Chapter 9 – Enemy Camp

Despite the lateness of the hour Dumbledore was awake when Harry knocked on his door. He listened attentively as Harry described his dream in as much detail as he could. He didn't ask a single question until Harry was finished.

"Can you draw me the symbols on the front?"

Harry took the offered parchment and quill and paused. He closed his eyes and tried to bring the memory of the book cover to the forefront of his mind. Once he had drawn the Runes as well as he could he handed back the parchment. Dumbledore studied it carefully.

"I do not recognise these Runes," he said, standing and moving to his bookshelf. "You say there was a phoenix on the cover?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I don't understand that. Shouldn't it be a snake or something? I mean it's got to be a book of dark magic, right? And phoenixes are light creatures."

"The phoenix has long been a symbol of the light, true," Dumbledore agreed as he sat down with a large book in his hand. "Many cultures have also used them to represent eternity or immortality because when they die they are reborn from the ashes. I believe it is in that context that the phoenix was used on the cover of the book you saw."

"So you think Voldemort is looking for another way to become immortal?" Harry asked worriedly.

"He has a great fear of death," Dumbledore said as he leafed through the book. "Ah, here we are. It is not an identical match, but the Rune for immortality is very like the first symbol you drew here. Are you sure this is exactly what you saw?"

"Not completely," Harry admitted. "Lestrange did say they were really old and he didn't recognise them." An idea struck him then. "I could put the memory in the pensieve for you."

"An excellent idea," Dumbledore agreed and conjured a small vial for Harry to place the memory in. Harry concentrated on his dream, specifically the image of the book and removed the silvery stream of memory with his wand.

Harry frowned slightly. "You don't forget the memory when you place it in the pensieve," he said slowly. "So it's not the memory itself, but a copy or something."

"Well done," Dumbledore said sagely. "The pensieve is merely a way of viewing the memories again, from a different perspective. And now I think it is time for you to get back to bed." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a vial of blue potion. "Dreamless sleep."

Harry reached out and took it. "Thanks sir." As he left the room he could see Dumbledore still poring over the book. Somehow he doubted the Headmaster was going to get much sleep that night.

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That Saturday the Gryffindors held Quidditch tryouts. Fortunately the only ones that knew Harry was now Captain were Katie, Ron and Hermione and so everyone who turned up really was interested in being on the team. As Katie was the only Chaser left from last year Harry had to find two new ones as well as two Beaters.

Surprisingly Ginny Weasley turned up to try out for Chaser. Given the fact that she still hadn't spoken to Harry since the start of term Harry was reluctant to put her on the team, but once he saw her fly he knew he would have a hard job finding someone better so she got one of the free slots along with Demelza Robins. Ginny actually smiled at him when Harry announced the decision, giving him hope that they could work together after all. He chose Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes as Beaters. While they would never be as good as Fred and George he hoped they would learn to work well together.

During tryouts Ron and Hermione sat in the stands. At first Harry assumed they were watching closely – Ron at least needed to pay attention to the selection of his new team mates – but it quickly became obvious to him that he was more interested in watching Hermione studying, while she appeared to be struggling to keep her attention on her books. Harry hid a grin and turned back to the tryouts.

Once the team was selected they trudged back to the school for lunch. There was an expectant hush in the Great Hall and Harry paused, almost expecting everyone to turn and look at him as they usually did when something happened, but the attention of the students was on Dumbledore, who sat calmly at the Head table talking to Professor Flitwick.

"What's going on?" Ron asked Neville as they sat at the Gryffindor table.

"Dumbledore's making some kind of announcement after lunch," he told them. "No one knows what it's about."

Harry quickly piled food on his plate. He'd worked up quite an appetite during tryouts, especially as he'd been unable to eat breakfast due to nerves. Ron did the same even though he'd spent the whole time in the stands.

"I wonder what it's about," Hermione said as she grabbed a couple of sandwiches. "I hope nothing's happened."

"Can't be," said Harry. "He wouldn't hold us all in suspense like this if it was something bad."

A few minutes later Dumbledore stood up. The Hall was already so quiet that he started speaking right away.

"After long deliberations it has been decided that a life imprisoned in this castle is not what we want for the students of this school," he began. "Therefore Hogsmeade weekends will still occur for all students above third year." Nearly the whole school cheered at that. "To maximise your safety you will not be given notice of these excursions, nor will we allow you the whole day as we have in the past."

"At least we get to go," Ron said happily.

