Harry Potter & The Blade of Carmen-Eversor

Chapter Seven

The last lesson of the day was Charms. Due to the steadying increase in the amount of students admitted into Hogwarts each year, there was more of a demand on the teacher's time than there had been previously. There were now too many students in need of the Professors' instruction for there to be many classes taught in single-house groups. This was why, for the first time since Harry's arrival at the school that the Gryffindors would be learning with the Hufflepuffs.

Ron was looking particularly pleased by this arrangement as Susie appeared at their table.

"Alright if I sit there?" she asked indicating the space on Ron's other side. Ron blushed and nodded his head, so she smiled at him warmly before settling herself down.

"Oh, I see that Madam Pomfrey healed your hands," Susie said, peering at Harry's hands in interest. "Wow and they're back to normal too! Mine are still ouchy... Why didn't the medicine work, do you know?"

Harry gazed down at his hands and lied, "I don't know why the first one didn't work, but the liquid one was what healed me - it just took a bit longer than Madam Pomfrey thought it would."

"Oh ok. What did Dumbledore want to talk to you about?" she asked him curiously. Ron and Hermione looked up at him and he felt himself redden. He didn't know why he did, but it seemed to get him out of answering as Susie added, "Um... It doesn't matter if it's something you'd rather not tell me - I have a bit of a habit of asking questions I shouldn't."

Harry smiled at her gratefully and turned his attention to the lesson, which was just commencing. The lesson turned out to be a boring one. They did no practical work but merely made long and complicated notes on Camouflaging Charms. At the end of the lesson Professor Flitwick handed Harry a list of all the things he must catch up on, though thankfully did not give him a date for it all to be completed by. As Flitwick moved on, Harry was left wondering if he was actually going to be able to eat or sleep at all this side of Christmas, what with the immense workload he had been presented with.

Hermione seemed to have sensed what he had been thinking as she said, "I'll give you a hand with catching up, if you want."

Harry stared at her for a moment, then replied, "Thanks. I don't know how I'm going to get all of it done - so your help would be great."

They walked slowly out of the classroom, shortly after Susie and Ron whom were discussing Quidditch fowls, heading for Gryffindor tower. Susie left Ron in order to go down a different corridor so he joined Harry and Hermione, who were strolling along at a comfortable pace with their little fingers interlocked discreetly.

"I wonder why Susie sat with us in Charms," Ron wondered aloud, looking almost hopeful. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and a smile as Harry replied, "I thought that would be have been obvious."

He grinned as Ron looked up, obviously confused and asked, "Why?"

"She's sweet on you, Ron? Didn't you notice?" Harry cried exasperatedly, then laughed at the effect his words had on his friend, whose face was now redder than a Gryffindor banner. Ron mumbled something to the effect of - he didn't think so somehow as they gave the Fat Lady the password and entered Gryffindor tower.

"We've got a bit of time before dinner," said Hermione checking her watch and sitting down at a table in the corner of the room. "Shall we start on your work now?"

"Might as well," Harry replied, groaning. "Can you believe Snape? He told me that I have to have this lot completed by Friday's lesson!" Harry bitterly pulled the large wad of paper from his bag and thumped it down onto the desk.

"I can well believe it," Ron retorted then turned indignantly to Hermione, "Why is it that you help Harry with his homework but you don't help me with mine?"

"I do help you with yours," said Hermione briskly.

"Yeah - you let me read through what you've done; not actually write it out for me!"

Harry had been about to say "Boyfriend's privilege" but stopped himself in time. Saying that would have been a sure way of getting Ron's temper up.

Hermione replied casually, "Well - Harry's been in the hospital wing for ages so he couldn't do the work. Whereas you'd just want me to do yours because you're too lazy to do it yourself."

Ron scowled at her and pulled some work out of his own bag, just to prove that he wasn't lazy when it came to homework. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him then turned back to making notes on indicating solutions, shrugging.

Quite some time later, when Harry was heartily sick of reading about all the different potions his class had covered while he had been away, Hermione put down her quill and leant back in her chair. "So, are you going to tell us now?"

Harry turned his attention away from the scroll he was just about to finish. "Tell you what?"

"What Dumbledore said of course!"

Ron put down his book too and looked up with interest. Harry wasn't sure what to say to them. He didn't want to worry them unnecessarily, so he told them all about the knife's other less known function and almost all of what Dumbledore had told him. He pointedly missed out the part about Dumbledore believing that the spell residing in him being Avada Kedavra. When he finished, Ron and Hermione just gazed at him speechlessly.

"So has Dumbledore figured out what the spell is?" Ron asked nervously.

Harry turned back to his almost complete scroll with an off-hand shrug of his shoulders and measured it. "Damn - the paper's too long. Er - no he didn't know what the spell was... Said that he couldn't be sure and would have to try and match any effects to a spell that might cause them."

Harry determinedly avoided their gaze. He was a poor liar most of the time and didn't want to look at either of them for fear that they would see through him. Instead he averted his eyes to his scroll and saw that the only way to make it fit on the reel was to cut it. He could almost feel the suspicious looks they were giving him as he delved into his bag in search of the pocket knife that Sirius had given him as a Christmas present many years ago.

"Does he have any ideas what the spell might be, Harry?" Hermione asked him slowly.

At first Harry didn't respond - he simply continued with cutting what he hoped was a straight line down one edge of his parchment with the blade.

"If he does, he didn't tell me," Harry replied evasively.

"Harry, I can tell you're hiding something. Please just tell us what he said," Hermione asked him quietly.

Harry sighed heavily and laid the knife down on the table. "He said that it was powerful and dangerous because it wasn't affected by any of Madam Pomfrey's remedies."

"Harry - what does he think it is?" she cried heatedly as Ron looked apprehensively between the two of them.

"I told you he doesn't - "

"Don't lie to me! What did he say?" she shouted, causing half the room to stare at her.

"Keep your voice down!" Ron hissed. "Look, Harry - she's not going to give up easily so you might as well just inform us of what Dumbledore thinks."

"I don't want to worry you," Harry returned dejectedly.

"Saying something like that is only going to make us worry," Hermione retorted grimly.

"Fine. He said that it seemed to be unblockable..."

Hermione's face, which had been flushed with emotion a moment ago, suddenly paled until hardly any colour remained. She fixed Harry with frightened eyes brimming with comprehension. Ron did not appear to have realised the full significance of what Harry had said. "So if it's unblockable what can be done to cure it?"

Hermione turned to Ron in a sad exasperation, "Haven't you worked it out, Ron? Dumbledore thinks that it's Avada Kedavra..."

Ron's mouth fell open in horror and he goggled at Harry as though he was already dead. Hermione, however, was gazing at Harry's gadget knife with tears in her eyes. Abruptly, her expression cleared and she said softly, "So is the spell in your blood then, seeing as the knife cut you?"

"I suppose," Harry replied quietly. "Does it matter where it is though? Isn't the fact that it's in me enough..."

He looked up at her and followed her line of sight. Her eyes were still locked on the pocket-knife. Before Harry realised what she was doing, Hermione had propelled herself forward and snatched up the knife. What she did with it once she had got it was simply to slash both her own hand and one of Harry's. He cried out as his palm suddenly exploded with pain. Blood seeped from the wound and splattered Harry's Potions homework. Harry immediately made to draw his hand to him, but Hermione was too quick for him and she clasped his injured palm to her bleeding one and interlocked fingers so he couldn't draw back.

"Hermione! What the hell are you doing?" moaned Ron in a quiet and stunned voice, eyes fixed nonplussed on their hands. Tears pulled down her cheeks as Harry grimaced, but still she did not let go. If anything, Hermione pressed her hand into his with more force.

Amazingly, no one else in the common room had noticed what was happening. Instead people just began getting leisurely up and heading for the portrait hole to go down to dinner. Harry felt very peculiar. For some reason this cut hurt more than his wound from the Carmen-Eversor had done, this surprised him considerably, as this cut certainly wasn't as deep or as serious as that one had been.

When he looked up next, Harry realised Hermione was trying to catch his eye. Her lip trembled, but whether that was because of the pain or not, Harry could not tell. He suspected it had something to do with what he had told her, but as he wasn't Hermione he wasn't to know the reasoning behind why she was reacting how she was.

"Please let go of me now," Harry said pleadingly. His arm was beginning to ache as she clutched his palm to her. He gently tried to prise their fingers apart, but Hermione let out an anguished sob and grabbed hold of the bleeding hands in her uninjured one and clamped it around them.

Harry turned to Ron who stared ashen-faced at the gruesome sight, and groaned, "Help me!"

Ron suddenly came to his senses and sprang forward while Hermione sobbed softly, "No! I have to be sure. Ron let go! Get off me!"

But Ron was stronger than she was and had forced her to release Harry from her vice-like grip. Cradling his hand to him, Harry whispered, "Why?"

"Because if you're going to die, then I want to too. I can't live without you. Now we share the same blood - the spell is in me as well," she replied stricken.

