Disclaimers; I don't own Sailor Moon, she - And the rest of the Senshi - belong to Naoko Takeuchi *All bow* Harry Potter and any of the characters therein also aren't mine. *Sniff* That honor belongs to the great J.K. Rowling. *twaps those who aren't' bowing*




I have to apologize for how late this is... But chapters will take longer to get out now that college is open again... Sorry, but work and study comes first. I'm still wondering whether to continue this at all though...

But anyway... either way, juggling was never my strong point, and I have other fics I'm working too, so have a little patience, please.

And I have to apologize for this chapter in advance... I really didn't feel like writing when I wrote it.. it think I was doing it out of boredom more than anything else...
So I'm sorry if the characters aren't up to scratch... *Bows*

I suck anyway...







THE SENSHI WHO LIVED.



You think I'll weep.
No, I'll not weep.
I have full cause for weeping;
but this heart
Shall break into a hundred
thousand flaws
Or ere I'll weep.

-- William Shakespeare.
'King Lear, Act 2, scene IV'




Chapter 4

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus







Usagi was alone.

This was something she understood innately; it seemed she had always been so. She was a young girl still, but she seemed worn down by the string of fruitless journeys she had taken in her existence's. By the sorrow that only loss could bring. Surviving that loss, over and over until the sorrow seemed to fill her mind and heart with a bottomless wellspring of grief.

She did not know how long it had been since her arrival in the castle - or prison - as she deemed it. It was a prison to her, as much as her own thoughts were.

She slept, and she dreamed, terrible nightmares, and then she would wake again; she would wake to the knowledge that they never would. Never again. Not in that world. Nor in any other.

The one called Dumbledore came and went, as did Luna. Usagi talked to neither of them very much. Though the old man was kind, she usually slept when he was in the room. His silence keeping her a strange sort of company, it comforted her, and it allowed her enough peace of mind to sleep. A dreamless sleep. When he was not silent he would tell her tales, he had an abundance of them. He seemed to understand Usagi's reluctance to speak. She rarely talked. Luna guarded her in the waking hours.

To pass time she had been given books to read. It was more productive - Luna maintained - than staring listlessly at the walls. She had discovered more about the things called Dementors - their dreaded 'Kiss'.

All she had loved was lost.

Their life, their spirits. Gone, like whispers of shadows, as though they had never been.

And that left her alone.

Though in this particular case, it was by her choice.

She regretted her fresh argument with Luna, one in a recent line of many. Her Guardian was doing her best she knew, but Usagi felt so useless, and so alone. She needed the company of others, in that company she found the peace that centered her, the answers that eluded her. She needed those she had lost. But she would never have them again and she knew that. It was a terrible certainty that drove her to remain awake night after night, because when she slept - she would inevitably dream.

But she should not have lashed out at Luna so thoughtlessly - again....

She had been furious; for a brief time the emotion replacing the heartache she felt.

"Never say that again," her voice had been deadly quiet. "They are gone.... I am here. Alone and useless to everyone... What else am I supposed to do!"

Luna had stared at her, righteousness in her gaze. She slowly had gotten to her feet and leapt from the bed. Her eyes had been bright with an emotion Usagi could not place.

"Alone!" she had repeated. "If the crystal is so important to him, why isn't he here to take it? I never wanted it to begin with Luna!"

Abruptly she had pulled to tiny globe from her pocket and then had flung it at Luna's feet. "There! Take it, guard it until he comes for it. My duty is done."

The crystal had chimed softly against the wood panels, rolled across the floor, then slowly wound to a stop near Luna's feet. The cat's face had been a study of gentle horror at her words, Usagi realised. A very long time had passed. Silence reigned in the room, save for Usagi's soft panting.

Slowly Luna had drawn closer to the crystal, bending low to touch her face to it, her eyes slid shut. For a brief instant Usagi had seen pain - pure physical discomfort - flicker across the feline features, then she had drawn back. Raising her head she had looked once more at Usagi, before stepping lightly around the crystal orb and through the door, which closed softly behind her.

Leaving Usagi alone again.


She had almost cried after that, she had wanted to, more at her cruelty to Luna than anything else. Her Guardian had suffered as much as she. Luna had lost all she loved too, and the one she would always love. Usagi had no right to take her grief out on the cat, not when Luna was stricken as well.

