The Temple of Le Fay

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Secret Of Morgan Le Fay

There were nine days until exams began. It was Saturday morning and Hermione had dragged Harry and Ron down to the library to begin her patented last-minute, super-revision schedule. This basically consisted, in Ron's opinion, of reading every book in the library three times. But he'd long since given up complaining, reasoning that a summer free of worry about resitting his SKREWTs and instead concentrating on learning to Apparate so that he could visit Hermione was worth the hassle.

The three friends arrived at the library before it even officially opened, with Hermione only allowing them fifteen minutes for breakfast. Ron was still eating a slice of toast as they trooped through the door. Lockhart waved to them from where he was kneeling by one of the stacks, a baited mousetrap in one hand and his wand in the other.

"Hullo, you three," he said, beaming wearily at them as he stood up. "Good to see you, as always. Working hard, I imagine? I'm still trying to catch that blasted rat that's been running around here. Every time I think I have him cornered, he blasts off in some unexpected direction. He's frightfully intelligent."

"Do you need a hand?" Ron asked. "I used to have a rat. I might be able to help."

"Very kind, Mr. Weasley," Lockhart said. "I won't be interrupting your studying? I know that your exams start next week."

"No, not at all," Ron grinned, carefully avoiding Hermione's baleful glare. "I wouldn't want to risk all these useful books," he added, picking up a copy of 101 Ways to Grow Your Nails The Way You Want and waving it to show the sort of useful books the library contained. "Hey, Lavender had this out last week," he added, glancing at the list of people who'd borrowed the book. "And two months ago. And December. And four times last year... Blimey."

Ron and Lockhart moved off along the aisles, each bearing a load of baited boxes that would trap the rat without harming it.

"Ron seems to be getting on okay with Lockhart," Harry said to Hermione.

"He's really warmed up to him since he found out that he's seeing Professor Skeeter," Hermione said, with a long-suffering sigh. "He thinks that Lockhart deserves a bit of respect for daring to go out with someone who's so good at stabbing people with a sword."

Harry laughed, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'll only encourage him," she objected. Harry forced himself to stop laughing, and instead directed an amused grin at his Potions notes.

After ten minutes, Hermione slammed her folder shut.

"I can't do it," she sighed. "It's too nice a day. Nothing's going in."

"I'm not surprised," Harry said, looking up from his notes on the Draught of Deadly Fatal Death Poisonous Elixir of Mortality. "Hermione, you know it all. I mean," he said hurriedly, realising that it had sounded like he had called her a know-it-all. "I mean, you know all of this already. You can't learn it all over again. It's not possible."

"But what if I don't know it when it comes up in the exam?"

"Hermione," Harry said. "You've reached the point where you know the entire syllabus. It's a week before the exams. I know it's pointless to say don't worry, but can you do something else? It's eight in the morning, for Merlin's sake. You need to find a way of unwinding or you'll drive me and Ron mad by the end of the day."

"Well..." Hermione looked unhappily at her carefully ordered revision, and Harry knew that giving up an entire day's work was a concept almost completely alien to her. "I suppose I could carry on with Gilderoy's work on Le Fay's temple?" she said cautiously. She was looking at her work as though it might burst into flames if she didn't focus her concentration on it.

"Only you could relax by doing more work, Hermione," Harry shook his head. "Go on, then. I'm sure he'll be grateful for the help."

Hermione got up eagerly and, as Harry focused on the Utterly Lethal Lotion, she selected the biggest, heaviest looking work on Morgan Le Fay from the pile. She sat down, and was soon lost in the book. A few minutes later, Professor Skeeter arrived in the library, yawning and running her hands through her long, untidy hair. She nodded sleepily to Harry, picked up a book on Le Fay without looking, and almost sat on Hermione before realising that she was there.

"Sorry Granger," she yawned. "It's far too early in the morning for it to be this early in the morning. Can you imagine if You Know Who showed up right now? Fat lot of use I'd be."

Harry grinned. Over the course of the school year Professor Skeeter had been established as being notoriously bad at waking early. It usually took her until at least the second class of the day to be fully awake, and her reputation as a hard taskmaster didn't fair well among those she taught before morning break.

