Harry Potter and the Book of Shadows

The Protector

Even though he had gone to bed quite early the evening before, Harry found the sun, and everyone else in the room, had gotten up long before him. While there had been no nightmares, Harry's dreams had been strange and confusing, leaving him feeling less refreshed than the amount of sleep he'd gotten should have.

Thankful it was Saturday and he didn't have to force himself to stay awake during class, Harry yawned and made his way down to breakfast. It looked as though everyone was finished when he arrived, but Ginny poured herself another cup of tea and Ron helped himself to another scone, obviously willing to wait for Harry to eat.

"Katie said weekend practices start next week," Ginny said sipping her tea.

Relieved, Harry scooped a helping of eggs onto his plate. "So today's free, then?"

"We could still go out, you know," Ron said eagerly. They all knew he was dying to try out his new Firebolt.

A quick glance at the Hall's enchanted ceiling revealed a dreary grey sky with large, wet snowflakes falling, which put a quick end to that idea.

"Maybe tomorrow," Harry suggested.

Disappointed, Ron nodded. "Well, I finished most of my-" Shooting a glare at the not-so-subtle cough from Hermione, Ron finished, "Since I only have one essay left, if you want to have a game of Exploding Snap or something..."

Though what he really wanted to do was crawl back in bed for a day or two, Harry said, "We could look up more on binding spells."

Secretly thankful he hadn't suggested an Occlumency practice, Hermione agreed eagerly. "Oh, yes. We haven't done much on that lately."

"You want to come, Ginny?" Harry asked. "If you're not too busy, that is."

Thinking of the stack of studying she had to do, Ginny replied, "I'd love to."

Once they'd settled into the Room of Requirement, they each chose something and began reading. Though there were as daunting a number of books on binding and rejuvenation as last time, using the short list of what they knew about the Book of Shadows helped to narrow the search, albeit not by much. Harry, still only halfway through Myth or Fact, sat next to Ron one of the two cozy couches, though he wondered why the room had provided two smallish couches instead of one large one, or even four armchairs. Dismissing the notion, he opened the book to where he'd left off and continued to read carefully, hoping for any clue on how to either find the Book first or prevent Voldemort from finding it at all.

Hermione scribbled notes as she glanced between no less than five books at once. Ron drowsily skimmed several volumes on binding spells, not finding anything of immediate interest. Trying not to let herself think she really ought to be studying for her OWLS, Ginny skimmed more books than anyone, sorting them into stacks to be looked at more closely or discarded.

After an hour had passed, Harry looked up. He'd made a good bit of progress in his book, but felt no nearer to understanding why Voldemort was after the Book of Shadows or how to beat him to it. Feeling like he needed a break, Harry asked, "Anyone find anything yet?"

With a sigh Ginny set the volume in her hand on top of the discard pile. "I've sorted these into books about object binds and other possible Book of Shadows related things, and books that aren't what we're looking for."

Stretching, Ron said, "This one has some interesting things about object binds, but it's not exactly like what we think the Book and Guardian deal is."

"How so?" Hermione asked, pausing her note-taking in interest.

Sitting up, Ron flipped back a few pages. "Well, there's quite a bit on how to bind objects to other objects, I sort of skimmed that part, but also some stuff about runes and how to use binds as a sort of protection." At the looks of interest that statement had garnered, Ron went on, "Actually, I just got to a part that might mean something for the Book of Shadows. See, there are certain spells that use runes and blood to create a sort of impermanent bind between objects and people. It's not a soul-bind, like the Book has, which is why it's not permanent or very strong. From what I read, it sounds like you carve a certain rune into something and use your own blood to seal it. Then when the object is moved, you can feel it. This bit here has an example where someone blood-bound the trees around their house so whenever anyone walked between them, they knew. It's not permanent though, you have to reseal the runes pretty often."

"Like a security system," Harry said to himself. "That's interesting. I wonder if that's why the Book is written in blood."

"But you said it's written in Blood of the Betrayed," Hermione interjected. "I don't think every Guardian would qualify as having it so that they could write in the Book with their own blood. At least, it seems unlikely."

"Maybe they use their own just to do a seal on the outside?" Ginny proposed. Frowning she shook her head. "No, maybe not. If they soul-bound to it, they wouldn't have to. I don't know, it seems like that fits in somewhere, though."

"I'll add it to the list," Hermione said as her quill scratched across the parchment.

"Read us what we've got so far," Harry told Hermione.

Holding up the scroll of parchment, Hermione began, "Okay, we've got what we know about the Book itself and then what we know about the Guardian. So far, we know the Book is very old, bound in unicorn hide and written in the Blood of the Betrayed, which is presumably human. It contains spells about necromancy, binding, and rejuvenation, though we don't have specifics on what those spells are. The original Book was possibly written by vampires, though that's not for certain. We do know it was Guarded by vampires until the Clan Wars, when it was transferred to a Mortal line. Ron's bit just now suggests the outside of the book may have runes carved into it, or written on it, as well."

Pausing, Hermione looked up and, seeing everyone was holding back their comments waiting for her to continue, went on, "The Guardian apparently protects the Book and its contents from destruction and most likely adds to it as necessary. The Guardian was the most worthy male of the vampire Draguseni Clan until the Wars, when the responsibility was passed to a Mortal of unknown lineage. Somehow the Guardian, Mortal or otherwise, manages a permanent and non-lethal soul-bind to the Book. Again, adding in Ron's new bit, they probably have some kind of link to the Book to help keep it out of danger."

"It's not much," Ron said dispiritedly.

"Better than nothing," Ginny encouraged. Frowning slightly, she added, "I do wish we knew how much You-Know-Who has found out, though."

"Or what Dumbledore and the Order know," Ron sighed.

"Maybe there's a way to find out," Harry said slowly. Not meeting anyone's eyes, he added, "Snape might know something about Voldemort's plan..."

"No, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, knowing exactly what Harry was thinking. "No. That's just asking for trouble. Even if you did find something out, it could put you or him in serious danger!"

"Since when do we care if Snape is in danger?" Ron laughed.

Shooting him a dirty look, Hermione snapped, "Since he's in the Order and Dumbledore trusts him, that's when! Besides it's just as, if not more, risky for Harry to even try. It's not worth it."

"I think finding out what Voldemort knows is worth it!" Harry all but shouted. Trying to rein in his temper, Harry said more quietly, "Besides, how do we know he hasn't been looking for what the Order knows or anything else to help Voldemort all along?"

"Harry, it's too dangerous!" Hermione insisted.

Keeping his anger in check, Harry scowled. "He's had free rein to mess through my memories all this time. I don't see why I can't do the same. Especially not when we might find out something important!"

When he looked to Ginny for support, she looked conflicted. "You might...but..." Avoiding his gaze, her voice dropped, "Even if you tried, do you think you could find anything? It's just... you've been practicing blocking, not searching."

Even though he knew she didn't mean it that way, her words stung. Dropping the idea for the moment Harry said, "Dumbledore said there were ways to find out who the Guardian was. Why haven't we come across anything like that yet?"

