Secrets from the Future

Secrets from the Future

By Petronilla

Chapter 13. A STORMY HALLOWEEN

The following day, Harry woke up extremely early, something that didn't happen very often, especially on a Sunday. After spending a good half hour tossing and turning in his bed thinking about what happened the previous evening, he finally decided to get up.

While he got ready in silence, being careful not to wake the others who were still asleep, he became convinced that if he was able to unmask Jane Porter, he would also be able to understand the meaning of his recurring dreams. In his mind, he began to wonder whether this girl really was a spy sent by Death Eaters, or even a Death Eater herself sent by Voldemort personally to plan a future attack on Hogwarts.

Harry quickly washed his face and grabbed the first pair of jeans and the first clean wool jumper he found, then slinked away on his tiptoes.

The common room was deserted. Outside the window, the sun had already risen in the sky and the lawns were still covered with frost. Without wasting any time, Harry exited the Fat Lady's portrait and walked along the corridor which was slowly being lit by the sun coming in through the tall windows.

The castle looked ghostly, so empty and silent. Even the portraits were still dozing in their frames. But Harry didn't pay any attention to them; he kept walking until he reached the Transfiguration's professor's office. He had just raised his hand to knock on the door, when he suddenly stopped in midair and realized how early in the morning it was. Professor McGonagall is still probably sleeping, he thought. He then stubbornly shook his head and knocked twice. I need to know more. I can't wait any longer.

After a few minutes of silence, the door slowly opened then quickly stopped, casting a thin wedge of light on the floor. Harry was only able to glimpse the slim figure of his teacher, wrapped in her red housecoat. Two wide eyes glared at him behind a pair of glasses slightly askew on her long nose. "Potter? Something wrong?" asked the teacher in an alarmed whisper.

"I'm... I'm sorry to wake you up so early, Professor," started Harry, feeling guilty. Honestly, it wasn't a life or death matter. "I just need to talk to you. It's a personal matter."

Professor McGonagall sighed in relief. A moment later, she adjusted her glasses on her nose and regained her usual sternly composure as she opened the door and let Harry in. "Come in Mr. Potter. Would you like to have a biscuit?"

Harry closed the door behind him and followed the teacher to her long mahogany desk. The study was dark, as the curtains one the windows were still shut. The fire was burning lively in the fireplace, in front of it a comfortable rocking chair was moving slightly. On the wall shelves were a great amount of books, all of them arranged in perfect order.

Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk and handed him a box of ginger biscuits. Harry took a seat in front of her and accepted a biscuit, more to be polite than from being hungry. "So, what's this personal matter that couldn't wait until a more reasonable hour?" asked the teacher as she interlaced her fingers, setting them on the desk and staring at the boy with deep attention.

"Well... it's something concerning your subject," Harry started, nervously crumbling the biscuit in his hands. "More precisely, human transfiguration."

The teacher took a deep breath, switching into a mode which was much easier for her. "Was there something difficult about our last lesson, Mr. Potter? Something you're having a difficult time understanding? If you can tell me exactly what's not clear to you, then I would be happy to give you a more careful explanation. Maybe you wish to expand your understanding of the Metamorphosis Charm? Or are you still having problems changing the colour of your hair or your eyebrows? I understand that in the beginning it may seem difficult, but I can assure you that if you practice regularly, within a few months everyone of you will be able to..."

"To be honest, that isn't exactly what it is," Harry cut her off, feeling more and more nervous.

"Well, perhaps then you're having trouble cancelling the effects of the Metamorphosis spell? Being able to go back to your original hair colour or choosing a brighter shade of colour instead of the one..."

"There is a particular question I have in mind," Harry cut her off again. Professor McGonagall inhaled deeply this time, clearly forcing herself to not scold him.

"Will you tell me what's the matter, then? Or are we going to stay here until the start of lessons tomorrow morning?"

"I need to know what is the most effective way to discover if a wizard is using a disguise or not."

"Why don't you give me an example? Simply, using your own words."

Harry thought about it for a few seconds, trying to find the right words to use without alarming his professor too much. "Let's say that I'm on a top secret mission for the Order and so as to not get caught, I've changed the shape of my nose, the colour of my skin and also... the colour of my eyes. What would the enemy try to cancel my disguise and discover who I truly am?"

A pleased smile appeared on Professor McGonagall's face. "Very good, Mr. Potter. I see that you're still taking seriously your plans to become an Auror." Harry stared at her puzzled, but didn't cut her off this time and kept listening. "One of the subjects taught in Auror training by the Ministry of Magic is Art of Camouflage, but I didn't believe that you were already so interested in such advanced topics."

The teacher looked at him from head to toe through her round glasses, trying to read anything from him. Harry remained silent, putting on an innocent air for fear of letting slip his true reasons. After all, he had nothing concrete, no proof that Jane was guilty of anything. His curiosity was just born of the fact that she was incredibly similar to the little girl with green eyes, about whom he was dreaming every night.

