Harry Potter and the Carnelian Key

Harry trudged up the stairs, feeling tired but happy. Their first practice had been fun, and productive - they were going to be pretty good. Katie and Oliver had left big shoes to fill, but Nigel and Ron were stepping up to the challenge nicely. And the rest of them had been playing for years now; they were only getting better all the time. Lost in thought, he had just climbed the last staircase to Gryffindor Tower when Hermione came rushing down the hall to meet him, looking very distressed.

"Harry, thank goodness you’re alone," she said anxiously. "Where’s Ron?"

"Still outside," he said, motioning back towards the stairs. "He doesn’t want to come down off of that broomstick...Hermione, what is the matter?"

Her face crumpled and Harry could see tears welling up in her eyes. She held her fist to her chest, as if grasping for something that wasn’t there. "I’ve lost my necklace," she said with a small sob, looking so miserable that Harry rushed forward to grip her by the arms.

"What? Are you sure?"

She nodded fiercely. "Yes. The clasp must have broken and...Harry, I don’t want Ron to find out...he’ll be so angry...I have to find it before he knows I lost it..." She was nearly hysterical.

"Hermione, calm down," Harry said steadily. "First of all, he wouldn’t be angry at you. He knows you would never be careless with it. It was an accident. And we’ll find it, don’t worry."

"I don’t have any idea where it could be," she said helplessly. "I’ve been wearing it under my robes...I don’t even know for sure when I last had it..."

"Well, when do you remember having it on?"

"I know I was wearing it this morning when I got dressed, but, Harry, I’ve been all over this castle today...it could be anywhere..."

"All right," he said confidently, "We’ll just retrace your steps. Where were you when noticed it was missing?"

"In the common room, just a bit ago...but I’ve already searched the whole tower..."

"Have you been in the common room the whole time since Ron and I left?"

"No, I was asleep in the library for a little while..."

"All right, listen to me. We’ll split up. I’ll start in the library and then I’ll check all the classrooms we were in today. You check in the Great Hall, the restrooms, anywhere else you might have gone, okay?"

She nodded. "I had Arithmancy today."

"Right, I’ll check there too." She looked so desperately upset that Harry pulled her into a hug. "Don’t worry," he said again firmly. "We’ll find it."

She nodded weakly when he drew back. Then suddenly, "Wait...you won’t know where to look in the library...I wasn’t at our usual table...Draco Malfoy was there...I had to sit way in the back...you won’t know where I was..."

Harry shook her a little to stop her mad rambling. "Hermione. You check in the library then. I’ll meet you back here okay? Don’t go into the common room without me. If Ron sees you like this, he’ll know something’s wrong."

"All right," she said, and they went their separate ways.

* * * * *

Harry had tried to sound confident for Hermione’s sake, but Hogwarts was a huge castle, and they had been all over it that day. He picked up his pace as he moved through the corridors, his eyes darting back and forth across the stone floor, hoping to spot a glimmer of gold or red. He had already been in the Arithmancy, Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Charms classrooms with no luck. Thankfully, they hadn’t had Care of Magical Creatures or Herbology that day - they had only been indoors - but the necklace could still be in any one of a thousand places. Harry took the stairs to the Astronomy classroom two at a time, and searched there as well, again to no avail. He mentally crossed his fingers as he descended the stairs, hoping that Hermione had already found the necklace, or that it would be in the one classroom he had yet to check. When he reached the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, he shoved it open, rushing forward to their desks. He looked all over and around them, and pushed the chairs out of the way to search the floor as well. It wasn’t there.

"Damn," he muttered.

"Harry?"

Harry staightened with a start, and hit his head on the underside of a desk.

The voice chuckled. "I’m sorry, are you all right?"

Harry got to his feet, rubbing his head and smiling embarrassedly. Professor Matlock had emerged from her office, which adjoined the classroom, looking confused and concerned.

"Yeah..." he said, touching his head carefully. "I’m sorry I disturbed you."

"I’m sorry I startled you," she said, coming forward. "Are you looking for something?"

"Yes. Hermione Granger lost a necklace today. It’s gold with a dark garnet stone - looks like an antique. You didn’t happen to see it did you?"

She shook her head, frowning. "No, I’m sorry...It’s important to her?"

"Very. It was a gift."

"Oh," she said sympathetically. "Well, I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it. I hope you find it."

"Thanks," he said, heading for the door. He pulled it open and then thought of something. "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"If you do find it - or even if you don’t, for that matter - she doesn’t want Ron Weasley to know anything about it..."

She smiled knowingly. "It was a gift from him, was it?"

"Yes," Harry admitted.

"Well, don’t worry. Mum’s the word."

"Great. Thanks a lot."

Harry left the room, hurrying around the corner, and bumped into someone, hard.

"Watch where you’re going," said an irritated voice.

"Malfoy," Harry said, equally irritated, "what are you doing up here?"

"I was on my way from the owlery. That’s perfectly legal, isn’t it prefect?" he said snidely. "What are you doing up here?"

"I believe your common room is that way," Harry said pointing down the stairs. "And it’s none of your business what I’m doing."

"Then it’s none of your business what I’m doing," he snapped.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don’t have time for this," he said, pushing Draco out of the way and brushing past him. He hurried down the staircase, and then up the next one and several others. By the time he reached the meeting spot, he was out of breath. Hermione was already there, and the instant he saw her face he knew she had been desperately waiting for him to come with good news. He shook his head. "I’m sorry."

Her face fell and she sank to the floor. "What am I going to do?" she muttered.