His question was met with shrugs. Feeling thwarted, Harry slumped back and stared at the back cover of Myth or Fact. Again, the small picture of the author nagged at him. Annoyed and frustrated, Harry tossed the book on top of Hermione's notes. Stamping down her irritation, Hermione picked it up, intending to put it with her bag so Harry didn't forget it when they left. The small moving picture caught her eye.

"Von Hayden..." she murmured to herself.

"What's that, Hermione?" Ron asked.

Putting the book down she replied, "Oh, nothing. I just thought the author's picture looked like someone, but the last name is different."

"Like who?" Harry asked, sitting up. "I thought so too, but I don't know who I think he looks like."

"Oh, well... he looks a great deal like Professor Dunn, but-" Hermione said hesitantly.

Grabbing the book, Ron squinted at the small image. "Yeah, kinda."

Looking over his shoulder Ginny, nodded. "It does sort of look like him. Maybe they're related."

"Von Hayden and Dunn?" Ron asked skeptically.

"People do get married, Ron," Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes.

Hermione looked pensive. "You don't think they might be, do you?"

Suddenly inspired, Harry had an idea. "Even if they're not, Dunn still might know something about the Book of Shadows. He is a Dark Arts teacher."

"How do we even bring it up?" Ginny asked. "Wouldn't it seem odd if we just walked up one day after class and asked about it?"

Hermione frowned. "That and what if he is spying for the Ministry?" Giving them all a stern look, she added, "I'm still not convinced the Ministry didn't have something to do with his hiring."

"You really think Fudge would have let us play Dorm Assassin?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Anyway," Hermione said pointedly, "Ginny's right. We need a reason to be asking."

"You could ask," Ron said. "No one would be surprised you came across it while reading one of those moldy old spell books."

Biting back the acid reply she wanted to shoot at him, Hermione merely said, "Maybe, but that excuse is getting a bit worn."

"I could ask," Ginny volunteered. "I mean, with all this OWL stuff, it's not that much of a stretch that I might have read something about it. And I can say I wanted something that might get me extra credit on the exam."

"That's not a bad idea," Hermione mused. "I'd kind of like to be there to hear what he has to say, though."

Harry tried not to snicker when Ron muttered, "Big surprise."

Thinking for a moment, Ginny's face suddenly lit up. "I've got it! I'll say you were helping me study and we came across it in a reference. That way, Professor Dunn wouldn't be surprised if you wanted to know more, too. The Book of Shadows certainly doesn't sound dull."

When her suggestion was met with enthusiasm, Ginny agreed to ask Dunn about it after her next class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Knowing Ginny's first Defense Against the Dark Arts class was Monday afternoon made the rest of the weekend pass painfully slowly. Even as they made their way to the classroom they'd been using for Care of Magical Creatures on Monday morning, Harry and the others wished time would speed up. Hoping the class would help pass the time, they sat in their usual places. Since their last few classes had been mostly equations and research, Harry didn't hold much hope he'd be able to keep his mind off the Book.

Hagrid lumbered into the room, holding a small brown box Harry thought looked vaguely familiar. Curious, a hush fell over the students. A few whispers punctuated the silence, mostly the usual musings if the little box held a big problem.

"All righ'," Hagrid began, though Malfoy and his cronies were still whispering and snickering in the back corner. "We've been doin' quite a bit of book learnin', so I thought something a little more hands-on migh' be a good change."

While the class was tired of complex diagnoses and medical prescriptions, they weren't quite sure if returning to Hagrid's idea of a hands-on class was a better alternative.

Seeing he had most of the class' attention, Hagrid held up the little box. "Righ', so this is summat we'll be lookin' at closer to spring, but in order to prepare fer that, we need to make a nice place fer it to grow."

Apprehensive now, the class exchanged uneasy looks. With a flourish, Hagrid opened the box to reveal-

"An egg?" Malfoy scoffed. "What are we doing next, then? Chickens?"

Unperturbed, Hagrid gently extracted the egg from its nest of hay and cradled it gently in his large hand. "This here's a jobberknoll egg." He walked among the tables, giving each set of students a good look at the delicate butter-yellow egg. "Now, it's been in hibernation since the fall when it arrived, but after we make a nice safe place fer it to stay, it'll hatch come spring."

Neville raised his hand, a rarity in any class he shared with the Slytherins. "What'll happen to it after it hatches?"

"It'll turn into a bird," Malfoy mocked, causing many of the Slytherins to laugh with him.

Ignoring him completely, Hagrid turned to Neville. "After we've watched it grow a bit, like we did with Noir, we'll send it back to where it came from. It'll live a long and happy life back on the ranch with his own kind." Turing to the rest of the class, Hagrid added, "But firs' we need to make a nice little warm spot fer it to rest and a safe cage fer it to live in until we send it home."

Handing out packets of parchment, Hagrid assigned groups of four students to different activities. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville found themselves in charge of constructing and charming the cage the hatched jobberknoll would live in.

As the students read their instructions, Hagrid explained the reasoning behind the very specific attributes of the habitat, "Now jobberknoll feathers, as you know," he paused and looked pointedly at Malfoy, "are used in Veritaserum and some Memory Potions. One jobberknoll naturally sheds enough feathers to make about two potions a month. On large farms like the one our little fella came from, they have thousands of birds and collect enough feathers to sell for a reasonable profit. Now, who knows what happens when a jobberknoll dies?"

Not surprisingly, Hermione's hand shot up, but so did a number of other students'. Hagrid pointed to Dean, who answered, "They scream out every sound they've ever heard in reverse."

"Tha's righ'!" Hagrid exclaimed happily. "The little birds never make a peep until the moment they die. Now, in the wild, their quietness helps 'em hide and stay out of the way of predators. The reverse-noise serves as a sort of warning to the rest of the flock that summat bad is on the hunt, so if one dies, the others at leas' will be able to get away. On farms and such where there are no predators, the people who work with 'em try to keep their environment as quiet as possible, so when they do die, they don' upset the others."

"So that's why there's a Silencing Charm on all of this," Hermione murmured as she reread the directions for making the birdcage.

The rest of the class was spent charming the various parts of the cage and incubator with Silencing and Warming Charms and arranging the interior with branches and hay for when the egg finally hatched.

When the complex habitat was complete, Hagrid beamed at the class. "That'll be a righ' nice place fer our little bird to live. Good job."

After assigning them a short essay on jobberknoll hatching requirements, Hagrid dismissed the class.

To the trio's surprise Ginny was waiting for them just outside the classroom door.

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed. "I thought you had Transfiguration first."

"I did, but McGonagall's classroom isn't that far from Dunn's." Glancing around, Ginny saw Malfoy watching them with interest. Drawing Harry away, she lowered her voice. "Right after class I ran to see Professor Dunn. He seemed impressed when I mentioned the Book. I only had a few minutes to talk, but Von Hayden was his grandfather. Turns out he was a pretty well-known Book historian and Dunn got interested Book lore from talking with him."

She nodded at the trio's enthusiastic replies. "Yeah. So, he's thrilled we... I that is, came across stuff about the Book and wanted to know more. If you guys can make it," her look was directed at Ron and Hermione, who had prefect meetings to coordinate with, "he said we could meet Wednesday night and talk about it."

"That sounds perfect!" Harry said excitedly. "Great job, Gin! Thanks!"

