Harry Potter and the Carnelian Key

Dumbledore had an announcement the following Monday during breakfast.

"May I have everyone´s attention, please?"

Dumbledore rose from his chair at the head table and regarded the students with a gravity that quickly filled the room with silence. Harry sat up straight and tried very hard to ignore the eyes he felt on him.

This was the first time since his nightmare on Saturday night that Harry had been in the presence of the entire school. He had spent most of Sunday holed up in his room, alone. When he´d come downstairs to the common room late on Sunday morning, he´d stopped still, realizing that everyone was staring at him. Even Ron and Hermione had seemed to be treating him too carefully, so after spending only a few minutes in the presence of his housemates, he had retreated back upstairs, away from the eyes and whispers. But he couldn´t hide away forever. He had to face everyone eventually, and now it was clear that his fit of hysteria had been the talk of the school the day before. While Harry had very strong suspicions that Dumbledore´s announcement had nothing whatsoever to do with him, it was becoming quite obvious that everyone else did.

"I am sure you have all noticed," Dumbledore began, "that there is an empty chair here at the head table. Professor Snape, I regret to tell you, has had to leave Hogwarts temporarily." Immediately, people began whispering all over the Great Hall. "He is away on business," Dumbledore continued, "and it is not clear when he will be returning. I know this comes as a shock to you all, and I am sure you are all concerned about what will happen regarding your Potions lessons while he is away. You needn´t be worried, however. Your studies will not suffer in his absence. He has left very clear instructions, and in his stead, I will be teaching his lessons." Dumbledore said all of this very matter-of-factly, then resumed his seat.

A low murmur was echoing around the Great Hall. Harry felt sure that if the mood was lighter, it would have been a loud cheer instead.

"Dumbledore is going to be our teacher?"

"How´d we get so lucky to get rid of Snape?"

"Why do you suppose they don´t just find a substitute?"

"Maybe now we can hope for decent marks!"

"Where do you reckon he´s gone?"

The Gryffindors´ mutterings whirled about Harry´s head and he did his best to shut them out, focusing very hard on his eggs. Admittedly, it was quite something to have Dumbledore announce he would be teaching Potions. It was the last thing anyone would have expected, including Harry, and under ordinary circumstances, Harry would have been thrilled. Maybe he could hope for a decent mark now, and it would certainly be interesting to see the Headmaster at work in the classroom. But given the reason for Snape´s departure, Harry would have traded it all back in a second to have things return to normal.

But things seemed normal enough when the mail arrived a few minutes later. Owls began swooping into the Great Hall and were greeted with nearly the usual level of enthusiasm. Three owls dropped purposefully down toward the Gryffindor table, depositing letters into the hands of Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley twins. Harry barely had a chance to glance at his, however, before he heard a very fearful "Uh oh."

Fred Weasley was holding a bright red envelope in his hand, addressed in what Harry recognized as Mrs. Weasley´s penmanship. Fred looked to his twin with horror, and both their faces drained of all color.

The envelope began to shake, and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before disaster struck. "You´d better open it," he told them, backing away. Fred nodded, gulping. He ran a trembling finger beneath the wax seal and opened the envelope.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY, I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO ASHAMED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!"

Everyone in the Great Hall, even the twins and Harry, who had known what was coming, jumped at the sudden noise of Mrs. Weasley´s shouting. The walls of the Great Hall shook as her voice boomed out, echoing inhumanly.

"OF ALL THE CRAZY, THOUGHTLESS THINGS YOU HAVE EVER DONE, THIS IS ABSOLUTELY THE FINAL STRAW! STEALING FROM THE HEADMASTER! I AM APPALLED! I REALLY THOUGHT YOUR FATHER AND I HAD RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THAT! YOU ARE BOTH LUCKY THAT PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE HASN´T THROWN YOU BOTH OUT, AND I CAN´T SAY I WOULD BLAME HIM IF HE DID! HE´S A MORE PATIENT PERSON THAN I, BECAUSE IF I COULD GET MY HANDS ON BOTH OF YOU RIGHT NOW I THINK I WOULD POSITIVELY RING YOUR NECKS! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?"

"We were thinking of Harry!" George told his mother helplessly, even though he knew perfectly well she couldn´t hear him.

"YOU HAD BOTH BETTER MIND YOURSELVES FROM NOW ON! IF I HEAR ONE MORE WORD THAT YOU HAVE BEEN STEPPING OUT OF LINE, YOU HAD BETTER HOPE THAT YOU DO NOT GET EXPELLED, BECAUSE IF YOU GET SENT HOME, YOU WILL NOT WANT TO MEET WITH ME, I PROMISE YOU THAT! HRMPH!"

And with that, the letter tore itself into little pieces and fell in a smoking pile in front of Fred and George.

The dead silence that followed left everyone´s ears ringing. It was broken only by a few indiscreet snickers from the direction of the Slytherin table. Harry glanced up at the head table, and saw Dumbledore looking at the twins with a slight smirk, winking at them as he took a bite of his oatmeal. The twins were bright red and looked very guilty as they swept the ruins of the Howler into their hands and onto their plates.

"Well, I wonder what she wants with me," Hermione said nervously from her spot next to Harry. Harry looked at her curiously and realized she was holding a letter that looked very much like the Howler Fred and George had just received, except that the parchment envelope was a lovely pale blue. It too, however, was addressed in Mrs. Weasley´s handwriting. Hermione looked uncertainly at Ron, who just shrugged, and Hermione carefully ripped the wax seal of her own letter, watching it expectantly, if fearfully.

"Hello, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley´s voice said warmly, in shocking contrast to the tone of the Howler. "I received Ron´s owl the other day, telling me about the two of you, and I just wanted to tell you how happy I am to hear he´s found himself a girl like you. I really couldn´t be more pleased. You tell him I said he had better treat you nicely or he will have to deal with me."

Ron´s face contorted with fear at those words. "Don´t worry! I will!"

Mrs. Weasley´s voice became clipped as the letter spun in the air to face Fred and George.

"At least I know I´ve raised one of my boys to know what´s good for him!" The letter, which had fashioned itself into a sort of mouth to speak, stuck its tongue out at the twins, and then shriveled up like the Howler had only minutes before.

Hermione beamed as she scooped up the mess of her letter. The twins scowled.

"Well, what does she have to say to you, then?" Ron inquired, motioning toward the letter in Harry´s hand.

"Oh," Harry said, having forgotten all about his own mail. He turned it over in his hands. "It´s not from her," he told Ron quietly. The letter Harry had received was just a normal yellow parchment envelope, addressed to him in a messy scrawl. "It´s from Sirius."

Harry´s stomach clenched. Why would Sirius be writing to him? Was something wrong?

"Well, open it," Ron told him. Harry nodded, and tore the letter open.

Dear Harry,

I spoke to Dumbledore yesterday and he told me what happened on Saturday night. Are you all right? I had hoped I would get an owl from you yourself, but I suppose you were busy recuperating. It´s no matter, though, because I´m here right now, in Dumbledore´s office, and I want to see you. Can you come up after breakfast? Dumbledore knows I´m here, and he´s excusing you from class to come talk to me.

Hope to see you in a few minutes,

Snuffles

Harry felt his face light up. Sirius was there? It had been months since he had spoken with his godfather in person, and the last time they´d met, they´d done nothing but argue. Harry felt a rush of warmth at the knowledge that Sirius was there, in the very castle, and found that he suddenly couldn´t wait to leave the Great Hall and find him. He quickly muttered an explanation to Hermione and Ron, and after being promised by Hermione that she would bring him all of her Defense Against the Dark Arts notes for that morning´s lesson, he hurriedly gathered his things and took off in the direction of Dumbledore´s office.

As usual, Harry arrived at the foot of the staircase to the Headmaster´s office having no idea how he was going to get in. He had a pretty strong feeling that Dumbledore would have changed the password since Fred and George had snuck in, so he wasn´t surprised that nothing happened when he said "Fizzing Whizzbee."

"Um...Sugar Quill?" he tried. Still nothing. "Pumpkin Pasties? Cauldron Cakes?"

Much to Harry´s surprise, the wall began to move, and soon the staircase was exposed. He couldn´t believe the Headmaster was continuing to be so careless with his passwords, but then he realized he hadn´t been the one to make the wall open. A large black dog was bounding down the steps, eager to greet Harry.

"Careful," Harry warned him. "Someone will see you!" But Harry´s warning went unheeded as the dog jumped on him, nearly causing him to lose his footing on the second stair, and began licking his face madly. Harry spluttered, trying to push the dog off. "Gross, Snuffles!" he complained, but he couldn´t help but smile as he wiped slobber off his face. Snuffles let out a bark and went bounding up the stairs. Harry followed, hearing the wall slide shut behind him, and entered the Headmaster´s office just in time to see Sirius transform back into a human, wearing a large grin.

"You´re a hazard," Harry told him, using the front of his robes to dry his face.

"Blame the dog," Sirius told him teasingly. "I can´t help his instincts."

"That´s a lie. You just like to be irritating."

"Ah, well, this is true." Sirius dropped onto the leather sofa near the fireplace, spreading his arms out across the back. His face took on a more solemn expression. "How are you, Harry? I´ve been worried."

"I´m fine," Harry told him, sinking into an armchair across from his godfather. It was true, for the most part, at least physically speaking. He hadn´t had any more pain since Madam Pomfrey had treated him and he´d drank Snape´s Ennevra Juice the night of his dream. Psychologically, however, he was just doing his best to not think about what he had seen and heard. Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. Something about seeing a person´s insides leave their body tended to stick in one´s head. "How are you?" he asked Sirius. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to speak to Dumbledore about...a few things. And since I was here, I wanted to be sure to see you. What on earth happened, Harry?"

Harry explained all about his dream of Voldemort and Karkaroff, and how he had woken up in excruciating pain. It was clear that none of it was news to Sirius, but he obviously wanted to hear it straight from Harry himself, so Harry obliged him.

"Are you sure you´re okay?" Sirius asked him when he was through, looking very concerned. "Have you been feeling all right since then?"

"I´m fine," Harry assured him. It was already bad enough the way Ron and Hermione had been looking at him the past two days; he didn´t need it from Sirius too, so he decided not to tell his godfather about the fact that he couldn´t get Karkaroff out of his mind. "My scar hasn´t hurt at all since I drank Snape´s potion," Harry said.

"Mmmm. Yes, of course," Sirius seemed to grow distracted at the mention of Snape, and Harry´s own mood darkened further.

"So, um...do you know what the Council will do now that Snape´s gone?" Harry asked. "He was the best chance we had to find anything out about Voldemort."

"Yes, and you know all about that, I understand," Sirius said sternly.

Harry recoiled. Obviously Dumbledore had told Sirius that Harry had snuck into the Council meeting. Would his godfather punish him somehow? What could he do to him?

"Right. Er...I´m sorry. Are you angry?"

"You´re not sorry, Harry," Sirius said, and Harry flinched a bit at the accusatory words until he realized that Sirius was wearing a small smile. "You wouldn´t be James´ son if you were."

Harry felt his own lips curl up, but he tried to fight it. He knew he wasn´t going to win any points by smiling at his own severe disregard for the rules, especially since Sirius was fixing him with a scolding expression once again. "I´m not angry, but Harry, you really do need to be more careful. You had no idea what you could have been getting yourself into that evening, and it´s only lucky for you that it was nothing dangerous. Not that time, anyway."

"I know," Harry said guiltily. "But if someone would just fill me in once in a while," he added pointedly, "then maybe I wouldn´t need to sneak around to find things out."

"Or maybe you could just trust us and know that you don´t need to find anything out that we´re not telling you. We know what we´re doing, Harry."

Sirius had him with that one, and Harry didn´t know what else to say, except for the truth.

"I just feel so helpless."

Sirius sighed. "I know you do, and I understand that. But worrying about Voldemort is our job. Leave it to us. Your job is to study and to play Quidditch."

Harry snorted. "Fat load of good that does anyone."

"It does you a fat load of good," Sirius countered. "And that´s all that matters."

Harry sighed. Why was it that no one could ever understand why he felt so invested?

"And as for what the Council will do now, without Snape," Sirius continued, "we´ll regroup and decide what our next best strategy is. And you will not worry yourself about it."

Yeah, as if it´s that easy, Harry thought to himself.

As if sensing what Harry was thinking, Sirius added, "I mean it."

Harry nodded appeasingly, and then studied his godfather for a moment. He had leaned back in his seat, running his fingers through his hair and looking very...tired. Harry knew Sirius would probably never look as bad as he had when Harry had first met him, but right now he didn´t look like anything Harry would call good. His eyes drooped at the corners and his face was gaunt, as if he hadn´t been sleeping much or eating well. He looked thinner than he had the last time Harry had seen him, which had only been just over a month ago at the Council meeting, and his hair seemed lighter - more gray and less black than Harry remembered.

"What?" Sirius asked him.

