Harry Potter and the Wizard's Granddaughter
Chapter Six: Nemesis
Author's Notes: Harry and Co. aren't mine. Olivia is. Don't touch.
This chapter is rated PG for very mild swearing.
By dee by, please, please, PLEASE review! I really, really need feedback. If you don't review, I might not have incentive enough to buckle down and finish the next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!!!
ALSO: EVERYTHING WILL BE EXPLAINED in the NEXT CHAPTER!!! Woo hoo! I can finally write down the scene that's been playing in my mind ever since I first got this idea! Please keep reading; everything will be explained!
That night, in the darkness, the dream came again.
Something was terribly wrong. In the dream, Harry knew that somehow he had done something wrong. He had trusted the wrong person, or he had done something stupid, SOMETHING was wrong. The sick, twisted feeling of his stomach felt real, even though he somehow knew that he was dreaming.
There was flickering torchlight around him. He was in a large room, but he was trapped somehow. And then, the shout came.
"Avada Kedavra!"
There wasn't time to think, and yet there was. Time slowed down, as the green burst of light shot straight at his chest, the oncoming rush of death lighting up the room in an emerald flash…
And then, just like in all the other dreams, it was deflected. One moment it was going to hit him, and the next moment, it was streaming in a different direction.
The green light exploded.
And Harry sat up with a jerk.
His face was dripping sweat, and he was breathing hard. His clammy fingers groped for his glasses, and he trembled as he slipped them over his ears.
He was in the boys' dorm. He gave a silent sigh of relief, then checked to make sure he hadn't woken anyone up. No, Neville was still snoring loudly, Ron was clutching his blanket, fast asleep, and the rest of the room was quiet.
Harry stood up, deciding that he was too freaked out to go back to sleep anytime soon. He pulled on a loose robe, and quietly crept down the stairs to the common room.
Olivia was sitting on one of the chairs, staring into the fire. He walked up to her.
"You're awake too?" He asked.
She glanced up at him. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep."
"Nightmares?"
She nodded. "You?"
He nodded too, sitting in a chair beside her. He studied the girl for a moment, contemplating.
Olivia was as small as a second year, but she somehow didn't look that young. She wasn't wearing her glasses, which made her blue eyes seem even more familiar to Harry.
"Why did you and Ron become friends?" She suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"Huh?" He looked at her, but she was still staring at the fire.
"How did you guys meet?"
Harry explained how they had met in the train station on their way to their first year at Hogwarts.
"And we've been best friends ever since," Harry concluded.
Olivia smiled, a rueful smile. "You're really lucky, to have friends like Ron and Hermione. I think they'd give their lives for you."
He blinked. "Well, I'd give my life to save them, too. We're really close, you know." He watched her for a moment. "Don't you have a friend like that? From your old school, or somewhere else? Everyone has a best friend, after all. Somebody that they'd die for, that they enjoy spending time with, that they know better than anyone else. Don't you have someone like that?"
Olivia didn't seem to hear the question at first. Then, she turned her head toward him. "No," she mouthed silently.
The two of them watched as, slowly and gently, the sun came up, and the fire died away.
The halls were nearly empty after breakfast, because most of the students at Hogwarts had returned home for their Christmas vacation. Harry was still there, because his "family" at home refused to let him come back during the holiday. Ron stayed because it was easier on his mother for him to stay. Usually Hermione went home, but this year she had chosen to stay behind too.
"Olivia asked me to," was her only explanation.
She and Olivia had apparently become the best of friends. At every spare moment, they were talking and whispering to each other.
As the four were walking to Potions class, they saw Minister Fudge standing in the hall next to a stone statue of Weldric Drassle. The statue was missing its head and the left half of its body: Harry was never sure if this was because the statue was broken, or because of Drassle's reputation as the first person to ever attempt to tame a dragon to eat from his hand. Fudge was chatting with a very tall slender man who was holding a suitcase in one hand. On his other shoulder he carried a tote bag filled with large scrolls.
"Yes, it will be very interesting to my publisher to have an interview from you included," the man was saying to Fudge, who beamed proudly, as Harry walked past. Olivia stepped up to the two of them.
"Who are you?" Olivia asked the man, ignoring Fudge's dark glare. The man turned to her. He had a long mustache that trailed past his chin and curled into loops at the ends. His head was almost bald; he had two tufts of white hair just above his ears.
"Oh, hello little girl," the man said kindly. "I'm writing a book on Hogwarts. Sort of a sequel to 'Hogwarts: A History' you see."
"Yes, yes, now run along to your classes now," Fudge said quickly, trying to shoo them away.
Olivia reluctantly let herself be shoved out of the way by the minister's forceful proddings, but she stared over her shoulder at the two as they walked down the hall.
