Chapter Twenty- Two

A/N: Brief—don't ask me why and how two teenagers can sneak out of the Gryffindor tower without an Invisibility Cloak or any other protection without being stealthy at all and make it to the owlery and back to their common room unscathedgo along with it for the sake of my sanity—I don't feel like rewriting that portion and prolonging not posting this. Thank you for your time and cooperation. Anda happy chapter! Happier than most of mine, anyway.

Chapter Twenty- Two

The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes

Harry followed Firenze down a long, ironclad path that seemed to be leading them deeper into the forest than already they were. Harry didn't particularly mind at this point, as Firenze had assured him that no evil could enter the areas surrounding the unicorns' grounds. Though unsure of the centaur's word he was, it still comforted Harry to know that at least something was protecting him other than himself.

As they walked, Firenze's hooves clattered eerily against the iron path, and Harry could even hear his own shoes lightly tapping the ground. He had left his Invisibility Cloak behind, of course, but his wand was securely in his back pocket, ready for emergencies.

"The path will open any moment into the gardens," said the centaur suddenly.

Sure enough, several moments later, walls of green began fading slowly into place. They half reminded Harry of the third task from the Triwizard Tournament, the way they rose several feet in the air like a maze. Firenze must have seen the hesitation cross Harry's face briefly, as he slowed their pace slightly (they had been walking rather quickly).

"Anything wrong, Harry Potter?" he questioned softly, his voice resounding throughout the chamber-like gardens.

Another moment's indecision passed between the two before Harry spoke again.

"Yes," he said firmly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Harry glanced around, the sound of a water flow now reaching his ears. "What's that noise?" he quipped curiously.

"There are several rivers that run through the forest, and we have the fortune of hosting their intersection point," said Firenze, his eyes glowing in happiness. "Over there is Bane River, named after Bane himself, to the right is the Midway River; it runs through the central-most point of the Forbidden Forest, and just ahead is the Tusle River, it's the most rapid, and the last one we just namedthe Tallow River, after your Defense teacher this year."

Firenze trailed slowly off, his eyes boring into Harry's. Harry couldn't help but look uncomfortably away, pain blossoming in the pit of his stomach.

"I'm sorry for reminding you," prompted Firenze upon seeing the human's reaction. "I should not have done so."

"It's all right," Harry said vaguely. "Where are the actual gardens?"

Firenze began walking again in the direction Harry assumed was the gardens, so he followed briskly. The trail lightened a bit up ahead, he noted, and just as they were reaching the light, somebody called out Harry's name.

"Hey—Harry!"

Harry whirled quickly around after recovering from the initial shock of being addressed so loudly in such a tranquil place. Robbie McKinnon was fast-approaching, wearing a look of amazement, her eyes round with some kind of emotion Harry wasn't used to seeing.

"Evening, Firenze," she said jovially, bounding down the path after them.

Harry quizzically looked over to Firenze, who smiled kindly.

"Yes, I've introduced Miss McKinnon around, shown her the neighborhood," he said quietly. "Really quite a nice girl," he added good-naturedly. "Good evening, Robbie!"

"Good to see you, too, Harry Potter," she teased easily.

"Er—yeah, hello, Robbie," Harry said awkwardly. "Where's Kirk?" he added, scanning the surrounding area, getting used to never seeing the two of them out of each other's company.

"I haven't brought him here yet, actually," she said quickly.

"Why not?" a befuddled Harry asked. "I figured you two never left each other."

Robbie obviously didn't want to answer, this; she hastily changed the subject.

"Come on, Firenze, let's show Harry the gardens!" she said excitedly before darting off towards the light.

Harry turned slowly to Firenze, who appeared to be deep in thought.

"What color are her eyes?" the centaur said quietly.

"Blue," said Harry, "why?"

"Because the last time I saw her, they were green," Firenze stated, his eyes flicking open.

They both stood in silence for a moment.

"You're not saying—surely you don't think that Robbie is the traitor!" Harry exclaimed.

