The Labyrinth of Amagor

The Labyrinth of Amagor

Chapter 7: Reunions and Reassurance

Walking beside Ron, Parvati still felt awkward. She was surprised to find that her feelings for this amiable giant cut less deep than the suspicion that she had somehow betrayed Hermione. Then again, it wasn't as if Ron were the only person Parvati fancied; he was just her current favourite. There was charismatic Harry, of course, and Seamus was nice--if only he didn't act the div so often!

Thinking back, it seemed to Parvati that she had a decided weakness for Weasleys. Not Percy, who had a broomstick up his bum, but there was nothing wrong with Fred! The Weasley twins were only two years older than the Patil sisters, and she and Padma had spent many an hour fantasising about them. Happily, Padma preferred George. In the end, though, all their imaginings had come to nothing. The Patil family had gone very native, but the girls were still too modest to approach boys openly and the twins had been too preoccupied with their own particular species of devilment to pay much attention to girls.

Still and all, the Patils had been invited to Ginny's birthday party in a few days' time. Fred and George were bound to be there. The rules changed at a party, and, anyway, Parvati was getting tired of being the quiet Gryffindor. So she would have a word with Padma, and just maybe....

With that decided, Parvati suddenly felt a lot better. She turned to Ron, asking, "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? You usually talk the hind leg off a donkey, but you've gone all quiet."

"Hmm? Oh," Ron glanced down at her. "Sorry. I was wool-gathering. Miles away."

He began to chat as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Parvati had a shrewd idea that he'd been letting her get herself sorted out for the last little while. For all the daft-as-a-brush image he projected, Ron was one of the more perceptive people she knew.

Then the corridor opened out into a kind of arena. Ron and Parvati found themselves on a balcony, overlooking a kind of square grid about thirty feet to a side on which four robed figures were playing a game.

"What's this?" whispered Parvati.

"Shh!" commanded Ron. "I think we'll be joining this game in a bit, so just watch!"

The robed figures worked in teams of two. One, standing on a podium above the grid, seemed to be directing the other in placing pieces on the board. The pieces were round, about a foot across, and positioned not on squares, but on the intersections of the grid, as in Go, the game Ron had learned in America. The pieces also had symbols on them. Ron and Parvati watched the game to its conclusion, then the nearest robed figure waved them imperiously down to the playing area.

As they descended the stairs, Parvati wondered, "Ron, do you know what to do? I haven't a clue."

Ron nodded. When he spoke, his voice had a tone Parvati had not heard before; it was crisp and precise. "It's an alchemical game. There are four types of piece: wood, fire, water and metal, but there's only one metal piece. Wood floats on water; fire burns wood and water puts out fire. That's how you take pieces--you put the right piece next to the one you want to take, but you can't take the metal piece. Also, the metal one can't capture, and it can only move by switching places with another of your pieces. The aim is to gain territory so you can turn metal into gold by getting it to your opponent's first row."

"Urgh!" Parvati groaned, shaking her head. "I'm glad you understand it all."

He grinned reassuringly at her. "Don't worry, Parvati. I'll stand on the podium and direct you while you levitate the pieces where I tell you to, OK?"

"Yes, sir!"

Ron chuckled, and then mounted the podium. The robed figure bowed to him before vanishing. A gong sounded, and the game began.

Parvati never could tell how long the game took. It ebbed and flowed. Ron played cautiously until he got a feel for his opponent's strategy. Then he tried probing attacks, testing the other's defence. Quite suddenly, he went fully onto the offensive.

His faceless opponent had seemed unemotional up to then, but now the voice emanating from the depths of the hood began to rise as it directed the mover in increasingly desperate attempts to block Ron's relentless advance. The creature, whatever or whoever it was, had no way of knowing that it was up against one of the finest strategic minds in the Wizarding world. Parvati was once again amazed at the capacities that lay behind Ron's easy-going, slightly slow façade. She finally understood why Hermione, she of the razor-sharp mind, had chosen this man.

Finally, Parvati levitated the piece with the metal symbol onto the final row, and the thing changed to gold in a blaze of light. The gong sounded again. The robed figure bowed to Ron, and the entire arena vanished.

Ron and Parvati stood on a ledge above a chasm. At the other side of the crevasse, they could see a broad road that headed off to right and left as far as they could see. They looked all around them, and came to the only possible conclusion: There was only one way across.

