Lux Aeterna

* * * * *

 
Chapter Three:Friends and Enemies

The ache of a hand slapping his face brought Remus abruptly back to consciousness. Groggily, he opened his eyes to find a rather bedraggled-looking Mira McGonagall peering down at him, her red hair awry and robes completely splattered with mud and dust. Her lips were pinched in a straight line and her expression was pained, filling Remus with a growing sense of dread. Slowly, she extended a hand to help him up, which Remus accepted with the unquestioning trust of one lately unconscious.

He stood up, noting that he seemed unhurt, just a bit shaky. The blinding pain he had experienced earlier was now gone, thankfully, but he still didn't feel quite right. A dull emptiness had overridden his senses, making him feel like a part of himself had been removed. His brain seemed to be taking unusually long to absorb his surroundings. Muzzily, he looked around.

What he saw shocked him to the core.

Azkaban was in ruins. The once enormous, towering facade now lay in fragments upon the rocky seashore, its foundations hidden beneath the rubble. The air was filled with dust; it hung like a veil before his eyes, giving the daylight a dirty, stale appearance, and making it difficult to see further than ten feet in any direction. The dirt was everywhere; in his clothes, in his mouth, up his nostrils... It was like another skin upon his own. Coughing harshly to clear his lungs, Remus looked at Mira in dismay. "What on earth happened?"

Mira looked around, as if noticing the devastation for the first time. "I wish I knew," she whispered.

A heavy stillness had settled around them, and not a sound pervaded the unearthly calm. Their companions were not far away, staring out at the rubble with dazed expressions, but luckily appearing unhurt.

It was then that Remus felt the muscles of his heart contract. Sirius, Harry... How could they possibly have survived? Turning away, he brought his hand to his mouth and tried to breathe. Mira squeezed his shoulder, startling him slightly, but he could not face her. His friends were dead. Again.

* * * * *

Eight Months Earlier

Harry rushed out the front doors of Hogwarts, struggling into his red Quidditch robes and balancing the Firebolt precariously under his arm. Right away, the wind whipped against him, carrying with it the applause and roar of the entire school joyfully supporting the teams. Harry glanced at his watch and nearly choked. He was fifteen minutes late. If Malfoy caught the Snitch now all would be lost. Frantically he sped across the lawn, hardly noticing what way his robes went on. Malfoy couldn't catch the Snitch! He couldn't!

Finally the stands loomed up before him, and he caught a fleeting glimpse of Sirius and Arabella climbing up the steps to their seats. There was no time to stop, however. The players were already in the air, and Lee Jordan's voice was booming over the pitch, "And that's Slytherin in the lead by fifty points to nothing, but I'm sure Gryffindor are only lulling them into a false sense of security..."

Madam Hooch surveyed him curiously from the ground. "Potter, I thought you weren't playing."

"Professor Dumbledore said I could," Harry gasped, climbing onto his broom. He was about to take-off when the teacher grabbed him by the edge of his robes.

"One moment, Potter. I have to call for substitution."

As Madam Hooch blew her whistle, Harry looked up in surprise. Sure enough, there were seven red dots in the air. The team must have found someone to take his place. Harry wasn't sure if he was pleased about that or not.

Madam Hooch reached into the pocket of her robes and withdrew a card with a large, red number one drawn on it, which she held up for all to see, indicating a substitution of the Gryffindor Seeker.

Play stopped, and Harry flew up into the air towards his teammates.

"Gryffindor calls for substitution," Lee explained, "Seems their Seeker is alive, after all. So that's Harry Potter in for Ron Weasley... Hopefully this will even the score somewhat..."

So Ron had taken his place! Delighted, Harry looked around only to spot his friend gliding towards the ground a short distance away. Harry tried to catch his eye, but was given a swift push by Madam Hooch. "Come on, Potter, while we're young..."

Harry took off almost vertically, scattering the throng of Slytherins trying to block his ascent, and soared up above the other players. His teammates smiled and waved as he passed, calling out words that were lost in the fierce wind that whipped past his ears. The faint cry of a whistle announced the resumption of play, and Harry quickly assumed a hovering position high enough to afford a panoramic view of the pitch.

The stands were far below him, covered in a multitude of heads and red and green banners. Players passed over them, tossing the Quaffle and beating Bludgers with dizzying Brownian Motion, but Harry quickly tuned that out. Instead, he allowed his eyes simply to scan for the tiny gold blur that would represent victory. Victory over Slytherin, but more importantly, victory over Draco Malfoy.

The Slytherin Seeker streaked past him, showing off and trying to intimidate. Harry just ignored him. To let his anger cloud his concentration now could prove fatal.

He would play an intelligent game, and show Malfoy that he couldn't be intimidated, not by vague threats and alleged controversies, and certainly not by boisterous, messy flying.

The Firebolt handled as beautifully as ever beneath him, lending an elegance to his flight that he knew could not be surpassed by the other boy. Malfoy was all speed and no control. He didn't stand a chance.

A loud cheer below him, followed by a red wave rippling across the stands announced another impressive shot by Angelina Johnson. The buzz exhilarated him, and Harry tore through the sky, revelling in the swift passage of air across his cheeks. All fears for his parents, all the anxiety seemed to evaporate in the thrill of the moment. Winding around the back of one of the Quidditch stands and emerging much higher on the other side, he hardly even needed to hold onto his broom to maintain control. Flight just felt so natural.

