DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Haggridd for his most excellent Beta skills and steadfast moral support.
"HARRY POTTER AND THE PICTURE OF INNOCENCE"
(Chapter One)
"My Buddy"
Nights alone since you went away,
I think about you all through the day
my buddy...[1]
"Wake up!" Hermione hissed into Ron Weasley's ear as she jabbed her elbow into his ribs. With a Herculean effort, Ron managed to prise his drooping eyelids apart and look blearily into her disapproving stare. On his other side, Harry Potter, his best friend, quietly chimed in too.
"If Snape ever caught you nodding off in his class…" Harry warned.
All three of them jumped as a loud BANG exploded across the classroom. From the cauldron at the front of the room rose a cloud of thick violet smoke, slowly forming itself into various shapes: spheres, cubes, cones, pyramids and dodecahedrons, which floated lazily around the dungeon where Snape taught Potions like soap bubbles on a calm day. Out of curiosity, Jane Winterbolt reached up to touch a sphere as it drifted above her head. When her finger broke the surface tension, the smoke lost its cohesion and dissipated into nothingness. The entire class let out an appreciative "Ahhhh"!
Far from being annoyed, the Potions Master was in what, for him, was the equivalent of a good mood. He had only snarled at Harry a couple of times during class and had taken almost no interest whatever in browbeating Neville Longbottom-even when Neville had spilled nearly the entire contents of his cauldron down the front of Deirdre Chapman's robes. (Luckily Hermione had managed to stop Deirdre's dress from becoming totally invisible long enough for her to borrow another witch's robes and excuse herself to the ladies' lavatory.) If they hadn't known better, the odd smile on Snape's usually dour face could easily have been mistaken for happiness. For some reason, the idea of Snape being happy seemed more disturbing than him being unhappy.
But that's as may be… For the moment at least, they could talk.
"What's the matter with you, Ron?" Harry whispered. "You've been sleepwalking like this for almost a week now!" Ron's flaming red hair was even more disheveled than Harry's normally was. His clothes were rumpled as though he'd slept in them, and the crimson peach fuzz that he had taken such pride in shaving from his upper lip only a few weeks before had returned with a vengeance.
"I've been studying, Okay?" Ron snapped at him.
"Alice tried to believe six impossible things before breakfast" Hermione replied, "but I don't think even she would buy that story!"
"Just mind your own business!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth. Neither Harry nor Hermione could ever remember a time when their friend had spoken to them with quite so much venom. For the moment at least, the subject was dropped.
Ron was halfway out the door before Snape could even finish saying, "Class dismissed". Worried as they were, Harry and Hermione decided not to chase after him. Best to let him cool down a little, first.
"Neville said he heard Ron sneaking into the dorm at four o'clock this morning." Harry told her as they headed towards Professor Flitwick's classroom. "Merlin only knows where he'd been all night-and Neville is sure it wasn't the first time he'd done it. I convinced him to keep his mouth shut, but I have a feeling that's just the tip of the iceberg. McGonagall cornered me the other day and asked if Ron was having any personal problems. I got the distinct impression that his grades are slipping."
"This is weird," Hermione shook her head. "Do you suppose it has anything to do with Greta Van Deussen?" Ron and the comely transfer student from Sweden had become something of an item in the past few weeks, but then the romance seemed to cool as quickly as it had begun. "From what I hear they had an awful row in the Three Broomsticks. The strange thing is, the next day Ron was walking around cheerful as you please. It was as if the whole thing had never happened."
"That is unusual for Ron," Harry concurred. "Usually he's in a funk for at least a week before he goes after another girl."
"You're worried about him, aren't you?" Hermione took hold of Harry's hand and gave it a supportive squeeze. This simple act had become so natural that usually neither one of them gave it a second thought-but this time Harry couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious. In the wake of last year's Yule Ball, the entire school had buzzed about Ron and his possible feelings for Hermione-particularly in view of his heated reaction to her attending the ball with Bulgarian Quidditch whiz Viktor Krum-but Ron always dismissed the idea as loudly and as vulgarly as possible. Perhaps out of respect for the trio's friendship, if he had any romantic feelings, he kept them to himself.
As for Harry-it wasn't as though he had particularly set out to win Hermione's heart or vice versa, and it certainly didn't happen overnight. It just seemed that gradually, the two of them found themselves spending more and more time together. In spending time together, they found that they wanted to spend more time together-without Ron. Before either of them was aware of it, their close friendship had evolved into something neither of them had expected.
Hermione tried to apply her logical, analytical mind to the situation. Perhaps it was because she and Harry had known so much loneliness in their lives. Even as a young boy, before he had discovered the isolation that comes with being a reluctant celebrity, the Dursleys had done everything they could to cut Harry off from the outside world-literally locking him away in a cupboard. As for Hermione, even though she had come from a loving family, it didn't change the fact that she was still the smart kid whom all the other children resented and envied at the same time. Perhaps she and Harry had been drawn together out of mutual need as much as mutual passion.
Then again, maybe it was just the way that Harry made her feel all warm and squishy inside.
