Hope you enjoy this chapter too, and that the author alerts are working again. Keep reviewing please, and I'll keep writing as quickly as I can. 5 more chapters to go… Still JKR's world.
Curiouser and Curiouser
"If - and the thing is wildly possible - the charge of writing nonsense
were ever brought against the author…"
Lewis Carroll
Ginny sat in the hearth, firelight glinting and rebounding energetically off the coppery tones in her hair; her face cast into shadow as she stared down at the stone she held in her hands. One hand thoughtfully stroked the shimmering flat surface, utterly absorbed in memories but she glanced up when Harry dropped to his knees beside her.
"It is. I'm sure it is," she whispered, sounding quite amazed at her own discovery.
"What is it?" he responded, in a voice as quiet as her own. "Tell me, Ginny."
"An Hour Stone," she said softly, her deep brown eyes looking steadily into his own and filling him with warmth. "It lets you see a little way into the future, Harry."
"You haven't seen me in Divination," Harry laughed. "I've never yet seen anything other than swirly white mist in that crystal ball. My powers of invention are pretty good, though."
"Oh, this is different," she said, shaking her head and smiling a little. "This only gives us an hour ahead of where we are now, and it's restricted to place as well, which makes it a lot more accurate than usual divination. If we looked at it here, it'd show us what could be happening in an hour's time, right here in the common room."
"Could?" Harry asked.
"Yes," she grinned, eyes sparkling through the dimness of the room. "I think the mischief Sirius was referring to is the challenge of changing the future. Why stick with things the way they are? After all, we both know that we can't change the past, but the future isn't settled yet. It could be a lot of fun."
"So it'll only show you the future for the location you're in when you use it?" Harry asked, trying to clarify matters in his own mind.
"That's right," she said, nodding slowly. "If you used it in the Great Hall, you'd see the future there; if you used it in your room, you'd probably just get Ron snoring. And if you ever use it in my room, Mr Potter… " She paused, and the corner of her mouth twitched with mischief, the way Harry adored. " May I just remind you that due to my experiences with six older brothers, I have an extremely large repertoire of entertaining spells to use as revenge."
"I'll remember that," he chuckled, blushing slightly. "Show me how it works."
Ginny, scrabbled quickly for her wand, and then shuffled away from the fire to be close beside Harry so he could see the stone too.
"
Harry stared in amazement as what had previously been a solid rock retained its outline and yet began to ripple, ebb and flow like liquid mercury. The ripples subsided, and in the shimmering pool confined within Ginny's hands, images began to form. Dimly a picture of the common room could be seen, candlelight glinting, and fire blazing warmth through the empty room. The portrait hole swung silently open, yet neither wizard nor ghost was seen. Stillness remained in this place, perforated only by the crackling fire and spitting logs. As the portrait hole closed, Harry noticed a sudden movement, as what could only have been the invisibility cloak was removed in a swift flourish, drifting like silver gossamer from his appearing fingers. Ginny, too, materialised from nowhere, standing very close in front of him, trembling slightly, her eyes wide with uncertainty.
Harry's brow furrowed as he watched the images, and without thinking about it, slid his arm around Ginny's waist to somehow try and protect her from something that hadn't even happened yet. She smiled briefly up at him, and returned her gaze to the stone, where the figures of themselves were lost in a silent embrace. The picture flickered and died; the liquid nature of the magic reverting once more to the opaqueness of solid stone in Ginny's hand.
"So, that'll be happening in an hour's time?" he wondered out loud, slightly incredulous that he was actually seeing the future, rather than inventing it, for a change.
"It could be," Ginny responded in an strangely serious tone. "Depends on what we do to change it. I wonder what's going to happen. That looked a bit odd."
"You looked upset," Harry said, thoughtfully. "Maybe we should just leave things for tonight, then it can't happen."
"Harry!" she sounded quite scandalised at the thought. "It'll happen anyway. All that'll have changed is that we won't know what it is." She leapt up and held her hand out for him. "C'mon. Let's go and find out."
Reluctantly, Harry got to his feet, knowing she was right, and reached for the Marauder's Map, which he'd brought downstairs with him. He touched it with his wand, declaring that he was absolutely up to no good, and watched the familiar lines shooting across the parchment, drawing the boundaries and passageways of the castle and all those contained within it. Ginny watched in fascination as a couple of dots stalked through the corridors, marking Argus Filch and Mrs Norris patrolling the third floor.
"Keep your eye on that," he whispered in her ear, passing her the map. "It shows everyone in Hogwarts and it'll tell us if anyone is nearby. Even though they can't see us, we're still solid under the cloak, and we'll be in trouble if anyone walks into us."
"This was your dad's?" she asked in awe, touching the little dot with her own name above it in minuscule writing, right next to his own. Harry nodded, and watched Ginny's face break into an impish grin. "You know," she said, her brown eyes dancing merrily. "I think I'd have liked your dad. He did rule breaking with real style!"
