Harry Potter & The Blade of Carmen-Eversor

Chapter Five

Hermione did not turn up at all during lunchtime. Harry and Ron even sneaked into the Library in the hope of finding her in there, but to no avail. The last lesson of the day was Divination and Harry really was not in the mood for Professor Trelawney and her dire predictions regarding him. So it was with heavy hearts that the two boys clambered the last flight of narrow winding stairs.

They arrived at the top of the spiral staircase, slightly out of breath. Besides the usual Gryffindor's whom they shared this lesson with, there was also some Ravenclaw students. Because so many people had dropped out of doing Divination, it had seemed pointless to have four groups all according to House. Instead, the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw classes had been merged, as had the Hufflepuff and Slytherin ones. Shortly after their arrival, the trap door in the ceiling opened and the rope ladder appeared.

As Harry emerged into the room beyond the trapdoor, he was not in the least bit surprised to find it bathed in dim crimson light and crammed full with oddly mismatched chairs. As always the room was stiflingly hot and had the strong sickly smell of too many different perfumes mixed into one. He found he had a job trying to keep from coughing as he inhaled a particularly strong gulp of the perfume, which clung heavily to the back of his throat.

Ron had already waded his way through the obstacle course of chintz chairs and fat little pouffes to a table adjacent to a window. Harry trailed him and plonked himself down opposite Ron with his back to Professor Trelawney, who stood obscured in the shadows at one end of the room.

"Good afternoon, dears," Professor Trelawney's misty voice floated softly across the room as she stepped forwards. "Today we will begin to study the I Ching, or Book of Changes, the Chinese form of Divination."

Harry was not sure whether or not he was glad they had finished with tarot cards. It had been much harder for Professor Trelawney to predict his death with as much certainty as usual, though she had been quick to inform him that he would be suffering a great deal of affliction during the month of October. While Harry was prepared to admit that October certainly had not been his favourite month this year, he remained unwilling to believe that Professor Trelawney had been right about her prediction.

Harry suddenly snapped out of his muse as he received a very sharp kick from Ron under the table. Professor Trelawney was stood at his shoulder, apparently highly offended that he had not listened to a word she had said since saying that she was going to introduce them to I Ching.

As I was saying, my dear, if you would be kind enough to get yourself a pack of sticks and a handbook..."

Harry did as he was told and Professor Trelawney continued her explanation on the Book of changes. As the class got started she glided over to where Lavender and Pavarti were seated, accompanied by two Ravenclaw girls Harry knew by sight but had never spoken to.

The class then spent the rest of the lesson, flicking through the bulky I Ching manual, trying to discern what the lines the sticks were making meant.

"Ron - what do you reckon this one is? I think I've narrowed it down to either of these two," Harry said sounding frustrated, pointing out two line formations in his handbook. Ron came around to Harry's side of the table, tilting his head from side to side as he peered at Harry's sticks.

"I dunno - it's a bit ambiguous... I reckon it looks more like the first one though."

"Allow me," Professor Trelawney swept over to their table giving Harry a sinking feeling in his stomach. A few people stopped what they were doing and came over to watch. "No, no - it's definitely this one," she insisted, pointing out a completely different picture to the ones Harry and Ron had been looking at.

Harry was not surprised when his teacher dropped the book in apparent horror at what the translation said. She then proceeded to inform him that this was another omen of his death, which she added was going to be very soon. Harry rolled his eyes at Ron who was sat and sniggering at him. Dean and Seamus both seemed to find the whole thing amusing too, though many of the girls - especially the Ravenclaw ones who had not heard Professor Trelawney predict Harry's death for the past five years - looked frightened or horrified.

Then something happened that Harry had not expected; Professor Trelawney sank to the floor in a dead faint.

Ron immediately shut up and joined Harry who had leapt from his seat and was kneeling beside their Professor. Professor Trelawney's eyes were only half closed and were rolled up into her head, showing only the whites. Several people screamed and Harry sprang up, just about to run and fetch help when a harsh voice spoke most unlike Professor Trelawney's usual airy-fairy one. The voice made Harry halt, frozen to the spot. It was the same voice she had used when she had predicted that Wormtail would return to Voldemort and that Voldemort would more powerful and terrible than ever.

"The Dark Lord is angry. He sends his followers in search of his kin while he seeks vengeance on the boy who lived. Beware - the anniversary of death will be renewed. Death will prevail, yet the boy who lived will live again. The butterfly of Freedom will come calling. And when sweet freedom whispers in the ear of the boy who lived, he must set the butterfly free."

The last words echoed dismally into the surrounding silence, and Professor Trelawney spoke no more. Her eyes rolled back down before the lids drooped closed. Harry stood rigid with shock, goggling at the limp form of his teacher sprawled at his feet. No one said a word and Harry was oblivious to the fact that every pair of eyes in the classroom was fixed on him, staring in disbelief for they of course all knew that he was the boy who lived.

As the initial shock waves subsided, Harry began to feel abhorrence at what he had just heard. He shuddered at the thought that Voldemort was seeking revenge on him. Of course he knew that Voldemort had been out for revenge against him since he had been just a year old, but he had never been told in such a manner as he had just a few minutes ago. He heard the words 'Death will prevail' resound within his brain and wondered who it was that would die... Could it be him? But then the voice or Professor Trelawney -whoever it was - had said that the boy who lived would live again. Surely that didn't mean what he thought it meant. How could it? How could it mean that he would die but live on? That was impossible...

Then Harry remembered the part about the anniversary of death being renewed. He pondered on whose death the anniversary was of and how it could be renewed. The prediction had not made sense; each statement seemed to be contradicted by the next. Harry did not even pretend he had understood all the talk about a butterfly. He hardly spared the butterfly part a second thought - he was too preoccupied with worrying about the comments on death.

