Harry Potter & The Blade of Carmen-Eversor

Chapter Six

Hours later, Harry remained wide-eyed and restless. Try as he might, he could not seem to empty his mind enough to drop off to sleep. Sighing crossly, he sat up and reached for his glasses. He wasn't very attentive as he was deep in thought - this was why it took Harry some time to realise that he was trying to put his glasses on upside down.

Once his glasses were perched the right way up on his nose, he clambered out of bed and headed for the window with the intention of pouring himself a beaker of water from the jug situated on the windowsill.

Harry sat down on the deep stone ledge and peered out into the night as though in the hope that his doing so might steer him in the correct direction for some answers. Since Hermione had raised the question of what Lupin has that Voldemort wants, Harry had been trying to work out what it could be.

After Harry had arrived unannounced and unexpected on Lupin's doorstep proclaiming that Voldemort was nearby, Lupin had frantically gathered up some small articles and put them into his narrow travelling case, but what Harry could not remember was what the items had been. If only he had been more attentive, he thought to himself in annoyance. Then perhaps he would know what Voldemort was after and why his friend's life was in danger.

Well, Harry mused, whatever it was Voldemort wanted had to be considerably small in size for it to have fitted discreetly into the case... Surely Lupin had put it into the case - he wouldn't have left it unattended in his house after Harry had warned him that Voldemort was nearby, would he...

And that was another thing. Every other time Harry had used soul-release he had actually seen Voldemort. But this latest occasion Harry had got to the destination before him - why?

This was a question that Harry had no answer for. He therefore tried to tuck it into less prominence in his mind, but its place was taken by the pangs of guilt Harry experienced as he wondered who the wolf had been. Even if it wasn't Lupin it was still a person... Most of the time... And Harry hated to think that he had critically injured - possibly even killed - someone. The fact that it had been in self-defence was irrelevant.

Harry let out a long breath and turned his gaze upward to see the stars. Once again he became pensive and philosophical. All the time he had lived with the Dursleys, Harry had been given a strange sort of freedom. One could argue that he had had no freedom as he was constantly being locked away or forced to do things. However, his freedom was of a different sort; it was freedom from love. The Dursleys had certainly never loved or even cared for him. He had not known friendship until he had arrived at Hogwarts. So his early life had been a lonely one. Hence his wondering if loneliness was in fact just the same as being free.

Harry scowled up at the inky blackness. For over six years he had not been so troubled by his emotions as he was now. So why was now suddenly different? Yet another question Harry had no solution to. Lately, he got the feeling that his life was in fact nothing more than a string of complicated, confusing and unanswerable enquiries. Was he the only one whose life was so intricate, or were there others who were unfortunate enough to be blessed with elaborate histories too?

Harry became distracted as his meditations turned to Hermione.

If it's freedom you want then let me be your freedom..."

What had she meant? How could she be his freedom? He smiled slightly as an image of her smiling shyly at him swam into view.

Harry yawned. It was one of those jaw-cracking yawns that feel as though it'll never end. Deciding that he ought to make another stab at sleep, Harry got up from his perch on the window ledge and headed stiffly back to his bed. However, had Harry remained where he was for a few minutes more, he would have seen something down on the lawns that would have explained a great deal. As it was, Harry missed the opportunity as he sank peacefully into a dreamless sleep.

*

"Harry - you look awful!" cried Ron bluntly as Harry collapsed into a chair opposite him and Hermione at breakfast.

"Thanks," Harry replied sardonically as he sprinkled sugar onto his porridge, "I can always count on you, Ron, to say precisely the right thing to make me feel so much better."

Ron grinned at him as Hermione, peering anxiously at him, said - "Did you manage to get any sleep last night?"

Harry yawned widely, confirming that he hadn't but he still went ahead and replied anyway. "No - not much. I think it was about four o'clock when I finally drifted off."

Just then there was a slight diversion as the post owls swooped in. Harry absent-mindedly looked up but wasn't expecting anything. Hermione received her usual copy of the Daily Prophet and they once more returned their attention to their breakfasts.

Hermione had just taken a great gulp of pumpkin juice upon unfolding the newspaper when she choked, spraying its cover - and Harry - with orange liquid. Wiping his face dry on his sleeve, Harry stared at her apprehensively. He vividly recalled the last occasion when Hermione had reacted in that way to a newspaper; it had been because of an article entitled, "Harry Potter 'Disturbed and Dangerous.'"

Harry watched as Ron craned over to read the paper also and with some trepidation saw his mouth fall open. Harry was further startled when Hermione looked up and uttered a triumphant "Ha!" causing many nearby people to stare at her.

"Is either of you two going to fill me in on what's going on?" Harry asked, feeling faintly annoyed as Ron finished reading the article, an exuberant grin spreading across his face.

