The Fire You Touch

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Chapter 19: ItÂ’s All In The Game

"Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway transforming into other people. Aeryn sincerely hoped that the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces.

The four of them were barricaded in the out-of-order girlÂ’s bathroom, huddled into one of the stalls as they peered at the mold-eaten pages of Moste Potente Potions. Moaning Myrtle, the bathroomÂ’s resident haunt, was blubbering morosely in one of the stalls next to them, but they were ignoring her, and she them.

"This is the most complicated potion I’ve ever seen," said Hermione as they scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they’re easy enough, they’re in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves…oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn—don’t know where we’re going to get that—shredded skin of a boomslang, that’ll be tricky too—and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."

"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d’you mean, a bit of whoever we’re changing into? I’m drinking nothing with Crabbe’s toenails in it—"

Hermione continued as if she hadnÂ’t heard him. "We donÂ’t have to worry about that yet, because we add those bits lastÂ…"

Aeryn ran a finger down the spotted page. "Hermione, have you realized how much weÂ’re going to have to steal?" Half of the ingredients she had never heard of, much less owned.

"Shredded skin of a boomslangÂ…" Harry shook his head. "WhatÂ’re we going to do, break into SnapeÂ’s private storeroom?" He shuddered at the thought.

So did Aeryn. If they stole from Snape, and were caughtÂ…the idea of what he would do to her made her head spin. She bit her lip and tapped the page. "I donÂ’t know if this is a good idea. Think of how many school rules weÂ’re going to breakÂ…and how many points weÂ’ll get taken from Gryffindor if weÂ’re caught," she added, knowing that Hermione would usually rather die than take any points away from their House.

Hermione shut the book shut with a snap. "Like you should talk about breaking rules," she said in a low voice.

Aeryn looked at her quizzically. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"IÂ’m talking about you sneaking out after hours!" Hermione snapped. "Two times this week I woke up in the middle of the night, and you werenÂ’t in your bed!"

Harry and Ron stared at Aeryn.

"What do you mean, I wasnÂ’t in my bed?" Aeryn asked indignantly, feeling her face grow hot. "I was there! You must have just woken up when I went to the bathroom or something!"

HermioneÂ’s lips tightened. "Both nights I stayed awake until three in the morning until you finally came crawling back to the dorm! You know that leaving the dorm after lights-out is at least twenty points if youÂ’re caught. So donÂ’t act as if youÂ’re worried about breaking rules!"

"What were you doing out after hours?" Ron asked curiously.

"IÂ…" Aeryn couldnÂ’t think of a fast retort. She could feel her face growing redder by the second as her three friends looked at her, waiting for an explanation. "What I was doing is none of your business," she snapped finally, glaring at Hermione. "The point is that we shouldnÂ’t be making this potion. ItÂ’s too risky."

"Risky, my foot! Well, if you three are going to chicken out, fine," Hermione said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. "I don’t want to break the rules, but I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don’t want to find out if it’s Malfoy, I’ll go straight to Madame Pince now and hand the book in—""

"Good God, Hermione, I never thought IÂ’d see the day when youÂ’d be persuading us to break school rules," said Ron.

Hermione lifted her chin determinedly. "This is important to me, Ron."

Ron sighed. "All right, weÂ’ll do it. But not toenails, okay?"

Harry shrugged in defeat. Aeryn folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at her friends, hoping that the irregular thumping of her heart wasnÂ’t audible in the small bathroom stall.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at her. "Aeryn? What dÂ’you say?"

Aeryn swallowed. She really didnÂ’t have much of a choice. "Okay, fine. IÂ’m in, too."

"How long is this potion going to take to make, anyway?" said Harry.

"If we get all the ingredients, itÂ’ll be ready in about a month," said Hermione, looking much happier as she opened the book again.

"A month?" said Ron. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!" But HermioneÂ’s eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, "But itÂ’s the best plan weÂ’ve got, so full steam ahead, I say."

But as they crept out of the bathroom, ignoring Moaning MyrtleÂ’s groans, Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered loudly, "ItÂ’ll be a lot easier if you just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow."

* * *

Large banners emblazoned with the House colors fluttered in the air above the Quidditch stadium, decorating the field with a multicolored tapestry. On one side of the field hung a golden lion against a scarlet background; on the other, a silver serpent twining on a field of green.

