Harry Potter and the Daoimear de Dán

Chapter One- In Which We Set Our Scene

Halloween 1981, Godric's Hollow.

"Get out of the way!" Lord Voldemort's voice was harsh and tight as he attempted to bat Lily Potter out of his way.

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily refused to back down and stood fast in front of her son.

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-" she insisted, her voice strangely calm and composed. Within seconds, a green flash of light had ended Lily Potter's life. Within a minute, Voldemort was gone and Harry was safe. Lily had saved her son's life at the expense of her own.

***

1st November 1981. London, England.

A young woman slumped into the corner booth in Egan's public house, Kilburn, earning a questioning look from the person already sitting there.

"She's dead. I just heard," she told the silver-haired woman sitting opposite.

"Dead? Truly? How?" the older woman asked.

"The wizard who's been terrorising the magical community for a decade. It seems to be that her son stopped him."

"The wizard's gone?"

"Yes."

"That's a cause for celebration! The drinks are on me!" the older woman said, slapping a five pound note on the table.

"But she's dead. What are we to do?" the young woman pressed on.

"Find the next one. There's always another," the older woman said calmly.

"But..."

"No buts, Clara. We will prepare tonight."

***

The room was ready. The older woman now wore heavy looking ceremonial robes of deepest green, an ornate gold brooch holding them together.

"Are we ready?" she asked. The girl known as Clara nodded.

"Yes Grandmother. We're ready."

The old woman knelt down in front of something that looked a little bit like a pensieve. But unlike such a wizard item, the bowl was covered in ancient Gaelic script rather than runes.

She began chanting very softly in a language so old that many considered it to be lost forever. Even the language derived from it was now only spoken in a very small area of Ireland by a minority.

She put her hands into the bowl and pitched forward quite dramatically. Just as it looked like she would fall face down into the bowl, she sat up again, quite clearly in a trance.

"Daughters of Maeve... She who will save us has come," she said in a voice that was not her own. "She will bring destruction and death or love and peace."

Then she pitched forward again and this time didn't pull back.

"Grandmother!" Clara exclaimed. The old woman sat up, slightly dazed but looking quite pleased.

"The one we've been waiting for has arrived, and right here in Kilburn," she said. "Get my coat, Clara. We're off to pay our respects to the Heir before we welcome the new one."

***

"She's just a child!" Clara exclaimed. Her grandmother had just taken her to see the new Heir. She had turned out to be a small girl of two years.

"You're just a child," her grandmother sounded distinctly amused.

"I'm twenty three!"

"She will be much the same age when she must face her destiny."

"But she's so unpleasant! Did you see what she did to the other child? She actually pulled chunks of his hair out! I'm sure I saw some scalp too!"

"Clara, do calm down. Much can happen in fifteen years. She will be ready."

"Oh she will?" Clara sounded particularly sceptical.

"I have no doubt. She is the Heir. It is her destiny."

"But what of the other child? The boy who lived?"

"He is not our concern."

"But he's the Heir's son! He stopped that Lord Thingy!" Clara stumbled upon thinking of the name.

"Voldemort, dear."

"Yes, him. That's not normal. I did some research and nobody has ever survived that curse. Until now," she said ominously.

"Yes. His mother really was very powerful. These things happen for a reason. Although I'm disappointed that the new Heir is not magical."

"We should've protected Lily Evans more closely."

"That would have given us away. I think she had more pressing matters to deal with. But be assured, when this supposed Lord returns, which I'm sure he will, he will deal with our wrath. The new Heir will avenge the death of the old. That is the way it has always been done and the way it will continue to be done," the old woman told her.

"But what happens in the meantime?"

"I suggest a pint of stout," the older woman said with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm terribly thirsty."

***

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. September 1997.

It was the start of a new school year at Hogwarts. For Harry Potter and his friends, it was also the last year that they would spend at the school. His best friend Hermione Granger had been named Head Girl, surprising nobody, while he was continuing the job he'd held since sixth year: Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.

"Here, Harry!" Ron whispered as the Sorting went on. Harry turned to his other best friend, Ron Weasley.

"Yes?"

"Ginny just gave me the pictures," he said, waving a sheaf of pictures at him.