And still Professor Trelawney lay spread out on the floor. Harry, who had been looking at her the whole time without truly seeing her, suddenly seemed to see her clearly for the first time since her seizure had started and he knelt down by her side once more, pushing all thoughts of the intimation aside.

Harry checked for a pulse and breathed a huge sigh of relief upon finding one. He then leant over Professor Trelawney and put his ear close to her nose and mouth. Thankfully she was breathing still, though shallowly. Because she had become so limp and lifeless Harry had become anxious in case she had died.

Ignoring everyone around him who were apparently all paralysed with shock, Harry hoisted himself up again and pointed his wand directly at Professor Trelawney's heart muttering "Enervate" as he did so.

Her eyelids flickered and she let out a soft moan. Putting a hand up to her forehead, she sat up gingerly and blinked blearily at her surroundings.

"Gracious me! I do have a headache," she exclaimed rather groggily, then continued as she caught sight of a dozen pale faces peering at her in concern. "Why do you all stare at me? Is something amiss?"

Harry, who in actual fact had more reason than anyone to lose his head with fear, seemed to be the only person out of his classmates who had managed to keep his cool. He held out a hand to help his Divination teacher up from off the floor and steered her into a nearby chintz armchair.

"I think you really ought to go down to the hospital wing, Professor. Can you manage the walk?" he enquired of her in a low and soothing voice.

"Dear me, whatever can have happened? I feel very faint all of a sudden... Err - yes my dear boy, I think that perhaps you are right. I believe I can cope with walking," she said as she got shakily to her feet. Just by looking at her, Harry could tell that she would never make the long trek into the main school without support.

"Here - let me help you," he murmured gently and extended an arm for her as she swayed dangerously. She gratefully took hold of the extended arm while the rest of her class still all remained exactly as they were, struck dumb and looking remarkably as though they had all been petrified. Not one of them so much as blinked. The only indication that they were all still alive and well, despite their breathing - obviously, was their eyes, which followed the progress the two people made expressionlessly.

Harry had been puzzling over how she was going to get down the rope ladder, for he had not expected her to be able to climb down it in her current state, but Professor Trelawney surprised him, however, by getting to the passageway below the trapdoor with evident ease.

For the most part of their journey to the fourth floor, upon which the hospital wing was situated, Harry had to assist her. They were also forced to stop several times en route as Professor Trelawney had found herself too weak and shaky to continue.

Madam Pomfrey did the smallest of double takes at seeing Professor Trelawney - Harry surmised that it was perhaps because Professor Trelawney rarely left her quarters at the top of the North tower. Even so, Madam Pomfrey recollected herself almost instantly and hastened to show the Professor to a bed whilst asking Harry to inform her on what had happened. Harry told her in no great depth that Professor Trelawney had suffered some sort of fit or seizure immediately before making a prophecy, though he failed to mention any of what the prophecy had involved. Madam Pomfrey cast him a curious glance, but as she did not press him to elaborate further, he didn't.

"Do you think I should go and alert Dumbledore of what has transpired?" Harry asked after he had concluded his explanation of events.

"No need," came a placid voice from somewhere in the vicinity of the ward's entrance. Professor Dumbledore swept into the ward and glanced at the unexpected patient who had clearly fainted again. This time it seemed to be merely because of fatigue for she made no further predictions.

Harry stared at Dumbledore with one eyebrow arched questioningly, before enquiring "Professor - how did you know she was here?"

"Let's just say I bumped into Mr. Weasley and he informed me. Could I have a word with you, Harry?" Dumbledore returned with a slight smile lingering on his lips.

Harry nodded apprehensively. He was once more tense because he knew he was going to have to contemplate the unwelcome augury again - which was not something he was looking forward to doing.

"Perhaps it would be best if we went along to my office. I will be returning shortly, Poppy." He then led the way out of the ward, Harry trailing along in his wake.

They strolled along briskly in silence until they reached the stone gargoyle who guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's private quarters. Dumbledore then spoke two words to it very firmly and clearly, "Fizzing Whizzbee."

The gargoyle suddenly leapt into animation, revealing the opening that led to the moving staircase.

At a gesture from Dumbledore, Harry stepped forwards and through the door. Still neither of them spoke to one another. Then Harry, closely followed by the headmaster, hopped off the stairs and nudged open the door in order to enter Dumbledore's study.

This was possibly - or perhaps probably - Harry's favourite room within the whole of Hogwarts. It was a beautifully proportioned, circular room filled to bursting with such gadgets and curiosities that fascinated Harry profoundly. Dumbledore walked around to the chair behind his desk and sat down, fixing Harry with his penetrating gaze as Harry surveyed Dumbledore's study with great interest.

The frames containing the portraits of the previous headmasters of Hogwarts were all alike; their subjects snoozing gently in the late afternoon glow that flooded through the windows. Fawkes the phoenix was perched in his usual haunt near the door and Harry strode over to greet him, "Hello Fawkes."

"Harry?"

Harry whirled around to face Dumbledore, who was sat looking at him still, with his chin resting upon the knuckles of his interlocking fingers.

"I hear Sybil made an engaging prediction this afternoon. Would you care to tell me about it?"

If Harry was brutally honest then he would have said that actually he did mind going over it, but deciding that to do that would be too rude, he instead nodded resignedly and plonked himself down in the chair opposite Dumbledore.

Harry took a moment to compose himself and decided to commence by telling Dumbledore about what his I Ching sticks had said. He moved on to discuss Professor Trelawney collapsing and finally, somewhat reluctantly, told Dumbledore exactly what Professor Trelawney - or what the voice that had spoken through Professor Trelawney - had said.

Somehow, despite the fact that he had only heard the prophecy once, Harry found himself able to recite it word for word. This unnerved him to a certain extent, though he could not quite put his finger on why it should do so.

