The Chalice of Morgridar

Chapter 6

Places and Names

For a moment, Caroline was very confused. She looked around the room. Robert pointed to her and then to himself in confusion. She looked back at Derius to see that he was continuing to look at them with an empty smile, but not exactly at them, she realized a moment later. He was looking slightly to her left as though there was another person standing there. She looked back at Robert and Felicia and noticed that they, too, were looking at the empty space.

And then it happened.

A sound emerged from that empty space. A scraping, scuffling sound. Disoriented, it took Caroline a split-second to realize that she could hear footsteps scuffling then squeaking on the stone surface of the floor. Then she heard a small thud and a soft cry. It sounded like it had come from a young boy. The sound of the footsteps grew louder and echoed around the small chamber, making it difficult to locate their source.

For a moment, Caroline's eyes continued to dart around the room, trying to locate the noise. Then Felicia, who was standing nearest the door, let out a small cry. Caroline turned to look at her roommate just as she was falling backward to the floor as though pushed by an invisible hand. She had not yet reached the ground when Robert sprinted forward, ducked around her, and spread out his arms and legs over the open space of the entranceway. He stood there, framed for an instant, and then suddenly tumbled backward into the darkened corridor behind.

"Robert!" cried Felicia.

But a moment later, he was back in the room, his arms outstretched and his fingers drawn as though he was trying to gather in the empty space around him. But that space was not empty, Caroline realized. Robert was struggling with someone - someone who couldn't be seen. She thought of running to help him but something made her hesitate. Instead, she watched mesmerized as he stumbled backward once again, fading briefly into the corridor, before once again gaining the upper hand in this strange tug of war and pushing his way back into the room. Then he suddenly jerked to his left, all the time pushing at something. Caroline watched incredulously as his face twisted to one side and an indentation formed on his cheek as though something was pushing at the side of his face. He let out another cry as a cut formed on the cheek and bright red blood emerged.

"Get your filthy animal paws off me!" he cried out, moving his feet back and forth in a schizophrenic dance. "I know it's you, you - pathetic - half-breed - aaaahh!"

Robert suddenly flew backward in far more spectacular fashion than Felicia had. His feet left the air and did not reach the ground again until he had completed an ungraceful arc that ended with an ominous thud into the stone wall at the side.

"Robert!" said Felicia again, and forced herself to her feet to walk awkwardly toward him, but Robert paid her little attention.

"Caroline!" he cried, wincing in pain. "You have to stop them!"

Caroline felt as though whatever hesitation had kept her rooted to the spot was suddenly lifted. A fear immediately gripped her. Whatever she thought of Professor Derius and his plans, someone - probably more than one person - had been watching them and now they were getting away armed with the damning impression that she had been here in this room and a part of his plans.

And whoever it was must not be allowed to share that information with anyone.

Caroline darted toward the opening and leapt out into the corridor. She was sure that whomever it was had already left the room. How far had they gone? She started to run in the direction of the outer corridor. They must have gone that way, she decided, though, of course, she could see nothing. Caroline strained her ears to see if she could hear anything then suddenly stopped, realizing that the sound of her own rushing footsteps was masking any noise her retreating quarry might be making to give themselves away.

"Keep running!"

Robert's hoarse voice echoed roughly out from the hidden room and into the corridor. It failed to conceal a raw fear that didn't suit him very well.

Idiot, thought Caroline, shut up!

She had the presence of mind not to respond aloud, though, and in the instant of silence that followed, she heard several sets of invisible footsteps running hard ahead of her. They seemed about a dozen yards away in the darkness. In a quick moment, Caroline focused on where she thought they were running, then continued her chase at full sprint.

"Stop!" she cried out. "I can see you!" she added, lying.

Not surprisingly, whoever she was pursuing did not stop. Caroline was about two-thirds of the way down the corridor, not far from the statue of Merwyn the Malicious, when the door at the end opened, sending light from the lanterns of the Charms corridor into theirs. In desperation, Caroline pushed herself to run even faster. She knew that if they made it out through that door and into the castle beyond, they could go anywhere and tell anyone. And she knew that she couldn't let them do that. Before she could think about what she was doing, Caroline had reached into her cloak and pulled out her wand. Without breaking her run, she pointed it straight at the door.

"Impedimenta!" she cried.

***

Nybyn reached the door first but shuffled Siosia and Christopher ahead of him. They were halfway through the threshold when the shrill sound of Caroline's voice was followed by a showering of stone from a piece of the wall just above them. Nybyn instinctively ducked and moved forward. His long rangy stride sent him cannoning into Christopher who hit the floor with a thud and a cry.

Siosia stopped running and swung back around. She looked down at the stone floor just in front of the open door but she had no idea where Christopher was. She looked up to see that Caroline was closing on them. Frantically, she dropped to her knees and felt around on the floor only to collide with another set of limbs which she supposed belonged to Nybyn. She wanted to shout at him to get out of the way but she didn't dare open her mouth. Apart from drawing Caroline's attention to their location, Siosia was sure her cousin would recognize her voice. She looked up again. Caroline was on the dead run, her wand held out in front of her. Siosia heard something shuffling just to her right. Nybyn? Christopher? Whoever it was, Caroline had heard it, too. Siosia watched as her cousin moved right up toward the entrance to the door.

The door.

In one quick panicked motion, Siosia lunged toward the door handle to close it, but as she did so, she felt her feet collide with something soft on the ground just in front of her. Christopher. Stabs of pain shot up from her knees she tripped and fell onto the stone floor. She looked up to see Caroline poised at the entranceway less than a meter in front of her prone form. Caroline pointed her wand down around in front of her. Her aim was wild; she obviously still couldn't see them, but she knew they were very near.

"I know you're there!" she said, in a desperate, breathless tone of voice.

