Harry Potter and the Siren's Song

***

After much bargaining with Madam Pomfrey, Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower the next afternoon to find that Hermione had been as good as her word: she'd covered an entire tabletop with brittle copies of the Daily Prophet. She, Ron and Ginny were in the middle of pouring through the yellowing papers when he entered the Common room.

"Harry!" Ginny smiled at him as he joined them. "You look much better."

Despite his worries about his godmother, the Dementors, Velange, and Voldemort, Harry had managed to get a full night's uninterrupted sleep, no doubt helped by the potion Madam Pomfrey had pressed upon him after Ron, Hermione and Ginny had left. Hermione somehow seemed to know all of this as she asked in a low voice, "No nightmares last night?"

"No, my head was blessedly vision free last night," Harry said, settling himself in a chair across from Ron and pulling a pile of yellow papers toward himself. "Anything yet?"

Ron shrugged, and made an obvious effort to keep the headlines of his own paper out of Harry's sight. "What?" Harry asked, frowning.

Ron's eyes were full of sympathy. "Trust me, you don't want to read this…it's dated November 1^st."

The day after his parents had been killed. "It's not like I don't know what happened to them, Ron." Harry's throat felt as though it had been filled with sawdust. "Besides, there may be some useful information there."

"Here's something," Hermione said loudly. "'St. Mungo's Reports Record Increase in Patient Admissions. Despite the generally uplifted environment of the wizarding word following the defeat of He Who Must Not Be Named, the number of admissions to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries has actually seen a marked increase, particularly in their mental capacities ward. The patients themselves are not limited solely to victims of You-Know-Who and their families, but have extended to include the family members of a number of known Death Eaters' families. A spokesman for St. Mungo's emphatically rejected the request from an emissary of victims' families that such treatment should be withheld. Many victims' families are outraged that their loved ones should receive treatment alongside the family members of those who helped to aid He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in his rise to power. "St. Mungo's does not serve as judge and jury," the hospital spokesman reminded protesters who had gathered outside the hospital's lobby, "our mission is to heal all members of the magical community who require aide.'" Hermione looked up from the paper to roll her eyes. "Honestly! They really expected any honorable doctor or medi-wizard to deny someone treatment just because of something their family may have done?"

"I don't blame them for being angry," Harry said stoutly. "I imagine it would be hard to take; the thought that someone you love would be treated the same as someone who's family brought the whole thing about."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Harry James Potter! You should be ashamed of yourself! You thought that the kiss should be administered to Sirius Black, until you found out that he was innocent! Whose to say that the Death Eater's families aren't innocent as well?"

"Let's think about this rationally, shall we?" Ron broke in sardonically. "The Death Eaters who supported Voldemort, wouldn't they include the Malfoys, the Crabbes, and the Goyles?"

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Hermione snapped.

"I will be once you let me finish!" Ron snapped back at her. "How else do you think those people would react? What if I lost Ginny, or Mum or hell even Percy to one of those nutters? And then found out that some poor dear old aunt of Lucius Malfoy's, who no doubt knew every angle of Voldemort's plans, decided to duck into St. Mungo's for a stay rather than face the music? I'd be trying to get the horrid lot of them chucked into the streets as well!"

"Stop it!" Ginny hissed. "This isn't helping! And besides, none of you are going to win this argument!" Her cheeks were bright pink as she continued in a low angry voice, "Neither side is completely innocent here…the victim's families had every right to be outraged but not at people whose only crime was in being related to Death Eaters. Think of Hagrid - remember how angry you were about Rita Skeeter's article, and how people turned on him just because his mother was a giantess!" Harry had never seen Ginny like this; it was not a little like watching Mrs. Weasley lose her temper. "Remember what Dumbledore said? 'It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be.'"

Ron, Harry, and Hermione muttered sheepish "Sorry's", none of them looking at each other. They each read on in silence, before Ginny gasped. "I-I don't believe it!"

