“She did say something else.”

“What?” Harry turned to look and the desperate sadness in his eyes made Ron want to sob. He suddenly felt very guilty
that he was the one to speak to Lily, even if she was just an apparition in a trance.

“She uh... She said to tell you to stop beating about the bush and just give her the ring. They were her exact words and
I’ve got no idea what she’s talking about.”

Harry gave him a bittersweet smile.

“I do.”

***

Preparations began on a scale Hogwarts had never seen before. All kinds of magical and Muggle weaponry were brought into
the Castle as the Phoenician Army began mobilising. Ollivander and a team of experts came to check every single person’s
wand to make sure it was in perfect working order. Most exciting, however, was the arrival from Romania and Croatia of
some of Charlie’s colleagues, complete with dragons. Each of the dragons was tamed to some extent and spent their time
tied up in the Forest being fed sheep.

Other magical creatures were brought to the castle including, Hagrid was pleased to discover, a certain Hippogriff by
the name of Buckbeak. Indeed, Buckbeak seemed as happy to see Hagrid as Hagrid was to see him.

Members of the Order continued training students to defend the castle, and while they were all worried and scared, most
students were eager to help. They had all grown up hearing stories of Voldemort and had spent their adolescences in fear
of the newly-risen Dark Lord. Each of them wanted to finally put an end to their fear.

***

“Did you hear?” asked Ginny eagerly as she bounced into the common room. Ron, Harry and Hermione looked up from the
battle plans they were working on and each shook their heads.

“Dumbledore’s throwing us a party!” she squealed in excitement. A few of the first years heard her and joined in the
excitement. Ginny glared at them and added:

“Fourth years and above.” The First years shut up immediately.

“Why?” asked Harry with a suspicious look. Ginny giggled at him.

“You’ve been spending too much time readying for war, Harry. It’s meant to be some fun before... well, you know. Fun,
Harry. You like fun, don’t you?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny may have got over her crush, Ginny may even be the latest girlfriend of Seamus Finnigan,
but Ginny still flirted with Harry. Although Hermione and Harry had never publicly gone out with each other, and
although she had not been his girlfriend for some time, Hermione still felt jealously flare up as she watched Ginny’s
batting eyelashes and Harry’s charming smile.

“So,” Ron cut in, clearly irritated with Ginny’s flirting himself. “When is this party?”

“Saturday night, the Great Hall. Fourth years and above only. And everyone else who’s a guest of Hogwarts.”

“Fabulous,” said Ron sarcastically. “Yet another opportunity for Ron Weasley to trot out his bloody dress robes.”

“You have your new blue ones, Ron,” Harry pointed out.

“Oh. Yeah,” a certain amount of worry left Ron’s face. “But I’ll still look a complete fool as soon as I step anywhere
near the dance floor.”

“Oh, Ron!” Ginny scolded with another giggle. “You don’t mean that. It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Yes,” he said moodily. “Because the Yule Ball was so much fun.”

“That was three years ago, Ron,” said Harry with a snort of laughter.

“Yes, and I still remember it very well.”

“Well Ron,” said Hermione in a tone drier than certain deserts, “at least you have time to find a date this time. I
trust you won’t need to work out who’s a girl and who isn’t?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Well, you have two days to find a date,” said Ginny. She grinned at her brother before bouncing off in the direction of
Seamus. The trio shared an uneasy glance.

“Well...” began Ron, wondering exactly what Harry and Hermione were going to do about the dance. “I’ve got to do my
Divination homework. Bloody Trelawney, doesn’t she know there’s a war on?”

Ron jumped out of his seat and bounded up the stairs leaving Harry and Hermione alone together.

“So....” Harry trailed off awkwardly. Hermione just looked at him with those big brown eyes that made him want to kneel
down and beg forgiveness for his sins.

“Perhaps you’d like to go with Maura,” she said quite quickly. “You’re the two great warriors, after all.”

He couldn’t believe his ears.

“What?”

“Well, you two get along well now and...” she stopped and looked down at her hands, which she was wringing continuously.

“You want me to go with Maura?” he asked, green eyes boring into her. She didn’t answer. He watched her for a long
moment.

“That might be... nice,” he managed. “What... what about you?”

“Oh I don’t know. I don’t really feel like going to a party. I’ve still got so much reading to do about healing. Madam
Pomfrey and I have been working on it and I want to be ready in time for...”

“Well then. It’s all sorted.” Harry stood up and after pausing awkwardly went off in the direction of his dorm. Hermione
slumped in her seat and put her head in her hands. Had she actually told Harry to take someone else, to take Maura, to
the party?

***

“Maura, I was wondering...” started Harry. She looked up from sharpening her dagger and smirked at him.

“Yes, Harry?”

“Well, how’d you like to accompany me to the party on Saturday?” he asked, quite surprised at how easy it was to ask
her. Perhaps it was because he didn’t really want to be asking the redhead.

“Hmm...” said Maura, pretending to ponder it quite seriously. “It’s nice of you to ask...”

“But?”

“Don’t you have someone else you’d rather ask?” Maura raised her eyebrows questioningly. Harry looked at her with sad
green eyes. She put both the dagger and the sharpening tools down and gave him all her attention. He sat down in the
seat next to her and his shoulders slumped.

“Yes.”

“So why, pray tell, are you asking me?”

“She doesn’t want me to ask her. She told me to ask you.”

“Well, I feel loved.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. Hermione really told you that?”

“More or less. I asked her what she wanted to do and she said that she wasn’t going to go. Something about her healing
studies.”

“Oh. Well...” Maura fixed him with a firm look. “Promise you won’t dump me on the dance floor?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he said with a small smile.

“Well then, I’d be honoured.”

“Thanks. Pick you up at eight?”

“That would be lovely.” Then, they burst into laughter.

***

“You have to go!”

“No I don’t.”

“But... But this party was arranged specially so that we could get away from working.”

“I don’t care. I have to learn this before the battles begin. I can’t just depend on being descended from druids and
healers, I have to actually be one. It really isn’t a strong point of mine, you know. I can’t... I can’t afford to get
anything wrong.”

“Hermione...”

“No, Ron.”

“This is the second time you’ve turned me down,” said Ron quite mournfully.

“I’m sorry Ron, really I am.”

“You just wanted to go with Harry,” he accused.

“No,” she said dejectedly. “I don’t. He’s going with Maura.”

“I know, because you told him to. Why on Earth would you do that?”

“Because he doesn’t want me!” she screamed out of the blue, causing heads to turn. Ron grabbed her arm and pulled her
out of the common room and into the corridor outside.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t want me, Ron. He told me.”

“But you know he just said that...”

“I know! But the fact remains he did it. James married Lily even though there was a war on! It hasn’t stopped Percy and
Penny or Fred and Angelina, or even Seamus and Ginny. Bloody Hell Ron, Maura and George, even!”

“They are all very different cases and you know it,” said Ron, hugging her in an attempt to comfort her.

“I don’t know it! He told me he didn’t love me!”

“And you know he was lying.”

“Do I?” she asked miserably. “Do I? Ever since he’s treated me as nothing more than his friend. How do I know what Harry
Potter thinks?”

“But...”

“No buts, Ron. I’m not going. A herd of stampeding Hippogriffs couldn’t drag me there. And that’s final!” Hermione
turned on her heel and walked off down the corridor.

“She seems upset, dear,” said the Fat Lady.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said gloomily before giving her the password and going back inside.

***

The school was full of talk about the party for the next few days. Dumbledore had been right to throw it too: gone were
the stresses and strains of working so hard and the worries about what was coming, to be replaced by excitement and
anticipation of the first big function since the Triwizard Tournament. Dates were procured and declined, robes were sent
from home and the House-Elves worked hard to arrange refreshments.

Harry found himself pestered by many girls wanting to take him to the party, and while most were content to flirt and
hope he’d ask them, some were a little more brazen.

“Harry?” asked a voice. The latest girl was Joanne Newman, a pretty Ravenclaw Sixth year he knew only by sight. He
sighed and turned to face her.

“Hi... Joanne?”

“That’s right! I was wondering if you had a date for the party on Saturday yet?” she asked, right to the point without
beating about the bush.

“I’m very sorry Joanne, but I do.”

“Oh. Well, that’s OK.”

“Thank you for asking,” he said with a smile so bright and fake that it made his jaw hurt. She didn’t notice how false
it was and smiled back before bouncing away down the corridor. The sooner Saturday was over, he realised, the better.

***

To Be Continued...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

10. In The Mood For Dancing

Chapter Summary: The day of the dance dawns, a baby arrives, a phoenix is named and Dumbledore finds himself in a sticky
situation as the war looms ever closer.

*

Chapter Ten- I’m In The Mood For Dancing

Saturday dawned bright and early, and on hearing the first girlish giggles from her roommates, Hermione groaned and
headed for the library. She had found healing magic to be a great deal more complicated than other forms, and it was
much more important to get right than if she were enlarging pumpkins. She was glad for today, she told herself. Most
people had gone off to Hogsmeade in preparation for the dance and the library was nearly deserted. Armed with a note
signed by both Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, Hermione was allowed to roam free in the Restricted Section.
After seven years, Madam Pince had got to know Hermione and trusted her well enough to be in there on her own. She was
glad of the solitude, although it also left her with the space to think about Harry and what he might be doing now.

***

Eight o’clock sped towards them with quite unusual rapidity. The girls of Hogwarts primped and preened while the boys
dug out their dress robes and attempted to tame cowlicks. Ron was actually quite pleased with the way his blue Order
robes looked, while Harry chose to wear the green robes Mrs Weasley had sent him in the Fourth year. They’d needed to be
lengthened and adjusted several times since then, but he still loved them.

“Ready Harry?” asked Ron.

“Nearly,” he said, smacking down his hair one last time. He sighed. “Yes. Who are you taking?”

“Oh, Lavender.”

“Not Padma?” Harry asked with the shadow of a smile.

“No. She’s been going out with some other Ravenclaw for months now. Besides, I don’t think she was too impressed with me
at the Yule Ball.”

“What about Parvati, then?” asked Harry, trying valiantly to take an interest in the evening.

“Some Hufflepuff.”

“Dean?”

“Blaise Zabini.”

“Really?” Harry asked, both surprised and a little impressed. Perhaps there was hope for Gryffindor-Slytherin relations
after all.

“Yes. Seamus is taking Ginny, of course.”

“And how does Big Brother feel about that?”

“Fine, thank you. I’ll save my over-protective routine for another night.”

“She threatened you with bodily harm?”

“Earlier, yeah.” Ron then grinned wickedly. “She didn’t ask Fred or George though. Or Bill or Charlie or Percy.”

Ron picked up the flowers he’d purchased for Lavender in Hogsmeade and opened the door to the boys’ dorm.

