The Book of Morgan Le Fey

Chapter Thirty Two: Discoveries

January passed quickly into February. The weather, while still frigid, cleared up enough to allow for the resumption of Quidditch practices. It was too cold to spend hours out on the pitch at a time, but they were able to fit in an hour each night, four nights a week.

D.A. meetings resumed, with the focus on Patronuses and Protection Spells. Lessons became increasingly difficult; even without the pressure of O.W.Ls Ron, Harry and Hermione found themselves spending long hours in the library; when they weren't doing homework or studying for their lessons they were in the common room poring through Hermione's many medical books. They had resumed, too, their ritual of reading The Daily Prophet every day. Thus far, nothing new or worrisome had occurred, which only served to make Ron, Harry and Hermione more agitated and more determined than ever to discern Voldemort's plans.

Ron was so busy that he completely forgot about Valentine's Day and didn't even notice until just after Herbology.

"What'd you get Hermione?" Harry asked in a low voice, as he packed his wand, quill and books into his school bag.

"For what?" said Ron.

Harry shook his head. "Valentine's Day, stupid."

"Valentine's--that's TODAY?" Ron hissed, glancing at Hermione, who was deep in conversation with Susan Bones. The two girls glanced over at them and smiled.

"Yeah, that's today," said Harry. "You'd better get her something. This is, like, the most important holiday for girls." He grinned at Susan and left Ron standing there feeling like a complete dolt.

Hermione headed over to meet Ron and smiled sweetly at him, which only made Ron feel more wretched.

"Hi," she said. "Fancy a walk before dinner?" They headed out of the greenhouses.

"Yeah," he said. "But, uh, a bit later, if that's okay."

"Oh," said Hermione. "All right. When?"

"Uh, half an hour?" he said, without thinking. Hardly enough time to find her an appropriate gift but maybe he could write her a quick poem. Or something.

"Okay," she said, but she gave him a slightly confused look when he pecked her on the cheek and dashed into the castle.

He raced back to the common room and into the dormitory to search his trunk, in the hopes of perhaps finding a few leftover Chocolate Frogs or Sugar Quills from his Christmas stash, but there were none left.

'Bloody pig, how could I have eaten them all?' he swore to himself. He began to dig through his trunk, tossing clothes every which way until he came to new, and as yet unworn, maroon jumper. It would be way too big for her and it had a big 'R' knitted in white wool on the front, but it was the only thing he could think of. At least it was new, anyway. He pulled a piece of parchment from his bag and took out his ink bottle and quill. He had no idea what to write to her. The notion of writing a poem seemed ridiculous now. In fact, the whole situation was ridiculous. How on earth could he have forgotten Valentine's Day? What sort of boyfriend did that make him?

Harry hadn't forgotten. Harry had probably bought Susan some really nice little gift and was probably giving her the gift right now, and she'd probably be delighted and snog Harry stupid for his trouble.

'Shite,' said Ron. Well, there was nothing to be done now. He only hoped Hermione wouldn't stay angry with him for too long. It wasn't like he had a lot of money to spend on her anyway. Perhaps he could make it up to her by carrying her books for the rest of the year.

He hurtled down the spiral staircase, jumper in hand, just in time to see her clamber through the portrait hole. She was alone.

He stood stock-still in the middle of the common room, the jumper rolled up and held behind his back.

'Ron?' she asked, looking at him quizzically. 'What are you doing?'

'Uh,' he said dumbly. 'Waiting for you.'

'Oh,' she said, smiling. 'I was just going to drop my books here before our walk.' She set her books down on the coffee table.

'Oh, right,' said Ron, smiling nervously.

'Ron, what do you have behind your back?' Hermione asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

'Nothing,' he said lamely.

She gave him a very knowing look.

'Uh, well,' he stammered. 'It's--your Valentine's Day present.' He blushed very red and felt incredibly ridiculous.

'My Valentine's Day present?' she asked. 'You got me a Valentine's Day present?'

