The Final Reckoning

Chapter Twenty-Six: Ciphers

The talk of Hogwarts that week was of almost nothing but the D.A. meeting. A few of the Ravenclaws started a betting pool to see who would win in a duel between Professor Hopkirk and Hermione; the pool quickly died when Hermione promised detentions to anyone caught betting on it and Hopkirk announced in Defence lesson on Thursday that she had no intention of ever duelling with a student in any setting. She seemed not to be counting her very brief skirmish with Neville as an actual duel.

The other subject, of course, was Draco Malfoy. Theodore Nott spent four days in the hospital wing recovering from his injuries; Malfoy had managed to use six nasty curses on him before the other boy was able to send up red sparks from his wand. Malfoy, for his part, was almost never seen at mealtimes anymore, and Harry could only imagine what his detention with Professor Hopkirk might entail. But the school was buzzing with the news of the dissension going on in Slytherin House. Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass seemed particularly annoyed with all the chatter; they had been trying so hard to put a positive spin on their house, but it appeared that the newfound rivalry between Malfoy and his old cronies was simply too juicy to ignore.

Harry and Daphne had reached a kind of understanding; he knew he'd never date her again but he found that he couldn't help but like her company all the same. They found time to chat casually on occasion, and as the days passed Harry stopped thinking about how strange it was to be friends with a Slytherin. Ron and Hermione, too, appeared to like Daphne well enough. Blaise Zabini was a bit more aloof and harder to read, but according to Hermione, he was making quite an effort in their prefect meetings--which were, according to Ron, far too frequent and boring to be believed--to be helpful and supportive.

In the meantime lessons went on. Ron and Hermione announced that they and the prefects had planned a ball for Halloween. Harry held Quidditch practices three nights a week; they were meant to play Slytherin but with the hostility amongst Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott--who came out of hospital over the weekend--Harry had to wonder just what sort of match it would turn into.

'Maybe Crabbe and Goyle'll try and knock Malfoy off his broom instead,' Ron suggested.

Ron and Harry had worked out a new strategy for the Chasers, which involved them flying in a kind of figure eight formation; it cut down on the speed of flight but because the three Chasers were so quick on their brooms, and so small, they were able to manoeuvre the formation easily and pass more frequently, thus creating more confusion.

In the interim, Ron continued to work with Firenze; he'd had visions but none had been like the one he'd had about the attack in Bulgaria. Mostly the visions were of people he'd never seen before. Ginny continued to work with Mrs. Tonks, whom Harry hadn't seen since the night he'd met her. Harry and Ginny fell back into their easy companionship, which pleased him a great deal, but she was still maintaining a bit of distance between them. Hermione stopped trying to crack what she had dubbed the Potter Conundrum--the codes on the many pieces of parchment. This frustrated Harry a bit, but she thought that perhaps she needed to step away from it for a little while.

Instead, she said, she thought she'd get back to her research on 'blood issues' to see if there was anything to be found that might weaken Voldemort.

Harry moved through his parents' letters; he was now in the period just before their wedding, and though the letters were often funny and quite romantic, they told him nothing practical.

It was the Wednesday before Hogsmeade visit when another wrinkle was added to Harry's already wrinkled life.

It happened at dinner. Luna Lovegood joined their table and sat next to Neville. She wore her huge radish earrings but for some reason nobody was sniggering about them anymore. She and Neville quickly got lost in each other for a while, but when pudding arrived, and Harry was just going to ask about this Halloween ball, Luna broke in and said, 'So, Harry, are we going to work on wandless magic or not?'

Harry nearly spat out his treacle tart.

'Sorry?' he said, confused.

'You don't remember,' said Luna, shaking her head. She glanced at Neville. 'He doesn't remember,' she said to him.

'Remember what?' Harry asked, wishing Luna would get to the point.

'The meeting,' said Luna. 'With Dumbledore. He asked that I work with you on wandless magic.'

Harry remembered, and he felt a slight sinking in his stomach. He liked Luna well enough and didn't mind working with her, but the thought of the extra workload, on top of all he was dealing with, didn't appeal to him.

'Oh, right,' he managed. 'Sure.'

'Tonight, after dinner?' Luna suggested.

'Can't,' said Harry. 'Quidditch practice.'

'Tomorrow after dinner, in Professor McGonagall's classroom?'

Harry hesitated, but then nodded. 'Tomorrow, after dinner.'

'Very well,' said Luna. 'I'm going to the library now. Shall I see you soon, Neville?'

