Denizen

A/N: To give just a little background information on this story, Denizen started out as a one-shot, but then grew into something far more. Inspiration for this story was drawn from The Langoliers by Stephen King, an excellent way to pass the time! Hopefully, Denizen will also be seen as an excellent way to pass the time. I can only hope so, at least.

A Prophet of Prophetic Proportions

1

Hermione jumped, her heart racing. Blinking her eyes open, a conurbation of stars winked down at her. The tips of tall oaks reared overhead. It was nightfall. She was dazed, her mind like a small ferry dizzied by a maelstrom of confusion. She turned her head left and right, her neck clamoring in protest. A sea of leaves greeted her on either side. She groaned, closing her eyes to ward off her pounding migraine. Blackness stared back at her, it pregnant by a kaleidoscope of blooming star-like clouds. Her head, meanwhile, felt like a prison of fists that was attempting to break free.

Quickly running a physical diagnostic over her body, Hermione surmised that she was fine. Yes, she was hungry as her stomach dutifully notified her of this, but otherwise, confusion was the only problematic factor that held any weight in this intricate equation she had been chalked into. Surrounding sounds were minimal, emergent with nocturnal animals and a breeze that carried in the wind. Above her, the foliage whispered. This masked a crackle but when the wind ceased, the crackle grew to operatic volumes.

Peeling back her eyelids, Hermione craned her neck and saw a small black cauldron nestled at the base of a large tree. A fire had been lit underneath it. She sat up, biting her bottom lip as she did so, and turned towards it. Peering closely, she gasped aloud when a small boy's head came into view, it swimming in an avalanche of bright embers that parachuted the air. For his part, the boy stared over at Hermione as if gauging her like a Muggle zoo animal, measuring her movements.

Pushing to her feet, Hermione's hands bulleted her jeans pockets and nearly cried out in relief when she extracted her wand. She pointed it at the boy and asked harshly, "Who are you?"

The boy backed up quickly, running into a nearby tree. Alarm authored his face as he held up his hands in surrender and said, "Sean! My name's Sean!"

"Where am I?" she asked him as if she was his own personal hostage.

"I dunno," he told her, his hands still in the air. "I woke up only a little while ago."

"Woke up?"

He nodded animatedly at her. "I was asleep, and you were too."

"Where were you before?"

This time, he shook his head. "Can't remember," was his reply.

Where was I before? she wondered.

"Hermione?" a voice suddenly said from behind her.

Whipping around, she was shocked to find Harry coming to, pulling himself up and resting on his elbows. "What's happened?" And after looking around: "Where are we?"

Helping him to his feet, she said, "That's what we're trying to figure out."

"We?"

Pointing her finger, she began, "This is-,"

"Sean," and the boy pushed himself off of the tree. He walked past the cauldron and embers blew like a curtain against his jeans. He didn't seem to notice.

"How old are you?" Hermione asked him.

"Ten," he answered automatically as a chilly breeze stole over them. It blew the short brown cowlick at the back of his head to the side. He didn't seem to notice this either.

"D'you know where we are?" Harry asked.

"I already told her that I didn't," Sean frowned, nodding his head over at Hermione. He pocketed his hands and kicked at the ground like one would an anthill, trying to supplant the ants that lived inside it.

Turning to her, Harry asked, "Any ideas?"

She looked around at the fresh mass of trees, and spotted a lake that slept just beyond them. From what she could see, the water was as still as glass, ignoring the wind that passed over it. A school of embers from the cauldron trafficked over the surface of the lake and glowed like drowned lanterns…lanterns that managed to keep alight. Because of this, it was as if gems and jewels flooded the bottom of the water. Shades of red, orange, and yellow festered together like moths to a flame and swam across the lake, dying when the embers from above completed the journey atop the water. Hermione was hypnotized by this, watching the reds, oranges, and yellows, but the reds were what caught her attention. Reds, she thought absentmindedly, like rubies. Then, it hit her: rubies. They were inset in the Sword of Gryffindor, and the sword was recovered by Harry in-

"The Forest of Dean!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's where we are!" She was so happy that she was finally able to remember something as before, her memory had been foggy, and thick patches of grey hid any resolve that might've explained her situation. All she was able to make out were shadows, blurry ones at that, and they weren't becoming any clearer no matter how hard she tried to focus on them. But now, some of the fog had dispersed, and the thick patches of grey were becoming more defined. The shadows were still shadows, yet shapes were beginning to form.

