The Oracles of Prodigy

Chapter Five ~

Break of Dawn

"Enough of this!" Draco Malfoy yelled, slamming his fist into one of the posts on his bed. The entire room shook under his anger, along with Crabbe and Goyle who looked puzzled at each other from the doorway.

"Draco, are you okay?" Goyle asked tentatively. Draco whirled around on him.

"Goyle! Crabbe! I thought I already told you I wanted to be by myself right now, did I not?!" he bellowed. The two boys just nodded in fearful unison. "Then get out!" They nodded again and then high-tailed it out of there.

Draco watched them go and then cried out in anguish once more before slamming the bedpost again.

"I can't take this anymore," he said quietly, trying hard to calm down. "Both sides of me fight for domination yet I want neither to win!" He clutched the bedpost with his hand, fighting the urge to slam into it again. But what Draco was saying was unfortunately true.

Two very different sides of Draco were battling for complete control over him, yet he wanted neither to win for neither side was really him. There was the side that was commanded by Voldemort. Draco didn't know how he was able to control him so profoundly; even a being with his level in the Dark Arts would have some leeway in his spells. Yet try as he might he could do little to bend the will of him.

There were rare times when Voldemort would mercilessly let his spell drop slightly, letting Draco have a small amount of time to be himself. This was one of those rare moments.

Then there was a much more peculiar side fighting against Voldemort. As strong as he was, the Dark Lord still fought a great deal against this other side, as well as Draco. It was, (horrible as it was to admit it), a good side to him. It was a side Draco honestly never knew he had! It usually was the one that broke through Voldemort's spell, like when he went to Hermione for help.

"That was haunting," Draco said painfully. Going to the Mudblood like a complete bloke was so embarrassing; but not as embarrassing as falling under her disgusting spell. Draco's face contorted in disgust at the memory. "I still can't believe I did that. Stupid Mudblood, Granger."

Draco sighed heavily. He dropped down on his bed in frustration, turning his body so he could lean on the headboard. He despised both sides in the war for his mind: the horribly evil one and the disgustingly good one. He only wanted his own; the one he had lived with forever.

First of all he didn't want to be good like Saint Potter and his beloved 'wannabe' grandfather Dumbledore, that would be entirely too weird. But Voldemort made him think things, do things that he didn't want to. He kept trying to persuade him to do something, he couldn't quite grasp it in his normal state but he knew it was something horrid that had to deal with a very powerful spell and Dumbledore's knowledge.

And every time he came near Potter, Weasley or Granger the Dark Lord would tempt him to curse them, hex them...kill them.

"But I'm not even like that," Draco muttered to himself. Sure he was nasty and loved to be higher than anyone else around him. Sure he had always wanted Harry, Ron and Hermione dead almost every time he saw them, but he didn't want to be the one to do it. To know he had their blood on his hands, their death hanging over his head...

Shaking the thought from his mind, Draco pulled back his sleeve and looked at the Dark Mark that lay underneath. He stared at it for a long time, wondering why he had it and how he got it. He still couldn't really remember that night, just the light everywhere and the pain in his arm.

"Like I said before, a few months ago I would have been proud to have you," he said to it. "But now I'm not very certain."

Then something about it caught his eye. Puzzled, Draco focused his vision just to the side of the skull. There, right by the eye was a slash. A tiny line that was a completely different color than the rest of the Mark was placed there. Draco could never recall seeing one that had that. It was a deep crimson red while the rest of the Mark was jet black.

"Odd," he breathed, inspecting it closer. His nose was almost touching it when he was loudly interrupted by a barging Pansy.

"Draco!" she squealed, slamming the door open. Draco jumped to his feet in surprise, yanking his sleeve down over the Dark Mark.

"Pansy," he muttered, letting a long relieved breath. "It's you," he said thankfully. This made Pansy smile.

"So you're happy to see me?" Pansy asked delightedly, walking to him.

"No," Draco said blandly, walking past her and fixing the cuff of his sweater.

"I can live with that," she said, still smiling. "Why don't we take a walk around the castle Draco," she suggested in her annoyingly high voice. Draco thought for awhile about this, didn't he want to be alone right now? But then his arm began to burn again, indicating that Voldemort's hold on him was activating once more. He didn't want to be left alone again with him whispering in his mind all the time.

"Yeah, okay," he finally answered. Pansy beamed wider and walked up next to him. Side by side, they left the Slytherin Dungeon and took a long, long walk around the castle, Pansy jabbering the entire time and Draco silently fighting the burning sensation in his arm.

****

"Are you sure that's all that has happened?" Leo questioned. Crystal nodded, but with a bit of hesitance. "Crystal, there's nothing else, right?" he prodded, trying to set a runway for anymore information. Crystal bit her lip.

"Nope," she answered.

"All right then," Leo said, getting up off the couch. Crystal did the same. "I'll go down into the dungeon and play with the spell a little bit. Maybe then I'll find a way to reverse it." He smiled up at his sister, and she returned it with all sincerity this time.

"I hope you find a way Leo," she encouraged, patting him on the head. He barely came up to her hip.

"I'm glad your back Crystal, I was getting lonely," he said, and then ran out of the room and down the dungeons with a smile in place. Crystal watched him go before biting her lip again.

She hadn't told him everything that had happened to Hermione, everything that concerned Harry and Ron anyway. She never mentioned that she foresaw them to be her True Loves, which if they announced their love for her the spell would lift instantly. But after knowing that they would never do such an embarrassing thing, she lost complete hope.

It was better to just let Leo think that only a spell would work on Hermione now, it would help his motivation to find one better.

"But you lied to him again," Crystal said to herself. But she brushed that thought away. She'd have to deal with her self pity later. Right now she had another dilemma to figure out.

Why had that Malfoy boy gone to Hermione like that? Why had he shown her the Dark Mark?! That wasn't supposed to happen! Crystal never even got a glimpse that it could have happened!

"Why did he do that?" she asked herself again. Crystal had seen what should have happened in the library. Hermione was to be there alone until she left; Malfoy was to be in his dorm room trying to figure out what was going on. But instead he had gone to the library.

Of all the other paths he could have chosen he had to choose the one that never existed; and this was a problem. If Crystal hadn't seen him going into the library, then he shouldn't have been in the library in the first place.

"How did he do it? How did he go against the future like that?!" she cried in frustration. "There's something oddly different about that Malfoy boy, he doesn't act like a normal Death Eater would. At times he is as horrid as any of them, and then he'll abruptly change into a poor, defenseless human. I just can't understand it."

Crystal just had half a mind to simply use her power and look into the future, but that would lead to even more tragic events. Going into the future would bring back the pain...pain that would rip at her mind and body again. And she wasn't sure if she could fight it yet. What if she returned to her insane ways?

That would cause a terrible heartbreak in Leo. He loved her the way she was, normal. Not some nutcase sister who liked to torture people from her spot in the dungeon.

"No," Crystal confirmed then, "I can't go into the future, not yet anyway. I need time to learn how to fight it, so I can't use my foresight until I have a couple of weeks break. Good thing Dumbledore isn't coming until January, I have enough time until he wants me to use it on Potter. In the meantime, I could try and master my other powers more, so that they aren't as hurtful as they currently stand."

With her mind set, Crystal left the Gryffindor Common Room replica and went down to the kitchen to, for the first time in decades, make dinner.

****

"Er-Hermione?" Harry prodded gently. Hermione hadn't moved in the slightest since Harry and Ron had confessed their you-know-whats to her. "Hermione, do you have any comment...at all?" she heard him say.

"Okay," she finally said, in a rather high and cheerful tone. She turned around very sharply and began to walk away from the two boys for reasons one would not expect. It seemed as though she was just anxious to meet Dumbledore or simply blown away by what they had said, but in fact it was because she didn't want them to see her triumphant smile.

I knew it, she thought to herself, giving up on all chances to try and chase the thought away. For some odd reason, Hermione felt no embarrassment toward this thought, and for the smallest moment it worried her.

"Is it because I'm glad that they return the feelings that I-wait a minute! They both love me! I can't possible return the emotion to both of them, right?"

"Hermione?" Ron tried as well. He and Harry had run to catch up with Hermione's small but quick steps.

"Yes?" she answered, trying not to grin or squirm in their presence. It now felt slightly odd to be caught between them. It seemed as though they towered above her, which, if looked upon the company, they did.

"Did you hear anything we just said to you?" Harry asked. "Your acting like it was nothing."

"Clearly," Ron mumbled. Hermione assured Harry with a shake of her head.

"No Harry, I heard everything; and I'm," she stuttered.

"You're what?" Ron helped, anxious to know her reaction.

"Well, I guess I'm glad about that, but still very confused as well." She stopped walking and faced them both. "How did it get like this? I mean, we never thought of each other in that kind of way, not seriously," she said. And she could tell that Harry and Ron agreed with her.

Of course she knew Ron had admired her for some time now, and she knew Harry always had this way of taking care of her. As for her, sure she steamed at the ears when other girls looked at Ron, and she couldn't help but see Harry in his wondrous hero light all the time and not melt; but never did she think it could lead to love.

Harry and Ron didn't say anything, they just looked from her to the other and Hermione couldn't read their expression. It was as confusing to them as it was for her.

"All right, I know what you two are wondering and I have to say this with complete honesty. I do love the both of you, I just don't know how I can," she finally said. She watched as Ron's shoulders straightened a little and Harry's eyes looked less blank, opposite of what they usually were.

The trio stood there for a few more moments, letting the soft breeze lift their hair and cool their faces. None were looking at each other, yet all saw the look of relief resting on all their features. It was Harry who broke the spell the air weaved.

