Year Two

Chapter Eighteen

\\/

"You look like shit Harry."

"Blunt as ever Ron," Stefan grinned from his bed. It was dawn, and although the windowless dungeon dormitory gave no hint to the weather outside, the three boys knew that far above them a thin line of red stretched across the horizon as the new day began. They were expected for training in fifteen minutes. It was the first session Remus had agreed to include the others in.

"Piss off," Draco Malfoy hissed, burying his head under the covers. "You don't have to do this every thrice-cursed morning and wake us all up."

"Stefan hasn't before today," Ron pointed out reasonably.

"You're usually bad enough on your own Weasley."

Malfoy pulled his pillow over his head and yanked his curtains tightly around the bed. Ron and Stefan exchanged grins as they dressed quickly. The deafening snores of Crabbe and Goyle echoed around the dormitory regardless, and that was enough to wake the dead.

Harry felt as though he was underwater. His head was swimming with weeks of missed sleep, and felt as though it was filled with sand. To top of all off, his scar was aching and throbbing. Even the noises of Ron and Stefan getting ready made him wince.

"I don't think I can do it today," Harry said hoarsely, sitting up. Stefan and Ron glanced at each other.

"It's my first day," Stefan said coaxingly. "You can't miss my first session."

"I don't want to miss it. I just..."

"Come in Harry," Ron said seriously. "If it's this bad you need to go to the hospital wing."

The threat of the hospital wing was enough. Harry felt as though his head was going to burst, but somehow managed to get out of bed and dress himself. Somehow he made it all the way down to the training session.

By the time the sun had risen over the lake, casting a pale gold glow across the grounds and making the dew on the grass sparkle, there were eight students lined up in front of Remus, shivering slightly in the damp air.

"Good morning," Remus greeted the new recruits. As usual he looked wide awake, and was bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Morning," a few people mumbled back. It was an unlikely turn out. Ginny was yawning widely and rubbing her eyes, while Luna looked as though she might have wandered in by accident, and was staring out across the lake. Daphne looked exactly like she usually did, and was wearing her usual tight robes. Harry wondered how she was intending to train in them.

Remus smiled at the group in a friendly way. "So we have some new members today. This makes it slightly more difficult because you are going to be on a different level to your friends who have already been training since September, but not insurmountable. "

"Are we all going to work together?" Daphne asked, shifting slightly. Harry thought she looked out of her comfort zone.

"Yes and no," Remus said. "The next couple of weeks will be a crash course while we get you up to speed on the main points we have already covered, and do some intensive physical work. It won't be easy, but by the summer term I hope to have you all on the same wavelength."

The new recruits nodded, with varying expressions. Daphne still looked slightly uncomfortable, while Ginny was practically vibrating with excitement. Harry saw Ron and Neville grinning at each other with anticipation. None of the new members had been briefed on what the session contained, and they were about to get a shock.

Remus led them all down to the lake. "Time for our warm up," he said brightly.

Immediately Harry, Ron, Neville and Hermione stripped down to their underwear, and stood shivering by the edge. Goosebumps sprang up over Harry's skin, and the cold cleared his head slightly. He glanced back over his shoulder to see what the others were doing and burst out laughing.

Daphne, Ginny and Stefan were all staring at the other four with an expression of mute horror on their faces. Daphne began shaking her head immediately.

"No way. No way. I signed up for defense training, not swimming naked in the lake."

"We all do it," Hermione said coaxingly. "It really warms you up for the session."

Over the months of swimming in the lake they had all grown accustomed to the cold, and to the partial nudity. Remus was not a hard taskmaster, but he had driven the point home that they were there to train, not lark about. Although in any other situation Harry, Ron and Neville might have been acutely aware of Hermione's presence, during the course of the session she was one of them - a trainee.

"It's not that bad," Neville agreed.

Stefan was the first to capitulate. He undressed calmly, and lined up beside the first four. "Not as cold as Norway," he shrugged, although goosebumps were appearing all over his skin. Harry frowned at the scars all over Stefan's body. Although he had seen them before they still bothered him. Hermione averted her eyes, a slight hint of pink appearing on her cheeks. Remus seemed more interested in watching the situation play out by itself than getting involved.