"Well, I could easily dwell on a long, detailed explanation about the scientific mechanism that leads to human transfiguration..." Harry frowned at her worriedly; McGonagall then quickly added, "but I realize that this isn't the right time or place. Why don't we plan a few private lessons during the next few weeks so that I may be able to introduce you to the Art of Camouflage?"

Harry didn't know what to say. Certainly it wasn't a good idea to undertake more school commitments, however he didn't want his professor to get suspicious. "Oh, that would be great," he replied. "But I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it... you know, with all the other subjects and the end of term examinations so near."

Professor McGonagall stared at him sternly. "It'll just be one meeting per week, and I'm sure that the studying of this subject will benefit your school career, Mr. Potter." Since Harry didn't look quiet convinced, she added, "Or, we could easily start our private lessons next term, if it's more convenient for you."

"Yes!" exclaimed Harry quickly... maybe too quickly. "Yes, that would be great. Thanks." He then realized that she had not answered his question yet and the time was getting late. "Going back to my original question, if I had suspicions about someone in particular and wanted to unmask him, what would I...?"

McGonagall frowned at the boy and inhaled again, this time so deeply that her nostrils flared as they always did when she felt displeased. "As I will explain during our lessons next term, the secret to being a good Auror is to obtain the maximum result with a minimum of risk. First and foremost, the primary goal is to not do anything hazardous or reckless. You should always think to your safety first. In other words, not getting in trouble, as you always do!"

Harry just nodded and lowered his head to hide a smile. After all, he was famous for his ability to get into trouble.

"The other extremely important thing to consider is your situation. To be blunt, how much time have you at your disposal before you might get killed."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He'd never thought about it in such an extreme way.

Professor McGonagall continued with her explanation. "If for example you meet one of your friends in Knockturn Alley, and it's very late at night and this friend of yours is carrying a bag over his shoulder. And that bag is dripping a dark substance that looks like blood..." The teacher stopped, pleased at the shocked look on Harry's face, pleased that he was considering things he had never before. "And you want to be absolutely certain that he is your friend and not a Death Eater with a disguise. Well, in that case I would suggest you cast an Unmasking Spell immediately, without wasting time thinking about it."

Harry swallowed with difficulty. "Yeah, I agree."

"On the other hand, if you're working as a spy and you've found yourself in a safer position, I'd suggest you to take your time and collect as much information as possible about the wizard in question, doing your best to not be uncovered. You might question the people around him, track his origins, who his parents are, who his friends are, and so on until you get a much clearer idea of the entire picture."

McGonagall then stood up and went over to the window to open the curtains. The weak morning light lit the room. Harry knew it was time to leave, but there still was something he wanted ask.

"I have one last question, Professor," dared Harry, standing up as well. "If you don't mind."

Professor McGonagall turned to him, her eyes narrowing in patience growing thin.

"If a wizard who is using camouflage has been cursed..." Harry recalled the curse cast by Malfoy the previous night. "For example, if he has been hit by the Conjunctivitis Curse, is it possible that the camouflage loses its effects and even vanishes for a short time?"

"I must remind you that the greater the wizard's will power, the more resistant is his camouflage. But you're right. If a wizard's power has been weakened during a battle, then also his camouflage could be damaged and weakened."

Harry's eyes suddenly lit up. That was the first confirmation on his suspicions about Jane. "Thank you so much, Professor. That's all I needed to know."

***O***

The Great Hall was full of students. The weather wasn't very good, but at least it wasn't raining and was possible to take a walk outside in the gardens after breakfast.

Harry sat alone at Gryffindor table. After his talk with Professor McGonagall, he had been among the first to enter the Great Hall. With an attentive stare, he concentrated on each student as they sat down at the four House tables. Without touching his food, he kept thinking about the best way to gather information about Jane Porter. His gaze rested on each student in turn, known and unknown. Each time, he asked himself the same question: Who would be able to provide him with that crucial clue?

Just then, Theo Mustle entered through the large doorway. The boy smiled and greeted Seamus and Dean with a wave of his hand; they joined him immediately. They were two with whom he had made good friendships in the past months. The three of them stood by the entrance, chatting.

Why not Theo? Harry asked himself, staring at the boy. It looks like he and Jane are great friends. But then he realized that maybe they were too good of friends. I doubt Theo would tell me anything at all, he decided, rejecting the idea.

Not far away from him, Ginny had just taken a seat with a group of girls. I could ask Ginny! They're together in class. Maybe Jane mentioned something about her family. After thinking about it, he finally decided this was the better idea, even if he wasn't sure how much Ginny knew about Jane.

Harry sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. He beginning to feel tired from waking up so early. All the thinking and planning and wondering was starting to give him a headache.

"You're an early riser today, mate." Ron's voice brought him back to reality. "Problem?" he asked, taking a seat close to him and filling his plate with fried eggs and bacon.

"Nothing new... nightmares and thoughts. In short, another horrible night for me," Harry replied, pouring some pumpkin juice in his glass. "You didn't tell me how it ended last night. Did McGonagall gave you detention, or what?"

"Nothing of the sort, mate. She just scolded us and then let us go. After all, nobody got hurt seriously, apart from poor Jane Porter. By the way, how is she?"