Once again, Ron pretended to have no feelings in the matter and proceeded to dive headlong into a series of heated, if generally short-lived romances with Hogwarts' most eligible witches-but then came what he privately regarded as "the last straw".
"Longbottom's Ice Age", as the student body would later christen it, was a disastrous attempt at an extra-credit assignment for Snape's Potions class. What was supposed to have been a simple snowfall confined to the Quidditch pitch, had mutated into an arctic blizzard that had threatened to turn the entire school into a glacier. Foreseeing trouble, Professor Snape had issued magical emergency shelters to his classes, just in case. Fortunately, when the storm actually hit there had been enough students outside who had both shelters and the presence of mind to use them so no lives were lost. Although most shelters had ended up holding an average of four to ten persons, (and one had nearly forty students crammed into it), by an amazing stroke of luck, Harry and Hermione had managed to get a shelter all to themselves.[2]
Unlike the dreadful days of Rita Skeeter's muckraking, nothing whatever had been spoken aloud. There had been no great wave of gossip and whispered speculation-just a tacit consensus among the student body that Harry and Hermione had not spent their time alone together playing competition Scrabble®.[3] (Much to the disappointment of a small cadre of gay students who were firmly convinced that Harry was a "friend of Dorothy".) For her part, Hermione had found herself once again the object of a mixture of resentment and grudging respect from the other girls who wondered just how she'd managed to snag "The Boy Who Lived."
Officially, of course, any sort of "funny business" between Hogwarts students was strictly frowned upon, but given the unusually heavy burden that Harry Potter was being asked to bear for the entire Magical World, it was generally agreed that he and Miss Granger were something of a special case. They would not be punished for the "incident", but any further such activities were vigorously discouraged-particularly on school grounds.
In the aftermath of the "incident", Ron seemed to grow even more distant. Hermione did her best to reassure Harry that Ron was still their friend, but in truth, they both feared for the future of the trio.
Relationships aside, except for a few isolated incidents (Neville's blizzard, the incubus in the girls' showers, the outbreak of man-eating head lice among the first-years), their fifth year at Hogwarts had been relatively quiet.
Too quiet, Harry thought to himself.
Given his previous experiences, he couldn't help feeling that they were long overdue for disaster.
*****
Ron looked around to be sure he was alone in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory. Pulling Harry's Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map from his book bag, he quickly placed them in his friend's trunk and waved his wand at the lock.
"Sit vis vobiscum"
Hearing his older brothers approach, he ducked into the bathroom. Ron hid in one of the stalls for what seemed like an eternity. Fred and George had come up with some new practical joke, but they were so busy laughing at their own cleverness that Ron never could catch exactly what it was. Just about the time Ron thought his bum was going to go to sleep from sitting on the toilet, he finally heard them leave.
Back in the dormitory, Ron felt under his bed for the things he'd stashed there earlier: a bottle of dandelion wine, two glasses, a bag containing an assortment of Honeyduke's best chocolates and a book of gushy love poetry he'd borrowed from Sam Kettletrout from Incantations class. He then gathered up the ancient volumes of magical lore he had secretly "borrowed" from the restricted section of the library and stuffed them into his bag. Now he was ready.
"Watch the pigment!" the Fat Lady harrumphed as she watched the Weasley boy disappear into the shadows. He'd nearly frightened her out of an entire layer of Cadmium Yellow paint when he'd burst through the portrait hole. "Kids today!"
*****
"Ron?" the girl's voice called out hopefully. "Is that you, my darling?"
"Sorry I'm late!" Ron was nearly out of breath from running. "Old Snape does go on about his potions!" Closing the dilapidated classroom door behind him, he made a final check of the hallway. He'd taken a few extra turns and gone a little out of his way just to make sure he hadn't been followed. The rotting curtains were in a pile right where he'd left them the previous evening. He quickly stuffed them into the crack under the door. Satisfied that no light would leak out into the corridor, he waved his wand and the cobweb-covered candelabras around the room blazed to life. "That's better."
"It's so lonely when you aren't here, my darling."
"I missed you too." Ron set out the dandelion wine and the Honeydukes chocolates on a dusty study table, then picked up the book of poetry. "I brought something for you!"
"Did you find the spell?" the girl asked eagerly, ignoring Ron's presents.
"Not yet. But I think I'm on the right track." Swallowing his disappointment, Ron tossed the poetry book back onto the table then set the wine and the chocolates aside. "I really wish I had Hermione to help me." He emptied out the remaining contents of his book bag and began rummaging through the antique manuscripts, doing his best not to damage the delicate medieval parchment scrolls. "She's a wiz at finding stuff like this."
"Absolutely not! " the girl scolded him. "We can't get your friends involved in any of this. It would be far too dangerous." Her eyes were beginning to tear up. "It's bad enough that I involved you. Oh, Ron! If anything were to happen to you because of me-"
"Now don't you worry your pretty little head about me!" Ron grinned. "I can take care of myself!"
"Oh Ron! You're sooooo brave!"
Ron hoped he wasn't blushing.
******
As has been previously mentioned, the past week or so had seen a marked change in Professor Snape's attitude. While far from dancing through the corridors singing, Oh, What A Beautiful Morning, Snape did seem to be in a much more agreeable humor than usual-at least until the thefts began.
