Chapter 17 - A Helping Hand
For a moment, Harry felt frozen. Whatever he had expected to find at the school gates this turn of events was about as far away from that as he could have imagined. His momentary paralysis gave him time to weigh up Snape; his skin seemed somehow sallower than usual, though Harry accepted this could be due to the lack of light around, but he also appeared somewhat bedraggled and untidy. No matter how much Harry had always detested the sight of Snape he always looked well presented.
"You!" Harry breathed.
"Potter," Snape sneered by way of reply.
Harry righted himself at the sound of his name escaping the lips of this most hated of men. His wand was out quick as a flash, pointing at the small target where Harry assumed Snape's black heart might have been.
"Harry, I don't think that's a good idea," Hermione whispered at his side.
"I think I know best on this one, Hermione," said Harry, barely able to believe that she was trying to talk him out of this.
"Please yourself," Hermione sighed. Harry ignored her for the most part, but there was lack of conviction in the way he performed the Disarming spell.
"Stupefy!" he cried. It took only a moment to remember why Hermione was always worth listening to. Harry's spell shot from the end of his wand, hit the gates separating him from Snape and rebounded back, smashing him squarely in the chest. He was thrown back several feet by the impact and landed with an uncomfortable thud on the path behind. His wand span in the air and came down neatly for Hermione to catch.
"Now, you know I'm not the kind to say `I told you so,'" Hermione began as Harry got gingerly to his feet and rejoined her.
"Then don't start being one now," Harry snapped as he interrupted her.
"There's no need to be like that, Harry," said Hermione, her voice betraying a trace of hurt. "I'm only looking out for you, you know."
"Then in future why not just tell me when something like that's going to happen before I make myself look like an idiot. You may enjoy riddles but they aren't my thing."
"You're right, I'm sorry," said Hermione solemnly.
"What a pair of dunderheads you are," cackled Snape. "You would have thought, in your position, that you would be concentrating on bigger issues but instead you bicker between yourselves. The Dark Lord knows all too well that your greatest weakness is each other. He really has little to fear from either of you."
"I wouldn't be so confident about yourself," said Harry.
"Really?" said Snape sarcastically. "Have you developed hitherto unknown skills, Potter? Or are you just relying on someone else's talents yet again? You really are a joke. Without Dumbledore you're just a puny little boy; just as vulnerable, just as powerless to prevent the inevitable."
"Vulnerable, eh?" said Harry. "You can't even get through the gates! How dangerous can you be?"
"The magic on this school is older and more powerful than anything you could even perceive," said Snape. "But like all barriers there is a way through."
"And why exactly would you want to get through?" asked Harry.
"The day I start sharing my personal business with you, Potter, is the day Hagrid becomes a member of the League of Geniuses," Snape sneered. "And in any case, do you really think I would just come out and answer your question? Interrogation seems to be yet another area in which you have the skills and subtlety of a troll."
"Well perhaps you could teach him now that it looks like Voldemort has kicked you out," said Hermione.
Snape recoiled slightly. "The Dark Lord has not kicked me out."
"Really?" said Hermione. "Just trying to break into the school in the dead of night to swim with the Giant Squid then, I suppose?"
"I offer you the same response I gave to Potter just a moment ago," said Snape. "Or are you deaf as well as, hem, blind?"
Snape nodded towards Harry as a signal of his insult.
"The day I take advice from you on my love life will be the day that greasy skin and straggly curtain hair becomes the height of fashion, and though you dream of that day I can't see it arriving any time soon."
Harry chuckled as Snape's expression darkened through the gates. A scraping from down the path drew everyone's attention and Harry turned to see Hagrid loping up the steep bank towards them.
"What you two doin' out this late?" he asked. "You shouldn't be out wanderin' the grounds."
"We saw Snape standing at the school gates and came to ward him off," said Harry.
"Snape?" said Hagrid, alarmed. "Where?"
"Right…there," said Harry, who was surprised to find, on spinning back around, that Snape has vanished. Comfortingly, the gates were still firmly shut.
"He was here a moment ago," said Harry.
"He was," said Hermione, nodding to Hagrid in agreement. "He must have Disapparated."
"He was outside the grounds," said Harry in thought.
"Well who am I to question the word of the both of ya?" said Hagrid. "Should tell McGonagall first thing. C'mon, I'll walk ya back up to the castle."
There was no talking on the walk back up and the atmosphere was distinctly edgy. Harry was peering through the darkness, trying to pick out any shadow that might be Snape stealing around the grounds. But there was none to be seen and soon enough he and Hermione were bidding goodnight to Hagrid and making their way towards Gryffindor Tower.
"What do you think he was after?" said Harry before the portrait had even swung closed.
"Take your pick," replied Hermione. "Could have been any of a hundred things. None of them good."
