The Girl in the Tower

Sara smiled at Harry's bird. "Hello Hedwig! What have you got for me?"

Hedwig dropped a single sheet of paper, circled once, and came to rest on Sara's shoulder. Sara petted a wing before reading the note.

Sara,

It's a long story, but Ron and the rest of my roomies are in the hospital wing. It's a mis-brewed sleeping potion, but they will be all right. Snape had to go get something for the antidote and I'm teaching his class today. (Ugh!!!)

I didn't want you to worry when I'm missing from History of Magic. I have to find lesson plans now, so I'll see you at lunch I guess.

Harry

"Harry? Is teaching Potions? I wonder how Severus feels about that?" Sara's smile broke into an amused laugh, remembering them rolling around on her roof last night, slapping each other. Perhaps they would be able to tolerate the other's presence for a while. If not, she thought, she'd soon be pulling her hair out.

"Let's go wish Harry good luck, Hedwig." She tucked something into the pocket of a deep purple robe. "You can ride along on my shoulder."

* * *

Lavender smiled, considering him in his fine clothes. "Harry! You look... good. Even with all those cuts and bruises. In fact, they make you look even better."

"Thanks." Harry gave her a weak smile and thought; clown seductresses. He'd never really liked the two girls who had just wandered into the empty classroom. "What brings you here?"

"Hermione told us. We had to see it for ourselves! Professor Harry Potter. I always thought you were intelligent, Harry." Lavender drew closer.

Harry saw them advance and fought the feeling to back away. "I'll have to thank Hermione when I see her." He was trying to keep his attention on the lesson plans open on the desk, though his eyes were unwillingly drawn to the third button of Lavender's blouse. He found the distraction irritating and dragged his gaze away.
"You'll want to fix your clothes before you lose points for Gryffindor."

Parvati smirked. "We'll just pretend we didn't hear that. Tell me Harry, what have you done? You look so... attractive. I'd never noticed before. And your eyes. They're so..."

"Green," Lavender finished, drawing closer to Harry until she'd squeezed herself between him and the desk, against which she reclined.

Harry thought Lavender and Parvati were repellant and hoped they were planning to leave soon. However, it was quite plain that they were just warming up. "You're sitting on Snape's lesson plans!"

Lavender smiled and Harry noticed Parvati Patil was standing next to him, so close he could hear her breathing, her hand on his arm. He was revolted, but the hopelessly male part of him wanted to know what they'd do next. He was unable to move, wedged between two rather pretty girls, his mind racing, and trying to find an excuse to get away from the rouge-laden vixens.

A familiar voice came from the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt."

Three heads turned and there was Sara, Hedwig perched on her shoulder. Her long blonde hair fell into loose curls at her waist, the black streak only an inch wide. Her violet eyes deepened beside her purple satin robe and Harry breathed relief at the sight of her.

"Sara!" He pushed past Parvati. Hedwig flew off to find a perch, and Harry gave Sara a tight hug. He whispered in her ear. "Save me."

She kissed him as Lavender and Parvati sent a murderous glare her way. "Harry, who are your friends?"

"Lavender and Parvati. They share a room with Hermione."

He turned to his fellow Gryffindors, who he thought looked like absolute trash next to Sara, and introduced her as his girlfriend. Their reception was cold, but polite.

"Sara, I'm so sorry about last night. I've been meaning to speak to you about it, but then everything happened this morning and I haven't had time. I'll fix your flowerpots."

She gave him her sweetest smile and brushed her thumb along the scratch on his forehead. "Don't worry about it. All's well, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Lavender whispered to her friend. "Who does she think she is? She just got here yesterday! We've known him for years!"

Parvati scowled. "I'll bet she's a fake blonde."

"I brought you something." Sara searched for an obscure pocket. "Here it is." She placed the object in his hand.

"What is it?" he asked, examining a glass ball full of swirling purple mist. "What does it do?"

"It's a Confidall. It holds a bit of my confidence. Keep it in your pocket. If you get nervous, touch it and you'll feel better."

"I feel better already." He smiled into her eyes, slipping her confidence into his pocket.

"That's because you're touching the Confidall."