'Yeah,' said Neville, smiling at her with an unmistakably romantic gleam in his eyes. She bent and kissed him on the cheek and walked away, her radish earrings swinging.

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

Next day brought more challenges. In Defence Professor Hopkirk announced that it was past time for them to start learning how to throw off the Imperius Curse.

Hermione glared at the professor but said nothing; after that first D.A. meeting, in which she'd blown up at Hopkirk, Hermione had become rather quiet about the Defence professor. Harry assumed that Ron had managed to calm her down, and that Hermione herself had realized that although Hopkirk was an abhorrent individual, her lessons were nonetheless cruelly necessary. Still, Harry couldn't help noticing that in recent days Hermione had seemed quite tense. Ron might be keeping her calm for now, but Harry wondered when the blow up would occur.

'I'll need a volunteer,' said Professor Hopkirk sleekly. She turned her eyes on a group of Ravenclaws. 'Ah. Mr. Boot, how about you?'

Terry Boot flushed and said, 'Er, okay.'

'Come up here,' said Hopkirk, gesturing with her left hand, in which she held her wand.

Terry swallowed and walked to the centre of the room, just in front of the raised dais upon which Hopkirk's desk stood. Professor Hopkirk smiled at Terry and licked her lips; Harry shuddered and was grateful beyond belief that it wasn't him up there.

'Are you nervous, Mr. Boot?' Professor Hopkirk asked.

'Yeah,' said Terry.

'Your honesty is refreshing,' she said. 'I'm going to place the Imperius Curse upon you, after which I am going to order you do certain things. You are going resist my commands. Understood?'

Terry said nothing; he simply nodded. He looked utterly terrified, and yet he couldn't seem to take his eyes off Professor. Harry felt the familiar sticky heat and closed his eyes for a moment; it was disgusting to feel aroused by her, and yet there was no helping it.

Before Harry had a chance to reflect further on this, he heard Hopkirk's voice ring out with a curse.

'Imperio!' A jet of light struck Terry in the chest, and at once his face went slack and his shoulders slumped; his limbs appeared to be almost dead weight, and Harry wondered how he was even standing up. Professor Hopkirk took a step toward Terry and spoke.

'Tell me your name,' she ordered.

'T-Terry,' Terry said, and his voice sounded thick, almost like he'd had a bit too much to drink.

'No!' Hopkirk snapped. 'You give in too easily.'

Terry blinked and let out a breath; the entire classroom was silent, watching the proceedings with wide eyes.

'Resist, Mr. Boot,' said Hopkirk, her pale eyes going even brighter, even icier. She licked her lips again.

'Tell me your name,' she said again, her voice a low growl.

Terry opened his mouth to speak, but he blinked again, and his eyes cleared for a moment, and suddenly his body began to tremble and his forehead broke out into a sweat.

'Tell me your name,' Hopkirk repeated, slowly, drawing out each syllable like some sickening caress.

Terry groaned and looked at Hopkirk in the eye.

'N-No!' he barked, and suddenly there was a rush of energy in the room as the curse lifted off him. The whole room gasped as one and Terry stumbled. He was sweating and panting from the exertion of throwing off the curse.

Hopkirk looked at him appraisingly for a moment, and then smiled.

'Not bad, Mr. Boot, ten points to Ravenclaw,' she said, as he looked up at her with a mixture of contempt and admiration. 'A fair start, anyway,' she added. 'Who's next? Ah, of course. Miss Granger.'

'Hermione,' Ron and Harry whispered together, but she brushed Ron's hand from her arm and stepped forward.

'Well,' said Professor Hopkirk, as Hermione took a position in the centre of the room, 'are you ready?'

'Yes,' said Hermione coldly, her eyes boring into Hopkirk's. Hopkirk's pink upper lip curled into a sinister smile and she pointed her wand at Hermione's chest.

Almost casually, the professor said, 'Imperio.'

The spell struck Hermione hard and she staggered for a moment, and Harry wondered if Hopkirk was somehow using a stronger version of the curse; he wouldn't put it past her.

'Tell me your name,' said Hopkirk.

Hermione, whose body was limp and face slack, looked stupidly at the Professor for a moment, but almost at once Harry could see her resisting; she clenched her fists.

'Tell me your name,' Hopkirk repeated, raising her voice.

Still, Hermione was silent; she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and her lip trembled, as though she wanted to speak, and yet she held back. She wasn't throwing off the curse yet, but she was resisting all the same.

