Secrets from the Future

(A/N: Dear friends, finally here is the awaited sequel of “Secrets from the Past”. I thank you so much for your kind reviews! I have to apologize for being so slow in publishing, but I needed to gather my ideas during the past months. I just wanted to inform you that, I'm going to re-publish the whole story, but I won't change anything of the original. I just would like to refresh the interest of the readers. As usual, I'd like to thank my wonderful BETA readers SarahLupin and IronChefOr, for their great, great help. I hope you'll enjoy it, but I'll be glad to read any kind of review you'd like to leave me!)

SECRETS FROM THE FUTURE
by Petronilla

Summary: WRITTEN BEFORE HBP - Awaited sequel of SECRETS FROM THE PAST! Seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry and Hermione are a couple now, but the arrival of a new, mysterious Gryffindor student will bring a lot of problems to their love relationship. Meanwhile, the war in the magical world is becoming more and more bloody. Voldemort has got a perfect plan in his mind, in order to destroy his mortal enemy and win the war, and the plan is, pulling away each one of Harry's friends, one by one. Will Harry be able to master his Seer powers and invert his destiny? Read and find out...

Charter 1. LOVE OWLS

Another sultry summer day was coming to an end. The roofs of all the houses on Privet Drive glowed with the golden light of the sunset. It was as if the perfection and serenity of the neighborhood couldn't be disrupted by anyone or anything, not even by the dry weather which had managed to transform the previously luxuriant green lawns, making them arid and dry.

Just like every other evening, all of the people living there had finally gathered around their dinner tables, in their perfect kitchens, in their perfect houses, ready to eat a simple but nourishing meal, some maybe watching the telly. The only thing on their minds was worrying about having to water their lawns enough the next day.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the atmosphere at number 4 Privet Drive, where the Dursley family lived. In their house, a gloomy atmosphere of silent worry could be felt, even though not one of them had the courage to express their thoughts on the matter.

Ever since Harry Potter had returned home a week earlier, his aunt and uncle hadn't spoken a single word to him. However, even they (two pretty stubbornly-Muggle Muggles) had the feeling that there was something serious happening. “You can't tell me that all those gas leaks and accidents in the last couple months have just all been a coincidence. There's something strange going on...” Harry's uncle, Mr. Vernon Dursley, tossed a nervous glance in Harry's general direction. “Too strange...”

The war in the magical world had begun; the attacks of the Darkness Army led by Lord Voldemort had become bloodier in the last couple months, even in the Muggle world. For once, Harry agreed with his uncle. Even though there had been no sight of Dark Marks around these “accidents” after the first attack on London before Christmas, Harry knew it the timing of it all was a little too coincidental. He feared that these were just warm-ups for what was to come.

Above all, Mr. Vernon Dursley feared for his family's safety... for his wife Petunia and his son Dudley, that is. But what about Harry? No, Mr. Vernon Dursley didn't worry about his nephew. If it wasn't for his wife, he would have already sent that annoying boy with his freaky powers out of his house.

That evening, as they did every evening, the Dursleys had just finished their dinner and were now trying to relax, sitting on the sofa in front their huge television. Harry was trying to finish cleaning the kitchen, as they had ordered him to do.

A thin boy, not particularly tall, with ruffled black hair and deep green eyes behind a pair of round glasses, Harry was wearing a worn pair of jeans, a extra large faded T-shirt, and dirty trainers. If they didn't know him, nobody could have ever guessed that he was one of the most famous wizards in the world. As famous as Harry was the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead, an unforgettable reminder of his personal fight against all that was evil in the wizarding world.

On the news that evening, there was nothing particularly ominous, nothing that could be connected to a Death Eater attack: a suspicious kidnapping, bombing attempt, or the like. Nevertheless, Harry wasn't able to relax; he knew all too well that Voldemort's diabolical plans included spreading terror and fear everywhere, spreading it in subtle ways so that nobody could feel safe anymore.

On the TV at that particular moment was a funny show that should have provided a bit of amusement to most carefree people. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, however, were still staring the screen seriously. Meanwhile, Harry, standing by the sink, was sneaking glances at the TV from behind their backs.

Harry was now quite accustomed to being considered worthless in that house, but in all honesty he didn't care about it anymore. That particular evening, however, he had noticed a rather unfriendly tension directed against him.

Harry thought that the only sensible thing to do was to keep quiet and stay calm, and then try to slip away before someone had the idea to talk to him. He had just finished cleaning and was already stealthily heading to the door when Uncle Vernon called him back with his deep voice.

“Come here, boy!”

Harry froze, his hand on the doorknob and one foot in the hallway; he sighed deeply and turned on his heels. Resigned, he went over to the sofa and stopped directly in front of the TV, evoking a disappointed grunt from his cousin Dudley.

“Hey, get out of the way!” Since Harry hadn't moved from in front of the TV yet, Dudley started leaning left and right, trying to watch the TV, his huge belly undulating like a large Jell-O mold. Despite his mother's best efforts to keep him on a diet, young Dudley had gained so much weight during the last year that he was almost as fat as his father, himself was not unlike a small whale.

Harry kept his cool and moved a few steps to the side, patiently waiting. Uncle Vernon then spoke to him, not lifting his gaze from the screen. “Something arrived for you. And as usual, one of those flea-ridden birds of yours delivered it here!”

“W-what? You mean that I've got mail? But when?” Harry asked, rather upset. How was it possible that he didn't notice the arrival of an owl addressed to him?

“Um… a couple days ago,” replied Uncle Vernon absentmindedly.

“A couple days ago?” Harry emphasized each word, raising the tone of his voice. “Why are you only telling me about it now? It could've been something important!”

“Lower your voice when you're talking to me, boy!” Uncle Vernon scolded him, glaring directly into Harry's eyes. “I don't know the absurd reason why that stinking animal didn't fly directly to your room! By the way, I've already told you a thousand times that I won't stand anymore of those filthy creatures in my house!”

“Vernon? The neighborhood...” Aunt Petunia spoke, barely moving her thin lips. With her little hand, she grabbed her husband's large arm, trying to make him lower his voice. Uncle Vernon looked around warily, as if fearing that in that exact moment someone might be spying on them from outside the window.

Harry rolled his eyes and decided to stop the conversation there. “Can I have my letter, now?” he cut them off insistently; they frowned at him with deep scorn.

Then, Uncle Vernon turned to his son. “Give it to him!”

Slowly, Dudley slipped his huge hand into his jeans' back pocket and took out a small envelope with a sneer on his face. “Harry's got a girlfriend! Harry's got a girlfriend! I'm sure she's out of her mind to be with someone like you!” Dudley teased his cousin, as he waved the open envelope in front Harry's nose.

Harry's eyes widened and he felt his blood boiling. “You read my mail?” he shouted, snatching the letter away from Dudley's hands and glaring at his uncle.

“I told you to lower your voice! It's our right to read your mail. Since you're staying in our house, we have to know what sort of mischief you're getting into behind our backs!”

“YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANY RIGHT TO READ IT! YOU DIDN'T...” Harry felt like a time bomb, ready to explode at any minute. His heart was beating furiously and his hands were trembling in anger.

“Didn't you hear your uncle? He just told you to lower your voice!” Aunt Petunia scolded him again in her acute voice. “Besides, it's inappropriate to get mail from a girl!”

Harry's anger was now changing into indignation. How could they dare read Hermione's letter, when it was addressed to him?

“This is something personal! If I ever catch you reading my mail again, you're going to regret it!” Harry hatefully threatened them. He then ran away abruptly, slamming the door as he left the kitchen. He was already climbing the stairs two at a time when he heard his uncle shouting from the hallway.

“Harry Potter! If you don't show us some respect, I'll throw you out of this house! I'll not even leave you the time to gather your things! Understood?”

Biting his lip, Harry locked himself in his room. He then went over to his bed and heavily stretched out on it, breathing deeply to calm down.

They've crossed the line this time! he kept repeating to himself. Once I'm of age, I'm leaving this house and never coming back!

He needed some time to relax again before he could concentrate on Hermione's letter; when he managed to calm down, he opened the envelope and read the contents.

Dear Harry,
I hope you're fine and that you've already started your homework. I don't think we'll be able to meet before the new school year starts. Anyway, I wish you all the best for your summer holidays.

Greetings, Hermione.

Harry read and reread those few lines several times, wondering the reason for such a cold attitude toward him. Just a week ago when they has last seen each other, it looked like there was something deeper between them. Hermione had remained by his side in the most difficult moment of his life; she had even told him that she loved him.

“Hey, wait a minute!” Harry said abruptly, rising from the bed. He took his wand out of his jeans' pocket and pointed it at the parchment, whispering “Aparecium!”

In a second, those few hurriedly written lines disappeared and the real content of the parchment appeared. Harry smiled, feeling a comforting warmth in his heart. Satisfied, he then stretched again on the bed and quietly read his girlfriend's long letter.


“DEDICATED TO YOU

My love's arms are strong like olive-tree branches
And his legs are straight like marble columns.

My love's eyes are green like jade
And his lips are red like ripe cherries.

My love's hair is black like the night sky
And his cheeks are clear like moon rays.

The destiny has let us meet
And we'll never part.

Our love is pure like a candid flower,
Like the white foam of the sea,
Like the morning dew,
Like the sweet baby sleep.

Nobody will ever steal our lives,
Because our hearts are already united.

My dear Harry,

Do you like this poem? I found it in a book I'm reading at the moment and I thought it was nice. How are you? I'm fine, even though I'm spending all my time closed up in my room, thinking of you.

This morning, I wanted to do something different, so I went to the nearby public swimming pool. I really enjoyed since it's been so hot!

Thinking about all the things that happened last year, I've realized that nothing will be the same from now on. First of all, I won't be the same! During your illness, I had time to think and have come to the following conclusion: the people we love are the most important things in life. I don't want to waste a single minute with useless things that take me from the ones I love.

I want to dedicate myself to being happy with the ones I love: Mum, Dad, and of course you! Maybe that means fewer trips to the library (don't think you're getting out of your homework though, Mr. Potter!), and maybe that means S.P.E.W. gets put on hold until Voldemort is defeated (don't tell Ron, he'd never let me live it down!). What good are books and cleverness if there's no love in your heart? Do you think I'm a silly little girl for thinking this? I hope not!

I received an owl from Ron last night. He mentioned something about going to visiting Luna! Those two are so lucky to live close to each other. Honestly, I miss you so much and I hope we can meet soon.

I hope that your aunt and uncle won't be too awful to you! Hold on to the thought that holidays won't last forever...

I have to go now. My parents and I have been invited to a conference about global warming... I'm so excited! It's been so long since I've been able to spend time with my parents, so I might not write again until we get back. We'll be staying in a hotel, so if you send Hedwig with a letter, be sure to tell her to deliver it at night so there won't be so many people out to see her.

Yours, Hermione.

PS: I'm sending this letter with a new owl my father recently bought in Diagon Alley. It doesn't seem to me to be all that clever and I worry that it won't be able to reliably deliver this letter. That's why I had to think of a good way to not let any nosy Muggles read it. Did you like my trick? Since you're almost of age, I don't think that you're going to be in trouble for using a Revealing Charm on this letter. Anyway, to be sure, I asked Dumbledore's permission first!”


Hermione, you're great! Harry said to himself, jumping out of his bed and heading to his desk to grab a quill and ink and some parchment. He then sat back down on his bed and thought for a few seconds before starting to write.

“My dear Hermione...” Harry stopped and read those three words several times; he decided that it was a bit too mushy, so he crumpled the parchment nervously and took out a new one.

“Hermione...” He wasn't happy with that either; he threw away the second parchment and took out a third one.

“Dear Hermione...” Finally, this seemed OK; it wasn't too intimate, but not too formal, so he went on writing.

“I'm sorry for the delay in answering you, but my aunt and uncle have been horrible to me once again. Let's just say that your owl delivered your letter to the wrong person, as you feared!

Thanks for the poem, it's really nice. I also have thought several times about what's happened to us during the last year. I can't believe that we've managed to stay alive, and I'm terribly sorry that you've suffered because of my injury. I strongly hope that next year will be less... `tragic!'

Until now, I've done my best to be noticed as little as possible here at home. Fortunately, my aunt and uncle are usually stubbornly trying to ignore my presence, so it makes it easier.

I just can't stand not knowing anything about what's happening out there: the war, the Death Eater attacks, whether Mark is still a prisoner. I know it's only been a week, but still...

The only thing I know for sure is that Mark is still alive! I don't know how to explain this, but I feel it in my heart. You're probably thinking that I don't need to be so worried for someone like Mark Evans, but I just can't help it!

Maybe he was being foolish by revealing to me what he did. After all, everyone else seemed to want to protect me from that information. But the things he revealed to me are fundamental pieces of who and what I am, parts not only of my past, but also to my future. That's why I owe him so much, despite everything!

I can't wait to turn seventeen and finally be able to use magic as much as I want! The first thing I'll do (after getting revenge on my cousin Dudley for the last thing he did to me!) will be to start practicing my new Seer powers. I'm sure that mastering the elements will be handy in the future!

I don't think I'll have too much trouble with air and water. But I'm sure it won't be as simple with fire and earth.

Ron wrote to me as well. He sent me Pig to say that he's fine. He also mentioned he `might' go visit Luna. Those two are a really nice couple.”

Harry stopped for a moment to think; there was something else he hadn't written to Hermione yet, and he wasn't sure if he could do it or not. Since he had returned to Privet Drive, terrible nightmares had disturbed almost all of his nights, making it impossible for him to sleep very well. It would have been pointless to worry Hermione any more than necessary, so he decided not to mention it in his letter.

“Well, I think I've wrote a bit of everything, now it's your turn. Please reply soon, it's dead boring here!

Yours, Harry.”

Harry read the letter several times, changing a few words here and there. When he was satisfied with it, he waited until night and attached the parchment to Hedwig's leg, who was anxiously clawing her perch, eager to fly. Afterwards, Harry stretched back out on his bed again with his arms behind his head and gazed out toward his owl's white profile, which was darting out in the dark. When Hedwig became smaller than a star at the horizon, Harry turned to stare at the ceiling, not switching on his light.

After a long hot day, he liked the dark, breathing in the fresh air of the night. Then, he started to think about all the incredible events of the past school year. On Valentine's Day, he had finally managed to open his heart to Hermione.

He met Mark Evans, one of his mother's cousins, who had been a Death Eater in the past. Mark was only sixteen at that time and almost immediately he regretted joining Lord Voldemort. Fearing the Dark Lord's revenge, he fled, remaining abroad for many years. During Lupin's absence from school due to a serious injury, Dumbledore called Mark to Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. After gaining Harry's trust, Mark revealed to Harry that he was a Seer, as his mother Lily had been. He exhorted Harry to exercise his new Seer powers which included foresight, the ability to read others' minds as well as communicate with them at a distance, and also the ability to master the universal elements.

During a Death Eater attack, Harry was struck by a terrible curse. For about a week, he remained dangerously between life and death, but he had also had a wonderful experience in the Astral World with his parents. After his recovery, he had managed to free Sirius's soul from the Veil of Death through an ancient ceremony. Surely Sirius had reached the Astral World, to continue his existence together with Lily and James.

Harry looked around him as the moonlight filtered in through the window. His room hadn't changed much over the past few years. It was pretty small, the hardwood floor covered with a gray throw-rug in the middle, Harry's Muggle and wizard clothes strewn about. The bed, now a bit too short for him, was standing against the wall under the window, and jealously tucked away in the narrow wooden wardrobe was his Firebolt. The desk was full of school books and by the bed was Harry's open trunk, his cauldron sticking out, overflowing with pieces of parchment.

Harry sighed deeply, wondering if this night also would be disturbed by one of his usual nightmares. Then he turned on his side and stared with affection at his parents' picture, which kept on his bed table. He smiled, knowing that they would always watch over him. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

***O***

Harry walked through a dark maze of stone walls, holding his lit wand in his right hand. The silence of the night was broken only by the rustle of his long black robes and by the almost rhythmic dripping of water, which fell to the ground through a crack in the ceiling. A feeling of being followed sent a chill through his spine and pushed him to speed up his pace. Harry made several turns until he reached the center of the maze. In front of him, a partially closed iron door appeared.

The door slowly opened and he went inside with great caution; the room was dirty and had a stone floor and walls. A heavy, damp air filled his lungs, but Harry didn't care. He moved a few steps forward and finally saw a man huddled in a corner of the room. The man was wearing a long blue robe, torn in several places, and his disheveled long hair was falling over his face. Harry moved closer and suddenly, the man raised his head toward him.

“Mark!” exclaimed Harry, surprised. It was nearly impossible to recognize Mark Evans' once beautiful features; his face was tired and skinny, marred by deep scars and black rings under his eyes.

Mark looked as if he didn't recognize Harry; he kept staring at Harry with fear, moving as far away as he could, up against the wall behind him. “Nooo! Go away! Don't come any closer! Don't hurt me!” Mark shouted, his eyes widening in fear.

Harry didn't understand Mark's strange reaction and slowly moved closer. “It's me, it's Harry! I've come to rescue you, Mark!”

Although Harry was trying to comfort him with his words, Mark seemed crazy with fear and tried as hard as he could to not look Harry in the face.

“Mark, take my hand! Come with me!” Harry exhorted, stretching his arm out. As soon as he had lowered his gaze to his hands, Harry shouted in horror. They weren't his hands. It couldn't be possible! They were pale, almost dead-like, with long skeleton fingers, twisted like old gnarled tree branches.

Harry drew back, bewildered, still staring at his hands. “It isn't true! It's not me! It's not me!” he insistently repeated to himself, but his eyes didn't lie. Suddenly, he looked over and saw a small puddle of water on the floor. Fearful, he walked over to it and slowly bent over to look at his reflection.

“NOOOO!” Harry shouted desperately, raising his hands to his face. The surface of the water had just reflected the image of a disgusting being with a ghostly face and snakelike red eyes, the face of Lord Voldemort.

A laugh echoed evilly in Harry's mind, and a cold voice spoke.

“Do you really think you're any different than I am? How wrong you are!”

“Go away! Leave me alone, MONSTER!” Harry shouted with anger, but the voice spoke again, determined.

“You are my equal! There's no way out, Harry! Fight at my side, or die!”

“No! I won't! Do you hear me? I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU, NEVER!”

Shouting desperately, Harry woke up, sitting up abruptly on his bed. Panting heavily, he raised a hand to his scar, which was throbbing painfully. He felt his forehead and pajamas damp with sweat, as he breathed deeply to regain control over himself.

With trembling hands, he put on his glasses and then jumped out of bed and rushed to the mirror. The reflection in it looked like his own, lit only by the feeble light of the full moon filtering in through the window. Still not satisfied, he switched on a nearby light and examined every feature of his face. The emerald green eyes, the slim cheeks, the ruffled black hair -- everything looked as usual.

With his fingers, he lightly brushed the scar on his forehead, which seemed a little redder and slightly swollen more than normal. He was quite accustomed to this. His scar was an antenna of sorts and hurt unbearably every time he had a nightmare about Voldemort or whenever he sensed the feelings of his mortal enemy.

This horrible nightmare had been tormenting him ever since he had returned to Privet Drive. Each time he woke up, he always felt incredibly helpless and frustrated and wasn't able to get out of bed. If it wasn't for Aunt Petunia calling him insistently each morning (“GET UP!”), Harry would have laid in bed the entire day.

Harry switched off the light and weakly returned to his bed. He leaned back against the wall and quietly waited for the pain in his scar to diminish. It wasn't clear to him yet if these nightmares were messages sent to him by Voldemort or worse, premonitions.

Ever since Harry discovered that he was a Seer, he was always trying to explain every dream or vision he had. He even forced himself to follow Snape's suggestions, practicing Occlumency and closing his mind before going to bed. The nightmares however, kept tormenting him just the same, night after night.

Harry knew that he really should tell Albus Dumbledore about his dream and ask for his help. He just didn't want him or anyone else to think that he was weak, that he couldn't solve his own problems. Thinking about it, he knew he had always had awful nightmares for the last few years; there was nothing new about that, after all. Maybe it was just a nightmare. He wasn't really seeing a life-or-death situation that required him to rush off and do something rash. He wasn't really being shown a specific place where he could rush off to and do something rash. Maybe it was just his worry for Mark gnawing at him. Maybe it was just a nightmare.

The young wizard closed his eyes; if he started the day this early, his aunt and uncle would hear him and get mad about the noise. It was more than enough for them to have to bear his piercing shrieks in the middle of the night from his nightmares.

When the first rays of sunlight filtered into his room, Harry heard a wing brush against the window and opened his eyes. His beloved Hedwig had just returned, bringing with her a small package tied to her right leg with a blue ribbon. The snowy white owl gently landed on the bed and waited for her well- deserved pats.

“Just in time!” said Harry, stroking Hedwig's head. He untied the package and she then flew up to her cage on top of the wardrobe. Harry unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside were small iced cakes and a parchment from Hermione.

After a couple days at the conference, Hermione had written several owls to Harry in the last two weeks, making his stay at Privet Drive much more bearable. He took one of the cakes and bit into it with enjoyment, and then unrolled the parchment and read.

“My dear Harry,
I hope you're fine. I was really happy to receive your last owl so quickly.

Like every summer, my parents are planning a short holiday abroad. They'd like to visit Italy this time, but, honestly, I don't know if I want to join them. I'm sure you can guess the reason! I'd much rather spend the rest of the holiday with you!

In the mean time, I've already finished McGonagall's essay about human transfiguration and I'm really proud of it. I'm almost done with Snape's research on the most poisonous potions of all the ages. But, enough of that, I don't want to annoy you talking about homework. Do you realize that next school year will be our last one? I still can't believe it!

I got another owl from Ron yesterday. It seems that everything is going perfectly well between him and Luna!

I have to go now, dinner is ready! I miss you so much!

Yours, Hermione”

Harry smiled, closed the box, and set it in his night table's drawer. He then took out some parchment and a quill and started his reply.

“Dear Hermione,
How are you? I'm fine, even if I am bored out of my mind. My days are measured by the slow ticking of the clock and by my Aunt Petunia calling me every minute to help her in the kitchen or garden.

Yesterday, my cousin Dudley came home with a black eye, saying that he had fallen off his bike. My aunt and uncle believed him as usual, but I know he got punched by someone bigger than he was, even if he'd never admit it!

I also got another owl from Ron yesterday. Honestly, I swear he must save everything up and write all his owls at the same time. I bet he's gone to visit Luna a hundred times already. They really are a cute couple!

I received an owl from Dumbledore ordering me not to leave the house for any reason. I can't even take a break and go out for walk on my own. I swear, it's really difficult sometimes! As usual, he's keeping me in the dark about everything (you don't know how frustrating it is!), especially about where Voldemort's hiding.

It's only because of your letters that I'm able to go on. Seriously!”

“Harry! HARRY POTTER!” The acute voice of Aunt Petunia interrupted Harry. He sighed deeply then reluctantly rolled up the parchment and hid it in the drawer, planning to finish it later.

He jumped out of bed and started to get dressed, not particularly listening to his aunt's croaking, as she called him at regular intervals.

After a quick shower, he put on a pair of large, worn-out jeans, a crumpled blue T-shirt and his usual dirty trainers. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, only ruffling it further. Then he left his room and closed the door.

Reaching the kitchen, Harry realized with disappointment that another extreme cleaning event was in session. All of the chairs were sitting upside down on the table, the microwave had been dismantled, and Aunt Petunia was perched on top of a wooden ladder, busy emptying and dusting the cupboard.

“What took you so long to get down here?” she asked, extremely irritated. “Your breakfast is on the table! Eat quickly and then help me!” she said hastily, not even looking at him.

Harry slowly moved to the table where, in the small space between the four upside down chairs, was a plate with half a piece of dry bread covered with butter. He made a grimace of disgust and decided to pass on breakfast. He took a duster and started on the microwave.

“Are Uncle Vernon and Dudley up yet?” asked Harry, absentmindedly.

“Your uncle is out and Dudley is still in bed. Be careful not to wake him up while cleaning!” ordered Aunt Petunia. Harry rolled his eyes and nodded without taking his attention away from the microwave in front of him.

The morning went on quietly; Harry and his aunt both worked in silence, doing their best to ignore each other as much as possible. By lunch time, the kitchen was shining like a mirror and Harry was already feeling his stomach rumble in hunger. For a good half hour, he had been imagining eating Hermione's delicious iced cakes. When he thought he was finished, he placed the duster on the table and moved to the door.

“Where do you think you're going?” asked Aunt Petunia sharply.

Harry sighed before replying. “To the bathroom!”

“Fine, but come back immediately! I still need your help!”

“All right, Aunt Petunia!” replied Harry resignedly as he slowly climbed the stairs.

For as long as he had lived in that house, life had been extremely hard for Harry. His aunt and uncle treated him rudely, always comparing him to his cousin Dudley, whom they spoiled to no end. While staying at Privet Drive, Harry usually tried to keep his temper in check as much as possible. He knew all too well that he had to remain in that house; only the bond of blood of his mother's sister could protect him from Lord Voldemort.

Harry had just reached the landing when he noticed that his bedroom door was partially open. Temper rising, he slowly moved closer. I closed the door this morning... I'm sure I did! he thought to himself. He placed a hand on the doorknob, counted to three, and then opened the door quickly.

Harry was not at all happy with the scene in front of him. “WHAT THE BLOODY HELL'RE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?” he shouted, furiously.

Dudley had been caught in the act! He was sitting on Harry's bed, his face still dirty with crumbs. In his left hand was one of Hermione's cakes and in his right the parchment Harry had started to write.

Both cousins remained frozen for a few seconds, staring directly into each other eyes; each used these few moments in a very different way. Harry tried to think of an excellent spell to transfigure his cousin into a great big dirty pig to match the tail he received so many years earlier. Dudley, on the other hand, tried to think of a good way to get out of his predicament. Of all the options that came to his mind, Dudley finally, of course, chose exactly the wrong one.

Dudley slowly stood up, a silly smile pasted on his face, and waved Harry's letter in the air. “It's true then! You've got a girlfriend!” he started, fully with the intention of embarrassing Harry so much that he would run away ashamed.

Quite to the contrary however, Harry didn't feel any shame in his heart whatsoever. Instead, he felt a furious, unruly anger rising in him, ready to explode.

“Give me that letter!” Harry ordered, moving closer with his right hand stretched out, his heart beating faster and faster.

“No way! I don't want you telling your girlfriend about my business. And also, I think I'll show this letter to my friends, make them laugh a bit! What did you write?” Dudley unrolled the parchment with his huge hands and concentrated to find the most interesting part. “Ha! Here it is: `It's only because of your letters that I'm able to go on.'” He read the sentence in a raucous voice and burst into laugher.

“I said GIVE ME THE LETTER!” Harry shouted, starting to lose his temper.

Seeing that Dudley wasn't going to give it back, Harry felt a sudden impulse inside of him and without thinking, he threw himself at Dudley, desperately trying to snatch back the parchment from his cousin's grip. Dudley held it even tighter in his hand and stretched his arm up over Harry's head.

“GIVE IT BACK, OR I...”

“Or you'll what? You can't do anything without... this!”

Harry's eyes widened in surprised. With a devilish smile, Dudley took out from his pocket Harry's wand and showed it to him triumphantly. In his hurry earlier, Harry forgot to take his wand with him and left it inside his bed table.

“Now we're on the same playing field. The only difference now is that you're NOTHING without magic!” Dudley laughed again, satisfied.

Harry felt the blood boiling in his veins, as if all the resentment of the last sixteen years was going to burst out in that very moment, once and for all. This would be the last time his cousin would make a fool of him.

Again, Harry threw himself against his cousin, but this time he used every ounce of strength he had and finally managed to slam Dudley to the floor. With seemingly endless anger, he punched Dudley everywhere: his fat stomach, his fat arms, his multiple fat chins. Despite Harry's best efforts, it looked as though Dudley were simply amused.

“You don't have a chance against me. You should probably stop while you're ahead, before I start to get seriously angry!” said Dudley, laughing.

This warning had the opposite effect on Harry, who started punching his cousin even harder until finally, Dudley let the parchment and wand fall to the floor and stopped Harry by grabbing his arms.

“You asked for it!” threatened Dudley. With a quick movement, he forced Harry's arms behind his back. “Try to free yourself now, if you can!”

Both glared at each other with hate; Harry was panting heavily, desperately trying to break free. Dudley was making a great effort to hold him still.

“You're absolutely worthless! You've always been a burden on my family! You're a good-for-nothing weirdo, just like your parents!” shouted Dudley.

“All of you are not even worth half of what my parents were worth!” replied Harry furiously. “When I am allowed to leave this house, I'll finally be able forget your fat ugly faces!”

“Why don't you leave now? You're just like your parents: a good-for-nothing FREAK!”

“IT'S NOT TRUE, TAKE IT BACK!” shouted Harry.

“No, I won't!” replied Dudley stubbornly.

“TAKE IT BACK!” Feeling a strength he never thought he had before, Harry managed to break free of his cousin's grip. He grabbed Dudley's arms firmly and pushed his wrists to the floor, sitting on top of him to keep him from moving.

A shocked look appeared in Dudley's eyes, as he had never seen Harry so strong and determined.

“You're going to take back everything you said about my parents!” said Harry, panting heavily. He felt an uncontrollable strength inside of him, something that needed to escape.

Suddenly, Harry lost all track of time and space. Everything around him disappeared, leaving only an endless hate in his heart.

Then, a wild trembling of the walls and floor brought Harry back to reality. The light on the ceiling started to swing back and forth. The bed slid across the floor to the opposite side of the room as the doors of the wardrobe opened and slammed shut loudly.

“It's an earthquake! MUMMY, DADDY, IT'S AN EARTHQUAKE!” Dudley screamed before a shelf fell off the wall and several large books hit him square on the head.

Through the window came the screams of the neighbors who were running out of their houses, gathering in the middle of the street, worried and confused. From downstairs, Aunt Petunia was desperately calling her son.

In a sort of trance, Harry lessened his hold on Dudley; he pushed Harry off of him and stood up, and then staggered out of the room.

Almost completely unaware of what was happening around him, Harry closed his eyes and, as usually happened when he used his Seer powers, he felt as though every last bit of strength was begin drained away from him. He felt a sharp pain in his heart and raised a hand to his chest, panting. Abruptly, the walls and floors stopped shaking.

The pain in his heart grew sharper, making it difficult for him to breathe. Harry squinted his eyes and with no energy remaining, he collapsed to the floor. Before he passed out, he felt like was falling into an endless abyss, dark and awful. Down, down, further and further down.

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(A/N: Well, I thank you so much for your kind reviews! I have to apologize for being so slow in publishing, but I needed to gather my ideas during the past months.

I just wanted to inform you that I'm going to re-publish the whole story starting from chapter 2. I won't change anything of the original story, I just would like to refresh the interest of the readers.

Thanks for following my fan fiction until now, I really appreciated it. Petronilla)

SECRETS FROM THE FUTURE

BY Petronilla

Chapter 2. FEARING THE FUTURE

Harry felt lighter, as though he was lying on a cloud, surrounded by a shining light; his heart was filled with joy and endless peace, without pain, without fear. Suddenly, his parents' faces appeared in front of him.

His mother Lily was beautiful, as always. Her long copper hair fell over her shoulders and her clear green eyes stared at him sweetly. His father James had ruffled black hair, exactly like his own, and he was smiling at him.

“Mum, Dad!” called Harry, stretching out a hand toward them. He felt at home and didn't want anything other than to stay there with his parents always. Strangely, Lily and James were still staring at their son smiling, but not moving closer.

A sudden anxiety and deep loneliness caught Harry. “Mum! I want to stay here with you. Don't leave me alone. Dad, please, don't go away.”

Lily and James took each others' hands and their image started to fade away, surrounded by a cloud of fog. Harry felt an irreplaceable emptiness in his heart and he could not understand why his parents were abandoning him once again.

“Mum, Dad!” he shouted desperately, but Lily and James were already gone.

“Harry. HARRY!” Someone was calling him insistently. He made an effort to open his eyes even though his eyelids seemed too heavy.

“Mum is that you? Mum!” Harry called, panting.

“Harry, you're safe now. Don't be scared, I'm with you.” These words, whispered by a sweet female voice, had a relaxing effect on him. He started to calm down and his breathing returned to normal.

When Harry finally managed to open his eyes, he raised a hand to his face, protecting himself from the feeble light in the room that seemed blinding to him. He looked between his fingers but he didn't recognize the room. From what he could see without his glasses, the furniture was made of dark wood. Through the window, the gentle light of the evening filtered in. The walls seemed to be completely covered with books that reached to the ceiling. On top of the wardrobe sat Hedwig's cage.

“W-where am I?” asked Harry timidly without lowering his hands from his face.

“Everything's all right. I've brought you home.” whispered the girl. Harry's heart jumped in surprise. Moving his hands from his face, he turned toward the person who had just spoken. He smiled at her happily, finally feeling safe.

“Hermione! It's really you? But how...” Harry's question was cut off when she hugged him tightly. Her soft, bushy hair wrapped around his face.

“Oh Harry, I'm so happy you're here. I still can't believe it.”

Harry still felt confused, but his girlfriend's warm embrace slowly reassured him. Even though he couldn't clearly remember what had happened after his fight with Dudley, in his heart he knew that his parents had always watched over him.

Before moving away, Hermione gave him a peck on the cheek and Harry blushed. She then handed him his glasses and he put them on, without getting up from the bed.

Both stared at each other for a few seconds as a weird silence fell between them. Even if it seemed silly, in that particular moment Harry was feeling extremely embarrassed. It was probably because almost one month away from each other had managed to draw them apart more than expected. Hermione looked the same, her bushy hair was falling on her shoulders, her shining brown eyes were deeply excited and happy to be there with him. She was wearing a nice turquoise shirt with long sleeves and a pair of blue jeans.

Harry coughed nervously before speaking. “H-how did I manage to get here? I don't remember.”

“Oh, you won't believe it, everything happened so fast. We've barely had time to organize ourselves. This morning, I received an urgent owl from Dumbledore asking me to go to Privet Drive as soon as possible and take you away from there. Even though the message didn't give much of an explanation, I knew that something dangerous had just happened. I dragged Dad to the car and we rushed to get you.” Hermione stopped for a second to regain her breath as Harry propped himself up with his elbows on the pillow and got seated to listen more carefully.

“When we got there, we found everybody out in the streets, still scared by the earthquake. They said that nothing similar had ever happened in the past. It was clear to me that you and the earthquake were somehow... related.”

Harry tightened his fists on the bed sheets recalling Dudley's taunting. “If that idiot of a cousin had just kept his mouth shut. He was insulting my parents and I totally lost control.”

“I can imagine,” replied Hermione, squeezing his hand with affection. “But I think you should make a stronger effort to control your temper in the future. Didn't you realize what was going to happen? Mastering the elements is a huge responsibility,” she finished, hoping that Harry would understand she was trying to help him; on the contrary, she made him even angrier.

“Easy for you to say. I swear, with my aunt and uncle it is really difficult to keep control.”

“I know, Harry, I know.”

“How could you know? You haven't had to live with them for sixteen years,” continued Harry, starting to lose his temper.

“Merlin's beard, Harry! Why do you still jump down my throat each time I try to help you?” shouted Hermione, exasperated.

In reply, Harry just withdrew his hand from Hermione's and turned his stare in the opposite direction. He knew perfectly well that she was right, but he was sure that anybody would have reacted the same way if put in the same position.

“Hermione?” Mrs. Granger's voice coming from downstairs brought an end to their conversation. “Could you please come here for a moment?”

Hermione slowly drew back her hand, not knowing how to get Harry's attention. “It's Mum. I need to go and help her with dinner. Your trunk is by your bed and your wand is on your bed table. Hedwig is out delivering a message to Dumbledore. I'll call you when dinner is ready, all right?” she said shyly. Harry replied only with a grunt and folded his arms across his chest without turning to look at her.

Slightly wounded, Hermione lowered her gaze and then stood up and slowly left the room, closing the door behind her.

Once alone, Harry thought over what had just happened. I shouldn't have treated Hermione like that, he said to himself, feeling deeply betrayed by his own behavior. She's just trying to help!

Harry sighed deeply before standing up, then slowly moved to the mirror by the window and nervously ran his fingers through his hair. He then went over to his trunk and rummaged through it until he found an almost-decent T-shirt to wear. He took his wand from the bed table and slipped it into his jeans' pocket.

Harry wondered what Hermione's parents were going to think about him: their only daughter's boyfriend who ended up in their house, uninvited, for who knows what weird reason. He looked out the window; the sun had just set behind the hill. Harry had never been to Hermione's before; he had always seen the Grangers only briefly, at King's Cross Station or at Diagon Alley.

He felt an awkward pain in his stomach. What were they going to talk about during dinner? What was the right way to behave in that situation? And what if Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn't like him? What if they asked him to leave their house? Harry couldn't blame them, after all. If they knew only half of what usually happened to him and Hermione during their school year, surely they would send him out of their house immediately.

“Harry, dinner's ready.”

Hermione's voice brought him back to reality. Unfortunately, he couldn't do anything more than gather all his courage and face the Grangers once and for all. He gave a last glance at the mirror before quickly leaving the room.

***O***

“So, Harry. Are you feeling better now? When we got to your place, you looked more dead than alive,” started Mr. Granger, ending the sentence with a cheerful laugh, trying to make the incident seem less dramatic.

The dining room was comfortable, furnished with antique wood furniture, just like the rest of the house. Another thing he noticed was the huge number of books stacked on tall bookcases that lined the walls. The four table companions were sitting at an elegantly arranged table; Mrs. Granger had just brought out a delicious turkey stew with grilled vegetables and baked potatoes. Unfortunately, Harry hadn't had a chance to take a bite before Mr. Granger's question had stopped him with his fork in midair.

Harry lowered his fork and nervously stared at Hermione's father, who was sitting directly in front of him. He was a tall, slim man with short grizzled hair and blue eyes which were looking at Harry with deep curiosity.

Luckily, Hermione intervened in the conversation. “Come on, Dad! Harry is really tired, and I'm sure that you don't want to start with your usual barrage of questions, do you?”

“What barrage of questions?” asked Mr. Granger, surprised.

“Karl, honey, Hermione is right. I'm sure that Harry just wants to finish his dinner and go to bed. Am I right?” Mrs. Granger smiled sweetly with an expression on her face similar to her daughter's. Her eyes were also similar to Hermione's, as was as the bushy brown hair she kept pulled up with a shiny blue clip.

Harry nodded quickly and filled his mouth with a piece of stew. Undeterred, Mr. Granger resumed with his questions.

“I swear, I'm only going to ask a few usual questions like, for example, how's school going? And, what are your plans for the future?”

Again, Harry felt all of the attention on him. He swallowed with difficulty, almost choking on his mouthful. After a good gulp of lemonade, he tried to reply. He was sure he couldn't tell them that his plan for the future was to become an Auror and fight Lord Voldemort.

“Well, actually, I haven't made any plans. Not yet, I mean.” Harry stared significantly at Hermione, who was sitting on his right. She quickly tried to save the situation.

“At school, Harry is the best in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He's first in our class, didn't I tell you?”

“Really? We thought you were first in your class,” replied Mr. Granger, slightly disappointed.

“Honestly, Hermione is the best. Mine was just luck.” said Harry, smiling nervously and immediately filling his mouth with another gulp of lemonade.

“I heard that Little Whinging won a prize recently,” said Mrs. Granger, trying to change the subject. “The most green lawns, if I remember correctly. I bet that your relatives take particularly good care of their own lawn.”

“Yes, you're right.” Harry wanted to add that his aunt and uncle cared more about their lawn than their only nephew, but he thought it better to keep that comment to himself.

Throughout the rest of dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Granger avoided asking any more questions about Harry and just talked about their work day at the dental office. Harry's stomach was definitely full, but he finished his meal anyway, so as to not disappoint Hermione's parents.

For dessert, they had some very good ice cream. When dinner was finally over, Hermione stood up and gathered the dirty dishes.

“Did you like the stew, Harry?” she asked, smiling.

The boy nodded and then turned to Mrs. Granger. “It was excellent.”

“Oh, thank you, but I don't deserve your compliments. Our dear Hermione cooked tonight. Karl and I had been busy until late, and the only thing I had time to prepare was the vegetables.”

Harry turned to Hermione, surprised. “You know how to cook?”

“Well, actually, I just realized that there isn't much difference between making dinner and preparing a magical potion. You just need to follow the instructions, that's all.” Hermione winked at Harry as she set the plates into a small stack. She then addressed her parents. “Mum, Dad, why don't you go into the living room and relax, while Harry and I clean the kitchen?”

“Thank you, dear,” replied Mrs. Granger, planting a huge kiss on her daughter's forehead.

“Now Harry, I'm sure I can trust you to behave like a gentleman with my only daughter here,” Mr. Granger "warned" Harry, staring at him intently.

“Oh for Heaven's sake, Karl! Are you being jealous about your defenseless little baby girl?” retorted Mrs. Granger as she dragged her husband away by the arm.

Mr. Granger protested but his words arrived indistinctly from the other room.

Finally alone, Harry and Hermione smiled at each other.

“They're nice,” said Harry, starting to relax.

“They're the best parents in the world,” Hermione confirmed.

Once in the kitchen, Hermione rolled up her sleeves and started cleaning the dishes, as Harry helped dry them with a towel.

An awkward silence fell between the two of them and the odd feeling of nervousness and being embarrassed rose again in Harry's heart. He wondered how long he should stay with the Grangers and when he was going to hear any news from Dumbledore. Maybe Hermione knew something more.

“Have you...” started Harry, then he paused, to find the right words, but Hermione cut him off abruptly.

“I know what you're going to ask. And the answer is no. Well, not yet,” replied Hermione, without turning to look at him. “Actually, I'm sure they suspect something already, but it is a bit difficult to talk about something like that with your parents,” said Hermione, all in one breath, blushing slightly.

Harry was surprised by her answer. He wanted to ask, “Have you asked Dumbledore if we're going to Grimmauld Place soon?” Surely Hermione was talking about something else.

“About all I've told Mum is that we've become closer friends in the last few months. But they don't know yet that we're going out together,” she added, nervously.

“I understand...” Harry had just realized what Hermione was talking about, and he honestly didn't know if he should feel offended or reassured by her explanation. “Maybe it's stupid, but I felt so nervous tonight. I didn't want to make a bad impression with your parents,” explained Harry as he put the dishes in the cupboard.

“Oh, don't be silly. Everything's gone perfectly.” Hermione reassured him, laughing amusedly at Harry's comment. “Why don't we go upstairs? I'll show you my bedroom.”

***O***

Hermione's bedroom was an exact copy of the dormitories at Hogwarts, the same canopy bed with Crookshanks sleeping on top of it, the same curtains on the windows embroidered with the Gryffindor coat of arms, even the same furniture, ancient and worm-holed. The only difference was that bookshelves with thousands of books covered the walls up to the ceiling.

Entering the room, Harry couldn't do anything other than express what was in his mind. “Wow, how many books do you have?”

“Actually, the truth is that both of my parents loved to read when they were young. When they got married, they combined all of their books. The result now is that all of the walls of our house are completely covered by bookcases.”

“And have you read all of them?” asked Harry, curious, running his finger along the first shelf on his right, labeled “MAGICAL PLANTS AND SIMILAR, A - K.”

“Well, almost. I only missed a couple,” replied Hermione with false modesty, reaching her bed and sitting gracefully. Absentmindedly, she started brushing Crookshanks' furry neck and the fat orange cat turned to her, purring.

“I feel like I'm at Hogwarts here,” commented Harry, smiling.

“Since I returned home last month, I've done my best to transform my room into what you see now. Since next year will be our last one, I just wanted my room to remind me as much as possible of our years at school. I've used a bit of magic, of course.”

“Lucky you!” affirmed Harry, sitting by her side.

Suddenly, Crookshanks jumped toward him and landed on top of his knees, curling himself up.

“Hello Crookshanks.” Harry scratched his head and he started purring again. “You don't know how much I want to finally be able to use magic as much as I want, without always having the Ministry chasing after me.”

“Come on, Harry. It's your birthday soon. There isn't too long to wait, I guess.”

Hermione was right; on July 31, Harry would turn seventeen, and he would finally become a legal adult. This thought made him think over the situation.

“Isn't that strange? After all that happened this morning at Privet Drive, the Ministry hasn't sent me any official owls.” Naturally, Harry was referring to the Ministry Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, but Hermione didn't seem concerned about it.

“You weren't using magic. Mastering the elements is one of your natural powers, an ability that you've carried with you since you were born. Technically, you haven't broken any Ministry laws.”

Harry thought about it for a second and then realized that Hermione was right. He felt uplifted by this, as if until that moment, the specter of having again infringed upon the laws of the magical world had unconsciously weighed upon his heart.

He looked around and realized that he had found himself alone with Hermione in her bedroom. This thought caused an awkward feeling in his stomach; his hands started to become sweaty, and he rubbed them against his jeans to dry them. Suddenly, it felt as though all the air had gone missing, and Harry forced himself to look anywhere except in Hermione's direction.

Maybe she was expecting him to hold her hand or to kiss her. Harry wondered why those two simple actions seemed as difficult as a school exam. Nevertheless, she was still the same Hermione as always; nothing had changed between them since their farewell at the train station a few weeks ago.

Harry desperately thought about something to say to put an end to the embarrassing silence. “Have you... have you heard news from Ron?” he spoke with slight trembling voice.

“A few days ago. He sent me a short letter saying that he and Luna were fine.”

“Do you think that he should know that I'm staying with you?” he asked, uncertain.

“It isn't a good idea,” answered Hermione seriously. “Our mail could easily be intercepted and fall into wrong hands. It's best we not advertise your presence here too much.”

“Yeah, you're right.” The last thing Harry wanted was to put Hermione and her parents in danger.

“Besides, I'm sure Mrs. Weasley already told him. Don't worry!”

Again, silence fell between them. Harry raised his gaze and stared at a few Muggle pictures on the bed table. Some of them were out of focus, and they were mostly of little Hermione with her parents, smiling happily at one another. A twinge of envy invaded Harry's heart.

“Nice pictures.”

“Oh, nothing special. Look at this.” Hermione indicated one with herself as a little girl sitting on the knees of a woman resembling Mrs. Granger. “It's my Aunt Jane, Mum's sister. I owe her my middle name and my passion for studying. My parents have always been really busy with their jobs, and I spent most of my days with Aunt Jane. Thanks to her, I was able to read and write perfectly by the time I was three.”

“Where is she now?” asked Harry, absentmindedly.

“Unfortunately, she's gone,” replied Hermione, lowering her voice. “She left us a few years ago.”

“I-I'm sorry, I didn't know...”

“Oh, don't worry, how could you know?” Hermione smiled slightly, and then became serious and lowered her gaze to the floor.

Harry felt so guilty. Instinctively, he stretched out his arm and placed it around her shoulder, moving her closer to him; Hermione rested her head on his chest. In that moment, he felt as if everything between them had returned to the same as before, as if their hearts were again close to each other.

“Do you ever think about the future?” asked Harry. Hermione raised her head to stare directly into his eyes.

“Sometimes, why?”

“I think about it quite often,” replied Harry, seriously. “I think about this war and wonder when it's going to end. I wonder if my friends and the ones I care for are going to survive, if we'll still be alive in a year, or in ten, or twenty, but I can't find a good answer. One of my powers is foresight, but I'm terribly afraid to look into the future.”

“It's better that we just deal with our present. We're writing our future day by day.”

“Are you sure about that?” Harry moved from her and stood up abruptly, causing Crookshanks to fall on the floor. The cat hissed at him menacingly and left the room, deeply offended.

Harry started to pace the room, and then spoke again. “What if our future is already written, what if it's already set. Why should we keep fighting?”

“Please, don't say that!” Hermione stood up also and stopped right in front of him.

“Take the Prophecy, for example. `Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives!'”

“The Prophecy doesn't mean anything at all,” said Hermione, moving closer to him and hugging him tenderly. “Our future depends on our present, on the choices that we make today. Everything is yet to be decided, everything.”

Harry hugged her tightly in return, hiding his face in her soft hair. He closed his eyes and smelled her light perfume, a mixture of wild rose and vanilla. Hermione looked so small, so fragile in his strong arms. “I wish it could be true,” he whispered.

“It is true, if you want it to be,” she replied, firmly.

Both remained in the arms of the other, trying to reassure each other. Harry desperately wanted to push back all the doubts and fears he felt in his heart. And he succeeded, as long as he remained at Hermione's side. Unfortunately, he knew perfectly well that during the night, those doubts and fears would come back to haunt again, like dark devilish shadows.

***O***

Once again, Harry was walking through a dark maze of stone walls, holding his lit wand in his right hand. He made several turns until he reached the center of the maze. In front of him, a partially closed iron door appeared.

The door slowly opened and he went inside with great caution; the room was dirty and had a stone floor and walls. He saw a man huddled in a corner of the room. Harry moved closer and suddenly, the man raised his head toward him.

“Mark!” exclaimed Harry, surprised.

Mark looked as if he didn't recognize Harry; he kept staring at Harry with fear, moving as far away as he could, up against the wall behind him. “Nooo! Go away! Don't come any closer. Don't hurt me.” Mark shouted, his eyes widening in fear.

Harry slowly moved closer. “It's me, it's Harry! Mark, take my hand. Come with me.” Harry exhorted, stretching his arm out. As soon as he had lowered his gaze to his hands, Harry shouted in horror. Long skeleton-like fingers stuck out of his sleeves.

Harry drew back, bewildered, still staring at his hands. “It isn't true! It's not me! It's not me!” When he raised his head, he realized in horror that in Mark's place was now Hermione. She was staring at him in disgust, squeezed against the wall, as far away from him as possible.

“Hermione, it's me. PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED!” implored Harry, moving closer, but she covered her face with her hands, crying.

Then, a laugh echoed evilly in Harry's mind, and a cold voice spoke.

“You are my equal. Fight at my side, or die!”

“No! I won't! Do you hear me? I'LL NEVER JOIN YOU, NEVER!”

Shouting desperately, Harry woke up, abruptly sitting up in bed. His forehead and pajamas were damp with sweat and his brain was completely upside-down. He raised a hand to his scar, which was throbbing painfully, and felt that it was hot.

In the darkness of the night, a light in the hallway switched on, and shortly, his door opened, revealing the slim silhouette of Hermione.

“Harry, what's happened?” she whispered, running toward him.

“N-nothing. E-everything all right,” Harry lied, forcing himself to regain control. Hermione switched on a small lamp on his bed table and Harry raised his arm to his face to shield his eyes.

“Was it another of your nightmares?” she asked quietly, handing him his glasses and Harry nodded, not strong enough to speak yet.

As soon as he had lowered his arm to take his glasses, Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, no! Look at your scar!” she exclaimed, raising a hand to brush it. Suddenly, Harry grabbed her wrist just before she was able to touch his forehead.

Both of them stared into each other's eyes. Harry had a look on his face the same as a wounded animal and Hermione couldn't understand his sudden reaction.

“Harry? Hermione? Is everything all right?” The alarmed voice of Mr. Granger made them jump in their places.

Harry dropped her wrist and Hermione quickly withdrew her arm. “Yes, Dad.

E-everything is all right. It was just a bad nightmare, don't worry,” she replied with a trembling voice.

Mrs. Granger also peeped in from the hallway, staring at the two worriedly. “Are you sure that Harry wouldn't like some chamomile tea or something else to help calm him?”

“Thanks Mrs. Granger, but I'm fine. Seriously,” replied Harry, forcing himself to smile.

“Mum, Dad, why don't you go back to bed? I'm going shortly, Harry's fine now,” insisted Hermione; reluctantly, her parents wished them good night and returned to their bedroom.

Harry sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall, as Hermione sat by his side.

“Do you want to tell me what's happened?” she asked, uncertain.

“It's always the same nightmare,” started Harry, after a few seconds of silence. “It's night and I'm walking along a stone corridor. Then I reach a cell, and inside is Mark. When I move closer to him I... I... I wake up,” he finished, unable to tell her the part where he had the appearance of Voldemort.

“The meaning is clear.” Hermione spoke with her usual know-it-all tone. “This nightmare represents your worries and insecurities. I bet you've had the same nightmare for quite a while.”

“Yeah...” replied Harry, swaying his gaze from her and turning to stare at Hedwig's empty cage on top of the wardrobe. He wondered what Hermione's interpretation could have been if he had told her exactly how the entire nightmare ended.

“Why didn't you tell me before? I thought we weren't going to keep secrets.”

“I didn't want to worry you, OK?” replied Harry, annoyed, still not looking at her.

Hermione softened her voice. “I could've helped you.”

“Are you serious?” asked Harry, raising his voice and turning abruptly to her. “Nobody can help me. Nobody. I've even tried with Occlumency. I've tried to empty my mind before going to sleep, but it's useless.”

Hermione felt deeply sorry for him. She stretched out her arm and squeezed his hand with affection. “I'm with you now. You know that I would do anything for you.”

They looked at each other, and Harry felt his resentment melting away. He knew that Hermione would always be there by his side.

“I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“It's all right, don't worry.” Hermione smiled sweetly and gently brushed his cheek with her fingers. “It's best if we go back to sleep, or my parents will get worried again.”

Finishing her sentence, she slowly moved closer and kissed him on the lips. Harry shuddered all over and felt that odd lurch in his stomach. He closed his eyes and followed his emotions.

“Good night, Harry,” said Hermione, moving away. Harry's mind was upside-down again and he didn't reply. He just sat there, staring at her like an idiot as she reached the door and left the room.

Once alone, he sank back into the bed sheets and hid his face under the pillow, smiling. That kiss had made him forget all of his worries. For the rest of the night, he wasn't able to do anything except think of Hermione. When he finally managed to fall asleep, through the window it was possible to see the first light of the morning.

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(A/N: Here we are with another chapter! I wish to thank who has written a review and also those who have read the story without leaving a review... I need to point out, that I'm basing the story to what J.K. Rowling has recently posted on her official web site, like for example, Hermione's age; J.K. Rowling has stated that Hermione is older than Ron and Harry! Since Hermione's birthday is on 19th September, when she started her first year at Hogwarts on 1st September she was already 11 and turned 12 the next 19th September! The reason is that in England, law says that in order to start school, a child should be 11 years old. Said so, since this story starts during the summer before Harry's 7th school year, we already know that Hermione and Ron are 17, while Harry will be 17 on 31st july. I wish to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr for his great job! Now, I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter.)

Chapter 3. MAGNUS ERUDIO

The sun was high in the sky and its warm rays now completely lit the bedroom; Harry was still deep in sleep, tightly hugging the pillow in his arms, all of the bed sheets on the floor.

Suddenly, the silence of the room was interrupted by the sound of an insistent tapping on the window. After about fifteen minutes, the tapping became frantic, almost crazed. Finally, Harry slowly started to wake up; he first moved his legs and shifted position, then he turned on his other side. Realizing that the annoying noise wasn't going to stop, Harry murmured something that sounded like “Five more minutes, Aunt Petunia.”

When the events of the previous day came back to his mind, Harry abruptly opened his eyes and snapped up on the bed like a rubber band. He put on his glasses and looked around for the source of the noise.

“Hedwig!” Harry's owl was still trying to attract his attention, perched in front of the window. Harry quickly jumped out of bed and rushed to let her in. Hedwig flew in, glided gracefully in a large circle inside the room close to the ceiling, and then landed softly on the bed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you,” said Harry, sitting by her side and unrolling a small envelope from her leg. In reply, Hedwig started to peck at his fingers nervously.

“Ouch! I said I'm sorry!” exclaimed Harry, massaging his stinging hand.

Her task completed, the white owl took flight again, reaching her cage on top of the wardrobe where she perched herself, anticipating a well deserved rest.

Without wasting time, Harry opened the envelope and read the short note inside.

“Be ready for your transfer. Anytime is OK, starting from now. -Remus Lupin.”

“Thanks a lot. What the hell does that mean, `Anytime is OK?'” commented Harry aloud. The message could have meant anything. Still wearing his pajamas, he left the bedroom and rushed to Hermione's door. He knocked several times, but nobody replied.

“Hermione?” Harry called, uncertain. Then, he slowly turned the handle and entered. Everything was clean and tidy, the bed made, the desk cleared, but Hermione wasn't there.

Maybe she's already downstair. It's probably late. I'm not even at home and I'm making a bad impression with the Grangers, he thought, embarrassed, feeling again that annoying pain in his stomach, the doubt from finding himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Harry closed the door and ran downstairs. The first floor was deserted; the living room and the dining room were awkwardly quiet. Heading to the kitchen, finally he heard a few voices. Harry entered and found Hermione standing in front of the TV, with her back to him. When he walked in, the anchor was reporting on a devastating attack at a dance club in a nearby town.

“...one of the saddest tragedies in recent memory. The dance club unexplainably exploded during the night, causing the deaths of at least one hundred teenagers and wounding several hundred more. The cause is still under investigation. There are reports that several hooded individuals were seen standing around the building for no apparent reason just minutes prior to the explosion. Police fear that these individuals may also be responsible for a number of incidents in the past several months that, until today, had been considered mysterious accidents, although officials have refused to publicly comment on how that connection was made. A source familiar with the investigation said that it was, in fact, the total lack of any cause for all of these accidents that had linked them. Even accidents, the source said, have causes - faulty wiring, metal fatigue, and the like - and unless you believe that a building will magically blow up on its own, the complete and total lack of any evidence or cause itself suggests human involvement, whatever that involvement may be. We will, of course, keep you updated with any new developments.

Yesterday morning, the quiet town of Little Whinging, Surrey, was shaken by a sudden earthquake. Seismologists say that this event is especially notable, as there is no record of any seismic event of this type having ever occurred in that area. Fortunately, there were no injuries or damage caused by this earthquake.

The mayor of Londondarry has approved a tax ch...”

At that moment, Hermione switched off the TV. When she turned and saw Harry, she suddenly jumped on the spot, shouting.

“For heaven's sake, Harry!” she exclaimed, deeply annoyed, raising a hand to her heart.

“I'm sorry. You were watching the news and I didn't want to distract you.”

“Well, you could've at least said hello,” she replied sharply. She then went to the cupboard and quickly took out a few cups and dishes.

“Are you upset about the attack at the dance club?” Harry asked, after debating the right words to not upset her even more. “Anti-Muggle attack?” he commented.

“Any doubt?” replied Hermione, forcefully setting the cups on the table and then turning to look at him.

“No doubt,” whispered Harry sadly. “They feel stronger, as if nobody can stop them,” he said with conviction.

“Yeah... I also want to know if the wizards of the Order are organizing themselves,” said Hermione bitterly as she poured hot tea in one of the cups. She was sure that Dumbledore would keep both of them in the dark regarding the plans of the Order of the Phoenix.

Suddenly, the letter from Lupin returned to Harry's mind. “I've just received this.”

“It was about time,” she said, grabbing the note from his hands and reading it quickly. “It's best if I go and say goodbye to Mum and Dad, since Lupin could arrive at any minute. In the meantime, you can have your breakfast, Harry. Mum made some cake this morning. I'll be back in a minute, OK?”

“Hermione!” Harry called back to her as she was leaving the kitchen. She slowly turned to him, her hand still on the door handle. “Everything will be all right,” he said, smiling slightly. Hermione nodded and forced herself to smile, still feeling awkward inside.

***O***

“Magus Studiorum? What the bloody hell does that mean?”

Harry and Hermione's arrival at the Burrow was welcomed by the hysterical shouting of Ron coming from the kitchen. They had just appeared inside the Weasley's huge fireplace, traveling via Floo Powder. As they stepped into the living room, there was another burst of green flame and inside the fireplace appeared Remus Lupin, dragging with him their trunks, Crookshanks' basket, and Hedwig's cage. His clothes were scruffy as usual, and his face looked paler and more worried than ever.

“Ronald Weasley, it's what we've decided and I don't want to hear anything more from you!” The acute voice of Mrs. Weasley overshadowed her son's. Ron, nonetheless, answered back, shouting even more.

“It's not fair! Why don't Bill, Charlie, and Percy have to do it too? And above all, why does it have to be during our summer holidays?”

Mother and son entered the living room still bickering and didn't notice that Harry, Hermione, and Lupin were already there. It was funny to see how Mrs. Weasley, rather short and round, was still able to hold her own against Ron, who was taller than her. He seemed to have grown even more in the past month; his face was full of freckles as usual and his hair was still carrot-like, though a bit longer.

“Hem hem. Good morning, Molly. Is everything all right?” asked Lupin, uncertain. Mrs. Weasley looked surprised to see them; her face lit up with a large smile and she rearranged her clothes with her hands before speaking. Ron, however, cut her off abruptly.

“No! Everything is NOT all right!” he said, furiously. “Tell me, whose wonderful idea was this?”

“Ron, please, try to understand. The Headmaster thinks that it's better this way,” Lupin spoke quietly, trying his best to convince Ron. His efforts seemed useless.

“I don't care. I won't go!” replied Ron firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were watching the scene disbelievingly, unable to catch the sense of the discussion.

“Ron, didn't you notice that Harry and Hermione are here as well?” Mrs. Weasley scolded him. She then moved over to the newcomers and hugged them tightly. “Welcome my dears. You don't know how happy I am to see you again. Is everything all right, Harry?”

“Y-yes, Mrs. Weasley, thanks,” replied Harry politely, not knowing what to think of Ron's behavior.

“Come on, boys. It's best you go upstairs now. I need a minute to speak with Molly, and then we'll leave,” Lupin told them while heading to the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley.

Once alone, the three friends stared at each other, perplexed. “What's going on?” asked Harry nervously. Instead of replying, Ron rushed upstairs, muttering something barely comprehensible that Harry and Hermione took as “Follow me and I'll tell you.”

Reaching the upper floor, Ron opened his bedroom door and entered, followed by his two best friends who were still looking at him astonished.

“It's all Dumbledore's fault, as usual! As soon as I get back to school, I'm giving him an earful of exactly what I think.”

“Why don't you calm down for a minute and give us a clear explanation of what's going on?” asked Hermione, raising her voice tone as she closed the door behind her.

“Fine! Do you know where Lupin is escorting us? To some forgotten place up in the North, to do some kind of training by some unknown wizard.”

“What?” Harry and Hermione asked in unison.

“I thought we were going to Grimmauld Place like we did last year. What's this news?” Harry couldn't believe it. More than anything, he was annoyed by the fact that once again the Headmaster had made plans without asking his opinion first.

“I don't care about Dumbledore's reasons, I won't go. I said it and I mean it! I'm of age now and no one can force me. I don't want to waste the last month of our summer holiday cleaning thousands of dirty cauldrons in the house of... I don't know who,” shouted Ron, moving closer to the window and staring at the fields outside. “Not now that everything was perfect between me and Luna,” he added bitterly.

“Come on, Ron! Surely Dumbledore knows what's best for...”

“Honestly, Hermione, we all know too well what Dumbledore's reasons are.” Harry cut her off. “He just wants us to be as far away as possible from the war. With the excuse of this training, he'll be able to keep us in the dark again. How stupid I was to hope that we were going to be able join the Order of the Phoenix anytime soon.”

“I trust Dumbledore. And you should trust him too. Have you already forgotten what happened last year? Following Mark Evan's madness, we almost got killed.” Hermione's great determination helped Harry to think about what had happened; he lowered his gaze sadly. “At least you, Harry, try to understand.”

Hermione was right. Only a couple of months ago, Harry was lying on a bed, battling between life and death. His best friends had also nearly lost their lives. After what had happened, Harry had decided to trust Dumbledore more in the future and willingly accept any advice the Headmaster gave him. He knew that the best thing to do for now was to follow Dumbledore's request without objecting.

“Harry, Ron, Hermione?” Lupin's voice coming from downstairs made them jump in their places. “We need to go, now.”

Harry and Hermione stared at each other uncertainly. The young witch spoke first. “I'm going with Lupin. Are you coming with me, Harry?”

He sighed deeply and nodded. He then turned to Ron, who was still staring intently out the window. “Will you change your mind? You're right. You're seventeen now and nobody can force you, not even me. It's just that... well, we've always faced everything together and...”

“Oh, damn! Of course I'm coming with you,” shouted Ron, kicking the nearby bed table. He then turned to the other two. “Goodbye, month of holidays with Luna! But I'm sure you guys won't have any fun without me,” he said, resigned.

The three friends smiled at each other; Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder as Hermione walked out into the hallway. “Do you need help with your trunk, Ronald?” she asked, thoughtfully.

“No thanks. Mum packed everything early this morning. You can't imagine how anxious she was for me to leave the house.”

Harry smiled, sincerely happy that Ron had changed his mind. He didn't know what was waiting for them, but he was sure that, once again, he was going to face the situation with his two best friends by his side.