"We are going to demolish Slytherin," Ron said. He, Aeryn, and Hermione were bundled up in a blanket in the Gryffindor section. Since the day was so chilly, they had decided to forego their usual school robes and were wearing jeans, tennis shoes and heavy sweaters. "It doesnÂ’t matter how good those Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones are that MalfoyÂ’s dad bought for the teamÂ…itÂ’ll take more than a fancy broom to beat Harry to the Snitch!"

"HeÂ’d better," Aeryn joked, looking out across the field. The stadium was packed. Scarlet and gold winked between the sea of students, with one very small section waving flags of silver and green. "ItÂ’s my first real Quidditch match, after allÂ…I want this to be a good memory!"

"Hey, Ron, Hermione!" Neville Longbottom waved at them from several rows down. "Hi, Aeryn! Think weÂ’ll win today?"

Hermione cupped her hands around her mouth. "You bet!" she called, getting to her feet. "WeÂ’ve got the best Seeker in fifty years, and he didnÂ’t have to buy his way onto the team!" A loud cheer erupted from the Gryffindor section with her words, drowning out the boos and hisses from the Slytherins across the stadium.

"Granted, the Slytherin team is very good," Aeryn said as Hermione sat back down. "I saw them practicing on the field a few days agoÂ…their Chasers can probably outfly even Angelina, and their Beaters are each as large as Fred and George put together."

"Yeah, but MalfoyÂ’s the Seeker," Hermione scoffed. "Malfoy. The Snitch could be sitting on his shoulder and he wouldnÂ’t see it!"

"DonÂ’t even suggest that the Slyths could win, Aeryn," Ron said warningly. "YouÂ’ll jinx us, and then weÂ’ll lose."

"We’re not going to lose," Aeryn said happily. She hadn’t felt this good in weeks. Due to his mysterious sickness, no one—including her—had seen Professor Snape since Potions class the day before. Although some of the students were concerned at his sudden disappearance, Aeryn had been free of his wandering eyes for an entire day, and—the best part—he hadn’t called her to his rooms that evening. Even the impending doom of Slytherin’s Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones couldn’t dampen her spirits. Aeryn put a hand over her heart and lifted her eyes to the skies. "As a symbol of my belief in our team, I swear that if Slytherin wins this match, I will…" She paused, trying to think of a suitable punishment.

"Run across the field naked," Ron suggested.

AerynÂ’s eyes glittered mischievously. "YouÂ’d like that, wouldnÂ’t you?"

Ron made a face. "Not particularly."

Aeryn punched him in the arm.

"Ow. You punch like a girl." But Ron was grinning as he rubbed his arm.

"You wouldnÂ’t really, would you?" Hermione asked doubtfully.

"Hermione," Aeryn said. "I could swear to eat twenty-five tons of HagridÂ’s treacle fudge, but it wouldnÂ’t matter, since Gryffindor is going to win the match!" The last words were shouted at the top of her lungs, and were echoed by a resounding cheer from the Gryffindor section. Across the field, someone in the block of green and silver began a heavy cry of "Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!" until the entire House was chanting.

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" Aeryn, Ron, and Hermione yelled, pounding their fists against their seats. The rest of the Gryffindors joined their cry, and soon the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were all shouting with them, easily drowning out the Slytherin cheers.

Suddenly, a cheerful voice crackled through the air and cut through the studentsÂ’ cheers. "ItÂ’s cloudy and cold, but through it all, the Quidditch must go on!" sang Lee Jordan, Gryffindor and official Quidditch commentator. "Welcome, teachers, students, and staff, to the first Quidditch match of the yearÂ…Gryffindor versus Slytherin!"

The crowd exploded in cheers.

"It’s sure to be a good game today, folks," Jordan continued over the roaring of the fans. "The Slytherin team has made some adjustments from last year, dropping their old Seeker and sprucing up their broom closet. They’ve got the speed, they’ve got the power, but those Slyths don’t have Gryffindor’s Seeker, the fabulous Harry Potter, who’ll fly circles around that smug, daddy’s-boy Malfoy—"

"Jordan," Professor McGonagall called warningly. "Remember, keep it objective."

