Prisoners of Our Minds

Harry rested his head on the hard pillow. Every part of his body screamed in pain. He groaned as he brought a hand to his pounding head. The slightest sound was magnified to the most deafening cacophony of noise. Madame Pomfrey had told him that he was badly bruised, but luckily he did not break any bones. Harry sighed in relief. He looked around the infirmary curiously. It was a familiar sea of white and eerily empty. In the distance, Madame Pomfrey was brewing some sleeping draught for him. But Harry was not anxious to sleep. He was hoping to speak with his friends. Hurry up, his mind urged. He tapped one finger against his blanket in agitation. Ron, Hermione, Ginny? Where are you? There's something I have to tell you. Voldemort has sent me another message, that's why I fell off the broom.

Suddenly, the infirmary door swung open. Harry raised his head in anticipation. It was the Gryffindor quidditch team. Madame Pomfrey ushered them in but ordered them to be as quiet as possible. Harry's team mates nodded in agreement before walking over to Harry's bed.

He looked up at his friends and grinned happily. "Hello there, good game," he commended. The team and Hermione looked down at the wounded Gryffindor captain morosely.

"You scared us proper!" Seamus exclaimed. "What in the name of Morgana happened up there?"

Harry panicked. He hadn't anticipated an audience with the entire Gryffindor team. What do I tell them? He thought wildly. "Well," he began, "I felt a headache and let go of the broom. It was rather silly really." Harry winced at his appalling lie which hardly sounded convincing.

Dean gave him a strange look. "A headache? Why didn't you land first?" he asked.

Harry blushed. "I wasn't thinking," he mumbled weakly.

"Let off the captain," Ron interjected. "He's badly injured and besides he still caught the snitch."

The team smiled happily. "That was some game. Excellent work Ginny," Harry said as he tried to sit up. Hermione reached over and readjusted his pillows. He smiled up at her gratefully.

"If it weren't for Ginny we wouldn't have won," Lavender beamed.

Harry nodded. "I think you've created quidditch history with your manoeuvre," he said.

Ginny blushed like a tomato. "It was nothing," she stammered. "I just couldn't let Malfoy get the snitch."

Harry laughed. "I would have given anything to see Malfoy's face. I'm so sorry for letting you all down. If it weren't for me, Ginny wouldn't have had to jump back in. I'm so sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Euan piped up. "It could have happened to anyone."

Harry grinned. "Thanks Euan. Now if I remember correctly, there should be a party down in the common room. Why don't you go down and enjoy the celebrations? It is held in your honour after all, and it would be strange if no one from the team showed up."

"Why don't you go down first?" Ron turned to address the others. "Ginny and I will stay a little longer."

"So will I," Hermione joined in.

The others nodded and bid Harry a swift recovery. They shook his hand and headed for the door. Harry waved at their retreating backs. Once the infirmary door closed firmly and Harry was certain that the team had disappeared around the corner, he turned to his close friends.

"I didn't have a headache," he said hurriedly. "It was more than that. I saw something. I had another vision. It was Voldemort. I saw Madame Maxime and Malfoy's mother, Narcissa. They were in a cage or something. It was horrible."

"Calm down Harry," Hermione said soothingly. "Start from the beginning, slowly."

His friends huddled into a tight group and waited patiently for him to begin. Harry took a deep breath and began to describe what he had seen. "I saw Voldemort's chamber again, I'd seen it before when he was torturing Wormtail. There were two large cages in the room. One held Madame Maxime and the other held Narcissa Malfoy. I think Malfoy's mother is in a bad way. I saw her coughing up blood. She said something about an incurable poison between her coughing fits. Madame Maxime was trying desperately to comfort her but she seemed quite distraught. There wasn't much she could do for Narcissa, it was all so terrible." Harry shuddered but continued. "Then Lucius entered the room. He and Voldemort began discussing Slytherin's scroll openly in front of their prisoners. Lucius said that all was in order. Voldemort praised him and said that soon he would have an army that no mortal has ever seen." Harry look at his friends gravely. "That's when he turned to me. As you know my scar tends to burn when I am near Voldemort, but when he is inside my mind, there is no feeling like it. The pain was excruciatingly intense, so much so that I couldn't hold onto my broom anymore. That's why I let go of the broom and fell. I can still remember his last words before he lifted the spell, 'you will see your dead parents soon Potter, though you'll wish they remained dead.'"

Ron gasped. "Don't listen to that monster. He's just trying to frighten you."

Harry nodded. "I'm not scared of him, but I can't help wonder whether there's more to the message than the obvious threat."

"I don't understand," Ginny said, "why would Voldemort hold Narcissa Malfoy prisoner? I thought she was a staunch supporter of the Dark Lord."

"That's not important," Hermione said sharply. Harry looked at her in surprise. She blushed and tried to hide the tremor in her voice. "Voldemort's message is far more important than Narcissa," she continued. "If Lucius is certain of the scroll's whereabouts then that will lead him here, to Hogwarts. We must all be extra cautious, especially you Harry since you have the scroll."

Harry frowned. "I still don't see how that's possible," he said. "However if it were true, then I'd have a great excuse to burn all my school notes."

Ron eyed his wistfully. "Lucky for you, I wish I had that excuse."

Harry chuckled. Hermione glared at them both angrily. "You two are incorrigible," she huffed. "Try to be serious will you? Harry is in danger. Voldemort could come to Hogwarts at any moment, in which case none of us are safe. We must all concentrate on protecting Harry as well as ourselves. It's absolutely critical! I for one vote we go to Dumbledore and tell him all that we know."

Ron snorted. "Go to Dumbledore and tell him what? That Harry has the scroll? He won't believe us. We don't have any evidence and we don't have the scroll. Even if we called the spirits, there's no guarantee that Dumbledore can see them."

Hermione frowned, "Well then we should at least protect Harry from Legilimency," she declared. "We should go see Dumbledore about that."

Just as the girl uttered those words, Dumbledore and Snape walked into the infirmary. The old Headmaster walked over to Harry and sat on the edge of his bed, but made no eye contact with the injured boy.

"Good afternoon," Dumbledore said amiably. "You've put on a most spectacular game for us today, Harry. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Congratulations on catching the snitch. That was an extraordinary effort on your part Ginny. And as always, it was an outstanding performance from you Ron. Wouldn't you say it was a most exciting game Severus?"

The Potions Professor growled but did not reply. He eyed Harry angrily.

"Unfortunately I have not come to discuss quidditch, although I am much entertained by the sport," the Headmaster continued. "There is a most pressing matter that weighs heavily upon my mind. I feel it is imperative that I discuss it with you Harry. Perhaps we may discuss it in private?"

Harry shook his head. "My friends can stay. I do not wish to hide anything from them."

Dumbledore looked at Snape and nodded. "Very well, they may stay," he said. "I was watching you during the quidditch match, Harry and I was particularly worried when you touched your scar before falling off your broom. Tell me Harry, did you see Voldemort again this afternoon?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

Dumbledore nodded knowingly. "What did he say to you?"

"That I would join my parents soon, although I would wish they were dead," Harry answered. "Lucius Malfoy was there. He and Voldemort were discussing Slytherin's weapon. They're holding Madame Maxime and Narcissa Malfoy prisoners in a large chamber."

Dumbledore looked at Snape, a bright spark illuminated his eyes. "Indeed," he said softly. The Headmaster turned back to Harry. "Professor Snape and I have come to the agreement that you must resume your Occlumency classes. Professor Snape was rather busy at the beginning of the school year and so he was unable to attend to you individually. However, now that the students have settled into the routine of Hogwarts, Professor Snape feels prepared to recommence Occlumency lessons with you. Isn't that right Professor?"

"Yes," Snape growled. "Lessons begin next Monday. I'll be expecting you in my dungeon at eight o'clock. Don't be late."

Harry looked at his hook nosed Potions Professor and nodded reluctantly. Dumbledore beamed. "I am glad that we have come to an agreement. Now Harry, I hope you will rest well and enjoy a swift recovery. Good day to you all," he said as he rose from the side of Harry's bed and walked to the door. Snape followed quickly. Harry watched as the two Professors exited the room.

"Not Snape again," Harry mumbled dismally, sinking back into his bed.