A Bludger zoomed by his left ear, but Harry hardly noticed. His attention was now firmly fixed on the blonde-haired boy soaring along directly to his left, gripping his broom so tightly he was almost horizontal with its length. It was an old tactic, one Harry was more than capable of opposing. Track the superior player. Good luck, Malfoy, Harry though smugly, pulling up abruptly on the handle of his broom.

And then he saw it, fluttering about ten meters up. The Snitch! Kicking his legs in tight, Harry shot upward. He knew Malfoy was behind him, knew the other boy didn't stand a chance. The gold ball glittered above him, tantalisingly close. His path was clear. He was just there...

Wham! The Bludger almost knocked the glasses from his head. Spluttering furiously, Harry was forced to pull out of his upward trajectory. Quickly he steadied his glasses and searched for the Snitch. It was gone. He couldn't hold back the curses that exploded through his lips. Where the hell had that Bludger come from?

"What's the matter, Potter? Didn't see that coming, did you?"

Harry turned sharply to face the other boy. Malfoy was regarding him with what could only be described as regal diffidence, grinning slyly from his broom. Harry had to admit the other boy held his broom in far greater semblance to the old wizarding nobles he saw illustrated in Quidditch, A History, than he ever could.

"Cat got your mouth, Potter? It's impolite to ignore a question, you know."

It was difficult not to gag at the notion of receiving lessons in etiquette from Draco Malfoy. Harry returned the smirk. "Did your Death Eater father tell you that? Or was it the Ministry of Magic when they were questioning you over your involvement with the Dark Lord?"

Malfoy's left eyebrow rose slightly. "Oh, that's bitter, Potter. You'd never guess I saved your life."

"You saved your own bloody life as usual, Malfoy. Saving me was just an annoying side-effect."

"Well, that's true, but you have your uses... I trust you haven't forgotten our little agreement?"

Harry felt the colour drain out of his face, and his surprise made the next words sound hollow in his ears. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now get out of the way or I'll knock you off your broom."

To punctuate his words, Harry darted forward, smiling at the angry shriek he left in his wake. He flew down to observe the game, which was still raging amidst the whoops and yells of the spectators.

"All right, Harry?" one of the Weasley twins yelled.

Harry nodded, jerking his thumb back at the other Seeker and frowning.

"We're tied at sixty all," came the slightly breathless reply, "A catch any time now would be nice!"

Frowning, Harry gripped his broom and resumed the search for the elusive gold ball. But it was difficult to focus on the game when memories of the other night kept surfacing in his mind. He had discovered Malfoy in the Restricted Section of the library, reading about Protection Charms. Intrigued, Harry had dared to come closer, to spy from beneath the folds of his father's cloak. Unfortunately, a sneeze betrayed his presence. So now Malfoy knew he had been there, and the agreement alluded to was apparently in place.

The only problem was, Harry didn't know what he had agreed to. What was it Malfoy had said? I know things about you that would scare you half to death, things that would show people what you really are... It was baffling. Perhaps Malfoy was just trying to unsettle him before the game. He was very competitive, after all.

Gliding to a higher elevation, Harry groaned as the other Seeker started to track him again. "Go away, Malfoy!" he called, "Can't you win on your own merits?"

"I was just going to say, Potter, that maybe we should meet to-"

Harry whipped around in confusion when the other boy stopped talking. But Malfoy was gone, swooping downward with sickening speed, chasing-

"The Snitch!" Lee Jordan yelled, his voice suddenly permeating Harry's senses with greater impact than a Bludger to the head.

Immediately, Harry dropped into a steep dive, but it was too late. Nothing could stop Malfoy now. Gryffindor would lose. His first game as Captain, and Gryffindor would lose.

Yet as his broom plummeted toward the tiny flash of gold fluttering a little off the ground, Harry could have sworn he was gaining on the other boy. It seemed impossible, even for the Firebolt, but there was no doubt about it. He was flying faster than he had ever flown before! Drawing level with his green-robed opponent, Harry caught only a flash of surprise on the other boy's face. His focus was almost entirely on the Snitch, which was rising up to meet him with heartening celerity.

Boldly, Harry leaned down on the handle of his broom and extended his wand hand. He could hear the crowds cheering him on, could feel their astonishment at his effortless control. To dive like this, without holding on must be a spectacular sight, he reasoned. But it was so easy! In fact, it suddenly struck him that the broom under his body was unnecessary. He could fly without it if he wanted. He knew it.

But the Snitch was in his hand, and he was soaring over the grass to the delighted cheers of his classmates. He could see Hermione, bobbing up and down, waving her red and gold scarf like a maniac. And there were Sirius and Arabella, smiling broadly.

Harry smiled back. Somehow, he had done it. He had led Gryffindor to victory.

If only his parents could have seen him.

* * * * *

That evening, Harry's heart was lighter than it had been in a very long time. The Gryffindors threw a wild party in the tower to celebrate their resounding victory, and almost everyone turned up, even, for a time, Professor Dumbledore, who entered under the pretence of complaining about the noise but left with rather bulging pockets. Harry's happiness had a lot more to do with the company, however, than with the mounds of Chocolate Frogs, boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans and sacks of Fizzing Whizzbies littering the common room floor. His godfather was there, and they were friends again.