"Right-o, Professor McGonagall." Aeryn grinned. Lee JordanÂ’s bias for his team was legendary, as was his distaste for anything Slytherin. "And now, without further ado, I give youÂ…the brave, the proud, the bestÂ…the Gryffindors!"

The door on the left side of the stadium swung open, and the roaring of the crowd increased triplefold as the Quidditch team of Gryffindor walked onto the field. Aeryn leapt to her feet, cheering and yelling at the top of her lungs. Harry was at the very end of the team, and as he gave a very small smile to the Gryffindors, a deafening cry rose into the air. Oliver WoodÂ’s waved to the Gryffindors with a confident smile on his face as he walked to the center of the field. His eyes found Aeryn in the crowd and he pointed to her and winked. Ron dug an elbow into her side and she winced.

"And now, opposing the Gryffindor teamÂ…the slimy, the devious, the underhandedÂ…"

"Jordan!"

yelled Professor McGonagall from the stands.

"Sorry, ProfessorÂ…letÂ’s give a hand forÂ…the Slytherins!"

Aeryn, Ron, and Hermione booed as loud as they could as the door on the right end of the stadium opened, and the Slytherin team entered the stadium. The team looked very sullen as they clutched their Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones in their hands.

Madame Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, made Oliver shake hands with Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain. They did, with threatening glares and a grip so tight it turned their knuckles pale.

"On my whistle!" Madame Hooch shouted. "ThreeÂ…twoÂ…oneÂ…"

The whistle blew shrilly, and the fourteen players mounted their brooms and took to the sky. Aeryn, Ron, and Hermione shrieked and jumped up and down as Harry zoomed into the air like a lighting bolt, searching for the elusive Snitch.

"This is going to be great," said Hermione happily, settling back down in her seat.

Aeryn didnÂ’t comment, her eyes admiring as she watched Harry soar through the air. He had been born to fly, she realized as he zipped around the stadium, his scarlet and gold robes trailing out behind him like a cometÂ’s tail. He looked perfectly at home on his broom, as if nothing could phase or bother himÂ…

At that moment, a heavy black Bludger whizzed over HarryÂ’s head, so close that it ruffled his unruly hair.

"Ooh!"

cried Lee Jordan as the crowd gasped. "That Bludger almost nailed Potter! Those Gryffindor Beaters had better get their act together before their Seeker gets crushed to a pulp!"

"Close one, Harry," Aeryn muttered under her breath as George Weasley gave the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Slytherin Chaser Adrian Pucey. But his whack did no good, for the Bludger instantly doubled back and veered straight for Harry.

After a few minutes, the Gryffindors’ confident moods were beginning to dampen. It was obvious that the Slytherin’s superior brooms were just that—superior. It seemed like only an instant before Slytherin was leading, forty points to zero. The Bludger had not left Harry alone for an instant the entire game.

"What is going on?" Hermione cried in frustration, leaping to her feet and shaking her fist as one of the Slytherin Chasers scored yet another goal.

At that moment, it began to rain.

"Oh, great," grumbled Ron as a fat raindrop plunked on the end of his nose.

"Hold on a second," Aeryn murmured. The mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air, and George and Fred were flying so close to him that she could barely make out HarryÂ’s unruly head of black hair from where she sat. She absentmindedly drew her wand out of her sleeve, and, with a perfunctory wave, threw a telekinetic field over their heads. The rain stopped an inch over their hair and rolled harmlessly away from them. All around them, other students were throwing up similar barriers or using umbrellas (if they were less skilled).

"Thanks," Hermione said, wiping a sleeve across her wet face.

"For those of you in the stands who are not quite prepared for the inclement weather," Lee Jordan said confidingly as George Weasely batted the Bludger away from Harry with all his strength, "I can cast a Rain-Away Spell, in six different colors, for the small fee of—"

"Jordan, stay focused on the game!" Professor McGonagall yelled.

"Of course, Professor—ooh, there goes Chaser Ford past Keeper Wood—he feints—nearly falls off his broom—and it’s through! Slytherin scores again, leading the game with sixty to zero!"

Up above the crowd, George was signaling frantically for a time out while he struggled to keep the Bludger from breaking HarryÂ’s nose. Finally, Madame HoochÂ’s whistle blew, and Harry and the two Weasleys dove for the ground, still avoiding the Bludger.