“Come on then, Harry.”

“Fine.”

They headed down to the common room. Lavender smiled up at him, looking pretty in pastel pink robes. Maura was also in
the common room, not wearing robes but a smart pinstripe suit. Her hair was actually wavier than usual, while several
small plaits had been woven into her hair here and there. She looked quite striking as always.

“I had to borrow this off Anne Marie,” she explained. “I don’t have anything fancy.”

“You look really nice,” he managed to say.

“Thanks. All Anne Marie’s doing.”

“I like the hair.”

“Yeah. She watched Braveheart before coming here. Said it was Celtic or something.”

“Well, it’s really... nice.”

“Oh, you ladykiller, you,” laughed Maura. He blushed slightly.

“Sorry... I just...” Maura took his arm and smiled at him.

“I know, Harry. I know. Let’s go. Sooner we get there, the sooner we leave, right?”

They walked out of the portrait hole and began walking down in the direction of the Great Hall.

“So, you don’t want to go with me?” asked Harry. She made a peculiar face at him.

“It’s not that. I’m not really a party sort of person. Never got invited to many, even when I was a kid. When I did I
usually made the birthday girl cry.”

“I know the feeling. I was invited to some when I was little but Aunt Petunia never let me go. She said I’d disgrace
her.”

“Well then, we’re set. I can offend everyone and you can turn them into toads. Look on the bright side Harry, at least
we won’t be expected to dance.”

***

“Harry!” shouted Sirius as soon as Harry and Maura went into the crowded Great Hall. It looked much as it had for the
Yule Ball although the vibes were clearly more relaxed. It wasn’t a ball so much as it was a party.

“Hey Sirius!” he called. “You’re looking sharp tonight.”

Sirius did look good. His hair was back to its usual black colour while his robes looked to Harry to be the same colour
as Padfoot’s fur, albeit with red and gold trim.

“Thanks. I need to ask you a favour.”

“What?”

“We need someone to kick off the dancing and-”

“I don’t dance,” Harry cut in immediately.

“But Harry...”

“I don’t dance.”

“Please, Harry, think about it.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Maura, will you talk to him?”

“I don’t dance,” she said, echoing Harry. Sirius sighed and she continued, “Why don’t you kick it off?”

“I’m not the figurehead of the whole campaign,” Sirius explained.

“So?” asked Harry, temper flaring suddenly. “I don’t dance! Deal with it!” He then stomped off in the direction of the
food table. Maura and Sirius shared a worried look.

“What’s the matter with him?” asked Sirius.

“Do I look like Hermione to you?” she said. Sirius shook his head. “There you go.”

“Oh, I see. I think a lot of people would appreciate Harry starting the dancing. I know it seems a bit stupid, but they
all look up to him and...”

“I’ll talk to him, OK? Just so long as we don’t have to dance much,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“Thank you.” Sirius grinned charmingly at her and went off in the direction of Narcissa and Remus. After a moment, Harry
returned with two glasses of pumpkin juice. On her look, he spoke.

“We have to dance, don’t we?” he asked resignedly.

“Yeah.”

“I just wish... I just wish that I wasn’t anything important,” he told her. “I wish I’d grown up with my mum and dad and
come to Hogwarts as just another kid. As just Harry Potter. I wish I’d been able to just play Quidditch and go out with
Hermione without her getting kidnapped and...” he trailed off with an angry exhalation of air. Maura took his hand and
looked him squarely in the eye, ice blue meeting warm but sad green.

“I know that. I wish that I’d grown up with a human heart instead of a Grinchy sized heart. I wish that I’d been nicer
to my family. I wish I’d never been picked to save the world. I wish that I’d fallen in love with someone not idolised
by my best friend. I wish that George hadn’t died to save me. I wish that George at least knew about Deirdre. I wish
that I’m not facing a life alone because I can’t ever love anyone else. But so what? Since when do we get to choose? We
don’t get to choose, my boy.”

“It’s not fair,” he mumbled. She just laughed.

“Of course it isn’t! That’s not how life works. We’re all the walking wounded. Some of us just have worse wounds.”

“But...”

“I know, Harry. Everything you’re thinking now, I’ve already done it. Just... The way I see it, we can just collapse and
let the world win, or we can stand up and fight.”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been training for?”

“Exactly. Don’t want to waste all your hard work, do you?” she asked. He smiled slightly and shook his head. “There you
go! Nothing but a temporary lapse, Harry. We all get them.”

“Yeah right.”

“Yeah. I just don’t let anyone see.”

“Aren’t you lonely?”

“Absolutely. But it says in the Hero Handbook that I’m not allowed such luxuries.”

“Don’t talk about the Hero Handbook as if there’s such a thing,” he laughed.

“There is!”

“There is not.”

“There is so! It’s like the Girl Guide handbook without the instructions on how to pitch tents.”

“Liar. You were never a Girl Guide.”

“No I wasn’t. Kat was though. Knew a lot about knots and elementary First Aid.”

“Harry!” Sirius came bounding over again. “Please start the dancing?” Sirius turned on his most charming smile.

“Fine,” he grumbled, standing up. He turned to Maura. “Might I have this dance, milady?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” She took his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. The music
started- quite a slow song. They danced together, although they weren’t particularly close.

“She’s still up in the library?” Maura asked as more people swarmed onto the dance floor. Harry didn’t need to ask who
she was talking about.

“Yes. I looked in earlier. She’s barricaded herself in the Restricted Section surrounded by books.”

“She knows why you broke up with her, you know.”

“She told me that.”

“Don’t you think it might still have hurt her quite a lot?”

“I know. But I didn’t know what else to do. I figured if she hated me, she wouldn’t be so sad when I died.”

“You’re not going to die. I mean we all die, but you’re not doing it any time soon.”

“Sometimes I actually believe that.”

“You’re a great wizard, Harry.”

“Hermione told me that once. Then she hugged me. Then I went off to face unspeakable evil. It’s the same story every
time. That’s why I broke up with her.”

“You’re an idiot,” Maura growled.

“Thanks.”

“You’re so obsessed with dying that you’ve forgotten to live in the meantime. I’d give anything to have just five more
minutes with George.” Maura now looked at him coldly. The song ended and she walked away to where Ron was sitting with
Lavender, Seamus and Ginny. Harry sighed and headed off the dance floor.

***

Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly and checked her watch. The music had begun at eight, and although the library was a
distance from the Great Hall, the music was still quite clear and had been distracting her. She conjured up images of
the party in her mind. Harry, looking almost illegally handsome in green, complementing the flame-haired beauty with
him. In this image she had in her head, Maura had been transformed from her usual don’t-care tomboyish self into a siren
more beautiful than Aphrodite or Helen of Troy. It wasn’t the first time Hermione had felt jealous of Maura, but it was
certainly the most painful. She liked Maura when the other girl thawed out enough to get close to, but the fact remained
that she was pretty, occasionally outgoing and she was down in the Great Hall as the date of Harry.

“Knut for your thoughts?” a voice broke into her glum imaginings. She looked up to see Harry, looking almost illegally
handsome in green, leaning against the gate into the Restricted Section.

“Save your money,” she said, purposely looking back down at her book. He opened the gate and went inside. He sat down
opposite her and snatched the book away.

“Harry,” she said irritably, “I’m very busy. Leave me alone. Go back to the dance.”

“Don’t want to. It’s pretty boring.”

“What about your date?” spat Hermione, unable to mask her jealousy any longer. She was tired and unhappy and wanted out
of this conversation.

“The date you told me to get?” he asked pointedly. “She’s annoyed with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t really want to be there.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Thought you might like a dance.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I danced with Maura. I’d like a dance with my best friend.”

“Really? So why aren’t you dancing with Ron?”

“Too tall for me,” Harry gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

“I’m very busy.”

“We don’t have to leave the library. Just one dance. Please.”

“Fine.” she stood up and moved around the table into his waiting arms.

The song down in the hall changed to a slow song, for which Harry would be eternally grateful. Hermione relaxed into his
arms until there was no space between them. They swayed to the music, all thoughts of war or even anything outside that
Restricted Section gone from their minds. For now at least, all that remained was Harry and Hermione.

***

The morning after was a different story, however. News came from Paris that Voldemort’s forces had attacked Beauxbatons.
The faculty at the school had been preparing for some time thanks to advice from ‘Dumbly-dorr’ and had been able to get
their students out before the school itself was destroyed. The message to Hogwarts was clear: You’re Next. By
mid-afternoon, displaced students and staff from the Parisian school were arriving at the increasingly crowded Hogwarts.

“Blimey,” Ron said to the morose looking Harry as they watched the Beauxbatons carriage empty its cargo from a bench by
the fountain. Crowds of people filled the lawn, milling about, unsure what to do.

“Is that Fleur?” Ron asked Harry, pointing to a distinctive looking blonde who was dabbing tears away from her eyes.

“I thought she left school already.”

“She did. Maybe it’s her sister. What was her name, Gabrielle?”

“Yes. They don’t seem to know where to go. Should we go down there?

“Nah. I’m enjoying the view,” Ron said with a somewhat leering smirk. A dark haired girl detached herself from the crowd
and walked purposefully towards them.

“Hey there,” said the girl in an English accent. “Don’t suppose you know the way to the Great Hall?”

“Suppose we do?” Ron shot back in a teasing manner. She glared at him dangerously.

“Listen, little boy, we’re all bloody tired and hungry and most of those kids are terrified. How about you stop being a
total wanker and tell us where we need to go?”

“Um... OK?” asked Ron, taken by surprise at her rather forthright manner. She smiled tightly.

“Thanks ever so.” She turned and walked back to the group, leaving Ron and Harry no other option but to follow. She then
spoke to the group in French before turning back to Ron.

“Right then, show us the way,” she demanded of him in clipped tones.

“It’s up here,” said Ron in a quiet voice and the boys led them into the castle and into the Great Hall, where
Dumbledore was in a spirited discussion with Madam Maxime.

“Ah thank you Ron, Harry,” he said with twinkling eyes. He then asked the Beauxbatons students in French to sit down and
make themselves comfortable.

“Thanks,” said the girl in a slightly friendlier tone. “You are?”

“Ron, Ron Weasley,” he said, recovering enough to put on the Weasley charm. “Nice to meet you. I think.”

“Deanna Lynott. Nice to meet you. Sorry for shouting,” she said with a bright smile.

“S’all right,” he said, his ears turning pink. “This is Harry Potter,” he said, waving a hand at Harry. Deanna looked
unimpressed as she cast her gaze over Harry.

“Hi,” she said quite shortly. Harry smiled at her in greeting before turning to his friend.

“Ron, we’ve got to meet Maura in a minute.”

“OK. Well, bye then, uh, Deanna.”

“Bye.”

