Minerva waited until they had reached the Headmaster's office. After all, someone could be eavesdropping, and since too many already knew about Hermione, there was certainly no need to let anyone know about Harry; Voldemort was enough. Voldemort, Voldemort, she thought to herself. It was amazing; less than an hour ago, she shivered upon hearing the name. Now she spoke it without fear. Young Harry was certainly both powerful and skilled, and the two youths were so good together. Besides, Mr. Potter needed someone like Ms. Granger. Even though he hid it well, he was very distrusting and withdrawn, even with his godfather and the Headmaster, who had believed in his innocence. Yet, he did his best to stop the evil that possibly only he and Ms. Granger alone could stop.
A sad smile graced the strict professor's lips. Lily and James would have been proud of their son, and she didn't doubt they would've approved of Ms. Granger, if they'd lived.
On their way out, the two professors passed numerous security wards, charms, spells and alerts which Harry had put up around the training-classroom on their way back. Another smile, amused this time, passed over her face. It was difficult, if not to say impossible for anyone to approach that classroom without those inside noticing before they'd come within fifty feet. Seems like love doesn't only make one blind, but deaf also, Minerva thought dryly to herself.
Finally reaching the staircase, she cornered Dumbledore (as much as one can be cornered in a spiral staircase).
'Albus,' she exclaimed, 'Could you please tell me what that was all about?'
Dumbledore only smiled his annoying I-know-something-you-don't, smile. 'What are you talking about, Minerva?' he asked, innocently, and opened the door to his office.
Minerva looked sternly at him, but unfortunately, her glare didn't work quite as well on Dumbledore as on her students, so she decided to spell it out for him. 'About us walking in on Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger rather tied 'if not to say tongued- up in each other. Especially considering that last time they were in the same room, they weren't behaving in a very friendly manner.'
It was only then she noticed that the Headmaster's office wasn't empty. She mentally rolled her eyes. Heavens Above, why didn't Albus let them find out from Harry? He could have stopped me! she thought. But then again, Harry would' probably have kept it secret.
Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were wearing similar expressions of confusion, and as she watched them, their confusion turned into realisation, then to shock, then to amazement, and at last to amusement. No, not amusement, glee.
Minerva and Albus watched their rapid change of expressions in silent fascination.
'Did I just hear what I though I heard?' Sirius asked gleefully, rubbing his hands in a 'disturbingly' evil manner.
Remus was snickering. 'You're kidding me, Minerva. You didn't really stumble over Harry and Hermione while'?'
Minerva nodded. 'Indeed we did. Considering how they behaved the last time they were in the same room, I find it rather hard to believe too,' she said, and turned pointedly to Professor Dumbledore, who merely smiled.
'My guess,' he said, 'is that the two of them have harboured feelings for each other for a rather long time, but as we all know, it has been impossible for them to express those feelings in any way.'
The three others nodded, and Sirius cackled evilly. 'Aww, ickle Harry is growing up,' he said, and pretended to wipe away a tear. 'We'll have to have the famous godfather-to-godson speech,' he said, and stood.
Remus groaned and stood too. 'You're not going alone! You're definitely not the right person to tell him about the birds and the bees! And he probably knows it anyway!'
Dumbledore stopped them both however. With a flick of his wand they both froze in the doorway. 'You are not going to see Harry, gentlemen. You are in fact leaving Hogwarts tonight. I have Order business for you to handle.' But he was smiling merrily at the twosome.
~*~
The next days were some of the best Harry had ever experienced. With his help as the Citatio, Hermione was progressing even faster, and after four days, she could do simple illusions and transfigurations. When she'd mastered that, she made an illusion of herself, which she placed in the library in the afternoons, before she Wandered to their training room. Thus, they managed to increase her lessons to almost every day of the week, yet avoiding that anyone became suspicious. It was fortunate that everyone knew better than to prod Hermione when she studied, because the illusion wasn't solid, and all it could do was to pretend to read and write. They had to charm the books so the pages would flip occasionally, so it should look like she was reading for real.