Ron, Harry and Hermione were studying in the library when they heard raised voices coming from the Librarian's office. (Actually, Harry and Hermione had heard them; Ron, as had been his habit of late, had fallen asleep camouflaged behind Hermione's volume of Hogwarts: A History.) It was the first time anyone could remember hearing voices raised in the library. Though they couldn't make out all of what was being said, Professor Snape was evidently reading the Wizarding World equivalent of the Riot Act to Madam Pince, the Librarian. They were able to discern, "I have never seen such incompetence!" then something that sounded like, "In the wrong hands those spells could be lethal!" By the time Snape had stalked out of her office, Madam Pince was nearly in tears.
Harry and Hermione did their best to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible, but to no avail. Snape marched right up to the table where they were sitting and pointed a bony finger directly at Harry's nose.
"Potter! Come with me!"
*****
"I swear to you, I didn't take those books!" Clearly there was no reasoning with Snape, so Harry was making his case directly to Professor Dumbledore. "I don't know anything about them!"
The old wizard scratched his long white whiskers and turned to Snape.
"Do you have any proof that young Potter is responsible for these thefts?"
"Who else could it be? Who else could go sneaking around the castle in the middle of the night, unseen, but the heir to James Potter's famous Invisibility Cloak? The cloak, I might add, which you-"
"But you have no direct evidence that Harry is responsible?"
"No, Headmaster," came Snape's answer through clenched teeth.
Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief. While he certainly had nothing to do with the thefts, proving it might be a bit of a problem. Harry had managed to keep hold of the Emergency Shelter he'd been given and a couple of times that week, he and Hermione had used it to engage in some "extracurricular activities" that he didn't particularly wish to discuss in front of his teachers. Snape was wound up enough about the "incident" and all the teasing it had earned him, as it was. He certainly didn't want to drag Hermione in as an alibi witness unless there was no other choice.
"May I ask," said Harry, elbowing his way into the conversation, "exactly what was taken?"
"Why is that any concern of yours-?"
Dumbledore cut him of with a raised hand. "Go ahead, Harry."
"I was just thinking, Sir-Sirs-If we could figure out what the thief wanted the books for, it might give us a clue to his identity." Harry could have sworn he saw a twinge of guilt pass over the Potions Master's face. He clearly wanted the books back, but it was as if he didn't wish anyone to know what he needed them for.
"Two books by Golmonger," Snape seemed to be choosing his words with great care, "one by Pyewakit and one by Smith. Golmonger's work is concerned primarily with animating inanimate objects. Piewakit and Smith write chiefly about the transference of energy-particularly life energy."
"And how would one use this particular knowledge?" Harry suspected that the old Headmaster already knew the answer, but didn't mind making Snape jump through a few hoops. Now the Potions Master really looked guilty. Though he knew it was wrong, Harry couldn't help enjoying Snape's discomfort just a little.
"Obviously," he stammered, running his fingers through his greasy hair, "the thief wants to bring an inanimate object to life. I suspect the energy transference books are about making the spell permanent. Most such spells last only a few days. The object invariably reverts to its inanimate state."
"What would someone need to perform the spells?" Harry asked.
"It's a fairly long list," Snape stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Any student could lay his hands on most of it fairly easily. However, there are a few things here that would be almost impossible to obtain legally-and incredibly expensive even if one could."
"What about your stores, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"I have everything I need to complete-" Snape began without thinking. He cleared his throat, pretending to check over the list again, "That is to say, as soon as I discovered the books were missing, I did a complete inventory and everything is accounted for."
"It might be a good idea for someone to keep a watch on your office, Professor," Harry stole a glance at Professor Dumbledore. The old wizard's expression was unreadable.
"What an excellent idea, Mr. Potter!" There was something about the beaming smile that suddenly appeared on Dumbledore's ancient face that made both Harry and Snape nervous.
*****
"You're going to what?" Hermione asked incredulously.
"Not so loud!" Harry shushed. "I'm going help Snape stand guard over his ingredients stores." He dropped onto a bench in the Great Hall next to Hermione and started helping himself to lunch, lowering his voice even further. "We'll hide under the Invisibility Cloak and wait for the thief to show himself."
"Ooooh! A 'stakeout' with Professor Snape!" she giggled. "There's my idea of a fun evening!" Harry was clearly not amused until she took his face in her hands and gently kissed him. "Just think happy thoughts about all the ways you and I can celebrate once you've brought the true criminal to justice!"
"That's just it," Harry sighed. "I'm not sure I want him to be caught."
"You can't really think that Ron's got anything to do with this?"
"Sneaking out of the dorm until all hours! He won't even tell his best friends what he's up to! What am I supposed to think?"
"For all we know," Hermione said calmly, "He's just going up to the Astronomy Tower for a little late-night snogging! You know Ron!"
"Yes, I do know Ron. If it were a girl, do you really think he'd be able keep it to himself for this long? We'd have heard all the gory details by now!"
