CHAPTER 13: THE BALL
He was sitting in the armchair, nervously drumming, when she came out of the girl's room. Harry jumped to his feet, offering her his hand as he walked to the bottom of the stairs. She was dressed in a deep red gown with gold shimmers, her eyes bright as she slid her hand into his. Tucked into her hair was a golden filigree claw, which had caught up half of her hair into a bun. The rest of it spilled down her back, incredibly curly and bouncy with life. She smiled down sweetly at him, and all of his fears and tensions disappeared, lost in her radiance.
"Erif?" He asked, coming up behind her after her Transfiguration class. She was still prodding her porcupine with her wand, as if by touching it with it, the small creature would turn into a pincushion.
"Forget this," she snapped, casting her wand down while the animal scrambled off for cover. Professor McGonogall looked up from her papers in the front of the class, and Arlé quieted her tone. "What do you want?" She sighed, looking pointedly down at the desk.
"I'm sorry the name slipped," Harry said to her, trying to make amends.
"Did you get that name from the Globe?" she asked softly so McGonogall wouldn't hear.
"No, I didn't. I'll tell you how I knew when you tell me about your past."
She turned from him a moment, contemplating, and then returned with a shy smile. "Fair's fair," she said, and shook his hand firmly.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead," she said with a wave of her hand, turning her back to him as she picked up the porcupine from the floor and set it on the desk again.
"Would you like to go to the Ball with me?" She turned around fully, as surprised by his daring as he was.
"Yes," she sighed with gladness, and he could tell that she had genuinely meant it...
Behind him, Ron stood and gasped as Hermione came down the stairs. Harry's mind jumped to the present and he pulled Arlé out of Hermione's way, bringing her a little closer to him. Hermione smiled down at him in a calm way, and Ron offered his arm for her. She accepted it smoothly, and winked at Arlé when Ron wasn't looking. Hermione's hair was as straight as Arlé's was curly, and just as pretty, and her evening blue dress robes shimmered with some magical charm. Together the four set out for the Ball.
It was exciting enough to be going to the Ball with Arlé, but to be going with Ron and Hermione only made him happier. Ron had profusely apologized on the previous Wednesday, and then asked if Harry minded if he would try out for the Quidditch team since Wood was gone. Harry had agreed; Ron's family seemed to have a knack for Quidditch, and the only thing stopping his chances at playing was his broom. His Shooting Star had long since been outdated...
"I'm so excited," Arlé said, a smile playing at her lips and a fire within her eyes. "This is one of those things that never happens when you're home schooled..."
"Is this your first time?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I guess... My brothers used to bring home stories of girls they've met, and dances they've been to, but this is my first one." She blushed a little and ducked her head.
Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the back. "This is the first one where we haven't been rushing at the last moment to find dates, right Harry?"
Harry nodded, remembering the previous year's dance with mixed feelings. He had been obsessed with going with Cho last year... Would he forget Arlé as quickly as he had Cho?
He profusely hoped not.
They entered the Great Hall and glanced around in awe at the transfiguration. The tables had been pushed aside and lined up against one side of the hall, and a large amount of space had been allotted to the dance floor. The students were enjoying themselves as they spun across the dance floor with their partners, and "Smashing Pumpkins," the band Dumbledore had hired, was wailing a fast number.
The quartet glanced around at each other, and an unspoken agreement was reached as they floated toward the tables first. Harry realized that they were late enough that the band had already started playing; Dumbledore had given his speech already. He glanced around at the clock and saw that it said quarter of six. The dance had probably started at five, but he and Ron had waited impatiently for their dates while they fussed and primped in their dorm.
Arlé sat down next to him, her no-sleeve dress rustling as she slid into the seat. The ceiling shone crystal clear and sparkled with a smattering of bewitched stars. Her hair sparkled as it matched the color of the red along the wall; Harry felt a twinge of deja vu as he noticed the streamers were green, red, blue, and black, just as they were in the Time Globe...
