Congenital Magnetism

Draco watched Ron hurry out of the library to find Hermione, but his only thought, now that he had the second half of the potion recipe, was to find Harry and travel back to the twentieth century. As Ron had promised, the library assistant fetched a servant to take Draco to Harry’s room, but Draco insisted on stopping at the room where Ron had let him change into sixteenth-century clothes. Draco retrieved his Hogwarts school robes from the corner where he’d thrown them, then let the servant lead him to Harry’s room.

As soon as Harry saw a smiling Draco holding his school robes and the missing part of the potion recipe, he reached under his shirt and pulled out the chain that the Time-Turner was hanging from. Harry took the chain off and set the Time-Turner on a table.

“We get back the same way we came,” Harry said. “As soon as we touch the Time-Turner together, we should start traveling. Let’s change clothes before we leave.”

“Hey, Harry”—Draco had pulled his robes over his head—“remember when we were in Weasley’s library yesterday, reading the first half of the potion recipe? What do you think that last ingredient is? It’s the only ingredient we don’t have at Hogwarts. Phyllo something.”

Harry looked at the first half of the potion recipe and read the name at the end of the list of ingredients. “Phyllo pastry dough. I’ve never heard of it. I guess we’ll have to figure that out when we get back to Hogwarts.”

After they’d changed back into their school robes, Draco slipped his arm around Harry and brought his head forward until their foreheads were touching. “Let’s go home, angel eyes.”

Harry and Draco slowly reached their hands forward. Their hands touched the Time-Turner at the same moment, and they found themselves back in Harry’s room on the sixth floor of Hogwarts Castle, the temporary sleeping quarters Dumbledore had given Harry. Almost unwilling to believe they were home again, in their own time and place, they walked over to the window and looked down at the courtyard below and saw familiar students and teachers rushing to class. Harry and Draco collapsed into each other’s arms in relief, remaining glued together for a time, just savoring the joy of finally being home.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, “I’m curious to know why we had to go back in time four hundred years to get this potion recipe, aren’t you?”

Draco was kissing the hollow of Harry’s neck, but stopped and looked up when he heard Harry’s question. “That’s right,” Draco said. “They told us we’d only be going back in time four weeks. Where the hell is that board for sending a message?”

There it was, still lying on the writing desk, the wooden board with Draco’s small bas-relief sculpture of a Greek temple attached to the top. Harry had the board in his hands while Draco snatched a piece of parchment. Both of them were more than ready to register their complaints. Draco wrote down his message in a hasty scrawl.

 

Hello, dearest spirits. This is Draco Malfoy. Harry and I are back from our little excursion to London. We have a few questions for you.

 

ESN Reply>> Mr. Malfoy, we hope you and Harry were successful in your search for the potion recipe. We took care to send Mr. Weasley a letter with a detailed description of the potion you’re looking for. We hope he didn’t have any trouble finding it. ★

 

Harry took his turn writing down a response.

 

This is Harry. Ron’s family had a huge library with a very helpful library assistant, although one part of the potion recipe was in the library at Malfoy Manor, in Wiltshire. But this potion recipe looks like the one we’re looking for. The summary says it’s used to control the powers of romantic attraction created by magical creatures, and Draco and I recognized all the ingredients. They’re the names of all the plants and flowers we collected in the bog areas near Hogwarts last week. I don’t mean to quibble, but you told us we’d be traveling into the past four weeks. You do realize we wound up four centuries in the past, don’t you?

 

ESN Reply>> Yes, our translation database was not what it should be regarding time units. Please forgive the oversight. We’re always trying to improve our translation abilities since wizards correspond with us using so many different languages. We hope the mix-up didn’t cause any undue inconvenience. ★

 

Draco had been waiting for some time to vent a few concerns. He wrote quickly and pressed the quill hard against the parchment as he wrote.

 

This is Draco Malfoy. My guess is that Weasley and Granger used their guest accounts and followed Harry and me. If they hadn’t done something so irritating, we wouldn’t have run across them. I thought they were supposed to be emergency contacts, and I fail to see where there was any emergency that required their presence.

 

ESN Reply>> Yes, Mr. Malfoy, your guess that they used their guest accounts to follow you is right, but it’s quite incorrect to say you wouldn’t have run across them if they hadn’t used those guest accounts. The previous lives the four of you lived in the sixteenth century are what they are, and nothing would have changed that. Even if Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger had chosen not to use their guest accounts to follow you, they would both have been there when you arrived, and your circumstances would have been exactly the same. The only difference is that since they followed you to the sixteenth century, they have returned knowing everything that happened during their one-day visit. If they hadn’t followed you, they would know nothing of their sixteenth-century existences. We don’t really know if Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger will come to appreciate their newfound knowledge. As some commentators have suggested, ignorance is bliss. ★

 

Draco was pressing the quill so violently that it threatened to tear the parchment.

