Unplottable

20 - Harry

When Hermione approached him very apprehensively to talk about Sirius, Harry felt his conscience give a pang. Of course, he had been warned not to breathe a word about his godfather to anyone else, but that would not have kept him from sharing secrets with his best friends in the past. However, things were not like they had once been in the past with Ron, Hermione and him anymore: Hermione seemed busier than ever, so busy, in fact, that Harry had idly wondered whether she had acquired another time-turner. Ron was ill, and Harry himself - well, sometimes it seemed to him he was carrying a heavy load of people on his back, people he was worrying about : Ron, for one thing, Cho, for another, and, till recently, Sirius. Well, at least and to his great relief, he knew now that Sirius was alright.

When Hermione had asked him whether he had ever heard from Sirius since his godfather's disappearance, her face aglow with 'I know something you don't know,' Harry had simply nodded. "You tell me what you know, and I'll tell you what I know," he'd said. At that point, Hermione had given him that odd look, a little relieved, a little curious, but mostly hurt. Seeing her, Harry realised he should have shared his knowledge with his friends immediately, be they sick, well or busy.

"Professor Varlerta took me into a Muggle town a couple of days ago and called him from a Muggle phone booth," he whispered to her. Hermione moved her armchair even closer to his, obviously trying to make him speak even more softly. Harry found her over-careful; their corner of the common room was empty besides them, while in the main part of the room some of the younger students were playing a raucous game involving a couple of Wizard Wheeze products. All in all, it was too noisy for anyone else to overhear their conversation. Nevertheless, he humoured her apprehension and breathed at minimum volume:

"Sirius is still in New York with someone Varlerta knows, obviously. He is alright. He said he sent me a couple of letters with Muggle mail which never arrived. Lupin's returned to Britain, because they are on Wormtail's trail and split up to find him."

"That's great news," Hermione said, almost smiling. "I heard about Lupin, too, so I wondered what had happened to Sirius."

"Where did you hear about Lupin?" Harry asked. There were still a lot of Aurors looking for Remus Lupin, so he didn't think information concerning his whereabouts should be available to everybody. Of course, he knew how trustworthy Hermione was, but he could not help wondering who else was disclosing dangerous information to her.

Hermione hesitated. Finally she said: "Ambrose Curtis told me. He knows Sirius is your godfather, and that we both care about Lupin, so he told me what he had heard."

Somehow, her reply made Harry uneasy, though he could not say why that was the case right then. Still he wondered why the wizard who had taught them wanded combat in Professor Varlerta's class should tell Hermione such things, which were definitely not supposed to be common knowledge. Still, of course it was good of Hermione to think of Harry straight away, even though her information, taken on its own, would have increased Harry's worries. Her behaviour showed him that she was still his friend even if they did not spend much time together these days.

Ill at ease with expressing such feelings, he asked after a pause: "Do you think they have a chance of catching Wormtail?"

Hermione shrugged. "I heard there's a lot of people out there, looking for him. Maybe the two of them will get lucky, but to be honest, I doubt it. Let's face it, the fact that they split up to find him strongly suggests that they don't even know in which country to look."

Harry hadn't really thought of that, but as often, coming from Hermione's mouth, the statement made sense. He wished it didn't, though. The telephone conversation had put a soothing lid of ease on the spluttering cauldron of his worries about Sirius. Somehow, Hermione had managed to uncover his unease again, and - surprise! - he found he was still worried about Sirius. There were a few inexplicable elements in his godfather's story - the long silence, the lost letters, the separation from Lupin. Could there be something fishy about the whole story? But why would his godfather lie to him?

Hermione stared into the semi-darkness of their shady common room corner. Watching her, Harry realised that she was thinking about something, maybe making up her mind. Finally, she said:

"You see, Harry, someone told me that Lupin - that the person we think is Lupin might not be Lupin at all, that he's just another person filled up to the brim with Polyjuice Potion. Do you think we could find out whether that's the case?"

"How can we do that when we don't know where he is?" Harry asked, frowning. He found all this talk about false Lupins rather alarming and suddenly wished Hermione would change the subject to Chocolate Frogs or Fizzing Whizbees, or even to the current, disastrous state of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Of course, such wishes were idle thinking; Hermione replied: "Oh, he's here in the castle somewhere. All we have to do is find him."

"How do you know that - have you seen him?" Harry retorted, surprised by her reply.

"Er, no - that's just what I heard," Hermione answered, not looking at him.

"Where in the world do you get all that information from, Hermione? It sounds like you've got a web of spies working for you," Harry broke out, waiting for an explanation or at least a denial.

It never came; Hermione just stared at her fingers. Harry noticed that some of her fingernails were broken, and that there was something like gold dust under one of those which weren't. Traces of Alchemy, he knew.

"Look, I can't really tell you," Hermione finally said very quietly.

