Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

Harry woke early the next morning, startled out of the deep sleep he'd been enjoying. His dreams had been most confusing that night: centering on Ron, Hermione and Ginny. And all of them ending the same way, with Ginny's kiss. He could still feel the touch of her lips on his, tentative and warm. Obviously the little Ginny Weasley he'd known for three years was growing up.

He looked over at Ron's bed. It was empty, he realized. That's odd, he thought. Finding his slippers, he slipped down the stairs and into the common room. Surely, Ron wasn't still there…

He rounded the corner of the stairs, and stood frozen. Ron was fast asleep in front of the fire, his arms wrapped tightly around a girl with curly brown hair. Hermione.

A thousand questions exploded in Harry's mind. When had this all happened? While he was here, at Hogwarts? Giving himself a rough mental shake, he walked silently over to them and gave Ron's shoulder a gentle poke.

"Wha-" Ron's blue eyes popped open, looking dazed. Seeing Harry, he gave him a bemused look, then started as he realized just whom he was holding. Hermione opened her eyes, and sat bold upright. The two of them looked as though they'd been caught using Mrs. Norris as a Quaffle.

"It's all right," Harry assured them. It really is, he told himself. They were his best friends; he wanted them to be happy. Really he did. "It's just that everyone's going to be up in a few hours, and I thought you should both get up to bed."

"Right." Hermione pulled awkwardly away from Ron, giving Harry a small smile. "Thanks, Harry. It would have been awful if George and Fred had beaten you down here." She hurried up the stairs in the direction of her room.

"Harry," Ron said heavily. "I guess you want to know what's going-"

"Not really," Harry lied. "I can put two and two together." Even when he hated the answer…

"Really? 'Cause I keep ending up with three." Ron said miserably. "As in, the three of us." His mouth twisted unhappily as he said, "The last five years it’s always been us three, you know? I just…don’t want to wreck it..."

Harry gave Ron a measured look. "How long have you felt this way about Hermione?" he asked in a low voice.

"Oh, I don't know." Rifling an exasperated hand through his red hair, Ron rubbed his hands over his face. "Ages. Since the night of the Yule Ball. No, earlier - since second year maybe?" He looked miserable. "Not that it matters. She's with that great hairy Krum. He should have her, you know - he saw her before the rest of us did. Before I did, really. I just always thought…" his voice trailed off.

"That she'd be there?" Harry finished his sentence for him. He hid the look of surprise he'd felt when Ron had spoken about Krum. Why had Hermione not told Ron she'd broken it off with Krum? Harry wondered. He wasn't sure if he should, either. Hermione very rarely ever did something unless it was for a very good reason.

"Something like that. It sounds awful, I know." Ron bit his lip, then looked at Harry very seriously. "A big part of this lies with you, mate. We've been through a lot. After last year, I spent all summer trying to figure out what Voldemort would throw at us next." Harry gaped at him. Ron had said Voldemort's name too? Ron, who had been the most insistent about never speaking about "You-Know-Who" too loudly? And, Harry realized, Ron had spoken about Voldemort's next plot against 'us'. Not against Harry, but them. The Dream Team, as Snape often snidely referred to them.

"Harry?" Ron looked worried, and Harry turned his attention from his very jumbled thoughts.

"You said his name," Harry said swiftly.

"Huh?"

"Nice comeback. Voldemort - you said his name."

"Oh." Ron looked startled. "I didn’t even notice." He tapped his fingers anxiously against the chair, then gave Harry a weak grin. "As I haven't burst into flames or anything, I guess that's one bad habit gone." He stood up then, and began walking around the room saying "Voldemort! Voldemort!" After a few chants, he began to laugh. "Remind me when I become an evil overlord to chose a name that really strikes fear into people's hearts. This one doesn't quite cut it."

Harry snickered. "How about 'Ron the Ridiculer of Cauldron Bottom Reports'?"

"Not quite heart striking enough. I like 'Weasley the Woeful Diviner'. Might sign my next report for Trelawney that way." His face was suddenly anxious. "Harry, are we ok?"

"Never better." Harry grinned. "I feel like I should take this advantageous time to inform you that your sister kissed me last night. On the lips," he added for affect.

"I figured you didn’t mean on the nose, you prat." Ron appeared torn between anxiety over his friendship with Harry and brotherly protection of his sister. "Did you kiss her back?"

