A Need For Memories

by aviendha15

This story is shared with SailorMartin3 with express consent.

23. The Unknowable Room

Part 23

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius questioned, looking over at the Trio.

"We finally get to know that Malfoy was using the Room of requirements," Harry explained. "We should have guessed earlier, but it skipped us. And, it didn't help that Hermione was, at first, in denial about Malfoy's involvement, and later wasn't overly concerned about it."

"I said Sorry," snapped Hermione, glaring at her friend. Even Lily and Molly were looking at Harry, disapprovingly. It was a little heartless of him to accuse Hermione so directly. "I was wrong…totally. I should have noted that you are usually right about these things. But Harry, I can't help being skeptical. That's how I am!"

Harry was shocked to see the brunette's eyes swimming with tears. He was already regretting his words. Hermione has done so much for him; she did not deserve any kind of blame. He put an arm around her, taking heart that she did not throw it off. "I am so sorry, Mione," he said, lowering his voice considerably. "It was wrong of me to blame you. Though, I didn't mean to do that at all. It's just that we have come to be so dependent on you, that we forget that you might feel pressurized."

"I don't," said Hermione, wiping her eyes. She was already feeling stupid for making a scene out of nothing. "I know you don't blame me, but I can't help but blame myself. I know none of us could have really changed what happened but what if someone from our side actually died that night, when the Death Eaters broke in Hogwarts? Bill almost died and both Ginny and Ron missed death by centimeters. All that still gives me nightmares."

"It's alright, Mi," Harry murmured, feeling like the worst prat in the world. He should have just kept his bloody mouth shut. Reading about everything that happened was already acting to aggravate Hermione's guilt. His words just made it much worse. "Nothing was your fault. You are one who tells me to let go of my guilt and my mistakes actually cost my godfather, his life.

You did nothing wrong, Hermione. You couldn't help doubting my words. It's not that I showed you loads of proofs or anything. And most importantly, all that's in the past. Just forget it now. An, I am really sorry for hurting you."

"Not your fault," Hermione muttered her voice still thick with unshed tears, though she did look slightly better. "It's my stupid guilt. I am sorry for acting so stupidly."

"None of that," Harry said, squeezing her shoulders briefly and kissing her on the cheek.

"You alright?" Ron asked leaning close to Hermione. She nodded, giving him a small smile and also directing it to the room at large. Because, most of them were looking at her with concerned eyes.

"I am alright," she said, broadening her smile a bit to prove her point. "I was just being overly emotional. Can you please begin the chapter, Molly? Harry will kill us if we delay much more." Molly grinned back at the girl and started with the chapter.

Harry wracked his brains over the next week as to how he was to persuade Slughorn to hand over the true memory, but nothing in the nature of a brain wave occurred and he was reduced to doing what he did increasingly these days when at a loss: poring over his Potions book, hoping that the Prince would have scribbled something useful in a margin, as he had done so many times before.

"It is a Potion book, Harry," said Snape. "What exactly did you expect to find there? Especially when Veritaserum is out of question."

"I was thinking about some spell maybe…" Harry muttered defensively.

Snape raised his eyebrows at him at smirked. "The only spell that might work is Imperius," he said. "And, I didn't know that you fancied a nice, quiet holiday in Azkaban! Though, with Voldemort on your trail it sounds relatively better."

"Don't talk about Azkaban and my godson in one sentence, Severus," Sirius snapped a bit but the effect was marred as he was chortling hard and was most of the others in the room. Except for Harry, who had resorted to alternate huffing and pouting.

"You won't find anything in there," said Hermione firmly, late on Sunday evening.

"Don't start, Hermione," said Harry. "If it hadn't been for the Prince, Ron wouldn't be sitting here now."

"He would if you'd just listened to Snape in our first year," said Hermione dismissively.

"Then I would have been dead!" remarked Ron. "Harry never listened to Snape, especially about Potions. Though he remembers all the insults pretty well."

"Like you are the one to talk!" said Harry scornfully. "I doubt that you even managed to remember the insults that were thrown."

"Makes me feel so great about my teaching abilities," Snape mumbled, earning snickers from the Marauders, though Remus was giving him sympathetic looks.

Harry ignored her. He had just found an incantation "Sectumsempra!" scrawled in a margin above the intriguing words "For enemies," and was itching to try it out, but thought it best not to in front of Hermione.

"Don't try it, Harry!" Snape groaned, a little desperately. "Not that spell!"

"You know I do!" Harry mumbled back, shrugging his shoulders. "I already owed up to it. One of the worst things I ever did, obviously, but it's done. "

"That spell is bad?" James questioned, frowning a bit at the exchange between Severus and his son.

"It's terrible," replied Snape looking even more anxious. "I detest myself for ever inventing this spell. It is Dark Magic." Snape sneaked a glance at Dumbledore, and his self-loathing just increased on noting the disapproving and disappointed look on the Headmaster's face.

"Bloody Hell!" Sirius mouthed softly. Molly shot a stern look at him, before continuing with the chapter.

Instead, he surreptitiously folded down the corner of the page. They were sitting beside the fire in the common room; the only other people awake were fellow sixth years. There had been a certain amount of excitement earlier when they had come back from dinner to find a new sign on the notice board that announced the date for their Apparition Test. Those who would be seventeen on or before the first test date, the twenty-first of April, had the option of signing up for additional practice sessions, which would take place (heavily supervised) in Hogsmeade.

"At least the two of you will be able to get out of the school for a while," said Remus, smiling at Hermione and Ron. "It would almost be like a date." He could not resist teasing the couple. It had the desired effect as both Ron and Hermione blushed heavily.

"Not if Lavender tags along," Lily reminded him. "Then poor Hermione would be left all alone."

"Why isn't anybody concerned about me?" Harry questioned, sounding mutinous. "I would be left all alone in the castle."

"Melodramatic much," Lily commented, raising her eyebrows at her son, smirking slightly. "You have to make a few sacrifices when you are a part of a Trio, and your friends are madly in love with each other."

"Whatever!" Harry muttered, sticking his tongue out at his 'madly in-love friends'.

Ron had panicked on reading this notice; he had still not managed to Apparate and feared he would not be ready for the test. Hermione, who had now achieved Apparition twice, was a little more confident, but Harry, who would not be seventeen for another four months, could not take the test whether ready or not.

"Were you?" Arthur questioned.

"A little, I guess," Harry replied. "Not as well prepared as Hermione, but a little better than Ron. Then again, he is completely hopeless at Apparition, even now." Ron shot a glare at him, but did not contradict his words. After all, Harry wasn't exactly lying.

"At least you can Apparate, though!" said Ron tensely. "You'll have no trouble come July!"

"I've only done it once," Harry reminded him; he had finally managed to disappear and rematerialize inside his hoop during their previous lesson.

Having wasted a lot of time worrying aloud about Apparition, Ron was now struggling to finish a viciously difficult essay for Snape that Harry and Hermione had already completed. Harry fully expected to receive low marks on his, because he had disagreed with Snape on the best way to tackle dementors, but he did not care.

