Author's Note: Thanks everyone for the reviews! I appreciate it. Once again, thanks also go out to Charmaine for betaing this. Merci!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ALL HALLOW'S EVE
Voldemort's riddle haunted Harry for the following week. He had woken up in the Hospital Wing, Ron and Hermione by his side. Dumbledore joined them shortly afterwards, asking Ron and Hermione to excuse them for a moment. In private, he notified Harry that he had sent Moody out to raise the alarm, while Lupin was gathering the Order members within the walls of the castle.
"What did you see, Harry?" Dumbledore had asked.
Harry explained how he saw the burning houses in Keswick and Voldemort's reflection in a mirror. He neglected to tell Dumbledore, however, about the riddle. Voldemort had said not to tell anyone. Harry shuddered to think what Voldemort would do if Harry disobeyed him.
Suddenly, Dumbledore's warning to him about becoming Voldemort's weapon came back to him. It was true. Voldemort was using him.
As soon as he was released by Madam Pomfrey, Harry immediately went to the library. He didn't know what to look up. Voldemort's riddle seemed so odd, talking about farms, forests, and gardens. That could have been anywhere, Harry realized.
After one week of searching, his frustration was growing larger and larger. He was in a deserted corner of the library, staring at a book of the geography of Great Britain, when Hermione sat down next to him.
"So," she said, "if I tell you what I've been working on will you tell me what you're working on?"
"Huh?" he said, starled. One glance at her face told him that she was concerned about him. "I'm fine, Hermione, don't worry."
"Harry," she said calmly, "you had a horrible vision last week that resulted with you staying in the Hospital Wing overnight. Ever since then you've been in here every chance you get, forgetting to do your homework, and you've skipped two Quidditch practices. Ron's actually quite annoyed at you, but you've been too busy to notice. What's going on?"
"I thought you were going to tell me what you've been up to first," Harry said, flipping a page.
She sighed and placed a folded slip of parchment on the table. "I hope you'll find that adequate for your broom."
He stared at her for a moment before taking the slip of paper and unfolding it.
Penna Madidus
"Penna Madidus?"
She nodded. "Try it on the Phoenix. It's the best I could come up with."
"Then it's perfect. I'll make sure the charm is in place before the first Quidditch match of the season," Harry said.
"Will you even play at the first Quidditch match of the season? The way you've been going, Ron fears that you won't and that he's going to have to find a new Seeker," Hermione said.
His head snapped toward her. "Find a new Seeker? Since when did he become captain?"
"Since you stopped showing up to practice," she said evenly. "Harry-what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he said.
"Really?" she asked, her tone skeptical.
"Yes."
"Then why is this vibrating?" she asked, pulling the charmed pager she had given him for his birthday out of her pocket.
"Where'd you get that?" he demanded.
"I had Ron nick it out of your trunk. I'm sorry you're not getting a great deal of use out of it," she said sadly.
He frowned. "I forgot to put it in my pocket today. Hell, I've been forgetting a lot of things this week, as you've pointed out." He rested his elbows on the table and let his head fall into his hands. "I've got a big problem, Hermione," he admitted.
She scooted closer to him. "What is it, Harry? How can I help?"
"You can't, that's just it, Hermione," he said. "You're not allowed."
"I beg your pardon?"
He pointed to his scar. "He told me that nobody can help me."
Her breath hitched. "Voldemort talked to you?"
"When he showed me the Keswick attack."
"My God. Harry-what did he say?"
He frowned. "He told me that he's going to attack another town in two-now one-week and then gave me a riddle to figure out so that I can try to save it. But I can't figure it out."
She looked down at the book he was searching through. "Forests?"
"I can't talk about it," he said. "And I do need help. It would be so much easier if I knew what those two damn words meant."
"Can you write them down?" she asked.
He stared at her. "He'll know."
She sighed impatiently at him. "Harry, for God's sake, aren't you learning Occlumency? Can't you use it against him so he won't be able to read your mind?"
"I have to be void of emotion to utilize it against him, Hermione," he said, feeling agitated. "Right now I'm really stressed out."
She leaned forward and hugged him. Before she pulled back, she added a small kiss on his cheek. "You need to see Dumbledore. You have to tell him. He can help you."
"I probably have done a great deal of damage by just mentioning it to you." He closed his eyes and groaned. "Please don't tell me I've just killed scores of people."
She grabbed hold of him by the shoulders and shook him. "Harry, stop it. You have to go see Dumbledore."