"Uh, no." When he saw that Ron was starting to look angry, he hurried to explain. "It was so quick, I didn't have time." Besides, he thought to himself angrily, I was trying to deal with the thought that you and Hermione seemed to be attached at the belly button.

"What are you going to do about it?" Ron asked, his voice carefully revealing nothing.

"Dunno. Figure out what to do next, I guess." He headed for the stairs. "We have to be up in a bit, Ron - and I'd rather not fall asleep in Velange's class."

Ron's face lit up. "Velange can't help but be an improvement over Binns. Even if she lectures on goblin rebellions in Swahili, at least we'll get to check out her, um, assets-"

"You sound like Seamus." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll bring a bucket for the two of you to drool in."

"You're just used to her, Harry. You got to spend all the quality time with her this summer." Ron followed him up the stairs, talking low. "Come on, spill. How was she?"

"Nothing doing….it'll spoil the fun of watching you and Seamus getting caught taking a great steamy look." For some reason, the thought of his classmates ogling Professor Velange annoyed him.

"Right," said Ron. "Ginny will be thrilled to know you're immune to the lures of older women." Snorting, he went to bed.

When he woke up two hours later, Ron was sitting at the foot of his bed. He was already dressed, and when Harry sat up, he noticed Ron looking at him anxiously. "I already told you, we're ok." Harry said. "Really."

"I know." With that, Ron handed him a box. It was wrapped in sheets of newsprint from the Daily Prophet.

"On the other hand, if you're going to wake me up with presents, we're not ok. We won't be ok until I get a self-stirring-"

"It's your birthday present." Ron cut him off, a grin on his face. "Told you I couldn't send it with Pig."

"Good call - otherwise the Muggles would have had a field day reporting how on how Pig staggered all over Britain trying to get to Privet Drive." Harry ripped off the paper, opened the box, and let off a whoop of excitement. "How'd you know I needed these?" Inside were new gloves and pads for his Quidditch uniform. There was also a chain for his robes, carved with an elegant Gryffindor lion.

"Saw how you had trouble getting your gloves off after the last Slytherin match. The chain's from Ginny, actually. She thought since you were captain this year-"

Harry gaped at him. "But I'm not."

"Oh, come off it. You know Fred and George aren't interested in it, and Angelina said on the train there was no way she could that and be Head Girl. Katie and Alicia said they needed to focus on their NEWTS. That leaves you by default. Just accept it. Besides, you'll be great." Ron stood up, and stretched. Harry couldn’t get over how tall his friend had gotten. "Best get a move on, unless you want to miss breakfast." He moved for the door.

Harry stared at his present, then said quietly, "Good thing you'll be on the team too…we can strategize together and drive Hermione positively mad."

"What?" Ron's head swiveled around to look at him.

"You heard me." Harry got out of bed, and began reaching for his shower kit. "We have an opening for Keeper, remember? Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go shower."

At breakfast, Harry and Ginny sat next to each other. He still didn't know exactly how he felt about her; he was very attracted to her, and there was no denying that her kiss last night had left him feeling a tad light headed. But she was Ron's sister . He'd spent so much time at The Burrow that he felt somehow guilty pinning his romantic sights on Ginny.

On the other hand, they were friends, they were comfortable with each other - well, mostly. And Hermione looked thrilled to see them together…mostly. Her eyes had narrowed when Ginny had put a hand on his arm, laughing at a joke he'd made. Harry shook his head and returned to his eggs. Romantic intrigues were far too complicated for him to deal with this morning.

"New course schedules." Angelina brought the stack over to the Gryffindor table, and they passed them down the line to their owners. Hermione looked hers over. "Oooh, good. History of Magic with Velange. Those books she assigned were fascinating. I was a little surprised to see that Muggle Psychology book, though."

Ron dropped his fork. "That's for Velange's class? Damn, I thought it was for Muggle Studies."

"They sell them in Hogsmeade." Harry put in. "You can pick one up next visit."

"We'll share until then, Ron." Ginny added with a wicked grin. "For a small fee, naturally."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me keeping quiet about what you wrote in your diary this sum-OWW!" Ginny had apparently kicked him - hard - under the table. Scowling at his blushing sister, Ron looked at his own schedule. "I'm going to put in a written request for an inquiry as to why we ALWAYS have potions with the Slytherins. I swear Snape schedules them that way on purpose to make sure he has an audience for our humiliation."