Catching the Snitch had certainly raised Harry's spirits, but to talk to Sirius once more about silly things like Quidditch and motorbikes was like a balm to his tortured mind. Never before had he seen his godfather so resemble the man in the picture of his parents' wedding. Sirius joked and laughed with the other students, ate more chocolate frogs than the rest of them put together, and transformed into Padfoot at every girl's beck and call. It was as if their argument had never happened, and Harry savoured every moment.

His cold even seemed to be getting better. In recent weeks, he had become accustomed to feeling shivery and achy, but tonight he didn't so much as sniffle. He felt warmer and more comfortable than he had in ages, and as a result, his conversation had a playfulness and spontaneity that had long been lacking.

It wasn't until Fred and George finally dragged Sirius up to the seventh year dormitory for a, "meeting," that Harry noticed Ron's absence. Hermione, too, was missing. It made him slightly uneasy. He couldn't remember seeing either of them after his departure from the Quidditch stands. And Ron had been behaving so strangely lately. He was probably still jealous over Hermione, but Harry couldn't understand why he wouldn't want to celebrate Slytherin's defeat. Nobody hated Slytherin, and Malfoy, more than Ron did.

Feeling lonely without his friends and godfather, Harry flopped down into his usual perch by the window and stared out at the stars. He always liked sitting there, hidden from the other students by the thick crimson curtains decorating the window frame. It was quiet and peaceful, and provided an excellent view of the Forbidden Forest and the twinkling stars above.

Tonight, they seemed unusually bright, winking back at him with dazzling silver light that seemed to tell a tale of its own. Harry imagined he could see into the starry depths of Orion's nebula, and watch the young stars bursting into life. Perhaps if he looked long enough, the answers to his problems would come to him.

The Centaurs believed that fate was written in the heavens, that there was an answer there to every question, a guide to every action. Lives could be saved, if you only knew how to read the celestial messages. The Centaurs rarely chose to act on such information, feeling it was wrong to interfere, but one, Firenze, had.

Maybe, he could ask-

"Harry, we need to talk."

Harry turned to see Hermione observing him intently, an unusually stern expression on her face. She looked wholly incongruous against the merry scene taking place behind her.

Nodding, Harry just patted the seat next to him for her to sit down. Hermione, however, remained stock still, and looked around at the noisy teenagers in disgust.

"Not here, Harry. Come on."

She led him swiftly out of Gryffindor Tower and down the steps to the vacant History of Magic classroom. The torches hanging in the corridor outside faintly illuminated Professor Flitwick's enormous stack of books upon which he usually stood to deliver his lessons. It was very peaceful here at night, Harry noticed vaguely, but he had barely an instant to look around at the neat rows of desks before the door was slammed violently shut and the light vanished.

Harry looked around in the darkness, feeling the gloom rising in his spirit. He heard Hermione mutter, "Lumos," and an instant later her face appeared over by the door. Harry swallowed nervously. Even in the semi-darkness, he could tell she was furious. "Hermione, what...?"

"Do you know where I've spent the last hour?" she snapped.

Harry shifted to try not to knock over the books behind him. "Um, no."

"I have spent the last hour behind the Quidditch sheds with Ron, trying to convince him that we aren't conspiring to make a fool of him in front of the entire school."

"What?!"

"He's furious, Harry. I mean, really furious. I've never seen him like this... And it's all my fault. How could I have been so stupid?"

"What's happened?"

"He came to me after the match today, and started accusing me, well us actually, of setting him up. You see, I was the one who nominated him to replace you in the match today. I thought it would cheer him up a bit. But then you showed up, and now he thinks we had it all planned."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. Of all the times for Ron to get jealous! It was difficult to keep the hysterical pitch from his voice. "But that's crazy. We'd never do anything like that! Why would we?"

A knowing expression spread over Hermione's features. "To be nasty. If we knew of a certain weakness of his."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious? He thinks we're in love. He's jealous."

"Again!" Harry exclaimed. "This is ridiculous. Even if we were, em, you know, we'd never do that to him. Besides, I spent last night in the Hospital Wing. How was I supposed to know when I'd be released? Or did I fake that and all?"

Hermione shook her head and sat on the edge of one of the desks. "I know... He's just been so paranoid lately. I suppose I should be flattered."

Flattery was the last thing Harry imagined she was feeling. Ron's behaviour was bordering on obsession. But he couldn't tell her that, not if she returned Ron's feelings. Instead, Harry settled for, "So what did you say to him?"

"Well there wasn't much I could say. He was so busy yelling at me and crying over his broken heart that I barely got a word in."

Right, Harry thought, time to sort this out once and for all. "Where is he?"

Hermione must have seen the steely determination in his eye for she immediately looked uneasy. "I wouldn't try to talk to him yet, Harry. Give him a while to calm down... Come on; let's go back upstairs. Maybe he's returned by now."

"I doubt it," Harry muttered as the two exited the classroom.