When Harry finished, Dumbledore was again surveying him thoughtfully. Though he thought he probably knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, Harry went ahead and asked it anyway.

"Do you think... Was Professor Trelawney making another real prediction?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily as he answered, "Yes Harry, unfortunately I do. Which means her total of real predictions is now up to three..."

It took a moment for Harry to properly register what Dumbledore had said. "Hang on a minute - did you say three? If this is her third, was the one she made regarding Wormtail returning to Voldemort the second?"

Harry watched Dumbledore as he quietly nodded in assent.

"So - what was her first?"

Dumbledore paused for so long after this question that Harry was afraid he wasn't going to answer. Though Dumbledore did give him a response it was not quite the one he had been hoping for.

"Alas that is a another question I cannot give you the answer to. You do have a knack, Harry, for asking questions I cannot reply to... I know you hate to hear this when so many things you yearn to know I do not tell you, but rest assured that someday you will know. When the time is right."

The smallest of scowls wrinkled Harry's brow at Dumbledore's words but soon vanished again as Harry asked the next question that was nagging at him.

"What does it all mean? The third prediction, I mean."

Harry saw a grave sadness in Dumbledore's eyes, which were unwittingly devoid of their usual sparkle. Suddenly, Harry realised that he would rather not know what it all meant after all. Dumbledore appeared to have sensed Harry's abrupt change of heart because he did not answer the question in a straight forward manner.

"The terrible thing about predicting the future is that it disrupts the natural order of events. Now you know for certain that hardship lies ahead of your path, you will worry about it in advance. Had you been left in blissful ignorance until the situation arose at its prescribed time, you would have been saved from the period of waiting you must now endure. The time of waiting is perhaps worse then the event itself... Harry, as hard as it seems what I want for you to do is to forget about this prediction entirely. Push all knowledge of it from your mind. Do not dwell on what you have heard today - let fate steer you through its intended course and you shall be happier for it."

Forget about Professor Trelawney's Prediction? Harry thought that Dumbledore was expecting him to perform a miracle. How could he possibly forget about something such as this?

"But Professor - all the references to Freedom's butterfly - what do they mean?"

Dumbledore's lined face became creased further by a frown that spread across it. "To be honest with you, Harry. I don't know. Everything will fall into place when the time is right, that is usually the way of the world. You'll see."

After a brief pause, Harry soon became aware that Dumbledore had gained all the information he needed from him and so consequently, Harry could see that he had learned all he was going to from Dumbledore at present, which right now did not feel like very much at all.

Harry got to his feet and Dumbledore followed suit.

"Well, goodbye then," Harry said a little awkwardly.

"Goodbye Harry."

And without a backward glance, Harry turned around and marched straight from Dumbledore's office. He veered off to the left once he had passed the stone gargoyle and headed in the general direction of Gryffindor tower.

When he reached the portrait hole he halted, not sure if he really wanted to enter the common room to be goggled at by all those who had witnessed Professor Trelawney's latest prediction. He checked his watch and instantly realised that it was actually dinner time. Doubling back, he retraced his steps as he made his way pensively towards the Great Hall, unaware that the Fat Lady was shooting him looks of askance.

*

Harry pushed open the doors to the Great Hall without really thinking. The immediate hush that befell was sufficient enough to make him wish he had skipped dinner. Surely Professor Trelawney's prediction couldn't have spread around the entire school that quickly? The fact that every face in the hall was pointed in Harry's direction told him that somehow it had. The expressions on all the faces were frightened and anxious, all except those of the Slytherins, which were gleeful.

Harry was beginning to become accustomed to creating a stir every time he walked into a room, but that didn't mean he liked it. In fact he loathed it. He would have done anything just then to become someone else; someone else who was unknown and unnoticed. At the moment blissful obscurity was what he most longed for but he knew he was not going to get it, so he was forced to just grit his teeth and get on with it.

The walk to the Gryffindor table seemed much longer than usual, and it was with a very red face that Harry sank into a seat opposite Ron. Ron was looking at Harry as though scared of him, which did not serve to improve Harry's mood.

It took quite a while for the tension that had filled the room at Harry's arrival to break. Harry ate almost in silence - no one seemed to want to talk to him. He thought bitterly that it was probably because they didn't know what to say.

Harry has almost finished his steak and kidney pie when he finally noticed that Hermione was not around. He gazed up and down the entire length of the Gryffindor table but she was definitely not there.

"Ron - have you seen Hermione?" Harry asked anxiously.

Ron looked up at Harry and swiftly snapped out of his unsure behaviour. He glanced up and down the Gryffindor table as Harry had done, then spoke in a worried voice, "The last time I saw her today was Care of - "

But Harry didn't wait for his friend to finish. He sprang to his feet and darted out into the Entrance Hall. He raced up the marble staircase, taking two steps at a time and hurtled all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady stared at him in astonishment as he skidded to a halt in front of her frame and spluttered, "L-lingua serpens."

The portrait hole swung open and Harry clambered inside in a blind panic. The previous time Hermione had disappeared was because she had unwittingly taken a portkey planted in her dormitory, so Harry was going to check her room to find out whether the same thing had happened again. He had finally worked out where he had seen the black leather-bound book Hermione had flung aside in horror before; it was the portkey that had taken them both (at separate times) to Siramad's castle.

Harry was just about to launch himself up the staircase that led to the girl's dormitories when he crashed head-on into someone who had just come down them. He and the other person stumbled over onto the floor - it was Hermione.

Harry felt he could have cried with relief at the sight of her just then but instead flung his arms around her and drew her into a fierce embrace.

Several minutes slipped by before he released her from his grasp to find her looking both pleased and bewildered.

"Um - hi Harry. I'm glad to see you too, but do you think you could get off me now, so I can get up? It's just that my arms gone a bit numb..."

