Harry Potter and the Sisters Three

        Chapter 4: The Insiders

    Harry and Ron were late to Divination the next day. They climbed the ladder into the red-lit room,

huffing and puffing from their exertions. The rest of the class tittered as they smiled sheepishly and

stumbled to their table. Professor Trelawney was looking at them as though she wished that they'd never

come back. She cleared her throat with great exaggeration, and opened her thin red lips to speak.

    "As I was saying, before I was so RUDELY interrupted, I had given great consideration to retiring at

the end of last year." Harry and Ron looked at each other, as the rest of the class broke into whispers. Professor Trelawney had actually been sacked by Dolores Umbridge, the power-crazed Ministry operative that had been put in Dumbledore's place. She'd been substituted with Firenze, one of the centaurs from the Forbidden Forest. With all the stress the melodramatic woman had been forced to endure, Harry was surprised that she hadn't resigned. As much as he scoffed at the tremulous futures she told within the bounds of their class, Harry did not doubt that she did occasionally See. The prophecy was proof enough of that.

    "A real shame that she didn't, eh?" Ron said under his breath, nudging Harry in the ribs with his

elbow. "I'm going to miss having classes in the middle of the woods!" Harry put a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter, seeing that Professor Trelawney's eye was on them again. Ron, too, straightened up and tried to arrange his face into a look of polite concern. He was, as far as Harry could tell, failing utterly. Professor Trelawney wasn't fooled either. She scowled at both of them before continuing.

    "However, while gazing into my crystal a week or so after the term had ended, I saw that horrible

things would happen here at Hogwarts this year. I felt obligated to remain, both to make sure that the

school is notified well in advance of these happenings, and to protect those students that are very dear to

me." With this she turned a bright smile on Lavender and Parvati Patil, both of whom were seated very

close to her and smiling syrupy smiles of their own. They surveyed the rest of the class, perhaps expecting

to see reverence and awe on the faces of their peers, since they were the "chosen ones". No one seemed

to care all that much, Harry noticed.

    "But the Ministry and Professor Dumbledore have decided it would be beneficial to the N.E.W.T.-level class to receive instruction from both the centaur and myself," she continued, her face darkening. "So you shall alternate your class periods between us, every other class you will be here, and the remaining periods you will spend in classroom eleven.

    "Now, to business. I recall that crystal-gazing and interpretation of dreams are the highest form of

divination that we have yet studied. So, today I think it will be quite apt if we have a little period of

refreshment. We will all gaze into the crystal so we may foresee what will fall upon each of you this year.

Agreed?" The entire class heaved a little sigh of disappointment. It was a well-known fact that the only

futures yielded by Professor Trelawney's crystal-gazing were bleak.

    The class broke the state of near-catatonia they had been floating in, stood, and formed a line

approaching the red-draped table where Professor Trelawney sat placidly before her crystal ball. Harry and

Ron hung back.

    "If we're at the end of the line, at least there's a little chance that she'll run out of time before she

gets to us." Ron looked hopeful. Harry shrugged noncommittally. He was sure that she would find a way

to look into his future, and predict his death as she always did. Divination had certainly become

monotonous.

    One by one Professor Trelawney stared pointedly into the crystal for each of the Gryffindors. She

shook her head and tsk'd as Neville Longbottom stood by her, dancing nervously from foot to foot with a

look of apprehension upon his round, pale face.

    "Dear dear," she tutted. "It looks as though you will be suffering a broken leg this year, my poor

little thing. But don't worry, everything to follow isn't quite so bad as that. Now, who's next?" Harry's

mind ceased its wandering. Aedain had stepped up to the table. His skin prickled again as he looked at

her. Until now, he hadn't even noticed that she'd been in the class. He wondered uneasily if she HAD

been, until that moment.

    She appeared tranquil, her face a portrait of cool calm and respect as she stood ready before

Professor Trelawney. The buglike instructor smiled.

    "Well well! A new student! I don't believe I caught your name, dear." She leaned her head a little

closer.

