Under A Clouded Sun

Chapter Two : What The Moon Reveals.

By Arianrhod

Hermione looked incredulously across the breakfast table at Harry and Ron. Ron had just finished telling Hermione about Harry's dream. Harry was quiet, pensive and was paying little attention. Both Harry and Ron were more interested and concerned by the first part and the strange woman who claimed to have Gabrielle's voice. Hermione was as pale faced and puffy eyed from her disrupted night as they were and was distinctly more interested in the part of the dream that concerned her.

"So in this dream Malfoy was in my dormitory?" she asked again.

"Yes, Hermione," Ron answered, exasperated.

Then Hermione dropped her bombshell and said, "Malfoy was in my dormitory last night."

"What?" exclaimed Ron and Harry. They looked at her appalled, Ron's fork-full of bacon and egg stopped half way to his mouth and Harry's elbow came down hard in his pancakes as he looked up.

Hermione allowed herself a small grin, their expressions were enough to make her laugh out loud but she knew that she had to reassure them and explain Malfoy's proposition.

When she had finished, she looked up and across the hall at the Slytherin table. Draco was looking over, he had seen Harry and Ron's response to Hermione's words and although he could not hear what was being said he knew from their reactions what she had just told them. He caught her eye and gave a barely perceivable nod.

Ron and Harry were still digesting her words. Finally Harry said, "So I dreamt that Malfoy was in your dormitory and he actually was....Does that make it a vision or something?"

Hermione considered. "That's not impossible," she said. "I mean you did have those dream things in fourth year when You-Know-Who was on the rise didn't you? It could be something like that."

"You mean to do with You-know-who?" asked Ron, slightly louder then Harry would have liked.

A few people turned around and the three of them hastily turned their conversation to Quidditch. When everyone else had lost interest again, Harry muttered, "It could be to do with Voldemort, you know. That woman laughed exactly like him. It even made my scar hurt."

Hermione looked thoughtful, "So perhaps both parts of the dream were visions..."

They were silent for a few minutes, all contemplating the enormity of what they were mixed up in if Lord Voldemort was involved. Harry's past encounters with the dark lord had not exactly made the three of them enthusiastic to do so again.

Hermione dragged her thoughts away from the dark and the shadows of fear and death that lurked there as a another thing occurred to her. "What about Malfoy's proposition?" she asked. "What are we going to do about that?"

Ron said, "We can't give it to him though, can we?" His face was wistful, Hermione could see he was envisaging the new Gryffindor brooms and realised how much self-control it was taking Ron, sixth child of seven, to turn away from the one thing he had always wanted. And she admired Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for bringing up seven such true Gryffindors.

But she also knew that Ron would never forgive himself for giving in to Malfoy. To any Malfoy. He had been brought up to that as well.

"But we would get the message back, wouldn't we?" she asked.

"No, Malfoy would tell us who took it and how to get it which would probably be a suicidal trap." Harry said with conviction, his hatred for Draco showing in his voice.

Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Harry's right," Ron spoke up. "I bet that Draco's in league with that hooded nutter and they've listened to the message somehow and found that it tells them that they need the key for something. So even if we do get the message it'll only tell us that we need the key," he finished triumphantly.

"But," Hermione said slowly and deliberately. "If we found the use for the key then maybe we'd have the chance to use it before Thursday. In which case we could hand it over to Malfoy. I mean, I know he lies all the time," she carried on, speeding up. "But I don't think he was lying about this." As soon as the words had escaped her mouth she wondered why she had said them, then she thought back to their strange encounter the night before and realised it was because she believed they were true.

The other two both looked as though they were considering her words. Her conviction seemed to be worth something, even when it did ask them to think something that was against what they had believed and lived through for the last seven years. Hermione could see that in their faces. She could guess that the same thoughts were running through both of their minds because they were also running through hers. What other choice do we have? We need to find out about the message and who took it and why.

"But can we steal the key back if he is lying or double crossing us or if we do need the key again, after all?" asked Ron hopefully. Hermione mentally revoked her true Gryffindor thought and grinned across at Harry who in turn grinned at Ron.