Harry turned in a circle, then stopped when he saw the lake. "The Forest of Dean?" he repeated quietly to himself, and his eyes seemed to be faraway. "Ron destroyed Slytherin's Locket with the sword-,"

"Ron!" Harry and Hermione said together, and quickly looked around them to see if he was close by. Hermione lit her wand as she heard Harry do the same behind her, and held it high in the air. Light swathed the small clearing they were in, and erupted past the nearest trees. Her eyes searching frantically, she came upon leaves and more leaves but no sign of Ron whatsoever. She decided to try another tactic.

"Homenum Revelio," she said, pointing her wand at the blackness of the forest.

"Anything?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said, and uneasiness mushroomed up and down her arms.

"Who's Ron?" Sean looked curiously between them.

"A friend of ours," Harry said, and sighed heavily. "We were traveling across the country together, but he isn't here with us."

"Across the country?" Sean repeated, his hazel eyes wide. "What for?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look before he asked, "You from around here?"

"Can't remember."

"See if you remember this. You ever hear of a wizard called-," but Harry stopped abruptly.

Hermione looked around to see if something or someone caught his attention. However, there was nothing or no one that she could make out. Meanwhile, Sean took a cautious step backward as if he had decided that Harry was a complete and utter madman, a madman who couldn't be trusted.

"-Voldemort," he finally finished.

And like telepathy (The Inner Eye does not See upon command, but you, my dear, have! she mentally heard Professor Trelawney declare in her mistiest, most faraway voice), she remembered.

"Hogwarts!" and she staggered a little. "Voldemort wanted you to give yourself up in the Forbidden Forest!" And looking down at the wand in her hand, she realized it wasn't her own as she initially thought, but instead belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange. Hers had been confiscated by Snatchers before they had taken Harry, Ron, and her to Malfoy Manor.

"Voldemort? Who's that?" Sean asked.

Hermione heard him, but his voice seemed distant and remote, inaccessible even. Her mind was still whirling over the fact that the conflict at Hogwarts hadn't yet finished, but was still ongoing. The armistice was only temporary, Voldemort giving Harry one hour.

"I used the Resurrection Stone," Harry said, and Hermione turned her attention on him. "And I saw them. My mum and dad." He wet his lips. "Sirius…Remus." He then shook his head lightly like trying to rid himself of an irksome fly.

"Do you still have it?" Hermione asked. "The Resurrection Stone?"

He palmed his jeans, sticking his hands inside them. After searching, he shook his head. "But it doesn't matter. We have to go back."

"What about Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe he's at Hogwarts," Harry said, though Hermione could tell that he didn't really believe it. She didn't either. The reason why she didn't believe it was completely lost on her, but it was her gut feeling, one that happened to be correct most of the time.

"Should we bring Sean along too?"

Harry looked over at him for a long moment, studying him. For his part, Sean held his gaze, his hands still in his pockets. His hazel eyes burned brightly as if they were small pits of fire. The cowlick at the back of his head nearly reminded Hermione of Harry, and how it was always untidy. In fact, Sean closely resembled Harry when he was eleven, thinking about how she had met him on the Hogwarts Express. They were both small and skinny, had thin faces, and knobbly knees. The only differences were that Harry wore glasses while Sean didn't, had green eyes instead of hazel, and had lightning bolt-shaped scar on his head.

"We'll bring him along unless he has somewhere else to be." Then, turning towards him, he asked, "Do you?"

"I can barely remember a thing," Sean said.

"Fine, let's go then."