"What?" the other three exclaimed, looking up.

"This! 'A Death Eater's Family Legacy: Disgrace, Dementia. There appears to be no end in sight to the troubles plaguing the family of accused Death Eater Augustus Rookwood, formerly Head of the Department of Mysteries. Rookwood himself has been ordered to serve to 12 life sentences in Azkaban for his role in bringing about the attacks on Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife Corrine, the murder of French Ministry of Magic envoys Antonia and Marcus De Lancret, and the attempted kidnap and murder of the head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office, Raymond Kingsley. While neither his wife nor his two adopted daughters have been accused of any involvement in Rookwood's actions, the shattered family is struggling with their newest heartache: the voluntary committal of the eldest daughter, Helena, to the psychiatric evaluation unit at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Evelyn Rookwood refused to comment to Daily Prophet inquiries as to the cause and nature of her daughter's illness. A member of St. Mungo's Staff, speaking under the condition of anonymity, said 'In a life already plagued with tragedy, it should come as no surprise to any who knew the Rookwood family well that their daughter lost her connection to the real world. She has chosen to withdraw into a world of her own creation, where the consequences of choices made by those she trusted cannot further harm her.'

It should be noted that this is not the Rookwood family's first brush with disgrace due to association with the Dark Arts. In 1968, Rookwood's sister and her husband were killed by Aurors following a yearlong investigation into their involvement with the dark wizard Ephialtes. Ephialtes was later charged with Necromancy in 1973, and has since been imprisoned in Charybdis, the Greek wizard prison. Since the deaths of Marissa and Edmund Velange, Augustus and Evelyn Rookwood have served as the guardians of their two daughters, Helena and Lauren, officially adopting their nieces in 1973.'"

Hermione looked thunderstruck. "Professor Velange? Her uncle was a Death Eater?" she asked faintly, shooting a nervous look at Harry.

"Frank and Corrine Longbottom?" Ron asked, frowning. "Do you think they're any relation to Neville?"

Harry sighed, and pushed his hair back off his forehead. "The timing's right, so I'd have to say yes." Three sets of startled eyes met his. He lowered his voice. "Neville's parents were tortured by Barty Crouch and some other Death Eaters who were trying to locate Voldemort after he lost his powers."

"How do you know about that?" Hermione asked him in the same low voice, looking about the room for Neville, and spotting him by the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's Pensieve," Harry answered simply.

"Are they dead?" Ginny asked sharply.

"No." Harry also looked over at where Neville was sitting by the fire, studying his Herbology notes. "They're insane. Dumbledore told me that Neville and his grandmother visit them during the Holidays. They, um, don't recognize him."

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. Ginny looked down at the paper in her hands, her eyes very bright.

Ron, however, looked nauseated. "And Velange's uncle was charged in helping bring the whole thing about? No wonder she's always going off on Nature vs Nurture - trying to distance herself, isn't she?"

Hermione shot him a disgusted look, and said softly, "Harry, what if it's, you know...her?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "Sirius said she went mad after my parents were killed, and he was sent to Azkaban. Rookwood wasn't even suspected until Karkaroff's trial."

Ginny was frowning. Harry looked at her. "What?" he asked.

"Harry, Sirius said your godmother went mad after your parents died. This story only says when Velange was committed. Which leads to the million galleon question…if Velange is mad and in St. Mungo's, what is she doing here?" Ginny said slowly.

"And what exactly were her parents doing in the company of a known Necromancer? That's the darkest of all magicks." Ron put in, giving Hermione a significant look. Hermione just glared at him.

"Hermione, you're the one who said something about her just seemed off," Harry reminded her.

"I said something didn't fit, not that I thought she was down in the dungeon attempting to channel the dead." Hermione said loftily.

"Dumbledore's really gone off his rocker this time," Ron mumbled. "Imagine hiring someone like that for a teacher?"