As he made his way up the cold steps to the tower, Harry couldn't help but feel that life was back to its normal miserable self. In his haste to return to the warmth of the Gryffindor common room he accidentally dropped his wand down the stairs. It bounced teasingly down first one flight and then another, before rolling to a stop against an old suit of armour. Cursing, Harry rushed down to retrieve it. Yes, Harry decided, life was definitely back to normal. And then, ironically, he sneezed.

* * * * *

"Ah, there you are!" Sirius roared above the common room din. "Just in time for the grand unveiling!"

Harry smiled weakly at his godfather and strode over to the couch he shared with Fred and George. The twins seemed ecstatic, both peering into the identical black boxes they clutched tightly in their hands, and then turning to smile broadly at Sirius.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked from behind. "Oh, no. Don't tell me. I think I know."

Suddenly, Sirius hopped up and clapped one hand on both their shoulders. "Harry, Hermione, I've always said you two needed fattening up. Now, it just so happens that Weasley and Weasley here have invented a wonderful new foodstuff, with a little help from myself, of course. Why don't you give it a try? I'm sure you'll love it."

"I knew it," Hermione grumbled. "No way."

"Oh, come on," Fred enthused, "They're delicious. Strawberry flavoured!"

"Honestly," said George, "They're not dangerous."

"Find another guinea pig," Harry said, forcing a grin. "Besides, I can't taste anything with this cold."

"Well, then! What harm can it possibly do you?"

"Plenty," said Harry, walking away. "Find someone else."

Harry sat back down by the window and tried to ignore the sound of the twins and his godfather arguing over who would be stupid enough to test their new invention. He needed to think. About Ron, his parents, Draco Malfoy, but above all, about himself. So many strange things had been happening around him lately, the pains in his scar, the odd sensation he had when looking out at the Forbidden Forest, the enormous form he thought he saw out in the thunderstorm with Hagrid the other night, the feeling he had earlier on his broom, like he could fly without it, the perpetual cold that surrounded him, the incident in Divination...

Was there any connection? And what did it all mean?

With so many thoughts and fears running through his head, Harry suddenly yearned for the Pensieve given to him by Dumbledore. Unfortunately, it was back in his room in Privet Lawns, but maybe if he asked Sirius to send it...

"Sirius!" he called, "Can you come here for a minute?"

His godfather looked up from George's box and nodded. Handing it back to the owner, he stood and joined Harry on the window seat. "Honestly, Harry, I thought the Marauders were troublemakers. But we were nothing compared to those two!"

Harry forced a smile. "They say the same about you."

Looking over at the twins, Sirius laughed. Then, turning back to Harry he asked, "So what's bothering you? You're the only one not celebrating."

"Nothing's bothering me. I was just going to ask if you could send me my Pensieve. I left it back home."

"Oh, I see," Sirius said, cocking his head on one side and eyeing him shrewdly, "'Nothing's bothering me... I need my Pensieve.' Come on, Harry, you know you can talk to me."

"Look, I just want to get my thoughts in order, that's all. You know exams are coming up, and-"

Sirius looked dubious. "From what I hear, exams are the last thing on your mind."

"Yeah, well, I still have to sit them... Will you send it? If you get another owl to help Hedwig they should be able to bring it together."

Sirius looked disappointed. "All right, I'll send it... I know you have a lot on your mind, but please, will you at least assure me that necromancy isn't one of them?"

Harry found it difficult to look his godfather in the eye. "Of course not."

"Harry, you don't know how monstrous it is. Please, for your own good, forget about it."

The thought that Sirius might know how to bring his parents back almost brought tears to Harry's eyes. Why couldn't people just help him, for once, instead of standing aside and observing, ready to stop him if he succeeded, or comfort him if he failed? It only made him feel worse, betrayed.

"Dumbledore said you'd been in the library a lot lately," Sirius continued, "What were you studying?"

"I think you've already decided."

Sirius placed his hand gently on Harry's arm, meaning to comfort him. "Look, we're just trying to help you. You don't know what you're getting into-"

Harry angrily withdrew his arm and turned back to the window. He suddenly became very interested in the constellation Pleiades.

"I don't want another argument, Harry, and nor do you. Look at me!"

Reluctantly, Harry turned to face his godfather. There was a fierce intensity in Sirius' eyes that unsettled him.

Sirius moved forward until his face was less than an inch away from his godson's. "Can you accept that I'm just trying to protect you? I'm not doing this to be cruel."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. "I know... I just wish you'd help me do it. It's harder than I thought it would be. There's nothing in the library, and nobody will tell me anything..." He broke off as a sob escaped his lips.

Sirius gripped his hand. "I'm sorry, Harry. You know I'd do anything for you, but I can't do this. It would destroy you. You must trust me."

"... But he did it. Voldemort did it..."

"Dark magic, Harry. And lies. I couldn't bear to see you go down that path. You're a wonderful boy, so full of light. Don't let him tempt you into Darkness."

Tilting Harry's face to meet his eyes, Sirius added, "He wants you to do it, you know. It would be his greatest triumph. But you're stronger than that. I know you are."

In truth, Harry didn't feel strong at all, but he didn't want to worry Sirius any more, so he nodded glumly and pulled away to rub his eyes.

"Good," Sirius said, "Don't forget that... And I think it would be best for now if you stayed out of the Restricted Section. Dumbledore told me you're not the only underage student who's been sneaking in there lately, so he's going to put some new enchantments in to guard it."