Dumbledore was standing alone at the faculty's table, which had been set along the far wall. He appeared to be waiting for something, and Harry wondered vaguely what it was. Glancing around the room, he noticed that Snape and Bailey were standing off to one side of the dance floor, talking with their heads rather close together.
A feeling of unreality swept over him as he looked around. Was he really going to this dance with his "crush"? Was it all real? He pinched himself and smiled; it was...
She smiled at him, tucking one loose strand of hair behind her ear as she caught his own rather nervous smile. Her eyes glowed with green energy, blessing him with their emerald depths.
He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Cho was standing along the edge of the dance floor, and looking rather forlornly at the happy dancers. Harry winced and looked away, knowing exactly what she was thinking of. With a crash, the rest of reality sank in, and he sighed. There would never be a day when Harry would not think of the death he had caused.
Arlé smiled as a menu came up before her, delighted, and poked him in the side. "Stop looking so depressing, you're pulling me down," she joked, smiling as she ordered her meal. It appeared in front of her with a soft whoosh, and she sniffed at the aromas appreciatively before digging into the noodles.
Harry ordered his food quickly, determined to spend as much time on the dance floor with her as he could.
What was it about her that attracted him to her, he wondered as they ate and talked idle talk. She was calm and reserved at times, while at other times she could be frighteningly powerful, almost as if she didn't know her own strength... And yet she had the Dark Mark, a major cause of concern with Ron and Hermione. Ron's angry remark to him about her echoed back at him: When she turns you over to You-Know-Who, you'll know who your real friends are.
She wouldn't... would she?
They finished their meal just as the band was finishing a fast number, and their chords echoing the start of another song were slow and obviously minor, as the lead vocalist said, "We wrote this song after reading a bit of Muggle tragedy called 'Romeo and Juliet' The tragedy involves a series of events that were unavoidable and, well, tragic." He received a few laughs from this, and continued, "These two 'star-crossed lovers' were born into rival families, one a Capulet and one a Montague, and they happened upon each other at a party. Without further ado, I give you the song 'Night to Remember...'" The band launched fully into the dominating minor chords.
Ron jumped to his feet and offered his hand to Hermione, who looked up at him with a playful grin that was quite unlike herself. They moved away from the table, and Harry turned to Arlé.
She grinned and got to her feet. Harry almost tripped as his foot got caught on chair leg, but she grabbed his arm and he steadied himself. "Please tell me you know how to dance," she pleaded jokingly.
"Not really," Harry blushed, and Arlé nodded, hiding a giggle behind her hand.
"What better time to learn than now?" They walked to a corner of the dance floor, where she positioned his hands accordingly; one on her waist and the other one in her hand. "You have to lead, Harry," she said softly after a moment's pause. He shook his head and muttered, "I don't know how."
"Get the rhythm of the music into your head first, and focus on what the others are doing." He glanced around at the people nearby, and then, as the melody began, it clicked in his mind.
The male lead vocalist began the melody.
"At first glance this I knew
You would be the one
To which I could give of my life,
Until the years were done."
The female voice was sweet but melancholy, reminding Harry of Arlé.
"Please do not speak to me
Do not one word of me ask
For all my kinsmen would kill thee,
If you would take off thy mask."
They flowed together like they had been dancing together all their lives, the music floating around them; whether by accident or chance, they had maneuvered to the middle of the crowd. Arlé slid her hand along his arm and rested both hands on either side of his neck, drawing him closer. Students around them were slowing to look at them, and Harry blushed as he ducked beside her ear and said, "I never knew I could dance this well."
"I was the one that taught both of my brothers to dance," she responded, her voice soft even near his ear. "They were never as good as you, though. You haven't stepped on my foot once."
"Shush, you're going to jinx me!"
She laughed, a bell-like tonal quality that almost made him shiver with delight. As the singers increased in intensity while nearing the end, time seemed to slow for Harry.
Dear Juliet, I wait for the sunrise
Fair lady, I wait for the dawn
When we forget our names
And our new life together is born.
I give you a night to remember
For all eternity
Now throw aside your name
And share this beginning with me...