"As soon as you have finished eating, those of you who wish to visit Hogsmeade today can make your way to the Entrance Hall."

Harry joined the rest of the school in their applause. Many people stood right up and made their way outside, but Harry, Ron and Hermione finished their lunch before joining them.

"It's strange they're letting us go this early in the year," said Ron. "Normally we can't go until Halloween."

"That's probably why they're doing it," Harry pointed out. "They want it to be unexpected so the Death Eaters won't know to turn up." Hermione nodded her agreement.

"Good point," said Ron.

Harry was feeling a bit nervous as he neared the front of the queue of excitedly chattering students. He didn't know if he was allowed to leave the safety of the castle for something as unimportant as a Hogsmeade village, especially after the fuss there had been about his going to Diagon Alley. Filch was checking each student's name against his list before scanning them with secrecy detectors. Despite his fears Filch let him pass with nothing more than a glare.

He felt strangely free as he passed through the school gates with Ron and Hermione. He didn't know if anyone was following him, but he suspected it; there was no way Dumbledore would allow him to go outside of the school unescorted.

As they entered the village they passed Zonko's, which was boarded up. Harry felt his stomach clench at the sight, another store had gone out of business now the war was heating up. He only hoped Zonko hadn't been killed.

In the window there was a sign reading:

COMING SOON: WEASLEY'S WIZARDING WHEEZES

"What?" Ron said in disbelief. "They never said anything about opening a shop in Hogsmeade."

"That's because we only just bought it, little bro," Fred Weasley said, stepping around the corner. "Come on, you three. George is round back. We're tidying out the stock room."

"Why would we want to help with that?" Ron demanded. "We've only got this afternoon to visit the village."

Fred rolled his eyes. "If you help us we'll let you keep whatever you want."

"I'm in," said Ron.

Hermione was frowning. "I don't know. I really want to go to Dervish and Banges and I suspect you'll want to buy out Honeydukes, Ron."

"We can do that later," Ron argued, looking at her pleadingly. "We'll just help out for an hour or so."

"That's the spirit," Fred said and dragged Ron around the back. Harry and Hermione followed at a slower pace.

The stock room was a badly lit mess of boxes and discarded prank products. In the centre of all that stood George, beaming at them happily. Hermione picked up an object that looked something like an earring. "What's this do?"

Fred took it from her hand. "It clips on your ears and then stretches them out," he said, demonstrating. Sure enough his earlobe drooped, extending past his shoulder.

Hermione shuddered. "There are tribes in Africa where the women do that to themselves permanently. I think it's supposed to be a sign of fertility."

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," George said. "How do you know such things?"

"And why would you want to?" Fred added.

"Let's get to work, boys and girl," said George before Hermione could answer.

Harry grabbed a bag and spent most of the next fifty minutes picking up things that looked broken or used while Fred, George and Ron lugged boxes outside to go through them in the light. Hermione had found a pile of paperwork on a desk and was flipping through it, placing anything she thought was important in a stack where Fred and George could go through it later and throwing the rest into a box to be destroyed.

Ron came in for another box. "How come you two get the easy jobs?"

"You're welcome to go through these sales figures if you want," Hermione said with a glare. "But I thought you wanted to go through the boxes for loot."

"Yeah... well," Ron spluttered. He piled three boxes one atop the other.

"I don't think you should try and lift that many," Hermione lectured. "And don't think you can use magic either, we're not in school right now."

"I can handle it," said Ron defensively. He bent and lifted the boxes.

"From the knees, Ron," Hermione said.

Ron straightened, the boxes in his arms. He grunted. "I've got it."

As he walked back towards the door he slipped on a loose prank, the boxes fell from his arms and he toppled backwards onto the hard floor with an inarticulate yell.

"Ron!" Hermione screamed, jumping up and running to his side. Harry dropped his bag and hurried over.

"I'm OK," Ron insisted trying to sit up.

Hermione wrung her hands. "Maybe you should just lie still for a second," she suggested. She laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

Harry glanced between them. Hermione was gazing down worriedly at Ron, her hand still resting on his chest even though he was no longer trying to stand and Ron was staring up at her with a half smile. Hermione's gaze flicked to her hand and she blushed slightly. Ron's smile widened. It seemed they had both forgotten Harry was in the room.

"I'm going to... er," Harry said quietly, standing and striding towards the door. It may come to nothing, but there was no way he wanted to stay in the room if those two decided that today was the day they announced their feelings. If not that then they'd start a blazing row and he didn't particularly want to stick around for that either.

