Brian Hendrickson Normal Brian Hendrickson 35 1902 2002-06-01T05:38:00Z 2002-12-02T17:56:00Z 17 5612 31993 266 63 39289 9.3821 Normal 1
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 Four)
"Beautiful Dreamer"
"Flashlights?"
"Check."
"First-Aid kit?"
"Check."
"Climbing Rope?"
"Check"
"Plastic vomit?"
"Check."
"Rubber Chicken?"
"Check."
"Chattering teeth?"
"Check."
The Great Hall at Hogwarts was usually filled with activity, but never with quite so much purposeful energy as today. At the Gryffindor table, the Weasley twins, Fred and George, inventoried the supplies for their expedition to rescue their brother Ron, while their kid sister Ginny rushed to finish her homework as the House-Elves cleaned up after breakfast. At the Slytherin table loitered Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy's henchmen, playing Exploding Snap and shooing away any elves who tried to kibbitz. High above them all, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, a.k.a. "Nearly Headless Nick", brought the other ghosts up to date on the latest adventures of the missing Ron Weasley.
"A painting!" cackled the ghost of old Mordecai Malfoy, one of the Hogwarts Governors. "The Weasleys have always been a bit thick, but can you imagine falling in love with a painting?" Fred and George were too preoccupied to pay attention, but little Ginny looked ready to crawl into the nearest mouse hole.
"I don't see what's so funny," said the portrait of former Charms Professor Madam Wilhelmina Gumbridge, from just over Ginny's shoulder.
"You wouldn't, you great stupid cow!" Mordecai shot back.
Sir Nicholas had levitated down to Ginny. "Never mind that old windbag! I've known the Weasleys for generations," his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "and I'd rather have one Weasley on my side than a whole platoon of Malfoys."
"I heard that," old Mordecai bellowed, "This from a man who couldn't even manage to get his head chopped off properly!" Sir Nicholas responded with a two-finger salute.
"Thanks Nick," Ginny managed a half-smile. "It's not that. I'm just worried about Ron."
"Keep your chin up, luv'! He's got to be all right, you know. If anyone at Hogwarts had 'crossed-over', we'd be the first to know about it."
Cutting through the relative quiet, Goyle's voice was like a foghorn.
"'Bout time too, Potter!"
If Harry and Hermione seemed to be in a world of their own, they were. After spending the night in Harry's emergency shelter[1] he and Hermione had been caught up in a shared romantic daydream that they were newlyweds enjoying their first breakfast together in their new flat-particularly when Hermione managed to get the radio to play something besides 1940's Big Band music and The Beach Boys' Wouldn't It Be Nice? came on. It was difficult to tear themselves away from their fantasy, and some of the giddy afterglow still clung to them as they walked in, arms around each other's waists.
"Now there's something you don't see everyday, Fred."
"What's that, George?"
"One silly grin spread over two different faces."
"Better than seeing the same ugly mug in stereo!" Hermione shot back. Fred and George both pretended that they'd been shot in the chest and fell to the floor in the most melodramatic fashion possible.
Stepping over Fred and kicking George in the side, Ginny handed Harry a note.
"Mum sent this for you, Harry."
"Thanks, Ginny." The sight of Ginny, shifting uncomfortably and trying to avoid his gaze, broke Harry's reverie. It was obvious that she still had a terrible crush on him. The worst thing was that Harry genuinely liked her and hated seeing her so unhappy. Like the rest of the Weasley clan, Ginny had been nothing but kind and supportive of him ever since they'd met at King's Cross Station all those years ago. He really wished he could fix her up with someone nice.
Harry unfolded the note.
Dearest Harry,
Fred, George and Ginny have been keeping me informed about the situation at Hogwarts. You've always had a good head on your shoulders, and I know if anyone can bring our Ron home to us, it's you. Stay close to Fred and George. I've threatened them with their lives should they let anything happen to you. By the same token I expect the three of you to look after our Ginny. I know I must sound like a sentimental old cow, but we Weasleys have come to think of you as one of our own.
Please be careful.
Love,
Molly
Harry quickly rubbed away the tear that was forming in his eye. It was hard not to get emotional. In truth, the Weasley clan had been more of a family to Harry than his aunt or uncle ever had. Harry took a deep breath and composed himself.
