Chapter 1

Harry Potter could no longer combat the overwhelming temptation to stop writing. He had been scrawling on this bit of parchment all day trying to force out an essay on "The Miracles of Dingleweed" for Herbology. The trouble was, Harry could not find anything miraculous about dingleweed, which apparently gave muggles the ability to perform one magical spell for a period of twelve minutes. As soon as he'd get around to finding what might be one positive aspect of the plant, Harry could picture Uncle Vernon performing some unspeakable curse upon him as he ran from the neatly-kept lawn of number four, Privet Drive. Harry shook the ugly thought from his head and stuffed the parchment into his sack, hoping sometime before Thursday's Herbology lesson someone would invent a spell that would make homework complete itself. For possibly the millionth time that evening, he looked around the Gryffindor common room for a happy distraction from the weight of sixth year stress. Rising from the lazy chair that boldly displayed the house colors (a deep crimson and golden-yellow), he approached a pair of second years playing wizard chess. One was clearly dominating the other, judging by the pile of smashed marble accumulated in the corner of the chessboard. Harry leaned over the shoulder of the frustrated boy with horned-rimmed glasses and said, "Knight to E5." As he walked out of the portal he heard the excited cheer of the boy and the respective groan of the other as the knight smashed his queen to pieces.

Relieved to have escaped from his school work, Harry traveled out of the Gryffindor tower to find Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, or anyone else who might give him a source of entertainment. Gripping the banister of a changing stairway, Harry caught a glimpse of Luna Lovegood. His initial reaction was to hide behind the pillar at the bottom of the staircase to avoid any baffling words she might direct his way, but changed his mind when he remembered a conversation from the end of last year. Harry had approached Luna while she was posting flyers asking for the return of her stolen items—a cruel trick played on her by the members of her house. Harry had known that everyone thought of her as odd, but he had not imagined his fellow schoolmates would torment her for her quirks. He also recalled with great remorse the conclusion of their conversation in which he discovered a painful commonality between the two of them—the loss of a parent. Thinking of how calmly Luna had spoken of her mother's death and the empathy he had felt for her made him call out.

"Luna!" Harry was surprised at the slight desperation he heard in his own voice. "Ey, Luna, wait up a minute!"

Luna turned to him then, and he was once again startled. Harry had almost forgotten the whimsical look she always had—wide eyed, lips slightly parted. Her long hair flowed about her shoulders and arms, with a few strays floating in the air above her. When she spoke it was with a distracted, far-off voice.

"Oh hello Harry. I was just…." She broke eye-contact with him and turned her head upward to search the ceiling, as if hoping to find there whatever it was she had just been doing. "wondering."

Harry was not quite sure how to respond. 'I was just wondering' seemed to him to be the beginning of some clarifying question one might ask at the end of a class where—no! He had to stop thinking of schoolwork and clearly Luna was not helping him achieve that end.

"Oh, well, then I won't bother you. I was just, uh, going to ask how your summer was and all that, but if you're in the middle of something, er, I'll just go." Harry rambled on trying to figure out a way to end the conversation he had only a few moments ago initiated. Luna looked at him with her unchanging expression of fascination and smiled slightly.

"Good luck then, finding your friends. I believe they are in the dining hall." With a small wave Luna seemingly floated up a staircase and left Harry marveling at her peculiarity. Dismissing his own confusion, he rushed off to the dining hall to finally be fully distracted from his responsibilities.

Harry found his best friends seated at the center of the Gryffindor table surrounded by several other sixth years. Seamus Finnegan was unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a fit of laughter and Neville Longbottom was standing behind Hermione with a disturbed look on his face. Two or three seats away, Lavender Brown and the Patel twins were giggling and looking on. As Harry approached, Ron looked up at him with a face that begged Save me! and quickly stood up to call him over.

"Hallo, Harry!" Ron called out in a rather exaggerated manner. "We were just having a bit of a conversation over here…uh—"

"More like a bit of a spat!" Seamus gasped, spawning laughter from the Lavender and the other girls. "Maybe Harry can help you out Ron! Hermione was just saying that Ron'd be a lot better looking if cut his hair and cleaned his fingernails a bit more often."

"Oh please, Seamus." Hermione spoke for the first time. "That is a complete distortion of my statement. Harry, I was just explaining to Ron the merits of pride in personal appearance." Her voice was matter-of-fact and as soon as she was done correcting the enormous distortion made by Seamus she picked up a book on Muggle Studies. Hermione seemed to be the only one at the table who did not find this conversation the least bit interesting.

"Yeah, well I don't remember you ever using the word 'merit,' and in any case, Harry," Seamus replied, reverting back to his smug I'm-repeating-a-funny-story-at-Ron's-expense voice "then Ron goes 'well why do you care so much about how I look anyway!' Ha! Then—"

"Seamus!" Hermione interrupted in a manner that commanded attention. "Two things; first off, you are repeating (rather inaccurately) a conversation the majority of those in the dining hall heard only minutes ago. Secondly, I am trying to prepare for my first Muggle Studies examination of the year and your obnoxious voice is making it nearly impossible!"

Harry smiled at her earnestness as she dramatically closed her textbook and willed Seamus to leave with a penetrating look. He ambled off with Neville, mumbling to himself about 'uptight…witch…boring story anyway' and sat halfway down the table. Harry took a seat next to Ron who was looking wide-eyed and humiliated and laughed. Hermione gave him a warning glance and offered him a cookie from her snack plate.

"Well, we've managed to make it through our first week of sixth year without too many problems," said Hermione with satisfaction. "Although I already have three examinations scheduled for next week and—"

"Hermione please! I came down here to escape thinking of schoolwork! If I wanted to think about class I'd be in the library with all the Ravenclaws! Let's talk about something that interests us all. Like, can you believe the Quidditch World Cup this year?!" Harry glanced at Hermione to see if she had caught on to his little joke.