"Not to mention Care of Magical Creatures." Harry added, citing a further groan from Ron and Hermione. "So long as we're petitioning, can we request that Divination be moved to midnight? Those naps in Trelawney's class are really starting to interfere with my sleep."

Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of a cold drawling voice. "Hello, Granger. I'm very disappointed you didn’t stop by to finish our little talk." Draco Malfoy stood directly behind Hermione. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and bent down to whisper something in her ear. She went white with rage and stood up, Ron and Harry already on their feet.

"Problem, gentlemen?" Harry recognized the voice instantly, but Ron and Draco looked slightly taken aback upon hearing it. Professor Velange stood beside them, a look of amusement on her face.

"No, Professor." Hermione put in quickly. "Draco here was just letting us know how thrilled he was that you're adding some elements of Muggle studies into the curriculum. Draco's very interested in everything to do with Muggles." Her voice was saccharine sweet. Harry was impressed - no way could he have thought that fast on his feet.

"Really." Velange gave Draco a smile and an appraising look. "I have a few advanced projects you might be interested in, Mr. Malfoy. I believe I have your class first thing after breakfast. Why don't we walk down together and you can tell me what you'd like to learn from my class?" She placed a small hand on Malfoy's shoulder and began steering him back towards the Slytherin table. The look he shot back at the four of them was pure malice.

Ron was laughing so hard he had to wipe his eyes. "That's my girl!" he said, grinning at Hermione. "I've never seen Malfoy look so uncomfortable."

"Hard to tell Velange 'No'." Harry added.

Hermione was frowning. "Cheer up, Hermione - whatever he said is nothing to the hell you just created for him." Ginny said quietly.

"No, I suppose not." Hermione stood up. "I'm off. See you in History."

Harry and Ron looked at one another, eyebrows raised. What was that all about? Harry thought.

The thought of starting his first day back with Divination made Harry drag his feet all the way to the top of North Tower. Ron was next to him, talking excitedly about the upcoming Quidditch team try-outs. They were also accompanied by Seamus, Dean and Neville. None of them particularly enjoyed Divination, and it was because of this that they arrived five minutes late. Lavender and Parvati both gave them extremely cold looks, and turned their attention back to Professor Trelawney.

"My dears, it is time to move forward into your next phase of training! The Tarot date back hundreds of years, and still their powers remain a mystery to all but the trained mind. We will begin by reviewing the major Arcana."

Dimming the lights with a flick of her hand, Trelawney summoned up the large image of a Tarot card. It showed a light-hearted young man, with a small bag slung over his shoulder with a small dog at his heels. "The Major Arcana comprises the core of the Tarot deck. Twenty-two cards that depict symbolic patterns of human development, personality, situations and events. We begin by studying The Fool. The Fool is thought to represent every person in his or her original state of innocence and inexperience. It also represents the start of new journeys, new romances, and opportunities. However, the dog at his heels represents the voice of instinct, and warns of danger ahead…"

Harry was soon lost in a daze of Magicians, High Priestesses and Emperors. The heavily perfumed air in Divination unfailingly made his head feel as though it had just been filled with the fog from one of Trelawney's crystal balls. Tarot was more interesting, he had to admit, then star charts or crystal balls. At least with cards he could memorize what they meant and have some solid information for once. On the other hand, he realized it would be much harder to bluff through the assignments as he and Ron usually did.

He came back to earth at a poke from Ron. "Pair up in teams of two," Professor Trelawney said in her airy-fairy voice. "Collect a packet of Tarot from me and return to your tables. Then chose your Significator card - the card that represents you. When you have completed that, perform the Three Card Spread as shown in your books, and read your interpretation, writing it down to turn in at the end of the class. When you have finished, your partner should do likewise. I will be around the room, lending guidance."

Ron, looking as though he'd rather be fighting off the Giant Squid with a pair of chopsticks then consulting a pack of cards regarding his future, collected the Tarot and returned to their table. He tossed the pack at Harry. "You first - you know she's dying to have them say how many ways you'll be decapitated this year. I'd hate to deprive her."

Rolling his eyes, Harry shuffled through the deck, looking for the card that was supposed to represent him. Choosing the Knight of Swords, he held it up for Ron to see. "That's you, all right - charging off on a horse to fight, and forgetting to lower your face shield." Ron grinned. "Go on - what do you want to ask it?"