Harry sighed. "It could still turn up," he said, trying to sound hopeful.

She looked at him with empty eyes. "Right."

"I’ve got Professor Matlock looking for it..."

She nodded numbly. "Good."

He didn’t know what else to say. He just stood there and Hermione made no move to get up. Finally he stepped forward and offered his hand. "Come on. Let’s go in."

She shook her head. "I can’t tell him."

"So don’t. Not yet. We may still find it."

She nodded weakly, letting Harry pull her up.

When they stepped through the portrait hole, they saw Ron standing with the twins in the center of the room, surrounded by a large group of students and talking animatedly about the Firebolt XL.

"Yeah," he was saying, "It’s amazing. It could make all the difference for our team...Hey!" He had spotted Harry and Hermione and he broke away from the crowd. "I was looking everywhere for you two. Where were you?"

"In the library," Harry said quickly, not trusting Hermione’s brain for once.

"Like that?" Ron indicated Harry’s sweaty practice robes with a scowl.

"Yeah," he replied, shrugging, "we just wanted to look something up really quick."

Ron looked from him to Hermione, who was carefully avoiding his eyes.

"I’m going to bed," she said abruptly, and quickly headed off for the girl’s dorm.

"Is she all right?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I think she’s just tired," Harry replied, thinking quickly. "She said she thought she might be coming down with something."

"Oh," he said, as they settled at their usual table. "Well, she should see Madam Pomfrey then."

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow. Or maybe she’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep."

Ron nodded. He seemed to buy the story and Harry was relieved. He really wasn’t that good at lying, especially not to Ron. "So, great practice tonight, wasn’t it?"

"Yeah, it really was. Think we’ll win the cup?"

"Yeah, I think we’ll have a good shot," Harry replied, rummaging through his bag.

"That would be so cool..." He trailed off and Harry could feel him staring at him. "Hey, you’re not still thinking about that immortality nonsense, are you? Is that why you were in the library?"

"It’s not nonsense," Harry said shortly. "If Voldemort succeeds in becoming truly immortal, he’ll be unstoppable."

"Well...what can you do to prevent that?" Ron asked uncomfortably. "I mean, shouldn’t you just leave that up to Dumbledore and everyone to worry about? You should just concentrate on keeping yourself safe."

"I am," Harry said, "But that doesn’t mean I can’t at least find out more about it."

"I guess," Ron replied uncertainly.

Harry wished he would just drop it for tonight. "Hey," he said, looking up and grinning mischievously. "Hermione’s not here. Let’s blow off our homework tonight. How about some chess?"

That distracted him easily. "All right."

* * * * *

Harry smiled tiredly and let out a heavy sigh. He withdrew his wand and picked up the second of his two completed portkeys. Turning it over in his hands, he could only hope that it would take him to St. Mungo’s Hospital in one piece if he said "transportio." His conversation with Dumbledore had done the trick. It had taken his entire Saturday afternoon and much of the evening, but he had successfully completed both transformations without a single mishap. He gathered up the five spare rocks that remained on the workbench, and took them to the window, tossing them out one by one. He felt blissfully light, as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, in both the figurative and literal sense. He stood gazing out at the first stars of the night, raking his hands through his black hair, and ran down the list in his mind. He had charmed his robes first thing - that was done. He had finished the last potion the night before, had read and memorized dozens of defense curses, and had now completed the portkeys. He was as protected as he was going to get. Now he could turn his full attention to researching immortality and finding a way to knock Voldemort down a few pegs, if it was possible.

He’d been in the library the day before, and hadn’t found anything useful on immortality in the student section. He knew his only hope lie in the restricted materials. He couldn’t access those books without a teacher’s permission, though, and he wasn’t eager to divulge the fact that he wanted to study up on possible ways to defeat the Dark Lord. Finally he had gotten a note of permission from Professor Matlock, telling her that he wanted to do some advanced research on defense, which was not, after all, a lie.

Several times over the last few days, he had felt his heart suddenly leap into his throat as he wondered what the hell he thought he was doing, trying to find a way to defeat Voldemort. Was he mad? He should bless his lucky stars if he could just avoid Voldemort - escape him. But then he would picture in his mind all of the destruction and devastation that Voldemort was undoubtedly planning, picture children running for their lives, see his parents faces, hear his mother’s voice begging for mercy...He could imagine what it must have been like when Voldemort was in power before, and couldn’t just sit by and let it happen again. He was too involved. He was the reason for Voldemort’s downfall the first time, and he was the reason he was back now. It was his path in life, as Dumbledore had said. He knew that he would be the wizarding world’s first chance to face him - he knew it in his bones - and he owed it to the world to do whatever he could...even if he had no idea what that would be.

* * * * *

Harry could hardly stand to see the misery that had settled into Hermione’s expression in the five days since her necklace had gone missing. She had somehow managed to fool Ron into thinking she had a bad flu that, for some reason, wouldn’t respond to anything Madam Pomfrey tried.

"Hermione," Ron was saying over dinner on Sunday night, "I really think you should just stay in bed tomorrow. Forget about your classes. You’ll never get well otherwise." It hadn’t been the first time he’d suggested it, nor was it the first time she dismissed it.

"No," she said, staring down at the food she was pushing around her plate. "I can’t just skip my classes, Ron. You know that."

He studied her face with a pained expression. "Well, at least try to eat something, then. You need to get your strength back."

