Harry Potter and the Year of Revelations

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Chapter 8: Hogsmeade

Harry woke happily that morning. Soon he would spend a whole day alone with Isabelle. He was also excited about telling his friends the new discoveries he had made. He just imagined their faces when they heard it.

He didn't have long to wait. Over breakfast he whispered the fact that Ares had been Snape's and Oya's son to them after explaining how he went to seek his aunt out. For a minute they just stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, still not believing her ears.

"Of course I am. Oya said it herself," Harry said with certainty.

"Where is he now?" Ron inquired.

"He's dead," Harry informed them.

The two returned to their astonished expressions.

"How?" Hermione asked, recovering.

"I really don't know. Oya blames herself though. She said something like he had died because of her. It was also one of the reasons why she broke up with Snape." Harry looked around as he said this, making sure that no one overheard them. "She didn't directly say why Ares had died."

"Do you think that maybe Oya killed her son?" Ron wondered, but Hermione shot him a 'you're crazy' look.

"Ron, I don't think she would kill her own son. Besides, her son couldn't have been that old. Remember, when Voldemort died, she left England ... temporarily." She sounded very sure of herself, as always.

The three of them looked at each other, as if asking the other if they had an idea to fill in the gaps.

"Hmm. Ideas?" Harry voiced their thoughts.

"No." Hermione seemed disappointed at herself for not being able to work out the mystery. "Maybe if you could remember exactly what she had said..." She looked at Harry.

"Hermione, I'm not a tape recorder."

"What's a tape recorder?" Ron asked, his mouth full of his breakfast.

The two Muggle-raised sighed with exasperation. It was often hard explaining to him their Muggle concepts.

"Ok, don't tell me anything! Harry, how's your wandless magic going?" He swallowed a big bite of food.

"No time for that, Ron! We have to get going to class. It's Potions and we shouldn't be late for that," Harry told them, looking at his pocket-watch.

"Oh, right," Ron was clearly disappointed.

Harry had noticed that Snape hadn't even shown up for breakfast. He was afraid that after what happened last night he would be in a worse mood than ever. He hadn't told his friends about the fact that Oya and Snape had sex two nights before. He felt that it was too intimate to tell. He still saw the look on Snape's face.

Snape did open the door with a more solemn face than usual. The potion recipe was already drawn up on the blackboard. He didn't speak, just pointed at it and returned to his office.

They got busy with the prescribed work. Snape didn't even come back at the end of the class, so they just left. Harry was glad that at least he didn't take it out on them. Maybe he was too down for even that.

"Now that was odd," Hermione said when no one, but the three of them could hear. "He must really be down after last night. He was even paler than usual."

They both agreed with her. Harry chuckled a bit at the fact that they both thought the same thing. They all sat down in the Great Hall for lunch.

"Harry, could you finally tell us about your wandless magic?" Ron asked. Hermione seemed really interested about it.

Harry had never seen him this excited about anything study-related before.

"When I could finally do it, I did fully feel my magic. Aunt Oya and I tried various spells at night and I could do all of them. I didn't even really have to think of the wording of the spell, just what I wanted to do." He smiled brightly, proud of himself.

Ron looked at him in awe, but also had a hint of jealousy in his eyes.

"Did you try transfiguration?" Hermione's eyes were twinkling with excitement as well.

"Not yet. Oya said that is a lot more complicated, because then I have to feel the structure of the thing with my magic." He beamed at sounding cleverer than Hermione.

"What are you doing next?" she wanted to know.

"We are trying out all the spells I've learned these years and I'll finish with the Patronus. Then we'll do transfiguration and when I'm capable of that, we'll do... mind magic," he added in a whisper.

"Mind magic?!" they both exclaimed.

"Not so loud!" Harry looked around to see if someone had heard. "She said it's the next step. Now I have to gesture, point. Then I'll be able to do magic even tied down," he informed them, still whispering.

"That could be very useful with Voldemort around," Hermione pointed out, speaking quietly as well.

"I really could have used it on our last encounter. I'm glad she's teaching me this." Harry's voice was horse with the memory. Maybe he could have saved Cedric. He won't lose another good person.

"Then we can be sure that she's on our side," Hermione said with certainty.

"Really? Why?" Ron was surprised.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. She rolled her eyes and started to speak.

