Chapter 9: Silver And Opals

I do not own Harry Potter and I am not making any money from writing this whatsoever. The Harry Potter franchise is the property of Warner Brother's and J.K Rowling.

"It'll take more than you've got."

- Ghost Rider to Frank Castle, 1994.

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Where was Dumbledore and what was he doing?

Harry caught sight of the headmaster only twice over the next few weeks. He rarely appeared at meals anymore, and Harry was sure Hermione was right in thinking that he was leaving the school for days at a time. Had Dumbledore forgotten the lessons he was supposed to be giving Harry? Dumbledore had said that the lessons were leading to something to do with the prophecy; Harry had felt bolstered, comforted, and now he felt slightly abandoned. All the talk of Horcrux's, and how he planned to destroy them with Johnny and Harry's help felt like hollow words now. Though perhaps Harry was being unfair, locating a Horcrux was likely no easy task.

Halfway through October came their first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. Harry had wondered whether these trips would still be allowed, given the increasingly tight security measures around the school, but was pleased to know that they were going ahead; it was always good to get out of the castle grounds for a few hours.

He had spent last night reading through the Prince's potions textbook, even testing one of the spells written in the margins of the book out. It had hoisted Ron up into the air by his ankle, which, while he felt bad for doing while his best friend was sleeping, was admittedly pretty funny. Even the next morning, Ron was laughing about it as he told Hermione what had happened.

Hermione, however, was not as amused. She had not cracked a smile during Ron's retelling, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?" She asked.

Harry frowned at her.

"Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?"

"Was it?"

"Well... well yeah, it was, but so what?"

"So you just decided to try out an unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?"

"Why does it matter if it's handwritten?" Harry said, preferring not to answer the rest of the question.

"Because it's probably not Ministry of Magic–approved," Hermione said. "And also," she added, as Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, "because I'm starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy."

Both Harry and Ron shouted her down at once.

"It was a laugh!" Ron said, upending a ketchup bottle over his sausages. "Just a laugh, Hermione, that's all!"

"Dangling people upside down by their ankles? Where have we seen that before?" She asked.

Immediately, Harry knew what she was talking about. The Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup just over two years ago did the same thing to the people there. Harry frowned.

"That was different," Ron said, coming to his defence once again. "Harry was just having a laugh. You don't like the Prince, Hermione," Ron added, pointing a sausage at her sternly, "because he's better than you at Potions -"

"It's got nothing to do with that!" Hermione said, her cheeks reddening. "I just think it's very irresponsible to start performing spells when you don't even know what they're for. And stop talking about 'the Prince' as if it's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname, and it doesn't seem as though he was a very nice person to me!"

"I don't see how-" Ron started, but quickly stopped as Johnny walked over.

"Here," he said, holding a small note out to Harry. "Dumbledore's next lesson."

Harry looked up to the staff table, but the headmaster wasn't there.

"It was in my room when I woke up this morning," Johnny said in explanation.

Harry read the note, indeed, it did say to show this to him. The next meeting was Monday evening.

He opened his mouth to say thank you to him, but Hermione spoke first.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade, Johnny?"

Johnny looked at Hermione, and he flushed. Harry was confused.

"I was thinking about it, yeah."

"You should come with us," Hermione said, smiling. Anger and suspicion over the Prince and his book seemingly forgotten.

"O-okay," Johnny replied. They looked at each other for a few moments before Johnny jabbed his thumb in the direction of the entrance to the hall. "I gotta go do my patrols, I'll see you later."

Harry turned his head to smirk at Hermione as Johnny left, but caught Ron's sour expression and thought better of it.

The trip to Hogsmeade would be entertaining, at least.

Filch was standing at the oak front doors as usual, checking off the names of people who had permission to go into Hogsmeade. The process took even longer than normal as Filch was triple-checking everybody with his Secrecy Sensor.

"What does it matter if we're smuggling Dark stuff OUT?" Ron demanded, eyeing the long thin Secrecy Sensor with apprehension. "Surely you ought to be checking what we bring back IN?"

His cheek earned him a few extra jabs with the Sensor, and he was still wincing as they stepped out into the wind and sleet.