"Maybe she's a Slytherin and they're ashamed to be seen together?" Hermione said with a naughty grin. "Then again, maybe it's not a girl. I've seen the way he looks at you sometimes…" The glare she got back told Hermione that Harry was not amused. Something caught her eye from over his shoulder. "Speaking of raving 'Nancy-boys'…"
"Well if it isn't the Three Mouseketeers, minus one!" The voice always made Harry's hair stand on end like fingernails across a chalkboard. "So where's your friend the weasel, Potter?" said Draco Malfoy with his usual sneer. His toadies Crabbe & Goyle maintained a respectful distance.
"I'm not his keeper, Malfoy," Harry replied calmly as he turned around, "but I'm sure wherever he is, he's grateful for the fact that he doesn't have to waste his time talking to you."
Draco ran his fingers through the "flip" in his hair, looking around to make sure he was the center of attention. Much to his disappointment, the two or three girls that had been hanging around the Gryffindor table earlier were gone. Hermione fought to suppress a giggle.
"I heard from a reliable source, that poor 'Ronnikins' might not be long for Hogwarts."
"The voices in your head getting louder then, Malfoy?" Hermione said with a smile.
"Maybe your friend Weasley should start pretending to hear voices if he doesn't want to go to jail!" Malfoy's self-satisfied smirk sorely tempted Harry to punch his lights out.
"What are you babbling about?"
"Some very valuable spell books were stolen from the restricted section of the library. And I hear 'widdle Ronnikins' has taken to wandering the halls at night. Walking in his sleep, I suppose?"
A knot formed in the pit of Harry's stomach. If Malfoy had gotten wind of Ron's little excursions, Snape had to know by now.
"Even at Hogwarts they can still add two plus too and get four."
"And you did that without a calculator." Hermione applauded. "Your parents must be so proud!"
"A day of reckoning is coming, Mudblood." Malfoy's voice dropped menacingly. "On that day I'm going to enjoy watching you pay for those insults. And if I'm lucky, I might even be allowed to collect some of the payments myself." He reached out to touch her cheek. With a look of utter disgust, Hermione slapped his hand away. Malfoy drew his arm back to belt her across the mouth.
With a fast-draw that would have made Wyatt Earp proud, Draco was suddenly staring into the "business end" of Harry's wand.
"Oh, there'll be a reckoning all right, Malfoy." The tip moved to Malfoy's forehead, tracing a lightening bolt pattern on the spot where Harry's scar was located. "Maybe we'll find out if your mother loves you as much as my mother loved me." Draco's raised arm slowly lowered to his side. For the first time since they'd met, Harry fancied that he'd actually seen fear in Draco Malfoy's eyes. It had been Lily Potter's total, unconditional love for her son that had saved Harry's life when Lord Voldemort had tried to murder him as a baby. If her love had been a shield of iron, Harry reckoned that all the love and affection Draco Malfoy had received from his family in his entire lifetime wouldn't add up to a single sheet of tissue paper. Malfoy, reckoning that discretion is the better part of cowardice, withdrew.
"Someday, Potter…" Malfoy hissed through gritted teeth. "Someday."
"I'm looking forward to it."
Draco turned on his heel and left with a dramatic swish of his robes. A dirty look from Hermione banished Crabbe & Goyle.
"Have a nice day, boys!" she called after them. Harry's hand was trembling as Hermione brought it up to her lips and gently kissed it. "You missed your calling, Potter. You should've been a poker player."
"Oh, I don't know." Harry pulled her close, "You've heard the old saying, 'Unlucky at cards, lucky in love.'" He drew her into a kiss. "Would you like to use the Emergency Shelter again tonight?" he whispered.
"I'd love to, but you already have a date tonight," she reminded him, "with Professor Snape."
*****
For the third time in a row, Harry and Professor Snape met in the Potions classroom just before sunset and made
preparations for their nightly vigil. They had constructed a sort of "duck blind" by draping Harry's
Invisibility Cloak over a couple of chairs, creating a tent-like affair at the back of the room, then settled in to
wait for the thief to strike. Harry had brought a pillow from his bed, a small supply of snacks and Quidditch
Through The Ages, which he read by the light of his wand. Snape sat, cross-legged, arms folded, spine rigid,
looking like a cross between an Eastern holy man and a cigar-store Indian. Most of the time he kept his eyes closed and
his mouth shut, only opening it to grunt a refusal to Harry's occasional offers of food.
It was a little after eleven when Harry finally finished his book. His neck and his legs were starting to cramp.
"It's been three days, Professor. I'm beginning to think he's not coming. Maybe he decided to try and get what he needs in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley.
"Hogsmeade, perhaps," Snape said without opening his eyes. "But I'm betting that our thief is a student and wouldn't be able to leave Hogwarts without arousing suspicion"
"What makes you so sure it's a student?"
"Use your head for something other than a resting place for your school hat, Potter! A member of the faculty could have simply checked the books out of the library, no questions asked! I doubt if it was the House-Elves. They wouldn't know how to make use of the spells even if they could get hold of them. Ergo, it was a student."
"So, what do you suppose our thief wants to bring to life?"
"Perhaps he's a sculptor like Pygmalion and wishes to have a long-term relationship with one of his statues!" the professor snorted, "Though, given the current crop of would-be Michelangelos in Mr. Kite's Sculpture class, I doubt it. Hard to imagine anyone falling in love with that Post-Modern rubbish he favors."
