Harry Potter and the Carnelian Key

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

Recap of the legend of the Carnelian Key:

Many years ago, the dark Hawaiian wizard Pukana went on a killing spree, selecting his victims at random and stealing the life essences of all those that he killed. He stored the life essences in a magical box, saving them up until he thought he had enough to make himself immortal. He invented a key, made of bloodstone, that, when inserted into the box´s lock, would activate a powerful spell to make the life essences ingestible. Once the box was opened with the Bloodstone Key, he would be able to take all the life essences into his own soul, essentially becoming immortal. However, just before he was to ingest them, his brother Iakopa learned of his plan and vowed to stop him. He found Pukana just as he was inserting the Bloodstone Key into the lock; they dueled, and Pukana was killed.

Iakopa attempted to destroy the box and key, but they were indestructible. Instead, he created a second key - the Carnelian Key. When inserted into the box´s lock, the Carnelian Key would cause a reversal of effect. Instead of becoming ingestible, the life essences would become a vortex, and when the box was opened, the vortex would act as a vacuum. If used against any being who had taken any steps toward immortality, the vortex would strip away all traces of it, completely and permanently. The person would be left irreversibly mortal. Any steps taken thereafter to achieve extra years would be utterly futile and ineffective, leaving the person as vulnerable to an ordinary death as any normal being.

Iakopa traveled to the two distant corners of the earth, hiding the box and Carnelian Key together at one corner, and the Bloodstone Key alone at the other. He marked the locations of the corners with ancient runes, and never spoke of them again. All knowledge of the box and keys passed out of existence, until the story became nothing more than a myth, lost amongst the back pages of musty books on the legends of the Hawaiian wizarding culture.

Until now.

Chapter 16

Where are you going,

Where do you go?

Are you looking for answers

To questions under the stars?

I am no Superman

I have no answers for you

I am no hero, oh that´s for sure

But I do know one thing for sure

Where you are is where I belong

I do know, where you go is where I want to be.

~Dave Matthews Band

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

"Do it now...be ready to run..."

Harry was standing in the graveyard again, enclosed in the web of golden light. He was face to face with Voldemort and they were locked in combat, wand to wand, with Voldemort´s victims pacing circles between them.

"When the connection is broken," said his father´s shadow, "we will give you time. You must get to the Portkey, it will return you to Hogwarts."

A slight sense of disorder swirled through Harry´s head. It was as if some kind of hazy reality was trying to sort itself out from his own imagination. He thought he had two Portkeys concealed in his robes - Portkeys that he himself had created from a couple of ordinary rocks - but for some reason he knew that neither of these was the Portkey his father was referring to. His wand vibrated more violently than ever as he clutched it desperately with both of his hands and then somehow he knew that he had to break the connection and get to the Triwizard Cup...

"Do it now!" his father said to him.

Prepared to run, Harry wrenched his wand upwards, but was alarmed to find that he couldn´t do it. He wasn´t strong enough; he couldn´t make his arms move. Voldemort was overpowering him and then, all at once, the golden strands of light surrounding them changed into a vivid, blinding green as the Dark Lord shouted the words Harry had both long-dreaded and long-awaited, for he had always known that they would someday come...

Harry awoke with a start, flying upright and gasping desperately for air, which was coming too scarcely into his lungs. The sudden dark silence roared in his ears and he felt a throbbing pain in his chest. Slowly, he came to realize it was the pounding of his own heart. Falling back against his pillows, he gripped at his sweat-soaked hair, fighting to regain control of his breathing. The lingering images of his dream wavered in response.

He had been face to face with Voldemort...he had been about to die...he had been remarkably unafraid...resigned...ready.

Over the sound of his own ragged breathing, Harry heard a light rustling and turned to see the curtain of Ron´s four-poster being pulled aside from within. Ron´s face poked out, eyes somber as they settled sleepily on Harry.

Damn, Harry thought. Their eyes locked, and it was a moment before Harry could find his voice. "Sorry," he managed.

Ron didn´t answer. He just waited, watching Harry with a steady and knowing expression. Harry knew what he wanted - a better indication that he was all right. Having no desire for verbal inquiries, Harry gave it to him, pulling up his blankets and deliberately rolling away to face the window.

Eyes wide open and heart still pounding, Harry forced himself to breathe slowly and deeply, hoping that Ron would think he was falling back asleep. As he laid there, images and emotions continued to seep through his brain like poison, and he forced himself to check each one, pushing them firmly away to a distant and shadowed corner of his mind. A minute later, Harry heard the sound of Ron´s curtain being pulled and, expecting to see the scarlet drapes drawn shut again, Harry turned back over. But Ron hadn´t closed his curtains. Rather, he had pulled them almost completely open on the side facing Harry´s bed and then had rolled over to go back to sleep himself.

Harry found himself surprisingly comforted, and soon he was shaking off the remaining wispy images of the dream. It was only a dream, after all, and he was safe. Voldemort was nowhere around him. It was only another dream.

But even as he tried to convince himself of this, he couldn´t ignore the fact that the dreams had been coming with more and more frequency. Sometimes, in the daylight hours, it was almost easy to forget them. Spring had come at last to Hogwarts, and the clear, crisp skies and warm breezes had brought a light mood to the castle that few could escape. The grounds were buzzing with end-of-the year excitement, and even the thought of upcoming exams wasn´t enough to dampen anyone´s spirits just yet. The very castle itself seemed to be basking in the early May sun. On the surface, Hogwarts felt no less peaceful than it ever had, and it was almost easy to buy into it all, and slip into a comfortable charade of normalcy with everybody else.

But at nighttime, he knew better. This was when he was alone with his thoughts, and there was no sunlight or laughter to keep them at bay. In the eleven months that had passed since Voldemort´s rebirth, Harry had struggled to keep his emotions and fears in check. Most of the time, he thought he did a pretty good job of it. But lately he was beginning to falter. Ever since he had dreamt of Karkaroff´s death and Snape had left Hogwarts, a gnawing sense of dread had begun to overtake him. He´d tried to ignore it, tried to push it away, but it was relentless. It spoke to the deepest corners of Harry´s mind, taunting him with the knowledge that Voldemort was beginning to take action against his enemies, and was already a step ahead of the opposition. He had driven away their only ace in the hole, and as far as Harry knew, Dumbledore had no other cards on the table. And then, when Hermione - Hermione, who never gave up on anything - had finally admitted defeat in trying to locate the corners of the earth, something deeply embedded in the hiding places of his fear had come unraveled. The ruthless reality had crept up on him like a sudden storm that was now unleashing all its fury: Voldemort was alive, powerful, and ready for revenge.

And there wasn´t a damn thing anyone could do about it.

It was almost beginning to feel like some kind of twisted joke. Or a riddle that existed only in his own head, designed to torture him into insanity. Everything seemed so perfect and calm - too calm - and it seemed to Harry that the minutes and days ticking by were the dwindling clock of a time bomb, unnoticed by the world at large but just waiting for its moment to strike. It was like he was running from a speeding locomotive that no one else could see. Or that he was trapped in some kind of game that no one else could play.

It was maddening.

Harry wasn´t sure when he stopped thinking and started sleeping, but the next thing he knew, he was blinking against a stream of bright sunlight casting a sliver of gold across the floor next to his bed. A light breeze had wafted in through the window, sending a stray bit of unruly hair to tickle his cheek. Annoyed, Harry pushed it away and rolled over, thinking that he probably needed a haircut. It was odd, he thought. Usually Hermione was the one to point out to him when his hair was growing too long, before he even really noticed it. He supposed her preoccupation with the OWLs had kept her from paying attention to things like that lately. He made a mental note to ask her later if she could use a quick hair shortening charm on him.

Harry still felt tired, but even for a Saturday it was already late, and he didn´t want to sleep the entire day away. His roommates´ beds were already empty and he knew Ron would come looking for him soon if he didn´t join the land of the living. So with a sigh, Harry reluctantly rose and headed for the shower. He stood under the hot spray for a long time, letting it wash away the night until he felt fresh and alert and, for the moment, almost untroubled. Then he dressed and went off looking for his friends.

After a quick search of all the usual places, he found them outside on the lawn, along with what seemed like every other resident of the castle. It was a gorgeous day, with a clean, bright blue sky and warm, fragrant breezes.

Ron and Hermione sat on the grass near the lake, slightly away from everyone else. The sight of them made Harry smile. Ron had his arm around Hermione, and she had her head resting on his shoulder; they seemed to be talking quietly to one another. As Harry got nearer, he noticed with some surprise that they didn´t have any books with them. He wondered how on earth Ron had convinced Hermione to take a break from studying long enough to get some fresh air.

"Hey, you two," Harry said as he approached them. "I´ve been looking for you everywhere. Come outside to snog in the sun, have you?"

Expecting some kind of embarrassed retort to his comment, Harry was shocked when they both turned around and Hermione´s face was wet with tears. Ron looked very serious.

Harry froze on the spot, stomach dropping. "What?" he asked, his hands clenching themselves into fists at his sides. "What is it? What´s happened?"

Hermione´s face crumpled and she turned away, but she held a piece of paper out to Ron, who took it and offered it to Harry.

"Hermione´s house was broken into," Ron said.

"What?"

"It happened Thursday night, while her parents were sleeping. She got the owl this morning."

Harry´s mouth opened, but no words came out. He and Ron shared a long look, eyes speaking the words neither of them could find. Harry took the letter and read it, skimming over the writing several times before he was able to make any of it out. His mind was working overtime and his stomach was churning; his immediate thought was Death Eaters. Was this the beginning? Was Voldemort finally starting to come after him by hurting the people close to him? But after several minutes of struggling through his thoughts to make sense of the words on the paper, he realized it couldn´t have been Death Eaters, or anyone associated with the magical world at all. Hermione´s parents hadn´t been hurt, and had only realized they´d been burglarized the next morning, when they´d noticed all of their home entertainment equipment was gone, along with their entire collection of videos. Few wizards would have even known how to work those things, let alone have any reason to steal them. But still, it was frightening, knowing someone had been in the Grangers´ house without them knowing it, and Harry´s next thought was how incredibly relieved he was that Hermione had not been home when it happened.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked Hermione, dropping to the ground next to her.

She nodded, swiping at her eyes, and Ron put his arm around her again, rubbing her back. "Yes," she said. "It could have been worse, right? At least they weren´t hurt, and the burglars only took things that can be replaced. Well, aside from some of the videos. There were a lot of home movies in there that I know my parents will be upset to lose. But at least they weren´t hurt," she repeated.

"Exactly," Harry said, exchanging another look with Ron over Hermione´s head. "That´s the most important thing."

Hermione nodded, wiping her nose on a tissue she had crumbled up in her hand.

"The police have taken their statements," Ron told Harry, "and they´re going to try to find who did it so they can get their stuff back."

Harry nodded. "Well, that´s good. And in the meantime, are they going to change the locks or anything? They should probably do that."

"I suppose," Hermione said. "They know the burglars didn´t use a key because the lock was forced, but it´s better safe than sorry, right? They mentioned something about installing an alarm system..."

Harry settled himself on the ground next to Hermione and added his arm around her shoulders. "Everything´s okay," he told her. He didn´t really know what else to say; he knew he wasn´t very good at this kind of thing. He wished that there was something he could do to make her stop crying. "It will all be okay."

She turned to look at him, and smiled a little bit. "Thanks," she said, and after a moment she reached up a hand to push some hair out of his eyes. "Your hair is too long," she said absently.

Harry smiled and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I know."

They sat like that for a long time, until Hermione let out a heavy sigh and stood up. "We should go in," she said, straightening her shirt and smoothing her jeans unnecessarily. "It´ll be time for lunch."

Harry and Ron rose next to her, willing to go wherever she wanted right then, and she reached for Ron´s hand, taking it and gripping it tightly. They walked back to the castle in silence, until Hermione muttered, "I just want a phone or...something..." Her voice trembled and she sniffed, and Ron held her tighter, guiding her up the steps and inside.

Although she didn´t eat much, by the time lunch was over Hermione seemed to be in somewhat better spirits. She told them that she realized there was nothing she could do, and so there was no point sitting around moping over it...not when she had studying to do. Harry had to fight back a smirk at that, but refrained from commenting and accompanied her and Ron to the library without complaint.

For hours they stared at their books, but after a while Harry began to doubt how much any of them were accomplishing. No one seemed particularly focused, and Hermione just kept staring off into the distance. He was debating whether or not they should just give up when the door was flung open and Draco Malfoy entered the library, trailed by a whole throng of Slytherins. He shot a nasty look in the Gryffindors´ direction, as usual.

Harry, in particular, regarded Malfoy with an icy glare as he passed; he had been increasingly suspicious of Malfoy ever since he´d spotted his bizarre behavior on the Marauder´s Map the night that Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup. Harry and Ron had pondered it the next day, discussing all the possible reasons Malfoy could have had for sneaking around the Great Hall, but they had come up empty. Their only thought was that he had been tampering with the house points, but when they´d checked the hourglasses that kept track of the standings, they´d found that all was as it should have been. But Harry wasn´t content to just let it go. Malfoy was up to something. But what?

"Take a picture, Potter, it lasts longer," Malfoy spat, smirking as he passed.

"Eat flobberworm dung, Malfoy," Ron retorted, never looking up from his book.

Malfoy´s gray eyes flashed malevolently, and he swept over to where Ron sat in a flourish of black robes. In the second it took the Slytherin to react, Harry mentally rolled his eyes. Even on the weekends, Malfoy had to dress like a bloody stuffed shirt. What was he out to prove anyway? Harry wondered this for quite possibly the thousandth time.

"Don´t you ever get tired of being his ruddy bodyguard, Weasley?" Malfoy leaned over the table, daringly close to the trio, as if asserting some sort of God-given superiority. "It really is getting quite tiresome."

"Leave us alone, Malfoy," Harry said in a low voice. "I mean it."

"Or what?" Malfoy inquired sharply, his head snapping to face Harry. "You´ll sic your pauper of a protector on me? I´m shaking with fear." Malfoy pushed away from the table, unnecessarily shoving some of Hermione´s books across it as he did so, and opened his mouth to make some further nasty comment, but he was cut off by Ron who had gotten to his feet.

"I am seriously warning you, Malfoy," Ron said, coming around the edge of the table and drawing himself up to his full height. He looked down on the Slytherin with a venomous glare. "We are not in the mood for this today. So I suggest you take your little collection of lap dogs and get the hell away from us before I make you run away crying like a little girl."

At that, Crabbe and Goyle started to move forward, but Malfoy stuck his arms out, holding them back.