"Of course."

The bell rang and everyone reluctantly made their way to lessons.

* * *

Double History of Magic dragged that morning. Harry tried flicking through the text book and then through Hermione's copy of "Hogwarts, a History" in search of anything that might tell them anything about the key. He was vaguely looking for something like the story of the Chamber of Secrets everyone had so eagerly read in the second year. He wasn't really expecting to find anything useful but it was something to keep his restless mind occupied.

He found nothing of interest at all in the History of Magic textbook but that wasn't really a surprise. He hadn't made it more than a quarter of the way through "Hogwarts, a History" when the bell rang for break. He wondered how on earth Hermione had read it so many times. And if she ever wondered about all the fun things she could have been doing in the large slice of her life, that he felt, she had wasted in doing so.

He was heading up to the Library at break when Ron called after him,

"Harry, where are you going? Aren't you coming to see Gabrielle?"

Ginny fell in beside them as they headed for the Hospital Wing. It appeared she had been listening to their conversation at breakfast and already knew about Harry's dream. Her face was creased with concern when she looked at him and Ron was on the point of commenting when he stopped. What would be the use? While Ginny had long ago got over her crush on Harry, she remained the closest thing he had to a little sister and Ginny worried and fussed about all her brothers, Harry included.

They reached the Hospital Wing only to find that Gabrielle was asleep having been awake most of the night. They sat around her bed just as they had the night before. Was it only the night before? Ron wondered. It seemed so much longer ago than that.

As there was obviously nothing Gabrielle could tell them at present. They four of them spent lunch time in the Library, but to no avail.

* * *

Over the next few days, Ron and Harry took to wandering about the school with the Marauder's Map. They could not understand how they could have explored every passage and room in Hogwarts and not have found what the key unlocked. Hermione had to explain that since the map had been made by Harry's dad and his friends, it would only show places they knew about and evidently no-one knew about this key.

Privately she wondered how Fleur had got the key if it opened something at Hogwarts. And if it wouldn't make more sense that it opened a box or cupboard etc at Beauxbatons. But there was nothing else they could do. They could hardly go to Beauxbatons until they had Gabrielle's message which they couldn't get until they had solved the mystery of the key. It just went around in impossible circles.

Since she was the only one able to make effective use of the Library, Hermione did most of the research, helped sometimes by any of the others but mainly their help was more distracting then useful. So Harry, Ron and Ginny helped in their own ways, flying high to search, wandering the grounds or gleaning what they could from listening and gossiping. Harry and Ron made several trips to the Hospital Wing but were told that Gabrielle was very distressed and they couldn't ask her any questions in case they upset her even more.

The stress and extra work took its toll on all of them, but Harry in particular. He was plagued by the nightmare of the cloaked woman and the land under the clouded sun. Whenever he closed his eyes he found himself transported there and would wake up scared and more tired then he had been before he had fallen asleep.

Before long he was using Waking Charms to prevent himself sleeping. These are fine if used to keep the body fresh and alert over a short period of time (they are often used for students doing late night revision), but over long periods they sap the body's strength to keep going. Harry did not tell Hermione, Ron or Ginny about his use of the charm, knowing it would worry them, but privately he knew he couldn't keep it up for long.

* * *

It was Monday morning and things were getting desperate. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seventh year Charms class was being held down by the lake where they were being taught the Velum Aped Charm by Professor Flitwick, which allows the user to walk on water.

Hermione was mastering the Charm as usual. In no time she was striding out to the centre of the lake with the more advanced Ravenclaws while the rest of the class splashed and stumbled on the shallows. Bored with watching fish flee the Giant Squid below her toes, she had once again begun to rack her brain for new subjects to look up in hope of finding out the secret of the key.