"Hard to imagine anyone falling in love with a piece of marble." Harry said.
"No more difficult to imagine than falling for some giggling, preening, boy-crazed little adolescent witch," Snape said cattily, "How is Miss Granger, by the way?"
Probably sorry she's not here to answer that for herself, thought Harry.
"She's fine," he said with a forced smile.
"You two seem to have become quite… close", he remarked with a hint of distaste.
"We've been through a lot together." Harry wasn't quite sure why he said it, but the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. "Have you never been in love, Professor?"
"Not that it's any of your business, Potter," he sniffed haughtily, "but I've had the odd romantic dalliance in my day."
"Odd" being the operative word, you great poof, Harry couldn't help thinking. He mentally slapped himself on the wrist. Bad Harry! Be nice!
"Like your father before you, Harry, you have a certain 'simplicity of personality' to which the opposite sex seems to respond. To put it succinctly, you are 'likeable'. I, on the other hand, am a very complex and multifaceted individual and it sometimes takes much longer to become fully acquainted with the subtleties and nuances of my persona."
"You're not likable." Harry translated.
"I'm a complete and total bastard. The sooner people realize it, the better we'll all get along."
"So, does that mean you really do hate me?"
"Of course." Snape said matter-of-factly. "But you mustn't take it personally. I hate everyone. It's a natural consequence of always being the smartest person in the room. To answer your question, there were two young ladies who actually stand out in my mind. One was a Gryffindor and the other…wasn't. One a fiery redhead and the other had hair of spun gold. They couldn't have been more different in looks, personality and temperament, but I… cared… for both of them."
This was certainly a week for revelations! (The fact that Snape had any interest at all in females rated a headline in The Daily Prophet, for a start!) Harry had never seen this side of Snape before. Although still guarded, he did seem to be letting a little bit of humanity peek through the cracks of his harsh façade. He was telling a story about how he'd tried to ask the redhead out on a date when some boorish dolt from the Quidditch team caught her attention. The more he described the beautiful redhead and the boorish Quidditch player the more they sounded familiar. In fact, they sounded an awful lot like the stories he'd heard about his parents, Lily and James Potter. Could it be, Harry wondered. Could creepy old Professor Snape have actually had a crush on his mother? Harry's skin crawled at the mere thought-and yet, how different might Snape have turned out if he'd known the love of someone like her?
Harry's brain was beginning to hurt.
At the first opportunity he quickly changed the subject and got Snape talking about the gorgeous blonde. The Potions Master didn't have as much to say about her, except that she was beautiful, she was blonde, and apparently she had a lovely singing voice. Before he realized it, Snape was singing softly to himself. He was no Englebert Humperdink, mind you, but he wasn't half bad.
She's only a bird
In a gilded cage,
A beautiful sight to see,
You may think she's happy
And free from care,
She's not
Tho' she seems to be,
'Tis sad when you think
Of her wasted life,
For youth cannot mate with age,
And her beauty was sold
For an old man's gold,
She's a bird in a gilded cage.[4]
.
Rather old fashioned tastes for a girl from the Disco era, Harry thought to himself. Still, Hogwarts wasn't exactly known as "trendy" to begin with. When Harry asked Snape why he never got anywhere with the blonde, he muttered something about her being rather "two-dimensional". Snape's evasiveness told him that he shouldn't press the matter.
Around one in the morning, Harry and Snape had both grown weary of their little adventure.
"You go on to bed, Potter" Snape sighed. "I'll finish the watch tonight. Perhaps we can come up with a better plan in the morning." Harry wasn't about to argue. He gathered his things and headed for Gryffindor tower.
Relieved of his obligations to Snape, now Harry could concentrate his energies on solving the mystery of Ron Weasley.
*****
Sorry about this, Harry. Ron thought. He reached into the pocket of his pajamas and produced a small amount of silver SleepSand®, which he blew into the air. The dust spread out in a glittering cloud, settling over every bed in the room and gently covering each boy's face. Those who were still awake in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory drifted off to sleep. Those who were already slumbering would sleep even more soundly. Only the simple repellant charm found on the label kept the dust from affecting the person who unleashed it. Ron threw off the covers and shed his pajamas. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans underneath. Putting on his sneakers, he gathered up his book bag and headed out the portrait hole.
Ron had just sprinted past Moaning Myrtle's lavatory, when two figures stepped out of the shadows.
"We have to talk, Ron." Harry and Hermione stood side-by-side, ready to physically obstruct his way if need be.
"I could've sworn I saw you get into bed and go to sleep, Harry." Ron seemed genuinely impressed with his friends' ingenuity. "I spent good money on that SleepSand®, too!" He took the bag out of his pocket and dropped it into a wastebasket sitting on the floor. "How did you manage it?"
"Doppelganger," Hermione replied with a hint of smugness. "If you'd been paying attention at all in 'Camouflage and Illusions' class, you could've made one yourself and nobody would ever have known you were sneaking out at night."
"True. But I've never been the scholar that you are, Hermione. I just have to muddle along as best I can."