"I won't spoil it for you by saying anything," Ron replied smugly as he handed the paper over to Harry with a flourish. Harry unfolded it, intrigued.

Malevolent Malfoy; Armed and Dangerous

Lucius Malfoy, ex-governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and prominent member of the Ministry of Magic is on the run, reports the Daily Prophet.

The Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal that Mr. Malfoy was apprehended on Monday evening, caught in the act of torturing and killing a shocking total some twenty-seven muggles using the Unforgivable Curses on the bidding of He Who Must Not Be Named.

The Ministry of Magic received an anonymous tip-off regarding the horrific behaviour of Mr. Malfoy and two other Death Eaters, and Ministry officials arrived on the scene just in time to witness the acts of barbarity performed and arrest the fiends responsible. However, Mr. Malfoy escaped by killing one of the fully trained hit-wizards, who the Ministry of Magic has yet to confirm the identity of.

The magical community is warned to steer clear of the fugitive who is possibly more dangerous than the infamous Sirius Black - if indeed such a thing is possible. Under the influence of Veritaserum, the two other suspects captured - who cannot be named for legal reasons - revealed that Lucius Malfoy is in fact You-Know-Who's right-hand man and has been since the capture of the previously mentioned Black.

A spokesperson from the Ministry released the following plea to witches and wizards up and down the country. , "It is essential that any sightings of Lucius Malfoy be reported immediately, and we entreat you all to remain calm as we assure you that Mr. Malfoy will be safely locked away in Azkaban shortly."

But will this statement be sufficient to calm the fears of the nation, as we all wait in fear of the reunion between the dark Lord's two most dangerous and ruthless supporters?

Harry flung down the paper in disgust. Ron and Hermione's smirking smiles faltered at his expression.

"Harry - don't tell me that you're not pleased about the Malfoys finally getting their comeuppance!" Ron exclaimed incredulously.

"Oh yeah - I'm ecstatic," Harry snapped furiously. "What I'm most pleased about is all the references to Sirius!"

"But Harry," Hermione began appealingly but stopped at a glower from Harry.

"Don't either of you realise how much riskier it is for Sirius? Think of all the extra vigilance this article is going to inspire - there will be tighter security, like that of three years ago!" Here Harry got up and stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving Ron and Hermione staring speechlessly after him.

Harry checked his watch - it was still only a quarter to eight, meaning that he had plenty of time to go and send a letter to Sirius before heading off to class. Having stopped off first at Gryffindor tower to gather a quill and some parchment, Harry climbed the flight of stone steps that led to the owlery. Many amber eyes opened sleepily as he headed for Hedwig's usual roost. She fluttered down and landed on his outstretched arm, giving him an affectionate nip as she inspected his hand for her usual treat.

Somewhat guiltily, Harry informed her - "I'm really sorry - I forgot to bring anything for you."

She eyed him reproachfully and clicked her beak indignantly but all the same let him stroke her. Harry hastily scrawled what must have been his shortest ever letter to Sirius:

Padfoot;

Any chance of meeting you in Hogsmeade on Saturday 31st? I have many questions I want to discuss with you - I won't say anymore in case this gets intercepted.

Harry

Hedwig consented to take his letter but deliberately cuffed him around the head with her extended wing as she soared smoothly out of the window into the grey sky.

*

"Where have you been?" asked Hermione in a worried voice as Harry sauntered down the passageway outside their potions classroom.

"Sending a letter," Harry replied shortly.

Ron turned around and came over from where he had been standing a few feet away with Dean and Seamus.

"No need to ask who to," Ron remarked wryly. Harry merely scowled at him. "Look - we're sorry about earlier. It's just that we didn't think it was all that big a deal about... Snuffles," he continued, glaring pointedly at Lavender and Pavarti who were eavesdropping curiously.

"Forget it. I didn't mean to snap at you guys - I've just been so tired lately," said Harry. Before either of his companions could reply Snape swept into their midst and they all filed quietly into his dungeon classroom.

The three of them plonked down their bags at their habitual table at the back, initially surprised by the subdued Slytherins. However, when Malfoy failed to turn up they presumed that the suppressed atmosphere was down to the Daily Prophet article.

Snape began calling the register but paused after Harry had answered. He then said sarcastically, "So Potter - you have decided to grace us all with your presence once again. We were beginning to worry that you were never going to come back."

Harry didn't even look up. He was too tired to be resentful and so he had scarcely heard what Snape had said. Snape's eyes flashed dangerously as he continued to reel off the list of names, a sure sign of trouble.

"I wonder, Potter. Would you care to briefly recap on what we have been studying lately?"

There was a long, still pause and it took a good hard poke in the ribs from Ron before Harry noticed that Snape had been addressing him. He looked up at Snape with a glazed, bleary-eyed expression and it took a further pause for Harry to reply. It was not that he hadn't heard Snape - he had. It was just that his brain seemed to be taking a long time to process the information.