"Writing a book on Hogwarts?" Hermione's eyes were gleaming. "That will be fantastic! I've always wanted to hear an objective modern view on this place!"
Harry was disgusted. "Geez, Hermione, you're a student here! What else do you think you need to know about this place?"
But Ron was excited too. "Maybe he'll want to include interviews with the students!" Ron's eyes were clouded with visions of fame and fortune.
"He won't want to interview you." Olivia said coldly. "He might want to interview Harry, because he's so famous, and he might want to interview m- McGonagall, because she's been here a while, but he won't interview any of the other students."
That annoyed Ron. "Well, maybe he will! Since when are you so smart, anyway?" He started walking backwards so that he could face Olivia as they walked.
She shook her head. "Common sense, Ron. Get some."
Harry watched her, wondering at the uncharacteristically cynical response.
Hermione noticed too. "Olivia?"
Ron sighed in disgust. "Come on, let's just hurry up. If we're late for Potions, then Snape'll kill us for sure." He turned back around and started walking faster.
Olivia turned to Hermione, eyes wide. "It's falling apart," she said in an undertone. Harry tried to act as if he wasn't listening, but the tone of her voice was so serious that he had to pay attention. "It will be tonight, if ever. Be on guard."
Hermione nodded wisely, then glanced at Harry. He trotted a little faster to catch up with Ron.
Ron glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "I don't trust her."
"Who, Hermione?" Harry asked, but he knew what Ron meant.
"No, Olivia. I think something is seriously wrong with her."
Harry shook his head. "I think she's just lonely, and the stuff that's been happening around Hogwarts lately is scaring her."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say."
Harry was about to demand of his best friend just what that comment had meant, but they arrived at the stairs to the dungeons, and Ron took them two at a time. By the time he caught up with Ron again, they had reached the classroom.
Professor Bakana bowed to them as they walked inside, his narrow eyes gleaming as he smiled. Snape was wearing his usual glower, as he pouted behind his desk.
This was NOT going to be a good class.
As they climbed the ladder to the attic classroom of Divination, Harry could hear Professor Trewlaney chatting with someone. The trapdoor swung open above them, and as the Gryffindor students climbed into the room, they saw that Professor Trait had been talking with the eccentric professor.
"Well, I'll see you after class then, Sybil?"
"Yes, Brumhilde, of course." Trewlaney waved as the other professor climbed down the ladder. She gave the class a triumphant smile. "Professor Trait was coming to me for a fire reading."
Harry sank down into a pouf near the front of the class, and faced the fire in front of him with more than a little frustration. The warm room was a nice change from the cold and slimy dungeon Potions classroom, but he still wished that he could be somewhere, anywhere else.
Ron sat in a pouf next to him, and Olivia sat down somewhere behind him.
"Now, today class, we will-" Trewlaney stopped. She stared into the fire in front of her, where her desk used to be, and pushed her glasses further up on her nose. "Dear oh dear, the flames are predicting something terrible! Everyone please quiet down, so that I can meditate on this," she said in her eeriest, foggiest voice, as she sank into a lotus position on the floor.
Harry closed his eyes, deciding that it would be safe to doze while Trewlaney was "meditating." Suddenly, she spoke.
"Dear oh dear." She stood slowly, her many beaded necklaces rattling. "The flames seem to show an enemy being revealed. The fire has informed me that someone once thought a friend will prove to be a terrible foe, and will be revealed very, very soon!" She stared down her nose at Harry, who shrugged and looked away. Looking very miffed, Trewlaney turned around to collect a basket of incense off her shelf.
"Now-" she was saying, when suddenly Harry felt two hands grab his shoulders, hard.
With a mighty tug, someone pulled Harry backwards out of his pouf, and he hit the floor with a bump. He tried to scramble to his feet, but whoever had hold of his shoulders was yanking him backwards. He saw Ron spring up, wand out, and leap over the beanbags, and a moment later the deathgrip on his shoulders was lifted.
He was sitting on the floor, and he leaned back to see who had grabbed him.
It was Olivia.
"What the hell was that for?" Ron demanded angrily, wand pointing straight at Olivia's chest.
"My dear child-" Trewlaney started to say, when-
WHUMPF. With a flare of heat and a huge noise, the pouf Harry had been sitting in exploded. Everyone turned away from Harry to watch as the beanbag flamed for a moment. Seconds later, with a hiss, the floor was covered in ash, and the chair was completely gone.
Olivia was watching it with a resolute look. Nobody moved for a moment: the room was quiet. Smoke that had risen from the momentary explosion drifted to the ceiling, bringing an awful smell with it.
"Good God!" Trewlaney choked out before fainting against the back wall with a crash.