***

They were kept busy over the next few days, especially after a shipment of weapons arrived from America. Boxes of all
shapes and sizes were strewn around the room and the soldiers of the Phoenician Army were all busily checking the
weapons inside them. Maura and Hermione were also there checking for jinxes and curses before adding them to the
inventory.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked as he and Ron arrived.. Both of them blanked him. He sighed and moved away from them.

“How did you manage to get two girls not talking to you?” Ron asked him quietly. Harry sighed.

“Maura’s annoyed with me because I won’t put Hermione into danger. Hermione’s annoyed with me because I won’t put
Hermione into danger. Want to make the third a charm?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Ron said with an ill-concealed smirk. He then turned to the girls and he repeated Harry’s question.
“What’s going on?”

Maura pointed to a large box.

“They need checking for all known jinxes, curses and hexes. Then you add them to this list,” she handed Ron a long sheet
of parchment.

“We’re on it,” said Harry, opening the box. The box was stuffed full of short swords Harry recognised from History of
Magic as a ‘gladius’, the sort used by gladiators in Ancient Rome. He began stripping them down as Flitwick had taught
them, checking for any foul play.

“Harry!” called McGonagall, looking quite stressed. “Professor Dumbledore would like to speak to you,” she said,
pointing to where Dumbledore was sat in his usual chair. He went over to the old man.

“Professor?” he asked. Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled and he smiled at Harry.

“I have something for you, something I think you might find useful,” he said. He pointed at the sword in front of him.
Its ruby-encrusted hilt sparkled in the light.

“Gryffindor’s sword?” asked Harry. Dumbledore nodded.

“You’ve used it to great effect before, after all.”

“Thank you, Professor. Thank you,” Harry stammered, slightly overwhelmed by the faith Dumbledore was putting into him.

“Use it well Harry.”

“I will, Professor,” Harry said sincerely, before heading back to Ron and Maura.

“What’s that?” asked Ron. Harry said nothing, but exhibited the hilt, upon which the name Godric Gryffindor was
engraved. They all looked suitably impressed.

“Dumbledore just gave it to me,” Harry explained. Maura and Hermione, forgetting that they weren’t talking to him, came
over curiously.

“Is that meant to be your weapon of choice?” asked Hermione, examining the fine craftsmanship of the sword. Harry just
nodded. She seemed to remember that she wasn’t talking to him and turned away. Forgetting all about the job he was
supposed to be doing, he sat next to her.

“What is it I’m meant to have done?” he whispered to her. She said nothing. “Come on, Hermione, what is I did?”

“Harry,” she hissed. “You know exactly what you did.”

“Well, obviously I don’t, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Well, how about I refresh your memory?” she said sarcastically. “I had just returned from being kidnapped by a raving
lunatic. Remember that, do you?”

Harry nodded glumly.

“Good. Then the day after that, I was dumped by the one person I ever cared about. And ever since then, I’ve had no idea
what you think or what you feel.”

“Yes you do.”

“No, I don’t. You know, sometimes it feels like we’re back to normal or something. Like the other night. Sometimes
you’re so distant I hardly recognise you. Sometimes I don’t even feel like we’re best friends anymore. If you didn’t
have to put up me with because of the bonding, I don’t think you’d even want to be in the same room as me. Now, you’re
wondering what you’ve done?”

“No, I suppose not,” he said with a sigh. “Does it mean anything if I tell you that hurting you was the last thing I
meant to do?”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his unyielding gaze.

“Maybe,” she answered after a long pause. She got up. “Maybe if I had my best friend back, it would.”

“You always had him, Hermione,” he replied. She gave a weak, perhaps disbelieving smile before heading out of the Great
Hall.

It took the better part of the day for everyone to check every weapon in the arsenal before then distributing them to
those who would be fighting. They weren’t going to take any chances by depending solely on their wands, and every person
preparing to fight would be armed as well. Intelligence reports came in daily of increased Death Eater activity, and on
the Muggle news there was a report about a herd of winged horses making their way north past Wolverhampton. Shipments
from Diagon Alley were cut off completely.

***

Harry took to carrying Gryffindor’s sword with him at all times, for immediate use when the time came. He wore it in a
silver scabbard attached to his belt, which with his flowing robes, made him look like Don Juan or one of the
Musketeers. He wasn’t the only one to stay prepared at all times, either. With the aid of Professor Snape, the four
brewed nutrition healing potions and each carried several vials around with them in pouches attached to their belts.
Maura had her own weaponry to add to their vast, growing collection. They both constantly wore protective dragon-hide
trousers and boots under robes, looking rather like Hells Angels with swords.

“What’s that?” Harry asked Maura. She’d just come into the Great Hall for dinner and was carrying a beautiful old shield
and a sword as finely crafted as Gryffindor’s.

“This is the Connaught Shield,” she said, brandishing the shield proudly. It was made of wood, and had to be magical in
some proportion, for it was surely too old to still remain intact. The image of a warrior queen with wild hair, fierce
eyes and a fiercer expression was engraved on a bronze disc secured onto the front. “The face is Queen Maeve in battle,
I think. I don’t know when this was made, but I reckon it was made after she died. I had to find this last year. It was
in a cave. It’s enchanted as well. Only the Heir of Maeve can wield it, you know. Lucky, lucky me.”

This last part was said with a definite edge to her voice.

“Are you all right, Maura?” asked Ron. She paused for a moment, her expression barely readable.

“Fine. I’m just keyed up. I want to get this fighting thing started.”

“Do you like fighting?” asked Hermione, curious about the slightly strange look on Maura’s face. Maura paused again.

“I don’t like killing. I don’t like spilling blood. But.... But there’s something thrilling about being in battle, as if
it’s all I was ever really meant to do. If I could do it without people being hurt, I might like it,” she looked ashamed
of herself and a little confused. “It’s not bloodlust. It’s... something else, less tangible.”

“What’s the sword?” asked Harry, sensing the need to change the subject. Maura put the highly jewelled sword on the
table. Like Gryffindor’s sword, it was encrusted with rubies.

“This is the sword of Ulster. It belonged to Conochobar and the Red Branch kings, hence all the rubies. And at least
we’ll coordinate on the battlefield. So important, don’t you think?” she asked with a short laugh which was returned by
Harry.

“Why do you have it?” asked Hermione. “You’re the Heir of Connaught.”

Maura cleared her throat and recited:

“Heir of Maeve, Warrior Queen of Connaught, Commander of the Armies of the West. Mother and guardian of the Heir of
Ulster. As such, until Deirdre comes of age, I am the Commander of the Armies of the North, should they ever be called
upon. I’m the... Regent of Ulster, if you like.”

“Regis,” Hermione corrected automatically. “Female form of Regent.”

“You should have business cards made,” cracked Ron. Maura smirked.

“It doesn’t mean anything really,” she said. “Except that I get to use this smashing sword.”

Maura fixed the shield onto her back as if it were a rucksack and like Harry, carried the Ulster sword around with her
in a scabbard. They made a rather intimidating pair as they went about their business: two warriors ready for battle.
Everyone in the Castle knew varying amounts about the battle plans, but the one thing that everyone knew was that Harry
Potter and his red-headed friend Maura would be fighting Voldemort very soon. Many people in the castle avoided the
pair, perhaps a little afraid of what they were capable of.

***

“I wish something would happen!” Ron exclaimed noisily. Hermione slammed her book down onto the table and glared at him.
Madam Pince glared at them.

“That’s the fifteenth time you’ve said that, and for the fifteenth time will you shut up!” she yelled. A furious
argument looked ready to explode between the two and neither Harry or Maura knew exactly how to diffuse it. Harry
watched the two argue, the tension escalating rapidly and felt a sudden need to be sick. He was going to be fighting
Voldemort any day now. He might even die. Hermione and Ron might die. He might never see Hermione or Ron again. He might
never see Hermione again and here they were, all arguing over nothing. Harry stood up abruptly and shot off towards the
Prefects’ Bathroom.

“Great. Bloody brilliant,” said Maura in a dry, sarcastic voice. “Why don’t you try sticking pins into his eyes too?”

“What did we do?” asked Ron hotly. Maura sighed.

“Oh, nothing. I heard that Harry really enjoys watching his two best friends tear each other to shreds right before we
might all die.”

Ron and Hermione shared a worried, apologetic look. Ron stood up.

“I’ll go and find him.”

***

“Harry? Harry are you in here?” called Ron, his voice bouncing off the walls of the Quidditch changing room. He was
running out of places to look for his friend and was hoping he’d find Harry soon. Wherever he was, however, it wasn’t
here. Ron went back outside, inhaling the scent of spring at nightfall. Hogwarts was a beautiful place, he thought for
the thousandth time. In the corner of his eye, he saw a sudden flash of gold. He spun around, but there was nothing save
for the Forest in that direction.

Again, a flash of gold flickered in Ron’s peripheral vision. He smiled and quickly transformed into his Bengal tiger
form. He bounded over towards the Forest. Although he’d always been rather fearful of the Forbidden Forest, especially
after meeting Aragog (the tiger shivered at the memory), in his four-legged form he felt no such fear. He was so much
bigger than a lot of the beings in the forest and had sharper teeth. He went into the forest and sniffed the air. In his
animagus form, he could pick up Harry/Rex’s scent quite easily. He followed it for a while, finally finding the lion
sitting at the foot of an oak tree. He padded up to him and settled down beside him.

Rex looked at the Bengal tiger with sad eyes. The tiger lifted a paw and rested it on the lion’s shoulder. Rex’s head
slumped onto his own paws and he let out a half-roar, half-sigh. The two big cats sat in silence, if not the kings of
the jungle, then the kings of this forest.

After a while sitting in contemplative silence, the two big cats got up and wandered back to the castle. Changing back
into their human selves, they went inside. They turned a corner to find Percy and George outside a door.

“What’s up?” asked Ron. Percy’s eyes were wild with panic while George’s sparkled with amusement.

“Penelope... She’s... um....” he stuttered, seeming a thousand miles away from the usually composed Percy. George filled
in for him.

“Penny’s having the baby.”

“So that’s what that bump was,” joked Ron. “I just thought she’d eaten all the pies.”

“Shut up, Ron,” said Harry on Percy’s panicked and annoyed look. “Is she all right, Percy?”

“Yes Harry. I think so. Mum kicked me out half an hour ago.”

“He was getting in the way,” added George with a wicked grin. The door swung open with a bang. Molly Weasley stood in
the doorway, a grin on her face.

“Do you want to come back in, Percy?”

“Yes I do,” he said in his usual stuffy manner.

“Only if you promise to behave,” Molly insisted before turning to Ron and Harry. “Hello boys. No point waiting round
here, it’s going to take a while. We’ll send Hermes to you when the baby’s born.”

“All right Mum,” said Ron. “We’re off to the kitchens for some pie.”