"Well at least we know he can't get in," said Harry. "That's something."
"For now," said Hermione darkly.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Harry," said Hermione exasperatedly. "If Snape was trying to break into Hogwarts in the dead of night then there is obviously something he wants, or something he wants to do. Don't tell me that all your experiences of the last six years have taught you nothing. You don't really think that just because we stopped him from concentrating on the protection charms once that he won't try again?"
"Well, no, of course not," said Harry unconvincingly. "But he must know that we are going to tell McGonagall or the Order and that it won't be as easy for him."
"Harry - do you really think that Snape is at all worried about McGonagall?" asked Hermione. "The snake killed Dumbledore. McGonagall is powerful but nowhere near as much as Dumbledore or, I'm sorry to say, anywhere near as strong as Snape."
Harry made to argue but lost heart when he thought that Hermione was probably right. They were now sat beside the fire, its crumbling embers throwing the room into a subtle red relief.
"Then we have to do something," said Harry after a few silent moments. "He may not be afraid of McGonagall or the Order but he will be wary of me. That's something at least."
"But what do you expect to do?" asked Hermione. "Patrol the castle perimeter morning, noon and night? That's not realistic, is it? Besides, you need to be fresh and alert in case anything unexpected arises. Cant have the Boy Wonder Who Lived fighting Voldemort, Snape and goodness knows who else at the same time he's fighting his own fatigue."
"Don't call me that," said Harry meekly. "I don't like hearing you say it."
"Why not?" asked Hermione. "I quite like the idea of being Mrs Chosen One. Oh…"
Hermione suddenly turned away. Harry felt the awkwardness wash over him at a stroke. It took him a moment to realise why as he processed what Hermione had inadvertently suggested. Oddly, he didn't feel quite as embarrassed about it."
"What's up?" he asked.
"Oh, well, you know," said Hermione distantly. "I didn't mean - I mean, I didn't not mean… if you know what I mean?"
"Not really," said Harry smirking. "It's ok."
"It is?"
"Yeah," said Harry rising. "Besides, my mum and dad only started going out in seventh year and this would have been ours. Night."
Harry left her grinning alone thinking this was a pretty good way to part.
* * *
In Headmistress McGonagall's office the next morning the atmosphere was tense as Harry retold the story of his night-time meeting with Snape. Professor McGonagall listened closely to Harry's words, her face visibly contorting every time Harry mentioned the name of his most hated Hogwarts teacher. When he was done they both sat very quietly; what Professor McGonagall was thinking Harry couldn't even guess - her expression was stern but then it always was anyway so that gave nothing away. Harry, for his part, merely occupied himself by looking around the circular office, lamenting the warmth and comfort which had abandoned it with the passing of Dumbledore.
Presently, Professor McGonagall spoke. "So you believe Severus Snape was trying to break into Hogwarts?"
"Yes," said Harry, fighting the urge to extol the obviousness of events.
"And you say Hermione Granger was with you, and that both she and Hagrid can corroborate this story?"
"Hermione can," said Harry. "But when Hagrid turned up Snape disappeared. He must have Disapparated because one minute he was there and the next he was gone."
"And how did his mood seem?" asked McGonagall.
"H-his mood?" asked Harry, thrown by the question.
"Yes, his mood, Potter," McGonagall repeated firmly. "His manner - was it agitated, angry, desperate?"
"I couldn't really tell," said Harry. "It was dark and he blended into the night. He was his usual git self when he spoke."
"You will check your gutter language at the door," said the Headmistress with a frown.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "But we both know it is true."
"I'm not suggesting otherwise, but some things are better left unsaid."
"What do you think he could have wanted, Professor?" asked Harry.
"Hogwarts has many lures for someone like him," said McGonagall standing and moving to the window. "The possibilities are vast. Secrets, powers, people - there is an extensive list."
Harry couldn't help sensing that Professor McGonagall wasn't nearly as troubled by this as he thought she ought to be. Her manner was almost disinterested.
"What are we going to do about this, Professor?" asked Harry. "Something needs to be done."
"We aren't going to do anything," said McGonagall. "The security of Hogwarts and the safety of its students is my responsibility. Don't concern yourself with any of that, Potter. I've seen enough of your bright ideas over the years to guess pretty confidently that you fancy yourself as Chief Protector of the school, but you will leave this to me. Unless I am mistaken you have a lesson plan that needs completing soon. Focus on that, not on other things."
There was a finality in her tone that told Harry the discussion was over. He knew her well enough to know it was pointless to debate the point so made his courtesies and left. Walking along the corridors crowded with students on their way to lessons Harry couldn't help but wonder how much danger they were all in, and how little he believed Headmistress McGonagall was going to do about it. Again, it seemed, the responsibility to act would fall to him, as he told Hermione when he met her in the Gryffindor common room. To his immense surprise, she agreed with him.