Ron watched it all with his face screwed up in concern; his hands were worrying the front of his robes.

Professor Hopkirk's smile became wider. 'I believe I need a change of tactics for you, Miss Granger,' she said. 'Very well.' She paused. 'Kneel down. And lick my shoe.'

'That's not--' Ron began furiously.

'Silence, Mr. Weasley!' Hopkirk hissed, throwing him a glare, and for the briefest moment, Harry and Ron saw it: her eyes changed. For a flash of a second her ice blue eyes burned red, and a rush of heat, followed by a wave of cold, raced past them.

'What the hell...' Harry muttered under his breath.

'Hermione...' Ron whispered, watching as she stood in front of Professor Hopkirk.

Hermione was shaking now, almost violently.

'Kneel, Miss Granger!' Professor Hopkirk said forcefully. 'Kneel and lick my shoe.'

Hermione gave a kind of squeak in her throat and her knees started to bend.

'Don't!' Ron burst out, without thinking, but this time, Hopkirk ignored him. Hermione stopped halfway down, her legs shaking with the effort of standing with her knees bent.

'Kneel, Miss Granger!' Professor Hopkirk yelled, her voice booming throughout the room.

Hermione's eyes began to leak tears, and there was sweat pouring down her face. Her knees buckled again, just slightly, but suddenly she let out a yell that seemed to start deep within her belly and cried, 'NO!'

The curse didn't lift off her so much as explode; the force of the expelled curse sent a ripple through the room. Hermione let out a huge breath and collapsed to her knees; Ron was on his feet and helping her up in the next instant.

'Hermione,' Ron whispered urgently, but his voice echoed through the room in the awed silence. 'Are you okay?'

'Fine,' Hermione gasped, and she clung to Ron but looked up defiantly at Professor Hopkirk. Hopkirk regarded her with a cool and admiring gaze.

'Well done, Miss Granger,' she said. 'Twenty points to Gryffindor.'

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

Five more students were subjected to the Imperius Curse; Lisa Turpin and Mandy Brocklehurst both threw off the curse but only after several tries. Neville threw it off after one abortive first attempt. Seamus wasn't able to throw it off at all, and cost Gryffindor half the points that Hermione had earned them, but the points were earned right back, and twenty more besides, when Harry went up and was able to throw off the curse almost as soon as Professor Hopkirk threw it.

'All of you should be at Potter's level,' said Hopkirk, and she assigned them an essay on the physiological and psychological properties of the Imperius Curse, as well as a reading portion on Blood Clotting Curses, a nefarious type of blood clotting charm that, instead of helping to heal a wound, instead caused whole pints worth of blood within a person's body to coagulate and kill. But through the whole of the lesson, from the moment Hermione sat down after her own turn with Hopkirk and the Imperius Curse, Harry knew Ron was seething, and it was hard to tell if he was angrier at Hopkirk for putting Hermione through what could have been something horribly humiliating, or Hermione for so deliberately baiting Professor Hopkirk.

'What the hell were you doing?' Ron hissed at Hermione, the moment the lesson ended and they were out in the corridors. They had stopped walking even before they started. Harry bit his lip and lingered nearby, ready to step in if the row got too bad.

'I was throwing off the Imperius Curse, Ron, what did it look like?' said Hermione impatiently.

'Dammit, Hermione!' Ron said angrily. 'What are you trying to prove, anyway? What if she had succeeded and you'd...you'd licked her bloody shoe?'

'She didn't succeed!' said Hermione hotly. 'I won, Ron. I threw off the curse. I beat her!'

'Is that was this is about?' Ron asked, shaking his head. 'Putting one over on her?'

'You were right, Ron,' said Hermione fiercely. 'And you, Harry. You were both right. And she was right. Okay? There, I admit it.'

'Hermione, what does that have to do with--' Harry began.

'I am not going to be intimidated by that...that sadistic bitch,' Hermione said furiously, though she had the wherewithal to keep her voice down. 'If she thinks she's going to scare me anymore....' Her voice trailed off for a moment, and suddenly she started to walk, very briskly, so briskly that even Ron, with his long legs, had to rush to keep up.

'Thinks she's so perfect,' Hermione was muttering furiously. 'Thinks she knows everything about defence just because she went to Durmstrang. I've fought Death Eaters! Has the gall to think I don't care about whether students can protect themselves...why else am I Head Girl? Thinks there's actually a spell that can deflect the Killing Curse--'

'Well, there is,' said Harry.

