Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Strinx

By

Moon Weasley

Chapter Twenty:

And the plot thickens...

Robes billowing furiously behind them, Harry, Ron and Hermione ran steadfastly down the many corridors of Hogwarts Castle. The combined sound of shoes clattering against stone and panting, ragged breaths echoed off the walls sounding as if a large herd of menacing Manticores had been set loose on the premises.

This mad rush (as apposed to the calm walking which the school rules very clearly stated to be the correct way to move about the castle) was all due to an offhand comment uttered just moments before by Max the German exchange student. Normally the trio (and Ron and Harry in particular) wouldn't pay much attention to anything the git had to say. Tonight however was different. Tonight his ramblings had actually stirred their interest because according to Max Ginny was supposedly acting almost Strinxish these days.

Ever since Viktor Krum's grandmother had made her obscure and rather vague prediction about the Dark Lord and Harry's mysterious Strinx, they (or rather Hermione) had searched high and low for any clues to what this could possibly mean. Up to this point however they hadn't made any headway on the subject. Max's comment was the first real hint about the prophecy to date and all three were anxious to explore it further. Apparently this Strinx-thing had something to do with seeing or predicting the future - after all that seemed to be what Ginny had been doing lately anyway. Either that or she was one hell of a good guesser, Harry thought sarcastically. Somehow he didn't really believe that to be the case.

And now it looked as if their long and tedious wait for a breakthrough had come to an end. And the trio's instinctive reaction to Max' statement had certainly been one to remember! Gryffindors of all ages had shockingly witnessed the pristine Prefect Hermione unceremoniously drop her precious books in a very untidy heap on the common room floor, Ron abandoning his Divination homework unfinished and in a state of complete disarray with quills and ink bottles flying in all directions (perhaps not so shocking) while Harry had dropped his precious Firebolt right there on the common room floor totally forgetting his usual procedure of securely locking it in his trunk. They'd exiting the room in a mad rush and two knocked-over suits of armour and a string of disgruntled portraits later they skidded to a halt at their intended destination. The Library.

Unfortunately though, Madam Pince was just putting the final locking charms on the doors when they (very ungracefully) skidded to a halt just inches from her beaky face. Sadly no amount of begging, pleading or references to Hermione's perfect library record (never an overdue book!) could sway the stern librarian to let them browse through her perfectly organized domain after hours without her present to chaperon their every movement.

Their reputation for nosing around had obviously reached Madam Pince because before sauntering off, she made a huge number off triple locking the doors with an ancient Locking Charm that Alohomora wouldn't open (Ron stubbornly tried but without result) and that not even Hermione knew the counter spell to. Clearly she didn't trust them further than she could throw them (which wasn't far judging by her petite form) and perhaps not without reason, Harry thought darkly.

And so they were left with little choice but to return to the common room. Ron semi-seriously suggested to linger a bit and then attempt to pick the lock Muggle-style (Fred and George had taught him how). But as the prospect of being caught wandering the corridors after curfew (Madam Pince was sure to alert Flich about them prowling about the premises) wasn't high on their list of priorities and the Maurauder's Map no longer was at their disposal, they decided against it.

Wearing looks of highest gloom they soon shuffled through the portrait hole and upon Hermione's firm instructions made a half-hearted attempt to complete their homework. But as their concentration wasn't exactly at its peak, most of the night was instead spent playing Gobstones with the twins.

But at least the evening had brought one good thing, Harry thought happily as he got ready for bed. Ron and Hermione were finally back on speaking terms and acting perfectly normal towards each other. As far as Harry could tell they still hadn't talked about what happened at the Ball and not for the first time he found himself completely baffled by the strangeness of their coexistence.

But hey, who was he to complain - he had his two best friends back were he liked them best - with him and simultaneously at that. Who was he to jinx that by enquiring into tricky and embarrassing issues?

* * *

The following few days Harry, Ron and Hermione launched themselves into an extensive library search that could only be rivalled by the one prior to Buckbeak's trial in their third year. Indexes were searched, books explored and parchments scrutinized and not always in the neatest way possible much to Madam Pince's utter dismay.

Sick and tired of sorting out and re-shelving the books the Gryffindors left in their wake, Ron was unfortunate enough to get a piece of her mind as she managed to corner him in the Divination section where he was busily shuffling through a large volume on 18th century fortune telling in Turkey and too engrossed to notice her sneaking up on him.

"Mr. Weasley!"

Ron literally jumped at the sound of her voice and dropped the book to the ground with an earth shattering bang. This did of course nothing to brighten Madam Pince's already black mood. As she launched herself into a long tirade about how today's young witches and wizards had no respect for other people's property, Ron couldn't help but contemplate the irony of a librarian having such a shrill and penetrating voice. Obviously she rarely got to use it to its full capacity when working in a place where sound was about as welcome as Slytherins in the Gryffindor common room. And thank god for that Ron thought happily. It wasn't exactly the kind of voice that could sooth ones soul...

Obviously sensing that Ron was not listening to her, she smacked him on the arm making him wince in pain.

"Never, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pince hissed furiously, her index finger threatening to stab him in the eye. "Never in my lengthy career here at Hogwarts have I witnessed a more haphazard and disrespectful handling of books. You and your friends have been in here every day this past week wrecking mayhem and chaos in my delicately organized library not to mention manhandling the books into unrecognisable shreds of frayed parchment."

At this point Ron unsuccessfully tried to utter some sort of statement to their defence but a fuming Madam Pince cut him short.

"Why or what you're searching for I do not know and frankly speaking I don't care either. All I want is for this to stop and the sooner the better. I'll be having word with both the Headmaster and your Head of House about this, you mark my word."

She shook her head angrily making her minuscule glasses fly off her nose. She whirled around and stomped off and as she rounded a corner Ron distinctly heard her mutter, "Potter and Weasley - yes, but even Granger - it saddens me, it really does..."

The threat of Professor McGonagall hovering over them with her mouth pressed into that scary thin line of hers served as extra motivation and thus the search was intensified. And finally late Thursday their efforts were rewarded. A triumphant shriek could be heard from Hermione and accompanied by angry shushing sounds she emerged dusty and dirty from the furthest corner of the Library with a very old and very tattered book lifted high in the air. Quicker than light they checked the book out (Madam Pince looked beyond relief) and headed directly for the common room.