Siosia ducked her head back sharply as Caroline swung her wand just in front of it. She still had no idea where Nybyn was but she hoped that he and Christopher had the sense to keep absolutely still. For her own part, she was too frightened to so much as breathe. She watched as Caroline continued to move her wand back and forth as though preparing to act at the slightest sound. Would she really try and hex them? Siosia would never have thought her cousin would do that, but now she wasn't so sure. Caroline had a feral look in her eyes that Siosia couldn't remember seeing before like a poisonous snake that had just been cornered.

Perhaps she should confront her, Siosia thought. Say something. Identify herself. Try to talk her out of all this.

But just when she had almost decided to take this sober course of action, Siosia felt her arms being grabbed from behind and somebody pulling her up.

"Don't make a sound," whispered Nybyn's voice in her ear.

But the damage had already been done. Not expecting Nybyn to grab her so suddenly, Siosia had failed to suppress a gasp. Caroline's head swung instantly in her direction. For an instant, Siosia was certain she had seen the shape of a hex form on her cousin's lip, but then Caroline chose to lunge forward through the open door, her arms outstretched to grab whomever it was kneeling on the floor right in front of her.

But she never made it.

The instant Caroline made contact with the door's threshold, she was repelled back into her corridor. She fell hard on her back and her wand pinged away into the darkness. It was as though there was an invisible shield over the opening or someone had pushed her. For a moment, Siosia thought it could have been Nybyn, but then she felt the Windylsyde's arms pulling her upright again from behind. She struggled against his grip, trying to move forward to help her cousin who was slowly stirring.

"She'll be all right," Nybyn whispered again, and Siosia recoiled as the stench of his breath found its way to her nostrils. "We've got to get out of here," he whispered urgently.

From somewhere on the other side of the door, Siosia could hear more footsteps running toward them, but against her judgment, she resisted Nybyn and leaned back toward the door.

"Christopher!" she whispered urgently.

"He's all right. Now come on!"

Siosia got all the way to her feet. She heard what sounded like two sets of footsteps starting to run ahead of her, one more awkwardly than the other. She took one last look at Caroline, then turned back and followed her friends away from the third floor corridor. She didn't stop running until she had reached the Slytherin common room, walked back into her room, and buried herself under the covers of her bed. She only wished she could distance herself as easily from confronting the nightmare that she had just witnessed.

***

"Lye!"

The voice seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby yet far away. Caroline forced herself to sit up. She felt pain in her back and her head.

"Caroline!"

Felicia's head swam into view. It seemed to Caroline like it was floating across the hall like a ghost. She blinked and forced herself to concentrate. She winced briefly at a sharp stab of pain in her head but managed to stop Felicia's head from moving.

"Are you all right?" said Robert, drifting into view next to Felicia.

"Are you seeing double?" asked Felicia urgently.

Robert held out his arm. "How many wands do I have?"

"Just the one in your hand, believe me," replied Caroline acidly. "What happened?"

"We came out to help you," replied Felicia. "We saw you struggling with them then I think one of them must have pushed you back here. Where did they go?"

Caroline frowned. "I don't know," she said. "I - It was strange." She forced herself to her feet, but immediately felt dizzy. Robert and Felicia held out their hands to support her but she waved them off.

"I'm all right," she insisted. "We've got to stop them. Where's my wand?" She began scanning the ground. "It fell out of my hand."

Felicia held out her hand and gave Caroline her wand. Caroline took hold of it quickly and moved toward the door, but Felicia put a restraining hand on her arm. "I'm sorry, Lye," she said, "but I think whoever was here already got away."

"I can't hear anything," added Robert, "and, of course, we couldn't see them. I think they must have gotten away. But one thing I know for sure," he added, sounding more determined. "That horrible beast thing in Slytherin. It was there. I wouldn't doubt that the other two were its kind as well. That's why we couldn't see them."

"Are you sure?" said Felicia.

"I could recognize its foul breath. It was digging its horrible fingernails into my cheek as well." Robert raised a self-conscious hand to his left cheek and massaged a small cut.

"But how could he get the other Windylsydes in?"

"How did it get in here in the first place?" asked Robert. "Who knows what it can do. Come on," he said to both Felicia and Caroline. "We've got to get back to the Professor. He'll know how to deal with this better than we do."

"Oh, no!" retorted Caroline, feeling a clarity of purpose move away the cobwebs in her head. "Whatever I'm doing, it's not going back in there! I'm finished with all this."

"That's a very narrow attitude, don't you think?" retorted Robert. "Who else is going to help us stop that thing? You saw the way he saw right through their disguise."

Caroline put her hands on her hips defiantly. "For all we know, whomever was here - magical creature or not - might be on their way right now to tell Professor McGonagall that there's an intruder in this school and that we're helping him. And the last thing I want to do is get caught back in there talking to him when she comes!"

Even in the darkness, Caroline could tell that Robert was now fixing her with a pitying expression.

"Whoever it was who came here is not about to go and tell Professor McGonagall or any of the teachers unless they would like to explain what it was they were doing in a restricted section and how it was they managed to make themselves invisible."

"How did they make themselves invisible anyway?" Felicia butted in. "Maybe they had a cloak."

Caroline felt her skin start to prickle oddly. The sensation went away, however, as Robert shook his head.

"They couldn't have had a cloak," he said, a little impatient at being distracted from his debate with Caroline. "It would have come off in the struggle." He gingerly massaged his shoulder as though to remind Felicia of his wrestling match with Nybyn. "Windylsydes wouldn't need invisibility cloaks either. They can camouflage themselves. That's my point!" He made an exasperated gesture and turned back to Caroline. "These things are dangerous. They wanted to spy on us because they know that we're the only ones who can stop them."

"Stop them from what?" asked Caroline skeptically.

"How should I know? But there's only supposed to be one Windylsyde in this school, not a whole group of them. No one knows what they really want or what they can do. And the one they let in here got itself sorted into Slytherin House. So what does that tell you?"

"Maybe we should be telling Professor McGonagall about them," suggested Felicia.

