Harry Potter and the Forest of Kavan

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter; all characters and general story lines belong to J.K. Rowling. I am not and will not make any money off of this. It is purely for fun.

Chapter 1

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger walked back to the Gryffindor common room chatting excitedly. It was Wednesday and the last Quidditch game of the season between Slytherin and Gryffindor was to be that Friday. As with all of the Hogwarts students, they couldn't wait. The whole school was abuzz.

It was the three friends sixth year at Hogwarts and they knew that recruiters for Britain's major league Quidditch team, the Knights, would be there to watch this particular game. All four Hogwarts houses had fought for this moment, and it had come down to Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Harry was still seeker, having started at eleven years of age in his first year at Hogwarts. Since he had six years of the game under his belt he had become quite good, and Ron and Hermione were excited beyond words at his prospects.

"Harry, just remember to keep your eyes on the snitch as soon as it's released," Ron said as they reached the portrait of the fat lady. She was fast asleep and snoring loudly, for it was a quarter of eleven, and the three were supposed to be in quarters by now. "And for your sake keep a watch out for that slimy git Malfoy!"

"He'll be after you Harry...lemondrop," finished Hermione in the same breath to the fat lady. Rather than wake up to open her portrait to them, she simply snorted in deep sleep and turned the other way. Hermione frowned. "You know he won't be able to stand it if the recruiters look at you for their new seeker rather than he...lemondrop!" she repeated rather loudly in annoyance.

The fat lady opened one bloodshot eye and frowned.

"A little late aren't you?" she chided and then yawned. "Enter." The portrait swung open and the three stepped inside. The common room was deserted; everyone having common sense had gone up to bed.

"I'll be careful." Harry replied to his friends, "Wood has been pushing us hard, so I'm in better shape than I've been before. I don't care what Malfoy does so long as he doesn't get in my way... Maybe I'll direct a bludger or two his way... by accident of course." Harry grinned down at Hermione and her heart flip-flopped the silly way it had been for the past couple of years. Something had changed for her in the way she looked at Harry and it almost scared her. Did he feel the same things?

No he couldn't, she thought to herself, I'm just Hermione, just one of the triangle. How could he look at me any other way? But she had caught Harry staring at her a few times. As soon as she had seen him, he had turned slightly pink and looked away.

All three of them had changed so much since their first meeting that day on the Hogwarts Express. Both Harry and Ron now towered over her, both being a good six inches taller than she. Ron had grown out of the side-kick mold, not just considered the famous Harry Potter's friend. He had come into his own and made a name for himself, most likely due to all of the adventures he had gone on with Harry and herself and having been an integral part on his own at helping to bring down Voldemort's plots so many times. He himself was now admired by many apart from Harry. He would never quite be the shining star that Harry was, but much to his credit he wasn't jealous of that fact. Hermione admired Ron for that. He was a beloved friend. But why had Harry become something more for her? And what exactly was she feeling?

She studied Harry as he and Ron sat in front of the fire and discussed Quidditch strategies. Not only had he grown taller, but broader. He was no longer the boy-who-lived, but the young man.

As he leaned forward on his knees listening to Ron, Hermione noticed the rippling in his shirt from his distinct chest and arm muscles. She supposed it was a combination of Quidditch and growing older. He still wore the wire rimmed glasses on his smooth face, and his hair was still a shock of dark brown and ever untamable. And his eyes...Hermione could never get past those. They were a brilliant, piercing green, not usual. When Harry looked at her with those eyes, she felt like he could see down into her very soul. At times it was almost disconcerting as she felt he could surely see what she was thinking.

Quickly she cut off her train of thought. He's a friend, she told herself, only a friend. One of my two best friends, and that's the way it is. That's the way it had to be.

"'Mione, did you hear me?" asked Ron.

"What?" asked Hermione, startled.

"I've only asked you the same question three times," said an exasperated Ron, "You just kept staring into the fire."

Harry fixed her with a crooked smile. "Where were you?"

"S... Sorry, I," Hermione stammered, "I wasn't listening..."

"Guess not!" said Ron with a smirk. "I asked you if you finished your assignment in divination."

"Yes I finished it; not that it's done me much good. I swear I stared at that crystal ball for an hour and all I saw was haze. Maybe I can tell Trelawny that a little triangle popped up that said 'outcome unclear'."

"That's too bad," sighed Ron, "I was hoping you could help me with mine."

"Ron, no one can help you with Divination," said Harry, "It's your crystal. No one will see your future but you."

"Really? Ok then Master of the Unknown, tell me what does your future hold?" asked Ron tightly.

Harry snorted rather derisively. "I never said I was good at it either. The only ones in class who ever seem to see anything are Lavender and Parvarti. But I think they make half of it up to impress Trelawny."

"Of course they do," sniffed Hermione, "The first time they saw something they became teachers pet. They want to stay that way, don't they?"

Hermione had had a problem with Lavender and Parvarti ever since last year, when they both began to notice boys, in particular Harry. Ron knew this but wisely decided to keep his thoughts to himself.

"Hmph... well I'm off. Better get enough sleep before the Herbology exam tomorrow. Professor Sprout said it was quite a large one... Coming Harry?"

"In a bit," he replied," I just have a few things I want to look up here." Harry held up a copy of Quidditch Throughout The Years."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Ron as he bounded up the stairs.

That left Harry and Hermione alone. Hermione bit her lip nervously, and stood. "Well I best be off too," she said turning towards the steps for the girls dorms.

"'Mione wait," called Harry.

Hermione turned back and glanced at Harry a little nervously.

"I didn't really want to read anything," explained Harry a little sheepishly, "I just wanted to talk to you alone."

"Umm.. it's rather late Harry," began Hermione. With Ron there, there was a buffer to her feelings. But now that he had gone up to bed, she was afraid to be alone with Harry, lest he see something he shouldn't.

"Wait please." Harry grabbed her hand.

Hermione felt an electric shock that went straight through her at his touch. As she looked down at Harry, she saw an odd look cross his face. What was that about?

Harry pulled her down on the couch next to him and slowly released her hand.

"What is it?" began Hermione quietly.

Harry looked up at her. The fire light danced on her delicate features and spun the highlights in her light brown hair into gold. Her large chocolate eyes bored into his so that Harry found it hard to breathe. He felt confusion set in the same as it had been for a while now. He blinked hard, trying to clear his head.

"Um... I wanted to talk to you about..." Harry hesitated, trying to find the right words. "Are you all right? I mean...lately I feel like you've been avoiding me."

Hermione looked startled. "Avoiding you!? Why on earth would I do that? You're my best friend, Harry."

"Well it seems like maybe it started at the ball last month." Harry knit his brows together as he thought back. "Remember? After we danced."

Hermione remembered well. After she and Harry had danced, she had danced with Ron. It had been such a different feeling. With Ron, she was more relaxed...just a friend with a friend. But when she had danced with Harry, as they held hands and moved on the floor together, she had felt like her head was swimming. She had looked up once to see Harry staring at her intensely, but as soon as he noticed, his expression turned innocent again, and he had smirked and twirled her. Just Harry. But had he really been looking at her that way or was it all an illusion?

After dancing with Harry and Ron, Hermione had danced with several others, including Seamus, Dean, and Neville, and Harry had danced with several others, including Alicia, Parvarti, and Lavender, who was obviously smitten with him. She remembered seeing those two in particular and feeling an intense pang of jealousy that she had quickly shoved away. Again she had no right to feel that way... it was just Harry. That's when she supposed that she had made an unconscious effort from then on to keep it light between them.

"'Mione, you still here? Still with me?" smiled Harry, "You left me again."

No, I'd never leave you, not if I knew you wanted me to stay... "Sorry Harry, I was just thinking back... I promise you I haven't been avoiding you, at least not intentionally. Aren't you, Ron and I always together?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "Yeah, but only when Ron's around."

He paused for a moment thinking about what he had just said and whether or not it was appropriate. "Do... do you..." and there Harry stopped, looking a little embarrassed and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

"What? Harry you know you can ask me anything."

Harry sighed and hesitated for a moment. "Do you have something going on with Ron?"

Hermione laughed out loud and then checked herself. No sense in waking all of Gryffindor. "With Ron?" she laughed softly, "No Harry, of course not! What would make you think something like that?"

Again, Harry raked a hand through his hair... one of his more endearing traits... Check that Hermione! He's just Harry... Just a friend...

"Well... Well I just thought since you didn't seem to want to be with me alone... maybe you thought Ron wouldn't like it," finished Harry sheepishly.

"Oh Harry, honestly!" laughed Hermione, "I love Ron to death but only as a dear friend."

Harry leaned forward on his knees and stared into the fire, his expression somber.

Hermione's smile faded as well as she studied Harry. He was obviously deep in thought about something that he was having a hard time expressing. She waited patiently. Finally...

"How about me..." Harry asked quietly.

Immediately Hermione's heart flipped. It was beating so hard she thought surely that he could hear it. Oh Harry, you're everything to me... You're so much more than just my best friend... Every morning my first thoughts are about you... whenever I need someone to talk to I come to you... I worry about you because of Voldemort, but I think of your bravery. I think of how many times you've saved mine and Ron's life. I think of how it killed me to see you dancing with Lavender... or any other girl for that matter. I wonder how it would be if you and I were...

"Do you mean because you think I've been avoiding you? Oh Harry...it's just...it's something I'm working out for myself, that's all. You're still my very best friend."

Hermione took his hand before she thought about what she was doing, and Harry held her hand tighter, turning away from the fire towards her. His expressive green eyes bored into hers with an intensity that took her breath away.

Harry don't look at me like that... I'll lose my resolve...

Again, he seemed like he wanted to say something but was having a hard time getting it out. They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, so close in the dark, warm room, lit only by the fire in the hearth.

Harry was mesmerized. Hermione had changed so much. She wasn't a girl anymore... she was a young woman, and a beautiful one at that. Her curly rich hair fell to almost the middle of her back, and her soft delicate features and large chocolate eyes were made even more beautiful in the firelight.

He also knew that he hadn't been the only one to notice the changes. He knew several boys in Gryffindor and a few in Ravenclaw who had had their eyes on her since fourth year... and those were just the ones that he knew about.

He thought about all the times she pored over books; how she bit her lip in concentration, and constantly pushed her hair behind her ears...how her smile seemed to light up a room; how he searched for her in every crowd. How had things changed so completely, so fast? What did it mean for him... for them?

Hermione studied Harry's face. She knew every feature. The brilliant emerald green eyes under the absurdly long lashes; how he constantly had to shake his hair out of his eyes; his broad shoulders; the way he felt when they had danced; the times they had hugged as friends; a million different expressions of his; the dangerous look on his face, wand in hand as he fought Voldemort or one of the dark lord's followers. Whatever was happening here was about to be revealed. Hermione couldn't be more terrified or excited at the same time.

"'Mione..." Harry whispered. He was only a hands breadth away.

Hermione felt herself shiver as he breathed her name. When she spoke it was more of a statement than a question. "What do you want Harry..."

He hesitated, his eyes taking in every feature of her face.

"I'm not sure..." he drew closer, "But I know you're not just my best friend."

Hermione closed her eyes. She thought her heart would burst. He felt the same way. She almost panicked with the thought that it was true. When she opened her eyes again, Harry was so close that she could feel the warmth of his body and his breath on her face.

They stayed that way for what seemed like hours.

Once again Hermione asked the same question. "What do you want..."

Harry's lips parted and he simply shook his head. Words wouldn't do. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he drew her in and gave her a soft sweet kiss.

Hermione put her arms around his neck and drew him closer. She felt like she had been waiting for this forever. She could smell the soap he used, the smell of his hair, his clothes.

Harry's kiss deepened. He put his arms around her waist and crushed her to him. His senses were heightened. He no longer knew where he was, only that he was kissing Hermione. There was nothing before or after.

Their kissing became more passionate and they laid back on the couch. Hermione pressed her body against Harry's reveling his strength. She felt him respond and their kissing became almost desperate. Harry began kissing her cheek, her neck; his hands were hot on her skin, under her shirt, on her belly...

Both stopped for a moment, breathing hard; hearts racing. Hermione's hands were tangled in Harry's hair. Neither realized how fiercely passionate they had become in such a short time until it was almost too late.

"We need to.."

"Stop. I know..." finished Harry breathlessly, " I don't want too though."

" Me neither," said Hermione, equally as breathless, "Which means that we definitely need to."

As her lips were still stinging and warm from Harry's kiss; Hermione realized that for the first time, she really wished she were one of those people who threw caution to the wind. But she didn't trust herself or Harry for the moment to use their brains.

She looked at Harry and he looked at her. Both smiled. What had happened there tonight was for the moment, for them only to know about. Neither felt any need for words or deep discussion about what was going on and what it meant; both were now equally aware that the other had felt the same thing for a long time. It needed no definition or title. They had both simply crossed the invisible line that they had dared not cross before. They knew it was the start of something completely new. Both stood reluctantly.

"G'night Harry," said Hermione quietly, walking towards the girls stairs.

Harry hung his head and grinned. "G'night 'Mione."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed towards the boy's stairs when Hermione called out to him once more and turned. "Harry...I...I want you to know that..." she stumbled over the words and could get no further.

"I know. I have too...For a long time." Harry finished for her. Nothing else needed to be said at the moment.

Hermione smiled and headed upstairs. "G'night Harry."

"G'night love."

As Hermione laid in her bed, sleep wouldn't come. All she could do was think of Harry; his kiss, his touch, the way his hands felt. She felt herself shudder with excitement. She could hardly believe what had happened, or for that matter, how she had responded to his touch.

Had they really just kissed? Had they really just confessed their feelings to each other? It was almost easier to believe that she'd imagined it all. As she closed her eyes and willed sleep to come, the last thing she remembered before drifting off was Harry's beautiful face.

Harry tossed in his bed. His eyes made out the blurry form of Ron in the bed beside his, who had apparently fallen asleep before pulling the curtains around his bed shut. He was snoring soundly, oblivious to Harry's tossing.

Harry frowned. How would this affect their friendship? He didn't even know how to begin to tell him. Ron had at one time had feelings for Hermione, but had come to realize that it wasn't what he thought... besides the fact that she didn't share them; much to Harry's relief.

He thought back to that time only last year. At the time, he had chalked up his jealousy and the relief he later felt to being worried that the threesome's tight friendship would suffer. Now, he thought rather stupidly of himself, he realized that it was more all along.

He thought of Hermione so close; only a hallway away. He remembered the smell of her hair and the feel of her lips on his and knew beyond a doubt that it was much more than friendship that he felt.

Harry's heart sunk as he realized another hard fact: Voldemort.

If he were ever to somehow find out about his and Hermione's relationship, it could be detrimental. Harry was well protected at Hogwarts and at the Dursley's, and as a result, both Ron and Hermione, being associated with him were equally as protected, at least at Hogwarts. But off of school grounds? At least Ron's family was magical. But both Hermione's mother and father were Muggle. On school grounds, at least, the three were almost constantly together, so Harry didn't feel a particular threat there...not to deny that certain events had happened at Hogwarts before. But still...Harry couldn't be as cool headed when it came to someone he loved. Voldemort would know that.

Quickly Harry checked himself. He loved? That thought had come as quickly and easily to him as if it had always been. It was hard for him to use that word, much less think it as he had never really felt it before, at least when he was old enough to remember. The Dursley's had never given him a reason to love them, and they certainly didn't love him. He was a burden and an embarrassment; someone to be hidden away when company was over, and simply ostracized when it was only the family.

Family...Harry thought. Ron, Hermione, and his godfather, Sirius were the only family he had ever really known. And as Sirius was constantly in hiding from the Ministry, Harry hardly ever saw him. Why had his mother and father had to die when he was so young?

Harry sighed and rolling over in his bed, he reached under it to pull out the family album that Hagrid had given him as a gift in his first year. Opening to the first page, he watched as his mother and father held him, picking up his small arm and waving it for the camera.

Harry closed his eyes and laid the album on his chest, hugging it to himself. What he would give to have his parents back again...for just one day to feel the love of a real family. To introduce them to Ron...and to Hermione.

Harry's hand slipped off of the album and fell to his side. Sleep had finally claimed him.

**********************************

Chapter 2

The next day the great hall was abuzz with excitement. Only a few more days until the biggest and last Quidditch match of the year. Even Snape seemed a little nicer. He actually wore something resembling a smile on his face but, of course, that was only when talking to Slytherin about the match.

At breakfast, a couple of tables over, Malfoy managed to catch Harry's eye mid-bite and gave him a nasty smirk.

"Oy Potter...might as well give up now! Everyone knows the judges'll bypass you for seeker! You'll probably cast off your broom first round, if you don't swallow a bludger first!"

This brought a round of general laughter from the Slytherin table, including Malfoy's sidekicks Crabbe and Goyle. The troll-faced friends gave a few dumb snickers and nasty shouts Harry's way.

Ron's face burned as brightly as his hair. "You're just off because Gryffindor won the last match against you Draco! In case you forgot, the last time we came up against, we beat the pants off of you!"

"Only by a little!" Crabbe yelled back.

Malfoy elbowed Crabbe harshly and gave him an angry glare. Apparently losing by a little still wasn't admirable in his book. His father had taught him that failure was never acceptable. Not even by a little.

Ron sniggered and turned back to Harry and Hermione, who seemed to be a little pink and purposefully ignoring Malfoy and everyone else in general. He frowned.

"What's with you two then..."

"Huh?" said Harry almost dropping his fork, "Wh...what..."

"Well you've hardly spoken a word this morning...either of you. Normally you'd have something nasty to say back to Malfoy, or Harry at least a twinge with you're wand! What's the matter then?"

"Nothing," said Hermione, rather quickly. She'd hardly touched her breakfast. "Well, I'd better get ready for Herbology."

She stood and smiled at them, giving a particularly warm smile to Harry. Ron noticed and glanced at Harry, who had been smiling back, but quickly turned back to his breakfast.

"Hermione, we've still got twenty minutes before class!" began Ron.

"I've still got to study a bit," replied Hermione, backing away.

Ron noticed her face was flushing a hot red and she pushed her hair behind her ear nervously.

"Well see you two in class then..."

She rushed down the makeshift pathway between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables and left the hall.

Ron turned back to Harry who shrugged innocently.

"Mental, that one is," said Ron, "I asked her why she was so tired this morning and she said she was up late studying. Why would she need to study more?"

Harry seemed to choke on his eggs just then and didn't have an answer. Ron frowned suspiciously.

*****************************************

In Herbology, Professor Sprout handed out the tests amid a rumble of protests from the students. Harry glanced at the test and then spoke out loud.

"An essay!? The test is an essay!?"

"Of course it had to be," said Ron testily, "I didn't study enough on one particular thing to write an essay about it!"

"Well then that'll be your fault, won't it Mr. Weasley?" said the Professor from a few rows down. "Perhaps you and Mr. Potter might have a better go at it if you talked less and wrote more."

A few desks away, Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle and snickered.

Hermione set her jaw and whispered to Ron and Harry. "Why we have to have Herbology, Potions, and Transfiguration with the Slytherin is beyond me."

"Miss Granger," said Professor Sprout, "another word and five points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Sorry," said Hermione and smiled at Harry and Ron behind her hair.

Again Ron noticed the warm looks that Harry and Hermione exchanged and frowned. What was going on?

A few desks away, Draco Malfoy noticed the same thing and frowned to himself. He'd know that look anywhere. It was the same look that Pansy Parkinson was always trying to get him to notice.

Was Potter falling for the Mudblood? Draco snickered, and then wondered how that might be used to his advantage. He looked at Hermione and shuddered. He at least thought Harry had better taste than that. Oh, Granger was pretty enough to look at, but to date!? She was Muggle born. Everyone knew that. Malfoy would never be friends with one of those, much less date one. Good thing most of Slytherin were pure bloods, at least the ones he hung out with.

Malfoy smiled smugly to himself. That's why Slytherin was the best house.

After Herbology, Harry, Ron and Hermione moved into the crowded halls weaving their way towards Professor Snape's Potions class.

As Ron walked in front, Harry took the opportunity to grab Hermione's hand, he thought rather sneakily.

Hermione looked up at him in surprise and Harry gave her a slight smile and a wink. She blushed and squeezed his hand, giving him a look that sent a thrill straight through him.

"So when can we find time to be alone..." said Harry bending close to Hermione's ear.

She found his breath on that particular area to be a little disconcerting and turned her head slightly his way, blushing. "Maybe tonight, sometime after dinner."

Harry smiled at her. "Can't wait."

At that moment Malfoy barged up in front of them cutting off their path quickly.

"Jeez, Potter," he drawled snottily, "I thought you had more class than that."

Ron turned around quickly, and just as quickly, Harry dropped Hermione's hand and took a step toward Draco, speaking in a low voice.

"Shut up Malfoy."

"What'd you mean by that?" said Ron angrily, taking a step toward Malfoy.

He ignored Ron and circled Harry and Hermione slowly. "So you decided to make it official.. can't say I'm surprised. But coming from an all wizarding family I thought you would have chosen better."

Harry's eyes flashed and he grabbed his wand.

"Harry don't." Hermione grabbed his arm. "He's just trying to get you in trouble with Snape. We're right near the classroom."

"I don't care," he growled back, shaking Hermione's hand off.

Ron stepped between them and shoved Malfoy back a bit. "What're you on about... What'd you mean 'chosen better'?"

Malfoy's eyes widened and he grinned, looking from Harry to Ron.

Harry's eyes, while still angry, pleaded for Malfoy's silence.

"You mean you don't know Weasley!?" drawled Malfoy snottily, "What a great lot of friends you've got!"

By that time a crowd of students had gathered around the four and were murmuring amongst themselves; some snickering, some hoping for a good fight.

Ron looked back at Harry and Hermione with an angry, confused look on his face.

"Harry..."

"They're together! You haven't seen?" Malfoy laughed, "What an idiot! And all behind your stupid back..."

He realized that it still wasn't registering with Ron and pointed at Harry and Hermione. "Look at them! Ask!"

Ron whipped back around and looked pointedly at them. He didn't need to ask anything. The guilty looks on their faces was enough. Hermione was almost in tears.

"Ron, we wanted to tell you all day today..." She put a hand on Ron's arm but he shook it off.

Harry stepped forward shaking his head. "I'm sorry... we were going to tell you soon...we just weren't sure how..."

"Weren't sure how!?" Ron snapped angrily taking a step back from them, "You walk up to me and you tell me! That's how!"

Harry opened and closed his fists in helplessness. "I... we just weren't sure how you'd take it!"

Ron stabbed a finger in Draco's direction. "Well I bloody well might've taken it better if it didn't have to come from Malfoy!"

Draco snickered wildly. "Knew you weren't on the bright side Weasley, but then you're family never really is. Look at it this way... at least you don't get stuck with the mudblood. One of you had too. Everyone knew it."

The whole crowd of students did a collective intake of breath at Malfoy's comments, and began talking louder amongst themselves. Most hadn't heard Malfoy use that word before... if they had they would've remembered Ron trying to curse him with a belly full of slugs.

Both Harry and Ron seethed and whipped out their wands at the same time.

"Malfoy!" yelled Harry furiously pointing his wand.

Malfoy turned with a smirk but before he could even fully turn around, a livid Hermione marched past Ron and Harry and punched Draco so soundly across the face that he stumbled backward.

Draco held his cheek and stared at Hermione in astonishment.

Harry and Ron began to rush forward but stopped at a look from Hermione. She turned back to Draco, visibly shaken from what she had just done; although her voice didn't betray it.

"Don't EVER speak to me or about me like that ever again Malfoy! Maybe you should learn what class is!"

Draco gritted his teeth and reached for his wand but Harry was quicker. "Immobulus!" His wand shot out a blue streak of energy that rendered Malfoy completely unable to move, except for his eyes.

At that moment, Snape stormed out of his classroom glaring at the collective crowd. Swiping his greasy black hair from his face, he spoke to them in his trademark condescending way.

"What is going on here? Perhaps it was thought by you all that class was to be held in the hallway today... Potter, you're idea?"

Snape's small eyes fixed on Harry as usual, and as usual, he glared nastily back.

The students glanced sideways at the still form of Malfoy and then to the other three as they edged and shouldered their way past them into the classroom.

Hermione drew in a sharp intake of breath. Snape still hadn't noticed that Malfoy hadn't moved. She, Harry and Ron also stayed put, hoping Snape would walk into the classroom first so that they could counter curse Malfoy before the Professor noticed.

Snape tilted his head sarcastically towards Harry. "Well Potter, class won't teach itself, and unfortunately, you're still not famous enough for me to abandon them to teach you and yours in the hallway. So when you care to join us..." He whirled neatly away and marched back into his classroom.

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed. As she and Harry walked past Malfoy and headed into the room, Ron stopped in front of him and pointed his wand in the other boy's face, grinning maliciously.

Malfoy's eyes widened as Ron stepped closer, letting his wand tip rest just under the blonde's nose.

"Mobulus."

It was just a whisper, but as Malfoy's body relaxed from the curse he almost fell backwards in an attempt to get away from Weasley.

Ron continued to stare at Draco dangerously, but calmly walked past him into the classroom.

Shaken, Malfoy closed his eyes briefly and swallowed. Weasley could've done anything to him just then. He calmed himself and slowly made it inside.

***************************************

After class, Harry left Hermione with an apology and ran after Ron, who was trying his best to avoid him. He finally caught up with him right before he could reach the Divination classroom and grabbed his arm.

"Ron, wait!"

"What'd you want Harry, we're gonna be late," said Ron rather testily.

Harry winced at the stitch in his side and spoke through bated breath. "Look, I'm sorry. We really were going to tell you. I... we were just waiting for the right time."

"So how long?" began Ron angrily, "How long have I been an idiot!? I should've seen it all along..."

"All along!?" Harry cut him off in surprise, "This just happened last night... after you went to bed."

Ron breathed out heavily and sighed, dropping his books to the floor and seating himself. Harry followed.

"Harry, maybe you're more stupid than I am."

Confused, Harry opened his mouth to answer in the negative, but thought better of it and slumped against the wall. "I swear Ron... just last night. I guess we just realized what we felt and..."

"Look," Ron cut him off, more angrily than before. "I'm not off because you and 'Mione have a thing, ok? I'm off because you didn't tell me straight away today, and I guess because... well..."

At that moment Professor Trelawny glided to the classroom door intending to close it and saw Harry and Ron camped out outside.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I believe class is starting." Her eyes, three times their normal size behind her enormously thick glasses, narrowed at the two young men.

Ron sighed and stood, Harry following. "Lunch is after, we'll talk more then," said Ron following Trelawny inside.

Harry stood and shook the dark hair testily from his eyes reluctantly following Ron in. Divination was among his least favorite classes.

Class went as usual. Trelawny glided along each row collecting the homework assignments.

As usual, she frowned at Ron for the very short paragraph he handed in, and as usual, when she got to Harry, she looked at him with pity, and clucked and sighed, mumbling under her breath about what a pity it was to see such a promising young life cut so short.

Trelawny had been predicting Harry's early demise since the first day he walked into the classroom, so as the Professor passed him with another sigh, Harry rolled his eyes and slumped down in his seat.

Divination... nothing new.

As Harry sat trying hard to concentrate on the fresh air from the open window and not on the overly perfumed smell of the classroom, (Trelawny insisted on incense), he glanced over at Ron, who made sure that if he saw, he did not glance back.

He began to wonder if his and Ron's friendship would be able to sustain the initial weirdness of two of their tight three dating.

He wanted to make sure Ron knew that he would not be left out; that he and Hermione both still loved him, and he was their best friend, no matter what.

Harry thought of Hermione just then; how she must be in Arithmancy class alternating between trying hard to concentrate on work and worrying about Ron.

He knew her well enough to know that this was eating at her as much as he...

"Mr. Potter," called the elderly, ethereal voice from the front of the classroom.

Harry looked up from his day-dreaming to see Professor Trelawny's enormous eyes shooting concerned looks his way.

The entire class was a sea of upturned faces, all directed toward him... all except for Ron, who continued to work at his desk as if nothing was happening.

"Now that I have your attention," began Trelawny, "I see from your homework assignment that you have not studied your crystal properly." Her face fell as she continued. "Your report includes everything from Quidditch scores to personal involvement with Vol...(ahem) He-who-must-not-be-named, but contains nothing of the shortness of your life, or the tragic death that will ensue!"

Harry slumped down further in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose, moaning.

Lavender and Parvarti, fully believing everything Trelawny spoke or predicted, burst into tears, while others chuckled at Harry's utter embarrassment. The Professor continued rather tremulously.

"While we all regret it, it does no good to ignore facts... We have seen what we have seen..."

Harry found it even more annoying that when the Professor spoke of any of her visions, she began idiotically referring to herself in the third person. He groaned even louder. He'd had enough.

"Professor! All I ever see is haze! That's all most of the class sees. If I'm gonna die young, I haven't seen it... I don't even believe in this junk."

Trelawny took an involuntary step back in utter shock and dismay. While she was angry with the outburst, she still believed Potter to be in denial. There wasn't any other explanation, was there?

"Well!... Well..." she sputtered, pushing her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "Perhaps you should visit Madame Pomfrey; you do look a little pale...This may be what's causing your denial! Perhaps this is the beginning of the end..."

Harry started to speak again but at that moment, Ron finally raised his head from his work and slapped his quill down in anger.

"Rubbish!... Harry's not gonna die any more than I'm Quidditch captain! I never see anything either!"

"Me neither," sounded a voice from the back of the room.

"Nor me," began Seamus Finnegan.

"I don't either," said Dean Thomas from somewhere in the middle.

Trelawny realized quickly that she was losing control of her class and decided to nip it in the bud.

"Perhaps Mr. Weasley, you and Mr. Potter wish to sit out the rest of the class!" The angrier the Professor got, the more she began to resemble a blowfish. "I saw that coming, did you?"

Harry slumped down as far in his seat as he could without falling out, threw his head back and sighed.

Ron was already at the door as Harry sat up and grabbed his books, but he couldn't resist one last barb.

"Sure it's safe for me out there?" Harry deadpanned. The class exploded with laughter.

"OUT!" Trelawny pointed at the door furiously.

As Harry and Ron walked out of the room they spotted Dumbledore talking to three distinguished looking wizards and heading their way.

The wizards seemed to perk up particularly when Dumbledore, having spotted the two in the hallway, pointed towards them and spoke.

Harry and Ron, knowing that the Headmaster would question why they weren't in class, turned to slump away as quickly as possible.

"Harry, Ronald, one moment please." Dumbledore's pleasant scratchy old voice still held a presence of command that stopped the two in their tracks.

"We've had it," whispered Ron stiffly.

Dumbledore and the three gentlemen approached and the headmaster smiled knowingly at the two. "You haven't 'had it' quite yet Mr. Weasley. Whatever reason you two are lurking in the hallways can wait for the moment... Harry, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Ben Versval, Mr. Angus Cornbluth, and Mr. Kard Starven, the three Quidditch recruiters from the 'Knights'."

As Dumbledore introduced the wizards with him, Ron secretly had to wonder how the Headmaster was so gifted in certain things, like seeing through invisibility cloaks, and for the matter, hearing whispers from far away. Great Wizards, he was powerful.

Harry shook hands with each recruiter in turn and quietly surveyed the three. He had a hard time imagining in his young mind that they had ever played Quidditch, but reminded himself that Hogwarts had been open for many, many years.

Versval, was a stuffy looking man, who shook Harry's hand firmly, but seemed to be sizing him up starting at that very moment. His sharp gray eyes took in the younger man's entire form in one instant, and he smiled rather forcedly. His paunchy stomach and generally out-of-shape form indicated to Harry that it had been quite a while indeed since his Quidditch playing years.

"Nice to meet you Potter," he said stiffly, but not unkindly, "I've heard much about you from the Headmaster. Good luck on Friday... but I daresay you won't need much of it."