"Should we put the fire out?" and Sean pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

Hermione waved Bellatrix's wand and a jet of water sprouted from its tip, dousing the flames under the cauldron. Sean didn't seem at all impressed with this, leading Hermione to believe that he was a wizard. However, she wasn't exactly sure if he'd be receiving his Hogwarts letter anytime soon due to the fact that parts of the school were in complete ruins from what she was able to recall of it.

"You put that there?" Harry asked him.

"No, it was already there when I woke up before you guys did."

2

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was bare except for the body of Xenophilius Lovegood. The House tables and that for the staff were gone. The throne-like chair reserved for the current Headmaster or Headmistress was absent. Even the candles that hung in the air were lost, missing, or removed. Nonetheless, the ceiling was still bewitched to look like the sky outside, and stars were like a colossal galaxy across it. Night ghosted the windows.

"It takes past noon to arrive though the night comes after. To miss the purple sun would mean imprisonment thereafter," Xenophilius muttered. His eyes were closed, and his candy floss hair kissed his shoulders. "It takes past noon to arrive though the night comes after. To miss the purple sun would mean imprisonment thereafter," he repeated softly.

A prisoner in his own mind, Xenophilius knew he was sleeping…or was in some sort of comatose state. He didn't really know which one it was, but he had tried his hardest to move multiple times. Moving, he thought, would end whatever perilous situation he found himself in. As it was, he wished he could at least open his eyes. Even one of them would be beneficial! But alas, such luxurious just weren't available to him. Not yet, at least. He did believe something would transpire eventually, or someone would happen upon him and trip over his seemingly lifeless body.

Bon voyage! he'd say to the poor witch or wizard he had caused to fall over. It means have a nice trip! And while you're down here, do you mind helping a fellow out? I can't move, you see, and I'd really like to. Loan me your wand, and you'll be featured on the cover of the next edition of The Quibbler! You don't know what The Quibbler is? Pish posh! It's the Wizarding World's Alternative Voice, it is!

But, for the time being at least, coherent speech was out of the realm of possibility. Xenophilius supposed he was alone wherever he was (My ears still work, don't they? Though the Crumple-Horned Snorkack wouldn't want that, would it? No! It'd instead like to pierce me with its horn, that creature of the Devil!), and if he wasn't, all anyone would hear is a riddle about a purple sun and imprisonment. However, if such a riddle had become known to him, then the Resurrection Stone had most certainly been used. Not only that, but the use of it released the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Or maybe, this is all just a ploy from that creature of the Devil. Yes, such a likelihood is to be the case! It's bidding its time, playing with my sleeping or comatose body until it gets bored. Then, it'll charge at me with its horn! That damned horn! Why didn't I think of it before? But, then, what could I do about it? I can't find my wand, I can't move, and I can't speak about anything that makes sense to those who are ignorant of the power of the Resurrection Stone. Oh, I'm in a predicament, alright. A predicament with horns, too!

And as Xenophilius remained lifeless on the floor, he opened his mouth and said, "It takes past noon to arrive though the night comes after. To miss the purple sun would mean imprisonment thereafter."

3

Everything was black, and he was being pressed very hard in every direction imaginable. He tried to breathe but couldn't as iron bands were squeezing his chest until he was sure the muscles would turn into thin strands of Muggle pasta. He thought about opening his eyes to see if maybe something had gone wrong, yet was unable to because his eyeballs were trying their best to lodge themselves in the soft folds of his brain. A dull roar filled his ears and he was sure he'd go deaf, insane, or both if it didn't stop anytime soon.

Then, the sweet summer air flooded his body, drowning his lungs. He instantly fell over but before he hit the ground, both strangers caught him. He wanted to thank them, but was still trying to keep from getting sick. He heaved several times, his hands on his knees, and gagged thereafter. He hacked and spit a missile at the ground. A small puddle of saliva pooled the dirt.

"What-," he started but he had to stop as he coughed deeply into his hand. "Was-," he tried to continue but paused yet again to spit. Now two puddles of saliva pooled the dirt. "That?" Sean managed to get out.

"Apparition," the girl said kindly to him. "You've never done it before, have you?"

He shook his head.