Harry stepped forward. "What's going on, Ron?"
"I can't tell you that, Harry."
"We only want to help--"
"Nobody asked you to interfere!"
"Interfere?" Harry repeated, incredulously. Hermione wondered if Ron could see how genuinely hurt Harry was by his friend's harsh words. "I thought we were friends."
"If you were truly my friend, Harry, you'd leave me alone and let me deal with this myself."
"You stupid, thick-headed git!" Hermione exploded, "Don't you get it? You're a pixie's whisker away from being expelled from Hogwarts and you're mad at us for wanting to help you! If Harry hadn't been covering for you all this time, you'd be on the train back to Ottery St. Catchpole right now!"
Ron looked as if he was going to say something vicious and hateful, but then he seemed to catch himself. He took a deep breath. The anger and sarcasm began to drain away.
"I know you both mean well, but I'll be okay, I promise!" He was looking his friend straight in the eye. "I can't explain, Harry, Hermione. I'm just going to have to ask you both to trust me. If you truly are my friends, you'll let me handle this my way." This was a Ron Weasley his friends had never seen before
"It must be something pretty important." Harry said.
"It could be the most important thing I've ever done in my life and it's something I have to do alone. Before it's always been 'The Harry Potter Show'. Harry Potter defeats You Know Who, Harry Potter discovers the Chamber Of Secrets, Harry Potter wins the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry Potter Saves The Whole Bloody World! Well, this is my chance to play the hero for a change."
"You always trusted me when I broke the rules." Harry sighed "I guess I owe you that much." Harry extended his hand. The handshake turned into an embrace. "Just do me a favor and steer clear of Snape's ingredients stores for a few days."
Ron shrugged as if he had no idea what Harry was talking about.
"If you say so."
"Just remember," Hermione chimed, "if you ever do need us, we'll always be there for you. Don't get yourself killed just because you're too stubborn to ask for help." She pulled him close for a hug.
"I won't," he told her. "I promise." He started off down the corridor.
"Good luck." Harry called after him.
"Thanks." Ron Weasley disappeared into the shadows.
"You're more worried about him now than you were before," Hermione said when he was finally out of sight.
"When I was doing all those things he talked about, at least I was smart enough to know when I was in over my head. I know Ron's ego. I'm not sure he could ever bring himself to admit that he'd bitten off more than he could chew." Harry felt Hermione's arm wrap around his waist, her body pressing close to his. "But it's like he said. We're just going to have to trust him…" All the same, Harry decided to keep the Marauder's Map handy--just in case.
*****
"Harry!" Hermione screeched at the top of her lungs as she burst into the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.
"Hey! No girls allowed!" came a voice from the back of the room.
"Granger?" Fred Weasley moaned as other boys joined in the chorus. "It's five o'clock in the bloody morning!"
Dodging a volley of pillows and slippers, Hermione zigzagged her way to Harry's bed and plopped down next to him. She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him as hard as she could.
"Harry! You've got to wake up!"
"Hermione?" He yawned. "I swear you're insatiable! Let me sleep a little longer and get my strength back. We've got the whole afternoon you know!" He kissed her hand, drawing it to his chest, then settled back onto his pillow. Hermione was ready to die from embarrassment-at least somebody was going to die from it! Resisting the urge to strangle Harry with her bare hands, Hermione ignored the snickers of the other boys and tried again.
"HARRY! PROFESSOR SNAPE'S BEEN ATTACKED!"
That got his attention.
****
Madam Pomfrey adjusted the bandage wrapped around Snape's head.
"What happened?" Harry asked.
"Apparently someone thought the Professor's head was a Bludger."
"Will he be all right?" asked Hermione.
"There doesn't appear to be any permanent injury, but he's had a nasty concussion. I'll be able to tell more when he regains consciousness."
Professor Dumbledore pulled Harry and Hermione aside. In the far corner of the infirmary, a woman sat at Madam Pomfrey's desk examining several objects from Snape's office. Her robes were a deep burgundy color and she wore a hood that covered most of her face, leaving only a small portion of her chin visible. From what little he could see, Harry guessed she was in her fifties or sixties.
"This is Madam Lenore," Dumbledore told them, "Visiting Professor of Palmistry and Psychic Precognition. She is assisting with the investigation. Her specialty is picking up psychic vibrations from inanimate objects." She put down the mortar and pestle she was examining and offered her hand to Harry. As he reached out to shake, she grabbed his hand and yanked it toward her, turning it palm up and running her finger along his "lifeline".
"You are the famous Harry Potter!" she carefully examined his palm. "It is a great honor to finally meet you. I've been hoping for a chance to experience your aura."
"That may be the only part of you I haven't experienced." Hermione whispered into Harry's ear. He glared at her with a "Not in front of the teachers!" expression. She smiled sweetly.
"You have a very strong aura, Mr. Potter" Madam Lenore continued, "I sense much courage and resourcefulness. You are not one to sit on the sidelines when others are in danger."
Brilliant deduction, Sherlock! Thought Hermione, unimpressed. Next you'll be telling us that his life will be filled with adventures!
"Your life will be filled with adventures."