Harry saw her squeeze her eyes shut and swallow hard. ‘She’s trying not to cry,’ he thought. He knew that every concerned comment Ron made was like fuel for the fire of guilt that Hermione was feeling. He felt like he should do something, anything, but he just didn’t know what. Nothing he said to her made her feel any better, and he couldn’t exactly explain to Ron that he needed to quit nagging her.

Suddenly Hermione pushed her plate away and stood up. "I think I’ll just go on to bed," she said shakily, and she hurried from the table. Ron stood up and made to follow after her, but Harry held him back with a hand and followed her himself.

"Harry, what is going on?" Ron yelled after him.

Harry ignored him, rushing off to catch her. "Hermione! Hermione, wait!" Harry called as he caught up with her on the marble staircase. She stopped, and then turned around to face him, and the look in her eyes broke his heart. "Hermione," he said carefully. "You have to stop this now. You’re being way too hard on yourself. Just tell him you lost the necklace. He’ll understand. You’re making this way harder than it needs to be."

"He’ll think I didn’t care," she whispered.

Harry sighed. Why was she putting herself through this? "He won’t. He knows how much you loved that necklace."

"He worked so hard on it. He’ll be crushed. I can’t do that to him."

"Hermione, he’s catching on. He knows you’re upset about something. You have to tell him."

She stared at him, chin trembling. After a moment her stoic expression cracked and, sighing heavily, she sat down hard on the stone steps. "Send him out here," she said defeatedly.

He nodded firmly, as if to tell her she was doing the right thing. "Okay, stay right there," and he turned back towards the Great Hall.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter, sir!" Harry stopped in midstride and saw Dobby the house-elf hurrying towards them from down the side hallway.

"Hello, Dobby," he said as the house-elf skidded to a stop in front of him, sliding on the marble floor in his mismatched socks. "How are you?" he asked politely, casting a glance at Hermione. But she seemed to welcome the distraction, and came over to join them.

"Hi, Dobby," she said. "How are you? How’s Winky?"

"Winky is fine, Miss," he squeaked, pushing his floppy hat out of his eyes. "Dobby is fine. Dobby is supposing to give Miss this. Dobby is supposing to give this to Harry Potter’s friend - the girl - when his Wheezy not around." Hermione looked from Dobby to Harry with a confused expression, and Harry shrugged. Hermione reached out for the envelope Dobby offered, and he bowed as she took it.

"Who is it from?" she asked him.

"Dobby is not supposing to tell. Dobby is told it is all in the note." With that he bowed again and scurried off. "Good-bye, Harry Potter, sir! Good-bye!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Dobby!" he called after him.

Hermione tore the envelope open and peered inside. "Harry!" she gasped, her face lighting up. "Look!" She up-ended the envelope and the garnet necklace fell into her hand.

A huge wave of shocked relief washed over him and he rushed forward to examine the necklace hanging from her hand, while she read the enclosed note.

"Dear Miss Granger," she read in a rush, "I believe this belongs to you. I saw it this morning wedged under a loose floorboard beneath my desk. It must have fallen off when you brought your homework up to me the other day and somehow gotten kicked under the desk. The clasp was broken, but I fixed it for you easily with a simple reparo charm. I would have returned it to you in class today, but Mr. Potter told me you didn’t want Mr. Weasley to know you lost it, so I found an eager house-elf and asked him to deliver it to you in private. He did seem awfully happy for the job! Well, I hope that you are glad to have it back. It really is quite beautiful. Mr. Weasley has fine taste. Yours, Professor Matlock."

"See," Harry said, grinning at the giddiness that had replaced the sorrow in her expression. "I told you it would turn up."

"You did," she laughed, fastening the chain securely around her neck.

"Are you still going to tell him you lost it?" he teased her.

"What? Are you kidding?" she shook her head fervently. "No way!"

"He’s going to wonder why you’re suddenly well," Harry laughed.

"Right," she said, biting her lip. "Well...go and tell him you convinced me to see Madam Pomfrey again, and I’ll come back to the common room saying she finally mixed up some concoction that worked."

"Miss Granger," he scolded. "I never thought I’d live to see the day you would ask me to lie for you."

"Oh, shut up. It’s for a good cause," and she bounded happily up the stairs.

* * * * *

Between Quidditch training and trying to catch up on neglected homework, the next couple of weeks passed quickly for Harry. He really didn’t have much time at all to do any research, and he had decided to wait until the first Quidditch match was out of the way before really digging in. It continued to nag him at every moment, though, a little voice in his head telling him that Voldemort could be taking steps right now, and that he might be able to anticipate his next move if he just found the right information.... But he had no choice for now; he had to put it off. There were just too many demands on his time, namely the first game of the season. In the week leading up to the match, Angelina had the team practicing every night, and now Harry was just glad that game day had arrived. After today, they would be able to resume a somewhat normal schedule, at least for a while.

Harry and Ron were crossing the pitch for the Gryffindor locker room, strategizing for the day’s game. Ron was so excited he could hardly contain himself, and was practically skipping across the grass, while Harry walked steadfastly next to him.

"Try not to catch the snitch too soon, eh?" Ron joked. "Give me a chance to at least block a shot or two."

"Right," Harry replied, smiling and holding up a hand to shield his eyes from the bright November sun. "I’ll try to put the welfare of the team out of my mind, just so that you can get a chance to impress the young witches."

"Oh, that would be great. You’re a real pal," Ron replied, grinning.

Harry saw an opportunity that he knew he should let pass, but he just couldn’t...he was getting too anxious to know... "Although I’m betting there’s really only one witch you want to impress," Harry said pointedly, pulling open the door to the small white building that housed the Gryffindor locker room.