 

I really can’t see why you couldn’t just have sent us somewhere where we wouldn’t run into Weasley and Granger at all. Would that have been asking for too much?

 

ESN Reply>> But running into Mr. Weasley, as you put it, was quite necessary because the correct potion recipe was located at the Weasley family’s residence in sixteenth-century London. Some things in life are unavoidable. Wouldn’t you agree? And besides, it is our opinion that when Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger decided to use their guest accounts to follow you, this actually benefited the project you and Harry are collaborating on. One of the most important requirements for the success of your project is trust and understanding between you and Harry. Since Harry named Mr. Weasley as both his emergency contact and the recipient for any packages while he was gone, we concluded that Mr. Weasley must be a close friend of Harry’s. Mr. Malfoy, we think it’s jolly that your one-day excursion offered you and Mr. Weasley a change of circumstances so that the two of you could become better acquainted. What better way to accomplish that than a completely different set of life experiences in a different century? ★

 

Draco looked as though he might explode.

 

Jolly is it? He knew my ancestral home, Malfoy Manor, as well as I did because he spent so much time visiting me during his childhood. I refuse to discuss the outrageous extent of our familiarity in this past existence in the sixteenth century. Suffice to say that Weasley knew the location of a birthmark at the top of my inner thigh. How jolly do you think that is?

 

ESN Reply>> You see? Never underestimate how useful a change of scene can be when you need to make progress. I’m sure you understand Harry’s friend ever so much better now. ★

 

Draco’s grip on the quill was so tight that Harry had to ease it out of his hand before the quill snapped in two. Harry wrote down a question he hoped would change the subject.

 

This is Harry again. Are Ron and Hermione still using their guest accounts?

 

ESN Reply>> No, their guest accounts had a one-day time limit. Miss Granger arrived back at Hogwarts School just before you and Mr. Malfoy did, and Mr. Weasley arrived one hour before that. ★

 

I suppose they were surprised to arrive at Hogwarts wearing sixteenth-century clothes.

 

ESN Reply>> No. As we explained before, they weren’t really traveling in time like you and Mr. Malfoy were. They were merely reliving a previous life, and they appeared back in your time exactly the same way they left. You and Mr. Malfoy, on the other hand, were able to return with whatever clothes you were wearing and any souvenirs you had on your person because you were genuine time travelers. That’s why you still have the parchment pages for the potion recipe you were looking for. ★

 

Draco felt in the pocket of his robe, and he still had the small parchment scroll Hermione had given him in the sixteenth century, the potion recipe for taming frizzy, bushy hair. Draco idly wondered what Hermione’s reaction would be if he gave her a copy of the same hair-care potion she had created for herself in the sixteenth century. But the potion recipe Draco and Harry were working on was a more pressing matter.

“Harry, ask them about the last ingredient in the potion recipe. The one with the crazy name. It’s the only ingredient we don’t have yet.”

 

I’ve got one last question that Draco just reminded me of. There’s one ingredient in this potion recipe we don’t have yet, and we’ve never even heard of it. It’s called phyllo pastry dough. What’s that supposed to be?

 

ESN Reply>> Don’t worry about the characteristics of that ingredient. You’ll become familiar with its use when you start to follow the potion instructions. We’re sure you’ll be able to find that ingredient in most cities or towns. Get in touch, Harry, when the potion is finished. Until then. Cheers. ★

 

Draco stood up and said, “I’ll go to Hogsmeade. There must be some wizard or witch who’s heard of… What’s it called?”

“Phyllo pastry dough,” Harry said, reading from the potion recipe. “I’ll go down to the Potions lab and start assembling the ingredients while you’re gone.”

Draco’s left eyebrow shot up. “I don’t know if that’s such a great idea. What if you run into some of your many admirers on the way? The only thing that puts your powers of Veela attraction on hold is if I’m with you, but I’ll be in Hogsmeade.”

“I’ve got that figured out. I’ll just use my Invisibility Cloak.”

Draco shrugged. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”

Once Draco had left, Harry spent some time going over the list of ingredients. Quite a while had passed when Harry put the potion recipe down and opened the drawer where he’d left his Invisibility Cloak—only to find a note from Hermione in place of the Cloak.