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
"You will know great sadness," she told him, "But you will also know great joy." She dropped Harry's hand and grabbed Hermione's. She let go with one hand, which went immediately to Hermione's abdomen. "Your children will be powerful wizards."
Our children? Hermione's mind was racing, Are we destined to be together? She looked directly into Madam Lenore's eyes. Is Harry Potter my soul mate?
"There are such things, my dear," she whispered to Hermione. "But you don't need me to tell you that."
"Have you anything to tell us about Professor Snape's attacker?" Dumbledore said with a hint of impatience.
"Indeed I have, Professor." She picked up a large brass candlestick. "I believe this was the weapon."
"Can you tell us anything about the person who used it?" Harry asked.
Her eyes closed and she clutched the candlestick tightly. She seemed to be going into a trance. "I see a tree with many branches. A table set with many places. Around the table I see many princes, their heads topped by crowns of flame, but their pockets empty. I see a sapling desperate to escape the shadow of the forest. I see a bird in a gilded cage." She opened her eyes. "Was that of any help?"
"Not really," said Hermione.
"Never mind, love," the old woman shrugged. "Fetch us a cup of tea and I'll have another go."
Dumbledore sighed. This was getting them nowhere. He sent Madam Pomfrey for a pot of tea and took Harry and Hermione aside. "I take it you have a suspect in this matter?"
"We do," Harry nodded, "but our evidence is pretty circumstantial. I'd hate to accuse someone prematurely."
"I appreciate your dilemma," Dumbledore said, "but your time is running out. This affair has become quite serious. It's no longer merely a matter of violating curfew. Valuable property has been stolen and a teacher has been brutally assaulted. That is a matter for the authorities. If Professor Snape is able to identify his attacker once he regains consciousness, I will have no choice but to act upon his evidence. You have that long to prove your friend's innocence."
"We understand, Professor."
*****
"You didn't really buy all that stuff about the trees and the tables and the crowns of fire--?" Hermione asked as she and Harry headed back to Gryffindor tower.
"A tree with many branches, a table with many places-a large family." Harry interpreted.
"And the many princes with the crowns of fire and the empty pockets?" Hermione sighed, "A poor family with a whole flock of red-headed boys; The Weasleys." This was getting a little unnerving. "And the sapling trying to escape the shadow of the forest? A boy living in the shadow of his older brothers-Ron." A chill went down Hermione's back. "What about the 'bird in the gilded cage'?"
"Still working on that one," Harry sighed with frustration. Hermione could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. "It was something Snape said to me… I wish I could remember. Maybe I'm just tired." He slammed his hand into his thigh "Dumbledore knew it was Ron all along!"
"Of course he did. That's why he's Headmaster. But I still can't believe that Ron Weasley would ever attack a teacher, not even Snape." Hermione snuggled against Harry's arm. "So, what do we do now, Holmes?"
"'Elementary, my dear Watson'," Harry answered. "Much as it pains me to break my word to Ron, we have to find out what he's up to. For all our sakes, let's pray that he really is just sneaking off to meet a girl."
******
Harry sat on his bed, reading. Most of the other boys were in the showers, getting ready for bed, so the room was virtually empty. He had slipped Hermione the Invisibility Cloak just before they went to bed and she had used it to enter the boys' dormitory. At the appointed time, Harry looked around to make sure no one was watching, drew the curtains and then began feeling around to make sure she had made it safely. For many weeks to come, he would swear he wasn't deliberately aiming for her breast…
"You'll pay for that, Potter!" a disembodied voice whispered into his ear as a derrière-shaped dent formed in the blankets beside him.
"Whatever the price," he whispered back, "It was worth it!" Hermione's invisible elbow jabbed him in the ribs.
"What was that Potter?" came Neville Longbottom's voice from outside.
"Nothing." Harry said, trying to sound nonchalant as he stuck his head out of the curtains. "Just talking to myself."
"That's a sign of mental collapse, you know!" Neville kicked off his slippers as he crawled under the covers. "'Night, Harry!"
Harry went through his usual bedtime rituals in the bathroom, all the while doing his best not to grin like an idiot because he had managed to sneak an invisible girlfriend into the dormitory. He had assumed that Hermione was still waiting beside his bed; until he saw Fred and George Weasley's toothbrushes suddenly switch places. As he carefully felt his way over to the sink, an unseen hand pinched his bum.
"Will you behave!" he hissed through gritted teeth. Fred Weasley gave him a funny look as he walked by.
"Talking to yourself again, Potter?" Hermione giggled softly in his ear. Harry was spared the effort of coming up with a witty retort when Ron emerged from the showers. Much to their joint relief, he was wrapped in a towel.
"Good night, Ron!" Harry called after him. A noncommittal grunt was all he got for his effort. Hermione could see the hurt on Harry's face at his best friend's rebuff.
"You don't suppose", she whispered suggestively, "that we have time for a quick shower before bedtime?" Naughty thoughts that had hitherto been firmly under control now danced like erotic sugarplums in poor Harry's fevered brain.
"Only if it's a cold one…" he sighed.