"Ron, she's teaching Harry new and more effective ways of defeating Voldemort. Why would she do that if she was still a Death Eater?"

"Ugh .... well ...." Ron stuttered.

"See?" She returned to her eating, indicating that she had nothing more to say on the subject.

Harry started to eat as well and Ron gulped down the food on his plate as if he hadn't eaten for a month.

Harry looked around, searching for Isabelle as always. While the others were eating, he was free to stare at her lovely face, watching as her small lips parted to take in her fork and the food on it. His 15-year-old mind started to wonder into mature territories, but he shook his head slightly, feeling odd thinking about such things. Instead, he returned to observing her. She was only picking at her lunch as usual, not really taking a bite. He wondered about that. What was the cause of her being so distraught? Could it be his proposal? He hoped that no obstacle had come between them. He noticed a black cloak fly behind her. It was the Finnish man. As Harry followed him with his eyes, he passed Hermione. She didn't even look up. Harry thought about how odd that was, since before she would notice his arrival right away. However, this time she didn't try to feed her own ear with her spoon, nor did she spill her drink all over herself, as it had become her habit of late. When he sat down at his place, she still made no sign of noticing him. Harry thought about what her behaviour could mean. Perhaps she was over him already. However, ha did sincerely doubt that. Ron noticed Reyis arriving as well and felt the immediate need to comment on it:

"Hey, Hermione, there's your boyfriend!"

"What?!" she looked up with alarm. Harry raised an eyebrow, because she was more startled than that sentence should have made her. "Who?" she asked, obviously forcing herself to be calm.

"Who else?" Ron said with triumph, apparently not noticing Hermione's distress. "Regis Niemi. He had just sat down and you didn't even notice. Your eyes should be popping out of your head right now."

"Oh Ron, grow up!" She looked relieved. "Stop bugging me about him," with an indignant sound she stood up and gathering her books walked out of the Great Hall.

"I was only joking. I would have never believed that she'd react that way." Ron blinked in surprise. "Harry, what do you think got into her?"

"I really don't know," he lied, for he had a suspicion that all was not right with her.

During Care of Magical Creatures he was absent-mindedly feeding an Augurey, a small, greenish-black bird. It was so shy that its tiny body shivered in his hands. He had to feed it the ugliest insects and he was thoroughly grossed out. Isabelle treated this creature like a baby as well. Harry marvelled at her beautiful heart that made her kind towards the little beast. He really just wanted to wring its neck when it suddenly decided that his finger was a worm and tried to bite it off. He gave a painful cry. The Slytherins snickered behind him. Hagrid rushed to his side and nervously asked him what was wrong.

"It's all right. I just got bitten."

"All right, Harry, but be careful," the giant reminded him.

"I will." The worry on the half-giant's face made him blush a little.

Harry returned to feeding it and wondered how much food it would need. He decided that it had had enough and put it in a cage on his right. After that he picked out another one from the box on his left, moving quickly so the others wouldn't bite him.

As his hands moved methodically between the insect plate and the bird, his thoughts wandered away to what happened during lunch. Hermione was clearly up to something. Recently, he had caught her lying about her whereabouts. She had told them she would be in the library one day. However, when he went to ask her about a potion, she wasn't there. He looked up a couple of things in some books, and when he had been there for an hour, she arrived. She reddened upon seeing him, but even before she noticed him, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were twinkling in a way, which Harry didn't recognise. She made some obviously false excuse about helping out a first-year as a prefect. Harry tried to give no indication of any doubt, but he kept his eyes on her.

Now she was distressed when Ron said the word 'boyfriend'. Could it be that she had a boyfriend? But then why hadn't she told them? Harry considered the possibility. He realised, that could very well have been the reason! She didn't tell them about him, because she didn't want them to bug her about it, like they had done with Krum. Harry, himself of course wouldn't now, but Ron was so juvenile when it came to such things. Or perhaps it was somebody they wouldn't like. A Slytheryn. No, it wouldn't be one of them. Slytherins were all Muggle-born hating, pure-blooded maniac scums. None of them would even remotely consider Hermione. Hmm. It could even be a teacher. But who? The only one young enough would be Regis Niemi, however, compared to them, he was too old. Then, it could be a girl. Naw, Hermione being a lesbian? That's a definite no. The boyfriend idea seemed like a good one, but he couldn't imagine who the boyfriend could be. He would have to be someone in school, because otherwise she couldn't meet him.