 

Harry,

My apologies, but I had to borrow your Invisibility Cloak. I got back from my little trip to London and I’m trying to find Ron. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t know if he’ll go to Snape’s office or maybe Professor Dumbledore’s office first. I’d much rather look for him without anyone noticing me. I promise I’ll return your Invisibility Cloak as soon as I’m finished. See you soon, Harry.

Hermione

 

Harry was on the sixth floor of the castle, and getting down to the Potions lab in the dungeons without the Invisibility Cloak was now a rather dodgy proposition. The Veela-inspired craziness was still a problem whenever Draco wasn’t close by, and Draco had to be halfway to Hogsmeade by now. But what was Harry supposed to do? Wait in his room like a five-year-old child for Draco to escort him to the dungeons? Harry dismissed the idea as cowardly. Besides, Harry was at more of an advantage now than he’d been on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of term when the effects of his Veela attraction had taken him completely by surprise. Greg Goyle had taken his wand from him before Harry even knew the extent of his Veela-related difficulties, and his wand had then passed into Terry Boot’s possession shortly afterwards. That wouldn’t happen this time around. Forewarned is forearmed. Harry put both halves of the potion recipe in his pocket, and his wand was firmly in his grip as he left his room and eased his way down the corridor.

Classes were most likely in session, and Harry had made it as far as the Long Gallery, near the Viaduct Entrance, when his luck finally ran out. Lavender Brown and Seamus Finnigan were late for class and rounded a corner just as Harry was turning the same corner from the other direction. When the three collided with each other, Lavender let out a surprised squeal.

“Harry, where have you been all this time? I have to get to class, but I’m so glad you’re back.” Lavender paused, looking disoriented. She waved her hand in front of her face, as though a flying insect were distracting her. “You really should do something about all those sparkly pieces of glitter that keep flying off you. They make it really hard to concentrate.”

Lavender hurried off to class, leaving Harry alone with Seamus, who was intent on making up for lost time.

“Harry, I haven’t seen you for days—since you were in the hospital wing. You know, I was kind of standoffish when I last saw you, wasn’t I? And I don’t even know why.”

Harry knew why Seamus wasn’t all over him in the hospital wing. Draco had been there, and Draco’s presence now had the effect of neutralizing Harry’s Veela powers of attraction. But at the moment, Draco was somewhere in Hogsmeade… and Seamus had his hand around Harry’s waist. But Harry sure as hell kept a firm grip on his wand, at least this time around.

“Seamus, I don’t have time to chat.” Harry was already out of Seamus’s grasp and heading in the direction of the Viaduct Entrance. “I have a few errands to run.”

Seamus had caught up with Harry and was about to lay hold of him, but Harry was too quick and already had his wand pointed at Seamus.

Immobulus!

Seamus was safely frozen in place as Harry left, but things were getting dicey. As Harry passed near the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower, he had a sudden inspiration. Fleur. He hadn’t spoken to her since the evening before, and she might have more information that could prove useful. Harry was at the Viaduct Entrance, and the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower stood close by. He darted into Minerva McGonagall’s office before anyone had a chance to spot him and threw some Floo powder into the fireplace. When he walked into the flames and stated his destination, Harry found himself looking into the same parlor in the Delacour family residence that he had seen on his first visit. Fleur was sitting at a table piled high with books and manuscripts, and the green flames in the fireplace seized her attention.

“Harry! I’m so glad you paid a visit. How have you been managing?”

“Not that great right now. I’m trying to get down to the Potions lab, which is in the Hogwarts dungeons, but one of the guys from Gryffindor was chasing me down the corridor. I had to cast an Immobulus charm on him.”

Fleur’s silvery laugh echoed through the parlor. “Well, Harry. Aren’t you just a little slice of chaos?”

“Erm, I’d rather not be if I had my choice. I was wondering if you found any more information about Veela attraction. I’m really hoping the potion that Draco and I are working on will do the trick. But just in case it doesn’t, have you any other ideas?”

“As a matter of fact, Harry, yes. I followed up on the only set of circumstances under which unwanted Veela attraction would stop immediately. Do you remember when I told you that there have been certain cases of Veela whose mates sent them letters they never received?”