Arlé smiled as the song ended; Harry could see tears in her eyes and wished for the umpteenth time that she would explain herself to him. There was so much to her that he didn't know, so much that he wanted to know...
Her arms slid from around his neck, leaving his neck exposed to the cooler air around. The hair on his neck bristled as he let go of her, and she nervously swiped at her eyes.
"Erif..." He began, but was interrupted by a twinge of pain from his scar. Of all the times, he groaned inwardly, and was about to lead her off of the dance floor when Ron cut in.
"Wow, Erif, you sure know how to teach people to dance."
"Maybe you should take a class or two with her, Ron," Hermione groaned playfully, rubbing her feet.
"I do know how to dance!" Ron replied hotly, and Hermione smiled.
"Calm down, Ron, I was joking." They wandered back to the table, Harry's statement aborted in the nick of time. If Hermione and Ron had heard what he was about to say... Would they have approved?
Arlé squeezed his hand and murmured briskly, "We'll take a walk outside later." Apparently she wanted to hear what he had begun to say.
The band struck up a faster number, but Harry's mind remained on the melancholy words of the previous song. "For all my kinsmen would kill thee/if you would take off thy mask..."
* * *
She drew him outside at around ten o'clock, intent on hearing what he would have to say. She noticed his nervous backward glance as they walked out into the balmy early autumn air, but chose to ignore it. She pushed down the desire to glance back as well.
Erif rubbed her arm slowly, knowing that with the double dose she had taken right before the dance she would be all set until tomorrow morning. Yet still it itched, making her wish for a long-sleeve instead of this light but comfortable dress. She noticed with some concern that Harry rubbed at his forehead as if it was bothering him, and wondered what exactly was the matter with his scar. Hadn't it interrupted him after that remarkable song...?
They walked for some distance through the gardens, and something glittering in the distance beside the Greenhouses made her pause midstep.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing toward the place where she had just seen it flash.
"What was what?" He mused, turning sharp green eyes in the direction she had motioned.
Harry turned back to her, eyes wide. "'The fifth and sixth--'"
"'Are beside the Greenhouses.'" She had taught him the rough translation of the odd language the same day he had asked her to go to the Ball with him. He had it memorized, but they had decided not to bring the information to Dumbledore yet.
Now Erif glanced back behind her, trying to see inside the Great Hall but failing. "Do you think Summer and Snape have left the dance?"
"If the Gates are being activated, then who else would be over there?" Harry responded, and he pulled her closer, grasping his wand in his left hand. She wished strongly that she could have her wand at her side. She settled for gazing longingly at Harry's wand, and he caught her gaze. "Should we go check it out?"
"Most definitely," she said, and her eyes must have betrayed her sudden anxiety. Going to "check something out" with a person who was famous for finding trouble, without a wand, in a dress...
"Accio!" he muttered and a moment later, her wand landed neatly in his hand. He handed it to her and she thanked him. He put his fingers to his lips and motioned her closer to the Greenhouse, where they hid within the shadows four green eyes intent on their surroundings.
After a few tense moments of waiting, voices could be heard.
"It's coming back... the Dark Lord knows..." Snape uttered, and Summer nodded agreement.
"It's harder to resist the pull this time," Summer mused, and Erif felt the same way about herself. She was extremely grateful for the potion she had just taken, or undoubtedly she would be pulled by her mark.
Snape nodded and help his wand out a little further. "I have to admit its pull is stronger than I can control sometimes..."
"Yes... I'm just wishing that he never finds out that I am still alive..."
Snape gripped her arm and whispered, "You don't think he knows? Surely the protections we put up around you..."
"May not be enough. We put them up after You-Know-Who was destroyed by that curse that was supposed to kill Harry. Who knows how much strength he has increased since he came back..." She ducked her head and Erif realized that Summer was far stronger than she had made her out to be. "Where are those Gates he sent us out here to find anyway?"
"Dumbledore didn't realize that there were more than two of them..." Snape cursed loudly, glad for the change of subject, and Summer put her hand on his arm reassuringly.