"Can't it just be a general reading?" Harry wasn't really comfortable asking what he'd really like to know in front of Ron.

"I know - ask it about Voldemort. What he's up to, that sort of thing." He flipped through their book Unfogging the Future and pointed to a chart. "Here - two major influences explaining the focus of the present situation."

"Right. I want to know about Voldemort." Harry said, shuffling the deck nervously. The cards were very cool to the touch. His Significator lay in the center of the table. He lay three cards out, the center one over the Knight of Swords. Ron whistled.

"I may not know much about Tarot, but this doesn't look like it's exactly talking about bunnies and sunshine."

Harry was looking at the cards incredulously. The first card was the Wheel of Fortune. A sphinx sat atop a wheel in which the letters "T-A-R-O" were interspersed with letters he didn't recognize. Four figures were in the corners of the card; an angel, an eagle, a winged lion and a winged bull. Beside the wheel slithered a long snake and a jackal headed figure he didn't recognize. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off the sphinx. He had faced a sphinx in the maze as part of the last task…was this significant?

His next card was The Devil. "That's the focus card!" Ron hissed. The other two are the influences. "Well, we all know Voldemort is the devil incarnate." Harry said wearily. How did I pull that particular card, though? Twenty-two major arcana (21, if you took out the wheel of fortune card) and he'd managed to pull the Devil for the Focus card?

The last card showed a man lying on the ground, with ten swords stuck in his back. The ten of Swords, Harry thought automatically. What does this all mean?

Ron was making such a big deal over Harry's reading that Seamus and Dean came over to look. "Harry, promise me you weren't asking for the results of the first Quidditch match." Dean said, looking half-impressed. "If so, I'd just forfeit - no way are you going to beat that lot."

Harry frowned at him. "No, I wasn't asking about Quidditch. I was asking about Volde-"

"Don't say it." Seamus said quickly. "Sorry, I just hate the sound of his name…more specifically, I hate what it does to people."

"Then learn to say it!" Ron said in annoyance. "It's just a name, for God's sake! Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort! See - no strike of lightning to finish me off, no Veela come to drag me off by my ears!"

Seamus looked shaken. Dean looked stunned. And the rest of the class, Harry noticed, had turned around to stare at them, Trelawney included. "Finnigan, Thomas - if you'd kindly return to your table." She swept over to Harry's side. He cringed, waiting for her usual tragedy-filled commentary. Surprisingly, she made none. "I would suggest you finish your interpretation, dear - this seems to have significant meaning for you." Then she swept away, joining Neville and Hannah Abbott's table.

Harry and Ron both stared incredulously after her. They had never seen Trelawney give up a chance to predict Harry's imminent death and suffering. "Right," Harry said finally. "Let's see - the Devil card is the focus. That means," he rifled through his book, "many evils, dangers, and negative influences. It signals the presence of enemies, and warns of danger." Harry rolled his eyes. "Tell me something I don't know."

"So what's influencing the present focus - aka the Big Bad?" Ron asked.

"Um, Wheel of Fortune - represents the workings of destiny through the cycles of change." Harry snorted. "Otherwise known as a game show that involves the hugging total strangers and spinning letters."

"A what?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Never mind." Harry said quickly. He read on. "The Wheel of Fortune indicates that a change is coming up, and that the matter in question may play a role in your larger destiny." He dropped his voice, so only Ron could hear this last bit. "One of the things this card may promise is a second chance. This is because the Wheel is concerned with the cyclical progress of life, and the idea that we repeatedly come around to the same point."

"Who's second chance, though?" Ron asked urgently. "Voldemort's or yours?"

Harry looked at the third card - the other major influence. "The ten of Swords", he read "stands for cyclical patterns of conflict, as well as the maturity to face them. Among its lessons is that History repeats itself. Tens can represent times when the life cycle of an individual or individual family interact with the cycles of history and the world." He looked at his significator card, and swallowed. "What, so I'm charging off to meet Voldemort in a recurring cycle? No thanks."

"You have though." Ron said quietly. "I think it means that your destiny is to stop the cycle, Harry. Otherwise you'll keep banging out to meet him with your face shield up."