A little after nine o'clock, the Grey Lady confirmed the locations of Filch and Mrs. Norris. Fred and George had done some strategic sabotage in Moaning Myrtle's lavatory, which she dutifully reported to the Hogwarts caretaker. With any luck, the job would keep him busy until late afternoon.
"I guess we'd better get going." Hermione picked up the small satchel she'd collected from her room, the Weasleys slipped on their backpacks and they were off.
"Mind if I join you?" Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts stood blocking the entrance to the Great Hall. Ducking to avoid hitting his great hairy head, he stepped inside. "I'd really like to come along, if that's alright, Harry."
Harry grinned up at his friend. "Welcome to the expedition, Hagrid." He motioned for the others to follow. "Let's get moving."
The Southeast Tower, sometimes known as "Merlin's Tower", was believed to be the oldest part of Hogwarts castle, built sometime around 900 A.D. There was no direct historical evidence to prove that this was indeed the residence of King Arthur's favorite wizard, but the legend had grown around it nonetheless.
"This ain't where we followed 'em before," growled Crabbe as the little expedition headed up to the next landing.
"I think Ron and Draco were deliberately trying to lead us on a wild goose chase the first time. Anyway, this is where Myrtle says she saw Ron."
As they approached the next turn in the corridor, Harry held up his hand, bringing the group to a halt. He eased around the corner, dropped into a crouch, pointed his wand forward, and swept it from side to side in front of him. Satisfied that no one was waiting to ambush them, he called over his shoulder to the others, "Clear!" Crabbe leap-frogged into the "point" position and checked the next corner while Harry covered him. At each corner, Goyle, George, and Fred leap-frogged in turn to become "point" and make sure it was safe. It was slow going. By half-past ten they had only made it to the fifth floor. After what had happened the last time they tried to follow Ron, Harry was taking no chances. Remembering the injuries they'd suffered, Crabbe and Goyle weren't about to argue.
The first three floors had presented no problems other than a general fear that the place was unsafe and that the entire tower could collapse on them at any moment.
Nearly Headless Nick poked his head through the wall. "We may have a problem." The ancient stone staircase that lay ahead of them looked none too safe. "I don't think that lot could even support me!"
Harry ventured a tentative toe onto the lowest stone. There was a terrible grinding noise and a cloud of dust as the stair started to give. Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him to safety. She then took out her wand and chanted, "Vescere bracis meis!" The vibrating stone suddenly froze in place. "Everybody move along! I don't know how long I can hold it!" The others quickly scurried up the stairs.
Hagrid hesitated. "You sure it can 'andle me, 'Ermione? Maybe I should stay behind."
"Just go, Hagrid!"
The half-giant moved as quickly as his great bulk would allow. Hermione was on the brink of exhaustion. When he had finally cleared the danger area, Hermione relaxed and a large chunk of the stairway collapsed into rubble and disappeared into the shadows below. At the next landing Harry and the others stood stock-still, hardly daring to move for fear of dislodging more stones.
"Okay, 'Ermione! Your turn!"
Hermione looked down at the ten-foot chasm that now separated them. The remaining stones looked none too steady.
"Come on, lass! I'll catch ye!"
Hermione backed up a few steps, closed her eyes and launched herself into the air. The next thing she knew, she was cradled safely in Hagrid's giant arms.
"That weren't so bad now, was it?" For a moment, the two just sat there laughing, then Hagrid carried Hermione to the top of the stairs and set her down next to a very relieved Harry. Ignoring the taunts of the others, Harry stole a quick hug and a kiss.
Somewhere around the seventh floor they could hear a woman's voice singing in the distance. They knew that they were nearing their goal.
Beautiful dreamer,
Wake unto me,
Starlight and dew drops
Are waiting for thee,
Sounds of the rude world
Heard in the day,
Dulled by the moonlight
Have all passed away.
Moaning Myrtle wasn't exaggerating, Harry thought. She truly has the voice of an angel.
As they reached the door, Hermione unzipped her satchel and pulled out a small phial.