The library was almost quiet for the next ten minutes, the tranquillity only disturbed by the murmuring of Ron and Lockhart as they discussed the best places to set their traps.

The door opened again, and this time it was Draco who came in, that morning's Daily Prophet open in front of him and a worried look on his face.

"Harry," he said uncomfortably. "I thought you might be here." He handed Harry the Prophet.

"I thought you might be interested in the lead article," he added.

Harry turned to the front page and looked unhappily at Lucius Malfoy's smiling face. The older Malfoy stood behind a podium, smiling in a way that Harry considered to be overly sinister. A smaller photo, captioned as having been taken earlier that morning, showed Malfoy receiving his wand from Mad-Eye Moody. Lucius glowered at the rough silver handle of the wand, the reshaping of which had been Sirius' handwork. Harry wondered briefly what Sirius would do for a wand now that Lucius' wand had been taken away.

Maybe Ollivander is a member of the Order. Aren't he and Dumbledore old friends or something?

Harry set the paper aside and looked up at Draco.

"How did he get off?"

"The official story is that the Ministry accepted his claim that he was placed under the Imperius curse."

"And the unofficial story?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly very weary.

"If I know my father, then he almost certainly bribed the court."

Harry looked up at Draco. "It's been quiet these last few weeks. Do you think he has something planned?"

"Knowing my father?" Draco snorted. "He'll see a year's captivity as a way of elevating himself in You Know Who's eyes. He'll have spent the year dreaming up new ways of winning power for himself. You Know Who will listen to him, and the chances are that one of Father's plans will capture his attention."

"Another attack on Hogsmeade?" Harry asked. Repairing the physical damage from the battle the year before had been a matter of a few days' work. Repairing the mental damage would be an ongoing process and another attack on the wizarding community could damage it beyond repair.

"Possible, but unlikely. Father has never enjoyed reviewing his failures. I would imagine he has some ploy to attack those members of the High Court who voted against him."

Harry looked at the blonde Ravenclaw. "You need to tell Dumbledore or someone what you suspect."

"My next stop," Draco said soberly. "I thought that I should warn you first, though. Father will certainly want to get revenge on you, and the Dark Lord will be happy to assist him in any way he can."

"Thanks M- Draco," Harry said. "I appreciate it."

"I have a lot to pay you back for," Draco said. "Five years of hating one another all seem rather pointless once you think that You Know Who is out there and ready to kill us."

Harry nodded, and Draco left, holding the door open for Ginny as he went out. Ginny stomped in, clearly in a bad mood, slamming a towering pile of books onto the table between Harry and Hermione.

"What's up?" Harry asked mildly, putting out a hand to stop the tower crashing to the floor.

"Bloody Snape is what's up," she snapped at him. "I have to go through all of these books and summarise all the 'flu cures in them. There must be dozens," she added with a groan.

"What'd you do to deserve that?" Harry asked, picking up the first book and glancing at it. He looked up, and then straight back down. This is Moste Potente Potions, he thought. There's no 'flu cures in here.

Harry looked at the other books. He recognised most of them, and was willing to bet that Hermione would know the others. He was also willing to bet that there wasn't a single cure for the 'flu in any of them.

"Harry? Are you listening to me?"

Harry looked up from the books, suddenly aware that he had been ignoring Ginny during the closest thing they'd had to a real conversation in months.

"Sorry. I think I can help you with this, if you want."

Ginny looked at him dubiously, obviously torn between accepting his help and being stuck with doing Snape's punishment on her own.

"What did you do to get punished, anyway?" Harry asked again, looking intently at her this time.

I used to like those eyes, Ginny thought. I'm not sure I do now it feels like they can see right through me.

"He caught me skiving off History of Magic," Ginny admitted, grimacing.

"You got caught?" Harry asked, leaning back and making Ginny feel less as though she were stuck in a spotlight.

"Not everyone has an Invisibility Cloak, okay?" Ginny objected.

Harry's eyes sparkled. "Where did he catch you?"

Ginny glared back at him before muttering. "Outside Professor Flitwick's classroom."

"What were you doing there?" Harry asked curiously. Doesn't she have History of Magic at the same time I have Charms? And she was outside my classroom? No, must just be a coincidence... She must have been waiting to see Ron. Or Hermione.