'Harry!' said Hermione angrily. 'That's ridiculous, of course there isn't!'

'How do you explain Neville, then?' said Ron.

'A fluke, obviously!' said Hermione. 'Some...unknown magical fluke of some kind.'

'Hermione, I deflected a Killing Curse, too,' said Harry, grabbing her by the arm to stop her from walking.

'What?' said Hermione, stopping in her tracks.

'At the Riddle House,' said Harry. 'Voldemort threw a Killing Curse at Susan. I used a Shield Charm and...the curse bounced off it.'

'I don't...did you tell me this?' said Hermione.

'I don't remember,' said Harry.

'I don't either,' said Hermione, and she groaned and put her head in her hands. 'Dammit...no, it's okay,' she said quickly, when Ron put a hand on her shoulder. 'I'll just add that to the list but...well, Harry, you did cause the Killing Curse to rebound onto Voldemort when you were a baby; you have the protection of your mum's blood. Maybe that's why you were able to deflect it.'

'I'd believe that if I hadn't seen Neville do it, too,' said Harry.

'Maybe Hopkirk invented that anti-Killing Shield Charm,' Ron suggested. 'Maybe that's why we've never heard of it. She could have been working on it before she came to work here--'

'Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ron,' said Hermione wearily. 'She's intelligent but she's not that brilliant. It takes years and years and a tremendous amount of skill to actually invent a charm.'

'Just a suggestion,' said Ron, a bit defensively.

Hermione sighed and gave him an apologetic look. 'I'm sorry,' she said at once, and she put a hand on his cheek. 'I shouldn't bite your head off. I'm just...I feel like I need a holiday.' She sighed again and rubbed at her eyes.

'Hermione...' said Ron slowly. 'You have to take care of yourself--'

'I know,' said Hermione quickly, smiling up at him. 'You know, I think I'll have a nap before Transfiguration. Can you save me a bit of lunch, Ron?'

'Okay,' said Ron, looking at her with concern. She ignored the look but kissed him quickly on the lips and turned down the corridor, heading in the direction of her room.

'What's going with her, Ron?' Harry asked.

'She's been like this since the first D.A. meeting,' said Ron. 'Every spare minute she spends in the library.'

'That's new?' said Harry dryly, but his smirk faded when he saw the look on Ron's face.

'This is different,' said Ron. 'Remember in third year, how she was a mess because of that Time Turner? It's like that, only I know she's not using a Time Turner this year. She's just...running herself ragged, and I keep telling her to slow down but she won't listen...' Ron's voice trailed off and he let out a sigh, and Harry realized that he was genuinely worried.

'I take it your...usual methods of getting her to relax aren't working?' said Harry gently, grinning. Ron laughed half-heartedly and grinned weakly.

'Nope,' he said, shrugging. 'Well, she hasn't really made any time for that since...since her birthday.'

'That was a week and a half ago,' said Harry.

'Yeah,' said Ron glumly. 'And just so you know, my meditating is top notch at the moment.'

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

Harry had little time to dwell on Hermione once Transfiguration began. She came back and looked a bit refreshed from her nap, at least, and in a better mood; she gave Harry a quick smile and then gave another to Ron that was entirely different, the kind of smile a girl gives only to her boyfriend. Ron smiled back, and at least for the moment, things seemed to be better.

That changed the moment Professor McGonagall charged into the room. That day's lesson was devoted to Aging Spells.

The lesson went on without any major incident. Harry paired up with Neville and had a laugh over seventy-year-old Neville's bald pate and seventy-year-old Harry's prominent pot belly. Ron and Hermione took turns on each other as well.

Ron worked the spell on Hermione first, after a few abortive attempts. When the spell worked Hermione changed; her smooth skin began to wrinkle; her eyes drooped slightly; her hips widened a bit, and her brown, bushy hair became grey, bushy hair.

'Wow,' said Ron, admiring the effect, as Hermione folded her arms over her chest.

'What?' said Hermione.

'You look really good for an old woman,' said Ron, his eyes wide.

'Really?' said Hermione doubtfully, and she reached up a wrinkled, liver-spotted hand to smooth down her frizzy hair; the effort was futile.

'Yeah,' said Ron, smiling. 'Our grandkids are going to brag about how pretty their gran is...' His voice trailed off and his ears went pink, and Hermione let out a little squeak.