Harry pulled down the covers and climbed into bed. A moment later he felt a warm sensation as Hermione crawled under the blankets with him, snuggled against his back and kissed his ear. Harry bit his lip, as Ron's bed was much too close to scold her aloud. Fortunately, the curtains were closed. Harry turned over, pulling the covers over his head. Hermione had pulled the Invisibility Cloak away from her head so that her face was now visible. Even though his entire body ached to forget about everything else and make love to her right there and then, Harry did his best to conjure up his most stern fatherly look.
"Do you have any idea how crazy you're making me?"
"Believe me," she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder and snuggling against his chest, "the feeling is mutual."
"What am I going to do with you?" Harry sighed. Hermione leaned close and whispered something in his ear. (Which I leave to the reader's imagination; and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking things like that, by the way!) It was a strange life being a junior wizard. There were days when Harry would've given anything to be someone other than "The Boy Who Lived". Then there were moments like this: perhaps it was just the sheer absurd naughtiness of the whole thing! Snogging with his invisible girlfriend right under the noses of the prefects and all the other Gryffindor boys. Even if Dumbledore personally were to boot him out of Hogwarts tomorrow, at that moment Harry Potter wouldn't have traded places with anyone in the entire world.
*****
"Harry!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Harry! Wake up!" After a full day of classes, wrapped up snug in his nice warm blankets and Hermione's tender embrace, it had been a struggle for Harry to remain awake. Hermione clamped an invisible hand over Harry's mouth before he could groan in protest. "Ron's leaving!" she told him.
Harry peered through a tiny opening in the curtains. Without his glasses, Harry could make out only a redheaded blur climbing out of the next bed and looking around to make sure no one was watching. It looked as if he were pulling off his pajamas. Apparently he was wearing a t-shirt and jeans underneath. Grabbing his shoes and his book bag, he started for the door. As usual, Neville Longbottom was snoring like a chainsaw, so for Ron the creaking floorboards were just a matter of proper timing.
Once Ron was out of sight, Harry grabbed his glasses from the end table, then pulled the covers over his head and wriggled underneath the Invisibility Cloak with Hermione.
"Welcome aboard, Captain!" she whispered cheerfully.
"Ron and I have been a bad influence on you, haven't we?"
"Absolutely." She giggled as she kissed him on the nose.
Harry quickly arranged his pillows underneath the blankets to make it appear that he was still in bed.
"Good luck, Harry!" Neville whispered as they passed by, then resumed his pretend snoring. Harry could only shake his head in bewilderment. Hermione could barely keep from laughing out loud.
Harry and Hermione were a couple of minutes behind Ron and they were afraid they'd lost him already. Fortunately, the time he'd taken to stop and switch from his slippers to his regular shoes allowed them to catch up. Harry couldn't help but be concerned. Ron knew all about the Invisibility Cloak and surely he'd be watching for them. Still, Ron apparently looked right through them as he checked to make sure no one was around. Harry and Hermione hardly dared to breathe until Ron got up and started down the corridor. What neither of them noticed was the thin layer of white powder sprinkled on the stone floor which had made their footprints perfectly visible…
Ron was leading them up through the shifting staircase gallery toward the abandoned third floor. It was here that the three of them had first encountered the gigantic three-headed hellhound misnamed "Fluffy". Luckily for them, Fluffy was now long gone, sent to live with a friend of Hagrid's in Greece. A few doors down, Harry had first discovered the Mirror of Erised, in which he had first seen the faces of his parents. What could Ron possibly want up here in this damp, deserted area of the castle?
As they reached the third floor, Ron had managed to get far enough ahead that he was now out of sight. Harry prayed that they hadn't lost him.
"I don't see him Harry," Hermione whispered. "What do we do?"
"Let's just keep moving and hope we can pick up his trail," he replied, trying to sound decisive. They carefully made their way down the damp cobweb-covered stone corridor.
"Maybe we can find his footprints in the dust." Harry hoped that it wouldn't make them start sneezing and give their location away…
Dust?
Harry looked down at the floor.
"Hermione!" he said, unable to keep his voice down any longer, "That's not dust! It's flour!" Even though they couldn't see it, they could hear it: metal clanking against metal, coming from directly above their heads. Almost as a reflex action, Harry wrapped himself around Hermione, attempting to shield her with his body. He felt a sharp, stinging pain as the first impact struck him squarely on his head, followed by another on his back, then his neck, then his ear. Blow after blow came the rain of metal. The world started to lose focus even before Harry's glasses fell off and clattered to the floor. Just before he slipped into total darkness, he could've sworn he heard a voice echoing inside his head.
"Nice try, Potter! Better luck next time!"
But the voice wasn't Ron's… It was Draco Malfoy's!
Will our heroes survive this terrible trap?
Can they discover Ron's secret before it's too late?
What does the title of the story have to do with any of this?
Tune in tomorrow! Same Bat-Time! Same Bat-Channel!
[1] "My Buddy" Words and music by Walter Donaldson & Gus Kahn
[2] For (almost) all the juicy details, read my story "It Happened One Night"
[3] If you're reading this, "Hi Anise!"
[4] "She's Only A Bird In A Guilded Cage" (Glad Rags to Riches 1932) Lyrics and Music by A.J.Lamb & H.Von Tilzer (1900)