Her eyes fell on the massive cliff below Hogwarts School. She had only seen it for this angle once, and that had been in the dark. She hadn't appreciated how sheer it was. Not smooth, but almost too straight, it didn't quite seem natural when you really looked at it. At that thought, she vaguely felt something turning over in the depths of her mind, she tried to concentrate on it but in had slipped away again, back under the surface like a fish from a hook. She tried to keep her mind on it as her eyes roved idly over the surface of the rock face. But try as she might, it began to wander. She could see the moon just raising to her left, funny that it should be out this early, she mused. The moon made her think of all the night time excursions she had had with Ron and Harry and she suspected, with a smile, that it always would. All those excursion lit only by moon light. Those words triggered off a connection to idea she'd vaguely had earlier and pulled it back to the surface.

She remembered a muggle fantasy book she had read the summer before her letter had arrived, when she had still believed that magic only existed in books. There had been something in it, moonlight.. words on a rock face... a doorway.. Then her wildly casting mind found the important piece of information. Moon letters. The doorway and its riddle had only been visible in moon or starlight. She had never considered that moon letters might really exist. But what if they did? Would they really be worth looking into? Well, it wasn't as though they had a whole lot of ideas at the moment. Anything was worth a try.

Professor Flitwick called them back at that moment. Hermione trudged back up to the castle with a damp Ron and a sodden Harry, deep in thought. She headed straight up to the Library. Harry and Ron paid little attention, they were used to Hermione's ways.

* * *

Harry was leaving Quidditch practice with Ron that evening when Hermione came bustling up to meet them. Hermione had been hesitant to ask a favour of him after she had seen him unable to even walk more then a few paces over the shallowest sections of the lake. Even Neville had managed better. But, being Harry, he denied anything was wrong and had agreed readily to her request. She wondered if it would be wise to reminded him of what he had promised and decided that if she did not then he would only remember later himself and be angry.

"Harry," she said. "Did you forget you were going to fly a scanning flight over the Forbidden Forest tonight?"

Harry looked sheepish. His exhaustion really was showing now. He was having to use a Waking Charm every few hours. He had in truth forgotten and right now it seemed more then he could manage.

"Oh, right, 'course," he nodded. Heavily, he un-slung his broom and was about to take off when Ron saw the exhaustion in his face.

"Would you like me to come too, Harry?" he asked, concerned.

Automatically, Harry shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Hermione probably needs some help."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, I've found a new reference to finish looking up and Ginny was supposed to help me but I can't find her." Her expression changed as she looked at Harry's slumped shoulders and heavy movements. "But I can manage. You must be tired after Quidditch practice. Ron should go instead. Come back up to the castle, Harry."

He shook his head again, more to clear it then to reply and took off. Below him Hermione and Ron exchanged a concerned and exasperated glance before setting off towards the library.

* * *

Harry flew in wide circles over the trees. The wind of the January afternoon was biting and he began to shiver in just his Quidditch robes. The cold combined with the sleep deprivation which hung over him due to the fact that he had not slept for over five days. He desperately wanted to land somewhere and sleep dreamlessly for ever.

He forced himself to pay attention to the landscape below him. No, he could not see any buildings or even clearings and just to wander beneath the cover of the trees was a risk he wasn't willing to take without a more concrete aim.

It's useless, he realised. Wondering why he was bothering, he turned his broomstick back towards Hogwarts. We'll never find it. Why don't we just hand the stupid key over to Malfoy and his friends and forget the whole stupid thing? But really he knew why not. He knew Gabrielle had dragged herself here under such peril and injury for him. He knew it was partly his fault her voice had been stolen because she had come here for him and he knew deep down that that was a bond and binding he could never refute or deny.

This thought gave him strength and he managed to land almost on his feet on the Quidditch pitch. He intended to go help Ron and Hermione but as he replaced his broom in its rack he felt a wave of absolute and utter exhaustion wash over him. Every fibre of his body wanted to sleep and every fibre of his resolve was fighting that impulse. He sank to his knees.

* * *

Ginny rushed into the Changing Rooms, her cheeks flushed with excitement. In one hand she clutched letter while her other hand held her hastily flung on winter cloak tight about her. Around her neck was the gold and white, Egyptian silk scarf that Bill had given her less then two months ago, for Christmas.

"Ron! Ron, you'll never guess what! Bill's getting marr-" Her voice trailed off as she saw that she was late. Quidditch practice was over and her brother was gone. The only person left in the room was a boy sitting hunched in a corner, his face grey and strained.

