(A/N: Here's chapter six. I tried to put a little bit of everything in this chapter, and I think I am satisfied with the way it turned out. I don't love it, nor do I hate it. This is a lighter chapter, but it's only a breath before the plunge. I hope you all enjoy it and don't hate me too much at the end.
For those who want to know what 'The Maw' is in the title, it IS NOT in the story, but it's the idea behind the main theme of this entire fanfic; which you will find out throughout the story. Your first hint of exactly what the maw is (Or an example of 'the maw') is in this chapter. A keen eye will pick it out.
On a side note, this story is subtly laced with symbolism. For those who are into that, you can pick it out if you have a keen eye and possibly even predict events later in the story. For those who aren't, ignore it.
Without further ado: Chapter six: Club S.P.E.W.)
"There, that's the last one," Hermione said, standing back to admire her work. Since Monday was the first day of club signups, she had been working fervently to charm posters declaring Club S.P.E.W.'s goals and activities to every wall, bulletin board, and door in the castle. It was now Tuesday, and her efforts were nearly complete. She had just finished sticking the final sign up sheet to the bulletin board in the great hall. "This should get the message out."
"They weren't interested two years ago Hermione," argued Ron, "What makes you think they will be interested now?" Though he did not say it out loud, Harry thought Ron had a fair point.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spied Gates standing several paces away, staring critically at the poster Hermione had made. For the past week, Harry had been wondering when the promised punishment would arrive for going through Gates's cloak. Nothing had yet come; but Harry could not help but remember Gates's warning that it might be weeks before he decides the time is ripe for retribution.
All in all, nothing new had been discovered concerning the bracelet or Sirius's third request, which made for a very uneventful week of studying for classes and tests; due to no small part of Hermione's insistence that they study harder than ever before because of their N.E.W.T. classes. Privately, Harry felt that the week was only seemed boring because there have been no attempts on his life yet; something which never failed to occur every year since his first. Though Harry had to admit, it was a welcome reprieve.
Hermione sniffed disapprovingly. "Well, they didn't know about it two years ago. This time will be different. Also, I am waving the entrance fee. We will only be taking donations now."
"We?" said Ron incredulously, "What makes you think we will be getting involved? Its one thing to do this on your own; its completely another to drag us into it."
Hermione turned to Harry for support. "Umm-" Harry began, nervously trying to think of a way out of the situation, "Couldn't hurt to sign up, really."
Ron shot him an exasperated look. Hermione beamed. "Then that settles it. Here, you can use my quill." She drew a quill from her robes and offered it to Harry and Ron in turn.
"Thanks," Harry said as he signed his name to the list. He noticed that his name was the first. "So when will we know when the meetings are?" He handed the quill to Ron, who grudgingly signed his name as well.
"You know all the posters I put up around the castle?" Hermione asked, grinning.
"How could we forget." muttered Ron.
"On each of the posters," she continued, valiantly ignoring Ron's barb, "I assigned an area which will have the date and time of each meeting I set - like the coins for the D.A. Not only that-"
"Potter, the mudblood, and the Weasley; can't imagine what you three are up to." drawled a voice from behind Harry. He involuntarily clutched his wand and whirled around to meet Draco eye to eye. Unsurprisingly, he was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
"To think that you all but disappeared for a week. Too much to hope for, I suppose. Though ferrets are rather good at that, so they say." Harry said, controlling himself. He heard Ron's heavy breathing behind him and knew that he would have to cut this confrontation short.
Draco's gaze rose to the Club S.P.E.W. poster on the bulletin board. "Can't say this was unexpected. No doubt the mudblood finds comfort being with the other lowest classes..." Goyle and Crabbe laughed uproariously.
"What's your business here Malfoy," Harry said loudly, glancing quickly to the area where Gates stood. He had not moved.
Malfoy sighed and shifted his attention to Harry. "Just a friendly reminder. You know, of the Dueling Club signups." He gestured to the other, larger poster on the bulletin board. It was colored acid green and was bordered with a long, lean Slytherin snake that stared blankly out of the poster with red eyes. It began slithering silently about the parchment, and Harry realized that it was enchanted with the same charm that made portraits move.
"Yeah I saw it," Harry said.
"Then sign it," Draco replied lazily, "Or have you forgotten the agreement? I knew you were too much of a coward to keep it. Weak blood runs through the family...Not to mention that clumsy godfather you hung around with who tripped through a veil. He hasn't been dogging anybody lately, has he?"
Clenching and unclenching his fists, Harry made to sign his name under the large, bleeding red banner of the Dueling Club. "Can I borrow your quill Hermione?"
"No," Hermione said sharply, "You're letting him get to you. Don't you see that?"
"Use mine," Draco said, his eyes glinting. He extended a plume of an eagle to Harry, who took it reluctantly. "I wouldn't want you to use the mudblood's quill anyway. The taint might ruin the poster."
Harry signed his name quickly and threw it back to Draco as if it burned. Hermione glared from Malfoy to Harry; and then back to Malfoy.
"Ruin the poster, will it?" she said scathingly, "Then I think I will." She signed her name on the poster; and the ink turned a dark shade of red after she finished. Ron snatched the quill from her and added his name to the list; his hand shaking the entire time from rage.
"Then that completes the entire Gryffindor house," Malfoy drawled, "Mind you, I don't give a damn about this Dueling Club. I just want to beat you, Potter; this time one on one. Most of the school signed up, though. Quite popular. Good luck with your, erm," his eyes flitted to the Club S.P.E.W. poster, "club." Malfoy turned and strode away, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind, guffawing stupidly.
"Harry," Hermione said quietly, "Why-"
"I know," Harry snapped, "I know what I did. I signed up to that club so I can finally shut him up in front of the school and I don't regret it. I am not going to let him have a go at my parents like that. Not anymore."
Hermione looked at him with a pitying expression in her eyes. "What's done is done, then. But you'll need help, and that's why me and Ron joined too. We can't beat help you beat Malfoy, but I think we can look up some spells that you could use in the duel. I know Malfoy did. He's dangerous; he's been learning hexes and curses all summer, I can tell."
Harry had expected her to berate him for allowing Draco to lure him into dueling, or some other variation of anger. For a moment, he was off balance. "Thanks; both of you," he managed.
Hermione nodded. "Its almost time for Transfiguration. Right, so Professor McGonnagall told me that we'll be learning a lot about changing specific parts of objects into other things. Like turning someone's arm into wood, for example. So we should probably begin reading the first few chapters, you know, so we can be prepared..."
Harry and Ron exchanged desperate looks and trudged on behind her while she continued to explain today's lesson to them. She was beginning to delve into the finer points of appendage replacement when she paused suddenly.
"Harry, is something wrong?"
Harry was caught off guard. "No, I was just thinking. Of Sirius." In truth, he was thinking of what Sirius would say if he knew what Harry was getting into. Draco's words on the train were bouncing around his head like pin balls and brief flares of anger welled up inside him. Repeatedly, he assured himself that he had joined the Dueling Club for Sirius; bringing vengeance upon Malfoy for insulting Sirius's memory. A small, quiet voice in the recesses of his mind - one that sounded very much like Hermione - said "Sirius would never want you to do this. He wants you safe, Harry, and you know that. Are you really doing this for him?"
He never had a response.
Hermione fell back to him and said in a lower voice, for his ears alone, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, thank you. I just need more time to...think." Harry threw one last glance at the Slytherin green poster for the Dueling Club, and, seeing that all three of their names were dripping something that looked hideously like blood, turned away.