"It is possible," said Firenze quickly, "that she has a form of eyes that change color—" they started walking after her "—called kaleidoscope eyes, but I've only seen that once in my life."

"Kaleidoscope eyes, eh?"

"Yes, it's very rare. It could mean a number of things."

"Like what?" Harry asked, coming to an abrupt halt.

"Nothing I should tell you," Firenze said promptly. "I'm sworn to silence."

They walked the rest of the way in silence before the path opened completely up, revealing several magnificent creatures, formed by flowers of all sorts on the walls of the hedge.

"Wow," breathed Harry. He reached out and lightly touched a carnation that formed the beak of a duck. "Who built these?"

"Oriel Potter," said Firenze, very quietly. Had Harry's mind not been so bedazzled, he'd have made the connection, but, being in the current state it was, he couldn't properly think. "She was the elf who lived here. She took care of these gardens like they were her children"

Harry reached slowly out and was tapping a lily in the center of a spiral formation when without warning his forehead split with pain radiating from his scar.

A scream sounded from his mouth, but he barely heard it as he collapsed to the ground, clutching his head as tears of pain splashed down his front. He thought he was going to die, black out completely, he even wanted to, if it would end the painhe rolled on the ground, his body writhinghelp mehe pleaded silentlyGod help meI can't take the painI can't take itHELP ME!

The words echoed in his mind over and over, the white hot pain, burning mercilessly on.

Then, very suddenly, the pain ceased completely. Harry's body was still twitching, however, as he shakily rose to his feet. Firenze looking worriedly on.

"What happened, Harry?" he asked immediately.

"I" he panted unsteadily, "don't know." He regained his composure quickly, then asked, a bit more rationally this time, "Where's Robbie?"

Firenze glanced around.

"Must've left," he muttered contemptuously.

Harry said nothing, his mind beginning to process the information.

"What do you know that I don't, Firenze?" he quipped suddenly.

The centaur eyed him wearily for a moment, and ended up saying nothing.

"I know you know something more than you're letting on," Harry pressed quietly.

Firenze sighed perceptibly. "The girl with kaleidoscope eyes" was all he murmured before hastily sputtering, "You'd better get back to the school now, Harry Potter. Feel free to come back any time you wish."

Harry suspiciously eyed the centaur for several moments, who averted his gaze elsewhere. After several moments, he nodded slowly.

"See you later, Firenze."

He walked back to the edge of the path, grabbed his cloak and hastened to pull it on, then glanced back at the centaur, whose attention had turned to the paling skies. Shaking his head, Harry wistfully walked away, silently cursing Voldemort.

***

January left with yet another wild thunderstorm, gales of wind whistling by in the upper towers of Hogwarts. The thirty-first seemed to drawl itself out with the storm as well, making the day longer and longer. Dumbledore announced at dinner that night that Mundungus Fletcher would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts for the remainder of the year. Fletcher was a pompous, rather short wizard (Ron and Harry were both taller than him) that seemed fairly jovial and boisterous.

After the storm finally subsided on the second of February, Fred and George announced that there would be a Quidditch meeting for Gryffindor team that night. Harry reluctantly marched to the pitch with the rest of the team, not wanting practice to start up again so soon.

"All right, now we've nearly got this thing in the bag," Fred started, glancing anxiously at his and George's team.

"And Hufflepuff stomped Slytherin, so we're in the clear for that—Slytherin will have to win by one hundred points to even have a hope of winning the cup itself."

"And I know that all of our team—other than the respective Keeper—" Kirk grinned broadly "—have major tests to study for, but we—"

"—feel that this is much more important. Think of what this could do for our future careers!"

"We might even play Quidditch professionally, if we play our cards right!"

"So you'll be expected to arrive every Sunday at six o'clock to practice. You're dismissed for now, though. Get some rest."

Breathing heavy sighs of relief, the team trooped off the pitch, but Fred and George held Harry up. There was an odd glint in each of their eyes as they smiled mischievously.

"We have some veryinteresting things to cover" began George, concealing his happiness expertly.