"Nothing. You just...you look tired."

"Your mother used to tell me that," Sirius said vacantly. "It was her way of telling me I looked like shit." Sirius cleared his throat. "It was her way of telling me I looked bad, I meant to say."

Harry smirked. "Well, are you...you know, taking care of yourself, and everything?" Harry realized he really had little idea just what it was his godfather got up to on a daily basis, aside from hiding his identity and tracking down evil wizards, of course.

"Sure," he replied. "Remus cooks for me." Sirius looked amused by this. "And he makes me eat it. Horrible cook, Remus is, but he looks out for me. We look out for each other."

Harry was relieved to hear it. He was sort of surprised to realize he was worrying about them, just the way they were worrying about him, he supposed. Aside from the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus were really all Harry had outside of Hogwarts, and they had been his fathers´ best friends. He found himself wanting to be sure they were all right, and he suspected that if his father were alive, he wouldn´t have to worry about it.

"And Arabella comes by sometimes to check on us," Sirius continued. "Now that she knows I´m innocent too." Sirius was smiling broadly, and Harry was happy for him, glad that his godfather was finally gaining back some of the life he´d been robbed of for twelve years.

"She was good friends with all of you too, wasn´t she?" Harry asked, remembering how Sirius and Mrs. Figg had seemed to know each other during the Council meeting.

"Yes, she was. She and your mother were very close especially. The rest of us didn´t really become close with her until after Hogwarts. She was in Hufflepuff, you see, so we didn´t really know each other that well in school. But your mother became friends with her in fourth year when they realized they had something in common; Arabella´s grandmother lived in the same neighborhood where your mother had grown up in Little Whinging."

Sirius spoke lightly, but Harry suddenly felt like he´d slammed headlong into a brick wall.

"What did you just say?"

"I said they became friends in fourth year-"

"No, no, not that. About my mother growing up in...in Little Whinging?"

"What about it?" Sirius asked, not following.

Harry couldn´t believe it. His mother had grown up in the same town where he had lived with the Dursleys? He had never known. Could it really be true? Why hadn´t Petunia ever mentioned she´d grown up there? He had always assumed she and Vernon had moved there after they´d married.

"I never knew," Harry said simply, feeling numb.

Sirius stared at him. "You never knew that?" he asked, as if it should have been common knowledge.

Harry shook his head. "No."

Sirius just stared at him some more, as if he had never considered the possibility that Harry hadn´t known this bit of information. Harry wondered if Sirius realized how little he really knew about his own history. He wondered if anyone did.

"I never would have guessed you didn´t know that," Sirius said. "Yes, she grew up there with your Aunt Petunia, in a house not too far from where the Dursleys live now. I think it was...Coventry Circle, I want to say?"

"Cavanaugh Crescent?" Harry asked.

"Yes!" Sirius said, snapping his fingers. "That´s the one! Brick home, black shutters, I think, with a little fence. On the corner. Always lots of flowers in the yard."

"You were there?"

"Sure," Sirius said with a shrug.

Harry needed a moment to let the news sink in. He thought he knew the very house his godfather was referring to, and couldn´t believe he´d never known his mother had lived there. They had driven by it countless times when he was growing up. Why had Petunia never said anything?

Harry asked the question out loud, and Sirius pursed his lips. "Well, I´m really not surprised, I guess. That aunt of yours wanted as little to do with the family as possible. I think she tried to forget any of them ever existed."

Harry had to push down a small wave of anger that threatened to rise at the fact that his aunt had kept this information from him his whole life. Why had she never told him? Did she think it was some kind of ultimate punishment, to drive him by his mother´s house on a daily basis, keeping from him the very knowledge that may have brought some comfort to his miserable life?

"Arabella´s grandmother lived just around the corner from the Evans´," Sirius was explaining. "It´s the house that Arabella lives in now. You see, Arabella was named after her grandmother, so they had the exact same name. During the war, Mrs. Figg fled. There was actually a very heavy wizarding population in that area back then, but during the war a lot of people left Britain. Mrs. Figg fled to America, where she still lives now. After your parents-" Sirius cut himself off at this point, then continued more carefully, "after everything was over, some people moved back to their homes or came out of hiding, but Mrs. Figg and the younger Arabella reached an agreement with Dumbledore. Mrs. Figg was to stay in America and Arabella was to move into her house to keep an eye on you. Mrs. Figg began sending Arabella locks of her hair so she could make the Polyjuice Potion. She still does that even now, which is how Arabella keeps her identity hidden. Dumbledore didn´t want anyone to realize that he had people watching out for you. He didn´t want to draw any attention to you in Little Whinging."

"I just can´t believe it," Harry repeated.

"I´m sorry, Harry," Sirius said remorsefully. "I´m so sorry you never got to know anything about your family."

"So am I."

"I would tell you more, but I don´t really know anything else worth telling."

But it wasn´t enough. Harry needed to hear more. Between the Council meeting and his conversation with Sirius, he´d started getting a taste of his history and now he wanted nothing more than to learn everything there was to know about his parents. It was like giving a child a bite of a cookie and then telling him he couldn´t have any more, but the cookie jar was in front of him and he couldn´t resist. He needed to know where he had come from.

"You can tell me about my parents," Harry said softly.

Sirius started a bit at Harry´s words and his eyes creased painfully. He looked at Harry steadily for a long moment, and then spoke. "What -" His voice was raspy, and he broke eye contact, clearing his throat. "What do you want to know?"

Harry answered with a simple shrug. "Anything."

It was another moment before Sirius said anything. Harry just waited, and when his godfather finally began to speak, it was in a heavy and wistful voice. "They were the best people I´ve ever known."

Harry felt a deep tugging in his chest, but he smiled. "Why?"

"Your father," Sirius said, "was..." he seemed to be thinking of the best way to put it, and a small smile broke through as he laughed to himself, under his breath. "He was brilliant. Bloody brilliant."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah. There was nothing James couldn´t do, or figure out. He was probably the most curious person I have ever met, and the most resourceful. When he got a question in his head, or a mystery, or an assignment, he would not give up until he´d solved it somehow. He was dedicated to a fault, almost. He wasn´t nearly as reckless as I was, though, but I usually managed to be a sufficiently bad influence."

Harry grinned. "How so?"

"Oh, lord, did I get him into trouble." Sirius´ voice relaxed and Harry noted a definite gleam in his eye. "He was head boy, you know, and he deserved it. He tried so hard to be a stickler for rules. But holy hell, did I get him into trouble. Your mother would get so mad at him." Sirius was grinning now and it made Harry grin further. "He would have some problem or another, and he´d be dying to find a way to fix it or solve it, and I would always come up with a way...not always a legal way, or a smart way, mind you, but a way. And he just couldn´t resist. His mind wouldn´t let him. We got away with things that would probably make Dumbledore´s hair curl, even now, but we honestly only ever did what we thought was right...most of the time."

That sounded like some other people Harry knew.

"But your mother would get so mad at him. He right well deserved it, of course, for the risks we took sometimes. But it was usually all my fault. We stressed that poor girl out so much." Sirius´ grin faltered a bit. "Way more than she deserved."

Harry´s own smile suddenly felt strained, and he let it fall away. "Tell me about my mother."

Sirius breathed deeply, exhaling on a sigh. "She was probably the most gentle person I have ever met. And God was she beautiful," he breathed. "More beautiful than should be allowed. When I found out that your father had asked her out and she had accepted, I couldn´t believe it." He chuckled at the memory. "Not that your father didn´t deserve the best, of course, I just couldn´t believe he´d had guts enough to do it. Of course, I was insanely jealous too, since I´d had my eye on her for two years but could never bring myself to ask her out."

"You´re kidding! Did my dad know?"

"Nah." Sirius waved his hand. "Never told him. I had a reputation to uphold, you see. People used to say I was as brave as James was brilliant. There was never anything I was afraid to do. Except ask out Lily Evans. She was...well, she was just a miracle of a person. Literally, in some ways."

Harry´s curiosity instantly piqued. "What do you mean?"

"Well...she had powers, Harry. Powers that weren´t generally seen in many witches or wizards, let along Muggle born ones. She wasn´t as clever as James, but she was so powerful, she didn´t need to be. She could have a charm mastered on the first try, just by virtue of the strength of her magic. James would get so annoyed. He was always so determined to do his best, he would study the charm for hours, and do it all exactly by the book, and she would just mumble the words and wave her wand, and she always did it perfectly. She saved us," Sirius said, eyes taking on a depth that carried more meaning than the words themselves, "more than once."

"How?" Harry asked, his voice coming out a lot quieter than he intended.

"In every way imaginable."

Harry thought of something, and he felt a knot in his chest. "Like the way she saved me?"

A thick silence pierced the air between them, and it hung there for a few moments before Sirius answered. "Something like that," he said.

"Is that why she was able to save me?" Harry pressed on. "By using all of her powers and...and sacrificing herself for me?"

"I suppose it was."

Harry felt his eyes stinging, but he couldn´t figure out why. He blinked several times. "What else was special about her?"

"What wasn´t special about her?" Sirius smiled. "Everyone loved her. Remus...she and Remus had a special sort of connection. I imagine it´s because she had such a way with animals, actually. She just felt drawn to them, and they to her. Professor Kettleburn used to just stand back and marvel at her in Care of Magical Creatures. She could control the animals better than he could. It was actually she who first turned us on to the notion that something wasn´t right about Remus. We all had suspicions, of course, that he wasn´t being completely himself with us. We knew he was hiding something. But Lily was the one who insisted it had something to do with his own well-being. She just sensed it. She didn´t even know him well then, or any of us, really, but she just knew."

Harry soaked up everything Sirius was saying like a dry sponge. He tried to imagine his mum and dad the way Sirius had seen them, wondering what it would have been like to have known them back then...or to know them now. He wondered if he was like them at all, or if everything they would have instilled in him had been lost, stamped out by years of Petunia´s bitterness and Vernon´s iron fist. It cut him to think that he´d been robbed of becoming a better person because he hadn´t had their influence in his life. He wondered if he was at all the kind of person they´d hoped he would be.

"Sirius?" Harry asked. "Am I..." his voice faltered, and he took a deep breath, forcing himself to say the words even though he was nervous about the answer. "Am I like them at all?"

His godfather´s face opened with a warmth that made Harry´s insides ache. "Harry, you are them."

Harry just stared, blinking again because of the darned stinging, and when Sirius added, "You are more like them than any of us deserve," Harry had to look away.

"You know," Sirius said gently when Harry´s eyes left him, "after you and Hermione rescued me that night when I was almost Kissed by the Dementors, I had no idea what to do. I didn´t really know where to go, and all I could think about was Remus, and how wonderful it felt that he finally knew I was innocent, and how all I wanted to do was see him and talk to him. So I tracked him down, and I just showed up on his doorstep one day. And after twelve years of being apart, and of everything that we wanted to say to each other - everything that needed saying - do you want to know what he did?"

Harry nodded.

"He told me to come in, and he sat me down with a cup of tea, and he sat down across from me, and the first thing he said was, `It´s unbelievable, isn´t it?´. I asked him what was unbelievable, and he said, `how much of James and Lily you can see when you look at Harry.´"

Harry heard himself sniff, which horrified him, and he took two very deep breaths, pushing the lump in his throat back down into his stomach.

"Now, if that doesn´t answer your question, I don´t know what will."

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Harry composed himself, extremely embarrassed to have nearly come apart, but feeling more complete, somehow, than he had for as long as he could remember.

"Thank you," he said finally.

Harry could hear the smile in Sirius´ voice. "You´re welcome."

"Can you just tell me one more thing?" Harry asked, taking one last chance. He had to know. He didn´t know why it had become so important to him to find out, but he just had to know.

"What is it?"

"What was my mother´s job? I know that my father helped to save people from Voldemort, but what did she do? Was she a seer, like Arabella Figg?"

Harry held his breath. Sirius just looked at him, for such a long time that Harry wondered if he wasn´t going to answer. And then finally, sounding almost defeated, Sirius said, "It was her most astonishing power."

Harry´s breath left him. He had suspected as much, from the conversation he´d had with Dumbledore on Saturday night, but having it confirmed left a million thoughts swimming around in his head. Most importantly, it left him wondering... "Did she work in Dumbledore´s Council too, then, like you and my dad?"

Again, Sirius seemed to be thinking very carefully about his answer. Harry´s mind was racing. Why did this topic seem to elicit such odd reactions from both Dumbledore and his godfather? Was it just because of the painful memory of what a misinterpreted prophecy had led to? Or was there something more?

"Yes, she did. She and Arabella worked together to try and help us anticipate Voldemort´s next move. They were extremely valuable members of the Council."

Harry swelled a bit with pride, then asked daringly, "And...the prophecies?" He figured if he´d come this far, he may as well go all the way. "The Night of the Prophecies. Did that night involve my mother and Arabella?"