"He knows what he's doing. I don't think that there are more than the four we've found so far..."
"Are you sure, Summer?"
Erif wanted to shout that there were seven, but Harry touched her arm before she could jump out and run towards them. He shook his head and nodded at them, then back at the Great Hall, and his eyes rested on hers again.
She nodded and fought down the desire to grab his hand. What were they doing out here, spying on two of their teachers who obviously knew more about the subject than either she or Harry did...
Now that was untrue... She knew that Summer and Snape both thought that they had only four Gates to guard, but in actuality there were seven...
Someone grabbed at her arm from behind, and at first she thought it was Harry. But Harry spun with a gasp, disturbed from his silent reverie by the violent motion and a twinge of pain from his scar, and pointed his wand behind Erif, his eyes bright. She ducked as one of the icy hands came around for her mouth, intending to silence her, but the other one held tight to her arm as he dragged her back into the shadows. Harry cried, "Expelliarmus!" and she could hear the sound of a wand clattering against the side of the Greenhouse as her assailant cursed softly.
Snape and Summer came running, lighting their wands with swift cries of "Lumos!" and with twin cries of "Stupefy" dropped both Erif and the attacker to the grass.
She struggled to her feet shakily, more frightened than hurt, and backed up swiftly from the still form. She roughly bumped into Harry, who grabbed her arm as if by holding onto her he could protect her from the menace. Snape glared down at the form, and then gasped in a quite un-Snape-like move. "Malfoy," he whispered, and Summer leaned over him carefully. He growled, a low yet audible sound in the stillness of the night.
She turned back to Erif and Harry, who stared numbly at her, both sets of eyes wide with fright. "We have some explaining and discovering to do," Summer said as Snape conjured a stretcher for Malfoy.
(*A/N: Hey, I'm sorry I have to leave it off at such a climax, but to make you feel a bit better, I've also included the full song that the Group "Smashing Pumpkins" had written. Thank you for reviewing! Enjoy!*)
He was sitting in the armchair, nervously drumming, when she came out of the girl's room. Harry jumped to his feet, offering her his hand as he walked to the bottom of the stairs. She was dressed in a deep red gown with gold shimmers, her eyes bright as she slid her hand into his. Tucked into her hair was a golden filigree claw, which had caught up half of her hair into a bun. The rest of it spilled down her back, incredibly curly and bouncy with life. She smiled down sweetly at him, and all of his fears and tensions disappeared, lost in her radiance.
"Erif?" He asked, coming up behind her after her Transfiguration class. She was still prodding her porcupine with her wand, as if by touching it with it, the small creature would turn into a pincushion.
"Forget this," she snapped, casting her wand down while the animal scrambled off for cover. Professor McGonogall looked up from her papers in the front of the class, and Arlé quieted her tone. "What do you want?" She sighed, looking pointedly down at the desk.
"I'm sorry the name slipped," Harry said to her, trying to make amends.
"Did you get that name from the Globe?" she asked softly so McGonogall wouldn't hear.
"No, I didn't. I'll tell you how I knew when you tell me about your past."
She turned from him a moment, contemplating, and then returned with a shy smile. "Fair's fair," she said, and shook his hand firmly.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Go ahead," she said with a wave of her hand, turning her back to him as she picked up the porcupine from the floor and set it on the desk again.
"Would you like to go to the Ball with me?" She turned around fully, as surprised by his daring as he was.
"Yes," she sighed with gladness, and he could tell that she had genuinely meant it...
Behind him, Ron stood and gasped as Hermione came down the stairs. Harry's mind jumped to the present and he pulled Arlé out of Hermione's way, bringing her a little closer to him. Hermione smiled down at him in a calm way, and Ron offered his arm for her. She accepted it smoothly, and winked at Arlé when Ron wasn't looking. Hermione's hair was as straight as Arlé's was curly, and just as pretty, and her evening blue dress robes shimmered with some magical charm. Together the four set out for the Ball.