"But business before pleasure, so here's the outstanding news for you."

"The coach of the English Quidditch team himself will be observing the entire team next game, to see if any of us have potential for the team."

Harry's mouth fell open, shock waves sweeping through him before happiness overwhelmed him, too.

"That's great! You guys might actually get to play for England!"

"It's not us particularly, though it would be nice," dreamed Fred momentarily.

"We thought you would have a better chance than anyone to make it, mate."

Another stunned silence followed George's words. Harry's eyes became unusually round as he glanced from Fred to George. Surely they didn't mean—

"He told us that the youngest they could play someone professionally is fifteen," George said soberly.

"Which means that our little Seeker may be a big boy now!" Fred exclaimed delightfully.

"You mean—I could really play for—seriously?!" Harry sputtered. "I'm not sure, thoughwait, what am I saying?" he added, wincing slightly at his own stupidity. "That'd bewow!"

"You're telling us!" said Fred happily.

"And Oliver's been accepted onto the team for next season, so he would be there to look after you," George added, smiling slightly.

"The only thing is that you'd either have to get your aunt and uncle accustomed to your leaving nearly every other week, or"

"live with us the summer!"

The twins beamed at their own brilliancy. Harry was overcome with mixed emotions of happiness, ecstasy, and still, shock. He opened his mouth to say something, decided nothing was appropriate, and mouthed soundlessly.

"I'd love it!" he said finally.

The twins glanced at each other, smiling appreciatively.

"Knew you wouldn't want to miss the chance, Harry," said Fred with a gleam in his eye.

"We thought we'd tell you, just to make sure you don'tget sick or something like last time."

"I'll stay in good health, I promise you," said Harry seriously. "What else did you want to tell me? I'm kind of knackered here, only."

Fred and George exchanged impish glances.

"When you go to potions tomorrow, be sure to tell Hermione to answer every question correctly that Snape asks," said George quietly.

Harry's brow furrowed, confusion and suspicion evident on his face.

"She does that anyway, though."

"Just make sure she especially does tomorrow, though. And here—" Fred gave Harry what appeared to be a tape recorder.

"Record what goes on in class with that."

"But—it won't work, it's a Muggle item," said Harry, rather befuddled at their strange attitude.

"We've wired it off magic so that it does work," said George, waving an impatient hand.

"Just do that for us, and we'll be eternally grateful," said Fred, winking.

Harry eyed them strangely for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"I'll be going to bed now, though. Goodnight Fred, George."

They waved merrily after him. Harry left the pitch, Firebolt in one hand and tape recorder in the other. He paused slightly, eyeing the tape recorder skeptically, then grinned to himself. Potions could certainly end up being a verylearning experience, if Fred and George were as good at pranks as they said.

From experience, Harry knew they were.

Harry disdainfully eyed Professor Snape as the potions master glided idly into the dungeons the next day. He pulled the twins' tape recorder out of his pocket and sat it carefully on the edge of his desk. Ron gave him a funny look as he punched the record button. Harry gave Ron and Hermione a small, lopsided grin, a twinkle in his emerald eyes.

Snape glanced around the room, a cruel smile lighting his features. Harry suddenly wondered where this happiness was coming from—what did the professor have in store for them next?

"Today, we will be making a standard Pepper-Up Potion," he said quietly. "Can anyone tell me the ingredients?"

Hermione's hand shot immediately up, but Snape expertly ignored it. Malfoy's hand slowly raised, the usual smirk on his pale face.

"Malfoy?" inquired Snape in an un-Snape-like tone.

"Well, Professor," drawled Malfoy easily, "the potion's main ingredients are peppers, hot sauce, and the hair of a mlipper."

"That is incorrect, Malfoy, and five points from Slytherin for prolonging your foolish answer," Snape snapped, then his eyes widened.

The Gryffindors simultaneously burst into laughter at the look of horror on each of the Slytherins' faces. Malfoy's smirk vanished without a trace, leaving a very disgruntled look in its place.

Snape seemed to have lost all control of himself; he gestured for Hermione to give her answer.