"No," Daphne repeated. Ginny was looking wary too.

Luna, who had been regarding the group with only mild interest, glanced out over the lake, and then casually shrugged her robes off as though she was alone. She was stark naked beneath.

"Gah!"

Immediately Harry, Ron, Stefan, Neville and Remus buried their heads in their hands. Remus turned away from Luna immediately, his eyes shut tight. His face was bright red.

"I'm going to get sacked," Remus groaned. "Erm, Luna?"

"Yes Professor Lupin?" Harry heard Luna say serenely. He kept his head buried in his hands, not daring to look. He felt sure his face looked like a tomato.

"Maybe you should sit the swimming out today. Er, until you can get a costume."

"But I like swimming," Luna said, sounding very disappointed.

"And you can...erm...swim. Just maybe...perhaps you should..er...wear something."

"But then the water doesn't circulate properly," Luna protested mildly. "It's very important for the whole body to be purified."

"Forget sacked," Remus mumbled. "I'm going to get arrested."

Fortunately Hermione took matters into her own hands, cleverly duplicating her swimwear and giving Luna a set. With the problem solved, the boys and their tutor felt safe to uncover their eyes. Remus was still very pink, and didn't look at Luna at all, thanking the air above her head.

In the commotion, Ginny shrugged, and stripped, joining the others along the edge of the bank. Finally only Daphne was left. For a long moment, the blonde girl stared at her seven friends, standing by the edge of the lake shivering. Her expression was indecipherable, but Harry thought she looked more uncomfortable than he had ever seen her, and for a long moment he thought she was going to walk away.

"Come on Daphne," Harry surprised himself by saying.

"Yes, you can do it," Neville agreed. The others quickly joined in with their own entreaties and reassurances. As Daphne still looked uncertain, Harry realised she was genuinely upset.

"Are you alright?" Stefan asked suddenly, his expression searching. Daphne glared at Stefan.

"I'm fine," she said roughly, and nodded as though she had come to a decision. Slowly, and with great precision, she unlaced her tight bodice. Then she loosened the cords, pulled off her robes and dropped them on the ground beside her. She stood defiantly in front of them in lacy underwear, as though daring them to comment.

Harry felt the fog in his head clear once and for all as he stared in shock. Daphne's whole body was covered in vicious, deliberate marks. Her torso and chest were crisscrossed with a spaghetti junction of scars, each one a distinct and brutal imprint on her skin. White, purple, crimson. The welts continued down her upper arms and over her thighs. Impossible to count them, impossible to calculate the misery that had gone into those marks.

For a long moment Harry couldn't tear his eyes away. He didn't even register that he was looking at Daphne's unclothed body and he doubted any of the boys beside him did either. They all stood for a moment in appalled silence. Then Harry flushed, mortified he had been staring. But more than mortified; he was angry.

"What happened?" Harry asked in a low, cold voice.

Daphne made no move to cover herself, or to put her robes back on. Her arms hung stiffly by her sides, but her fingers twitched reflexively. "My father happened," Daphne said evenly, after a moment.

"I thought so."

They all turned to stare at Stefan. The Norwegian boy was looking directly at Daphne, his eyes flashing with anger. "I knew it. At the Christmas ball I saw you. It was a clever glamour you were wearing, but when you moved it shimmered slightly."

Harry felt his heart sinking. He himself had noticed no such thing.

"Shall we swim?" Daphne asked, her face like stone as she looked past them all.

"Don't pretend," Stefan said in a low voice, looking intently at Daphne. He gestured to his own scarred body. "Look at me. I know. You can't fake it here."

"You don't need to fake it," Hermione said softly. "We'll help you."

"You're never going back there," Harry said. In his head he was fantasising about finding Mr Greengrass and tearing him limb from limb with his bare hands, then feeding the remnants to Norbert. From the looks on his friends faces, they were imagining a similar situation.

"How long?" Stefan asked quietly.

Daphne looked at him for a moment, and seemed to be considering whether or not to answer. Finally she raised her chin slightly. "Since I was six."

Harry closed his eyes in horror.