"Is that Bludger supposed to be doing that?" Aeryn asked doubtfully as the Gryffindor team huddled on the center of the field, accompanied by boos and hisses from the Slytherin section. "I didnÂ’t think they focused on just one player."

"They don’t," Hermione said angrily, peering through the sheets of rain. She slammed her fists hard against her legs. "I’ll bet you anything one of the Slytherins did something—fixed it so it wouldn’t leave Harry alone."

"Bet it was Malfoy," Ron said darkly. "If he messed with that Bludger and it makes us lose the matchÂ…" His face tightened terribly.

Madame Hooch was walking towards the Gryffindor clump. On the other side of the field, the Slytherin team was jeering loudly, pointing in the direction of the other team. "IÂ’m going to go find out whatÂ’s going on," Aeryn said decidedly. She wriggled her way out of the row and ran down the stand, throwing another telekinetic shield over her head to keep away the rain. A heated discussion was going on between the Gryffindor team, and she leaned over the railing to try and catch what they were saying.

"If we stop now, weÂ’ll have to forfeit the match!" Harry was saying. "And weÂ’re not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!"

"This is all your fault," George Weasley said angrily to Wood. " ‘Get the Snitch or die trying,’ what a stupid thing to tell him—"

"Excellent game, don’t you think, Miss Blake?" came a cheery voice at her shoulder. Gilderoy Lockhart was standing next to her beneath a chartreuse Rain-Away Spell, resplendent in a garish robe of scarlet, gold, green, and silver. "D’you like my garments?" he asked, mistaking the contortion on her face for admiration. He spread his arms and twirled around. "I had them specially made for today. I do love a good game of Quidditch, but I thought it would be unfair to root for just one House—so I thought I’d cheer for both instead!"

"Lovely," Aeryn said absently, leaning even further over the rail. Madame Hooch had joined the Gryffindor huddle and was talking to Wood.

"Granted, it is a little wet out here, but it’s no worse than the day I evicted twenty-four well sprites from a small town’s water source in Gloucester!" Lockhart looked curiously at the Gryffindor team. "I must say, I’ve never quite seen a Bludger act like this one has been doing. The only way Harry’s going to find the Snitch is if it flies up his sleeve—he’s got the Beaters flying around him like a cage. I’m afraid Gryffindor might not have a chance at this match."

The team came out of their huddle. Oliver Wood looked positively apoplectic, and HarryÂ’s face was white, but determined. "HeÂ’ll get the Snitch," Aeryn said confidently. "WeÂ’ll take the match, youÂ’ll see."

"Care to bet on it, Miss Blake?" drawled a cold voice, and AerynÂ’s body turned to stone. Very slowly, with a sinking feeling in her stomach, she turned her head. A loud cheer arose from the crowd as the Gryffindor team mounted their brooms and kicked off the ground, but all of AerynÂ’s attention was focused on the black-robed figure standing next to Gilderoy Lockhart.

A thin smile twitched Professor SnapeÂ’s lips, and Aeryn felt her throat constrict. The Potions master looked healthier than ever. His usual sallow color had returned to his cheeks, and his eyes were clear and lucid. Even his greasy black hair looked as if it had been washed.

"Oh, excellent, it looks as if the match has resumed," Lockhart exclaimed, looking out at the field. "Shall we return to the Slytherin side and find our seats, Severus?"

"Why donÂ’t you go ahead," Snape purred, his eyes locking onto Aeryn. "IÂ’ll catch up in a minute. IÂ’ve got something to discuss with Miss Blake." Lockhart shrugged and disappeared into the crowd, and Snape leaned his arms nonchalantly against the railing next to Aeryn. Aeryn gulped and turned her head to the sky. Harry was whirling in the air above her, trailed narrowly by the rogue Bludger. She winced as the heavy ball nearly missed his head.

"Your Seeker seems to be having problems," Snape commented as Harry flipped upside down on his broom and dove for the ground.

"HeÂ’s better by far than your Seeker any day," Aeryn growled, straining to see through the sheets of rain. "At least Harry has talent. You can dress your Slyths with fancy robes and brooms, but theyÂ’re still nothing more than stupid clods."