On the way Ron literally had a field day pestering Hermione about the fact that the book containing information on the Strinx had indeed been located in the Divination section - the only section she hadn't bother to look through earlier that year. Pink-cheeked and frowning Hermione pursed her lips and refused to comment on the matter much to Ron's enormous entertainment.

"And here I thought the lovely grandma Krum made you see the error of your ways and admit that Divination isn't such a waste of time after all," Ron said casually with a look of mock innocence written all over his freckled face.

He was answered by a low but very distinct harrumph-sound from Hermione and an equally distinct snigger from Harry. Both their reactions encouraged Ron to continue his banter.

"Don't scoff at me Ms Granger," Ron chastised happily. "We all have to eat or words once in a while and frankly speaking it was about bloody time you were the one doing some of the eating. Bon Apetite to you Miss Granger!"

Ron was grinning from ear to ear and doing a rather silly looking victory dance involving much flailing of arms. For some reason Hermione didn't seem to find it quite as amusing as Harry who was kept very busy biting his tongue to avoid breaking out in hysterics.

Ron eventually stopped dancing and fell into step with Hermione, nudging her in the arm every two seconds.

"Come on then, Mione," he said in a really annoying singsong voice. "Admit you were wrong, it'll do you some good."

Hermione sent him a look suggesting she would rather eat Skrewts three times a day than partake in any form of admittance. Ron expertly ignored her withering glare.

"Just repeat after me: I, Hermione Granger, hereby openly and of my own free will, in the presence of the distinguished gentlemen Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley and Mr. Harry James Potter admit that I was very wrong with regards to the art of Divination. As a matter of fact..."

That sentence was never finished. Hermione, who'd judging by the look on her face had grown steadily more annoyed with each word Ron produced, suddenly broke into a side-splitting laughing fit. Ron stopped his ranting and gave her a bemused look.

"What?" he asked bewilderment clearly traceable in his voice. "This is no laughing matter you know. Admitting to one's faults is something we all have to do, even stubborn know-it-alls like yourself..."

Harry however doubted very much that Hermione caught any of this. She was doubled up with titters and way to busy steadying herself against the corridor wall to pay any attention to Ron's reprimand. Ron sent Harry a look clearly suggesting that Hermione had lost her marbles, but Harry couldn't help but think that it was rather Ron himself that was the loony one. Honestly, what was he thinking, revealing his best kept secret like that?

Hermione was beyond walking. Tears were running down her cheeks, her laughter echoing down the corridor. It was highly infectious and soon Harry was laughing every bit as hard as she was. Ron however wore a look of complete bewilderment.

"What on earth has gotten into you two?" he asked glancing from one to the other. This only made Harry and Hermione laugh harder.

"What did I miss?" He spun around craning his neck in all directions in search of the source of their amusement. "Did Malfoy traipse past us wearing Pansy's frilly dress or something? If so I find it absolutely offensive that you didn't warn me about it. I'm always looking for award winning embarrassing moments where that bastard's concerned, you know."

With great difficulty Harry managed to find his voice. Hermione was still not even close to coherent speech. "Sorry mate," he coughed out between giggles, "but I'm afraid it wasn't Malfoy who embarrassed himself this time."

Ron was now wearing a look of annoyance. "No? Well why don't you just stop the freaking giggle-fest already and tell me what's so funny." Harry answered with a fresh wave of titters and Ron mumbled something that sounded remarkably like "Fucking Lavender-wannabe".

"It's you, stupid!" Harry answered and Ron raised his eyebrows in confusion. "You're the one who's just embarrassed yourself. I mean what were you thinking revealing your middle name to Hermione? There is absolutely no way she'll ever let you live this one down, you know..."

"Bilius!?"

Hermione had by now regained control over her vocal cords even though she still seemed to be having trouble controlling her limbs. Never the less she was looking happier than any 350 % test score ever had. Ron slapped his forehead in frustration and groaned loudly knowing all to well that Harry was spot on. Cursing his parents' poor taste in names and his own stupidity for revealing it, he gritted his teeth and resumed walking. Hermione was never going to let him forget this. Never in a million years...

* * *

In the space between Ron's embarrassing slip of the tongue and their arrival back at the common room Hermione had managed to address Ron using his full name no less than twelve times. His patience was therefore running very thin as he and Harry stepped through the portrait hole. Hermione had with evident joy paused to inform the Fat Lady of her latest discovery something that undoubtedly would result in it being public knowledge in, oh say an hour or so.

Smiling like a Cheshire cat she bounced into the room and Ron seriously wondered how on earth he could fancy someone that obviously was purely evil. He gave her his most withering glare but it didn't have the desired effect. If possible her grin grew even broader and Ron groaned in frustration. Diversion tactics! He needed a diversion quickly before she managed to broadcast that bloody name to the entire Gryffindor common room. Shuddering at the very thought his eyes fell on the tome the Queen of Evil was holding and relief instantly flooded over him.

"I don't know about you two, but I'm dying to have a read in that book. Should we find a quiet spot? How about our dormitory?"

Harry did a quick scan of the room and nodded in agreement. "That'll be all right I think. Seamus and the others are all down here. What do you say, Hermione? Up for a little rule breaking?"

"Huh?"

Hermione was staring intently at something or someone at the other side of the room. Following her gaze it appeared to be focused on Ginny, but whether she was really looking at her or rather just staring of into space Ron didn't know. Hermione was known to zone out whenever she was mulling something over in her head and Ron knew from extensive experience not to bug her while in such a state. Harry however was bold enough to try and break her trance.

"I said..."

"I heard you Harry, and yes I suppose your dormitory would suffice," Hermione said quickly breaking out of her reverie. Ron gave a fake gasp and with great drama clutched his heart. "Am I hearing right? Are you - Prefect extraordinaire and number one rule-lover now that Percival, the Headboy from Hell has left the premises - willing to participate in such a blatant violation of Hogwarts rules? I'm shocked and scandalized..."

"Oh shut your gap, Bilius!" Hermione barked and headed for the stairs. "Are you two coming or not?" Snickering Harry made to follow her but stopped dead in his tracks at Ron's next question.