"I'm not really that surprised," she said. "I didn't think she would do much."
"Why not?" asked Harry incredulously. "Snape is threatening the school! I think that's a pretty important thing to act on."
"Well you know what the teachers are like," said Hermione. "They all think the castle is impenetrable. All the charms and spells, they don't think anyone can reach them here. Voldemort hasn't so they don't think anyone else can. They just all turn a blind eye until something actually happens."
"Like the night Dumbledore was murdered," said Harry angrily.
"Exactly. They weren't prepared at all, and to be honest they aren't now. That's why I preferred to stay away from here. It's too vulnerable."
"Then we have to do something about it," said Harry.
"Like what?" asked Hermione. "We've already been over this. You can't do it yourself."
"I know. I've been thinking about that," said Harry. "I think I might ask for a favour."
"Who owes you a favour?" asked Hermione, slightly suspiciously.
"Nobody," said Harry. "But I might be able to get one."
"From who?"
"Remember those people we met in Egypt? The Apex Faction, or whatever they called themselves. That guy, Ryan, gave me a card, told me to get in touch if I needed anything. I think this situation fits, don't you?"
"I don't know, Harry," said Hermione. "I'm not sure I liked those kids, there was something dodgy about the whole thing."
"I thought they were okay," said Harry. "Besides, guarding stuff is their speciality. They might be of some use."
Hermione continued to voice her concerns about Harry's plan but despite her protests he was determined to carry on with it. Early the next morning Harry made his way out of the castle and up towards Hogsmeade. He passed Hagrid tending the pumpkin patch but everywhere else was deathly quiet. The village was largely deserted and most of the shops and businesses here had been abandoned. Indeed, the post office itself was only open half a day and insisted on rigorous security checks before allowing admittance.
After successfully proving that he was who he claimed to be, Harry made his way to the counter. He spoke to a kindly middle aged witch, explaining about the special box and showing the card he had been given. The witch looked puzzled and it was only when Harry was passed onto the postmaster did he get anywhere. He was shown into a back room which had a potent musty smell and looked as though it had barely been used in years. The postmaster entered behind him and shut the door before turning to speak.
"May I see the card?" he asked. Harry handed it over. "That seems to be in order. I have never used this box, and I've been here thirty years. I don't suppose you're likely to tell me what it's for?"
"Afraid not," said Harry.
"Ah well, just my curiosity," said the postmaster. He drew his wand and rapped it smartly three times on the shelf of a rickety bookcase propped against the left-hand wall of the room. It wobbled and vibrated, gave off a dull buzz and shook some more. Harry was half-convinced that the rotting wood was about to collapse when the whole thing suddenly righted itself and swung forward as if on hinges.
Harry found himself looking into a large, dark chamber whose walls and ceiling were hidden beneath a soft mist. He followed the postmaster inside, into a cool and slightly eerie environment where the air seemed surgically sterile. The floor was covered in sleek black tiles giving the impression of a carpet of glass beneath their feet. Harry walked along a row of high steel drawers that gave the distinct impression of safety deposit boxes. They stopped a short way along and the postmaster turned, light the oil in a lamp standing on a small desk and turned to Harry.
"Using this box is quite simple" he began. "There is a code on your card. Punch it into the panel on the box and it will open. Pop your letter or note inside and close the door. Then simply press the `send' button and it is done. Do not forget to press the `lock' button when you are all done. I shall leave you to your business. Quills and parchment can be found under the desk."
He turned on his heel and walked away. Harry sat down and looked at the box. It was unremarkable and looked like little more than an outline on the steel wall. If it wasn't for the control panel on the front Harry wouldn't have known it was a box at all. The panel itself looked like a very Muggle-like keypad with ten keys for the numbers, one each for `open,' `send,' and `lock'. It all seemed very strange.
Harry groped beneath the desk and found a small drawer which, as he had been told, contained quills, parchment and several jars of ink. Taking what he needed Harry scribbled a quick note asking whoever received it if they could help him with his problem. After checking that it sounded polite enough he added that he could be contacted at Hogwarts and that a quick reply would be appreciated. Taking out the card again he noticed the six-digit code and typed it into the keypad. He pressed the open button; there was a loud hissing, much like the opening of a pressurised container, and the door swung open. The letter went inside, Harry closed the door and followed the instructions the postmaster gave to him. The door clicked shut but there was no other sound, leaving Harry to wonder if he had done everything right.
Back out in the post office, Harry thanked the postmaster and made his way back out into the village. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the light of the morning, having spent a good fifteen minutes by the light of a dirty oil lamp. As he meandered back towards Hogwarts Harry noticed how empty it was here, how easy it would be to hide when there was no-one to spot you. It struck him how right Hermione was about the vulnerability of the castle, and how right he was about getting outside help to defend it.