Neither said anything for a long time. As Ron scooped up the cards, and began to shuffle for his own reading, Professor Trelawney called to Harry. "Mr. Potter - if I could see you for a moment."

Heart sinking, he went to her desk. Was she going to tell him that the cards meant he was going to die - again? Her glasses reflected his image back at himself, and he waited.

"A three card reading with two major Arcana is rare, my dear. The Major Arcana only represent thirty percent of the deck, so when any reading is more then thirty percent in Major Arcana, it means that there are great spiritual and psychological issues at stake." Her bangles glittered in the firelight. "And for you to have pulled such a telling three card read indicates to me that you were quite focused on receiving an answer."

Harry didn't speak. This was the most bizarre conversation he'd ever had with Trelawney. "This is the most promise I have seen out of you yet, my dear. I always suspected, of course, but now….you are showing true signs of The Sight."

"I just pulled some cards," Harry muttered.

"Take these." Trelawney handed him another deck of cards in a small black silk bag. "I want you to practice with them, get to know them, let them attach themselves to your inner Eye. In a few weeks, we'll see if you were 'just pulling cards'." She raised her voice very slightly. "That's enough for today, my dears. Until we meet again, may fair fortune be yours."

After they descended the stairs from the trap door that led to Trelawney's classroom, Ron turned to look at Harry. "What'd she want?"

"To give me these." Harry said wearily, indicating the Tarot. "She think my reading was real - wants me to practice."

"That was some reading, Harry. First thing we've ever done in that room that didn't reek of her winding us up."

Harry couldn't argue with that. Normally he and Ron agreed that Trelawney was a fraud. Harry had only ever seen her give one remotely divine reading - the night she predicted that Wormtail would return to Voldemort. But this - this was Harry doing the predictions. "Maybe my inner eye just decided to come out and play for a bit," he said lightly. "Come on - we'll be late for Velange."

Professor Velange's classroom was on the second floor. As they got close to the classroom, they spied Hermione waiting for them impatiently. "Come on!" she hissed. "We're the last ones in."

Sure enough, the class had arrived early. By the looks of it, the boys of the class had arrived first. Smiling knowingly, Harry followed Ron and Hermione back to a table in the corner, shoving the Tarot cards deep into his book bag.

Two familiar voices sounded out in the hallway, making the class turn to listen.

"Thank you for the tea, Severus. I'd forgotten how dusty the classrooms were. Would have been a shame to lose my voice on the first day."

"You shouldn't talk too much, Lena - you know you're still getting adjusted." Snape's voice sounded - well, very different then his usual sneer. Was this how he sounded away from the classroom? Harry wondered. This sounded almost courtly, as if he were truly concerned about Velange's voice.

"The more I use my voice the stronger it gets, Severus. Don't worry. I'm pacing myself."

"I'll see you at lunch, then. Have a good class." Professor Velange entered their classroom and gave them all a welcoming smile. Dean and Seamus, he noticed, appeared to be holding their breath.

"Good morning." The sound of Velange's voice never failed to send a slight shiver down Harry's spine. It reminded him of hot cocoa on a cold day, or lying in the sun in late afternoon. "I am Professor Velange. Before we get started on our lesson, I thought we’d all introduce ourselves. Tell me your name, your House, and…" she looked thoughtful for a moment, "why you think wizards use the Dark Arts."

This was an odd statement. Harry saw a few puzzled looks, but still everyone seemed willing to give it a go. The first to stand up was Justin Finch-Fletchley. "Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hufflepuff. Wizards use the Dark Arts to attempt to control fate to their own liking."

"Ernie Macmillan, Hufflepuff. Wizards use the Dark Arts when they're desperate to control a situation."

"Parvati Patil, Gryffindor. Wizards use the Dark Arts when they run out of options."

"Lavender Brown, Gryffindor. Wizards use Dark Arts because they enjoy feeling powerful."

When Hermione's turn came, she stood and said "Hermione Granger, Gryffindor. Wizards resort to the Dark Arts because they feel using them makes others weak by comparison." Velange said nothing, but Harry saw her eyebrow raise.

"Ron Weasley, Gryffindor. Wizards use the Dark Arts because they're cowards." Ron said vehemently.

"Harry Potter, Gryffindor. "Wizards use the Dark Arts because they can no longer tell the difference between good and evil. They just see the power it holds."