"There is another way?" Frank asked, eyeing Snape. "Other than Patronus, that is?"

"Not that I know of," Snape said, sounding lost. He hasn't heard of any other way of tackling Dementors, but it fully seemed that his future self did. Or, tried to establish that he did.

"There are a few different ways," Dumbledore supplied, smiling at the baffled looks on his students' faces. "A few different spells, other than the Patronus. They are all mostly ancient spells, and require a fair bit of magic. But, they are not as effective as the Patronus spell. This is, in my opinion, the most perfect spell to get rid of the Dementors"

Slughorn's memory was the most important thing to him now.

"I'm telling you, the stupid Prince isn't going to be able to help you with this, Harry!" said Hermione, more loudly.

"Stupid Prince?" Snape repeated, glaring at Hermione.

"Um…Sorry," said Hermione, grinning sheepishly. "Though, it's not really my fault. It was Harry's. He irritated me."

Harry smirked. "Nah!" he said. "It's your fault that you got irritated. I was just doing my work."

"As if 'working' equals to looking for a non-existent answer in a st…book," said Hermione sarcastically, glaring at Harry venomously. "And thanks to you, I also managed to criticize a BOOK! Though not for the first time. And, Umbridge's stupid 'Defensive Theory' will certainly claim the top spot in that list."

"No doubt about that!" Harry and Ron chorused, joining Hermione in her laughter.

"There's only one way to force someone to do what you want, and that's the Imperius Curse, which is illegal —"

"Yeah, I know that, thanks," said Harry, not looking up from the book. "That's why I'm looking for something different. Dumbledore says Veritaserum won't do it, but there might be something else, a potion or a spell. . . ."

"You're going about it the wrong way," said Hermione. "Only you can get the memory, Dumbledore says. That must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can't. It's not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could do that —"

"Listen to her, Harry," said James exasperatedly. "And find a damn way to get that memory!"

"Learn to be a little patient, James," Lily snapped. "Act your age, at least. Do continue reading, Molly."

"How do you spell 'belligerent'?" said Ron, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. "It can't be B — U — M —"

"No, it isn't," said Hermione, pulling Ron's essay toward her. "And 'augury' doesn't begin O — R — G either. What kind of quill are you using?"

"It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Check ones, but I think the charm must be wearing off."

"Yes, it must," said Hermione, pointing at the title of his essay, "because we were asked how we'd deal with dementors, not 'Dug-bogs', and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either."

Everyone broke out into laughter at Ron's 'spell-checked' name.

"It suits you much better," gasped out Sirius, from between his laughter. "Then they could call you Roony or Nilly or something."

"Be sure to name him that, Molly" added Remus, laughing equally hard. "Roonil Wazlib Weasley. That would be a great name. Just remind her, Arthur."

"HA! HA!" mumbled Ron, his face crimson. "Why don't you two adopt the name yourselves? Sirius can be Roonil and you be Wazlib, Remus."

"That won't be nearly that much fun!" said James, smirking at the red-haired boy. "And that name suits you. No grief! We will just use this as your nick-name." Ron groaned and put his head in his hands. Trust James to come up with something like that.

Molly took pity on her son and continued with the chapter.

"Ah no!" said Ron, staring horror-struck at the parchment. "Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!"

"It's okay, we can fix it," said Hermione, pulling the essay toward her and taking out her wand.

"I love you, Hermione," said Ron, sinking back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"You said it!" Alice shrieked out, instantly blushing as the others winced at her shrill tone. "You actually confessed that you love her." She added, in a much lower voice.

Ron blushed slightly, "Yes and no. I meant it, sort of. But, Hermione took it in a purely platonic way. Not, her fault," Ron hastened to add, seeing the affronted look on Hermione's face. "I hadn't broken up with Lavender, yet. She couldn't have taken me seriously."

"I didn't even know that he loved me," said Hermione. "And his actions didn't exactly work to reassure me."

"Sorry," mumbled Ron, grimacing at his girlfriend.

Hermione turned faintly pink, but merely said, "Don't let Lavender hear you saying that."

"1 won't," said Ron into his hands. "Or maybe I will, and then she'll ditch me."

"Why don't you ditch her if you want to finish it?" asked Harry.

"You haven't ever chucked anyone, have you?" said Ron. "You and Cho just —"

"Sort of fell apart, yeah," said Harry.

"You just have to grit your teeth and do it! No need to mince your words. " said Sirius knowledgeably, and knowledgeable he was, seeing that he had an unflattering reputation of being a playboy. And such a title has to contain its own share of breaking ups.

"I don't think you want to take Padfoot's advice," James murmured to Ron, in a stage-whisper causing Sirius to glower at him.

"Most of his 'breaking-ups' costs him an inflamed cheek and…um…some other injuries too."

Ron snorted at the look of Sirius's face. "Thanks but no thanks, Padfoot," he said. "I think I did better. At least, I managed to get off without any injuries."

"Wish that would happen with me and Lavender," said Ron gloomily, watching Hermione silently tapping each of his misspelled words with the end of her wand, so that they corrected themselves on the page. "But the more I hint I want to finish it, the tighter she holds on. It's like going out with the giant squid."

"Comparing girls with Giant squids, Ron?" Molly asked her son exasperatedly, glancing at him from the top of the book. "Are you absolutely sure that Sirius didn't train you about girls? Maybe he left an exclusive Journal or something."

"I never compare girls with squids, Molly!" Sirius exclaimed indignantly, causing his friends to splutter in laughter.

Molly smirked at him. "Of course you don't," she said. "Your comparisons are much worse. Especially the last one…I think, it was to Thestrals!"

"She was so skinny," Sirius whined, defensively.

"What a great reason for calling someone names!" murmured Lily, though she could keep the grin off her face. Any other time, she would have bristled at Sirius' insensitiveness. But, she knew him better now. Sirius is never mean, on purpose. He just lacks tact. Much like Ron, and then he beats himself up on his carelessness. She directed a smile at the defiant looking boy (still very much angry with his friends and Molly and Ron), before concentrating on the chapter that Molly had resumed reading.

"There," said Hermione, some twenty minutes later, handing back Ron's essay.

"Thanks a million," said Ron. "Can I borrow your quill for the conclusion?" Harry, who had found nothing useful in the Half-Blood Prince's notes so far, looked around; the three of them were now the only ones left in the common room, Seamus having just gone up to bed cursing Snape and his essay. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and Ron scratching out one last paragraph on dementors using Hermione's quill. Harry had just closed the Half-Blood Prince's book, yawning, when —

Crack!

"Kreacher or Dobby!" Remus remarked. "No one, other than house elves can Apparate within Hogwarts."

"Could be both," Alice pointed out. "They were allotted the task together."

"Then there would be two 'Cracks', Alice," Frank teased. Alice made a face at her boyfriend, before turning her back at him resolutely.

Hermione let out a little shriek; Ron spilled ink all over his freshly completed essay, and Harry said, "Kreacher!"