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Transfiguration passed as slowly as ever. After being warned of the limitless complications that could arise if performed improperly, Professor McGonagall turned a frog's leg into solid rock and back again in front of the class. Showing them the required wand movement and incantation, she divided them into groups and allowed them to attempt the spell on their own frogs. Few were successful.
Ron failed completely, and Harry was not doing much better. Although he managed to make his frog's leg turn stiff, he was not able to transfigure the flesh into rock. Hermione, on the other hand, performed the spell perfectly ten minutes into class and earned Gryffindor fifteen points and a rare smile from the professor.
Gates, not able to find a dark corner in the brightly lit room, wandered aimlessly around the classroom, looking down on everyone with a certain untouchable, arrogant superiority. At times, he would even tell students (With a large amount of brusqueness) that he had rarely felt Transfiguration was useful, and would then proceed to cast the appropriate spell onto the frog so that all of its legs, rather than just one, turned to stone; then subtly muttered another incantation that forced the frog to cough up pebbles whenever it croaked. Professor McGonagall's lip formed a tight line and her eyes became narrowed.
"Mr. Gates, I do remember giving you a 'Poor' on a practical examination once because you were unable to turn a arrow into an olive branch," McGonagall said loudly, ensuring that the entire class heard, "So I feel it is my duty to remind you that you were hardly a brilliant student." Scattered chuckles rose from parts of the room then fell under Gates's glare.
Gates glowered. "And I question the teaching abilities of those who have students who cannot accomplish a relatively basic transfiguration spell. The difference with me was, of course, that I deemed Transfiguration was unnecessary when it came to fighting the dark arts. I don't waste time lightly, Minerva" His diamond necklace glittered and the entire classroom held its breath.
"We all have our own fates," Professor McGonagall said sagely, "Yours will come eventually." She turned her attention to the class. "Homework will be to practice and accomplish the spell you learned today. Class dismissed."
The students filtered out of the room and Harry and Ron stayed behind to wait for Hermione. She had ran up to Professor McGonagall as soon as class was over. Gates, appearing slightly chafed from the encounter with his old professor, stood by wordlessly. When Hermione left the room, she silenced their questions with a wave of her hand and tilted her head meaningfully towards Gates. Understanding at once, Harry followed her down the great hall.
"Merlin, he's so arrogant," said Ron in a hushed voice; fearing Gates would overhear, "Attacking Professor McGonagall like that. He's mental! Its like he lives on his own mountain."
Hermione furtively glanced over her shoulder to see that Gates was a good deal away. "I finally was able to talk to Professor McGonagall about transfiguring things into diamonds."
"And?" Ron asked expectantly.
"And its possible," Hermione continued, "Though its extraordinarily difficult and most wizards don't bother learning it. Most only learn the skill if their profession demands it. Professor McGonagall can do it, but she says it requires incredible amounts of practice, patience and raw talent. And, of course, you need an excellent teacher."
Harry scratched his head. "Why do you need all that? I mean, its no different than other types of transfiguration, right?"
"Yes and no," Hermione answered, "Its the same type of magic, but you need to be extremely precise if you are going to be turning something into a diamond or jewel. If you aren't concentrating enough, the jewel will be flawed and it will look terrible. The reason is because of the refraction of the stones as well as its atom structure and-" She noted Ron and Harry's blank stares and skipped the rest of her explanation, "To sum it all up, to create something that looks perfectly like a jewel, you need to lots of training and power. The diamond's on Gates's necklace look perfect, but honestly I don't think Gates has the patience required to learn this sort of skill."
"But we don't know for sure," Harry said tentatively.
"No, but its a good assumption that those are real - real as in made by nature - diamonds." replied Hermione.
Harry had never told Hermione and Ron about the voices coming from the necklace, and he was starting to feel that he should. He did not want to see their confused expressions; especially when he did not know himself what the voices could mean. Skirting the subject carefully, Harry asked vaguely "How about enchantments on the necklace?"
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Well, is there any reason to think its enchanted? Sure, it sort of draws people to it, but I think that's from subconscious greed or some charm that plays with the mind. Not an enchantment in the true sense."
"Look, you remember when I told you that I think the necklace is from Voldemort?" Harry said, lowering his voice. Harry had deliberately omitted the part where he heard screams coming from the diamonds. Ron would think he was mad, and Hermione would panic. Now, however, he wanted to tell them. The thought that Gates could be in the league with Voldemort was terrifying; even if the mere notion was absurd because of the fact that he was a known dark wizard hunter.
Hermione and Ron nodded. Harry had told Ron during lunch that same day. "You said it was from Voldemort because of the attraction..." Ron said slowly.
"Yes, but there was more," Harry said quickly, "I heard voices. Faint voices coming from the necklace. In my mind, I saw flashes and images of wizards. All of them followers of the dark arts."
Hermione bit her lip. Ron stared wide-eyed at him.
Seeing their reactions, Harry continued. "And all those wizards; they all had the dark mark. I saw it on their forearms. What do you think it is? What does it mean?"
"It could be some artifact of Voldemort's," Hermione said, "Who knows where he got it; but I think we can be sure that he did not buy it from some vendor. That necklace could be magical and powerful; the secret to Gates's strength. Maybe its some sort of master web that connects all of Voldemort's followers together. If only I could examine it up close..." She paused. "We should tell Dumbledore."
"Tell him what?" Harry said, "That I heard voices coming out of Gates's necklace? Or at least I think I did; it might have even been leftover fumes addling my brain from that potion Snape had us brew. Hearing voices in your head is a bad sign, even in the wizarding world. Right Ron?" Ron nodded slowly. "I want to wait until we know more; as far we know, it might be Gates's idea of a joke."
Deep down, he promised himself that he would go to the headmaster after he found more collaborating evidence. He desperately wanted respect, and he would never get it if he ran to the headmaster every time something happened. Only after he's absolutely certain that the necklace is dangerous…
Hermione frowned. "Well if we aren't going to tell Dumbledore, then at least we should know what it is. If you think its from V-Voldermort, then we should at least check it out. I'm going to stop by the library this afternoon to find out whether its some sort of artifact."
The trio found themselves meandering through the castle and out the front doors. Their Care of Magical Creatures lesson was about to begin soon, and they were running out of time. Already a small crowd of students were gathering near Hagrid's hut for class and they quickened their pace. As they approached, Harry noticed a slick, blonde head in the crowd. Malfoy.
"Looks like we are going to be with the Slytherins again," Harry groaned.
When they reached the hut, they found a clear spot of grass and sat down, waiting for Hagrid's appearance. Not long after, Hagrid's massive figure stepped out of the hunt and waved at the waiting students jovially.
"'ello there!" Hagrid called, grinning broadly. Harry saw Gates eyeing the half-giant carefully, looking supremely unimpressed by his size. "Got an interestin' lesson for you. Dobby! Dobby where ar' you?"
A loud crack echoed through the nearby woods and a house-elf apparated by Hagrid, his short stature in sharp contrast to Hagrid's great height. "Dobby is here, sirs!" he squeaked, bowing so low that some of the many hats he took fell off his head. Hermione gasped in surprise as she recognized the recipient of all her knitting last year.
Harry saw with some satisfaction that Malfoy was taken aback by the sight of his old house-elf in front of him. He leaned over and began muttering something to his cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.