"At least we have a Professor qualified enough to teach Occlumency," Hermione said sensibly. "I'm sure Dumbledore would teach you if he could."

Harry nodded. "Well then, what are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"How do we stop Voldemort?" he asked. "How do we find the scroll before he does?"

"Maybe you should go through all your Potions notes," Ron suggested. "Anything from Snape's class is bound to be evil."

Ginny giggled. "Don't trust anything that talks back to you," she said seriously.

Hermione nodded. "The best thing to do is to keep your eyes open. Meanwhile, we still have a few things to discuss regarding the Wand of Light," Hermione whispered secretively.

Harry nodded. "Tell us what we need to do Hermione."

The girl consulted her notes. "We still need to set a time for the expedition. Harry now has Occlumency lessons at eight. That could take an hour or two. The blue moon sets at two in the morning, so that does not leave us a lot of time. I think we should leave the castle at ten o'clock."

Harry nodded. "I will come and join you as quickly as I can."

"Good," she said. "Then that's settled. I'm going to the library to read up on water bound dark creatures. We need to be adequately protected," she said as she stood up.

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry. "Can you believe it? It's nearly the weekends and she's heading towards the library."

Harry chuckled. "You'd better go with her just to make sure that she's not meeting a certain boy."

Ron blanched. "Has she said something to you?" he asked anxiously.

Ginny grabbed her brother by the arm. "She isn't seeing anyone. Now come on, Hermione is waiting for us."

Harry watched as a bewildered Ron followed his sister out of the hospital wing. The raven-haired boy chuckled to himself as the party left the infirmary.

"I'm glad to see you're in such good spirits," Madame Pomfrey beamed. "Now you need some uninterrupted sleep."

She handed him a large frothing jar of sleeping draught. Harry drank the contents in one gulp and settled back into his pillow. Slowly, sleep crept over the exhausted boy. He would not wake again until late into the next day. When he did wake, a haunting dream would linger in the back of his mind. But no matter how hard Harry strained to remember, he could not recall its' contents. All he could recall was the weeping face of Godric Gryffindor leaning over the crumpled figure of Salazar Slytherin.

*

Hermione hurtled up the sandstone steps, her brown hair bounced wildly from side to side behind her running figure. She was late. And Draco hated to be kept waiting. If it had taken her all evening to convince Ron that she was not dating a Hufflepuff, she wouldn't have been late. A part of her felt guilty for hiding the truth from Ron. She wasn't meeting a Hufflepuff; she was meeting a Slytherin, which was much worse. She wanted to tell him about Draco, often she felt herself on the verge of confiding in Harry or Ron, but something had always kept her in check. How can you tell either of them? The sensible part of her mind said. Ron will definitely explode. He'd probable go down to the dungeons and strangle Draco with his bear hands. Hermione pondered this prospect and grinned mischievously. Draco was often an arrogant, insensitive, self-centred git who deserved a sound punishment. Maybe telling Ron isn't such a bad idea, if it entailed the gruesome death of a certain Slytherin... Hermione giggled as she entered the library. Madame Pince gave her a curious look. She flashed the librarian a charming smile and walked quietly to the back of the library. Draco was sitting against the far wall with a dusty volume of The Final Fight: Grindelwald's Retreat in his lap. He looked up as Hermione approached.

"You're late," Draco hissed. "I've been waiting for you Granger, and Malfoys don't wait for people! I have better things to do with my time then to waste it here waiting for you."

Hermione slumped into the nearest armchair. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "Calm down. I was researching. I think I've found Voldemort's lair."

Draco sat up in his chair. He eyed Hermione eagerly. "Where is it?" he asked.

Hermione rummaged around in her satchel and pulled out several heavy looking books. Draco leaned over the table and read the titles, The Rise and Fall of Grindelwald, An Encyclopaedic History of Albania and The Architectural Works of Salazar Slytherin.

"Well," Hermione began as she flipped to the relevant pages, "your mother's message was rather cryptic. We've been looking in the wrong places. We should have looked for Grindelwald and Albania together rather than separately. It came to me last night when you said that Grindelwald was defeated in the forests of Albania."

Draco gave Hermione a funny look. "I don't understand. That doesn't tell us where my mother is," he said.

Hermione turned the page and pointed to an illustration of an eerie looking fortress. She noticed Draco draw back, as if in fear. "This is the Fortress of Slytherin, later it was renamed the Fortress of Grindelwald. It's virtually undetectable to those who have never been there before. Acres of dense forest surround it on all sides. That's where they found Grindelwald. I'm not sure how they lured him out of the fortress but they did. Anyway, the forest itself is treacherous enough. Some of the most unique and deadly dark creatures reside within the Albanian forest. It's going to be a challenge getting there. And besides, I'm not sure we can even find the fortress."

She turned to Draco. He was oddly pale. Hermione studied him anxiously. She wondered if he were ill. He was staring at the picture without blinking, as if he were a statue peering into the depth of a pond She began to worry.

"Malfoy? Draco?" she asked nervously. "Are you alright?"

The Slytherin turned to her with a dazed expression. Slowly colour returned to his face. Draco blinked uncertainly. His long eyelashes lowered as he surveyed the picture once again.

"Did you see something?" she asked gently.

Draco nodded. "I can't explain it," he whispered. "I think I've been there before."

Hermione gasped and studied the boy. "Are you sure?" she asked uncertainly. "I know you want to find your mother, but..."

Draco turned on her. His eyes were cold. "Is that what you think Granger? That I've lost it? Well I haven't!" he bellowed. "I know I've been there before. I can't explain it alright? What would you know? You're just a stupid mudblood who thinks she knows it all."

Hermione looked at the boy in shock. She stood up and slammed the book onto the table. "I've about had it with you Draco Malfoy!" she shouted uncharacteristically. "I'm only trying to help you and what do I get out of it? Nothing! You treat me with nothing but contempt and I've just about had enough of it," she cried.

Hermione stood up and gathered her books angrily.

"Sit down Granger," Draco drawled impassively.

Hermione looked at the boy incredulously. It's so like him to just lash out at the nearest person and expect them to take it. He never apologises. Never! It's as if he's incapable of remorse. And he spurns compassion and affection by pushing everyone away. How can he live with being so alone?

"That's it?" she cried. "I'm just supposed to obey your orders?"

Draco smirked and rearranged his robes neatly. "What are you expecting? An apology? Don't push your luck Granger. I know you and so I have no fear. You'll come back because you are bound to me."

"I am not bound to you!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"Yes you are," Draco replied. "We're all bound to each other."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked.

She watched as a flicker of discomfort arrested Draco's aristocratic face. "Nothing," he said quickly. The discomfort vanished. Draco resumed his impassive façade.

Hermione sighed and sat down. "You really should be nicer to people or else you'll die a lonely old wizard full of bitterness and regret."

Draco smirked. "I'd rather die young and recklessly by smashing my broom into the Whomping Willow while drinking my seventh bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey."

Hermione managed a tight smile. "What's holding you back?" she asked sarcastically.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And leave you all frustrated and unexplored? I wouldn't dream of it."

Hermione squeaked in horror. "Malfoy! Watch what you say!"

Draco laughed as Hermione blushed furiously. She noticed how his laugh was dry, devoid of joy or warmth. Hermione shook her head sadly.

"Leave it to me," he said finally, taking the book from her. "I'll see what I can find out about this Fortress. There's a lot of research involved, but I think I can handle it."

Hermione nodded. "Good. I'll leave it to you then. I've done enough reading for today. It's your turn now."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You have plans tonight?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Yes," she said as she gathered her things. "Harry, Ron and I have...plans."

Draco smirked. "Harry and Ron. I never picked you as that sort of girl," he drawled.

Hermione squeaked and turned a brilliant shade of scarlet. "It's not what you think," she stuttered. Draco shot her a disbelieving look. "I don't know why I bother!" she sighed.

"Have fun!" Draco said sarcastically as she walked away from the smug Slytherin. Hermione shook her head in frustration as she left the library. Madame Pince shot her an angry look as she walked by. Clearly the librarian had heard Hermione's loud shouts from behind the bookcases. The Gryffindor muttered an apology before dashing out the door to escape Madame Pince's accusing glare. Once out of the library, Hermione broke off into a run for the Gryffindor common room. Her pocket watch read eight o'clock. There was much to do, much to prepare before they descended into the depth of the Lake.