"P-peppers, hot sau—sauce, and—and a standard Pepper Breath charm," she choked out promptly between her giggles.

"Correct, Miss Granger, five points to Gryffindor!" said Snape in such a voice of enthusiasm that several of the Gryffindors fell out of their chairs in laughter.

The gales of laughter had only barely subsided when Snape awarded ten points to Gryffindor for Neville's "outstanding potion," as Snape himself had put it. Tears were streaming down the Gryffindors' faces by halfway through the class, when it was finally time to test their potions.

"I'll give whoever has the most peppered-up potion fifty points to their house!" said Snape happily and in an unbecoming tone that would've suited a five year old better than a sour professor.

Harry was forced to take a spoonful of Hermione's (forced because he knew he'd be bouncing around the rest of the day with her expertise) potion, which ended up being the best out of everyone's; Harry couldn't stop jumping around the classroom, and the Slytherins broke out into laughter.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor for the amazingly powerful potion done by Miss Hermione Granger," Snape exuberantly began, "and fifty points from Slytherin for their rude behavior towards Mr. Potter."

The Slytherins instantly shut up, mouths agape at their head of house. By now, not a single Gryffindor hadn't fallen out of his or her chair; they all rolled on the ground in laughter. The Slytherins looked angrily on; Snape watched them with a satisfied expression on his face, even a grin.

"Fifty points to Gryffindor for the amazingly powerful potion done by Miss Hermione Granger—fifty points to Gryffindor—amazingly powerful potion—fifty points from Slytherin—rude behavior—Mr. Potter." Fred played the tape for the whole of Gryffindor to hear, forwarding it to the good parts. The whole house was laughing harder than ever.

Fred and George bowed, receiving massive applause from everyone.

"That was brilliant, you two!" shouted Angelina over the raucous, and Katie nodded fervently at her side. She bit her lip shyly, then suggested seductively, "Why don't we celebrate the turn of Snape to the light side?"

The twins grinned at Harry as they were pulled away by Angelina and Katie. The rest of Gryffindor still howled with laughter.

After several hours of listening to Snape's humiliation (and after a monstrous party, celebrating the finer aspects of the day they had just experienced), just as the clock chimed four o'clock, Harry found Ginny through the rapidly decreasing crowd of people.

"Want to go with me to the owlery?" he asked quietly. "I'm going to owl Hagrid to see if we can go to his cabin for tea tomorrow."

"Sure," said Ginny. Then she added, reluctantly, "I thought after your escapade that we weren't allowed outside anymore, though."

Harry blushed slightly, recalling that everyone had thought Voldemort had had him when he'd been in the gardens—something he had straightened up when he'd walked into his dorm, having been greeted by mourners of the death of Harry Potter. Professor McGonagall had been simply furious with him for not telling anyone where he was going, and had forbade him and the other three of going outside without teacher chaperone.

"Well, if I owl Hagrid, he'll escort us, couldn't he?" Harry asked innocently.

Ginny gave him one of her torn looks, then nodded.

"Where're Ron and Hermi, by the way?" she asked as they headed out of the portrait hole.

"Off snogging, most likely," said Harry vaguely.

Ginny giggled.

"They missed Snape's performance."

Harry eyed her wearily for a moment.

"Er—they were witnesses to it, remember? They're in my class."

Ginny turned scarlet this time.

"Right," she muttered. "Sorry, it's just been one of those days."

"Snape wasn't ever so delighted to see your class, then, I take it?" Harry asked, grinning broadly. "I don't remember ever having such an enjoyable potions."

Both chortled as they neared the owlery.

"Hedwig, yoo-hoo?" Harry said quietly. Hedwig fluttered down to where he and Ginny stood, nipping at his fingers affectionately. Harry suddenly realized he didn't have a piece of parchment or quill with him. "Er—you wouldn't happen to have a quill, would you?" he asked. "Or parchment?"

"Magic, Harry, conjure one," Ginny teased. "You haven't forgotten, have you?"

"Er—right."