"Ah," Hagrid said, "'Ello Dobby. we're gonna learn about house-elves toda'. Not a lot, but jus' so you know a lil' bit about 'em."
Hermione's face lit up; and Harry could clearly see the passion that S.P.E.W. gave her fill her eyes.
"Dobby 'ere is a house-elf. Hogwarts is run by a small army of them, but that isn't what we're 'ere about. House-elves are 'ery powerful magical creatures, but they aren' recognized for that 'cause most are in servitude for wizards. Underestimate', yer know? Now I'll save the history of how 'ouse-elves came ter servin' wizards ter Professor Binns. Righ' now, you jus' need ter know wha' they can do. Dobby..."
Dobby bounded up a few steps so he was only a few meters from the majority of the class. "Dobby knows many spells and charms that he uses to serve the young masters at Hogwarts. Dobby and other helpers of Dumbledore can disappear so young sirs will not see we's around the castle. House-elf motto is not to be seen, young sirs."
"That's not all you can do," Malfoy said rather loudly from in front of the class.
"Young master Malfoy is right. Dobby learned a few bad magic spells from former bad-dark-wizard masters. Dobby does not use them anymore," He gave Malfoy a short, appraising look, "Dobby remembers you from old master's house. Dobby cleaned up many messes young sir made when he was younger."
Several people in the class sniggered, thinking of what 'messes' Dobby was referring to. Malfoy flushed and retreated back into the crowd.
Hagrid, seeing Dobby was done speaking, said, "Now I'm 'ure you all have lots 'a questions. Let's 'ear some and we'll move on."
Hermione's hand shot up instantly. Hagrid pointed at her, and she asked, "Why do house-elves work for no pay and why are they so badly treated by most wizard families?"
Ron groaned from beside Harry. "She's advertising for spew." Ron said in a low voice.
Hagrid hesitated. "'Ell, you see, there's a magical bond created when a famil' takes a house-elf. They don't have much say after that, I s'ppose." Harry, though, was positive Hermione had already known that.
"In other words its bondage," Harry heard Hermione mutter.
Hagrid apparently did not hear her. "Anyone else?" Hagrid asked, looking slightly disappointed at the lack of interest. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy, what's yer question?"
Harry immediately stared at Malfoy. Draco never participated in Care of Magical Creatures unless it was to interfere with the lesson or insult Hagrid.
"If house-elves are, err, 'ery powerful magical creatures," Malfoy said, making a bad imitation of Hagrid's voice. "Why don't they just take over? You know; kill everyone?" He smirked.
"You see," Hagrid said, "'Ouse-elves are pure 'reatures; not willin' to get mixed up with bad magic too oft'n. No house-elf can do an Unforgiveable Curs', if that's what yer askin'. But house-elves are pow'rful; can beat mos' wizards if they had the mind."
"And what are those stupid things on that house-elf's head?" Malfoy continued loudly. Hermione blushed.
"I can't say fer sure," Hagrid said, looking uneasy, "S'ppose he gathered them somewhere. Dobby is one of the few that works for pay and's free."
The lesson continued with Hagrid explaining how house-elves are taken care of, their daily food requirements (Which was almost nothing), and house-elf behavior. Dobby, who was very helpful to Hagrid during the class, answered some more questions that students had about house-elf punishments. When he told them that he used to have to beat himself when he did something wrong, many people looked shocked and surprised; some even recoiling. Dobby also explained the concept of 'clothes' to the class. Hermione appeared pleased with how the lesson progressed.
"This is working out so well," Hermione said eagerly, "People are getting the message about how house-elves are treated from their own classes. S.P.E.W. will have no trouble with members; I can feel it."
As it turned out, house-elves were powerful. Hagrid related a story about a rogue house-elf who, once he was free of his masters, learned some incredibly advanced magic and was deemed one of the most powerful beings of his age. Dobby bobbed his head in agreement as the story progressed, sometimes adding parts that he had heard before.
When two-thirds of the lesson was completed, ten other house-elves appeared with massive trays of food and drink. They quickly set up a long, wooden table and placed forks, spoons, plates, and other silverware along the seats. The house-elves worked with amazing speed and efficiency; Hermione nodding her head knowingly then entire time.
"The 'ouse-elves offer'd to set up a small meal for you all," Hagrid said, smiling down upon the class, "So I thought you might want a bite to eat as well as see 'ouse-elves in action. So go ahead an' eat."
The class immediately fell down upon the table and ate, glancing appreciatively in the house-elves' direction. After they were finished, all the house-elves except Dobby bowed and apparated; vanishing with a crack. Ron began shoveling large spoonfuls of mashed potatoes onto his plate, pouring gravy on everything and then devouring it.
Harry, seeing this, said, "I'm not too hungry. Lunch is next, anyway."
Ron missed his point. "'er 're? 'L'nt t' eat'" He said through a mouthful of food. Hermione wrinkled her nose and pushed her plate away.
What do you say we go down the kitchens and visit Dobby?" Hermione asked conversationally, "I'm sure he wouldn't mind; he hasn't seen you in a year. Besides, I want to know how Winky is doing."
"Now?" Ron asked incredulously, swallowing his food.
"Of course not now. We have classes," Hermione said sharply, "Tonight. There won't be any prefect duties and-"
"No prefect duties?" Ron exclaimed, "Brilliant! I need to practice my Quidditch."
Hermione rolled her eyes and continued. "If you are going be in S.P.E.W., we will need to visit the kitchens quite often to keep tabs on the house-elves' state of affairs."
"Forget it," retorted Ron, "We can't go every night."
"We wouldn't go every night. That would be impossible, of course. Tonight just happens to be a convenient time."
Ron shook his head. "I don't get what the hurry is all about, why can't we just go during the afternoon or early evening when there isn't a chance we'll get caught by Filch."
"We have a prefect meeting earlier in the evening, Ron," said Hermione, crossing her arms, "And the house elves will be too busy in the kitchens during the afternoon because they will be preparing dinner."
"Isn't that, I don't know, against the rules?" Ron asked sarcastically.
"Some things are more important than rules, Ron," said Hermione, causing Ron to drop his fork.
"But what about him?" Harry said, his eyes flickering to Gates's looming figure at the end of the table. He was casually eating a pear while keeping one eye locked on Harry.
"Who cares, honestly," Hermione said, surprising both of them, "He can come too if he wants. So do you want to?"
"No way," Ron said before Harry could answer, "We have a Quidditch season to practice for. Remember Alicia has Gryffindor on the Quidditch field for Wednesday at six o'clock. We need to be in shape, right Harry?" He added, nudging Harry in the side. "And by the time we come back, we'll need to, erm, study and stuff."
"I'm not asking you to, Ron," Hermione said scathingly, "Harry will go. Won't you Harry?" She turned to him hopefully.
Harry looked at Hermione, whose face was shining, then to Ron, who shook his head imperceptibly and mouthed Quidditch. "Err-," Harry said, unsure of how to answer. "Sure I would like to visit Dobby..." he said, hearing Ron groan beside him.
"She'll never let up now, mate," Ron said, pity in his eyes, "You're going to be part of every S.P.E.W. activity from now until you die. I feel bad for you." For some reason, Harry did not think that was too bad of an idea.
Hermione squealed happily. "Great then we can go at around eight o'clock tonight then? After studying, of course."
"Sounds fine," Harry replied, not planning on devoting any time to studying anyway. "Though I better tell Dobby before we come so the house-elves can have some food we can lug back up to Ron."