By the time he reached the Entrance Hall the early risers amongst the students were making their way to breakfast. A few seventh year Ravenclaw's, one of which was Terry Boot, waved as they passed him but the rest reminded Harry of a bunch of beaverish Hermione-esque clones with their heads buried inside textbooks. The image gave Harry a pang of guilt; this is what Hermione should be like, would be like, if she'd never met him. She'd be like these people, studying for tests and homework and only vaguely worried about the threat of Voldemort which was a long way from the minds of these students. As it should be, Harry thought to himself.
It was a morose chain of thought that stayed with Harry until the girl herself joined him at the Gryffindor table.
"Bad dream or something?" Hermione asked, pulling a rack of toast towards her.
"What?" said Harry.
"Your face," said Hermione. "You look terrible. Something wrong?"
"Oh, nothing," he lied, looking past her eyes. "It's a horrible world, hardly the time to be jolly."
"That's the spirit," she teased.
"You seem a bit happy," said Harry. "You had some good news or something?"
"Or something," she smiled. "You aren't going to be a daddy just yet."
"Oh, sorry, I completely forgot," said Harry, ashamed. "But it's not going to happen."
"Nope," said Hermione smearing marmalade on her toast.
"You seem happy about that," said Harry. "Didn't like the idea, did you?"
"What has gotten into you this morning? You're like a goblin with a sore head. Of course I like the idea but not now. That's way down the line. We have to have our own lives first. And, in any case, is this the kind of world you want to bring a child into?"
"No…no, you're right," said Harry. "Ignore me, I'm just being a prat. It just seems like there's nothing going right at the moment, its getting to me."
"I wouldn't say that," said Hermione. "You just have to look on the bright side."
"Which is?"
"Well," said Hermione, thinking hard. "You still have your health."
"Is that it?" smirked Harry.
"Pretty much," said Hermione, smirking back. "Oh come on, Harry, cheer up. Okay, it's mostly doom and gloom, but there's always hope. And if it all turns out badly we can join Moaning Myrtle in her bathroom. We can have a cubicle each."
Harry guffawed at Hermione's words. He looked up to see Ron enter the Great Hall and cross to them.
"Morning," he said brightly. "Ooh, pass me some crumpets, Hermione - I'm starving."
"Where've you been?" asked Harry. "You look shattered. I bet you haven't been to bed recently, have you?"
"What makes you say that?" asked Ron with his mouth full.
"The bags under your eyes are a giveaway," said Harry. "And besides, didn't you always say that being up this early is against your religion?"
"This is true," said Ron. "But I'm a busy boy now."
"Why's that?" asked Harry.
"Been going to work with Dad for the last couple of weeks," said Harry. "He's heading up a new task force dealing with Muggle protection. With You-Know-Who attacking as many of them as us the Ministry wants an active unit to deal with it. And because Dad is mad about Muggles he's been put in charge. It's quite exciting; I've been up all night for days following leads with Dad and the wizards working with him, even had a few skirmishes. I even met the Muggle Prime Minister - what a duffer he is."
Harry listened to Ron tell stories of his military like campaigns which always seemed to end with him narrowly avoiding an Avada Kedavra or the Muggle police.
"So how come you're up here?" asked Hermione.
"We've been in the North of England all night," said Ron. "Had a tip there was going to be an attack at a football match up there. You wouldn't believe how many fans were in the stadium. About fifty thousand - for football! The shame of it. I still don't get how you can like a sport with no broomsticks but they seem to love it. Anyway, nothing happened. Dunno whether we had been seen or if it was a dud warning. I just thought I'd come by and see Luna as I was in the area."
"Thanks," joked Harry.
"No, I didn't mean-"
"Sarcasm, Ron," said Harry quickly. "For future reference, that's what it sounds like."
"I'll try to remember!" said Ron sardonically. "Have you seen her anyway?"
"Who, Luna? Nah, sorry mate. Cant say I've been looking, though."
"Aww, how romantic," teased Ron. "Only got eyes for Hermione, eh?"
"I should hope so," said Hermione, whose head was half-hidden behind the Daily Prophet.
"Anyone died?" asked Ron with alarming casualness.
"Only your tact," said Hermione sniffily.
Ginny walked by and smiled at her brother, before it turned to a frown when she clocked Harry.
"Still not talking then?" asked Ron, nodding at Ginny.
"I think we've said all we have to say to each other," said Harry with an air of finality.
"So, anything exciting happened up here?" asked Ron. Harry told him about seeing Snape. Ron gasped and swore then swore some more. He swore again when Harry told him of Headmistress McGonagall's apparent disinterest. "Is she mad? Doing nothing! Why don't they just open the gates and let the slimy git walk in!"
"Well we've taken matters into our own hands," said Harry. Hermione coughed pointedly behind her paper. "Alright, I mean I've taken the matter into my hands. Happy?"