SnapeÂ’s thin fingers drummed against the rain-splattered rail. "Very astute observation, Aeryn, but I dare to think that my team has just as much talent, if not more, than yours."

Aeryn bit her lip as Harry swerved to miss the Bludger yet again. "Hardly, Professor."

SnapeÂ’s voice became as cold as the driving rain as Malfoy zoomed past Harry, laughing and pointing. "I believe I told you to call me Severus."

AerynÂ’s fingers clenched around the rail. She forced herself to breathe normally. "WeÂ’re in the middle of the Quidditch stadium, Professor. I donÂ’t really think that calling you by your first name would be wise."

Snape was silent as they watched the teams twirl above them. The Gryffindor team was beginning to look like desperate, drowned rats as the Slytherins scored yet another goal. "Since you seem to be so sure of your teamÂ’s abilities," he said musingly, "I propose a bet."

AerynÂ’s jaw clenched as Harry shot towards the ground an instant before the Bludger smashed into his head.

"If Gryffindor wins the match, as you think will happen, you shall beÂ…given the weekend off." He chuckled to himself as Harry nearly fell off his broom. "However, if Slytherin wins, your presence will be requested in my chambers tonight at midnight."

"YouÂ’re on," Aeryn growled, but inwardly groaned. Harry was talented, but there was no way he would find the Snitch in this weather, especially not with that Bludger bearing down on him like a heat-seeking missile. The rest of the team was valiantly struggling to gain back some points, but were having a hard time. Marcus Flint broadsided Angelina as she zipped for the goal, and she almost fell off her broom.

"Are you certain about this, Miss Blake?" Snape drawled, and Aeryn turned to glare furiously at him. He smiled condescendingly at her. "You might have a better chance at escape if you choose not to betÂ…who knows, I might take pity on you and give you a reprieve if your team losesÂ…"

"I prefer to be in charge of my own fate, thank you very much," Aeryn snarled. Harry twirled in midair to dodge the Bludger, and Malfoy stopped near him, yelling something and laughing meanly. Harry paused, glaring at the Slytherin Seeker—he paused, and Aeryn silently urged him to move, move—then, horribly, the rogue Bludger crunched into his elbow.

"HARRY!" Aeryn screamed as her friend slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom. If he fell from this height, he would be killed…She frantically quested out towards him—as the Bludger swerved for a second attack, this time for Harry’s face, she pulled at it, moving it just enough for it to miss him.

"I think your Seeker broke his arm," Snape said calmly. Aeryn barely heard him. Her hands were clamped against the railing and she was straining towards the Bludger as it doubled back, ready to strike Harry again.

Stretching out his good arm, Harry dove straight for Malfoy’s face. Malfoy’s eyes widened—Harry took his good arm from the broom and grabbed at something—then he was hurtling towards the ground, his knees locked around his broom, and Aeryn was struggling to kept the heavy Bludger from crushing his skull—Harry hit the mud and rolled off his broom. An enormous roar rose from the Gryffindor section, and Aeryn realized finally that they had won, that Harry had caught the Snitch. She gasped a huge sigh of relief as George and Fred Weasley zoomed up on their brooms and captured the rogue Bludger. She let it loose once she was certain they had a firm grip on it, and looked wildly for Harry. He was lying unmoving on the Quidditch field, his thin face white.

Ignoring the furious look contorting Professor SnapeÂ’s face, Aeryn heaved herself over the grandstand rail. Her feet squished uncomfortably in the mud as she landed, and she sprinted across the field to her fallen friend. But Oliver Wood intercepted her before she reached Harry and threw his arms around her.

"Aeryn, we won!" he cried, hugging her. His Quidditch robe was thick with mud, but the smile on his face shone like the sun. "And it’s all thanks to Harry, his best capture yet, I’d say—"

"HeÂ’s hurt!" Aeryn shrieked furiously. "You idiot, you told him to get the Snitch or die trying? Well, thanks to you, he almost did!" She struggled free of OliverÂ’s arms.

Wood’s face dropped. "Aeryn, he’s okay—" He held up an arm as she tried to throw herself towards Harry. "Aeryn! Listen to me, Gilderoy Lockhart just got down here, he’ll take care of him—"

"Lockhart?"