"Fine... I suppose," commented Harry, pointing toward the entrance where Jane was coming in, followed by her usual group of admirers.

After the Transfiguration task, she had become the most popular girl in the school and many of the boys did anything and everything to be noticed by her. Someone was carrying her books for her and someone else was rushing to be the first to pour the tea in her cup.

"Ah, that's a winning girl. After breakfast I'll go and ask her how she's doing. I can't forget that I'm the captain of the team and it's my duty to see to the wellbeing of my champions."

"I can assure you that she's perfectly fine. There's something else we should worry about," Harry commented sarcastically, provoking Ron's indignation.

"What the hell are you talking about? That girl is all right, I swear!"

"How can you be so sure about it? After all, she's just arrived here and none of us truly knows her. I bet she's hiding something from us." Harry looked around, wary, then moved closer to Ron who was frowning at him. "What if Jane was a spy?" he whispered, grave.

Ron shook his head as if his best friend had just made the most idiotic statement of the century. "You're always seeing enemies everywhere. Have you any proof, by chance?" he asked, biting a sausage.

"Not really, but I'm on the right path," replied Harry simply, after swallowing a forkful of scrambled eggs.

"Well, I'm warning you. If you've got plans to go out and discover Jane's secrets, that's fine with me. Just don't get in trouble. And DON'T get Hermione furious again."

"Why would I get Hermione furious?" asked Harry, clueless.

"Are you kidding? She caught you two walking together, romantically, a few nights ago."

"We WEREN'T walking romantically!" Harry corrected him, feeling his temper begin to rise.

"Yes, I know, I know. Anyway, from that night on though, as soon as someone even mentions Jane's name, Hermione gets mad. You know her, don't you?"

Harry nodded, serious. He had to admit that Ron was right. Maybe the best thing to do was to tell Hermione exactly what his suspicions about Jane were. "I'll talk to her!" he exclaimed, determined, as he poured some more pumpkin juice into his glass.

Ron shook his head again and stared at his friend, worriedly. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he suggested. "If I were you, I'd do anything I could to not... get... Hermione... angry," he said, emphasizing the last few words.

"Why should I get angry?" Hermione's voice made them jump in their seat. Ron's mouthful of food went down the wrong way, while Harry almost sprayed his pumpkin juice on Ernie Macmillan who was walking in front of them right at that moment. She kept staring at them, amused, while Ron was doing his best to regain his breath and Harry was drying his chin with a napkin.

"Did I interrupt anything?" she asked quietly, sitting between them and pouring herself some hot tea. "You weren't by chance talking about... her, were you?" Hermione asked as she pointed to the opposite end of Gryffindor table where Jane was having breakfast, surrounded by a crowd of fans.

"N-no! Nothing of the sort!" Ron hurriedly answered. "We were just... just... tell her, Harry."

Both boys frowned at each other over Hermione's head, betraying their embarrassment?

"You're so pathetic, both of you," Hermione scolded them, shaking her head in resignation. She then quietly sipped her tea and regained her usual know-it-all attitude. "You want to talk about Jane Porter? Well, let's talk about her, then. Would you like to talk about the fact that she's just a flirty, full-of-herself little thing who would do anything to gain a crumb of notoriety? Believe me, as soon as we get another champion after the Defence competition, nobody in the school will even remember her name."

Harry swallowed with difficulty, realizing that it wouldn't be easy to explain his plan to Hermione. Nevertheless, he was determined to do it. He didn't want to keep any more secrets from his girlfriend.

"I need to tell you what's happening to me," he started, mysteriously. He then told his friends about the dreams he was having every night and the little girl with green eyes. He told them what had happened with Jane in the hospital wing the previous evening and also the suggestions Professor McGonagall had given him that morning. When he finished, Ron and Hermione were staring at him with a very astonished look in their eyes.

"If I understand right, you believe that there is a connection between the little girl you're dreaming of and Jane Porter," summarized Ron, scrunching his face up in concentration. "And also, you think that Jane has changed the colour of her eyes from green to brown because... because... I'm sorry, I didn't get that one."

"Because she's got something to hide! And this is exactly what I want to find out!" exclaimed Harry. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything at all. Maybe she just wanted to be prettier and she just changed the colour of her eyes for this stupid reason. But there's something that I don't get about this situation, and I need to understand what that is."

"Of course there's something you don't get about this situation!" slammed Hermione, who had remained in silence until now. She looked around, wary, then lowered her voice, forcing the other two to come closer. "Let's say that Jane Porter really is one of Voldemort's spies. Let's say that she's used telepathy to send those odd dreams to Harry. Don't you think that she could be a really, really dangerous person? I'm not just talking about the school safety here. I'm talking about Harry's safety."

The three friends stared at each other for a few seconds, thinking over Hermione's words. She then broke the silence, speaking with a grave tone. "We need to go to professor McGonagall right away and expose Jane Porter."