"Oh, you can't? I thought we were friends," Harry said, regretting his acerbic tone as soon as he had uttered the words.

Hermione sighed. "Trust me, then. I know what I'm doing, and I know I'm not going to do any harm. I'll tell you one day, when it's safe to tell you - I promise."

Harry put his hands over his eyes and rubbed them hard. "Don't tell me you are in trouble, too. That's just what I need right now - yet another person to worry about!"

Hermione laughed - a genuine, careless Hermione laugh as Harry hadn't heard in a long while. "Blimey, thanks Harry - I knew you are a true friend!"

"That's not how I meant it, and you know it," Harry replied, slightly impatient. "If you are in trouble, you've got to tell me. It's just recently - it's all becoming a bit too much for me, you know?"

Hermione patted him on the shoulder; somehow Harry thought that he felt a little bit of irony in her gesture, even though he could not tell how he got that impression. "I'm not in trouble, Harry, don't worry. I just have a private little secret, a perfectly harmless one, I assure you."

A strange thought crossed Harry's mind. "The secret doesn't happen to have to do with Ambrose Curtis, does it?" he asked.

Hermione worsened his fears by blushing so much that it was even visible in the darkish corner they were sharing. "No, not at all, why do you ask?" she replied. Then, before he could answer her question, she continued rather quickly: "Now, about Lupin, or maybe some spy posing as Lupin, we really have to do something. There is an antidote potion which shows you whether someone has acquired his outward appearance by taking Polyjuice Potion. As a matter of fact, it's a bit like Muggle Litmus paper: It's a tasteless and colourless potion, but if you drink it after you've drunken Polyjuice Potion, you turn bright green. If you haven't had any Polyjuice Potion, you turn purple. I admit it's kind of obvious if we use this potion, but it seems this is the quickest way to find out the truth."

For a moment, Harry wondered why nobody had subjected the assumingly false Lupin to this test if things were really that easy. Apparently, somebody, probably Ambrose Curtis, had told Hermione of his suspicion. Why then hadn't the adult wizard tried the Litmus potion on Lupin himself? After what had happened two years ago, why wasn't anybody else suspecting anything? However, precisely the memory of what had happened after the Triwizard Tournament, the memory of how a teacher he trusted had turned out to be a Polyjuice impostor, made Harry agree with Hermione. Nobody, not even
Dumbledore, had suspected anything back then. As Ron had once said, Dumbledore himself had made plenty of mistakes, had been frequently deluded by spies and impostors. Therefore, once more it seemed best that Harry and Hermione took matters into their own hands.

"Tell me what we can do to find this person who may be posing as Lupin," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged. "We have to keep our eyes open, as we do not know where he might be hiding. No matter whether he's really Lupin or just a Polyjuice impostor, coming back here must have been extremely risky. Of course, the Investiwitches have left the castle after their search. Still, Lupin is wanted dead or alive for the murder of the Minister of Magic. The impostor - if it is an impostor - is risking being thrown into Azkaban for that crime if he is caught looking like Remus Lupin. That's why I thought both Dumbledore and he will make sure that he is hidden extremely well in this castle. If anybody sees him and word gets around, we will really have a problem here."

Harry nodded. As usual, what she said made sense. "So do you think we have a chance of finding him?" he asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe not. Then again - don't call me superstitious, but we usually do not have to look for dangerous things to do. Judging from experience, they frequently find us, don't you think so?"

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

After classes had ended the next day, Harry went to the tower above Ravenclaw Hall to see Cho Chang. Officially proclaimed to be suffering from a magical accident, Cho had been permitted to stay away from the normal buzz of the school until she felt better, even though teachers had probably encouraged her to feel better as soon as possible. However, Cho had kept to her seclusion for more than a month now, ignoring all suggestions that she should go back to her classes. As often before, Harry found her sitting on the windowsill, her knees drawn up to her chin, hugging her legs and gazing out of the slightly steamed-up window into the grey winter sky.

"Hi Cho," Harry said and sat down on an armchair next to the windowsill. At first, he had been embarrassed to come here and to be alone with her, but after a while, the embarrassment had worn off. Cho didn't usually say much, but she seemed glad he came to see her again and again, if the word 'glad' was not inappropriately used for somebody so sorrowful.

"Harry, it's nice to see you," Cho said quietly. She turned around on the windowsill until she half faced him, then hugged her knees again, assuming the exact position she had had before.

"How are you feeling today?" Harry asked, as always.

"Surviving," she replied with a crooked smile. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

"You have to," Harry said encouragingly. "You can't let this get you down so much. You have to get on with your life, go to your lessons again, practise -" Quidditch, he had been going to say, but had caught himself in time. Bereft of her wand, magically impeded by a potion she took every day, Cho didn't have much of a life left to go on with. Between Snape's impeding potion and his love potion, the fugitive Potions master had managed to utterly destroy everything that made up the Cho Harry had come to love. Nevertheless, all of Cho's thoughts were not with her own situation, but with Snape.