"Oh, heavens, are we back to this nonsense?" Hermione huffed. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn't hire anyone who was a Death Eater. I don't care what her uncle did, or her parents - if Dumbledore trusts her, then so should we."

"Dumbledore trusted Moody - well, fake Moody, anyway," Ron observed. "Not sure what all that says."

Hermione looked irritated. "He was right to trust the real Moody! And he was right to trust Snape AND Hagrid!"

"I agree with Hermione," Ginny said, laying down her paper. "Dumbledore's never been wrong about a teacher before-" Ron coughed, which sounded suspiciously like the word "Lockhart!" Ginny ignored him and continued, "and just because Velange's family made some, well, a lot of bad choices, doesn't mean she's not trustworthy. Look at the way she took care of Harry last night! And Snape obviously trusts her, and we know he's on our side."

"Snape seems to trust her," Ron said, shaking his head. "But how do we know that's not just part of his new role as spy?" He looked at Harry, who had been quiet throughout this whole debate. "You're looking awfully sober…care to share?"

Harry was staring off into space. "There's only one way to get to the bottom of this."

"Write to Sirius - he'll tell you whatever-" Hermione began, but Harry shook his head.

"No. You didn't see what he looked like when he saw Velange." Harry quickly told them about seeing Velange, Snape and Lauren the day after the Seges party, and how Sirius had reacted to seeing Professor Velange. "I won't put him through that again - not when he's just starting to get over Azkaban."

"He may have looked like that because he was so startled to see the woman he loved…" Hermione started.

"Or he may have looked like that because he knows something about Velange and Rookwood, and didn't want to tell me." Harry said, cutting her off. "Not that it matters, because I am not going to ask him. If he wanted me to know, he would have told me."

"So now what?" Ron asked, frowning.

"Lupin," Harry said. "I don't think he would ever keep anything from us, not after the bit with Wormtail, and he'll know if Velange is trustworthy…when he dropped me off this summer, I got the impression that Dumbledore keeps him well informed."

"This ought to be some letter," Ron grimaced. " 'Dear Professor Lupin: Hope all is well with you. Out of curiosity, can you tell us about Helena Velange - specifically if she's trustworthy? We've just found out her family's full of wacky dark wizards, and wanted to make sure she wasn't going to toss us all into the Chamber of Secrets with a new monster. Sincerely, Harry Potter.' "

"You might want to add a post-script to your letter of defamation," Hermione said to Ron shortly. " 'Oh yeah, and can you let us know about her sister Lauren? Seeing as to how she's putting the moves on my brother, I'd like to be forewarned as to whether or not she would appreciate a copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts for a Christmas present. Sincerely, Ron Weasley.' "

"Good idea," Ron said, grinning at her. "Knew I'd get you to my way of thinking."

***

As Ginny and Hermione were furious with the pair of them, only Ron accompanied Harry to the Owlery to send his letter off to Lupin. Despite the girls' objections, Ron was now firmly convinced that not only was Velange not Harry's godmother, but that neither Velange nor her sister was to be trusted. "Explains the singing, doesn't it? You were spot on with your instincts there - they were trying to control us."

"But why?" Harry asked, now thoroughly confused himself on his feelings towards Velange.

"Harry, if her parents were necromancers…" Ron shuddered, "well, let's just say I wouldn't be hanging around her office alone at night."

While Harry had opted against using either Ron or Hermione's version of the letter to Lupin, Harry's final version wasn't much different:

Harry shook his head, and tied his letter to Hedwig's leg. "I know he's in London - sorry I can't do better then that," he said to her apologetically, stroking her soft tail feathers. Hedwig gave a soft hoot and flew out the window, like a great pale ghost.

"Take a look at this!" Ron whistled from where he was looking out a window and over the grounds. Harry spied a group of three figures stepping out from the castle and heading towards the Forbidden Forest. In the pink light of the setting sun, Lauren Velange's hair was easily recognizable, even at this distance. "That means Snape and Velange are with her…wonder where they're headed at this hour?"