Horrified, Harry looked away. Without the Restricted Section, he would never learn how to bring back his parents. He would be completely helpless.

"Forget about books for a while, Harry. Try to enjoy yourself. Besides, you're the Quidditch Captain now. Lots of responsibilities. And your keeper could use some training, I think..."

"Yeah..."

Sirius looked at his watch. "Geez, I'll have to be going soon. I left 'Bella discussing Concealment Charms with Flitwick in his office. 'Told her I'd only be an hour. She'll kill me."

"She could always join the party," Harry said sarcastically.

"Yeah, right. I think we both know she's not the partying type. Besides, one of us has to pay the bills. Might as well be her!"

Harry nodded in understanding. Arabella was far more serious than her fiancé, and something of a workaholic too. During his summer in Privet Lawns, Harry had rarely seen her with her head out of a book or her hand off her wand. Sirius often complained about her lack of a sense of fun, but it got him nowhere. Arabella was the most professional Tactical Advisor the Order of the Phoenix had ever employed, and she wasn't about to lose that hard-earned reputation over her fiancé's boredom.

Harry's godmother might not have had the most exciting career, but at least it was safe. Sirius' career on the other hand had led to the terrible argument between he and his godson that had only been resolved that very morning. He was an Auror.

It still irked Harry to think of his godfather putting his life in danger every day, but he was determined not to fall out over it again. To do so would achieve very little anyway, since Sirius was nothing if not stubborn. "How's your work going, Sirius?" he asked politely, watching carefully for any trace of annoyance at the question.

Sirius eyed him sharply, but his features gradually softened into a smile. "Fine, Harry, not that I can tell you much about it. It's top-secret, you see. But you'll be glad to hear I'm not doing anything too dangerous at the moment, just re-appropriating the fortunes of former Death Eaters. It's a bit of fun, actually. Did you know Lucius Malfoy collected Chocolate Frog cards? There must have been at least ten thousand of them in the safe. He even had Agrippa!"

"Ron would love that one," Harry said brightly, before remembering the other boy was no longer his friend.

Sirius noticed the strained look on his face. "Where is Ron? It's not like him to miss a party."

Before Harry could respond, the Weasley twins leapt to their feet and screamed, "Neville!" The younger boy almost dropped Trevor in his surprise at the rapturous reception.

"Looks like they've found their victim," Sirius observed dryly. "But go on, Harry. Where is he?"

"Hmmm? Oh, Ron. Well..." Harry gave him a brief account of everything Hermione had told him. By the end, however, he was amazed to see that Sirius was still smiling. "How can you smile? I've just lost my best friend!"

"Sorry, Harry. This just seems very familiar to me. It's quite funny in retrospect. You see, I used to be jealous of James too. He was so popular, he could have had any girl he wanted. But I knew he wasn't the type to abuse his popularity, so I didn't really have a problem with it at first. It wasn't until I started having feelings for 'Bella that I got worried. I was afraid he'd take her from me, you see. But I was wrong. James only ever had feelings for one woman, and that was Lily.

If two people are meant to be together, Harry, then nothing can stop them. I strongly believe that, especially after your parents.

Don't worry, Ron will see sense. He's just insecure 'cause you're the more worthy man down on paper. He isn't taking either of their feelings into account, and that's the most important thing. If you like, I could talk to him for you."

"Um, I don't know where he is. He's been missing since the match."

"That's what the Marauder's Map is for, Harry."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, I didn't think of that. I'll be back in a minute."

As Harry raced up the stairs to his dormitory, he could hear Fred and George trying to attract Sirius' attention again. He had to admit that for a grown man, Sirius fit in very well in Gryffindor Tower. It was as if he'd never grown up at all. Harry supposed it must have had something to do with the fact that Azkaban had stolen his adult life from him. He'd never really had the chance to grow up.

With the Marauder's Map tucked safely in a pocket of his Quidditch robes, Harry made his way back down to the common room. The small area was packed with students from all years, and they were forming a tight ring around Fred and George. Harry had to squeeze and wriggle his way through to find his godfather.

Sirius was sitting on the floor next to Neville, who was happily munching his way through some kind of sweet. Fred and George were watching Neville with a predatory gleam in their eyes, which was all too transparent to Harry.

"What have you given him?" he demanded.

Sirius grinned. "It's called a g-"

"No!" Fred screamed, "Don't say the name yet."

"Why?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"You'll see."

"'Don't know what you're all so scared of," Neville said, "It's delicious. I love strawberry."

Harry sat down next to Sirius and discretely handed him the map, which Sirius promptly stuffed up his sleeve. Quietly, he whispered into his godfather's ear, "What is he eating?"

"A Gastric Grenade."

"A what?!"

Before Sirius could reply there was a muffled bang, followed by a rapid ejection of black smoke from Neville's mouth. As the poor boy opened his mouth in shock, several teeth fell out. He then clutched his stomach in pain, glaring at the Weasley twins but unable to speak.

Hermione bustled forward to take Neville's arm. "You two!" she hissed at Fred and George, "Look what you've done to him!"

"Yeah," George laughed, "Great, isn't it?"