Harry nodded and his hand was snatched then by Cornbluth, who again seemed to take his job very seriously, but seemed much less stiff than his counterpart.

"I agree," he began without a smile, but cordially, "Dumbledore tells us that you catch the snitch nine times out of ten... an impressive record! We could very well use someone like you on our team. Prescott, our seeker, has recently become a new father and is bowing out, so we're currently looking to recruit. If you're worth it, we could stand another season of temporary replacements until you graduate."

At this, Ron brightened and slapped Harry's back, grinning at about ten thousand watts. "Lucky we're out here, huh?" he whispered.

The last to greet him was Starven, who moved towards the front of the little group and grinning largely, pumped Harry's hand with vigor.

He was a shorter man, but powerfully built. His balding head and the few wrinkles that lined his face showed that he was at least in his late forties, but he seemed still in shape and very enthusiastic about his job.

The looks that the other recruiters shot his way told Harry that they weren't very impressed with the man. In fact, they regarded him as somewhat of an overbearing personality. Harry would tend to agree soon enough.

"So fine to meet you Harry," he began with a gap-toothed grin, "Headmaster Dumbledore has been briefing us on all of our up and coming Quidditch players, but I had no idea that one of them was the great Harry Potter!"

Harry felt that the man was a little too sincere and removed his hand as soon as it was polite to do so. "I'm uh... not that great..."

"Modesty!" said Starven, slapping Harry on the back so hard he nearly stumbled down the hall, "All the great ones have it..."

Dumbledore smiled briefly. "Yes, well... Harry, to explain... I'm taking the recruiters around the school to familiarize them with our surroundings and to meet our team personally. This way they will know your names and faces to talk to you after the game... if necessary." His wizened blue eyes gave a great twinkle at his last statement.

Ron stared dumbfoundedly at the wizards. "Harry! This is great!...Getting to meet the recruiters before the game! It's fate we're out here!" He grinned wildly and slapped his friend on the back.

Harry secretly thought that the next one to slap him on the back was going to need a magisplint.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once again, this time at Ron. "Is it fate? Or would Professor Trelawny have a different explanation in mind?"

Ron's smile wavered. "Uh, maybe..."

Once again, Starven pushed to the front of the little group, much to the annoyance of the other wizards. He grinned arrogantly.

"Harry, one more thing... Could we have a look at that fabulous scar of yours? Being so famous, I bet you get asked that a lot."

"Well, I'd rather not, really..." began Harry uneasily.

"Let's see then," said Starven, not listening. Reaching over, he pushed some of Harry's unkempt locks from his forehead and leaned back, surveying him much as he would a new quaffle and bludger set from Quality Quidditch Supplies.

The other two wizards, while embarrassed at their counterpart's lack of courtesy, were still curious enough to stare covertly as well; all three oblivious to the irritation building on Harry's face.

"Well, and there it is..." said Starven surveying him rather subjectively, "Fabulous... just fabulous."

Harry's hand shot up and quickly pulled his hair down for cover. He rarely noticed the scar anymore, nor did anyone else in the school for that matter, so it irritated him to no end to be scrutinized like a piece of fascinating history.

His other hand, balled furiously into a fist, though he obviously wouldn't have used it, was quickly captured by Ron, with a warning stomp to his foot.

If looks really could kill, Ron would have certainly been in trouble at that moment, but he chose to ignore it, and stared ahead innocently. None of this went unnoticed by Dumbledore.

(Ahem) "Well gentlemen shall we move on? We've many more players to meet."

The wizards nodded amiably and began to follow the Headmaster, but Starven grabbed Harry's hand again and pumped it once more. "Brilliant to have met you Mr. Potter..."

"Brilliant..." repeated Harry through clenched teeth. The set of his jaw and the flash in his eyes were all too familiar to Ron.

Classrooms suddenly began filing out, with students milling past them, glancing strangely at the wizard with Harry and Ron.

"Well, gotta go!" said Ron pulling Harry away from the firm grasp. "Can't be late for lunch... Most important class of the day, you know!" He laughed uneasily.

Starven released Harry's hand and called after them as he walked to catch up to Dumbledore and his fellow recruiters. "Goodbye, Harry! I've a feeling we'll be speaking a lot more to each other."

"Don't count on it," said Harry under his breath, waving to Starven.

****************************************

Harry and Ron made their way towards the Great Hall amidst the mass of five hundred or so other Hogwarts students headed the same way.

As they walked, Harry glanced over at Ron to see if he could detect whether Ron was still angry or not. Finally, he decided to make absolutely sure and grabbed Ron's arm, pulling him aside.

"Harry, I'm starving," Ron protested.

"Are you still upset? I want to get things straight with you now, before we see Hermione..."

Ron sighed and stared down at the floor, shifting his books from one arm to the other. "I'm not angry anymore, Harry. I just wish you and 'Mione would trust me a little more..." He ran a hand through his bright red hair, reminiscent of Harry. "To tell you the truth, I'm more worried than mad... If something goes sour between you two, all three of us get involved, you know? Things might not ever be the same..."

He might have continued, but just then someone shoved between the two, barreling into them so hard that Ron's books were knocked from his hands.

"Hey!" began Ron angrily, "What the bloody hell..."

But Harry had stumbled back and found himself face to face with a flushed and very irate Malfoy. Both straightened up almost reflexively at the sight of each other and glared fiercely.

Malfoy took a step closer to Harry and came almost nose to nose with him. "If I were you Potter, I'd keep a closer watch on the mudblood..." his jaw clenched angrily, "and on the poor church mouse there." He nodded Ron's way before continuing. "If either of them ever try a stunt like that again, or you for that matter, I'll pay you back so hard you'll wish you'd never even met me."

Harry took a step forward forcing Draco to take a step back and patted him roughly on the cheek. "How's the jaw?" he smirked viciously. Cocking his head to one side, he glanced at Ron who had finally picked up all of his things. "Hermione must throw one bloody hell of a punch, aye Ron?"

Ron grinned and nodded, raising an eyebrow and glancing ever so subtly at Malfoy's jawline.

Reflexively, Malfoy raised a hand to his cheek where a nice large welt would soon be turning into a bruise. He threw withering glares Harry and Ron's way and began to walk away toward the Slytherin table, but not before warning Harry again. "Remember what I said scarhead."

Ron couldn't help but twist the knife, just a little. "So Harry!" he yelled with the obvious intention of letting the whole school hear, "About what we were talking about, how exactly does it feel to be punched by a girl?"

Harry grinned, catching on. "Wouldn't know... Never been! We could ask Malfoy though... something tells me he's an expert!"

A fair number of students caught on to the joke and turned Draco's way, some snickering, some wondering when Malfoy had gotten himself punched.

Malfoy stopped mid-stride and whipped around, causing students to bump into one another to stay out of his way. They scowled at him, muttering as they passed.

For a moment, he merely glared at the two, and then stomped back to them. Since Harry and Ron were now side by side, Draco took the opportunity to stand face to face with both, but addressed Harry.

"Watch your back at the game Friday, Potter." If Harry and Ron hadn't been right in front of him, they mightn't have been able to hear the low threatening words. "Sometimes those bludgers get knocked off course and go straight for someone else. Funny how that happens, don't you think?"

Harry smiled back at him humorlessly with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Are you threatening me? Because that wouldn't be wise..."

Ron breathed in furiously, about ready to finish what Hermione had started earlier when she suddenly came walking up; oblivious at first to Malfoy. Her smile fell dramatically when she saw him, obviously enjoying a show-down with Ron and Harry.

"Oh hi," she said rather loudly and drolly.

Malfoy turned his sneer on her and opened his mouth to speak.

"How's the cheek, by the way?" Hermione interjected, "I'm so awfully sorry! I don't know what came over me. Does it hurt much?... Looks like it..."

Draco clenched his jaw and the rest of his face turned as red as the welt. He took a bullying stomp towards Hermione, but when she didn't flinch, he turned, trying to put on a disaffected air.

"Remember Potter, threats are only threats until they're made good on..." Then he turned a snotty look toward Ron and acknowledged him with a pompous lift of his chin. "Weasel.."

He smiled mirthlessly then, fire sparkling in his eyes, and finally headed back to Slytherin's table.

Both Ron and Harry smiled affectionately at Hermione. No one could put a guy back in his place quite like her.

She shook her head in Malfoy's direction and turned back to them. "What was all that about, then?"

"Just rubbish," sighed Harry irritably.

Ron grinned lopsidedly and threw an arm around his two friends. "...think you hurt his ego," he said leaning his head towards Hermione, but glancing at Malfoy at his table, "You really do throw one bloody hell of a punch."

"Really!" Hermione rolled her eyes and began leading them towards the Gryffindor table. "Well honestly! Just because I'm a girl means I'm not supposed to be able to flatten someone..." She plopped down at the table with Harry beside her and Ron opposite them.

Ron began to eat.

"Well I wouldn't want you mad at me," Harry grinned and playfully pinched Hermione on the cheek. Hermione smiled slightly and slapped his hand away.

"Ow!"

"Don't give me any reason to be."

Harry smiled impishly at her but caught a look at Ron at the same time Hermione did.

Ron had sombered, and ate his soup and sandwich quietly, concentrating a lot harder, it seemed, than needed. Immediately, Hermione's face fell. She reached an arm over to Ron and took hold of his wrist.

Ron stopped eating at the touch and blinking once, turned his gaze up to meet theirs.

"Ron..."

"I'm all right 'Mione," he began, sighing. "It's just..."

He placed his forehead on his palm, staring down at the table for a moment. "Will...will you both promise me something..." It was more a demand than a request.

"Of course! Anything Ron..." began Hermione earnestly.

Ron held up a hand for her to wait, and looked up. "Promise me that whatever happens with you two that we will always be friends," he looked almost harshly at both of them, "and this won't turn us, like...wierd...with each other, all right?"

"'Course not!" began Harry, almost as if the thought were ludicrous. "Ron how could you think that..."

"'Cause I've seen it before!" said Ron. "Remember Seamus and Dean and Lavender? Dean and Lavender began dating and then Seamus was slowly out of the picture...Then when those two broke up, none of their friendships were the same!"

"Ron, it won't be like that with us," began Hermione, squeezing Ron's arm. She brought her other hand over to rest on Harry's arm as well. "We've been through too much together. All of us...We're a team."

Harry turned to Ron and nodded, giving Ron's other arm a boyish squeeze. Hermione looked back and forth between them and began tearing up. Harry noticed and began to grin.

"Oh,n... Hermione! Dry up!" Ron wailed, rolling his eyes and letting his shoulders fall. "Look, we're just eating here! It's just a sandwich... see? The soup's not that bad Hermione!" He yelled loud enough for all of the Great Hall to hear.

Hermione ducked quickly and swiping a tear from her cheek, reached over and punched Ron in the shoulder.

***********************************

Defense Against the Dark Arts went quickly for the three, with Malfoy, seated along with Crabbe and Goyle, shooting murderous looks their way almost the entire time. The whole classroom seemed to feel the tension, especially the new teacher, who had been a graduate with high honors from Beauxbatons about ten years prior. It was an understatement to say that Misseur de Voncrey, who moved to England for the experience of a new country, was having to get used to the new school, and the differences between French and English witches and wizards.

His students in particular, had far different ways of dealing with feuds between one another. For example, de Voncrey never remembered having to deal with a student trying to hex another student in the middle of class, but that was precisely what he had caught Draco Malfoy doing, and no less, to a girl.

As soon as he had detected the unrelenting eye contact and mutterings under his breath from Malfoy, he had strode over to the Slytherin's desk and snatched his wand away from him, sending him out to the hallway to cool off.

No matter how much the English were supposed to be known for their coolness and aloofness, the Professor was beginning to learn differently. The English, while proper by most standards, were from his point of view, most definitely hotheads.

Granger, for her part, seemed surprised that Malfoy would try something in class, and her eyes widened accordingly when Draco was upbraided in front of the whole student body and told to sit out the rest of the period.

Malfoy didn't seem to mind though. Apparently, the thought that the other student knew what he had been trying was enough to drive his point home. It wasn't a particularly dangerous hex, but enough to give the recipient a particularly bad stomach sickness that could put them in the infirmary for a couple of days. Payback, it seemed.

English... sighed de Voncrey.

*************************************

Wanting to avoid another run in with Malfoy after class, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried quickly outside towards Hagrid's hut, where behind it, in a makeshift barn, he would be teaching Care of Magical Creatures. They needn't have hurried though; Malfoy didn't show.

The giant lumbered out of his hut just in time to see the three Gryffindors trot up. "Well! 'Lo 'arry! 'ermione, Ron... Got a special treat fer ya today."

Hagrid's eyes lit up as the rest of the class joined the three. Sixth year Gryffindors, some of Hufflepuff, and Slytherin all held class together this period.

After scanning the crowd, Hagrid noticed with his characteristically sharp eyes that one student was missing.

"Where's Draco Malfoy then...better be a good excuse. Today's class's particularly important."

His eyes narrowed as he took in the forms of Crabbe and Goyle, trying unsuccessfully to hide in the back of the crowd. For Goyle, that was like a hippogriff trying to hide behind a flag pole.

"You two then!" bellowed Hagrid, though not unkindly.

Crabbe and Goyle turned around slowly and looked at Hagrid while trying to swallow the lump of fear in their throats. It didn't bode well to lie to a giant, even one as gentle as Hagrid, so they opted for the truth.

"He's gone up to see Madame Pomfrey," said Crabbe.

"Madame Pomfrey?" Hagrid replied, "Wha's the boy gone and done ta 'imself now?'

"Done by another!" Goyle spoke up, "His face is starting to... well it's sort of, turning a bit purple."

"Purple!?"

"A bit..."

"Just at the jaw area..." finished Crabbe, "Well it's... it's a bruise."

The two Slytherin looked down at the ground as if they'd just broken a great confidence. The class began to snicker, and at the word 'bruise', Hermione's eyes widened and she coughed suddenly, hiding a small smile.

"A bruise ain' nothin'!" began Hagrid as he turned to lead the class towards the barn, "Woulda' healed on its own soon enough..."

"He didn't want anyone noticin', I guess..." began Seamus Finnegan with a laugh, "No pride in bein' walloped by a girl."

Hagrid turned then, confused. "A girl!?"

The class stopped suddenly, bumping into one another with the sudden halt.

"It was..." began Seamus, but a murderous look from the much bigger, much meaner Goyle stopped him. "Um... an accident," Seamus finished, flinching as Goyle took a ham-sized fist and punched it into his other hand, pointing at him.

Hagrid didn't seem to notice. "Hmm... ah well, ain' no harm I guess, but you two'll 'ave to get 'im up to speed on this lesson," Hagrid pointed in Crabbe and Goyle's general direction.

The giant stopped at the entrance of the barn, where there stood four large crates. From inside, a shrieking noise emitted that caused most of the class to take an involuntary step backward. When sparks began escaping out of the corners of the boxes, they stepped away even further.

For most, COMC class was not their favorite. Hagrid's idea of a magnificent creature usually involved something scary and potentially harmful.

"Hagrid, please don't let those be blast-ended skrewts again!" pleaded Dean Thomas, who had gotten a particularly nasty burn from one he had tried to round up a couple of years ago in Hagrid's class.

"Nope, 'taint them," said Hagrid, grinning and slapping the top one of the crates. The creatures inside seemed to dislike the jostling that gave them and began shrieking and sparking even more.

Hagrid dipped his head slightly to the side and sighed. "Now come on, get closer. Don' be afraid. I wouldn' get ya anythin' ta work on tha' would really cause ya 'arm."

He lifted a small crow bar and wedged open one of the box sides, letting it fall to the ground with a loud thud.

Harry, Hermione and Ron stepped closer, mouths` gaping open.

Inside the crate were three two foot tall rock shaped creatures, with leash and cable on each one. If forced to describe them, Harry would've said they looked like knee-high dragons with rock scales. When completely still, they could pass rather well for medium sized boulders. But unfortunately, these were far from still. On the contrary, they seemed to be quite agitated at the moment; all three able only to fly about one foot from the ground with their tiny wings, and producing streams of sparks from their nostrils.

Their small wrinkly faces and long snouts, Ron noticed, were full of tiny, potentially harmful teeth.

Hagrid grinned even larger and sighed, enraptured. "Ain' they wunnerful...Mighty cute they are."

He squatted to scratch one under the chin, and the creature in turn, nipped Hagrid's finger hard enough to make him howl and pull it back quickly. He sucked on it and glanced at the creature reproachfully.

"A bit outta sorts righ' now..."

Hermione stumbled back into Harry and Ron as one pulled on its leash and snapped its small teeth at her.

"Hagrid, what are those?" began Hermione, pulling her arms in reflexively.

Hagrid gaped at her, and seeing that the rest of the class was just as ignorant, he began his lesson. "Them!? Them are Flame Drocks!... Ya mean in all th' time you' been at 'ogwarts ya ne'er been taught 'bout these!?"

"Think I'd remember," said Ron, yanking a close limb away from a particularly grumpy one.

"What're they for?" asked Harry, pulling Hermione farther back from the crates.

"For!?" began Hagrid reproachfully, "They're creatures 'arry... They exis' 'cause they do; jus' like you an' me. But if you're meanin' what're we learnin''em for..." Hagrid's eyes narrowed as if he were about to divulge a great secret, but he spoke loud enough for the whole class to hear.

"Well, they're a lot like reg'lar dragons, see, but when they breathe fire, th' ash tha's lef' from whate'er they burn can be made into a pow'rful medicinal draught. Good fer sicknesses, superficial wounds and the like."

"But why..." began Seamus.

"But why can tha ash be used?" Hagrid cut in excitedly as if knowing what Seamus was going to ask. Actually, Seamus was going to ask why they had to actually handle them.

"I's 'cause a their diet!" Hagrid answered his own question. "See, Flame Drocks on'y eat macurel slugs, which..."

Hermione's eyes widened brightly. "Macurel slugs! I know about them! I read it in Magical Insects and Cures! The macurel slug lives off of the hardrake bush, which in itself holds no medicinal power, but when combined with the digestive system of the macurel slug, it has the power to heal! Well...some things." Hermione began to inch wonderingly closer to the drocks. "Hagrid, is that why macurel slugs glow?"

Harry again grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her back with a warning glance.

"Tha's righ' Hermione!" Hagrid began, obviously excited that someone found his class as interesting as he did. "And tha's also why th' Flame Drocks can breathe fire like normal dragons. Th' glow slug diet gives 'em somewha' of an 'incandescen' heartburn' ya could say."

"Well fascinating," said Ron rather dryly, "So, what's our chore?"

"Well, they ain' been fed yet today," Hagrid began, "So I wan' all of ya ta split up into teams an' pick three people from yer teams ta walk 'em so's they can grub. Take 'em roun' rocks and boulders ta find the macurels. The slugs usually hide there. Tha's also why Flame Drocks have their wunnerful rock hide camouflage. When they sit really still an' th' macurel slugs glide up, i's lunchtime." Hagrid finished with glee.

The giant grinned wildly with expectation as he watched the teams of six choose who would be the three lucky walkers.

In actuality there was much arguing about filling these roles, as no one wanted to volunteer.

"You do it Harry," began Seamus, pushing him forward, "You're a great wizard."

"Shove off," replied Harry in annoyance. "How 'bout you Dean? You were good with the mandrakes." He pushed Dean forward.

"Mandrakes are in Herbology, and they can't burn you..." said Dean, stepping back again.

"They shriek like mandrakes," said Ron, shoving Dean forward again.

"How about Neville?" said Parvarti Patil, grabbing Longbottom's arm, "He's good in Herbology too..."

Neville's eyes widened as he took a step back. "I can't even control my frog!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh bloody hell!" She marched forward and grabbed a leash, pulling one forward. As it was too hungry to think about the person leading it, the drock just began pulling her along, heading toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where there were plenty of rocks and boulders that served as a sort of visible line not to cross. "I'll take one, Harry you and Ron take the other two. For pete's sake..." Her voice trailed off as she walked.

Ron rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "Well, c'mon Harry."

Both boys grabbed a leash, keeping it as far away from their bodies as their arm lengths would allow.

"Tha's the spirit!" cried Hagrid happily, "You others, if'n a drock turns any plant ta ash, take these jars an' fill 'em with it. Madame Pomfrey'll be glad ta refill her stock."

Several students fought each other and rushed forward to be the lucky ones to carry the jars. Hagrid frowned. No one ever seemed to volunteer in his class.

After a few minor burns, much slug eating by the drocks, and a few gathered ash piles, class was finally over. The Flame Drocks, having finally been returned to Hagrid's barn, seemed happier with full bellies. In sleep, Hermione noted with wonder, they looked so much like boulders that it would have been really hard to pick them out had they not had a class on them.

Having turned in the four or five jars of ashes to Hagrid that were collected, the class was dismissed. It was four o'clock, which left two hours before dinner.

Ron and Hermione planned to sit in the Gryffindor common room and study for the OWL finals, but Harry had Quidditch practice.

Quickly they made it back to the school and through the halls, with still no sign or run in with Malfoy, much to their relief.

"Chocolate frogs," said Harry to the portrait of the fat lady.

She sniffed condescendingly and swung open for them.

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand quickly and took the stairs two at a time to change into his uniform. He knew he still had a few minutes before practice, but wanted to sit down for a while first.

He descended a few minutes later in his signature long red cloak, form fitting khaki colored pants, black knee boots, and knee and wrist pads, dragging the Firebolt 2004 that Sirius had given him last year behind him.

Hermione secretly thought that Harry never looked sexier than when he was in that uniform. She had to avert her eyes to keep him from seeing what she was thinking.

Colin Creevey, a short, skinny, mouse-like fourth year who had idolized Harry from the moment he met him, had been hanging out in a corner of the common room until Harry emerged.

Being his biggest fan, and the unofficial photographer for the school paper, Colin took the opportunity to photograph Harry blind as he headed for the overstuffed chairs in front of the hearth where Ron and Hermione sat.

Harry shielded his eyes from the flashes, and being at least a foot taller than the fourth year, he picked Creevey up by the shoulders and set him to the side, continuing on to a chair and dumping himself down. He looked extremely annoyed, which delighted Ron to no end.

"Harry he just admires you," began Hermione.

"It's annoying!"

"Ah, the price of fame..." smirked Ron as Colin came walking around Harry's chair.

"Shove off..." Harry shot back.

Colin stepped in front of his chair. "Sorry, Harry! I just wanted to get a couple of pictures of you headed to practice the day before the big game." He then whipped out a small notepad, and pencil from behind his ear.

"So, feel confident about the match tomorrow?"

Harry lifted an eyebrow and glanced drolly back at the younger boy. "Colin, I thought you were just the photographer..."

"Sometimes they let me do small interviews!" replied Colin excitedly, "Especially when it's one I really want! I asked specifically for this one..."

Harry saw Hermione give him an "Aw Harry, let him" look and favored her with a lopsided grin.

Hermione read the resigned look on his face and grinned at him, turning back to her studying.

Harry also caught Ron mouthing something that looked suspiciously like "You're whipped" at him and scowled accordingly. Ron grinned down at his book.

Hermione may have been trying to concentrate on her upcoming tests, but her eyes kept unavoidably gliding over to Harry, seated in front of the hearth. His shock of dark brown hair was mussed even more from his quick changing, and the questions from Colin kept bringing amused grins to his face.

She saw the sharp outline of muscles underneath the uniform, and couldn't help but notice his tall, lean form as he slumped carelessly in the chair.

Once Harry caught her eyeing him past Colin and lifted his eyebrows, giving her a quick grin.

She blushed furiously and scowled halfway between a return grin. It irked her sometimes that he could make her feel that way, but she noticed that the return gaze was an appreciative one.

Finally, Colin snapped his notebook shut and replaced the pencil behind his ear. "Thanks a lot Harry! I'll be rooting for you tomorrow!"

Hermione and Ron watched as he climbed happily up the stairs to the boys dorms, undoubtedly to begin writing his article.

Hermione turned back to Harry.

"That was really sweet, I..."

"Oh yes Harry, that was awfully sweet," Ron cut in with a silly high voice. He stood, trying to keep a grin off of his face and wiggled his hips over to Harry. "You sure look big and strong in that uniform...I...I'm really attracted to you right now."

Harry rolled his eyes and backed away with a smirk. "Ron..."

"Don't you want to give me just one little kiss? It won't take long..." Ron squealed and threw his arms around Harry.

"Get off!" Harry laughed, shoving Ron aside.

Ron landed in a heap on the couch, laughing so hard that his cheeks hurt.

Hermione, her cheeks burning, replied by punching Ron in the side. "Funny, Ron. You big git." But she couldn't hide her smile.

Harry was a little red.

"Enjoy it Potter?" Ron guffawed in between breaths. Other Gryffindors across the room were snickering as well.

Harry flushed and swiped his hair back a little nervously.

"Ok, well... gotta go... See you at dinner!" He snatched Hermione's hand and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing his broom and heading for the portrait door.

"What, none for me!?" Ron squealed.

"Shut it, Ron," Harry threw back at him and let the door slam behind him.

*****************************************

Chapter 3

Harry sauntered out towards the Quidditch field, intending to find only his fellow team members, but was greeted again by the three recruiters who would be choosing candidates at tomorrow’s game.

"Well, hello again, Mr. Potter," beamed a much more amiable Mr. Versval. Apparently, watching the teams practice was bringing back a little of the old excitement for the three wizards. "We're most anxious to see your team in action... Nice broom! A Firebolt 2004; nice model. May I see it?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, of course."

Oliver Wood, Harry's former Quidditch captain eyed him from the top of the Gryffindor sides tower as he peered down, scanning the field.

"Oy Potter!"

Harry heard the voice from above him and squinted up to see Wood leaning out of the tower.

"You're late!" continued Wood, "C'mon, we only have the field for an hour before Slytherin gets it!"

Harry sighed. "I'll be up in a minute," he called out. He wasn't late... Wood was always early.

Wood had come back to Hogwarts after he graduated to take Madame Hootches' place as overseer of the game, but also took it upon himself, with the encouragement of McGonnagol, to continue to be the coach for Gryffindor. Not that Harry minded; Wood was the best keeper Harry had seen in his six years, and he knew the game well. But Oliver could be a bit demanding. He breathed, slept, and ate Quidditch, and as a result, it made him a bit overbearing.

Harry turned back to see that Cornbluth was now fingering his broom lovingly.

"Ah, Harry, how I envy you. I used to be quite the Quidditch player myself... A beater, I was... From Ravenclaw. We were the best team back then."

Harry took in his gray, slightly balding head and wrinkles and secretly marveled that Hogwarts had been around for that long. In reality, Hogwarts had been around for a thousand years or more, which he might've known, had he read Hogwarts, a History as thoroughly as Hermione had.

Gingerly, Harry took his broom back. "Well, I'd better get up there before Wood wets himself," he grinned. He turned and straddled his broom.

Starven had been unusually quiet, having been eyeing the playing field and surrounding grounds for a while. He snapped his gaze back to Harry right before he kicked off, startled as he'd been lost in thought.

"Well good luck Harry!" he grinned, flashing the gap in his teeth and slapping Harry's back amiably, "We're all looking forward to seeing what kind of seeker you are."

Harry kicked off from the ground. "Yeah, me too," he joked half-heartedly.

Up in the tower, Wood gave Harry a stern look as he glided in the doorway and tossed himself lightly from his broom. Oliver immediately began addressing the whole team.

Fred and George Weasley, being in their last year at Hogwarts, were eager to go out with a bang and beat the pants off of Slytherin in the process, but as usual, lacked the discipline to stand still for long to hear Wood's speech. They were supposed to have graduated the year before, but much to their parents shame, hadn't had the O.W.L.s to do so. Harry remembered well the reaming Molly Weasley had given them for paying more attention to their plans for the joke shop than to their studies, and inwardly winced. He hoped for their sakes that there wouldn't be a repeat of that this year, much as he was glad to still have them on Gryffindor's Quidditch team.

As the team listened to Wood eagerly explaining his latest strategies, Harry took a moment to thoughtfully survey his fellow players.

Not many of the original team players from his first year were left, save George and Fred, the beaters. Most of the others had graduated, and some had opted to devote more time to studies. There was the keeper, Michelle Keys, the only girl on the team this year. She was tall and strongly built, with reddish brown hair, and a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. Harry thought she was close to becoming as good a keeper as Oliver had been, probably due to the fact that Wood took time specifically with her to make sure she was. Fred and George teased Wood mercilessly about this, but Harry knew better. Wood had been dating Alicia Spinnet, a former chaser on the team, ever since he graduated.

There was also Marcus Wallaby, Peter Gallor and Darren Millhouse, all chasers. Marcus and Peter were both fifth years, and very good at capturing the quaffle and hanging on to it. They were best friends, and had been thrilled at both getting picked for the team back in their third year.

Darren, a fourth year, was a fast learner. He had been told to watch Gallor and Wallaby in action, and had learned accordingly.

And of course there was himself, finally. Harry had been seeker since his first year at Hogwarts. Back then, the youngest seeker in the school in a century; Ron had informed him.

Harry snapped his attention back to Wood, and in the process saw George and Fred quietly trying to offer Marcus a piece of ton-tongue toffee.

Wallaby, having been pre-warned about the twins, and their intention to open "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" joke shop after graduation, immediately suspected them and waved his hand at them, stepping back at the same time.

The twins looked a little peeved that their plan hadn't worked. Lately one of their favorite pastimes was not only tricking fellow students, but hacking off Wood. Having one of his team players flying with two feet of engorged tongue flapping in the breeze behind him would've done it.

Not missing a beat, Oliver snatched the toffee and tossed it out of the exit way, causing an outburst from Fred and George.

"What'd you go and do that for!?" Fred began angrily, "we only have a few of those left!"

"Honestly Wood, you're no fun anymore," said George.

"Did you hear anything I said!?" began Wood rather hotly. He tried to calm himself down. "Look, you guys and Potter more than anyone else here should be thinking about this game! Sixth and seventh years are the ones the recruiters are looking at and you're on about that stupid thousand pound caramel!"

"Ton-tongue toffee," corrected George, "Get it right."

Wood sighed irritably. "Look do you care about the game or not!?"

"Sure...sure. Sorry Oliver. Go on..." said Fred, shifting to his other leg.

Wood threw his arms up in defeat. "Well I'm done anyway. You're all great players and you know what to do... Ok. Let's do it."

The team members all mounted their brooms, and at a word from Wood they all shot out from the tower and soaring high, began to circle the field.

Wood climbed down from the tower and walked towards the Quidditch game chest he had left on the ground near the gate surrounding the field. He found it surrounded not only by the three recruiters, but by a throng of reporters from the Daily Prophet and the witches magazine Witch Weekly. He winced inwardly. He had talked with Dumbledore and McGonnagol just a few days ago about restricting the press until the day of the game. He knew that this particular game would be covered because of the importance the recruiters brought in possibly choosing their newest players from Hogwarts, but he had hoped that the coverage could wait. Dumbledore explained that the press had specifically asked to be there the day before the game to get before and after shots of the players, as well as interviews with them and the recruiters. All the same, Wood didn't like it. He wanted his player's minds on the game, and not on getting famous. He also didn't want his own attention diverted.

As he wove his way towards the chest, he was immediately set upon by the reporters, their camera men, and enchanted floating microphones.

"Mr. Wood, how do you feel about the match tomorrow?"

Wood blinked furiously at the flashes half blinding him.

"Um, confidant... 'scuse me..."

"Oliver, is your team ready for the Slytherin rematch? Word is that Slytherin has really been practicing hard to make up for last year..."

"We have too...I really have to get to the field."

"One moment, Mr. Wood... Is it true that Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, is still Gryffindor's seeker?... Do you feel his extra-ordinary powers lend more support than normal for your team? Is there anyone on your team this year that stands out to you?"

