Harry Potter & The Blade of Carmen-Eversor

A dusty stretch of road, rarely used, wound its way up a small yet steep hill that had a dense covering of trees. Harry had no idea where he was, nor indeed how he came to be there. What he did know, though, was that he was spirit-traveling.

It was bitterly cold and Harry had nothing more than slippers, paisley pajamas, and s dressing gown to keep him warm. As his teeth chattered uncomfortably, he felt around in his pockets in the vain hope he would find his wand. However, he found nothing at all. As tired as he was, Harry knew he had to keep walking because - as the wind cut through him fiercely - he realised his only chance of warmth was to keep moving.

Cursing his luck, Harry set off up the hill. Then immediately halted as he heard Dumbledore's voice ring out in his head -

"I'm just a little concerned that every time you spirit-travel you seem to be drawn to Voldemort..."

Filled with an icy dread, Harry hastily scrambled off the track and ducked down behind a tree. If he really was spirit-traveling again - and he could not see any other plausible explanation - then that must mean Voldemort was somewhere nearby. Harry felt indescribably vulnerable without his wand and was confused about what he should do for the best. He had been traveling up the hill, towards the summit so surely that was where Voldemort would be. Should he continue up the hill but remain under the cover of the trees or should he turn around and retrace his steps? Then he remembered; he didn't know which way he had come from so couldn't exactly retrace his steps very easily. Sighing resolutely, he realised he had no choice but to go on. At that moment Harry felt as though he was no more than just another one of Fate's pawns; powerless, insignificant and unable to control his own destiny. This was not to be the only time he felt like this and he knew it.

Harry waded a short distance into the copse so that he could still see the road but would be less easy to spot by anyone who just happened to be going for a stroll in the middle of the night. After what must have been an hour's slow progress of forcibly parting brambles and branches, the ground leveled out. By the bright moonlight Harry could see that the hill led to a little hollow encircled by trees, not even a hundred yards away.

Decision time again, Harry thought grimly. Would his best bet be to skirt around the perimeter where he could remain obscured from view behind the line of trees? Or would he be better off going down into the hollow where there was next to no cover therefore meaning he could clearly be seen? There were possibly five or six old cottages in the dip, perhaps he could seek shelter in one of these... All the while he was uncomfortably aware that Voldemort was liable to appear at any moment.

The first of his options would perhaps save him from an encounter with the Dark Lord, but Harry seriously doubted he would survive the night unless he found shelter soon. It would be all very well and good to steer clear of a confrontation with Voldemort but end up dying of exposure instead, so, gritting his teeth, Harry clambered back onto the track and made his way down into the gully.

Harry passed right by the first two houses. He could not explain or even describe it, but there had been a feeling about them that Harry had found unwelcoming. So he had carried on, his slippers slapping noisily against the gritty surface of the road. Then Harry arrived at what had once been a cottage but appeared to have been destroyed or crumbled away a very long time ago. There was little left of it save for the foundations and scattered portions of the walls. Something about the house captured his full attention and he felt a bizarre longing in his heart.

He forced his way into the overgrown garden and halted at where he presumed the front door would once have been. The longing inside him intensified until it became more of a passionate hunger. H stepped over the threshold and immediately the aching evaporated, leaving Harry feeling a deep emptiness within.

Without warning, a painful image flashed across his mind. He saw his mother's smiling face beaming down lovingly into his. This image was replaced by another - one of his father, who lifted him joyously into the air, as a baby. A third image forced itself into prominence and Harry saw both his mother and father together, holding him close to them with a strong and unbreakable tenderness. Suddenly Harry knew where he was; his parent's house.

Harry stepped cautiously into the first room off the hall, felling numb with shock. Another memory flickered across his eyes before disappearing again almost instantly. It had been an image of the living room, this room, as it had been while his parents were still alive.

Somewhat surprised, Harry backed out of the empty shell of the living room and turned to the doorway across the hall. There was nothing left in here to indicate that this had once been a kitchen, yet Harry saw in his mind's eye a picture of the kitchen in its former glory. Feeling fairly frightened, Harry backed away from this room too. He entered each of the other rooms in turn, all the time seeing clearer and clearer images of the house.

Finally he reached the stairwell. Only three stone steps, curving smoothly, remained. Harry sat on the middle one and covered his face with his hands, willing the memories to fade away yet at the same time trying to hold onto each one. He was swept into a swirling tornado, all the pictures blurring into one another and engulfing Harry in a silent despair. He tried to separate the images - to slow them down so he could distinguish one from another - but he couldn't. He had kept them locked away for so long that they were all bursting forth uncontrollably now they had been released.

Harry had hidden these memories so deep within himself that he had totally forgotten their existence. All of them were happy images, yet they drew Harry into a jumble of emotions as they resurfaced explosively. He felt sadness. A sadness so deep he thought it would never end; a sadness at all he had lost and longed for; and a sadness for all that would never - could never - be. Yet beyond the sadness was loneliness. He wanted so much to be with his parents or for them to be with him, but he knew this wasn't going to happen so he simply felt alone. Though, somewhere within the depths of his despair and isolation a quiet joy was blossoming slowly and steadily. A joy at having been loved so deeply that this house, though it had been cold and abandoned for many years, was still over flowing with the love it had known.

Harry was oblivious to the chilly night, all his fears about Voldemort forgotten as he allowed himself to be swept up in the rush of memories. It was only when the buoyant pictures began to dim, pushed aside by a sweeping cold and a surge of green light that Harry began to come back to merciless reality. A cruel laugh rang in his ears before all the memories vanished leaving Harry trembling in the still night. He shook partly from cold, partly from sadness and partly from anger.

Harry was surprised as a tiny shimmering droplet fell onto his hand. It was a tear - he suddenly became aware of the way his eyes were watering and tight his throat had become. As he dried his eyes on his sleeve an expectant thrill slipped through him as he thought he heard a voice murmur, Why are you here?