"I don't want to talk about it," Daphne said calmly. Too calmly. When Remus opened his mouth to say something, she held up a hand to stop him.

"I don't want to talk, I don't want help, I don't want you to tell anyone. If I suspect you're going to inform someone, I will find you when you are sleeping and obliviate you. All I want is to learn how to fight properly. That's what I'm here for, and if I have to strip in order to learn how to kill, then I will do it. Now can we please get started?"

"Daphne," Remus said weakly. "This is a safeguarding issue. This is a matter of you being a child in my care, and you needing help."

Daphne's eyes flashed. "I haven't been a child for a very long time, Remus."

"I am obliged to report this, your father needs to be held accountable for his actions."

"He will," Daphne said softly, venom dripping from her words. "Oh he will. But not by you. This is a matter between my family and I, and I do not required your interference. Now can we please get on with things?"

When Remus opened his mouth to speak again it was Stefan who cut him off.

"You need to listen to Daphne," Stefan insisted suddenly. Remus looked at him with surprise.

"It's her choice. You would be disrespecting her by not adhering to her wishes. Think about it. Talk about it another time. But perhaps for the moment we should get on with training?"

Harry saw Daphne looking at Stefan with relief, and nudged Ron and Neville. When they looked up, he gestured at the water. The boys immediately understood his meaning, and all three of them turned to the lake as one and jumped in. The icy water closed over Harry's head for a moment, and he fought the urge to shout as he surfaced, gasping. Luna and Ginny followed, jumping in holding hands.

Stefan extended a hand towards Daphne. She looked uncertain, and in an instant Harry understood everything. Daphne had long been an enigma to him. Her icy exterior and haughty ways could easily be passed off as a pureblooded upbringing, but it never quite rang true. Finally, Harry knew that all her pride, her coolness, her slyness was nothing more than a mask behind which to hide her scars.

Daphne took Stefan's hand, and they turned to the water. They ran forward together, their clasped hands linking their scarred arms together. Harry and the others, and even Remus cheered as the scarred pair hurled themselves into the lake, and the water rose up to meet them.

When the two heads, one blonde and one dark, popped out of the water like corks, Daphne was laughing and crying at the same time. Her pale face was streaked with water and tears, but somehow she looked more beautifully alive than Harry had ever seen before.

\\/

"Letter for you Potter."

"Mmm?" Harry lifted his head from the breakfast table where he had been resting it, and flicked a few stray cornflakes from his dreadlocks.

Vapour was perched on the Slytherin breakfast table, regarding him with her head on one side. She clucked unhappily at him as she extended her leg. Harry rubbed his eyes as he detached the letter, not noticing his friends regarding him with worry from across the table. The Easter holidays were nearly upon them, and Harry's headaches were no better.

The letter looked somewhat official. It was printed on thick creamy parchment, and had the Ministry of Magic seal on the back. Harry frowned, turning it over in his hands as he wondered what the Ministry could want with him.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Hermione said, leaning over with interest. Draco Malfoy and the other Slytherins twitched reflexively, just down the bench. They still hadn't grown accustomed to the muggleborn presence at the table.

Harry broke the seal, and withdrew a letter printed on the same thick parchment. The Ministry crest appeared again at the top, and beneath it was addressed to Mr Harry James Potter.

Dear Mr Potter,

You are hearby invited to attend an official investigation into the events that took place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, on the evening of the 30th of December, 1993.

The Wizengamot understands that Mr Potter was not present for the events which involved the suspected attack of a basilisk, resulting in the petrification of several students. Mr Potter is instead required to act as a late witness to the actions of the following students; Hermione Jean Granger; Daphne Winter Greengrass and Ginevra Molly Weasley.

The Wizengamot will discuss at this juncture the possibility of an Order of Merlin Third Class being awarded to the aforementioned.

The investigation will take place on the 3rd of June at the Ministry of Magic. An escort can be arranged by the Ministry, should you be unable to provide your own.

We await your owl.

Edmund Nott, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic.

"Urgh," Harry sighed, burying his head in his hands. Hermione leaned over and snatched the letter from Harry.