"No, I don't think that's a good idea. It's too early," replied Harry, disappointed. "We haven't any proof. How can we go to McGonagall now? After all, these dreams aren't my usual nightmares... the ones that have tormented my nights for the last few years. Honestly, I haven't had nightmares about Voldemort for quite some time." Harry stopped, thinking about what he'd just said. "It's as if... as if someone has closed the connection between me and Voldemort. I don't know why, but it's just so."

Harry snapped out of his pondering and added, "we need to get something concrete before going to McGonagall. We need to get as much information about Jane as possible."

"You won't do anything of the kind, Harry Potter!" exclaimed Hermione, frowning at him. "We don't know anything about that girl. We don't know what her true intentions are, and you won't put your life in danger in such a careless way. Please, promise me that you won't get any closer to Jane Porter, and that you won't talk to her, even if she's the last witch on earth!"

Harry was deeply affected by Hermione's words; he had never seen her like this. A deep fire was burning in her eyes, a fire fed by the fear of losing the man she was in love with. Her request, spoken with such determination, Harry could not reply with a 'no.' He looked directly into her eyes, then spoke in resignation. "I'll do as you ask... if you don't give me any other choice."

"You won't need to worry about anything else, Harry. Ron and I will sort it all out. Won't we, Ron?" Hermione looked at her other best friend to get his confirmation; Ron nodded, seriously. "We'll tell McGonagall everything we know."

Harry knew that his behaviour was not out of weakness or fear, but rather from his deep love for Hermione. For the sake of his love for her, for the first time in his life, he surrendered... he let it go... he gave up. He would not continue his investigation of Jane Porter. Now, it was up to Hermione and Ron.

He cast a quick glance to the opposite end of the table. Jane had just stood up and had joined Theo at the main entrance. They exited the Great Hall together. Those two certainly seem to be great friends, almost accomplices even, he thought, watching them until they left.

"We should probably mention to McGonagall Theo Mustle as well. Just to be safe," commented Ron, giving words to Harry's thoughts.

***O***

The following week passed quietly, even though Harry kept dreaming about the little girl almost every night. From his point of view, nothing had changed that much, except for the fact that now that he'd promised Hermione that he wouldn't go digging around anymore, it made him feel increasingly helpless and frustrated.

Ron and Hermione went to Professor McGonagall and told her about their suspicions about Jane Porter and Theo Mustle. Their teacher listened to them carefully, but didn't seem to be particularly alarmed. She tried to calm them down and reassured them that she would personally take care of this situation. Harry wasn't at all satisfied with this vague response.

Weeks flew by. Soon it would be Halloween, but instead of being excited for the coming holiday, most of the students were wondering if they still had anything to celebrate in those horrible days of war. The attacks and suspicious kidnappings were happening so frequently that everybody in the magical world feared to leave their homes, even for a quick walk.

Against every expectation, Harry was starting to see differently the private lessons Magnus Erudio was giving him. Doing something specific to get ready for his battle against Voldemort was of great comfort to him. Thanks to the warlock's wise suggestions, he was slowly learning how to control his emotions and also how to master his new powers. He had come to know Erudio better and now appreciated his method of teaching, which was really quite unorthodox.

For example, one day, Erudio asked Harry to meet him in the kitchens. There, a group of house elves was waiting for him. Each of them had a large tray filled with raw meat, set on top of their bald heads. For the next two hours, Harry had to cast fireballs to cook the meat and of course, do his best to hit the poor house elves. Luckily for them, Harry's aim was very good, and with only a few burned ears and a couple singed fingers, all of the trays of meat were perfectly prepared, ready for dinner time.

On another occasion, Erudio asked Harry to again come to the kitchens, this time after dinner. His task was to clean all the dirty dishes, summoning from thin air small vortices of water that he would have to carefully aim and throw at the dishes. After having almost flooded the kitchen, he apologized by creating a powerful tornado that dried everything. All this turmoil incurred the house elves' anger, who said goodbye to them less enthusiastically than usual that night. They didn't want to see him in the proximity of the kitchens again.

All throughout this, little Dobby always remained close to Harry, encouraging him to do better.

One evening, Harry was returning to the common room after one of his usual private lessons with Erudio. This time, the warlock asked him to find a few small objects that Dobby had previously hidden in the dungeons. Starting with a fair amount of difficulty, in less than an hour, he had managed to find all of them, using his ability to read Dobby's mind.

It was very late at night and everywhere was silent. Harry was coming out of the dungeons, heading back up to the upper floors. He was feeling rather proud for how he had finished the lesson. Next time I'll need even less time to find the objects, I'm sure of it, he kept repeating to himself.

He had just walked by the Potions classroom when suddenly the door opened and Professor Snape appeared in front of him. "Potter! I see that you still haven't lost your nasty habit of wandering about the castle so late at night?" He was glaring at Harry from head to toe, great scorn pouring from his narrowed eyes.

Harry slowly turned to him, trying not to lose his calm. He had not forgotten what the Potions master had done for him the previous year. Snape had saved his life. But he also could not forget that from the beginning of the school year, Snape's attitude toward him had become even more embittered that ever before, for no apparent reason. In class, he still kept taunting him, asking pointless questions, and ridiculing him in front of the others. Tired of this, Harry had started to react, answering back to the teacher's provocations, more than once already.