“Yeah, I remember but—”

“And when the Veela finally saw the letter, the final bond between the Veela and their mate was instantly formed, even though it was long after the Veela’s sixteenth birthday. I read more about those cases. It wasn’t even necessary for the Veela to be the first person to read the letter in order for unwanted Veela attraction to stop. If anyone at all read the letter before the Veela, that person was no longer subject to the Veela’s attraction. The Veela was not yet aware of the letter’s existence, but the letter still had the power to stop Veela attraction after anyone read it.”

“Fleur, there’s no way Draco sent me any letters during our first five years at Hogwarts. We were always at each other’s throats.”

“All right, Harry, but I continued doing research after we spoke to each other last. Even if Draco never sent you a letter, I found a more likely possibility that could solve your problems. I uncovered two fascinating cases that might help a great deal because they prove that the final bond between a Veela and their mate can form instantly without the Veela’s mate sending a letter. In the first case, from the nineteenth century, the Veela’s mate did nothing more than carve the Veela’s name into the bark of a tree. Certainly you know that sweethearts will often carve their names into a tree. The second case occurred quite recently in the South London area. The Veela’s mate spray-painted a short message of love on the wall of a vehicle underpass. I think Muggles call it graffiti. In both cases, as soon as the Veela saw the carved or spray-painted message, the final bond was formed, even though the Veela’s sixteenth birthday had long since passed, and the Veela’s unwanted powers of attraction on other people stopped at once.”

“That’s all? Really? Just a few words carved on a tree or painted on a wall?”

“That’s all, Harry. Even if Draco was too embarrassed to write you a letter, he might have secretly written your name somewhere. Then he wouldn’t have to admit doing it. It’s worth investigating. Otherwise, you can only expect a very gradual lessening of the Veela effects on other people. Even if your bond with Draco started forming right now, it would take months for your Veela powers of attraction to gradually lessen.”

“It never happens quickly?”

“After a Veela’s sixteenth birthday has passed? No, Harry, never. No one will be immune to your powers until quite a long time from now—that is, unless Draco is close by. Even assuming that Draco is your mate, the only hope for a quick end to all of these unfortunate Veela side-effects is if Draco placed the image of your name somewhere, and his intent was affectionate. Harry, promise me that you’ll ask Draco whether he might have carved your name into a tree or written it on a wall.”

“I’ll ask him.” Harry heaved a deep sigh. “It just seems like Draco and I never have any luck. Every time I think we’ve got things solved, another door slams in our face. It feels like everything is stacked against us.” Harry threw up his hands in defeat. “It’s been that way since the day we met.”

Fleur decided that the best thing she could suggest was action. “Finish your Potions project. We’ll talk again when your project is complete.”

Harry scraped his shoes against the floor and kept looking down, not even wanting to raise his head.

“Harry, don’t give up. Maybe the two of you didn’t get on so well during your first years at Hogwarts, but your love might be all the stronger because of the obstacles you’ve overcome. A great love will bide its time until it finally has a chance to bloom.”

As Harry walked out of the fireplace, he could see the good sense in Fleur’s advice. Harry sneaked out of Professor McGonagall’s first-floor office, intent on getting to the dungeons and starting work on the potion recipe, but the gods had other plans, and Harry had always known that the gods had a peculiar sense of humor. He’d no sooner appeared in the Viaduct Entrance than he was met by Blaise Zabini and several other Slytherin boys.

“Harry,” Blaise said, “we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Erm, I can’t chat now, but I’ll catch up with you later.”

Harry took evasive action and headed away from them through the Viaduct Courtyard and then through the Quad. The group of boys was fast gaining on Harry, and he was forced to turn around and confront them just in front of the entrance to the North Tower.

“Harry”—Blaise was all smiles—“we caught up with Finnigan, that good-for-nothing git. As soon as we used a charm to unfreeze him, he admitted that he was chasing after you again.”

Another Slytherin boy added his tuppence worth. “Don’t worry, Harry. We’ll keep him away from you.”

Harry looked around and only the North Tower offered a handy escape. “Sorry, you guys, but I’m late for an appointment with… er, someone… yeah, someone in the North Tower.”

Harry made a dash toward the Divination Stairwell and sped up the spiral staircase with Blaise and the rest following behind him from a fair distance.

“Harry,” Blaise shouted, “we just want to make sure you’re well looked after.”

If Harry had been in a lighter mood, he might have smiled at Blaise’s unintended candor. But, wand in hand, Harry concentrated on looking for a room where he could put a locking charm on the door. When he arrived on the seventh floor, at the top of the tower, the sight that met him was a wide-eyed Sybill Trelawney with her wand pointed in front of her.