Harry slumped onto the table and closed his eyes, his breathing harsh and ragged. He was touched and saddened. If it was the Avada Kedavra curse, then surely she too would die. Then it was his fault... He'd as good as cast the spell on her himself...

Ron spoke in voice, which was suddenly very calm and almost empty, "Come on guys - we'd better go back to the hospital wing."

Harry raised his head and muttered, "No point - the healing potions don't work, remember?"

"Let's just go up there anyway, just in case," Ron replied gently.

Hermione sprang to her feet, "Yes let's - then we'll know for sure if the spell is in me, too!"

"I can't believe you just did this to me," Harry said despairingly as he got up.

"I'm selfish - I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

Ron gave Harry a look that was difficult to interpret. Harry thought he could discern envy and bitterness in it amongst the sadness and grief. Then he perceived that the glance was full of loneliness. If Harry and Hermione died, where would that leave Ron? It obviously hurt Ron that Hermione was prepared to kill herself without even considering him. This was why Harry nodded silently and followed the two of them from the now-empty tower.

When they reached the ward, Madam Pomfrey seemed to be just leaving it. The four of them met in the doorway and the nurse put her hands on her hips as she said severely, "What is it now, Potter? Really this is getting silly! I've got a good mind to just keep you in my ward permanently - at least then you won't be able to injure yourself..."

She halted abruptly as Harry and Hermione extended their arms, revealing their bleeding hands. "You had all better come in then."

And with that she ushered them inside to inspect the damage. Ron informed her of the events that had taken place and she pursed her lips. "I fear there is little I can do for either of you. But I will try all the same."

She bustled into her office and Harry lowered his gaze to the floor, staring through unseeing eyes at the red splatters he and Hermione were creating on the floor. When Madam Pomfrey scurried back into view once more she was carrying the tiny bottle of Mirus water.

"But I thought that was just for bruises," Harry blurted out as she dropped a minute shimmering droplet onto his gash.

"Mirus water is like phoenix tears; it can work on almost any type of wound, injury, ailment, and affliction," she replied gravely as she watched his hand for any sign of change. As suspected, there was none. She then allowed a drop to fall upon Hermione's outstretched palm and all of them waited with baited breath to see what would happen.

Hermione's hand remained exactly as it was; the spell was within her too. Ron sank faintly into a nearby chair and covered his face with his hands. Harry gazed up at the ceiling, blinking furiously as he felt tears threaten to fill his eyes.

When he did at last turn to Hermione, it was to find her pale face set and resolute, as she determinedly avoided his eyes for fear of his reaction. Harry could also see that she was far from happy.

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "I feel as though I ought to go and inform Dumbledore of the latest... development. He will undoubtedly want to speak with the three of you so please wait here while I fetch him."

She left the ward promptly and Hermione chanced a glance at Harry. He tried to give her a stony glare, but found himself unable to so tried to give her a half smile instead, however, he didn't seem to be able to manage that either. He just sighed and shook his head before turning to look at Ron who was still sat head in hands, not saying a word.

"Well...?" Hermione prompted nervously.

Ron looked up with glazed eyes. "Well what?"

"Someone say something - it's too quiet."

"What is there to say?" Ron replied bitterly. "I find out that one of my best friends is dying - we don't know how quickly - and in response to that my other best friend does the most stupid thing of her life and tries to kill herself too. So, what could I possibly have to say?"

"I'm sorry, Ron," she murmured softly.

"No you're not, so don't even pretend that you are. If you could go back in time now and change what you've just done - you wouldn't," he replied snappishly.

"You're right, I wouldn't... But that doesn't mean I'm not sorry for not stopping to think about how you or Harry feel, or how this is going to affect either of you." There was an earnestness in her voice that Harry couldn't bear to hear.

"Did you have to make the cut so deep?" Harry said thickly, sinking to the floor. His head was beginning to feel strange. "You know that healing potions don't work... Well, I suppose at least this way we can bleed to death without worrying when the spell will kick in."

Ron glared at Harry. "Look that isn't funny - just shut up, will you?"

"It wasn't mean to be funny, I was being serious," Harry said as he returned the glare. His vision was going blurring now too and an odd tingling sensation shot down his arm and into his injured palm. He glanced down and blinked blearily - the cut had gone.

A startled cry from Hermione followed, revealing that her hand too had returned to normal. She sat down on the floor next to Harry who was feeling very weak and shaky, and took his hand so that she could inspect it. Ron crouched down too, to see what she was looking at and let out a long low whistle. The cuts - both of them - were not just healed, but had left no indication that they had ever been there in the first place. The only reason - despite a dull throbbing in his hand - Harry knew that he had been injured was by the splatters of blood on the floor.

"What happened?" Hermione whispered shakily, "Where did the gashes go?"

Harry just stared at his hand in a bemused fashion and didn't reply. Shortly after Hermione had spoke, Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore returned to the hospital wing. There strode purposefully in and halted above the three on the ground.

Ron stood up quickly as Dumbledore shot them a questioning glance.

"Their cuts have healed, look," said Ron, grabbing hold of Harry by his upper arm and hauling him upright. Harry swayed dangerously, as he was thrust unsteadily upon his feet. He didn't understand why he should feel so giddy; it wasn't like the last time when he had lost a substantial amount of blood. With a slightly cross-eyed expression he turned to Dumbledore and showed him his hand.

Dumbledore, however, was looking at Hermione as though she had severely disappointed him. "Why did you do this?"

Hermione stood up but didn't answer. Instead she contemplated her shoes to abstain from seeing the saddened expression he fixed her with. When many minutes slipped soundlessly by, Ron answered for her in what was almost a growl, "She said she can't live without him."

Harry saw Hermione glare angrily at Ron who glowered back obdurately. He also saw that Dumbledore seemed to be positively furious with her. This puzzled him; why furious?

"Well, you may have to," he stated with a hushed fierceness, such a sense of power was radiating from him that Harry took a step back due to the force of it, which felt almost like a physical pressure being applied against him. "You've damn near killed him by what you've just done."

Hermione looked both horrified and startled as she then turned to Harry with a fleeting frightened look. "What? How?"

Dumbledore appeared to be on the brink of answering when Harry had suddenly diverted everyone's attention towards himself by collapsing limply to the floor. His head was spinning violently and he felt extremely weak - too weak to sit back up as Madam Pomfrey knelt by his side so instead just flopped meekly onto his back.

Harry closed his eyes and sensed Dumbledore get onto his knees beside him, "Can you still hear me, Harry?" he asked softly but clearly.

Harry's eyes flickered open again, and he tried to speak but found he couldn't get his words out. His muscles seem to be seizing up, yet he felt barely any pain, just the persistent throbbing in his palm. Harry's vision too was becoming hazy as Dumbledore's anxious face swam in and out of focus.

"What's happening?" Ron whispered frantically, "What's wrong with him?"

Dumbledore didn't answer but took Harry's hand and peered at it closely. "Did you use the Mirus water on this, Poppy, or something else?"

"I used the Mirus water again. Was that wrong of me? I just thought that it might help as it did last time..." she replied in concern.

"No it wasn't wrong of you, though I don't think it was the Mirus water that helped the first time." Then seeing that Madam Pomfrey was about to query this he continued, "It is by all means possible that it could have been what healed him earlier, but I have my doubts. Harry, does your hand hurt at all?"

Harry blinked and tried to nod but seemed to have trouble moving anything now. His consciousness was beginning to fade and he struggled desperately to keep awake, confused as to what it was that was making him feel so rough.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione standing staring at him with her hands clamped over her mouth as Ron asked more urgently, "Professor please tell us what's going on - what's happening?"

"The spell is beginning to reach full potency - it looks as though we are soon going to find out whether it is Avada Kedavra or not..."

Harry suddenly started to feel blind panic - wasn't there something that someone could do? He saw Hermione blanch in shock at Dumbledore's words and he desperately wanted to reassure her that he was alright, but obviously he couldn't because he didn't seem to be able to do anything anymore. Then Hermione spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper, "Is the spell not in me too?"

"Yes - you share the spell now also," Dumbledore responded without taking his eyes off Harry.

"Isn't there something you can do to stop this or slow it down?" Ron wailed wretchedly and dropped to the floor next to Madam Pomfrey. Dumbledore shook his head and Harry felt even vaguer, knowing that whatever the spell was going to do was going to happen soon. He closed his eyes and lay motionless, waiting for the spell to take effect.

Had he been able to move Harry would have leapt in surprise as Hermione suddenly shouted excitedly, "The boy who lives will live again!"

Someone gasped - Harry couldn't tell who it was, though he suspected that it had probably been Ron. He then wondered what had happened to Professor Trelawney, after he had taken her to the hospital wing last night... Harry then wondered if it could possibly have only been the night before - so much had happened since.

"So does that mean he's going to be alright?" Ron asked eagerly, hopefully. His voice breaking through Harry's thoughts.