Harry couldn't restrain himself this time. "I don't believe I have to explain to you what I'm doing around the castle."

Snape didn't lose his cold temper. "Ah yes, I almost forgot. You and that old fortune teller have become great friends."

"I remind you that the 'old fortune teller,' as you're calling him, was chosen by Dumbledore in person to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts in this school," replied Harry, starting to enjoy the confrontation.

Snape folded his arms across his chest. On his face appeared an amused smirk. "Well, he's still an old fortune teller all the same. A little touched in the head, I might add."

"Dumbledore trusts him!"

"Honestly, I think that sometimes, our dear Headmaster trusts a little too much... those who don't deserve his trust at all," he pointed out emphatically.

Harry couldn't resist it. "And you're among them, aren't you?" Snape frowned at him, Harry realized that maybe he'd gone too far.

"What are you insinuating? You're completely in the dark, boy. You don't know anything about me, and I won't allow you to use such a tone."

Both remained in silence, glaring at each other. Harry was frozen; he kept staring into Snape's eyes stubbornly. "Why don't you tell me all the truth, once and for all? What's this secret that you're keeping so jealously hidden? Why do you hate me so much?"

Another long minute of silence passed by, during which Harry realized the inner battle that must have been going on inside Snape's heart. He most likely wasn't sure that he could reveal whatever his secret was at that time. He sighed deeply, then regained his usual cold attitude. "It isn't any of your business, Potter. Besides, you couldn't understand."

"It concerns my father, doesn't it?"

"I JUST SAID... that it isn't any of your business!" insisted Snape, raising his voice. "And now you better return to your own common room before I decide to put you in detention."

Without adding another word, Snape swept back into his office, slamming the door. Harry remained alone in the dark corridor, asking himself a multitude of questions, none of which could be answered yet.

***O***

On the morning of October 31, students woke to the sound of thunder. The storm continued on throughout the entire day. During classes, Harry often remained still, looking at the rain through the windows. The weather outside perfectly reflected his feelings: grey and melancholy. He couldn't forget that his parents were murdered that same night, on Halloween, sixteen years ago.

For the rest of the magical world on the other hand, that was a night to celebrate. It marked the end of the first war against Lord Voldemort, and the "crowning" of little Harry Potter as "The Boy Who Lived."

Despite the war going on and the sad atmosphere everyone was feeling, Dumbledore insisted on organizing a great banquet, just the same. "A bit of fun will help us to remember that life isn't just battles and destruction," he pointed out. All of the teachers worked hard with the last minute arrangements for the Halloween celebrations.

That night, the Great Hall was decorated with black and orange garlands while small black bats flew around. Giant pumpkins were set along the four house tables and a large quantity of sweets and delicacies of all sorts filled the dishes.

Harry sat between Ron and Hermione, but instead of enjoying the party as everyone else was, he couldn't help but think about how much the population of students had reduced in the last few weeks. Many of them had lost a relative, friend, or even a parent and had been called back home. Those who remained at school despite that had done so as a sign of loyalty to Dumbledore.

"Then it's decided ? You'll be our champion for the Defence Against the Dark Arts task?" Seamus's ringing voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Seated at his right side, Ron adjusted his tie, looking rather pleased with himself.

"That's right, mate. And I can assure you that I'll do my best to keep victory out of Malfoy's dirty little hands," Ron replied, determined. "By the way, Harry, what do you think if we do a bit of training together? You know, a bit of quick revision?"

"Of course, though I'm sure you won't need it."

"Thanks for your confidence, but..." Ron lowered his voice, so that Seamus won't be able to hear. "I'd feel much, much better if you could give me a suggestion or two."

"No problem!" Harry replied, winking in agreement. Ron smiled, pleased, puffing his chest up a bit, very proud to the champion. He then turned again to Seamus, talking about the great difficulty that was expected during the tasks.

Harry sighed deeply. He raised his gaze and noted that the enchanted ceiling of the hall was covered by grey clouds and it was raining heavily. Suddenly, he felt the warmth of Hermione's hands on his and turned toward her.

"I know what you're thinking," she said sweetly, squeezing his hand with affection. "But Dumbledore is right. We can't surrender to desperation. Tonight's celebration will remind us that there are still good things in life, worth living for. Friendship, loyalty, compassion, and above all, love."

"Yeah..." Harry forced himself to smile, even though he was still feeling a pang in his heart.

"Hi, Hermione! I'm so happy to see you." Padma Patil from Ravenclaw suddenly appeared in front of them, interrupting them. She was breathing hard, as if she had run to reach them. "We've got a problem. Rupert Stone from Slytherin broke his ankle, falling down the staircase. Well, since now he won't be able to patrol the school tonight, Martha Moore from Hufflepuff will be all alone. I'd usually ask to another prefect from Slytherin, but I've looked everywhere for Draco Malfoy, but I can't find him. I'd have replaced Rupert Stone myself, but I've patrolled the corridors for the entire afternoon and I'm really exhausted!"