Harry's 'clones' were far more complex, but they were also more difficult to make. The one in Azkaban hadn't needed to be solid, because all it did was sit in a cell, but it had to have a bit intelligence. The clone of Christian Atos, which he'd used a few times, was so advanced that Harry had to use a constant flow of energy to maintain it. This one was solid, and rather intelligent; intelligent enough to manage to get through an easy conversation, and a lesson that didn't take unexpected turns.
Fortunately (or one may say unfortunately) Voldemort had stopped his attacks on innocent people, as he was preparing for the 'big' attack. If Harry hadn't known about it, he would have been utterly confused and nervous.
Slowly but surely, Hermione increased her strength and stamina while using her powers, but still, she was exhausted at the end of every session. For Harry, this was perfect, as she then enjoyed cuddling up in front of the fire, and didn't say no if he wanted to join her. Fortunately, Sirius and Remus had left on 'Order business' before they found out about their make-ou-' er, make-up. They had barely had time to say goodbye before they left, for which Harry was grateful. However, he hadn't really liked the glint in his godfathers's eyes, or the amused smile Remus fought down. They knew something, that was sure.
Of course, all this hard work gave Hermione little time to do her homework and study for her NEWTs, and again, Harry was more than happy to help. This switch amused both of them, as it always had been Hermione helping Ron and Harry, not the other way around.
Hermione hadn't told Ron anything, and it didn't seem like Harry was going to either. She wasn't stupid, and it was obvious to her that Harry wouldn't trust Ron with this information. She didn't know why, but she wasn't on best-friend terms with Ron any longer, if she'd ever been, so she didn't ask. As far as she was concerned, Ron didn't need to know, and what Harry decided to do, wasn't her business.
When she didn't train with Harry, or study for school, she read the two books he'd given her. His journal gave her much valuable help when it came to how to handle the difficulties that came with being a Pectal, and the other book, Citatio And Pectal, gave her information on many things that the Pectal and the Citatio could do, in addition to a lot of history on other Pectals and Citatios. It was written by Pharaoh Ramses II, of Egypt, and he'd been a Citatio. His first wife, Nefertari, had apparently been the Pectal, while his second wife, Iset-Nofret, had been a powerful witch with a kind of Seer gift, only she didn't see the future, but the past. It seemed like her Seer gift was somewhat limited though, as she didn't See anything but the story of some of the Pectals and Citatios that had been before her lifetime.
It was very interesting, and every day, Hermione would learn something completely new to her. She and Harry could sit long into the night, discussing one topic or another. One of the primary topics was Talents. Talents had been more common before, but now they were so rare that they had halfway been forgotten. Few people had even heard about it, and many went through their lives never knowing that they had a Talent.
The two of them had started to explore their Talents, and the 'new' Talent, which Voldemort had. They had decided to call it 'Weaving'. It seemed like Harry had it, and they soon figured it didn't only work on names, but on objects as well. He managed to get Professor McGonagall furious by giving her a glass orb, and then, in the next second, all giggly by giving her an identical orb. All of them had been shaken by the effect it had; something that could manipulate humans that easily, and that precisely' Harry immediately started working, trying to find something that could make a human immune to it.
In addition to this, he had Hermione's training, Blaise's spying, and lessons. Hermione started to wonder when he slept.
~*~
A hissing voice. 'Kill the spare!'
A flash of green light. 'Avada Kedavra!'
Cedric's expressionless eyes, glazed with death.
Cedric's dead body.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
Harry jerked awake, and spilled a bottle of ink all over his students' homework in the process. Cursing, he tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but was rather unsuccessful. He cleaned up the mess on his table with a flick of his wand, and sighed. He'd fallen asleep while planning tomorrow's lessons, and now he couldn't gather the energy to pick up the task again if his life depended on it.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a decent night's sleep, and now it was getting bad. He hadn't had those nightmares since the summer before his fifth year. To put it mildly, he was stressed out of his mind. If he didn't have nightmares, he woke up after a few hours sleep, his brain subconsciously mulling over some pressing matter or another. He was starting to wonder if that headache had become chronic. It was a coming-and-going headache, and Harry couldn't really remember how long he'd had it. Since Christmas, perhaps?