"We'll have to Apparate," concluded Parvati. "Are you up for it?"

"Doesn't look like we've got a choice, does it? Go on three?"

"OK. One, two, three!"

There was a double boom, duplicated shortly after when the two of them reappeared on the roadway. "Phew!" gasped Ron. "Anything that happens after this is definitely an improvement."

Parvati couldn't help but laugh. After everything they'd been through today, Ron had been most worried by a simple Apparation!

Then there was another boom, and Luna appeared nearby. She didn't stop to greet them, just waved them back. "Stand clear," she warned. They did as told, following her gaze to a quite remarkable sight.

There was another ledge, directly opposite the one they had crossed from, above a similar abyss. Coming towards them from it was a white, gleaming bridge. As it drew closer, they saw the black-clad figure at the end of it walking steadily along with one hand extended while the bridge grew in front of him. The road where they had been standing suddenly glazed with ice. Bob Drake stepped off the bridge he had made and smiled.

"Hi, Parvati. Good to see you again."

"Bob! You really did come," Parvati breathed with excitement, jumping forward to embrace him.

"Of course, we came," Iceman told her. "Like Marie said, we take care of our own."

Parvati squeezed him again. "Oh, it's lovely to see you!" Then she led him over to Ron. "I don't think you two have ever met properly. Bob Drake, this is Ron Weasley."

Bob gripped Ron's hand heartily. "We've met in passing. Hunter, you're out of uniform!"

"Undercover work, you know," Ron said airily. "Besides, that leather makes you sweat in places I can't mention in front of the ladies."

Bob threw back his head and roared. This Hunter was going to be a man after his own heart.

The two girls shook their heads despairingly. "Men!" said Parvati. Luna noted, "I've always known that Ron Weasley was a bad influence. Bob was a perfect gentleman until five minutes ago."

"Uh-oh," Bob informed Ron. "They're onto you!"

"They've been onto me-and on at me--for years, Bob. It's Hell, but you get used to it."

One direction seemed as good as another, so the four began to walk, joking back and forth.

***

Hermione and Roberto strolled along the corridor, exchanging news about what had gone on since they last saw each other. Not that they hadn't written, but there were all those little details that don't get into letters. Roberto wanted to know how Harry and Ginny were doing, pointing out that not only Kitty, but Dani, Marie and Rahne as well, felt very protective towards Hawk. Any failure on Ginny's part to make him happy would have dire consequences!

In turn, Hermione quizzed Roberto about Kitty and Peter. She'd become quite close to Ariel, but hardly knew Colossus, and wanted to be sure they were suited.

So engrossed was she in the conversation, that Hermione barely noticed when Roberto slipped a companionable arm around her waist; in fact, without thinking, she put her arm around him.

Then the floor vanished! The two of them dropped a couple of feet onto a long slope that carried them for quite some time. Roberto wrapped his arms protectively around Charm, changing into his Sunspot form with what stored energy he had. Fortunately their slide, though rapid, was smooth, and they finally plumped down onto a dusty mattress or cushion, unhurt but a little breathless.

Sunspot changed back to Roberto just as Hermione realised she was lying in his arms. He grinned, and as she was about to say something, he leaned in and kissed her. It was not a deep, passionate kiss, but neither was it a friendly peck. It was light and soft and sweet--like meringue, Hermione thought afterwards. Hermione was split three ways: her head told her to push him away and slap him; her heart pointed out that this was just Roberto and there was no harm in him; her body said shut up and enjoy yourself, girl! In the end, she went with her body, since the kiss was a short one.

He pulled back and smiled at her. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

"Well, I hope you enjoyed it," she retorted, "because that's the only one you get, Mr DaCosta! What d'you think would happen if I told Ron?"

Roberto shrugged. "He'd either laugh or pulverize me. I'll take my lumps, if I have to."

"Oh? What chance would Ron have against you?"

Roberto turned serious. "Hermione, you don't use your powers on a teammate unless it's life or death. Anyway, Hunter's smart enough to get me where there's no sunlight, and man-to-man I'm no match for him. Even Peter would have his hands full.

"Anyway, it's no big deal," he reasoned. "You know how I am. Dani would do the same with Ron if she got a chance. You're hot, you know, so I want to kiss you. Your English guys may have forgotten that it's nice to kiss a pretty girl, but we Latins haven't! So relax, and chill. You're still Hermione Granger-not Mrs. Ron Weasley."