    "Aedain."

    It seemed to Harry that a sort of sigh went up from everything and everyone in the room when she

spoke her name. Even the crimson-tinted lights seemed to flicker in their lamps. But perhaps he was

imagining things. He watched the interaction between the strange girl and the professor tentatively, only

half-hearing the whispers around him.

    "So she's the new Gryffindor. I heard someone talking about her, said she's in from New Zealand,

or something."

    "Aedain's an odd name for someone from New Zealand."

    "Well, that's what I heard, anyway."

    Professor Trelawney had bent her head to the ball, and her brow was furrowed as she tried to See

(although Harry privately believed it was furrowed from trying to imagine the next depressing thing she

could claim), and her hands clenched slightly on the edge of the table. Suddenly, she gasped. Everyone in

the room gasped with her.

    "What is it, Professor?" Lavender asked worriedly. Everyone in the room seemed fraught with

anxiety over whatever had startled Professor Trelawney. Everyone except Aedain, whose future it was. She

still stood calmly, the look on her face held a note of bemusement.

    "The most horrible things!" she exclaimed fearfully. "Fires and earthquakes, and war and famine!

My dear child, your future is full of the most terrible events I have ever seen! Take this!" The professor's

shaking hands drew a necklace from the many about her throat. It was a long silken cord hung with a silver

disc engraved with weird symbols. She thrust it into Aedain's hands. "It alone can protect you from the

horrors I have seen!"

    Aedain looked at the charm coolly, with the same bemused expression. She turned it this way and

that in the light, and with a shrug, tossed it onto the table.

    "No thank you," she said.

    The entire class gasped again. Professor Trelawney's eyes bugged out.

    "But, my dear, your future!" she sputtered. "You will need something to ward off the evils!"

Aedain shook her head.

    "I'd must rather ride out the storms, thanks. If they're my future, so be it." She smiled with

beatitude. Now the class sighed. Trelawney was agape. She opened and closed her mouth a few times

like a fish out of water, and then shook herself slightly. Normalcy somewhat regained, she turned to the

line of students.

    "Next."

    It took awhile for anyone to gather enough bravery to approach her.

    After the rest of the class had had their futures predicted ("Oh no, my dear, it looks as though

your goldfish will die next week."), Professor Trelawney at last came to Harry and Ron. She scowled at

them again as Ron strode up to her. She peered into her ball and sniffed.

    "Let me guess," Ron broke out cynically, "I'll get kicked off the House Quidditch team, I'll lose all my

homework for a month, and I'll develop a nasty cold." The class giggled while Professor Trelawney's face

began to turn an interesting shade of red. He looked at her appraisingly. "Shall we throw in a bit of food

poisoning, just for good measure?" She stiffened, drawing herself up tall in her chair.

    "Young man," she began icily, "Divination is not something to be scoffed at. You should feel

privileged to have a Seer as experienced as myself take their PRECIOUS time to warn you of the ill things to

come. If you cannot respect the PRICELESS service that I am rendering, I suggest you spend your time

elsewhere. NEXT!"

    Harry was trying hard not to laugh, but looking at Ron's pretentiously penitent face was making

things rather difficult. In the end, it came out as a sort of coughing snort. The rest of the class, all

standing on the other side of Professor Trelawney, all tittered at his red face. Sheepishly, he covered his

mouth and stepped forward. Professor Trelawney eyed him sternly.

    "Are we ready to begin, Mr. Potter?" she asked. Harry nodded, his eyes glued to the floor in fear

that another look at Ron would finish him and he would laugh out loud. Professor Trelawney cleared her

throat and began waving her hands about her crystal ball in a very melodramatic manner. The entire class

had closed in to try and catch a look at what might be swimming within the depths of the crystal, since

Harry's futures were always the most dreadful of all. Aedain had shifted her position until she was right

behind Professor Trelawney's chair, looking almost hungrily over her shoulder. Harry turned his eyes from

the garish ministrations of the professor to the look of concentration spreading over the Aedain's face. Her

eyebrows were furrowed as she looked into the crystal ball, but her mouth was twisted into the same

quizzical smile he had seen in the Great Hall. It flickered for a moment, then returned full force. Was she

actually Seeing something?