There was no verbal reply made, but Harry presumed Dumbledore had either nodded or shaken his head. Unfortunately, before Harry could work out which it had been he felt a searing pain in his leg and in his hands and promptly blacked out.

*

"Is it the pain again, my Lord?" Wormtail enquired wringing his mismatched hands nervously, and shrinking back into the wall away from his master.

Harry was nonplussed. Where was he now? A minute ago he had been lying on the floor of the hospital wing anticipating for the spell to take effect and now he suddenly found himself in a stone walled room that was bare from furniture save a spindly chair and dusty cabinet. Harry looked at Wormtail and followed his gaze. Beneath two tall angular gothic-style windows stood the person Harry was least pleased to see, Voldemort.

When Harry arrived, Voldemort had been staring out of one of the windows but now he turned to face Wormtail. Harry saw that his face was paler than ever and though he tried to appear disdainful, there was a hint of unease in his eyes. Harry was intrigued - he had never seen Voldemort look uneasy before.

"Yes; that is the third time it has happened - but this time it was only in my right hand - no where else. Did you feel nothing?" Voldemort replied coldly.

"N-no, my Lord," Wormtail muttered, cowering back further for fear he had said the wrong thing.

"You are sure?"

Wormtail nodded looking frightened and Voldemort turned his back on him.

During the silence that followed, Harry took some time to assess the situation. He was standing more or less in the middle of the room and neither of the two men in there with him had any idea that he was there. This seemed to rule out the possibility of spirit-travel... Unless of course only part of his soul had been released, then that would account for their being unaware of his presence. He remembered Dumbledore telling him that when only part of the soul ventures forth from its body it is wispy and indistinct; therefore indistinguishable from the surrounding air.

"That is a total of three times in just the space of six days. I wonder what can be causing it... It is strange that it all seemed to have started with Harry Potter's unexpected appearance here," Voldemort wondered aloud.

"Do you - do you think this has something to do with the boy then?" Wormtail mumbled almost inaudibly.

Voldemort turned around once more and spat coolly. "Of course it has something to do with him. What else could it have to do with?"

Harry stared at the two of them. Unless he was very much mistaken, Voldemort seemed to be experiencing pain when Harry did, since the incident with the knife at least. That had been six days ago... And Voldemort's right hand hurt just now, as his own had done.
Harry was distracted as Voldemort started speaking again. "Has the new recruit still not returned from last night's expedition?"

Wormtail shook his head jerkily as his master's eyes flashed dangerously.

"So, he failed his first task and has deserted us... He must be taught a lesson; all my followers must show unwavering faith and obedience..."

"But my Lord - the scouts said they saw him run from the lake and enter the forest, badly wounded. They also saw the boy in the grounds last night... Perhaps he -"

"Quiet!" snapped Voldemort. "Perhaps he did meet the boy, but the fact remains that he still failed me. You must realise that I will not allow for it to happen again..."

Wormtail nodded fervently, but looking appalled by something that Harry had not a clue what.

Harry felt a sudden jerk from somewhere in side him and understood that he was going to go back to his body now. This frustrated him slightly as he had been hearing interesting information since his unforeseen arrival here. Sure enough, seconds later Harry left the scene in a merging swirl of colour that abruptly dissolved into darkness.

*

Harry felt the cold hard floor of the hospital wing beneath him and sighed. He sighed partly with relief that he had returned safely and was still alive, and partly out of annoyance that he hadn't been able to find out more information when he was at wherever it was that Voldemort and Wormtail had been. Blearily he opened his eyes and saw Dumbledore sat by him on one side, while Ron was on his other. He saw their anxious faces break into relieved smiles.

"You gave us a bit of a scare then, Harry," said Dumbledore as he got to his feet and strode a few feet away to where Madam Pomfrey was. Harry propped himself up on his elbows and saw that Hermione had apparently fainted. Madam Pomfrey was next to her, trying to revive her with the muggle method of smelling-salts as her remedy did not seem to have had any affect.

"You alright?" Ron asked, peering at him cautiously.

Harry nodded distractedly, staring at Hermione's limp form in concern. "What happened to her?

"Fainted - that's all. She seemed to think that you'd died..." Ron replied wryly.

Suddenly remembering what had been said, Harry asked Ron suspiciously, "And did I?"

Ron gave him an amused look, "No - for a moment we thought you had... "The boy who lived will live again", sprang to mind but it turned out you were ok. Dumbledore reckons you spirit-traveled again..."

"I did," Harry replied shortly, feeling somewhat relieved to find that he hadn't died after all.

"Well? What did you see?" Ron asked him keenly.

"Voldemort and Wormtail... They were - they were..." Harry trailed off, ignoring Ron's flinch, and suddenly realised that the details of what he had seen were slipping away from him. He immediately tried to catch hold of the details more quickly, but this only resulted in them falling out of reach faster. So Harry stopped thinking about the dream and instead tried to clear his mind. It had the desired effect as the details began to drift slowly back to him.

"I saw Voldemort and Wormtail. When I got there Wormtail was asking if Voldemort if he was in pain again, or something like that. And Voldemort said something about he was - in his right hand... He also mentioned feeling pain twice before, starting with when they found me at Siramad's castle. Voldemort seemed to think that I might have done something to him... It seemed to me like he was feeling pain at the same time as me.

"They also talked about a new recruit who had failed him, but I can't really remember that part... Voldemort was going to teach whoever it was a lesson but Wormtail didn't seem too happy about it, for some reason."

Ron was looking at him amazed. "Where did this happen? Were you in the same room as them? Didn't they see you?"

"I don't know where it was, looked like a castle maybe - it had stone walls anyway. Yes, I was in the same room as them but they didn't see me," Harry said in response to Ron's questions then turned to Dumbledore who had come over to listen as Harry related what he had seen. "Did I only partly go there for them to not know I was there?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"And - what's going on with the spell? I suppose it wasn't Avada Kedavra then, seeing as I'm still here..." Harry asked feeling a little confused that he didn't seem to have suffered any effects - besides the spirit-travel - since the spell reached full potency.

"To be honest, Harry, I have absolutely no idea what is going on with the spell. It has definitely reached full strength, but I cannot yet discern what it has done to you. As far as I can tell it hasn't had any effect whatsoever, but that can't be the case. I think we're just going to have to wait and see how things develop. I would like for you to inform me as soon as you notice anything out of the ordinary, no matter how insignificant you may think it, as it may be of the utmost importance."

Harry nodded at Dumbledore then turned to see if Hermione was awake yet or not. She was still out cold, which worried Harry slightly. "Are you sure that she's only fainted? I mean, shouldn't she have woken up by now?"

Dumbledore too turned in Hermione's direction, a thoughtful expression spreading across his face. "She will be fine. However, she too seems to be resisting any healing drafts regardless of their purpose as you are."

"Why is that? I mean, why do they not get healed one minute then the next they almost miraculously are fine again?" Ron asked in some confusion. Dumbledore did not answer, but stroked his beard pensively. Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered glance, as, after several minutes had crawled by, Dumbledore had still said nothing.

In the end Ron just shrugged and Harry tried a different topic. "So this mysterious pain that Voldemort's feeling - is that in any way related to when I feel pain? Since being stabbed by the knife that is..."

"I believe so, Harry. It certainly sounds like it could be related. I'm sure it has something to do with this spell, but still I cannot see a spell that would behave in such a way, as this one seems to be... It seems to be resilient to healing remedies, yet something is healing your wounds all the same. So is it the spell that's doing the mending? Or is it simply being healed because the spell is not powerful enough to resist the healing drafts permanently?" Dumbledore mused aloud. He seemed to be talking more to himself than Harry, so Harry reverted his attention back to Hermione as she came to.

"Ah - I see you are awake," said Dumbledore after she let out a soft moan and put a hand up to her forehead. "Harry, Ron - would you mind leaving now. I need to speak to Miss Granger about a matter of great importance."

Harry was stunned. "You mean I don't need to stay in the hospital wing over night?"

"Do you feel you need to?" Dumbledore surveyed Harry with a slight smile.

"No," Harry replied a little too quickly. "It's just that I normally end up having to sat in so I just assumed... Never mind."

Harry and Ron left the ward both wondering the same things.

"Why was Dumbledore so cross with Hermione?" Ron asked Harry curiously.

Harry shrugged. "And why did he seem to think that she had almost killed me?"

*

Harry and Ron waited in the common room for Hermione until almost midnight, getting some of their homework done in the meantime. However, Hermione still hadn't returned.

"I wonder what it is that Dumbledore could have to say to her that would take almost three and a half hours!" Ron said incredulously.

"I don't know, but I'd bet you my Firebolt that when she does come back, she won't tell us a thing," Harry replied sounding irritated.

Ron shook his head darkly, "She does seem to be keeping a lot of secrets from us lately, doesn't she?"