Olivia jerked out of the way of Ron's wand, gave him a dirty look, then stomped down the ladder, slamming the trapdoor closed with a bang that made everyone jump.
All eyes turned to look at Harry, as he stared at the pile of ashes which could have very well included him, had Olivia been a moment later. His brain seemed frozen- he couldn't think of any reason that this had happened. The question echoed in his brain without a response: Why?
Surprisingly enough, none of the teachers had any questions for him about this incident. McGonagall patted him on the shoulder as she walked past, and Trewlaney gave him an evil glare as if it had been his fault, but other than that nothing out of the ordinary happened.
He didn't see Olivia again until just before dinner.
He was walking past the Transfiguration classroom in search of Ron or Hermione when he heard someone speaking very harshly and loudly. He swung open the door to see Ron and Olivia glaring daggers at each other. Ron's back was to the door.
"All I want to know is how did you know that the chair was going to blow up!" Ron shouted.
"I've already told you!" Olivia shouted back. She sounded as if she was about to cry. "I can see a few seconds into the future! You should be thanking me, not yelling at me!"
"That's a bunch of crap," Ron spat.
"Oh, hi Harry," Olivia said, smiling at him over Ron's shoulder as if nothing was wrong.
"Yeah, right! You're just trying to make me think that he's behind me, so that I'll turn around! Are you going to try and curse me or something?" Ron asked scornfully.
Harry cleared his throat, and Ron whirled around. He turned bright red. "Oh, hullo Harry."
Olivia turned back to Ron. "I don't know what you want me to say. I've tried to explain to you, but you won't listen." She turned back to Harry. "I'm going up to the library. See you later." She waltzed out.
"What is going on here?" Harry asked sternly.
Ron scowled at Harry. "I'm trying to find out what the hell is wrong with her.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked indignantly. "She saved my life, after all."
Hermione walked in the door. "You wanted to meet me, Ron?" She smiled. "Oh, Harry, you're here too. What's this all about?"
Ron scowled even harder at her cheerfulness. "Listen, I wanted to ask you and Harry a few questions."
"Like what?" Both Hermione and Harry spoke at the same time.
"Like why you guys trust Olivia so much, when it's so obvious that she's the saboteur."
Hermione scoffed. "Olivia isn't the saboteur. I thought you said she saved Harry's life. And didn't she save us from the suits of armor?"
Harry looked back to Ron, sure that he would have an argument for this. He did.
"She was just doing that to keep up appearances and to save her own skin!" He threw up his arms. "Geez, Hermione, I think she must have bewitched you or something! Why can't you see?"
Harry turned to Ron, and started to say something, but changed his mind. After a moment, he decided that it had better be said. "Ron, I think you just want to suspect Olivia."
Ron blinked. "Just what do you mean by that?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I guess you're just jealous of her or something, but you're really going out on a limb."
It was Ron's turn to scoff. "I think you're just saying that because you fancy her."
Harry could feel a blush creeping up to his ears. "I do not!"
"Do too!" Ron insisted. "You spend ALL your time with her! It used to be just the three of us, but then you insisted on including her! Even if she isn't dangerous, she's annoying, Harry!"
"She isn't the one causing all the problems!" Hermione tried to say, but Ron interrupted.
"Look, Harry, it comes down to this." He took a deep breath. "I don't trust her. I don't like her, and I don't trust her, and I don't want her around anymore."
Harry scowled. "So what do you want me to do? Ignore her?"
"Yes!" Ron burst out. "Look, I'm just sick of this. I thought we were friends, Harry. And yet you're putting yourself in danger just for HER, just because you have a stupid crush on her! I thought five years of friendship would mean more than a stupid crush!"
"I don't have a crush on her, OK?" Harry was so angry he could barely think. What was worse, he wasn't sure who he was angry at. "Look, I'll stop hanging around with her so much if it makes you happy! I trust her, but I don't like her more than you guys! I just hung around with her because I feel sorry for her, OK? I don't have a crush on her, I don't even like her! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
THUMP!
The three whirled around at the noise. Olivia was standing in the doorway, her books scattered at her feet, her eyes wide in shock.
"I-I-I forgot my bag…" she trailed off, still staring wide-eyed at Harry. She darted forward, grabbed her bag from where it had been sitting on one of the desks, and took off running out the door.
Harry felt sick. So, apparently, did Ron; at least, that's what the look on his face was. Sick, and shocked.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said slowly, stretching his name out long. "If you knew-"
He looked at Hermione, but she had turned away. "I'm going to go try and find her."
Harry was speechless for a moment. "Herm, you know that I didn't mean that, not that way."
"Yeah, I know. But she doesn't." Hermione gave him a pitying look, then walked out the door.
Ron and Harry exchanged glances.
