Harry Potter and the Daoimear de Dán

Chapter Two- Ice and Fire

From the moment Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the Great Hall for dinner a week after receiving the book, they wondered who the woman sitting with Dumbledore was. She didn't look much older than them, certainly no more than twenty years old. Most of the people in the Hall were looking at the strange girl, and chattering amongst themselves about her. Normally when there were guests at the castle, Professor Dumbledore would introduce them to everyone, but he had remained unusually silent on this occasion.

"Who is she?" asked Hermione.

"No idea, Hermione," said Harry with a slight smile. "I'm not omniscient."

The woman was familiar looking- red hair, blue eyes, pale skin. She looked like...

"She looks like my mum," Harry said suddenly. It was true, to an extent. Aside from their eyes, Lily and this mystery woman had the same colouring and their noses were similar, but this person seemed infinitely colder than the Lily Potter Harry had conjured in his mind from photos and stories.

"Do you think..." Hermione trailed off, aware that they were surrounded by other students.

"Could be. We'll just have to wait and see, I suppose."

They finished their food, the three deliberately lingering longer than the other Gryffindors, who were eager to get back to the tower. Just as Hermione finished her peas, Dumbledore and the woman came over.

"A word, please," Dumbledore said. The three got up and followed him out. But they did not head to his office. Instead he took them into the empty Charms classroom.

"Harry, this is Maura Kennealy," the Professor began. "Miss Kennealy, this is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

"Hello," the woman said gruffly. Now that she was closer, Harry and his friends realised that she was younger than she had at first appeared. Eighteen, perhaps.

"Hello," he answered, extending his hand. She did not take it for a long moment, before reluctantly shaking his hand.

"You're the Heir of Maeve," Hermione guessed. The girl glared at Hermione for a moment before simply nodding her head.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked concerned.

"I'm here to avenge the death of the previous Heir."

"What she means, Harry, is that she wants you to help her defeat Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore said.

"I'm sorry, I thought I heard you say she wanted me to help her," he said, a little confused. "I was under the impression that Voldemort was my problem."

"That's where you're wrong, little boy," Maura snarled. "It's my job to avenge the Heir's death. Which means I do the defeating."

"I don't think so!" Harry said hotly, feeling anger surge through him. Who was this sneering girl to tell him what to do and what not to do?

"Stop it!" Hermione said loudly, startling all of them, including Professor Dumbledore.

"Arguing will get us nowhere," she said in a low, controlled voice. "Maura, are you going to be staying here?"

"It seems that way," she said.

"Well then, there's nothing here that can't wait until morning when we've all had time to think about it and digest the new information."

"A good idea, Miss Granger. Miss Kennealy, might I show you to your guest room?"

"Fine," she said, not as rudely as she had spoken to Harry. She followed Dumbledore out of the classroom and they disappeared down the hall.

"Come on Harry, back to the tower with you," Hermione said, her voice gentle now. He looked a little shell shocked, so she tugged on his arm. Ron joined her.

"Are you all right, mate?" he asked. Harry nodded dumbly and allowed them to lead him out of the room and up to the Gryffindor tower.

***

Harry couldn't sleep. He knew he wasn't likely to get to sleep any time soon and so gave up trying. He slipped silently out of the dorm, careful not to wake any of his roommates. He headed down the stairs and into the deserted common room. The fire had completely gone out by now and he shivered slightly as he sat down. Igniting it easily with his wand, he watched as the flames flickered, casting strange shadows across the room.

He let out a long, sad sigh. It was his job to kill Voldemort! It was one of the only things he was sure about these days. He knew that Voldemort was after him and he knew that he was after Voldemort. He didn't expect to do it all on his own, of course, but it was his job, his destiny. Yet now this surly girl had turned up demanding to do it herself. Who was she to tell him what to do?

"Nobody, that's who," he said to himself.

"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know," a soft voice called out to him. He turned around in surprise. Standing at the foot of the stairs was Hermione, wrapped tightly in her purple dressing gown.

"What are you doing awake?"

"What are you doing awake?"

"Thinking about that stupid girl," he admitted.

"Same here," she said settling down next to him in front of the fire. "Let me guess... You think it's your job to vanquish the evil Lord Voldemort?"

"Yeah."

"And the idea that this other person, this girl intends to do it just irritates the Hell out of you."

"Correct again."

"Why?"

"Because... Lots of things."

"Tell me."

"Do you charge by the hour?"