*

Hermione paced the empty common room impatiently. She looked up at the clock once again. Where's Harry? She thought agitatedly.

"Come on Hermione, take a seat. You'll wear yourself out," Ginny said soothingly.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively at the Weasley girl. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she muttered.

Luna Lovegood peered up at her with her great silver eyes. "He's left the dungeon," she announced dreamily.

Hermione shot a disbelieving look at her. "How do you know?" she asked.

Luna shrugged airily. "I can't explain it. It's a feeling," she murmured.

Ron gave Hermione an incredulous look. Hermione rolled her eyes at Luna and walked over to the table. She picked up the loose pieces of parchment to examine them again. Have I got everything? She wondered. I hope I haven't forgotten anything. I've made the parchments waterproof. That'll allow us to read it under the Lake.

"You've read that a hundred time Hermione," Ron said behind her. He leaned over her shoulder and gently extracted the parchments from her hands. Hermione couldn't help but notice their close proximity. She looked up at Ron uncertainly. He blushed and edged away a little. "Maybe you should sit down for a while," he offered.

"I'm fine standing," she murmured. "Where's Harry?"

A look of disappointment flashed before Ron's eyes. Hermione gave her best friend a funny look. His deep blue eyes fixed on her for a moment before looking away. He was about to reply when Harry appeared from the portrait hole.

"Sorry Hermione, I-I ran...fast as I could...Occlumency went overtime...Snape was relentless...Are we...going?" he gasped.

Luna raised a pale eyebrow. "Hermione's been going out of her mind. You really should watch the second step outside the Dungeon. You always trip on it," she said quietly.

Hermione gaped at the girl. "How do you know that?"

Luna shrugged. "It's just a feeling."

Harry looked at the two girls uncertainly. "Um, are we good to go?" he asked again.

Ginny nodded. "How are we going to do this? We only have one cloak and there're five of us."

"I've thought about this," Hermione said. "Ron and I will go first with Harry to the lake. Then Harry will come back for you and Luna."

Ginny nodded. "Alright. Then you had better get going. And don't forget the gillyweed. I've put it in a small container. It's over there."

Harry grabbed the gillyweed on the table as Ron reached for the cloak the cloak. Hermione followed the two boys to the portrait hole. She turned back to the girls a final time. "We'll be waiting on the west bank," she said. "Come as quickly as you can."

With that, Harry, Ron and Hermione disappeared under the cloak and left the Gryffindor Tower. Slowly, they made their way down the long cold corridors of Hogwarts. The lake was tranquil under the pale blue moonlight. Hermione breathed in the beauty of the night, her body shivering with anticipation. Their shoes scuffled against the gravel roads noisily along the winding road. The lake was calm under the cloudless sky. Hermione came to a stop under the old willow tree, which stood majestically on the west bank. Harry quickly withdrew the cloak once they had arrived. With a small wave, he turned back to the castle for Ginny and Luna. Hermione watched as his tall figure vanished once again under the invisibility cloak.

"Hey Hermione," Ron whispered, interrupting her thoughts. She turned to her red haired friend. In the darkness, she could just make out his silhouette peering down at her. Hermione smiled up at him. He was much taller than last year. Now she barely reached his shoulders.

"Yes Ron?" she asked.

He shifted nervously. Hermione watched as he kicked a loose rock towards the lake. It jumped a few paces before ripping through the still, velvet surface. Tiny ripples beckoned and retreated from Hermione's feet like welcoming hands greeting a long lost friend. A sense of sadness washed over her. The water will calm overtime, but the rock will remain forever, she thought.

"You don't have to worry Hermione," Ron croaked. "I'll protect you."

Hermione turned to her friend in surprise. It was unlike Ron to show his caring, emotional side. She smiled in the darkness. "Thanks Ron," she said. "I'll always be there for you too."

The two Gryffindors stood on the shore of the lake in companionable silence. A bat flew low overhead. The darkness seemed to stir around them. A light breeze teased Hermione's long curls. The girl gazed up at the mesmerising stars and sighed. They seemed to be winking at her, hiding some long forgotten secret. A thrill ran through her body. The night was perfect.

Suddenly Harry appeared out of the darkness beside her. Ginny and Luna followed. "Are we all ready to go?" she asked them anxiously. The others nodded. Hermione handed the gillyweed to Harry and Ron. She looked at the grey mass uncertainly, her stomach turning in knots. You must be brave, her thoughts commanded. Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed the slippery mass with one gulp. It was not a pleasant feeling, but at least she had completed the first task. When all three Gryffindors had taken the gillyweed, Hermione conjured an extendable rope. She held onto one end and gave the other to Ginny.

"I'll pull the rope three times if we get into any trouble. When you feel it, call for help," Hermione said to Ginny seriously.

The red haired girl nodded. "Be careful," she whispered.

Hermione nodded and hugged both Ginny and Luna before wading into the water. Harry and Ron did the same, and followed. With a sharp intake of breath, Hermione dived under the icy surface of the lake. The chill shot up her spine. She gasped and found to her amazement that she could breathe as easily underwater as she did on land. Slowly, the three Gryffindors descended into the murky depth of the lake. The rock bed was lined with thick clumps of weeds. Hermione looked around anxiously for a golden path, but her vision was clouded by the impenetrable darkness.

"I can't see anything!" she called out to Harry and Ron who were behind her.

"Lumos," Harry incanted. The faint wand light was of little help. Hermione looked around in frustration.

"I can't see a golden path," she said dejectedly.

They looked around carefully for any hint of gold, but there was no sign of the fabled path. Hermione was about to loose heart when Ron exclaimed suddenly, pointing at their feet. "I see it!" he called out. Hermione turned to follow his gaze. The murky weeds glistened under the moonlight. As the clouds parted, the weeds turned on a brilliant golden glow. Hermione noticed that the weeds were merely reflecting the colour of the lakebed. The path of golden clay is illuminated by the blue moon, Hermione thought excitedly.

Harry gasped beside her. "Have you seen anything like it?" he asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head in wonder. The three Gryffindors followed the path and swam deeper into the lake. Jagged cliffs lined the sides of the path. Eerie water bound creatures swam in and out of the dark reefs. Hermione spotted a few grindylows hiding between the weeds, eyeing the three intruders with interest. Hermione pointed them out to Harry and Ron. They agreed to swim together in a tight group as Grindylows tended to pick off the straggler. The three Gryffindors swam on cautiously.

As they approached the heart of the lake, Hermione felt a strange sense of familiarity with the place. Voices began to echo in her head. She shook her brown curls in confusion. Harry shot her a concerned look, but she simply smiled back bravely and assured him that all was well. The three Gryffindors came to the end of the narrow path and enter into a large circular clearing. The golden weeds under their paddling feet changed to a light green hue. Hermione looked up and noticed that the full, blue moon was shining directly above their heads.

Hermione looked around eagerly. Several narrow straits branched out from the large clearing. Each path led to a different part of the lake. The brown haired Gryffindor frowned. She did not know which path to take.

"Which way Hermione?" Ron asked.

Hermione consulted the parchment. Unfortunately, Rowena Ravenclaw had neglected to include directions from this point forth. The frustrated girl shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "It doesn't say."

"We should pick one, but we should be careful. Who knows what lies beyond these straits?" Harry pointed out.

Hermione nodded. She surveyed each path in turn; some were well lit, others were dark and ominous. Hermione was leaning towards a light tunnel on the right when a school of plimpies swam by. The small webbed feet creatures had their rubbery legs tied in all kinds of elaborate knots. Ron rapidly pulled out his wand and aimed it at the approaching fish.

Hermione placed a hand on Ron's outstretched wand. "Ron, no!" she exclaimed. "They're harmless. They're plimpies. These creatures usually cohabit with Merpeople." Hermione quickly pulled out her parchment. "If I'm not mistaken, Rowena is trying to direct us to these Merpeople. Let's follow the plimpies," she said.

