Diamond In The Rough

None of the four spoke further on the way back. And none of the people accompanying them to Hogwarts said how they’d known that the group would be returning. The truth in that was that they themselves knew not. To every witch and wizard of magical blood, the odd premonition is granted, albeit subconsciously sometimes.

It turned out that nothing else was said of the curse that day, nor of Voldemort or anything bar everyday chit-chat. Harry found himself drifting into daydream when anyone tried to say anything constructive to him and the hours sped away without him noticing or caring. Hannah was the same. Draco, on the other hand, sat alone in a corner, eyes narrowed in deep thought, whilst Lyca looked on, her own golden eyes filled with confusion as she watched the silent Slytherin.

Harry could barely remember his being ordered to bed, nor clambering under the covers of the bed that had been set for him in the staff room. All he remembered fully was awakening the next morning to see Lyca sitting beside the bed. She smiled down at him; the face previously creased with tension smoothed through the temporary removal of troubles a proper nights sleep had offered.

"Time to get up love. There’s a meeting to go to before we eat, and I have the distinct feeling that it may last quite a while."

Sighing, Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and heaved himself from the sanctuary of his duvet.

* * * * *

There weren’t many people in the meeting. It had been seemingly kept down to the bare minimum of members. All of the four who had travelled were there. So were Remus, Minerva and Hermione, but other than the seven of them, the room was empty. Harry knew they were in one of the larger teacher’s offices, though he didn’t know which. Unlike the last meeting he had been in, he was not in charge. In this case, that job had gone to Minerva. After Harry and Lyca, the last to arrive, had found their places, she started.

"I’ve called this meeting to discuss what’s gone on over the past few days. I think its best that you tell us your tale first. Then we’ll tell you ours. Afterwards, we’ll decide what our next move will be."

Harry nodded, and proceeded to tell the three who hadn’t been present on the journey about what had gone on. He told first about their travel down into the lake, and their meeting with Ledare, speaking about how the merman had led them to the Chamber. He then went on to tell of the group chamber, the encounters with the dragon and the sphinx, and then the individual chambers. He spoke only of his experience, deciding that the others might not appreciate him telling what could be a very personal experience. He told very little of his own, only about Devrai, and her warning about the spirit that they were to face. He came then to the confrontation with the nameless spirit in the climax of their quest, about his talk with them, and how Draco had slain him. For a moment then it went silent. However, the uncomfortable silence soon passed, and Harry spoke finally of the return home. Once he’d told of their return to the shore, he fell silent, waiting for the other story to be told.

Hermione had seemingly been the one chosen to re-tell the version of events from the outside, or real world as it were, for it was she who spoke next.

"Judging from what we’ve heard, I think its fair to say that you’ve been fairly busy. Well, I’m afraid to say, so have we. It would probably be easier to say what hasn’t happened. Ever since you’ve been gone, we haven’t had a day free of reports of him and killings. There have been many deaths Harry. You-Know-Who..."

"Voldemort" interjected Harry

"Yes, Voldemort, fine. He’s not only back, but he’s back stronger than both times before. That’s where everyone is. We’ve hardly anyone to spare Harry, we’re so busy trying to stop the Muggles from finding out and getting the Ministry not to fall to pieces under that fool Fudge....all the Death Eaters are back, that’s for definite. Severus was supposed to be with us, but he says there is a meeting at the old Riddle House tonight. Letting him getting his rest before it, seeing as there’s nothing new to report. A thing I am most thankful for..."

"What’s been happening Hermione?" asked Lyca, a frown upon her face.

"The day after you left, we heard of a Dark Revel in one of the old Death Eater hideouts. We investigated of course. No bodies, just signs of disturbance. Then we had the same the following night. Nothing there either, except the odd bloodstain. Then the next night. Then the next nigh-"

Hermione’s words caught in her throat, a muffled sob sounding instead. Remus started to move to her, but she waved him back with a hand, before gaining her composure and carrying on.

"We were alerted that there was a third Revel going on. Severus had been informed of this one, but too late for us to send any major force in. So we hoped that it would be in keeping with the previous warnings. Severus getting told didn’t really mean much, as he didn’t really hold much enthusiasm for them before he swapped to our side. So in the early hours, we sent someone round, just in case. I went myself. So did Ron, and Charlie..."

Hermione choked again. This time, she did not stop Remus going to her. After a few moments, Minerva started to speak in her stead.

"All was not finished when they arrived. The Revel, it seemed, was not any ordinary Revel, if such things exist."

"By Merlin, that was no Revel," said Hermione, tears pouring down her cheeks. "It was a massacre, pure and simple. There were bodies everywhere Harry. And at least twenty Death Eaters, all killing. And laughing. I’ll never forget that laugh. Like hyenas they were, singing a mocking farewell to their prey. And they’re no better. They’re below animals..."