'Grandkids?' said Harry, looking from one to the other. Ron and Hermione suddenly both looked horribly embarrassed.

'Yeah,' Ron said finally, laughing sheepishly. 'You know...hypothetically speaking.'

'Of course,' said Hermione, biting her lip. 'Er...your turn, Ron.'

She performed the Aging Spell on him, and Ron became old before their very eyes. He became thinner again--almost as he had been when he was fifteen--and his shoulders stooped; his brilliant red hair went white and covered his head in a thick halo.

'I've still got my hair,' said Ron, sounding very pleased about this as he ran his hand through the white strands. 'I thought I'd go bald like Dad.'

'You look very distinguished,' said Hermione, almost shyly. The two of them were looking at each other as though they had just started going out. Harry wondered about Ron's comment regarding grandkids, whether it was something purely off-hand or...

No way. He can't be thinking of...of that now. He's only seventeen.

Harry blinked and strove to break the tension. He noticed Ron's almost concave stomach and frowned.

'How come you don't have a belly?' Harry grumbled, poking at his own fleshy, swollen middle.

'It's my incredibly fast embolism,' said Ron.

'Metabolism,' Hermione corrected. 'Does anyone else's back really hurt?'

'Mine does,' said Parvati, whose black hair was salt-and-pepper grey and whose eyes were crinkled, but she was still quite beautiful.

'What I want to know is,' said Seamus, whose head was mostly covered in silver hair but for a small bald patch in back, 'is if I'll still be able to get it up.'

'Seamus, really, can't you think of anything else?' said Old Lavender, whose slender body was almost painfully thin, and whose hands were slightly gnarled from what appeared to be arthritis. 'Ow,' she said, flexing her knuckles. 'My joints hurt.'

'Hang on...' Ron muttered, as he scratched his ear. 'Do I have hair in my ear?'

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

Harry, Ron and Hermione left the lesson fully back to their normal, seventeen year old selves.

'Interesting lesson,' said Hermione; her tone of voice suggesting she was aiming for an absent tone, but her eyes darted to Ron quickly, and then forward.

'Yeah,' said Ron.

Harry looked at them again and shook his head; then he noticed Ron and Hermione fall back slightly. They were looking at each other as though nobody else was around.

'Er, hello?' said Harry. 'Ron?'

Ron looked up and strode over to Harry, pulling him aside.

'Do you mind grabbing us a bit of food at dinner?' Ron asked.

'Skipping it, are you?' said Harry, amused, as Hermione pursed her lips and went slightly pink in the cheeks.

Ron looked back at Hermione for a moment, who was looking at him with a slightly awed expression on her face.

'Yeah,' he said.

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

'That was better, Harry,' said Luna, as she looked up at him from her position on the floor.

'Are you okay?' he asked, holding out his hand to her to help her up.

'Fine,' said Luna breezily. 'The Cushioning Charm is working. You're quite good at wandless magic, you know.'

'I guess,' said Harry doubtfully, as she took his hand and let him help her from the floor.

They'd been working solidly for the past half hour; Luna was putting him through his paces. Twice she'd demonstrated her own skill at the Defensive Charge, sending him hurtling clear across the room. Harry's own skill was far weaker; thus far the best he'd been able to do was simply to knock her down.

'You don't sound convinced,' said Luna perceptively.

'I dunno,' said Harry. 'I just...it'd be nice to be able to toss someone across a room.'

Luna smiled beatifically. 'Yes, well, it's all very well and good but you only really need to knock your opponent down in order to gain an advantage, and you're able to do that now.'

Harry shrugged, and they continued for another half hour. By the end of it Harry was sweaty and tired and they were both dishevelled, but he had managed finally to throw Luna a few feet away with the Defensive Charge. They parted ways--Luna gave him an oddly formal handshake--at just past eight o'clock.

Harry returned to the dormitory, took a quick shower, and headed down to the common room to study. There were only a few third years sitting over in a corner, working on homework, but he found Ron there, setting up his books on the coffee table and sitting on the sofa.

'Hey,' said Harry, putting his own books down heavily on the coffee table. 'Where's Hermione?'

'Library,' said Ron, pulling out a piece of parchment.

'Again?' said Harry. 'Didn't you two, er...you know?'

'Yeah,' said Ron, shrugging.

'Is everything okay, Ron?' Harry asked.

'I guess,' said Ron, in a low voice. 'I mean...we were...you know, and it was really amazing and...then it was over and I thought she might want to...you know, stay a while, only she jumped up and said "Of course!" and got dressed and told me she was going to the library and practically ran out of my room.'