Sirius sighed and looked away, as if he couldn´t think reasonably while looking into his godson´s pleading face. "Did you ask Dumbledore that question?" Sirius asked diplomatically.

"Sort of."

"And did he answer you?"

"Not really."

"Then I think I´ve told you all I can."

Harry was disappointed but not surprised. He mulled over the information he´d just learned and studied his godfather, who looked weathered. Harry wondered if he had taken advantage of him and asked too much.

"Are you staying at the castle long?" Harry finally asked, feeling it was time to let Sirius off the hook somewhat.

"No. Dumbledore and I have finished discussing what I came to speak to him about. I was just waiting for you."

"Thank you for telling me all of this. I´m glad I was able to see you."

"Me too," Sirius smiled, rising. "But you should get going. You´ve already missed one class today, and Dumbledore said he didn´t want you to miss your first Potions lesson with him as teacher." Sirius winked. "I wouldn´t want him to give me a detention or anything."

"Weird, isn´t it?" Harry asked. "That Dumbledore will be teaching?"

"Indeed. You´ll have to let me know how it is. Send me an owl once in a while, will you?" he asked, slightly scolding, though he was still smiling.

"I will," Harry said.

"All right, off you go then," Sirius told him, shooing him toward the door.

Harry went before him, and just as they reached the door, Harry turned around to say goodbye. Without warning, he found himself stepping forward and putting his arms around his godfather in a tight embrace. Sirius seemed a little surprised at first, but then lifted his arms around Harry and squeezed back.

"All right," Sirius said when they pulled back a moment later. "Hurry up now, you wouldn´t want to be late."

Harry went for the door, pulling it open and turning back once more. "Thanks, Sirius," he said again, as sincerely as he could, and then he left the room.

********************

Harry still felt a bit numb when he reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He was just in time to meet Hermione and Ron for the walk down to the dungeons for Potions. He wanted nothing more than to just sit down with his two best friends and tell them everything he´d talked about with Sirius, but it would have to wait. His classmates were filing out of the classroom, buzzing excitedly, and when Harry spotted Hermione and Ron, their faces were alight.

"Oh, Harry, you won´t believe it!" Hermione told him when she found him waiting for them beside a rusty statue of a Re´em. "We started a new topic today. You´ll be so sorry you missed it!"

"Why, what is it?" he asked.

"Dueling!" Ron told him.

"Dueling? Really?" The only exposure they´d had to dueling in school had been back in second year, when Gilderoy Lockhart had attempted to start up a dueling club. Not surprisingly, they hadn´t learned much.

"Yup. We´re going to be studying it for the rest of the term," Ron said. "Part of our final exam will be a duel with another student! Professor Matlock said she´ll choose the pairs based on our abilities, to make it fair. That way the best will battle the best, and the worst..." Ron´s voice strayed as his eyes flitted over to Neville, who was ahead of them on a staircase. Neville seemed to be walking somewhat stiffly, as if still shaking off the effects of an unblocked leg-locker curse. "Won´t get killed," Ron finished.

"She told us we´ll be graded on our overall performances," Hermione provided, "and not primarily on who wins or loses the duel."

Dueling. Harry repeated the word in his head. Aside from Lockhart´s club, the only real dueling experience Harry had came from his unpleasant encounter with Voldemort the previous June. It certainly could´ve helped him then if he´d had some genuine instruction under his belt. This was good, he told himself. This could help him.

The Gryffindors reached the Potions classroom, joined by the Slytherins, and entered somewhat apprehensively, but excitedly. Dumbledore was standing at the front of the room, smiling broadly and welcoming people to the class.

Already, it was a better lesson than it had ever been with Snape teaching.

"I know you all must be terribly upset that your Professor has had to leave," Dumbledore began when everyone was seated.

Seamus Finnigan snorted. Draco Malfoy snapped his head towards him, glaring menacingly. Dumbledore seemed to take no notice of the exchange, and when Malfoy swiveled his eyes to Harry, Harry stared the Slytherin down unrelentingly until Malfoy looked away, scowling.

"I do not pretend," Dumbledore said, "that I possess nearly the level of knowledge about Potions as our dear Professor Snape. But I will do my best to not muddle things up too badly. Open your books, please," the Headmaster told them, and the sound of twenty students shuffling around in their bags filled the dungeon. "We will be brewing the Amnavera Potion today," Dumbledore announced, "which is listed on page one hundred sixty-seven of your textbook. We will be working individually today."

"But we always work in pairs," Malfoy challenged. Every eye in the room turned to him, staring unbelievably at the person who would dare speak up to the Headmaster.

Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow, and said lightly, "Is that true, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy nodded, smirking.

"Well, sometimes change is good, no? Everyone please come forward one at a time to collect your ingredients."

Malfoy conveniently stood behind Harry in line, saying to Crabbe and Goyle behind him, "It would be just like Dumbledore to come into our best class and screw everything up, wouldn´t it? I can´t believe we have to sit here and listen to that old codger telling us how to brew Potions. Snape would die if he knew. Just wait until my father-"

Harry whirled. "Why don´t you just shut up, Malfoy?"

"Why don´t you," Malfoy snapped, "mind your own business, Potter?"

Ron stepped closer, hand on his wand. "We started dueling in Defense Against the Dark Arts today, Malfoy," Ron told him, speaking quietly so the Headmaster wouldn´t overhear. His tone, however, was deadly. "I could take your legs off and make them grow out of your head, if you´d like." His fingers twitched and Malfoy´s eyes flickered to Ron´s wand, then over to where Dumbledore stood, overseeing the ingredients.

"I´d like to see you try, Weasley."

The two boys stared each other down until Hermione stepped out of her place in front of Ron and pulled him back into the line, grabbing Harry´s sleeve with her other hand and forcing him to turn back around. "Oh, honestly," she tutted. "Stop it. Just ignore him."

The group made it to the front of the line without killing anyone, and they all collected their ingredients, then set in on their work. Dumbledore walked the aisles, peering into cauldrons and offering praise when deserved, and advice where needed.

"I think, Mr. Longbottom," he said thoughtfully, "that just another touch..." Dumbledore took up a pinch of a grayish powder from Neville´s work table and sprinkled it into his cauldron. Neville´s face went red and his posture stiffened, just like it always did whenever Snape came over to criticize his work. The mixture in the cauldron bubbled as the powder made contact, and it turned a definite shade darker, smoking lightly. "Ah," Dumbledore said, patting Neville on the shoulder, "Good work, Mr. Longbottom." Dumbledore moved down the aisle and Neville´s face froze in shock. He looked around uncertainly as if he couldn´t believe his good fortune, then grinned and went back to stirring his potion. Harry caught Ron´s eye and they both smiled. Harry felt Malfoy staring at him, but when he looked up, the Slytherin snarled in Neville´s direction instead. Harry sighed.

The rest of the Potions lesson passed uneventfully, and afterwards, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had half an hour to kill before lunch. Hermione, of course, pulled them off in the direction of the library. Instead of settling in at their usual table, however, she led them to the very back, near the restricted section, where they found a private table in a deserted corner.

"So what did Snuffles have to say?" Hermione asked immediately.

Harry told them all about his discussion with Sirius, including everything Sirius had told him about his parents and Arabella Figg. He left out the bits that were embarrassing for himself, of course, but he included everything Sirius had said about his mother having grown up in Little Whinging, and the Night of the Prophecies, including the odd way Sirius had reacted when Harry had asked him about his mother´s job as a seer. When he finished, Hermione was looking very thoughtful.

"You know what I´m thinking?" she asked.

"Do we ever know anything about what you´re thinking?" Ron asked.

Hermione pointedly ignored him. "I´m just wondering...Harry, it´s been fairly clear that no one has really wanted to tell you much about your mother being a seer. And Dumbledore has always refused to tell you why your family was ever targeted in the first place...do you think this is why? Do you think Voldemort knew Dumbledore was using your mother´s powers as a seer to try and outwit him, and that´s why he wanted to kill your family? Do you think he was afraid that your mother would eventually expose him, and he wanted to kill her before she could reveal too much about his whereabouts and his strategy?"

It was something Harry hadn´t yet considered, and he thought about it intently. "No," he said after a minute. "No, that can´t be it. I don´t think Voldemort knew my mother´s powers as a seer were a threat to him. He...he told me that my mother didn´t have to die. She only died because she sacrificed herself for me. He even..." Harry´s voice trailed off as he remembered back to third year, when he´d been plagued by the Dementors. He remembered what he´d heard whenever they got too near him...his mother, asking for mercy, and what Voldemort had said to her. "He even told her to stand aside," Harry said dryly, "when he was trying to kill me. It was me and my father he was after. He didn´t care about my mum."

"Then, why?" Hermione asked, more to herself than to Harry. "I still don´t understand why. He must have had a reason to want you and your father dead."

"It´s something to do with the Night of the Prophecies," Harry said, his voice sounding empty even to his own ears. "I know it."

Ron and Hermione were doing it again - looking at him as though he might shatter into a million pieces if they said anything more. He knew they only did it because they cared about him, but he hated it anyway, and he looked down at the table.

"Well..." Hermione said slowly, "Can I tell you what else I´m thinking?"

Harry looked up and shrugged. "Sure."

She glanced uncertainly at Ron, as if sharing some sort of secret conversation they frequently had in which they evaluated Harry´s state of mind. Ron just shrugged as well, and nodded for her to speak. "Well, I think that your mother, Harry..." she hesitated, considering her words carefully, "may have made the very prophecy that..." she looked definitively uncomfortable, so Harry finished the sentence for her.

"Ended up killing her and my dad."

Ron and Hermione both looked thunderstruck - Ron undoubtedly because this was something he hadn´t considered up till now, and Hermione because she was shocked Harry had already reached this conclusion.

"It´s the only thing that makes sense," Harry said. "Why else would it make everyone so uncomfortable to talk about it? She and Arabella Figg were seers together, and Arabella got extremely uncomfortable at the Council meeting when Fletcher mentioned the Night of the Prophecies. She was my mum´s best friend. It has to be painful for her to remember my mother making that prophecy, knowing that in the end, it had only led to her death."

Hermione was nodding and Ron was just watching him with an expression Harry couldn´t really read.

"And then," Harry continued, "there´s the other prophecy. The one that involves me, somehow. I think Arabella made that one, because she said it´s her fault that Voldemort is after me. It has to have something to do with me and Voldemort, and-"

"Stop."

Harry and Hermione both looked at Ron. "What?" Hermione asked him.

"I think we should stop," Ron said, looking suddenly stricken.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked. "Why?"

"Because I don´t want to talk about this anymore!" Ron pushed his chair back from the table and rose, moving determinedly away from his friends.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look of utter confusion, and Harry leapt to his feet, following after Ron and grabbing on to his arm to keep him from leaving.

"What´s wrong with you?"

"I don´t think we should talk about this," Ron said fiercely, turning back to face Harry. Harry started at the look he saw in his best friend´s face. Ron looked terrified, and his words spilled out shakily. "Remember what Arabella Figg said? Prophecies can be dangerous when they´re misinterpreted, and if this prophecy has to do with you and...and Voldemort, I don´t think it´s a very good idea to go around trying to figure it out!" Ron jerked his arm out of Harry´s grip, then finished more quietly. "It could get you killed," he said desperately.

Harry just stared at him, registering Ron´s words and the fear he saw in his best friend´s eyes.

"I hadn´t thought of that," Hermione said, sounding a little shaken now herself. "You´re right, Ron," she admitted. "It´s probably something better left unclear."

Ron refused to sit down again until Harry promised he wouldn´t give any more thought to the Night of the Prophecies. What did it matter, Ron demanded? The prophecies were made and there was nothing any of them could do to change it. Harry saw his point, but he was still so curious...and then he smirked a little bit, to himself, remembering what Sirius had said about him being like his parents, and how his father had been "the most curious person" Sirius had ever met.

"Okay," Harry told him. His mother would have been so proud, he mused. "We won´t talk about it anymore."

Ron regarded him dubiously. "And?"

"And I won´t think about it anymore either," he told him. "I promise."

"Well you´d bloody well better not," Ron said, returning to his seat. "Because if you go and get yourself killed, I swear, I´ll dig you up and kill you again."

********************

Harry kept his word to Ron. He didn´t think any more about the Night of the Prophecies. Even if he´d wanted to, there was no time. The Quidditch final was drawing nearer. Due to the standings in the Quidditch points, Gryffindor´s annual match against Slytherin would determine the winner of the Quidditch Cup; both teams were already ahead of both Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, so whichever team came out on top in the final match would take the Cup. One evening in mid-March, the Gryffindor team had snuck onto the pitch to watch the Slytherins practice and had come away with their confidence dangerously shaken. The Slytherin team worked like a well-oiled machine, and even Malfoy flew faster and more precisely than Harry remembered. It was obvious they´d been training hard, and as much as Harry hated to admit it, he knew Malfoy was turning into a rather formidable opponent. Their Chasers were even more intimidating, flying and shooting like some kind of force of nature. Angelina had turned into a madwoman after that, adding an additional two practices a week. With the intensified training schedule, Harry and Ron were now spending five nights a week on the Quidditch pitch, and some Saturdays as well. Hermione huffed, telling them they´d never be prepared for their OWLs if they didn´t start spending more time studying. Harry just didn´t see how they could - they barely had enough time to keep up with their regular homework, but they promised her they would start devoting much more time to OWL preparation after the final match, which was scheduled for the 13^th of April.