"Harry, I'm sorry," apologized Ron.
"Shut it." Harry snapped. "Look, you've always been my best friend. Always. But I want to be friends with Olivia too. She doesn't have anyone else."
They stepped out into the corridor, silently heading for the Great Hall.
When they reached the doors, however, there was a huge crowd of students blocking the way.
"What's going on?" Harry asked one of the prefects, a girl from Hufflepuff his own age.
"The Great Hall's filled with snakes!" She said dramatically, waving a hand at the doors. "Nobody can go in there, not even the teachers! The snakes are waist-high, and all of them deadly poisonous!"
"What?" Harry managed to shove his way up to the key-hole, and peeked through.
The floor was moving, It took him a minute to realize that the snakes were moving, the floor wasn't. The sky above the hall was brown again, and a soft hissing noise was resonating through the halls.
"Potter," a voice called. Harry turned, to see Hermione and Ron standing next to Professor Trait, just beyond the crowd of students near the doors. He squirmed between the masses of bodies over to them.
"What's going on, Professor?" he asked her.
Her face was set in a look of resolve. "Come with me. We're going to figure all this out."
She took off down the hall. Ron shrugged, and followed her.
"Why do we have to come?" Hermione asked, struggling to keep up.
"Because you and Harry are friends, and I can assure you that someone here has been trying to kill Harry. It will help me greatly if the three of you come along."
"What about Olivia?" Harry asked.
"Unimportant." Trait waved a hand as they arrived at her classroom. She swept open the door, herded them in, and locked it behind her. Then, she strode purposefully to her desk, and pulled out a torch. She lit it with a plastic light she produced from a pocket in her robe, and held it out to Harry and his friends.
"This is a portkey. Touch it, so that we can get out of here." Trait said.
"Where will it take us?" Ron asked.
"To a carefully laid trap designed to catch the one who's been causing problems all year."
The three teens exchanged glances: this is what they had been waiting for! They all reached out and hesitantly put a finger on the torch.
There was a by-now-familiar jerk somewhere below Harry's navel, and the world swirled around him.
And then they were in a small room. There were stone walls all around them, and a wooden door in front of them. Trait pulled the torch away from their grasp, and slid it into a holder attached to the wall. Other than the torch, which lit up the room with a eerie flickering light, the room was completely empty.
"Here." Trait traced a circle on the floor with her wand. "Step in here, you'll be safer in here." She muttered a spell, and the circle glowed with golden light.
Harry stepped gingerly into the circle, feeling a blast of cold air as he stepped over the line she had made. "Professor, who do you think has been causing these problems?"
"I don't know," Trait said with a wry grin, but we'll soon find out. I've got several spells set up so that whoever it is will think the three of you are here all alone. It's too good for them to turn down, so they will come bursting through that door in a minute." She gestured to the door with her wand, as Ron and Hermione also stepped into the circle.
After about half a minute, Trait frowned. "Something's not right." She gazed all around the room, though what she could see beyond stone walls and a thatched roof was beyond Harry. Then, her gaze rested on him. "You have your wands."
Harry and Hermione nodded, but Ron looked stricken. "I forgot, I left mine in that classroom!"
"Good," Trait said. "Harry, you hand me yours. We want whoever it is to think you're helpless."
Harry stared at her. "Actually, if I gave you my wand, then I would be helpless, wouldn't I?"
Trait thought about that for a moment. "I suppose you're right. You always were good at this kind of thing, hmm." It wasn't a question. She turned back to the door. "They should be here any moment now. Any minute now I'll find out who's been wrecking my plans all year long." Trait didn't seem to be talking to either of the three of them, so they kept quiet.
A moment later, there was a warped sound outside, like a plastic zipper being very rapidly unzipped. And then, a voice called, "Alohomora!"
The wooden door swung open very, very slowly. Outside, Harry could see enough to know that they were in the Forbidden Forest.
And standing right outside the door was Olivia. Her wand was out, and her face was grim. Her glasses were gone, and somehow she seemed to be several inches taller.
"What are you doing here?" Trait sounded annoyed. "You-" She cut herself off. "You're the one!" She raised her wand. "How smart. Right under my nose, of course I wouldn't see it. You're the one who has been causing these problems, sabotaging my plans!"
Olivia stared her straight in the eye. And smiled.
Author's Note: AUGH! This is NOT where I wanted to cut this chapter off! Oh well. Next chapter will be a doozy! Please review, or I might not get around to the next chapter for, say, another couple weeks?
By the way, before you blame and flame me for being too obvious, or having too simple a plotline, wait for and read the next chapter. I won't say anymore: hee hee!
Also, for those of you who like Malfoy, your chapter will come! If not next chapter then the one after that.
