Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: Rendezvous

Harry awoke on Saturday morning to the sound of rain pelting the windows of Gryffindor tower. Ron stood at the window, flexing his left arm experimentally as he stared out into the blank grey blur that had once been a view of the grounds.

Dor was already awake and pulling on his shoes. He had taken to rising earlier than the rest of the boys after Harry's reaction to seeing him in the loo, and was now habitually washed and dressed before any of the others were even yawning themselves awake. The rain continued in a doggedly persistent sort of way, not hard enough yet to really be called a downpour, but steady and fine, obscuring all possibility of vision, and ensuring a thorough drenching of anyone not smart enough to stay indoors.

At breakfast, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team looked almost as thrilled as the Gryffindor team did to have to play in the foul weather. They kept shooting furtive glances at the enchanted ceiling of the hall, as if they thought that by pretending to ignore the rain it might get bored and go away. Harry watched Professor McGonagall as she daintily sipped her morning tea at the high table, hoping she would announce that the game was cancelled on account of the ruddy nasty weather they were having, but no such luck.

After breakfast, Harry and the rest of his team made a mad dash for the Quidditch pitch with Dor following discretely behind under an umbrella that he transfigured from a butter knife. In the changing room, they stood around casting Impervious charms on one another to keep off as much of the rain as possible before assembling at the entrance to the pitch.

"Don't let the weather bother you!" Harry shouted over the sound of the rain as it began to come down more forcefully, drumming on the stands. "We've worked hard, and we're better than the Hufflepuffs! So just--" Before he finished however, Madam Hooch, standing under an enormous black and white striped umbrella, blew her whistle calling the players to the field, and the Gryffindors had no choice but to mount their brooms and fly out into the storm.

For the better part of the match, Harry had no idea what was going on with the rest of his teammates. The commentary was warbly and frequently drowned out by the sound of the rain and the intermittent rumble of thunder through the clouds. Occasionally a cheer would go up from the stands indicating that one side or the other had scored, but Harry could never quite be sure which. At one point he noticed that Hermione and Dor had abandoned Dor's umbrella and were cheering him on soaking wet.

Suddenly, Zacharias, the Hufflepuff Seeker, streaked past him in a blur of yellow and Harry's stomach sank. Zacharias must have seen the Snitch.

Cursing the lack of visibility, Harry swerved wildly and tore off on Zacharias' tail. He squinted into the rain, following the line of the other Seeker's outstretched arm, trying to see the Snitch for himself, but everything was a grey blur. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the far end of the stands loomed up before them, an enormous badger grinning at them from a Hufflepuff banner. Zacharias yelped and swerved upwards going into a completely vertical assent. Harry swerved in the other direction and headed straight down, trying not to slip off the front of his broom, which was slick with rain.

Then he saw it. Flitting in and out of the slats of the stands was the Golden Snitch -- and Zacharias was thirty feet above him by now. Leveling off, Harry readjusted his grip and snatched the Snitch out of the air.

Unfortunately, Madam Hooch hadn't seen him, and the game went on for several minutes more before Harry went up to her, tapped her on the shoulder, and showed her the Snitch struggling in his fingers.

It was still pouring when Harry and the others finally emerged from the changing rooms after the game and dashed back up to the school, having dried off dry only to get sopping wet again. In the Great Hall, the Gryffindor table was raucous with rowdy, rain-soaked revelers. Everyone who had attended the game was completely soaked to the skin, and Hermione was casting quick drying charms on each of them in turn, her own hair still plastered to her skull in a wet mass of curls. Harry grinned broadly as people clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him on his catch. He glanced across the Hall towards the Ravenclaw table and saw Gwyn watching him. She smiled prettily. Most of the Ravenclaws had been supporting Hufflepuff for a win, and hers was one of the few smiles at the table. Harry grinned back and he suddenly had a very good idea.

When Harry reached the Room of Requirement that evening, the door was already visible. He paused with his hand on the knob, wondering what the room would look like if Gwyn was already inside. His stomach squirmed with pleasant anxiety and he took a deep breath, pushing the door open.