“Mr. Potter! I should have known. I heard the commotion in the stairwell below, and I’m sure it’s more of that unfortunate Veela-inspired disorder that’s been following you of late. Quick! Up the stepladder and into the classroom.”

Even if Harry had the inclination to argue, there were no other options, so he climbed the stepladder leading to the Divination Classroom followed by Sybill Trelawney. Once inside the classroom, Trelawney led Harry to her “seidr chair,” the antique chair from medieval Sweden that a witch uses to go into a magical trance. Harry remembered that this was the chair she’d used when her unfortunate spell produced gigantic swamp vegetation that had chased Harry and Draco through most of the castle.

“Mr. Potter, I’m so sorry for my lack of skill the first time I used the seidr chair. I’m quite expert at its use now”—Trelawney beamed with pride—“and I’ve perfected the swamp spell I bungled the first time.” Her smile was warm with sympathy. “I promise you, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

A cold spike of fear shot up Harry’s spine. He had faced Voldemort. He had faced imminent death. But Harry decided, then and there, that nothing in all the world was more terrifying than Sybill Trelawney declaring that she knew exactly what she was doing.

At that moment, the circular trapdoor that led to the classroom flew open, and Blaise and the other boys burst into the Divination Classroom.

Harry still had his wand, but Trelawney pointed hers at the other boys at once and said, “You do not have permission to enter this classroom, gentlemen. Bear in mind that I am a faculty member.”

Not intimidated in the least, the other boys had their own wands trained on Trelawney.

“We have to bring Harry back with us,” Blaise said, “and see to it that all his needs are met.”

“Then I have no choice but to leave this tower,” Trelawney said. She gave Harry a sharp push downwards, catching him completely unawares, and Harry fell into the seidr chair, whereupon something resembling the seat belt of a Muggle automobile locked itself into place across his waist. She made a quick flick toward the window with her wand, and the window opened wide. Trelawney stepped onto the horizontal wooden stretcher near the bottom of the chair, which joined the two legs in back. She grasped the top rail of the chair with both hands, shouted some incomprehensible mix of Swedish and Latin, and the seidr chair flew out the window and into the skies above Hogwarts with its two passengers in tow.

“Trelawney’s abducted Harry!” Blaise could be heard shouting, as he and the others raced back down the Divination Stairwell.

Meanwhile Trelawney steered the flying seidr chair away from the castle, but unwisely, she steered in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

“We shall have to land, Mr. Potter,” Trelawney said as the chair began to descend. “The seidr chair needs brief periods of rest on the ground, similar to the way a Muggle automobile needs to refuel.”

Their landing was less than ideal, and Harry felt the seat belt unfasten while the chair scraped and bumped along the ground, and he tumbled onto the grass, although he was fortunate enough to keep hold of his wand. Trelawney’s wand, unfortunately for her, bounced out of her hands while the seidr chair was knocking along the ground during its landing, and her wand ended up on the ground several yards away from her. To make matters worse, a few Quidditch players emerged from behind the Quidditch locker rooms… then a few more… and finally Roger Davies, until almost the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team was running toward where Harry and Trelawney had landed. Cho Chang was the only player who had decided not to join the Ravenclaw Quidditch team that day for a practice session.

All six of the boys who were on the Ravenclaw team surrounded Harry, preventing Trelawney from assisting him, and they took possession of her wand before she could reach it. Trewlaney, now wandless, had to think of some other way to assist Harry, so she sat in the chair herself and commanded the chair to become airborne again. From her seat high in the air, Trelawney pointed to the Ravenclaw Quidditch players. “I insist that you release Mr. Potter and allow me to escort him back to the castle.”

The Ravenclaw players were in no humor to hand Harry over to Trelawney. Roger Davies had his arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulder in an unnecessarily affectionate manner. He looked up into the air at Trelawney and shouted, “Harry needs our assistance more than he needs yours, Professor Trelawney.”

“You leave me no other option then,” Trelawney shouted back. “Gentlemen, kick-start your brooms… and may the gods have mercy on you.” She raised her arms in the air. “O magical plant life of the Danube swampland, sacred ancestral homeland of the Veela race, come to Harry’s aid! Water lily, bulrush, swamp flower…” Trelawney made a terrible grimace as she unleashed her last command “… dreaded Duplicator Plant!”

Roger scowled. What in the wide world of sports was a Duplicator Plant?