Harry, after conjuring a quill and parchment, scrawled a short note to Hagrid and gave it to Hedwig.

"Do be quick," he said as she flew briskly off. He nodded, satisfied, then glanced curiously at the very-silent Ginny.

"Anything wrong, Gin?" he asked in concern.

Ginny gave him a blank look for several moments before shaking her head, as though trying to clear it.

"What was that?" she asked in confusion. "Sorry, I got a bit preoccupied there."

Harry grinned at her.

"You're all right, aren't you?" he repeated delicately.

"Yeah," she said softly.

But she didn't look fine to Harry; her face was as pale as it had been when she'd been in the Chamber of Secrets, and there were sags under her eyes.

"Are you sure?" he prompted gently.

She nodded solemnly.

"Yes."

"We'd better get back to the common room before they start thinking we're doing things we shouldn't be," smiled Harry, causing Ginny to blush slightly.

She assumed a look of angelic innocence, then sidled in close to Harry, her arms going up impishly around his neck. He nervously glanced at her.

"You mean you wouldn't want to take a leaf out of Ron's book?"

This question stumped Harry. He frowned thoughtfully at Ginny, who now sported a dazzling smile. His insides fluttered.

"Er—well—uh—" he sputtered off unintelligibly.

Ginny cackled a Fred-and-George cackle and dashed off after kissing his forehead. As Harry watched her go, a smile small began to play at his lips. The sun had started to faintly rise in the pale dawn sky, and several of its warm rays began to trickle into the owlery.

His smile broadened, then he ran merrily after Ginny.

As Harry walked down for breakfast the next morning, his eyes sagging from staying up all night (though the other Gryffindors were like that as well), Kirk Joseph bumped casually into him.

"Morning, Kirk!" he greeted jovially.

Kirk smiled, revealing a bloody lip and a gash above his eyebrow. Both were bleeding profusely.

"Morning, Harry," he said, his voice still full of its usual happiness.

"What happened?" Harry demanded incredulously. "How'd you get into trouble this early?"

Kirk's smile broadened.

"Malfoy had quite a problem with me when I accidentally spilled milk all over him," said Kirk innocently. "He got a little shirty and hit me with his fist first, then with a piece of glass after I threw him onto the ground and cracked his ribs."

At that moment, Malfoy ran by, clutching his side and leaving a bloody trail, wailing, "Shit, this hurts!"

"He'll be fine in about seven weeks," said Kirk lightly, rubbing his forehead to get the blood off of it. "I only broke two ribs. Actually," he added seriously, seeming to immensely enjoy the look of shock on Harry's face, "I'd only meant to break one, but the other was just kind of a bonus, I guess. I just used a standard cross check on him without a hockey stick. Otherwise he'd have a hell of a few more ribs broke, trust me. Later, Harry, I'd better get this mended."

Wondering how on earth McGonagall hadn't seen the pair of them, Harry headed on down towards the Great Hall. It struck him how funny the whole situation was—a fifteen year old had lost a fight to an eleven year old. He laughed to himself before entering the Great Hall.

Tension seemed to have settled down over the hall; the Gryffindors and Slytherins were glaring at each other—through the Gryffindors' laughter—and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs seemed to be debating which side to take. Obviously they'd witnessed the whole thing. Harry quickly darted over to a seat between Ginny and Ron, Hermione being on the other side of Ron.

"You've only just missed it, Harry!" said Ginny, trying to hide her excitement.

"Yeah, I know, I passed Kirk," said Harry. "He said that he and Malfoy had a scrap."

"And a bloody good one at that!" Ron heaved, smiling serenely.

"Watch your language Ron," Hermione reprimanded, though she, too, was grinning.

"It was hilarious to begin with," Ron explained. "Kirk started it by using a curse to spill Malfoy's milk, you know—just for fun. Malfoy took exception to it and punched Kirk's lip. It didn't even phase Kirk! His lip was bleeding, but he put both arms forward and launched himself at Malfoy with full force—you should've seen Malfoy's face! It was so awesome! Anyway Malfoy went down really hard onto the floor, then Kirk kicked him several times in the ribs. It was priceless!"