"We better get to Dumbledore. He'll be waiting," he said. Ron and Hermione made no argument and followed him up to the castle.

"As least one thing will be going right," Ron pointed out as the three reached the oak doors and pushed them open.

"The spell on Hermione must have lifted now that we-you know, did our part." But this was speaking too soon.

When Harry, Hermione and Ron walked into the Entrance Hall there was a huge queue of students loitering around in it, and everyone turned their heads when they heard the doors open. Hermione automatically took a step back when all eyes fell on them.

"Hermione," Ron assured her from behind, "me and Harry said what we were supposed to say, remember? There's no more spell!"

"Wait a minute Ron," Harry said, backing up a little like Hermione. "I think you spoke a little too soon."

"Will you two just go? Dumbledore wanted to see us; did you forget or something?" It was obvious that Ron did not see what the other two did because he placed his hands on their backs and pushed them both forward, following close behind himself.

There was a millisecond where no one moved in the slightest. The only sliver of action was Hermione tensing up, Harry casting a horrified glance at the crowd and Ron looking at first confused at the students and then terrified like Harry as he realized what he did.

The next 30 minutes that went by went up in flames. Neither Harry, Ron or even Hermione for that matter were able to comprehend the mayhem that broke out so suddenly. All they saw when they were thrown to the ground were robes flying, limbs flailing and screams erupting from every corner.

Every boy in the Hall, excited to see Hermione from a long, agonizing wait, flew at her in pathetic helplessness. They all launched as one, none of them actually reaching her, but moving with such force that they were able to knock her down. Ron and Harry were untouched by the mob (thankfully), yet their peace lasted for just a bit.

Tired of Hermione nabbing their claim, the girls (who filled the hall equal to the amount of boys there), decided that this was the final straw. Seeing how Hermione was forcefully occupied, the girls, shallow as it seemed to them, found this time to go for two boys who had not been affected: namely Harry and Ron.

No girl there had ever dared look so undignified in front of the opposite sex, but seeing as no one really cared at the moment they all flung themselves on the boys in a vain attempt to either actually take them or make the others jealous.

Harry, trained with the Quidditch skills Wood bore into him, was able to evade the attack for a short while; gaining a couple of seconds safety. Ron on the other hand, being the Weasley that he was and adding complete uncoordination to that, was propelled to the floor in a mass of hair. He didn't even have time to scream as what seemed every female landed on top of him and began flirting, which to say was rather strange in the position they were in.

As for the boy-who-lived, Harry you would say, got the worst of the hits. He was not bombarded to the floor like his best friends; in fact, he did not hit the ground at all. The girls that did not throw themselves at Ron crowded behind Harry. Shrieking to the note of a banshee, the girls seized his arms and threw him back against the far corner of the hall.

Hitting the stone with the incredible force of the girls mixed with his lack of balance, Harry was half knocked out cold. He slid halfway down the wall, rubbing his head with one hand and trying to ward off everyone with the other. His vision blurred over and Harry knew this was more torture then Voldemort could ever ensue on him.

Swooning and cradling his head, the girls of Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, sadly Gryffindor and even Slytherin were on Harry in no time. They were checking his head and hugging him from all levels. Some held his hand and others whispered in his ear. Harry felt like taking a hot shower to rub off the strange feeling of slime they were leaving on him. When did Hogwarts students ever act like this?!

****

Ron was the only one of the three actually close to winning his battles. He would find new openings to scramble out of, trying with every ounce of might he had to reach Harry or Hermione. Mostly Harry because he really couldn't see Hermione. But every time he got so much as three inches away the girls would grab him up and drag him back into the fray.

They were more or less clawing at him than anything else, scaring him so hard that he wouldn't have been surprised if he lost his Weasley red hair and have it go completely white instead. When did Hogwarts students ever act like this!?!

"Eww! Just get away from me!" Being that of a fragile fifteen year old girl, Hermione had nothing but her words to lash out to her attackers; but it seemed to be enough. The boys seemed to think that their actions would chase her away again, so they backed off a little, residing to just admire her from three feet away.

There were some Slytherin boys making catcalls from the back of the mob, but a few of the other boys punched them out for Hermione. Hermione, herself, tried to walk free of the group and find out what happened to Ron and Harry, but her onlookers were so afraid of losing her again that they caged her in, all of them barely brushing her robes.

"Harry!" Ron yelled from somewhere on the floor. Harry heard him, but couldn't place where the voice was from. His head was throbbing terribly now, and though Harry was used to crowds of people cornering him it had never been like this.

"Oh Harry, does your head still hurt?" a Ravenclaw girl asked him.

"Yes, thanks to you!" Harry bellowed back. He really didn't care who he was talking to, it could have been Cho for all he cared; all he wanted right now was to find Ron and Hermione and get out of there.

"Why so angry, Harry?" another girl breathed in his ear. Harry swatted her away with his free hand.

"Will you girls just please let me go?"

"Why?" they all asked. One of them was fingering his Gryffindor badge.

"Because of that!" Harry cried, pushing the girl away. He stood up abruptly and shoved past his captors. "If you don't get away from me now I'll conjure up a snake and make it poison you all!" Harry knew that this was completely rude and something he would have never done before, but drastic times called for drastic measures; and it seemed this threat worked. The girls all squealed in frightened unison and backed away as one.

"Harry, please!" It sounded as though Ron was fighting the urge to cry, but when Harry looked toward his voice he only saw more girls. His head pounding with the increasing noise, Harry pulled out his wand and laid it flat on his palm so he could find Ron. He muttered a spell he knew well from last year, just altering it a bit by plugging in Ron's name.

"Point me, Ron." His wand spun around frantically and then froze toward the north side of the group. Then it began to move slowly near the south, to where Harry stood. "Ron?"

"Get off me, whoever you are! Harry, Harry please help me...!" Ron's disgusted voice broke through the mass of bodies and to Harry. Accompanying it was Ron's hand, extending out from the heap. Trying not to laugh, for it made his head ache, Harry reached down and with a tremendous tug, released Ron from the tangle of limbs.

"Th-thanks...Harry..." Ron managed. He was gasping for breath next to Harry, doubled over and resting his hands on his knees. It looked as though his air supply had been pressured out of him by the weight of the girls.

"Don't mention it," Harry answered, massaging his head. He looked at Ron's group of captors and his own. His still seemed frightened by him and Ron's looked as though they hadn't noticed Ron's absence. "This is bizarre. When have you ever seen Hogwarts students act like this?!"

"I don't know," Ron said, straightening up. "But I've got a bad feeling about everything. All this, I mean. They're acting like animals!" He glared around the hall in astonishment.

"I know, but we have to find this out later. Dumbledore is still waiting for us. Come on, we've got to get Hermione."

"Okay," Ron answered. Harry led the way to the male population of the hall and heard Hermione's exasperated voice.

"I don't even know who you are! Just please, stay away. N-no, I mean it, get back...NOW! Thank you."

"Hermione?" Ron called over the crowd. He saw that Harry was in immense pain, so he decided to handle the saving himself.

"Thanks Ron," Harry groaned.

"Just paying back the favor," Ron answered, leading Harry to a safe alcove near a statue. The lump that had miraculously grown on his head could have rivaled a dragon egg.

"Just find her quickly," Harry encouraged, glancing at the group hiding their best friend.

"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered, though he made sure Harry was okay before venturing into the male fray.

From his safe alcove, Harry could see his own pack of girls losing their fear and gaining the hungry glint in their eyes again. But wait a sec-what was this?!

Harry shook his head to clear his vision, wondering if he was just seeing things due to his pounding head. He looked into their eyes again, sure that he was just imagining the golden haze covering the girls' eyes, but no; there it was. It was as though their vision was being clouded, clouded by a golden blanket that shimmered endlessly and let them see what wasn't really there. They looked like-like the boys that Hermione had put under her spell.

"Ron's right, something isn't right here," Harry whispered. But he didn't have time to think about it because now they had spotted him and had claimed him once more as their target. Right away the squeals and catcalls started up as they ran to him again. Harry whipped out his wand once more and pointed it at them.

"Please, just stay back! I did the Triwizard Tournament last year, and know some pretty descent spells right now; and I'm on my last thread to use them. I don't need anyone to push me," he warned, glaring at them all. Then two figures caught his eye from behind the group and on the staircase.

It was Malfoy. Malfoy and Pansy. He assumed that they had both just descended from the upper stories and were horrified to find what lay before them. Pansy looked thoroughly shaken and Malfoy looked drained, angry and horrified. Harry groaned. He backed into the shadow, hoping Malfoy wouldn't see him. He couldn't handle his mockery right now.

"Harry! Harry, heads up!" Ron shouted at the top of his lungs. Harry averted his attention to the boy mob where Hermione was coming for him at top speeds. Apparently Ron had given her one tremendous push to free her of the group and she wasn't able to catch her balance on time. She staggered towards Harry who caught her before she could hit the ground.

"You alright?" Harry asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Hermione said, breathless.

"Hermione, where's Ron?" Harry questioned, searching the area for him.

"I don't know. He grabbed my arm and tried to lead me out but the others snatched him up and attempted to pry his hand off me. So he shoved me out of the mob to save me. Oh, that was terrible." Hermione grabbed Harry's shoulders and hauled herself to her feet. Harry was still waiting for Ron to come out.

"There he is!" Harry said, pointing past her. Hermione turned around just in time to catch Ron before he fell facedown at her feet. But he was much taller then her, so she went crashing backwards instead, knocking Harry back as well. The three fell in a neat stack backward, one on top of the
other.

"Thanks," Ron said to Hermione. He looked dazed and confused.