"Not even your parents-,"

"Don't remember who they are," he interrupted. And it was the truth. He definitely had a mum and dad, but for the life of him, had no memory of their names or what they looked like.

"Apparition is a magical form of transportation," she explained. "It allows us to travel from one place to another."

"You mean-," Sean started, and then stopped. His mouth then opened like a fly trapper when he realized that they had certainly left the Forest of Dean. Instead, they were on the outskirts of another forest in the midst of a large castle.

"That's Hogwarts?" and he pointed a finger.

"It is," the girl nodded her head, but looked troubled.

Sean saw this and asked, "Why? What's wrong?"

She sighed deeply and said, "There's nothing wrong which is why something is."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sean pointed out.

The boy stepped towards him (Well, he isn't really a boy, is he? Sean thought to himself. He's more of a man, right? And the girl can't just be a girl, but a woman. She doesn't look that old, though.) and said, "The last time we were here, parts of Hogwarts was completely destroyed. Voldemort and Death Eaters attacked the castle and everyone inside it."

"Why would they do that?"

"Because of me," the man replied simply and turned back around.

"It's like it hasn't even been touched," the girl (woman) said.

"You want to try that spell of yours again to see if anyone's around?"

She did, and a small silver otter popped into existence.

"Bloody hell!" Sean exclaimed, pointing at the otter. Then, he clamped both of his hands over his mouth because even though he couldn't remember his parents, he was able to recall a hazy memory of his mum chastising him for language he tend to let slip. Because even though he'd seen magic before, a spell creating a silver animal in midair was something new to him.

"Come on," the girl (woman) said. "Let's follow it."

They eased out from behind the front line of the trees with Sean stalking them. The sloping grounds of Hogwarts were empty while a treasure chest of stars was spilt above them. Meanwhile, puffy clouds swarmed the face of the moon. The shadows of the castle stretched towards them like black sails of a ghost ship, luring them past the shores of an ocean that stretched on for eternity. Because of this, Sean swallowed heavily.

Ever since waking up in the Forest of Dean, Sean hadn't completely felt like himself. He figured that having no recognition of what he'd been doing before or where he was when he fell asleep didn't help matters any. Not only that, but he was with two strangers. Well, this wasn't completely true. The man was a little familiar to him, but didn't know in what way exactly. The girl (woman) also looked like someone he knew, someone he was close to, but again, his brain wasn't functioning properly for him to remember much of anything at all. He even thought that Hogwarts was recognizable by some aspects, though unfortunately, such aspects were too far away from him to piece together.

He watched as the silver otter swam in the air in front of them, leading them closer and closer to the castle. He thought it pretty neat that the girl (woman) was able to cast such a lifelike otter out of nothing. He wanted to try and do the same, but had no wand of which to practice from. And on that point, wands were another thing that was notable as he remembered his mum and dad both had one. But who were they? Where were they? And why weren't they with him right now?

Looking from side to side, Sean felt as if someone else was with them, deciding to tag along without making himself, herself, or itself known. He didn't see anyone else around, though the shadows of Hogwarts definitely played tricks on his mind. The deformed grounds they happened upon assisted in this conspiracy. The forest behind paid him no favors as blackness hooded the foremost trees, making it seem as if the forest itself was hollow, housing a large monster with purple fur and a gold horn atop its head that was cursing itself for letting its breakfast, lunch, and dinner get away from it. But Sean supposed it would be waiting (and hoping) for its meals to return a short while later. He shuddered.

The man apparently sensed Sean's own trepidation as he asked the girl (woman), "You sure there's only one person here?"

"One otter, one person," she confirmed.

As they approached the oak front door, the phrase Babies for Britain suddenly fitted across Sean's own consciousness. He nearly stopped at this for he had no idea where such an expression came from. It was seemingly random, and unquestionably weird. He looked back over his shoulder to see if the monster with purple fur and a gold horn on its head would burst out from behind the trees.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! it would screech, and sprint towards them, snapping its jaws hungrily. You can't run from me! I am hungry, and need to eat! They'd try the front door of Hogwarts only to find it locked, and Sean would surely be the first thing the monster devoured. He was small, and didn't have a wand to protect himself. The man and girl (woman) would hightail it out of the monster's unwavering, predatory gaze on Sean, and maybe even Apparate away. Sean definitely couldn't Apparate, so by default, he'd be the first to die. He only hoped death wouldn't be too painful.