The walk into Hogsmeade was not enjoyable. Harry wrapped his scarf over his lower face; the exposed part soon felt both raw and numb. He saw Hermione wave her wand at Johnny and he smiled at her.

"Warming charm," he said in explanation.

"Yes," Hermione said, nudging Johnny with her arm. "So he can look cool in his leather jacket and not freeze to death."

The road to the village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. More than once Harry wondered whether they might not have had a better time in the warm common room, and when they finally reached Hogsmeade and saw that Zonko's Joke Shop had been boarded up, Harry took it as confirmation that this trip was not destined to be fun. Ron pointed, with a thickly gloved hand, toward Honeydukes, which was mercifully open, and Harry, Johnny and Hermione staggered in his wake into the crowded shop.

"Thank Merlin," Ron shivered as they were enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air. "Let's stay here forever."

"Happily," Johnny said, eyeing some cauldron cakes. He turned to look at Hermione hopefully.

She crossed her arms and stared at him blankly for a few seconds before a grin eventually took over her face.

"Oh, go on then."

"Yes!"

They both moved on to grab some, leaving Harry and Ron alone together.

Harry cautiously looked at his best friend and was not surprised when his expression was sullen.

"Mate..." he started, but Ron raised a hand.

"Don't," Ron said forcefully. "Sorry. Just - don't though, 'kay? I know. I'll get over it eventually."

"I'm sorry," Harry said to him.

Ron shook his head. "Don't be. I spent too many years being a prat to her. It's on me."

Harry thought that was rather mature of him. He pulled his friend into a one-armed hug from the side. He didn't know what had come over him, but this seemed like the right thing to do.

"C'mon, take your pick. My treat."

Ron grinned, looking around at the candy emporium surrounding them, and then back at Harry.

"Cheers."

"Harry m'boy!" A booming voice said from behind him as Ron walked off to get some sweets. Professor Slughorn, who was wearing an enormous furry hat and an overcoat with matching fur collar, clutching a large bag of crystalized pineapple, and occupying at least a quarter of the shop. "Harry, that's three of my little suppers you've missed now!" Slughorn said, poking him genially in the chest. "It won't do, m'boy, I'm determined to have you! Miss Granger loves them, don't you?"

Hermione, whom Harry had not seen come back, nodded. Johnny was of course, by her side, carrying a bag that held a few cauldron cakes.

"Yes," Hermione said helplessly, "they're really -"

"So why don't you come along, Harry?" Slughorn demanded.

"Well, I've had Quidditch practice, Professor," Harry said. He'd been conveniently scheduling his practices to coincide with Slughorn's parties. And at least that also meant Ron was not left out. They usually had a laugh with Ginny imagining Hermione trapped there with McLaggen.

"Well, I certainly expect you to win your first match after all this hard work!" Slughorn said. "But a little recreation never hurt anybody. Now, how about Monday night, you can't possibly want to practice in this weather..."

"I can't, Professor, I've got - er - an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that evening."

"Unlucky again!" Slughorn cried dramatically. "Ah, well... you can't evade me forever, Harry!"

And with a regal wave, he left the shop.

"I can't believe you've wriggled out of another one," Hermione said, shaking her head. "They're not that bad, you know. They're even quite fun sometimes."

Johnny snorted, and Hermione glared at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "A night hearing Slughorn drone on doesn't sound appealing to me."

"He doesn't drone on," Hermione said defensively. "He likes to hear us talk about ourselves."

"Yeah, so he can figure out whether or not you're worth keeping around so he can ask a favour from you later," Harry said.

"That's - I mean," Hermione sputtered.

"C'mon," Johnny said, "there's no way you can't see that. Not every teacher needs to be held on some pedestal in your mind. Matter of fact, most are shit. At least in my experience. I can count on one hand how many teachers I've had that actually felt like they cared about my education."

Harry knew she was raised to respect authority figures, especially teachers, but to not see what was blatantly obvious? Hermione was too smart to do that. She was just conflicted.

"I don't understand why I'm there then," she said after a moment. "My parents are muggles."

