Owl Eyes

Owl Eyes

Chapter Twelve

The Three Broomsticks

What shall befall us all

When the Dark Lord comes to call

In the streets his servants meet

And the Dementors' kiss some shall greet

The spy some say has gone astray

He helps the valued get away

Some shall sleep and find their rest

With others rising to the test

Many wounds we have endured

And our hearts not left reassured

The fire within us ever burns

For the Dark Lord he returns

I was ready even before the morning came. I had begun to dress even before I could feel the warmth through the window as the sun made its ascent. My dorm mates slept soundly even as I left the room to seek out something with which to occupy my time. In the common room the fire had already been lit and I stretched and yawned before its warm beauty. With my back to its hot flames I devised a plan.

With a destination firmly planted in my mind I began my journey through the halls of Hogwarts. I was headed for the front doors so that I could go outside and enjoy the morning. I'd try my feet at running without Harry and clearly it would be an adventure. Life is certainly dull if one doesn't explore its full potential and I wasn't the dull sort at all.

After rounding my third corner I heard a squeaky voice say, "You are up quite early, Miss Lee."

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick," I replied with all the enthusiasm I could muster.

"I bet you are excited to visit Hogsmeade with your friends this afternoon?" he said politely.

"Yes, very. In America we have many wizarding neighborhoods where there are hospitals and a general store or two which might sell assorted items, but there are only five or six true wizarding towns or villages. Those are scattered throughout the country and I haven't been to one since I was seven, though I did have a grand time even then."

"Hogsmeade is simply splendid," Flitwick squeaked. "Make sure that you visit the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer. I wouldn't want you to miss out on one of the finest drinks we have to offer."

"I'll be sure to do that."

"Have a marvelous day, Miss Lee."

"I'll do that, and same to you Professor," I replied.

I continued my adventure through the corridors and onto the front lawn. When I neared the lake where I could hear the water gently lapping the shore, I paused. I hoped I wouldn't end up in the lake as a result of my jog. I imagined the giant squid, who was probably sleeping restfully at the bottom of the lake, extending his tentacles until he could reach me. He'd push his fish-like arms up as high as he could reach and grasp at water, reeds, air, or whatever he might catch. I'd be a goner for sure. I pushed the thoughts out of my head, turned to my left and began jogging.

When I had run what I'd guessed must be two and a half laps around the lake I suddenly tripped. I was thrown forward with a jolt and landed in a heap on my right knee with both hands supporting my fall. I sighed heavily. Without hesitation I rose to inspect myself. My hands were slightly bloody where twigs had broken the skin of my palms, and my robe had a large tear across where my shin was from whatever I had tripped over. I retraced my steps a few paces and found the culprit, a fallen log. I groaned. Why was there a log in my running path? How had I avoided it twice then collapsed over it on the third time around? I didn't know but it didn't really matter either. Believing that it was probably time for breakfast I began to make my way back to the castle. My hands stung as they bled and I realized I probably couldn't hide my fall from my friends. I wasn't in the mood for a scolding. In fact, I never really was though I had received several throughout my life. I just hoped I wouldn't lose house points for breaking some rule I didn't know existed.

I attempted to enter the Great Hall and slip into my usual seat at the Gryffindor table unnoticed but I was unsuccessful.

"What happened?!" Hermione screeched, her tone full of worry. "Let me see you." She was at my side in an instant. "You're bleeding."

"I'm fine."

"But-"

"Leave it alone, Hermione," Harry said.

"I can't," Hermione replied, her words directed at Harry. "What happened?" she asked me.

"Can we sit down at least?" I asked her.

She took me by the forearm and walked me to my seat but did not return to her own.

"You're making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be," I mentioned. "I don't want any professors finding out."

She returned to her seat, realizing that I didn't want to attract attention to the situation.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"I was just running," I continued, "and fell. It's no big deal. Just a little blood and a rip in my robe. I'll wash up before Hogsmeade."

"But you shouldn't be running alone!" she said quietly her voice still animated.

"It's my fault, really," Harry said with his mouth mostly full. "We're supposed to run together in the mornings but I wasn't up early enough. Besides, I thought we were gonna take weekends off, Lucinda?"

"Well I-" I started.

"Harry," Hermione scolded, "you should be more responsible. If you don't take, well you know, your work seriously then... well, it won't be good what'll happen because of your irresponsibility."

"C'mon, Hermione," Ron put in. "It's the weekend. I don't think one run really matters."

"Well-" she said.

I cut her off, "Can we just drop it?!" I boomed.

Most of the Gryffindor table fell silent.

"Alright," Hermione agreed.

"Sorry," I said, "and sorry I worried you."

"It's okay."

Breakfast was then eaten in silence.

***

An hour later found me changed into clean robes, my hands washed up, and waiting in line to go to Hogsmeade. Filch took his job of inspecting everyone who left and comparing them to his list of students with permission slips seriously. The line moved slowly and the eager bodies in it wiggled and twitched with anticipation.