'No--yeah,' he said quickly. 'I mean, I sort of, well--'

'Valentine's Day is today? I completely forgot,' Hermione said, sounding bemused. 'I guess I was so caught up in school and research and things.'

'You--you FORGOT about Valentine's Day?' Ron said, amazed. What sort of girl forgot Valentine's Day? To hear girls talk about the holiday it was the single most important day of the year.

'Yes,' Hermione said simply, walking toward him. 'I mean, it's really rather a silly holiday, isn't it? Not a real holiday at all.'

'It's not?' Ron asked, amazed.

'Oh, no,' said Hermione. 'Valentine's Day is really just a conspiracy by flower sellers and candy sellers and jewelry merchants to get people to buy more stuff and spend more money, isn't it? You really didn't have to get me a gift, you know, Ron. I didn't exactly get you anything, I'm afraid. I really just didn't think Valentine's Day was all that important.'

'Oh,' said Ron, stunned.

'But since you've already gone to the trouble,' she went on, 'maybe I could see what you got me.'

'Well, uh,' Ron stammered. 'Actually, I forgot about Valentine's Day, too. I'm sorry! I just--it's been so busy, and--and, well. I felt guilty about not having anything for you so I went through my stuff and just--found this thing. It's new. I mean, uh, it's never been...used.'

He was so red he was sure his head resembled a giant tomato. He handed her the balled up jumper and looked down at his feet.

Hermione unrolled the jumper.

'This...this is your jumper,' she said.

'Yeah, well, I--I didn't know what else to get you and I don't really like maroon much, not on me anyway, and--' His voice gave out for a moment. 'I'm sorry, 'Mione, it's stupid. I'll take it back and get you something proper. I mean, that thing has a big "R" on it.'

'No,' said Hermione. 'I like this. I'll keep it, if you don't mind.'

'Hermione, it'll be way too big for you,' Ron protested.

'It'll be cozy to wear on cold nights,' said Hermione. 'And I rather like the big R on it. If I wear it I'll--I'll feel a bit closer to you.' She blushed.

Ron hadn't considered it that way. It sounded nice.

'Really?' he said.

'Oh, that sounds silly, doesn't it?' she said, her face very flushed.

'No,' he said. 'It doesn't sound silly.' Actually, the idea of Hermione wearing his jumper sounded more than a bit...sexy. Ron suddenly realized he hadn't kissed her at all today and crossed to her.

'I'm sorry I didn't get you anything,' she said, looking ashamed.

'I have you,' he said. 'That's...a good Valentine's Day present.'

Nice, Weasley, he thought. Nice and bloody corny as all hell.

'Oh, Ron,' said Hermione, and her eyes went soft and she put her arms round his neck, still clutching the jumper, and went up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Ron made a mental note to say corny things to her more often.

They kissed for a good few minutes and it became deep and intense and Ron managed to kiss her neck again and put his arms round her waist and--Merlin!--slide his hands a bit lower than he ever had before. He heard Hermione sigh and THAT was quite exciting and then he felt her drop the jumper and he thought now would be a good time to go over to the sofa.

She pulled away.

'Um,' she said, looking down at her shoes. 'Maybe...we should go.'

'Go?' said Ron. Reluctantly he let go of her. His hands and other parts of him felt like they were burning up.

'For our walk,' said Hermione, taking one of his hands in hers. 'Before we...um, do something...you know, that could get us in trouble.'

'Oh,' said Ron. No, let's stay here, he wanted to say. Let's go over to the sofa and keep doing what we were doing and you can let me put my hands back where they were because that was really nice. Instead he said, 'Okay.'

'Good,' she said, circling behind him to pick up the jumper. 'I'll just drop this in my room and...and we'll go.'

'Right,' he said, watching her as she turned and hurried up the girls' staircase. He took a deep breath to calm himself down but it didn't do much good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later Ron, Harry and Hermione were in the library, once again doing research amongst Hermione's many medical texts. They had taken to cross- referencing historical accounts of various disease outbreaks with their History of Magic textbooks, in the hopes of finding some connection, but thus far were not having much luck.