"Back at you," Hermione forced out, talking against Ron's chest.

"Get off me!" Harry yelped from under the two. He couldn't do much more then yell into Hermione's hair. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he added. The bump on his head had now increased in both size and pain, and the throbbing had reached his stomach, giving him a nasty nauseous sensation.

Hermione scrambled to get off him, shoving a still confused Ron to his feet. Harry raised himself gingerly off the floor and clutched his middle.

"You need Madam Pomfrey, Harry?" Ron asked, slowly coming to terms with where he was.

"No," Harry answered hurriedly. "Let's just get to Dumbledore, and fast."
"Good idea," Ron said, glancing around the hall. "We got to get out of here."

And with that the trio fled from the Entrance Hall, all three thoroughly grossed out and in dreadful need of a
long, hot shower.

****

"So my mother goes on and tells me that whatever the Dark Lord needs to do is up to him. It still frightens me, though. Even though I know my family is on the power side I still worry about You-Know-Who coming in and killing my family off," Pansy stated, obviously pouring her heart out to Draco.

Draco had to cut her some slack for this, she was actually acting normal around him. He also thanked her for her endless jabber, for it occupied her so much that she never noticed his flinching of that pain coursing through his arm.

"I understand what you mean," he answered, digging his nails into his skin to resist the urge to cry out. "Sometimes I get worried about Him too."

"You?!" Pansy asked in astonishment. "What would you have to be scared about? You-Know-Who needs you Draco. I mean, what good would his acts be for if he disposed of you? For one thing, that whole incident that one night would have gone to complete wast-" Pansy stopped, and for good reason. Draco had halted a few feet behind her and was glaring at her with death etched in his every feature.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, slowly, silently and fiercely.

"Er- nothing! I didn't say anything. Just forget I ever mentioned-"

"Pansy," Draco growled, stepping forward and clutching her hand rather forcefully. She winced in feared pain. "What were you on about? What other night? Do you know something I should know?!"

"Draco, just please forget I ever said..." Pansy pleaded. But Draco was sick of pleading.

"You know what happened the night I got this, don't you!?!" he yelled, revealing the Dark Mark on his arm. Pansy stared at it in panic. Draco had never shown anyone his Mark, except for Hermione, for he did not want people going mental and frantic at the sight if it.

Draco watched as Pansy fought with the words dying to escape from her. She opened her mouth many times, but then closed it again, as if she was afraid of what would come out. She began to back away slowly, staring all the while at the Mark, mesmerized by it.

"Draco-Draco, I promised. I promised that I wouldn't-I can't..." she whispered, and her eyes shone bright with fear.

"What? What did you promise? Pansy, tell me," Draco dropped his arm and walked forward, so he was face to face with her. "Pansy," he asked in a softer tone, "I need to know what happened the night I received the Mark. You have to tell me." He looked at her with fire in his eyes, and he locked her with such an intense gaze that others would have burned into ashes by it. Pansy shook her head at him, but obeyed nonetheless.

"They told me never to tell you; that you wouldn't take to it lightly. But your father told Him yes. He said yes to his proposal, and that it would take your conversion to his side easier," Pansy answered, her voice unnervingly blank yet her face looked so far away, like she went back into her memory and was explaining what she saw.

"What proposal? Who's they? Pansy, what did the Dark Lord want of me, and what conversion? I would have gladly..." but Draco stopped. He was about to say that he would have gladly turned full-heartedly to the Dark side, but after what it was doing to him he couldn't have been sure. Pansy, however, did not notice his hesitation. She just went on with her words.

"You were faltering, that's what they told me. Do you remember that night, Draco?"

"No," Draco answered, unease hanging thick in the air. Up to this point Pansy hadn't been looking straight at him, but now she did, and the stare was cold enough to freeze Draco's fiery one.

"That night, I came to your home. Our parents were talking in your kitchen, and we were in the living room, in front of the fireplace. We had been talking about school, what it would be like when we returned. I got thirsty, and so did you. I went to the kitchen to get us drinks, and you stayed slumped in the chair. I passed our parents on the way, and someone else was with them.

"They told me to be quiet, and I didn't know the other person under his cloak; because he wore a cloak Draco, how could I have known?!" Pansy's voice was growing with excitement now, the adrenaline of the memory coursing through her, but Draco was fully understanding her words. Though they confused him, they also flipped a switch in his mind, therefore turning on a faint light on that night.

He remembered opening the door to her face, and inviting her into his home. He remembered laughing along with her like the old friends they were while both their parents looked serious yet insanely pleased at him. He remembered hearing the small creak of the door opening again while he joked with Pansy in the living room; not even giving wonder to who the newcomer was.

He remembered the dryness in his mouth and asking Pansy politely if she could grab him a drink, and how he turned away from her so quickly that he didn't see the cloaked figure come into the room. He remembered.

"They told me never to tell you, that you wouldn't be able to remember anything. They told me you were faltering, that you were drifting away, and you would make me drift too. He didn't want that Draco. They could have used me instead but they said there was something about you. You had the power, not me. You had it.

"He said the slash would work, the spell would activate and I didn't know until it was too late! How could I have known! Draco, you screamed! I heard it and I didn't know! How could I have known Draco...you screamed and they didn't do anything. But I saw...I saw what he did and I heard and they said don't tell you. I didn't tell you, and I won't!"

Then she was silent, just staring at Draco in a winded way. Draco returned her gaze, terrible realization flooding over him.

"I think you just did," he told her, dropping his arms to his side. "You just didn't say everything."

"I won't," Pansy replied in a low voice. She wriggled out of Draco's grip and stood a good way away from him. She just stared at him, not knowing what to do while the horrors of that night still called to her.

"Why won't you?" Draco asked quietly. "What was so wrong about that night, Pansy?" But Pansy was finished talking and turned around again, obviously wanting to resume their walk. She reached the banister to one of the stairs and stopped. She looked down at the ground beside her, waiting for Draco to come as well. He did, but with much reluctance.

"I didn't tell you, and I won't," she repeated. "He needs to do what has to be done." Then she stepped down the stairway with Draco following behind her, his brow furrowed in frustration.

****

Harry, Ron and Hermione ran at top speeds throughout the castle, not stopping until they hit the statue in front of Dumbledore's office. Hermione cried out the password and the spiraling staircase held within the wall was revealed.

The trio quickly joined into it and soon found themselves facing the oak door that separated them from the Headmaster. Hermione and Ron were clearly out of breath and Harry was leaning against the door frame, trying hard not to pass out.

"You sure you don't need the nurse?" Ron asked him, noticing a green tinge coloring Harry's face.

"Later," Harry managed to say, "first things first. We need to meet Dumbledore."

"I would gladly try and heal you up a bit Harry," Hermione explained as Ron pounded on the brass knocker. "But I haven't done much magic since the spell and I have no idea what side effects it could create."

"That's alright Hermione," Harry mumbled. "I'll manage."

"And you know I'd help you Harry but with my past experience with magic-" he trailed away, knowing that he needn't go on for all three knew he wasn't the best wizard alive.

Then the door was pulled gently open and the wise, old wizard that made everything feel all right again stood before him. In seeing Ron, Hermione and Harry, Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

But they flickered for just an instance when he noticed that Hermione refused to look at him. But before he called her upon it he invited them whole-heartedly into his office. They came in gratefully and scrambled in. Ron and Hermione fell into the two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, but Harry couldn't stand sitting up any longer and fell into a soft sofa that was hidden somewhere near the back of the office by a window.

"I have been waiting for quite some time for you three. I was afraid something happened to you," he said. He sat down at his desk.

"Something did happen, Professor," Ron said, sitting up taller in front of the Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded, as if he already knew, and glanced backward to where Harry was taking in calming breaths from his lying position on the sofa. He was feeling much better, now that he could find somewhere to rest his head. When Dumbledore turned back to the students before him, he again saw that Hermione was looking at the ground, deliberately avoiding looking at the Headmaster.

"What is wrong, Miss Granger? I feel great discomfort coming from you," he said, earning a worried glance from Ron and Harry. It was Ron who explained the ordeal at hand.

"Professor, Hermione can't look at you," Ron explained. Dumbledore just turned his vision upon him, like a grandfather would look to a grandson.

"I see Mr. Weasley. May I ask why?"

"Well...it's because you're a man," Ron said, with rather a bit too much bluntness and not enough explanation.

"I would hope so, but I still find myself very confused," Dumbledore answered with a slight laugh. "Please, proceed."

"Okay," Ron said, clearing his throat, and then he was off. He explained all he knew about the spell, all the parts he had experienced along with what Hermione told him. She also helped with the story, interjecting her knowledge from time to time with her head bowed low. It took a surprisingly short while to explain about what seemed an eternity, but they got every detail about the story in within twenty minutes. In the end, Dumbledore, let out a long, long sigh.

"Crystal Tiara," Dumbledore whispered, shaking his head. His smile was gone but the amusement still lingered in his voice. "She's always been doing this, did you know that Miss Granger?"

"Yeah," Hermione answered. "When she spoke to me she said she used to put the spell on others, I heard her."

"Yes, that's right," Dumbledore agreed, almost sadly. "She has done it to many others, but she has never seen the side effects it causes."

"Side effects?" Harry mumbled from behind. Dumbledore turned to him and fixed him with a blue gaze.

"Harry, I have this feeling that you are in need of healing," he said, placing an attempt at a joke and succeeding. Ron smiled along with Hermione. Harry just groaned in response. "Well then," Dumbledore said, turning to look at his phoenix, "Fawkes, please attend to Mr. Potter. Thank you."