Johnny scoffed and even Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

"I reckon it's because you're the smartest person in this school 'cept Dumbledore," Ron said, returning with bags of candy in hand.

Hermione blushed. "I-I'm not the-"

"Stop being so modest," Johnny said, "you know you're a genius." Her blush deepened.

Harry went to pay for Ron's things and then they all stood near the entrance, uneager to brave the cold once more.

"Where to next?" Johnny asked.

"I have to meet someone in the Three Broomsticks," Hermione said.

"Who?" Johnny asked, perhaps, Harry thought, a little too fast.

"Tonks, if you must know." She answered.

"Oh," he said, looking a little relieved.

To save himself from having to endure any further awkwardness, Harry took the initiative.

"Then let's go, shall we? Can't imagine the Three Broomsticks will be less full if we waited longer."

"I need another warming charm," Johnny muttered.

"Here," Harry said, waving his wand. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

They left Honeydukes, Hermione going a little ahead of them. He and Johnny walked side by side and Ron was at the back, still eating his candy.

"You need to be careful, mate," Harry said. "Hermione doesn't much like the protective thing." She was very independent, not that Harry could blame her. She had to work twice as hard due to her blood status.

"I know," Johnny muttered. "I can't help it. Wait-" he suddenly cut off. "You... you know?"

Harry raised a confused eyebrow. "That you like her?" Johnny nodded. Harry couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Sorry, but, mate, it's pretty obvious."

"It is?"

"Maybe not to her?" Harry said.

Johnny shook his head and sighed. "Girls always know, man."

They walked in silence for a bit, Harry watched students rushing off to do their shopping. Most, like them, were heading to the Three Broomsticks.

"Fuck," he heard Johnny mutter softly.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, more than Hermione had ever seen in her life. The extreme snowfall in October seemed to surprise everyone. Even with this though, it wasn't hard to find Tonks in the sea of people. Her purple hair would stand out anywhere.

Tonks was situated in a corner booth, her attire and scowl keeping away anybody who would deign to take the seat across from her.

The scowl lifted when she caught sight of Hermione though, morphing into a small smile.

"Wotcher," she greeted.

"How are you?" Hermione asked as she sat down.

"Not too bad," Tonks said, taking a sip of her Butterbeer. "Dreadfully boring here though. Here, got one for you too."

"Thank you." She said, Tonks nodded.

"I thought you'd bring the boys," Tonks said.

"They know I'm meeting you, but Ron wanted to order drinks first," Hermione explained.

Tonks looked over in the direction of the bar. Indeed, Ron was talking to Rosmerta, no doubt fumbling through his words. It was a running joke that he fancied the barkeep.

"So," Tonks said. "I take it you're ready to start then?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "I have my schedule figured out, and I'm ahead on my homework. I think we'd be able to meet once or twice on the weekend. Does that work for you?"

Tonks chuckled. "I'm really not that busy, so, yeah. That works for me. Is there anything specific you want to learn besides just duelling?"

"Not really," Hermione answered. "Duelling's my biggest weak point, I think." It was hard to admit that she wasn't good at something. But for the sake of getting better, Hermione knew she couldn't be prideful. Too often she had bemoaned silently at Harry's practical prowess in magic. She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself and start improving.

"Alright," Tonks said. "We can start this weekend if you like."

"That would be great," Hermione said.

"Cool." Tonks took another sip and Hermione did the same. "So, how's-"

"Fuck!"

Both of their heads snapped towards the bar, Tonks was halfway out of her seat.

Johnny had a man by the wrist, and it was twisting in a painful-looking way.

The bar was deathly silent.

Three other men stood up around him, wands pointed.

"We have you three to one." One of them said angrily. "Let go of his hand you prick."

Immediately, both Harry and Ron took out their wands and aimed at the men.

Johnny was still looking at the man he had by the wrist. He did not seem bothered by the people surrounding him.

"Maybe you oughta go back to school, hm? Seems like you forgot how to count."

"Why you little-"

"Alright, that's enough!"

Hermione had not even noticed Tonks get up, but she was now stepping between them. "I'm an Auror. Wands away, all of you. And sir, let go of his wrist."