"Oh my goodness," she gasped, scanning the contents. "Ohmygoshohmygoshareyoukiddingme."

Ron made a grab for it, and within mintues, the entire group knew that Ginny, Hermione and Daphne were being nominated for an Order of Merlin. Draco Malfoy seemed to have picked up on this news, and his face was even sourer than usual.

"This is amazing!" Hermione squealed, her chest rising and falling as she took deep breaths. Ron looked rather more distracted by that, than the news about the award.

"Mum's gonna be over the moon," Ginny agreed, her eyes sparkling.

"What about you Daphne?"

Daohne shrugged, picking at her food. She had her head buried in an old manual on muggle material arts that Remus had lent her, and hadn't looked up for the past ten minutes. Ron commented she was becoming worse than Hermione, and received a slap for his words from both witches.

"I wonder why it's not until June," Neville said thoughtfully, picking up the letter and reading it with interest. In the kerfuffle, somebody had knocked a glass of pumpkin juice over, and the creamy parchment now sported orange stains.

"Because they have to finalise all the evidence," Hermione said at once. "And that takes forever. It doesn't help that they never found the basilisk."

Daphne looked up from her book. She smiled a smug, secret smile, and gently slipped one hand into her pocket. "Shame really," she said idly. "You never know where a basilisk is going to end up."

\\/

The term ended in a series of spring showers. A wet and rainy Easter break was spent at Storm Cottage with Kingsley and Mad-Eye, and a wide selection of Harry's friends who popped in and out, and stayed for varying amounts of time. Mad-Eye commented grumpily that at times he felt as though he was living in Kings Cross Station, but Harry knew he didn't really mind.

It was a subdued holidays because of Harry's ongoing troubles with his scar, and they spent most of it training on the beach with Mad-Eye, making the most of having the grizzled old auror around to teach them. His lessons were very different to Remus', and contained a vicious edge to them. Daphne in particular could be found often in deep discussion with Mad-Eye about bone breaking, and entrail expelling curses. Harry chose not to think too much about it.

Harry was surprised, and slightly disappointed when Sirius and Remus didn't join them, but Kingsley said the pair had returned to Uganda, thanks to growing concerns about the ministry discovering Sirius. The cave on the hill was no longer safe with a fully grown adult dragon just next door. Norbert had apparently now reached twenty foot in length, and was requiring larger and larger quantities of food to sustain him. A dog wandering too close would have made a nice snack for the Norwegian Ridgeback.

\\/

"I can't bear this any longer!"

Harry raised his head languidly and looked across the Storm Cottage library at Hermione, who was bent over a scroll by the fire. "What's wrong?"

"I can't calculate properly like this," Hermione huffed. "I need a different measuring tool, and I don't have it with me."

Ron and Neville were playing chess in the corner, and both of them stifled snickers. Hermione shot a furious look in their direction, and crumpled up her paper, throwing it into the fire.

"Hey now!" Harry protested mildly. "There's no need for that. What do you need?"

"It's called a speculator," Hermione said huffily, folding her arms. "I'm trying to calculate the properties of a certain potion, and I can't do it in my head."

Harry sighed. The weather had worsened for the last few days of the holidays, and none of them had ventured outside. Stefan, Luna, Ginny and Daphne had all returned home, and it was just Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville again. Initially they had enjoyed returning to their core. But without leaving the house, tempers had become frayed. The atmosphere was becoming stifling.

"Why don't we go and get you a speculator then?" Harry suggested after a moment. "I could do with a trip outside."

"A trip where?"

"Diagon Alley, of course. Kingsley would let us floo there."

Hermione tilted her head, and Harry could see she was considering it. When she cast a regretful look at the last of her parchment turning to ash in the fire, Harry knew she was sold on the idea.

"Excellent." Harry rose to his feet. "It's not even lunchtime yet. I'll go tell Kings' we're going for a couple of hours. Are you coming Ron? Neville? "

"Of course," Ron said, quickly placing a charm over the chessboard to stop the players from attempting to destroy one another in their absence. Neville nodded, and also rose to his feet.

As Harry had predicted, Kingsley had no problem with the group visiting the Wizarding Alley for a couple of hours, and he waved them on their way with a few practiced words about sticking together.