However, his fears were rendered invalid when the front door of the castle opened easily. Sean breathed a sigh of relief. When they stepped inside, small fires detonated the tops of torches that stenciled shadows across the stone walls. Sean thought they were heading to the large marble staircase that led to the upper floors, but the man and girl (woman) turned towards the right, following the silver otter, their wands in their hands. The otter hovered in the air between a set of large doors, looking back at them, waiting.

Before going in, the man hesitated, his eyes on Sean. He then looked at the girl (woman) and said, "Maybe you should stay out here with him, just in case."

"Just in case of what, exactly?" The girl (woman) seemed irritated.

"Voldemort could be standing right inside the door!"

"Which is all the more reason for me to go with you," she insisted.

"We can't leave Sean out here alone."

"Of course we won't," she said. "He's coming with us."

"It could be dangerous," the man replied.

"We haven't run into anything so far."

Sean guessed the girl (woman) hadn't felt the presence of the monster with purple fur and a gold horn on its head. To be fair, they were pretty far away from it now, though he had been stupid enough to leave the front door of the castle open. He was sure the monster lived in the forest, and that it was fast too. (You can't run from me! I am hungry, and need to eat!)

"Besides, what if something's in there that you can't face on your own?"

Sean could see the man was struggling in letting them come with him or forcing them to stay behind. The girl (woman) looked ridiculously determined that she was going with him no matter what, and Sean couldn't help but admire her for such bravery. In fact, he also admired the man for thinking about the safety of a ten-year-old he just met.

"Fine," he relented. "But stay behind me."

4

Xenophilius heard whispers. He didn't know where they were coming from or who they belonged to, but he wasn't deaf, you know. Well, not yet at least. This made him want to giggle. Age crept up on you without suspecting that it was something that could creep up on you. Xenophilius knew all about that just fine. Peachy, even. His mind was starting to go too, but even then, one thing remained perfectly clear: the Crumple-Horned Snorkack was out to get him. And really, it was so unfair because Xenophilius still hadn't located his wand (he hadn't even moved an inch, actually), and that damned thing had a horn attached to its head. How ridiculous!

But those whispers, he thought. They weren't from the Crumple-Horned Snorkack because that creature of the Devil can't talk…at least, I don't think it can. He thought about this for longer than he should've yet he didn't believe he ever ran across anything that indicated the Crumple-Horned Snorkack could speak.

(You can't run from me! I am hungry, and need to eat!)

But if the whispers didn't belong to the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, then who did they belong to? Sure, the whispers could simply be part of a vile ruse that was meant to trick Xenophilius (My mind's starting to go! and this time, he actually did giggle), but something inside him believed it wasn't.

There were two voices he could barely make out, one that belonged to a boy and the other a girl. He didn't think it was Luna though it would be a welcome surprise if it was. After all, he hadn't seen her since she left for Hogwarts in September. Those damn Death Eaters had taken her. He supposed they locked her up in Azkaban and threw away the key (Or had the Crumple-Horned Snorkack swallow it whole?), but wasn't completely sure. Oh, how he wished she was here with him now! Then, she could help him move, get him his wand, and together, they'd fight off the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Be gone! they would say to it. Go back to the depths of hell, you despicable pet of the Devil's! Your purple fur is far too matted for me to believe that the Devil brushes you as often as he should! Be gone, and scurry back to him so you can get your fur fixed! The sight of you is just ghastly and grotesque!

Xenophilius giggled again.

Yes, that'll show that Crumple-Horned Snorkack! Oh, yes! If only Luna was here to-,

He suddenly broke off and said aloud, "It takes past noon to arrive though the night comes after. To miss the purple sun would mean imprisonment thereafter."