"Shouldn't we fetch Ginny before embarking on this great rule breaking escapade?"

Harry swallowed hard. Ron was right. They really should get her. The only problem was that he didn't really feel like fetching her. Harry had been mentally contemplating whether or not Ginny should be involved ever since Max had called her Strinxish. Even now he was torn. His heart told him to double over, grab her by the hand and drag her of to his dormitory (blushing profusely Harry thanked Merlin Ron was unable to read minds seeing as that thought easily could be gravely misinterpreted...), his mind however told him it was probably best to leave her out of it for now.

There had been so many strange occurrences where she was concerned lately and he couldn't help but find it a little unnerving as well as suspicious. His gut feeling told him that Ginny was hiding something from them and if there was one thing Harry had learned over the years it was to trust his instincts. So maybe they should go back to operating as a trio again for the time being? The problem was how to convince Ron and Hermione to exclude the youngest Weasley without raising their suspicion. After all he'd gone to great lengths earlier this year to include her. A sudden change of heart might lead to tricky questions and Harry really didn't have any good answers at this point.

But to Harry's great surprise Hermione actually beat him to it.

"I think perhaps we should leave Ginny out of this for now." She was still looking at Ginny as she said this, her forehead screwed up in little wrinkles as it always did when she was working on something particularly difficult.

"Why?" Ron asked defiantly. "You and Harry were the ones who so actively campaigned for us to let her in on things in the first place. I mean Harry even managed to trick Dumbledore into telling her about the Order. And now you want to leave her out. I don't get it?"

He shook his head in bewilderment, turned around and started towards the stairs. "I don't particularly object seeing that I always found it rather lame to hang around my freaking sister all the time, but I honestly don't get it." He arched an eyebrow in Hermione's direction. "Care to share, Hermione Louisa?"

"Female intuition," was Hermione's curt and lofty reply indicating clearly that the subject was closed for discussion. She pushed past the boys with great determination purposely stepping heavily on Ron's foot digging her heal firmly down on his long toes. Ron let out an anguished yelp and glared murderously at her. Hermione expertly ignored him.

"And by the way, Louisa is not even close," she added icily. Ron answered by sticking his tongue out before he continued peppering Hermione with a string of steadily more obscure names hoping against hope that her middle name was at least as hideous as his own...

Shaking his head with frustration Harry followed them up the stairs half-heartedly listening to the bickering and yearning for the day they would move on from the "I-desperately-like-you-therefore-I-tease-and-torment-you phase" whenever that might be...

* * *

An hour later they were still to be found in the boys' fifth year dormitory. Harry was sitting on the floor with his back propped up against his trunk while Ron and Hermione occupied Ron's bed. Ron was lying in something very close to a star formation with his head dangling over the end of the bed while Hermione was sitting cross-legged leaning against the headboard. All three were wearing identical looks of frustration and confusion.

"Run it by me again will you, Hermione?" Harry requested while massaging his temples. His scar was throbbing and it was giving him a slight headache. Ron groaned impatiently.

"We've read it like a gazillion times already and it makes absolutely no bloody sense at all. So why bother? The book is rubbish like all things associated with Divination."

He fixed Hermione with a sarcastic stare and continued "And before you say anything - yes, I know the phrase "Divination is rubbish" has been your mantra for years and I hereby heartily agree."

Hermione ignored Ron's outburst and obliged Harry by rereading the section about the Strinx.

Prophecy #237: The Prophecy of the Strinx.

The legendary16th century sorceress Wilhelmina Burdock first recorded this prophecy to parchment in her book "Prophecy Delight", an extensive collection of prophecies made the past 700 years prior to its release. The book was later criticized and deemed highly unreliable due to Burdock's unwillingness to reveal and acknowledge the sources of her information. "Prophecy Delight" is therefore today banned from all libraries and teaching institutions in Great Britain by the Ministry of Magic.

Whether reliable or not, up to the point of its release this particular prophecy had simply been passed on through generations by word of mouth. Helga Hufflepuff allegedly made the prophecy shortly after Salazar Slytherin broke with the remaining Founders due to a fundamental difference of opinion with regards to the education of Muggleborn witches and wizards.

The following paragraphs shows The Prophecy of the Strinx quoted word by word from Burdock's original version. Other variations of this prophecy can be found in "Helga Hufflepuff - Founder and Fortune teller" by Avril Smith and "A trip down memory lane: Prophecies long forgotten (and probably for good reason)" by Derek Fluff.

"In the time when a millennium approaches a monarch of darkness and gloom will grow and fall only to yet again rise from the ashes to new heights of iniquity. His powers will threaten the balance of good and evil and the Magical community as we know it will find itself in peril of extinction.

However a direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor will possess the supremacy to resist this terror and a fateful encounter between these opposing poles can save our world. However the Heir to Gryffindor will only be able to conquer this evil threat with the aid of his -"

Hermione sighed deeply and stopped reading. "Isn't it typical? Of all the pages in this gigantic book, of course then one we want to read have to be missing. I feel like screaming!!" She threw the book across the bed hitting Ron in the stomach.

"Ouch! You could do some serious harm to me with that tome. It's not exactly pleasurable being hit by it, and it's not like it's my fault the bloody book is missing the page, now is it?"

He scooped up the book and rolled over to his stomach. "Are you sure there is nothing more about this prophecy in any of the other chapters?" Ron flopped through the pages not really looking at any of them and Hermione groaned loudly and buried her face in her hands.

"For the hundredth time, Ron YES of course I'm sure! Are you doubting my ability to check properly?" Ron smiled cheekily and slammed the book shut. "Certainly not, Ms. Library, certainly not." Hermione was just about to retort when Harry broke their little banter.

"As entertaining as it is to watch they two of you flirt outrageously, perhaps I should just leave you to it. In the meantime I'll just dash down to the library and see if I can find any of the books mentioned in that thing." He pointed casually to the book still in Ron's large freckled hand. It took a massive amount of willpower to keep his face straight as he watched Hermione turn pink-cheeked and Ron a violent purple. Inside Harry was bubbling with mirth and actually had to retort to biting his tongue to avoid breaking out in hysterics. Pity Ginny wasn't here to witness it, she'd enjoyed the show.