The inside looked like a tiny café. Small tables were set up at regular intervals in pools of warm light, soft music played in the background, and heavy curtains and tapestries adorned the walls. Gwyn was sitting at one of the small tables, her feet tucked under her chair, crossed at the ankles, and she was toying with a teaspoon in a large cup of coffee. She glanced up when he entered and a warm blush crept across her cheeks.

"Hi," she said, a little sheepishly.

"Hi," Harry replied with a grin. He dropped his satchel, which was bulging with his invisibility cloak, in a corner, crossed to the table, and pulled out the chair opposite her where another cup of coffee was already sitting, waiting for him. "Where did all this come from?" he asked with a smile.

Gwyn blushed even more as she shrugged. "I guess I was thinking about a good place to go for a date and this is what it came up with."

Harry picked up his cup and took a long swig of the coffee; it was double sweet, double cream, just the way he liked it, and he marveled at it.

"How was the game?" Gwyn asked, continuing to stir her coffee with the little wooden stirrer. "I heard you won."

"You didn't go?" Harry asked, surprised and trying not to sound as disappointed as he felt. His heart fell a little as she shook her head.

"It was pouring down rain!" Gwyn protested with a little laugh. "I'm surprised you went to the game."

Harry shrugged and took another drink of his coffee defensively. "A little rain never hurt anybody. Besides, I couldn't just not go. My team needed me."

Gwyn smiled a little. "Of course not. I didn't really mean that, I was just..." Her voice trailed off as if she wasn't really sure what she meant. She took the teaspoon out of her coffee and stuck the end in her mouth.

"Well," Harry said, trying to keep a light tone, "it was a good match. Very close."

Gwyn nodded, not meeting his eyes as she sucked thoughtfully on her teaspoon. They were both silent for a minute. Harry tried desperately to think of something clever to say as he picked up his coffee cup, but the only thing he could come up with was to demand to know why she hadn't thought it was important to see him play in the Quidditch match. Granted it had been against Hufflepuff, and granted the rain had been hard enough you could barely see the pitch, but that didn't excuse--

"This was a good idea, Harry," Gwyn said, interrupting his internal argument. "I feel like we haven't had a chance to really see one another in a long time."

Harry glanced up and saw she was looking up at him through her lashes, her big blue eyes looking slightly pleading, and he felt his ire beginning to melt away.

"Yeah," he said. He realized that he had been gripping his mug rather hard and set it down on the table, resting his hands on either side of it.

Gwyn laughed a little, smiling at him more openly. "When you opened that door, I half expected Dor to be right behind you," she said, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "He acts like you two are joined at the hip."

Harry sighed. "You noticed that too?" he asked, a tad sarcastically.

"I'm sure he doesn't mean anything by it," Gwyn replied. "I bet he's just glad to have someone to be friends with."

Harry sighed. "Well he's really starting to get on my nerves."

"He's not here now," Gwyn said soothingly, inching her hand across the table until it was resting on top of Harry's. Her fingers were warm and soft; he realized that she was right, that it did feel like it had been ages since they'd been alone for more than a moment or two.

"Yeah," Harry said, a smile breaking across his face even as a twinge of guilt gnawed at him; the only reason Dor wasn't attached to his hip was because he hadn't exactly told Dor where he was going. Or that he was going anywhere at all.

Gwyn took another sip of her coffee and smiled at him. "So," she said in a warmer voice, "you said you had something you wanted to show me?"

"Oh yeah!" Harry scrabbled around in his pockets and produced the sheet of parchment Hermione had given him with the translation of his amulet on it. He reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled the amulet out by its chain. Gwyn leaned forward to get a better look.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "What kind of stone is that? It almost... glows, doesn't it?"

"It was my father's," Harry explained, looking down at the amulet he had worn every day since Remus had given it to him. "It has a riddle on it. Professor Lindell thought it might be a puzzle. You solve the riddle and it opens the lock. Hermione translated it." He pushed the paper across the table towards her. "She thought you might be able to help me solve it."