***O***

With a burst of green flame, Harry appeared inside a huge stone fireplace. The room was so dark it seemed like twilight around him; a deep, piercing cold penetrated his bones as he coughed from the strong smell of sulfur. Dragging his trunk with his left hand and Hedwig's cage with his right, he stepped out of the fireplace just in time before Hermione appeared behind him.

“What is this place?” she asked, brushing soot away from her face and clothes. She set Crookshanks' basket on the floor and looked around, curious.

A few seconds later, Ron appeared in the fireplace coughing loudly. “Hey, I bet it's been ages since anyone cleaned in here,” he commented, reaching his friends. “Where the bloody hell are we?”

Before their departure from the Burrow, no one had told them exactly were they were going. To get there by Floo Powder, the three friends only knew that they had to pronounce clearly the name of the place: Hermitage.

A fourth roar of flame behind them announced the arrival of Lupin. “Here we are. Oh, I'm sorry. INCENDIO!” He pointed his wand and at his order, all of the candles in the room lit up, revealing a huge rectangular hall.

It was clear that they had found themselves inside a medieval castle. The many suits of armor standing against the stone walls were reminiscent of the ones at Hogwarts. The ancient floor was decorated with large tapestries and purple carpets, as twenty huge circular iron chandeliers hung from the high ceiling. The small windows were high up to the ceiling and were decorated with mosaics depicting battle scenes, knights on their horses, and elegant ladies.

“I-it's wonderful!” exclaimed Hermione, moving closer to one of the tapestries hanging on the wall that depicted an old witch wearing ragged, colored clothes, her arms tied around her back. She was slowly walking to the stake, escorted by two jailers in uniform. “This one seems extremely old. I'd say that it dates back to the High Middle Age.”

The old witch turned to Hermione, wishing to be more specific. “Year A.D. 536, milady,” she croaked and the two jailers nodded with a slight movement of their heads.

“Who lives in this castle?” asked Harry, staring at the tapestry not knowing whether he should feel sorry for the old witch or not.

“You're going to meet him soon. He's a solitary wizard and he usually doesn't like to go out in public. He's a really good friend of Albus Dumbledore. Let's go this way.” Lupin guided the others through the hall until they reached a tall door made of dark wood. Before opening it, a small house-elf appeared in front of them.

“You're very welcome to the Hermitage Castle. My master is waiting for you. You can leave your belongings here. Please, follow me.” The house-elf wasn't too different than Dobby; he had the same pointed ears, the same long nose, and two large, green eyes. He was wearing a dirty handkerchief tied up to his waist. The elf looked rather young, though Harry couldn't say for sure exactly what his age was.

The small magical creature escorted them through another huge hall where all the walls were covered with books. As they walked through, Hermione grabbed tight onto Harry's arm enthusiastically. Ron looked completely indifferent and Harry thought for sure he was still wondering why he had agreed to join them.

Other large rooms followed, each one different than the rest. In one room, the walls were covered by weapons, all methodically displayed from the more common to the most unusual. They then passed through a room where the walls and ceiling were all made of mirrors; there was even a room filled with a collection of Wizards' Chess sets, sets of every kind and from every country in the world.

Along the way, several ghosts greeted them as they hovered in midair; beautiful ladies wearing large skirts with lace were giving their arms to valiant knights. Most of them seemed rather polite, since were bowing deeply at the newcomers.

Finally, the house-elf reached a very small room that looked like an antechamber. Long wooden benches were sitting around the room and several ancient geographical maps were hanging from the walls, encased in fancy golden frames.

“The young guests can wait in this room while their escort will enter in the study to meet with my master. Please, this way.”

Lupin turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione before following the elf. “It won't take too long. I'll be back in a few minutes.”

Once alone, the three friends looked around.

“This castle gives me the shivers. Who do you think lives here?” asked Ron, pulling his shirt tighter around himself.

“Magnus Erudio,” replied Hermione, readily. “An emeritus alchemist and researcher, Order of Merlin First Class, Member of the International Confederation of Wizards, Honorary Warlock on the Wizengamot - the Wizard High Court - Discoverer of the one hundred uses of Graphorn horns, Trainer of Griffins, Thestrals, and Manticores.”

“How do you know all these things? Yeah... I almost forgot. You know everything!” exclaimed Ron, resigned, doing his best to hide his surprise. In reply, Hermione simply pointed her finger at a golden sign plate hanging on the door through which Lupin and the house-elf had just entered.

“This Magnus Erudio should get his face printed on the chocolate frog cards,” observed Harry. “What do you think we're going to do here?”

“No idea. I just hope we'll be able to finish our homework,” commented Hermione, sitting on a nearby bench. “I'm almost done with it, but I don't want to rush a few days before school starts.”

Harry and Ron exchanged a sad look, since neither of them had started their homework yet. In any case, that wasn't their primary concern at the moment.

Suddenly, the house-elf appeared in front of them with a loud POP. “My master is ready to welcome you now. Please follow me.”

The three friends followed the house-elf through the small door with the golden plate, then walked through a narrow, dark corridor. In that moment, Harry's scar throbbed painfully, making him stop with his hands on his forehead. An awkward feeling caught him and wondered the reason for it.

Ahead of him, Ron and Hermione, not noticing, continued walking until they reached a second door as the house-elf opened it. The study was completely filled with books. Piles were on the floor; thousands of books were stacked in tall towers that reached the ceiling. The walls were covered with shelves containing dusty stills and glass bottles of all shapes and colors. The only light in the room was from a few lit candles here and there, along with a few rays of sunshine that were filtering in with great difficulty through a small square window close to the ceiling.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were barely able to navigate the disorder. When they reached the opposite side of the room, they could finally see a large desk, covered by towers of books. Oddly, on each side of the desk were about ten pieces of parchment that were hanging in midair as an equal number of quills wrote on them at great speed. Harry was reminded of Rita Skeeter's charmed quill that diligently wrote down words as its impertinent owner spoke.

The small house-elf stopped in front of the huge desk and spoke to his master, who apparently was sitting behind it. “Here are your guests, sir.”

“Thank you, Wizzy,” replied a deep voice. “You can go now.”

At his master's order, Wizzy disappeared with a sudden POP.

After a few minutes of silence, which Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent looking at each other uncertainly, they stood on their toes in turn and peered over the tall mountain of books on the desk. Unfortunately, the only thing they could see of Magnus Erudio was the top of his hat. It didn't look like an ordinary wizard's hat, as its tip was curled forward, giving the impression of a twisted horn made of purple cloth.

The warlock stubbornly remained in silence; because of this the three friends felt more and more awkward. More than this though, Harry's scar was still burning painfully and he was doing his best to not brush his forehead with his hand.

A few more minutes of silence passed by, the only audible noise was the scribbling of the quills hanging in midair. Finally, Hermione cleared her voice and spoke first. “I-I'm sorry, sir. We are...”

“I know perfectly well who you are,” grunted Erudio, unexpectedly; the quills stopped writing, remaining still with their tips ready in waiting on the parchments. Then, the warlock turned to Harry. “Any troubles, Mr. Potter?”

At those words, the pain in Harry's scar disappeared. A little disoriented by the sudden stop, it took him a few seconds to reply. “N-no, sir. I'm fine!”

“Very well, very well,” whispered Erudio. “And you Mr. Weasley?” he thundered.

“I-I'm fine as well, sir,” replied Ron with a trembling voice.

“Very well. My name is Magnus Erudio, but you may still call me `Sir.' Surely you are wondering what you're going to be doing in this secluded place, in this castle that gives you the shivers.” The warlock used the same words Ron had expressed just shortly before. “I'll tell you, then. We are here for a Magus Studiorum, a sort of magical training, a period of time in which you will practice all that you have learned during your six years of study at Hogwarts. Nothing more and nothing less will be asked of you.”

Magnus Erudio stopped for a few seconds, during which Ron shot a worried look at his friends.

“I won't ask you to clean thousands of dirty cauldrons, if that is what is worrying you Mr. Weasley.” At these words, Harry and Ron looked at each other disbelievingly.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione had just raised her hand in the air, and when she had permission, she spoke. “I was wondering, sir, if we'll have enough time to finish our homework.” This question expressed her major concern regarding their stay at the castle.

“Be assured, Miss Granger, that you'll have enough time. Your duties will only take a few hours during the day, and you'll be free Saturdays and Sundays. After all, you're still on holiday, right?” commented Erudio sarcastically. “Yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione had raised her hand again, and Harry nudged her with his elbow, fearing that too many questions during the first meeting wasn't a good idea. Unsurprisingly, she paid no attention to it and continued with her question. “Our escort, Remus Lupin, told us to wait for him in the anteroom, since...”

“I dismissed Remus Lupin just before letting you in. He wishes you a pleasant stay and says good bye,” replied Erudio, not giving any opening for further questions on that subject. “The entire castle, including the park, is at your disposal. As you've surely noticed by now, each room contains a rare collection, fruits of studying and research. The only place that is strictly forbidden is the west wing of the castle, where my rooms are. You are not allowed in that area for any reason in the world. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir!” replied Harry, Ron, and Hermione in unison.

“Now you may go. Wizzy will show you to your rooms.” As soon as Erudio finished his sentence, the small house-elf appeared in front of them.

“Please, follow me this way,” said Wizzy, bowing deeply to them before heading to the door.

“There is one last thing.”

The three friends were already moving away when Erudio called them abruptly and they turned again. When they saw him standing behind his desk, their surprise was great. Tall and still vigorous despite his age, Magnus Erudio towered over the mountain of books. He wore a sumptuous purple robe, and had a long gray beard that reached down to his belt; under his horn-like hat, he looked completely bald. The elderly and pale face showed long, deep scars, probably resulting from his risky interest in the most dangerous magical beasts. The most striking feature, however, was his eyes: two deep blue irises, veiled by blindness.

“I need to apologize, as I won't be able to join you tonight for dinner. We'll meet tomorrow morning, in front of the north wing stalls. I wish you a very good night.”

***O***

Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the house-elf upstairs until they reached the third floor where their rooms were.

Small and simple, the rooms were furnished with the minimum needed to live. Harry and Ron's room had two canopy beds made of wormwood with no curtains, a corner wardrobe, a small stone fireplace, and a large desk under a small window, the only source of light aside from a few candles hanging on the walls. Hermione's room was similar, but was situated on the floor above.

Their trunks were already by their beds, in addition to Crookshanks' basket and Hedwig's cage. Ron had decided to leave Pig at home this time.

Once alone, the three friends gathered in the boys' room and shared their first impressions. Harry and Hermione sat on the bed close to each other, while Ron stood by the window, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“Was it clear to you? I mean, that he was blind?” asked Ron, alarmed.

“How could we know? It looked like his eyes were fixed on the three of us. He even noticed that I raised my hand twice,” replied Hermione, shrugging her shoulders.

“There's something odd about him. I don't know what, but...” Harry didn't finish the sentence, and dipped again in his thoughts.

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione, frowning at him.

“Well, Hermione, think about it. He knew exactly what we were doing, even though he was blind. He even knew what we were thinking or saying a few hours earlier. Listen to me, there's nothing to trust about this wizard,” commented Ron.

“Maybe the fact that he's blind has made him more sensitive than normal wizards. That could explain why he knew exactly what was happening around him,” suggested Hermione.

“Right, but I'm sure that there's something else,” started Harry. “He was able to read our thoughts, but also...” he stopped abruptly and lowered his gaze to the floor, not knowing if it was wise to tell them about his scar.

“What then?” asked Hermione, impatiently.

Harry raised his gaze. “Before entering the study, I felt a pain in my scar.”

Hermione's eyes widened. “Why didn't you tell us right then?”

“I can't tell you every time. My scar burns so often!” exclaimed Harry, annoyed. “The odd thing was that when Erudio asked me if I was fine, the pain stopped abruptly, as if it never happened in the first place.

“I don't think that Magnus Erudio is a Death Eater or Voldemort's servant, if that's what you mean. We shouldn't forget that the Headmaster sent us here. If you want my opinion, Erudio is just really good at Legilimency, just like Dumbledore,” said Hermione, firmly.

“So, how do you explain what Harry just told us?” asked Ron, even more perplexed. “I still don't trust that wizard and it'll be better if we keep our eyes open.”

“All right, we'll keep our eyes open, as we always do! But I strongly hope that you don't start with your strange suspicions without having any real clues,” said Hermione, making clearing her point of view on the subject. Then she sighed deeply, stood up, and headed to the door. “I'm getting ready for dinner. I'll see you later.”

Before leaving the room, she stared at Harry for a few seconds. He was still sitting on the bed, immersed in his thoughts. Realizing that Hermione was looking at him intensely, he turned to her and quickly waved his hand. “See you later,” he said, smiling; Hermione rolled her eyes and then closed the door behind her.

As soon as the two boys were alone, Ron frowned at Harry before speaking with a critical tone. “What was that?”

“What do you mean?” asked Harry, slightly embarrassed.

Ron reached the bed and sat by Harry's side. “Is everything OK between you and Hermione?” he whispered.

“Of course!” replied Harry at once. “Why are you asking?”

“Because, that wasn't exactly the best way to say goodbye to YOUR girlfriend,” continued Ron maliciously.

Harry didn't know what to say. It had been a long time since he and Ron had talked about girls, especially about their girlfriends. Harry slowly stretched out on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Ron was right; he wasn't behaving normally, after all. There was something missing, but Harry couldn't understand what it was.

“Are you still in love with her?” asked Ron, abruptly.

“Damn, Ron! Of course I love her!” replied Harry, feeling his temper rising.

“What's the problem, then? You love her, she loves you. Listen to me, when you're with Hermione, don't waste your time thinking! Follow your feelings.”

“Are you a love expert, now?” asked Harry, trying to avoid the subject.

“I'm not an expert. I've only spent a whole month with my girlfriend this summer, and I've followed a few of Fred and George's suggestions, that's all.”

Harry tried to imagine the twins giving advices about girls, and laughed. “Thanks, but you don't need to worry. Me and Hermione just need a bit of time to pick up where we left off,” replied Harry, wanting to end the discussion there.

“If you're sure about that!” exclaimed Ron, standing up and reaching his trunk. “We should get ready before Hermione comes back to scold us.”

“Yeah...” replied Harry absentmindedly.

That evening, they didn't touch the subject again. Ron had surely understood that Harry wasn't willing to talk about his love life. For his part, Harry didn't know what was the right thing to do. One side of him desperately wanted to open himself up and tell Ron all of his doubts and fears, but the other side was telling him to keep everything inside.

He really wanted to have someone who could give him some good advice, an adult with more experience than he had. Harry closed his eyes and immediately, his parents' and Sirius's faces appeared in front of him. I wish you could be here with me... he thought, with a note of melancholy.

1

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(A/N: Dear friends, I wish to thank all of you who are reading this story. As you can see, I'm posting one chapter each day, since I've already written them until chapter 12. I wish to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr for his great job, especially because my mother tongue is italian and without his help this story would have remained for italian readers only. Here is chapter 4, I hope you'll enjoy it and leave a review. Thanks!)

SECRETS FROM THE FUTURE

By Petronilla

Chapter 4. CLUES AND PREMONITIONS

“As you very well know, Kelpies are treacherous Scottish water demons. They can assume different forms, however they normally look like horses,” explained Magnus Erudio, standing in front of the stable with his sightless stare fixed on the horizon. That morning he was wearing a long dark green robe and his usual horn-like hat of the same color; his body still looked healthy and strong despite the fact he needed a twisted wooden staff for support.

It was exactly eight o'clock and the day looked as though it would be warm and humid; the sky was covered by clouds and the sun's rays were barely filtering through. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had just arrived, after having run past several greenhouses surrounding the castle. They were now standing in front of Erudio, carefully listening to his words.

“There is nothing to trust about these magical creatures. They lurk in lakes and rivers and after attracting an imprudent wizard, they drag him down into the deep, devouring him with no mercy.”

Ron made a grimace of disgust as Harry tried to sneak a look inside the stable, curious.

“The correct way to control a Kelpie is... yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione had just raised her hand; once again, Erudio noticed it despite his blindness.

“It's necessary to put a bridle on them with a Placement Charm. That makes the Kelpie docile and harmless.”

“Very good, Miss Granger! Nevertheless, we aren't at school here and there aren't points to assign or to take off. However, I appreciate your hard effort.”

Embarrassed, Hermione lowered her gaze, trying not to catch Harry's eyes, since he had just turned to her to listen to the explanation.

“The kelpies living in these stalls have all been bridled with the Placement Charm, and for this reason, you won't have anything to fear. The only thing to avoid is giving them the chance to change form, which in my opinion could be rather... annoying, believe me. Your duties will be to groom them each morning and feed them. Anything to ask?”

The three friends looked at each other for a second in silence.

“You can start straight away then. At lunch time, Wizzy will bring you something to eat,” Erudio ended, pointing to the stable entrance with his finger.

Harry, Ron and Hermione hesitated for a brief moment, and then moved closer. Once inside, they saw something very surprising: although from the outside it looked like a common stable, inside it was huge. There were several different areas, separated by invisible barriers. The resting area was furnished with soft couches made of perfumed and motley straw. In the feeding area was a long manger made of clean white ceramic china, while in the cleaning area there was a round, large swimming pool surrounded by aquatic plants.

At that time of day, the magical creatures were already pawing inside their enclosures which were made impassable by a repelling spell. The five adults were very tall, while the two little ones didn't even reach halfway up. They looked like horses; the only difference was that their mane was made of rushes and their eyes were as red as fire. The creatures were scratching the ground with their hooves, making an odd sound resembling the cry of a duck.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?” exhorted Erudio, since the three young wizards were still standing by the entrance. “Are you, maybe, scared?”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other nervously. Then, Harry moved first toward one of the first creatures on his right.

“Mr. Harry Potter,” Erudio suddenly called him back; he froze with his right leg forward. “I've got a different task for you. Please, follow me.”

Harry glanced quickly at his friends, who were staring at him, puzzled. Then, seeing that Erudio was already leaving, he waved goodbye to Ron and Hermione and ran off following the warlock.

They walked through a wide prairie, which was still green and luxuriant despite the summer heat. Erudio was walking extremely fast, even while using his stick for support, and Harry had to hasten behind him.

After a good half hour, they reached a large forest. During the entire journey, Harry kept wondering what absurd reason Erudio had for asking only him for this other task. Suddenly, Harry's attention was stolen by something moving in the sky; he lifted his head and saw a large convocation of Hippogriffs quietly flying over the forest in the direction of the castle.

Not noticing that Erudio had just stopped, Harry smashed his nose directly into the ancient wizard's back. “Whoops! I-I'm sorry. I didn't...”

“Shhhh, silence,” warned Erudio, lifting a finger to his mouth. Harry looked around warily, but didn't see anything strange.

The forest in front of them seemed dark and tenebrous, just like the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. Then Magnus Erudio stretched out his arm, closed his eyes in concentration, and whispered a few unknown words. After his calling, Harry heard noises in the forest and to his great surprise, he saw a group of magical creatures coming out from there, creatures he knew very well.

“Thestrals!” he exclaimed, smiling and noticing that there were a dozen of the creatures, a sort of odd reptilian-like horse with solid white eyes, completely fleshless with black coats that clung perfectly to their skeletons and a pair of large black wings that resembled those of bats.

An ordinary person would surely have feared these creatures, but this wasn't Harry's case. Thestrals had helped him on more than one occasion in the past.

“Exactly, boy. These are among the smartest magical creatures in the world, and with a strong sense of direction too. But you know already what I'm talking about, don't you?

“Y-yes Sir,” replied Harry, not expecting such a direct question.

“Surely you understand now the reason why I asked only you to follow me here?”

“Because... because I'm the only one able to see them,” replied Harry, with a note of resignation in the voice.

“You see? We understand each other perfectly. Unfortunately, thestrals have the particular characteristic to be visible only to those wizards who have witnessed a death. Your life has been very difficult, and I can say the same regarding my own personal life. The only difference is that I'm not able to physically see these incredible creatures, but I can feel their presence anyway.”

A couple of thestrals meekly moved closer to Erudio; he caressed their scaly heads with affection. Then the warlock spoke again, weighing each word.

“It often seems that life is against us, especially when the most terrible events happen. But we must always walk with our heads held high, proud of our battles and of our internal and external wounds. We can't allow those events to destroy us. The wisest thing to do is to accept all the good and the bad things that happen to us, and take the best out of each experience.”

Harry listened in silence. Even though Erudio was speaking generally, it seemed that his words were addressed solely to him. Once again, Harry had the impression that this wizard was able to read deep inside of his soul.

Erudio then shifted from his quiet attitude and spoke with sternness. “Your job will be to attend to the thestrals. Each day you'll come here, feed them, and exercise them. These creatures are extremely important to me. That's why I'm expecting you to take particular care of them.”

“Right, sir,” replied Harry, puzzled by this sudden change in attitude.

“Very well. Now, follow me. There are still several other things you need to see.”

Magnus Erudio moved away from the forest and Harry followed him readily, without questioning him further.

***O***

Following Magnus Erudio, Harry visited a large portion of the estate. They went to the shore of a wide and dark lake, where the wizard called a surly Merchieftainess named Storm, the chief of the merpeople there. Such creatures also lived in the lake at Hogwarts, but this one in particular looked extremely worrying with its long green hair, yellow eyes, fin tail, and a sharp lance held tight in its right hand.

The Merchieftainess emerged in front of them and spoke with Erudio in Mermish, a language that sounded like a horrible screeching noise above water. Harry had a strong feeling that they were talking about him, since Storm often turned in his direction, frowning. Then Erudio explained to Harry that starting the next morning, he was in charge of the several Ramoras living in the lake. Harry didn't remember exactly what a Ramora was, but he agreed anyway, not wanting to disappoint the warlock.

Leaving the lake, they headed back to the castle and visited a huge aviary, displaying a varied selection of magical flying creatures. Harry had never seen so many of them: there were funny Diricawls, also known in the Muggle world as the dodo, colored Fwoopers, and even rare Snidgets, once used in Quidditch games before Golden Snitches replaced the live birds.

A group of house elves were busy attending the creatures, running from one cage to another with different kinds of food in their hands.

Finally, Erudio showed Harry to the greenhouses; there were almost fifty all together. In each one, a particular sort of magical plant was grown. There were Mandrakes, Bubotubers, poisonous mushrooms, and even Mimbulus mimbletonias.

Erudio explained that the house elves in charge of the greenhouses had to take care of all the magical plants, watering, pruning, or replanting them, depending on the need and season. Their fruits and seeds were collected and stored in large wooden barrels kept in the cellars.

It was almost midday when Harry reached the Whomping Willows' greenhouse with the task of pruning the newly planted seedlings. Inside, he found an old house elf who was continuously jumping from one plant to another to avoid the strong blows each one of them was throwing at him. Even though the plants were as small as Bonsai, their long branches were already very sharp and very strong.

Harry needed to use the Full Body Bind spell on them several times to keep from getting hurt. At lunch time, Wizzy appeared by the entrance with a tray full with sandwiches and pumpkin juice. Harry smiled at him, thankful, but the house elf didn't seem to appreciate it. Once he set the tray on a small table nearby, he disappeared without even saying goodbye.

By sunset, the work in the greenhouse was finished. Before exiting, Harry turned one last time to the little plants, which were neatly set in three rows, and felt proud of himself even though his hands were wounded and his back ached. He ran as fast as he could to the castle, entered inside and climbed the stairs at two at a time, eager to see his friends again.

On the third floor, Harry reached his bedroom door, but hearing voices inside, he stopped to listen. It sounded like Ron and Hermione were bickering once again. Harry rolled his eyes and slowly opened the door.

Ron and Hermione were standing in front of each other and were shouting furiously. They were so involved that they didn't realize Harry was there.

“It's all your fault. How many times did I tell you to be careful?” shouted Hermione angrily.

“I've been careful. It's not my fault if those stupid creatures get scared by everything.” Ron tried to justify himself, waving his arms.

“My kelpie didn't react the same way. Why do you always have to ruin everything?” replied Hermione.

“I didn't ruin anything at all. If you want to know the truth, that warlock just wanted an excuse to punish us, that's all,” affirmed Ron.

“Hey, could you please stop it for a moment?” Harry intruded in the conversation; Ron and Hermione turned to him, surprised to see him there.

“Finally you're here. Why don't you try to make her come to her senses before I use a Silencing Charm on her,” shouted Ron.

“Ha, ha, ha! Very funny.” Hermione mocked him, folding her arms.

“Please, STOP IT!” shouted Harry, irritated. “Why don't you tell me what's going on?” Harry raised the tone of his voice and frowned at both of them.

Ron sat on his bed and turned to face in the opposite direction of Hermione, as she did the same, sitting on Harry's bed.

“Well?” exhorted Harry, after a few minutes of silence.

“We got detention,” began Hermione, turning and frowning at Ron.

“Detention? B-but why?” asked Harry, puzzled.

Hermione sighed deeply before speaking. “Everything was going perfectly. We managed to get closer to the kelpies. We let them out of their enclosures, and washed them. Then at lunch time...”

Hermione stopped for a second, as if remembering the events of that morning was the most painful thing she had to do. “When Wizzy came with a tray full of sandwiches, Ron rushed to him like a madman. Doing so, he knocked down a little kelpie, just because it was in his way. Scared, the poor creature changed its form into an otter and ran away.”

“I tried to follow it, but...” started Ron, but Hermione cut him off.

“It was horrible. The little kelpie entered the castle, headed upstairs, and started running right into the west wing. Without even knowing it, Ron found himself chasing the creature along the corridors of the forbidden area until he ran into Magnus Erudio himself.”

“I didn't run into him, he apparated right in front of me, that's the truth.” clarified Ron.

“After a good half hour, Ron came back to the stable with Erudio, who harshly scolded both of us. Tomorrow morning, he's meeting us in his office to assign an appropriate detention.”

“Yeah...” commented Ron sadly, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I bet he'll give his house elves a long holiday and let us clean the whole castle without using magic.”

“It could be worst than that, believe me,” judged Hermione, resigned.

Harry slowly moved toward Hermione and sat by her side. “Hey, Ron didn't do anything bad. I mean, he didn't even enter Erudio's private rooms.”

“That's exactly what I told him, but he insisted, saying that it was extremely serious to have even entered the west wing. I didn't even do it on purpose.”

Silence fell between them. “Erudio doesn't seem to be too vindictive. After all, he's a good friend of Dumbledore, isn't he?” said Harry, trying his best to render the situation less dramatic, but Ron and Hermione frowned at him.

“Harry's right,” replied Hermione, after a deep sigh. “It's useless crying over spilled potion. I'm going upstairs to get ready for dinner,” she ended, standing up and slowly moving to the door.

Gloomily, Ron turned to Harry. “How was your day? Better than mine, I hope.”

“Not so bad. As far as what I could see, Erudio isn't just a great collector of rare objects, but also of plants and magical creatures. Half an hour from here there is a huge forest where thestrals and hippogriffs live freely. Then, there is a lake with merpeople, and in the greenhouses there are all kinds of magical plants. I can't believe that this place is so similar to Hogwarts.”

“Am I wrong, or have you changed your mind about Erudio? Just last night you were saying that there was something odd about him.”

“Well, yeah... but after everything, I think that...” Harry didn't finish the sentence. He had just turned to Hermione, realizing that she was crouching down near on the floor. “Hermione, is everything all right?”

Puzzled, Harry stood up abruptly and went over to his girlfriend who was staring intensely at something on the floor.

“Look at this!” she said, slowly standing up with a small piece of parchment in her hands.

It seemed to be a piece of a poster, rather worn-out and crushed. It was impossible to really understand the words printed on it, since the sentences and words were incomplete. There were only a few things that were even legible.

“alf-blood ghet
202
Council, nobod
-blood will be allowed to exit
Army will check
Judged by the High Cour”

Ron had just moved closer. “There wasn't anything like that on the floor when we came in.”

“We probably didn't notice it since we were bickering,” said Hermione.

“Maybe one of the house elves in charge of room cleaning left it here by mistake,” insisted Ron.

“Highly unlikely.” Hermione decided.

“Can I have a closer look?” asked Harry, frowning.

As soon as he had grasped the piece of parchment in his hands, something really strange happened. Suddenly, everything around him disappeared and he had the feeling of travel at great speed. Abstract figures and indistinct faces darted in front of him as he was started to feel sick. Then everything stopped and finally Harry was able to look around him.

The scenery had changed. It seemed not only that the place was different, but also that the time was different somehow. He didn't know where he was, but... he had this feeling that it just didn't look the way it was supposed to. It was almost the same, but different still. He realized that the differences were those resulting from the passage of time. It was as if he was seeing it many years before or many years after what he thought it should be. However, since he didn't actually know how it was supposed to look, he didn't know whether he was in the past or in the future. In the sky, gray clouds and sudden red lightning bolts, followed by frightful claps of thunder, made the place extremely menacing. The houses at the edge of the street were dirty and rundown.

All of the people around him were rushing in different directions, as if something terrible was about to happen. They surely were all wizards, as they were wearing long dark cloaks and pointed hats. In their eyes, Harry could see fear and indifference. None of them noticed Harry's presence there; as they got close, they bumped into him and then walked on.

The young wizard started to feel a sharp cold inside him. The wind buffeted him violently and he shivered in his T-shirt. A sudden loneliness caught him in the depth of his heart. With all his strength, he wished to be with his friends again.

As the wind became stronger, Harry covered his face with his arms. Hearing someone shouting, he lifted his gaze to the horizon; what he saw left him without words. A black cloud was approaching, getting closer and closer at great speed.

Off in the distance, it seemed to be a flock of birds, even though there was something unnatural about it. The closer the flock got, the more noticeable the details of it were: a crowd of filthy creatures, presages of death, wicked beings wearing long, dark robes. Their faces were hooded, their hands emerging from their robes like long, twisted, putrescent tree branches. Thousands of dementors were flying together, patrolling the area, possibly searching for something or someone.

“No, no,” said Harry in a whisper. He stepped backwards, shocked, and then felt his strength wane. He stretched out a hand looking for support. Losing balance, he fell to his knees and closed his eyes.

He again had the feeling of traveling at great speed, through time and space, not even realizing it until was able to hear the alarmed voices of Ron and Hermione, calling for him. “Harry, Harry. Wake up!”

Harry opened his eyes and realized he was in his bedroom again. Panting heavily, he looked around, then raised an hand to his heart, which was beating furiously.

“Did you have another vision? How are you feeling?” Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist, as Ron grabbed him by the shoulders, both helping him stand up. “Why don't you lie on your bed for a moment?” she said worriedly, though Harry didn't seem to want to follow her suggestion, even though he still felt exhausted.

“I-I don't need to... I-I'm fine.” Harry stuttered, doing his best to calm down. His forehead was hot and his hands were sweaty.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, puzzled, uncertain about what to do.

“I said that I'm fine!” affirmed Harry with renewed strength, starting to feel slightly better. When he was sure he was able to stand alone on his feet, he released himself from his friends' grasp.

Harry immediately thought about what he had just seen; was it the past, present, or future? With deep attention, he studied the piece of parchment in his hands and felt a strong sense of discomfort.

“H-harry?” Shyly, Hermione brought him back to reality. “Why don't you tell us what just happened?”

Raising his stare, the young wizard noticed his friends' dismayed expressions. “We absolutely need to find out who left this piece of parchment in our room,” he began with vigor. “I'm sure that whoever it was had a specific reason for us to find it. I didn't... I didn't like at all what I just saw.”

“W-why's that?” asked Ron, with a trembling voice.

Harry tried his best to gather his thoughts and then spoke, forcing himself to be as clear as possible, even though what had just happened wasn't clear to him either.

“It was... it was a horrible place. I was standing in the middle of a street and everybody was running away.” He stopped for a second to think about it, then started again. “It was cold, extremely cold. Then, I saw thousands of dementors flying in the sky, over my head. They were terrifying.”

“Are you sure that this place is real? I mean, maybe it was just a dream, or something similar,” proposed Hermione, trying to find a logical explanation.

“It wasn't a dream!” Harry countered firmly. “When I was there, I was able to feel the cold, to hear someone screaming. Some people even pushed into me. It was as real as me talking to you right now.”

“D-do you think that somewhere at this moment, thousands of dementors are flying freely, spreading terror and fear?” asked Ron, unbelievingly.

“Listen, we don't know about anything similar happening in the past. And if it isn't happening now, then the only explanation is that... it's going to happen in the future,” Harry whispered the last word, almost with fear. The thought of finding such a future waiting for them wasn't at all comforting. “We need to find the owner of this parchment.”

“We could try with Prior Incantato,” suggested Ron, but Hermione contradicted him readily.

“You use Prior Incantato to reveal the last spell cast by a wand. We need something different here. Let me think about it for a second.” She started pacing the room, desperately trying to remember the right spell to use in this situation. “I've got it!” she suddenly stopped, with a large smile pasted on her face.

Without an explanation, Hermione took her wand out from her jeans pocket and pointed it directly at the parchment, still in Harry's hands. She then said the incantation with a firm voice. “PRIOR DOMINUS!”

A ray of golden light shot out from the wand and hit the piece of parchment, which took on a life of its own, releasing itself from Harry's tight grasp. It hovered in the air and then darted to the door and slipped under it at great speed.

“Quick! It'll lead us to its owner,” Hermione exhorted the other two. Together, they rushed out in the corridor.

“Damn it, It's gone!” exclaimed Ron, angrily.

“No, it's there. Let's go!” Harry pointed at the stairs. The parchment had already reached the lower floor, but running downstairs, the three friends managed to catch up.

The little piece of paper seemed possessed by an uncontrollable force and kept flying through the corridors and halls of the castle. Along the way, the three friends came upon the ghosts of ladies and knights, but preoccupied with their chase, they ran through them without stopping to apologize.

“How rude they are,” commented a gentlewoman dressed in crinoline, giving them a disgusted stare.

The crazy chase continued without rest and brought them underground. Then, suddenly, the parchment stopped in the middle of one of the stone corridors and remained there in midair, pointing straight like the tail of a hound that had found its prey.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived after a few minutes and stopped there as well, exhausted. Panting heavily, they leaned against the stone walls for support while the parchment remained pointed at the wall in front of it, as if it was waiting for something.

“Can you tell me what's going on now?” asked Ron when he managed to catch his breath.

Harry and Hermione were also studying the scene, puzzled. Maybe the whole thing had been useless and they needed to try another spell. Harry cautiously moved toward the parchment. Just as he was about to touch it with his fingers, they heard a resounding POP!

“Good evening young masters. May I help you?” A small house elf had just appeared in front of them, making them jump in surprise. The magical creature had a very long nose and pointed ears, two large brown eyes, and wore an old pillowcase tied at the waist.

The three friends looked at each other for a second, and then Harry spoke first. “Yes, thanks. We... we were looking for the kitchens,” he started determinedly, a specific plan in mind. “We'd like to have another slice of that wonderful rhubarb cake from this morning.”

“Of course, young master. If you'd like to go upstairs to the dining room, we'll be very happy to serve you the cake after dinner,” replied the elf, with a helpful tone.

That wasn't exactly what Harry had in mind. “Thanks, but... well, we'd prefer to have the cake right now.”

The elf eyed them suspiciously but then made a deep bow. “Please, follow me.”

Harry smiled, triumphant, and then turned to Ron and Hermione giving them the thumbs up sign in victory.

When the little house elf turned to face the wall behind him, the stone wall unexpectedly moved to the side like a sliding door, revealing a secret passage.

As if it wasn't waiting for a better moment, the piece of parchment again started its frantic flight inside the passage, which was narrow and dark. Harry and the other two lit their wands, doing their best not to lose the parchment.

At the end of the corridor, a second sliding door opened and they finally entered in the kitchen, a huge room with stone walls, lit only by torches and the fireplace. There were low, wooden tables surrounding the entire perimeter of the room and on top of them, several large copper cauldrons covered with their lids. About twenty house elves were busy cleaning and cooking here and there. Even though the kitchen was fairly large, the elves were using only a small part of it, seeing as to the small number of guests living in the castle at that time.

The roaring fireplace filled almost the entire wall in front of the entrance. At least ten house elves were roasting a huge animal carcass, with long, sharp fangs and a pair of twisted horns.

“That thing will be our dinner?” asked Ron, with a certain note of disgust.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Why don't you look for the parchment instead? You've distracted me and now I've lost it.”

At that moment, Harry laid a hand on her shoulder and she turned abruptly to him.

“There it is,” whispered Harry, without taking his gaze off something in front of him.

Widening her eyes, Hermione nudged Ron with her elbow.

“Hey, what the bloody hell...” But when Ron turned as well, he stood there in silence, his mouth open in surprise.

In a corner of the kitchen, Magnus Erudio's personal house elf Wizzy was busy drying dishes and glasses. Unexpectedly, the piece of parchment had stopped on the floor, right in front of his feet.

***O***

That night, Harry wasn't able to fall asleep. The day had been very eventful, ending with a sort of premonition that had contributed to drag down his morale. What was the meaning of all those dementors in his vision? When was all of this going to happen? Would the forces of evil take over in the future? The most pressing question, however, was something else. Had that little piece of parchment been the cause of his premonition?

Even more curious was the reaction of Wizzy when he, Ron, and Hermione had questioned him that evening. Why had the house elf denied it with such insistence? Why had he told them that it was the first time he had seen that piece of parchment? Harry was sure that Wizzy was lying.

“What were you expecting him to say, the poor thing? At that moment, all of the others house elves were staring at him.” Those were Hermione's words.

Ron had suggested forcing him to confess, but Hermione had been opposed to that idea. “Why don't we leave threatening and torture to someone else?” Hermione said sarcastically, referring to the Death Eaters' methods.

Thinking about it, Harry would've even tried a few drops of Veritaserum on Wizzy just to clear things up.

Finally, they decided to take a softer approach and wait until Wizzy was completely alone and then push him to confess.

In that moment, Harry's thoughts were interrupted by a loud snore from Ron, who was peacefully sleeping on the nearby bed. The night sky outside the window was lit by a gorgeous full moon and by thousands of stars.

In a couple of days he was going to turn seventeen. Harry smiled. This time, he would spend his birthday together with his girlfriend and his best friend. He couldn't have wished for anything better than this. If it wasn't for the magical war, for his terrible nightmares, and for the prophecy which was weighing on his heart like a boulder, maybe he would have fully enjoyed those few happy events in his life. A normal life: that was the gift he wanted for his birthday.

Harry felt his eyelids becoming more and more heavy until it was impossible for him to keep his eyes open. Confusing images and colored lights swirled in front of him. Finally, the face of Magnus Erudio appeared in his mind. The wizard was standing by the forest, a thestral at his side.

“See Harry, thestrals have the particular characteristic to be visible only to those people who have witnessed someone else's death. Please, don't be offended if I say that you can see them because you are more unlucky than normal people.”

Erudio's words were still echoing in Harry's mind when the scene changed. Now, it was Ron and Hermione bickering. Ron had eaten all the roast meat without leaving a piece of it for the others.

“You're always the same, Ron. I'm really happy to be in love with Harry, and not with you.” Hermione said angrily.

“I'm not sure you made the right choice. Harry doesn't know anything about girls. I, on the other hand, have more experience than him,” replied Ron, readily.

Harry was deeply offended by Ron words and was going to respond, but unfortunately didn't get the chance as the scene around him changed again.

Now he was standing in a crowded street, several run-down houses around him, just like in his vision. The only difference this time was that among the wizards passing by, there was Wizzy. The house elf was standing there, staring at him with his large green eyes.

“Tell me the truth. You dragged me to this place, didn't you?” Harry asked; the house elf nodded, staring at him seriously. “B-but why? Is this the future that is waiting for us?”

“On guard, Harry Potter!.You need to stay on guard,” replied Wizzy, emphasizing each word.

“On guard? Against what... against who? Are you talking about Voldemort?” But Harry's question didn't get any reply.

“Wake up you lazy boys. Get up or we're going to be late!” Hermione was calling from outside the door and Harry woke up abruptly. He looked around and felt very disappointed to find himself again in his room. Wizzy was going to tell him something important... he was sure of that.

Harry put his glasses on absentmindedly and turned to the window. The sun had just risen in the sky.

12

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(A/N: Well, at least I've got some more reviews now! First of all I wish to thank Destroyerdt for her great support in every chapter, and also I wish to thank fenriswolf for his sharp review and his suggestion to put away all those silly exclamation points. Now, I changed chapter 4 and I hope that now it's possible to read it without getting an headache! I'm sorry if sometimes you'll find mistakes, but my mother tongue is italian and even if my BETA reader does his best with the correction, well... I'm not perfect. That's why I thank you so much fenriswolf. Now, I hope you'll like chapter 5 and I'm waiting for your reviews...)

Chapter 5. REVELATIONS

That morning after breakfast, Ron and Hermione went to Magnus Erudio's office for their detention; Harry headed straight to the forest to start his daily duties. He also took with him a pail full of small dead animals and a package with his lunch.

As Erudio had explained to him the previous day, his job would be to attend to the Thestrals. Although the sun wasn't at its zenith yet, it looked as though the day was going to be one of the most sultry so far. The sky was clear and there wasn't even the slightest breeze blowing.

It took him a good half hour to cross the prairie. When he reached the forest, Harry's face and T-shirt were soaked with sweat. Fortunately, the thick tree branches over his head gave him a feeling of relief.

Harry didn't have any problem attracting Thestrals; he only had to wave a couple dead ferrets and the magical creatures came to him, smelling the blood.

After lunch, the young wizard left and headed to the lake. For his second job, he had to attend to the Ramoras living there. With all that had happened the day before, Harry had completely forgotten to ask Hermione what kind of magical creatures Ramoras were.

Ron had once told him something about funny fish shaped like a ball with rubbery legs and webbed feet, living in the depths of the lakes. They liked to nibble at the feet and clothes of swimmers. Harry then recalled, however, that their name was something like Timpy or Plimpy.

Absorbed in his thoughts, he arrived at the shore of the lake. The watery mirror was huge and black.

Great job, Harry! Now how do I attract those Ramoras? he thought, annoyed. Tiredly, he sat on a large rock nearby and his eyes stared off into the horizon.

Unintentionally, his thoughts started to chase each other. He again found himself thinking about his life, his troubles, and how to solve them. The magical war, his last premonition, Mark, who was still a prisoner, the Prophecy, his uncertain future. It was so hard for him to find a solution.

“Nice day to cry over yourself, isn't it, Mr. Potter?”

Harry turned abruptly, surprised. Magnus Erudio was standing right behind him with his clear eyes fixed to the horizon.

“I... I'm sorry, I didn't...” Harry stuttered, standing up. Hey, I even didn't hear him coming, he thought nervously.

“Maybe you were too absorbed in your troubles to notice that I was coming,” commented Erudio, almost amused. Once again, Harry was deeply surprised to see how his mind was like an open book to him.

“I just came to see how it was going with the Ramoras. I want to remind you that these are extremely powerful sea creatures. Sailors believe that they are able to protect them, a true blessing for boats in need. Ramoras usually live in the Indian Ocean, but the Ministry of Magic has kindly allowed me to raise a few of them here in my lake.” Erudio spoke with a certain sarcasm in his voice. “I must confess that it has been extremely hard to get their permission. They don't understand at the Ministry that my castle is a true oasis for magical creatures near extinction. They're so stubborn.”

Harry smiled at his comment. He didn't like those wizards at the Ministry either.

“Now, I think that you can start with your job,” finished Erudio. “I bet that you'll be done by sunset.”

Erudio turned his back to Harry and moved a few steps away. He then stopped again and spoke one last time. “Well... after calling the Ramoras with your mind, please greet them for me.”

The warlock then disappeared with a resounding CRACK, leaving Harry there with a puzzled expression on his face.

***O***

As Magnus Erudio had predicted, Harry managed to return to the castle shortly before sunset. Feeling tired and hungry, he rushed upstairs to meet Ron and Hermione. Entering the room, however, he didn't find either of them.

Exhausted, he went over to his bed, laid down, and stretched out. The day had been tiring for him, but he had had fun, after all.

Ramoras were very interesting creatures. Following Magnus Erudio's suggestion, he tried to concentrate and then called them to him. Finally after several attempts, he saw a few small curious snouts poking out of the water. At first glance, they looked like common silver fish. In actuality however, they had the ability to communicate telepathically. Harry soon understood that the only thing these creatures needed was a bit of company. In fact, they told him that it was rare finding someone to pleasantly talk with like him.

In the beginning, Harry felt rather silly to be communicating with these “fish.” After a short while though, he realized that these creatures were far more clever than many of the wizards or Muggles he had met in the past.

In that moment, Harry's stomach grumbled. He looked at his clock and worried about his friends. Right then, the door opened and Ron and Hermione dragged themselves in. Their faces were tired and their clothes were dirty and torn.

“Is everything all right?” Harry asked uncertainly, standing up and moving closer to them.

Ron shrugged his shoulders in reply, then sat down on his bed and stretched out his arms. Hermione slowly walked toward Harry and hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder. “I'm so exhausted,” she whispered.

Instinctively, Harry hugged her back, brushing her shoulder tenderly. “You had a bad day, didn't you?” he asked understandingly.

“You can say that again, mate,” replied Ron from his bed. “That Magnus Erudio isn't just sadistic, no. He's much, much more than that. In his office, he just told us that it was going to be a `light' detention, nothing to worry about. We then followed him down to the cellars and entered a wide room. The ceiling was covered with puffapods. Our job was to open all the puffapods and fill as many barrels as we could without letting them fall on the floor. Look at my hands!”

Ron was right; his hands were scratched and red, and his fingernails were dirty.

“Well, at least you're still alive!” exclaimed Harry, smiling slightly; Ron just grimaced and rolled over on his other side. “Why don't you go get cleaned up now? I'm starving.”

Hermione moved away and looked at him sadly. “You're right. I'm surely not a pleasant sight to see.” Indeed, her hair was all ruffled and dusty, and her cheeks were dirty with soil.

Harry stared at her for a moment, then smiled sweetly. “If you want my opinion, you're beautiful, even now.”

“You're such a liar,” she replied, laughing.

“Hey, you two. Are you finished flirting?” Ron cut them off, annoyed. “If you don't mind, I'm starving too.”

“No doubt about that, Ron Weasley,” said Hermione sarcastically. “I'll be ready in a minute. Please, don't go without me,” she finished, rushing out of the room.

As soon as Hermione closed the door, Ron sat upright on his bed and spoke to Harry as though he knew something Harry didn't. “Tomorrow is your birthday, Harry!”

“Really? I'd`ve never guessed,” he replied smiling, sitting at Ron's side.

“I want to be the first one to give you your present. Tonight, after dinner. You'll see what I've got in mind for you.” Ron looked very excited by the idea, as if he had almost forgotten his tiredness from shortly before.

Harry frowned at him. “What is it?”

“Don't you even try it. If I tell you now, it won't be a surprise,” finished Ron, standing up. Harry crossed his arms and kept frowning at his friend until he disappeared behind the bathroom door.

***O***

That night, the three friends reached the dining room hungrier and more tired than ever. During the meal, nobody wanted to talk. Moreover, nobody said anything about the fact that the next day was Harry's birthday. He was, after all, accustomed to not celebrating.

Harry already knew that Ron had something in mind and surely, Hermione also would give him her present. This was enough to make him happy.

After dinner, Hermione bid the other two goodnight, and then went upstairs to her room. Once alone, Ron magically shut their bedroom door, and then warily went over to his trunk and started searching for something.

Harry stood behind his friend, watching the scene, curious.

“Damn it! I'm sure it's hidden here, somewhere,” Ron whispered, without raising his nose from the trunk. “Ah, here it is,” he said satisfied, taking out an old wooden rectangular box and sitting on the ragged carpet with legs crossed.

“What's that?” asked Harry, suspicious.

“Come on, move closer,” exhorted Ron, signaling Harry to sit in front of him. “You'll never guess. Let's just say that I was waiting for the right time to open this, and the right time is your birthday.”

“Th-thanks!” replied Harry, feeling something odd in his stomach, a cross between excitement and fear.

“Now, it's yours,” said Ron, handing him the box. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

The box was covered with dust and extremely heavy. He set it on his knees and then slowly took off the cover.

“Wow! How did you managed to get one?” exclaimed Harry, widening his eyes. “I mean, it isn't easy to get stuff like this.”

“That was in the past, mate. Now we're both of age and nobody can tell us anything,” explained Ron, enthusiastically. “Fred and George gave it to me when I came back from school in June.”

With mouth open, Harry took out his present from the box. It was a black bottle, dirty and dusty, with a white skull and crossbones printed on it.

“Ogden's Old Firewhiskey, the best. I've always wanted to try it. Perfect for celebrating among true men, believe me Harry. Come on, open it. There should be two glasses in there.”

Harry opened the bottle and a puff of black smoke came out. The two friends stared at each other for a second, smiling, then poured the drink in their glasses, eagerly anticipating the incredible experience.

When both had a full glass in their hands, they shot each other a look of understanding.

“On the count of three. One, two... THREE!” At Ron's sign, they gulped down the Firewhiskey.

At first, Harry thought it was like cold water, descending down his throat until it reached his stomach. Then, abruptly, that fresh liquid changed into hot boiling fire, burning so much it left him breathless. Both coughed, gasping in search of air. When the effect had subsided, Harry started feeling light and happy like a small boy.

“Merlin's beard, this stuff is like a bomb!” exclaimed Ron, as soon as he was able to speak.

“You can say that again,” commented Harry, massaging his throat, which was still burning.

“Mum would kill me.” Ron felt a sudden sense of guilt. He then shrugged his shoulders and added, “I'll take another glass, thanks.” Apparently, the alcohol had erased every bit of good sense in him.

They spent the whole evening drinking and laughing like idiots. Finally, they stretched themselves out on the floor, completely drunk. Harry was feeling dizzy and his body was so numb he wasn't able to even lift an arm. It was as if every single worry had vanished from his mind, even though his thoughts weren't following any logical sequence.

“Do you know, Ron? This is the most wonderful, the most fantastic gift you could ever give to me!” exclaimed Harry, before bursting into an exaggerated laughing. “You're really my best friend... no, you're my very, very best friend in the world... no, in the universe...”

“Oh, shut up or you'll make me cry,” shouted Ron, while laughing. When he managed to stop laughing, he made a huge effort to be as serious as possible. “There is something I need to tell you. It's about Hermione.”

“Why are you talking about Hermione now? I thought this was a celebration between real men,” replied Harry, annoyed.

“No, mate. I've something to confess...” Ron spoke, doing the impossible to remain serious. “I need to do it now, because we both won't have enough strength to fight.” Finishing the sentence, he couldn't resist anymore and burst into laugher, followed by Harry.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh.” Ron again tried to gain control over himself and became serious again. “What I'm trying to tell you is that... well, I've always felt something for Hermione. I mean, until I met Luna, of course.”

Without knowing why, Harry rolled on the floor laughing, grabbing his stomach with his arms.

“Hey, Harry. I'm serious now,” shouted Ron and with a great effort Harry became serious again. “What's so amusing?”

Both friends stared at each other for a moment. Then Harry smiled slightly before speaking. “I've always known.” he admitted in a whisper.

Ron frowned at him, surprised. “Why haven't you ever told me before?”

Harry swayed his gaze from him and looked at the ceiling above him. “Why would I've done that?”

“Well, maybe because you were in love with her and I could've stolen your girl right in front of you,” replied Ron frankly.

“I thought it was better to wait and see!” exclaimed Harry, simply.

“You're telling me, that if I had made the first move with Hermione, you would've let me do it? Like that, without fighting?”

“Maybe. If Hermione would've chosen you, well... I'd have been happy for you both,” ended Harry, with a veil of sadness in his voice.

“You're completely crazy, mate,” judged Ron.

“Do you think that I'm crazy? Need I remind you that you're the one going out with Luna `Loony' Lovegood?”

Both friends burst into laugher again, rolling on the floor.

“Good one. Really good,” commented Ron. “But I'll tell you this. OK, I'm going out with Luna now, but I still care for Hermione and if you do something wrong to her... if you let her suffer, I swear, you're going to regret it.”

Harry and Ron became serious again.

“Should I take that as a threat?” asked Harry, frowning at Ron.

“Take it however you want. Now, you've been warned,” replied Ron, sharply.

“You know that I'd never do anything bad to her... I mean, intentionally.”

“What the bloody hell're you talking about now?” asked Ron, propping himself up on his elbows to better listen to Harry.

Harry tried to find the right words to explain, even though he already knew that it was going to be difficult.

“I'm talking about the war, I'm talking about the Prophecy. I'm talking about Voldemort,” explained Harry, feeling his temper rising.

Ron shuddered all over at hearing that name, but understood what Harry meant.

“There are things in my life over which I have no control. There are things that even I don't know how they're going to end,” said Harry, resigned. He then sighed deeply and spoke sincerely. “I promise you that I'll do everything possible to make her happy.”

That night, Ron didn't bring it up again. Harry knew that his answers had been enough for him, even though extremely worrying.

***O***

Harry spent an uneasy night tossing and turning, dreaming of faces and places unknown to him. Sometimes, the suffering face of Mark Evans appeared at his mind. Then, a far away voice brought him back to reality.

“Wake up! It's a wonderful, sunny day. Happy birthday Harry,” shouted Hermione, rushing inside the room. But her excitement dampened when she saw the boys' reaction.

Ron buried his head under the bed linens, while Harry turned over onto his other side, still keeping his eyes closed.

“Hey! What is going on here?” Starting to lose her temper, Hermione moved to the window and opened the curtains, letting the sunlight fill the room.

“Oh no, Hermione, come on. Switch off the light now,” shouted Ron. “My head is throbbing.”

Hermione stared at Harry, who had just covered his face with a pillow. “Your head is throbbing, you say?”

Then she looked on the floor and noticed the bottle of Firewhiskey and the glasses. “How could you do something so stupid? Have you gone mad? Drinking a whole bottle of… of… who knows what. If you've forgotten, we're here for magical training and at the end of our stay we'll be judged. Besides, today is Harry's birthday.”

“Hermione, please,” whispered Harry, from under the pillow. “Could you please lower your voice just a bit? Every word is pounding in my head.”

“You deserve it!” she exclaimed, furious. “I'd have never imagined such awful behavior from you, Harry James Potter. If you're not out of bed and ready in five minutes, I'll be back with a pail full of ice water. And the same for you, Ronald Weasley.”

Finished with her threat, Hermione rushed out of the room, slamming the door.

After a few seconds, Ron took away the linens from his face and with a great effort sat on the bed. “Didn't I seal the door last night?”

Harry didn't reply. Still confused, he turned to the edge of the bed and put his feet down. When he tried to stand up though, he fell devastatingly to the floor, causing an incontrollable burst of laugher from Ron.

***O***

Harry and Ron managed to compose themselves by late morning, after a cold shower and a strong cup of coffee. Hermione was still upset, but after a detailed account of what had happened the night before and a promise from the boys that this was going to be the first and last time for them to drink alcohol, she decided to forgive them.

Since it was a Saturday, they could spend the day quietly. Harry and Hermione decided to go for a walk, while Ron remained alone at the castle. He said he had a few urgent matters to take care of, but it was clear that he wanted to spend a few hours alone, writing a long owl to his girlfriend.

Hand in hand, Harry and Hermione walked through the wide prairie; after a good half hour, they reached the lake. The sun was shining and the sky was clear blue, even though it was possible to see several dark clouds on the horizon. The young couple sat on the grass under the shadow of a large tree. Occasionally, the curious muzzle of a small Ramora poked out of the water and looked in their direction.

This time, Harry was feeling perfectly fine by Hermione's side. Without thinking too much about it, he stretched out a hand and squeezed hers with affection. She looked at him, smiling. That morning, she was wearing a cute white shirt with flowers printed on it; her skin was pleasantly tanned. Harry felt extremely lucky to be with her.

“It's time for your present.” started Hermione, taking out a small package from her jeans' pocket. “Happy birthday!”

The packet was tied with a nice blue ribbon. Harry happily unwrapped it and when he saw what was inside, his eyes widened in surprise. “Well, I don't... I don't know how to thank you for this.”

“You don't need to,” she replied with a large smile. “You just need to wear it, and show me what it looks like on you.”

It was a thin choker made of black leather, with a small pendant made of unpolished jade hanging on it. Hermione tied it around Harry's neck, then stepped back to look at him.

“Not bad,” she commented, satisfied. “But the most important thing is that this amulet has the power to protect the person wearing it. I've read a lot on the subject and it seems that this kind of stone acts like a lightning rod against the most common dark magic spells.”

Harry tightened his grip on the amulet in his hands. It was green and had an irregular, unfinished rectangular shape with several facets. “Wow, it's great. Thanks!”

Just then, a cloud passed in front of the sun, dampening the strength of its rays. Harry and Hermione looked up, noticing that several dark clouds were slowly covering the sky.

Hermione lowered her gaze, then spoke again. “I have to admit that when I chose this present, I was moved by pure selfishness.”

Harry stared at her, puzzled. Then she went on, trying her best to not looking at him. “The fact is that, well, I just want to be sure that... I mean, if something bad would happen to you, I don't...” Hermione wasn't able to complete her sentence; a painful knot in her throat was preventing her from speaking further.

Harry felt the extreme worry in his girlfriend. He moved closer and wrapped her in his arms. “Everything will be all right. I promise,” he whispered in her ears, sweetly brushing her soft hair.

Hermione hid her face in his chest and hugged him tightly, comforted by his words. She knew very well that Harry had said them just to reassure her, but those words meant also a sort of promise to her.

“I'll always keep the amulet with me,” said Harry, fully enjoying the sweetness of that moment together with the person he loved most in the world.

“Now, I'm sure you think I'm a silly little girl,” commented Hermione, raising her gaze toward him, smiling.

Their faces were so close. Harry got lost in the depth of her brown eyes, which were staring at him with childish ingenuity and gently brushed her face with his fingers. Then, without replying, he closed his eyes and kissed her. Once more, his heart became filled with a whirl of emotions; love, joy, insecurity, fear; they were all bursting inside him like beautiful, colored fireworks.

Carried away by his emotions, Harry lost track of time. Nobody would have wasted the magic of that moment. Without realizing it, they lay down on the grass and continued kissing each other sweetly.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt streaked across the sky and a tremendous clap of thunder shook the ground. Harry raised his gaze when the first drops of rain fell on his forehead.

“Oh no!” exclaimed Hermione, covering her head with her hands. Without leaving them time to think, the rain became heavier and they both had to stand up, breaking off their romantic afternoon.

“Let's go, quick!” Harry exhorted, grabbing Hermione's hand and moving toward the forest to find shelter; their hair and clothes were already becoming wet.

Unexpectedly, Hermione stood still, looking at him amused. “Why don't we go back to the castle, right now?”

Harry didn't realize immediately what she meant; the only thing that was clear to him was that they were going to catch a bad cold if they remained there.

“Have you forgotten that you can use magic now?” explained Hermione, smiling.

She was absolutely right and Harry knew exactly what to do. During the previous school year, professor McGonagall had thought them how to disapparate and they had passed the official examination brilliantly. They just needed to concentrate on the place where they wanted to apparate and say the magical words.

The rain was falling down more intensely and there wasn't time to waste. Harry stood right in front of Hermione, hand in hand with her, then closed his eyes and imagined himself in the entrance of the castle.

As soon as they pronounced the word “IMMANIFESTUS!” their bodies disappeared magically. The feeling was different than that of traveling by Floo powder or Portkey. It was like being suspended in an undefined place, somewhere between the physical world and a place with no physical form. Pronouncing the word “MANIFESTUS!” they reappeared in a dry, covered hallway, right at the entrance of the castle.

When Harry opened his eyes again, he saw Hermione slowly appearing in front of him, her hair and clothes completely wet.

“You've done it. Very good,” she congratulated him; Harry smiled. “We should get upstairs immediately, or Wizzy'll be really angry with both of us.”

A large puddle of water was already forming on the floor, dripping from their wet clothes.

“Let's go!” exhorted Harry, walking fast through the corridor, hand in hand with her.

They passed several rooms on the ground floor. In the library, a group of ghosts wearing eighteenth-century clothing was arguing animatedly about the content of some large, dusty books; in the portraits room, ladies in their frames were chatting in low voices that carried from their paintings.

“I'd like to know what they're gossiping about,” commented Hermione critically, frowning at the paintings. “Harry, if you ever catch me gossiping, I give you permission to...”

“Shhh...” Harry cut her off abruptly, stopping in the middle of the corridor. He then raised a finger to his lips, signaling her to be silent. Hermione looked at him in surprise, but Harry's attention was already drawn by something at the end of the corridor.

Voices could be heard coming from Magnus Erudio's office. Harry signaled her to follow him. Tip toeing, they moved closer to the antechamber of the office. Even though the door was closed, it was possible to hear Erudio talking in a loud voice with someone.

With great caution, they pressed their ears on the door to better listen.

“I tell you once more that it's not proper to cause the boy to worry like this. Please, promise me that you won't reveal anything about what you've just reported to me,” said Erudio with authority.

“An' I'll remind yeh, sir, tha' I've been sen' here by Albus Dumbledore in person.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other with their mouths open, recognizing the voice. Moved by even more curiosity, Harry bent forward to peek through the keyhole on the door. When he saw the imposing figure of his friend Hagrid standing right in front of Erudio, he listened even more carefully to each word they were saying.

“I will personally talk with Albus. Until then, please keep the secret while you're in my castle.”

At Erudio's request, Hagrid scowled his forehead in disappointment, but eventually he seemed to agree with the compromise. “I'll stay at the castle until yeh speak with Dumbledore. I take orders jus' from him and nobody else.”

“That's fair,” ended Erudio, satisfied.

The warlock had just turned to return to his office when Hagrid spoke again. “Even if... well... I'm sure tha' Harry wishes ter know tha'... tha' Mark Evans has been set free.”

Hearing the news, Harry quickly moved away from the door. His eyes widened and he felt his heart begin to beat faster. He then turned his gaze to Hermione, who had just raised her hands to her mouth, holding back a scream of surprise.

1

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(A/N: Dear friends, I'd like to thank you for leaving your reviews, I really appreciated your kind support. Also this time, I wish to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr, who did a great job in editing the chapters. Now, I hope you'll enjoy chapter 6 and will let me know what you think about it.)

Chapter 6. THE VEIL OF TIME AND SPACE

Harry and Hermione ran upstairs as quickly as possible and reached the boys' bedroom. Panting to catch their breath, they opened the door and entered. When they saw Ron, their eyes widened in surprise. He was kneeling in front of the roaring fireplace; his head was completely engulfed in the fire. It was clear that he was talking to someone with Floo powder.

Hermione moved toward Ron deeply annoyed and strongly shook him by his shoulders until his head reappeared from the flames.

“What the bloody hell is going on?” he shouted furiously.

“We have something extremely important to tell you. Come on, say goodbye to Luna and close the fire,” ordered Hermione, frowning at him. Ron stared at her from head to toe, noticing just then that her hair and clothes were completely soaked by the rain.

“All right,” replied Ron unenthusiastically as he turned again to immerse his head in the fire.

Harry moved closer to the fireplace, watching his friend with a certain uneasiness. Even though he had used this unusual method of communication in the past, he still wasn't entirely used to it yet.

After a few minutes, Ron again emerged from the fire and stood up. “Luna says goodbye. She also says that it's boring there without me and I told her that I'm sorry but…”

“RON? Tell us about your problems with Luna later. We've something else to worry about now.” Hermione cut him off, rolling her eyes.

“Hagrid just arrived.” Harry explained, nervously. “Mark has been set free, but Erudio doesn't want me to know about it.”

“There we go, then! That confirms my suspicions.” exclaimed Ron.

“What suspicions?” asked Hermione.

“I never liked that old warlock. I'm sure he's hiding something.”

“Wait a minute boys. We shouldn't jump to any hasty conclusions. Erudio just probably wanted to protect Harry and keep him from doing something foolish.”

“Such as?” asked Harry, annoyed. It seemed that, once again, someone else was making an important decision in his life without asking him first.

“Well, like, for example, rushing off to wherever Mark is hiding and becoming an easy target for Death Eaters.” suggested Hermione.

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Just then, someone knocked and the three friends abruptly turned to the door. Harry opened it immediately and found his friend Hagrid there, with a large smile on his huge bearded face.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, Harry You don' know `ow happy I am ter see yeh again.” The half-giant entered the room with a slight amount of difficulty, then hugged Harry in a bone-crunching embrace. “O' course, I'm happy ter see yeh others as well. Bu' what have yeh done with yehr clothes? Yeh're wet like li'l dragons that've jus' come outta their eggs.” added Hagrid, as soon as he had released his catch.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other uncertainly. Hagrid seemed so enthusiastic to be there with them that they didn't know how they were going to change the subject to Mark Evans.

Suddenly, the crash of a thunder shook the windows, making them jump.