She had never been cut out as Moon Princess, always relying on others to save her somehow. Through battles, in and out of, it had always been the same. She had come to rely on her fellow Senshi. She had always though they would be there.
But now those others were gone and Usagi knew that without them she would fall. Possibly she should have long before, and it had only been luck that had kept her so precariously alive all that time. Balancing on the threads of chance.

That - or fate was being cruel again. Perhaps it sought to prolong her agony for as long as possible, maybe there was some higher deity watching her gleefully even as she suffered, reveling in each tortured breath she strove to take...

Her only desire was to curl up in the cozy mattress in the center of the room and leave the world far behind, and perhaps cry a little.

But she could not cry. She discovered that fact as soon as she enough consciousness to attempt it. But the tears of frustration, anger or pain never came.
She would sit in the silence, feeling the grief and anger and sheer yearning build up inside her like a torrent of waves, but it would never come crashing to shore.
Had fate and circumstance taken even that from her? Was it so much that things no longer affected her that she could not weep? She felt grief, but could not shed the tears to show it. Her loss and her silence spoke for it, but her tears would confirm it.

She had not cried since that night.

So she was alone, and her regret left her too unsettled to sit still and read. For the first time in weeks, Usagi felt the desire to walk, to move, to be outside in the sun and air. She felt restless. It was an old feeling that had been part of her personality - before that fateful night. It felt strange to encounter it again. As strange as the first stirrings of curiosity and conscious realization had been when she used to awake and find Dumbledore rambling on, speaking those old legends to her as she slept. Usagi found it did not disconcert her as it probably should have.

She eyed the door in idle curiosity. She had been ordered by Luna to remain in the room at all times.

She had never obeyed Luna really. Not in the past.

With that thought in mind, and a strange sense of determination, she reached over and plucked a long cloak from the stand adjacent to the door. Deep and velvet - black. Not her color, she once would have argued.
She had said nothing upon seeing the cloak the first time. Obviously it was intended for her. Perhaps Dumbledore had placed it there, though why Usagi did not know. It seemed she was to remain confined. So a cloak would be of no use to her.

But then, perhaps the elderly man had foreseen her eventual restlessness as well....

It seemed to Usagi, though he acted absentminded, that Dumbledore saw much.






** ** **






She landed on her feet, a little ruffled, but still pleased. Though she wisely hid it from Snape as he towered over her, slender, dark and altogether menacing.

"What do you think you're doing cat?"

Trying to dispel the sense of mischief she was feeling in connection to her antics - and failing - she answered rather primly.

"Asking for directions actually."

The potions Master's voice was laced with disbelief, and more than a little disdain. It was also dangerously soft. A warning bell went off in Luna's head.

"What?"

She ignored it, as she ignored is tone. It was something only a cat could truly manage.

"I was lost. You're the only one I know here and one of the only people I can actually talk to."

She heard a mumbled "Unfortunately," from him but ignored it.

He glared at her through her explanation as though it were still inadequate reason to address him at all. She had a distinct feeling that Snape hated her. More than he did usual people.

"Never disturb a class of mine again, understand? The irritation was thinly veiled. Badly restrained, and he only suppressed it at all because Dumbledore had already cautioned him on being 'polite' to the Princesses charge. She figured it was about as polite as Snape could manage. It was a far cry from civility, but at least he had not used his wand on her.

Though she could swear she saw his fingers twitch...

"I understand..." She inclined her head in concord, saw him relax, then moved on, intent on a little revenge. "...that class was over as far as I could see."

Snape stilled and then his glare returned full force, intensifying even. Luna fought to hold it, torn between cringing and laughing.

"It's not over until I leave the room-"

Snape stopped there, comprehension dawning over his face, for a moment he looked faintly horrified then he glared at her once more. The look in his eyes could have cut glass.

His mouth thinned.

"Potter," he whispered.

She wanted to laugh then, so much so that her mouth actually curved, but she continued to fight it, reminding herself that she wanted directions more.

"Of course." Her simulated indifference did not sit well with Snape, so she abandoned it for more familiar disapproval. "You'd obviously tortured that poor boy enough. I don't see how anyone should have to suffer your company for an extended amount of time."

Snape looked murderous. He was fairly trembling with restrained anger, obviously it was not something he was accustomed to.

"There's nothing poor about Potter," he spat, "And the punishment I hand out to my students is always warranted."