Harry nodded and scrawled a brief note to Hermione to let her know that they had waited up for her. But had decided that once it had reached midnight that perhaps they ought to get some sleep; especially seeing that Harry had already had one incredibly late night and would be having another the following day because the Gryffindor's were scheduled to have an Astronomy lesson commencing at midnight. He and Ron then gathered up their stuff and headed for their dormitory.

Only Neville had gone to bed so far - Dean and Seamus were still in the common room playing Exploding snap.

Harry was just getting into his bed when he clapped a hand to his forehead, annoyed with himself.

"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked him quizzically as Harry pulled his winter cloak on over his pajamas.

"I've forgotten to feed Fang and Merula," Harry returned grumpily. The last thing he felt like doing now was traipsing out into the cold night to feed a dog and a horse, who were both going to be indignant about being neglected.

Ron groaned. "Wait a minute - I'd better come with you."

*

The two boys crossed the grounds vigilantly, both with their wands out. The full moon had yet to wane and after last night, Harry was going to take no chances about being caught off guard by a werewolf again.

However, it was without incident that they reached Hagrid's hut. Though once or twice Harry got the feeling that something unseen was watching them from the shadows of the Forbidden Forest.

"Poor Fang," Harry muttered as he unlocked the front door. "I haven't been to see him all day - I bet he's starving and desperate to get out..."

"Well, it's lucky for him - and you - that I came down to feed him this morning before you were up and at lunch while you were in the hospital wing, then isn't it. Imagine what Hagrid'd do to you if he knew you weren't taking very good care of his beloved Fang!" Ron said teasingly.

*

By the time Harry and Ron had seen to Fang and each of their horses, and had once more returned to Gryffindor tower, it was coming up for one o'clock in the morning. Judging by the fact that her work and bag remained exactly where she had left them earlier that evening, Hermione had still not returned from her talk with Dumbledore.

Harry's curiosity really was ablaze now. He couldn't see what Dumbledore would have to say to Hermione that would keep her from returning to her dormitory at one o'clock. But then, he thought, perhaps Dumbledore had finished talking to her and she had gone somewhere else since... However, this didn't seem too likely either, considering Hermione was not one to go for just general rule-breaking and so would therefore probably not have gone wandering off at this time off night when everywhere save Gryffindor tower was out of bounds to her until the morning.

Harry was still trying to fathom the mystery of where Hermione could have gone to, when he fell asleep.

Perhaps it was because his mind had still remained active when he had retired, or perhaps it was for some other reason that was unknown to him, but that night Harry had a very strange dream.

It started off with him standing ankle-deep in the lake wearing his pajamas at what looked as though it was the early hours of the morning - possibly about four o'clock. Harry couldn't work out why he should be standing in the frosty water sometime in the middle of the night - the dream had somehow quite conveniently managed to avoid explaining this. Though Harry did realise that he seemed to be waiting for something.

What that something was, Harry did not have long to wait until he found out. Just then the surface of the lake rippled in anticipation of something, gentle ripples at first then gradually becoming quite violent, so that Harry felt cascading waves of icy water smacking against his lower thighs uncomfortably.

Harry tried to turn around and walk out of the water, but soon found that he couldn't prise the soles of his feet from off the lake's pebbly bottom. He was therefore forced to remain where he was and endure the slapping of the chilly water.

The waves unexpectedly vanished, leaving the lake resembling a millpond with its extreme tranquillity. Then all of a sudden, a woman wearing billowing robes of a rich purple colour, embroidered with intricate fine gold stitching, rose up out of the depths in the very heart of the centre of the lake.

She strode purposefully towards Harry, walking on the surface of the suddenly glass-like water, her long golden-blonde hair fanning out behind her, despite the fact that there was no wind. Harry stared at her in undisguised awed amazement - she had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes upon.

About three paces in front of him she halted, surveying him all over with a masked expression and Harry experienced an odd sensation; as though he had just been x-rayed her satin-grey eyes. After a moment, her face broke into a warm and satisfied smile. She then kissed him twice on each cheek and pronounced, "Yes; you will do. You will do just fine."

Harry contemplated her with mystified eyes. Catching the expression of his mien she said, "Oh, how rude of me! I should have introduced myself; my name is Camellia, Harry."

Harry didn't ask how she knew his name but simply proceeded to look at her a little blankly.

"I have very little time here, so I will only tell you what I must. You have been chosen to perform a great task, which will perhaps determine the fate of the world. There is no one else equal to the task, so you must appreciate that if you are to fail - the world as we know it will be doomed.

"My purpose in coming here is first to warn you that you must be very careful of what you do, now that you know you are the Defender; do not take any unnecessary risks. I am also here to help you save yourself. It has been foretold that there will come a time when you are in mortal peril but Freedom cannot save you. You must therefore do that alone."

Harry took in every word she said but did not yet register their meaning. He watched mutely as she took a seven-petalled white blossom from a halo, consisting of other such flowers, that was perched jauntily upon her flowing mane. Then she took one of Harry's hands in hers and placed the flower gently onto his palm.

"Take this blossom and drop it into my spring." She then took a tiny cut-diamond phial out of a pouch tied around her waist. "Then collect some of the water in this bottle. You must do all of this at midnight on the night of the first full moon of any month. Keep it safe until the time comes to use it."

Camellia dropped the bottle onto his out-stretched hand next to the flower, then closed his fingers around them. Finally, she kissed his hand softly. "My time here is almost over - but Harry, remember that blood is thicker than water. Be brave, be strong and most of all never give in - not even at your dying breath. Let Fate guide you down your path..."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Camellia put one of her slender fingers to his lips and whispered, "Do not ask me, Harry. Trust that you will know what to do when the time comes."

She then clasped both her hands together and cast her eyes skyward. Instantly she disappeared from sight, leaving only a faint glowing light where she had been standing moments before.

Harry was on the brink of wondering what that had all been about when the scene suddenly changed. He was no longer stood in the lake, but instead found himself running full tilt through a dark and rugged forest. He was just considering slowing to a stop when he heard a series of lustful howls resound barely one hundred yards behind him.

This inspired him to keep sprinting although he could feel his muscles crying out in protest, particularly those in the leg that had been pierced by Carmen-Eversor. Harry raced on, not daring to look back but simply focusing on getting away from the wolf-pack that was hunting him. He didn't know where he was so tried to think of the best place to make for when in unknown territory. Unfortunately, every time he seemed to get close to formulating a plan, a gruesome image of wolves ripping him limb from limb kept popping up and distracting him.

After what was perhaps five minutes of draining running like this, with the wolves gaining on him all the time, Harry came to a clearing in the forest and stumbled to a stand still. On all sides about twenty or thirty wolves were slinking out from the trees with their hackles raised menacingly, encircling him. He realised that the ones who had chased him had directed him straight to this clearing with the intention of trapping him. It had worked - he was trapped. There was no way he could escape from them without either his wand or the Carmen-Eversor, both of which were not on his person at present. Typical, he thought bitterly, why is it I never have my wand when I really need it?

He spun around on the spot, desperately seeking for a way out that he knew wasn't going to be there. It was as his eyes scanned his surroundings that he noticed something about the wolves. They were not really wolves at all, but actually werewolves. And each and every one of them was sporting a leaf-green collar of a snake eating it's tail.

One of the werewolves stepped forwards and lay down at Harry's feet, with its eyes fixed docilely on Harry's face. Harry edged backwards apprehensively then stopped in shock as he saw that the snake collar was no collar, but a real snake. The snake took its tail from its mouth and turned to face Harry with a shrewd gleam in its eye.

"You are Harry Potter, yesss?" the snake lisped questioningly.

Harry nodded silently, staring at the snake with an appalled look on his face. The snake tilted its head on one side as it said, "My massster has a proposssition to make you. Will you hear it?"

Harry didn't particularly want to hear any propositions that the snake might make but decided that it would at least buy him some time to come up with an escape plan if he humoured the snake. This was therefore why he nodded a second time.

The snake stared at him suspiciously, "They call you Little-Tongue yet I have heard you ssspeak none of my language. Are you truly a parsssel mouth?"

In response Harry hissed in snake language, "Who calls me Little-Tongue?"

"Ah! Ssso it isss true! Your quessstion isss irrelevant - many call you by that name..."

"I've never heard anyone call me that," Harry interrupted stubbornly.

The snake's eyes flashed dangerously. "You will not interrupt me again if you know what isss good for you. My massster wanted to asssk you in perssson, but he knew that you would never consssent to lisssten if he were to deliver his proposssal. That isss why I ssshall be the one to asssk you. You are one of usss, naturally but your mind has been corrupted by ignorant ramblingsss - come join usss, your true alliesss. Enough with the pretenssse - you want power and my massster will give it to you... All you need to do isss deliver the old fool up at the ssschool into our trap. What do you sssay?"

"You honestly think that I'd be tempted by what you've just said to me?" Harry sneered at the mistake. "Well, then your more stupid than you look. I presume your master is Voldemort? Well, nothing - nothing - will ever make me go over to the Dark side."