"Oh never mind him," she said, casting a disdainful look at Ron, who was now leaning back comfortably in his chair patting his stomach.
"Dobby! Do you have a minute?" Harry called, seeing the clothed house-elf nearby.
"Harry Potter!" Dobby squeaked as he bounded up to Harry, "Dobby have not seen you for many months! What can Dobby do for you?" He gave Harry his best toothy grin and waited.
"Me and Hermione will be coming down to the kitchens tonight," Harry said, then as an afterthought, "And we might have another guest. Could you have some extra food out for us?"
"Dobby will be happy to do this for Harry Potter! We's will be ready when you come, young sirs and miss!"
"How's Winky doing Dobby?" Hermione asked from across the table.
Dobby beamed. "Winky is doing very well! Dobby convinced her that she is with Dumbledore now!"
"That's wonderful Dobby!" Harry said, meaning it, "Tell her to be there when we come by."
Dobby bowed deeply, causing his tower of hats to fall to the ground. He quickly picked them back up and stacked them atop his head. "Winky will be there, sirs!" he said as he scavenged for lost hats, "Winky loves company!"
"I see you enjoy all those hats I knitted Dobby," Hermione said, smiling disarmingly. Harry had wondered when this was going to come up, and was relieved when he saw she was not angry.
"Young miss made all these?" Dobby said loudly, attracting curious glances from around the table, "These are the most beautiful hats...Dobby had no idea..." He looked close to tears and Harry glanced alarmingly at Hermione. Suddenly, the house-elf began to cry
"No its alright Dobby!" Hermione said quickly, "I want you to have them!"
But this made Dobby only bawl harder. Soon, he was sobbing on the ground, his ears drooping and eyes soaking the ground with tears. "Dobby had no idea young miss was so generous! Dobby knew young miss was wonderful and beautiful to be Harry Potter's best friend, but Dobby had no idea..." He collapsed into a fresh fit of heaving sobs. People began to stare blankly at the house-elf, utterly bewildered.
"Good thing you didn't tell him about the socks and gloves or he would have a stroke, "Harry joked quietly to Hermione. She laughed.
Eventually, Dobby pulled himself together and wiped away his tears. "Young miss and Harry Potter will have best visit to kitchen tonight!" Dobby said with a determined air, "Dobby will go to prepare." He vanished with a sound like a thunderclap.
"So you know Dobby, do yeh?" Hagrid said, walking up and clapping a large hand on Harry's shoulder causing him to almost fall off the chair. "Was the only elf willin' ter take the job, to be 'onest."
"Why's that?" Hermione asked, disconcerted.
"Don' like to be around people much. You he'rd their motto; the best house-elves aren't seen."
Hermione frowned. "That's a sad manifesto."
"So Hagrid, erm," Harry began, stumbling over his words, "How's your little brother?"
Hagrid leaned closer and lowered his voice. "'es real good now. Can even speak too. How would you like ter meet him again?"
Ron, who had never met Grawp, nodded enthusiastically. Hermione, however, shook her head. "No, its too dangerous, especially with that Skeeter woman flying around." She watched a fly on a biscuit as though expecting to see tiny markings around its bulging eyes.
"Yeah, I s'ppose," Hagrid said, sounding slightly crestfallen. "Well, the class is almost over an' the 'ouse-elves will be 'ere soon to clean up, so I should dismiss eve'yone."
Raising his voice above the chatter, Hagrid called out, "Al'ight everyone! Class is ove'. Go on ter yer next class!"
Taking up her bag, Hermione quickly muttered, "I'm stopping by the library. I'll see you two later on." She rushed away, her hair flying out behind her in her haste.
"Mental," Ron said, awed, "Completely mental. She realizes that we could just ask a professor about it, right?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I don't want anyone knowing about this. She has the right idea. I might just be paranoid but I think I did hear voices, Ron. I had to have my ear practically against it to hear them, but I did. Its disturbing, and we should wait until we know more before going to anyone for help."
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When evening came, Harry was shaken out of a light sleep by blurred mass of pink and blonde. He had been attempting, somewhat futilely, to catch up on some rest that he had lost by waking up so early this morning. Throwing on his glasses and letting his eyes focus on the dimly lit common room around him, Harry saw that Neville's face was about a foot away from his own.
"Neville what is it?"
"Sorry Harry!" Neville said apologetically, "But I had to know. Is there going to be a D.A. this year?" His blonde hair was plastered flatly against his forehead.
Harry rubbed his eyes. "What? Uhh, what time is it?" From over Neville's shoulder, Harry caught Gates's towering form easing his way through the crowded common room.
"It's only around eight thirty," said Neville in a rush, "So what will it be?"
"Yeah, we'll probably have the D.A. again," Harry paused, "What's with the sudden hurry to know?"
Neville grimaced. "Well, Mr. Gates is the reason, actually. I've been trying to talk to you alone all day but he's barely been more than a few paces away from you at any time. This is the only time I've found you away from him. Mr. Gates scares me; I don't like being near him."
"Neither do I," Harry agreed, "But don't worry about him. He won't do anything to any of you guys."
Harry turned his head to see, with a trace of apprehension, Ginny and Dean sitting rather close to each other in a corner. Harry understood at once why he had barely seen Ginny all summer. Knowing Ron's temperament to be considerably more confrontational since last year, Harry frowned at the thought of what would happen should they engage in more personal activities and Ron discovered them. I need to keep more of an eye on Ron, Harry thought, I have to be there if he ever explodes. Though Harry had no idea of what exactly he would do should Ron fall into one of his fits, he did know he had to be there.
"Any plans on what we're going to be doing this year Harry?" Neville asked eagerly with the expression of a little boy at Christmas.
Harry snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, well, we will definitely be working on spells that are effective against dark creatures; you know, Runespoors and Sphinxes and the like," Neville nodded. "Then we might start working on some hexes and curses that I've learned over the summer; as well as practice some old ones like the Patronus."
"So when will we start?"
Harry blinked. "We don't have a date set yet, but once we think of one I will set my galleon to it. Everyone who still has their galleons will come; and for those that don't, we will give them a replacement."
"Potter and Longbottom," droned a voice from behind Neville. Harry recoiled when he recognized it belonging to Gates. "Setting up their club for amateur Aurors…how marvelous." The countless diamonds on his necklace seemed to sparkle in unison as his tongue rolled over the final word.
Neville whirled around, petrified. His face drained of its color and his eyes locked with Gates's. Staring intently back at Neville, Gates maintained the link; his eyes never wavering from their probing state. Harry had the strange feeling that he was witnessing Gates performing Legilimency on Neville, and he moved sharply to break the bond between the two wizards. Standing up and shaking Neville fiercely, Harry saw a brief shot of Neville's violated eyes and pale, gaping face before Neville turned and fled. Not knowing what Gates uncovered within Neville and not wanting to know, Harry stared defiantly at Gates.
"What did you do to him, you bastard?" Harry demanded in a cold whisper.
Gates's eyes narrowed. "I stole a gaze at his inner demons, Potter. I saw what he truly is. Is that so wrong?"
"Where do you get your rights? Hermione's right; you are a monster." Harry nearly spat out the last word and Gates's eyes widened.
"I've been called many things, Potter," Gates said softly, "But that is new. Not creative, but certainly new," He leaned close to Harry so that his bald head was only barely above Harry's scalp. "Realize that this monster knows all your secrets."
