Disclaimer: I own no one except the old man.

The first week of October meant a lot to everyone. To some, it meant the start of a whole new month, filled with brand new opportunities. To some , (mostly those like Hermione) it meant less study time than before for O.W.L preparation. To Harry and Ron (as well as many other boys in the third year and up) it meant the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year.

"Excellent!" Ron cheered when they'd gotten the news from McGonagall. "I've been hearing lately that Honeydukes has a whole new line of brand name sweets!" Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Ron's excitement. Hermione, however, wanted to make use of the extra study time and had decided to stay back.

Until breakfast that morning.

When the owls began to flutter in, Harry saw his Hedwig for the first time in over a month. He knew at once she must be carrying Sirius's long awaited reply. Indeed, she dropped a rolled up piece of parchment in front of Harry's breakfast.

He was just about to unroll it when Hermione said, "No. We'll open it in the Three Broomsticks. We'll have more privacy to talk there."

Ron grinned. "So I guess this means you're coming with us, then?"

"Yes, yes, of course," was her immediate reply, but she quickly regained her usual bossy tone. "But only because I want to see what Sirius has to say about this whole thing."

She wasn't the only one.

"Can we go already?" Harry asked for what seemed to be the millionth time that hour.

The three were standing in Honeydukes, a sweetshop in the middle of the only all-magic village Hogsmeade, and the place was jam-packed. Ron had been staring at the new line of sweets, and they had been standing in the same line (waiting for Ron's things to be finished ringing up) for quite some time now.

"Yes, really, Ron," Hermione said with an impatient glance at her watch. "We should be going if we want to get a good look at that letter."

"Fine, fine, fine," Ron said, gathering the last of his bags. "I'm coming already, we can go now."

The three walked out into the fairly chilly weather toward the Three Broomsticks, a kind of pub that did not just serve alcoholic drinks. Their specialty was butterbeer, a kind of warming, fizzy drink. But all three knew that they had not come there for drinks today.

The friends were led to a table by the beautiful Madame Rosmerta. As soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione said, "Open the letter, Harry."

She didn't need to tell him. Harry read the letter aloud to his friends in a quiet voice. It read:

Dear Harry,

It's good to hear from you again. However, by the time you get this reply, you are probably going to be a good way into school.

I have been thinking about this dream you had, and it strikes me as quite odd. I don't find anything too morbid or even ominous about it, but it certainly does feel out of place. The message the old man gave you to be open and not to expect must mean something or the other.

I'm trying to figure things out a little more over here, but the most I can tell you is to keep your eyes and ears open. Write to me if you find anything odd. I will get back to you as soon as possible.

Sirius

"I knew it!" Ron cried triumphantly. "I knew that part must've meant something!"

"Just because Sirius says so doesn't mean it's right," said Hermione. "I personally have a hunch about the whole dream."

"Yeah, me too.." Harry said absently.

"So, then what do we do?" asked Ron.

"Well, since it's just a dream," Hermione said, "and Sirius doesn't see any immediate danger, I think we just keep a lookout. If Sirius isn't worrying I don't see any reason why we should." She took a pause. "Oh!" she said. "There's something else." Her face had been kept completely straight but there was a smile in her eyes.

"What?" Ron asked immediately.

"You have to promise not to kill me first." Now the grin was on her lips, but there was slight worry in her voice.

"I promise okay? Just tell me."

Hermione looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Well, all right. Colin Creevey and Ginny are a couple!" She couldn't help but let her teenage girl side take over for a minute and let a giggle escape.

"What?!" Ron's jaw dropped. "NO!"

"You're kidding," Harry said. Colin Creevey was a Muggle born, a year younger than Harry, and had always been slightly.obsessive about the whole "Boy Who Lived" bit. It would certainly be nice to have him preoccupied for a while.

"No, I'm not!" she said.

"How do you know?" Ron said, trying not to let his anger get the best of him.

"Well," she began and giggled again, "I was coming back fairly late from a study session at the library, and when I walked into the Common Room, Ginny and Colin were holding hands! And he kissed her goodnight! And.."

"What?!" Ron said again. He clenched his fists.

"Ron, you promised not to kill me," Hermione reminded him.

Ron was oblivious to her voice. "He did what to my sister? WHAT?"

"Ron," Hermione started slowly, knowing about Ron's overprotective tendencies when it came to Ginny. "Ron, he really didn't do anything to her. He just kissed her goodnight. And honestly, they look so cute together!"

"You're taking his side?" Ron was nearly yelling now.

"Nooo.," she said, "but I do think that."



"I can't believe you're doing this!" he yelled. "No way!"

"You promised not to be mad!" Hermione had given up on patience and was starting to match Ron's tone.

Ron realized this and sat back down. He was, however, still brooding, until Harry decided to do something.

"Zonko's, anyone?" He asked timidly. "Before it gets too late, I mean."

