Harry Potter and the Serpent's Eye

Harry Potter and the Serpent's Eye

Chapter 5 -

Harry didn't bother changing out of his Quidditch clothes; he left his broom at the changing room entrance so Ron could take it in for him later.

He headed straight for the lake. When he looked around, he couldn't see Cho, so he sat on a bench under a tree to wait.

He let his mind wander a little then jumped when someone called his name.

"Harry?"

"Hm?" he said looking around.

Ginny stepped out from behind the tree trunk and in to view. She smiled and sat next to Harry on the bench.

"Been to the pitch, I see," she commented. Harry nodded to her obvious statement. "Do you think you are going to like being a Captain?" Ginny asked placidly. Harry laughed; Ginny looked puzzled and questioned him.

"It's funny you should say that, Ginny," he said, chuckling. She waited for him to go on, hanging on each word. "I'm not the captain."

"What?!" Ginny sounded shocked. "Oh no! Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. What happened? Did Seamus or Dean get elected or something?"

"No," Harry shook his head and smiled. "I refused to be Captain and made Ron take it up instead."

Ginny stared at him, Harry Potter, most likely the least selfish person she knew. She realised her mouth was open and closed it quickly. Then she blushed as he smiled at her, still chuckling every now and then.

"Harry?" a new voice called him.

Harry stood up and turned to see Cho smiling at him. Ginny turned to see who the new voice belonged to and she bit her lip as she saw how happy Harry seemed to be to see her.

Cho looked almost the same as the last time he had seen her, Harry thought. She was a little taller perhaps, but her pretty face hadn't changed, as though she were a china doll, always destined to look picture perfect.

As they started to walk around the lake together, Ginny slipped out of the way and wandered back up to the castle.

Harry watched her go, he was trying very hard to listen to all that Cho told him, but he had very much wanted Ginny to stay.

He felt guilty about it, but he had to admit that whatever Cho was going on about, it wasn't holding him hanging on her every word.

"Do you ever find that, Harry?" Cho asked, having stopped her flow of speech.

"Erm, yes, all the time," he replied, hoping the answer made sense. She seemed satisfied and changed on to another subject, this time Harry tried to pay more attention.

It was only when she began talking about Quidditch that Harry really seemed to wake up.

She, like Ginny, had thought he had been made Captain. He put her straight and she seemed to admire him greatly for what he had done. Harry blushed a little and shrugged, saying it was nothing.

When the afternoon had begun to wear away, Harry went back up to the castle with a spring in his step.

He walked in to the Common room a short while later to find Ron and Hermione screaming at each other from opposite sides of the room.

The other Gryffindors were making their way to the dormitories, getting out of the way.

"I can't believe you, Ron!!" Hermione screeched, looking very upset.

"But -" Ron began.

"Don't you dare interrupt me, Ron Weasley! As I was saying, I can't believe you would think that!"

Harry wondered what on earth was going on. They hadn't actually noticed he was in the room so he continued to listen, leaning back against the wall.

"Hermione, that letter-" but Ron was cut off again.

"Why would I be seeing Victor Krum when I have you, Ron?!"

"You always seemed to like him a lot!" Ron retorted.

"But I like you more than I ever liked him!!"

"Then who is that letter from - why wouldn't you let me see it?" Ron yelled.

Hermione sighed, holding up the letter. "Because it is an order form for your Christmas present," she sighed.

Ron looked shattered. He looked too sorry for words. But as he opened his mouth to apologise profusely, Hermione ran out of the room, letting the form fall to the ground at the bottom of the girl's staircase.

"Honestly," Harry sighed as Ron flopped down in an armchair, looking defeated.

Ron looked up dully. "You heard that then?" Harry nodded and sat opposite Ron silently.

Eventually, Ron sighed aloud and put his head in his hands. "I ought to trust her; I ought to have left it alone. I don't know why I reacted like that, Harry, I really don't."

"I think I know why you did," Harry said, musingly. Ron raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Because you care about her, Ron. The idea that she was still off over the moon with Krum...well, you see what I mean." Harry shrugged a little. Ron nodded slightly.

Harry now wondered if the whole Ron and Hermione relationship had fallen to nothing.

He couldn't help thinking, however, that they were meant to be together. Surely they could sort it out. He, in fact, decided he would make them sort it out, even if it was the last thing he did.

He told Ron not to worry and go to bed, then he also made his way to their dormitory, resigned to having a talk to Hermione the next morning.