Harry clenched his fists as Gates strode away, his scarlet robes fluttering as he easily parted a way through a thick gathering of Gryffindors. His instinct warned him that, whatever Gates learned about Neville, it would be devastating if it was released to the school; or worse, written about by Rita Skeeter.
Gazing halfheartedly around for Neville, knowing that he had already run off to the dormitories, Harry sat down again. There were no words he could give Neville to comfort him, no promises he could make to calm his violated mind. Some things had to be dealt with alone; and Harry hoped deeply that Neville was strong enough to overcome the attack.
"Harry?" a soft voice behind him said timidly, "Are you ready? You look ill." Harry turned and saw it was Hermione.
"No, I'm fine," Harry lied, not meeting her eyes, "Just sleepy, that's all."
Hermione eyed Gates, who had now returned to his corner, suspiciously. "I noticed Mr. Gates coming back from you. He knocked one of my books off of my table on the way."
"Sorry; he's just being himself," Harry replied, "Let's go and see Dobby. We can pretend Gates is not even there."
"It isn't your fault Gates is nasty," She grabbed his arm and pulled him up out of the seat. "We can go now; I just finished my studying." Hermione walked briskly towards the portrait hole, with Harry falling slightly behind. The grogginess from his nap had not quite vanished yet.
Suddenly, Hermione hesitated. "Should we bring the cloak? This is past curfew, after all."
"No, Gates will be with us, and I doubt we will be able to slip the cloak on and leave him behind without him noticing. Not at this point, anyway, and with him watching my every move. We would have to go up to the boy's dormitory and put it on; and he would not overlook us not coming back down. Besides, I don't want him to know about the cloak yet. You never know when we might need it."
"You're probably right," Hermione said, blushing, "He'll just have to keep up." She continued leading Harry towards the portrait hole. "I know a few secret passageways, so I don't think we will have to worry about Filch or Mrs. Norris."
"Where's Ron?" Harry asked vaguely, checking the common room for the familiar freckled face.
"Oh, he's out flying around the Quidditch field, I suppose," Hermione answered indifferently, "You know, since that's his thing."
They stepped through the portrait hole and Harry was about to mention that Quidditch was his 'thing' too when a squeaky voice said his name.
"Harry Potter sir!" Dobby said excitedly, bouncing out nowhere, "All is ready! House-elves worked twice as strong when Dobby told them the great Harry Potter and the great Harry Potter's best friend and the great Harry Potter's third possible friend was coming!"
"Great Dobby!" Harry said with a hint of worry. He privately hoped that there was not a massive feast waiting for them in the kitchens; that would seem to defeat the purpose of S.P.E.W.
Hermione, thinking along those same lines, said "Maybe some of your friends would want to join us Dobby? We would love to meet them."
Dobby's ears fell a little. "Oh, no! Not with so much work to be done Miss! Even now, Dobby must clean out the second floor bathrooms before he can come meet you!" With that, he sprinted lightly down the hall and disappeared.
"That was, err," Hermione was at a loss for words, "Spontaneous."
Harry grinned. "That's Dobby. His brain operated on an entirely different plane." He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder to see if Gates had followed. To his consternation, Gates had not overlooked his absence and was standing stiffly in the frame of the portrait.
"So where exactly are we going? A nighttime stroll, I imagine?" Gates said, his smile anything but benign. Evidently, he chose the time Harry acknowledged his presence to begin his series of insults.
"Something like that," Hermione replied scathingly. Harry widened his eyes at her, taken aback by her daring.
Gates took a step forward, eyes flashing and no longer bothering to feign friendliness. "And you understand that I have the power to deny you this privilege, correct?"
"And you understand that I have the right to tell you to sod off, correct?" Hermione shot back. If this situation had not been so serious, Harry would have been on the floor laughing.
Gates chose not to respond, appearing rather stunned, and Hermione turned her back to him.
"You realize you shouldn't be provoking him like that, Hermione," Harry whispered seriously, "He isn't above murder."
Hermione smiled mischievously. "If there is one thing good most pure blood families share," she began, "Its their devout sense of honor. He wouldn't hurt a defenseless girl; especially a muggle-born one. That would be like killing a unicorn to him."
"All he needs is a reason, Hermione…" Harry said, letting his voice trail off.
"By the way," Hermione continued, dropping her voice, "I practically raked through every book in the library today in search of something similar to that...man's necklace."
"And what did you find?"
"Nothing. Not a single mention of anything like that necklace in the entire library. In fact, I don't think I've ever read about anything even remotely like that necklace."
Harry snuck a short glance behind him to ensure that they were not being overheard. "So that means its in the Restricted Section."
Hermione nodded. "But I won't be able to get a professor's permission to go back there."
"Any ideas on what it is?" Harry asked vaguely, finding the masonry along the corridors fascinating.
"You said you saw faces of Death Eaters? Maybe its a master control string. Something Voldemort uses to keep tabs on all his Death Eaters."
"But that's what the Dark Mark is for, isn't it?"
"Yes, but suppose he wants someone else to keep tabs on them as well," Hermione said, raising her eyebrow. "Give it to someone who would be within Hogwarts all year. Someone who will be near you."
Harry was aghast. "Then Gates could be coordinating something right in Hogwarts and no one would ever know."
"Precisely. But, of course, its all theory."
They continued their journey down to the kitchens, Gates flitting through the shadows noiselessly behind them. Though it was against the rules to be out so late at night, they had little fear of getting caught. Having the notorious Alexander Gates as an escort had its advantages; one of them being that Filch and Mrs. Norris would not come within thirty meters of him. Though passing paintings sometimes scolded them for being out, their lecture stopped abruptly when Gates's scarlet form came into view. In summary, Harry and Hermione encountered no one.
Morosely, Harry found his thoughts drifting to the upcoming events this week. His Occlumency lessons with Snape began Thursday, and Quidditch practice and tryouts were Wednesday. Not only that, but he had to decide when to restart the Defense Association. Neville's confidence needed a boost, and Harry hoped he could help during the D.A. meetings.
"Potter and the mudblood," drawled a voice from an adjoining hallway, "Out for some late night shagging? My, I think I might have to report this…"
"Malfoy…" growled Harry, reaching for his wand. Hermione stopped him with an elbow nudge.
"I would stop there, if I were you. Don't want to dig a deeper hole than the one you're in," Draco said coolly, "I doubt even Dumbledore could bail you out of that."
Harry took his hand away from his wand and pretended to straighten his robes. "Right, I think I am better off waiting to rub your face in the ground in the Dueling Club's tournament."
"You will have to wait awhile, then," Malfoy said. Harry noticed with satisfaction that Draco's eyes were focused on Gates. "The tournament won't begin until November," He pulled out a piece of parchment from his robes. "Now, back to business. Students in halls…one a prefect…" His quill scratched on the paper as he spoke, "Hermione 'the mudblood' Granger and Harry Potter. 'Course, I should leave out the nickname since this is official and all." He smirked and rolled the parchment up. Harry cast a swift glance towards Gates, and saw that the Hit Wizard was looking slightly amused, a small grin tugging at his face.
"Speaking of that, erm, insult you use far too often," Harry began, referring to 'mudblood', "How did the essay go? I heard Professor Snape was displeased with your original and forced you to write a second…and then tacked a detention along with it. Funny how your dad didn't save you there…"
Malfoy flushed and gritted his teeth. "Watch it, Potter. I told you before what would happen if you hung around with third class filth." He gestured to Hermione. "Remember the train in our first year? This time there will be full circle."