He was so disarming, so charmingly unapologetic, that Hermione couldn't be angry. She gave him a little hug. "Roberto, you're impossible! I won't tell Ron, but you mustn't ever do that again..." She paused. "...Unless I tell you to! But right now, we'd better find out where we are."

It was not a very large room. There was an exit, across which a violet barrier flickered. Just inside the barrier were two familiar figures.

"Lavender? Sam?" There was no response. Hermione and Roberto squinted at the motionless pair. "They're paralysed," Hermione decided. "But how?"

"They look as if they just stepped through that barrier," Roberto noticed.

"That's probably it, then. I wonder...maybe they came into this room from the wrong direction."

"Why would they do that? If this place is for testing wizards, I'd think that the designers would make sure people got to the tests in the right sequence."

Hermione put a finger to her lips, concentrating. "Hmm... I think the keyword there is wizards. You're not a wizard, neither is Sam or any of the X-Men. If your presence here has thrown the Labyrinth out of kilter, anything could happen. Let's take a closer look."

The room turned out to be a fully equipped Potions laboratory, but the ingredients cupboard was empty. Hermione stood in front of it, frowning, until Roberto called to her, "Come look at this!"

On the main table a book lay open next to a large hourglass. Hermione read: To pass the Barrier of Time, you have what you need for one turn of the glass.

"Ah! So they're not paralysed. They're just slowed down somehow." She ran a hand along the hourglass. "Right. Now, if I've understood this, when I turn the glass, the ingredients should appear in the cupboard, and I'll have an hour to make the potion we need. I'm thinking that it's a Speed Potion.

"The problem is that I'll also need a Restore Potion for Lavender and Sam, and I'll have to make them both at the same time. There are quills and parchment here, so I'm going to write down the recipes first. Roberto, you start that fire going, and get me two cauldrons."

Roberto, of course, had no magical way to start the fire, a detail Hermione had forgotten. Fortunately, Wolverine had insisted that a cigarette lighter be included with the X-Men's standard equipment. Roberto soon had a fire started, and by then Hermione was ready. She handed him a bit of parchment covered with her large, clear writing.

"OK, I'm going to turn the glass. I want you to grab the things on this list-hopefully they will be labelled-and bring them over to the table, quick as you can. Then you'd better stay out of my way, because I'm going to be in a tizz. And when I'm in a tizz, I bite!"

She turned the glass, and the cupboard obligingly filled with bottles, jars and boxes. Roberto moved fast, grabbing items off the shelf and taking them to the table. Then he retreated to a corner, sitting cross-legged on the floor and watching Hermione. She didn't seem to be in a "tizz", whatever that was. She worked quickly and methodically, her lower lip caught in her teeth as she concentrated. As he studied her, Roberto couldn't help but think, Jeez, that Ron is one lucky guy!

By the time the sands ran out, Hermione had two cauldrons bubbling merrily over the fire. After a while, she lifted one off and cast a cooling spell on it. "Roberto, take some of this and drizzle it over our two friends over there. Not too much-no need to soak them."

"Yes, ma'am!" He bowed to her, and she stuck out her tongue out at him.

Sam and Lavender were understandably confused when they recovered. Roberto explained things while Hermione watched the last cauldron. Then she called, "Right! It's done!"

"Soup's on," said Roberto. "I hope you're a good cook."

"Oh, once tasted, never forgotten," Hermione promised.

This was unfortunately true. Sam grimaced. "Yuck! Tastes like an old sweatsock with a dash of rotten anchovy."

"Nobody cooks like our Hermione," said Lavender, looking a little green around the gills.

"OK, so I'm no Delia Smith, but it'll get us through that barrier. Now, let's go!"

As they went, Lavender asked, "Delia who?"

***

Danielle Moonstar was ready to howl with frustration. For an hour, she had tried every trick in the book to get a rise out of Neville. Well, to be fair, he had responded to her flirting--the same way Harry and Ron had done, with a witty restraint Dani found infuriating.

What was it with these English guys? By now, she'd have gotten to Bobby or Peter. Even Sam, whose parents were seriously religious and had raised him to be uptight, would have shown more interest than Neville. Neville was tall, built, foxy, and funny; he had everything going for him. He definitely liked girls. Was he just afraid of pissing off his girlfriend?