Ron's eyes were tired and he was developing a headache, but his eyes continued to scan the medical book he was reading and then back to the History of Magic text. He noticed a few pictures in that book; one of them--it looked like a print version of an old etching--depicted a woman tied to a burning stake; she had her mouth open in a scream and there was a smug looking priest and several others with him watching her burn. As it was a magic text, the picture moved. Flames seemed to lick at the witch's feet. Except that Ron knew real witches didn't burn at the stake. The caption beneath read '14^th century etching from a typical pro-Inquisition placard depicting witch-burning in rural Italy.'

Next to the picture of the witch at the stake was another, larger picture, a similiar 14^th century etching, that showed bodies. Piles of them, burning. Next to the bodies was a crowd of people holding handkerchiefs over their noses. Again, there was a priest, and he held up a cross in his hand and looked to be intoning something. Behind the priest were several people on their knees, wailing. Beneath that picture was a caption: 'Depiction of the devastation of The Black Plague, circa 1350. Many church officials believed The Plague had supernatural causes and stepped up persecution of witches and warlocks.'

Black Plague, thought Ron, and he flipped to the index of the medical text and found it, then turned to the appropriate pages in that book.

His eyes went wide when he saw the picture in the medical text. It was an unmoving version of the same picture depicting the dead bodies, the intoning priest, the crowd behind him, some kneeling and wailing and throwing up their hands, others covering their faces with handkerchiefs.

'Hey,' he said in a low voice. 'Look at this.'

'What?' Harry and Hermione asked at once. Ron slid both books over to them and pointed to the matching pictures, one that moved and one that did not.

'The Black Death,' said Hermione. 'Wiped out a third of the population in Europe.'

'That sounds pretty nasty to me,' said Ron. 'Sounds like something Voldemort would go for.'

'Hmm,' said Hermione. 'I don't know about that. Black Plague is pretty easy to cure these days. I'd think Voldemort would want something that's tougher to cure.'

Ron considered this, but then thought of something else. 'But, Hermione, you said that Voldemort would probably use magic to, you know, make the disease stronger.'

'You did say that, Hermione,' said Harry.

Ron pulled the books back and read the description of the disease in the medical book.

'Bubonic Plague,' he said, reading phrases from the medical book. 'Brought over from China in 1347 by Italian shipping merchants who came into Sicily from a port in the Black Sea. By the time the ships docked, a bunch of the crew were already dead or infected. The Sicilian government tried to turn them away but it was too late. People on land got infected and it spread. Reached England the following summer.'

Harry and Hermione had stopped reading and were listening to Ron intently.

'Go on,' she said.

'Right,' said Ron. He gazed at the page, and his eyes went wide. 'Bloody hell. Says here that by 1352, 25 million people were dead from the Plague. A third of the population. That was the worst of it but the disease kept coming back in smaller outbreaks for--for centuries. It didn't die out completely until the 17th century.'

'No disease every really dies out,' said Hermione. 'Most diseases burn hot for a while and then when enough people die, the disease goes dormant. Bubonic plague still shows up from time to time but it's become very easy to cure. Unless Voldemort comes up with a way to make it more lethal, which is possible. I mean, that's what I said before. The problem is, he could do that with any number of diseases.'

'But,' said Ron persistently, 'THIS disease has connections to witches and warlocks, Hermione. All those witches and warlocks got blamed for all kinds of stuff, including this disease.'

'That's right,' said Harry, taking up the theme. 'And...it would be just like Voldemort, wouldn't it, to use a disease that the wizarding world got blamed for and bring it back to wipe out Muggles. He'd, I dunno, think it was poetic justice or something.'

Hermione looked at both of them, her expression showing pleasant surprise.

'What?' said Ron, a bit defensively.

'Nothing,' said Hermione. 'I mean, well, it...does make some sense, doesn't it?'

'Don't be so shocked, Hermione,' said Harry dryly. 'You're not the only one with a functioning brain.'