The question seemed to have been sighed on the wind and whispered through the leaves; why are you here? Realising he was no longer safe to rest here Harry got up and strode purposefully back to the dusty road. As he headed for the nearest house, Harry cast one last, longing look at the ruins illuminated by the moonlight.

Harry hobbled onto the porch of the first house he came to and hammered on the door with as much strength as he could muster. An odd tingle swept over him, but he ignored it when warm relief coursed through him as a light clicked on somewhere inside and he heard someone moving within.

Abruptly, the door swung open and the first thing Harry registered was that someone was pointing a wand directly at his heart. Well, he thought, at least I picked a wizarding household. He raised his eyes to look into the face of the wand's owner and felt his mouth fall open in astonishment. The man before him was looking at Harry in much the same way. It was Remus Lupin.

Lupin was gawping at Harry with wide eyes. So profound was his amazement that he could no longer speak. Harry stood shivering on the doorstep for a short time longer before plucking up the courage to speak, "Er - would it be alright if I come in?"

Lupin seemed to come to his senses and lowered his wand, "Yes of course, Harry. You must be freezing!"

Harry staggered gratefully forwards as his legs began to seize up. His host ushered him inside and led him to a small, but nevertheless very cosy, lounge. Lupin pointed his wand at the fireplace and muttered, "Incendio." Immediately flames leapt forth, crackling merrily as though they had been alight for hours. Harry sank into a comfy armchair, exhausted and was vaguely aware of Lupin leaving the room. A few minutes passed and Lupin returned carrying a very thick blanket, which he draped over Harry.

"Harry - how in heaven's name did you get here?" Lupin peered at him in confused concern.

"N-not - really - sh-sh-sure," Harry replied with chattering teeth. "Spir-ir-it-travelled - not - s-safe - Voldemort - near - V-V-Voldemort..."

Harry's head sank backwards as he began to slip out of consciousness. Lupin grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him roughly.

"Harry - can you hear me? You must stay awake, Harry. Harry -"

But Harry was too cold and numb to respond. His head drooped onto his chest and he thought he saw Lupin walk out of the room again.

Not even five minutes had passed when Harry began to notice the feeling in his limbs and digits returning. Lupin was once more by his side, forcing a potion down his throat that scalded his mouth and pallet uncomfortably. Harry's eyes snapped open and he was suddenly wide-awake. He grabbed Lupin's arm, "It's not safe here - Voldemort is nearby! We have to get away from here now!"

"Harry relax, calm down! Right, start from the beginning."

"No time!" Harry yelled in a mad panic, "We have to get out of here NOW!"

Lupin was startled by Harry's outburst but seemed ready to accept that what he said was true as he heaved Harry up by his elbow. "The quickest method to get away is to apparate but you don't know how, do you? Ok - then we'll have to use floo powder instead, but where shall we go? We can't use floo powder to enter Hogwarts..."

"The Burrow," Harry said frantically, saying the first thing that pooped into his head, "we could go to the Burrow."

"Good idea - let me just grab some things first." Lupin was feverishly dashing about, hurling an assortment of objects into a small traveling case. "Ok, let's go!"

Lupin threw powder onto the fire and the roaring flames burned emerald green, leaping upwards until they were taller than he was. He then nudged Harry forwards who shouted, "The Burrow."

Lupin's living room was whipped away in a roar of deep green flames. Harry revolved faster and faster as he caught snatched glimpses of rooms beyond fireplaces. Feeling decidedly dizzy he closed his eyes, waiting for it all to end.

Abruptly, Harry stopped spinning and toppled sideways out of the Weasley's kitchen range. Unfortunately for Harry, one of the dining room chairs had been in his way, so he fell painfully onto it. The chair skidded across the room where it collided with the table creating an almighty BANG!

Harry lay sprawled on the floor too dizzy to get up, when Lupin arrived. Somehow his former teacher was able to remain standing and swept forwards to help Harry to his feet. Just then someone came thundering down the stairs brandishing a wand and hissing - "Who's there?"

Mr. Weasley strode into view closely followed by Mrs. Weasley and sons Percy and Bill. There was a stunned silence as the Weasley's caught sight of Harry and Lupin.

"Good evening Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley." Lupin said, politely nodding to each of them. They just stared at him dumbfounded as he hauled Harry upright. "I'm sorry about the intrusion - perhaps Harry can give us all an explanation."

Harry was feeling very peculiar. He was dazed by all that he had seen tonight, but cold and stiff too. To sum it up in a word, he felt drained. He sauntered over to the chair he had knocked over, hoisted it upright and collapsed into it. He then buried his face in his hands.

Mrs. Weasley hurried forwards and put an arm over his shoulder. "What is it Harry, dear? What's wrong?"

"Harry does anyone at Hogwarts know you are here?" Lupin asked him anxiously. Harry looked up and shook his head. Lupin stepped towards the fire again before turning to Mr Weasley. "Arthur - I'm really sorry about this. Would you mind if I contact Dumbledore - if anyone realises he is missing..."

"They won't," Harry croaked hoarsely. "By all means get in touch with him, but they won't notice I'm missing because I'm only partly here."

A shocked silence met these words. Percy and Bill exchanged nonplussed glances.

"What do you mean?" Mr. Weasley asked him looking somewhat baffled. Harry did not much feel like talking right now. He rather wished he could find a secluded corner to curl up in and hide away. Therefore all he said in reply was, "Dumbledore can tell you... Ask Dumbledore, he'll tell you..."

Harry dropped his gaze to the floor and blinked furiously as tears prickled the corners of his eyes threateningly. Mrs. Weasley stood up and got herself a chair, which she placed next to his as Lupin threw a glistening powder into the flames, saying - "Sorry to bother you Albus - it's Remus. Do you think you could come to the Weasley's house? I have Harry here."