Harry frowned, "Actually no; I haven't had a chance to read up on what I've missed yet."

Snape's eyes gleamed as he replied silkily, "Dear me - do you have more pressing concerns on your time? How about we make it five points from Gryffindor and let's see if that helps you to rearrange your priorities.

"For your information we have been learning about indicating solutions."

Snape turned back to the blackboard and began writing up the instructions for today's potion on it. He then called over his shoulder, "Oh and Potter, we wouldn't want for you to have another accident whilst in your present company, which would prevent you from attending my lessons. So I think it would be best for you to bring your things and sit at the desk in front of mine."

Muttering furiously, Harry scooped up his bag and bunged the equipment and ingredient he had laid out on his table into his cauldron. Looking surly, he slouched down the length of the room and began unpacking his things and placing it on the desk.

Harry had had enough lessons with Snape by now to know that he had some ulterior motive for summoning Harry to the front of the class, yet Snape seemed to be in no hurry to reveal what it was. Wearily, Harry began preparing his ingredients according to the instructions illustrated on the board while Snape swept around criticising almost everyone's work.

When he had once more returned to Harry's desk, Snape fixed him with a sinister smile as he dropped a large pile of paper under Harry's nose. "This is all the work we have covered in your absence. You are to complete making your own notes, which will be handed in to me promptly during Friday's lesson. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry nodded slightly and turned back to adding porcupine quills to his solution. It took him a moment to realise that Snape was still standing over him, so he glanced up and asked seemingly politely, "Yes? Is there something else I can help you with?"

Snape did not reply. He continued to fix Harry with a shrewd glare before finally sweeping back to his own table.

Harry shrugged and finished adding his ingredients. All that remained now was for the concoction to simmer gently for half an hour, so Harry sat back down on his stool and rested his head on his arms.

THWACK! Harry jerked upright as Snape slammed a fist onto Harry's desk, causing everyone to stop whatever it was they were doing and look in his direction. Harry gulped as he realised that he must have dozed off and dared to meet Snape's eyes, which were currently narrowed threateningly.

"Tired are you, Potter?" Snape asked him softly.

Harry made no response but forced himself to keep looking into those endless, cold black eyes whilst assuming what he hoped was an innocent expression.

Snape lowered his voice to such an extent as he spoke the next words that Harry knew no one else in the class could hear what he spoke. "Perhaps you shouldn't go on so many night-time wanderings into places that are out of bounds to you. Then maybe you wouldn't miss my lessons..."

Harry blinked, trying to figure out whether Snape was referring to last night's midnight stroll, or one of earlier trips. The expression the Potions Master was wearing was livid fury and Harry wondered if perhaps Snape too, knew he had been at Siramad's castle.

"I think that'll be a further ten points from Gryffindor and a detention to follow. Now get back to work."

Harry thought that this was surprisingly lenient of Snape and stared at him suspiciously as he commenced on another round of the room.

The end of the lesson couldn't come quickly enough for Harry. As soon as the bell rang, he grabbed his possessions with the intention of making a hasty get away, but he had not managed to get even half way to the door when Snape called him back.

"Potter - a word."

Harry traipsed back to the front of the class and stopped short of Snape's desk. Snape was surveying him with a satisfied smile and waited until the classroom door swung shut after the last person exited through it. He then pronounced in a bitter happiness, "We still need to decide upon a suitable date for your detention - I was thinking that Saturday evening is as good a time as any."

It was evident to Harry that Snape thought this was going to disappoint him most - what with the Halloween Dance taking place that night. This was why it came as somewhat of a shock to Snape when Harry grinned broadly, trying to fight back a mad desire to laugh at the expression on Snape's ugly face.

In Harry's mind this was the perfect solution to his problem regarding Ron and Hermione. Until now he had felt as though he was in a no-win situation; if he danced with Hermione Ron would get upset with him. But if he didn't dance with her she would be offended. At least now he wouldn't be offending anyone and if he was to have a detention, then Saturday night was as Snape had said - as good a time as any.

Snape was shooting Harry sceptical glances as Harry tried not to look too pleased with the arrangement. Snape seemed to be trying to determine if Harry was pretending to be glad in an attempt to trick him into changing the date of the detention.

In the end, Snape appeared to decide that Harry was genuinely happy as he said, "On second thoughts, I feel six o'clock sharp on Sunday morning would be a more convenient time. And if you are so much as a second late, Potter, I assure you that you will regret it."

Harry's mouth fell open in horror and he stood glaring at Snape angrily as though he had just cancelled Christmas or something. A triumphant smirk turned the corners of Snape's mouth upward and Harry stalked furiously out of the dungeon without a further word.

*

Harry found Ron and Hermione waiting for him up in the Entrance Hall.