Ron watched as the red and gold bird of fire fluttered from its perch and went to heal Harry. They waited but a second before Harry came to stand next to Dumbledore's desk holding Fawkes on his shoulder. He looked fully rested and no longer green.

"Thanks," Harry muttered to Fawkes, who let out one wondrous note of his song and returned once again to its golden perch. "But what side affects are there, Professor?" Harry asked, obviously not averted from his interests. The Headmaster looked to the ceiling, thinking.

"Have any of your fellow students been acting strangely? Of course, I mean, apart from the students Hermione has looked at?" he asked, gazing at Harry and Ron.

"Yeah," Ron answered first. "We were practically killed in the Entrance Hall by the entire student body!"

"How?" Dumbledore asked, though Ron, Harry and Hermione were certain that he already knew 'how'.

"They-well..." Ron fumbled with his words. He didn't quite know how to explain his fellow classmates actions without making it sound stupid or ridiculous.

"They, sort of threw themselves at us," Hermione said, staring hard at the bookshelf lining the wall next to her.

"I don't think I understand what you mean," the Headmaster pushed, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"Professor, everyone started acting a little-er...lonely, if you know what I mean. So they all rushed at us, the boys on Hermione and the girls on Ron and I. They got a bit, um...close." Harry didn't know how else to explain the strange events only a few minutes before, and he was only hoping Dumbledore would get the point. Fortunately, he did.

"I see," the wizened man said. He gazed hard at the ceiling. "And do you know why they acted so forceful?" he asked. The three shook their heads.

"It was bizarre," Ron said. "Hogwarts students-actually, no one has ever acted like they did. They were like a pack of rampaging hippogriffs."

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore said, nodding in agreement with him. "The reason they acted in such a way, even the females, is because of the spell the Oracle placed on Hermione."

"What are you talking about?" Harry and Ron both asked at the same time. Dumbledore furrowed his brow in thought.

"Hmm," he muttered. "What is the best way to explain this? Ah yes, I think I know how to make it understandable. As I have told you three before, the Oracle's powers are extremely advanced, very very great when in affect, especially the eldest one, Crystal. Well, the only way to say this is to tell you that the Oracles don't exactly know everything about their own powers."

"What?" Ron asked.

"Why?" Hermione wondered.

"Well," Dumbledore resumed, "it's like this. Their powers are fantastic, too great that the world can't handle them, like I have said; and that is why your fellow students 'attacked' you. When Crystal cast the spell, she confined her tremendous power to one small, and in her case, simple spell; and she focused it on only one person. But her powers aren't accustomed to being imprisoned in one spell that requires little energy to activate.

"The power she put on you, Hermione, has been fighting to expand, and it has finally succeeded. It is used to being free and affecting a number of things in its path. That is why the students have been acting strange, the power from the spell has reached out to them as well, causing their minds to cloud over and accept whatever the power tells them to do."

"Power that is so great it can't even stay in a simple spell?" Ron repeated in bewilderment, not really wanting an answer to his question. Dumbledore just nodded.

"Has it happened before?" Hermione asked, curious. "I mean, to all of Crystal's other victims."

"Oh of course," the Headmaster assured. "That is mainly why they go into hiding. They fear for their safety along with the safety of others. With the first Oracle's life energy devoted to the Unforgivable Curses, who knows what her power could make you do. No matter how she disguises it or cages it, the magic will always be of the Dark Arts; but she has never understood that." Dumbledore sighed heavily, almost as if he were disappointed in a student or the like.

"But I'm still confused about something," Ron started, sitting on the edge of his seat. "Like we had said before, we did what the Oracle wanted us to do and we told Hermione that we-...er...that we-..." Ron stammered slightly, looking from Harry to Hermione, who both returned his gaze.

"That you love her?" Dumbledore finished slowly, a tinge of amusement in his tone.

"Yeah, that," Ron confirmed. "And yet the spell didn't lift! She told us to say it, so we did, but how come nothing has changed? I thought the spell would diminish and everyone else who was affected goes back to normal; not the spell growing larger and more people get affected! Why didn't it work?"

Harry, Ron and now Hermione looked to Dumbledore for the answer. Luckily for Hermione, the professor's face was staring at his wondrous bird of fire, whose perch was on the other side of his chair. He continued to stare in that direction as he answered, but his answer was no more than a guess of his, as all who were in the room could tell.

"In my perspective, I would say that the reason the counter-spell did not work was because you both did it." He looked at the trio again and Hermione averted her vision to her feet once more, very much confused.

"What?" Harry asked.

"True, it does sound odd, but of what you have told me, Leo assumed that Miss Granger would only have one True Love, as most other people do. But to have two must have confused even the spell. That is why it affected the whole lot of Hogwarts' student body, rather than just a few people around you like it should have. I must say though, how all three of you could deeply love each other is quite a surprise, not quite a surprise, and wonderful news."

"But Professor, I can feel it, and Ron loves Hermione just as much as I do, but how can it be? How can one person have two people who love her?"

"That Harry," the Headmaster went on, "is probably because of all you have been through together. I imagine that rarely anyone in this world have gone through the adventures and hardships you three have gone through. The rise of the Dark Lord, the death of so many allies and friends, the lives of everyone around, the peril you have witnessed the others being put through, the pain you went through together, the sacrifices and so on. Never in my years have I seen such loyalty and faith put into friends like I have seen with you three youngsters.

"It usually takes years and years to develop a friendship like that, but the three of you have somehow managed decades of friendship in only five years. Somehow, that friendship grew into love on the way. A brotherly love between Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, and romantic love between you two and Hermione. It was expected, I must say. You don't know how long the bet between Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout and I has been going on. We thought you three would never figure it out!" The Headmaster's eyes twinkled brightly, and Ron took his statement as a compliment rather than an insult as he would have normally interpreted it.

"So what do we do now Headmaster? Professor McGonagall told us you needed to see us urgently because of the Oracles." Harry spoke his words almost silently, not wanting it to sound as if he were accusing Dumbledore of straying away from the subject.

"Yes, about that," he answered. His face turned suddenly stern and serious, and the twinkle in his blue eyes shined like ice. "The Dark Lord is on the move once again."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all snapped to attention at this, the blood running cold through their veins at the sound of Voldemort's title. Dumbledore went on, either not noticing their panic or not singling it out.

"I have gotten news from some of my own spies that he has been active lately and has killed a Muggle family. Might I add, it was not just some random family, it was one that he needed...wanted."

Automatically and for no apparent reason, Harry's hand moved to his scar, tracing the thin line. He couldn't help but still feel the sting of Voldemort's spell when his name was mentioned, it was a natural occurrence that he did often, not being able to shake off the painful feeling.

But at that moment even Voldemort's little sting was nothing compared to the blast Harry remembered Crystal setting upon him. The Cruciatus Curse done by her was equal in power next to the Dark Lord's, but somehow it tore through more than just his body. He shuddered without knowing he was doing so.

"That is why I have called you here. Because of the death of that family, the need for Harry to see the Oracles is crucial. It is just as I feared, the Dark Lord has taken in the legend of the Oracles and put his faith in it well. The next portal to Enol will open in two days time; that is when we leave to travel for their home. I needed to tell you three about this rush of the plan and I need your approval of it quickly."

He looked at them over his half-moon spectacles. The trio nodded without hesitation, knowing that whatever Dumbledore had to do was what he had to do.

"Do they know about your change in plans, Professor? Are they aware that we are coming earlier, much earlier, than we said we would? Do they know about the Muggle family?" Hermione interrogated. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I am not able to contact them within the time of one day. We'll just have to enter the portal and take them by surprise, I suppose. Time in Enol is of no existence, that's why the Oracles are still so young yet have been around for eons; so they wouldn't be able to get news of our coming or the Muggle family for quite some time," he replied. Dumbledore began to stand, obviously to lead them out and let them resume to lunch.

"Wait sir," Harry said. Dumbledore stopped and looked to him.

"Yes Harry, what is it?"

"I was just wondering what Muggle family did Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who murder? You said that it wasn't random, that he needed the family."

Ron waited as intent as Harry for the Headmaster's answer, and Hermione focused all her attention towards hearing his next words.

"Do you remember when I said that there was another who knew of the Oracles? That time in the hospital wing?" Dumbledore reminded them. They nodded in unison movement. "Well, that is the family the Dark Lord tortured and murdered. The father of the family went by the name of Jakob, and he was-er-close with the Oracles at one point."

"How did he know them?" Hermione asked, hungry for more information.

"I cannot say Hermione, I'm sorry. It is up to Crystal and Leo to confirm if I say anymore. The only thing I can tell you is this: Jakob was a muggle, with no magical blood in him, yet he was blood-related to the Oracles. He knew of them, but only as a memory. If asked about them, he could only tell you that he recalls knowing two young children and that they live somewhere where he could never go."

Dumbledore let the silence linger for a few minutes, waiting for his students to soak in everything. Outside the golden sun rose high over the castle and the lake shimmered with its thousands of diamond edged waters. Peace lay well over the school, but the tension in the Headmaster's office was still prominent in so many ways, broken only by the steady breathing of all.

Questions rammed against the mouths of their owners, trying with their every will to come out, to be heard. Harry, Ron and Hermione wanted to bombard the headmaster with 'I wonders' and 'what ifs', but they held them within, not wanting to use more of Dumbledore's time. It was Harry who broke the silence however.

"So we leave in one day," Harry confirmed, nodding his head. Dumbledore returned his nod.

"What will the teachers say, when we're not in classes?" Hermione wondered.

"They will be informed, personally by me, that you three are given special acceptances to be out of lessons," the wise man said. Hermione smiled at the floor and stood up, her back facing the Headmaster.