Smiling widely, Ginny hurried off to her next class, leaving the trio hopeful their quest to find the Book was one step closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though time still seemed to be creeping along at a streeler's pace, Harry found himself looking forward to Transfiguration the next day. Though ideally, he would have liked to just skip over classes Tuesday and Wednesday so they could find out more about the Book of Shadows, Harry had to admit the idea of non-verbal spells had him intrigued.

McGonagall pinned the class with her steely-eyed gaze as soon as everyone had sat. "Today, you will begin the true test of magic." With a flick of her wand, a few spare quills on her desk transformed into a beautiful male peacock. Ignoring the class' 'ooo's, she continued, "You will have noticed I did not use a verbal incantation. Mr. Weasley," she stopped directly in front of Ron's desk, "this bird requires a cage."

Looking a bit overwhelmed, Ron cleared his throat and pointed his wand at the ruler set at the front of his desk. "Ahem, um..."

"You are not to say the spell aloud," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "We are practicing non-verbal spell work from now on. I do not want to hear a peep out of any of you."

Looking dubious, Ron pointed his wand at the ruler again. Screwing up all his concentration, he flicked his wand, and much to his evident surprise, produced a beautifully ornate birdcage.

Harry beamed back at Ron, and even Hermione gave him an encouraging smile. Professor McGonagall picked up the cage and looked directly at Ron, who shrank back under her disapproving stare. "Would you like to convince the peacock that he will, indeed, fit inside here?"

Harry tried not to snicker when he too, realized that while the cage was quite beautiful, it was much more suited to a parakeet than a peacock.

"She just said 'birdcage'," Ron muttered. "Thought she'd be happy I managed it at all."

"I will be happy when you manage the level of work I know you are capable of, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall handed him another ruler and strode toward the front of the room. "Continue, class."

Hermione, trying to judge the length of the peacock's tail as it strutted across the far end of the classroom, tried to be encouraging. "Well, at least she thinks you can do better."

The less-than-thrilled look Ron shot her told Hermione her comment hadn't quite come off the way she'd meant. Knowing she would only make it worse by saying something else, she concentrated on making a large, but not nearly as ornate, birdcage instead.

Harry, not wanting to get involved, concentrated on transfiguring his ruler by just saying the spell mentally. He knew he could easily say the spell out loud and with a flick of his wand, transfigure a perfectly acceptable birdcage. For some reason, the fact he wasn't allowed to say the spell somehow made the simple act almost impossible. Shouldn't he be good at just thinking spells and making them work? Shouldn't all his practice with Occlumency be helping? Staring at his ruler in frustration, Harry resisted the urge to pitch it across the room when Neville produced a lovely wooden cage, quite large enough to hold the still-loose peacock, without saying a word.

By the end of the class, Harry still hadn't been able to do it, only one of two students who couldn't. The sympathetic and worried looks Ron and Hermione were giving him only made Harry feel worse, as did McGonagall calling him up to her desk as the other students exited. Seeing the other student had merely been given extra homework and sent off, Harry had to assume McGonagall was about to give him a concerned lecture on his mental well-being.

"Mr. Potter," she began, folding her hands and looking him directly in the eye, "I expected you to be able to handle the level of coursework in my Advanced Transfiguration class." Not allowing him to defend himself or point out at least one other student hadn't managed the cage, McGonagall continued, "I can only assume your lack of progress today is due to outside influences."

Clamping down the angry tirade he wanted to yell at her, Harry tried not to focus on Professor McGonagall's subtle-yet-direct insinuation he needed some kind of help. "I'm fine, Professor."

Frowning, McGonagall tried not to let the fact some of the other staff members were obviously having issues color her concern for Harry's well-being. While Severus had always been hard on the boy, she didn't think he would ever intentionally harm him. Though they all, except Dumbledore, still harbored varying levels of suspicion, she had always trusted in the Headmaster's confidence and honestly believed the Potions Master was no longer on Voldemort's side. That wasn't to say she didn't think he still had to play the part now and again, but that was why she couldn't ask Harry if Snape had done something outright. Her, and several others', concern lay more in the thought perhaps Snape was unwittingly doing damage during Potter's extra lessons. Or perhaps, was less concerned with the side effects of learning such a difficult and dangerous form of magic than he ought to be.

Knowing there was nothing she could do to force Harry to confide in her, she sighed and hoped Weasley or Granger would be able to help him. Feeling frustrated and ineffectual, McGonagall assigned Harry an additional reading assignment in the hopes the chapter would help him focus his energies.

There was a brief, awkward pause as Harry joined Ron and Hermione in the hallway. Ron, trying to sound casual, asked, "What'd she want?"

"Same thing as you- to ask me if I think I'm slowly losing my mind," Harry spat as he stalked off.

Exchanging a glance, Ron and Hermione followed slowly, allowing a large gap to form between them and Harry as they made their way down to the Hall for lunch.

The atmosphere surrounding the trio was uncomfortably tense as they assembled sandwiches from the large trays of assorted ingredients. Noticing Harry was more interested in aggressively slathering mustard on his roll than actually making an edible meal, Ginny merely raised an eyebrow at Hermione as she joined them.

Daintily selecting an olive from the garnish of the cheese tray, Ginny said, "Don't forget our meeting with Professor Dunn is tomorrow."

"You really think we'd forget something like that?" Harry snipped at her.

A look of insulted disbelief crossed Ginny's face. Without another word, she grabbed the strap of her bag, stood up, and strode haughtily further down the table. Julian, animatedly chatting with the brown-haired boy Harry had seen him with before, paused to greet Ginny enthusiastically. The other boy waved for her to sit next to him. Laughing at something he said, Ginny dropped her bag and joined them.

Harry glared at them for a long moment then threw his mangled roll on his plate in disgust. Ron and Hermione wisely ate in silence, thinking Harry had been quite put in his place already. Though the signal for their next class brought a welcome end to the awkward meal, Hermione worried Harry might make matters worse for himself in double Potions if he couldn't control his temper. Chewing her lip anxiously, she followed Ron and Harry down to the dungeons.

Still feeling irritated and ill-used, Harry sullenly plopped into his usual seat in the rear of Snape's classroom. It was the last place he wanted to be on a good day. Hoping Snape wasn't in too foul a mood or at least, was distracted enough to ignore the students, Ron sat next to him. Both Hermione and Ron involuntarily tensed when Snape strode in, immediately locking eyes with Harry.

The whole room was eerily silent, somehow even Malfoy knew something was wrong and the tiniest sound would unleash Snape's full fury. Narrowing his eyes at Harry, Snape whipped his wand toward the board behind him and their assignment appeared in bright gold letters. Still glaring at the back of the room, he sat behind his desk without a word.

Cautiously, students stood and gathered the necessary ingredients, trying to make as little noise as possible. Ron stood as soon as Hermione did and walked with her to the student cupboard, keeping himself between her and Snape's angry glare. It was unnecessary, as Snape never stopped staring at Harry. Seeing Harry wasn't about to get up, Ron took enough ingredients for both of them.

Everyone set to work, concentrating on making Befuddlement Draught. They had studied the ingredients and effects the year previous, but this was first time they had actually been assigned to make the complicated potion. Ron was especially determined not to ruin his concoction, though seeing Harry still hadn't moved an inch was a bit distracting. Surreptitiously shooting a glance over her shoulder, Hermione caught Harry's intent gaze at the front of the room and threw a confused look at Ron. Looking between Harry and Snape, Ron could only frown and shrug.