Harry heard a soft chuckle coming from the darkness and knew Gates must be enjoying this. "Is that all Malfoy? Or do you want to hide behind your prefect status some more?" Hermione prodded him urgently in the side with her hand but Harry ignored it. He needed to bait Malfoy…
"You think I need this?" Draco demanded furiously, "I don't need it Potter," He tore apart the scroll of parchment into halves, then fourths. Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I can mess you and your mudblood girlfriend bad. You think you're so powerful? I learned some real curses and hexes over the summer Potter. They don't turn water to ice or make stuff levitate, but they can rip a man in two. Just wait. If I meet you or the mudblood-"
"I think, Mr. Malfoy, that more detention and ten points from Slytherin would work wonders for your tongue," Snape, clothed head to toe in black robes, placed his hand roughly on Draco's shoulder. Malfoy froze instantly. "And as for Potter and Miss Granger, I will be reporting the both of them to the headmaster. After, of course, I deduct twenty points from Gryffindor house for wandering the halls this late. I know for a fact Gryffindor prefects have no duties tonight, so I will be reporting this excursion to Professor McGonagall with my recommendations that she review your prefect status, Miss Granger." Hermione looked shocked, but said nothing.
"What are you doing in the corridors at this late hour, Severus?" Gates asked, his voice tempered with accusation. Snape whirled around and Harry saw the thick muscles in his shoulders become tense under his starched robe.
"My business is my own, Alexander," Snape replied in a cold and controlled tone, "And I suggest that you keep a wary eye on Potter, as he has an incurable tendency to wander around the castle past curfew."
"I'm afraid my opinion of what's dangerous is the only one that counts, so refrain from sticking your exceptionally long nose into my affairs." Gates finished coolly. Snape glowered but did not reply.
Harry chose this time to speak out. "Sir it was my idea-"
"Silence Potter," said Snape softly, not showing any hint of anger, "If you don't want to make it worse for yourself. Both of you return to bed; I have some lessons in language that I need to pass on to Mr. Malfoy." Snape practically dragged Malfoy away from them by the arm.
"Maybe Snape is becoming nicer," Harry said, stunned, "I think he was almost fair right then."
"Hardly," Hermione said absently, "Professor McGonagall will be so disappointed in me…"
"No she won't. We got in loads of trouble before; this is nothing. Besides, who's she going to replace the most brilliant witch in the school with?"
Hermione blushed. "I guess S.P.E.W. will have to wait," she said, "Since Professor Snape ordered us back to the common room."
"We can't leave Dobby!" Harry said with mock outrage, "Not after him and the house-elves are waiting for us. We can still go."
"But Professor Snape…" Hermione glanced around quickly.
"…Is not here…"
Hermione laughed. "Fine, but we're going another way." She stepped towards an ornate tapestry that hung down a nearby wall, and, after tugging at a loose thread, the entire carpet rolled up into the ceiling, revealing a dimly lit corridor. Harry peered down into it; following the right wall until it wound its way out of sight.
"This passageway should take us to the kitchen corridor. Not many people know about this, and I tend to reserve it for special occasions." Hermione said matter-of-factly.
Harry recognized the hidden corridor instantly from the Marauder's Map, though he had never used it before. One could not be expected to memorize every secret passageway in Hogwarts, after all. The two of them walked through it together, Gates lazily trailing behind them.
"Merlin, what's with Gates and Snape?" Harry muttered, not really expecting an answer, "Gates is having a go at Snape every chance he gets."
"You remember Sirius's third favor, don't you?" Hermione said quietly, "Gates is just drawing Snape out. Obviously, Gates can't just go and attack Snape outright; that would be dishonorable. He's trying to force Snape to request a formal duel."
Harry chuckled softly into the musty air. "Honorable, evil, and insane. Some qualities just don't make any sense together."
"But he said something to you in the common room today, didn't he? I saw him walk away from you."
Harry hesitated, then decided to tell her. "He probed Neville's mind using Legilimency. Whatever Gates saw, it made Neville run away like the devil himself was after him."
"He's so cruel." Hermione said sadly.
Harry furrowed his brow at a sudden thought. "But he let us out here tonight, though I can't figure out why."
Hermione frowned. "If it involves you possibly getting detention, he won't mind. Probably finds everything rather amusing, actually. Whatever his reason, it probably has nothing good to do with you."
Harry stole a glance behind him to see the object of their conversation drawing closer, his hand absently grazing the wall as he walked; the countless diamonds on his necklace glittering darkly. Just then, a brilliantly clear vision fired into his mind, sending him reeling to the ground, rubbing his burning forehead. Hermione instinctively grabbed him as he fell, trying to slow his descent. Gates positively dashed up from the rear, his eyes wide with alarm and his left hand clutching at his wand.
"What is it Potter?" Gates demanded, a smoldering fire in his eyes, "What did you see? What did you find in the Dark Lord's mind?"
Harry, however, ignored Gates. The image was seared into the inside of his skull; a picture of Antonin Dolohov's leering, sallow face staring out of a halo of white light; his eyes sunken and dark. His expression was contorted into one of suppressed enthusiasm; his lips curled back to reveal a row of sharp, pointed teeth. Swirling in one slow, arching circle, dust and fumes clouded and distorted the light. Lightning cracked, and Dolohov's face retreated into the background, leaving only the solid white halo of light; an eerie reminder of the visage that the circle had once framed.
"What news of the Dark Lord?" Gates snarled, shaking Harry violently. Hermione was slowly backing away, as though horrified that she was so utterly helpless against Gates's will.
"Get off!" Harry growled, trying to push himself out of Gates's grasp. "It was Dolohov! Voldemort was thinking about Dolohov! Now let go!" Gates released his grip and Harry leapt away. His forehead, once piercing and alive, was now calm and numb.
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and spun him around. "I thought you said the visions stopped?"
"They almost have. I barely have them once a week now." Harry said, not looking at her.
"Harry, just because they're infrequent doesn't make them less dangerous," she said, "You remember what I told you in my last letter?"
Harry shook his head. "Its nothing Hermione. Last year my scar hurt almost every day. Its improved…"
"That doesn't matter, don't you see?" Hermione said, her voice pleading, "That just means Voldemort is getting better at reading your emotions without you knowing it. He's becoming good at it, Harry, and if you are having fewer dreams, then Voldemort is just stopping you from entering his mind when he enters yours."
That thought never occurred to Harry. "I'll be having Occlumency lessons again soon," he said slowly, "It won't be as bad anymore."
Gates, who was standing aloof from them during the exchange, stirred out of his trance and said in a subtly condescending and overtly imperious voice, "If the Dark Lord is becoming better instead of worse, there is little you can do Potter. But when you have these…visions…you will report them to me. I shouldn't be too concerned with it yet; as thankfully there is nothing the Dark Lord can learn in that warped mind of yours." Gates added with a sneer.
"Always the optimist…" Harry muttered under his breath.
"We should go back." Hermione said, anxiety rising to her voice.
"No, I'm fine," Harry said, "Dobby's waiting for us."
Reluctantly, she continued with him down the winding passageway until they finally reached a dead end. Finding a loose thread poking out from a seam in the wall, Harry pulled gently and caused the wall to slide away; opening up to a long, empty corridor. Harry, through personal experience and some prior knowledge, recognized their position as only a short distance away from the portrait that held the bowl of fruit. Suddenly, he had an idea.