Luna threw him a disdainful disbelief filled look that only a cat can truly manage. An admirable feat considering she was over five feet shorter than the dark man. He did not want either her not Usagi there, she already knew it to be so. Neither was he courteous in making his opinion to her apparent. She kept him away from her charge for that purpose alone. It would not take much to push Usagi's fragile spirit and send it careening into despair.

Snape's word would cut her to the core. As they did Luna...

"And as I recall, you were supposed to remain with your 'charge' were you not?"

Luna drew a silent breath, hoping to deter him from that subject as quickly as possible. he was already aware that Luna took her duties seriously, so much so that leaving Usagi for longer that a few moments was something she was loathe to do.

Attempting to mask her distress, Luna turned a glare of her own at Snape.

"She insisted I go out for a while... I think she wanted to be alone."

But Snape picked up immediately and the little cat was faintly horrified to see a smirk of grisly satisfaction cross his features.

"Your delightful company prove too much for her then?" he pressed. He looked almost gleeful.
The cat bristled at the remark, but chose to let the it slide - one for one. Severus had no idea how close to the truth he was. And if she gave him a reply, then he would know.

"I like the boy," she said instead, "Potter..?"

The sallow face twisted, all semblance of elegance dissolving as he spat, "The only likable thing about Harry Potter is his tendency to break his bones on the Quidditch field."

His eyes were like obsidian, hard, glazed over in cold black ice. Luna could very well believe that he was speaking about a mortal enemy, rather than a mere student.

"Stay away from him, cat," he continued, "He has a habit of poking his nose where it doesn't belong. The last thing we need is for him to get wind of your precious princess."

Luna ignored him, knowing it would possible anger him further, but not caring.

"As I was saying... I'm lost. And I imagine you could tell me where to go."

Snape continued to look bothered, though it seemed to Luna that it was more that they had broached the subject of the boy called Harry Potter, than her previous interruption of his class. It made her wonder; it made her curious. She was not curious often. Indeed Luna thought of it as prying.

She waited patiently as Snape gave her directions, all the while her mind half wondering about Harry Potter....

It was probably that reason that had caused her to see the green eyed youth follow her as quickly as he did. Luckily, Dumbledore had provided an excellent escape for her.

Until she discovered someone had taken Harry's place...

She had to rely on her own skills to lose her pursuer. It turned out it did not take much doing on her part, the pale youth was not nearly as adept at following as Harry had been. Perhaps he had not as much practice, she did not truly know. Nor did she overly care much. She lost him without too much effort. It allowed her to take a breather and a sigh in relief... Until she arrived in her charge's room.

Only to discover it empty...







** ** **






Draco cursed softly to himself, his eyes searching out the dim corridor with something akin to anger. He had never been one for patience, or hide and seek. But it seemed that was what he was being forced to play.

He was not overly fond of cats either.

So he had no desire to play hide and seek with a cat.

Though, in order to play, the cat would have wanted to be found eventually. Apparently, she did not have that wish. Draco had lost her long before, and he honestly had no idea where she could have gone. It was alarmingly easy to lose sight of the dark shadow, slipping and sidling along the corridors. And when she melded into the black so well, Draco could find no fault in himself for losing her.

It was her fault. Or Potter's....

Yes, Draco decided eventually; it was Potters fault.

He began to draw up mental punishments he could deliver to the Seeker. With no small amount of internal glee besides. Slytherin shared Potions with Griffindors a few days away, that would give him apt time to plan his revenge. If it was one thing he excelled at, then it was vengeance. Particularly on Harry Potter. Practice made perfect after all, and Draco had plenty of practice over the past six years.

Though it was not quite perfect as of yet.

He frowned, lips pressed as his eyes searched once more for the elusive feline, but it was obvious that she had long since disappeared. He had little hope of finding her in the vastness that was Hogwarts...

He should just give up an go back-

He stopped as his eyes caught a sudden dark movement as he passed an adjacent hallway, dimly lit by high windows. Drawing back he discovered it was not the missing cat though...

It was a cloaked figure in a cover of dark velvet that shimmered in the light... who seemed to be rather stuck. Draco tilted his head, regarding it, his interested perked. Then he moved into the hallway to get a better look.

The dark form was pulling ineffectually at something that seemed to be snagged in that statue of a gargoyle that leaned against the far wall. The gargoyle seemed to be winning. Curious, and having nothing better to do since he had lost the black cat, Draco strode closer.