Obligingly, Harry scrambled backwards and stood up, helping Hermione to her feet also. She began rubbing her left arm in an attempt to regain the feeling in her fingers whilst fixing Harry with a politely curious expression.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

"I'm just so glad to see you. Where have you been? You've missed both lunch and dinner - I was beginning to think that you were..." but he shook his head to dispel the unpleasant thought.

Hermione seemed to have understood what he had been feeling as she stepped forwards and put her arms tenderly around his neck. She then whispered softly in his ear, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

Harry put his arms around her and just held her close. It was somehow calming him to simply stand there quietly, aware of nothing but her. He breathed in deeply, relishing her flowery fragrance.

"Fancy going for a walk?" Harry whispered quietly.

She drew back from him in order to see his face, then nodded.

"I was thinking we could go outside there'll be less people out at this time and I wanted to talk to you without being disturbed - is that ok?"

Hermione appeared to blush slightly as she said, "That's fine with me but I think we probably ought to take your Cloak."

Harry was left in no doubt about the fact that she was referring to his Invisibility Cloak. Feeling somewhat surprised he raised his eyebrows at her, causing her to redden further.

"I was just thinking that - well, we don't know what time we're going to be getting back so, erm... We won't want points deducted because someone sees us..." she muttered avoiding his eye.

When she did again look up at him he gave her a wicked grin and said teasingly, "Oh yeah? Just about losing House points, eh? Well, we can't have our Head Girl getting caught setting a bad example now can we?"

He leant forward and gave her a playful kiss on her nose. "Wait here and I'll go fetch it."

Harry took off up the spiral staircase and dashed over to his trunk where he usually stowed the Invisibility Cloak. As he was rummaging around a glinting light caught his eye. It was the knife.

Harry had hardly spared Carmen-Eversor another thought since his interview with Dumbledore and Sirius in the hospital wing. He reached in and pulled it out of his trunk prudently, turning it over and over in his hands. Instinct told him that it would be a sound plan to take the dagger with him. The only problem was, he had no sheath for it and he was not eager to repeat the experience of being cut by it. Once had definitely been enough.

Carefully, Harry slid the knife (blade first) into his robe pocket, making a mental note to himself to warn Hermione that it was there.

With the dagger safely stashed away, Harry resumed hunting in his trunk for the Cloak. He located it lurking at the bottom, covered by old robes that no longer fitted him but he had not yet got around to disposing of.

Thinking that it would probably be reasonably cold out in the grounds, what with it being the end of October and everything, Harry tugged his winter cloak off the peg it was hung on and headed for the stairs again.

Harry found Hermione still standing in the common room where he had left her, but realized that she must have crept back to her dormitory while he had been gone as she now had her outdoor cloak slung over one arm.

Heaving his winter cloak on, Harry crossed the common room to stand by her side. Once she too had slipped into her outdoor cloak he threw the Invisibility Cloak over them both. Before going anywhere they made sure that they were completely covered - the last thing they needed was for one of their feet to be spotted strolling along on its own, and cause a panic.

"I've got to feed Fang seeing as Professor Grubbly-Plank has transferred him into my care, so is it alright if we go down to Hagrid's first?" Harry muttered in a low voice to her as they pushed open the portrait hole and began walking down the corridor.

"Yeah, that's fine - we need to feed Merula as well though," she replied equally quietly. "Do you reckon we should go and see to him before Fang or after?"

"Well, I doubt if it'll make much difference where we go first so I'll let you choose."

She giggled at him, "Ooh, you're quite the gentleman aren't you?"

Harry didn't reply. He just smiled at her (though obviously she could not see him do so) and put an arm over her shoulders. Hermione leant into him slightly as they walked and neither of them spoke again for a while. The silence was a pleasant one, which made a welcome change to all the tense ones Harry had been experiencing of late.

The interesting part of the journey came when they reached the Entrance Hall. By the time they had descended seven floors at a cautious pace, dinner had ended and students were beginning to file out of the Great Hall. This forced Harry and Hermione to slink along even more slowly with their backs close to the wall. Although the Entrance Hall was quite wide, unlike the corridors and passageways they had gone through to get there, there were a lot of students entering it so they kept to the walls as a precaution - if possible they wanted to avoid being bumped into or stepped on.

The other problem such a thronging crowd produced was that it was now impossible for either Harry or Hermione to open the castle's front doors without arousing suspicion.

Luckily, help was at hand almost at once. Neville and Ron - one looking apprehensive the other extremely annoyed - appeared, shortly followed by various other members of their Care of Magical Creatures class, clearly all on their way down to detention with Professor Grubbly-Plank who chivvied along the stragglers of the group. Fortunately there was a large enough gap between the first lot of people and the second for Harry and Hermione to slink out of the doors unnoticed.

The pair of them hastily went down the steps situated at the front of the castle and headed for Hagrid's hut. They had reached an unspoken agreement that this was the best place to head for at the moment, seeing as there was going to be a whole troop of people milling around in the stables.

Hadgrid's gate creaked noisily on its hinges, alerting Fang of their presence. Hermione hastily performed the 'Alohomora' charm to unlock Hagrid's front door whilst Fang emitted several loud and booming barks.

When they entered Hermione flung off the Cloak and shut the door as Fang proceeded to slobber happily all over Harry's robes, much to Harry's disgust. Hermione then pointed her wand at the surrounding torch brackets and muttered 'Incendio' to each one. When she had finished illuminating the house she turned back to Harry, "Have you any idea where Hagrid keeps Fang's food?"

"Nope - but there aren't all that many places he can have put it, let's just have a poke around."

As they began opening cupboards and drawers, Harry was struck by a sudden thought. "So are you going to tell me then?"