"Depends on what you're implying."

"Psycho-analysis, Granger. Although I think I can tell where your mind is right now."

"Shut up, Potter and just tell me."

"Fine. I think it's my job because he killed my parents. Because I couldn't finish him off the first time."

"You were one, Harry."

"But still... And because he's been after me for years. Because I'm the reason Cedric's dead and because Sirius is still on the run and because.... Because it's the only thing I'm really certain of."

"Oh. That's quite a list," she said very gently. "But perhaps neither of you can do the job without the other."

"What do you mean?"

"She has ancient powers we don't even know about. Surely they're similar to whatever your mother did to save you. And you have an advantage over her."

"Like what?"

"Like you've faced him before several times and survived to tell the tale. Like you're the one he wants to face. He won't care about some random redhead coming after him. But he does care about you. And let's not forget, two heads are better than one."

"But why does it have to be her? She was... I mean, she was so rude!"

"I know. We'll find out what her problem is and deal with it," Hermione reassured him. "Now get to bed, Potter."

"I can't sleep," he said. "I won't be able to for hours."

"Well, I'll just stay here with you,"

"You don't have to."

"I know. But I'm going to anyway," she replied.

***

Harry and Hermione eventually headed off to bed at five, both thoroughly exhausted after spending their night talking about everything and, it seemed, nothing. It took its toll however, when they were expected at breakfast two hours later.

"You both look knackered," Dean commented as the two stumbled into breakfast yawning loudly.

"Look shagged out, more like," Seamus said with a wicked cackle.

"Aren't you bloody funny?" Harry replied in the particularly harsh tones of the sleep-deprived.

"And touchy about it too," Neville added.

"Leave him alone," Hermione said. "If you must know, we were up talking,"

This received laughs from most of the table.

"Right..." smirked Lavender. "We believe you."

"We're not even going out together," Harry said, pulling at a bread roll.

"I know, we're just having you on," Lavender told them.

"It's so easy when they're this knackered," Ron cut in for the first time.

"Does anyone know who that bird is?" Seamus asked, pointing at Maura Kennealy.

"Someone to see Dumbledore, I think," said Harry. Seamus accepted this readily, failing to notice the uneasy looks that passed between Ron, Harry and Hermione.

"What are you going to do?" asked Hermione in a whisper.

"What you said yesterday," Harry replied. "I'll talk to her rationally and calmly."

"There's my boy!" she said with a smirk.

"When are you supposed to be meeting her?" asked Ron. Harry shrugged.

"Don't know,"

"Well, I hope you don't miss any more classes. Honestly, you've missed more than you've turned up for recently," said Hermione. Harry fixed her with a questioning look.

"You didn't seem to mind taking the long way to Potions the other day."

Hermione looked deeply chagrined at this, as if he had just revealed her deepest secret.

"Potions is different," she said. Harry and Ron exchanged knowing looks.

"If you say so," said Harry.

"I do say so. You're going to be late for Divination," she said, getting up.

"Oh, Heavens forfend!" Harry said dramatically, clutching at his breast.

"I know! Imagine Harry being late to a prediction of his own death," added Ron dryly.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Boys!" she sighed heavily before she picked up her books and went to leave. "I'll see you in History?"

"Oh, we'll be there," said Harry.

"Won't want to, but will," finished Ron, neither being able to summon up enough enthusiasm for sarcasm.

***

Harry was wondering when he would be summoned to Dumbledore's office to speak to the girl. He spent the entire duration of Divination with his eye on the door, but to no avail. He dawdled into the History of Magic class, wishing and hoping that he'd have an excuse to get out of Professor Binns' class.

"You look like you've just been told Quidditch has been cancelled," Hermione remarked as he sat down and slumped in his seat.

"I don't think I can face another hour on the Red Cap Uprising of 1919," he groaned.

"I can always transfigure your book into a pillow," she suggested.

"No," he sighed, "I'll be fine."

Professor Binns then floated into the room and began droning on about Red Caps and how the bloodshed in the Somme and Ypres had been so great that the Red Caps grew stronger than ever and rampaged through France and Belgium. One by one, the students began dozing off. Harry was about to join them when a loud knock on the door startled everyone, including Binns. Were Binns not already dead, Harry suspected the shock might've killed him.

"Come in?" the Professor barked, unaccustomed to having his lessons disrupted. A small First year girl came in.

"Please, sir..." she began meekly, "I've got a message from the Headmaster."

