In the twenty-four hours that followed, Harry thought a lot about his strange fifteen minutes under the gloom of the Forbidden Forest. He and Hermione discussed it endlessly when they were alone, going over every nuance and possibility, coming up with wild theories and speculating on what it all could mean. And they quickly decided this was something they had to keep to themselves.

"We mustn't tell anyone of what we've seen," Hermione advised. "Especially Neville. If he thinks that there's a pack of unnatural wolves lurking in the forest he might go after them, hoping to kill Bella along with the rest."

"And that will only get him killed," Harry nodded in agreement. "And we'll be in so much trouble if we tell people we tried to follow what we thought was Bella Lestrange into the Forbidden Forest. But, Hermione ... unnatural wolves? ... there's only one other type of creature that I can think of that matches that description."

"I know, me too," Hermione hushed under her breath as a few students walked past them. "And I'd lose sleep thinking that there was anything like that hidden in the forest."

Which led them on to thinking about what else might be lurking amidst the deepest recesses of trees and bushes nearby. Harry wondered if the old Ford Anglia that Ron Weasley crashed on the way to school last year might still be there, running wild along with the centaurs and giant spiders that roamed the dark depths.

But there were some aspects of their adventure that Harry simply couldn't dissect with Hermione ... particularly all those private physical changes that her touch on Marici had caused in him. He was at a loss to explain it, and nattered relentlessly with his dæmon about this as soon as he'd retired to bed and away from Hermione's maddeningly-knowing looks.

"How did it happen?" Harry whispered as he slid the curtains of his bed closed.

"Do you want a physical description?" Marici quirked.

"No, you weirdo!" Harry chortled lowly. "I know what happened, but what caused it?"

"Well, usually, that sort of change happens in a male animal when he is attracted to a female and wants to mate with her," Marici explained matter-of-factly.

Harry spat out a scandalised breath. "I do not want to mate with Hermione, Chi! What a vulgar thing to say!"

"Do you not?"

"No, of course I don't," Harry whispered back, though he didn't quite meet Marici's eye when he said that. "I mean, she's my best friend."

"Yes, but she is also a girl ... and one that you find very attractive at that," Marici reminded him.

"Since when do I find her attractive?" Harry asked defensively, glad that the darkness of his hangings were hiding his deep blush.

"Since this Summer at least, if not before," Marici pointed out. "That day you spent staring at Hermione's bare legs gave away just how differently you've started to view her. I thought you'd have recognised that yourself."

"Well ... I ... I ..."

Harry felt his eyes pop in his embarrassment. He and his dæmon had never discussed that day, almost as if the topic were taboo. But here was Marici, blurting it out as simply as if they were discussing flavours of ice cream.

"Why are you embarrassed?" the lioness went on. "It's perfectly natural, you know."

"Natural? To ogle your best friend?" Harry hissed. "I hardly think so."

"You cant help it if you're attracted to Hermione in that way," Marici went on. "You've always known that she's pretty, and this is just an extension of that as you've started to develop. You should be pleased that all these firsts for you are caused by Hermione."

"Yeah, maybe, but I'm not sure I want to develop like that,"Harry whined. "It's downright humiliating."

"It happens to all boys eventually. I'm sure you'll get used to it."

"But I'm around Hermione all the time," Harry grumbled. "I don't want to think of that happening all the time. I'll just have to make sure she doesn't touch you, it's too sensitive for me. I think that would be best."

"And if I want Hermione to touch me?" Marici queried.

"Tough. She cant," Harry stated stubbornly. "But, Chi ... do you think she knows about that, about what happened to me? Sometimes I catch her looking at me when she thinks I cant see, and there's just that something in her eye that tell me she knows. And I really don't know what to think about that."

"Something similar must happen to her," Marici pondered. "So she must have some idea."

"How do you know that?"

"Because ... Pap tells me all the time how attracted Hermione is to you ... so it's only natural that she'd responded to such personal contact when you touch Pap."