Everyone worked silently and precisely. Even Ron, concentrating intently on his cauldron, felt he might actually produce a proper potion. Though she worked as diligently as ever, Hermione couldn't help but throw occasional furtive looks over her shoulder at Harry.

The ingredients Ron had brought him sat in a pile, untouched. The fire under his cauldron heated an empty pot, the flame slowly dying as it consumed the tinder. Harry hadn't moved since Snape had caught his eye at the beginning of the lesson. Some of the students had noticed Snape's hateful glare hadn't changed since he'd sat, but since it wasn't directed at them, no one seemed overly concerned.

Eye contact is harder at this distance, Harry thought, but he's still trying. What does Voldemort want to know so badly Snape would try to find out during a regular class? What does he think I know?

Even with the added distance and the fact Snape couldn't attack with as much strength in front of the whole class, Harry was struggling to push him out of memory after memory. Though he wanted to end it, a part of him wanted to know what Snape was looking for. Instead of forcing him out fully, Harry tried to remember the most basic bits of each of the memories Snape found, in the hopes of finding a common theme later.

It was only when the first student placed a small vial of Befuddlement Draught on his desk that Snape finally gave up. Hearing Harry's exhausted sigh, Ron stoppered his sample, for once indistinguishable from Hermione's.

"You all right, mate?" he asked quietly.

Feeling as though he'd run for miles, Harry blinked a few times. "Yeah...what are we making today?"

Returning from adding her and Ron's potions to the rest on Snape's desk, Hermione frowned worriedly. "Harry, class is over." She'd cleaned up his unused ingredients when she tidied up her own bench.

"Over?" Harry repeated blankly.

"Let's just go." Ron urged Harry up. With Snape busy organizing the class' results, he figured it was a good time to make their escape unnoticed.

"But I didn't-" Harry allowed Ron to steer him out of the room.

Making sure they had all their books and things, Hermione muttered, "Too late for that now."

Once back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry cut off his friends' questions. "Why didn't you jab me or something? I just spent an entire double Potions making nothing!"

"Um, well," Hermione stuttered. She didn't want to admit they'd been afraid Snape would do something horrible if they said anything at all. "What happened?"

"Whatever Voldemort wants to know, he wants to know it pretty badly," Harry said, ignoring his annoyance neither of his friends had poked him into action during class. "Snape just spent that whole lesson trolling through my memories."

"In front of a class?" Hermione exclaimed, stunned.

Shrugging, Ron said, "Well, to be honest, it's not like we knew what was going on. I think everyone thought they were both waiting for the other to blink first."

"Harry, what did he see?" Hermione asked.

Shaking his head, Harry breathed out. "Lots of things. I still don't know what he thinks he can find." Feeling anxious, exhausted, and claustrophobic, Harry said, "I'm going for a walk."

"I-" at Ron's expression Hermione stopped. "Oh, well... Be careful."

Going back through the portrait hole, Harry knew he ought to find somewhere quiet and try to sift through all the memories Snape had plowed through to try and find a connection. Instead, he wandered down the long corridors, wishing he could escape his own mind for just a little bit. Responsibility and worry felt like a crushing weight and he desperately needed a respite.

Not surprisingly, he found himself in front of the Room of Requirement. Pacing, he couldn't calm his thoughts beyond thinking he needed a temporary escape. Needed to be somewhere and someone else for just a little while. Mildly surprised to see the door appear, Harry turned the knob, his hopes lifting.

The room was nothing like he expected. In all his previous visits, it had always been a variation of the cozy, fire-lit space not unlike the rest of Hogwarts. Comfy couches and chairs- bookshelves- none of it was to be found. Instead, the room was flooded with warm, natural light, something Harry was surprised to see since the sun had been setting as they'd left the dungeons. The walls were painted a light grayish-blue instead of the usual dark paneling and stone he was accustomed to. On his right, gauzy white curtains billowed in a warm breeze, surrounding a set of French doors that led out to a balcony, below which the soft crash of surf could be heard.

If he didn't know better, Harry would have thought the doorknob had been a Portkey to a tropical island somewhere. The room was bright and warm and completely unlike anything at Hogwarts. Wondering how far the illusion went, Harry stepped out onto the terrace.

Somehow he knew the stretch of rocky shore below was no more real than the sky depicted in the ceiling in the Great Hall. Still, the sun felt warm and the comfortable-looking chaise set to the side of the doors called to him. Sinking onto the cool, silky fabric, Harry noticed a book lying on the small table next to the chair. Picking it up, he saw it appeared to be a short novel. Skimming the back summary, Harry smiled. A Muggle book, it sounded exciting and adventurous, but completely separate from the world he'd come to love.

Feeling some of his tension melt, Harry settled back to read.

Some hours later, Harry realized he must have missed dinner, and had probably roused the concern of his friends as well. Sorry he had only made it halfway through the book, he set it back on the small table. Hoping he would have the chance to come back to his retreat and finish the novel, Harry left the Room of Requirement. The gurgle of his empty stomach made him detour toward the painting of fruit that concealed the entrance to the kitchens instead of heading directly back to Gryffindor to assure his friends he was fine.

Tickling the pear and causing the painting to swing wide and allow him entrance to the kitchens, Harry entered cautiously. It was easy to frighten the house-elves and he didn't want to disturb them overmuch. A female house-elf noticed him and quickly scurried up.

"Can we help you, sir?" she curtsied and stared at the floor.

As usual, Harry felt a bit awkward at their diffident manner. "Um, I sort of missed dinner..."

Bobbing curtsies, the house elf said, "Of course, sir! What would sir like? There was chicken and potatoes and green beans and rolls and chocolate cakes..."

"That sounds fine," Harry said, blinking as she continued to rattle off the extensive menu. "What was your name?"

"I is Tween, sir." She glanced over her shoulder to where several house-elves were scuttling around making Harry a plate of food. "Does sir want to eat in the Hall?"

"Oh, um..." Harry hadn't thought of where he'd have his late meal, but sitting alone in the cavernous Great Hall didn't sound like it would be much fun.

Recognizing Winky as one of the house-elves arranging leftovers on a plate and re-heating them, he saw she seemed to be much improved since the last time he'd seen her. Her yellow dress was clean and pressed and even her expression seemed less desolate. If nothing else, the fact she wasn't drunk from butterbeer spoke volumes about her adjustment to freedom and employment at Hogwarts. Suddenly, Harry realized he was in the presence of those who would have the best advice on how to handle Kreacher.

"I'll have it here, if you don't mind."

Though she looked at him oddly at the request, Tween continued to bob and curtsy. "Of course, sir. We will makes sir a place."

There was a bit of shuffling and clinking of cutlery and dishes as Harry's plate, piled high with food, was set on the long table Harry knew was directly under the Ravenclaw table in the Great Hall.

"How is Winky?" Harry asked Tween, before she could scurry away.

Taken aback, Tween blinked a few times before she could reply. "Winky, sir?"