"Before we go in, all the men take a swig of this potion."
"What is it?" Crabbe eyed the lavender colored liquid warily.
"Insurance," she replied.
After all the men-folk had taken a drink, Harry pushed open the door and led the others inside.
Queen of my song,
List while I woo thee
With soft melody,
Gone are the cares
Of life's busy throng,
Beautiful dreamer,
Awake unto me,
Beautiful dreamer,
Awake unto me.[2]
The place was a mess. Apart from the cold, the damp, the cobwebs and the general decay, there were empty candy wrappers and fast food containers everywhere. In one corner of the room a cauldron simmered over a small fire. Empty bottles for powders and potions were scattered around it.
On the far wall hung the portrait of Gwendolyn.
It occurred to Harry that neither Myrtle's descriptions nor Hagrid's little photo did her justice. She was exquisitely beautiful. Her skin, her hair, her lips were almost too perfect to be real. The artist who painted her must have poured his soul into every brush stroke.
At her feet lay the object of their search: Ron Weasley, fast asleep, his wizard's robes rolled into a ball as a makeshift pillow.
"Shhhh," Gwendolyn said softly, raising a finger to her perfect lips. "Don't wake him. I finally managed to convince him to get some sleep. He's been working so hard these past few days."
Hagrid shyly stepped forward.
"'lo, Gwen." He could barely meet her gaze. He ground the toe of his huge boot into the stone floor and twiddled his thumbs behind his back.
"Can it really be?" She tilted her head, uncertain of her memory, "Rubeus Hagrid? Is that really you?"
"Yep." He looked like a schoolboy trying to give a valentine to his teacher, "'S me alright!"
"You know. I think you do look better with the beard."
Ginny impatiently pushed her way past the others, knelt down and placed her hand on her brother's forehead.
"He has a fever!"
It was all Harry could do to take his eyes from Gwendolyn and see his friend's condition for himself. Ron's face was pale. His brow was beaded with perspiration.
"Oh my!" Gwendolyn's hand went to her mouth. She seemed genuinely concerned. "I knew he was exhausted, but do you think he's really ill? Do you suppose someone should take him down to Madam Yi?"
"Madam Who?" Hermione asked.
"How silly of me." Gwendolyn shook her head. "It's been so long. I don't suppose she's school nurse anymore."
"Fred! George!" Ginny pulled out her wand.
"Beautiful," the twins sighed in unison. It took several attempts for Ginny to wrench their attention away from Gwendolyn. Together the siblings levitated their prostrate brother into the air.
Ginny pulled Hermione aside. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" She nodded apprehensively at Harry, who, like Hagrid, and the others stared transfixed at the painting.
"We'll be okay." Hermione reassured her.
With a final look of concern, Ginny led her brothers out the classroom door and back the way they had come. Hermione walked over and took hold of Harry's hand. Distracted, Harry turned to find her giving him a look of mock disapproval. He gave her a grateful smile.
"We never gave up lookin' for you, Gwen…" Hagrid said almost apologetically.
"You mustn't blame yourself for what happened," she said gently.
"May I ask, just what did happen?" Harry interrupted.
Gwen picked up her skirts and made an elegant curtsey. "You must be the famous Harry Potter. Your reputation precedes you, sir."
"I've heard a great deal about you as well, Miss Dubois," Harry bowed stiffly in return, "Particularly about how you disappeared all those years ago. I was wondering who stole you." Gwen couldn't help but notice that Harry wasn't fawning over her as intently as the others. Instead, he was holding tightly to Hermione's hand. Hermione got the distinct impression that this was an unwelcome deviation from the girl's agenda. Gwen looked decidedly uncomfortable for a second, but quickly recovered her composure.
"Truth be told, Mr. Potter, I really don't know. I never saw their faces."
"There were more than one? Were they wearing masks?"
"Could we talk about this another time, Mr. Potter?" she pleaded, "I'm very worried about Ron-Mr. Weasley-and I was wondering if someone could carry me down to the Hospital Wing so I could be there for him when he recovers?"
"I'll do it!" Hagrid waved his hand in the air. He shot a plaintive look at Harry as if asking for permission. Hermione pulled Harry aside to confer.