No, it wasn't that. Ron had been standoffish, too, and not just because of Hermione. Dani had spent most of the spring trying to get somewhere--anywhere--with Ron and Harry. She knew they both liked her; her Mutant powers made that clear. No, they were just inhibited. Tell an English guy you think he's hot, and he'll either make some crack about you needing an eye exam or go bright red and start mumbling to his shoes! Weird.

Dani shook her head. Kitty had been giving Harry the green light from the get-go, but it had taken him a whole week to get the message. Even worse, that pair had been dating the whole spring and Harry (according to Kitty) hadn't made any serious moves. Dani hoped this Ginny was having better luck.

Dani couldn't stand it anymore. "Neville, am I such a dog?"

"Pardon?" Neville gave her a puzzled look.

"Am I ugly? Do I have bad breath? Am I fat?" she inquired. "I've been trying to get your attention, like, all afternoon, and you're treating me like your sister!"

"I have been paying attention," Neville insisted. "And I don't have a sister."

"Wrong kind of attention," Dani huffed, resisting the impulse to shake him. "Polite conversation is OK, in its place. But we're alone, and you're a guy, and I'm a girl and, well...."

Neville said, "Dani, I'm going out with Lavender."

"Sure, but she's not here! Jeez, Neville, I'm not talking about getting down, but a hug or a kiss could be fun. Lavender doesn't have to know."

He stared at her. "I'd know." He stopped, reached out and took her gently by the shoulders. "If we were both free, you'd be up there on my wish-list, I promise you. But we're not free. I don't know what the rules are over the water, but here it's simple-hands off! Now, let's not fall out, please? Especially over something as silly as this."

Dani shrugged. "What can I say?" She sighed. "Somebody oughta teach you Brits how to cut loose once in a while."

"Remarkable," said a third voice, deep and rich. Dani and Neville spun round. They had arrived in a large, empty, circular room with several corridors branching from it. In the centre of the room stood a figure at least seven feet tall, with white skin, jet hair, golden eyes and a slim, androgynous body. The being's face was perfectly balanced, utterly beautiful, but it was impossible to tell from the features or the voice whether this was a male or female. Yet, something about it seemed male.

It spoke again, turning to Neville. "You I know, young Gryffindor. You have all the marks of your House: honour, valour, loyalty and truth."

Neville straightened his shoulders. "I take it you're Amagor?"

Amagor inclined his head. "I am. Now hold your peace, Gryffindor. I am not here for you." He turned to Dani. "You, I do not know. You are no witch, but I sense power in you. You are of no House, yet you also bear the marks of Gryffindor. You come not from this Island of the Mighty; your origins lie to the West of the Blessed Isles and the sunken realms. Speak! Tell me who and what you are. Show me your power."

Dani drew herself up. "I am called Psyche, of the X-Men," she said formally, matching Amagor's tone. "I am a daughter of chiefs and shamans, and my tribe is ancient. I travel in friendship with my brother of Gryffindor. I am a Mutant--and this is my power!"

Amagor cried out, clapping his hands over his eyes. Then he dropped his hands, and his eyes glowed a brighter gold. Dani groaned and staggered.

"Dementor!" snarled Amagor. "Denizen of darkness!"

He pointed a finger. A bolt of lightning arced at the defenceless Psyche, but Neville was already in front of her, invoking "Protego!". The lightning dissipated against his magical shield. Amagor growled like an animal, and Neville's wand wrenched out of his hand to skitter across the room.

The djinn charged, underestimating his opponent. Neville was not as skilled as Harry or Ron- yet-but he knew enough to send Amagor to the floor with a crash. Neville darted for his wand, but Amagor seized his ankle, spilling him to the floor. The djinn leapt to his feet, lightning once again crackling in the palm of his hand, only to be knocked aside by a flying kick from a recovered Psyche.

There was a pause. Neville got to his feet. Then Amagor gestured; a glowing, red-hot scimitar appeared in each of his hands and he began to advance on the two friends. As Neville and Psyche steeled themselves for what looked like a fight to the death, they suddenly heard the baying of a wolf. At the same moment, a familiar voice shouted, "Expelliarmus!", and the scimitars flew from Amagor's grasp. disappearing at once.

Neville seized his wand and swept it up before looking round. Yes! It was Harry! And Rogue was with him. That meant that the young wolf baring its fangs at Amagor could only be Wolfsbane.