Amethyst
Chapter Six: Nemesis
Author's Notes: Harry and Co. aren't mine. Olivia is. Don't touch.
This chapter is rated PG for very mild swearing.
By dee by, please, please, PLEASE review! I really, really need feedback. If you don't review, I might not have incentive enough to buckle down and finish the next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW!!!
ALSO: EVERYTHING WILL BE EXPLAINED in the NEXT CHAPTER!!! Woo hoo! I can finally write down the scene that's been playing in my mind ever since I first got this idea! Please keep reading; everything will be explained!
That night, in the darkness, the dream came again.
Something was terribly wrong. In the dream, Harry knew that somehow he had done something wrong. He had trusted the wrong person, or he had done something stupid, SOMETHING was wrong. The sick, twisted feeling of his stomach felt real, even though he somehow knew that he was dreaming.
There was flickering torchlight around him. He was in a large room, but he was trapped somehow. And then, the shout came.
"Avada Kedavra!"
There wasn't time to think, and yet there was. Time slowed down, as the green burst of light shot straight at his chest, the oncoming rush of death lighting up the room in an emerald flash…
And then, just like in all the other dreams, it was deflected. One moment it was going to hit him, and the next moment, it was streaming in a different direction.
The green light exploded.
And Harry sat up with a jerk.
His face was dripping sweat, and he was breathing hard. His clammy fingers groped for his glasses, and he trembled as he slipped them over his ears.
He was in the boys' dorm. He gave a silent sigh of relief, then checked to make sure he hadn't woken anyone up. No, Neville was still snoring loudly, Ron was clutching his blanket, fast asleep, and the rest of the room was quiet.
Harry stood up, deciding that he was too freaked out to go back to sleep anytime soon. He pulled on a loose robe, and quietly crept down the stairs to the common room.
Olivia was sitting on one of the chairs, staring into the fire. He walked up to her.
"You're awake too?" He asked.
She glanced up at him. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep."
"Nightmares?"
She nodded. "You?"
He nodded too, sitting in a chair beside her. He studied the girl for a moment, contemplating.
Olivia was as small as a second year, but she somehow didn't look that young. She wasn't wearing her glasses, which made her blue eyes seem even more familiar to Harry.
"Why did you and Ron become friends?" She suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"Huh?" He looked at her, but she was still staring at the fire.
"How did you guys meet?"
Harry explained how they had met in the train station on their way to their first year at Hogwarts.
"And we've been best friends ever since," Harry concluded.
Olivia smiled, a rueful smile. "You're really lucky, to have friends like Ron and Hermione. I think they'd give their lives for you."
He blinked. "Well, I'd give my life to save them, too. We're really close, you know." He watched her for a moment. "Don't you have a friend like that? From your old school, or somewhere else? Everyone has a best friend, after all. Somebody that they'd die for, that they enjoy spending time with, that they know better than anyone else. Don't you have someone like that?"
Olivia didn't seem to hear the question at first. Then, she turned her head toward him. "No," she mouthed silently.
The two of them watched as, slowly and gently, the sun came up, and the fire died away.
The halls were nearly empty after breakfast, because most of the students at Hogwarts had returned home for their Christmas vacation. Harry was still there, because his "family" at home refused to let him come back during the holiday. Ron stayed because it was easier on his mother for him to stay. Usually Hermione went home, but this year she had chosen to stay behind too.
"Olivia asked me to," was her only explanation.
She and Olivia had apparently become the best of friends. At every spare moment, they were talking and whispering to each other.
As the four were walking to Potions class, they saw Minister Fudge standing in the hall next to a stone statue of Weldric Drassle. The statue was missing its head and the left half of its body: Harry was never sure if this was because the statue was broken, or because of Drassle's reputation as the first person to ever attempt to tame a dragon to eat from his hand. Fudge was chatting with a very tall slender man who was holding a suitcase in one hand. On his other shoulder he carried a tote bag filled with large scrolls.
"Yes, it will be very interesting to my publisher to have an interview from you included," the man was saying to Fudge, who beamed proudly, as Harry walked past. Olivia stepped up to the two of them.
"Who are you?" Olivia asked the man, ignoring Fudge's dark glare. The man turned to her. He had a long mustache that trailed past his chin and curled into loops at the ends. His head was almost bald; he had two tufts of white hair just above his ears.
"Oh, hello little girl," the man said kindly. "I'm writing a book on Hogwarts. Sort of a sequel to 'Hogwarts: A History' you see."
"Yes, yes, now run along to your classes now," Fudge said quickly, trying to shoo them away.
Olivia reluctantly let herself be shoved out of the way by the minister's forceful proddings, but she stared over her shoulder at the two as they walked down the hall.