"I don't trust her, Harry," she whispered. "She hasn't given you a straight answer to a question yet."
"I tend to agree with you," Harry said softly, "but so far we don't have the slightest bit of proof that she's done anything wrong-and in the state he's in we can't be sure how Hagrid might react if we really go after her." With a sigh of resignation, Harry nodded to his friend. "Go ahead, Hagrid."
The giant practically skipped over to the wall.
"I'll try to be gentle now, Gwen, but you'd best hang on tight to summat." Gwen braced herself against a large Romanesque column in the background of her painting. Hagrid took hold of the frame and tenderly lifted the picture until the wire in the back was clear of the nail in the wall.
"'Ere! Just a minute!" came Crabbe's voice. He shook his head as if trying to fight off a headache. "We're forgettin' somethin'… I was gonna ask about-"
"Draco Malfoy," Hermione reminded him.
"Draco…? Oh yeah… Draco."
"Oooooooh!" Gwendolyn cried as Hagrid's massive hands struggled to keep her upright. "Draco? He said he was-Oops! -going into Hogsmeade for supplies. That was two days ago and Ron and I haven't seen him since. Oh! Do be careful, Rubeus!"
Once Hagrid had maneuvered the painting out the door, Harry's head began to clear a little. Sir Nicholas and the others were following Gwendolyn out the door.
"That's one powerful love charm!" Hermione sat down on one of the tables. "I'm not even a boy and I could feel it!"
"I'm sorry," said Sir Nicholas, shaking his head, "Did you say something, Hermione?"
"It wasn't important, Nick." Harry barely suppressed a laugh watching the specter peering out the door after Gwendolyn. "I don't think we'll need you anymore."
"Right…" And with that, Sir Nicholas drifted off down the corridor.
"It must be powerful if it affects you even after you're dead. " Sitting next to her, Harry took Hermione's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Even with that counter-charm potion you gave us, it was hard to think straight. Thank goodness you were here to focus on or I would never have been able to concentrate." Harry stole another quick kiss.
"You're welcome." Hermione and Hermione stepped out into the corridor as the strange procession disappeared down the stairs. "You think she was telling the truth about Malfoy?"
"Right now I don't know if she's telling the truth about anything." Reentering the classroom, Harry picked up the book of poetry that Ron had been reading to Gwen. It open at one particular poem:
"If in the morning when you wake,
If the sun does not appear,
I will be here.
If in the dark we lose sight of love,
Hold my hand and have no fear,
I will be here.
I will be here,
When you feel like being quiet,
When you need to speak your mind I will listen.
Through the winning, losing, and trying we'll be
together,
And I will be here.
If in the morning when you wake,
If the future is unclear,
I will be here.
As sure as seasons were made for change,
Our lifetimes were made for years,
I will be here.[3]"
It was still hard to imagine Ron Weasley reading poetry to anyone but the Chudley Cannons, but Harry and Hermione couldn't help but be touched by the sentiment of this particular poem. Harry felt Hermione's hand tighten around his. Hermione knew that Harry Potter could write the book on loneliness. She covered his hand with hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Harry would never be lonely again if she had any say in the matter. It was a conversation totally without words, but it's meaning was clearly understood by both parties, nonetheless.
The stolen library books were piled on one of the nearby tables. Harry picked them up and handed them to Hermione. "Before we hand these in, I want you to go through them."
"What am I looking for?"
"I don't know yet."
"Fine," Hermione shrugged, "So, how will I know when I've found it?"
Harry paced anxiously back and forth.
"Why was Gwendolyn so evasive when I asked who moved her all those years ago? You'd think she'd be anxious to expose the thieves!"
"Hagrid was convinced that the Slytherins did it," Hermione reminded him. "Now that I think about it, why bother stealing her? As Hagrid said, once she was a real live girl again, it would be 'every man for himself'."
"You suppose the girls did it?"
"No." Hermione gave him an evil smile. "We witches have other ways of dealing with romantic rivals." She considered for a moment. "Maybe the Slytherins wanted the honor of releasing her themselves?"
"If that's the case, why didn't they just do it? Why is she still a painting?"