Harry chuckled softly, and threw the invisibility cloak around them; smoother than silk, and as light as air. Ginny shivered as the fabric brushed over her, falling in waves around their feet.
"Stay close," Harry whispered as they moved into the moonlit corridor beyond the portrait hole.
They wandered slowly through the eerie silence of the school, uncertain of what they were looking for, or even where they were going. The long passageways twisted and turned into one another; high windows sent shafts of pale blue light searing through the shadows into elongated shapes stretching across the floor. Armour glinted in this ghostly light, making the figures seem as if they were about to move at any second, whilst darkness appeared to be creeping up stealthily, encroaching upon them from every corner. The moon was flimsy in the frosty night air, yet her beams were enough for them as they wound their way around the place.
Ginny paused abruptly in a patch of moonlight by a large window, and Harry collided with her.
"This is weird," she said fervently, looking down at the ground and stepping heavily backwards. "We're not casting shadows or anything."
"That's because we're invisible, Gin," he teased in an undertone. "Can you get off my foot, please?" he added, sounding mildly anguished.
"Sorry," she giggled softly, removing the offending part of her anatomy. "I was wondering what that was. It's difficult to see what you're up to under here."
"I'm not up to anything," Harry protested, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender and trying not to laugh. "That is, nothing apart from luring you to be alone with me, out of bounds in the middle of the night, with all sorts of magical objects we probably shouldn't have. Other than that, I think we're absolutely fine."
A sudden movement ahead made them freeze with fear. Footsteps sounded quickly along the narrow fourth floor corridor, muffled at first and then becoming increasingly clearer as they approached. Harry came to his senses, caught Ginny's hand, and rapidly pulled her flat against the wall, his arm pinning her in. They held their breath and waited. An eternity seemed to tick by. They waited. At last the silhouette of a man in a black gown appeared, the darkness of his shoulder length hair, and the hooked nose of his profile clearly visible as he passed through the strip of moonlight right beside them, and onwards, up the stairs to the fifth floor. As he disappeared from view, Harry felt Ginny relax beneath his arm, her unsteady breathing drifting past his ear echoing the pounding of his own heart.
"I forgot to watch the map," she whispered apologetically.
"Where's he off to?" Harry muttered with urgency.
"Heading past the Muggle Studies classrooms." Ginny quickly squinted at the map, and traced the dot with her finger. "He's up on the main fifth floor corridor."
"There's something wrong there somewhere," Harry said quietly, musing over what he had just seen. "It's not often you see Snape out of the dungeons. I wonder what he's up to."
"Well, there's only one way to find out," Ginny said slowly, and gripping Harry's hand tightly, she began to climb the stairs.
Voices could be heard; the deep voices of men speaking quickly and urgently. Sounds of rapid movement and rifling through drawers were easily identifiable, as Harry and Ginny shrank breathlessly back into a shadowy alcove opposite the room in question. They listened and waited. The map clearly showed Severus Snape and an entirely unfamiliar name located within, and they sounded frantic. Words were not distinguishable until, after a few moments of silence, the door flew open with considerable force, Snape's silhouette standing in the frame.
"I suppose it'll be Potter next," he muttered grimly beneath his breath. "Moblicorpus,"
Harry recognised the spell, but felt his stomach heave when a body suspended grotesquely in mid-air drifted through the darkened doorway. The deathly-white head lolled sideways in the moonlit corridor, a blackened stain of blood flooded the width of the forehead; his limbs twitched in a hideous pantomime, as if suspended from strings by a giant puppet master. The ghastly figure lurched towards them, dark eyes staring sightlessly, relentlessly, right where they were hiding; his face contorted and frozen in agony for all eternity. Ginny whimpered imperceptibly as she stood her ground, but Harry could feel her shaking badly. Snape snapped the door shut behind him, and with a swift glance around him to ensure he was unobserved, strode off down the corridor, his ghoulish companion floating in his wake.
Wordlessly, Harry somehow managed to move Ginny from the spot upon which she was rooted; somehow guided her back through the maze of corridors to the safety of the common room. The portrait hole closed behind them, and he removed the cloak in a swift flourish, letting it drift like silver gossamer from his fingers onto the floor. Ginny stood very close in front of him, trembling still, her dark eyes wide with uncertainty and horror as she slowly turned to face him. Without a sound, she flung herself at him, burying her head deeply in his shoulder, where he held her tightly.
***
"Harry! Harry! Wake up!" Hermione's voice was filled with agitation, and he could feel her shaking his arm. Dimly he wondered why she was trying to wake him; what was she doing in their dormitory anyway? He rolled onto his back. Instead of the bed he was expecting to find beneath him, there was only air. He gasped in astonishment as he felt himself falling, and landed with an unceremonious thump on the floor. Opening his eyes, wondering what on earth was going on, he heard a surprised squeak as a whirl of red crashed down heavily on top of him, winding him completely.