"Yeah," Harry said, taking a bite of roast chicken. "I know she was missing her last family when Dobby first brought her here. She was drinking a lot of-"

"She is not allowed that anymore, sir," Tween interrupted emphatically. "The Missus doesn't allows us to have butterbeer. Winky is working like a good house-elf now, sir."

She seemed intent on making sure Harry knew none of them were doing anything wrong. Curious, and feeling a bit responsible for Winky and Dobby, Harry asked, "How are they? I know Dobby can't talk to me anymore," he wished he could find out why, "but are they all right? Happy?"

Tween's eyes widened and she nodded vigorously. "Oh, yes, sir. We is all very happy since the Missus came. She is very good to us."

"Even Winky?" Harry prompted. If Persephone had somehow managed to get Winky to accept her new lot, perhaps he could figure out how best to deal with Kreacher.

"Very much, sir." Tween continued to bob and nod, giving her an odd sort of spastic appearance. "The Missus is very strict with Winky. Winky must perform her duties properly before she is allowed any personal times."

"Personal times?" Harry repeated, not understanding.

A blush crept over Tween's face. "House-elves is allowed only certain times for eating and bathing and such, sir."

Surprised at the stringency she seemed to be implying, Harry asked, "You mean Persephone won't let you eat or even..." Harry dropped his voice, "go to the bathroom or anything without finishing your work first?" It seemed awfully harsh to him.

Shaking her head, Tween rushed to defend the Assistant Caretaker. "Oh, no! It's not like sir thinks, sir! Most of us is allowed very much," Tween glanced around cautiously and whispered, "freedoms, sir." Looking scandalized she'd even uttered the word, the little house-elf continued, "Most of us is allowed to eat and things as we like, sir."

"But not Winky?" Harry was confused.

Looking as if she wanted to explain but wasn't sure how, Tween said, "Winky is very much happier since Missus Persephone makes her work very hard." Her eyes pleading for him to understand, she looked up at Harry.

Though it seemed awful to him, knowing what he did of house-elves, Harry began to understand. Obviously firmness and strictness were what some house-elves needed in order to feel comfortable and safe. Persephone had obviously seen coddling had only made Winky feel even more useless and uncomfortable at Hogwarts. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Winky happily scrubbing a large pot and wondered how he could apply this information to Kreacher.

Above Winky, numerous shining copper kettles reflected the few house-elves left tidying the last of the dinner dishes and preparing some of the morning's ingredients. In the reflection of one of the larger bowls, Harry caught sight of a very familiar face. Trying not to let any of the house elves know he'd seen Dobby watching his conversation with Tween, he inquired, "How is Dobby?"

"Dobby is... fine, sir," Tween said hesitantly.

Harry knew she couldn't lie to him, but given her posture and tone, he knew she was holding something back. Hoping his chat with her had inspired confidence, Harry pressed a bit, "Is something wrong with him?"

"Not wrong, sir," Tween looked down. "Dobby is just... sad sometimes."

"Sad?" Harry asked, sneaking a glance at Dobby's poignant expression reflected in the kettle.

"Tween knows Dobby misses sir, sir," Tween said quietly. "Dobby has told us many a time how sir was brave and wonderful and saved Dobby from a bad place with cruel masters not like Missus Persephone. We knows we is very lucky, sir."

"You don't know why Dobby isn't allowed to talk to me anymore, do you?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, sir," Tween replied hastily. "We was not told. Only Dobby knows."

"Oh," Harry said, disappointed. Pulling his plate of chocolate cake closer, he figured he wasn't going to make any progress on that front by talking to the other house-elves. In the meantime, Harry thought he ought to work a bit more on his own house-elf problem. "I was wondering..."

"Yes, sir?" Tween blinked her large, round eyes.

"I sort of... inherited a house-elf," Harry began. When Tween didn't immediately shrink away and Dobby's reflection perked up a bit, he continued, "He's, um, well, he's rather old and much like Winky, misses his former family quite a bit." Couching it in those terms, Harry tried not to scare Tween while at the same time, not gloss over Kreacher's problems too much. "He seems to hate me and twists any orders I give him."

"Hates is a very strong word, sir," Tween said solemnly. Still, she nodded. "Yes, we has heard that in some families, when new Masters or Misses come, the old house-elves don't works as they should."

"Do you have any suggestions?" Finishing his cake, Harry looked to the little house-elf hopefully.

After a moment of obvious careful thought, Tween looked back at him unhappily. "Tween does not know what to do, sir. I is sorry!"

Disappointed, Harry tried to reassure her, "Don't worry about it. I'll figure something out." He saw Dobby's drooped ears in the kettle's reflection and sighed.

Shooting a quick glance over Harry's shoulder, Tween's own bat-like ears perked a bit. "Tween will ask all the other house-elves, sir! Maybe one of them will know."

Though he knew she had seen Dobby behind him, Harry allowed himself to hope that perhaps one of the other hundreds of house-elves at Hogwarts would have some idea of how to deal with the disgruntled Kreacher. "Thank you very much, Tween. I really appreciate it." Seeing her flustered curtsy, Harry added, "And thanks for talking with me. Tell Dobby I said hello."

"Of course, sir!" Tween curtsied and bobbed so vigorously she almost fell over. "Tween understands now that Dobby was right when he said sir was the best wizard of them all! Tween will tell Dobby right away. Dobby will be glad to know sir still thinks of him even after he was punished."

Uncomfortable at her adulation, Harry smiled weakly. Dobby's reflection fled as Harry turned and made his way out of the kitchens, not sure if he'd really learned anything useful at all.

Once back in the common room, Harry was surprised Hermione and Ron weren't perched on the couch as he expected, waiting to question him. Spying Ginny surrounded by her ubiquitous books and notes, he tried to forget her cool dismissal at lunch and sat across from her. Somehow, he knew asking about Ron and Hermione's whereabouts straightaway would only irritate her. Harry hoped she hadn't immediately greeted him because she was absorbed in her work, but somehow, he knew that wasn't quite it.

Admitting to himself he had been rather boorish earlier, Harry began with, "I'm sorry I snapped at you before."

Ginny's quill paused in its flight across the parchment. By her guarded expression, he could see she hadn't quite expected him to apologize. Though she still looked a bit peeved, Harry was relieved when she said, "It's okay."

"How's the studying going?" he asked.

Sighing, Ginny glanced over her stacks mournfully. "I'll be glad when it's over."

"You'll do fine," Harry encouraged. "Then you'll just have to worry about NEWTs!"

Allowing herself to laugh, Ginny smiled. "I think Ron is upstairs."

"Oh," Harry replied. "Okay. I guess I'll leave to your OWLs, then."

Bidding him goodnight, Ginny turned back to her plethora of notes. Thinking that had gone rather well, Harry made his way to the sixth year's dormitory. Obvious relief flooded Ron's face as Harry walked into the room. Harry was about to explain where he'd been when he noticed Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the end of Ron's bed, facing away from the door.

Turning at Ron's recognition, she smiled with relief to see Harry. "Oh thank goodness! We were getting worried."

"I thought we couldn't go to each other's rooms," Harry said, confused.

"Oh, that," Hermione blushed inexplicably. "It's just boys can't go to the girls' rooms. Girls can come up here."

"Obviously," Harry said faintly.