Harry chuckled at the looks the Slytherins were giving the Gryffindors, then vice versa.

Hedwig swooped down towards Harry midway through breakfast, sporting a small note, presumably from Hagrid.

Harry,

I'll meet you lot in the entrance hall at six o'clock tonight. I'll be glad to see you again.

Hagrid

Harry briefly told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, then stroked Hedwig a moment before she took off.

"I'll be glad to see Hagrid again," said Hermione. "I wondered why we hadn't gone to see him" she added in a scrutinizing tone.

"Well—we've been studying and what not this year for the O.W.L.'s, haven't we?" Harry replied defensively.

"Now, now, children, no fighting at breakfast." Fred grinned over at Harry from where he, George, and Lee sat, buried in a piece of parchment with lots of messy writing on it.

"What's that?" Ron asked in interest.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are back," said Lee with a glint in his eyes.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all chortled. Hermione tried to look disapproving for a moment, then burst out laughing with them.

"Going to open up your store when you get out?" Harry asked, very clearly amused.

"We plan on it," said George hastily. "Long as Mum has anything to say about it, though—no, we're going to apply at the Ministry." He imitated a look of innocence that only increased their laughing.

"You in on this at all, Lee?" Ginny asked curiously.

"'Course I am," said Lee stoutly, "it's a gold mine!"

"What do Angelina, Katie, and Alicia have to say about this whole thing?" asked Ron, smirking.

"And what about Quidditch?" said Harry meaningfully.

The twins and Lee exchanged a glance—they obviously hadn't thought of this.

"Good point, actually" trailed Fred. "It all depends on the final."

"Just be sure of yourselves," warned Harry severely. "You wouldn't want to miss out on a brilliant opportunity."

"Point taken, Harry," said George quietly.

They rose with their parchment, then walked quickly away.

"'Bye, guys!" Ginny yelled after them, sniggering. "What was that about Quidditch?" she added to Harry inquisitively.

"Right, I forgot to tell you guys, didn't I?" he said quietly. "There's going to be a person representing the English Quidditch team observing our team and the Slytherins during the final. Fred and George acted like I had a good chance of getting on the team next season, and after all, the youngest they can pay someone for playing with them is fifteen—I'd be able to play if they wanted me."

Ron's mouth was hanging wide open.

"That's incredible, Harry!" he practically shouted. "Quidditch with England?! Wow!"

Ginny's reaction was a lot like her brother's; she was excited for Harry more than anything. Hermione's reaction was as expected, though; she frowned worriedly at him.

"Won't you get hurt a lot, though?" she asked quietly. "And you'll be gone most of the summer."

"Hermione, even I'm against you this time," said Ginny breathlessly, "it would be such an honor to play Quidditch with any national team, let alone our national team!"

"Harry might even take them to the finals!" Ron added exuberantly.

Harry flushed brightly, beaming.

"I reckon it would be a great experience," he said. "I'd love to do it, too! But first they'd have to want me"

"Be realistic, Harry!" Ginny said severely. "You're a fantastic Seeker!"

Harry turned even darker red.

"C'mon, Ron, we've got band," he said stuttery. "Bye, Mione, Gin."

With that, he bounded from the Great Hall to prevent steam from coming from his ears and to retrieve his trumpet, which he supposed felt neglected—he hadn't practiced in forever.

Well. The sun certainly has finally come up after so long times of darkness.

Don't rest so assured. The dark has only begun.

Harry jumped at the voice of Firenze in his head.

I need you to bring Ginny and Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger here as soon as you get out of school tonight. Come however you can and as soon as you can. It is urgent.

What, er, happened? Harry found it odd talking to himself.

Something's entered the gardens that shouldn't have.

***

COLORADO WON!!!!!!!!!! 3-1 FINAL SCORE, 4-3 IN THE SERIES! THEY WON THE STANLEY CUP! RAY BOURQUE AFTER 22 YEARS OF NOT WINNING! HURRAH!