"Harry! Ron is going to kill you when he sees this," Hermione moaned, distractedly looking towards the stairwell.
Harry struggled to fill his lungs with air again, aching with the effort. Between the strands of crimson hair, which half-covered his face, he could make out the common room ceiling, and realised, with a jolt, what must have happened. Ginny scrambled quickly off him, looking very red-faced and incredibly apologetic, as she bent to see if he was injured.
"I'm fine," he wheezed painfully, propping himself up against the sofa and taking a deep breath. Then another. He grinned wickedly at Ginny as his breathing returned to normal. "I didn't realise you weighed so much."
She playfully slapped him, an expression of comical outrage on her face.
"Honestly!" Hermione snapped at the pair of them in a voice that sounded uncannily like Professor McGonagall. "What did you think you were doing? Anyone could have found you."
Harry watched Ginny turn the exact same shade as her hair, and warmth flooded his own face, as he thought about it.
"Hermione," he protested feebly.
"Harry!" she said, furiously. "You know how difficult this is for Ron to deal with. He's trying really hard. You spending the night on the sofa with Ginny is hardly likely to help matters. Is it?"
"We didn't mean to," he explained quickly, flushing even more furiously than before. "Really we didn't, Hermione. It was just that Ginny worked out what the stone did, and we… we saw some things last night we couldn't ignore. I suppose we must have just drifted off. We were down here pretty late talking about it."
Ginny perched on the edge of one of the armchairs nearby and ran her hands through her hair, pushing it off her face.
"It was awful, Hermione," she said, looking rather pale and wan, now that her blushes had subsided. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, and Harry felt his insides melting, as he watched her struggling to wake up properly. "I'm going to go and soak in a bath," she confessed wearily as she got to her feet. "It's probably best if I'm not here when Ron comes down anyway. See you for breakfast, Harry?"
"Yeah. See you for breakfast," he smiled, at what was rapidly becoming a catch phrase in their relationship, and watched her disappear from sight.
"Well? What did happen?" Hermione asked anxiously, and Harry leaned forward and began to explain what had gone on the previous night. He was demonstrating the Hour Stone, when Ron literally ran into the room, still clad in his pyjamas, looking slightly more wild than usual.
"There you are!" he said, in relief, looking at Harry. " Where did you get to last night? Your bed's not been slept in."
"Fell asleep down here," Harry admitted sheepishly, deliberately omitting to tell him the entire truth of the matter. "Hermione's just woken me up. I've got a great crick in my neck this morning, I can tell you," he added, stretching and massaging the aching area.
"Harry's found out what the stone does," Hermione added quickly. "It predicts the future. Tells us what'll be happening in an hour, right here. Look at this!"
Ron leaned over the back of the sofa and watched with interest as the stone glimmered with the magic flowing through it, curiously liquid, yet strangely solid. Images appeared before their eyes, the confines of the common room clearly depicted. This time, Fred and George, laughing mischievously, were planting something beneath a cushion right where they were sitting.
Harry glanced at Ron, and carefully, avoiding the merest mention of Ginny in the tale, repeated what he had witnessed on the fifth floor corridor the previous evening. Hermione blanched at the description of the body, and even Ron looked shaken by the news.
"I suppose it'll be Potter next," he repeated slightly unsteadily. "What's he going to do, Harry?"
***
Breakfast in the holidays was always a strange occasion, although Harry rather liked it. The tables in the Great Hall were laid out as usual, but the students were few and sparsely scattered. The Gryffindor table had only four tiny groups dotted along its length, and the meal was far more relaxed than was usual in term time, with less competition for the marmalade and empty toast racks were instantly replenished. Ginny joined them a little way into the meal, still looking rather tired and drawn, but considerably less dishevelled than when Harry had last seen her. He blushed at the thought.
Various owls swooped into the room in a whirr of fluttering feathers, bringing missives to the room's occupants. The snowy-white coat of Hedwig soared into view, and she plummeted gracefully down to Harry, delivering a letter, and nipping his fingers affectionately with her beak.
"It's from Hagrid," Harry said, through a mouthful of hot buttered toast. "He wants to know if we all want to go down there for tea today."
"Definitely," said Ron, reaching across Ginny for the orange juice.
Hermione was struggling to unravel her copy of 'The Daily Prophet' from one of the school owls. She smiled over at him. "It's a good idea, Harry. He might be able to tell us a bit more about what's going on."
She unrolled her newspaper and scanned the headlines whilst the barn owl took flight with a whoosh of wings. Ron's knife clattered noisily to his plate as he saw her expression change.
"What is it?"
She shook her head, and without saying a word pushed the paper over to Harry, hands trembling.
A wizard photograph dominated the first page. A young man, not far into his twenties was looking up at him under the headline 'Cruciatus Curse Carnage Continues'. Harry didn't need Ginny's horrified gasp to remind him. They had both seen him before, his features twisted almost beyond recognition in agony, suspended in moonlight in the fifth floor corridor.