"From Fred and Angelina's wedding?" cut in Hermione. Two weeks previously, Ron's older brother Fred had married his girlfriend Angelina Johnson at the Burrow.

"Yeah. There's some of you here, look!" said Ron, flicking a picture over to Hermione and passing some of them to Harry.

"I can't believe what the Daily Prophet did," hissed Harry. Ron just smiled supportively. A report in the Daily Prophet about the wedding had turned into another 'The Wonder of Harry Potter' articles, barely even mentioning the newlyweds. This despite Fred being one of the most successful young businessmen in magical Britain and Angelina being the star chaser for the Chudley Cannons.

"Fred and Angie didn't mind. Found it funny, actually," he said.

"They find everything funny."

"Shh!" Hermione suddenly cut in. Turning to glare at her, Harry realised that the Sorting was over and Professor Dumbledore had begun speaking.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he began in his usual friendly tones. "This year, I'm pleased to announce that Professor Figg is returning as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Cheering filled the room. Professor Arabella Figg (Mrs Figg to Harry and a member of the Order of the Phoenix) had joined the staff as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher the year before and was breaking a record by returning for a second year.

"The Dark Forest," continued Dumbledore, "is still out of bounds to all students. This year, I am pleased to announce that the positions of Head Boy and Head Girl have been filled by Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger."

Polite clapping filled the room although it was decidedly noisier at the Gryffindor table.

"And now, let the feast begin!"

Food filled the plates and bowls on every table and noisy chatter filled the room as everyone continued catching up on their summer news. Harry, Hermione and Ron had shared a compartment on the train and had done most of their catching up already.

"Are they back from Egypt yet?" Hermione asked Ron. Fred and Angelina had gone to Egypt for their honeymoon, courtesy of eldest Weasley brother Bill.

"Yeah. They only stayed for twelve days. Fred didn't want to leave the Wheezes in George's care for too long."

"How is George?" asked Harry. "Still going out with the date he took to the wedding?"

"Jade? Yeah. She's quite nice actually, stayed over at the Burrow last week. Shame you had to go back to the Dursleys."

"Yeah," Harry agreed fervently. "Although they were almost pleasant to me once I got back."

"They were?" asked Hermione curiously, for the Dursleys were not known for goodwill towards their nephew.

"Yes. I think it was because I'd spent time with my terrifying convict godfather."

"How is Snuffles by the way?"

"Fine, I think. He got the Marauders Map back somehow. He gave it to me with strict instructions to get up to plenty of mischief. Oh, and he said he'd talk to me through the fire the day after tomorrow."

***

The next two days passed quite quickly as everyone settled back into school life. Harry found himself glad as always to be back and once again marvelled at how much more like home Hogwarts was when compared to Privet Drive. On the third day back at school, the late hours of the night found Harry in the common room with Ron and Hermione, waiting for Sirius' head to appear in the fire.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed as his head popped into view. "Sorry I'm late."

"Dementor troubles?"

"No. But I have had news that the Death Eaters are stepping up their recruitment."

"I know," Harry said. "One of the Slytherins got a black letter today."

"They're recruiting students now? Already?" Sirius looked surprised and dismayed. "What happened?"

"Professor Dumbledore calmed the girl down. She was hysterical. I know Blaise. She's really quite nice once you get past the Slytherin thing," said Hermione.

"Good. You all need to stick together better than ever before," said Sirius sagely. "How about the Malfoy boy?"

"He's..." Harry trailed off. How had Draco been? He hadn't noticed. Which was odd. "He's been very quiet. Which I don't like in the slightest."

"Perhaps you could keep an eye on him. Lucius Malfoy is a black-hearted, evil blond... git!" snarled Sirius.

"How are you, Sirius?" Harry asked seriously. Sirius smiled his most winning smile.

"Fine. I've been hiding out at Remus' house. He says hello to all of you by the way."

"Is he OK?"

"He's fine. Better now that I can accompany him on Full Moons. I'd forgotten how much I missed all that, you know."

"I know," Harry nodded. Sirius smiled again, a little sadly. Then he remembered something. "Oh Harry, Remus found this book at his house. It was your mother's. Perhaps you'd like it?"

Sirius' hand materialised in the flames and Harry took the book from him.