Meanwhile, Harry had no idea how Hermione was staying sane. There was never a time when she didn´t have a book in her hand. She´d become the last person to leave the common room at night, and the first one up every morning. She even studied during meals, and sometimes she´d be so wrapped up in her books that she´d forget to eat unless Harry or Ron shoved a plate under her nose.

In addition to her OWL preparation, Harry knew she was continuing to do research on the legend of the Carnelian Key, because sometimes he´d see Hawaiian Wizarding Astronomy: A Directory in her hand, or Magical Theory: A Hawaiian Perspective shoved in amongst her pile of Arithmancy, Potions, or History of Magic texts. And this was to say nothing of the extra dueling practice she insisted on engaging in. The Defense Against the Dark Arts final was the only one she couldn´t ace simply by studying insanely - to outperform someone in a duel required instincts and a quick mind and practice. Lots of practice. So Harry and Ron spent many late hours in the Defense classroom after Quidditch practices with her, throwing around curses.

As tiring as it was, their practice was clearly paying off. They quickly became the three best duelers in the class, and Professor Matlock was generous with her praise. Ron beamed every time the young witch sent a compliment his way, and it didn´t even seem to bother Hermione. She was too pleased with her own success to let it get her down. Harry was glad his best friends were turning out to be such good duelers, but it wasn´t because he was worried about their OWLs. Rather, he was taking comfort in knowing they would be able to protect themselves if...well, if they ever needed to.

However, as good as Ron and Hermione were at dueling, it was obvious to everyone that Harry was by far the best in the class. Professor Matlock raised an impressed eyebrow every time Harry threw out a curse they hadn´t covered in class, and whenever she asked him where he´d learned it, he replied with, "extra studying." Of course, she didn´t know that this extra studying had occurred months ago, when he´d been reading up on advanced Defense at the prodding of his godfather and Lupin. He´d had most of these curses memorized for ages, and it felt great to finally try them out and see if he could pull them off.

"Potter, Weasley, let´s see what you´ve got up your sleeves today," Professor Matlock said during class one day at the beginning of April.

For weeks now, the Defense classroom had been rearranged so that all the desks were lined up against the walls with a long dueling floor running the length of the room down the middle. Harry and Ron took the floor, wands at the ready. They bowed to each other, then moved to opposite ends of the floor where they assumed the proper dueling positions.

"Three, two, one!" Matlock counted.

"Lumos Solarum!" Harry bellowed, starting things off. An enormous blast of light issued from his wand, designed to impair Ron´s vision. Harry threw up an arm to shield his own eyes, and everyone in the room did the same. When the blinding flash cleared away, Ron became visible again, squinting, but unshaken.

"Musca Orbis!" Ron yelled. Harry felt his feet leave the floor as he was thrown into the air, somersaulting once and landing on his feet again, hard. A collective "Ooooh," rose from the class.

Harry and Ron took great fun in impressing their classmates with complicated curses. While most of the students were still mastering the simplicities of turning each other´s legs to jelly or making their opponents laugh uncontrollably, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were well beyond such basic tactics.

"Assidero!" Harry yelled.

Ron´s feet shot out from under him and he found himself sitting on the mat, rubbing his bottom. Everyone laughed, but Ron had his next curse ready in an instant.

Harry, however, was faster. "Vox Codex!" he cried just as Ron aimed his wand and opened his mouth to shout an incantation. Ron mouthed the words, but no sound came out. His hand flew to his throat, eyes wide, and it took him a moment to realize that Harry had silenced him.

Harry grinned, deciding he was having fun, and tried to think up some entertaining and unorthodox way to disarm Ron and end the duel. He didn´t know what made him think of it, but he suddenly found his head filled with images of Charms class, rather than Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the next word out of his mouth was "Slumberdicate."

He said it almost lazily, but the effect was instantaneous. Ron slumped to the floor, fast asleep. Laughter erupted again as Harry stepped over to his best friend, plucked his wand from his hand, and tickled his nose with it. Ron´s eyes flittered open and he smacked at his face, looking around in confusion. Harry just grinned at him and touched his own wand to Ron´s throat.

"Finite Incantatem."

The class broke into a light round of applause. Ron regarded Harry with a bemused sort of smile. "Show off," he muttered. Harry offered him a hand, which Ron took, pulling himself to his feet.

"Excellent work, boys," Professor Matlock said, smiling appreciatively. "I´d like you to try it again. But this time, forget about trying to entertain us, okay? Let´s see you being serious."

"Right," Harry said. He returned Ron´s wand to him and they bowed once again. Harry breathed deeply as he returned to his end of the dueling floor, forcing himself to re-focus, telling himself to think of Ron as an enemy, and to take him down. When he turned around to face Ron, he saw his own refreshed intensity reflected back at him in his best friend´s eyes. Their first duel had just been a warm-up. This was for real.

"Three, two, one!"

"Petrificus Totalus!" Ron shouted, a blast of yellow light shooting out the end of his wand.

"Blasphemare Caudexio!" The curse flying at Harry from Ron´s wand was met with an explosion from his own, deflecting the yellow light away towards the ceiling. "Mitterio Abigera!" Harry yelled, but Ron leapt to the side, and Harry´s curse struck the wall, sending brick dust flying.

Ron coughed and aimed his wand, taking a moment to focus. "Dizzendio!" he called hoarsely, coughing again and wiping dust from his face.

Harry tried to deflect this curse as well, but he was a fraction of a second too late. He felt the Dizzying Hex knock into him and he stumbled, trying to stay upright and keep his wand steady but he suddenly found he didn´t know which way was left or right. The entire room was spinning around him and he couldn´t even tell if he was still standing. He wanted to throw a curse in return, but he didn´t want to risk hitting one of his classmates accidentally, so he hesitated. In that moment, he heard Ron uttering his next curse.

"Expelliarmus!"

Quickly, Harry muttered a Shield charm, and he heard a "whoosh" around him as it shot up, encircling him. Ron´s attempt to disarm Harry died as it hit the Shield. This bought Harry a few moments recovery time, and by the time he felt the Shield shimmer away, he had regained his equilibrium.

"Corpus Salirio!" Harry shouted.

"Tornare!" Ron yelled, using the curse-reversal charm they´d learned earlier that year to try and send Harry´s curse back at him.

Harry leapt into the air and the curse passed right underneath him, hitting the wall behind him with a bang.

"Corpus Salirio!" Harry tried again, and this time Ron wasn´t quick enough. The curse made contact and Ron flew into the air with more force than Harry had intended. He spun madly in the air and landed on his back with a loud thud. Ron moaned and Harry heard some of the girls gasp. He glanced quickly at Hermione, who was just watching Ron intently, muttering quietly to herself for him to get up. Without thinking, Harry started forward to go to Ron, but slowly, Ron had brought himself to his hands and knees, and he lifted his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Ron said breathlessly. Harry dropped to the mat and rolled to his left, just out of the way of the curse.

That was the second time Ron had attempted to disarm him, and Harry wondered if he´d had enough. He thought about calling an end to the duel, but -

"That´s the way, you two!" Professor Matlock called encouragingly. "Keep at it!"

Harry gathered himself up and took a couple of deep breaths, moving back into position. Ron had gotten to his feet by now as well, and pointed his wand. "Confundus!"

Harry suddenly found himself feeling immensely confused. Why was he standing here? Was he in class? Why was everyone looking at him?

But from somewhere deep in the back of his brain, he was thinking the words `Crusos Non, Crusos Non, Crusos Non.´

He must have said them out loud at some point, because when his head cleared a moment later and he remembered he was dueling, he saw that Ron´s legs had given out on him, leaving him sprawled face forward on the floor. Ron scrambled quickly to his feet, but not in time to beat Harry into shouting the next curse.

"Mitterio Abigera!" Harry yelled for the second time.

It seemed Ron had run out of physical strength and didn´t try to dodge the curse this time. Instead, he roared, "Tornare!" trying to send the curse back at Harry.

The curse rebounded with blinding speed, shooting straight at Harry and the only thing his tired mind could think of to do was to send it back in the other direction as well. "Tornare!" The light that exploded from his wand back across the room was intensified under the double reversal, and at last, it seemed Ron´s energy had run out. The curse hit him square in the chest like a bolt of lightning. A sharp blue light emanated as he flew up and back, ten feet, twenty feet, and then...

Ron crashed into the stone wall with a sickening thud, then dropped to the floor.

People leapt to their feet in dismay, and Harry threw his wand down, running the length of the dueling floor until he was at Ron´s side.

"Ron?" Harry asked frantically. "Ron, are you okay?"

Ron just groaned incoherently, eyes rolled halfway back in his head.

"Ron, I´m so sorry. Please, say something!"

"Stand back, Harry, let me see." Professor Matlock had reached them, surrounded by students trying to see for themselves the damage Harry had inflicted on his best friend. Instinctively, Harry´s eyes rose to search out Hermione´s, and he found that she was just standing sort of numbly to the side, both hands pressed over her mouth.

"Oh dear," Harry heard Professor Matlock say, and when Harry looked back down, he was horrified to see blood in Ron´s hair, seeping out from the back of his head.

"Oh, God," Harry choked.

"Go get Madam Pomfrey, please," Matlock said to the nearest student, who happened to be Parvati Patil. Parvati nodded, eyes wide, and dashed from the classroom.

Ron groaned again, eyes moving as if trying to focus. "You´re going to be all right, Mr. Weasley," Professor Matlock said, trying to get a better look at his wound without moving him too much. "Just be still."

At last, Ron´s eyes seemed to settle, and they landed right on Harry. "Hi, Harry," he mumbled. "What´s going on?"

"Ron, I´m so sorry," Harry blurted out. "I didn´t know that would happen, or I never would have tried to reverse the curse again."

"What?" Ron asked fuzzily. "Where´s Hermione?" He tried to look around for her, but she had heard him and was stepping over students to reach his side.

"Hi, Ron," she said, fighting back tears and taking his hand. "You´re okay. Everything will be okay."

"I feel dizzy."

"Just be still, Mr. Weasley," Professor Matlock told him, trying to sound light-hearted. "Madam Pomfrey will be here in a minute, and she´ll fix you all up."

Madam Pomfrey arrived only a few moments later and quickly shooed everyone out of the way. She tried to get Ron to sit up, but he couldn´t manage it on his own, so Harry and Professor Matlock each slipped an arm under his shoulders and brought him upright. His head lolled to the side, and Madam Pomfrey quickly steadied it with her hands, examining his wound. Ron winced as her fingers made contact with the long gash across the back of his head, and she tutted. "Rather nasty flesh wound this is," she said, reaching for her wand.

"Will he be okay?" Hermione asked anxiously, still gripping Ron´s hand.

"Oh, certainly," Madam Pomfrey told her. "He´ll be as good as new in just a minute."

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Madam Pomfrey touched the tip of her wand to Ron´s head, saying something that made a warm orange light spread over his wound. Harry couldn´t see exactly what was happening, but after a few moments he noticed there was no more blood dripping down the side of Ron´s face. She muttered a few other incantations, passing her wand over him, and finished with a simple clean-up spell, wiping all traces of blood from Ron, his robes, and the floor.

"There we are," she said as she got to her feet with a heaving sigh. "No harm done. Take it easy for the rest of the day, Weasley, and be a little more careful next time, will you?" With that, she left the room as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place at all.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked Ron again.

"Yeah, I think so." Ron reached his fingers around to the back of his head and pressed on the spot that had just been bleeding. "Bloody fantastic duel, Harry," he told him, grinning. "Should we give it another go?" he asked, looking to Professor Matlock.

Hermione let out an indignant gasp, and their Professor replied with, "Not a chance, Weasley. You´re done for the day. In fact," she said, speaking more loudly to address everyone. "I think we´re all done for the day. Class dismissed."

"Brilliant!" Ron said, immediately trying to get to his feet. At least five pairs of hands reached out to stop him. "What?" he asked. "I´m fine! Honestly."

"Just let Harry help you, Ron, please," Hermione pleaded.

Ron looked at Harry and winked mischievously. "Yeah, okay," he said.

Harry helped heave Ron to his feet, and when he was standing, he swayed on the spot and let out a moan, reaching for his head. "Ohhhhh, it hurts," he moaned. Harry held back a snort.

Hermione´s hands immediately flew out to Ron, steadying him. "Do you need to sit down again?" she asked, face full of concern. "Can I do anything for you?"

