A Need For Memories

by aviendha15

This story is shared with SailorMartin3 with express consent.

20. Birthday Surprises

Part 20

"Birthday surprises," Sirius read out. "so, whose Birthday is it? And what's the surprise?"

Harry rolled his eyes at his Godfather's excitement. "It's Ron's birthday and I am not telling you about the surprise." He turned to share a look with Ron and, to his amazement, found him gaping at the book. His face had lost quite a bit of color. With a jolt, Harry remembered the incidents of Ron's birthday and what had exactly preceded the poisoning. He burst out laughing at the memory. He managed to control himself after a moment of mirthless laughter, noting that almost everyone was staring at him with confused, and in some cases worried looks on their faces. Hermione was the only one who had a grin etched on her face, though not one as wide as Harry's.

And Ron…Well Ron all but jumped from his seat and snatched the book away from a bewildered Sirius. His face had turned into the patent Weasley red. "We are skipping this chapter! It is not all that important. They can easily catch up at the next chapter." The last bit was for Harry, who was still laughing at Ron's antics, though with lesser intensity.

Harry leaned over and plucked the book from Ron's hand. "Of course not," he said, smoothly. "We are not skipping any chapter. We need to read every one of them. And you are getting all hyped over a tiny incident. Just chill down and let Sirius read." He handed the book over to a still confused Sirius.

"Harry…" Ron pleaded once again. He did not want to make himself look like a fool…again. But, the chances of that happening seemed to be inevitable.

Harry shook his head adamantly. "No Ron. We are reading this. What say, Mione?" He turned to look at the bushy haired girl.

"Of course, not," Hermione replied, flashing a grin at Ron. "As much as I hate the ending, I would love to read about what actually happened."

"What's going on, guys?" Remus could not help but question. 'does something happen to Ron in this chapter?"

"Nothing much," said Harry, dropping down on the couch and pulling Ron next to him. "Just a tiny mess Ron got into. He is just making it look big."

'so, me getting poisoned was just a tiny mess?" Ron growled, lowering his voice.

Harry sniggered at him. "Obviously not. But you know very well that I was referring to the "Love Potion" incident. Not, the actual poisoning."

"Ya. That was terrible," Hermione agreed, shuddering a little. Harry put his arm around her, as Ron was ignoring the two of them. "Would you please start reading, Sirius?" Sirius cleared his throat a little and started reading.

The next day Harry confided in both Ron and Hermione the task that Dumbledore had set him, though separately, for Hermione still refused to remain in Ron's presence longer than it took to give him a contemptuous look.

Ron thought that Harry was unlikely to have any trouble with Slughorn at all.

"He loves you," he said over breakfast, waving an airy forkful of fried egg. "Won't refuse you anything, will he? Not his little Potions Prince. Just hang back after class this afternoon and ask him."

"Little Potions Prince!" James snorted. "Now, that's a good title." Harry stuck out his tongue at his father.

Hermione, however, took a gloomier view.

"He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him," she said in a low voice, as they stood in the deserted, snowy courtyard at break. "Horcruxes ... Horcruxes ... I've never even heard of them ..."

"You wouldn't have," said Dumbledore. "There are no books about them in Hogwarts, in the Library to be precise." Hermione blushed a bit, remembering the books that she had taken out of Dumbledore's office.

"You haven't?" Harry was disappointed; he had hoped that Hermione might have been able to give him a clue as to what Horcruxes were.

"It was certainly one of the very few times that Hermione failed to answer my question," Harry remarked. 'she usually had an answer to everything, or at least managed to find it."

"Almost like Remus," Sirius muttered, grinning at the boy. "You would think that the Library is his most favorite room in Hogwarts, the way he rushes to it ever so often."

'shut up, Paddy," Remus growled back.

"They must be really advanced Dark magic, or why would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? I think it's going to be difficult to get the information, Harry, you'll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy ..."

"Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions this afternoon ..."

"You shouldn't have said that," said Alice. "Hermione would obviously deem the idea to be rubbish. Though to be fair, the idea actually is…was stupid." She smirked at the affronted look on Ron's face as she said this.

"Hey!"

"Oh, well, if Won-Won thinks that, you'd better do it," she said, flaring up at once. "After all, when has Won-Won's judgment ever been faulty?"

"Hermione, can't you —"

"No!" she said angrily, and stormed away, leaving Harry alone and ankle-deep in snow.

"Sorry about that," Hermione said, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't mean to flare up at you."

"You should be," said Harry, sullenly. "It wasn't my fault. And you didn't speak to me for the whole day, just because I mentioned what Ron said. Some friend you were!"

Hermione stared intently at Harry for a moment before bursting out laughing. "You have to do better than that to fool me, Harry." Everyone broke out into chuckles on noticing the pouting look that had appeared on Harry's face. He was, obviously trying to tease Hermione, who saw through this pretty easily.

Potions lessons were uncomfortable enough these days, seeing as Harry, Ron and Hermione had to share a desk. Today, Hermione moved her cauldron around the table so that she was close to Ernie, and ignored both Harry and Ron.

"What've you done?" Ron muttered to Harry, looking at Hermione's haughty profile.

But before Harry could answer, Slughorn was calling for silence from the front of the room.

"Settle down, settle down, please! Quickly, now, lots of work to get through this afternoon! Golpalott's Third Law ... who can tell me -? But Miss Granger can, of course!"

"Of course," a chorus went up in the room, causing Hermione to blush again.

"Golpalott's law…Golpalott's law…" Snape murmured to himself. "That means that you have to research antidotes to a particular poison. This lesson might not be very easy for you, Harry, seeing that you don't particularly like Potions. It is very difficult if you don't have a clear understanding of the theories behind the entire process."

Harry nodded glumly. "I found out the hard way. Though the lesson wasn't all that bad." He smirked at Hermione as he said it. "Thanks to your book, obviously." Snape gave a surprised look, but did not comment further.

Hermione recited at top speed: "Golpalott's-Third-Law- states-that-the-antidote-for-a-blended-poison-will-be-equal-to- more-than-the-sum-of-the-antidotes-for-each-of-the-separable- components."

"Precisely!" beamed Slughorn. Ten points for Gryffindor! Now, if we accept Golpalott's Third Law as true ..."

Harry was going to have to take Slughorn's word for it that Golpalott's Third Law was true, because he had not understood any of it. Nobody apart from Hermione seemed to be following what Slughorn said next, either.

"Quite a few people did get it, Harry," said Hermione, sounding exasperated. "I just couldn't be the only one."

"You were the only one, Mione," said Ron, shrugging. "Quite a few of us realized that we had to collect our poison samples, only after seeing you do it."

"Sounds terribly like our class," James remarked. "Only, it is Lily that we usually follow. Remus is bad, to say the least, when it comes to Potions Practical."

"No doubts about that," Remus murmured. "The number of cauldrons that I have managed to explode…." He trailed off reminiscently.

"... which means, of course, that assuming we have achieved correct identification of the potion's ingredients by Scarpin's Revelaspell, our primary aim is not the relatively simple one of selecting antidotes to those ingredients in and of themselves, but to find that added component which will, by an almost alchemical process, transform these disparate elements -"

Ron was sitting beside Harry with his mouth half-open, doodling absently on his new copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Ron kept forgetting that he could no longer rely on Hermione to help him out of trouble when he failed to grasp what was going on.

"At least, you did miss my presence," Hermione murmured, the words solely mean for Ron's ears.

Ron wrapped an arm around the girl and pulled her closer to him. "You can't even start to imagine how much."

Hermione kissed him softly. "I think I can," she said, remembering the time when Ron had left them.

"Stop being all lovey-dovey!" Harry muttered indignantly, purposely overlooking both Hermione's and Ron's glares.

"... and so," finished Slughorn, "I want each of you to come and take one of these phials from my desk. You are to create an antidote for the poison within it before the end of the lesson. Good luck, and don't forget your protective gloves!"