On closer inspection, the figure, Draco decided, was definitely feminine. Long fingered slender hands, small and delicate, yanked at the cloak. She was obviously too weak to pull it free, and apparently, not very bright. Gargoyles could be 'persuaded' to move with nothing more that the revelation of a wand. Perhaps she had merely forgotten hers. That subsequently suggested absentmindedness to him.

And she was not the most alert either. She was still unaware to his presence. Draco hated being ignored - for what ever reason. Stepping more deliberately made no difference; she was too engrossed in her task to take any notice. Heaving an inward sigh in exasperation, he decided to call instead.

"Hey, you... Girl... What do you think you're doing?"

She stopped struggling for a moment as she flung her head back to fix him with a wide eyed look in something akin to alarm. The hood fell back as she did so, and Draco stared.

He was not one to base opinion on appearances - however people might think so - not usually, though there had been some exceptions to the rule. But he could not help but stare at the girl still tugging at the captured cloak somewhat absentmindedly.

Long fair hair, similar to his own in terms of color flowed well past her shoulders and disappeared into the confines of her cloak, it was iridescent in the pale sunlight, gleaming like finely spun gold. Her complexion was dark ivory, perfect, lips the color of a rose petal. They looked just as soft. When she had looked at him in alarm, her sapphire eyes had flashed, clearer than gemstones, catching the rays of illumination in the hall around them.

Her unnatural beauty was evident, even to him. The first thought that entered Draco's mind was ' exquisite' the second was ' Veela'. This was closely followed by 'beware'.

"I'm-" Another tug. "Stuck... This... this thing moved!"

She gestured vaguely to the large gargoyle that, for all intense purposes seemed to be sitting on the edges of her cloak and was looking vaguely satisfied. She was obviously expecting him not to believe her, for some reason. He shook his head in reprehension and fixed her with a mildly castigating look. She stilled at the rebuke, blinking dazedly at the chill in his eyes.

She made no mention of a wand, so he did not press her. Instead he withdrew his own and pointed it idly that the stone in warning - whereupon the cloak was miraculously released.

She blinked in surprise, emitting a soft "Oh!", as she stumbled back, reeling a little as she endeavored to maintain to keep her balance.

Draco stared as she dew herself up, tilting her head proudly. The effect was lost when she wobbled again, and had to lean against the wall to prevent herself from tripping.

"I was... exploring," she murmured eventually, straightening the dark cloak.

There was a mild snort from the youth and his gaze of silvered ice trailed over her figure somewhat derisively. Giving his head a slight shake, he met her gaze.

"You were lost," he scoffed lightly.

The glittering eyes flashed with fire as her gaze turned into sheepish indignation.

"I was not! I was... Well... You can't be lost if you don't know where you're going," she finished rather lamely.

An immaculate eyebrow rose at that. Draco stifled a snicker at her expression. She was not even a worthy opponent in a battle of wits... And if he was honest with himself, he really did not have any desire to battle with her - even with words. He did not know her, and even through her apparent anger, he could sense an air of hopelessness, of pain, and of sorrow.

Sometimes, they were things he could understand well.

But unable to help himself, he shot back a harsh retort. Old habits die hard.

"This school is too big for 'exploring'. Or did you want to wander about until someone found you tomorrow... Or next week?"

She looked taken aback at that. Obviously she did not. It looked also as though she had not even considered that consequence. Deeper still, Draco could almost see the sorrow heightening, the pain in her eyes seemed to redouble. It caught him by genuine surprise. His breath caught at it's intensity.

"No- I-"

"Then it's better you have a guide. Isn't it?"

The words were out before he could stop them. Draco mentally cursed himself for running his mouth off, yet again. He could see doubt form on her expression, along with grudging acquiesce.

"I guess," she said softly.

A mild snort was his only reply. Shaking his head in further annoyance, Draco turned to leave, steeling himself to turn away from the sight of the isolated figure, clutching the folds of her cloak in the hallway, twisting the cloth in her hands in agitation.

It was familiar to him.

"So... um..."

He halted, knowing what was coming next. Half aggravated that he had pushed her in that direction, half annoyed that she had picked up on it at all - if she was supposed to be as foolish as he had first made her out to be. He was also partially offended that she would dare ask 'him'... But there was also the tiny part of him that whispered that he would not mind in the least...