“I've brough' with me a bunch o' presents fer yeh, Harry. Yeh'll see wha' yeh're goin' ter get this year. After all, yeh don't turn seventeen every day, do yeh?” Hagrid leaned outside the door and dragged inside a huge dusty sack made of cloth, patched in several places. Then, he stared at the three, who were standing in front of him in silence. “An' so? Wha's goin' on `ere? Cat got yehr tongue? You don' even make me a place ter sit somewhere?”

Harry snapped back to attention. “Here, Hagrid, come over here.” He took out his wand, pointed it at one of the small armchairs in front of the fire and cast the charm “ENGORGIO!” The armchair grew immediately, reaching the right size for Hagrid, who got seated comfortably and started searching inside the huge sack.

“Le's see... this is from Molly, an' should be a wonderful birthday cake.” Hagrid took out a nice round package, tied up with a red ribbon and gave it to Harry. “This one's from Fred an' George. Those two pranksters said tha' yeh should open it jus' when yeh'll be absolutely alone.” Hagrid noted, handing Harry a thin, rectangular package, covered with multicolored paper.

“H-Hagrid?” started Harry, uncertainly, doing his best to find the right words.

“This one's from Lupin an' this other'n's from me.” continued Hagrid, piling packets in Harry's arms, not removing his big nose from the sack.

“Hagrid, I'm sorry, but there is something… can you stop for a moment, please?” shouted Harry; he angrily set his presents on the nearby bed.

The half-giant raised his head in surprise and stared at the boy with his mouth open.

“I know that Mark's been set free.” said Harry very quickly, looking directly into his huge friend's eyes.

“B-bu' how do yeh know tha'?” asked Hagrid, stuttering.

“I heard you a half hour ago, while you were talking to Erudio.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Hagrid, not adding anything else.

“It happened last night, didn't it? The Order's finally found where Voldemort's hiding? How's Mark? Has anyone been hurt?”

“Hey, hey, stop fer a momen', Harry. I'm sorry but I can' tell yeh anything... well, I wish I could, but I can't.”

“Did Magnus Erudio ask you this? He doesn't want me to know, does he?” Harry asked, his fists tightening with rising anger.

Hagrid lowered his gaze and nervously started playing with his long beard in evident difficulty. It was obvious that one part of him wanted to tell him everything, but another part kept telling himself to shut up. Finally, he raised his gaze sadly and spoke in a whisper. “I'm sorry, but I can't.”

“Fine! I know now what I have to do.” exclaimed Harry furiously, rushing out of the room.

“Harry? Where are you going?” Hermione ran after him and grabbed his arm. “Please, try to calm down.”

“I just want to clear up a few things, that's all.” replied Harry, freeing himself with a sharp tug.

“Harry? HARRY, no!” Hermione kept calling him, but to no avail. He was already running down the stairs two at a time.

Shortly, Harry found himself walking through all the rooms on the ground floor. In his heart, fear and resentment were growing more and more. How dare decide for me. Who does he think he is? Harry kept asking himself.

Harry reached the antechamber of Erudio's office, pointed his wand at the door and cast the spell “ALOHOMORA” With a loud CLICK, the lock opened and the door moved. The room was deserted. Without thinking, Harry rushed inside, pointed his wand at the office door. This time however, the lock opened without requiring a spell.

Slightly surprised, the young wizard waited a few seconds before going inside. He then slowly moved forward through the dark corridor. At the end of it, he could see a wedge of light; the second door also was already open.

Getting closer, Harry heard the continuous ticking of many clocks. With his wand ready, he reached the second door and opened it cautiously.

Erudio's office looked completely different from the last time he was there. Hundreds of clocks of every shape and age were hanging on the walls, denoting the passage of time with their annoying ticking. The piles of books stacked up to the ceiling were gone and now the floor was free of them too. It was now possible to see the warlock sitting at his huge desk on the other side of the room under the small window, against which the rain was incessantly beating.

As the sky was covered by dark clouds, the room was lit only by a few wall torches and two ancient silver chandeliers placed on the desk.

“Come forward, Mr. Potter. I was waiting for you.” Erudio's voice was calm and deep, apparently without emotion.

Harry remained at the door, staring at him suspiciously. How did he know that I was coming? he wondered.

“Use your intuition to find the answer to your question.” exclaimed Erudio, raising his voice, almost annoyed. “You should be able to do it by now.”

What the hell is he talking about? Harry asked himself, slightly intimidated by his attitude. Who was Magnus Erudio really? A wizard with a formidable intuition and thousands of secrets. An expert in Legilimency. But what else?

Forgetting what had brought him there in the first place, Harry moved forward with slow steps, drawn to the warlock like a moth to light.

Erudio was sitting there, his head up and eyes fixed into space, wrapped in a dark cloak. On his head was his usual odd hat of the same color. The warlock spoke, barely moving his lips. “I'm ready to listen to you.”

“Why don't you just read my mind, like you usually do?” started Harry, challenging him. “You're an expert in Legilimency, aren't you? So, get in! My mind's an open book to you.”

“Only if you give me the chance.” exclaimed Erudio readily. “If you don't want someone else to read your thoughts, you just need to make it impossible. You should know very well how to do that.”

“Yeah, I know. With Occlumency,” replied Harry sarcastically.

“Exactly. As you can see, to protect yourself, you just need to use weapons you already possess.”

A few minutes of silence passed, noted only by the ticking of the clock and the rain tapping at the window.

“You don't just use Legilimency, do you? There's something else…” said Harry, even more curious about Erudio's words.

“You tell me, Mr. Potter.”

Harry thought for a moment, recalling all the times Erudio's attitude had surprised him. It was as if the warlock was able to read other peoples' thoughts at distance, even managing to anticipate their moves. Suddenly, Harry understood.

“You're... you're a Seer!” exclaimed the boy with a trembling voice.

“Good guess, Mr. Potter.” confirmed Erudio, smiling satisfied. “We have many things in common. With the willpower of our own minds, we can communicate with others, even escape the confines of normal human awareness. We can even control the elements.” With those words, the warlock raised his right arm in direction of the window and suddenly, the rain stopped. The clouds began to break up and the sun again shone in the sky.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes and kept staring at the window with his mouth open.

“But there is a specific thing we are even better at. We can break through the veil of time and space and see beyond the here and now.” added Erudio. With a movement of his hands, a shining crystal ball appeared in the middle of his desk. “I could, for example, tell you what is happening right now on a street corner in Sydney, Australia. Or I could tell you what happened there yesterday, or what will happen there tomorrow.”

Harry stared at the crystal ball with disappointment and moved a few steps backwards.

“This is a rare gift and we don't need to fear using it.” Erudio exhorted him. “Sometimes, knowing how our future turns out may prevent us from making unforgivable mistakes in the present.”

“We write our future day by day.” Harry contradicted him with strength, using Hermione's words. “It depends on the choices we're making now.”

“What you are saying is wise and gives you honor.” agreed Erudio, nodding. “But I'll tell you this. The wizard who is able to perceive the future and is moved by positive ideals has the obligation to use this power. Pay attention, it isn't a right, but a duty.”

Harry didn't fully understand the meaning of those words. Did it meant that looking into the future was going to be a duty for him? Would someone force him to do it, against his will? But who was going to force him? Magnus Erudio? Or maybe Dumbledore? Or even Voldemort?

“I dare say that you've never tried seriously.” Erudio's affirmation interrupted Harry's thoughts. “Why not try it right now? Aren't you curious to know what is written in your tomorrow? Or in your friends' tomorrows?”

Suddenly, the image of Mark Evans burst into Harry's mind; the pressing desire to know how he was pushed him to speak. “Mark! I need to know how he is.”

“I don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Potter.” Erudio warned him, deeply upset.

Not paying attention to his words, Harry moved closer to the desk and stared at his reflection in the crystal ball. He then closed his eyes and tried to move every thought out of his mind, except for the thought of Mark Evans. With his mind, he forced himself to focus on Mark's face, his long red hair, his large, deep green eyes, and his smile.

Mark, where are you now? I need to talk to you. At his silent calling, a whirlwind of emotions invaded Harry's heart. There was one, however, that prevailed, the strongest at that time. Grief, deep and intense, able to tear apart body and soul, a pain born of betrayal.

Harry opened his eyes, shocked, and panted heavily to regain his breath. What he saw in front of him however didn't make him feel any better. Reflected in the crystal ball, Mark Evans was suffering. He was lying on a bed, his face emaciated and gouged by deep scars. His hair was dirty and ruffled, his arms stretched out begging for help and forgiveness.

“Mark!” shouted Harry desperately. In that moment, the image in the crystal ball disappeared in a cloud of white fog. “I must reach him.” said Harry firmly.

“Are you sure that is what you really want?” asked Erudio enigmatically.

“Mark is suffering. He needs me,” insisted Harry.

“Do what you believe is right, then.” exclaimed Erudio, unmoved. “But hear my warning. What Mark will reveal is going to upset you deeply.”

“I don't care. I have to go.”

The warlock closed his eyes and didn't reply. Harry took this gesture as an assent, turned his back to him and went to the door. He had just set his hand on the handle when Erudio spoke a last time.

“Albus Dumbledore has already arranged your transfer for tonight. One of the wizards from the Order of the Phoenix will come to take you. I believe that we won't see each other when you return.”

Harry nodded without turning to look at him, then opened the door and exited the room.

***O***

The young wizard went through halls and corridors, not paying attention to where he was going. His mind was crowded with thousands of thoughts and worries, still shocked by the vision he just had. He knew that he needed to see Mark as soon as possible, before the worst could happen.

Like a robot, he mindlessly walked to the main stairway and ran upstairs. He needed to tell Ron and Hermione and needed organize his departure and…

“Harry Potter, sir?”

A squeaking voice captured Harry's attention right as he reached the second floor. Someone was calling him from the first floor; he turned to search in the dark behind him.

“Harry Potter?” Little Wizzy was peeping out from a corner, staring at him with his huge green eyes.

Harry descended the stairs and reached the house elf, looking at him puzzled.

“I need to talk to you, Harry Potter sir.” whispered Wizzy, with a certain insistence. “But not here in the corridor. Please, come with me to somewhere that's better.”

Without further explanation, the elf turned and walked along the dark corridor. After a moment of uncertainty, Harry decided to follow him. They both entered one of the rooms and the young wizard magically sealed the door.

“LUMOS!” At Harry's command, his wand lit up revealing an ancient, dusty bedroom with its furniture covered by old, worn-out bed sheets. “What do you want to tell me? I haven't got much time.” Harry exhorted the elf, brightening up his little face.

“I did it,” affirmed Wizzy in a whisper, looking around warily.

“You did what?”

“That piece of parchment. I set it in Harry Potter's bedroom.”

“Go on.” Harry exhorted again. Wizzy's confession only confirmed his suspicions, but now Harry needed to know more.

“I've been serving my master for many years, just like my father and grandfather did before me. But I'm worried about what is happening now!” explained Wizzy, rubbing his hands nervously and lowering his gaze to the floor. Harry knew very well that it wasn't a simple thing for a house elf to reveal his master's secrets.

“Well, I shouldn't say this, but… I know how important you are, Harry Potter. My cousin Dobby has often told me about it.”

Everything suddenly became clearer to Harry. Wizzy and Dobby were related; this also explained their incredible resemblance.

“A few months ago, my master went on a trip, remaining away for many days. He has never done such a thing before.” Wizzy went on, speaking with great difficulty. “When he came back, I found that piece of parchment in the folds of his cloak.”

“Do you maybe know where he went?” asked Harry, even more curious.

Suddenly, Wizzy grabbed a small bronze statue from a nearby table and hit his head with it.

“Wizzy, no! Please don't.” Harry managed to snatch the statue away from his hands before the elf could continue.

“I'm extremely sorry, Harry Potter, but it's not permitted for a house elf to say such private things. I had to punish myself.”

“All right, but now stop it.”

Wizzy lowered his gaze, mortified. “I greatly appreciate your generosity, Harry Potter.”

“Please, go on with your story.”

“Unfortunately, I don't know my master's destination, but there is something that scares me a lot. After this trip, my master always talks about Harry Potter and… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

A few minutes of silence passed by, during which Harry kept staring at the elf, thinking over what he had just told him. When the young wizard was able to gather his thoughts, he tried to ask a more specific question. “D-do you maybe… do you maybe remember what you master usually says?”

Wizzy shook his head sadly. “When I enter his rooms, my master suddenly stops talking.”

“But why do you think…”

“He's changed.” Wizzy cut him off. “My master has always been good to me and to the other house elves. My master has always considered us as his most trusted friends. But now, he treats us with sternness, as if we were his enemies. He doesn't trust us anymore.”

Harry sighed deeply, and tried to make sense of Wizzy's words. “In short, you think that Voldemort has done something bad to your master?”

Hearing the name, Wizzy closed his eyes and covered his ears with the hands. “I don't know. I just want that my master comes back as he was before and that he doesn't talk about things I fear.”

“Yes, but what can I do?” asked Harry, spreading his arms out, clueless.

The house elf raised his huge green eyes which were filled with mystery. “Harry Potter needs to stay on guard.”

***O***

“So, you believe that Magnus Erudio is acting under the Imperius Curse?” Hermione's question gave voice to all the doubts that were crowding Harry's mind in that moment.

After the short conversation with Wizzy, Harry ran to his room where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. Hagrid wasn't there; he had gone back to Hogwarts, fearing he had revealed too much about Mark Evans.

Harry quickly changed his clothes, which were still wet from the rain, and had prepared a small bag for his trip.

The three friends were now sitting cross-legged on the floor, making different guesses to explain what had just happened. Harry told them about his meeting with Erudio, that the warlock was a Seer, and that he had exhorted Harry to use his foresight power to read the future.

Regarding what Wizzy had told him, at least one important thing was clear. That piece of parchment, the same that had caused Harry to have that worrying vision, came from the mysterious place where Magnus Erudio had visited. If the warlock's behavior had really changed since then, it meant that someone or something had caused this change in him.

“If you want my opinion, the Imperius Curse is the key,” pointed out Ron. “Things must've gone like this: Erudio leaves for a trip, but a group of Death Eaters attacks him and under torture, he reveals that Harry is going to spend a good part of the summer here. Knowing this, the Death Eaters cast the Imperius Curse on Erudio, so that the warlock is going to follow their orders faithfully. What do you think?”

“I say that theory doesn't stand up.” Hermione contradicted him. “Our arrival at Hermitage Castle was planned right after Harry's accident at Privet Drive. Before that, nobody had ever mentioned our transfer here. Besides, how did the Death Eaters know that Erudio was going on a trip? Lupin told us that he has always been a secluded wizard, far away from the rest of the world for several years.”

“Well… Erudio is a Seer, and he could have known in advance that we were going to come, even much earlier than Dumbledore.”

“Since he's a Seer, he could have also seen in advance that the Death Eaters were going to attack him, don't you think?”

“Yeah… maybe you're right.” finished Ron, resigned.

“Wait a minute!” Harry cut them off. “Wizzy was extremely worried. He seems to think there is a clear bond between Magnus Erudio's behavior, Voldemort, and me. If Erudio is really under the Imperius Curse, then I think you should come with me.”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment. In their eyes, there was a heavy veil of anxiety.

“It's better if we stay here.” affirmed Hermione. “Erudio could become suspicious, seeing all three of us leaving. And also, if we stay here, we'll be able to check on his movements.”

“CHECK HIS MOVEMENTS?” shouted Ron. “We're talking about our lives here. Or do you think that we're playing spies?”

“Oh, Ron, why can't you understand? If Erudio really is on Voldemort's side, then it's important that Harry tells Dumbledore about this. In the meantime, we need to remain here and be sure that nothing strange happens.” she ended, firmly.

“Hermione, I don't think that…” Harry was going to express his doubts, but Hermione cut him off.

“Listen to me, Harry. The wisest thing for you to do now is to reach Mark, while we remain here. Then, you can speak with Dumbledore about our suspicions and he'll tell you what to do. Don't worry about us. I'm sure Erudio won't risk doing something bad and being uncovered.”

Despite Hermione's explanation, Harry still wasn't feeling sure. “Then, swear to me that you'll be careful. If you notice anything odd, you'll disapparate away from this place. Immediately!”

Hermione smiled sweetly. She reached out her hand and squeezed Harry's. “I promise. Don't worry, we'll be careful.”

1

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(a/n: Hi there! I'd like to thank my faithful readers, especially those of you who have left a review, like Destroyerdt and Lily Fish. As usual, a big thanks goeas to my BETA reader IronChefOr, for his great job. I hope chapter 7 will like you...)

Chapter 7. GOOD AND EVIL

That evening after sunset, Remus Lupin arrived at Hermitage castle to escort Harry to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Both traveled by Portkey, as it wasn't possible to apparate there; it was one of the many security measures Dumbledore put in place for the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix.

The two wizards entered the large kitchen of what in the past had been the House of the Blacks. Mrs. Weasley was busy preparing tea while Mr. Weasley was sitting in front of the fireplace, a worn-out expression on his face. Harry noticed that his hair, which at one time had been hued red like that of his children, was now whiter; he had deep black circles under his eyes, making him look older and more tired than ever before.

“Welcome back. We were waiting for you,” Molly greeted them in a whisper.

“Any improvement?” asked Lupin seriously.

“None at all, Remus. At the moment, his condition remains unchanged,” Arthur replied with a hint of resignation in his voice.

Molly turned to Harry, smiling slightly. “Are you all right, dear?”

Harry nodded. “How were you able to rescue him? Did you find out Voldemort's hideout?”

Hearing the name, Molly shivered as Arthur coughed nervously. “Harry, it looked like the Death Eaters knew we were coming. They all escaped in time. We just found Mark in there, closed in a small, dirty cell.”

Just then, Harry recalled his recurring nightmare. “Was the cell in a... labyrinth... or maze?”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other puzzled, then Arthur spoke for both of them. “That's true, Harry. Did Remus already tell you about that?”

Harry didn't want to explain further. It was important to him to have confirmation of his suspicions. It meant that his nightmares were reflecting reality. In fact, this was what made them even worse. “I'd like to… I'd like to see Mark now.”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a worried glance; they knew that talking to Mark would be extremely difficult for Harry. This time however, Lupin spoke. “I'll show you to him.”

Harry and Remus exited the kitchen, reached the entrance hall, then walked up the stairs. The walls were empty; someone had finally managed to get rid of the horrible painting of Sirius's mother as well as the house-elves' severed heads.

“You've had visions about that, haven't you? I mean about the place were Mark was kept.” Lupin asked suddenly. Harry nodded without adding a word.

Arriving on the second floor, they stopped in front of one of the doors. Before entering, Lupin turned to Harry a last time, his entire face gloomy. “You can go in alone, but I need to warn you. Mark is extremely weak. The Spiratus Curse is slowly consuming his lungs. It seems his body isn't strong enough to fight it. Try to keep him from speaking as much as possible. I'll wait for you here in the corridor.”

Harry felt a painful bite in his stomach, his uneasiness rising more and more. Entering the room, darkness weighed on his eyes like a veil. The only source of light was a small candle placed on the windowsill, lighting a small canopy bed in a corner of the room.

Harry slowly moved closer. Mark was lying on the bed with his eyes closed. His face was extremely thin and marred by deep scars, still stained with blood. His long red hair was now striped with white, evidence of the pain he had suffered.

Hearing the creaking of the floorboards, Mark suddenly opened his eyes and turned, alarmed. “Who's there?”

Harry didn't reply, but stopped a few steps from the bed in front of the feeble candle light. Mark stared at him for a long moment with his mouth open. “James! I knew it. You've come back to punish me.”

This caught Harry unprepared. “I'm not James!” he exclaimed, after a long pause of silence.

“Harry? Is it really you?” A slight smile lit Mark's pale face. “I can't believe you're still alive.”

Silence fell again between them. Harry struggled internally, not knowing how to express his thoughts and feelings. Ever since that horrible night in Knockturn Alley, he had wanted to once again speak to him, face to face. He wanted to ask the true reason for his inconceivable betrayal and maybe... let out his disappointment and anger. But now, in front of him, there was just the shadow of a wounded, dying man... someone not to hate, but to have pity on.

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, not having enough strength to speak.

Mark then broke the icy silence. “I know that you hate me, Harry and I don't blame you for it. I've betrayed your trust. I brought you and your friends right into the hands of the enemy. You were going to be killed!” He suddenly stopped, coughing violently. He then raised a hand to his chest when he was finally able to calm down and spoke again with great difficulty. “I'm a monster. No better than Lucius Malfoy or Bellatrix Lestrange. If you've come here to enjoy my suffering, I can't blame you. You have every reason to do so.”

“We're not all the same, Mark,” Harry breathed. “I could never take pleasure in someone else's suffering.”

“What drove you to come here then?” asked Mark, after eyeing Harry from head to toe.

“I need to understand,” replied Harry, moving a bit closer. “Tell me why you joined Voldemort all that time ago. How is it possible that no one was able to stop you?”

Another sudden hit of coughing shook Mark violently. Alarmed, Harry grabbed his shoulders, helping him to lay back on the bed. “Shall I call someone to help you?”

“NO! It's absolutely useless,” he whispered once he regained his breath enough to speak. “My time is almost finished and I don't want to waste it, just like I've wasted my entire life. You need answers from me and I'm ready to give them to you.”

Harry sat on a nearby chair and stared intensely at Mark, waiting for him to speak.

“I don't remember my parents. They died when I was very young. I spent my childhood in an orphanage, enduring all sorts of mistreatment from my elder mates. You know? I always found curious it that Tom Riddle, the young wizard who would become the dangerous Lord Voldemort, also spent his childhood in an orphanage. When I got to Hogwarts, I had so much resentment inside me that I thought I was going to explode. I felt rebellious, like someone who was misunderstood.” Mark stopped, his stare lost in space.

“Even though I was a Gryffindor, I looked at the young Slytherins with admiration. In my eyes, they were so brave, always ready to impose their way on the others. How blind I was at that time. Those who I considered heroes were just stupid brats. The Dark Lord was a true idol to them, an example to follow... the only one able to return the original glory and power to pure blood wizards.” Finishing his sentence, Mark brought his hand to his throat, panting.

“Stop! It's too much for you!” Harry exclaimed in alarm.

“I'm fine, I'm fine. I just need some water.”

Harry nodded. He noticed a glass of water on the bed table and promptly handed it to him. Mark drank it all at once, then continued talking. “At sixteen, I decided to leave school. I didn't tell anyone where I was going or why. In my heart, I had only one desire: to show the whole world who I really was and how brave I was.”

“And my parents?” Harry asked, becoming more and more shocked with every word. “Why they didn't stop you?”

“The first time I met Lily, I had just arrived at Hogwarts. I was eleven; she was in fifth year. Dumbledore told us that we were related and she took me under her wing, helping me on more than one occasion. Unfortunately, when Lily and James finished their last year and left school, I felt as though I had become an orphan for the second time. Wanting a better life, I left when I was sixteen and found the Death Eaters' hideout.

“Those wizards were strong, crafty, skilled in dark magic. I was completely blinded by their promises. Very quickly I realized the terrible mistake I had made. They had no pity and hated everybody, except themselves. Their only purpose was to follow the foolish orders of the Dark Lord.” Mark stopped again and took another gulp of water. By now he was speaking with great difficulty, but Harry knew all too well that no one would've been able to prevent him from continuing.

“During those months, I witnessed unspeakable atrocities against Muggles and half-bloods. But it finally became too much when I learned that they were looking for your parents. Crazy with fear, I ran to Lily and James. That evening, I entered their house, making sure that nobody was following me. I told your parents that they were in extreme danger and that they needed to find a safer place to hide. You were just a few months old, Harry, and they promised to do everything possible to protect you. That was the last time I saw Lily and James.”

A few minutes of silence followed. Mark was doing his best to hold back his tears, while Harry was trying to imagine the entire scene, feeling a knot of pain in his throat.

“For sixteen long years I traveled, not staying in the same town for more than one day. I knew that the Dark Lord was going to find me sooner or later... it was just matter of time. I was an outcast, unworthy to live in either in the magical world or in the Muggle world. Unworthy to have friends or even a family. But the desire to return to my beloved England was stronger than my will power and finally, I surrendered.

“I was surprised when Dumbledore came looking for me and more surprised to hear his offer to go back to Hogwarts and replace Lupin there, as a teacher. You know too well the rest of the story... I don't need to add anything more. At the end of my life, the only thing I've been able to prove to the world is that I'm a weak man, unable to endure evil, a traitor of the worst kind.” Another violent attack of coughing prevented him from continuing.

Mark was covering his mouth with his hand; Harry saw blood dripping between his fingers. Extremely worried, he stood up and rushed to the door, but Mark insistently called him back. “Harry, please. My end is near, nobody can help me. I just need you to listen to me, one last time.”

Suddenly, Lupin entered the room. Without noticing that Harry was standing by the door, he strode over to the bed and helped Mark lay down. “Everything will be fine,” Lupin tried to reassure him, even though his eyes were deeply worried.

“Thank you my friend, but it's too late.” Mark smiled slightly, then turned to Harry, who was now standing by the bed in shocked silence.

“Harry, listen to my last words. There is but a thin line between good and evil. A wrong move and you risk falling into a deep abyss, from which it is almost impossible to escape.”

“That's enough Mark. Harry understands. You don't need to go on.” Lupin's efforts were useless. Mark stretched out a hand and with his last bit of strength he grabbed Harry's shirt, looking at the boy with crazed eyes.

“Good and evil are both present in our souls… the most important thing is to make the right choice… Harry, make sure to always be faithful to your ideals and not to surrender to the evil, even if you think that it would be the easiest way. Do not follow my steps. Do not throw your life away.”

Now, completely exhausted, Mark fell heavily back on the pillow, closing his eyes. Crazy with fear, Harry grabbed his arms and shook him insistently. “Mark! MARK! Please talk to me.”

Mark Evans slowly opened the eyes, and with an extreme effort, he spoke his last words. “For-give-me-Harry.”

“Of course I forgive you,” whispered Harry. He was still tightly holding Mark's arms. He felt his warm tears falling down his cheeks. “I forgive you...”

Hearing those words whispered with emotion, Mark, smiling, closed his eyes and left forever. Out the window, the light of sunrise was announcing a new day.

***O***

In the days that followed, Harry remained shut away in his room. He only wanted to be in solitude. Mark's death, and his last words, had touched him deeply, branding another scar on his young heart. Once again, he'd witnessed the death of a friend, caused by Lord Voldemort.

Lupin and Mrs. Weasley tried several times to talk to him, without success. Stubbornly, Harry spent hours huddled in a corner of his room, his stare lost in space, unable to cry or react in any other way. In his mind, a seemingly unending torrent of questions hammered away at him, demanding an appropriate reply. Why has my way always been signed by death? Why do I always feel like a prisoner without escape? Wouldn't it be better to just run away, far from everything and everybody, just like Mark did years ago?

Confusion and fear were predominant in his heart: a terrible fear of the future, of what was going to happen soon... his destined confrontation with his mortal enemy, Lord Voldemort.

That evening, Harry stood by the window, looking at the soft light of the sunset which was filtering in the room. Sadly, he turned to the tray with his dinner, which Mrs. Weasley had brought him hours ago. His stomach was in knots and he was unable to eat anything.

With a deep sigh, he turned again to watch the sunset. The sun had already disappeared behind the buildings; the sky was beginning to take the coloring of black ink. With unending tiredness, he covered his face with his hands, hoping that when he opened his eyes again, he would find that it was just another one of his horrible nightmare and nothing real.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Someone knocked at the door. Thinking that it was Mrs. Weasley collecting the tray, he didn't move from the window.

“Harry? It's me, Hermione. May I come in?”

Hearing her voice, it was as though Harry was able to breath again, surfacing after a prolonged skin-dive.

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione slowly opened the door. The light of the corridor spilled into the dark room. They stared each other for a moment, remaining in silence. It was as if time and space had ceased to exist. Then, without saying a word, Hermione ran to him, hugging him tightly in her arms. Harry felt his love for her swelling, filling the emptiness in his soul. He hid his face in her soft hair and closed his eyes, finally feeling safe at last.

***O***

Harry and Hermione returned to Hermitage castle that very evening. They asked several times to speak to Dumbledore, however Lupin and Mr. Weasley replied categorically every time. It seemed that the Headmaster was traveling outside of England at the time, on a top secret mission for the Order.

Hermione also tried to explain that there was something odd in Magnus Erudio's behavior. Lupin, however, replied that they all trusted the warlock and that she, Harry, and Ron had nothing to fear.

Once at the castle, Harry and Hermione found Ron waiting for them in their bedroom. Although he was curious to know the details of what had happened at Grimmauld Place, he chose to keep his questions to himself, not wanting to add to his friend's stress any more. That evening, nobody mentioned Mark Evans.

The following morning, a potions lesson was planned. Hermione arrived at the boys' bedroom very early, but remained still in front of the door for a few minutes. She too was sorry about Mark's death, but she was more concerned about Harry's behavior. It appeared as though he wasn't able to open his heart to her. Every question she asked, he always replied with monosyllables.

Hermione sighed deeply, then raised her hand to knock on the door; it opened suddenly, revealing an extremely sleepy Ron.

“Merlin's beard, Ron! You scared me!”

“Shhhh! Harry's still sleeping,” Ron said, rubbing his eyes. “He kept moaning the whole night. I think he finally fell asleep at sunrise. I didn't sleep well either… Uaaaahhh!” he added, ending the sentence with a resounding yawn.

Hermione rose on her tiptoes and peered inside the dark room. “May I go in for a second?” she asked in a whisper; Ron nodded.

Once inside, she slowly moved to Harry's bed and stared at him apprehensively. The soft morning light filtered in through the windows, revealing his extremely pale and thin face. His dark hair, a bit longer than usual, lay disheveled on the white pillow. His regular breath gave an idea of how deeply he was sleeping.

“Do you think we should wake him up?” whispered Ron.

“I don't think so. I'll leave him a note,” Hermione replied. She went over to the desk and started searching for a quill and a piece of parchment. She hurriedly wrote a few lines, then slipped the note inside the Advanced Potions book and put it on Harry's bed table, putting his glasses on top of it. Before leaving, she moved closer and sweetly caressed his cheek with her fingers.

“We should go now,” Ron whispered nervously. Hermione nodded, leaving her boyfriend unwillingly.

After the two of them left the room and it was possible to hear their footsteps at the bottom of the corridor, Harry opened his eyes and turned his stare to the ceiling. He had pretended to be asleep; he didn't have any intention of joining Ron and Hermione for the lesson. Tiredly, he stretched a hand out to take his glasses. He pulled Hermione's note out of the book and read it.

Good morning Harry. We wanted to let you sleep a bit more today, hoping that you'll join us for lunch. In the meantime, why don't you start with Snape's essay on the most poisonous potions? Love Hermione.”

Letting out a puff of breath in annoyance, Harry sat up on the bed and picked up the large Potions text. He then pointed his wand at the nearby candelabrum. “Incendio!” The candles lit.

The chapter about the most poisonous plants started on page 520. Although Harry didn't' really want to study, he tried, all the same, to follow Hermione's suggestion and began to read.

The use of poisonous plants became a common practice in the Middle Ages. It's known that in 1034, Sir Mathias De Bubberon prepared an infusion of Amanita phalloides and tested it on his wife Lady Anya. After having carefully taken note of the effects of the poison, he promptly gave her the antitoxic made with extract of Silybum marianum. Inexplicably, Lady Anya decided to leave her husband afterwards, but that is another story.

With a grimace of disgust, Harry closed the book and threw it against the wardrobe. In that moment, he didn't at all care how many poisonous potions Sir Mathias De Bubberon had experimented with. Actually, he even didn't care about starting Snape's essay. The only thing he wanted to do was to spend the whole day lying on his bed and not see another living soul. But then he realized that Hermione was expecting him to do his homework; the thought of disappointing her became unbearable.

Harry slowly got out of bed and moved to collect the book from the floor. He had just bent down when his attention was caught by a twinkling under the bed. Pushed by his curiosity, he crouched down further and suddenly realized that it was the colored wrapping paper of his birthday presents. With all that had happened, he had completely forgotten that he had turned seventeen just a few days earlier.

Harry took the presents out from under the bed and sat on the floor, looking at them one at a time. He opened Mrs. Weasley's cake covered with chocolate icing; he took a bite of one of the slices. He unwrapped a small brown box, in which he found a white, furry ferret tail, with a small iron ring attached to it. He looked at the present for a while, wondering the use of it. He then read the card.

Happy birthday, Harry! If you've already opened Lupin's present, then you already know why you'll need my present. If you haven't opened it yet, well… you should go and open Lupin's present right now, so you'll understand. Hagrid.

Even more curious, Harry looked for Lupin's present and opened it quickly. He was surprised to see that it was a type of silver key, with an half-moon shape. There was a card with it.

Dear Harry. Since you've become of age, I'm sure that you'll appreciate this present. It's Sirius's motorbike. Keep the key safe, until the start of term... Best wishes, Remus Lupin.

Harry smiled, feeling deeply honored. He stuck his index finger through the key ring and spun the key around his finger. Harry felt as though it meant that Lupin, as well as Dumbledore and the other adults who loved him, finally trusted him. This thought was of great comfort. He held the key tightly in his hand, then hid it in his pocket.

Fred and George's present was a flat, rectangular box wrapped in multi-colored paper. Inside the box, he found a bag made of black dragon leather with a card hanging from it.

Our best wishes to you Harry. Do you remember when Dumbledore asked us to create something special for the Order? Well, we're proud to inform you that we made it. In this bag you'll find prototypes of our newest inventions against dark magic. Happy Birthday and… have fun! Fred & George.

PS: Just a reminder. To open the bag, you need to make a certain promise...

Harry thought about their last words, and then understood. He pointed his wand at the bag and whispered, “I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good!”

Suddenly, the lock unlatched and the bag opened, revealing its precious contents: a large variety of magical devices, worthy of the most daring secret agent.

Each device was labeled with its name and use. On a little round box was written, “Invisibility Gummy: Eat one and you'll disappear for more than a half an hour.” There was a watch called “Foe-glass Watch: Useful cross between a Muggle watch and one of the best foe-glasses ever invented in the magical world.” There was even an improved version of Fred and George's Extendable Ears, able to break Imperturbable Charms. These complemented perfectly their brand new “Extendable Eyes.”

But Harry's attention was drawn to a small aerosol can labeled “Mystery Revealer: A simple spray on doors or walls, and any secrets behind will be secret no more. Duration is rated at a maximum of five minutes per spray.” Reading the label, a crazy idea came to Harry's mind.

Why not use it to reveal Magnus Erudio's secrets? he asked himself, becoming more and more intrigued the longer he thought about it. Wasting no time, he stood up and got dressed. He put on a pair of worn-out jeans and a black T-shirt, then rushed out of the room with the can in his pocket.

It's still early. I'm sure Erudio is busy with Ron and Hermione now, he thought, running downstairs. Once he reached the main entrance, he looked around warily to be sure that nobody was following him. He then headed to the restricted west wing of the castle, where Erudio's rooms were.

He slowly went upstairs and made it to the deserted corridor on the second floor. Everything was dark and quiet. Harry cautiously walked until he reached an heavy wooden door, with golden handles. He again looked around before taking out his wand to try to open the lock.

“ALOHOMORA!” he whispered. For a couple of seconds the door shone with a blue light, but nothing else happened.

Harry tried the spell again, without success. The door must have been protected by a strong Imperturbable or locking charm. Wanting to go further, he took the Mystery Revealer out of his pocket and gave the door a good spray. The door began to shimmer with a rippling effect, as if it was made of gelatin. Finally, it disappeared, revealing the inside of the dark room.

“Wow!” exclaimed Harry. Hesitant, he stretched out a hand toward the door, but realized that it wasn't possible to go beyond it. The spray had only made the door transparent. The effect would have lasted for nearly five minutes.

Nervously, he lit his wand and pointed it inside, revealing a small canopy bed in a corner, several shelves on the walls full of books, and a large desk covered with pieces of parchment.

“Damn it!” he exclaimed in anger. “All useless!”

Harry was about to give up when little Wizzy materialized at his side with a resounding “POP!” making Harry jump in place from surprise.

“May I help you, Harry Potter sir?” asked the elf with his ringing voice.

“H-how did you know that I was here?” asked Harry, again looking warily around him.

“I didn't know it, in fact. I just came to clean my Master's room and I found you.”

“Well I… actually, I don't…” stammered Harry, trying to find a good excuse.

“Harry Potter don't need to justify his actions to me. For sure, Harry Potter is acting in my Master's good interests, that's why I won't say a word to any living soul.”

“T-thanks Wizzy,” said Harry, sighing in relief.

“Please, this way.” The elf stretched out his hand toward the lock. Suddenly, the door opened.

Harry slowly moved inside, while Wizzy stood watch by the door. With little time, Harry moved directly to the desk, lighting it with his wand. He looked through the mess of parchment and open books which lay upon it.

His attention was caught by a large, dark-colored book, labeled with two sets of initials: “HJP / LJP.” Frowning, he skimmed through it, soon realizing that it was collection of virtually every article ever written about himself, taken from the Daily Prophet. Many of them dated back to the time of the Triwizard Tournament, three years ago. Many others were from his fifth year in school, when he was portrayed as a liar looking for notoriety. Other more recent articles pictured him as an hero.

Harry skimmed through the pages, becoming increasingly surprised and puzzled. What was the meaning of all the interest that Erudio had with him?

Suddenly, the desk jolted; Harry moved away, surprised. There probably was a boggart hidden in one of the drawers. Not placing much importance on it, he frantically kept searching for other information among the sheets of parchment. The desk jolted a second and third time, more violently.

At this point, Harry decided it was time to leave. That stupid boggart's making too much noise! He stepped away from the desk and started to head to the door when the desk jolted a last time. The drawer opened itself, allowing a thick gray cloud of fog to roll out. Expecting to face a dementor, Harry prepared himself to cast a Patronus charm. What he saw when he turned around left him speechless.

In front of him wasn't a dementor, but an exact copy of himself. The boggart had taken Harry's form. Now, the two wizards were looking at each other in disbelief, both with their wand lit and held in their right hand.

Harry didn't have time to understand what was going on; his double pointed his wand against him and cast a spell with a voice full of hate “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

Right as the ray of green light was about to hit him, Harry promptly jumped to the side, avoiding it. Still bewildered, he rolled on his back and found refuge under the canopy bed. During those few, feverish seconds, he felt his heart beating furiously as he tried to find an explanation. It's just a boggart, a stupid boggart! he kept repeating to himself.

In the meantime, his double was slowly moving toward him with wand raised. Harry was ready and as soon as he heard it coming, he stood up and attacked it, “RIDDIKULUS!”

At Harry's words, a beam of light rushed from his wand and caught the boggart square in the chest. Unexpectedly, the spell didn't have any effect and the creature was still there, ready to cast another spell, “AVADA KEDA…”

“EXPELLIARMUS!” shouted Harry promptly and the boggart's wand flew out of it's hand. Then, with all his strength, Harry threw himself on it and immobilized it on the floor, holding its arms across its chest.

“RIDDIKULUS! RIDDIKULUS!” With his free hand, Harry tried several times to cast the spell, without any effect. Not only did the creature not disappear, but it was staring at him with an evil sneer plastered on its face.

“Who are you? What do you want?” shouted Harry, his voice full of anger. The reply came quickly. Suddenly, the boggart's eyes changed color, from bright green to blood red, with a thin pupil like that of a snake.

Shocked, Harry felt his strength leaving him and was unable to maintain his restraint. The boggart released itself, pushed him aside and stood up. Harry remained on the floor, looking at the creature in disbelief. “It's not possible...”

Slowly, but inexorably, the boggart transformed again and in a few seconds it became the exact copy of Lord Voldemort. Its cadaverous pale face and long, skeleton-like fingers emerged from its cloak sleeves, a demonic look in its eyes. The boggart summoned its wand and pointed it directly at Harry, who shouted “You're not real. YOU-ARE-NOT-REAL!”

He gathered all of his courage and stood up, tightened his grip on the wand in his right hand, and desperately tried once more to cast the spell. “RIDDIKULUS!” A ray of golden light hit the boggart directly in the heart and finally, it disappeared in a silvery cloud of fog.

Still disoriented, Harry reached the door staggering, and found Wizzy there, looking at him with eyes wide open. Without saying a word, Harry ran away as fast as he could. He descended the stairs and then exited the main gate. Not knowing where he was going, he only wanted to be as far away as possible from that place, and from everybody.

Harry ran and ran, driven by the force of his desperation; he could feeling his legs trembling. When he wasn't able to take another step, he fell on the grass, exhausted and upset. His face red and forehead sweaty, he lay there for a while, staring at the gray sky above him, trying to regain his breath. “I'll never be like HIM! I'll never become his slave! NEVER!”

“You are my equal, Harry Potter.” Suddenly, a cold and evil voice entered his mind with insistence. “Come with me or lose all the ones you love.”

Harry closed his eyes and brought his hands to his head, trying to cast out that horrible voice. He then felt his anger rising inside him, and felt the need to react to all that was happening to him. He stood up and shouted with all his strength against the wind. “I'll never be yours. Can you hear me? NEVER, NEVER!”

Harry took a big stone from the ground and threw it away, as far as he could, feeling his heart beating violently in his chest. Then, he looked around, realizing that he was completely alone in the middle of the wide open prairie. Tired and disheartened, he felt warm tears falling down his face. “I'll never be like you,” he whispered, feeling a knot in his throat. “I'll never surrender to you.”

On the horizon, large gray clouds announced a storm.

7

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(A/N: Thanks to Talialyn and to Destroyerdt for reviewing the previous chapter. I really appreciated it. We've left our Harry in deep frustration. What's going to happen now? Who is going to help him this time? Read, find out and possibly review, thanks.)

Chapter 8. TWO NEW GRYFFINDORS

The city of London had just fallen into darkness, the deafening toll of Westminster Abbey's bells was resounding through the night air. A hooded Death Eater was walking along a dark corridor lined by with stone walls. He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and hesitated before knocking.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Without waiting for a reply, he opened the door and entered, quickly reaching the center of the room. He bowed in front of his master who was standing by the open window with his back to the newcomer.

“Everything is ready, my Lord. We await your orders.”

Lord Voldemort slowly opened his eyes as a satisfied sneer appeared on his sunken, corpse-like face. Wrapped in a dark cloak, his tall figure was barely visible in the twilight, illuminated only by the burning fireplace.

“You've done well, Nott. Soon, you'll know when to take action. This time, my dear old friend Albus won't be able to save him. There will be no escape for Potter this time.” His words were followed by a hateful laugh. “The boy's mind is an open book to me now. Soon, he'll fall to my will. When I'm finished with him, there'll be nothing standing between me and absolute power.”

“And you'll always have me by your side, Master.” Nott added in a whisper, echoing Voldemort's evil laugh.

***O***

The last weeks of the holiday flew by quickly; the time to return to school arrived soon. At the end of August, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved to Grimmauld Place to be nearer King's Cross Station.

After the dramatic fight with the boggart in Magnus Erudio's room, Harry began to withdraw himself even further. He soon began to have a clear understanding of what happened that day. A boggart took the shape of the deepest fear of the person standing in front of it. It now looked like Harry's deepest fear was to discover his similarity with his eternal enemy, Lord Voldemort.

In the days following the encounter, Harry stubbornly refused to continue with his magical training, causing Hermione to worry about him more. She tried every possible thing she could think of to get him to change his mind, but it was all futile. While she and Ron kept busy with Erudio and his instruction, Harry passed his time alone, closed away in his room or outside, on the grounds by the lake.

Just as the warlock had foreseen, he and Harry had no other occasion to meet each other again.

To Mrs. Weasley's great happiness, and the immense disbelief of Fred and George, Ron was awarded the badge of Head Boy; Hermione got the badge of Head Girl. They were the highest positions a student could reach at Hogwarts. Everyone sincerely congratulated the two of them... everyone except Harry.

When Ron got the Prefect badge at the beginning of fifth year, Harry was jealous of his friend. This time, however, all there was in Harry's heart was a great sense of indifference and apathy.

If the others don't appreciate me for what I am, then it probably means that I'm not worth that much! he kept telling himself.

On September first, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny arrived at King's Cross Station, followed by their usual escort of wizards from the Order. Accompanying them were Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Lupin, and Mrs. Weasley, all dressed as the most eccentric of Muggles. After the farewells and last-minute advice, the group of friends climbed board, giving start to another school year.

Ron and Hermione went to the Head Boy and Girl's carriage to attend their first official meeting. Harry and Ginny found seats at the end of the train, along with Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood.

Harry sat by the window and remained in silence for most of the trip, replying to any question his friends asked him with single-syllable words. On his left, Luna was reading The Quibbler, apparently not noticing Harry's odd behavior. That day, her long, blond hair was styled with three ponytails, and she was wearing a long, multi-color tunic, giving her a rather Hippie-like appearance.

Neville and Ginny were sitting close to each other, across from Harry, occupied with a game of chess. Neville had grown taller during the summer and had lost some weight, though he still had the air of eternal insecurity which was so characteristic of him. Ginny had also grown a little taller, and in beauty, as well. Her long red hair was tied up beautifully in a braid; a light tan made her fair skin golden.

Harry sat there, staring intently out the window, absorbed in the view that was racing by in front of him, oblivious to what was going on around him. On the rack above him, Hedwig was peacefully resting in her cage.

“You cheated again! I saw you this time!” exclaimed Neville, disappointed, after Ginny had won her tenth game.

“You must be joking. You know perfectly well that you can't cheat in wizard's chess.”

“Don't lie. I saw you whispering a spell to your white queen.” Neville turned to Harry. “Didn't you notice it as well? Ginny cheated!”

“W-what? What are you talking about?” stuttered Harry, as if he had only now realized his friends' presence.

“I asked if you noticed that Ginny was cheating.” repeated Neville, this time emphasizing each word. Harry looked at the chess board for a few seconds, trying as hard as he could to gather his thoughts, when suddenly the sliding door opened and everybody turned to see who was there.

A sixteen year old girl was standing at the door; she was extremely thin, with a great volume of curly, black hair, falling messily behind her shoulders, reaching down to her waist. Harry thought that her hair oddly resembled a lion's mane. She had deep, brown eyes and pale skin, and was wearing a Hogwarts uniform trimmed in Gryffindor colors. With one hand, she was dragging along a huge, worn-out trunk and with the other, a large cage containing an old, gray owl that was losing its feathers; it looked like it had been plucked.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you, but… well, the train is incredibly crowded today. May I sit here with you?” the girl asked, pointing at the two empty seats by the door.

“Well, actually…” started Neville, knowing that they were saving those seats for Ron and Hermione; Ginny, however, cut him off.

“Of course you can come in. Our friends won't be back for a while, so you can stay with us while they're away.”

The girl smiled happily, as thought she were hoping for exactly that, and quickly entered the compartment. “Oh, I don't know how to thank you. I was already losing hope.” she said, as she levitated the luggage and cage with a wave of her wand, setting them on an empty shelf near Hedwig's cage. She then took a seat by Ginny's side, throwing her head back in a pretty, almost flirty way to get the long, curly locks of hair off her forehead.

A few minutes of silence followed, punctuated by the fast rattling of the train. Harry turned again to stare out the window, Luna returned to reading her magazine, and Ginny and Neville started to put away the wizard's chess pieces.

Without saying a word, the new arrival took off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the seat. She then conjured a large book of history of magic out of her handbag and set it on her knees, skimming through it. Ginny's and Neville's eyes widened in surprise, but neither objected. Luna, on the other hand, lowered her magazine to just under her nose and turned to the girl with curiosity. “You're new, aren't you? I've never seen you around.”

“Well, I… yes, I'm a new student. How stupid I am. I haven't even introduced myself, have I?” she exclaimed, after a certain hesitation. “My name is Jane, nice to meet you.”

Jane stretched out her right hand to Luna; she didn't shake it and kept staring directly into Jane's eyes without lowering her magazine from her nose. Ginny rescued that embarrassing moment by shaking Jane's hand in Luna's place.

“My name is Ginny Weasley, nice to meet you. She's Luna Lovegood, and they're Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter. So, it looks like this is your first time at Hogwarts. What school did you attend before coming here?” asked Ginny sincerely. Jane, however, looked as if she had not heard a word. In fact, she was still staring intensely at Harry.

“Jane? Are you all right?”

“W-what did you say?” asked Jane, bewildered.

“I asked what school you attended before coming to Hogwarts.”

“Actually, I… I've never attended a school until now,” she replied with a serious expression on her face.

“Wow, that sounds cool,” Neville said with admiration.

“I learned at home. My mother thought me everything she knew. She's a cool witch, even if sometimes…” Jane stopped and a veil of sadness darkened her eyes. “Well… it doesn't matter,” she ended without giving any other explanation.

“How is it possible that you're wearing a Gryffindor uniform already? You haven't already attended a sorting ceremony, have you?” asked Luna, even more curious.

“I did, of course. I attended a private sorting with the Transfiguration teacher. What's her name again? Oh, yes, Professor McGonagall. I had to wear that odd, talking hat, you know? A bit revolting, if you ask me.”

“Honestly… I agree with you,” commented Neville, amused.

“Which year are you in?” asked Ginny, after shooting a glare at the young Longbottom.

“Sixth year. I'm so anxious to start with my classes. It'll be all new for me... attending classes in a school. My favorite subjects are Charms and Potions, but I find History of Magic extremely interesting too. Well... my mother has always stressed that I need more practice with Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but you know how mothers are, don't you? They are always there, ready to push us on our weaknesses. Sometimes, I can hardly stand her.”

During their discussion, Harry remained in silence, pretending to be completely absorbed by the view outside the window, heedless of what was happening around him. Nonetheless, he had been unable to avoid listening to them, noticing with disappointment just how many words the new girl was able to say in one breath. I'd certainly like to use a little Silencing Charm on her right now! he thought, annoyed, as he frowned and watched her out of the corner of his eye.

“I've heard that the Headmaster is quite formidable. I can't wait to get to know him in person. It'll be a great honor for me. I bet the other teachers are pretty good too. I sincerely hope that the Potions teacher will be brilliant.”

“Oh, more than brilliant… you'll see,” exclaimed Neville with a sarcastic note in his voice. For his comment, he earned a strong jab from Ginny's elbow.

“I'm sure you'll find all of our teachers extremely… demanding. They start loading us with lots of homework from day one. But, don't worry. Since we'll be in class together, I'll be happy to help you anytime you need,” Ginny added.

“Well, I'm sure I won't need any help. I'll be able to handle everything on my own.” At this affirmation, spoken with such certainty that it bordered on arrogance, Ginny, Neville, and Luna looked at each other bewildered. Noticing their reactions, Jane immediately explained herself. “I meant… that I'm used to taking care of myself, but I appreciated your offer, really.”

Silence again fell on the compartment. After a few minutes, which Jane passed by staring intensely at her shoe laces, she raised her head and unexpectedly turned to Harry. “I know you! You're the famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived.”

Harry merely frowned at her and didn't reply.

“I can't believe I'm traveling on the Hogwarts Express, sitting so close to the famous Harry Potter. I've read everything about you. It's a great honor for me, I don't know what to say…”

“Fine! Can you do me a favor then?” erupted Harry, thoroughly annoyed. “Shut up and don't say a word for more than five minutes... if you're able to.” He then suddenly stood up, stepped over his friends' legs, and exited the compartment, slamming the sliding door behind him.

Everybody stared at each other openmouthed, not knowing what was going on with him.

“The books I read didn't have anything written that said he had such terrible behavior,” Jane commented as she shrugged her shoulders.

***O***

Albus Dumbledore stood up with a slight rustling of his long blue robes. “Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The Headmaster's deep voice silenced all of the students in the Great Hall, who had been chatting amongst themselves.

“I hope you will be able to make full use of all the knowledge that our excellent teachers will pass on to you in the coming months. Now, more than ever, we need to learn from each other and hold on to the goodness that life still has to offer us.” Dumbledore emphasized the last few words, fixing his intense blue eyes directly onto Harry's who had, in the few minutes before then, been busy trying to concentrate his attention solely on the empty dish in front of him.

“I must make a few announcements. First, I am very sorry to inform you that, due to security measures for the war that are still in effect, we won't be having our usual Quidditch tournament this year.”

A murmur of disapproval rose amongst the students; Professor McGonagall had to raise her voice several times to silence everyone. Once everyone had settled down again, Dumbledore continued with a placid tone.

“I wish also to inform you that the canceled Quidditch tournament will be replaced by a another event, which I hope will keep us all excited. I'm talking about a Academics Tournament. Four teams will be formed, one for each House. Each team will be consist of five sixth and seventh year students, personally selected by Professor Flitwick, our Charms teacher.

“The tournament will consist of five tests, which will be held during the school year. The team that scores the best overall will win. Each test will cover a subject taught here at Hogwarts. We will have tests covering Potions, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, and Care of Magical Creatures. In due time, you will be informed the dates of each test, so that each team will be able to prepare itself. For more details, you may ask Professor McGonagall or Professor Snape.”

Dumbledore stopped briefly; the students started chatting again, excited.

Dumbledore spoke again and the hall became silent once more. “My next new announcement regards our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Unfortunately, our esteemed Professor Lupin won't be able to join us this year. It is for this reason that I wish to welcome another highly qualified teacher, as well as my personal friend. Please give a warm greeting to Professor Magnus Erudio.”

While the students were applauding the new teacher, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other in disbelief. After a few moments, Magnus Erudio emerged from the small staff room behind the teachers' table and slowly, with the support of his wooden staff, reached his seat on the side of Professor Snape, who glared at him with hostility. Erudio remained impassive, with his gaze fixed to the back of the hall.

When the hall became quiet and Dumbledore spoke again, Ron bent closer to the other two, whispering his thoughts on what had just happened. “I suppose now you'll tell us that you knew about that already, Hermione.”

“Not at all. I think we should reconsider our conclusions about Erudio. If Dumbledore wanted him at Hogwarts, he has his own reasons to trust him,” Hermione replied, thoughtful.

“Perhaps you're forgetting something else. From now on, he'll have the right to give or take off points, depending on our behavior. I'm sure that he's already been warned about us three,” added Ron, worried.

Hermione turned to Harry, who had not said a word until then. “What do you think about this?”

Harry replied without taking his eyes away from the teachers' table, where Dumbledore had sat down after his speech and was now sitting close to Erudio. “There's only one reason Magnus Erudio is here at Hogwarts. He's here to watch over me. Years pass by, but Dumbledore still doesn't trust me completely.”

“You shouldn't speak like that, Harry. I'm sure Dumbledore trusts you, it's just that…”

Hermione's words were cut off by the sudden arrival of many food-laden plates on their table. The feast had just started and everyone was busy with turkey legs and roast beef with gravy and many other delicious dishes.

Hermione looked around with a slight grimace of disgust as she saw Ron attacking the nearest plate. “It's better if we continue our conversation later.”

***O***

“If I understand you correctly, you're telling me that you three have lived in the house of our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for a full month?” Neville's alarmed voice barely made it over the deafening noise which filled the common room.

While the majority of Gryffindor students were chatting animatedly, telling each other about their summer adventures, a small group — namely Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean Thomas, and Ginny — were sitting comfortably on large armchairs by the fire.

“Exactly!” replied Ron, happy to be able to share his opinion on the matter. “You can't imagine how strange that Erudio is. Mysterious, fiercely jealous of his secrets in an almost maniacal way, always ready to scold us! In short, a real lunatic!”

“Don't overreact as usual, Ronald,” Hermione scolded. “I remind you that you're talking about one of our teachers, as well as a very good friend of Dumbledore.”

“And may I remind you that until a few hours ago, you were of the same opinion about him?” replied Ron promptly.

Harry didn't intervene in the topic. He had spoken as little as possible for the entire evening, just listening with his gaze lost in space.

After worriedly glancing at him for what seemed like the thousandth time, Hermione decided to end that discussion with Ron. “Instead of blabbering on about silly things, why don't you help me? We should've sent the students to their dormitories half an hour ago. It's late and classes start tomorrow,” she ended, standing up.

Ron made a grimace of displeasure. Though he was proud to be Head Boy, he was not yet used to the idea of enforcing the rules on others, especially those rules he himself hated. He stood up unenthusiastically and joined Hermione.

“Hey guys!” Dean Thomas stopped them, with an excited look in his eyes. “Have you been up to your new rooms already? I wish I was Head Boy, just to be able to have my own bedroom.”

Without waiting for an answer from Ron or Hermione, Ginny spoke. “Charlie and Bill told me that the Heads' rooms are wonderful. Just think about it. Their furniture and decorations change depending on the student who lives there. I can't wait to visit my brother's room.”

“Don't count on it,” replied Ron, annoyed. At his words, Ginny made an disgruntled face.

“I'm sorry Ginny, but Ron is right.” explained Hermione, quietly. “The Heads' rooms are in a restricted area of the castle and nobody has permission to enter them, except the Head Boy and Head Girl, of course. I'll give you a detailed description tomorrow. That should satisfy you.”

“Oh well, never mind...” Ginny replied, resigned. “I should go to bed now, before my horrible brother puts me in detention,” she added sharply, frowning at Ron.

“I'm going as well. Sorry, but I'm exhausted.” Harry suddenly stood up, moved closer to Hermione and smiled slightly at her. “I'll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure you're all right?” she asked in a whisper.

“I'm fine. I'm just tired, don't worry,” he assured her. He then turned to the others and bid them good night, before heading to the staircase.

Once in his dormitory, Harry sighed in relief. He could still hear the indistinct chatting of the other students in the Common Room. He had always been comfortable in the company of his friends. That night, however, he felt out of place, and he couldn't understand why.

He looked around, realizing that nothing had changed in the room: the five canopy beds, the curtains in Gryffindor colors, the wood heater in the center of the room, his trunk already placed at the foot of his bed.

Weakly, Harry walked over to the window and looked outside. Night had fallen several hours earlier. The chimney on Hagrid's hut was billowing thick, gray smoke.

Finally at home, he thought, feeling comforted.

Suddenly, the door opened, causing Harry to jump. He turned abruptly and saw a tall boy standing at the threshold. He had very short, dark hair and clear blue eyes. A few seconds of silence passed, as the new comer and Harry looked at each other puzzled. “I'm sorry to disturb you. Is this the seventh year dorm?” asked the boy, looking at Harry from head to toe.

“That's right,” replied Harry, trying to be as polite as possible, even though he wasn't in the best of moods.

The boy closed the door and moved toward him with his right hand stretched out in front of him. “My name is Theo Mustle. I'm new here. I still need to learn to find my way around.”

Hiding his surprise, Harry moved closer and offered his hand. When they shook hands, something odd happened. Something like an electrical shock traveled through Harry's arm, causing him to move away with a groan of pain.

“Is anything the matter?” asked Theo, staring at him suspiciously.

Harry was still looking at his right hand, not knowing what to make of what had just happened. “Of course not,” he lied, feeling his heart beginning to beat faster.

“Oh, there's my trunk!” Theo observed. Then moved over to the bed that had been Ron's for the past six years. “Not bad, not bad at all, this place. I'm sure I'll feel right at home here. Anyway, you didn't say what your name was, did you?”

Still confused, Harry took a few seconds before replying. “H-Harry, Harry Potter.”

“Nice to meet you Harry!” exclaimed Theo smiling, while taking his black pajamas out of his trunk. “It seems that we're neighbors this year.”

“Yeah, it seem so…” commented Harry unhappily, already regretting the loss of Ron.

***O***

It was a dark night, without stars. In the streets of an unknown city, a glimpse around showed the surrounding worn down houses.

Three dark shadows ran quickly, desperately searching for a way to escape their enemies. In their hearts were fear and terror. At each noise, their adrenaline rose, spurring them to run faster.

Suddenly, the three shadows stopped in a small alley, looking around fearfully. In that moment, an hooded figure appeared behind them, pointing his wand at them. On his arm, the Dark Mark. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

The three shadows turned abruptly to the Death Eater and for a fraction of a second, their hearts stopped beating. It was impossible to see their faces, for they too were hooded. The tallest of the three came forward, right hand gripping a wand.

“Leave us alone!” shouted a woman's voice from under the cloak.

“Give me a reason,” replied the Death Eater, before casting an Unforgivable Curse at her.

The witch defended against the attack, trying to draw the attention of the enemy away from the other two, standing apart from the witch.

The Death Eater and the witch started to battle. Flash of red and purple lights lit the night, hitting the surrounding walls. In the end, the Death Eater prevailed and the witch fell to the ground, disarmed.

Fear, horror, harmless. The Death Eater moved closer to the witch, eager to finish his task.

Suddenly, one of the two other figures, the smallest, ran toward the witch, shouting desperately with a child's voice. “MOTHER!”

Then, a dazzling ray of light, an unbearable pain in the whole body and the vision ended.

“NOOOOO! Leave them alone, you bastard!”

Harry woke up, shouting. His pajamas were sweaty, his scar was aching, and his heart was in turmoil. Panting, he wondered who those people were and why he felt so close to their suffering.

Still in shock, he raised his hand to his forehead, which was burning. He looked around, fearful that he had woken his roommates; fortunately, everybody seemed deep asleep. In instinct, he turned to Ron's bed, and saw that the curtains were closed. This time, his best friend wouldn't be there to comfort him.

Unable to get back to sleep, Harry got out of bed and went over to the window. The moon was still high in the sky and a few gray clouds covered the stars.

What's happening to me? he asked himself. I need figure this out before I go crazy.

Harry remained awake until the first morning lights appeared on the horizon, not realizing that for the entire time, a pair of blue eyes had been watching him from behind Ron's bed curtains.

2

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(A/N: This time, I need to thank one of you in particular. I'm talking about Hermione_Potter_14 since in the past days she's read the whole Prequel, Secrets from the Past, and now has started to read Secrets from the Future. Thanks so much! Thanks to the great help of my BETA reader IronChefOr, here is chapter 9. I can tell you that Harry will find more troubles along his way...)

Chapter 9. JEALOUSY

After a miserable, sleepless night, Harry decided to get ready for the day before everyone else. Dressed, he left the dormitory silently, just as his mates were waking up.

Despite the fact that it was still early, there were already small groups of students in the common room, nervously waiting for the start of classes.

Harry slowly descended the staircase, massaging his head which was aching from the lack of sleep. He then noticed Hermione sitting by the fireplace, reading a large, old book resting on her knees. “Good morning!”

She looked up from her book and greeted him with a large smile. “Harry! I was waiting for you.” She stood up, moved closer and gave him a peck on the cheek. “It looks like you didn't sleep too well last night.”

“No…” he replied, lowering his gaze.

Hermione stared at him gloomily. “Listen, Harry. We need to talk...”

Harry turned away, annoyed. After that horrible night, he still felt too confused and tired to handle a discussion that early in the morning.

“I know that Mark's death has hit you hard, and I can understand if you aren't ready to talk to anyone about it… even to me. But I feel like this is making you sad and I really want to help.”

“Please, Hermione. It's just not the right time to…”

“Well, then tell me when is the right time,” she cut him off, raising her voice. Hermione then realized that everybody had just turned to look at them, so she started whispering. “I can't stand to see you like this and not being able to do anything to help. Something is hurting you and you need to talk with someone about it.”

“A lot of things are hurting me at the moment!” exclaimed Harry, beginning to feel his temper rise. “It's just that… well, I don't know if…”

“You know that you can tell me anything and that I'll listen without judging you. I promise,” Hermione pressed, hoping to get beyond the invisible barrier that Harry had put up between them.

Both looked at each other intensely. Seeing that Hermione was very serious made Harry smile. “All right then. But we'll talk tonight, after dinner.”

“Perfect! Promise me you won't change your mind. It's too important for me... you know that,” she reminded him, feeling more encouraged than before.

***O***

“It is not my intention to hide the great pleasure I feel when I think that th is will be your last year here at Hogwarts...” Professor Snape said silkily, welcoming back to his seventh year students. “Unfortunately, I am unable to forget that there are still many months before we are finally rid of each other.”

Finishing his sentence, Snape looked with distaste at each Gryffindor student, allowing his gaze to linger on Harry and Hermione, who were sitting at the same desk at the back of the classroom. Harry stubbornly returned the stare until Snape moved his attention onto someone else as he started to pace the room. The place looked more gloomy than ever. The dungeons had no windows and were extremely cold, lit only by a few torches hanging from the stone walls.

Just like the previous year, only a few Gryffindor students had been accepted into Advanced Potions. In addition to Harry and Hermione, also in the class were Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and Seamus Finnigan. Ron and the others had to take an alternate course.

On the other hand, all the Slytherins, including Crabbe and Goyle, whose intelligences resembled that of a troll, had been accepted with high marks. This, of course, showed the obvious favoritism of the teacher. Among the Slytherins, young Draco Malfoy was Snape's favorite student. Tall, blonde, with cold gray eyes and a treacherous character like that his father Lucius, he was always in competition with Harry, ever since first year.