"It's kind of silly to do it that way, I know," Hermione added quickly.

"We thought we'd wait together for you to come back," Ron said hastily.

Raising an eyebrow, Harry wondered aloud, "What about the common room?"

"Well, the fifth and seventh years claimed most of the tables and chairs for studying..." Hermione tried to explain.

Smirking to himself, Harry moved a stack of notes and sat on Ron's bed. "Yeah. Ginny was down there."

"Oh." Hermione tried not to look too interested in hearing more about it. Ron did a less impressive job.

Harry humored neither of them. "I took a break in the Room of Requirement for a while then went to the kitchens to get something to eat. I talked to one of the house-elves about what to do with Kreacher."

"Did they have any good ideas?' Hermione wanted to know.

"Not really," Harry replied. "She said she'd ask the others, though. But I did find out Persephone got Winky straightened out. Once she put her foot down about butterbeer and getting her work done, I guess Winky stopped pining for Mr. Crouch. I guess she needs a strict master to make her happy."

Hermione frowned, but Ron seemed to understand. "Yeah, it's weird, but I get the feeling they like to be told what to do."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "She looked happy."

"That's good," Hermione admitted.

Noting the absence of books or parchments, save the small stack of notes he'd moved, Harry wondered what his friends had been up to, if not studying or homework. "So what have you been doing?"

Ron flushed. "Mione showed me this Muggle card game..."

Looking smug, Hermione smiled. "Ron's just mad because now I have a game I can beat him at."

"Beat me? We haven't even finished yet! There's no strategy! It's just luck!" Ron defended himself heatedly.

"What's the game?" Harry asked,

Still smiling, Hermione replied, "War. And it's much more fun with the Exploding Snap deck."

Harry grinned back. "Dudley hated it when I beat him. Or really just the one time I did."

"You mean you can actually finish this game?" Ron looked stunned. He and Hermione had been playing the same game for hours. Even when the cards occasionally exploded, eliminating various amounts of the deck, the game seemed never-ending.

Picking up the cards, Hermione managed to organize them back into a neat stack. "Sometimes it takes a while to win, but you can. Let's play three ways. Losers buy the next round of butterbeers in Hogsmeade."

Laughter filled the room as Harry and Hermione lost spectacularly, albeit extremely slowly, to Ron.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Defense Against the Darks Arts the next morning was almost unbearable. It wasn't the lesson; Harry and the rest of the class continued to enjoy creating and playing with their Elementals. It was the fact Professor Dunn obviously had some knowledge of the Book of Shadows and they would have to wait until after dinner to find out what he knew.

At the beginning of class Dunn had instructed the class to create the Elemental opposite the one they had created the last class. Though he'd hoped it would take some concentration, and therefore take his mind off the Book. However, Harry found that while not nearly as easy as conjuring his dirt-worm, the whirling Air Elemental appeared after only a few minutes of trying. Like Hermione, Harry scattered various lightweight bits for it to pick up and shift around into patterns. The relative ease of this class raised questions in his mind as to why nonverbal spells in Transfiguration continued to elude him.

He'd done the extra reading McGonagall had assigned and tried to conjure the cage again, to no avail. Hermione had reassured him it was almost certainly because he was trying too hard, but Harry couldn't help but think something was blocking him. Pushing his concerns aside, he concentrated on his Air Elemental. At the end of class, he was a bit sad once again to see his Elemental go. Still, Harry couldn't help but think they were just that much closer to finding out something about the Book.

The rest of the day passed painfully slowly, but as Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione left the Great Hall after dinner, they couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. Arriving at the Dark Arts classroom, they moved past the empty desks toward Dunn's office.

As he knocked on the door, Harry wondered what the interior would look like. Thinking back, he remembered the various incarnations the room had been in the past: Lockhart's version had been plastered with grinning pictures of himself. Lupin had filled the room with various Dark creatures and volumes of books. Moody (though not the actual Moody)'s office had been full of Dark Detectors. And of course, Umbridge had covered the walls in her horrid big-eyed kitten pictures and various frilly bits.

When Dunn bid them enter, they excitedly stepped into his office. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, and perhaps the eagerness he'd felt at the prospect of finding out more about the Book of Shadows had colored his expectations somewhat. Still, Harry sensed his friends were equally as disappointed in the nondescript nature of the room. Of course, the room itself was the same as it always had been, but Dunn had done almost nothing to make it his own space. There were no pictures of any sort on the walls save for one tattered-looking map. His desk wasn't neat by any standard, but the haphazard piles of parchments and student assignments could have belonged to any teacher. There were no personal effects anywhere: no photos, no well-loved volumes of Dark Arts lore, nothing save the bare walls and a dustbin full of crumpled bits of parchment and a broken quill.

"Miss Weasley!" Dunn greeted her with a wide smile. "And Harry, Hermione, and Ron! How wonderful you came as well!"

Hesitantly, they smiled back. Would Dunn try to find out why they really wanted to know more about the mysterious Book of Shadows? Hermione's quickly repressed look of suspicion made Harry wonder if Dunn really was a spy for the Ministry.

Indicating for them to sit in the various mismatched chairs and one low bench pulled closer to his desk from its usual spot by the wall, Dunn settled back in his chair and regarded them. "So Miss Weasley told me she had run across a reference to the legendary Book of Shadows during her OWL studying."

Ginny nodded vigorously. Harry and Ron mimicked her, trying not to act overly eager or suspicious.

Hesitantly, Hermione said, "It sounded.... Well, rather fascinating, really. I did try to look it up in the library, but-"

"But there wasn't much to find," Dunn finished for her. Smiling, Dunn shook his head. "Ah, yes. Such a captivating subject, and yet so little is known!"

Impressed by Hermione's subtle hint they had explored the subject a bit on their own- thereby removing any suspicion should they seem to know more than they ought- Harry added, "There was one book, The Book of Shadows: Myth or Fact-"

"Splendid!" Dunn exclaimed. "Did you read much of it?" Not waiting for a reply, Dunn stood up and began to pace excitedly. "My grandfather wrote that! Of course, Miss Weasley knew that as I mentioned it to her... A great Book historian, my grandfather was. That's where I learned of it, you see. In fact, it was when he was researching for that book that I came across his notes and joined in the search."

"You actually tried to find the Book?" Ginny exclaimed.

Laughing, Dunn said, "Oh, no! Not a search for the Book, the search for the truth!"

"The truth?" Ron repeated.

Sitting back down, Dunn leaned toward them in a conspiratorial manner. "You've obviously dug a bit on your own. Haven't you noticed the great mystery surrounding the Book?"

"You mean the Guardian who protects it? Who they are? Or what's in the Book?" Hermione guessed.

"That, yes," Dunn agreed, "but the true mystery of the Book is not what it contains, but what it has created."

Seeing Ginny and the others looked completely lost, Dunn said almost to himself, "Would that I could teach a class solely about the Book of Shadows...." Shaking his head he focused. "If you've done any exploration into the subject, you'll be sure to come across the vast differences in opinion on the reality of the nature of the Book. That is, if you believe it exists at all."

"There did seem to be some dissent," Hermione agreed. "Do you think it exists, Professor?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Dunn said with absolute certainty. "Now, there are hundreds of theories on the contents of the Book and such, but universally, the Book historians agree there is one individual- the Guardian, as Miss Granger mentioned- who protects the Book. The nature of this protection is of particular interest."