Ron then began walking briskly down the hall and Harry could only rush after him. Ron paused suddenly and fixed Harry
with a stern look.

“Feel better now?”

“A bit,” Harry admitted. “I think we’ll all feel better once this is all over and done with.”

“I know what you mean. Harry?”

“Yes Ron?”

“Are you scared of dying?”

“No. Not really. I’m more worried about everyone else. You, Sirius, Maura... Hermione. I’m not hungry,” he said
suddenly. He turned abruptly before walking back outside. Ron could only follow, bemused. He rushed after Harry.

“What’s the matter, Harry?”

“I don’t want... I don’t think I could stand it if all this was destroyed,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in the air.

“I know that, Harry. That’s why we’ve been working so hard.”

“I know that, I know. But... but what if we still lose? Where does it say that the good guys always win?”

“I don’t know.”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before the sound of phoenix song filled the air. In the distance, they saw a
bright red bird soaring across the skies.

“Hermione?” asked Ron.

“Who else?”

“Seems that she got over her fear of flying,” remarked Ron.

“She looks.... She looks like a flame,” said Harry, looking up at the phoenix with awe.

“A flame? Ironic, seeing as that’s what phoenixes do. They burst into flames.”

The phoenix appeared to notice them and swooped down, landing neatly at their feet. Harry bent down to fluff it’s
feathers.

“We’re going to call you Flame,” he said. The phoenix stepped away and transfigured back into Hermione.

“Flame?” she asked, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” said Ron. “What were you doing out here?”

“Thinking.”

“I’m sorry for winding you up,” he said. She smiled.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

“Why don’t we go for a walk or something? Just the three of us,” suggested Harry. Hermione smiled sweetly, taking his
arm with her right hand and Ron’s with her left hand. Then laughing, the trio walked towards the sunset.

They walked, talked, joked and laughed for what seemed like hours. They must’ve circled the lake six times when Percy’s
trusted owl Hermes swooped towards them. He paused only long enough for Ron to take his note before rushing off again.
Ron unfurled the note and read it aloud.

“It’s a boy. Percy’s called it Percy,” read Ron. “Typical of Percy to name the kid after himself.”

The news of the new baby lightened the mood of the entire school, although almost immediately the baby and his exhausted
mother were secreted in a ‘safe’ part of the school. Harry wondered where exactly could be considered safe in the
current climate, but there were a lot of weird places in the castle.

***

It came out of the blue two days later. Everyone was on their way to class or to whatever their tasks for the afternoon
might be. The corridors of Hogwarts heaved with students and adults, reflecting the school’s swollen numbers. Then
suddenly, McGonagall’s magically amplified voice called out.

“Everyone is to return to their dormitories at once! All teachers are to go to the Staff Room immediately.”

The halls of Hogwarts were suddenly very quiet and still. Then everyone sprang into action, running here and there,
trying to obey the Deputy Headmistress’ orders.

Only three people did not. Harry, Hermione and Ron stayed still, wondering whether to obey or find out what was going
on. It took them a full two seconds to decide and then they headed off to the Staff Room. Remus and Arabella were
standing guard, evidently expecting Harry and his friends.

“Go to your dorm, Harry,” Remus told him. Harry looked at him and shook his head.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Remus and Arabella shared a brief look before stepping away from the door.

“Talk to Professor McGonagall,” Arabella said reluctantly. The three went into the staff room.

“What are you doing here, Potter?” snarled Snape.

“I’ve come to talk to Professor McGonagall,” Harry replied in a tone half-respectful and half a little scornful of
Snape.

“What do you want Potter?” McGonagall asked in a distracted tone. She looked particularly worried and rather panicky- a
trait uncharacteristic of her.

“What’s going on, Professor?” he asked in a rather more gentle way than he’d used with Snape.

“Oh, it’s just... I don’t really know...” she collapsed into a chair. Hermione rushed to her side.

“Are you all right Professor?” she asked, alarmed at this most un-McGonagall like behaviour. McGonagall nodded.

“I’m fine. But Professor Dumbledore...” she trailed off. Snape cut in.

“He’s been poisoned somehow.”

“Poisoned?” exclaimed Ron. “Is he-”

“No, he’s not dead, Weasley. But we don’t know what poisoned him and therefore we don’t know how to cure him.”

Snape’s usual sneering demeanour had disappeared, leaving only a man unable to use his expertise to help a friend.
Hermione jumped up.

“Well, what are we waiting for? We’ll go to the library for answers.”

“It’s not that simple, Miss Granger,” Snape told her. “First we must find a way to keep the Professor from dying. And we
need to know what he was poisoned with first. Madam Pomfrey is doing her analysis now.”

“Yes, Professor. But we can still be reading,” she said with an over-bright smile. She squeezed Professor McGonagall’s
hand and then jumped up. “Well, you know where I’ll be.”

Then Hermione, possessed by that spirit which claimed her in times of crisis, sprinted to the library.

***

It took Madam Pomfrey another three hours to finally be able to tell what poison Dumbledore had been given. Even then,
she was only able to tell Professor Snape that it was a hybrid potion derived from the Draught of the Living Dead,
Forgetfulness Potion and several others combined to keep Dumbledore incapacitated.

After scouring the Castle for clues, a half-empty bag of Sherbet Lemons sent to Dumbledore from Honeydukes were found to
have been infused with the poison. After questioning the owners of Honeydukes, it was discovered that there had been a
break-in the night before they sent the Professor his weekly batch of Muggle goodies.

It took Snape and Sprout hours more to manage to make an antidote, and even then all it did was enable Professor
Dumbledore to remain conscious. He was barely strong enough to sit up, let alone help fight. Whoever wanted the
Headmaster out of the picture had succeeded.

“They didn’t want him dead. Why?” Hermione mused. She, Harry and Ron were searching through the library for any ideas
for a full cure.

“Whoever it was knew that his death would anger more people,” Harry answered. “This way, he’s kept out of the way, we’re
distracted from war planning because we’re looking for a cure, but nobody’s out for revenge because he isn’t dead.”

“Well, I don’t think it’ll be too long before the Death Eaters turn up,” Hermione said. “They’ll want to strike while
he’s still incapacitated.”

“I’ve got a galleon that says it’s within a week,” said Ron.

***

To Be Continued...

------------------------------------------------------------------------

11. Once More Into The Breach, Dear Friends

Chapter Summary: The war has arrived at Hogwarts and the newly formed Diamond must step up to fight. Buckle your swashes
for the greatest duel since Robin Hood took on Sir Guy of Gisbourne, the best performance by a tiger since the Jungle
Book and the best performance by a blond since Some Like It Hot. Will our heroes make it out of the war intact, what
will happen to the Death Eaters marching on the castle? Read on to find out...

*

Chapter Eleven: Once More Into The Breach, Dear Friends

Ron collected his galleon. Five days after Dumbledore was poisoned, Fred Weasley came sprinting into the Great Hall as
everyone was tucking into lunch.

“Professor!” he called out, a little breathless. Harry and Hermione immediately shared a worried, understanding look.

“Fred?” asked McGonagall, rising from her seat beside the Headmaster.

“Fifty Death Eaters are at the gates. They’ve got a Manticore with them. And the dementors are with them.”

“We’re on it,” said Remus Lupin in a sombre voice as he and his team got up and rushed out of the Hall, stuffing
chocolate into their pockets. Panic began to build in the room.

“So it begins,” said the weakened Dumbledore in a soft, sad voice. He looked up and addressed the Hall. “It seems that
the war is now upon us. For those of you who will be fighting, you know what to do. For those of you who will not, you
are to follow Madam Pince to a place in the Castle where you will be safe. Good luck to all of you.”

The poison still kept Dumbledore very weak and he sank back into his chair.

The First, Second, Third and some of the Fourth years got up in scared silence and followed Madam Pince and Madam
Pomfrey out of the Hall. As soon as they had gone, those left burst into action. They were all well versed in their jobs
by now and did them with the minimum of fuss. Dumbledore murmured softly and every one of them was dressed in the purple
colour of the Phoenician Army. The simple spell left him even more drained and after a moment Madam Pomfrey came back in
to help him to safety.

The Diamond were the only people not rushing around. They were the calm at the eye of the storm, sitting together in
almost unnatural serenity.

“Well, it looks like we’re up at last,” said Ron with a weak smile.

“Yes,” said Hermione, her eyes not leaving Harry’s face. Maura drained her glass and stood up.

“Come on then,” she said, completely unruffled. “I mean, it’s nice weather for it.”

“Do you have to joke about it?” snapped Hermione.

“Come on Hermione,” said Maura quite gently. “War is the most ludicrous thing there is.”

“But people we care about might die.”

“So, we should go and stop that from happening,” replied Maura.

“Let’s go,” said Harry, the first thing he’d said since Fred came in. He stood up straight and tall, his face set in
determination. He pulled Gryffindor’s sword out of it’s sheath and began striding out of the room. The other three
paused for less than a second before following him outside.

***

Fred, only having been watching the gates, had underestimated the forces now attacking the school. Charlie and the
dragon team were already high in the air above Hogwarts and seemed to be concentrating on a group just beyond the
Forest. Remus and Arabella’s team were already upon the Manticore but were having difficulty trying to fight the beast
and the Death Eaters with it at the same time.

“All right,” said Harry authoritatively. “We all know what we have to do.”

“Where’s Voldemort?” asked Ron, finally able to say the name.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll fight up front. He’ll show himself sooner or later,” said Harry. “You two protect the Castle.”

“We will,” promised Hermione. Swarms of Death Eaters were heading up the grounds towards them.

“The wards are down,” Harry realised sadly. “He must be here somewhere.”

“Good luck everyone,” said Maura, eyes alight. She then ran down to greet the oncoming Death Eaters. Harry paused for a
moment.

“Aren’t you going, Harry?” asked Hermione in a small voice. He grasped her by the shoulders and kissed her in a manner
usually described as ‘searing’ in mushy romance novels. The kiss warmed her to the tips of her hair and the ends of her
toes and made her acutely aware of what she’d been missing for months. She never wanted to leave the warm security of
his arms and lips, she never wanted him to stop. After a moment, however, he pulled away.

“I do love you Hermione,” he whispered. “Always have.”

Then he flashed her a blindingly bright smile before heading off down the slope and into the fray.

Hermione watched dazedly as Harry ran down towards the Death Eaters. She blushed very slightly before smiling. The smile
then broadened into a wide, bright grin.

“I love you too,” she whispered. But now was not the time to dwell on such things and she forced herself to concentrate
on the task at hand.

***

The Death Eaters had originally thought that the Castle would be poorly defended. That was before hundreds of students,
teachers and other people began pouring out of the Castle, Harry Potter at their head with a red head who looked
particularly fierce. Fear began to creep into the hearts of the attacking Death Eaters.