Hermione tucked away the piece of parchment and swam after the school of knotted, spherical fish. The plimpies waded slowly to the left side of the clearing and entered into a narrow, poorly lit tunnel. Hermione peered into the darkness and gulped. A sense of uneasiness seized her. She shook her head courageously. You're just being silly, she scolded. You've come so far. It would be silly to turn back now. Hermione held her breath as she swam into the abyss. Harry and Ron muttered "Lumos" behind her.

"At least it's not follow the spiders," Ron muttered. Harry snorted with laughter. Hermione beamed in the darkness at her exceptional friends who would travel to the ends of the earth with her. The tunnel narrowed ahead to an impossibly small slit. It became a hard struggle for Hermione to keep from crashing into the jagged edges on the sides. Slowly, the three Gryffindors made their way to the other end of the tunnel. A narrow opening enabled them to scramble out to the open water. Hermione sighed in relief as she and Harry managed to pull Ron through the narrow passage.

"Well that was a squeeze," Ron breathed as he emerged on the other side.

Harry nodded and was about to reply when a large arrow came hurtling from the murky depth of the weeds. Hermione gasped and swam aside quickly. The flint arrow scraped against her arm and tore off a large piece of skin. She winced as the salty lake water washed onto the fresh wound. Hermione watched as ghostly wisps of blood floated away towards the light blue sky. She put a hand to her head, suddenly she felt extremely dizzy. Another arrow came out from the abyss and narrowly missed Harry.

I'm so tired, Hermione thought as her wound throbbed agonisingly. I'll just close my eyes for a little while... The brown haired girl closed the curtains to her dark brown orbs and fell to the depth of the lake.

*

Murcus awaited the returning search party with solemn eyes. She tapped her kelp throne with one long grey finger. They should have returned by now, she thought irritably. What is taking them so long? The Merchieftainess rose from her throne and waded over to Mnemosyne, her youngest daughter, who was playing with a set of clam earrings.

"Mnemosyne," she said. "Are you sure the wise elders are stirring?"

The younger mermaid looked up at her mother with a grin. "Yes I am sure," she said as she fingered her fishbone necklace. "One of the elders spoke to me. He was the ugly, wrinkly one. What's his name? Mucky? Muddy?"

"Mudki," Murcus said sharply. "You must not speak of our elders with such disrespect."

Mnemosyne looked up at her mother sheepishly. "Sorry mother, I didn't mean any disrespect," she mumbled. "It was old Mudki who swam up to me and spoke. I've never seen him move for as long as I can remember. It was very strange to hear him speak. Anyway, I can still remember exactly what he said, 'They are coming for the Wand'." Mnemosyne shook her tale proudly. "See, I'm responsible, I can remember things!"

Murcus grinned at the little over-excitable mermaid. "Indeed," she said calmly. "Come here Mnemosyne."

The small light-green haired mermaid waded obediently to her mother's side. Murcus placed an arm around her daughter. "Do you know what this is?" she asked, holding up a strand of hair.

The small mermaid blinked and touched the wiry brown threads. "It's hair!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," Murcus replied. "It is human hair. They live beyond the waterways of the world. You have no doubt seen them by the lake from time to time?"

Mnemosyne nodded her head vigorously. "They usually throw rocks into the lake and watch them sink," she said. "It's a rather silly pastime don't you think mother?"

Murcus smiled at her daughter and brushed a strand of lime green hair away from her inquisitive face. "Humans are strange creatures. We can never hope to understand their ways. Most are not worthy of our notice. But the woman who gave me this strand of hair was a goddess."

"Really?" Mnemosyne breathed. "A goddess?"

Murcus nodded. Her fingers twirled around the brown curls reminiscently. "She was the most brilliant witch I had ever seen. Her wisdom knew no bounds. Rowena, that was her name, Rowena Ravenclaw. We met on the shores of Gibraltar, eons ago. I was a very young mermaid then, and she was already an accomplished witch. She travelled with our people, studied our ways and learned out traditions. It was a sad day when she left us."

Mnemosyne peered up at her mother. The Merchieftainess looked distinctly melancholy. Mnemosyne placed her small hand against her mother's cheek. Murcus looked down at her daughter and smiled. A bittersweet look haunted her grey face.

"Mother?" Mnemosyne asked gently. "What ever happened to Rowena?"

"She fell in love with a dark wizard named Salazar. For many years the two were extremely happy. They travelled the world in search of knowledge. It became an obsession for the two. Rowena was determined to learn all the secrets of the world. She and Salazar devoured information with such a wild passion that the air around them would crackle with energy. But their love was always a tenuous alliance. They were too different to reconcile. My dear Rowena was the waking dawn; the lark on the birch tree; the first shoot on a clear spring day; and the warm light that shines in your lover's eyes. Her Salazar was the enveloping darkness; the nightshade that creeps stealthily between the tombstones; and the vanishing hope of a dying man. His shadow eclipsed the radiance of the sun. It could not last. The Fates forbade it."

Mnemosyne frowned. "That is a sad tale mother. I do not like sad tales."

Murcus smiled wistfully. "But life is full of sad tales my dear child. We cannot fight the inevitable. Before Rowena crossed over to the land of shadows, she entrusted me with her most precious possession, the Wand of Light. And now, rumour tells me that people are coming for it."

Murcus rose from her throne and guided her daughter to the Cave of the Elders. For over a millennium, the Wand had rested within the depth of the dark cave, encircled by the eight wise Mermen of the lake. They had sworn a sacred oath to Rowena, pledging their everlasting loyalty to the power of the Wand. From that day forth, the elders became eternal guardians of the true light. Time was suspended for the wise Mermen while those around them withered to dust. Great empires rose and fell; light and darkness fought and died on levelled plains and steep mountainsides; the land became awash with blood again and again, yet the elders remained untouched, untainted by the ravages of fleeting time. Their expressions were like finely chiselled marble, unwavering and unchanging with the movement of the tide. The sweet melody of harmony emanated from their entranced smiles as they sat around the softly glowing Wand. And all had been peaceful, until now.

Murcus peered into the dark cave tentatively. She could see the flickering light of the Wand dancing playfully upon the cavernous walls. She ventured further into the darkness. Mnemosyne pressed tightly to her mother's side as they approached the nave of the cavern. The sound of unfamiliar chatter greeted Murcus' ears that made her large yellow eyes widened in surprise. No sound had echoed in these narrow halls for over a millennium, and yet the noise was unmistakable. The elders were speaking once again.

"Dear Murcus," came a soft lilting voice, "it has been too long." The speaker swam out of the shadows to greet the two mermaids. Murcus gasped. It was her father, Nereus. She could scarcely believe the sight. Wit a shaky hand she reached out to touch his smiling grey face. Her fingers traced over the hollow in his cheeks and danced over his pale blue mouth. His beard had become a translucent white but his warm welcoming yellow eyes remained vibrant and youthful. It was indeed her father.

"Father," Murcus whispered. She clutched onto the old man's outstretched hand like a little child. Mnemosyne watched the exchange with curious eyes. She had never seen her mother so emotional, so vulnerable before. "I thought I would never see you again," the Merchieftainess whispered. Tears glistened at the corner of her eyes.

"I am here," Nereus replied wrapping one firm arm around her daughter. "But she is coming for the Wand. Once the lady retrieves the Wand, our time in the mortal realm will expire, such is the nature of our sacrifice."

"Who is coming?" Murcus asked in confusion, pulling away from her father's embrace.

"Rowena's heir," he said. "She is coming to reclaim what is rightfully hers. There is no need for us to protect the Wand any longer. A great evil is approaching. Can you sense it Murcus? Can you see it in the orbit of the moon; feel in the crashing of the tide? Our very existence depends upon Rowena's heir, for she alone can wield the powers of the Wand."

Murcus looked at her father in fear. "A great evil? Of what evil are you speaking?"

Nereus shook his head wistfully. "That I cannot say. The infinite wisdom of the world cannot discern the path of the future, nor can it restrain the repetition of the past. We are mere underlings in a time of uncertainty. Let it be said that war is inevitable. Light and darkness will collide. And the passage of time will be forever marred with unimaginable sorrow and heartrending losses." Nereus reached out and touched Mnemosyne's upturned face. "This child of yours will witness it all. She will propitiate the memories of our friends in song and tales for it has been foreshadowed in her name."