"How can I live?" she asked. "He's out there somewhere in the cold, or imprisoned by the enemy, being tortured, if he hasn't been killed yet. They say he has gone over to the enemy. I do not believe he would do such a thing. But if it is true, I wish he had taken me with him, even straight into torture and death, rather than leaving me here."

"He's despicable," Harry said. "Cho, you've got to stop thinking of him." The thought of Cho longing for Snape made him physically sick.

Cho moved her head until she looked Harry directly in the eyes. She had not done this for a long, long time.

"Harry, you are the only friend I've got in this world. You are the only one who still bothers to come and see me, except for the nurse and whoever brings me food. They all shun me because I love a man everybody else despises, because I can't give him up even if I give up everything else. Will you, too, abandon me because you think my truest and most intense feelings are nothing but a magical accident?"

It is the potion at work in her, it is not her fault, Harry repeated in his thoughts like a mantra. Then he went to her and put an arm around her shoulder. "I will never abandon you, Cho, no matter what happens," he told her in a gentle voice. "I don't want you to be unhappy, and I do hope that this potion will wear off soon, but no matter who you love, I will always be there for you."

"It is not a potion that makes me feel what I feel - my love is true," Cho murmured, but she put her head on Harry's shoulder and let him draw her close to him.

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

Ron had never been a particularly good student, but for the first time ever, Harry was truly wondering if his friend would pass the finals of the year. True, unlike Harry, he had failed his OWLs in Potions and Transfiguration (but had narrowly passed, unlike Harry, his Divination OWLs). However, OWLs were another matter; you were supposed to fail at least one or two unless you were Hermione Granger. The sixth year's finals, on the other hand, were just finals, and everyone attending the classes he or she was still taking should be able to pass them. Sixth year's finals were supposed to be relatively manageable, at least compared to NEWTs at the end of the seventh year.

Both Ron and Harry had kept the subjects Defence against the Dark Arts, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. Neither had even signed up to do the Astronomy or History of Magic OWLs; they had simply dropped these subjects. Due to failing their OWLs in Transfiguration and Potions (Ron) and Divination (Harry), they had been forced out of these subjects, too, which left Harry with six and Ron with five subjects. Then, because of his illness, Ron had been pronounced unfit to go to a class on his own, and had dropped out of Divination, too. Instead, he was now going to Potions class together with Harry. This was against school policy, of course, but Professor Lyons had insisted he did not mind: If Ron passed the sixth year finals, he'd even suggest to Professor McGonagall they should count as OWLs, Lyons had said. However, Ron did not appear like he was likely to pass any finals at all this year:

For almost three months now, he had not been able to focus his attention on anything for a long time, and he was virtually unable to take an active part in any kind of lesson. It wasn't that Ron had suddenly become stupid; it was more a lack of energy, a lack of willpower. Someone with Snape's mean inclination would have said that Ron had simply become even lazier than before, but Harry knew otherwise. While Ron had never been one to be enthusiastic about school work in any way, Harry knew he really could work on things if he was really interested - Quidditch, for one thing, Ensouling, for another. Now Ron had not Ensouled anything since summer. At first, Ensouling just did not seem to work for him anymore for unknown reasons; Mr. Pigmalgion, the Ensouling expert, had said Ron might need a creative pause after his Ice Missile injury. After Halloween, there had been no question of Ron even attempting such an activity: Before he could awaken life in a dead thing, it seemed Ron had to re-awaken life in himself.

Going back to life meant, among other things, being present at his classes, not physically present, but as an active participant; however, this appeared to be difficult for Ron. It seemed to Harry that getting his friend to have a go at his Charms homework was harder than doing his own homework. As they showed their essays to Flitwick, Harry saw the tiny teacher frown upon Ron's short text and his irregular writing decorated with a couple of ink blotches. In spite of all his efforts, Ron had not produced anything acceptable. Since his injury, it was as if, for Ron, life was like struggling through breast-high water now, while everybody else just walked on land with ease. Harry could not understand it. Then again, thanks to Remus Lupin, he had not been hit by an Ice Missile himself, of course.

Flitwick's lessons were mostly boring these days. Bereft of his wand, the teacher insisted it would be better to get all the theory covered first before they went on to the complex charms that were NEWTs material. Of course, everyone saw through his lies. Harry knew that older students, for example Fred and George, had done the theory last, at the end of the seventh year. Charms you could practise over time, improving up to your NEWTs, they had explained. Theory, on the other hand, was a thing likely to be forgotten over time if it had no practical application. No, Harry knew that Flitwick had changed his syllabus not because the teacher had improved it in any way, but because he could not teach the way he had always taught, as he himself could not do any magic now. Like everyone else, the Charms teacher was probably hoping for the panacea to be done soon. Until then, the students had to write essays, and then more essays.