“This must be a fashionable fight,” cracked Maura. “It’s drawn the finest people.”

Harry sniggered at that one. She then turned to him.

“Do we actually have a plan?” she asked as they walked purposefully towards the enemy.

“Uh... I was thinking we beat them up until they don’t get up again,” he said. Maura pondered this for a moment. She
pulled her shield from its place on her back and strapped it to her arm. Then she unsheathed her sword.

“Works for me,” she said with a smirk. She looked flushed with anticipation and excitement, now that the weeks and
months of planning were at and end. It was what she was born for. Harry watched her for a moment before realising that
he felt much the same way. There was something about going into battle that made exhilaration course through his veins,
filling him with nervous energy. He felt faintly guilty for feeling excited about something which might get people hurt
or killed, but he’d been waiting for this for so long. Waiting to destroy evil. Waiting, if he was honest, for revenge.

The Death Eaters fanned out across the field, wands out ready to attack. Harry wondered if they were waiting for some
sort of signal to begin, but before he could ponder it further, Lucius Malfoy appeared behind them and shouted at them.
The Death Eaters, who numbered at least one hundred men and women, charged at the purple-clad Phoenician Army. The Army
spread out to each take on a Death Eater. The battle began in earnest as swords and wands clashed furiously.

“This is usually the point where we make smart remarks to show how fearless we are,” breathed Maura as she dodged a
curse. Harry swung his sword in the direction of a Death Eater.

“Do we have to? I’d really prefer to concentrate on not dying,” he shouted back.

“Fair enough,” she said, swinging her own sword at a Death Eater that Harry recognised as MacNair, the former Ministry
executioner. And the battle raged on.

***

The battle was fierce on both sides. As time moved on the Phoenician Army’s ranks began to break and Death Eaters were
able to run up the slopes towards the Castle. Hermione and Ron were called on now. Every scrap of training they had now
came into play as they were forced to fight magically and physically. There was no opportunity for banter anywhere on
the grounds of Hogwarts as the battle raged on and the grass became stained with blood.

Ron was tiring, he knew it. He had nutrition potions in his cloak, but he had no opportunity to stop and drink. His arms
ached and he wondered if shamans usually had to actually join in the fighting. He was shouting curses and hexes at
anyone not wearing purple, turning and jumping around dodging everything thrown at him.

“Expell-” he stopped abruptly as he came face to face with Deanna Lynott.

“Expell-” she too was about to shout a curse. Both of them stopped as they realised their mistake. The battle was
getting to them. Deanna looked as tired as Ron felt.

“We’re on the same side,” Ron reminded her with a smirk. She stuck her tongue out at him before running off down the
hill towards a group of Death Eaters.

***

“Where the bloody Hell is he?” yelled Maura, stabbing a Death Eater more or less in the gut.

“What, Voldemort?” Harry yelled back. “He’ll be here. I’m sure he’d like us to be nice and knackered for when he turns
up.”

“Well, I hope he turns up soon. This is getting dull,” she said, spinning around in an almost ballet-esque manner to
dodge a Death Eater’s knife.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” shouted Harry as he hit a Death Eater in the face, breaking his nose which resulted in a fountain of
blood covering Harry. “Are we keeping you from something more interesting?”

Maura just grinned as she casually dodged an Avada Kedavra. Harry allowed himself a second to watch her. She was
fearless, truly fearless, as she ducked and dove in the fray. He had no such luxury, he realised as he too was forced to
dodge more curses.

***

After almost two hours of frenzied fighting during which almost equal numbers of Death Eaters and Phoenicians fell, the
Dark Mark could be seen hovering menacingly over the Forest. Harry saw it almost immediately.

“Maura!” he shouted. After dispatching another Death Eater, she turned to look.

“Time to go, is it?” she inquired. He nodded, pulling a tiny little broomstick from inside his cloak. With a quick
spell, the broom grew into it’s full size.

“Get on,” he told her. She swung her leg over and grabbed onto his waist. The Firebolt shot up into the air above the
fighting. He shot off some purple sparks with his wand: the signal that he and Maura were leaving the battle to find
Voldemort.

“They’re going!” Hermione shouted to anyone nearby. Her heartbeat was already racing enough from fighting, but there was
still room for it to quicken as she watched Harry fly away. The battle seemed to pause for a second as everyone on both
sides watched the two warriors fly towards the forest. But then the war was back on and there was no more room to think
of Harry and Maura. Hermione was forced back against a wall as a Death Eater advanced on her. As she fumbled for her
wand, the Death Eater crumbled to the floor in a heap. Ron was standing behind, wand smoking.

“All right, Hermione?” he asked with a roguish grin entirely out of keeping with their current situation.

“Fine Ron,” she replied with an equally impish grin as she dispatched another Death Eater about to come behind Ron.

***

Harry steered the Firebolt through the sky as he and Maura searched for Voldemort. After a few minutes in which they
were able to catch their breaths after the hectic battle below, Harry caught sight of a clearing he’d never noticed in
all his flights over Hogwarts. Steering the broom closer, Harry’s Quidditch trained eyes caught sight of a flicker.
There, in the centre of the clearing, stood Lord Voldemort.

Harry set the broom down some distance away from the clearing, thinking quite irrationally that he didn’t want Voldemort
to destroy his beloved Firebolt. He and Maura readied their weapons and headed towards their combined destiny.

Harry had imagined this moment many times and although there were many variations, this was not one of them. It was so
incredibly simple in the end. He and Maura just walked into the clearing where Voldemort was waiting for them. No
fanfare, no fuss, just a good old face off against bad like in so many Westerns.

“Ah, Mr Potter,” hissed Voldemort. “We meet at last.”

Harry snorted with derision. “We’ve met before.”

“The Harry Potter I met before was a boy,” Voldemort said with a particularly evil smile. He looked at Maura with
extreme disdain. “Who are you, girl?”

“A friend.”

“I don’t need any more friends,” said Voldemort. Maura smirked almost as wickedly as him.

“I didn’t say I was yours.”

Voldemort laughed very slightly and Harry was suddenly reminded a little of the Bond movies Dudley and Vernon would
watch at Christmas when he was young.

“This girl has spirit,” said the Dark Lord. Maura retained her smirk.

“So I’ve been told,” she said.

“I take it Mr Potter has nominated you as his spokeswoman?” asked Voldemort in a scathing tone.

“Not so much,” she said, swinging her sword with almost careless precision. “I’m just here for some mindless violence.”

“Ah,” said Voldemort with understanding as he noticed the shield on her arm. “I was told that the Heir of Maeve had a
big mouth.”

“That’s public knowledge,” she returned quick as a flash. Harry had to admire her. He was shaking from anticipation and
fear now that this was finally happening, yet Maura seemed as unflustered as always. Then he noticed that her shield arm
was quivering very slightly. She wasn’t fearless: she was just better than him at pretending to be.

“You’ve come to avenge Lily Evans’ murder then, Muggle girl?” asked Voldemort. Maura just nodded. “It seems everyone
wants to do that. I wonder what it was about her?”

“She was sweet, kind, generous, loving and beautiful. All things you know nothing about,” answered Harry grimly.

“You really have grown up, Mr Potter.”

“Well, I try.”

“I’m told that the Mudblood had a lot to do with it,” said Voldemort. Harry chose to take Maura’s poker face philosophy.

“Yes. You could say that,” he replied, making a mental note to kill Voldemort that bit more painfully for bringing
Hermione into this.

“I’m bored. Can we fight now?” asked Maura.

***

Ron and Hermione met up on the outskirts of the Forest. Both looked shattered.

“The broom disappeared from sight five minutes ago,” she puffed, out of breath from the battle. Ron nodded. They caught
sight of a group of Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, heading towards the Forest.

“We can’t let them get to Harry and Maura,” Hermione said firmly. “You know what Lily said.”

“Yes. I was actually there, remember? But how do we stop them from crashing the party?”

“Well...” Hermione paused to think for a moment.

“Time is of the essence, Hermione.”

“I know that!” she snapped. “Right. OK. We’ll both transform. Nobody knows we’re animagi. Wonder what Lucius will think
when he comes face to face with an adult Bengal tiger?” Hermione smiled in a particularly wicked manner, and Ron
returned it.

“On it. You’ll be all right?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go and check on Harry and Maura-”

“Hermione, no.”

“I’ll be a phoenix. I won’t interfere, I promise,” she said before transforming into Flame and flying off.

“She’s said that before,” Ron muttered before transforming and bounding off in the direction of Lucius Malfoy.

***

“They must be around here somewhere,” said Lucius Malfoy sternly. “I saw the Mark.”

“The broom disappeared somewhere to the East of here, I’m sure sir,” said Goyle, one of the students who had left school
some time ago to join up with the Death Eaters.

“Shut up, Goyle,” growled Malfoy. Goyle closed his mouth abruptly, nervous that he had displeased Malfoy Senior. The
four other Death Eaters there smirked at the young Death Eater.

Just then, they heard a warning growl that could not possibly be human. From around a tree, a Bengal tiger slinked into
view. It seemed to smile at them.

“What is that?” asked Lucius. The tiger walked towards them, and they all took two long steps backwards.

“It’s... It’s a tiger, sir,” said Goyle. Lucius turned and hit him across the face.

“I know that, idiot boy. What is it doing here?”

They eyed the tiger warily, wondering if it intended to pounce or not. It remained perfectly still, staring at them
rather beadily.

“What should we do, Malfoy?” asked one of the Death Eaters that the tiger didn’t recognise.

“We need to get to Lord Voldemort. I don’t want him to face Potter alone.”

“Do you think that Potter can kill him?”

“No. But I’d like to make sure it’s impossible.”

Now the tiger did pounce. It was fleet of foot and the Death Eaters were caught off guard. The tiger relied on pure
instinct and quickly took out each of the Death Eaters. A voice in the back of its mind hoped that they were only
incapacitated, not dead. Then he moved towards Malfoy. The tiger knocked Malfoy to the ground and his claws dug into the
Death Eater’s shoulders. Malfoy screamed in pain.

“I thought you were better with pain,” called a voice. Both Malfoy and the tiger looked up. A few metres away stood
Draco Malfoy.

***

Hermione, as Flame flew above the trees, keeping close to the canopy of leaves for camouflage. She could smell burning
wood nearby and quite suddenly came upon the clearing. Voldemort was stood in the centre of it and Harry and Maura were
stood a few metres away from him.

“I’m bored. Can we fight now?” she heard Maura ask. Voldemort glared at her, his red eyes glowing. Flame moved closer to
Harry and Maura, being careful to remain in the shadows of the trees.

“I refuse to fight you, girl. You are nothing.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” said Harry with a reassuring smile for Maura. She just glared at Voldemort.