Harry.

He looked up at her from under his stark black fringe and the grey light that slanted through one of the small windows picked out a look of such weary sadness and fear on his pale face that Ginny ran to him, concerned.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

He nodded, a tired smile that didn't reach his eyes briefly flicked across his face . "Yeah, I'm fine Gin. Just a bit tired, that's all." He reached for his wand. "I'm fine, just let me do a Waking Charm and I'll be fine."

Ginny suddenly realised the reason for his piteous state. "No," she said firmly, picking his wand up and holding it out reach. "Harry, how many Waking Charms have you used?"

And much to her astonishment, Harry burst into tears.

She forgot at that instant that he was the great Harry Potter and that she was insignificant Ginny Weasley. She forgot that the whole school knew she had had a crush on him for about four years. Suddenly none of that mattered, he was just someone in trouble, in pain and she was someone who might just be able to help.

She gently put her arms around him and gathered him against her while making soothing sounds. He began to speak between sobs, telling about the last few days as though it was dripping out of him with his tears. She help him tightly and just let him talk.

Suddenly, Ginny felt something hard and metallic under her hand and recoiled. It was the key, on a chain around Harry's neck, warm from his body and she had felt something that she hadn't felt in six years. It was like touching the diary again. Tom's diary. Suddenly all the memories of that miserable year came flooding back.

She realised that if someone had asked her about it, she would have said that she didn't get any particular feeling from the diary. Now she realised that was wrong. It was barely tangible and she had never consciously noticed it, like the smell of a house you've lived in all your life, but as soon as she felt it again, having been away from it for so long, she recognised the feeling instantly and it conjured up an image of Tom standing over her in the Chamber, his handsome face twisted in a triumphant smirk and she knew that the key was full of dark magic.

Desperately she pushed back the memories and turned to Harry. He was looking at her, his pale face streaked with tears turned silver by the bleak light. His dark hair dishevelled. His glasses were askew as well, she noticed, making him seem, more than ever, like a lost little boy.

"Come on," she said, speaking gently. "We need to get back up to the castle." She helped him up and they set off across the frosted grass, Ginny's arm tight around Harry as she supported most of his weight. Halfway up, Ginny stopped. "Harry, can you give me the key please? I don't think you should wear it for a while."

He was too tired to care so he nodded and her hands slipped up to unclasp the chain. Having re-clasped it around her own neck they set off again. The key seemed to burn into her chest with more then Harry's body heat. She knew it was all in her mind but having an object of strong dark power around her neck made her nervous and she realised what she had to do.

Ginny winced as she imagined the trio's anger with her. Hopefully after she had explained, Ron and Hermione would understand. After all, they worried about Harry as much as she did, if not more, and would agree that his safety came before anything else. Harry wouldn't though. He wouldn't understand and his anger with her would be hard to bear.

Arriving in the dormitory, Ginny gently lowered him until he was sitting on the side of his bed. Luckily it was still quite early so the dormitory was deserted and the common room mercifully quiet.

She looked at him considering, undoubtedly the best thing for him would be to sleep but the idea of putting him to bed didn't really appeal to her. Gingerly she opened his trunk and found, neatly folded on top, a pair of red and white striped, cotton pyjamas. Fighting the strong urge to laugh, Ginny handed Harry the pyjamas, telling him to get changed.

Quietly she slipped out and over to her dormitory where she retrieved a bottle of purple potion. It was a potion to give dreamless sleep which she had been taught to make by Madam Pomfrey at the end of her first year. It was an advanced potion, but Dumbledore had told her that it would help and so she learnt. It did help. She knew she would never have slept that first summer without it. Sometimes she still took it now if nightmares of the chamber threatened.

Ginny returned to Harry's dormitory to find him sitting exactly as she had left him, fighting an internal battle. She signed. It took constant nagging to get him to lie down so she could slip his shoes off. Figuring that he would just have to sleep in his Quidditch robes tonight, she measured him out some of the potion. He sipped it suspiciously.