Hermione raised her eyes hopefully at Ron. He nodded, eyes narrowed straight in front, and they left.

They walked out into the cold once more, Ron muttering to himself with Hermione staring at the ground. She seemed a little quiet after the episode inside, and had pretty much given up talking altogether.

Harry, on the other hand, was thinking to himself. Ron and Hermione had definitely begun to act strange this year. They were bickering far more than usual, and sometimes over the pettiest things (such as what breakfast cereal Ron eats). And then there were the times that Ron blushed when Hermione was brought up, or how Hermione had touched his shoulder and not let go on the train. Harry knew he had asked Ron, but he was wondering if he should still believe him or-

Something drew Harry from his reverie. The trio had bumped right into an old man (a result of watching the floor when walking through town). The man was a good several inches taller than even Ron, and was very, very thin. He was pretty much bald on top, except for a few patches of white snowy hair. He wore what seemed to be a Muggle suit, and all of a sudden Harry's eyes grew very wide. He had seen this man before.

It was the man from his dream.

"Well, hello there," the man said politely.

"Sorry sir," Harry and Hermione muttered together.

"It's all right, Mr. Potter. Ms. Granger," he said as though he was one of their professors.

Ron's mouth hung in a perfect "o". How did he know their names?

"And Mr. Weasley, of course!" the man said. "How could I forget?"

The three would normally have walked away, but the situation seemed to be quite nerve-racking, and held them in their places.

"Well, Harry," he said with a meaningful glance at him, "I have a present for the three of you, but I'm going to hand it to you. Is that all right?"

He nodded.

The man pulled out a single, manilla envelope. On the cover were Harry's, Hermione's, and Ron's name written out in black cursive. "Now, remember to be open. And never, ever expect anything." The man winked at the three, and Apparated right there.

The three turned to face each other. They were all wide eyed, but they knew that this was the man from Harry's dream, and things had suddenly gotten very strange.

The three sat in the Common Room late that night. Harry still had the envelope in front of him, as none of them were sure whether to open it or not. They were talking about what to do for the moment, but none of them had much of an idea.

"Harry," Hermione said, "you promised you would tell Dumbledore if anything more happened."

"Look, Hermione, no way!" he protested. "I'll write to Sirius, but please. If Dumbledore finds out, the whole school will know. Then everything will be just like last year. Do you want that?"

Hermione furrowed her brow. She hadn't thought of that. "No, I don't, but still."

"Look, I will tell him if whatever's inside is anything serious."

"It could be a hex, though," Ron said thoughtfully.

"He's right," Hermione muttered. "But there's only one way to find out." She picked up the envelope, surprised at its slightly heavy weight. She tore open the envelope, and out fell a little sliver key.

"That's no hex!" Harry said, relieved.

"Yes, but it could be hexed." Hermione said softly. She turned the key round and about, examining every last inch of it, until finally she said, "Nothing to worry about. It's just a key."

"How do you know?" Ron asked suspiciously. He checked the room in case Colin walked in. Ron, despite Hermione's an Harry's pleas for peace, had still vowed to do some harm to Colin.

"Oh!" Hermione said with a smile. "About two years ago, my father bought a lock and key from a magic shop. See, he wanted a lock and key kind of bewitched thing, so no one else could pick the lock. Only, instead of going to Diagon Alley, he wound up in Knockturn Alley. The key turned out to have a hex on it, and we had to call over this wizard keysmith. But anyway, this man told me how to spot out a hexed key. If it's gold, it'll have a spot of silver somewhere on it, and vice versa for silver keys. I knew that it would come in handy sometime." She grinned.

"Okay, so we have a key," Harry said. "Just a plain old key, with nothing really special about it. But it apparently means something. What?"

"I expect it should fit some kind of a lock, and judging by the look of the key, it's going to be a pretty old lock."

"So we just find the lock that the key'll fit into," Ron said. "It can't be that hard."

"Yes, but this is a Muggle key," Hermione continued. "And the old kinds are very different from the new ones. They were categorized into different types. So we'll have to look up a book on old Muggle keys. There'll definitely be something in the library."

"Restricted Section?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," Hermione said. "Lock studies are only done by seventh years in Muggle Studies class."

"How do we get in, though?" Harry mused. "None of us even take Muggle Studies."

"Why didn't you stick with it?" Ron said, looking at Hermione.

Hermione glared. "We'll have to sneak in using the cloak at night." She looked to Harry. "When?"

"Wednesday night," said Ron.

"Fine, then Wednesday it is."

"And I suppose I should write to Sirius in the meanwhile?" Harry said, glancing at Hermione.

"At once," came her serious reply.

They bid one another goodnight, and as Harry walked up the stairs, Harry could sense that this year was going to be another long one. Okay, everybody cheer! The plot is here! Well, this is only part of it, really, and wait till you see what I've got in store! I am sooo excited, and I really want to hear what everyone has to say about this!!!!!!!!