"Maybe, maybe not." He smiled and she blushed a little. "Good luck today, Sara. Make Trelawney open a window. Oh, girls, I forgot you were there. Um, would you excuse us?"

"Yeah, see you later Harry," Lavender said, a bit of venom in her voice.

"Nice meeting you." Parvati smirked at Sara, in much the same tone.

Sara grinned, trying hard not to giggle until they were out of sight. "I think they were about to attack you."

"Thanks for the rescue. You have impeccable timing. Last year, Hermione said they were flirting with Nearly Headless Nick!"

"A ghost? Oh my. Perhaps I should have given the Confidall to them. It sounds like they need it more than you do."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I'm scared to death."

"You? Fearless Captain Potter? You'll see, Harry. You'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"What's wrong with Ron?"

Harry related the story, saying he had no idea what the intruder was looking for and downplaying the seriousness of the Drought of the Living Dead, leaving out the nightmares, and ending with Hermione being excused from classes to do research for Dumbledore.

"I have a few minutes before History of Magic, so I'll come see how you're doing."

"I'll see you then. You're going to be late for your first class."

Sara glanced at her watch and horror invaded her expression. "I'd better run!" She gave him a fierce hug, pecked his cheek, and ran from the room.

* * *

"He never went back to his dorm! I sat in the Gryffindor common room half the night! I had to get some sleep before classes today. Anyway, by one-thirty he still hadn't come back, so I went up to his room. Weasley and the others were there, but there were pillows stuffed under Potter's sheets. I went to bed."

"The common room?" Morgio asked, surprised. "However did you manage that? How on Earth did you get in? Surely the invisibility cloak wasn't enough to let you pass the guard undetected."

"Easy. I followed some first years through the portrait hole, and hid where I had a good vantage point. I could see everyone who went in and out. I got quite an earful, too. You wouldn't believe what those people do over the summer."

Morgio paused, his skeletal hand stroking his chin. "He must have been visiting the girl last night."

At the mention of Harry's girlfriend, Draco pictured her as she'd been last night, breathtaking as she smiled from the head table, attired in clothing that appealed to his love of fine things. He recalled watching after dinner as she showered her affection on Harry Potter, and the happiness on her face as she did so was somewhat crushing. However, he now knew her name. Sara Lemke. Draco hadn't stopped thinking of her since their ill-fated meeting at Slytherin Spirits and, as her name echoed through his mind, a new image floated into view. Something he had forgotten. Song, lovely and soft, drifting to his ears. This brought to mind another lost memory. Sara, standing in the moonlight with a gentle breeze stirring her long, silvery hair. A white silk nightgown floated upon her skin and a midnight purple cape draped her delicate shoulders, billowing around her feet.

And what is your name? You still haven't told me.

It's Sara. Now goodnight, Mr. Malfoy.

Ugh! She hated him!

A memory charm, he thought, they made me forget about her. It explained why, when he saw her in the pub, he'd been so compelled by her. Why she'd seemed so familiar. Yet she'd lied to him. They had met before. Why had she come back, if she hated him enough to have his memory erased?

"Is uh...everything alright?"

"Huh? Oh, um, yes. I've behaved dreadfully. I think I have an apology to make." Draco stood and straightened his robe. "I'll get you your blood."

"Good. Time is running short, Draco. Very short indeed. Speaking of time, we'd better get to our classes. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves just now."

* * *

Harry started to shake as he panned the many pairs of eyes, all of which were trained on him, waiting for him to do something. He took a deep breath, squeezed the Confidall, and smiled at the first years.

"I'm Harry," he said and waited through the usual rash of awestruck whispers, once again feeling on display. "Professor Snape is on urgent business today, so you're all stuck with me."

Hushed laughter brought smiles to the faces of the pint-sized Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and Harry relaxed.

"I'm a seventh year student and I've never taught a class before, so don't be afraid to ask questions."

A hand went up.

"Yes?"

A mousy little freckle-faced boy stood. "Can we see your scar, Professor Potter?"

Harry laughed and pushed his hair back. Curious, wide-eyed children leaned in for a better look. "There. And don't call me professor."