Fred and George glanced up as he walked out. "What's up?" George asked. "Thought I heard Ron screaming. Had to be him, I know you don't scream like a girl and Hermione's far too clever to be frightened of anything she might find in there."

Harry grinned at them. "Ron and Hermione are having a bit of a... moment, I suppose you could call it. I thought I'd give them some privacy."

"Do tell," Fred said eagerly.

"Why so you can tease him later?" said Harry, feeling somewhat amused.

"We'll do that anyway," Fred pointed out. "But we'd be glad of any details we can use as ammo."

Harry laughed. "I'll be keeping my mouth shut, thanks."

"Where's the fun in that?" Fred pouted.

"You may as well go," George said. "It's been nearly an hour. We'll send Ron and Hermione on when they've finished."

"Thanks," said Harry, suddenly eager to see Hogsmeade again. He took off down the main street, saying hello to some of the other students he passed. He considered stopping in Honeydukes, but decided he'd rather do that when Ron and Hermione were with him so he kept walking until he reached the far end of the village.

He stopped outside the Three Broomsticks. This would be a good place to meet his friends whenever they managed to tear themselves away from the loving gazes they'd been exchanging. He grinned to himself, remembering the way they had been staring at each other. Even if it didn't happen today, it wouldn't be long now.

He really was happy for them, he realised. He'd thought he would be jealous, but for some reason it seemed so right that the two of them be together even if it meant that they didn't have as much time for him as they used to.

A movement caught his eye and he glanced up to where the road ended with a style. From there a path led up into the hills and a number of caves, one of which Sirius had used to hide in during the Triwizard tournament.

His feet moved unbidden, carrying him towards the style. He barely paused, just hopped up and over it, then started striding up the path. He just wanted to see it, just for a minute. He knew whoever was watching him wouldn't be too happy, he only hoped they wouldn't stop him.

As he reached the hills the path disappeared and Harry had trouble remembering the way Sirius had led them almost two years before. He stuck his head into several of the caves, each time disappointed.

He was about to give up when he heard a sound behind him. He spun, wand in hand to face the cave he thought it had come from. An irrational hope sprung up in his chest. "Sirius?" he whispered.

He took a step closer, then another, barely paying any attention to anything but the entrance to the cave.

A hand enclosed his wrist in a crushing grip.

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Hermione muttered to herself as she scanned yet another page of figures written in a somewhat shaky hand. Why did she agree to this again? Oh, yes, because Ron wanted her to, that's why. And whenever he looked at her with that pathetic look somewhere between a pout and a grin she couldn't refuse.

Harry had been dragged into it too, although he'd probably enjoy the prank bounty they'd been promised almost as much as Ron would.

As if her wandering thoughts had summoned him Ron stomped in. "How come you two get the easy jobs?" he whined.

Easy? He thought it was easy to read this chicken scratch and try to decipher what was worth keeping and what was rubbish? "You're welcome to go through these sales figures if you want, but I thought you wanted to go through the boxes for loot."

It apeared he didn't have an answer for that. "Yeah... well."

Hermione tried not to watch him, but not watching Ron was as easy for her as not answering questions in class: nearly impossible. He stacked three boxes haphazardly and bent to pick them up.

"I don't think you should try and lift that many," said Hermione reasonably. "And don't think you can use magic either, we're not in school right now." The last thing they needed was to get dragged back up to school because Ron couldn't control himself. They hadn't even been to Dervish and Banges yet.

Naturally Ron couldn't just accept her advice and responded defensively. "I can handle it."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes as he completely ignored her and leaned forward, grasping the bottom box. "From the knees, Ron."

He grunted as he lifted them, the muscles in his arms and neck straining. "I've got it." He carried them off, his posture rigid as if to prove he could manage.

She only saw the dung bomb an instant before Ron stepped on it. There wasn't even time to yell a warning and he was down, lying on his back and groaning pitifully. And then she was at his side, his name ripping out of her throat and even in her worry all she could think was that he wouldn't listen to her even when she was so obviously right.

Ron, stubborn idiot that he was, tried to sit up. "I'm OK."

"Maybe you should just lie still for a second," she said, pushing on his chest until he lay back down. What if he had a concussion? Or a back injury? He wasn't supposed to move was he? Oh why hadn't she learned more healing spells?