That was Malfoy. Always in control.

"If we´re going to talk about lap dogs, Weasley," Malfoy retorted, his lip twitching with malice, "why don´t you put your bite where your bark is for once? You seem to be all talk, you know that?" He snorted, then added scornfully under his breath, "Gryffindor bravery."

Ron´s hand shot out toward the front of Malfoy´s robes, and Harry was on his feet in a flash. Malfoy twitched, taking the tiniest step backwards, and Harry shoved his arm between the two foes, drawing Ron back.

"Stop it, Ron," Harry said quietly, shooting a meaningful glance in Hermione´s direction. She was sitting silent, watching the whole exchange with a markedly blank expression. "Don´t do this, not today."

Ron´s eyes flitted over to his girlfriend and Harry could see the intense internal struggle waging itself behind them. After a moment, Ron´s rigid posture began to relax and he stepped back, rubbing at his eyes. "Just go away, Malfoy," Ron said. "I´m not doing this with you right now."

Malfoy´s smirk returned. "Shocking, that. Maybe someday you´ll actually get up the balls to follow through on one of your threats. Until then, I won´t be holding my breath." With a wave of his arm, Malfoy summoned his housemates to follow him and they headed off for a table across the room.

"God, I hate that prick," Ron said scathingly, kicking his chair back into place and dropping into it.

"Ron," scolded Hermione, "please don´t use that language."

"There is no other language where he´s concerned, Hermione."

"You shouldn´t let yourself get so worked up over him."

"He practically called me a bloody coward!"

"So what?" she demanded. Ron looked at her as if she´d grown an extra head. "No one that matters thinks you´re a coward, Ron, and getting yourself a detention and losing a slew of house points on his account isn´t going to solve anything or make him less of a...what you said."

Ron scowled. "Maybe not, but it would certainly make me feel better to knock that arrogant smirk off his face for once."

"Ron, please," Hermione begged. "Can we please not do this right now?"

Ron looked into Hermione´s face and, after a moment, gave a defeated sigh. "You´re right," he mumbled, taking her hand. "You´re right. I´m sorry."

"I just don´t like to see him get the better of you," she told him. "He´s not worth it. And you´re bigger than that. Don´t let him bring you down to his level."

Ron sighed again and brought her hand up to his lips to kiss it. "Fine. I´ll try. But I can´t make any promises."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn´t stop a small smile from breaking through. "You´re hopeless," she muttered.

"Well, here´s one promise you can count on," Harry put in. He had been staring at the back of Malfoy´s shiny head since he´d left their table, choosing to ignore the icy stares he was getting back from Malfoy´s housemates. The arrogance and deceit Malfoy exuded was nearly palpable from across the room, and Harry couldn´t shake the feeling that the Slytherin had a scheme brewing beneath that platinum hair. He turned to face his friends. "Malfoy was up to something the night of the Quidditch final. He wasn´t sneaking around the Great Hall by himself for no reason. He´s got something up his sleeve. And I´m going to find out what it is."

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

"Harry, will you please stop staring at that thing and start paying attention?" Hermione snatched the Marauder´s Map out of Harry´s hand and tucked it into her book bag. "Honestly," she tutted.

It was nearly a week later and she, Harry, and Ron were sitting at a low table with stone benches in the middle of one of the courtyards within the outer castle walls. It was getting well on in the evening, but the sun was setting later and later now, and it was nice to spend some time outdoors once in a while rather than in the common room all the time. To Harry, the room was starting to feel claustrophobic.

"What are you going to tell Sirius if you fail all of your OWLs, hmmm?" Hermione asked. "That you were too busy watching Draco Malfoy sitting around in his common room studying to study yourself? Now," she said, smoothing out a roll of parchment. "Where were we?"

"Hermione, it´s Friday," Ron reminded her. "Can´t we just take a break from studying for one night?" He was sitting with his chin propped up in his hand, eyes glazed over, staring at a nearby tree. There was a bird´s nest in an upper branch, and every now and then a tiny head would pop up over the side and let out a small squawk. Watching it was far more entertaining than listening to Hermione drone on and on about the differences between the Athelas plant and Kingsfoil. Harry, meanwhile, had been only half-listening as well, studying the Marauder´s Map for any sign of suspicious behavior from Draco Malfoy. He´d been studying the map at every opportunity all week, looking for any sign of odd behavior from the Slytherin. Whether fortunately or not, he had seen none.

"No, Ronald, we can´t," Hermione huffed in response. "Especially not if you two are going to insist on being completely irresponsible and go into Hogsmeade tomorrow. We only have four weeks until the OWLs start, you know. Four weeks! You´ll never be prepared if you don´t start studying more, so you´d better pay attention. Just because Snape´s gone doesn´t mean we can all blow off Potions. Now, tell me - what is the difference between Athelas and Kingsfoil?"

Frustrated and tired, Ron ran a hand over his face and through his hair. It stuck straight up in the back. "Hermione, I really don´t think the teachers would have scheduled a Hogsmeade visit for tomorrow if they didn´t think it was all right for us all to go, and for the love of Merlin, I don´t know what the difference is between Athelas and Kingsfoil. One starts with an A and one starts with a K. How´s that?"

"Not all together incorrect, actually," Hermione replied testily, "even if you did only get it right because you´re being a cheeky git. There is no difference between the two. They´re the same plant and you´d better remember that for the exam, and I´m sure the teachers scheduled that Hogsmeade visit thinking it would be a nice break for everyone because anyone with any brains in their head would have been studying for weeks already. You two have barely started."

"Well, thank you, Mother, for pointing that out," Ron snapped. "Because Harry and I certainly aren´t capable of making any decisions for ourselves, and we need you nagging at us every minute of the day, telling us what to do."

That stopped Hermione dead in her tracks. At first, she just stared at Ron with a stony expression, but when tears started welling up in her eyes, she looked away, slamming her books shut and gathering them up in her arms. She stood up and tossed her bag over her shoulder. "All I´m trying to do is help you," she said, and then she reached into her bag, pulled out the Marauder´s Map, and threw it at Harry. "Here," she told him, and then she stormed off without another word.

Harry and Ron watched her leave and neither of them spoke for several seconds. When she was completely out of sight, Harry rolled up the Marauder´s Map and stuck it in his own bag.

"She is only trying to help us," Harry said uncomfortably, pulling his own Potions book towards him. "She doesn´t mean to be so impossible."

"I know," Ron said, a little more shortly than he probably intended. "But she´s just so frustrating sometimes." He crumbled up a piece of parchment that he´d been doodling on and knocked it to the ground. "Why does she have to go and start crying like that?" he added, under his breath.

"She´s stressed out," reasoned Harry, turning a page of his book while watching Ron over his glasses. His best friend sighed and lowered his face into his hands, rubbing at his eyes.

"I know," Ron said guiltily, and Harry knew he was probably thinking of how upset Hermione still was about the break-in at her house. "I just..."

"What?" Harry asked when Ron didn´t continue.

"Everything´s so serious." Ron lifted his head to look at Harry and there was an expression in his eyes that Harry really didn´t expect. He looked almost sad. Sorrowful.

Harry closed his book. "What are you talking about?"

"She just...she never lets herself have any fun, you know? Everything is so important, all the time, and..." Ron hesitated.

"What?" Harry prodded him.

"Well, there´s enough of that going on already," he said meaningfully. It took a moment for Harry to realize what he was saying, and when he did, he felt a small measure of relief.

"I thought I was the only one who still worried about any of that," Harry said sheepishly.

Ron shook his head. "You´re not. It´s all I think about too, most of the time, especially after..." he looked at Harry a little uncomfortably. "After what happened, with your dream."

"Karkaroff," Harry said, in lieu of `the night I woke up the entire tower screaming from the excruciating pain, you mean?´

"Yeah. I mean, things in this world are already serious enough as it is, without her having to go and make them worse. It just gets so tiring. And honestly, sometimes I wonder if she´s ever going to lighten up enough to enjoy the things that are really important...while we all have the chance."

Harry felt goose bumps rise on his skin, unbidden, and suppressed a shiver. "Don´t talk like that," he said fiercely.

"I´m just being honest, Harry. You know better than anyone that things aren´t going to stay this peaceful forever, and Hermione knows it too." Ron paused, regarding Harry carefully. "She´s still working on it, you know."

"Working on what?"

"Finding the corners of the earth."

"What?" Harry asked, feeling a sudden coldness of surprise drop into his stomach. "Why? I thought she´d given up on that. She said she´d tried everything she could think of and didn´t know what else to do."

"Why?" Ron echoed. "Because she doesn´t know what else to do with herself, Harry. And that´s exactly the problem."

Harry didn´t know what to say. Secretly, he felt a small surge of hope at the idea that Hermione hadn´t really given up. But at the same time, the cynic in him couldn´t help but think that the only thing that would come of it would be further exhaustion and short-temperedness on Hermione´s part.

"Do you want to know why I hated Viktor Krum so much?" Ron asked suddenly.

"What?" Harry asked, surprised by the unexpected question.

"Really, do you want to know why?"

Harry would have laughed if Ron´s tone and expression hadn´t been so serious. He´d wanted nothing more than to know the answer to that very question back in fourth year, though he´d slowly come to figure it out on his own.

"I think that´s pretty clear now," Harry said with a half-smile.

"No," Ron said. "That wasn´t the only reason. I mean, yes, I was jealous, but I didn´t realize that´s how I felt at the time. I realized something else first."

"What was it?"

"I hated who she was when she was with him."

Harry´s brow wrinkled. "What?"

"Well, that´s not entirely true. I loved who she was when she was with him. The ruddy prat," Ron added under his breath. Harry smirked. "But I hated that she couldn´t be that way with us...with me."

"What on earth are you on about, Ron?"

"She let herself have fun with him, Harry. She let herself relax and she let down her guard, and I just couldn´t figure it out. He was no one to her, really, was he? She didn´t care about him the way he cared about her. It was obvious from the beginning. And yet she let herself have fun and forget all about classes or that stupid SPEW thing or whoever was out to kill you or anything else that she was taking so seriously at the time. I saw it the night of the Yule Ball. He got to have that part of her and we didn´t. I didn´t. And I really thought that...once we were together..."

"You thought you´d get to share that with her too," Harry said, finally understanding.

"Well...yeah," Ron finished somewhat anti-climatically and sat back in his chair with a sigh.

"Well," Harry attempted, "maybe after the OWLs..."

Ron snorted. "After the OWLs? After the OWLs, she´ll probably start studying for the NEWTs. They´re only two years away, Ronald!" Ron impersonated. "We can´t afford to waste a single day! You should start studying too, you know. Haven´t you even begun to organize yet?"

Harry had to struggle not to laugh; he held back for Ron´s sake.

"I just wish things could be different," Ron said. "Like the day we had our date in Hogsmeade, or the time we spent together after we won the Quidditch Cup..."

Instantly, Harry´s ears perked up. Ever since that night, when Ron and Hermione had been conspicuously absent for at least five hours, Harry had hounded Ron to tell him what they´d been up to. Secretly, he wasn´t sure he wanted all the details, but it was fun watching Ron squirm and refuse to give anything up.

"Yeah?" Harry prodded again.

"Well," Ron continued, "let´s just say I did see that other side of her. And it´s so...she was just so happy. And I just wish things could be like that all the time." Ron trailed off and looked down at the table.

Harry didn´t really know what to say. He wished he had some advice, but if he´d learned anything about Hermione over the years, it was that there was no changing her. And yet he could see why it upset Ron so much to watch Hermione continue to stress herself out. She owed it to herself to lighten up a little. But he had no idea how they could make her see that.

"Nothing´s perfect all the time," Harry finally said.

Ron sighed and looked back at the bird´s nest. There were two small, noisy heads poking up now; they were talking to each other. "I know that. And I don´t expect everything to be perfect, I just expect...I just wish she would stop running herself into the ground. She should be better to herself."

Harry smiled. "Hermione is lucky to have you, you know that?"

Ron let out a mirthless half-laugh. "Make her see that."

"She sees that."

The two boys fell quiet for a few minutes, until Harry broke the silence by saying lightly, "So, do you feel like telling me what the two of you were up to that night?"

Ron shot Harry a look. "Nice try."

"Damn," Harry said, grinning. "Thought you might fall for it if I caught you off guard."

Ron leaned down and picked up the piece of his crumbled parchment from the ground, and threw it at Harry. "Not a chance."

"Oh, come on," Harry pushed. "I´m your best friend. If you can´t tell me, who can you tell?"

"No one!" Ron replied. A very distinctive pink tinge began rising in his ears. "No one, thank you very much."

"Wimp. Blokes are supposed to talk about this kind of thing, you know."

"Are they? Well...not this bloke." Ron said solemnly.

With a resigned sigh, Harry started to turn his attention back to his studying. But then a moment later, Ron spoke up again.

"Wait," he said, his voice wavering slightly, "actually...do you want to know the truth?"

Harry looked up with a raised eyebrow. Ron´s face was fully red now and he had trouble looking Harry in the eye, but his tone was serious when he asked, "Do you want to know what we did?"

Harry was so surprised at the offer that he didn´t know what to think or how to answer. "Well...yeah."

Ron took a deep breath. "Hermione slept."

"Uh, come again?"

"You heard me. Well, at first we flew. She loved it." A small and knowing smile found its way to Ron´s lips. "And don´t let her tell you any different."

Harry laughed. The only information he´d been able to get out of Hermione about what she and Ron had done that evening was how terrified she´d been on the broom and how Ron flew like a maniac.

"She was afraid at first, but after a few minutes she relaxed. I´ve never seen her look so relaxed or happy. She told me she loved it and that she wished we could do it every day." Ron chuckled dryly. "I told her we could if she wanted, but has it happened? Nope. Too busy studying for the OWLs." Ron sighed. "Anyway, we flew for a while, but I was so sore and stiff from the match that I couldn´t stay up for long, so we landed at the top of Gryffindor Tower and just sat there, watching the sunset. I, uh..." Ron blushed even more deeply at this point and had to visibly struggle to say more, "I was, uh, holding her in my arms, and while we were sitting there...she fell asleep. She hadn´t slept all that night, remember? She was exhausted. She slept for hours, and I let her."

"She slept," Harry said, trying to hold back a laugh of disbelief.

"Were you listening to the story?" Ron asked irritably.

"I´m sorry, I just can´t believe she slept. All this time I´ve been thinking you´d managed to..." Harry waved his arm around, in suggestion of the words he couldn´t bring himself to say, "you know."