"And you think she'd believe us?" asked Robert. "She's the one that allowed the thing to study at the school in the first place. Think about it. Think about everything Professor Derius has told us so far. People in authority never want to believe anything until its too late. They don't want to confront it. They're afraid of making mistakes." He pointed a finger at Caroline. "Think about what happened to your parents and your uncle. Why did they start the D.A. in the first place? Because the powers back then refused to accept that Voldemort had come back! It's the same sort of thing all over again. Are you going to stand by and watch it happen when you could have done something to stop it?"

Caroline didn't answer. Robert sighed.

"Perhaps you're not as brave as your parents were."

"I'm - " Caroline started, then immediately stopped. "All right," she said, feeling more conciliatory but unprepared to admit she'd lost the argument. "We'll go back but I have a condition."

Robert sighed again. "Name it then, but don't take long. I don't think Professor Derius has all evening."

Caroline folded her arms across her chest. "I didn't say I was going to tell you. It's for him to hear. Now, come on."

Caroline turned heel and headed back toward the secret room as though returning had been her idea all along. Once reaching the door, however, she paused cautiously. The entranceway was still open but the room was dark. Sensing the others walking expectantly behind her, Caroline moved forward into the room. She had made it to the middle of the floor when the lights came on again.

Caroline fought hard to suppress a gasp when she saw that Professor Derius was still sitting in his chair. A stoic expression was etched on his face. It is as though he was a mannequin, waiting for someone to return and pull his strings. Then the mannequin came alive.

"Is everyone all right?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir," replied Robert, "but I'm afraid we let whoever was spying on us escape."

"He's not all right, sir!" Felicia protested. "His back is badly bruised! I saw it."

Derius' face twisted into a frown of concern. Caroline immediately decided that it wasn't genuine.

"Perhaps you should visit the hospital wing," he suggested.

"I think that would raise a few too many questions," replied Robert. "I'll recover, I'm sure. I've faced worse."

Caroline didn't fail to notice the look of admiration in Felicia's eyes at this pronouncement. It was all she could do not to roll hers.

Derius turned his gaze to Caroline. "And what of you, my friend?" he asked. "Is your head in one piece?"

Caroline self-consciously massaged her scalp. She could feel a nasty bump that made her wince, but the pain went away when she removed her hand.

"I - I think I'm all right, Professor."

Derius smiled wanly. "You are indeed true Gryffindors, all three of you. Do not blame yourselves for allowing your pursuers to escape this time. It is very difficult to catch what you cannot see. There is little question that their magical abilities were far greater than yours, but I very much hope to remedy this discrepancy if the three of you are willing."

Caroline looked closely at Derius and found him returning her gaze. He had hit upon the exact condition she had been planning to name. That he teach them how to stop whomever it was who'd been spying on them before they could do more damage. Caroline didn't know who it was that had come into the room that night, but she desperately wanted to find out why and how they had gotten there. She also wanted to know how they had developed enviable magical abilities such as disguising themselves without cloaks and setting up the invisible barrier to repel her when she'd tried to run after them.

"Who was spying on us, Professor?" demanded Robert, breaking into Caroline's thoughts. "I'm sure it was that wretched Slytherin creature."

Derius looked almost amused for a moment, then frowned.

"Shapes, figures. Every living thing gives off an aura if one is trained enough to see it. But no more. I knew someone was here but I'm afraid I couldn't say who."

Caroline's curiosity quickly evaporated, replaced with a renewed feeling of mistrust. She felt certain that Derius had seen exactly who'd come to visit them, but for some reason, he didn't want to tell them.

Unsurprisingly, Robert did not seem to share her suspicions. He let out a heavy sigh.

"I know it was that magical creature, though," he went on. "I have to confront him."

"I would consider that very unwise," said Derius. "At best, you have no way of proving your claim. At worst, you could get yourself and your friends into trouble. No, I believe that our little adventure tonight carries with it a valuable lesson: you are unprepared to face the enemies that await you. It is my job to change that."

In spite of herself, Caroline felt her curiosity return once again. "Can you teach us how to see through their invisibility, or see their auras, whatever?"

Derius smiled more fully and nodded his head, as though sensing that he had succeeded in engaging the skeptical Caroline. "I can teach you that and much more. I also suggest that you brush up on basic Defense spells. I'm afraid, my young friend, that your Impediment curse would scarcely have halted the progress of a bumblebee. And your aim will need improvement also. Oh, I don't mean to criticize too harshly," he added quickly, as Caroline started to open her mouth to protest. "It's much easier to concentrate in the safe environment of a classroom than in real battle, but it is precisely for battle that one's Defense skills are required. I don't mean to criticize your uncle," he went on, as though countering Caroline's next protest before she had uttered it. "He understands as well as anyone the need for practical Defense training and, after all, it was he who started the D.A. But it may be that you are all called upon, as he was, to face dangers greater than those that Hogwarts students are commonly asked to confront. I can advance your training to help you to meet those dangers - if you are willing, that is."

There was a moment of silence.

"Can we begin with the see-through-invisibility spell thingy, though?" asked Felicia.

"Of course." Derius smiled again. "You've all got your wands still in your hands, I see, so we can get started right away," he went on, sounding animated for the first time Caroline could remember. "Please spread out for safety's sake - Miss Fingle, step away from Mr. Mince. Now, grip your wands firmly and point them at an empty place on the floor."

The students did as they were told.

"On my mark - swish and flick - and enunciate: Manifesto!"

***

Christopher saw the handle turning before he heard the soft sound of the door slowly opening. He had been watching it very closely for some time now. He knew it had to be Siosia. No one else would have made the effort to keep so quiet.

Her reddish-brown hair was tangled across her face, but otherwise she seemed no worse for wear. Most importantly, she was fully visible again. She took a quick look around the common room to make sure it was only the three of them, then walked forward purposefully. Her eyes were alert but there was a hardened look behind them. As she walked closer, Christopher could see that the look was not for him.

"You took your time, didn't you?" said Nybyn nonchalantly, idly levitating a small stool with his wand. "We were beginning to wonder whether we should mount a rescue operation. Now, let's think about what we've - "

Nybyn broke off as Siosia grabbed the stool, shoved it back to the floor, and sat down on it.