The house-elf bowed low and addressed his own gnarled toes. "Master said he wanted regular reports on what the Malfoy boy is doing, so Kreacher has come to give-"

Crack!

Dobby appeared alongside Kreacher, his tea-cozy hat askew. "Dobby has been helping too, Harry Potter!" he squeaked, casting Kreacher a resentful look. "And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their reports together!"

"What is this?" asked Hermione, still looking shocked by these sudden appearances. "What's going on, Harry?" Harry hesitated before answering, because he had not told Hermione about setting Kreacher and Dobby to tail Malfoy; house-elves were always such a touchy subject with her.

"They really didn't let you know?" Snape asked, sounding a little stunned.

"They didn't!" Hermione replied, glaring at the two boys. "Harry said that he 'forgot'. Apparently, it was something else."

Harry grinned at her sheepishly. "Sorry Hermione," he said. "But, I really didn't fancy a lecture on house-elves. And on Malfoy."

"Whatever," said Hermione grumpily. "Though, you are probably right." She relented slightly. "I would have probably just bugged you."

"Well. . . they've been following Malfoy for me," he said.

"Night and day," croaked Kreacher.

"Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry Potter!" said Dobby proudly, swaying where he stood. Hermione looked indignant.

"I didn't tell him not to," Harry defended himself, glancing warily at his mother. She is almost as obsessive about house-elves as Hermione.

"We know that, Harry," said Lily, smiling at her son. "We read about that, remember? But, maybe you should have just let them know that they could take a break or something."

"You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't tell him not to —"

"No, of course I didn't," said Harry quickly. "Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found out anything?" he hastened to ask, before Hermione could intervene again.

"Master Malfoy moves with a nobility that befits his pure blood," croaked Kreacher at once. "His features recall the fine bones of my mistress and his manners are those of—"

"Oh goodness!" Sirius groaned. "Now, he is going to present you with an entire praise-list of Malfoy."

"It was a little irritating," Harry confessed, trading a guilty look with his friends. He did not like speaking ill of Kreacher; In spite of that elf's many faults.

"Draco Malfoy is a bad boy!" squeaked Dobby angrily. "A bad boy who — who —" He shuddered from the tassel of his tea cozy to the toes of his socks and then ran at the fire, as though about to dive into it. Harry, to whom this was not entirely unexpected, caught him around the middle and held him fast. For a few seconds Dobby struggled, then went limp.

"Thank you, Harry Potter," he panted. "Dobby still finds it difficult to speak ill of his old masters." Harry released him; Dobby straightened his tea cozy and said defiantly to Kreacher, "But Kreacher should know that Draco Malfoy is not a good master to a house-elf!"

"Very true," said Snape. "The Malfoys won't find it prudent to waste even a single MINUTE on house-elves. They are just CREATURES to them. To be kept and used but never cared for."

"Very true, Severus," said Dumbledore. "But, there had always been repercussions. And there always will be. We forget that everyone; Wizards, Muggles or non-humans, all have their own importance in the world. We are only reminded of this, when we need something desperately and come to the realization that it is impossible to achieve it without their help." It seemed that Dumbledore was speaking more to himself than with anyone else.

The Trio exchanged significant looks. It seemed that Dumbledore was regretting his younger-self's thoughts about ruling over the Muggles. Harry motioned Molly to resume reading, knowing full well that Dumbledore would be lost in his own world for some time.

"Yeah, we don't need to hear about you being in love with Malfoy," Harry told Kreacher. "Let's fast forward to where he's actually been going."

Kreacher bowed again, looking furious, and then said, "Master Malfoy eats in the Great Hall, he sleeps in a dormitory in the dungeons, and he attends his classes in a variety of—"

"Dobby, you tell me," said Harry, cutting across Kreacher. "Has he been going anywhere he shouldn't have?"

"Harry Potter, sir," squeaked Dobby, his great orb like eyes shining in the firelight, "the Malfoy boy is breaking no rules that Dobby can discover, but he is still keen to avoid detection. He has been making regular visits to the seventh floor with a variety of other students, who keep watch for him while he enters —"

"If you don't get it now, Harry," said James, threateningly. "I might just have to disown you."

Lily smacked him hard on the arm. "You will do nothing like that, James Potter," she yelled, her eyes flashing in anger. "It is easy to guess things, when the facts are all penned down in front of you but it is much more difficult to do so when you are living the situation."

"Goodness, I was just teasing Lily," James murmured, rubbing his sore arm. "Obviously, I won't disown my son for something as stupid as this. I don't disown him for anything really, small or big."

"Gee, thanks Dad," said Harry, smirking wickedly at James. "It feels good to have your parent's permission to act wild."

"I didn't mean that!" said Lily scowling at her son.

"It was the same thing," said Harry, shrugging casually. He exchanged a wink with his father, who was trying to cool down an annoyed Lily. Molly shook her head at this stupid banter, and continued reading.

"The Room of Requirement!" said Harry, smacking himself hard on the forehead with Advanced Potion-Making. Hermione and Ron stared at him. "That's where he's been sneaking off to! That's where he's doing… whatever he's doing! And I bet that's why he's been disappearing off the map — come to think of it; I've never seen the Room of Requirement on there!"

"Maybe the Marauders never knew the room was there," said Ron.

"Guess again!" the Marauders chorused.

"The room is unplottable," Minerva supplied. "And one of the most magical rooms in Hogwarts."

"I think it'll be part of the magic of the room," said Hermione. "If you need it to be unplottable, it will be."

"Dobby, have you managed to get in to have a look at what Malfoy's doing?" said Harry eagerly.

"No, Harry Potter, that is impossible," said Dobby.

"No, it's not," said Harry at once. "Malfoy got into our head-quarters there last year, so I'll be able to get in and spy on him, no problem."

"Now when did that happen?" Remus asked exasperatedly. "You all didn't mention it."

"Fifth year," Ron replied. "One of the members of the DA turned tell-tale. She went and let Umbridge know about the DA. Malfoy and his Minions caught Harry in the room. But, thanks to Dobby we had a moment's notice to make our way to safety."

"Then do the same to him!" Frank exclaimed. "And we will be able to know what exactly he is up to."

"But I don't think you will, Harry," said Hermione slowly. "Malfoy already knew exactly how we were using the room, didn't he, because that stupid Marietta had blabbed. He needed the room to become the headquarters of the D.A., so it did. But you don't know what the room becomes when Malfoy goes in there, so you don't know what to ask it to transform into."

"Another hitch," Sirius moaned. "Did you have to point it out, Hermione?"

"Of course, I did," Hermione replied, sounding incensed. "Otherwise, Harry would have dropped all his classes and pitched up a tent in the Seventh floor. And, he would have probably dragged Ron along with him."

"She knows me too well," Harry grumbled. "Though, the 'pitching a tent' bit is an exaggeration. I would have probably come down to the Dormitory."

"There'll be a way around that," said Harry dismissively. "You've done brilliantly, Dobby."