"Writing a book on Hogwarts?" Hermione's eyes were gleaming. "That will be fantastic! I've always wanted to hear an objective modern view on this place!"
Harry was disgusted. "Geez, Hermione, you're a student here! What else do you think you need to know about this place?"
But Ron was excited too. "Maybe he'll want to include interviews with the students!" Ron's eyes were clouded with visions of fame and fortune.
"He won't want to interview you." Olivia said coldly. "He might want to interview Harry, because he's so famous, and he might want to interview m- McGonagall, because she's been here a while, but he won't interview any of the other students."
That annoyed Ron. "Well, maybe he will! Since when are you so smart, anyway?" He started walking backwards so that he could face Olivia as they walked.
She shook her head. "Common sense, Ron. Get some."
Harry watched her, wondering at the uncharacteristically cynical response.
Hermione noticed too. "Olivia?"
Ron sighed in disgust. "Come on, let's just hurry up. If we're late for Potions, then Snape'll kill us for sure." He turned back around and started walking faster.
Olivia turned to Hermione, eyes wide. "It's falling apart," she said in an undertone. Harry tried to act as if he wasn't listening, but the tone of her voice was so serious that he had to pay attention. "It will be tonight, if ever. Be on guard."
Hermione nodded wisely, then glanced at Harry. He trotted a little faster to catch up with Ron.
Ron glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "I don't trust her."
"Who, Hermione?" Harry asked, but he knew what Ron meant.
"No, Olivia. I think something is seriously wrong with her."
Harry shook his head. "I think she's just lonely, and the stuff that's been happening around Hogwarts lately is scaring her."
Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say."
Harry was about to demand of his best friend just what that comment had meant, but they arrived at the stairs to the dungeons, and Ron took them two at a time. By the time he caught up with Ron again, they had reached the classroom.
Professor Bakana bowed to them as they walked inside, his narrow eyes gleaming as he smiled. Snape was wearing his usual glower, as he pouted behind his desk.
This was NOT going to be a good class.
As they climbed the ladder to the attic classroom of Divination, Harry could hear Professor Trewlaney chatting with someone. The trapdoor swung open above them, and as the Gryffindor students climbed into the room, they saw that Professor Trait had been talking with the eccentric professor.
"Well, I'll see you after class then, Sybil?"
"Yes, Brumhilde, of course." Trewlaney waved as the other professor climbed down the ladder. She gave the class a triumphant smile. "Professor Trait was coming to me for a fire reading."
Harry sank down into a pouf near the front of the class, and faced the fire in front of him with more than a little frustration. The warm room was a nice change from the cold and slimy dungeon Potions classroom, but he still wished that he could be somewhere, anywhere else.
Ron sat in a pouf next to him, and Olivia sat down somewhere behind him.
"Now, today class, we will-" Trewlaney stopped. She stared into the fire in front of her, where her desk used to be, and pushed her glasses further up on her nose. "Dear oh dear, the flames are predicting something terrible! Everyone please quiet down, so that I can meditate on this," she said in her eeriest, foggiest voice, as she sank into a lotus position on the floor.
Harry closed his eyes, deciding that it would be safe to doze while Trewlaney was "meditating." Suddenly, she spoke.
"Dear oh dear." She stood slowly, her many beaded necklaces rattling. "The flames seem to show an enemy being revealed. The fire has informed me that someone once thought a friend will prove to be a terrible foe, and will be revealed very, very soon!" She stared down her nose at Harry, who shrugged and looked away. Looking very miffed, Trewlaney turned around to collect a basket of incense off her shelf.
"Now-" she was saying, when suddenly Harry felt two hands grab his shoulders, hard.
With a mighty tug, someone pulled Harry backwards out of his pouf, and he hit the floor with a bump. He tried to scramble to his feet, but whoever had hold of his shoulders was yanking him backwards. He saw Ron spring up, wand out, and leap over the beanbags, and a moment later the deathgrip on his shoulders was lifted.
He was sitting on the floor, and he leaned back to see who had grabbed him.
It was Olivia.
"What the hell was that for?" Ron demanded angrily, wand pointing straight at Olivia's chest.
"My dear child-" Trewlaney started to say, when-
WHUMPF. With a flare of heat and a huge noise, the pouf Harry had been sitting in exploded. Everyone turned away from Harry to watch as the beanbag flamed for a moment. Seconds later, with a hiss, the floor was covered in ash, and the chair was completely gone.
Olivia was watching it with a resolute look. Nobody moved for a moment: the room was quiet. Smoke that had risen from the momentary explosion drifted to the ceiling, bringing an awful smell with it.
"Good God!" Trewlaney choked out before fainting against the back wall with a crash.