"That's not very nice. I was just getting good - "

"I just came out to tell you that I don't want any more to do with your plans and frankly I'd be happier if you kept as far away from me as possible."

Siosia got to her feet again and angrily stormed back toward her room.

"Oh, don't go," Nybyn protested. "Things were just starting to get fun. You're put out because I didn't warn you about your cousin, aren't you?"

If Nybyn had intended to get Siosia's attention, thought Christopher, then she had succeeded. If she'd wanted to mollify her anger, however, then she had spectacularly failed.

Siosia swung around to face Nybyn again, her face flushed a deep scarlet. A few strands of her hair cascaded down around her face, but she made no attempt to push them away. As she advanced on Nybyn, she had a stormy look in her eyes that made her seem more like a predatory beast than a friendly little girl.

"You knew!" she hissed at Nybyn. "You knew it was my cousin from before! Why didn't you tell me?"

"If you must know, you wouldn't have believed me, or worse, if you had, you would have tried to confront her and stop her somehow." Nybyn sighed. "And then everything would have gotten as hopelessly tangled as one of Sybil Trelawney's knitting patterns. Humans are always so predictable when it comes to their blood clans."

"I had the right to know!" retorted Siosia, raising her voice. "You should have told me before you put me danger, put us all in danger!" She turned briefly to Christopher, acknowledging his presence for the first time since she'd walked out of her room.

"I didn't force you to come," protested Nybyn.

"That's not the point!" Siosia barked.

Nybyn smiled. "By all means, shout a little louder. I'm sure Clarissa Caldwell would love to hear where we've been tonight."

Siosia ignored him. "I trusted you!" she shouted. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend, dear, if it makes you feel - "

Siosia's eyes seemed to expand. "You are not my friend! You lied to me!"

"I didn't really lie; I just - "

"You misled me," said Siosia more softly. "You pretended to be my friend so you could gain my trust, but it was only for your own amusement." She sounded very sad. "You might not be as bad as Clarissa, but you're a Slytherin if I ever saw one."

And with that, she turned around and walked back again to her room.

Christopher looked back at Nybyn to see if she would try and stop Siosia. Instead, she let out a long sigh and muttered something like "humans," then sunk to the floor and pulled her knees to her chest as though trying to blend in with the chair had suddenly become far more interesting than working out whatever was going wrong in the school.

"S - S - S - Siosia, wait!"

The words had come out of Christopher's lips before he could think about them. Siosia turned back around to face him. Her face softened slightly.

"Is your ankle all right, Christopher?" she asked.

"I - I - I - I - I - I - "

Christopher stopped. He felt a surge of frustration that was all too familiar. It wasn't as though he'd forgotten what to say or couldn't think of the words as people sometimes imagined. It was just that he couldn't always make them come out of his mouth. He half-expected Siosia to turn back around and walk into her room, impatient at his interruption, but she stood in place and continued to look at him.

"I - I - It's fine," he finally said.

"I'd stay away from him if I were you." She nudged her head to indicate Nybyn.

They looked at each other for another moment. Christopher knew he couldn't afford to alienate his new friend and he didn't want to have an argument with Siosia like the one she was having with Nybyn, but he couldn't let things go like this. Something more important was going on than either of them and someone had to remind her of that. Christopher had never gotten used to being put down and shouted at, no matter how much it had happened to him, and he'd do anything to avoid it. But over the years, he'd learned how to take all of the fears that swarmed for attention in his head and push them to one side, to do whatever had to be done or say whatever needed to be said without thinking about it if necessary. He saw in his mind's eye the large lake at the end of the rolling slopes beyond his family's estate. He saw himself looking at the water, knowing it was far over his head, then closing his eyes and jumping in.

"I-I-I-I d-don't think sh-sh-she c-can be trusted ei-either - " (Nybyn let out a small "humph") " - but, S-S-Siosia, w-w-w-what a-a-are you g-going t-t-t-t-to do about y-your c-c-cousin? You c-can't just f-f-forget a-a-about wh-what we s-saw, c-c-can you?"

Nybyn clapped her hands triumphantly and let out a girlish giggle.

"He's so cute when he's right, don't you think?"

Siosia looked from Christopher to Nybyn in consternation. "I didn't say I wasn't going to do anything, just not with you." She looked pointedly at Nybyn.

"But what are you going to do?" asked Nybyn.

"Not telling!"

"You have no idea what to do."

There was a damning silence.

"L-l-l-let's a-at l-l-least t-talk a-a-about i-it t-t-t-together," suggested Christopher.

Nybyn grinned broadly.

Siosia frowned. "I suppose I should tell my father."

Nybyn shrugged. "I'm not opposed."

There was another pause. Siosia sighed.

"No, I don't think I will," she said. "It would get Caroline into an awful lot of trouble." She hesitated. "I'll talk to her."

"And tell her we were there?" asked Nybyn, looking doubtful. "What if she goes and tells Robert? Or are you very sure she won't? She seemed quite comfortable pointing her wand at us."

"She didn't know it was me."

It was obvious from the half-pained, half-confused look on Siosia's face that, at that moment, she wasn't very sure it would have made any difference if Caroline had known.

"A-a-and wh-what i-if this w-w-wizard's u-up to s-s-something d-d-dangerous? A-a-and w-we knew a-a-and w-w-we didn't t-t-tell anyone," Christopher pressed.

"We could keep spying on them," suggested Nybyn grinning.

"Are you mad?" said Siosia. "He saw right through us!"

"I just need to perfect the potion," said Nybyn, looking slightly put out.

"You already did perfect it. We were invisible!" retorted Siosia.

"Why, thank you, dear!" Nybyn smiled as Siosia groaned in frustration. "I see your point, though," she quickly added. "Perhaps we don't need to spy on them at all. I have another little idea."

"Fancy that," said Siosia acidly.