"What did he say?" Ron asked warily taking in the fact that Harry was positively seething with fury as he emerged at the top of the steps.

"Told me my detention starts at six in the morning on Sunday," Harry spat indignantly.

This was relatively kind of Snape considering the facts that Harry had fallen asleep in his lesson and that this was Snape they were talking about... While Ron and Hermione could see that Harry was understandably annoyed, they appeared to be a tad bit confused that he was as angry about it as he was. There weren't to know (and Harry had no intention of telling them) that what Snape had said made him feel something comparable to how he suspected he'd feel if was presented with the Quidditch trophy only to have it confiscated seconds later.

"Shall we head down to the greenhouses then?" Hermione suggested timidly, clearly afraid that Harry was going to snarl at her. Sensing her apprehension, Harry gave her a weak smile and made a conscious effort to cool off as they strolled down to where they had Herbology lessons.

They didn't have long to wait before Professor Sprout arrived and ushered them into Greenhouse Three.

"Today you will be collecting the wool of the Mordax Gossympinus - no more then four to a bush, please. I suggest that you all get yourselves a pair of gloves as the Mordax Gossympinus bites. It may look harmless," said Professor Sprout indicating a plant that had many little tufts of what looked like cotton wool balls attached to it, "But it has sharp teeth and strong jaws, and I can assure you that if it nips you it will hurt."

The class took themselves off to collect gloves and station themselves at their bushes. Harry, Ron and Hermione headed for a shrub situated at the rear of the greenhouse and pulled on their gloves.

"This shouldn't be too difficult," said Ron confidently.

Hermione had been about to tell him something but became distracted as Harry asked, "So what have I missed in Herbology over the past few weeks?"

"Not much - we've spent most of the time trimming the Venomous Tentacula as it was getting completely out of hand again. It was near impossible to walk down the central aisle without being ambushed by it! If it weren't so useful I'd wonder why they don't just get rid..."

"WAH! Look at the size of the mouth of that thing!" Ron yelled, leaping back painfully onto Harry's foot. Ron had just made an attempt to gather some of the wool from an innocent looking ball when a gaping jaw bigger than Ron's hand - which was saying something as Ron's hands were certainly not small - had suddenly appeared in the place off the cute little cotton puff.

"And she's expecting me to put my hand back in there, I suppose," said Ron looking dubious as Harry and Hermione eyed the ball of wool that had now reverted back to its original harmless size and shape.

There were many other cries of surprise as other groups vainly endeavoured to collect some of the Mordax Gossympinus's wool.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were still eyeing the plant cautiously when a pretty girl with long coppery-coloured hair appeared behind them and asked quietly, "Is it alright if I join you? Everywhere else is full..."

"Of course," said Hermione smiling at her, "You're Susan Bones, aren't you?"

The girl nodded shyly and said, "Call me Susie - everyone does."

"Ron told me about your capture of the snitch on Saturday," Harry said warmly. "It sounded amazing - I wish I could have seen it!"

Susie blushed and looked up for the first time. Harry was startled to see that she had tears in her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked her in concern, his ears gaining a slight reddish tinge.

She dried her hand on the backs of her hands and sighed. "Yes - I'll be ok. What are we meant to be doing then? I was late and so missed Professor Sprout's explanation."

Susie looked at the Mordax Gossympinus curiously as Hermione replied, "Professor Sprout asked everyone to gather up some of that wool, but we were just wondering how best to go about it."

"Well, why don't we just pull it off?" she asked, looking at Hermione in some confusion as she reached out a hand to the nearest ball. Ron grabbed her hand and pulled it back just in time to prevent it from being savaged by the monster-plant, which had snapped ferociously at Susie's ungloved hand.

Appearing stunned, Susie stared at the plant then turned to Ron and giggled, "Thanks - that was a bit of close one! I feel pretty stupid now though."

"Don't worry about it - I did exactly the same thing a minute ago," Ron replied, then blushed as he realised that he was still holding her hand. Harry and Hermione exchanged an astute glance.

Susie blushed as he let go of her mumbling, "You might want to put some gloves on."

As she went to fetch herself some, Harry said, "So have either of you got any ideas how we're going to do this?"

Ron shrugged distractedly as he stared after Susie. Hermione rolled her eyes at him and turned to Harry, "Hmmm - how about we just make a random grab and hope for the best? No? Oh ok, then I'm afraid for once I don't have any suggestions."

"What about diversionary tactics?" proposed Susie as she returned, pulling on an extremely bulky pair of dragon hide gloves. The three of them stared at her.

"Er - what sort of diversionary tactics?" Harry inquired slightly uneasily.

"I was thinking that perhaps if two of us put our hands in as bait, the other two could collect some of the wool while their teeth are otherwise engaged," she replied lightly, smiling at their apprehensive faces.