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed.

"No, no, I don´t mean...that!" Harry corrected, feeling himself flush a bit as well. "Just, you know...something."

"Well, she didn´t sleep the whole time," Ron replied defensively. "She woke up eventually, and then we..."

"You know, that´s okay," Harry told him quickly, before Ron could get up the nerve to tell him more than he really wanted to hear. "I don´t need to hear any more."

"Well, we did something," Ron muttered grumpily.

"Really don´t have to tell me!"

"I´m not a complete prude, you know."

"Seriously don´t need to hear any more," Harry said, pressing his hands over his ears. Teasing Ron about Hermione was one thing, but hearing the sordid and graphic details was quite another. He had seen them getting ready to kiss down by the lake, after all. That was more than enough to feed his curiosity.

"Well, anyway, none of that is the point," Ron said. "The point is that she was bloody exhausted and I´m sick of seeing her do that to herself."

"Well, for what it´s worth, I´m sick of it too, but there´s nothing we can do about it," Harry said. "She´s not going to change, no matter how many times you ask her to stop being such a maniac. All that´s going to happen is that she´s going to get angry and you two will fight and then you´ll have to apologize and nothing will change."

"That´s not good enough."

"Sorry, mate, but it has to be good enough. She´s the girl. I´m pretty sure she wins by default."

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

When Harry and Ron went back to the common room later that night, Hermione was nowhere to be found. It was still relatively early, especially for a Friday, and Harry and Ron assumed she must have gone up to her room to study in solitude. Ron wondered if he should go find her and apologize, but decided the best course of action was probably just to give her some space and wait for her to speak to him again. But the next morning, she didn´t appear in the common room or the Great Hall before the boys left for Hogsmeade, and Ron spent virtually the entire day asking Harry if he thought she´d stay mad at him forever. Finally, he decided to buy her a present as a peace offering, and got her an entire sack of chocolate covered sugar quills, her favorite sweet from Honeydukes. She never left Hogsmeade without at least one bag.

When the boys returned to the castle that evening, they found Hermione in the common room, curled up on a sofa near the stairs. She was surrounded by books. They didn´t look like her school texts to Harry, but he didn´t get close enough to see what they were. He let Ron go to her by himself, to offer his gift and try to smooth things over.

Harry watched Ron walk over to where she sat and stand over her, waiting patiently for her to pay him any attention. After a moment, he held out the package he´d brought for her, and she looked up at him.

"Chocolate covered sugar quills," he told her. "I know they´re your favorite."

Her expression remained blank, but after a few seconds she reached out and took the package. "Thank you," she said shakily. Then, "I´m sorry." She whispered the words breathlessly, as if on the verge of tears.

Ron dropped to his knees next to the couch and drew her into his arms. "No, I´m sorry. It was my fault. I never should have yelled at you like that."

Hermione let out a small sob and clung to Ron´s neck.

"Hey," Ron said, pulling back to look at her face. A few tears had escaped down her cheeks, and the look on Ron´s face was heartbreaking. "I told you, it was my fault," he said, wiping a tear away a little awkwardly with his thumb. "Why are you crying?"

"I´m sorry," she repeated. Her voice was fragile and she gave another choked sob, pulling Ron´s face down to rest her forehead against his. She held his face in her hands and he leaned his head in until their lips met.

For the first time since Ron and Hermione had been together, they kissed in public without Ron blushing. Harry felt a smile rising as he realized that something really had changed between them after that night - the night of the Quidditch final. They were more comfortable with each other, more secure, somehow, and it was a little bit startling for him to realize that they now shared a bond that was completely external to the friendship the three of them had. This was completely between Ron and Hermione and, while it didn´t diminish his happiness at the progression of their relationship one bit, it did feel a little...lonely.

Ron was whispering something to Hermione now and she was nodding, fingers still on the sides of his face; he turned his head, capturing one of her hands with his and bringing it to his lips.

"You´re too good," Harry heard Hermione say distinctly, and Ron smiled.

"Oh, good lord, will you two get a room already?" Fred and George Weasley had spotted their brother, and the blush that had been so surprisingly absent in Ron´s face now rose with startling speed.

"Keep walking, Fred," Ron said, and Hermione quickly wiped at her face, making sure there was no lingering evidence of her tears. Fred and George grinned at the couple, enjoying, as always, making them squirm, but mercifully disappeared up the stairs to their dorm without another jibe.

When they were gone, Hermione smiled weakly at Ron. He considered her for a long moment, and then turned and called, "Oy! Harry!" There was a twinkle in his eyes that was visible from across the room.

"Yup?" Harry called back.

"I was thinking. Since it´s Saturday night and everything, and we´re young and wild and crazy and all that, do you feel like spending the rest of the evening studying for the OWLs with us?"

"Yup."

"Fabulous. I´ll bring the margaritas, you bring the ice."

"Done."

Ron grinned at Hermione, who laughed, and said, "You really don´t have to."

"Are you kidding?" Ron replied. "I can´t think of any other way I´d rather spend a Saturday night. And besides..." He took a look around and then lowered his voice. "I really think maybe I should start studying."

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

Snore.

"One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand, four."

Snore.

"One, one thousand, two, one thousand, three, one thousand, four."

Neville Longbottom´s snores were exactly four seconds apart. Having spent the better part of half an hour counting snores, Harry was now quite sure of this. It was funny, he thought, how everyone snored differently. Ron´s snores were more frequent, coming about every two and a half seconds or so, and were much softer. Seamus and Dean didn´t snore at all, though sometimes Seamus mumbled. Dean slept like a log.

These were the kinds of activities that kept Harry occupied in the night, when he couldn´t sleep. He was truly beginning to hate the nighttime. If it wasn´t nightmares, it was insomnia, and it seemed to him that whenever one struck, he was always wishing for the other. He sighed and punched his pillow, fluffing it into a more comfortable position, and turned over onto his side, staring out the window. It was a clear night and hundreds of stars winked at him from the small square of sky. He tried to count them, but they were too fuzzy without his glasses on, and then he found himself wondering which of them were little more than nebulae and which were dying. It always made him feel so small to think about the life of a star...even one on its deathbed would still be in existence a million years from now, when his own life would be little more than a speck on the vast canvas of the past.

Well, that´s a pleasant thing to contemplate, Harry thought to himself. That´s the last time I study Astronomy before bed.

It was late Sunday night, or early Monday morning, technically, and Harry had barely slept a wink. He was tired enough, that was for sure; after having spent the entire day and most of the previous evening revising notes for the OWLs, his brain had officially checked out and had strongly urged his consciousness to follow. But once his head had hit the pillow his eyelids had lost any hint of heaviness and all he had done was toss and turn, floating in and out of half-dreams. His limbs were getting twitchy and he thought about getting up and going downstairs to sit in the common room for a while, but he had spent the entire day sitting down there, surrounded by books, and the thought of returning there right now made him want to scream.

Sleep, he told himself. Sleep...just sleep. He closed his eyes, consciously slowed his breathing, and willfully relaxed all his muscles. He made himself lie still and he cleared his head, and finally, he began to slip into unconsciousness. But just as sleep was about to take him, something pulled him back. It was the sound of the door creaking open; someone must have been getting up to go to the bathroom. Harry tried very hard to ignore it and cling to the beginnings of sleep, but to no avail. He heard a voice.

"Ron?"

Harry tensed. Someone was in the room. And it sounded like -

"Ron?" The whisper came again, more insistently. It was Hermione.

Harry laid still, breathing deeply as if asleep, wondering what in the world Hermione thought she was doing, sneaking into their room like this. And then in nearly the same instant, he wondered if she´d done it before...if it was some kind of game that she and Ron played whenever they got a little too lonely in the middle of the night...if Ron was expecting her...

Ewwww, Harry thought to himself. Let´s not think too much about that.

The floor creaked as she crept closer, and then Harry heard the distinct sound of bed hangings being drawn aside.

"Ron," she said a third time, even more quietly, as she was now presumably shaking Ron awake, and whispering into his ear. "Wake up."

At last Ron apparently became aware of the presence, and he groaned something loud and unintelligible.

"Shhhh!" Hermione shushed him. "Be quiet, just get up and come with me."

"Hermione?" came Ron´s voice, sleepy, confused, and startled. "What in Merlin´s name are you doing? You´re not supposed to be in here!"

"Really?" Hermione´s voice was laced with sarcasm. "I had no idea. Obviously I´m not trying to be quiet or anything."

Harry imagined Ron gaping at her with a bewildered expression containing something like horrified embarrassment. Harry happened to know for a fact that Ron often slept in nothing but his pajama bottoms, and sometimes only boxer shorts when it was very warm out...like tonight.

"What are you doing?´ he asked, voice full of a mixture of chagrin and curious suspicion. "Why are you out of bed?"

"I haven´t been to bed yet," she replied. "I have to show you something. Now. Downstairs."

"What? Is something wrong?"

"No. You´ll see in a minute, if you´d just get up. I´m going to wake Harry, and then -"

There was a sound of sudden movement and then Ron´s voice became clearer, more alert. "No."

"Shhhh!" Her reply was impatient. "Why not? Let go of me, Ron, I told you, it´s important."

"No, don´t wake him up, Hermione." His voice was persistent. "Whatever it is, it can´t be that important. It can wait till morning."

Hermione tutted. "No, it can´t. He´ll want to know, trust me." But then the tone of her voice changed, as she apparently took better notice of her surroundings. "Why are his bed hangings open?"

There was a creak as Ron got out of bed, and Harry heard him sigh. "They´re always open." Harry pictured Ron´s bathrobe lying on the chair next to his bed, and him reaching for it, slipping it on. "He doesn´t think anybody notices, but we all do."

Harry´s insides gave a funny jump. He really hadn´t thought anyone noticed that he never closed his curtains.

"Why doesn´t he close them?"

"Why do you think?" There was a gentle scratching noise as Ron pulled his slippers out from underneath the bed. "He has nightmares all the time, Hermione. His sleep is all wrong, in every possible way. Which is why you´re not waking him up. He´s still and quiet right now, and that doesn´t happen often, let me tell you. There´s no way we´re waking him up; he needs to sleep."

There was silence for a few moments, and Harry could feel eyes boring into his back, even after the door creaked quietly open again.

"Well, come on," Ron whispered.

"I..." Hermione´s voice was heavy, pierced with audible sadness, even on the solitary syllable.

"I know," Ron answered softly.

There was a shuffling noise again, of quiet footsteps coming closer.

"No, don´t touch him," Ron implored, though his voice caught on something like regret. "You´ll wake him up. Just come on."

After a slight pause, the footsteps padded away, and then the door slowly swung shut, latching softly.

Harry didn´t waste a moment. He found his glasses and slipped them on, then threw off his covers and went quickly to his trunk. He heaved the lid open and grabbed his invisibility cloak, draping it over himself and tucking the ends in carefully. When he was fully covered, he hurried to the door and slipped silently out of the room.

He didn´t fancy himself an eavesdropper, but something was going on and it seemed important. Not only that, but Hermione meant to include him on it, and there was certainly no way he´d be able to sleep now - not until he knew what was going on.

He crept into the corridor and down the first few steps to where the staircase stretched out in a landing. There was a railing there, where one could stand and look down into the common room. Hermione was leading Ron by the hand to the wall on their right, where there were floor to ceiling bookcases, with only a small gap in the middle. In this gap, the wall curved smoothly back, forming a nook that housed a large standing globe. It was the same globe Hermione had stood at weeks ago, the morning of the Quidditch final, when she had shown Harry and Ron her final idea about the corners of the earth. She had been trying to pinpoint the locations based on the alignments of significant stars with points on the earth during the Solstices. The locations she´d mapped were nowhere near where Hawaiian legend dictated they should be, and that was the last time she´d spoken of the corners of the earth to Harry.

"I found them."

Harry´s heart leapt against his ribs.

"What?" Ron asked. "You...you found the corners?" His eyes had grown wide and he moved in closer, peering at the globe anxiously as if it was about to speak to him and reveal all the secrets of the universe.

"Yes," she answered. "At least, I think I have."

Ron stared at her, bewildered. "You really found them?" he asked. "How did you figure it out? When? Why didn´t you say so right away? And why aren´t you more excited?" He had grabbed her by the shoulders and was nearly shaking her. "Tell me, show me!"

Hermione smiled tiredly and drew out her wand. "I am excited, believe me. Just infinitely exhausted." She pointed her wand at the air around the globe, moving it around as she spoke. Thin strands of golden light dripped out, marking the path she made with her wand. "After I discovered the star webs that are based on the three qualities of the universe," she began, "I just knew they had to be the keys to finding the locations of the corners. But I was going about it all wrong. I was treating each quality, and the central star of each web representing that quality, separately."

The strings of light that Hermione had conjured were an exact replication of those she had shown to Harry and Ron the morning of the Quidditch final. She had created a model of the three stars, locating them at their proper positions around the globe so that they were precisely where they would be in relation to the earth on the Summer Solstice. The strands of light stretched between each star and the globe, touching the surface at three distinct points. Hermione spun the globe around, demonstrating the rotation the earth would make on the Summer Solstice, and the points of alignment on the earth´s surface shifted as she did so, making circles on the globe until the globe was back where it had started. She had known immediately upon showing Harry and Ron these lineups the first time that they couldn´t be correct. According to the legend of the Carnelian Key, one of the alignments was supposed to be directly along the equator, and should have traveled the length of it over the course of a 24-hour rotation. But none of the three alignments did that.

"Obviously, this isn´t right. I knew it couldn´t be right, but at the same time, I couldn´t figure out how it could be wrong. And then...it hit me."

Hermione spoke with such calmness that Harry wondered if she was numb with shock, much like he was feeling at the moment. This couldn´t really be it, could it? She couldn´t have really found the corners of the earth, after all this time and all of their research and all of her hard work...could she?

"I was treating each star separately. But to the culture that is responsible for the legend, these stars represented something. They represented their entire belief system, which centers on the very idea that nothing is wholly independent. The three universal qualities work together to keep the world in balance. So..." Hermione directed her wand at the stars again. "Why shouldn´t the stars representing those qualities work together too?" She gave a flick of her wrist, and new strings of light appeared. This time they were red, and there were three of them. But these strings of light didn´t touch the globe; rather, they connected each of the stars in space, creating a sort of haphazard triangle around the outside of the globe.

"Watch," she breathed. Her face glowed in the dim golden red light and Ron looked on, fascinated. Harry´s heartbeat was growing louder in his ears and his knees grew shaky. He wondered if they would give out if he didn´t sit down, but he found that he couldn´t move. He was rooted to the spot.