5

Harry stared at the silver otter before dismissing it, gently easing open the doors to the Great Hall. He didn't push them all the way open just in case Voldemort was standing just inside, ready to slaughter the first person to come through. The otter, however, having no fear of getting hit with the Killing Curse, dashed inside, leaving a railroad of silver behind it. Leading with his wand, he tiptoed into the Great Hall, finding the otter and his wand tip the only lights existing within. Bellatrix's wand was the third light, and even then, the combination was just too small to puncture the blackness that engulfed the Great Hall.

"Lumos Maxima," Harry said. A bright white orb shot out of his wand and when it hit the ceiling, it threw the Great Hall in a sudden illumination.

Quickly glancing behind the doors, Harry was relieved to find that Voldemort and his Death Eaters absent. But then, if they weren't here, where were they? The last thing he remembered before waking up in the Forest of Dean was using the Resurrection Stone and seeing his parents, Sirius, and Lupin. Then, before any words could be spoken between them…there was nothing, and Harry was in it. Hogwarts had been left in ruins, reduced to Scotland's own version of Stonehenge, and dead bodies littered the Great Hall. Yet, the castle was now fully intact, and instead of many bodies down on the floor, there was only one. He paused when he saw it, holding out his arm, barring Hermione and Sean from getting any closer to it.

He wished they had stayed outside, not wanting either of them to get hurt, or in Hermione's case, he didn't want her to get hurt any more than she already had. Hermione had been an outlaw with him over much of the past year, and was recently tortured by Bellatrix. Not only that, but Greyback had nearly pillaged her neck the same night. He certainly appreciated the fact that she stuck by his side, even when Ron had left them, and was beginning to think that he fancied her in a way. It was a small feeling at first, beginning with their trip to Godric's Hollow last Christmas Eve, but a feeling that had been growing bigger and bigger as time wore on. He wanted to tell her how he felt, though refrained from doing so as he had no idea how he'd go about it. He was rubbish at talking about his feelings. He promised himself one night some weeks ago that if he survived the final encounter with Voldemort, then he'd sit down with her and let it all out.

Sean, on the other hand, was an entirely new mystery altogether. Harry supposed he wasn't dangerous but he didn't have any idea who he was, and Sean himself didn't know who he was either. Still, he couldn't leave a ten-year-old by himself in the middle of the Forest of Dean. For Merlin's sake, he didn't have a wand and was suffering from a seemingly severe bout of amnesia. However, Harry felt weirdly protective of him, like he was his and Hermione's responsibility that they bring Sean safely back to his mum and dad…if he even had a mum and dad. But, there was something familiar about him that Harry couldn't quite put his finger on. Was it his hazel eyes, the cowlick that stood up at the back of his head, or something else entirely? It was like trying to describe someone in a thick fog: you could see them, but the details remained hidden.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked.

"It looks like…," then Harry paused. He thought the body looked familiar but couldn't believe it. "Mr Lovegood."

"What?" Hermione stepped around Harry's outstretched arm, a look of astonishment on her face. "How is this possible?"

"Dunno," Harry shrugged. "I reckon we could ask him unless-,"

"He's not," Sean interrupted, reading where Harry was going. "He's still breathing," and pointed his finger.

Hermione knelt next to him and shook him gently. "Mr Lovegood, can you wake up?" He didn't respond but continued to remain motionless, face down on the floor of the Great Hall. She tried again. "Mr Lovegood, can you hear me?" and shook him a little harder. Harry and Sean came forward as she drew Bellatrix's wand. Pointing it at the small of his back, she whispered, "Rennervate."

Mr Lovegood suddenly gasped very loudly, and Sean hopped behind Harry. He turned on his back, gasping again, and blinked his eyes open. After which, he crushed them closed as Harry thought the light above them was blinding. He muttered something incoherent and blinked his eyes open once again, though this time, shielded them with one of his hands.

"Who's there?" he asked, his voice like a squeaky mouse. He then looked around frantically, and then ran his hands through his robes. "I have my wand!" he declared, though he was still looking for it. "Yes, somewhere…somewhere I have it!"

"Mr Lovegood," Harry said. This made him still.