Hermione closed the door of the cupboard she had been looking in and straightened up with a confused expression on her face. "Tell you what?"

"What it was that Siramad's book said to make you react the way you did. That was the book that Siramad turned into a portkey, wasn't it?"

For a split second Hermione appeared bewildered but almost immediately a peculiar expression spread across her face. It was very closed - as though all of its meaning had been masked. Then, almost a minute later she looked up again and fixed Harry with a piercing glare before answering in what sounded decidedly like a terrified whisper, "I can't."

Harry scowled at her crossly. "Can't, or won't?" She gave him a pleading look but he ignored it and continued, "If you can't tell me, then why was it that you were able to tell Dumbledore?"

"I had to tell someone," she whispered sadly.

"But why couldn't you have told me, eh? Since when did you become so reserved? I was of the opinion that we could talk to each other openly."

"Don't try and pretend that you're completely open with me, Harry!" Hermione shouted furiously at him. "That's one of the things I really hate about you - you keep everything bottled up because you think you can cope with it on your own. Well, you shouldn't have to handle it alone - but you just have to play the hero. Well, I've got news for you Harry, sometimes its braver to talk about something than to lock it away, but then we all know how much you like to feel that you're being brave."

Hermione stopped abruptly, chest heaving with emotion but evidently wishing she had not said the last sentence. Harry just stood open-mouthed and motionless in shock. He was indescribably resentful of what she had just said as he thought, so this is what she really thinks of me. Somewhere beneath the anger and shock though, he felt hurt. Not merely by what she had said but because he knew most of it was more or less true.

He did have a tendency to keep things to himself, but then had he not brought Hermione out here for the principal purpose of talking to her properly, about all that had happened lately? Suddenly aware that his mouth was still hanging open, Harry closed it and turned back to the task of finding Fang's food. Hermione gave a little sigh and tentatively approached him.

"I'm really sorry - I shouldn't have said those things. I was just annoyed about you saying that I'm closed and I snapped back without thinking about what I was saying - can you forgive me?" she said quietly. Harry got the impression that she was gazing anxiously at him but as he did not turn to look at her he could not be sure. He made no response to her apology but merely carried on with searching Hagrid's cupboards for anything he could feed to Fang.

Having ascertained that the cupboard he was looking in was devoid of what he sought, Harry moved onto the next one. Instead of opening it, however, he stood up. It had suddenly dawned on him that he was doing exactly what Hermione had accused him of and he decided to stop being sulky and childish.

Harry turned to face Hermione and proclaimed softly, "Of course I forgive you! Do you forgive me too?"

Relieved, Hermione darted forwards and hugged him as her answer. "Shall we get back to finding a meal for Fang?"

Fang's ears pricked up at the mention of his name and he tilted his head on one side, looking at Hermione expectantly.

"I think Fang's just given you your reply," said Harry smiling at the daft boar-hound. He then bent down again and opened the cupboard in front of him. Fang trotted forward and sniffed eagerly over Harry's shoulder, surely meaning that this was where Hagrid stored his food.

"EUGH!" Harry shouted and clapped a hand to his neck. Hermione came over to him, concern etched all over her face. Seeing her looking worried, Harry said, "Don't worry, I'm fine - Fang just decided to drool down my neck that's all."

Harry glared at Fang and wrinkled his nose as a long thread of saliva dangled from the dog's mouth. Hermione laughed and Fang sprang forwards, poking his head right inside the cupboard. When he next emerged, his jaw was clamped tightly around a sack that Harry could only presume contained his food. As the dog heaved the sack out of the cupboard a great wad of colourful papers fell to the floor.

Upon closer inspection, the paper turned out to be many wizard photographs. The picture on top was of Harry, Ron and Hermione out in the snow by Hagrid's cabin. The photograph had been taken last Christmas. Intrigued, Harry began to riffle through the rest with Hermione who had just sat down at his side. There were many photographs of Harry's friends, but the further down the pile they went the older the pictures became. Harry got a shock as they reached a number portraying his parents. Hermione put her head on his shoulder in a comforting and sympathetic fashion until they came to an old, faded black-and-white photograph somewhere near the bottom. She gasped at the subject, a man with his arm around a woman who was holding a baby. The three of them had jet-black hair and bore great resemblance to Harry.

Harry turned to face her, surprised at her surprise. Why should she recognize these people? He didn't and they were obviously his relations. "Hermione - what is it? Who are these people and how do you know them?"

She appeared to be about to say that she couldn't tell him, but at one ferocious glance from Harry she said instead, "I - Oh, very well. I've seen another copy of this photograph somewhere else so I was just a bit taken aback at seeing it here. They are your great-great-grandparents and the baby is your great-grandfather."

"But how do you know?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I told you I've seen that photograph before and -" she began to reply impatiently but caught sight of Harry who was giving her a shrewd and suspicious look, so trailed of biting her lip instead.

"Where did you see that picture?" Harry inquired, though he had already worked out the answer.

Hermione could tell by the look he fixed her with that he knew so decided she might as well confirm his supposition. "There is a copy of this photograph in the book Siramad turned into a portkey."

To start with Harry was simply speechless. When he had recovered the use of his vocal cords, he glowered as he asked Hermione, "What is the book about? Me?"

"Not exactly - though you are involved..." she lapsed into thoughtful silence.

Harry continued to stare at Hermione crossly but when she showed no sign of continuing, he snapped at her impatiently, "If I am involved then I want to know in what way - you have to tell me."

"I don't have to tell you anything! Dumbledore told me that I wasn't to tell you until I knew the time was right and the time definitely isn't right," she stormed. Seeing Harry was about to protest she stood up and said flatly, "Listen Harry, you are just going to have to trust me on this one. If you so much as even mention the book gain then I'll go straight back up to the castle on my own, ok?"