"I can't. He'll know. He'll turn whatever town he's attacking next into rubble. I need to figure this out on my own," he said vehemently.
She sighed. "Fine."
"If only I knew what those words meant though!" he snarled and slammed the geography book closed.
"Have you tried looking them up?" she asked.
He gave her an annoyed look. "Yes, Hermione, I'm not that stupid."
"I didn't mean to imply that," she said defensively, but then sat back. "I assume you checked in an English dictionary?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever consider that whatever your two words are aren't English?" she asked.
"Yes."
"So you've tried alternate dictionaries…translation guides?"
"It's kind of hard when I don't know what language the two words are in," Harry said.
"It could be Gaelic, Welsh…or perhaps it is English, but Old English, or Middle English," she said. "You could try looking there."
He sighed. "I could," he conceded. "Tell Ron I'll be at the next practice on Wednesday, I promise. And by that time I will have tried out this little charm you've found-where did you find it anyway?"
"I didn't find it. I-er-created it," she said, her cheeks turning pink.
"Created it?"
"Well, yes. All of those other Cushioning Charms had patents on them so I figured maybe I could try to create one on my own. I spent a lot of time researching and when I finally thought I had the right combination, I tested it."
"On what?"
"On one of my larger books," she said, her cheeks becoming a cherry red now.
"And?"
"And I was able to sit on it for over three hours while doing my homework," she said. "Then I was done."
"So you think this will work on a broomstick?" he asked her.
"I hope it does."
"I bet it will," he said, giving her a lopsided smile.
"Time will tell."
"It sure will," he said and then sighed. "Listen, give me about another hour down here and then I'll come and join you and Ron in the common room. It sounds like a have a bit of homework to catch up on. I'm lucky it's the weekend."
"You sure are, although a few assignments were due last week. I'd get those done first and hope the professors will allow you to turn them in," she advised.
"I will. See you later," he said.
"Good luck." She kissed his cheek one more time and left him there, once again flipping through the geography book, his sense of purpose renewed.
*****
For the next two days, Harry cut back on his research, determined to get his homework done and to catch up in class. On Tuesday, Harry had to confront Dumbledore. Since it was his Occlumency week, he wondered how long he could keep Dumbledore from knowing about Voldemort's riddle. Did he even want to try? After all, it wouldn't be his fault if Dumbledore forced the information out of him, would it?
Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, Harry couldn't decide), Dennis Creevey gave him a note during lunch from Dumbledore stating that he would not be able to give Harry lessons that evening. It would give Harry more time to do research.
"You do have an essay you have to finish, though," Hermione reminded him.
He groaned. "How am I supposed to figure out this damn riddle if I'm preoccupied by something as insignificant as homework?" he asked her.
She frowned. "I would never call homework 'insignificant,' but I do understand your priorities. In fact, you do have them in the right order, but Harry, it's Potions. Snape won't allow you to turn in anything late."
He sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll do the Potions essay and then continue researching."
He absolutely hated the essay. He was far too distracted to make coherent sentences and in the end, he crumpled up his parchment and threw it into the fire in disgust.
"Blimey, mate," Ron said as he watched Harry take his quill pen and stab it viciously into the table. "Take it easy. It's just an essay."
"It's the most insane, asinine essay Snape's ever given us," Harry said testily. "He's a complete and utter moron."
"That we all know," Ron said. "Still, I don't think you can afford to not turn in another assignment. McGonagall's furious with you, y'know."
"Yeah, some Head Boy I'm turning out to be," he muttered. "Maybe Dumbledore was right."
"About what?"
"That I couldn't handle the burden. That's why he didn't make me prefect and that's why he hesitated on making me Head Boy." He sighed. "I didn't want him to be right, but I think he is."
Ron studied him carefully before shaking his head. "Nah, he isn't right. In fact, I think he's absolutely, completely wrong. You handle stress better than anyone I know, mate. Sure you can be sort of a prat when you are stressed out, but I think anybody who had to deal with the amount of stress you deal with on a daily basis would kill themselves."
Harry glanced sideways at him. "Gee, thanks, Ron."
Ron held up his hands. "Don't get me wrong, Harry, I'm trying to compliment you. There's a sort of-I dunno-strength about you that makes you hold on and keep plugging away at things with the hope that it'll all get better. That's what makes so many people look up to you, mate, including," he added in a whisper, "that girl you're dating that just so happens to be our best friend."
"I think she's annoyed with me," Harry mumbled.