"How about I put our proposssal to you in sssimpler termsss; join us or die."

"I will never join you!" Harry spat insulted that anyone could have even entertained the possibility of his considering joining.

The snake replied in a disappointed voice, "Very well. But it is a pity - you would have made a great Death Eater... Oh, well - goodbye, Harry Potter."

The snake tucked its tail in its mouth, between its teeth once more. The werewolf sprang forward and Harry flung his arms out to defend himself, crying out as the jaws clamped tightly around his right hand.

*

Harry's eyes snapped open. He was lying on his side in his four-poster bed with his hands up on his pillow by his. The dormitory window was open and the curtains were fluttering playfully in the draft. Harry found that he was bathed in strong, crisp moonlight and noticed that someone had drawn the hangings back on one side of his bed.

Harry then became aware of the way the palm of his right hand was throbbing painfully, so he carefully brought it into the moonlight and saw to his very great relief that it was not covered in teeth marks. Though he could discern a faint silver line that spanned the length of his palm, exactly where Hermione had sliced it earlier. He thought this was a bit strange but didn't ponder on it too much, now that he had reassured himself that he hadn't been bitten by the werewolf he had discovered that there was something clasped in his left hand. Carefully, he opened his fingers. There resting on his palm was a small white flower, comprising of seven petals that fluttered slightly in the breeze from the window, and a miniature bottle made of diamond that sparkled in the moonlight with quaint beauty.

Harry sat up in bed and reached for his glasses. He then examined the treasures in his hand more closely, wondering as he did so what had just happened. It certainly had not felt like he was spirit-travelling - it had been much more like a dream, but then again it couldn't only have been a dream when the things he had been given in it had materialised into his hand, could it?

No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't work out why he had the gifts from his dream but not the bite - it just didn't make sense. While he was very happy that he had received the gifts and not the bite, it did baffle him somewhat. There didn't seem to be a feasible explanation. And then there was the question of the window being open and his hangings pulled back, because the window had definitely been closed when he'd gone to sleep... So had someone come in and opened the window and his curtains before putting the trinkets into his hand? But if someone had done that, the first questions that struck Harry was who would have done so and why. Then he realised that even if someone had put the things into his hand, it didn't explain how he had dreamed about them.

Harry shivered and put his gifts down on his bedside table as he strode over to the window to shut it. He lingered at it, peering out across the lake in the hopes that some clue, which would help to explain what had happened, my remain. However, he saw nothing. It was quiet out in the grounds and the only thing that disturbed the surface of the water was the autumn breeze.

Wearily Harry drew the curtains surrounding the window shut, blacking out most of the moonlight, which to Harry was a good thing right now. The full moon shedding its milky glow reminded him about the werewolf part of the dream and he gave an involuntary shudder, glancing down at his hand once more just to check that no teeth marks had appeared. Still there were none and Harry became uncomfortably aware that one of his legs was aching profoundly, just above the knee; it was the one that had been cut by Carmen-Eversor. This wasn't a good sign seeing as it was supposed to have been healed.

Harry crossed blindly over to his bed in the darkness and plonked himself down on it. Before he actually lay back down, he fumbled to put the blossom and the diamond phial into the drawer of his bedside cabinet - they could lead to awkward questions should any of his room-mates happen to spy them...

Worried that he might forget what had occurred in his dream, Harry went over the details again in his mind. He need not have bothered, for someone had performed a spell on him that night, which would mean that he would never forget the details of his dream. But then, Harry wasn't to know that.

*

Once again Harry was late getting up the next morning and though he was tired, he could tell that Hermione was utterly exhausted. Yesterday morning she had asked him over breakfast if he had slept at all the previous night, but now it was Harry's turn to ask Hermione the very same question.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" he said, looking at her worriedly as she glanced up blearily with a pale complexion except for deep dark circles beneath her eyes.

"Not much," she admitted.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell us what Dumbledore talked to you about?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry - I can't," she replied yawning widely.

"Well, we were just pretty curious as to what Dumbledore would have to say to you that would take until gone one o'clock in the morning!" said Ron exasperatedly.

Hermione looked confused for a moment then blushed slightly. "What Dumbledore had to say to me didn't take over four hours, Ron!"

It was Ron's turn to look confused. "So where were you then if you weren't with Dumbledore?"

Hermione shot Harry a meaningful half-glance before turning a very bright red, and proceeded to ignore the question. Harry was hit by a sudden suspicion - perhaps Hermione had been the one to put the flower and the bottle in his hand. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her before making a start on his toast.

It took Harry a moment to realise that Ron was grinning broadly to himself. "What are you looking so happy about?"

"Oh - nothing much - we've got Herbology first that's all..." he replied as his ears reddened. Harry could immediately see why Ron was suddenly so cheerful; Susie.

The three of them made their way down to the Greenhouses in a rush straight after breakfast. They managed to arrive on time, but only just.

"Now class, you will be continuing to collect the Mordax Gossympinus's cotton, but we will also be discussing what its properties are," Professor Sprout informed them as they entered the Greenhouse.

The first half of the lesson was merely making notes on what Professor Sprout told them about the plant. Basically, she told the class that the wool is surprisingly resilient to spells. It was often incorporated into garments of clothes and was also made into clothes on its own on rare occasions. These clothes were designed for people who were likely to have any manner of spells, charms or incantations directed at them. Aurors were particularly partial to the wool of the Mordax Gossympinus, as they were the ones who had to deal with being hexed and jinxed most often.

However, one of the disadvantages of the wool was its price tag. As it is difficult to obtain large yields of the cotton due to the aggressive tendencies of the plant, it was quite expensive to get hold of. It also takes an awful lot of the cotton to make clothes out of it, resulting in it being even more costly.

"Next lesson we will be studying the wool as a potion ingredient. However, due to its resilience to spells and such it is only used in a handful of potions," Professor Sprout told them, having finished her talk on Mordax Gossympinus. "I would like you to get into the groups you were in yesterday and commence with gathering more wool from your plants."

Once stationed at their shrub, Susie said brightly, "Alright then - Ron, Hermione - you guys can act as the bait today as Harry and I did it yesterday."

They stared at her horrified. She then grinned broadly at them. "I was just kidding! After what happened yesterday, I don't think my bright idea was quite so brilliant after all... So I've come up with a new one. Using bait seemed to work pretty effectively, so I just thought that perhaps we ought to use bait that isn't living!"

Hermione and Ron both looked exceptionally relieved as Ron asked, "So what do we use as bait instead then?"

Susie rummaged around in her bag for a moment, before finally bringing out two reasonably long, fat sticks with dragon-hide gloves attached to the end. Harry laughed and said, "Great idea - nice touch with the gloves!"

She too laughed at her funny-looking creation.

The rest of the lesson passed relatively uneventfully and Susie's new invention proved to be very effective. It wasn't long before they were heading back up to the castle. Susie's next lesson was History of Magic. As this was on the same floor as Harry, Ron and Hermione's next lesson - Defense Against the Dark Arts - she walked with them; actually with Ron. The pair of them were once again a little way ahead of Harry and Hermione, so Harry took the opportunity to ask Hermione about where she had disappeared off to once she had left Dumbledore.

"So where was it that you went last night, then?" he asked her quietly. He had deliberately waited until Ron was out of earshot as Hermione had not seemed to want to explain her whereabouts in front of him. Harry suspected that this was because she had been to see him and placed the trinkets in his hand.

Hermione gave Harry a funny look that more-or-less said 'did you really need to ask?' but replied anyway, "I was having one of my extra sessions with Professor McGonagall. Why do you ask?"

"Oh!" Harry said loudly causing Susie and Ron to look round in interest. Harry then began to blush as he had jumped to completely the wrong conclusion. "No reason - just curious."

Hermione frowned at him, trying to figure out why he had gone red, then said - "Where did you think I was?"

"Um...Nowhere," Harry replied unconvincingly. Hermione smirked at him slightly as Ron and Susie stopped to let them catch up so that they could join the conversation. Both of them looked quite keen on trying to find out why Harry was blushing. This only served to make Harry feel even more hot in the face.

The remainder of Harry's day turned out to be remarkably tame, which was a welcome change to all the action-packed ones Harry seemed to have been encountering lately.

As their last lesson of the normal scheduled day - they still had an Astronomy lesson at midnight - had been Care of Magical Creatures, Harry, Ron and Hermione had stayed behind in order to see to Fang, Barraby and Merula earlier than they had been over the past couple of days.

While Ron was off seeing to Barraby, Harry asked Hermione - "So what's the big deal about not wanting Ron to know that you've been having extra lessons in Transfiguration?"

She shrugged grumpily and so Harry supposed that it was probably because she was still smarting about the fact that Ron had done something better than she had for a change. He therefore decided to let the conversation drop and didn't say much else until he, Ron and Hermione were once more sat around a table in a secluded corner of the common room.