Boyfriends and meetings brought Isabelle into his mind. She was still feeding a bird, whispering softly to it. It seemed much calmer than Harry's. He watched as her pale, delicate hands moved and remembered what it was like touching the soft skin. He hoped that they could still meet in Hogsmeade. He couldn't wait. He would have taken her to the Three Broomsticks, if it was possible, and talked with her above a butterbeer. After that, they could have had a look at the goods of the local shops, walking hand-in-hand. If only her last name wasn't 'Malfoy'. They could be friends in the open. He wasn't really doing much good imagining things that could never be. Maybe when they were seventeen, they could come out into the open about their feelings. That was when he remembered what she had said. If Lucius Malfoy had his way, she would probably be married by the start of the next term and when he said goodbye to her in June, it would be forever. He had to do something about that, he knew. But how? He, himself was only fifteen. Maybe no one would want to marry Isabelle, because of her 'strange' ideas. He hoped anyway. However, the lure of belonging to the Malfoy family would be too great for other Death Eaters. Maybe Isabelle didn't even want his help. His thoughts had taken him so far away from his task, that looking down, he realised that the bird was suffocating in his hands. He quickly released it, but too much. It quickly spread its wings and flew away, probably escaping from his clumsy captor. Harry looked after it, feeling like a complete idiot and quickly looked around to see if anyone had noticed. That was when all the birds started to give out a strange sound. It was a low crying, haunting and painful to his ears. They all clasped their hands to their ears and Hagrid motioned for them to go. They ran inside the castle and then broke up into groups.

"Well, it seems like it's going to rain. Hope not tomorrow," Hermione told Ron and Harry.

"Rain?" the two boys stared at her.

"Yes," she replied, " when Augureys start to cry like that, it means that it's going to rain," she rolled her eyes at them, as this had been said at the beginning of the lesson.

"Well, let's just hope that it won't rain when we go to Hogsmeade or on the day of our match with Slytherin," Harry said and they all nodded, agreeing with him.

By evening that day, it was raining, but luckily it stopped as the sun rose and they were all relieved.

At the breakfast table the Auguerys' wailing was the topic. Some talked about how their classes were cancelled and others told stories about having a bird like that at home. As Harry entered the Great Hall, he saw Hermione and Ron sitting next to Angelina. When he joined them, he noticed how brightly the older girl smiled.

"Good morning Angelina! What's with the big smile?"

"I'm 18!" she happily informed him.

"That's great! Happy birthday. Did you get your presents yet?"

"No, not yet. Can't wait till the owls get here!" she exclaimed excitedly.

As if on cue, the room started to fill with the sound of wings flapping in the air. Mail had arrived. Several birds flew straight to Angelina, most of them dropping packages behind her on the floor. She smiled brightly and clearly had a difficult time deciding where to start. Harry counted nine presents all together. Finally, she chose the smallest one and picking it up, put the package next to her plate.

"There's no card!" she noted.

"Maybe it got lost on the way," Ron said.

Angelina shrugged and tore off the green wrapper. Inside she found a wooden box with various Celtic designs spread all over it. On the top there was a great Celtic-style lion lying in a neat frame. It looked very beautiful, shining in the light streaming through the windows. Everyone who could see it stared in amazement at the simple beauty. Angelina looked delighted and she quickly opened it. That was when people screamed. As the lid rose up, a yellow mist drifted from the inside, threatening to engulf everyone. Hermione, Ron and Harry jumped up, backing away, and so did the other Gryffindors, but Angelina wasn't so lucky. She inhaled some of the vapour and in a split second, she was lying on the floor. The teachers quickly noticed what was happening and they hurried to the table. Dumbledore took his wand out from among the folds of his robe and murmuring a spell, made the mist disappear. Madam Pomfrey was also having breakfast at the time and she was at Angelina's side in a minute.

"She's unconscious," the mediwitch reported.

Most of the room, except for the Slytherins, was trying to see what had happened. The nurse levitated Angelina's body and disappeared through the doors. Dumbledore took the box for inspection. Angelina's other presents lay discarded on the floor solemn reminders that it should had been a happy day. Only Hermione remembered to gather them for the poor girl and with the help of the boys, they took everything to her bed. They learned the sad news some time later. Angelina was in a coma and no one knew for how long. Dumbledore hoped that with the careful examination of the potion inside the box they would be able to figure out what to do, but that took time.