"Just...just look away, Hermione," he said, putting on a brave sort of grimace. "I don´t want you to see me this way."

Harry saw Professor Matlock roll her eyes, though she was clearly fighting hard to hold back a snicker.

"Well, here, let me get you a...a chair or something," Hermione stuttered, looking madly around for something she could do to help Ron.

"No, Hermione," Ron said, grasping blindly for her hand again, "don´t leave me. I need you."

Hermione started to reach for his hands with both of hers, but then Harry felt a snort escape which he couldn´t hold back. Hermione looked at him, realization hitting her, and she glared angrily at him, then at Ron. She pursed her lips, hands going to her hips.

"That was low, Ronald Weasley."

Ron and Harry both snickered at her scandalized expression, which made her even angrier.

"If you hadn´t just been injured in the head," she told Ron, "I´d smack you upside it."

Now Professor Matlock couldn´t help but laugh too, and Hermione just huffed, going back to her desk to gather her things. She stormed out of the classroom in that way she had of acting angry when she really wasn´t, and Ron grinned.

"It´s so much fun messing with her," Ron said, touching his head again, more carefully this time.

"Seriously, I´m really sorry, Ron," Harry told him while they gathered up their own things. "Are you sure you´re all right?"

"Yeah," Ron said honestly. "Just a bit of a headache. I´ll be fine."

The classroom was empty now except for the two of them and Professor Matlock, who had returned to her desk to prepare for her next class, but right at that moment the door flew open again, crashing loudly against the wall. Angelina Johnson swept in, looking frantic.

"Weasley!" she called. "Is it true? I just heard that you were knocked out."

"Word travels fast," Ron said to Harry disbelievingly.

"Well, is it true?" she demanded, coming closer and looking him over with a scrupulous eye. "Are you all right? You look all right," she said, more to herself than to anyone else, still checking him over.

"Your concern is touching, Johnson," Ron said to her mockingly as she pulled him down by the front of his robes so she could examine the back of his head. "It warms my heart that you´re so stricken by the news of my injury."

"Oh can it, Weasley. Are you going to be able to play Quidditch next Saturday or not?" she asked, releasing him.

"Yes, I will be able to play Quidditch," he told her.

"Does she think I´m nutters?" Ron said to Harry after she´d finished examining him and left the room. "I´d rather have you throw me into a wall ten times than suffer one of whatever it is she´d do to me if I couldn´t play against Slytherin for the Cup."

********************

Hermione wasn´t speaking to Ron that evening. Then again, she wasn´t really speaking to anyone. She was buried under a mountain of books, taking up a whole table to herself, studying intensely and scribbling notes as she went along. She kept filling up page after page, flipping quickly from one to the next. It was making Harry dizzy.

"She´s gone mad," Harry said to Ron. They´d just settled in at their usual table, exhausted after a long and tiring Quidditch practice. Angelina had stressed the whole team out by fussing over Ron, first telling him to sit out the practice, then deciding the team couldn´t afford it, then changing her mind back and forth about ten times. In the end, he had participated, and came away saying he was feeling fine and that the team didn´t have anything to worry about as far as his health was concerned.

"She´s always been mad," Ron said simply, pulling out his History of Magic essay and unrolling it to see how many more inches he had to write. "Eight more inches," he moaned.

They worked on homework for a while, until Harry grew distracted by the fact that Ron kept looking up and watching Hermione with an oddly dejected expression.

"She´s not really angry at you, you know," Harry told him.

"I know," Ron said, though he didn´t really sound sure. "I just..."

"What?"

"Well, she studies all the time," Ron said, looking back to his essay. "We never get to spend time together."

Harry watched them both work for a few minutes, realizing how true this was. They were boyfriend and girlfriend, and here they were sitting at completely separate tables, doing their own thing, just like most nights lately. Harry felt badly for Ron. He´d waited to be with Hermione for so long, and now they were finally together - and had been for nearly three months - and he still wasn´t able to be with her, not really.

"Well, why don´t you go talk to her?" Harry suggested.

"I can´t interrupt her, are you crazy?" Ron replied. "She´d take my head off."

But Ron continued looking so miserable that Harry finally told him that if he didn´t go over and talk to her for a least a few minutes, he would hold his History of Magic essay for ransom. Ron sighed and stood up.

"Hey," Harry heard Ron say cautiously as he approached Hermione´s table.

"Hi," she replied, not looking up from her notes. "How was practice? How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he told her, standing over her and watching her scribble madly. "You´re not really angry at me, are you?" he asked quietly after a minute.

That got her attention, but only just barely. "What? About what?" she asked, glancing at his face.

"You know. Today. After the duel."

"Oh," she said, finally setting down her quill. "No, of course not. That would be silly."

"Okay," he said. "I just wanted to make sure."

She smiled a little bit and kissed her fingertips, then reached up and touched them to Ron´s cheek. "I´m not angry at you, I promise. Just busy."

He nodded, and she let her hand linger on his cheek for a few moments before she brought it down and picked up her quill again. "What are you working on?" she asked him.

"History of Magic. You?"

"I just finished that. Working on some research now."

"All right. Well, I´ll let you get back to it." Ron started to walk away, but she reached out and took his hand, pulling him back. She tugged him down and kissed him lightly on the lips, blushing a tiny bit as she did so, but not nearly as much as she would have three months ago. Ron, however, still turned pink any time they kissed in front of anyone. Harry suspected it was something he would always do. He pulled away, however, looking far less unhappy than he had only five minutes ago, and was able to leave Hermione in peace, rejoining Harry with a small smile lingering on his face.

"See?" Harry said.

They worked in silence for a while, not even realizing how late it was getting until Harry noticed at one point that the three of them were the only ones left in the common room. "What time is it?" he wondered aloud, and Ron turned to look at the clock, but never answered him. A loud squeal from Hermione´s table stole their attention instead.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, to no one in particular. "Oh my goodness!"

"What?" Ron demanded, leaping to his feet. "What is it?"

"Come over here," she said, "both of you. Hurry!" she waved them frantically over to her table. "Listen to this," she said once Harry and Ron were at her shoulders. She began reading from a huge book that Harry recognized as one she had purchased at Flourish and Blotts North during their grand opening.

"´One of the most ancient elements of the Hawaiian wizarding culture is the notion of the existence of three corners of the earth. This antiquated belief was at one time a central component of the entire belief system, but has long since fallen out of favor, passed down only in the form of legends and folklore. Many wizards today feel the corners only ever existed as symbolic representations of the three universal qualities that the Hawaiian wizarding society continues to believe constitute the existence of the universe. Each of the three corners represented one of the qualities of Chaos, Harmony, and Logic. According to ancient texts, however, these three corners were actual gateways to the planes of existence that keep the world in balance, namely the three qualities listed above.´" Hermione read all of this in a rush, stopping to look up at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. "Do you see what this means?" she asked them eagerly.

Harry wasn´t sure that he did, but Hermione saved him the trouble of figuring it out.

"This tells us for sure that there are three corners, just like I suspected. I was right! I knew it had to have something to do with the three universal qualities. I just knew it!"

She was practically bouncing in her seat, but didn´t even give Harry and Ron time to congratulate her on figuring it out. She began to read again.

"´The corner representing Harmony was said to be located somewhere directly along the earth´s Equator, as the center and balance of all things. It was said to travel the length of the Equator as the earth made its annual movement around the sun. The locations of the other two corners were never documented, but according to one ancient legend, the locations are marked with ancient runes.´" Hermione stopped reading. "That´s referring to the legend of the Carnelian Key," she told Harry and Ron. "Remember? When Iakopa hid the Keys and the Immortality Box, he marked the locations with runes."

Harry and Ron nodded. "Now listen to this," Hermione told them. "Remember how I told you that I suspected the locations of the corners were determined by some sort of astronomical alignment, but that the only way that´s possible is if the corners are either always moving, or are only accessible on certain days of the year at certain places?"

"Yes," Harry said. "You said that astronomical alignments are never fixed, which is why it would be so hard to find the corners."

"Exactly. But listen." Hermione began to read again. "´The only other piece of information known about the remaining two corners is that each was said to be accessible only on the longest day of the year. In the Northern Hemisphere, this would be the Summer Solstice. In the Southern, the Winter Solstice.´" Hermione looked up at Harry and Ron victoriously. "Do you see?" she asked them. "I was right."

The trio fell silent as they let this news sink in. "I can´t believe I was right," Hermione said blankly a minute later.

"Why not?" Ron asked her. "You´re always right. We should have known all along you would figure it out."

"This is exactly the type of information I´ve been looking for all this time," Hermione said. "Given that the days on which the corners are accessible are the Solstices - days which themselves are determined by astronomy - only gives more support for my theory that the corners themselves are located at places of significant alignments. If only I knew where. That´s all that´s left to figure out. That´s the last piece of the puzzle."

"Not entirely," Harry pointed out, thinking. "We know from the legend that the Immortality Box and Carnelian Key were hidden together at one corner, and that the Bloodstone Key was hidden alone at the other. But there´s nothing to say which items are at which corner." Harry felt a little bit thrown to finally be talking about the legend of the Carnelian Key this way - as though it might actually be true. But Hermione had certainly uncovered some pretty important evidence, and there was no denying that the pieces of her theory were finally starting to come together. When he considered what this could really mean - that this could lead to a way to defeat Voldemort - his stomach did an enormous somersault.

"That´s true," Hermione admitted. "But at least we know this much now. I need to keep reading," she told them, flipping pages. "The index in this book is useless. I had to read nearly four hundred pages to even get to this point. There´s no telling what else is in here."

Ron exchanged a look with Harry. "Hermione," Ron said carefully. "I think it´s great that you figured all of this out and everything, really I do. But it´s late. You´ve been going non-stop since first thing this morning. You´re going to exhaust yourself. You need to go to bed."

"I´m fine," she said, flipping another page. "I´ve almost got it figured out. I can´t stop now."

"Can´t it wait until tomorrow?" Ron asked persistently.

"No," she replied shortly, "it can´t. I have an Ancient Runes essay to work on tomorrow, ironically enough, and a whole schedule of Transfiguration and Potions notes to revise for the OWLs. You two go on to bed, I´ll let you know what I find."

After much failed prodding, Ron and Harry eventually left Hermione at her table and called it a night.

The next morning, they descended the stairs from the dorm wondering if she´d found anything else after they´d gone to bed. What Harry and Ron found, however, was Hermione, still at her table, fast asleep over her books.

"I don´t believe it," Ron said, marching over to her and giving her shoulder a light shake. "Hermione, wake up."

"Hmmmm?" she groaned, eyes blinking open.

"You´ve been here all night," he said to her. "It´s eight a.m.!"

"What?" she asked, sitting up in a flash and looking at her watch. "I only put my head down for a minute!"

"And what time was that at?" Ron demanded.

She avoided eye contact, pushing her hair off her face. "Oh, I don´t know," she said vacantly, gathering up her notes and flipping books shut. "Three? Four?"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "You have got to stop this. You´re out of control!"

"I most certainly am not out of control, Ronald Weasley," she said curtly. "But I am going to be late for Charms if I don´t go upstairs and get changed right now. I´ll see you there." She scooped everything up in her arms and disappeared up the stairs.

"Nutters," Ron said to Harry. "Absolutely nutters."

********************

The day of the final Quidditch match approached rapidly, and Harry was glad for it. Things were as bad as they had been in third year, when the castle had been gearing up for the same final pairing - Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Inter-house tensions were running high; people were hexing each other in the corridors, and Harry himself only barely ducked out of the way of a nose enlarging curse that Pansy Parkinson sent at Lavender Brown one morning outside Greenhouse Four. Lavender ended up in the hospital wing for two days while her nose shrunk, and after that, Professor McGonagall started escorting members of the Gryffindor team everywhere they went.

By the time the day of the match arrived, Harry was ready for it all to be over. He and Ron made their way downstairs at seven a.m. for a last minute team meeting, and Harry couldn´t help but notice Ron looking alarmingly pale as they descended the stairs. Harry himself felt like he had an army of birds in his stomach, flapping their wings against his insides.

"There you are!" Angelina called to Harry and Ron when they entered the common room. "Hurry up! You´re late." Harry and Ron both looked to the large grandfather clock near the fireplace. It read six fifty-nine. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.

"Now, listen," Angelina said intently once they were all gathered around her. "Slytherin is taking this match very, very personally. They´re still bitter that they lost the Cup to us two years ago, and they never got the rematch they wanted last year. They´ve been playing dirty all season; they slaughtered the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws this year, and those were just regular matches. This is for the Cup. They´ll do anything to get it," Angelina knowingly regarded each of her team members in turn. "Do not let down your guard. Be alert, and play hard. That´s the only way we´ll win this thing. The Slytherins want that Cup so badly they can taste it. They may even want it more than we do." She said this very pointedly as she looked around at everyone. They were all silent, waiting for her to continue. "Did you hear what I said?" she asked them. "The Slytherins want the cup more than we do!" She looked madly around at all of them. "Well, what´s the matter with you?" she yelled.