"No idea," Harry said, watching the small group slip into the dark shadows of the forest. He looked at Ron. "I really can't believe that Velange is a Death Eater in disguise."

Ron shrugged. "Better safe than sorry, if you ask me. And if we're wrong, she never needs to know that we found out about her past."

***

That proved easier said then done. The very next day, in their Current Events class, Velange had them researching the five different areas of study detailed by the Dark Arts Society. Ron, who had been shooting Velange suspicious looks the entire class, raised his hand.

"Mr. Weasley?" Velange asked.

"Yes, Professor, I was just noticing…there's no mention of necromancy in this text. Does the DAS not recognize it?" His tone was deceptively innocent. Hermione crossed her arms and shot Ron an Avada Kedavra look.

"Necromancy?" If Velange was upset by the sound of the word, she hid it well. "No, the DAS does not recognize it…they view it as too unstable a field for focussed study, and too dangerous an art to be trusted to any but a certain few."

"So there are those who view it as a legitimate field of sorcery?" Ron pounced. Harry had never seen him like this in class.

Velange frowned, sitting down behind her desk. "This subject seems to be of some importance to you, Mr. Weasley. Very well, tell us what you know about the art of necromancy."

Ron had the grace to blush. "Not too much," he muttered.

"I thought not," Velange said coolly. "However, as you brought it up…" she stood up and began pacing in the front of the room.

"You all know that necromancy is an obscure field of divination, by which its followers attempt to communicate with the dead. There are those who take this to the outer extreme, just as in any field of magic, and attempt not only to communicate with the dead, but to control them to their own liking." Lavender Brown shivered, and Parvati Patil looked faintly nauseous. "It is a topic that has fueled both fantasies and nightmares for generations. You wish to speak to your dearly departed child? Communicate with your ancestors to determine what course your life should take?" An odd smile crossed her face, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Raise an army of warriors who cannot be killed and will take no orders from any save you?" Ron raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry at these words.

"Imagine the power! To see into the beyond, to control those whom have already crossed over, to know the truth of life's most sacred mystery - what happens to us after we die?" Velange paused, studying the class. "Now, imagine the price. What would it cost for one to assume such power? And what must one be willing to give up?" Her eyes flashed, and for a second, Harry thought she looked angry. "Voldemort himself played only at the edges of this field…what does that tell you about the cost of such power?" Her eyes flickered to Ron again.

"Tell me, Mr. Weasley, who would choose to pursue such a field?" Ron stared at his desk, unable to meet her eyes. Harry slowly raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Someone who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain." Firenze's words of five years ago floated through his mind.

"In some cases, yes." Velange confirmed. She looked around. "Anyone else? Miss Granger?"

Hermione said in a soft voice, "Someone that feels they have no other choice."

Velange gave Hermione a piercing look. "Very perceptive of you, Miss Granger." The bell rang then, and Velange dismissed the class with a distracted wave of her hand, quite different from her usual warm yet disciplined manner. "Class dismissed," she said, quickly ducking out the door.

Harry, Ron and Hermione shot one another quizzical looks and hurried after her. "She's heading for the dungeons," Ron said excitedly. "Probably off to tell Snape how we're all on to her!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's the edge of insanity, Ron, and then there's the abyss…Dumbledore would never have hired a Death Eater, no matter what her parents may have done!"

"He hired Snape," Harry said wearily as they headed for the Great Hall and lunch.

"Snape isn't a Death Eater!" Hermione insisted.

"Yeah, now," Ron put in, dropping onto the bench at the Gryffindor table and reaching for a plate of chicken legs. "Was it me, or did Velange look more than just a bit nostalgic, talking about that necromancy stuff?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry shook his head. He really couldn't place Professor Velange as a Death Eater, or a servant of the Dark Arts, and yet something in his head was telling him she wasn't exactly who she claimed to be…

Ron wasn't through. "I'm telling you - that's why she and Lauren managed to put the whammy on all of us at the dance! Trying to control fate!"