"Yes, thanks," said Hermione.
"Why, what have you done?" asked Ron.
"I've sent a letter to Ryan, remember that guy we met in Egypt? I thought maybe he could help."
"Good idea," said Ron enthusiastically. "That'd be useful."
"See, Hermione," said Harry. "Ron thinks it's a good idea."
"Yes," Hermione replied with a sigh. "But Ron also thinks waterproof teabags are a good idea and that anyone whose nose is off centre should be sent to Azkaban for crimes against wizard-kind. Hardly a certificate of approval, is it?"
* * *
It took nearly two days for Harry to receive an answer. It was at breakfast on Thursday when a large, exotic bird (which even Hermione couldn't name) swooped in and dropped a note into Harry's lap before zooming out again. Harry ripped it open with indecent abandon and read the note, which was written in a very fine hand.
Harry,
Nice to hear from you. I'm sorry to hear about your troubles and I think you are right to be worried about them. Your sworn enemy sneaking around at night is definitely cause for concern. Funnily enough I'm having a few troubles of my own. I've been called back home to solve some domestic dispute or another; it's lucky I got your letter at all. Unfortunately, by the time you receive this I will be back home and unable to come and help, though I would have in different circumstances. I have, however, convinced Enola to come along and give you a hand. She's very resourceful and will be of use to you. I hope this little something can aid you. I will try and fix the problems at home and then come and join her a.s.a.p. She should be arriving the same day as this letter.
Good luck,
Ryan Powell.
p.s. Take good care of my girl!
Harry read the letter again and handed it to Hermione. She frowned as she read it and turned to Harry to castigate its writer as soon as she'd finished.
"I knew I was right not to like him," she said acidly. "Persuading that poor girl to come here and put herself in danger. Who does he think he is? And how mad is she for going along with it?"
"They're trying to help us," said Harry. "Which is more than can be said for the people we've asked so far. And besides, if I asked you to do something for me wouldn't you do it?"
"Not something like this, no," said Hermione. "If it was to help you in some way then yes, I probably would. But to help someone you barely know? Absolutely not. I'm your girlfriend, not your servant."
Harry couldn't help thinking she had a point. There was something very subordinate in the idea of Ryan simply ordering his girlfriend to do his bidding. Still, it was some help and Harry couldn't feel too guilty about it, especially if she was as good as Ryan had suggested.
"Someone's going to have to tell McGonagall," said Hermione briskly. "If this girl is arriving today she's going to need somewhere to sleep, food to eat, that sort of thing. I can't see McGonagall liking it."
"We'll go after breakfast," said Harry. "This Enola might turn up at any time and I think it should all be sorted by then."
"Excuse me but we'll not do anything of the sort," said Hermione haughtily. "This is your plan, your mess. You sort it out."
"Fine," said Harry abruptly. He got up. "Thanks for your support."
Then he stormed off leaving Hermione totally nonplussed.
* * *
Being in a bad mood was, perhaps, not the best way to present Professor McGonagall with the news of the impending new arrival. However, Harry thought to himself on the way to her office, if she proved stubborn he would at least be able to meet her disproval with ferocious arguments of his own. There was, unfortunately, a niggling voice at the back of his mind telling him that this wasn't going to be easy; it was the voice which tended to speak to him through any bad mood when Hermione's words were right. On this occasion, though, the sound of her voice served only to infuriate him further still.
Professor McGonagall was marking papers when Harry entered her office. She surveyed him over the rim of her glasses, piercing him with her stern stare and reading his intentions as she so often did. She put her quill to one side, sat firmly back in her chair and folded her arms, then beckoned Harry to start. The futility of the plan soon became apparent; his words bounced off the stern exterior and caused the creases of a frown to form at the corner of Professor McGonagall's mouth. She was not pleased.
"How dare you," she said when Harry and finished. "How dare you invite some strange person to my school with so much as consulting me first?"
"I knew you wouldn't go for it," said Harry.
"Too right I wouldn't!" cried McGonagall. "And I wont now. As soon as this girl gets here you can march her straight back out."
"But Professor -"
"But Professor, nothing!" said McGonagall. "All the promise and potential in the world doesn't allow such gross arrogance. She could be anybody, do anything. Do you realise the dangers of this?"
"She isn't dangerous," Harry protested. "I've met her before. She's coming here to help. I told you -"
"You've told me some vague tale that I have half a mind to disregard," said McGonagall. "I've no reason to believe that the brother of Sirius Black is alive and well and I've never even heard of this secret group."
"I have," said a soft voice from the wall. Professor McGonagall's shouting had woken the portraits on the wall, all of whom were eagerly eavesdropping on the conversation. All except the one of Dumbledore, who was addressing McGonagall directly.
