A/N: I'm in a generous mood! Of course, you may not thank me much when you reach the end. Chpt. 8 is underway! I just couldn't wait to put up this chpt. because it is one of my favorites so far and as I am afflicted with chronic impatience, I couldn't wait to see what people think of it.

I don't own Harry Potter, JKR does; I don't own Lord of the Rings, the Tolkien Estate does. Happy? Please no sue, me no do anyting wrong, no, really!

Read on, Macduff, and damned be him that first cries Where's my Legolas!?!
--------------

Chapter Seven: Ring Around the Rosie

--------------
Ring around the rosie,
Pockets full of of posies;
Ashes, ashes,
All fall down!
--------------

Oh... I don't know, it's just not making sense any more... I thought I had it that first night...

Hermione was pacing the hearth rug in the Gryffindor common room. Christmas holidays had passed; Professor Lupin had recovered from the blue moon on December 30 and was back to teaching classes. Ron had been let out of the hospital wing on the 29th, his nose buried in Fellowship all the while. Dumbledore had been right, Ron was taking forever to read the books, and was only now reaching the halfway mark in The Two Towers. Meanwhile, Snape had been more vindictive than he'd ever been in the last year, possibly because of the fact that the shadow hadn't managed to kill any Gryffindors; and Hermione had been fretting and moaning and scouring her brains out over Dumbledore's essay and the idea of getting into Middle-earth. While the N.E.W.T.s had returned full force, she had dropped off somewhat in her regular school studies (the key word being somewhat. Ron claimed he couldn't see a difference).

This night, however, she was in the unusual circumstance of having gotten all her homework done during the afternoon. Now she had an entire free night, and was spending it in her usual ritual of fretting and scouring. Several bits of parchment covered with sums and scratchy writing were on the table at which Ron and Harry sat doing their Divination homework, but writing them seemed to have been of no avail to Hermione, who suddenly came over, snatched them up, and threw them on the fire.

She resumed her pacing, muttering to herself.

said Ron, exasperated. Give it a rest! Wearing a trench in the floor isn't going to help! I'll die of poisoning next week, okay?

Harry asked whether it should be Snape or a homicidal first year this time. Ron decided on having an owl bring the poison from a mysterious figure outside the school and drop it in his orange juice during breakfast. Harry grinned and scratched away with his quill. Professor Trelawny had gotten them making prediction charts again, to show the first years how real prediction charts should be done, and she fawned over Harry and Ron as her favorite students. Harry and Ron were absolutely appalled by it, and were quite vocal about their opinion of Trelawny, but Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had chosen to conveniently not notice this, and were always unpredictably angry or sulky when they laid eyes on either of the two boys. Right now they were experimenting with the Professor, trying to see how ridiculous they could get before Trelawny noticed that some of these things just were not possible.

Hermione's pacing was interrupted by a knock at the portrait hole and a disgruntled protest from the Fat Lady. Her bushy hair flying every which way as she tried to redo her ponytail, Hermione went over and swung open the portrait to admit Eloise Midgen. They came over to the table, where Hermione promptly resumed her pacing and Eloise took a seat by Ron. The Fat Lady closed of her own accord.

Harry rolled his eyes as Ron and Eloise snuck a light kiss. They were hopelessly starstruck, much as they denied it.

Eloise was of medium height (which made her almost half a head shorter than Ron, who refused to stop growing upwards), with eyes of no particular color, though if they must have a name, you might call them a muddled hazel. Her hair was shoulder-length, thin, dry, and stick-straight, of a reddish-brown hue. She did her best to look all right, though, with her hair in a sleek French braid and her nails painted to match it. She wore glasses, but they suited her face, and Harry thought she'd look really odd without them anyway. Black did not become her, unfortunately, but once classes were over every day she immediately went to her Hufflepuff dorm and changed into light beige robes. She wasn't really very vain, but finally losing her acne and gaining a boyfriend had made her a little more self-conscious. She certainly did not lack a sense of humor, though she'd never be called a Marauder. Harry thought she was quite pleasant, and had congratulated Ron on the find. Now if he, Harry, could just build up the nerve to ask Cho...