Another hand went up. A girl who looked quite a bit like Cho Chang smiled and rose to her feet. "Mr. Potter."

"It's Harry. I'm a fellow student, remember."

"Harry, are you planning to kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"You mean Voldemort?"

The class responded with a collective gasp.

Harry considered this for a moment. "I don't know what will happen."

Harry took out the lesson plans and Snape's attendance book and took a quick roll call. With everyone accounted for, he dove into teaching his first class.

"Professor Snape will tell you that potion-making is an exact art. He is correct, for even the smallest mistake will alter your brew." Harry smiled at the memory this conjured up. "I once had a friend mistake a cat hair for human hair while attempting to mix a Polyjuice Potion. She did a stretch in the infirmary afterwards. It was really quite funny, but at the time we didn't know if it could be reversed. You have to be careful."

A hand flew into the air, the freckled Hufflepuff again. "What's a Polyjuice Potion?"

"If I place one of your hairs, a fingernail or whatever into a Polyjuice Potion, I will turn into you for one hour. Really quite useful in certain circumstances, but against the rules, unfortunately. Besides, such potions are advanced magic and dangerous at that."

A Ravenclaw spoke without raising her hand. "Can we make a love potion?"

"If you care for a stretch in Azkaban. Very few love potions actually exist, and they are used to manipulate the actions and free will of others. While they would seem like harmless fun to the untrained witch or wizard, they are considered Dark Magic, used only by those who will stop at nothing to get what they want, no matter how unwilling the target. In the eyes of the ministry, you might as well cast the Imperious Curse, because the idea behind both is the same. That's why love potions are illegal. So, the answer is no. We cannot make a love potion. However, you can open your notebooks."

* * *

When the second two-hour class rolled around, Harry was nervous all over again. These were second years. He would actually have to make potions with them, which meant supervising and asking the students to try the mixtures themselves. He prayed no one would end up in the hospital wing and wished he still had the Half-Blood Prince to guide him. Snape would ring his neck if there were any mishaps.

Sara breezed into the room just as they were setting up their cauldrons and Harry brightened at the sight of her.

"Ah, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs!" she said aloud, gathering everyone's attention. "What are you making today?"

"Cough syrup."

Sara's nose wrinkled. "Cough syrup? How boring." Every face in the room smiled in agreement.

"It's on the lesson plan."

"How about this," she winked at the class. "We run right through cough syrup and go to, let's see, Pepper-up?"

"Can't. Fourth year."

"How about Dragon's Breath? That's lots of fun."

"Second years walking around breathing fire? Dumbledore would kill me."

"I could teach the girls how to make hair-curling potion. That's pretty safe." A chime of female voices seemed to think this was a wonderful idea.

"What about the boys?"

"I don't know. What do boys like?"

"Girls."

Sara laughed. "You could make a muscle-growing serum."

"Does it look like I know that one?"

"Oh, uh, sorry."

Harry cracked a smile. "Boys like to gross people out."

"How about hair-alive? It's mostly the same stuff."

"Perfect."

Sara led the girls in brewing their hair-curling potion with a natural talent for leadership. She was at ease, the children seemed to adore her, and Harry envied her strong confidence. He was glad to have a bit of it himself as he instructed the boys and often handled the Confidall in his pocket, his nerves subsiding as comfort washed over him.

By the end of two hours, Sara had missed History of Magic in its entirety, every girl had pretty ringlets, and the boys, well, each end every strand of their hair stood on end and writhed like tiny snakes. Harry couldn't wait to see the reactions they got at lunch. Either the hair-alive would get a good laugh from the teachers - or he would be in trouble. Harry wished they'd stuck to the lesson plans.

Sara smiled as the students wandered out. "Goodbye. It was so nice meeting you all. Now make sure you tell everyone that Harry was a wonderful teacher."

The children filed out in small groups, each thanking Harry and Sara for the best Potions class they'd ever had and many asked if Snape was coming back. Their faces soured when they learned that he would be.

After they'd gone, Sara turned to smile at Harry. "You see Professor Potter? You've made it to lunch and you're still just fine. Excellent class, Harry. How do you feel?"