Hermione looked at her with comprehension. "Would you like me to replace Stone?"

"YES, thanks! I knew that you'd help out of this mess," shouted Padma, enthusiastically. "I was proud when Professor McGonagall asked me to set the prefect's rounds, but I didn't imagine that it would be so hard keeping up with everyone's troubles. A real hell, believe me!"

"That's fine."

"Hermione, you're an angel, you saved my life. I need to go now. Enjoy the party, see you later." Padma ran off, waving her hand at them. Harry watched her go back. She reached Ravenclaw's table, and sat with her other housemates near the entrance.

"Rather impertinent of her, don't you think? Let me say that you've been too kind with her, Hermione. She's always asking favors and you're always there, saying yes."

"Oh, don't worry, I'm happy to help the others. It gives me the chance to be... how shall I say it... more responsible?" she explained quietly.

"As if you aren't already," replied Harry slightly disappointed while still looking towards Padma near the entrance. Just then, in an awkward coincidence, Jane and Theo walked out of the Great Hall.

Harry sat up in his chair and watched both of them closely until he could no longer see them. Where the hell are they going in the middle of the banquet? he wondered. The more he thought about it, the more he got suspicious. He wanted to know more. He couldn't let them go like that.

But my promise to Hermione? a little voice in his brain brought him back to where he was. I just want to find out what they're up to, that's all. I'll be careful, he thought. He then realized that he was losing time and he still had to find a good excuse to leave.

"I... I need to go back upstairs. I'm sorry, but I forgot my... watch on the bed," he tried as he stood up, not taking his eyes from the entrance.

"You can't wait until after dinner? You haven't even touched any of your food either," objected Hermione, disappointed. She gave a sad look to Harry's plate which was filled with the same roast beef and pudding from half an hour ago. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"Oh, you don't have to. I'll be back in no time, really," Harry quickly replied as he moved away.

Hermione kept looking at him as he did his best to not turn back to her. Harry's sense of guilt for having lied to his girlfriend was rising in his heart. I'll be back soon, Hermione. I just need to find out what those two are planning, he said to himself as he went out the Great Hall's doors.

Once outside, he closed the doors, leaving the noise of the feast behind him. He looked around, but there was no sign of Jane or Theo. Everything was quiet and the corridors were deserted. He rushed upstairs, but they were gone. I need the Marauder's Map, Harry thought.

As quick as the wind, he reached the first useful secret passage he found, the one hidden behind the painting of a mermaid swimming in the sea. Shortly he was on the seventh floor, heading to Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady was busy with an excited conversation with her neighbour, an Indian witch lying on a flying carpet. The conversation was so involved, neither of them noticed Harry's arrival.

"Booby-trap!" he pronounced the password several times. Finally, with a certain amount of annoyance, the Fat Lady let him in.

"What's going on tonight?" she complained. "We can't even finish a sentence with all the students coming and going so often. Shouldn't you all be at the Halloween feast?"

Harry didn't pay attention to the portrait and rushed inside. He was heading to the staircase when he realized that someone else was there and stopped in his tracks.

Jane Porter was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, her arms folded across her chest, her gaze absorbed in the dancing flames. When she saw him come in, she suddenly stood up. On her face was the tension of someone afraid they were about to get caught doing something wrong.

"Harry? What are you doing here? I thought that everybody was at the feast." Her words couldn't hide her nervousness.

"I could ask you the same question," Harry replied promptly.

Jane looked rather lost, as if she didn't know what to say in reply. Her cheeks were reddened and her black hair was tied up in a hasty ponytail. "I didn't feel very well. I just needed somewhere a little quieter," she justified herself.

Harry frowned at her, looking into her eyes to try to determine whether she was laying or telling the truth. "It's strange to celebrate Halloween in such a horrible time, isn't it?"

"It is," Jane agreed, smiling painfully.

Harry suddenly realized that he would never have such a perfect chance to question her. Finally, he might be able to learn something about Jane's past and nobody would interrupt them, since all of the students were at the feast. But the promise you made to Hermione? again whispered that little voice in his mind. Harry set aside his sense of guilt and convinced himself it was better to take the risk. I'll be careful, he said to himself. This chance was too important.

"Do you... do you mind if I have a seat on the sofa?"

"Oh, not at all," Jane replied, indicating the empty place next to her.

Harry slowly came forward and sat on the sofa. A few minutes passed by in silence as both of them simply stared at the crackling fire.

After thinking about the best way to question her, finally he broke the silence first. "Some time ago you told me that you wanted to become my friend."

"I did," she confirmed as she coquettishly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, like she always did.

"Well, friends know everything about each other. You know a lot about me but I don't know anything about you."

"You're right," Jane said as she smiled, staring directly into his eyes.

"Would you like to... tell me a little about yourself, your family, where you come from?" Harry asked, posing the request innocently way, as if he was asking the time.