So, is Professor Trelawny going to kick you out yet?

Harry asked. He had been looking into space, thinking about Cho, and hadn't heard Eloise's question. She repeated it.

I dunno. Maybe we should try writing a prediction chart where nothing terrible happens to us for a whole month. That'd probably put us out the door in under two minutes.

Eloise grinned. You really shouldn't fake your homework, you know... she said half-heartedly.

What's the fun in that? asked Ron indignantly. Anyway, this is Trelawny we're talking about. The one Dumbledore says has only ever made two real predictions in her life. What does she know?

Eloise sighed and rolled her eyes. Okay, then. I've shirked my share of homework, anyway. What's up with Hermione? This last was in a low voice, spoken for Ron and Harry's ears only.

She's still trying to solve the mysteries of the universe, Harry said vaguely, looking over his and Ron's charts.

Eloise had been informed, albeit inadvertently, by Ron, of their ring problem. As it turned out she'd been a big fan of Lord of the Rings ever since she was a little girl, having lived with her Muggle father during summer breaks (her parents were divorced, and child custody had gone straight to her witch mother; but her father still kept her in the summer). Her father wasn't whimsical, per se, but did tend to spoil Eloise to death (something harshly remedied the instant winter rolled in, by her strict mother) -- and when Eloise had begged for the books, he complied easily. Her copies were well-worn and she had brought them to Hogwarts with her without a second thought. That sort of family story , which was a pretty common one around the school (the half-blood childrens' custody arrangements, anyway), made Harry wonder how many of the students had actually already read Lord of the Rings. As a matter of fact, it made him surprised that Hermione hadn't heard of them before.

Ron had let slip some comments one night, almost a week ago, about Lupin's brief hospitalization, and that it had some connection with the shadow that had passed the day before. Of course, this eventually led to a heated discussion in which Harry and Hermione tried in vain to patch up Ron's mistake. Finally Harry gave in and told Eloise the whole thing. She might as well know, he thought; she was a part of their group now, after all.


She hasn't come up with anything yet? Eloise asked with a hint of concern. Look, Harry, there's no telling what could happen if we don't get rid of that ring -- you read the books -- I mean, even if no one ever sees it or even gets near it, the influence is still there. It could be spreading and we don't even know it.

I know that already, Harry snapped. I've already been there, all right? We know what we don't want to happen, we just don't know how to stop it. If Hermione and Dumbledore can't figure it out, we're screwed, but before then, give me a break.

They sat in silence for a while, listening absently to the common room noises. The fire crackled loudly, snapping on a couple of fireworks tossed in it by the UberFreds and UberGeorges, as they were not-so-fondly called, school-wide, by the prefects: a bunch of third years who had been causing mischief from day one. Blue stars shot out and spanged off the walls, causing rampant mayhem that seemed oddly to break around Harry, Ron, and Eloise's table, like the ocean on a rock.

Hermione was jostled around by the fire until her last nerve wore through and she raged over to the table where the others sat, and yanked up a chair by Harry, looking completely miffed.

I give up! she cried, banging her hand on the table. I just don't see any way --

Ron said finally, worn to within an inch of his last nerve with annoyance. Parallel universes, right? Parallel?

With a void between them, Hermione said, weary of explaining her theories. Two currents go through the void, I think, but--!

Whatever! Parallel. Like two cliff faces, right?

And the void.

Ron ignored that. So if you're on one side of a gorge and you want to get on the other side, what do you do?

Well, that's just it! Hermione snapped. I've been trying to find, build, something like a -- a -- some kind of broom, or something, that could fly us across, but --

A BRIDGE! Ron fairly bellowed. A lot of the common room, including a couple of UberFreds, had either settled down or frozen mid-rampage, and they were now watching Ron with some interest. A bridge, you idiot! What the bloody hell do you build if you want across a void, or whatever? Pull out the Great Magical Four-By-Six, toss it down, across you go! OY!

Hermione sat stock-still, fretting, scouring, and resultant bad mood all forgotten, and gaped open-mouthed at Ron.