Hermione had left her stool and was halfway towards Slughorn's desk before the rest of the class had realized it was time to move, and by the time Harry, Ron and Ernie returned to the table, she had already tipped the contents of her phial into her cauldron and was kindling a fire underneath it.

"It's a shame that the Prince won't be able to help you much with this, Harry," she said brightly as she straightened up. "You have to understand the principles involved this time. No short cuts or cheats!"

"You were being rude!" Harry stated. "Though I did manage to prove you wrong."

Lily snapped around to look at her son. "You managed to find a shortcut? A way around it? Is that even possible?" Harry smirked, shrugging.

Annoyed, Harry uncorked the poison he had taken from Slughorn's desk, which was a garish shade of pink, tipped it into his cauldron and lit a fire underneath it. He did not have the faintest idea what he was supposed to do next. He glanced at Ron, who was now standing there looking rather gormless, having copied everything Harry had done.

"You sure the Prince hasn't got any tips?" Ron muttered to Harry.

Harry pulled out his trusty copy of Advanced Potion-Making and turned to the chapter on Antidotes. There was Golpalott's Third Law, stated word for word as Hermione had recited it, but not a single illuminating note in the Prince's hand to explain what it meant. Apparently the Prince, like Hermione, had had no difficulty understanding it.

"It was easy," said Snape, a little defensively, noting the "raised eyebrow's look that he was getting from all around. "And there are too many different kinds of poisons, a little difficult to make notes on all the Antidotes involved."

"Nothing," said Harry gloomily.

Hermione was now waving her wand enthusiastically over her cauldron. Unfortunately, they could not copy the spell she was doing because she was now so good at non-verbal incantations that she did not need to say the words aloud. Ernie Macmillan, however, was muttering, "specialis revelio!" over his cauldron, which sounded impressive, so Harry and Ron hastened to imitate him.

"Don't even start!" Ron and Harry chorused, noting and perfectly interpreting Hermione's look as she turned to face them indignantly.

"But 'specialis Revelio"?" she huffed. "It was a poison! What could it even reveal?" Lily groaned and put her head in her hands, breaking out into laughter at her son's choice of spell, though it wasn't exactly his choice. Quite a few others had also joined in the laughter. Harry sent a pleading look at Sirius, who took the cue and continued with the chapter. He had a fair idea what it was to be at the receiving end of "academic joke's. But this did not stop Hermione from glaring daggers at both of them.

It took Harry only five minutes to realize that his reputation as the best potion-maker in the class was crashing around his ears. Slughorn had peered hopefully into his cauldron on his first circuit of the dungeon, preparing to exclaim in delight as he usually did, and instead had with-drawn his head hastily, coughing, as the smell of bad eggs overwhelmed him. Hermione's expression could not have been any smugger; she had loathed being out-performed in every Potions class.

"I am sorry," Hermione mumbled softly, pinching Harry's cheek affectionately.

Obviously he did not think so, as he swatted her hand away with a "Don't do that!" Hermione huffed and stuck her tongue out at him.

She was now decanting the mysteriously separated ingredients of her poison into ten different crystal phials. More to avoid watching this irritating sight than anything else, Harry bent over the Half-Blood Prince's book and turned a few pages with unnecessary force.

And there it was, scrawled right across a long list of antidotes.

Just shove a bezoar down their throats.

"You actually gave Slughorn a bezoar?" Frank cried out. "And you got away with that?"

"I said I was lucky," Harry mentioned nonchalantly. "Though at times, extremely unlucky too."

"You got the best of both ends," Alice remarked.

Harry stared at these words for a moment. Hadn't he once, long ago, heard of bezoars? Hadn't Snape mentioned them in their first ever Potions lesson? "A stone taken from the stomach of a goat, which will protect from most poisons."

It was not an answer to the Golpalott problem, and had Snape still been their teacher, Harry would not have dared do it, but this was a moment for desperate measures. He hastened towards the store cupboard and rummaged within it, pushing aside unicorn horns and tangles of dried herbs until he found, at the very back, a small card box on which had been scribbled the word "Bezoar's.

He opened the box just as Slughorn called, "Two minutes left, everyone!" Inside were half a dozen shriveled brown objects, looking more like dried-up kidneys than real stones. Harry seized one put the box back in the cupboard and hurried back to his cauldron.

"You have got guts," Snape remarked, his trademark smirk in place. "Though you are not wrong. A bezoar does act as an Antidote to most of the poisons, except obviously the more complicated ones."

Frank sniggered. "You may say so now, Severus. But, I would have loved to see your reaction had Harry presented the Bezoar, when you were the Potions teacher."

Snape grimaced slightly. "Yeah. I would have probably deducted a I00 or more points from Gryffindor and given him detention for a month or something."

"No doubt about that!" the Trio said as one.

"Time's ... UP!" called Slughorn genially. "Well, let's see how you've done! Blaise ... what have you got for me?"

Slowly, Slughorn moved around the room, examining the various antidotes. Nobody had finished the task, although Hermione was trying to cram a few more ingredients into her bottle before Slughorn reached her. Ron had given up completely, and was merely trying to avoid breathing in the putrid fumes issuing from his cauldron. Harry stood there waiting, the bezoar clutched in a slightly sweaty hand.

Slughorn reached their table last. He sniffed Ernie's potion and passed on to Ron's with a grimace. He did not linger over Ron's cauldron, but backed away swiftly, retching slightly.

Ron blushed a bit at this point, throwing slightly worried glances at his to-be parents, half-expecting them to start yelling at him for his disastrous potion making. But, he was surprised to find both of them looked amused.

"And you, Harry," he said. "What have you got to show me?"

"The cheekiest thing you have ever seen," Sirius announced, loudly.

Snape chuckled. "I don't think so. With Lily in his class, he probably has a lot of practice in dealing with cheeky things and sayings. She can get away with just about anything in his class." Lily blushed red and directed a glare at the boy. Even after almost six years of schooling, she still had to put up with the old teasing of being 'sluggie's Favorite". Though, truth be told, she did not really mind it.

Harry held out his hand, the bezoar sitting on his palm.

Slughorn looked down at it for a full ten seconds. Harry wondered, for a moment, whether he was going to shout at him. Then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"Bet you anything, that he is going to make a reference to Lily flower, now," said James, laughing hard himself.

"That much is obvious," agreed Arthur. "Professor Slughorn just can't stop comparing Harry with Lily.

"You've got a nerve, boy!" he boomed, taking the bezoar and holding it up so that the class could see it. "Oh, you're like your mother ...

well, I can't fault you ... a bezoar would certainly act as an antidote to all these potions!"

Hermione, who was sweaty-faced and had soot on her nose, looked livid. Her half-finished antidote, comprising fifty-two ingredients including a chunk of her own hair, bubbled sluggishly behind Slughorn, who had eyes for nobody but Harry.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," said Harry, glancing at Hermione. "I am truly sorry about that."

Hermione gave a one-shouldered shrug. "It's alright. It wasn't that big a deal… I mean, it was. But doesn't matter too much, when put into perspective."

"Yeah, it's rather minor compared to facing and battling Death Eaters," said Ron, chuckling.

"And you thought of a bezoar all by yourself, did you, Harry?" she asked through gritted teeth.

That's the individual spirit a real potion-maker needs!" said Slughorn happily, before Harry could reply. "Just like his mother, she had the same intuitive grasp of potion-making, it's undoubtedly from Lily he gets it ... yes, Harry, yes, if you've got a bezoar to hand, of course that would do the trick ... although as they don't work on everything, and are pretty rare, it's still worth knowing how to mix antidotes ..."

The only person in the room looking angrier than Hermione was Malfoy, who, Harry was pleased to see, had spilled some-thing that looked like cat sick over himself. Before either of them could express their fury that Harry had come top of the class by not doing any work, however, the bell rang.