She aimed that last part at Johnny, who looked confused for a moment at being addressed like that. He complied after hesitating only for a moment.

"He was saying some racist shit," Johnny said.

Tonks spared the man, who was cradling his wrist and looking down, a scathing look. "Even so, that doesn't give you the right to assault him."

Johnny glared at him angrily. "He'll be fine. He could heal that himself. But you won't say anything like that again, will you, asshole?"

"I said enough!" Tonks all but shouted. "You're coming with me."

Now, Johnny actually looked at her. "What?"

"You're coming with me," Tonks repeated forcefully.

Johnny looked for a moment like he wouldn't go, but something in Tonks' expression Hermione couldn't see must have convinced him to comply because he let her lead him out of the building.

Hermione quickly went to find Ron and Harry, who were both eyeing the men warily.

"What happened?" She asked.

Harry and Ron shared a look. "The guy was saying some foul stuff about muggles and muggleborns," Harry explained.

"He deserved it if you ask me," Ron said.

Hermione had half a mind to scold him, but she wanted to get to Johnny first. "Let's go after them and head back, I've got everything sorted with Tonks anyway."

"But I didn't even get my Butterbeer!" Ron complained, but said "nevermind." When she glared at him.

"Harry!" Someone called as the chatter in the bar resumed. They all turned to see Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini walking towards them.

"What just happened?" Tracey asked.

Harry explained it to them as well, and afterwards, Blaise had a scowl on his face.

"Sounds like he deserved it," Tracey said, and both Ron and Blaise nodded approvingly. "But what about your friend, Mr. Blaze? Will he be arrested?"

"Nah," Harry said, "the Auror is a friend of ours, I think she just wanted to get him out of there before it escalated. We were just about to go find them and head back."

"We'll come with you," Tracey said.

And so the five of them left the Three Broomsticks in search of Tonks and Johnny. They didn't have to look very hard.

Barely a few metres outside the front door they found the two of them conversing heatedly. Johnny had a scowl on his face.

"Fine," Hermione heard him say. "I'm sorry. I won't do anything like that again."

"Good," Tonks said, "because next time I might not be there to bail you out."

Johnny scoffed. "I could have taken them."

Tonks sighed. "That's not the point, you bloody idiot." She looked like she wanted to say more, but she saw them approaching.

"He's all yours," Tonks said. "Try not to let him get into any more trouble." She winked at Hermione. "I'll meet you in the entrance hall next Saturday after dinner?"

"Yes, that sounds good," Hermione said, "thanks again, Tonks."

"No problem," she gave Johnny one last look. "See you around guys."

"We were gonna head back to the castle," Harry said to Johnny.

"Whatever," Johnny shrugged. "Fine by me."

They walked back in silence, the crunching of the snow beneath their feet and the arguing voices of two girls ahead of them the only sounds for a little while.

Hermione kept shooting glances at Johnny. She wanted to say something, but couldn't put it into words. Or, at least not words that wouldn't cause him to get more mad. Why would he do that? Last year he had gotten mad at all of them for not being able to handle negative talk about his parents when he had heard it all his life. So what had the man said that set him off? Something terrible about muggles and muggleborns, she knew, but why would he get so upset at that? Unless...

"Have you completed Snape's essay yet?" Tracey asked quietly to Harry. In the tense silence though, Hermione heard it clearly.

"No," Harry admitted, "I've got the first half figured out, but I still need to work on good spells to use against Inferi that aren't fire-based."

"We could work on it together, i-if you wanted, I mean. In the library." Tracey said, thanks to the cold, Hermione didn't think Harry would think she was blushing. He could be a little thick sometimes though.

Ron, who was beside Harry and partially blocked from Tracey's view, jabbed Harry in the arm.

"Oh, y-yeah. That'd be great. Yeah."

Tracey smiled up at him.

And then a blood-curdling scream made them all jump.

Hermione had not really paid much attention to the duo in front of them, or their voices as they argued.

One of them rose into the air, limbs outstretched and she was screaming. Her companion was too.

"Katie!"

Katie? Katie Bell?

They were all running forward now. The other girl tried to tug Katie down by her ankles, and Johnny went to help.