"Now all we need is for two of us to act as the bait," said Hermione sceptically.

For a moment no one spoke, then Susie laughingly responded, "Call yourselves Gryffindors? And not one of you is brave enough to put your hand near a plant!"

They returned her grin, all pretending to be offended as Harry replied, "Well, if my honour as a Gryffindor is at stake then I guess I'll have to volunteer..."

"And as my specialty is creating diversions, I too will put myself forward," she said mildly. Ron gawped at her as if she was mad, though at the same time looking deeply impressed by her daring.

Harry sighed resignedly. Despite his thick gloves he wasn't enthusiastic about offering his hand to a plant with such huge jaws. It somehow seemed foolhardy to stick his hand in there deliberately when he still wasn't convinced that he would be bringing it out again in one piece.

"Ready?" Susie asked Ron who was to be gathering from the mouths that lunged for her. Harry glanced at Hermione and saw that she appeared pale at the prospect of snatching wool from off the snappy heads.

Harry and Susie extended their hands at the same time and drew a simultaneous abrupt intake of breath as several pairs of teeth sank into the fabric of their gauntlets. The needle-like teeth got snagged in the fibres but were not sharp enough to penetrate through to Harry's skin. However, the pressure with which the jaws clamped around his hand was crushing and it was this that had caused him to draw breath.

Speedily, Ron and Hermione leapt upon the heads while they couldn't snap at them and wrenched off the fluffy cotton, leaving funny-looking bald spheres that were an off-brown colour. Hermione laughed at the pitiful sight of the hairless ones as they promptly released Harry's glove, shivering now it had no woolly coat to insulate it. They cringed back and attempted to snuggle into other heads that still retained their cotton, but were forced back by nipping jaws that evidently didn't want to share. It was an amusing spectacle to watch.

They continued in much the same manner, until the end of the lesson. Professor Sprout was very impressed with the amount of wool they had managed to collect between them - it was almost more than all the rest of the class had managed to gather put together - and proceeded to award them ten house points each. It turned out that none of the others in their class had thought of using themselves as bait (Harry didn't need to work out why), but had gone down the route of making random grabs at the wool here and there.

"Um... Hermione?" Harry asked blankly, staring at his gloved hands.

"What?" she said taking her attention away from this week's homework, which Professor Sprout was scrawling up on the board.

Harry continued to stare blankly at his gloves. After a moment he looked up, nonplussed. "I can't move my hands."

"What? Not at all?" she asked him in surprise.

"No. Do you think you could help me take these gloves off?" he implored her.

Hermione nodded and set to work at easing the first of his gloves off. It took a while, and alerted Susie to the fact that she too couldn't move her hands. She called upon Ron to come to her aid, which he did obligingly. As Harry's left hand was released the four of them gasped; his hand was about twice its normal size and already colossal bruises were beginning to appear.

"Doesn't that hurt, Harry?" Ron asked in an awed voice.

Harry shook his head, bewildered. "This should be painful. Why isn't it painful?"

Ron, Hermione and Susie all shrugged clueless and returned their attention to removing the gloves with increased urgency before Harry's other hand, or either of Susie's became too swollen.

Once Hermione had freed his remaining hand, she took them both in hers and said, "Can you feel me holding you at all?"

He shook her head and watched as she squeezed his hands with her palms gently, saying - "Still nothing?"

"No."

"This is weird," said Ron fervently having removed Susie's mitts. Hermione put her hand into the air to attract Professor Sprout's attention as she finished her writing.

"Yes?"

"Could you come over here for a moment please, Professor?" Hermione asked quietly. A few heads turned curiously in her direction but soon returned their attention to copying off the board as Professor Sprout bustled over.

"Goodness!" She exclaimed, catching sight of Harry and Susie's hands, which had swollen even further in the few minutes that they had been out of their gloves.

"You had both best go up to the hospital wing. Weasley - would you accompany them? They look as though they'll need your help to open the doors."

Harry gave Hermione a half smile as he had headed out of the greenhouse with Ron and Susie. None of them spoke on the journey up to the ward - there didn't seem to be anything to say.

Madam Pomfrey poked her head around her office door and tutted as she caught sight of them.

"And there was me thinking that you had seen quite enough of my ward already for this month, Potter," she remarked dryly. "What have you been up to this time?"

Ron explained about the Mordax Gossympinus and then added, "I'd better go get my stuff. Do you guys want me to bring your bags up here?"

"Thanks Ron," Susie smiled at him as she spoke and Harry nodded distractedly as Madam Pomfrey examined him. Ron exited the wing smiling broadly, his ears reddening again.

"This won't take long to mend," Madam Pomfrey informed them as she fetched a pot containing an ointment. She first rubbed it carefully onto Susie's bruises and Harry marveled as her hands visibly returned to their normal size. The actual bruises themselves remained but they did seem to have been reduced and soothed considerably.