Hermione pointed her wand and a silvery mist of light enshrouded the globe and the air around it. Slowly, three small beads of light grew in the middle of each side of the triangle, marking the midpoints. And when Hermione gave one more flick of her wand, the beads began traveling through space to the surface of the globe, pulling the sides of the triangle into V´s, until at last, they made contact.

One was directly on the equator.

Harry´s breath caught in his throat and for a second, he wondered if his heart had just stopped beating.

Ron gasped loudly. "Merlin," was all he could manage to say, and he and Harry both stared as Hermione turned the globe again. The bead of light that had touched the equator didn´t stray from it as the globe spun. It followed directly along the equator until the globe was back at the starting point.

"This is it," Hermione whispered. "Look." As she had spun the globe, the circles made by each point of alignment had stayed visible, as if drawn on the globe in shiny red ink. Now she pointed at the two that were not on the equator. "The corner of the earth that is accessible on the Summer Solstice must be somewhere along one of these two circles."

"How do we figure out where?" Ron asked.

"We know it has to be in the northern hemisphere, because it´s said to be `accessible on the longest day of the year´. The Summer Solstice is only the longest day of the year in the northern hemisphere. In the southern hemisphere, the longest day is the Winter Solstice."

"So do you think one of the three corners is accessible in the northern hemisphere on the Summer Solstice, one in the southern hemisphere on the Winter Solstice, and one on the equator...when?"

"I don´t know. Every day is the same length at the equator year-round. There is no `longest day of the year´. I think you´re right about the first two, but as for the third...it must either be accessible all the time or never. Though I don´t think it really matters for our purposes. According to the legend, we only need to be concerned with the two corners that Iakopa made into hiding places for the box and keys."

"But even so," Ron said, excitement slowly diminishing from his voice, "the circles that are formed by these alignments are huge. They circle the entire globe. It´s still like looking for a needle in a haystack."

Hermione smiled. "Not necessarily. Watch." Once again, Hermione pointed her wand at the three makeshift stars, and once again, she sent the three strands of light down from them directly to touch the surface of the globe. "These are the alignments that each star forms individually." She spun the globe again, and this time, the circles formed by these alignments stayed visible on the globe as well, glowing in gold. "Look," she said when she was finished. She pointed at the globe.

"What?" Ron asked, confused. He obviously didn´t know what he was supposed to be looking at.

"Look closely."

Ron stepped closer to the globe, reaching out a hand to touch it. He turned it slowly, studying the lines that had formed, and then suddenly, Harry saw it. So did Ron apparently, for he let out a breathless exclamation and drew his hand away.

"Oh my God." Harry whispered the words in unison with Ron.

The three circles that were formed on the earth´s surface by the individual alignments of the stars overlapped together at one point and one point only. And this point lay directly on one of the two red circles.

"There," Hermione said. "Do you see where that is?"

"I see it," Ron answered, stepping back in shock.

"It´s not forty miles from here," she said. "In the mountains somewhere. Due west of Hogwarts."

At some point - Harry didn´t know when - he´d sank to his knees on the landing of the stairs. Every inch of his skin felt like it was tingling, and his ears kept replaying what he had heard over and over again, as if he was listening to a scratched record. Hermione had found the corners. And one of them was right in their very own backyard.

"Do you want to see the one that is accessible on the Winter Solstice?" she asked Ron. He didn´t answer her, as he didn´t seem able to find his voice. She waved her wand in front of her and all the lines and lights vanished. She re-conjured the stars in different places this time, presumably at their Winter Solstice locations. In mere seconds, she had repeated the entire process until shiny lines were glowing on the surface of the globe again, this time in different locations. She spun the globe until she found the single point where the alignment was formed a second time.

"Namibia," she said. "Somewhere outside the city of Ondangwa, near the Angolan border."

The words were lost on Harry, and on Ron it seemed. Harry just sat where he was, mind reeling from shock, while Ron backed away from the globe and sank numbly into an armchair. Hermione remained standing at the globe, looking victorious but exhausted. In fact, Harry had never seen her look quite like this. A strange vacant look was in her eyes as she stared at the globe before her, and her breathing was shallow. If Harry hadn´t known better, he might have thought she was ill. She looked incredibly pale in the odd light and, unless his eyes were playing tricks on him across the short distance, she was trembling.

Nearly forgetting that he was invisible to his friends, Harry started to speak her name, but Ron had already noticed that something wasn´t quite right with his girlfriend.

"Hermione?" Ron was still seated in his chair, but was eyeing Hermione with obvious concern. "Hey," he said, rising. "Are you all right?"

Hermione swayed a little on the spot as she turned her head toward Ron. He came up next to her and reached out to steady her, just as her hand closed around his arm. "Yes," she said weakly, wearing a weary smile. "Just...tired. It´s three in the morning and I haven´t slept...I´ve been staying up late every night..."

Ron began leading her to the chair so that she could sit down, but before they reached it she said, "I feel dizzy." Her voice sounded fearful and suddenly more aware of what was happening, and before he realized he´d moved, Harry was on his feet, starting down the stairs.

"Here," Ron said shakily, holding her tight around the waist. "Sit down, and -"

But before he´d finished his sentence, Hermione suddenly became dead weight in his arms; her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor.

"Hermione?" Ron asked frantically. He´d managed to half-catch her as she fell, and he sank down next to her. "Hermione!" She was out cold.

Invisibility cloak forgotten, Harry flew down the stairs, feeling the silky fabric slide off of him.

"Hermione!" Ron was panicking, shaking her arm as he lowered her fully to the floor. He put one hand under her neck so she wouldn´t hit her head, and her head lolled to the side, softly coming to rest on the carpet.

"Hermione?" Harry called, reaching her and Ron and throwing himself down next to them. He felt her head and found that it was ice cold under his fingers.

Ron looked between Harry and Hermione in shock. "Harry? Where were-?"

"Not now, Ron," he replied anxiously. "Come on, let´s get her to the hospital wing."

Ron nodded and slipped his arms underneath her back and her knees, and in one surprisingly quick motion, was on his feet with Hermione in his arms. Harry hurried before them, flinging open the portrait hole, and they rushed out of the common room heading for the hospital wing.

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

"Has she been ill?"

"No," Ron said irritably, pushing his fingers through his hair. "She´s been fine."

"Has this happened before?"

"No! Do you think I wouldn´t have brought her here if this happened before?"

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips as she tended to Hermione, who was stretched out on one of the beds in the hospital wing, still unconscious. Ron was hovering on her heels, extremely distraught, and Harry lingered nearby, wanting to get closer but not wanting to be in the way.

"Why isn´t she awake yet?" Harry asked.

"This girl is exhausted!" Madam Pomfrey replied, hands going to her hips. Her tone suggested that she was angry with his question, as if Hermione´s exhaustion was somehow Harry´s fault.

Well, Harry pondered, maybe it is, in a way.

"It´s a wonder this didn´t happen sooner, from the looks of her! What has she been doing to herself?"

"Running herself into the ground with all her studying, that´s what," Ron replied tetchily. "I tried to tell her she was being insane. I´ve tried to get her to take better care of herself -"

Ron was cut off by Madam Pomfrey´s sudden intake of air. Her eyes grew wide as she looked at Ron, and her hand went to her mouth.

"What?" asked Ron, panicked.

"Is she...she could be..." Madam Pomfrey´s eyes narrowed, and she regarded Ron suspiciously. "Why have you been trying to get her to take better care of herself?"

"Because she´s a maniac, that´s why! She never gives herself a moment´s rest, and -"

"Oh is that all it is, is it? Too much studying? Hmmm." Madam Pomfrey turned from Ron and took Hermione´s wrist in her hand, feeling her pulse. After a moment, she released it and pulled out her wand, passing it over Hermione´s midsection and muttering some words.

"What do you mean, is that all it is? What else could it be, unless there´s something wrong with her? Is there something wrong with her?" Ron´s fear was leading him to anger, and he threw his arms up impatiently. "Why aren´t you doing anything? Why aren´t you trying to wake her up?"

"Perhaps you would be in a better position to tell us what is wrong with her, Mr. Weasley," the nurse replied in a chilly tone. "I´ve worked at this school for many years, you know, and I wasn´t born yesterday. Her symptoms are quite clear - exhaustion is always the first sign - and it´s been quite obvious as of late that the two of you have developed a relationship that -"

Harry felt his jaw drop open as he caught her insinuation, shocked that she would even suggest such a thing. Ron´s face went immediately scarlet and he clenched his fist.

"What are you implying?" he asked her.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, if you´d just tell the truth," she began, "it will make things easier on everyone. Is it possible that Miss Granger is-"

"No," Ron said sharply.

"Come now, Mr. Weasley."

"No," he repeated, stepping closer. "And I suggest you stop wasting time and find out what is wrong with her. She´s been unconscious for at least ten minutes now. She should have come to already-"

"Ron?"

All eyes snapped to Hermione, who had finally opened her own and was struggling to sit up.

"Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, immediately putting her hands out to push Hermione back against the pillows. "You just lie still. How are you feeling? Are you dizzy? Nauseous?"

"No," Hermione said weakly, looking around herself in confusion. "Just...sleepy. What happened? Ron?"

Ron pushed rather rudely around Madam Pomfrey and came to Hermione´s side, taking her hand in one of his and pushing her hair back off her face with the other. "You fainted," he told her, perching himself on the edge of the bed. "Just like that. You scared the hell out of me. Out of us," he added, turning around to look at Harry.

"Harry?" Hermione said. "Oh gosh, I´m sorry, I...I don´t know what happened. I just...couldn´t stay on my feet." She looked a little afraid, and Harry moved closer as Ron pressed her hand to his lips.

"You don´t have anything to apologize for," Harry told her. "As long as you´re all right."

"But I frightened you," she said regretfully. "I´m sorry."

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter seem to think you´ve been pushing yourself too hard, Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said, taking a bottle out of the cabinet next to Hermione´s bed. She poured some of the contents into a glass and stirred it around with a wave of her wand. The liquid became bright pink. "Drink," she ordered, handing it to Hermione. "They say that you´ve been studying too much and not getting any sleep."

Hermione looked sheepish as she drank from the glass, grimacing at the taste. "That might be true," she admitted, grudgingly. "I´ve..." she looked at Ron knowingly, almost guiltily, and said, "I´ve been working on some things." Hermione and Ron both sent half-glances in Harry´s direction, and Harry realized that in all the confusion, they probably didn´t realize he had overheard everything and knew exactly what she had been working on.

"Well, what kinds of things?" Madam Pomfrey demanded. "Nothing could be so important that you should sacrifice your health for it! I understand that you are taking your exams seriously, and I would never discourage that, but really! You need to be sure you´re getting proper rest and nourishment. Look at you!" Madam Pomfrey tutted in an over-motherly fashion. "Look at how thin you are! Have you been eating properly?"

Hermione rolled her eyes slightly and Harry held back a smile. "I´m fine, really," she told the nurse. "Just tired."

"You fainted, Miss Granger! I don´t take that lightly. Did you eat today?" There was no escaping Madam Pomfrey´s scrupulous eye, it seemed.

"She didn´t," Harry said suddenly, remembering. "She didn´t eat today."

Madam Pomfrey looked aghast, and Hermione seemed surprised. "What are you talking about, Harry?" she asked. "Of course I ate today."

"No," he said, shaking his head, and mentally scolding himself for not making sure she took better care of herself. "You didn´t. We didn´t go to the Great Hall at all today, remember? We just sat in the common room studying all day, and Ron and I filled up on all the sweets we brought back from Honeydukes yesterday-"

Madam Pomfrey tutted in disapproval.

"But I never saw you have any."

Hermione´s mouth fell open a little. "I...I guess I didn´t."

"Well, that explains everything," Madam Pomfrey said in a scolding tone. "All you children are the same, thinking you´re invincible. I´m going to be keeping my eye on you, Miss Granger, and that means starting now. You will be sleeping the rest of the night in here, and there will be no classes for you tomorrow."

Hermione sputtered and began to protest, but Madam Pomfrey cut her off with a curt tsking sound.

"Don´t argue with me, missy. You need rest and nourishment, and that is what you will get. Now say goodbye to your friends. You can see them back in Gryffindor Tower tomorrow night. You won´t be going anywhere before then."

Hermione looked chagrined, but Harry secretly thought this was the best thing for her.

"Missing one day of classes won´t kill you, Hermione," he told her, stepping closer so that he could lean down and kiss her on the top of her head. "We´ll take really, really good notes for you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, sure."

"Hermione, please," Ron said quietly. "Please get some rest. I´ve never been so bloody scared in all my life."

Any wind that had been in Hermione´s sails promptly abandoned her. She squeezed Ron´s hand and managed a defeated smile. "All right."

"Okay, you two, out you go. Shoo!" Madam Pomfrey ushered the two boys impatiently toward the door, but Ron turned back and leaned down to give Hermione a quick kiss. She smiled when he pulled away.

"Go," she told him. "I´m fine."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

At last, Harry and Ron left the hospital wing, made their way wearily back to the common room, and sank into two overstuffed armchairs near the fireplace. After everything that had just happened, Harry didn´t feel like sleeping, and it was obvious that Ron was still too worried to go back to bed just yet.

"I can´t believe I let her get to this point," Ron admonished himself. "Why wasn´t I paying more attention? I should have seen this coming."

"Don´t do that, Ron," Harry replied. "It´s not your fault. You tried your best. Hermione´s stubborn. Maybe now she´ll realize that she needs to take it easy."

"Do you really think she´s okay?" Ron´s face was somber with worry, and his hair stuck up oddly from where he´d been running his fingers through it. "I mean, you don´t think there´s anything wrong with her, do you?"

"She didn´t eat all day, and she hasn´t been sleeping much for weeks," Harry reasoned. "She´d probably been awake for twenty hours straight when she fainted, studying non-stop. It´s really not that surprising that this would happen with the way she´s been going. Madam Pomfrey said so herself."

Ron sighed. "Yeah, I guess you´re probably right." He didn´t sound entirely convinced.

"She´ll be fine, Ron," Harry said, giving his most reassuring smile. "She always is."

They sat in tired silence for a few minutes, and it wasn´t long before Harry found his eyes straying to the globe across the room. In the chaos of everything that had just occurred, the news about the corners of the earth had taken a backseat in his thoughts. But now that he knew Hermione was okay, and he could put that worry out of his mind, it returned front and center.

"So, you overheard us, didn´t you?"

Uh oh.