Nobody spoke; there was no need. The five friends spread out, surrounding Amagor. Wolfsbane growled deep in her throat. Harry and Neville menaced the djinn with their wands. Psyche reached out with her special senses and Rogue, face set, began to remove a glove.

Amagor held up both hands. "Enough!" he bellowed. "I call truce."

Harry asked, "Why should we trust you?"

"You have my oath in the name of Godric Gryffindor, and I call Merlin to witness!"

"OK, I'll take that for now," said Harry, "but I'll be watching you."

"It is well," replied Amagor. Then he turned and bowed respectfully to Psyche. "I ask your pardon, daughter of chiefs. I had taken you for a Dementor, clad in illusion, a thing bred in the deepest pits of abomination, but I see now that is not so. I should have seen the truth when this brave Gryffindor came to your aid, but my anger blinded me."

He looked around the circle. "So, we have three brave Gryffindors, though one is no witch, and also a shape-shifter. The young wizards of Hogwarts keep stranger company than aforetime, though no less worthy."

Amagor turned to Harry and bowed low. "To you, Dunadan, I give special greeting. It is an honour to test one of your unfailing Line."

He surveyed them all again. "This day draws to a close. Sanctuary awaits you. Rest well; tomorrow brings the Final Test. Peace be with you."

Amagor vanished with the sound of a gong. Rahne returned to her human form, and the five friends looked at each other for a moment. Marie dashed up to Neville with a cry of delight while Dani, Rahne and Harry exchanged a three-way hug. Then Marie was hugging Dani, and Neville and Harry were pounding each other on the back. After that, Rahne and Neville were introduced. Neville stuck out a hand, but Rahne said, "Oh, to the Divell with it!" and hugged him.

Dani focused on Neville. "OK, Mr. Neville Longbottom, you just saved my life back there, so this time let's have no excuses. Come here!"

She grabbed him round the neck, pulled his face down to hers, and calmly proceeded to kiss him in a way that was anything but calm! For a moment, Neville didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, then he used them to hold Dani to him until she'd finished.

Eventually, she released him with the words, "There! I'll take my chances with Lavender. But, Neville, if that girl tries to dump you or to treat you badly because I kissed you, she'd damn well better be ready to take her chances with me! Capice?"

Neville eyed Dani. "Er, fine. But I don't think I'll tell her, if you don't mind."

"Now you're thinking," Dani said admiringly.

Marie was frowning at Harry. "Why did he call you 'Dunadan'? What does that mean?"

"Not a clue. Look, it's probably not important right now. Amagor said Sanctuary was waiting, and I'll bet we'll meet up with everyone else there-if they've survived," he added grimly. "Let's get going."

Despite Harry's reminder of the dangers they had all faced, nothing could really dampen the five youngsters' spirits as they set out down the one corridor that remained open.

***

The road between the chasms led to a normal passageway. Ron, Parvati, Luna and Bobby were proceeding along it with Luna explaining how she had decoded a magical scroll to open the door that had brought her to the ledge when four figures emerged from a doorway ahead of them.

"Ron!" shrieked Hermione. She was not usually demonstrative in public, but this time she positively flew into his open arms, and for a while the two were oblivious to anything else but each other.

There was much swapping of greetings; Hermione was introduced to Iceman, and the expanded group carried on together. Eventually, they came to an ordinary wooden door set into the corridor wall.

"Well," said Ron, "if that's the door I think it is, we're back where we started."

"Not really," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I'll bet Sanctuary is wherever it needs to be, like everything else here. We're outside normal time and space, I think."

"Some folk would say we've never been inside normal time and space," said Luna dryly.

Just then, they heard a dreadful sound coming round a bend in the corridor. It had to be called singing, everyone supposed, but only just! The song was Tainted Love, and the five people busily murdering it came into view, singing lustily. To be fair, both Dani and Rahne knew the song, and had good voices. Neville also had a good voice, but was shaky on the lyrics. Though the remaining two knew the words, Marie was wildly off key and Harry, with the best will in the world, couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.

Greetings were once again enthusiastic, and passionate between reunited couples. Finally, Harry led them through the door into Sanctuary. The room seemed larger than before, there were more bed alcoves and more seats at a longer table, but as yet no sign of Tully.

A few minutes later, the door opened again, and three figures stepped through. Harry had eyes only for the small, red-haired figure who ran to him from across the room. Then Ginny was holding him tight and her lips met his in one heated, lingering, loving kiss after another. They were so involved with each other that they didn't notice the final party appear, announced by Kitty's cry of joyful greeting to Peter.