"What?"

Silence. He did not turn, though he did not walk away. He could imagine her hands wringing further torture into the velvet as she plucked up whatever courage she could find amid her growing despair.

"Would you?"

Her voice was so soft, it's hesitance spoke volumes to him. He knew the sapphire eyes were pleading gently, holding that elusive glimmer of hope. Hope an insubstantial thing, flickering like a lone candle in the wind. It was so easy to quench...

"What?"

The flame flickered uncertainly. The doubt was intensifying, he knew. It would be so easy for him. He had done it before.

But she persevered, nonetheless.

"Be my guide?"

He enjoyed quenching such hope. It gave him a sense of power. It made him feel as though he had control. Feeling the familiar thirst rise in him, he turned to fix her with a cool look.
He had been right, the cloak was further wrinkled by her frustrations.

He had never been anyone's guide...

Draco met her eyes, forcing himself to meet them. There was an instant when he savored the darkness in them, and he plunged onward mercilessly, walking and talking as he drew nearer.

".... You expect me to give up my spare time - my invaluable spare time - to show some simpleminded girl who obviously can't find her way round a broom closet, the layout of this abnormally large castle. A task which could take days to complete in its entirety..."

The flame died. She wilted. Then she drew back, her eyes darting in alarm, looking for an escape. Her face was screwed up in a prolonged wince, and she turned her head away, but not before Draco could see how much he had hurt her. Her arms moved and she hugged them tight around her chest, She looked as though she would cry, or scream or crumple into nothing at that moment.
She had never really expected him to say yes, it seemed. But she had hoped anyway.

He had never been asked to be anyone's guide...

Was it tears he could see shimmering in those sapphire depths, or just a trick of the light?

He did not know. Perhaps it was the concept of those tears - real or not - that spurred him on. Perhaps it was the sudden way she seemed to slump, his words had never before effected someone in such a manner... And he had not even insulted her; not really.

Perhaps it was a combination of those things that caused the brief sense of satisfaction to flee in shame...

It was probably her eyes.

Feigning nonchalance in his growing worry, he shrugged.

"Why not."

She stilled once more, Draco did not move beyond the shrug, but he watched her intently. He could see the flicker of doubt rise in her eyes, he saw the brief surge of hope in how her face cleared, before frowning again. The two emotions, hope and despair warred with each other even as she faced him again.

"Really?" her voice trembled, but held. It was low, and he had to strain to hear it. "You will?"

Unable to meet the sheer longing in her eyes, Draco turned away. He found it easier to speak when not faced with the tumult of emotions they held.

Her sudden hope at his words - his compliance - was ridiculous.

"You look miserable enough at it is. I didn't want to add to it, that's all. You'll scare people if you wander about with a face like that."

He heard her trembling sigh, and a quick glance showed the quiet joy shining in her eyes. She smiled and her face softened. It was almost tender, the way she looked at him.

"Thank you," she said.

Sheer gratitude.

Draco looked away.

"Whatever," he snapped.

He gritted his teeth, then went on.

"Look. Astronomy tower, tonight, midnight. There's no class, so it's safe enough."

She nodded, though she looked as though she was wondering why anyone would have classes there in the middle of the night. It made him wonder as well.

There was silence between them after that. Draco was tempted to leave her, to take back his offer. But every time he stole a glance at her, the same sense of gratefulness stopped him before he could.

It was ridiculous, he decided. To be thwarted by such a trivial thing.

It was her who broke the stillness eventually. Her voice sounded faintly regretful, it caused him to throw her a look once more.

She did look sorry.

"I... um... I have to go..." Her eyes darted beyond him. "My... um... cat is here..."

He felt his eyebrows lift in skepticism. It colored his voice as he said, "Your... cat...."

She nodded.

"Right," he said, "I see."

He did not.

It was then that a small black form moved past him and sure enough, a little black cat padded up to the pale girl. There was a familiar crescent moon on the cat's forehead.

Draco did a double take and regarded the little black cat in mild disbelief. He raised his blinking gaze to the strange girl who was giving him a odd look in return as she watched him.

The silver eyes moved from her to the cat, then back again.

Finally...

"So she's yours then?"

She looked surprised. She stooped low and gathered to animal into her arms. The cat seemed to be throwing his a dark look. The girl did not notice, and Draco ignored it.