Harry began to tremble again. The image of his father swam into view. Mrs. Weasley hesitated, then put her arms right around him and hugged him close. This, however, was too much for Harry to bear. He could not hold back the silent tears any longer, no matter how tightly he scrunched up his eyes. As Mrs. Weasley held him to her, he saw the vision of his mother's tender, smiling face once more. Soundless tears splashed from his eyes and Harry could think of nothing except one thing; it should have been his mother that comforted him now when he was so frightened and confused.

He knew he was torturing himself, but Harry refused to let his mother's face falter and fade. He branded the memory into his mind as he realised; he had never seen her so clearly before - not even in a photograph. Harry felt he would be betraying her if he pushed the memory from his mind, even though the image was tearing him apart with grief.

Harry was distracted as a crackling noise announced the arrival of Dumbledore. Though Harry did not look up, he could imagine the bemused expression his headmaster would be wearing at this very moment.

"Good evening. Would someone care to explain what has happened?"

"We were rather hoping you could tell us, Albus," said Mr. Weasley almost apologetically.

Harry heard the sound of soft foot falls approaching.

"Spirit-traveling again, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him gently.

"Spirit-traveling?" repeated Bill looking confused, "What's spirit-traveling?"

Sighing patiently, Dumbledore launched into his explanation of soul-release for Lupin and the Weasleys, but Harry scarcely heard a word. His mother's face was still lodged in his mind and he noticed nothing else.

Harry suddenly became aware of a silence and realised Dumbledore had finished speaking. Reluctantly he opened his eyes and gazed up at Dumbledore. It took a moment for Harry to notice the strangeness of the scene - it looked as though he was part of some weird kind of pajama party as everyone - including Dumbledore - wore pajamas, night-shirts, dressing gowns or in Mrs Weasley's case a night dress. They were all looking expectantly at him and he knew they wanted him to explain why they were all there.

In a soft voice Dumbledore asked, "Can you tell us what happened, Harry?"

The stupid thing, Harry thought to himself crossly, was that nothing had happened. Well, except for realising he was spirit-traveling and seeing some memories that he had banished from his mind a long time ago, Harry had not seen, heard or done anything that warranted his worrying six other people. He felt both angry and ashamed at his weakness.

"Did you see Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked him with some urgency, ignoring the five other people who either flinched or winced at his words. Harry shook his head and stared at the floor.

"When you spoke to Remus you mentioned him - " Dumbledore began.

His face burning, in a low voice Harry replied, "I - I panicked. After what you said about every time I spirit-travel I see him, I just expected him to be there."

"Molly, you don't happen to have a glass fruit bowl I could borrow, do you?" Abruptly, Dumbledore changed the subject causing everyone besides himself to feel puzzled.

"Yes, yes I do," she replied, drying her eyes on the backs of her hands. She then strode over to the kitchen, which was merged with the dining room. When she came back she was carrying a large, cut glass fruit bowl containing an assortment of fruits, some of which you would definitely not find in a muggle supermarket.

"Would you mind if I removed the fruit?"

Mrs. Weasley began to empty the bowl of its contents in reply. When there was nothing left inside it Dumbledore placed it in the centre of the table and tapped it twice with his wand. Immediately a frosty liquid swirled in it. Dumbledore gave it a stir with his wand and instantly colours were whirling rapidly on the surface of the liquid. After a couple of seconds it began to settle and every person in the room stood watching, transfixed, as a picture formed.

It was a picture of Lupin's house in the quiet and peaceful hollow. Harry's blood ran cold as he saw what hovered in the air above the cottage; it was a projection of a colossal skull, composed of what looked like emerald stars, with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. The Dark Mark was etched in the sky directly above Lupin's home.

Lupin gasped and stepped backwards, away from the table looking stunned. Mrs. Weasley took a sharp intake of breath and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Looks like you were right to panic, Harry," Bill said in wonderment. Though no one said anything more, they were all thinking the same thing; that Harry had just saved Remus Lupin's life.

"Did you go anywhere before you met Remus, Harry?" Dumbledore was gazing at him with a quiet understanding shining in his eyes. Harry looked directly into those eyes but did not answer, instead he leant forward and stirred the liquid in the bowl with his wand.

The swirling colours reappeared, forming a picture of a ruined cottage bathed in moonlight. Harry looked away, unable to bear the emotions the image inspired.

"Your parent's house..." exclaimed Lupin quietly.

Harry prodded the contents of the bowl once more. This time, however, when the colours stopped revolving no picture appeared and the liquid reverted back to its frosty form.

"What is this stuff?" murmured Harry.

"[I]Vidçre sitûs[/I] - its function is to show what is happening at a selected location."

"So it... it doesn't show people?"

A look of understanding passed between them and Dumbledore shook his head only very slightly, explaining why the liquid had not shown a picture the second time Harry had disturbed it; Harry had wanted to see his parents.

Harry glared at the sparkling fluid, slightly unsure why he was doing so. He heard Mrs. Weasley give muffled sob but did not look at her. Then a still quiet ensnared the gathering. No one spoke for quite some time, nor looked at anyone else. In the end the silence was broken by Mr. Weasley, who said nervously, "Why is You-Know-Who after, Remus?"

Lupin and Dumbledore exchanged a glance full of meaning. Though what the meaning could be, Harry had no idea.

"Let's just put it this way," Lupin replied grimly, "I have something that he would be very keen to lay his hands on."

Percy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire meeting, now spoke up. "And what might that be, Mr. Lupin?"