'And that's weird,' said Harry, though he was not asking a question.

'Well, yes and no,' said Ron. 'I mean, you know how she is, she gets some brilliant idea and she's always running off to the library without explaining herself. Only this time it was right after...you know. I mean, what if she was thinking about...whatever brilliant idea she was thinking about instead of...what we were doing? That can't be good, can it?'

Harry started laughing.

'What?'

'Never mind,' said Harry, shaking his head.

'No, tell me,' said Ron insistently. 'What did you--'

'Harry!'

Hermione's voice startled both boys and they turned round to see her standing there, with her hair completely wild and her eyes flashing. She was panting and looked as if she'd been sprinting through the corridors of the castle.

'What?' said Ron and Harry together.

She crossed over to them, glancing briefly at the third-years. They were looking at Hermione with interest, but when she gave them a hard look they all quickly turned their attention back to their homework.

'What?' said Harry.

'I solved them,' she said. 'I broke the codes.'

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

They entered Ron's room and Ron sealed the door shut behind them.

'Tell me,' said Harry at once, staring at Hermione as he sat down on Ron's desk chair, and Ron sat on the bed.

'Okay,' said Hermione, taking a deep breath. Harry couldn't remember the last time she looked this thrilled about something; her brown eyes were sparkling and her hair was crackling with energy. For a brief moment, he suddenly understood why Ron was so taken with her. She did look pretty--beautiful, even--when she was in the throes of joy over some new discovery. It struck Harry as funny that he'd never seen it before, and he smiled in spite of himself.

'The reason it took so long is I was going about it all wrong,' Hermione said, and she began to pace as she spoke very fast. 'When you try to break down codes you have to look for patterns. It's like learning a whole different language, really. Only I was working the wrong way around, I figured the codes had to be really, really complex if your mum was doing some sort of secret work for the Ministry. So I picked out the most complex code configurations I could come up with and looked up all these different code types--Muggle and magic--and I kept trying to find a match, and it was so frustrating because I'd be looking at one of the coded messages and it would work up to a point but then I'd hit some huge snag and have to start all over again. It never occurred to me that the codes might actually be a lot simpler, which is silly, of course, I mean, all I had to do was apply the principal of Occam's Razor--'

'The what razor?' said Harry.

'Hermione,' said Ron, holding up his hands, 'slow down, love, and speak English.'

'Right,' said Hermione. 'So, Occam's Razor...well, never mind about that. So then I started looking at simple codes, older codes. And remember how I said I was taking a break from looking at the codes, because I was overloading myself? Well, it wasn't really working for me because even though I wasn't actively working on the codes I couldn't stop thinking about them and it was driving me mad--that's why I've been in such a foul mood lately--well, that's not the only reason, that Hopkirk woman is--'

'Hermione,' said Harry and Ron together.

'Right,' she said, not missing a beat. 'So my strategy to not work on the codes wasn't working because I kept thinking about only tonight when--'

She broke off for a moment, her cheeks going pink. 'When I came back here to...be alone with Ron and...and afterwards it just hit me like a ton of bricks. Julius Caesar.'

Ron and Harry stared at her, and then at each other, and back at her.

'What?' they both said finally.

'Julius Caesar!' said Hermione. 'The codes. They were invented by Julius Caesar.'

'Oh, I knew that,' said Ron, smirking at her fondly.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and reached into her school bag. She pulled out a piece of parchment.

'That's not all of it,' she said. 'The codes have a magical protection on them that's really quite brilliant. As near as I can guess, the Concealment Charm on it has some kind of sensor that determines whether a person reading it has good or bad intentions. It took me some time to get past the charm but when I did, the messages re-arranged themselves, only they were still in code.'

She shoved the piece of parchment at Harry.

'Look at that,' she said. 'Tell me what you see.'

Harry looked at her for a moment, and then at the parchment. He was completely baffled, and had no clue what he was supposed to be looking at. The parchment red:

T R A E O E A A P C

O K C R N L N D A L

G R K E T E G O M O

B E P D A V U N G S

L S O C I E E T E E

O U S E N L N G T R

O L I L T S L I T L

D T T L R O A V I I

W S I S A F M E N L

O B V C C S I U G Y

'I see letters,' said Harry. 'I don't...'

'Look again, Harry,' said Hermione. 'Look harder. Do you notice anything strange?'