"There's a very simple answer for that, Harry," came a familiar voice from the doorway. "The Slytherins didn't take the painting and neither did the girls." Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, strode into the room. Though he would never again be the man he was before he was thrown into Azkaban Prison, he looked healthier and more fit than the last time Harry had seen him. His face had begun to fill out and the dark circles under his eyes had started to fade.
"Sirius!" Harry threw his arms around his dear friend. "How did you get into Hogwarts without anyone noticing?"
"People noticed, Harry. Fortunately, the ones who did were nice enough to pretend that they didn't." He turned his attention to Hermione. "Well! Can this really be the frizzy-haired little witch I met in the Shrieking Shack so long ago?" She gave him a hug. "Now what are all these stories I'm hearing about you two getting caught in a blizzard-?"
Harry quickly changed the subject. "So, the Marauders stole Gwendolyn, did they?"
"We all adored her-but we realized that the price for releasing her was more than any of us were willing to pay."
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
Sirius picked up one of the stolen books and began flipping through it. "We tried the spells for releasing someone who had been changed into an inanimate object. They didn't work. We tried every variation we could think of-until we finally realized that Gwendolyn was never a real girl to begin with."
"Never a real girl?" Harry shook his head.
"She was a painting" Sirius explained patiently. "She always has been, and always would be a painting."
"She was lying, then," Harry was getting angry. "To you and my dad, to Hagrid, and now to Ron!"
Sirius set the book down. "To tell you the truth, Harry, I think she's been giving people that story about the lustful wizard for so long that she may have started to believe it herself. We can only imagine what it must have been like to hang there on the wall day after day, watching the rest of the world go by. Somehow, the artist who painted her was able to imbue his work with an intelligence and self-awareness that very few other paintings have."
Hermione picked up one of the forbidden books. "You said 'the price was too high' to release her…?"
"Since she was never truly alive to begin with, we would've had to infuse her with a massive amount of life energy to stabilize her human form. Otherwise she would've reverted back to being a painting within a few days."
Suddenly all the pieces fell into place. "How much energy would you need to drain off?"
"All of it." Sirius Black was not one to mince words.
"Wait a minute." Harry's head was spinning. "Let me be clear about this-"
"In order to release Gwendolyn and make her a real girl, we would've had to sacrifice the life of another human being."
******
"Is it absolutely necessary to have this-person-staring down at me while I'm trying to work?" There was something about the way Madam Pomfrey and Gwendolyn regarded each other as Hagrid positioned Gwen's canvas on the wall of the Hospital Wing. Ginny likened it to a pair of lionesses stalking the same gazelle, each sizing up the other, deciding whether the meal would be worth the battle. Madam Pomfrey's professional instincts quickly took over as Fred and George Weasley levitated their ailing brother into the bed opposite Gwen's painting.
"You found him!"
"He's running a fever, and-" Ginny began.
"Hush, luv'." Madam Pomfrey was already conducting a full examination of her patient. "Poor pet. You've almost worn yourself to a frazzle." Her assistants herded Fred, George and Hagrid out into the corridor. Little Ginny had managed to blend into the background enough to escape their notice.
From the other end of the wing Ginny could hear Professor Snape shouting, "I am fine, I tell you! When can I get out of this sterile, white-linened prison?"
"You will be released as soon as Madam Pomfrey certifies that you are fit to return to your duties," Dumbledore's voice countered, "Not before."
"It's obvious even to the most obtuse mind that the Weasley brat is responsible for all this," came a third voice, this one cold and pitiless. "Have the boy arrested and be done with it! Then you can concentrate on the business of finding my son!"
Ginny tiptoed over to the screened-off area from where the voices originated and peeked through a gap between the screens. She immediately recognized the third man as Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. Dressed to the nines as always, he wore a long flowing cape over immaculately tailored silk robes. He was slapping a pair of black dragon's hide gloves into the palm of his left hand.
"Did you get a look at your attacker, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
The Potions Master shifted uncomfortably. "I was hit from behind. I never saw his face." Clearly, that was not what the elder Malfoy wanted to hear.
"You see, Lucius? I'm afraid the evidence is simply too circumstantial to call in the authorities at this time." Dumbledore seemed almost relieved. "We will, of course, continue to investigate the matter."