"Kreacher's done well too," said Hermione kindly; but far from looking grateful, Kreacher averted his huge, bloodshot eyes and croaked at the ceiling, "The Mudblood is speaking to Kreacher, Kreacher will pretend he cannot hear —"

"Get out of it," Harry snapped at him, and Kreacher made one last deep bow and Disapparated. "You'd better go and get some sleep too, Dobby."

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked Dobby happily, and he too vanished.

"How good is this?" said Harry enthusiastically, turning to Ron and Hermione the moment the room was elf-free again. "We know where Malfoy's going! We've got him cornered now!"

"And once again my friends crumple my belief and enthusiasm," said Harry dramatically, mimicking a dagger stabbing his heart. This earned him a smack on his head from Hermione and a punch on the arm from Ron.

"At least they kept you grounded," Molly remarked. "You fly too high for your own good."

"Yeah," Harry confessed, albeit reluctantly. "That they do. Especially Hermione." Hermione grinned at her friend, catching him in a one-armed hug.

"Yeah, it's great," said Ron glumly, who was attempting to mop up the sodden mass of ink that had recently been an almost completed essay. Hermione pulled it toward her and began siphoning the ink off with her wand.

"But what's all this about him going up there with a variety of students'?" said Hermione. "How many people are in on it? You wouldn't think he'd trust lots of them to know what he's doing-"

"Yeah, that is weird," said Harry, frowning. "I heard him telling Crabbe it wasn't Crabbe's business what he was doing... so what's he telling all these... all these..." Harry's voice tailed away; he was staring at the fire. "God, I've been stupid," he said quietly. "It's obvious, isn't it? There was a great vat of it down in the dungeon. . . . He could've nicked some any time during that lesson. . . ."

"They nicked some and made the rest," Harry murmured bitterly. "We lent them a fine idea."

"Nicked what?" said Ron.

"Polyjuice Potion. He stole some of the Polyjuice Potion Slughorn showed us in our first Potions lesson… There aren't a whole variety of students standing guard for Malfoy… it's just Crabbe and Goyle as usual. …Yeah, it all fits!" said Harry, jumping up and starting to pace in front of the fire. "They're stupid enough to do what they're told even if he won't tell them what he's up to, but he doesn't want them to be seen lurking around outside the Room of Requirement, so he's got them taking Polyjuice to make them look like other people… Those two girls I saw him with when he missed Quidditch — ha! Crabbe and Goyle!"

"You are good," James complemented his son, obviously impressed. "You put together facts, really fast."

"He's brilliant at that," agreed Hermione, remembering the entire 'Death Hallows' thing. "At times, it is even a little unnerving."

"He gets that from Lily," Snape remarking, causing both James and Harry to smile fondly at the girl. "Lily's brilliant at solving puzzles, especially the logical ones. But one important thing that she lacks is patience. And I guess Harry inherited that too."

"Crazy," Harry remarked grinning at his friends. "I am even more like my Mother than I would have thought to be possible. It seems that she managed to pass down many of her qualities through me. And here I was thinking that my Mum's genes missed my DNA altogether."

"DNA?" Ron asked. "Now, what on earth in that?"

"Now, how to explain this…" Hermione mumbled to herself. "It is the main engine of our body. Well…not really. But, it works the same way. Oh Hell! Forget it. I will explain later."

"Do you mean to say," said Hermione in a hushed voice, "that that little girl whose scales I repaired —?"

"Yeah, of course!" said Harry loudly, staring at her. "Of course! Malfoy must've been inside the room at the time, so she — what am I talking about? — he dropped the scales to tell Malfoy not to come because there was someone there! And there was that girl who dropped the toadspawn too! We've been walking past him all the time and not realizing it!"

"Very, Very impressive," Frank complemented again. Sirius frowned a little at this, but did not raise a protest. Malfoy's idea was really very good, even though it poised problems for Harry.

"He's got Crabbe and Goyle transforming into girls?" guffawed Ron. "Blimey… no wonder they don't look too happy these days. I'm surprised they don't tell him to stuff it."

"Well, they wouldn't, would they, if he's shown them his Dark Mark?" said Harry.

"Hmmm... the Dark Mark we don't know exists," said Hermione skeptically, rolling up Ron's dried essay before it could come to any more harm and handing it to him.

"Why are you so skeptical about the Dark Mark, Hermione?" Minerva questioned. "There have already been many instances where you all have seen Mr. Malfoy portraying something on his left arm; not to mention that very enlightening talk with Severus. It is more that proven, that Mr. Malfoy has taken on the Dark Mark."

"Hermione doesn't believe anything, unless she sees the proof with her own eyes," Harry replied for Hermione, noticing the guilty look on her face. "She had not believed that Magic existed till she actually saw Hogwarts and actually started living here. She cannot help it. That's just, how she is."

"Yup," said Ron, draping an arm around Hermione. "She is the practical side of our Trio. Both Harry and I are much too impulsive. She has to be the realistic one, to balance the equation."

"We'll see," said Harry confidently.

"Yes, we will," Hermione said, getting to her feet and stretching. "But, Harry, before you get all excited, I still don't think you'll be able to get into the Room of Requirement without knowing what's there first. And I don't think you should forget" — she heaved her bag onto her shoulder and gave him a very serious look — "that what you're supposed to be concentrating on is getting that memory from Slughorn. Good night."

Harry watched her go, feeling slightly disgruntled. Once the door to the girls' dormitories had closed behind her he rounded on Ron. "What d'you think?"

"Wish I could Disapparate like a house-elf," said Ron, staring at the spot where Dobby had vanished. "I'd have that Apparition Test in the bag."

"Such great friends I have," said Harry sardonically. "One scoffs off my ideas, and another resides in a world of his own."

"Trust me Harry, you are much, much worse," countered Hermione, smirking. "It is really a pain to keep up with a friend, who wallows in guilt and self-pity for most of the time or screams at us or relates impossible-sounding theories."

"Idiot!" Harry snapped, making a face at Hermione, which caused both Ron and her to burst out laughing.

Harry did not sleep well that night. He lay awake for what felt like hours, wondering how Malfoy was using the Room of Requirement and what he, Harry, would see when he went in there the following day, for whatever Hermione said, Harry was sure that if Malfoy had been able to see the headquarters of the D.A., he would be able to see Malfoy's, what could it be? A meeting place? A hideout? A store room? A workshop? Harry's mind worked feverishly and his dreams, when he finally fell asleep, were broken and disturbed by images of Malfoy, who turned into Slughorn, who turned into Snape…

"That's what happens from too much obsession," said Lily, glaring at her son sternly. "Now it is even costing you your sleep."

"And mine too," Ron pointed out. "It is bloody difficult to sleep when your friend keeps on tossing and turning all night long."

"You could have placed a silencing charm around your bed," Snape pointed out, though he pretty much knew what the answer would be. And he was not disappointed.

"That wasn't an option at all," scoffed Ron. "That would have just given Harry an excuse to hide his nightmares; not that he didn't try to otherwise." Harry blushed a little and smiled sheepishly.