Days passed without any result and Harry had other things to think about, frankly, even though he was worried about his friend, he could hardly concentrate on that matter. All he could think about was October 28th, when they would go to Hogsmeade. The date arrived at a snail-pace for Harry. Each day the hours seemed to take twice as long. He often found himself looking at his beautiful pocket-watch for many minutes, willing the big hand to move faster. He desperately tried to occupy himself with something. He wrote all his homework ahead of schedule and this please Hermione very much. Harry hadn't forgotten to watch the bushy-haired girl either. However, she had disappeared less those days and seemed to be as preoccupied with time as he was, He caught her watching the clock in the Common Room with a similar expression as probably he himself had. Another common thing about them was the way their minds kept wondering away during a conversation, for they both had to ask more than once what the other had said. This proved to be funny in situations when it was the two of them talking. Once when they realised that neither of them knew what the subject was, they shared a questioning glance, but didn't voice their thoughts. Harry didn't, because he feared that he would be asked back and suspected that Hermione was in an equal position.

Besides his studies, Quidditch was also a welcome distraction. He drilled his team feverishly, having the upcoming match with Slytherin and Angelina's absence as an excuse. He decided not to name the replacement for her position until a day before the match. Instead, all three people capable of standing in practised. His heart said that Ron should play, but he wanted to be objective. However, he could be happy about the fact that Ron indeed got a new broom. It was a Nimbus 2000, not a brand new broom model, but a great one anyway. He became more aware of his duties as captain with each practice, he had read through the handbook, but being out in the field was still a bit different. It was a good thing that the team was so close-knit that they needed little instructing and could help with the stand-ins. With the team of new-comers it was rather different and it was with them that Harry really got to utilise his newly acquired skills. He began to forge a team out of them as well, but this was made harder by the fact that the three Chasers were all trying to best the other in order to be in the match with Slytherin. During those moments he really wished that they would find a cure for Angelina's state.

When the team was finished, he got to do some private practicing all by himself. He let the Snitch go and after some waiting, went in search of it. He marvelled at the ease with which he managed to catch it again and again. His mind had very much forgotten what his body hadn't. His legs directed the broom during the chase on autopilot as his hands grasped the little golden ball by instinct. It was during a rainstorm that he truly began to appreciate Hermione's gift. He still remembered the game during which it poured in his third year. The raindrops turned his glasses into a prism, making him see an uncountable number of everything. Not to mention the pain in his eyes and head. This time it was different. The water just vanished from the glass, not marring his vision for a minute. Upon realising this, he did a happy loop. He soared into the air, pushing his Firebolt to the limit and with a quick jerk, he made a circle around his own head. In the air he felt free and careless. No wonder his Aunt Oya always started the day like that. He briefly wondered if he could become an Animagus as well. However, for now he revelled in the fact that the imperfection of his vision no longer meant a handicap for him.

The oddest thing about this period until the Hogsmeade meeting was that he no longer waited happily for his nightly encounters with Isabelle. In fact, he dreaded them. It wasn't because he didn't want to see her anymore. In fact, hearing the music of her voice grew more vital to him every day. He truly felt that he could not live without it. The cause of his fear was that any of those nights she might tell him that they couldn't meet in the cave. However, this never happened.

* * *

On D-day the colourful glory of the rising Sun-god found Harry watching him from the windowsill. The rays stretched out on the sky interrupted by only a few clouds. The brightness flooded the ground, waking the world up. The few birds that still remained welcomed the morning with a cheerful chorus. A less friendly choir could be heard coming from the Forbidden Forest. As Harry looked in that direction, he saw a huge figure flying towards him above the woods. He opened the window as it clearly headed towards him. It was a great owl, an eagle owl. He recognized the species by the distinct, long, ear-like things on his head. He didn't really know what they were, but he knew that much about owls. Otherwise, these owls looked the same compared to the other kinds, except for the size. Eagle owls were the largest owls he had ever seen. He couldn't recall anyone owning such a creature, except for the Malfoys. As it landed next to him on the windowsill and raised its leg, Harry hoped that it wasn't from Isabelle, cancelling their date. He sighed in relief when he saw the familiar handwriting of his godfather. He stood up to get an owl treat, but the great bird spread its huge wings and gracefully rose into the air. Harry closed the window after it and sat back down.