Gwyn picked up the parchment and proceeded to read aloud. "What's sweeter than honey, what fiercer than lions? What binds us together, both pauper and scion? A bond that's eternal when freely bestowed. A harvest more plentifully reaped than when sowed."

Harry stared down at the strange runes that circled the little red stone as he pondered the riddle. He flipped it over in his hand and turned one of the little rings. It clicked almost imperceptibly as each different symbol moved through the top position.

"I think I know what it is," Gwyn said softly, "and I think I know why Hermione wanted me to help you solve it."

Harry glanced up at her and saw that the pretty blush was again coloring her cheeks. She wouldn't meet his gaze as she ran her fingers slowly over the edge of the parchment. "What is it?" he asked, slightly bewildered that she'd figured it out so quickly.

"Can I see your amulet?" she asked. "I want to make sure I'm right."

Nodding, Harry carefully drew the chain off over his head, careful not to upset his glasses and held it out to Gwyn. She didn't take it from his hand, but rather, turned it over to the side with the symbols written on the moving rings. She studied it for a moment and then nodded almost imperceptibly.

"It's love, Harry," Gwyn said quietly. She glanced up at him, and their eyes met across the table. Harry felt his heart give an almost painful double beat under the intensity of her gaze. Sweeter than honey... fiercer than lions... Harry thought it made sense.

"Of course," he breathed. Gwyn blushed even more deeply and tore her eyes away from his to look at the amulet once more.

"These symbols stand for letters, or phonetic combinations," she explained. "We studied them at home last term." She reached out and clicked the outermost circle around until a certain symbol was at the top. "I think you're supposed to spell out the word love."

She reached out to touch the second ring and then paused. "What happens when you solve the puzzle?" she asked warily.

Harry shrugged. "Let's find out."

Gwyn nodded and together they moved the next two rings into place, a feeling of anticipation building between them. Professor Lindell had surmised that the amulet might contain a spell of some sort, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what would happen when the spell was released.

"That one," Gwyn indicated, pointing to a symbol on the innermost ring. She looked up at him excitedly. "You do it," she insisted.

Harry nodded and reached out to touch the amulet. It seemed warmer somehow, its weight resting solidly in his palm. He wondered if it were his imagination or if the stone in the center seemed to be glowing even more brightly than before. Solemnly, he held his breath and clicked the final ring into place.

Nothing happened.

He and Gwyn stared at the amulet for a full thirty seconds before Gwyn let out a deep breath she had been holding.

"Does it feel any different?" she asked, frowning slightly at the little gold disc. Harry shook his head, a little disappointed. He flipped the amulet over, but the side with the riddle remained unchanged.

"Maybe that's not the answer," Gwyn said doubtfully.

"No, it must be," Harry said with a shake of his head. "What else could it be?" He sighed. "I reckon it's empty after all. Professor Lindell said it might be."

Gwyn leaned back slightly and smiled. "Well, it's beautiful all the same -- the amulet, and the sentiment." Harry smiled back at her. He felt he had to agree.

It was well after curfew when Harry walked Gwyn back to the Ravenclaw tower, kissed her goodnight, and slipped back under his invisibility cloak for the walk to Gryffindor Tower. It had been the perfect ending to the day, and he felt like he was walking on air. He yawned with satisfaction after he whispered the password to the Fat Lady and climbed quietly through the portrait hole.

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry jumped and spun around, forgetting momentarily that he was hidden by his invisibility cloak. Hermione was on her feet in the center of the common room, her hands on her hips, eyes blazing as she stared at a spot roughly three feet to his left. Dor was scrambling to his feet from the sofa behind her. Ron, however, stayed where he was, sprawled in an armchair, snoring.

Harry started to move slowly towards the staircase, hoping he could sneak past them without any major altercations. It had all seemed so simple when he'd thought of the idea: make a date with Gwyn, take his invisibility cloak with him to the loo -- Dor had finally stopped insisting on waiting outside the cubicle door for him -- and sneak out for a few hours. Nothing could be simpler, and it had worked beautifully. Until now, of course.