It was exciting enough to be going to the Ball with Arlé, but to be going with Ron and Hermione only made him happier. Ron had profusely apologized on the previous Wednesday, and then asked if Harry minded if he would try out for the Quidditch team since Wood was gone. Harry had agreed; Ron's family seemed to have a knack for Quidditch, and the only thing stopping his chances at playing was his broom. His Shooting Star had long since been outdated...
"I'm so excited," Arlé said, a smile playing at her lips and a fire within her eyes. "This is one of those things that never happens when you're home schooled..."
"Is this your first time?" Hermione asked.
"Well, I guess... My brothers used to bring home stories of girls they've met, and dances they've been to, but this is my first one." She blushed a little and ducked her head.
Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the back. "This is the first one where we haven't been rushing at the last moment to find dates, right Harry?"
Harry nodded, remembering the previous year's dance with mixed feelings. He had been obsessed with going with Cho last year... Would he forget Arlé as quickly as he had Cho?
He profusely hoped not.
They entered the Great Hall and glanced around in awe at the transfiguration. The tables had been pushed aside and lined up against one side of the hall, and a large amount of space had been allotted to the dance floor. The students were enjoying themselves as they spun across the dance floor with their partners, and "Smashing Pumpkins," the band Dumbledore had hired, was wailing a fast number.
The quartet glanced around at each other, and an unspoken agreement was reached as they floated toward the tables first. Harry realized that they were late enough that the band had already started playing; Dumbledore had given his speech already. He glanced around at the clock and saw that it said quarter of six. The dance had probably started at five, but he and Ron had waited impatiently for their dates while they fussed and primped in their dorm.
Arlé sat down next to him, her no-sleeve dress rustling as she slid into the seat. The ceiling shone crystal clear and sparkled with a smattering of bewitched stars. Her hair sparkled as it matched the color of the red along the wall; Harry felt a twinge of deja vu as he noticed the streamers were green, red, blue, and black, just as they were in the Time Globe...
Dumbledore was standing alone at the faculty's table, which had been set along the far wall. He appeared to be waiting for something, and Harry wondered vaguely what it was. Glancing around the room, he noticed that Snape and Bailey were standing off to one side of the dance floor, talking with their heads rather close together.
A feeling of unreality swept over him as he looked around. Was he really going to this dance with his "crush"? Was it all real? He pinched himself and smiled; it was...
She smiled at him, tucking one loose strand of hair behind her ear as she caught his own rather nervous smile. Her eyes glowed with green energy, blessing him with their emerald depths.
He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Cho was standing along the edge of the dance floor, and looking rather forlornly at the happy dancers. Harry winced and looked away, knowing exactly what she was thinking of. With a crash, the rest of reality sank in, and he sighed. There would never be a day when Harry would not think of the death he had caused.
Arlé smiled as a menu came up before her, delighted, and poked him in the side. "Stop looking so depressing, you're pulling me down," she joked, smiling as she ordered her meal. It appeared in front of her with a soft whoosh, and she sniffed at the aromas appreciatively before digging into the noodles.
Harry ordered his food quickly, determined to spend as much time on the dance floor with her as he could.
What was it about her that attracted him to her, he wondered as they ate and talked idle talk. She was calm and reserved at times, while at other times she could be frighteningly powerful, almost as if she didn't know her own strength... And yet she had the Dark Mark, a major cause of concern with Ron and Hermione. Ron's angry remark to him about her echoed back at him: When she turns you over to You-Know-Who, you'll know who your real friends are.
She wouldn't... would she?
They finished their meal just as the band was finishing a fast number, and their chords echoing the start of another song were slow and obviously minor, as the lead vocalist said, "We wrote this song after reading a bit of Muggle tragedy called 'Romeo and Juliet' The tragedy involves a series of events that were unavoidable and, well, tragic." He received a few laughs from this, and continued, "These two 'star-crossed lovers' were born into rival families, one a Capulet and one a Montague, and they happened upon each other at a party. Without further ado, I give you the song 'Night to Remember...'" The band launched fully into the dominating minor chords.