That -- that -- that could --

That could work? Harry offered dryly.

Harry, I'll go insane and strangle a friend close to me tomorrow, Ron growled, with a pointed glare at Hermione. You can take out the black eye and broken leg and put it for yourself Thursday after next.

Harry nodded, trying to hide a small grin that really wasn't appropriate for the moment, and scribbled on a new sheet of parchment.

Trelawny's going to have a mystical fit when she sees this, he said, trying to keep his voice from quivering with withheld laughter. He spared a glance up from the homework and caught sight of Eloise biting her lower lip to keep from giggling.

You've got an audience, if you haven't noticed, Eloise murmured to Ron and Hermione, then turned her mouth into her cupped hand, closed her eyes, and tried very hard to stop herself from bursting out laughing.

Ron and Hermione glanced around at half the common room staring them in the face, and reacted in their own ways: Ron's ears went very red and he tried to slink down behind Eloise (which didn't work very well, because of his height); and Hermione, though she did turn an interesting shade of pink, gave a practiced haughty glare to those standing or sitting nearest her.

When their crowd had dispersed, Hermione picked up a new sheet of parchment and instantly began writing with lightning speed. Ron and Harry shook their heads and went half-heartedly back to their Divination work, listening to Eloise's random comments on how they could make some prediction or another even more improbable.

---------

Have you ever thought, muttered Eloise sleepily, much later that night, in the common room, how much Dumbledore is like Gandalf?

Harry didn't respond immediately. His eyes were practically sticking themselves shut and he could barely think, he was so tired. Ron was already snoring, his head on Eloise's shoulder, and Hermione had wandered up the girls' staircase to her dorm quite a while ago, muttering that it might be quieter up there. By now three-quarters the Gryffindors were asleep anyway, and the common room was almost empty.

Eventually, Eloise's question got through Harry's slow ears and into his even slower brain, and after some thought he nodded.

I mean, Eloise continued, with that groggy kind of wisdom that sometimes one is only enlightened with when one is half-asleep, I mean... they're just both so wise. And old. And...

Harry murmured. Really powerful wizards?

Yeah... and the only people the great enemies are afraid of... you know Gandalf came to Middle-earth to help defeat Sauron... that was his point in being there... I wonder if Dumbledore was sent to be here?

Harry gave a mild shrug and shook his head slowly. He's just a wizard. He's not... otherworldly, if that... well.... He stopped, frowned, and thought about it. No... never mind... yes he is. Otherworldly, I mean. Isn't he? Maybe... I don't know...

Who'd everyone else be, if Dumbledore's Gandalf? Eloise mused, dropping her head onto Ron's and snuggling closer to the redhead, who twitched and muttered something incoherent. You'd be... Frodo... I suppose.

Harry shrugged again. Ron could be Sam, and you and Hermione could be Merry and Pippin. He grinned. Now, that's a weird thought. Wonder what Ron would look like potbellied and three feet tall, with big hairy feet?

Eloise snorted. Same could go for you, she muttered. Harry's grin vanished.

What about... what about Professor Lupin? Or... Professor Snape? Eloise's voice was becoming fainter and fainter. Malfoy... Hagrid?

I'd think... I'd think maybe Snape could be Gollum, Harry said, somewhat slurred. Or Saruman. Or... or... and Voldemort could be Sauron. Nah, Sauron's way more powerful. ...Voldemort could be the Mouth of Sauron, you know, the guy in black that's at the Morannon at the end... or... and you know, Sirius is sort of like Aragorn, only... only he's already gotten out of exile... and his exile wasn't self-imposed and all that... and he's certainly... certainly not a kiiiaaawhn. Harry interrupted himself with a large yawn.

he repeated distantly, but before he could go on, he dropped off into slumber.

-----------

Miss Granger... I believe this may be the answer.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled unfathomably as he stood before Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Eloise, who had approached him after dinner a week later, in the Great Hall, so Hermione could show him her completed charts and bridge plans. (It didn't look much like any bridge Harry had ever seen, he thought skeptically. It looked a lot more like Dumbledore's drawing of a 4-D line.)