"This tastes familiar, Gin."

"It's a potion for dreamless sleep. You had it in your fourth year."

He nodded and drained the glass before sinking back in the first real sleep he'd had in days. Carefully Ginny covered him in the extra blanket she found at the foot of his bed and his eyes flicked open. Before she could react, his hand shot out and caught her wrist.

"Ginny, please don't tell Hermione and Ron about this, that you saw me in this state. They'd worry."

"But the key.. the nightmares...." she protested.

"You can tell them some of it, but please, not everything."

Ginny's brown eyes were worried and her free hand toyed with a loose curl as she tried to think. She had no answer. She didn't have tell them everything, it was true. She could explain without telling the whole story. And for a minute Harry's face made her resolve weaken, did she really have to do what she was about to?

But she knew she did, because she realised now that these dreams and the arrival of the key weren't a coincidence. The dreams were being sent, controlled, through the key. She remembered how Tom had begun by appearing in dreams and how Hermione had once told her that in ancient warfare, a battle had been won by one army making noises that kept awake and scared the enemy soldiers. An enemy who is tired and scared is already half beaten.

"I promise," she whispered. Instantly the will that had kept Harry awake failed and he fell deeply asleep. Ginny was glad because that meant he couldn't seen the guilt in her eyes as she prepare to go and hand the key in to Dumbledore.

* * *

It had been over an hour since Hermione had slammed her library book shut with a cautious feeling of triumph and hurried to sign it out from Madame Pince. She signed out a further three or four books before she was satisfied, carefully placing each in a bag she had brought with her especially. On top of them she packed a quill (which she had spelled to stay inked but not to drip) and an empty notebook. She now knew that there could be moon letters on that cliff and the almost too straight look it had meant that it could have been cut to disguise a doorway. She hoped this hunch paid off, but deep down she would be surprised if they did find anything, because she actually had no concrete evidence at all.

She and Ron were now walking along the base of the cliff, their eyes raking its surface. At least, Hermione was walking, she was using the Velum Aped Charm they had learned earlier. Ron, however, was edging his way along the narrow rock ledge at the water's edge, made treacherous and slippery by the gathering wind which whipped waves over it, drenching Ron's feet.

When they reached the hidden harbour in the middle of the cliff, Ron stayed at the entrance, holding onto the ivy curtain for support while Hermione walked further out so that she could see more of the cliff.

Bending her head against the wind, she consulted one of the books that she had brought with her, very careful that she didn't drop it in the centre of the lake. Yes, this was right, all they had to do was wait for the moon. At that moment, Hermione was aware of the world around her becoming brighter. She also heard Ron's yell

She looked up to see bright fingers of moonlight brushing the grey rock. And under their gentle touch, the shape of a door began to grow. Above it were a number of unfamiliar runes, well, unfamiliar to Ron anyway. Hermione allowed herself a smile as the satisfaction of being right flooded through her. She dug the notebook out of her rucksack and carefully sketched the runes before making her way back to Ron.

That was when she saw them. Three figures blocking their way up from the lake. Two massive, clunky shapes and one lithe, slender one. Even as silhouettes they were instantly recognisable. Crabbe, Goyle and Draco Malfoy.

In the fast fading moonlight, she saw the look on Ron's face and began to run, anxious to reach them, having correctly recognised trouble, before it began. By the time she had run across the remaining space of water, Goyle had swung the first punch, hitting Ron's cheek and knocking him down. Ron kicked out with his foot as he fell, catching Goyle's kneecap, Goyle lost his balance, crashed into Crabbe and both fell into the shallows of the lake. Leaving Draco standing there, balanced and ready with his wand outstretched.

Ron was still down, his head was bleeding from where he had hit it on the rock. Hermione's wand was in her bag, on her back, under the books. There was no time to reach it. Hermione didn't think, she hurled herself at Draco's wand arm, hurling herself between him and Ron in the process.

He was strong but she managed to pull him out over the water and to her dismay heard him utter the Velum Aped Charm, at the same time shrugging out of her grip. They stood there for a moment, on water the colour of moonlight, and stared at each other intently. To Hermione's surprise the malice in his eyes sunk under a layer of strange courtesy.