"The Táin Bó Cuailnge," Harry read out, attempting the correct pronunciation although he had no idea if he got it right. He handed it to Hermione, who immediately began flicking through it.

"The title means 'The Cattle Raid of Cooley'." Sirius added. "I don't know why she gave it to Moony, but she gave it to him when they packed up before going to the Hollow," Sirius trailed off as he thought back to those times.

"Thank you Sirius," said Harry with a warm smile.

"I'll see you soon, I hope."

"I hope so too. Look after yourself," Harry instructed.

"Of course. You do the same."

Then Sirius was gone. Harry turned to his friends.

"Why did my mother leave me a book?"

"I think the question should be why did she leave you this book," Ron said.

"I don't know much about ancient Ireland," began Hermione.

"Finally, something she doesn't know!" Ron exclaimed triumphantly. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"But I think that this is about a war between clans. I'll look in the library tomorrow for you, if you like."

"Thanks," Harry smiled at her.

"It's late. I'm going to bed," she told them.

"Night Hermione," they both said before she headed up the stairs.

"You know, I think she gets prettier every day," said Ron. Harry looked at him quite surprised at the turn the conversation had taken.

"You think so?"

"Don't you? I'm not saying I fancy her... I don't. I mean, we drive each other crackers half the time, but I mean, there's no mistaking her as anything other than a girl now, is there? Not like during Fourth year and the Yule Ball."

"That was a particularly smooth moment on your part," said Harry with a smirk. "So, you think she's pretty?"

"Yes. Didn't you see her at the wedding?" asked Ron. Harry's cheeks went slightly pink. He had noticed Hermione at the wedding.

"Yes. I know what you mean," he admitted. "But she's Hermione, Ron. She's our best friend."

"Yeah? And?" Ron asked, looking for all the world as if he could tell what Harry was thinking. "Does that mean we're not allowed to notice?"

"Suppose not," said Harry, yawning loudly. "I'm going to bed."

"I'll be up soon. I want to finish reading this feature on Angelina and the chasers," Ron told him, holding up Cannon Fodder, the official Chudley Cannons supporters' magazine.

"I'll leave you with it then. Night Ron."

"Night Harry," he mumbled, becoming engrossed in the magazine.

***

"Morning children!" Harry called as he sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, his hair still glistening with beads of water.

"Embargo on towels, is there?" Hermione cracked.

"I woke up late, and I had to shower. But I don't want to miss the most important meal of the day now, do I?"

"Quite true. But the back of your robe is soaking."

"It'll dry."

"It's September. You'll catch a cold," Hermione said, handing Parvati the toast.

"I'll go to Madam Pomfrey for Pepper-Up Potion."

"What if she doesn't give you any when she finds out how you got sick?"

"I'll sneeze all over you!" he shot back. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"That's disgusting! God, you boys!"

"It was a joke!"

"You really know the way to a girl's heart, don't you Harry?" asked Parvati through her laughter. "Germs."

The assembled Gryffindors all laughed loudly.

"It's Mock Potter Week again, isn't it?" Harry asked. "Did I not get the flyer again?"

"Aww, are little Harry's feelings hurt?" Ron asked. Harry sniffed sadly, although his eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Yes."

"Oh Harry," Hermione started "while you're in Divination this morning, I'll go and find out about that book for you."

"Don't you have Arithmancy this morning?" asked Ron. She shook her head.

"Professor Vector gave us a free lesson for research. But I can do that later. I'll research this first."

"Thanks. I still can't imagine why my mother left me a book," said Harry.

"Well, I'll try and find out."

"Mr Potter!" Professor McGonagall called out, walking briskly over to them.

"Yes Professor?"

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you. You may miss Divination," she said. Harry could've sworn he saw a slight twinkle in her eye, knowing her disdain for Divination.

"Yes, Professor."

"What do you suppose it's about?" Ron asked.

"Probably Sirius. He knows I spoke to him yesterday. I should go up now. See you later."

"Come to the library when you've finished," Hermione told him. "You can help me."

"All right," he said with a nod. Then he headed out of the Great Hall.

***

After a brief meeting with Dumbledore, Harry went into the near-deserted library and headed to the table he knew he would find Hermione at- a secluded table by the window, far from the prying eyes of other students or Madam Pince.