Bill, Percy and Harry all stared openly at Lupin, each curious to learn what it was he had in his possession that the Dark Lord should want so much. While Mr. and Mrs. Weasley did not peer at Lupin expectantly as their children and Harry were doing, they were just as intrigued and interested. Lupin's eyes flicked back to Dumbledore's and Harry saw a look on Dumbledore's face that said quite plainly; do not tell them.

Instead, Dumbledore spoke loudly and pointedly, "It is very late and I think I ought to return Harry to Hogwarts now. Remus, I feel it would be for the best that you join us. It is probably not safe for you to go back to Godric's Hollow tonight - we will assess the situation properly in the morning. " Dumbledore paused then turned to the Weasley's, "I am very sorry to have disturbed you in such a manner."

"Not at all - we're glad to have been of assistance," replied Mr. Weasley earnestly as he put a comforting arm around his wife's shoulders.

"Thank you for your understanding, Arthur."

Lupin suddenly spoke again, "So how are we to return to Hogwarts then, Albus?"

Instead of making a verbal reply, Dumbledore pulled a drawstring bag out of a pocket in his dressing gown. He stepped over to the hearth and sprinkled a small amount of powder onto the roaring flames, causing them to leap upwards, over seven feet tall and blaze a brilliant green.

"Floo powder?" Lupin asked in some confusion, "but I didn't think we could use Floo powder to enter Hogwarts..."

"That is correct, Floo powder cannot be used to enter Hogwarts but it can be used to enter Hogsmeade, which is where we are going."

Lupin opened his mouth to protest but apparently could think of no adequate reply, so closed it again. Dumbledore held out the pouch to both Lupin and Harry who took a pinch of powder each.

"Goodbye and thank you again. I will be in touch shortly." With that Dumbledore stepped into the fire and said, "Hogsmeade Station" very clearly. Harry watched as Dumbledore disappeared from sight with a whooshing sound.

Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry into another tight embrace and whispered in his ear, "Don't fret now, dear. Everything will be alright - you'll see."

"You next then, Harry. I'd better make sure you get off alright," said Lupin mildly. Harry nodded before turning to Mr. Weasley, Bill and Percy.

"Bye then," he murmured softly.

"Goodbye Harry, it was nice to see you again," Mr. Weasley replied in an even quieter voice.

Percy and Bill made their farewells too amid much yawning and he threw his powder into the flames and stepped in muttering, "Hogsmeade Station."

The Weasley's dining room was seized from sight as Harry twirled faster and faster in the emerald green flames. He closed his eyes as the spinning images dazed him. After a considerably short time, Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, falling onto the cold stone of the Hogsmeade platform. Harry briefly wondered why there was a hearth situated on the station's platform but supposed it was for people who wanted to arrive at the station by Floo powder.

Dumbledore was just bending down to help a rather wind-swept Harry to his feet when a whooshing sound proclaimed Lupin's arrival.

"Brrrrr. It's chilly out here isn't it?" Lupin pronounced as he stepped out of the grate, pulling his dressing gown around him. Then he eyed Dumbledore suspiciously, "I hope you don't expect us to walk back up to the castle, quite apart from the fact that we're bound to freeze to death en route I don't much like the idea of walking through Hogsmeade in my night clothes!"

Dumbledore chuckled at him. "Have no fear my friend, we will not be heading back to the school on foot." As he said this he pointed his wand into the air and muttered some words Harry did not quite catch. They then made their way to the end of the platform where the gates leading to the village stood.

One of the horse-less carriages Harry had ridden in at the start of term was parked waiting patiently for them. Harry cast a sly look at Dumbledore, suspecting that when he had used his wand a moment ago it had been to summon the coach.

They all clambered into the carriage and set off. Harry rested his head against the paneling next to him and closed his eyes, trying hard not to think of anything. He was vaguely aware that Lupin and Dumbledore were holding a hushed conversation though what about he could not say.

The journey back to Hogwarts was a short one and before Harry realised it they had arrived, Lupin hopping nimbly down from their coach. His headmaster and former teacher accompanied Harry back to the hospital wing. Having returned to find himself lying in bed like this once before, it was less of a shock to see another version of himself.

Harry turned to Dumbledore and Lupin, bid them each good night, then without thinking touched the shoulder of his other self. Instantly Harry felt a tingling sensation as he dissolved into darkness.

*

"What has got into you today?" Ron asked Harry in a questioning voice. It was late Sunday afternoon and Harry and Ron were playing Exploding Snap, or at least Ron was. Harry was just plunking down his cards in a random, preoccupied manner.

"I left that one for a full minute and you still didn't notice!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. He then continued more seriously, "Is something troubling you?"

Harry turned his head in Ron's direction but did not look at him straight away. After a moment he said, "Hmmm? Did you say something?"

"Yes; I asked you if you were ok - you seem a bit vexed," Ron replied in mild exasperation bordering on concern.

"I'm fine," Harry spoke in a flat, expressionless voice.

Ron gave Harry an inquisitive look but refrained from making further comment. Instead he began reshuffling the cards.

Harry had not told Ron or Hermione about last night's adventure. He wanted to yet didn't want to at the same time. He wished for them to know, but could not bring himself to speak about his new-found memories. Harry had hardly slept at all last night. Quite apart from his night time wander, he had been haunted by the images of his parents vanishing in a flash of green light. When he had finally managed to drift into a fitful slumber he was plagued by nightmares instead.

Ron had just started to deal out the Exploding Snap deck again when Harry spoke up, "Ron - would you mind if we don't play another hand, I'm not really in the mood."

"Oh ok. Is there something else you want to do instead?"

Harry was just shaking his head mutely when Lupin strode into the ward. Ron stared at him open-mouthed. When he recovered himself he said, "Professor Lupin - what are you doing here?"

Lupin glanced curiously at Harry then turned back to Ron, "Hasn't Harry told you?"

Harry determinedly gazed at the ceiling so he could avoid seeing the confused and slightly annoyed expression on Ron's face.