"What?" Ron asked, confused, following him inside. But Harry didn’t have a chance to respond before what they saw made him freeze. His stomach flipped over, but not for the same reason it would have a year ago.

"Cho," Harry said, unable to hide his surprise at seeing the opposing team’s chaser hanging around outside the door to their locker room.

"Hi, Harry," she said nervously. "I’m sorry. I wanted to talk to you, and I know this probably isn’t the best time..." she trailed off, glancing at Ron.

"I’ll just wait inside," Ron said, taking his and Harry’s Firebolts and disappearing into the locker room.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked once the door had closed, taking a tentative step forward.

"Yes, everything’s fine," she said, smiling awkwardly. "I just...can we sit?" she asked, motioning towards the bench against the opposite wall.

"Sure, of course," he replied, and he waited until Cho sat before taking a seat next to her.

She turned sideways to face him, and seemed to be struggling to find the right words to start the conversation. "I never got a chance to speak to you," she finally said, and she looked down at her hands in her lap. "...after what happened."

"Right," Harry said, taking a deep breath. What was she going to say? Did she blame him for what happened to Cedric? Of course she did...

"I wanted to, I just wasn’t sure I could face you then," she continued.

"I’m so sorry, Cho," he blurted out. "I should have said it then - I should have said it a hundred times already since we’ve been back, I -"

"Sorry?" she asked, snapping her head up to look at him. "Harry, you have nothing to be sorry about. No, I wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" he scoffed. "For what? Bringing your boyfriend back to you dead?"

She flinched and he immediately cursed himself for not thinking before he spoke.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for him," she replied quietly.

Wow. He certainly hadn’t expected that. He hesitated, and then said carefully, "I don’t understand."

"I know that you helped him with the tasks...he never would have made it past that dragon if you hadn’t warned him...and you helped him in the maze...you wanted him to take the cup...you were going to let him win..." her voice hitched and she took a shaky breath. "You risked your life to bring him back...to fulfill his last wish," a tear rolled down her cheek and she brushed it quickly away. "Dumbledore told me," she added as an afterthought, and then went on, "and I never got to thank you for that."

"I’m sorry that he died because of me," Harry said earnestly. "I would do anything to be able to go back, and -"

She shook her head. "No. There was nothing to be done."

They lapsed into silence for a moment, and Harry’s heart ached, knowing the pain that he had caused yet another person.

"I just needed to tell you that," she finally said in a freshly steady voice, and she rose from the bench.

He nodded, rising beside her. "Me too. Thank you."

"I know this wasn’t really the best time, but I needed to get that off my chest before we went out there and tried to kick each other’s bums."

"Right," he said smiling.

"So all’s fair now," she said with a warning smile. "I’m not going to feel guilty when I grab that snitch out from right under your nose."

"I should hope not," Harry said with a laugh.

"Well…good-bye then."

"Good-bye. Good luck."

"You too."

* * * * *

"Welcome! Welcome Hogwarts students, faculty, and staff, to the first Quidditch match of the new season!" Lee Jordan’s voice boomed across the pitch and loud cheers of anticipation rang out throughout the stands. "It’s Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor for you today, ladies and gentleman, and quite an interesting game it will be. Your Ravenclaw team is having what you would call a rebuilding year, with five new players. And young ones they are, too. Two fourth years, two third years, and a second year, folks. That’s right, little twelve-year-old Jared Wakefield will be tossing the ole quaffle around out there today. And talented as the newcomers no doubt are, I’m betting my Bertie Botts Beans that they will be no match for the mighty Gryffindors. With two verteran seventh year chasers, and a new but formidable sixth year, those youngsters had better be prepared for -"

"Mr. Jordan, that is quite enough," came McGonagall’s warning voice.

"Just speaking the facts, professor, just the facts. But on another note, who can help but but notice the talk of the Gryffindor team this year, Mr. Ron Weasley, flying a Firebolt XL." Lee let out an impressed whistle. "The best broomstick on the market, ladies, and the only one of it’s kind on Hogwarts grounds. Combine that broomstick with Weasley’s raw talent, and he should be quite a spectacle to behold here today, folks. Yes, you are in for quite a treat this lovely afternoon."

Ron was beaming on the ground next to Harry, where they were positioned in line waiting for Madam Hooch’s whistle. Harry’s stomach was dancing with eager butterflies, and his heart was racing a hundred miles a minute. Harry couldn’t remember ever being this excited on a game day. It had been so long since he had played, and he could hardly wait to kick off and feel that first rush of adrenaline that he knew would come as he soared up and above the crowd. Not to mention the fact that he was standing next to his best friend, who would be joining him in the air for the first time...The seeker always stood next to the keeper at the end of the start line, and in a way Harry missed Oliver’s steady and confident presence. But in another, hugely monumental way, he was so proud to call Ron his teammate. This team felt complete to him, like he had been waiting his whole life to play with these exact six people, his housemates, his friends. Even Nigel Underwood, whom Harry hardly knew, seemed to belong. And yet somewhere in the back of his head he felt a twinge of sadness, knowing that it wouldn’t last - it was a one season only deal. Angelina and Alicia, and, most importantly, Fred and George would be gone next year, and Harry would be the sole veteran...the last remaining player from his original team...

"Three...two...one!" The whistle blasted sharply and Harry kicked off, amidst deafening cheers and thunderous applause. He relished the feeling of the wind whipping through his wild hair, pressing into his face as he raced to the top of the stadium. He levelled out twenty feet above the others, and watched as the first plays were executed.