"And the spell?" Ron questioned from his seat.

"It is still in effect, I am saddened to say. But if Crystal is working on an alternate counter-spell right now I'd say do not worry yourselves over it. Just stray far from crowds and keep to yourselves. Do not mingle with anyone until this is all over."

"Thanks sir," Ron replied, attempting his lopsided grin and standing up.

"Now let us go, lunch is in but a few moments and I am quite famished. I would be happy to escort you all to the Great Hall." And with that, The Headmaster opened the oak door and the four stepped out to join the spiraling staircase on its brief carousel journey to the corridor below.

****

Draco picked absently at his plate, his head slumped over his hand in an undignified and un-Malfoy like manner. He flashed a glance at Pansy who sat next to him and she deliberately avoided his eyes. Malfoy really couldn't blame her; she didn't do anything that night when...

The doors to the Great Hall were pushed open and Draco watched, eyes like slits, as Dumbledore, Potter, Weasley and Granger walked by. The trio sat down at Gryffindor table as the Headmaster proceeded to the High Table. Draco grumbled under his breath.

Of course only Harry Potter and his idiot friends would need a special escort from the Headmaster to get into the Great Hall. Draco picked his head up off his hand.

"Look everyone, famous Harry Potter needs his grandfather wannabe to take him to lunch," he spat, making everyone at the table turn to see what he was talking about. Glaring at them also, Draco absently pulled his left sleeve down to scratch his arm. When everyone turned back around there were many gasps from the students sitting near Draco.

"Draco, what is that?" Goyle asked, pointing at his arm in shocked surprise.

"What?" Draco asked back, not understanding his carelessness. He gazed down at his arm only to let the Dark Mark meet his vision. His eyes grew wide and he hastily shoved his sleeve back down and plunged his arm under the table. He looked back up and saw that most of the Slytherins were staring at him, and he wasn't able to read their expressions.

"Draco, was that the Dark Mark?" one of Pansy's girls asked in a slow, hushed voice.

"No," Draco said abruptly, almost cutting her off. He then went back to picking at his food, crushing his potatoes into bits under his fork.

"Malfoy, don't deny it. You got the Dark Mark, haven't you?" Blaise Zabini asked excitedly, leaning across the table towards him. Malfoy shushed him up fast and looked over the other House tables, hoping no one else had heard. Gratefully, no one had.

"No Blaise, you saw nothing. Now shut up and sit back down."

"But Mr. Malfoy, we all saw it," persisted a feeble little second year.

"Yeah, Draco. You've got the Dark Mark! No one has ever gotten the Dark Mark at such a young age, my dad told me. But if there were to be one, it would have been you, most likely. What with having a family like yours and just being you and all," Crabbe said. Draco just looked down at his plate.

"Just forget it, all of you. I don't want anyone else knowing, if you can catch my drift." Draco was speaking through clenched teeth now, moving his eyes so that he could see the Great Hall with his head still bowed slightly. He was incredibly thankful that no one from the other houses had noticed the Slytherins' sudden interest in him and neither did the teachers.

He let out a long sigh, placing a hand over his forearm under the table. But against his will, his fellow students only leaned in closer and bombarded him with whispered questions about his, in their eyes, good fortune.

"When did you get one?"

"Was there a big ceremony?"

"I don't know," Draco mumbled.

"Did it hurt?"

"Why did you get it so soon?"

"I don't know," he said more forcefully.

"Did You-Know-Who put it there himself?!"

"How did you get it?"

"I don't know!" Draco bellowed, slamming his hand down on the table and rising to his feet. The Slytherins', along with everyone else in the hall, fell silent and stared at him. Draco could feel their eyes boring into his skin, making him flush a deep crimson red. He directed his gaze to the doorway, which was a good way away from him. He wasn't sure if he would make it all the way to them before he burned up from the humiliation.

"Mr. Malfoy, may I please ask what the matter is?" Dumbledore said from the front of the hall. His voice was soft and filled with concern, but Draco was only irritated by it.

"No Headmaster," he snapped, not looking at him. He let his fork drop to his plate with a loud clatter before slipping out of his seat. "I'll see you all later," he hissed to his friends, and then walked as fast as he could towards the doors. He had barely taken a step before someone grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Anger, along with everyone's eyes still focused on him, made Draco whip his head about and stare stone-faced at the person who had halted him.

"Draco, you better quiet down this crowd before someone blabs on about your Mark." It was Pansy, and she made sure to keep her voice extremely low, so that it was even hard for Draco to hear her properly. But he didn't care about anything at the moment; all he wanted to do was to get out of there. He leaned in close to Pansy so that they were almost nose to nose. His grey eyes flashed and his Mark burned gently through his robes.

"Why don't you quiet them down, Pansy. Be useful for once in your life," he replied, his voice edged with razors and cruelty lining every aspect of his words. Usually Pansy would get terribly offended by a remark such as this, but not this time. She just returned his cold stare, not saying a word. Taking her silence as his cue, Draco straightened up and strode towards the doors.

He glanced back and saw that most of the Hall had gone back to their conversations, except for three. The golden trio, Harry, Ron and Hermione, were still looking at him in a puzzled way; and that was when it happened. The Dark Mark etched in his skin sizzled with an extreme heat, causing Draco to clench his teeth in pain. At the same time he saw Harry, very suddenly, bring his hand up to his scar in agony.

He had his head bowed over the table and he was silently screaming with pain; Ron and Hermione were on him in seconds, asking what was wrong and looking around to see if anyone was noticing.

"Stop it," Draco commanded to his Mark. "Not here! The Mudblood Lover has him in his sight! He'll know you're near or at least one of your minions, which could get me into loads of trouble!" This made the flame in his arm cease immediately and Harry to sit up, gasping for breath and holding his scar tenderly. Then a shrill, sinister voice echoed in Draco's head.

"So you're a minion of mine now, boy?" it asked, a hint of amusement swimming in its mist. "And you care if we are found out or not? Hmm, there may be hope for you yet, boy. Don't fight me any longer, it won't be good for your health. You did it the very first time and I would have killed you then. Don't push me any farther, boy."

And then the voice laughed darkly before emptying away and leaving behind a cold chill in Draco's body. He glanced once to make sure Harry hadn't eyed him as the cause for his scar burning, which he didn't, before leaning against the wood and slipping into the Hall.

****

Harry looked up abruptly with everyone else in the hall. Malfoy had suddenly sprung to his feet screaming 'I don't know' and slamming his hand on the table. It looked as though only the Slytherins knew what he was on about, because anyone who wasn't a Slytherin looked as clueless as he felt.

"What's up with Malfoy?" Ron asked, leaning over to Harry and looking as puzzled as he did.

"No idea," Harry said, his brow furrowed. He watched as the attention of the school was placed on the shoulders of Draco. Harry could have laughed at this. Malfoy always put Harry in the spotlight, humiliating him in front of everyone. Now it was his turn and he didn't seem too happy about it at all; but Harry stayed silent and watched along with Hermione and Ron as Malfoy made to leave. People started losing interest in him now and were returning to their previous conversations.

"Well, he's leaving now-" Ron started.

"Or was," Hermione contradicted, pointing across the Hall to the Slytherin table. "Pansy stopped him. Wow, they both look really angry. Wonder why..."

"Who cares," Harry and Ron replied blandly, though they continued to watch Malfoy with her. Their arch-nemesis stalked towards the doors, glancing nervously about the Great Hall. He spotted them still looking at him and he quickly looked away in turn. He paused near the door, almost ready to walk out. Then it happened.

Harry's scar exploded with fire, the heat reaching down into his body and scorching him from within. He slumped in his seat, leaning his forehead atop the coolness of the table. He wanted to scream out and make it stop, but his scar would not allow it. All he knew was that Voldemort's power was near and Ron and Hermione were just as frightened as he was.

"Harry, Harry your scar!" Harry could hear Hermione try and steady the quiver in her voice as she laid a hand on his shoulder and comforted him with her words.

"Harry! What in blazes is going on here? You-Know-Who can't be around, can he? I bet it's one of his bloody Death Eaters. It's alright Harry..." Ron told him, inhaling deeply. By the calmness of Ron's voice Harry knew that no one else had noticed his scar hurting, and it was a relief. He didn't want anyone panicking.

"He's...he-her-here. Can...feel...here..." Harry tried to explain what was happening through the pain, but couldn't. Every time he opened his mouth his scar would just blaze greater than before.

"What is it?" Hermione prompted, bending down to listen. Harry tried to repeat his words but still couldn't. Then it felt as though a great gust of wind whipped by and took along with it the pain. Harry sat up quickly, panting softly and blinking in bewilderment.

"It's gone," he said, the astonishment obvious in his voice. "It just, left."

"Huh?" Ron said, eyeing him in suspicion.

"You were in a lot of pain," Hermione said, not understanding how Harry could be sitting comfortably next her when he was silently screaming seconds before.

"You lost me," Ron interjected, shaking his head.

"It just left," Harry repeated. He glanced around the hall, wondering how Voldemort's power could be anywhere close. He could feel Hermione's eyes watching him and knew that she somehow already knew what he was thinking.

"It just came, and then went," she asked slowly. He nodded.

"Like it...walked out the door..." Automatically both Harry and Hermione looked to the entrance of the Great Hall and saw that it was empty of any Malfoy.

"It just came so suddenly," Hermione whispered, her eyes narrowed. It was her typical look for when she was busy putting two and two together.

"Malfoy?" Ron said, catching onto their train of thought. "Malfoy. He has been acting strange for awhile."

"Too strange," Harry murmured.