"Oh!" Fred exclaimed. "They don´t want the cup more than us, Angelina!"

"No! We want it more!" Nigel Underwood agreed.

Everyone yelled in agreement that no one had ever wanted the Quidditch Cup more than the Gryffindors did this year, and this seemed to appease Angelina.

"Don´t you dare go and scare me like that ever again, people!" Angelina said. "This is my last year, and it´s Fred´s, and George´s, and Alicia´s last year too. I don´t know about them, but I am not ready to end my Quidditch days with a loss to the bloody Slytherins! Are you with me?"

"Yeah!" everyone shouted.

"All right, that´s more like it! Now everyone be sure to eat a good breakfast, and then get to the locker room so we can go over some final strategies. I´ll see you there at nine." The team started to disperse, and then Angelina added, "Don´t be late!" with a sharp look at Harry and Ron.

"I think I´m going to be sick, Harry," Ron said as they sank into a sofa. They were planning to wait until Hermione was up so they could all go down to breakfast together.

"No you´re not," Harry told him. "You´ll be fine. Just try not to let Angelina stress you out. Just relax, and you´ll do great."

"Relax?" Ron asked him, looking at him as if he was insane. "Relax? Are you kidding me? Can you imagine what she´ll do to me if I let the Slytherins score the way they did against Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw? I´ll be lucky if this isn´t my last year too. She´ll kill me!"

"You´re a much better keeper than the Hufflepuffs or the Ravenclaws have," Harry assured him. "You´ve been playing great all season. Just play like you´ve been practicing, and you´ll be fine."

"Just promise me you´ll catch the Snitch, Harry, and quick."

Sure, because it was that easy. "I promise," Harry said.

"Oh good, you´re here!" Hermione was on the stairs, descending them quickly.

"We were just waiting for you so we could go to breakfast," Ron explained. "What´s that?" he asked, pointing at an enormous textbook she was carrying under her arm.

"I think that´s what they call a book," Harry provided. "You know, those things people read to learn stuff."

Ron glared at him.

"This is a book on Hawaiian Astronomy," Hermione said in lieu of greeting, ignoring Harry´s cheek and dropping the book onto the table in front of their sofa with a thud. She opened it to a pre-marked page. "Remember when I was looking for stars with names and meanings that somehow equate with the three qualities of Chaos, Harmony, and Logic?"

"Yes," Harry said, remembering. "That was a long time ago. You never found them?"

"No. But I did find this. Just last night." She smoothed out the pages in question, and on them was an elaborate diagram of the night sky, complete with star names, constellations, and a detailed grid that Harry assumed served as some kind of map.

"Look," she said, pointing. The diagram of the sky was divided into three main sections, each with hundreds of small constellations scattered throughout. It appeared that each constellation had one primary star, as these were all drawn in red, while all the other stars were in yellow. The red stars in each of the three sections were all connected with thin dotted lines to form an elaborate sort of web, each with one main star, drawn in green, appearing in the very center. And at the very top of the diagram, over each of the three sections in turn, were the words "Mokaki Web, Lokahi Web, Kuleana Web."

"This is it," Hermione said fiercely. "This has to be it. The webs are named for the three qualities, and they each have a central star. These have to be the stars whose alignments determine the locations of the corners. But...well, come over here," Hermione said, leading Harry and Ron to a corner of the common room where there was an enormous globe set into a gold gilded stand. Hermione flicked her wand three times, and three small drops of golden light hovered in the air.

"Whoa," Ron muttered, impressed.

She pointed her wand at each point of light, directing them into various positions around the globe. "These are the proper positions of the stars on the Summer Solstice," Hermione said. "So whatever points of alignment they form on the earth´s surface should show us the location of the corners on that day. And whichever one is in the Northern Hemisphere...well, that should be the corner that is accessible on the Summer Solstice.

Harry´s heart rate picked up as Hermione pointed her wand again. Was this really it? Was it all really true? Were they about to discover, at last, one of the locations that could provide the key to Voldemort´s downfall?

Hermione pointed her wand at each point of light in turn, sending a thin string of light down to touch the globe´s surface. When all three were in place, she pointed, looking far less excited than Harry would have expected. "Look."

All three points on the globe were in the middle of oceans. One was, in fact, in the Northern Hemisphere, but it seemed to be located somewhere off the coast of Greenland, far into the North Atlantic. The other two were in the Southern Hemisphere - one right in the middle of the vast Pacific, the other about a third of the way between the tip of Africa and the South Pole.

"I thought one corner was supposed to be located directly along the Equator," Ron said, perplexed.

"Exactly," Hermione said dully. "So this can´t be right."

"Well, what about the Winter Solstice?" Harry asked desperately. "What are the positions on that day?"

Hermione waved her wand and the tiny specks of light moved, dragging their lines of light with them until they were in new positions, with new points of alignment on the globe. This time, two were in the North - one in Siberia and one in the ocean again, near Japan. The third was in the South - in Paraguay.

"There´s still not one on the Equator," Ron observed.

"I know." Hermione dropped her wand to her side, looking crushed, and the lights she had conjured wavered, then faded away. She sank where she stood, ending up on the floor with her wand dangling in her hand. "I realized all of this last night. I was so sure this was going to be it," she said feebly. "But I can´t figure it out. I don´t know what else to do."

Hermione looked so utterly helpless that Harry and Ron dropped to the floor next to her, Ron putting a supportive arm around her shoulders.

"You´ve come this far, Hermione," he told her. "I´m sure you´ll get it."

"Yeah," Harry put in, trying to sound confident. "It´ll all come together eventually."

"Don´t you see?" she asked them. "I don´t know what else to try. I´ve...I´ve read everything, I´ve...I´ve done all I can think of..." her voice trailed off, and Harry wondered for a minute whether she was going to cry. But then he realized - she was exhausted. Her eyes were bloodshot and she had enormous bags under them, and she seemed too weak to even hold her wand, which had slipped from her hand onto the floor.

"Hermione," Harry said sternly, "what time did you go to bed?"

"I didn´t," she said flatly.

"What?" Ron demanded, looking horrified.

"I haven´t been to bed," she repeated weakly. "I was just up in my room, changing into fresh clothes."

"Right, that´s it," Ron said, getting to his feet and pulling Hermione up with him. He kept his arm around her, dragging her in the direction of the stairs.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Leave me be."

"No way," he told her. "I´m putting you to bed, right now. This has gone far enough."

"No, Ron," she protested. "I´m fine. I need to be at the match today, I have to watch you play, and -" but her voice died in her throat as her legs started to give out and she wobbled unsteadily. Harry moved instinctively to hold onto her, but Ron had already tightened his arm around her shoulders and was now guiding her up the first few steps toward her room. "The match doesn´t start until eleven. You have four hours."

"I´ll oversleep, I´ll miss it."

"I´ll charm the clock in your room to give you an alarm."

"Ron, please...besides, you´re not supposed to be in my room. Parvati and Lavender are still in bed..."

"I´ll close my eyes."

"We´re prefects, we could get into trouble..."

Ron didn´t respond any further, just kept dragging her up the steps. He came back down a few minutes later, shaking his head disbelievingly at Harry, who was standing at the globe, staring at it uselessly.

"I can´t believe her," Ron said. "She´s lost her mind. She was asleep in my arms before I even got her to the bed."

"She´s been doing all this for me," Harry said vacantly, "and I haven´t even helped her. Haven´t even thanked her."

"Oh, no you don´t," Ron said to him sharply. "Not you too. I can only handle one of you in crisis at a time, and today it´s her turn. I can deal with you tomorrow."

Harry let out a mirthless laugh, despite himself. "Okay, I get it. Come on, let´s get some breakfast before Angelina has a stroke."

********************

"WELCOME! WELCOME TO THE FINAL QUIDDITCH MATCH OF THE SEASON!"

Fourteen broomsticks shot onto the Quidditch pitch, looping each other dangerously in flashes of scarlet and green. Thunderous applause rang out from the stands and a hundred flags waved madly, some green and silver, but most scarlet and gold.

Harry flew straight up to the top of the goalposts, then dove impressively, flipping over as he approached the ground, and shooting back up toward the sky. He felt slightly dizzy when he leveled out, but his blood was surging through his veins on a rush of adrenaline. He needed to let out some initial pent-up energy before he could really focus, and he always loved these moments right before the start of a game, when he could just fly with nothing at stake. He flew in fast circles over the Gryffindor goals as he watched his teammates moving into position. Ron was looping the goalposts below him, eyes searching the stands.

"Where´s Hermione?" he yelled up to Harry.

Harry didn´t see her in the stands. She was usually very easy to pick out. She always sat with Hagrid, who was easily the largest person there. All he ever had to do was spot him and look down a bit, but today Hermione wasn´t there. He waved to Hagrid, who waved back and shook a large Gryffindor flag.

"I don´t think she´s here yet!" he called back.

Ron looked incredibly nervous and Harry couldn´t help but feel worried that he might not perform up to his ability if he didn´t get his mind in the game. Without Hermione there, Ron would be distracted the whole time. He hoped Ron´s alarm spell had worked and that Hermione wasn´t still sleeping.

"MADAM HOOCH STEPS ONTO THE FIELD TO RELEASE THE BALLS!"

On the field below, Madam Hooch kicked open a large trunk and released the two Bludgers, which shot high into the air. The Snitch followed, springing up to the middle of the pitch and hovering. At last, she blew her whistle and threw the Quaffle, and the players sprang into action. The Snitch darted out of sight at the first sign of movement, and the Quaffle landed squarely in the hands of one of the Slytherin Chasers. The game had begun.

Ron had no choice but to get his head about him, and he did so admirably, Harry thought. Ron kicked the Quaffle away from the goalposts twice in the first sixty seconds of the match, much to the obvious dismay of the Slytherins.

Angelina had been right. The Slytherins were in it to play dirty. Apparently, they had decided that the best way to score goals was to split up their Beaters - one was clearly assigned to Ron, the other to the Gryffindor Chasers. Alicia Spinnet narrowly avoided a Bludger to the head as she sped toward the Slytherin goalposts, and the Quaffle slipped from her hands but she managed to connect her foot with it. It soared through the highest hoop for the first goal of the game. The stands erupted with cheers. Only a moment later, however, one of the Slytherin Chasers came speeding her way, zooming down and underneath her as he went in for the rebound, sending her spinning on her broom in his wake. A loud "Ooooh" issued from the stands, and Harry heard Dean Thomas yell "Foul!" But the Slytherin hadn´t touched Alicia in any way, so there was nothing to be done. The Slytherins had obviously rehearsed their game plan well.

"AND IT´S MONTAGUE WITH THE QUAFFLE NOW, FOR SLYTHERIN!"

A large tangle of players reversed direction and began barreling toward the Gryffindor goalposts. Montague dodged a Bludger from George and ducked underneath Angelina, who was attempting to intercept him, and heaved the Quaffle toward one of the hoops. Ron lunged forward on his broom to catch it. Just before his fingertips connected, however, Bruce Derrick slammed his bat into a Bludger which flew right at Ron, who had his back to it.

"Ron, look out!" Harry called.

Ron whirled around, and Harry winced, stomach dropping. The Bludger nearly smacked Ron right in the face, but he ducked at the last second, throwing out his arm and knocking the Quaffle away from the hoop.

Derrick snarled at him, and when his Bludger returned, he nailed it again. It narrowly missed the end of Ron´s Firebolt.

Harry resolved right then to find the Snitch and get it in his hand as fast as possible. He began sweeping his eyes across the pitch, searching out any hint of gold, but all he saw was green and red and open air...and Draco Malfoy, positioned just above the center of the pitch, wearing a look of fierce determination and watching the match intently.

Draco turned and caught Harry watching him; he sneered and yelled, "Scared yet, Potter?"

Right at that moment, George Weasley flew past, lobbing a Bludger towards the Slytherin Chasers. Conveniently, it whipped past Malfoy on its way, nearly grazing the side of his greasy head, and Malfoy was knocked sideways on his broom, a look of utter terror on his face.

"Planning to stay on your broom there, Malfoy?" Harry retorted, zooming back around the outside of the Gryffindor goalposts to take up a new vantage point.

Gryffindor was in possession of the Quaffle again, and play moved toward the other end of the pitch.

"Harry!" Ron yelled suddenly, wearing a large grin. "She´s here!" Harry looked where Ron was pointing and saw Hermione running across the grass to the stands, looking up every few seconds to make sure she didn´t miss any more of the match. Harry gave Ron a thumbs up, grinning back, then returned to his determined search for the Snitch.

Harry searched...and searched...and searched. It felt like hours passed while Harry flew circles over the pitch, desperately searching the sky for any flicker of gold. The score was climbing steadily. Ron was doing a superb job of guarding the goals, but Derrick and his ruddy Bludger were making it difficult work. Ron kept narrowly avoiding serious injury in his attempts to keep the Quaffle out of the hoops, and numerous times it slipped past him, out of reach.