"Do you or anyone you know ever fear an attack from You-Know-Who because of Potter?"

"How is he holding up owing to the recent disclosure that Vol... that HE is on the move again?"

This caught Wood's attention and he halted so quickly that the two reporters ran into him.

"What'd you mean 'on the move again'? I haven't heard this! What the... Harry!"

Potter heard his name as he circled the field and began to dip lower to meet Wood on the ground.

The reporters, seeing they might get an opportunity to speak to Potter, scrambled to catch up to Wood as he carried the chest onto the field.

"Harry! No wait, I'll come up there! Hang on!...No, no more questions. I'm done." Wood directed the last comments to the reporters, and they stopped with a defeatist manner.

"Wait Mr. Wood, just a few more..."

"NO!" Wood dropped the chest with a thud and kicked it open, letting the bludgers and snitch dart up into the ring. He then picked up the quaffle and tossed it up.

Fred caught it and zoomed away with it. Marcus, being on the opposite team began giving chase, narrowly missing a bludger.

"Go ahead and start!" Wood yelled up to the team, "I only need Harry for a moment!" He mounted his broom and zoomed up high, just outside of the field where Harry hovered, waiting.

The reporters sighed. No more questions meant shorter news columns.

The wind whipped his and Harry's robes as they hovered together.

"Um...Oliver, I don't think I was that late," said Harry rubbing behind his ear.

"..Not what this is about Harry," began Oliver darkly, "Have you heard any reports about movement from Voldemort or any dark wizards lately?"

"What?" Harry was so surprised that he nearly fell off of his broom. "NO! Of course not! It's been a long time since his last attack, Wood..."

"The reporters down there seem to think he's on the move again," said Oliver, as usual getting to the point. "I know this might not be the best time to talk to you about it, but I thought you'd want to know."

Harry shook his head, trying to get his thoughts re-ordered. "Dumbledore would've told me if anything had been confirmed... And if Voldemort or anyone working for him were anywhere near, I'd probably know about it." He rubbed his scar absently, knowing that Wood knew what he meant.

"...Could just be rumor," began Oliver again, "You know there's been a lot of that lately, since it's been so long since he's made a move. But usually the real press don't mention it if it is. It's not like that's Astrology Monthly down there."

Harry nodded, feeling more than a little perplexed. If it was rumor, then they had nothing to worry about. Then again if it was true, why hadn't his scar hurt? It usually took the dark lord or one of his lackeys to be near in order for him to feel it, so at least he knew that there wasn't anyone dark on school grounds. And most certainly Dumbledore would've notified him of anything, as it usually involved him.

Harry informed Oliver of such, and both decided not to worry until or if anything was confirmed.

"All right... but just keep an eye out," finished Wood, "and you'd do well to keep an eye out for those close to you too."

"I know..." Harry replied with a grave nod. He knew all too well.

Harry joined practice as Wood flew back to the Gryffindor tower to watch, and also to avoid the press down below. It was five forty-five, and dusk had begun to settle owing to the late fall season. So, as it was darker, and the crowd either watched the practice, or talked amongst themselves, no one noticed as one person slipped away, gathered a broom he had stolen from the Quidditch lockers, and walking far enough away from the crowd, mounted it, heading deep into the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

**************************************

Chapter 4

The broom rider quaked inwardly as he made his way deeper and deeper through the dark trees and underbrush, intending to pass completely through the Forbidden Forest and continue on into the even darker and more forbidding Forest of Kavan. Ever since the student from Slytherin house named Stuart Kavan rode into the forest in 1959 and never re-emerged, the forest, aptly re-named Kavan, was strictly off limits.

In fact, the rider knew, from then on the students at Hogwarts were never told of the separate forests' existence, probably owing to the fact that they weren't even allowed into the Forbidden Forest, much less beyond that. It would have been too tempting to reveal that type of information.

As far as today's students knew, the Forbidden Forest was the only forest off of Hogwarts grounds. In fact, Kavan began right where Hogwarts ended and stretched some twenty miles further.

The rider hoped to himself that he would keep from coming across any dangerous creatures on his journey. He knew of the strange creatures that existed here from his years at Hogwarts. Centaurs, giant spiders, unicorns, flame drocks... he had no wish to run into any of these, or any others. After all... he was headed to meet the most dangerous, evil creature there was. He didn't need any more trouble than that.

The thought of his upcoming meeting and debriefing with his lord Voldemort made the man quake with fear. If he could, he would finally leave the dark lord, but Voldemort didn't take defection lightly. The man had been found by the dark lord long ago, and rather than be killed, had decided to join him, out of fear as much as out of a feeling of being drawn to the power and mystery that he had, and the fact that if joined with him, he might have that same power. After joining, the dark lord had offered him the position of right hand man, should he complete his tasks with no mistakes; and so far, he had. But his final one, delivering Harry Potter, off of school grounds for that matter, was going to prove to be a lot harder than Voldemort realized. Harry was well protected and well on his way to becoming a powerful wizard.

The servant had been with Voldemort almost from the beginning, even back when he was only referred to as Tom Riddle. He knew almost just as much history of Harry Potter as the dark lord did. He remembered the fateful day the dark lord had killed young Harry's parents, and returned to him bodiless, to recant the story to him of the backfire his killing curse had caused when directed towards James and Lily's baby. At that point, the servant had left him for a time, only made possible by Voldemort's weakened state, being afraid that the same fate would befall him. But years later, he had returned. Most likely, the dark lord hadn't killed him because at that point, the man was the only one he had, and he was needed. And now, here he was, on his greatest mission yet, to help the dark lord finally rid himself of Potter. But one must know their prey to catch them, and he had needed to catch up on young Potter; see how he'd grown and what he was like. He was certain that no one suspected him, and that no one would.

My lord, he thought, Harry will prove to be a difficulty adversary...

He thought back to a brief conversation he had recently had with one of Harry's enemies at the school. He had caught a boy Potter's age, name of Malfoy, headed to a class that he had missed most of, due to an injury he was having seen with the school's nurse. He had stopped the boy to speak with him for a moment; he had been stopping many of the children Harry's age to glean information from them about him; his personality, his weaknesses and strengths, his habits, his likes and dislikes. He thought back to the latter question that he had asked the platinum-haired boy and recalled the look of utter hatred that had passed over his features.

*******(Memory)*******

"Are you a reporter or something!?" Malfoy asked, still holding his cheek from an apparent wound that had recently been healed, "I can tell you one thing... the scarhead has a thing for Muggle mud-bloods... disgusting." He chuckled at his own cleverness and continued. "He'll probably be so busy thinking about Granger that the snitch'll punch him right in the eye before he knows it's in front of him... filthy little Muggle lover..."

"Granger?" the man asked Malfoy.

"Hermione Granger," Malfoy said through gritted teeth, taking one last rub at his cheek, "Scarhead's girlfriend. Just look for the three bloody Gryffindor musketeers... losers."

The man mentally nodded and filed the name away, smiling to himself. "Tell me more about them...him."

"Potter's not the only bloody Quidditch player!" Malfoy obviously felt insulted. "There's thirteen others playing too! Now Slytherin's worth discussing, like..."

"Thank you Draco," the man replied, "You've been most helpful."

At that he left Malfoy slack-jawed in fury and walked away. Potter was the only one he was interested in, and not for bloody Quidditch.

*******(End Memory)*******

The broom rider stopped his reverie long enough to realize that he was passing into Kavan. The only thing separating this forest from the Forbidden one was a long stretch of barbed wire. Curious that the teachers so long ago had decided to use Muggle fencing to separate the two.

Immediately the dark, frightening surroundings of the Forbidden Forest gave way to a darker, more sinister feeling. The forest itself was even less lit, partly due to the closer proximity of the trees, and because it had the almost physical aura of a dark past. Or was it just who was residing here now?

The trees were so dense at the trunks and thick overhead with branches that barely any moonlight shone through. Even the moss and fungus that grew there seemed thicker and darker.

A feeling of dread began to blanket the rider. The forest was so quiet and eerie now. At least in the Forbidden Forest you had the feeling that animals lived there and that the plants were alive and growing.

Kavan felt dead and deserted. The trees had long ago begun dying, and were now more or less just a mass of knarled and twisted limbs without leaves. It was as if anything that used to live there had abandoned it after some dark dealing. In fact, the forest had once thrived, back when it was still part of the Forbidden forest. But after the disappearance of young Stuart in '59, the whole place began to mourn. Something evil had taken hold. Even the plants were now dying; something about the imbalance of the environment now that all the animals and even the bugs had either left it, or died.

The servant shuddered. In the darkness ahead, he made out the medium-sized cabin that had been finished for his master some three months ago. There Voldemort had bidden his time with only his pet snake, Nagini for company, until his servant could find a way to get into Hogwarts, get information about Potter, and return to tell him.

The rider knew that Voldemort felt his approach. He always knew when his own approached.

The man panicked as he hopped from his broom. Was it too late to run? Why was he drawn to Voldemort, but at the same time repulsed? Could he still escape?

"Enter." The high-pitched throaty voice of Voldemort called from inside the cabin.

Too late... too late to run... The dark lord's voice had held a presence of command over him ever since the day he joined him so long ago. There was no escape now.

Shakily, he felt his hand turn the knob of the door as if he were outside his body, watching himself.

The first sight that greeted him was Nagini's long fat form, curled into a target shape, asleep by the hearth of an unusually hot fireplace. The fire, of course, was lit by dark magic and the flames glowed an iridescent blue.

At first, all the man could do was stare ahead. He willed himself to move forward, but his body wouldn't obey. He stared a hole into the back of his master's chair.

"Come and face me, idiot."

The voice was to the servant like long nails on a blackboard, but mesmerizing all the same. He walked slowly around the chair, and thanked heaven that Voldemort's hideous, chalk-white face was hidden under a black-hooded cloak.

Nagini raised his head and hissed sharply at the man, simultaneously lashing out with a powerful snap. He yelped and jumped back, realizing that he had tread on the snake's tail.

Voldemort hissed to the serpent and Nagini immediately relaxed. The servant looked nervously from Nagini to Voldemort.

"P...Potter is a parsel-mouth as well... m...my lord."

"I brought you here to tell me things I don't know, fool. Now tell me... What have you learned."

The servant swallowed nervously, and began. "I've learned of all of his classes... s..spoken to teachers and students about him... his personality, his weaknesses and strengths, his likes and dislikes... I've spoken to his friends and enemies, a...and to him personally."

"Potter has enemies at school..." it was more a statement than a question. "Interesting. What of the cloaking charm..."

"No one suspects, my lord. Not even Dumbledore... Even Potter has felt nothing...Of course, no one has recognized me either...it's been so long..."

"Excellent. You've done something right, for once, but remember, it won't work for much longer. You'll need to cast it again soon... Now about his enemies..."

The servant, prodded along by his master's pleasure at his work, continued.

"He has quite a few, actually. Although they all seem to stem from the same house... and that from the same boy..."

"Lucius Malfoy's son, no doubt," said Voldemort with a cruel chuckle.

"Ah... ah yes. Draco Malfoy," said the servant wringing his hands nervously, "H...How did you know, my lord?"

"It's obvious. I've trained Lucius well, who in turn, trains his son. He and Potter have been enemies since both started their schooling. Continue..."

The servant noticed that the dark lord had not moved once since his arrival and wondered if he was weakening again. Inwardly, he wondered how this could be used to his advantage. He continued.

"Um, uh, alas my lord...Potter is so well protected that I fear how we will get to him...I mean you, of course. Dumbledore keeps him watched day and night. He's never alone, or..."

"Yes, well I would inhabit you and get him myself, but I now have my own body, and the cloaking charm can't hide the enormity of my power. Potter would sense it in a second."

At the word "inhabit" the servant's eyes widened and he began trembling.

"Relax, idiot. I have no intention of shedding my body for yours. Now. Tell me more."

"He... he has a c..close friend...Ron Weasley, a red-headed boy... and his g..g..girlfriend, a girl named Granger. The three are always together. They..."

Voldemort slapped an angry skeletal hand down on the arm of the old chair sending dust catapulting into the air.

"I know about Weasley and Granger!" he screamed, "I sent you to find out new information, new..." But at that, Voldemort stopped himself and slowly stood to face his servant. If he had been able to see his master's face, the man would have seen a slow, cruel smile dawning on his ugly features.

"Girlfriend..." Voldemort muttered to the other. His servant stumbled backward, visibly terrified. He held the back of his hand to his face and blinked rapidly, waiting for the dark lord to strike.

"I tried to get more information!...I spoke to everyone I could think of!..I..I even spoke to Dumbledore about him, he...he had no idea I was fishing for information..."

"Silence!!"

But the terrified servant continued to ramble on. Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at the man's face.

"Ereptio Mutensia!" he screeched. Immediately the man was rendered completely speechless.

Voldemort ground his teeth in irritation. He had no use for pathetic, whimpering idiots. As soon as the man had served his purpose, he would dispose of him. He slowly approached the servant, wand still in hand.

"So, Potter and Granger are involved now..."

The mute servant, his eyes widening the closer Voldemort stepped toward him, nodded furiously.

Voldemort stopped moving and seemed in contemplation. "This changes things..." he muttered to himself. "In the past, when Potter's friends have been in danger, he's still been able to fight rationally, calmly, even fiercely... he's faced battles like that before. But I wonder how he'll react when deeper feelings are involved. He may become rash, make illogical decisions, even come unhinged... Hmm... Exigo Uttoralis."

Voldemort freed the servant of his curse almost as an afterthought. He fell to his knees and grabbed his neck, making a small sound in the back of his throat to make sure his voice still worked. He closed his eyes briefly in relief.

The dark lord turned slowly to face his servant once again.

"Tell me... will there be a time when you will have access to Granger..."

Slowly the servant stood to his feet, but remembered to stoop lower than his master. He spoke almost in a whisper. "You... you want me to take her... to lure Potter..."

Voldemort lifted his head briefly. "Very good. You may not be as dim-witted as you seem. Now...will there be a time..."

"There's a..an upcoming Quidditch match... it's a big one. Not only will the whole school be out on the grounds, but p..parents and reporters; all manner of other witches and wizards..." the servant slowly smiled. "It would be easy for someone to get lost in all of the confusion..."

The dark lord stared at the man for some time, sizing up his abilities. Under the scrutinizing stare, the servant's small confidence began to waver. He could hear Voldemort's even breathing. Then finally...

"Are you capable..."

"Yes master! Absolutely...Have I ever failed you? I will bring the girl to you and make sure that Potter finds out she's gone, and where. He'll come master. I know it."

"I want it made clear that he is to come alone," said Voldemort, walking back to his chair and sitting once again, "and that if Dumbledore is told and I find out...Granger's dead."

"Yes my lord, absolutely," the servant nodded superfluously.

Voldemort paused again, his cold eyes sizing up the other. "Are the bones in place..."

"Yes my lord...I saw to it this afternoon," stated the servant with a shudder.

"And you placed the identity charm on them?"

"Of course...They will appear to be the bones of a young Kavan...no one will suspect...Not even Dumbledore..."

"Excellent," stated Voldemort, "That should be enough of a distraction to throw the old fool off... And in the mean time...you know your job..."

"Absolutely, my lord. All will go according to plan." The servant made a move to grab his broom from the corner to leave.

"Don't use a broom again, fool! Come and leave by floo powder. It won't do to have some idiot see you flying in and out of the forest! Do you have a safe fireplace to use?"

"Y...Yes, my lord," the servant walked over to the fireplace and snatched some green powder from the urn, being mindful to stay clear of Nagini. Voldemort squelched the fire and heat with a wave of his wand and the servant stepped into the fireplace.

"One more thing," said Voldemort in a low, dangerous voice before the servant could disappear, "I am not weak... and I don't care how long you've been with me...I know when a servant is thinking of betraying me."

The man's heart fell to his stomach. He should have known better than to have thoughts of betrayal around the dark lord. He began to shake uncontrollably.

Voldemort smiled mirthlessly. "Bring back Granger and I may let you live. Fail, and I will seek you out and destroy you...our history not withstanding."

The servant nodded once, swallowing, and quickly threw the green powder down, speaking out his destination.

When he had disappeared, Voldemort pointed his wand at the hearth and started the fire once more.

"Ah, Nagini... what fools men are."

Nagini lifted his flat head and hissed in agreement.

****************************************************

Chapter 5

Harry landed easily on his Firebolt and hopped off, shaking sweat and dirt from his head and grinning triumphantly.

As his teammates landed around him, he tossed the snitch from his left hand to his right and threw a line drive into George Weasley's stomach.

George caught it, but with a small 'oomph'. Satisfied, Harry turned to saunter away but was thrown to the ground by both Fred and George.

"Nice job hero," said George, rubbing Harry's cheek in the dirt. Harry tried to punch behind him, but to no avail.

"Hey, I caught it, didn't I?" He grunted, swinging wildly.

"Yeah, he meant it," said Fred, pulling a punch to Harry's ribs, "Play like that tomorrow and Slytherin's done for."

"They're done for anyway," said Harry roughly, scrambling up and throwing Fred and George in the dirt. They landed half on Michelle, who frowned and shoved them away.

Wood walked up between the twins carrying the Quidditch chest, which George tossed the snitch into as he passed.

"Truce, huh?" said Wood with a smirk.

"Yeah, truce," grinned George happily.

All seven of the team members were covered with sweat and grime; hair matted down on their heads, and were happier than ever.

Wood beamed confidently at them as they headed back toward the school.

"Well, there's half an hour until dinner, plenty of time for you blokes to shower..."

"Who needs to shower?" said Marcus grinning as he slapped Wood on the shoulder.

Michelle pinched her nose and sneered at him. "You do! And so do I for that matter..."

"That's the smell of success," Marcus grinned at her and ran ahead to the school.

"Well you'd better shower Harry," said Wood grinning, "...don't think Hermione would enjoy the 'smell of success."

Harry shook his hair out again, wiping it back from his forehead and ignored Wood. Wood grinned even wider.

Fred and George came up behind Harry and both whacked him on the back of the head. Harry punched at them testily, missing them both.

"Gonna see her tonight Harry?"

"Better smell good... she might not want to kiss ya."

Harry growled and sighed loudly. "Does everyone know!?"

Wood looked over to Harry with a worldly grin. "Yep... heard Colin's gonna publish it in the paper."

Harry knew Wood was only joking, but sighed wearily anyway. Nothing was ever a secret at Hogwarts.

***************************************

Once inside, Harry made his way towards Gryffindor to grab some clean clothes for the shower, and began to think back to his and Wood's conversation about Voldemort. If he was indeed on the move again, why weren't the papers reporting it? He and Ron both received the Daily Prophet, but pretty much all that had been reported lately was the loss of team members from the "Knights" and rumors of possible replacements.

Harry thought back to a large article he had read about the excellent players from Durmsdrang in Bulgaria and Beauxbatons in France, both schools for witchcraft and wizardry, and both holding excellent candidates for their own major league teams. Harry had a hard time believing that he might be chosen for the Knights when the world was full of players like Victor Krum. He shuddered at that name as he remembered Hermione's brief involvement with the Bulgarian. He remembered how he had felt every time he saw them together and wondered now at how stupid he was for not understanding his own feelings.

Harry cleared his head once again and thought again about his conversation with Wood. They had both determined that if there really were any danger, Harry would certainly know about it, via his scar. And if Dumbledore knew about any danger, he would have already lectured Harry and lectured the teachers to keep an eye out.

But the Headmaster had seemed pretty serene lately, and hadn't had much weighing heavily on his mind, it seemed. Unless he was just too distracted with the goings on at the school and of course getting everything ready for the huge tournament and the three recruiters to notice much else.

Harry had a hard time believing this, and settled himself to believing that it was all a rumor.

Harry reached the common room and spoke to the fat lady. She complied and he stepped inside.

He saw Ron and Hermione look up from a game of wizard chess they were playing to wince at his appearance.

"You are going to shower, right?" said Ron sneering.

"Just have," replied Harry sarcastically.

"Tough practice?" Hermione smiled at him, "You look really gross..."

"Don't you want to hug me?" said Harry walking towards her with wide arms, "I just came back to get you so we could go to dinner together..."

Ron laughed as Hermione shot up from the couch and moved to the back of it.

"Dinner isn't for another thirty minutes and don't come near me until you're clean!"

Harry raced around the couch as Hermione raced the other way. "I thought you liked me!" he said feigning left and right.

"Go take a shower, you're nasty!"

"You told me I was sweet!" As he began to move again, Ron stuck out his leg and Harry stumbled over it, nearly falling.

Harry glared at Ron tersely. "Well that was uncalled for."

"You stink... Go wash." Ron turned his gaze back to the game as it was his move.

Harry grinned. "I'm going. I was just having a bit of fun,"

Hermione walked tentatively back around the couch and plopped back down beside Ron, giving Harry a wary glance. "Not funny."

Harry smirked at her and glanced at his watch... five thirty.

"Oh well, I'd better hurry... I'll meet you guys in the Hall." He headed towards the steps taking two at a time. "Oh, Hermione, use your knights more."

"No help!" yelled Ron over his shoulder at him. He turned back to Hermione and moved a piece. "Not that it'll make much difference... check."

Hermione sighed.

After Hermione lost, she and Ron began to head towards the Great Hall. The thought of the time that she and Harry would be spending after dinner made her shiver anxiously, a small smile lighting on her face. Ron glanced sideways at her and smirked knowingly.

"What're you grinnin' about then?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she stared at the floor, blushing.

"Nothing...Really," she managed to stammer.

Ron nodded falsely. "Right."

Upon reaching the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione were surprised at how busy and crowded it seemed. Hogwarts was already home to about three hundred students, ten professors, house and ground keepers and twenty some odd ghosts, so it was bursting at the seems tonight with the added guests.

Several clusters of reporters were readying equipment and up at the front of the hall where the professors sat, Cornbluth, Versval, and Starven were conversing quite contentedly with Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonnagol and Cornelius Fudge, the head of the Ministry of Magic.

Of course the students brought the hall bursting to its seems already, and with the added bodies and noise, it seemed like barely controlled madness.

"Wow," commented Ron as he and Hermione headed towards their usual spots at the middle of the large Gryffindor table, "They must be really serious about the match tomorrow. Look at all the press!"

"I guess so," Hermione replied, "The 'Knights" lost two or three really good players this year so they're really looking at Hogwarts for replacements. I think Harry has a really good chance, don't you?"

"Better than Malfoy," Ron sneered as they passed Slytherin's table. Malfoy returned the look generously. "I'm not sure that's what Harry wants to do with his life though, are you?"

Hermione sighed as they reached their table and plopped down beside Ron. "I dunno... He's always too worried about Voldemort to plan too far ahead... Sometimes I think he feels like ultimately he's alone. I think he thinks it's up to him to finally finish him off."

"Well it is, isn't it..." stated Ron, picking up a large chicken leg and chewing thoughtfully.

Hermione stared slack-jawed at Ron, with wide almost betrayed eyes.

"Ron Weasley! We've both always been there to help Harry! I thought you said you'd never abandon him, especially when it comes to Voldemort!... We're talking about his life!" Hermione was almost in tears.

Ron dropped the chicken and turned to her. "'Mione, calm down will you? Of course I'll always be there for Harry, right down to the end. But you know as well as I do that the ultimate end will be between Voldemort and Harry. Harry's the only one who will really ever be able to kill him. Don't you see that?"

Hermione swallowed harshly. "Because of the scar..." she replied quietly.

Ron studied her silently for a moment. "Yeah... because of the scar. Harry's mum, and Voldemort for that matter, gave Harry something that night." Ron paused. "'Mione no one else has it."

Hermione rested her head on her hands and rubbed her forehead. She guessed that she had always known that, but she had just as frequently shoved it from her thoughts. She couldn't bear to think of Harry facing Voldemort alone. But in the end, that was how it was going to be. It terrified her to think of losing him after six years, and with the rumor that she and Ron had heard today that Voldemort was on the move again, Hermione wasn't sure how many peaceful times they still had left.

Harry chose that moment in her reverie to plop down opposite Ron and she with a carefree grin.

"Wow, it's crowded tonight, huh?" he said reaching for chicken and potatoes. He had a bite halfway to his mouth before he caught Hermione and Ron's expressions and lowered his fork.

"What is it..."

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears as Ron continued to eat silently. Quietly she tried to blink them away and face Harry with a brave smile.

"It's nothing. Just something I have to force myself to deal with."

"Well what is it?" said Harry, drawing his brows together with concern, "Maybe I can help you."

Hermione closed her eyes and smiled tightly. At that moment she felt decades older than her sixteen years. "Actually Harry, you're the one person that can't help me with this."

She took in the clean wet hair laying in mats across his forehead and his smooth boyish face. His green eyes sought hers for an answer, but she didn't have on to give. The thought of one day losing him was almost more than she could bear. Not trusting herself to say anymore, she kept silent and started eating.

"Caught Wood tonight before you got back to the common room," Ron spoke up, avoiding Harry's eyes, "I wanted to ask him about Gryffindor's chances."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry brightly, "What'd he say?"

"Well, we didn't get around to talking about it," answered Ron quietly, "...He told me about the rumor... about Voldemort."

Hermione visibly shuddered.

Harry looked at the two of them and sighed. "Is that what this is about?"

Hermione looked at him with something that resembled fear and

Harry shook his head. "That's all it is you know... a rumor. Even Dumbledore doesn't seem to sense a threat."

"He's not always right, Harry," said Hermione.

"He's rarely wrong either," said Harry confidently, "And you're forgetting; as long as I'm close to Dumbledore, I'm safe. And I have no reason to go off school grounds. So, the end... ok?"

Ron and Hermione looked at him doubtfully.

"C'mon, lets cheer up," Harry jovially began again, "Let's just concentrate on the match tomorrow. Look how excited everyone is!"

The pitch in the hall had just about reached a barely controlled roar. The reporters, now with cameras and floating microphones in place, were filming short beginnings for their shoots; panning the hall and focusing a lot on Dumbledore and the three recruiters.

Cornelius Fudge, the head of the Ministry of Magic, was now briefing the recruiters on the proper way for them to choose their candidates, after the upcoming game.

Dumbledore stood, his head knocking lightly against one of the floating candles. He brushed it away absently and called for attention.

"Everyone quiet please," he said, patting the air, "Quiet now."

A sea of faces, young and older all turned their attention to the white, long-haired older man up front. It was clear that the respect he was given was mutual by all.

"It is time now that we understand the rules of tomorrow’s match; what time it starts and how the choosing will be done afterward. Please all give your attention to Mr. Cornelius Fudge, the head of the Ministry of Magic." Dumbledore re-seated himself and polite applause followed.

Fudge, a shorter wizard of around fifty, with a bulbous, veinish nose, balding head and protruding stomach stood importantly, trying his best to appear tall and formidable, although his tone was jovial. "The match tomorrow will be held at three o'clock, at which time we will introduce to all, and to our guests, our distinguished recruiters from the 'Knights', Mr. Versval, Mr. Starven and Mr. Cornbluth." Fudge gestured generously at the three wizards seated to his right. They nodded to the crowd, who began to cheer. The choosing of the candidates was the second most exciting thing about the match, besides the game itself.

Fudge patted the air gently. "Now save that for tomorrow!" he smiled, "If you want a good seat, you may want to arrive at the field an hour early, reserving the seats up front and middle for Professor Dumbledore, our other esteemed Hogwarts teachers...and of course, myself." Fudge's head raised ever so slightly in acknowledgement of his own importance.

Severus Snape, to Fudge's left, sneered and rolled his eyes. He hated pompousness, and particularly disliked Fudge.

"Now let's have a nice clean game tomorrow, all you Quidditch players! Play your best and your hardest, and you may find yourselves singled out as candidates for the 'Knights'!" Fudge grinned proudly as cheering erupted once again.

Snape noticed Fudge edging his way into the camera's view and sneered again, most noticeably this time. Dumbledore noticed, and patted his arm with an understanding smile. Snape grunted and turned away.

Across from Ron and Hermione, Harry had a surprisingly similar look cross his face as he twirled his finger in the air.

"Whoopee," he stated flatly, turning back to his dinner.

Ron's jaw dropped in astonishment. "Harry are you daft!? You're not excited about the game tomorrow?"

"It's just another game, Ron," and then more quietly, "Besides, I'm much more excited about tonight." His steady gaze flickered to Hermione for a brief moment and she felt her cheeks begin to burn. She widened her eyes at him and flicked a gaze at Ron and back at him.

Harry shook his head and gave her a 'he didn't notice face. Sure enough, Ron was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice the small moment of indiscretion.

"Harry, you make me crazy," he said, digging into his mashed potatoes much harder than needed. "I would give my right arm to be in your position. You act like it's nothing important!"

"You'll be a beater on the team next year, right behind Fred and George, Ron. The only reason you're not on this year is because we were already full; everyone knows it."

"Yeah, but you're the one getting looked at for the 'Knights'!"

"And next year it'll be you," said Hermione reasonably, patting his arm. "Just because you're not on the team now doesn't mean you won't be. You watch. Next year we three will be sitting here congratulating you."

"Yeah, next year," said Ron sullenly, "I guess I envy you Harry... You seem to always get a go at everything."

At that moment, Dumbledore stood again, and once again commanded the attention of the crowd. The headmaster and the professors looked decidedly more tense than a few minutes ago, all looking stern and tight-lipped. Even the recruiters looked particularly uncomfortable.

"Attention again please," began Dumbledore in his trademark scratchy voice. "It is difficult at this happy, exciting time to bring you all bad news, but regrettably, it must be done..." he breathed in heavily, and continued. "I'm sure it has come to all of your attentions by now that a certain rumor has been circulating about the resurgence of he-who-must-not-be-named... I must warn you now that reports have been confirmed that there has been some definite movement in the dark world..."

A low, shocked mumbling began that started to rise in pitch as adults and students all across the hall began talking nervously to each other.

"Please wait a moment, please," began Dumbledore again, "Now this was not meant to incite panic. It is to serve as a warning. While I cannot disclose now the nature of the reports, the other professors and I, with the strong suggestion of Professor McGonnagol," Dumbledore nodded toward Minerva, who shifted slightly in her seat, uncomfortable with the attention, "will be up late tonight making sure that the grounds are safe and secure. Everyone that will be coming in to watch the game will be searched, and if found to be suspicious, will be questioned.

Now, I must stress again, mainly for our guests as this is a known rule at Hogwarts; the Forbidden Forest is strictly prohibited. All of Hogwarts will be safe, but only as far as the grounds stretch, and they end there. So please help each other, and your visiting family members and friends to remember to stay within the parameters of the school. Thank you." A decidedly more heavy-hearted Dumbledore once again took his seat.

Slowly the rumble of voices began to take over the Great Hall once more.

Ron turned back to look at Harry, who had suddenly lost his appetite. Hermione looked almost sick.

Harry's jaw clenched and unclenched reflexively and he glanced up at Ron with a false smile. "Still want to be me?... I'll trade."

"Harry..." Hermione breathed, clenching his hand tightly.

Ron just shook his head numbly and grabbed Harry's arm with reassurance.

**************************************

Dinner ended on a decidedly less carefree note. The reporters began to either portkey home, or find fireplaces to use floo powder. The teachers, recruiters, and Cornelius Fudge all followed Dumbledore towards his large office for a meeting, and the students headed for their common rooms, or wherever else they intended to go, since it was not yet curfew.

Harry and Hermione bid farewell to Ron, and Harry suggested to her that they go out for a walk. He took her hand and led her towards the large double doors that led outside.

Hermione balked at the doors.

"Harry, we only have an hour and a half until curfew... maybe we shouldn't..."

"Shouldn't what?" said Harry with a grin that aggravated the heck out of her.

"Go outside!" said Hermione in exasperation, "You heard Dumbledore..."

"And if we stay on Hogwarts grounds, we're safe," he replied, pulling her along. He opened on of the great doors and he and Hermione stepped out into the unusually warm night.