'Yeah, the letters make no sense, they don't form words,' said Harry impatiently.

'No,' said Hermione. 'Look, count the letters on the first line from left to right.'

By now Ron was standing behind him, looking over his shoulder at the parchment. Harry gave Hermione a confused look but then began to count the letters across the top of the page.

'Ten,' he said.

'Count the next row,' Hermione said sharply, and Harry did.

'Ten again,' said Harry. 'So?'

'Now count the letters from top to bottom, starting on the left side,' said Hermione.

He counted the far-left letters in each row, going down in a column.

'Ten,' he said.

'A perfect square,' said Hermione. 'It's a perfect square cipher box. Caesar would write secret messages but they always had a perfect square number of letters in them: sixteen, twenty-five, sixty-four. This message has a hundred letters. Ten times ten.'

'Okay,' said Harry slowly, looking over the message. 'I see that, but I don't see a message that makes any sense.'

'That's because you're reading it from left to right,' said Hermione. 'Look at the letters again, top to bottom, starting at far left. Read downward.'

Harry and Ron both obeyed, Harry reading out loud.

'T, O, G, B, L, O, O, D, W, O...' said Harry, and he paused. 'Wait a minute.'

He read the letters down again.

'Read the next column,' said Hermione.

'R, K, R, E, S, U, L, T, S, B...' Harry's voice trailed. 'Holy shit.'

'You see it?' she said breathlessly.

Harry kept reading; his heart was pounding, and suddenly the message on the page became clear as day. He started to read aloud.

'"To G",' he read slowly. '"Blood work results back. Positive. Red cells contain trace levels of"...what--'

'Sanguen lamia,' said Hermione. 'I'll tell you what it means in a second. Go on.'

'"Sanguen lamia",' Harry repeated, continuing. 'Don't give up. Am getting closer.' He sat back in the chair and read the final word in the message, his stomach swooping. 'Lily.'

Ron looked completely flummoxed. 'What's it mean?' he asked.

Hermione was focused on Harry. 'Your mother wrote that message. The recipient of that message must have had blood tests done; maybe your mum ran them. The test result shows that this person "G", or perhaps someone related to G...has vampire blood. Sanguen lamia is vampire blood.'

Harry and Ron stared at Hermione, and for a moment there was silence as she allowed the information to sink in.

'Why...' Harry said, struggling to speak, 'why would my mum be doing blood tests? Does that...have anything to do with Voldemort?'

'I don't know, Harry,' she said. 'But for whatever reason, your mum did some blood tests, and she's telling this person not to give up, that she's getting closer. To something, I don't know what it was.'

'Who's "G"?' said Harry.

'There is one possibility, assuming those test results were for G and not some relative or friend of G's,' said Hermione. 'Professor Griselda Hopkirk.'

This time the silence went on for a full minute.

'You think my mum was running blood tests on Hopkirk?'

'I don't know,' Hermione admitted. 'Look, I've only just had time to figure out the first few messages at the moment. Maybe when we go through the rest of them it'll turn out to be nothing, but...I have this feeling, Harry. About Hopkirk. And no, it's not because I can't stand her,' she added, when Ron opened his mouth to say something.

'What feeling?' Harry asked.

'Remember what Dumbledore said?' said Hermione. 'How he hired Hopkirk to help you? Why her, specifically? Surely there are other people as skilled in defence as she is. Surely Dumbledore could have found someone as good as she is.'

'I dunno,' said Harry. 'Hopkirk's scary as all hell but she really knows her stuff.'

'But her methods, Harry,' said Hermione. 'I know the circumstances are...are really dangerous right now and rules have to be bent but still...'

She trailed off and began to pace again, fretfully.

'What's wrong, love?' Ron asked.

'I reported her,' said Hermione. 'Hopkirk, I mean. To Professor McGonagall.'

Harry and Ron sucked in their breaths.

'Hermione--' Ron began.

'Nothing happened,' said Hermione. 'Don't you see? Hopkirk threw a Killing Curse at Neville and nothing happened. When I told McGonagall about it she said she would speak to Hopkirk but there was no way she could sack her or even suspend her. She said it was vital that Hopkirk stay. I tried to get her to tell me why but she said it was none of my business. McGonagall never would have said that about just anyone.'

Hermione took a breath. 'I think Dumbledore hired her because she knew your mum. I think...your mum was working with Hopkirk on something. Something big. Something to defeat Voldemort, once and for all.'