"Uh...yes," Harry admitted guiltily. He felt badly about eavesdropping. He wasn´t sure why he had done it, and he knew he´d feel even worse lying about it, but for some reason he just couldn´t bring himself to tell the truth. "I, um, woke up and saw that you weren´t in bed, so I came down to look for you."

"In your invisibility cloak?" asked Ron, pointing lazily to the stairs where the cloak was still strewn across the landing.

Damn.

"Well, yeah. My first suspicion was that you were down here with Hermione."

Why am I lying?

"I, er...didn´t want to interrupt anything," Harry said meaningfully. "I wanted to make sure the coast was clear, if you catch my drift."

That shut Ron up.

Why didn´t he want to admit that he had been awake when Hermione had come into their room? Harry didn´t really have a good explanation. All he knew was that he didn´t want Ron to know that he had heard them talking about him, expressing their concern...maybe because that would mean admitting there was something to be concerned about.

But I´m fine. Especially now that-

"She really found them, Harry."

Harry let out his breath. "I know," he said, feeling his stomach leap at the mere mention of it. "I can´t believe it."

"Neither can I." Ron shook his head in disbelief. "I mean, all this time, I kept hoping it was all real, but it just seemed so far-fetched to think we might actually be able to find the corners, and...and...go there. Blimey, Harry," Ron breathed, eyes widening. "Someone might actually be able to go there and find the box and the Carnelian Key..." Ron´s voice trailed off in incredulity.

"And use it against Voldemort, to help bring him down once and for all," Harry finished. The very idea seemed so surreal that every fiber of his brain seemed to buck against the reality of it. How long had he waited for news like this? It felt like a lifetime, and now it was happening. It was too good to be true. It had to be too good to be true.

"Well, what happens now?" Ron asked. "What are we supposed to do next?"

"I...I don´t know. Surely," Harry said, risking a small smile, "Hermione knows?"

Ron huffed. "I´m sure she has a ten scroll list of things in mind that need to be done next. But that doesn´t mean I´m going to be letting her do any of them."

Harry couldn´t help but laugh. "Good luck trying to stop her. She probably has more questions now than ever. And...well, to tell you the truth, I´m pretty anxious to get them answered myself. Like, now that we know where the corners are, how do we go about actually finding them and getting inside? And, how do we find out which corner has the box and the Carnelian Key, and which has the Bloodstone Key? And if by some miracle, we are able to get our hands on these things, what do we do with them? How do we get our chance to use them against Voldemort?"

"Whoa, Firebolt, slow up a little, will you?" Ron requested. He looked as though Harry´s rapid thoughts had assaulted him like a brutal wind. "Can we take one thing at a time, please? Besides, if I know Hermione, the first thing she´ll insist on is that we turn all of this information over to Dumbledore anyway. And if we do that, we´ll be rid of the whole mess and won´t have to worry about it anymore...and actually," Ron said slowly, thinking, "that´s exactly what we should do! Get all of this out of Hermione´s hands and into someone else´s so that she can stop acting like a raging lunatic about it."

"Easier said than done," Harry hypothesized. "Have you ever known Hermione to quit working on something before she´s got every last detail figured out?"

"Well, no. But that´s exactly her problem. She has got to stop being so obsessive."

"Well, we can talk to her about it tomorrow. See if we can convince her."

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

They couldn´t.

"No way," Hermione insisted. "I´m not ready to tell anyone else about this yet. I don´t have it all figured out! I need to keep working."

"No." Ron commanded. His voice left such little room for argument that Hermione halted in her tracks and faced him with a raised eyebrow and an expression that would have made anyone else back away. But not Ron.

"No?" she echoed. "Sorry, did I miss the clause in the girlfriend statute stating that you get to tell me what to do?"

"Did you miss the fact that we just left the hospital wing?" Ron retorted, gesturing down the corridor behind him with an angry wave of his arm. "You are working too hard, Hermione! I am not going to let you keep doing this to yourself!"

"You´re not going to let me?"

"Hermione," Harry calmly interjected, "Ron´s just worried about you. We both are. He´s not trying to order you around. He just wants what´s best for you."

"How can you be so blasé about this, Harry?" Hermione replied, fists clenching as she grew more and more agitated. "You know what this research means. You know that this could-"

"Be the key to defeating Voldemort. Yes, I know that. But Hermione, I´m sure Dumbledore can handle it from here. We´re going to have to tell him eventually anyway, right? If there´s really any hope of someone going out there and trying to find the box and the Carnelian Key, he´s got to send someone to do it."

Hermione just stood her ground, arms folded, until she turned abruptly and began climbing the final staircase to Gryffindor Tower. "Can we talk about this later?" she asked. "I´m tired."

Ron and Harry exchanged a look. There was no way they could argue with that.

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

Later was becoming much later.

Two weeks went by, during which time Hermione scrupulously avoided any conversation about the Carnelian Key and the corners of the earth. It was driving Harry mad; now that he knew that there was truth in the old legend, all he could think about was how they had to do something about it. For five years he had waited to get a leg up on Voldemort, and now that they had it, it made him sick to think it was just lying in secret, untapped, while Voldemort was still out there somewhere, gathering more strength day by day. Ron, for his part, continued to be even more insistent that they turn Hermione´s findings over to Dumbledore. He was keeping a very watchful eye on her workload and was yet to be satisfied that she was taking her health seriously. But Hermione refused to talk about it, and there was nothing they could do without her help; she knew her own research inside out, while there was only so much Harry and Ron understood. So with her promise that she would not overextend herself and that she fully intended to tell Dumbledore about the corners of the earth as soon as she had worked out as many details as possible, they agreed to stop pestering her and let their panic at the impending OWLs distract them instead.

"I´m going to fail," Ron said one evening from the midst of a pile of parchment and books. His eyes were wide and fearful. "I´m going to fail everything, and they´ll kick me out of Hogwarts and...and I´ll have to go live as a Squib somewhere, degnoming gardens for a living, or...or sweeping up dragon dung at some zoo in Romania, where little kids will point at me and laugh, and I´ll have to wear a horrible khaki robe with my name embroidered on the front."

Harry raised his eyes from his book to regard his best friend over his glasses. "Are you on drugs?"

"That´s what they´ll ask me," Ron replied blankly. "They´ll ask me if I´m on drugs. Because only someone who threw their whole life away for a quick thrill would be forced to make a living like that. Only people on drugs, and people who failed all their OWLs."

Harry shifted his eyes to Hermione, who was holding back a smile. "You´re not going to fail everything, Ron," she tried to assure him, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. "You´re better prepared than you think you are. You´ve made loads of progress in the last week alone."

"Hermione," Ron said wildly, "The OWLs start in two weeks and I don´t know what the purpose was behind the Goblin rebellion of 1322! I don´t know how to turn a rabbit into a cat! I don´t know the nineteen uses of Vilsiveus Draught!"

"Vilsadreus Draught," Hermione corrected.

"See?" Ron sank back in his chair, looking defeated. "Oh, God. Mum will disown me. Percy will go around telling people he´s one of six children."

"He will be, if you don´t get a hold of yourself," Harry said flatly, calmly turning the page of his Charms text. "Because if you don´t shut up, I am going to have to kill you."

"Ron, you´re going to be fine," Hermione told him. "All you have to do is prioritize. If you´re honestly worried about failing - which you´re not going to do, by the way - you just need to decide how you can best manage your time so that you are equally prepared for each class. Here," she said, pulling out a spare piece of scrap parchment. "Let´s make a list." Hermione began making a list of numbers on the parchment, stopping at nine. Ron looked on with an unchanged expression; his face was frozen in terror. She glanced at him as she held her quill poised over the parchment, ready to ask him a question, and then did a double take.

"Hey," she said loudly. He turned his head to look at her, and she couldn´t help but laugh. "Really, it will be okay. Look." She pointed to the parchment. "We´re going to make a list of all your classes, in the order you need to study in. I know there are some classes that you´re really fully prepared for already. We won´t spend as much time on those as some of the others."

It was moments like this that Harry was reminded what a wonderful friend Hermione was. She´d been thoroughly annoyed with Ron´s lack of diligence for months, but now that he was panicking, she was there to offer her support and aide. He noted her use of the word "we" in regard to Ron´s studying, and knew that she meant it - she would help him as much as she possibly could, just as she would do for him, Harry, as well.

"Which class do you feel the most confident in right now?" she asked Ron.

"Definitely Care of Magical Creatures," he replied. "Hagrid´s exams are a breeze."

Hermione carefully wrote Care of Magical Creatures next to number nine.

"And what do you feel least confident in, of all your subjects?"

Ron thought about it. "It´s probably a tie between Potions and Divination," he answered. "But put Divination further down the list. If I have to fail one OWL, I wouldn´t mind it being that one. Make it number eight," Ron instructed her.

Harry laughed, but Hermione pursed her lips, writing Divination next to number five. Potions went next to number one.

"All you´ll have to do," Hermione explained as she wrote, "is divide your study hours proportionally amongst all your subjects based on their positions in the list. What should be number two?" she asked him.

"History of Magic," Ron answered.

They continued in this manner, filling in the list, debating more on the subjects that fell at the middle of the list. In the end, they decided he needed to spend the most time on Potions, History of Magic, and Transfiguration, and the least time on Care of Magical Creatures and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Are you sure Defense shouldn´t be higher up?" Ron asked Hermione, eyeing the completed list. "A lot of the theories and concepts we learned this year are really difficult."

"Yes, but half of the exam is dueling," Hermione reminded him. "You´ll get top marks on that part for sure. You and Harry are the best duelers in the class."

"Hey, do you reckon she´ll pair us up together, Harry?" Ron asked, referring to Professor Matlock, their DADA teacher. She had told them that she would be choosing the pairs of duelers based on ability, so that everyone would have a fair chance against their opponents. She had assured the class that they would still be graded on their overall performances, though, and not only on who won or lost. That way, the best duelers were still sure to score the highest.

"I suppose," Harry answered. "She always pairs us up in class."

"No, I don´t think so," Hermione answered. "I heard that she´s going to pair people up out of all her fifth year classes, not just within houses. I don´t think anyone will be paired with anyone from their own house. We´ll each have to face someone new."

"Huh," Ron said. "I wonder who the best duelers are from the other houses?"

"I was talking to Richard Moon from Ravenclaw during our Ancient Runes study group," Hermione said, "and he said that he´s been getting top marks for dueling all term. He and Padma Patil are the two best duelers in Ravenclaw."

"Ugh," Ron said, "I hope I don´t get paired with her! She´d probably try to hex my ears off or something, after how angry she was with me at the Yule Ball last year."

"She should have been angry with you!" Hermione said in a scolding tone, raising her chin. "You were absolutely dreadful to her."

"Only because I was spending so much time looking at you!"

Silence.

"Uh, right," she said at last, leaning over to give Ron a quick kiss on the lips. "Duly noted."

Harry wondered who he would be paired with for the duel. He hadn´t really given it any thought before, just assuming it would be Ron. But he supposed it made sense to pair people up from other houses. That´s what dueling was really about anyway, wasn´t it? Meeting the unexpected, and defeating it?

"I wonder who the best duelers are in Slytherin," Ron said with a scowl as he gathered up all his books and pieces of parchment. "As long as I don´t have to duel with Millicent Bulstrode, I´ll be fine. She would probably just toss her wand aside and sit on me."

"Ron, that´s not a very nice thing to say!" Hermione admonished. Harry thought it was pretty funny. "Anyway, what are you doing?" she asked, indicating Ron´s book bag, which he was shoving all of his things into.

"Going to bed," he answered her. "It´s after eleven o´clock."

Her eyes widened. "Is it? Oh no, I didn´t get through nearly as much as I wanted to tonight!" She straightened up the piles of notes around her, and set back into studying.

Ron reached out and pulled her parchment out from underneath her quill.

"Oh no, you don´t," he said. "Remember your promise."

Ever since Hermione had returned from the hospital wing, Ron had kept such an annoyingly close eye on her work and sleeping habits that eventually she had blown up in exasperation. Finally, they had managed to work out a compromise; Ron would not hound her as long as she promised to go to bed no later than 11:30 each night.

"Ron, really, I have to study. We only have two more weeks. You said it yourself."

Ron crossed his arms.

"Look, just one more hour, all right? I´ll go to bed at 12:30."

"What about all the rubbish you fed me tonight, then? If there are subjects you´re telling me I don´t need to study in, surely there are some you can cross off your list."

"I don´t have a list," she replied. "Besides, I´m going for top marks, aren´t I? I have to master everything."

"You´re insane, you know that? You know you´re going to OWL in every subject, don´t you? That´s eleven OWLs, Hermione. Do you really need bonus ones for getting perfect scores?"

His comment was met with silence, and surprisingly, Hermione blushed and looked away. "I want to set the record," she said in a small voice.

"What? What record?"

"The record for the most OWLs, all right?"

"Truly," Ron answered after a long silence, "you are out of your mind."

"Why?" she asked in annoyance. "It´s possible. Arturius Shipwright set the record in 1897 with only fourteen OWLs. I know I can do better than that. But he was taking twelve classes, and got OWLs in all of them, with two bonus OWLs for perfect scores in Charms and Potions. I´m only taking eleven classes, so to get fifteen OWLs and beat him, I need to get perfect scores on four exams. I can do it!" she insisted, shoving some hair out of her face, "If only you would leave me alone and let me study!"

Harry and Ron just stared at her, bewildered. Harry hadn´t truly realized until this very moment how positively certifiable she was.

"I don´t even know how to begin to approach that," Ron said at last.

"Look," Hermione replied, "this is important to me, all right? And if you can´t understand that, then-"

"Fine!" Ron said, throwing his hands up. "Fine! Never let it be said that I´ve been an unsupportive boyfriend. Study for your fifteen OWLs, then. I´m going to bed."

Without another word, Ron turned and stomped up the stairs. Hermione sighed.

"You really are completely nutters," Harry said neutrally. "You know that."

"Of course," Hermione replied in a flat tone. "But can you just wait to commit me until after exams are over, please?"

Harry couldn´t help but laugh. "Yeah, all right." He gathered up his own books and started to go, then turned back. "Hermione," he said.

"Yes?" she replied, keeping her eyes on her quill, which was flying across a piece of parchment.

"You may be crazy," he said, "But really..."

Harry wasn´t sure why, but he suddenly found himself thinking of Hermione with a whole new level of respect. What she had managed to accomplish this year was amazing, between all her studying and how far she had gotten with the legend of the Carnelian Key. He would have been lost this year without all of her hard work on that, and he knew it. He had no idea how she had managed to do all of that research while still striving to get fifteen OWLs.