Once again, Hermione stopped. "Harry, Professor McGonnagol needs to secure the grounds, and who knows what might be waiting until she does..."

Harry sighed and gently clamped a hand over her mouth. "We're not going far... just for a walk by the lake, and I've got my wand, in case. Besides I've got something for you," he said, inches from her face. He grinned at her again in that aggravating way that made her heart do flips. She almost felt annoyed at herself for it, but found herself smiling in response. She sighed.

"Harry, how do you do that to me?"

"What?" He looked genuinely confused, and grinned lopsidedly again. She rolled her eyes, walking with him towards the lake.

"That!"

Harry stopped and grabbed her hands, pulling her to him. "Oh... well I guess it's just my charm." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and laughed at the expression on her face.

"Please," said Hermione, trying not to smile, "You're not as charming as you think." Secretly, she thought otherwise.

"Well, it worked for you," said Harry. He laughed, side-stepping a punch from a slack-jawed Hermione that came close to hitting it's mark.

"Harry, you stuck-up prat!"

"I'm just kidding..."

Hermione looked unconvinced and Harry laughed at her. "I'm joking! Really."

They reached the lake and Harry put his arms around her, drawing her to him. "Honestly, I feel really lucky. I can't imagine why you picked me."

Hermione gaped up at him. "More like you picked me! Harry you could've had your choice of anyone. I know several girls who have severe crushes on you." She laid her head on his chest and looked out at the diamond-crusted water beside them, glittering from the light of the moon.

"Doesn't matter," said Harry, resting his chin on the top of her head, "I got the one I wanted."

He sighed contentedly and pulled her even tighter to him. He never thought he'd have someone to care for him in this way. He'd always grown up believing that he wasn't worth it. Hermione, just by being with him, was showing him that he might be a person of worth after all. And not just because of who he was on the outside; the boy-who-lived; but on the inside. She knew everything about him, his personality, faults, certain weaknesses, and she accepted him anyway... far more than he had ever expected anyone too.

Abruptly, Harry realized he'd forgotten his surprise.

"Oh, um... walk with me this way..."

Hermione looked up at him with a curious smile and let herself be led around the next bend of the lake.

There, on a particularly flat, grassy area lay a blanket, with a bottle of what looked like butterbeer, two mugs, and a small wrapped box. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

"When did you do this!?"

"Well, it took me a while to get to dinner, didn't you notice?" said Harry smiling. The lighted look on Hermione's face made his heart sing. He led her over to the blanket, and they sat beside each other.

Harry poured each of them a mug of the sweet, creamy drink and they drank in silence, stealing glances at each other over the mugs.

For a while, all seemed well, but it became increasingly clear to Harry that Hermione had something on her mind, and had ever since dinner. He waited until she was ready to speak.

Hermione finally looked up at him with large eyes and seemed to be forming the right words to say.

Harry put his drink down and grabbed her hand. "You can tell me anything, you know."

Hermione bit the inside of her lip and nodded at him. Finally, she looked down, feeling almost ashamed of herself. "I'm scared."

Harry hadn't expected that. He found himself almost at a loss for words. "Of what?... Of me?" He searched her face.

"No! Of course not," said Hermione quickly. She sighed heavily and finally lifted her eyes to look at him. "I'm scared of the future... of what's going to happen with you and Voldemort."

Harry blinked a little and drew in a breath. "Hermione..."

But the words she had struggled against forming for so long were finally out, and she couldn't stop the rest. As she spoke, she tried to will away the lump that was forming in her throat, but was almost helpless to stop it, or the tears that began rolling down her cheeks.

"No Harry, I mean it. He's always after you... You know as well as I do that he's not gonna stop until one of you is dead!" She felt her breath hitching and tried to control it, to no avail. "I don't know what to do... I sound selfish even to myself, but I can't bear the thought of losing you. I don't know what I would do...Wh.. what would I do?" She asked the question of herself as if Harry wasn't there. There had been no answer before, and there wasn't one now. She pressed her lips together, ashamed at her own weakness and turned her face away from him.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Somehow, he knew this would come. He had always felt that he had no right to ask anyone to be involved with him; to face what he had to face every minute of his life. Whether it be a friend, or more than that, it would never be fair to them, or to him. This was the life that had chosen him.

He had struggled with his feelings for Hermione for so long that, when he found out that she felt the same, he almost couldn't help himself. And now, since they had been friends for so long before this, everything was moving at a very quick rate. He looked up at her face and knew what he had to do. He raked a hand through his hair. He knew his next words would be the hardest he'd ever said. His chin fell down to his chest in defeat for a moment, but then he raised his gaze to her, trying his hardest to breath normally.

"If this is too hard, I understand... You don't have to explain anything to me. We... we'll always be friends... Always."

At that, Hermione was shocked into soberness. She grabbed both of Harry's hands and pulled him closer to her.

"No Harry! I didn't mean that! How could you th...I couldn't go back now even if I wanted to...and I don't...ever." She was desperate for him to understand, and to know how she felt about him.

Harry looked up at her face, surprised. But his happiness was quickly overshadowed. He then looked at her a little sternly, with fear mixed into his gaze.

"Then can you face the fact that one day, I might not come back?" He swallowed, and heard his voice choke on his own words. "Because I have to... every day. And if you're with me, you will too."

Abruptly, he realized how different he must sound from a normal boy pushing seventeen; how much older and more world-weary he felt. Why he was chosen to carry such a heavy burden was beyond him, but mostly he hated now it affected those who chose to be near him. Ron, the teachers at Hogwarts, even his godfather, Sirius was constantly on the alert for him. But Hermione... she was altogether different. She was the first person that he had deeper feelings for; and the first in a long time that had deeper feelings for him. It scared him to think of what that might bring.

Hermione, instead of being nervous and having a change of heart after Harry's speech, visibly relaxed and gazed at him tenderly.

"Harry," she began softly, "I am scared, everyday... but what you don't realize is that even if we did go back to being just friends, nothing would change. I'd still feel the same way. I've cared about you since the first day I met you on the train... I'm not gonna leave you. I'm gonna be right by you through everything. So will Ron...but especially me. I guess I just wanted you to understand me. And you should know something else too, because I know you. You're worth every minute of it to me."

Harry was astonished. He had fully expected Hermione to tell him that it was too hard and leave.

He put his hands on either side of her face and shook his head in amazement, pulling her in for a soft kiss. It wasn't an ordinary kiss for either one. It was a kiss full of promise... for love and support, and for sticking by each other, no matter what. They had made an unspoken pact that night; whatever happened, Voldemort had two to face. For both, the promise stretched on even further than that... for the future... and it looked bright as the sun at that moment.

When they finally broke apart, somewhat breathless and beaming happily at each other, Harry reached behind him and handed Hermione the small box.

"Harry, it's a little soon, isn't it!?" Hermione feigned shock and then grinned.

Harry smirked at her and pinched her arm playfully. "Open it."

He watched a little nervously as she unwrapped the package as if the box itself was precious.

Inside was a small silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. Within the heart lay a red, almost incandescent stone, giving off an unusual glow.

"Harry," Hermione breathed, eyes wide, "I can't believe you..."

"In a good way?" said Harry with a crooked smile.

"Of course." Hermione beamed at him, and Harry took the necklace from her, motioning for her to turn around. She did, and lifted her hair so that he could clasp it on her.

When he finished, he grabbed her from behind and pulled her back close to him. He closed his eyes and caught the faint smell of her hair; strawberry shampoo; same since their first year.

Breathing contentedly, Hermione rested the back of her head against his shoulder, and Harry leaned back, resting his weight, and hers, on his elbows. The sky was cloudless, and full of stars. And the water reflected the moon as if it held a large lump of gold in its center. The night couldn't have been more perfect if Harry had planned it himself.

"So, you wanna know why the stone glows?" said Harry from above her.

"Why..." asked Hermione, twisting around to look at him.

Harry laid back on the blanket, resting his head on his hand. Hermione followed, laying her head on his other shoulder as his arm came up around her.

"It only glows when I'm thinking of you," he answered.

"What?...How?"

"It's just an enchantment," said Harry lazily, gazing back up at the sky, "I got it at Hogsmeade a while back. I've wanted to give it to you for a long time."

Something in the way Hermione's face lit up at that moment, and the soft expression on her face as she looked at him made Harry feel like he was finally home. It hit him how odd that seemed, but as Hermione laid back down with him on the blanket, and snuggled closely to him, he understood.

***************************************

Dumbledore entered his office, followed by an entourage of teachers, recruiters, and one very unhappy and quite shaken Cornelius Fudge. Everyone found a place either to sit or stand, and Dumbledore headed around his desk to sit in his favorite chair.

"Now, Dumbledore... What's this all about?" began Fudge nervously as he played with the buttons on his robe, "Why am I just now hearing of this?"

"We're all just now hearing of this, Fudge," said Professor Snape irritably.

"As the head of the Minister of Magic, I am privy to information sometimes long before anyone else," began Fudge again haughtily, "I don't understand why..."

"Please..." said Dumbledore quietly, "Cornelius, the rumor has been going on for some time now, but just tonight, via one of the reporters, it has been confirmed." By way of explanation, he continued. "Apparently they are kept in constant contact with their various stations, and her assistant received an owl just after I introduced you. She informed me then."

"But Albus," began McGonnagol, "how do they know that the rumor is true? What proof do they have?"

The headmaster sighed, rubbing his temples gently. His expression was grave. "With one of the worst signs we could have been given...the remains of Stuart Kavan."

The teachers and Fudge, who all understood this, seemed to gasp simultaneously and began to fire questions and comments all at once, oblivious to the very confused recruiters, who stood in the background, trying to take it all in.

"Remains...do you mean a body?"

"Has it been positively identified?"

"How old was the body? Did he die young as we thought?"

"Of course, it has to be Voldemort.. no one else would be so vile..."

"Where was it foun', Perfessor?" this was Hagrid, and Dumbledore thought the question to be a good place to start.

"One at a time please," said Dumbledore, "and Hagrid brings up an excellent question... The remains were found inside Knockturn alley near the entrance to one of the shops. One of the more questionable ones, I might add. Apparently the owner of the bones wanted it to appear to the shop keeper as if he were merely trying to rid himself of some unwanted item, but of course he knew there would be an inquiry and medi-wizard exam of who the bones belonged to...and as news leaked out of the dead person's name, well...there are few people who would understand the significance; those being Stuart's parents, who died a few years ago, and of course...Hogwarts."

Dumbledore took a few minutes to let this new information sink in.

"And the bones?" said McGonnagol, "Were they of a young man, or older?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "He was fifteen when he died, Minerva... the reports confirm it."

The teachers gasped anew and spoke to one another in hushed tones.

"He kept them..." said Professor Flitwick breathlessly, "As a trophy, until now...Until he needed them to send a message..."

"It would appear that way," said Dumbledore.

"Vile creature...vile...and the one he's after now..."

"Harry," mumbled Professor McGonnagol with a hand over her mouth. She dropped her hand rapidly. "Albus, he can't know of this... He doesn't need to know the details. It's enough for him to know that he's in danger..."

"No worries, Minerva," said Dumbledore, "He'll not know. We'll simply make sure that the security in and around Hogwarts is stepped up to it's highest. Argus," He addressed the caretaker, Filch, "I'll need you to keep specific watch on the corridors at night; no students wandering after seven o'clock. If any are caught, make sure they know that the consequences will be grave." Filch nodded and looked in his arms at Mrs. Norris, as if making sure she understood as well.

"Minerva...you, I and Professor Snape will go immediately after this meeting to begin charming the school grounds. Anyone not coming through the portkeys, or through any of the floo networks will not be able to enter. Professor Sprout, I would like you to make a list of new rules that you and I will set up to take around to all of the house prefects, and make sure they read them to all of the students."

Finally, one of the recruiters spoke up. "So the game will go on tomorrow, as planned..." said Starven.

"Yes, the game will go on..." replied Dumbledore, amid immediate protests from some of the teachers, "Wait, please," he held up a hand, "This killing took place some time ago. I think it is safe to assume that it was simply sent as a warning. Yes, Voldemort is sending us a message that he will be trying something, but I feel that it is a distraction...something to set us on the wrong track. And in the mean time, life must go on as normal. If we shut down Hogwarts and all of it's activities every time there is a threat, then Voldemort has already won. He will always be a threat, until the day he is ultimately destroyed. Until then, we will go on about our business as usual, for there is no other way to be. We will just be extremely careful. Again, no one will enter tomorrow without being questioned...if anyone seems even remotely suspicious, I may even authorize the use of veritaserum. Madame Pomfrey?"

Pomfrey nodded, understanding Dumbledore's question before he even asked it. "We have plenty in stock... and I will be more than happy to use it if necessary."

Dumbledore nodded. "I will ask that all teachers place yourselves around the portkeys and floo networks to meet our guests, and to check them out. You should have plenty of time before the game to do so, as they will be arriving some two hours before time. We have a list of who replied to our invitation; if anyone tries to enter that is not found on the list, they will be turned back. Now, the best thing we can do is not panic, especially for the students. Our precautions will have to be enough, until we are proven otherwise."

"Headmaster, we don't know the story about young Kavan..." spoke up Mr. Cornbluth, "Perhaps you could enlighten us."

Dumbledore nodded and told the story from beginning to end, including the part about the body never being found... of course until now.

The three recruiters looked graver and graver with each word until the story was finished.

"And why was the public kept in the dark?" asked Versval.

"They were told that a young boy went missing that year, and that it was thought to be the work of the new dark lord that had been asserting his power and drawing followers. The name of the boy and where the incident happened were to be known only to the Hogwarts teachers, and to Stuart's parents. There was no need for anyone else to know, save that the Forbidden Forest, from then on was not only discouraged to be explored, but prohibited," finished Dumbledore.

The teachers, all satisfied with answers, and given specific tasks to undertake, understood and agreed. The last one to comment was Snape.

"Headmaster... I hope, in all sincerity, that this does not end up another fiasco like with Professor Quirrell."

"I don't think so, Severus. All guests will be searched and questioned. I think that will be enough for now."

Regrettably, the headmaster wouldn't know how wrong he was until it was too late.

****************************************************

Chapter 6

Harry awoke early the next day. He had been dreaming all night about the match, the new instructions that Professor Sprout had left with them, about why she, and all of the other professors seemed so worried, and of course about Hermione. They had almost gotten caught last night. They were still out on the blanket when they saw Dumbledore, McGonnagol and Snape rounding the top of the hill that overlooked the lake. They had quickly gotten up, grabbed up the blanket, bottle, and mugs and hidden behind a tree until the three were out of sight, and then made their way stealthily back to the school.

Harry padded downstairs softly that morning to sit in front of the fire, still blazing warmly in the common room. As he sprawled out in one of the plush chairs, staring into the orange flames, his mind began to wander. He could see himself in the future... possibly playing major league Quidditch for a few years, with Ron on the same team (Harry smiled fondly), and later married, maybe becoming an Auror, or working underground for some defense league against dark magic. He thought of his future with Hermione and wondered where their relationship would lead them.

He smiled warmly as he remembered kissing and holding her last night, among other things not quite as mentionable.(I don't mean they went that far! ;0) ) It had been warm out, with a light breeze; the kind of night that almost drugged you to sleep. As Harry and Hermione cuddled on the blanket, neither remembered falling asleep until Hermione awoke with a start and glanced at her watch. It was already an hour past curfew, but instead of waking Harry at once, she had rested her head on her hand for a few more minutes and watched him sleep. Intermittently, the red heart lying loosely from her neck onto the blanket began to glow. In the dark, with the moon blanketing them, she had made it a point to memorize his face.

His wire-rimmed glasses had fallen onto the blanket beside her, and she tucked them into her robe for safe keeping. His long, dark lashes framed his cheeks, and his mouth was relaxed open. He looked so peaceful. She smiled to herself. She had seen him asleep before. He had fallen asleep one too many times on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. He always seemed to take up the entire area, his long form sprawled out carelessly, arms and legs lying wherever they would. Even now he took up most of the blanket.

Reluctantly, she had woken him up, and just in time too, for just a few moments later, the three professors had come into sight.

Harry remembered both of them making out on the couch in front of the same fire that he stared at now, until one o'clock this morning, when both of them were exhausted and finally headed off to their dorms.

He glanced at his watch. It was only seven now... he could've slept for at least another half an hour.

At that moment, a sharp agonizing burning sensation began in his forehead that seemed to explode all around him. As Harry fell from the chair, trying not to scream, he realized that it was his scar. Pain like a white hot poker from the fire seared his forehead. Harry winced and dug his fingers into his hairline, willing the pain to stop, but it kept coming in waves. He felt nauseated; his stomach flipped and churned for what seemed like forever, when in reality, it was only a few minutes. Finally, the pain began to ebb.

When he was able to open his eyes, Harry found that he was lying on the floor, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He willed his heart and breathing to slow.

At that moment, Ron, stumbling down the stairs and rubbing his eyes, scanned the common room sleepily.

"Harry... you down here? I didn't see you in your bed..." He glanced towards the fire where Harry usually sat and saw him on the floor, trying to sit up and clutching his forehead.

"Harry!" Ron flew around the couch and threw himself to his knees. He gaped at his friend as he helped him up. "You're white as a ghost! What happened? I woke up early and I didn't see you..."

Harry held up a hand to silence Ron for a moment as he tried to find his voice.

"What is it..." said Ron sternly, "Do I need to get Madame Pomfrey? Tell me..."

Harry turned a decidedly pekid face towards Ron. "My scars burning again..." He rested his head in his hands and tried to breathe evenly.

Immediately, Ron tensed, searching Harry's face. It had been a while since that had last happened; back when Harry had last had to face...

Ron stared at Harry steadily. "Voldemort," he said quietly.

Harry only had the strength to nod at the moment, closing his eyes as the last wave of nausea passed. Slowly he leaned back on the couch and turned his head to look at his friend.

"Look, don't tell Hermione," he managed quietly.

Ron drew his brows together. "Don't tell her!? Don't you think she has a right to know!? She..."

"...has enough on her mind already," finished Harry, closing his eyes again and opening them slowly. "She already knows what she needs to know... Voldemort's on the move. If we tell her about my scar it'll just upset her more. It means the same thing."

Ron set his jaw and gazed at Harry tersely. "Harry, it means he may have someone already on school grounds... You know your scar only hurts when Voldemort or one of his servants are near!"

"Or when I dream about him, or when he's plotting somewhere and thinking really hard about me... who knows!? I know what it means Ron, which is why I want you to keep an eye on her at the game, just in case. Stick by her... don't let her be alone," said Harry.

"But don't tell her why..." said Ron angrily.

Harry sighed. "I understand why you're mad. I don't like keeping things from her either, but we talked last night Ron.. about Voldemort and I. She was in tears... worried sick. She doesn't need anymore."

Harry paused and sat staring into the fire, thinking. He felt Ron's steady gaze on him, trying to think the situation through as well.

"So how will we find out what's going on..."

"I don't know," said Harry steadily, "There's no way to find out until something happens, is there? We'll just be on our guard. I don't like this either, but whatever's going to happen is going to happen."

**************************************************

The rest of the morning went by achingly slow. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together in their classes; Harry doing his best to avoid the glances and whispers of pity from mostly well-meaning classmates.

Internally, Harry tried various things to calm himself. He needed to keep his mind on the Quidditch match that afternoon and didn't need the added distraction of talk of Voldemort and constant thoughts of Hermione, although the latter were rather pleasant ones.

In the hallway between every class, he was greeted by Colin Creevey, shadowed by his even smaller brother, Dennis, as he snapped roll upon roll of film and wished Harry good luck in numerous different ways. Each time became more annoying until finally Hermione took Colin aside and explained to him that while Harry really did thank him for the well-wishing, it was quite enough. Colin, resilient as he was, didn't take the reproach badly, but decided that it might be worth his time to take pictures of the other Quidditch players as well. He bounced off happily, his younger brother skipping to keep up.

"Novel idea," said Ron sarcastically as Hermione told he and Harry about her conversation.

In Transfiguration class, Harry not only had to put up with pompous glares from Malfoy, but also caught Professor McGonnagol staring at him with an expression of mixed pity and worry right as he was trying to change a bird into a glass bowl. Her expression and the expressions and quick glances from his classmates made Harry turn his bird into more of a deep dished feather pizza. He closed his eyes, sighing through clenched teeth.

Malfoy, of course thought Harry's discomfort with the attention to be extremely amusing, and leaning towards Harry's desk, he whispered to him in his trademark hateful way.

"Way to go Potter... Three guesses as to how your game will be today. Voldemort couldn't have moved at a better time."

Harry turned a fiery glare his way and spoke to him warningly. "I'd worry about my own game if I were you. Slytherin could use all the help they can get."

"Not today; not with you as seeker." Then Malfoy took the opportunity to twist the knife. "And by the way, if Voldemort does show, it's a sure bet he'll go for all the mudbloods. He always did want to purge the school. I just hope Granger gets it first."

Harry felt as if he'd been punched in the chest. Before Malfoy even had a chance to react, Harry flew out of his desk so hard that it crashed to the floor, and ripping Draco from his, punched him hard across the face. It came so suddenly that Malfoy found himself sprawled on the floor. As he gaped up at Harry in shock, he found him straddling over him, his wand inches from his face.

"Harry Potter!" McGonnagol yelled, too shocked to move.

The look of white-hot fury burning on Potter's face was enough to root Malfoy to the spot. Harry shook with rage. When he spoke his tone was flat and even.

"If you ever say anything like that again... If I ever even hear of it... they can pick up what's left of you in a glass jar. Do you hear me..."

Malfoy, almost hyperventilating, realized at that moment that he may have gone a tad too far.

The class, including Hermione and Ron, stared at Harry in shocked silence. They had never seen him react so violently before.

"Nod." Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

Slowly Malfoy nodded that he had heard and understood, but with a look of pure hatred. Harry had sealed their two fates in that one instant for him, and if he wasn't sure before, he was now. Potter and he would always be enemies.

Harry willed his breathing to slow and swallowed, trying to calm himself. He turned and looked from Hermione, to Ron, to McGonnagol. Quickly he picked up his books and walked out of class.

Malfoy picked himself up from the floor amidst a room full of gaping students and scooting his desk back to its proper position, he sat down slowly.

McGonnagol realized that she had a hand clamped over her mouth and dropped it quickly, assuming control of the class once again, though visibly shaken.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you need to go to Madame Pom..."

"I'm fine," Malfoy said flatly. He glanced Weasley's way and noticed he was holding up two fingers.

Twice this week Ron mouthed silently. With a sarcastically blank face, he gave him a thumbs up.

Draco clenched his jaw, and it split his head with pain. He chose to look straight ahead.

McGonnagol struggled to speak. "Ah...I...want this class to continue with your assignments. Miss Patil, I'll leave you in charge; you did an excellent job... beautiful bowl... I need to step out of class but I will be back momentarily. Until then I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Miss Patil, please."

The professor gestured Parvarti to the front of the class and walked out quickly in search of Harry.

She found him with some difficulty sitting on the steps of the stairway to the third floor with his head lowered. He didn't acknowledge her as she sat quietly beside him.

They sat like that for some time, and as it was nearly a half and hour until classes for that period were done, the silence made it all that much more uncomfortable. Finally the professor spoke.

"You scared him."

Harry looked up as if shaking himself from a dream. "What?"

"You scared him," repeated McGonnagol patiently. "If that's what you were trying to do Potter, it worked."

Harry looked guiltily from the professor to the floor and placed his head in his hands.

"I'm so sorry professor... I just... Malfoy said something really awful... I just lost it, I..."

"I'm sure whatever he said was awful Potter, and I don't need to know about it; that's your business... But as for the classroom, that's my business." She paused. "I'm taking twenty points from Gryffindor.. for your serious lack of judgement."

Harry sat quietly and finally nodded.

McGonnagol's expression softened as she noted the worn look on his young face. She spoke kindly. "It's a big burden on such a young person, isn't it?... To be the one person that Voldemort seeks to destroy... and the one person that can ultimately destroy him."

Harry turned a distraught but surprised face to his professor. How was she able to sum up his whole life in one sentence?

Without replying, he turned his gaze from her only to find himself staring at row upon row of enchanted paintings in the hallways, all listening to the conversation. He heard whisperings of Harry Potter... boy-who-lived... isn't it sad...no parents...constantly set upon by something evil...

He rolled his eyes wearily, and head in hand, rested his elbow on his knee.

McGonnagol noticed the paintings and shushed them with a hard look. Reluctantly, they stopped their gossip and resumed their original forms.

The professor put an arm about Harry's sturdy shoulders and gave him a motherly squeeze. Harry glanced sideways at her.

"One thing I want you to always remember, Potter," she began in a soft tone, "You are not alone."

Harry closed his eyes and shook his head slowly.

"No Potter, listen... You are not alone. No matter where this battle takes you, no matter what you have to face... and even when it's ultimately down to just you and he... you have friends; true friends who are willing to fight and even die along side of you. And every teacher in this school will be right behind them... If you let them."

At a hard look from Harry, McGonnagol gave him a knowing smile. "Yes every teacher. Even Professor Snape."

As she sat with him, she noticed tears begin running slowly down his cheeks.

"Potter?"

Harry looked up at her without embarrassment. "Professor, I don't want anyone hurt because of me."

McGonnagol nodded, but looked Harry straight in the eyes. "I understand," she said softly, "But don't you push anyone away... don't you dare. Do you hear me? Their lives are their own, and they choose to risk them because they care for you... and because the fight against Voldemort involves all of us. You can't control that; you can't even try... Let them be with you Harry."

He paused, thinking over her words carefully. Finally he nodded, brushing away his tears absently.

McGonnagol gave him a final pat and stood, making her way back to her classroom, but Harry stayed on the steps for the rest of the period, lost in thought.

*************************************

Hermione and Ron met Harry after class and after rushing to his side, asked Harry what in the world Malfoy had done.

Harry glanced sideways over Hermione's head to Ron, giving him a knowing expression.

Ron caught on quickly, and just as quickly as Harry had, his expression turned black with anger.

"I'm sick of that bloody...I think I'll go finish the job."

"Ron..." began Harry. He needn't have worried. Just as Ron began to stomp off, wand in hand, Hermione caught his arm. After being pulled a few steps, she was finally able to stop him and pull him back over to Harry's side. Then, taking both of their arms, she pinched them rather painfully.

"Ow!...'Mione, what the..." began Ron.

"What was that for!?" said Harry, rubbing his bicep and wincing.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do you two honestly think I don't know what you're on about? The quick glances and all... Don't try to shield me for my benefit, because I know he said something horrible about me."

"How did you..." began Ron.

"Don't be so thick!" said Hermione reproachfully. "I've known you two for as long as you've known each other. You think I don't understand your little silent exchanges by now!? Well for the love of all that's..."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest and began leading them both along towards Professor Binns' History of Magic class.

"And so we deserved the pinch, why?" said Ron as Harry pulled at one of her curls to stop her.

She turned to address them both. "Why do you let him get to you? He's been the same since first year... just a filthy prat; nothing but trouble. And now Professor Binns will be wondering why he's not in class, and Snape's gonna find out and all of Gryffindor will get it!... Malfoy's probably running back up to the infirmary right now..."

But as Hermione continues she couldn't help the smile that began to creep up on her face, or the laughter she was trying to squelch, coming out in bursts. She told them off until finally, she started snickering wildly.

"I knew it!" Harry pointed at her with a grin, "You loved seeing him sprawled on the floor as much as we did!"

Hermione tried to sober. "I did not! You... probably fractured his jaw, Harry... All I did was bruise him!"

But she couldn't hold it any longer and began to snicker even harder, much to Harry's amusement.

Ron, ignoring them, thrust out his jaw and rubbed his arm gently, checking it for wounds.

"You bruised me..." he began distractedly, rolling up the sleeve of his robe. "You... look there! You did! I can't belie... That's twice this week you bruised someone, 'Mione!... Look there! Right there on my arm...You...you did!"

Harry laughed and Hermione held up two fingers at Ron with a droll expression. Suddenly, they both started laughing.

Hermione linked arms with them both as they headed towards class, eliciting jealous stares from a few passing girls, and leaving Harry wondering about the two finger gesture.

"What was that about..."

Ron and Hermione snickered.

"What?" asked Harry.

*********************************************

The rest of their classes went by rather quickly, and just as quickly, two o'clock rolled around.

Potions finally let out; Snape, having fixed Harry, Ron and Hermione with suspicious glares all throughout class since Malfoy failed to show. He had been informed of the incident the day before, right before his class, between the three and the Slytherin boy.

As the students began rushing into the hallways and towards their houses to change clothes for the game, Harry was stopped by a sudden grip on his shoulder. He turned to see Snape glaring nastily at him, his greasy hair falling down in his face.

"I wonder Potter, if you know why Draco Malfoy did not show up for class..."

"I'm in Gryffindor," stated Harry, rather unaffectedly, "Why don't you ask Crabbe or Goyle..."

He turned to leave but Snape grabbed at his robe again, whipping him around.

"They seemed to think that you might have an idea."

Harry shrugged. "Nope! Don't have a clue... Maybe he's been out on the field, practicing... lord knows Slytherin needs it."

With a grin, he yanked himself free and took off towards the Gryffindor common room, leaving Snape with a decidedly angry sneer in his wake.

Harry, Ron and Hermione changed in their rooms quickly and met back in the common area. As the weather had suddenly taken a decidedly chilly turn, they were all dressed warmly, save Harry, who would be sweating on the Quidditch field anyway.

"What'd Snape want..." asked Ron darkly, pulling his red and gold scarf over his shoulders.

"Just to harass me," said Harry, reaching down to pick up his broom. "He wondered where Malfoy was."

Ron smirked. "You should've told him he'd know where he was if he was stuck up his..."

"Ron!" yelled a shocked Hermione.

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan passed Ron with a snicker as they were headed out towards the field.

"Nice one Ron," said Seamus, clapping him on the back.

Harry gave Ron a crooked grin. "Well, I'm off... got forty-five minutes before the game. I'm sure Wood wants to make sure we have our strategy down for the ninety-fifth time..."

Hermione stood on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Good luck then... We'll see you after the game."

She began to climb out of the portrait door and then came back.

"If we win, everyone will be going to Hogsmeade to celebrate after the game," said Hermione with a bright smile to Harry. "Do you think you'll be up for it?"

"Always!" said Harry grinning.

Ron cleared his throat, shaking his head. "Um... sorry to burst your bubble Hermione, but you're forgetting... We have to go straight to dinner and back to our common rooms after. Remember the new rules?"

"Ugh! I forgot..." said Hermione, "And I was really looking forward to it too."

"Actually, I'm kind of relieved," said Ron, grinning at the confusion on Harry and Hermione's faces. "I think Fred and George wanted to drag me to see a building that's been for sale for a while. Apparently they thing it's perfect for 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' next year." He put on a pained expression that made his friends laugh.

After a few minutes, Ron decided (with exaggerated air quotation marks) to let Harry and Hermione have a moment of "alone time". He batted his eyes at them suggestively, and Hermione swatted at him with part of her scarf.

He stepped out of the portrait door and waited outside for her.

The last two Gryffindors to walk out were Lavender and Parvarti, and they stopped and engaged Harry in a short, very flirtatious conversation before continuing on.

"Good luck, Harry," said Parvarti, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. "I'll be rooting for you." She smiled suggestively at him and touched him on the arm while shooting poisonous glances Hermione's way.

Next to the hearth, Hermione rolled her eyes.

Lavender pretended to laugh at Parvarti's suggestion that Harry needed luck.

She grabbed onto his other arm and leaned in to him as if by accident.

"Parvarti, everyone knows Harry doesn't need luck!" she said, tossing her hair and batting her eyes. She tried to send him a thousand watt smile. "I know you'll be great. Everyone knows!"