Currently, they were discussing the principle of time/place alteration, a principle which was at work in Vanishing and Conjuring charms, and, in a more complex form, in Apparating. Banishing and Summoning charms were used only for simple place alteration, something which, as Professor Varlerta had once put it, did not differ so very much from a Muggle getting up and fetching something, or throwing it across the room. The main magical property of these charms was 'will-controlled flying motion', as Ron and Harry had both successfully explained in their Charms OWLs. In contrast, Vanishing something or Conjuring it up meant a 'tempus-dimension change' as well. (The sixth year students presently were up to the technical vocabulary of Charms theory quite well, a consequence of excessive essay writing.) If you Banished something, it just flew to the other side of the room; if you
Vanished it, you did not know where it would re-appear. Mostly, Vanished objects re-appeared some time in the future at an unobserved place, thereby frequently confusing Muggles. It was similar with Conjuring something up: With this charm, you seemed to fetch an object out of sheer nothingness, but in reality, if you Conjured up a cup of tea, it probably meant that somewhere in the near future, a Muggle would look around in his or her office, wondering: 'Now, where did I put that cup?'

Of course, there were strict laws regulating such spells, another topic for ceaseless essay writing: You were not allowed to Conjure up objects worth more than five Galleons, and you were obliged to Vanish them back once you were done with them. Hermione had proposed in class that this practice only increased the confusion of the victimised Muggles and had asked whether this was a strategy to keep Muggle self-confidence low: Her mother, she'd said, would often look for something, swearing she had put it in a certain place; when the object in question re-appeared at precisely that place some time later, Mrs Granger would doubt her own sanity. This way, Hermione had complained in class, Muggles learned to doubt their own perception, explaining away occasional sightings of dragons, Apparating wizards or similar. However, Flitwick had told her she was paranoid, seeing anti-Muggle strategies wherever she looked. Harry wasn't sure about it himself.

The current essay the class had been asked to write dealt with the principle of time/place alteration, or, more precisely, a comparison of the spells and charms in question. As often, Flitwick asked Hermione to read out her essay as a model for the other students. This was often informative, sometimes even more informative than reading the textbook; sometimes, however, it was slightly discouraging, too.

"Firstly, an Apparating spell," Hermione read aloud, "involves a tempus-dimension change like a Vanishing or Conjuring spell. A person or an object is re-located in space and in a way also in time; this re-location does not involve something flying through the air, but the dissolution of it in the dimensions of time and space. Therefore, the Apparating spell shares the suddenness of appearance and disappearance with the Vanishing and the Conjuring spell. Unlike them, however, the Apparating spell requires a far higher level of control from the witch or wizard using it. If someone, for example, Banishes an object, after the spell he or she does not know where exactly the object goes.

"Quite obviously, an Apparating spell involves re-locating a person, not an object; more precisely it means re-locating your own body. Therefore, you obviously do not lose track of the object you are moving; neither is its final destination of no concern to you: You want to arrive exactly in the place you intend to go. This takes up a lot of concentration; inexperienced witches and wizards often either lose track of their intended destination or of their dimension control spell, which insures that their body arrives in one piece. The latter mistake causes the so-called 'splinch', which is illegal and dangerous.

"Secondly, all three spells involve a time-relocation which always involves the future, but never the past: Just like you cannot fetch something from the past or deposit it there with a spell, you can never Apparate into the past, but only into the future. However, it is both illegal and impractical to go to a future further away than two NATIs, which is short for Normal Apparition Time Interval. Depending on the distance travelled and the experience of the witch or wizard in question, a NATI can be anything from two to thirty seconds.

"Finally, there are different legal limits to the different spells. You may never Vanish anything dangerous, potentially harmful, or anything which endangers Anti-Muggle security; you may never Conjure up something which is worth more than five Galleons, and you have to Vanish it back if you are done with it. However, you do not need a license to do these spells, as long as you have come of age and have acquired at least two OWLs. For Apparating, there is a separate license you can only get by being of age and by passing a separate test."

"Very well done, as always, Miss Granger," Flitwick piped. "Everybody else, please see whether you have something to correct in your homework."

Hermione sat down as the other Sixth Year Gryffindors knocked their knuckles onto their desk as a form of applause. Harry could only agree with them: Even though his essay contained most of the important points Hermione had mentioned, she simply knew how to put it best. It would have taken him quite a long time to write such a well-structured essay; Ron might not have been able to do it at all, given his current state of mind. Harry could not help wondering how Hermione could find the time to do her homework so well: Unlike all other students he knew, she had not kept five, six or seven subjects, but eight; in addition to this, she was doing her History of Magic NEWTs project and was studying Alchemy. She had to be the most effective student in the school, he thought while correcting a few points in his own essay. Meanwhile, Hermione was adding a few things to Ron's essay, "for his notes," as she said.