"Albus," said McGonagall, her tone changing immediately. "Do you mean Harry is telling some truth?"
"That I cannot know, my dear Minerva," said Dumbledore. "What I do know is that this group exists, under many names and guises, and that, yes, Regulus Black was known to be under their protection."
"Even so," said McGonagall. "I cannot allow this to take place. Some foreign girl to enter Hogwarts. It's improper."
"Perhaps," said Dumbledore. "But you really do have little to lose from it all. Any extra help, I would have thought, would be more than welcome. And if Harry vouches for her, that really should be enough."
Harry smiled at Dumbledore's portrait and swore he got a tiny wink back. It happened so quickly, though, that it might have been a trick of the light.
"What do you intend to do with her?" demanded McGonagall, wheeling round to Harry. "Where will she sleep? What will she do?"
"There's space in the girls' dormitory," said Harry. "She could stay there. As for what she's going to do, I don't know. I'll work that out when she gets here."
"If I permit this," said McGonagall. "Which I am extremely uncomfortable even with the thought of, then it is your responsibility. I want no part of it. If anything happens to this girl then it will be on your head. Is that clear?"
"Absolutely," said Harry. "It'll work, I know it will."
"It had better," said McGonagall. "Because if she turns out to be a spy for the Dark side and Hogwarts is compromised I will hold you personally responsible. The safety of this school and its students is now as much in your hands as it is mine. Remember that."
Harry thanked Professor McGonagall and hurried from the room. Outside he could hear a quiet argument going on between the Headmistress and the portraits in the room. Harry walked quickly away before McGonagall's stubbornness caused a change of heart.
It was early afternoon when the new arrival turned up at Hogwarts. Harry, who had been hiding out with Hagrid to avoid meeting Hermione around the school, looked up from making a fourth cup of tea to see a girl waiting at the school gates out of Hagrid's window. He put down the teapot and beckoned Hagrid to come with him to open the gates, which were permanently locked. They made their way up the gravel path and let Enola enter the grounds.
"Hello," said Harry. "I'm really glad you were able to come."
"Oh, it's nothing," said Enola. "I hope I'm able to help you."
"This is Hagrid," said Harry doing the introductions. "Hagrid, meet Enola. I am pronouncing that right, aren't I?'
Enola nodded as Hagrid shook her whole arm with his hand. In the daylight Harry noticed how very pretty this girl was. The darkness of the Egyptian tombs had hardly done her credit. Shiny black hair fell in waves just past her shoulders framing her face and her eyes were a cool green with an arresting gaze. Harry had to blink to stop himself feeling captivated.
But she looked different in other ways. For a start she came across as far less confident than Harry remembered her being in Egypt. In fact, with the way she was looking around uncertainly and fidgeting with her feet, Harry would have said she looked positively timid. His confidence in his plan waned a little.
"Are you alright?" asked Harry.
"Oh, yes," said Enola. "Just getting my bearings, that's all."
"Why don' you come and have a brew with us," suggested Hagrid. "Harry was jus' about to put on another pot."
"Yes, thanks, that'd be nice," said Enola, genuinely beaming.
Hagrid led them back to his hut and set Harry to task getting tea ready whilst trying to reassure Enola that Fang was harmless when the giant boarhound pounced on the girl and started to lick her ear. Harry thought she might be appalled by the slobbering dog; she seemed so pristine and well presented that Harry thought she may have taken badly to her image being tarnished. He was quite relieved to find her quite the reverse and in no time at all she was scratching Fang behind the ears as he drooled over her skirt.
"So," said Hagrid, pouring the tea. "How was yer trip? Sugar?"
"Two, please," said Enola. "My trip was fine, nothing exciting, but then its over so quickly there's hardly time for sight seeing, don't you think?"
"Did you Apparate here then?" asked Harry.
"Apparate? What's that?"
"Oh, you know, disappearing in one place and turning up somewhere else," said Harry.
"That sounds a bit random," said Enola.
"Oh no," said Harry, correcting himself. "You know where you're going to end up. You just sort of think it and then, if you do it right, there you are. It's called Apparition."
"That's some kind of ghost, isn't it?" asked Enola. "It sounds a bit like what we do, but we call it self-teleportation. You use your wand to send you wherever you like. As long as you do the spell right whilst thinking of the place you're going it always works. It has to be idiot-proof `cause there are some right plonkers where I come from."
"How come you have two wands?" asked Harry. "I've been dying to ask."
"Oh these," said Enola, beaming as she withdrew two slim, ice-white wands from holsters in her belt. "I've had them since I was little. I think they're made from beech or pine but I painted them myself. I used to have little gold stars on them too but I got rid of them when I became a teenager."
She looked remorseful at this tale. Harry pressed again. "But why two?"
"Trust me, Harry, where I come from, and the things I've been part of, you need your wits about you. Sometimes you have to be able to do a few things at once."