Harry glanced down at them a bit distractedly and gently tried to disentangle himself.

"Yeah, ok. Well thanks."

Hermione glanced down at her necklace and noticed that it was glowing. She looked up to Harry and he gave her a small smile and a wink. Once again her heart flip-flopped into her stomach.

Lavender and Parvarti wiggled out of the room smugly as if they'd accomplished something. Hermione needn't have worried. They flirted just as shamelessly with Ron when they reached the hallway.

Harry walked over to Hermione. "Sorry about that..."

Hermione secretly thought that if she were a jealous witch, she would have swiftly strode over there and clawed both of the girls eyes out, but fortunately she wasn't.

"Oh, I don't care... Anyway, it reminds me of what I've got." Although her cheeks were a little flushed, she smiled brilliantly up at him.

The breath hitched in Harry's throat and he suddenly grabbed her and kissed her more deeply than he ever had. Hermione returned the kiss with fervor. When they finally broke apart, completely breathless, Harry thought that the explosion he had just felt must surely be written all over his face for her to see. Hermione blushed. She had felt it too.

He grinned sheepishly and ran his fingers through his hair. "Wow... Well, I'd better go then..."

He realized that he was about to back into a chair, and righted himself quickly.

Hermione laughed out loud as he walked towards the portrait door and mouthed It's your fault at her with a grin. He finally left, letting the portrait shut behind him.

Ron was waiting in the hall, and smirked knowingly when he saw Harry.

"Good luck."

"Ron," said Harry, letting the smile slide off of his face, "Please keep an eye on her.. Remember what we talked about."

"I haven't forgotten Harry," said Ron soberly, "I don't want anything to happen either... but I'm not really worried. The whole school grounds have been covered with a safety charm. No one dark'll be able to get in... McGonnagol saw to it."

"All the same," said Harry, backing down the hallway, "Just... watch out for her. For yourself too."

Ron sighed in a you-know-you-don't-have-to-tell-me-of-all-people way. Harry smiled at him.

"See you after." He began to jog down the hallway.

"Harry!" Ron called out.

Harry turned to squint at him through a bright beam of sunlight that shined through the window beside him.

"Wipe the bloody lip gloss off your face; you look like an idiot..."

Harry swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at it briefly, giving Ron a triumphant wiggle of the eyebrows before he took off down the hallway again and disappeared out of sight.

Hermione climbed out of the portrait door just in time for Ron's last comments and punched him lightly in the shoulder.

"I heard that."

**************************************

Chapter 7

Outside, Harry dodged throngs of people that were headed towards the field although most had arrived some time ago, due to needing to be checked in and wanting to find good seats. He had almost made it to Gryffindor's game tower when Kard Starven, the annoyingly outgoing recruiter, spotted him around some of the reporters he had been talking to and waved at him with a large gap-toothed grin.

Harry thrust out his jaw in aggravation, trying to find a way to slip past him in the crowd, but it was too late.

"Harry my boy!" Starven yelled from a short distance away.

Harry stopped mid-stride and closed his eyes briefly before turning around to give the recruiter a false smile.

Starven approached him leaving three reporters with confused looks on their faces. He hadn't seemed to answer even one of their questions.

Starven slapped Harry on the back amiably and grinned again. "Feeling confident today, Potter?"

"Yeah, I feel great," Harry smiled patiently at him. "I'd better get up there though, I'm being hailed."

Starven glanced up to where Harry looked to see a tall red-haired boy in the tower gesturing with his thumb for Harry to get up there. He pointed to a small plank in his hand and gave Harry the slit-throat gesture.

"Guess your coach is a little antsy," Starven turned back to Harry, "I assume the plank stands for Oliver Wood."

Harry half-smiled at him. "Yeah... he's gonna kill me if I don't get up there."

"Well, I sure envy you," Starven threw a buddy-like arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry gazed at him blankly. He wasn't getting the hint.

Starven continued obliviously. "When I was in Hogwarts, I was one of the best players on the team. I'll never forget the announcer roaring out my name. 'Kardinal Starven... Chaser!"

"Yeah, well..."

"I spent the best years of my life in Slytherin," said Starven wistfully, pulling Harry along with him. But just as quickly he dropped his arm from the boy's shoulders and turned to face him, with a decidedly more business-like tone.

"Well, good luck Potter. We're anxious to see what kind of seeker you are."

Harry took this as his chance for escape and took a step back towards the tower. "Thank you Mr. Starven... We'll see you after the game." He then turned on his heels and hopped on his broom, gliding up to the tower where his fellow teammates anxiously reached out to pull him in.

Starven watched him for a moment more before joining his fellow wizards and smiled humorlessly. "Maybe."

**********************************************

Ron and Hermione elbowed their way past the crowd and finally found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with Hagrid on one side and Ginny on the other waving down at them from a particularly high tier.

Hermione smiled at the familiar flaming red hair as she and Ron sat beside his parents.

Mrs. Weasley, a short, plump witch, reached over and gave Hermione a motherly hug and kiss on the cheek with a smile.

"So sorry your parents couldn't be here today dear."

"Oh, that's all right," Hermione smiled, "They've needed a vacation for a while. It just so happens that it fell during the match."

"Well all the same it's a shame," she smiled. Mrs. Weasley then turned her attention to her son and gave him a tight hug.

Ron wheezed out a greeting. "Nice to see you mum... dad."

"You too son," said Arthur Weasley, a slight but tall wizard with thinning hair, smiling in a relaxed way. "It sure is great to get away from the Ministry for a while... Fudge has had us working our fingers to the bone about this warning from V... (ahem) Uh...well, about some important issues that have come up."

The indiscretion covered, Arthur blushed a little at his slip of the tongue... but those sitting there had caught the gist of it.

Immediately, Hermione blanched. Ron noticed and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Remember," he whispered, "the grounds are safe... Harry's safe."

Hermione nodded, staring ahead. Hagrid patted her small hand with his gigantic one and gave her a soothing wink and a grin.

"Don' you worry none, Hermione. Harry'll be jus' fine, you'll see... This'll be one of the mos' excitin' games yet!"

Hermione let out the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding and tried to relax. Hagrid always made her feel better. She began to get excited for Harry's prospects as she looked down towards the front row where the three recruiters sat; sharp eyes surveying the field and surrounding areas.

Hermione watched for a glimpse of Harry in between catching snatches of conversation between the Weasleys.

Molly Weasley once again reprimanded Ron for his schoolwork.

"...and don't let me hear you say that everyone in Potions has a C, because let me tell you, I know better!"

"Molly... have off him a little," began Arthur, "the O.W.L.s are only a couple of weeks away, maybe he'll pull up his grades then..."

Mrs. Weasley turned and gave her husband such a look that he immediately began to find the field he had seen several times before completely interesting anew.

"Well I certainly hope your Father's right, Ronald... lord knows the Ministry won't have you with poor grades, and your father's saving a starting position just for you after graduation, should you want it!... Oh, and Ginny," said Molly in the same breath, her manner completely changing as she leaned up to address her daughter. "I'm so proud of you... an A in Herbology! (sigh) I'm sure we'll have a head girl in the family come your sixth or seventh year."

"Thanks mum," Ginny beamed.

"Now why can't you apply yourself!?" Molly turned a scowl on Ron so quickly that startled him, "You're such a smart boy!"

"Mum, Snape HATES the Gryffindors... He's hardly fair!"

"I think he rather hates you, Hermione and Harry," said Ginny quietly, but with a wicked grin. Ron shot her a deadly scowl.

"What was that?" asked Molly.

"N..Nothing mum," replied Ron quickly, yanking his mother's attention back to him, "Anyway... I have a B in Herbology!"

"Now don't change the subject!"

"Mum!" Ron whined.

Hermione grinned comfortably.

A bell clanged loudly in the field and the attention of the throng was quickly diverted to the announcers box, which also happened to include all of Hogwarts teachers. They had finished checking everyone in for the game, and nothing amiss had occurred; everyone having been invited that showed up, and no one carrying a wand, as they had all been confiscated at the portkeys and the floo networks until after the game. The teachers seemed satisfied, at least as much as they could be.

The game announcer pointed his wand to his throat. "Sonorus!" Immediately his voice began to project as if on a stadium loud speaker.

"Good afternoon witches and wizards! Welcome to the final Quidditch match of the year... Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"

Cheers and whistling erupted from the crowd of around four hundred.

Gryffindor's side waved red and gold banners, which matched the sea of deep red and gold cloaks and scarves the students wore, intermingled with friends and family.

Slytherin's side were equally as colorful, but with the colors of dark green and silver.

The announcer continued. "Today's game is particularly exciting as we have with us Mr. Benjamin Versval, Mr. Kardinal Starven, and Mr. Angus Cornbluth of the 'Knights' to watch our Hogwarts players in action! After the game today they will be exploring their options as they decide which if any of our sixth and seventh year students may be talented enough to try out for our famous major league team!"

Cornbluth, Starven and Versval stood and waved politely to the crowd before seating themselves again.

"Now, without further delay," the announcer continued, "Let's begin the game!"

The crowd roared in expectation.

"On the left side of the field, with a game status this year of two victories, let's hear it for Slytherin!"

One by one the Slytherin players shot out of their tower like cannons, a blur of green and silver on broomsticks as they circled the field in a straight line and came to a halt beside the three tall poles topped with circles that served as their goals.

Through his binoculars, Ron saw Malfoy sitting atop his Nimbus 2005 with a face full of snotty pompousness, although his jaw sported a rather nasty greenish-purple bruise. He turned his binoculars toward Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father on Slytherin's side and saw the same expression playing on his haughty features.

"Amazing how alike they are," yelled Ron to Hermione over the roar of the crowd.

Hermione turned her binoculars toward the elder Malfoy and nodded in agreement.

"And on the right side of the field," the announcer continued, "with a game status this year of two victories yet again, let's hear it for Gryffindor!"

Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Molly, along with Arthur and Ginny joined the Gryffindor side in a roar as the red and gold players shot out of their tower and circled the field in a V formation, coming to rest beside their goals.

Hermione fixed her binoculars on Harry and saw him straddling his Firebolt confidently. The wind from above blew his unruly hair into his eyes, and he swiped at it absently.

Hermione blushed as she noticed her pendant begin to glow a bit and quickly clamped a hand around it.

Ron grabbed a handful of her monogrammed scarf and yanked gently on it.

"Are you cold, or are you blushing?" he grinned wickedly, "Relax...I already know about the necklace."

"What?" Hermione asked surprised. "How..."

Ron shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Harry can't keep anything from me. You know that..."

At the moment, Hermione rather wished that she didn't.

Oliver Wood sauntered out to the middle of the field where the Quidditch chest had already been placed and kicked it open with a loud pop. The bludgers struggled against their restraints.

"Players to your positions!"

One of the Slytherin chasers, Jarius Hemdarin, rode into the middle of the field to be met by Peter Gallor, a Gryffindor chaser. Both shook hands reluctantly and flew back from each other a bit.

"Let's have a clean game," said Oliver, reminiscent of Madame Hootch, as he squinted up at them. He reached down, being careful to keep his head out of the way, and flipped up the straps to both bludgers, letting them soar wildly up into the air. They immediately began flying haphazardly around the field. Then he picked up the snitch, its golden wings unfurling. It lit off of his hand and darted away. Then hesitating, he grabbed the quaffle, and after a few moments tossed it high into the air.

"And the game begins!" yelled the announcer.

Gallor sped past Hemdarin to snatch the quaffle and began speeding towards the Gryffindor goal. Hemdarin caught up and began smashing into him as he grabbed for the ball.

Just in time, Gallor ducked as a bludger flew into Hemdarin and smashed him off course. He threw the quaffle as hard as he could as the Slytherin keeper, Beller, performed a riding roll to try to smash it away, but failed. A bell sounded.

"Goal Gryffindor!" screamed the announcer. Ten points were added with the flick of a wand. The right side of the field roared with excitement.

A Slytherin chaser grabbed the quaffle and zoomed quickly towards the goal, zigzagging as George Weasley, a beater, and Marcus Wallaby, another chaser, flew in on either side.

"George!" Weasley heard his name and saw his brother, Fred, knock a bludger towards him. He ducked, but so did the target, leaving Wallaby to take the brunt of the hit. The bludger glanced Wallaby's arm, leaving him howling and bloody, but not grievously injured.

The Slytherin threw the quaffle towards his goal only to have it smashed back past him by Michelle Keys, the Gryffindor keeper. She smiled annoyingly at him, but another Slytherin had recovered the ball and managed to get it past her and through the middle circle.

"Goal Slytherin!" yelled the announcer. Another swish and flick, and ten points were added for Slytherin. "A tie as the two teams struggle to best each other!"

McGonnagol, above the announcer, bit her nails in excitement, but after catching Professor Dumbledore's amused expression, dropped her hand embarrassed, and turned away.

Harry, higher than them all, circled the field, his eyes keenly searching for the snitch. He passed Malfoy, flying at the same level and searching just as keenly. Malfoy sneered at him.

"Still on your game, Potter?"

"Jaw hurt, Malfoy?" Harry retorted.

Malfoy glared angrily as Harry glanced at the puffy discolored welt on the left side of Draco's jaw. Malfoy had indeed had a cracked mandible, which had been quickly mended by Madame Pomfrey, in-between her clucking and mumbling about hot-tempered boys. It hadn't been one of Malfoy's finer moments.

Harry rolled his eyes in disgust. "Just play."

The game went on as similarly as the first half; each side managing to score around the same number of points.

Both Harry and Malfoy soon began to realize that the snitch was really going to be the game winner. It usually was, but in the odd chance that the rival team was more than a hundred and fifty points ahead, catching the snitch would still not be the game winner... only the game ender.

Both had sighted it several times during the game, but somehow it kept getting lost in the blur of bodies zooming in and out of their line of vision.

Finally, both sighted a glint of gold flitting about the lower edges of the field, and took off at the same time.

"It looks like the snitch has been spotted!" the announcer yelled excitedly, "Both seekers seem to be headed in the same direction..."

As if it sensed it had been detected, the snitch began flitting away at enormous speed.

Harry and Draco, both with an arm outstretched towards the tiny golden ball, rammed into one another ferociously, the prize just out of their reach. Draco threw a fierce punch at Harry, which he dodged with some difficulty and threw back just as quickly.

Ron had his binoculars pressed so hard against his eyes that he feared having red rings around them afterwards. "Hermione, are you catching this!?" he grinned wildly, elbowing her.

He quickly realized that he was elbowing air. Lowering his binoculars, he looked over to Hagrid.

"Where's Hermione?"

"Went with Ginny to get summat fer me from concessions," said Hagrid, rubbing his stomach absently, for his focus was really on the game. "I've only had rock cakes fer breakfast. I'm starvin'!"

Ron calmed himself and placed the glasses back up to his eyes again. "Oh well... she's with Ginny. That's ok then..."

He continued to watch the game just as Harry and Malfoy both cast themselves off of their brooms, reaching for the same goal. Since they had both been traveling through the air at almost record speed, they both skidded onto the ground, rolling and flying through the air as if weightless. When they finally both came skidding to a halt, neither was able to move yet. The crowd collectively gasped and jumped to their feet in expectation.

"Wait... wait," the announcer crooned anxiously, "We don't yet know who has it or if it's been caught."

Malfoy shook himself back to reality first, his pale skin and blonde hair mangled with sweat and grime. Feeling one of his hands around the snitch, he gritted his teeth into a greedy smile of triumph.

"Yes!" he breathed out to himself. He waited for Potter to pick himself up. He wanted everyone to see his face when the snitch was held up.

Harry raised himself shakily to his elbows and knees, spitting a mouthful of dirt onto the ground; his hands and arms covered with small nicks and cuts. He twisted himself around and sat up, shaking the sweat and grime from his hair; his face also covered with perspiration and dirt.

Finally he glanced at Malfoy, who was grinning cheshire-like across from him and then looked up to the sky. Both teams were hovering above them in anticipation.

"What're you on about?" Harry asked gruffly as he stood to his feet. Malfoy followed.

"I caught it," he said simply, smiling haughtily back.

The crowd murmured amongst themselves eagerly.

"You caught it," Harry repeated. "Let me see."

Malfoy held out a fist and opened it. The crowd gasped, and then rocked back with disappointment. Harry stared at Malfoy, and flicked a gaze from Malfoy's hand to his face.

Malfoy was holding a rock. A smooth and very round one, but a rock nonetheless. He stared in horror.

"It's more yellow," said Harry, holding out his hand, "Sort of like this."

The snitch lit off of his hand and hovering in front of his face, took off once again. Harry watched it fly away, beaming.

The crowd gasped and Gryffindor's side began cheering wildly. The sound was deafening.

Gryffindor's team screamed in delight and began a victory lap around the field. Somewhere up in the stands, Wood jumped up and down, screaming for joy.

"Game over!" screamed the announcer, "With Slytherin at ninety points, and Gryffindor at two hundred and twenty points... Gryffindor wins the house cup!"

McGonnagol, grinning from ear to ear, jumped up in excitement and grabbed Snape's shoulders, laughing and shaking him to within an inch of his life, gushing.

"Isn't it wonderful!?" Then McGonnagol realized she was gripping the head of Slytherin house. "Oh... I'm s... better luck next year, Severus."

It took all the self control Snape had not to thrash her senseless. Beside him, Dumbledore chuckled.

Ron watched as Harry began being beaten almost to death by the rest of his team as they screamed happily and threw him up into the air. Wood rushed onto the field and knocked Harry to the ground in congratulations.

Ron grinned and turned to celebrate with Hermione, but she still hadn't returned.

"I can't believe she missed this!" Ron yelled to Hagrid.

Hagrid, munching on his hotdog and Bertie Botts every flavor beans turned to Ron, swallowing a mouthful.

"Ginny said she stayed down at the sidelines to watch... Said she was talkin' to someone; didn't mention who... I'm sure she didn't miss it. Probably down there right now waitin' ta meet Harry off the field."

But Ron clutched his sweater to his chest. Something felt wrong. You couldn't really see much from the ground in Quidditch. Surely she would've come back up in the stands to watch Harry, or at least to invite Ron to come back with her to watch from where she was.

"Um... I'll see you Hagrid," said Ron making his way nervously past him.

"Where're you goin' so quick?"

"Just want to find Hermione..." said Ron nodding to his mother, father, and Ginny as he shoved past them.

"Wait!...Well what the...," began Arthur Weasley, "Where is that boy off to now?"

Ron, trying to free himself from the crowded steps leading down to the ground, opted to jump instead. He vaulted over the banister, landing somewhat awkwardly and began scanning the crowd for her familiar long brown hair. Once he thought he caught sight of her.

"Hermione, where did you go?" he said catching her arm and turning her.

A fifth year Ravenclaw stared up at him in confusion.

"Oh...sorry... I'm sorry." Ron dropped her arm and felt himself start to panic.

No...No calm down... She's on school grounds... she's safe...

But the longer he waded through the crowd, the more his stomach began to churn. He saw Harry, walking out of the field dragging his Firebolt behind him, and surrounded by his fellow teammates, grinning brilliantly. Through the crowd, he caught sight of Ron and his eyes lit up.

"Oy, Ron!" he waved to him, a grin splitting his face.

Ron felt nauseated. He turned from Harry's gaze to scan the crowd once more for Hermione. Surely she would've been at the field to congratulate him.

Harry turned to speak to his teammates and ducked quickly as a mixed throng of reporters and one or two recruiters surrounded them, hovering microphones and cameras blocking their escape.

Deftly, he squeezed between a reporter and her cameraman and trotted over to Ron.

"Did you see that!?" He grinned, almost sounding like a young boy again, "Malfoy had a rock..." But his voice trailed off as he caught the sick look on his friends face. Ron opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"Ron..." said Harry in confusion. He scanned the crowd around him and peered up into the stands. He saw Molly, Arthur, Hagrid and Ginny making their way happily down the stairs. They caught his eye and waved at him, grinning proudly.

"Ron..." Harry began to feel a wave of sickness sweep over him in a rush that made him weak. "Where is she..."

He saw Ron's eyes fill with tears, and it terrified him. Harry had never seen his friend tear up about anything. He gripped Ron's shoulders so hard that it hurt.

"RON!"

"I don't know."

The words were simple and devastating at the same time. Harry's hands fell and he stumbled backward dropping his broom. His breathing became shallow.

"What...you were...with her. Where did she go?"

"She went with Ginny to concession to get Hagrid some food," Ron began quietly, "Ginny came back alone."

Harry felt his eyes begin to sting. This couldn't be happening...it's not happening...

"Ginny said she left her talking to someone."

I'm dreaming...I've got to wake up. She's here somewhere. It doesn't mean he took her...he couldn't have...It doesn't mean...

"She said she'd be back up in a few minutes..."

The grounds are covered...she didn't leave...she's safe here...she's safe...

"Harry..."

I'll find her...she's here somewhere...probably waiting for me somewhere. I just can't see her. Why can't I see her!?

"Harry!" Ron yelled.

Harry realized he was surrounded by a few reporters, Ron's family, and Hagrid, all staring at him with concern. Ron clenched and unclenched his jaw.

"No one watches from the ground. You can't see anything."

Harry and Ron stared at each other for what seemed like only a millisecond before they both took off; Harry on his broom, and Ron running.

"Somethin's wrong," said Hagrid to the Weasleys, "I don't think they can fin' Hermione."

Harry mounted his broom and pushed off as if he were on the outside of his body looking in. The thing was so hard for him to accept that he felt like he would awaken at any moment. As his eyes searched the ground below, he clutched at his chest. He'd never really known what it felt like to have his heart broken, as he had never really known his parents when they were taken from him; but the more he scanned the grounds, the more desolate he became. As they emptied, it became more and more clear that Hermione was not there.

His throat constricted and his chest began to ache. He began to understand the sensation of heart break.

He realized that he had flown farther past the field than Hermione would have willingly gone and landed his broom. He found that he was near Hagrid's hut and began to traipse the short distance to it.

An unlikely, but hopeful thought hit him that maybe, for some reason, he might find Hermione there. Harry knew there was no explanation for it, but felt himself nonetheless drawn closer to the dilapidated hut and therefore closer to the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

As he approached it, he realized that Hagrid's door had been blown off of its hinges.

Quickly, Harry stepped to the side of the open doorway and drew his wand, listening with bated breath for any movement inside. Finally, hearing nothing, he slowly stepped around the scorched door on the ground and stepped up into Hagrid's home.

The place had been torn apart, and worse, it looked as if a battle had taken place. The table and chairs were thrown over, books were scattered haphazardly, the fireplace looked as if it had just been in recent use and not cleaned, and there were scorch marks marring the walls and floor as if someone had blown the place apart with his wand.

Nausea once again threatened Harry as he scanned the hut, looking for some clue as to what must have gone on. He'd been to Hagrid's hut so often that he could picture how everything was supposed to be.

The chairs and table had been there against the wall, the old Hogwarts schoolbooks and books about different magical animals had been on that part of the bookshelf; the other part had been lined with clay pots and jars...

As he stood, mentally piecing things together, the soft crackling of footsteps on glass startled him around. He whirled quickly, his wand outstretched.

"Careful Harry," came the soft scratchy voice of Dumbledore, "It's all right now... lower that."

Harry dropped his wand slowly and forced his blurred eyes to focus on his Headmaster. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

"Professor...Hermione's missing." His throat closed up so tight that it almost hurt to speak and he dropped his head.

"I know." Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment and nodded, and then held out something for the young man to see. "We've already looked for her...Harry, I don't think you'll find her here."

Harry looked up quickly to see that Dumbledore was holding out his hand, gripping something colored red and gold that looked suspiciously like a Gryffindor scarf.

He crossed the room in three steps and grabbed it greedily from the Headmaster.

It looked as if it had been dragged through the dirt, and was scorched with a long streak of ash. Harry looked towards the end of the material and saw what he dreaded...the initials H.G.

Dropping the scarf as if it burned him, he stumbled past Dumbledore and around Hagrid's house to find a bush to vomit behind. He'd never felt so sick in his life.

As he sat up, coughing and trying to slow his heart, he heard Hagrid's heavy footfalls moving towards his house.

"Perfessor Dumbledore, what are you..."

Harry heard Hagrid pause and gasp as he caught sight of his ruined home. Quickly the giant stepped inside, his large jaw dropping at the destruction.

"What happened here..." He was too stunned to move.

"Harry just happened upon it," explained Dumbledore, reaching down to pick up the discarded scarf once more.

At that moment Ron ran up, skidding to a halt and trying hard to catch his breath. His face was red and sweaty from running. He also looked sick.

"Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore...wh...what happened!? Where's Harry? I thought I saw him land over here..."

Harry made his way back around the house, pale and shaken with a heavy sense of guilt that had begun to form in the pit of his stomach.

He looked Ron over for a moment before speaking.

"I'm right here, Ron."

Ron whirled and saw his friend approaching him, looking pale and over-wrought.

Harry walked to Dumbledore and held his hand out. The headmaster in turn handed him something, which he held out to Ron.

As Ron took the scarf and fingered the H.G. lettering, his already pale face turned a more ashen shade of white.

"What're we gonna do..." he said to no one in particular, "We don't even know who has her... or where, or why..."

Once again, the calm scratchy voice of reason spoke into the chaos. "What we will not do is panic," said Dumbledore, "As soon as we saw that Miss Granger was missing, we stopped all people from leaving. We will question each one in turn to see who last saw her at the game... where they saw her and who with..."

"She was with me," said Ron, clutching his chest, "I was supposed to look out for her, I..."

Harry, leaning against the smudged door jamb, turned red-rimmed eyes towards Ron.

"Harry, I'm so sorry..." Ron choked out, "I thought she'd be safe on the grounds...she just went to concession with Ginny...I..."

Harry closed his eyes, too emotional to speak but held his hand up. He didn't blame Ron. If anything, he blamed himself. Voldemort had never been after Hermione; he was after Harry, and using her to get to him. It was as clear as crystal to him in that moment. His "date", so to speak, with destiny had finally come and, Harry thought angrily, he would have to be up for the challenge.

Previous conversations that he had just recently had began to haunt his mind.

...and if we stay on Hogwarts grounds we're safe...

...that's all it is, just a rumor...

A wave of nausea swept over Harry again and he forced it back down. He'd never hated himself so much in all his life.

McGonnagol's reasoning voice also plagued him.

...Let them be with you Harry...you can't control them...you can't even try...

And then Hermione's voice.

...even if we did go back to being just friends, nothing would change...I'm not gonna leave you...I'm gonna be right by you through everything...You're worth every minute to me...

Guilt and dread enveloped Harry at that moment in a slow, heavy suffocation. This happened because of him. It was his fault. He felt himself staggering under the weight and sat to the ground quickly, his head in his hands. All the brashness and confidence of the Harry that he had known less than two hours ago was gone, to be replaced with confusion and ultimately, desolation.

He felt a strong, wizened hand grip his shoulder and looked up to see Dumbledore standing above him.

At that moment, Harry lost it. He began to cry like he had never done before in his life. Great wracking sobs shook his body and he felt all the strength leave him as he sunk lower and lower.

Hagrid and Ron, with tears in their eyes, stepped back from the scene in confusion. Ron, for his part, had never seen Harry Potter cry. He realized that seeing his usually brave friend lose it completely terrified him, as well as making the situation dangerously more real.

Dumbledore grunted as he sat beside Harry on the ground and continued to grip the boy's shoulder until he had cried himself into exhaustion.

When there were no more tears, Harry lifted his head and leaned it back against Hagrid's house in despair.

"I'm so sorry," he began in a husky voice, "Ron, Professor, Hagrid... this is all because of me..."

Dumbledore's grip tightened on Harry and he turned calmly to Hagrid and Ron. "If you wouldn't mind, I think there is still a lot of confusion going on down at the field... Hagrid, would you please go help Professor McGonnagol and the rest of the teachers round up our guests for questioning, and then help escort them to the portkeys or the floo network? And Mr. Weasley, please go round up the prefects, and tell them to take the students back to their common rooms immediately."

Hagrid and Ron nodded and mumbling their assent, went quickly to do what the Headmaster asked.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry.

"Now Harry... is there anyone you've noticed lately that you might suspect of this?"

Harry turned a surprised, red-rimmed gaze to him. "From the school?"

Dumbledore nodded patiently. "The professors and I performed the safety charm on the grounds last night, which would have kept out any intruders. But it wouldn't have helped if the person were already on school grounds."

Harry shook his head slowly but then remembered his scar. "My scar did start burning yesterday morning though...but I just thought it was another confirmation that the rumor was true... I never suspected anyone at the school..."

Again Harry vehemently chided himself for his own foolishness. What if the person had been in the school the whole time?... Even near the common room...

Harry realized that he was gripping Hermione's scarf so hard that his fingernails had dug into the flesh of his hand, causing him to bleed.

Dumbledore dropped the hand from Harry's shoulders and spoke to him in that quiet understanding way that Harry found hard to ignore.

"Harry... I want you to understand something," the Headmaster looked tired and worn himself, "Voldemort must've had a servant on the grounds at least a day before the game. This is going to make it very difficult to find the culprit... what with the hundred or more witches and wizards that were here today. But we will not stop searching for the intruder. He will be found."

At that moment, Dumbledore's eyes flashed something much different than the trademark warm twinkle, and Harry found it easy to understand why the Headmaster was feared by Voldemort.

"I also want you to understand something else," continued Dumbledore, "I fear that this battle is going to be between you and the dark lord alone... I know that you realize that he took your friend to lure you to him... and that you also realize that off of school grounds and away from the Dursley's you are no longer under any protection."

"I know," said Harry determinedly, "But that won't stop me."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded, helping Harry to his feet.

"First we must find out why Hagrid's home was destroyed. It may help us understand what has happened to Miss Granger... Can you think of a spell to help us?"

Harry nodded wearily. Dumbledore probably knew a hundred spells to help at this moment, but he was ever the teacher.

Harry took out his wand and extended his arm toward Hagrid's ruined home.

"Prius Composito."

Magically, things that were broken began to mend. Large shards shot to their counterparts and sealed immediately, and when a jar or vase was through repairing, it placed itself back in its prearranged position. Books closed themselves and sailed back to their positions; chairs began righting themselves and scooted back under the roughly hewn table top. Hagrid's cauldron, toppled on its side, sailed through the air and hung itself back over the hearth. Long streaks of ash, and gashes in the wood of the walls began to disappear and the large oak door sailed back to its opening and re-latched itself, the wood healing on its own.

The last thing to repair itself was the window by the door. The large and small jagged pieces of glass flew up to the window and began fitting together as panes. When the window had finally completed itself, the cracks began to seal quickly until the glass was one whole pane again.

"Good," said Dumbledore, satisfied. "Now we will see if Hagrid can find if anything is missing."

As if on cue, Hagrid , having completed his task in helping secure the school grounds, ambled up behind Dumbledore and Harry.

Harry turned quickly to him, a flicker of hope in his eyes.

"Hagrid... any news?"

The giant sighed greatly, swiping a tear from his eye. "No Harry, I'm sorry. Ain' no one seen her... not even yer classmates... An' all the guests checked out clean... is' like she disappeared."

Harry put a hand to his forehead and willed himself to stay calm.

Dumbledore turned to the giant, remembering the task at hand. "Hagrid, will you please search your home and see if anything is missing? It may help us find Miss Granger."

"'Course." Hagrid felt a little sheepish at not having thought of that himself.

There was very little searching to be done; it wasn't very hard to figure out if anything was gone since Hagrid had so little.

On the shelf of his bookcase, where even the dust had replaced itself, he found three jars, and beside those, a clean ring of wood surrounded by dust where one jar should have been. He turned back to the Headmaster and Harry.

"Only one thing missin' here... though I was supposed ter have delivered it ta Madame Pomfrey a couple a days ago," Hagrid blushed at his mistake, " 'S jus' a jar of Flame Drock ashes."