Trelawney followed this last incantation with a string of shouts in Latin. Some examples of plant life with most peculiar shapes appeared in the sky, and they were flying from the direction of Hogwarts Lake. The first arrivals were giant water lily pads with long trailing stems. Two of these monstrosities attached themselves to Trelawney’s seidr chair, securing themselves by wrapping their long stems around the chair and Trelawney herself like rope. Off they flew back toward the castle with a captive Trelawney shouting useless spells in a failed attempt to free herself.

The next flying members of the plant kingdom to join Harry and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team were gigantic red and yellow fluorescent mushrooms. Two enormous mushrooms flew toward Harry and positioned themselves on either side of him. The cap of the first mushroom turned itself upside down and then reattached itself to its stem, with the underside of the mushroom cap now forming a hollow depression. The other mushroom knocked Harry into the hollow upside-down mushroom cap of the first, and Harry held onto the sides of the mushroom cap as the entire plant decided to sail high into the air and head back toward Hogwarts Lake, from whence it had come.

Roger and the other players mounted their brooms, determined to give chase, but not before they saw a flat circular plant flying into the building where the Quidditch equipment was stored.

“Davies!” shouted one of the players. “What’s that thing up to? It’s going into the equipment shed.”

“Forget about that,” Roger shouted back. “We’ve got to save Harry.”

The Ravenclaw boys were all in the sky now, racing after the giant mushroom that Harry was riding through the air on. Glancing over their shoulders, the Quidditch players could see that they were themselves being chased by newly arrived species of swamp flowers of the most bizarre forms and colors. These were followed by huge bulrushes. Whenever any of the Ravenclaw boys got close to Harry, a flower about the same size as the boy would fly above him, and then the flower twisted itself as though someone were wringing water out of a towel. This drenched the Quidditch player in brightly colored liquid.

“Strawberry juice!” The Ravenclaw player had no choice but to slow down as he flew, allowing the mushroom carrying Harry to elude the player. “Why the hell am I covered in strawberry juice?”

“This one just soaked me with pineapple juice!” another boy shouted.

The strange party of boys and plant life was now over Hogwarts Lake. At this point, the Ravenclaw Quidditch players saw the oddest guest of all arrive. The flat circular plant now joined them, the one they had seen near the shed that housed the Quidditch equipment, but a large bulge appeared in the middle of the circular form. Giant bulrushes flew close to the flat circular plant, which now split in half to become two separate circular leaves. And attached to the inside of one leaf was… a Quaffle and a Golden Snitch? Several players were trying to reach Harry, so they didn’t see the two great circular leaves snap together and separate again. This produced an exact duplicate of the original Quaffle and Golden Snitch, and the duplicates popped off the plant. The bulrushes, waiting for this opportunity, batted the duplicate Quaffle and Golden Snitch toward the unsuspecting Ravenclaw players, knocking them off course.

“Hey, Davies,” one boy yelled, “didn’t Trelawney say something about a Duplicator Plant?”

Additional duplicates of the original Quaffle and Golden Snitch soon cluttered the sky as the bulrushes batted them toward the hapless Ravenclaw players, effectively guarding Harry and preventing him from being approached by any of the boys. This aerial battle continued only briefly before Harry saw an object streaking toward him through the sky from the direction of Hogsmeade. The small dot in the sky grew to become a wizard flying on a broom. As the human figure flew closer, Harry could make out the athletic shoulders, and he could see the wizard’s head more clearly—short blond hair that looked like nothing so much as a shining helmet that reflected the sunlight. Draco! Harry raised his right arm as Draco flew close and was able to pull himself up out of his mushroom-cap seat and onto Draco’s broom, wrapping his arms tightly around Draco’s waist. The bulrushes, meanwhile, continually launched dozens of Quaffles and Golden Snitches at the Ravenclaw players, forming a shield of protection around Harry and Draco. As Draco sped away toward the castle, Harry gazed over his shoulder at the chaotic jumble of Ravenclaw players on brooms, variegated plant life, Quaffles and Golden Snitches that now littered the sky.

Draco took advantage of an open window located close to Harry’s sleeping quarters on the sixth floor. He steered the broom through the window and landed, without too much fuss, in the corridor leading toward Harry’s room.

The two spent a few moments standing in the corridor, their bodies fused together, chest against chest. Harry was absently stroking Draco’s hair.

“Harry, what happened to your Invisibility Cloak?”