I was waiting for a chance to see you. I'm so pathetic. I deserved to get caught. Get lost and stop looking at me!

Harry looked at Ginny curiously, and then shrugged. Turning away, he picked up one of the books and started paging through it.

"Mmph," he grunted after a few minutes.

"What is it?"

"I was right. Hermione, can we have a word?"

Hermione reluctantly put her book down, and joined them.

"That book's really interesting, Harry. All about Le Fay's early childhood."

"Fascinating," Harry said, in a way that made Ginny grin. "Do you recognise those books?"

"Yes," she said, glancing at the two books Harry had pointed out. "They're on the recommended reading list for seventh years."

"Really?" Harry looked a little startled and Ginny got the impression that he wasn't looking forward to reading them. "Well, do either of them say anything about 'flu cures?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "I've only read through them once, though. I might be wrong."

"Do you remember telling me once that if we're set an impossible assignment, we don't have to do it?" Harry asked.

"Yes?" Hermione replied.

"Ginny's been given an impossible punishment. Does she have to do it?"

"Well, no, I suppose not," Hermione said. "Why is it impossible?"

"He's said I have to look up 'flu cures in these books," Ginny said, pointing at the large pile on the desk in front of them.

"And there aren't any cures in these books," Harry added triumphantly. "Ginny doesn't have to do it."

"Oh Harry, are you sure?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Absolutely," Harry said, and Ginny could almost feel the certainty radiating off of him.

"Well, in that case you wouldn't have to do the punishment," Hermione said. "But we should check these anyway," she added, glancing at the books.

"Ginny and I can do it," Harry said. "You get back to Morgan Le Fay, as it's so interesting."

"If you're sure?" Hermione said.

"Absolutely," Ginny said, suddenly very sure that she wanted more time alone with Harry.

Hermione went back to her book. Harry and Ginny sat down and began working quietly through the tower of books. They sat quite companionably together in silence, only interrupted by a crash from the stacks and a loud swear word in Ron's voice.

"Good thing Madam Pince isn't here yet," Harry commented.

Ten more minutes passed and Ron staggered out of the stacks, looking exhausted. Professor Skeeter was gone from her seat in an instant, and Ron flopped into her place. Harry and Ginny shared a wry grin as they watched her disappearing down an aisle towards Lockhart

"Do you have any idea how big this place is?" Ron asked. "I swear some of the aisles go on for ever. And Lockhart's mad about catching that rat, I tell you."

"We could lend him Crookshanks. He's a clever cat. I know he'd catch this rat in no time." Hermione suggested.

Ginny giggled.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I was just thinking that if Crookshanks got loose in the library then it would be a catastrophe," Ginny replied with an impish grin."

"And Lockhart would be catatonic again," Harry added absently.

Hermione looked appalled. Ron smirked and hopped off his chair, collecting more rattraps and heading back into the aisles. A few moments later, Skeeter re-emerged from the stacks looking a little flustered. She glared at Harry and Ginny, who were grinning idiotically at their books, and sat down next to Hermione.

Silence reigned in the library for about three minutes.

"There!"

There was the sound of something heavy hitting the floor, like someone diving to the ground. This was followed by a crashing sound as wood splintered, and a more prolonged, papery crashing that could only be large numbers of books crashing to the ground.

Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Skeeter looked around in mild curiosity, knowing already what they would see.

A grey rat scuttled out from the cloud of dust that was drifting out of one of the aisles and disappeared under a shelving unit. Harry watched for a few seconds, wondering if it would come out again, but it seemed to be settled in. Something about the rat seemed familiar, but Harry shook his head.

There's lots of rats in the world, he thought.

"Umm, a little help? Please?" Lockhart's voice came from the damaged aisle. Everyone got up and trooped dutifully to the aisle, peering through the dust to see what damage Lockhart and Ron's over-enthusiastic rat hunt had wrought on Madam Pince's careful filing system.

"Oh, Madam Pince is going to kill you," Ginny said, looking down at the sight before them.

Ron and Lockhart lay on the floor, buried under dozens of old, dusty books. They almost looked like ghosts, except for Ron's bright red hair and Lockhart's fiery red robes shining through the thick layer of dust that covered them.