"Yes, no doubt the dream of every Dark wizard is to make teenagers drink, dance and snog like bunnies!" Hermione got up and moved to join Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting a good fifteen feet down the table.

"Why is she so convinced that Velange is innocent?" Ron groused, watching Hermione out of the corners of his eyes.

"Ron!" Ginny had appeared then, just in time to hear this last bit. She stood staring at them both. "You're not still on about that, are you?"

"Why am I the only who sees Velange for what she is?" Ron asked Harry, ignoring his sister. She glared at the pair of them, and stalked off to join her own dorm-mates.

"Women," Ron mumbled.

***

On Thursday of that week, Harry was rushing down the corridor to meet with Professor Moody for his Dark Arts lessons when a hand on his shoulder made him jump. He turned around and was shocked to find himself facing Professor Trelawney. It was rare to see the Divination teacher outside her stifling tower classroom, and her flushed face and excited expression made him highly doubtful that she was carrying good news. "I'm late for a meeting, Professor-" he started to explain, looking frantically around the corridor for someone - anyone - who could rescue him from the predicament. Even Peeves would have been a welcome sight at the moment.

"This won't take but a moment, dear boy," Professor Trelawney said, her hand like a vise on his arm as she steered him inside an empty classroom. She shut the door behind them and then turned to face him. "I heard about your vision in Hogsmeade, and thought you might like to discuss its implications with an experienced seer prior to your meeting with Madame Vicarro."

It was on the tip of his tongue to say, "Yeah - do you know of any?" but decided not to. The last thing he needed was more homework. "Professor Dumbledore felt she would be able to help me understand what happened," he mumbled.

"Mmm." Her eyes flashed behind the large glasses. "Madame Vicarro is an excellent Ministry employee, but she does not fully understand the burden of the Inner Eye, especially on one so young." Harry fought not to roll his eyes at this statement. "Have you been practicing with the Tarot I gave you? They are an excellent tool at deciphering even the most obscure messages from the mystical plane."

"Um, not exactly," Harry said slowly. "Bit busy, lately. I'll see if I can use them tonight though. Thanks." He started inching for the door, but Trelawney put up a jeweled hand to stop him.

"Why don't you try now?"

"Well, like I said, I'm kind of late for a meeting," Harry said quickly, but Trelawney paid no attention.

"My dear boy, I have tried to warn you of the implications of ignoring your Gift, and you refuse to heed my words. Why do you think your vision was so powerful? If you try and bar the path of the super-conscious, it has no choice but to make its message known in other, more painful ways." She handed him a pack of Tarot, and waved him into a seat. "I speak from experience, child. There is no time like the present to begin understanding your Gift. Continue to ignore it, and it will merely become more and more impatient." Her fairy-light voice vanished and she said quietly, "In short, ignore the signs and you may end up a frequent visitor in Madame Pomfrey's ward. Do you understand?"

Wishing he could use simply Apparate away from this nutter of a teacher, Harry sat down resignedly at a desk, and shuffled the smooth cards. "Let's try a Celtic Cross Spread, shall we?" Trelawney persisted, sitting down next to him. "Clear your mind," she urged, "and shuffle until the cards tell you to stop."

Harry glared at her, but did as he was told. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and shuffled for a few minutes, stopping at his eleventh cutting. After he had dealt the cards in the approved ten-card spread, he looked down at the Tarot.

Professor Trelawney said nothing, and merely watched him. "What does it mean?" Harry asked, not particularly liking the cards he had dealt. "I didn't even ask it a question."

"No, dear child, you did not - which means this revolves around issues surrounding you." She pointed to the first card - the reversed Devil card. "This is represents your basic situation, and the major forces at work around you. Tell me what the reversed Devil card means to you."