"We'll just have to put a stop to his visits," said Nybyn, matter-of-factly. She sighed. "I would like to have learned more, but it's obvious he's up to no good otherwise he'd just come in and walk through the front door. And anyone Robert's involved with is bound to be up to no good, anyway. No, there's nothing more for it. We'll just stop him from coming."

"What a brilliant plan!" said Siosia. "I wish I'd thought of that, don't you, Christopher?"

"I'm glad you think so." Nybyn smiled. "I've had better but - "

Siosia wrung her hands in exasperation. "Please explain to me how two first-year and one second-year Hogwarts students are going to stop someone who can Apparate as he pleases through unbreakable wards and see through invisibility potions, and Merlin knows what else."

"I was coming to that bit," said Nybyn, continuing to smile. "I fancy he's had some assistance. There's an odd sort of thing out in the Forbidden Forest."

"Another thing you didn't tell us about?" said Siosia suspiciously.

"That's not fair! I didn't know it had anything to do with him. But when I saw that blue-tubed contraption above his chair, it reminded me of this funny blue stone sort of get up I'd seen in the forest. I thought it was just a bit of rubbish but now I wonder."

Siosia and Christopher waited for Nybyn to go on but she only put her yellowing fingernails together and looked at them thoughtfully.

"W-w-w-well, a-are y-y-y-you g-g-g-going to t-t-take us th-there?" Christopher asked.

"That's the spirit," said Nybyn. "Whenever you like."

"We're not supposed to go in the forest," said Siosia.

"I suppose I'll have to brew up some more potion."

"I'm taking anymore of that foul, vile - "

"Yes, all right," said Nybyn, holding up a hand. "Of course, there is another way. You could ask your father if he would lend you his invisibility cloak."

"And tell him what?" asked Siosia.

"That you're his daughter and that it's high time that what was given to him was passed along to you. You know, 'use it wisely' and so forth."

Siosia took a large accusatory step toward Nybyn. "How do you know about that?"

"You are a funny thing, aren't you?" came the reply. "Everyone knows that, dear. Oh, it's not in any of the official histories, but the legends and rumors are everywhere. And they're not wrong, are they?"

Siosia frowned and turned to Christopher. He gave a sheepish shrug and a nod to confirm that Nybyn was right. Siosia turned back to Nybyn and sighed.

"I'll think about it," she said.

"Do that," said Nybyn. "Your father's quite a reasonable wizard, you know - and a very good teacher. I attend his lessons religiously, at least once every couple of weeks, that is."

Siosia went to go back to her room, then hesitated, and turned around again.

"This doesn't mean we're friends again," she said to Nybyn through narrow eyes.

Nybyn smiled. "Of course, it does, dear. But have it your way if it makes you feel better. Good night!" she finished, as Siosia went into her room and closed the door behind her.

***

Ron was late. Buying the flowers had made him even later, but it had been worth the risk. He wanted to start the evening off on the right note, when it so easily could have been otherwise. To be honest with himself, he also wanted to deflect any unwelcome questions as to why he hadn't arrived home earlier. He hoped Hermione would be impressed with the freshly cut bouquet he was carrying and could tell the flowers apart from his attempts at a conjured variety.

Ron paused for a moment to shoo a gnome away with his foot as he made his way up the stone path to the entrance of their Aylesbury bungalow with pre-enchanted magically enlarged upper floor. He could see the lanterns flickering inside. The curtains were wide open, which he thought a little strange. At first, he couldn't see Hermione inside but then he caught a glimpse of her entering from the dining room. She glanced at her watch twice as he was walking up the path, both times causing him to progressively quicken his step. He could see her looking around the sitting room, obviously expecting him to Apparate in front of her rather than come into the house from the front. He bounded up the last few steps to the slightly raised doorway and playfully rang the doorbell.

Ron smirked as Hermione half-jumped, obviously not expecting anyone to ring. Then she slowly adjusted her still bushy hair and made her way to answer the door.

"Special delivery for a Mrs. Weasley," said Ron, holding out his bouquet of Puffapods and smiling.

Hermione looked too surprised to respond for the moment, but then a smile lit up her face as she took them in her hands. Ron felt his tense muscles begin to unwind. The evening was going to go well. She was going to forget about him being late and they weren't going to have any rows.

"Let me conjure a vase for these," said Hermione, opening the door to let him in and walking into their kitchen. She took out a wand, flicked it once, and a vase half full of water appeared on the counter. She flicked the wand again and the flowers arranged themselves neatly in the vase.

"You're getting quite good at nonverbal magic," remarked Ron.

"I ought to be able to by now, don't you think?"

"Well, of course, I didn't mean - "

"Why were you late, anyway?"

Ron froze. "I - I - I was just - you know, work and everything."

Hermione eyed him closely for a moment. He felt certain she wasn't going to be content without pressing him to tell her more but then she turned her attention back to the fire on the top of the stove where a wooden spoon had been enchanted to stir a thick broth.

Ron found his attention also drawn to the food and the pleasant aroma that was wafting up from the fire.

"Is that Gurdyroot stew?" he asked, feeling an instinctive gurgling in his stomach. "What's the occasion?"

Hermione smiled at him. "What's the occasion for the Puffapods?"

Ron shrugged. The corner of Hermione's mouth turned up in an ironic smile, but she said nothing until a moment later when she beckoned Ron to help her by levitating two bowls she'd prepared. The broth cauldron tipped to fill the bowls with stew as they arrived on the stove. Gathering some bread Ron and Hermione moved the food into the dining room where Ron was surprised to see that Hermione had arranged two crystal candle holders at each end and prepared the non-tarnishing silver goblets and spoons for them to eat with.

"Is there an occasion for this, too?" Ron asked.

Hermione only smiled.

"Accio flowers."

The vase of Puffapods obediently found its way to the center of the carefully laid table as though Hermione had planned it that way even before Ron had arrived.