The only thing that could get his mind to rest a bit, was Hermione, but when she wasn't around, his brain downright refused to rest on pleasant thoughts. No, it was determined to torture him with stressing thoughts; things he should have done, Voldemort, things he had to get done, Voldemort, the attack at the Ministry, Voldemort, lessons, Voldemort, keeping his identity secret, etc, etc.
'Tired Harry?'
He smiled upon hearing Hermione's voice. 'A little,' he replied, and turned towards her as she settled on a chair beside him. 'I have a lot to do.'
She frowned when she saw his face. He was pale, and was starting to get dark circles around his eyes. 'You should rest, Harry,' she said. 'You don't sleep enough.'
He managed a smile. 'It's nothing to worry about, Hermione. It's just a bit stress. I'll survive. It isn't worse than last year anyway,' he lied.
She didn't seem sure, but chose to ignore it. 'Last year?' she inquired instead. 'What did you do last year?'
Harry waved a hand. 'Oh, a little bit of that, and a little bit of this. Mostly I studied at Oxford.'
She raised an eyebrow. 'And that was more stress than this?' she asked.
He smiled. 'Well, I did take quite a few subjects, you know. Thank God I was smart enough to study Muggle subjects during the holidays, when I still went to Hogwarts,' he said. 'And don't look at me that way!' he added, when he saw Hermione look at him doubtfully. 'I know for a fact that you did it too, and even though I wasn't the best student in our year, I could have been as good as you, if I'd wanted to. But as I've told you''
''You decided not to, because you had enough with your fame, and you didn't want to blow your 'cover'. And then there was this 'instinct' thing. Yes, thank you, I've heard,' Hermione finished for him, smiling.
Harry grinned sheepishly. 'And as you know, I've always been curious, and that goes for school subjects too.'
Hermione snickered. 'Thank you, that curiosity I've had enough of. But why was Oxford so stressing, when you're so intelligent?'
'Because I took so many subjects,' he said, and summoned his papers from the University, and gave them to Hermione. As she looked through the papers, her eyes widened.
'But-but-but that's impossible!' she finally exclaimed. 'It's too many subjects; you wouldn't have time to go to all the lessons!'
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Third year?'
It dawned for Hermione. 'You time-traveled!'
He chuckled. 'Yes, I did. If you look closely, you will see that not all of the papers are on Christian Miguel Atos. Some of them are on Leonard Strider, some on James Evans, and a few on Adam White.'
'But how?' Hermione asked, confused. 'How did you get a time-turner?'
'I didn't,' Harry answered. 'I don't need one. I can travel quite nicely without one.'
Hermione's eyes widened again. 'You can? Can I too?'
Harry nodded. 'Yes, you can. Our form for time traveling is quite different from time-turners, though it is quite tiring. Luckily, I didn't have to attend language classes, for obvious reasons. I sent an illusion, and showed up for tests and exams. But for the other subjects, I had to travel. It was quite fun, actually; sometimes I was in the same class as myself. The other 'myself' was of course an illusion then, but can you think of something as annoying as having to deliver homework twice? Do tests twice?' he shook his head. 'Sometimes I jumped a day back at once, and then I saw myself at dinner and stuff. I could go through a day, meeting myself twice.'
Hermione gaped at him. 'You did that?' she asked. 'How did you manage to survive all the subjects without going crazy? I know for a fact that I almost did, and this is far more' this is so much more!' she said. 'And how come you still look like you're seventeen? Don't you age when you time-travel? You do that with a time-turner.'