I also believe, the Headmaster added with a bright smile, that you are relieved of the requirement of a graduate essay in both Charms and Transfiguration. If there were still a Magical Theory course, you would have passed it with well over two hundred percent, I dare say.

Harry had to kick Ron to keep him from protesting. Hermione got let out of two of their N.E.W.T.s?

Hermione, on the other hand, was beaming despite herself: she had gone extremely red in the face, and a faint shimmer of sweat was on her forehead, because she was so hot with embarrassment.

Well -- really -- Ron gave me the idea...

I thank you, then, as well, Mr. Weasley, said Dumbledore, solemnly shaking Ron's hand. Ron's ears went pink.

Miss Granger, I shall share this with the other staff and we will proceed accordingly. I'll be absolutely sure that you are updated on all our doings, and please -- don't feel that you need give this up entirely, even though it has been taken into other hands. Your help is very valuable to myself and all the staff members. You've proved yourselves more than often enough, and with your high standings in both academic learning and practical experience, you may be called on at any time.

Harry nodded, and glanced at the others: Hermione was still quite pink, wiping her face with her sleeve, and Ron was looking as though he might need a bit of translation. Eloise had not been on speaking terms with the Headmaster for as long as Harry and the others had, though, and she hung in the back, looking a trifle nervous.

Thank you again, said Dumbledore, smiling and bidding them farewell and good classes the next day. He took his leave towards the entrance hall, presumably to call a meeting in the staff room.

The four of them started heading back towards Gryffindor tower. Eloise had relaxed considerably.

What now, did he say? Ron asked, wrinkling his nose and furrowing his brows in confusion.

Oh, honestly, Ron, said Hermione, thought she didn't truly look vexed. He said he'd keep us in the loop because we're smart and we know how to defend ourselves.

said Ron, his face clearing. I was just messed up by practical experience.' When my Mum says practical experience,' it usually means washing the dishes without magic. He winced.

Harry laughed. No, I think he was more along the lines of stuff like facing Voldemort about seventeen times and surviving it. Or living two months with dementors.

Don't talk about that, Eloise snapped suddenly.

Harry blinked and gave her a look, but she kept her face set in a hardened expression, and edged closer to Ron, who offered her his arm. She put hers through it, and thusly they scrambled through the portrait hole. Harry wasn't sure how they managed it side-by-side, but they did.

Well, we're all set, I suppose, said Harry, almost disappointed. Dumbledore's got it under control... we'll maybe hear something, but then everyone else'll take care of it, and that'll be that. He flopped into a chair, feeling strangely dejected despite Dumbledore's praise.

What're you talking about, Harry? Ron asked, puzzled. Hermione's face had fallen oddly devoid of expression.

Well, it's just, after Voldemort died everything got so boring. Just tests, tests, and more tests, and the usual lull of school. Harry was trying to find the right words to phrase his thoughts. This seemed -- well, interesting, for once.

Eloise repeated. She looked appalled. Interesting? Great, Harry, you're saying that finding out the your father's best friend, practically your uncle, tried to kill himself when he was sixteen, and it's just interesting? Or that Frodo Baggins went through hell, and a thousand times worse than hell, for absolutely nothing, because he never did really manage to destroy the Ring, and that's only interesting, nothing more? Eloise looked almost ready to slap him if he said the wrong thing in reply.

Harry flattened himself into his chair, shrinking away from her unconsciously. Hermione still looked blank.

Look -- okay, I think I got the wrong word. Okay, Eloise? I didn't mean it! Harry dug around again for something appropriate. Not interesting... er... eventful? I don't really know what to call it, but it was just something new. It wasn't Voldemort, and it wasn't the Dark Arts, really, but it was big and powerful, and I just thought, you know, maybe I could do something useful again. Help someone else. You know how really great it feels to help someone? I just thought this would be another chance at that. Besides, he added, it would just be really cool to be able to see Middle-earth in real life.

Eloise had to concede to that last bit, and even allowed herself a small smile.

I agree.