Aeryn screamed. "Get him away from Harry, that git doesn’t have the faintest idea what he’s doing—" She broke free of Wood’s grasp. A group of bedraggled Gryffindors had gathered around Harry, and Aeryn pushed past them with more force than she had intended.

"Oh no, not you," she heard Harry groan.

"DoesnÂ’t know what heÂ’s saying," Gilderoy Lockhart said loudly as he kneeled at HarryÂ’s side. "DonÂ’t worry, Harry, IÂ’m about to fix your arm." Harry quickly tried to sit up, but winced in pain as his arm folded beneath him. Colin Creevey, a Gryffindor first year, hovered around the fallen champion, snapping pictures.

"Er—Professor Lockhart," Aeryn said hastily as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor rolled up his multicolored sleeves. "Wouldn’t it be best to take Harry to the infirmary?"

Lockhart ignored her. "Stand back, everyone!"

"Help," Harry called weakly.

"No—don’t—" Aeryn stretched out a hand, but Lockhart waved his arms, and a greenish light spread across Harry’s broken arm. A gasp arose from the assembled crowd, and Aeryn’s jaw dropped as Harry’s arm collapsed as if it had been pricked like a balloon. Lockhart hadn’t fixed Harry’s bones. He had removed them.

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Well, yes, sometimes that can happen. The important thing to remember, though, is that the bones are no longer broken. Keep that in mind."

Professor McGonagall was instantly on the scene. She took one look at HarryÂ’s limp arm and pursed her lips. She waved her wand and a stretcher appeared out of thin air. "Get on the stretcher, Potter," she said firmly, and Harry quickly obeyed. The deputy headmistress glared at Lockhart, who merely gave a dazzling smile and waved at the crowd of Gryffindors.

"Hey, waitÂ…stop," Harry said as the Gryffindor team began pushing the stretcher away. They halted, and Harry half-raised himself on the stretcher. "AerynÂ…would you mind getting Ron and HermioneÂ…"

"Sure thing, Harry," Aeryn said, after a glance at Professor McGonagall to make sure it was okay. "IÂ’ll get them right away." Harry waved weakly at her with his good arm as she hurried back up to the grandstand. Professor Snape was standing where she had left him, his arms folded across his chest as he glowered at her. Although she was still smoldering with rage at Lockhart, Aeryn smiled broadly. "Gryffindor won," she said simply. "Sorry about your bet."

Barely contained rage was etched across Professor SnapeÂ’s sallow face. "Miss Blake, youÂ’re all wet," he said finally.

For the first time, Aeryn realized that her jeans and sweater were soaked with rain. She put a hand to her wet hair. She had been so intent in stopping the Bludger that she had completely forgot to maintain the telekinetic field over her head.

Oh no, IÂ’ll bet Ron and Hermione are furiousÂ…She looked up at that moment and saw her two friends running down the stairs towards her. Surprisingly, they were still dry.

"You canÂ’t cast Rain-Away Spells worth beans, Aeryn," Ron said as he pointed to her drenched clothes. "Yours disintegrated after Harry got hit with the Bludger, but fortunately Hermione was able to magic one up quick."

"HarryÂ’s all right?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"That stupid git Lockhart tried to fix him up," Aeryn grumbled, "but he only succeeded in deboning HarryÂ’s arm, so now heÂ’s off to the hospital wing, and he wants us to take him."

"Then letÂ’s go," said Ron. Hermione nodded in agreement.

They edged past Professor Snape, who still hadnÂ’t moved. Aeryn could feel his eyes burning into her back as they ran down onto the field.

"I donÂ’t get it," Ron said under his breath. "Snape looks like the perfect picture of health today. WhatÂ’s with that guy?"

"I donÂ’t know," Aeryn muttered back. ThatÂ’s exactly what bothers meÂ…She remained silent as she, Ron, and Hermione pushed HarryÂ’s stretcher out of the Quidditch stadium towards the hospital wing.