"Would someone please help us up?" Ron said plaintively. "This bloody hurts, you know."

Harry leant forward and shifted some of the books from his friend's back, allowing Ron to pull himself free. Ginny and Skeeter freed Lockhart while Hermione tried to work out exactly how much damage they had done.

"Ron, I think you're in very deep trouble," she said.

"No, it was all my fault," Lockhart said. "I won't hear a word of Mr. Weasley taking the blame for any of this."

"Thanks," Ron said, wincing as he worked his shoulder gingerly. He pulled at the collar of his robes, revealing a grimoire-shaped bruise across his shoulder blade.

"You're lucky that didn't snap your spine," Hermione said.

"Thanks for the sympathy," Ron grimaced.

"I'm serious, Ron," Hermione said. "You should know better than that. You have to be more careful."

"She's right," Professor Skeeter said. "Gilderoy, what were you thinking?" she said, probing the older wizard's shoulders for injuries.

"It would appear that I was thinking about that rat," Lockhart said, flashing his most brilliant smile at Skeeter, who ignored it.

"Well, it serves you right," she said. "You're lucky it's not more serious, both of you. Think before you act next ti-"

She was interrupted by Ron running down the aisle and leaping bodily over the table, crashing to the ground with a meaty thump.

"Aaagh! No, missed him again. Ow," he added. "He's right under that shelf, though."

Lockhart struggled free from Skeeter's ministries and snatched up a rattrap, following Ron's pointing finger.

"I give up," Skeeter said, picking her way through the fallen books and back down the aisle. She took a seat by the pile of books on Morgan Le Fay, threw a look of frustration at Lockhart and went back to her research.

"Me too," Hermione said, following Skeeter's lead right down to the baleful glare, although hers was directed at Ron rather than Lockhart.

This left Harry and Ginny alone in the aisle, with everyone else's attention focused away from them. They glanced at one another, suddenly aware at the same moment that the aisle was forcing a physical proximity between them that they hadn't shared in more than six months.

"Um," Ginny said. This is weird. But nice as well.

"Yeah," Harry replied. I want to kiss her.

"We should get back to work," Ginny said hurriedly. I mustn't kiss him!

"You're right," Harry said reluctantly. I can't force it. If it happens, it happens. It's not my place to make the first move.

"So, we should, you know, go back and work," Ginny said, not moving. After you.

"After you," Harry said, gesturing for her to go ahead. Make the first move!

Ginny turned, biting her lip to stop herself from screaming as she led Harry down the aisle towards the others.

Suddenly, Hermione screamed and Ron yelled out.

"I've found it!"

"Scabbers!"

Harry and Ginny dashed down the aisle.

"Harry, I've found where Le Fay put her temple. Oh Harry, it's-"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled.

But it was too late.

Ron had been holding a squealing, struggling rat in his hands, and this time he didn't need a layer of dust to look like a ghost. All the blood had drained from his face. He had been yelling something about binding when the rat stopped struggling and Ron was thrown backwards as the rat-

Changed.

One second there had been a grey rat in Ron's hands. The next an adult wizard was diving through the air, a flash of silver preceding him as he reached out for Hermione. He crashed into her and sent her flying backwards. There was a moment of confusion, and then Peter Pettigrew was dragging Hermione to her feet, his silver hand clasped around her throat and a knife pointing at her heart.

"Where is it, girl?" he spat. "Tell me, or I'll kill you."

Everyone in the room stood frozen in their places. Ron groaned from the midst of the fragments of wood that had been a solid table until he had crash-landed on top of it, but otherwise there was no sound.

"Tell me," Pettigrew snapped, his voice rough and cracked. He looked like a desperate man, and Harry wondered how Voldemort treated Pettigrew. Was this Pettigrew's last mission, his last chance to prove himself?

"Tell me or so help me I'll kill you," Pettigrew hissed.

"No," Hermione said, her voice trembling. "If I tell you, you'll tell V-Voldemort."

"Yes," Pettigrew said, his grip on Hermione's throat tightening. "That's exactly what I'll do. Or, I'll kill you, I'll kill everyone in this room - BELIEVE ME, I can do it," he roared, making Hermione wince. "I'll kill you all, and then I'll take the book you were just reading back to him and he'll know."