The dinner passed mostly in silence. Ron had been unable to resist tucking into his broth with considerable relish. He hadn't really eaten much most of the day. Not to mention that the broth was absolutely delicious. Hermione had made quite a good Gurdyroot stew before but this time she seemed to have completely outdone herself. As he noisily scraped up the last remnants of his meal, he was tempted to ask her whether she'd added something to her recipe. When he looked up, however, he suddenly realized that he'd been devoting far too much attention to his wife's food and far too little to her.

"I - I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Don't be," said Hermione as though reading his thoughts. "You obviously enjoyed it. And as the chef, I can only feel pleased."

She smiled at him again. There was a high color in her cheeks. Ron started to feel at ease again. Twice now he'd assumed she would get angry with him or make an excuse to pick a fight, but twice she had not. She was obviously thinking the same thing he'd thought when he went to buy her those flowers: they needed to get their relationship back on better ground. It was stupid to fight all the time and by doing so, they weren't only hurting themselves, they were hurting their daughter. For a moment, Ron wished that Hermione hadn't found a way to deactivate their wizard rings. He found he very much wanted to know what she was feeling right now. But then he dismissed the thought almost immediately: things were still not right, and if they were joined again, Hermione would know that and it would be far more than she could take.

After Ron had scoffed down a second helping and his stomach felt finally content, he helped Hermione gather up the remaining bowls into the kitchen for the washing spell. The time was passed in silence, but it was a sweet, pleasant silence. Finally, they finished and Hermione gently tugged on Ron's elbow and smiled, motioning him into their sitting room. They had made it only as far as the connecting hallway, however, when Ron spontaneously reached out, snaked his arm around Hermione's waist, and pulled her toward him until their lips touched.

Hermione didn't pull away from him, but Ron felt her shoulders stiffen even as she returned his embrace, and as he pulled her face to his, he didn't miss the anxious expression that was written all over it.

And so Ron drew his arms away. He felt his sudden surge of passion evaporate as quickly as it had come, replaced by a horrible empty feeling of normality as he stared across at his wife.

"I - I'm sorry. I - I suppose we're not - "

We're not used to it, said a painful voice inside his head. We don't do this anymore.

"N - no, no, Ron," said Hermione, her face flushed. "Please, I - I just wasn't expecting it. Y-you startled me, that's all. Please," she repeated and moved toward him.

Slowly and more carefully, their arms intertwined once again. Ron wondered if he could bear seeing the same pained look on Hermione's face and was tempted to close his eyes, but he forced them open. This time, as he watched his wife's face move toward his, the only thing he could see on her face was a determined passion.

And then their lips touched again. Slowly at first but then with more certainty, more loving. Their arms shifted around each other's bodies in time with the movement of their lips. Hermione's kiss was gentle yet passionate, firm yet kind. When they finally released one another, Ron felt an incredible warmth swimming around his body that he was very sure hadn't come from the delicious stew he'd just devoured. One look into Hermione's expectant eyes made him feel certain she was feeling exactly the same as he was. Their fingertips remained touched. Hermione tugged at his hands and motioned him back toward the sitting room.

His feeling of unease and uncertainty now vanished completely, Ron followed her like an obedient puppy dog trailing after its master. Ron expected her to make for the longer settee they had received from Harry as a wedding gift charmed to sink at the middle and push its occupants closer together, but Hermione settled into the well-worn single armchair at the head of the room. Not the least thwarted, however, Ron pushed himself onto an empty space beside her and put his arms around her shoulders again.

"This chair is meant for one person, you know," said Hermione, still smiling.

"I'm sure we can manage," said Ron, moving closer to Hermione and planting small kisses around her cheeks, lips, and neck.

"Stop it, Ron," said Hermione giggling.

"Why?" said Ron, speeding up the kissing. "I'm not tickling you, am I?"

Hermione giggled even harder. She pushed him away lightly with her hands. "I-I mean it - really, just for a moment." Ron could see that she was trying to stop giggling, though a smirk still danced on the corner of her lips. He was fairly sure he wasn't in the mood for anything serious right now but something in her eyes suddenly made him stop.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I - I just wanted to talk about something - important."

"Is this why you made me a special dinner?" asked Ron, feeling his passion start to ebb again.

"No - well, maybe part of it, but only a part," she quickly added. "I just - I don't want to fight with you all the time, Ron."

"Neither do I," Ron added quickly. "That was why I - "

Hermione ignored him and kept talking. "I mean it's not good, of course, for us - and also for Caroline."

Ron nodded.

"I mean," Hermione went on. "I'm worried about her, Ron. I'm really worried about her."

"Well, we talked to her after she left that day, didn't we? She told us everything was all right now and she'd forgotten about it and all, didn't she?"

"But it's not just that one day, is it?"

"Well, I - I suppose we need to stop having so many rows, as you say. We're off to a good start tonight, don't you think? A little bit of snogging does wonders."

Ron leaned forward to kiss Hermione again but she gently pushed him back.

"That's not all," she said, a little pensively. "I - I wonder whether it's really fair, the burden we've put on her."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione looked squarely into Ron's eyes.

"I mean - you know, the secret."

There was a moment's pause.

"You mean the locket," said Ron quietly.

"Yes," said Hermione, obviously pleased that Ron had caught onto her meaning. "That's right, the locket. I don't know whether it was fair putting that responsibility onto her."

"Well, she doesn't really know about it, does she?"

"That's what makes it unfair!"

Ron sighed. "That wasn't what you thought earlier."

Hermione paused. "I know. That was when we were - well, when we were keen not to let history repeat itself."

"Well, I'm still keen. And I'm totally not happy about it either, but it's the only way to keep Harry and Ginny safe!"

"Well, I'd rather think of another way, that's all. I don't know if we can but - but I'd just rather. It's just a thought, I-I suppose."

"Fair enough. I'll think about it. In the meantime...." Ron let his voice trailed off.

"We'd better try hard to stay on the best of terms." Hermione smiled again and leaned closer to Ron. She cupped his chin in her palm and pressed her lips to his. Their arms quickly joined. Ron soon found himself forgetting about everything in the world except Hermione.