Then the moment Ginny had been dreading arrived. She tried to hold Harry with one more kiss, but he put a finger to her lips and whispered, "Later. Lots more later, love. I promise!" He looked around, and said, "Kitty..."

There was an answering cry of "Harry!" and Ginny had to watch, her insides churning, as the two of them held each other close, exchanging gentle kisses on the cheek and lips, and chattering happily with each other. Then the feeling in the pit of Ginny's stomach turned to another kind of butterflies altogether, as a large hand came down gently on her shoulder and a deep voice murmured, "Aren't you gonna say hi, babe?"

She turned, and squealed in delight as Peter swept her up in his mighty arms and swung her round. She grabbed him round his great neck and covered his face with kisses. When he finally set her down, she saw Kitty and Harry standing side by side. Harry's face had an indulgent smile on it- Kitty was looking daggers! Gotcha! Ginny thought nastily.

For a while, there was good deal of milling around, as old friendships were renewed, and introductions were made. Ginny found herself being soundly hugged by Bob and Marie, and couldn't be jealous of the way Dani and Rahne made a fuss of Harry, if only because they made an equal fuss over Ron.

Then there was a sudden, loud pop and Tully materialised. "Welcome again, young sirs and ladies. Tully has prepared the bathing rooms for you. Please to place your garments in the baskets, so that they may be cleaned for the morrow. Clothes suitable for the night have been laid ready for each of you."

"Thank goodness for that!" said Hermione. "I had visions of us all standing in a row, bums on show, rubbing our knickers through."

"Never thought of that," admitted Ron, "but I like the image."

"Men never do think of washing," remarked Hermione with some asperity. "Good thing there are women to look after them! You might not notice, but you're getting just the tiniest bit rank, Mr Weasley!" She poked him playfully in the ribs.

"Oof!" said Ron. Then, "Tully, any chance of some grub?"

"Food will be ready when you have bathed, young sir."

"Shouldn't we debrief first?" Rogue wondered.

"Over dinner," Harry decided. "I can't answer for anyone else, but my stomach thinks my throat's been cut."

The boys' bathing room was large and comfortably warm. There was a communal pool-bath, as well as basins with jugs of hot and cold water, plenty of soap and towels, and an assortment of cutthroat razors that only Shiro had the nerve to touch. Relaxing in the hot water, Harry joined in the usual horseplay, flicking of towels, telling of off-colour jokes and singing of bawdy songs. He wondered briefly what the girls were doing next door. It was probably very different, he thought-apart from the off-colour jokes, of course! Then Ron's rich baritone voice rose in a song:

There were four-and-twenty virgins

Came down from Inverness

And when the ball was over

There were four-and-twenty less!

Singing...

Everyone roared into the chorus and, for a while, life was good!

The lads lingered longer than they might usually have done over bathing. The water felt so good after their long day! The garments set out for them proved to be white linen tunics and trousers, rather like pyjamas, soft and comfortable. They still managed to return to the main room ahead of the girls, where they found a table laid ready and groaning with food.

While they were debating whether to wait before eating, the other door swung open and the ladies emerged in a cloud of fragrant steam. There is something divinely sexy about a woman straight from her bath, Roberto thought. The white linen gowns the girls wore were long and modestly bulky, but didn't quite conceal their curves. He enjoyed the sight of faces innocent of makeup but still rosy from the warmth, loose, damp hair clinging prettily, bright eyes, and the wink of bare toes under the robes as they walked. Not forgetting that they were naked underneath. Roberto had to chide himself, Down boy! Fun and games later! as he met Dani's darkly smouldering glance.

"Let's eat!" said Rogue. Seamus noticed with quiet amusement how Harry automatically moved to the head of the table and Marie to the foot like a Duke and Duchess, he thought. He also noticed how the two groups, wizards and X-Men, intermingled easily as people sat down.

For a while, nobody said much, being too intent on taking the edge off his or her appetite. But, gradually, voices began to chime in with the details of everything that had happened during the day. Harry noticed something a little odd as Ron and Parvati gave their account of the Test of Honour. Parvati concluded by saying, "So I'm afraid I had to kiss your boyfriend to save his life, Hermione. I hope you don't mind. I promise I didn't enjoy it too much."