"Hermione? Why? Over the scary You-Know-Who thing?"
"She told you?"
He shrugged. "When she can't talk to you, she talks to me, which is scary in and of itself. I don't know how you do it, Harry, having nice, pleasant, meaningful conversations with her. Every time she and I talk we end up bickering over something stupid and trivial."
Harry laughed. "I think it would be weird if you two didn't bicker." He sighed and glanced down at his Potions book and took out another sheet of parchment. "Thanks, Ron. I'm feeling a bit better now."
*****
Wednesday afternoon found Harry back in the library, only this time he was standing before Madam Pince, the stern librarian.
"I need to see all of our dictionaries that deal with Old and Middle English," he told her when she glanced up at him.
She looked at him suspiciously. "Why?"
"History of Magic essay," he lied.
She eyed him closely. Harry began to wonder if she was a Legilimens. Finally, she got up and said, "Follow me."
She gave him two different Middle English dictionaries and one battered Old English to Modern English translation guide. "That's all I have, Potter, and they're reference material, so don't ask me if you can take it out of the library."
"No, ma'am," he said and sat down at the nearest table. "Thank you."
She walked away stiffly as Harry flipped open the translation guide first and looked for the word "Afon." Five minutes into his search, Ron walked into the library, spotted him, and joined him at his table.
"Hey," Ron said, looking down at the book. "What the bloody hell are you reading?"
"Translation guide," Harry muttered. "What are you here for?"
"Oh, I'm just here to remind you that you told Hermione to tell me that you promised to come to practice today, which is in fifteen minutes," Ron said cheerfully.
Harry looked up at him. "Damn."
Ron shrugged. "You did promise and, between you and me, it's not good for team morale if their captain doesn't show up for practice."
"No, no, I know. You're right." He sighed and got up. "I just have to do one thing first."
"What's that?" Ron asked.
"Tweak my broom."
Ron gave him a sardonic look. "Does that mean you've got to go take a piss or do something more…interesting?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Get your head out of the bloody gutter, Weasley."
Ron's roar of laughter caused Madam Pince to glare at them. He lowered his laugh to a chuckle. "Okay, okay, what did you really mean?" he asked as they left.
"Hermione thinks she's been able to create a new Cushioning Charm to help the Phoenix and I told her I'd try it out," he told Ron.
"Wicked, although it will be a pity if it works-you won't walk funny after practice."
"Very true," Harry said. "What's got you in such a good mood, anyway?"
"Saturday is our first Hogsmeade weekend and then afterward is the Halloween feast. I dunno about you, but I can't wait to see what the house-elves whip up for us this year," Ron said, licking his lips eagerly.
"Oh," Harry said, thinking about the riddle and dreading the day. On Halloween, another town would turn to dust.
Upon returning to the boys' dorm, Harry quickly grabbed the Phoenix and, with a wave of his wand, had it hovering before him.
"Okay, so what's the spell Hermione wanted you to try on it?" Ron asked.
Harry searched around his trunk for the little slip of paper she had given him. When he found it, he glanced at the words before breathing in deeply. "Let's hope this works," he muttered to Ron, who nodded.
Holding his wand aloft, he gave it a quick wave before yelling, "Penna Madidus!" An odd greenish blue shot out from his wand and covered the broomstick, then hung about it like a strange fog. Harry and Ron glanced at each other before eyeing it warily.
"Er-Harry?"
"I don't know."
Slowly, the fog faded away and the broomstick fell. Harry walked over and picked it up gingerly. He examined the shaft and the twigs, making sure everything looked okay with it.
"Er-Maybe you should take your Firebolt with you, just in case," Ron said.
Harry nodded in agreement and grabbed his trusty broomstick-the one that he knew worked.
Down on the pitch, the team greeted Harry rather jovially even though he had been absent for several practices.
"Look!" Alex McGuire cried. "The prodigal son has returned!"
"Ha, ha, very funny, McGuire," Andrew Kirke said, eyeing Harry shrewdly. "So, where've you been, Captain?"
"Working on a large project," Harry said.
"What kind of a project?" Kirke asked.
"Is it any of your business?" Ron asked snidely. "Harry's very devoted to the Quidditch team. If he's had to skip practice to work on a project, then it must be very important, and that's all you need to know. Now come on, you lot, let's practice!"
Harry gave Ron a look of thanks. Obviously, in his time away, Ron had become quite an effective substitute.