'I didn't mean--' she began.

'I know we didn't get twenty-five O.W.Ls, 'Mione, but we're not stupid,' said Ron, feigning a hurt expression, but he couldn't help smiling.

'Oh, for heaven's sake,' said Hermione, a bit loudly. Madam Pince shot her a nasty look.

Harry and Ron both sniggered. Ron looked back at the medical textbook.

'It says that the bacteria that causes bubonic plague is...bloody hell, I have no idea how to pronounce this...Yer-see-ni-a pes-tis,' he read slowly.

'Close enough,' said Hermione, shooting him a look that was a mixture of affection and annoyance.

'Yersenia pestis,' Ron repeated. 'Is that Latin or Greek, Hermione?'

'Shut up,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. Harry chuckled.

Ron read some more. 'Yersenia pestis is believed to have been found in fleas...the fleas infested the ships that went to Sicily and bit the...rats on board, and the rats probably bit the sailors...'

'Rats,' repeated Harry.

'Wormtail,' said Ron and Hermione.

'Wormtail,' said Harry. 'You think Voldemort's going to use Wormtail to spread the disease somehow?'

'Why not?' said Ron. 'If Voldemort can develop some sort of antidote to keep Wormtail from getting sick, of course. But he's an Animagus, he can Apparate wherever he wants to go, hang out with some other rats and throw some fleas around or something--'

'--and the fleas will bite people, who'll get sick?' said Harry doubtfully.

'It does sound a bit far-fetched, Ron,' said Hermione.

'Yeah, well,' said Ron, 'you tell me, then, why Wormtail came back.'

'I don't know,' said Hermione. 'I mean, he's obviously helping Voldemort.'

'Let's say you're both right,' said Harry. 'Ron about Wormtail spreading the disease and Voldemort about tweaking it to make it stronger or something. Even if that's all true, he can't kill everyone.'

They all looked at one another in silence and Ron retreated into his thoughts for a few moments when Hermione spoke up.

'He wouldn't necessarily have to kill all the Muggles,' said Hermione. 'Fascism by degrees.'

'Fash--what?' Ron asked.

'Fascism by degrees,' Hermione repeated. 'It's where a somebody in power comes to be in power by slowly taking away people's freedoms and whatever. In Muggle history there's all sorts of examples. Usually a really powerful dictator gets power because he comes along when society is feeling vulnerable.'

'I still don't get it,' said Ron, feeling very stupid. Hermione's brain was just too fast, too complex for him.

'I'm saying,' said Hermione patiently, 'that all Voldemort has to do is kill enough people, and the right people at that, to create a panic. He can start by killing Muggle world leaders, set up some sort of government crisis. Then he lets loose with whatever disease he's got and thousands, or even millions of people die. His disease is incurable. The public health system can't handle the load of patients it's getting. The more people get sick and die, the fewer workers there are to keep the economy running. It's a ripple effect, see? And even if millions of Muggles are left, so much damage has been done that the world is in chaos. People become desperate and they'll look to anyone to restore what's been lost, to save them and protect them. That's where Voldemort comes in.'

Ron and Harry stared at her

'Wait,' said Ron. 'You're saying Voldemort's going to kill millions of people and then save the rest of them?'

'No,' said Hermione. 'I'm saying he could come along and make whoever's left think that he's going to save them, when in fact he'll just take away their freedoms bit by bit. He'll tell them it's for their own good or whatever, and they'll be too shell-shocked to notice that he's stripping away their freedoms.'

'That's...well, that's just daft,' said Ron.

Hermione bristled. 'Ron, it's happened a million times throughout history, both in the wizarding world AND in the Muggle world. Which you'd know if you ever paid attention in Binns' classes.'

'Hermione's right, Ron,' said Harry.

'Are you paying attention in Binns' lessons all of a sudden?' said Ron, annoyed.

'No,' said Harry. 'But I remember reading about World War II when I was in primary school. It sounds like what happened with Hitler.'