"And it’s Angelina Johnson who’s first to the quaffle, and she darts across the field, dodging the opposing chasers, and she shoots a pass to Underwood - he sends it back, and she fakes left - to Spinnet and - ooooooohhhh. Impressive interception by Ravenclaw’s Meredith Cooper. Cooper’s barrelling back across the field..."

Harry shot his first glance at Ron, who was looking fierce and rather intimidating, and he grinned. "And Cooper’s approaching the goal posts, the Gryffindors are closing in...and Cooper’s knocked off course by a Weasley bludger! She’s dropped the quaffle and it’s Underwood! He drops below the others, speeding across the pitch...he shoots from below - and it’s a good one! Ten-zero to Gryffindor!" Cheers rang out from the right side of the stands. "There you have it folks, first goal of the new season!"

Harry pulled his vision away from the game, and started his search for the golden snitch. Cho was hovering opposite and a little below him, systematically swinging her gaze from one end of the field to the other. Harry took a different approach, looking in swift circles of gradually decreasing altitude until his eyes hit the grass, and then starting back at the top again, all the while tuning his ears into Lee’s commentary.

Gryffindor monopolized the ball for a long while, and had scored twice more before Harry heard Lee announce that the quaffle was back in Ravenclaw’s possession. Harry rapidly shifted his gaze between the snitch-less mass of air and Ron, who was looking more than ready for his first bit of action.

"And Wakefield is darting in...Weasley looks ready...Wakefield’s heading for the corner...and wait! He shoots a pass to the right!...and it’s Chamberlain!...she shoots!..."

Harry held his breath as Ron quickly flipped over and thrust out an arm...and his fingertips connected with the ball, sending it spiraling downward.

"And Spinnet catches the quaffle...Magnificent save by keeper Ron Weasley!"

Harry let out his breath. "Way to go, Ron!" he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the boisterous crowd. Even from his spot halfway across the stadium, Harry could see Ron grinning widely and going a deep shade of red, and Harry laughed out loud.

"Look at the way those Gryffindors work together!" Lee was shouting as Nigel and Angelina shot the quaffle back and forth in a sort of keep-away from Meredith Cooper.

Harry forced his attention back to his own job, and only listened to the action for a few minutes. Gryffindor scored twice, and then the quaffle was caught by Jessica Chamberlain, and Harry watched her zoom towards the goal posts. Overly eager, she shot from far away and Ron blocked the quaffle easily. Ravenclaw got the rebound, and several more in quick succession, and Ron knocked each away, and finally caught the quaffle squarely in his hands. He threw it forcefully to Nigel, and ten bodies reversed direction. Harry’s gaze dropped below the action, and as his eyes darted to his right, a glimmer of gold caught the corner of his eye. He whipped around, but the snitch was already out of sight. He glanced nervously at Cho, but she was facing the other direction and hadn’t seen it.

For several minutes, Harry tuned out the game, searching intently for the snitch.

"And a nice shot by Spinnet!" Lee’s voice finally broke through Harry’s concentration. "That brings us to sixty-zero, Gryffindor. Seems Ravenclaw’s only hope now is for their Cho Chang to catch that snitch, and fast." The Ravenclaw players took Lee’s remark personally, and the Gryffindor chasers scattered as two heavy bludgers came charging their way. The quaffle slipped from Alicia’s grasp, and Jared Wakefield swooped down to catch it, flipping over and speeding towards the opposite end of the field. Harry’s heart was pounding as his eyes rapidly searched out the snitch, simultaneously fighting to stay on Ron. Wakefield was tiny, and he was fast. He shot the quaffle to the left corner, and Ron knocked it hard to the right - right into Meredith Cooper’s hands. She hurled it straight ahead, and Ron flattened on his broomstick, lunging forward…and the ball barely brushed his fingertips as it soared through the hoop.

Cheers rang out from the far left now, and Harry could see Ron cursing. He chuckled a little, thankful that Professor McGonagall wasn’t within his earshot. Madam Hooch threw the ball back in from out of bounds, and Nigel caught it. Harry watched as the players shifted momentum, and for several minutes, they all hovered in the middle of the field, as the ball switched hands and possession numerous times. And then suddenly, just underneath the jumbled mass of players, Harry saw the snitch. It was hovering in the very center of the pitch, about fifty feet down from Harry’s position. In a split second, he glanced at Cho and saw that her eyes were locked on the winged ball as well. They dove in the same instant, heading straight for the wall of players that unknowingly blocked their paths. Harry plunged recklessly downward, hearing Ron’s shouts of "Go, Harry!" He shot a glance at Cho…she was slowing, being too careful…trying to avoid crashing into anyone, and Harry took full advantage, pushing the handle of his broomstick down sharply. Several players saw him coming and jumped out of the way, but it was too late for Fred, as Harry caught him hard with an elbow. Harry’s balance was shaken, and the back of his broomstick whipped around, but still he dove, and, dizzy from the sudden reversal of motion, he looped around, reaching out his right hand… and he closed his fingers around the snitch, just as Cho narrowly missed crashing into him.

The right side of the stands erupted in victory. "Whoa!" exclaimed Lee Jordan. "That was some dramatic catch by Potter! Could’ve ended nastily, that one." Harry’s head was spinning as he dove to the ground, and he hit the grass hard, the golden snitch tumbling from his hand. He saw Fred and George land next to him, George supporting his brother’s weight as Fred stumbled, his hands to his face. Harry’s vision cleared, and he sat up carefully, and then scrambled to his feet when he saw the blood pouring from between Fred’s fingers.

