"How'd you sleep?" Sirius asked, stepping out of the now familiar passage between his office and the Room. Harry was sitting on one of the couches, bags under his eyes.

"Terribly," Harry said, which wasn't unexpected given what had transpired the night before. What was unexpected was that he seemed oddly chipper about it. Sirius arched an eyebrow. "I didn't dream," he said, then looked past Sirius to Quirrell.

"At all?"

"Not because of Voldemort," Harry said, with grim certainty.

"Curious," Quirrell mused. "I'd have expected him to capitalise on Bagman's death."

"Yeah," Harry said, "except you and Snape said our minds didn't just connect, that I was actually inside his." The whole thing was terrifying; Snape and Quirrell had disagreed on some things - Snape thought Voldemort's constant use of the door had weakened it and left it unstable, Quirrell thought it had been the strong emotion that pulled Harry through - but they'd both agreed that when the connection between Harry and Voldemort opened, Harry had unknowingly gone down it and possessed Voldemort so completely that neither of them had realised they weren't the same person for quite a few minutes. "Right?"

"Yes," Quirrell said cautiously.

"So I suspect he's shut it now," Harry said. "Tightly. What happened was an accident and he had no control over it - he thought we were the same too, until he eventually realised and pushed me out. He can't risk that happening again, not this close to the last task, in case I see something important. I think he's going to back off a bit."

There was something thoughtful and hopeful, and yet certain in Harry's voice, and it was something Sirius hadn't heard for a long time. Something Harry.

"That would make sense," Sirius said, glancing between them.

"It would." Quirrell smiled. "And that gives us time, Potter, time to get you trained up; he may well find he's not able to get in again, the next time he tries."

Knowing how complicated the mind arts were, and how strong in them Voldemort was, Sirius doubted it would be quite that easy, but Merlin, it was a nice thought.

"No time like the present," he said, and made to excuse himself.

"Stay this morning, Black," Quirrell said. "I suspect Potter's right, but after last night, I'd feel better if we were supervised."

"Why?" Sirius said, giving Quirrell a sharp look, even as he settled on the other end of Harry's couch. Up until now, Quirrell had been resistant to Sirius' presence, and Sirius didn't think the change of heart was because Quirrell suddenly trusted him or valued his opinion on whatever was going on in Harry's head.

"I didn't get a good look last night," Quirrell said. "But what I did see was… like nothing I've seen before." His voice was distant, troubled. "Until I've had another look - a better one - and know what we're dealing with, I'd like someone on hand to respond if things go poorly."

Sirius didn't find that at all comforting, but he just nodded and settled back into the cushions.

"Ready, Potter?" Harry shifted on the couch and nodded. "Legillimens."

Harry twitched - presumably as Quirrell entered his mind - and then went very still. Sirius glanced at Quirrell, but he looked intense and slightly pained, and yet blank, which was possibly worse. At least Harry didn't look like he was hurting, but that didn't make it any more comfortable to watch.

Mind arts, it seemed, were not a spectator sport unless you were on the inside.

Minutes trickled by. Sirius wished he'd thought to bring some of his marking with him, but doubted he'd have been able to focus; every now and then, Harry or Quirrell would shift slightly or make a soft sound, or their expression would change, and Sirius would stare and wonder what it meant, and what they were seeing.

His Sidekick burned.

"Black," he said, flipping it open. The small owl symbol was glowing faintly. "Robards."

"Thought I might have woken you," Robards said. Sirius snorted. He cast a look at Quirrell before deciding that it didn't matter what Quirrell overheard - even if he was listening - since his Vow would stop him from using any of the information against them. "How's Potter this morning?"

"He's… okay," Sirius said, and was fairly sure he meant it. "Did you sleep last night?"