"NINETY-SEVENTY, SLYTHERIN!" Lee Jordan announced.

Ron looked murderous as Derrick´s Bludger charged at him for the umpteenth time, preventing him from soaring forward to stop another goal.

"A HUNDRED POINTS FOR SLYTHERIN, SEVENTY FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

Fred growled from somewhere to Harry´s right, and Harry heard the telltale THWACK! of bat hitting Bludger. Harry ducked instinctively, seeing Fred´s Bludger rush at Derrick, who smacked it back towards Fred, sneering grotesquely. It seemed a Bludger war was on. The two Beaters hit the Bludger back and forth repeatedly, each obviously wishing severe bodily harm on the other, until Madam Hooch blew her whistle and ordered them to disperse.

Plunk!

Harry´s hand flew to his ear. What was that? He felt it again. Plunk! Something cold struck his hand. It had started drizzling in huge, freezing drops.

Fabulous, Harry thought. This will make things so much more pleasant.

Harry willed the rain to hold off just a little longer, until he could catch the Snitch. His eyes kept swooping back and forth, but he had yet to catch sight of the winged ball. He couldn´t remember it ever taking this long to make an appearance before. Across the pitch, it was clear that Malfoy was thinking the same thing. His eyes roamed the pitch wildly, a look of sheer annoyance on his face.

The sky did hold back from letting loose for quite a while. Cold drizzle continued to fall, but it was nothing major enough to really hamper anyone´s playing. Still, the Snitch refused to show itself.

"AND WE´RE THREE HOURS IN, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, AND STILL NOT A SINGLE SIGN OF THE GOLDEN SNITCH! WE COULD BE IN FOR A LONG ONE TODAY! IT´S SLYTHERIN STILL IN THE LEAD, A HUNDRED AND SIXTY TO ONE TEN!"

Ron scowled at the reminder that the Quaffle had slipped by him sixteen times already.

"You´re doing great, Ron!" Harry yelled. "Keep at it!" But he could tell Ron was getting tired. They all were. Harry had never played in a match that had gone on this long before, and he was starting to get worn out just flying around in circles. He couldn´t imagine what it was like for his teammates, who had been playing full-out for three hours. The Slytherins, on the other hand, were like some kind of machine. They were moving just as quickly and precisely as they had been at the start of the match.

Four hours in, Angelina finally called a time out. The Gryffindors flew to the ground, landing in an exhausted jumble at the foot of the stands.

"JOHNSON CALLS A TIME OUT!" Lee Jordan announced. "THE TEAMS ARE LOOKING TIRED. IT MIGHT BE TIME TO START PUTTING IN SOME RESERVE PLAYERS."

"We don´t have any trained reserve players," Angelina told her team, as if they weren´t already aware. "We can do this on our own, we just need to re-energize. Let´s keep in mind what´s at stake here. This is for the Cup, people! This could help win us the House Championship! We need to do this for Gryffindor. We need to do this for Fred and George and Alicia and me. We´re not going to want to tell our grandchildren in fifty years that we lost our final season championship because we were tired! We need to persevere!"

"If the Snitch would ever decide to show itself," Ron said angrily, "then Harry could catch it and end all this rubbish."

"Harry, you´re going to have to be careful," Angelina told him. "The score could keep rising and we could start looking at a major gap in points if Derrick doesn´t stop hounding Ron. We came into this match only forty points behind Slytherin, but if they get up by more than a hundred and ten, we´ll lose the Cup, even if you catch the Snitch."

"They won´t get up by that much," Ron insisted. "They´re up by sixty right now, but I´ll do better, I promise!"

"It´s not your fault, Weasley," Angelina told him. "You´re doing the best you can, but we need to be prepared. Harry, don´t catch it if they´re up by more than a hundred and ten."

"What happens if we´re tied for total points after the Snitch is caught?" Harry asked. If Slytherin managed to be up by exactly a hundred and ten points when Harry caught the Snitch, Gryffindor would win the match but they´d be tied for the Cup.

"Then we have to play again, in a tie-breaking match. That is not an option," she told her team. "There is no tying. We´re winning this thing, and we´re winning it today."

Madam Hooch´s whistle sounded. "Back in the air everybody!" she shouted.

Play resumed just as the sky opened at last, and rain poured down, drenching everyone within seconds. Shrieks could be heard from the stands as the spectators found themselves dripping wet. Harry caught sight of Hagrid and Hermione through the torrential downpour, and saw that Hagrid had opened up his enormous cloak and was holding it over their heads. Hermione raised her wand and moments later, Hagrid brought his hands down, but the cloak remained over them, floating in place. Remembering another charm that Hermione had once performed during a rainy match, Harry gripped his broomstick tightly between his knees and removed his glasses with one hand, fumbling for his wand with the other. "Impervius," he muttered, and he slipped his glasses back on, water-free.

If possible, the match turned even dirtier once the rain got everyone´s annoyance level rising. Madam Hooch called a foul on Gryffindor when Nigel Underwood plowed into one of Slytherin´s Chasers in an attempt to stop him scoring, and the Chaser hurled the Quaffle towards Ron with unnecessary force. Ron blocked it by taking it right in the stomach, and he was knocked back by its force, crashing into the goalpost. The Slytherin team erupted in laughter, and when Harry caught sight of Draco´s smirking face, Harry decided he´d had enough. He dove straight at Malfoy, who didn´t see Harry coming until it was almost too late, and he had to drop off the side of his broomstick, holding on with just one hand and an ankle, in order to avoid Harry crashing into him. Harry knew it was a stupid and reckless thing to do, but he just wanted to wipe that smug grin off Malfoy´s face.

"Potter, what was the meaning of that?" Madam Hooch called angrily.

"Sorry!" he replied, shrugging. "Thought I saw the Snitch!"

"SLYTHERIN IS IN THE LEAD, THREE HUNDRED TO TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY!" Jordan announced about five hours in. Harry groaned. Where was that blasted Snitch? Slytherin was up by eighty now. If Gryffindor didn´t start scoring more goals soon, it might not matter who caught the Snitch.

And then, like an answer to his prayers, Harry thought he saw something flicker down near the base of the Slytherin goalposts. He shook his head a little, and looked again. It was difficult to see in the rain, and he was all the way at the opposite end of the pitch, but he didn´t care. If it wasn´t the Snitch, he´d find out when he got there. He dove.

Rain whipped his face as he plummeted downwards. He didn´t know where Malfoy was or if he was diving too, but he wasn´t about to waste precious seconds by turning around to look. The stands were erupting with ear-splitting cheers, urging him on, and he flattened himself further on his broom, racing towards the ground. As the grass rushed up at him, his destination came into focus and he knew for sure - the Snitch was there, hovering innocently near the grass, wings fluttering gently in the downpour.

"Come on!" He urged his Firebolt. "Go, go, go!" He flew lower...lower...he reached out a hand, inching forward on his broomstick...he almost had it...

Harry felt a terrible jolt and his broomstick went spinning, end over end. THUD. A Bludger had grazed the end of his broomstick, sending him off course, and now it had hit the ground, bouncing back up. Harry jerked his broomstick up just in time to avoid both crashing to the ground and being pummeled by the Bludger, and when he finally righted himself again, he spun back around toward the goalpost, but the Snitch had gone.

"Damn it!" he shouted out loud.

Malfoy whizzed by him, pulling back on his own broomstick to keep himself from hitting the ground. He had been yards behind Harry, and never would have beaten him to the Snitch.

"Nice try, Potter," Malfoy spat, soaring back upwards and leaving Harry in his rainy wake.

"Keep at it, Harry!" Angelina shouted from above him, having just thrown the Quaffle through one of the Slytherin hoops.

"AND A GOAL FOR GRYFFINDOR! THEY´VE DROPPED SLYTHERIN´S LEAD TO SEVENTY POINTS."

Harry sighed, flying back to the top of the pitch and resuming his search for the Snitch.

And then, not two minutes later, "SLYTHERIN SCORES AGAIN!"

Harry looked over to see Ron retrieving the Quaffle from the wrong side of a hoop. He flung it angrily back into the game, pushing soaked hair out of his eyes and glaring at Derrick. Bole, Slytherin´s other Beater, flew over to Derrick and gave him a high five, grinning maliciously. Ron shot them an obscene gesture.

Madam Hooch´s whistle cut shrilly through the air. "Watch it, Weasley!" she bellowed. "Do that again, and it´ll be a penalty!"

"Keep it together, Gryffindors!" Angelina warned.

Harry strained his eyes more than ever, searching for the Snitch with a desperation he´d never had before. This had to end. The team was reaching the end of its rope and if he didn´t win this for them soon, they were going to start making stupid mistakes and end up handing the game to the Slytherins on a green and silver platter.

The Gryffindors took possession of the Quaffle and Harry willed his teammates to score some points. They needed to narrow Slytherin´s lead. Nigel had the Quaffle tucked under his arm and was soaring toward the goal when Montague darted in front of him, forcing him to roll his broom to avoid crashing. The Quaffle slipped from Nigel´s grasp and Angelina dove under him, making a grab for it, but Montague reached it first.

Harry whipped around on instinct, desperate to watch the action at the Gryffindor goals but not wanting to take his eyes away from his search for the Snitch. He listened intently to the commentary, knowing Slytherin only needed three more goals to turn the game into a much more complicated mess than it already was.

"AND IT´S MONTAGUE WITH THE QUAFFLE...HE SHOOTS IT...WEASLEY BLOCKS IT! EXCELLENT SAVE BY RON WEASLEY OF GRYFFINDOR. WARRINGTON OF SLYTHERIN GETS THE REBOUND, AND IT´S FRED WEASLEY WITH A BLUDGER! WARRINGTON DODGES IT AND GOES LEFT! OH, IT´S A FAKE! HE SHOOTS RIGHT! OHHH, WEASLEY MISSES IT. TEN MORE POINTS TO SLYTHERIN. SLYTHERIN IN THE LEAD BY NINETY."

Harry groaned again, shivering against the frigid rain that was still splattering his face. "Come on!" he said out loud, as if the Snitch could hear him. "Where are you?"

Still the game dragged on. Harry didn´t know how much more he could take. He was shivering uncontrollably now, and his entire body felt numb from cold, not to mention five and a half hours on a broomstick. He couldn´t believe people were still in the stands. If it wasn´t for the fact he was playing, he would have chosen to retreat back to the castle hours ago.

The minutes continued to tick by, and the Quaffle changed hands so many times Harry was starting to lose track of it. He finally got back on track when Jordan announced that Angelina was shooting, but the Slytherin Keeper blocked it. Possession passed back to Slytherin. A blurred mass of players whizzed toward the Gryffindor goalposts. The crowd was shouting louder than ever. Two more goals for the Slytherins, and the game would be out of Harry´s hands. He felt dizzy.

He watched the action intermittently, eyes always searching through the unrelenting downpour for the Snitch, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Montague hurl the Quaffle. Derrick whacked a Bludger, and it went soaring toward Ron...he had to see it coming, it was heading straight for him. But Ron was done letting Derrick stand in Gryffindor´s way. Completely ignoring the Bludger that was zooming toward him, Ron remained steadfast, thrusting out an arm to block the goal...but just as his fingers made contact, the Bludger knocked into his leg, jolting him, and the Quaffle sailed through the hoop.

"ANOTHER GOAL FOR SLYTHERIN!"

Harry felt his hope finally slip away. One more goal...just one more, and the Cup was as good as gone unless Angelina managed to lead the Chasers into some kind of miracle. He looked to his right and caught sight of Fred Weasley, whose bat hung limply in his hand, rain pouring off it like an old gutter. His shoulders were hunched over, and he lifted an arm to his face, wiping away rain and exhaustion. Harry looked helplessly to Ron, and they locked eyes. Ron looked utterly defeated, and Harry couldn´t stand it. He looked away.

And good thing he did.

The Snitch was hovering in the very middle of the pitch, about 20 feet off the ground.

And Malfoy had already seen it.

Harry pressed the handle of his broomstick vertical and went into a free fall. Malfoy was diving steeply, but was coming at the Snitch from further away. Harry was practically right above it. He plummeted recklessly, and he heard screams from the stands. He didn´t care. He had to get the Snitch before -

"SLYTHERIN IN POSSESSION! WARRINGTON IS HEADING FOR THE GOALS!"

No! Harry thought madly. No, no, no! If Harry could catch the Snitch before Slytherin scored, the Cup would be theirs. But if Slytherin scored first, Harry would have to hold off or else the game would end in a tie. If he backed off, how would he keep Malfoy from catching the Snitch and winning the Cup for the Slytherins?

"COME ON!" Harry yelled at his broomstick. But he couldn´t keep diving like this. He would crash into the ground if he dropped any further; he wouldn´t be able to pull up in time, Snitch or no Snitch.