Harry looked sharply at Hermione, who was showing a hint of life, finally.

What was that?

I agree with you, Harry. I don't like this being cooped up. I never thought I'd say it, but I'm sick of books, and I'm especially sick of tests. Besides, the bridge-spell is my theory, and I think I should get to test it. She was looking grim and determined. Harry stared.

Er -- okay, then.

Herm, what's up with you? Ron looked oddly at her. Is it your time of the month, or something? You're in a mood.

No, Ron, she snapped. No mood. I'm going to bed, I'll talk tomorrow. With that, she got up and swept up the girls' staircase.

Um... okay, Ron said, on the verge of making a sarcastic remark; but Harry broke in.

Eloise -- you remember what you said about the ring influencing everyone without us knowing? She nodded. Well... I think you were right.

Eloise had gone an odd off-white.

Ron shook his head. Well, just as long as we don't end up with a castle full of Gollums. I don't trust that little bugger. Frodo's kind of thick, if you ask me, letting him take them through these marshes and all. He dies at the end, right? Ron looked suspiciously at Harry.

I'm not telling! exclaimed Harry. And ruin the effect of reading it for the first time?

Ron sighed exasperatedly.

Well, I think Hermione's got one thing right, Eloise said suddenly, hopping up. We all ought to go to bed. If she's going to be up to something tomorrow, we should be prepared.

Yeah, all right, Harry said vaguely. There was feeling he had just now... he couldn't shake it... she was right, he knew; he should get some rest, but he had a strange, intuitive notion that he might need to be prepared sooner than tomorrow.

------------

Harry dozed off uneasily that night. Dean had left the window cracked open a bit, as the house-elves had been a little overzealous with the Heating Charms again, and the towers were all like furnaces; but now the room had cooled off, and having the window open just made it ever more like a freezer. Harry found himself getting up around eleven o'clock to shut it. He didn't notice something odd outside.

The world was darkling.

It wasn't the shadow of night, or the coming of a storm: it was simply growing darker, and darker. The Forbidden Forest, which had always been hard to see, was now nothing more than a great smudge of black. The grounds were barely visible: only by the dull sheen of dew on the grass could you tell the world, the solid earth, even existed.

But without his glasses, Harry blearily took the darkness for nothing more than a trick played by an unusually dull half-moon, and the fact that he was mostly asleep anyway.

-------------

He slept a while longer in peace; but sometime in the small hours of the morning, perhaps around two a.m., a faint shuffling at the foot of his bed made him stir. He was unaware of anything but the strange dream he was having, however: and the shuffling noise became to him nothing more than the soft sound of scratching at some dream-land door he was currently imagining in his subconscious mind.

spoke the faintest whisper, and a trunk lid was opened on silent hinges.

Hermione stole quietly away, under the safety and protection of Harry's Invisibility Cloak, carrying a copy of the Marauder's Map and her wand in one hand, and Harry's precious Firebolt in the other.

-------------

In the hour before dawn, Harry was startled out of restless sleep by the sharp and immediate feeling that he had to go somewhere, and quickly!

He lunged out of bed and pulled on his robes from the previous day; and, in his absentness and preoccupation, managed to put them on backwards. He started to get into his slippers, but paused. Some odd feeling he couldn't describe was telling him to put on the dragonhide boots he'd bought last year. He complied with this feeling, and it seemed to be satisfied.

He walked around to his trunk, pulled out his wand, and, to his immense discomfort, found that the lid was already unlocked. He opened it only to discover two of his most prized possessions missing. He went six shades paler in the dark.

He shook Ron awake, a hand over his mouth to keep the boy quiet, and whispered in his ear to put on clothes and sturdy walking shoes, and follow him downstairs. Ron gave Harry an odd look, but nodded nonetheless. Harry crept down to the common room to wait for him and tried to figure out what to do.

He had gotten his copy of the Marauder's Map out of his trunk, and now he examined it hastily, his eyes sweeping over the paper, searching for something out of the ordinary.