"Lucky…Lucky…Lucky…" Hermione chanted.

Harry grinned cheekily at her. "Or what? You would have hexed me?"

"I had half a mind to!" Hermione replied back, glaring daggers at her friend. "I just might have, if the bell hadn't run when it did."

"Nah! You wouldn't have," said Harry, reaching over to ruffle her hair, playfully. "You can hex Ron, not me."

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed. "Why can't she hex you? Merlin knows, you have deserved it often enough."

Hermione shrugged offhandedly. "I just can't. No real reason. And, he is not as much as a prat as you are. And maybe you just don't liking hexing your brother."

"Ginny never had a problem with that," Ron mumbled darkly, causing the others to chuckle loudly.

"Time to pack up!" said Slughorn. "And an extra ten points to Gryffindor for sheer cheek!" Still chuckling, he waddled back to his desk at the front of the dungeon.

Harry dawdled behind, taking an inordinate amount of time to do up his bag. Neither Ron nor Hermione wished him luck as they left; both looked rather annoyed. At last Harry and Slughorn were the only two left in the room.

"Come on, now, Harry, you'll be late for your next lesson," said Slughorn affably, snapping the gold clasps shut on his dragonskin briefcase.

"Sir," said Harry, reminding himself irresistibly of Voldemort, "I wanted to ask you something."

"Talk about Déjà vu," said Sirius. "What were you thinking, Harry? That would certainly put him on a defensive stand."

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I wasn't thinking clearly. Though, I did think that maybe shocking him would be a good idea."

"It never is," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling merrily, though Harry could decipher a flicker underneath all the twinkling. "Especially with people like Horace Slughorn, who regret their past to the point of desperation."

"Ask away, then, my dear boy, ask way…"

"Sir, I wondered what you know about ... about Horcruxes?"

Slughorn froze. His round face seemed to sink in upon itself. He licked his lips and said hoarsely, "What did you say?"

"I asked whether you know anything about Horcruxes, sir. You see - "

"Dumbledore put you up to this," whispered Slughorn.

"He would have been an idiot if he didn't realize that," Sirius huffed.

"Mr. Black," Minerva snapped. "He is your Professor! Kindly refrain from using such terms against him."

"I just used "idiot"," Sirius grumbled to James and Remus. "That equals to nothing."

"This is Professor McGonagall," said Remus, as if this explained everything.

And it did, as Sirius did not pursue the topic further.

His voice had changed completely. It was not genial any more, but shocked, terrified. He fumbled in his breast pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, mopping his sweating brow.

"Dumbledore's shown you that - that memory," said Slughorn. "Well? Hasn't he?"

"Yes," said Harry, deciding on the spot that it was best not to lie.

"That is a better decision," Remus mused. "Though, I have no idea, what else you might have said."

"Umm…School project?" Harry speculated, giving the excuse that Voldemort had once used. Or rather, the excuse Slughorn had provided for Voldemort. This caused Ron and Hermione to break out into laughter, though they muffled it, using their hands.

Alice grinned. "That is a good excuse, though it depends on what exactly "Horcruxe's are. Or else, you could always say that Hermione found the term in some book, and was curious about it. And got you curious too. That should be believable." Hermione made a face at the girl, though the idea was actually pretty good.

"Yes, of course," said Slughorn quietly, still dabbing at his white face. "Of course ... well, if you've seen that memory, Harry, you'll know that I don't know anything - anything -he repeated the word forcefully, "- about Horcruxes."

He seized his dragonskin briefcase, stuffed his handkerchief back into his pocket and marched to the dungeon door.

"Sir," said Harry desperately, "I just thought there might be a bit more to the memory -"

"Did you?" said Slughorn. Then you were wrong, weren't you? WRONG!"

"Whatever that memory contained, it must be really bad," Remus confided to the other Marauders in an undertone. "Slughorn's attitude proves as much."

"The Horcruxes must be something terribly er…dark," Lily added, having caught on the conversation. "Something major, related to Voldemort. Maybe something that is related to, or can aid, his downfall." Remus nodded, his face pulled into a frown.

He bellowed the last word and, before Harry could say another word, slammed the dungeon door behind him.

Neither Ron nor Hermione was at all sympathetic when Harry told them of this disastrous interview Hermione was still seething at the way Harry had triumphed without doing the work properly. Ron was resentful that Harry hadn't slipped him a bezoar, too.

"It would've just looked stupid if we'd both done it!" said Harry irritably. "Look, I had to try and soften him up so I could ask him about Voldemort, didn't I? Oh, will you get a grip!" he added in exasperation, as Ron winced at the sound of the name.

James shook his head at Ron in mock-frustration. "Anybody would think that you would be used o his name, after spending more than 6 years with Harry."

"I grew up, fearing him and his name," said Ron, shrugging slightly. "That means, 11 years of fear. And Harry was only one of the very few people who used his name. Even Hermione started using since our Fifth year. I tried to, but maybe I just wasn't…brave enough to."

Harry made an annoyed sound in his throat. "It has nothing to do with bravery Ron, as you well know. I was brought up in the Muggle World, and even though I knew that my pa…parents were k…killed by Voldemort, saying his name didn't make any difference to me." He smiled sadly at his parents. Even now, it was hard to speak of his parents' death. Or of anyone's death, in general. Except maybe Voldemort's and his Death Eaters'.

Infuriated by his failure and by Ron and Hermione's attitudes, Harry brooded for the next few days over what to do next about Slughorn. He decided that, for the time being, he would let Slughorn think that he had forgotten all about Horcruxes; it was surely best to lull him into a false sense of security before returning to the attack.

When Harry did not question Slughorn again, the Potions master reverted to his usual affectionate treatment of him, and appeared to have put the matter from his mind. Harry awaited an invitation to one of his little evening parties, determined to accept this time, even if he had to reschedule Quidditch practice. Unfortunately, however, no such invitation arrived. Harry checked with Hermione and Ginny: neither of them had received an invitation and nor, as far as they knew, had anybody else. Harry could not help wondering whether this meant that Slughorn was not quite as forgetful as he appeared, simply determined to give Harry no additional opportunities to question him.

"Horace is not a Slytherin for nothing, Harry," said Dumbledore. "He probably knew that you were waiting for him to lower his guard."

"I kept forgetting that he was one," said Harry, grimacing. "He was rather different than most of them... Cut that out. He was different than all of them."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "None of the Slytherins we knew actually liked and praised Gryffindors…or any other houses for that matter."

Meanwhile, the Hogwarts library had failed Hermione for the first lime in living memory. She was so shocked; she even forgot that she was annoyed at Harry for his trick with the bezoar, "I haven't found one single explanation of what Horcruxes do!" she told him. "Not a single one! I've been right through the restricted section and even in the most horrible books, where they tell you how to brew the most gruesome potions -nothing! All I could find was this, in the introduction to Magick Most Evil — listen — "of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction" ... I mean, why mention it, then?" she said impatiently, slamming the old book shut; it let out a ghostly wail.

"Now that is funny," Frank murmured. "The Hogwarts library has information about everything…absolutely everything."

Dumbledore shared a speculative look with Harry. "The Hogwarts library had information on Horcruxes, Mr. Longbottom. But, I had the books removed when I was appointed as the Headmaster. Horcruxes are something that no student should know or be concerned about. Though, I guess I had to make an exception in case of Harry, Ron and Hermione. And now you all."

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, stuffing it back into her bag.

The snow melted around the school as February arrived, to be replaced by cold, dreary wetness. Purplish-grey clouds hung low over the castle and a constant fall of chilly rain made the lawns slippery and muddy. The upshot of this was that the sixth-year's first Apparition lesson, which was scheduled for a Saturday morning so that no normal lessons would be missed, took place in the Great Hall instead of in the grounds.