Harry mounted the Phoenix and kicked off with the rest of the team. They immediately started to do drills. Ginny would throw the Quaffle to Hunter, who would launch it far up the field to Natalie McDonald, their new Chaser, who would throw it sideways to Ginny, who finally attempted to score against Ron. Then they would switch who got to take the "killing blow" as Harry thought of it, simply due to the way all of them tried to plow it past Ron. Harry nodded in approval. There wasn't a hint of rust on the team, which was good considering their upcoming match against Slytherin. The greatest effort seemed to be from Natalie, who had improved quite a bit since the tryouts. Harry was proud of her.
After some more shooting and passing drills, Harry called for what he called a dodging drill, which was basically him letting the Beaters chase everyone, himself included, trying to unseat them with the Bludgers. Not only was it great practice for the Beaters, it was just downright fun. Harry laughed as a Bludger zoomed past his ear, grinning back at McGuire and yelling, "You'll have to try better than that!"
For Harry, the two hours he spent at practice had been the greatest stress reliever of the week. For two hours he didn't think about Voldemort or the war, homework, training, or his duties. He felt carefree. He felt free.
When practice ended, he couldn't stop beaming. "That was a fantastic practice! I'm really proud of all of you. You're doing great! Slytherin better watch out because in a few weeks, we're going to wipe the floor with them."
His six teammates cheered and followed him into the locker room. Ron came over and patted him on the shoulder. "Good to have you back, Captain. How did the Phoenix do? You don't look like you're walking bowlegged."
"Because I'm not," Harry said happily and then lowered his voice. "Remind me to snog Hermione senseless. She's a genius."
Ron's cheeks reddened. "Just don't do it in the common room for everyone to see, okay?"
"Of course not," he replied with a wink as he changed back into his regular clothes. "Broom cupboards are much cozier."
Ron blanched. "They are?"
Harry laughed at him. "I was just kidding, Ron."
"Oh. Sorry."
Harry shook his head. "Come on, let's go to the Great Hall. They should be serving dinner any minute."
Ron grinned and started for the door. "Last one there's a rotten dragon egg!"
Laughing once again, he took off after the redhead.
*****
The next morning, Harry began to feel frantic. He hadn't figured out Voldemort's riddle yet and Halloween was only two days away! If he didn't figure it out soon, who knows how many people would be killed.
Hermione seemed to understand his distress. She said absolutely nothing when he declared before breakfast that he wasn't going to his classes until he solved the riddle. He was going to skip meals, skip everything until he succeeded. Hermione showed her support by sneaking in breakfast for him in the library before she ran off for class.
By the evening, Harry sat weary-eyed, searching through a Celtic language translation guide. Ron and Hermione joined him after dinner, sneaking in a small chunk of roast beef and two dinner rolls.
"I'm sorry that's all we could get you," Hermione whispered.
"It's okay," Harry said, tearing into one of the dinner rolls. "I just simply appreciate the food."
"How are you coming?" she asked.
"Not well," he muttered. He flipped to a Welsh translation guide. "I've been searching everywhere-Old English, Middle English, Scots Gaelic, Irish Gaelic…if it's not in the Welsh portion of this translation guide, I'm going to try Dutch next."
"We'll let you get back to it, then," she said. "Oh, and Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"I've got your homework for you, plus notes that you can copy," she said.
He gave her a small smile. "Thank you."
"And I'll just let you copy my homework," Ron added with a wink.
He grinned. "Thanks, Ron," he said while Hermione tutted in disapproval.
"Good luck, Harry," she said, guiding Ron away.
He munched on his roast beef, flipping the page, and nearly choked. There, on the page, was the word he had been searching for: Afon. He read the translation aloud eagerly. "River."
The Afon Hafren was a river! He leapt up and nearly ran over to Madam Pince. "Do we have any maps of Wales in Welsh?" he asked her.
"I believe so," she replied, looking at him with her still suspicious eyes. "More research, Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said.
She got up and led him away. "Our newest one is from 1920. We retrieved it from a burning Muggle library," she said.
"Along with several other items, I presume?" he asked.
She pursed her lips. "Only those that a wizarding school could use. Most of that Muggle stuff is rubbish. Ah," she said, pulling out a stack of old, yellowish looking maps. "It will be in there. Just remember to be careful."
"I will," he assured her and dived in, not even waiting for her to walk away. When he found the map he was looking for, he scanned all of Wales, searching for the River Hafren. He found it, running from the Cambrian Mountains in Wales into England. His mind raced. Wasn't that…
He grabbed another map off of the stack. It was of the same area, but in English, thankfully. He traced his finger over the map to the exact same spot the Welsh map read Afon Hafren to find that its English equivalent was none other than the River Severn.