The Professor approached her and grabbed it. The girl fled and the Professor fixed Harry and Hermione with steely glares.

"Potter, Granger! Headmaster's office, now!"

"What about Ron?" asked Harry. Binns shook his head.

"It doesn't say anything about Mr. Weasley."

"Oh," Harry said softly, throwing Ron an apologetic look. But being unable to do anything about it, he and Hermione left the classroom.

***

"Come in!" Dumbledore called in a chirpy voice. The door opened and they went in. The girl was already there waiting.

"Sit down, sit down," Dumbledore said in a friendly tone. Harry sat in the chair furthest from the girl and Hermione settled down between the two.

"Now, we're all nice and rested and had time to think," the Professor began. "Perhaps we can discuss the matters at hand rather more calmly than yesterday."

"There's nothing to discuss, Professor Dumbledore," the girl Maura said firmly. "I have a task to fulfil and I will do it."

Harry couldn't help growling very softly in anger.

"You have no idea what you're facing," he said, fighting to stay composed. Maura glared at him.

"Oh don't I?" she snarled. "The things I've faced over the last year would make your hair curl."

"Really? Care to enlighten us?" Harry asked in a sarcastic tone that sounded strange to his own ears.

"No, I don't," Maura said in a very low, dangerous voice. Clearly, she was fighting to stay calm as hard as he was.

"Well," Dumbledore stood up. "I think this is a conversation best held somewhere else and I have many matters demanding my attention. I'm sure you can find an empty classroom to talk in."

"Snipe in, more like," Hermione muttered. Dumbledore smiled very slightly and she blushed when she realised he'd heard her.

They found an empty classroom at the bottom of the West Tower far from prying eyes or inquisitive ears . Harry had remained silent on their journey, but now the three were alone, he exploded in anger.

"What is your problem?" he demanded.

"My problem?" the girl drawled. "Nothing whatsoever. I'm just here to do my job."

"Job? Killing Voldemort is more than a job!"

"Really? What would you call it?"

"I..." Harry paused for a moment. "Destiny."

"Job, destiny," she said dismissively. "For me, they're the same thing. Why don't you get out of my way and let me handle it, little boy?"

"Little boy?"

"Shut up!" Hermione once again found herself in the middle. But she continued Harry's question. "Little boy? You don't exactly seem much older than us. How old are you, eighteen?"

"Something like that," the girl admitted. "But would it interest you to know that I saved the world last year?"

"Not really," said Harry, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "I did much the same thing when I was eleven. And when I was twelve. And again when I was fourteen. And fifteen. And... You'll have to remind me, Hermione, last year as well?"

"I think so."

Maura now had the decency to look slightly impressed.

"Really? What did you do?"

"Oh he's not done much. Just kept Voldemort from destroying the world," Hermione now found herself boasting on his behalf.

"That's great. One lousy wizard."

"You're not a witch, are you?" Harry asked. She shook her head.

"No."

"I guessed as much. Only a Muggle would think he was just one lousy wizard."

"Oh dear boy, it's not because I'm a Muggle that I say such things," she drawled, suddenly reminding them a little of Malfoy.

"Oh?"

"Last year, a being rose. Like your Voldemort, most people don't speak his name. We're talking seriously old, powerful evil. In fact, my people referred to him only as the Old Enemy. If we hadn't been able to stop him, he would've wiped out half the world without most people even knowing what hit them."

"We?" Hermione asked. Maura ignored her.

"It took the combined powers of two of the oldest clans in history to stop this thing and even so, it killed hundreds."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. So don't tell me I'm unqualified. I was born for this."

"So was I," Harry shot back, "I was the one who stopped Voldemort in the first place. I was a year old. He killed my parents and because of him my godfather spent 13 years in prison," Harry now gave up any pretence of being calm and allowed anger to surge through his veins.

"He's been after me my whole life and I don't care if you've got some ancient power or destiny! This is my fight! I never wanted it, but it was given to me and I don't intend to not fulfil my destiny! She may have been some cosmic Heir to you, but she was my mum!" Harry was screaming now and trembling with anger.

Maura backed down.

"See, I didn't know that," she said, before muttering something that sounded a lot like 'clucking guardians'.

"Well you do now," Hermione said firmly. "Now, I'm missing classes here and I wouldn't mind if we were actually getting somewhere, but we aren't. If you could both just dump some testosterone..."