Mnemosyne looked up at the wise old man shyly. He smiled and winked at the small mermaid which made her blush and hide behind her mother's tail. Somewhere in the distance, the sound of a conch rumbled through the water. Murcus turned her head to the sound. The search party had returned.

"Go to them," Nereus said serenely, "and bring them here directly. It is time that the Wand is reunited with its' master."

Murcus obediently swam towards the entrance of the cave with Mnemosyne by her side. She hurriedly approached the assembly plateau where the council was beginning to gather. Several Merpeople were already milling around the throne, waiting for the Merchieftainess to return, having heard the sounding of the conch. Murcus waded over to the throne and called the assembly to order.

"Has the search party returned?" she asked.

"Not yet my lady," General Myrmidon answered, "but they will be arriving soon. They have just left the Aquiline Gates."

The throng of Merpeople murmured amongst themselves:

"Rumour has it that they've found three wizards swimming not far from the tunnel."

"Indeed, how did they ever get that far? The multiple exits at the clearing should have confused them."

"I don't think we're dealing with ordinary wizards. They must be extremely powerful and sentient."

"It doesn't matter what kind of wizards they are. Trespassing is a capital offence. I say we punish them accordingly."

The others agreed heartily. Murcus ignored the babble and looked out to the blue stretch of water beyond the plateau, waiting impatiently for the party to return. Slowly, a speck of grey emerged over the horizon.

"There they are," a guard called out. The noise died down as the council turned in the direction of the approaching party. A moment later, ten Mermen swam into plain view. They came to a stop before Murcus's feet with heavy spears in hand and a large floating cage. They brought the cage before the Merchieftainess for her inspection. Murcus peered between the bars and spotted two young wizards and one young witch, all of who looked familiar to her.

"Release them from the cage," Murcus ordered.

The Mermen soldiers complied and release the prisoners. Murcus watched as the two shaken wizards crawled out of the cage gingerly, but the girl was lying unconscious at the bottom of the cage. Her red haired friend returned a moment later to extract her from her prison before turning to Murcus with forlorn eyes. The council formed a tight circle around the three prisoners. Murcus approached the humans and studied them acutely.

"I recognise you," she said finally. "You were here for the Triwizarding Tournament."

The raven-haired boy nodded. "I am Harry, Harry Potter," he announced. A soft murmur echoed around the plateau. Murcus held up a hand to silence them. "This is Ron and Hermione. Our friend is badly wounded. Some of your Mermen shot her with a poison tipped arrow."

Murcus studied the pale girl. An ugly purple blotch appeared on her cheeks and she was shaking uncontrollably. The poison was spreading fast.

"The antidote," Murcus called. A medi-Merman approached and handed the Merchieftaness an alabaster jar before scuttling away. Murcus opened the stone lid and administered the antidote to the weak girl's lips. The liquid travelled through her veins and dispelled the poison quickly. A moment later, the girl opened her eyes, blinking a couple of times in confusion. Murcus peered down at the brown haired witch and smiled. She looks just like Rowena. Why couldn't I see it before? She wondered. She is the same girl that I first set eyes upon two years ago, yet something inside her has changed. Her eyes still speak of inquisitiveness and compassion. But now her countenance reflects such powers that I dare not fathom nor invoke; she is growing in Rowena's likeness day by day. Murcus touched the girl's forehead lightly in amazement; it was like seeing her best friend again.

"I am Murcus, the Merchieftaness of the lake. Do you remember me?" she asked softly.

The brown haired girl stood up shakily and studied the mermaid before her. "I remember you Murcus, I am Hermione Granger. I have come for my Wand."

A shuddering gasp travelled across the council. Murcus raised a hand to hush the noise once again. "Indeed child," she said seriously, "and what makes you so sure that the Wand belongs to you?"

The girl called Hermione looked up at the tall Merchieftainess and spoke clearly, "Because the heir of Slytherin has named me the heir of Ravenclaw. I have Rowena's riddle; it has led me here. My friends and I have come to reclaim the Wand which is rightfully mine."

Murcus was taken aback by the girl's courage. She hesitated and studied the girl once more before turning to address the assembly. "Good councillors," she said authoritatively. "This young witch has proclaimed herself the heir of Ravenclaw and the rightful master of the Wand of Light. I propose that we bring her before the elders to test the merit of her claim. What say you?"

A thunderous "Aye" erupted from the crowd. Murcus nodded as the throng of Merpeople made their way to the cave. She and the prisoners led the way, a train of guards followed closely behind.

"Please Murcus," Harry spoke up, "may we accompany her?"

Murcus looked down at the boy with the lightening bolt scar. "You may," she replied. "Any friends of Rowena's are welcome in my village."

Slowly, the crowd descended the narrow tunnel of the cave, towards the beckoning light of the Wand glowing faintly in the distance. Murcus watched as Hermione's eyes lit up with anticipation, her breath became more rapid and shallow as they edged closer to the nave of the cavern.

"Not long now," Murcus whispered as she waded into the small circular grotto and beckoned the others to follow. The wise men were standing behind the Wand in a line rather than sitting around it in a complete circle, their heads bowed solemnly awaiting the approaching party. Hermione followed Murcus into the grotto as the others filed in closely behind.

"I have brought you the heir father," Murcus said, but Nereus paid her no mind, his eyes were already transfixed upon the slender brown haired girl. Unexpectedly, the old Merman dropped to one knee before the young witch. The other elders quickly followed. A hushed gasp circled the room. Hermione watched the scene with a startled expression.

"Hermione Granger, heir of Rowena Ravenclaw, I kneel before you as a loyal suppliant," Nereus said. "We pay homage to your greatness."

"Please do not bow before me!" the girl exclaimed in horror. "You do me too much credit. I am not great by any means. I have simply come for the Wand."

"Of course," Nereus nodded as he picked up the Wand of Light from the altar. "Rowena entrusted it to us over a millennium ago. It is now yours. The Willow stem shall give you power over those who dwell beyond the grave; and the golden hair from Helios' fair tress shall guide you from danger. May you use it well, Hermione Granger."

Nereus stepped forth and handed the Wand to the brown haired girl. Hermione grasped the dark, polished Wand tightly in her small hands. Almost immediately, the Wand began to hum a soft melodious tune. A large jet of liquid silver light shot out from the tip of the Wand and illuminated the dim cave. Murcus gasped at the magnificence of the light; it was so pure, so brilliant, so powerful. A nostalgic look settled on Hermione's face, she turned to the wise men.

"I thank you, wise elders of the lake," she said in a far away voice. The crowd gaped at her in surprise, but the elders remained unperturbed. Old Nereus beamed at the girl before him and bowed.

"Our duty is complete," Nereus answered. "We are ready to join you in the land of shadows."

Hermione nodded. "May your passing be swift and the judgement be favourable," she said with a resonant voice. Old Nereus turned to his daughter.

"Goodbye my dear Murcus," he murmured. "May we meet again some day."

The Merchieftainess blinked back the tears as she bravely waved her father goodbye. A silver light appeared under the tails of the elders and a moment later, the eight wise men faded to the realm of the dead, each with a contented smile on his face. Their lonely existence had come to an end and so their spirits were free. The soulless husks of the elders quickly crumpled to ashes; floating, weaving gracefully towards the blue moon, like thousands of spring butterflies gathering before a night rose. Hermione turned to Murcus and placed a hand on her arm.

"The land of eternity will be kind to your father," she said.

Murcus nodded and smiled gratefully at the heir. Slowly the crowd dispersed from the cave and returned to their homes all the while chattering excitedly about the miraculous event they had witnessed. Murcus summoned her guards and departed from the village. She accompanied Harry, Ron and Hermione to the open waters near the Gate of Aquiline.

"My guards will escort you to the west bank," she said affectionately. "You will be safe from the Grindylows and other such dark creatures."

Hermione smiled gratefully and took her grey hand. "Thank you Murcus, for everything."

The Merchieftainess smiled back. "May we meet again some day dear Hermione," she said.

The young witch and wizards smiled and waved goodbye, their guards followed closely behind. Murcus watched as the party disappeared through the dark tunnel that would lead them to the clearing. Hesitantly, the Merchieftainess turned back to her village with a great sense of unease. A wistful smile crept onto her tired face. The foreseeable future does not bode well for any of us, she thought. May you be successful in your endeavours dear Hermione, for the burden you bear is great, our lives rest in your hands.