Finally we were out the doors and walking across the grounds. Since my cane was difficult to use over rougher terrain, I clutched Hermione's elbow. We talked as we walked about what books or magazines we might want to buy but the boys went on about different things they could use to blow up the Slytherin common room. Hermione explained how they had snuck into it in their second year disguised as Malfoy's only friends. I knew I wouldn't be participating in those sorts of pranks so I paid the conversation little attention.

When we reached the village the sounds and smells were overwhelming. We passed a shop with screeching owls and meowing cats which I assumed to be some sort of animal shop. We then passed some sort of restaurant which smelled of wonderful lunch items, though it seemed to early for lunch wizards and witches were odd folk and ate different things at all hours. As the sounds and smells drifted in, and were stored in my memory, I could almost imagine what the people must've looked like. There must be all sorts who visited and lived here. All different robes, colors, velvet, lace, buttons and clasps all being different and styles both old and new being present. There had to be werewolves, vampires, ferries, goblins, and other types who frequented the various shops. Patrons both young and old must sip butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks which Flitwick had mentioned. I was excited with the goings on in the glorious village.

"Zonko's first," Ron was saying.

"You can't possibly be planning to do what you were talking about on the way here?" Hermione asked in a scolding tone.

"Well," Ron gulped.

"You can't be serious!" she screeched.

"Hermione's right, I cut in. "You can't just go around causing trouble when ever you want. There are more important things than torturing the Slytheranes. Besides, don't you think we got Malfoy good enough in the library?"

"They're right, Ron," Harry said sensibly.

"Well, can we go anyway?"

"As long as you aren't going to blow anything up," Hermione decided.

"Come on," Harry said, and the boys walked ahead.

I had commenced the use of my cane so made an effort to catch up to them, Hermione lagging behind me. They stopped and held the door open for me. I stepped into a cramped shop filled with the laughter of my noisy classmates. How did the shop owner stand the noise?

I received a full tour of the place.

"These nose biting tea cups are fantastic!" Ron said, putting one in my hand.

As I felt the contours of the cup and ran my index finger around the cup's rim it clamped down on my finger. At first I was not impressed but I couldn't help laughing as I tried to free myself.

I was shown all sorts of other things, Ever Stinking Socks, Smoking Quills which burnt holes in parchment if left still enough, Ever-Dull Blades which remained dull even when sharpened multiple times, Hide-It-All Ink to be rubbed on books so that the title would disappear and re-appear randomly, and Sneezascrolls which made anyone who wrote on them sneeze. I decided to buy a bottle of the Hide-It-All Ink just before we left the shop. It might keep people from stealing my books and I was curious if the reading spell I used could read the writing despite the product poured over it. Of course I bought a bottle of the cleaner to go with the ink just in case the spell couldn't handle reading through magic ink.

Next it was on to Honeydukes. Neither I nor Hermione protested when the boys had insisted we go there next. I couldn't believe the assortment of candy. I bought a pile of chocolate frogs, a bar of Honeyduke's best chocolate, several strawberry candies, and an enormous bag of caramels. Ron, Harry, and Hermione also bought their share of sweets.

"Three Broomsticks?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No," Hermione replied. "Lucinda and I need to get a few books."

"Books?!" Ron protested.

"Oh come on, it won't kill you," Hermione said dragging him off.

Scrollots turned out to be an enormous book store which also carried various types of parchment, quills, and drawing supplies. I was in awe of the place. The shelves, Hermione mentioned, were built to the ceiling. The place was quiet though, with little echo that would normally exist because of its high ceilings and large space. Only whispers of pages turning, or the whispers which come fourth from lips could be heard. Hermione led me through the enormous shop as we talked of different tomes and what we wanted to read. We had lost the boys near the drawing supplies.

"Here's the dueling section," Hermione said.

"Do they have the three books we used for that essay I had to write?"

"Just the one by Alastor Moody."

"Okay, I'd like a copy of it and I'll see if they can order the other two."

"Can I borrow them?"

"Of course!"

"Thanks. Let's see what else I can find." A few minutes later Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "Dueling as An Art!"

"Sounds interesting," I confirmed.

"I think I'll get this one. What else did you want to look at, Lucinda?"

"Something to read for fun."

"Poetry, short fiction, muggle literature, magazines?"

"No, some sort of wizarding text that isn't for school or on dueling."

"That doesn't narrow it down much. I think I'd like a biography, then we'll see just what we can find for you."

Hermione selected a book called The Stories of Five Prominent Gryffindor Witches and I found a book with funny stories called Hysterical Encounters with Muggles. When we had selected our purchases, ordered the two books the store didn't carry, paid for all of it and pulled the boys out of the shop-which wasn't difficult-we headed to the Three Broomsticks.

The pub was full of the noise of laughter and glasses clinking. Someone rushed passed me, must be a waitress or the pub owner I thought. Hermione had grabbed my arm and was half guiding me, half steering me through the tables to the back of the pub I imagined. I bumped a few chairs as we went and murmured apologies to their occupants. We made our way through the smoking section quickly and I coughed reflexively. Once we were seated I was glad we had found a table that wasn't in the midst of the pipe smoke.