Hermione's eyes were darting all over the place, trying to figure out where he was. She strode forwards purposefully, her arms outstretched like a bushy-haired Frankenstein.

"Don't think you can sneak past us, Harry!" she admonished, her hands grasping dangerously close to his shoulder. Her eyes and nose were both red, and Harry wondered if she'd been crying. His stomach squirmed guiltily even as he stepped around a pile of books, careful not to ruffle the pages as he passed.

"Are you sure that was him?" Dor asked, poking the empty air by the portrait hole with his cane.

"Of course I'm -- GOTCHA!" Harry wasn't moving fast enough and Hermione caught a corner of his hood, yanking it hard and exposing his head.

Ron snorted himself awake at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Argh!" he cried, starting as he saw Harry's disembodied head glaring at Hermione. "Bloody hell!"

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Hermione shrieked, yanking hard on the cloak again and pulling it off Harry's shoulders.

"Out!" Harry replied angrily. "Not that it's any business of yours!"

"Well it's certainly business of mine!" Dor retorted, stomping over to him. "I just about had a heart attack when you didn't come back from the bathroom! I went looking to make sure you hadn't fallen in!" Hermione sneezed loudly as if to emphasize Dor's point.

"Shhhhh!" Ron admonished, hurrying over to them. "You'll wake the whole house!"
"Answer the question, Harry!" Hermione snapped, ignoring Ron. "Where were you?"

"With Gwyn," Harry said. "Celebrating! I won the Quidditch match; I think I'm allowed to celebrate a little bit."

"We won," Ron corrected him with a frown.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I just wanted some time alone," he continued, "like a normal bloke."

"You can't just go off like that, Harry," Dor said reproachfully, his hands on his hips. "If you wanted some alone time with your girlfriend, all you had to do was ask."

"And you'd've let me go?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yeah, course," Dor replied. "You wouldn't even have known I was there--"

"No!" Harry shouted. "That's just the problem. I would have known you were there -- because you're always there!"

"Haven't you figured out that there's a reason he's always there?" Hermione asked poking Harry in the shoulder with her finger to punctuate her words. "Or are you really that thick?" She sneezed again and wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Somebody's trying to kill you!"

"Somebody's always trying to kill me," Harry retorted morosely. "I'm used to it by now."

"This isn't a game, Harry," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "You've got to face the fact that you're -- ah-CHOO!"

"If it's not a game," Harry said darkly, "how come I feel like I'm always the loser?" He snatched his cloak from her fist and turned on his heel before Hermione could answer, storming up the stairs to his room.

Dor and Ron were close on his heels.

"This conversation isn't over, Harry!" Dor shouted as he limped up the stairs.

"Shhhhh!" Ron hissed unhappily, glancing at the door marked First Years as they passed.

But Harry didn't want to hear any of it. Blowing into the sixth year dormitory, he slammed the door loudly against the wall, startling Neville and Dean awake.

"What's going on?" Neville asked, sitting straight up in his bed.

Harry threw his cloak into his open trunk and kicked the lid closed. "Nothing, Neville. Go back to sleep," he said darkly. Ron and Dor came into the room close on Harry's heels.

"Harry!" Dor protested, but Harry didn't care. He climbed quickly onto his bed and shut the curtains, charming them to stay closed and putting up a silencing charm for good measure, effectively blocking Dor out.

He couldn't be sure how long it took the others to finally go to sleep, but Harry sat awake and seething for hours.

The next day, Dor and Harry came to an uneasy truce; Dor didn't say anything about Harry sneaking off, and Harry consented not to shout every time Dor opened his mouth. Hermione made it quite clear that she wasn't speaking to Harry. She didn't come down to the Great Hall for breakfast, and when Harry, Ron, and Dor returned to the Gryffindor common room to do homework, she was nowhere to be found. At first, Harry welcomed the quiet, but when she didn't come down for lunch or dinner, he began to worry.