“Hermione left me a note saying she borrowed it. She wanted to see whether Ron went to see Snape or Dumbledore, and she didn’t want anyone to notice her. I thought I could make it down to the dungeons without it because I had my wand.” He raised the wand he still held firmly in his grasp. “I was doing just fine on my own. I ran into Seamus, but I cast an Immobulus spell on him. Then I ran into Blaise and some other guys from Slytherin just outside the North Tower, and I wound up near the Divination Classroom. Trelawney was there, and I’m sure we’d have been able to talk Blaise and the others into going back to class because Trelawney and I both had our wands. But Trelawney had this brilliant idea.”

Draco shook his head. “God save the world from Trelawney’s brilliant ideas.”

“Actually, she’s quite good at controlling that flying chair now. And I think she really aced the spell for the plant life. Those plants were definitely on my side. I mean, they were protecting me. I’m sure that giant mushroom thing could have gotten me back to the castle.”

“Maybe Trelawney finally does have her spells down. Even so, I think you were better off flying back with me than riding through the sky on some huge mushroom.”

“I see your point,” Harry said, smiling. “So did you get the last ingredient in Hogsmeade?”

“I ordered it.”

“You had to order it?”

“I asked everywhere, and no one had ever heard of phyllo pastry dough. Finally, I found a witch who’d lived in Greece for many years, and she knew how to prepare it, but she said it would take a while, even using magic. She said she had to find a big enough table because the dough has to be stretched out two feet wide and three feet long. She told me to come back in an hour or two.”

“You have to stretch it?” Harry thought over the novel idea. “It doesn’t sound like anything that would normally be part of a Potions recipe. I can imagine what Snape would say.”

Draco laughed imagining Snape’s reaction. “I want to go back to Hogsmeade now. Maybe it’s taking less time to prepare this ingredient than I expected.” Draco had his broom in one hand, and the other hand was in back of Harry’s neck, pulling him close. “I won’t be long, so just stay up here. Don’t worry about trying to get to the dungeons without your Invisibility Cloak.”

“OK,” Harry said as Draco walked toward the open window. “Wait.” Harry’s voice had a new urgency that made Draco turn around at once. “There’s something I wanted to ask you because it might help the Veela complications… er, take less time to stop.” Harry came right up to Draco, their noses almost touching. “Did you ever carve my name into a tree, or maybe write it on a wall? You know, when you like someone… you might carve their name into the bark of a tree.”

The edge of Draco’s mouth curled up. “You mean like inside a heart? Something like that?”

“Yeah.”

“No, Harry, I can’t say I ever did. Why would that help with the Veela problems?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s not important. It was just a hunch I had.” He smiled and brushed his cheek against Draco’s. “Don’t worry about it.”

Draco gave Harry a soft, slow kiss. “I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

The last glimmer of hope that Fleur had given Harry had just vanished, and he couldn’t help but wonder why it had to be so difficult for him and Draco to find an easy way home into each other’s arms. Harry watched Draco as he flew away from the castle, and he kept staring into the sky as the form on the broom became a tiny speck. He turned from the window and shuffled slowly down the corridor. His room was just around the corner, and he was relieved to have a little time to himself—then he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Ron standing by the door of his room.

Several thoughts struck Harry at the same time. This was his best friend of many years, and he hadn’t seen Ron since that visit in the hospital wing, but he couldn’t help but hold his wand a little tighter. He remembered Ron trying to seduce him while the two of them were on a swinging chandelier near the ceiling. Harry cringed when he thought of that memorable predicament. It was only when Draco had arrived that Ron was back to his old self again. Draco’s presence was the only thing that calmed things down. But Draco was somewhere near Hogsmeade by now. There was no telling what kind of Veela madness would start this time around. But Harry had his wand… just in case.

“Harry, I have to talk with you. Can we talk in your room?”

Harry realized something was off, or rather, different. It was Ron’s manner. As hard as it was to believe, Ron was behaving as though Harry’s Veela magnetism had no effect at all on him, just like he’d always been before all the Veela craziness had started on Harry’s sixteenth birthday in July. But that just wasn’t possible. Fleur had told him it would be months before Harry would form a final bond with his mate. The effects of Veela attraction on other people would go away little by little—not all at once like this.

Harry walked right up to Ron until they were toe to toe, still holding his wand fast. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Ron acted like erotic thoughts were the last thing on his mind. This simply could not be. Was Fleur wrong about everything? But how could she be? She knew more about Veela than anyone at either Hogwarts or Beauxbatons. The world had turned upside down. Every piece of information that used to be documented fact was now wrong, and Harry was left to figure it all out from scratch.

“Harry, mate,” Ron said, smiling, “I think you can put your wand down.”