    "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" Professor Trelawney sprung backward, upsetting both her chair and the

rickety table on which her crystal ball sat. It went flying through the air, landing by the trapdoor with the

tinkling crash of broken glass. The class watched the spot where it had fallen in absolute silence. Then,

slowly, they turned their eyes back onto their teacher, who had backed into a velvet-draped corner and was

being comforted by Lavender and Parvati. Her eyes were as wide and round as dinner plates and looked

more buglike than ever behind her jeweled spectacles. And those eyes were resting on Harry. She raised

a trembling hand to point at him.

    "My dear boy!" she cried, her voice quaking. "I have seen the Grim, coming for you at last!! This

will be your year, your death is to be the horrible event I must try to prevent! But I must warn you, since

the Fates have you marked for death, it is most likely that I shall fail!" She dropped her head to her chin,

shaking it wearily back and forth. All eyes turned to Harry, who was squirming rather uncomfortably.

    "I didn't see a Grim."

    For the second time, the class gasped collectively. Aedain had moved to the shattered remnants

of Professor Trelawney's crystal ball and was carefully putting the larger pieces into the dustbin. She

raised her eyes to look at Harry thoughtfully.

    "I DID see Canis Major. It's odd, to see constellations in one's future. A sort of Oracle within an oracle. It usually means what's occupying a Querent's thoughts, I believe. Have you got dogs on the brain, Potter?" Harry couldn't believe it. Not only had she Seen something, but she now appeared to be teasing him about it. And the only thing dogs

had ever meant to him was that a large black one happened to be the shape of his Godfather's Animagus. Unwillingly, Harry felt a lump developing in his throat.

    "My DEAR GIRL!" Professor Trelawney's fear had changed into what appeared to be outrage. "No

sixth year student would be capable of divining something so elusive as a constellation out of a crystal ball,

especially considering that you were not in the primary position to read! What book did you happen to

read that out of?" She was standing, red-faced, over the girl with her hands on her hips. Aedain stared

back up at her blithely. And they were still standing thus when the time came to change classes. Professor

Trelawney turned around with a huff.

    "Read the chapter on Tarot for next time," she intoned, "we will begin our journey into the

understanding of the cards then." She shot a dark look at both Ron AND Aedain, who were both rolling

their eyes. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, glad to leave the stuffy red heat of the Divinations classroom for

the long walk full of clean air on the way to Herbology. He caught up with Ron in the corridor, when they

both bumped into Aedain.

    "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable in there," she began, "but I saw what I saw. I thought

maybe you have been thinking about dogs, but they in themselves can mean many different things." She

looked at Harry carefully, as though trying to assess his response to her words. "Specifically," she went on,

"there is a star in Canis Major called Sirius. You aren't familiar with it are you, Harry?" His jaw tightened.

He could feel from behind him Ron's comprehension as keen as his own. Aedain was looking at him

questioningly. He was not about to tell this stranger the tiniest thing about Sirius, not until he was sure of

her intentions.

    "No," he answered stonily. "Not at all."

    Aedain stopped dead in the hall as Harry and Ron pushed past her. She stared after the two of

them for awhile, and then made her way to class.

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    Harry only hoped that Herbology would hold true to its typical

uneventfulness. He was dreading the thought of having to avoid

Aedain's penetrating stare for the whole of the class. His only solace

was in the size of the greenhouse. At least he would be able to move

away from her if need be. He cast a gloomy look up at Ron, who was

striding along beside him and looking around with a furrowed brow.

    "I don't see Hermione," he explained, when he noticed Harry

looking at him. "She ought to have met us by now." He had just

turned around to look for her behind them when she arrived from the

front, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

    "Sorry," she said breathlessly. "I was looking at something in

the library." She gestured with her eyes and a flick of her head in the

direction of an unfamiliar girl walking with a group of Hufflepuffs

towards the greenhouses. Harry's mouth dropped open.