They arrived at Diagon Alley in the largest downpour to hit Britain all day. When the public fireplace regurgitated the four, the rain was thundering down on the narrow cobbled street, and running in rivulets down the cracks. Hermione shrieked as they were hit by a wave of freezing water, and they all sprinted for the closest shop.

Flourish and Blotts was packed with dripping shoppers, all of whom seemed to be dodging the rain. The atmosphere was unpleasantly damp, and too warm. Harry wriggled uncomfortably in his wet robes. Hermione however, seemed to have immediately forgotten her funk, and was perusing the shelves eagerly. Harry sighed, and caught Ron and Neville's eyes. They rolled them simultaneously.

For a short while Harry examined a few books. But the crowd was pressing in around him, and he was uncomfortable with the closeness.

"Hermione? Speculator?" He tried hopefully.

"Mmm. In a minute. Just let me finish this…"

Harry groaned. "I'm going for a walk then."

"Alright. Are you taking Ron and Neville?"

Harry looked around, and realised both of his friends had been swallowed up by the hordes of people. He contemplated the futility of searching for them both, and shook his head.

"No, they're still in here somewhere. Shall I meet you at the Magical Tools shop in half an hour?"

"Yes, alright," Hermione said distractedly, setting aside Change in Charms and picking up Potions with Persepheus Poison.

\\/

Harry wandered the streets in the light drizzle, entering every shop that struck his fancy and chatting with various people. Eventually he began directing his feet towards the Magical Tools shop. Medulus and Twiffles Magical Tools was located towards the far end of the alley, closer to Knockturn alley than Harry would have preferred. Hermione was not yet there, so he began browsing the windows of the shops nearby.

As Harry glanced down Knockturn Alley, he noticed a strange little shop on the corner.

It was an unusual place for a store. The other shops were further down the Alley, not crammed on the corner that bisected Diagon and Knockturn. Harry's interest got the better of him, and he tried to look in the windows, but they were covered with a thick layer of crawling plants on the interior. Curious but wary, he went inside.

At first he saw nothing because the store was so dark, but then his eyes adjusted to the faint greenish light that filtered through the windows. A colorful bird with wide tail feathers and a sharp, powerful beak looked at Harry inquisitively from a cage near the window. The walls were covered with plants; vines clung to the ceiling, obscuring all but an old chandelier, and on the floor was a large pot with a yellow flower. A collection of mortars, pestles, metal bowls, and a clear crystal ball the size of Harry's head rested on a long counter.

He walked to the counter, carefully stepping around complex machines, crates of rocks, piles of scrolls, and other objects he did not recognize. The wall behind the counter was covered with drawers of every size. Some of them were no larger than his smallest finger, while others were big enough for a barrel. There was a foot-wide gap in the shelves far above.

A pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from the dark space, and a large, fierce cat leapt onto the counter. It had a lean body with powerful shoulders and oversized paws. A shaggy mane surrounded its angular face; its ears were tipped with black tufts. White fangs curved down over its jaw. Altogether, it did not look like any cat Harry had ever seen. It inspected him with shrewd eyes, then flicked its tail dismissively.

"Hello," Harry said, extending a hand towards the cat. It hissed at him in a warning sort of way, and sat on the counter abruptly, staring at him. Harry felt uncomfortable under its gaze.

The door to the shop swung open, letting in a beam of sunlight. A short, plump young woman with cropped hair entered, carrying an armful of books. Her eyes flickered at Harry and she looked startled. "Hello. Can I help you?"

"Sorry," Harry said awkwardly. "I just came in to look around."

The womans face dimpled as she smiled. "By all means, look away. Do you need anything in particular?"

"Not that I can think of. What do you sell here?"

"This and that," said the woman with a grin, setting the bag down on the counter. "Good luck potions and fortune telling for the rich lords, love potions for the rich fool ladies, and sometime even vice versa."

"Do they work?" Harry asked curiously.

"Not in the slightest," the woman said with a cheeky smile. "But rich fools will believe what they want."