"Excellent." Velange had been making notes on the blackboard. After Harry finished speaking, she pointed at the list she'd made. It read:

"Can you think of any one concept that could be described by these terms?" she asked. "Neville?"

Neville Longbottom looked up from his notes, his face set. "A god." He said softly.

There was a long silence. Velange appeared to be waiting. "Someone who thinks they're a god." Neville clarified.

"Exactly. Those who practice the Dark Arts think they're above the mores of our society. They feel those who don't take advantage of the powers afforded to us as a wizard society are soft. There's just one problem with this mode of thought. Can anyone spot it?"

"They're just mortals." Parvati answered.

"Correct. Mortals who will have to answer to some sort of moral code at some point in their life." She waved her hand and the words erased themselves from the blackboard. "Even Voldemort had to answer to some sort of mortal code….when he tried to kill an innocent child whose mother died to save him." Harry could feel himself going slightly red. Velange didn't seem to want to linger on this topic, however. She'd already moved on and was writing on the board again.

Facing the class again, she asked, "Anyone care to explain that? Hermione?"

Harry was very thankful that Velange had called Hermione's name - she'd been all but hopping up and down waving her hand as other people answered questions. "It's the fundamental difference between psychology and sociology. What makes us what we are? The genes we inherited from our families or the society that raises us?"

There was comprehension on the faces of students who were Muggle-born, and blank stares on those from wizard families. "Jeans? What have they got to do with anything?" Ron whispered to Hermione.

"Not jeans. Genes."

"Same thing." Ron hissed.

"No, they're not!" Hermione hissed back.

"As Miss Granger so excellently phrased it," Velange said, silencing their argument, "Nature vs. Nurture is a centuries old argument between the fields of Psychology and Sociology. Now, how is it applicable to the wizard world? In every way possible! Wizards pass on traits to their children; they raise them within the mores of their families before sending them to school to learn the accepted traditions and mores of the society that surrounds them. This much we know. What we don't know…what the argument is based upon, is what has the greater force on deciding what a person will become. For instance, will a man who is raised by intellectuals become an intellectual himself - even if his natural family is only of average intelligence? And far more importantly in our world, especially today - will a wizard chose to join those who practice the Dark Arts, or is it something they are raised to do. Does society or the individual chose what path that person will lead?"

For the next fifty minutes, one could have heard a pin drop in Velange's classroom as they all silently took notes on the various individual and societal pressures. With five minutes to go, she stopped them and said, "In order for you to understand how important this argument is, you will all do research on either the dark wizard Grindelwald or Voldemort and write an essay on what you feel most influenced them to become followers of the Dark Order - nature or nurture. Twenty-four inches, please and due next Monday. And now," she stood and smiled at them all, "I think you'd better head to the Great Hall for lunch."

As the class spilled out into the hallway, Harry said to Ron and Hermione "I'll catch you up - go ahead." He walked up to Velange's desk and said "Ah, Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" Her smile was warm and comforting as she carelessly waved a hand and the blackboard erased itself of her carefully scribed notes.

"Professor...do you believe in, um, Tarot?"

Velange, who was taking a sip of her tea from a large glass, sputtered and set it down.

"Sorry - I'll take that as a no." Harry said hurriedly. He turned to leave.

"Harry, wait." Velange called after him. "You just took me by surprise. Have a seat." She sat down and gave him a curious look. "Why do you ask?"

Without stopping to think, Harry sat and told her all about what had happened in Trelawney's classroom. "I've never been able to do anything in Divination, and now this." he finished. "I just wish I knew what it meant."

Velange was drumming her fingers lightly against the desk. "You asked me if I believe in Tarot, Harry. The answer is yes. I don't think the cards can be used to divine mystical answers from the spirits, but I do think the subconscious mind is a very powerful entity. I think that in using Tarot cards, you can more easily answer the questions to which you already hold the answers in your mind. The Tarot, due to their symbology, simply make it easier to spot the patterns, and determine the answer that you already know."

"Sort of like a Pensieve." Harry said quietly.

"In a way." Velange looked worried. "Are you alright, Harry?

"Yeah, I am." Talking to Velange reminded him in many ways of talking to Sirius - she didn't attempt to answer his questions for him, just showed him how to get there. "See you at lunch." Harry said before turning to leave the classroom.

"And Harry," he looked back. "Try not to focus too much on Voldemort - he's not worth the attention."