That morning, there was a new Gryffindor student in the class. Theo Mustle was sitting next to Seamus, a few desks in front of Harry.

“Now, enough with the friendly greetings.” Snape spoke again, with his usual authoritarian tone. “I remind you that at the end of the year, you'll have to pass the final examination. The O.W.L.s you somehow managed to pass in fifth year could be considered childish by comparison to N.E.W.T.s. That is why I expect the best from each and every one of you, starting today.” Snape pointed his curved nose to each student in turn, arousing a note of uneasiness in them.

“Why don't we start with a quick revision, then? Does anyone remember the effects, or better, the uses of a Blood-Replenishing Potion?”

At his question, everyone looked at each other bewildered, not knowing the answer. Snape had briefly mentioned that potion in one of the last lessons the previous year; no one had even thought to look it up in their books. The only ones to raise their hands were Hermione and Theo.

“Yes, Mr. Mustle?”

“The Blood-Replenishing Potion compensates for lost blood. In order for it to work properly, the wizard in need must take it every hour.”

At Theo's reply, all of the students turned to him, extremely surprised, especially the Gryffindors; the Slytherins were sneering at him, most of all Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Snape didn't object, meaning he could find nothing wrong with the answer. “Can anyone tell me the main ingredients of this potion?”

Once again, Hermione and Theo raised their hands, however Snape turned to someone else this time. “Mr. Potter?”

Harry didn't know much of anything about the Blood-Replenishing Potion, except that Mr. Weasley had to take it while he was at St. Mungo's Hospital while recovering from being bitten by Voldemort's snake. “Uh… Armadillo bile maybe?” He replied, resigned, accustomed to Snape's special treatment.

A satisfied grin appeared in Snape's pale face; Draco sneered in amusement.

“Mr. Mustle?” the teacher called.

“The main ingredients are a third of salamander blood, a third of frog brain, a third of Ashwinder eggs, and a little bit of powdered Graphorn horn,” replied Theo, proudly.

“Well, well, well Mr. Potter. It seems that Mr. Mustle here is more prepared than you, despite the fact that he has joined our class only today,” commented Snape, glaring at Harry intensely. “Five points to Gryffindor for Mr. Mustle's two correct answers. However, I shall have to take ten for Mr. Potter's incompetence.”

Hermione frowned at Snape in disapproval. She couldn't stand any injustice, especially that done in order to hurt or ridicule someone else.

“And now, I want everyone at work. You're to prepare a Blood-Replenishing Potion. You will then leave it in class steep for an entire week. All the necessary ingredients are ready for you,” he said, pointing at the students' cupboard.

Snape sat down at his desk, while the students remained motionless at their seats. “What are you waiting for? I WANT YOU ALL AT WORK, IMMEDIATELY!” shouted Snape; everyone jumped in panic. They stood up at the same time, bumping into each other.

***O***

When Harry entered the Great Hall for lunch, he felt as if his brain was about to explode. The first two hours of Potions had been followed by two hours of Transfiguration, during which Professor McGonagall started with a detailed review of the Inanimatus Conjurus spell.

Harry sat between Ron and Hermione at Gryffindor table and for a while wanted to go lay down on his bed.

“It looks like the new student is really smart. Have you talked to him yet?” Hermione asked as she filled her plate with stew and mashed potatoes.

“We spoke a little last night, but… well, I don't think I like him very much.” Harry replied, wrinkling his nose in displeasure.

“Are you talking about that Theo Mustle?” Ron interrupted into the discussion, after a mouthful of roasted chicken. “He's sitting right there with Neville and Seamus. Why don't you like him?”

“Just a feeling,” Harry replied, unwilling to talk about that strange incident he had when he shook Theo's hand.

Ron stared at Theo across the table, then shrugged his shoulders as he decided to change the subject. “The first day of school is always the worst,” he commented. “But I can take anything if in trade there's something much, much better.”

Harry had the distinct impression that Ron was eager to talk about his new single bedroom; Harry didn't want to disappoint him. “Hey, I'll bet you slept better than okay last night, didn't you?”

“Oh, Harry you won't believe how great my new Head Boy room is!” exclaimed Ron, smiling enthusiastically. “The room is almost as big as our old dormitory and the walls are covered with posters of all of the most famous Quidditch teams in the world. There is a breathtaking view from the window, and there is also a bathroom just for me. I can't believe I'm Head Boy, Harry.”

“Ronald Weasley, you best get off cloud nine and start thinking about your duties instead,” Hermione scolded him. “Don't forget that being Head Boy isn't just about having a single room with a private bathroom, and being trusted by the teachers. Your most important responsibility is to make sure that all of the other students respect the school rules, and also... monitor the students' behavior, patrol the corridors…”

“I know, I know, I KNOW! You don't have to remind me,” Ron huffed, annoyed.

“Now that it's come up, there's something important I need to tell you,” Hermione explained, searching through her school bag. “It's your turn tonight to patrol the corridors. You'll be with Ernie Macmillan,” she added, after reviewing a small sheet of parchment that she had just taken from her bag.

“What did you say?” Ron shouted as he almost fell from his seat. “You must be joking, aren't you? Give me that!” he said shocked, snatching the parchment from Hermione's hands. “Oh no! I completely forgot about this… I can't patrol the corridors tonight. Seriously, I can't.”

“Why not?” asked Hermione, frowning at him.

“Because… because… I've something else to do tonight, that's why,” he replied, feeling uncomfortable. He then looked around warily and added in a whisper, “I'm seeing Luna tonight… Why don't you take my place? Please Hermione. I'll do anything if you take my place.”

“You know I can't!” she replied sternly.

“Please, Hermione, please. You spent a whole month with Harry. Luna and I haven't really seen each other since July.” Ron begged.

Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed. “All right then. I'll take your place, but you owe me one.”

“Anything you want, I promise.” The smile had returned to Ron's face.

“I'll think of something, don't you worry…” she said, throwing a glance at Harry out of the corner of her eyes.

Harry smiled at her in reply. Their attention was then caught by the arrival of the mail. Very quickly, the entire ceiling was covered with grey and white owls, delivering letters and packages as they flew gracefully to their owners.

Even Harry got mail, which seldom happened. One of the school owls, small with gray and black spots, glided right above his head and delivered a small envelope. The stamp on the wax seal was from the Headmaster.

Harry stared at the envelope in his hands for a few seconds, surprised.

“Come on, open it,” Hermione exhorted him; Harry wasted no time.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It is my wish to meet in my office, tonight after dinner, to discuss several very important matters. Please do not be late.

Faithfully yours,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster

“That's perfect!” Hermione exclaimed, after reading the letter over Harry's shoulder. “Dumbledore wants to talk to you, and we were waiting for this, weren't we?”

“I'm sorry. What are so excited about?” asked Ron worriedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes before replying. “Tonight, Harry will be able to share with him our concerns about Erudio, particularly about what Wizzy told Harry. And maybe…” She stopped abruptly, piquing the curiosity of the other two.

“And maybe?” asked Harry.

“I meant, maybe you could also tell him about what's been bothering you. Well… you know…”

“What's been bothering him?” asked Ron, puzzled. Hermione glared at him in response, as if to say “Why don't you shut up?”

Harry didn't know if he could open himself up to Dumbledore, even thought he knew Hermione was right. “I'll think about it...” he whispered, unwilling to tell her no.

“Wonderful!” exclaimed Hermione, satisfied, as she refilled her plate with another serving of stew.

***O***

Dumbledore's office had not changed much in the past few years. The paintings of the previous Headmasters were hanging on the walls... ancient wizards with long, white beards pretending to be asleep while listening to all that was said in there. The shelves were full of dusty books, puffing stills, and other odd magical devices. Albus Dumbledore was sitting at his old, dark wooden desk

Harry found him already there, with his bright blue robe, usual pointed hat, and long silver beard and hair.

“Have a seat, Harry.” The Headmaster indicated towards one of the two small armchairs sitting in front of his desk; Harry obediently sat, feeling oddly nervous.

“Would you like some chamomile tea?” asked the ancient man, conjuring a small tray with a steaming teapot and two cups.

“Thank you, sir,” replied Harry as Dumbledore poured the tea into the cups.

“I've called you here because there is something important I need to ask you,” started the Headmaster, handing a cup to Harry and staring at him intensely from behind his half-moon spectacles. “After the tragic loss of Mark Evans, we haven't had a chance to talk. How are you feeling in this particular moment of your life?”

Harry lowered his gaze, grasping the hot cup firmly. That was the question he feared the most. Certainly, Mark's death had shaken him deeply, but it more than just that. He still had nightmares, and was worried about his future encounter with Voldemort. He feared he was not worthy of such an important role to play. He afraid to fail and become the cause of his beloved ones' unhappiness. At the same time though, he didn't want to show his weakness.

“All of us may go through moments of uncertainty in our life. It's perfectly normal. Are you sure you don't want to tell me anything?” asked Dumbledore, a strange twinkling in his blue eyes.

“Not… not at the moment, sir,” replied Harry after a brief hesitation. Even though he knew that he had to be honest with Dumbledore, he chose to wait a little longer and try to make more sense of everything by himself first.

“Well, I shall have to wait then until you're ready to talk to me.” Dumbledore sighed deeply. “Now, I'd like to explain what I have planned for you this year. You've certainly wondered why Magnus Erudio is here at Hogwarts. You already know that he's a Seer, exactly as you are. That's why I'm deeply convinced that you'll appreciate his help in learning how to control your powers and use them properly.”

Harry shifted in his armchair, feeling uncomfortable; a few drops of hot tea fell on his trousers. “Excuse me, sir, are you sure that…”

“Please, Harry, don't take my decision the wrong way,” Dumbledore cut him off quietly. “Surely you haven't forgotten what happened in July on Privet Drive ? You need to be able to use your powers correctly and, most importantly I think, you need to be able to control your temper.”

“I can assure you that I'm doing my best to control my temper!” exclaimed Harry, disappointed by the Headmaster's lack of trust.

“Unfortunately, in this matter, your best isn't enough. Please Harry, let us guide you. You'll find that Magnus Erudio is an excellent teacher and…”

“There's something I need to tell you about Magnus Erudio.” It was Harry's turn to interrupt. “Last summer something odd happened and… well, something that made me start to think. When Hagrid came for my birthday, Erudio ordered him not to say anything about Mark's condition. He wanted to keep me in the dark about that, right as Mark was dying.”

“You're absolutely right, Harry. I didn't agree with Erudio's decision at the time either. But, you must understand that in his own way, he wanted to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?”

“From suffering, from disappointment. For the same reasons I did my best to keep you in the dark in the past. I'm talking about the prophecy, the truth about your mother being a Seer. Maybe I realized too late how wrong I was.” Dumbledore lowered his gaze. “My behavior has pushed you to make hazardous decisions. It's my fault that the ones you care about have paid with their lives.”

Harry was certain Dumbledore was talking about Sirius Black's death; Harry couldn't blame him for thinking that it was also his fault.

“You are a young man now and are able to face your life with conscience and wisdom, accepting your responsibilities if necessary. For this reason, I know that you'll understand the importance of controlling your faculties. Nobody is perfect, Harry. The important thing is that we are able to accept our limits.”

Harry nodded. Dumbledore's wise words were finally helping him to understand that accepting the help of the others isn't a sign of weakness, but one of maturity.

“Do you… do you trust Magnus Erudio?” asked Harry, still doubtful.

“Completely!” the Headmaster replied, smiling widely.

***O***

Leaving Dumbledore's office, Harry felt much better than when he had entered it an hour earlier. Talking with the Headmaster had helped lighten the heavy weight he had been feeling on his heart.

Walking down one of the long corridors of the school, Harry suddenly felt the full exhaustion of the previous night and full day he had. Massaging his eyes with his hands, he turned a corner and bumped into someone.

“Oops! I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you coming,” he exclaimed, mortified.

“Oh, don't worry. I wasn't watching either,” replied Jane, the girl he met on the train. “I'm so lucky to run into you, Harry Potter. With all of these stairs and corridors, I got completely lost. If you don't help me finding the way, I think I'm going to wander for the whole night.” As she finished talking, she again brushed a lock of curly hair away from her forehead in almost a flirtatious manner.

Harry rolled his eyes, wondering for what unfathomable reason he had to run into her, Jane the chatterbox. He sighed deeply, but did his best to be as polite as possible. “All right, I'll show you the way. Let's go!”

Gryffindor tower was on the seventh floor; they were on the second floor. Harry quickly reached one of the shortcuts he knew, but it seemed that Filch had already sealed it for the night. The shortcut was hidden behind a painting of an ancient warlock with a pirate's eye patch; the painting would not let then through.

“Looks like we take the long way, then,” said Harry, resigned.

“Oh, well, never mind,” exclaimed Jane. “The longer way is often the safer way, or at least, my mum always says so. I usually don't care what she says, actually, but I have to admit that she has been right from time to time.”

Harry desperately wanted to reach his dormitory as quickly as possible. He didn't reply and walked faster.

“Today, we had Charms with Professor Flitwick and you can't imagine how much I enjoyed the lesson. Even though I already knew everything about the topics, I think it's always helpful for a little revision, don't you agree? Ginny Weasley is really good at Charms. With all the answers that she and I gave, we gained about fifty points together. And it's just the first day.”

“Jane, listen to me carefully,” Harry stopped abruptly and stood right in front of her. “I'm happy that your first day has been wonderful. Unfortunately, mine has been extremely difficult, so, please… please, will you try to just shut up until we reach the common room?”

Jane looked extremely offended by Harry's words and turned to look away from him without adding a word. After this “discussion,” they started walking in silence. After two flights of stairs, they started down a dark corridor.

“Lumos!” Harry lit his wand; Jane did the same.

Suddenly, he heard voices and stopped again, putting his hand on Jane's shoulder to stop her also.

“What's wrong now?” she asked, annoyed.

“Shhh. Someone's there,” Harry whispered, then extinguishing his wand and indicating to flatten themselves against the wall.

They waited for a few seconds. Finally, the voices came closer and it was possible to see two shadows slowly walking along the corridor with a lit wand.

“Don't worry, my friend. I spoke to him tonight and I'm sure he understands now the importance of the matter.” It was Dumbledore's voice.

“I know, I know. But I still feel that something bad is still troubling him and that this is just the beginning,” replied Magnus Erudio.

“Trust me, Magnus. I know him better than you do. He'll follow your suggestions. You just need to have a little more faith, that's all.”

“I'll do as you ask, Albus. I'll do everything possible to not be influenced by what I saw. At the point we are at, everything can be still changed.”

Harry was listening attentively, trying to hear every word they were saying. They certainly seemed to be talking about him, but what had Erudio meant when mentioning his visions? Was he talking about the future? Harry shivered.

“What are they talking about?” asked Jane, in a whisper.

“Shhh!” Harry hissed at her.

“Well, I wish you good night, Magnus,” said Dumbledore once they reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“Good night to you, Albus,” replied Erudio, entering and then closing the door behind him. The Headmaster then turned on his heels and left the corridor.

“Let's go, quick!” Harry lit his wand again and ran along the corridor, passing the Defense classroom. In his mind, thousands of ideas were already chasing each other.

“About whom were they talking?” asked Jane, more and more curious.

“No idea,” Harry replied, hastily.

“Anyway, I certainly wouldn't like to be in his shoes!” she exclaimed, deeply concerned.

Harry stopped again and frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I-I mean… I mean…” she stammered, taken by surprise. “I wouldn't like to have all that attention from my teachers on me. I'd feel pressed by a terrible weight and I'd feel trapped, that's all. Of course, being one of the best students wouldn't be bad either, but I'd rather just be number two and have a quieter life.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Harry felt an awkward sensation inside and for the first time since he had met her, he realized that maybe this girl wasn't just some stupid little girl.

Suddenly, Harry and Jane were dazzled by a very strong light and had to cover their eyes with their hands.

“Aha! Caught! Two sweethearts out walking this late at ni...”

“HARRY?” Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

The blinding light lowered and the four teens stared at each others for a few seconds, their mouths open in surprise. On one side were Harry and Jane, Harry standing in front of her in a hidden corner of the corridor. On the other side were Hermione and Ernie Macmillan with their shining Head Girl and prefect badges attached to their robes, wands lit at full power.

“What are you doing here?” asked Hermione, bewildered.

Harry raised his eyebrows, wishing to find himself anywhere else, very far from there. “I was… we were going back to the common room.”

“Oh, we see that. Perhaps Hermione wanted to know what you're doing here with another girl... who is not her.” Ernie pointed out, smiling maliciously.

“Ernie, please!” Hermione scolded him, feeling her temper beginning to rise.

“Hey, listen to me. Your boyfriend and I weren't doing anything bad,” Jane interjected herself into the conversation, frowning at Hermione.

“Did anyone ask your opinion?” shouted Hermione, looking her over from head to toe.

“Girls, please! You don't have to…” Harry's clumsy attempt to make peace was brusquely cut off by Hermione.

“Harry James Potter, I will talk to you later.” Finishing her sentence, Hermione turned on her heels and walked away as quickly as she could.

“Well, Harry, I'm sorry to say this, but… you've really done it this time,” commented Ernie, deeply sorry for him.

“I didn't do anything at all!” shouted Harry exasperated, before running after his girlfriend. “Hermione, HERMIONE! Please wait!” Shortly, he was at her side; he stretched out his hand and gripped her by the arm, making her turn to face him.

“Would you please tell me what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Do you really want to know what's wrong?” Hermione was forcing herself to remain calm, though she was feeling a painful knot in her throat. “I'm so disappointed with you, Harry. I thought you were with Dumbledore. But on the contrary, I caught you walking hand in hand with another girl. Is this the big secret that's been tormenting you?”

“Hand in hand? You must be joking!” he exclaimed, horrified by that accusation. “I just met Jane by chance while I was going back to the common room and she asked me to show her the way, that's all.”

“JANE? Tell me, when did you become friends with JANE?” Hermione insisted with tears in her eyes.

Harry felt deeply confused. It looked like anything he said was just the wrong thing to say. He desperately tried to think of something more reasonable to solve the problem and chose the harder way. “I won't stand here, listening to your absurd accusations. We should just go to bed now. Tomorrow morning, we'll talk quietly about this.”

“Very well. If that's how you want to solve problems, it's fine by me. Good night and sleep well!” After finishing, Hermione ran upstairs; this time Harry didn't follow her.

Feeling the anger rising inside, he clenched his fists and violently beat them against the stone walls, hurting himself. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm down, thinking that the better thing to do was wait until the following morning and explain to Hermione his version what happened.

Why are girls so difficult to understand? he kept asking himself on his way to Gryffindor tower.

1

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(A/N: A big thanks goes to Hermione_Potter_14 and Destroyerdt, since they seem the only two persons following the story so far. Thanks so much. I also would like to thank IronChefOr for hir great help as BETA reader. Last chapter we've left Harry and Hermione in an awkward situation, but troubles are just at the beginning...)

Chapter 10. ULTIMATUM FROM HELL

That night, Harry hadn't been able to fall asleep very easily, even though his roommates had been deep asleep for several hours. Despite the fact he was incredibly tired, he kept tossing and turning in his bed, thinking over that day's events. His first school day, his meeting with Dumbledore, the misunderstanding with Hermione.

That had been the first time he'd ever seen her jealous. Harry strongly hoped that talking with her the next day, they would easily be able to solve the problem.

Cradled by this hopeful thought, he finally felt his eyelids become heavy, until he relaxed completely and fell asleep. Hermione appeared in a dream. She was standing in front of him frowning, her arms crossed.

“I would have NEVER expected something like that from you, Harry. Wandering around the castle at night, hand in hand with another GIRL!”

“We weren't doing anything bad, I swear,” Harry tried to justify himself.

“This is the secret you were hiding from me, isn't it? Tell the truth!”

“I told you the truth. I'm sorry, I didn't want to hurt you…” Harry felt absolutely terrible. More than anything, the thought of losing Hermione was becoming unbearable.

Then, the image changed and Harry found himself again walking along a dark, desolate street. After a while, three hooded figures emerged from a dark alley and started running toward him, making him relive the nightmare of the previous night. The running escape, the Death Eater's arrival, the duel between the Death Eater and the witch, the desperate shouting of a little girl, and then a dazzling beam of light.

Harry woke up abruptly, sweating, his scar throbbing. What is this nightmare? Who are those people? he asked himself as he felt his heart beating violently in his chest.

Unfortunately, nobody would be able to answer his questions that night. Resigned, he lay back down on the bed, doing his best to calm down, hoping that the sunrise would come as quickly as possible.

***O***

The following morning, Harry reached the common room with no thoughts other than to resolve his misunderstanding with Hermione. His head was still throbbing from to the lack of sleep and the pain in his scar. Not finding her among the crowd of students, he rushed out of the portrait hole to the corridor, and down toward the Great Hall.

Still immersed in his thoughts, he walked quickly, dragging his school bag along and bumping into other students along the way. At the bottom of the last flight of stairs, directly in front of the large hourglasses filled with colored gems marking Houses' points, he realized that someone else was waiting for him.

“Look who's coming,” mocked Malfoy, showing a pleased grin as he leaned with his back against the stone walls. Crabbe and Goyle were standing on his sides like two large gorillas. “You always need to be in the center of attention, don't you Potter? The school year hasn't even started yet, and everybody is already talking about you and your nocturnal escapades.”

Harry shot him an icy glare as he passed by. “Shut up, Malfoy. And look who's calling the kettle black,” whispered Harry through clenched teeth.

“Oh, I'm so scared. What're you going to do if I don't shut up?” continued Malfoy. Seeing that Harry wasn't reacting to his provocations, but instead kept walking, he shouted one last taunt. “Run away little girl! Know that this year, you'll get what you deserve, once and for all.”

With something more important on his mind, Harry ignored Malfoy's words and entered the Great Hall looking for Hermione. When he saw her sitting at Gryffindor table close to Ron, his heart did a somersault. Here we are, he thought nervously, moving closer in slow steps. Unconsciously, he brought his hand to his neck and tightly grasped the jade amulet Hermione gave him for his birthday.

Ron shot a quick glance at Harry and understood immediately. “There you are mate. Now I… well, I need to go…” he stuttered, standing up. “I've forgotten... upstairs... my… my… one of my books. See you later.”

Hermione commented on his sudden departure with only a raised eyebrow, while stubbornly skimming the new Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook open on the table, Advanced Defensive Magic: a Practical Guide by Ashley Protector. Harry sat by her side, desperately searching for the right words with which to begin, despite the fact his throat was dry and it seemed impossible to utter even a sound. He had just opened his mouth to speak when Hermione turned to him abruptly with a serious look.

“I need to apologize, Harry,” she started, leaving him speechless. “I've thought about this all night and I realized that my reaction yesterday was too rash. I handled the situation in a superficial way, without even giving you a chance to explain.”

Harry was caught by surprise and kept looking at her with wide eyes.

“I trust you, Harry. After all, you and that girl weren't doing anything wrong.”

“We weren't,” he agreed.

“It's just that, well… I knew there was something you were hiding from me and I've tried so many times to figure out what was troubling you that… well, last night I thought that maybe I was the problem.”

“Don't you dare saying anything like that again!” replied Harry, horrified. “It's true. I have a troubled life, but if I didn't have you in my life, I… I…” Not able to find the right words, Harry grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his hands. “If I didn't have you, I wouldn't be able to go on.”

Hermione smiled and sweetly brushed his cheek with her fingers. “You know, I'll always be with you, whenever you need me. And I'll be there to listen to you, any time.”

They stared at each other for several moments. Harry wondered if it was the right time to talk. He knew that he could trust Hermione blindly, and that he needed to be completely honest with her. He lowered his gaze, almost ashamed about what he was going to say.

“Well, I-I don't exactly know what's happening to me. The only thing I'm sure of is that I can't do this alone.” He again raised his gaze and met Hermione's, full of anxiety. “I'm scared. Yeah, it's true... The Boy Who Lived, the one who's supposed to fight against the Dark Lord and win.”

Hermione sighed deeply, her eyes now full of comprehension. “Everybody fears something, Harry. Even those who live a quieter life and have no troubles at all. You don't need to be ashamed of…”

“It isn't death I'm afraid of,” he cut her off. “I'm scared to lose the one I love. And the worst thing about it is that… HE knows.”

Silence fell between them. This time, even Hermione wasn't able to find comforting words.

Suddenly, Harry grimaced in pain and raised a hand to his scar.

“What's wrong?” whispered Hermione, alarmed.

“Hi, Potter,” Theo Mustle greeted as he approached. He was now staring at Harry with an awkward expression in his blue eyes. “I-I just wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

Still disoriented from the pain, it took Harry a few seconds to realize what Theo was talking about. “W-what do you mean?”

“Potions. I was so enthusiastic to answer correctly, I let Professor Snape mistreat you.” Theo seemed sincerely sorry.

“Don't worry. I'm accustomed to Snape's behavior by now. It isn't your fault,” replied Harry, removing his hand from his forehead, even though his scar was hurting more than ever.

“Anyway, next time I'll be careful. I don't like to be used to make fun of someone else.” Finishing his sentence, Theo turned his attention to Hermione, who had been listening to them in silence. “Hey, aren't you going introduce me to your girlfriend? My name is Theo Mustle.”

Hermione smiled slightly, even though she was still worried about Harry. “I'm Hermione.”

“Nice to meet you, Hermione.” Theo smiled too, but then he looked nervously at the sky outside the window. “I'd love to stay here and chat, but I need to go now. I want to find a desk in the front row for Professor Erudio's lesson. See you later in class.”

Harry and Hermione stared at the boy as he quickly moved away and exited the Great Hall. He was dragging along a heavy, black leather school bag, overflowing with more books than Hermione could have ever dreamed of squeezing into her own school bag.

“I think you've found your new competition, Hermione. Ahhhh!” Harry raised his hand to his scar once again.

“Let's go to the hospital wing,” urged Hermione. “You won't be able to attend any classes today.”

“Do you really think that Madam Pomfrey will be able to help me?” whispered Harry sarcastically. He then stood up and threw his school bag over his shoulder. “Don't worry, I'll be fine. Let's go or we'll be late.”

“As stubborn as Ron sometimes...” Hermione commented to herself in a whisper, following Harry out of the Great Hall.

***O***

“I'm happy to welcome you to my Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It is a great privilege and honor for me to be your teacher this year.” Magnus Erudio greeted the students in a very formal tone, as he sat at his desk at the front of the classroom. He was wearing a long purple robe and his usual odd hat in the shape of a bent horn. His eyes were staring blankly at some indistinct place in front of him; the tip of his long gray beard was almost touching the floor.

Once again, the classroom had was decorated to reflect the new teacher; this happened each year, since there had been a different teacher every year. This year, the walls and the shelves were full of clocks of every different type and shape; their rhythmic ticking filled the air. Harry was, as usual, sitting with Hermione, in one of the last desks in the back; he was desperately trying to pay attention as the pain in his scar seemed to not want to stop.

A group of Slytherin students were following the lesson as well. Among them, Draco Malfoy was glaring at Erudio with hostility, sitting in the second row with his housemate Theodore Nott.

“We will learn how to use the most important defensive spells and to understand in which situations they are most useful. We will spend most of our time practicing, until we are ready for what is waiting for us… out there.” Erudio stopped talking; most of the students shot nervous glances at each other. “It is perfectly normal to fear the worst. However, being prepared to fight is more useful, don't you agree?”

In the icy silence that followed his words, a hand rose uncertainly in the air.

“Mr. Finnigan, am I right?” asked Erudio, his blind gaze still fixed in space.

“Y-yes, sir,” Seamus replied, almost whispering. “I was just wondering, sir… well, me mam always says that it's not our job to fight... that we should leave it to more skilled adult wizards. Do you… do you really believe that we will need to…”

“Your mother is right, Mr. Finnigan. It isn't your job or duty to fight against Death Eaters. But it is also true that you need to learn how to defend yourself, in case your life is in danger. During the school year, we will practice every kind of allowed defensive technique, until each one of you - nobody excluded - is able to effectively react to any kind of dark magic attack.”

Ron, Neville, and Dean looked enthusiastic about the idea and sat up straight in their chairs to listen more attentively; Lavender, Parvati, and the other girls — except Hermione, who didn't blink — looked rather doubtful. Harry, on the other hand, had not been able to follow Erudio's speech. With his elbows propped up on his desk, he kept pressing his hands against his forehead, as if to try to stop his brain from throbbing painfully.

“Before we start with this year's program, I need the help of two students for a practical demonstration of what you've already learned these last few years. Mr. Potter, Mr. Mustle, if you would be kind enough to come forward, please?”

Hearing his name, Harry did his best to gather his strength and sighed deeply, feeling feverish. Under Hermione's worried stare, he slowly stood up and approached the teacher's desk. Theo was already waiting for him, standing there, taller and looking even stronger than Harry.

“Very well!” exclaimed Erudio, leaning back in his chair, as if anticipating something extremely interesting. “I would like you to show the class an example of a magical duel. I warn you: only legal attacks. You may start any time.”

The two boys stood in front of each other, grasping their wands like swords. They pointed them at each other for a few seconds, waiting. Harry's scar was still hurting unbearably. For a brief moment, he even considered stopping the duel and leaving the classroom for the hospital wing, following Hermione's suggestion. Theo, however, made the first move.

“CONJUNCTIVITUS!” A ray of white light erupted from his wand and flashed toward Harry, who used the Shield Charm.

“PROTEGO!” The ray of light rebounded back to Theo, who jumped out of the way to avoid being hit. “TARANTALLEGRA!” shouted Harry and a ray of violet light rushed from his wand toward Theo, who promptly reacted.

“IMPEDIMENTA!”

Harry and Theo kept staring at each other in silence, pacing the room under the watchful eyes of their classmates and Professor Erudio. Harry had to admit that Theo was very skilled at casting curses.

“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” This time, Harry attacked first. Caught by surprise, Theo didn't have time to defend himself and flattened himself to the floor to avoid the ray of red light that shot out from Harry's wand; it hit a stone column, scratching it.

Suddenly, Harry felt a sharp pain in his scar and raised a hand to his forehead, groaning. Not noticing Harry's difficulty, Theo shot another curse while still laying down on the floor. “STUPEFY!”

The curse hit Harry directly in the chest; everybody watched the scene as if it was in slow motion. For a fraction of a second, the jade amulet around Harry's neck glowed green and emitted a shining aura that enveloped his body and deflected the curse to one of the empty desks in the first row, destroying it (everyone in the front had moved back when the duel began to increase in intensity). Despite the amulet's protection, Harry was thrown against the shelves behind him, hitting his head violently.

A general turmoil ensued. Hermione rushed toward him, followed by Ron and the other students. Harry could only hear indistinct, blurred voices. Then, a dark veil fell over his eyes as he lost consciousness.

***O***

When Harry woke up, he found himself wrapped in darkness, laying on a slab of concrete. Above him, the night sky was lit by frequent red lightning bolts. Around him, emptiness... nothing. He slowly got up and looked around. Something about this place worried him greatly. He took a few steps, then heard a voice. More precisely, it was a sort of a moan or cry.

“Who are you?” he asked, alarmed. “WHO ARE YOU?” he shouted, but not reply came.

The moan became stronger; it sounded as though it was coming from everywhere. Harry had to cover his ears and close his eyes, as the sound was driving him crazy. Then, it suddenly stopped and he opened his eyes again. A short distance away, there was someone huddled on the ground, hooded and covered with a dark cloak.

Harry approached cautiously. “Do you… do you need help? I heard you crying.”

“I-I'm so scared…” replied the trembling voice of a little girl.

“Of what?” asked Harry, feeling uneasy. “Can you tell me?”

“The evil wizard. He… he killed my father, and now he's hunting me,” she explained sadly. Her face was still hooded.

Harry looked around, wary, but there wasn't another living soul aside from the two of them. If the evil wizard she was talking about was still there, they had to leave that place immediately.

“Do you know a way out of here?” At Harry's question, the little girl shook her head. “Don't worry, we'll find one together. Come on, I'll help you stand up.”

Harry stretched a hand out toward her, and she finally lifted her head. Their eyes met for the first time. Small and minute, her face was framed by a mane of black hair and her eyes were deep and jade green. Harry was amazed by those beautiful eyes; he felt as if he had already seen them, somewhere else.

Suddenly, the wind started to blow strongly. The little girl covered her eyes with her hands and shouted between sobs. “He's coming! He's coming!”

Harry didn't have time to react as everything around him changed. The little girl was gone. A blood-chilling scene had taken her place now. Houses were on fire. Hundreds of people were running away, crying and shouting, their faces covered in blood. Then, a voice overpowered all the others... a voice Harry knew all too well.

“You're wondering what the future will be like, aren't you Harry? Here it is. This is the future that is waiting for you and your friends. A future of war, suffering, and death.”

“No… it can't be true. I won't let it happen!” he shouted, looking in every direction, trying to find him.

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, my dear Harry. No one will stand in the way of my plans. And when this war ends, I will bring order to everything. I, Lord Voldemort, incontrovertible master of this world.”

“You're insane!” shouted Harry in disgust.

“I believe the crazy person here is you, Harry. Do you really think you have any chance against me? As the prophecy says, one of us will die at the hand of the other. Certainly, the one who will die is you, my silly, pathetically unskilled boy. But you still have a choice. Yes, there is always a choice… If you stand by my side, I'll grant you your own life as well as that of your friend. Be careful, as this is your last chance. This is the last time I'll show you any compassion. Accept now... otherwise, meet your destiny...”

“NEVER! I'll never join you. I'll fight you until the end!” shouted Harry. His voice was firm and determined, his eyes fixed on the horrible sights before him.

“Very well. You made your choice.” Voldemort's voice wavered slightly in disappointment. “If that is what you really want… then DIE!”

“Aaaahhhh!” Harry woke up from his dream, screaming. His body was tensed from the unbearable pain he was experiencing. Rising a hand to his forehead, he felt something warm and wet on his face. Blood was trickling out of his scar.

“Harry? Harry?” The placid voice of Albus Dumbledore brought him back to reality. “Everything is all right, you're safe now.”

Harry was trembling from head to toe as the Headmaster helped him settle back into his bed. They were in the hospital wing. The tepid afternoon sun still lit the room with its golden rays. Harry looked around, panting. The other beds were empty; Madam Pomfrey watched the two of them from her desk near the entrance.

“Where… how…” stuttered Harry, trying to gather his thoughts.

“You hit your head badly during the Defense practice this morning. You passed out and woke up just now,” Dumbledore explained, staring at him with a kind expression in his blue eyes and a reassuring smile on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused…” Harry replied, brushing his aching head. Then their eyes met. For a few seconds, they stayed there, in silence. Harry knew that the Headmaster was waiting for something. Maybe he knows what I'm hiding from him, Harry thought.

Harry turned his gaze and fixed it onto the blue sky outside the window. He recalled the nightmare he just had. The little girl crying, huddled on the ground, the images of destruction and death, Voldemort's words. He knew that it was the right time to tell Dumbledore what he was going through. He had opened his mouth to speak when he suddenly heard the sound of footsteps in the corridor.

The door opened abruptly, and Severus Snape appeared. His face was livid and grave.

“Bad news, Severus?” asked Dumbledore, frowning.

Snape shot a malevolent glare at Harry before replying. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“I'm coming,” replied the Headmaster worriedly. He then turned to Harry. “I'm sorry, but I need to go. Your friends are waiting outside and I'm sure they'll keep you in good company.”

Dumbledore moved toward the door when Harry called him back. “Sir, there is something I need to tell you.”

The Headmaster turned to him again. “Go on, I'm listening.”

Harry looked at Snape, hoping that he wasn't going to interrupt him. “I'm… I'm still having nightmares,” he started, uncertain of what to say next. “I'm hearing Voldemort's voice. He wants me to join him. He says that if I don't do what he wants... it'll be the end... for me... and my friends.”

Dumbledore remained still, an odd twinkling in his eyes; Harry felt encouraged to go on. “I'm not scared to die. If this is my destiny, then I'm going to die on a battlefield. But I don't want innocent people to pay for my mistakes.”

“In war, there will always be innocent people who pay for the mistakes made by others.” The Headmaster then sighed deeply. A tired and sad expression appeared in his eyes. “You've done a wise thing, Harry, talking to me about your nightmares. Voldemort is trying to destroy your will to fight. You need to stay on guard from his mind attacks. When you feel better, you'll start your training with Professor Erudio. He'll help you, I promise. Now, I must go, but we can talk again when I return.”

Harry nodded. Dumbledore then joined Snape and they both left the hospital wing, closing the door behind them. Even though Harry had not been able to explain in detail what his nightmares were about exactly, simply having mentioned them made him feel better.

The door opened again, and Ron's, Hermione's, Ginny's, and Neville's heads peeked in.

“What is all this ruckus out here?” Madam Pomfrey scolded the new arrivals. After a certain insistence from their side, she agreed to let them in, though only for a few minutes.

Ginny and Neville took a seat on a nearby bed as Ron chose an old, wooden armchair. Hermione stood close to Harry, keeping a worried eye on him, as if expecting him to pass out at any moment.

“Don't worry, I'm fine,” insisted Harry, smiling slightly.

“When that Theo Mustle threw you against that bloody wall, I just wanted to go up there and punch him in his stupid, ugly face,” ranted Ron, shaking his fist in midair, mimicing the act. “He was so stupid to not realize that you were in trouble. Only an idiot couldn't have seen that!”

“Maybe you're right, but honestly, I'm sure it would've been better not to accept the duel in the first place,” replied Harry, resigned. “It's all this damned scar's fault,” complained Harry, vigorously brushing his forehead, as if trying to erase that unlucky mark in a lightning bolt shape.

“Well, the most important thing is that you're feeling better,” started Neville. “If you ask me, Theo doesn't seem too bad. He's okay, and always ready to help others… at least with homework.”

“Of course!” joked Ron. “Next time you need help, I'll tell him to send you a stunning curse from me. Have you seen how he poses? Mr. Know-it-all! Oh, didn't mean to offend those present…”

Harry saw Hermione frowning at Ron, and realized that she was doing her best to not answer him back.

“Someone told me that Jane Porter and Theo Mustle are friends,” Ginny intervened in the discussion. “Apparently, they come from the same town and have known each other since they were small children. Anyway, I like Jane, she seems okay too, to me,” she ended with a shrug.

“Shall we stop the gossiping? We're here for Harry, aren't we?” Hermione scolded them, deeply annoyed. “By the way, don't you think that my amulet worked perfectly?”

Harry put a hand under his collar and took out the tiny jade pendant. “Are you serious?” he asked, doubtful.

“Didn't any of you notice it? When the curse was cast, the amulet gave off a protective aura that diverted the hit,” Hermione explained.

“Tell me then why Harry was thrown across the classroom all the same?”

“Ronald Weasley, I'll have you know that if the curse hadn't been diverted, the consequences could've been worse than a simple blow to the head. What if it hadn't been just a simple stunner?”

Harry sighed. All the bickering had caused his headache to return, so he chose to change the topic. “Did you notice Snape's odd behavior? He entered the hospital wing looking angry, and Dumbledore followed him right away.”

“We saw him coming, yeah, but we didn't hear anything at all.”

“I'm afraid something bad has happened. My scar has hurt since this morning…” explained Harry, skipping the details about the vision he just had.

“Well, if anything has happened, we won't have to wait long to find out about it,” whispered Hermione, indicating towards the door with a slight nod of her head. When everybody turned, they saw professor McGonagall staring at them from the threshold. On her tired face, an expression of pain and resignation.

5

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(A/N: Hi there! This time I need to thank more people than usual. My dear readers who have left a review, like FuzzyFurball, Sandra and Destroyerdrt. A big thank you goese to IronChefOr for his great help in editing the chapters. Here is chapter 11. I hope you'll enjoy!)

Chapter 11. CONSPIRATORS IN THE SHADOWS

The sun had almost set, its last rays of light filtered through the tall windows of the castle. Harry was slowly walking along a dark corridor, on his way to Magnus Erudio's office. His head down and his hands in his pockets, he felt his heart squeezed by the huge boulder that had been dropped on him.

The previous evening, while he was still in the hospital wing with his friends, Professor McGonagall came to bring Neville horrible news. A group of Death Eaters had attacked Longbottom Manor; his grandmother had been killed. Without providing many details about why the Death Eaters chose Mrs. Longbottom as a target, their teacher added that other wizards had also lost their lives. Members from the Order of the Phoenix, including Emmeline Vance and Elphias Doge, fought courageously to protect Mrs. Longbottom. In the end however, their efforts were in vain as they too fell.

Neville reacted with unexpected composure. Without saying a word, he followed Professor McGonagall out of the hospital wing. A few hours later, he left Hogwarts to return to his family house and take care of all that needed to be done.

With Madam Pomfrey's permission, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower that same evening. He spent the night awake in the common room, along with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, and Seamus. None of them wanted to go to bed after what had just happened. Theo Mustle approached the group and tried to apologize for the accident during Erudio's class; Harry dismissed him with a quick “It's all right, don't worry,” spoken with no energy.

The following morning, most of the students were in poor mood. The news about Neville's grandmother spread quickly, making everyone feeling uneasy... everyone, that is, except Draco Malfoy and his crew, who kept taunting Harry whenever they met him, mimicking his collapse repeatedly.

Harry finally reached Erudio's office. He stopped in front of the door and knocked twice.

“Come in!”

Harry silently entered the classroom and closed the door. The warlock was waiting for him, sitting at his desk. The annoying ticking of the hundreds of clocks hanging on the walls filled the air.

“Please, take a seat,” Erudio ordered; Harry obeyed.

“Before our lesson begins, I need to talk to you briefly,” started Erudio. His eyes were unfixed on some indistinct point at the back of the room. Though Harry was giving him his complete attention, he still couldn't leave his sadness behind.

“Your accident during class yesterday... well, it was all my fault,” Erudio confessed placidly.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“I knew that you weren't at the best of your ability, but I called your name for the duel, just the same.” Erudio looked almost proud of it. “Please, don't misunderstand. I didn't want you to get injured. I just wanted to test you.”

“Test me?” asked Harry in disbelief.

“Yes, test you. I wanted to see if you were able to close your mind and leave the pain behind.”

After a moment of surprise, Harry laughed nervously. “I bet I disappointed you.”

“I can't deny that I was expecting a better effort on your side, but it's nothing we won't be able to improve during our training.” Erudio smiled; Harry had the feeling he was making fool of him. “I know that you're facing one of the hardest periods in your life. Am I right?”

Harry swayed his gaze. I don't want my mind to always be an open book to him, he thought, irritated.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Erudio insisted.

“It seems I don't need to! You already seem to know everything about me, don't you?”

Erudio's smile widened even more. “Let me tell you then what I know about you, or better yet, what I've guessed by analyzing your actions and moods. I have the impression that you're feeling... how shall I say it... somehow left hanging, suspended... precariously balanced.”

Harry didn't reply, but turned to stare at the warlock with deep attention. He now wanted to see where this conversation was leading.

“Yes, you understood right, my boy. You're precariously balanced on a precipice and you're terribly afraid of falling down. If we consider the chasm below to be something evil, we can view the edge where you're standing now to be your salvation, the light, the good in yourself. The trouble here is not to just remain on the edge, but to also not get dragged down below to where your enemy is waiting for you.”

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. “I'm sorry, sir, but you're terribly wrong.”

“You're scared, Harry. You can't hide that from me. You fear to discover that you and your enemy are equals. Am I right?”

Silence fell between them. Harry finally realized that Erudio had guessed correctly. Too tired to hide his feelings and wanting to be helped, he chose to let the mask fall. “I'm still having these awful nightmares,” he confessed after a deep sigh. “I watch myself transform into Voldemort. I hear his hateful voice telling me that he's going to kill all of my friends. He wants me to join him.”

“The image of Voldemort reminds you that both of you have faced the same difficulties in life,” Erudio interjected. “You're both orphans who grew up amongst Muggles, without the love of a true family. There are, of course, several things that make you different from him, starting with the only thing that Lord Voldemort will never posses. I'm talking about your heart and your love.”

“Tom Riddle was a solitary boy; he had no friends. Also, he always sought to impose his will and force everyone else to obey him, even employing extremely harsh methods.. He always felt as though he was the chosen one, the only one able to finally bring order to the magical world, forcing Muggles and half-bloods under his will.. He hoped to follow Salazar Slytherin's path in this way.”

Harry wasn't sure if the warlock was reading or influencing his mind, but with each word, it was as if all of the wounds on his heart were slowly being healed, and the weights were being lifted.

“You, on the other hand, are a very compassionate and generous person. People will never follow you out of fear, but in respect,” said Erudio. “Being scared is human. It would be against nature to not be scared. But I would like you to try to turn your attention away from this and concentrate on what we can actually do to improve our abilities. And this is exactly what we're going to do now. Are you agreeable if we go on to something more practical?”

“Yes, I am,” replied Harry, smiling at him thankfully.

“Then what are we waiting for? Come on, stand up and come to the center of the room,” Erudio exhorted him. “By now, certainly you're able to summon the elements at will. Now, we'll try to control them. You won't need... this!” With a slight movement of his hand, the warlock summoned Harry's wand, which was tucked inside his uniform. After a quick flight through the air, it landed softly on the teacher's desk.

With a second wave of his hand, Erudio conjured four small glass bottles that started to shimmer in the middle of the room. Each of them was filled with a different substance. The first one was filled with dancing flames. In the second one, there was a small amount of water that was churning as if in a sea storm. Contained within the third one was a tiny, twisting whirlwind. Finally, in the fourth bottle, a piece of earth was breaking apart and reassembling itself repeatedly, as if being rocked by a miniature earthquake.

“When the bottles open, the four universal elements will release their power. It'll be up to you to control them. For today, Aqua, Aere, and Ignis will be enough.”

At Harry's alarmed expression, Erudio added, “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll know how to handle them.”

After another slight movement of Erudio's hand, the tops of the first three bottles opened, one after the other. Aere came out first, a small tornado that started to grow faster and faster, soon reaching the ceiling. Then Aqua emerged, taking the form of a whirlpool rotating at great speed, swallowing everything in its path: wall clocks, chairs, desks, and candles.

Finally, Ignis came out. First, a few sparks shot out, then long, hot flames shattered the bottle and spilled out onto the floor, growing around Harry.

Erudio remained still, sitting at his desk with an amused expression on his face while Harry stared at the three elements around him, astonished and worried. His heart began to beat furiously in his chest; his panic was slowly gaining the upper hand.

Recalling his training with Hermione the previous year, he closed his eyes and did his best to concentrate, even though it seemed to be the most difficult thing to do at that moment. With a deafening noise, the air and water whirls smashed into one another, creating a huge, violent vortex of air and water.

Use your brain, use your brain! Harry kept repeating to himself. Think, think!

“Don't get confused. Try to solve one problem at a time,” Erudio suggested, with an almost unnatural quietness in his voice.

Solve one problem at a time, Harry repeated to himself, nervously. An idea then came into his mind. I could put the fire out with the water, but I need to separate the air and water first, he thought. He then stretched his arms out toward the elements and pronounced the magical words with great determination. “AQUA EMANATUM!”

The vortex of water separated itself from the whirlwind, though they were still spinning at great speed next to each other.

Very good, Harry! Now make the water put out the fire. The word is MOTUM! Coming from seemingly nowhere, Erudio's words echoed in Harry's mind. Harry turned toward the warlock and he saw him smiling, satisfied.

Concentrating his attention on the elements again, he tried to send his command using all of his will power. He then pronounced the magical word. “MOTUM!”

The vortex of water started to move forward, but then it began to move dangerously toward him. “MOTUM!” Harry repeated, starting to lose strength. As with all of the other times he had used these powers, he quickly began to feel weaker and weaker.

The whirlpool was now extremely close to him; he could feel the spray of the spinning water on his face. It would surely consume him shortly. His heart was beating furiously and his legs were about to give in, but Harry didn't move.

Panting heavily, Harry repeated the incantation a third time. “MOTUM!” Finally, the whirlpool changed direction at the last moment, directing itself toward the fire. When they met, the two elements appeared to struggle against each other for a few seconds, as if neither wanted to succumb to the other. In the end however, they finally canceled each other out.

Exhausted, Harry fell to his knees. The miniature tornado was still spinning in the room, but he no longer had enough strength to affect it.

Still panting to catch his breath, Harry turned to Erudio, who raised his right arm toward the whirlwind, making it disappear with a loud PUFF!

“Excellent! Excellent my boy. With a little more training, you'll soon be able to control the elements without losing your strength. I think that we can end the lesson here for tonight.”

Harry slowly stood up and limped slightly to the desk. “I wouldn't have been able to do it without your help.”

“Oh, not at all! I sent you the telepathic message, but I wasn't even sure if you'd be able to receive it, considering your lack of concentration. On the contrary, you've done extremely well.”

“Yeah... even though I don't know how I did it,” commented Harry, in a whisper.

Pretending not to have heard his last comment, Erudio went on. “Tomorrow morning in class, we will start learning how to use non-verbal spells. As homework, I'd like to suggest that you exercise your mind. When you're with other people, try to concentrate and send them telepathic messages, as I did with you tonight. The lesson is finished, Harry. I wish you a peaceful night.”

Not allowing time for additional questions, Erudio raised his hand and the door opened. To Harry, it was clear that their time tonight was over.

***O***

The first month of school passed by extremely quickly. Between classes, homework, and tryouts for the Academics Tournament, the sixth and seventh year students barely had time to eat their meals.

As Erudio had said to Harry, during the subsequent Defense classes, the students began learning how to cast non-verbal spells. They had to do their best to not speak the incantations, but rather only think them. The result was that during the practical trainings, everyone remained in silence. Their eyes were closed and their faces red from their efforts to cast spells without saying a single word. In the beginning it was a complete disaster.

Lavender Brown, for example, had tried several times to cast a non-verbal stunning spell at Parvati Patil. The only result she was able to obtain was to shove the tip of her wand into Seamus Finnigan's eye. Harry also certainly found it difficulty in the beginning. By the end of the month though, he was able to cast a decent Jelly-Legs Jinx at Ron with only a whisper.

The only person who didn't seem to have any problem was Theo Mustle. He was able to perfectly cast non-verbal jinxes and hexes from the beginning, and without any apparent effort. Very quickly, Erudio put him in charge of checking on the other students during their training, much to the indignation of Ron and endless envy from Hermione.

Even Professor McGonagall began stressing upon her students non-verbal magic. After almost three weeks spent on the Portus spell to change an object into a Portkey, she started into human transfiguration. At the end of each class, someone always seemed to come out with multicolored hair or an unusually shaped nose.

Professor Snape barreled forward with his program like a runaway train; only a few of the students were really able to keep up with him. He started a new topic almost every lesson. After the Blood-Replenishing Potion, they moved on to the Blood-Reducing Potion (an antidote for the Blood-Replenishing Potion); from the Strengthening Solution they quickly moved on to the Weakening Potion.

Professor Flitwick was quickly becoming more and more busy with the organization of the Tournament, even during classes, much to the great disappointment of Hermione and contentment of Ron and Harry.

“Now we'll never be able to complete all of the coursework for our N.E.W.T. examinations!” she complained on a Thursday morning, frowning at the Charms teacher from her desk in the last row.

Professor Flitwick was standing on his desk looking rather uneasy. He was surrounded by a group of large Ravenclaw boys who were trying to get him to admit them to the Tournament. Charms classes had become very crowded recently. The fact that Professor Flitwick was the one in charge of selecting the students for the Tournament had made him extremely popular.

“Why don't you just enjoy this free time instead? After all, the year has only just started. We still have plenty of time to prepare for our N.E.W.T.s,” replied Ron, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms over his head.

Hermione frowned at him in silence before turning to her book, A Charm for Every Wizard; A Wizard for Every Charm, by Agnes Mirabilis.

Harry smiled slightly; his gaze then landed on the desk were Neville used to sit. His smile faded away. It had been a month and his friend had still not returned to school. Professor McGonagall informed them that he'd been busy with organizing the funeral, then dealing with the Manor and all of his family's belongings.

Harry was sure Neville was feeling extremely down for that whole time and needed his friends by his side, instead of having to face all those troubles alone.

The day of the Transfiguration Task finally arrived. It was the first Saturday of October and all of the students were excited for the upcoming event.

The competition was scheduled to take place in the afternoon. The Hogsmeade weekends had been canceled for security reasons, and so that morning, all of the students chose to walk out in the gardens or along the lake to enjoy the soft warmth of the autumn sun.

After having briefly considered spending the whole morning in the common room finishing their homework, Harry and Ron decided to leave their books behind and enjoy a little bit of rest. Luna joined them for breakfast; together, they planned to pay a visit to Hagrid.

Hermione was delayed by her Head Girl duties, but she told them she'd meet them in front of the castle. Waiting for her arrival, Harry, Ron, and Luna watched a group of students who were sitting by the lake, chatting happily with each other and eating Cauldron Cakes.

“... and then I told him that it wasn't my fault that using jinx detectors during the Defense task was forbidden! Those are the rules and I am not the wizard who made them,” explained Ron animatedly as he held his right arm tightly around Luna's waist. Her large blue eyes were fixed intently on him in deep adoration.

“That Thomas Sullivan just wanted to see if you were thick enough to allow him to bring them in. He kept hanging around you like he was your best mate, ever since the date of the second task was announced,” Harry emphasized, passing his hand through his ruffled hair. “By the way, the Defense task is going to take place at the beginning of December, isn't it?”

Ron nodded; a large smile appeared on his face. A few days earlier, Professor Flitwick appointed him head of the Gryffindor team, making him feel extremely proud. Since then, he'd constantly talked about the Tournament, about how the tasks were going to be tough and how Flitwick was counting on him for the organization.

Despite Ron's insistence, Harry had politely declined his offer to be part of the team. He had more important things to think about during that time. Aside from school matters, he also had training with Erudio once a week. And there remained the fact that he still wasn't able to sleep through the night due to his reoccurring nightmares, which often made him feel irritable.

“His father is a vampire.”

Harry and Ron turned abruptly toward Luna, who'd thrown that statement out there as if making a comment on the weather.

“Well, yes... Mr. Lovegood did publish an article about vampires recently, but what's the connection to Thomas Sullivan?” asked Ron, vaguely.

“Actually, Dad knows the Sullivan family very well,” Luna continued with an extremely serious expression on her face. “They deal in Floo powder, you know? They produce the powder exploiting the work of foreign goblins held in captivity. Dad asked Mr. Sullivan to give him an interview, but he refused to do it.”

Harry chose not to comment. It was suddenly clear to him why Luna's father had insinuated that Mr. Sullivan was a vampire. Honestly, he couldn't blame Mr. Sullivan for not giving the interview; Mr. Lovegood's magazine, The Quibbler, didn't have the most solid of reputations in the wizarding world.

“Here I am! I'm sorry, but Mr. Filch kept us until just now.” The ringing voice of Hermione made them turn toward the main entrance, from where she was coming in a hurry. “You can't imagine what happened last night. Whoever did it, they've really gone way too far this time. It's unforgivable!”

“What happened?” asked Harry, stretching out his hand to hold Hermione's as they slowly headed toward Hagrid's hut.

“We followed Mr. Filch to the Owlery and found a horribly disgusting scene. The floor was covered in blood... all those poor creatures were lying there, dead!”

“What are you talking about? Who would've killed all the school owls?” asked Ron, grimacing in disgust.

“Thank goodness I sent Hedwig to London two days ago with a letter for Fred and George.” Harry commented, sighing in relief.

“There's something more,” added Hermione, lowering her voice. “They also kidnapped Mrs. Norris. Filch is extremely worried. I wouldn't like to be in his place.”

“This is definitely something only a vampire would do. If I were you, I'd ask Thomas Sullivan,” Luna said resolutely.

Harry and Ron did their best not to burst into laugher. They turned to face away from Luna toward the Forbidden Forest. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Here we are, at last! But the door is open...”

The four of them looked for Hagrid in the garden near the hut, but there was no trace of him. Then, after a good half hour, they saw him coming out of the forest, almost breathless, his clothes dusty. Fang ran toward them, obviously excited to see them.

“Hi there yeh lot! Thought yeh'd fergot'n yehr ol' frien' Hagrid!” the half giant greeted them with a large smile behind his thick black beard. He appeared to be in a very good mood.

“Hi Hagrid! Hi Fang.” Harry petted the dog, who was doing his best to reach Harry's ears with his long wet tongue. “I'm sorry, but we've been really busy with...”

“Homework! Yeah, I know. Yeh don' need ter tell me.” Hagrid opened the door and they all went in. “Take a seat. Tea'll be ready in a minute.”

Everyone sat around the large table as Hagrid set four huge cups in front of them. “Thrilled abou' the tournament?”

“Are you already planning something for the Care of Magical Creatures task?” asked Hermione, looking extremely interested.

“Well, I... o' course! Tha's why I was ou' there in the forest. But this time I won' tell yeh nothin'. I swear,” he promised, looking nervous.

“Let me guess. Is it going to be something that involves dragons or Blast-Ended Skrewts?” Ron couldn't hide his curiosity which was mixed with worry.

“I said tha' I won' tell yeh anything an' I won'!” Hagrid finished, pouring tea into the cups. “Yeh should know tha', Ron. When they give yeh such responsibili'ies, yeh need ter keep yehr mouth shut.”

“All right, then. But we're all friends here. You could at least give me a hint...”

“Speaking of tasks, Ron” Harry cut him off, thinking it best to change the topic, “Which student did you select for this afternoon?”

Luna suddenly spoke up with a note of disappointment in her voice. “Oh, well, it would have been nice to compete for the Transfiguration task, but Professor Flitwick chose Padma Patil instead. I doubt I could do it any better than she could... after all, all they really have to do is transfigure a few glass jars into furry little balls.”

“You mean crystal vases into Puffeskins,” Ron corrected her, not realizing Luna had intentionally selected different words to express how simple she thought the task was. Ron then continued, drawing attention back to himself. “As for Gryffindor, I admit it's been very difficult to find a good champion. I've seen several very good people who wanted to try. I even considered Ginny for, you know, a second or two, but in the end, I chose the best one. It's that new girl, Jane Porter.”

When Harry heard the name, he felt his tea going down the wrong way and began coughing as his drink spilled out of his cup and onto the table.

“Hey, hey, don' die right'n frontta us, Harry!” Hagrid gave him a strong slap on the shoulder; if the table wasn't there to stop him, he probably would've been knocked against the wall in front of him.

“Thanks, Hagrid. I'm fine,” Harry whispered as soon as he regained his breath. He shrank back when he saw the furious look in Hermione's eyes.

“Yeah, she's just arrived here at school, but believe me, she's really good,” added Ron, as if nothing had just happened. “She can cast non-verbal spells just like an adult and she... What?” he asked abruptly, when he finally noticed that Hermione was frowning at Harry.

“Nothing!” she replied annoyed, without swaying her gaze from Harry.

“Jane Porter is that girl who was out with Harry that night, isn't she? The one who made Hermione jealous?” Luna's comment let fall an embarrassing silence.

Hermione kept frowning at Harry; he returned her stare resolutely, trying to send her message through his thoughts. We weren't doing anything bad that night. I thought we'd settled all that, remember?

Ron cleared his throat nervously, trying to think of something clever to say to break the silence; Luna watched the scene, captivated.

“Why don' we stop talkin' `bout the tournament?” suggested Hagrid, rubbing his hands together anxiously. “Hey Harry! I thought tha' yeh couldn' wait ter see it!”

“See what?” asked Hermione, still frowning at Harry.

“What? You didn' tell yehr frien's?” Hagrid looked extremely surprised.

“Tell us what?” Now it was Ron who was frowning at Harry.

“Sirius's motorbike, yehr birthday presen'. I thought yeh were happy abou' that. Come on, come on! I'll show yeh. She's a real jewel.”

Hagrid lead them out to backside of his hut. There was a ramshackle wall covered by wooden boards, large stones, and old ragged cloth sacks. The half-giant up lifted up all the debris without any effort; from underneath it all appeared an old, dusty motorbike. It was big and could easily seat three people. Beneath all the rust, the once metallic black iron parts could still be seen. On the front, the glass lens of the large silver headlight was broken; the rubber of the tires had begun to break down from years of exposure and disuse.

“So? Whadda yeh think, Harry? Isn't she beau'iful?” asked Hagrid proudly. “She jus' needs a good cleanin', and she'll be good as new.”

Until that moment, Harry had been very excited by the idea of owning his own motorbike. Seeing it in such a sad state however dampened his excitement, almost to the point of feeling disappointed. Despite that, he made sure not to say anything to that effect for fear of hurting his friend Hagrid. “Well, unfortunately, I don't think it'll be too easy bring it back exactly as new... but, with a new coat of paint and new set of wheels...”

“New set of wheels? NEW SET OF WHEELS?” roared Hagrid in amusement. “Whadda yeh need wheels fer if yeh can fly?”

“Wow, this is so cool,” commented Ron, gently caressing the dusty seat in admiration. “Sirius must've modified it with magic, just like Dad did with our old Ford Anglia. Please Harry, can I ride it when it's ready? After you, of course.”

“I'm sorry to interrupt your daydreaming boys, but I don't think that either of you would be able to ride this motorbike,” Hermione pointed out, folding her arms across her chest. “It would be misuse of a Muggle artifact. Besides, Harry would need a magical driving license and a written permission form the Department of Magical Transportation anyway.”

“Sure, sure. Yeh'll need ter do everything prop'rly, Harry,” Hagrid agreed, hurriedly. “Yeh'll see, Remus'll take care o' this an'...”

“Damn it, Hermione, why do you always have to be a spoilsport?” shouted Ron, cutting Hagrid off. “After all, Dumbledore has already given his permission, hasn't he? What's wrong in riding the motorbike once in a while?”

Hermione pursed her lips together. “FINE! Do as you want, like you always do. I'm tired of being the one to tell you what to do. But if something bad happens, don't come crying to me about it.” She then turned on her heel and stormed back to the castle in a fury, leaving the others speechless.

Harry didn't know if he should be angry with her or not. He wasn't doing anything bad, after all. The motorbike was just his birthday present.

“She just needs to calm down a bit. Don't worry.” Ron comforted him with a pat on the shoulder.

“Well, jealousy makes silly jokes sometimes,” commented Luna oddly, nodding.

Harry realized that Hermione's anger probably had absolutely nothing to do with Sirius's motorbike, and everything to do with Jane Porter.

***O***

In the afternoon, the whole school followed the tournament's first task with great interest. A huge hall in the castle had been configured into a large maze. The four house champions had one hour to make their way through it and face the many obstacles placed in there by Professor McGonagall.

The Gryffindor students were excitedly supporting their champion. They'd even made several large, colorful banners, with “GO JANE, YOU'RE OUR GIRL!” written on them.

Only five minutes after it started, Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin was the first to be knocked out of the task. A small army of extremely angry, biting Doxies had overwhelmed her. To overcome this obstacle, she need only have simply transfigured the Doxies into tiny statues, just as the other three competitors had done perfectly.

With about a half hour to go, Susan Bones from Hufflepuff also had to withdraw. She did as she was supposed to when she transfigured a marble statue into a flying creature and attempted make it fly up to the ceiling to gather a series of small golden trophies hanging from the chandeliers. Unfortunately, her decision to change the statue into a small spitfire dragon turned into a disaster. Her dragon decided chase after her instead, setting her hair on fire.

Jane and Padma had been at each other's heels until the last moment; each of them was holding a small leather bag containing all the trophies they'd collected along the way. They were neck and neck; whoever reached the finish first would win the task.

The entire audience's attention was set on Jane and Padma. Suddenly, a few step from the finish, Jane pointed her wand at her opponent and before everyone's eyes, Padma disappeared in a puff of black smoke. Jane reached the finish and won.

In the general confusion, Professor McGonagall rushed to her, followed by the other teachers, to verify the legitimacy of the results. When Jane explained that she'd transfigured Padma into a toad, the situation seemed settled.

Despite Professor Snape's objection (it was his opinion that Jane should be disqualified for her dishonorable tactic), Professor McGonagall decided that it was merely a perfect demonstration of a successful human transfiguration, nothing more, nothing less. A few hours later, Padma Patil was found hiding in the dungeons after an exhaustive search; she was promptly returned to normal.

That evening, everyone in the Gryffindor common room was celebrating with butterbeer and firewhisky-filled chocolates. The banners used during the task were hanging from the walls. Ron was sitting in the center of the room, surrounded by a large group of girls with whom he was discussing every slightest detail about the task; they were congratulating him for choosing Jane instead of Ginny.

A large group of boys was crowded around the armchair where Jane was sitting. It appeared as though she had suddenly become the heroine of the school, the only one worthy for them to fancy. In the beginning, Jane seemed extremely pleased by all the attention she was getting. As the long hours began to pass by though, she soon became bored with this. Several times during the evening, Harry saw her stand up and look over the tops of her housemates' heads, looking for someone.