"What kind of things do you tell them? " Harry asked, picking up a small crystal ball from the counter. Then he let out a yell - the ball had turned bright red and seared his skin with heat. Even as he dropped it with a clunk, the colour disappeared. Harry nursed his burnt hand scowling.

"Don't touch anything if you're not sure what it's for." The woman winked. "And as for the future readings, well they were nonsense anyway. You're not interested in one are you Harry?"

"How did you know who I am?" Harry asked, suddenly wary.

"The whole world knows who you are!" The woman tossed her head impatiently at him, and Harry laughed.

"I suppose so. But that just makes my future all the more inevitable."

"Not necessarily," the woman said. "In fact Harry, for you...for you I would set aside the nonsense and do a true reading."

"You're a seer?" Harry asked with surprise.

The woman stared at him for a moment, and then nodded to herself. "I think . . ." She gestured at the crystal ball resting on the counter. "That's only for show anyway—it doesn't do anything. But I do have . . . Wait here; I'll be right back." She hurried into a room at the back of the shop.

She came back, breathless, holding a leather pouch, which she set on the counter. "I haven't used these for so long, I almost forgot where they were. Now, sit across from me and I'll show you why I went to all this trouble." Harry found a stool and sat. The cat's eyes glowed from the gap in the drawers.

The witch spread a thick cloth across the table, and carefully removed a set of ancient cards from the pouch. Harry looked at them sceptically, but as the woman turned them over to shuffle them, his scepticism turned to awe. The pictures on the cards were all hand painted, and the most exquisite scenes were laid out across them. As the woman shuffled the cards faster and faster, Harry saw kings and witches, dragons and galleons pouring through her fingers.

"These," she said, touching them gently, "are the Divining Cards of Morgana herself. Don't ask where I got them; it is a secret I won't reveal. But unlike tea leaves, crystal balls, or even rune stones, these have true power. They do not lie, though understanding what they say is . . . complicated. If you wish, I will cast and read them for you. But understand that to know one's fate can be a terrible thing. You must be sure of your decision."

Harry looked at the cards with a feeling of dread. "Why do you offer this?" he asked.

"Because your fate, Harry Potter, has been debated by others from the moment you were born. I offer you the chance to see the truth for yourself."

Harry took a deep breath. He knew too much about magic to be able to immediately dismiss the fortune telling as false.

"I want to know," Harry decided. The witch nodded, as though she hadn't expected any other decision.

"Choose three for me."

The woman fanned the cards out on the cloth, and looked at Harry expectantly. He selected three at random. The witch picked up the cards and shuffled them again, before asking to pick another two. Then she put away the remainder of the cards, and laid out the five Harry had selected.

Minutes slowly passed as she studied the cards. Finally, the witch leaned back and heaved a long sigh. She wiped her brow and pulled out a dusty bottle of firewhiskey from under the counter. "Do you want some?" she asked. Harry shook his head. She shrugged and drank deeply. "This," she said, wiping her mouth, "is the hardest reading I've ever done. I've never seen a destiny so tangled."

"So it didn't work?" Harry asked, looking at the cards laid out.

"I could divine some answers," the woman conceded. "But it was like drawing blood from a stone." Harry clenched his hands as she pointed to one of the cards. "I will start here," she said slowly, "because it is the clearest to understand."

The picture on the card was an ancient and withered tree, drooping over a lake. "The elm," the witch said quietly. "A long life. I cannot tell whether it means you will have a normal life span, or a longer than natural one, but either way be sure that many years lie before you."

Harry nodded. If the reading was fake, it was a fairly unprovable predication to make.

"Now things become a little more complicated. See there - The Wanderer is to the right of The Executioner, and below is the Ocean. A pattern I've never seen, only heard of. The The Wanderer shows that there are many choices in your future. A terrible destiny has been placed upon you, but it is your own choice whether or not you fulfil it. Battles will rage around you, some fought for your sake. Countless possible futures lie ahead of you, filled with blood and conflict, but only one choice will lead to happiness."