"Just see that you do." Malfoy growled, "And see that you find my son! My patience is not infinite, Albus." Ginny ducked down under a nearby bed as Lucius Malfoy stalked past her towards the exit.
Once Lucius was out of earshot, Dumbledore resumed speaking, but in a conspiratorial whisper. "It wasn't the Weasley boy who attacked you, was it, Severus?"
"I told you, I never saw his-"
"It was young Malfoy, wasn't it?"
"After I was hit, and just before I lost consciousness, I could've sworn I heard Draco's voice laughing at me, but I could have been hallucinating."
"Interesting," Dumbledore stroked his ancient whiskers, "Since Madam Lenore's psychic impressions all seemed to point to Ronald Weasley."
"Quite frankly, I wouldn't believe Madam Lenore if she told me the sun were going to rise tomor-"
Ginny's elbow bumped against a bedpan. She quickly ducked under the bed again.
"Did you hear something?" Dumbledore peered out from behind the screen.
Lucius Malfoy had stopped at the foot of Ron Weasley's bed and was staring up at Gwendolyn, who was softly singing:
In my sweet little Alice blue gown,
When I first wander'd down into town
I was both proud and shy,
As I felt ev'ry eye,
But in ev'ry shop window
I'd primp, passing by
Then in a manner of fashion I'd frown
And the world seemed to smile all around,
Till it wilted I wore it,
I'll always adore it,
My sweet little Alice blue gown.[4]
"Oh, do give it a rest!" Madam Pomfrey called over her shoulder. "I'm trying to work here!"
""I was only trying to help him feel better." Gwen did her best not to sound hurt. "Ron always said that my singing relaxed him. Will the real doctor be here soon?"
"Real doctor?" Madam Pomfrey sputtered. She was just about to give Gwendolyn a complete recitation of her résumé and very specific suggestions as to exactly what Gwen could do with it if she didn't pipe down.
"Forgive me, that was uncalled for." Gwen was all sweetness and light, but she seemed to enjoy getting the nurse's goat. "What exactly is Ron's condition?"
In spite of her anger, Madam Pomfrey's professionalism quickly took over again. "He's suffering from exhaustion. There are also signs of dehydration, exposure and malnutrition."
"It was terribly cold up in that tower," Gwen said apologetically, "and I'm afraid Ron and Draco have been living on nothing but junk food and caffeine for nearly a week. I tried to convince them to eat properly and rest, but they simply wouldn't listen."
"Gwendolyn…" Lucius Malfoy whispered.
"Lucius?" her voice was as sweet as honey, "It's been a long time."
"Now, don't you start mooning over her as well!" Madam Pomfrey said in exasperation. "Believe it or not, some of us have work to do!" She grabbed Lucius Malfoy by the collar of his very expensive silk cape and practically gave him the "bum's rush" out the door. "You can come back during normal visiting hours!"
Ginny tried to take advantage of the row to slip away unnoticed but as she tried to leave, a gloved hand caught her by the shoulder. The hand spun her around to face its owner, Lucius Malfoy.
"The littlest Weasley, I presume?"
"Ginny," she said, trying to make it sound proud and defiant-but barely managing a passable Minnie Mouse impression.
"I assume you're going to make a full report to everyone's hero, Harry Potter?" Lucius knelt down, bringing them face-to-face. "Tell Mr. Potter that I shall be waiting outside the entrance to Slytherin house in one hour. I wish to speak to him."
*****
"Since your father, Remus and I were in charge of the search party looking for Gwen," Sirius told Harry and Hermione, "it wasn't difficult to keep her hidden from the others. We hated to have to deceive everyone like that, but we couldn't take the risk that some poor lovesick fool would fall under her spell and end up killing someone in order to bring her to life. You saw what a powerful effect she has on people. If anything, I think it's grown stronger over the years."
"Snape said he'd figured out how to release her."
Sirius shook his head and sighed.
"Severus had some half-baked theory about having everyone 'donate' a small amount of life energy, but his figures just never added up. He'd never admit it, but I think his brain was just as addled as everyone else's."