* * *

Late that night, Aeryn tossed restlessly in her sleep. SomeoneÂ…in HogwartsÂ…soft, hissing voiceÂ…unhumanÂ…crawling, slitheringÂ…the voice whispered in her mindÂ…not far awayÂ…

RipÂ…tearÂ…killÂ…ripÂ…tearÂ…killÂ…

HungerÂ…so longÂ…must be satisfiedÂ…

I smell bloodÂ…I smell bloodÂ…I SMELL BLOODÂ…

A bloodcurdling scream tore through AerynÂ’s mind, jerking her awake with a strangled gasp. She sat up, drenched in a cold sweat, and looked wildly about her dorm. All was quiet, save for the soft breathing of the other second year girls. Aeryn breathed deeply, slowly putting her trembling hands to her head as her heart thumped madly in her ears. The memory of the scream echoed in the recesses of her mind.

Every so often, when her guard was down, Aeryn could pick up stray mental projections, almost like a scanner picking up radio frequencies. It had only happened a handful of times before—the most memorable time being when she had caught the thoughts of a burglar trying to sneak into her next-door neighbor’s flat—she had alerted the police, and they caught the thief before he was able to even break a window. Aeryn hated reading thoughts, although it was sometimes hard not to do so, but her telepathy picked up bursts of pure emotion loud and clear, whether she liked it or not.

The cold, inhuman voice had been real, as had been the screamÂ…an agonized scream, raw and painfulÂ…and it sounded as if it had come from very close by. Aeryn closed her eyes and quested out through Gryffindor tower, down the stairsÂ…

Â…down the stairsÂ…something was thereÂ…

Aeryn flipped the covers off and silently crawled out of bed. She hesitantly cracked open the dorm door and hurried down to the common room. She jumped as the grandfather clock began to chime sonorously; once, twice, three times. After a moment, Aeryn started down the stairs, carefully questing out before her. She caught the faintest presence of someone, but the thoughts were muffled, as if they were wrapped in cotton.

As she quietly leapt over the invisible step, she saw a dark blotch on the stairs below her. She crept forward nervously, and gave a strangled gasp as she realized it was a student. Colin Creevey, the Gryffindor first year who always had a camera in his hand and adored Harry, was lying on his back, his eyes wide and his trusty camera clenched tightly in his fist. A bundle of grapes was scattered next to him on the floor. Aeryn didnÂ’t have to be a true wizard to see that the first year had been Petrified.

She slowly kneeled next to his immobile figure and put a hand on his forehead. "Colin?" she whispered, questing into his mind. There was the faintest ghost of a thoughtÂ…a fuzzy picture of a greenish blotch through a camera lens, a pair of bright, glowing eyesÂ…but nothing more. Aeryn bit her lip and pressed her fingers hard against his temples. The boyÂ’s glassy stare made her skin crawl. Maybe if she could reach him, somehow, she could break him out of this petrification.

*Colin*

She thought at him as hard as she could. *Colin, are you there*

There was the slightest stirring of his mind.

*Colin, this is Aeryn Blake. YouÂ’re lying on the stairs of Gryffindor tower, and I think youÂ’ve been Petrified. Can you tell me what just happened*

A fuzzy pair of glowing eyes drifted into her mindÂ’s eye.

*Colin, did someone attack you? Was that what you saw*

HarryÂ…he was trying to visit HarryÂ…down the stairsÂ…hissingÂ…turned around, looking through the cameraÂ…glowing eyesÂ…then nothing, nothing at all, staring up at the ceiling, unable to moveÂ…

*Okay, Colin, IÂ’m going to try and un-Petrify you, if thatÂ’s possibleÂ…just relax, this wonÂ’t hurt*

Aeryn clenched her teeth and quested further into the recesses of his mind. She wasnÂ’t sure exactly what she was trying to do; she had never done anything like this before. Swirls of fear and uncertainty wafted over her as she gently probed his mind. If only she could get a clear pictureÂ…but his brain seemed to have been Petrified as well as his body, and trying to get a bearing on his mind was like trying to hold water in a sieve. She almost had itÂ…if she could onlyÂ…

"Miss Blake! WhatÂ…are you doing?"

ColinÂ’s mind tore from her grasp as a harsh cry cut through the air. Aeryn pulled her hands away from his head and turned to the source of the sound. Her heart plummeted. Professor McGonagall was standing above her on the stairs in her nightgown, her black hair wild about her shoulders. She stared at Aeryn, then the Petrified Colin, then back at Aeryn, her eyes shocked and condemning.