Finally, he thought. Finally, I'm making progress.
Now he recited the riddle in his mind, only making the appropriate changes.
Upon the River Severn do farms lie.
In a town and parish that are like a certain man and I.
A royal forest lies near by.
Above its gardens birds like to fly.
He inhaled. Upon the River Severn do farms lie. So, he was looking for a rural town along the River Severn?
In a town and parish that are like a certain man and I.
Harry frowned. That one puzzled him. He muttered it to himself slowly, taking the maps back with him to his table.
Like a certain man and I? Who was this man? Voldemort feels a connection toward somebody? Dumbledore, possibly? Are the town and parish rivals-enemies?
He shook his head. No, that didn't seem right. Why would a town and a whole parish be enemies?
He decided to skip that line and go onto the next. A royal forest lies near by. Okay, simple enough. Look for a forest, he told himself.
The problem was, there were a few different forests in Wales, but he couldn't tell if there were any by the River Severn. He looked at several different maps of Wales yet found nothing that could seem to help him.
Suddenly, an idea came to him. What if the place he was looking for wasn't in Wales, but in England? The River Severn certainly ran through England, so it was absolutely ridiculous to look at just Wales. After all, it would be just like Voldemort to try and trick him.
Flipping through his pile of maps, he found one of the United Kingdom and followed the River Severn from its mouth near Llandiloes, Wales and up into England, going past towns such as Shrewsbury, Worcester, and all the way down to Gloucester. Then, nearby he saw it: the Royal Forest of Dean.
That had to be it, he told himself. Quickly, he began scanning to see what towns were in the area and then frowned. There were loads of towns. Not only was Gloucester to its west, but other towns were within the forest, such as Cinderford and Coleford. He sighed. This was going to take a long time, narrowing them down.
He decided to jot each city, town, and village in the Forest of Dean and along the River Severn before looking for as much information as he could on them. It meant spending long hours with his nose stuck in encyclopedias and other reference material. When it was time for the library to close, he was only a third of the way down on his list.
"The library is closing, Mr. Potter," Madam Pince said.
"Can I take this book with me?" he asked her, holding up one of the encyclopedias.
"It's a reference book that stays here," she said.
"Please?"
"No, Potter," she said firmly. "I don't know what you're researching, aside from British geography, but it's taking away from your important magical studies. If I catch you skipping your classes tomorrow to be in here for Merlin only knows what, I'll hand you over to Professor McGonagall."
He scowled at her, tossing the heavy book back onto the table. "Yes, ma'am," he said, grabbing his bag and leaving.
He wandered back to the common room, which was emptying out as students went off to bed. Ron and Hermione were still up-Ron still doing his homework while Hermione was reading.
"Harry!" Ron said happily upon noticing his friend's return. "How's the research coming?"
"Good," Harry replied, sitting down. "I had a breakthrough, but Madam Pince threw me out."
Hermione glanced at her watch. "Well, the library did close five minutes ago."
"Yeah, that's why she threw me out, but she wouldn't let me take the book I was using out," he said.
"Reference?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"That's why. Those aren't meant to be checked out."
"That's stupid," Ron said. "They should let all of the books be checked out."
"The reason why they aren't checked out is because, for one thing, they're expensive, and two, no one reads the whole thing. People look at them just to make sure they have their facts straight. That's why they're called 'reference' books-you refer to them," Hermione said.
"If you say so," Ron muttered. "So are you going to go back tomorrow?"
Harry sighed. "I have to, don't I? I mean, I was this close," he said, holding his fingers up to indicate a small amount. "I could feel it. I wish I could have continued. I mean, every second I waste is a second less that Aurors have time to prepare for. Every second I waste is a second closer to that town's doom." He sat back in his chair, an idea forming in his mind.
Hermione was watching him carefully. "Harry, what are you thinking about?"
He looked up at her. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just trying to figure something out."
"Like using your invisibility cloak to sneak into the library after hours?"
A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe."
She rolled her eyes. "Usually, I'd scold you and urge you not to do it, but this time is different."
Ron looked completely taken aback by her words. "You're not going to nag him about following the rules?"
"No," she said. "People's lives are at stake. Quite frankly, I don't even know why you're still sitting here, Harry."