"Now, we have gotten ahead quite well in the theory of time/place-alteration," Flitwick said. "There is, by the way, one more spell, or rather curse, which is related to the spells we are discussing. Does anybody know it?"

It was 'guessing what the teacher wants to hear' again, Harry thought wryly: Flitwick had asked a quiz question, hoping that somebody would happen to know the answer. Of course, as usual, the teacher got lucky, because Hermione appeared to have the information he wanted to hear: Her arm went straight up into the air. When Flitwick asked her to speak up, she replied:

"You probably mean the Eliminatus curse, Sir."

"That's right, Miss Granger," Flitwick squeaked gleefully, "the Eliminatus curse. What can you tell me about it?"

"The idea of the Eliminatus curse is that the object in question disappears altogether. This axiom, of course, is impossible to prove, but neither has anybody ever been able to prove it wrong, which, to the mind of an Arithmancist, is proof enough for the time being. Therefore, we assume that the Eliminatus curse indeed does not re-locate an object, but 'un-locates' it, as they say in the books." Hermione's voice inflection made the quotation marks around that term perfectly audible; her face was beaming, as always when she was relating a complicated piece of knowledge to her fellow students. "Still, the theorists believe that the curse is related to time/place-alteration. However, as the curse has been outlawed by the General Curse Ban of 1947, no more research has been done on this. Of course, there has been a discussion to use it for the elimination of dangerous objects, for example nuclear waste, a very harmful substance produced by Muggles."

Flitwick nodded. "Yes, this has been discussed. On the other hand, as you said, it is totally unclear whether an Eliminatus curse indeed wipes substances or objects from the face of the earth. Until we know more about this, it does not seem advisable to alter the laws and experiment with the potential lethal combination of a harmful curse and a harmful substance."

Harry felt himself shudder. He had heard about nuclear waste on the Muggle news a long time ago; it spooked him even more than the strange, forbidden curse Hermione was talking about. He was glad when the conversation turned to the homework the class was supposed to do for the next day, a slightly unpleasant, but nevertheless predictable and harmless topic.

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

The next day, after a rather depressing Quidditch practise and a short, but refreshing sky ride on the Thestral, Harry went to see Cho again. She was sitting on the windowsill in the same position as the day before, hugging her knees and gazing out into the fog; if she had not changed her robes, Harry would have thought she had not moved at all. Seeing her greet him with the ghost of a smile, he made another attempt at fetching her back into the real world.

"Cho, it's no wonder you are depressed when you are always sitting here all by yourself in this room," he said. "At least return to sleep in your dormitory, and go to your classes. You can't do magic, true, but you still might be able to pass your NEWTs if you pick up your studies now. Please, Cho, just don't sit around here all day."

Cho sighed. After a short hesitation, she said: "I can't."

"Why? Have you ever tried?" Harry pushed on.

Cho's gaze slipped from of his and back to the window. "I have," she finally said. "You say it's the real world down there. Everybody says so. To me, it is nothing but a meaningless shadow now."

"But maybe that will change some day, and then you might be glad you have gone to your classes," Harry insisted. "Come on, try again, Cho, it can't hurt, can it?"

"They hurt me," Cho said quietly.

"Who?" Harry was bewildered. Who could have the brutality to hurt Cho, who had suffered so much already?

"The others in my house, and in my year, even my former friends. They treat me like a pariah, and they say I am a slut, a madwoman and a freak. They say terrible things about Severus, and worse things about me. If I do not react to their slander, they grow worse and worse. If I reply in any way, they show how much they despise me. If I cry, they laugh at me. I can't go back there, I really can't."

Harry felt helpless. How could people treat each other that way, instead of supporting those befallen by such a misfortune? He wanted to encourage Cho, but he did not know what to say. Finally, an idea started to form in his head. It was his last trump card, a trump card he hated, a trump card which made him physically sick. He wished he could think of something else to say, but finally he gave in to the desire to make Cho return to life, so he said:

"But what would Snape say if he knew you're hiding here up in the tower all the time, neglecting your studies and risking your degree? He wouldn't approve, would he? And you know that he does not tolerate weakness. If you were to tell him what you have told me, wouldn't he ridicule you for your fears? He would expect you to bravely face all your classmates, no matter what they say."

Harry watched Cho dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. When she did not reply, he urged her: "Go back to your house and to your classes, Cho, even if you only do it for Snape."

"You are right," Cho admitted. "Severus would not tolerate my behaviour. But I can't change it - I'm just not strong enough to face everybody again."

"If it is Snape you love, you should be strong," Harry retorted, hating himself for his own hypocrisy. "Think about how proud he is, and how he defied all the students who hate him every day. Shouldn't you prove you are as strong and proud as him, even in the face who treat you meanly?"