Jane thought about it. She then sat more comfortably on the sofa and started. "There isn't much to know about me. I come from a very small town, not far away from here. It's pointless to say the name of the town because it's so small that almost nobody knows it. And it isn't a nice place either. People are mean and inhospitable. Their houses are..." Jane stopped for a second. Then she turned her gaze from Harry and corrected herself. "Actually, my house also is old, run-down, small...."

"You said that you never went to a magical school before," pressed Harry, wanting to know more about her.

"That's right. I learned everything I know by reading books and thanks to my mum. Maybe this is also why I've never had many friends. I've always been all alone, by myself."

"But... you and Theo...?"

"Theo and I have known each other since we were very young," she interrupted. "Our families have always been very close to each other. His dad and my dad were best friends, when they were teenagers. Now, Theo is more like a big brother to me, that's all."

"I see..." Time was passing by quickly, and Harry was in a hurry to discover the connection between Jane and the little girl with the green eyes. "Please, tell me something about your parents."

Jane's eyes became suddenly sad. "I'm staying with my mum," she replied. "We're all alone. Dad has... he left us... a long time ago. Right before I was born."

Harry realized that he'd gone too far, touching on such a difficult subject. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

"Oh, don't be sorry for me. I'm used to living without him." Jane smiled, but it was a very sad, very cold smile. "My mum and I get along pretty well. We're like best friends... more like two sisters than mother and daughter." As she spoke, her voice began to rise, to get more urgent, almost as if she was trying to convince herself more than Harry.

For a short moment, Harry believed her, but then he realized her words were hiding a deep bitterness. The smile on Jane's face faded away and her eyes turned to stare at the flames.

"No... that's not true. I lied. Mum and I never really understood each other very well. So instead we keep argue all the time. We have a completely different view on life. Her universe is closed in by our four walls at home. I want to go out and see the world. She fears everything. I'm not scared of anything. She hides herself in her beloved books, in what is solid, that she can hold onto. I hide myself in my dreams, my hopes. But most of all, she's the reason my father left us a long time ago. He left, without any trace." Jane wiped away a tear with the back of her hand, doing her best not to turn toward Harry.

"Are you... are you sure about this?" he tried. "I mean, are you absolutely sure that it's was your mum's fault? You know, I've learned not to be too rushed in judging people, especially if you don't know all the facts." The words came out on their own, as if it wasn't Harry who was speaking.

What am I doing now? Harry asked himself, astonished. I'm supposed to gathering proof here, not giving advice! Have I gone mad? But it was stronger than he was; he couldn't prevent himself from feeling sorry for her.

Jane turned suddenly toward him, her eyes wet with tears. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know exactly what happened. But I'm sure that it was my mum's fault. She's such a tough woman, so strict and inflexible. She's always there, ready to point out your mistakes, your weaknesses. And even more, during all these years, she hasn't done anything to go look for him, to bring him back home."

Harry felt extremely guilty. Because of his questions, he'd brought fresh into Jane's mind her sad past. Oddly, his heart seemed so close to her suffering. He could understand her completely. He knew what it was like, living his life, constantly wondering the reason for all of his misfortunes .

A sudden clap of thunder made them jump in their seats. Outside the window, the top of the trees bent violently, pushed by the wind's ferocity as the rain mercilessly beat against window panes.

"I lied, when I said I'm used to living without my father," Jane spoke again. Her voice was broken as she began crying and her cheeks were stained by tears. "I miss Dad so much. You can't imagine how many times I've wanted to run away from home and go look for him myself. You don't know how many times I've dreamed of how our lives would've been different, if only Dad hadn't left us."

Harry couldn't stop staring at her. It was as if an ancient magic had just bewitched him. He suddenly felt the strong desire to say anything possible to console her. A painful knot in his throat however prevented him from saying a single word.

"If I ever have the chance to meet him some day... if I ever have the chance to be with him, face to face, exactly as I am with you now, I'd tell him... I'd tell him..." Jane was staring intensely at Harry. In her eyes was a deep emotion that went farther than words. "I'd tell him... not to leave me again, to hug me tight in his arms and let me feel that I'm finally safe. I'd tell him... that I've never stopped loving him...."

The pain Harry was feeling in his heart was unbearable. He didn't know why, but he couldn't bear the idea of seeing this girl crying, of seeing her suffering like this. He truly wanted to do something to help her and acted on instinct. Without thinking, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he moved closer to her and hugged her tight in his arms. She hide her face in his shoulder and let go in a desperate outlet.

"Shhhh, it's all right, it's all right now," Harry kept whispering in her ear as he brushed her soft hair. It was like holding a helpless, lost, scared little puppy, extremely in need of love. Jane was unable to move away from him, as if she'd been waiting for this moment forever. She desperately held onto him as she sobbed inconsolably.

Harry closed his eyes, still whispering in her ear until she started to calm down and her breathing returned to normal. In that exact moment, something incredible happened. Suddenly, he felt a terrible pain go through his body, from his head to his toes, almost like an electric shock. He found himself rushing through a long, dark tunnel, travelling at great speed.

When everything stopped, Harry looked around and recognized the place where he found himself. He had visited it a few months ago, during one of his visions: a ruined street, surrounded by broken houses. People were running away, terrified as up in the grey sky a group of dementors flew. They were moving closer, menacing, searching for someone.