Ron was smiling at her and suddenly it was hard to think straight. She wanted to conjure a stretcher and take him back to the school where Madam Pomfrey could check him over, but for the life of her she couldn't remember the spell. She needed her wand for a start... but then she'd be in trouble for using magic outside of school. A small rebellious voice whispered that no one actually checked on the use of magic in Hogsmeade – she herself had used it in full view of the teachers in the Three Broomsticks sometime in third year and not gotten into trouble – but that wasn't the point. It wasn't allowed unless it was an emergency.

Well this was an emergency wasn't it? Ron could be paralysed if she didn't act soon. Oh God her hand was on his chest and he was still smiling at her. What had she been worrying about?

After a few more long moments in which Hermione's brain became progressively more fuzzy, Ron reached up and grasped the hand still holding him down. "I'm alright now. I think I can sit up."

"Right. Yes," Hermione agreed, backing off slightly.

Ron pushed himself up and now their faces were so close to one another's and she was sure he would try to kiss her. Did she want him to kiss her? Why did she have to think so much, especially when all she was capable of right now was a garbled mess of random musings and oh she really did want him to kiss her. Why wasn't he kissing her?

She decided to take the initiative and inched closer. She was a modern woman wasn't she? Who was to say she couldn't kiss him? Wizards might be incredibly old fashioned but that didn't mean she had to be.

He wasn't backing away and she took that as encouragement to lean in and let her eyes flutter closed. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek and lips and she knew any second she really would be kissing Ron Weasley...

"Harry!" she squeaked, her eyes opening and darting around the stock room. He'd been here a moment ago hadn't he? When had he left? She didn't think she'd survive if he'd seen her and Ron almost... But no, he was gone, probably outside with the twins.

She breathed a sigh of relief and turned back to Ron who was giving her a hurt look. She suddenly realised what he must be thinking, but couldn't think for the life of her how to make it better. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just... I thought he was... And I didn't want to... but I did, just not if he was watching." She could have shuddered at the distorted version of a sentence that dribbled from her mouth. She was normally so articulate. It was Ron's fault, he always turned her brain to mush.

Ron seemed to understand, at least he no longer looked like someone had kicked his puppy so she stood and helped him up. "We should..." she trailed off, gesturing to the door.

Ron nodded and led her outside where Fred and George were chatting amiably.

Hermione schooled her features into a semblence of calm. "Where's Harry?"

They were leering at them as if they knew all about the little moment she had just shared with Ron. She wouldn't put it past them to spy on their little brother at the worst possible moment. She'd kill Harry if he'd said anything to them.

"He went down into the village," George said, grinning at her in a way that made her absolutely positive she was right and they did know. "We said we'd send you two after him when you... finished."

Hermione was sure she was blushing a bright red by now, but she was determined not to lose her cool. "We'll be off then."

As she and Ron headed down the path, Ron carrying a large bag of pranks that he'd taken from the twins, they could hear feet running after them. Hermione almost sighed, thinking it was the twins coming to make more suggestive comments.

There was no one there. It was only years of association with Harry that made her realise they were being followed by someone in an invisibility cloak. The air shimmered lightly and Tonks' face peered through the parted folds of her cloak. "Where's Harry?" she asked quietly.

"Hogsmeade," Ron said.

Tonks' face paled. "Oh no. I lost him. I was only gone for a second, I swear. Dumbledore's gonna kill me."

"It's alright," Hermione said soothingly. "We'll help you find him. He only left a few minutes ago, he can't have gotten that far. He's probably just in Honeydukes."

"Yeah, you're right," Tonks said, forcing herself to calm down. "Go get the twins, they can help. I'll meet you at the Shrieking Shack in ten minutes. If you find him bring him there."

Hermione nodded as the cloak closed over Tonks' face and her footsteps hurried down the road. She really should use a silencing charm.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione said. "The quicker we get the twins the quicker we can find Harry. Knowing him he's already gotten himself in trouble."

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The hand tightened even more and Harry was forced to drop his wand. The hand instantly let go and Harry lunged for his wand, but he was caught by an arm around his chest. He struggled helplessly ignoring the throbbing pain from his wrist.

"Let me go," he cried out, but his attacker was incredibly strong. He kicked backward with all the strength he could muster and was rewarded with a harsh grunt and the arms about him loosening.