"I wonder…" Harry said. He opened Hermione's satchel and took out the small Chia-Pet figure of a pig he had borrowed. He held it over the stolen library books. The image formed by the multi-colored plants was awash in pinks, purples, and golds.
"An enchantment detector?" Hermione laughed. "Where did you get that?"
"Madam Pomfrey loaned it to me." They carefully studied the image.
"You'd expect a book from the Hogwarts library to have at least a couple of enchantments on them," Hermione pointed out. "Spells to return them to their proper places when they're put on the wrong shelves, spells to let the librarians know when they're overdue; that sort of thing." She indicated the purple areas. "These spells, however, are a horse of an entirely different color. These indicate some very complicated, very powerful magic."
"That could be how Gwen ensnares them," Harry mused. "They fall in love with her, look for the spell to release her, then the spells on the books take over their minds."
"Wait a minute," Sirius said. "We all fell in love with Gwen, but we were still thinking clearly. That's why we hid her."
"This spell must be relatively new…" Harry speculated.
"A painting couldn't cast that kind of enchantment." Hermione pointed out. "Even if she could, how would she have gotten to the library to do it?"
"You think she might have had an accomplice?" Harry shrugged.
"Show the books to Professor Flitwick." Sirius suggested. "He'll be able to give you a better idea of exactly what the charms are and how to defeat them. I don't know how much luck you'll have, but it might be a good idea to keep your friend Ron away from Gwen if at all possible."
"We'll do our best, but to tell you the truth, I'm more worried about Draco Malfoy. I'd feel a lot better if I knew where he was and what he was up to."
"Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Sirius grinned. "Smart boy. Just thank your lucky stars you're dealing with Draco and not his father! Believe me, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." He took hold of Harry's and Hermione's hands and pressed them together between his own. "I'm so glad you two found each other." Now they were both blushing. "I'm headed into Hogsmeade. Maybe I can ferret out where young Malfoy is hiding. I'll be in touch."
With that, Sirius melted into the shadows and disappeared.
"I wish he'd teach me how to do that," Harry sighed.
*****
As they walked back toward Gryffindor Tower, Harry was suddenly struck by a thought.
"What is it?"
"There's something I'd like to ask Madam Pomfrey-" He caught himself, squeezing her hand tightly. "-but it can wait."
"I think I can make it to Professor Flitwick's office by myself, Harry!"
"As long as Malfoy is missing-"
Cho Chang appeared around a corner with an armload of books. Harry hadn't really spoken to Cho since the death of Cedric Diggory. Since then, they'd said "hi" to each other in the hallways, but that was about it. She was just as attractive as ever. If pressed, Harry would have had to admit that she was prettier than Hermione-and yet without the emotional connection he and Hermione shared, her beauty didn't seem to affect him in quite the same way as before.
"Cho!" Harry called out. "Here! Let me give you a hand with those!" Before she could say anything, Harry had relieved her of about half her load, which he immediately unloaded onto Hermione. "You know, it occurs to me that you two never had a chance to really get to know each other-!"
"I don't need a babysitter, Harry," Hermione hissed through gritted teeth.
Harry didn't miss a beat. "-And that is a shame, because you have so much in common!"
"For instance?" Cho eyed the two Gryffindors with suspicion. She had the feeling she was being set up for some kind of inter-house prank.
"Yes... Well, er, I have to go take care of something. You two run along and have fun now." Harry took off at a dead run toward the Hospital Wing.
The awkward silence seemed to go on forever.
"So," Hermione said, "Can I carry your books back to the dorm for you?"
"Why not?" Their laughter broke the ice. They started toward the dorms.
"Madam Lenore!"
The visiting Professor of Palmistry and Psychic Precognition grabbed Harry's arm as he headed toward the Hospital Wing. Her grip was feeble. She was short of breath and she seemed to be having trouble standing. "Are you all right?"
"I've had another vision, Harry Potter!" Her voice was low and raspy. "Am I to understand that Draco Malfoy has still not been found?"
"Not yet. He's supposed to be in Hosgmeade. A friend of mine is checking on it."
"Remember my prophecy, Harry Potter! As long as he is at large, Miss Granger is in great peril."