"Fred!" he exclaimed. "What the -?"

"We need some help over here!" George shouted, and the crowd around them suddenly swelled as the remaining players landed, and Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Hooch came rushing across the grass.

"What happened?" Ron yelled, running over to help George hold their brother up.

"Let us through! Let us through please!" Madam Pomfrey was shouting, just as Harry reached the three Weasleys.

"Fred! I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize…"

Fred grinned crookedly from beneath his broken nose. "Brilliant catch, Harry…just brilliant…smashing best yet…" and he fainted dead away in his brothers’ arms.

* * * * *

The portrait hole swung open and the three Weasley brothers stepped through it, Fred looking somewhat rumpled, but basically as good as new.

"Fred!" Ginny exclaimed, and she was the first to reach him, Harry and Hermione close behind, followed by Lee Jordan and the rest of the team. The small crowd closed around him, while dozens of Gryffindors hung back, some standing on chairs to get a better look.

"Ginny, for crying out loud," Ron was saying, "Let him breathe."

Ginny was holding Fred’s face in her hands, examining him for any permanent damage.

Fred chuckled and pulled back from her grip, "Really, Gin, I’m fine." She looked unconvinced. "I’m fine. Pomfrey fixed me right up." He extended his hand around his sister and shook Harry’s hand heartily. "Amazing, Harry. Just fabulous," he said, shaking his head in awe.

"Fred," Harry said seriously. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were injured. It was stupid, reckless -"

"Are you kidding? It was great!" He swayed a little on his feet, and a dozen hands reached out to steady him.

George rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous. He needs to sit down." Lee stepped forward and helped George lead Fred to a nearby chair.

"Is he really all right?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron nodded. "He will be. He had a bad concussion - Madam Pomfrey practically went nutters, refused to let him leave. But you know Fred..."

Harry smiled. He did know Fred. Far be it for him to follow orders.

"Is it safe for him to be here, though?" Hermione asked, eyeing Fred nervously, "I mean, shouldn’t he be in bed, lying down or something?"

"No," he replied lightly, shaking his head. "Pomfrey gave him some potion and said he should sit up for awhile...said he’ll be feeling normal again in a couple hours."

"Well, I guess she would know," she said uncertainly, as they worked their way to the table where she and Harry had been waiting for them to return from the hospital wing.

"Some game, huh Harry?" Ron asked, eyes gleaming.

Harry laughed as he flopped onto a chair. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Hermione looked between them with a horrified expression. "You two are the nutters! Someone could have been killed out there today!"

"Hermione," Ron said flatly. "You’re going to drive yourself mad. I think maybe you should just stay in next time, you obviously can’t handle the intensity of the game..." he grinned as she sputtered exasperatedly.

"Well, pardon me for worrying. Someone around here has to," she scowled.

"Hermione?" came a new voice.

Still scowling, she looked over her shoulder, and then smiled apologetically. "Oh, hi, Seamus."

"Hi. Hi, you guys. Great game, really great." Hermione made an irritated noise and Seamus dropped his wide smile. "Um, are you ready to study?"

"Yes," she said, shooting Ron a final glare as she hastily gathered up her astronomy notes.

"You’re going to study now?" Ron challenged. "It’s Saturday! And we’ve just won our first game!"

Hermione softened almost imperceptibly. "I’m very happy that the two of you won your match. And I know it meant a lot to you, being your first game and everything...but I still think you’re both absolute lunatics. Come on, Seamus." With that, Hermione marched away. Seamus shrugged at them and followed her, and they disappeared through the portrait hole, leaving Ron with his mouth open in silent protest.

"Why is it so hard for her to understand that it’s a game?" he asked, irritated. "Sometimes it gets rough. That’s how you have to play it."

"Because she doesn’t like seeing people get hurt. Especially when it is just a game. It’s pointless to her. And to be proud of it...well, that’s just plain insanity as far as she’s concerned." Ron crossed his arms defiantly and Harry added, "It’s just because she cares."

"Well, she shouldn’t care so much."

"You don’t mean that."

"No," he admitted, looking down.

Harry considered his friend for a long moment. "Let’s get cleaned up and go to the library."

"What?" Ron asked, snapping his head up to look at Harry with an appalled expression.

"Come on," Harry said, pushing his chair back and rising abruptly. "It won’t kill you."

"I am not studying on a Saturday," Ron retorted.

"We’re not going to study. You’re going to help me do some research."

"Harry, I don’t-"

Harry cut him off with a matter-of-fact tone. "Either help me, or sit here pouting by yourself all day. It’s up to you."

Ron rose reluctantly. "I’m not pouting," he muttered.

"Whatever. Come on."

* * * * *

The library was fairly empty when Ron and Harry arrived. Apparently, most students applied Ron’s view as far as Saturday studying was concerned. They dropped their things on an empty table near the opposite wall from where Seamus and Hermione were sitting, and headed straight for the restricted section.

"Harry," Ron said tentatively as Harry scanned a bookshelf labeled Advanced Strategies of the Dark Minded, "you mind telling me exactly what you’re aiming to do here? I know you’re not crazy enough to actually be trying to find a way to defeat You-Know-Who. That would be suicidal."

"I just want to..." Harry searched impatiently for the right word, as he wasn’t sure himself what he was doing... "inform myself. See if I can figure out what he’s up to, what kind of steps he’ll be taking." He pulled a thick black volume off the shelf, considered it, and then replaced it. "I’m not going to go in blind. The better I understand him, the better prepared I’ll be to face him."