***

Harry tried very hard to keep still. So far he hadn't woken Ginny. He tried to keep his thoughts still as well, for he knew that they would wake her just as easily. The pitch blackness of their room at night meant that it was very difficult to make out her form lying beside him, but the warm, familiar contours of her body against his made her image in his mind as clear as if a sun from the brightest summer day was shining through the curtains of their window.

As a child, Harry had rarely been touched or hugged. He remembered vaguely but bitterly an age when he believed that if he just tried to please his aunt and uncle a little bit more - if he could just keep his bed straighter after he got up each morning, learned to cook a better breakfast, or keep quiet about Dudley's constant taunting - then he would receive the same sort of affection that they showered on him. He remembered how a teacher - one of the few good ones - in his early years in a Muggle primary school began to suspect he was neglected. Her concerns eventually prompted a visit to the Dursleys by a Little Whinging social worker. For a few brief hours one Saturday afternoon, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had shown Harry the warmth and concern he'd been missing for years only to snatch them away again as soon as the door had shut on the ineffective agent of the Muggle state.

After a time, Harry took no interest in anyone's attention. He spent most of the remainder of his childhood trying to stay as far away from others as possible, as though his body was the last line of defense preserving the sanity of his soul. Even after Harry had made it to Hogwarts and formed real friendships, he preferred to shy away from any physical touch. He remembered how he'd instinctively squirmed when Molly Weasley had first put her arms around him. He'd later learned to keep still, but though he'd appreciated her intentions, Harry hadn't felt comfortable with her affection. It was as though she'd known he'd been neglected and wanted to make up for it somehow, but Harry didn't want to remember that he'd ever been that weak. He'd liked Hermione's hugs even less. She'd always grabbed onto him so tightly and often without warning. There had always been something possessive about her affection as though she'd been afraid that if she didn't hold on firmly enough, he might disappear into thin air, never to return.

And then there had been Ginny. Not that she'd ever tried to touch him when they were younger; in fact, she'd always tried to stand as far away from him as possible. But he knew, in his heart of hearts, that she was thinking about him, that she imagined being close to him, and that terrified Harry so much that for years he didn't want to admit to himself how she felt. Only now that he'd grown to adulthood and they'd spent many years in each other's company had Harry realized he'd been terrified to trust her, that if he'd let her in and she'd decided to leave him - or worse, been killed in the war - that somehow he would never recover.

It would have been hard for the child Harry to believe he would spend nearly every night of his adult life tussled in the limbs of another human being, but now he found it hard to imagine sleeping without having Ginny curled up beside him. Confronting his teenage passions had first drawn him close to her, but as they'd grown together, it was the peaceful comfort of her intimacy that he thought about whenever they were apart. Only Ginny had changed his childhood fear into something he now longed for. Even after all their years of marriage, she always seemed to fold into his arms in a slow, gentle, quiet way, not out of pity or fear of losing him, but simply because being close to him was where she belonged. And whenever Harry was curled up inside her, he experienced what he could only describe as the powerful, tangible feeling that in whatever he did, he was not alone.

But all that could end soon. If he couldn't find a successor for Dumbledore in the next few months, the world and everything in it could be gone. And like a wave of destruction knowing no passion or meaning it would take he and Ginny and all of their love along with it.

The realization struck Harry like a horrible chill. He felt his heart start to race and sweat form on his forehead. True, it was this worry that had first woken him from a restless sleep, but he'd labored to make it go away by dwelling on the sweetest memories of his life. And now it had returned unbidden to his thoughts like a predator who had stabbed him from behind when he'd least been expecting it.

"Harry."

Harry felt his thoughts jerked back again.

"I - I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. Let's go back to sleep." He ran his fingers through Ginny's soft, luxuriant hair, slowly at first but then with an urgency he found difficult to disguise.

"Harry," said Ginny again, more softly. She ran a finger along the side of his rib cage just underneath his chest. "Go back and talk to Professor Slughorn. Maybe there's something - " she hesitated a little. "Maybe there's something you've overlooked."

"I will. I - promise," he said.

There was a pause. Ginny tossed her head, then nuzzled her face next to Harry's stomach so that the strands of her hair fell into a spiral across his body.

"I love you, Harry," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

He didn't answer her, nor did it seem she meant him to. He stroked her hair slowly. Less than a minute passed before he could once again hear the soft rhythm of her breathing in sleep. Another few minutes passed before Harry started to feel his own eyelids grow heavy. At last, his brain slowed down long enough to let him drift into unconsciousness.

***

Robert concentrated on directing his anxious thoughts into slow measured footsteps. A pair of first-year Hufflepuff boys ambled quickly past him, obviously late for dinner. One of them eyed him for a curious instant then quickly turned away. Robert would have been surprised if they'd stopped to question him. He'd long since learned that his size and bearing gave others the impression of authority - firm, fair, but intimidating if provoked. The Prefect's badge helped, too.

Of course, it didn't work on everyone, he reminded himself. And that was why he was here.

Glancing up and down the corridors to confirm they were now completely empty, Robert slowly turned the handle to the door that led to the restricted third floor corridor. It was through this entranceway that, less than twenty-four hours earlier, Caroline had failed to stop the half-breed Nybyn and its gang of invisible Windylsydes from escaping. As he slowly walked through the door and closed it behind him, Robert reflected that if one good thing had come out of their failure of the previous night, it was that it had gotten Caroline rattled. For once, she'd listen to Professor Derius and practiced the Defense spells he'd taught them. At first, of course, she was more concerned they'd be caught by McGonagall than worried about what Nybyn was planning. As this following day had progressed, however, and no one in authority seemed to know of their escapade, she had begun to accept the idea that perhaps they faced a greater threat after all. Although she'd put up the pretense of defiance when he'd talked to her earlier in the afternoon, it was obvious she was taking him much more seriously now. And she wasn't about to tell McGonagall or anyone else what she feared they might be facing; she wanted to face it herself. He'd seen that from the look in her eyes. It was the same look he'd seen in face of her father when he and the other members of the Order had traveled to their final battle with Voldemort many years ago, a Pensieve memory gifted to Robert's own father from another member of the group.