Harry was in a state of great anticipation over breakfast the following morning; he had a free period before Defense against the Dark Arts and was determined to spend it trying to get into the Room of Requirement. Hermione was rather ostentatiously showing no interest in his whispered plans for forcing entry into the room, which irritated Harry, because he thought she might be a lot of help if she wanted to.

"Look," he said quietly, leaning forward and putting a hand on the Daily Prophet, which she had just removed from a post owl, to stop her from opening it and vanishing behind it. "I haven't forgotten about Slughorn, but I haven't got a clue how to get that memory off him, and until I get a brain wave why shouldn't I find out what Malfoy's doing?"

"Professor Dumbledore should just tell Harry the truth about Malfoy, if he knows it," said Sirius. "Otherwise, he will never concentrate on finding the memory."

"He should figure that out for himself," Lily contradicted. "Harry has to fight his own battles. He can't depend on Professor Dumbledore for every small thing. He has to learn to make the correct decisions by himself."

"He is just a kid, Lily," said James. "We are 6th year students, ourselves. And, I really doubt if we could cope having the weight of such a mind-boggling prophecy on our shoulders."

"Harry is not a kid, James," said Lily, her voice heavy with grief. "As much as I want him to be one, he is not! He has had to fight Voldemort ever since he was a year old. He had to fight to just to stay alive. And when it wasn't Voldemort, it was some other people from the Magical or the Muggle world who were making life difficult for him. He had to grow up long before he should have."

"That's true," Ron mumbled, while James murmured words of comfort into Lily's ears. She had broken down into tears, possibly at the thought of her baby growing up so soon. "Harry always had to adopt responsibility and fight things out."

"That's why he needs to learn to do the right things, as soon as possible," said Remus.

Harry was both, amused and touched by everybody's concern. Especially for something that had already taken place. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel grateful for their concern.

"I've already told you, you need to persuade Slughorn," said Hermione. "It's not a question of tricking him or bewitching him, or Dumbledore could have done it in a second. Instead of messing around outside the Room of Requirement" — she jerked the Prophet out from under Harry's hand and unfolded it to look at the front page

— "you should go and find Slughorn and start appealing to his better nature."

"Anyone we know —?" asked Ron, as Hermione scanned the headlines.

"Yes!" said Hermione, causing both Harry and Ron to gag on their breakfast.

"Who?" nearly everyone in the room shrieked. Well, everyone except for the Professors. Minerva didn't let vent to emotional outbursts very often and Dumbledore could tell from the Trio's faces that it wasn't anything serious.

"But it's all right, he's not dead — its Mundungus, he's been arrested and sent to Azkaban! Something to do with impersonating an Inferius during an attempted burglary

"Merlin, Mione," Sirius huffed, still looking a little hassled. "You gave us a heart attack."

"Us too," Harry and Ron chorused, causing Hermione to glare at them.

and someone called Octavius Pepper has vanished. Oh, and how horrible, a nine-year-old boy has been arrested for trying to kill his grandparents, they think he was under the Imperius Curse."

"Dear Merlin!" Snape whistled, under his breath. "That is terrible!"

"But, why on earth anyone would put the Imperius curse on a kid?" Arthur demanded harshly. "That seeks to serve no purpose!"

"And when has Voldemort or his Death Eaters done anything for a purpose, Dad?" said Ron. "They just do it because it is fun. Or for some other equally stupid and sick reason."

They finished their breakfast in silence. Hermione set off immediately for Ancient Runes; Ron for the common room, where he still had to finish his conclusion on Snape's Dementor essay, and Harry for the corridor on the seventh floor and the stretch of wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet.

Harry slipped on his Invisibility Cloak once he had found an empty passage, but he need not have bothered. When he reached his destination he found it deserted. Harry was not sure whether his chances of getting inside the room were better with Malfoy inside it or out, but at least his first attempt was not going to be complicated by the presence of Crabbe or Goyle pretending to be an eleven-year-old girl.

He closed his eyes as he approached the place where the Room of Requirement's door was concealed. He knew what he had to do; he had become most accomplished at it last year. Concentrating with all his might he thought, "I need to see what Malfoy's doing in here... I need to see what Malfoy's doing in here... I need to see what Malfoy's doing in here..."

"That will not work," said James. "It does not follow orders. You have tell the room the exact words." Harry nodded glumly. He had understood it much later and it had been too late till then. And, he had wasted so much time pursuing that idiotic door.

Three times he walked past the door; then, his heart pounding with excitement, he opened his eyes and faced it — but he was still looking at a stretch of mundanely blank wall. He moved forward and gave it an experimental push. The stone remained solid and unyielding.

"Okay," said Harry aloud. "Okay... I thought the wrong thing..." He pondered for a moment then set off again, eyes closed, concentrating as hard as he could. "I need to see the place where Malfoy keeps coming secretly... I need to see the place where Malfoy keeps coming secretly..." After three walks past, he opened his eyes expectantly. There was no door. "Oh, come off it," he told the wall irritably. "That was a clear instruction. Fine." He thought hard for several minutes before striding off once more. "I need you to become the place you become for Draco Malfoy..."

He did not immediately open his eyes when he had finished his patrolling; he was listening hard, as though he might hear the door pop into existence. He heard nothing, however, except the distant twittering of birds outside. He opened his eyes.

There was still no door. Harry swore. Someone screamed.

"Harry!" Lily reprimanded. "You should not swear, especially in the school."

"Sorry," said Harry, rolling his eyes as soon as Lily looked the other way.

Trust his mother to scold him for something that happened years back.

He looked around to see a gaggle of first years running back around the corner, apparently under the impression that they had just encountered a particularly foulmouthed ghost.

Harry tried every variation of "I need to see what Draco Malfoy is doing inside you" that he could think of for a whole hour, at the end of which he was forced to concede that Hermione might have had a point:

"Don't I always, Harry?" said Hermione, smirking. "You should have realized it after all these years. Any moderately intelligent person would have."

"You have only yourself to blame for that, Mione," Harry pointed out. "You should have chosen more intelligent people to be your friends."

Hermione snorted. "I didn't want your death on my conscience," she countered back. "The two of you are absolutely hopeless without me!"

"Such modesty, Hermione," said Ron derisively. "Why don't you lend us some?"

"Too expensive," said Hermione off-handedly, bringing the conversation (…argument…) to an abrupt close.

The room simply did not want to open for him. Frustrated and annoyed, he set off for Defense against the Dark Arts, pulling off his Invisibility Cloak and stuffing it into his bag as he went.

"Late again, Potter," said Snape coldly, as Harry hurried into the candlelit classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor." Harry scowled at Snape as he flung himself into the seat beside Ron. Half the class were still on their feet, taking out books and organizing their things; he could not be much later than any of them.

"He was justified about taking points off you, Harry," James pointed out, a little reluctantly. It still felt weird to support Sn…Severus against his son. But, the misgiving ended when Severus gave him a genuinely grateful smile. "You aren't supposed to be late for class, even by a few minutes. And, it's just ten points."