"I looked him in the eye-" Hermione pointed out.

"-and he's perfectly normal now-" Ron continued.

"-but not normal enough for Malfoy. Don't take me wrong on this, but he hasn't been nasty enough towards us all year. Not that I'm not glad, but it's just-"

"Strange," Hermione and Ron concluded. They were all looking at the doorway now even though Draco had been gone for a fair amount of minutes. Then Ron asked the question that none of them wanted to think about.

"Do you reckon we should have told Dumbledore that he's got the Dark Mark?" he asked in a very low and serious tone. They looked at one another, searching for the right answer in one another eyes. No one spoke for ages. When the time had passed, Hermione opened her mouth, but did not answer the question.

"I know he's got the Dark Mark, but how can Harry's scar detect You-Know-Who's power from it? He was never able to do that with Snape's. How is Malfoy's any different than his? How can You-Know-Who's power be present in his Mark so strongly and not in anyone else's? Harry, how bad did your scar hurt?" Hermione turned to Harry and waited. Harry thought for awhile, trying to compare it to something else.

"Almost as bad as last year's, when He had risen and was calling his Death Eaters. Like when he touched the Ma-"

"So was You-Know-Who calling him? I mean, however he calls his servants. I still think its mental, using a mark to call on your 'friends'. I always knew he was a crazy mook," Ron suggested, crossing his arms over his chest.

"But wouldn't Dumbledore have felt it as well? I mean, he's almost as sensitive to the Dark Arts as you are to You-Know-Who, Harry," Hermione said, bringing the subject into view. Harry glanced at him at the high table, but it looked as though he was perfectly calm and had noticed nothing.

"Well," Harry said, looking back at Ron and Hermione, "there's something very unusual about Malfoy, we can't rule that out."

"Clearly," Hermione and Ron answered together. It was a bit hard for the trio not to laugh at this, but they all beamed brightly. Harry shook his head in amusement and then stood up.

"Come on, I think we better get going."

"Why?" Ron wondered.

"Because the guys are eyeing Hermione again," Harry told him, nodding his head toward the flickering glances from around the Hall. At this Hermione sat up abruptly and threw her napkin down gently.

"Okay, we're gone," she said, trying not to laugh, and she hurried out of the Hall before anyone could stop her. Harry and Ron followed suit.

"So what d'you reckon?" Ron said under his breath as they pushed the doors open. "Do we find out more about Malfoy or just tell Dumbledore?"

"I want to find out more for myself first. If we tell Dumbledore we probably won't get a chance to check him out for ourselves. No, we'll wait."

"Do we tell Hermione? I mean Harry, he really frightened her that one day when he caught her off-guard. Do you remember that time?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, you're right." They made their way up the marble staircase and to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione was already a full staircase ahead of them and looked completely calm. She waved enthusiastically to everyone she passed, (all girls, thank goodness), and would every now and then lean over the rail and urge the boys to hurry up.

"So, should we tell her?" Ron said, looking up at her as they climbed yet another staircase. Harry watched her too, thinking.

"Yeah," he finally said. Ron looked puzzled at him. "Because if we don't she'll be really angry with us. And I don't think we want someone who knows as many hexes and has a psycho spell-caster on her case like Hermione to be mad at us. Would you?" He looked at his best friend, waiting.

"Well, when you put it that way, then I guess I'm drawing a big no." Harry agreed whole-heartedly with him as they proceeded to their safe and comfortable common room.

****

Ron was standing alone. Standing alone in almost complete darkness. He could only see a couple feet in front of himself, but that was enough for him to know that he was in a tower. He was at the far end of it, where the rounded stone wall curved over. It looked oddly familiar, but he was pretty sure that he wasn't in Hogwarts.

The tower he was in was extremely cold and he brought his arms around him to hug his cloak closer to his body...but there was no cloak. Looking down at himself, Ron held on to an astonished gasp..

Instead of his Hogwarts robes, Ron was donning odd clothing indeed. He wasn't wearing anything that looked remotely like wizard robes or Muggle attire at all. He was wearing what looked like a bright, white tunic and trousers. They were made of a soft material he couldn't recognize and they were comfortable, but they weren't his and he had no idea why he was wearing them.

"Harry," Ron called automatically, looking up. "Hermione? Where are you?"

He looked around himself and got the same uneasy feeling that he had seen this place before. The stone walls were damp and decaying and it looked as though this place had been a dungeon at one point. Knowing that he couldn't just stand around forever but wishing he could, Ron started walking through the vast dungeon, his eyes darting from one area to another.

"Hermione," Ron called again, though a little lower this time. Somehow he had this feeling that someone was listening through the darkness. "Harry? Is anyone out there? Where in blazes am I?! Ginny?" Ron was desperate now for anyone to be around, but he walked on, hoping that someone would be on the other side of the dungeon waiting for him. There was.

Shackled to the wall and wearing rags that looked as though they had once been a stunning white gown, the girl that had come to him twice before hung limply from her manacles. She didn't seem to be awake, her head drooped down and her breathing was incredibly shallow.

Ron stepped back on reaction of seeing her even though she was in no state to attack him. He looked frantically around again for any sign of human life other than this half dead girl before him.

"H-Harry, Hermione! Bloody hell, Malfoy! I don't care who is out there, just someone!" But of course, no one answered him. Reluctantly, Ron looked back at the girl, the Oracle, and took the chance of speaking to her. "Um-excuse me. Crystal, right? Well, I didn't mean to intrude here, but I don't know how I got here. Do you...er...are you even awake?"

Ron chanced yet another step forward and gave the Oracle the slightest nudge. She didn't wake up or stir or anything; quite the contrary, her shallow breathing stopped and she ceased to breath at all. When Ron noticed this his eyes grew wide.

"Uh-oh...,"

Then Crystal's head shot up and she fixed Ron with a penetrating gaze. He never saw it coming, and she had given every hint that she had gone from herself. Her movement was so fast, so cunning, so...unnatural.

Her eyes glowed clear with their deep blue color and her face was set to one task. Ron backed away quickly, almost running, but something stopped him.

What felt like a stab hit the back of his head, and Ron was losing all feeling in his body. His eyes were still locked on the Oracle, and with her stare came more unease. Ron couldn't feel it, but saw as his focus traveled upward and he was looking to the ceiling. It seemed as though he had fallen, and was now lying on his back. His vision was failing and he was somehow losing himself in his body.

A something was seeping out from under his head, but somehow he didn't know what it was. The darkness was closing in on him now, and he heard people screaming his name.

From above, the faint haze of what could have been a face looked down to him. It was moving in slow motion and he was certain it was a girl he knew, like a friend. Why couldn't he remember her? Someone else was calling him, a deep voice in distress. He knew that voice, it belonged to a boy, but it was growing fainter and farther, slowing down with every call of his name. That voice was familiar too, belonging to someone very close to him.

The girl, she had brown hair, he remembered that, but couldn't he remember her? And the boy, the thought of tangled black hair and green eyes struck him, but it triggered no memory. Why couldn't he remember?

Were the friends? His memory wasn't working; none of his body was working. The substance flowing from under him was soaking into his white tunic. It was his own, but he didn't know what. It was red, he knew. Something...something...red. And then his eyes were closing to death...and yet he didn't even know it was death...

"HARRY!"

Ron sat up abruptly from his bed, the moonlight from the night outside playing over his sheets. He was flailing with his bed covers and curtains, calling out Harry's name and trying to free himself from the tangle of fabric.

"HARRY!"

"What?" Harry asked, his voice drowsy and uninterested. "Is someone trying to kill you again, Ron?"

"HARRY!"

"What?!" Harry replied, with much more irritation than before.

"Hey, what's going on here?" Seamus murmured from across the room. The lights were flicked on and all five boys in the room threw up their hands to shield their eyes. Dean stood by the door. Apparently he had activated the lights, but was still stunned by the sudden brightness.

"It's three o'clock in the morning. We have lessons tomorrow. Who's screaming?"

Neville pulled back the curtains on his own bed and squinted at everyone. Ron had finally freed himself of his bed tangles and had run to Harry panting hard. He grabbed the collar of his best friend's pajamas and yanked him out of bed.

"Hey!"

"Harry, shut up. Something horrible happened."

"What?" Harry asked, prying Ron's hands off and straightening his shirt. "What's the matter?"

"Well..." Ron began, not knowing how to start. He looked away from Harry and to his other roommates.

"So, do you two have everything under control then?" Dean asked, completely not caring if they did as long as he could get back to sleep.

"Yeah, we're okay," Harry answered. "We'll just take this to the common room." He grabbed Ron's shoulders and led him out of the room. When the door to their dormitory shut behind them Ron turned to Harry.

"Harry, just to give you the heads up, this is about that Oracle girl." Ron twisted his hands together to stop them from shaking.

"WHAT?!" But this time when Harry said it, his voice was in full out surprise and his face radiated fright along with astonishment.

"Come on, let's just go to the common room," Ron muttered, and passed the girl's dormitory doors and down the steps.

"Wait," Harry said, making Ron stop and turn to him. "Maybe we should get Hermione. Would you think she would want to hear this?" He waited for a reply. Ron thought about it, and then remembered the dream Hermione had had of him in his room. He nodded.

"Yeah, we should. Go on Harry, you get her. I'll just be waiting downstairs by the fire."

"Okay." And he watched as Ron descended slowly down the stone steps. Harry waited a few seconds, then lightly knocked on the girl's door. At first there was no reply, so Harry knocked again, a little louder this time. Still no reply. Taking in a deep breath, Harry pushed open the door softly and peered into the room. It was bathed in darkness, but Harry could see quite well in it.