***********************************************

Dumbledore and Harry walked quickly back to the school after having said goodnight to Hagrid.

Harry had managed to pull himself out of despondence enough to get dangerously angry, and he was letting Dumbledore know it, and of his impatience as well.

"I need to find out where she is," he spoke huskily, "I shouldn't even be going back to the school..."

"You need direction first Harry," said Dumbledore firmly, "Better to know where you're headed than to waste time wandering..."

"I'm wasting time now!" Harry yelled. "I don't understand why there's no note or anything to help me find her! How am I supposed to come to Voldemort when I don't know where he is!?"

They reached the huge double doors to the school and stepped into the quiet, deserted halls.

"Perhaps you will have your answer soon," said Dumbledore, grabbing Harry's shoulder. "The teachers and I, along with the recruiters, will be having another meeting tonight, to discuss what will happen now, and what we can do in the meantime."

Once again, the Headmaster looked at Harry with compassion.

"Search out your answer as you, Ronald, and Hermione always have. Let the memory of your past adventures guide you."

At the mention of Hermione's name, Harry once again felt his heart rip in two and shuddered out a sigh. She was usually the one that found the answers, while he and Ron took action. They needed her to find her. Despondence began to lay its icy hands on his shoulders once more.

Dumbledore spoke to him again. "One last thing Harry. Grief... is a great adversary, but can also be used to help you...Despair on the other hand... will rob you of any help or hope you have left."

Once again he clapped a tight hand on the young man's shoulders.

"Don't let it take hold of you...not here...and especially not when facing Voldemort, if it comes to that. It can destroy you, just as surely as dark magic can."

Harry nodded at the wise old wizard and grabbed his arm in appreciation, but one thing more plagued him.

"Professor, about the flame drock ash... I don't understand why the intruder would take it, unless...unless he was wounded somehow... or unless Hermione was." Harry blinked hard at the thought.

"The ash is used to heal many wounds and ailments Harry; you're right. Perhaps you can start there."

With a last squeeze to the shoulder, Dumbledore left him to head toward the meeting. Along with discussing the new situation, they would also be discussing how and when the recruiters might get along with their business as well. Even barring the student kidnapping, he knew protocol still had to be recognized. The game had still been played, and it still had to be decided where and when it would be appropriate to let the recruiters tag their candidates.

He was just thankful that McGonnagol had managed to get rid of all of the reporters.

As Dumbledore headed in one direction, Harry took off in the other, headed towards the Gryffindor common room as fast as his legs would carry him.

******************************************

Chapter 8

(An hour earlier)

It was dark, but warm. When Hermione came too, she felt herself lying on something scratchy and rough, irritating her skin. As she tried to open her eyes her head burst with pain.

"Does Potter know yet..." a scratchy high -pitched voice sounded from somewhere very near.

Immediately Hermione closed her eyes once again, suddenly aware that she was not alone. The events of the last hour came back to her mind in a rush of sound and vision. The man at the game, asking her questions about Harry, fooling her into thinking he was interested in him because of the game... then he had a wand on her; she had escaped far enough ahead of him to hide in the only place she could see in the near distance, Hagrid's house. But he found her there... the wand fight; he had finally subdued her. She remembered being tossed unceremoniously over his shoulder...he stepped into Hagrid's unlit fireplace, threw some powder, and they disappeared in a cloud of green smoke and fire. She must've passed out again, because here she was, in this strange place, with no idea where he'd taken her...

"No my lord, he's still in the game. B..But he will know soon enough..."

The voice was the voice of her captor, but the other...who did it belong to? She had never actually heard Voldemort's voice; it had only been described to her by Harry, and then not with much detail, as Harry never liked to talk much about the dark lord or his experiences with him. Her mind wouldn't allow her to process such horrible information. Surely her captor had taken her for other reasons... he wasn't in with Voldemort... not him... He didn't seem the type, although in reality, neither had Professor Quirrel.

"And the cloaking spell... has it held out?"

The servant paused for a moment. He knew it never boded well to lie to Voldemort. He always saw right through it...especially when the lie was coming from one of his own. Somehow coming into allegiance with the dark lord gave him a hold on the person's mind, not in the controlling sense, but as if he could tell what you were thinking, and feeling. So, as the cloaking spell no longer mattered, the servant opted for the truth.

"I...I forgot to recast it, my lord...but he never saw my face. I was outside of the Gryffindor common area early this morning, and I heard him scream...I knew the password, so I peeked in to look, and the boy was on the floor, clutching at his forehead...I...I know he felt my presence, b..but he didn't see me...I made sure of that..."

"Fool! You could have ruined everything!" The other's voice screeched in an unearthly roar, "Had Potter decided to run to his door, at that very instant the plan would have fallen apart!"

Hermione heard a swish, but curiously no footsteps as the obvious head of the operation crossed the room to where his accomplice stood.

"M...my lord!" the servant stuttered, obviously backing away a bit, "B...but he didn't! I...I captured Granger without a hitch! And by now, surely he knows she's gone, and from what I understand of their relationship... Th...they're very close... He'll be looking for her right now!"

When he replied, the head conspirator's voice was low, and very dangerous. "And that fact is the only thing that's keeping you alive at this moment."

"Y...yes, my lord...I understand...I'm sorry, I should have been m...more careful...b..but she is here, and no one is the wiser..."

"Yes, and now for the rest of the plan," said the scratchy high pitched voice. "Return to Hogwarts, and tell Potter that I have Granger. Lead him back to me. Remember, if you succeed, I have the ability to give you power beyond anything you've ever experienced, as my right hand... but if you fail... the consequences will be dire indeed."

The servant stuttered a reply, and walked quickly over to the unlit fireplace, stepping into it. With a whoosh of green flames and smoke he was gone, leaving Hermione alone with the head captor.

Through barely opened eyes, she saw him get up, and point his wand towards the fireplace. The energy that shot out of the wand was a deep red, and it immediately kindled a fire that glowed a deep, unearthly ruby. Then he moved towards a doorway that obviously led to a different room. If only she could see his face; he wore a long black cloak with a large hood that completely covered his features. She would feel much better prepared to fight if she could see her captor.

The mysterious man took one glance in her direction, and moved silently out of the room.

Hermione lay for some time, making sure that he was not coming back anytime soon. Finally, when he didn't re-emerge, she pulled herself up to her knees, her first and immediate thought being of escape. As soon as she fully opened her eyes, though, her head burst again with a fresh wave of pain. She brought trembling fingers to her forehead, probing, and they came back sticky and red with blood.

As her vision began to focus more clearly, she found herself on a scratchy, dirty wool rug just a few feet from the hearth.

The fire, which could have been warm and inviting like the ones at Hogwarts, instead gave off an extra-ordinary heat and crackled and danced a glowing deep ruby, throwing the whole room into an eerie red glow.

As her eyes focused on the fire, she finally noticed something horrible that made her instantly recoil.

A large python slept curled up near the hearth, only feet away from her. Its diamond shaped head told her all she needed to know about whether or not it was poisonous. The snake was capable of crushing, or poisoning its prey to death, but thankfully, it still had not stirred.

As deathly still as possible, Hermione began to take in the rest of her surroundings.

The cabin was medium sized, with two wooden pillars on either side of the main door. Only a few chairs adorned the room she was in, along with a small pantry, a bookshelf full of spell books, a few barrels and boxes, and a broom and cauldron.

As she was in the library so often at Hogwarts, she recognized most of the books as Dark Arts copies, that were usually in the restricted section.

Hermione's eyes rested on the door between the pillars, and her thoughts turned toward her wand. As she put her hand to the pocket of her robe, she realized that it wasn't there. Frantically she began to pat herself down, and found nothing. Of course he would have taken it...

She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea washed over her. She was defenseless.

As she slowly stood to her feet, keeping her eyes peeled for her captor, she darted her eyes around the room, finally focusing above her at the mantle, high above the fireplace.

There, blessedly sticking out a bit over the lip was her wand. She felt her heart flip anxiously. If she could just find something to stand on she may be able to reach it.

Still sensing no one around her, she found a short, hollow barrel on the far side of the room, and tip-toed over to it, carrying it as quietly as she could back to the fireplace. She climbed on top of it, precariously balancing as her fingers reached for the tip of her wand.

"That wouldn't be wise." The hoarse high-pitched voice sounded from a dark corner of the room. Voldemort smiled mirthlessly in the dark. He had apparated there a few minutes ago, having spotted Hermione trying to make her escape, and watched her in mild amusement. After all, why not have a little fun while he waited for Potter?

Startled, Hermione felt herself tipping off of the barrel and screamed, trying to regain her balance. But before she could, her captor held out his wand and bellowed, his voice like fingernails on a blackboard.

"Expelliarmus!"

The barrel under Hermione exploded into fragments and she fell with a hard thud to the floor.

As she struggled to pick herself back up she shook so hard she could barely make her body obey, besides the fact that the fall had split open a large gash on her left knee.

Willing her body to move, she turned to peer into the dark corner, searching for the face that owned the voice. She saw nothing in the blackness until two red slits began to open and focused their unearthly gaze in her direction.

Hermione backed away, stumbling in panic. It couldn't be...so close to school grounds... But if she hadn't known the voice, the eyes were unmistakable...Harry had told both her and Ron about the eyes that no one else in the wizarding world could own...

The face of her captor began to take form as he rose and began to glide toward her, his feet not seeming to hit the floor.

The hideous red eyes seemed to be widening in pleasure. The ghostly pale face held a pair of slits for nostrils and a sickening skeletal like grin.

Hermione backed away, glancing left and right for something... anything to help her. She felt herself back into a corner, being able to go no further, and cowered back as far as she could.

Voldemort chuckled as he remembered a ridiculous Muggle expression..."deer in the headlights." Granger seemed to personify just that at the moment.

Gasping for air and shuddering violently, Hermione forced herself to glare bravely into his eyes.

"I know who you are, Tom Riddle...I know why I've been brought here. If you think Harry's gonna be foolish enough to come out here alone to face you, you're out of your mind!"

"Oh, but he will..." said Voldemort cackling again in a throaty, scratchy voice. Then he simply pointed at her chest with his wand.

Hermione glanced down to see the necklace that Harry had given her just a couple of nights ago glowing brightly in the already reddish glare of the room.

Quickly she grabbed the pendant shielding the light from Voldemort as if somehow she could protect Harry by doing so.

Voldemort smiled mirthlessly. "I already know about it... My servant, worthless as he may seem, did make it a point to follow Potter around the school... He's filled me in on all of his exploits. It glows when Potter thinks of you...It actually hasn't stopped since you've been here. Quite touching, really."

Hermione gripped the pendant tighter, forcing the point of the heart to dig painfully into her palm.

Voldemort glided closer to her until he was only yards away.

"I know he will come for you. And when he does, he'll be out of school grounds and out of Dumbledore's protection. When he's dead, I'll be restored to my full power. So you see... I will kill him." Again he grinned, delighted in his own plan.

"No!" Hermione began to sob. She looked up at Voldemort with pleading eyes. "Take me...take me instead...Don't hurt him..."

Voldemort had had enough. Again he raised his wand angrily.

"Expelliarmus!"

The curse hit Hermione in the chest, splitting the chain from her neck and smashing her back against the corner. She slid to the floor in a heap, her school robes billowing around her like a blanket.

Voldemort turned with a swish of his cloak and floated to his chair, throwing himself into it angrily.

As she lay on the floor, struggling to breathe, Hermione willed herself to reach out as far as she could with her hand and grasp her necklace, dragging it back to her.

Having no more strength, she held it to her face, only vaguely aware that the pendant had become so hot due to the constant glowing that her tears hissed off of it as water would when dropped on a hot stove.

With a last glance at the ruby colored heart, Hermione closed her eyes and let blackness engulf her.

Nagini lifted his diamond shaped head and hissed to Voldemort.

"You're right Nagini...she is a fool. No one matters but Potter...no one."

*****************************************

Harry skidded to a halt in front of the fat lady and spoke in a hoarse voice, his heart beating wildly.

"Chocolate frogs."

"Well it's about time," replied the lady haughtily, "The new curfew was an hour ago..."

"Just open up!" Harry yelled angrily. He dropped his gaze and looked at her almost in warning.

The portrait gaped. She'd never in her whole existence been spoken to in such a manner... But feeling curiously intimidated, she complied.

"I never in all my life..." she sputtered as she creaked open, "How rude and insolent..."

Harry almost threw himself through the doorway. Instantly he was set upon by as throng of Gryffindors; students and Quidditch teammates alike.

"Harry, I'm so sorry..."

"Did you find her? Any trace?"

"The teachers questioned everyone...Every body turned out clean..."

"Is that her scarf your holding!?" This was Ginny Weasley, who had become very close to Hermione in the past year. Her voice was so tight with emotion that it came out in a squeak.

Harry looked at her and nodded. His eyes were haunted enough that she knew something terrible had happened.

"Where's Dumbledore?" began the questioners again.

"I heard about Hagrid's hut...What happened?"

"Where's Ron!?" It came out in more of a roar than Harry had intended, but everyone seemed to understand, and backed off a bit.

"He's upstairs," said George Weasley, "He hasn't been able to talk to anyone...He's bloody messed up..."

Harry nodded curtly and wove his way through the crowd, taking the steps to the boys dorms two at a time.

He ran over to Ron's bed and yanked the curtains back.

"C'mon Ron...We need to go to the library, now." It was more of a demand than a request.

Ron, sitting Indian-style on his bed, just continued to stare down at his hands. If Harry's voice was strident, he didn't notice.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." His voice came out in a high-pitched croak, in-between breathing and sobbing. "I'm so sorry."

"No time for that," said Harry quickly, "Let's go...I need you..."

Ron looked up at him numbly. "What for... I failed you...I failed her..."

"Don't be daft!" Harry almost yelled. He grabbed Ron's arm and yanked him up.

Ron was approximately the same height and weight as Harry. If he had wanted to fight, he certainly could have given Harry a challenge.

Instead he continued to stare at him numbly.

Harry gritted his teeth and began to shake his best friend.

"Ron this isn't like you!...C'mon, snap out of it...I need you!"

Ron just shook his head.

"Don't make me hit you!" Harry yelled, mindless of the frustrated tears beginning to spill down his face. He balled up a fist and held it back to strike him, but dropped it just as quickly, knowing he'd never do it.

"Ron, Dumbledore said something to me tonight...He said grief can be used to help you, but despair will take away all hope."

Fresh tears welled up in Ron's eyes and he swiped at them absently.

"Ron, I need your help...Dumbledore said that we should search out our answer, just like we always have... I think he's right."

Slowly Ron looked up, regaining some of his old fire as he saw it burn in Harry.

"In the library..."

Harry nodded, searching Ron's face.

"I think you're right." Ron smiled a little and Harry was reassured. He needed his friend to be strong. He needed it to help him be strong...for Hermione.

Harry began to run out of the door, Ron at his heels until Ron skidded to a halt.

"Wait..."

Ron jogged back to his bed and reaching his school trunk, he thrashed it open and grabbed his crystal ball, a parchment and a quill.

"Somehow I think we might actually use this."

Harry gave him a quizzical look but nodded.

Both ran downstairs and towards the common room, but Harry ran to Ginny before leaving and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her intently.

"I know you've been asked this Ginny, but you really didn't recognize the man you left Hermione with?"

Ginny turned red-rimmed eyes up to Harry. "I didn't see his face. After I bought Hagrid's food, Hermione was already talking to him. She was over by the field gate, but he was mostly hidden behind part of the tower. She saw me coming over and waved me back. She said she'd be back up in a few minutes."

A fresh sob escaped her lips. "How I wish I'd have gone over anyway to see who she was talking to... I should've known... No one else was down there and the concession stand was turned away from them...no one saw them but me..."

Harry grabbed her in a swift hug, releasing her quickly. "Don't do that...You're not responsible."

Ron walked over and put a hand on his sister's cheek.

"We'll find her Ginny...just keep your hopes up."

Ginny nodded mutely and watched as her brother and Harry once again wove their way past the mob of Gryffindor students and pushed open the portrait door, letting it slam shut behind them.

***********************************************

Harry had had the foresight to grab his father's old invisibility cloak as he knew that it was after curfew. Even if it wasn't he knew the Hogwarts drill. Whenever anything really bad happened, students were usually confined to their common rooms, as was the case now.

Holding the cloak up over he and Ron, they tried to jog as silently and in sync as possible towards the library, making sure to keep an eye out for Filch and Mrs. Norris.

As they finally reached the library and looked around silently for anyone else, they make their way to the restricted section of the huge room, both secretly feeling that the answer would lie there.

The wrought iron gate that separated the section from the other part of the library was kept locked, although neither Harry or Ron knew why, as it was easily charmed open.

Harry pulled out his wand as Ron's arms were full and whispered.

"Alohamora."

The lock on the gate fell into Harry's outstretched hand and he placed it quietly on a table.

He swung open the gate, which creaked a little too loudly for their comfort, and he and Ron entered.

As Harry removed the cloak and Ron and he were visible again, both realized with a shudder just how much they hated the library's restricted section. Even the feel of the area was different; almost darker somehow.

Both boys muttered Lumos, the tips of their wands lighting, and both decided to take different paths through the section.

"What'm I looking for," asked Ron flatly, his pale face barely illuminated by his wand.

"I don't know," said Harry, "I really don't. Maybe a book on summoning charms...anything."

Ron swallowed roughly. He had really hoped that Harry had a plan, but Harry looked just as lost as he was. Ron suddenly looked down at Harry's left hand.

"What'd you still have that for?"

Harry glanced down, and with a start, he realized that he hadn't let go of Hermione's scarf since grabbing it back from Dumbledore.

"I...I don't know."

With a haunted expression, Harry fingered the scarf, unwilling still to put it down.

Ron nodded in understanding. "See you in a bit."

As he watched Ron round the corner of one of the bookshelves, Harry faced the one beside him, bringing his wand up to look at the titles.

Goblin Uprisings of the 1650's...The Dark Arts: A History of Evil...Lost and Found: Magical Incantations for the Unknown...

The third book caught his attention. Hermione's whereabouts were unknown. She was lost...at least to them. Maybe this was what they were looking for. His heart gave a hopeful leap as he pulled the book from the shelf and placed it on the table.

Not willing to call Ron back yet for fear that he was wrong, Harry sat down and opened the book, gently placing Hermione's scarf down on the table beside him.

And that's when it began.

Harry's eyes were on the first page of the dusty volume, scanning the index when he saw a flash of red light beside his left hand.

Slowly he lifted his gaze, moving it over towards the glow and saw it coming from the scarf.

He was too startled to speak. Four or five brilliant red strands of light began running in straight lines and twisting together, forming themselves into what appeared to be a small note, secured with a thread of the red light, fastened to one corner of the scarf.

When the paper was through materializing, the only light that remained was that of his wand and the thready beam that attached the note.

Not caring what dark magic might have produced it, Harry tore the note off of the scarf and unfolded it, his eyes greedily eating the words, which again were written in a strange electrical red.

"Harry,

As you are reading this, it is safe to assume that you are finally alone with the scarf, or else the note would not have materialized. It is for you, and you alone.

I am a servant of the dark lord Voldemort. As per his instructions, I have taken what he has determined to be most precious to you.

If you want her back alive, you must meet him alone past the Forbidden Forest in the dark forest of Kavan.

If anyone else accompanies you, he will kill her immediately, for as you know, her life is of no consequence. It is up to you to decide, but do not delay too long. My lord is not a patient one.

Do not try to find me. Concern yourself only with Voldemort."

The letter was unsigned. Harry reeled in his chair and squashed the letter in his fist.

In his mind, he saw flashes of what must've taken place. Hermione struggled. She tried to hide in Hagrid's cabin but was found. A wand fight ensued...Hermione lost...The flame drock ashes...the jars had been labeled. They were used for either the man or Hermione. Hermione lost...She lost...Were they for her?

Harry gripped the sides of the small table fighting back wave after wave of panic. So it was Voldemort...What could be happening to 'Mione right now...

"Ron..." Harry could only croak out a whisper. His knuckles began to turn white from the death-like grip he had on the table.

"Ron..." Louder...no answer.

"Ron!" This time he yelled, not caring if Filch or anyone else were near at the moment.

He heard a scuffle and turned to see Ron rounding the corner quickly, an armload of books in his hands and a startled glare on his face.

"Harry, are you daft!?" he hissed, coming closer, "Be quiet or we've both had it..."

But as he approached Harry and saw the look of horror on his face, he quickly dropped the books on a nearby table and rushed to his side.

"What is it..."

Harry sat slumped in his seat and mutely handed Ron the crumpled note without bothering to look at him.

Ron smoothed it out and began to scan it. The more he read, the more ashen he became, until finally he took a seat beside Harry and stared into the darkness of the library.

"Where the bloody hell is Kavan..."

Harry's jaw had tightened so much that he felt like his teeth would break.

"It's past the Forbidden Forest apparently... but exactly where...we've got to find out." His voice had moved beyond panic and had now settled into the grim determination that Ron knew so well.

"Dumbledore would know," began Ron, "He knows all about Hogwarts' surrounding areas... It's a sure bet 'Mione's not too far away..."

"We can't go to Dumbledore," said Harry flatly. For the first time he let his gaze meet Ron's face.

Ron was taken aback. Harry always consulted Dumbledore if he could... Especially about anything like this.

"You can't be serious...Harry, we'll need help."

"You read the note. If we tell Dumbledore he won't let me go... at least not alone. And if I don't go alone, Hermione's dead." The last part came out in a strangled choke, but Harry struggled not to lose his resolve.

"Well then how..."

"I think it's time to get out the old Hogwarts: A History book again," said Harry evenly.

*************************************

The way back to the common room was precarious at best, as Harry and Ron kept running into one Hogwarts teacher or another, moving at a fast pace to secure whatever part of the school Dumbledore had assigned them to. Luckily, the invisibility cloak did its job, though they did have one particularly close call with Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris, who seemed to be able to see through the cloak. She turned her pink, lantern like eyes up to them. They froze as she tottered up to them, looking up and meowing insistently.

"Is someone there, my sweet?" Filch swiped long greasy hair from his forehead and came to stand directly in front of Ron and Harry.

They both held their breath as he squinted suspiciously in front of him but saw only wall.

He swiped one hand in front of him, and came so close to hitting Ron that it ruffled his hair. Harry saw him freeze with a trapped look on his face.

Filch, disappointed at Mrs. Norris, finally picked her up and moved back down the hallway. The cat's neon pink eyes never left Harry and Ron as they watched her bob out of sight in the caretaker's arms.

"Too close..." breathed Ron raggedly.

But Harry didn't feel relaxed or in the clear. If Dumbledore came around a corner and they were there, he knew the Headmaster would see right through the cloak. And as they had seen at least three teachers roaming the halls since they left the library, he knew that the meeting was over.

"Hurry..." was the only word that Harry hissed out to Ron.

They made their way much more quickly to the common room.

When they finally reached it and stepped inside, they noticed that most of Gryffindor had gone up to their rooms, probably to continue their conversations there as it was still relatively early in the evening.

Harry grabbed the crystal ball, parchment and quill from Ron and plopped down on the couch, immediately opening the incantation book they had taken and scanning it intensely. He could see why the book had been in the restricted section; most of the spells in the index had dangerous consequences if performed wrong.

"I'll go get the Hogwarts book," said Ron, making his way up to the boy's dorms, two steps at a time.

After much searching he finally found it and bounded back down the stairs. Harry was sitting on the edge of the couch, staring intently at one passage of the incantation book, obviously deep in thought.

Ron opened the Hogwarts history book and began scanning as well.

After an hour of intense and frustrating searching by both, and some unwanted interruption from well meaning Gryffindor's, Ron finally stabbed the final chapter of his book.

"Harry! I found it...Kavan..."

Quickly Harry dropped his book and scooted closer to Ron. Taking one half of the Hogwarts book in his hand, he read the passage out loud.

"...the darkest and most menacing area surrounding the school was long thought to be the Forbidden Forest, which stretched for some fifty miles directly outside of school grounds. But in 1959, the forest was broken into two sections. The first thirty miles being still known as the Forbidden Forest, with the last twenty much darker and dangerous miles now referred to as Kavan.

That fateful year on a dare, Stuart Kavan, a student from Hogwarts, entered the forest determined to go as far into it as he dared, spend the night, and re-emerge the next day.

Two days later, when the students from his house finally revealed the reason for his absence, a search party formed comprised of only the most powerful witches and wizards at the school.

A day later, they re-emerged, carrying only the boy's broom.

From then on, and only beknownst to the faculty of Hogwarts, the thirty miles in where the broom was discovered and beyond that were to be renamed 'Kavan', in memory of the student.

To this day, no trace of him has ever been recovered..."

"Wicked..." breathed out Ron as he and Harry tossed the book down, "Now I know why the final chapter of Hogwarts: A History was torn from all the copies in the library... Lucky for us Hermione got this at Flourish and Blotts before we got here."

"Lucky..." hissed out Harry, deep in thought.

Neither said anything else until Ron glanced over to Harry and saw the grim look plastered on his face, and the way his arms were crossed tightly across his chest.

Ron started slowly. "Well, now we know where Kavan is... but twenty miles is an awful lot of ground to cover..."

"You mean I know where Kavan is," said Harry quietly.

Ron breathed in angrily and sat up straighter, his fingers gripping the arm of the couch. Somehow he had known it would come to this...

"Harry, don't you dare think you're gonna fly in there playing the bleeding hero without me...I care just as much about Hermione as you do."

Harry sighed deeply and rose determinedly to his feet beginning to pace.

"It's not about that Ron; it's not your fight...Besides I have to go alone..."

"I don't care what the bloody hell that note says!" Ron shouted, standing up and striding over to Harry. "She's my friend too..."

"She's more than a friend to me!" Harry shouted back, "Besides that, if anyone else comes he'll KILL her!"

"I'll hide until you need me!" replied Ron furiously, "You'll need help; you can't do this on your own!"

A few of the students upstairs had crept down to see what the shouting was about, along with those who were still downstairs, and stared dumbly at them. Ron and Harry never fought this hard.

"Ron, we can't take the risk!" Harry bellowed angrily, inches from Ron's face, "You know Voldemort senses other people when they're around..."

A collective gasp went around the room at the mention of Voldemort's name. Most still feared it, and still referred to him as He-who-must-not-be-named.

"Then we'll find some way to sneak me out there with you!" Ron replied, "Some charm or something that hides my presence! I want to help you find her; we've always been a team..."

"I CAN'T RISK IT!" Harry sounded out the words and balled up his fists reflexively.

"Then how're you gonna find her!?"

Harry took a step back and tried to calm himself, and Ron. "I'm gonna find his servant first...I think he's still here...I can feel it..." He pressed a hand to his forehead and fingered his scar absently.

Ron set his jaw again, even more angrily than before, vaguely aware of the audience gaping at them from the stairs.

"There's no time to go searching for him too!" he began hotly.

"Yes there is...I found an incantation that might help. It won't take that long, and when I find him he can lead me directly to her..."

"Harry let's just go and get Voldemort!" (The audience flinched again) " He's the one that has her now! Forget about the servant..."

"The BLOODY HELL I will!" Harry roared, whirling around. The fury blazing in his eyes made Ron furious as well.

"WHY NOT!?"

"Because I LOVE HER!...and no one gets away with this..."

At this revelation, another collective gasp, louder this time, went around the room, causing Harry to blink rapidly. He finally noticed the crowd of faces staring at he and Ron. As he focused back on his friend, he saw the naked shock that rested on his ruddy features. Ron's jaw was working but he seemed not to be able to form any words.

Harry blinked again and shook his head, stumbling back a bit.

Finally, his fell back on the arm of one of the overstuffed chairs.

"Wh...what did I just say...What did I say...."

Ron stumbled back too, finding no words to speak to Harry at the moment.

I said I loved her, thought Harry. A blur of emotions began to swirl around in his head the moment he had uttered those words;...confusion, affection, fear, rage, but mostly a deep, glaring desperation.

No. Whoever had helped Voldemort by taking Hermione would answer to Harry too. And damn anyone who got in his way.

But Ron was not the enemy. He just cared for Hermione too, and wanted to help as he always had. He was part of the team, one part of a triangle that was now missing a very strong link.

Harry knew what it felt like to sit by and feel helpless to do anything, but he could do nothing about that even if he wanted to.

To take anyone else along was to risk Hermione's life, so Harry determined to himself to go alone... no matter what the cost.

He looked over to Ron to see that he had sat himself down rather heavily on the couch and was peering into the fire, a troubled expression playing on his face.

Harry joined him.

"Ron, I'm sorry...I have to go alone."

After a minute of intense silence, Ron finally nodded. Slowly he turned a deliberately steady look on Harry.

"You... You love her?"

Harry took a deep breath and roughly clawed his fingers through his hair, breathing out raggedly.

"Y...Yeah...I do, I...I guess I didn't really realize it until now."

Ron hesitated, and nodded, not taking his eyes from his best friend. He seemed to be searching Harry's face for the whole truth, but what he saw gave him no room for doubt. He swallowed roughly, unsure of his feelings about the situation. He knew he didn't feel that way about Hermione, of that he was certain. But the three of them were so tight that he feared what this new revelation might bring.

Quickly, he shoved the thought from his mind. No time for that now... They had to find, No... he swallowed... Harry had to find Hermione.

"Ok then. Show me the incantation you found."

Harry closed his eyes and nodded gratefully at Ron, glad to be finished fighting. He grabbed the book and turned to the middle, stabbing a page.

"It's right here. It's called the 'Unknown Charm'."

Ron looked puzzled as he scanned the page. "It's in Latin!"

"All spells are Ron," said Harry patiently. "Read it."

Ron frowned over the obvious fact, to him, that some things are made much more difficult than they had to be and read the spell out loud.

"Fluo fervens aqua eluvies crystallus orbis and inviso; nomen adeo fiendo aperio cunctus aenigma. Oh, here's what it means," he said running his finger down the paragraph, "Pour hot water over the crystal ball and see the name that will clear all mystery."

Harry grabbed the book from Ron and continued scanning the passage. "So it says all I have to do is hold the crystal ball under hot water, chant the spell, and ask it who Voldemort's man is."

Ron nodded slowly, obviously in thought and took time to write the spell on a piece of parchment.

"Ok then. Just go take a shower and take the crystal and your wand; and take this." He handed Harry the incantation.

Harry grabbed the paper and frowned at his friend. "I don't have time for a shower! I'm just gonna hold it under the tap..."

Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry, reminiscent of Hermione. "Kill two birds with one stone, Harry. You haven't showered since the match... It won't take any longer and you'll need to be refreshed to face Voldemort."

Harry opened his mouth to retort but Ron cut him off. "Just go...and if you don't come back I'll know you've already gone after him. Just be careful...he'll be dangerous too."

Harry could see how much it was costing Ron to stay back at the school and wait. He nodded gratefully to his friend and stood quickly, grabbing the crystal.

"Talk to everyone... Tell them not to mention this to any of the teachers or anyone else. They'll understand..." Harry took another look at Ron's suffering face. "I promise...I won't come back until I have her."

Ron closed his eyes briefly and swallowed, nodding heavily. "I know...Go."

Harry flew up the steps to his bed and grabbed a fresh change of clothes, and then quickly raced back down again. He grabbed his wand from Ron's outstretched hand and raced out of the portrait door, letting it slam shut behind him.

Ron sat in front of the fire, staring at the door. The only emotion running through him was pure, blinding fear.

*************************************************

Chapter 9

Harry ran as quickly as he could to the nearest boy's bathroom, not caring at that point whether Filch was around or not.`

He kept his wand handy in case anyone was foolish enough to try to stop him, having very few qualms about using it if necessary.