Harry sighed; this was a long story, so he decided to make himself more comfortable. He stood. Big mistake. His headache came back in full force, and for a moment the world swam before his eyes. He groaned, wobbled, steadied himself, and lifted his fingers to his temples, rubbing them. Hermione jumped up from where she'd been sitting, a worried look on her face.
'Harry?' she asked. 'Something wrong?'
He gritted his teeth. 'Nothing,' he said, a bit strangled. 'Just a little headache.'
'A little headache?' she asked incredulously. Then she grabbed his arm and led him over to the chairs in front of the fireplace. Those chairs were fast becoming their favourite spot. 'Sit,' she commanded, pointing on the floor in front of one of them, and he obliged. She seated herself in the chair behind him, and proceeded to massage his scalp. Harry sighed as her cool fingers caressed him. He leaned back and relaxed to her touch.
'Hermione,' he moaned. 'You've got magic fingers.'
'I do?' came the sarcastic reply. 'I'd never guess''
He grinned. 'Well, back to your question' he said, and slipped back into his teacher-mode.' At least, he tried too. 'Oh, that's good'' he added, as Hermione attacked the area behind his ears. 'The simplest thing first. No, I don't age when I time-travel, as you do with time-turners. I guess Professor McGonagall gave you a growth-slowing potion when you used that time turner, so you wouldn't out-grow everyone in your year,' he said. 'Well, when you travel as a Citatio or a Pectal, you kind of separate yourself from time itself. You don't exist, you merely are.' He paused. 'Did that make any sense?'
Hermione chuckled. 'No, not really, but I get your point.'
'Oh, well,' Harry shrugged, and Hermione moved her hands downwards, starting to massage his neck. 'Well, anyway, you don't age when time-travelING!' The last syllable came as a cry, as she had touched an especially tender spot. 'Ouch! That hurt Hermione!' he said, a bit annoyed. He hadn't really realised exactly how tense he was. It seemed like the stress wasn't taking its toll on his head only. His back muscles suffered as well.
'Oh, sorry,' she said, and her touch became more light. She moved her hands down his back and frowned. 'Harry,' she said. 'You are horribly tense. The Healer in me can sense pain from here,' she touched the top of his head, 'to down here,' she touched the middle of his back.'
'Err' well.' Harry said cautiously. 'It does hurt. A bit.'
'For how long?' Hermione asked sternly.
Harry winced. 'Err' The headache' a bit back and forth' Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it doesn't.'
Hermione frowned. 'For how long?' she repeated.
'Christmas,' Harry said cautiously.
'Christmas!' Hermione cried. 'Harry, you know it's dangerous! You could end up with a chronic headache!'
'Wouldn't be surprised if that's already a fact,' Harry muttered under his breath.
Unfortunately, Hermione heard him. 'WHAT did you say?'
Harry winced in pain. 'Keep it down Hermione! Please! It hurts!'
She calmed down immediately, and slid down behind him, pushed him down so he lay flat on his stomach, before she straddled his waist.
Harry's eyes widened. 'Err' Hermione?' he asked. 'What are you doing?' But then she started rubbing his neck and shoulders, and he could feel her healing magic flowing through her fingertips.
'Ohhh'' he moaned, before wincing slightly. He felt his stiff muscles relax under her touch. 'That's soooo nice'' he murmured. Now his blasted mind could focus on something pleasant. The only bad thing was that now it couldn't focus on anything else. Men! he thought to himself. We're soooo one-tracked'
<So,> he said, trying to think about something else than the lady who was sitting on him. It was easier to speak mind-to-mind when lying like this. <as for the 'not going crazy' thing. Have you noticed any changes when it comes to learning? You remember better? You concentrate better?> he asked her.
Hermione nodded, before she realised he couldn't see that. 'Yes,' she said. 'I guessed it had something to do with being a Pectal.'