Harry sat bolt upright, his heart beating so fast and loud it was like a noisy rushing in his ears.

"What do you mean ... Hermione is attracted to me?" Harry demanded.

"Which part are you having trouble with there?" Marici quipped.

"Bloody all of it! How can that be true?"

"It just is. But Hermione is at least a year more developed than you are in such ways. She's used to all these grown-up sensations by now I'd imagine. Not that she likely understands them anymore than you do. She's probably just as confused as you are now."

Harry flopped back down onto his bed to consider that, to marvel at the implications of such a statement should they be true. Which they probably weren't. Harry was a dreamer and an embellisher so it followed that his dæmon would be too, so she was likely wrong about all this. Still, it stoked Harry's vanity to think about it for a moment, and it was a pleasant train of thought that helped him fall into a deep, comfortable sleep.

The next day was Saturday and for Harry it went from one pleasant train ride to another. Neville had managed to go the whole day without concocting a way to get himself murdered and that put Harry in a very chipper mood over breakfast. Hermione loved watching him in this state, eating merrily away and getting all excited, before eagerly discussing what was going to happen over the Christmas holidays as they lined up to board the Hogwarts Express a short while later.

This was the time that Hermione thought would be the most hilarious to jog Harry's memory.

"Of course, these plans for the holiday weekends are all very well, and I'm happy to start with the Quidditch museum next week," she began solemnly. "But what about Monday to Friday? We'll have to think of something to do with those."

Harry turned to her with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean? I'm confused."

"I'd go with forgetful," Hermione smirked. "But I think we could fill the time with homework if you've got nothing but museum trips planned."

"Hermione ... what are you talking about?"

Then she grinned at him. "I'm going to be staying with you, remember? Your parents have been looking after Lyra ... and now they are going to be looking after me, too."

Harry blinked, then gulped hard, then blinked a good deal more.

"You're going to be staying with me," Harry echoed. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that."

"That isn't a problem, is it?"

"What? Oh, no ... not at all. But where will you be staying? We haven't got that many rooms."

"We could always top and tail," Hermione teased with a laugh. "But I warn you, my feet stink when I've been walking all day. And I apologise in advance if I kick you in the face!"

Harry grimaced as if he'd swallowed a hedgehog sideways. His lost, rabbit-in-the-headlights look caused Hermione to explode with laughter.

"Harry, I'm kidding!" she cried, clutching at her ribs in her mirth. "Do you think Lyra would allow that? Or your parents? I think they'd spontaneously combust if we even suggested it!"

"Oh right, of course!" Harry breathed in obvious relief. His awkwardness was adorable and Hermione was instantly addicted to this new way of making him squirm. She couldn't wait to plot devilish ways to tease him when she and Pap were alone and scheming later.

This promised to be one of the funniest Christmases ever!

But most of the merriment ended up being confined to the train journey back to London. Harry took his habitual spot by the window and Hermione, rather than sitting opposite him as normal, decided on a seat next to him on the bench instead. This brought the inevitable bumping of thighs and knees and shoulders as the train rattled along, and Harry seemed to be suffering from random bouts of Petrificus Totalus with each of these 'accidental' collisions. Hermione found the whole thing giggle-inducingly hilarious.

For now, of course, since she'd touched his dæmon, everything had changed between them where physical contact was concerned. The next stage was for Harry to encourage that contact, to desire it rather than flee from it, but that wasn't something that could be fabricated or rushed. Harry would have to reach that point on his own.

But in any case, such monumental leaps were driven far from Hermione's mind as she and Harry left the Express at Kings Cross. They were greeted by James and Lily and Lyra, who guided them quickly from the platform. Hermione noticed with a prickly thrill that Harry's parents were both tightly gripping their wands inside their jacket pockets, while Lyra rhythmically drummed her fingers against the barrel of a handgun concealed in her belt.