    "ANOTHER one?" he asked incredulously, regarding the

dark-haired girl with a critical eye. "Isn't that a bit much?"

Hermione's face lit up gleefully.

    "Even better," she replied, shaking her head. "She's the girl who

was wearing RAVENCLAW robes yesterday. So how is it today that

she's changed to a different house?" She thumped Ron on the back

triumphantly.

    "Oww, Hermione! You know, I honestly think that you are

taking a little too much pleasure in all this. You followed that girl to

the library for no reason?" Ron rubbed his shoulder ruefully and

stared after the yellow-clad crowd ahead of them.

    "I followed her for a reason!! I had to return a book anyway,

and she was in my N.E.W.T. Arithmancy class and I just wanted to check on her

activities, you know. Nothing serious, more a coincidence than

anything else." Hermione was feigning disinterest, but Harry knew

that light in her eyes meant that she wasn't going to let this rest. But

on the one hand, he thought, he was somewhat glad that she was

taking it upon herself to discover the root of these intruders. With the

way Aedain had been prying, and the recent return of the most

powerful dark wizard in the world, he supposed that they couldn't be

too careful.

    The little band trod on until they reached Greenhouse Number 3,

that they had worked in as second years. Professor Sprout was inside,

up to her elbows in black loamy soil. She beamed at them all.

    "All right, chaps. Everyone file in, that's it. Who've we got

today, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, eh? Good, I've got just the thing."

She drew her arms out of the Poisonous Stink Violet she had been

repotting and moved to the rear of the greenhouse. A melange of

students garbed in red and yellow followed after her, some craning

their necks to catch a glimpse of what they would soon be working on.

Harry chose instead to catch a better look at the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff

girl Hermione had followed. He was not at all to see that she was

talking rather animatedly to Aedain. Both girls were gesturing and

laughing quietly. When he saw them side by side, Harry noticed an

odd sort of resemblance between them. They were of the same

height, frame, even the shape of their noses was the same. It was as

if, he thought, that they were simply different colored models of the

same thing. Too late he noticed that they were both looking in his

direction. He quickly averted his eyes, his face burning. He felt an

elbow nudge his ribs.

    "Got caught, eh?" It was Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had a

conspiratorial smile on his broad happy face. "Not bad taste, though,

Potter. I think the dark-headed one's not half bad." He grinned again,

this time turning it on Aedain and the yet unnamed girl. They both

grinned back.

    "Looks like I might have a chance," Justin finished amicably,

parting from Harry with a wink. He headed toward his regular group

of Hufflepuff friends as Professor Sprout began to explain their

assignment.

    "Look here," she directed, hurling a clump of what appeared to

be long trailing vines onto the long table in front of them. "These are

Coiling Creepers," she explained, "they like to spring up into tiny curls

when they get agitated, see?" She gestured to the topmost Creepers,

which had drawn up into tiny tubes after she pinched them a little.

"We have to get them into these trays here," she continued. "So put

the climber rods in the trays, alternate your sides so they don't tip

over, now; and plant the Creeper like this." She took hold of the

tightly wound coil by its two ends, grunting as she tried to fit the frilly

rooted end over the climber rod. At last she succeeded. Then, holding

the topmost end stationary, she pulled the root end firmly down and

tucked it into the soil.

    "Now then, somebody give it a bit of water and I can let go."

Dean Thomas hefted the watering can and tipped a stream of water

into the soil surrounding the Creeper's roots. A little sigh went up

from the plant and it relaxed in Professor Sprout's hand. She released

it, and it stayed in place.

    "See? Nothing to it." She dusted off her hands. "However, I

would recommend that you work in groups of three today, two to

stretch the Creeper and one to water. It can be a little tricky if you're

not experienced. And mind the little mandrakes along the walls. I've

got them all ready for the second years, but they're in rather a

precarious situation since that cold snap we had last night forced me to

bring in the Burning Rubber Trees." And with that, she moved back to

the front of the greenhouse, leaving the class to fend for themselves.