'Exactly,' said Hermione, in a slightly smug tone of voice.

'Hitler,' said Ron. 'That...German nutter who went around invading Europe all the time?'

'And killing millions of people in the process,' said Hermione. 'He didn't do it by himself. He had quite a following of people willing to carry out atrocities for him. Just like Voldemort has.'

'But, Hermione,' said Harry. 'Even with all his Death Eaters and Dementors and whoever else, how's that enough--'

'If Voldemort's as clever as we think he is, he'll turn Muggles against Muggles,' said Hermione firmly.

'How do you figure that?' said Ron, trying to absorb everything Hermione was saying.

'People are sheep when they're scared,' said Hermione. 'All Voldemort needs to do is create enough panic and then act like a benevolent savior and people will be begging to do whatever he wants them to do. Not all of them, but enough. That is what I mean by fascism by degrees. He creates a panic, creates a power vacuum, steps in and takes over and restores order, then tells everyone to trust him and put their faith in him or whatever and they do, and then he's able to create the kind of government or dynasty or whatever it is he wants. Before people realize what he's actually doing is evil, it's too late.'

'That sounds bloody complicated,' said Ron, shaking his head.

'World domination is rarely simple, Ron,' said Hermione, smirking. Ron glared at her and stuck his tongue out at her. She giggled and stuck her tongue out at him.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'When you're finished,' he said.

'Oh, yeah,' said Ron. 'Uh, well. That's all very well and good, Hermione, but we still don't know what virus he's going to use.'

'And there's that book,' said Harry. 'Remember? He's looking for some book.'

'Right,' said Hermione and Ron together. Ron had forgotten about The Book. Suddenly his brain was completely, utterly exhausted. There was simply too much information to process now.

'I need to go after him,' said Harry, after a brief silence. 'I need to get inside Voldemort's head.'

'You mean--' Hermione began.

'Legilimency, yeah,' said Harry. 'I've got to do it, Hermione.'

'Are you sure you're ready for that?' Hermione asked. 'Harry, it's so dangerous!'

'I know,' said Harry, 'but I haven't had any visions in a while, and it's making me nervous. Voldemort knows I can see inside his head when he gets really angry or happy about something; maybe he's purposely trying to keep quiet so he doesn't accidentally let me in, you know? He slipped up before, letting me hear him talk about that book. But he's not stupid--he probably knows he slipped up letting me hear about the book, and he might be laying low, cutting himself off from me. He knows Dumbledore's going to be checking up on me and asking about whatever visions I have. If Voldemort's not going to get in my head, I need to get into his.'

Ron and Hermione nodded, both now too scared to speak.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next several days Harry spent most of his free time in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, practicing Legilimency. Bill had given him special permission to use the classroom for that purpose and had barred other students from disturbing him.

This did not stop Draco Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle from attempting to ambush Harry on one occasion when he left the classroom for the evening. The first time Harry managed to narrowly escape by using several powerful counterjinxes and a Protection Spell when Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle tried to hex him, but this caught the attention of Professor McGonagall, who happened to be rounding the corner into that same corridor. McGonagall promptly gave Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle a week's worth of detentions and deducted ten points from each of them. After that first night Ron and Hermione agreed to meet Harry late in the evenings after he practiced, so that at least they wouldn't be outnumbered if Malfoy's gang showed up again. Harry bristled at this but said nothing. He did, however, insist on seeing Susan after each session, so Ron and Hermione were forced to make the rather long trip to entrance to the Hufflepuff common room to meet up with her.

'It's about time Malfoy and those two fatheads got some serious detentions,' said Ron happily. 'And get this. I hear McGonagall's making them scrub out every toilet in the school. With toothbrushes.'

'Yeah,' said Harry, smiling smugly. 'And wouldn't you know Peeves has been causing the boys' loos to all back up. Nasty business, that.'

'Poor things,' said Hermione sarcastically.

The following evening when Ron and Hermione met Harry after his latest Legilimency practice session, during dinner, he rushed out of the classroom with a slightly feverish look in his eye, and he was covered in sweat.