"The soul-bind," Harry said, without thinking.

Dunn looked impressed. "You have been doing your research! Yes, it is the only known non-lethal living soul to inanimate object bind, and as such, the foundation for those who argue against the Book's existence. How can it be possible for a living soul to exchange a piece of itself with a pile of parchment and ink, no matter the magical properties of such? You can see why so many choose to believe the whole thing is a hoax."

"But you don't think so," Ginny stated.

"Goodness, no!" Dunn dropped his voice, "My grandfather came across something that proves the Book's existence and that gave me the clues I needed to uncover the truth!"

"So why haven't you written anything about it?" Ron blurted. Hermione and Ginny shot him a dirty look in tandem.

A regretful expression settled across Dunn's face. "Unfortunately, Book historians, for all their arguing, are a tight-knit bunch. My grandfather was respected among them, but at the time, I was considered too young and too inexperienced for my ideas to warrant any consideration. I pleaded with my grandfather to take my evidence and publish it under his name, but he insisted I continue my work and once I gained the respect of the Historical Guild, that I publish my findings on my own." A poignant expression touched his face. "He had faith in me."

Enthralled, Hermione asked, "So why didn't you?"

Remembering, Dunn took on a faraway expression. "I submitted paper after paper on the most dry and mundane, but thoroughly researched, subjects related to, but never mentioning, the Book. For years I established my reputation as a careful and methodical historian. Always the facts, never any embellishments."

"Sounds bloody boring," Ron muttered.

"That it was at times," Dunn agreed, causing Ron to blush. "But that's the way it is. Year after year I studied vampire clans, historical documents, things closely related to the Book, but I never ventured near that volatile subject itself. I gained respect among historians of all kinds. My grandfather paved the way in many cases, but I was proving myself as a researcher."

"So what happened?" Ginny prompted.

Dunn sighed. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named happened." The foursome exchanged surprised glances. "The wizarding world plunged into chaos. There was no time for digging into the past when the future was no longer so sure. Fear destroys curiosity more than anything else. Once Harry-" Dunn paused and glanced at Harry, his eyes instinctively flicking toward his scar. "Once Harry here ended it, the fervor that had once fueled the Book controversy had long since burned out. There was little, if any, interest in the subject anymore and any respect I had gained would have been lost trying to revive a 'self-indulgent flight of fancy' as serious historians referred to it. I kept my Book research to myself, only occasionally discussing it with old friends, in a purely philosophical way, of course."

Harry wondered what Dunn would think if he knew Voldemort was currently looking for the Book himself.

"But you still believe it is real?" Hermione prodded.

"Oh, yes," Dunn assured her. "But before I prattle on about my theories, tell me what you've discovered."

Harry felt a vague suspicion at Dunn's insistence on finding out what they knew, but when he caught Dunn's eye and tried a touch of Occlumency, thought Dunn was driven by simple curiosity and not anything more sinister.

Exchanging a look with Ginny, Hermione began hesitantly at a suggestive look from her, "Well, we did find out a bit about the Book. Not much. Um... well, one reference said it was probably bound in unicorn hide and glowed white." At Dunn's encouraging expression, she went on a bit more bravely, "And we read somewhere it's written in the Blood of the Betrayed, human blood, that is. And the cover might have some kind of protective or binding runes on it."

She trailed off at the end, and Harry wondered if she was reluctant to let Dunn know just how much research they had done.

Dunn however, looked ecstatic. "Wonderful!"

Ron tossed Harry a look that clearly stated he thought Dunn was mental, but Harry resolutely ignored it.

"We found out a bit about a soul-bind between the Guardian and the Book," Harry began, hoping he wasn't revealing too much, "but we couldn't find anything about how you would even manage something like that. It seemed to imply if you're the Guardian you can't die as long as you're tied to the Book. Can you tell us anything about that?"

"It is a commonly held belief that the Guardian is basically immortal as long as they are in possession of the Book. The exact nature of that immortality is much debated." His eyes glittering, Dunn stood. He seemed about to say something, but stopped himself. He motioned for them to remain where they were as he dashed off through the doors that presumably led to his private rooms.

With a shake of the head, Ron whispered, "Is it me, or is he off his nut?"

"Well, I can't say I've ever seen him this enthusiastic during class," Ginny agreed.

Defending him, Hermione huffed, "Sometimes people are passionate about something and when people finally show an interest, it brings out the best in them."

She was glaring at Ron, though neither he nor Harry had any idea what she was obviously hinting at. They were saved from trying to muddle through it by Dunn's excited return.

Sitting down he leaned over the small box he'd gone to fetch. In a low voice, he said, "This... this is my most prized possession. My grandfather passed it to me just before he died."

Leaning back, Dunn carefully opened the low, rectangular wooden box. Turing it toward them slowly, the foursome peered inside to see a bit of faded, torn parchment covered in runes. The spiky glyphs almost shone against the unusually light color of the parchment. At first, Harry thought it was written in low-quality ink, but quickly realized the runes were not black as he'd first thought.

Realization came to them all at roughly the same time, but it was Ginny who was the first to speak.

"That's from the Book, isn't it?' she said in a hushed tone.

"Yes!" Dunn said in an excited whisper. "I've only shown it to one other person, an equally enthusiastic Book historian. He's performed numerous tests on the ink and the parchment and this does appear to be from the actual Book of Shadows."

"What does it say?" Ron asked.

Glancing at the four of them, Dunn asked a question in response. "Do any of you take Ancient Runes?" To Harry's surprise, Ginny, as well as Hermione, raised her hand. "Read it."

Between them, they haltingly translated the bits they could read from the torn page. Partially out loud, but mostly scribbled on bits of spare parchment, it only took Ginny and Hermione about five minutes to roughly translate the runes on the small bit torn from the Book of Shadows.

Clearing her throat and looking to Dunn, Hermione translated, "... and the Guardian shall hold the Knowledge until such time as the Book is passed. The Guardian alongside will be as One, together they possess the Key of Light and unto Eternity will remain. Guardian and Book together shall bestow this knowing unto the People until the end of Time..." she paused, "There's another rune there but without the rest we can't really say for sure what it refers to."

"So basically that bit from the Book tells us what we already know," Ron tried not to sound disappointed.

But Dunn had a gleam in his eye. "A fine translation. But," he looked to Ginny and Hermione, "take a closer look here."

He pointed to a squiggly mark. Harry had no idea what it meant, and from their expressions, Ginny and Hermione weren't sure what he was getting at either.

"You translated this as 'Guardian'," he stated.

Ginny glanced at her hastily scribbled notes. "Well, yes. I mean, it can mean 'protector' 'defender', or even 'shield', so we figured it was referring to the Guardian."

"What's the Key of Light?" Harry interrupted.

Closing the cover over the Book fragment, Dunn sighed. "That I do not know. Nor does anyone else interested in Book lore. This is the only reference known and those who don't know it comes from an actual page ripped from the Book think it is merely part of the Immortality Curse associated with the Book- probably referring to the soul-bind. But that brings us back to that particular rune." He looked back to the girls. "I know that we, lamentably, don't have the entire text to compare to, but why would the author use that rune to denote 'Guardian'? In the other two places it references them it uses the far simpler and clearer form."