Harry grinned. "I'm starving. Now give me your books, witch. I'll walk you to lunch."

* * *

Hermione piled sandwiches into a napkin. "Harry I need to speak to you. It'll only take a minute." She poured herself some juice. "Hi Sara! How's Divination? Warm enough for you?"

"That woman must have ice water in her veins! I swear, I'm half cooked!"

Hermione laughed, "Tell her you see several students fainting from heat exhaustion. She might believe you. After all, Harry and Ron used to make up ridiculous predictions for their homework and she was thrilled with it. If she'll believe those two, she'll likely believe anything, especially a real Diviner."

"I'll keep that in mind. See you at dinner?"

"I hope so." She grabbed up the glass and the napkin. "Later Sara."

"Bye.

Harry walked Hermione to the corridor that led to the library, hoping they were out of earshot.

"What is it? What did you find?"

"It's a protective device."

"The crystal ball?"

"It's not just a crystal ball, Harry."

"What does it do? How does it work?"

"It will only respond to an Elemental, of course, but it will temporarily disarm anyone who's caught in the light it casts and no curses can be thrown at her while she's in the light."

"It takes the persons wand? She could just use Expelliarmus."

"No, silly. It mutes their magic, renders the person powerless and open to attack. Dark wizards have always gone after the Elemental, as far back as history can tell. The orb was created with power-hungry Dark lords in mind, so there is also an anti-theft spell on it. Once Sara touches it, it will recognize her as an Elemental and no one but she will be able to move it after that. The only problem is, even those of us who are on her side will be rendered powerless as well."

"There's no way for her to tell it to leave us alone?"

"There is."

"Well? How is it done?"

"I don't know. That page has been ripped out."

"Ripped out? I don't suppose someone suddenly needed to blow their nose."

"I wonder what was on that page, Harry. It must be something important."

"Must be. At least we know how to use it, though. Voldemort can't get near her now."

"There's one problem with that theory."

"I'm sure you're about to point out my flaw?"

"Of course I am, that's my job in our little circle of friends, isn't it? To keep you thinking? If she uses it, he'll know without a doubt what she is and he'll come at her like never before. Even the orb can't keep her from being outnumbered and physically overpowered. If a league of Death Eaters were able to bind her hands, all she could do is make it rain and cause an earthquake. We have to be careful."

"No lightning?"

"Not without her hands."

"Oh." Harry studied his feet, dismayed. "Well, what does Dumbledore say?"

"I'm going to report to him soon. There were a few more details I wanted to look up before I give him my findings."

"Good job, Hermione. Really. We knew nothing about it this morning."

"Thanks, Harry. I'll see you later."

* * *

Since Sara had another Divination class after lunch, she left early to air the place out before Trelawney arrived and Harry went back to the dungeons.

Class wasn't scheduled to start for another twenty minutes, so he wandered into Snape's office, sat in Snape's chair, and threw his feet up on the desk. He saw the picture at once and couldn't believe he'd missed it earlier. Dropping his feet to the floor in a fit of laughter, he lifted the frame. There they were in front of the Criterion, only Snape had drawn mustaches on Ron, Hermione, and Harry himself. Sara's image remained unmarred. He pulled out his wand to remove the extra artwork, and then thought better of it. It was just too funny.

Harry undid the clasp on his robe and let it fall over the back of the chair. His spirits sank at the sight of Ron, mustache and all. His eyes lingered on the photo of his friend and Snape's words came back to him.

They could be mad by then, or irrevocably changed...

Harry wondered how Snape was making out. Surely he'd flown to London, or gone to Hogsmeade and used floo powder or something, not taken the train. He'd been gone so long now that Harry worried he couldn't find what he needed.

"It's you!"

Harry, having been startled, looked up to find his favorite evildoer in front of him with surprised, questioning eyes. "Me? Yeah, last time I checked."

"What do you think you're doing, sitting in Snape's chair? Indeed! I'd hate to be you when he finds out you've been rifling through his office."

"Little slow on the news, aren't you, Malfoy? Snape's gone for the day. Dumbledore asked me to teach his class. Besides, I'd hardly call sitting in a chair rifling."