"Gastric Grenades," Fred announced proudly, "Only five Sickles a piece. Delight your friends and silence your enemies! Orders are now being taken."

"You destroyed his teeth!" Hermione exclaimed. "As Gryffindor Prefect, I'm going to have to report this to Professor McGonagall, as well as the names of any students who place orders."

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Where's your sense of humour?" Lee Jordan asked.

Glaring at the seventh years, Hermione helped Neville up and together they headed for the portrait hole. "I'm taking Neville to the Hospital Wing. But don't think you can get away with murder just because I'm not here. The Fat Lady spies for me in my absence."

Fred and George looked at each other in amazement. Then they moved to shake Sirius' hand as he rose from his position on the floor. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mister Padfoot," Fred enthused.

"Yeah," echoed George, "A real honour."

"Don't mention it, boys."

"-Especially to Arabella," Harry added.

Sirius turned to him and laughed. "Good point. I'd better go. Stay out of trouble, Harry."

Harry grumbled a reply and watched as Sirius exited. Before the portrait hole closed, however, Sirius waved back at him with the Marauder's Map in his hand. That at least cheered him up a bit. Maybe Sirius could get Ron to be friends with him again.

* * * * *

It wasn't until much later, when Harry couldn't sleep and decided to examine the new enchantments on the library, that he realised Sirius hadn't returned the map to him. Frowning at the realisation, he stopped at the foot of his bed to reconsider his actions. Going out without the map would be dangerous, but surely not impossible. After all, his father's cloak would give him all the protection he'd need. So long as he listened carefully for Filch or one of the teachers, he would be fine. If anything went wrong, it wouldn't really matter. Sirius probably intended to post the map the following morning with the Pensieve. So there was always tomorrow night.

His mind made up, Harry quickly pulled on a pair of old socks against the cold. The Invisibility Cloak was still under his pillow, where he had recently started keeping it for easy access. He stuffed his wand into the inside pocket, tucked the cloak under his arm, and stole quietly from the room. He noticed that Ron's bed was still empty.

Descending the stairs into the common room, Harry made a mental note of his intentions. First, he would go to the library, and carefully examine the enchantments on the Restricted Section. If he managed to get past them he would continue his research. Otherwise, he'd just go for a walk until he felt tired enough to sleep. The Forbidden Forest seemed a likely place for that.

The first thing that struck him as he neared the archway into the common room was that it was unusually bright. Then he heard the voices. One was definitely Hermione's, and the other sounded like Neville's.

Harry sighed in frustration. They would never let him go out alone so late at night. There was only one thing for it.

Quickly, he wrapped himself in the Invisibility Cloak and crept into the room. Neville and Hermione were sitting near the fire, talking quietly. It surprised Harry to hear how much more confident Neville sounded away from the usual crowd of his classmates. He was smiling serenely at Hermione over his hot chocolate, teeth apparently restored, encouraging her to tell him the real reason she was up so late.

"Like I said," she was saying with just a hint of sadness in her voice, "I'm waiting for Ron to come back. He's been gone all night."

"Yeah, I know, but... There has to be more to it than that. Did something happen?"

Feeling curious, Harry decided to stay and listen.

"We had a minor disagreement," Hermione said, looking away.

"You two are always fighting," Neville said thoughtfully. "I think he fancies you."

Staying silent, Hermione sipped her tea, but Harry could see that the edges of her lips were curved into a thin, satisfied smile. It was the look she often had in transfiguration when she was the first to complete a spell.

After a moment, Neville spoke up. "Maybe we should tell a teacher. It's nearly two a.m."

"No, that'd only make him angrier. Don't worry, he'll show up."

Neville put down his cup and looked over at the stairway to the boys's dormitories. "Well I'm surprised Harry isn't out looking for him, I thought they were close..."

Hermione sighed. "They are, usually. But I think Ron has the impression that Harry's on my side, so Harry can't really go after him unless he wants to spend the next few hours belching slugs."

"You're not going to tell me what's happened between you three, are you?"

"Sorry, Neville, I can't. I don't want to embarrass Ron."

"No, no, I shouldn't have asked. Gran's always saying I'm too nosy."

"No, you're not. It's fine... But seriously, I'd be afraid I'd only make things worse with Ron if I told you anything. He doesn't really trust me right now, as it is."

"Oh..."

Harry could see the guilt flushing Neville's cheeks a bright red. He hated to offend anyone, even when he didn't offend them. It was just his way.

"Neville," Hermione began, clearly anxious to change the subject, "Have you thought about what you'll do when you leave Hogwarts?"

"Leave Hogwarts! Oh, gosh, no, that's much too far away to be thinking about now... Isn't it?"

Hermione smiled warmly. "Well, when you think about it, two years really isn't very long. I mean, it only seems like yesterday I was fighting a mountain troll with Harry and Ron. But that was five years ago!"

Harry found himself grinning at the memory. He could still smell the troll bogies on his wand.

"Yeah, it has gone by quickly... I don't know. I suppose I'll take whatever job I'm offered. But I'll just be glad to pass my N.E.W.T.s."

Hermione eyed him severely. "You shouldn't aim so low. I bet you'll get a great mark in Herbology. Wouldn't you like to work with plants?"

Neville beamed at the unexpected compliment. "I hadn't really thought about it, but now that you say it, I guess it would be nice..."