<Yes, and it applies for a Citatio too, which of course, was helpful. I've had that ability for a long time, even though I wasn't born with it. Yours has just started to develop, and since you've always been so good at it, you will probably out-match me by a long shot.> He sighed. Her fingers sent shivers down his spine. <If I hadn't had that ability, I would never have made it.>
'So we're more intelligent than other people?' Hermione asked, flabbergasted.
<Yes,> Harry answered. <Our brains are different. We can use more of them than normal humans can, and we remember and organise things differently.>
'But this doesn't make us any better than other humans,' Hermione pointed out. To her, this sounded like something that could make anyone big-headed.
<Of course not,> Harry agreed. <There's a difference between intelligence and wisdom. You don't have to be intelligent to have a good deal of common sense.>
Hermione smiled. He was still the modest, shy boy, who hated being famous. She couldn't imagine what would have happened if it had been Malfoy or even Ron who had had his abilities.
'I must admit I was rather surprised when you said you had studied Muggle subjects,' Hermione said suddenly. 'But I understand now why you did it. To get a better understanding of magic, wasn't it?'
Harry raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of subject. <You've always been the one to put two and two together, Hermione,> Harry said, and sent her a mental smile. <Many witches and wizards don't understand the point, because they don't realise how advanced Muggles really are. And they don't understand how something Muggle can help them get better at magic. It's exactly like you to do so. And because of that, I would have had problems with following you, even with my 'Citatio intelligence'. And everybody else had huge problems when they needed to remember Potions recipes or transfigure beetles to buttons.>
Hermione chuckled. 'I was the only one who understood that if you used the systems of Muggle science, you only had to understand the patterns, rules and algorithms, and then you could calculate or predict almost everything. So while everyone learned different recipes by heart in Potions, I used the rules of chemistry.'
<And kept it to yourself so you would be ahead of everyone else,> Harry said, mock-annoyed. <Took me a year and a half to realise the same thing.>
Hermione couldn't help but giggle. 'I really wonder why they don't teach us these things at Hogwarts. I know you learn it if you specialise in a subject, but it would have been so much easier if we learned this from the beginning,' she said.
<It is supposed to be a little too advanced for eleven year olds' And besides, it's magic they're supposed to teach, and they would hardly get time to that if they should teach us about the Muggle stuff,> Harry said.
She nodded. 'Suppose,'
There was a pause. A long, comfortable silence, in which Hermione was deep in thought, still massaging Harry's shoulders and back, and Harry was falling asleep. It took a while before Hermione noticed this, but when she did, she couldn't help but smile. He looked so peaceful when sleeping.
'Harry,' she nudged him, and he stirred.
'Um' what?' he said, drowsily, a bit annoyed at the person who woke him up from the first peaceful slumber he'd had in weeks.
'I think you should go to bed,' Hermione said, now kneeling beside his head.
'Rmmm,' was Harry's intelligent answer. 'But I haf to-' a jaw-breaking yawn '-plan 'morrow's 'esson,' he muttered into the carpet.
Hermione chuckled. 'No.' she said.
Harry looked up, craned his neck so he could see her, and blinked. 'No?' he asked.
'Yes,' Hermione said. 'You are going to bed now. I'll take care of tomorrow's lessons.'
Harry raised, er, tried to raise an eyebrow, but in his sleepy state, he failed rather miserably. 'I'm the Professor, Herm-' another yawn, '-one,' he said.
'Yep, but you are going to bed. I'll finish your lesson plans, and you'll find them on your desk tomorrow. Now go to bed,' she commanded.
Muttering, Harry stood, and suddenly his eyes widened in disbelief. 'It's all gone,' he said, astounded.
'What?' Hermione asked.
'The headache. It's gone,' he repeated, and brought his hands to his temples.
'Yeah, right, I know that, I did it, remember. But go to bed now.' Hermione said, getting a bit annoyed. Why couldn't he just do as she said?
Harry smiled at her. 'Thank you, Hermione.' And then he cupped her chin and gave her a long, tender kiss, which sent tingles through her body. And then he turned towards his bedroom.