Here her face grew sad. "The Executioner. Many deaths lies in your future, and they are rapidly approaching. I cannot tell whether they be friend or foe. And, you will lose - for a time - someone you hold very dear, and it will cause you much grief. But here see -" she gestured at the card that depicted a calm sea. "This is unmistakeable. Your life will reach a point where you will be driven from this land by those who wish you ill, forced to flee and seek refuge across a great ocean. It will be your choice as to whether you ever return."

The witch's words frightened Harry. Across the ocean? Does she mean Uganda? But who could drive me away from Britain so surely that I wish to never return except for Voldemort. And death? Who else must I lose?

The witch rubbed her temples and breathed deeply. Harry rubbed his scar unconsciously and grimaced. The fortune telling had made him uncomfortable, and the talk of death and losing someone he loved had made him wary.

Then the witch laughed. "Put it from your mind," she said easily, following his thoughts. "You are very young yet, I speak of the rest of your life, not the weeks that lie ahead!"

Harry grinned. "After all that, death might be welcome!"

"It might be," said the witch solemnly, then laughed slightly. "But you shouldn't fret about what has yet to occur. The only way the future can harm us is by causing worry. I guarantee that you'll feel better once you're out in the sun."

"I think so," Harry nodded. He glanced around the shop. The cat was still observing them from between the shelves. On a whim, tentatively, Harry reached out and tried to touch his mind.

"Piss off, stinking human."

The cat projected his thoughts for the whole room to here, sprang to his feet and stalked out of the door. The witch burst into peals of laughter. "Oh dear! Did you try and read his mind? It's really much more polite to ask, you know."

"He's…intelligent," Harry exclaimed.

"Well of course he is." The witch's eyes flashed. "He's my companion, after all."

"Can you talk to him?"

She tossed her head. "Of course, but that doesn't mean he'll say anything back."

"I'll bet," Harry muttered wryly. "I think in the future I'll stick to snakes."

The woman's face changed. "You're a parselmouth," she breathed, shaking her head. What I wouldn't give to have front row seats to the rest of your life! Your past is a mystery to all, yet you arrive in my shop aged twelve, with the ability to touch minds. You can speak to snakes, and you have a most interesting destiny. It is not nearly as set in stone as people seem to believe it to be."

"By most people, do you mean Dumbledore?" Harry asked crossly.

The witch burst out laughing. "Ah that one! Quite the reputation in my circles. But he's really - well he's not that bad. Many of us find him rather amusing, in fact."

"Amusing?"

"Well his destiny is something of a joke to those of us with the ability to see these things."

"How?" Harry asked, scratching his head. His feelings for the headmaster were complex, but humour had not entered into it.

The witch grinned. "His whole life has been a series of disasters. He is the greatest wizard alive, yet his very powers are that which doom him. He has had in his grasp a few chances for true happiness over the course of his life, and each time he has failed to take it. Many years ago I told the fortune of Albus Dumbledore. He didn't like it at all, and has not sought me out since. He even turned me down for the position of divination teacher at Hogwarts over a decade ago."

"A decade?" Harry protested. "You can't be that old."

The witch smiled. "I'm far older than I look, Harry Potter."

"What's your name?"

The witch's smile broadened. "I have many names, and have been known by even more over the years of my life. But you may call me Ana."

"Just Ana?" Harry said.

"Just Ana," the witch confirmed.

"I think I have to go," said Harry, shaken.

"If you want to," said Ana, smiling again. "You are welcome to stay here as long as you like. But go if you wish; I'm sure that I've given you enough to ponder for a while."

"Yes." Harry quickly made his way to the door. "Thank you for reading my future."

"You're welcome," said Ana, still smiling.

Harry exited the shop and stood in the street, squinting until his eyes adjusted to the brightness. It was a few minutes before he could think calmly about what he had learned. Then he remembered Hermione and the others, and began to run down the street until he reached the Magical Tools shop. Hermione was standing outside with Neville and Ron, clutching a paper bag and looking worried.

"Harry!" She burst out as soon as she saw him. "Where have you been? We've been so worried!"

Something in Harry told him not to admit to anyone where he had been. "I got lost," he lied reluctantly. "Sorry."

But as he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling and listening to the waves crashing on the shore, he heard the words echoed over and over in his head.

\\/

Thanks for reading

Cas