*

A blonde Slytherin was concealed in the shadows of an ancient Elder tree. He watched as three silhouetted figures emerged from the lake. The two girls who were standing idly on the bank quickly ran to the three figures and hugged them affectionately. Draco Malfoy grinned, a calculating look flashed across his eyes. So she's found the Wand of Light.

*

Albus Dumbledore was snoring quietly in his sleeping quarters when a sudden jolt travelled down his spine. He hastily sat up in bed and fumbled for his glasses. The air around him seemed to be humming with an intense magic that was entirely alien to him. Dumbledore peered out of his small window and noticed the setting of the full blue moon. Great mischief stirs on this night, he mused. Now how does the saying go? Dumbledore furrowed his brows and tried to remember the words, but the words would not come to his mind. With a slightly frustrated sigh, the old Headmaster left his bed and headed for his library. He browsed the shelves slowly until his gaze came to rest on a small, tattered leather-bound book. It had been his pocket journal from his wandering days. Between its' pages laid the many secrets and wisdoms he had gathered from his travels. Dumbledore flipped through the book quickly until the desired page leapt out at him. He perused the lines with interest. After reading it twice, Dumbledore set down the book and returned to bed, his eyes twinkling with excitement in the surrounding darkness. It was as he had expected.

Great mischief stirs on this night,

When the blue moon floods the land,

Ravenclaw's hidden Wand of Light,

Has passed into the heir's hand.

*

Harry and Ron stood outside the Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for Hermione. Inside the inn, the guests had already gathered around a large table. Harry scanned the busy alley stringently for any sign of his friend.

"Do you see her?" he asked Ron.

The red haired Gryffindor shook his head. "No," he replied. "How long can it take a person to buy a notebook?"

Harry chuckled. "You know Hermione, she gets lost in bookstores, falls in between the pages if you ask me."

"Yeah," Ron grinned.

Harry and Ron turned back the Diagon Alley and watched the witches and wizards hurry by. A moment later, a flushed Susan Bones emerged from the throng of pedestrians, pushing her way towards the two boys. She was holding a nicely decorated box in one hand while the other was fiddling nervously with her braids. When she saw Ron, she blushed a pretty pink, like a young rose petal. Harry greeted the approaching girl warmly.

"Hello Harry, hello Ron," she said, looking at her shoes with interest.

"Hello there Susan," Ron replied. "Why don't you go on in? The guests are already seated."

Susan looked at the boy uncertainly. "I don't mind standing here with you for a while," she said quietly.

Ron shook his head and pointed at the box she was holding. "But you have a present for Hermione. It'll ruin the surprise. I think it would be best if you went in first," he said.

Susan looked crestfallen for a moment but quickly recovered her poise and smiled kindly at the two boys. She hurried into the Three Broomsticks as Ron had ordered. Harry watched her leave with chuckle and a shake of his head. Sometimes he wondered if Ron walked around with both his eyes shut. Perhaps he's so taken with our friend Hermione that he's oblivious to other girls, Harry thought with a small grin. He turned to study Ron, who was eagerly watching the road for any sign of the brown haired girl. Suddenly Ron clutched his arm and pointed at the approaching figure of Hermione with one too many shopping bags.

"There she is!" he cried, rushing over to her. Ron graciously took Hermione's overladen book bag as Harry reached over to take her satchel.

"Thanks so much," Hermione gasped. "There were some fantastic resource books on the history of the Founders and I just had to buy them. I'm so sorry I'm late. I hope I haven't been keeping you long."

"Think nothing of it," Harry grinned. "Why don't we go and get a butterbeer?"

Hermione grinned. "That sounds delightful," she said without suspecting the surprise. The three Gryffindors walked into the Three Broomsticks which was oddly dark for that time of the day. Harry heard a giggle and thump before the lights came back on. Out of the shadows, Hermione's friends leapt out and yelled "Surprise!" Hermione gasped and stumbled into Harry who quickly caught her and helped her to her feet. The brown haired girl giggled with delight as Ron and Harry guided her to a chair. The Weasley twins let off two of their Wildfire Whiz Bangs in the inn, making poor Madame Rosmerta shriek in fright. But the gracious inn hostess quickly recovered from the ringing noise and stopped to marvel at the brilliant display of patterns before her eyes. She then bustled to their table to take orders.

Harry looked around and beamed. He and Ron had done a wonderful job in gathering a large group of Hermione's good friends for her party. Each of the guests took turns in wishing Hermione a happy birthday and showering her with presents. The birthday girl beamed happily as she carefully unwrapped each one of her gifts. She received a scarlet phoenix feathered quill from Ginny, a book on Historical sightings of Mythical Creatures from Luna, a pot of an amphibious cactus from Neville, an enchanted hair pin that makes hair stay in place all day from Lavender, an organisational diary from Dean, a pretty maroon scarf from Seamus, an ever-burning lavender candle from Susan, a new leather satchel from Fred and George, and a hand made photo album from Harry. Hermione thanked each of her friends cordially before turning to Harry's photo album. She flipped through the pages and giggled in delight as she perused numerous pictures. There were photographs of her, Harry and Ron aboard the Hogwarts Express in their second year; of the three of them lounging under the shades of the willow tree beside the lake; of the three of them at the Burrow through the summer; of Hermione and Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball; of Hermione reading in the library with Ron looking decidedly bored beside her; of the three of them sitting in companionable silence in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione closed the album with a satisfied sigh, her eyes growing misty.

"I hope you like it," Harry said anxiously. "Collin helped me a lot with this album. He would have come today but he has a date with someone, I forgot to ask who."

Hermione smiled up at Harry sincerely. "I love it," she whispered. "It's beautiful."

Harry felt himself blush, which made his glasses fog up. The raven-haired boy quickly looked away before Hermione spotted his reaction. Ron cleared his throat from across the table.

"You haven't opened my present yet," he mumbled.

"Oh I'm so sorry Ron!" Hermione gasped. She quickly reached for the small box left at the centre of the table. Harry watched as Hermione carefully unwrapped the present and opened the lid. She gasped with a mixture of delight and confusion. "Ron," she said softly. "It's beautiful, you shouldn't have..."

Harry peered into the box and his eyes widened in shock. Inside the plush padding of the ornate jewellery box was a charmed necklace. Hermione lifted it out of the box uncertainly.

"Do you like it?" Ron asked. He was sitting on the far edge of his seat, Harry worried that the boy might fall off his stool at any moment.

"I don't know what to say," Hermione whispered. "It must have cost you a fortune!"

"It's worth it," Ron muttered, turning a light shade of pink. "If you ever run into trouble, the charm will call for me and I will come for you as quickly as I can."

A soft murmur flowed through the group as they turned from Ron to Hermione, eager not to miss a moment of the affectionate exchange. Harry eyed his best friend with interest. So I haven't been wrong, he thought. He really does fancy Hermione.

Hermione fumbled with the clasp. "Let me help you with that," Ginny said, taking the necklace from the speechless girl. She expertly released the catch and put the necklace around Hermione's slender neck. The brown haired girl touched the necklace gently.

"Thank you Ron," she murmured. Ron slipped off the stool, but luckily Fred caught him before he hit the floor. At that moment, Madam Rosmerta reappeared with their drinks. Soon the guests settled into a relaxed conversation with their neighbour. The chatter grew louder as the afternoon wore on; there was much laughter and merry making which seemed to delight Hermione.

"How's the joke shop going?" Harry asked the twins after his second butterbeer.

"Very well," George answered. "We've made quite a bit of money through mail orders, but we're still looking for a shop. Hopefully there'll be a vacancy in Hogsmeade soon."

Harry nodded. "Have you come up with any new inventions?" he asked conversationally.

"Have we ever!" Fred exclaimed, turning to Harry with interest. For the next hour, Fred and George recounted every one of their jokes and tricks; from the new and improved extendible ears to the Coughing Coconut Creams; from Dragon Deflagration Dreams to the exclusive Marsh-Making Starts Kits. After a while, Harry felt his eyes beginning to droop, the twins' exuberance became somewhat unbearable. Just as Harry was about to fall face first into his butterbeer, Hermione pushed past him, jostling him out of his stupor.