But Hermione knew she was safe, and that Harry was safe, with their protectors so fiercely enclosing them. And she was happy with that, but not nearly as happy as she felt when they crossed the threshold to the flat on the Thames ... and were greeted by an unexpected welcoming party.

"Sirius! Malcolm!" Hermione shrieked in elated shock as she entered the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Princess!" Sirius barked as Hermione flung her arms around him in a tight hug. Then Sirius spotted Harry looking equally as stunned at the sight of him. "Your turn, kiddo. Get over here and give your Godfather a big squeeze!"

Sirius transferred Hermione to Mal's arms, just as Harry clobbered him with a hug that was Hermione-esque in its force. Then he broke away, grinning.

"Answer the question then!" Harry laughed. "I heard you'd turned noble, but I know that has to be a scandalous mistake!"

Sirius boomed out a laugh in reply. "I had a moment, you could say! But it passed pretty quickly. Thankfully, Mal and Will, there, made sure I got back in one piece."

Hermione pulled free from Mal and turned to look at Will Parry, who was in the open plan kitchen and waiting for the kettle to boil. He looked up awkwardly, like he didn't feel as if he belonged there, and concentrated on making them all tea and coffee.

But Sirius was having none of his sheepishness as he finally answered Hermione's query.

"Will and his Subtle Knife saved us from the clutches of the Magisterium," Sirius went on stoutly. "It's a swashbuckling tale, one I'd love to tell you all about ... if it had a happy ending, at least."

Hermione's grin turned to a frown. "Does that mean it doesn't have a happy ending?"

"'Fraid not, chick," Sirius sighed. "We were unsuccessful in our aims in your world. We barely escaped with our lives. If we hadn't had Will to cut us a window to safety, we'd have been done for."

"What happened?" Harry asked in concern. "What went wrong?"

"We were too late, nothing more," Malcolm took over as they all sat in the living room. His cat dæmon, Asta, touched noses affectionately with Papageno, before Pantalaimon flew down in his owl form to preen Pap behind the ears.

Harry, feeling the agitation of Marici in his pocket, let his own dæmon free and allowed his mother to cast the re-sizing spell, knowing that he wasn't allowed to use magic outside of school. The spell tickled Harry as it flowed over Marici, but it was warming and comforting and Harry knew that he'd be happy for his mother to do that again when she had to.

But whether or not he'd allow his mother to physically touch Marici was another conundrum entirely.

"You were late?" Hermione asked, sitting next to Harry as Marici stretched out languidly on the floor at their feet. She was very careful not to let her besocked little feet so much as brush against the fur of the majestic lioness. That wouldn't do at all. "What do you mean by that?"

"He means that the Magisterium's plans were further along than any of us could have guessed," Sirius took over, accepting a coffee from Will. "We found the heart of one of their experiments, in a network of caves in Ellora, India. An entity who called himself Cavalier Louis showed us to a huge chamber where the Magisterium had constructed a giant Intercisor Machine."

"Intercisor?" Harry queried.

"A dæmon slicer," Hermione guessed, turning to Harry with a shudder. "When the Magisterium used to cut away kid's dæmons, they called the process intercision. I imagine that's where this machine got it's name?"

"Exactly," Malcolm nodded with a warm smile. "Only this infernal device is the size of a crane. It creates more power, and a more violent expulsion of energy, one that is easier to monitor and study."

"And what are they studying?" Hermione pressed. "If they know how to cut away dæmons, what else do they need to know?"

"You're forgetting the results of my father's experiments," Lyra reminded her pupil, gently. "He found a way to open a portal to another world, when he murdered my friend, Roger. Mal tells me the Magisterium has combined these two branches of research to make something altogether more refined ... if you can call this disgusting act something like that."

"So ... what does this Intercisor do?" Harry asked, digging his toes into Marici's haunch as she whined below him.

"It allows the Magisterium to control the openings to other worlds," Malcolm explained. "The frequencies of the energies released are unique, so they can be recorded and exposed to a Scientific Method ... namely that they attempt to repeat the process and find the same world more than once."