For his part, Harry spent the evening sitting in a far corner of the common room with Ginny, observing the scene absentmindedly as he sipped his butterbeer. Hermione had already gone up to her room, or at least Harry assumed she did, for they had not seen each other since their little disagreement at Hagrid's. He wasn't sure if she'd even attended the task.

Maybe if Ginny was in Jane's place in the tournament, she'd have acted differently, he wondered to himself, sure that Hermione was still angry with him and Jane, even though he didn't know why.

“Really! I don't know why we're celebrating as if nothing has happened out there. Neville is all alone in that huge mansion of his,” said Ginny, deeply frustrated. She had spent the whole evening talking about Neville, seeking Harry's support and assurances.

As he listened vaguely to her, he occasionally replied tiredly with a “Yeah, of course” or a “I agree with you.” Even though he was concerned for Neville as well, Harry still had his own troubles to think about.

“We wrote to each other recently. He said he still didn't know when he'd be able to come back to school. He misses all of us so much,” Ginny finished, sighing deeply. After a few minutes of silence, she suddenly stood up from her armchair, her face full of excitement. “Why don't we go and pay him a visit?”

“I wish we could. Did you forget that the school year just started?” Harry replied resigned, stretching his legs out on a small table, trying to get more comfortable in his armchair.

“We could ask Dumbledore for special permission. Just a few hours... to see if he's okay. Neville's house is not that far from here.”

For the next half hour, Ginny made several different plans to try to arrange it, the only result being to give Harry a terrible headache. When most of the students finally left the room, Ginny also decided it was time to go to bed.

Finally alone, Harry took advantage of the quietness; there were only Ron, Jane, and a few sixth and seventh years left. He slowly moved toward the stairs leading to the boys' dorms.

“Harry, please wait a minute,” Jane called after him as she rushed up the stairs.

He stopped on the landing, not sure if he was happy or annoyed to see her. “Great job,” he said, trying to be polite. “I couldn't have done any better, really.”

“Well, thanks. It was just luck,” she replied, staring intensely at him with her deep brown eyes. More ruffled than ever, her long dark hair fell over her shoulders. Her red cheeks contrasted with her snow-like skin. “How... how's it going with your girlfriend? I hope she didn't give you too hard a time after last night.”

“What? Oh, no, no, it's... everything's all right. Don't worry,” he hurriedly replied, feeling an odd pang in his stomach as he lied.

“I've heard that you're a great Quidditch player... or at least that's what everybody says,” Jane said, looking extremely nervous as changed the subject. “I've never played before, but it'd be great if you could teach me sometime... I mean, when you have a bit of spare time.”

“Well, I...” Harry stuttered as he thought frantically. He would have given anything to be able to go out and play Quidditch again. Doing it with Jane however would have meant even more trouble with Hermione. “I'm sorry but... actually, I'm really busy with homework, you know? Why don't you ask someone else? I'm sure that lots of students would be happy to teach you.”

The smile on Jane's face disappeared. “Yeah... you're right... homework...”

Harry's attention was drawn by Theo Mustle who was standing at the bottom of the staircase, frowning at the two of them.

“I'm sorry, but I need to go now. I'll see you around, then.” Harry moved away, feeling awkward.

“No, please. Wait a minute!” Jane called him again and he turned to face her. “Please, I hope you don't think I'm being too forward, but...” she said, trailing off as she started playing with the pleats in her dress, her embarrassment obvious.

“I'd like to... I would really like to... to get to know you better, to become your friend. Please believe me. It'd mean so much to me.” Jane's cheeks looked redder than ever.

Harry stared her with his mouth open in deep surprise from her words. Does she fancy me? Is she only interested in my name? he wondered, getting suspicious.

“Hem, hem.”

Theo cleared his throat loudly; Jane jumped in place. He slowly walked upstairs and joined them on the landing. “Hi Jane. Harry, good to see you. I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I haven't congratulated our new champion yet. You did a great job during the task, Jane. I'm very impressed.”

Jane frowned at him, looking disappointed. Harry on the other hand, felt suddenly relieved. He was grateful Theo interrupted them; that whole exchange was quickly becoming way too uncomfortable for him.

“May I steal our new golden girl for a few minutes, Harry?” As he asked, Theo wrapped an arm around Jane's waist, pulling her downstairs with him.

“We'll talk about it later, then. Good night, Harry,” she called, looking back over Theo's shoulder. She appeared as though she would've rather remained up there with him.

Harry frowned at the sight of the two of them and followed them with his eyes until they reached two chairs in a corner of the room. They sat down and started to whisper to each other in what appeared to be a very serious discussion.

Those two are up to something, he thought, feeling concerned. He then slowly retired to his room, shaking his head.

***O***

Once they were finally alone in the common room, Theo and Jane sat next to each other on the sofa in front at the fireplace. In the silence of the night, only their low voices and the crackling of the fire could be heard.

“I told you it would be useless! Now, all you've managed to do is push him away from you even more,” Theo scolded her, in a whisper.

“Your idea wasn't any better than mine!” Jane replied in an accusatory tone.

“You just ran up to him, asking to be his friend. It's insane!”

“What was so wrong with it? I had to start somewhere,” Jane huffed as she stretched out on the sofa. Theo was still staring at the flames, frowning.

“We have to find the right way to do this. We don't have much time left,” he said, sounding resigned.

“If I just could gain his trust,” said Jane, lost in thought. “Tell me again what's going on in your classes. Maybe we could find something useful there.”

Theo got more comfortable on the sofa before speaking. “Let me think for a second... During classes, Harry always seems so quiet. Hermione never takes her eyes off the teacher. Ronald,” Theo said, rolling his eyes, “is his usual lazy self.” He placed great emphasis on his last few words, recalling with distaste the studious habits of the redhead. “I still can't believe they named him Head Boy!”

“What about Malfoy?” Jane asked with a serious expression on her face. “Don't tell me they're good friends, because I'd never believe you.”

“Oh, not at all. On the contrary, Harry and Draco always seem to be ready for a fight, for one reason or another.” Theo sat silently for a few seconds and then stood up abruptly, as if he just suddenly had a brilliant idea. “Of course! We could use their animosity towards each other to our own advantage.”

“That's true, Theo!” exclaimed Jane. “And I already have an idea that would fit into that perfectly. We just need to get Harry and Draco together in the same place. I'll take care of the rest. It'll have to be in the right place, of course, and at the right time, and...”

“How do you plan on getting them to meet in the right place and at the right time? The castle is huge, not even counting all the secret passageways, and the gardens, and...”

“I'll use the Marauders' Map,” replied Jane promptly with an odd sparkle into her eyes.

“Do you mind telling me where you found that?” asked Theo, almost scolding her.

“I just forced one of Mum's secret drawers and then...”

“YOU WHAT?!”

“Shhhh! Do you want everybody to wake up?” Jane shushed him, alarmed.

“You've always been a little crazy, but this is too much. You do know what you're risking now, don't you?”

Jane nodded in silence. A veil of deep worry appeared over her eyes.

“Are you going to tell me what you've got in mind, or am I going to have to wait to find out afterwards?” asked Theo, looking at her sternly.

“Let me figure out a few things first. Don't worry, everything will be all right.”

“Who's worrying? It's just our future that's in danger,” replied Theo sarcastically. “I'll see Erudio tomorrow. Shall I mention anything to him?”

“Sure you can,” Jane said, then stopped, thinking it over for a moment. “Just, please... don't tell him about the Marauders' Map. I'm sure he won't be happy about that.”

“All right, then. But I want you to know that whatever we end up doing, it will be extremely risky. I'm not even sure that it'll work very well since...”

“Oh, don't be so pessimistic!” Jane cut him off. “The only thing we can do is try and hope. Hope is all we have left,” she added bitterly.

Once silence again filled the room, Jane stretched her hand out toward the fireplace. With a loud fwoomp, the fire extinguished itself and darkness enveloped the common room.

1

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(A/N: Wow, so many reviews!!! I wish to thank you all for taking the time of reading my story, especially thoose who have left a comment, like LadyLara_001, HermionePotter14, Destroyerdrt, DjjClub. I also need to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr for his great job! Now, relax and enjoy the reading. Bye for now, Petronilla.)

Chapter 12. THE MIRRORS OF THE SOUL

The sun was setting behind the hill. The shadows of the evening began to stretch out along the deserted street, casting grotesque images on the worn out asphalt. A short figure covered by a dark cloak sped up, looking around warily. The buildings lining the street were so dirty and decrepit that they had to have been uninhabited, and yet behind the ramshackle windows, the presence of curious eyes could be felt.

The small girl knew she had to get home before dark, lest the worst should happen. She had, however, dwelled too long in the fields. Under her cloak, she was jealously guarding a bag containing a few mandrake roots that she had found with great effort.

Suddenly she stopped, jumping in place in fear. She felt her heart begin to beat faster in her chest; her forehead was starting to sweat. Someone was following her.

“Stop where you are!” an insolent voice echoed from the silence as a group of boys slowly came from behind a corner and stood around her in semi-circle. They wore dark cloaks and were grinning in amusement “It's a little late to be walking around, don't you think?”

The boy who had just spoken was standing in front of the others. He was the only one holding a wand. Locks of blond hair fell from under his hood; his glare was cold.

The small girl lowered her gaze, tightening the grip on the bag in her hands.

“I'm talking to you, you filthy little mudblood!” Speaking with arrogance, the blond boy moved toward her and lifted her chin with the tip of his wand, to better watch her reaction. The girl stared at him without showing any fear. Her eyes were emerald green and filled with pride.

The boy recognized her; his face lit with an devilish smile.

“Look at who we've got here. I thought I already told you that people like you aren't allowed out after curfew. I don't like mudbloods who don't follow the rules.”

“Let's teach her a lesson, Chris!” suggested one of them, flexing his fingers in eagerness. He was short and fat, and his face was all covered with freckles.

“Yeah, let's have some fun.”

“We haven't done anything in such a long time. Come on, Chris!”

All of the others were getting excited as well. They all seemed eager to teach the unlucky girl a lesson.

The blond boy, Chris, glared at the girl from head to toe, still pointing his wand at her. “I'm feeling generous today, so I'll give you a chance. As you can see, my friends would really like to enjoy themselves with you, but if you choose to kneel down in front of me and beg for mercy, then I could consider the possibility of letting you go.”

The girl remained in silence, still staring directly into the boy's eyes as if challenging him.

“What do you think? You need only kneel in front of me and beg me to let you go. It really isn't that difficult, after all.” Chris laughed cruelly as his friends did the same.

“I'd rather die than beg for my life!” The girl spoke with deep disgust. Suddenly the boys stopped laughing. The street fell again into an icy silence.

Chris narrowed his eyes, looking furiously at her. “How dare you, insolent mudblood! I'll teach you how to behave.”

The blond boy had just raised his wand to cast a spell at her when a ray of red light flew in from between the other boys and hit him square in the back, throwing him against one of the buildings.

The small girl looked up, searching for her rescuer. A boy, the same age as the others, was standing at the corner of a dark alley, his wand pointed at them. He was tall and slim, with long hair. His eyes, which the small girl recognized easily, were filled with anger as they glared at Chris, who was still lying on the ground unconscious.

“If you want to have fun with someone, then have fun with me!” His challenge spoken with such energy, none of the other boys had the courage to act. The new arrival turned his eyes toward the girl. He gestured for her to quickly come over to him. Both disappeared into the alley as the others stood there speechless.

KABOOM!

The rumble of thunder woke Harry up, cutting him off from his dreams. He propped himself up on his elbows on his pillow, then sat up on the bed. Outside the window, it was raining furiously, the crash of thunder and lightning non-stop.

In a now automatic move, Harry raised a hand to his forehead, brushing his scar which curiously wasn't hurting this time. Forcing himself to remember as many details as possible about the dream, he wondered who was that little girl with the green eyes. Why had he been having these strange dreams since the beginning of the school year?

Each time, it was like diving inside a Pensieve, witnessing someone else's memories as a helpless bystander. Scenes of everyday life from this little girl, about ten years old, played out in front of his eyes. They weren't happy or carefree memories. From what Harry had seen, this girl was living in some sort of ghetto. She had to endure every kind of teasing and humiliation from the older boys, who evidently were more fortunate than her for some reason.

Exactly where or when this was all happening was still a mystery to Harry. The one positive thing was that these strange dreams seemed to have nothing in common with his others nightmares about Voldemort, other than the fact that both were causing him on a daily basis to be tired during the day.

KABOOM!

Another deafening rumble brought him back to reality. Harry rested his head back on the pillow and stared at the nearby bed. It was empty; the bed was still made. It had to have been very late, and Theo had still not come back yet. This wasn't the first time this had happened. What the hell is he doing this late at night? Harry wondered.

A quiet noise outside the door attracted his attention. Harry closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep. He could hear someone enter the dormitory and close the door behind him. After a few footsteps and the rustling of blankets, there was silence again.

Harry slowly opened his eyes. A sudden lightning bolt lit the nearby bed, in which Theo was now lying, looking as though he was asleep and had been there all along.

***O***

When Harry reached the common room the following morning, the sun was already up and most of the students were out on the grounds. Last night's thunderstorm seemed to be just a distant nightmare, even though the ground was wet and muddy.

“Hey, I've been waiting for you for ages!” Ron exclaimed as he saw Harry descending the stairs. He was sitting by himself at a small square table with a chessboard in front of him. The game he was playing was almost at the end. “Ha! Checkmate!”

Ron's black queen smashed the white king, spreading broken pieces all over the board. Harry sat down in a large armchair in front of him. “It's easy to win when you play against the chessboard!”

“Are you kidding?! I've had to fight the entire time to defeat the white pieces. When you play alone, the chessboard gives everything it's got. You should know that by now,” Ron explained, gathering the pieces.

Just then, the portrait hole opened and a boisterous group of third year girls entered the common room, chatting animatedly amongst themselves as they climbed to the girls' dormitories. Harry looked around nervously. “Have you seen Hermione?” he asked Ron.

“Sorry mate, she wasn't even at breakfast this morning. By the way, do you think that she'll get upset if we work on Sirius's motorbike later?”

“I don't know. She's been so nervous lately. Everything I do seems to be wrong for her.”

Ron lowered his voice and whispered. “Well, I really hope that she isn't in a bad mood today, because here she comes.”

Hermione had just entered the common room, her arms filled with several large, dusty books. When she saw the two boys, she frowned at them.

“Here you are, at last!” she exclaimed, dropping the books onto the table heavily. “I'm proud to see how busy you are with studying so early in the morning,” she added, teasing them.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Ron replied, slightly annoyed. “It seems you've tried to steal the entire library.”

“I only checked out the bare essentials for the Potions essay and the Charms project, that's all. I suggest you do the same, if you don't want to fail the end of term examinations,” ended Hermione, frowning at Harry.

“Please don't look at me like that. I just got here, and I have every intention of doing my homework,” he replied, on the defensive. “Why don't you tell me where you were last night? I didn't see you at all.”

“I was really tired and went to bed early,” Hermione replied, swaying her gaze from him.

“Too bad. You missed a really good task, and the party wasn't that bad either,” Ron pointed out, stretching his arms over his head, yawning.

“Are you feeling better today?” asked Harry in concern.

Hermione folded her arms and stared angrily at him, as if she was waiting for that question. “Why are you asking?”

Harry was puzzled. “Because... because I care about you.”

“Well if you really did, why didn't you come and ask if I was okay?”

“Because I can't even get to the damned Head Girl's room! No one has permission to enter them except you, remember?” replied Harry, thinking Hermione's implications absurd.

“Maybe you had something, or someone, else on your mind? If you really wanted to find me, I'm sure you could've figured out a way!”

“Hey, wait a minute!” exclaimed Harry, feeling his temper rising. “What are you on about? I didn't have anything else on my mind.”

“Don't lie to me, Harry James Potter!”

“Why don't you stop it for a second, guys?” shouted Ron, trying to stop them.

In reply, Hermione turned on her heel and rushed toward the staircase without adding a word.

Harry didn't want to let it drop there, as he had the previous day. He stood up and followed her. “You're being unfair, Hermione! I'm sorry if I didn't look for you yesterday, but I thought that maybe... well, maybe you wanted to be left alone, to think things over. I don't know, you've just been so nervous in the last few days.”

Hermione remained in silence, keeping her back to him. Harry slowly moved toward her, softening his voice. “If you need to talk, if there's something that's hurting you, I'm always ready to listen. You know that, don't you?” He set his hand on her shoulder; she jumped in place, hurriedly wiping the tears from her face with her sleeves.

Harry realized that she was crying and was deeply affected by this. He hadn't expected such a reaction from her.

“Please, Harry, leave me alone,” she whispered. “Just leave me alone,” she repeated, before rushing upstairs and disappearing behind the girls' dormitory door.

***O***

For the entire next week, Harry kept wondering the reason for Hermione's odd behavior. She stubbornly avoided him during classes. Afterwards even, she rushed to close herself up in her room.

Harry had taken to the habit of stopping Ginny in the corridors and asking her a barrage of questions. Unfortunately, she also did not seem to know what was bothering Hermione.

Friday morning just before classes, Harry and Ron were waiting for Ginny in front of the Defense classroom. The previous evening, she had promised them that she would try to talk to Hermione to find out what was the matter.

“Why isn't she coming?” asked Harry, nervously staring at his watch. “She should've been here half an hour ago.”

“Why don't you just talk to Hermione?” Ron suggested as he took a bite of the large red apple he was holding in his right hand.

“I've already tried to talk to her,” Harry replied, annoyed. “But every time I go up to her, she does everything she can to disappear into the crowd. My only hope is Ginny. Oh, here she comes.”

Ginny ran toward them, and then stopped to catch her breath. “Sorry, I'm late... Is Hermione already in there?” she asked, looking around.

“Yeah, she went in five minutes ago, with Lavender. Those two have become inseparable like twins lately!” Harry complained, frowning as he looked inside the classroom. “Any news?”

“Nothing, I'm afraid,” she replied, sincerely sorry. “I saw her early this morning, right outside the girls' bathroom and tried to ask what was wrong. She was quite evasive and told me that everything was fine. She didn't look fine at all, if you ask me.”

“I agree,” said Harry, unhappily.

“I'm sorry, but I need to run to the dungeons now. I've got Potions first today, and you know how horrible Snape becomes when someone is late. See you later.” Ginny rushed downstairs as the two boys entered the class.

All the desks and chairs had been removed. About twenty house elves were standing along one wall, side by side. All of them had large baskets by their sides, filled with different objects. All of the students were standing there, casting puzzled stares from the house elves to Magnus Erudio in turn, while he sat quietly at his desk, waiting for the lesson to start.

Harry scanned the room, searching for Hermione. He found her on the other side of the room from him. She was doing her best to not look in his direction. When the bell rang, Erudio began a long and detailed explanation on that day's lesson.

“Professor McGonagall has told me that you should all be pretty good with Vanishing Spells by now. As such, I'm sure you won't have any problem with today's lesson. During a magical duel, we may want to use a Vanishing spell instead of a Shield spell. This is particularly true when the enemy has shot one or several dangerous physical objects at you and you need to make them vanish.”

Erudio paused for a short moment. Most all of the students were listening carefully to him, not wanting to miss a word. Most, that is, except for Draco Malfoy and the others from Slytherin, who looked extremely bored.

“Our dear house elves have kindly agreed to help us with today's practice. Their job is to throw objects at you. Your job is to vanish them, using the Vanishing Spell.” Erudio then turned to Theo. “Mr. Mustle, would you please monitor each student's exact execution? Unfortunately, it's impossible for me to do it myself. I remind you all that there is no need for you to say a word.”

Obediently, the students took out their wands and lined up side by side, across from the house elves.

Harry stood on his toes to see where Hermione was standing. Finally, he spotted her near the end of the line between Lavender and Dean. Her house elf began to throw at her a bowling ball and then a rapid succession of bowling pins, which she easily vanished one by one with a light flick of her wand.

Next to Harry, Ron seemed to be in trouble. With great effort, he managed to vanish a small tomato, but when his elf threw at him several oranges one after the other, he panicked and they hit him in the forehead.

“Harry Potter, sir.” The squeaking voice of Dobby grabbed Harry's attention. The small house elf was standing in front of him, his large green eyes open wide. A large smile brightened his pale face. “Dobby is very happy to see you again, sir.”

“Hi Dobby, I'm happy too.” Harry smiled, sincerely glad.

“Is Harry Potter ready?”

“W-what? Oh, yeah...” Harry suddenly realized what he was supposed to be doing, and pointed his wand at Dobby. “All right, then. I'm ready.”

During the hour that followed, the house elves kept throwing all different kinds of objects; the students did their best to make them vanish. Theo Mustle had been very helpful to his classmates, suggesting a better way of directing a wand or the most effective distance from which to cast the spell.

“Evanesco!” Ron whispered, successfully vanishing a bouquet of flowers before they reached him. “Did you see that, Harry? All those flowers with a single spell!”

“I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Weasley, but you're not allowed to speak the incantation verbally,” Theo pointed out, taking seriously his role of teacher's assistant. “Besides, if I were you, I wouldn't congratulate myself too much for being able to vanish an innocent bunch of flowers,” he added in a whisper before moving away to help Millicent Bulstrode at the opposite side of the room who had just received a face full of cucumber.

Ron frowned at him. “I can't stand him! Who does he think he is? Just because Erudio likes him, it doesn't mean that he's the best student in the school!”

Harry nodded absentmindedly, taking a quick look toward the end of the line where Hermione's house elf had just thrown the last of the objects in his basket. After a deep bow, he disappeared with a resounding POP!

At the end of the lesson, everyone put away their wands and quietly exited the room to head to Professor Flitwick's class. During the next two hours, the situation with Hermione didn't change much. She spent the lesson sitting with Lavender in a desk in the first row, while Harry and Ron took their usual desk in the back, still confused by her odd behavior.

“Look at her. Maybe she thinks I'm wearing my invisibility cloak!” Harry commented with a certain amount of anger in his voice.

“Yeah...” replied Ron distracted as he skimmed through Charms & Co. by Rose McBall. “And in the meantime, since she's mad at you, she doesn't speak to me either. Tell me, how are we supposed to manage with our homework now? We absolutely need for you two to make up soon, or we'll fail our N.E.W.T.s. Mum'll kill me!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the help! Do you have any ideas?”

Ron stared at the front row for a moment, then suddenly sat straight in his chair as if struck by an idea. “Why don't you ask Lavender? Surely she knows what the hell is going on with Hermione.”

Harry realized that Ron was actually right. The hard part would be to stop Lavender without Hermione noticing. When the bell rang, the two boys were the first to leave the classroom. They rushed to the Great Hall for lunch and quietly waited in front of the entrance of the hall, hidden behind a column.

Finally, Hermione and Lavender entered and took a seat at the Gryffindor table.

“Now what?” Ron asked nervously.

“Now, it's my turn.” Harry closed his eyes and tried very hard to concentrate. With great effort, he tried to visualize Lavender in his mind, until finally her face appeared in his inner sight. Two brown eyes, long blond hair, a spattering of freckles on her nose. He then attempted to send a message to her through his mind. Go to the common room as soon as you can. The boy you've been waiting for, for so long, is there...

“Would you be kind enough to tell me what you're doing?” Ron's annoyed voice brought him back to the Great Hall again.

“You'll see, don't worry.”

Lavender quickly stood up and rushed to the entrance of the Hall, passing close by the boys. Harry stepped up to her. “Lavender? I need to talk to you.”

“Hi Harry. Ron. What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised.

“Erm... we're going to have lunch in a minute...” Harry replied vaguely. “It seems that you and Hermione have become great friends lately.”

Lavender frowned at him and crossed her arms. “Yeah... and it usually happens when you two have a row.”

“Well... anyway, this time it isn't my fault. She keeps avoiding me and I don't even know why. Maybe you could...?”

Lavender rolled her eyes, deeply annoyed.

“Why don't you please just tell me what the hell I did!” shouted Harry.

“You boys are all the same!” Lavender replied, almost in resignation. “Merlin's beard, Harry! Haven't you been reading the Daily Prophet?”

Harry shook his head. What with homework and Erudio's lessons and worrying about Hermione, he hadn't had time to read the newspaper.

“The Prophet is full of articles about attacks on Muggle cities. There have been five in the last month near where she lives. She's worried for her parents! She hasn't got anything else on her mind, and you haven't seemed to be able to understand that.”

Harry stood there speechless. How could he have been so thick, so insensitive, so selfish?

Without saying a word, he returned to the Great Hall and hurried to Gryffindor table where Hermione was finishing her solitary lunch. She raised her head and their eyes met for a second, a second that seemed to last forever.

“Why didn't you tell me?” asked Harry, almost as if scolding her. Hermione didn't reply. She lowered her gaze and started gathering her belongings.

“I'm talking to you!” shouted Harry; the nearby students turned to look them.

“Would you please stop shouting like that?” she admonished, looking around worriedly. “What are you talking about?”

“Your parents. Why didn't you tell me about the attacks near your house?”

Hermione looked away and returned to putting her books back into her bag. “This is neither the time nor the place to talk about this.” Finishing her sentence, she closed her school bag, stood up, and quickly headed toward the entrance.

Harry felt his blood boiling inside and had a strong desire to cast a Summoning Charm on her. He looked around and saw nearly every pair of eyes in the Great Hall looking at him. Everyone certainly must have been enjoying the spectacle he was making of himself right now. Tightening his fists in anger, he followed her out to the entrance hall, right in front at the large house point hourglasses.

“Hermione, please wait! You're going to listen to me this time. You can't always run away!” Harry grabbed her right arm, forcing her to spin around. As she did, her bag broke and all of her books and notes fell, spilling across the floor.

“Perfect! Are you happy now?!” she shouted furiously, bending down to gather her things.

Harry kneeled close to her and grabbed her hands. They were again eye to eye. “Why won't you let me help you?”

Hermione sighed deeply before replying. “Because I don't want to be a distraction... to distract you from...

“You don't want to distract me from what, tell me!” Harry cut her off, angrily. “Do you think that it's fun for me, waiting for death, while I'm attending my final year at school? Do you think that it's exciting for me, knowing that he's out there, waiting for me? I didn't ask Voldemort to kill my parents and leave me this bloody scar!”

“Don't you understand?” Hermione replied. “This is exactly why I've done what I have. Your life is already too complicated. You don't need to be adding my troubles to yours!”

“Do you mean that I'm supposed to thank you for this?” asked Harry sarcastically. “That I'm supposed to feel better for you pushing me away?”

Hermione wasn't able to reply. She slowly stood up and moved a few steps toward the window. The sky was filled with large, gray clouds that threatened rain.

Harry stood up as well. “I thought we were a couple.”

“We are!”

“Then don't be afraid to ask for my help when you need it. You can't always be strong, always invincible,” Harry whispered, moving closer to her. “I need you, and you need me.”

Hermione stared intensely into his eyes. When he held out his arms, she rushed over and buried herself in his chest, hugging him tightly, finally feeling safe at last.

“We'll ask Dumbledore. He'll know what to do. Your parents will be moved to a safer place,” he whispered, softly brushing her ruffled hair.

“You don't know my dad like I do.” Hermione replied, brushing away the tears. “He'll never leave home.”

“We'll find another way, then. Dumbledore will send wizards from the Order to guard your house. We'll protect them another way, I promise.”

“Thank you, Harry. It means so much to me.”

“Shhh...” he hushed her, pressing his finger to her lips. He then moved closer and sealed his promise with a long, deep kiss.

***O***

That night, Harry and Hermione went to speak with Dumbledore. However, Professor McGonagall told them that the Headmaster was unfortunately away from school. They explained to her Hermione's concerns; she assured them that someone from the Order would guard the Grangers' house.

A week passed by. The days had become cold and rainy; November was at their door. That Saturday, students had no other alternative other than to remain inside, doing their homework or playing chess.

Ron decided to brave the rain and join Luna for a romantic walk in the gardens. Harry and Hermione, their earlier strife resolved, quietly spent the morning in the overcrowded common room. They were sitting at a long table with a bunch of fifth years who were busy with their O.W.L. lessons.

Harry raised his head from his Transfiguration essay, “Main Principles of Human Transfiguration” and rubbed his weary eyes. With all that was happening in the wizarding world, the war and the attacks, it was extremely difficult for him to concentrate on his studies. Hermione was sitting across from him. Her mind seemed to be somewhere else as well for she had been staring at the same page for a very long time.

“Hey, are you all right?” asked Harry, grabbing her hand.

Hermione turned toward him abruptly, as if she had been interrupted from a daydream.

“I think so. I can't stop thinking about my parents. Maybe I should be with them now?”

Harry frowned in worry. “Would you feel more comfortable at home?”

“Actually, I'd rather have my parents here with me at Hogwarts. There's no safer place at the moment. Besides, I don't think I'd be able to leave you alone here. You know that, don't you?”

Harry smiled. If Hermione had gone back home, he would have followed her.

“Did you hear what happened to Hannah Abbott's parents?” Hermione whispered. “They were kidnapped two days ago without any trace. Hannah's aunt just informed her today. She left school immediately. Many of the other students have lost relatives and friends in the last weeks. Remember what happened to the Creeveys' father? And Neville's grandmother, of course...”

“If only I knew how to stop all this,” commented Harry bitterly. Even though he was an important part to this fight against evil, it wasn't yet clear to him how he was going to succeed. Dumbledore always told him to remain at Hogwarts and continue his studies. They had never openly talked about the subject in any sort of practical manner, however.

Just then, portrait hole door opened and Ron entered the common room. He was completely soaked from head to toe.

“Awful idea, going out in such rain!” he exclaimed, taking a seat near Harry and Hermione. He then took out his wand and pointed it at his hair and clothes. A burst of hot air started to come from his wand. “Luna wanted to look for wild Knarls. She says they prefer to leave their dens during the rain. Unfortunately, the only creatures we found out there were giant slugs!”

Harry smiled, shaking his head. “You must be seriously smitten if you agreed to follow her on her little adventure.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Ron admitted, now directing the flow of hot air toward his shoes. “You want to know the interesting part? Coming back to the castle, we ran into Filch. He was talking to Professor McGonagall in front of the main entrance. It seems they've found Mrs. Norris finally. Someone turned her into a marble statue and set her on top of the highest tower to be company for the other gargoyles.”

Ron laughed, amused, but Hermione frowned at him. “This is nothing to laugh at, Ronald. I'm sure that whoever did this to Mrs. Norris is the same person who is responsible for killing the school owls in the Owlery. And if you ask me, they aren't going to stop there.”

“Let's keep our eyes open, then. It seems that someone with a dark sense of humor is hanging about the school,” said Harry, looking at the other students suspiciously.

Around lunch time, it had stopped raining and the sun had come out. In the afternoon, most of the students went out onto the grounds, happy to take in a bit of fresh air. Ron suggested that they go to Hagrid's, motivated more from his desire to try Sirius's motorbike than to pay a visit to an old friend. Hermione politely declined the invitation, since she really wanted to finish McGonagall's essay. She insisted though that Harry should go.

“You need to do something different from time to time,” she said when he suggested that he would remain with her. “I'm happy if you go and have a nice visit with Hagrid.”

Harry and Ron spent the whole afternoon with their half-giant friend. Together, they washed and polished the old motorbike. Afterwards, they even tried to ride it, taking turns making low, easy flights near the forest, above the amused stares of a small group of curious students. For those few hours, Harry managed to enjoy his time and, for a change, didn't once think about his own troubles.

The sun beginning to set behind the hills as the two boys walked through the gardens to go back to the castle.

“Think about it for a moment, Harry. When you get your magical driving license from the Ministry, you'll be able to visit the entire world on your motorbike!” Ron looked more excited than Harry at the idea. “How many countries are you going to visit? Besides, traveling on a flying motorbike is certainly more comfortable than flying on a broom. And that doesn't even count the fact that you can bring as many people as you want with you since the back seat enlarges as much as you need.”

During their walk back, Ron kept listing all the advantages of owning a flying motorbike. The lake was sparkling with a brilliant golden color, lit by the last rays of sunlight reflecting off the water. The grounds were deserted since it was nearly dinner time. Everything was quiet. Then, off in the distance, Harry saw someone pop out from Greenhouse Seven and run toward them.

“Harry, HARRY!” Jane Porter was shouting his name as she got closer. Her clothes were untidy, her cheeks were red and sweaty, and her long black hair thoroughly disheveled. She stopped in front of them and placed her hand on her heart and tried to catch her breath. “Quick! Follow me, before it's too late!”

“W-why? What's happening?” asked Harry, frowning at her.

“Theo and Draco Malfoy! They're fighting each other. You need to stop them immediately.”

Ron laughed sarcastically. “It'd be fun to see who wins, between those two arrogant...”

“Oh, shut up!” Harry scolded him. He then turned to Jane, who was looking at him worriedly. “Where are they?”

Jane nodded without saying a word and quickly moved toward the greenhouse she had come from as Harry and Ron followed her. After a few moments, they reached a semi-hidden garden, surrounded by vegetation. In the center, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were pointing their wands at Theo, who was standing motionless with his wand out, ready to fight.

Not wasting a second, Harry stepped forward, took out his wand, and stood on Theo's right side. “Three against one. Exactly your style, Malfoy!”

“There you go, Mustle. Your girlfriend has returned with the savior of the world,” Draco sneered, still pointing his wand at Theo. “You're safe now. Potter will protect you.” The young Slytherin boy grinned an evil smile, one that his companions imitated.

“She's not my girlfriend, Malfoy!” Theo retorted. “What the hell are you doing here?” he then whispered to Harry, without taking away his eyes from Malfoy. He looked rather annoyed by their arrival. “I could've handled the situation.”

“We've come to save your skin, you idiot!” shouted Ron, standing on Theo's left side.

“It's three against three now.” Harry pointed out. “You're going to have to fight fair now. That's something unusual for a Slytherin, wouldn't you agree?”

“I hope you don't mind, Mustle, if I start with Saint Potter over there! IMMANITAS!” A jet of red light shot out from Draco's wand, but Harry reacted quickly with a Shield Charm.

“PROTEGO!”

Without losing his cool, Draco pointed his wand at Ron and suddenly a series of sharp arrows materialized in the air and flew at him.

Ron was caught by surprise. The arrows would certainly have reached him if Theo hadn't intervened, vanishing the arrows with a quick flick of his wand, saving Ron's life.

“You owe me one, Ron!” Theo whispered, replying to his puzzled expression.

Unexpectedly, a cloud of black bats appeared out of nowhere. Obeying some unspoken command, the magical creatures swarmed toward Malfoy and his cronies, attacking them with their clawed wings.

“Damn!” Draco cursed, waving his arms to chase away the bats. He pointed his wand toward Jane, the source of the distraction, and shouted in anger. “CONJUNCTIVITIS!”

Everything happened as if in slow motion. A beam of what essentially looked like black light hit Jane directly in the face. She shouted in pain, raising her hands to her eyes as she fell to her knees.

“You're going to pay for that, Malfoy!” Theo yelled as he ran to Jane to help her.

Harry felt his anger grow inside. Full of resentment, he pointed his wand at Draco, desiring to cause him as much pain as possible.

“What is going on here?” The sharp voice of Professor McGonagall made everyone jump. She had just arrived and was glaring at them all sternly. “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley. I'm deeply disappointed with you two. A prefect and a Head Boy fighting with each other like two first years!”

The boys remained in silence and lowered their wands. She then turned to Theo, kneeling next to Jane who was brushing the tears from her eyes. “I want to know who started this.”

“It was Mustle, Professor.” Draco quickly spoke up. “He insulted us for no reason.”

“Yeah, it's true!” Crabbe agreed, while Goyle just nodded.

“Mr. Weasley?” Professor McGonagall addressed Ron, asking for confirmation.

“When me and Harry got here, those three were threatening Theo. That's why we got involved, to stop them,” Ron explained.

The professor sighed deeply, as if forcing herself to remain calm and controlled. “Mr. Potter, please show Miss Porter to the hospital wing. The rest of you will follow me to my office where we shall clear up this situation.”

Harry nodded in silence and obediently moved closer to Jane. Theo stared at him intensely. “Take care of her,” he whispered, then joined the others who were already following Professor McGonagall. Harry stood over Jane, who still kept her eyes closed. He put his arm around her shoulders to help her stand up.

“You can hold onto me. I'll guide you to the hospital wing. Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey will be able to fix you up,” he said, doing his best to comfort her.

“Th-thank you, Harry. Thank you so much,” she replied, sobbing.

Jane remained in silence the entire way, while Harry only spoke a few comforting words from time to time.

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey helped her to one of the beds near to the entrance. She carefully examined the girl, then went into her office to prepare a remedy.

Harry had done what he had been told to, but he didn't know if he should leave then or wait for Madam Pomfrey's return. While he thought about it, he stared at her. She didn't look at all like the smart, almost arrogant, girl from the previous week when she won the Transfiguration task. She now appeared completely defenseless, lying on the small bed, her eyes closed and her cheeks streaked by tears.

“Harry? Are you still there?” Jane stretched her hand out toward him. “Harry?”

“Y-yeah... I'm here,” he replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “How are you?”

Jane lowered her hand, sobbing. “How do you think? Have you ever wondered how it would feel to be like Magnus Erudio, and not be able to see anything at all?” she asked. Her voice was quiet, almost resigned.

A sad smile appeared on Harry's face. He moved closer and sat on the bed, near to her. “Malfoy is a bastard. A stupid coward... that's what he is.”

“I can't say that I disagree! I hope Professor McGonagall turns him into a worm.”

“Well, not too original, but it surely gives an idea of how much we hate him.” Harry laughed, and Jane looked relieved.

“Here we are then.” Madam Pomfrey had returned, carrying a tiny, violet bottle. “Two drops of this potion and the Conjunctivitis curse will lose its power.” She then put the liquid on Jane's eyes.

“You need to wait a few minutes, and then you can try to open your eyes. Not before,” the nurse warned. She then moved away, taking the bottle with her.

Jane made a grimace of pain.

“Does it hurt?” asked Harry politely.

“Just a little,” she replied, smiling slightly. “I need to thank you for being so kind to me. I really appreciate it.”

“It's no problem!”

“Surely you had more interesting things to do tonight instead of being forced to remain here with me.”

“Not at all!” Harry quickly added. “Let me tell you. If I wasn't here with you tonight, I'd have been going crazy with McGonagall's essay. You saved me, really.”

“Of course,” Jane exclaimed, disbelievingly.

“It's true. I think we should do this more often.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Jane, bewildered.

“Well, you could end in the hospital wing on a more regular basis and ask me to come with you. This way, we could both skip our homework. Oh, actually, this was one of the Weasley twins' specialties, but I'm sure we could easily take over from where they left off.”

Suddenly, Jane burst into laugher. It appeared to be contagious for Harry too was soon laughing. “What are you laughing at?” he asked, doing his best to remain serious.

“I'm laughing at the silly things you're saying, just to lift my spirits.”

“Do you think so? Yeah, you're probably right,” he replied, feeling uncomfortable again. Silence fell between them. Harry forced himself to look anywhere except at Jane.

“Shall I open my eyes now?”

Harry stared at her carefully. “Go on, try it!”

Jane's eyelids fluttered slightly and after a moment of hesitation, they finally opened. The smile on Harry's face quickly disappeared.

“Hey, what's with that face?” Jane asked, staring at Harry with amusement. “You look as if you've just seen a Muggle flying.”

Harry wasn't able to say a word. His throat had become suddenly dry and his brain was in shock. For a fraction of a second, he had the impression that Jane's eyes were emerald green. He had seen those eyes before... in his dreams. Those beautiful eyes, that were brilliant and deep. Harry rubbed his eyes with his hands, then stared at her again, but Jane's eyes were now brown again.

“Are you all right, Harry?”

“Your eyes... your eyes looked... different.”

Jane covered her eyes with her hands, looking deeply alarmed. “What's wrong with my eyes?”

“No, nothing bad... it's just that...” Harry felt more confused than ever, but he didn't want to alarm her. “I'm sorry, I was wrong. Everything is fine with your eyes, don't worry.”

“Oh, all right, then,” Jane sighed in relief. “You scared me. Don't you dare do that again!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,” Harry replied, feeling uneasy. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain about what he had just seen. Jane's eyes were green, but then they turned brown. Still confused, he stood up, eager to leave. “It's really late. I should go back to the common room now.”

“Are you sure you don't want to stay any longer?”

“I'm sorry, but I can't. Hermione is probably waiting for me. I hope you get well soon.” Without adding anything more, Harry headed to the door and left the hospital wing with a weird feeling inside.

***O***

Human transfiguration is a very complex process. Changing your own body parts at will requires extreme concentration and skill.

Sitting on his bed with his curtains closed tight around him, Harry was deeply absorbed in his reading of The Practical Handbook of Advanced Transfiguration.

In the nearby beds, his dorm mates were asleep; he was doing his best to keep the light of his wand as low as possible. During his walk back from the hospital wing to Gryffindor Tower, he thought about the connection between Jane Porter and the little girl he had been dreaming of each night. In his mind, the two figures beginning to resemble each other more and more.

Harry nervously skimmed through the book one more time. He had been looking through it randomly for almost an hour trying to find something useful. There was nothing listed in the table of contents about transfiguring any specific part of the body. He looked again at the index, and finally found it.

At the bottom of the page where he though he might find “Transfiguring the Eyes” or “Transfiguring the Face” (but didn't), he finally happened to notice “Transfiguring the Head.” Listed under it were specific examples.

“Here it is!” Harry whispered to himself, nearly shouting loudly in eagerness. “Hair, ears, nose, teeth... eyes!” He turned to the exact page number, then read greedily.

The eyes, also known as the Mirrors of the Soul, are quite possibly the most difficult body part to transfigure. They are considered to be the revealing mirror of your own emotions and intentions. If you think that someone is lying to you, look into his or her eyes, and you will know if they are speaking the truth.

You can change the shape and color of your eyes, however it is extremely difficult to mask what your eyes truly reveal without using Occlumency. For those interested in this subject, a broad explanation of Occlumency can be found in the book How to Protect your Mind from Prying Eyes, by Pablo Secrecy.

Harry finally closed the book, feeling exhausted. He read every detail in there on how to change the color of the eyes, but nothing on how to unmask someone who had transfigured his or her eyes. He absolutely needed to know more, and he had no time to read all the books in the library.

With Transfiguration this advanced, the only person who could be able to help him was Professor McGonagall. The following day, he would have to look for her. Harry set the book on his bedside table, extinguished the light on his wand, and lay down. It wasn't clear to him why, but he began to feel a tremendous urgency to know more about Jane Porter and what she was hiding.

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(A/N: Dear friends, I'm really sorry for the delay in publishing, but now I'm really happy to have finally managed to write, translate and edit the next chapters of the story. As usual, I'd like to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr for his great help. I hope you will enjoy and leave a review. Oh, please, have a look at my new blog. This is the address: http://thecharmingcastle.blogspot.com/ Thank you so much!)

Chapter 13. A STORMY HALLOWEEN

The following day, Harry woke up extremely early, something that didn't happen very often, especially on a Sunday. After spending a good half hour tossing and turning in his bed thinking about what happened the previous evening, he finally decided to get up.

While he got ready in silence, being careful not to wake the others who were still asleep, he became convinced that if he was able to unmask Jane Porter, he would also be able to understand the meaning of his recurring dreams. In his mind, he began to wonder whether this girl really was a spy sent by Death Eaters, or even a Death Eater herself sent by Voldemort personally to plan a future attack on Hogwarts.

Harry quickly washed his face and grabbed the first pair of jeans and the first clean wool jumper he found, then slinked away on his tiptoes.

The common room was deserted. Outside the window, the sun had already risen in the sky and the lawns were still covered with frost. Without wasting any time, Harry exited the Fat Lady's portrait and walked along the corridor which was slowly being lit by the sun coming in through the tall windows.

The castle looked ghostly, so empty and silent. Even the portraits were still dozing in their frames. But Harry didn't pay any attention to them; he kept walking until he reached the Transfiguration's professor's office. He had just raised his hand to knock on the door, when he suddenly stopped in midair and realized how early in the morning it was. Professor McGonagall is still probably sleeping, he thought. He then stubbornly shook his head and knocked twice. I need to know more. I can't wait any longer.

After a few minutes of silence, the door slowly opened then quickly stopped, casting a thin wedge of light on the floor. Harry was only able to glimpse the slim figure of his teacher, wrapped in her red housecoat. Two wide eyes glared at him behind a pair of glasses slightly askew on her long nose. “Potter? Something wrong?” asked the teacher in an alarmed whisper.

“I'm... I'm sorry to wake you up so early, Professor,” started Harry, feeling guilty. Honestly, it wasn't a life or death matter. “I just need to talk to you. It's a personal matter.”

Professor McGonagall sighed in relief. A moment later, she adjusted her glasses on her nose and regained her usual sternly composure as she opened the door and let Harry in. “Come in Mr. Potter. Would you like to have a biscuit?”

Harry closed the door behind him and followed the teacher to her long mahogany desk. The study was dark, as the curtains one the windows were still shut. The fire was burning lively in the fireplace, in front of it a comfortable rocking chair was moving slightly. On the wall shelves were a great amount of books, all of them arranged in perfect order.

Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk and handed him a box of ginger biscuits. Harry took a seat in front of her and accepted a biscuit, more to be polite than from being hungry. “So, what's this personal matter that couldn't wait until a more reasonable hour?” asked the teacher as she interlaced her fingers, setting them on the desk and staring at the boy with deep attention.

“Well... it's something concerning your subject,” Harry started, nervously crumbling the biscuit in his hands. “More precisely, human transfiguration.”

The teacher took a deep breath, switching into a mode which was much easier for her. “Was there something difficult about our last lesson, Mr. Potter? Something you're having a difficult time understanding? If you can tell me exactly what's not clear to you, then I would be happy to give you a more careful explanation. Maybe you wish to expand your understanding of the Metamorphosis Charm? Or are you still having problems changing the colour of your hair or your eyebrows? I understand that in the beginning it may seem difficult, but I can assure you that if you practice regularly, within a few months everyone of you will be able to...”

“To be honest, that isn't exactly what it is,” Harry cut her off, feeling more and more nervous.

“Well, perhaps then you're having trouble cancelling the effects of the Metamorphosis spell? Being able to go back to your original hair colour or choosing a brighter shade of colour instead of the one...”

“There is a particular question I have in mind,” Harry cut her off again. Professor McGonagall inhaled deeply this time, clearly forcing herself to not scold him.

“Will you tell me what's the matter, then? Or are we going to stay here until the start of lessons tomorrow morning?”

“I need to know what is the most effective way to discover if a wizard is using a disguise or not.”

“Why don't you give me an example? Simply, using your own words.”

Harry thought about it for a few seconds, trying to find the right words to use without alarming his professor too much. “Let's say that I'm on a top secret mission for the Order and so as to not get caught, I've changed the shape of my nose, the colour of my skin and also... the colour of my eyes. What would the enemy try to cancel my disguise and discover who I truly am?”

A pleased smile appeared on Professor McGonagall's face. “Very good, Mr. Potter. I see that you're still taking seriously your plans to become an Auror.” Harry stared at her puzzled, but didn't cut her off this time and kept listening. “One of the subjects taught in Auror training by the Ministry of Magic is Art of Camouflage, but I didn't believe that you were already so interested in such advanced topics.”

The teacher looked at him from head to toe through her round glasses, trying to read anything from him. Harry remained silent, putting on an innocent air for fear of letting slip his true reasons. After all, he had nothing concrete, no proof that Jane was guilty of anything. His curiosity was just born of the fact that she was incredibly similar to the little girl with green eyes, about whom he was dreaming every night.

“Well, I could easily dwell on a long, detailed explanation about the scientific mechanism that leads to human transfiguration...” Harry frowned at her worriedly; McGonagall then quickly added, “but I realize that this isn't the right time or place. Why don't we plan a few private lessons during the next few weeks so that I may be able to introduce you to the Art of Camouflage?”

Harry didn't know what to say. Certainly it wasn't a good idea to undertake more school commitments, however he didn't want his professor to get suspicious. “Oh, that would be great,” he replied. “But I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it... you know, with all the other subjects and the end of term examinations so near.”

Professor McGonagall stared at him sternly. “It'll just be one meeting per week, and I'm sure that the studying of this subject will benefit your school career, Mr. Potter.” Since Harry didn't look quiet convinced, she added, “Or, we could easily start our private lessons next term, if it's more convenient for you.”

“Yes!” exclaimed Harry quickly... maybe too quickly. “Yes, that would be great. Thanks.” He then realized that she had not answered his question yet and the time was getting late. “Going back to my original question, if I had suspicions about someone in particular and wanted to unmask him, what would I...?”

McGonagall frowned at the boy and inhaled again, this time so deeply that her nostrils flared as they always did when she felt displeased. “As I will explain during our lessons next term, the secret to being a good Auror is to obtain the maximum result with a minimum of risk. First and foremost, the primary goal is to not do anything hazardous or reckless. You should always think to your safety first. In other words, not getting in trouble, as you always do!”

Harry just nodded and lowered his head to hide a smile. After all, he was famous for his ability to get into trouble.

“The other extremely important thing to consider is your situation. To be blunt, how much time have you at your disposal before you might get killed.”

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He'd never thought about it in such an extreme way.

Professor McGonagall continued with her explanation. “If for example you meet one of your friends in Knockturn Alley, and it's very late at night and this friend of yours is carrying a bag over his shoulder. And that bag is dripping a dark substance that looks like blood...” The teacher stopped, pleased at the shocked look on Harry's face, pleased that he was considering things he had never before. “And you want to be absolutely certain that he is your friend and not a Death Eater with a disguise. Well, in that case I would suggest you cast an Unmasking Spell immediately, without wasting time thinking about it.”

Harry swallowed with difficulty. “Yeah, I agree.”

“On the other hand, if you're working as a spy and you've found yourself in a safer position, I'd suggest you to take your time and collect as much information as possible about the wizard in question, doing your best to not be uncovered. You might question the people around him, track his origins, who his parents are, who his friends are, and so on until you get a much clearer idea of the entire picture.”

McGonagall then stood up and went over to the window to open the curtains. The weak morning light lit the room. Harry knew it was time to leave, but there still was something he wanted ask.

“I have one last question, Professor,” dared Harry, standing up as well. “If you don't mind.”

Professor McGonagall turned to him, her eyes narrowing in patience growing thin.

“If a wizard who is using camouflage has been cursed...” Harry recalled the curse cast by Malfoy the previous night. “For example, if he has been hit by the Conjunctivitis Curse, is it possible that the camouflage loses its effects and even vanishes for a short time?”

“I must remind you that the greater the wizard's will power, the more resistant is his camouflage. But you're right. If a wizard's power has been weakened during a battle, then also his camouflage could be damaged and weakened.”

Harry's eyes suddenly lit up. That was the first confirmation on his suspicions about Jane. “Thank you so much, Professor. That's all I needed to know.”

***O***

The Great Hall was full of students. The weather wasn't very good, but at least it wasn't raining and was possible to take a walk outside in the gardens after breakfast.

Harry sat alone at Gryffindor table. After his talk with Professor McGonagall, he had been among the first to enter the Great Hall. With an attentive stare, he concentrated on each student as they sat down at the four House tables. Without touching his food, he kept thinking about the best way to gather information about Jane Porter. His gaze rested on each student in turn, known and unknown. Each time, he asked himself the same question: Who would be able to provide him with that crucial clue?

Just then, Theo Mustle entered through the large doorway. The boy smiled and greeted Seamus and Dean with a wave of his hand; they joined him immediately. They were two with whom he had made good friendships in the past months. The three of them stood by the entrance, chatting.

Why not Theo? Harry asked himself, staring at the boy. It looks like he and Jane are great friends. But then he realized that maybe they were too good of friends. I doubt Theo would tell me anything at all, he decided, rejecting the idea.

Not far away from him, Ginny had just taken a seat with a group of girls. I could ask Ginny! They're together in class. Maybe Jane mentioned something about her family. After thinking about it, he finally decided this was the better idea, even if he wasn't sure how much Ginny knew about Jane.

Harry sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He beginning to feel tired from waking up so early. All the thinking and planning and wondering was starting to give him a headache.

“You're an early riser today, mate.” Ron's voice brought him back to reality. “Problem?” he asked, taking a seat close to him and filling his plate with fried eggs and bacon.

“Nothing new... nightmares and thoughts. In short, another horrible night for me,” Harry replied, pouring some pumpkin juice in his glass. “You didn't tell me how it ended last night. Did McGonagall gave you detention, or what?”

“Nothing of the sort, mate. She just scolded us and then let us go. After all, nobody got hurt seriously, apart from poor Jane Porter. By the way, how is she?”

“Fine... I suppose,” commented Harry, pointing toward the entrance where Jane was coming in, followed by her usual group of admirers.

After the Transfiguration task, she had become the most popular girl in the school and many of the boys did anything and everything to be noticed by her. Someone was carrying her books for her and someone else was rushing to be the first to pour the tea in her cup.

“Ah, that's a winning girl. After breakfast I'll go and ask her how she's doing. I can't forget that I'm the captain of the team and it's my duty to see to the wellbeing of my champions.”

“I can assure you that she's perfectly fine. There's something else we should worry about,” Harry commented sarcastically, provoking Ron's indignation.

“What the hell are you talking about? That girl is all right, I swear!”

“How can you be so sure about it? After all, she's just arrived here and none of us truly knows her. I bet she's hiding something from us.” Harry looked around, wary, then moved closer to Ron who was frowning at him. “What if Jane was a spy?” he whispered, grave.

Ron shook his head as if his best friend had just made the most idiotic statement of the century. “You're always seeing enemies everywhere. Have you any proof, by chance?” he asked, biting a sausage.

“Not really, but I'm on the right path,” replied Harry simply, after swallowing a forkful of scrambled eggs.

“Well, I'm warning you. If you've got plans to go out and discover Jane's secrets, that's fine with me. Just don't get in trouble. And DON'T get Hermione furious again.”

“Why would I get Hermione furious?” asked Harry, clueless.

“Are you kidding? She caught you two walking together, romantically, a few nights ago.”

“We WEREN'T walking romantically!” Harry corrected him, feeling his temper begin to rise.

“Yes, I know, I know. Anyway, from that night on though, as soon as someone even mentions Jane's name, Hermione gets mad. You know her, don't you?”

Harry nodded, serious. He had to admit that Ron was right. Maybe the best thing to do was to tell Hermione exactly what his suspicions about Jane were. “I'll talk to her!” he exclaimed, determined, as he poured some more pumpkin juice into his glass.

Ron shook his head again and stared at his friend, worriedly. “I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he suggested. “If I were you, I'd do anything I could to not... get... Hermione... angry,” he said, emphasizing the last few words.

“Why should I get angry?” Hermione's voice made them jump in their seat. Ron's mouthful of food went down the wrong way, while Harry almost sprayed his pumpkin juice on Ernie Macmillan who was walking in front of them right at that moment. She kept staring at them, amused, while Ron was doing his best to regain his breath and Harry was drying his chin with a napkin.

“Did I interrupt anything?” she asked quietly, sitting between them and pouring herself some hot tea. “You weren't by chance talking about... her, were you?” Hermione asked as she pointed to the opposite end of Gryffindor table where Jane was having breakfast, surrounded by a crowd of fans.

“N-no! Nothing of the sort!” Ron hurriedly answered. “We were just... just... tell her, Harry.”

Both boys frowned at each other over Hermione's head, betraying their embarrassment?

“You're so pathetic, both of you,” Hermione scolded them, shaking her head in resignation. She then quietly sipped her tea and regained her usual know-it-all attitude. “You want to talk about Jane Porter? Well, let's talk about her, then. Would you like to talk about the fact that she's just a flirty, full-of-herself little thing who would do anything to gain a crumb of notoriety? Believe me, as soon as we get another champion after the Defence competition, nobody in the school will even remember her name.”

Harry swallowed with difficulty, realizing that it wouldn't be easy to explain his plan to Hermione. Nevertheless, he was determined to do it. He didn't want to keep any more secrets from his girlfriend.

“I need to tell you what's happening to me,” he started, mysteriously. He then told his friends about the dreams he was having every night and the little girl with green eyes. He told them what had happened with Jane in the hospital wing the previous evening and also the suggestions Professor McGonagall had given him that morning. When he finished, Ron and Hermione were staring at him with a very astonished look in their eyes.

“If I understand right, you believe that there is a connection between the little girl you're dreaming of and Jane Porter,” summarized Ron, scrunching his face up in concentration. “And also, you think that Jane has changed the colour of her eyes from green to brown because... because... I'm sorry, I didn't get that one.”

“Because she's got something to hide! And this is exactly what I want to find out!” exclaimed Harry. “Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all. Maybe she just wanted to be prettier and she just changed the colour of her eyes for this stupid reason. But there's something that I don't get about this situation, and I need to understand what that is.”

“Of course there's something you don't get about this situation!” slammed Hermione, who had remained in silence until now. She looked around, wary, then lowered her voice, forcing the other two to come closer. “Let's say that Jane Porter really is one of Voldemort's spies. Let's say that she's used telepathy to send those odd dreams to Harry. Don't you think that she could be a really, really dangerous person? I'm not just talking about the school safety here. I'm talking about Harry's safety.”

The three friends stared at each other for a few seconds, thinking over Hermione's words. She then broke the silence, speaking with a grave tone. “We need to go to professor McGonagall right away and expose Jane Porter.”

“No, I don't think that's a good idea. It's too early,” replied Harry, disappointed. “We haven't any proof. How can we go to McGonagall now? After all, these dreams aren't my usual nightmares... the ones that have tormented my nights for the last few years. Honestly, I haven't had nightmares about Voldemort for quite some time.” Harry stopped, thinking about what he'd just said. “It's as if... as if someone has closed the connection between me and Voldemort. I don't know why, but it's just so.”

Harry snapped out of his pondering and added, “we need to get something concrete before going to McGonagall. We need to get as much information about Jane as possible.”

“You won't do anything of the kind, Harry Potter!” exclaimed Hermione, frowning at him. “We don't know anything about that girl. We don't know what her true intentions are, and you won't put your life in danger in such a careless way. Please, promise me that you won't get any closer to Jane Porter, and that you won't talk to her, even if she's the last witch on earth!”

Harry was deeply affected by Hermione's words; he had never seen her like this. A deep fire was burning in her eyes, a fire fed by the fear of losing the man she was in love with. Her request, spoken with such determination, Harry could not reply with a `no.' He looked directly into her eyes, then spoke in resignation. “I'll do as you ask... if you don't give me any other choice.”

“You won't need to worry about anything else, Harry. Ron and I will sort it all out. Won't we, Ron?” Hermione looked at her other best friend to get his confirmation; Ron nodded, seriously. “We'll tell McGonagall everything we know.”

Harry knew that his behaviour was not out of weakness or fear, but rather from his deep love for Hermione. For the sake of his love for her, for the first time in his life, he surrendered... he let it go... he gave up. He would not continue his investigation of Jane Porter. Now, it was up to Hermione and Ron.

He cast a quick glance to the opposite end of the table. Jane had just stood up and had joined Theo at the main entrance. They exited the Great Hall together. Those two certainly seem to be great friends, almost accomplices even, he thought, watching them until they left.

“We should probably mention to McGonagall Theo Mustle as well. Just to be safe,” commented Ron, giving words to Harry's thoughts.

***O***

The following week passed quietly, even though Harry kept dreaming about the little girl almost every night. From his point of view, nothing had changed that much, except for the fact that now that he'd promised Hermione that he wouldn't go digging around anymore, it made him feel increasingly helpless and frustrated.

Ron and Hermione went to Professor McGonagall and told her about their suspicions about Jane Porter and Theo Mustle. Their teacher listened to them carefully, but didn't seem to be particularly alarmed. She tried to calm them down and reassured them that she would personally take care of this situation. Harry wasn't at all satisfied with this vague response.

Weeks flew by. Soon it would be Halloween, but instead of being excited for the coming holiday, most of the students were wondering if they still had anything to celebrate in those horrible days of war. The attacks and suspicious kidnappings were happening so frequently that everybody in the magical world feared to leave their homes, even for a quick walk.

Against every expectation, Harry was starting to see differently the private lessons Magnus Erudio was giving him. Doing something specific to get ready for his battle against Voldemort was of great comfort to him. Thanks to the warlock's wise suggestions, he was slowly learning how to control his emotions and also how to master his new powers. He had come to know Erudio better and now appreciated his method of teaching, which was really quite unorthodox.

For example, one day, Erudio asked Harry to meet him in the kitchens. There, a group of house elves was waiting for him. Each of them had a large tray filled with raw meat, set on top of their bald heads. For the next two hours, Harry had to cast fireballs to cook the meat and of course, do his best to hit the poor house elves. Luckily for them, Harry's aim was very good, and with only a few burned ears and a couple singed fingers, all of the trays of meat were perfectly prepared, ready for dinner time.

On another occasion, Erudio asked Harry to again come to the kitchens, this time after dinner. His task was to clean all the dirty dishes, summoning from thin air small vortices of water that he would have to carefully aim and throw at the dishes. After having almost flooded the kitchen, he apologized by creating a powerful tornado that dried everything. All this turmoil incurred the house elves' anger, who said goodbye to them less enthusiastically than usual that night. They didn't want to see him in the proximity of the kitchens again.

All throughout this, little Dobby always remained close to Harry, encouraging him to do better.

One evening, Harry was returning to the common room after one of his usual private lessons with Erudio. This time, the warlock asked him to find a few small objects that Dobby had previously hidden in the dungeons. Starting with a fair amount of difficulty, in less than an hour, he had managed to find all of them, using his ability to read Dobby's mind.

It was very late at night and everywhere was silent. Harry was coming out of the dungeons, heading back up to the upper floors. He was feeling rather proud for how he had finished the lesson. Next time I'll need even less time to find the objects, I'm sure of it, he kept repeating to himself.

He had just walked by the Potions classroom when suddenly the door opened and Professor Snape appeared in front of him. “Potter! I see that you still haven't lost your nasty habit of wandering about the castle so late at night?” He was glaring at Harry from head to toe, great scorn pouring from his narrowed eyes.

Harry slowly turned to him, trying not to lose his calm. He had not forgotten what the Potions master had done for him the previous year. Snape had saved his life. But he also could not forget that from the beginning of the school year, Snape's attitude toward him had become even more embittered that ever before, for no apparent reason. In class, he still kept taunting him, asking pointless questions, and ridiculing him in front of the others. Tired of this, Harry had started to react, answering back to the teacher's provocations, more than once already.

Harry couldn't restrain himself this time. “I don't believe I have to explain to you what I'm doing around the castle.”

Snape didn't lose his cold temper. “Ah yes, I almost forgot. You and that old fortune teller have become great friends.”

“I remind you that the `old fortune teller,' as you're calling him, was chosen by Dumbledore in person to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts in this school,” replied Harry, starting to enjoy the confrontation.

Snape folded his arms across his chest. On his face appeared an amused smirk. “Well, he's still an old fortune teller all the same. A little touched in the head, I might add.”

“Dumbledore trusts him!”

“Honestly, I think that sometimes, our dear Headmaster trusts a little too much... those who don't deserve his trust at all,” he pointed out emphatically.

Harry couldn't resist it. “And you're among them, aren't you?” Snape frowned at him, Harry realized that maybe he'd gone too far.

“What are you insinuating? You're completely in the dark, boy. You don't know anything about me, and I won't allow you to use such a tone.”

Both remained in silence, glaring at each other. Harry was frozen; he kept staring into Snape's eyes stubbornly. “Why don't you tell me all the truth, once and for all? What's this secret that you're keeping so jealously hidden? Why do you hate me so much?”

Another long minute of silence passed by, during which Harry realized the inner battle that must have been going on inside Snape's heart. He most likely wasn't sure that he could reveal whatever his secret was at that time. He sighed deeply, then regained his usual cold attitude. “It isn't any of your business, Potter. Besides, you couldn't understand.”

“It concerns my father, doesn't it?”

“I JUST SAID... that it isn't any of your business!” insisted Snape, raising his voice. “And now you better return to your own common room before I decide to put you in detention.”

Without adding another word, Snape swept back into his office, slamming the door. Harry remained alone in the dark corridor, asking himself a multitude of questions, none of which could be answered yet.

***O***

On the morning of October 31, students woke to the sound of thunder. The storm continued on throughout the entire day. During classes, Harry often remained still, looking at the rain through the windows. The weather outside perfectly reflected his feelings: grey and melancholy. He couldn't forget that his parents were murdered that same night, on Halloween, sixteen years ago.

For the rest of the magical world on the other hand, that was a night to celebrate. It marked the end of the first war against Lord Voldemort, and the “crowning” of little Harry Potter as “The Boy Who Lived.”