Maura bristled at this implication, but said nothing.

"We might be able to get somewhere if we all just calm down. I don't think Professor Dumbledore will be pleased to discover that you spent the entire morning arguing."

"Well, technically speaking, I spent at least part of the morning being told I was going to die soon," Harry said, before Hermione silenced him with a glare.

"Now, Maura," Hermione said in a professional sounding voice. "We know a little bit about Maeve and her Heir, but we're really missing a lot of information. I think it would be helpful if you first told us about yourself and everything that might be important here. And seeing as we're likely to be here a while, why don't we all sit down and get comfy?"

Hermione's tone brooked no argument. Harry sat on a desk, while both Maura and Hermione took chairs.

"What do you want to know?" Maura asked with a sigh.

"Everything," Harry said.

"Well, all right. I didn't know I was the Heir of Maeve until last year. I was only two when Lily Evans..."

"Lily Potter," Harry corrected.

"Lily Potter, died. The Guardians kept an eye on me over the years but I never knew I was anything special. The opposite was true, you might say. Anyway, about a year ago, they found me and told me that I was some Heir of some ancient Irish bird. I didn't believe them until I was in Safeway's and suddenly started having some weird vision."

"Vision?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. The bloody Guardians gave me a vision of the cattle raid. You do know about that, right?"

"More or less."

"Right there in the bloody freezer section," Maura cleared her throat and continued, "Well anyway, after that I was a bit more receptive, but I drew the line at saving the world. They didn't even try to persuade me about it, but my friend managed to get me to listen to them."

Maura paused for a moment, deep in thought.

"We ended up on this long trek. First of all we had to find an enchanted shield which had been hidden away. Only a genuine Heir could get to the shield, and we found remains of people who'd tried anyway."

"And anyway, another uh... friend, George, he turned out to be the Heir of Ulster. He was also related to St. George. You know, the dragon-slayer?"

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"Well anyway, we found his ancestor's sword in the cave where the Shield was. It turned out that another Heir of Ulster had tried to get the shield and died trying. But it meant we didn't have to go looking for the sword. About the only thing that went our way," she said, her lip curling into a snarl.

"What then?"

"Then we fought," she said in a way that told Harry and Hermione that she was leaving large parts of the story out. "The Old Enemy rose and we had to fight. We wouldn't have managed to win but..."

"But what?"

"Nothing. Not important. That was last year. Since then I've been going round wondering what I'm meant to do. Then the Guardians came and told me about the last Heir being killed."

"Well, I think our side could certainly use someone like you," Hermione said. Maura went to say something, but Hermione continued on. "You've got it all wrong, Maura. Harry isn't the only one fighting Voldemort, just as Voldemort isn't on his own. He has his minions and there are people fighting every day to stop them."

Hermione paused for breath.

"You've just admitted that you didn't defeat this Old Enemy on your own, you had help. Well Harry has help and I think you can be a part of the greater picture. But I don't want to hear either of you arguing over who gets to kill him. This is more important than silly squabbling."

Both had the decency to look contrite at this point.

"Are you going to stay for a while, Maura?" Hermione asked. "I think it would be really helpful if you did. And it's one of the safest places in the wizard world."

"Sure," Maura said quite softly, as if her mind wasn't quite in this room but somewhere else.

"Good," Harry said, surprising both girls. "Once Voldemort hears about her, he'll be after her too."

"Why?" Maura asked.

"Do you really think he'll just let you hang around waiting to kill him? He'll send Death Eaters after you."

"I've got the Guardians to protect me."

"Who are these Guardians? Fifty highly trained, highly talented sorcerers?" scoffed Harry.

"Not so much," Maura mumbled, thinking of the old Irish women down at Egan's in Kilburn.

"Then you really should stay here for a while," Hermione said quite kindly, wanting to like this girl, who seemed to be trying to hard at being unpleasant.

"Fine," she relented. "But if you think for a second that I'm going to let you take over, little boy, you're sadly mistaken,"

"And if you think I'll back down, so are you," Harry replied. They stared each other down for moment.

"Then we understand each other?" she asked.

"Perfectly," Harry retorted. She smiled, ever so slightly, but it was a smile just the same. Harry then turned to Hermione.

"Want to head back to class?" he asked. She nodded. They wandered down the corridor together, neither especially hurrying.

"I think you should talk to her," said Hermione. Harry looked horrified.

"What?"

"Get to know her better. She's hiding stuff."