Draco sneered. "Why would he ask you? The headmaster needs his head examined. I swear, if my father knew-"

"Malfoy?" Harry interrupted, meeting cool blue eyes. "You're father is an evil, deranged, lunatic. No offense."

To Harry's absolute shock, Draco smiled. "I know."

"Then why do you always-"

"Because, Potter. He scares people. I use what works, I'm a Slytherin aren't I?"

"To the core, I'm sorry to say."

"Maybe not so much anymore. Thanks to you and you're Wronski Feint, they think I'm a joke."

"Am I supposed to feel bad? You did run onto the field dressed as a Dementor, did you not? The way I see it, you deserved that Wronski Feint."

Draco grinned. "I guess you wouldn't be swimming in guilt. I certainly wouldn't, but when I get my hands on those damned Weasleys, I'm going to wring their identical little necks!"

"Saw the picture, did you?"

"Saw it? EVERYONE has a copy! I can't stop seeing it."

Harry laughed, unable to help it.

"Oh, shut-up, Potter." Malfoy folded his arms and scowled. "What happened? You fall under the Knight Bus?"

Harry gingerly touched his forehead. "Yup."

"Smug bastard. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, okay. This ought to be interesting." Harry sat up and waited.

"I want to talk to Sara and I want your permission."

"Why? She won't talk to you, no matter what I say."

"The memory charm wore off."

Harry considered this, what it could mean. Malfoy, Harry realized, remembered being hit by lightning. "Go on. I'm listening."

"I didn't mean to scare her. I was despicable. I understand now why she was afraid of me at the pub."

"She was afraid of you because you tried to force her to kiss you! And when she tried to defend herself, you pulled out your wand! Besides, she didn't like you before that. I think the word she used was vile. It must be your pleasant disposition."

"I'm used to Slytherins, Potter. They like to be treated that way. I guess I don't know how to act around regular girls, like Sara. When I met her I just barged in and expected her to adore me. Most girls can't help themselves you know, but when she didn't, I insisted. Then again, she's your girlfriend. I should have transfigured into a puppy."

"You're in love with her!"

"I am not! Don't be ridiculous!"

Harry realized he was trembling and fished the Confidall out of his pocket. "I'll talk to her but, if she agrees, I want to be there."

"Fine. Just don't punch me. By the looks of it, anger has become a bit of a problem for you."

"This?" Harry indicated his, bruised, three-inch scratch. "This was just for fun."

"Harry, there's something I need to ask you."

"What happened to Potter?"

"This is different. You're in danger and so is Sara."

"Is this the part where I fall at your feet and thank you? Sara has been in danger for a long time. Why do you think no one knew she was here? Hence the memory charm. And me? Danger's my middle name. Then again you've probably never seen that movie."

"Movie? What...Oh never mind." Draco took a deep breath. "Just give me some of your blood."

Harry grinned. "Throw in an arm, two teeth and a Mountain Dew and it's a deal."

Draco grew frustrated. "Aren't you the least bit concerned about Sara's safety? Are you really going to let her come to harm?"

"I would protect her with my life, you moron."

"Potter, you would protect a flubberworm with your life. It's beside the point. What do you think would happen if you weren't around to protect her? I need that blood. I'm asking you."

"Draco, you just said that your house considers you a laughingstock because of me. On top of that, when I broke your nose you vehemently vowed revenge. You've always hated me and now I'm supposed to trust that you mean well? Take your word on blind faith? I wasn't born last night. Get lost."

Malfoy ignored him. "True, I despise you, but anything I ever did to you was all in fun. I don't want you dead. Just the opposite, actually."

"I don't think you want me dead, but I don't think you would mind if someone came along and offed me, either. Now you're practically begging to help me and you haven't told me what you know."

"I can't. Please, you'll just have to trust me."

"Now it's please?"

"Malfoys never say please. I may be many things, Potter, but I'm not a liar. You must understand I'm telling you the truth."

"Why wouldn't you just save her yourself? She would consider you a hero. It doesn't add up."

"I'm not hero material. That's your department."

"Heroism is defined by one's actions, Malfoy. Anyone can be one."