"Found anything?" he asked. She jumped a foot in the air.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" she hissed. He grinned and sat down opposite her.

"Sorry. Did you find anything?"

"Lots. But nothing I can possibly link to your mother. This stuff happened at the same time that Jesus was around. Battles between clans, cattle and all kinds of odd stuff."

"What's it about?"

"It's a story. Apparently it's the oldest story in Europe that was written in the vernacular... Vernacular means..."

"Written in the language of the common people," Harry finished for her. "I was awake in that class too."

"Oh. Well anyway, it's about a cattle raid..."

"So it's not just a clever title?"

"Shut up. Queen Maeve of Connaught was equal to her husband in wealth except for a white bull he owned. She wanted a bull of equal worth, but the only one was in Ulster. the Brown Bull of Cooley. It belonged to King Conochobar, who it turns out, she was married to, or was to be married to or something... It's terribly confusing. Connaught and Ulster had a deep hatred going on, and there's a curse and the son of a god and..." Hermione sighed.

"Not bad for fifteen minutes reading," he said, impressed.

"There's so much! Everyone says it slightly differently. All I can tell is that there's a Queen called Maeve and a King called Conor and his warrior Cu Chulainn. And I'm not even sure how to pronounce most of the words."

"Well, give me a book," Harry instructed her. "And we'll get Ron on it too."

"All right," she handed him a heavy looking book. "Are you sure? I mean, maybe it's just a book."

"Yes. But you might remember that my parents' house was destroyed, along with everything in it. My father gave Dumbledore the cloak for safekeeping, so why did my mother feel she needed to give Remus the book?"

"Maybe he just borrowed it from her before, you know."

"No, that's not what Sirius said. And her name was Evans, that's Welsh, isn't it?"

"Yes. But it's entirely possible that somewhere along the line she has Irish ancestors. I know I do," she said conversationally.

"You do?"

"Yes. My great-grandmother's family came to England during the potato famine. I bet over half the people in Britain have Irish in them."

"Oh. But why my mother? Why would she have this book?"

"I don't know. But if you keep asking me all these questions, we won't get to read and find the answers."

"Sorry," he said before focusing his attention on the book in front of him. Perhaps not all his attention, his mind told him as he looked over at the bushy haired girl sitting opposite.

***

They didn't look up until lunchtime, when Ron arrived.

"Haven't you found anything yet?"

"Lots, Ron. None of it useful. But if you want to know about Pre-Neolithic ruins in County Louth, I'm your girl," said Hermione dryly.

"Let's stop," declared Harry. "I'm starving."

"Me too," said Hermione, admitting defeat for the time being. They trooped out of the library and down into the Great Hall.

"I just... I know there's a reason she kept the book safe," Harry said.

"I know, and we'll find it," said Hermione reassuringly. He smiled at her.

"Yeah. I know."

"Cheer up Harry!" she said brightly. "We'll come back after lunch. The answer's here, we just have to find it."

***

Hours later, while most students were settled into their common rooms enjoying riotous games of Exploding Snap or the latest Witch Weekly, Harry, Hermione and Ron were still in the library reading. Ron looked as if he needed matchsticks to keep his eyes open, Harry's hair was even more messy from his grabbing it in frustration and even Hermione looked like she wanted to be far away from any sort of book.

"Can we go? Please?" Ron begged. Hermione shook her head.

"Just let me finish this one book," she said. Ron and Harry both sighed and put their books down. She read for a few more minutes and then threw the book down with a sigh of frustration. "Nothing!"

"Come on Hermione, let's get you away from all the nasty books," said Harry, pulling her out of her chair. They got up and went back to Gryffindor Tower, where they found a rowdy game of Exploding Snap being played between the First and Second Years.

"You want to go upstairs?" Harry suggested, not liking the noise after the serenity of the library. They nodded immediately and they went up to the Seventh Year boys' dormitory. Seamus and Dean were there but when Hermione (a girl) walked in, they didn't bat an eyelid. She was 'one of the boys', after all.

"I can't believe we didn't find anything useful," she said, slumping onto Harry's bed.

"Maybe we're looking wrong," suggested Ron.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, hopping onto his bed beside Hermione.

"Maybe we're being too obvious. Maybe it's not what's in the book but something more subtle."