He was able to get her down with one tug, and she collapsed into his arms. But as soon as he had her, Katie started writhing.

Johnny dropped her in surprise. Hermione eyed a couple of beads of what had to be a necklace peeking out from a ripped brown package. She stepped forward a little to bend down.

Johnny's hand shot out to stop her, grabbing at her scarf and pushing her back a little.

"Don't get near it!" He shouted over the now howling wind that had seemingly come out of nowhere. The scarf was nearly ripped in half.

He swooped down and picked up Katie again, who was still screaming and writhing. He held her tight and started moving off quickly towards the castle. Slowly, the screaming faded as he got farther and farther away.

Once he was gone, she took out her wand and levitated the necklace in its package, and wrapped her scarf around it carefully where the package was torn, all with her wand.

"Leanne, right?" She asked the girl.

Leanne nodded.

"Let's go back," she said over the wind. "I'm sure Katie will be okay. Let's get you in the castle where it's warmer."

Once at the castle's entrance, they could see Johnny speaking to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Katie was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Filch.

"Professor!" Hermione called to Professor McGonagall.

"Ms. Granger, is that the object?" She asked.

"Yes," Hermione answered, floating the package over to a bench.

The two teachers carefully extracted the necklace from the packaging and Hermione's scarf with magic. Professor Snape stepped forward to analyze it.

"I've seen that necklace before," Harry said. "In Borgin and Burke's."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Since when do you go to Knockturn Alley, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked in surprise.

"No matter," Professor Snape interrupted. "The necklace is cursed, clearly, but now I recognize it too."

"Sir, I-" Harry started and stopped. "I think Draco Malfoy gave her that necklace."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron look away. Tracey and Blaise looked confused. Johnny did not look surprised.

"And why, Potter, would you say that?" Snape asked, sounding almost dangerous.

Harry hesitated, seemingly taken aback by his tone. "In my second year, I ended up there by accident, a-and I saw him looking at it like he wanted it."

"So you're making very dangerous claims based on something you saw four years ago?" Snape asked.

Harry flushed. "But-"

"It does not matter, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "You see, Draco Malfoy did not even go to Hogsmeade today. He was serving detention with me for failing to hand in homework for the fifth day in a row."

Harry looked stumped and stayed silent.

"I'll go tell Poppy what countercurses to use," Snape said, levitating the necklace and leaving the room with the flap of his cape.

"Is this your scarf, Ms. Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked. Holding out the ripped scarf to her. "It does not seem to be cursed from touching the necklace, so you may have it back."

"Thank you," she said.

"That's the one I gave you for your birthday," Ron said, "can it be fixed?"

"Yes," Hermione answered, hardly finding it important at the moment. "I can-"

"Your birthday passed already?" Johnny asked suddenly.

"Yes," Hermione repeated.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Johnny said, frowning.

"Does that really matter right now?" Hermione said a little harshly. Her mind was racing. If Harry was right about seeing Malfoy eye this necklace in Borgin and Burke's all those years ago, could he have remembered it now? She didn't believe he could be a Death Eater before, but this was a little too coincidental to keep assuming that.

She completely missed Johnny's hurt expression.

Screams. That's what his dream that night was filled with.

Johnny was locked in the cell again, the smoke from fire almost choking him. An endless scream pierced the usual silence. It sounded like the one of the girl from earlier in the day, but it soon morphed into one that sounded more like a boy's.

He wanted to get out if anything just to shut the boy up himself. He stood to try and open the gate.

An invisible force kept him back.

"Wait your turn," a voice called from up the stairs, easily heard over the screaming somehow. It was the raspy one he had heard in his last dream here.

"Fuck you," he said defiantly.

The voice chuckled. "You need me, kid. But I can't help you right now."

"Why the fuck would I need you?" Feeling a wave of all too familiar anger rising up in him. "Why am I here? Who are you?"

Silence. Even the screaming stopped.

Johnny banged against the cell door, there was no barrier holding him back now, but the cell door did not budge.

"Who are you?!" He shouted.

"An old friend," a voice whispered from right beside him.

And then he woke up.