'What?' said Ron, alarmed.

'I'll tell you in the common room,' said Harry, practically sprinting down the corridor, Ron and Hermione at his heels. Apparently, Harry wasn't going to see Susan tonight.

They burst into the common room to find it empty.

'Tell us,' said Hermione, as they sat down in their favorite chairs in front of the dwindling fire.

'Voldemort's taken some more scientists,' said Harry. 'I think he's trying to use them to produce the disease. You know, replicate it and stuff.'

'How many?' Hermione asked.

'Seven of them this time,' said Harry. 'His Death Eaters are getting around. Lucius Malfoy seems to be in charge of it all.'

'Big surprise there,' said Ron dryly.

'It gets worse,' said Harry. 'Those Death Eaters in St. Mungo's, remember? The ones who didn't get away in that break-out at Azkaban? Well, they're out now. Malfoy and...and Dolohov, I think, managed to spring them out of hospital.'

'They've been in St. Mungo's all this time?' said Hermione.

'Under heavy security, yeah,' said Harry. 'Maybe the Ministry thought they'd be easier to deal with there. I dunno. But the point is, they're out.'

'Were you able to learn anything else about that book Voldemort wants?' Hermione asked.

Harry opened his mouth to answer but suddenly yelped and grabbed at his scar.

'Harry!' Ron and Hermione both cried, moving toward him.

'He knows...he knows I...dammit!' Harry said, rubbing furiously at his scar. Suddenly he stiffened and his eyes seemed to widen and glaze over. He spoke, but the voice was not his own. It was high pitched, cold, and utterly horrible.

'The book is the solution,' he said. 'The book has death and life. Poison and cure. Without it my plan won't work. Without it I cannot proceed. Get the book. It's in Hogwarts. Get the book.'

'Oh, my God,' Hermione whispered, gripping Ron's arm in terror as Harry's eyes rolled back. He jerked and closed his eyes and seized at his scar again and groaned.

'Ow!'

'Harry, we're taking you to Madam Pomfrey!' Hermione cried, standing up.

'No!' Harry snapped. His voice was back to normal. 'No. No hospital wing.' His breathing was slowing down and color was returning to his face.

'Harry, you're...you're scaring us!' Hermione said shrilly. 'Voldemort's hurting you!'

'I know!' Harry said. 'I know. Hermione, please. You don't understand, it's the only way. Do you want to stop him from wiping out Muggles or don't you?'

'Yes!' said Hermione. 'But...but...'

'We're worried for you, mate, that's all,' said Ron. 'We...we don't know what it's like, all right? I mean, we feel pretty useless when you...when you get all these visions and your scar hurts. We...we just wish we could do something, okay?'

Harry looked at both of them and swallowed; he seemed to suddenly find it very difficult to talk. 'Thanks,' Harry managed, looking down at his shoes.

There was a long silence in which none of them spoke. Hermione took Harry's hand and clutched it in her own, and Ron put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and they stayed like that for a while, Ron feeling miserable and helpless but at the same time knowing that Harry was right--there was no other way but for Harry to use Legilimency to keep one step ahead of Voldemort.

Eventually they got up and went to dinner, Harry announcing in an overly boisterous voice that he was starving. Dinner was excellent as always but Ron had to force himself to eat something. Harry, meanwhile, seemed to be feeling heartier and ate a sizeable meal.

'Hi, Harry,' said a voice behind him. It was Susan.

Harry looked up at her and the first genuine smile Ron had seen in days crossed his face.

'Hi, Susan,' he said. 'I'm just finishing up here. Want to--'

'Yeah,' she said, cutting him off and blushing slightly. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance and suppressed the urge to smile.

'Well, I'll see you two later, then, shall I?' Harry asked, getting up from the table.

''Bye, Harry,' said Hermione, smiling warmly.

'Watch out for McGonagall,' Ron warned. 'You're on her good side at the moment; don't mess that up by, well, you know.' Harry punched Ron in the arm.