"Thank goodness," said Molly. "It's not very good for the kids to be out in the cold." The Trio snickered softy at Molly's motherly tone. Trust Molly to be anxious about them catching a cold, when there were worse problems around.

When Harry and Hermione arrived in the Hall (Ron had come down with Lavender) they found that the tables had disappeared. Rain lashed against the high windows and the enchanted ceiling swirled darkly above them as they assembled in front of Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout - the Heads of House - and a small wizard whom Harry took to be the Apparition Instructor from the Ministry. He was oddly colorless, with transparent eyelashes, wispy hair and an insubstantial air, as though a single gust of wind might blow him away. Harry wondered whether constant disappearances and reappearances had somehow diminished his substance or whether this frail build was ideal for anyone wishing to vanish.

"Has anyone ever informed you, that you think about rubbish stuff?" said Hermione, adopting an exasperated voice.

Harry grinned cheekily. "Yeah. You did." Hermione huffed at him.

"Good morning," said the Ministry wizard, when all the students had arrived and the Heads of House had called for quiet. "My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time -"

"Malfoy, be quiet and pay attention!" barked Professor McGonagall.

Everybody looked round. Malfoy had flushed a dull pink; he looked furious as he stepped away from Crabbe, with whom he appeared to have been having a whispered argument.

"That is strange," Sirius muttered, looking up from the book. "From what I know of Malfoys…any of them…they do not argue with their friends; if we can call them that; in public. Young Malfoy seems to have something on his mind."

"Well, he did," said Harry, raising a surprised eyebrow at Sirius. "He is doing…something for Voldemort."

Sirius shook his head. "I know that. I meant that he has something on his mind related to his friends. Though, most probably they are working for him. He would need his friends if he is planning something elaborate, especially in Hogwarts."

Snape smirked at him. "Wow! You are capable of logical thinking, Bl…Sirius. Though I did try my best to believe otherwise." Sirius threw a look of mock-hurt at him, which was laughed off.

Harry glanced quickly at Snape, who also looked annoyed, though Harry strongly suspected that this was less because of Malfoy's rudeness than the fact that McGonagall had reprimanded one of his house.

"- by which time, many of you may be ready to take your test,"

Twycross continued, as though there had been no interruption.

"As you may know, it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The Headmaster has lifted this enchantment, purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practice. May I emphasize that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try.

"I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you."

There was a great scrambling and jostling as people separated, banged into each other, and ordered others out of their space. The Heads of House moved among the students, marshalling them into position and breaking up arguments.

"Hogwarts students can certainly pick Arguments, absolutely anywhere," said Minerva, a disapproving tone coloring her voice. "All they need is some space and students from other houses."

"Especially if you put Gryffindors and Slytherins together," said Sirius slyly. "I think, the time that we have spent in this room, is the longest that we have spent without picking a fight with a Slytherin, in the presence of one."

"Especially me!" Snape pointed out.

"Harry, where are you going?" demanded Hermione.

But Harry did not answer; he was moving quickly through the crowd, past the place where Professor Flitwick was making squeaky attempts to position a few Ravenclaws, all of whom wanted to be near the front, past Professor Sprout, who was chivvying the Hufflepuffs into line, until, by dodging around Ernie Macmillan, he managed to position himself right at the back of the crowd, directly behind Malfoy, who was taking advantage of the general upheaval to continue his argument with Crabbe, standing five feet away and looking mutinous.

"You wanted to spy on Malfoy again?" questioned Lily. "I thought that maybe you would let go of it now."

"Not Harry," said Ron, grinning at his best friend. "His curiosity knows no bounds. Even after the countless times that we got into trouble because of it, it still makes no difference. Curiosity is second nature to Harry. If given half a chance, he would happily spy on Voldemort himself." Harry punched his friend lightly on the arm, grimacing at the looks of worry that crossed his parent's faces.

"I don't know how much longer, all right?" Malfoy shot at him, oblivious to Harry standing right behind him. "It's taking longer than I thought it would."

Crabbe opened his mouth, but Malfoy appeared to second-guess what he was going to say.

"Look, it's none of your business what I'm doing, Crabbe, you and Goyle just do as you're told and keep a lookout!"

"I tell my friends what I'm up to, if I want them to keep a lookout for me," Harry said, just loud enough for Malfoy to hear him.

"You have a Death wish!" Snape announced. "And in this regard, your son is exactly like you." This he informed to James, who smiled proudly.

"I couldn't resist getting a rise out of him," Harry confessed, grinning sheepishly. "Though, I was also hoping that he might blurt out something important."

Malfoy spun round on the spot, his hand flying to his wand, but at that precise moment the four Heads of House shouted, "Quiet!" and silence fell again. Malfoy turned slowly to face the front.

"Thank you," said Twycross. "Now then ..."

He waved his wand. Old-fashioned wooden hoops instantly appeared on the floor in from of every student.

"The important things to remember when Apparating are the three Ds!" said Twycross. "Destination, Determination, Deliberation!

"Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination," said Twycross. "In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now."

Everybody looked around furtively, to check that everyone else was staring into their hoop, then hastily did as they were told. Harry gazed at the circular patch of dusty floor enclosed by his hoop and tried hard to think of nothing else. This proved impossible; as he couldn't stop puzzling over what Malfoy was doing that needed lookouts.

"No wonder you suck at Occlumency," Hermione murmured to Harry. "You can't concentrate at all."

Harry smirked at her. "I thought you knew this for ages. Though I regret not taking Occlumency seriously, I really doubt if I would have ever managed to master that. Even if someone, other than Snape, had taught me."

"Step two," said Twycross, "focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!"

Harry glanced around surreptitiously. A little way to his left, Ernie Macmillan was contemplating his hoop so hard that his face had turned pink; it looked as though he was straining to lay a Quaffle-sized egg. Harry bit back a laugh and hastily returned his gaze to his own hoop.

"Step three," called Twycross, "and only when I give the command ... turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation. On my command, now ... one-

Harry glanced around again; lots of people were looking positively alarmed at being asked to Apparate so quickly. Harry tried to fix his thoughts on his hoop again; he had already forgotten what the three Ds stood for.

"That's stupid," Sirius spoke out. "Why is he going on and on about the idiotic, stupid, three Ds? That's totally, completely useless."

"They need to know about them to learn Apparating, Sirius," Remus explained slowly, his eyes showing the confusion he felt. He would have though the reason to be obvious. Too much so.

Sirius rolled his eyes at the sandy haired boy. "I know that, Moony. But, wouldn't it be much less confusing to just tell them to concentrate hard on where they wished to Apparate to, and just try and move there. All these stuff about "The 3 D's" could certainly confuse the kids."

Minerva directed an appraising graze on Sirius. "I never thought that I would say this, but you might just make a good teacher, Mr. Black. You have a way of simplifying things. The students would love that." Sirius visibly blanched at Minerva's idea, while the other Marauders gave rein to their barely concealed laughter. It was a well known fact that Sirius considered teachers to be the bane of his existence and to be informed that he would make a good teacher himself did nothing to uplift Sirius Black's mood. Though he did not mention any of this to Minerva, choosing to keep it in. After all, he respected the Transfiguration teacher, though he would never, ever admit it. He snapped out of his musings and continued with the chapter.

- THREE!"

Harry spun on the spot lost his balance and nearly fell over. He was not the only one. The whole Hall was suddenly full of staggering people; Neville was flat on his back; Ernie Macmillan, on the other hand, had done a kind of pirouetting leap into his hoop and looked momentarily thrilled, until he caught sight ofDean Thomas roaring with laughter at him.

This set off most of the people in the room, as they too burst out laughing at the mental image of the incident.

"That sounds like something Prongsie would do," said Remus.

"Would not," said James, pouting, but the effect was lost as he was still crackling with laughter.

"Never mind, never mind," said Twycross dryly, who did not seem to have expected anything better. "Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions ..."