Again, Harry gawped at Hermione; Ron's mouth was hanging open.

'You got all this,' said Harry, 'from one vague message my mum wrote to somebody she called "G"?'

'No,' said Hermione, and she picked up another piece of parchment. 'Look at this one.'

Harry did.

T U S E N L L E

O N S L C A E D

L A B L O R T E

T S L S N G E D

E U O D T E S G

S C O I A S T R

T C D E C C N I

R E C O T A E S

After a few minutes of reading, in which Harry's eyes began to hurt, he read the message aloud.

'"To L, test run success. Blood cells die on contact. Large scale test needed, Gris".'

'Short for Griselda?' said Hermione.

'Have you translated the rest of these?' Harry asked.

'Not yet,' she said tiredly. 'Just those two. And not all of them are the perfect square configuration, either. Some use the Caesar Shift alphabet--'

'The what?' said Ron.

'It's where D stands in for A, E for B...the letters shift three over,' said Hermione. 'So in a Caesar Shift alphabet, "FDW" actually spells "cat".'

'Wow,' said Ron, looking at her in awe. 'That's...you're amazing, Hermione.'

She smiled and said, 'Anyway, before we get to translating them all, I need to just go back and make sure which ones use the perfect square and which use the alphabet shift, and some might even use both, which is quite a headache. I could be wrong, of course. Maybe this "G" person isn't Hopkirk at all, or maybe "G" is Hopkirk but the blood test results are for a friend or relative of hers.'

'The codes,' said Harry. 'It's so simple. If it were really that secret why wouldn't my mum use something more complex?'

'They're Muggle codes, Harry,' said Hermione. 'Your mum must have figured it was a safe system to use; who would suspect a Muggle code?'

Harry looked up at her; he felt like his brain was alternately frozen and burning up.

'How soon?' he asked. 'I mean...don't kill yourself but...how soon can you figure out...what's what?'

'Middle of the week, next week,' she said. 'We've got the weekend off, Ron and me, I mean, so no patrols tomorrow night. Although...there's Hogsmeade tomorrow.'

'Don't skip that,' said Harry. 'I'm sorry, I must sound really demanding or something.'

'It's okay,' said Hermione.

'I guess...we shouldn't say anything to Hopkirk or anyone else until we know for sure what's what,' said Harry. 'If it's true she has vampire blood--'

'If there's only trace amounts in her red cell count,' said Hermione, 'that could account for the vampire-like traits she has, but still explain why she's able to eat food and go outside during the day. I saw her walking across the grounds to the greenhouses the other day and she wasn't bothered too much by the sun.'

'But that doesn't explain all of it?' said Ron. 'All of...her?'

'I don't know,' said Hermione. 'I'd put researching her off because I didn't think it had any bearing but now...I'm definitely going back to that.'

'Later,' said Harry firmly. 'I mean it, Hermione. Don't kill yourself. Ron's right, you need to take care of yourself.'

She nodded sheepishly. 'I do feel better now, since I solved those codes, anyway.'

Harry smirked. 'Is that the only reason?'

'Harry,' Ron groaned.

'No,' said Hermione, lifting her chin, and suddenly she crossed to Ron and sat down in his lap. When she spoke her voice was as prim as Professor McGonagall's. 'As a matter of fact I've come to realize that shagging greatly improves my mental focus. I've been thinking, we have to shag more often, Ron. Perhaps we should go back to the schedule we were keeping our first week back.'

Ron made a sound halfway between a choked cough and a laugh.

'Okay,' he said, trying very hard not to look delighted by the prospect.

'That is, if it won't interfere with your Seer training,' said Hermione.

'No,' said Ron at once.

Harry snorted. He wasn't surprised that Hermione would find some intellectual benefit to having sex, but then this just further proved Harry's theory--long forgotten until now--that girls were different from blokes in the sex department. He remembered when he and Susan were together, how he would struggle not to fall asleep afterwards, and she would be alert and awake.

Well, there's a first. You just thought about Susan without feeling like your guts were twisting inside. Almost feeling...nothing. Progress...

Hermione gave Ron a quick peck on the lips and a smile to Harry before she walked, with great dignity, out of Ron's room.

'You okay, Ron?' said Harry.

He turned to Harry. 'My girlfriend wants to shag me more often because it helps her to think better,' said Ron. 'I dunno whether to be thrilled or feel used.'

He paused, and he and Harry exchanged a long look.

'Thrilled,' they both said.