"Sorry Harry!" she gasped. "I have to go. I totally lost track of the time." With that, the brown haired girl bolted out of the inn. Harry sat up and watched her leave. The others seemed to have been so busy talking that they missed Hermione's swift departure. Ron was eagerly discussing quidditch with Seamus and Dean while Lavender was explaining make-up techniques to a confused Susan Bones. Ginny and Luna were playing a loud game of exploding snap in the corner; and the twins were so busy talking at Harry that even they failed to notice Hermione leave. Harry frowned. What could be so urgent that she would leave her own party on her birthday? He thought bewilderedly. After a moment's hesitation, he decided to follow the girl. Harry excused himself from the twins as politely as he could and walked out of the Three Broomsticks.

Out on the street, Harry looked around for the figure of his brown haired friend, but she was nowhere in sight. He started to walk up and down the street in the hopes of bumping into her. Harry walked by Honeydukes, Scrivenschaft's Quill Shop and Gladrags Wizardwear at least a dozen times before deciding that it was hopeless. The illusive girl was nowhere to be seen. Just as he was heading back towards the Three Broomsticks, Harry spotted a wisp of Draco's blonde hair at the corner of The Hog's Head. The Slytherin was conversing animatedly with a person that Harry suspected was a brown haired girl. He crept forward out of curiosity. From the corner of his eye, Harry saw the mysterious girl hand Draco a folded parchment and a large book, which the blonde Slytherin accepted with an arrogant smirk. Harry walked up the street slowly, his curiosity rising with every step. He expertly dodged behind the copses of trees as he inched closer. Harry was virtually upon the conversing pair when the girl straightened her robes and picked up her satchel. Harry gasped in shock, recognising the satchel immediately. It belonged to Hermione.

The brown haired girl came out from behind the street but paused before she turned to go. As she was giving Draco some last minute instructions, Harry leapt out of hiding and marched up to the pair brazenly.

"Hermione!" he called out. The girl froze. She turned to Harry like a stunned deer. "What is going on?" he demanded angrily. Hermione turned a deep shade of red and looked to the ground while Draco's arrogant smirk turned into a sullen glare. Harry raised an eyebrow at the two of them and waited expectantly for an explanation.

*

"Great, you're boyfriend's coming," Draco drawled irritably.

"He's not my boyfriend," Hermione ground out flatly, but her voice held a slight tremble. Draco shot her a questioning look. He had never seen her so nervous before. She chewed her bottom lip compulsively while her hands fiddled absently with the clasp of her satchel. Harry closed in on them.

"What's going on?" the raven-haired boy demanded. He looked to Hermione questioningly. Then he turned to Draco and shot him with a venomous look of disdain.

Draco suppressed his nerves and smiled at Harry smugly. "Wouldn't you like to know," he drawled.

Harry's eyebrows nearly shot through his forehead. He looked at Hermione disbelievingly. "You-and him-" Harry stammered weakly.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione yelled in disgust. "I wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole!"

Draco frowned. He was slightly offended by Hermione's explosive insult. But he was more concerned that her inability to lie to precious Potter. Draco hated the girl intensely at that moment. It was always about Potter, what was best for Potter; no one gave him a second thought. Draco scowled. For the first time since confiding in Hermione, he truly feared that she would betray his secret. He gave Hermione a quelling look that bordered on a plea, but she simply ignored him.

"We were just talking," she said with a sniff of indignation.

"What about?" Harry asked shrewdly.

"This and that," Hermione replied unconvincingly. Harry gave her a reproachful look.

"You shouldn't lie to me Hermione," he scolded. Harry turned to Draco. "What have you got there Malfoy?"

Before the blonde Slytherin could react, Harry had already grabbed the book out of his hand. Draco scowled angrily and made a vain attempt at snatching the book back, but years of diligent quidditch practices had equipped Harry with reflexes that Draco could not match. He and Hermione resolved to watch in horror as Harry flipped open the heavy volume and began to read. Draco waited anxiously as the raven-haired boy absorbed the finely printed words off the page. He saw Harry's vibrant green eyes settle over the grey picture of Salazar's Fortress, for a second Draco imagined that a sign of recognition flickered across the boy's face.

"I've been there before," Harry whispered.

"What did you say?" Hermione asked disbelievingly. Draco narrowed his eyes at the confused boy.

"I've been there before," Harry said again, this time with certainty, "in my dreams."

Draco snorted. "You know, ordinary teenage wizards fantasise about pretty witches or dashingly suave wizards, which ever you so choose. They do not fantasise about draughty, old, evil fortresses. Honestly Potter, I hope you're not into the whole dungeon experience with metal shackles and leather-"

"Shut up Malfoy!" Hermione and Harry barked at the same time. Draco clammed up obediently, resolving to glare at the two in silence.

"Give that back Harry, it doesn't concern you," Hermione demanded.

"It does concern me!" Harry shot back. "You're my friend and I don't want to see you getting hurt. I don't even know why you're talking to this evil git. He's bad news Hermione, you should know that by now."

"You have no idea what you're talking about. Draco needs my help," Hermione retorted.

Draco widened his eyes in shock. What is the daft bint saying? He thought wildly. He saw Hermione flush a deep shade of beetroot before looking down at the gravel with interest. Harry's green eyes flew rapidly from Draco to Hermione, he narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the two trapped figures before him.

"What did you say?" he asked Hermione.

"Nothing," the brown haired girl muttered quietly. Harry turned to the heavy book again, his green eyes rested on a piece of loose parchment jutting out in the middle of the tome. Harry quickly extracted the folded piece of parchment and began to read. Draco watched on fearfully, afraid to breathe. Now he knows that I'm planning a trip to Albania. But all he'll know. It doesn't tell him a thing about my plans, Draco thought hopefully.

Harry turned slowly from the parchment disbelievingly. He studied Draco for sometime before speaking. "This is about your mother isn't it? Voldemort has her," he said, "and you're trying to get to Albania to rescue her. Hermione's been helping you for the past few weeks."

Draco gave Harry a dumbfounded stare. How on earth could he have guessed that? His mind questioned. At the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione nod wistfully. "It's true," she replied. "Voldemort has Narcissa."

"Who told you about my mother?" Draco asked Harry irately before turning on Hermione with a malicious glare. "Was it you?" The girl cowered in fright. "Did you tell one of your gossiping girlfriends or that sad, pathetic Weasley? Or did you go to precious Potter here directly? How could you! I trusted you!"

"She didn't tell me anything," Harry said firmly. "I saw it all in my sleep. Voldemort has your mother imprisoned in his chamber somewhere in the heart of Albania. He has force-fed her a poisonous draught that is killing her slow. There is no known antidote for the poison. Try if you must, but you may not reach her in time."

Draco felt the blood drain from his face; suddenly he became weak in the knees. A terrible hammering echoed through his head. His opaque, uncomprehending grey eyes stared into space. He collapsed onto the cold gravel underfoot. The bile in his stomach rose to his throat. Oh Merlin I'm going to be sick, his mind cried.

"Draco!" Hermione called from above. "Are you alright?"

But he could not hear her as he fell into the depth of oblivion.

*

"Blimey, it's taking him ages to wake," a resonate voice said somewhere above Draco's head.

Hold you're bloody horses, I've just cracked my head open, his mind snarled.

"Oh be nice," a soft but firm voice replied. "He's taken the information pretty hard."

As you would if you just found out that you're mother's dying, Draco's thoughts replied mournfully.

"I guess," the first voice sighed. "How long were you planning to hide it from me?"

"I don't know Harry," the girl replied quietly. "I would have told you."

"Really?" Harry asked sceptically. "I'm not sure you would have ever told me. I don't know why you feel so inclined to help him. It's as if you're somehow bound to him."

The girl paused and considered Harry's words. "I wanted to tell you, I really did. Sometimes it became so unbearable that I cried out to you in my sleep." She stifled a sob. "I am so sorry Harry, I feel like I've betrayed you."

Draco heard the shifting of fabric above his head. He surmised that Harry was now holding the tearful Hermione in his arms.