“You aren’t going to do anything like…” Harry shifted back and forth “… you know, when you visited me in the hospital wing?”

Ron’s smile was calm and sure. “That was just that Veela nonsense. But it’s over now.”

“How do you know it’s over?”

Ron paused, as though he hadn’t even considered the question. “I’m certain it’s over, Harry. It’s a gut feeling.”

Then Harry noticed that Ron had been holding a rolled-up magazine in his hand—something that looked like a magazine anyway. “All right, Ron,” Harry said, opening the door, “come on in.”

“So, Ron”—Harry felt awkward broaching the subject—“I guess you were as surprised as Draco and I about the trip to London.” Harry was tempted to say something humorous, but decided against it. “We all thought we’d be going back in time four weeks.”

Ron ignored Harry’s comment. “The Eastern Shore spirits sent you something, Harry… a package. But you hadn’t gotten back yet, so they sent it to me. It’s something you lost at the end of first year, something you were looking for when you were on the Hogwarts Express going back to London.”

Ron unrolled the object he’d been holding. With dawning wonder, Harry realized what it was. “My workbook from Herbology class.” A smile crept across Harry’s face. “You know, I always thought I’d lost that workbook at Hogwarts at the end of first year, sometime during the last week of term. In the dream I kept having… every time I had the dream, I told Hermione I couldn’t believe I lost it. But it wasn’t really a dream, it was a vision of something that really happened at the end of first year. Ron, I didn’t lose my Herbology workbook at Hogwarts.” Harry’s face was radiant with pleasure, knowing Draco had actually wanted something to remember him by. “I finally saw what happened at the end of my dream. Draco took it out of my suitcase in the train station before the Hogwarts train left for London. Later, when I told Draco about the vision I had, he told me he wanted…” Harry looked down at the ground. “He told me he wanted a keepsake. He wanted something that would remind him of me.” A smile still played on Harry’s lips while he lost himself in his thoughts for a moment.

Harry looked back up at Ron. “Then his father spotted Draco and pulled him away because Lucius saw me getting out of the train to look for my suitcase. He didn’t give my workbook back to Draco. Lucius just kept it himself. Draco told me Lucius probably just threw it away.” Harry shrugged. “It’s just a worthless school workbook after all.”

If Harry didn’t know better, he could have sworn Ron’s eyes were too shiny and watery, which wouldn’t be like Ron at all.

“Harry…” Ron strained to get the next words out, and it was a few moments before he found his voice. “I don’t think Draco wanted your workbook as a keepsake.”

Harry blinked at Ron’s surprising use of Draco’s given name.

“I think he meant to put your workbook back in your suitcase, but then Lucius caught Draco and pulled him away before he could.”

Harry started to laugh at the idea. “That sounds crazy. Why would Draco have taken it out of my suitcase if he only wanted to put it back again?”

As he gave the slender volume to Harry, Ron’s hand shook slightly. “There’s a bookmark where you should start reading. This workbook belongs to you, Harry. I think you’ve been waiting a long time to get it back.”

Then Harry saw the green and silver Slytherin bookmark stuck in the workbook. It was one of the bookmarks that all Hogwarts students received as a welcome gift when they began their first year; each student was allotted a small supply of bookmarks that bore the colors of whichever house they had been sorted into. By second year, the gift bookmarks had become something of a joke, and no one would be caught dead using their first-year “welcome-to-Hogwarts” bookmarks. But there it was, sticking up out of Harry’s Herbology workbook—a green and silver bookmark that Hogwarts School had given to first-year Slytherin students.

Harry lifted the end of the bookmark and saw the square block letters written on it: “For Harry.” He looked at Ron, unable to understand what a first-year Slytherin bookmark was doing in his Herbology workbook. Harry opened the cover and saw that the bookmark had been placed between the cover and the flyleaf. The inside front cover and both sides of the flyleaf were filled with writing. Harry instantly recognized Draco’s handwriting, although the rounded script looked more childish than the handwriting Draco produced now. After he read the first couple sentences, his head snapped up, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. Harry heard Draco’s words running through his mind, something Draco had told him three days before, in the great oak forest south of Hogwarts:

“I think you can figure it out. I loved you from the very beginning, when I saw you in that robe shop.”

“Ron…” Harry had to concentrate to make words come out, “… would you mind if I read this alone?”

Ron slipped quietly out of the room. Then Harry looked back down at the inside cover of the workbook and began to read what Draco had written to him so long ago.