"Hermione come here," Harry whispered, motioning her to come closer. Looking slightly confused, she obeyed. "Go up ahead and open up the door to the kitchens; then go inside. Once your inside, hold the door open and call for me to come. Just trust me." He added, seeing her questioning expression.
Hermione nodded and strode down the corridor towards the painting. Hoping the plan will work smoothly, Harry casually walked back into the secret passageway and stood squarely in front of Gates. Gates narrowed his eyes.
"Is there a reason your standing there Potter?" Gates said slowly, "Has your brain been addled somehow? Move on, before I force you to." Slowly, his hand drifted towards his wand.
"Alright its open!" Hermione called.
Harry, pleased with the success so far, gave Gates a short bow before turning and dashing down the corridor and into the kitchens. Ignoring Hermione's startled expression, Harry slammed the secret kitchen door closed and heard Gates's muffled footfalls approach the portrait. The footsteps slowed, then stopped precisely on the other side of the door. Obviously, being a six and a half foot tall middle aged Professional Hit Wizard had its disadvantages when it came to speed.
"We got rid of him," Harry said, grinning, "I wish him luck in figuring out how to open up that door, though."
"Potter," said Gates through the wall. Though the voice was distorted, there was no mistaking the venom and malice it contained. "I would advise for your future benefit that you open this door. You may think my presence here gives you some sort of opportunity to play hide and seek. Fun and games and all that. Potter," There was a distinct thud on the wall; Harry guessed it was caused from a fist smashing heavily into the painting. Gates's voice was becoming steadily louder and more vicious. "There is little time for this nonsense. Understand? You believe I enjoy mindlessly following you around like some sort of zealot? Do you see? You still think I am wasting my time by choice? I promise you, Potter, you will be regretting this. Understand? When I am through with this meaningless task, I will return to you the favor your dirty son-of-a-bitch godfather bestowed upon me. Do you see yet, Potter?" Gates slammed his fists once more against the wall before Harry heard him stalk away, his heavy footfalls slowly fading as the distance widened.
Harry shook his head, feeling greatly disturbed. "Forget him for now, he's positively raving." he said. Hermione's face was drained of color. He suddenly regretted his rashness, and knew he would be paying for it later, but at the moment he shrugged it off. Gates's rants were nothing new to him. "He goes on like that all the time, don't worry about him. See now? We have all the time we want to tour the kitchens together."
Some of the color returned to her face. She smiled hesitantly.
"Dobby?" Harry said aloud. Instantly, twelve house-elves appeared in front of him, bearing plates of leftover food from dinner. Dobby was not among them. "Dobby are you here?"
"Dobby is here, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby came bounding through the kitchen, wearing his usual towering stack of elf hats and countless layers of mismatched socks. "Dobby is sorry he is late! Dobby only finished cleaning the bathroom less than a moment ago!"
Harry frowned. "How did you get down here so quickly then?"
Hermione was about to answer but Dobby interrupted. "Dobby and other house-elves have passages throughout Hogwarts they can use to get around the school without attracting attention! Only house-elves of Dumbledore can use them!"
"If you read Hogwarts: A History, you would know." Hermione said, shrugging, "So Dobby could you please show us around the kitchens?"
Dobby nodded his head enthusiastically, his stack of hats wobbling dangerously. "Dobby would love to, sir and Miss!" Dobby began skipping into the depths of the kitchen as though he had been looking forward to this for a long time.
"After you," Harry said, amused by Dobby's zeal. Hermione laughed and went ahead.
Dobby halted by a long, shiny stone counter and gestured widely to his surroundings. "This is where house-elves make all the food for young masters in Hogwarts! Miss wanted to see Winky today and Winky is here cleaning up from dinner!" he bounded over to a house-elf who was currently furiously cleaning dishes, standing on a small stool and scrubbing a wooden bowl. "Winky! Harry Potter and Harry Potter's best friend is here and wants to see you!" Dobby gave them his best toothy grin.
"Hello Harry Potter sir!" Winky said, turning away from the sink. Her skirt and blouse was spotless and pressed; and Harry believed that he had never seen her so happy. "Winky has been wanting to see you sir and Miss!"
"Have you been doing good Winky? Are you feeling better?" Hermione asked, timidly approaching Winky as though she could not quite believe her eyes.
"Winky is feeling much better Miss thanks you!" said Winky gleefully, "Dobby made Winky remember that she must not be so sad when so much work needs to be done!" Winky beamed at Dobby and he beamed back. "Dobby and Winky are very, very good friends!"
"Dobby and Winky are very, very, very good friends!" echoed Dobby, who was bouncing up and down excitedly.
Hermione, who was evidently not satisfied with this answer, recovered quickly when she saw the exchange between Dobby and Winky. "That's wonderful to hear! Did Dobby give you any hats or socks?"
Winky's smile faltered slightly. "Winky does not need such things." There was an awkward pause, and Dobby glanced around nervously. "Winky must get back to cleaning dishes! There is so much to do until morning!" She whirled around on her stool and immediately continued washing the stack of plates.
"Do you want us to meet some of your other friends Dobby?" Hermione said, not allowing Winky's refusal to take clothes to stop the rest of the evening.
"Dobby does not know other house-elves! With so much work to be done, Dobby does not have time," said Dobby, his ears flapping up and down as he shook his head vigorously, "Why Dobby does not even know many of other house-elves' names!"
Hermione frowned, apparently troubled by the lack of social time allotted to house-elves. "But don't you talk to them at all?"
"No time and so many faces! Come sir and Miss, Dobby will show you the rest of the kitchens!"
Dobby merrily led them around the spacious kitchens; weaving his way through masses of house-elves who automatically bowed when Harry and Hermione came within view. Though Harry had been in the kitchens several times before, he had never knew how massive the room was or the sheer number of house-elves who busily toiled there. There were rows and rows of polished stone tables; with surfaces that shone brightly from the flames in the roaring fireplaces. Dobby became more and more excited as they continued; probably feeling that it was a great honor to give Harry and Hermione a complete tour of the place where he had worked for the past few years.
Dobby was waving enthusiastically towards a gigantic oven when Hermione slipped next to Harry and whispered "So what do you think was going on between Winky and Dobby?"
Harry laughed despite himself. "I dunno. They were very, erm, friendly."
"Did you see the way they looked at each other? I thought it was sweet…"
Suddenly Dobby spun around and beamed up at them. "Dobby has finished showing Harry Potter and Harry Potter's best friend around the kitchen as he was happy to do!" Dobby paused, and started to stare frantically around, his ears dropping slightly. "But Dobby was told there would be three guests for house-elves to serve?" he added, turning the statement into a question.
"He got held up," said Harry instantly, "He really wanted to come but we had other plans."
"Dobby is sorry he could not server a third young master but never mind! Dobby will show you to food now." He apparently missed the subtle switch in pronouns in Harry's excuse.
Dobby brought them to a lone, round table in a quiet corner of the kitchens that was flanked by two grinning house-elves with cloth napkins draped over their arms. Harry thought Dobby was getting the wrong idea when he saw that the table was graced by a white linen table cloth and a single tall candle in the center; the light intentionally set low. Soft music played in the background.
"Uhh, Dobby," Harry stuttered. Hermione was overcome with a fit of giggles. The house-elf's easy smile momentarily faltered when it became evident that Harry was not completely satisfied with the dining arrangements. "Dobby I think-"
"He's just being sweet," said Hermione, recovering, "Everything's fine Dobby. Thank you for showing us around the kitchens."