He laughed a little and snuck up to his dorm, careful not to wake the slumbering Neville, Seamus, and Dean while he rummaged through his trunk. When he found his cloak and the Marauder's Map, he went back downstairs where Ron and Hermione stood, waiting.
"What are you two waiting for?" he asked.
"We're coming with you," Hermione said. "Whether you like it or not, we're coming with you."
"But you can't!" Harry protested. "You can't help me or that town will be destroyed even faster."
"We're not going to give you the answer, mate," Ron said. "We're just going to help you find what you need and make sure you don't get caught."
"Besides, if you stay calm and use Occlumency, Voldemort shouldn't know a thing," Hermione said. "Please, Harry, let us do what we can for you."
He frowned and let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay."
The trip underneath the invisibility cloak was rather uneventful. Ron had to slouch in order for their feet not to be seen and once, they had to take a detour to avoid Peeves, who was rigging a bucket of mud to dump onto whoever tripped the trip wire he had going across the floor. Other than that, they had no problems getting to the library.
Harry slowly opened the door, glancing at the map to make sure no one was in or near the library. Then, he took the cloak off of them and took out his wand, muttering, "Lumos."
Ron and Hermione copied him before Hermione said, "Okay, what books do we need?"
"Any books you can find on towns in or around the Forest of Dean near the River Severn," Harry said, quickly finding the book he had been using earlier.
"Okay, is there anything specific you need to know about these towns?" Hermione asked.
Harry flipped open the book and turned back to the page he was on. "Er-yeah, what parish they're in and whether or not they have any gardens."
"Gardens?" said Ron.
"Yeah, gardens," Harry said.
"I suppose you mean like gardens that tourists can visit," Hermione said.
"I guess," Harry replied, reading up on the town of Milkwall.
"Okay," Ron said, "let's get busy, then."
They spent three hours searching, occasionally glancing at the Marauder's Map to see where Filch was. There was one tense moment where he did come in the library to check on it, but thanks to Ron noticing his approach, they quickly gathered up their materials and hovered in a corner of the library underneath the invisibility cloak.
Finally, in hour four, Hermione murmured, "I think I may have found something."
Harry rushed over to her side. "What is it?"
"Westbury-on-Severn. Parish: Westbury-on-Severn. Home of the Westbury Court Garden," she told him.
"Where it is located?" he asked.
She took him over to the map of the United Kingdom they had lying out and pointed. "There," she said. "Right along the River Severn. It's a rural town."
Harry stared at the little dot on the map and whispered, "Upon the River Severn do farms lie. In a town and parish that are like a certain man and I. Westbury-on-Severn in the parish Westbury-on-Severn. They're named the same. Of course! 'Like a certain man and I.' His father!"
"What?" Ron muttered.
"Tom Riddle. Voldemort and his father share the same birth name, just like how Westbury-on-Severn shares its name with its parish!" Harry said excitedly. "The Royal Forest of Dean lies nearby and above the Westbury Court Garden do birds like to fly." He laughed. "That's it! That's got to be it!" He turned to Hermione, placed his hands on either side of her face, and kissed her. "You found it!"
She laughed. "That's all well and good, though, Harry, but now you've got to tell Dumbledore so that he can warn the Ministry."
He nodded. "You're right, you're right. Let's clean up and go see him right away."
"Bloody hell, he acts like he's just won the Quidditch Cup," Ron said as they quickly put their books back.
"This might just be better than winning the Quidditch Cup," Harry said.
They ran as fast as they could to Dumbledore's office, not even bothering with the invisibility cloak. When they reached the stone gargoyle blocking the entrance to his office, Harry shouted out the password, waited long enough for it to jump out of the way, took the stairs two at a time, and then pounded on the door, Ron and Hermione right on his heels.
Dumbledore opened the door, wearing a deep purple robe and a night cap, yet his eyes were bright and alert. "Harry, Ron, Hermione-goodness, it's nearly one in the morning."
"We're sorry to wake you, sir-" Hermione began.
"-Voldemort's going to attack Westbury-on-Severn tomorrow," Harry finished.
"You've had a vision?" Dumbledore asked.
"Not since Keswick," Harry murmured.
"Then how did you learn this?"
"He-er-when he spoke to me, he told me a riddle in order to figure out where he's attacking next."
"What is the riddle?"
Harry recited the poem while Dumbledore sat down, listening intently. When Harry finished, he pulled out a map and gazed down at it, tracing his long finger over it. "Interesting," he murmured. "Town and parish. Very interesting."
"Do you agree with me, sir?" Harry asked. "Westbury-on-Severn?"