Susie winced as she bent and stretched her fingers, "Ouch - well, they're not numb anymore."

"The bruises will be a bit tender for a few days, I'm afraid, but that can't be helped. Right - your turn, Potter."

Harry held out his hands and the matron massaged the remedy into them. However, nothing happened. Madam Pomfrey appeared puzzled as Harry's hands merely continued to inflate gradually. She disappeared into her office and returned carrying a tiny phial containing a clear liquid. She applied one drop to each of his hands in turn, but still nothing happened.

"What's going on?" asked Susie as she gazed at his puffy hands, "Why hasn't the ointment worked?"

"I don't know," replied the nurse in a kind of quiet distress. Harry realised it must be the first time in her career as a nurse that she had not known what to do to heal a patient. She sighed sadly then said, "Please wait here for me, I will be back shortly."

Harry and Susie watched her leave in silence. Susie then turned to Harry once she and gone and said, "I wonder where she's going."

Harry shrugged. The only occasions he had ever seen Madam Pomfrey leave her ward was at meal times and though it was the start of lunch-break, somehow he figured that she had not left them in preference of her lunch.

"You don't seem to be having a good time of it at the moment, do you?" Susie asked him quietly. Harry turned to look at her as she continued. "What with you getting knocked out - twice - and then Professor Trelawney's prediction..."

"You don't know the half of it, "Harry replied grimly.

They were quiet for a moment, then Susie asked softly - "Did Ron really knock you down the stairs?"

Harry fixed her with a sharp, piercing look and she dropped her gaze. "Sort of - but it wasn't entirely his fault and it certainly wasn't deliberate."

"And was it... Was it really because of you and... Because of you and Hermione?" she blurted out with a couple of hesitations.

"Just out of interest, how did you find all this out?" Harry asked with a hint of annoyance. "Don't get me wrong, I don't mind people knowing, but it might be nice if they got the facts straight, that's all."

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to pry. Hannah Abbott told me and I think she heard it from Lavender Brown..." she trailed off, sounding slightly hopeful that Harry would tell her what she wanted to know.

"Yes, it was about Hermione," Harry said cautiously.

Susie sighed. "So he must really like her then..."

Harry wasn't too sure what to say to that. He suspected that Ron had a crush on Susie, but still liked Hermione as well. Before Harry had figured out what would be the most sensible thing to say in response, Madam Pomfrey returned accompanied by Dumbledore. Both of them had the appearance of great solemnity and Harry did not feel at all comforted by the seriousness of their expressions.

"Harry - could I look at your hands, please?" Dumbledore inquired gravely. Harry obediently showed them to him. "And this was caused by what exactly?"

Harry launched into an explanation of the biting cotton plant and their unorthodox method of gathering the woolly tufts.

"Miss Bones, would you mind if I see your hands too?"

Susie frowned slightly in confusion but nevertheless extended her arms so that Dumbledore could examine her hands.

"These were much the same as Harry's are now, but were healed by the Frangere lotion. Is that correct?" Dumbledore asked Madam Pomfrey slowly and carefully. At a nod from her he continued. "But when you applied the same balm to Harry's bruises, it had no effect. Then you tried Mirus water, but that still made no difference. Is that the case?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded a second time and Dumbledore lapsed into thoughtful silence. Meanwhile Susie shot Harry quizzical glances as Harry waited on tenterhooks for Dumbledore to next speak.

Before Dumbledore even showed any inclination to persevere with his speech, the hospital wing door opened, revealing Ron and Hermione who were lugging Harry and Susie's bags as well as their own. Both of them halted at the sight of Dumbledore and gazed at Harry with similar quizzical expressions to the one Susie had been giving him.

"Is something wrong?" Ron asked thickly as he and Hermione approached the group.

"The remedy didn't heal Harry," Susie informed them in a whisper. Harry was unsure exactly why Susie was whispering, but presumed that it was perhaps so that she didn't disrupt Dumbledore's chain of thought.

"Miss Bones, are you in need of any further medical attention?" Dumbledore asked her kindly.

"No sir," she replied politely.

"Then would you mind if I asked the three of you to leave? I do not wish to appear rude but there is something I want to discuss with Harry and I think it would be easier if we didn't have an audience."

The three people in question looked fairly disappointed, but left quietly all the same. "We'll come back to see you later - ok?" said Hermione anxiously as she followed Ron and Susie from the room.

Harry peered half curiously, half uneasily at Dumbledore who did not speak again until he was positive that it was just Madam Pomfrey, Harry and himself in earshot.

"Harry do you have any objects to my informing Madam Pomfrey about the knife?" Dumbledore asked him sincerely.

"Er - no, not really," Harry replied, unsure of what the knife had to do with anything.