He looked at the piece of paper in his hand. It was funny that Sirius should write on that day, just as he was going to take Isabelle to the cave his godfather had occupied last year. He opened the letter and read it wondering what he had written and where he had got the owl.

Dear Harry,

I'm writing to let you know that I'm safe and well. I'm eating a lot and not spending my days only with my big companion. He's good too, by the way. Oh, the bird that takes this to you is an old friend, don't be scared if it's a bit threatening in manner.

Your new friend, the girl we've talked about, puzzles me a bit. She's too unlike her family. She's not the first, but in spite of good intentions, she could mean trouble. Please, be careful in your relationship with her. She's surrounded by dangerous people.

Say hello to your aunt for me and tell her; I'm glad she's back. I never stopped worrying about her. I trust her now and you should as well.

Snuffles

Harry was glad that Sirius was all right. He wondered who could be with him, but was certain that Dumbledore had arranged something. He was surprised by his reference to Oya. He was convinced now that she was on the side of the light. In the meantime, he also cared for her. Harry briefly considered if Sirius knew about Oya's son. Probably yes. It couldn't have been a really big secret. It can't be easy to hide something like that.

He reread the passage about Isabelle. Maybe he could get into trouble, especially if Lucius Malfoy learned of their secret. However, he could never break bonds with her. That much he knew. Even though his feelings scared him. Still, he had never felt more alive or determined. Besides, if Lucius Malfoy did discover that he was Isabelle's friend, it couldn't possibly make things worse. Only for Isabelle. She had said that her father could even kill her. Harry couldn't imagine how someone could be so evil to hurt their own children. Then again, the head of the Malfoy family already had.

His trail of thought was broken by a movement from Ron's bed. He looked over to see the red-head swing his legs out from among the bed curtains. Then his head appeared and he blinked sleepily at Harry. When it registered whom he was seeing, he smiled a bit.

"Good morning, Harry!" He looked over at the huge grandfather clock that stood in their room and blinked a bit, probably not believing his eyes. "What ya doing up so early?" He stifled a yawn and stretched.

"Ron, the others are still sleeping," Harry whispered as he went to his friend and sat down beside him so that they could talk as quietly as possible.

"Oh, ok," Ron whispered back.

"To answer your question, I woke up very early, because I can't wait to go to Hogsmeade."

"Harry, I can't go with you," his friend confessed to Harry.

"Why not?" the green-eyed boy masked his relief with puzzlement.

"I ...," he reddened and his face was like a tomato, "I have a date."

"Really? Who's the girl?" Harry was excited.

"Hmm. Not telling," Ron smiled mischievously.

"Why not?" he smiled back. He seemed to be asking that question a lot that day.

"Promised. Besides, it's more fun this way. .... What will you do, Harry?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Don't know yet," he lied. "Probably something with Hermione."

"Oh, she hadn't told you?" Ron said with surprise.

"Who? Hermione? What?" Harry's mind briefly wondered to Isabelle and for a moment he forgot whom they had been talking about.

"Yes, Hermione. She told me last night while you were practising wandless magic with your aunt, that she had some appointment in Hogsmeade and couldn't go with us. I tried to grill out of her what, but she wouldn't tell me."

Harry tried to keep from grinning at the prospect of not having to explain himself. His friends would be busy and he would be free to spend all his time with Isabelle.

"Well, guess I'll have to wonder around all by myself." He pretended to be sad.

"I'm sorry." Ron Seemed really like it. "Maybe I could cancel."

Harry had obviously played the sad boy all too well.

"Na, you go on that date. I'll be fine. Really," he hastened to assure his friend.

"If you really think so..."

"I do. I'll get some money from the bank and perhaps look around for a Christmas present for both of you," he tried to relax his friend.

"Ok, get me something about Quidditch. However, the best you could get me is a sentence. 'You're going to play against Slytherin.' In fact, I wouldn't need another present for ... years."

"You know that I'll announce that later. All I can say is that you have a pretty good chance. Are you sure that you want something about Quidditch? I thought that after all the training I've been giving you, you wouldn't be able to even think about that game." Harry grinned.