Caroline's new-found determination almost made Robert's next task unnecessary. But not quite. With leadership and responsibility came difficult decisions. For all her disrespect, Robert wanted to believe that Caroline was trustworthy. If there was anything of her parents in her (and Robert was convinced there was) then she was exactly the sort of person they needed for the D.A. But Robert couldn't make decisions on instincts and impressions. The fact remained that Caroline was unreliable. She knew too much and had made too many threats about sharing that information with those who were simply not ready to hear it. If something else changed, if she became even more scared, then her still fragile trust in Professor Derius could be shaken too far, and she would go and alert McGonagall. Professor Derius had been right when he'd chided Robert the night before for not fully trusting others. It was the ability to trust that separated Gryffindors from Slytherins. But Robert was well read on wizarding history both from the officially sanctioned versions they were taught in class and the popular rumors and legends that went with them. He knew that Harry Potter's own godfather - himself a Gryffindor - had betrayed his parents and tried to kill Potter even after Voldemort's apparent demise. There was a right kind of trust and a wrong kind of trust.

Robert's ruminations about Caroline took him as far as the hidden room. But while pronouncing the spell to open the door had become routine, Robert still felt the same feeling of excitement tinged with apprehension on preparing for a meeting with the great teacher. The apprehension was greater this time as, for the first time, it was Robert who'd requested the meeting and not the professor. Still, he reflected, it wouldn't do for him to always follow if he was to truly learn to lead. Wasn't that what Professor Derius himself had told him when they'd first met? Robert's heart swelled with pride as he remembered how Derius had sought him out personally, how he'd told Robert that he'd been watching him for some time. The professor's pedigree had been obvious: he'd known things about Dumbledore, Voldemort, and the Order of the Phoenix that no one not close to the most important events of both wars could have possibly known. He'd been able to fill in details that Robert had wondered about ever since he was a child whose obsessive hobby had been to research the heroism of recent wizarding history. And it was obvious that his knowledge went back further still. More importantly, he had confirmed doubts and fears that Robert had never found anyone to agree to before - not his parents, his classmates, or his teachers - that, now many years after the demise of the wizard once so fearful that no one dared to speak his name, the wizarding world had grown soft. In the name of forging peace, they had formed alliances with former Death Eaters and magical creatures like the Windylsydes that would have turned to serve Voldemort at a moment's notice. Even the great Harry Potter was reduced to being a lackey of the school whose regulations he'd once disobeyed in pursuit of a higher justice. They had all forgotten that Voldemort hadn't created the evil that was already in others' hearts - he'd only known how to use it. And new monsters would grow to take his place, maturing as he had out of the blackened hearts of Slytherin students who were right now attending Hogwarts. Professor Derius had told Robert that it was up to him to revive the Defense Association and rid the wizarding world of the Tom Riddles of this day and age before they had chance to mature into Voldemorts.

As he stood in the center of the room, Robert found his heart beating quickly again. He'd allowed himself to grow agitated and riled up with his feeling of purpose, but now he needed to calm himself before facing Professor Derius.

Robert flicked his wand and the room lit up. The professor's chair was still empty. It was almost as though he'd known that Robert hadn't yet cleared his thoughts and was giving him a moment to do so. Robert found his mind drifting, as it sometimes did, to wondering what Professor Derius did with his time when he was not helping to instruct the D.A. Did he have a home? Was he busy teaching others as well? Was he mostly retired now or still active helping their purpose elsewhere?

Robert's thoughts were in mid-drift when the sharp blue light began to emerge in the tube that led up behind the chair to signal Professor Derius' reappearance. Robert chastised himself for once again letting his mind wander. What the professor did with his time was immaterial; he was here now, at Robert's request, to help him.

An instant later, Professor Derius appeared. Robert thought his face looked slightly tired but his eyes were still keen and alert.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir," said Robert in what he hoped was an appropriately solemn tone.

"And thank you for agreeing to postpone this meeting until tonight. I regret that I couldn't accommodate your request for a meeting yesterday. But let us not labor over procedure: you have troubled yourself to come here tonight for something of importance, I am sure. Please tell me what is on your mind."

"I - it's about Caroline Weasley, sir. I'm not sure we can fully trust her."

Professor Derius frowned. "Indeed," he said, "and what has led you to reach this conclusion?"

"Well, sir, for one thing, it's her attitude."

"She is truculent, I have noticed."

"Yes, sir," said Robert, pleased that Derius had caught onto his meaning. "She does not respect my authority, nor, if you will pardon my saying so, does she respect yours. And that is not all." Robert hesitated for a moment. "She has threatened to tell others about you. She said that if you didn't convince her that your intentions were just, she would go and tell Professor McGonagall about our meetings."

Derius leaned forward. "And you think she will make good on her threats?"

Robert frowned. "I'm not sure."

"I thought that she had made significant improvement in her attitude during our meeting last night. And it seemed she was most concerned that anyone in authority should know anything of our meetings."

Robert paused. It was true; she had said that to him out in the corridor. Perhaps Professor Derius had understood her feelings on the matter as well. He did seem to sense what others were thinking. He looked up to see the professor looking at him with a penetrating stare.

"Well, perhaps w - we could give her some time - or, another chance," he found himself saying.

Professor Derius nodded and smiled. It was an odd, toothless sort of smile that Robert found strangely disturbing.

"Then we've decided," he said. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Mince. I will indeed keep an eye on Miss Weasley. In fact," he added, his smile broadening, "I have been watching her very closely. And do remember what I told you when I first suggested you recruit her to our cause - over your initial reluctance, I recall: Miss Weasley is no ordinary young witch."

And then the eyes of Professor Derius seemed to take on a faraway look, as though he'd forgotten he was talking to anyone else but himself. For the first time since he'd met the great professor, Robert found himself confronted with the scepter of doubt.

"She is very important to our plans," added Derius, still staring off into space. "Very important indeed."