The second attempt was no better than the first. The third was just as bad. Not until the fourth did anything exciting happen. There was a horrible screech of pain and everybody looked around, terrified, to see Susan Bones of Hufflepuff wobbling in her hoop with her left leg still standing five feet away where she had started.

"Oh dear me!" Molly murmured, worriedly. "She has splinched herself."

"She should be okay," said Lily. "The Heads of the houses are right there. And Splinching is a part of Apparating. You just can't help but face it at times."

The Heads of House converged on her; there was a great bang and a puff of purple smoke, which cleared to reveal Susan sobbing, reunited with her leg but looking horrified.

"Thank god!" Alice murmured.

"Splinching, or the separation of random body parts," said Wilkie Twycross dispassionately, "occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continually upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation ... thus."

Twycross stepped forwards, turned gracefully on the spot with his arms outstretched and vanished in a swirl of robes, reappearing at the back of the Hall. "Remember the three Ds," he said, "and try again ... one -two - three -"

But an hour later, Susan's Splinching was still the most interesting thing that had happened. Twycross did not seem discouraged. Fastening his cloak at his neck, he merely said, "Until next Saturday, everybody, and do not forget: Destination. Determination. Deliberation."

"I have to agree with Sirius," said Snape, a look of distaste on his face. "Those "Three D's" are getting irksome. Sounds terribly like some stupid formula."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, it was a formula of sorts. It was alright if you could just simplify it a little in your head."

"Alright for you," said Ron in a matter-of-fact tone. "You are Hermione Granger. It wasn't so simple for us." Hermione glared a little at him.

With that, he waved his wand, Vanishing the hoops, and walked out of the Hall accompanied by Professor McGonagall. Talk broke out at once as people began moving towards the Entrance Hall.

"How did you do?" asked Ron, hurrying towards Harry. "I think I felt something the last time I tried - a kind of tingling in my feet."

"I expect your trainers are too small, Won-Won," said a voice behind them, and Hermione stalked past, smirking.

"That was low, Mione," Harry informed her in a low voice. "Ron actually thought that you made fun of his…his…well you know…the fact that he didn't have enough money to replace his trainers or something."

"I didn't mean anything like that," said Hermione, looking and sounding confounded. "I just said it out of spite. I didn't really think."

"Thanks a lot, mate," Ron snapped at Harry, having over-heard their conversation. For obvious reasons he had not wanted Hermione to know about that bit of information. "It doesn't matter, love." This was directed at Hermione. "I thought along those lines for just a little while. I knew you didn't mean anything stupid." It wasn't exactly the truth; it was a half-truth. But still, there was no need for Hermione to know about that.

"Even so, I am sorry," said Hermione, seeing through his lie, easily. She pulled him into a tight hug. After all, they weren't friends for nothing. And that too, for such a long time.

"I didn't feel anything," said Harry, ignoring this interruption. "But I don't care about that now-"

"What d'you mean, you don't care ... don't you want to learn to Apparate?" said Ron incredulously.

"I'm not fussed, really. I prefer flying," said Harry, glancing over his shoulder to see where Malfoy was, and speeding up as they came into the Entrance Hall. "Look, hurry up, will you, there's something I want to do ..."

Perplexed, Ron followed Harry back to Gryffindor Tower at a run. They were temporarily detained by Peeves, who had jammed a door on the fourth floor shut and was refusing to let anyone pass until they set fire to their own pants, but Harry and Ron simply turned back and took one of their trusted short cuts. Within five minutes, they were climbing through the portrait hole.

"That's why we should know the shortcuts," James commented, looking at Lily with an "I was right" grin. It was common knowledge that Lily did not like the Marauder's marauding.

"I have to agree," Lily murmured, a little hesitantly. "It is certainly better than having to set your own pants on fire."

"Which, by the way, is a great prank idea," Sirius commented, his eyes flashing with excitement. But it dimmed considerably when he noticed the partly-forgotten existence of Minerva McGonagall in the room, who was pinning him with a fierce stare.

"Make sure that I never hear about such a prank, Mr. Black. Or you might just end up with detentions for the rest of the year. You and your other companions." Sirius gulped audibly, while the others, including the other Marauders, burst out laughing.

"Are you going to tell me what we're doing, then?" asked Ron, panting slightly.

"Up here," said Harry, and he crossed the common room and led the way through the door to the boy's staircase. Their dormitory was, as Harry had hoped, empty. He flung open his trunk and began to rummage in it, while Ron watched impatiently.

"Harry ..."

"Malfoy's using Crabbe and Goyle as lookouts. He was arguing with Crabbe just now. I want to know ... aha."

He had found it, a folded square of apparently blank parchment, which he now smoothed out and tapped with the tip of his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good ... or Malfoy is."

"The Marauder's Map!" chorused the Marauders, with proud looks on their faces.

At once, the Marauder's Map appeared on the parchment's surface. Here was a detailed plan of every one of the castle's floors and, moving around it, the tiny, labeled black dots that signified each of the castle's occupants.

"Help me find Malfoy," said Harry urgently. He laid the map upon his bed and he and Ron leaned over it, searching.

"We can try and charm the map to obey voice commands," Remus murmured to his friends. "It will make the task of finding someone much easier. At times, the number of dots seems to be overwhelming."

James stroked his chin thoughtfully. "That is a great idea, Moony. An advanced version of the map would be dead useful."

"Though it might take a fair amount of work and research," Sirius pointed out. "Still, it will be worth it, I guess."

"There!" said Ron, after a minute or so. "He's in the Slytherin common room, look ... with Parkinson and Zabini and Crabbe and Goyle ..."

Harry looked down at the map, disappointed, but rallied almost at once. "Well, I'm keeping an eye on him from now on," he said firmly. "And the moment I see him lurking somewhere with Crabbe and Goyle keeping watch outside, it'll be on with the old Invisibility Cloak and off to find out what he's-"

"A true Marauder's heir," said James proudly. "Though, you are not into pranking. You three would have made a brilliant prank team."

"We never seemed to have time for pranks," replied Harry, grinning. "We were always in some trouble or the other."

"With the troubles that you three get into, I almost wish that I just had another team of Marauders on my hands," said Minerva. "At least, you wouldn't have faced anything life-threatening."

He broke off as Neville entered the dormitory, bringing with him a strong smell of singed material, and began rummaging in his trunk for a fresh pair of pants.

Despite his determination to catch Malfoy out, Harry had no luck at all over the next couple of weeks. Although he consulted the map as often as he could, sometimes making unnecessary visits to the bathroom between lessons to search it, he did not once see Malfoy anywhere suspicious. Admittedly, he spotted Crabbe and Goyle moving around the castle on their own more often than usual, sometimes remaining stationary in deserted corridors, but at these times Malfoy was not only nowhere near them, but impossible to locate on the map at all. This was most mysterious. Harry toyed with the possibility that Malfoy was actually leaving the school grounds, but could not see how he could be doing it, given the very high level of security now operating within the castle.

"You might be missing him out," Snape remarked, thoughtfully. "Though, seems to be too much of a coincidence."

"He could be going somewhere that is not on the map," said Frank. "Someplace that might be unplottable or something. Like this room."

"That is possible," Remus agreed. "We tried to pen down the whole of Hogwarts, but we might have missed a place or two, even excluding this room. After all, I am quite sure that absolutely no one knows all the secrets of this place."

He could only suppose that he was missing Malfoy amongst the hundreds of tiny black dots upon the map. As for the fact that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle appeared to be going their different ways when they were usually inseparable, these things happened as people got older - Ron and Hermione, Harry reflected sadly, were living proof.

"We were just having a fight, Harry," said Hermione exasperatedly. "We were far from going on our separate ways. We would have made up, sooner or later."

Harry huffed indignantly. "The prospect didn't seem so bright at that time. In fact, it was far from it."

February moved towards March with no change in the weather except that it became windy as well as wet. To general indignation, a sign went up on all common-room notice boards that the next trip into Hogsmeade had been cancelled. Ron was furious.