Obviously fearing being left alone with Ron after Harry's comment, Hermione quickly volunteered to do it ("I'll make quicker work of it," she'd explained looking quite flustered) and left promptly. She'd barely left the room before Ron hurled several pillows at Harry, clearly meant as payback for his snide comment. The fight was still on when Hermione returned fifteen minutes later empty-handed and gloomy.

"Nada, zilch, nothing, nil, zero! Madam Pince even gave me an earful for daring to bother her after the damage we supposedly had done to her filing systems. Stupid cow!! " Hermione was fuming as she stomped across the dormitory and flopped back down on Ron's bed.

"And when I asked her, politely I might add, if she perhaps could order at least one of the books I requested she gave me such a scolding it sent other students running from the room. Honestly, who do she thinks she is? My mother? I think not!!"

Grinning slightly Harry left the discomfort of the floor and flopped down on his bed in much the same position as Ron was sporting.

"So I gather she's not putting that order in then, is she?" Hermione snorted loudly. "Not unless we can procure her with a signed parchment from a professor stating that the book in question is needed for school related reasons."

"Where's Lockhart when you finally need him?" asked Ron sarcastically. "The only sensible thing that prat ever did was to hand out permission slips left and right. Can't for the life of me picture McGonagall or Snape handing us such a parchment without a good reason. Can't really claim we need it for Transfiguration or Potion making, can we?"

"I know that!" Hermione exclaimed in frustration. "I've been wringing my brain all the way from the library trying to come up with a believable reason for why we need it. The only subject I can think of where one of those books could be relevant however is Divination, and as you well remember I've long since dropped the subject."

Harry and Ron groaned in unison. "Are you telling me?" Harry asked looking physically sick as he spoke, "that we have to suck up to Trelawney?"

Ron was sporting a matching look as he began protesting profusely. "No bloody chance! That'll totally ruin our well-earned reputation as slobs and scallywags! What'll the others think?"

"Frankly Ron," Hermione said curtly, "I don't much care what they think. As long as it'll get us some more information on this prophecy the entire school could think the two of you were lovers for all I care."

That comment effectively shut both boys up and they hurriedly concurred to think up a reason for getting one or preferably both books.

"Now that that's out of the way," said Hermione contentedly, "why don't we go over the last part of the prophecy that continues on the page after the missing one?"

Still peeved about the fact that they had to spend the next Divination classes worming their way into Professor Trelawney's good books, both Harry and Ron shrugged dejectedly. Hermione cleared her throat and resumed reading:

...Lastly but most importantly the Strinx. The Strinx is a true seer. This person will have the ability to See the future for a person he or she is linked to through a life-altering act. The link is manifested by a mark that will identify and acknowledge the bond between them. This mark will show itself only when it is time for the Strinx to return the favour. The Unagi will be released as a direct consequence of a severe and irreversible betrayal of what is believed to be a trusted ally.

"That's it," she said and shut the book. "Not too much to go on, is it?" Harry replied sullenly.

The rest of the afternoon was spent discussing the little new information they had gotten. Both Hermione and Ron adamantly claimed that it was rather obvious that Harry was the heir to Gryffindor. Harry protested loudly claiming that surely someone would have told him already if that was the case, but deep down he knew it easily could be true. Dumbledore hadn't exactly been forthcoming about important things over the years and it would be just up his alley to keep something like this from him for some reason or the other. And he mused; he had managed to pull Godric Gryffindor's sword out of the Sorting Hat a couple of years ago. Maybe that was just something direct descendants could do for all he knew.

They also spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out in the aid of what the heir/Harry would conquer the evil threat/Voldemort. The Strinx was obviously one of these things but seeing as an entire page was missing it was highly likely that there was something more too. Sadly they were at a complete loss as to what this might be.

Harry for his part had trouble focusing on the discussion. Ever since Hermione first read the part about the Strinx Harry had felt a shiver run down his spine and the tingling sensation had yet to leave him. Key words like True Seer, ability to see the future for a person that he/she is linked to through a life-altering event all made him instinctually think of Ginny. He didn't say anything about this to Ron or Hermione but as they discussed the prophecy into the night (the relocated to the common room when the other boys wanted to go to sleep) Harry couldn't stop thinking about one thing.

Could Ginny be his Strinx?

* * *

Over the next couple of days Harry did his best not to think about the Prophecy of the Strinx. But for very obvious reasons that was a lot easier in theory than in practice. The question "Could Ginny be my Strinx?" seemed to have been permanently latched to his brain, and with each passing day Harry grew more and more certain that the answer to that question was yes. It all fitted perfectly, from her many forewarnings to the life-altering experience. Surely saving her life in the Chamber of Secrets should be considered life-altering, shouldn't it?

A part of him felt as though he should be overjoyed by this revelation. Not only were they on their way to a serious breakthrough with regards to the prophecy, but also the girl he liked more than he cared to admit appeared to play an important part in it. It would mean a perfect opportunity to get even closer to her without raising any of her many brothers' suspicion.

But there was also a considerable downside to all of this. If Ginny should turn out to be the Strinx she would be an obvious target for Voldemort. And it would all be because of him, and that was not something Harry was willing to expose her for if he could help it.

In a futile attempt to block the thoughts of Ginny and this blasted prophecy out of his head Harry began to avoid Ginny as much as he could. He of course had to see her at Quidditch practice but aside from that he tried to stay out of her way. This was made very easy as Ginny appeared to have taken a leaf out of his book. More often than not she would abruptly exit the room as soon as he, Ron or Hermione entered. Luckily neither Hermione nor Ron seemed to take any notice of this, or if they did they never mentioned it.

True to their word Ron and Harry had reluctantly started a charm offensive towards Trelawney, handing in extra credit parchments and volunteering to help clean the orbs. The whole process sickened them to the core, but the threat of Hermione's impending wrath lingering over them made them grit their teeth and continue the show. Thankfully Professor Trelawney was easily wooed and just two weeks later they very gleefully presented Madam Pince with a signed parchment stating that both books in question was needed for their next assignment. She however was significantly less enthusiastic.