"Like what?"

"No idea." Ron sighed heavily.

"Something wrong, kiddies?" Seamus asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"No. Well, I don't think so," Harry said despondently. "Hang on a minute! Seamus! You're Irish!"

"Have been for a while now," he said with a charming smile. "Your point?"

"What do you know about the Cattle Raid of Cooley?"

"Not a lot. Why? Is it for a class?" Seamus looked panicked, worried that he'd forgotten some important piece of homework.

"No. Harry got given a book yesterday, and we want to know why," Hermione told him.

"Oh. Well, I don't know.... Some queen went after a bull she wanted and only Cu Chulainn could fight her because of some curse..."

"We know all that," Hermione said irritably. "Why would Harry be given a book about something that happened two thousand years ago?"

"I don't know. Although I remember my mam telling me how the descendants of Queen Maeve still walked the Earth. Apparently at some point they took on the job of Guardians or something..."

"Yes?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"I don't know, I never listen to my mam," Seamus said with a laugh. "But I remember her telling me that there was always one person in the world chosen as her Heir..."

"Sounds familiar," said Harry dryly, thinking of Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin.

"But not in a bad way. They're like a protector or something."

"Like the Vampire Slayer?" Hermione asked, thinking now of one of their most recent Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, which had been about vampires and the girl who fought them.

"I guess. I really don't know very much about it though," Seamus said apologetically. Hermione looked like she wanted to kiss him.

"I think you've been wonderful Seamus," she exclaimed excitedly. "Come on, back to the library!"

"Not on your life," said Ron.

"You've got to be kidding," Harry added.

"Come on!" she whined. "I know what we need to look for now!"

"We can't be out of the tower now. We'll get into trouble, Little Miss Head Girl," Harry reminded her.

"Oh fine!" she said, quite annoyed. "I'm sure it can just wait until tomorrow, it's not like you think it's important or anything." she said before storming out of the room.

Harry got up to follow her.

"Hermione!" he called as she walked down the stairs. She turned.

"Yes, Prefect Potter?" she asked, annoyed. He smiled brightly at her.

"We can go later if you like, I'll bring the cloak. I just didn't want to bring it up in front of Seamus and Dean."

"All right. I didn't mean to get annoyed like that. But we've been reading all day and I finally think I know what we're looking for."

"Restricted section?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Oh. Damn."

Hermione giggled.

"Meet you in the common room at midnight?" she asked with an excited grin.

"Yeah. I'll tell Ron."

"OK. Well, until then, good night."

***

Hermione found it incredibly easy to get out of her dorm that night- the other girls were exhausted from a hard day's work. She slipped down the stairs into the common room to find Harry sitting by the dying embers of the fire, silvery invisibility cloak in his hand.

"Where's Ron?"

"Fast asleep. I didn't want to wake him up."

"Of course. Well, we can do this on our own, I suppose."

"OK," he said, standing up. He threw the cloak over them and checked the Marauders Map.

"Filch is in the West Tower. We should be good for a while," he whispered before they headed out of the tower towards the library

"If we get into trouble, I'm blaming it on you, by the way," Harry told her.

"I don't care."

"Me and Ron really did a good job of corrupting you, didn't we?"

"Yes. So good that I don't even mind," she whispered back. He could feel her breath on his cheek. They got to the library quickly and ran inside. Once securely out of sight of anyone, they slipped off the cloak and Hermione headed straight for books about myths and legends. She was only reading for a moment when she found what she was looking for.

"The Heir of Maeve. A mythological figure found one in every generation. Nurtured by the Guardians, the Heir is traditionally a woman. There is no evidence to prove the existence of the Heir, but myths purport her to be a protector of humanity, fighting evil when required," read Hermione. "Could your mother have been the Heir of Maeve?"

"My mother?"

"Yes. Think about it, after two thousand years, the Heir could be one of thousands if people. How many descendants of Queen Maeve must there be by now?"

"Maybe," Harry still looked a little sceptical.

"It would explain why she had the book. It must have been given to her by these Guardian people. It's incredibly old, after all."

"But if she was the Heir and she died, doesn't that mean that I'm...? No, I cannot be the Heir of Maeve! I have enough to deal with as it is." Harry said vehemently.