Hermione shrugged. "What can I say but thanks, Parvati?" She squeezed Ron's arm, "I'd rather have him back slightly used than not at all. Anyway, a kiss is just a kiss." As she said that, Harry saw her eyes cut to Roberto, who suddenly became very interested in the bottom of his tankard. Now then, now then.... he thought wonderingly, something going on there?

After every angle of the trials had been examined, the conversation became more general. People talked in groups, and began to move around with the ebb and flow of the chat. Kitty and Peter planted themselves next to Harry and Ginny. Peter sighed. "Give me a full stomach and a tankard of butterbeer, and I'm one happy little Mutant!"

"Little?" scoffed Kitty.

"Two out of three ain't bad!"

"Peter's easily satisfied," remarked Ginny.

Kitty gave her a glance. "That would explain certain prior...involvements, wouldn't it?"

"Fifteen-Love," Harry muttered to Peter, as though scoring a tennis match.

"Hmm," said Ginny to Kitty. "It's a matter of learning to make do, I suppose."

"Fifteen-All," said Peter.

"I'd say that Peter--and Harry--never pass up a chance for better things when they're available," Kitty purred.

"Thirty-Fifteen."

"They're adaptable--ready to take advantage of any port in a storm," drawled Ginny.

"Thirty-All."

"Knowing how to handle situations comes down to experience," Kitty theorised. "Lots of wide and varied experience. The more experience you have, the better you are at...most things."

"Forty-Thirty."

"Not every experience is valuable. Some are pointless or a waste of time, like self-pity and looking for sympathy..."

"Deuce!" declared Peter and Harry in chorus. Both girls turned to glare at their men. Harry and Peter stared back, wide-eyed. "What?" they inquired innocently until Peter put his head on the table and Harry leaned back in his seat, both howling with laughter.

The girls watched them for a moment, then exchanged knowing smiles. "They don't deserve us, do they?" Ginny observed to Kitty.

"Got that right," Kitty agreed. "No point in fighting over them. Truce?"

"For now," Ginny allowed.

Peter and Harry went in search of more butterbeer.

***

The evening drew on. When Seamus entertained himself by casting spells on the curtains of the alcoves, everyone wanted to know what he was up to. He explained, "Muffling spells--to stop sound getting out. I've been told I snore. I know Ron does, and when Peter gets started--"

"It's bad," Alison guessed.

"You ever hear taped whale song?" asked Bob, who roomed with Peter at Xavier's.

"That's bad!"

Seamus grinned. "Well, I reckon we all want a good night's...sleep...tonight."

When no one was looking, Lavender blew Seamus a little kiss.

Shortly after that, people started making for bed. Dani and Roberto vanished first. Bobby showed Marie a small vial he'd been carrying somewhere, and her eyes gleamed as she went off with him. Sam and Rahne shared a chaste but sincere kiss, before heading for adjacent beds.

Peter turned to Kitty to kiss her goodnight, but she took him firmly by the hand and led him to a bed, drawing the curtains behind them.

"Kitty, are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Yes, Peter, I am!" she asserted. "It's time and past time. In case you hadn't noticed, I love you."

"I love you, too," he told her, "but Kitty, I don't have any--"

"We don't have to do everything just now, Peter, but we can make a start." She blushed. "Only turn your back while I undress. I'm a little shy. "

He turned, hearing her robe fall to the floor and the bed creak. "You can look now," Kitty invited. Peter looked at her lying in the bed, smiled, and began to take off his clothes.

Ron drew the curtains across the alcove, surprised to see that the curtains on the four-poster had already been drawn. He slipped through them to see Hermione lying on the bed, quite naked, smiling up at him.

"Whoa!" he said. "You're eager tonight!"

She stared at him with troubled eyes. "Ron, I almost lost you today. I'll never be able to thank Parvati enough. But it struck me how much time you and I have wasted - time we could have, and should have, spent together. Let's not waste the time we have. Come here, Ron, and make love to me!"

Alison was settling down for a lonely night, when she heard someone clearing his throat. She stuck her head out from her four-poster to see Seamus looking through the outer curtains. "Now would you be mindin' if I were after joining you in there, acushla?" he asked.

"Mi casa, su casa." she replied, moving across the bed and tossing back the sheets. As Seamus joined her, she asked, "Can we still be friends tomorrow?"

"Well, and I'm hoping so, for sure!"

"That's all I wanted to know," Alison replied, holding her arms out to him.