"But what difference would it make?" she asked, desperation in her voice. "Severus surely is dead, or imprisoned by the enemy. He will never know how strong I am, or whether or not I get my NEWTs."

"How do you know?" Harry asked, though in his heart he hoped she was right. "Maybe he is sly enough to escape, or maybe he is hiding somewhere. You said you could not give him up, but to me it seems you already did if you insist he is not coming back."

"You think there's hope, then?" Cho asked, her liquid brown eyes directed at Harry.

"Sure," he replied reluctantly.

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

Harry was glad to see Cho in the corridor the next day. She looked thin, and there were black shadows under her eyes; he also noticed that she was alone, not surrounded by popular, giggling friends anymore. However, he also saw that she was carrying a bag full of books, and that she appeared to be aiming for a classroom. When she spotted him, she gave him a tiny wave and even half-smiled as she passed him. He felt as if another one of the burdens on his mind had been lifted: Cho did not look particularly happy, but at least she did not lock herself in the tower anymore. Even though Harry was disgusted with the means he had used to accomplish this, he was satisfied with the outcome. Soon, he hoped, Cho would feel better if she was around people again.

In spite of himself, in spite of his worries, Harry felt elated as he watched Cho descend the stairway towards the door that led out to the greenhouses. Ron, meanwhile, stood by and looked at Harry without a word. All of a sudden, Harry wished Ron would tease him about Cho. He had always hated to be teased about such things before, but suddenly he felt that it would have been such a normal thing if his best friend teased him about staring after a girl. He realised that he was sick of worrying, sick of everybody being sick, that he craved normality. When, oh when would the panacea be done? When would Snape's love potion wear off? Sighing, he said to Ron: "We've got Defence Against the Dark Arts now. Let's go."

Ron followed him with his usual, lifeless nod. Just for the sake of pretence, Harry chatted on: "How did you like that Concealment charm we did yesterday? I thought it was pretty nifty. Now all we have to do is get the hang of it, don't you think?"

"And you'll get there with a bit of practise," a voice came from behind: Coming from one of her extra classes, Hermione had caught up with them. "Hey, was that Cho Chang up and about again?"

Harry nodded, but he did not feel like elaborating: Neither did he want Hermione's congratulations or even praise, nor did he want to tell anybody how he had gotten Cho to go to her classes again.

"Heard anything new about-?" he asked her, knowing she would understand that he was referring to the possibly false Lupin.

Hermione shook her head. Both Harry and her were keeping their eyes open for signs of Lupin, but had not had any luck so far. Not for the first time, it gave Harry a pang that Ron did not demand to be let in on the secret they were obviously sharing. In silence, the three of them walked down the stairways.

In Defence Against the Dark Arts, the Gryffindors were currently learning 'to play hide and seek,' as Professor Varlerta had put it. After spending three months practising wanded combat with Ambrose Curtis, Professor Varlerta had moved on to "more defensive techniques of getting out of a dangerous situation," as she had put it - namely hiding and fleeing. Dismissing all the Gryffindors' techniques that this was "cowards' magic," she had soon managed to motivate them by teaching a couple of spells most students enjoyed using. While it was too difficult even for sixth year students to sustain Invisibility spells over any reasonable amount of time, there were, for example, spells which made any natural form of concealment or camouflage more effective. The Gryffindors had learned that if they managed to apply a Concealment spell correctly, they were tolerably well hidden even behind a tree trunk.

Wrapped in their winter cloaks and red and gold scarves, the Gryffindors went outside to Professor Varlerta's classroom, only to find the sixth year Hufflepuffs waiting there, chatting with the teacher. Turning to the newly arrived Gryffindors, the teacher told them:

"Morning, everybody. Today, we are indeed playing hide and seek. You have five minutes to Conceal yourselves; no more than two people per hiding place are permitted. During that time, your Hufflepuff classmates will wait in my music lab; then they will come out and search the vicinity for you. Later we will reverse roles, and you will have to Unconceal them. Play against time and take it as a kind of sport: Twenty points are awarded to the team who finds the first opponent most quickly, and to the team of the person who manages to remain hidden for the longest time. To win points for your house, help each other out as a team and make sure that everybody is well hidden. Just remember that you have only five minutes to Conceal all of you."

With these words, the teacher led the Hufflepuffs inside. The Gryffindors stared at each other for a moment, unable to decide so quickly where to hide. Besides trees and shrubs, there weren't too many options available. After a few seconds, Parvati tugged Lavender's sleeve and pointed at a shrub near the building. Both girls ran up to it, Unpricked it with a quick spell and crawled underneath, giggling loudly. From within the shrub, Harry could hear Parvati say: "Chameleono!" They were hidden.