''Bye, Susan,' Hermione called as she and Harry headed out of the Great Hall. Susan waved to them both.

'She's very nice,' Hermione commented as she took a bite of that night's pudding.

'Yeah, he seems pretty happy when he's around her,' Ron said, helping himself to a generous portion of treacle tart, his appetite returned at having seen Harry finally happy about something.

'She's good for him, you know?' Hermione said in a thoughtful voice. 'They seem to get along well, I think. She takes his mind off his problems.'

'A good snog'll do that,' Ron said, his smirk turning into a wicked smile. 'Speaking of which...'

'Honestly, Ron,' said Hermione, rolling her eyes. 'Can't you think of anything else?' She blushed and smiled at him.

'Not at the moment, no,' he said, reaching across the table and taking her hand.

'Hello, Hermione,' a smooth voice intoned behind her. Ron looked up. It was Eddie Carmichael.

Hermione turned in her seat. 'Oh, uh, hello, Eddie.'

'Hello, Weasley,' said Eddie, giving Ron an appraising and patronizing glance. 'Sorry, am I interrupting anything?'

'Yes,' said Ron, but Hermione said 'No' at the same time, and Eddie seemed to have chosen to hear Hermione and ignore Ron. Ron gripped the bench on which he was sitting to keep from leaping at Eddie when the Head Boy slid onto the bench next to Hermione.

'So, there's a Hogsmeade visit coming up, finally,' said Eddie, leering at Hermione. 'How about you and me go? We don't have babysitting duties anymore now that it's just fifth years and up.'

Ron couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe Eddie Carmichael had the nerve to come here and ask Hermione on a date. Didn't this prat know Ron and Hermione were already dating?

'Oh, well,' said Hermione, blushing and looking at Ron, who was clenching his teeth. She shot him a very significant look, and he bit back a nasty retort to Eddie. Let her handle it, Ron thought, or she'll take it out on me.

'Actually,' she said slowly. 'I'm going with Ron. We're dating, you see.'

Something flashed in Eddie's eyes that Ron distinctly did not like.

'Oh, damn,' said Eddie breezily, his voice belying the dangerous look in his eyes. 'I guess I missed the boat on that one. Who'd have guessed Weasley'd win you before I did?'

'He didn't "win" me,' Hermione said, smiling through gritted teeth.

'She's a girl, not a trophy,' Ron said sharply, not knowing just where that came from, but judging by the satisfied look on Hermione's face, he guessed he'd said something good.

'Of course she's not,' said Eddie smoothly. 'Well, if it doesn't work out with Weasley, Hermione, you know where to find me.' He leered at her again and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

'Do you mind?' Ron said, struggling mightily to keep from pounding Eddie to a pulp right there.

'Sorry, Weasley,' said Eddie smugly, standing up and holding up his hands. 'Can't blame me, though, can you? I mean, look at her. How do you keep your hands off her?'

'I BEG your pardon!' Hermione snapped, leaping up from the table.

'You're out of line, Carmichael,' Ron said, leaning over the table so that--he was pleased to see--he towered over the Eddie.

'Yeah, well,' said Eddie, 'I'm also the Head Boy. You're just a prefect. So before you go thinking you can pummel me, remember I do have the power to make things difficult for you.' He gave Ron a malicious smile and glided back to the Ravenclaw table, where he immediately started flirting with Padma Patil.

'What a...that...that cretin!' Hermione hissed.

'You want me to pound him, 'Mione?' Ron asked, glaring at Eddie darkly. 'Because, Head Boy or not, I've been dying to pound him since the day I met him. It'd be really satisfying, that.'

'No!' said Hermione quickly. 'Just forget about him. He's nothing but a sleaze.'

'You finally noticed,' said Ron dryly.

'I knew that,' said Hermione defensively.