And as if life at Hogwarts wasn't strange enough as it was, something very peculiar happened during a particularly cold Care of Magical Creatures lesson. While tending to the designated beasts of the day Harry noticed Ron behaving rather oddly. Now and again he would throw a withering glance at Malfoy, start towards him or wave casually in the Slytherin's direction. The really surprising thing however was that Malfoy looked almost scared shitless every time this occurred. Harry had never seen him looking paler but most unusual of all was the total lack of viscous comments and insults.

Hermione noticed this too, but Ron insisted that they were both mental when they brought it up.

"Why would Malfoy be scared of a measly little Weasley?" he asked shrugging.

"You tell me," Harry had ventured but Ron had just laughed.

"The git probably just grew a conscience and decided to let us alone from now on." Harry and Hermione had snorted incredulously but Ron had refused to discuss it further and in the end the matter was dropped.

If it weren't for the upcoming game against Hufflepuff Harry would probably had pursued the topic, but as the game drew nearer all the boys could think about was Quidditch. And if Harry had thought Oliver Wood had been a slave driver with his six o'clock morning training sessions, that was nothing compared to the Regime of Ron.

By now he had more or less taken over the responsibility for tactics and practices with George as a mere bystander. Not that this seemed to bug the prankster noticeably seeing as it left him with significantly more time to partake in activities such as joke-inventing, prank-pulling and Alicia-snogging.

After weeks of furious training, the day of the match finally dawned. It was a clear yet cold February morning and the stands were full to bursting with excited students and professors. Ravenclaw had beaten Hufflepuff just before Christmas and so Hufflepuff needed a victory today to avoid yet another year as the bottom team. Both Slytherin and Ravenclaw were showing support for Hufflepuff, Slytherin for obvious reasons and Ravenclaw probably because they wanted to beat Gryffindor in the cup this year.

In the changing room all seven players had their eyes on Ron who was pacing excitedly around the room offering last minute advice and encouragement.

"Remember what I told you about leaning more to the right, Katie? That'll give you much better balance. The same goes for you Alicia. And keep a look out for my signal; when I send up orange sparks you three break into the Rudo-formation."

Ron was looking flustered and ecstatic his hair sticking up in all directions. "Fred and George, I want you to pay special attention to their new chaser, I've seen her on practice and she's really good. Keep her busy dodging Bludgers and I guarantee most of their offensive play will be ruined." Fred and George swung their bats over their left shoulders in perfect unison and saluted.

Ron let his gaze travel to Max and his expression changed from fervour to annoyance. "You," he said in a flat and aloof voice, "you just guard the hoops or die trying."

Harry hid a grin in his Quidditch gloves. Oliver Wood had told him the same thing once and although Harry had emerged from that game still breathing (though just barely) he had a notion that Ron was half hoping Max would take his words literally.

After a final passionate pep talk, they gathered their brooms and flew in formation onto the stadium to thunderous applause from the Gryffindor side. The Hufflepuff team entered moments later and soon the game was on.

Harry soon noticed that Ron was absolutely right about Hufflepuff's new Chaser. She was nothing short of superb. Fred and George soon complied with Ron's advice and started pounding the bludgers in her direction. That effectively broke off the Hufflepuff offence and fifteen minutes into the game Gryffindor was leading 70 to 10.

So far Harry hadn't seen hind or hair of the Snitch. He'd been flying high above the game keeping one eye out for the golden ball and the other one on the game. It was however growing somewhat boring with Gryffindor being so superior and all. As he flew by the part of the tribune where the professors were seated he quickly scanned the rows and almost lost control of the Firebolt when he noticed Percy sitting there talking animatedly with professor Sinastra. What on earth was he doing here?

Filing this question away for later pondering Harry went back to scanning for the Snitch. He'd barely flown ten feet however when the unmistakable sound of a bludger approaching caught his attention. Turning his head Harry's suspicion was very much confirmed as one of the nasty balls was heading straight for him. He swooped easily out of the way catching a glimpse of one of the Hufflepuff beaters, Stuart Smythe who'd evidently sent it at him. Nice try, Harry thought smiling cheekily in Stuart's direction and resumed searching for the Snitch.

Not two seconds later however he had to dodge yet another Bludger, and once again that Smythe bloke was the one knocking it furiously in his direction. What have I done to piss him off? Harry wondered briefly as he spiralled out of the way for the third time. Turning his head he could see him raising his bat preparing to hit the Bludger once again. Had Hufflepuff suddenly gone all Slytherin on them in hope of winning the game?

The next couple of minutes Harry were forced to perform a series of increasingly spectacular dives and swoops to avoid being knocked out cold by bludgers. No one was paying attention to the game anymore. The Gryffindors were beside themselves with fury; Madam Hooch was blowing her whistle continuously trying to stop the game and Fred and George seemed to have made it their personal mission to stop the manic Hufflepuff. Stuart Smythe however had by now stopped trying to hide the fact that he was very much intentionally aiming to hit Harry. With a mad gleam in his eyes he was chasing him all over the pitch and Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was conjuring up Bludgers as he flew.

It was while falling vertically out of the way of yet another Bludger Harry spotted it. The Snitch! It was hovering near the end of the pitch right bellow Max, who was hovering in midair scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. Harry made up his mind in an instant. Mad Beater or not, the game was technically still on and his competitive instinct told him to catch it.

In retrospect Harry could never really decide whether that had been a good or a bad idea. In a way it was kind of both. Good because he did in fact manage to catch the fluttering golden ball and thereby securing Gryffindor the lead in the Quidditch Cup. It was however bad because he'd been too concentrated on the Snitch to pay any attention to mad boy Smythe who was once again raising his bat. This time he hadn't hit a Bludger though. This time he'd hit Harry's head...

* * *

It wasn't until hours later that Harry finally regained consciousness. Screwing up his eyes against the unnaturally bright light he desperately tried to make out where he was but it was no use without his glasses.

After a bit of fumbling around in the area surrounding his bed he found them and hurriedly put them on. The blurry vision instantly vanished and the first thing he laid eyes on was a very resigned-looking Madam Pomfrey. A loud moan immediately escaped him. The moan was partly due to the Hagrid-sized bump he quite distinctly could feel throbbing relentlessly on the back of his head but also because he suspected a lengthy stay in the hospital wing was to be expected.