"Where are Ron and Harry?"

"Getting butterbeers," Hermione replied.

"Professor Flitwick recommended them highly when I saw him this morning," I said.

"I like them better than most muggle options," she said pulling her chair closer to the table.

It was round and the chairs around it wooden yet comfortable. The atmosphere was welcoming. Not one of those places where you felt you should guzzle down your drink and get out of there so the table could be filled with other people.

Harry and Ron returned and I sipped at the warm butterbeer. Hermione had been right about its appeal over muggle concoctions.

The boys were on about their practices and the first game. Hermione and I were mostly quiet except for a few comments here and there. I was familiar with the sport but never followed it closely. If the announcer was good it could be enjoyable but otherwise I didn't care.

"We've trained an entire reserve team," Harry was explaining.

"I thought it'd be a good idea," Ron said shyly.

"It's a great idea, Ron," Hermione put in, setting down her glass.

"It'll help a lot I think," Ron replied.

I stopped paying attention to the conversation. I couldn't get my mind off of the times we were in. Sports, homework, and crushes on boys were far from my mind. The pranks Harry and Ron were planning sounded childish. I wondered whether or not Hermione and I could stop them from carrying them out.

"Perhaps we should get back to the castle," Hermione suggested. "I've got loads of studying to do."

"Is that all you think about?" Ron asked.

"Mostly"

"It's not such a bad thing, you know, Ron," I said encouragingly.

"And you don't have to come with us," Hermione reminded him.

"We may as well," Harry said. "I've got work to do too. Not a lot of it but we can play chess after."

"Alright," Ron agreed sounding defeated.

He slowly rose from the chair as did the rest of us. Hermione was guiding me out of the pub again. We made our way down the street, me using my cane again and the trio describing to me the shops we hadn't had time to enter. Hermione, every now and then, would comment on the clothes someone was wearing or the interesting things they were doing. Occasionally we passed a classmate and polite greetings were exchanged.

Suddenly Hermione gasped. Ron or Harry grabbed my arm firmly stopping my forward movement.

"What is it," I asked.

Before I could get the words out, Hermione said, "Dementors!"

"Death Eaters," Ron followed up with.

I froze. The temperature of my innards dropped considerabley. The chill and fear made me quiver.

"We've got to get out of here," Hermione gasped.

"We should help fight," Harry said bravely.

He seemed always the foolish one. He wanted to jump into everything blindly. He survived on the assumption that he would be okay. The thought that he would be a help to someone.

Ron was already firing curses."

Look who we have here. It's Harry Potter and his friends," a cold voice said dragging out each word.

I was terrified . Maybe I should've stayed in America. Truly this place was not safe for me, or anyone.

Screams were heard both from nearby and far away.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked coldly.

That wasn't Malfoy's voice, I mused. Perhaps it was a relative? His father?

Harry was clutching my arm.

"I think you know what I want," the man stepped closer.

"You're not getting anything from us," Harry spat back.

He then fired off a curse quickly. I was impressed at his speed. The extra work and practice was probably doing him some good. Malfoy was knocked out on the ground.

Footsteps running away from me were confusing.

"Dementors!" Hermione screeched again.

She left my side at a trot. I was confused and didn't know what to do or where to go.

"Ron?" I asked.

No reply.

I began making my way out of the street, attempting to find the building line at least. I needed to get out of the crossfire. Then suddenly I was freezing. I dropped my cane and pulled my robes around me. I shivered trying to find the source of my discomfort.

I fell to my knees remembering memories from the past. My grandmother dying in her hospital bed , her few last rattling breaths. How she wheezed on the last. The feel of the cold stiff body of my previous owl whom I had found dead on my bed. The yelp of a neighborhood dog who had been hit by a car. The laughter and taunts of kids whom I had once played with. Voices of Headmasters denying me entrance to their schools. Lectures from my cane travel instructor, her harsh bitter words almost cutting into my flesh.

Someone had grabbed my arm then. I hardly noticed or felt the firm, almost painful when I finally did realize it, touch. The feeling of Apparating. Was I safe?

"You are not ready to fight such a battle," Snape's smooth voice said directly into my ear. It was soft and protective. "You are at the Hogwarts' gates. You are safe here Miss Lee. You must make your way to the castle alone. I cannot afford the time to accompany you. Stay out of the forbidden forest or your fate shall be worse then it was in the town."

"Thank you, Professor."

"I require no thanks."

I reached out to touch him and found his arm. The contact was both brief and light.

"I must find Potter," he said backing away.

With a pop he Disapparated.

Would Harry be okay? I made my way forward, hoping that was the way to the castle. It was the way in which Snape had left me facing. I tried to avoid the forest, walking along its edge I could feel the stands of trees beside me. I dared not step closer to them. The ground was rough and I stumbled trying to pick my way over the rocks, dirt, grass, and unevenness. My cane had been left in the village.

I began to hear classmates returning. Some were moaning in pain and others tried to comfort them in vein. No one stopped to help me. Where were my friends? Had the worst happened?