“I’m going to help kill you,” she growled. “And I’m going to have fun doing it.”

Voldemort laughed. It seemed quite a strange thing, to see this most evil of creatures laughing quite heartily. Maura
smirked back at him, but Flame noticed her hands tremble a little.

Flame noticed Maura crumble a little. She was born to fight and Voldemort was questioning her validity to do just that.
She recalled something she’d read: “Phoenix song is magical: it is reputed to increase the courage of the of the pure of
heart and to strike fear into the hearts of the impure.”

Flame wasn’t sure it would work completely, not knowing if Voldemort even had a heart anymore. But it was worth a shot.
She sang a single note loud enough for them to hear her. Harry and Maura exchanged a worried look but both noticeably
stood a little taller. Voldemort looked rather rattled by it.

“Where is the phoenix?” he hissed. “Dumbledore’s little pet has got in my way before.”

“It’s not Fawkes,” said Harry with a snicker. “I promise you that.” From yet another pocket in his robes, he drew out
the quill Hermione had given him. The red was a spot of colour in the smoky clearing. Voldemort now looked a little
fearful as he saw the red and purple of the feather.

“A friend gave this to me, you know,” Harry said in a conversational tone.

“There is a descendant of that... fool druid at Hogwarts?” hissed Voldemort.

“Have we found someone that you’re scared of?” asked Maura with a smile. “A druid? Please.”

“Shut up, girl!”

“He must be scared, Harry. Shut up really isn’t a classic retort.”

“Enough,” Voldemort demanded. “I want to kill you both.”

“Well, we want to kill you,” said Maura, waving her sword again. “So that works out just fine.”

She suddenly darted forward, catching Voldemort’s shoulder with the tip of her blade. In retaliation, he drew out his
wand.

“No wands,” said Harry, twisting his own wand in his hand. “Remember what happened last time?”

“Very well. We shall do this in the old-fashioned way,” Voldemort said with a nod, replacing his wand with a silver
sword. He stepped forward, as did Harry.

“No. Me first,” said Maura with a long stride forwards. She sneered at Voldemort. “I always wanted to be Errol Flynn.”
She swung her sword again, catching the sun with it. The light flickered brightly in Voldemort’s face and he recoiled
very slightly. She snorted with laughter.

“I always wanted to do that, an’ all,” she said, laughing.

“I wonder, girl, if your jokes disguise a lack of fighting ability?”

“Step up and find out, mate.”

The two swords met with an almost deafening crash. The sword fight began in earnest, silver flashes of light all that
really remained visible as they gained speed. Voldemort was a skilled swordsman, but Maura was quicker on her feet. She
was quite a skilled ‘swords-chick’ as she put it, but relied more on instinct and raw talent than her opponent. Harry
watched, ready to enter the fray at any time.

***

“Draco? What are you doing here?” Lucius sneered. Then he remembered his predicament and smiled at his son. He was
clearly not used to smiling, because it seemed more like an evil grimace than a smile. “Why don’t you give me a hand,
son?”

“Son?” Draco spat with unusual emotion in his voice and face. “Sod off.”

“Draco! What has got into you? What filthy lies has your mother been filling your head with?” Lucius, despite still
being pinned by a rather curious tiger, chose to inject as much venom into his words as possible. Draco dawdled over to
his father, a blank look on his face.

“Don’t ever talk about her again,” he said in a low, controlled voice. “Don’t even think about her.”

Draco’s grey eyes met his father’s identical eyes for a moment.

“It is our choices who make us who we are,” he said with a hint of a smirk on his lips. Then, quite suddenly, he swung
his leg back and kicked Lucius in the head. The elder Malfoy groaned out in both pain and surprise. His head rolled from
side to side for a moment.

“Guess what I chose?” Draco asked, the smirk now full on his face. Lucius looked at his son with a mixture of emotions.

“You’ve become a soft fool,” he managed to say through blood and pain. Draco kicked him again, genuine malice etched
onto his face.

“No. But the moment you destroyed my mother’s life, you became my enemy.” Draco kicked his father again. Lucius’s head
lolled as he fell into unconsciousness. Draco leaned over and grabbed his father’s wand. He snapped it into two pieces
with ease. He then pointed his own wand, muttered and soon enough, Lucius’ hands and feet were bound together. Draco
eyed the tiger warily.

“Want to rip me to pieces too?” he asked it. The tiger smiled and shook it’s head. “Good. Just checking.”

Then Draco Malfoy, his revenge taken and his choices made, headed back to the battle.

***

Flame had flown away from the clearing at the first sign of fisticuffs. She’d promised not to interfere and wasn’t sure
she’d be able to if she watched them fight. She didn’t transform back, instead choosing to fly over the battlefield to
reconnoitre.

It was quite a sorry scene. Perhaps half the people fighting for the Phoenician Army had fallen in one way or another
and the Death Eaters had made good progress towards the castle. Those purple-clad soldiers still standing looked tired
and dispirited. She could see Ginny Weasley only just manage to take care of a tall, mean looking Death Eater. Two
dragons had returned to their Quidditch pitch base, clearly injured badly. Only Charlie and Romana on Augustine were
even still in the air, although they all looked exhausted. But from her position high in the air, what could Flame do?

Flame sang. Recalling something from the near past, she sang a sweet, soaring song that many of the soldiers recognised
from a film they’d seen in the Great Hall. Lara’s Theme floated through the air of Hogwarts and filled the Phoenicians
with warmth and strength. She soared through the sky singing, hoping that Harry and Maura could hear her too.

Then suddenly, somewhere deep inside her heart, she felt Harry cry out.

***

After taking care of Malfoy Senior, Ron in Ron form emerged from the forest to continue fighting. He was surprised to
see how much ground the Death Eaters had covered in the time he’d been in the forest. Without a second’s pause, he
brandished his wand and ran straight at the nearest Death Eater. Then he heard phoenix song in the air. He smiled to
himself as the Death Eater recoiled at the sound.

“Problem, dear?” he asked the short female Death Eater before quickly dispatching her with a quick Stupefy. He then
looked up into the air, searching for a red bird.

“Nice one, Hermione!” he muttered with a grin.

Then suddenly, somewhere deep inside his heart, he felt Harry cry out.

***

The fight between Maura and Voldemort had been raging for a while now. They were more or less equally matched as sword
fighters and neither gave an inch. He had never seen Voldemort like this, forced into physical combat against an
opponent who would not back down. Harry had only ever seen Voldemort take on people he knew he could defeat easily with
an Avada Kedavra. Like Cedric Diggory. He shook his head. Now was not the time to linger on such thoughts.

Maura cried out in pain as Voldemort’s sword found her right arm. A nasty looking gash began to bleed and stain her
shirt red. She stumbled back and dropped the sword. Without hesitation, Harry darted forward to finally take on his
enemy.

“Harry Potter,” said Voldemort, showing only a few hints of fatigue. “Finally, we fight.”

“Yes. Can we skip your ‘We meet again Mr Bond’ stuff?” snapped Harry.

“Very well Mr Potter. I didn’t think you’d be in a rush to meet me.”

“I want to get on with my life, thank you,” Harry said as the fight began. He was glad of the hours Sirius had spent
with him teaching him the finer points of swordplay, because Voldemort was really quite good at this.

“Maura!” Harry shouted as he blocked Voldemort’s sword. “Are you all right?”

“Triffic, mate!” she said through gritted teeth. Her arm was bleeding furiously and she had slumped against a tree.

“Are you at Hogwarts or not? You’ve got potions haven’t you?” he shouted as he ducked Voldemort’s blade.

Maura cursed loudly at herself before pulling out a couple of vials. She drank the first, a healing potion, which didn’t
heal it completely, but it stopped the bleeding. Then she downed one of Hermione’s strawberry flavoured nutrition
potions.

“I’ll be ready in a minute, Harry!” she called to him. Harry had picked up the Sword of Ulster and now fought with a
sword in each hand. He looked every bit the dashing hero. Maura may have dreamed of being Errol Flynn, but Harry seemed
to have achieved it. He seemed to be dancing rather than fighting. If Maura had natural instinct, Harry seemed to have
the blood of generations of sword-fighters running through his veins. She realised that her role was to tire Voldemort,
even to irritate him, but not to kill him. Regardless of destiny or rules, Harry was the only one who could do it.

Then suddenly, somewhere deep inside her heart, she felt Harry cry out. A second later, she heard him yell in pain with
her own ears.

“Harry?” she shouted, looking up at him. Voldemort’s sword had caught him right across the chest and an ugly red cut
trailed from one side to the other. He was still upright, still fighting, but now it was an effort. This was not going
well.

***

“Harry?” called Hermione. Harry looked up. Where did that come from?

“Harry?” shouted Ron.

“Harry, it’s the binding, silly!” Hermione said in an exasperated tone.

“Is this all in my head?”

“Of course it is,” she replied.

“So if start talking to you out loud, Voldemort will think I’ve gone mad?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you in my head?” he asked.

“Because, Boy Wonder, we want to win the bloody war,” another voice joined them.

“Nice of you to join us, Maura,” said Ron dryly.

“This is very weird,” she said.

“You’re all in my head!” shouted Harry. Voldemort’s sword struck dangerously close to the hilt of his sword. “And you’re
really distracting!”

“Oh we’re very sorry,” said Maura dryly. “All we’re trying to do is help you.”

“How?”

“Power transference, Boy Wonder.”

“How does it work?” he asked. They all heard Hermione audibly sigh.

“Don’t you people ever read? Or even listen to me?” she asked. They each laughed.

“Not when we have you to do it all for us,” chirped Ron. The sound of Hermione snorting with disgust was heard by all
three.

“Right then. All of you just concentrate. Harry, you just have to focus on fighting Voldemort. Don’t think about being
hurt. Ron, Maura, we have to concentrate on sending power through the link. All right?”

“How do we do that?” asked Ron.

“Just think it, Ron,” said Hermione in a distinctly exasperated voice. “Ready?”

Harry concentrated all his energies on fighting Voldemort. Immediately, he felt better, although he knew nothing had
happened yet. Then quite slowly, he felt strength surging into him from an indefinable place somewhere within him. He
felt like he had a little of Hermione’s brains, Ron’s courage and loyalty, Maura’s fearless strength and whatever he had
combined with the power they had borrowed. The two swords of Gryffindor and Ulster became rather more like liquid
mercury extensions of his arms, glinting in the light as they swept through the air.

Voldemort was taken truly by surprise at Harry’s resurgence. He still had no idea about the binding and hadn’t expected
Harry to make a comeback. Harry quickly took control of the fight and soon the great Dark Lord Voldemort, the curse of
the magical community for nearly thirty years, was sword-less.