He was standing in the common room, of course, and Ron was moving about in the dorm, but... he glanced at the seventh year girls' dorm on the map. Five beds had occupants, but one person was missing...

he groaned to himself. With the ring's influence working on her, there was no telling what she could have done.

A second glance at the same area told him something else of great importance, though.

He spun around.

Natalie McDonald stood on the girls' staircase, looking at Harry accusingly.

What are you doing? she asked crossly, an odd expression on her face. Normally Natalie was quite timid and shy. You're going out, aren't you? What's that friend of yours, Hermione, what's she up to? I saw her leave a couple hours ago--

Natalie -- Harry began exasperatedly, but was interrupted by Ron coming down the boys' stairs.

Harry, what are you -- oh, hi, Natalie.

Both Natalie and Harry blinked at the greeting.

he asked indignantly. Can't I be friendly?

said Harry softly, jabbing Ron in the ribs with an elbow. She's pulling a Neville.

said Ron, catching on. He gave an apologetic wince.

What are you two doing? Natalie repeated suspiciously.

Oh -- nothing, said Harry, with an acutely guilty expression. Go back to bed.

She said nothing, but walked stubbornly down the stairs towards them. Harry cursed Hermione mentally for taking his Invisibility Cloak.

Natalie now stood directly in front of the two boys, her arms crossed. Ron swallowed despite the fact that the girl was three years younger, not to mention head-and-shoulders shorter, than him. She looked Harry up and down, and finally snapped, I suppose you did that, too.

Harry followed her pointing finger, and found himself looking out the window with a hard sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

What the hell? Ron whispered, edging closer to the glass slowly, as if afraid of it.

There was nothing there. The darkness was so thick that the world was completely pitch black. Not the faintest glimmer of light shone. Harry suddenly thought of the half-moon; dull as it was, it was still there...

But it wasn't.

Harry hit his head on the window pane. Something had gone terribly wrong with Hermione, he knew, but how could she do this? For the moon not to be there, she had either destroyed it -- or the sun itself. Or maybe she had put a veil over the world, or called on powers she shouldn't have. He banged his head again and groaned.

asked Natalie, and Harry could now perceive the smallest glimpse of fear behind the harshness of her voice: of course, she was scared, and covering up for it.

It would take a long time, Ron said slowly. There's -- there's no time now. We've got to go. Harry.

Ron was already halfway to the portrait hole. Harry slipped the Marauder's Map carefully into his pocket, hidden from Natalie's sight, and only hoped that she hadn't seen it already. He followed Ron, pulling his cloak tighter about him. The window had been open for a long time. That blackness could have gotten inside, gotten to him, and -- he didn't know what it would do. But it didn't do to dwell on it. He shivered.

Harry and Ron climbed through the portrait hole. At the last moment Harry turned back, and saw Natalie ascending the stairs to her dormitories. He stared at her back for a moment, then shut the Fat Lady behind himself.

Do you think she'll try and follow us? Harry inquired of Ron quietly.

Ron shook his head as if in a dream. Or maybe, Harry reflected, a nightmare. I - I don't think so. I'm not sure. What's Hermione done?

I have no idea, Harry said shortly. He pulled out the Map again and peered at it, but the hall was too dim. He absently lit his wand, and he and Ron looked over the Map carefully.

Nowhere in the castle... muttered Ron, squinting in the tiny, dim light.

Wait -- by the tree, the tree we were in when Sirius -- oh, come on, Harry said in a rush, realizing, almost without looking, where his friend had gone. He stuffed the Map in his robes and he and Ron pelted (as quietly as possible) down the long hallways to the front doors.

They heaved on the heavy oak doors until they gave and opened on silent hinges. Harry hesitated before stepping out into that awful, almost tangible darkness.

He had been afraid it would hurt. That maybe he'd choke on it. Or it would be freezing cold, and he'd die of hypothermia, or whatever. His imagination, he often conceded, was too active for his own good.

But it didn't hurt him; it didn't choke him; it didn't freeze him. In fact it was rather comfortable, like a nice deep, soft armchair. It was just over the line into uncomfortably cold, but it wasn't sub-zero. There was a sense of muffling silence; not stifling, not suppressing. It was more like being in a large, soundproof room than a having pillow held over his face. He relaxed almost instantly, as did Ron, who was only half a step behind him.