"Not much," Robards said. "I've managed to get my hands on a list of everyone who was at the briefing. McKinnon was right - half the damn Ministry was there. But, as a preliminary measure, I've cross-referenced that list with the list of suspects who were in the room when Munch disappeared, and with the list you provided me with after the second task." That was the list Sirius had got from Snape, who'd got it from Merlin-knew-where. "Common across all three, in no particular order are Thicknesse, Runcorn, Jorkins, Sprottle, Pemberley, Dumbledore, Umbridge, McKinnon, Bagman, and Diggory. We can remove Bagman as a suspect in his own murder, I think-" Sirius snorted. "I also think we can remove Dumbledore and McKinnon."

"Agreed," Sirius said. "I-"

There was a hiss and then Quirrell collapsed back against his couch. Harry rubbed the side of his head, blinking.

"Got to go, sorry," Sirius said into his Sidekick. "I'll get back in touch again in a bit." Robards made a noise of assent and Sirius snapped his device shut.

"Sorry, Potter," Quirrell said, and Harry waved a hand.

"So?" Sirius said. "You both look like you're in one piece-"

"Because we couldn't find it," Quirrell said, massaging his temples.

"It was just gone," Harry added.

"It can't be gone," Quirrell said, in a tone that made Sirius think the pair of them had already had this conversation in Harry's head. "Concealed, yes, but not completely removed."

"How?" he asked. "Voldemort?"

"He ought not to have any access into Potter's head if the door's closed," Quirrell said. "So no."

"Could he have set it up to become hidden when he wants it to be?" Sirius asked.

"Not without leaving traces of Himself there to follow back to the hidden thing," Quirrell said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I suspect Potter's mind would have rejected them, or at least been easily able to locate them, if that were the case."

"I- right," Sirius said. "So where is it?"

"If I knew that, we wouldn't be-"

"You said you thought I was hiding it," Harry said, frowning, and with an edge to his tone that said he didn't agree with that idea at all.

"It's the most likely option," Quirrell said, frowning right back. Sirius glanced between them. "To hide it so completely that neither of us can find it despite having seen it and interacted with it previously would be almost impossible to do inside your head unless you yourself were doing it."

"But I'm not."

"Not consciously," Quirrell said, and there was no bite to his tone, or impatience; instead, he was oddly gentle - patient, and more than a bit curious.

"Voldemort's good at hiding memories, though," Sirius said, thinking of what he'd done to Snape back in first year. "And he knows Harry's head."

"He hasn't hidden a memory." Quirrell said. "This is… something else. And regardless, Potter still knows what we're looking for." Quirrell folded one leg over the other. "And I'm not sure He does know Potter's head… Potter didn't give me the impression He's spent much time there Himself. Certainly He's looked inside - like one might look through a window - and we know He's been pushing memories or information down the connection, but when we consider actual time inside… I think it's been extremely limited." He glanced at Harry who looked uncertain. "You'd know," Quirrell said. "You were aware immediately when the bit of Riddle from the diary entered your mind a few years ago."

"Right," Harry said. "But how could it be gone- hidden? You said we were a linked pair, like the cabinets. It shouldn't just stop existing-"

"Oh, it still exists," Quirrell said. "Of that I have no doubt. He is simply quiet on His end - deliberately - and you have likely concealed yours."

"Why would I hide it?" Harry asked, scowling. "Even if it's subconscious - I want us to be able to find it."

"Can you consciously decide not to hide it?" Sirius asked Harry, but looked at Quirrell.

"Not easily, I wouldn't think," Quirrell said, watching Harry. "To do so you'd have to know how you'd hidden it, then do the reverse. Given Potter's had almost no Occlumency training, however he's gone about hiding whatever this is is likely some sort of natural defence his mind's put in place."

"Then how do we find it again?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps next time, we have you reach out to Him and hope in doing so you reveal the door. Perhaps we wait for the door to open from His side again." Harry's expression darkened. "Perhaps - though we'd have to be truly desperate - we could exhaust you mentally in the hope that you're mentally too weak to keep the door hidden." Harry set his jaw in a way that Sirius knew meant he'd be prepared to try that.