"Me? Not think about Quidditch? Never!" Ron was so loud that time that Neville could be heard stirring in his bed. "Harry, it's still early. What if we rest a bit more?" He yawned.

"All right." Harry joined him in yawning. Both boys laid back in their beds. Ron was snoring fast enough, but Harry didn't sleep.

Perhaps he would have taken some of the sleeping potion, but he had run out of it last night and forgot to get some. In spite of this he did manage to sleep a little last night. Luckily, he didn't dream about Voldemort, but Isabelle. It was the strangest, yet most relaxing vision. He saw her lying in one of the beds in the hospital wing. Unlike the last time he met her there, she didn't seem to be hurt. She did look tired and sweaty, but she was smiling in a way Harry had never seen her. That was when he realised; she was holding something in her arms. It was a blanket. He sat down on the bed beside her and got a good look at what was inside the bundle. A baby. He only saw its face, wrinkled and quite ugly, still, he was certain the child was his. It was reinforced by the fact that the little boy, judging by the blue colour of his blanket he was a boy, stared at him with emerald green eyes that matched his own. Isabelle handed him to Harry and sliding his arms under the small boy, he took him. His heart expanded, skipped a beat and did all sorts of things that he had never felt. At that moment he knew, he would do anything for his son.

That was when he woke up. He didn't know why and wished he hadn't. He shed a tear. He could still feel the love that had spread in him, but the boy was gone, he had stayed in dreamworld.

At that moment, lying in his bed after having talked to Ron, he couldn't stop himself from thinking back to his dream-son. He saw the baby's face in front of him, he felt the love he had experienced. However, it wasn't a happy thing, just like when he woke up. In the reality of the day Harry still missed him. It hurt. He decided not to get more potion. He hoped that maybe he would dream more of his son. He wondered if it would ever come true. To his own surprise, the thought of him and Isabelle having a son didn't scare him at all as he supposed it should have. A fifteen-year-old boy should have been scared of becoming a father, the responsibility it meant and everything connected to it. However, Harry knew, he had long ceased being just a boy. He had witnessed and gone through more than most adults. The prospect of a family of his own filled his heart with joy instead. While daydreaming like that he did slip unnoticed into some light slumber. When he woke up, others were already preparing. He noted with sadness that he didn't dream about his son again. Shaking off his feelings, he quickly got up, showered, brushed his teeth and dressed. On his way out, he picked the vial the potion had been in and headed for the Hospital Room to return it to Madam Pomfrey. Upon reaching the door, he knocked. No one answered, so after some waiting, he decided to take action. He slowly, quietly opened the door and that was when he noticed sounds coming from her office. Harry looked at the bed on which Angelina was lying. She was as still as stone, just like those who were once attacked by a Basilisk. He hoped that her status would be as temporary, as it was to the victims of the huge snake. He crept closer to Madam Pomfrey's office and listened to the conversation that was going on inside. These past years, and especially during this year, he learned that it was very useful for him to eavesdrop. Perhaps this way he could prevent some of the tragedies that are bound to happen that year. So first he determined who were speaking. It was Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey.

"Dumbledore, I really can't sleep at night knowing what that monster will do once she's back with him," she was pleading.

"We can't do anything," his voice held sorrow.

"But why not?!"

"This isn't the Muggle world of your mother, Poppy! Here fathers rule over their families," Dumbledore reminded her.

"So they can do anything to their daughters?! Even that?!" she was screaming with anger.

"Anything." Dumbledore's voice was cold.

"I can't believe this. Is there really nothing..." Madam Pomfrey's voice choked.

"I'm sorry," he was genuinely feeling that way, Harry knew from the way he said it. "Bye Poppy!"

Harry could hear Dumbledore heading towards him, so he quickly went towards the door, then turned, as if he had just come in.

"Hello Harry!" was all Dumbledore said.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," came the reply.

Harry went to Madam Pomfrey and gave her the bottle after exchanging greetings.

"Do you need more?" she asked.

"No, I Think I'll be fine."