He scrambled away and back to his wand, but someone else reached it before he did. Harry gasped in surprise. The man who now held his wand was wearing a kind of costume he had seen only twice before, once at the Burrow and again at the train station. A glance over his shoulder confirmed that the one he had kicked was dressed similarly.

He flung himself at the second man. If he could just knock him off balance he could grab his wand and make a run for it, but the man merely batted him away as if he weighed nothing at all and he rolled a few feet down the hill. Before he could stand one of his attackers grabbed him again.

"Bring him," said the one with his wand.

He was forced to walk forward into the cave where he was pushed to the back and released. It would do him no good though; there were at least a dozen men now standing between him and the exit and he was unarmed.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he looked at them. They couldn't be human. Humans weren't that... beautiful. And no human he'd ever met could move like they did, so graceful, like cats. They all wore their hair long, down to their shoulders and loose, framing angular faces with skin so pale they almost seemed like ghosts except for their eyes which were so bright they seemed to stand right out from their faces. He couldn't believe how delicate they all looked, like they'd break at the lightest touch. The throbbing of his wrist reminded him that wasn't the case.

"We spend so much time trying to find him and he comes to us," one of them laughed. He had a heavy accent Harry didn't recognise. It was almost pretty, like he was singing the words, not saying them.

"What do you want?" he demanded, quelling the panic rising in his chest. He squashed it down. Now was not the time for panic. He'd been in worse situations.

"Relax, Harry Potter," another man said softly. He too spoke in that musical accent. "We have no wish to hurt you."

Harry scoffed. "No, you'll just hand me over to Voldemort and let him do it for you."

"We do not work for Voldemort," the man said calmly. Harry stared at him in surprise; very few people had the courage to say Voldemort's name on either side.

"Then who do you work for?" he said.

"All in good time," the man said, still in his calm tone. "I apologise for the rough treatment you have received thus far, it was never our intention to hurt you. If you will agree to sit with me and allow me to talk to you for a short time then I will return your wand to you and heal your wrist. I promise we mean no harm."

Since he had no other choice Harry nodded. The man in front of him handed over his wand and Harry took it gratefully. He didn't put it away because no matter what this man said he wasn't about to trust him. Another man came over and took Harry's wrist gently in one hand. He took a wand from his boot and gently passed it over the bruising flesh. Warmth immediately spread up his arm and he could feel the pain ebb away. "Thanks," Harry muttered, flexing his wrist slightly.

The man who had spoken sat on the floor in a move so elegant Harry knew he could never match it. Harry perched on a rock opposite him where he could still see the entrance and the other men who were now moving away but not leaving the cave, giving them a semblance of privacy.

He eyed the other man warily. He was perhaps in his forties, with eyes an amazing shade of greenish blue.

"You must forgive me," the man said. "I had expected to have more time to prepare for this meeting. My daughter told me that you usually come to Hogsmeade at Halloween."

"That's why we didn't this time," said Harry. "Because it was too predictable."

"Very sensible," the man agreed. "Now, 'first things first' I believe is what you say. My name is Malachai. Of course, I already know your name."

Harry shrugged. Most people did. His eyes flickered to the entrance. They were being watched closely even if the others couldn't hear what they were saying. He was never going to be able to escape, even with his wand. At least they seemed to be keeping their promise not to hurt him.

The man – or creature called Malachai – was gazing at him steadily. "You are exactly as I expected you to be. I had heard descriptions, but still... I would know who you were if I had never even heard your name. All I would have to do is look in your eyes to see your mother reflected in them."

Harry gaped. So many questions came to mind just from that one speech and he had so many already. "You knew my mum? How?" How could someone like Malachai ever know his mum, a normal muggle-born witch?

"Not well. We walked in different circles, but I saw her many times when she was a young girl. It has been many years since I saw her last. I was very saddened to hear she had been killed. As were we all."

Harry looked away. If only he could trust this man he might learn so much about his mother. Sirius had been a great source of information about James Potter, but he hadn't known Lily very well before she had married James.

"How did you know her?" He appraised Malachai. He looked to be the same age as Harry's parents would be. "Did you go to school with them?"

"I did not," said Malachai. " I never attended Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. That meant he wasn't a wizard, but that led to the question: what was he? He had to be magical, whatever he was. "Just tell me," he said tiredly. He hated how everyone felt the need to speak in riddles around him. Just once he wanted straight answers. "Who are you? You're not human."

Malachai brushed the hair back behind his ears and Harry's jaw dropped open in surprise.

"No, Harry. I am an elf."

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