"You know her?" she asked softly.

Another shrug. The cat's look intensified leaving Draco bewildered at it.

"I've seen her about. Yeah."

The feline 'Meowed' loudly, drawing the girls attention to her at last. She exchanged an obscure look with the cat, and then sighed. She looked at Draco.

"Well... I guess I'll see you later."

The cat - he noted - looked faintly alarmed.

Another intangible quirk of his lips. He had to catch the sudden laughter that bubbled up at the fierce glare the little cat was giving him.

Served her right... Little minx.

He nodded and gave a mocking bow to the small companion cradled in the girls arms at their departure.

"Of course."

It was after that, he cursed his decision once again. He did not ever know what house she belonged to. For all he was aware of, she could very well be Gryffindor... Born of Muggle blood and a poor magic user. It could be a disgrace to be seen with her.

But it would be night, and there would be none around to see.

And he could not shake the strange feeling her joy had aroused in him. He had rarely see strangers so happy at a simple agreement from someone they did not know. Even more infrequent was happiness from someone he 'did' know... She had been happy - because he had agreed to be her guide.

He had made her happy.

It made him feel powerful, so like when he used cruelty to get a reaction - an emotion. The sight imparted on Draco, a sense of dominion. It gave him a hold.

But it was different too...

He found he liked it. He found himself desiring more.






** ** **






There was pain in his head such as he had never felt it before, in the splinters of time that made up his awareness. It ran like branded lightening through his scar; Voldemort- but worse. Between the pain he was wracked by nightmares more real than life, more violent, more horrible. Better the pain than the nightmares. He cried out; shrieked, sweated, burned, then sank back into the ocean of pain.

All he could smell was red iron. Red behind his eyes. Blind-red.

There was shouting and crashing. His fingers caught a thick stickiness, skinned like boiled milk, and brought it to his nose.

Blood.

He lay in a puddle of congealed blood.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose, as though someone stood looking down at him. Eyes, slitted like a cat burned through the darkness. Laughing. Chilly fingers touched his throat. Gathering the dregs of his strength, he screamed out his agony and his terror.
A long time later he bobbed to the surface again, sensing movement in his dorm.

Shrieking, sweating, burning. Lips aflame, gullet searing. Choking, retching, gasping. Darkness darker than dark.

Harry awoke shivering.

The cold darkness of night seeped in through window and he turned on his stomach, trying to open his eyes fully and failing. It was humid in the room, and he could feel the thick blankets of the bed twirled about his ankles, where he had probably kicked them off during the night.

He had tried to ignore them as best as he could. Since they were not the usual affair for him when it came to strange dreams. He had not been sleeping well because of them.

More than likely it was just anxiety, he told himself. Trying to cope with all the schoolwork and being captain of the Gryffindor team was a responsibility in itself. Or a thousand other excuses that he ran over in his head when he was awake. It was so much easier to forget them, to cast their effects aside when it was light. Nightmares like his, seemed out of place in the waking hours.

On another bed across the room, a figure sighed, turning on the bed before settling back down to sleep. Harry sat up, brushing the hair back from his face with an unsteady hand, and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. Pushing himself up against the headboard, he glanced at the restless sleeper across the room.

It would take nothing short of a Howler to wake Ron at night, he knew. He wondered if he had actually screamed aloud, or had it all merely been in his mind. It seemed probable that he had not. No one stirred around him. For some reason this disconcerted Harry.

It would have felt right had he shouted his agony into the night air. The dreams were so real to him. He could reach out and touch their tangibility.

He hated them.

He also found it difficult to sleep after them. Such was the last one's intensity that Harry had no doubt he would not find sleep again that night. Reigning in a sigh, he slipped out of the bed, discarding his pajamas and donning his clothes as he went.

Fresh air was the best thing he could hope for. Perhaps it would help clear his thoughts though he doubted it. He caught his invisibility cloak in his hands, rolling it up neatly.

He would wear it if needed.

He left the Marauders map behind him. Harry did not think it would be necessary.

The common room was empty, of course, and Harry had no trouble slipping out silently. The Fat Lady was also absent in her portrait and he idly hoped she would be back before dawn.

She usually was. Though he sometimes wondered where she wandered off to...

He was so busy eyeing the empty portrait that when his legs tangled on the soft object behind him, he fell heavily, stifling the cry as he went.