The stood for a moment, then broke into chaos and chatter. Harry,

Ron, and Hermione surveyed one another.

    "We're all working together, I assume?" Ron asked,

nonchalantly snapping a smaller Creeper he had just picked up. It

coiled around his thumb very tightly, causing him to yelp in pain.

Hermione grinned smugly.

    "THAT'S why you shouldn't play about with things like this." She

carefully unwound the Creeper from Ron's thumb, and it snapped back

to in her palm. "See? Nothing to it," she said, imitating Professor

Sprout.

    "Right," Ron muttered darkly. He raised his head with a

resigned sigh. "In that case, why don't you and Harry handle the

dratted things. I think my thumbs will be safer with the watering can."

    Ron went off the fill the can as Harry and Hermione set to

stretching their first Creeper. There really wasn't much to it, Harry

realized, especially as he was holding the motionless end at the top of

the rod. It gave him time to look at everyone else at work. Justin

Finch-Fletchley, he noticed, had wasted no time in partnering up with

Aedain and her mysterious companion. He was beaming as he

stretched his Creepers, Aedain was holding the top and the other girl

was obviously doing the watering. Aedain caught Harry's eye and

smiled.

    "How are yours going?" she called out.

    "Haven't finished the first one yet," Harry replied, "we're still

waiting on Ron with the water." Aedain grinned.

    "Muirgen's handling ours. She's my sister, you know!" she said,

gesturing to the dark-haired girl who now possessed a name. Muirgen.

And the relationship certainly explained the similarities between them,

Harry thought. Even their eyes shared that disconcerting bottomless quality that Harry couldn't quite name, although Muirgen's eyes were as green as the creepers her sister was stretching. Aedain was whispering something to her sister. They

broke from one another with an oddly knowing look.

    "Hallo!" shouted Muirgen. "Nice to meet you!"

    Harry waved back with his unoccupied hand. She seemed nice

enough, but what unexpected surprises still lingered? And he still

didn't know where they had come from. He hoped Hermione's

detective work would uncover something a little more substantial. His

ponderances were brought to a halt by Ron's arrival with the watering

can, which he had dripped all over Seamus Finnegan on his way back.

    "Watch it there, Ron!" he called out, irritably shaking water off

his back from his stooping position. He was stretching the creepers as

Dean Thomas held the tops fast. And Neville Longbottom completed

their trio, hovering nervously with the watering can. He edged

towards the wall to allow Seamus more room when it happened. He

inadvertently jostled one of the pots lining the sills, and it plummeted

to the ground.

    "MANDRAKE!" Dean shouted, and everyone covered their ears

as tightly as they could. Harry watched the pot burst, and the dirt go

flying away from the ugly little baby. It opened its brown mouth wide

and began to wail, the tingle of it vibrated through Harry's fingers. He

noticed Professor Sprout bustling towards them, earmuffs already in

place. But one person was somehow unaware of the calamity taking

place. Muirgen was still calmly watering Creepers, ears open, and

completely unaffected by the sound of the mandrake's cry. Harry's

mind flashed back to second year, when his class had been working

with the plants.

    "The cry of the mandrake is fatal to anyone that hears it." He

could hear Hermione's smug answer echoing back from within his

memory. He also recalled Professor Sprout explaining that since the

mandrakes they had been repotting were so young, all that their cries

could do would be to knock you out for an hour or so. Harry turned

back to look at Muirgen, who was now glancing about at everyone

else. At the very least, he thought, she should be laid out on the floor.

    Aedain elbowed her sister rather roughly in the side, coupling it

with a look that said plainly that Muirgen had made a terrible mistake.

She quickly stuffed her fingers in her ears just as Professor Sprout

tucked the last spadeful of soil around the newly planted mandrake.

    "All done!" she called out loudly. Everyone removed their hands

from their ears and cautiously opened their squinched-shut eyes. Had

no one else seen Muirgen, standing unscathed by the cry of the

mandrake? Harry turned to Hermione, who gave him a very

meaningful look.