Ginny shoved Harry onto the bed, whipped off her robe and straddled him. "You had better be in the mood tonight, Harry Potter!"

"Oh, I am, I am!" he replied, voice muffled as he pulled off his tunic.

Ginny leaned over and kissed him passionately, then looked serious for a moment. "Harry, are you taking your potion?"

"Yes, of course. I wanted to get into the habit ahead of time. Why?" he asked.

"I was wondering whether we should--I mean, today was dangerous, and tomorrow, who knows? Harry, I don't want to die a virgin, and I don't want to lose you without ever having made love!"

"Merlin! Don't get morbid on me, Ginny." He cupped her face in his hands. "We made our plans, and we're going to stick to them. We are going to come out of this alive, and we are going to celebrate your birthday just as we planned to. Now come here, young lady!"

He pulled her to him, and they didn't talk any more, except in whispered endearments.

***

Molly Weasley had spent the day worrying, which meant she had cleaned the house from top to bottom, done the laundry, dried it, ironed it and put it all away neatly. She had tried to read; she had guzzled tea, taken two showers and a bath, and had cooked three meals she left virtually untouched. Molly had even experimented with the children's Muggle music device, oddly enough finding more comfort in Ron's loud and vibrant heavy rock music than Hermione's wistful love songs or Harry's more complex choices. (Oasis? What sort of a name was that for a group of musicians?)

It was late, but she couldn't sleep. Her clock gave no relief, though it told her that Arthur, Bill and the twins were safe for now. Molly sat on the sofa in the living room, having been driven to the extremes of a small tot of whisky-a treat she normally shared with Arthur on the rare occasions they had the house to themselves. Finally, she dozed.

She was jolted back to awareness by the sensation that she was not alone. Molly opened her eyes to a stranger sitting on the sofa opposite her. For some reason, she was not afraid; instead, she looked the newcomer over carefully. He was a Muggle- so much was obvious from his sober, blue suit. It was difficult to tell his age; he could be forty or sixty. He was slender, totally bald, with a strong but kindly face and penetrating dark eyes. He looked...familiar.

"Professor...?" she hazarded.

The man smiled and nodded. "You are correct, and most perceptive, Mrs. Weasley. I am Charles Xavier. I've been trying to reach you for some time."

Molly's most basic instinct kicked in, and she made to rise. "Let me get you a cup of tea."

The Professor held up a hand. "Please, do not try to move! You are, in fact, asleep, or dozing, at least. Any attempt to rise will break our rather fragile link."

"I'm dreaming?"

"Not exactly. But I'm not physically present in your house. Perhaps another time, I will be able to enjoy the famous Weasley hospitality. For now, talk will have to do. Are you aware of what a telepath is, Mrs. Weasley?"

"The children told me it was like Legilimency."

"That is fairly accurate. To explain the difference would be time-consuming and unnecessary at the moment. Suffice to say that I possess the ability to project my thoughts into the minds of others when they are in a receptive state. Until just now, you were too preoccupied for me to gain your attention. When you fell into a doze, I was able to reach you."

"Why? What do you want?"

"Merely to reassure you. I have been maintaining a telepathic surveillance of my students throughout the day. They have faced a good many challenges, but are currently gathered together, whole and well. Harry and Ron are with them."

"Ginny and Hermione, as well?"

"They and the other kidnapped young wizards are together and enjoying a rather convivial evening."

Molly felt a great wave of joy. Somehow, she knew she could trust this man. He was, after all, the Professor X of whom the children had spoken with such respectful affection. "You're certain they're safe for now?"

"Yes. Tomorrow will bring more challenges, but I have every confidence in their ability to succeed." Xavier smiled. "My main concern at this moment is for you. You should try to sleep. When the children emerge from the Labyrinth, they will all be in need of your unique skills."

"My skills?" Molly demurred. "Why, bless you, Professor, I've no special skills!"

Xavier said, "The skill of making young people feel loved and wanted, no matter who they are, is one of the most precious talents in the world. But it takes strength to give out such feeling. If you wish, I can implant a suggestion in your mind which will allow you to sleep more easily."

Molly accepted this offer without hesitation. She had never cared for Sleeping Potions, and this at least would not taste dreadful. After making the Professor promise that he would visit The Burrow in person one day soon, she leaned back and closed her eyes. A few moments later, she opened them, truly awake this time, but feeling very relaxed. With a small smile, she rose and made her way upstairs to bed.