"You're probably not. The book says it's usually women. Maybe another girl descendant of Maeve was called when your mother died. Like the Slayer? Remember what Professor Figg said? One dies and another is chosen?"

"But what does this have to do with me?"

"Perhaps you need to find this Heir to help you or something. Perhaps you could ask Professor Dumbledore?"

"I could. He didn't seem surprised about the book when I told him about it."

"Well then, there you go," she said with a satisfied grin. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Course." he went to throw the cloak over them, but stopped and looked at her. "Thank you for helping me."

"What are friends for?"

"I think a midnight flit to the library is above and beyond the call of friendship," he said.

"No, helping you through First year was above and beyond. I find that everything since seems to pale in comparison."

"It was a bit much for eleven year olds to deal with, wasn't it?"

"I think so. I think you did admirably, by the way."

"Thanks," he blushed as he always did when complimented like that. "You did pretty well yourself. I always wondered what Snape's reaction was when he heard that you'd solved his potion riddle thing."

"I don't know, but I've got a very good idea."

"A look that said 'I'm eating wasps while being forced to listen to the Greatest Hits of Leo Sayer'?"

"Something like that," she said with a giggle. "Come on, we should get back."

"All right," he said, throwing the cloak over them both. They walked back to the tower at a considerably slower pace than they had walked in the opposite direction.

"Night Harry," she smiled at him briefly before going up to the girls' dormitory. Sighing a little, he went to his own dorm.

***

Harry planned to speak to Dumbledore before classes began, but when he arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, the Headmaster was already waiting to speak to him. He looked quite odd, sitting at the Gryffindor table amongst the students.

"Professor Dumbledore?"

"Ah, Harry!" he said, his eyes sparkling. "Miss Granger tells me you have a few questions for me regarding your book?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, why don't the two of you come with me and discuss it now?" he suggested. They nodded eagerly and followed him out of the room. They followed him through the castle and into his office (Password: Sherbet Dip). They sat down and Fawkes immediately flew from his perch to greet Harry.

"Hey, Fawkes!" he said, grinning. "How's life?" A few feathers fell from Fawkes' wings and he let out a solitary mournful note.

"Burning Day soon?" Harry guessed. Fawkes seemed to nod before going back to his perch.

"So, Harry, Hermione?" the Professor began. "What have you found?"

"Well, we've found something about the Heir of Maeve," Hermione began.

"And you're wondering if Lily was the Heir?" Dumbledore guessed. "I believe she was."

"Is that why..." Harry paused. "Why Voldemort didn't want to kill her?"

"How do you know?" Dumbledore asked gently.

"When the Dementors were around, I heard it all. He didn't want to kill her at all. But she refused to let him take me," he choked out. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I think it's certainly possible. From my limited knowledge of these matters, I imagine that the Guardians of the Heir would be most displeased to learn of her death. A witch with such ancient power is a formidable ally."

"That's why her protection was so powerful!" Hermione exclaimed, the pieces sliding together in her mind.

"It's entirely possible," Dumbledore said. "I imagine she kept the book safe with Remus Lupin so that you would find all this out eventually."

"Yes," Harry looked down at the floor. His mother had been something really special, but she died for him just the same. He didn't quite know how to take that.

"What about the new Heir?" Hermione asked. "Do you know who she is?"

"Alas, no. The Guardians are an ancient people, quite different from wizards. They keep to themselves. Usually, we are all left unaware as to who the Heir is. Her job is to keep the world safe with the minimum of fuss."

"Do you suppose there's a link?" asked Harry.

"A link, Harry?"

"Between the Heir and me. That protection she gave me, perhaps it wasn't entirely magical in origin..." Harry paused, trying to articulate what he meant. "That maybe this Heir is supposed to help fight Voldemort."

"It's possible," Dumbledore said gently. "But we will only find out if she approaches us, I'm afraid."

"Oh." Harry sighed rather despairingly.

"Don't despair Harry," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Everything, I find, happens for a reason. Now you really should get along to class."

"Potions!" Hermione exclaimed. "Professor Snape is going to kill us!"

"I doubt that, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, laughter in his voice. "Especially when you give him this note."

"Thank you Professor," she mumbled, a little embarrassed. Then Harry and Hermione left the Headmaster's office.