"...you´re incredible."

Hermione looked up and a slow smile spread across her face. "Thanks, Harry."

"No really, you are," he said, feeling more words brewing. He knew this probably wasn´t the best time to do this, but he had to. He couldn´t stand it anymore. He sat back down in the seat Ron had vacated and leaned over his knees, bending forward to talk to her earnestly. "Hermione, what you have done this year is nothing short of unbelievable. You have kept at the top of our class in every subject all year, you´ve been studying like mad for the OWLs, trying to set the ruddy record, you´ve been helping Ron and me every step of the way, and you´ve taken a legend that was nothing when we found it and turned it into a way to possibly help defeat the most evil wizard the world has ever seen. You belong in a bloody museum, Hermione."

Hermione regarded him with an unusual expression as he talked. He wasn´t sure what it was, but felt dismayed when he saw tears starting in her eyes. Then he realized - she wasn´t used to being shown such appreciation, especially when she was already feeling so highly emotional, and his words and heartfelt tone must have touched her. He felt horrified that she might start crying in a minute, and equally horrified that he and Ron never really told her how much they appreciated her. He supposed it was because it was so difficult for him to talk about his feelings that he had never really done this before. And admittedly, it wasn´t fun, even now. But Hermione deserved it from him, and it needed to be done.

"But, Hermione," he continued, "you don´t have to do all these things. You realize that, don´t you? None of them make you any more valuable to Ron and me than you already are. And you do know..." Harry wondered if he should say this and risk appearing unsupportive, but he figured it was for her own good. "It almost never happens that someone gets a perfect score on an OWL." He was remembering a conversation he´d had with Percy at the Burrow the previous summer, when Percy had been trying to impress upon Harry the importance of doing well on his exams. The former Head Boy had given Harry a lot more detail about the history of OWL exams than he´d ever wanted to know, but at this moment, the conversation was coming in handy. "If one student gets a perfect score on one OWL each year at Hogwarts, it´s a big deal. It doesn´t usually happen."

"I know that," Hermione broke in, voice catching. The tears would fall any second.

"I know you do, and I´m not saying you can´t do it, or that I wouldn´t be proud of you if you did."

There it went. The first tear slid down Hermione´s cheek.

"But really, why is it so important? Why is everything? You fainted the other day, Hermione. That was real. And it was scary. There is no good reason for you to push yourself that hard. You don´t have to be perfect. You don´t have to do everything all by yourself."

He took a deep breath. He was getting to the point now, the whole reason he had started this conversation...

"I know you´re still working on the details about the corners of the earth," he said. Hermione´s eyes broke away from his. "I know you are because I know you wouldn´t have given up on it, but I haven´t seen you working on it. All I´ve seen you do for the past two weeks is study, so I don´t know if you´ve been lying to Ron and working on it in the middle of the night or what," Hermione turned bright red and looked away with even more determination. Harry knew he had hit the mark. "But Hermione," he reached across the short space between them and took her hand in his, quite awkwardly, but earnestly. "I don´t want to be making another trip to the hospital wing with you. I don´t want to watch you drive yourself mad over something for absolutely no reason."

Hermione sniffed, and choked on a sob.

"Hermione, please," he said, squeezing her hand, "please tell Dumbledore about the legend."

She was crying openly now, and Harry´s heart constricted. Ron would kill him if he knew he was making her cry, Harry thought wryly. Though he knew Ron would agree with everything he was saying.

"I don´t really know why you haven´t already. It´s not like you to not insist on telling Dumbledore everything." He said this with a slight smile, and Hermione laughed despite herself. "But you´ve done so much with it already, you deserve to get it off your shoulders. And you have to admit, the only way all of it will be of any use anyway is if Dumbledore puts together a group from the Council to go there, and find the corners, and get inside so they can get the box and keys. The Summer Solstice is only three weeks away. They´ll need time to learn everything from you and to get prepared. If they miss this chance, they´ll have to wait a whole year, Hermione. What if this northern corner has the box and the Carnelian Key, huh? That´s a chance to defeat Voldemort."

Hermione sniffed again, fighting to hold back sobs.

Watching her and hearing his own words, Harry felt a little guilty. But he´d come this far, so, gripping her hand tightly, he went in for the clincher.

"Please, Hermione. Please don´t make me wait any longer for this."

At that, a sob broke through, and Hermione lifted her hand to her face, trying to catch her tears with the back of her hand before they could fall. Harry reached out and pulled her into a hug, and she sobbed into his shoulder, letting out all her exhaustion and tension; Harry could feel it leave her body as she sank against him.

"I - I´m sorry," she choked.

"For what?"

"For everything," she cried. "For making you worry. For not figuring it all out sooner. For not figuring it all out period. I tried so hard." She hiccupped as she pulled away to look at him. "I tried so hard, but you´re right. I can´t do anything more. I don´t know how to find the entrance to the corner, I don´t know how to get in, or how to get out, I don´t know how..." she trailed off.

"It´s okay," he told her. "It´s okay, Hermione."

She hiccupped again, fighting to gain control of the sobs, and at last replied with, "Really?"

"Yes," Harry laughed. "Yes, it´s okay. Dumbledore will know what to do. You´ve brought it so far, Hermione. And I appreciate it so much, I can´t even tell you. But it´s time to pass it along."

She nodded, wiping at her face. "Okay. Let´s tell Dumbledore tomorrow."

Harry grinned. "Good. Now," he said, sitting back in his chair. "I can´t let you go to bed crying. Ron would kill me."

Hermione let out a chuckle. "That he would," she muttered.

"So are you going to be all right?"

"Yes," she told him, brushing away the last of her tears. Then, "Thank you, Harry."

"For making you cry?" he asked with a smile.

"No," she said, a little cheekily. "Just...for everything you said."

"You´re welcome," Harry replied, feeling a little embarrassed to have opened up so much now that it was all said and done. But he was glad that he had told her the things she needed to hear. "Now, go to bed!"

Even now, he wasn´t sure she´d agree, but she must have been too exhausted and out of studying mode now to argue, because she rose with him, and they parted on the stairs, each feeling a certain measure of relief.

Dumbledore will know what to do,Harry repeated in his head as he entered his dorm room to tell Ron the good news. He always does.

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

The next day, Harry´s heart leapt with anxiety every time he thought about the legend and everything they were planning to tell Dumbledore that evening. How would Dumbledore react, Harry wondered? Surely he would be eager to use this information, wouldn´t he? Surely he would send some of his best men to the northern corner on the twentieth of June, or maybe he´d even go himself. Surely he would be able to figure out where exactly the corner was and how to get inside...wouldn´t he?

"Don´t forget," Professor Sprout announced at the end of her lesson that afternoon, "Eighteen inches on the growth patterns of Silvan ferns! Due Thursday!" She called the assignment after the students, who were all crowding to get out the door of the greenhouse. "This material will be on your OWL exam!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled together as they hurried across the lawn and inside for dinner.

"Have you got all the information, Hermione?" Harry asked.

She nodded, pulling out a thick roll of parchment from her bag. "Right here," she said, somewhat despondently. "I´ve collected all my notes and organized them as much as possible. I also have the book that I found the original legend in, the book that talks about the corners being accessible on the longest day of the year, and the maps that show the star webs that represent each of the three universal qualities." She sighed as she tucked the roll under her arm. "I reckon we should go to Dumbledore´s office right after dinner. It could take a while to catch him up."

"Hey," Ron said, halting. "You´re not chickening out are you?"

Hermione shot him an annoyed look. "No, I´m not chickening out. It´s just...well, I´ve put a lot of work into this, since before Christmas. It´s hard to just turn it all over and cut myself off from the whole thing."

Harry understood how it felt to be cut off.

"But there´s nothing else you can do!" Ron replied.

"I know that," she said shortly.

Dinner seemed to progress at an agonizingly slow rate that evening. Harry kept looking at Dumbledore, up at the head table, and hoping he´d be going straight to his office after dinner. Ron suggested just going up to the head table and telling him they needed to talk to him, but Hermione refused, saying that they shouldn´t draw any attention to the fact that they needed to see the Headmaster.

At last, after what seemed like hours, people started to leave the Great Hall, and Harry saw Dumbledore exit through a side door behind the teachers´ table.

"Let´s go," he told his friends.

They slipped quickly out of the Great Hall with everyone else and parted from their housemates on the third floor, heading down a side corridor.

"Oy!" Fred Weasley called after them. "Where are you three going?"

"Owlery," Hermione called lightly over her shoulder. Harry let out a breath. Thankfully, this wasn´t a lie; Hermione had told them she wanted to stop at the Owlery before they went to see Dumbledore so that she could send a letter off to her parents. She hadn´t heard any news from them in nearly a week regarding the investigation into the break-in at their house, and she had written a letter to ask them if there were any updates.

"Oh, great!" Fred replied, walking toward them and reaching into a pocket of his robe. He pulled out an envelope.

"Oh no!" Ron hissed. "He´s going to want to come with us!"

The trio exchanged looks of trepidation as Fred drew nearer. Harry knew his friends were thinking the same thing he was. How would they lose Fred between the Owlery and Dumbledore´s office without raising any suspicion?

"Would you mind sending this off for me?" Fred asked, handing the envelope to Ron.

All three of them let out a breath of relief.

"Yeah, okay," Ron said, taking it. "What is it?"

"A letter to Mum asking her to stop sending George and me letters," he said with a roll of his eyes. They all looked at him questioningly. "She´s been writing almost every day. Seems to think we´re not taking our NEWTs seriously. Don´t know where she´d get an idea like that."

"Fred!" George called from the end of the corridor. "Come on! Lee´s starting up a pepper imps fire breathing contest!"

"Yeah, don´t know where she´d get an idea like that," Ron echoed.

"Well, gotta go," Fred told them. "Thanks!"

"You really should be studying!" Hermione called after him. She sighed heavily. "Come on," she told Ron and Harry.

"Wonder why Mum hasn´t been sending me letters, hounding me about the OWLs?" Ron asked as they climbed the tall spiral staircase to the Owlery a few minutes later.

"I reckon because she´s not worried about it," Hermione told him. "See? Your Mum doesn´t think you´re going to fail."

"Hmmm," was Ron´s only reply, but he was wearing a smug grin as they quickly went about their tasks in the Owlery. Ron sent Fred´s letter off with Pig, while Harry let Hermione borrow Hedwig. He hadn´t had any jobs for her lately, and he knew she´d be eager to stretch her wings in a long flight. The two owls swooped out of the window together, Pig fluttering and twittering behind Hedwig, trying to keep up, while Hedwig pointedly ignored him, flapping her wings gracefully and smoothly.

At last they set off to see Dumbledore. Harry´s heart began pounding more heavily with every step they took. This wasn´t just a casual visit, the thumping in his chest reminded him. They were about to hand Dumbledore the key - almost literally - that could lead to the beginning of Voldemort´s defeat...Harry couldn´t believe it was happening. They traversed the staircases and corridors in silence, each lost in thought and anticipation, until Hermione came to a sudden stop in front of Harry and Ron, holding her arms out to halt them as well.

"What are you-" Ron began.

"Shhh!" she hissed sharply. "Listen."

Harry stopped and listened, but didn´t hear anything.

"Who is that?" Ron whispered.

"I don´t hear anything," Harry answered.

"It´s a voice," Ron said.

"Shhh!" Hermione repeated.

They stood still for a long moment, straining their ears, until at last Harry heard it. It was a voice, and it sounded like-

"Snape!" Ron said, eyes wide. "What´s he doing here?"

Hermione silently motioned for them to follow her, and they crept around a corner, coming into a dark and narrow corridor. It was short, with no doors on either side, and it turned sharply to the right, where it came out into a small, round space like the top of a stairwell. Only there were no stairs, just one lone door, leading off the small chamber into a room none of them had ever seen before. The door was slightly ajar, and the light inside appeared a strange reddish-orange, as if the room was lit only by flames. Hermione crept closer, peeking through the opening. She crouched down and Ron and Harry came up behind her, looking in over her head.

To their great surprise, they saw that Dumbledore was inside, standing before a great fireplace, speaking into the flames. And now they knew why they´d heard Snape´s voice; his head was sitting in the middle of the fire.

"I thank you for coming, Severus," Dumbledore spoke. "I will not ask you where you are, but I trust that you are safe and well?"

"I am," Snape answered. "Everything is going according to plan."

Harry peered at Snape carefully. He certainly looked safe and well, or as well as Harry had ever seen him anyway. His skin had its usual sallow pallor and his hair was as greasy as ever, but he looked perfectly normal, as far as Harry could tell. He certainly didn´t look like he was roughing it in any way.

"Good, good," Dumbledore replied. His tone seemed very serious. "We don´t have much time Severus, as I don´t want to keep you, but I do have something very important to update you on."

Harry´s ears perked up immediately. Was something going on with the Council?

"I will be convening a meeting of all our supporters in a few short weeks, and I would like you to be in attendance, if at all possible. It will not be here at Hogwarts, as I do not want anyone to be seen near this vicinity if we can possibly help it."

Harry felt his brow crease. This sounded serious. Dumbledore hadn´t had any qualms about calling the Council to meet at Hogwarts the last time. Was the school somehow in danger?

"Where do I need to report, Headmaster?"

"We do not have a confirmed location yet, but I will let you know just as soon as we do. In the meantime, I want you to make whatever arrangements you can to be present. I´m afraid we´re going to need as many minds together on this matter as possible."

Slowly, fear began creeping up around Harry´s heart. He felt cold.

"Why? What have you learned?" Snape´s face was drawn with interest and worry.

"It has come to my attention through one of our spies that Voldemort has set a major plan into motion. It appears that he rather fancies the idea of celebrating his own re-birthday." Dumbledore´s voice was extremely grim. "He has set that day as the day to make his reappearance."

Snape sucked in a breath, and Harry felt his own breathing growing rapid. Ron turned his head to look at Harry, but Harry couldn´t meet his eyes. Still, he could read his best friend´s expression out of the corner of his eye; they were only inches apart, and every fiber in Ron´s face spoke of fear. Beneath him, Harry felt Hermione shift, and her hand came back to touch his leg, closing around his ankle.

"June 24^th," Snape said, "that´s four weeks away. What can we do?"

"I do not have an answer for that yet, Severus. We must work quickly, however. We cannot waste a single moment. I´ve managed to place our spy in a very strategic position, and he is prepared to pass along every bit of information that he learns. At this point, all he has told us is that Voldemort plans to summon all his Death Eaters to him the night of the eighteenth, to give them instructions, presumably. If all goes as planned, our mole will be present and will be able to bring us a full report the next day."