"Professor McGonagall would have taken off points and probably assigned a detention too," Sirius said, smirking at the Transfiguration teacher who glared at him, sternly.

"Before we start, I want your Dementor essays," said Snape, waving his wand carelessly, so that twenty-five scrolls of parchment soared into the air and landed in a neat pile on his desk. "And I hope for your sakes they are better than the tripe I had to endure on resisting the Imperius Curse. Now, if you will all open your books to page — what is it, Mr. Finnigan?"

"Sir," said Seamus, "I've been wondering, how you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the paper about an Inferius —"

"No, there wasn't," said Snape in a bored voice.

"But sir, I heard people talking —"

"If you had actually read the article in question, Mr. Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Inferius was nothing but a smelly sneak thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher."

"I thought Snape and Mundungus were on the same side," muttered Harry to Ron and Hermione.

"But he is a sneaky thief," Snape defended himself.

"And probably the reason that he is in the order," said Frank. At the others' confused looks he explained, "As a thief…or something like that, he would have access to ways and secrets that the others won't. And such information would probably be needed."

The Trio grimaced slightly on remembering the loss that they had to sustained owing to Mundungus's cowardliness. Though, he had been useful in his own way.

"Shouldn't he be upset Mundungus has been arrest —?"

"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject," said Snape, pointing suddenly at the back of the room, his black eyes fixed on Harry. "Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost."

The whole class looked around at Harry, who hastily tried to recall what Dumbledore had told him the night that they had gone to visit Slughorn. "Er — well — ghosts are transparent —" he said.

"What an amazing answer!" remarking Sirius, trying to keep his expression neutral. "It was very informational!"

"Oh, shut up!" Harry snapped back at his Godfather, while glaring at Ron and Hermione who were also smirking.

"Oh, very good," interrupted Snape, his lip curling. "Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. 'Ghosts are transparent."

"I can place his sarcasm totally," said Lily, shaking her head at her son. "Everyone knows that ghosts are transparent, Harry. Though, Severus could have been a little less sarcastic about it."

"I should have been," Severus accepted. "And, anyways the answer is not wrong. It is one of the most elementary points of distinction between the two."

Pansy Parkinson let out a high-pitched giggle. Several other people were smirking. Harry took a deep breath and continued calmly, though his insides were boiling, "Yeah, ghosts are transparent, but Inferi are dead bodies, aren't they? So they'd be solid —"

"A five-year-old could have told us as much," sneered Snape.

"A five-year old wouldn't have known about Inferi," Snape pointed out (to his older self?). "At least, I hope so."

"We know that, Severus," remarked Molly, a little irritated at being interrupted so often. "And please stop commenting on your future self. You don't have to snap at all your words and actions. We know that you are a surly, old git and probably love saying and doing things out of spite."

"Hey!" exclaimed Snape, glaring daggers at Molly who's comment had caused everyone in the room to burst out laughing once more.

"The Inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard's spells. It is not alive; it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard's bidding. A ghost, as I trust that you are all aware by now, is the imprint of a departed soul left upon the earth, and of course, as Potter so wisely tells us, transparent. "

"Even the thought of them is enough to give you the creeps," remarked Arthur. "I do hope you three never encounter them, at least." Hermione and Ron smirked at Harry; just a couple of months later or so their friend would be facing not just one, but an entire horde of Inferi.

"Well, what Harry said is the most useful if we're trying to tell them apart!" said Ron. "When we come face-to-face with one down a dark alley, we're going to be having a look to see if its solid, aren't we, we're not going to be asking, 'Excuse me, are you the imprint of a departed soul?'" There was a ripple of laughter, instantly quelled by the look Snape gave the class.

"That was a little uncalled for, Ron." said James, though he was looking amused at Ron's retort. "After all, Severus is a Professor."

Minerva grinned at him. "I am glad you think so, Mr. Potter," she said. "But, I must say that I am surprised. Very much so, considering the cheeky remarks that you and your gang come up with during the lessons."

"Well, he is my son," James defended himself. "I have to be a little responsible, even if it's just a act!" Minerva shook her head at him, but her smile did not diminish.

"Another ten points from Gryffindor," said Snape. "I would expect nothing more sophisticated from you, Ronald Weasley, the boy so solid he cannot Apparate half an inch across a room."

"No!" whispered Hermione, grabbing Harry's arm as he opened his mouth furiously. "There's no point, you'll just end up in detention again, leave it!"

"Now open your books to page two hundred and thirteen," said Snape, smirking a little, "and read the first two paragraphs on the Cruciatus Curse."

Ron was very subdued all through the class. When the bell sounded at the end of the lesson, Lavender caught up with Ron and Harry (Hermione mysteriously melted out of sight as she approached) and abused Snape hotly for his jibe about Ron's Apparition, but this seemed to merely irritate Ron, and he shook her off by making a detour into the boys' bathroom with Harry.

"At least you two could have called me back," Hermione said. "I was getting totally bored."

"In the Boy's bathroom, Mi?" asked Harry slyly, winking at Ron. "Then I would have had to leave the two of you alone! But, a Prefect like you breaking rules…" Harry trailed off, raising his eyebrows suggestively at Hermione.

"You Idiot!" Hermione snapped, smacking Harry's head with a cushion. Both she and Ron had turned bright red, though Ron was looking slightly amused too.

"Snape's right, though, isn't he?" said Ron, after staring into a cracked mirror for a minute or two. "I dunno whether it's worth me taking the test. I just can't get the hang of Apparition."

"You might as well do the extra practice sessions in Hogsmeade and see where they get you," said Harry reasonably. "It'll be more interesting than trying to get into a stupid hoop anyway. Then, if you're still not — you know — as good as you'd like to be, you can postpone the test, do it with me over the summer — Myrtle, this is the boys' bathroom!"

"She's still got a crush on you?" Alice asked mischievously.

Harry mumbled "No" at the same time that Hermione replied with a "Yes". The others, obviously, though Hermione to be more believable in this regard and poor Harry had to be at the receiving end of their 'teasing laughter' yet again.

The ghost of a girl had risen out of the toilet in a cubicle behind them and was now floating in midair, staring at them through thick, white, round glasses. "Oh," she said glumly. "It's you two."

"Who were you expecting?" said Ron, looking at her in the mirror.

"Nobody," said Myrtle, picking moodily at a spot on her chin. "He said he'd come back and see me, but then you said you'd pop in and visit me too" — she gave Harry a reproachful look — "and I haven't seen you for months and months. I've learned not to expect too much from boys."

"I thought you lived in that girls' bathroom?" said Harry, who had been careful to give the place a wide berth for some years now.

"I do," she said, with a sulky little shrug, "but that doesn't mean I can't visit other places. I came and saw you in your bath once, remember?"

"Like I could ever forget that!" Harry groaned, trying to block out the smirks that his father and his godfather were sending his way.