Ron jumped to his feet and offered his hand to Hermione, who looked up at him with a playful grin that was quite unlike herself. They moved away from the table, and Harry turned to Arlé.
She grinned and got to her feet. Harry almost tripped as his foot got caught on chair leg, but she grabbed his arm and he steadied himself. "Please tell me you know how to dance," she pleaded jokingly.
"Not really," Harry blushed, and Arlé nodded, hiding a giggle behind her hand.
"What better time to learn than now?" They walked to a corner of the dance floor, where she positioned his hands accordingly; one on her waist and the other one in her hand. "You have to lead, Harry," she said softly after a moment's pause. He shook his head and muttered, "I don't know how."
"Get the rhythm of the music into your head first, and focus on what the others are doing." He glanced around at the people nearby, and then, as the melody began, it clicked in his mind.
The male lead vocalist began the melody.
"At first glance this I knew
You would be the one
To which I could give of my life,
Until the years were done."
The female voice was sweet but melancholy, reminding Harry of Arlé.
"Please do not speak to me
Do not one word of me ask
For all my kinsmen would kill thee,
If you would take off thy mask."
They flowed together like they had been dancing together all their lives, the music floating around them; whether by accident or chance, they had maneuvered to the middle of the crowd. Arlé slid her hand along his arm and rested both hands on either side of his neck, drawing him closer. Students around them were slowing to look at them, and Harry blushed as he ducked beside her ear and said, "I never knew I could dance this well."
"I was the one that taught both of my brothers to dance," she responded, her voice soft even near his ear. "They were never as good as you, though. You haven't stepped on my foot once."
"Shush, you're going to jinx me!"
She laughed, a bell-like tonal quality that almost made him shiver with delight. As the singers increased in intensity while nearing the end, time seemed to slow for Harry.
Dear Juliet, I wait for the sunrise
Fair lady, I wait for the dawn
When we forget our names
And our new life together is born.
I give you a night to remember
For all eternity
Now throw aside your name
And share this beginning with me...
Arlé smiled as the song ended; Harry could see tears in her eyes and wished for the umpteenth time that she would explain herself to him. There was so much to her that he didn't know, so much that he wanted to know...
Her arms slid from around his neck, leaving his neck exposed to the cooler air around. The hair on his neck bristled as he let go of her, and she nervously swiped at her eyes.
"Erif..." He began, but was interrupted by a twinge of pain from his scar. Of all the times, he groaned inwardly, and was about to lead her off of the dance floor when Ron cut in.
"Wow, Erif, you sure know how to teach people to dance."
"Maybe you should take a class or two with her, Ron," Hermione groaned playfully, rubbing her feet.
"I do know how to dance!" Ron replied hotly, and Hermione smiled.
"Calm down, Ron, I was joking." They wandered back to the table, Harry's statement aborted in the nick of time. If Hermione and Ron had heard what he was about to say... Would they have approved?
Arlé squeezed his hand and murmured briskly, "We'll take a walk outside later." Apparently she wanted to hear what he had begun to say.
The band struck up a faster number, but Harry's mind remained on the melancholy words of the previous song. "For all my kinsmen would kill thee/if you would take off thy mask..."
* * *
She drew him outside at around ten o'clock, intent on hearing what he would have to say. She noticed his nervous backward glance as they walked out into the balmy early autumn air, but chose to ignore it. She pushed down the desire to glance back as well.
Erif rubbed her arm slowly, knowing that with the double dose she had taken right before the dance she would be all set until tomorrow morning. Yet still it itched, making her wish for a long-sleeve instead of this light but comfortable dress. She noticed with some concern that Harry rubbed at his forehead as if it was bothering him, and wondered what exactly was the matter with his scar. Hadn't it interrupted him after that remarkable song...?
They walked for some distance through the gardens, and something glittering in the distance beside the Greenhouses made her pause midstep.
"What's that?" she asked, pointing toward the place where she had just seen it flash.
"What was what?" He mused, turning sharp green eyes in the direction she had motioned.