Olivia jerked out of the way of Ron's wand, gave him a dirty look, then stomped down the ladder, slamming the trapdoor closed with a bang that made everyone jump.
All eyes turned to look at Harry, as he stared at the pile of ashes which could have very well included him, had Olivia been a moment later. His brain seemed frozen- he couldn't think of any reason that this had happened. The question echoed in his brain without a response: Why?
Surprisingly enough, none of the teachers had any questions for him about this incident. McGonagall patted him on the shoulder as she walked past, and Trewlaney gave him an evil glare as if it had been his fault, but other than that nothing out of the ordinary happened.
He didn't see Olivia again until just before dinner.
He was walking past the Transfiguration classroom in search of Ron or Hermione when he heard someone speaking very harshly and loudly. He swung open the door to see Ron and Olivia glaring daggers at each other. Ron's back was to the door.
"All I want to know is how did you know that the chair was going to blow up!" Ron shouted.
"I've already told you!" Olivia shouted back. She sounded as if she was about to cry. "I can see a few seconds into the future! You should be thanking me, not yelling at me!"
"That's a bunch of crap," Ron spat.
"Oh, hi Harry," Olivia said, smiling at him over Ron's shoulder as if nothing was wrong.
"Yeah, right! You're just trying to make me think that he's behind me, so that I'll turn around! Are you going to try and curse me or something?" Ron asked scornfully.
Harry cleared his throat, and Ron whirled around. He turned bright red. "Oh, hullo Harry."
Olivia turned back to Ron. "I don't know what you want me to say. I've tried to explain to you, but you won't listen." She turned back to Harry. "I'm going up to the library. See you later." She waltzed out.
"What is going on here?" Harry asked sternly.
Ron scowled at Harry. "I'm trying to find out what the hell is wrong with her.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked indignantly. "She saved my life, after all."
Hermione walked in the door. "You wanted to meet me, Ron?" She smiled. "Oh, Harry, you're here too. What's this all about?"
Ron scowled even harder at her cheerfulness. "Listen, I wanted to ask you and Harry a few questions."
"Like what?" Both Hermione and Harry spoke at the same time.
"Like why you guys trust Olivia so much, when it's so obvious that she's the saboteur."
Hermione scoffed. "Olivia isn't the saboteur. I thought you said she saved Harry's life. And didn't she save us from the suits of armor?"
Harry looked back to Ron, sure that he would have an argument for this. He did.
"She was just doing that to keep up appearances and to save her own skin!" He threw up his arms. "Geez, Hermione, I think she must have bewitched you or something! Why can't you see?"
Harry turned to Ron, and started to say something, but changed his mind. After a moment, he decided that it had better be said. "Ron, I think you just want to suspect Olivia."
Ron blinked. "Just what do you mean by that?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I guess you're just jealous of her or something, but you're really going out on a limb."
It was Ron's turn to scoff. "I think you're just saying that because you fancy her."
Harry could feel a blush creeping up to his ears. "I do not!"
"Do too!" Ron insisted. "You spend ALL your time with her! It used to be just the three of us, but then you insisted on including her! Even if she isn't dangerous, she's annoying, Harry!"
"She isn't the one causing all the problems!" Hermione tried to say, but Ron interrupted.
"Look, Harry, it comes down to this." He took a deep breath. "I don't trust her. I don't like her, and I don't trust her, and I don't want her around anymore."
Harry scowled. "So what do you want me to do? Ignore her?"
"Yes!" Ron burst out. "Look, I'm just sick of this. I thought we were friends, Harry. And yet you're putting yourself in danger just for HER, just because you have a stupid crush on her! I thought five years of friendship would mean more than a stupid crush!"
"I don't have a crush on her, OK?" Harry was so angry he could barely think. What was worse, he wasn't sure who he was angry at. "Look, I'll stop hanging around with her so much if it makes you happy! I trust her, but I don't like her more than you guys! I just hung around with her because I feel sorry for her, OK? I don't have a crush on her, I don't even like her! Is that what you wanted to hear?"
THUMP!
The three whirled around at the noise. Olivia was standing in the doorway, her books scattered at her feet, her eyes wide in shock.
"I-I-I forgot my bag…" she trailed off, still staring wide-eyed at Harry. She darted forward, grabbed her bag from where it had been sitting on one of the desks, and took off running out the door.
Harry felt sick. So, apparently, did Ron; at least, that's what the look on his face was. Sick, and shocked.
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said slowly, stretching his name out long. "If you knew-"
He looked at Hermione, but she had turned away. "I'm going to go try and find her."
Harry was speechless for a moment. "Herm, you know that I didn't mean that, not that way."
"Yeah, I know. But she doesn't." Hermione gave him a pitying look, then walked out the door.
Ron and Harry exchanged glances.