Harry pulled his cloak tighter still, and took a step further. In that way that things look when you close your eyes, Harry imagined he could see little specks of blue and yellowy-white dancing around just out of sight.

he said. He could have sworn he said it in a normal tone of voice, but it came out thin and diminished, just above a whisper.

he tried again, loudly.

came Ron's muffled voice.

Can you hear me? Harry all but shouted.

Ron yelled back.

Harry turned, something of a difficult thing to do. It felt like little brittle strings in huge quantities were binding him to the blackness, and every time he moved, tens of thousands of them snapped and instantly regrew while he was in his new position.

He couldn't see Ron at all. He blinked. He looked down at his hand -- but he couldn't see that either. Even when he brought it to within an inch of his nose, nothing could be made out in this thick blackness of the fingers he was waving in front of his eyes.

Please tell me you're not blind, Harry shouted, half-heartedly.

Can't see a thing, said Ron. He sounded a bit closer now. How many paces is it to the first step?

The front steps! Harry cursed to himself, but the darkness swallowed the sound. I never paid attention, he yelled back.

came a third voice, thinner and higher than the two boys'. You never pay attention, do you? Not in class, not anywhere --

Ron groaned loudly. Harry told you to go to bed.

Just because you're the big famous Harry Potter doesn't mean you're the only person in the castle with an Invisibility Cloak, she shouted angrily. I've got Professor Lupin with me, and --

It's all right, Miss McDonald, calm yourself. Harry, what is going on? Lupin's measured voice struggled through the darkness to their ears. Somehow, he managed to make what he was saying loud and clear without having to yell.

Hermione's doing something, Harry said, pulling his cloak up tighter to fight the growing cold. Has Dumbledore --

I was at the staff meeting, yes, he called. She's attempting the bridge alone?

I think so, said Harry. I don't really understand it -- is this supposed to happen?

It's difficult to explain, but yes, if she is trying that particular spell, I think she's doing it right, Lupin called.

What are you talking about? Natalie yelled angrily. I think if you're going to go smothering the world I ought to know about it, I have to live like a normal person, for heaven's sake, how am I supposed to do that when I'm blind and can't move and--

Shut up, Natalie! cried Ron. We're going looking for Hermione. Come or don't, but the sooner we find her, the sooner this'll stop! He added in a mutter, to himself; I hope.

Something touched Harry's shoulder. said Lupin reassuringly, close enough not to have to call out. Harry, are you certain of this?

She took my Firebolt and my cloak, and she's out by the tree where Sir -- by a tree on the grounds. I know where it is. But she can't do this spell alone! She'll get hurt! She's smart and all, but this is too big --

It takes two people at the least to work it, interrupted Lupin. Someone must be helping her. Do you know if she has the ring?

No clue, said Harry. Probably... but Dumbledore would have had it hidden?

He brought it out to show the staff at the meeting, said Lupin, and Harry could all but see the frown on his face. I don't know how she would have used such an opportunity, but she is clever, and does not draw much attention when she doesn't want to. Does lighting your wand help?

Harry started at the abrupt change of subject, and pulled out his wand.

he said loudly.

The light at the end of the wand was just visible, but was not much more than another little yellow speck in Harry's field of vision.

Lupin murmured, so low Harry thought he imagined it for a moment. He conjured a handful of crackling blue flames, again only barely visible. There was silence for another minute, with some muffled sounds of shuffling.

Lupin spoke again, louder. I happened to have a stub of candle here, and I lit it just now. Did you see the light?

said Harry slowly. What's that blue --

That is the magical fire, said Lupin, that I used to light the candle. Magic, he repeated, is the only thing you can see through this veil. Natural light doesn't show. It makes sense. I shan't explain now. Show me where your tree is, Harry, I'd like to see Hermione myself -- and whoever is helping her.