"I had a bit of a weird dream last night, but then I'm not too sure it was a dream..." Harry said thoughtfully as he grew tired of trying to complete his endless amount of potions catch-up work.

"Oh?" Ron replied mildly without looking up from his Transfiguration homework that was due in the next day.

Harry began to describe how he had been standing in the water on the edge of the lake, when suddenly this woman, Camellia, appeared from the water itself. He was just about to start telling them what she had said to him, when Hermione out up a hand, indicating for him to stem his flow. "This lady - what was she wearing?"

Harry stared at her, taken aback by the odd question. "Deep purple robes with - "

"Golden coloured embroidery, right?"

"Yes," said Harry looking at her blankly, wondering how on earth she had known that.

"Wait here a minute." And with that she darted off up to her dormitory. When she returned she had a large book tucked under one arm. Once she had settled herself back into her seat, she began riffling through the pages, evidently looking for something. Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered glance but didn't pass any comment on what she was doing; instead they both waited patiently for her to find what she was looking for. Hermione flicked to a page somewhere near the middle of the book, then held it up for them to see.

"Did her robes look like this?" she asked, indicating a picture of two people standing shoulder to shoulder, wearing exactly the same still of robes that Camellia had worn.

"Yes - how did you know?" he asked incredulously.

"Well - the way you described her sudden appearance reminded me of something I read ages ago..." Hermione replied quietly. "The lady in your dream was an angel, Harry."

Harry looked stunned. "But I thought that angels wore white gowns, had little golden halos and had gleaming white wings."

"Some do - what they wear depends on their rank. Anyway - carry on with telling us about your dream."

"Oh... Um... Right..." mumbled Harry, trying to remember where it was he had got to. "Well, she told me that I have been chosen to perform a great task; one that will determine the fate of the world - apparently. She said that I was the only person who could do the task so if I failed then that was it - no one else could save the situation... Um... She called me the 'Defender' or something - whatever that means - and told me not to take unnecessary risks.

"She also told me that sometime in the near future I am going to be in mortal peril but 'Freedom' wouldn't be able to help me - I'd have to save myself. She then gave me - hold on I'll go and get them for you."

"Hold up - you'll go get them? But wasn't this a dream? How can you 'go get them?'" Ron asked bewildered.

"Give me a minute and I'll show you..." With that Harry tore off up to the seventh year boys dormitory to retrieve the bottle and flower. When he returned he put them down on the desk and watched Ron and Hermione's stunned faces with some amusement.

"She told me that I must put the flower into her spring then collect some of the water in this phial, but I have to do it at midnight on the first full moon of any month.

"The last things she said to me were to be brave, be strong, never give up and blood is thicker than water... After that she just disappeared again. It looked almost like she had disapparated, but it was more as though she had simply faded away."

Hermione was particularly thoughtful and apprehensive, but there was a resigned and resolute expression on her face. "If you are going to be in danger and you must use this water stuff to revive yourself - will that be how 'the boy who lived will live again' part of Professor Trelawney's prophecy will be fulfilled?"

"Maybe," said Harry shrugging. "Who knows - we all thought that that part of the prediction was going to be carried out yesterday..."

"So what's your task then, Harry?" Ron asked him looking awed.

Harry shrugged a second time. "I don't know - Camellia said that I would know what to do when the time comes - but I'm betting that its got something to do with Vol - sorry - You-Know-Who.

There was a thoughtful pause for a moment then - "And where is this spring that you have to drop the flower into?"

Hermione answered before Harry could have a chance to. "Harry - did you say that the lady's name was Camellia?" he nodded, confirming that it had been. "Then it is probably Camellia's fountain that you'll have to go to, in order to get the water."

Harry sighed. "I think I've seen enough of Camellia's fountain, to be honest."

Ron appeared puzzled. "Why?"

"Because it was going to Camellia's fountain last Christmas that got me into this whole situation... Siramad told me the PrÃ'cerius after hearing me make that damn wish at Camellia's fountain. Who knows what might have happened this year, had I not gone there..."

"But you will go there to get the water, won't you Harry?" Hermione asked him looking very worried. "I mean - Camellia said that you'd need the water to save yourself."

"Yes - I suppose I will. Well, it would be ungrateful not to seeing as she took the trouble to give me these things," he said with a sigh as he looked at the gifts she had presented to him. Harry looked up, as he suddenly remembered something. "There's still more of my dream that I haven't told you."

Harry told them of how he had been standing in the lake, then almost immediately after Camellia had disappeared from sight he had suddenly found that he was running through a forest being chased by a pack of wolves. He told Ron and Hermione of how the wolves had pursued him into this clearing where they had surrounded him and he had realised that they were in fact not just wolves but really werewolves - all wearing the snake collar. He described to them what the snake had said and ended his story with the werewolf biting his hand.

"So that's part of Professor Trelawney's prediction fulfilled..." Hermione mused to herself.

Harry stared at her and asked eagerly - "Which part? What does it have to do with Professor Trelawney's prediction?"

"Never mind," she responded quickly. Harry glared furiously at her. "You always do that! Half tell us something then change your mind and stop - it's so frustrating!"

Hermione ignored him and said instead, "It seems that we have found out what You-Know-Who wants with Lupin."

"What?" Ron asked curiously.

"Well, You-Know-Who has suddenly got a pack of werewolves in his ranks so isn't it obvious? He wants Lupin because he's a werewolf. Exactly what You-Know-Who wants with a troop of werewolves, I don't know. But..."

"Ok - wait a minute. My brain can't cope with all this amount of information at once. Right - the first thing I want to know is how could I have a dream and wake up to find that some of the objects from it have materialised into my hand. Any ideas?"

Hermione rested her chin on her hers for a moment, apparently deep in thought, then sat up again. "My guess is that Camellia really is an angel and she actually visited you last night. Angels can do this thing where they communicate with people inside their dreams, so I reckon she came here, put the flower and bottle in your hand and told you what to need do with them while you were asleep. That way she can explain it more efficiently as she was controlling what you saw. If you'd been awake it probably would have taken too long to explain because you would have kept interrupting..."

Ron, Harry noticed, was looking at Hermione in rapt amazement. After a brief pause he spoke, still looking awed. "Hermione, I think you read too much! The amount of information you seem to be able to absorb and assimilate is astounding!"

Hermione flushed, looking rather flattered.

"Well, I suppose if she did pay me a visit then that explains not only how the bottle and flower came to be in my hand, but also why the window was open and my hangings pulled back..." Harry said pensively. He then acquired a slightly dreamy, almost wistful expression as he saw again an image of the beautiful lady.

Hermione gave him a playful cuff about his ear and a slight smile as he cried out indignantly, "Hey! What was that for, eh?"

Hermione replied sardonically, "Harry, if you're going to look that misty eyed over somebody, kindly let it either be because you were thinking about me, or wait until I'm not there to see it."

Harry blushed a little then gave her a guilty grin before saying smoothly, "And what makes you think it wasn't about you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes jokingly. "I think the minor fact that I'm not a petite and stunning blonde may just have something to do with it."

Ron snorted and Hermione scowled at him as Harry hastily changed the subject. "Just out of interest, why have you been reading about angels?"

Harry looked inquiringly at Hermione as he asked this and was surprised to see her blush at the same time as appearing disheartened.

"Hermione - are you alright?" Ron asked her in concern as he too noticed her sudden change of countenance. She nodded quietly and pointedly avoided meeting either of the boys' eyes. Ron shot a worried and uncertain glance. Harry shrugged in return and said softly, "Hermione - have you got any ideas about the second half of my dream? I mean, did it actually happen or...?"

Hermione looked up with shinning eyes and Harry trailed off, wondering what it was about angels that could have upset her, yet knowing that she wouldn't tell him if he asked.

"Can I see your hand?"

"Er - which one?" Harry inquired, not sure as to what she was getting at.

"The one that was bitten by the werewolf, of course!" she replied somewhat impatiently. Harry obediently held out his hand for her to analyse. "And you say that there were no marks on it when you woke up?"

"No - hold on a minute. Hermione give me your hand a sec - the one that you cut across the palm yesterday."

It was Hermione's turn to be confused. However, she extended her arm out without comment. Harry looked to see if the same silver streak sparkled on her palm as had the one on his, but if it was there he couldn't see it. He then turned to peer absently out of the window as if for inspiration while Ron stared at him questioningly.

The sight of the gleaming moon gave Harry a sudden idea. He took hold of Hermione's hand again and pointed his wand randomly over his shoulder into the midst of the common room, muttering "totus nox" as he did so.

Instantly the lamps in the room flickered into darkness, causing several people to scream in fright and Ron to hiss at him - "Harry, what are you doing?"

Harry, however, ignored them and proceeded to haul Hermione's upturned palm into the path of light that filtered in through the window. And there on her palm, gleaming coldly was the subtle line; poised in the feather-light.

Harry let go of her hand and turned his own towards the moon. As expected, he too had a glistening contour spanning across the width of his palm.