Despite the war going on and the sad atmosphere everyone was feeling, Dumbledore insisted on organizing a great banquet, just the same. “A bit of fun will help us to remember that life isn't just battles and destruction,” he pointed out. All of the teachers worked hard with the last minute arrangements for the Halloween celebrations.

That night, the Great Hall was decorated with black and orange garlands while small black bats flew around. Giant pumpkins were set along the four house tables and a large quantity of sweets and delicacies of all sorts filled the dishes.

Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, but instead of enjoying the party as everyone else was, he couldn't help but think about how much the population of students had reduced in the last few weeks. Many of them had lost a relative, friend, or even a parent and had been called back home. Those who remained at school despite that had done so as a sign of loyalty to Dumbledore.

“Then it's decided ? You'll be our champion for the Defence Against the Dark Arts task?” Seamus's ringing voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Seated at his right side, Ron adjusted his tie, looking rather pleased with himself.

“That's right, mate. And I can assure you that I'll do my best to keep victory out of Malfoy's dirty little hands,” Ron replied, determined. “By the way, Harry, what do you think if we do a bit of training together? You know, a bit of quick revision?”

“Of course, though I'm sure you won't need it.”

“Thanks for your confidence, but...” Ron lowered his voice, so that Seamus won't be able to hear. “I'd feel much, much better if you could give me a suggestion or two.”

“No problem!” Harry replied, winking in agreement. Ron smiled, pleased, puffing his chest up a bit, very proud to the champion. He then turned again to Seamus, talking about the great difficulty that was expected during the tasks.

Harry sighed deeply. He raised his gaze and noted that the enchanted ceiling of the hall was covered by grey clouds and it was raining heavily. Suddenly, he felt the warmth of Hermione's hands on his and turned toward her.

“I know what you're thinking,” she said sweetly, squeezing his hand with affection. “But Dumbledore is right. We can't surrender to desperation. Tonight's celebration will remind us that there are still good things in life, worth living for. Friendship, loyalty, compassion, and above all, love.”

“Yeah...” Harry forced himself to smile, even though he was still feeling a pang in his heart.

“Hi, Hermione! I'm so happy to see you.” Padma Patil from Ravenclaw suddenly appeared in front of them, interrupting them. She was breathing hard, as if she had run to reach them. “We've got a problem. Rupert Stone from Slytherin broke his ankle, falling down the staircase. Well, since now he won't be able to patrol the school tonight, Martha Moore from Hufflepuff will be all alone. I'd usually ask to another prefect from Slytherin, but I've looked everywhere for Draco Malfoy, but I can't find him. I'd have replaced Rupert Stone myself, but I've patrolled the corridors for the entire afternoon and I'm really exhausted!”

Hermione looked at her with comprehension. “Would you like me to replace Stone?”

“YES, thanks! I knew that you'd help out of this mess,” shouted Padma, enthusiastically. “I was proud when Professor McGonagall asked me to set the prefect's rounds, but I didn't imagine that it would be so hard keeping up with everyone's troubles. A real hell, believe me!”

“That's fine.”

“Hermione, you're an angel, you saved my life. I need to go now. Enjoy the party, see you later.” Padma ran off, waving her hand at them. Harry watched her go back. She reached Ravenclaw's table, and sat with her other housemates near the entrance.

“Rather impertinent of her, don't you think? Let me say that you've been too kind with her, Hermione. She's always asking favors and you're always there, saying yes.”

“Oh, don't worry, I'm happy to help the others. It gives me the chance to be... how shall I say it... more responsible?” she explained quietly.

“As if you aren't already,” replied Harry slightly disappointed while still looking towards Padma near the entrance. Just then, in an awkward coincidence, Jane and Theo walked out of the Great Hall.

Harry sat up in his chair and watched both of them closely until he could no longer see them. Where the hell are they going in the middle of the banquet? he wondered. The more he thought about it, the more he got suspicious. He wanted to know more. He couldn't let them go like that.

But my promise to Hermione? a little voice in his brain brought him back to where he was. I just want to find out what they're up to, that's all. I'll be careful, he thought. He then realized that he was losing time and he still had to find a good excuse to leave.

“I... I need to go back upstairs. I'm sorry, but I forgot my... watch on the bed,” he tried as he stood up, not taking his eyes from the entrance.

“You can't wait until after dinner? You haven't even touched any of your food either,” objected Hermione, disappointed. She gave a sad look to Harry's plate which was filled with the same roast beef and pudding from half an hour ago. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“Oh, you don't have to. I'll be back in no time, really,” Harry quickly replied as he moved away.

Hermione kept looking at him as he did his best to not turn back to her. Harry's sense of guilt for having lied to his girlfriend was rising in his heart. I'll be back soon, Hermione. I just need to find out what those two are planning, he said to himself as he went out the Great Hall's doors.

Once outside, he closed the doors, leaving the noise of the feast behind him. He looked around, but there was no sign of Jane or Theo. Everything was quiet and the corridors were deserted. He rushed upstairs, but they were gone. I need the Marauder's Map, Harry thought.

As quick as the wind, he reached the first useful secret passage he found, the one hidden behind the painting of a mermaid swimming in the sea. Shortly he was on the seventh floor, heading to Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady was busy with an excited conversation with her neighbour, an Indian witch lying on a flying carpet. The conversation was so involved, neither of them noticed Harry's arrival.

“Booby-trap!” he pronounced the password several times. Finally, with a certain amount of annoyance, the Fat Lady let him in.

“What's going on tonight?” she complained. “We can't even finish a sentence with all the students coming and going so often. Shouldn't you all be at the Halloween feast?”

Harry didn't pay attention to the portrait and rushed inside. He was heading to the staircase when he realized that someone else was there and stopped in his tracks.

Jane Porter was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, her arms folded across her chest, her gaze absorbed in the dancing flames. When she saw him come in, she suddenly stood up. On her face was the tension of someone afraid they were about to get caught doing something wrong.

“Harry? What are you doing here? I thought that everybody was at the feast.” Her words couldn't hide her nervousness.

“I could ask you the same question,” Harry replied promptly.

Jane looked rather lost, as if she didn't know what to say in reply. Her cheeks were reddened and her black hair was tied up in a hasty ponytail. “I didn't feel very well. I just needed somewhere a little quieter,” she justified herself.

Harry frowned at her, looking into her eyes to try to determine whether she was laying or telling the truth. “It's strange to celebrate Halloween in such a horrible time, isn't it?”

“It is,” Jane agreed, smiling painfully.

Harry suddenly realized that he would never have such a perfect chance to question her. Finally, he might be able to learn something about Jane's past and nobody would interrupt them, since all of the students were at the feast. But the promise you made to Hermione? again whispered that little voice in his mind. Harry set aside his sense of guilt and convinced himself it was better to take the risk. I'll be careful, he said to himself. This chance was too important.

“Do you... do you mind if I have a seat on the sofa?”

“Oh, not at all,” Jane replied, indicating the empty place next to her.

Harry slowly came forward and sat on the sofa. A few minutes passed by in silence as both of them simply stared at the crackling fire.

After thinking about the best way to question her, finally he broke the silence first. “Some time ago you told me that you wanted to become my friend.”

“I did,” she confirmed as she coquettishly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, like she always did.

“Well, friends know everything about each other. You know a lot about me but I don't know anything about you.”

“You're right,” Jane said as she smiled, staring directly into his eyes.

“Would you like to... tell me a little about yourself, your family, where you come from?” Harry asked, posing the request innocently way, as if he was asking the time.

Jane thought about it. She then sat more comfortably on the sofa and started. “There isn't much to know about me. I come from a very small town, not far away from here. It's pointless to say the name of the town because it's so small that almost nobody knows it. And it isn't a nice place either. People are mean and inhospitable. Their houses are...” Jane stopped for a second. Then she turned her gaze from Harry and corrected herself. “Actually, my house also is old, run-down, small....”

“You said that you never went to a magical school before,” pressed Harry, wanting to know more about her.

“That's right. I learned everything I know by reading books and thanks to my mum. Maybe this is also why I've never had many friends. I've always been all alone, by myself.”

“But... you and Theo...?”

“Theo and I have known each other since we were very young,” she interrupted. “Our families have always been very close to each other. His dad and my dad were best friends, when they were teenagers. Now, Theo is more like a big brother to me, that's all.”

“I see...” Time was passing by quickly, and Harry was in a hurry to discover the connection between Jane and the little girl with the green eyes. “Please, tell me something about your parents.”

Jane's eyes became suddenly sad. “I'm staying with my mum,” she replied. “We're all alone. Dad has... he left us... a long time ago. Right before I was born.”

Harry realized that he'd gone too far, touching on such a difficult subject. “I'm sorry, I didn't know...”

“Oh, don't be sorry for me. I'm used to living without him.” Jane smiled, but it was a very sad, very cold smile. “My mum and I get along pretty well. We're like best friends... more like two sisters than mother and daughter.” As she spoke, her voice began to rise, to get more urgent, almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than Harry.

For a short moment, Harry believed her, but then he realized her words were hiding a deep bitterness. The smile on Jane's face faded away and her eyes turned to stare at the flames.

“No... that's not true. I lied. Mum and I never really understood each other very well. So instead we keep argue all the time. We have a completely different view on life. Her universe is closed in by our four walls at home. I want to go out and see the world. She fears everything. I'm not scared of anything. She hides herself in her beloved books, in what is solid, that she can hold onto. I hide myself in my dreams, my hopes. But most of all, she's the reason my father left us a long time ago. He left, without any trace.” Jane wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, doing her best not to turn toward Harry.

“Are you... are you sure about this?” he tried. “I mean, are you absolutely sure that it's was your mum's fault? You know, I've learned not to be too rushed in judging people, especially if you don't know all the facts.” The words came out on their own, as if it wasn't Harry who was speaking.

What am I doing now? Harry asked himself, astonished. I'm supposed to gathering proof here, not giving advice! Have I gone mad? But it was stronger than he was; he couldn't prevent himself from feeling sorry for her.

Jane turned suddenly toward him, her eyes wet with tears. “Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know exactly what happened. But I'm sure that it was my mum's fault. She's such a tough woman, so strict and inflexible. She's always there, ready to point out your mistakes, your weaknesses. And even more, during all these years, she hasn't done anything to go look for him, to bring him back home.”

Harry felt extremely guilty. Because of his questions, he'd brought fresh into Jane's mind her sad past. Oddly, his heart seemed so close to her suffering. He could understand her completely. He knew what it was like, living his life, constantly wondering the reason for all of his misfortunes .

A sudden clap of thunder made them jump in their seats. Outside the window, the top of the trees bent violently, pushed by the wind's ferocity as the rain mercilessly beat against window panes.

“I lied, when I said I'm used to living without my father,” Jane spoke again. Her voice was broken as she began crying and her cheeks were stained by tears. “I miss Dad so much. You can't imagine how many times I've wanted to run away from home and go look for him myself. You don't know how many times I've dreamed of how our lives would've been different, if only Dad hadn't left us.”

Harry couldn't stop staring at her. It was as if an ancient magic had just bewitched him. He suddenly felt the strong desire to say anything possible to console her. A painful knot in his throat however prevented him from saying a single word.

“If I ever have the chance to meet him some day... if I ever have the chance to be with him, face to face, exactly as I am with you now, I'd tell him... I'd tell him...” Jane was staring intensely at Harry. In her eyes was a deep emotion that went farther than words. “I'd tell him... not to leave me again, to hug me tight in his arms and let me feel that I'm finally safe. I'd tell him... that I've never stopped loving him....”

The pain Harry was feeling in his heart was unbearable. He didn't know why, but he couldn't bear the idea of seeing this girl crying, of seeing her suffering like this. He truly wanted to do something to help her and acted on instinct. Without thinking, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he moved closer to her and hugged her tight in his arms. She hide her face in his shoulder and let go in a desperate outlet.

“Shhhh, it's all right, it's all right now,” Harry kept whispering in her ear as he brushed her soft hair. It was like holding a helpless, lost, scared little puppy, extremely in need of love. Jane was unable to move away from him, as if she'd been waiting for this moment forever. She desperately held onto him as she sobbed inconsolably.

Harry closed his eyes, still whispering in her ear until she started to calm down and her breathing returned to normal. In that exact moment, something incredible happened. Suddenly, he felt a terrible pain go through his body, from his head to his toes, almost like an electric shock. He found himself rushing through a long, dark tunnel, travelling at great speed.

When everything stopped, Harry looked around and recognized the place where he found himself. He had visited it a few months ago, during one of his visions: a ruined street, surrounded by broken houses. People were running away, terrified as up in the grey sky a group of dementors flew. They were moving closer, menacing, searching for someone.

Harry started to run, for fearing of getting caught. His heart began beating faster in his chest. His adrenaline began to spike, making him dizzy. Fear, anguish, and disbelief of the sights before him were beginning to taking over. Then he saw her: the little girl with the green eyes. She was running through the crowd of people, looking for a safe hideaway. Harry rushed toward her. He needed to stop her, to talk to her, to ask her why all this was happening to him. But suddenly...

“Harry? HARRY?” a voice called.

Someone was shaking him by the shoulders; the vision stopped abruptly. He felt terribly sick and then realized that he'd snapped back to reality. His eyes shot open wide. Jane was looking at him in shock, her face still crossed by tears.

“Harry!” Jane said once more, as if she wasn't able to say anything else.

At the entrance of the common room, Hermione was staring at them, her hands over her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief. Harry stood up immediately, feeling his heart begin to rise to his throat.

“Hermione...”

“How could you?” she whispered as her fists tightened in anger. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?” she shouted, without moving her eyes from his.

“P-please, listen to me. It's not... it's not what you think, we weren't...” stuttered Harry, raising his hand to his head. He was feeling dizzy and his strength was leaving him.

Hermione slowly shook her head; on her face was a grimace of disgust. She couldn't believe her eyes, yet it looked all true. She'd found them there, sitting on the sofa by the fire, in each other's arms. Her beloved Harry had just lied to her. He went upstairs to the common room to meet Jane... after having promised not to go near her anymore. How could he have done such a thing?

Standing by the fireplace, Jane watched the scene in front of her, too shocked to say anything.

“I was worried about you,” Hermione went on, doing her best to remain calm. “When you didn't return, I thought that maybe something bad had happened to you. Meanwhile... you were... you were with... with HER!”

Harry moved closer, but Hermione stepped back. “Please, believe me, we weren't doing anything. We weren't... ahhhh!” He felt a terrible pang in his heart and raised a hand to his chest, grimacing in pain. He knew it always happened like this after a vision, but in that moment he would have given anything be clear-headed and explain the situation immediately.

Suddenly, the passage behind the portrait hole opened and a crowd of students entered the common room. Everybody was talking amongst themselves, agitated, and Harry was able to hear bits and pieces. “A girl has been attacked!” “Did anybody see what happened?”

Taking advantage of the commotion, Hermione mixed into the crowd and ran away, out through the portrait hole.

“Hermione, please wait!” shouted Harry, trying to elbow his way through everyone to follow her. It was nearly impossible however to break through the inflow of students filing into the common room.

With great difficulty, Harry finally managed to reach the corridor, but his girlfriend was already gone. Staggering from his dizziness, he leaned on a column for support and closed his eyes, try to regain his strength.

“Harry! Finally we've found you.” Albus Dumbledore was running toward him, followed by Professors Sprout, McGonagall, and Snape. Professor Flitwick was limping behind them, but at a certain distance. “We've been searching for you everywhere. There have been an attack and Professor McGonagall's office has been ransacked. Are you all right?” The Headmaster grabbed Harry by the shoulders, showing clear signs of relief for having found him unharmed.

“Yeah... yeah, I'm fine,” he replied, still confused.

“Thank Heaven.” Dumbledore tried to regain his usual composure, then turned to his teachers. “Are all the other students safe?”

“The prefects and Head Boy are showing everybody to their respective dormitories,” replied Professor Sprout promptly.

“Do you believe the perpetrator is still in the castle?” asked Professor Flitwick, looking around warily.

“Everything is possible, Filius. Everything is possible,” commented Dumbledore placidly.

Snape came forward, shooting a malevolent stare at Harry. “It's clear that it could not have been someone from my house, since the girl who was attacked is a Slytherin herself.”

“Who... who has been attacked, Severus?” asked Professor Sprout.

“Pansy Parkinson,” he promptly replied.

“We found her unconscious, lying in front of my office,” McGonagall added. “She must have caught the individual when he or she was leaving and was stunned on the spot. Obviously, we'll question Miss Parkinson as soon as she's in a condition to speak. At the moment, Madam Pomfrey is taking care of her in the hospital wing.”

Dumbledore stared at each one of them with a serious look in his eyes. “Minerva, Pomona, Severus, Filius, I hope you'll agree with me. I think it's time to reveal to Harry what we've discovered.” The teachers nodded in silence.

Harry didn't understand what they were talking about. The only thing he wanted to do was to go look for Hermione, to talk to her and explain what was really going on in the common room. He didn't care about anything else, even if it was something top secret from the Order of the Phoenix.

Dumbledore turned to him. In his tired eyes, it was possible to see the weight of what he was going to reveal. “Harry, listen to me carefully. There is something of extreme importance we need to tell you.”

Harry nodded in silence. His head was still throbbing painfully and his heart was in turmoil.

“I am certain we've discovered the way to defeat Lord Voldemort, once and for all.”

A sudden bolt of lightning lit the corridor, followed by a crash of thunder that rattled panes of glass in the windows. Harry and the others didn't move a muscle.

1

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( A/N: Dear friends, I'm really happy to be able to publish the next chapter so soon, thanks to the great, great help of my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr. I need to tell you that tomorrow I'll be leaving for my summer holidays and that I won't be able to publish chapter 15 until July 20^th... sigh! But don't worry, since chapter 14 is longer than my usual, almost 15 pages, so, I'm sure that it'll give you a lot of new subjects to think about during the next month! I also need to remind everyone that this story was started before HBP, which is why Voldemort isn't using Horcruxes. As usual, I wish to thank all those who have left a review, like Ocean, IronChefOr, and Sandra. Here we go, then. Please relax and enjoy yourselves...)

Chapter 14. FIRE AND FLAMES

Harry woke up abruptly after another one of his strange dreams. He sat on the bed and raised a hand to his head. He was breathing hard and his heart was torn over what he'd just seen. In his dream, the little girl with green eyes changed into Jane Porter. It was now clear to him that the two girls were the same person. But why do I keep dreaming about her? he asked himself, wiping his sweaty forehead as he stretched back out on the bed again.

Around him was silence; the storm had subsided. Harry shot a suspicious glare at the nearby bed where Theo Mustle looked deep asleep. He'd never really trusted Theo from the very beginning... even less so now. Feeling uneasy, he tightly closed the curtains around his bed.

He then closed the eyes. The scene from the previous night came up in his mind, like a movie that played again and again. Hermione was standing there, frowning at him and Jane, horrified. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?” she kept repeating, shocked.

Harry clenched shut his eyelids, as if trying to erase the memory. But alas, it was in vain. His heart was gripped by remorse. Hermione is right. How could I've done this to her? How could I've been able to lie to her? I just up and left the Great Hall with a ridiculous excuse to go looking for Jane and Theo. And then... getting caught like that, in such a silly way.

Harry thought about why he had been pushed to remain alone with Jane, in the common room, sitting close to her, questioning her. I needed to know the truth, he said to himself. But was that the only reason?

Why had Jane's words touched him so deeply? Why had he wanted to comfort her in such an affectionate way? He'd always been suspicious about her. He'd even believed that she was a Death Eater. And now? Had something changed in his heart?

Maybe you're starting to fancy her? replied a small, malicious voice in his brain. Harry shook his head as if to banish this absurd thought. No! I don't have any feelings for Jane. I love Hermione! he repeated to himself insistently.

He tried to talk to his girlfriend, but she ran away. He uselessly tried to follow her, found Professor Dumbledore instead. It seemed as though Pansy Parkinson had been attacked and someone turned Professor McGonagall's office upside down. Harry followed Dumbledore to his office and came to know a worrying truth.

*** FLASHBACK***

Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk. Harry was standing in front of him, his face pale like a wax statue. Professors Snape and McGonagall were standing behind Harry, a stern and grave look in their eyes. In the twilight, the portraits of the previous headmasters were watching the scene with great attention.

“We've found the way to defeat Lord Voldemort... forever,” the Headmaster said, emphasizing the last word. “Before detailing everything, I would like to step back and return to the moment in which everything started.”

Harry felt his blood freeze in his veins, and for a short instant he feared that his heart would stop beating.

“We need to go back to this same night of sixteen years ago. The night of Halloween when Voldemort was defeated for the first time... the night in which... James and Lily Potter lost their lives, and yours became a legend,” the Headmaster went on, his deep blue eyes still fixed directly on Harry.

“You already know why you survived the curse cast by Voldemort that night. The love of your mother and her sacrifice set in place a very ancient magic. Thanks to this magic, the curse bounced back, hitting the caster instead. At that point, the Avada Kedavra should have killed him, destroyed him forever. But this didn't happen. To be sure, he couldn't expect a physical body anymore. But his essence, his soul, was still in this world, ready to come back as soon as the right moment presented itself. That, unfortunately, has happened, as we all know too well.”

Harry nodded in silence, lowering his gaze to the floor. His mind flew to that horrible night of a few years ago, the night in which Cedric Diggory died, and Voldemort was reborn.

Dumbledore spoke again. “Did you ever asked yourself, Harry, how this happened? Voldemort has toyed with death... he has challenged the destiny that impacts every human being... and he has come back to bring to conclusion that which he left undone. How has this happened?”

The portrait of one of the former headmasters, directly above Dumbledore's desk and with a long, grey beard, muttered something sadly. He then shifted his position in his chair to sit more comfortably as he continued to listen with increasing interest.

“You see, Harry, I asked myself this same question for several years, never stopping my search for the answer, and making several different guesses. From personal experience, I know very well there is the possibility to grant one's self a long existence. My dear friend Nicolas Flamel was a living example of this. With his Philosopher's Stone, he was able to live longer than anybody else. But to come back to life from death, well... that's much, much different. Nevertheless, Voldemort has done it. But how?”

Harry realized that he had never thought about this before. He knew that Voldemort was capable of using dark magic with great prowess, and he could perform all sorts of incredibly evil and cruel acts. But Harry had never thought about how he managed to triumph over death.

“I've known Tom since he was very young and I know for certain that he has never trusted a soul, not even his followers. His secret has jealously been guarded for years. So then, how could we discover his weakness, the only, true weapon with which we could defeat him?

“With the help of others wizards from the Order, we've searched and searched without end. And then, finally managing to penetrate the mysteries of the same ancient magic that saved your life, we succeeded in finding a clue... a glimpse of hope, a path to follow.” Dumbledore's eyes lit up with the sacred fire of wisdom.

“Keep in mind, Harry, that what I'm going to reveal to you tonight is something extremely important, and secret. Many brave wizards gave their lives to bring us this precious information. Now, it's time for you to know the truth. After recent events, sadly we've realized that Hogwarts isn't as safe of a place as it was before. Danger looms over us and we need to be careful so that our secrets won't fall into the wrong hands.”

Instinctively, Harry's mind snapped to Professor Snape and for a fraction of a second, he was weighed by the terrible thought that maybe even the Headmaster was giving too much trust to people who didn't deserve it.

Dumbledore rose his gaze to Professor McGonagall, who had remained in silence until then, close to Professor Snape. “Please, Minerva, could you...?”

“Certainly Albus,” she promptly replied. She then took out her wand and pointed it to the door. IT glowed for a few seconds with a silver light, then returned to its normal colour. Harry knew that his professor had just cast an Imperturbable Charm so that they won't be heard by uninvited ears.

“Thank you, Minerva.” Dumbledore turned again to Harry, staring at him seriously. “Now, I need you to listen carefully.”

The Headmaster slipped his right hand inside his blue robe's sleeve and withdrew a tiny glass cruet filled with a swirling, smoke-like substance. The bottle was similar to those containing prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. He set the cruet on his desk and tapped it gently with his wand. The stopped jumped off and a thin figure of smoke emerged from it. Its head and body were covered with a black cloak; the face could not be seen.

“The Dark Lord will walk the Arcane Path, sacrificing the essence of his own life.

He will destroy and annihilate everywhere, realizing each of his dark desires.

But time will signal the start of his end.

The Dark Lord's enemy will rise again from his ashes,

Like the most noble of the Phoenixes,

And will change the destiny of everyone,

But only on the condition that courage is not lost along the way.”

The thin figure spoke the prophecy in a whisper, before sinking back into the glass cruet, returning to its previous smoky appearance.

Dumbledore sealed the cruet and slipped it back into the sleeve of his robe.

Several minutes of silence passed by, during which Harry tried to understand the meaning of the words. The Headmaster sighed deeply, then broke the silence. “In an ancient legend handed down since ages ago, it's said that something known as the Arcane Path may lead to the Rebirth Flame. It's also said that whomsoever succeeds in finding the Arcane Path will be able to defeat death. They are warned, however, for no one in the memory of all wizards has ever managed to walk the Path, and come back to tell us of it. Last but not least, whoever reaches for eternal life must perform an extreme sacrifice. He'll have to leave behind that which he holds most dear.”

Harry listened in disbelief, doing his best to remember every detail.

“I can tell you that the Arcane Path isn't legend anymore. As per the prophecy you've just heard, and the various clues we've collected, it seems that Voldemort is the only wizard in all of history to have succeeded in finding the Rebirth Flame, thereby gaining immortality. I can't tell you how he did it, or what he sacrificed. I simply do not know. But I do suspect that this all happened immediately after he left Hogwarts as a student and before he publicly assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort.”

Harry's mind was crowded by unending questions. One of them however was already tormenting him like some evil insect. “Sir, the second part of the prophecy... the part that talks about Voldemort's enemy...”

“Yes. It is exactly what you think,” Dumbledore cut him off. On his face was a mixed expression of sympathy and compassion. “The second part of the prophecy talks about you.”

Harry was beginning to feel more and more confused. “But then, what does it mean that I'll rise again from ashes, and that I'll change the destiny of everyone? I... I don't understand.”

“Only time will give you the answer. The interpretation of a prophecy may change depending on how events unfold in our lives. The most important thing now is to succeed where no one else has ever succeeded before, apart from Voldemort. We need to...”

“... find the Arcane Path.” This time, Harry cut Dumbledore off, finishing the sentence for him. The desire to fulfill his destiny was already burning in his heart.

“Well said, Harry!” exclaimed the Headmaster. His eyes twinkled for a brief moment then his expression became grave again. “It is extremely important to find the Path soon. Only after having found the source of Voldemort's dark power will we be able to defeat him. It's now only a fight against time. I'm sure that he already knows about our plan. Tonight's attack is the confirmation. Voldemort wants to know what we've discovered and how far we've proceeded with our research.

“You'll certainly understand, Harry, that because of your connection with Voldemort, I can't tell you all of the details now. But I can say that we're at a good point and soon you will come to know everything. I just ask that you keep our conversation secret and to be always on guard. As I told you before, Hogwarts isn't safe anymore, for any of us.”

*** END OF FLASHBACK***

Harry rolled over in his bed, then stopped to stare at the ceiling. After this revelation, his life had become even more complicated. Now, his future was dependant upon the fulfilment of two different prophecies; neither left him any choice. Finally, he knew what they needed to do to defeat Voldemort. But at what price? How much was he going to suffer and how many friends was he going to have to sacrifice?

Before closing his eyes again, the last sentences of the second prophecy came up in his mind.

“The Dark Lord's enemy will rise again from his ashes,

Like the most noble of the Phoenixes,

And will change the destiny of everyone,

But only on the condition that courage is not lost along the way.”

“But only on the condition that courage is not lost along the way,” he kept repeating to himself before falling asleep.

***O***

The following morning, Harry was late for breakfast. It was a Saturday and he had no classes but he had to rush to the Great Hall as he did every morning as breakfast would be over soon. His hope to meet Hermione melted away after a quick look at Gryffindor table which was already almost empty. There was only a small group of first and second year students.

Feeling his heart heavy, Harry slowly moved to his seat, dragging his school bag along with him. Before coming down, he quickly visited the library to search for Hermione. Unfortunately, she wasn't there. Under Madam Pince's enquiring eye, he had to justify his coming, so doing his best to look as natural as possible he walked along one of the shelves of books on legends. Thinking again to the past night's revelations, he took a chance and grabbed a couple of books he hoped might provide more information about the Arcane Path.

The ceiling in the Great Hall was filled by grey clouds. Harry poured some hot tea, lifted the cup to his lips and drank a few sips, being careful not to get burned. By now, the small group of first year students had left the table. Harry followed them with his eyes until they exited the hall. When he turned to look to his right again, he realized that Jane was sitting at the opposite end of the table and was staring at him intensely.

Harry froze with his cup in midair. His mind immediately flew to the events of the previous night. In a flash, he saw himself again sitting by the fireplace in the common room as he held Jane in his arms. He felt his cheeks warm up and turned his gaze away, embarrassed. How was he going to behave around her? They hadn't done anything bad after all, even though he still had not resolved the situation with Hermione. But still, there was the fact that Jane was hiding some secrets.

He was sure now the little girl with green eyes was none other than her. But what were her true intentions? Was she a spy for Voldemort, come to Hogwarts to check on him and report news to the enemy? Or maybe her task was to gain Harry's trust and then betray him? Someone had broken into McGonagall's office. It could have been anybody, but Harry was starting to get suspicious of Jane and Theo, especially after the recent events.

Harry turned again toward the girl and horrified, he saw that she had stood up and was now moving toward him. In instinct, his right hand flew under the table, searching for his wand.

Jane was getting closer and he didn't know what to do yet. Should he be polite with her, or brief and leave her there without any explanations? When she was finally in front of him, their gazes met.

“Good morning, Harry,” she hesitated, with a slight smile on her face. “I wanted to... I just wanted to ask you how you were doing.”

“Fine,” he replied seriously.

“You know, after what has happened yesterday, well, when I saw Hermione I felt so bad I just wanted to die. I can imagine what she thought about us, but I hope that you explained to her that we...”

“Unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to talk to her yet,” Harry cut her off. “Anyway, what's going on between me and my girlfriend isn't any of your business.”

Jane was hit by the coldness of his words and hesitated before speaking again. “Sure. It isn't my business. It's just that, well... I don't want to be the reason for any trouble between you two, that's all.”

“It's perfectly fine.” Harry swayed his gaze and started gathering all his things. “I'm sorry, but I need to go now. Homework...”

Harry stood up and slung his school bag over his shoulder.

“See you around then,” whispered Jane unenthusiastically. Harry waved his hand in response and without saying anything else, he walked away.

Jane remained there, watching him as he exited the Great Hall. On her face, it was possible to read a great sadness.

Did she really believe that I was going to greet her with open arms? Harry asked himself, walking toward the gardens. After all the troubles that she's caused me and Hermione?!

Harry conveniently forgot that it wasn't entirely Jane's fault. He wasn't entirely without blame either. After all, he was the one who broke his promise to stay away from Jane.

And then, there still was the fact that Jane's intentions weren't clear yet. It's best to keep her at a distance... at least until I know something more about these odd dreams I'm still having.

Walking outside, Harry breathed in deeply the fresh air. Winter was getting closer and the mountains at a distance were already painted with snow. The sky promised rain and the rays of sunlight struggled to filter through the grey clouds. Harry looked around. A few small groups of students were chatting here and there in the gardens; others were quietly walking toward the lake.

Suddenly, he saw something that stunned him. He blinked several times, hoping it was just his imagination. He moved a few steps closer to see better. A short distance away, right under the great beech tree, Hermione and Theo were chatting pleasantly amongst themselves. They looked rather involved in the discussion and she often smiled at him.

Harry hid behind a column and stared at them for a while. In his heart, he felt rising a strong feeling he'd almost forgotten: a crazy jealousy, strong enough to make him feel sick.

At one point, Theo said something funny and Hermione burst into laugher. Without realizing it, Harry tightened his fists in anger until he actually hurt himself. All the while, the desire to rush over to them and teach Theo Mustle a lesson was growing inside him.

“Hey, where have you been?” Ron's voice made him jump. “I've been looking for you forever. Can you tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Shhhh,” Harry hissed at him and pointed his finger at the couple not far from them.

“Bloody hell! Hermione has gone mad!” Ron commented as he stared at them, surprised. “Of all the seventh year students, she really had to choose to become friends with that show off?”

Ron joined Harry behind the column and stood there, watching Theo and Hermione attentively.

When the two finally separated, Hermione headed back toward the castle while Theo headed to the lake. As soon as she was a few steps from Harry, he left his hiding place and jumped in front of her, frightening her.

“What the hell were you doing?” shouted Harry, feeling his blood boiling in his veins.

After a brief moment of uneasiness, Hermione quickly regained her composure. She turned her gaze away from him and walked past him, replying with a cold, “none of your business!”

“YES, it is my business!” Harry shouted again, barely holding back his anger.

Hermione stopped abruptly, sighed deeply, then slowly turned to reply to him. “For your information, no one can force me to tell you what I do or don't do in my free time... least of all you, after your little display in the common room last night.”

All of the words Harry wanted to say to answer her back died on his tongue. Feeling guilty, he changed his tone. “You should be careful. I don't at all trust Theo Mustle.”

Hermione stared intently at him. “I'll keep that in mind. Are you finished?”

“No! We need to talk,” he begged.

“We have nothing to say.”

Harry stepped toward her, desperately hoping to change her mind. “I'll speak then, but please listen to me.”

Hermione looked away and folded her arms on her chest, waiting. Harry gathered his strength and went on. “It isn't like you're thinking. There's absolutely nothing between me and Jane. Last night I saw her and Theo leaving the Great Hall during the feast and I had the silly idea to follow them. I just wanted to find out what they were up to.”

“I hope you satisfied your curiosity,” Hermione replied sarcastically.

“Yes... I mean, no! Well, when I entered the common room, I found Jane all alone and I thought it would be useful to ask her a few questions. I asked her about her family and then she burst into tears and I...”

“Of course! How stupid I am, not realizing this before,” laughed Hermione hysterically. “I almost forgot that you have a certain preference for girls who burst into tears in front of you.”

Harry felt deeply wounded by those words. “You know that isn't true.”

Hermione turned serious. “Listen to me, Harry. I need some time. I need to think it over...”

Harry felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach. “Think what over? Over us?” he asked in a whisper.

“I suggest you think it over as well,” she went on, not directly answering his question. “You need to find some clarity as to what's in your heart, once and for all.”

“Everything is clear in my heart.”

“Oh, Harry please, I'm not stupid. You can't ask me to pretend that nothing has happened. I know perfectly well what's going on... maybe better than you do. There is something in that girl, and it's driving you crazy. This whole thing has become a total obsession for you and I can't handle it anymore.” Hermione felt a painful knot rising in her throat. “That's why... I think we should take... we should take a break. Whenever you need me, I'll be always ready to help you, as a friend. But, anything more...” Doing her best to hide her emotions, she raised a hand to her mouth and lowered her eyes to the ground.

“I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't want it to end like this, I didn't...” She suddenly turned on her heel and ran away, unable to even finish the sentence.

Harry stood there, speechless. He watched Hermione climb the stairs and enter the castle. It was as if his heart had been crushed by a huge boulder. In one second, his entire world had shattered into pieces. He felt lost and filled with sorrow, unable to take the reins of his life in his hands and go on.

I destroyed everything. It's all my fault, Harry kept repeating in his mind, only managing to hurt himself even more.

He then felt the light weight of a hand on his shoulder. It was Ron. He had witnessed the scene, but stayed back. The two best friends looked at each other without speaking a word; there wasn't any need to. Both were sharing the sadness of another painful defeat.

***O***

Since that sad Saturday in the beginning of November, several weeks passed by. During this time, Hermione did her best to avoid Harry and Ron. For their parts, the two boys never tried to approach her, respecting her desire to be left alone. Despite this, Harry didn't know how much longer he would be able to continue on like this.

As before during their earlier difficulty, Hermione again started to spend more time with Lavender Brown. The two girls always sat at the same desk during classes and in the Great Hall for meals. Causing great worry for Harry, Hermione had also taken the habit of spending a lot of time with Theo Mustle. Between lessons, he often saw them together in the library or outside on the castle grounds.

To be sure, they had many things in common. They were both excellent students in every subject and they were usually in competition with each other to be the best one exams. Harry didn't like the situation at all; he felt his jealousy beginning to growing more and more, like a fire under the embers, ready to burst out at any moment.

On Friday evening, Harry was having his usual private lesson with Magnus Erudio in the Defence classroom.

“You're not concentrating enough!” Erudio's voice made Harry jump. He opened his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time. He'd been sitting on a short stool in front of his teacher for hours, forcing himself to calm his mind and break through the veil of time and space.

“You need to cancel every thought, every feeling. You have to unite your soul with your mind. This is the only way to perceive even a glimpse of future events.”

“I'm trying to do my best,” Harry replied, forcing himself to remain calm even though he was starting to lose his temper.

“It's not enough trying! You must do it!” Erudio scolded him.

Unwillingly, Harry closed his eyes once more and began to concentrate again. The darkness of his closed eyes that he saw remained exactly the same, until the images of Hermione and Theo forcefully appeared in his inner sight. They were walking together, close to each other. Harry shook his head to erase the hated image and put his hand on his forehead which was now throbbing painfully. “I-I can't. I'm sorry...”

Erudio looked deeply disappointed. “It's not good, boy. No, not good at all. You're too distracted. You need to push away every thought... free the mind.”

Harry smiled bitterly in resignation. “I've never been good in Occlumency.”

“Ah, we both know that,” Erudio mocked him. “But this is different. Here you don't have to protect your mind from external attacks. This time, you need to protect the mind... from yourself.”

Harry didn't fully understand the meaning of his words but nodded just the same, not wanting to look any more incompetent that he already felt.

“Let's try one last time, will you? I'll do my best to help you using my inner energy.”

The warlock closed his eyes; Harry did the same. Once more, his mind wandered among several thoughts and feelings. The faces of Hermione and Theo were again floating in front of his inner sight, almost like soap bubbles. Then, something strange happened. Everything disappeared and Harry found himself walking along a shining corridor. He tried to open his eyes; when he did so, he felt as though he'd just woken up from a dream, but he wasn't in the Defence classroom anymore

He looked around, finding himself standing on the Hogwarts grounds, not far from the main castle entrance. It was night, the light of the full moon shone everywhere; he was completely alone. The sky was clear, cloudless. The air was very cold and the ground covered with snow.

Everything was quiet and silent. Then suddenly, he heard the sound of a terrible explosion as the ground shook. Unprepared, Harry lost his balance and fall backwards onto the snow. When he looked up, he felt blood freeze in his veins. In the dark sky, right above his head, a menacing green skull with a snake in its mouth was shining. It was Voldemort's Dark Mark.

With his scar burning like fire, he was barely able to stand up as he shivered in the cold that penetrated him to the bone. Harry folded his arms across his chest to try to stay warm as his teeth began to chatter. He didn't even have time to react before hundreds of dementors began to fill the sky, ready to attack; even more were still coming. Harry began to slowly move backwards before he realized that the awful creatures had stopped in midair, as if waiting for a signal.

His scar throbbed once more and he shouted in pain. Then he saw him. Lord Voldemort was coming out of the Forbidden Forest. Around him was a crowd of hooded Death Eaters.

Harry felt the panic rising in his heart. He looked for his wand in his trousers pocket, but couldn't find it. Voldemort was now only a few steps from him, glaring at him with his evil, red eyes.

Harry felt his fear taking advantage over him, preventing him from reacting or even thinking. His mind was stalled. Abruptly, he felt an unbearable pain in his chest and clutched uselessly at it to try to regain his breath. He closed his eyes, fully expecting to die at any moment. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the Defence classroom. In front of him was Magnus Erudio sitting at his desk with a grave expression on his face.

Both wizards remained in silence for several minutes. The only audible noise in the room was Harry's strenuous breathing.

“I've... I already had this vision some time ago,” Harry said when he was able to speak again. “It's... it's going to happen soon?”

Erudio nodded. “Sooner than you can imagine,” he replied. On his forehead appeared a wrinkle of pain.

Harry felt his heart gripped by fear. “Is there something... anything we can do to prevent this?”

“Nothing, I'm afraid,” was Erudio's merciless answer. “Even if we're able to catch a few glimpses of future events, we're not allowed to interfere with them. This is the curse of all seers.”

Harry turned away as his fists tightened in anger. “What's the point of it then? I thought that by knowing the future I would be able to try to change things if they were bad!”

“You see, Harry? By now you should have learned that in our visions we only witness brief moments of the future. They are just flashes that enable us to realize what may happen, but we don't get the entire picture,” Erudio calmly explained. “In your vision today, you witnessed a possible attack on Hogwarts. But you don't know what will be the events that lead to that attack and what will be the consequences. In my modest experience, I can tell you that nothing happens purely by chance.”

“You knew, didn't you?” asked Harry abruptly. “You've always known. You already know the fate of each one of us. Mine as well...” he added, then regretting having said it.

Erudio remained in silence as if he was deciding how to reply. “My only job is to guide you along the way and to show you the entrance. But you are the only one who can take the last step. You're the only one who will able to open the door and find the answer to your questions.”

Silence again fell upon the room. Harry was still thinking about the importance of the vision he just had when the warlock slowly stood up, finding support on his staff. “It's now time to go to bed, boy.”

Without waiting for a reply, Erudio started to walk away from his desk when Harry stood up and stopped him. “Please, just tell me if Dumbledore knows.”

Still facing away from him, the warlock replied in a whisper. “I can only tell you that all that was needed to be done, has been done. Now, we will have to wait and be ready to fight.”

With these last mysterious words, Erudio left the room leaving Harry with his own uncertainty and fears.

***O***

Gryffindor's common room was crowded. Professor Snape had assigned a difficult essay to sixth and seventh year students; they were to have it ready for the following morning.

List all of the ingredients for the Invisibility Potion and explain why it's so difficult to find them. Indicate in detail how to prepare the potion, as well as the antidote for it.

Everybody was buried deep in their books, trying to write something resembling coherent that might be accepted as good by their intransigent teacher.

Sitting alone at the only tiny table left free, the one farthest from the fireplace, Harry and Ron were consulting some ancient manuscripts. The two friends had the chance to speak several times in the past few days about what Dumbledore had revealed about the Arcane Path and about Erudio's worrying words.

They knew the Headmaster wasn't going to tell them the entire truth, which was why they finally decided to work hard and find as much information as possible about the subject. They knew full well they had no time to waste and that their destiny could very well be waiting for them just around the corner.

Snape's essay could wait.

That evening, despite all of their efforts, none of the books they had taken from the library contained any useful information. It didn't really matter anyway as Harry's attention span was lower than it had ever been in his entire life. The entire evening he just stared at Hermione and Ginny, who were sitting by the fire on the other side of the room. Both girls looked deeply concentrated on their discussion, and to keep anyone from listening to them, they kept whispering in each others' ears, further piquing Harry's curiosity.

What the hell are those two talking about? he asked himself, lost in thought.

“And this was the sixth useless book tonight,” complained Ron, closing a large, old tome that kicked up a grey cloud of dust. “I didn't find even a single word about the Arcane Path or Rebirth Flame. Well, actually, in The Guide to Legendary Legends there was a detailed list of all known mountain troll hunting paths, but I don't believe those are connected to the Arcane Path Dumbledore was talking about, are they?”

“Yeah, of course...” replied Harry absentmindedly, still concentrated on Hermione and Ginny who were writing a few notes on their sheets of parchment.

Ron frowned at his best friend. “You should do something to get back together. It's almost been a month that this crazy thing has been going on. I had even a row with Luna because of you.”

Harry sighed deeply, not looking away from the two girls. “Yeah... of course...” he replied again.

“Are you even listening to me or what?” Ron raised his voice, attracting the attention of the other students.

Finally Harry shook out of his numbness. “What are you shouting for?” he asked, shooting nasty glances at the curious who were still staring at them.

“Hey, you've finally come back to earth at last!” Ron exclaimed, impatient. “As I was saying, Luna won't go out with me anymore until I convince you to make peace with Hermione. She says she's doing it for female solidarity.”

Harry frowned at him. “Well, you should tell Luna that my love life is none of her business!”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Why don't you just go to Hermione and apologize to her, once and for all? I can't stand this situation anymore... not talking to her about everything you should be telling her.”

“Do you think it's easy for me?” Harry asked, losing his temper. “Do you think that she would care about me and my problems? You heard what she told me. She needs time to think it over.”

“Yeah, but she also said that she would always be ready to help you, whenever you need her help. We're not going to solve it like this. We've been turning the library upside down and still haven't found anything useful. Come on mate, this would be the best excuse to reapproach her.”

Harry turned to Hermione once again and his eyes darkened with a veil of sadness. “I know. But I don't want her to come back to me out of sympathy or just because she feels pity for me.”

“Well, we've been through worse things than this,” Ron said, indicating their separation. “Besides, I'm sure Hermione would be glad to know everything. She still loves you. Never forget that.”

Just then, Theo Mustle entered the common room through the Fat Lady's portrait. Harry's eyes followed him as he went up to Hermione and exchanged a few words with her. In his heart, he started to feel the fire of jealousy rising again.

Ron was observing the scene too. “Oh, don't pay attention to him. Hermione just wants to make you jealous, that's all. She wants to prove to you how important she is... to you.”

Hermione stood up, waved at Ginny and followed Theo out of the common room. After a minute or so, Harry couldn't stand it anymore. He stood up so quickly that his chair fell over with a loud thud. He could feel the eyes of everyone directed at him, but he didn't care.

“Harry? Please don't be stupid. Come back!” Ron's voice sounded like a far away echo. Harry was already out of the common room and was running along the corridor, but unfortunately there was no trace of Hermione or Theo.

He turned a corner and bumped into Dean and Lavender. “Hi, Harry.”

“Have you seen Hermione? She should have passed by here a few seconds ago,” he asked, panting.

“Yeah, she was with Theo,” Dean replied quietly. “I think they were headed for the library, but... Hey, what's going on with you?”

Not waiting for Dean to finish his sentence, Harry started running for library. He stopped by the entrance to regain his breath, straightened his uniform, and the went inside.

There weren't many students there as it was just about dinner time and most of them were heading for the Great Hall. Harry slowly moved among the tables and tall shelves of books, under the strict, watchful eye of Madam Pince who was sitting at her desk by the entrance.

Then he saw her. Hermione was sitting at one of the last tables, skimming the pages of a book; she was alone. Harry looked around, searching for Theo, but he wasn't there.

When he finally reached her, she lifted her head and both of them were finally eye to eye.

“Harry!” exclaimed Hermione.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“Oh, nothing... nothing at all. I was just having a look,” she replied, a bit too nervous. “What's happened? Something serious?” she asked, slightly worried.

“Do I need something serious to be able to talk to you?” shouted Harry, arousing Madam Pince's indignation, who shot a nasty glance at him.

Hermione looked around, then lowered her voice even more, forcing Harry to come closer. “You know perfectly well what I'm talking about.”

In that moment, Theo Mustle returned from the Ancient and Modern History of Magic section, holding several huge books in his arms. He moved toward Hermione and placed the heavy books on the table.

“Hi, Harry. Nice to see you around here.”

“Anything against me talking to Hermione?” asked Harry threateningly.

Theo looked surprised and his eyes jumped from Harry to Hermione and then back to Harry. “Well, of course not. We were just doing our research. I didn't know this was causing any trouble.”

“The only one here with trouble... is you!” Harry exclaimed, challenging him. “And your troubles started when you had the bright idea to steal my girlfriend!”

“Harry, please stop it!” Hermione warned him. “Theo is just trying to help me, that's all.”

“He's helping you to do what? Tell me!”

“Silence over there! I remind you that you're in a library and not Diagon Alley,” Madam Pince scolded them.

Not paying attention to the warning, Harry went on. “Tell me, Hermione. Have you had enough time to think us over? Or have you been too busy with Theo lately?”

Hermione was about to reply, but Theo did first. “If you want to have an argument with someone, then have it with me. Leave Hermione out of this.”

“Don't tell me what to do!” Harry shouted, his heart beating madly in his chest.

Madam Pince stood up and quickly walked toward them. “Out of my library!”

Despite the librarian's orders, neither boy moved. They stood there, one in front of the other with their fists up.

“Harry, Theo, that's enough now,” Hermione said as she set herself between them, doing her best to avoid a fight.

Harry was furious. The thought that Hermione was at Theo's defence Harry felt was the craziest thing in the world. Without thinking first, he threw himself at Theo and punched him with all of his strength.

Soon, they found themselves rolling on the floor, taking with them tables, chairs, and several shelves filled with books, all under the astonished stares of those present.

“Harry, no!” shouted Hermione desperately.

“Potter, Mustle! Stop it immediately or I'll send you to the Headmaster!”

It appeared as though Theo was doing his best to not fight back. He kept taking the blows, even though he was bigger than Harry. “I'm warning you. Don't force me to hurt you.”

“You couldn't if you tried,” Harry answered him back, before punching him right in the nose. “You're just a coward!”

Theo covered his bleeding nose with his hand. “That's enough!” he shouted, lifting Harry bodily and throwing him to the floor. Then he sat over him and tightened his strong hands around his throat.

Harry desperately tried to get free, struggling to regain his breath, but Theo's hands were strong and had vice-like grip.

“I told you to stop it!” shouted Madam Pince again, pointing her wand at the boys, ready to cast a spell against them.

Then, something happened. Something great in magnitude, but at the same time, terrifying.

Harry felt his body becoming very warm, as if it was enveloped in fire. He felt inside the energy emanating from those flames, which began to give him more and more strength. Theo quickly became aware of the change in Harry and bewildered, he suddenly let go as if he'd just burned his hands.

Wanting to hurt him badly, Harry stretched out his arms toward Theo and with all the strength he was felt inside, he shot a surge of shining light. Everybody watched the scene horrified as Theo was surrounded by fire. He ran to towards the other side of the room, then fell to the floor unconscious.

Come on, finish him! an evil voice echoed in Harry's mind as his scar started throbbing painfully. I know you can do it. What are you waiting for? Finish him!

“Noooo, go away!” shouted Harry with all the breath he had left in his lungs. “Leave me alone...”

When Harry came back to his senses, it was like waking up from one of his terrible nightmares. He looked around, panting, then raised a hand to his lips which were pouring blood from his fight with Theo.

All those presents were standing there, their mouths wide open in shock. A group of students rushed to help Theo, who was still lying on the floor, his face and arms burned. Others, including Hermione, were still staring at Harry with horror in their eyes.

A terrible feeling of guilt invaded his heart. With great effort, Harry slowly stood up, staggering to regain balance. He felt all eyes on him. Horrified of what he had just done, he moved backward until he reached the door, then ran away, looking for a place where he could be away from everyone.

In all of the commotion, nobody realized that Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend Pansy Parkinson had been witness to the entire scene, hidden in a opening in the corridor. As Harry ran by them in his retreat, the pale face of Draco lit up with an evil grin.

***O***

Thousands of stars lit up the night sky. The light of the moon filtered in through the tall windows of the hospital wing, where everything was quiet and still. In one of the beds, Theo Mustle was lying, still unconscious. His head and arms were wrapped in clean, white bandages.

Sitting in a nearby chair, Jane Porter was staring at him, almost without blinking. On her face, sadness and worry. Suddenly, he moved his head and shuddered.

“Lily... where are you? Lily...”

Jane's eyes opened wide in disbelief of hearing him pronounce that name.

Called by Theo's voice, Madam Pomfrey came over to him and readjusted the bedsheets thoughtfully. “Come on Mr. Mustle, the worst has passed. The anti-scorching ointment I gave you will work through the night. Tomorrow morning, you'll be healed and lively, just as you were before.”

The ancient nurse then turned to Jane before leaving them. “Not more than five minutes Miss Porter, then you should go back to your house tower. And that's an order!”

“All right, Madam Pomfrey. Thanks.”

Once left alone again, Jane reached out her hand and sweetly brushed Theo's cheek. “Did you hear what she said?”

With a great effort, finally he opened his eyes. “I did...” he whispered. “How... how long have you been here with me?”

“Well, you've been sleeping for about three hours. But it's fine, as long as it helps you get better.” Jane looked at him tenderly. “You scared me. I wanted to be sure that you were fine before leaving.”

Theo smiled, thankful. A sad expression returned to Jane's face. She shot a glance over to Madam Pomfrey, who was busy at her desk writing down notes.

Without hesitating any further, Jane pulled out her wand from under her uniform and pointed it at the nurse. She then whispered a few magical words and Madam Pomfrey fell suddenly into a deep sleep, her head resting on her chest.

Sure not to be heard by another living soul, the couple started talking freely.

“We've done everything wrong!” Jane exclaimed, worried. “Our intention was to gain their trust, but look at what's happened instead. Now they hate us!”

“That's not true. Your parents don't hate you.” Theo tried to comfort her, but Jane looked discouraged.

“Harry keeps avoiding me as if I'm plagued with some fatal disease while Hermione thinks that I'm a rival or enemy to fight. And the time we have is running out.”

“Don't worry. We'll find a way to...”

“The only way I can think of is to talk to Harry and tell him the whole truth,” she cut him off. “We absolutely need to take the mission to the very end. I can't, and won't, leave anything unattempted.”

Theo's face became grave. “You know full well that you can't tell him the entire truth. The consequences would be disastrous. And that's not even taking into account that he won't believe you.”

“But what do we do now?” Jane stood up and started pacing the room nervously, wringing her hands.

“You'll see. We're going to figure it out,” he replied, doing his best again to reassure her. “You have to promise me one thing, Lily Jane. Promise me under no circumstances will you tell anyone our secret. No one should ever know who we really are and where we've coming from.

“But most important...” Theo said, then finished in a whisper. “Nobody must ever know that Harry and Hermione are your parents.”

Jane sat in silence, not looking at him. She then closed her eyes as a warm tear rolled down her pale cheek.

1

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(A/N: Hi there! I'm finally back from my summer holidays and thanks to my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr, I'm also ready to publish chapter 15 immediately. I wish to send a big thank you to DannyDin, IronChefOr, Sandra and Ocean who took the time to leave a review. Now relax and enjoy the new chapter. Love, Petronilla )

Chapter 15. UNITED AS ONE HEART.

Harry closed his eyes, forcing himself to not think about what had just happened that evening. For hours, he had been sitting under a large oak. At his feet, the grass glistened under the clear light of the moon. Over his head, a soft wind shook the long and knotty branches of the tree.

After running away from the library, he had wandered around the castle, looking for a quiet place to hide... far from everybody and everything. With trembling hands and his heart in turmoil, he had reached the seventh floor without realizing it. Walking in front of a large tapestry with Barnaba the Barmy trying to teach trolls to dance the ballet, the Room of Requirement came into to his mind. He walked up and down the corridor three times when a door materialized on the empty wall in front of him. Entering the room, Harry found himself in the Forbidden Forest. The moon and stars were shining in the sky, the trees surrounded him; everything emanated a halo of peace.

Amazed, he walked through the expansive forest. Sure that he was far enough from the entrance, he leaned back against a tree and collapsed into a sitting position, completely exhausted. The memory of what he had just done, and the realization of what he was nearly about to do, was unbearable for him. The sense of guilt tormented him.

The image of Theo lying down on the floor, unconscious and covered in burns, replayed again and again in his mind, without mercy. Each time, he thought about Hermione, about her horrified eyes; he felt himself to be the most pathetic human being in the world.

More than once, the idea of fleeing appealed to him... running away, leaving Hogwarts and his friend forever, living as an outcast, just like Mark Evans did many years ago.

Certainly this is what Voldemort expects me to do... choosing the easier path... running away like a coward, Harry said to himself. Far away from Dumbledore and from the ones I love.

After thinking about it, he realized that the only wise thing to do was to remain there and face the consequences of his actions. They would give him detention. In the worst case, they might even expel him. He knew however that his destiny was already set and his academic was no longer paramount.

Harry opened his eyes again. He felt agitated and confused. He looked at the sky and realized that it was probably really late. He stood up weakly, waited a few minutes there, then returned to the door in slow steps. When he closed it behind him, the door suddenly disappeared, camouflaging itself with the wall.

The corridors were deserted and most of the torches were extinguished. All around the castle, everything was silent. Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower without encountering anyone along the way. When he entered the common room, he saw the fireplace was still burning. He moved a few steps then froze, petrified from his surprise.

“Harry, you're back!” Hermione ran toward him and threw her arms at his neck, hugging him tight.

A tremendous feeling of relief and warmth he felt in his heart. Harry tightened his embrace as well, closing his eyes as he tasted that found-again feeling of endless sweetness... a joy that he thought lost forever.

“I was so worried about you,” said Hermione, moving away from him and staring directly into his eyes. “Ron and I have been looking everywhere for you. We even worried that something awful had happened to you.”

“I... I'm fine,” Harry stuttered, swaying his gaze from her. “I just needed to be left alone for a while, that's all.”

Hermione stared at him intensely, as if to make sure that he really was feeling fine. Then she held his hand and guided him in front of the lit fireplace. Both sat on the sofa, but Harry started feeling uneasy and moved his hand away, concentrating his gaze on the dancing flames.

“W-what happened after I left the library. Theo is... is he...?”

“They took him to the hospital wing,” Hermione promptly replied. “Madam Pomfrey has held him back for the night. Apparently, he has several bad scorches, but nothing that can't be fixed. He'll be fine.”

Harry nervously passed his hands through his hair. “I was nearly going to kill him...”

“You'd never have been able to do it.”

“And if I didn't stop in time?” he replied. “A monster! That's what I've become!”

“You can't be serious! You're not a monster!” Hermione held his face with both hands, forcing him to turn toward her. “It was just a bad accident. You didn't want to hurt him intentionally.”

Harry felt comforted by her words, spoken with determination. He felt as though he was beginning to resurface from an abyss. “Please, Hermione, promise me that we won't fight anymore,” he whispered, staring at her with tenderness. “Promise me that there won't be anymore misunderstandings between us.”

The girl smiled and her eyes lit with joy. “We've been two real idiots, haven't we? These last weeks have been hell, for both of us. We've wasted so much time, bickering. How could I've doubted you, even if only for a second?”

Harry felt his heart melting with love. He moved closer and hugged her tight. “I wish we could go back in time and not make the same mistakes. You're right, I've been a complete idiot. I got stubborn with this silly thing about the dreams, without realizing that I was pushing you away. We won't have any more secrets between us... none.”

Suddenly, Hermione became stiff and lowered her gaze.

“Is there something wrong?” Harry asked, worriedly.

She looked uneasy. “To tell you the truth, what happened in the library... it was only my fault.”

Harry smiled with sympathy. “You always want to be the saviour of the world, don't you?”

“This is nothing to laugh about. I'm serious!” she insisted.

Harry's face darkened. “You weren't the one who almost killed Theo Mustle.”

“I don't mean that.” Hermione sighed deeply, as if what she was about to say was the most difficult thing in the world. “Harry, listen to me. I know everything.”

His eyes widened, puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

“The Arcane Path! When Ron told me about it, I' started my own research and...”

“Hey, wait a minute. You're saying Ron told you everything, even though I asked him not to?” he cut her off, stunned.

“Exactly. In the beginning, he was waiting for you to personally tell me about this. But then he realized it was too important to not tell me everything.”

“So, for all these weeks, you've been doing research about the Path, without telling me anything?”

“And there's something else...” Hermione closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself before dropping the last bomb. “I... I asked Theo to help me with the research.”

“YOU WHAT?” shouted Harry, even more shocked.

“Please don't shout,” she whispered, looking around nervously.

“But... but... do you realize the danger we're running? Dumbledore made me promise to keep the secret, because we can't trust anybody here. Not even Hogwarts is safe now. And what do you do? You secretly go blabbing to HIM all of the Order's business? But how... what in the hell got into your mind?”

“I know, I know! It was foolish on my part... I'm realizing it just now,” explained Hermione, mortified. “But it was too important to find more information. Theo has always been a brilliant student and I thought he would be able to help us a lot. And also... I was so mad at you, that I wanted to make you jealous.”

“I can't believe it,” Harry whispered, resigned, raising his hands up to his head. “What did you tell him, exactly?”

“Don't worry, I didn't get into any details. I just asked him to help me with a special assignment for History of Magic, that's all.”

Harry was speechless. His heart was invaded by two different feelings, a mix of deep disappointment and resigned helplessness.

“Harry, listen to me carefully,” Hermione went on, with a grave expression in her eyes. “I've discovered several worrying facts about the Rebirth Flame. I can assure you that it's nothing that someone could face easily.”

Harry frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

Hermione sighed deeply and started with her explanation. “The Arcane Path, it isn't a physical path, like something one could easily imagine, nor is it a path like a series of actions to follow. In reality, it's a sort of inner journey, a transcendental way that leads to the purification of the soul, either into pure good or pure evil. It depends on whether the person who follows the path is moved by a good or a evil purpose.

The wizard who wants to attain the Rebirth Flame will have to find the Arcane Path inside of himself, and follow it making certain sacrifices. But the most worrying thing is that each sacrifice may mean losing a part of your own soul.”

Silence fell in the room. For a few very long minutes, Harry thought over the new information. He then recalled the last few words of the second prophecy.

“But only on the condition that courage is not lost along the way,” he whispered, his eyes unfocused in thought.

“What did you just say?” asked Hermione, even more worried.

“The second prophecy, the one Dumbledore told me on Halloween night. It was more or less like this:

“The Dark Lord's enemy will rise again from his ashes,

Like the most noble of the Phoenixes,

And will change the destiny of everyone,

But only on the condition that courage is not lost along the way.”

“As you can see, it's all a matter of courage,” he added, gloomy.

“You're saying that you're really going to try?” Hermione asked, stunned and upset.

“If it's the only way to defeat Voldemort...” Harry replied in resignation.

“But... but it's completely crazy! It'd mean facing certain death. No, you don't want to end like this, you can't...” Hermione couldn't find the courage to finish the sentence and remained there, staring at him with eyes wide open.

Harry didn't reply. He felt as if his heart was being pressed by a heavy boulder. He asked himself if he would be able to gather the courage to go on until the end. He asked himself if his sacrifice would be useful for the whole world.

Again, an awkward silence filled the room. None of them dared say a word. They stayed like this for a long time, hand in hand, their gazes lost in the flames in front of them.

Then suddenly, both of their attentions were drawn by a tapping coming from the window. They lifted their eyes and saw a large grey owl frantically flying outside, anxious to be noticed by anyone.

Harry rushed to open the window. The owl entered without needing to be asked. It made a complex arc close to the ceiling, then delivered a letter directly in Harry's hands. Its task complete, the magical creature quickly flew outside into the dark night.

The letter was from the Ministry of Magic.

Dear Mr. Potter,

It has come to our attention that last night, at 6:45PM in the library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you made an attempt to kill a Gryffindor student.

The seriousness of this act is exacerbated by the fact that it is not the first incident of such magnitude. During the summer previous on Privet Drive, in a Muggle residence and in the presence of more than one Muggle, you violated the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery.

It is important to note that if not for the intercession of our appreciated colleague, Albus Dumbledore, we would have, on that occasion, taken serious measures to prevent future recurrences.

I also wish to remind you that in difficult times such as those we are facing now, it should be our primary duty to set the right example for others and avoid engaging in such reproachable manifestations of Dark Magic.

For that reason, we deeply regret to inform you that because of your behaviour tonight, you hereby are to be judged by a Special Commission, which will join you at your domicile as soon as can be arranged.

In the meantime, you may consider yourself expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, accepting any and all consequences that result from this decision.

Hoping you are well.

Yours faithfully,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Office for Improper Use of Magic

Ministry of Magic

Hermione's face paled. “Oh, no. It's terrible!”

For his part, Harry didn't appear very surprised. He crumpled up the letter in anger and threw it directly into the crackling fire.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked, unable to hide her worry. Harry didn't say a word; he merely shrugged his shoulders.

“You mean you don't care?”

“I mean that I've had enough!” he shouted, closing the window with force that it rattled the panes of glass. “I've had enough of those people from the Ministry, and their rules! I've had enough of them always telling me what I can and can't do!

“Everybody thinks that the outcome of this war depends solely on me. `Potter is the Chosen One!' `Potter needs to get ready for his final battle with You-Know-Who!' But as soon as I make a single mistake, they're all against me.

“I'm not at the beck and call of the Ministry of Magic, I'm not their poster boy, to show to the enemy during the battle, and then throw away when I become useless!”

Hermione stared at him with comprehension. “I understand.”

“They want to expel me? Fine! I don't need to worry about school anymore!” added Harry, quickly moving toward the staircase.

“Where are you going now?”

“I'm going to bed. I need to catch up on my sleep anyway.” Harry stopped on the landing, then turned a last time. “One more thing. Since I've been expelled, I'm happy to say that I'm going to wake up late tomorrow morning, really late.” Finishing the sentence, he entered the boys' dormitory and slammed the door.