"No - he hasn't told me anything," Ron finally replied, all the while fixing Harry with a suspicious glare. Lupin looked mildly surprised, then briefly filled Ron in on the events of the previous night. When he finished talking to Ron, Lupin turned to Harry.

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did. Dumbledore has arranged for me to go into hiding - starting this afternoon - but I wanted to see you again before I left as I may not be able to get in contact with you again for quite some time."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. He could not think of anything to say so simply remained quiet.

"Well - I'd better be off then. It was nice to see you both - give my regards to Hermione, won't you? It's a shame I missed her..."

"Have you tried the Library?" Ron suggested. "Well, she's usually in there so if you wanted to go see her..."

Lupin shook his head, "I've already tried in there, but there was no sign of her. Goodbye, then."

"Bye, " Ron returned warmly. Harry remained silent as Lupin began to walk uncertainly away. Ron frowned at Harry and nudged him hard in the ribs.

"What? Oh! Bye Remus."

The door swung shut and Ron was shooting annoyed glances at Harry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What?"

"Everything that happened last night, that's what!" Ron stormed with raised eyebrows.

"I forgot."

Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they disappeared from sight behind his fringe. "You forgot?" he replied weakly. "I really don't know what the matter with you is today."

Harry was saved from replying as Madam Pomfrey came bustling over. Immediately Harry began to pester her, "Can I please leave now? I ant to go back to Gryffindor tower - I can can't I?"

She raised her hands, gesturing for him to stop his tirade. "I have spoken to the headmaster and he is of the opinion that it would be better for you to return to your dormitory now."

Harry was just swinging his legs eagerly over the side of his bed when she continued. "Not so fast, Potter. You are to continue resting. If I hear of your doing too much then I will be forced to bring you back here, do you understand?"

Looking surly, Harry inclined his head. Madam Pomfrey then left Harry and Ron to their own devices as she went to see to a second year who had just arrived, accompanied by a crowd of chattering girls, wearing carrots in place of her ears.

Ron snickered at the interesting effect, then reverted back to looking serious. "You want me to help you pack up your stuff?"

"No need," Harry grunted. It was true - no sooner had Ron finished the question, Harry had finished cramming his bag with all his cards and possessions.

"You might want to change out of your pyjamas before heading back, though," Ron remarked wryly. Harry looked down at his blue paisley pyjamas and laughed. He had completely forgotten he was wearing them. "Good point!"

Ron pulled the screen of curtains around Harry's bed so that he could change without being gawped at by carrot ears and co. When Harry was in his robes they exited the ward in silence.

It was dinner time by the time the two boys had reached their common room, which was almost deserted. Harry was not looking forward to the idea of entering the Great Hall. Judging by his stack of cards and the amount of people who had attempted over the last couple of days, it was obvious that everyone knew he had been injured. Apparently most people had sussed out why, too.

"Shall we head down to dinner?" Ron asked him nervously as Harry dumped his bag by the foot of his bed.

"You go - I'm not hungry," Harry replied dully.

Ron looked at him apprehensively, "You have to eat, Harry."

At first Harry did not reply - he was too lost in thought. "I'm a bit tired. I think I'll just go to bed."

"You're still tired? But you've only been awake for a few hours!" Ron cried incredulously as Harry lowered himself onto his bed. Harry may have only woken up after lunch, but his night had been far from restful and so he did still feel drained.

"Well - if you're sure..." Ron said looking at him dubiously, "Do you mind if I go though, because I'm ravenous!"

This statement was confirmed by a loud rumbling growl from Ron's stomach. Harry merely shook his head and lay down on his bed, staring up at the curtained canopy as Ron left the room. Once Harry was sure Ron had completely gone, he sat up again and took his photograph album from his bedside table. It was the smart, leather-covered one Hagrid had made for him about six years ago. It contained many moving wizard-photographs of his parents.

Harry drew the hangings shut about him, crept into bed and started flicking through the album. Pausing at some pages and skimming past others, he peered hungrily into the faces of his mother and father.

It was not long until Harry noticed his eyelids beginning to droop, so he quite reluctantly snapped the book shut and slid it under his pillow, before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

*

The next morning Harry was late getting up - Ron practically had to drag him out of bed. Harry hurriedly dressed as they only had just over half an hour before lessons started and neither of them had eaten yet.

Harry and Ron tore down the spiral staircase, crossed the deserted common room and flung open the portrait hole. They then ran full speed - or almost full speed, as Harry's leg still hadn't fully recovered - all the way down to the sweeping marble staircase. When they descended the last flight of steps, they did so at a slower pace in order to get their breath back.

Both boys halted outside the doors of the Great Hall, apparently each of them was slightly nervous about what sort of reception they would receive when they were set foot in there. For a moment they just looked at each other.

"Ready?" Ron asked.

"As I'll ever be," Harry replied.

Taking simultaneous deep breaths, Ron pushed open the doors and they both walked in. Harry was under the impression that pretty much the whole school was there by looking at the sea of black pointed hats. As they entered, every head in the Great Hall swivelled in their direction and there was a sudden still silence. Then abruptly everyone began talking again at once and some people even stood up to get a good look at them.

Harry felt distinctly hot in the face and, with a glance at Ron, saw that Ron's ears had gone the same colour as his hair. They strode over to their house table and took seats next to and opposite Hermione, all the while pretending that they had not noticed the stir they'd caused.

"Morning," Hermione said crisply, as she took another slice of toast off the rack in front of her.

"Hermione - are you alright?" Ron peered at her looking slightly mystified by her brusque manner.

"Yes." She shook her head as though to clear it, then appeared to be brighter as she carried on, "I'm sorry - I've got a lot on my mind. How are you guys feeling?"