"Bad stuff? Evil stuff?" Harry asked eagerly. Hermione laughed.

"No, silly. But I get the feeling that she's... She seems sad to me."

"Wouldn't you be better at that sort of thing?" he asked.

"Me? Do girl talk? When have I ever?"

"Well... never, but you do have a distinct advantage over me."

"What's that?"

"You're a girl."

"Oh yes. I forget sometimes," she said with a wry grin.

"Yeah? I don't."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing," he said quickly. "We're here."

***

It was after dinner that Harry and Hermione decided that the girl talk plan should be put into action. Hermione wasn't entirely sure it would work. She'd never been one for girl talk and she didn't think Maura was either. But when she saw Maura sitting alone outside by the fountain, amongst the rose bushes, she decided to take the bull by the horns. She just hoped she didn't get fatally gored.

"Hello," she said. Maura didn't flinch at the sudden sound.

"Hello," she replied, not turning around.

"Can I sit down?" Hermione asked. A slight incline of the head was the only answer Maura gave.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, before immediately mentally kicking herself. What kind of a start was that?

"Triffic," Maura said, her accent more pronounced than before. The tone of her voice, however, remained dull.

"Where are you from?" Hermione asked both out of curiosity and to get Maura talking.

"Kilburn by way of Hoxton," Maura replied in the same disinterested tone.

"North London?"

"Yeah."

"What's it like there?"

"Old."

"Oh. I live in Hertfordshire," Hermione said, waiting for the derisive snort which was the usual response. It didn't come. "Very suburban. Very new, I suppose."

"Yeah."

"You sound to me like you need someone to talk to," Hermione said very gently, waiting for the backlash. It did not come.

"Do I?" Maura asked in the same emotionless tone.

"What happened last year?" Hermione asked. Maura made no reply. Hermione pressed on regardless. "You know, Harry and Ron say that when I'm away from all my books, I make a good listener. If you need to talk, I'm here."

Hermione got up and went to move away.

"I never wanted to be the Heir of anything," Maura said very softly. Hermione sat back down.

"Neither did Harry."

"I wasn't ever anything special, you know," Maura said "Not ever. Until the Guardians turned up, and even then I turned them away."

"Why?"

"I didn't believe them. Then even when I believed them, I told them to sod off. I didn't want to save the world. I thought the world needed putting out of its misery."

"What changed?"

"Nothing. I just realised that although I thought the world was a bloody mess of tragedy and pain, some people are quite fond of the place."

"I quite like it," Hermione said with a smile intended to cheer up the other girl.

"Yeah. It isn't always that bad. Or so I've been told."

"What happened? Why are you so sad?" Hermione inwardly cursed herself for such clumsy conversation, but the other girl only seemed surprised that Hermione had noticed.

"Me? Sad? You'd be the first to notice."

"What about the Guardians?"

"One track minds. To them, I'm really just a tool, a weapon. And as for everyone else? Either they never gave a damn, or they're dead or..."

"Dead?"

"Yes. I should probably start from the beginning, but it's not very interesting."

"Tell me anyway."

"I had one friend growing up. Only one, and I didn't even deserve that. That rude, moody little bint you saw before? The one who ordered Potter about like she's the Queen of the Universe? I've been like that all my life. Moody, mean and cold. I don't know why, I think it's just a look that works for me."

Maura shifted in her seat, quite uncomfortable with the direction she was taking the conversation.

"Who was this one friend?"

"Katerina. If I'm mean and moody and cold, or whatever it is they used to say about me, she's the total bloody opposite. Too good to be true, that's Katerina."

"What happened?"

"Well, she came along with me on my magnificent crusade to save the world. She did all the reading while I sat about complaining about how I had to be the one chosen."

"Sounds familiar," Hermione said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Anyway, as we were going off to find that shield I told you about, we met this other destiny-ridden sort, a young man by the name of George, he was descended from the dragon-slayer of the same name. Very good-looking in that dark, smouldering way. Yet too nice to be dark."

"I think I know the sort."

"Anyway, he came along for the ride and Kat fell in love with Mr Charming and Handsome."

"What about you?"

"Me? I barely noticed he was there. I'm too bloody narcissistic to notice anyone else," she paused there to breathe very deeply. "So we got the shield and the sword and everything, easy peasy. But the Old Enemy rose before we could do anything about it. Then we found out about this prophecy."

"Oh, they're always fun."