Harry was looking at the trees surrounding the building. Should they climb up one of them? The Concealment charm worked well if people did not know what to look for, but of course the Hufflepuffs knew the same spells as the Gryffindors and would easily Unconceal them if their hiding places were too obvious.

"Up the building," Seamus shouted. With the help of Neville, he lifted Dean until the boy could reach the edge of the roof. Harry heard a neighing and then the flapping of great wings; obviously, the two had disturbed the invisible Thestral up there. Dean turned around to pull Seamus up after him, while Neville gave Seamus a hand up, and Harry shoved up Seamus' rear end. Within seconds, both boys lay flat on their stomach, made as good as invisible by the camouflage spell.

Meanwhile, Hermione had been murmuring incantations; suddenly, a large hole opened in the grass beneath her feet. It widened until it was large enough to admit two people. Hermione gave Harry a questioning look. "Me and Neville in here, you two up the tree?" she asked breathlessly. Time was running out, and there were still four people to hide.

Harry nodded and pulled Ron by his wrist. He had no inclination to mess with the half-frozen, slightly muddy ground himself, so he said: "Let's take that pine tree," as most trees standing nearby had shed their leaves for the winter. Ron, taller than Harry by a good deal, helped Harry reach the lowest branch. Harry tried to climb, but, unlike many deciduous trees, the pine did not seem to be made for climbing. Wishing he had picked a different tree but knowing it was too late to change his mind now, Harry tentatively stepped on the next branch and pulled himself upwards, making room for Ron to follow. Below him, Ron found a few protruding points on the trunk to step on and pulled himself after Harry as well as he could, with Harry still being half in the way. There is nothing wrong with Ron's body, Harry thought; his disease was one of the spirit only. Harry tried to climb a bit higher so that Ron could hide his own body between the needled branches of the pine, all the while wishing that he had had the time to Unprick the pine. However, it was more important to do a Concealment charm now.

Just as Professor Varlerta left her building and counted down from ten to indicate that the Hufflepuffs were coming, Harry fumbled to get his wand and do the spell. However, made clumsy by haste, he let it slip through his fingers. At first he was relieved to see Ron catch it, but then, for the fraction of a second, fear stretched out its cold fingers towards him. His friend had not been permitted to touch a wand for more than three months. Ron's hand closed around Harry's wand; then his eyes met Harry's for a moment, which felt like an eternity. Then, very slowly, Ron handed the wand up to Harry, who cast a hasty and somewhat sloppy Concealment charm.

Coming out of the building, the Hufflepuffs immediately started to systematically search the area. Justin Finch-Fletchly looked into Parvati's and Lavender's shrub, but was deceived by their spell; Hannah Abbot, however, shot a quick Revealing spell up Ron's and Harry's tree and uncovered them at once. Addressed by her, both boys descended, or rather, they slid off the trunk in a jumble of limbs and branches. Harry felt a bit disgruntled. He knew that they were playing a competitive game, and that it lay in the nature of such games that someone had to lose. Losing was a part of sports and games; a good sportsman was a good loser. Nevertheless, as he stood on the side, watching the Hufflepuffs discover Seamus and Dean on the roof, he found it hard not to blame Ron for their unsuitable concealment. It's not Ron's fault that he is not permitted to hold a wand, that he hardly has a will of his own anymore, he told himself. While the Hufflepuffs went back to every shrub and bush nearby and finally discovered Parvati and Lavender, he watched his friend staring into nothingness. I wish the panacea was done and that he was himself again, he thought for maybe the thousandth time.

It took the Hufflepuffs a long time to find Hermione and Neville: With some spell unfamiliar to Harry, Hermione, or maybe the two of them, had managed to close up their hole in the ground and to make the grass look untouched. Harry himself could not have pointed out their exact whereabouts even if he had wanted to until Susan bones and Justin Finch-Fletchly finally cast a broad Revealing spell on the ground and discovered fine fractures in the grass. A minute later, they had managed to unearth the last two Gryffindors, who were slightly muddy, but generally cheerful.

After that, the Gryffindors went inside for seven minutes with Professor Varlerta while the Hufflepuffs hid. The teacher explained to the students that the second group would have to get a little more time to hide as the first group had already used all the obvious hiding places, making it more difficult for those who did not want to be found by them. Hermione used the time inside for reminding all her classmates of all the Discovery charms and Revealing spells she knew. Then the students went outside, trying to find the Hufflepuffs more quickly than they had been discovered themselves.