"Don't worry. I'm going to make sure that somebody is with her at all times until he's found."
"It may already be too late, Harry Potter." Her voice was grim. "I have also prophesied his redemption-but only at the cost of someone dear to you."
"Meaning no offense, Madam Lenore, but that prophecy is going to come true over my dead body." Harry dashed off down the corridor.
"So be it, Harry Potter."
"I never got a chance to thank you for talking the Grey Lady into helping us," Hermione said as she and Cho neared Gryffindor Tower.
"No problem," Cho shrugged, "It was kind of nice to get her out of the Ravenclaw common room for a while. She can be a bit of a nuisance around exam time when everyone's studying and she gets bored." Finally, Cho's curiosity got the better of her. "So what was that all about back there?"
"It's a long story. Harry can be a bit of a worrier sometimes."
"I'd think it'd be nice to have someone who worries about you."
"It is, but he can overdo it sometimes."
"I understand that you and Harry have gotten very… 'close' recently."
Hermione's ears pricked up. Perhaps it was just her natural contrariness-perhaps she really did see Cho as potential rival-but for some reason, Hermione was sorely tempted to blurt out something exceedingly crude about how she and Harry had been sleeping together for ages now. It took all the self-control she could muster to say, "Yes. I suppose we have."
"That's nice." The awkward silence set in again.
"So?" Hermione said, not really knowing what she would follow it with. "How have you been doing?"
"Okay, I guess." After another long silence, she finally blurted out, "It's okay to talk about him. I don't burst into tears at the mention of Cedric's name anymore."
"I'm sorry, Cho. I can only imagine what that's like."
"Everybody wants to be nice, but nobody knows what to say." Then, it was as if all the emotions she'd kept bottled up inside suddenly burst out. "Cedric's friends-even his family-treat me like I'm his widow. He was a nice boy! We went to the Yule Ball together! We had a few laughs! Of course he didn't deserve to die like that, but how long am I supposed to mourn for him? If I so much as talk to a boy, everyone looks at me like I'm betraying his memory!"
"Believe me," Hermione assured her, "I understand."
"You and Harry may be the only people in the world who do understand." She sighed. "I guess we're both part of The Legend Of Harry Potter now. Tell me. Do you ever get used to it? The staring? The whispering behind your back when they think you can't hear them? Everyone always carefully watching what they say in front of you?"
"Not really. It helps if you have friends-someone you can talk to."
"I'm beginning to wonder if I have any real friends..." Cho said wistfully.
"I think you do." They started to leave. Hermione wasn't sure what made her stop, but she did. "If you ever just want to talk… about Quidditch or… whatever…"
"Thanks Hermione."
They heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Ginny Weasley was running toward them at top speed. She stopped right in front of them, bent over and grabbed her knees as she tried to catch her breath.
"Harry!" she said between gasps, "Where's Harry?"
"He was headed for the Hospital Wing," Hermione told her.
"Figures." Ginny huffed. She doubled over again, trying to stabilize her breathing. When she stood up once more, she noticed something moving in the shadows behind Hermione.
Cho screamed.
Harry finished his business with Madam Pomfrey and was on his way out when two disheveled figures burst through the door. Ginny and Cho looked as though they'd fought their way out of a prison riot. Their faces, arms and legs were bruised. Blood ran from Ginny's nose. Each was doing her best to keep the other on her feet.
"Oh my poor dears!" gasped Madam Pomfrey.
"Harry!" Ginny sobbed. "I'm so sorry." Harry tenderly took the little girl into his arms and helped her into the nearest empty bed.
"What happened?
"We tried to help her. We both tried to hex him but he was just too strong…"
"What are you talking about?"
"It's Hermione," Cho said as she dropped down onto a nearby chair. "She's been kidnapped."
Harry's eyes narrowed. His fists clenched and his cheeks flushed red with rage.
"MALFOY!"
to be continued…
END OF CHAPTER FOUR
[1] If you haven't read my story "It Happened One Night" by now then just forget about it!
[2] Stephen Foster
[3] Steven Curtis Chapman
[4] Harry Tierney (music) - Joseph McCarthy (lyrics)