Lumos magnificus, Harry murmured to his wand. The light on the end grew to what was normally a flaring brilliance too bright to look at, dwarfing the sun itself. Under this muffling blackness, he could make out his surroundings for a diameter of about two feet by the dim light.

Ron and Lupin followed his example. Staying within their circle of light, the three walked across the lawns carefully to avoid tripping on the uneven ground. Natalie followed stubbornly behind them, walking right in the fringe of their light.

The darkness seemed to follow them as they and their lights moved along, and it unnerved Harry immensely. Trying not to look over his shoulder every few seconds, he produced the Map from his robes once more, and instantly found the tree he and Hermione had sat in a few weeks ago to listen to Sirius's story.

He almost pulled up short at the names labeling the six little black dots that were huddled around the trunk of the tree.

Oh... boy, he muttered.

Did you say something, Harry? asked Lupin, turning: he had walked right past Harry without noticing. The faint, colorless illumination made him look more like a ghost than a human; he did tend to be rather pale anyway. Natalie bumped into Ron, who had stopped abruptly in his tracks to look at Harry questioningly.

Hermione's there, Harry said, louder. Er... with a bunch of other people. He looked at the sheet again and groaned. Looks like we missed all the drama, he added.

Who's there? asked Lupin, looking concerned.

Hermione... Sirius... Eloise, Harry said slowly, as if he didn't want to say the next three names. Malfoy and Snape, he went on in a rush. Ron groaned, and Lupin's frown grew deeper.

The sixth? Lupin asked, sounding like it was the end of the world. Which, Harry thought dismally, it very well might be. He looked out into the darkness beyond their little sphere.

It doesn't make any sense, Harry moaned.

Who's the sixth person? asked Ron fervently.

Not a person... Dobby. The house-elf. Harry looked at Ron, winced, and shrugged despairingly.

A house-elf? Lupin repeated, his forehead deeply furrowed. The shadows cast by his small light made him look even more haggard. Suddenly the wrinkles cleared, replaced by a look of utmost horror. Oh... Lord. Dobby... that's the one that gets paid? The free one? You freed him, didn't you, Harry?

Harry nodded, bewildered.

Oh no, Lupin groaned. He snatched the Map from Harry and examined it quickly. He mouthed silently for a moment; then turned and bolted in the direction of the tree and the six people around it.

said Ron sarcastically. He's officially lost it. What can Dobby do? He snorted for emphasis.

He can teleport, he can knock someone over by pointing at them, he can make the Platform 9 3/4 barrier close off schedule, Harry said slowly, catching on. And he can enchant a Bludger to go after one person in particular. Did you sleep through Lupin's lesson on house-elves? They're extremely powerful... but they're slaves, so they can't use their power without permission from their masters... During this Harry had begun to walk on in the direction Lupin had gone, and by the word masters' he was running at top speed.

But Dobby's free, said Ron, looking after Harry's back as if his friend had gone completely starkers.

Natalie had paled visibly, even in this darkness, and was looking wide-eyed towards the place where Harry and Lupin had vanished. She gave Ron a frightened sneer and shoved past him, lighting her wand as she went. she growled, and pelted along after Harry and Professor Lupin.

asked Ron, bewildered.

Then the light came on. His eyes widened and he was soon on Natalie's heels.

----------

Harry, Ron and Natalie never made it to the tree. There was a huge, reverberating ripple, like a silent supersonic boom. All those brittle strings, like the rough side of Velcro, that Harry had been imagining were holding him down, snapped instantaneously.

The muffled silence went out with a monstrous, soundless bang, and Harry was knocked over by the force of it.

He had already blacked out by the time the soft, cold darkness shivered up into fog; then a light mist; then nothingness. He didn't see the gray light of dawn filtering out over the world, or taste the suddenly fresher air.

A bird began to cry out harshly in the tree under which Hermione and six others had been; but it had no audience. Ten people had been outside last night. Now three of them were unconscious.

And seven were dead.
-----------

A/N: MWUAHAHAHA. Er. Um. Please don't kill me. Chapter Eight is well embedded in my mind: all there is to do is type it up. I won't leave you hanging for too long. *evil author grin*