"-Or you could follow in your Great Uncle Algie's footsteps!"

"No way! Even if people were mad enough to vote for me, I'd never want to be the Minister for Magic. All that paperwork and responsibility... No thanks."

"Still, though, you must be proud to be related to him."

"Well, he's still just Uncle Algie to me, but I suppose he's doing a good job. Auntie Enid says so, anyway, and she knows all about politics. She says he plans to destroy anyone who uses Dark Magic, even if they say You-Know-Who made them do it. He'll take away their money and send them to prison, or maybe even have them executed. He's very strong-willed, Uncle Algie. But I suppose it's a good thing. At least it shows he's taking things seriously."

"Yeah... A bit scary, though, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"The whole zero-tolerance thing. What if they imprison someone who's innocent?"

Harry instantly thought of Sirius and understood Hermione's concern.

"Well, I suppose it's just up to the Aurors to catch the right wizards, then."

"But they could make a mistake."

"Nah, not likely. I think on the whole they do more good than harm. Look at the Malfoys. If Uncle Algie hadn't called the Aurors on them, Draco would have inherited the entire family fortune. All that money and power... It's not right. I mean, there'd be nothing to stop him from bribing his way through the legal system just like his father did. I'm just sorry they didn't have enough evidence to throw him into prison for good."

Harry listened, astonished, not only at the bitter tone in Neville's voice, but also at the revelation that Malfoy had not inherited the family fortune. He remembered what Sirius had told him earlier about the Order seizing some of the family's property.

It seemed he wasn't the only one having problems.

"Well," Hermione replied, "I'd be lying if I said I felt sorry for him, but I still don't agree with giving the Ministry power over life and death. There are too many Moodys and Crouches out there for my liking."

All of a sudden, Harry shivered under his cloak. Conscious of the thinness of his socks, he moved slowly across the room to restore some of the heat to his toes. Hermione and Neville started rubbing their hands vigorously with the same purpose. Their breath condensed before their mouths.

"Phew, cold in here, isn't it?" said Neville, gazing into the contrary flickering blaze before him in confusion.

"Must be the winter coming in."

Harry found he couldn't stay still a moment longer. He was frozen to the core and needed to leave. With a final glance back at the two students trying to coax more heat into the already well-fuelled fireplace, Harry turned on his heel and left.

* * * * *

Ginny woke with a start, shivering violently under the bedclothes. At first she didn't understand the fear coursing through her veins like a stimulant, forcing her feet straight to the icy floor of the moonlit dormitory. Her heart pounded in her ears, giving her the strangest feeling of deja-vu, and her eyes seemed to search the darkness of their own accord, looking for the cause of her distress.

It seemed a surreal moment, almost like a waking dream, and it was terribly cold. But then she remembered why it felt so familiar. Voldemort was coming. He was coming for Harry.

Ginny's mouth opened wide in terror and she grabbed her wand from the bedside table. An instant later she bolted from the room.

* * * * *

Sirius hadn't been kidding, Dumbledore had put new enchantments on the Restricted Section of the library, and they were formidable. Pacing back and forth before the door, Harry let out an exasperated hiss. No matter what he did, he just couldn't push the door open. He'd tried every counter spell he could think of, from, "Finite Incantatem!" to, "Alohomora!" but to no avail.

He wouldn't have minded so much if it weren't for the fact that the door was clearly unlocked. Perhaps it was Dumbledore's idea of a joke, leaving the lock open behind the enchantments to tease him, but kicking the bars in frustration, Harry grudgingly admitted it wasn't quite the headmaster's style. No, most likely it was an oversight on behalf of the librarian, Madam Pince, the first such oversight Harry had ever seen.

One thing was certain, however, he would have to find some way inside. All the information he needed to save his parents was concealed within. There had to be some way to get to it.

Harry ran his wand along the edge of the doorframe. Knowing Dumbledore, the charm keeping the door shut would have some poignancy, some characteristic to mock anyone who tried to break it, like the age line he'd used to stop underage students putting their names in the Goblet of Fire. But what... what would he do with a door?

Harry thought frantically. Maybe he had to knock politely, or ring a doorbell or something.

Throwing the Invisibility Cloak back over his shoulders, Harry placed both hands flat on the door and began to feel along its surface for a hidden knocker. He had to jump to reach the top part, waving his hands like an idiot to check in the corners, but he still found nothing. It was just a normal, wooden, slightly cold door.

Maybe if he tried something else... Some of the doors in Hogwarts only opened when you tickled them in the right place.

Feeling completely ridiculous, Harry proceeded to tickle the door. He started across the front, teasing it gently with his fingers. When this failed, he moved onto the lock itself. Again nothing. He was just about to try the surrounding frame, when he was distracted by the sound of running feet behind him. Panicking, he swung round, but it was too late.

Ginny was staring at the pyjama clad arm floating in the corridor before her with a terrified, but not so surprised expression on her face.

"Harry" she gasped, "I found you." She took a few quick breaths. "Are you okay? I was so worried. Come on, we have to go back to the dormitory..." She rushed forward to take his arm.

Harry didn't follow at once, but found he couldn't retract his wrist from the tight grip around it. "Er, Ginny? What are you talking about?"