Minerva spoke again, as Hermione started to sob further. "The three of them attracted attention immediately. Hermione and Ron have been in the profession long enough to know when to run. And they told Charlie to do the same. But, for whatever reason, he didn’t. And one thing you must never give a Death Eater is a moment to think. They’d performed the curse in seconds from what I can gather. One pureblood wizard down among hundreds of Muggles and Muggle-borns."

There was a long silence. No one could speak. There was nothing to be said. Harry could not admit to knowing Charlie well, but he had liked Ron’s brother for all the little time they’d spent together. He couldn’t envision anyone he knew just gone, just not there anymore. He didn’t hurt or mourn yet. The whole of his body felt numb. It was he who spoke next when even Hermione’s tears had faded to almost nothing.

"Say what else has happened?"

Hermione looked up slowly, as if deliberating about whether she should speak. Speak she did.

"Before the attacks, I set myself the task of researching more into the curse. After all, it is a spell we have never considered or learnt about before. And I wanted to know all there was to know. So, I got out Dumbledore’s Pensieve, several old scrolls, books and records and spent the day locked up in the office. Remus helped. And we found little, I admit. But it was enough."

Harry frowned. "What did you find?"

"There was an old text in the library. I don’t doubt that it was centuries since anyone had looked at it. I only found it by chance myself; the scroll fell on me when I was pulling down a book from the Restricted Section. It must have been wedged between that and the next book. I wouldn’t have taken it even then, had I not been in such a rush. But I did look at it."

"It first caught my interest when I realised it wasn’t in English, but in a runic mode created by Rowena Ravenclaw. Its name is Hogwine, and it’s only used in the most confidential of documents. Only Ravenclaw and Gryffindor themselves ever learnt to write in it. It’s very complicated. All based on number conversions. Slytherin as never given access to it, firstly by chance and later by choice. It’s far easier to read than write. Here it is...."

She pulled up a surprisingly small scroll, almost brown-black with age and being hidden in the dark. Harry saw the small broken seal; the severed mark of Rowena pressed upon the blood red wax that was still as clear as it had been fresh. Upon the parchment Harry saw many slowing silver lines, formed in an illegible yet perfectly formed script.

"There’s nothing there..." said Draco in a voice that hid none of his confusion.

"There is Draco, you just can’t see it. Its enchanted against your house," she rolled it up and placed it beneath the chair, "As you cant read it, I’ll tell you the translation. This is it, word for word."

‘Godric,

He knows. I don’t know how, but he knows. And he’s been to the scrolls. How do I know? Because he says he has altered them. Not the effect, he can’t change that. There’s only one other thing he can changethat would stop us performing it. What can we do now?

Rowena’

Harry looked at her. "How does that help? It doesn’t tell me how to perform it, nor what will happen."

"Happen Harry? It gives me a foreboding, the thought of what he could have altered scares me. I know my preference."

"Hermione? I’m not understanding."

"It’s perfectly simple Harry. I think that you should avoid doing that spell at all costs. I think you should forget its very existence."

"Do you mean to say we risked our necks down there, and you want us to forget about the thing we brought back," Draco sounded furious, "You’re mad Weasley. You have to be joking."

"Not in the slightest. What Rowena’s written suggests there are side effects to performing it. Its too dangerous."

"As is sitting here, not doing anything," Harry too felt his temper rising, "He’s right, we have to use this spell."

"Harry, you want to perform a curse that could very well be Dark magic. Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor themselves shrank away from performing it, for reasons we know not. Those could be grave reasons Harry."

"Dumbledore obviously thought it was safe!"

"Dumbledore did not know all we know Harry," Remus had now entered the debate, "He didn’t know that we’d ever need to use it. We know he avoided Dark magic at all costs. But who’s to say he knew that this spell could be Dark. None of us yet know. We can only find out by performing it, and the risk is too great."

"No risk is too great. I’ve faced Voldemort before Remus."

Now it was McGonagall’s turn to object, "Have you not been listening Harry? He’s stronger this time. And we haven’t got Dumbledore to pull an answer out of a hat this time-"

"Which is why we need to go ahead!" Harry was irate, trying desperately to persuade them, "It’s our only hope!"

"If our hope takes so low we have to resort to methods he himself would use Harry, then our hope is indeed low." Remus said, voice grave

"We don’t know its black magic. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were prepared to create it!"

"They were desperate. And far more powerful than we can ever imagine. Yet even THEY didn’t perform it. We haven’t got a chance Harry," Hermione spoke in a pained voice, "We’re not powerful enough. Only you even approach it. And you aren’t mentally strong to cope with such a spell. We’ve lost Dumbledore, we’ve lost Charlie. We can’t lose anyone else. And I’ll be damned if I see you lost too!"

Harry went silent, looking his friend in the eyes. The deep brown eyes stared squarely back; terror, pain and worry mingled in their midst. Yet there was courage and defiance shining there too. After a moment, he looked away. He still felt the way he had before. The spell had to be performed, whatever the consequences were.

A long silence followed before Minerva spoke.

"So, we have to make a decision. Should the curse be performed or not? Those in favour of trying to find another solution, raise your hand."