"It's alright," he said soothingly, running one finger through her curly brown hair. "It's not you're fault. I forgive you."

"I'm so glad," Hermione sighed. There was a brief period of silence.

Dear Morgana's armpits don't tell me they're snogging! I'm concussed for goodness sakes! Draco opened his eyes tentatively and squinted at the pair. To his relief, the two Gryffindors were merely holding one another awkwardly on the side of his bed.

"Get a room you two," he snarled half-heartedly. A moment later he realised he was in a small room and was lying on a bed rather than the hard gravel. "Where am I anyway?"

Harry and Hermione pulled apart and straightened their robes. Draco felt Hermione lean closer to him and place one hand to his left cheek. He brushed her hand away irritably.

"Don't touch me," he hissed violently. He felt Hermione flinch, her brown orbs pulled away from his pale face and looked down upon her hands helplessly. For the first time in his life, Draco felt almost guilty for having hurt someone else. The feeling was decidedly new and he didn't like it. He turned to the startled girl and gave her a reassuring smirk. "So you've told him everything?" he asked while looking at Harry.

"She has," the raven-haired boy answered. He sat in a dirty, brown chair opposite Draco's bed.

Draco nodded and turned away from Harry's prying eyes. He began to notice the dilapidated state of his surroundings; the walls of the small room were stained with an assortment of strange colours; bits of the carpet were frayed and sticking up at the edges. A terrible stench wafted across the small room which Draco imagined was mould.

"Where are we?" he asked again.

"We're in the Hog's Head," Hermione replied. "Harry and I brought you here so you could recover. The bar was pretty empty so I don't think anyone noticed us coming in." She looked at Harry uncertain before proceeding. "Harry and I have been discussing a few things."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Wedding plans?"

Harry coughed uncomfortably. "No Malfoy, we were talking about you."

"That's nice," Draco drawled while playing with a loose thread on his blanket.

"We've come to a decision," Hermione said slowly. "Harry and I are going to go with you to Albania."

At first Draco was not sure that he had heard the girl correctly. He looked up and met her dark determined eyes bearing down on him. He had no choice in it at all; once Hermione had her mind made up there would be no dissuading her, she and Harry were sure to follow him into the forest of Albania with or without his consent. Draco sighed.

"Hermione's told me all about your mother," Harry said awkwardly. He leaned forward in his chair and peered at Draco intently. "It's terrible what they've done to her and Madame Maxime. Hermione and I are willing to help you get her back so that you can spend some time with her before she passes away." Harry coughed and looked down at his hands uncomfortably. "The forest of Albania is a dangerous place with many dark creatures abound. I know enough about the Dark Arts to safely protect you and Hermione, so I think it best that I come along."

Harry paused and hazarded a look at Draco's withdrawn face. The Slytherin glared back at the Gryffindor with searing hatred. He narrowed his eyes at the raven-haired boy and cursed him in his mind. Harry blinked his innocent green eyes at the bed-ridden Slytherin and waited patiently for a reply. Draco hated him all the more at that moment for his naivety, for his ability to walk through life without ever knowing the painful realities that others had to face, for always being the hero, for having friends, for being likeable, for living the life that Draco had always so desperately desired. He scowled. But he would never tell precious Potter that his enmity was in fact driven by a deep jealously. Instead he would resort to underhanded insults to feed the illusion that somehow he was better than Potter. But the façade was crumbling, and Draco knew it.

"The great Harry Potter," Draco spat, "always to the rescue; champion of the weak and the ill fated. Let us wreath him in garlands and accolades! Egotistic Potter, you think you're so special just because you have a scar on your forehead and two dead parents. Let me tell you something, you're not special Potter, you're just lucky. You're lucky because the Fates have been kind to you thus far. You're lucky because you haven't tasted the cruel and unforgiving fury of life. Your fictitious greatness has brought you fervent minions who would die in your stead, and so you forever dwell in their shadows. Yo don't know the meaning of life because you have never really lived. So save your worthless pity, it has no effect on me. Until you learn the true meaning of darkness and pain, I have no use for you."

The room grew silent. Harry leaned back in his chair with a wounded and confused look hovering around his eyes, but Draco didn't care. He crossed his arms and glared sullenly into space hoping that the two Gryffindors would disappear. To his right, Hermione stiffened and shifted her weight until she was within arms reach of Draco. She swiftly raised her right palm and brought it down upon Draco's cheek with a loud smack. The blonde Slytherin jumped in spite of himself and turned to look at the irate girl standing beside his bed. His cheeks stung from the forceful assault.

"You bloody ingrate," she hissed venomously. The intensity of her words shocked both Harry and Draco. They looked up at her in horrified silence. "We're only trying to help you since no one else would bother to ease your plight. And frankly you don't deserve any better if you treat everyone with the same contempt that you've shown us! We're here against all better judgement trying our best to help you, and for what? Your scorn and derision? I want no part of it anymore. If you think you can face Voldemort alone then go ahead! I no longer care what happens to you because Merlin knows I've tried my best to help you, and Harry here doesn't owe you a thing! We're leaving Malfoy, you're on your own."

Hermione stood up shakily and straightened her robes. She stalked to the door, grabbing Harry's arm as she walked by. The stunned raven-haired boy followed her obediently in silence. Draco watched helplessly from his bed as the figures retreated from the room. He tried desperately to suppress the desire to call them back. For some reason, he still functioned under the delusion that he could make it alone. You're lying to yourself, his mind scolded. You cannot possibly achieve anything without them. Swallow your shallow Slytherin pride and call them back.

"Wait," he croaked. Hermione and Harry spun around from the door, their hands resting against the brass doorknob. Draco attempted to sit up in bed but his unwilling legs stayed firmly under the heavy, woollen blanket. "I'm-sorry," Draco said with a disgusted grimace, after all Malfoys were not accustomed to apologising for anything. He looked up at the pair tentatively, hoping that they would accept his sincere yet unconvincing apology. Hermione hesitated at the door while Harry gaped at Draco in disbelief.

"What did Malfoy just say?" Harry whispered quietly.

"Don't push your luck," Draco muttered with an evil glare. "I'm not saying it again." For a brief moment, Draco fancied that Harry managed a weak smile before disguising it with a small cough. Hermione nodded seriously and led Harry back into the room.

"From now on Malfoy, you will treat us with respect. Do you understand? And Harry will accompany us to Albania, you haven't got a say in that," Hermione ordered authoritatively.

Draco nodded. "Very well," he said.

Hermione, looking smug, stood up and ushered Harry to the door. "Go and make sure the others aren't looking for us," she instructed. "If they ask, tell them that we went for a long walk and lost track of the time. Tell them that you left me at Scrivenshafts to buy a roll of parchments. I'll try to smuggle Draco out of here as quickly as I can then I'll meet you back at the Three Broomsticks."

Harry nodded before heading out the door. He turned to say something to Draco but changed his mind. A moment later, he disappeared behind the corner. Draco listened as Harry's retreating footsteps faded into the distance. Once he was certain that the Gryffindor had left the corridor, he turned to Hermione. "So you told him about the Mark?" he asked as casually as he could muster.

"No," she replied, not looking at him.

Draco smirked satisfactorily. He placed one hand behind his head as a pillow against the iron bars of his bed. "That's good," he said. He did not want to imagine Harry's reaction once he discovered the Mark that branded him a minion of the Dark Lord. He grimaced at the thought of the skull and snake protruding grotesquely against his pale, white skin.

"Rest now," Hermione ordered as she sat down in the chair opposite Draco's bed. He watched as she extracted a book from her satchel and settled down to read. Her delicate, small hands rested on the edges of her book. Draco noticed that when she read, she opened her pink rosebud lips in anticipation at the words that danced off the page, her eyes weighed each sentence carefully for its' merit and meaning. She seldom blinked. "You're watching me," she said quietly, not looking up from her book. She turned the page and continued reading while waiting for a reply.

Draco turned away from the girl and looked out the window. He spotted a neglected patch of withering grass not far from the inn where the long, prosperous weeds swayed back and forth like hypnotic pendulums. "I'm not watching you," he finally replied. "That would imply I cared." Draco stretched out his cramping limbs and turned back to the girl who was now staring at him with questioning brown eyes. "And I never care, not even about you."