"Maybe the door's hidden for a reason," Sirius said. "If it's a natural defence-"

"I don't think it's the door that he's hiding," Quirrell said.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I said the first time we spoke about all this that before we could fix the problem, we had to understand it. Being able to close the door is a temporary measure - something to give you some control and let you get some sleep - rather than a solution. I still don't understand the connection - like I said, I only got a brief look last night, and I'd never seen anything like it… We know there is a door, but we still don't know how it got there in the first place."

"Do you have guesses?" Sirius asked.

"If Potter's mind can hide it this completely without him knowing, I'd suspect it's been there a while. And it looked… established. As for the how…" Quirrell shook his head. "The only way we'll ever know is if we find it again so the only option is to keep looking. And, in the meantime, I'll teach you what I can about the mind arts so you can eventually keep it shut."

"I think avoiding the Cup and crests entirely is a good idea," Hermione said, pushing sweaty curls out of her face.

"Because you want Krum to win?" Ginny asked slyly. She was a bit flushed still and Ron suspected he was too; they'd set the Room up as a maze and hunted Harry through it until Hermione begged for a break to debrief and rest and talk about the rest of the task.

"I don't, actually," Hermione said seriously. "I don't want anyone to win, because I agree with Harry that the whole thing's probably some sort of trap. Maybe the Cup's going to have poison on it, like that Snitch back in first year."

"Why waste poison when they could kill him off with a manticore or something inside the maze," Malfoy said. Ron snorted and so did Harry, but Harry sobered sooner. Even so, it was nice to have seen a bit of amusement on his face; he was sleeping again now, properly - Voldemort had left him alone since Harry's trip into his mind after Bagman's death - but more than that, there was a… determination or something in him again now, after months of weariness. Ron hadn't realised how much he'd missed it until it was back.

"He'll want me to win," Harry said. "Prove the power of his Champion and all. Then he'll probably try to kill me right after, to prove he's better."

"And you don't think he'll think you know that and so won't try to win?" Ron asked.

"Maybe," Harry said, glancing at Ginny.

"Maybe not," she said. "I don't think he'd be able to imagine giving up the opportunity to win something like this, so it might not occur to him that Harry might."

"Bagman had it figured," Malfoy said, with a grimace. Ginny shrugged.

"Even if it has occurred to him, I still think avoiding them's a good strategy," Hermione said.

"Easier said than done, I bet," Ron said.

"Maybe," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We know the Cup's in the centre - you said they told you that in the briefing." Harry nodded. "And we know it's going to be rectangular." Ron had gone back down to the pitch with Harry for another look a few days ago; access to the pitch was restricted and under guard now that the task had been announced - to prevent tampering or cheating or both - and so naturally, they'd used Harry's cloak to sneak past. Ron had even suggested they try to draw the maze's path based on what they could see, but someone had thought of that; the maze had changed several times even in the few minutes they were there, closing off paths and creating new ones. The plants making the maze were part Devil's Snare… or so Neville said; Harry'd had the bright idea of taking a leaf to show to him and that's what he'd said when he saw it. "So, it's likely, I think-" She traced a quick rectangle onto the floor (the Room leaving a line where her finger had been), and then put a star at the centre of it. "-that they'll put a crest in each corner." She drew four crosses to make her point.

"Probably," Harry said.

"Or here," Malfoy said, and added four dots, each halfway between each of Hermione's crosses around the border of the rectangle.

"That's possible too," she said. "Really, they could be anywhere, but I imagine they'll have them spread out so they're not too close together, and doing it one of those ways would make the most sense."

Ron thought she was probably right.

"Got that?" he asked Harry. "Just avoid the entire maze."

"Makes sense," Harry said, then huffed a laugh.

"Is there a way to find them, do you think?" Ron asked, looking between Harry and Hermione. "You've used Point me before, but would that work for these, do you think?"