Once alone, Hermione turned sadly toward the flames. The letter from the Ministry had already become a bunch of dark ashes.

***O***

Harry had been staring at the ceiling for hours, lying on his bed. Around him, everything was silent. Dean and Seamus were deep asleep and had not even heard him enter the room.

My life is just like some sort of up and down swing, he thought, discouraged. One moment I'm happy, but then something bad happens and I'm falling again into a deep abyss. I just want it to all stop. I just wish I could change my life, right now.

Erudio's words returned to his mind. “My only job is to guide you along the way and to show you the entrance. But you are the only one who can take the last step. You're the only one who will able to open the door and find the answer to your questions.”

I'm the only one who is able to open that door, he repeated, trying to understand the meaning of his words. I'm the only one able to break through the veil of time and space. And why not... despite what Erudio said, maybe even be able to change the future...

Comforted by this thought, Harry closed his eyes and did his best to concentrate deeply, pushing out every worry from his mind. He found it extremely difficult. The harder he tried, the more his thoughts wandered restlessly.

“Damn it! It's impossible,” he said, punching his pillow. He then looked around, worried that he'd woken up his roommates. He realized that they were still asleep, however.

Disappointed and angry with himself, he turned on his side and closed his eyes again. I just want to be able to do something helpful. I'd like to know what's going to happen in my future, he kept repeating until the tiredness won over and he fell into a deep sleep.

Without even realizing it, Harry found himself wondering in the night along the streets of some ancient town. He knew this place; he'd seen it several times in his visions. The small buildings were dirty and broken, the street was ravaged and dusty. He was completely alone except for a couple of starved-looking cats that ran away, scared, as soon as he was within a few meters of them.

Then he saw her. A hooded figure, walking fast and doing her best to hide amongst the shadows. Curious, Harry hastened his walk to follow her and soon he realized that they were now taking an isolated path, moving away from the buildings. Soon, they found themselves in open countryside.

The constant hooting of owls and croaking of frogs was unnerving. Harry tightened his arms across his chest, feeling a deep cold that penetrated to his bones. He couldn't understand yet why he felt compelled to follow the hooded figure; it was almost as if there were some sort of magnetic force that drew him in.

The hooded figure reached a large house with a curious pointed roof and run-down windows. Harry had been following at a certain distance, hiding behind the trees from time to time to keep from being discovered. Suddenly, the figure turned towards him, taking him by surprise.

Harry was frozen in shock; it was a teenaged Jane Porter, looking exactly as she did at Hogwarts. But the odd thing was that even though he was only a short distance from her, she gave no sign that she knew he was standing in front of her.

This seems to be one of her memories. It's just like looking inside a Pensieve, Harry thought. Feeling more relaxed, he hastened his walk and was at her side.

Jane looked around, wary, then crossed through the broken gate, rusted from time. She then quickly headed up the main walk.

When Jane entered the house, Harry entered with her. The door led directly into a small living room, crowded with old pieces of furniture covered by patched bed sheets. Everything was immersed in twilight. A sour smell of mould forced its way through his nostrils.

“Madame Piccoli?” Jane called, moving with some amount of certainty through the mess; it obviously wasn't the first time she'd been there. “Madame Piccoli? Mum told me that you weren't feeling well. I wanted to bring you some Strengthening Potion.”

A few minutes of silence passed by, during which Harry looked around. The house seemed uninhabited for ages; spider webs went from wall to wall, covering chandeliers, wardrobes, and armchairs. Then, he heard the sound of steps coming from the upper floor... slow and tired steps, like those of an older person limping.

“Oh, it's you, my dear,” croaked Madame Piccoli. An ancient woman appeared at the top of the stairs, short and alarmingly thin. She had a wrinkled face and was wrapped in a patched, dirty cloak. “It's dangerous to walk at night. I suppose your mother would have told you that by now.”

The old lady descended the stairs, step by step. Jane moved closer to hold her arm as she showed her to one of the armchairs. She then took a seat on a nearby stool. “Ah, thank you so much, little dear. You're always so kind to me. But you need to promise that you'll go back home immediately, and that you won't stop along the way.”

Jane smiled, and her face lit up. Her beautiful green eyes shone of a unique light; Harry couldn't help by notice how he seemed drawn to those eyes. “I'm going right away, don't worry. But first, I need to be sure that you drink the whole potion.”

She withdrew a glass vial from up her sleeve and poured the contents into an old cup she found on a nearby table. She then handed the cup to the old lady who drank it greedily.

Harry remained separate from them by the front door, watching the scene like a detached spectator.

“I'm feeling much, much better now. It's always so difficult nowadays to find anything substantial to eat, especially at my age and with all the problems I have,” Madame Piccoli sighed deeply. She then stretched out her hand and brushed Jane's cheek in affection. “But I don't want to talk about me. You and your mother are my real guardian angels, the only friends I have left. There's so much suffering, so much hate in our world that I can hardly breathe. But having you close by, I'm able to still not lose all hope.”

Jane took her hand in hers. “You don't have to lose hope. Sooner or later, we'll find a way out of this hell we're in. I promise.”

“I'm sure of that, my dear. I'm sure of that,” Madame Piccoli repeated with sadness in her eyes. “If only your father hadn't have left us so many years ago. Believe me, things would have been much different, for all of us.”

Suddenly, the smile on Jane's face faded and her eyes sparked with interest. “Please, tell me something about my father. Tell me about when he was young.”

Without knowing reason why, Harry felt a certain curiosity in hearing about Jane's father. He moved closer to the two women to better listen.

The old lady drank another sip of the potion, then wiped her lips with her dirty sleeve and spoke again. Her eyes seemed lost in space. “I still remember when your parents got married. Your mother was so happy. Your father was so excited, he wasn't able to speak a word. It was a simple ceremony, but very sweet. There wasn't any other celebration afterward. Times were extremely dark and there wasn't much to celebrate. Nevertheless, they asked all of their dearest friends to be present.”

Madame Piccoli paused for a long few moments; Jane started to become anxious. “And then what happened?” After a moment of hesitation, Jane brought up a subject she had never dared ask before. “Do you... do you know why he left me and mum?”

The woman blinked several times as if she had not understood the question, but then began to speak. “Well, my dear, your father left many months before you were born. I know that if he knew your mum was expecting you, he would have remained here, fighting with us.”

Jane couldn't believe what she heard. “A-are you sure? I-I thought that...”

“Oh, I'm sure of it. Your parents got married in July, and in October your father left. You were born in May of the following year.” Harry noticed that Madame Piccoli was forcing herself to remember the dates, and was counting on her fingers. “I know, I know. Maybe you thought that it was all your fault that your father left, but it isn't. Of course it isn't your fault, my dear.”

Jane lowered her gaze. Madame Piccoli was probably right; she had always blamed herself.

“Oh, but surely you've spoken with your mum about this?” added the old lady.

Jane didn't dare look up; she lowered her voice. “M-mum never talks about Dad... she doesn't even want me to speak his name.”

Madame Piccoli sighed deeply, then a grave expression appeared on her wrinkled face. “The real reason is a mystery, even now. In the beginning, we thought that they had kidnapped him and were keeping him as a prisoner... who knows where. But then your Mum reassured us. She said that she had received a secret owl from him. However she never fully explained the reason for his departure, or how long his voluntary exile was going to last.”

“Then... that means that maybe Mum knew where Dad went,” Jane observed, shocked by this revelation. “And she didn't do anything to go to him and bring him back!”

“Do not judge your mother too sternly, my dear.” Madame Piccoli brushed Jane's hand in a motherly way. “She has suffered the most in this tragedy. Despite all that has happened to her and the many difficulties she has gone through, she has still been able to raise the wonderful daughter that you are, and make you a wise and smart young woman.”

A shadow of sadness appeared on Jane's eyes. “But then, what is the real reason Dad left us?”

The old lady spoke again, her eyes again lost in space. “If you want to know what my opinion is, I believe that the reason is directly connected with his last battle against... You-Know-Who,” Madame Piccoli, said, emphasizing the name. “I think You-Know-Who inflicted on him an indelible scar, a mark that would never heal. But I'm not talking about scratches on the skin, but rather scars he carried... on the inside.” As she finished, she raised a hand to her heart and her eyes widened.

Jane looked at her, puzzled. “W-what do you mean?”

Suddenly, Madame Piccoli covered her mouth with her wrinkled hands, as if upset with herself for what she'd just said. “N-nothing my dear. I didn't mean anything,” she stuttered, nervously.

“Please, I absolutely need to know,” Jane begged.

The old lady sighed deeply, then agreed to continue. “You're still too young,” she whispered, gently brushing her face. “You shouldn't torment yourself, thinking over past tragedies. The only thing I can tell you is that after his last battle against You-Know-Who, your father wasn't the same man anymore.”

Silence fell upon the room. The two women looked into each other's eyes for several minutes. Then, Jane was about to ask something else, but the question never made it out.

CRASH!

A sudden, violent noise of broken glass made them jump where they were sitting. A rock had just broken one of the windows.

“Ahhh!” Madame Piccoli shouted, terrified, while Jane stood up with her wand drawn. Simply out of instinct, Harry did so, ready to fight. From the broken window, it was possible to see several fires in the distance. A group of hooded people, wrapped in black cloaks, was dangerously marching toward the house.

“Run! Save yourself!” shouted the old lady.

“You know I'd never leave you here!” Jane replied, showing admirable courage even though her trembling hands betrayed her fear. “You have to come with me.”

“Don't be silly! I'd just slow you down.” Madame Piccoli tried to stand up, but her legs gave out and she fell on the armchair. She shot a quick glance outside the window, where the group of hooded people was marching closer and closer. “I'll stay here, to cover your escape. Come on, what are you waiting for?”

“I can't!” Jane insisted, unable to move as if paralyzed.

Harry felt his heart beating furiously in his chest as he watched the two women who were still arguing, wasting precious time.

Suddenly, the old woman grabbed Jane's arm, forcing her to listen carefully. “You must go and get help. Run to the neighbours... make them come here. They'll know what to do. You'll see, nothing bad is going to happen to me before your get back.”

“But...”

“I said go and get help!”

Though still hesitant, Jane finally agreed. “I'll be back as soon as I can,” she said and Madame Piccoli nodded, nervously. Then, the girl rushed to the back door, Harry following her like a shadow.

Once outside, they both ran as fast as they could, feeling their adrenaline spike and as their hearts beat madly. Harry could feel the muddy ground giving in under the weight of his steps and the cold night air freezing his lungs.

When they found themselves a fair distance from the house, almost to the edge of town, they heard a terrible explosion. Even from this distance, force of the blast knocked them face-first into the muddy ground. Harry got up and quickly turned around. He saw that Madame Piccoli's house had just been completely destroyed.

“Noooo!” shouted Jane, shocked. But there was that could be done.

In the sky above the ruins of the house, Voldemort's ominous Dark Mark shone.

“Noooo!” Jane screamed in a way that was horrifying to even witness. She covered her face with her hands as she sank to the ground, crying. Harry's heart was torn by sorrow. He asked himself what possible reason there could be for such senseless violence, such brutal evil. The memory of his parents' deaths, of Cedric's, Sirius's, Mark's, became almost unbearable. He just wanted to be able to help her, to let her know that he was there, and that he was suffering with her.

When he raised his eyes, he realized that the group of Death Eaters was now marching right to where they were lying.

There wasn't any more time to waste... they needed to run, immediately.

“Jane, Jane!” Harry stood up and called her name several times, but she couldn't hear. She was still sitting in the muddy ground, her face crossed by tears, her eyes open wide, staring at the Dark Mark in the sky. “Jane, we have to go now! They're coming. They're going to kill us!”

The Death Eaters were now only a few meters from them and Harry felt panic gripping his mind. They were out of time... death was imminent.

“JANE!” Harry kept shouting her name until he felt his strength starting to leave him. He fell to his knees, exhausted.

He then closed his eyes as he realized that everything around him was spinning. He felt wind ruffling through his hair, along with an unbearable sensation of nausea. When he opened his eyes again, he was lying in his bed at Hogwarts, safe at last.

Harry propped himself up with his elbows and with difficulty sat back against his pillow. His forehead was completely soaked with sweat and his hands were still trembling. It all looked and felt so real, he thought, feeling an odd pang in his stomach.

He turned to look out the window. White snowflakes gently and silently fell against the windowsill. Jane Porter, who are you, really? he silently asked himself, realizing once and for all that this girl and everything surrounding her had now became a true obsession for him.

In that very moment, on the opposite side of Gryffindor Tower in the girls' dormitory, Jane Porter had just dreamt the same dream. She had suddenly woken up with her heart in turmoil. After assuring herself that nobody had heard her shouting, she lie back down on the bed, unable to go back to sleep.

Since her first night at Hogwarts, Jane had been dreaming of scenes from her past. She relived the darkest moments of her life as an unarmed spectator, asking herself why such a thing was happening to her. But more than that, she didn't know that she had unconsciously been sending those same dreams to Harry.

Without knowing it, father and daughter had created an inner connection between themselves. There was no way to know if this unintentional joke of destiny would help unite their paths or part them forever...

1

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(A/N: Hi there! I hope you're having a lovely time during your summer holidays. I wish to send a big thank you to Destroyerdrt, Gracey, DeltaG, Yanckeeckick and to all those Anonymouses who've left their reviews, but not their name... Thanks to you all for still following my story! Another BIG thank you goes to my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr, who has been really good in editing the chapter. Now relax and enjoy. Love, Petronilla )

Chapter 16. THE FOG BEGINS TO CLEAR

That cold morning in late November, Hogwarts Castle woke up, covered in snow. The first rays of sunlight poured over the lawns all around, making them glitter as if sprinkled with diamonds.

Like every day, at the ring of the bell all of the students entered their classrooms, sat at their desks, and took out their books.

In Greenhouse Nine, a Herbology class had just started for the sixth year students. Professor Sprout was explaining the correct way to prune the African Carnivorous Carnations, arousing a certain uneasiness from a few girls from Slytherin.

Amongst the group of Gryffindor students, Ginny was following the lesson with deep attention. A short distance from her, Jane Porter wasn't anywhere nearly as attentive. Since arriving in the greenhouse with her classmates, she kept wringing her hands nervously, checking her watch every minute, as if waiting for something to happen soon.

“Once you've put on your dragon skin gloves, you must grasp the carnation's stem firmly, and cut the leaves a short distance from the root,” the teacher explained as she demonstrated also. “Of course, you must pay attention to not get stung by the poisonous thorns nor let the plant bite you with its sharp teeth.”

The carnation did its best to sink its toothed-mouth into Professor Sprout's arm, but the teacher casually brushed the plant away promptly, as if doing something ordinary like drinking a cup of tea.

Jane raised her hand.

“Yes, Miss Porter?”

“Well, I... I'm not... feeling very well,” she stuttered with a trembling voice. “I think, I think I have a fever.”

Professor Sprout locked the carnation back into its cage after fighting with it for a few seconds. The carnivorous plant absolutely did not want to go back in there. “Very well, very well,” she replied distractedly, not paying much attention to what Jane was saying as she was focused on the plant. “Miss Weasley, would you please escort Miss Porter to the hospital wing?”

Ginny nodded obediently, but Jane shot her a worried look. Her plan to leave the class didn't include witnesses. Nevertheless, she agreed to leave with Ginny, not wanting anyone to get suspicious of her.

Both girls wrapped themselves in their heavy cloaks and slowly started walking back toward the castle. The sky was covered with grey clouds that were promising another snowfall.

After a long silence, Ginny turned to her classmate, looking her over from head to toe. “You're pretty pale. It really looks like you're feeling sick.”

Jane didn't reply and kept walking with her eyes fixed to the ground. Her shoes sunk deeply into the fresh snow with each step, making the walk more difficult for her.

“I'm so sorry about what happened to Theo,” Ginny dared, a bit uncertain on whether she should bring up this subject with Jane. “I'm sure it was just an accident. Harry would have never harmed him on purpose.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jane replied quietly.

Ginny thought it safe to continue sharing her opinion. “Anyway, I don't think you should blame Harry for this.” She paused to check Jane's reaction, who was still staring at the ground impassively. “Theo certainly seemed quite interested in Hermione in the past few weeks. Any boy would have reacted as Harry did, seeing another boy going after his girlfriend.”

Jane didn't reply; she simply turned her face to the lake to avoid Ginny's look. “Actually, if you want my opinion, I think Theo has treated you pretty poorly. He's been leading you on! He made you believe you were his girlfriend, and then he started flirting with Hermione!”

This time, Jane stopped abruptly. She slowly turned to face Ginny and frowned at her. “Theo wasn't flirting with Hermione!”

Ginny was stunned by the determination she saw in Jane's furious eyes.

“Besides, you don't have any right to insult him like that. You don't know him as I do.”

Ginny showed a shy smile to try to lessen the tension between them. “Hey, I didn't want to offend anybody. We were just talking, that's all.”

“Then do your best to not talk to me in the future,” Jane replied firmly.

“Why don't you calm down?” Ginny was starting to lose her temper.

Both girls stared each other down for a few very long seconds. “Hey, wait a minute. You look a little too excited to have a fever,” Ginny insinuated. After all, growing up with Fred and George ensured she was not naïve. “Was that just some silly excuse to go find your boyfriend in the hospital wing?”

With a wand in her hands, Jane would have surely hexed Ginny into oblivion. Fortunately her instincts pushed her to react in a less aggressive way. She forced herself to keep calm and made sure to emphasize her next few words. “Theo is NOT my BOYFRIEND! And even if he was, you're the last person in the world I would tell!”

Jane then ran away toward the castle, leaving Ginny standing there, astonished.

***O***

That morning, Madam Amelia Bones, the Minister of Magic herself, arrived with a small delegation of Aurors and had immediately asked to meet Albus Dumbledore.

Shortly thereafter, Professor McGonagall began climbing the stairs of Gryffindor Tower to summon Harry. He knew that the time for him to be punished for his horrible behaviour had come.

With his heart beating madly in his chest, he was now standing in front of Dumbledore's office; he'd been there for a good quarter of an hour. Unmoving with his hand on the door handle, he was deeply concentrated trying to listen to the excited conversation going on inside.

Against any of his expectations, and luckily for him, Harry's regrettable accident in the library wasn't chief among Madam Bones' main concerns at the moment.

“... and then there are the attacks, the kidnappings, and murderers! The situation is getting more and more serious, and we at the Ministry are finding ourselves increasingly backed against the wall. The public demands we do something!” Madam Bones exclaimed, then stopped.

Harry couldn't resist his curiosity and bent down to peek through the keyhole. He saw the Minister standing by the lit fireplace, her face deeply worried. She was a middle-aged woman, broad, and with very short grey hair.

Sitting at his desk, Dumbledore was watched her peacefully with the look of someone having a pleasant chat with an old friend.

Amelia Bones readjusted her pointed hat which had fallen over to the side and straightened the monocle in her left eye. She then inhaled deeply, puffing up her chest, doing her best to regain her look of importance. “Now, I'm not saying we're on the verge of death just yet... No, we've sent out our best Aurors all throughout the country. We're hunting Death Eaters left and right. We've even managed to foil an attack on the Tower of London and another one at St. Mungo's Hospital, arresting numerous suspects we found nearby.”

“I'd dare say that you've sent them to Azkaban with too much haste, without any actual proof and without a regular trial,” Dumbledore added in an accusatory tone.

“Oh, you can be sure they're going to get their regular trial soon, if this is what is bothering you, Albus. Just as soon as we make sure they're harmless,” Madam Bones hurriedly explained.

Dumbledore was going to reply, but she cut him off. “It's just that... well, frankly I was expecting more support from your side. How could it be possible that you and the others from the Order of the Phoenix have not discovered anything useful for us? Something that we at the Ministry could use for...”

“We're working on it, Amelia, we're working on it. I can assure you of that. You know that we need time.” Dumbledore was trying to reassure her using his usual peaceful tone, but it seemed as though Madam Bones was immune to it as she raised her voice once more.

“Well, you're not working hard enough!”

For a fraction of a second, Harry saw Dumbledore's face become stiff. “Amelia, please don't add anything you might feel bad about in the future.”

“Oh, don't sell me one of your usual mystical sentences, Albus!” replied Madam Bones, forgetting every formalism as she caught her monocle which had suddenly jumped away from her face. “The Ministry is losing credibility. If we aren't able to react effectively, or at least give the impression that we're on the right track, it'll be truly the end for all of us. Yourself included!”

“What exactly do you want me to do, Amelia?”

“Well, we could solve the matter of Harry Potter for starters.”

Harry jumped in place when he heard his name. Dumbledore remained unmoved while Madam Bones started to nervously pace the room, leaving her monocle to hang free at last and rubbing her hands energetically.

“I know he's your favourite student and I realize that that boy has faced several... incidents during the past few years. But now the time has come for him to give us a hand. Harry Potter has confronted You-Know-Who more times than any other wizard in the world, always managing to stay alive, one way or another. Now, the magical community has placed its last hopes on him. Harry Potter has now become a hero, an example to follow.”

Madam Bones stopped abruptly and set the monocle back in her left eye. “But, instead of being thankful, instead of cooperating with the Ministry, he foolishly keeps landing himself in trouble, breaking the rules and putting his own school mates in danger!”

“He's just a boy...”

“Oh no, no, no, no. He's a man now!” the Minister corrected him. “You can't protect him forever. The time has come for Mr. Potter to assume his responsibilities and do his best to fight against You-Know-Who as an adult wizard.”

Harry felt his blood boiling inside. How dare she talk to Dumbledore like that! he thought, feeling the sudden wish to rush into the office and give that witch what she deserved.

“I have to deduce that this is the main reason you've expelled him from school. Your intentions are clear: you want to push Harry into taking a certain position that supports the Ministry's work.”

“I won't explain my reasons to you, Albus. You need only know that what I did, I did it for a noble purpose. I just wish that Mr. Potter would finally understand that every time he acts foolishly, the entire magical community is there, ready to watch and judge him. In short, we're expecting a lot from him and it isn't acceptable that he continually give the Ministry all of these headaches. As if we don't have enough troubles on our own...”

“As I've already told you, Harry is just a teenager. In my opinion, he's more mature than several other adult wizards I know personally. But he's still a boy, and most importantly, he isn't perfect, nor invincible. I wish to make perfectly clear this point.”

“I got the point, thank you Albus,” Madam Bones replied without hiding her disappointment. “But it's still my opinion that an anticipated apprenticeship in the Ministry wouldn't do any harm to him. Besides, it'd put him under a better light, amongst the entire magical world.”

“Please, Amelia, let me correct you. I'm sure that an anticipated apprenticeship in the Ministry of Magic would put... only the Ministry itself under a better light, amongst the entire magical world,” commented Dumbledore, letting slip out that he had perfectly understood the true intentions of Madam Bones. “In my modest opinion, the wiser thing to do for Harry is to complete his studies, here at Hogwarts.”

“Harry Potter isn't your exclusive property, Albus!” replied the ancient witch. Taken by her vigour, she didn't catch her monocle in time, and it fell again hanging along her robe. “You can't always make decisions for him. And, if you continue to stubbornly turn down my requests for cooperation with the Ministry, I'll be forced to take serious measures against you.”

With his hands trembling in anger, Harry grabbed the door handle more strongly, ready to rush inside if Madam Bones were to make good on her threats.

Dumbledore remained calm, and with an almost surreal coolness he expressed his thoughts. “I wish to remind you that Cornelius Fudge also has threatened me in the past, and it's because of his mistakes that you've now taken his place.”

Madam Bones mumbled something to herself, starting to pace the room again. “It looks like you're the one who is threatening me here,” she whispered, almost inaudibly. She realized that she might have just crossed the line with Dumbledore.

The Headmaster then spoke again as if nothing had just happened. “Regarding young Mr. Potter, you'll soon have the chance to talk to him personally, though I fear he may have gotten lost along the way, since I asked for him more than half an hour ago.” Dumbledore pointed his finger at the old hourglass set on his desk.

Harry couldn't hide himself any longer. He knocked on the door twice, then entered. Curiously, Madam Bones welcomed him with a large smile printed on her wide face. “Oh, our dear Mr. Potter. What a pleasure.”

Harry frowned at her, while whispering a nearly silent, “Morning.”

“Come forward, Harry. Minister Bones and I were just talking about you. Am I correct, Amelia?”

“Of course, of course!” she hurriedly replied. “But let's get to the core of the subject immediately. First of all, I wish you to realize, my boy, how much serious your situation is.”

The Minister then scolded him for a while, dwelling on the reasons why it was absolutely necessary for him to stay away from “Dark magic.” She also struggled to explain the need to know how to behave correctly toward his fellow school mates.

Harry listened to her without saying a word or letting slip out any emotion. Sometimes, he would shoot a few glances at Dumbledore, who kept staring at him wearing a disarming smile.

Madam Bones finished her speech with her offering to start an apprenticeship at the Ministry soon. “Healthy discipline and rigid rules, that is what you need. You could also easily realize your dream of becoming an Auror. So then, what do you think about my offer, boy?”

After a minute of thinking it over, Harry finally expressed his doubts. “Do you mean that I'm no longer expelled?”

Madam Bones' face lit up with a forced smile. “If you'd like to put the matter in that way... well, the answer is yes. You're no longer expelled.”

Harry wrinkled his forehead in confusion. “There is still something that I can't understand, I'm sorry.”

“Tell me, don't be afraid. I'm happy to give you all the information you need.”

“If I've committed such a reproachable action, to be judged by the Minister of Magic in person, why now are you offering for me to enter the Ministry? In short, it seems as if you're giving me a reward because I've done something bad.”

“Well, it won't be really a reward, really,” Madam Bones explained, showing a certain uneasiness. “The fact is this, Harry. Now that you've become of age, you have the duty to do something concrete to help the magical community, which has given so much to you during the past few years. Working for us, you'd officially represent the Ministry and you'd have at your disposal all of the most effective weapons and all the necessary help to fight against You-Know-Who.”

Harry forced himself to remain calm, even though he was tempted to raise his voice. “To tell the truth, I've always planned on completing my studies here at Hogwarts. After all, I can't really understand all of this sudden interest the Ministry now shows toward me.”

Madam Bones laughed nervously. “My dear Harry, I fear you're either too modest or you're seriously misinformed. Don't you realize how much popular you've become? After the return of You-Know-Who, you've been the only one who has managed to confront him and yet remain alive. Everyone loves you. They call you `The Chosen One.' And now that you've become of age, everybody at the Ministry would be pleased to teach you all the tricks of the job. You just have to accept my offer, that's all.”

Harry shot another glance toward Dumbledore, whose face had now became unemotional, like a wax statue. “I'm... I'm afraid, but I can't accept your offer. I'm sorry.”

Suddenly, the smile of Madam Bones faded away and turned into a grimace of disappointment. “And, could you tell me the reason why?”

“Well, first of all, I'm sure that at the Ministry you could count on the help of Aurors who are much more skilled than I am,” Harry promptly replied. “Second, I don't want to leave my friends here at Hogwarts.”

Madam Bones inhaled so deeply through her nostrils that she almost resembled Professor McGonagall when she was very, very angry. “I think I need to congratulate you, Albus. You've done a great job with Potter. You've finally managed to turn him into your own puppet.”

Harry couldn't stand this anymore. “How dare you!” he shouted, tightening his fists with rising anger.

“Harry, please. Self-control...” Dumbledore reminded him, but Harry didn't even give him a glance.

“The truth is that YOU want to make me into your own puppet,” Harry went on, doing his best to control himself, though not at all succeeding. “A puppet to pull the strings at your own pleasure, to show to the world in case of victory, or to blame in case everything went wrong.”

“That is not true!” exclaimed the Minister, trying to defend herself. “My only intention was to give you the chance to share in the victory of the magical war, fighting at the side of the Ministry. This is one of the main duties expected from an adult wizard.”

Harry didn't pay attention to Madam Bones' words and continued to express his differing of opinion. “Dumbledore has always taken care of me. He's followed me through out these past years, helped me when everybody was against me. He defended me. In the meantime, where have you been? Behind your desks, ready to pass judgment without knowing the facts.”

Madam Bones coughed nervously, rearranging her cloak. “I won't stay any longer. I won't let you treat me in this awful manner. Albus, I'm deeply offended. Mr. Potter, I'm deeply disappointed by your rude and insolent behaviour. Good day!”

Finishing her sentence, the Minister rushed to the door and left the room. When she slammed the door behind her, several bottles on the shelves rattled slightly and the ancient Headmasters in the paintings on the wall started whispering amongst themselves.

Harry and Dumbledore stared at each other for a few seconds in silence. Harry then lowered his gaze, realizing how much his clash with the Minister of Magic had certainly not helped his situation.

“Maybe, I shouldn't have...” he shyly admitted.

“You just expressed your opinion, nothing more,” the Headmaster reassured, looking at him with sympathy.

“Do you think the Minister is going to expel me again?” Harry added, lifting his gaze.

“Oh, I won't be worried if I were you. I know Amelia Bones pretty well and I know that she isn't the type of person to take back what she has promised.”

Harry nodded even if he wasn't feeling very encouraged. “It's just that, well, that offer to enter the Ministry so soon without having deserved it... well, it sounded more or less like, like she just wanted to use me.”

“I agree with you,” Dumbledore admitted with sincerity. “You see, at the Ministry, they need to understand that the most important thing is to be, not to merely appear. They're extremely worried to look bad in the eyes of the magical community. This way of thinking lets them analyze the situation without due discernment.”

The Headmaster slowly stood up and went to the stairs. “Well, now that this problem has been resolved, I wish to change the subject, if you'd agree. Could you maybe follow me upstairs, please? I'd like to show you one of my latest discoveries.”

Without making him ask twice, Harry was at Dumbledore's side. Shortly they were upstairs where there was a large, old telescope pointed toward the sky. On the nearby desk were lying several different sky maps which showed the night sky. Other maps showed the sun, the moon, and the planets.

Dumbledore approached his desk and indicated Harry do the same. “After a long discussion with Firenze, I became interested in doing a little research. Studying the sky maps dating fifty years ago, right around the time Voldemort became powerful the first time, I discovered that in a particular period of the year, between the winter and the summer solstices, seven planets in our solar system aligned in a particular position.”

The Headmaster pointed at one of his maps. This one represented the night sky; there were exactly seven planets set one behind the other, making a perfect line.

Harry observed with curiosity. “If I'm correct, this is Mercury. Then there is Mars, Jupiter, and... Saturn, yeah. The one with the rings. While these others are... are...”

“The farthest from the earth: Uranus, Neptune and Pluto,” Dumbledore added.

A bit ashamed for his rustiness in Astronomy, Harry cleared his voice and posed another question. “Do you believe there is a connection between this sky event, the Arcane Path, and Voldemort?”

“Well, I am not one hundred percent certain,” Dumbledore replied. “But it made me consider the fact that such an event had not occurred again since. And then, suddenly...”

The Headmaster stopped. He took another sky map from under another bunch of others, and unrolled it in front of Harry. “This is a more recent one. As you can see, right in these last few days, the same event is showing up again, just like fifty years ago.”

The second map was similar to the first one, with the only difference that one of the seven planets wasn't yet lined up with the others.

“The planet missing is Mars, the one associated with the Greek god of War.” Dumbledore lifted his eyes to the sky as a veil of worry descended on his face.

Everything suddenly cleared for Harry. “The winter solstice is coming. Soon, Mars will be lined up with the others planets, am I right?”

“Acute observation, Harry.” The two wizards stared at each other. “If there really is a connection between this planetary event and the Arcane Path, then we'll soon have confirmation of this.”

Hermione's words about what she had discovered came into Harry's mind. “The Arcane Path isn't exactly a real path, is it?”

“I'm glad to hear that you've done some research on your own,” Dumbledore commented. “It's true. The wizard who wishes to find the Arcane Path needs to search for it inside of himself. Of course, there is a certain ritual to be performed. And also, the wizard will have to sacrifice forever the three things most important to him.”

The subject was turning into something extremely complicated to understand. “W-what exactly would one have to sacrifice, in order to follow the Arcane Path?”

Dumbledore seemed hesitant to explain. “Well, it depends on the wizard, on what is most important to him in his life. Some people wouldn't give their wealth away for any reason in the world. Others wouldn't give away their jobs. For some, their friends and family, even their life with the ones they love. That is what they must sacrifice. The more difficult the sacrifice, the higher the reward of the Rebirth Flame will be.”

Then, the Headmaster stared intensely at Harry, with an odd, almost searching look. “I wish to make something clear with you, my boy. I didn't tell you about the Arcane Path in order to encourage you to seek it. It's an extremely dangerous mission this one. The final prize is eternal life, but at what cost? How much are you willing to lose?”

Harry was stunned. He had always thought that he, and only he, was going to personally fight against Voldemort in the end. After all, everybody was now talking about Harry as “The Chosen One,” the only one who was able to defeat Voldemort once and for all. There were two magical prophecies that confirmed this fact.

“But then, why...?”

“Do you want to know why I told you about the Arcane Path in the first place? Well, the answer is simple. I thought it important that I inform you about what we've recently discovered. It was your right to know where the Order stood with its battle against dark forces. I told you the Path existed; I didn't suggest you seek it, nor did I tell you how.”

Dumbledore set his hands on Harry's shoulders in a fatherly manner. “Accomplishing such a task, it's too dangerous for you. I would never have dreamed of asking you to make such a sacrifice, not even for one of the most noble causes in the world. Leave this task to someone else... someone with more experience and more years than you.”

Harry felt an awkward sensation in his heart. On one hand, he was suddenly relieved. But on the other, he was deeply disappointed. Dumbledore was telling him that he wasn't going to take part in the war, that he wouldn't have the chance to avenge his parents, Sirius, and all the other innocents who had lost their lives because of Voldemort.

The Headmaster spoke with a grave tone. “You haven't any reason to start research on the Arcane Path. Promise me that you won't take any rushed action and that you'll remain at your place, here at Hogwarts. In due time, both prophecies will be fulfilled and you'll have to face Lord Voldemort. But not now. Your moment will come, but only when you're ready.”

Harry nodded without any objection. Inside however, a difficult battle was waging.

“Tell me instead, are you still having your usual nightmares?” It looked like Dumbledore wanted desperately to change subject.

Still deeply wounded by the Headmaster's words, Harry moved toward the window. The sky was covered with large grey clouds; the rays of light barely filtered through them, causing the ground and the trees covered with snow to glow with an eerie light. “To tell you the truth, I've been having odd, recurrent dreams, since I've come back to school.”

“Dreams about Voldemort?” asked Dumbledore with a certain worry in his voice.

“Not about Voldemort, no,” Harry replied, still looking out the window. A murder of crows had just landed near Hagrid's hut, pecking away the snowy ground, in search of something to eat.

“It's about that new student, Jane Porter. It's crazy, I know, but the fact is that...” Harry hesitated, not yet certain to how explain the thing. “The fact is that every night I'm having dreams about her life. Just like when I entered into your Pensieve some time ago. I've lived again and again her childhood memories. I've seen the place where she grew up, I've met the ones she cared for.”

Dumbledore looked rather surprised. He joined Harry by the window, showing his uneasiness. “Did you recognize any members of her family?”

“No, nobody. I've just seen her with a few friends, and also... with a few enemies,” Harry replied, not wondering why the Headmaster was so interested about Jane's family. “From what I've seen, Jane has lived her life in a small magical community, a ghetto of Muggle-born wizards, always tormented by Death Eaters and dementors. I didn't know such a horrible place existed.”

“Please, go on. What else have you discovered?” asked Dumbledore, not hiding his interest.

“Last night, it was different. For the first time, I've managed to enter her memories personally and to live them, even if Jane couldn't see or hear me. It was as if I was really there, rather than just watching. I've heard a conversation with an old witch. They were talking about Jane's father. They talked about how he left her and her mother many years ago. It also seems that her father has fought against Voldemort many times. Do you know him? Perhaps was he a wizard from the Order of the Phoenix, just like my parents?”

Dumbledore sighed deeply. Then he replied, speaking slowly, as if it was very difficult for him to face this subject. “Jane Porter's past is extremely complicated. I'd prefer not to talk about this now. I hope that you'll understand.”

Harry nodded. “It's just that, well, why me? What's the reason for these dreams? What kind of connection is there between her and me?”

“You see, Harry, there could be many different explanations to your questions. The one that seems more reasonable to me could be the following. Jane Porter has suffered a lot during her life, almost like yourself. This fact has probably created a deep, subconscious connection between the two of you. It's a sort of call for help. But only you have been able to pick up on her call, reliving her suffering every night, in your own dreams.”

Dumbledore's words had a certain logic, and placed a different light one that odd situation. If the Headmaster was right, then it meant that Jane Porter was only another victim of Lord Voldemort, a girl to pity, not an enemy to fear. Was the answer really that simple? There was still something Harry couldn't understand, but what was it?

“If she openly asks for your help, then not deny it to her,” Dumbledore went on. “In this time in which hate and indifference seem to take over everything, it's our duty hold high the noble values of friendship, fellowship, and selflessness. Please, always remember this, Harry, even during the most difficult moments.”

“I will.”

Harry realized that talking with Dumbledore about Jane Porter had helped him to clarify things. From now on, he'd be less prejudiced against her, even if his instincts were preventing him from lowering his guard too much and telling his secrets.

After all, as Dumbledore had already told him, Hogwarts wasn't a safe place anymore, for any of them.

***O***

Magnus Erudio's office looked more eccentric than ever. The myriad of clocks hanging from the wall had now been moved to the side, replaced by a great number of Middle Age weapons, like ancient swords, harpoons, iron shields, all cleaned and shining as someone was going to use them very soon.

Jane's cadenced steps had aligned themselves to the annoying, synchronized ticking of the clocks. She was nervously pacing the room, tormenting her long hair by twisting it with her fingers.

Erudio sat quietly at his desk, his unmoving gaze fixed into space. “How is Theo?”

“I've just been with him until now. Madam Pomfrey will finally release him after lunch.”

“I'm very pleased with that. I strongly hope that from now on, he'll be more careful to not get into trouble again.”

“I hope so too.”

“Now, let's talk about what you've just told me. You said that since your arrival at Hogwarts, your nights have been disturbed by visions of your past.”

Jane didn't reply. She just nodded without stopping her pacing.

“This is very worrying, as I suspect that these visions have been caused by your closeness with Harry.” The ancient warlock stopped, thinking over for a second. “I wonder why you've waited so long before telling me,” he added, a note of disappointment in his voice.

Jane stopped abruptly, her eyes pointed directly toward the teacher. “I thought I could manage the dreams, and I didn't want to worry you more than necessary. But last night was different. Last night, I felt a presence. It was as if someone else was witnessing those events with me.” Jane lowered her gaze, worried. “What does it mean exactly that those visions have been caused by my closeness with Harry?”

“As you already know, your father isn't just an excellent wizard, he's also a Seer. He possesses an extremely powerful mind. If only he could take advantage of all of his inborn potentialities, he could easily become more powerful than Lord Voldemort himself!” Erudio placed a certain emphasis on his last sentence.

“I'm telling you this to make you understand how delicate our situation has become. You've inherited the same powers as your father, I suppose. When I let you come to the past, I knew that something extraordinary might happen, just by putting you two together.”

“You mean that without knowing it, Harry could have witnessed scenes from my past?”

“I'm telling you it is for certain, as I've just had confirmation of this. A few hours ago, the Headmaster had a very interesting conversation with Harry. Our boy told him exactly what you've just told me now.”

The girl's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. “But then, this means that he... that he knows.”

“Oh, do not fool yourself, Lily Jane. It's not that simple. Harry may have entered into your memories, but it doesn't mean that he has discovered your true identity. After all, he's still just a seventeen year-old boy. Suddenly realizing that he's face-to-face with his teenage daughter, well, I guess it wouldn't be very simple to accept. I strongly believe that the possibility hasn't even occurred to him, not even distantly.”

The smile on Jane's face faded away. “Anyway, I think that this problem of the dreams has complicated the situation just the same.”

“Not any more than I anticipated. I understand your great desire to find your father again, but that wasn't our only purpose here in the first place. Your task was to get Harry's attention, without revealing your true identity. Push him to let you into the circle of his closest friends, get him to trust you so much that he follows your suggestions. Despite the unforeseen events that have happened, the fact that he's continued to dream about you for almost three months should have aroused in him a certain interest in you. If nothing else, at least the curiosity to discover who you really are.”

“Then, I'll just have to go and tell him that...”

“Listen to me, Lily Jane. Harry hasn't learned to trust you yet. He's also a very suspicious boy. He's surely wondering what are your real intentions, wondering which side you're fighting for.”

“Well, if he has really entered my memories, he'll know by now how much pain Voldemort has caused our family and friends.”

“I strongly hope so, but I won't swear it,” Erudio replied.

“What shall I do now?” asked Jane, discouraged.

“First of all, you will have to practice Occlumency before going to bed. I know that it may seem difficult, but it's the only way to solve your dream problem. Doing so, your memories will stay hidden from curious eyes.

Jane felt it was going to be very difficult, though not impossible. She decided that she would do her best with the Occlumency.

“As for Harry, you'll have to do everything you can to watch over him, without letting him notice it. You'll have to follow him everywhere he goes. And when the time of the battle comes, you'll have to remain at his side and protect him. Our job is to avoid any open confrontation between him and Voldemort. It's too early!”

A cold silence fell between them. Jane furrowed her forehead thoughtfully. “Why don't we try to tell him the truth?”

Erudio sighed deeply. “Surely you've gotten to know Harry by now. You know that he would never accept a command from above. If I or even Dumbledore were to try to order him to stay away, far from the danger, he wouldn't listen to us. He'd go on and do something dangerous, and we must avoid this at any cost. But you, well, you're a student just like him. He'd certainly accept your suggestions, once he learns to trust you.”

“But, what if he forces me to tell the truth? What should I say, to avoid spoiling our mission?” Jane asked again.

“I trust you. I'm sure you'll find the right answers. You just have to remember that the eyes are the mirror to the soul. If you lie to him, Harry will know it.”

Jane started pacing the room again. “The eyes are my real problem. I've transfigured the colour of my eyes, which were too similar to his, but hadn't foreseen this problem with the dreams. It's a real mess now!”

“Don't worry, my dear. Try to be sincere with him, but not reveal anything compromising to our mission. If everything goes as we're hoping, I trust that when you return to the future, you'll find both of your parents waiting for you. And you'll discover that the past, as you've known it, never happened.”

Hearing those words, Jane felt her heart jump up in her chest. I really hope Erudio is right, she said to herself, trying not to lose hope, even though the mission waiting for her was arduous and extremely dangerous.

***O***

Most of the students were taking their seats in the Great Hall for lunch. Since the snow outside was still fresh, most of them spent the short time before the afternoon lessons outside, playing in the snow.

In an isolated corner near the main entrance, Ron and Luna were deeply absorbed in one another, despite the crowds of boys and girls entering and exiting nearby. They exchanged a few tender kisses, closed up in their little golden world.

“Why don't we take a walk in the snow after lunch?” asked Luna, moving away from the embrace. Her long blonde hair fell ruffled over her shoulders. Her round blue eyes searched his with attention. “Daddy just sent me the new Heat and Melt boots, which are great to heat your feet and at the same time melt snow on the ground.”

Ron smiled. His girlfriend had the wonderful ability to put him in a good mood, even in the most difficult of times. Suddenly, he became serious again. “Well, I'd really like to, but, I just wanted to talk to Harry first. You know, after what happened last night in the library... I haven't had a chance to talk to him since then.”

Luna sighed, worriedly. “Yeah, you're right. It really seems that adversity has befallen our common friend. Poor guy.”

“Yeah...” Ron replied, turning his gaze. “I think I should head to the common room. Maybe I'll find him there. We'll meet afterwards, outside in the garden, all right?”

“Ehm, all right. I'll be waiting in front of the main gate then. Take all the time you need.”

Ron and Luna exchanged a small, sweet kiss. He then ran away with his school bag hanging from his shoulder. “See you later!”

Luna remained there, waving goodbye. Ron ran through several corridors crowded with students that were headed in the opposite direction, pushing him back. He climbed a couple of stairs, then found one of the many secret passageways in the castle. This one was the portrait of a mermaid swimming in the sea, which opened in front of him as soon as Ron pronounced the password. He entered a dark corridor and went through it with a certain confidence, the tip of his wand lit up.

A few more meters and I'm there, he thought, hastening his walk.

The passageway ended in front of a wooden door which Ron opened without difficulties. He had just crossed the doorway when he froze at what he saw.

“YOU! What the hell are you...”

Ron didn't have the chance to finish his sentence as a ray of red light hit him square in the chest, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

1

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(A/N: Hi there! First of all I need to apologize for being so late in publishing… but I've got many excuses, you know? For example, the fact that my mother tongue is Italian and that I need time to translate each chapter and then send it to my wonderful beta reader, IronChefOr for the editing… I strongly hope that you'll forgive me, especially those of you you've been so kind to leave me a nice review, like Gracey, Sandra, Yankeechick and a few Anonymouses who sadly didn't leave their names… sigh! Well, back to the story then, I'm sure that you'll like the following chapter, where there is little bit of fluff between our beloved couple… Harry and Hermione, of course! Enjoy the reading and hopefully, leave your review...)

Chapter 17. EVIL'S DARK NET

The sun began to drop behind the hills, changing the grey colour of the sky into a dark red. The temperature had suddenly dropped, and Harry drew his long black cloak around himself even more so, raising his woollen scarf to cover his nose and ears.

He had spent the entire afternoon by Hogwarts' small cemetery. After melting the snow with his wand, he sat down on the ground beneath his parents' tombstone. He spoke to them silently, as if they were actually standing in front of him.

Dumbledore doesn't want me to face Voldemort in battle. Doesn't he trust my abilities? Harry wondered to himself. Doesn't he trust ME? Or maybe does he think that I'm still just a silly little boy?

The Headmaster's words had hit Harry hard. Ever since he came to learn about the Rebirth Flame and the very real possibility of defeating Voldemort once and for all, he'd been able to visualize the final battle much more vividly than ever before.

He could see it now, much more clearly: the spells he might cast, which of his powers he could use, how he would defend himself from his enemy's treacherous attacks. He didn't know, and didn't want to know, how the battle would end. The only thing he was certain of was that he would fight until he'd exhausted every last bit of strength, risking his own life if needed.

Mum, Dad? What should I do? he asked, tenderly brushing his hand across his beloved parents' tomb. I don't really understand what Dumbledore wants from me. I could never just stand on the side and watch while my friends were risking their lives.

Harry covered his face with his hands, a motion he often made when he needed to think something over, but was too tired to do so clearly. Suddenly, he smelled a familiar scent in the air: wild rose mixed with vanilla. It strongly reminded him of the perfume of a certain person...

“I knew I'd find you here.”

Harry turned toward the person and smiled. “I was waiting for you.”

Hermione smiled as well. “It's cold out here. Why don't we go back to the castle?”

“I just need a minute,” he replied in a whisper. “Would you join me?”

Tightening inside her cloak, she sat by Harry's side. For a few moments, they remained there in silence, looking into each other's eyes. Harry then stretched out his hands and grabbed hers. “You're freezing!” he exclaimed, opening his cloak to wrap around her in a warm embrace.

Harry felt his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. A sensation of immense joy swept over him from head to toe. With his face hidden in her soft hair, he breathed in deeply her sweet perfume.

I could never live without Hermione, he thought to himself. He wanted to be able to express his love with words, so he whispered into her ear. “I've found you again, after months of exile. You're my angel. You're my whole life. I love you so much, Hermione.”

He pulled back slightly to look at her again, and lost himself in her wonderful brown eyes which were wet with tears.

“Oh, Harry, could you ever forgive me?” she whispered, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “I'm so sorry. I wasn't myself lately,” she added, sorrowful. “It was all fault, my stupid jealousy. I wasn't able to think rationally.”

Harry looked at her with tenderness. “Everybody makes mistakes.”

“No, not like this!” she countered him, unable to hold back her tears. “If you only knew the awful things that went through my mind. I'll never forgive myself. I even thought that you and Jane could have... that you...”

“Shhhhh,” Harry pressed his finger to her lips, cutting her off. He stepped closer, wiped away her tears, and then kept them away with many little, sweet kisses of love.

The clouds that had darkened their own blue skies for the past few months finally began to dissolve away. Their hearts were now overflowing with joy, finally able to be together again.

Harry and Hermione remained in each other's arms for a while, surrounded by a blanket of soft snow, like two little stars shining brightly in a vast universe that was much, much bigger than the two of them.

A snowflake fell on Harry's forehead. First one, then another, both to be followed by many more. Brought back to reality, they lifted their eyes to the sky which in the meantime had become very dark, and saw a flurry of white snowflakes descending upon them, settling on the snow-covered ground.

Laughing like two children, they stood up and hurried to the castle, holding hands the entire way.

Hermione felt strengthened by Harry's words and sighed deeply, as if hoping to expel with her breath the remorse that had squeezed her heart until then. Walking through the heavy snow with some difficulty, she turned to him and brought up a subject that was important to her. “You didn't tell me about your meeting with the Minister of Magic. Everything's all right, I hope?”

Harry huffed, slightly annoyed, as he thought back to the meeting (or argument) from that same morning. “You'll never believe this. Not only did she repeal my expulsion but she even offered for me to join the Ministry and become a real Auror... without even finishing school! Unbelievable!”

“I bet she had something else in mind. She probably would've wanted something in exchange from you!” Hermione exclaimed. “After all they did to you last year... And that's not even counting the fact that the evil Umbridge is still working for them.”

“Yeah,” Harry commented with a certain disgust. “The one good thing was that I was able to talk with Dumbledore in private afterwards. He showed me a few sky maps. It looks like there is a connection between the Arcane Path and a group of seven planets of our solar system which are soon going to align perfectly.”

“Hmm. I suspected something like that.”

Harry was surprised by Hermione's words. “You mean you knew about that?”

“Well, let's say that I thought it was a likely possibility,” she explained in a tone of voice resembling that of Professor McGonagall. “There often is a strong connection between certain notable events in history and the position of certain planets or stars in the sky.”

Harry was becoming increasingly interested. “Such as?”

“Well, the first thing to come to mind would be the birth of Jesus Christ.”

He stared at her, confused, and she hurriedly gave an explanation. “Don't you remember? The star that announced Jesus' birth and led the way to Bethlehem?”

“Oh, now I see what you mean.”

“Exactly! There's even the Millenary War between wizards and goblins. It ended in the year AD 1054. Chinese astronomers reported in July of that year a new star that appeared in the sky, visible even during the day. What it was, was a supernova... a star exploding. The remnants of that explosion are still visible even to this day, now known as the Crab Nebula.

“In short, virtually every significant event in history has had some connection to the stars. It's because of that I immediately thought that something similar could happen for the Rebirth Flame as well.”

It seemed to make sense to Harry. Wanting to know more, he shared with her other details from his conversation with Dumbledore. “In the most recent sky map, only Mars was missing from a complete alignment. So, when all of the planets line up again...”

“...conditions will be right such that a smart wizard might be able to successfully find the Rebirth Flame,” Hermione finished for him. Then, with her sternest tone she added, “but that doesn't mean that wizard has to be YOU.”

Harry nodded in silence. He knew perfectly well it would've been useless to go down that road again. It seemed as though Hermione was thinking along the exact same lines as Dumbledore. Remembering his talk with the Headmaster, he decided to mention something else instead: his dreams about Jane Porter. After all, he had promised to not hide anything else from Hermione.

“Dumbledore asked if I've had anymore nightmares,” Harry began. “I told him about my odd dreams about Jane.” He looked at Hermione, watching how she reacted to this.

She didn't seem too upset. “Exactly what you should have done!” she exclaimed. “Did he give you any explanation as to why you might be having these dreams?”

Encouraged by her positive attitude, Harry went on. “Well, he has his own thoughts about that. Evidently Jane had a very difficult childhood. Her father apparently was a wizard from the Order of the Phoenix. He might've even been a very brave Auror, since he's faced Voldemort several times.”

“Hmm... that's very interesting,” Hermione commented thoughtfully.

“Dumbledore believes that these dreams are like a calling for help. Something that I've been able to perceive,” Harry said, then shrugged. “I really don't know what to think about that.”

“Did the Headmaster have any suggestions on how to make the dreams stop?” Hermione asked hurriedly, as if they were talking about an annoying illness to treat.

Harry looked at her hesitantly. “Actually, he just told me to help her, if she ever needed it. That's all.”

Hermione stopped abruptly, kicking up snow from her sudden halt. She stared back at him with a stunned expression in her eyes. “Help her to do WHAT?”

Harry rolled his eyes; Hermione immediately knew she needed to start again.

“All right, all right! I won't start up again with my stupid jealousy. It's just that... well, I can't say that I like Jane, because it wouldn't be the truth. Besides, it's clear she fancies you.” Hermione looked rather uneasy.

“And also, his theory about your odd dreams, like they're a calling for help... well, it doesn't really make much sense to me. We already know that Professor Dumbledore has a great heart, and he's surely been touched by Jane's difficult past. Believe me, Harry, there are still just too many shadows lurking about Jane's situation for me to be able to trust her.”

“Do you really think Dumbledore is wrong about her?” Harry asked doubtfully.

“Well, it wouldn't be the first time the Headmaster made a mistake, would it?” Hermione observed. “You should know that, better than I.”

Harry knew she was talking about the events that led to Sirius's death. If only Dumbledore had revealed the prophecy to Harry in time. If only the Headmaster had set aside his desire to keep Harry “happy,” and revealed the real reason why Voldemort had tried to kill him sixteen years earlier.

“We can't forget that Jane hasn't been completely sincere with us,” said Hermione. “Why didn't she tell us that her father was an Auror working for the Ministry? From the moment she set foot in this school, she's done the near-impossible to draw everyone's attention onto her. And when she really does have something to be proud of, her father being an Auror, she doesn't say anything about that.

“What about her eyes, as well?” Hermione continued. “Why did she change her eye colour from green to brown? What is it that she's desperately trying to hide? I'm sorry, but I still can't trust Jane Porter, and I beg you to pay very close attention when you're with her.”

Harry wanted to try to calm Hermione down, to reassure her, but oddly he wasn't able to find the right words to say.

They had almost arrived in front of the main entrance when suddenly they heard someone urgently calling their names.

“Harry, Hermione!” Both turned.

Luna Lovegood was running toward them. Her hair was rather ruffled and despite the bitter cold, she'd evidently forgotten to put her cloak on, a sign that she'd suddenly run out to them. She stopped in front of them, panting. “Harry... Hermione. Please, tell me that Ron has been with you the whole afternoon.”

A shadow fell over Hermione's face. “The last time I saw Ron, he was leaving the Great Hall with you, right after lunch.”

“I... I haven't seen him all day,” Harry replied, feeling a horrible sense of foreboding grow in his heart.

Luna stared at them with her blue eyes wide open, unable to hide her worry. “When we left, he told me he was going to look for Harry up in your common room. He'd then meet me for a short walk in the gardens, before this afternoon's classes. I've been waiting for him for more than an hour, but he hasn't shown up.”

“Maybe he got sidetracked and had to go back to class without letting you know,” Hermione suggested, doing her best to remain calm. “I had Potions and Ancient Runes in the afternoon, which is why we weren't in class together.”

“Oh no, no. I've already asked around. No one has seen him at all. Besides, he's never disappeared like this without saying where he was going.” Luna swallowed hard before expressing the thought that had been whirling in her mind from the very beginning. “Something terrible has happened to him, I know it,” she whispered with a trembling voice.

“We'll find him!” Harry exclaimed firmly. He then hurried toward the castle, his fists tightened in anxiety. Luna followed on his heels as if she was his shadow.

“W-wait a minute. Why don't we go ask Professor McGonagall first?” Hermione suggested, struggling to keep up with their urgent pace. “Maybe she called him to her office. Or maybe Dumbledore would know...”

“Each minute that passes by could be Ron's last,” Harry replied as he entered the main gate. “Besides, I have a better idea. Follow me, quickly!”

Harry, Luna, and Hermione walked past the Great Hall, from which the laughter and noise of students gathered for dinner poured out. They ran up the almost deserted stairs and shortly reached a secret passage: the painting of a mermaid swimming in the sea. They went through the dark corridor and, upon opening the door, found themselves already on the seventh floor. Another couple of corridors later and they found themselves at the Fat Lady's portrait.

“I'll be back in a minute.”

The girls nodded, and Harry disappeared behind the door. Luna and Hermione waited outside, nervously pacing the corridor, too restless to exchange any words of comfort.

A few moments later, Hermione stopped abruptly, frowning at the other end of the corridor. A couple had just appeared... the one couple she would have never wished to meet at that particular moment.

Theo Mustle, his head and hands still bandaged, was slowly walking with the help of Jane Porter, who was giving him her arm. When their eyes met the cold ones of Hermione, Theo and Jane lowered their gazes to the floor and slowly reached the Fat Lady's portrait.

Before entering the common room, they turned one last time. Jane looked like she was about to say something when the portrait suddenly opened and her sad gaze crossed Harry's surprised look. He suddenly found himself in front of the three people who had made the past few months so difficult for him to handle. His eyes stopped on Jane's pale face, then moved over to Theo's sulky countenance, and finally landed on Hermione who was still staring at them in silence, observing the situation.

“Harry, is everything all right?” Jane asked timidly. “Is something the matter?” she added, guessing from their worried faces.

Harry was torn. Despite the fact his mind about Jane and Theo had been changed slightly after his last talk with Dumbledore, Hermione's words had again raised more doubts about the pair. In any event, they were wasting precious time; he didn't have time to explain much about what was going on.

“Everything fine,” stated Hermione, speaking the words Harry's mind was struggling to find. She then turned to Harry and Luna. “Let's go! There's no time to lose!”

Harry nodded in silence. He then gave a slight wave to Jane and Theo and hurried behind Hermione and Luna, who were already running down the corridor.

Hermione found an empty classroom and opened the door, letting the other two in. Harry pulled out the Marauders' Map, which he'd just retrieved from his room. He tapped it with his wand, thinking the magic words without actually saying them aloud.

As soon as the map of Hogwarts appeared in front of them, Harry looked everywhere, desperate to find Ron's name on it somewhere.

“There he is!” Luna exclaimed, pointing to the highest tower on the castle. “The Astronomy Tower.”

“Come on!” Harry put the map away and ran outside, followed immediately by the two girls. Finding Ron so quickly wasn't reassuring. Quite the contrary, his heart was still in turmoil. The fear that something horrible might have happened to his best friend prevented him from thinking clearly. In that moment, he was only able to run, to reach his friend as quickly as possible. All he cared about was finding Ron and making sure he was all right.

They climbed staircases, passed through empty corridors, and finally reached the south wing of the castle. They ran up a spiral staircase and shortly found themselves in a circular stone room that covered the staircase and led out to the open part of the tower. Everything was quiet. The weak moonlight barely illuminated the surrounding darkness. A few telescopes stood off on the side. Unfortunately there was no trace of Ron.

With trembling hands, Harry pulled out the map again. On the accurate representation of the Astronomy Tower, labels with their names had appeared, still next to the one with Ron's name.

“M-maybe... someone covered him with an invisibility cloak and that's why we can't see him,” Luna suggested. Without waiting for a reply, she then closed her eyes and stretched out her arms. She started searching the room in small steps, blindly grasping out into the air with her hands. If it wasn't such a serious moment, Harry might have even considered the scene comic. He suddenly grabbed Luna's arm, preventing her from knocking over an ancient mahogany lectern standing in the middle of the room.

“Or maybe...” Hermione didn't finish her sentence, but moved closer to the wall and leaned out the windowsill.

“Of course!” Harry exclaimed, as if he had suddenly realized what she was doing. He went over to her and looked over as well. The snow was falling heavily and an icy wind was making the situation even worse.

“D-do you really think that Ron... fell from the tower?” hazarded Luna.

Harry prayed that she was wrong. With a certain fear in his heart, he looked down to the ground far, far below them, but he only saw a white mantle of snow. He then realized it was impossible for Ron to be on the ground below, since on the map his name was still on the tower.

Fighting the icy wind and snow, Harry carefully climbed up onto the windowsill and carefully turned around to try to look on the roof.

“Be careful!” Hermione shouted, grasping tightly around his legs. She then pointed her wand to the wall and several strong straps magically appeared and wrapped themselves around Harry's sides, firmly attaching themselves to the walls on each side of him.

Mentally thanking his girlfriend, Harry grabbed hold of the rusted iron decorative roof railing with both hands. He looked up again, but couldn't see anything; the sleet was now blinding him.

“Damn it!” he cursed. He took his wand out and pointed it at the glasses. “Impervius!”

His lens cleared immediately. Harry squinted his eyes to see better. To his great horror, he saw a dark shadow hanging from the highest spire of the tower, being tossed in the wind like a flag.

“RON! CAN YOU HEAR ME?” Harry shouted with all his strength. There was no reply.

Sure that it was Ron, Harry pointed his wand toward him. “MOBILICORPUS!”

The dark figure suddenly started hovering in midair. With extreme attention, Harry kept his wand pointed at Ron, directing him back into the room. One mistake and Ron would fall to the ground far below. He did his best to not even blink, for fear of losing sight of Ron for even an instant.

“Ahhh!” Harry groaned. His left hand, still gripping the iron railing, was now bleeding. Tightening his right hand around his wand, he continued to guide his unconscious friend who was slowly getting closer.

“All right, you're nearly there,” Hermione exhorted. “Now, carefully, bring him in through that other window. Slowly. Very good...”

Breathing hard from the effort, Harry did his best to guide Ron in, where Luna and Hermione were ready to catch him and set him down on the floor.

Exhausted, Harry finally lowered his wand, grabbed the iron railing with both hands to first steady himself, and then jumped back inside.

“How... how is he?” he asked, panting. His cheeks and nose were red and cold.

Ron was lying unconscious, still tethered to a large chain. His pale face bore long cuts on his cheeks, as if made by the blade of a knife. His hair and clothes were frozen and covered with many tiny icicles.

Bent over him, both girls checked his condition. Hermione released the chain and checked his pulse. “It's slow,” she stated with a trembling voice.

Summoning her courage, she pointed her wand toward Ron. “ENNERVATE!”

For a fraction of a second, a golden light wrapped around Ron's body, making him glow in a surreal way. Unfortunately, the effect wasn't the one they were expecting.

“There's no time to lose!” she shouted. “We need Madam Pomfrey!”

Harry and Luna nodded, and then with Hermione's help, physically lifted Ron. The three of them carried him to the hospital wing.

After a fair amount of insistent knocking on Luna's part, the ancient nurse finally showed up to the door.

“Merlin's beard! What's the reason for all this racket?” The scene in front of her was not good: Ron Weasley, unconscious and injured, being supported by Harry Potter, his own face now bleeding from the icy lashes of the wind, and Hermione Granger, her face pale like a bed sheet. And to top it all off, Luna Lovegood was jumping from one foot to the other in panic, as if someone had hexed her with Tarantallegra. Madam Pomfrey's tone of voice immediately changed. “Oh, Holy Heaven!”

“Ron needs help quickly, there's no time to lose!” Luna shouted, then pushed the nurse to the side and crossed the threshold, waving for Harry and Hermione to follow her inside.

As soon as the Madam Pomfrey recovered from her shock, she followed them to one of the first beds. “Set him there. That's fine. Oh, he's nearly frozen! But don't worry. I've got the perfect cure for that.”

She then hurried to her cupboard and returned a moment later, holding in her hands a large, black bottle with a white skull and crossbones printed on it. Harry recognized it immediately.

“Ogden's Old Firewhisky?” he asked in disbelief.

“Of course! Nothing better to warm one's insides,” the nurse promptly replied as she poured a large amount into Ron's mouth. “That's it. Now, he just needs a good night's sleep and tomorrow he'll be good as new.”

Madam Pomfrey corked the bottle and turned toward Harry, Luna, and Hermione, who were still staring at her with eyes wide in shock. “Well, what are you looking at? It's an effective treatment, dating back to the first magical world war. Anyway, you should be in your beds now. Come on, back to your common rooms. Hurry up!”

“Oh, please, let us stay. Ron needs to have his best friends at his side,” Luna begged, directing her large, watering, blue eyes toward the nurse, who sighed deeply before replying.

“All right then. But only one of you may stay.”

Hermione set her hand on Luna's shoulder. “You'll stay. We'll be back tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you so much, my friends,” Luna replied, smiling thankfully.

Reluctantly, Harry and Hermione slowly moved toward the door. Before leaving the hospital wing, Harry shot a last glance toward the bed where his best friend was lying. Luna was already sitting at his side, holding his hands.

Harry felt a little better. He was sure Luna would lovingly take care of Ron, just like he or any other member of the Weasley family would have. He closed the door behind him and unexpectedly, with Ron safe now, all of his tension immediately lessened. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, exhausted.