Harry was glaring at her in disbelief - outraged that the book related to him in some way and she was refusing to tell him how. Hermione suddenly started to laugh. Harry looked at her in astonishment then followed her gaze. Behind him, Fang had just blissfully munched his way through more than half of the sack's contents without either of them noticing.

Hermione went over to him and extracted the sack from his teeth and proceeded to put it back in the cupboard. She then scooped up the bundle of photographs and shoved them back into the cupboard as well.

Noticing that Harry was still fuming, she made a stab at easing the tension. "You said you wanted to talk to me - what did you want to say?"

Harry shot her one last infuriated glance before sighing. He realized that he would have to let the whole issue over the book go, at least for the moment. What he most wanted right now was to just spend some time with her, as they had been alone for next to no tine since returning from Siramad's castle the first time. And if he were to press the matter of the book then she would stalk off in a huff.

"There's some other stuff that's happened since the whole spirit-travelling to Siramad's castle thing that I think you should know about. Where have you been all day, anyway?"

Perhaps in gratitude for Harry's discontinuing to badger her for information about the book, Hermione gave Harry a straight answer. Though she did look as though she would have preferred not to have told him. "I've been to see Professor McGonagall about arranging to have some extra sessions on the Apographonum. It's typical isn't it - of all the things I can do, one of the most important things I need to be able to do I can't!"

Putting her slight reluctance in telling him down to the fact that she hated admitting that she was rubbish at something for a change, Harry replied sympathetically, "Well, there had to be one thing you didn't understand straight away - I wouldn't worry about it, you'll pick it up in no time. Especially if you are having extra practice in doing it."

She gave him a meek smile then said, "Shall we take Fang for a walk or just let him out in the garden?"

"Probably just let him out in Hagrid's back yard. Well, he's already been out for a bit today while we had Care of Magical Creatures. We had probably better not risk getting seen wandering around this late, else we'll have to go in as soon as we've put Fang back," Harry returned thoughtfully.

"What about the Invisibility Cloak?" Hermione suggested.

Harry was puzzled, "What about it?"

"We could take Fang for a walk whilst wearing it."

"Yeah - and what about when someone sees Fang skulking around apparently alone? No, it'll be best just to let him out in the pumpkin patch." Harry opened the back door as he spoke and Fang bounded out gleefully. Once the great black dog had come charging back in again, Harry slipped the Cloak back over them both and they left, heading for the stables.

It was by now quite dark outside. The sun had completely set hours ago, yet the sky had not attained full darkness because of a crisp full moon. Harry felt for Hermione's hand as they crossed the lawns, skirting along the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest.

It turned out that many of the pupils who had detention still had not completed the cleaning of their horse's tack. Many huddled pairs were sat along the length of the corridor between the stalls, all looking mutinous. Deciding that it would be safer to wait another half-hour or so, when there would be less chance of tripping over anyone, Harry and Hermione doubled back wondering where best to hang out until the stables were empty.

The lake seemed to be the most obvious choice. Harry vividly remembered a number of occasions when he had paced around the lake, accompanied by Ron and Hermione, discussing matters of varying degrees of importance.

When they reached their destination, they strolled around the unfathomable waters until they came to the shore furthest away from the castle. As it happened, there were a few bushes that provided some cover for the two of them.

"Do you think we can risk taking the Cloak off? I mean we're obscured from the view of the castle and how likely is it that anyone will come wandering over here now?" Harry said imploringly. "It's just that the Cloak is a bit smothering."

"Oh go on then - I suppose you're right. There isn't anyone who's going to see us so long as we stay here."

Immediately, Harry reappeared as he hauled the Cloak off. Hermione followed suit and they selected a patch of ground to sit upon. Harry had a couple of topics he wanted to deliberate with her but was doubtful as to which one he should raise first. After some careful consideration, he opted for the one concerning Professor Lupin.

"Have you had a chance to speak to Ron at all?" Harry began. "Has he told you about Saturday night's little escapade?"

Hermione's mien appeared blank, evidently meaning that Ron had not even mentioned to her that there had been an 'escapade' let alone what it had entailed.

"Ok, well I spirit-travelled again sometime in the middle of Saturday night. I found myself walking along this dusty road that led to a hollow; Godric's Hollow." One glimpse of her face was enough to tell Harry that Hermione was aware that his first home had been in Godric's Hollow. He went on to tell her about seeing the ruins of his parents' former home and about the memories that had come flooding back to him; memories that he had not known he had.

"But there's something I don't understand. All the memories I saw happened before I was a year old, so how was it that I could remember them?" Harry asked quizzically.

All the while he had been describing what he had seen, Hermione had not uttered a sound. Instead she had listened intently. When he asked her the question she took one of his hands in hers and replied softly, "I'm not entirely sure - but I think it is because of your magic that you can remember things earlier than Muggles can. Your mind is more enhanced."

During his speech, Harry had chosen to speak in a low voice to the grass, unable to face Hermione. As she spoke to him, he turned and gazed squarely into her eyes. At the moment they shone brightly, reflecting the thousands of winking stars in the heavens, but also radiating a poignant love for him. Just by peering into the depths of those eyes Harry felt his heart stir and wondered how he could have been so stupid as to have not notice her properly until now in all of his six and a bit years of knowing her.

Harry continued to tell Hermione about his trip to Lupin's house. When he had finished Hermione asked him pensively, "I wonder where Sirius will go - I mean if Lupin's gone into hiding then he can't stay in Godric's Hollow, can he?"

"Dunno - maybe he'll stay around here!" Harry cried eagerly.

Hermione looked apprehensive. "But is it really a good idea for him to be so close to Hogsmeade? I mean the Ministry is still looking for him and, well..." she did not seem to want to finish her sentence.

"Speaking of being hunted," Harry said anxiously, gazing pointedly at her. "Has Dumbledore spoken to you properly about Voldemort coming after you?"