"Tell him, Hermione," Harry said quietly.

"Yes, tell me, Hermione," Pettigrew mimicked in Hermione's ear. "And stop squirming."

"You've changed a lot, Wormtail," Harry said. "The last time I saw you, you were groveling at Voldemort's feet and he was torturing you."

"Lord Voldemort thought you might still be haunting his dreams, Harry," Pettigrew sneered. "He's found a way to block you lately, did you notice that? He's growing stronger, and soon no one will be able to stand against him. Of course, that day'd come a lot sooner if girly here would just tell me what she knows."

Pettigrew shook Hermione by her throat, making her gasp and the knifepoint slice across the material of her robes.

"So your master gets stronger and you grow a spine, is that it?"

"No, Harry," Pettigrew said. "You shouldn't believe everything Remus and Sirius tell you. I may not have had the talent to keep up with James and Sirius, but I was a Gryffindor through and through. I was always brave, I just wasn't stupid."

"That's not what you said that night in the Shrieking Shack," Harry snarled.

A shadow crossed Wormtail's face, and for a second Harry saw the weak wizard that he knew was the real Peter Pettigrew.

"You don't understand. I don't have a choice," Pettigrew muttered. "I never wanted... I don't want..."

"Let her go," Harry said. "Let her go and we can protect you, Peter."

For a second, Harry thought that he had done it, that Peter would release Hermione. For a second, Wormtail's eyes glazed over and he seemed lost in a reverie of being free of Voldemort. Then he frowned and choked Hermione still tighter. She was starting to go blue.

"No, only he can protect me," Pettigrew said. "TELL ME!"

"Tell him, Hermione," Harry yelled, feeling frustrated and scared.

Hermione choked something out, too faintly for anyone to Wormtail to hear. The Death Eater's face lit up, and he laughed. "Of course. Where else?"

"LET HER GO!"

"Naturally, she's no use to me anymore," Wormtail sneered. And so saying, he shoved Hermione away from him and into Harry and Ginny, sending the three of them crashing to the floor.

With a pop of imploding air, Wormtail transformed back into a rat and scuttled quickly across the library floor before Skeeter or Lockhart could stop him. Harry scrambled frantically to his feet and dashed after him, but by the time he had reached the library door, there was no sign of Wormtail. The former Marauder would know his way around Hogwarts as well as anyone, Harry mused ruefully.

He went back into the library where Lockhart was helping a stunned Ron onto a chair and Ginny and Professor Skeeter were tending to a pal Hermione.

"He got away," Harry said superfluously. "We need to go and see Dumbledore."

Lockhart and Skeeter nodded, and helped Ron and Hermione to their feet. Harry and Ginny helped guide their injured friends through the still-deserted corridors and to the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's study.

"Babble Brain Bubble Gum," Harry said dully. He led the others up the revolving stairs to Dumbledore's office and rapped on the door.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's deep, reassuring voice from within.

Harry opened the door to reveal Dumbledore and Draco.

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we have an emergency."

"So I see," Dumbledore said, standing and conjuring sofas for Ron and Hermione to rest on. "What happened?"

"We were in the library. Hermione said she'd found out where the temple is. Before anyone could react, Wormtail appeared and grabbed her. He made her tell him where it is and now he'll tell Voldemort."

"Ingenious," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "Who better to spy on us than Peter Pettigrew? And yet not one of us suspected... Miss Granger, can you speak?"

Hermione croaked something, and then shook her head. Dumbledore waved his wand at her throat, and then turned and waved it over Ron.

"You will both feel fine in a few minutes, now, until then-"

"I brought the book Hermione was reading," Ginny said. "I kept the page and everything."

"Well done, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore beamed. He took the heavy book from her and laid it open on his desk. Harry, Draco, Ginny and Lockhart crowded around while Skeeter tended to Ron and Hermione.

"Ah, there it is," Dumbledore said. "So much trouble over such a very few words."

Harry leaned closer, peering at the writing.

"And Morgana bought the land that would come to be known as the Hollow of Godric so she would forever have someplace to rest," he read aloud. "The Hollow of Godric? Godric's Hollow? Where my parents lived?" he said, incredulously.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said gravely. "I am afraid that it is time for you to go home."

To be continued...