Before he said anything more, Dumbledore drew himself up a chair and indicated for the others to do so too. "Please bear with me for a moment, Harry. Now, Poppy - have you heard of the blades of Carmen-Eversor?"

Whatever Madam Pomfrey had been thinking when Dumbledore had mentioned a knife previously, it had not been that. She looked at Dumbledore suspiciously, "If my memory serves me correctly, the Carmen-Eversor knives were spell destroyers but they were all eradicated from the world an awfully long time ago."

"That is correct - the knives were designed to destroy spells and, until this last weekend, I too believed that they had been eliminated. However, one - or at least only one that we are aware of - was overlooked. It is now in Harry's possession and it was that which created the gaping wound on Harry's limb." Dumbledore told Madam Pomfrey whose mouth was wide open in speechless disbelief.

"Er - Professor? What has the knife got to do with my hands?" Harry asked blankly, still confused as to the dagger's relevance.

"I was just getting to that, Harry," Dumbledore replied sternly and Harry lapsed into a humble silence, allowing Dumbledore to proceed.

"As I said a moment ago, destroying spells was what the knives were designed to do. It is not, however, their only function."

Harry was instantly reminded of the werewolf blood that had miraculously vanished from the blade, but held his tongue. Now was not the moment to mention this. And anyway, he told himself, he had made an agreement with Ron and Hermione not to inform Dumbledore of that yet...

Just then, Madam Pomfrey found her voice and asked the question that Harry too had been pondering, "What is this other function?"

"To say that the knife simply destroys spells is not strictly accurate. What actually happens is the blade splits the spell into two parts, equal down to the last particle, one of these parts is destroyed whilst the other is absorbed. As the Carmen-Eversor takes in part of the spell it appears to have completely destroyed it - this was why all know the blades of Carmen-Eversor as destroyers of spells.

"Now, the piece of the spell ingested is - to put it in simple terms - like a second version of the original spell, in that it retains the same, full characteristics as the original..."

"But how can a spell be split up and still retain its full potential?" Harry interrupted, confused.

"A very complex web of reasons surrounds that question, Harry. One that would take far too long to explain now and you would undoubtedly only understand a small proportion of it. Just let it be enough to know that a spell can be divided and remain unaffected, in very exceptional circumstances.

"The problem is that the knife does not only absorb the spell, but regurgitates - in no apparent order - one of the spells it has taken in on each occasion it is used. Therefore meaning that one of those half-spells was released into you when the blade pierced your leg, Harry. Unfortunately, I am at a loss as to what the spell is. Though judging by your sudden resistance to all remedies save Phoenix tears, it would appear that this spell is very powerful and particularly dangerous."

Harry suddenly blanched as he was struck by an unpleasant thought, "The knife deflected Avada Kedavra - so does that mean it absorbed part of it? Or not, because it didn't destroy it?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "The knife always, without fail, will separate a spell into two equal halves - even if one half is not destroyed. Lurking somewhere within that dagger is Avada Kedavra and we have no way of knowing when it will be unleashed."

This statement was followed by a very tense pause, the atmosphere in the room was palpable.

"Does the spell that is set free work straight away?" Madam Pomfrey asked quietly.

"Not to its full potential, no. But it does begin to serve its purpose immediately."

"So the spell that's in me," Harry inquired nervously, "Has it reached its full potency yet?"

"Though I cannot be certain, I would be inclined to say that, no it has not reached its full potency," Dumbledore replied gravely.

"When will it?" Harry asked quietly.

Dumbledore stood up, crossed over to one of the windows and stared out pensively. "Again Harry, I do not know. I'm at a loss as to what the spell is and I pray that we discover its identity before its too late..."

Harry gulped. He suddenly felt like a walking time-bomb; liable to explode at any moment. It was not what you would call a comforting thought.

"Is there any way of extracting it, or countering it?" Madam Pomfrey wondered softly - more to herself than either Harry or Dumbledore.

"There will be, but we would first need to know what this spell is."

"How do we find out? I mean is there a test you can do, or something?" Harry asked edgily.

"Alas no, Harry. The only way to know is to make a note of all the effects and then try to match them to a spell that produces those symptoms. At the moment, all I can discern is that the spell residing within you is almost unblockable to any healing or restorative drafts..."

Harry suddenly found himself experiencing the unpleasant sensation of what felt like a bucket full of ice being tipped into his stomach. "Unblockable? Then... Could the Avada Kedavra have been the one released?"

Dumbledore did not meet Harry's gaze as he said quietly, "The knife punctured you after being hit by Avada Kedavra?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"Then it is of course possible..."

"Is that what you think the spell is?" Harry whispered desperately, willing Dumbledore to calm his fears.