"Yes; when I went up to his office on Saturday he told me about all the safety measures I'm going to have to take."

"Such as?" Harry asked raptly.

She sighed and gave Harry a wary glance. "I'm not supposed to talk about them."

"Not even to me?"

She shook her head and sighed again. "I know there seems to be an awful lot that I'm keeping from you but believe me, I don't want to." She gave him an imploring glance. Harry could tell that she was worried that he would get offended with her so decided this would be a good time for a change of topic.

"There's something else I need to tell you; Professor Trelawney made another prediction."

Hermione snorted making Harry frown at her.

"Ok, so what did she say?" she said with feigned interest.

Harry told her, very bluntly, about Professor Trelawney's seizure and recited word for word, line for line exactly what she had prophesied in her harsh voice. Once he was finished he saw with some satisfaction that Hermione was no longer looking sceptical but exceedingly anxious.

"But what does it mean?" she moaned nervously and Harry shrugged. "Didn't you ask Dumbledore?"

"Of course I did! He said he didn't know, but I have a feeling he was only saying that. He told me not to dwell on the prediction - that I must put it from my mind."

"Easier said than done," Hermione muttered grimly.

"My thoughts exactly. Do you have any idea what the prophecy means?" Harry asked her hopefully.

She flopped thoughtfully back onto the grass and they both cast their eyes skyward, to see the inky blackness dotted with millions of stars and illuminated by the full moon. "I'm not sure what it means, but it certainly wasn't a happy prediction - what with all the talk of death.... Not that any of her predictions are ever particularly happy, mind you. Ok, let's look at it logically - all the talk about Freedom and Freedom's butterfly - what does it mean by Freedom?"

Harry gave her a confused glance.

"Well, you can get different sorts of Freedom, can't you; such as you can be free in the sense that you are not in the power of another, or perhaps it means without something, but then again it could be independence..."

"Loneliness, you mean," said Harry quietly and Hermione stopped talking, waiting for him to continue. "I sometimes wonder if loneliness is the same as being free... Freedom's like the stars in the sky - so cold, alone and burning, each one keeps its distance."

Harry lay on his back and contemplated the stars for a moment. Though he did not turn to look, he heard Hermione roll onto her side in order to watch him.

"If only we were stars, you and I," he announced a little sadly.

"Are you saying you'd rather I left you alone; set you free?" she asked him sounding quite hurt as well as a little bewildered.

Harry took a moment to reply, "No; I'm just saying that love's got a lot to answer for, that's all."

It seemed Hermione had no answer for that so she dropped her gaze. Harry lightly kissed the hand he was still holding and carried on with trying to decipher the meaning of the augur. "Is there really going to be a butterfly that I have to release or is the butterfly just symbolic for something else?"

"Maybe it's both, I don't know." She then added shyly, "If it's freedom you want then let me be your freedom. "

Startled by her earnestness and unsure of her implication, Harry turned on his side and edged over to Hermione.

"Then if you are Freedom, perhaps I have to free a butterfly from your grasp..." he suggested laughingly as she glared at him in mock-outrage.

"I'd be very careful of what you say next, Harry."

"And why is that?" he murmured impishly, his face now only inches from hers. She flashed him a mischievous smile and pressed her lips against his tenderly before leaning back on the turf. For a moment Harry merely surveyed her whilst grinning broadly at the way she made him feel. When she had kissed him he had felt as though every one of his particles was charged with electricity and he became more aware of himself than usual. Like the way his blood was pounding fervently through his veins and the way his hands tingled in anticipation. He also noticed he had the floating feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

Harry leant forward and kissed Hermione again, gently at first then more urgently as though this kiss was to be his last. He felt her hands caress his neck at the same time as drawing him nearer.

A quiet yet unexpected sound close by made Harry pull back from Hermione. She looked questioningly at him as he strained to hear the noise a second time. And there it was, the soft padding of approaching feet. Without premeditation Harry leapt up and hauled Hermione to her feet, he then thrust his hand into his robes and pulled out his wand, pointing it at the bushes.

Without warning an enormous wolf, sporting a leaf-green collar, sprang forwards careering headlong into Harry's chest and knocking his wand from his grasp. Hermione had stumbled backwards in fright and screamed, "HARRY! IT'S A WEREWOLF!"

Harry only had a split-second in which to act - the only reason why the werewolf hadn't already savaged him was because its leap had carried it too far. But it now tore back, with teeth bared and hackles raised - Harry did the only thing that made sense. He pulled out the Carmen-Eversor and brandished it in front of him.

The werewolf swerved as it caught sight of the glistening blade, but was unable to stop as it hurtled towards Harry. The knife plunged deep into the flesh of its shoulder and it let out a blood-curdling cry. Harry felt the dagger wrench almost from his grasp as the werewolf retreated, whimpering.

Panting, Harry sank back onto the grass in a state of shock. Hermione threw herself onto his chest and clung to him tightly. In Harry's hand the knife gleamed innocently while the droplets of the werewolf's blood gradually faded away.

"I think we ought to get away from here," Harry told Hermione in a shaky voice. She nodded and they both got unsteadily to their feet. Harry retrieved his wand and the Invisibility Cloak and they headed for the stables.

When they arrived it was still lit up, but no one was around. Harry collected the oats and hay while Hermione went off to see Merula. He was stamping the ground with his hooves and was tossing his head impatiently, looking quite as wild as when Harry had first met him.

They fed him in silence and Hermione fetched his blanket. Staying only as long as was necessary, they made their way speedily back up to the school under the cover of the Cloak.

*

"I wonder why it's wearing a collar..." Harry mused aloud once they had reached the safety of their common room. It was just after midnight but they had found the room empty upon arrival. This was unusual, but they were nevertheless glad of it.