Hermione began walking swiftly down the hall.

"Hermione! Why are you rushing?"

"Because we'll be late!"

"We've got a note, silly. Let's take a nice leisurely walk down to the dungeons," he began dawdling along the hall. She sighed, but slowed down just the same.

"You really are a terrible influence on me, Harry Potter."

"I know."

"I shall tell Witch Weekly that the wonderful Harry Potter is incredibly naughty, you know."

"You wouldn't!"

"I would," she said. He laughed lightly.

"I wish you would. Maybe then they'd leave me alone. I still have nightmares about being trapped in a cupboard with Rita Skeeter."

"Well, I think her nightmares include me now," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Did you ever set her free?"

"Worse. I gave her to Professor McGonagall."

"What happened then?"

"I don't know," she paused and grinned wickedly. "Do cats like beetles?"

"There's a underlying wickedness under that bookish exterior, isn't there?"

"Absolutely," she giggled. They had arrived at the Potions dungeon and went inside. Professor Snape stopped talking.

"How lovely of you to join us," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We have a note from Professor Dumbledore, Professor," Hermione said in an appropriately meek voice. Snape snatched it from her hand and began examining it. When he had determined that it wasn't in fact a fake, he continued the lesson.

"Where've you been?" Ron hissed quietly.

"Dumbledore wanted to ask us about the book."

"Oh," said Ron, clearly quite disappointed that he hadn't been included in the discussion.

"Sorry," whispered Harry. Ron went to speak, but at that moment, Snape turned his attention to them.

***

"We're sorry, Ron!" Harry exclaimed at lunch. "You weren't there!"

The argument they'd had to suspend during Potions had resumed at lunch.

"So?" Ron said, dimly aware that he was being quite unreasonable. "First you left me out last night and now this morning!"

"We didn't go out of our way to keep you out, Ron," Hermione said. "If you recall, you were meant to come with us last night, but you fell asleep. And I didn't really feel that we could ask the Headmaster to wait for you this morning. It was more important than that."

"Oh, I do apologise," Ron said sarcastically. "I didn't realise that some stupid book was more important than friendship."

"Oh Ron! Don't twist my words like that!" she exclaimed angrily. "I'm very sorry you weren't there! I'm very sorry you had to spend five more minutes in Potions than us! I'm sorry! Is there anything else you'd like me to apologise for? The sacking of Rome perhaps? The break up of the Beatles? Eighteen years of Conservative rule?"

She jumped up from the table and stormed out angrily.

"Did you have to, Ron?" Harry asked, trying to keep the angry edge out of his voice.

"What did I do?"

"What did you do? You shouted at her!"

"I've shouted at her before."

"Yes, and not once did it endear you to her. We didn't mean for you to get left out. She was trying to apologise to you and you just kept at her," Harry felt himself getting quite angry and fought to keep his temper. Then he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked.

"I'm going to see if she's all right," replied Harry.

"Oh fine, leave me again."

"I'm not leaving you, Ron! Bloody Hell!" Harry got completely exasperated. "I just want to make sure she's all right."

Ron seemed to calm down a little bit.

"I'm sorry. You should go," he said, nodding his head. Harry managed a tight smile before heading out of the Great Hall.

***

"Harry?" Hermione asked, surprised to see him. She was sitting on a desk in an empty classroom near Transfiguration.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes of course I am."

"You seemed pretty upset when you left."

"I wasn't upset, I was angry. I left so I didn't say something I'd regret. I thought you'd be with Ron."

"Nah, he needs to calm down on his own. I thought you were really upset."

"Well I am. I don't like fighting with my friends," she said.

"I know."

"Come on, we have Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall threatened to turn any latecomers into pincushions," she told him as she jumped off the table.

"We can't do much if we're pincushions, I suppose," he remarked.

"Well, it's like the good Professor says, everything happens for a reason," she joked.

"Yeah. But are they good reasons or not?" he asked rather more seriously.

"That remains to be seen, I suppose," she said as they went into Transfiguration and sat down, waiting for class to begin.

Once Hermione and Ron had reconciled that evening, both apologising profusely to the other, their world was back on an even keel. Harry almost managed to forget the whole Heir of Maeve thing, but just as it was slipping from his mind, the girl turned up.

***