"I don't envy you for that, Mate," said Ron, looking horrified even after all these years.

"No one can," remarked Remus, chuckling softly.

"Vividly," said Harry.

"But I thought he liked me," she said plaintively. "Maybe if you two left, he'd come back again. We had lots in common. I'm sure he felt it."

And she looked hopefully toward the door. "When you say you had lots in common," said Ron, sounding rather amused now, "d'you mean he lives in an S-bend too?"

"Does it pain you to be a little sensitive, Ronald?" asked Hermione, probably for the 1000th thousandth time in all these years.

"She was a ghost, Hermione!" Ron defended himself.

"But, she still has feelings," Lily cut in. "And, it wasn't her fault that the Basilisk thought to end her life. She was still very young." Ron flushed a little and mumbled a general 'Sorry'.

"No," said Myrtle defiantly, her voice echoing loudly around the old tiled bathroom. "I mean he's sensitive, people bully him too, and he feels lonely and hasn't got anybody to talk to, and he's not afraid to show his feelings and cry!"

"There's been a boy in here crying?" said Harry curiously. "A young boy?"

"That's surprising," Frank said. "Who, on earth, could it be?" Harry winced a little thinking of the things he did; the spell he cast, when he had encountered 'the boy who cried in the loo'. Hermione felt him wince and took his hand squeezing it reassuringly.

"Never you mind!" said Myrtle, her small, leaky eyes fixed on Ron, who was now definitely grinning. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, and I'll take his secret to the —"

"— not the grave, surely?" said Ron with a snort. "The sewers, maybe." Myrtle gave a howl of rage and dived back into the toilet, causing water to slop over the sides and onto the floor. Goading Myrtle seemed to have put fresh heart into Ron. "You're right," he said, swinging his schoolbag back over his shoulder, "I'll do the practice sessions in Hogsmeade before I decide about taking the test."

"Isn't he a pleasant fellow?" Hermione turned to Harry and said sarcastically.

Harry grinned back at her. "That's why you love him," he teased her. "So that you can rectify all his faults. We all know how much you love doing that!" Hermione struck out her tongue at him childishly, and gestured Molly to continue reading.

And so the following weekend, Ron joined Hermione and the rest of the sixth years who would turn seventeen in time to take the test in a fortnight. Harry felt rather jealous watching them all get ready to go into the village; he missed making trips there, and it was a particularly fine spring day, one of the first clear skies they had seen in a long time. However, he had decided to use the time to attempt another assault on the Room of Requirement.

"You'd do better," said Hermione, when he confided this plan to Ron and her in the entrance hall, "to go straight to Slughorn's office and try and get that memory from him."

"I've been trying!" said Harry crossly, which was perfectly true. He had lagged behind after every Potions lesson that week in an attempt to corner Slughorn, but the Potions master always left the dungeon so fast that Harry had not been able to catch him. Twice, Harry had gone to his office and knocked, but received no reply, though on the second occasion he was sure he had heard the quickly stifled sounds of an old gramophone.

"Oh Dear!" Lily moaned. "It is going to be so difficult for you to catch him off-guard. I just can't think of any way that you can do it!"

"Oh don't worry, Lils," said James, in what he clearly thought was a soothing voice though it had more than a tang of arrogance and pride. "Harry is very resourceful. He will find a way, and a brilliant one at that."

Harry grinned; happy that his father was proud of him, though he wasn't the one who had thought about using the Felix. He had his friends, once again, to thank for that.

"He doesn't want to talk to me, Hermione! He can tell I've been trying to get him on his own again, and he's not going to let it happen!"

"Well, you've just got to keep at it, haven't you?"

The short queue of people waiting to file past Filch, who was doing his usual prodding act with the Secrecy Sensor, moved forward a few steps and Harry did not answer in case he was overheard by the caretaker. He wished Ron and Hermione both luck, then turned and climbed the marble staircase again, determined, whatever Hermione said, to devote an hour or two to the Room of Requirement.

Once out of sight of the entrance hall, Harry pulled the Marauder's Map and his Invisibility Cloak from his bag. Having concealed himself, he tapped the map, murmured, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," and scanned it carefully.

As it was Sunday morning, nearly all the students were inside their various common rooms, the Gryffindors in one tower, the Ravenclaws in another, the Slytherins in the dungeons, and the Hufflepuffs in the basement near the kitchens. Here and there a stray person meandered around the library or up a corridor. There were a few people out in the grounds, and there, alone in the seventh-floor corridor, was Gregory Goyle.

"That probably means that Malfoy is in the room," Frank stated. "I don't think it would be very safe for you to go there alone. Malfoy might get more cronies to help."

"He can use the Invisibility Cloak," said James. "And, if he is careful nothing wrong will happen."

"And Malfoy can't do too much in the school," said Sirius. "The worst would be that Harrikins would get his nose broken, again."

"Some faith you all have," Harry murmured mutinously, causing Hermione to pinch his cheeks affectionately again. Despite knowing full well, that Harry hated it.

There was no sign of the Room of Requirement, but Harry was not worried about that; if Goyle was standing guard outside it, the room was open, whether the map was aware of it or not. He therefore sprinted up the stairs, slowing down only when he reached the corner into the corridor, when he began to creep, very slowly, toward the very same little girl, clutching her heavy brass scales that Hermione had so kindly helped a fortnight before. He waited until he was right behind her before bending very low and whispering, "Hello…you're very pretty, aren't you?"

"I never knew that you fancied Goyle, Mate" Ron teased Harry, even though his expression suggested that he found it sickening.

"Don't cause me to become sick," Harry murmured, looking quite green, which caused Hermione to glare at Ron. Clearly, she thought that the joke was in poor taste.

Goyle gave a high-pitched scream of terror, threw the scales up into the air, and sprinted away, vanishing from sight long before the sound of the scales smashing had stopped echoing around the corridor. Laughing, Harry turned to contemplate the blank wall behind which, he was sure, Draco Malfoy was now standing frozen, aware that someone unwelcome was out there, but not daring to make an appearance. It gave Harry a most agreeable feeling of power as he tried to remember what form of words he had not yet tried.

Yet this hopeful mood did not last long. Half an hour later, having tried many more variations of his request to see what Malfoy was up to, the wall was just as door less as ever. Harry felt frustrated beyond belief. Malfoy might be just feet away from him, and there was still not the tiniest shred of evidence as to what he was doing in there. Losing his patience completely, Harry ran at the wall and kicked it.

"OUCH!"

"Idiot," Hermione and Lily muttered; though in Hermione's case the tone was bordering on exasperation. And for good reason too, Harry thought. She had to put up with too many of his stupid stuff.

He thought he might have broken his toe; as he clutched it and hopped on one foot, the Invisibility Cloak slipped off him.

"Harry?"

He spun around, one-legged, and toppled over. There, to his utter astonishment, was Tonks, walking toward him as though she frequently strolled up this corridor.

"What're you doing here?" he said, scrambling to his feet again; why did she always have to find him lying on the floor?