"It wasn't just any collar, Harry," Hermione replied tremulously. "It was made to look like a snake eating its tail."

Harry suddenly felt slightly nauseous. "Are you sure? It just looked like a leaf-green collar to me."

"Trust me - it was definitely a snake eating it's tail," she said looking disgusted.

"What was?" a voice came floating across the common room from the direction of the boy's spiral staircase. Ron appeared, framed in the doorway wearing his pyjamas but looking wide awake.

"We saw a werewolf out in the grounds," Harry informed him.

Harry saw Ron's jaw drop. After a moment he appeared to recover himself as he asked, "And what were you two doing out in the grounds at this time of night?"

Ron was looking astutely between Harry and Hermione who were both discernibly pink.

"We were just going for a walk," Hermione said with a casual shrug of her shoulders.

Ron made no further comment, though Harry could tell that he knew they hadn't only been going for a midnight stroll. Wasting no more time, Harry explained about meeting Hermione in the common room during dinner and taking her out onto the sloping lawns so that he could fill her in on the events of the past few days without being disturbed.

Having described the trip down to Hagrid's, Harry proceeded to tell Ron that he and Hermione had headed for the lake where they could talk freely. Harry did not go into too much detail - there was no need and besides, he did not want to rub Ron's face in it about the whole Hermione thing. Therefore Harry merely ended his tale with the werewolf's sudden appearance.

At this point, Harry rooted around in his pockets until he found the knife. Once in his grasp, he placed it down on a coffee table between the three of them. They gazed at it as it sparkled magnificently as though it had been recently polished. Harry fixed it with a suspicious look; he had made no attempt to clean the blood off the surface of the blade, yet it was stain-free and gleaming. Of course Harry knew that the Carmen-Eversor was a powerfully magical object, but it had been designed to destroy spells not eradicate blood from its surface...

Harry was just beginning to wonder what other functions the knife was concealing when Ron's voice broke through his chain of thought.

"You've got to tell Dumbledore about the werewolf, Harry." Harry stared at Ron as though he had gone mad.

"Are you joking? Dumbledore'd go mad if he knew we'd been sneaking around the grounds at this time of night!"

"But Harry," Ron insisted, "this could be something really important - about the collar, I mean!"

Harry gave Ron a sceptical look and turned to Hermione. "What do you reckon we should do? Is the collar really worth going to Dumbledore over?"

Hermione bit her lip as both boys waited expectantly for her to make answer.

"I think you've both got a point. Normally I wouldn't have thought that it warranted going to Dumbledore just because we saw a werewolf, albeit a werewolf wearing a collar. He knows there are werewolves in the Forbidden Forest, so it's hardly surprising that they come into the grounds every now and again. But the thing is, there is something significant about the snake eating its tail - I know it means something but I can't remember what..."

Harry sighed heavily. "Ok - how about we compromise? We don't inform Dumbledore yet, but research this snake symbol. Then once we've found it we decide whether or not we should talk to Dumbledore."

Ron nodded in agreement but Hermione was still not whole-heartedly convinced. She glanced at Harry, apprehensively biting her lip again. Harry saw that she was reluctant to speak her mind so he asked gently, "What? What else is wrong?"

"Well..." she began nervously. "It's just that this may have something to do with You-Know-Who... Why was it wearing a snake collar? You-Know-Who does have a bit of an obsession with snakes, though doesn't he."

"So are you saying that you want to go see Dumbledore now?" Harry asked her. At length she shook her then said, "It's late and I'm tired - would you guys mind if I go up to bed?"

They didn't mind, so Hermione started walking over towards her dormitory. Ron stretched and stifled a yawn. "I reckon I'm gonna turn in now too - we can finish talking about this in the morning."

Harry bent down and picked up the dagger carefully by the hilt but let go of it immediately, sending it clattering onto the table. Ron and Hermione both jumped and swivelled round to face Harry, astonished to see that all the colour had drained from his face.

"Harry - what is it?" said Ron looking somewhat disquieted.

"Lupin... What if it was Lupin?" Harry asked hoarsely, staring at the twinkling bladed in disgust. Hermione had turned a sickly green colour as she goggled at Harry, horrified.

"Harry - relax. Of all the werewolves you could have... stabbed, Lupin is the least likely. I mean, he's gone into hiding hasn't he? So he's hardly going to be rampaging around Hogwarts is he?" Ron replied in a pacifying sort of voice.

Harry was not convinced. He was just on the verge of opening his mouth to argue when Ron said bracingly, "Listen. Even if it was Lupin no one will blame you - you did what you had to. If you'd just stood back and gave no resistance then you and Hermione would either have been bitten or got yourselves killed."

Harry nodded dumbly, but privately felt that Ron's words did not conciliate him.

Hermione was still looking appalled as Ron said, "Well - shall we call it a night then?"

Harry nodded a second time and gathered up his Cloak and the Carmen-Eversor. The boys headed for their staircase but stopped as they realised that Hermione still stood her ground, watching them.

"Did you say Lupin has something that You-Know-Who wants?" she asked in a worried tone.

"Yes - that's why he has gone into hiding. Why do you ask?" Harry returned, all the while surveying Hermione carefully. He could tell by her body language that she had understood something that he and Ron had between them failed to spot.

For a moment, Hermione appeared to be on the brink of revealing important information but in the end shook her head slightly and bid them goodnight before mounting her staircase.

Ron turned to Harry seemingly bemused, "I don't suppose you can tell me what that was all about?"

It took Harry some time to reply as he tried to work out what it was that Lupin had, which Voldemort was after. "No - but I expect she'll tell us eventually, though."

With that they made their way around the twisting steps to their dormitory. Judging by Neville's snores and the other deep breathing that filled the room, Harry and Ron were the only ones still awake.

*