"So, you can cast two spells at a time?" asked Harry, sounding impressed.
"Yes," said Enola modestly. "It took me ages to learn how, and it wasn't until Ryan showed me the best way to do it that I was able to. Funny really, I taught him the basics of magic and when he got better than me he taught me more complex things."
"What? You mean he isn't from a wizard family?"
"I don't think our world works like yours," Enola began. "Ryan's parents were both magic; in fact, they were leaders on opposite sides during a civil war years ago. But he was actually raised in this country. In Wales, do you know it?"
"I know Wales quite well, meself," said Hagrid. "Got a good friend down there, Rhiannon of Rhydyfelin s'her name. Clever card player, bled me dry one time…"
"I went there for a holiday with my aunt and uncle one year," said Harry. "It looked very pretty, but I was kept locked in the car for most of the trip. My parents lived there for a while; they're buried in the garden of their old house."
"Oh… I'm sorry," said Enola, looking aghast. "I had no idea. I'm sorry to have brought it up."
"Its fine, its fine," said Harry quickly as Enola looked on the verge of tears. "How were you to know? Besides, I'm okay with it. It happened a long time ago and I don't even remember it. Don't worry about it."
"I'm really sorry anyway," said Enola. "This was what I was afraid of. Saying the wrong things in front of people. I could say anything and upset someone. I promised myself I'd stay quiet, which is hard for me as I hardly ever shut up normally."
"Then don't change on account of us," said Harry, grinning. "It'd be nice to have someone around here to lighten the mood."
"True, true," agreed Hagrid. "It's been a bit bleak lately, ain't no lie in that."
Enola grinned meekly, still unconvinced. But she relaxed more as tea went on, listening to Harry and Hagrid tell tales and give her a quick overview of the state of things. Harry thought she made an excellent audience, gasping and praising in all the right places. By the time they were all done Enola was fully convinced that she was needed.
"I had no idea things were this bad," she said. "Working for the Faction we're kind of cocooned. We only had a vague idea of what was happening in the outside world. I'd say you can use all the help you can get."
"Well, Ryan highly recommended you in his letter," said Harry. "Said you would be really useful to us."
"He did?" said Enola, glowing and blushing all at once. "He's so sweet. But I think he's right. I can go places where you might not be able to, you, know, because no-one knows me, I won't attract attention."
"I'm not sure that's right," said Harry. "Voldemort and his mates kill anyone - Muggle, Magic, beast - if you get in his way he'll kill you all the same"
"Something to look forward to then," joked Enola.
By this time it was starting to grow dusky outside. Harry was just about to get up and take Enola to the castle when there was a knock on Hagrid's door.
"Ah, hello, Hermione," said Hagrid as he opened the door. "Come on in."
"I thought you might be hiding out in here," said Hermione to Harry as soon as she entered the cabin.
"I am not hiding out," Harry protested.
"Well, you were a little bit, Harry," said Hagrid smirking through his beard. Harry gave him a stinging look by way of thanks.
"Hello," said Hermione, turning to Enola. "We never really met properly. I'm Hermione."
"Nice to meet you," said Enola, who seemed wary of Hermione's brisk manner.
"Have you had anything to eat?" Hermione asked.
"Not since I left this morning," replied Enola.
"You poor thing," said Hermione gently. She turned to Harry and her tone hardened again. "Not very good at hosting guests, are you?"
"We've had some tea," said Harry meekly. "And I was just about to bring Enola up to the school."
"At least you're thinking in the right way," said Hermione shaking her head. "Make yourself useful and take Enola's bags for her."
"Oh no, I can carry them," said Enola lifting the bags herself. "See?"
"No its fine, I'll take them," said Harry. "You are a guest after all."
Harry took the bags from Enola, which turned out to be rather heavy.
"What's in these?" Harry asked. "They weigh a ton."
"Equipment, provisions, clothes," said Enola. "A little bit of everything."
"I think I might summon Dobby here," said Harry. "Make him do it."
"You will do no such thing," said Hermione sternly. "They are enslaved enough here without doing your bidding as well. Just stop moaning and do as you're told."
Enola seemed to stifle a giggle as Harry obeyed his orders. He walked solemnly behind the two girls as they talked about things; Harry, Enola's trip, the security of Hogwarts, Harry, dinner, the weather and Harry were just a few of the topics they covered. Once they reached the Entrance Hall Hermione took out her wand and guided Enola's heavy bags up the stairs.
"You did that on purpose," Harry fumed. "You knew I forgot that spell and you let me slave all the way up from Hagrid's."
"I thought you needed to be taught a lesson," said Hermione. "Stop jumping down my throat every time I disagree with you. I'm not one of your fan girls', Harry. If you want worship and obedience you'd have been better off staying with Ginny."
Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "I do not want worship. I never asked for that. You know that."