"Yeah - I'm ok," Ron replied. He and Hermione then both looked pointedly at Harry, waiting for him to respond. Harry, however, didn't appear to have heard any of the conversation. After he'd finished pouring cereal into a bowl he happened to glance up and saw that his friends were staring at him.

He blinked. "What?"

"I - I asked if you were alright," Hermione replied sounding hurt that Harry hadn't been hanging off her every word. Harry continued to stare at her blankly.

"HARRY?" Ron shouted louder than he intended. Quite a few people jumped and turned to look at them, but Harry nevertheless seemed to snap out of his reverie.

"Sorry!" he said smiling apologetically. "What was it you said Hermione?"

"Never mind." She sighed then turned back to spreading gloopy black stuff on her toast. Ron peered at her toast interestedly. "What is that?"

"You mean to tell me, you've never noticed marmite before, although it's always on the table and I have it most mornings?"

"Hey - what can I say? I don't normally take note on what you're eating."

She continued to glare at him suspiciously, "So what's different about today?"

Ron shrugged offhandedly. "So what's it like, that stuff?"

Harry grinned wickedly at Ron who didn't seem to notice. Hermione caught his eye and said, "Oh - it's really nice... A bit like treacle."

Harry stifled his laugh. He and Hermione knew Ron's tastes well enough to knew that he was going to hate the marmite and that telling him it was like treacle would be the only way of getting him to try some. Ron began spreading the sticky black substance onto a slice of toast, oblivious to Harry's sudden increase in concentration.

As soon as he bit into the bread, Ron's expression changed to one of horror and disgust as he spat the offending mouthful out.

"Lovely," Hermione remarked wrinkling her nose up and smiling at the same time, thereby producing a very peculiar look. Harry howled with laughter but shut up as Ron - reaching for his goblet of pumpkin juice - scowled at him.

"Yeah, very funny guys - you can quit laughing now Harry, it wasn't that funny. Hermione how can you even put that stuff near your mouth, let alone eat it? It's disgusting!"

Hermione giggled at him, but didn't get a chance to reply as Dumbledore had stood up.

"I'd like to have your attention for a few moments, please," Dumbledore called, addressing his students. "I have one or two announcements to make. The first Hogsmeade visit of the term is going to take place this Saturday, the 31st of October. May I remind those of you who have not been before, that you must hand your permission slips into your head of house before Friday afternoon.

"I also regret to inform you that we will not be holding our traditional Halloween feast this year."

Dumbledore looked as though he had something more to say, but was drowned out by a sudden out burst of protest from every table in the hall, except the staff table.

"What?" Ron bellowed furiously, glaring up at Dumbledore as Harry and Hermione exchanged blank looks across the table. Harry was just about to say he wondered why it would be cancelled when Dumbledore called for silence.

"Please calm down - I can see that you are all very disappointed, but I have another announcement to make that I hope will compensate for this decision. Now I have had many people requesting if we could hold another ball, since the last one we held was during the Triwizard tournament, nearly three years ago. After some discussion with your teachers, I therefore have great pleasure in announcing that we are to be having a Halloween Dance in place of this year's feast."

Once again, Dumbledore had to pause before continuing with his speech as a great tumult of cheering and excited chatter had broken out at his words.

Hermione looked much happier than Harry had seen her look since the incident with the book. She glanced at Harry with a dreamy sort of expression. "Oh that's wonderful! I can't wait until Saturday!" she exclaimed eagerly. Harry caught a glimpse of Ron's face and saw that he wasn't happy. He was determinedly looking away from Harry who shot Hermione an exasperated glance, nodding in Ron's direction. Hermione too glanced at Ron and groaned inwardly. "Sorry," she mouthed at Harry looking concerned. He shook his head to say it didn't matter just as Dumbledore began to speak again.

"I take it that this is an acceptable idea, then?" Dumbledore asked smiling slightly. Ron snorted quietly and Harry and Hermione exchanged worried looks. They had been getting along much better and might even have been able to put the clash of interests behind them, but this dance was far too soon for Ron to be able to accept. "The dance is going to take place at seven o'clock and will end at midnight. There will be a feast of sorts at the party, as there was at the Yule Ball and you may wear whatever you like. Now, I hope that you all enjoy the remainder of your breakfast. Thank you."

He sat down and there were many excited conversations about the forthcoming party sweeping across the hall. Harry, Ron and Hermione ate in silence. Or at least Hermione ate in silence - Harry and Ron had both lost their appetites. Balls and dances were not really Harry's cup of tea at the best of times, but he now particularly resented this one as it had already made Ron upset with him again. The other problem was that Harry could tell Hermione was really looking forward to it and would be hurt if he didn't dance with her. Feeling frustrated, Harry stopped pushing his cereal around his bowl with his spoon and got up, heading for Gryffindor tower where he had left his bag.

*

First lesson on a Monday was Transfiguration. Harry found Ron and Hermione waiting for him in the corridor outside Professor McGonagall's classroom. They had been talking quietly, but when they caught sight of Harry they stopped talking abruptly, though they need not have bothered, for Harry hardly noticed them at all. Gloom was setting in upon him again. He had just remembered that in their last Transfiguration lesson - or at least his last one - they had begun studying Apographonum, which was an immensely complex piece of magic. Their homework had been to make notes on a large quantity of pages and Harry had barely even done the first one. He wasn't worried that Professor McGonagall would tell him off, no -it was more the fact that he was going to be so ridiculously far behind everyone else that he'd never catch up.

"Come in class, and take your seats." Professor McGonagall's voice came echoing down the passageway. For a moment it looked as though Ron would be joining Dean and Seamus again, but then at a reproving look from Hermione, he came and sat down next to Harry.