"Ah, Mr. Potter you've finally come to I see." Without further ado Madam Pomfrey began what promised to be a very thorough check-up. Gritting his teeth Harry let her carry on listening only half-heartedly to her ranting.

"In all my days at Hogwarts I've never known a student more prone to accidents than you, Mr. Potter and that is including that good-for-nothing daredevil Sirius Black. If it's not because of Quidditch then it's Dementors or camouflaged Portkeys causing your delicate health to deteriorate even further. Honestly," she continued huffily, "Quidditch should in my opinion be banned all together; the sport is more hazardous and health-threatening than entertaining if you ask me. Now stick out your tongue."

Harry reluctantly complied hoping she would hurry up and finish. He was most anxious to find out what had happened after he'd blacked out and somehow he didn't think Madam Pomfrey would be willing to fill in the blanks. As if on cue the doors to the hospital wing burst open and Ron and Hermione stormed in, out of breath and panting.

"Harry, you're awake!" Hermione exclaimed in relief. "Are you badly hurt? Anything broken this time?"

She and Ron skidded to a halt at his bedside, both looking worried and apprehensive.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley! What are you thinking bursting into this Infirmary in such a rush? Have you no consideration for my patients? Mr. Potter has just suffered a severe blow to the head and needs to recuperate. I must therefore insist that you both leave at once."

"But..." Ron began.

"No buts, Mr. Weasley! This patient needs rest, not company!"

"We'll be really quiet, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione pleaded. "We just want to talk to him for a few minutes. He is probably wondering what happened."

"Yeah," Harry piped in, "I actually have a few questions..."

"Honestly, I find it most disrespectful being contradicted in this manner. If you don't leave immediately I'll be forced to take the matter to the Headmaster. Now shush!"

Hovering by Harry's bed Madam Pomfrey bore a striking resemblance of a very overprotective and aggressive mother hen. Sensing she could snap at any moment Ron and Hermione shrugged apologetically to Harry and started backing towards the door. They had hardly taken two steps however when the door opened and Professor Dumbledore, Professor Figg and Professor McGonagall walked in, all looking sombre.

Madam Pomfrey instantly let out a loud sigh, throwing her hands into the air. "What do you all think this is?" she asked impatiently. "Kings Cross? Have none of you any respect for my patients' care and well-being?"

Sending her a very grave stare over his half moon spectacles Professor Dumbledore calmly crossed the room to Harry's bed.

"Now, now Poppy, I assure you there is no need to act so brusque. You have known me since yonder days and should by now know that I never intrude on your patients unless it is absolutely necessary."

Though she still looked less than pleased Madam Pomfrey reluctantly nodded.

"I assure you," Dumbledore continued while conjuring up chairs around Harry's bed, "our visit will be brief. The circumstances surrounding his injury however make it prudent for us to talk to Mr. Potter immediately."

"Mind if we stay?" Ron asked boldly. The headmaster smiled wearily.

"Not at all, Mr. Weasley. In fact I must insist that you do. Both of you."

A few minutes later they all (save Harry of course) had taken seats in the conjured chairs and without delay Arabella Figg began filling Harry in on the events after he'd lost consciousness.

"I think it's safe to say that we were all caught just a little bit off guard when young Stuart Smythe started chasing you around the pitch, pounding Bludgers at you like a madman," she began with a rueful look in her eyes. "When he didn't stop even though Madam Hooch called a foul, it became clear to us that something was amiss. Unfortunately we were unable to stop him before he bashed you in the head."

Professor Figg smiled jadedly at Harry. "But I have to say that was some piece of flying, Harry. It was like watching your father again, the same effortless elegance and flair to the game."

Harry blushed. It always warmed his heart being compared to his dad. In a strange way it made him feel somewhat closer to him.

"The flying was bloody brilliant, that's what it was!" Ron was bobbing excitedly in his chair grinning like he'd just won the annual Wizard Lottery. "Best performance ever if you ask me! The way you expertly dodged those Bludgers and for so long, not to mention capturing the Snitch while at it. You're a ledged, Harry! No way Slytherin can beat us now, that cup practically has Gryffindor written all over it!"

"Language, Ron!" Hermione chided scandalously casting an apologetic glance towards the professors. But not even the stern Professor McGonagall batted an eyelash at Ron's colourful language as she was too busy grinning contentedly at Harry. He on the other hand looked shell-shocked.

"We won?" He looked from one to the other. Dumbledore nodded.

"Oh yes, and quite spectacularly at that. My heartiest congratulations to Gryffindor."

"Thanks, Headmaster," Ron cut in looking smug. "Always knew we'd win, how could we not with tactics as brilliant as mine? Ouch! What was that for?"

Harry suppressed a chuckle. Wearing a scowl Ron was now gingerly nursing his leg where Hermione obviously had just kicked him.

Professor McGonagall glared impatiently at Ron obviously of the opinion that the topic of Quidditch was now closed for discussion. "Perhaps we should move on to the matter at hand?" she asked dryly, "before Poppy returns in a huff to throw us all out."

"You're of course quite right, Minerva," said Dumbledore gravely. "Arabella, please continue."

Professor Figg nodded. "It wasn't until Stuart Smythe had managed to thump you in the head that I was able to storm the field. He was immediately stunned and brought to my office. In the presence of the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall I did a thorough examination of the boy and sadly it was as I suspected." Professor Figg was shaking her head sorrowfully as she spoke. "His will had been tampered with. Stuart Smythe was undoubtedly acting under the Imperius Curse."

Harry was speechless. Ron's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head at any moment and he was mouthing soundlessly while Hermione looked sceptical.

"Imperius?" she asked chewing her lower lip. "Are you sure about that? How is it possible for someone to perform an Unforgivable Curse at Hogwarts without setting off any of the wards? It is stated quite clearly in Hogwarts: A history that such wards were placed upon the castle during Grindelwald's time."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You never miss a beat do you Ms. Granger? And as always you are correct. Normally the wards would pick up on this. It was therefore indeed very fortunate for the caster that Professor Figg and Professor Flitwick had deactivated this particular ward only yesterday. It is currently undergoing a meticulous inspection, searching for flaws or irregularities. As you all well remember we had a slight mishap during the New Years Ball that led us to believe that one or more of these wards might be faulty. The Ministry finally sent over a representative to oversee the work as wards on public buildings always has to be set, recharged or modified in the presence of a Ministry-approved specialist."