"And they have to kill people to do that?" Harry gasped in horror. "Good god!"

"So what do they hope to find?" Hermione asked. She inched close to Harry on reflex, but far from wanting to tease him she sought only comfort and solace in his touch. She needed that in an ever more terrifying world.

"Their plan is to locate a world where life begins, one essentially opposite to the World of the Dead, the one that Lyra and I visited when we were children," Will replied from his place looking out along the Thames. "It is a place they have dubbed The Source. And, given enough time, they'll find it."

Harry swallowed hard at the grim certainty in Will's voice. "So ... could you ... could you find it first? With your funny knife, I mean?"

Will smiled almost pityingly at Harry's innocence. "I've tried. But, like Lyra with her alethiometer, my ability to use the Knife as I once did diminished as I got older. I can use the knife now, but only to go to worlds I've previously cut into. I've forgotten how to make cuts into new ones."

"But could you re-learn?" Hermione squeaked. "Lyra did, after all."

"No, I don't think so," Will replied, shaking his head. "In truth, I've forgotten how I learned in the first place."

"So that's it then? They've won?" Harry groaned. "We're done for and there's nothing we can do!"

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Sirius chuckled. "Throw in the towel before the fight has even started."

Harry sat up straight, stirred to hope by Sirius' words. "We can still fight? How?"

"Of course we can still fight, the battlefield has moved, that's all," James cut in. "Now it's in our world, and we have no intention of standing aside and allowing Tom Riddle to take over."

"We want to fight!" Harry cried, looking to Hermione who nodded in vehement support. "How can we fight?"

"By staying alive through what's to come," Sirius replied, hushing Lily when she went to complain. "There's no point hiding it from them, Loopy Lil. They are at the heart of this, so they deserve to be prepared."

"Prepared?" Hermione queried. "Prepared for what?"

Malcolm sighed as he took to the floor. "We discovered a little of the Magisterium's plan. Cavalier Louis told it to us."

"What is what?" Harry pushed.

"The authorities here intend to create a sort of cataclysm," Sirius replied. "They are going to allow the Magisterium to break open a barrier to a water world, and then Riddle can move the water here in the form of terrible storms. The deluge will cause a devastating flood to Western and Northern Europe ... one of Biblical proportions. They intend to use the ensuing chaos as Phase One of their Grand Plan.

"Those that survive will be herded into designated Relief Locations, and the virus that the authorities have manufactured will be released to the masses. Then they will be able to control who they offer a vaccine or cure to ... and hidden within that will be Tom Riddle, enacting his scheme to control the future development of magical children."

"Oh my!" Hermione gasped. "How are we supposed to stop that?"

"By stopping Riddle ever reaching The Source," said Malcolm. "He'll need a particular sort of sacrifice from this world, one that uses magic itself to find the place where it originates in this universe."

"And, knowing Riddle's arrogance and stupidity, he'll probably want to use either of you."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in stunned fear, as Sirius' words hung like a cloud above them.

"That ... that does sound like the sort of thing he's prone to," Hermione mumbled. "We'll have to be extra vigilant, Harry."

"What you need is to be prepared," Malcolm cut across. "Part of this plan is already too advanced to stop, so you must be ready for the inevitable."

"Which is what?" Harry asked.

"The flood will happen, it's coming," said Malcolm. "We don't know when, but it will be signalled by unseasonal rain. The Government has neglected upkeep of river defences, so flooding will occur quickly. Then you must be ready to move if necessary."

"Move? How?"

"By using something Sirius and I are building for you, Harry."

"What is it?" Harry queried.

"Something that harks back to my youth," Malcolm smiled fondly. "I saved Lyra's life in one long ago and, when you're ready, I'll teach you everything you need to know. It's a sturdy canoe, and I've already thought of a name for her ... it's one that brought me luck when I needed it ...

"We're going to call her La Belle Sauvage Deux ... and let us hope she treats you as faithfully as her forerunner treated me."