All but Harry and Draco rose their hands. Harry groaned.

"So, what are we going to do now? We’re wasting valuable time! Every moment we wait, we let more people die. Are you prepared for that to happen? Because I’m not!"

"Harry, we have no choice-"

Harry shook his head in frustration, and got up. Walking to the door, he strode out angrily, not turning to look back, and not stopping ‘til he reached the staffroom where he slumped on his bed.

The others looked to each other where they sat. Hermione and Remus looked uncomfortable, for though they had prevailed officially, they knew that Harry might take a long time to persuade. Draco looked livid, eyes dark, not meeting anyone’s gaze. Hannah looked confused, and as Lyca looked at her the younger girl wondered if the Hufflepuff had really understood what had been going on. It was Minerva who finally called an end to the meeting.

"There is no point us remaining here. There is nothing else we need to discuss. But we must meet tomorrow. We need to talk about we are headed."

"Meeting dismissed."

* * * * *

Harry lay on the bed alone, listening to the silence. A beautiful sound, silence. A sweet serenade to the confused soul. Something Harry definitely classed himself as at the moment. What was he to do? He wished he could feel, like Hermione did, that the spell was Dark Magic, something that couldn’t be used and was very dangerous. But he didn’t. Dumbledore had to have known more than he’d made out. Dumbledore always had. He wouldn’t have suggested a spell like that if he’d thought it Dark magic. There was no time to do anything else.

Slowly, the day passed to night. As the sun set, Harry fought with himself inside, struggling to reach a decision. The stars were long awake when a conclusion reached him, his long silence unbroken. The others had not been to him all day, on Herman’s counselling that Harry would need time to think it out for himself and would talk to them again when he felt ready.

He pulled himself off the bed with a sigh and looked at his watch. Midnight exactly. His decision was timed to perfection. Going over to the desk on the other side of the room he picked up his cloak from its top, and pulled it round him, feeling suddenly very very cold. He felt his wand in his pocket, half an inch shorter than before, and gripped it for comfort. He peered out of the window onto the lawn. No light came from any window but his own, as only one square of yellow green showed upon the grass. Harry turned to the door and was about to leave, when his hand went to his belt. Turning back round he went to the side of his bed and picked up the sword from where it lay on the floor. Pulling it out of its modest leather scabbard, he held it naked in his hand, watching how the firelight played off the blade sending little dapples of light bouncing off the walls. Sighing, it pushed it back into its holder, and attached it to his belt again. It may prove useful in the end.

Not looking back again, he left the room.

* * * * *

But he couldn’t just leave. He couldn’t. He thought he might actually make it past Lyca’s door, but he didn’t. Turning the handle quietly, he crept inside.

She looked so beautiful, just lying there asleep. Her strawberry blonde hair was swept back from her face, with the exception of one strand the fell across her cheek. Sitting next to her, Harry pushed it gently behind her ear. She stirred, but she did not awaken. Harry could feel his eyes burning raw within his skull. The thought of never seeing those eyes, never hearing that voice, never rejoicing at that laugh again.... the very idea haunted him. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to tear himself away from her bedside. He might not have, if it were not for what happened next.

"Sentimentality wont save us Potter." Came a hiss from the doorway

Harry’s head whipped round, eyes settling upon the figure in the doorway.

"You aren’t going to stop me Draco. I’m going, and that’s final."

Draco raised a silvery eyebrow, which Harry could only tell from the light radiating off the stone on Draco’s staff, "On the contrary Potter, I’m not stopping you."

"You’re not?"

"No. I’m coming with you."

Harry blinked. It took a few moments to register in his brain. Draco? Offering help?

"Why Malfoy?"

"Because, Potter, I agree with you. This is the only way. I have my reasons, and not all of them are any of your business. But this is personal. He refused me. No one refuses me like a second rate wizard. Don’t even try to stop me coming. Because I read that spell too, and I know the way to the Riddle’s house myself."

Harry shook his head, disbelieving he was hearing this. 10 years ago and he’d have refused point blank that Draco could ever change, not for the better. Maybe he should stop assuming things. Getting up, he gave one last look at Lyca, before walking out the room and heading down the corridor.

"Come if you’re coming Malfoy."

Draco was about to leave when he too heard a voice come from behind him.

"Look after him Draco."

The Slytherin looked over his shoulder to see Lyca sitting up in bed. He grinned. Always one who knew when to talk and when to stay silent.

"You know, Lupin, that I have little choice in that matter. An oath is an oath, even when made to something that I might have hallucinated."

She smiled at him. "Don’t let him get into trouble. You know what he’s like."

"Are you coming Draco?"

Draco sighed. "Go back to sleep Lyca. And for Merlin’s sakes, don’t tell them anything ‘til the last minute. Though, knowing our luck, it’ll all be over by the time the cock crows."

He swept out the room and down the corridor. Lyca listened until the echoed footsteps finally died away into the distance, and then lay back down on her bed. She could not close her eyes, the swirling fears spinning round her head endlessly. She was to get no peace that night.