When the next morning came, however, Hermione was just not there to talk to. Ron talked to Hermione, though only in overly polite ways and only when he really had to.

Harry never got round to talking to her, even over the next half week, he never managed to get her aside and talk to her properly.

Whenever she was not studying, she was busy doing something Prefectly - and Harry was getting annoyed at the whole situation. It was absolutely silly.

The classes in that half-week had been relatively unremarkable. Hermione had thrown herself into the work so she would have less time to think about Ron.

Harry noticed this, and it only hardened his resolve to talk to her. The time eventually came, when Harry lost his temper with the two of them. They were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall at dinner.

Harry sat between the previously inseparable couple while they said things such as: "Please may I have the salt, Hermione," and "Why, yes, of course you may."

It was absolutely uncanny to hear them speak this way. Harry was used to Ron throwing a few slight insults and Hermione retorting to them using big words that Ron grimaced at.

So it was that Harry threw his fork down with a clatter and said, "Enough!"

He stood up, and grabbed Hermione's hand and marched out of the hall. Hermione disentangled herself from Harry's grasp in the Entrance hall.

"Harry, stop it. What do you think you're doing?"

"What am *I* doing?" Harry asked, putting his hands on his hips and looking rather formidable, much like Mrs. Weasley could look at times. "What do you think *you* two are doing? When will you let this drop?"

"It wasn't me who started it!" Hermione said, frowning.

"You may not have started it - but who will finish it?" Harry asked, softer. Hermione bit her lip and shifted foot to foot.

"Ron cares. That's why he does the stupid things he does," Harry smiled slightly and so did Hermione.

"Yes, you're right, Harry," Hermione said, giving him a short hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Harry smiled and left up the stairs. "The next time I see you both, you had better have made up," he called back to her.

From that day, Harry found everything back to normal again.

Ron and Hermione were back to reading poetry, and classes went by easily, though the Dark Arts class had become very demanding for all except Harry.

Quidditch practices flew by, and the team became as skilled as they had been in the previous years.

Harry soon found that he had something important to do.

He had kept his mysterious little package from Diagon Alley shrunk and in his trunk, but he knew that if he waited to give it to Ron at Christmas, it would be of slightly less use than if he gave it to him earlier.

He knew that Ron would love the present. He also knew that he would perhaps feel a little uncomfortable, knowing how expensive a present it was for Harry to buy him.

Oh well, he thought. He'll just have to be okay with it. So Harry decided to give Ron his present early. He wanted it to be a big surprise, and he would prefer if he was with Ron alone so no one would be 'ooh'ing and 'ahh'ing over it. They could 'ohh' and 'ahh' later. He wanted for Ron to first see it on his own. He started to think up some plans.

In the end, he figured it would be best if he could present it to him outside so he could try it out straight away. He discreetly asked the members of the Gryffindor team to skip the early morning practice that Saturday.

That was only a week before Halloween, and the soon to follow first match of the season.

He went to bed Friday night, grinning when he thought of waking up the next day and meeting Ron at the pitch. He would be so surprised. By the time he feel asleep, he heard Ron snoring.

*~*~*

Voldemort paced the dark gloomy room, his pitch-black robes making a shuffling noise as he walked. The room was in disarray. Books, cauldrons, shelves all broken and twisted on the ground.

He had been angry; he had taken it out on the room that held no answers for him. The great doors to the room opened and Voldemort turned to see the stooped figure enter hesitantly.

"Wormtail! What have you found out?" Voldemort's cold tone sent shivers down Wormtail's spine as he approached.

"M-my Lord. It seems that the Serpent's Eye has not been causing any disturbances. It may be that the boy can't work it anymore. From what I can gather, he has shown no signs of turning to the Dark. Snape says that would take a while to happen, so we may have to wait..." Wormtail paused. Voldemort turned sharply to him.

"Wait?" he spat. "Wait? We will not wait. Either way, to Dark or to Good, I want him destroyed! You had better be watchful of your step, Wormtail; I did not help you escape from Azkaban to try my patience."

Wormtail winced and went on, shakily. "Yes, My Lord. Now what do you suggest we do, My Lord? How do you plan to get the boy, this time?"

"I have to wait before I can act, Wormtail. Did Snape not tell you of the little problem I found?" Wormtail shook his head dumbly.

"Well, from what I read -"

*~*~*

"Harry! Practice! Wake up!"

Harry cursed under his breath. That was the second time that had happened. But, he remembered, he still hadn't looked in the library for that book Voldemort had been reading.