He had become quite a powerful young wizard in his six years of study, and besides that; facing danger as many times as Harry had did a lot toward making him stronger and more confident. He hoped no one got in his way.

He reached the bathrooms without incident and shoved his way inside, stripping as fast as possible and stepping into the shower.

He turned the knobs quickly, making the water as hot as he dared and soaped and rinsed his hair and body quickly.

When satisfied with himself, Harry reached over to the crystal ball in the corner of the shower and slid it over to the middle, letting the hot water cascade over it.

Grabbing the piece of parchment that he had lain on a dry, extending shelf in the corner, he held it closely to his face, a bit angry with himself for having glasses to have to take off during a shower.

He picked up his wand extending it towards the crystal and began to read the words slowly, enunciating each one.

"Fluo fervens aqua eluvies crystallus orbis inviso, nomen adeo fiendo aperio cunctus aenigma."

A streak of blue light shot from Harry's wand to the crystal globe and for a moment, the steam, water and globe were illuminated in an iridescent sapphire that started him a bit. Slowly the glow fell from the steam and water like rain and washed over the crystal; the ball seeming to absorb all of it.

Harry felt his stomach tie into knots. If this wasn't the correct spell then he had just wasted more of the precious time that Hermione had left.

Feeling his hand shake as he gripped his wand tighter, he continued pointing it towards the globe.

"Tell me the name of the person who took Hermione Granger."

Harry's eyes widened as the blue energy in the crystal immediately began to roil and swirl like dark thunder clouds. The globe began to bubble as well and to Harry's amazement, it seemed as if the crystal itself was beginning to boil, as if the heat from the massive amount of energy was melting it. The globe continued to boil and bubble with sapphire and then began to expand.

Suddenly it exploded, shattering shards of crystal all around the shower stall and simultaneously releasing the pent up energy in an upward blast of light.

Vaguely aware of the small nicks he had just acquired, Harry continued to watch the blue, as once again it began to fall back into the stall like drops of rain. But this time, the steam in the stall remained blue, and began to swirl, making almost psychedelic patterns.

Quickly, Harry realized that the steam was beginning to form letters and he watched anxiously, while letting the water wash the crystal shards from his body.

Finally the steamy letters came together to form two words: Dark Servant.

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration. "I know that, but who is he!?" he shouted.

As if on impulse he raised a hand and waved it in front of the steam, but instead of dissipating, the letters began to rearrange themselves.

The name that stared back at him made Harry feel limp with shock.

He supposed he would've been surprised with whatever name he saw, but he had actually met this person.

Immediately, one phrase that the man had repeated to him at least two or three different times played back in his head.

Good luck, Potter...We're anxious to see what kind of seeker you are.

"Not the snitch," thought a shocked Harry out loud, "Hermione...

He meant Hermione..."

Like a wild man Harry crashed open the shower stall door. Not bothering to dry himself, he threw on his clothes and grabbed his wand, racing out of the bathroom.

Filch caught him running, right as he stepped out and stepped in front of him, causing Harry to almost run into him.

"Hold it Potter! No one's allowed out to roam now! You know the rules..."

Not missing a beat, Harry had his wand out in one swift motion, extending it towards the caretakers gaping face, a mixture of anguish mixed with fury playing on his handsome features.

"MOVE or I’ll move you myself."

The boy looked out of control, and to Filch, utterly dangerous. Gaping at him, he stepped aside and watched the young man take off down the hallway.

Furious and shaken by the display, Filch resolved to himself to find Dumbledore and let him know about Potter's threat if it was the last thing he did.

*****************************************************

Harry raced down endless corridors, past his common room, Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and even past the Astronomy tower, into an area of Hogwarts he had rarely visited. This part of the school was usually reserved for visitors, to keep them from being too annoyed or distracted with the students, and vice versa.

His heart pounded loudly in his ears, and he continued running non-stop until he found what he was looking for; the guest quarters.

Luckily for him, whenever a guest stayed in a room his name was put on the door, for him as much as for the house elves and servants who came to clean and provide room service, if needed.

Harry found the name he desired and heard loud sounds coming from inside the room. Thumping, scraping, dragging; like someone was moving and rearranging boxes and trunks.

Not bothering to knock Harry tried the knob, and feeling it to be locked, he immediately extended his wand.

"Alohamora!"

The door clicked and he slammed it open, his wand out and ready. Immediately his scar began to burn. Not quite the white hot burning sensation that he had had yesterday morning, but a dull throbbing. Here was his answer... If he'd only been a little more concerned...

At the unexpected intrusion, the man inside the room dropped the trunk he had been moving and fell back a few steps, a look of surprise mixed with fear on his face. He saw Potter rub at his scar and winced. His cloaking spell was wearing off again... but he had convinced himself that it didn't matter now. After all, he had planned to be gone as soon as Dumbledore's meeting let out... If he'd only been a little quicker...

Harry scanned the room. The man's belongings had been packed away in a hurry. The one trunk that was still open contained robes and Dark Arts books, thrown haphazardly inside.

The room hadn't been put back properly, as if the guest had been planning to leave in quite a hurry. Harry's eyes fell on the man's wand sitting on the edge of the desk. He gritted his teeth furiously, his eyes blazing as he took in the form of the person who had taken Hermione. When he spoke his voice was low, and very dangerous.

"Going somewhere?..." Harry gestured towards the man's belongings pushed near the fireplace.

The look of raw intensity on the young man's face rooted the guest to the spot. He stood exactly as he had after he had dropped the trunk, not daring to move a muscle.

"H...Harry. Something I can do for you?"

Harry kicked the door shut, never taking his eyes from the man. He began to approach him slowly, keeping his voice low and even.

"You can take me to Hermione."

The servant's eyes widened. He'd been found out...

Panicking, he tried to dart around Harry, who had positioned himself in-between the servant and his wand, and made a wild grab for it.

Just as quickly, Harry threw himself at him, knocking him into the wall. As the man whipped around, Harry grabbed him by the throat and smashed his head back against the wall, his wand inches from the man's face.

"Don't even think about it!" he breathed wolfishly.

The man dared not to move, and took slow, wheezing puffs of air, his eyes darting from Harry's wand to Harry.

Harry cocked his head a bit to one side, piercing the man with a glare.

"You're gonna take me to Voldemort."

At the mention of that name, the servant's eyes widened and he began to tremble.

"You should already know where he is! It was in the note!"

"There's twenty miles of land to cover," Harry growled, "You can take me straight to him."

"I...I'm not going back there," the servant strained out. "I can't go back to him...I was going to escape...He has her now! I don't!"

Harry tightened his grip, causing the man to wheeze even more. "You ARE going back there... You're the reason for all of this!"

As Harry let the man go, but continued to hold his wand on him, the servant sagged against the wall, clutching his throat and sucking in ragged breaths. He looked at Harry with something resembling awe.

"Maybe the sorting hat was right... Maybe you should've been in Slytherin..." he whispered tightly.

Harry blinked hard. So the guy had been doing some research on him. He shook his head at the destructive thought that the servant had just revisited on his mind and shoved it quickly away.

Shifting his eyes towards the desk for a moment, he caught sight of the missing jar of flame drock ashes from Hagrid's hut. The jar was half empty.

Shaking with the thought that he might not like the answer to his next question, he plowed ahead.

"Who were those for? Did you hurt Hermione!? Because if you did I swear to..."

"They were for me!" the servant answered quickly, "Granger and I fought when she found me out...She ran to the old hut near the forest. W...we had a fight. She wounded me before I could subdue her...I found the ashes there."

Harry almost smiled in satisfaction. At least she had wounded the bloody git...

"P...Potter..." the man began slowly, "How did you find out it was me?"

Harry held his wand a little to the man's right and, pointing it to the wall behind him, he spoke clearly.

"Primus Compositio Rettuli."

The bolt of energy that erupted from Harry's wand blasted the wall behind the servant. He looked behind him to see the words 'dark servant' emblazoned in shimmering blue.

Slowly the letters began to rearrange themselves. The man was surprised at Harry's innovation as the name that Voldemort had cleverly given him in place of his own took shape on the wall.

Kard Starven.

No one could say that the dark lord didn't have his own twisted sense of humor, especially since the name sounded so much like his real one...

He turned back around to plead with Potter once more not to take him along, but quickly bit his tongue when he saw the look of utter hatred the young man shot his way.

Starven tried to affect a look of "I'm a victim too," but Harry would have none of it.

"Where's your broom..."

"I don't have one...I...traveled by floo powder..." It was partially the truth. His broom was still at the cabin where the dark lord had forced him to leave it.

"Then we'll grab one on the way," said Harry evenly, "Let's go."

Harry had always had ill luck with using the floo system. It might not be to his advantage to come tumbling out of whatever fireplace Voldemort had near him because it usually took a few minutes to recover... a few minutes that he wouldn't have. Besides that fact, he would have no control over Starven during the process. They would have to go one at the time, and Starven could choose to let himself out at any fireplace along the way.

It would be wiser to use brooms.

Instead of moving, Starven backed himself against the wall, shaking his head.

All Harry could think of at that moment was what a coward he had encountered.

The man joined Voldemort right under the Ministry's nose, vowed to lure Harry to Voldemort by taking someone close to him, and then didn't have the guts to follow through...

"Potter...Maybe you didn't hear me!" Starven began, "I'm not going back! By now Voldemort knows I don't plan to return... He might kill me!"

The statement hit Harry like a load of bricks. Of course... It was all there for him to see. He shook with anger and took a furious step towards Starven, his wand arm extended straight at him.

"You were supposed to lead me back, weren't you!?"

"N...No I...I can't now!"

"I didn't even have to go through all of this!" Harry hissed through his teeth, his eyes blazing like fire, "I could've already been there by now!"

"I'm not going back Potter... Not now... I can't go back... He'll kill me!"

"I'll kill you!" Harry shouted back at him, surprised at his own words, "You may have a chance with Voldemort but not with me... Now MOVE!"

Harry knew he would never kill Starven, but he certainly would hurt him if needed. He felt desperate, and more scared than he had ever been in his entire life. All the time that had already been wasted... and Starven was supposed to have led him back several hours ago... What if...what if Hermione was already... NO. He pushed the destructive thought from his mind. He would not think that way... He couldn't.

Starven looked at the young man in front of him only once more before moving. He looked deadly serious.

He began to ease past Harry, opening his door and walking out. Harry was barely a step behind, his wand pressed into Starven's back as they made their way down the winding hallways and towards the great double doors that led outside.

Surprisingly, they met no one along the way. As Harry and Starven pushed open the large double doors, Harry noticed that the temperature had dropped to just above freezing, and the sky was full of ominous clouds, threatening rain.

With a quick glance to make sure no one was around, he prodded Starven ahead with his wand towards the Quidditch field.

"Why are we headed this way?" asked Starven.

"We need brooms," replied Harry flatly, "There's plenty of extras in the locker room."

Starven nodded and let Harry push him in the right direction. When they reached the Quidditch lockers, Harry kept a close eye on Starven as he charmed the lockers open and pulled out two brooms.

One was his Firebolt 2004 that he had hastily left at Hagrid's earlier that night, and the other, a standard Shooting Star, which he thrust Starven's way.

Starven glanced at the broom and then at Harry with pleading eyes.

"Please Potter... I can tell you exactly where she is... Don't make me go with you. Voldemort has her now. I'm not even a part of this anymore!"

Harry set his jaw and scanned Starven's form with a look on his face that resembled someone who had just stepped in something putrid.

"You think that's all this is about!?" Harry shouted angrily, "You sealed your fate the day you joined Voldemort and you took Hermione. I'm not letting you go! Now mount up!"

Starven reluctantly mounted his broom and kicked off from the ground, watching as Harry stayed exactly one step behind him.

The wind whipped violently at their hair and robes as the two hovered near the Quidditch field, Harry's wand still pointed threateningly towards Starven.

"Don't even think of trying to outfly me," Harry yelled in warning over the howling wind, "I'll catch you. You know it."

Starven stared at the young man with his wand and took in the seriously dangerous look playing over his features. In that moment of clarity, he knew that all of the prophesies were true.

"You're not just going to destroy Voldemort, are you Harry," said Starven, his eyes tracing Harry's famous scar, half hidden by the whipping of his hair, "You're going to take out all of his followers as well, aren't you?"

Harry blinked, taken aback by Starven's bluntness. He didn't know what fate had in store for him... All he knew was that if he had the means to protect the ones he loved then he would use it. And if that meant destroying every last force of evil on the planet, if he was someday able, then so be it.

He gritted his teeth, angered at letting Starven catch him off guard.

"Just fly."

Starven nodded, and giving Harry one more glance of awe mixed with fear, he dipped his broom downward and he and Harry flew down and into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest.

*********************************************

Chapter 10

Hermione opened painful eyes to discover that she was still in a heap in the corner of the room.

Voldemort was still seated in his padded chair, warming himself by the glow of the eerie red fire, his python Nagini curled up nearby.

As she lay there, quietly surveying her surroundings again for a chance at escape, her mind began to play out scenario after scenario of how this would end.

She still hoped that Harry would stay away and let Dumbledore know of the situation, letting him take care of it, but she also knew that he wouldn't. The thought of him facing Voldemort made her shudder.

Since Harry was probably traveling by broom, she imagined that it might be some time before he arrived. If she could escape before he got there, she could save him from having to fight the dark lord. But how?

Again her eyes scanned the room for her wand. Surely Voldemort had hidden it away or destroyed it by now; unless he was cocky enough to not believe her capable of facing him.

She might well not be capable, thought Hermione to herself. She knew that she could never come away from the Avada Kedavra curse with only a scar like Harry had. But she had to try, if only to save Harry. Just the thought of possibly watching him suffer, or even die was almost too much for her to handle.

She turned her head slightly to glance at Voldemort and the python again, and pulling out of her silent reverie, she began to catch snatches of their conversation.

"Patience Nagini," Voldemort hissed to the snake in English, "Potter will be here soon enough... and then I'll allow you to have the girl...I'll even kill her for you first."

The snake must have replied with something like "Why can't I have her now," because Voldemort continued with "You know why. I want Potter to see her die." He chuckled cruelly and glanced Hermione's way. She shut her eyes quickly.

"When Potter sees Granger die right before his eyes, all the fire, all of the resistance will turn to complete despair... And that's when I'll have him."

Hermione could imagine Voldemort's grim face with a smile on it. She shuddered to think of herself as Nagini's dinner, but even worse to think of Harry, so brave and strong, giving up in a cry of hopelessness. She couldn't allow that. She wouldn't if it was the last thing she ever did, and it might very well be. She squeezed her eyes shut over the terror that had begun to grip her and willed it away.

She had to be strong for Harry... and she had to escape...Now.

Deciding to wait no longer, Hermione settled on a solution. She would summon her wand and fight Voldemort herself. Harry would not be put in danger because of her.

She had never used the summoning charm herself, she'd only helped Harry learn it. And it usually worked better when you knew where the desired object was so that you could envision it. But she had to try. With her wand, at least she had a chance.

As quietly and slowly as possible, Hermione extended her hand, hoping upon hope that wherever her wand was, it wouldn't have to float past Voldemort's face to get to her.

"Accio Scipio."

She barely whispered the spell and stretching out with her hand and her mind, she focused on willing the wand to come.

As Voldemort reclined by the fire, listening and feeling for anyone approaching, he didn't notice as Hermione's wand began to slip out of his right pocket.

She could see the tip emerging and focused all of her energy on sliding it out smoothly. Secretly, she cursed the dark lord for placing it in the right side of his cloak. She was on the left side of the room, which meant that the wand would have to pass around him without him noticing.

The wand was out of the pocket and floating freely now at about his waist level. All Voldemort had to do was glance down and Hermione was done for.

She watched the wand advance towards her slowly, rocking a little mid-flight as it came and squeezed her eyes shut, focusing solely on keeping it steady.

Suddenly, Nagini opened one eye, and then both and hissed wildly, simultaneously striking out towards the wand.

Hermione noticed Voldemort jump, startled, and look down.

Now, Hermione...NOW!

Voldemort's glowing red eyes widened as Nagini recoiled to strike again and he saw the floating wand, moving faster now towards Hermione's outstretched hand.

She stood on shaky legs, knowing that she'd been discovered and stretched out with both hands, focusing her remaining strength and energy in only one direction.

Voldemort hissed angrily, and with a violent leap, grabbed for the wand but it sped past him and landed in Hermione's hands.

She broke contact with the spell and immediately aimed.

"Propulso Pettitio!"

The spell hurled Voldemort backwards and he crashed into the wall behind him.

Hermione leapt from the corner, barely escaping the snap of Nagini's large jaws and sped towards the door as fast as her injured knee would allow, grabbing the broom leaning beside the bookshelf.

She flung the door open right as Voldemort righted himself and with a flick of his wrist, sent his own wand sliding from his sleeve into his hand.

The blast that ensued blew apart the door jamb beside her as Hermione rushed outside, mounting the broom.

It was pitch black out and cold. A lashing freezing rain had just begun, and it soaked Hermione's hair and robe as she kicked off from the ground. Her mind was screaming at her wildly to take off, but it wasn't as quick for her as it was for Harry and Ron, as she never liked broom flight much. At this moment, she cursed herself for it.

As soon as she began to float up and soar away, she heard Voldemort's furious voice, screeching into the night.

"Epara Ivanesca!"

The red bolt of energy blew the broom under her to pieces and scorched her thigh. She fell about six feet to the ground and rolled to a stop. Even then she picked herself up and began to run as quickly as her bruised body would allow, aware that Voldemort was catching up. Her heart was racing violently, and she felt terrified tears streaming down her face.

Spurred on by the sudden burst of angry energy, Voldemort glided very quickly after her and finally grabbed her arm, yanking her backwards.

He was inches from her face. "You will NOT ruin this for me!" He screeched in an unearthly tone.

She struggled in his painful grasp as he yanked and tugged her back to the cabin and threw her inside, shoving her back toward the little corner that had become her cell.

She had failed. She had failed Harry...

"Nagini! Stand guard!" screamed Voldemort.

The snake complied by slithering over near Hermione and uncoiling his long body around her like a line that she dare not cross.

Hermione recoiled from the snake. She was in pain, wet, and freezing, but she would NOT give in. She glared up at Voldemort defiantly, swiping the wet hair from her face.

"You will NOT WIN!"

Voldemort whirled on her and extended his arm.

"Crucio!"

The dark curse engulfed her in a torrent of pain unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her life. She screamed uncontrollably, her muscles spasming as wave after wave of agony swept her entire body.

Try as she might, she couldn't keep herself from letting unconsciousness engulf her once again.

Voldemort ground his teeth and his eyes narrowed. "Come on Potter..."

**********************************************

Harry swiped the freezing rain away from his face, knowing that it would continue to lash him. He silently thanked Hermione for the Impervius charm she had shown him during third year that kept rain from hitting his glasses. It was the only thing that was helping him to see now.

The rain was falling harder now, and since he and Starven were flying at top speed through the forest, each drop stung like a piece of sharp glass.

They had been flying for at least half an hour with no end yet in sight. Harry was just beginning to wonder rather angrily if Starven was deliberately leading them the wrong way when he heard a terrifying scream that cut through him like a blade.

Even Starven slowed, a look of horror playing over his features.

Harry's eyes widened and he felt his stomach churn wildly. When he spoke it was more of a breath.

"Hermione..."

He flew up beside Starven and grabbed his arm.

"How close are we!?"

Starven glanced from Potter's stricken face to the woods in front of them.

"If you squint, you can just make out the cabin there." He pointed in the direction of a very faint glowing red light in the near distance.

"Go...MOVE," demanded Harry.

Both continued at top speed again. Harry willed himself not to blink and stared at the approaching red light as if he could get himself there quicker by sheer force of will.

As the cabin came into focus, Harry brought himself up short in front of the door and threw himself off of his broom, out of breath from sheer terror.

Breathing open mouthed, he motioned with his wand for Starven to do the same.

He grabbed the servant's arm and thrust him in front, pointing his wand over the shorter man's shoulder.

"Aronium Exeme!"

The door exploded in a blast of blue light.

Harry shoved Starven in ahead of him and entered the cabin, his eyes frantically searching the large room.

No Voldemort.

But his gaze did fall on a heap in the far right corner, surrounded by a dark red robe bearing the Gryffindor crest. Voldemort's python, Nagini, was curled protectively around its prey.

An anguished sob escaped Harry's lips as he rushed forward and pointed his wand to the right of the python.

"Serpent Sortia!"

Another python emerged from Harry's wand and slid to the floor with a small thud.

Nagini's small eyes locked with it, and with an angry hiss, he slithered after it to do battle of his own.

As soon as Nagini had moved, Harry threw himself to his knees beside Hermione and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his lap.

Gently he cradled her in his arms and wiped the wet hair from her face.

With a gasp, he noticed the large cut on her forehead, now crusted over with dried blood and cuts and bruises of various sizes on her arms and legs. Her school clothes were covered in what appeared to be ash from a blast.

Harry cradled her closer. Silent tears slipped down his face as he touched his face to her own and pressed one of her hands to his lips. He rocked her back and forth gently.

"'Mione...please wake up...Please don't go..."

An overwhelming panic gripped Harry from all sides. It tightened his chest muscles and he had to fight to continue breathing.

He kissed Hermione softly and pressed a shaking hand to her cheek. She felt so cold.

"Please wake up love...Please..."

"Too late for that Harry."

A dark form glided into the room, wand out. He cackled in a high-pitched voice that made the hairs on Harry's neck stand.

He whipped out his wand, one arm still curled protectively around Hermione.

Voldemort glided closer. Harry lowered his head, fixing him with a glare that would have been extremely dangerous, except that his voice betrayed too much emotion.

"What did you do..."

Voldemort grinned. Potter was already coming apart... exactly how he'd planned. Everyone had their weaknesses.

"She's already dead," laughed Voldemort cruelly, "If you'd only come a little sooner..."

Harry fought back a scream that came out as a strangled sob far in the back of his throat and clutched Hermione tightly to him, rocking.

Starven, watching the encounter from the relative safety of a dark corner also bit back a cry of horror. Not because he was sad for Granger, but because he feared that he was next. He really wasn't cut out for this, he thought to himself. He wanted to run but terror had robbed him of any movement. Besides, it would be easy for Voldemort to catch him. His only hope was if Voldemort would forgive him... or if he somehow didn't know of Starven's intention to run.

Harry looked despairingly back down at the limp form cradled in his lap and saw a faint glow coming from the front pocket of Hermione's robe.

Quickly he reached in and pulled out the necklace he had given her. The chain was broken and scorched, but the red heart glowed a faint ruby. He shuddered a relieved sigh.

A small smile playing on his lips, Harry carefully laid Hermione back down and placed the necklace back inside her pocket.

Slowly he stood and extended his wand toward Voldemort, a masterful smile playing on his features.

"If the pendant's still glowing, she's still alive. It wouldn't work if she wasn't."

Voldemort's smile faltered. Strike one. Damn Potter and that necklace. But there was still the duel.

Both Harry and Voldemort assumed their fighting stances. Voldemort nodded to his enemy, keeping his eyes fastened to him.

"All right then Potter...it begins. But first things first..."

Voldemort whipped around and aimed his wand at Starven.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Immediately Starven dropped, his eyes open. He was killed so quickly that the look of shock died with him.

The dark lord showed absolutely no remorse and turned back to Potter, resuming his duel stance once more.

Harry's insides twisted sickly and he faltered in surprise, but kept his guard up. He glanced wide-eyed from Starven's body to Voldemort and shook his head to clear it, making certain to keep his gaze directed on Voldemort. It wouldn't do to get distracted.

Voldemort gave him a curiously odd look and grinned. "You still haven't figured it out yet, have you?"

Harry snorted derisively. "What's there to figure out? You think you're that complex?"

"Not me, Potter..." snarled Voldemort, "Hasn't it crossed your mind to wonder who Starven really is?"

Harry and Voldemort still circled each other, both keenly aware of the other's movements. Harry frowned. What was Voldemort trying to do? He wasn't stupid. He wouldn't get distracted...

"Why should I care..."

Voldemort shook his head at Potter almost as if scolding a child. "Ah Potter...because of the power I wield. To think...that all this time, he stayed loyal to me...only to lose his life in the end. Pity. But then again, he was weak...too afraid of his own mortality...I have no need of weaklings. But you’re not a weakling, are you Harry? All of this can be avoided if you’d simply join me. Together, we’d have all the power we’ve ever dreamed of..."

Harry shook his head at Voldemort and almost flippantly growled out a reply. "SAVE IT! You killed my parents and you hurt Hermione! I wouldn’t join you if my life depended on it! Whoever Starven was, I don’t feel anything for him...sorrow or curiosity. "

"You should," stated Voldemort, angry at Harry’s flippant response, "If I can get a strong, level-headed, well-taught Slytherin like Stuart to join me, imagine the possibilities..."

At this statement, Harry almost faltered and his mind began to work overtime. Stuart? Who had Starven been? A Slytherin...from Hogwarts...

Wait...it couldn’t be...

"Kard Starven," Harry whispered to himself, "K.S...The initials were reversed...Stuart Kavan!?"

Voldemort gave Harry a small round of sarcastic applause. "Very good, Potter...I’d almost lost faith in you. Yes, it was Kavan. He’s been with me almost since the beginning. Why do I tell you this? To make you understand how many others there are out there. Do you think if you defeat me, it’s all over? Harry, how naïve you are. I have many followers...Not the least of those you already know and have leaked to Dumbledore since our last meeting...Ah yes. If you ever do succeed in killing me, know this... There will always be another to take my place. "

Harry simply smiled wolfishly in reply. "One at a time."

Voldemort, slightly taken aback by Harry’s fearless reply, answered the taunt with a thoughtful cock of his head, and directed his gaze towards Starven’s lifeless body. "Very well Harry...But as you see, no one crosses me and lives for long. I could feel my servant wished to leave me, so I eliminated him. Pity that curse won’t work on you; it would be over so quickly. But then again, where would be the sport in that?"

"I thought you wanted me dead for reasons other than sport," Harry replied evenly.

Voldemort smiled evilly and raised his wand threateningly at Potter, to which Harry replied in kind. "I think I’ve earned the right to it...Potter...my greatest enemy. I want us to face each other properly...This way, a victory is truly a victory."

Harry set his jaw and nodded curtly, an intense fire glowing in his eyes.

It began.

"Letalis Advertum!"

The blue energy from Harry's wand picked up various objects around the room and whirled them in the air in a mass of confusion.

Both arms in the air, palms out, Harry magically shoved the items at Voldemort, pelting him with each one.

Only momentarily taken aback, Voldemort raised his wand.

"Ferio Circumvolo!"

A wooden crate from the back of the room flew towards Harry, and managed to strike him on the head before he could duck, smashing into the wall.

Harry felt the blood drip down his temple and winced, swiping at it quickly.

Voldemort raised his wand towards Hermione, determined to finish her off, one way or the other in Harry's presence.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!"

Harry threw himself in front of Hermione just in time to deflect the blast.

"Reviso!"

His wand caught the whole of the curse and blue energy on red, he forced the curse back with all of his might.

A large purple bolt of energy struck Voldemort hard enough to send him crashing into the wall some five feet behind him.

Harry jumped up and whirled towards Hermione, wand out.

"Occaceo Saeptum!"

Immediately a shimmery bubble of transparent blue energy formed over Hermione's body, shielding her from the next blast. It whizzed past Harry, ruffling his hair and exploded behind him at Hermione.

The shield seemed to absorb the blast and make itself stronger.

Both Harry and Voldemort breathing heavily, circled each other once again.

"Clever," said Voldemort.

Harry nodded once defiantly, holding his enemy in an intense glare.

"I'm full of surprises."

Voldemort sneered at the boy. "She's still going to die, you know...One way or the other...I'll get her before we're finished."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so."

A roar of fury exploded from the dark lord.

"Compella Deturbo!"

Harry caught it with his wand, but almost wasn't prepared for the force of fury that came with it.

The curse slammed him against the wall beside Hermione, but he held fast with his wand. Finally he pushed out with a mighty heave.

"Propulso!"

Voldemort caught the returning energy with his wand and easily deflected it to the floor beside him.

Nagini, who had been unluckily near, almost caught the blast as it landed beside him.

He hissed loudly and recoiled, slithering to a different section of the room.

Harry noted with interest that Nagini was considerably fatter. He'd made a meal out of the second snake.

He raised his wand and struck Voldemort hard.

"Infligo Ascerbitus!"

The blow glanced Voldemort's arm as he attempted to dodge it; a white hot surge of pain traveling up and down the limb.

His hideous face twisted in an attempt to control it. He breathed raggedly, clutching the temporarily useless limb.

"Ruthless, Potter...Starven said you had become quite powerful but I must say I wasn't quite prepared. However..."

"Ferio Offendo!"

Voldemort landed a real blow this time, a force like a sledge hammer to the chest.

The red energy threw Harry across the room and smashed him into a wall. His wand landed a few yards away.

He sagged to the floor and held his chest, coughing and trying to draw a breath, and looked towards his left. Hermione was beginning to come around.

She blinked rapidly and sat up on her elbows trying to clear her head.

Harry lay on the floor, willing her to look over and see him.

Voldemort was gliding closer now; a look of smugness on his features, wand extended.

"'Mione," Harry croaked out, and then began coughing uncontrollably.

Hermione blinked again and turned her head. There she saw Harry, illuminated by the red glow from the fire, laying on the floor gasping to breathe.

She drew in a sharp breath and a sobbing noise escaped her lips.

"Harry!"

She began to crawl to him but was thrown back by the energy field surrounding her.

She realized quickly that Harry must have summoned it to protect her and watched helplessly as the curse began to drain Harry of his strength.

"Harry NO! Fight it! Fight it!"

He let his head fall back to the floor and grabbed a lung full of air raggedly.

"Get UP, Harry! Fight!"

Hermione pleaded with him desperately, clawing at the field around her and choking back sobs.

"Harry don't do this! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me!"

Harry blinked at her and rolled to his side, pulling himself painfully into a sitting position against the wall.

Voldemort stood over him with an expression of triumph and saw Potter look up at him with weakened eyes.

"So this is how it ends," began Voldemort, smiling cruelly. "The downfall of the boy-who-lived ends with him on his knees before me.... Fitting, don't you think?"

Voldemort smiled and lowered his wand to Harry's face.

Hermione screamed in agony, still unable to break free of the protective charm Harry had conjured, although it had weakened considerably. Almost... almost...

"HARRY NO! DO SOMETHING! HARRY, LISTEN TO ME!"

"Fear not Granger!" yelled Voldemort in mock sympathy, "You'll be joining him soon..."

At that moment, Harry shoved himself from the wall and crashed into Voldemort, knocking him to the ground and sending the dark lord's wand flying across the room.

As he was stunned momentarily, Harry took the opportunity to land two vicious blows to his face that left him reeling before he regained his faculties and began to fight back. He punched Harry back with a mighty blow and picked himself up with some difficulty.

Immediately Harry sent a roundhouse kick to the back of Voldemort's knees, pitching him forward to the floor once more. Scrambling to him, Harry began thrashing him with wild blows to his head and stomach.

Finally Voldemort was able to land a particularly hard punch to one of Harry's kidneys, sending him back to the floor.

"Accio Scipio!"

He summoned his wand and it flew across the room into his outstretched hand.

Harry scrambled up from the floor, clutching his side and was mid-stride to meet Voldemort again when he found the dark lord's wand inches from his face.

He straightened reflexively and head up, backed away a bit.

No one noticed the force field around Hermione. She was almost free...

Voldemort was still doubled over from the heavy blows he had received, but still had enough power to use his wand.

"Crucio!" A bit of suffering before the final blow...

Harry twisted at the last moment and only caught a bit of the curse, but it was still enough to make him fall back against the wall, clutching himself in agony.

Voldemort raised his wand for the death blow...