He crept in silently and clicked the door closed behind, not wanting the outside light to penetrate the room. Looking around, Harry noticed, with a touch of humorous jealousy, that their dormitory was much nicer than the boys'.

Because there were only three fifth year girls in Gryffindor, they had a lot of extra space. Three beds lay around the circular room, each one spread out and giving each girl their own private space. He located Hermione's bed as the middle one and quietly walked to it.

It was easy to pick it out because instead of hair products and make-up on the vanity like the other two, this one was stacked neatly with books and parchment. The trunk was open and the contents were organized properly, and the sleeper within the bed had made sure her covers had not a crease or wrinkle in them.

Harry made his way to the side of Hermione's bed and peered down at her, trying to suppress and laugh. Only she would think it improper and disorganized if one was to muss their sheets in their sleep. Averting back to the situation at hand, Harry bent down and shook her gently.

"Hermione, Hermione wake up. Ron and I have got to talk to you." He waited for a second, but Hermione had only turned her head so that it faced the other side. Harry attempted to shake her again. She didn't budge. Harry sighed. "Alright Hermione, you leave me no choice."

Harry stood up and looked down at her. He pulled back the covers of her bed and brought her legs so that they hung over the side of her bed. He reached over, brought her to sitting position by pulling her up by her shoulders and staring at her face. Knowing somewhere deep in her sleep that something was going on, Hermione's eyes opened and she looked into the face of Harry.

"Hello," he said, smiling at her.

"Oh my God!" Hermione yelped, fully awakening now and jumping to the other side of her bed. "Harry! Harry, what are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be here!" she scolded, walking around the bed and right up to his face.

"Hermione I-"

"This is so embarrassing," Hermione interrupted, wrapping her arms around herself. Harry cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Hermione, if you hadn't noticed, you're practically wearing the same thing as me," he pointed out. It was true too. Hermione had been accustomed to wear sleeping gowns like Parvati and Lavender in the first two years at Hogwarts, but found that they were very uncomfortable.

To the extreme dislike of the two girls, and to Hermione's great pleasure of just going against their word, she had gone to sleep from then on in her regular home pajamas. But in difference to Harry's, hers were light blue and satin.

"Though I must admit, yours do look more comfortable." He grinned at her.

"Shut up," Hermione said. Then a noise broke into their conversation and both looked at the bed to the right of Hermione's.

"Lavender?" someone called groggily. "Is that you?"

"Come on," Hermione urged, grabbing her robe and Harry's hand and sprinting out of the room. Before Parvati or Lavender could see anything they were in the hall outside and had closed the door behind them. "What were you doing in there?" Hermione asked in silent outrage once again. She pulled her robe around her shoulders to keep her warm from the cold of the night.

"Sorry about that Hermione, but it's about Ron," Harry explained.

"Sorry? Harry, what would Lavender and Parvati have thought if they saw you by my bed in the middle of the night? You know how those two are," Hermione reminded him. Harry scrunched up his face in distaste.

"Well it's not my fault that they think of things like that. Their minds are corrupted," he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Whatever you say, Harry. Okay then, if Ron is in distress then I think we better go talk to him," she said, starting off down the stairs.

"Right," Harry replied, following behind her.

"Ron?" Harry called, turning the curve of the stone stairway and looking into the common room. He was right behind Hermione, gazing over her shoulder.

"Where is he?" Hermione whispered, looking all around the room. From where they were standing they couldn't see any sign of Ron. He was no where near the fireplace or the tables for working. The seat window was empty of him and the doorway was closed and abandoned.

"He said he would be downstairs by the fire. But it doesn't seem like it. Wonder where-" Harry started, but was greatly interrupted.

"Harry, Hermione, finally!" It was Ron. He had come whipping out from the corner right next to the stairway, so naturally they wouldn't have seen him right away. He looked distressed, with his tousled hair and his hands wringing themselves over and over. Harry had jumped a little at his outburst, but caught himself in time.

"Hey Ron," he whispered, watching his nervous movements. "You ok-"

"No." Ron said, cutting him off. Then he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Hermione placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and stood on tip-toe behind him to that she could see Ron over him.

"You look like death," she said, taking in the bags under his eyes and the mess he was.

"You have no idea," he answered, turning away from them and walking towards the fire. Hermione and Harry glanced at each other, worry in their eyes, before Hermione walked around Harry and lead the way to the fireplace. She fell onto the couch and Harry fell down beside her; but Ron stayed standing.

Actually, he started pacing back and forth in front of them. He was acting the same way Harry did back in first year when they had returned from the Forbidden Forest.

"Ron, would you calm down for a moment and tell us what happened?" Harry said, starting to slump over where he sat. It was three in the morning and they did have lessons tomorrow; and Hermione couldn't help but feel tired like he was.

"What did happen?" Hermione asked Harry. Not having the strength, Harry pointed lazily to Ron.

"Ask him," he said. Hermione looked to Ron and asked her question without saying a word. Watching her as he paced, Ron explained his dream with the bringing up of hers.

"'Mione, do you remember the dream you had a long time ago, way back in the Burrow? You were in my room, and you dreamt about the Oracle girl. Remember?" He waited, pacing a little bit faster as she nodded her head in response, her eyes narrowing.

"What about that?"

"Well," Ron said, looking to the ground now. "I just woke up our whole dorm room because I had a dream very...very similar to yours."

"Go on," Hermione said, very interested now. She sat up to attention as Harry began slipping off into sleep, literally. He was slumping lower and lower next to her, his eyes going out of focus. "I think you should be here with us too, Harry," Hermione suggested knowingly, and pulled Harry up by his collar.

"Ah! Why does everyone keep doing that?" he complained.

"Because we need you here!"

"Hermione, I'm tired. I wanna go to sleep!" Harry whined, sounding as though he were five years old. But Hermione fixed him with her agitated stare and he groaned out loud. "Fine." He sat up straight and looked at Ron. Despite the events that had been haunting Ron, the boy was fighting the urge to laugh.

"Potter, you're pathetic," he said, grinning broadly.

"Oh, was that a joke Weasley? Sorry, forgot to laugh!" Harry shot back, smiling as he threw a pillow at him.

"Harry, stop it," Hermione commanded, making Harry set down a second pillow which he was aiming to throw. Ron laughed at him. "You too Ron!" she said, picking up Harry's pillow and tossing it at him instead.

"Hey!"

"Okay, now let's just get this over with so we can all go back to sleep! Ron, what happened and what does it have to with my dream from way back when?" Hermione demanded, bringing in with her words her natural work atmosphere. Ron furrowed his brow, trying to capture every detail about his dream.

"All right," he said, and explained the whole dream. As he spoke, Hermione's eyes were wide with amazement and Harry's were small slits of interest. No other voice was heard for a long time except for Ron's, echoing around the empty common room.

The fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, casting everything in its wake in shadow. It brought a horrible effect to the story Ron was telling, especially the strangeness of how it coexisted with Hermione's.

"Yeah," she said slowly, replying to his vision that the hint of a face had loomed over him while he was dying. "In my dream Harry and I were there. Harry couldn't move but was calling your name, that was probably the voice you were hearing; and then I went to your side. That was probably me you were seeing. You didn't recognize either of us?"

"No," Ron answered. "I told you, for some reason my head wasn't working right. Maybe it was because it was cracked open, but don't look at me! You're the smart one, you figure it out."

Hermione did not feel that she had to justify his sarcasm. She just shook her head at the ceiling.

"But why would Crystal kill you?" Harry asked, but knew right away that this was a stupid question.

"Because its her hobby. Wake up Harry! The girl is mental! I mean, look what she has done to us so far. She spooked you out the first time by appearing as a loon in blue light. Then she almost blinded me and showed me her own death; who does that, I ask you?

"Next, Hermione is her target and practically shocks her to death by splitting her open with light, for goodness sake, and then letting her feel the emotions of everyone alive!"

Ron was breathing hard now, gaining his own crazy look in his eyes. Hermione and Harry were now less afraid of Crystal and more afraid of Ron at the moment, so neither interrupted him. He was fine with it though, he was getting into the hype of recapping the tragedies.

"No wait, it gets better, remember? Remember when she almost sliced me in half and said if my sister-MY SISTER-saw me, she would die! But let's not forget the mysterious voice you heard Harry. Do you recall that time? When she placed an Unforgivable Curse on you and let the power multiply itself by a hundred? But that time me and Hermione would die if we heard you!

"But really Harry, at least she was sorry for yours. I mean, she did put you in a lot of pain. HOLD ON! BACK UP! Your DREAM Hermione! Where I...what was it? Oh yeah...I died! I died and Harry couldn't help me and we couldn't see you. That was a time in dreamland, I bet. AND THEN WITH THE LOVE SPELL!!!"

Ron's bellow made Harry and Hermione jump in reaction. They looked around them frantically, hoping no other Gryffindors had heard which would be quite a miracle. But Ron was oblivious to the noise he was creating, for he just kept on going.

"That Love Spell will be the death of us, you just wait! The guys will either kill Hermione in attempts to have her or snog her to death! And then those stupid girls who don't know the difference between love and war...PARDON THE PUN I say!"

"Er- Ron, that wasn't a pun-" Hermione started, but Harry clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Don't," was all Harry said. He knew that if you ever spoke out against an over-heated Ron you were in for a beating, no matter who you were; and this was the craziest he had ever seen his best friend.

"Now she feels the need to show me my own death, because that would just help finish off the list, wouldn't it?! Show me hers, then mine, next will be 'Mione's and then Harry's! Bloody hell, let's go on to my sister's and all of Hogwarts! But really, I bet she's only being modest about her powers. Truly Harry, after all she has done, I really can't say why in blazes would she ever want to do something so petty as reveal my death to me and make me thick enough to not even know I'm dying!"