Harry´s mind raced. Who could be this mole? Who would be able to infiltrate Voldemort´s circle besides Snape? It would have to be someone who had worked very quickly to gain Voldemort´s trust, or else...it would have to be someone who could make themselves present without being noticed...someone like an animagus...a dog, perhaps...

Immediately, Harry´s eyes began to sting, though he didn´t notice. "Sirius," he whispered, not even intending to speak. Harry felt Hermione´s hand leave his leg, and a moment later, he felt it slip into his, squeezing tightly.

"We will have to meet immediately afterwards," Dumbledore said. "Our time will be extremely limited. We will convene at midnight on the night of the nineteenth, the morning of the twentieth."

Snape nodded. "I will be there."

"I do not want you taking any risks, Severus. Only come if you can manage it without drawing any attention to yourself."

"I will be there, sir," Snape repeated. He sounded resolute, and Harry almost found himself looking at the Potions master with admiration. Almost.

"I hope that you will be."

Suddenly, Snape snapped his head back, looking over his shoulder into whatever room he was presumably using the fireplace in. Dumbledore stepped forward, gripping the mantle tightly with one hand.

"Go!" the Headmaster said urgently, and just like that, Snape´s head vanished from the flames.

Hermione was on her feet immediately, trying to back away from the door, but Harry stood in her way. He didn´t think he could move. He felt numb all over.

Hermione and Ron didn´t say anything, but their faces spoke volumes. Come on, they were urging him. He´ll be coming out any minute! Hermione pushed Harry back, and Ron grabbed onto his arm, pulling him away from the door. They heard Dumbledore moving around inside the room; they had to hurry if they were going to get away undiscovered. Both of his friends tugged him away and back down the narrow corridor into brighter light. They only just managed to duck around another corner before Dumbledore came behind them, moving swiftly down the main corridor toward the marble staircase. Vaguely, Harry realized that he was not heading in the direction of his own office. Their visit would have to wait; Dumbledore had more important things to attend to now.

But then reality crashed into Harry like a ferocious wave. More important things? Their information was important, now more than ever! If Voldemort really was planning to emerge on the 24^th, they simply had to go to the northern corner and pray that the box and Carnelian Key were inside...they just had to...

"Harry?" Ron was saying. "Hey, calm down."

What? Harry wondered absently. Calm down from what? And then he realized why he was feeling sharp pains in his chest that he hadn´t even noticed up till then; he was hyperventilating.

"We need to sit him down," Ron said.

"No, he needs air," Hermione disagreed, tugging at him. "Come on, Harry." She pulled him along, heading down the corridor in the opposite direction until they came to a narrow staircase. They ascended it quickly and burst through the door at the top. Harry felt fresh air wash over him as they stepped outside; they were at the top of the Astronomy Tower. And then his legs gave out, and he was sitting on the cement.

"It´s happening," he heard himself say, but his voice didn´t sound like his own at all.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, wrapping her arms around him. He couldn´t hug her back. His arms felt like concrete.

"What do we do now?" Ron asked. His face was set like stone now, but his eyes betrayed his fear. "What do you think is going to happen?"

"I don´t know," Harry said breathlessly, still trying to gain control of his lungs as Hermione pulled back. "But someone definitely needs to find the northern corner now. We´re running out of time." Harry´s brain felt like someone had stuffed it into a blender and spun it into mush. He couldn´t think straight. What would Voldemort do? What was his plan? Was he somehow going to try to get to him? Were things set in motion already?

"But didn´t you hear what Dumbledore said?" Hermione asked. "The Council is meeting on the twentieth. That´s the Summer Solstice! He said he needs everyone there and that they can´t waste any time. He won´t be able to spare anyone."

"He has to spare someone!" Harry shouted. "He has to! This is our only chance! Voldemort´s going to show himself four days later! Who knows what he has planned? And Dumbledore said himself that he doesn´t know what they can do...oh...God..." Harry found himself trailing off and he suddenly didn´t think he could hold up his own head. He dropped it into his hands and heard an anguished noise come out of himself.

"Then do we still tell him?" Ron wanted to know. "What do we do? Harry´s right, someone has to go. This could be our side´s only chance to gain some leverage."

"But what if..." Hermione´s eyes grew clouded. "What if all of my research is really just...wrong? What if they can´t figure out how to get in, or they can´t find the Key, and they end up wasting someone´s time on it, when really, Dumbledore needs everyone to be focused on what they´re going to do to head Voldemort off? What if it´s a mistake?"

"And what if it´s not, Hermione?" Harry lifted his head, and heard the ferocity in his own voice. "Huh? What if it´s not? You know it´s not. You´ve done all the work on it. You´ve pushed and pushed all year to find the corners; you made yourself sick over it! Why are you doubting it now? Someone has to go. Damn it," he muttered under his breath, "I´ll go if I bloody have to."

Even as he said the words, it was like someone had plunged them into a vacuum. The air seemed to grow still and no one breathed.

"Yes," Harry said a moment later. "Why not? It´s not that far away, only forty miles." He looked searchingly at his friends. "I could fly that on my Firebolt in two hours."

"No way, Harry," Ron said fiercely. "That´s insane."

"Why?" he asked, thinking. "Why is it? I already know everything there is to know about the legend. I know it better than anyone could learn it in three weeks time. It´s not far away, I could go quickly, and be back in no time. I won´t get caught; I´ll wear my dad´s cloak, and we won´t risk distracting Dumbledore or any of his people from what they really need to be focusing on, which is finding out what Voldemort is going to do. If I find the box and the Carnelian Key, I´ll hand it right over to Dumbledore when I get back, and hopefully someone will get a chance to use it."

"You´ll get expelled, Harry," Hermione said.

"So what?" Harry asked wildly. "Don´t you see? He´s coming back. In four fucking weeks, Hermione! Who knows what he has planned? There might not even be a Hogwarts to get expelled from." He looked between his friends, whose eyes were wide with worry and terror, and he knew his own probably looked the same. But somehow, he knew he had to do this. They could not afford to mess up this chance. They had to let Dumbledore focus the Council´s time and energy on finding out Voldemort´s plan, and...well, finally he felt like he had a chance to do something to help...he could not just walk away from this, not now.

"Do not try to argue with me," he said firmly. He had made up his mind. "I am going to do this."

"Well, all right," Hermione said, letting out her breath. "I´ll have to get to work right away, and see if I can figure out more about how to find the corner."

"What?" Ron asked, aghast. "Hermione, I don´t believe you! You´re going to agree to this? You´re actually willing to let Harry fly off into the mountains and get himself lost in some alternate dimension? When Voldemort is on the move? Are you crazy?" He looked between Harry and Hermione madly. "What´s happened to you two? Since when am I the one with all the brains? This is insane. Harry, you cannot leave the castle. You know better than this."

Despite the entirely inappropriate timing for it, Harry actually laughed. "Pull yourself together, Ron," he said. "You´re beginning to sound like Sirius."

"Am I?" Ron retorted. "And what do you think he would think of this plan, huh? I´m pretty sure he wouldn´t be too crazy about it."

"Well, he wouldn´t be one to talk, now would he?" Harry asked sharply.

At that, Ron grew silent. No one spoke again for several seconds. Ron seemed to be contemplating his next words carefully, and then at last, he sighed.

"Well if you´re going to insist on being a bloody idiot, you´re not going to do it alone, that´s for sure." He moved closer to Harry and put his hand on his shoulder. "If you think you´re going to give me the slip at the old broom shed, you really are out of your mind."

With a mirthless laugh, Harry shrugged Ron´s hand off his shoulder and started to get to his feet. "Yeah, right," he said. "You´re not going anywhere."

"Whoa, what?" Ron demanded. He reached out his hand and shoved Harry back to the floor. "What are you talking about? Do you really think I´m going to let you go out there by yourself?"

"I think," Harry said angrily, trying to rise again. This time he made it onto his feet. "That I´m not going to let you put yourself in danger unnecessarily."

"Oh that´s rich, coming from you, Potter," Ron spat back. "It´s fine for you to go out there into who knows what kind of danger, but I can´t go with you to watch your sorry back? You´re out of your mind."

"Why should I let you do that?" Harry cried.

"Because you´re my best friend, damn it!" Ron yelled. "And I´m not letting you go it alone!"

Harry´s rapidly tumbling thoughts slammed to a standstill as if he´d hit a brick wall.

Why would you do that? Harry´s mind was suddenly flooded with the memory of Lissanne Radcliffe, the Australian woman whose life had once been saved by Sirius and his own dad. She had asked Sirius that question. Why would you put your life on the line like that if it wasn´t your job? And then Sirius had answered:

Because I couldn´t let him go it alone.

"Fine," Harry said, quietly. He felt tapped. He had no argument for that. "Fine. We´ll go together."

"Well, of course we will," Hermione spoke up, sounding very matter-of-fact. Both of their heads snapped to her. Harry had almost forgotten she was there.

"No way!" Harry and Ron said in unison.

"Oh, excuse me," she said, coming over to join them with her hands on her hips. "It´s fine for you two to go out there but I have to stay here like some dutiful little housewife? Please. Anyway, I´d like you to tell me just how you plan on getting inside the corner without me. The locations are marked in ancient runes, remember? Have either of you taken the Study of Ancient Runes?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

"That´s right, you haven´t. You two probably wouldn´t recognize an ancient rune if it reached out and bit you. And what if you have to translate them to get inside? What then?"

Ron´s face seemed to indicate that he´d now officially heard too much. "This is surreal," he muttered. "This is not happening." Then, to Hermione he said, "Fine!" He threw up his arms. "Fine! Why shouldn´t we all go? Why shouldn´t we take the whole bloody student body with us while we´re at it? Round up the pets too. Don´t forget Crookshanks." With that, he walked away, heaving open the huge door to the staircase, and starting down it. Harry and Hermione could hear him muttering to himself as he went.

"Do you think he´s going to end up in an asylum because of me someday?" Harry asked Hermione with a sideways look.

She sighed. "Only if I don´t put him there first."

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

The next few weeks passed both far too slowly and entirely too quickly. With each day that went by, Harry felt tension settle into his bones with an ever tightening grip. He dreaded the coming of June 24^th with every ounce of his being, but at the same time, the Solstice couldn´t come quickly enough. The hours passed one by one, and Harry felt like he´d already entered an alternate dimension. Everything that had composed his existence mere weeks ago was now changed. The OWLs seemed like the least important thing on the earth, and to sit around watching his housemates studying (even Fred and George had finally cracked a book) was like watching a different universe through a television camera.

Hermione had set to work immediately, rushing to figure out any final details about the corner that she could. She didn´t have much success. All she´d managed to do was pinpoint the location of the corner within one square mile, using some very complicated Arithmancy formulas and astronomical theories. But even one square mile was a huge area to search, she reminded them, but that was the best she could do. There was really nothing else to figure out until they could actually go there, she said, as she had no way to know how or where the runes would appear. And until they knew that, they wouldn´t know anything about how to enter the corner.

So once she´d admitted there was nothing else she could do, there was nothing for them to do but to wait. They tried to study for their exams, but all of their efforts were half-hearted. Harry couldn´t help but think that their OWLs could turn out to be meaningless in the end anyway, depending on what Voldemort had up his sleeve. Even Hermione had lost her focus; she had not mentioned her desire to set the record for the most OWLs again.

Most of the time, Harry found himself worrying. He worried about what would happen if they couldn´t find the corner. He worried about what would happen if they did find it, but it only contained the Bloodstone Key. He worried about Voldemort´s return, and who might be placed in harm´s way, and if Voldemort´s plan contained some kind of scheme to get to him, but most of all...he worried about Sirius. He wasn´t entirely sure that Sirius was the spy Dumbledore had mentioned, but whichever way he tried to rationalize it, it was the only thing that made sense. On the last day of classes, Harry finally caved and sent an owl to his godfather. He hadn´t heard from him in several weeks, since before Harry had learned about Voldemort´s plan, and Harry couldn´t take the silence any longer. He simply had to get in contact with Sirius. In his letter, he avoided any specific mention of what he had overheard, and said only that he was worried about him since it had been so long since he´d had an owl, and asked Sirius to owl him back as soon as possible with any news.

Several times, Harry had to fight off the urge to go to Dumbledore and ask to be filled in on what was going on. Honestly, he was a little surprised that Dumbledore hadn´t warned him about Voldemort´s impending return. But then again, was he really in any more danger than anyone else at this point? Their entire world was likely to be turned on its head in just a few short weeks. What good would it do to incite Harry´s fear, Dumbledore probably thought, when there was nothing for him to do but to wait and wonder? But even understanding this, it was driving Harry mad to watch Dumbledore each day, expertly carrying on like nothing was amiss whatsoever. But in the end, he refrained from going to him. For one thing, he was afraid he would let something slip about his own plan, and he knew he couldn´t afford to do that. But more so, he was scared of what Dumbledore would say; he really didn´t think he could handle hearing that the Council had learned nothing and didn´t know what to do.

So, he just waited.

On the tenth of June, the OWLs began. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat through their first exam, Astronomy, which Harry thought was pretty ironic. He answered the questions as best he could, and when it was over, really didn´t think he´d done too badly. But it was unsettling, to be taking OWLs and not be feeling any stress over them, or any excitement at doing well, or anything at all. It was even worse yet to see Hermione approach the exams in almost the same way. She had managed to keep up with her studying better than Harry and Ron had, but still, she seemed disturbingly indifferent to the whole matter now. And it was that, more than anything, that kept Harry reminded of what they were facing in the days ahead.

It was with this same numbness that they passed the next week and a half. They took one exam after another, watching as their classmates panicked, then rejoiced afterwards when they thought they´d done well, or sulked when they feared the worst. But each day just passed in a blur for Harry. He couldn´t even recall when it had been that he´d received his reply from Sirius, which had served only to make him worry more. The letter had been extremely brief, saying only that Sirius was fine, but was keeping busy. He said he had nothing new to report to Harry, but told him to be careful and wished him good luck on his OWLs. It made Harry crazy to get such an empty response, though he wasn´t sure what he´d really expected Sirius to tell him. Yes, Harry, I plan to be seeing the Dark Lord and dozens of his most evil supporters in a few days, but don´t you worry yourself over it. Not likely.