But at that moment, Hermione flew across the room, finally free of the force field and threw herself onto Voldemort's back with all of her might, punching and kicking wherever she could, and landing a few well placed blows in the process.

Voldemort was able to shrug her off with a mighty heave that sent her flying back against the wall near Harry.

She crashed into it and slid down beside him, half conscious.

Harry screamed wildly and clutched her to him.

Voldemort saw that his curse had gone wild when Hermione had attacked him and had scorched the wall above Harry, leaving a long blackened gouge in the wood. Harry had taken that moment and scrambled to get his wand.

Screaming with fury, he raised his wand again determined to finish both off with the same final curse. It took a little longer than the Avada Kedavra to finish the victim off, but it worked nonetheless. There was just a little more suffering involved.

Harry held Hermione protectively to him and raised his wand simultaneously.

"PESTUS CONLABOR!" bellowed Voldemort.

"RETROACTUS!"

The energy of the two wands of equal strength met in mid air, turning the red from Voldemort's wand and the blue from Harry's into a thick arced beam of golden purple that sizzled and crackled electrically in the air.

Harry held his wand with both hands, feeling the vibration of power that threatened to shake his whole body. He recalled being in this same position the night that Voldemort had recovered his body... the night that Cedric Diggory had died.

He knew that if he kept pushing hard enough and didn't break the connection, the energy from both wands being forced back into Voldemort's would cause the echo of his most recent curses to emerge.

Harry had no wish to see Starven crawl out of the dark lord's wand, but had no choice but to hold on. If he let go, Voldemort would push the death curse back towards them.

Instinctively, he shifted Hermione's body closer to him on his lap and gripped his wand tighter.

A thin sheen of sweat stood out on his face and he ground his teeth even tighter, his arms aching from the tremendous force.

Voldemort was equally determined; the energy from the wands vibrating his whole frame.

Harry knew something had to be done. Neither could hold the curse forever.

When the energy from Harry's wand crossed the halfway point sufficiently enough that he had more power on his side than Voldemort's, he began to pull up on his wand, ignoring the shooting pain in his biceps.

Voldemort's red eyes widened as he felt his wand being pulled from him.

He tightened his grasp, screaming in fury, but Harry held fast and gave a sharp yank upwards.

The purple-gold cord of energy dissipated with a loud snap and Voldemort's wand, still caught in a blue bolt of energy, sailed back into Harry's hand.

Harry slid Hermione to the floor quickly. Holding out his wand toward Voldemort, he eased his way to one of the pillars near the door and gave the dark lord a wicked smile, holding the other wand out and to his side.

Voldemort's face twisted in anger as he realized what Potter was about to do. He screamed furiously. "NO!"

Harry turned to the pillar and threw his arm in a wide circle, smashing the dark lord's wand against it.

When the wand splintered apart, the explosion of red energy that left it dispelled upward and blew a hole through the roof. Freezing rain began to pour into the cabin.

Harry tossed the useless wand aside and extended his wand at Voldemort once more, a dangerous smile on his face.

Shaking with fury, Voldemort glared at Harry and then gave him a masterfully mocking bow.

"Well then... You've won Potter... Go ahead and do it."

The smile on Harry's face faltered. He knew he had the power now to kill Voldemort, but it would take one of the unforgivable curses to do it. Dumbledore had always taught them that to use the dark arts would make you more susceptible to turning evil yourself.

But if he didn't rid himself of Voldemort, the dark lord would continue to seek him out for the rest of his life.

Harry shook his head defiantly. That's just what Voldemort would want. If he couldn't kill Harry himself, he would love no more than to turn him towards the dark arts that he hated so much.

Harry smiled again. The solution had come to him.

"Exigo Contero!"

The spell hit the dark lord directly in the chest. He felt himself lifted in the air and then slammed back down to the ground.

Something was happening to his body. He began convulsing, and blue rays of energy began to break open from his face, chest and hands, shooting beams of sapphire towards the ceiling.

Voldemort sat up and scanned himself, finally fixing Harry with a look of horror.

Potter had taken his body again. He would be less than alive, forced to live off of other souls, or to drink unicorn blood to stay alive.

Harry strode over to Hermione and picked her up, carrying her towards where the door had once been. The rain was falling so hard now that it blew in from outside, pelting the two.

Harry tucked Hermione's robe around her as snugly as he could and began to walk out.

Voldemort stood shakily, staggering towards him, one flesh eaten hand making a grabbing motion; one last pitiful attempt to control him.

"I'll KILL you Potter! You'll never be safe! You're friends will never be safe! You'll always look over your shoulder and wonder, do you hear me!?"

Harry turned a bit and favored Voldemort with a sideways glare, breathing raggedly.

He knew part of what Voldemort said was true, but he could not use the dark arts to kill him.

He shifted Hermione's weight in his arms and allowed her head to fall onto his shoulder.

Voldemort fell in front of them, his arm still reaching out to make one final grab.

Finally, the skeletal body gave one final shudder, and seemed to implode in a burst of blue. The body was reduced to ashes.

The half-life that Voldemort had left flew out of the ashes in an unearthly screech and flew up through the hole in the roof, disappearing into the rainy darkness.

Harry stood for a moment, exhausted, and let his head lie on top of Hermione's, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

He noticed the faint glow of red still wavering steadily in her pocket and kissed her forehead gently.

Walking outside in the rain, he found his and Starven's brooms gleaming wetly in the moonlight.

"Up."

The Firebolt rose slowly and Harry straddled it, shifting Hermione's weight once more and holding her securely.

As quickly as the broom could, it carried the two on the long journey back to Hogwarts.

*****************************************

Chapter 11

It was dark and supernaturally warm. Hermione opened her eyes to see the long form of Nagini, bathed in the red glow from the fire. He turned his diamond shaped head to her and grinned wide-jawed, his large deadly fangs dripping with venom.

He suddenly grew as large as a basilisk and his huge head took up her entire line of vision.

He reared back and opened his jaws wide and Hermione recoiled, seeing only the large pink mouth, forked tongue, and enormous fangs.

He lunged at her, she fell back and screamed...

Suddenly the picture changed. She was still in the same cabin, but the danger had somehow shifted from herself. She was now surrounded by Harry's force field again, and this time it was more than two feet thick...completely impenetrable.

Hermione pressed her hands to it and caught sight of two figures from the corner of her eye.

She turned and saw Harry and Voldemort, circling each other. Harry was badly injured and looked on the verge of collapse, and Voldemort was taunting him.

"That's right Harry... If Granger hadn't let herself be taken, you would be safe right now...back at Hogwarts with your friends...under Dumbledore's protection..."

Voldemort’s wand released a small bolt of red energy, striking Harry in the chest. Not enough to harm him permanently, but enough to make him suffer.

Harry cried out for a moment but tried to stay strong. He tried to retaliate, but his wand wouldn't respond. He threw it to the side angrily and held his hands up in an attack stance.

"That's not true... She tried to fight back...You killed her!"

Hermione realized with a sinking horror that Harry thought she was dead.

"Harry, I'm here! Don't give up! I'm still here..."

She banged and clawed at the force field, but even her voice couldn't penetrate... and Harry wasn't looking.

"Harry!"

"She's the reason you're here, Potter... The reason you're going to die..."

Another red bolt zapped Harry in the arm. Harry fell back and clutched his arm, hissing through his teeth in pain.

"Harry! No...I'm sorry! Please..." yelled Hermione.

"Liar..." Harry growled to Voldemort, lunging at him. The dark lord side-stepped him easily, letting him fall to the floor.

Harry tried to get back up but Voldemort shot an even more painful bolt to both of Harry's legs, and his knees buckled, sending him to the floor, once more.

He tried again to stand, but his legs were useless.

Finally facing Hermione's way, he caught sight of her in the corner, surrounded by the transparent blue. His eyes widened.

"She never cared about you, Potter..."

"No Harry! I tried to fight; I tried to get away! Please..."

"She was willing to let you come here; to fight me..."

"Shut up!" screamed Harry, but he looked over to Hermione with a betrayed look in his eyes.

"She could've gotten away...In a way, she must've wanted you to have to face me...

"Harry, that's NOT TRUE! I'd never willingly put you in danger..."

But then, Harry shook his head. He looked hopeless and resigned.

"He's right..."

"NO! He's lying..."

"You never really cared about me... No one ever has..."

"I LOVE YOU!" Hermione clawed at the force field and made her fingers bleed. She began sobbing frantically.

"I don't have anything left to live for..." said Harry in an almost surprised voice.

"Harry, NO! HARRY!"

Suddenly Harry rose to his knees and threw out his arms, his head back.

Voldemort grinned. "I thought so... Goodbye Potter..."

"No..." Hermione breathed raggedly.

"PESTIS CONLABOR!"

The curse hit Harry hard in the chest and he crumpled to the floor, twitching in the last throes of death.

"HARRY!" screamed Hermione desperately.

No answer.

"HARRY!!"

Hermione bolted upright in the dim room, completely unaware of her surroundings.

"Miss Granger...it's all right...calm down now."

She heard a familiar gravelly voice. She looked around wildly to see Headmaster Dumbledore on her left, holding her hand and Ron to the right, staring at her wildly with heavy lids and heavily glazed eyes as if he'd just been abruptly awakened.

"'Mione...wh...whudizit...what...You're awake!"

Ron sat bolt upright in his chair, grabbing her other hand.

"Are you all right!? How'd you feel!?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to gather her senses about her.

"Ron! Professor Dumbled... Where's Harry!? Where is he!?"

Hermione looked terrified and tried to crawl out of her bed, but both Dumbledore and Ron restrained her.

"He's all right Miss Granger... He's all right. See for yourself..."

Dumbledore shifted a little in his seat and Hermione peered past him to the bed on her left.

There lay Harry, in a black tee shirt and flannel pajama pants. He was sprawled out unevenly, twisted in the bed covers, one arm bent under his head, the other dangling over the side of the bed.

His mouth was open and he was muttering somewhat; his head turning from side to side every now and then.

Hermione caught a few phrases like "Don't touch her..." and some mutterings of wand curses.

She closed her eyes briefly, letting a ragged sigh escape her lips. It had been a dream...he was ok...

"'Mione, are you ok? Answer me!"

Hermione turned to look at Ron. He had a frantic look about his face; dark circles under his eyes. His hair stood up in odd places all over his head. He looked almost as bad as Harry and she must look at the moment. She squeezed his hand and mustered a small smile.

"I'm ok, Ron...just a bit sore."

Ron finally nodded, but still clutched her hand as if afraid to let go.

He slumped back in his seat and rubbed his forehead. Hermione favored him with an affectionate smile, but then turned to Dumbledore.

"Why is Harry still sleeping...Are you sure he's all right?"

Dumbledore patted the air patiently. "He's all right Hermione...He's just exhausted. Madame Pomfrey gave him a sleeping draught. Unfortunately, it was the only bottle that she had left, and not powerful enough to give him a dreamless sleep."

"No! 'Mione stay back..." Harry thrashed in his bed once and turned on his side, throwing an arm over his head.

Dumbledore sighed and turned back towards Hermione. "I think we should talk now before he awakens. Harry informed us of everything that happened. Apparently you were unconscious for most of it."

Hermione nodded, not taking her eyes from his sleeping form. "I don't remember much about the fight... Only what happened before then. I came to once or twice while Voldemort and Harry fought...I think...I hope I helped some." She shuddered at the memory of Voldemort's hideous face, and the huge python that had watched her so intently. "Professor...is...is Voldemort dead?"

Dumbledore shook his head, his eyes closed. "No. He's still alive, although he no longer has his body. Harry made sure of that..."

Dumbledore paused thinking of the right way to phrase his next words.

"In order for Harry to kill Voldemort, he would need to use a dark curse, for as you know, a killing spell is a dark arts curse. The user needs to be extremely careful... it's not something to be taken lightly. As I've told you all, the use of the dark arts makes the user more susceptible to the allure of them... It would be difficult for even a fully trained wizard to use a killing curse without feeling its draw... Harry understood this, and he acted in the only way he could... for now. Unfortunately that means that the dark lord is still alive, and still a danger, no matter what his state."

Hermione swallowed, trying to absorb all of the information. "What about Starven? He's the one that took me... He's in league with Voldemort..."

"Dead," said Ron.

Hermione whirled to look at him.

"Voldemort killed him... Seems Starven, uh, rather Kavan, had wanted to run, but Harry made him lead him to you... I guess Voldemort knew he was trying to leave."

"Kavan!? Is that Starven’s real name!?" Where had she heard that name before? There were too many questions...Hermione clenched her fists so hard that the fingernails dug into her palms. Both she and Harry had come so close to death themselves...

"No worries now, Hermione," said Dumbledore in a soothing voice "Both you and Harry are fine...He should awaken at any time now."

Hermione turned her head quickly to gaze out the window at the clear night.

"Professor, shouldn't he sleep longer? He needs it..."

Dumbledore smiled affectionately at Hermione and patted her hand. "My dear, you've been asleep for three days."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Three days!?"

Ron sat up and nodded numbly, wiping his tired eyes.

Dumbledore turned towards Ron and affected a stern expression. "And now Ronald, I fulfilled my part of the bargain; Miss Granger is awake. It's time for you to get some rest of your own."

Ron straightened quickly and protested.

"Professor, can't I just stay until Harry wakes up? Like you said it shouldn't be too long..."

"I estimated at that Mr. Weasley," replied Dumbledore sternly, but not without a kind smile, "We're not sure quite how long it will take, and I've let you sleep in here for two nights already... Go off to bed."

Ron sighed and stood, stretching his sore muscles. He gazed at Hermione, smiling.

"I'm so glad you're both back here safely...I was so worried."

Hermione smiled at him and pulled his hand down so that she could peck him on the cheek.

She felt a lump rising in her throat that kept her from speaking. Tears began to well in her eyes.

Ron took one look and took a step back, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Well, that's my cue!...'Mione please don't cry...I can't stand it! I never know what to do..."

Hermione rolled her watery eyes at him and slapped her hand down. "Ron, you great prat! I swear..."

"That's me," he replied lightly, smirking a bit, but then smiled genuinely. "I'll see you two soon."

He left, clicking the door shut gently behind him. Hermione turned her attention back to Dumbledore, who was gazing at Harry with something bordering on...respect?

She opened her mouth to question him but at that moment Madame Pomfrey strode in, her arms full of flowers, candy and cards.

She almost dropped them when she saw Hermione sitting upright and awake.

"Headmaster!" she shrieked.

Hermione bit back a guffaw as Dumbledore jerked in surprise, and turned to face her.

She was the only one in the school who could scold him and get away with it.

"I thought I told you and Mr. Weasley to come get me the minute one of them awoke!"

"She only just awoke, Poppy..."

"Where is Ronald as a matter of fact!?"

Hermione spoke up. "He's been sent off to bed."

"I just sent him off..." began Dumbledore.

"Well it's about time too!" Pomfrey cut him off again and strode over to a table near Harry and Hermione's beds, dumping the gifts and flowers unceremoniously. "Two days sleeping in a chair, holding on to those two's hands for dear life... I don't know why I allowed it!"

She strode over to Dumbledore, hands on her hips, and puffed at a frizzy piece of auburn hair that kept falling in her eyes.

"And now I want you out of here too, please...I have a patient to examine..."

Dumbledore nodded gently and rose with a smile. "I was just leaving."

He began to walk out with a nod towards Hermione, but she stopped him. She still had many questions she wanted answered.

"Professor wait! About Starven... How did he get in the school undetected? I don't understand...What about the Ministry?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment before he spoke. There had been a serious flaw in the charming of the school grounds, although not one that had been foreseeable. Since Kavan had once been a student, and since disappearing, his name had never been bothered to be changed to non-student status, the "charm" as it was, had recognized him as a student, and had not alarmed the teachers of his presence. Even now, since Kavan’s whereabouts were now known, the ministry was trying to determine who the bones found in Knockturn Alley belonged to. Dumbledore didn’t wish to burden Hermione with information that had nothing to do with her, so he chose his words carefully. "Starven was already here when Professors McGonnagol, Snape and I put the safety charms around the school so there was no way of knowing... As far as the ministry is concerned, they did have some to do with this as Quidditch is one part of the Ministry of Magic, and they hired the recruiters... Starven wasn't the imposter's real name... We've recovered his body and it's being sent to the ministry for an investigation. That’s all I can tell you for now Miss Gran..."

"Yes, yes..." began Pomfrey, cutting in once again, "I'm sure the Ministry's been turned on it's ear trying to figure out how one of Voldemort's minions infiltrated them and disguised himself so easily, but the questions will have to wait Miss Granger. You've been seriously beaten about and you need to lie back and relax while I examine you."

"But I need to know..."

"No buts! It'll all be there when you're well enough to hear it. Now lie still!"

Hermione grimaced and glanced over to Dumbledore while Pomfrey poked and prodded her.

Once again, Dumbledore gave Hermione a "she's only doing her job" smile, and left quietly, clicking the door shut behind him.

While Pomfrey examined her, both she and Hermione heard low moans and mumblings coming from the bed beside them.

Hermione kept straining to peer past Pomfrey at Harry but she kept gently pushing her back down.

Finally, Pomfrey sighed as well and turned to glance at Harry, shaking her head and tsking. Her expression was one of annoyance mixed with worry.

She began mumbling sharply to herself as she turned back to Hermione, peering in her eyes and then gently peeling the bandage from her forehead to change it.

"I swear that boy...always marching off like a hero...wonder he's not already dead...bursting in here carrying you like a limp rag doll, both of you drenched and filthy, covered in bruises and cuts...lucky those were easy to mend...no broken bones..."

Hermione glanced sideways at Pomfrey with wide, surprised eyes. He had carried her? She couldn't remember...

"...wouldn't even leave your side...tried to make him go get some rest...wouldn't budge...finally had to force him to drink the sleeping potion...no sleep in over thirty five hours...just sat there and stared at you..."

Hermione sat up quickly, her eyes full of tears. She almost bumped heads with Pomfrey and locked her eyes with a gaze of misery.

"Harry stayed here with me the whole time? Even though he didn't have too!?"

Pomfrey's expression changed instantly, surprise lighting her face as she realized Granger had been listening. But she sighed irritably, glad for someone to hear her woes.

"Couldn't make him leave!" She gazed back at Harry. "He flew in here three nights ago carrying you...you looked awful...We even had a hard time making him let you go! He was just in tears...wouldn't leave your side for one minute. Found him in here the next day curled up beside you on the bed. Well that was the last straw! I told him if he was going to stay he had to clean up, eat something and take the sleeping draught...Finally made him; good thing too. Poor thing looked about ready to collapse."

When Pomfrey turned back to Hermione, she saw the girl slumped down in misery, her hands over her eyes. A torrent of tears spilled down her cheeks and she could hardly speak.

"He did all that for me..."

Pomfrey's usually hard expression softened and she sat on Hermione's bed, placing an arm about her shoulders and pulling the younger girl to her.

"Now then...no need for all of that...of course he did." She patted Hermione's shoulder comfortingly, settled her back in her bed once more, pulled the covers up to her waist and turned to leave the room.

Hermione sighed raggedly and tore her gaze from Harry to look at Pomfrey.

"Madame...what'd you mean 'of course he did'?"

Pomfrey stopped and gazed at Hermione, her eyebrows lowered in a not unkind scowl. She shook her head in astonishment.

"Great wizards...Love truly is blind...no matter what age you are."

She stood for a moment taking in the surprised, confused look on the young girl's face and then strode over to the door and pointed her wand at the candle lamps in the room.

"Incendium Extinguo."

Instantly, the candles snuffed themselves out, leaving the infirmary lit only by the light of the moon, shining in through the window.

Pomfrey took one last look at her wards and sighed, shutting the door behind her gently.

Hermione lay still for a moment, gazing at the ceiling. Since she'd already slept for three days, and so much plagued her mind, she didn't know how she was supposed to sleep the night through.

She turned towards her night stand and found a round mirror in the drawer. Taking it out and gazing at her reflection, only lit by the moon, she gently lifted the bandage on her head. The wound had already healed, thanks to whatever Madame Pomfrey had magicked up. Pomfrey was always over-careful, and the material itched like crazy, so Hermione lifted it off of her head and laid it aside.

The small nicks and cuts on her face, arms and legs, and all of the bruising had been easily dealt with. But the pain would take some time to subside. Both she and Harry had taken quite a few lumps.

But the most noticeable difference were her eyes. The reflection that stared back at her was no longer confident, but seemed haunted.

A million different thoughts began swimming in her head as she laid the mirror down and turned over to gaze at Harry, who was blessedly devoid of nightmares for the moment.

How long would she, Harry, and Ron have to go through this? Voldemort wasn't going to stop until either he or Harry were dead. And he wouldn't stop trying to get to him through any means necessary.

Hermione thought about what Dumbledore had said about the use of dark magic. She had somehow known that Harry wouldn't kill Voldemort. He wouldn't use dark magic even if he could without it taking hold of him. Dark magic was what killed his parents, and Harry loathed it. He'd hated Voldemort and everything he stood for from the moment he'd found out the truth about his parents' death.

But someday, Hermione knew, Harry might be forced to use it, for it was the only thing that would permanently rid them of the dark lord. He'd have to be strong enough to use the dark arts without being consumed by it.

Harry had become quite powerful, but still not powerful enough to kill and be able to let go of that power once it was done. One had to be very strong to use it and turn from it afterwards.

But Voldemort was still alive, even without his body; and since he had found a way to get it back before, he would find a way again. He still had supporters out there; ones who claimed to have seen the error of their ways, but were secretly waiting for a sign from him...

"NO! Don't go near her...fight me...d...don't..."

Harry had begun to dream again. The blankets were hopelessly twisted around him as he tossed. One arm flew out and knocked his glasses from the nightstand.

Quickly Hermione got up and walked over to him, picking up the thin lenses and setting them back on his table.

Finally, he settled uneasily back into his favorite position, one arm curled under his head, the other draped across his stomach, when Hermione saw a chain dangling from his fist.

Reaching over to gently pry apart his fingers, she slowly pulled the chain from his grip.

It was the pendant necklace that he had given her. The red heart glowed brilliantly in the dark room.

Hermione closed her eyes for a brief moment, holding the pendant to her. For a while, the necklace had been the only thing that had kept her from breaking down when Voldemort had her.

She tried to keep the tears from coming but she couldn't help it.

She lowered her head as a wave of guilt ran through her. She stayed that way for some time before speaking softly.

"Harry...I'm so sorry."

Harry turned his head and slowly opened his eyes. The room swam for a few moments before it came into focus. He made out the slightly blurry form of Hermione, standing beside his bed, tears streaming down her face. She was holding her necklace to her chest, and choking back sobs that left her shaking.

Harry's mind cleared quickly enough to remember all that had happened and he tried too quickly to sit up. He felt a wave of pain run through his head and opted to try it again a little more slowly.

Hermione jumped back a little, startled that he was awake. Quickly she swiped the tears from her face as Harry grasped her hand, drawing her closer.

"'Mione! How long've you been awake? Are you ok? Do you hurt anywhere? What's wr..."

"I'm ok, Harry," Hermione cut him off gently and looked down, "Y..You were having a nightmare... I guess I had them too."

"Was I? I don't remember..."

Harry squinted his eyes shut and swiped a hand over his head, his hair a mess. Hermione thought she hadn't seen him look so young in a long time. When he fought Voldemort he looked so dangerous it was hard to remember that they were only sixteen, but in this moment, with the moon playing over his smooth features, sans glasses, in a rumpled tee-shirt and pajama pants, he seemed a young boy again.

Harry tried to stretch but found that the pain in his spine wouldn't allow him too; one too many times being thrown against the wall or to the floor. He groaned a little and put a hand to his back.

"Bloody hell...I feel like I've been run over by a hippogriff."

Hermione dropped his hand and backed up a little, pressing her lips together and fighting the urge to cry again.

Harry looked up at her confusedly, with those achingly beautiful green eyes again, even more so without the glasses, and she lost it.

Her chest heaved and she stepped back, landing heavily back onto her bed, and staring at him through tears.

"Harry...I'm s..so sorry...I'm so sorry!"

Instantly Harry shot out of bed and was at her side, ignoring the pain. He sat beside her and took her face in his hands, searching it desperately.

"For what!? What'd you mean? Wh...what is it? Are you hurting? Where?"

She pulled away from him and grabbed his hands, staring at him intensely.

"This is all because of me! You had to face Voldemort again because of me! H..He almost KILLED you..." She sobbed again and shook her head at herself angrily, "All because of me..."

"What!?" Harry looked almost angry at her and turned her face up to meet his gaze.

She looked at him reluctantly, guilt and shame all over her face.

"Hermione, that's crazy! He took you to get to ME! It was my fault!" said Harry in exasperation.

"If I had tried harder...maybe I could've gotten away! You wouldn't have even had to come after me! I fought Starven but I wasn't strong enough...With the wand, I had him, but he blew it away from me...and then...I couldn't fight him physically...he was too strong..."

"'Mione, I came after you because I love you!"

Immediately, Hermione's gaze shot up. She supposed later that most girls instant reactions to that statement would have been some love-sick hysteria...more sobbing... but she opted for stunned silence.

She couldn't even force the word "what!?" out properly, so it came out more as a strangled whisper.

Harry raked a hand through his hair and brought it to the back of his neck, rubbing it harshly. A multitude of emotions raged on his face, but one that did not register was confusion.

He knew now exactly how he felt. What he didn't know was how she felt. He rubbed his neck hard once more and let his hand fall to his lap.

"I..I know you might not feel the same way yet..or, or ever...I know we just started going out a few days ago. But I've known you for six years now, and this...th...it didn't just start for me...I think I've loved you for years...I just...We were friends and I didn't want to ruin it...for Ron either. And now...now that Voldemort knows, you're in more danger than ever, and it's because of me. And we can't go back now..He already knows...he already knows..."

"Harry." Hermione breathed out his name. She didn't trust herself to be able to speak normally yet.

Harry looked down anxiously, shaking his head. At what...he didn't know. He was just overcome.

Hermione screwed up her courage. "Harry, I've loved you for so long it hurts."

Instantly Harry's mouth dropped open and he jerked his gaze up to hers. Words completely left him.

Hermione knew that it might seem like a silly thing to say, but it was true. It had been almost physically painful to love him and not be with him.

They both began breathing rapidly. Was it from what they had just admitted? Neither were sure, but both had just stepped over a line that couldn't be re-crossed.

Harry was sure that he would never ever forget those nine words for as long as he lived. They were the sweetest and most powerful that he had ever heard, and they were for him...from her. He was completely amazed.

In an instant they were in each others arms, kissing so desperately that it seemed like the first one.

Harry wrapped his arms around her tightly, crushing her to him. It scared him to know how much he needed her. He didn't even feel worthy of her and yet, she had chosen him.

Hermione ran her fingers through Harry's tousled hair and gently crushed a handful of it in her fist. She had waited so long for him to hold her...kiss her...touch her...

Both secretly hoped the other had enough will power to stop. Harry laid Hermione back gently. He kissed her hair, her cheeks, her neck. She tangled both hands in his hair and kissed the top of his head, bringing his lips to hers again.

She kissed his cheeks, his ears. Harry's hands began to wander again of their own accord. He kissed all over her face, the hollow of her neck, her collarbone...

But as soon as his hand made it under her pajama top he stopped, breathing raggedly.

He flopped beside her and ran a hand over his face.

"You're killin' me Hermione...you know that don't you..."

Hermione stared at him intensely, breathing just as raggedly. You and me both... she thought guiltily.

Harry slid a hand under her waist and drew her close to him. She laid on her back, her head on the arm that was curled under his head.

They laid like that for some time, both still very aware of the others nearness.

After a while, it was clear to Hermione that Harry was deep in thought about something and was unsure of how to share it with her. Knowing him so well, she decided to tough out the wait until he was ready.

Finally Harry spoke in a whisper.

"'Mione..."

"Mmm?"

"I uh...I want to...I need to show you something."

Harry turned on his side facing her, and with a look of apprehension, stretched a hand towards the lamp by her bed.

In a quiet but eerily masterful tone, he muttered a spell.

"Lucerna Ascendo."

The dark lamp began to rattle a little on her table and then slowly rose, hovering at the same height as Harry's hand.

The higher Harry lifted his hand, the higher the lamp rose until he finally willed it to stop about five feet above them.

Hermione was stunned. She looked at Harry almost a little fearfully, and sure enough, saw no wand in his hand. Her eyes widened.

"Harry..."

Only fully grown wizards were able to perform magic without their wands...and that had only come after many years of study and practice.

Harry glanced at her a little nervously and then back at the lamp.

"Igniculus."

He snapped his fingers and instantly a tiny flame kindled on the wick of the candle.

When Harry wiggled his fingers at it the flame rose higher and burned brighter until he was satisfied with it, and lowered his hand.

He turned a little hesitantly to take in Hermione's reaction. She just continued to stare with an expression of awe at the lamp burning brightly above them.

Finally she turned towards Harry.

"How...how long've you been able to do that?"

Harry turned his gaze back toward the lamp. "For a while now...You're the only one that knows. I haven't even told Ron."

Hermione shifted up onto her elbow, looking down at him. "Harry...how...what else can you do?"

He shrugged. "A few things...I wish I could levitate more than one thing at a time without my wand though. It might've helped with Voldemort..."

"But still, Harry! You...you're not supposed to be able to do that!"

Harry turned from her and sighed, a troubled expression on his face.

"I know."

He stretched a hand toward the lamp again and closed his hand into a fist. The flame snuffed itself out.

Then he magically led the lamp back to its nightstand.

Hermione fell back again onto his arm and moved closer, amazed at what she had just witnessed. It mightn't have seemed like much when faced with wizards like Dumbledore, but she and Harry weren't even fully grown wizards. Mastering magic without the wand usually took years of intense practice and incredibly, it just came to Harry?

He'd defeated Voldemort at age one, defying reason by emerging unhurt from the Avada Kedavra curse and also almost killing the dark lord. He'd faced him many times since and the dark lord had yet to defeat him completely. And now this?

"What are you..." Hermione whispered barely audibly.

"I'm just a wizard Hermione," Harry answered quietly, "I'm just...a little different."

Harry turned toward her in that moment and looked more vulnerable than Hermione had ever seen him. He had grown up so much, and had become so powerful, and yet... at times Hermione swore she still saw the little discarded boy on Privet Drive, locked in the cupboard under the stairs behind his eyes.

She realized it had taken a lot of courage for him to show her what he just had, knowing that it might have caused her to back away from him.

He had a beseeching look on his face, quietly pleading with her to tell him it was ok... that she still loved him, as different as he was...with all of the trouble that followed him...

Hermione replied by kissing him as thoroughly as she could, wrapping her arms around him. Harry responded immediately, holding her as tightly as he could.

When they finally broke apart, completely breathless, they turned on their sides, facing one another and snuggled close. Hermione rested her face in Harry's neck, an arm about his waist and he put a hand on the back of her head and one arm underneath and around her.

Harry lay there for some time, listening to her breathing change. It had taken a mere half and hour or so for her to fall asleep.

He felt his mind begin to drift as well and focused on a few remaining thoughts.

Voldemort almost certainly would come again, and he wanted to be ready; even more prepared. He wasn't ashamed to admit to himself that the dark lord had been clumsy...he'd underestimated Harry, and as a result, hadn't fought as well as he could. Harry had been lucky and he knew that Voldemort wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

He needed to learn more about these powers that suddenly had begun revealing themselves to him. Somewhere deep in his gut, he knew the day would come soon when one final battle would take place. He needed to be ready.

Harry held out the hand that was encircling Hermione, palm out, and whispered quietly.

"Infligo."

A small blue flame erupted in his palm, wavering slightly. He watched it for a moment and then squelched it with his fist, a small smile playing on his face.

Finally he closed his eyes, held Hermione close, and let sleep claim him.

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THE END (for now) ;0)