"So that's why Percy's here, then," said Harry distractedly.

"Huh?" Ron whirled around almost toppling out of his chair. "Percy's here? I haven't seen him. Come back to see Millicent has he?" He chuckled mirthfully at his own joke. Hermione rolled here eyes.

"Yes, your brother was here but left in haste straight after the game ended. I daresay he's eager to deliver his report to Fudge." Dumbledore smiled sadly. "That however is an entirely different matter."

Hermione sighed dejectedly. "It's just rotten luck about the missing ward, isn't it? Now it'll be next to impossible to find out who cast the spell."

"Why's that?" Ron asked bluntly. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, can't we just ask Stuart? He obviously knows who did it, doesn't he?"

Professor Figg looked wearily at the boys. "Yes, I'm quite certain Mr. Smythe is perfectly aware of who the culprit is. Unfortunately there is a slight problem."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Problem? What problem?" Beside him Hermione snorted incredulously.

"What are you snorting for?" Ron asked glaring obstinately at Hermione.

"Honestly, don't you two ever read?" Hermione huffed haughtily.

"Yes, as a matter of fact we do," Ron responded feverously, "but never the insane amount of rubbish you do!"

"I recent that, Ronald Bilius!" Hermione started and Harry could little do but lean back on his pillows and groan. Obviously they couldn't even stop bickering under such grave circumstances and in the presence of professors, none the less. Luckily professor McGonagall cut their "discussion" short.

"I'm sure we would all appreciate if you two could perhaps finish this fascinating debate at another time." There was slight amusement traceable in her voice and Harry could have sworn she was fighting back a small smile. Hermione and Ron for their part had the decency to blush in embarrassment. Professor Figg immediately continued her explanation.

"As I was saying there is a slight problem. Seeing as Mr. Smythe is still under the Imperius Curse there is little chance of him revealing whom the caster is. That is unless he against all odds should be able to resist the curse."

She cast a quick glance at Harry who instantly pretended to be fascinated by his blanket. It was a rare gift to be able to resist the Imperius curse. In fact Harry and Ron had been the only two to do so in professor Figg's class earlier that year.

"So far I think it is safe to say that he isn't showing any sign of doing just that," Dumbledore added mildly.

"Then why don't you just remove the curse," Harry asked incredulously. That was the obvious solution, so why hadn't they done this already?

"Because only the caster of the curse can remove it," Hermione cut in still sounding exasperated that they didn't know this. "Finite Incantatem can't break it unless spoken by the one casting the spell. That is another reason why it's an Unforgivable Curse."

"That is correct," said Professor Figg sounding impressed. "I'm actually tempted to award ten points to Gryffindor." Hermione blushed crimson.

"Show off," muttered Ron but Harry could see that he was looking proud as a peacock on Hermione's behalf. Watch it mate, Harry thought wickedly, you're starting to wear your feelings on the outside. Ron all of a sudden seemed to collect his thoughts and effectively wiped the telltale grin from his face. And not a moment too soon as Hermione turned to glare at him before continuing to lecture from her bottomless pools of knowledge.

"Naturally the curse is lifted if the caster dies or receives the Dementor's Kiss."

"Naturally," Ron mouthed to Harry with a roll of the eyes making Harry snicker. Professor McGonagall and Hermione turned in unison and gave him a penetrating stare making him quickly convert his titter into an intense cough. Too intense it turned out as it brought Madam Pomfrey out of her office in a flash with a hearty portion of Pepper-Up Potion in a beaker. After a few feeble protests (it was no use fighting her, it never worked anyway) Harry resigned to gulp it down and while clouds of steam poured liberally out of his ears Dumbledore continued talking.

"Regrettably we have no real clue as to who the culprit might be. I do however think it is safe to assume that the person concerned does indeed work for Voldemort, and as none of the other wards surrounding the school have been set off it is likely that we are facing a Judas among our own." Harry didn't think he'd ever seen the Headmaster looking grimmer.

"But how do we find the guilty one? And what happens to Stuart now?" asked Harry.

"I have arranged for Mr. Smythe to be transferred to St. Mungo's first thing in the morning. Obviously we can't risk having him at the school when he is under the influence of the Dark Lord. Goodness knows what he's capable of while under his malicious command." Professor McGonagall shuddered visibly. "St. Mungo's have special wards for cases such as these and seeing as the Hospital Director is a cousin of mine we've been promised absolute discretion. We can't risk having The Prophet run a scandal front cover of it, just think what chaos and uproar that would cause."

"Yes," Dumbledore said gravely. "I suspect rumours will run wild within the school and I'll be sure to have a cover story ready if any reporters should make inquires. It goes without saying that anything discussed here today remains between us."

They all nodded solemnly. Harry was just about to ask how they would go about finding the traitor when a piercing wheezing sound broke the silence.

"Oh dear me," Professor Dumbledore said in surprise. He reached into on of his many pockets and extracted a funny looking widget with many brightly coloured wires and knobs protruding from it. "It appears that someone is trying to break into my office!"

* * *

Harry had never seen Dumbledore or any of the other professors for that matter run quite so fast before. They were out of the door in a blink of an eye leaving him, Ron and Hermione looking dumbfounded.

"Right," Ron said looking dazed. "I suppose nothing should surprise us anymore, but I honestly can't say I saw that one coming."

"Who could it be? And what could this person possibly be looking for?" Harry asked. Hermione looked to be thinking hard. "Probably the same person that put the Imperius on that Smythe boy, I'd say. I assume he's back to search for whatever it was he was looking for at New Years."

"Hope they catch the bastard," Ron said furiously. "I still can't believe someone at Hogwarts has turned to You-Know, eh Voldemort. Looks like the Prophecy is genuine after all, doesn't it?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but who could it be?"

"I've been thinking about that myself," Hermione cut in. "While I was waiting for you to lock up the brooms and Quidditch equipment, Ron I kept trying to think if perhaps there was someone acting funnily or out of character during the match."

"Yeah," Harry said curiously, "did you think of something?" Hermione shook her head. "Not really, but then again I wasn't really looking for something suspicious at the time. Wish there was a surveillance camera we could consult, that would really be helpful."