Looking up, Mr Lovegood looked exactly like Harry remembered him upon their last meeting: his hair was dirty and unkempt, he was slightly cross-eyed, the nightshirt he was wearing had a large stain on it, and he was barefooted.

"You!" Mr Lovegood yelled, a finger trained on Harry. His head whipped around and when he saw Hermione, he yelled again, "And you!" Then, looking around again, he found Sean, and yelled, "You, too!"

"Mr Lovegood," Hermione began, clearly unperturbed by his rather random outburst, "you know about Sean?"

"Of course I do," he said and backhanded the air.

"Who is he?"

Mr Lovegood looked at her strangely and said, "How do you not know?"

"We're trying to figure things out," Harry put in. "We all woke up in the Forest of Dean. When we remembered Hogwarts, we came here."

"And we didn't see anyone else," Hermione added.

Harry heard Sean shuffle his feet behind him.

"I don't think that's true," Mr Lovegood smiled. Harry supposed it was genuine, even if he looked like a rabid bat about take the blood of who was closest to him. In the current predicament, Hermione was just inches away. "I believe Sean, here, has seen something. Do tell us what it is."

Stepping from behind Harry, he answered a bit sullenly, "Nothing," and shook his head to confirm this.

"Stop being foolish and tell us what you've seen!" Mr Lovegood demanded. His eyes glinted greedily.

"I didn't see anything," Sean replied. "It's kind of like…I felt it."

"Felt what, you depraved child?!" Mr Lovegood screamed, his voice echoing in the Great Hall. "Felt what?"

Harry saw Sean look at him and then Hermione. He sighed heavily. "A monster…one with purple fur and a gold horn on its head."

"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack!" Mr Lovegood said at once. "Yes, I felt it too!"

"Mr Lovegood, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack doesn't exist," Hermione said, and Harry thought she tried very hard not to roll her eyes.

He pursed his lips at her. "You may have been right about Erumpent Horn that destroyed my home, but believe me when I tell you that the Crumple-Horned Snorkack is nearby…very nearby, too." He then looked around him with wide eyes as if the Crumple-Horned Snorkack was right behind him. "Where did you see it?" he asked Sean.

"I didn't see it," he repeated.

"Felt it then, silly child!" Mr Lovegood rushed him, waving his hands in the air frantically.

"Near the forest outside," Sean said.

"Oh, I knew it was close," Mr Lovegood nodded, and then giggled.

Harry shared a look with Hermione and saw that she believed what he did: Mr Lovegood had gone mad, completely and utterly mad. The last time they had met, he had been somewhat sane, but now, things have clearly changed. Yet, he didn't really know what did change.

"Mr Lovegood," Harry started, "d'you know where everyone else is? No one's around."

"I have a theory," he replied. "One that's rather obvious, actually."

"What is it?" Hermione pressed.

"I can't tell you yet," he said.

"When can you tell us then?"

"Until I am absolutely sure of it," he told them. "We need to go to a few places, and see if I am correct in my own assessment."

"Can't you tell us anything right now?" Harry asked. He needed answers because nothing was making any sense whatsoever.

"If my hypothesis is proven true, we'll need to go to the Ministry of Magic."

"Why there?" Hermione asked.

"There's a door down in the Department of Mysteries that remains locked at all times. Fools believe the Unspeakables are studying the properties of Love, drawing from a never-ending fountain of Amortentia." Mr Lovegood paused here and giggled. "But they're wrong. Amortentia isn't studied down in the Department of Mysteries, and it never was!" and he banged his fist on the floor of the Great Hall.

"Then what is studied down there?" Harry said.

Mr Lovegood turned to him, once again smiling like a rabid bat, and answered, "Now that is something you're going to have to wait to find out." He got to his feet and swayed from side to side as if he was off his trolley. "Tell me if you know what this means: It takes past noon to arrive though the night comes after. To miss the purple sun would mean imprisonment thereafter."

"Is that a riddle?" Hermione asked.

"Precisely," he confirmed. "Have any of you heard it before?"

They all told him that they hadn't.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed Chapter 1. Thanks for reading.