"It was on my birthday!" he said, "I was looking forward to that!"

"Not a big surprise, though, is it?" said Harry. "Not after what happened to Katie."

She had still not returned from St Mungo's. What was more; further disappearances had been reported in the Daily Prophet, including several relatives of students at Hogwarts.

"It is the same scenario as of now," said Arthur sadly. "Every other day brings news of disappearances, deaths and torture. There is an environment of uncertainty, lurking everywhere."

"But now all I've got to look forward to is stupid Apparition!" said Ron grumpily. "Big birthday treat ..."

Three lessons on, Apparition was proving as difficult as ever, though a few more people had managed to Splinch themselves. Frustration was running high and there was a certain amount of ill-feeling towards Wilkie Twycross and his three Ds, which had inspired a number of nicknames for him, the politest of which were Dog-breath and Dung-head.

"He deserved them." both Sirius and James announced. "He could have tried to make the lesson interesting." There were nods of approval from most of the other people in the room.

"Happy birthday, Ron," said Harry, when they were woken on the first of March by Seamus and Dean leaving noisily for breakfast. "Have a present."

"Happy birthday!" The Marauders chorused, making Ron turn a little red.

It was a bit weird that they were wishing the "book Ron" a happy birthday. At least, they didn't burst out, singing the Birthday song or something. That would have bordered on being terribly embarrassing.

He threw the package across on to Ron's bed, where it joined a small pile of them that must, Harry assumed, have been delivered by house-elves in the night.

"Cheers," said Ron drowsily, and as he ripped off the paper Harry got out of bed, opened his own trunk and began rummaging in it for the Marauder's Map, which he hid after every use. He turned out half the contents of his trunk before he found it hiding beneath the rolled-up socks in which he was still keeping his bottle of lucky potion, Felix Felicis.

"Right," he murmured, taking it back to bed with him, tapping it quietly and murmuring, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," so that Neville, who was passing the foot of his bed at the time, would not hear.

"Nice one, Harry!" said Ron enthusiastically, waving the new pair of Quidditch Keeper's gloves Harry had given him.

"Thoughtful gift," James complemented his son. "Though, anything to do with Quidditch always makes a great gift. Especially for someone who loves the game."

"I would never understand the extreme love that boys have for Quidditch,"

Lily groaned. "They are desperate about the game."

"Not just boys, Mum," Harry pointed out. "That same could be said about some girls. Ginny, for one, is desperate about Quidditch as much as, any of us are. Even more than us, at times." Harry turned to glance at Ron, feeling sure that he would take up on this comment. But, he was surprised to see him glaring at the book in Sirius's hand. Harry remembered (again) that, the unfortunate (or fortunate, depends on how you look at it) incident with the love potion had occurred on Ron's birthday. He could not help but smirk at the boy, who dealt him one of his death glares.

Molly noticed the interaction between the two boys and questioned her son worriedly, "Did something happen on your Birthday? Was that why you didn't want to let us read this chapter? Was it something bad or plain stupid?"

"Both," Hermione replied for Ron. "The thing itself was stupid, but…I guess…the consequence was bad. Could have been deadly." This she said to herself. An even more worried Molly hastily gestured Sirius to continue reading.

"No problem," said Harry absent-mindedly, as he searched the Slytherin dormitory closely for Malfoy.

"Hey, I don't think he's in his bed…"

Ron did not answer; he was too busy unwrapping presents, every now and then letting out an exclamation of pleasure.

"Seriously good haul this year!" he announced, holding up a heavy gold watch with odd symbols around the edge and tiny moving stars instead of hands. "See what Mum and Dad got me? Blimey, I think I'll come of age next year too...

"Mrs. Potter presented me with my "coming-of-age" watch," Sirius murmured, a tinge of sadness coloring his tone. "My parents conveniently ignored it."

James threw an arm over his best mate's shoulder. "Don't fret about them, mate. My mother loves you more than she loves me. And that's saying something." he said good-naturedly.

Sirius's face cleared up a little. "That's true. After all, no one can resist the charms of Sirius Black. More so, next to a specky git like you." James smacked him on the head, rolling his eyes at him.

"Cool," muttered Harry, sparing the watch a glance before peering more closely at the map. Where was Malfoy? He did not seem to be at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, eating breakfast ... he was nowhere near Snape, who was sitting in his study ... he wasn't in any of the bathrooms or in the hospital wing ...

"Want one?" said Ron thickly, holding out a box of Chocolate Cauldrons.

"Just a sec," Snape said, putting his hand up to stop Sirius from reading further. "Did Ron say Chocolate Cauldrons? Were they a part of the Birthday gifts or was it the old one?" Though, most of the faces held questioning looks, comprehension was drawing on a few.

"They were the old ones," Harry confirmed, laughing mirthlessly.

Snape visibly grimaced. "No wonder, he was so reluctant to let us read the chapter. I don't think he wished to consume a love potion, especially one that has been given by Romilda Vane."

"What?" quite a few people cried out.

"Poor dear." Molly groaned, fixing her son with a pitying glance.

Ron turned even redder, if that was possible. "It was a little stupid of me to eat those. But, I didn't expect Harry to preserve those chocolates. And I didn't even know about them, in the first place."

Harry gave his friend a sheepish grin. "I forgot about them. Sorry, mate." Ron huffed but managed a return grin.

"No, thanks," said Harry, looking up. "Malfoy's gone again!"

"Can't have done," said Ron, stuffing a second Cauldron into his mouth as he slid out of bed to get dressed. "Come on. if you don't hurry up you'll have to Apparate on an empty-stomach ... might make it easier, I suppose ..."

Ron looked thoughtfully at the box of Chocolate Cauldrons then shrugged and helped himself to a third.

"You are increasing the amount of potion in your system," said Snape, a little worriedly. Though, he was more worried about Harry than Ron. "The more the quantity of the potion, the more will be the effect."

Harry tapped the map with his wand, muttered, "Mischief managed," though it hadn't been, and got dressed, thinking hard. There had to be an explanation for Malfoy's periodic disappearances, but he simply could not think what it could be. The best way of finding out would be to tail him, but even with the Invisibility Cloak this was an impractical idea; he had lessons, Quidditch practice, homework and Apparition; he could not follow Malfoy around school all day without his absence being remarked upon,

"Ready?" he said to Ron.

He was halfway to the dormitory door when he realized that Ron had not moved, but was leaning on his bedpost, staring out of the rain-washed window with a strangely unfocused look on his face.

"Uh oh!" said Sirius, smirking. "The potion has started taking effect."

"Do I want to know how you know the effects of a love potion so well?" Lily questioned, throwing suspicious looks at the team of Marauders.

"We researched," said James, shrugging casually. "We thought of using it for a prank, but the effects didn't sound good. In fact, some of them sounded positively dangerous. After all, obsessive love could be dangerous."

"You guys actually think before executing your pranks?" Alice queried, sounding surprised. "I thought that you just went about with the pranks."

Remus grinned. "No, we usually think about the stuff that we do. Or else we would have spent every day, literally, in detention."

"And believe it or not, Remus is the one who fine tunes our plans," Sirius supplied. "He makes them…what you call it…ya foolproof."

"Ron? Breakfast."

"I'm not hungry,"

Harry stared at him.

"I thought you just said -?"

Well, all right, I'll come down with you," sighed Ron, "but I don't want to eat."

"Did they have to quote my every word?" Ron moaned, placing his head in his hands once again.

"Don't know what you are complaining about, mate," Harry said sarcastically. "They have penned down all my bloody thoughts too. At least you are spared that." Ron looked positively alarmed at the mention of his thoughts being written down in a book and did not comment further.

Harry scrutinized him suspiciously. "You've just eaten half a box of Chocolate Cauldrons, haven't you?"

"It's not that," Ron sighed again. "You ... you wouldn't understand."