'Whatever you say,' said Ron, smiling at her and shaking her head. She blushed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later Ron and Hermione were in the common room. Ron was trying to finish another Potions essay. Harry had turned in early, exhausted from his visions earlier that evening. Hermione had taken over the table in the corner of the room, and it was covered with stacks upon stacks of books that she had checked out from the library. She had decided to embark on a mission to find the mystery book Voldemort was after.

'The book has both "poison and cure",' she said in a slightly fevered voice. 'That has to mean it has a potion or a spell in it that will make the disease do what he wants it to do and cure those he doesn't want to get sick.' She was now flipping through Moste Potente Potions but very quickly slammed the book shut.

'Nothing,' she said in frustration. 'Plenty of poisons and their antidotes but nothing to connect it with a plague or disease that can wipe out whole countries.'

'Maybe the book's in the Restricted Section,' Ron suggested. 'You could get a note from McGonagall.'

'Already got one,' she said. 'I spoke with her just after dinner. We're supposed to be telling her or Dumbledore or Snape about what Harry's seeing, remember? Anyway, she's keen on me to find out and she told me she'd get the information to Dumbledore. They must be doing something with it for the Order.'

The next day Hermione spent every spare minute in the library. She was, she told Harry and Ron, going to find that book if she had to read every book in there to do it.

'She's serious, too,' said Ron as he and Harry began flipping through a few books of their own. They were all now in the common room. Harry sat in a plush chair next to the roaring fire, and Ron and Hermione occupied the sofa.

'Why doesn't Voldemort use something like smallpox?' Harry suggested, his eyes buried in Pestilence Through the Ages. 'That's really lethal.'

'I thought about that,' said Hermione. 'But to be honest I keep going back to what Ron said. About the Black Plague. And Wormtail.'

'Really?' said Ron, surprised. He was quite sure his theory, which at the time seemed pretty good, had been dismissed.

'Yes,' said Hermione. 'But I don't have any proof. There's just those few convenient coincidences. Of course, we'd know for sure if we could ever find. that damn book!'

Hermione had taken to swearing rather frequently in recent weeks.

Harry turned in soon after, once again very tired, but Ron and Hermione continued their research. Or they tried to. Ron was bleary-eyed and struggling to keep his eyes open at this point and he was on the verge of turning in himself when Hermione leaned over to him and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

'What was that for?' said Ron, forgetting for a moment how tired he was.

Hermione blushed. 'Well, aren't you sick of looking at this stuff?'

'Yes,' said Ron at once.

'So am I,' said Hermione, closing her book firmly and setting it on the coffee table. She gave him an expectant look.

''Mione, um, I'm kind of tired,' said Ron. Well, he was. Unlike her, reading didn't exactly fill him with excitement.

'Oh,' said Hermione, leaning in and kissing him softly on the lips. 'Are you sure?'

'Yeah,' he said, but he wasn't sure he really meant it. 'And...uh, reading about diseases doesn't really...put me in the mood...' His voice trailed off when she started to kiss his jaw, very lightly. Whoa.

Ron WAS tired but as was usual for him since the day they'd first kissed on the staircase, hormones trumped exhaustion.

'Never mind,' he said, and he kissed her.

Their kissing became more intense and Hermione lay back on the sofa and pulled him down with her. Whoa. They kissed like that for a while and Ron tried very hard not to let his hands wander but they just seemed to want to, so they did, just a little. He almost jumped out of his own skin when--bloody hell--her hands started to wander just a little, too...

'I've got it!'

Ron yanked his lips away from Hermione's, yanked his hand away from a particular part of her body; Hermione, in turn, shot up and her momentum caused Ron to tumble right off the sofa. He landed hard on his backside.

'What?' Ron and Hermione said together, feeling very embarrassed and Ron feeling extremely frustrated.

Whatever he's 'got,' Ron thought, had better be really bloody good. He shook his head and rubbed

Harry came hurtling down the spiral stairs in a kind of frenzy. He was in his pyjamas, his hair was sticking up all over the place, his glasses were askew on his nose, he was very pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He looked as though he'd just awoken from a very bad dream.

'I know what book Voldemort is looking for.'