"Come on, it's not safe here," she insisted, pulling him a few steps forward. "We have to hide. We have to-"

Harry watched as the beginnings of doubt formed in the wide blue eyes before him. Ginny was staring back at him with a mixture of confusion and mortification on her face. Some of the buttons on her blue nightshirt were open, exposing a thin wedge of pale skin beneath.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking... It must have been a dream, or something..."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I just woke up and knew that I had to find you. I didn't even question it at the time. It was weird, I thought your were going to be killed or something..."

"Sounds like some dream," Harry said, wondering what grinning madman had taken hold of his body. "Um, maybe you should put this on." He offered her the cloak.

Ginny looked down and blushed an even brighter shade of red. "Oh, I, em, just came straight here. Thanks."

Harry helped her drape the cloak around her shoulders and couldn't suppress a laugh when she looked down at her body and gasped.

"Wow! That's... amazing. I always thought it would feel strange, but it doesn't, not really, and-"

Harry waited for her to finish, but she just clapped a hand over her mouth and continued to blush.

"Oh! Forget I said that," she said miserably.

"Why?" Harry was genuinely at a loss.

Ginny looked down at the floor, perhaps silently begging it to open up and consume her. "Oh, it's embarrassing... I just had this dream once where we went out in it together... " She saw the expression on his face. "Well, I told you to forget I said it!"

Harry felt his own cheeks blushing. Struggling to maintain his composure, he looked around the empty corridor. His eyes slowly moved from the still open lock behind him back to the girl's head floating in the air in front of him. The sight was bizarre to say the least. "Do you, em, want to go back, then?"

Ginny looked suspicious. "Are you coming too?"

"Well..."

"Harry, come on, it's dead late. You can't stay..." She followed his line of sight to the door of the Restricted Section. "What were you doing here, anyway?"

Harry considered searching for an answer, but then stopped abruptly. "What were you doing here?"

"Me? I told you. I had a dream where I had to find you, so I did. There. Your turn!"

"I was just passing by, actually."

"Really/" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yes, really!... Oh, come on, let's go back. This is ridiculous."

"Fine."

Harry turned to go. A moment too late he realised that Ginny wasn't beside him.

A small voice spoke from behind him, "Better close this door. Don't want you losing any more points for Gryffindor..."

"No, wait!"

Ginny tugged on the immobile lock. "This is strange. It won't move!"

Harry looked up at the ceiling in despair, but he could tell the dazzling azure eyes never left him. It was hard to keep scowling when the pretty face kept observing him so admiringly. He cleared his throat. "It, em, seems to be enchanted that way, probably to keep students out."

"Oh... Harry, this wouldn't have anything to do with you, would it?"

Harry was taken aback by her perspicacity. "I don't know what you mean."

"I've seen you in there-"

"What!"

"-No, not in the Restricted Section, just in the library. Why, what did you think I meant?"

Furious with himself, Harry said nothing.

"So you have been in... And you were trying to get in tonight, but Dumbledore charmed it to keep you out!"

Damn. "Ginny..."

"I knew it!"

"Please, you can't tell anyone-"

"Well, of course I wouldn't tell anyone. What do you take me for?"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and then realised he should never have suspected her in the first place. She was a Weasley, after all, and very loyal to her friends.

Ginny turned to him eagerly. "You know, Harry, I'm pretty good with Charms... I might be able to help you-"

"No!"

"But, I-"

"No way. I'll figure it out on my own, thanks."

Ginny turned and placed her hands on her hips defiantly. "Why not?" she demanded.

"Because Ron is mad enough at me right now.  There's nothing you can say to change my mind, end of story."

Ginny glared at him and walked away, but she stopped after a few paces and turned to him. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

Harry couldn't help but stare. Now that she wasn't gazing at him in hero-worship, Ginny actually looked quite attractive. The Invisibility Cloak hid most of her body, but it was her eyes that captivated him. Vivid blue, and framed by a curtain of soft red curls, they reminded him of his mother. And she seemed taller somehow, more graceful than Ron's little sister.

Ginny was growing up at last. Harry wondered that he'd never noticed it before. Swallowing nervously, he followed her down the stairs.

They hadn't gone far when Ginny let out a squeal and ran on ahead. Harry winced at the noise, but smiled with relief when he saw who was there. Watching them curiously from the bottom of the stairs was a tall, red-haired figure in a thick green jumper. It seemed Ron was back at last.

* * * * *

Within an hour the castle was silent but for the usual creaks and mutterings of the staircases. Draco slipped quietly through the enchanted door of the Restricted Section and then, stopping for a moment in the corridor outside, pocketed his wand and straightened his pyjamas. A small, satisfied smile began to appear on the edges of his mouth, but he quickly stifled it with a yawn. He was tired, but at least he would sleep in peace tonight, knowing that at last his troubles were coming to an end. His plan was so clever, so insidious! His father would have been proud.

With a rustle of silk, Draco headed back to the dungeons, mulling over the plan as he went. He was sure it would work. Getting Potter to do it probably wouldn't be too difficult; the kid was clearly desperate to have his parents back. And as his father had always said, need is a powerful ally.

Yes, Draco decided, everything would definitely be fine now.

* * * * *

Pleiades (November 15th, 2001)