"Fair enough," said Harry, albeit puzzled, as he turned to open the door.

"Harry!" said Ron suddenly.

"What?"

"Harry, I can't stand it!"

"You can't stand what?" asked Harry, now starting to feel definitely alarmed. Ron was rather pale and looked as though he was about to be sick.

"Poor Harry!" Lily muttered, trying to keep her chuckles in check but failing miserably.

Sirius snorted derisively. "At least Ron has a reason for talking nonsense. Moony and I are subjected to this nonsense almost every day by Prongs. And the days when you tell him off or hex him…they are pure disaster." Lily blushed heavily while James threw a dirty look at Sirius and also one at Remus, for good measure.

"I can't stop thinking about her!" said Ron hoarsely.

Harry gaped at him. He had not expected this and was not sure he wanted to hear it. Friends they might be, but if Ron started calling Lavender "Lav-Lav", he would have to put his foot down.

Most of the people in the room burst out laughing at Harry's thoughts. Even Ron could not help seeing the humor.

"Why does that stop you having breakfast?" Harry asked, trying to inject a note of common sense into the proceedings.

"I don't think she knows I exist," said Ron with a desperate gesture.

"She definitely knows you exist," said Harry, bewildered. "She keeps snogging you, doesn't she?"

"Way to state the obvious, Harry," said Hermione, rolling her eyes at him.

Harry blanched. "It didn't seem obvious to me. I was almost sure that Ron had lost his mind or something. Anybody will, if they hear their best mate talk like that."

Ron blinked. "Who are you talking about?"

"Who are you talking about?" said Harry, with an increasing sense that all reason had dropped out of the conversation.

"Romilda Vane," said Ron softly, and his whole face seemed to illuminate as he said it, as though hit by a ray of purest sunlight.

They stared at each other for almost a whole minute, before Harry said, "This is a joke, right? You're joking."

"Bad approach, Harry," said Snape. "Love Potion can turn someone…umm…violent."

"Found that the hard way," replied Harry, grimacing slightly.

"I think ... Harry, I think I love her," said Ron in a strangled voice.

"OK," said Harry, walking up to Ron to get a better look at the glazed eyes and the pallid complexion, "OK ... say that again with a straight face."

"I love her," repeated Ron breathlessly. "Have you seen her hair, it's all black and shiny and silky ... and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her -"

"This is really funny and everything," said Harry impatiently, "but joke's over, all right? Drop it."

He turned to leave; he had got two steps towards the door when a crashing blow hit him on the right ear.

"Ouch!"

"You didn't have to hit him, Ron," Molly scolded lightly. "Though, I don't think I can blame you. You didn't know what you were doing."

"Yeah. Nevertheless, I am sorry for that, mate," said Ron, grinning apologetically at his friend. Harry waved off his apology. After all, as Molly said, Ron didn't know what he was doing at that time.

Staggering, he looked round. Ron's fist was drawn right back, his face was contorted with rage; he was about to strike again. Harry reacted instinctively; his wand was out of his pocket and the incantation sprang to mind without conscious thought: Levicorpus!

"A sensible spell," Dumbledore remarked. "Especially if you wanted to restrict him as well as get some answers."

Ron yelled as his heel was wrenched upwards once more; he dangled helplessly, upside-down, his robes hanging off him.

"What was that for?" Harry bellowed.

"You insulted her, Harry! You said it was a joke!" shouted Ron, who was slowly turning purple in the face as all the blood rushed to his head.

"Don't keep him dangling for too long, Harry," Hermione whispered. It seemed that she was talking to herself.

Harry, however, could not resist teasing her. "You are talking to a book, Mione. All this has already happened. And Ron was not harmed. At least, not due to my spell." Hermione blushed heavily. She hadn't meant for Harry to overhear her. At least he didn't announce it to the whole room.

Harry smirked at the blushing girl, but did not tease her further.

"This is insane!" said Harry. "What's got into -?"

And then he saw the box lying open on Ron's bed and the truth hit him with the force of a stampeding troll. "Where did you get those Chocolate Cauldrons?"

"They were a birthday present!" shouted Ron, revolving slowly in midair as he struggled to get free. "I offered you one, didn't I?"

"You just picked them up off the floor, didn't you?"

"They'd fallen off my bed, all right? Let me go!"

"They didn't fall off your bed, you prat, don't you understand? They were mine, I chucked them out of my trunk when I was looking for the map. They're the Chocolate Cauldrons Romilda gave me before Christmas and they're all spiked with love potion!"

But only one word of this seemed to have registered with Ron. "Romilda?" he repeated. 'did you say Romilda? Harry - do you know her? Can you introduce me?"

"You got it bad," James said, laughing hilariously. "Just imagine if you actually met Romilda Vane in this state."

Ron groaned. "I might have just had to leave Hogwarts. Nobody would have allowed me to live it down."

Harry stared at the dangling Ron, whose face now looked tremendously hopeful, and fought a strong desire to laugh.

"Prat!" Ron murmured.

A part of him - the part closest to his throbbing right ear - was quite keen on the idea of letting Ron down and watching him run amok until the effects of the potion wore off...

"You actually thought of that," Ron glared at his friend, disbelievingly.

Harry grinned awkwardly. "Sorry. It was just a "one-moment" thought. And I didn't do anything like that, did I?" Ron had to agree that Harry had a point.

but on the other hand, they were supposed to be friends, Ron had not been himself when he had attacked, and Harry thought that he would deserve another punching if he permitted Ron to declare undying love for Romilda Vane.

"Yeah, I'll introduce you," said Harry, thinking fast. "I'm going to let you down now, OK?"

He sent Ron crashing back to the floor (his ear did hurt quite a lot), but Ron simply bounded to his feet again, grinning.

"The intensity of the Potion is frightening," said Alice, shuddering a little. "It seemingly wipes out every thought from your head, just leaving behind the obsession."

"That's why Love Potions are considered dangerous," Dumbledore explained. "Prolonged use can cause irreparable damage. It creates a sense of obsessive love, which wipes out every other thought from your head. It can even compel someone to commit grievous crimes, such as torture and murder."

"She'll be in Slughorn's office," said Harry confidently, leading the way to the door.

"Why will she be in there?" asked Ron anxiously, hurrying to keep up.

"Oh, she has extra Potions lessons with him," said Harry, inventing wildly.

"That was quick thinking, Harry," said Lily, sounding impressed. "Professor Slughorn would be able to provide the antidote."

"That seemed to be the only solution," said Harry.

"And Harry has always been a good handler of panic situations," Ron commented.

"Maybe I could ask if I can have them with her?" said Ron eagerly.

"Great idea," said Harry. Lavender was waiting beside the portrait hole, a complication Harry had not foreseen.

"You're late, Won-Won!" she pouted. "I've got you a birthday…"

"Leave me alone;" said Ron impatiently, "Harry's going to introduce me to Romilda Vane."

And without another word to her, he pushed his way out of the portrait hole. Harry tried to make an apologetic face to Lavender, but it might have turned out simply amused, because she looked more offended than ever as the Fat Lady swung shut behind them.

"Actually she did think that you were mocking her," Ron supplied. "To be precise, she thought that you were "helping Hermione". Both Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes, obviously at "an absent" Lavender.

Harry had been slightly worried that Slughorn might be at breakfast, but he answered his office door at the first knock, wearing a green velvet dressing-gown and matching nightcap and looking rather bleary-eyed.

"Harry," he mumbled. "This is very early for a call ... I generally sleep late on a Saturday ..."

"Professor, I'm really sorry to disturb you," said Harry as quietly as possible, while Ron stood on tiptoe, attempting to see past Slughorn into his room, "but my friend Ron's swallowed a love potion by mistake. You couldn't make him an antidote, could you? I'd take him to Madam Pomfrey, but we're not supposed to have anything from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and, you know ... awkward questions ..."