Dumbledore studied him sadly; "Suppositions such as these will do you no good, Harry. Do not worry about this until you need to - at present I have no way of knowing if the spell is Avada Kedavra or not."

Harry gave Dumbledore a glance brimming with a quiet resolution. "But do you believe that it is the one?"

Knowing he could avoid the question no longer, Dumbledore responded gently and sincerely. "Yes, Harry. I'm afraid I do."

A sudden sense of unreality settled upon Harry and he cradled his head in his hands for a moment without really thinking about what he was doing, too preoccupied with allowing the full extend of Dumbledore's words to sink. He was just wondering how much time he had before the spell retained full strength when he heard Madam Pomfrey utter a startled cry and murmur, "Your hands! What's happened to your hands?"

Harry sat up and turned his attention to his hands. They were no longer swollen and bruised, but quite their normal size and shape. He flexed his fingers and found them supple, unlike Susie's had been when she initially tried to move them.

As Harry gazed at Dumbledore for an explanation he was astonished to find him speechless. Harry could not ever remember there ever having been a time when Dumbledore was as truly lost for words as he was now.

"But how?" Harry asked, bewildered.

Dumbledore merely shook his head uncertainly.

"Did the Mirus water finally take effect, do you think? Or is this to do with something entirely separate?" wondered Madam Pomfrey catching hold of Harry's hands and turning them over and over to inspect both the backs and the palms.

"I cannot tell you. It is indeed a possibility that the Mirus water kicked in, but I don't see why it should have been so delayed in its effect..."

"Does that mean that the spell might not be Avada Kedavra after all?" said Harry eagerly.

"Harry, I'm as baffled by this sudden change of events as you are and I have no more answers to offer. While I would be delighted to reassure you that the spell isn't the one in question, at the same time I don't want to raise your hopes under false pretences. I appreciate that it's difficult, but you must be patient, and it will all fall into place eventually. Perhaps you ought to go and get yourself some lunch before your next class, there is nothing reason for you to remain in here any more."

Harry stood up. There was a finality in Dumbledore's tone that made it clear to Harry that his presence was no longer required, so he thanked both Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore before scooping up his bag and leaving the ward with one last curious glance over his shoulder.

In somewhat of a daze, Harry vaguely made his way down to the Great hall. Many things were troubling him, what he was going to tell Ron and Hermione was one of them.

When Harry arrived in the Entrance Hall quite a crowd of people were milling about keenly, all looking in the same direction. Harry forced his way to the front and found an unexpected sight; Draco Malfoy was being steered towards the Castle's main doors by two Ministry officials.

Malfoy let out a roar of fury upon seeing Harry and lunged at him, breaking free from his escort's grasps. The unexpected attack caught Harry off guard and he was knocked off his feet, Malfoy on top of him.

Not even a second later, the ministry officials had pounced upon Malfoy and hauled him away. As they dragged him forcibly across the Hall he yelled, "I'll get you for this, Potter. I swear I'll..."

But before he could finish his sentence, the two Ministry members had stunned Malfoy and were carrying his limp form out of the doors wearing very serious expressions.

Harry stared after them in shock. What had that been all about? Then he realised that Malfoy was probably being taken in for questioning regarding his father's whereabouts. What Malfoy wanted to pay him back for, Harry wasn't sure. He got to his feet, conscious that he had attracted everyone's attention and proceeded to go into the hall for some lunch.

"Madam Pomfrey managed to fix you up then," Ron commented staring at Harry's now normal hands as Harry reached their house table. "Hey - she did a better job on you than on Susie!"

"No she didn't," said Harry shortly, then sighed at the blank expressions on Ron and Hermione were wearing.

"Then how -"Hermione began but Harry cut across her. "It's kinda complicated. I'll explain later, ok?"

"But..." Ron protested.

"Later," Harry said firmly. He then sighed again before telling Ron and Hermione about his encounter with Malfoy out in the Entrance Hall.

"Yeah - we saw those guys walk in here too. Professor McGonagall took them over to Malfoy then they led him out. I bet it's got something to do with the article this morning." Ron told Harry confidently.

"But why does he want to get back at me?" Harry asked them, confused. "I mean, I know he normally wants revenge but he was livid - you should have seen him... It was almost like he thought I was responsible for what happened to his father, he was that mad."

"He probably does think you're responsible for his father getting caught," said Hermione testily. "Well, anything that doesn't go his way always seems to be blamed on you. I bet that he reckons you were the one who gave the Ministry an anonymous tip-off."

"But how would I know what his Dad gets up to and when?" Harry was looking surly.

"He probably thinks that you're spying on them or something... You were at Siramad's castle at the same time as his father was there and he doesn't know how you managed that little feat..."

Ron stared at Hermione incredulously. "You seem to have given this an awful lot of thought."

"No I haven't - it's just logical, that's all," she replied airily and they continued their meal in silence.

*