"The Devil card points to evil, danger and negative influences," Harry recited dully. "When reversed, it points to enemies who have hidden resentments that they may be unaware of, as well as a danger that is present but other forces are holding it in check."

"Child, I'll warn you not to waste my time!" Trelawney snapped. "I didn't ask for you to regurgitate what it says in some text! I asked you what it means to you!"

Harry was shocked. He'd seen Trelawney angry before, but never like this. "I told you, I'm late for an appointment!" he snapped back. "Can't this wait?"

"Not when the cards have so clearly spoken to you - or would you like to have another vision like the last?" Trelawney was studying the cards, her glasses only a few inches from the pictures. "The Devil card represents you, dear boy - your denial of the situation around you, and the Gift you have been given. I also see you are fighting you own demons: guilt, anger, and your own temptations. A woman you feel you should not have, or cannot have?"

That shut Harry up. He slumped in his chair, remembering his own trepidation on whether or not his relationship with Ginny was placing her in danger. "What else?" he asked quietly.

She studied the cards: Justice, followed by the Ten of Swords, then three reversed cards: Judgement, the Aces of Wands and the Star. "You have enemies at your back, who have placed numerous conflicts before you, yet you have been blessed with the maturity to face them, mostly alone. A heavy decision was made, based on secrets and lies, and has since been reversed. I see a woman in your life, or more specifically, on the outskirts of it." She pointed to the reversed Empress. "Her family is fragmented, and her idealized image of romance has been shattered. She seeks a relationship with you, to recover from the trauma of the past." She looked up, her eyes glittering behind the thick glasses. "You are on the brink of a great discovery, which will lead you to a new relationship. This will have to proceed slowly, and you will have to find your heart willing to heal and allow this newcomer into your heart. Your main question revolves around Four of Cups - namely one who has been isolated from your life, and has a severe fear of disappointing you. The outcome, the two of swords," she let out a sigh, and Harry studied the card. It showed a woman sitting and holding two crossed swords, a blindfold across her eyes. "You will be faced with a decision; you may be forced to chose a side in a family argument. I see two people who would like to reconcile but don't know how to approach one another. If you handle the situation correctly, both sides will win."

Harry stared down at the cards. The picture of the Empress…could this represent his godmother? She had definitely been outside his life. Or did it represent Ginny - would his relationship with her place the entire Weasley family into jeopardy, and not only fragment it but her feelings for him? Oh God, what if I get one of them killed, the way I did Cedric?

He stood up suddenly, knocking the cards awry. "I have to go," he said firmly.

"Harry, wait-" Trelawney started to say urgently.

"I have to go NOW!" Harry all but shouted as he hurled himself out of the room, and ran down the corridor towards Moody's classroom. As soon as he was safely away from Trelawney, he ducked behind a large marble column, leaning against its cool surface and fighting to get a grip on himself. His heart was racing as though he had just run a mile, and his stomach lurched every time he thought of what the cards had said…

This was no longer a joke. His second Tarot reading had been dead on target and its implications were beginning to unnerve him. Despite his worries for Ginny and her family, he had the distinct feeling that the cards were actually talking about his godmother, and the fact that she was both alive and looking for him. But then, how hard was it to find him? As the Boy who Lived, his actions had been well recorded in the Daily Prophet. It was hardly a secret that he was in school at Hogwarts, or that he had been Tri-Wizard Champion. And as far as her disappointing him, unless she had somehow been involved with his parents' death, that hardly seemed likely…how could he be disappointed by someone he had never met?

Harry ran a hand through his hair, making it stand upright. There was no point in this, he told himself fiercely. He could make himself mad thinking about what could have been, or should have been. But until he found her, he would never know the truth.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry continued down the corridor towards Moody's classroom. He hoped that a good long training session would help erase this newest sequence of events from his mind. However, upon entering the classroom he discovered a whole new set of worries.

Ginny was sitting a desk, talking intensely with Moody, and they were both waiting for him.