    Obviously, someone had.

    The rest of the class was uneventful. The trio got most of the

Creepers planted without any further interruptions from spilled

mandrakes, and they cleaned up their mess without much talk,

watching the rest of the class file out of the greenhouse, including

Aedain and Muirgen. When they had left, Hermione whirled around on

Harry and Ron.

    "Well, THAT settles it," she proclaimed with an air of finality.

    "Settles what?" Ron asked, oblivious. Hermione rolled her eyes.

    "Didn't you SEE her? She was just standing there, without her

ears stopped or anything, just listening to that mandrake and it didn't

do a thing to her! Harry saw it, didn't you, Harry?" Hermione was

talking a mile a minute as they walked back up the sloping lawn

toward the castle.

    "Yes," he answered shortly. Ron looked cluelessly at them both.

    "Saw who listening to the mandrake?"

    "MUIRGEN. That was-a-Ravenclaw-and-now-she's-a-Hufflepuff

girl that none of us have ever seen before in our lives! She was

listening to a mandrake and it wasn't hurting her a bit. And you can't

tell me that that is just something that people from New Zealand can

do!" Hermione was on a roll now. "That can only mean one thing, you

know. THEY AREN'T HUMAN. No live human being could listen to the

cry of a mandrake without SOMETHING happening to them. They

can't be real people!"

    "Then what are they, space aliens? Come on, Hermione," Ron

scoffed.

    "Well, there are other options," she huffed.

    "Maybe they're already dead," Harry offered, although he

seriously doubted that they had any legitimacy as ghosts.

    "Unh unh," Hermione negated, shaking her head slowly. "It

would be too noticeable. I was thinking more along the lines of

entities."

    "Huh?" Ron turned the blank look that Harry felt onto Hermione.

She rolled her eyes.

    "SPIRITS. Something with substance but no human weaknesses

or capabilities. They're solid, but they can't do anything else. They

can't die, or feel pain, or feel anything for that matter. They wouldn't

be susceptible to stuff like-"

    "Crying mandrakes?" Harry interrupted, holding open the door

into the corridor for the three of them. "But honestly, Hermione,

isn't that just guesswork?"

    "For now," she replied, her face hardened with determination.

"But we'll find them out soon enough."

    The three friends sat casually at the table in the Great Hall, eating their lunch in companionable silence. Harry ate automatically, his attention focused on Muirgen as she sat laughing at the Ravenclaw table. She looked real enough, a flesh and blood girl, as normal as any of the others sitting around her. But Harry sincerely doubted that any of those girls would have stood, untouched, as a mandrake's cry pierced their ears.

    Harry gasped, dropping his fork with a clatter. Hermione looked at him curiously, as did several of the people behind her. He raised a trembling hand to his forehead, his eyes closed and brown furrowed as he tried to seek out the source of the pain that had just sprung across the front of his head like a loosed coil of barbed wire. His eyes drifted upon as he heard the gentle tinkling laughter of a girl a few tables away.

    He turned to the sound of it. It was the strange Slytherin girl, her arms wrapped possessively around one of Malfoy's. He, however, seemed to be ignoring her affectatious attentions. His eyes, flat and lifeless as silver sickles, were focused on Harry, their emptiness horrifically juxtaposed by his malicious grin. When he realized Harry was looking at him, his smile spread wider, revealing teeth Harry thought (just for a moment) had been filed into sharp points. Draco's eyes fluttered closed, and his brow puckered in a look of concentration.

    Harry's breath was shoved out of him after the second diamond-bright flash of pain slammed into the back of his forehead. It faded away, leaving a cold Harry would have deemed worthy of the wake of a dementor. His stricken gaze rose again to Draco, who was looking at him as though waiting for, feeding off, his response. Harry's eyes widened, and he dropped the scathing connection like a poisonous snake. He looked back at his friends, all of whom were looking at him worriedly. Unable to bear their stares, he gathered his things and fled.

    Malfoy smiled on.

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