"Yes, I do. I will Floo the Minister immediately." He smiled at them. "You three have done a great job. Thank you. Now, it's late. I'll take care of everything. If I remember correctly, tomorrow is Appartion testing in Hogsmede. You'll need your rest."
"Yes, sir," Harry said. "Good night."
"Good night."
*****
Anxiety was the only thing Harry felt the following day as he, Ron, and Hermione made their way to Hogsmeade. He constantly wondered when the attack would take place and whether or not the Aurors would arrive on time. Did he even answer the riddle correctly?
Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Everything's going to be okay. You've got to focus on the test now." She turned to Ron, who was looking slightly green. "And you need to stop worrying about the test. You'll do fine. Both of you, just remember to concentrate."
"I'm going to fail," Ron moaned.
"You are not. Don't talk like that," Hermione admonished.
"Mum and Dad would barely let me practice," Ron said. "They thought I was going to lose a limb or something."
"Not if you concentrate. Focus on your destination," Hermione said.
"You're beginning to sound like that old guy we had for an instructor over the summer," Harry said.
"Oh, so what if I am?" Hermione said. "It's good advice."
When they arrived in Hogsmeade, there was a small sign for Apparition testing pointing right down High Street. They headed that way, catching sight of a several seventh-year students who were not of age when testing took place at the Ministry. To Harry's great surprise and disdain, one of them was Draco Malfoy.
"What's he doing here?" Harry growled.
Hermione looked up ahead and spotted him. "I don't know. I would have expected him to take his test at the Ministry. I'm sure he was of age at the time."
"D'you think it's got anything to do with what happened this summer?" Harry asked.
"It's possible," she replied.
"Or maybe he failed," Ron said, a hint of hope in his voice.
Three Ministry officials were waiting for all of them at the end of the street. Two of them looked very old, while the third was middle-aged.
"Come, come everyone," the oldest-looking one said. "The objective for today is very simple. Apparate from one end of High Street to the other. Mr. Beale here is going to Apparate down there first. Then you'll Apparate after him one at a time. Mr. Beale will give you either a green card or a red card. Then you'll Apparate back and we'll determine whether or not you passed." With a sudden CRACK, the middle-aged man, Mr. Beale, was gone. "Everyone, please, line up."
Hermione got in line, followed by Harry and Ron, who looked even greener than before. Much to their combined chagrin, Malfoy stepped in line behind them.
"You better not barf, Weasel," he said. "What's the matter? Did you fail the last test?"
"Did you?" Ron snapped back, a flush of red giving his face Christmas colors.
"This is my first time taking them," Malfoy said. "It's more convenient to do it here."
"Well, it's the same with me," Ron said. "I haven't taken it yet either."
"Now you're about to," Malfoy said, smirking. "Don't lose your spine."
Harry turned around sharply and said to him, "Hey Malfoy, don't lose your b-oh, wait, you don't have any."
There was a loud CRACK as the first student Disapparated.
"Go splice yourself with a flea, Potter," Malfoy spat.
"Speaking of which, when you were learning how to Apparate, did you splice yourself with an ass, because you sure look like one," Harry said, earning himself a roaring laugh out of Ron.
Malfoy snarled up at Ron. "Shut up, Weasley. After all, you don't have to splice yourself with a big, hairy orangutan because you already look like one!"
"While you look incredibly like a ferret," Ron said.
"Boys," Hermione chided. "Leave the ferret alone and focus on what you're about to do."
Ron snickered while all three of them turned around, leaving Malfoy sulking. Eventually, it was Hermione's turn to step forward.
"Good luck," Harry whispered in her ear. "You'll do great."
He watched her step up, give her name, and then take a deep breath. At the old man's nod, she twisted herself quickly to the right and CRACK, she was gone. Harry scanned the area, but found no trace of her.
"Next," the old man called.
Harry turned quickly to Ron, who was turning green again. "You'll do fine when it's your turn. Don't let anything bother you. I'll be there on the other side."
Then he stepped up and gave his name to the old man, who in turned gasped and looked directly at his scar. "My, my, it is you. Well, okay then, Mr. Potter, off you go to the end of the street."
Harry stood still, imagining shops on his right and left, seeing exactly where he wanted to go. Keeping that image in his mind, the snapped to the right and felt himself being squeezed in on all sides until finally, he came out of it at the other end of High Street, Hermione standing near him with a green card.
"You made it!" she squealed.
He laughed. "You had doubts?"
"No, of course not."