Maura opened her mouth to speak again before a loud crash startled both of them.

"What? Who's there?" Maura demanded with a growl, getting into a fighting stance in the time it takes to blink.

"It's just me," Harry said sheepishly, his hair messier than usual and his glasses slightly skew whiff. "I tripped over a step. I was coming to see if you wanted some hot chocolate."

"That would be brilliant!" Maura said, giving Hermione the distinct impression that the Heir was particularly pleased to have a way out of the conversation. But this girl talk had thrown up more questions than it had answered. What prophecy? Katerina? George? Hermione's mind was filling with questions she wanted to ask the girl.

Maura seemed to be taking a keen interest in Harry now, even grinning and laughing at his jokes. Part of Hermione wanted to believe that she was only doing it to get out of the conversation, which had taken a decidedly dark turn before Harry's arrival, but another part of Hermione wanted to scratch Maura's pretty blue eyes out. But she wasn't exactly sure why.

They snuck into the kitchens where Dobby and his colleagues attempted to foist all manner of goodies on them. Maura looked distinctly impressed at Harry's treatment, and this only made Hermione's mood sour further. They grabbed mugs of hot chocolate each, plus one for Ron, and then they headed up to the Gryffindor common room.

"Am I allowed in here?" Maura asked.

"Not really," muttered Hermione. Fortunately, neither heard her.

"I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore won't mind," Harry reassured Maura. He gave the Fat Lady the password and the three headed into the common room.

"I brought them, Ron!" he called. Ron looked up from his chessboard and grinned broadly.

"Good evening ladies," he said in what he hoped was a debonair voice. Maura merely smirked and they sat down and began to talk.

***

When the common room had emptied and the night was getting on, Maura stood up to leave.

"I really should go to bed now," she said. "I'm meeting with some Order thing tomorrow."

"You are?" Harry looked intrigued.

"Yes. About plans or something. Know anything about it?"

"You might say," Harry mumbled. He had been inducted into the Order of the Phoenix nearly a year ago.

"Well, good night," she said before disappearing out of the portrait hole.

"I'm off to bed. Coming, Harry?" asked Ron, yawning widely as he had been doing for the past five minutes.

"I'm going to stay down here for a while," Harry told him.

"Well, see you up there. Night Hermione."

"Night Ron," she replied as he went up the stairs. She sat back in her chair and let out a very deep breath. She'd been feeling tense since they got to the common room. Or was it before that?

"What's up?" he asked. She looked at him quizzically.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"You can't fool me, you know," he said. She looked at him in alarm. What could he possibly mean by that?

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that some thing has been bothering you all night. Now spill," he commanded.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

"You've barely said a word since we came back here."

"I didn't feel much like talking."

"We were talking about school."

"I know. I was quite content to sit and listen."

"Hermione, why won't you tell me what the matter is?"

"Because nothing is wrong, there's nothing to tell."

"OK. I know I'm not the cleverest wizard here, but I don't believe you."

"I'm not going to beg you to believe me."

Harry sat for a moment watching her closely. She shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"There's nothing wrong!" she exclaimed.

"You're jealous of Maura," he guessed.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. Ever since she started being nice to me, you've been all quiet and moody."

"I am not moody," she growled. He stifled a laugh.

"OK. Just quiet then."

"It wasn't that she was being nice to you. It just seemed quite an abrupt about-face, that's all."

"Oh," he said, quite patently not believing her. "You know you're still my best girl, right?"

"What?" she asked with alarm, her eyebrows almost shooting up to her hairline.

"You. Best friend. Forever and all that," he smiled sweetly at her.

"Thank you. Actually, I was quite annoyed you turned up when you did. She was about to tell me about some prophecy involving George, the person she mentioned before."

"Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to trip down the steps."

"I wish I'd seen it. Sounds like quite the pratfall."

"It was. Fortunately for me, I don't think anyone saw," he grinned. "I don't think I'd live it down."

"Well, quite. Once people find out that the famous Harry Potter is a total prat, what will become of you?"

"I'm not a total prat."

"No not yet, but you show great promise," she said with a wicked grin. He grinned back for a moment before turning serious.

"Are you all right now?"

She nodded with a small smile. He stood up and yawned quite loudly.

"I'm going to bed. I didn't get much sleep last night, you know,"

"Really?"

"Yeah. I had a cute chick hanging on my every word all night."

"Really? Well might I suggest you hurry up the stairs before said 'chick' decides to castrate you for cheekiness?"