"What's with the lines?" Ron asked, staring blankly at the two glistening trails on the hands in front of him.

"I don't really know - but I think it's something to do with the spell," Harry said slowly, then muttered as an after thought, "Reddere."

The lamps rekindled, lighting up the bewildered faces of their fellow house members. Hermione sank back into her seat, scrutinising her hand closely. When she next looked up it was to say, "In answer to your question, Harry, I'm not entirely sure. I don't think that the second part of your dream actually happened, seeing as there isn't anything to indicate that a werewolf has bitten you. But the thing is, it all seems to fit too neatly for it to just be coincidence. Look at it like this," she continued as she saw both boys looking perplexed. "For one thing, Harry and I see a werewolf out in the grounds wearing this collar-thing, but the werewolf is solely interested in attacking Harry. Then there's Lupin. He has something that You-Know-Who wants and the only logical explanation is that it's because he's a werewolf. Well - let's face it - Lupin hasn't got anything else that might be of interest to the Dark Lord, has he? Add to that Professor Trelawney's..."

She stopped abruptly and bit her lip. The expression on her face told Harry all too clearly that she had suddenly realised something important.

"Well?" Ron cried impatiently after a short but charged pause had occurred. "Go on - why have you stopped?"

"I - never mind... Look, just forget what I said, ok? I made a mistake..." She gave Harry another one of her weird glances that he found near impossible to interpret, though he did think there was pity lurking in there somewhere. This startled him a little - why should she pity him?

"OUCH!" Harry and Hermione suddenly exclaimed in unison. They looked suspiciously at one another, oblivious to Ron who was glancing quizzically between the two of them.

"Does your leg hurt?" Harry asked Hermione shrewdly, as his own leg throbbed harshly.

"Yes," she murmured quietly, still looking slightly bewildered.

"About here?" He put a hand gently on her thigh, just above her knee.

She winced and nodded silently. "Was that where you got stabbed by the knife?"

Harry nodded and, after a moment, removed his hand from her leg while Ron just stared at the two of them. "Look, would one of you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Dunno exactly," Harry began introspectively. "For some reason when my leg hurt just then, Hermione's did too. I'm guessing that's because of the spell and - unless I'm much mistaken - Voldemort will also have experienced pain."

"But why do Hermione and You-Know-Who feel discomfort just because you do? I mean, how can this spell affect the three of you at the same time, though it is in only two of you?" said Ron interrogatively.

"I'd say that it has something to do with us sharing Harry's blood - but I'm completely at sea about why... The strange thing is that when You-Know-Who acquired Harry's blood, Harry didn't have the spell in him," Hermione told Ron quietly.

"Another strange thing is that the silver streaks on our hands only show up in the moonlight - not that I know why we should have silver streaks on our hands anyway... Any ideas as to why that might be - about the moonlight, I mean," Harry commented contemplatively. He then hitched his robes up to past the knee of his left leg in order to see the place where the blade had punctured his skin, but there was no discernible mark there. Rather than scare the rest of the common room again by extinguishing the lights a second time, Harry decided to check his leg later, once they were at the top of the Astronomy tower.

Ron was sat with his chin resting in his cupped hands while he propped his elbows on the table. He was gazing at Harry thoughtfully. "Your leg and hand are supposed to be healed, aren't they. So why is it that you keep enduring pain in them? Something else to do with the spell?"

Harry was just about to answer when Hermione let out a soft moan and collapsed limply into her chair. Judging by the way that he was starting to feel partially dizzy, Harry could tell that the spell in her was commencing to reach full potency. What he didn't understand was why he should be affected too. Ron stared at her in undisguised horror for a short while before recollecting himself and bounding over to her side. Harry realised that Ron too could tell, having watched Harry go through the same thing, that the spell was almost at full strength.

"Hermione - are you alright? Can you still hear me?" Ron asked her softly. She managed a brief nod of her head as Harry watched sympathetically, knowing all too well how unpleasant the experience she was just about to go through was.

For many minutes, Ron crouched by Hermione's chair, talking soothingly to her while Harry looked on helplessly, steadily feeling more and more vague. At the exact instant the spell reached its full capacity, Harry knew. Not because Hermione had showed any visual indication, but because immediately his blood felt as though it was on fire, then frozen like ice; then his hands - both of them - his leg and the crook of his right arm all seared with blinding agony and he promptly blacked out.

*

Roughly a quarter of an hour later, Harry opened his eyes. It took him a moment to realise that he was lying on the floor next to the desk, which he, Ron and Hermione had been sat around a short while ago. His vision was superficially cloudy and he groaned, as he soon became aware of a pulsating ache in his head.

Harry closed his eyes again and put a hand over them for a moment. When he removed it, he was able to see that Ron and Hermione were kneeling down beside him, both appearing extremely anxious. He also saw that probably about half of his house had gathered around in concern. Feeling like some sort of zoo exhibit, he sat up gingerly and turned to Ron and Hermione. "What happened?"

"You fainted," Ron informed him shakily, looking worried as he helped Harry to his feet.

"What? Why?" Harry queried feeling perplexed. He sat down in his armchair again and was bombarded with questions by the concerned people around them. After Harry had reassured everyone repeatedly that he was in fact fine, he, Ron and Hermione were once more left in peace, except from Ginny who sat down next to her brother, opposite Harry.

"So are you guys going to tell me what's going on then?" she inquired lightly, gazing from Harry to Ron to Hermione, all of whom exchanged a meaningful glance.

"Nothing's going on - I just fainted, that's all. Everyone doesn't need to make such a big deal out of it," Harry said, sighing exasperatedly.

Ginny scowled at him huffily. "But you didn't just faint, did you? First of all Hermione collapsed but she managed to do it subtly so that no one else noticed. And second, if you merely fainted then why did you cry out then fall off your seat, twitching?"

Harry stared at her with his mouth open slightly. "I didn't cry out, did I?"

He turned to see Hermione shrug apologetically while Ron and Ginny nodded slowly. Harry furrowed his brow then said, "How long was I convulsing for - the whole time I was out or..."

"Just while Hermione was out cold. You stopped as soon as she opened her eyes," Ron informed him.

Harry sat in meditative silence as he pondered it through. There were some other questions he was burning to voice but felt it would be better not to in front of Ginny. He wished that she'd leave but didn't want to hurt her feelings by bidding her to go. So instead he remained as he was, silently reflecting on what had occurred.

After a bit, when it became apparent that Ginny had no inclination to go anywhere, Harry sighed and went back to his homework. He had been wondering whether or not he would be forced to re-do his Potions essay as the scroll had become pebble-dashed by the splatters of blood from the night before. Hermione, however, had performed a comparatively simple spell that had eradicated the blood but left the scroll and its writing in tact.

For the rest of the evening, until their Astronomy lesson that is, the four of them continued with their homework talking reasonably little and only about their usual sorts of topics, nothing relating in any way to the spell, Voldemort, the knife, the dream or Lupin - none of it.

It was whilst Harry and Ron were discussing when would be an appropriate time for them to schedule their extra Quidditch practises that Harry was struck by a sudden sneaking suspicion. He stopped short in his explanation of why Wednesday evenings were not the best choice and stared doubtfully at Hermione, who was chatting unconcernedly with Ginny about the forthcoming dance.

"Harry? Harry?" Ron repeated his name over and over again in an attempt to attract his attention but Harry didn't notice.

He had only just realised that Hermione had probably not been entirely truthful when she had told him that she had been at one of her extra Transfiguration lessons the night before, after Dumbledore had finished talking with her. After all, how likely was it that Professor McGonagall would hold a lesson that proceeded until past one o'clock in the morning...?

Harry was on the brink of confronting Hermione about it. Deliberating how angry with him she was likely to be if he did so now, as it would alert Ron to the fact that Hermione had been having extra lessons. However, before he could decide if the question was really worth getting her in a sulky mood, Hermione and Ginny had looked up at him questioningly as he continued to peer at Hermione in a perceptive and calculating manner.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him as she asked, "Is there something I can help you with?"

Harry did not reply immediately. Instead he stood up, coming to the conclusion that he would rather not get her in a strop unnecessarily, by asking her about her whereabouts while Ron was in earshot. This was why he said, "Would it be alright if I had a word with you for a moment?"

Hermione lowered her eyebrow and silently consented as Ron and Ginny looked both disappointed and put out. Harry led Hermione over to a deserted stretch of wall on the opposite side of the common room.

Once they were well away from anyone else, Harry spoke, "Where were you last night after you left the hospital wing?"

Hermione's face became a picture of bewilderment. "What? You know where I was - at one of my -"

"Extra Transfiguration lessons," Harry finished for her whilst wearing a surly scowl. "Yes; that's what you said before - where were you really?"

Her cheeks reddened as she snapped angrily, "Look Harry, I don't know what all this is about but I was really..."