There was a similar soft 'yowl' that accompanied his exclamation.

He picked himself up carefully, searching for the source of the cry and cursing his lack of vigilance. It was foolish of him.

The slender form made his heart stop. Small, feline, with bright eyes...

Harry winced.

Mrs. Norris.

But the dark form did not scatter or call for her owner. Instead she moved into the moonlight, giving Harry a closer look.

A crescent moon winked in the faint luminescence.

He stared, disbelieving for an instant.

"You..." he whispered, staring at the cat, who stared right back.
She seemed to draw herself up, and her eyes never wavered. She blinked and turned, deliberately, then watched him from over her shoulder before setting off in the opposite direction. Her steps were slow, and she continued to watch him.

It was an invitation if Harry had ever seen one.

He could hardly refuse. He had spent an afternoon wondering about her. What she was, and who she belonged to - if anyone. His curiosity was perked, and though Hermione often cautioned him against it, he nearly always followed when it was roused. He nodded and the cat turned to look straight ahead, lengthening her pace, knowing he would follow. And he did, dreams forgotten. But it was only because she was obviously traveling at a pace he could maintain, and staying within sight.

She led Harry onwards, moving ahead with an uncanny sense surety, with the arrogance of a cat. Slipping along corridors, past stairwells and passages as though she knew the castle by heart. She even stopped occasionally to allow him to catch up.

Then they were outside in the cold night air, the gentle breezes that stung with the ice of upcoming Winter.
Chimneys, walls, eaves.... Harry and his companion ducked and wove among them all. Her footfalls silent and her eyes peered into the darkness and shadows of the moonlight.
Another bright night. The moon would be full in a few days at most.
Padding as silent as she, he followed her.
She brought him to the edge of the roof, and he looked down on a stony sea of walls and towers. The bright moonlight turned it all into a maze of light and darkness, but the darkness Harry knew well. He knew it was not impenetrable, it was, rather, merely obscure. He recognized each tower and stairwell, and knew where each one led.

He had also figured out where she was leading him. It had not taken him too long, though she took him in the most roundabout route imaginable. Bypassing all the shortcuts he was aware of.

Perhaps she did not know that school as well as he had thought... But then, they had not encountered one souls on their travels. Not even an errant ghost.

So perhaps she did.

A sudden shriek disturbed the silence of the night and Harry started in alarm. The noise was followed by a strange hissing. He froze, saw the cat do the same, the taunt pose marking tension. Their eyes lifted into the night sky, searching.
Then over their head, it sailed like a phantom, flitting across the twilight, gliding on silent wings. It dipped once, drawing near him in silent acknowledgment, before rising again into the night sky.

Harry relaxed, as he did so, the black cat followed his example.

An Owl. Just an owl...

Then he frowned as he watched the ghostlike bird fading into the high turrets that towered over them both. The band on it's leg holding it's message... He knew that that color from somewhere. He also noted that it disappeared into the area that held Professor Dumbledore's living quarters...

A movement ahead startled him out of his thoughts, and Harry was forced to move once more in order to keep up with the silent shadow that padded along ahead.

He followed, though he no longer needed to. He could not help but wonder why the feline was leading him to the Astronomy Tower in the dead of night....










TO BE CONTINUED...



Chapter 5: Venenum Angeli



Luna is leading Harry to the Astronomy Tower for a purpose... Usagi is also heading there, but for an entirely different reason...


Translations:

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus - (Latin) Never tickle a sleeping dragon. (This is the Hogwarts motto... I couldn't resist it as a title... ^__^;; )

Opening piece - William Shakespeare's 'King Lear, Act 2, scene IV' Yeah, I'm a Shakespeare fan... I can't help it. I studied a lot of his stuff in school, though Hamlet remains my all time favorite.



Again, I must say I'm sorry about the quality of this chapter... I was off at the time, and I have no time with which to rewrite it. *Bows*

I'm kinda busy at the moment... But I'm already working on the next part. ^_^

*Sigh* Also... Inspiration for this comes from TLOTR soundtrack... *Sighs again* Loved the book... love the film... adore the music. Lol!

Can't help it.

On a more somber note... I'm getting more worried about the quality of my writing in this fic... I'm not sure if it's worth continuing or not. For what it's worth, I hope you liked this chapter.



*Sigh*

Review, or not... as you will.

*Huggles and Chocolate frogs*

Orin.