As the end of the OWLs drew nearer, Harry, Ron, and Hermione began to discuss their plans for the night of the nineteenth. The Solstice was on the twentieth, and they had decided they needed as much time as possible, so they were planning to leave at midnight. They figured that was the earliest they´d be able to get away; the nineteenth was the last day of exams, and they knew everyone would be staying up late to celebrate. On the other hand, this also delivered the promise that everyone would be sleeping in late the next day, which could prove a welcome help. The trio was hoping that, if all went exceedingly well, they´d be able to leave once everyone was asleep and be back before anyone woke up. Harry couldn´t help but think this was an ambitious expectation, but he was trying to hope for the best. If they didn´t manage to be back in their beds by morning, they guessed that they would have several hours before anyone would start wondering where they were. Presumably, everyone would just assume the three of them had risen early and were off on the grounds someplace, enjoying the weather, or were elsewhere in the castle. They guessed that it wouldn´t be until lunchtime that their absence would truly be noted, if they didn´t appear for the meal in the Great Hall.

But Harry tried hard not to think too much about that. They would go to the corner, they would find the box and the Carnelian Key, and they would be back before sunrise.

This is what he repeated over and over in his head all day on the nineteenth of June.

He awoke that morning before the sun had even risen, after a night of fitful sleep. He´d barely closed his eyes all night, and when he had, all he´d seen behind his eyelids were Voldemort´s fiery red eyes staring back at him, dancing with malice and cruelty. He was glad when the sun rose at last. He rose early, dressing silently and creeping out of the dorm room. He went down to the common room and charmed up a fire, then sat across from it, watching the flames. He was reminded of another time he had done this, many months ago, after he´d had a conversation with Sirius and Remus through the fire. It seemed like a lifetime ago. They had talked to him that day about how he needed to protect himself from Voldemort, giving him advice, telling him what potions he should make and what curses he should research. They had instructed him to create two portkeys and to keep them on him at all times, charming his robes to conceal them. Absently, Harry´s hand closed over one of his pockets, and he could feel the portkeys through the heavy fabric.

And then his hand brushed against something else; he reached into his pocket and withdrew it. It was the dagger Sirius had given him, complete with red dragonhide sheath. For the first time since the day he´d received it, Harry slipped it out of the casing and examined the blade. It gleamed like fire and ice in the dancing light of the flames, and for a moment, Harry felt like the world was spinning madly around him. The object felt so foreign in his hand, and he couldn´t help but feel that this was what everything would be like from now on, once Voldemort returned for real. Foreign and wrong and twisted and sick. This wasn´t what life was supposed to be like. Fifteen-year-olds weren´t supposed to carry deadly weapons around with them.

"Harry?"

Harry was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of his own name. He turned to see Ron standing at the bottom of the stairs, wearing his dressing gown and a concerned expression.

This had happened last time too; Ron had walked in on him holding the knife and staring at the fire. And like last time, Harry re-sheathed the blade and concealed it in his robes before Ron could notice it.

"Hi," he replied.

Ron came down the last few steps and came to stand beside the sofa. "Are you all right?" His voice was low and solemn.

"Sure," Harry said. "You?"

"Yeah. I woke up and you were gone."

"I came down here to think."

"I don´t think I can think anymore."

"Yeah, me neither."

So Ron sat down next to Harry, and they didn´t move or speak for hours. At last, when their housemates began to fill up the room, Ron disappeared upstairs to get ready for their last exam, Defense Against the Dark Arts. A short time later, he, Harry, and Hermione headed off to take their final OWL together.

The exam consisted of two parts, a written portion, and the dueling portion. The written portion was to take place first, with the duels scheduled in fifteen minute increments that afternoon. Harry wrote his answers absently, finding that he didn´t much care what the primary principle was behind the thirteen curses of magical impairment, or how many tries it had taken the Greek Charms master Nikolas Kostourous to master the creation of a curse shield.

After they´d finished the written portion of the exam, Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated to the peace of the lakeside lawn to pass the hours until their duels. Harry´s stomach felt like it was in knots, and he found himself wishing his anxiety was due only to his impending duel, and that afterwards he would feel blissful and free, another year at Hogwarts under his belt. But of course, he knew he wouldn´t.

Ron´s duel was first. He left his friends beside the lake at 1:30 and returned later, mumbling that he´d done well against Sunny Shyndaisy from Hufflepuff. The minutes seemed to pass by unnoticed, yet each seemed to contain its own eternity. Finally, at 3:00, the trio headed indoors. Ron was returning to the common room while Hermione and Harry headed back to the DADA classroom. Their duels were back to back, at 3:15 and 3:30; Hermione was scheduled first.

While Hermione disappeared into the classroom with Richard Moon of Ravenclaw, Harry vaguely wondered who his dueling partner would be. He was the only one hanging around outside the classroom at the moment, though he reckoned his partner would be showing up shortly. He wondered if it would be Padma; presumably, Ron had been matched with the best dueler in Hufflepuff, and now Hermione was squaring off against one of the two best in Ravenclaw. As he waited, he could hear Hermione shouting various curses from behind the classroom door, and Richard returning some of his own. He hoped Hermione was faring all right. It certainly sounded like she was holding her own. After a few minutes, Harry heard footsteps approaching, and rose from his seat on the floor to greet the person properly. If they were going to be throwing hexes at each other in a few minutes, it couldn´t hurt to be nice to his partner before they headed inside.

But to Harry´s surprise, it was Ron who rounded the corner.

"Hey," he said to Harry. He had his hands stuffed into his pockets, and he kicked at a loose piece of stone in the floor. "I decided I didn´t want to wait in the common room all by myself."

Harry gave him a rueful smile.

"Thought I´d come and see how Hermione did in her duel."

"Sounds like she´s not doing too badly," Harry told him.

After only a few moments, the classroom door opened and Hermione and Richard emerged, breathless, but looking no worse for wear. Richard was wearing a broad grin and shook Hermione´s hand before he turned down the corridor.

"Great duel, Hermione," he told her. "I reckon we both scored pretty highly."

"I think so," Hermione said, returning his smile.

"Well, good luck, Harry," the Ravenclaw told him as he passed. "And come down to the lake when you´re finished. All the fifth-years are gathering down there to celebrate the end of exams."

Harry had a feeling they wouldn´t be joining any celebrations that day, especially after having spent most of the day at the lake already, but he smiled at Richard anyway. "Thanks, we will."

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn´t feel like waiting for you alone," he answered. "Will you, um...will you come with me? There´s something I want to do."

Hermione´s expression grew puzzled, and she looked to Harry, who just shrugged.

"Yes, sure," she told him. "Good luck, Harry. We´ll see you in the common room a bit later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"We´ll be there soon," Ron told him, taking Hermione´s hand. The two of them left, and Harry found himself alone in the corridor.

"Harry?" Professor Matlock had poked her head out of the classroom door. "You can come on in, if you´d like. Your partner should be here any minute."

Harry went into the classroom, shrugging out of his robe, which he tossed over a desk chair. He began rolling up his sleeves automatically, in preparation for the duel.

"So last exam, eh?" his professor asked him.

"Yeah."

"You must be pretty excited. OWLs are hell," she laughed, and then her hand went to her mouth. "Um, I mean, they´re quite a challenge."

Harry cracked a smile. "Yeah, they´ve not been too fun."

"Is there a big party planned for this evening? You planning to celebrate?"

Celebrate is not what I would call what I plan to do this evening. "Um, maybe."

"Oh!" Professor Matlock said, pointing behind Harry toward the door. "Here´s your partner."

Harry turned and promptly froze in place. His partner did the same, wearing a blatant scowl.

"You´re right on time, Mr. Malfoy," Professor Matlock said with a smile. "Come on over here, now, and get into position. Say hello to Mr. Potter."

Both boys took their positions on the dueling floor; Harry hoped the daggers he was shooting with his eyes were just as sharp as the ones he was getting in return. Of all the rotten luck. He would have to spend the last ten minutes of his OWLs looking at this smarmy git´s face.

"Potter," Malfoy growled, obeying their professor´s request. He pushed his sleeves up with a cocky flourish, wearing his trademark condescending smirk.

"Malfoy," Harry heard himself return. Did you owl your father to tell him you´re almost done with your exams? Did you tell him you´re the best dueler in your class? Harry withdrew his wand and spun it around in his hand, then gripped it tightly by the handle. What´s he up to these days? Groveling at the feet of the Dark Lord? Getting ready to do his dirty work?

"Very good now," Professor Matlock said. "Just bow to one another and get your wands into position."

Malfoy´s eyes burned with hatred as they bored into Harry´s. He lifted his wand over his head; Harry did the same.

Has your father told you all about his big plans? Are you just bursting with excitement? Are you hoping it´s just around the corner? The day he´ll bring you to Voldemort? Will you smile behind your screams when he burns the Dark Mark into your skin?

Harry didn´t even hear their professor give the countdown. He only knew the duel had begun when Malfoy shouted his first curse, a particularly nasty one that would have had Harry´s skin feeling like it was being eaten by acid if he hadn´t blasted it out of the air with his own wand. It took Harry a few minutes to get settled, managing only to dodge, block, or deflect Malfoy´s curses until the initial shock and disgust at being paired with him began to fade into an intense battle mode. After a few minutes, he felt his well-practiced skills taking control of his wand, and his brain began turning out the most advanced and dangerous curses he thought he could get away with.

Not that it really mattered. Malfoy was an expert dueler. Not a single curse got by him.

Been having private tutoring on holidays? Harry thought fiercely, sending a particularly vicious blast of electricity out of his wand. Is your dad teaching you everything he knows? Malfoy reversed Harry´s curse; Harry ducked and it fizzled out as it encountered the protection shield Professor Matlock had conjured up to protect the walls. She had put it there because of him and Ron, Harry recalled with a smug grin. When their intense exchanges had begun to make bricks fall out of the walls, she had thought it a good idea to put up a protective barrier.

They dueled for what seemed like hours. Not a single curse made contact with either boy, and even with as much adrenaline running through his veins as there surely was, Harry felt himself growing tired. Each attempt he threw out became slower and less powerful until he began to fear Malfoy might get the better of him. The Slytherin didn´t seem to be wearying at all. Harry didn´t think he stood a chance to disarm him, and just as he began to feel certain that Malfoy would win, Professor Matlock blew sharply on a whistle.

"That´s enough, boys," she said. "You can stop now."

Harry´s last curse was still zooming through the air. Malfoy leapt to the side and the curse died at the wall. Malfoy´s glare at Harry was venomous; the one he shot at their teacher even more so. Apparently, he didn´t take well to settling for a draw. But Professor Matlock didn´t seem to take notice of the malice directed toward her. She was wearing a wide grin that extended all the way to her huge, round eyes, which were dancing with delight.

"Wonderful!" she told them. "Simply wonderful. Excellent work, and a fabulous way to end your exams. You should be proud. And I can safely say that neither of you should be worried about your marks."

"Well, I should hope not," Malfoy said sharply. "Are we finished here?" he was already fastening his robe back up. He straightened it haughtily, then ran his hands carefully over his hair, returning each platinum strand to its rightful place.

"Yes," Professor Matlock told him, her tone finally hinting of disapproval. "You can go."

Without another word, Malfoy turned and stalked from the room. Shaking his head, Harry silently gathered up his own things.

"You really are a fantastic dueler, Harry," Professor Matlock told him sincerely. He turned to look at her, and saw that she was smiling warmly at him.

"Thanks," he said, mustering as much of a return smile as he could.

"You really should be proud of the work you´ve done this year," she said, perching herself on the edge of her desk. "It´s been a pleasure teaching you."

"Thank you."

"Have a great summer," she said lightly.

At that, his insides grew cold. "You too," he forced. He tossed his robe over his shoulder and headed for the door.

Then suddenly, "Oh, Harry, wait!"

Harry turned back to see Professor Matlock hop off her desk and cross over to the front row of desks, bending down at the one in the middle, where Hermione had sat for the written exam earlier that day.

"Isn´t this Hermione´s?" she asked, holding up a beautiful scarlet quill, tipped in gold.

Harry recognized it immediately as Hermione´s favorite one. She used it all the time.

"Yeah," he said, walking over to her and taking it from her outstretched hand. "It must have fallen out of her bag."

Professor Matlock laughed, tucking a stray blonde lock behind her ear. It immediately fell forward again. "Well, it´s no wonder with all the things she keeps crammed in that bag of hers all the time. You´ll give it back to her?"

"Sure," Harry said, tucking it into his pocket. "She´ll be glad you found it." And then Harry let out a small chuckle. "You know, Hermione never loses anything. Funny that you´ve been the one to find all the things she´s misplaced this year."

Professor Matlock´s smile shifted into an expression of polite confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing," he answered. "You´ve probably forgotten, it was months ago."

"What was months ago?"

"When you found her necklace, remember? The one with the garnet stone that had the broken clasp? You found it under a broken floorboard by your desk."

Now his teacher´s expression settled into an outright frown. "No, I didn´t. I remember when that happened, and you asked me to look for it, but I never found it."

"Sure you did," Harry said slowly. "You found it and wrote a note to her, saying you´d fixed the clasp and then you gave it to Dobby, the house elf, and asked him to deliver it to her."

"Harry, I´m sorry, but I didn´t. You must have me confused with another teacher that found it."

Slowly, very slowly, a feeling like blood turning to ice began creeping up from Harry´s toes.

"No," Harry said.

"Well, it´s been a long time," she replied politely. "You´ve probably just forgotten."

"No," he said again, more intensely. This wasn´t right...something about this wasn´t right...hadn´t Dobby said Professor Matlock had given him the envelope? Hadn´t he said she had found it? He racked his brain trying to remember...

"Who is it from?" Hermione had asked.

"Dobby is not supposing to tell. Dobby is told it is all in the note."

"Oh God," Harry muttered under his breath. "Oh no."

"Harry?" Professor Matlock reached out to touch his arm. "Are you all right?"

"Who gave you the envelope, Dobby?" Harry whispered to himself. "I´m sorry," he told his professor. "I have to go." With that, Harry swept over to the door and out of the room. His feet didn´t seem able to walk quickly enough. "Hermione," he said under his breath, breaking into a run.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

And something had just gone very wrong for someone else as well. A figure stepped out of the shadows, coming up behind Harry, quickly and silently. Harry heard nothing, until the person´s mouth opened, and the mysterious figure spoke. But by then, it was too late.

"Obliviate!"

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

As always, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I apologize if your eyes are now falling out of your head from reading so many pages!

In chapter 17, the action will pick up considerably. Fasten your seatbelts, folks, it´s going to be a bumpy ride from here.

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Until next time!

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