"Don't bother Harry," Ron said glumly. "I already mentioned the World Cup. She'll talk about school or she'll talk about nothing."

"It was a joke Ron. Now, on a topic that interests us all..." Hermione glanced around quickly and leaned into the boys, lowering her voice to a sharp whisper. "I overheard Malfoy talking about You-Know-Who in Advanced Potions…"

Harry was anxious as he and Ron left the dining hall. Hermione had not overheard much, but even the smallest detail could be of importance to the Order of the Phoenix. If Malfoy was telling the truth (a doubtful possibility, but one that must be accounted for considering the conditions under which the Order was operating), Voldemort had already begun gathering his Death Eaters at a location only kilometers away from Grimmauld Place. Harry and his friends recognized that if they had uncovered this fact it was more than likely that the Order already possessed this knowledge, but the three did not want to take any chances. Harry glanced at Ron, who kept loosening and tightening his tie. His eyes were downcast and his hands were shaking slightly. Harry could guess what was troubling his best friend. A great portion of Ron's family had committed themselves to the Order and Hermione's news must have been disturbing for him. Harry understood—Voldemort's proximity to Grimmauld Place interested him too. If the Dark Lord was indeed nearby, so also would be Belatrix Lestrange. Finding the dark witch was more important to Harry than he could verbalize. He wanted nothing more than to bring justice to the murder of his godfather, Sirius Black. As the pair approached the door to the Gryffindor Tower, Ron looked at Harry for the first time.

"Harry… do you reckon I ought to tell Ginny?" Ron didn't try to disguise his concern. He turned to the Fat Lady and dismally gave her the password. "Petricus Metriculus."

The portal swung open slowly and the boys entered. Harry mulled over Ron's question. On the one hand, Ginny was Ron's sister and had just as much a right to know whether or not her family was in immediate danger. On the other hand, Hermione had only deduced this idea from a few elusive statements made by Draco Malfoy. For all they knew, Malfoy could be setting them up somehow…

"Not just yet, I think Ron." Harry finally replied. "I really think we ought to talk to your parents before, you know, just to see what's what… if that makes any sense at all."

"Yeah." Ron seemed much too exhausted to climb the stairs to the boys' dormitory. "Shove over midgets, I'm a prefect." He flopped down on a couch previously occupied by two bewildered-looking first years. He looked anxiously at the door then stared off into the fire.

"Are you coming to bed?" Harry inquired, although he already knew the answer. Ron was thinking deeply and several stress wrinkles had appeared on his forehead where Harry had never seen before. He paused for several additional moments, then turned to go to upstairs.

"No, not yet. I think I'll wait up for Hermione," Ron had the look of someone who was lost in a familiar place. Harry smiled in spite of himself, amused at Ron's ability to portray every emotion very accurately with facial expressions. Ron suddenly spoke up. "Would you wait with me? I mean, I don't want anyone to think that I'm you know…waiting up for her or anything."

"Yeah, sure." Harry was somewhat taken aback by this request—it had never seemed to matter in the past. The first years picked up their belongings and left to their respective dormitories leaving room for Harry to sprawl out on the other side of the couch. For some time the two remained relatively quiet, exchanging occasional words about quidditch practice, Seamus's new girlfriend, and other topics that were not as dark as Voldermort or Belatrix Lestrange. At nearly midnight, Hermione stumbled into the common room with a load of books. Her face looked oddly startled, as though she had just seen something completely out of the ordinary. When she saw the boys she made a weak attempt to appear unperturbed.

"Hi Harry. Hi Ron. You guys are still up? You know it's rather late. You—well we really should get to bed." She laughed nervously and began walking toward the stairway leading the girls' dormitory.

"Hold on Hermione, "Harry said with an edge of suspicion. "We've been waiting up for you. Besides it's a Friday and there are no classes to worry about tomorrow. Why don't you come over here and sit for awhile?"

Hermione seemed to consider his proposition for a moment, and then glanced longingly at the stairwell as though looking at an escape from a humiliating situation. She then walked toward Ron and Harry and indeed she had a slight blush to her cheeks. Seating herself in a chair adjacent to the couch where her friends sat so they could only see her profile, Hermione joined the two with a heavy sigh.

"What Hermione?" Ron cried with exasperation. He was not particularly gifted at deciphering the emotions of those less transparent than himself.

"It's just that…" Hermione seemed to be grasping for the right words to convey her thoughts. "I just ran into Malfoy outside and…and…it seemed that he might have been… I don't know. Er, never mind. What—why were you waiting up for me?"

"You can't just start a conversation like that and then switch the topic because you don't want to talk about it! Come out with it! Did Malfoy say something to you about Voldemort?" Harry was trying to solve the mystery that was Hermione. Somehow, though, he knew Hermione's confusion had little to do with the Dark Lord. At that moment Lavender and Pavarti burst through the door of the tower giggling furiously.

"Hermione! What was that outside?!" Lavender rushed over to Hermione, barely able to control her excitement.

"Wait!" Pavarti exclaimed, throwing an obvious nod in the direction of Ron and Harry. "Boys, don't you think it's getting kind of late?"

"Why is everyone suddenly so concerned with our bedtimes?!" Ron cried out, clearly fed up with the strange behavior of the Gryffindor girls. "Hey I know when I'm not wanted! Harry?"

Harry nodded and followed Ron up the steps to the boys' dormitory baffled and stressed. That night he dreamt Luna Lovegood was engaged to Draco Malfoy and was planning their wedding in the Gryffindor common room.