"She was guarding the school, wasn't she?" asked Sirius. At Harry's nod he continued, "Maybe she was just feeling nostalgic?" he suggested.

"It wouldn't be surprising," said Remus. "And especially if she is still grieving Sirius."

Sirius mumbled something that sounded like 'Don't remind me', which caused Remus to look at him apologetically.

"I came to see Dumbledore," said Tonks. Harry thought she looked terrible: thinner than usual, her mouse-colored hair lank.

"His office isn't here," said Harry, "it's round the other side of the castle, behind the gargoyle —"

"I know," said Tonks. "He's not there. Apparently he's gone away again."

"Has he?" said Harry, putting his bruised foot gingerly back on the floor. "Hey — you don't know where he goes, I suppose?"

"No," said Tonks.

"What did you want to see him about?"

"Nothing in particular," said Tonks, picking, apparently unconsciously, at the sleeve of her robe. "I just thought he might know what's going on. I've heard rumors… people getting hurt."

"She's worried," Sirius murmured to himself. "But, about whom?"

"Could be Remus," James pointed out. "She knows him." The Trio barely suppressed a snigger at this.

"Could be someone else too," Lily said, fairly. "Or she could just be worried, you know, about the entire thing."

"Yeah, I know, it's all been in the papers," said Harry. "That little kid trying to kill his —"

"The Prophet's often behind the times," said Tonks, who didn't seem to be listening to him. "You haven't had any letters from anyone in the Order recently?"

"No one from the Order writes to me anymore," said Harry, "not since Sirius —"He saw that her eyes had filled with tears.

"Harry!" Lily reprimanded softly, as James hugged his friend.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled back, his heart clenching at the mention of Sirius's death. It was a bad habit that he just couldn't get rid of. Surprisingly, not even his parents' deaths affected him so badly. However, he knew that his apology was misplaced as Tonks wasn't upset on account of Sirius.

"I'm sorry," he muttered awkwardly. "I mean... I miss him, as well."

"What?" said Tonks blankly, as though she had not heard him. "Well. I'll see you around, Harry." And she turned abruptly and walked back down the corridor, leaving Harry to stare after her. After a minute or so, he pulled the Invisibility Cloak on again and resumed his efforts to get into the Room of Requirement, but his heart was not in it. Finally, a hollow feeling in his stomach and the knowledge that Ron and Hermione would soon be back for lunch made him abandon the attempt and leave the corridor to Malfoy who, hopefully, would be too afraid to leave for some hours to come.

He found Ron and Hermione in the Great Hall, already halfway through an early lunch.

"Didn't even wait for me," said Harry, pouting a bit.

"You know how Ron is about food, Harry," Hermione countered. "He can't wait to gobble down things."

"Don't tease, Mione," said Ron almost pleadingly. Harry could sympathize with him, knowing his weakness for food. And, it wasn't something to be laughed at either. It was difficult to grow up in a large family, who were poor. Though, Mrs. Weasley made sure to always keep a surplus of food.

"I did it — well, kind of!" Ron told Harry enthusiastically when he caught sight of him. "I was supposed to be Apparating to outside Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop and I overshot it a bit, ended up near Scrivenshafts, but at least I moved!"

"Good one," said Harry. "How'd you do, Hermione?"

"Oh, she was perfect, obviously," said Ron, before Hermione could answer. "Perfect deliberation, divination, and desperation or whatever the hell it is — we all went for a quick drink in the Three Broomsticks after and you should've heard Twycross going on about her — I'll be surprised if he doesn't pop the question soon —"

"So, did he?" Sirius could not resist teasing, for which he got a well-aimed cushion on the head. But, the main thing was that the cushion was charmed to be heavier, and bloody hell hurt. He could completely sympathize with his Godson who had felt that cushion on his head much too often.

"And what about you?" asked Hermione, ignoring Ron. "Have you been up at the Room of Requirement all this time?"

"Yep," said Harry. "And guess who I ran into up there? Tonks!"

"Tonks?" repeated Ron and Hermione together, looking surprised.

"Yeah, she said she'd come to visit Dumbledore."

"If you ask me," said Ron once Harry had finished describing his conversation with Tonks, "she's cracking up a bit. Losing her nerve after what happened at the Ministry."

"She wasn't," Ron mumbled softly, almost whispering. "She was one of the bravest women I know. Imagine having to leave her baby to fight by her husband's side. Any average woman couldn't have done that."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "She was extremely brave and a wonderful woman."

"It's a bit odd," said Hermione, who for some reason looked very concerned. "She's supposed to be guarding the school, why'd she suddenly abandoning her post to come and see Dumbledore when he's not even here?"

"I had a thought," said Harry tentatively. He felt strange about voicing it; this was much more Hermione's territory than his. "You don't think she can have been... you know... in love with Sirius?"

"Excuse me," Sirius spluttered, looking indignant. "Tonks is my cousin. She can't possibly be in love with me. If it is love that's ailing her, then it must be someone else."

"She might have had a crush on you, Sirius," said Lily. "You can't be sure about that."

Sirius shook his head firmly. "I am sure," he said. "And if it is another boy, then I am going to beat him up real bad if he dares to hurt Dora."

Harry had to stuff his fingers in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud and giving away the secret. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw both Ron and Hermione facing the same predicament. Molly grinned at Sirius' words and resumed the chapter.

Hermione stared at him. "What on earth makes you say that?"

"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging, "but she was nearly crying when I mentioned his name, and her Patronus is a big four-legged thing now. I wondered whether it hadn't become... you know... him."

"It's a thought," said Hermione slowly. "But I still don't know why she'd be bursting into the castle to see Dumbledore, if that's really why she was here."

"Goes back to what I said, doesn't it?" said Ron, who was now shoveling mashed potato into his mouth. "She's gone a bit funny. Lost her nerve. Women," he said wisely to Harry, "they're easily upset."

"And boys are not?" countered Lily, sarcastically. "Boys are much more sensitive than girls; they just act all macho and bury their feelings."

"Not really!" said Ron, sounding affronted. "Guys don't blubber like girls do." Both Hermione and Harry fixed him with a pointed look which made him blush red. After all, he had cried in front of both of them, more often than once. Especially after the final battle when he had to grieve for Fred. His friends (i.e. friend and girlfriend) had been solid pillars of support for him.

"And yet," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie, "I doubt you'd find a woman who sulked for half an hour because Madam Rosmerta didn't laugh at their joke about the hag, the Healer, and the Mimbulus Mimbletonia."

Ron scowled.

"A woman, no," said Remus. "But, Padfoot sulked for exactly the same reason. Only, it was a prank that Rosmerta failed to laugh at."

"She hurt me!" Sirius declared stubbornly, crossing his arms on his chest. "And that was a jolly good prank!"

"Whatever," said Frank, smirking. "Anyways, I read next. And, you guys still have to tell us about your Fifth year."

"You already know most of it," said Harry. "But, we can summarize things after a chapter or two."

"Perfect," replied Frank, opening the book to the right page.