"Harry, I'm sorry," apologized Ron.
"Shut it." Harry snapped. "Look, you've always been my best friend. Always. But I want to be friends with Olivia too. She doesn't have anyone else."
They stepped out into the corridor, silently heading for the Great Hall.
When they reached the doors, however, there was a huge crowd of students blocking the way.
"What's going on?" Harry asked one of the prefects, a girl from Hufflepuff his own age.
"The Great Hall's filled with snakes!" She said dramatically, waving a hand at the doors. "Nobody can go in there, not even the teachers! The snakes are waist-high, and all of them deadly poisonous!"
"What?" Harry managed to shove his way up to the key-hole, and peeked through.
The floor was moving, It took him a minute to realize that the snakes were moving, the floor wasn't. The sky above the hall was brown again, and a soft hissing noise was resonating through the halls.
"Potter," a voice called. Harry turned, to see Hermione and Ron standing next to Professor Trait, just beyond the crowd of students near the doors. He squirmed between the masses of bodies over to them.
"What's going on, Professor?" he asked her.
Her face was set in a look of resolve. "Come with me. We're going to figure all this out."
She took off down the hall. Ron shrugged, and followed her.
"Why do we have to come?" Hermione asked, struggling to keep up.
"Because you and Harry are friends, and I can assure you that someone here has been trying to kill Harry. It will help me greatly if the three of you come along."
"What about Olivia?" Harry asked.
"Unimportant." Trait waved a hand as they arrived at her classroom. She swept open the door, herded them in, and locked it behind her. Then, she strode purposefully to her desk, and pulled out a torch. She lit it with a plastic light she produced from a pocket in her robe, and held it out to Harry and his friends.
"This is a portkey. Touch it, so that we can get out of here." Trait said.
"Where will it take us?" Ron asked.
"To a carefully laid trap designed to catch the one who's been causing problems all year."
The three teens exchanged glances: this is what they had been waiting for! They all reached out and hesitantly put a finger on the torch.
There was a by-now-familiar jerk somewhere below Harry's navel, and the world swirled around him.
And then they were in a small room. There were stone walls all around them, and a wooden door in front of them. Trait pulled the torch away from their grasp, and slid it into a holder attached to the wall. Other than the torch, which lit up the room with a eerie flickering light, the room was completely empty.
"Here." Trait traced a circle on the floor with her wand. "Step in here, you'll be safer in here." She muttered a spell, and the circle glowed with golden light.
Harry stepped gingerly into the circle, feeling a blast of cold air as he stepped over the line she had made. "Professor, who do you think has been causing these problems?"
"I don't know," Trait said with a wry grin, but we'll soon find out. I've got several spells set up so that whoever it is will think the three of you are here all alone. It's too good for them to turn down, so they will come bursting through that door in a minute." She gestured to the door with her wand, as Ron and Hermione also stepped into the circle.
After about half a minute, Trait frowned. "Something's not right." She gazed all around the room, though what she could see beyond stone walls and a thatched roof was beyond Harry. Then, her gaze rested on him. "You have your wands."
Harry and Hermione nodded, but Ron looked stricken. "I forgot, I left mine in that classroom!"
"Good," Trait said. "Harry, you hand me yours. We want whoever it is to think you're helpless."
Harry stared at her. "Actually, if I gave you my wand, then I would be helpless, wouldn't I?"
Trait thought about that for a moment. "I suppose you're right. You always were good at this kind of thing, hmm." It wasn't a question. She turned back to the door. "They should be here any moment now. Any minute now I'll find out who's been wrecking my plans all year long." Trait didn't seem to be talking to either of the three of them, so they kept quiet.
A moment later, there was a warped sound outside, like a plastic zipper being very rapidly unzipped. And then, a voice called, "Alohomora!"
The wooden door swung open very, very slowly. Outside, Harry could see enough to know that they were in the Forbidden Forest.
And standing right outside the door was Olivia. Her wand was out, and her face was grim. Her glasses were gone, and somehow she seemed to be several inches taller.
"What are you doing here?" Trait sounded annoyed. "You-" She cut herself off. "You're the one!" She raised her wand. "How smart. Right under my nose, of course I wouldn't see it. You're the one who has been causing these problems, sabotaging my plans!"
Olivia stared her straight in the eye. And smiled.
Author's Note: AUGH! This is NOT where I wanted to cut this chapter off! Oh well. Next chapter will be a doozy! Please review, or I might not get around to the next chapter for, say, another couple weeks?
By the way, before you blame and flame me for being too obvious, or having too simple a plotline, wait for and read the next chapter. I won't say anymore: hee hee!
Also, for those of you who like Malfoy, your chapter will come! If not next chapter then the one after that.
Amethyst