"Of course I know it," said Hermione. "But the way your head's been getting lately I've been starting to wonder if you aren't believing your own hype."
"How can you say that to me?"
"I can say that because I'm supposed to be your girlfriend and we're not supposed to have any barriers between us and we're supposed to listen to each other."
"What's with all the `supposed to' stuff?" said Harry.
"Well I haven't exactly been feeling the love lately, Harry," said Hermione.
"Sorry but I've been a bit distracted," said Harry bluntly. "What with Snape turning up, McGonagall turning the other cheek and you telling me you might be pregnant I've been a little pressed for time."
"If we can't make time for each other then what the hell are we even fighting this war for?" said Hermione. Not for the first time, Harry realised she was right.
"You're right, of course," said Harry. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Its just that'd I'd like you to support me when I need you; stop me if I'm definitely doing wrong, or show me the bad side of things, but support me all the same. This is a partnership, you know."
"Eihwaz," said Hermione.
"Bless you," said Harry.
"No, silly, eihwaz is an ancient rune. Means partnership. I got it confused in my OWL, remember?"
"Er - no," said Harry. "I always thought ancient runes were derelict old cities where people went to dig for treasure."
"Why does that not surprise me," said Hermione, smirking and shaking her head again. "Come on, let's get this into the dorms and get back down to Enola. She'll wonder where we've got to."
With a little bit more magic from Hermione the bags were stowed away quickly and she and Harry rejoined Enola in the Entrance Hall. They found her talking to the portrait of Dionysus the Dishonest on the third step of the staircase.
"I wouldn't listen to a word she says," said Hermione ushering Enola away. "Just full of lies that one."
They entered the Great Hall where dinner was already underway. They took seats at the Gryffindor table facing away from the other students as to not attract attention. They filled their plates and began eating as the talk turned to Enola.
"So," Hermione began. "Where exactly is it that you come from?"
"It's a hidden place," said Enola. "I suppose this school has all kinds of enchantments on it to keep it secure? Well, my home is sort of the same. It's a continent, way out to sea. Boats, planes, they just don't see it at all."
"And people live there? Like, normal people? How did they get there if they can't see it?" asked Harry.
"It was colonised thousands of years ago," Enola explained. "There were people living there, we call them the Indies, but other people went there too. They were the ones that hid it."
"Who were they?" Hermione asked.
"I'm descended from a great race of people, the Atlanteans. My ancestors' home was destroyed by a bunch of natural disasters. Most of the ones who survived settled on the new island continent where I come from. But there were also refugees and settlers from Sparta when that was destroyed, Troy when that went, loads of places. But the first ones there were Celts, hence its name - Celticania. They founded the cities and most of the language, religions, culture has something to do with them."
"But Ryan, you said, didn't come from there?" said Hermione.
"No," said Enola. "He was born in Wales but his mother is Celticanian. I think she was Atlantean by descent, not too sure. His father was Spartan, though, and those two really don't mix. All our wars have been between those two sides."
"So what's Ryan doing now? He said something about domestic problems," said Harry.
"You have to understand that Ryan is like a leader there," said Enola. "He's descended from kings but that wasn't the way to go for him. He had to get use of the White Power, sort of the opposite of Black magic only harder to learn and much more powerful. The only way to do it was to become High Priest of the White Temple, a huge pyramid in our Capital city. He did that, ended the war and put Dylan in charge as a kind of Viceroy, but he rules really. He co-regents with a priestess called Hannah."
At this point her expression saddened and Harry couldn't help feel that she didn't like this other girl. Hermione seemed to be on the same wavelength.
"Doesn't sound like you think much of that?" she said.
"Oh, it doesn't? Well, I know Hannah well, fighting alongside someone in a war does that, but they are a bit close. If I didn't know Ryan so well…"
She drifted off and looked sadder than ever.
"I'm sorry," said Harry suddenly. "This is my fault. I should never have asked Ryan for help; I didn't know you had so much going on. If I hadn't contacted him you would never have had to come here."
"Oh don't worry about that," said Enola brightly. "It's just that, well…I miss him, you know?"
Harry looked at Hermione and she looked right back. They both smiled. Neither of them needed to answer the question.
"Cant you contact him? Send a message?" asked Hermione.
"No, unfortunately," said Enola. "See, the continent is slightly off dimension and you need a powerful force to break through the quantum membrane. We have a ship, the HMS Harmony, that was designed specifically for that. But it's the only way in or out. But don't worry about me, I'll be fine. And in any case, Ryan will fix whatever problems are back home and be here in no time."
And it was a good thing too, thought Harry, for a commotion had just erupted on the other side of the hall. Harry looked up and saw a vision of horror; there, collapsing in front of the High Table was Malfoy, a jagged cut right down his face, his blonde hair coated with blood.
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