"No you weren't," Harry cut across her waspishly. "You mean to tell me that Professor McGonagall stayed up until past one o'clock so that you could practise Transfiguration?"

Hermione looked daggers at him.

"Well?" Harry persisted impatiently.

"Fine then - no Professor McGonagall didn't stay up that late for an extra session - but I did go to one," she snapped crossly.

Harry glowered at her then asked "So what were you doing until one o'clock?"

Hermione didn't reply and Harry took a threatening step closer to her. She glared up at him furiously. The look she fixed him with was remarkably reminiscent of that which a wild animal might wear when it was cornered.

"I'm not going to tell you, Harry," she said coldly after a while of stony silence. "So you may as well just drop it."

"I've had it with you doing this! Why can't you tell me anything anymore?" Harry asked her through clenched teeth.

There was a brief pause then -

"Fine - if you really want to know what I was doing then I'll tell you... I was trying to devise a way that would enable me to save your life," she hissed venomously.

Whatever Harry had been anticipating for her to say, it hadn't been that. He stood staring at her in stunned amazement, then fixed her with a disbelieving look. Seeing him eye her sceptically, Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Don't you trust me?"

"Right now - no," Harry replied flatly.

Hermione looked extremely hurt. "Why not?"

"You seem to have some strange desire to keep me in the dark about everything, I -"

"That's not true," she whispered earnestly. Harry continued to look at her in disbelief and her eyes flashed dangerously as she said, "And I suppose you think I like not telling you everything; that I enjoy stringing you along?"

"I was beginning to wonder," Harry answered her coolly. This was not the most sensible retort he could have made. Hermione lost all control of her temper at this point and slapped him across the face with all the strength she could muster. The blow fell with such forceful ferocity that Harry staggered backward a couple of paces.

There was a sudden still hush as every pair of eyes in the room turned to stare at them. Harry could tell by her eyes that as soon as she had struck him she had regretted it. However, it was his pride that was hurting more than his smarting cheek and so he simply turned on his heel and stalked off in a fuming fury.

Hermione ran after him and grabbed his arm but Harry brushed her off and stormed out of the room, slamming the portrait hole closed in his wake.

Harry headed for the owlery and was glad to find it still and quiet. He sat on the floor in the darkness and considered what had just happened. He knew he had overreacted and sorely wished that he could go back and change how the scene had unfolded, but obviously he couldn't so he just sat there quietly and calmed down.

It was just that everything seemed to be getting on top of him lately. There were so many things that were beyond his control and it just made him feel sincerely frustrated when Hermione let on that she knew something that he would eventually need to know, but refused to tell him what it was yet.

He then wondered how he would feel if he were in her situation; managing to obtain information she wanted to share but had been told she couldn't... He sighed dejectedly. It wasn't like him to get so hot under the collar - so why was he now? He supposed it was due to the extra pressure of worrying about Voldemort and his latest schemes... And everything else that he had been given to worry about of late, such as the dream, and the knife, and the real meeting with the werewolf...

Harry looked hopefully up amongst the rafters above his head in case Hedwig should have returned. He knew she was not there - she always delivered her letters to him before doing anything else - but he still checked all the same.
Harry then glanced down at his watch. It was ten minutes to midnight, meaning that he had ten minutes to get up to the top of the Astronomy tower for his Astronomy lesson.

So Harry slouched off at a brisk walk with his hands in his pockets. When he had climbed the last flight of steps he found the rest of the class had already assembled, waiting patiently in the corridor beside the rooftop the lesson was to be held upon.

Many people looked up as he approached - no doubt eager to see how he and Hermione were going to react to one another. Hermione fought her way over and halted barely two feet in front of him. All traces of anger had now left her face and Harry could see that she was merely worried about what he would say to her, if indeed he spoke to her at all.

The two of them gazed into the other's eyes temporarily, then without saying a word, stepped into a glad embrace. There was no need for words, each knew that they had reacted wrongly, but also that they had been forgiven for it.

When they broke apart, Harry took Hermione's hand and they went over to stand with Ron who was shaking his head at them in disbelief.

"I don't suppose either of you is going to enlighten me as to what that was all about?" he asked, looking both mildly amused and faintly irritated as he turned his gaze from one to the other.

Before Harry said anything he glanced warily at Hermione. She had wide eyes that fixed him with an imploring glance, asking him not to say anything. Harry gave her a nervous grin, then turned to Ron, "Sorry mate - I would tell you, but I think I'd rather not risk getting slapped again if it's all the same with you."

Harry then pointedly took a step back from Hermione and put a hand up to his cheek as though it still pained him. She gave him a guilty and apologetic smile as Ron laughed.

No more words could be exchanged at that moment, for Professor Sinistra opened the door leading to the tower's roof and beckoned them out into the nippy night air. Only now did Harry realise his cloak was still in his dormitory. He shivered slightly and pulled his hand gently from Hermione's grasp so that he could fold his arms closely across his chest.

They were to be working in groups of three to a telescope; as usual Harry, Ron and Hermione settled themselves as one group beside a telescope. Professor Sinistra told them that today they would be observing the interesting alignment of Mars and Jupiter in relation to Neptune. They were also informed that their homework would be to complete a detailed analysis of their findings, which was to be handed in at the beginning of their next lesson, two weeks from today.

To begin with, it was Ron that gazed at the night sky through the telescope while Harry and Hermione had the boring task of writing down his findings. After a while, Hermione glanced down at her hand again to see the moon illuminate the silver streak it bore. "Harry - do you have a line like this on your leg?"

"H-hang on-n I'll j-just che-ck-ck," Harry replied through chattering teeth.

Hermione gazed at him in concern - "Are you cold?"

Harry nodded. "A bit."

Hermione leant forward and kissed his cheek before pulling out her wand and whispering, "Calidus fovere." Immediately Harry felt a wave of warmth wash over him as though he had just sunk into a hot bath.

"Thanks," he said, smiling gratefully at her, then pulled up his robes so that he could see his leg. Sure enough, a deep bright silver line - not as faint as the ones on their hands - gleamed back at him.

"I guess that answers your question, Hermione," said Ron seriously as he turned his attention from the telescope to Harry's limb. "Well, it looks as though you guys'll be paying Dumbledore a visit tomorrow - seeing as he wanted you to tell him about every little thing in case it was in some way connected to the spell."

"I guess we will... Hey - Hermione!" Harry exclaimed as he suddenly remembered something. "How are you now? Do you feel any different now that the spell has reached full strength?"

"I'm fine - I felt really weird just before I fainted - kinda vague I suppose. But when I woke up I felt normal again. When you fainted; just before you fainted - did you go really hot, then really cold? And did your hand hurt?" she asked him expectantly.

Harry nodded slowly and saw her eyes grow wide. "But it was both of my hands, my leg and the crook of my right arm."

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "That is really strange because when the spell reached full potency in you the other day, just as I fainted my blood ran hot then cold and my hand hurt along the place where I cut it..."

"This is too weird!" Ron exclaimed fervently, looking between the two of them as Harry dropped his robes back over his leg again.

"You can say that again," Harry agreed. "So when shall we go to Camellia's Fountain to get the water? Seeing as we have to collect it at midnight, I guess it'll mean sneaking out of school... We'd better plan this carefully because if we get caught -"

"We - we - what's 'we' got to do with anything? Camellia said that you'd have to save yourself, by yourself, so presumably that means you'll have to collect the water on your own too." Ron said soberly. Harry opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again quickly when he saw Ron's face break into a grin. "Of course we'll come with you - I was only kidding!"

Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief - he hadn't much fancied the idea of the long trek to the fountain on his own, especially at the time of night when he was going to have to go. Just then, Professor Sinistra came over to them and Harry suddenly realised that Hermione had been sat there with a hand raised in the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Er - Professor, I was wondering if you had a lunar chart I could borrow - I wanted to see if the conjunction between Mars and Jupiter was in any way related to the present moon ascension," said Hermione convincingly, ignoring Ron and Harry's stupefied faces.

"Certainly - I will go fetch you one," replied Professor Sinistra sounding impressed by Hermione's keen interest.

"Great idea!" exclaimed Harry warmly after their teacher was once more out of earshot. "I suppose you did just say all of that so that we can see when the next convenient full moon is going to be?"

"Of course I did! Though saying that - I probably ought to at least comment on it having made Professor Sinistra think I'm going to..." she said groaning slightly.

Professor Sinistra returned and handed Hermione a lunar chart showing the moon positions for the next six months. She then cast an eye briefly over their recordings before bustling away, seemingly satisfied, to the next group.

Hermione scanned the chart in her hands. "The next full moon isn't until the 24th of November, which is a Tuesday - how typical."

"I guess it'll have to be then, then," Harry said resignedly.

"Couldn't we wait for one that falls on a weekend?" Ron suggested blankly.

Hermione looked up at him nervously. ""It could be too long - we don't know when Harry is going to be in danger so we can't risk putting it off for too long."

Ron glanced apprehensively at Harry then nodded.

*