"ALICIA SPINNET ATTEMPTS AN INTERCEPTION...WARRINGTON SLIPS BY HER!"

Harry yanked up on the handle of his broomstick, going into a more controlled dive, but he had to loop around to get to the Snitch, which was still directly below him. It wasn´t moving at all; it was as if it was exhausted too, though Harry didn´t know why. It hadn´t done anything all game. Malfoy was speeding toward him, already removing one hand from his broomstick to reach out toward the Snitch. Harry was barely ahead.

"WARRINGTON SHOOTS!"

Harry reached out a hand, stretching until he felt like his shoulder was going to come out of the socket. He couldn´t help it - he had to look up. Reaching forward, his eyes shot up to the Gryffindor goalposts. The Quaffle was soaring toward the center hoop...Ron threw out a hand, but Harry could see that he wouldn´t reach the Quaffle in time. And then, Ron suddenly flipped over, bringing the end of his broomstick around to smack the Quaffle away from the hoops.

And Harry´s hand closed over the Snitch.

"WEASLEY BLOCKS THE SHOT AND POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE MATCH, THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TO THREE HUNDRED AND THIRTY! GRYFFINDOR WINS THE QUIDDITCH CUP!"

Noise erupted around him like nothing he´d ever heard before. Harry saw Malfoy pull out of his dive, landing hard on the grass and angrily hurling his Nimbus 2001 across the ground. The stands had positively erupted. Gryffindor flags were being thrown onto the pitch and someone had shot red and gold fireworks into the air.

As fast as he´d dove, Harry sped upwards, still clutching the Golden Snitch, but a grinning, soaking wet Ron was already halfway to him. They met in a crushing hug, and soon found themselves in the midst of a seven person mass of arms and broomsticks.

"You did it, Harry!" Ron yelled over the roar of the crowd. "You did it!"

"We would´ve lost if you hadn´t blocked that shot!" Harry shouted back.

Angelina pushed her way through the jumbled group, tears pouring down her cheeks. She grabbed Harry first, taking his face in her hands and kissing him full on the mouth, then did the same to Ron. She was yelling something at them, but they could no longer hear anything over the noise of the crowd, and soon she´d been pushed aside by Fred and George, who nearly knocked Harry and Ron off their brooms with the force of their hugs.

The group somehow managed to find their way to the ground, only to be met with a throng of people rushing over the grass to congratulate them. Ron´s eyes searched the crowd, but Hermione was already running toward them. She threw herself into Ron´s arms.

"Congratulations!" she exclaimed. "I knew you could do it!"

He gripped her so tightly that her feet barely grazed the ground, and she reached for Harry with one arm, pulling him into their embrace and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Kissed by two girls in the space of thirty seconds?" said a cheerful voice. "You´ll want ter take this up as a profession, eh, Harry?"

Harry broke away from Ron and Hermione and saw Hagrid looming over them, grinning broadly. "Congratulations," Hagrid said, looking suspiciously more wet around the eyes than the rain should have made him.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said, stepping forward and putting his arms around Hagrid, or as far around him as they would go.

"Harry!" called an eager voice. "Hey, Harry! Can I have a picture of you and Ron, Harry?" It was Colin Creevey, holding up his enormous camera. "The two heroes of the match?"

Ron heard this and came over to them immediately, beaming. "Sure, Colin!" Ron said. Harry and Ron stood side by side, arms around each others´ shoulders, and grinned for Colin´s camera.

Click!

"Thanks, Harry!"

As if separated by an invisible hand, the crowd began to part, making way for someone coming through. The noise of the crowd died down somewhat and Dumbledore emerged, carrying the enormous Quidditch Cup. Angelina stumbled to him, still wiping away tears and rain.

"It is my honor," Dumbledore announced, "to present this year´s Quidditch Cup...to Gryffindor!"

Cheers erupted all over again, until Harry thought his ears were likely to never stop ringing. Angelina took the Cup from the Headmaster and shook his hand, then thrust the trophy at Harry and Ron, who each seized a handle and lifted it into the air. Harry didn´t think the cheers would ever die down, but eventually they did, just as the rain, at long last, finally let up.

Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, everyone eager to head back to the castle for some dry clothes. The team, however, still lingered on the field, accepting congratulations from the remaining stragglers, and slapping each other on the shoulders. Harry could still feel himself shivering uncontrollably, but he wasn´t quite ready to go inside yet. He wanted to cement this moment in his mind forever, standing there in victory with his best friend, who had come through in the end to help Harry seal the win.

"You´re freezing," Hermione said to Ron, whose lips were starting to turn blue. His teeth were chattering. She pulled out her wand and touched it to his shoulder, casting a drying spell on him. "Come here," she said to Harry, pulling him over and doing the same to him.

"Excellent timing, hey, Harry?" Ron said wryly, pointing up. Harry looked to the sky, where the clouds were parting and the sun was starting to peek out.

"Heh. Yeah," Harry said.

"Ooooh, look!" Hermione said wondrously, pointing up at the sky behind them. Harry turned to see the largest, clearest rainbow he had ever seen, arching right over the Gryffindor goalposts.

"Fly with me," Ron said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione asked. Ron had grabbed her hand, eyes gleaming, and looked at that moment as though he could fly loops around the pitch without even using a broomstick.

"Come on," he said, throwing a leg back over his Firebolt. "Fly with me. A victory lap."

Hermione eyed the broomstick dubiously. "I don´t know, Ron, I´ve never really flown before..."

"I can´t believe you actually want to get back on that thing," Harry said with a laugh. "Five and a half hours not enough for you?"

But Ron was looking at Hermione pleadingly, hand outstretched to her. "Come on. Please?"

She shot a look of fear at Harry, but he just grinned at her. "Oh, go on, you´ll be perfectly safe. Ron´s an excellent flier."

"Bring us some food from dinner, will you, Harry?" Ron asked, pulling Hermione onto his Firebolt behind him. She wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, looking terrified.

"Sure," Harry told them. "Have fun."

Ron kicked off from the ground, soaring upwards, and Harry heard Hermione shriek. Ron circled higher and higher, flying steadily upwards until, from the ground, they just looked like a small, awkward bird.

"Come on, Harry," Fred told him, gripping him by the shoulder. "Let´s go get cleaned up so we can join the party."

"What party?" Harry asked.

"Isn´t there always a party?" Fred replied, grinning.

How right Fred was. By the time the team reached the Gryffindor common room, it was already in a state of total disarray. When Harry stepped through the portrait hole, he found himself being jostled amongst his housemates; everyone wanted to shake his hand or touch his Firebolt. Piles of sweets seemed to appear out of nowhere, as people threw around bags of Bertie Bott´s Every Flavor Beans and sent Chocolate Frogs jumping all over the place.

An hour later, the party moved down to the Great Hall when everyone went downstairs for dinner. Ron and Hermione were still nowhere to be found, so as promised, Harry gathered up what food he could, filling his pockets with rolls and loading a plate with sandwiches.

It was hours before the castle began returning to a state of normalcy. Sunset fell, and still there was no sign of Ron and Hermione. Harry wondered where they were. Surely they couldn´t still be flying? He hoped they were enjoying some time to themselves, maybe back behind the Quidditch locker rooms? He thought this with a smirk, but then quickly scowled as images began popping into this head that he really had no interest in seeing.

He was still enjoying the fruits of the team´s success, which were lingering about in the form of an elated mood, both for Harry and the House as a whole. He couldn´t remember the last time he´d felt so blissfully happy and carefree. Admittedly, a bit of the thrill was missing, without Ron there to share it with. He looked at his watch. It was after eight o´clock. The match had been over for hours. He hoped Ron was feeling as happy as he was at that moment, wherever he and Hermione were.

It must be nice, Harry thought vaguely. To be able to share a moment like this with...someone. For the first time in nearly a year, Harry wondered what it would be like to have girlfriend. He´d used to daydream about Cho Chang, but ever since Cedric´s death, he´d felt an enormous pang of guilt whenever her pretty face had popped into his mind, and he´d long since stopped thinking about her. Not that he needed a girlfriend anyway, he told himself bitterly. That would just be one more person that he could hurt...one more person that he could be placing in danger just by the mere fact that he´d be associating with her. But still...still it might be nice, to have someone to touch and to hold, the way Ron and Hermione had each other. Or just to...have look at him. The way Hermione looked at Ron. But who? He wasn´t interested in anyone. There was no one that made his stomach dance the way it had last year whenever he´d seen Cho in the hallways or in the Great Hall. No one to make his heart speed up or give him that look on his face - the one Ron had worn every time he´d looked at Hermione before they were together, when he didn´t think anyone was looking.

But who? Harry looked around the room at the prospects that Gryffindor House afforded him. The only two girls in their year besides Hermione were Parvati and Lavender. Parvati was very pretty, admittedly, but Harry felt pretty sure that he´d rather date someone with a little more depth. Besides, the only time she ever really talked to him was during Divination class, when she would warn him about the signs of death in his crystal ball or his candle drippings. And Lavender...well, let´s face it - he´d rather stick his wand through his eye than date Lavender and have to listen to her ramblings about her unmanageable hair (which happened to fall in gorgeous blonde layers down her back) or the latest trends in lip color.

But who else was there, really? Some of the girls in fourth year were nice, Harry thought, but none of them really ever paid him much attention. Not like when they had been first years, getting all tongue-tied whenever he was around. He supposed the thrill of living in the same tower as The Boy Who Lived had worn off after a while, once they´d realized he was really just a regular wizard with an ugly scar who happened to be good at Quidditch. Ginny Weasley had been interested in him once, though, Harry reminded himself. He looked at her now, sitting across the room with a group of her friends. Colin Creevey was showing her some pictures from the match, which he´d just developed with a film processing charm. She pointed at one and laughed, and Harry realized that she really was pretty, in her own way. But she´d always treated him differently after her first year, when he´d rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets. It was almost as if she wanted to forget the whole matter, but couldn´t do that if she was socializing with the very person who had been through it with her. She was always very cordial to him now, but never really seemed interested in talking to him. Still, perhaps...but then he thought of Ron, and looked over at Fred and George with their enormous arms, which were quite handy with large bats, he reminded himself, and thought, Perhaps not.

At least another hour passed, during which Harry grew increasingly bored with all the Quidditch chatter, and finally, he excused himself to his room. Where could they be? he wondered, starting to get a little worried. They´d been gone for nearly five hours now. He walked to his window and looked out over the grounds, but didn´t see anyone except Fang, running around himself in circles outside of Hagrid´s cabin, which had a light on in the front window. Harry walked over to his trunk and opened it, pulling out the Marauder´s Map.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The familiar image of the castle floor plan spread across the parchment, and Harry began searching it for two dots labeled "Ronald Weasley" and "Hermione Granger". This wasn´t like spying, was it? he wondered, feeling a little guilty. No, he told himself. He was doing it because he was worried, not nosy. His eyes scanned over the map, and at long last, he saw them appear off the edge of the parchment, at the corner which contained the side of the lake. They must have been flying the perimeter of the lake, or walking it, Harry realized, given their slow speed. He got to his feet, going over to the window by Seamus´ bed and looking out toward the lake. After a moment, Ron and Hermione came into view, walking hand in hand and gazing up at the stars. Harry smiled softly watching them, but when they stopped so that Ron could pull Hermione to him, Harry moved away from the window, leaving them to their privacy. He walked back over toward his trunk to put the map away when something very peculiar caught his eye.

A black dot labeled "Draco Malfoy", in the middle of the Great Hall.

Harry´s eyes narrowed. What was Malfoy doing? The Great Hall was completely deserted and had been for hours, Harry knew. Malfoy´s dot was alone, moving very rapidly toward the front of the room. Why weren´t Crabbe and Goyle with him? Harry wondered. Malfoy would have to be up to something very secretive to leave the comfort of his Slytherin common room without his body guards.

Harry watched Malfoy, suspicious, and saw him move around to the back of the head table. The dot stopped moving suddenly and stood still for a long moment, then moved slightly and did the same thing again. Was he listening to see if anyone was coming? No one was, Harry noted, seeing that no one was anywhere near the vicinity of the Great Hall. But then it seemed Malfoy changed his mind about whatever it was he had come to do, for he was moving again, back through the Great Hall toward the huge doors that led back to the Entrance Hall. The dot stopped just inside the door, as if Malfoy was checking to be sure the coast was clear, and then moved very quickly into the Entrance Hall, heading for the stairs down to the dungeons.

That´s odd, Harry thought. Very, very odd.

Exhausted, Harry changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed, thinking about Draco Malfoy and all the possible dirty schemes he could be up to. It wasn´t even nine-thirty yet, and Harry intended to stay awake until Ron returned, to tell him what he´d seen on the Marauder´s Map and ask if he had any ideas about what Malfoy could be up to.

But at long last, the day caught up to him and Harry was soon asleep, dreaming of the Golden Snitch.