Hermione blushed, unable to keep the stupid grin off her face. Hadn't he whispered, barely audible, a soft, 'Love you', before he left?
~*~
To his surprise, Harry slept well, without a nightmare or anything. And true to her word, Hermione had left the lesson plans on his desk. Thankfully, he had already finished the sketches, so all Hermione had had to do, was to finish. He was supposed to go through 'Defence against prophecies; how to recognise a fake one, and how to avoid a real one', with the sixth years. He grinned. He just had to do this with the seventh years too; with Lavender and Parvati it would be fun. And by the way, he had to tell Hermione about that Lion-Eagle-Snake prophecy. Wonder how she will take it when she finds out she's related to Voldemort? he thought to himself.
A delightful shudder went through him when he thought of her, and he scolded himself. Behaving like a hormone-ridden teen-ager, unable to control yourself, he thought angrily. But then again, he was a hormone-ridden teen-ager. He just didn't like the 'unable to control himself' part.
~*~
'Darkness of World shall rise,
Two Children of Power shall stand.
One shall be of Eagle and Griffin blood,
The other of the Snake,
With their strength they must fight,
The Darkness of World shall fall'
'But Danger is ahead,
As Power hate Power,
As Power distrust Power
As He and She are betrayed
But Children of Power must stand by trust.'
~*~
As expected, Hermione took the fact about her being a Slytherin descendant fairly well, and after a few minutes of wide-eyed staring, she composed herself, and snorted disbelievingly at the prophecy, as she wasn't a big fan of divination. But she had to admit, that she and Harry could very well be the persons the prophecy was talking about, as it mentioned 'Lion and Eagle' and 'Snake'. Rowena had guessed, when she came up with the prophecy, that Lion and Eagle were herself and Godric's descendant, and Snake was Salazar's. But yet, it didn't mean it was certain, even though it fitted very nicely on them, especially as Hermione had hated Harry, and Harry hadn't trusted her. Anyway, that part was over, and Harry had to agree with her reasoning. Hermione, being the intelligent witch, err, Pectal she was, figured it didn't make any difference. They would have to fight Voldemort nevertheless, whether he was the predicted 'Darkness' or not. An evil man he was nonetheless.
~*~
Days passed on, and even though Voldemort's attack neared, and both Blaise and Snape reported huge gatherings of Death Eaters, Harry managed to stay calm. Fortunately he had slept well since that back-rub of Hermione's, so he felt energised and healthy. And Hermione increased her strength, at the same time learning Telepathy, and more about Telekinesis, as Harry had that gift too. Beast-Speaking and Soul-Searching she couldn't grasp yet, as Talents were something that suddenly 'awoke', and it didn't seem to follow a pattern for when. They decided to pop up at the most unexpected times.
Harry also taught her some Muggle stuff he'd learned, since even though she already knew much, she didn't have University education like he did. In return, she insisted on teaching him things, among them Arithmancy. Harry had never taken that, because when he went to school, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures and Defence Against the Dark Arts were more important. After all, he didn't really need Arithmancy to save the world, even though he later regretted taking Divination instead. He didn't really learn much about his Seer gift there, but he couldn't drop out of it, as that would look weird. After all, he didn't have the image of a boy who cared whether or not a subject was useful, when he could get good grades. Anyway, it was a way to get his mind off the war, his classes, his duties as a Citatio, and equally non-pleasant things. That Hermione was his teacher helped too, of course.
~*~
It was the day of the vote-counting. Important Ministry-members would be present, as well as the press, and many others who wished to be the first to know who the new Minister was. Jonathan Storm had managed to place fifty-nine Aurors among the crowd, and the majority of the Order of the Phoenix were there, seventeen in number.
And Harry was there. Wearing faded blue jeans, a white shirt and a brown jacket, he looked like a very normal young man. If you added the dirty-blonde hair and the hazel eyes, no one would ever guess that his name was Harry Potter.