"Actions? Do you remember the detention we served together first year? When we went into the forest? We stood side by side as Voldemort rose from the dead unicorn. You stood your ground. I ran."

"You were eleven."

"You're the only one who can stand up to him."

Harry looked Malfoy in the eye and saw none of his usual malice, only sincerity and impatience. And fear. There was a little of that, too.

Harry watched Draco for a long moment, looking for any sign of a trap. The fear and urgency never wavered. Harry sighed and pulled up his sleeve. "Get something to put it in."

* * *

"I can't believe our rotten luck." Hermione slammed her bag on the table. Harry sat alone in the common room, playing a solitaire game of exploding snap and the cards went flying in all directions.

"Thanks, Hermione." Harry looked around at the mess her bag had caused. "Accio." The cards flew into his hand. "Rotten luck? I feel better already."

"I sent an urgent owl to Flourish and Blotts. Diviners and their Devices was published by a long defunct independent house in 1723. Only two copies are still in existence. The owners of which are the Ministry of Magic, who acquired their copy from the estate of Tom Riddle Sr."

"And the other? Don't be so dramatic, Hermione. Just say it. Is owned by..."

"Lucius Malfoy."

Harry's face turned white.

"Dumbledore himself contacted the ministry to inquire about the page, only their copy seems to have gone missing."

"Which one do we have?" Harry wondered, thinking himself an idiot for trusting Draco Malfoy.

"There's no way to know." Hermione hesitated. "Harry? What's wrong? You look positively ill."

"Does it feel like we're being set up? Or am I paranoid?"

Hermione sighed and fell against the back of her chair. "I don't know. Everything's so coincidental. You finding the Orb of Arassel after four hundred years of obscurity, me happening upon this incredibly helpful, yet extremely rare book. And the books themselves, they both have ties to Voldemort. It seems likely he would know about the orb. You're right. It's almost as if he meant for us to have these things. What doesn't make sense is why someone vicious enough to attack four students in their beds would be trying to find it. It blows the idea of a set-up to pieces."

"Not unless it ties in with what's on that missing page. What does Dumbledore say?"

"He's told me nothing, but Snape came in while I was there. He was furious over the fact that you taught his class." Hermione paused to see him grin. "He was shouting so loud that, even though I was out in the corridor, I managed to overhear that wolfsbane and wormwood, among other things, were missing from his lab. Harry, whoever made that potion, they made it here."

"Morgio."

"I thought the same thing, but why would he? We can't automatically blame the DADA teacher, as likely as it may seem. He would know he'd be the most obvious suspect. He could be someone's scapegoat as well."

"He sleeps in the dungeon and has befriended Snape. He works for the ministry and has access to their library. It must be him!"

"There's someone else it could be. Draco Malfoy. His father owns one of the books. They could have been hiding the orb all this time as well. His is one of the oldest wizarding families around. They have loads of money and an enormous mansion to go with it. It's entirely possible."

"I can't believe it's Draco. He would never be so clumsy with a potion. It just can't be." Harry thought for a moment. "Maybe they found out I had the orb after I bought it?"

"Then last night would make perfect sense."

"I think we should be looking at Morgio."

"Almost every time we've jumped to conclusions we've been wrong. I'm not saying we are, but we need to keep an open mind."

"Agreed."

"Have you been to the hospital wing?"

"Yes. There's no change." Harry grew depressed. "I tried to cast a spell on Ron-"

"WHAT?!"

"For peaceful sleep. Madam Pomfrey screamed at me and threw me out. I only wanted to help, but she's right. It was stupid of me. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Don't be too hard on yourself, Harry." She reached across the table and grasped his hand. "They'll be ok."

He met her eyes and saw she almost believed it.

"Come on, let's go down to the Potions lab and see if we can lend a hand."

"Alright, but there's something I need to do. The sooner the better. Actually, you go ahead without me."

* * *

Harry stood outside the portrait hole in his invisibility cloak, nervously waiting as voices passed in the distance. No one came near. Gathering his courage and squeezing the Confidall, he spoke an almost forgotten password and slipped into the opening behind the statue of the one-eyed witch.

* * *

- 121 -