He should do that if he wanted to know what was going on. It would have been easier if Ron had just left him to sleep for a bit though.

He felt slightly drained, and his scar burned dully on his forehead.

As Harry sat up on the edge of his bed, rubbing his scar while searching for his socks, Ron noticed what he was doing.

"Harry! Did - did you have a dream?"

"What?" Harry opened his eyes wide. "Erm, no, no I didn't," he lied.

Ron didn't reply as he bumped his head on the underside of his bed after finding Harry's socks there. Harry told Ron to go on ahead and meet the 'team'. When Ron had left, he put the small package in his pocket and left the dormitory to go for the pitch.

Outside, it was just getting light, by the time he reached the pitch Ron was looking at his watch and muttering about everyone being late.

"Harry, no one else is turning up. I told them it was today, I know I did. Have they forgotten do you think?"

"They haven't forgotten," Harry said grinning. "I told them not to come."

"What!? Harry! Why on earth would you do something like that? I don't -"

"I told them not to come because I have to give you something," Harry said, cutting him off. Ron looked puzzled.

"I would wait until Christmas," Harry said, putting his hand in his pocket, "but it would be much more useful if you have it early I think."

Ron still looked puzzled, though he was also looking mildly curious and somewhat excited. Harry pulled out the small brown thing, it looked a little like a brown cigarette at the size it was. Harry tapped it once with his wand and it grew to its proper size.

Ron, realising it was a broomstick, stared openmouthed in shock.

"Well, go on, unwrap it," Harry said nonchalantly.

Ron took hold of the broom and slowly took the paper off, hands shaking and eyes wide. If Harry thought he looked shocked at first, it was nothing to the way he looked after the paper fell away and revealed the name: Firebolt-X. Ron stood staring, finding nothing to say and nothing to do except stand gaping.

Harry sat down after a while. He wondered how long it would take for Ron to wake up.

"Oh - but - I mean - woah - Harry!" was what Ron eventually said.

Harry smiled sunnily and stifled a yawn. He really wished he had got more sleep.

"How on earth - well. I can't believe it. This is mine? For me - for keeps and everything? My very own Firebolt broomstick?" Ron looked up.

"Yes, Ron," Harry said standing up and looking over the broomstick, hovering in front of his stunned best friend.

"Oh, but, Harry, I don't know how I can ever thank you enough. I have no way to repay you," Ron bit his lip.

"Well, if you promise to ride this broomstick and make good use of it, not to mention get me out of trouble a few times, then I will consider it worth buying."

Harry wasn't sure he had ever seen Ron so happy as when he had grinned and took off on his new broom. Harry found the small bag of extras that were sold with Ron's new version of the Firebolt, and put them aside. Then he took off and joined Ron on his own Firebolt.

Harry raced Ron but only ended up tying now that they both had the same broom. Harry hovered still on his broom for a while and watched as Ron had the time of his life, shooting across the pitch and diving and turning.

Harry then thought back to his dream as he sat sideways on the broomstick. He hadn't had any pendant incidents since the train on the way to Hogwarts.

He placed his hand in his trouser pocket and found the pendant inside. It was cold to the touch but soon warmed to his hand.

He wondered vaguely how one would make it reveal the future, without waiting for it to do it on its own.

As if in answer, it glowed briefly and Harry found himself seeing Cho come on to the pitch to see him. He could tell that Ron was still speeding about on his Firebolt. He saw himself go down to land and Cho asked him if he would like to take another walk with her. He could tell that he was hesitating and then he mentioned something about having meant to go to look something up in the library. But he eventually gave in and went off to the lake with Cho.

Then he came to his senses. He shoved the Serpent's Eye back in his pocket and directed his broom to the ground. Ron came down as well; he was positively beaming.

"What you doing, Harry? Are you going so soon?" he asked.

"Well, I really want to go to the library. Look, when Cho comes round looking for me, please tell her I'll try and see her later, okay?" Harry replied.

"Did she tell you she was coming then?" Ron asked curiously.

Bother! Harry thought furiously. He'll go on about me being a Seer if I tell him she didn't.

"Um, yeah, sort of," he replied evasively. "Tell her, okay? And I'll see you later."

"Righty-ho!" Ron said cheerily. "And thank you again, Harry!" he added sincerely, grinning again. Harry nodded and left at a run, hoping he missed Cho coming to the pitch.

He did manage to miss her, and stopped off at Gryffindor tower to put his Firebolt away and change in to some other clothes before heading to the library.