"She hasn't eaten anything all day," Ron said around an enormous mouthful of mashed potatoes. "She'll make herself ill, and honestly mate, you're not worth it."

"Don't have to tell me that," Harry sulked. "If she hadn't shouted at me--"

"She was shouting at you for your own good," Dor interjected tersely. Harry narrowed his eyes darkly. "Glare at me all you want, Potter," Dor said, gesturing at Harry with his spoon, "but we were right, you know it, and I'm not letting you out of my sight again. Ever. Pass the tomatoes."

Harry scowled and pushed the plate across the table. Some part of him knew how foolish it had been to sneak out to see Gwyn, but he found it hard to believe that the assassin could actually be anyone in the castle. He'd gone over it in his mind a dozen times; whomever the assassin might be, it was probably someone new to Hogwarts. The only new people were Professor Lindell, Gwyn, Phillipe Fontaine, and the entire class of first years, and none of them seemed likely candidates. He had considered that his attacker might be impersonating another person with Polyjuice or some other form of transformation, the way Crouch had impersonated Moody, but that meant it could be anybody at all, and he just couldn't wrap his brain around that.

"All I'm saying," Ron continued, "is that she's got to eat something sooner or later, whether Harry's here or not."

"Take her a plate if you're so worried," Dor said with a shrug.

"Hi boys," Gwyn said, appearing suddenly next to Harry.

"Hi Ron," Luna said almost simultaneously, dropping down onto the bench next to Ron as he started violently and almost spilled his pumpkin juice.

"Oh. Hi Luna," he said, recovering himself.

"Good game yesterday," Luna said, staring at Ron intently. "You've tenreally improved since last year."

Ron frowned at her slightly. "What's that meant to mean?" he asked.

"Just that you're not letting in so many goals as you were last year," Luna replied, apparently oblivious to Ron's consternation.

Gwyn cleared her throat and gave Luna a meaningful look across the table. "So, they posted the dates for the next Hogsmeade weekend," she said giving Harry a little smile.

"Oh yeah?" he replied. "That's good. Maybe we could all -- ow!" He glanced up at Gwyn as she trod on his foot sharply under the table.

"I was thinking of taking my Omnioculars and looking for Wangdoodles near the forest," Luna announced. Ron snorted loudly, choking back laughter.

Dor gave Luna a curious look. "Looking for what now?" he asked.

"Wangdoodles," Luna replied serenely. Ron started coughing violently to cover his laughter. "Spring is their nesting season," Luna continued, "so it's an excellent time to catch a glimpse of them."

"Aha," Dor said, still looking slightly confused.

Luna turned back to Ron and smiled. "They're supposed to be really lucky," she said, "especially for lovers."

"For WHAT?" Ron asked, his eyes widening suddenly.

"I was wondering," Luna pressed on, "if you'd like to go with me." She smiled broadly. "We could go back to Hogsmeade when we're done if you like. I know you like to visit Zonkos."

Harry grinned broadly as Ron gave him a vaguely frantic look.

"Erm..." Ron said slowly. "Gee, Luna, I'd love to, but I... can't."

Luna's pleased expression began to fall. She blinked her enormous eyes at him once.

"I've already got a date, you see," Ron continued, "with Hermione."

Everyone at the table stared at him.

"Oh," Luna said softly. "That's OK." She stood up and brushed a few imaginary crumbs from the folds of her robes. "Maybe another time." Without looking at any of them, she turned and wandered back towards the Ravenclaw table.

"Do you really have plans with Hermione?" Gwyn demanded.

Ron puffed himself up and looked affronted. "'Course I do!" he said haughtily.

Gwyn studied him through narrowed eyes for a few moments longer before heaving a great sigh. "Well, I wish I'd known," she said wearily. "I spent all morning encouraging her to come over and ask. I'd better go talk to her." She stood and kissed Harry on top of the head before making a bee line for Luna.

"This is great news, isn't it?" Harry said, grinning broadly at Ron.

"When did this happen?" Dor asked.