"We will be continuing from where we left off last time. Miss Patil - the mice and beetles are in that cupboard over there, kindly fetch them out for me. Harry, I'd just like a quick word with you - the rest of you may begin," Professor McGonagall said briskly and strode over to the table Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat at. Ron and Hermione slid off their seats and made their way over to the box of mice and jar of beetles.

"I have spoken to Professor Dumbledore about you, Potter. Now I know you haven't done very much preparation - and that's not your fault," she added hastily as Harry opened his mouth angrily to protest, "but you must understand that this spell is a very important part of the course. It will be covered in the exams next May so I really must insist that you try your best to catch up as quickly as possible. I've got some sheaves of parchment that may be of assistance to you, here. I hope I'm not expecting too much, but I would like for you to start practising the spell by next Monday at the latest. Is that understood."

Harry nodded silently and she returned to her own desk. Harry took out his relevant books and began making the notes he should have done two weeks ago. Ron and Hermione returned both carrying a mouse and a beetle each.

"What did she say, Harry?" Ron asked when he had plonked himself back down again.

Feeling a little surprised that Ron was still talking to him, Harry replied, "Oh, nothing much - just told me that this is a big part of the course and that I need to catch up by next week."

"Ouch - there goes all your free time," Ron said sympathetically as he pulled a thick wad of parchment out of his bag and placed it in front of Harry. "That's all my notes on Apographonum from the last two weeks. And if you think that's a lot then you should see hers!"

Ron nodded his head in Hermione's direction. Normally she would have either scowled at him or made a snappy retort, but this time she didn't. Hermione was too busy trying to concentrate on transfiguring her beetle into a replica of her little black mouse. Ron and Harry didn't talk for a while either, they were both too busy trying to get through their own workloads.

By the end of the lesson many of the class had managed to make some difference to their beetles. Strangely enough it was Ron who had made the most significant change; his beetle was now about mouse-sized and had four legs instead of six. Harry had initially had his suspicions that Ron had pulled the absent two legs off, but when Professor McGonagall performed the counter-charm the beetle had reverted to its original state with all six of its legs intact.

Hermione was extremely irritable by the end of the lesson. She had done nothing more than give her beetle a lot of exercise as she chased it around the table with her wand. She was fuming that she - besides Harry and Neville - was the only person in the class unable to perform the spell at all. What did not help was Ron trying to give her suggestions on all the things she was doing wrong. As soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the lesson, she stormed off without a word. Harry and Ron followed at a distance but remained silent.

Harry decided his head felt as though his brain was too full - the notes he had been making had not made an awful lot of sense. He was quite looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures because the lesson would be held outside in the cool, fresh air and he would also not have to be doing anything too taxing.

Harry turned to Ron, struck by a sudden thought. "When I spirit-traveled the first time, Merula came with me. So what happened to Hermione - did she join you and Neville or something?"

"Yeah - Hermione joined us, which was a great help, believe me. The number of times Neville did something stupid and spooked Barraby..." Harry looked questioningly at Ron, thinking 'what's Barraby meant to mean?' "Barraby's the name of our horse. Well anyway, we all figured that Merula was probably still nearby, just invisible. And Professor Grubbly-Plank told us that he'd come back to his stall when he got hungry enough."

They pushed open the front doors to the castle and made their way across the lawn, down to Hagrid's hut. It was odd to see it looking so lonely and abandoned, with its curtains drawn. Harry gave a small shudder without really knowing why - it was just something about Hagrid's house being shut up like that, which made Harry feel uneasy; it was almost as though the silent house was a bad omen. Though an omen regarding what he could not tell.

Harry tore his eyes away from Hagrid's hut and checked his watch. "We've still got a few minutes until the lesson starts - shall we go see Fang? I wonder who's been feeding him while Hagrid's not here..."

"Dunno - Dumbledore maybe? Yeah - let's go see him, he'd probably be glad of some company."

When they reached the hut they could hear a frantic scrabbling behind the door. Harry tried the handle but it was locked, so he pulled his wand out of his pocket and tapped it, saying, "Alohomora."

Unsurprisingly, the lock clicked, enabling Harry and Ron to open the door. Before they quite knew what was happening, a black blur leapt out at them, bowling Harry over in its haste to get out. Fang was apparently desperate to relieve himself as he raised a leg and watered Hagrid's pumpkin patch.

"Eugh!" Ron said in disgust. "Remind me never to touch Hagrid's pumpkins if this is how they get watered."

The sight of the pumpkin's seemed to remind Ron of the forthcoming dance and he slipped back to being sulky after that. Harry stepped into Hagrid's cabin and opened the windows and drapes in an attempt to rid the room of its stale, dog-like smell. Someone was obviously feeding Fang - for there was still the remains of fresh food in a bowl - but they only seemed to be half-hearted about their care of the black boar-hound.

"Do you reckon Grubbly-Plank would mind if we brought Fang along? I think he'd appreciate not being shut up," Harry asked Ron, whilst looking pityingly at Fang who was bounding around like an energetic puppy again. Harry did not have the heart to shove him back into Hagrid's empty hut once more.

Ron shrugged. "Probably. Though I reckon we should just bring him, anyway. If she complains we'll just tell her that he needs to be let out - which is true so she can hardly argue with that."

Ron closed the front door. He and Harry then made their way over to the paddock where their classmates were already beginning to assemble. They found Hermione talking to Professor Grubbly-Plank about something and sauntered over. Professor Grubbly-Plank stopped talking at the sight of them and eyed Fang for a moment. "Ah - I see you've got that great hound of Hagrid's. I've been meaning to ask you if you'd look after him for me. I just don't have the time to give him all the attention he deserves."

"Oh - have you been taking care of him then?" Harry asked in surprise. "I hope you don't mind us bringing him to class - it's just that we thought he needed to get out for a bit."