"Good," was all she said and he quickly left, wondering if they had been talking about who he thought. He went straight to the Great Hall and looked around. He couldn't see Ron nor Hermione anywhere. They must have eaten in a hurry and gone off to Hogsmeade. Harry shoved down his own food, keeping an eye out for Isabelle, who was also not in the room. That was when he remembered that he had left his invisibility cloak upstairs. He ran back for it still chewing on the last bite. They were supposed to meet in the Entrance Hall, with him under the cloak so he could guide her to Sirius' cave, where they would spend the day hidden from other people. Especially one called Draco Malfoy. Strangely, he couldn't just think of him as 'Malfoy' anymore. Perhaps because in the past that family name meant one with malice, evil and all things bad. Not anymore. Isabelle was Malfoy as well. He realized that he had learned a valuable lesson; you can't judge people by their families of course, Snape would do well with that lesson as well. He threw the cloak onto himself in an empty classroom, and carefully made his way towards the meeting spot, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. Isabelle stood waiting for him just next to the twin doors that lead outside. She was looking around passively, but her hands fidgeted as they held a basket. Harry wondered what could be in it. He crept closer to her and whispered into her ear.

"I'm here. Go outside and into town. I'll give you more directions, once we're there."

Without even so much as a nod, she started towards the doors. Harry managed to direct her to the cave without any problem. While in the town, he kept an eye out for Hermione and Ron, but saw no sign of them. They entered the cave and once inside, Harry took off his cloak.

"That's a very useful piece of clothing you have there Harry," Isabelle smiled at him.

"Yeah. Used to be my father's:"

"I know, you've told me. It played a role in many of your adventures," with these words she took out a small napkin from her pocket that she put down on the floor. Once there, it quickly started to grow until it was big enough for two people. Harry stared a little, but by this time he had grown used to the unexpected. They both settled down on it and Isabelle opened the basket to reveal two bottles of pumpkin juice, some fudge and many more sorts of food.

"How did you get all this?" Harry smiled.

"Well, every morning Dobby appears in front of me and asks, how he could help. I usually give him some small task so that he can feel useful. This morning I wanted to know how I could get some food for us and he showed me where the kitchen was. All this was prepared by the elves there."

"You're very thoughtful," he said.

"It was really all their doing." She swallowed a bit of fudge.

For a few minutes they both ate quietly, just enjoying the other's silent company. Harry was doing one of his favourite activities as of recently; he was watching her. She noticed and blushing slightly, looked down on her food.

"So, what should we do?" she spoke up.

"Frankly, I haven't really thought about it. However, there is something I've been wanting to ask you. Will you really have to get married at sixteen?" he asked shyly.

"Yes. In fact, I've been wanting to tell you something, but didn't know how to break the news." She stared down in front of her for a while, clearly contemplating how to go on. When she spoke, she did it slowly, clearly holding back her pain. "Father has written me. He said that he had chosen someone for me and I'll meet him during the Christmas break," she informed him.

"Are you sure you'll have to marry him?" Harry asked quickly, hoping that the answer would be a 'no'.

"Yes, Harry. Father said that the wedding is going to be in July."

Harry just stared at her, dumbfounded. She would be married next year. Some man would take her to be his forever and he... He realized that it was time to admit it to himself. He would loose her, his love. Nothing had ever hurt so much before. Even breathing seemed to be hard and the whole world just stopped. She was looking at him then, with a pain in her dark eyes that seemed to match his own. Suddenly it all started pouring out of him.

"ISABELLE, please don't! Do something to prevent it!" he was almost screaming at her, scaring her a little.

"Harry, I can't," her slow words chocked," I am only a girl." She looked down, defeated.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to make her stay with him forever. Finally, he succumbed to the urge that had been present whenever he just looked at her. He moved close to her and touching her chin, he tilted her head upwards, in the perfect position to kiss her. As his lips descended on hers, he saw her eyes close, full of tears. First it was just two closed lips on each other, but then Harry gave into his instincts and the kiss became a real one. As tongue met tongue, her arms slowly crept to rest on his shoulders, holding Harry to her. He could still feel Isabelle crying. He wanted to prolong the moment, to stretch it into eternity. He wished he knew a spell to freeze time, so that it would be October 28th always. Then she began to push him off and reluctantly he stopped. Only then did he notice that he was laying half on top of her and also the painful throb in his groin. He looked into her face, but could read nothing of it, his own emotions were too much in the way. However, he couldn't shut out the sound of footsteps coming from outside. She heard it as well, for she was intently staring at the mouth of the cave.

To be continued...