Harry didn’t stop there. After kicking Voldemort’s sword away, he dropped his own swords. He then threw a powerful
punch. Although Voldemort appeared to have no nose, whatever he still had definitely broke under the force of Harry’s
fist. The formerly invincible Voldemort fell to the ground. He had enough energy left to kick out at Harry. He was
unbalanced but didn’t fall down.

Maura had pulled herself up onto her feet, although she looked pale from blood loss. Harry mused quickly that he
probably looked much the same.

“Ready to dispatch the red-eyed git?” she asked. He nodded grimly.

“Let’s get this over with,” he replied. They took each other’s hands, but before they could do anything else, Voldemort
was back on his feet.

“Did you really think that you could defeat me so easily, boy?”

“Oh, of course not. We’ve had a bit of help,” said Harry breezily. Voldemort held up his hand and shot a curse at Harry.
He barely managed to dodge it and went to retaliate.

“Sod it,” growled Maura, pulling her dagger out of her boot before launching herself at Voldemort. She took him down and
a brief scuffle ensued before they broke apart.

“Irritating girl,” hissed Voldemort, blood pouring from a wound somewhere on his face.

“You’re not the first person to say that,” she said before jabbing at him with her dagger. Then she stumbled as he got
in a punch.

Not missing a beat, Harry ran at Voldemort as Maura had done, and the force knocked them both to the ground. Harry began
punching Voldemort over and over, not even noticing the cuts on his hands from doing so. Strength and anger surged
through him.

“You... killed... my mum... and dad... I’m... going to kill you,” he yelled. By this point, Voldemort seemed to be truly
defeated. Harry continued inflicting pain on the fallen Dark Lord until Maura yanked him away.

“Let’s do this properly,” she said quite gently. She took his hand and closed her eyes. He did the same.

“Do you remember what we were meant to say?” she asked with a grin. Harry held out his free hand, upon which he’d
scrawled several words meant as memory aids.

“Are you ready then?” came Hermione’s voice. “It’s still quite hairy out here.”

“I don’t like this mind-reading thing. I thought they said we couldn’t do that,” said Maura.

“Just for now when we need it. It’s not mind-reading, strictly speaking, I read about it in...”

“Not the time, Hermione,” said Ron as he entered the conversation.

“Right then,” Harry said to Maura.

“The diamond is ready. We have fought the darkness and now wish to banish it from this world,” they spoke together,
Hermione and Ron’s voices echoing in their heads from far away.

“We want to invoke the powers of old and defeat the darkness once and for all.”

“Heart,” said Harry.

“Soul,” added Ron.

“Head,” continued Hermione.

“And Spirit,” finished Maura. They felt power surge through them like nothing before, not even like it had been during
the ritual. A bright gold light like the one they’d seen form the diamond at the ritual emanated from Maura and Harry’s
linked hands. It shot out towards Voldemort.

Voldemort was not easily defeated. He had recovered during the pause and had even managed to get to his feet, although
he looked decidedly shaky on them and not at all like an all-powerful Lord of Darkness. When he saw the gold light
coming towards him, he finally gave up. Perhaps he knew exactly what was happening, perhaps he didn’t, but the former
Tom Riddle knew when he was beaten. The light filled the clearing, shooting out in great, bright beams to the skies and
all around them until both Maura and Harry had to shield their eyes with their free hands.

The light remained for minutes, and it was clear that Voldemort had been destroyed. Maura and Harry felt the borrowed
power leave them through the light until they felt weak and tired. Their injuries suddenly seemed more painful, and they
fell to the floor. Maura was the first to pass out, although Harry wasn’t far behind. In unconsciousness, their hands
remained together.

Hermione and Ron felt the power begin to leave them as the light became visible from the Forest. Although they felt pain
more keenly now, neither passed out. Everyone stopped to look at the sight, all somehow knowing exactly what it meant.
The remaining Death Eaters gave up the ghost and either allowed themselves to be stunned or outright surrendered. It had
been just as well. The reinforcements sent by the Phoenicians were stretched thin, and had the Death Eaters not given in
so easily, the battle could have easily raged for hours more.

***

There loomed an eerie stillness over Hogwarts as the dust and smoke cleared. Nobody was quite sure what had happened in
those last, terrifying moments of the battle. Which meant that nobody was quite sure what had happened to those in the
forest. People began to move towards the castle with the injured. Ron watched with a heavy heart as he watched the
clean-up begin.

“Sorry about earlier,” he heard a voice cut through his thoughts. He turned to see Deanna Lynott standing there. She had
blood smeared across her face, neck and shirt and seemed to be favouring her left leg.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking rather concerned.

“I think so. I just... just came to apologise for nearly attacking you earlier.”

“It’s all right. Same to you.”

“Well, we don’t seem to have got off to much of a start.”

“No, that’s true. We can start again if you like,” he said, thinking that he really should be looking for Hermione but
instead wanting more to talk to this girl.

“OK. I’m Deanna Lynott.”

“Ron Weasley. And this has been bugging me since you turned up: why were you at Beauxbatons if you’re English?”

“My mother teaches there. I actually left last year but stayed on as an Ancient Runes assistant and unofficial English
teacher. Don’t have clue what I’m meant to do now.”

“Are you going back to France?”

“Maybe. Haven’t decided yet.” Deanna smiled at him before wincing. “I meant to ask: where’s the hospital wing?”

“Ah, right... Go in through the main doors, take a left... tell you what, I’ll show you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled at him again. This time, he smiled back.

***

Uneasiness settled in the pit of Hermione’s stomach as she sank onto the slightly charred, muddy grass. Was Harry alive
or dead? Had he won, truly won? She remembered Maura’s description of fighting the Old Enemy, but instead of George
Richards flying through the air to heroic martyrdom, in her mind it was Harry.

Ron came and sat beside her, fresh from escorting Deanna Lynott to the hospital wing. Judging from the looks of him, the
Death Eaters he’d been battling had done quite a number on him.

“You look terrible,” she commented.

“I thought shamans got to miss the painful bits?” he asked wryly, rubbing a bruise on his shoulder.

“Let me,” she said gently. She waved her wand over his cuts and bruises and, using her newfound druidic skills, healed
him.

“You should be able to help with healing, Ron,” she said.

“I can only do little things,” he said.

“Yes, but look. Madam Pomfrey won’t be able to cope with all of this. We should help.”

Examining his limbs, Ron whistled.

“You can do more than simple stuff,” he said appreciatively.

“Sometimes. But my focus is all...”

“On Harry,” Ron guessed. “Mine too.”

“Yes,” she said. Together they sat in exhausted, worried silence. A fire had broken out and was now raging through the
Forest, and Hermione suspected that one of the dragons had missed a target slightly. The fire made the air thick with
smoke. Then, out of the murky black depths, a tall, powerful man came striding through the smoke, swinging Godric
Gryffindor’s sword quite casually.

Hermione’s eyes went as wide as saucers. This couldn’t possibly be her Harry! His black hair was matted with blood,
sweat and mud. A slow but sure trickle of blood was making its way down his face from somewhere above his left eye while
his shirt was soaked with blood from his chest wound. The clothes he’d been wearing were so tattered that Hermione
wondered if Harry and Voldemort had actually reached the hair-pulling, rolling around on the floor stage of battle.

But in that moment, Harry Potter looked every inch the strapping hero of which legends are made. The uncertainties of
the unloved boy in the cupboard, the guilt of the Boy Who Lived while his parents died, the pressure of being the boy
who would kill Voldemort... It was all gone.

In place of these were self-assurance, relief and a million other things Hermione couldn’t fathom. She was dimly aware
of Maura emerging from the smoke behind her, the Ulster Sword slung over her shoulder, but her whole focus was on Harry.
He walked purposefully through the crowds that had gathered, but he paid them no heed. If her entire focus was him, so
it appeared that his was her. He didn’t stop walking until he was inches away from her. He stopped abruptly and let
Gryffindor’s sword fall to the ground. He paused only for a second before gathering her into his tired arms and giving
her such a kiss that everyone who saw them there remembered that kiss: the heroic warrior knight triumphant and his fair
druidess maiden on the slope, the Castle behind them and victory all around.

***

To Be Continued......

Author’s Notes: Only one chapter to go now, which should be posted very soon. The sequel is almost ready to be posted
too... Finally. Thanks for all the reviews so far!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

12. Sweet Victory

Chapter Summary: In which loose ends are tied up (most of them), Harry gives Hermione a present, Maura gets somewhere to
live, Narcissa redecorates and the Trio finally get to leave school.

*

Chapter Twelve- Sweet Victory

“So it’s true,” Harry whispered when he finally prised his lips away from her.

“What?” she asked, slightly dazed and out of breath. He grinned devilishly.

“Victory is sweet.”

“Oh! You’re going to become absolutely insufferable now, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.” The grin stayed firmly in place. Then he began fumbling in the pocket of his ragged dragon hide trousers and
pulled out a tiny black box barely the size of her smallest fingertip. He muttered an engorgement charm and suddenly it
filled his palm.

“This is for you,” he said. She took it with wide eyes and trembling hands. She opened the box to find a ring. An
emerald surrounded by diamonds, set in gold. Not big or flashy, but perfectly formed. Hermione’s mouth fell open.

“Uh... what, uh... what does this mean?”

Harry smiled charmingly at her. He cleared his throat, having rehearsed this a little.

“It means that I love you. It means that pushing you away was the stupidest thing I ever tried to do. It means that....
It means everything and it means that I want to marry you one day. It doesn’t have to be soon, but one day.”

She took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. Although Harry had made no alterations to his mother’s ring,
it fit perfectly.

“Does this mean yes?” he asked anxiously. She smiled.

“Do I strike you as the sort of girl who would say no but keep the ring?”

“No.”

“Then there you go,” she said with a grin. His face lit up like the Hogwarts Christmas tree and the next thing Hermione
knew she was swinging around in the air, held securely in his arms.

“Stop it Harry!” she squealed. “You’re too tired and you’re hurt!”

“No I’m not,” he said with an ecstatic laugh before dropping her gracefully onto her feet.

“You’re making a spectacle of us, you know,” she said, looking down at the crowds of people who had foregone immediate
medical attention to watch them.

“I know.”

“Anyone would think you haven’t just spent the better part of the day battling the forces of evil.”

“That’s what you did?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. “I was down at the Three Broomsticks all day.”

“You’re becoming impossible, Potter.”

“I know, but you love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said with a soft smile. “But can we get you to Madam Pomfrey now? I find it hard to believe you came away
completely unscathed.”

“What gave it away?” he asked as they walked into the castle, his arm tucked firmly around her waist.

“All the blood, chiefly.”

“Can’t fool you, can I?”

“No. And you’d do well to remember that.”

The two arrived at the hospital wing to find it already filled to twice its capacity. Madam Pomfrey looked ready to tear
her hair out and Professor McGonagall was helping, despite her leg being in bandages from a tussle with a Death Eater
earlier in the day.