Ron frowned. "I’m not sure I’d want to understand him," he said, as Harry began piling musty books into his arms. "Harry...geez." Ron stumbled a little under the added weight of the dozenth book, and Harry withdrew the one he was about to add.

"Yeah, I guess we have enough to start with."

"You think?" Ron quickly shifted the stack to prevent a thin green publication from sliding to the floor.

"All right," he said, shoving the book he was holding back onto the shelf. He relieved Ron of several of the heavier ones, and led the way back to their table. Harry started in on the thickest selection, turning to the first page, while Ron flipped aimlessly through a less imposing volume.

"What am I looking for?" Ron asked.

"Anything on immortality. Ways to achieve it, wizards who did, how they were conquered, stuff like that."

Ron scoffed at Harry’s I tone and flipped the pages loudly. "Sure, stuff like that...no big deal...just your run of the mill evil overlord history lesson..."

Harry shot him a look from over his glasses, raising an eyebrow, and Ron dropped his comments to a silent mouthing.

Harry scanned the table of contents of the text before him, and shook his head distractedly. No, this was mostly about advanced healing – dark healing of life-threatening injuries and maladies. Very dangerous methods...

He cast that one aside and picked up another. This one might be better. Understanding Mortality: overcoming a trivial existence. He flipped to a chapter on longevity charms and started reading. This was interesting...apparently there were certain dark spells that could be cast to ensure a long and healthy life. They would protect against illness and disease, and provide some protection against life threatening injuries. They were no guarantee against a premature death, but they definitely offered a cushion...made the wizard who invoked the magic much stronger than an ordinary wizard, as far as the frailty of life was concerned. Harry absently noticed that Ron had been quiet for a while...had he found something?

Harry glanced up and saw that Ron wasn’t reading at all. The book he’d been looking at hung loosely in his hand and his gaze was fixed somewhere across the room. Harry followed his eyes, and saw that he was watching Seamus and Hermione. They were sitting across from one another, leaning forward on the table to examine the same star chart. Hermione was pointing something out on the parchment and Seamus was shaking his head, looking very confused. Hermione cocked her head to the side, obviously having trouble trying to read the star chart upside down. She got up and crossed around the table to stand next to Seamus, and she leaned over him to point out whatever it was that she was trying to explain, her long hair brushing against Seamus’ shoulder.

"How stupid is he?" Ron asked suddenly, and Harry jumped.

"What?"

"How stupid is he? She’s been tutoring him in astronomy for weeks now. Retrograde motion isn’t that confusing. Geez."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe she’s not helping him with retrograde motion anymore. Maybe he has trouble with all of it. Some subjects just don’t come easily to some people."

Ron sneered. "It’s not that hard."

Hermione glanced up and caught them watching her. She smiled a little, and Harry waved, but Ron looked quickly away. Her smile faltered a bit, and she turned her attention back to the star chart. Ron had started angrily flipping pages again, and Harry watched him for a minute, unable to make out the comments he was muttering under his breath.

"Why don’t you just tell her?" Harry asked at long last, and Ron’s head snapped up.

"What?" he asked blankly.

"I said," he replied patiently but pointedly, "why don’t you just tell her?"

"Tell who what?" he responded, slapping his book shut.

Harry gaped at him. "Are you serious? Do you have any idea how transparent you are?"

Ron’s scowl turned angry. "Harry, I’m not in the mood for guessing games. Either say what you’re trying to say, or-"

Harry sighed loudly. "Tell Hermione how you feel about her."

Ron was stunned into silence, and his mouth fell open a little. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Harry studied his expression. He did look genuinely shocked, but he wasn’t looking him in the eye. And his ears were definitely turning pink. Had he even admitted it to himself?

"What?" Ron asked defensively.

Harry shook his head, and turned his attention back to his book, smiling inwardly. "Never mind."

Ron didn’t respond and after a moment, Harry heard the loud flipping of pages once again.

* * * * *

Across the room, Hermione withdrew herself from the table and sat down in a chair next to Seamus instead. She leaned back, and allowed him to try work out the position of Saturn himself. He was staring at the parchment, but Hermione noticed that his eyes weren’t moving across it at all.

"Hermione?" he asked her, not looking up.

"Hmm?"

"I really appreciate you helping me. I mean, I know you could be using this time to study yourself..."

"It’s okay. I like to help."

He nodded and swallowed. "I know, because you’re such a nice person, and..." He turned his head to look at her, and then snapped it back, as though that had obviously been the wrong thing to do. He squeezed his eyes shut and then blurted out, "I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out with me sometime." He let out a very relieved sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath for hours...maybe he had...

Hermione’s stomach did a huge somersault. She had utterly failed to see that coming. "Oh. Wow. Seamus..." her voice trailed off as her brain fully absorbed his words. A hundred different emotions surged through her head at once - immense flattery, total shock, and utmost horror, to name a few. How could she say no?...How could she say yes? Issues that were long suppressed and never, ever examined suddenly leapt to the forefront of her mind, and there was no denying them. Seamus’ breathing was now coming in deep, quickening gasps as he blushed progressively darker, never lifting his eyes from the table. She had to say something...

"Seamus, I’m so enormously flattered," she began.

A sort of dry grunt issued from Seamus’ throat. "...but I’ve just made a huge fool of myself, and you think I’m a repulsive git."

"No!" Hermione straightened quickly, and grasped his wrist. He bristled a little at her touch, and she withdrew her hand tentatively. Oh, this was horrible. She had been so shocked, she hadn’t had time to react properly, and now his vulnerability and embarrassment hung thickly in the air, and she got the distinct impression that he would do anything to be able to turn time back 60 seconds and keep his mouth shut. What on earth could she say?...