Upon arriving in the ancient dusty library, he found it almost deserted. It wasn't a surprise, it was after all Saturday. He started scanning the shelves for Myths and Legends of the Wizarding World.

After half an hour, he managed to find a copy. It looked very old indeed. Harry took it carefully to one of the tables. He opened it and began to read. He was going to read it from front to back to find out what it was in this ancient volume that bothered Voldemort.

Harry found the words swimming about on the page after two solid hours of reading through the old legends, myths and folk tales.

He was starting to consider leaving the book for a while and perhaps finishing it the next day, when he saw a promising myth.

*~*~*

~The Legend of Tammera and Victus~

Victus was a powerful wizard, he was very gifted, but he chose to use his talents in the Dark Arts, his ambition for power and immortality being his driving force.

Among those who fought against him, there was Tammera.

Tammera managed to keep Victus in check for a few years in spite of her youth compared to the evil she opposed.

There was one time, however, when she did not get away unscathed from an encounter with the Dark One. He took some of her blood as he was under the impression that by drinking some of his foe's blood he would become even more powerful than he was already.

Unfortunately for him, Tammera managed to get away before he killed her.

Tammera became increasingly powerful, and managed to come out of more deadly encounters with the Dark One only to meet with him one night when she was wandless and alone.

Tammera did have a sword, as the Dark One did, however. They fought for ages.

Eventually, Tammera made a fatal move and the Dark One stabbed her, right in the heart.

But before she died, the Dark One paused in his mirth, and screamed in agony. Within a matter of seconds, the Dark One disappeared and was defeated.

The Dark One had made himself defeatable by making Tammera's blood a part of himself.

This was a magic so old, the Dark One knew not what could happen.

The world was saved by Tammera's sacrifice and the Dark One was destroyed.

*~*~*

Harry stared at the page. The hand holding the page was shaking. It was no wonder that Voldemort was concerned.

He remembered the graveyard again. He saw his stabbed arm and remembered the way Voldemort had emerged in his newly acquired body with the help of his blood.

Harry's face was as white as a sheet as he placed the volume back on the shelf it came from and walked out of the library not seeing or paying any attention to what he was doing.

He soon found his feet had taken him to a tree by the lake and so he sat, staring over the lake and feeling ill. His head hurt from all the painfully furious thinking he had been doing. He wondered if Dumbledore knew of the old legend. He wondered if Voldemort would find a way to get around the old magic's ways.

If he, Harry, died, Voldemort would as well and perhaps it would be a final end to him that time. Still, it was not surprising that Harry did not like the idea, nor that it made him feel like being sick.

He was pulled out of his thoughts abruptly when he heard his name being called.

"Harry! Harry!" It was Hermione, he thought numbly. She sat down in front of him, causing him to blink and focus on her. Ron slumped on to the ground next to her, smiling broadly.

"Harry, Ron told me -" she paused, looking suddenly concerned. "Harry! What's the matter? You look - Ron look at him." Ron looked at Harry's pale face and troubled expression.

"Harry?" he asked, waving a hand in front of him, making Harry turn to him and look at him through transparent eyes.

"Harry? What is it?" Hermione said, looking scared.

"Oh, nothing," Harry heard himself say, tonelessly.

"You look awful. Tell us what's wrong?" Ron pressed, not taking 'nothing' for an answer.

Harry found himself slowly coming out of his consuming thoughts and paid real attention to his friend's worried faces.

"Erm, are myths and legends in the Wizarding world based on fact or are they more like made-up stories?" he asked.

Ron and Hermione looked taken aback by the abrupt question and after a stunned silence it was Hermione who, unsurprisingly, answered.

"Wizarding legends and myths are usually fact, yes, but they are called legends and myths because the times they took place in are not known for certain. Why?"

"No reason, just wondered," Harry replied, his heart sinking further.

"Hmmm, well, we answered your wacky question, now will you answer us?" Ron said. "What's wrong?"

Harry shook his head, and left the lake side and headed blindly back to the castle. He had to go and think. He didn't know what to do.

*~*~*

Harry went to spend some time sitting in the owlery with Hedwig for company. At least she wouldn't be asking him any questions he couldn't answer. But Harry did know that he would have to talk to someone if he didn't want his head to blow up.

He thought of whom he could talk to. His first thought was Dumbledore, but he was busy with things of his own, and Harry didn't really want to bother him. Besides, he had the feeling that if he talked to someone, he would end up talking for a long time and about everything.

It was after realizing this that he figured he should talk to Sirius. He wondered how he could contact him. This couldn't be a letter; he would want to talk to his godfather about this face to face.