"Enjoying your night time stroll, Granger?"

Hermione nodded coldly. Then, almost to quickly to be real he caught hold of her shoulders and whirled her around until his wand was pressed into the bag. The bag with all the books and references to the moon letters. The bag with the notebook containing the runes. Hermione could feel his breath stirring her hair as he said the spell that would make the bag go up in flames. Nothing happened.

"I'm impressed, Granger." Draco said in a warm rush into her ear. "I didn't think you'd have been smart enough to put those in a spell-proof bag. I guess I was wrong." There was an odd tone in his voice, not quite amusement. Hermione couldn't work it out and she couldn't see his face because he was still holding her tightly from behind. His body was shielding hers from the icy wind that was now blowing across the lake. Everything seemed surreal, lit not only by the blazing moon and stars but also by their reflection in the rumpled lake.

Ron's voice rung clearly from behind them, "Take your hands off her, Malfoy."

Draco turned them around slowly until he could see that Ron was holding his wand in the spell casting position. He laughed lightly as if the whole thing was only a game, gave Hermione a disarming smile, and released her. She could feel the places where his fingers had gripped her. She would have bruises tomorrow.

Turning, Hermione tried to stare him down but realised too late that no-one can outstare a Malfoy. She settled for icy haughtiness instead and nodded before rushing past him in a sweep that she hoped couldn't have been mistaken for a retreat. A retreat to Ron and relative safety.

* * *

Hermione and Ron burst into the quiet Common Room, making ripples in the silence. Ripples that lapped around the still figure of Ginny, sitting straight in a armchair, opposite the portrait hole.

She looked up from her book when they entered.

"Where's Harry?" Ron blurted out.

"He's gone to bed. He was tired." Ginny answered truthfully.

"Did he find anything on his flight?" asked Hermione. Ginny shook her head.

Ron noticed that the book was upside down. He looked at her curiously. In many ways his sister was still similar to the little girl that he and Harry had rescued in her first year. She was still small and slightly built, still pale and freckled and still had her striking red hair.

But mentally she had changed a great deal. Sixth year Ginny was strong minded and confident in a way Mrs Weasley had never believed possible after her ordeal in her first year. She was also kind in a quiet sort of way. Too kind for her own good, Ron often felt.

Now, however she looked as though she was stealing herself for a big blow. Her expression as she looked up made them check. Ginny didn't even comment on the fact that they were sopping and bedraggled, or that Ron had a split lip and a cut over one eye, though her eyes darted to it and he knew that under normal circumstances she would have fussed about it with a healing spell. But now she was holding herself back. There was something more important that needed to be said. Something important that she was going to say.

She got up carefully and put her book down slowly and deliberately on a side table. For a moment her mouth seemed to search for the right words.

"I.. I've been talking to Harry," she said in a small, clear voice. "The dream has been coming back, you know, the one about the woman and the castle." She looked at them and they nodded. "I gave him some potion to stop him dreaming before he went to bed. But I don't think it will be necessary. He wouldn't have dreamt tonight anyway."

"Why not?" whispered Hermione.

"Because, I think I know what was causing those dreams," Ginny continued. "What was sending them. It was the key. Remember how Tom's diary sent me dreams. Remember how its strength grew as I fed it with my secrets. We've all been feeding that key's power with our endless searching, talking and thinking. None of the four of us have thought of anything else since we found it and now it is strong. I felt that when I touched it earlier today. It was just like touching.." Ginny made her voice steady. "Like touching the diary again. You probably don't understand, but listen to me, I know, there's no way I could mistake that."

There was a silence. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look, they would never question something which would keep Harry safe. But their looks spoke of sinking hearts. They knew something else.

"And where is the key now?" asked Ron, in voice that said he was almost afraid to ask, but had to know.

Ginny steeled herself for the rage that would come. "I gave it to Dumbledore," she finally whispered.

Hermione looked like a drowning person whose last hope has just been swamped by a wave. She sank back in an armchair.

"Ginny, you idiot. We found the door."