"And how come you didn't tell me about it?" Harry added.

"Because it isn't true," Ron said softly, dropping his head into his hands.

Harry stared at him. "What?"

"I don't have a date with Hermione." He glanced up, his expression desperate. "But what could I say? I don't want to spend an entire Saturday looking for whatsits with Luna."

"Sounds like she was perfectly willing to try things you like to do," Dor said pointedly.

"You think I should have said yes?" Ron demanded. "Go to Hogsmeade with Loony Lovegood?"

"Beats having people find out you lied about having a date," Dor replied with a shrug. "Especially Hermione-type people."

"Oh no," Ron groaned, his head sinking back into his hands. "She'll kill me if she finds out. What am I going to do?"

"Seems to me," Harry said thoughtfully, "that there's only one thing to do." Ron looked up hopefully. "Ask Hermione to go with you to Hogsmeade."

Dor laughed at Ron's startled expression. "Why Harry!" he exclaimed with a giggle. "That's so crazy it just might work!"

In the end, Ron only agreed to ask Hermione if Harry and Dor came along for moral support. "She probably won't even be there," Ron said nervously as Dor gave the Fat Lady the password. "And I can't very well go up to her room to ask her. No, I'll just have to wait until--"

The portrait swung open to reveal Hermione sitting buried in books, wrapped in a blanket by the common room fire.

"Huh," Dor said with a grin. "Looks like you won't have to wait after all."

The three of them climbed unceremoniously through the portrait hole and made their way towards Hermione. As they approached, Harry could see that her nose and eyes were still slightly red and puffy. Surely she couldn't have been up in her room crying all this time...

"Maybe I should just..." Ron said hesitantly. Harry shoved him roughly between the shoulder blades and Ron scowled at him as he marched over to Hermione's chair.

"Rod!" Hermione cried on seeing him. "Where hab you beed? I've beed looking for you all day!"

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. She sounded like she had a cold. "I've been here," he replied. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I'be fide," she said waiving a hand at him airily. "Just a liddle cold, I think. I've beed healing byself."

"Erm, Hermione..." Dor started, but Harry put a hand on his arm, shaking his head violently.

"Oh," Ron said. He dropped down to squat next to Hermione's chair, leaning heavily on the armrest so that he could look her in the eye. "Look, there's something I want to ask you, and if you don't want to, you don't have to, of course, but if you do want to, I'd really like it if you would."

Hermione frowned. "Would what?" she asked.

"GowithmetoHogsmeade," Ron mumbled.

"What?" Hermione shouted.

Ron flinched. "Would you go with me to Hogsmeade?" he asked at a slightly slower pace.

Hermione blinked at him several times as though she were having trouble focusing. Then, suddenly, her face brightened and she opened her eyes wide. "Oh Roddy!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Roddy?" Dor whispered incredulously and Harry stifled a laugh.

"Ob COURSE I'll go with you!" Hermione continued, still squeezing Ron. "I thoughd you'd neber ask!"

"Hermione!" Ron said suddenly, pulling out of her headlock. "You're burning up!"

Hermione sniffed loudly and waived a hand at him again. "Piffle," she said seriously. "I feel fide."

"You don't look fine," he replied, frowning deeply. "Harry, Dor..."

Dor strode forward purposefully and laid the back of his hand against her forehead, recoiling almost immediately. "You are most definitely not fine," he said. "You've got a terrible fever."

"I'be healing byself," she repeated.

"Hermione," Dor said with a worried look on his face, "healing magic is really difficult to perform on yourself. Really, only the most powerful witches and wizards can do it."

"Dod't be silly," Hermione said, gathering her blanket around her like a fuzzy toga as she struggled to her feet. "I'be the brightest witch of my -- woah."

Hermione swayed dangerously and Ron grabbed her, wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. She laid her head against his shoulder and moaned slightly.

"Rod? When did you get here? Whad ab I doing in the common room?"

"She's delirious," Harry said worriedly.

Ron sighed.

"Let's take her to Madame Pomfrey then."