Dobby bowed deeply and pulled out both chairs, allowing them to sit down. When they were both seated, Dobby informed them that their meals will be out shortly and then bowed again as he retreated from view.
"He's such a nice house-elf," Hermione said, her eyes following Dobby as he left, "I can't believe he could be so kind after all those years with the Malfoy's."
"Too bad they all can't be like him," said Harry absently, not really aware of what he said before it came out. His arms tensed without him realizing it.
Hermione frowned sympathetically. "I understand; but it wasn't Kreacher's fault that he turned out the way he did. You never know what tomorrow may bring; Kreacher may be redeemed someday."
"Yes, that's true," Harry said though he heartily disagreed. Wanting to change the subject to a less sensitive area, he said, "So what are your plans with S.P.E.W.? When will the first meeting be?"
"I'm not sure yet; I want to get at least ten people signed up before I start the meetings," she said brightly, "So I may not hold a meeting until next week or the week after."
He let her continue talking aloud her dreams about what S.P.E.W. could be, becoming more and more absorbed in their conversation as it continued. When Dobby came to set down their food, a delicious roast chicken breast with freshly cooked parsley potatoes and salad, Harry barely noticed its arrival and listened intently to Hermione's ideas for activities and fundraising. Sometimes, he added an occasional comment or question, which she met with great enthusiasm. She seemed pleased that she finally had someone to relate all of her ideas to.
The nearby house-elves, apart from ceremoniously filling their glasses with drink, stood silently nearby, eyes locked forward. Harry continually tried to get an impression off of either of them regarding how they felt about Club S.P.E.W., but the house-elves took their duty very seriously and never reacted to any of Hermione's statements; some of which would be considered heresy among the workaholic house-elves. Dobby had obviously chosen their waiters with great care.
Eventually, the conversation turned to the D.A. and Harry found himself avidly discussing a meeting this Wednesday. He strongly desired to have the D.A. on its feet by this week, and holding it an hour after Quidditch practice seemed like a good idea. It would easily give them enough time to rejuvenate their power from last year. Once Hermione agreed that Wednesday would be perfect, Harry made a mental note to set the date on his galleon whenever he returned to the dormitories. Whoever still had their coin would undoubtedly tell the others who had lost theirs and word would spread; hopefully without recruiting new wizards. Harry still felt adamant about keeping the D.A. secret for now.
When the candle burned down to a small stump, and both of their plates were clean of food, Dobby and the two flanking house-elves swept away the dishes and vanished. Dobby returned some time later, bowing again and saying very formally that they were welcome to the kitchen at any time, and that the house-elf staff would be pleased to serve such honorable young masters again.
Harry and Hermione stood up from their seats and walked slowly to the door, their conversation concerning the new clubs never ceasing. Finally stopping by the hidden door that led to the main corridor, Harry turned to Hermione and began stammering. He felt that there was something he should be doing, but he was not quite sure exactly what; Hermione was blinking her eyes rapidly. Before he had more time to ponder this, however, the door panel swung open to reveal Gates and Snape standing side by side; Gates appearing particularly furious.
"So its true then," said Snape quietly, "You disobeyed my orders and went on your…excursion anyway."
"Potter I warned you," said Gates, his voice terrifyingly controlled, "D'you see now?" He took a step forward.
Snape sneered with grim pleasure. "I will leave you two with Alexander. I daresay he will have something to discuss or impress upon you. I will just…step outside for a moment and when I return I will determine the official punishments for this violation." He turned around on one heel and made to leave, but Gates suddenly spoke.
"No, Severus. I will deal with Potter alone. Get out of here, girl. This is the second time you've been caught with Potter and you should hope there isn't a third. My generosity is thinning. Out. Now."
Hermione hesitated; about to argue. Harry gently ushered her to leave and she reluctantly complied. She joined Snape and left, throwing him once last glance before disappearing from view. Distantly, he heard Snape promising her that he would have her prefect badge by tomorrow morning.
Harry expected to be hit, or grabbed and tossed across the room like a rag doll. Instead, Gates simply stared at him appraisingly. After a minute, he said slowly and carefully, his voice much more frightening than it would have been had he shouted outright, "You begin to vex me, Potter. I don't believe you comprehend the seriousness of the situation you are in. Wizards without a magical bond protecting them would have been severely physically injured at this point; I do not suffer insults lightly. But because of a series of unfortunate incidents beyond my control, I do not have that happy power. Not yet," Gates paused in mid-thought. "I am unsure of your reasons for performing such a moronic feat, but you will be punished for it. I assure you that. It will be soon." His eyes glowed menacingly, and he pulled back his lips to reveal a row of sharp, pointed teeth. It was a curiously savage gesture.
"What are you planning to do?" said Harry bravely; more bravely than he felt, anyway.
Gates's voice became more icy and flat than Harry had thought possible. "You may think that physical punishment awaits you? No, that is dreadfully monotonous. Don't concern yourself with my plans; just be aware that they exist." His eyes surveyed Harry again, bringing the impression of a hawk eyeing its prey before the final, swift swoop and kill.
Harry had wondered for a long time why Gates and Snape were so strangely different. Now, he understood. While Snape exhibited an broad, obtuse viciousness that stung his skin, Gates produced an acute, subtle venom that he would use to psychologically undermine his enemies; and Gates paced with a cool aura of terror and superiority radiating from him, feeding off the fear of the people around him. Gates was strong and powerful, Harry never questioned that, but the unique trait Gates possessed was in his artistic sadism. He painted and sculpted his victims like canvas or clay; molding them all to reflect his inner self. All those years of lone vengeance had truly created a monster; a shell of a man who needed to fill himself on the demons of others. Harry shivered.
"And Potter, I advise you to keep the girl away from you," Gates continued, eyes burning, "Do not force me to do anything I would normally consider dishonorable. I wish to keep my family name untainted, but I am, as you say, a monster." As he said that, his necklace glittered and flashed, daring him.
At that exact moment, Harry saw that the necklace was not really a necklace, but an extended jaw with rows of white, gleaming crystalline teeth. He could not understand why he had not seen it before; it seemed so obvious now. The mouth, opening in an empty void of deep scarlet. Harry gaped, recoiling at the sight. Stronger than ever, the voices from the necklace called to him, their screams and shrieks echoing in his mind. The teeth shimmered and the circular, open jaw grinned at him.
As quickly as it had started, Gates whirled around and strode out of the open doorway, the necklace vanishing with a small smirk. Harry shook his head, not understanding what just took place and not wanting to understand.
(A/N: There it is, so close yet so far. I hope no one was disappointed. I can't reveal everything about the necklace/bracelet/etc all at once, can I? And before I get bombarded with people saying how there are contradictions and flaws at the end of this chapter with Gates etc, I ask you to wait until chapter 7. And I hope everyone found my Hagrid dialogue bearable. Comments/criticisms/something you want to see more of/Something you want to see less of? Email or post a review; this story is very flexible.
The next chapter will probably come out this weekend or Monday; don't know which. It's probably going to end up getting split in half into two separate ones. (If I don't split it, it's going to turn out to be 16000+ words and that will force me to hastiness, and that's a bad thing)
In the next chapter, you can definitely expect: Some elaboration on what the hell happened at the end of chapter 6 for those who are a bit confused, Snape finds out about Sirius's third request, Gates takes something of Harrys', and Gates makes good on his threats by getting seriously mean. It won't be the happiest of chapters, but its definitely going to be original.)