“Poor Ron. I can't manage what could have happened if we'd been much later,” commented Hermione, shivering inside her cloak. “Only someone deranged would have done something so awful.”

Harry nervously passed his hands through his hair. He felt a painful sting and remembered that his left hand was cut. He hurriedly hid it behind his back, not wanting to worry his girlfriend any more.

“Whoever did it must not have wanted to kill Ron. Otherwise he'd have already done it.”

“Do you think it's the same person who broke into Professor McGonagall's office and stunned Pansy Parkinson?” asked Hermione, moving closer to him.

“And the one who killed the school owls and petrified Mrs. Norris. Yeah, I think so,” Harry replied, more and more worried. “There's got to be a connection between all these events. We just need to discover who's doing it and what they're after.”

Hermione thought about it for a moment. “These are all actions that can't have gone unnoticed. I'll bet one of the purposes was to attract students' attentions.” She paused, then suddenly her eyes lit up. “A diversion! He or she wanted to draw the teachers' attentions and...”

“And be able to gather information freely. Of course! Information about the Arcane Path and the Rebirth Flame. Just like Dumbledore thought... Voldemort needs to know where the Order is in its research.” Harry widened his eyes. “It matches perfectly!”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked.

Harry turned toward her, eager to share his theory. “Who are the Hogwarts students closest to Voldemort's ideals?”

Hermione didn't take much time to reply. “The Slytherins.”

“And amongst all the Slytherins, our dear Draco Malfoy has plenty of reason to hinder the Order's job.”

“Malfoy? Do you really think that he'd be able to organize all of this?” Hermione didn't appear entirely convinced. “Don't forget that Pansy Parkinson is his girlfriend.”

“Well, attacking Pansy Parkinson was a genius move. He needed a perfect excuse to divert attention from himself, and he got it!” Harry exclaimed. “Not satisfied, Malfoy attacked Ron to collect the information he needed,” he suggested. “Then, he tied him up like a kite and hung him from the Astronomy Tower. I'm sure he wanted to get some sort of revenge too. What a bloody coward...”

Hermione sighed deeply. “Malfoy could have been able to, but I don't know if he's smart enough to make it all work. About all we can do is to wait until tomorrow. Then we can ask Ron exactly what happened.” She then rubbed her eyes. “I think we should go to bed now.”

“You're right. It's been a long, long day,” commented Harry. It was unbelievable that his discussion with the Minister of Magic had been that same morning.

He grabbed Hermione's hand and both slowly walked toward Gryffindor Tower.

***O***

The first morning light found Harry and Hermione lying on the sofa in the common room, deep asleep.

The dawn was being illuminated by timid rays of sunlight that were filtering in through the window, lighting up Harry's face. He first clenched his eyes shut to block the light, then made a funny grimace with his nose, finally waking up.

He raised his right hand to straighten his glasses, but felt an unusual obstacle along the way. Oddly, his fingers were entangled in a very soft mass. He squeezed his eyes shut once more, then opened them to be surprised to find Hermione lying on his side, with her hand resting on his chest.

Suddenly, the events of the previous night came back into his mind.

Returning to Gryffindor Tower, they found the common room almost deserted. Wanting to stay together a little longer, they took a seat in front of the fireplace. Hand in hand, they watched the dancing flames as they grew weaker and weaker as the night passed. Without realizing it, they had fallen asleep into each other's arms.

Harry looked at Hermione, who was still asleep. She was so sweet, like an angel. He traced the contours of her pretty face with his fingers. Being so close to her, to feel the warmth of her body, the fragrance of her soft hair, was causing so many emotions that he could barely describe them. He felt the same as he did when he was flying on his broomstick, but at the same time, his stomach felt upside down, like when he was facing a very difficult test. He felt restless and confused, but also tremendously and irrepressibly happy.

Harry had often imagined how he might feel in a situation like this. Now he almost felt dizzy, like looking over the edge of an abyss, unable to see bottom. Without even realizing it, his hands had started rubbing up and down Hermione's back, as if they had a will of their own.

If Professor McGonagall or any other student had found them there like that, they would both be in serious trouble.

No, I can't, Harry thought in panic. I need to stop before I go too far.

“Hermione,” he whispered, shaking her slightly. “Hermione, wake up.”

She moved weakly, bringing a hand to her head, blinking several times. She then opened her eyes and looked around. “H-Harry?”

Suddenly, she shot up like a rubber band, hurriedly adjusting her clothes. She'd only then realized where she was lying. “Harry! But what... and how...?”

“We fell asleep,” he replied, trying to explain. Then with a silly smile, he added, “Funny, isn't it?”

Hermione looked tremendously embarrassed, and was still checking her clothes to make sure that everything was in its place. “Well, we were really tired, after all,” she commented, adjusting her ruffled, curly hair. “There was nothing wrong about what happened, don't you think?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Harry exclaimed, jumping up as well as if the sofa had been wired with an electric current.

Then, realization of what had happened the previous night hit Hermione like a bludger. “Ron! We should check if he's all right.”

“That's why I woke you up,” Harry replied, trying to be as vague as possible as he tightened the knot in his tie.

“We need to get Ginny first. She was already in bed last night, but there's no excuse today. She has to know what happened.”

Harry was still feeling confused and embarrassed. “Y-yeah... erm, now, you can... and maybe I'll go...”

“In the meantime you can go to the hospital wing,” Hermione added, trying to brush the colour from her cheeks, which were pretty much ruby-red now. “I'll... I'll see you later, then.”

“A-all right.” Harry was already obediently heading to the Fat Lady's portrait when Hermione called him and he turned back again.

“Harry?”

She was looking at him from the stairs, smiling. She slowly descended the few steps that were separating them and was then at his side. Without a word, she threw her arms around his neck and stared directly into his eyes with endless tenderness.

Harry felt his body flushed by a great warmth; his face felt in flames. Hermione closed her eyes, moved even closer, then kissed him on the lips.

Both tasted that magical moment together, which felt like it went on for all of eternity. Everything around them disappeared. They were the two only human beings left in the world, and they would be like that forever.

When Hermione moved back, Harry started breathing normally again. He opened his eyes and got lost in her sweet, brown eyes.

“Your collar,” she whispered with a smile as she adjusted his uniform. “Now it's perfect.”

“Thanks...” was the only word Harry could manage to say.

Hermione smiled again and headed back to the staircases. He followed her with his eyes until she disappeared behind the door to the girls' dormitory. Then, still bewildered, he walked out the portrait and down the corridor. “Wow!” he exclaimed, smiling.

It was still very early in the morning and there were no students around yet. Harry quickly reached the hospital wing, where at the door he found a very angry Madam Pomfrey.

“Here's another one!” she exclaimed, irritated. “Miss Lovegood was here the entire night. She's gone back to her dormitory just an hour ago. Now, Mr. Potter shows up!”

Harry paused a few seconds before realizing what the nurse was talking about. “I-I just wanted to...”

“Oh, come on,” Madam Pomfrey huffed. “Mr. Weasley has already woken up.”

Harry shot a glance inside and was surprised to see his best friend already sitting up on the bed. He was leaning back against a couple large, soft pillows. His gaze was lost out the window.

“Ron!” Greatly relieved, Harry was immediately at his side. “How do you feel? Hermione and I were so worried.”

At first, Ron didn't realize that he was there. He kept staring out the window, his eyes wide open.

“Ron?”

“Oh, that's normal,” Madam Pomfrey explained. “It's a common reaction to a very strong shock.”

Harry took a seat next to the bed. When the nurse was on the far side of the room, he called his friend again. “Do you recognize me? It's Harry.”

Finally, Ron turned and stared at him for several moments, a puzzled look in his eyes. His face was pale and covered with knife-like scratches, probably due to sharp bits of ice being lashed by the harsh wind. His expression was empty and slightly sad. “Harry? It's really you?”

He nodded with a large smile. “How do you feel?”

“Like I landed all over again in the Whomping Willow with my father's old Ford Anglia,” Ron replied, smiling as well.

Harry sighed in relief. It appeared as though his best friend was slowly returning to his senses. He decided then to question him right away. “Do you... by any chance... do you recall anything about what happened yesterday?”

Ron shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Harry insisted.

“Absolutely nothing. A complete blank,” Ron replied, discouraged.

Despite Ron's answer, Harry couldn't resist asking him once more. “But there should be something... or at least a detail that you remember. Maybe a face... or a voice...”

“I TOLD YOU ALREADY! NOTHING AT ALL!” shouted Ron, deeply disappointed.

Mortified by the sudden reaction, Harry shot a furtive glance at Madam Pomfrey who was quietly sitting at her desk. She apparently didn't notice anything strange about Ron's shouting. When he turned to his friend again, he found him staring outside the window once more.

“Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't...”

“I don't even know if I want to remember anything. To tell the truth, the only thing that's really bothering me is the tournament.”

“W-what? You mean the academic tournament?” At the moment, that was definitely at the bottom of Harry's list of priorities. “But... but... What the hell are you talking about?”

Ron turned and looked Harry directly in the eye. “You know what I'm talking about. The Defence Against the Dark Arts challenge. After what happened to me, I won't be able to make it.”

Harry felt the situation was insane. After what had just happened, his best friend's only concern was to take part in a silly scholastic tournament?

“The challenge is an entire week away. You'll have plenty of time to get ready for it,” Harry insisted.

“No, Harry. I won't play the part of the idiot in front of the entire school. I can't!” he insisted. Ron then stretched out his hand and grabbed Harry's arm tightly, pulling him closer. His eyes were wide open and his pupils even appeared dilated. “I'd feel much more relaxed if you took my place instead.”

Harry didn't know what to say; he was genuinely surprised by that request. Ron spoke again, without releasing his grip on Harry's arm. “You're my best friend. I trust only you. You have to compete in my place and win. It's a matter of honour.”

Harry stared at Ron, as if he was seeing his friend for the first time in his life. It was as if he was a complete stranger.

A moment later, Madam Pomfrey could be heard arguing with someone at the door. Both turned to look.

“And I'm telling you that Mr. Weasley doesn't need any more visitors at the moment. Mr. Potter is already with him and that's enough.”

“But he's my brother! I absolutely have to see him now!”

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Of course, if he's your brother!” she exclaimed sarcastically. “As usual, students win. Come in, but you may stay only five minutes, no more! Classes start in half an hour, and you'll have to... hey, running in the hospital wing is FORBIDDEN!”

As soon as the nurse opened the door, Ginny rushed inside and ran to Ron's bed in a second. She was only wearing her white shirt, and her long red hair fell haphazardly onto her shoulders. It looked like she hadn't even finished dressing this morning. Her tie was hanging loose, draped around her neck.

“Are you all right? Hermione told me everything. If I catch the person who did this to you, I'll... I'll...” Ginny was furious, shaking her fist in the air as if about to hit someone.

Ron smiled slightly. “Hey, calm down, little sister. I'm almost scared of you sometimes, you know?”

Harry didn't know what to think. He desperately hoped that Ron's sudden change in behaviour was just a side-effect from the shock, but he couldn't swear on it. He kept staring at Ron, feeling uneasy.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Ginny asked, now really worried. “Do you think I should owl Mum?”

“Oh, don't be silly. I don't want her to rush over here for some stupid reason. I'm fine, see?” Ron lifted his arm to flex his muscles, but his face suddenly made a grimace of pain. The sudden motion had probably caused a pain in his back.

“All right, all right, I get it. Please, don't overdo it,” Ginny warned, smiling. “Maybe we should all go and let you rest a bit. Our five minutes have already passed and Madam Pomfrey is shaking her finger at me,” she added, shooting a nasty glance at the nurse who was watching them from by the door. She had an impatient expression on her face. “We'll come back before lunch. You try to be quiet and sleep a bit.”

“Yes, Mum!” joked Ron. “See you later, then.”

Harry waved at him without much enthusiasm. “See you later.” He had just turned to the door when Ron called him back.

“Harry? Think about what I told you. Please, promise me...”

Surprised by him being so insistent, Harry nodded weakly until Ron looked reassured.

When Harry and Ginny found themselves alone in the corridor, they shared their impressions.

“He doesn't look too bad,” Ginny commented.

“Yeah...” Harry replied, not entirely convinced.

“Hermione told me that Draco Malfoy is your prime suspect.”

Harry replied with a shrug. “Just suspicions. I'll talk about it with Dumbledore, but the only one who can tell us anything for sure is Ron. Unfortunately he doesn't remember anything.”

“Give him time. I'm sure he'll be completely fine in a few days.”

“I hope you're right...” Harry's mind returned to his chat with Ron shortly before. The more he thought about it, the more he felt there was something strange in his friend's behaviour. Was it just an effect of the shock? Or was it something else?

“Why don't we talk about something happier.” Ginny's voice brought him back to reality. “You'll be happy to know that I got an owl from Neville last night. He says that he'll probably be able to come back to school by next January and finish the school year. Isn't that wonderful? He's also invited all of us to come over to his house for Christmas. I bet you need a good vacation, more than any of us, don't you think?”

Harry was still lost in his thoughts about Ron. “What were you saying?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I just said that Neville has invited all of us over to his house for Christmas. I've already got some more information. Did you know that the Knight Bus stops right in front of the Longbottoms' manor?”

“That's great!” Harry exclaimed, pretending to actually be impressed by the invitation. With everything that had been was going on lately, the Christmas holiday seemed so far away. He was sure it would have been fantastic to spend Christmas at Longbottom Manor, if only there wasn't the little detail of a magical war going on!

How can Ginny think about a vacation at a time like this? Harry asked himself, shaking his head. Probably should the subject now. “Erm, do you know where Hermione went?”

“Oh, I should have told you before. We were running to the hospital wing when we met Professor McGonagall. She asked Hermione to accompany her to her office.”

Harry frowned at Ginny. “Do you know why?”

“Oh... no. I was too worried about Ron. I didn't even think to ask.” She appeared genuinely sorry.

“Well, it doesn't matter. It's probably something about her classes,” Harry replied, hoping that it really was, and nothing worse.

Students started to fill the corridors. Everyone was slowly heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry and Ginny moved toward the staircases to join them. They had just reached the entrance when he bumped into Professor McGonagall. She wore a grim expression on her face. Knowing her pretty well, Harry knew it didn't mean anything good.

“Mr. Potter, I was looking for you. Miss Weasley, you're here as well.”

“Good morning, Professor,” they both greeted.

Their teacher sighed deeply, then stared at the two in silence as if she was searching for the right words to say something extremely unpleasant. “I deeply regret to inform you that something particularly sad has just occurred.”

Harry's heart stopped for a second. “Hermione? What's happened to her?”

With a very sorry expression, Professor McGonagall slowly handed him an envelope. “You'll find your answer in here.”

Harry frowned at the envelope. Whatever was its contents, it was nothing good for him.

“Come on, open it!” Ginny urged.

With a horrible weight in his stomach, Harry opened the envelope. Inside was a small card with Hermione's handwriting on it. It was much more messy and scrawled than normal. It looked as though she'd hurriedly written it on whatever could find at that moment. Here and there, the card was stained by splotches where the ink had bled from small drops of water falling upon it.

My dearest Harry,

You don't know how much I wanted to say goodbye to you in person. Everything has happened so quickly that it's been impossible however. I hope you can forgive me for this.

I've just received terrible news. Last night, a group of Death Eaters attacked my house. They've kidnapped Dad.

Harry lifted his eyes from the letter and stared at Professor McGonagall in disbelief. “Mr. Granger?”

The teacher nodded without adding a word, as Ginny began to feel more and more anxious. “What's going on?” she asked, scared. Harry's eyes turned back to the card.

As soon as I heard the news, my heart broke into a million pieces. Mum was seriously injured, but at least she's still alive. I'm afraid for Dad's life now. As I'm sure you've already guessed, I need to go to my mum immediately. We'll both stay somewhere safer, at least until Professor Dumbledore can tell us where else to go.

“Harry, I'm getting worried!” Ginny shouted. “Professor, please tell me what's happened.”

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the card. Ginny's voice found its way to his ears like some distant echo, weak and elusive.

Please, Harry, promise that you won't try to look for me. Promise that you'll stay at Hogwarts. Your place is here. Ron and Ginny need your help. Think about me often. I'll think about you every second.

Forever yours,

Hermione

Harry felt as though he'd just been dragged down into Hell. “I... I can't believe it... It's not possible,” he stuttered. The pain... the helpless feeling was becoming unbearable for him. He turned on Professor McGonagall with hate in his eyes. “You should have protected them! Hermione trusted you, ALL OF YOU!”

“I understand how you feel, my boy.”

“NO, YOU CAN'T!”

“Harry, please.” Ginny grasped his arm to admonish him.

“We did all that was possible,” McGonagall explained, feeling deeply sorry. “The Aurors who were responsible for protecting Mr. and Mrs. Granger fought with courage. Sadly, many of them even lost their lives.”

Her explanations fell on deaf ears. In Harry's mind, each and every wizard in the Order of the Phoenix and every Auror in the Ministry was guilty, responsible for what had happened. “I want to know where Hermione is,” he said firmly.

“The location is top secret. Nobody is allowed to...”

“I need to reach her. TELL ME WHERE SHE IS! NOW!”

Professor McGonagall's eyes widened, deeply offended by Harry's tone. She spoke nevertheless without any resentment in her voice. “I'm sorry, but it's impossible. It's for Miss Granger's own safety. Besides, I don't even know where the location is.”

“I want to speak with Dumbledore.”

“Professor Dumbledore is away from school at the moment.” She didn't give Harry a chance to reply. “I'm sorry, but the only thing we can do now is to wait.”

The words hit Harry like a heavy bludger. “WAIT?! You all think that I can't do anything else but wait! Hermione needs me now, and I'll find her if it's the last thing I do.” Harry was beginning to feel sick; he needed fresh air. Clenching his fist around Hermione's card, he ran off.

“Harry, come back!” Ginny called after him, but it was too late.

Harry was already outside in the snow, running as fast as he could. He wanted to leave that place and those people for good. He would search for Hermione everywhere. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, Snape... everybody would see what Harry Potter was capable of.

Very quickly, he reached the huge iron gates of the school grounds which were sealed with powerful magic. Panting, he tightened his hands around the cruel bars that were separating him from his beloved one. With all of his strength, he shook the gate several times trying to wrench it open, even though he already knew it was useless.

With growing anger, he took out his wand and pointed it at the gate, casting every different hex and curse that came into to his mind. He quickly realized though that Hogwarts was protected by stronger magic than what he knew.

Wounded and saddened, Harry turned toward the castle. The towers stood out against the grey sky and the snow covered the trees and grounds with a white blanket. From the chimney in Hagrid's hut, a dark column of smoke was rising into...

“Of course! Sirius's motorbike,” Harry remembered. He slowly regained hope and desperately ran towards Hagrid's hut. He'd break free of this “prison” at any cost. He was almost there when he suddenly tripped over a rock buried in the snow. He lost his balance and fell down, face-first into the snow.

Harry remained motionless, lying there on the freshly fallen snow. This forced pause gave him a chance to find a moment of calmness and to actually think things over.

“Hermione...” he whispered, reaching out for her but grasping only snow instead. Hermione's words written on the card echoed in his mind. “Please, Harry, promise that you won't try to look for me. Promise that you'll stay at Hogwarts. Your place is here. Ron and Ginny need your help.”

He couldn't leave his best friend alone in the condition he was in. And Ginny? She was a brilliant and smart witch, but still so young. Hermione was right: his friends needed him here.

“Hermione...” he whispered again, feeling an unbearable need to cry. In instinct, he grabbed tightly the jade pendant he had always worn around his neck ever since Hermione gave it to him for his seventeenth birthday. “Wait for me. I swear that I'll find you. I swear...”

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(A/N: Dear friends, I'm sorry for the delay in publishing, but I can assure you that you'll enjoy the new chapter very much. I wish to thank all of you who have left a review to the previous chapter: Mrs. Black, Yankeechick, Sandra, Wolf 101. To Old Chuck I wish to reply saying that… No, I haven't abandoned this story! Besides, in Italian language I've published “Secrets from the Future” until chapter 26 and I'm going to write the last chapters soon. In fact, I've already planned to end the story with chapter n. 30. You don't have to forget, that I'm Italian mother tongue and that I'm writing the story in Italian language first and then I've to translate each chapter into English before publishing it on Portkey. I also need to thank my wonderful BETA reader IronChefOr, who has edited the chapter perfectly, as he always does. Hope to get your reviews soon, to know what you think about the story so far. Thanks a lot!)

Chapter 18. THE END OF THE GAMES.

In a grim room, a large fire crackled lively inside the stone fireplace. On the wall, the tall, dark shadow of a frightful figure stood out. The man's head was bald, and pale like death; his ten long, twisted fingers protruded from the sleeves of a long, black robe. A huge grey snake lie curled at his feet, its slit-like eyes watching its master in obedience.

“Did you take care of the Muggle, as I asked?” Lord Voldemort spoke with a firm and self-controlled voice tone that didn't carry any trace of emotion.

“Yes, my Lord. As you ordered,” the hooded Death Eater replied, bowing in front of him.

The Dark Lord brought his hands together and smiled, looking pleased. “Well done, McNair.” He then addressed himself toward a little fellow, who stood aloof in a corner of the room. “Wormtail!”

The little man jumped on the spot then rushed in front of his master, bowing deeply.

“Add some more wood to the fireplace. You know perfectly well I don't like the fire to burn down so low.”

“Y-yes, my Lord. At once,” Wormtail stuttered. He scurried over to a corner of the room were he had previously set a pile of wood; he took ten and threw them in the fire.

Lord Voldemort turned again to the Death Eater. “And the woman?”

McNair shivered slightly, afraid to disappoint his master. “Well… my Lord, we didn't touch her, as you asked. But, I can assure you we could have easily killed her, if you'd asked. The Minister's Aurors were all inexperienced. It was all too easy for us.”

“I can imagine,” Lord Voldemort commented, satisfied. “But it's all right. Everything is following my plans. Now go, McNair, and be ready for the next step.”

The Death Eater nodded then stood up and hastened out of the room. Voldemort stretched out his skeleton-like arm and stroked his pet snake, Nagini, on its clammy head. In reply, the reptile closed its eyes and hissed in appreciation, enjoying the rare sign of affection.

“You see, Wormtail, I always keep my promises.”

At hearing his name, Wormtail shivered, still standing by the fireplace.

The Dark Lord spoke again. “Harry Potter didn't take my generous offer. I shall remain steadfast in my plans to destroy him, until the very end. But I won't just kill him. No, that would be too merciful. That boy has caused me too many troubles these past years.”

Silence fell up the room. In the minutes that followed, only the crackling of the fire in the fireplace could be heard. Finally, Wormtail turned toward his master and dared to question him. “M-may I ask you, my Lord, w-what your next move will be?”

Voldemort smirked. “It's simple, my incompetent yet useful servant. I'll let him suffer, slowly, like you might with a dirty, crawling worm. And when he's in my presence, he'll beg me to spare his life…” He raised the palm of his hand and slowly closed his fingers into a fist. “I'll crush him like a bug.”

Wormtail's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. Many times he'd seen his master planning his revenge against his enemies, but this time, the Dark Lord looked more merciless than ever.

***O***

At Hogwarts, life was going on quietly, but the calm was only skin-deep. Both teachers and students appeared more tense than usual, as if they were waiting for something horrible to happen soon.

In the days that followed the kidnapping of Mr. Granger, news of Hermione's sudden departure and of the bad accident Ron suffered spread around the entire school. Every student was talking about it.

If even Harry Potter's best friends are in such trouble, what's going to happen to the rest of us? This thought and many others were the questions that most of the students whispered to each other in the corridors, in the common rooms, and in the Great Hall, helping to feed the fear and the uncertainty amongst them.

Even the story about Ron's accident had grown unbelievably in telling after retelling. Now, it seemed as though the mysterious attacker had hexed Ron behind his back, hit him with the Cruciatus repeatedly, and finally, that he had thrown Ron off the Astronomy Tower, down onto the precipice below. Someone also said that Madam Pomfrey had to put him back together from the pieces that were scattered everywhere.

In spite of the restlessness, not once had anybody thought to cancel the House Tournament. The Defence Against the Dark Arts task was fast approaching; the date was the following Saturday.

As soon as he was released from the hospital wing, Ron had started to tell everyone that Harry was going to take his place during the competition, despite the fact that Harry had not yet confirmed it to his best friend. Ron seemed obsessed with thought of losing the tournament; he felt the only student able to replace him was Harry.

For his part, Harry neither confirmed nor denied the whispers. He simply did everything possible to avoid the other students and teachers, spending the whole day closed up in his room or taking long walks in the snowy gardens. He had also taken to skipping classes, simply because he had had enough of everyone and everything.

I won't step foot inside a classroom again until I can talk to Dumbledore, he promised to himself. But unfortunately, the Headmaster was still far away from school.

Friday morning, the day before the task, Harry was lying in his bed, wearing his Muggle clothes. It was almost lunchtime and the bell would soon ring, tolling the end of morning classes. He had no desire to meet up with his roommates. As with all of the previous days, he would soon go out for another one of his long walks outside the castle.

Harry turned to the window. It had just stopped snowing and the sun was starting to peek through the clouds, causing the snowy landscape to sparkle and gleam. He sighed deeply and lazily turned to stare at the ceiling again.

Ever since Hermione had left, he felt weak, sapped of strength. Not only had he abandoned his lessons, he was also now avoiding his best friends: Ron, Luna, and Ginny. He hadn't spoken with them in what felt like ages. So that he wouldn't have to meet them in the Great Hall, Harry had taken the habit to ask his trusted friend Dobby to bring him food from the kitchens up to his bedroom.

He felt as though everybody had done their best to betray him. He'd had enough of it and all he wanted now was to just take his life into his own hands. The first thing he needed to do was to talk to Dumbledore. He had to ask him for an explanation about what had happened to Hermione's family.

If the headmaster had not returned by the end of that evening, he decided that he would leave Hogwarts and look for Hermione himself. He knew full well that she had asked him not to do anything foolish or irresponsible, but the situation had become unbearable for him. He needed to do something.

He didn't know where she was hiding, but he was sure he could find her using his Seer powers. He'd already tried to use telepathy, but it seemed as though his heart was too distracted during the last few days, impeding his inner sight.

That morning, Harry wanted to try again. Lying in his bed, he exhaled deeply, then forced himself to clear his mind, pushing out all of his restless thoughts.

He tried to visualize Hermione's face. After a few seconds, his girlfriend's sweet smile finally appeared in the darkness behind his closed eyes. She was exactly like the last time he had seen her: wearing her school uniform, smiling, with her long bushy hair falling over her shoulders, and her deep, brilliant brown eyes.

Where are you Hermione? As he thought the question, the image suddenly changed. Harry had the impression he was seeing her face was reflected in water, as it started to ripple lightly as if someone had disturbed the water with their fingers. When the vision returned clearly, the image was very different from the previous one.

It was still Hermione, but this time her face was pale and thin. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail; instead of her school uniform, she was wearing a simple grey robe.

Harry's heart was invaded by a deep worry, mixed with sadness and discouragement. Were these Hermione's feelings at that moment?

It looked as though she was looking at herself in a mirror. She then lowered her head and rinsed her face with some water. She dried her face with a white, clean towel and turned around, looking at the place in which she found herself in that moment.

Through Hermione's eyes, Harry was able to see that it was like a small, round room. The walls appeared to be made of thatched straw and the floor was covered with dust. There were no tables or wardrobes, or other furniture of any sort. All there was was a small single bed in a corner of the room; in the bed lay a woman, her face half-covered with bandages. Harry instinctively knew that the woman was Mrs. Granger, Hermione's mum. She looked extremely weak and fragile.

Hermione moved closer, and, sighing deeply, sat on a nearby stool. “How do you feel, Mum?” she asked, kindly brushing her mother's hand.

Mrs. Granger slowly opened her eyes and tried to force herself to say a few words, but she couldn't mange.

“Shhh, it's all right, don't force yourself. Everything will be fine. I'm sure they'll find Dad soon. We have to trust Dumbledore and the rest of the Order,” Hermione whispered, smiling slightly. Mrs. Granger nodded and then closed her eyes again, trying to sleep.

Harry could clearly feel that Hermione wanted to cry and release her discouragement, but she held back her tears, not wanting worrying her mother.

He desperately wanted to talk to her, to let her know that he was with her in that moment, but he couldn't. “Hermione!” Harry called, but she wasn't able to hear him, or realize that he was near. “Hermione, it's me, Harry!”

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Suddenly, she turned toward the door, her eyes widening in surprise. She just heard a voice, she was sure of it. She stood up and went over to the door, and then put her ear up next to it and listened.

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Harry quickly realized that his attempt to communicate with her had obviously suceeded. Excited, he decided to try again.

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“Hermione… I… I just wanted to tell you that …” He was so nervous that he couldn't find the right words.

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“Harry?” whispered Hermione, feeling her heart beating faster and faster. Her legs trembling, she stretched her arm toward the wall, looking for support. “Oh, no. Am I going crazy, or what?”

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“No! No, you're not going crazy,” he replied, doing his best to reassure her. “You know that I'd always be with you… everywhere.”

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Hermione nodded. She closed her eyes and warm tears fell down her cheeks.

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“I need to know how to get to you. As soon as I get there, together, we'll…”

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“No! I can't tell you, Harry,” Hermione replied resolutely. “I promised. Please, try to understand…”

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Upon hearing those words, Harry felt a sharp pain in his chest... and then felt and saw something weird. It was as if his soul was going to be sucked out of him in a multi-coloured whirlwind. “Hermione, Hermione!”

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Despite his desperate calls, he knew that he was now too far from her. Sadly, the vision ended without any further warning. He didn't even have the time to tell her how much he loved her. When he finally opened his eyes, he found himself lying on his bed again. Feeling confused and helpless, he punched his pillow in anger.

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After a while, he was able to think clearly again. For the first time, he had been able to reach Hermione telepathically. Finally, he knew that she was okay and that she was hiding somewhere safe, even if it was far from him.

This new vision had been more detailed than the others, but he still wasn't able to figure out exactly where to go to find her.

Next time I'll do better, he promised himself, determined.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Oh no! They're coming already, he thought, afraid to face his roommates. He jumped out of bed, took his winter cloak and his Firebolt out of his wardrobe, then rushed to the door to get out before anyone came in, but… it was too late.

The door opened and Ron was there. His arm was bandaged and in a sling tied around his neck. His face still bore the signs of his horrible adventure on the Astronomy Tower a few days before. His red hair was more ruffled than usual.

Both boys frowned at each other for a few seconds without saying a single word. Then, Harry put his cloak on and headed for the door.

“You don't even say hello to your best friend?” Ron scolded him.

“Hello,” Harry whispered, avoiding his gaze.

Without warning, Ron closed the door in Harry's face, blocking the passageway.

Harry sighed deeply and unwillingly turned toward him. “I'm in a hurry.”

“Yeah, I've noticed,” Ron commented sarcastically. “That's why I used an excuse to get out of McGonagall's class earlier. I couldn't let you slip out again. You can't avoid me forever, Harry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, come on! What happened to Hermione's parents is horrible, but it's not my fault. Just tell me what's wrong with you and why you won't talk to me.”

Harry felt his blood boiling in his veins. How was it possible for Ron not to realize the seriousness of the situation? He was acting like a stupid, selfish little boy who only cared about himself.

“Do you really want to know what you've done?” shouted Harry, staring at Ron furiously. There was so much anger inside he felt he needed to release it all and blame Ron for everything that was happening to him, even if it was the most childish way to react.

“Well, for starters, you've filled the school with a bunch of stupid lies. You've told everyone that I'm taking your place during tomorrow's task, without telling me first.”

Ron looked very surprised about that. “B-but, I thought we agreed about that. We talked in the hospital wing, remember?”

“Wrong! You were talking while I just sat and listened to you without giving a reply. It's different!”

Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head as if to underline the absurdity of the entire situation. “All right, all right. But I'm sure you won't just stand aside and not take my place during the task. You don't want to help your best friend in need? And please, don't tell me that you're afraid to face the stupid Defence task, because I wouldn't believe you.”

“You're right, you know? It's just a stupid task, and I won't face it,” Harry replied, determined.

Stunned, Ron's eyes widened while Harry added, “I won't waste my time in some useless school tournament. I've got more important things to do!”

“You mean like wandering around in the gardens or closing yourself up in your room for hours, wallowing in your own pitying?” Ron showed his disdain for his friend's behaviour. “If you want to do something useful, why don't you just leave the school and go look for Hermione? After all, you're the only hero between the two of us, right?”

“That's exactly what I should do,” Harry replied, seriously. He then pushed Ron to the side and left the room, slamming the door.

He couldn't tell his friend that the only reason he hadn't gone out to look for Hermione was because he didn't want to leave Ron and Ginny alone.

“I don't know you anymore, Harry Potter! You're like a stranger to me anymore!” Ron's voice filled the common room after he threw the door open again as Harry descended the last few stairs. It drew the attentions of the few students who were sitting nearby.

Harry turned abruptly and raised his head to the landing, from where Ron was frowning down at him. “I could say the same about you!” he shouted, forcing himself to not add anything worse.

He the returned to his retreat and rushed to the passageway, doing his best to not look at the other students who were watching at him as if he was a rare, wild beast. Harry passed through the Fat Lady's portrait and ran off down the corridors.

***O***

The bell had finally rung, announcing the end of morning lessons. Theo Mustle left Professor McGonagall's class and rushed through the corridors, looking around warily. He seemed more nervous than usual that day. His school uniform disheveled, his tie was almost completely unknotted. He'd even forgotten to slick back his black hair, which was now extremely ruffled and falling over his forehead.

He mixed into the crowd of students and headed for the stairs, hoping they would stop changing directions, as they tended to do.

Finally, he reached the Charms classroom and found a few sixth years still inside after the end of the lesson.

I absolutely have to talk to Lily Jane, he said to himself nervously. We need to straighten this out, once and for all.

He peeked into the room and saw professor Flitwick talking to Lily Jane and Amanda Fawcett. He assumed the teacher was discussing something related to the last lesson.

Theo sighed, annoyed, and slowly leaned against the stone wall. He then took a book out from his school bag and opened it, pretending to read.

When I decided to follow her on this... adventure, I promised myself... he thought.

Suddenly, his mind started to drift back into his memories. As if he was jumping into a Pensieve, images of the past appeared in front of his eyes.

*** FLASHBACK***

The sun had just set behind the low buildings, worn down by time. Night, lit only by a full moon had finally swallowed the sad landscape. Theo hastened along the road, the shadow of his cloak fluttering on the walls. Shortly, he found himself in front of a house that was also dirty and run down, like the others. He stopped and knocked on the door, looking around to be sure that nobody had followed him.

“Who's there?” asked the voice of a woman, coming from the inside.

“It's Theo.”

The door slowly opened. In front of the boy stood a middle-aged woman. Actually, she only looked as though she'd crossed the half-century mark; she was actually much younger than she appeared. She was not tall, and her brown hair was streaked with grey, gathered back in a low ponytail. Her face was pale and thin, crisscrossed by deep wrinkles under her eyes and around the corners of her mouth. Her black robe, devoid of any decoration or ornamentation of sort, looked tired and crumpled; it matched the air the woman emanated.

She stared at him for a few seconds, not saying a single word or hinting of a smile. Suddenly, she grabbed the boy by the arm and dragged him inside the house. Finally, she peeked out and looked around the dark, deserted street.

“Did anyone follow you?” she asked, worriedly.

Theo cleared his voice, and assumed the most formal voice tone he could manage. He wasn't a careless little boy anymore! “I was careful! Don't worry.”

The woman closed the door and sealed it with a magical spell. She then turned to the boy. “Your father has gone mad!” she exclaimed sternly. “I expressly told him to come here in person. Instead, he sends you! Doesn't he know that it's extremely dangerous walking around after the sunset? Doesn't he know there's a curfew in this bloody town?”

Theo lowered his gaze, slightly embarrassed. “Well, actually… Mum's had another accident…”

The woman rolled her eyes. “What did she blow up this time?”

“The kitchen,” replied Theo promptly. He then quickly added, “but not the whole thing. Just the wall with the fireplace... the dining table... and two chairs.”

“Well! We can say goodbye to our only connection to the Floo network, then... thanks to your mother's stupid experiments.”

The woman's words caused Theo feel rather bad, but he forced himself to not show it. “Yeah, just stupid experiments…” he only commented. “But don't worry about the Floo network. Dad is trying to fix it. He says we'll be able to connect again tomorrow.”

The woman sighed deeply. “I hope so.” Without adding anything else, she hurried over to a small desk full of sheets of parchment. She took out a small, greasy piece of paper and scribbled a few sentences on it. “This is a top secret message,” she explained while writing. “I need you to give it to your father as soon as possible.”

Theo nodded. Waiting for her to finish writing, he raised his eyes and looked around the room. The inside of the house was rather old and ramshackle. The walls had long since lost their original colour, and mold was trying to take advantage of the situation, spreading along the corners of the ceiling. In the middle of the room was a square table, four chairs around it, each different from the other. The wall bookcase was almost empty; instead of books there were a few cups and some chipped dishes on the shelves. The complete absence of pictures or portraits gave the room a final touch of bleakness.

“Here you go.” The woman closed the parchment and sealed it. She then turned to the boy and handed him the roll. “Take care of it.”

“I will,” Theo replied, hiding the parchment under his cloak.

The woman rushed to the window and peered through the dirty curtains. “You should be careful on your way home. Last night, Martin McRory was attacked by a group of Dementors. They could still be hiding around in the dark.” She then turned to the boy and stared at him for a moment.

“What are you waiting for?”

“W-well, I… I was wondering if I could…” Theo stuttered, betraying his embarrassment.

“Yes?” the woman asked, frowning at him.

He then gathered all his courage before speaking. “I'd like to ask… if it isn't an inconvenience, I'd like to…”

A brief smile lit the woman's face, for a very short instant. “All right, you can go say hello to her. She's upstairs in her room.”

Theo smiled widely, his eyes shining in happiness.

“But no more than ten minutes. It's becoming late and you should be home already,” the woman scolded him.

“No more than ten minutes, I promise.” Theo hurried over to the wooden staircase and climbed the first three stairs before he stopped. He turned toward the woman one last time.

She looked like such a fragile and small thing, he thought, with that old black robe wrapped around her. But at the same time, her eyes wore a strong and determined expression, like a true warrior ready to fight.

“Thank you, Aunt Hermione.”

“Go on!” she exhorted him. He smiled and turned to continue on up from the ground floor to the corridor on the first floor.

There were only three doors. One was the bathroom while the other two were bedrooms. Theo knocked on the first one on his left.

“Lily, it's me. May I come in?”

“Theo? Is it really you?” the girl replied from inside the room.

Theo waited a few moments then knocked again. “I haven't got much time. Are you going to open the door or not?”

He heard a few muffled noises... hurried steps and wardrobe shutters opening and closing frantically. “I'm coming!”

The latch made a loud click and the door slowly opened. Lily Jane peeked out, keeping the door only half open.

Theo's heart jumped in his chest. In his opinion, Lily Jane was the most beautiful, the funnies and smartest girl in the world. She had just turned sixteen and was tall and slim, and had thick black hair that fell freely upon her shoulders. Her deep, shiny eyes were emerald green. They were her father's eyes.

“Theo! It's been ages. What brings you to this lost part of town?”

Theo made a funny grimace before replying. “Don't be silly! Come on, let me in! I need to talk to you.”

Lily looked uneasy, and stared worriedly at the stairs. “Well, I'm not sure if Mum would give you permission…”

“Don't worry, she just said it was okay,” Theo explained. “No more than ten minutes, but then I'll have to go home for a top secret delivery.”

The girl couldn't think of any other objections, and, almost unwillingly, let him in. “All right, then. I apologize in advance for the mess, but the housekeeper left a few weeks ago, stealing all of our Galleons, and my brand new broomstick as well.”

The boy smiled and entered, closing the door behind him. Lily Jane was obviously joking, since they've never had a housekeeper in their lives, nor any Galleons to spend, or even a new broomstick to ride. And the bedroom was proof of that. Lily Jane's room could be better described as a narrow closet than a real bedroom. There was only the essential furniture in there: a single bed under the small window, an old corner wardrobe, and a small desk full covered in sheets of parchment and quills. There weren't books or pictures in this room either.

But Theo didn't care about any of it. Even though his own house was much more comfortable, and his family better off than hers, he was accustomed to the bleakness of Lily's home. “Hey, your mum seemed a little more odd than usual. I was even lucky enough to get her permission to come in and say hello. Still, I was sure she'd give her permission, seeing as since she can't resist my charm,” Theo explained grinning, passing his fingers through his curly, carrot-coloured hair.

He moved forward and sat down on the bed. As he did, he kicked a traveling suitcase with his left foot, which was half-hidden under the bed.

“Are you going somewhere?” he asked lightly, not suspecting anything odd.

Lily Jane was standing in front of him. At his question, she started wringing her hands nervously. “Going somewhere? Not at all, why are you asking?”

“What's this for?” Theo pointed at the suitcase under his feet.

“Oh, that. Well, I just wanted to give away a few of my old clothes, that's all.” Lily moved closer and gave the suitcase a hard kick; it slid completely under the bed. “So then, tell me, Theo. How are your parents? I'm sure they're worried about you now. Don't you think it's time to go back home?”

Theo frowned at her. “Do you really want me to leave?”

“Oh, no! No, no, I'm happy to see you after such a long time. It's just that, well, you know how parents can get worried sometimes…”

Theo kept staring at Lily, his eyes narrowing. “You've planning something, aren't you?”

The girl sighed, annoyed, folding her arms across her chest. “Why do you always ask me the same question every time you come to visit?”

“Because you're still capable of running away again, never worrying about all the people who love you,” Theo explained, feeling his temper rising. “Do you remember what happened only a month ago? Your mother risked her life to come looking for you. She could have been sent to Azkaban for what she did!”

“Shhh! Will you lower your voice, please?” Lily warned him, staring at the door worriedly.

“No, I won't!”

Theo looked furious, and Lily feared that he could ruin her plans by telling her mother.

“All right, Mr. Know-it-all!” She sat by his side, on the bed, and started to explain what she had got in mind. “You want to know what I'm planning this time? The same thing as last time. I'm going out, looking for Dad. I'm going to do what Mum should have done ages ago, instead of giving up her research and closing herself up inside this horrible house. I bet she's already forgotten about Dad. She won't even allow me to keep a picture of him. Mum hates pictures!”

Theo shook his head, disappointed by her words. “I really can't understand you. You seem to enjoy yourself, tormenting your mum. Don't you see the state she's in? How desperate and sad she is already? She doesn't smile anymore, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't eat. And it's all your fault.”

“Well, she always exaggerates everything in her life anyway. By the way, this time, it won't be the same. This time, I know where to go and what to do.”

Theo stared at his friend disbelievingly. “Have you discovered where your Dad's hiding?”

Lily Jane didn't reply and turned her gaze away from him. She wasn't sure if she could tell him everything.

“You're worrying me,” the boy said, trying to encourage her to talk.

“You don't need to be. Besides, I won't be alone.”

That reply didn't help Theo calm down. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Lily Jane moved closer to him and lowered her voice even more. “Yesterday evening, while walking home, I met a warlock… a real warlock. He said he was from… from the past.”

“Where?”

“Shhh! From the past, you heard me! And, exactly from the time when my parents were young and still going to school.”

For an instant, Theo was tempted to grab Lily Jane by her shoulders and shake her vigorously, to make her come to her senses. But instead, he forced himself to remain calm. “What exactly did this warlock want from you?” he asked, more and more worried.

“He told me that he had a plan, but that he needed my help. He also said that he knew how to change our time, the present. I only need to go back with him to the past and…”

“That warlock is crazy,” Theo argued.

“No, he's not! I thought about it the whole night and I realized that it could work.”

“What could work? This is probably some trap set up by Death Eaters. You know they would love to catch us by surprise, unarmed.”

Lily Jane pretended to not hear a single word and started to daydream. “Could you imagine it? I'd be able to visit Hogwarts, the famous school of Witchcraft and Wizardry... walking around inside, seeing it as it was before it was destroyed during the war. I could change the course of events. I could… meet my father.”

“I was wrong, Lily Jane. Now I'm sure of it: you're crazy too.”

“Can't you try to understand, Theo?” The girl desperately wanted her friend to realize how important this was for her.

“We've tried everything these past years. We've been united despite all the difficulties we faced. We've battled, we've maintained the Order of the Phoenix, even though we've lost many of our dearest friends.” Lily Jane felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she held them back for not showing her fragility. “Voldemort has…”

“Don't say that name!” Theo cut her off, upset, but she went on, speaking the name again with more strength.

“Voldemort… Voldemort's now too strong for any of us. We can't defeat him alone. We need help from a real hero. We need help from… Harry Potter.”

When Lord Voldemort won the wizarding war, before the birth of Lily Jane, all of the half-bloods and Muggle-borns were confined into numerous ghettoes spread all around Europe. Hermione Granger-Potter, a Muggle-born, and wife of Harry Potter, had been condemned to live in the Hogsmeade ghetto, along with her daughter, Lily Jane. Her husband's entire fortune had been confiscated and she had been forced to live in extreme poverty.

Her only real means of support came from the charity and help offered by nearby families that had been luckier than her. Families like Theo's, who was the son of Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood. Although they were pureblood wizards and had not had their possessions seized, they had decided to live in the half-blood ghetto, sharing the sad and humiliating destiny of Hermione and Lily Jane.

As soon as Lord Voldemort rose to power, he forbade all children living in the ghettos from attending any kind of wizarding school. None of them, he felt, was worthy enough to learn magic. Only the children of purebloods were allowed to attend Hogwarts... or at least, what remained of it. The ruins of the ancient castle stood out against Hogsmeade sky for years, a warning to all enemies of the Dark Lord.

Non-pureblood families weren't allowed to own any magical books, or even to read them. The magical knowledge that remained was handed down from parent to child.

Lily Jane spoke again, feeling a painful knot in her throat. “That monster has taken everything away from us. Our freedom, our honour, our dignity! He's closed us up in this prison disguised as a town. He took away the opportunity to attend school, to even own books! My decision is made. I don't have anything to lose!”

“You do have something to lose... your life.”

A tense silence fell between them. Lily Jane averted her gaze. She had already made her decision and nobody would stop her. Theo was realizing this more and more as every second passed. He knew how stubborn his friend could be. “When are you going to leave?” he asked, resigned.

“Tonight,” she replied, not looking at him.

“Where are you going to meet the warlock?”

Lily frowned at him. “I'm not telling you. I know you, you won't let me go.”

Theo sighed deeply. “Just shut it! I'm coming with you.”

“What?”

“I said that I'm going with you,” the boy replied, emphasizing each word. “You're far too reckless to go through the doors of time all by yourself. You need someone calm, with his feet planted firmly on the ground. In short, you need someone like me.”

Lily Jane raised an eyebrow and smiled at him. It had been a long time since Theo had seen her smile like that. He always felt she was so cute when she smiled. Her deep, emerald green eyes shone with a special light.

Theo wouldn't change his mind. He swore to himself that he would protect her, even if it cost him his own life.

That night, Theo and Lily Jane faced their destiny, and they did it together.

*** END OF FLASHBACK***

“Theo? What're you doing here?”

Lily Jane's voice brought him back to reality. She had just walked out of the classroom and was surprised to see him there.

Theo suddenly woke up from his daydream. He grabbed his best friend's arm, forcing her to follow him. “We need to talk.”

“All right, all right. Calm down, why don't you?”

They found an empty classroom nearby and entered. He sealed the door with magic to prevent anyone from hearing them.

Lily Jane rolled her eyes. “I know already what you're going to say.”

“I don't think you do,” Theo replied sharply. “Listen to me. I thought about the whole thing all night and I think that you were right. Yes, we've ruined everything, and the situation is out of control now. We did our best, but we failed. That's why I've made my decision: we need to go back home.”

Theo had spoken so quickly that it took Lily a few seconds to understand what he was saying.

“No we don't!” she exclaimed, disappointed. “Don't you remember what Erudio told me last time we met? He doesn't think that everything is lost. Besides, you didn't take into count the dreams. Harry has been dreaming of me ever since he returned to school in September. Erudio said that a strong connection has been created between Harry and I. I think that this is a good sign and I know we can still make it.”

Theo frowned. “I'm still having serious doubts about Erudio's wisdom,” he replied, starting to lose his temper. “The truth is that Magnus Erudio brought us here without any real plan in mind. He's just a foolish old warlock.”

Lily Jane felt the need to reassure him. “Theo, please. Trust me. Everything will be all right. I'm planning on talking to Harry today.”

“What do you mean you're planning to talk to Harry today?” he asked, suspiciously.

“I'm going to convince him to not take part in tomorrow's task. You'll see, everything will settle down,” she replied calmly.

Theo sighed. “How will you convince him? I'm sure he won't listen to you.”

“Well, I'm going to force him, if necessary!”

Theo stared at her, resigned. “You're the most stubborn girl I've ever met in my life. You're just like your father.”

Lily smiled, proud for the comparison. “Meanwhile, you're careless, just like your father. If I were you, I'd work on my Metamorphus Charm.” She stretched out a hand and ran her fingers through Theo's ruffled hair. His ruffled locks were changing their colour very fast, from dark black into a carrot orange, as bright as any other Weasley.

Theo felt his head nervously. “Damn! It happens when I'm overly worried.” He performed the spell wordlessly, and his hair became black again.

He then turned to Lily Jane once more. “Let's make a agreement. If you can talk to your father and change his mind without telling him our true identity, or about what's going to happen in the future, well, I'll apologize to you and Erudio. But if anything goes wrong, we return home tomorrow morning.”

Lily thought about it for a moment. “Um… all right, then. I can assure you though that all of the puzzle pieces will fall into place, in the end.

They both shook hands, and then rushed out of the classroom, closing the door behind them.

Unfortunately for them, that classroom wasn't at all empty. During their little chat, someone had been hidden in the dark, listening to it.

A brown haired girl with cat-like eyes grinned in satisfaction. She moved out of her hideaway, reached the door, and when she was sure that the corridor was empty, ran as fast as she could to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. She needed to pass on to Draco Malfoy all of the precious information she had learned. She needed to regain the attentions of the boy she was in love with. The fact was that, since the beginning of the school term, Draco seemed totally focused on the Dark Lord's plans He was hardly able to spend any time with her.

Pansy Parkinson felt that if Draco could deliver Harry Potter into the Dark Lord's hands, then she and he would be free to resume their love affair.

In her mind and heart, their two names were united for life. Nothing and nobody would come between them, not even Lord Voldemort himself.

***O***

Harry walked quickly through the main gate of Hogwarts castle. Looking for a little bit of peace and quiet, he headed out to the gardens, climbed up onto his Firebolt, and kicked off the ground. In a few seconds, he found himself flying in the air. Finally, he was free, in the sky.

The icy wind stung his face, but he didn't care. The entire world lay below. High, snowy hills surrounded him like a crown full of white jewels, the large Forbidden Forest moved in the wind as though it were breathing. The castle of Hogwarts now in the distance looked like an old man, sitting tiredly upon a rock, leaning toward the lake.

After a few dangerous turns, Harry pointed his broomstick toward one of the higher hills. It was his secret corner, a quiet place where he could think.

He landed lightly on the snowy ground and stood there, enjoying the beautiful landscape. The sky was filled with grey clouds and the wind was becoming more and more icy. Harry tightened his cloak around himself and sank his face into his woolen scarf.

Despite making it to his secret retreat, he was unable to find the peace he was desperately looking for. He closed his eyes and in his mind Hermione's suffering face appeared. He felt a sharp pain in his heart and the desire to be with her became even stronger, almost unbearable. His fists tightened in anger.

Oddly, he started to feel someone's presence. He didn't know why, but he was sure that someone had followed him to this otherwise lonely place.

“Harry!” Lily Jane's voice didn't surprise him. In her right hand she was still holding the broomstick that had brought her up here. Her clothes, along with her black hair, had obviously been assailed by the fierce wind.

The young wizard didn't hide his disappointment, nor did he turn to her while speaking. “How did you find me?”

At first, Lily Jane didn't know what to say. She'd used the Marauder's Map of course, but she couldn't tell him that. “I've been looking for you everywhere,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I couldn't find you in the castle, nor in the gardens. There was just the sky left. I need to talk to you.”

“I don't want to talk to anybody. Go away, leave me alone.” Harry's words didn't allow her a chance to reply, but Jane wasn't going to give up.

“Please, just listen to me, Harry.” Lily Jane moved a few steps toward him, getting closer. The wind was blowing furiously, making it difficult to even keep her eyes open. “Tomorrow, you'll compete in the Tournament. The whole school is talking about it.”

Harry didn't reply, and didn't turn to look at her. His eyes were still fixed on the castle, while his cloak waved in the wind like a dark flag.

“I know some things about the Tournament, and I think that you should be aware of them.” Lily stopped for a few moments, waiting a reaction from Harry, which didn't come. Gathering all of her Gryffindor courage, she brought up the subject that was most important. “Please, don't take part in the task tomorrow.”

Harry smiled, finding the situation extremely odd. While his best friend Ron was doing the impossible to convince him to participate in the tournament, Jane Porter was doing her best to convince him otherwise.

On the one side there was his loyal mate, while on the other there was Jane, a complete stranger who was pretending to be his friend, probably just because she wanted to be closer to the famous Harry Potter... or because of any number of other unknown reasons. Who was he to trust?

Then, Hermione's words came to mind:

“We can't forget that Jane hasn't been completely sincere with us. Why didn't she tell us that her father was an Auror working for the Ministry? From the moment she set foot in this school, she's done the near-impossible to draw everyone's attention onto her. And when she really does have something to be proud of, her father being an Auror, she doesn't say anything about that.

“What about her eyes, as well? Why did she change her eye colour from green to brown? What is it that she's desperately trying to hide? I'm sorry, but I still can't trust Jane Porter, and I beg you to pay very close attention when you're with her.”

Hermione was right. There were still just too many shadows lurking about Jane's situation to be able to trust her.

“Why do you care so much about me?” Harry asked, without showing the dilemma he was facing inside himself at that moment.

“Well…” Lily Jane wasn't sure what to say. How could she be able to warn him without revealing the truth, and what was waiting for him in the future? Finally, she decided to be direct. “Someone is plotting against you.”

Harry slowly turned and they were now both face to face.

Jane stood motionless, despite that the wind was blowing furiously against her skirt and her thick hair, as though she were on a stormy sea. Her face was fiercely determined, her brown eyes shone with a special light.

“I want you to speak plainly. I don't like all of this mystery.” Harry had every intention to try to prove what she was after, and maybe make her confess whatever secret it was she was hiding, once and for all.

“I'm sure you've already realized that all of the accidents that occurred during the last few months weren't just coincidences,” Jane explained. “The killing of all the school owls, Mrs. Norris turned into a gargoyle, the break-in to McGonagall's office, the attack against Ronald Weasley... even the kidnapping of Hermione's father.

“Everything has been planned in great detail. I think that the first accidents were used as a diversion, so that everybody would think that were just silly student pranks. But recently, the situation has become more serious. I'm sure that your participation in tomorrow's challenge, taking Weasley's place, is all part of the plan.”

“I congratulate you on your keen observational skills,” Harry commented with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. He had reached the same conclusions as well; he wasn't stupid. But he wanted to provoke her just the same, maybe push her to disclose her secrets.

Lily Jane wasn't intimidated by Harry's attitude and continued with her explanation. “Theo and I have been investigating since the beginning of the school year. Even that night of the Halloween feast, do you remember? When we met in the common room?” It was time for Lily Jane to make some confessions. She couldn't say the whole truth, but she knew she had to give Harry some good explanations, something that made sense.

“I left the Great Hall with Theo, before the end of the feast, because we were following the tracks of a certain person. This person wasn't at the banquet that night since he was about to implement his sinister plan and…”

“And break in McGonagall's office unseen, to steal some confidential documents,” Harry finished the sentence for her.

“Exactly.” Lily Jane smiled. It looked like Harry was starting to understand. “As Theo and I expected, this person didn't find in McGonagall's office what he was looking for. That's why he started to change his plans afterwards. He wanted to get at you directly, and so he thought to hit your best friends. That could possibly explain the attack against Ronald and Hermione's parents. They want you to be completely alone.”

Harry didn't reply immediately. He was still thinking over Jane's words. The situation was starting to make sense. But there was something still missing: the name of the guilty person.

“Why should I believe you?” asked Harry, abruptly.

“W-what are you talking about?” The smile on Jane's face faded away.

The sky was becoming darker and snow was starting to fall on the ground again.

“Why should I believe that it isn't you and Theo who are culprits?” Harry wanted to give his version of the facts. “Let's start from the beginning, shall we? First, you killed all of the school owls and transfigured Mrs. Norris, as a diversion. Then, during the Halloween feast, you secretly left the Great Hall to put into action your `sinister' plan. When I caught up with you in the common room, you were alone, as you remember. At the same time we were talking, Theo was probably forcing the door on McGonagall's office in order to search through her documents. Then he stupefied Pansy Parkinson, lest he be caught with his hands in the cookie jar…”

Lily Jane had to admit that Harry's version did make sense, if seen from his point of view. How could she ever be able to make him change his mind? How could she explain that she and Theo weren't guilty?

“Since Theo didn't find anything useful, he decided to get closer to Hermione and try to trick her with his flirting and flattery,” said Harry in a more accusatory tone. “By doing so, he was hoping to discover Albus Dumbledore's secrets and then finally pass this information to Voldemort.” He had been careful not to mention the Arcane Path or the Rebirth Flame, so that he didn't betray the secrecy of that information.

Lily Jane shuddered. “It's not true! We aren't Death Eaters!” she shouted, doing her best to protect her honour. How was it possible that Harry actually thought that she was one of Lord Voldemort's servants?

Ignoring her objections, Harry went on. “Not happy, you planned to attack Ron and make him tell you as much information as possible.” Harry recalled Ron's odd behavior after the accident and realized that maybe there was a reasonable explanation for it. “Since he didn't know anything, you cast an Unforgivable Curse, the Imperius. You brainwashed him. You forced him to step down from the tournament… to make me compete.”

“No, you're wrong! It doesn't make any sense. Besides, Theo was lying in the hospital wing when Ron was attacked. I'm trying to convince you not to take part in the tournament, not the opposite. Please, believe me.”

“What's going to happen during the challenge? What horrible things have you planned for tomorrow? Why are you asking me not to go? Maybe you're having second thoughts? What's happening? The guilt isn't letting you sleep at night?”

Lily Jane was shaking her head. Why wasn't he able to understand?

“Why should I trust you?” asked Harry, frowning at her. “Who are you really and what are you really doing here? Since your arrival at Hogwarts, you and Theo have done nothing but cause us trouble. Now you're asking me to trust you? What is it that you're hiding, Jane Porter?”

The girl sighed deeply, doing her best to remain calm even though she was tempted to shout the truth. “Harry, please, you've got to trust me. I'm on your side. I thought that you were going to understand, after all the dreams you've having during the last few months.”

Harry jumped in shock. “What do you know about my dreams?”

Lily Jane raised a hand to her mouth. Accidentally, she let slip something dangerous; had she spoiled everything?

Suddenly, Harry saw the whole thing clearly in his mind. “You… you tormented me night after night. It's your fault that I almost went crazy with all those odd dreams.”

“It's not what you think. Please believe me, it's just been a … I never wanted to…”

Harry had had enough and needed to know the truth. He took out his wand and pointed it at the girl. “It's time to drop your mask, Jane Porter. Your little games are over.”

Reveal your secrets! Harry thought the magical words, casting the spell.

“Ahhh!” Jane covered her face with her hands, shouting from the pain.

“I'm sorry, but I needed to know the truth.” Harry lowered his wand and slowly moved toward her.

Lily Jane felt her heart beating faster. The moment she had feared the most had arrived. She lowered her trembling hands, revealing her beautiful, green eyes. So similar to her father's.

Harry stared at her, entranced. All of his anger, all his doubts simply disappeared. He lost himself in those deep, green eyes, and was certain that they could never lie to him.

“I'm… I'm so sorry,” cried Lily Jane. She then picked up her broomstick and ran away in the snow.

“Wait!” shouted Harry, running behind her. He didn't know why, but he needed to reach her. He felt that there still were too many things that needed to be cleared up between them.

Lily Jane kept running, tears streaming down her face. She was certain she'd spoiled everything this time. Her change the future had been destroyed. Harry now hated her. He thought that she was a Death Eater. How could she change his mind now?

Her vision obscured by her tears, she didn't realize that there was a hole in the snowy ground, and suddenly fell down.

Harry finally caught up with her. Hearing her crying, he knelt down at her side, not knowing what to say. Meanwhile, the snow was starting to become heavier. The furious wind was whipping the snowflakes into odd whirlwinds in the air.

Jane looked so fragile and helpless, Harry thought. Sitting in the snow, she was rubbing her ankle with one hand and wiping the tears from her face with the other. Oddly, he was almost feeling guilty for what he had just done.

Lily Jane lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze. “You don't need to pretend to be worried about me.”

Harry felt embarrassed. After everything he had said to her, he didn't know how to behave now. He was feeling confused.

Lily Jane gathered her strength and slowly stood up, feeling a sharp pain in her sprained ankle. Before leaving him, she wanted to try to warn him one last time. “About tomorrow's challenge, you know that it's going to be a trap. Draco Malfoy and his cronies have already planned it. Please be careful.”

With these words, Jane climbed on her broomstick and took off from the ground and into the air. Harry stood there in silence, fighting with his conflicting feelings.

***O***

The following day, after breakfast, everything was ready for the second challenge in the School Tournament. This time it was the Defence Against the Dark Arts challenge, and it was going to take place down in the castle's dungeons. For the occasion, Professor McGonagall had transfigured the place into a long maze of rooms and corridors. Completely surrounding it, the walls had been magically pushed out and turned into seating, making it like a big, indoor stadium.

All of the students appeared eager for the event and were already filing into their seats. The teachers were already sitting on the main podium. Professor McGonagall was wearing her best robe, Severus Snape was wearing his usual frown, and Hagrid had even brushed his hair for the occasion.

All amongst the students, an excited buzz could be heard. They were waiting for the entrance of the four champions, one for each House.

When all of the seats were full, Albus Dumbledore himself took his place in the middle of the main podium, much to the surprise of those present.

“Good morning to you all, and welcome to the second task of this year's Hogwarts House Tournament,” the headmaster's voice thundered throughout the wide dungeon. His face was more serious than usual.

Nobody had known that Dumbledore had returned to the castle that the previous night. The reason for his long absence from Hogwarts was still a mystery to most of them.

“I'm proud to introduce to you the four champions, who are to face the Defence Against the Dark Arts task today. For the House of Ravenclaw, please come forward… Mr. Terry Boot.”

A roar of applause welcomed the champion, who slowly climbed the stairs of the podium and went over to the right side of the headmaster. Terry Boot was a short, strong boy. Even though he had been sorted into Ravenclaw, people who knew him well often said he was more brawn than brain.

When the applause ended, Dumbledore spoke again. “For the house of Hufflepuff, please come forward… Mr Justin Finch-Fletchley.”

Again, all of the spectators greeted the second champion with applause. Justin was a good boy, as well as Muggle-born. The others seventh year students recalled his bad experience five years earlier when the Tom Riddle's basilisk had turned him into a statue.

“For the House of Slytherin, please come forward… Mr. Draco Malfoy.”

Draco too was greeted by applause, even if less than the others, considering it only came mostly from the Slytherins. Tall and fierce, with his blonde locks slicked back, he entered with determined footsteps and joined the headmaster on his left side, showing his usual arrogant grin.

A few more seconds of silence, and Dumbledore announced the name of the last and most awaited champion.

“Finally, for the House of Gryffindor, please come forward… Mr. Harry Potter.”

A great roar of applause greeted his name. Despite this though, the Gryffindor champion had not showed up yet.

Dumbledore called him a second time. “Please, Mr. Harry Potter, come forward.”

This time, Harry made his entry. He climbed up the few steps that separated him from the podium and again, a roar of applause filled the dungeon. Harry lifted his gaze up into the crowd. In his eyes wasn't any shadow of doubt or fear. His hand was firm and settled. At his side, Draco was frowning at him.

“Now, I'm going to explain briefly a few rules of today's task. The four champions are going to…”

While Dumbledore was talking, Draco moved closer to Harry and whispered in his direction. “It's the beginning of the end for you, Potter.”

Harry kept looking at the crowd. “I suggest you not overestimate yourself, Malfoy. Or you could get a very bad surprise.”

More than a normal school tournament, this was starting to look like something far more important. The games were over now. It was a personal contest between the two of them, who had been enemies from the day they met.

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