"Sur-what-the-hell?" Ron asked looking blankly at Hermione. She again sighed and rolled her eyes. "You really should take Muggle Studies, Ron."

"Yeah, whatever," Ron groaned. "Can we please discuss my curriculum some other time? Explain please."

"It's basically a devise that records the events," Harry explained. Ron still looked clueless. "It's like a Wizard photograph," Hermione cut in. "If there'd been a surveillance camera on the Quidditch pitch we could've watched the game and the stands over again to look for anything suspicious."

"Oh, why didn't you say that immediately?" Ron said breathlessly and began rummaging through the pockets in his robe. "Omnioculars," he said smugly holding the device Harry had bought him at the Quidditch World Cup the previous year triumphantly in the air. "I recorded the match for later viewing. A very helpful aid when thinking up new formations and tactics."

"Ron, you're a saint!" Hermione exclaimed elatedly and spontaneously kissed him on the cheek. Ron turned beet red, Hermione flushed and Harry pretended not to have noticed. The next half hour was spent re-watching the game, searching intently for anything out of the ordinary.

"Well," Harry said when they'd seen the recording twice. "I can't say I'm much wiser." Hermione slumped back in her chair looking disappointed and tired. "It was worth a shot, though."

"Oh, come on you guys," Ron said persuasively. "Didn't you see the look on Malfoy's face when Harry was twirling and turning on his broom? It looked like he was having the time of his life if you ask me. It wouldn't surprise me one Knut if he'd cursed that Hufflepuff."

"Excuse me," said Harry feeling more than slightly offended, "but under no circumstances do I twirl." Ron ignored this comment altogether. "It was Malfoy, I'm telling you."

"Oh give it a rest with your endless persecution of Malfoy, Ron," Hermione sighed. "It's too obvious a solution. Besides he hardly qualifies as a friendly face, now does he? The traitor is supposed to be someone we regard as a friend or ally. Malfoy has never been either."

Ron grimaced. "Why do you always manage to rule him out, Hermione?"

"Perhaps because it's never him?" Hermione offered helpfully making Ron groan again. "Just wishful thinking from your side."

"Well, if it's not Malfoy then I bet it was Snape! He was looking rather pleased when Harry was doing the dodging-mamba. As pleased as Snape can look, that is..."

"I most certainly do not dodge in a Mamba-like fashion!" Harry intervened hotly but was once again ignored by Ron.

"We should definitely tell Dumbledore to check out the grease ball!"

"Ron!"

"He's threatened Harry before, you know. With Veritaserum, last year, don't you remember?"

"Ron! He's a member of the Order, not the enemy."

"Whatever."

Harry had by now given up all pretence at paying attention to their banter. Closing his eyes and leaning back on his pillows he felt himself slowly drifting off to sleep. He was good on his way into a peaceful slumber when something Hermione said caught his attention.

"Max was acting a bit odd during the game though, don't you think?" Harry and Ron were suddenly all ears. "What do you mean?" Harry asked breathlessly.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't see how it has anything to do with this, but didn't you notice that he was pausing now and then during the game, scrutinizing Harry and then pursued to scribble something on a parchment. And while I was waiting for Ron to finish putting the Quidditch gear away after the game I decided to dash up to the Owlery to send a quick note to Sirius about what'd just happened. Max was there you know, tiptoeing up the stairs, sending futile looks over his shoulder as to check that no one was watching him." Hermione paused and bit her lip. "It was most peculiar, I'm telling you. He tied a parchment to the leg of a school owl and ran out of there like his robes suddenly had caught fire."

"Hah!" Ron exclaimed. "That's it then. He was obviously sending off a message to Voldemort stating that his mission had partly failed. I'm betting he's the one who's trying to break into Dumbledore's office." Wringing his hands in excitement Ron let out a triumphant sort of laugh. "Hope they catch him red handed, the scoundrel!"

Harry heartily concurred. "Yeah, but if they don't we sure as hell better tip the Headmaster about him. Rotten German trash!" He did all but spit as he spoke and Hermione had trouble keeping a straight face.

"Not a big fan of his, I take it," she said sarcastically. Both boys nodded keenly.

"Speaking of me putting the Quidditch gear away," Ron mused. "Guess who I bumped into outside the changing rooms, looking flustered and bewildered?" Harry shrugged.

"Charlie!" Ron exclaimed incredulously. "His robes were in complete disarray, hair standing on end and he had a stupid giddy sort of look plastered all over his face." Ron snorted and shook his head obviously surprised at his brother's behaviour. "That's not the weirdest thing mind you. Would you believe that Charles "Quidditch" Weasley hadn't even been present during the game?"

Harry spluttered and coughed up the water he was trying to gulp down. Of all the Quidditch-loving Weasley brothers, Charlie was in his opinion the most fanatic among them. And that was really saying something about his level of dedication to the game!

"Why? What could possibly be more important than Quidditch?" Harry shouted. Hermione rolled her eyes beside him.

"Honestly you guys, there is no need to get upset over this. So Charlie missed a Quidditch match. Big deal. He probably had something more importantly to attend to..."

"What could possibly be more important than Quidditch?" Ron wailed in despair.

"Teaching related tasks, the Order, family, friends, self respect, peace, human rights..." Hermione began reciting haughtily making Ron grunt in disgust.

"You're seriously a pain in the ass, did you know that?" he asked. Hermione simply shrugged unconcernedly.

"That's the second time you've bumped into him in a strange place," Harry commented. Ron nodded. "I know, and just like last time he was acting sort of funnily. Spluttering incoherently, making up bad excuses and casting futile looks over his shoulder. You should really think he was up to something not quite legal. He had this really guilty sort of look on his face, as if I'd almost caught him wandering into the Forbidden Forest or something." Ron shook his head. "Mental."

"Yeah," Harry answered low-voiced. "Definitely mental." But as Ron launched into yet another line of arguments as for why Malfoy, Snape, Max or preferable all three of them were the culprits, Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was more to Charlie's odd behaviour than they'd thought off. After all Dumbledore had said it himself just the other day: They really shouldn't trust anyone at this point. Maybe not even a Weasley?