“I have to help,” said Hermione as soon as she saw the situation. He smiled and nodded.

“I knew you were going to say that.” He kissed her briefly and she went straight over to McGonagall.

Rows of chairs had been lined up outside the hospital wing and Harry took the seat at the end of the queue. Madam
Pomfrey, on the other hand, had different ideas. She came stalking out of the hospital wing demanding to see him.

“But there’s lots of people who were here first,” he said, still stuck in Hero Mode.

“Not everyone fought You Know... Voldemort face to face,” she said briskly. He noticed that nobody flinched as she said
‘Voldemort’. The fear was gone as surely as the Dark Lord himself.

“I can wait my turn. I drank a healing potion in the Forest,” he said firmly. Madam Pomfrey just nodded, too busy to
spend her time arguing. The eyes which had been turned admiringly on him not became positively reverential.

“I have got to stop being the good guy,” he muttered to himself.

“All right, Rex?” he heard a voice call to him. He looked up to see Ron come down the corridor, a grin plastered across
his face. Regardless of the blood covering Harry, they hugged happily.

“You did it Harry!”

“We did it,” Harry corrected him. “And how come I didn’t see you outside?”

“I’m not Hermione.” Harry blushed as Ron grinned. “I take it she said yes then?”

“Yes.”

“She’s in there helping?” Ron asked, pointing to the doors of the hospital wing.

“Yeah.”

“You do know you’ve gone all starry eyed?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not listening, are you?”

“Nope,” said Harry with a grin. “Where’s Maura? She followed me out of the Forest, I know she did-”

“Relax. She’s helping a couple of girls up here.”

“Oh. Are you all right?”

“A bit battered and bruised, but nothing too bad. Hermione sorted it out. Here, you should’ve seen Lucius Malfoy’s face
when he came face to face with a great big tiger.”

“What happened to him?”

“Oh... Draco turned up. He... Harry, you should’ve seen him! He took over and overpowered his dad. Pretty much beat him
up.”

“Revenge is sweet?”

“Yeah. Funny thing was, it wasn’t so much for himself but his mum. Draco Malfoy might be an odious creep, but he loves
his mum.”

“I got that. How about Ginny and the others?” asked Harry. Ron shook his head.

“Don’t know yet. It’s a madhouse round here.”

“Did you think to check the list of injured people on the door?” asked Harry. Ron shook his head and bounded over. He
read it quickly before bounding back.

“Fred broke his arm. The others aren’t on the list. But they’re not on the dead... on the other list either.”

“That’s good.”

“It was touch and go for a while out on the field though,” said Ron. “I wasn’t so sure that we’d win.”

“What?” Harry looked alarmed, suddenly thinking that he’d had the easy part.

“But Flame... Blimey, that film song thing didn’t half rally the troops. You should’ve seen everyone Harry! When they
heard it, they just fought harder.”

Harry beamed with pride and relief. It was finally over.

***

It took the hospital wing until the early hours of the morning to deal with everyone. Dumbledore’s poisoning was finally
cured when Snape was able to get some hair of river fox sent from London. In the end, only a fraction of either side’s
army were killed, and most injuries were easily dealt with.

The trials of the Death Eaters involved began almost immediately. The dementors were removed from Azkaban and replaced
with strong isolation charms which were unbreakable unless a committee of forty-one Ministry officials worked in unison
to do so. Lucius Malfoy and several other senior Death Eaters refused to remain in Azkaban. On attempting to escape,
however, they discovered that the isolation charms were designed to incinerate prisoners who repeatedly tried to escape.
Six senior Death Eaters committed suicide in this fashion.

Sirius Black was exonerated of all charges against him in one of the most high-profile wizard trials of the century.
Peter Pettigrew had been found lurking in the Forest during the battles, too cowardly to join in. He was one of the
Azkaban Six.

In the light of the bravery of Remus Lupin and several other werewolves during the battle, a new law was passed, the
Werewolf Humanity Act of 1998, in which werewolves were accorded all rights of other humans and, if they desired it, the
sanctuary and protection of the Ministry during full moons.

Narcissa Richards Malfoy returned to Malfoy Manor and had an interior designer named Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen come in
and redecorate. The dreary gothic house was transformed into a 1920s Moroccan palace.

A picture of Harry Potter walking out of the Forest with the sword slung over his shoulder made the front page of nearly
every wizarding newspaper, journal and magazine in the world (Only Wizard Summer Gardening remained uninterested in
him). He was immediately voted Witch Weekly’s Heartthrob of the Year, received thirty two marriage proposals, forty
three offers of no-strings-attached sex, two hundred and forty declarations of undying love (roughly half of them
delivered by Hogwarts owls) and was unanimously awarded the Order of Merlin First Class. The other three points of the
diamond also received the Order of Merlin First Class and together the four made the cover of magical America’s leading
glossy magazine Wizarding Fair.

***

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. June 1998.

It was the moment that Harry had dreaded since arriving at Hogwarts: leaving Hogwarts. The school was the only true home
that he had ever known, and he was terrified at the prospect of leaving it. At least, he thought, he would not be
returning to the Dursley household. Sirius had been given a large house in Cheshire by the Ministry by way of
compensation for making sixteen or so years of his life a misery, and Harry would be living there with him, at least for
a while.

Hermione was returning home with her parents, who had so far chosen not to pass comment on the sparkling emerald on her
finger. She intended to spend the summer studying at a Muggle university before embarking on a career most likely
pertaining to philosophical studies best suited to her druidic nature. She rather liked the idea of becoming a writer
and intended one day to write a biography of Kitty MacLennon, her great-grandmother.

On the advice of Professor Dumbledore and Maura’s Guardians, Ron had decided to go to an academy dedicated to those
gifted in divination and other shaman arts. It would last six years and then he would decide whether to go into a career
in those fields or not.

Which left Harry. He had no idea. He was a warrior. He knew how to fight, but there wasn’t anyone left to fight. He
didn’t really want to be an auror, because he finally had some peace and wanted it to stay that way. He remembered once
wanting quite passionately to be a professional Quidditch player, but despite offers from half the teams in Europe, he
wanted to be out of the limelight, at least for a while. Which left...? He wasn’t quite sure. He was rich enough to
never really work, but he already knew that the lifestyle of a playboy millionaire wasn’t for him.

***

“Ready to go?” Hermione asked. Harry was staring out of the window in the top dorm in Gryffindor- his room for seven
years.

“Just about,” he replied, half-heartedly grabbing his bag. She went over and tugged his arm.

“Come on, love. There’s a whole world out there waiting for you.”

“I know that. I just don’t know what I’m meant to do when I get there.”

“You don’t need to know. Go out and work it out for yourself,” she said with a grin. After a long moment, he nodded. He
moved away from the window and grabbed his trunk.

“Pass your Apparation test?” he asked her. She nodded.

“Of course I did! Who do you think I am? Did you?”

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?”

“Do you want the answer to that?”

***

A large number of reporters and other people had turned out to see Harry Potter leave school. The results of the NEWTs
had been published, and Harry had managed to come second in the year. Second, of course, to Hermione. There had been no
House Cup that year, but everyone agreed that Gryffindor would have won on the strength of Harry’s performance during
the battle. Only Harry and the rest of the Diamond bothered trying to point out that all four houses had come together
to fight the Death Eaters.

“Harry! Over here!” Ron shouted over the din. Flashbulbs were going off all around them as everyone tried to secure
themselves a piece of history. Harry and Hermione managed to fight their way over to him. He was waiting with Ginny,
both of them ready to get a carriage down to the train station.

“All right, Ron?” he asked, trying very much to look like he didn’t want to cry. Ron just nodded, perhaps afraid that if
he spoke, he might cry. On seeing them, Ginny tried very hard not to laugh.

“Oi! Boy Wonder!” a voice yelled above the din.

“I only know one girl with a voice that loud,” said Ron. They smiled and turned to see Maura standing in the doorway,
her bag and shield slung over her shoulder, the Sword of Ulster safely secured at her waist. Her daughter slept
peacefully in her arms.

“Came to see you off,” she said. “I’m leaving in a minute, too.”

“You are? Where are you going?” Ron asked curiously.

“Narcissa wants a lodger, so I’m off to Malfoy Manor. She wants to get to know Deirdre, an’ all. Then... who knows? No
doubt the Guardians will find some other sure-fire scheme to get Maura Richards killed.”

“Maura Richards?” asked Hermione. Maura smiled, more at peace than any of them had seen her before. She nodded.

“Yes. No point in staying narked because George had to be a hero. Wasn’t his fault. Not all heroes die, do they Harry?”

“No. Some of us live,” he said with a warm smile.

“It’s just the way the cookie bounces,” she said, once again twisting a well-known phrase into something completely
different. “Well, if you ever need me, I’ll be around.”

“Good,” said Hermione with a sweet, happy smile.

“Invite me to the wedding, right?” she said with a wink.

“Look after yourself,” Harry replied.

“I will. Probably won’t have any fighting to do and I’ll end up staying at home with Deirdre. I expect to be bored by
next Tuesday,” she said in a dry tone that they all knew was false. “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

“You will,” Ron promised. Maura grinned again, rather too stoic to hug, then walked down the steps to a carriage waiting
for her. Inside sat Narcissa and Draco Malfoy waiting for her. With a final wave from Maura and Narcissa, the carriage
started off down towards Hogsmeade.

“Narcissa, Draco and Maura,” mused Harry. “Can anyone think of a weirder combination?”

“I’ve got ten galleons that say Draco and Maura end up in a fight to the death. And another ten that say Maura wins,”
joked Ron.

“Oh be quiet, Ron! They’re family, you know,” said Hermione.

“That doesn’t make it any less weird.”

The three of them got into the carriage Ginny was waiting in. As it began its journey down to Hogsmeade and away from
Hogwarts, three faces looked out at the Castle. Home no longer.

“Still, I can’t imagine that the next bit will be too bad,” said Ron. “I mean, we’ve done the hard bit.”

“What? Defeating Voldemort and a whole host of Death Eaters and dark creatures?” asked Hermione.

“No, NEWTs.”

“Ron!” shouted three voices.

And there we must leave them. But don’t worry, it’s the end of the tale, not of the story.

THE END

Author’s Notes: And so HPDDD comes to an end. However, if you would like to read more from this universe, there are many
ficlets over at the Pumpkin Cafe yahoogroup: groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Pumpkin_Cafe/ in the Harry Potter & The Daoimear
de Dán

files folder.

Thanks to Dan for beta-skills as always.

ALSO! STOP PRESS! The sequel, Daoimear de Dán: Inné agus Inniu will be appearing at a Schnoogle (and at the Pumpkin
Cafe) near you in a matter of days.