"No - no, that's fine. So do you think you could take care of him, then? As I said, I -" she began but halted as Harry, thinking that Fang would probably be happier if it was them that went to visit him every day rather than her, nodded. "Wonderful! Right then, we had better get on with today's lesson."

The lesson primarily consisted of cleaning reinforced tack by hand. Many people complained loudly and protested, only serving to make Professor Grubbly-Plank lose her temper.

"I have already explained why you must clean everything by hand," she stormed after the fifth person in a row had asked her why they could not use magic. "Winged Horses are powerfully-magical creatures who need strong bridles and saddles that have been reinforced with a number of spells and charms.

"These charms, however, can be easily counteracted by the spells we normally use in cleaning, and rendered useless. Therefore it is essential that you do not use any magic whilst cleaning the tack. I cannot stress enough the importance of it - if you disable the charms on them it would be potentially extremely dangerous for you to ride your horse using this tack. Anyone caught using magic will be severely punished. Should anyone not finish cleaning their horse's equipment by the end of the lesson then they will come back and do it this evening in detention. Do I make myself clear?"

She glowered at them all, daring someone to defy her. No one did so she added, "I suggest you all get started - the clock is ticking."

There was a mad scramble of bodies as everyone hurried over to the stables to collect their tack. As Harry stood in the queue waiting to go in, he scrutinised the stables. They were different to the ones he had seen when he had returned with Merula. These were sturdier in appearance and looked as though they were going to be a more permanent feature of the grounds. Perhaps Dumbledore had decided it would a good idea to keep a herd of Winged Horses at Hogwarts permanently rather than having to borrow a herd every year.

Harry then entered the tack room - it was more of a cupboard than a room, really - and collected Merula's halter, bridle and saddle from off of the hooks labeled with his name. Hermione fetched the sponges, rags and bottles of cleaning fluid. They sat outside on the grass, which today was hard and cold but mercifully dry.

The lesson crawled by at a snail's pace. Harry and Hermione did not talk much - Harry on his part was once more caught up in reflection; seeing his parents faces painfully clearer in his head. This was why it took him a while to realise Hermione was addressing him.

"Harry? Harry?"

"What?"

"Didn't you hear me?" she asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

"No - did you say something?"

She smiled weakly at him. "I've only been trying to get your attention for the past five minutes."

He grinned rather sheepishly at her, noticing how concerned she looked. "Sorry - I've just got a lot on my mind at the moment, that's all."

"Such as?"

"Here - pass me those reins and we'll give you a hand," Harry said as he and Hermione sat down in between Ron and Neville.

"Oh, just go away," Ron snapped. "I can manage fine on my own, thanks."

Harry ignored him and reached for the reins anyway. He set to work on cleaning them and Ron made no further protest though did cast Hermione an angry look as she went to comfort Neville.

Harry had just finished Ron's reins when the end of lesson bell could be heard, ringing faintly across the grounds from the castle. It turned out that many groups had been unable to complete the task Professor Grubbly-Plank had set them and would be joining Ron and Neville in detention.

Harry hung back to help Ron stow Barraby's tack back in the storeroom. Hermione, however, had rushed off almost straight away with little more than a see you later and a backward glance before disappearing out of sight. It was only then that Harry suddenly realised Fang was no longer with them. He groaned and tapped Ron on the shoulder. Ron looked inquisitively up from picking his bag from off the floor.

"When was the last time you saw Fang?" Harry asked him apprehensively.

Ron looked at Harry blankly for a minute, then - "I haven't seen him since we came over here at the beginning of the lesson. Oh that darn dog! Why couldn't he just be grateful that we let him out, eh? Why'd he have to take it upon himself to go wandering off?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess we'd better go looking for him."

They set off, not too sure where they thought Fang would head now that he had suddenly found freedom. Harry suggested that they should skirt the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest first, but Ron stamped on this plan reminding Harry of how much of a coward Fang was.

"I mean, is he really likely to go off into the forest of his own choice when he knows what's in there?" Ron pointed out flatly.

"I suppose you're right," said Harry in a dejected voice. "Where do you reckon we should try, then?"

"I haven't the faintest idea where the stupid mutt will have taken himself off to. How about we just wander about, calling him?"

Harry could not think of better plan, so proceeded to ramble aimlessly around the grounds. After half an hour and still no sign of Fang, Harry decided that they should go back to Hagrid's hut and rattle a box of dog biscuits. This they did, but stopped dead at the gate before they'd even set foot on the path. There sprawled across the doorstep was Fang. He opened an eye sleepily at them and wagged his tail once.

"Oh great! That's just fantastic! We've wasted half our lunch break searching for you and you're here on the doorstep all the time!" Ron cried angrily to the dog, whose ears went back forlornly.

Harry bent down and patted Fang. "Well, at least you're safe and we haven't lost you. Imagine what Hagrid would say if he came back and found you were missing..."

"I think I'd rather not think about it, actually," said Ron, still sounding annoyed. "Oh, well. Shall we head back up to the castle for lunch, then?"

Harry coaxed Fang back into Hagrid's hut and shut the windows again. Having given the boar hound some fresh water, they walked slowly back across the grounds. Now that they had found Fang they no longer seemed to have anything to talk about. Harry struggled to think of something to say to break the tension, but failed.

Once inside the Great Hall, they made their way over to the Gryffindor table and sat down opposite Lavender and Pavarti. Hermione, however, was no where in sight. Harry scanned the whole table but she wasn't there. Instead he decided he would ask Lavender or Pavarti if either of them had seen her.

"Have you seen Hermione?"

Lavender burst into a fit of giggles, while Pavarti looked slightly miffed about something. Harry raised his eyebrows at this strange behaviour.

"No - she hasn't turned up for lunch yet. I just assumed she would have been with you," Pavarti replied with a trace of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh, thanks anyway." With that Harry began spooning carrots onto his plate.

*