Harry turned back to her, eyes wide. "'The fifth and sixth--'"
"'Are beside the Greenhouses.'" She had taught him the rough translation of the odd language the same day he had asked her to go to the Ball with him. He had it memorized, but they had decided not to bring the information to Dumbledore yet.
Now Erif glanced back behind her, trying to see inside the Great Hall but failing. "Do you think Summer and Snape have left the dance?"
"If the Gates are being activated, then who else would be over there?" Harry responded, and he pulled her closer, grasping his wand in his left hand. She wished strongly that she could have her wand at her side. She settled for gazing longingly at Harry's wand, and he caught her gaze. "Should we go check it out?"
"Most definitely," she said, and her eyes must have betrayed her sudden anxiety. Going to "check something out" with a person who was famous for finding trouble, without a wand, in a dress...
"Accio!" he muttered and a moment later, her wand landed neatly in his hand. He handed it to her and she thanked him. He put his fingers to his lips and motioned her closer to the Greenhouse, where they hid within the shadows four green eyes intent on their surroundings.
After a few tense moments of waiting, voices could be heard.
"It's coming back... the Dark Lord knows..." Snape uttered, and Summer nodded agreement.
"It's harder to resist the pull this time," Summer mused, and Erif felt the same way about herself. She was extremely grateful for the potion she had just taken, or undoubtedly she would be pulled by her mark.
Snape nodded and help his wand out a little further. "I have to admit its pull is stronger than I can control sometimes..."
"Yes... I'm just wishing that he never finds out that I am still alive..."
Snape gripped her arm and whispered, "You don't think he knows? Surely the protections we put up around you..."
"May not be enough. We put them up after You-Know-Who was destroyed by that curse that was supposed to kill Harry. Who knows how much strength he has increased since he came back..." She ducked her head and Erif realized that Summer was far stronger than she had made her out to be. "Where are those Gates he sent us out here to find anyway?"
"Dumbledore didn't realize that there were more than two of them..." Snape cursed loudly, glad for the change of subject, and Summer put her hand on his arm reassuringly.
"He knows what he's doing. I don't think that there are more than the four we've found so far..."
"Are you sure, Summer?"
Erif wanted to shout that there were seven, but Harry touched her arm before she could jump out and run towards them. He shook his head and nodded at them, then back at the Great Hall, and his eyes rested on hers again.
She nodded and fought down the desire to grab his hand. What were they doing out here, spying on two of their teachers who obviously knew more about the subject than either she or Harry did...
Now that was untrue... She knew that Summer and Snape both thought that they had only four Gates to guard, but in actuality there were seven...
Someone grabbed at her arm from behind, and at first she thought it was Harry. But Harry spun with a gasp, disturbed from his silent reverie by the violent motion and a twinge of pain from his scar, and pointed his wand behind Erif, his eyes bright. She ducked as one of the icy hands came around for her mouth, intending to silence her, but the other one held tight to her arm as he dragged her back into the shadows. Harry cried, "Expelliarmus!" and she could hear the sound of a wand clattering against the side of the Greenhouse as her assailant cursed softly.
Snape and Summer came running, lighting their wands with swift cries of "Lumos!" and with twin cries of "Stupefy" dropped both Erif and the attacker to the grass.
She struggled to her feet shakily, more frightened than hurt, and backed up swiftly from the still form. She roughly bumped into Harry, who grabbed her arm as if by holding onto her he could protect her from the menace. Snape glared down at the form, and then gasped in a quite un-Snape-like move. "Malfoy," he whispered, and Summer leaned over him carefully. He growled, a low yet audible sound in the stillness of the night.
She turned back to Erif and Harry, who stared numbly at her, both sets of eyes wide with fright. "We have some explaining and discovering to do," Summer said as Snape conjured a stretcher for Malfoy.
(*A/N: Hey, I'm sorry I have to leave it off at such a climax, but to make you feel a bit better, I've also included the full song that the Group "Smashing Pumpkins" had written. Thank you for reviewing! Enjoy!*)