"Probably not," Hermione said. "I wonder if they'll be magical… If they are, you might be able to track them. Are you thinking he finds them so he can avoid them?"

"Pretty much," Ron said.

"Mother's had Dobby use locating charms on her jewellery before, if she's misplaced it," Malfoy offered. "Some of the old heirloom pieces aren't able to be summoned, so that's the only way to do it. I think it's quite fiddly though; you'd need to know exactly what you're looking for so you don't get a hundred other bits of gold showing up as well."

"Wouldn't know what that's like," Ron said, and Malfoy grimaced. Ron laughed. "It's a good idea, though. I just don't know how we're going to find out what they are."

"The crests will be hard," Hermione said, "since I imagine they're being made just for this. The Cup, though… that's been around for centuries." She pushed herself up off the floor and headed up the stairs to peruse the Room's wall of books.

"Bill might have ideas," Ginny said. "He's always trying to find treasure."

"I always got the impression Bill relied more on information and instinct and luck to find things," Ron said.

"Me too," Ginny said, mouth twitching. "But you never know."

"One way to find out," Ron said, and lifted a hand. A quill floated down from the upstairs sitting area and into his hand, followed shortly after by a piece of parchment. It never got old, wandless magic. He grinned when he saw Harry watching and Harry shrugged, probably thinking along the same lines.

"Yes, yes," Malfoy said, "You're very talented, Weasley. Stop encouraging him, Potter."

Harry grinned, then looked up a moment before Hermione said, "I was right." Her voice was thick with satisfaction. Barely taking her eyes off the page, Hermione made her way back down to them. Ron had the Room change the stairs to a gently sloping ramp so she wouldn't trip, and Hermione - who didn't notice until she was almost all the way down - flashed a smile at him. Ron smiled back and returned his attention to the letter he was supposed to be writing. "This tells us exactly what the Cup's made of."

"Then my idea will work," Malfoy said, and gave Ron a light kick; the B in Bill turned into more of an R as his quill went off track. "Watch this: I can summon things wandlessly too. Dobby."

There was a pop as Dobby appeared, wearing one of Malfoy's old silk pyjama shirts, a pair of bright swimming shorts, what looked like a Gryffindor Quidditch sock, and one velvet slipper.

"Dobby's not a thing, Draco," Hermione said, frowning. Ginny chose that moment to try to hex Harry, who had his wand up to bat the spell away in a blink. The spell collided harmlessly against a wall.

"Nice," she said, and Harry grinned.

"How are you, Dobby?" Hermione asked, ignoring them.

"Dobby is being good, Miss," Dobby squeaked, beaming at her, then looked around the Room. "Harry Potter and Master Draco." Malfoy made a face, probably because he'd come second to Harry, but it was fond. "And Harry Potter and Master Draco's Wheezys!"

"Hi Dobby," Ron said, and Ginny gave a little wave.

"Can Dobby be bringing food, Master Draco?" Dobby asked.

"No, thank you," Malfoy said. "We were wondering if you could teach us- well, Potter, really - how to track jewellery. Like you used to track Mother's when she misplaced it."

"Teach- teach Harry Potter?" Dobby asked, eyes growing enormous. His ears swung as he looked back and forward between Harry and Malfoy. "You is wanting Dobby to teach Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Malfoy said.

"Please," Harry added, and that was enough for poor Dobby, who burst into tears.

"Dobby will be doing whatever he can, Harry Potter, Dobby will always be happy to help-"

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said hastily, reaching forward to pat Dobby on the shoulder.

"How are you going to teach Harry, Dobby?" Hermione asked. "House elves don't use wands, or incantations the way we do."

"Speak for yourself," Ron teased, and she rolled her eyes and gave his knee a light smack with her book.

"They don't," Harry said. "But their magic does the same thing as spells, a lot of the time. I reckon we can do it. Kreacher's taught me magic before, so I'm sure Dobby can."