"Point taken. Night Hermione,"

"Night Harry," she said with a smile. Then he was gone.

***

The next morning, all was normal until Potions. Professor Snape was, rather unusually, running late, and so this gave Draco the opportunity he'd been dying for.

"Who's the girl, Potty?"" he sneered, coming over to Harry's desk.

"What girl, Malfoy?" Harry replied in a bored, even tone.

"That mystery girl. She was hanging around you and Granger for most of yesterday. Who is she?"

"Nobody that concerns you, Draco," Hermione said in a patronising tone.

"Are you sure?" he asked with a strange, knowing smile.

"Positive, Malfoy," said Harry. Draco went to continue but the Professor came in and he scampered back to his seat.

"Odious little creep," Hermione muttered, causing Harry to stifle a laugh. They listened patiently to Snape until it came time to make their own potions.

"What do you suppose that was all about? What does Maura have to do with him?" Harry whispered to her.

"Hopefully absolutely nothing at all," Hermione whispered back.

"Hopefully. He's probably just sniffing around in his usual Malfoy way."

"Potter!" Snape called. "Five points from Gryffindor for talking in class!"

***

Unable to talk more during Potions or any other class, they were forced to wait until dinner time. Harry sat down and began helping himself to food. Hermione, on the other hand, grabbed some slices of bread and pulled him out of his seat.

"What?"

"I think we should go for a walk, don't you?" she asked pointedly. Maura was sitting up at the top table talking to one of the professors. More specifically, she was talking to Snape. Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"OK. Yeah," he said, swallowing the one mouthful of mashed potatoes he'd managed to get through. He followed the fast-paced Hermione out of the building and down to the lake, where she finally slowed down.

"What do you suppose that was about?" she demanded. "First Malfoy sniffing around this morning, now she's all friendly with Snape?"

"Why don't we ask her?" Harry said reasonably. "I think she's warming up to us."

"Oh sure," Hermione said sarcastically. "I learned so much yesterday."

"Maybe she'll tell us more at the meeting."

"Do you know when it is?" asked Hermione. He shook his head.

"Nope. I don't usually get much more warning than an owl."

"Well, at least it means Sirius will be here, right?"

Harry grinned excitedly.

"Hopefully." Tacitly agreeing to turn back, they began walking

"What do you suppose that was with Snape?"

"Well, he's a member of the Order as well. Perhaps Dumbledore told him about her already. Or he's just trying to pick up 18 year old girls now."

"Well, I think he'd have more success if he washed his hair and smiled occasionally," said Hermione. They laughed for a moment, before both stopping dead in their tracks.

Ron was waiting for them at the door. He did not look happy.

"Hello," he said in a voice colder than the autumn night air. "Have a nice walk?"

"It was all right," mumbled Harry.

"I'm so glad," Ron's voice was dripping with bitter sarcasm.

"What's the matter, Ron?" Hermione asked, quite alarmed with her friend's behaviour.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Liar," she challenged him.

"Fine! I'm lying! So what? It's not like either of you care!" Ron shouted.

"What do you mean?"

"I've barely seen either of you since you found that stupid book!"

"What? We spend most of the day with you."

"Yeah, in lessons. But you're so bloody wrapped up in whatever's going on. And you don't seem to want to involve me in any of it!"

"Ron, we've been over this," Hermione said in a rational voice. "We don't mean to leave you out of it."

"I'm sure," he said in a particularly sarcastic voice. "But it still happens, doesn't it?"

At that very moment, an owl descended from the darkening sky, having come from the school owlery. It dropped a note in Harry's hand before immediately flying back. He ripped it open and began to read.

"Now?" he muttered in a frustrated voice.

"Do you have to go?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. So do you." Harry's eyes flickered to Ron's incensed face as he told Hermione.

"Me? Why?"

"Doesn't say," he said.

"Ron..." she began.

"Don't. Just don't bother," he growled before turning and walking away.

"That went well," she said sadly as they began walking to the room the note specified.

"I feel bad for him, Hermione," Harry said. "But at the same time, it's not our fault. Dumbledore didn't mention him in that other note, or in this one, or that... I don't know!" he said, his voice full of frustration.

"Well, OK," Hermione said, a plan forming in her mind. "We'll let him calm down, then we'll tell him everything we know so far. We'll get him involved if it's the last thing we do! He's our friend and we should make sure he feels like it."

***