After a little deliberation, Harry decided that he would need to use his cloak and would use the common room fireplace to try to get to his home.

So it was, that when Harry finally went to Gryffindor tower long after missing dinner, he slipped up to his dormitory quietly and heard his snoring roommates.

Ron, however, was not asleep; he was sitting up in his bed, worrying (like Hermione undoubtedly was in her dormitory) about his best friend.

When he heard someone stub their toe and curse softly, he climbed out of his bed and lit his wand to see Harry sitting on the side of his bed, rubbing a sore toe.

"Harry?" Ron sighed in a relieved sort of way. "Where on earth have you been? Me and Hermione were going crazy!"

"I'm sorry," Harry sighed, wishing silently that Ron had been asleep so he could go and talk to Sirius.

"So... where were you?" Ron went on, sitting down next to Harry.

"In the owlery," Harry replied.

"Why? What is going on with you, Harry Potter?" Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"Ah! Nothing!" Harry said getting irritated. It was at times like these, that it was hard having friends who cared.

"Harry, look at it this way," Ron said, waving his wand idly, "if you don't tell us, I'll set Hermione loose with her brain power, and we will find out anyway. So why not save us the trouble and tell me now? We just want to help."

"Good speech," Harry said tiredly. "But I really can't tell you. If you have to, try to find out yourself, but it would be hard, and I know you want to help, but I think this is something I have to try to sort out in my own head with as little help as possible."

"Hmm," Ron sighed, "good speech as well." He grinned as he headed for his bed and got under the covers with a yawn. "Night, Harry," he called softly.

"G'night, Ron," Harry said in reply.

It was only a matter of minutes before Ron's snores had been added to the overall noise of the sleeping Gryffindors.

Harry left the dormitory under his invisibility cloak and crept down to the common room. He used a pinch of the floo powder he had found at the bottom of his trunk, and called softly, Stella Athelstan, as he stepped in to the green flames.

He fell out of the kitchen fireplace to land with a thud on the stone floor. He stood up and waited for his eyes to get used to the darkness in the room. It was, after all, getting late.

He could hear his godparents talking, however, so he knew they weren't asleep yet. He took off his cloak and made his way to the sitting room. Looking around the doorframe, he saw that Sirius was doing a crossword as he talked to his wife, who was lying on the sofa, her head in his lap.

Harry thought it looked too perfect for him to consider disrupting, but Genevieve got up and left the room from the far door with a yawn and a 'goodnight' to Sirius at that moment anyway.

"Hmm. A mythical creature, seven letters, beginning with C," Sirius muttered to himself as he looked intently at the Daily Prophet crossword.

"Centaur," Harry said, stepping in to the room and prompting a short swear word from Sirius in his surprise.

"Harry! You scared me - what on earth are you doing here? Oh, and thanks," he scribbled the word down before pushing the paper aside and looking back at his godson.

"I need to talk to you," Harry said, sitting down with a sigh. Sirius looked curiously at him and motioned for him to go on.

"When I realised that Voldemort had found a flaw in his plans, I started looking up what it could be. But it was only today that I found what it was in the library..."And Harry paused. He would be making things worse if he told Sirius wouldn't he? Sirius would just go mad with worry.

"No, it doesn't matter. It's nothing," Harry shook his head. Sirius frowned, obviously not quite believing him.

"You came here, Harry. It must be *something* to make you go to such trouble." Sirius raised an eyebrow at his godson.

"It's hardly much trouble, Sirius. All I had to do was go to the fireplace and get here by floo powder!" Harry sighed exasperatedly. He wished he hadn't come. It was a mistake. He knew he couldn't tell Sirius. He remembered what he had said to Ron, barely half an hour earlier. He had to deal with this himself.

If anyone knew, they would try to do what Voldemort was doing - find a way around it. But at the end of the day, this could rid the world of Voldemort forever. And what if there was no other way? If Harry had to, he would do whatever was necessary, even if it meant he had to die.

"I'll see you later, Sirius, I have to go," Harry said in a rush, and he hurried out of the room back to the fireplace before his godfather had time to protest or call him back.

He stumbled out of the common room fire, and coughed a few times, wiping the ash of his clothes. He pulled the invisibility cloak off and sat with a sigh in the nearest armchair.

He had his eyes closed, but when a shadow passed in front of him, he opened them quickly and was startled to see a face peering closely at him. With a surprised yell, he jumped up out of his seat and met the gaze of the person.