Mr. Beale was examining him up and down. "Okay, you're clear." He handed over a green card. "Apparate back when you're ready."
Suddenly, with a loud CRACK, Ron Apparated, looking rather dazed. When he spotted Harry, he yelled, "Harry! Am I missing anything?"
Harry eyed him over, as did Mr. Beale.
"You're clear," Mr. Beale said, handing Ron a green card.
"I-I did it?" Ron sputtered.
Mr. Beale nodded. "You did. Apparate back when you're ready."
Ron ran over to Harry and Hermione. "I Apparated!"
"Wonderful job, Ron," Hermione said, giving him a hug. "Now we just have to Apparate back to complete the test."
"I'm ready when you are," Harry said.
"Me too," Hermione said. "Let's go over there and finish this."
The three of them walked away as Malfoy Apparated, looking smug. Harry paid him little attention. He focused his mind back on where he had just come from, then, twisting to his right, he Disapparted just as Ron and Hermione did.
They arrived back at nearly precisely the same time. The other old man examined all three of them, took their names, and then handed each of them their Apparition licenses. "Congratulations."
All three of them were ecstatic, none more so than Ron. He was practically skipping up the street to the Three Broomsticks.
"When I get back, I'm going to write my parents and tell them. They'll be thrilled," he said happily. "I was sure that was going to lose an eyebrow or something. Maybe a finger."
"But you didn't," Hermione said, grinning. "Nothing was left behind, not even a freckle."
"I'm so pumped up right now I feel like I could take on the entire Slytherin Quidditch team," he said. "How about you, Harry?"
Harry grinned. "Yeah, me too."
Quite honestly, though, his mind had already begun to wander back to Voldemort's attack. He wondered if Westbury-on-Severn had been attacked already and if so, had the Aurors gotten there on time. Was anybody killed? Were any Death Eaters captured? Was there a single
*****
Later on that evening, during the annual Halloween feast, Harry could hardly eat. All he did was push his meatloaf and mashed potatoes around his plate with his fork while tapping his fingers nervously against the table.
"Harry," Hermione said gently, "you need to eat."
"What? Oh," he murmured and grabbed a dinner roll. "I'm just wondering what's going on."
"I know," she said. "So am I."
"I can't stand this, waiting around to find out what happened. I should march right over there to Dumbledore and demand a report," he said.
She smiled. "Unfortunately, Harry, you're not the Minister, nor are you some general in an army. Now, are you going to eat that dinner roll, or just keep tearing it up?"
He looked down to see that he was, indeed, shredding his dinner roll. He grudgingly took a bite. "Better?"
"Much."
When the feast was over, Harry decided that he couldn't wait any longer. He stayed in the Great Hall until Dumbledore got up and left. Harry quickly followed him out.
"Sir, I need to talk to you," he said.
Dumbledore turned. "Of course, Harry. What is it?"
"I need to know what's happened. Has Westbury-on-Severn been attacked."
Dumbledore frowned. "That, I do not know. I have been waiting for Fawkes to return with news from the Order."
"You sent the Order there?"
"Tonks was selected to be part of the team of Aurors that went to protect Westbury. She will send me word as soon as she can," he said.
"And?"
"And I will send for you when Fawkes returns. That's the best I can do right now, Harry."
He nodded. "Okay."
*****
He was in the middle of catching up on his homework when a fireball erupted in front of him. A single red phoenix feather fell from it and the fireball disappeared. Ron and Hermione were amazed.
"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron cried.
"Dumbledore," Harry said, his heart rate picking up. "He's heard from Tonks."
He jumped up and headed to the portrait hole. "Wait!" Hermione called from behind him. "We're coming too!"
The three of them made their way to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster opened the door before they could even knock.
"How many people were killed?" was all Harry could ask.
Dumbledore motioned for them to sit in the three cushy armchairs on the other side of his desk. When they sat down, he began. "Voldemort's vampires attacked Westbury-on-Severn at nine o'clock this evening. There they were ambushed by a contingent of Aurors who dispatched them rather quickly. No one, save the vampires, was hurt."
Harry stared at him. "No one?"
"Not a soul." Dumbledore smiled at him. "Because of you three figuring out that riddle and the excellent skills of the Aurors, there weren't any Muggle or wizard casualties. Voldemort lost thirty vampires tonight."
Harry sunk down in his seat and let his head fall back, feeling a great burden lift from his shoulders. No one was hurt. They had survived. They were safe. Everything was okay.
For now.