None of them Unconcealed any student as quickly as Ron and Harry had been found. However, after a while Hermione managed to discover a rudimentary Parallelus charm cast around a leafless tree. When she removed it, she found Hannah and Susan. Neville took his flute out of his pocket and started playing; suddenly, two shrubs, one of them the one Parvati and Lavender had used, practically spat out the students hidden in them. Ron found a well-camouflaged Justin Finch-Fletchly simply by stumbling over him; discovered, the boy took off his first-class Chameleon spell. After a while, the whole group had been Unconcealed, so Professor Varlerta awarded both houses twenty points: The Hufflepuffs had found their first students earlier than the Gryffindors had, but Hermione and Neville had managed to stay hidden the longest. Then the teacher ended her class, telling the students they had done a good job. All sixth years brushed the dirt from their robes and got ready to walk back to the castle, fiercely longing for hot chocolate as they realised how long they had been out in the cold.

"Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, can I have a word?" Varlerta asked as the students were leaving. Harry and Ron stopped and walked back towards her. Hermione shot them a curious look; after a nod from the teacher, she stayed behind with them.

"You had a problem up that tree, right? A wand problem?" the teacher asked Harry and Ron. Both boys nodded. Hermione, who had not witnessed the scene as she had been hidden under ground, listened attentively.

"I see you mastered it," Professor Varlerta said and gave Ron an encouraging smile. "I know everything is difficult for you - you can't do magic, you need help with everything, and the Ice Missile which hit you made you ill in another way, too. We can't trust you with a wand, and it must be horrible to know that everyone sees you as a danger. But if you think about today's event, it seems you can trust yourself, at least to a certain extent, and that is the most important thing. What's worse than if we cannot trust ourselves anymore? Well, I saw the whole thing, and it scared me for a moment. Then I saw how you two coped, and it gave me hope. I wanted you to know that, but also that we teachers are around, watching you and the other 'afflicted'. We can't be everywhere, but we do what we can to prevent danger. You are not alone in this."

Ron nodded; he looked slightly comforted. "My father...," he murmured. "If anyone knew...."

"The election worries you, too, doesn't it," Varlerta said softly. "Well, you do have a lot on your plate. But we are here to protect you as well as we can, not only from the danger within you, but also from prying ears and eyes. Nothing of what went on with you will harm your father's chances in the election; we will make that sure."

Ron nodded again. Professor Varlerta gave him an encouraging smile; then she turned to Hermione: "How are things going with the panacea? I know you are doing what you can to help."

Hermione almost smiled for a moment, but then she said: "It's hard to tell. You never know how long things take with a metaphysical substance. We are waiting for the next step of the transformation, but..." she shrugged unhappily, "time is running out."

"I know," Varlerta replied, not smiling now. Then she suddenly put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I know it sounds strange, and I know that you really do not need any more pressure, but please do what you can to learn all about Alchemy in the time that is left. Once Nicholas and Perenelle have passed away, you will be the last person in this country, if not in the world, who may still know what to do. Normally, Dumbledore would, because he studied Alchemy, too, and he might still be able to advise you. However, he is ill himself and cannot do any Alchemy work now - that would be far too dangerous."

Hermione bit her bottom lip and nodded, her eyes on her mud-splattered shoes. Then she replied: "I'm going to the lab now." Without another word, she turned on her heels and walked towards the castle.

"Try to get some rest, you two," Varlerta said to Harry and Ron, sounding a little weary herself. "You look like you need it."

"Sure, I'll bring him up the tower," Harry replied dutifully.

"You, too, Harry," the teacher replied. "I know you are working for two, and like all your teachers, I appreciate it. Remember, you have to take care of yourself to be able to take care of others." Then she gave the students a parting nod and walked up to the door of her building, wiping her muddy dragon-hide boots before she entered.

"Let's go and take an afternoon nap," Harry said to Ron, feeling once more duty-bound.

Obediently, Ron followed him, but when they reached the castle's door, he said: "I need to go to the hospital wing."

Ron's statement made Harry slightly uncomfortable, but rather than questioning it, he walked up to Madam Pomfrey's realm together with Ron, expecting his friend to need some kind of treatment.

Instead of seeking the aid of the matron, however, Ron went straight to the bed in which his brother Fred was still lying, staring at the ceiling all day. Ron sat down on the edge of the bed; Harry stood by and watched, wondering what would happen next. For a long time, nobody said anything. Finally, Ron said in a quiet, low voice:

"I think I know what is wrong with me."

Fred turned his head to look at him, but he didn't respond. Harry realised that Fred's condition must have worsened over the last few weeks. Again, he desperately wished for the panacea to be ready.

Ron tried again: "I want to know whether it's the same thing that's wrong with you."

Fred blinked in slow motion; perhaps he meant this as a sign that he understood.

After a long, long pause, Ron finally asked: "Have you lost all your energy because you are trying to stay passive, not to do anything terrible?"

Again, Fred lowered his eyelids.

Ron asked: "If you see your friends and your family, do you ever picture yourself with a wand in your hand, harming them, killing them, cursing them to death?"

Fred hesitated; then he said slowly: "All the time." He did not raise his voice, or show any emotion, but still Harry felt a pain as sharp as a cut when Fred repeated: "All the time."

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