Harry started to run, for fearing of getting caught. His heart began beating faster in his chest. His adrenaline began to spike, making him dizzy. Fear, anguish, and disbelief of the sights before him were beginning to taking over. Then he saw her: the little girl with the green eyes. She was running through the crowd of people, looking for a safe hideaway. Harry rushed toward her. He needed to stop her, to talk to her, to ask her why all this was happening to him. But suddenly...

"Harry? HARRY?" a voice called.

Someone was shaking him by the shoulders; the vision stopped abruptly. He felt terribly sick and then realized that he'd snapped back to reality. His eyes shot open wide. Jane was looking at him in shock, her face still crossed by tears.

"Harry!" Jane said once more, as if she wasn't able to say anything else.

At the entrance of the common room, Hermione was staring at them, her hands over her mouth, eyes wide in disbelief. Harry stood up immediately, feeling his heart begin to rise to his throat.

"Hermione..."

"How could you?" she whispered as her fists tightened in anger. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?" she shouted, without moving her eyes from his.

"P-please, listen to me. It's not... it's not what you think, we weren't..." stuttered Harry, raising his hand to his head. He was feeling dizzy and his strength was leaving him.

Hermione slowly shook her head; on her face was a grimace of disgust. She couldn't believe her eyes, yet it looked all true. She'd found them there, sitting on the sofa by the fire, in each other's arms. Her beloved Harry had just lied to her. He went upstairs to the common room to meet Jane... after having promised not to go near her anymore. How could he have done such a thing?

Standing by the fireplace, Jane watched the scene in front of her, too shocked to say anything.

"I was worried about you," Hermione went on, doing her best to remain calm. "When you didn't return, I thought that maybe something bad had happened to you. Meanwhile... you were... you were with... with HER!"

Harry moved closer, but Hermione stepped back. "Please, believe me, we weren't doing anything. We weren't... ahhhh!" He felt a terrible pang in his heart and raised a hand to his chest, grimacing in pain. He knew it always happened like this after a vision, but in that moment he would have given anything be clear-headed and explain the situation immediately.

Suddenly, the passage behind the portrait hole opened and a crowd of students entered the common room. Everybody was talking amongst themselves, agitated, and Harry was able to hear bits and pieces. "A girl has been attacked!" "Did anybody see what happened?"

Taking advantage of the commotion, Hermione mixed into the crowd and ran away, out through the portrait hole.

"Hermione, please wait!" shouted Harry, trying to elbow his way through everyone to follow her. It was nearly impossible however to break through the inflow of students filing into the common room.

With great difficulty, Harry finally managed to reach the corridor, but his girlfriend was already gone. Staggering from his dizziness, he leaned on a column for support and closed his eyes, try to regain his strength.

"Harry! Finally we've found you." Albus Dumbledore was running toward him, followed by Professors Sprout, McGonagall, and Snape. Professor Flitwick was limping behind them, but at a certain distance. "We've been searching for you everywhere. There have been an attack and Professor McGonagall's office has been ransacked. Are you all right?" The Headmaster grabbed Harry by the shoulders, showing clear signs of relief for having found him unharmed.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," he replied, still confused.

"Thank Heaven." Dumbledore tried to regain his usual composure, then turned to his teachers. "Are all the other students safe?"

"The prefects and Head Boy are showing everybody to their respective dormitories," replied Professor Sprout promptly.

"Do you believe the perpetrator is still in the castle?" asked Professor Flitwick, looking around warily.

"Everything is possible, Filius. Everything is possible," commented Dumbledore placidly.

Snape came forward, shooting a malevolent stare at Harry. "It's clear that it could not have been someone from my house, since the girl who was attacked is a Slytherin herself."

"Who... who has been attacked, Severus?" asked Professor Sprout.

"Pansy Parkinson," he promptly replied.

"We found her unconscious, lying in front of my office," McGonagall added. "She must have caught the individual when he or she was leaving and was stunned on the spot. Obviously, we'll question Miss Parkinson as soon as she's in a condition to speak. At the moment, Madam Pomfrey is taking care of her in the hospital wing."

Dumbledore stared at each one of them with a serious look in his eyes. "Minerva, Pomona, Severus, Filius, I hope you'll agree with me. I think it's time to reveal to Harry what we've discovered." The teachers nodded in silence.

Harry didn't understand what they were talking about. The only thing he wanted to do was to go look for Hermione, to talk to her and explain what was really going on in the common room. He didn't care about anything else, even if it was something top secret from the Order of the Phoenix.

Dumbledore turned to him. In his tired eyes, it was possible to see the weight of what he was going to reveal. "Harry, listen to me carefully. There is something of extreme importance we need to tell you."

Harry nodded in silence. His head was still throbbing painfully and his heart was in turmoil.

"I am certain we've discovered the way to defeat Lord Voldemort, once and for all."

A sudden bolt of lightning lit the corridor, followed by a crash of thunder that rattled panes of glass in the windows. Harry and the others didn't move a muscle.

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