Silence followed.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other as Harry lowered his hand from Hermione's mouth. No words could be said between them that could explain how...passionate Ron had been about his speech. Ron simply watched them, his chest rising and falling rapidly due to his exertions about Crystal.

"Have you got it all out of your system then?" Harry asked, his green eyes amused yet still a tad bit scared. Ron just nodded, having no more breath to speak. Then Hermione stood up, fixed her robe, and looked at the both of them.

"Okay, obviously Ron is a little spooked right now and personally, I don't blame him. But we have classes tomorrow and neither of us has had a lot of sleep for the past few days. It's already..." Hermione turned her head to look at the grandfather clock sitting at the back of the common room, "...a quarter to four. We need our rest! Can't we just go back to our rooms and do this in the morning? The real morning, I mean."

"She's right," Harry said, standing up as well. "We'll talk before lessons start and we'll even try to manage another meeting with Dumbledore if we can. Just try not to think about it Ron."

Taking in his stunned silence as their cue, Harry and Hermione made to return to their beds. But Ron had no intention of agreeing with them and stood in front of Harry to stop them.

"No! No, we can't go to sleep yet. Not yet," Ron said, his voice cracking slightly.

"Er-yes, we can Ron. Now come on, let's go..."

"Harry, no! Please, can't we just stay here a little while longer?" To Harry's utter bewilderment, Ron was looking scared. I mean sure, Harry had seen him frightened on more than one occasion, but like this...never. It was as though sending him to bed was like sending him to the hands of Voldemort himself.

"Ron, are you scared to go back to sleep?" Hermione asked.

Ron looked at her, and with no emotion whatsoever replied, "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because...because if I go back to sleep she might still be there. I don't know about you Hermione, but that dream was one of the worst ones I have ever had. I can't go to bed yet."

"So what are you suggesting? Would you like to stay awake forever, or have Harry and me stay with you down here all night?"

"Perfect!" Ron said, pushing them back towards the couch. "Why don't you two just stay here with me? Keep me company and if I drift off to sleep and she's there, you two will be here for me."

"Ron, I was there with you in the room," Harry pointed out. "I'm just a few feet away. So come on! Why don't we just-"

"You were too far," Ron muttered, sounding like a stubborn baby. "It took me awhile to reach you." He looked crestfallen at his two best friends, which made Harry in his part feel very guilty. Ron had always been there for him, so now he had to do the same.

"Alright. I'll stay," he replied, falling back onto the sofa. Ron looked relieved that he didn't have to be alone and smiled.

"Well, if you're staying Harry then I see no need for me to stay as well," Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful while inwardly planning to sprint out of there. But after taking one step Harry snatched her hand up and stopped her. "Harry, what?!"

"If I'm staying down here all night 'Mione, then so are you," he told her. Hermione gave him a look that said 'You-idiot'.

"But I-"

"You are not leaving me here with Ron. The guy is crazy Hermione. He may be my best friend, but in the night he might see me as that Oracle girl and then You-Know-Who doesn't have to worry about me anymore because he would have killed me," Harry said through clenched teeth. "And you don't want to be responsible for my death, would you?" He waited. Hermione let out a long, long sigh and just shook her head. Harry beamed at her.

"Good. Now sit. If I know Ron, he won't be going to sleep for some time now."

"Great," she said sarcastically, and fell into place next to Harry.

****

It was morning at Hogwarts castle and the sun had just risen into the sky. Students had already woken up in every House and were all getting ready for a long day of classes. Among them was a small, red-headed girl by the name of Ginny Weasley. She was the last one in her dormitory to wake up and had now just finished getting dressed.

"Another day of work," she muttered to herself as she grabbed her book bag and left the room. "Looks like I'll need Hermione for homework help again."

Swinging her book bag over her shoulder, Ginny left her dorm room. As she climbed the stairs to the common room, (fourth year girls had their dormitory downstairs), she could here muffled giggles and smirks coming from above. Curious to find their reason, she hurried upward and walked into the circular room.

Lavender, Parvati and Colin were already there. They were standing near the fireplace and looking at the couch in delight.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, a smile already creeping onto her face. The three looked up at her and she could tell something on the sofa must be amusing.

"Ginny, you won't believe us if we told you. You have to witness it for yourself," Lavender explained as the other two burst into laughter.

"Okay," Ginny said in puzzlement, as she walked to where they were and followed their gaze. What she saw made her fall on the ground in mirth. It wasn't really that funny, but to know what her brother would say when he woke up would be worth a fortune!

There, fast asleep on the Gryffindor couch, was the famous trio themselves. They had always said nothing was going on between them, but by the way they were sleeping, even Ginny had to say it didn't look like it! Harry was on the far end, his head laid back against the backrest and his legs crossed over one another. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a dozing Hermione.

Her head rested on his shoulder and she was hugging him for warmth; and across both their laps, his arms and legs sprawled about everywhere, was Ron. His head was on Harry's lap, his torso on Hermione's and his legs taking up the rest of the couch.

It looked as though they hadn't heard anyone come by, or the muffled laughter right in front of them. They just continued to sleep, their chests rising and falling in unison.

"Oh my gosh Colin, take a picture," Ginny said, banging his shoulder to hurry him up. Smiling broadly, Colin raised his camera and took a snapshot of the trio. All three girls giggled madly.

"That's priceless," Parvati said, shaking her head and grinning.

"Can't wait to develop this one," Colin said to Ginny,

"And neither can we," she replied. "Okay you lot, get moving. All of you to breakfast now." The three looked outraged.

"Aw, do we have to?" Lavender pleaded. "Can't we wait till they wake up?"

"No," Ginny said, shooing them out the portrait hole. "If my brother sees you three standing there when he wakes up then you're in for the beating of your life! And don't mutter a word of this to anyone, because not only will you have Ron on your back you'll have Hermione and Harry as well!" she warned. Nodding enthusiastically, for they knew their temper, Lavender, Parvati and Colin turned to leave. "Just don't forget to make me a copy of that picture!" Ginny called to Colin, and he smiled wickedly at her before running down the corridor.

Laughing joyously, Ginny turned back around to the trio. She stared at them, debating on whether she should wake them up or just leave them there.

"If only Fred and George were here," she whispered to herself, suppressing a triumphant cry. "Oh the jokes they could pull on you, Ron." As if in response to her, Ron, who had been on his back the whole time, now turned onto his side. It just so happened that the side he turned on was the one facing Harry and Hermione. As he swung his arm around, he smacked Harry hard in the face.

Ginny burst into laughter and hung off the armchair in front of her as Harry stirred awake.

"Wh-what?" Harry grunted, shaking Ron's hand away and sitting up. During the night his glasses had slipped off his face and he couldn't see much around him, including a hysterical Weasley to his right. What he did see was that Hermione was sleeping on his shoulder and Ron was stretched out on their laps. "Aye! Ron, get off," Harry said, pushing him off with his free hand.

"Huh? Ahh!" Ron yelped, as he hit the stone floor with a thud. Harry searched the area around him for his glasses, not noticing that he was still holding Hermione and Hermione holding him. Hermione in turn still lay fast asleep. Ginny resorted to laughter so strong it became silent. She began to fight for air secretly behind the chair.

"I can't find my glasses," Harry groaned, starting to drift back to sleep. His head began falling backward again. But Ron's cry woke him up abruptly.

"Oi! Harry, what did you do that for?" Harry watched as Ron poked his head back up from the floor. At first his features were angry, but then it cracked into a grin as he saw his two best friends. "Never mind."

Harry gave him a suspicious look before looking down at Hermione and seeing their arms wrapped around each other.

"Oh," Harry said, not really caring. "Hermione? Hermione, wake up. 'Mione!" But the girl did no more than squeeze Harry tighter. He coughed and tried to let her loosen up. "Hermione, let go..."

"Looks like you're stuck mate," Ron said through a big yawn. He began to get up, not helping Harry in the slightest.

"He better not be," someone gasped from behind the chair. "Because we've got lessons in ten minutes."

"Huh?" Ron asked, turning to where the voice was coming from. Just then Ginny popped up from her place on the floor, a wide smile filling her face.

"I said that you three have got lessons to get to. It's Monday, remember?" she informed them. She looked from her brother on the floor to Harry and Hermione on the couch. She let out yet another laugh. "Having fun over there Harry?" she said, shaking her head at him.

"Not...really..." he managed to spit out. "Can someone pry her off me?" He looked pleadingly at Ginny, but she threw up her hands and shook her head.

"No way. If I wake her up and tell her she's got nine minutes till classes begin then I'm going to be trampled over. Not a chance Harry, this one is on you." And with that she picked up her book bag and left the room. "See you at lunch!" she called joyfully over her shoulder, and then closed the portrait gently.

"Well, looks like she's over your little encounter a few ways back," Ron said knowingly. But Harry wasn't listening, he was trying, in vain, to free himself of Hermione. Out of breath and running out of time, Harry decided to go for the heavy artillery.

"Hermione, we've got classes in seven minutes!" he bellowed down at her.

Hermione's eyes snapped open at his words and she let go of him immediately. She sprang to her feet, barely missing Ron, and yelled, "And you're telling me this now?!" before jetting up the stairs and into her dorm.

"She's got the right idea," Ron said, getting up and helping Harry up as well. "We better get ready, and fast! I don't know about you, but I'm in terrible need of a shower."

"Yeah, me as well," Harry agreed, and the two ran as fast as they could up the stairs and into their dormitory.