He knew precisely what his mission was: protect the elected Minister. If the Minister survived, he would be able to reinstate order much faster than if they ended up with no Minister at all. He also knew that they had no chance whatsoever of winning. The only thing they could do was to take out so many Death Eaters that Voldemort had to pull back. Harry was certain that he didn't have enough power to take himVoldemort, and Hermione wasn't ready to help him yet.
He passed by a young couple, and spotted Lucius Malfoy in the crowd. His fists clenched. The man was a Death Eater with way too much influence, and he was bad news for the light side.
One part of Harry wished that Voldemort wouldn't show up, and that everything had been a fluke. But if it was, it was probably a part of a devious plan of his. Perhaps he suspected Blaise and Snape (well, Snape he already suspected, but that was beside the point), so he had decided to let it slip out and see if the light side heard about it. So therefore, Harry also hoped it wasn't a fluke.
His stomach was a churn of emotions, and he was starting to feel light-headed. He was nervous. He knew that he could die here today, and he was certain that someone would die here today.
He spotted some of the Aurors and Phoenix agents looking desperately at those who had brought their children with them, but there was nothing they could do. Harry walked towards two kids as they started speaking on the podium. As he passed them, he sent them a Telepathic Persuasion. Trying to appear inconspicuous, he walked from child to child, telepathically telling them to follow any orders he might give them, before setting up a closed portal in a dark corner. It could easily be opened.
Harry magicked away the sweat gathering on his forehead. If he only knew how Voldemort was planning to get in' Well, anyway, he should be warned a good time before Voldemort reached this place, so he would be well prepared.
He half listened as Arthur Weasley was announced as the new Minister, and Harry noted that Lucius seemed torn between relief and anger. The two of them' had been the only candidates, as Minister was such a dangerous position these years. As people cheered, Harry was certain that he could feel' something. A disturbance. A warning. And then he saw it.
A long, thin, vertical line appeared. It parted into two vertical lines, held together at the top with a horizontal line, and the same at the bottom. A rectangle. The two vertical lines 'drifted' apart, stretching the horizontal ones. The rectangle grew. Harry's throat went dry.
The lines passed right through one of those present. He died instantly, having been parted in two. Voldemort hadn't cared about shielding.
The rectangle grew, until it wasn't a vertical rectangle, but a horizontal. Now everyone had noticed. Now everyone was frightened. Now everyone was staring at the dead man. The lines had sliced through a young woman too, robbing her of her arm. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream. You could hear a pin drop. The blood was pulsing in Harry's ears.
Voldemort could Wander.
====================
Disclaimer: Riiiiiiiiighhhhtttt! I have a story I can earn zillions on, yet I don't want to publish it as a book? And earn those zillions? I repeat: Riiiiiiiiighhhhtttt!
I'm flattered! *blushes a deep, deep crimson*
I've gotten responses such as 'that chapter was a piece of art', 'you're a fantastic writer', 'don't stop writing, that's a big mistake', 'go Prongs' (* Rachel snickers; I owe those words!*), 'you managed the Waff part very well', 'you did a wonderful job', 'that was wonderful, thank you!', 'I've liked this story form the beginning, and it's getting better', 'the fluff was perfect', 'I'm in love with your fic', 'did I mention that you totally ROCK!', 'have you ever thought of a career as an author', and such stuff.
*blushes even more* I'm getting big-headed. But just give me more compliments. I can't get big-headed enough! *starts dreaming of a career as an author* It's already getting bad'
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It means a lot to me, it really does. I can't even remember getting a flame' It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, to know that so many like my fic. *sniffles* I really appreciate it.
I'm sorry about leaving you there: I know it's an evil cliffie, but I try to keep this PG, and therefore I won't describe fight-scenes. The chapter can't be any longer either. The only bad thing is, that next chapter will be even more delayed, because next week I will have several big tests. Or' perhaps it'll come faster, because I'll probably write as stress-down'? Who knows?
Anyway, it's beta-read by the-dreamer. Go her.