"Seamus, I think you’re wonderful," she tried again, and he scoffed.

"Is this where the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bit comes in?" he asked, finally casting a glance her way.

Adopting the most gentle and sincere tone she could muster, and leaning forward on the table to look him in the eye, she said, "Seamus, if circumstances were different for me, I would be thrilled to have you ask me out. Dozens of girls here would jump at the chance to go out with you. You’re kind, and funny, and handsome, and thoughtful -" he looked away, and she hesitated, involuntarily lifting her gaze to the table across the room. Nearly in the same instant, she forced her eyes back to Seamus and said, "The truth is Seamus, I can’t say yes because it wouldn’t be fair to you. I...well..." she closed her eyes, her heart pounding furiously in anticipation of what she was about to say...what would somehow become real for the first time once she said the words... She took a deep breath. Apparently this was an evening for confessions. "There’s sort of...someone else."

His head snapped up at that. "What?"

"Well, we’re not exactly...together...but I just couldn’t -"

Slowly dawning understanding crept into his expression and he cut her off with a dry laugh. "Oh, right. I get it. Who wants the bumbling idiot when they can have the charming hero? Of course...you’re with him all the time. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I should have known."

"What?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, and then understanding dawned on her as well. "Oh,...no, it’s not..." She had to smile. "It’s not Harry. And you are not a bumbling idiot. Don’t ever say that."

"It’s not Harry?"

She shook her head, smiling, "No."

"Then..." Seamus’ own eyes now shifted to the table across the room. "Oh," he said flatly.

"I’m sorry."

After a moment, he looked back to her and feigned a light-hearted shrug. "Hey. Just forget about it. Let’s just pretend this whole thing never happened. I didn’t say anything, and you didn’t say anything, and we just worked on some astronomy, and now we’re done, so I’ll just be going...." he hastily gathered his papers and Hermione reached out and laid a hand over them.

"I’m sorry," she repeated.

He didn’t say anything, just nodded, and she drew back, allowing him to finish gathering his things. He left without a word, and Hermione stared after him for a long time, feeling terrible, and suddenly very tired. She glanced towards Harry and Ron and caught Harry staring at her again, this time with a concerned expression. Was her face really that lucid, even from across the room? She sighed and rose from her seat, dragging her bag along with her to her friends’ table.

"What are you two working on?" she asked, flopping down in the empty chair next to Harry as he moved some books aside to make room for her things. "A Beginner’s Guide to Experimental Immortality: Why Die?" she read off a binding.

"Yeah, you know," Ron said wryly, "Just a little helpful instruction manual on how to overcome the most primary law of nature, no biggie."

Harry rolled his eyes, and Hermione ignored Ron’s comment. "Actually," she said, "I’ve been meaning to talk to you about...thiiiis," she yawned.

"Tired?" Harry asked jokingly.

"I guess," she shrugged, pushing her emotionally draining conversation with Seamus firmly out of her mind.

"Maybe you’re getting sick again," Ron put in.

"I’m fine," she said, avoiding his eyes. Honestly, where did he acquire this talent for always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time? "Harry, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about this immortality business."

He looked at her questioningly, obviously hoping for some valuably intelligent insight. "And?"

She let out a breath. "And as much as I hate to admit it, I think you might be on to something here."

Ron looked horrified, but Harry smiled gratefully. "You do?"

"Yes. I don’t know what I’m expecting for us to discover, or what to do with the information once we have it, but I somehow feel that you’re on the right track."

"I never took you for the kind to turn to divination over your brain, Hermione," Ron snapped, and she flinched at his biting tone. "This whole thing is crazy! Harry, I’m trying to be supportive, I really am, but I just don’t understand why you feel the need to take on the Dark Lord yourself! After what you’ve been through, I would think that you’d rather see yourself running as fast as you can in the opposite direction, than -"

"Ron," Harry interrupted in a low voice so fiercely intense that Ron quickly fell silent, "I cannot sit by and do nothing. It would drive me mad. He’s in my head - all - the - time." He tapped his fist to the side of his head to illustrate his point and it was balled so tightly that the veins stood out like ropes. "I don’t know what I’m trying to do. I don’t know what I’m looking for or if I’ll even find anything useful. But he’s here constantly. And if he’s going to be in my head anyway, at least I can try to turn that into something beneficial - something that will keep me sane. Because if I can’t focus that energy on something, I am going to lose it. Literally. And all I have to go on is what I know, what he said to me. And that’s two things. One, he wants me dead. And two, he wants immortality. That’s all I know. And I’m not getting anything from Dumbledore, or Sirius, or anyone else. So that doesn’t leave me a lot of options." He finished his diatribe with a shaky breath, and his jaw twitched and then relaxed, teeth unclenching. His voice had been so full of quiet fury that it seemed to have drained his energy and Hermione realized that she had goosebumps. She could almost see the frustrated rage well up inside him, and for the first time she wondered how truly and innately powerful he might be. She thought back to the boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express four years ago, and then, looking at the boy before her now, wondered how it could be that they were one and the same. Was this who he was, who he would have been growing up to be regardless of Voldemort’s influence? Or had Voldemort created this in him - this intensity, this anger, this sense of obligation to take on evil and conquer it? Hermione tore her eyes from his face and turned them to Ron, who sat rigidly in his chair, looking as shocked as if he had been slapped.

"All right," Ron said at last. "Where do we start?"