Both Hermione and Ginny shrugged. "For variety?" Ginny guessed.

"You know when things are written in runes each one is very carefully chosen," Dunn admonished.

"So what?" Ron interjected, obviously feeling a bit confused and left out. "So there are two different runes that name the same person. Does that really mean anything?"

"But what if there aren't?" Dunn asked.

"So you're saying the text doesn't say, 'the Guardian shall hold the Knowledge until such time as the Book is passed. The Guardian alongside will be as One, together they possess the Key of Light and unto Eternity will remain' it says, 'The Guardian' etcetera, and the Protector alongside will be as One?"

"YES!" Dunn almost jumped out of his seat.

Realization seemed to dawn on both Ginny and Hermione, but the boys, unfamiliar with runes, felt woefully left behind.

"Care to explain to the rest of us?" Ron spoke up.

Still reeling, Hermione set her notes down and pointed. "We thought the Book was guarded by one person, right? And that one person somehow managed a permanent soul-bind to the Book without dying and was granted a sort of immunity from death as long as they were bound, supposedly until they passed the Book on." The boys nodded. "Well, no one has been able to do an inanimate object-soul bind without dying slowly from losing a piece of their soul from the unequal exchange."

"But isn't the Book special somehow?" Harry asked.

"No, well, yes, but," Ginny said, her voice picking up speed as she helped explain, "See, if this piece of the Book is real, and says what we think it says, the Book does have a Guardian, but-"

"But," Hermione continued, "The Guardian has a Protector."

Unable to keep quiet Dunn exclaimed, "Exactly!"

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. "What?"

Hermione tried to explain, "See, the Guardian can do an object-soul bind to the Book. And maybe it is different that what other people can do with other objects, but it still has to have the same effect eventually. You can't soul-bind to an object forever without eventually killing yourself." Before they could say they didn't follow, she went on, "But, if the Guardian had someone else, another living soul, to share the bind with, the loss is not enough to kill either of them. At least, their bind to one another, along with whatever magical properties of the Book, would be strong enough to grant them a sort of immortality until they passed the Book on. They could live for as long as they needed until they found a suitable person, or pair, to pass the Book to."

"If the Guardian can find a Protector to soul-bind with, they will keep each other alive until the Guardian passes the Book on to the next person," Ginny stated much more succinctly.

"How did you get that from three translated lines?" Ron asked bewildered.

Blinking, Hermione said, "Well... it makes sense, considering the soul-bind problem and if you think about it in the context..."

They all looked to Dunn who looked absolutely thrilled with their conclusions. "I must say, I was quite excited to find students interested in such an esoteric subject, but the fact you understood so quickly..."

Hermione looked pensive. "So the truth is there is no way to permanently soul-bind to an object by oneself. Not even for the Guardian of the Book of Shadows. And even then, the promised immortality is not a true one, the Book has to be passed eventually."

Harry wondered if this was in fact true, and if Voldemort knew.

"There is one last piece," Dunn said softly. "And this I haven't even suggested to other historians, Book oriented or otherwise." Sensing this could be important, Harry leaned closer. "I don't know how much you've looked into how one soul-binds to another," there were a few murmurs about love from Ginny, "but in the cases of attempted living soul to object binds, blood is required. We can guess that there is some ritual, or incantation, or combination of both, that establishes the connection of the Guardian to the Book of Shadows. Now I don't know if the Protector-Guardian bind is a purely natural soul-bind, but one would have to assume it is to be strong enough to sustain them both."

After a pause, Dunn seemed to switch tactics. "I assume you discovered the original Guardians were a clan of vampires, yes?" At their nods, Dunn went on, "When I examined all the evidence: the soul-bind to the Book, the discovery of the Guardian's Protector, and the fact that the first known people associated with the Book were a clan of vampires, something occurred to me."

He paused, Harry wondered if in hopes one of them would make the same connection he had. Though he pondered the information they'd just been given, he couldn't see what Dunn was getting at. Sneaking a look at his friends, he figured they couldn't either. Until Ginny gasped. Raising his eyebrows, Dunn looked to her.

"Oh, no. It was just a silly thought," she said dismissively.

"No such thing," Dunn insisted.

"It's just..." Ginny said haltingly. "Suppose each Guardian does have a Protector. Someone who loved them beyond anything so that either a spontaneous or time-lapse soul bind would occur." At his encouraging nod, she continued, "Well, how likely is it that they would always find each other? Not every Guardian is guaranteed to find their Protector."

"So what does that mean?" Ron asked.

Hermione seemed to get it. "We know that as long as they're bound to the Book, the Guardian can't really die. But if they never find someone to share the soul-bind with they become less and less human over time. They don't die, but they're not really alive anymore, either. They're-"

"Undead," Harry said, comprehension dawning. "And you need blood for other impermanent binds..."

Ron looked between the other three and Dunn. "Wait, so you're saying vampires didn't create the Book of Shadows-"

"The Book of Shadows created vampires," Harry finished, stunned.

Dunn looked elated, "You put the pieces together far faster than I had! Wonderful! Wonderful! Surely the bind to the Book has consequences we can't even begin to fathom. Can you imagine? Those who were chosen as Guardians and couldn't find their Protector to share the burden might have attempted to bind with others in the hopes that even a temporary bind of blood would help them. Thus splitting one soul-bind into more and more until an entire race was created. Each member therein doomed to feel the slow burn of a missing part of their soul, the origins of which have been lost to the ages, and so they continue to feed and dilute the bind until they slowly expire?"

The foursome sat in stunned silence.

Sitting back Dunn smiled, "Of course, it's only one man's theory."

"It's a hell of a theory," Ron muttered.

Still reeling, Harry recalled why they had gone to Dunn in the first place. Shaking the astonishing conjecture aside, he asked, "Did you ever find out anything about finding out who the current Guardian was?"

Musing for a moment, Dunn said, almost to himself, "It is commonly thought that there is a way to ascertain who the current Guardian is. My thoughts were that the Protector must have a way of finding them if they were so unfortunate as to be born far apart."

"But what if you're not tied to the Book in any way?" Hermione asked.

Dunn shrugged. "As a locator spell, it would conceivably work for anyone, though only those interested in Book lore would be likely to know the ritual."

"Do you know?" Harry was almost afraid to ask.

Folding his hands, Dunn said, "I have another Book historian's notes on the subject. Whether it is authentic is a point of contention, of course."

Breathlessly, Hermione asked, "Could we see?"

Smiling, Dunn rose, collecting his precious wooden box. "I will make a copy for you."

When he returned and handed Harry the pages, he admonished, "Now I see it is almost curfew, so I must regrettably end our discussion. I must say it was delightful to find such open minds to discuss the Book with, and if you would be interested in other theories on the subject, I would love to speak with you again."

Thanking him, the foursome made their way out of Dunn's office and through the classroom. Harry thought he caught a flash of white dart out of the open doorway to the hall, but figured it must have been one of the many mice inhabiting the castle, if not just a trick of the light. They mulled over the vast amount of information Dunn had revealed on the silent walk back to Gryffindor Tower.