"Nah. She wouldn't have," Sirius remarked. "She has seen too many seen too many weird things with us. And she never questions too much."

"And she never tells on you," Snape added.

"I'd have thought you could have whipped him up a remedy, Harry, an expert potioneer like you?" asked Slughorn.

"Er," said Harry, somewhat distracted by the fact that Ron was now elbowing him in the ribs in an attempt to force his way into the room, "well, I've never mixed an antidote for a love potion, sir, and by the time I get it right Ron might've done something serious -"

Helpfully, Ron chose this moment to moan, "I can't see her. Harry - is he hiding her?"

"Was this potion within date?" asked Slughorn, now eyeing Ron with professional interest. "They can strengthen, you know, the longer they're kept."

"That would explain a lot," panted Harry, now positively wrestling with Ron to keep him from knocking Slughorn over. "It's his Birthday, Professor," he added imploringly.

"You should have let him knock over Slughorn," said James, with an evil grin. "That might have compelled him to take Ron seriously."

Ron looked weirdly at James. "Then, I guess, I should be thankful to whatever god there is, that Harry is my friend and not you. Something like that would have cost me a whole year's worth of detentions." James pouted a little, but did not comment. Though it did not stop the other Marauders from sniggering at their friend.

"Oh, all right, come in, then, come in," said Slughorn, relenting. "I've got the necessary here in my bag; it's not a difficult antidote ..."

Ron burst through the door into Slughorn's overheated, crowded study, tripped over a tasseled footstool, regained his balance by seizing Harry around the neck and muttered, "She didn't see that, did she?"

"She's not here yet," said Harry, watching Slughorn opening his potion kit and adding a few pinches of this and that to a small crystal bottle.

"That's good," said Ron fervently. "How do I look?"

"Very handsome," said Slughorn smoothly, handing Ron a glass of clear liquid.

"Very, very handsome," Hermione whispered in Ron's ears, causing him to turn scarlet.

"Now drink that up, it's a tonic for the nerves, keep you calm when she arrives, you know."

"Brilliant," said Ron eagerly, and he gulped the antidote down noisily.

Harry and Slughorn watched him. For a moment, Ron beamed at them. Then, very slowly, his grin sagged and vanished, to be replaced by an expression of utmost horror.

Ron grimaced, remembering the feelings from back then. "I thought that I wouldn't be able to look Harry in the eyes…ever. Or Slughorn, for that matter. It's stupid to behave like that in front of your friend."

"That's stupid," Harry snapped at him. "You two…and Ginny have seen me in all stages of emotional breakdown. And all of us have had their own share of embarrassing moments. They don't really matter."

"Harry's right, Ron," said Arthur. "At times, you have to let your friends in…And the best example would be the Marauders." He smirked at the confused looks on everyone's faces and the terrified ones on the Marauder's. "I don't think many know, but the Marauders can cry like babies. All of them and on more than one occasion."

"You didn't have to tell on us, Arthur," James murmured indignantly, blushing at the surprised, shocked and…indulgent…looks that their group was getting from all around. Especially from the girls and Professor McGonagall.

"Ya. Just because you stumbled upon us a few times…." Sirius trailed off,

fixing Arthur with a death glare. Remus was the only one who was looking unfazed. He nudged Sirius to continue reading. After all, it was getting pretty close to their lunch-time and Harry had promised to relay his fourth year after this chapter.

"Back to normal, then?" said Harry, grinning. Slughorn chuckled. "Thanks a lot, Professor."

"Don't mention it, m"boy, don't mention it," said Slughorn, as Ron collapsed into a nearby armchair, looking devastated. "Pick-me-up, that's what he needs," Slughorn continued, now-bustling over to a table loaded with drinks. "I've got Butter-beer, I've got wine, I've got one last bottle of this oak-matured mead ... hmm ... meant to give that to Dumbledore for Christmas ... ah well ..." he shrugged "...

he can't miss what he's never had! Why don't we open it now and celebrate Mr. Weasley's birthday? Nothing like a fine spirit to chase away the pangs of disappointed love ..."

"He wasn't really helping," Ron murmured. "Nor did his "oak-matured mead"."

Frank frowned. "But it should have. Or did something do wrong? You guys kept hinting that something bad would happen at the end…"

"Just read," Hermione interrupted sharply. "You will get your answers."

He chortled again and Harry joined in. This was the first time he had found himself almost alone with Slughorn since his disastrous first attempt to extract the true memory from him. Perhaps, if he could just keep Slughorn in a good mood ... perhaps if they got through enough of the oak-matured mead...

"There you are, then," said Slughorn, handing Harry and Ron a glass of mead each, before raising his own. "Well, a very happy birthday, Ralph -"

"- Ron -" whispered Harry.

But Ron, who did not appear to be listening to the toast, had already thrown the mead into his mouth and swallowed it.

Hermione took Harry's hand in her own, at this point, and squeezed it lightly. Harry had not taken Ron's poisoning very lightly. For almost a month, he was haunted by nightmares, where he would fail to save Ron. Ironically it had been Ron himself who had informed Hermione about their friend's nightmares, and they had managed to talk some sense into him.

There was one second, hardly more than a heartbeat, in which Harry knew there was something terribly wrong and Slughorn, it seemed, did not.

"What's wrong?" Molly questioned, her eyes meeting Harry's. "What happened?" He was a little taken-aback to see the blatant worry in her eyes.

"The Mead was poisoned," Harry replied. "As a result, Ron was poisoned."

Gasps were heard around the room. Arthur's and Molly's faces had turned ashen, even though they were perfectly aware that Ron got out of it, safe and sound.

"Slughorn poisoned Ron?" Sirius questioned his usual bluntness in place.

Hermione shook her head hastily. "He didn't know that the Mead was poisoned. He didn't poison Ron…indirectly maybe, but not knowingly."

"- and may you have many more -

"Ron!"

Ron had dropped his glass; he half-rose from his chair and then crumpled, his extremities jerking uncontrollably. Foam was dribbling from his mouth and his eyes were bulging from their sockets.

"It was absolutely terrifying," Harry murmured, shuddering. Arthur had put his arm around Molly, who was shaking visibly.

"Professor!" Harry bellowed. "Do something!"

"Oh, Harry!" Lily groaned. "Professor Slughorn is not one to be approached in cases of emergency. He panics more than anyone else I know. Get Madam Pomfrey or someone else"

"Harry alone was sufficient," said Ron, smiling mysteriously.

But Slughorn seemed paralyzed by shock. Ron twitched and choked:

his skin was turning blue. "What - but -" spluttered Slughorn.

Harry leapt over a low table and sprinted towards Slughorn's open potion kit, pulling out jars and pouches, while the terrible sound of Ron's gargling breath filled the room. Then he found it - the shriveled kidney-like stone Slughorn had taken from him in Potions.

"A bezoar!" Snape exclaimed. "That was a brilliant idea, Harry!

Molly's trembling had lessened. "Thanks a lot, Harry. You probably saved him."

"He did save me," stated Ron, matter of factly. "Otherwise it might have been too late to give the antidote." Harry could help blushing at all these complements.

He hurtled back to Ron's side, wrenched open his jaw and thrust the bezoar into his mouth. Ron gave a great shudder, a rattling gasp and his body became limp and still.

"Thank god that the bezoar worked," Snape murmured. "At least, it wasn't one of those poisons that are resistant to bezoars."

"Our good luck," Harry and Ron chorused.

"Well, end of the chapter," Sirius announced. "An interesting one it was too."

"Except for Ron getting poisoned," James added. "That part sucked."

"Plus it increased the mystery even further." Remus remarked. "So, now do we get to know about your fourth year?"

Harry nodded. "Our Fourth year marked a huge turning point, both, in our lives and the Wizarding World's in general. Voldemort returned at the end of our Fourth Year." A combination of gasps and pale, ashen faces greeted this announcement.