CHAPTER 14: EXPLANATION
Arlé was staring down at Malfoy, a look torn between hatred and compassion on her pretty face, while Harry stood further back from the hospital bed. How could it be that she could feel any sort of emotion for this boy that had tried to kill her? After all of his coldness and harshness toward her, after all the things he had done to Harry... He winced as his scar twinged annoyingly. Now he understood what it was trying to warn him about...
She looked away after a moment or two, shivering in the now chilly night air, and Harry pulled her into a light embrace. "Are you okay?" He asked her softly, watching both the door to Madame Pomfrey's office and Malfoy's bed, where the Slytherin boy was firmly tied down with magic. Snape and Bailey had gone in there almost fifteen minutes ago and hadn't come out yet. And Malfoy... he was acting incredibly strange; snarling at anyone who came too near, mostly emitting strange growls from his throat. Harry could almost guess now how Sirius must act by listening and watching Malfoy.
"Yes, I just..." she trailed off and continued after a long moment, "I just don't understand. If You-Know-Who had taken Malfoy by force, as we had thought in the beginning, why did he let him go?"
"Maybe Bailey will explain it to us."
Arlé snorted. "Summer is often secretive, and Snape would quite frankly rather award us detention for listening in on their conversation or accuse us of snogging where we weren't supposed to..." Harry had to laugh at that one.
"He would," he hastily agreed, and then they both froze as Malfoy snarled.
"Draco," Arlé soothed, and her voice took on a lilting quality as she spoke directly to him. She drew away from Harry's embrace and grasped Malfoy's arm. "He's not feverish, yet he feels warm, and its like he's living in another world, where everyone is an enemy..." She shook her head and drew her hand back as he growled at her, and continued, "I feel compelled to help him, yet I do not know how..."
Harry moved to her side. "It seems similar to Snuffles. Bailey said that he would snarl at everyone who came near, and try to bite them..." She glanced at him before staring intently down at Malfoy again, and the Slytherin reached out and his hand grasped hers as if of its own volition.
She brushed back some of the hair that had fallen out of the clip, and touched Malfoy's forehead briefly. "I wonder..." she mused under her breath, and Harry could see her brow furrow in concentration as she shut her beautiful green eyes.
"Ardesco..." A strange light seemed to flow from Arlé as she uttered this. Harry felt compelled to answer her definitively with, "Fulminis," but Malfoy snarled at her, breaking the trance, and the light receded. "Not yet..." she whispered sadly, and Malfoy dropped his hand from Arlé's.
"What...?" Harry asked, wondering what he had said. She jumped at the sound of his voice and her eyes clouded with confusion.
"What?" She asked him and before he could explain, the door creaked open and Snape and Bailey walked in.
Bailey looked down at Malfoy and shook her head. Turning to Snape she said cryptically, "They way they respond is remarkably the same."
"It must be the same thing then. But is it a curse or a potion?"
"Or something else?"
Bailey motioned them inside the office as Madame Pomfrey bustled out into Malfoy's room. They sank into chairs lined up along one side of the wall, wondering if Snape's vicious temper would shine through and grant them both detentions...
"We need to talk." Bailey pulled a chair over in front of them and Snape quickly followed suit. "Why were you out near the Greenhouses?"
Harry looked over at Arlé, who nodded solemnly and began haltingly. "We came outside to discuss something, and I noticed a glint of something near the Greenhouse. We came to investigate."
Snape sneered and said, "But that's not all you have to say, is it? You never go and investigate for the sake of it; there had to have been an ulterior motive."
She looked wide-eyed at Harry and her emerald eyes asked him so many questions, none of which he could answer. She sighed and said, "We read something about Gates in a book... And we saw something flashing and assumed it was a Gate being opened." She paused, knowing immediately that she had made a fatal error and left gaps in her story.
"Why would you assume it was a Gate?" Bailey asked, her bronze eyes narrowing suspiciously, and Harry knew she had cornered them.
Arlé's green eyes flashed in his direction before she answered hesitantly, "I overheard you two and Professor Dumbledore talking about Gates, and sending Parvati home through one."
Snape sighed exasperatedly and snarled, "What else did you hear us talking about?"
She didn't answer, and Snape leaned in closer, pressing his point. "What else?"
She shook her head and said, "Nothing else."
He obviously knew she was lying, but he did not comment further, which surprised Harry greatly.
Bailey diverted the subject and asked, "What book did you read this out of?"
" 'Hogwarts, A History,'" Arlé supplied.
"That book doesn't mention it."
"Yes it does!" Arlé blurted.
Snape and Bailey exchanged a startled look.
"Where?" Professor Bailey asked slowly.
Arlé blushed, "I was able to read the language that the book said no one could decipher..."
"What did it say?"
Arlé recited the entire passage, and Snape and Bailey exchanged another look. "So there were more than four..." Snape hissed.
"This means that You-Know-Who definitely knew about the Gates being opened this weekend..."
As they were speaking, the door creaked open and Professor Dumbledore entered. "I came as soon as Parvati was home and you two hadn't come back... I feared the worst." He acknowledged Harry and Arlé with a nod and asked, "Voldemort sent Malfoy back? I assume in a bad condition."
Bailey nodded. "He is showing the same instincts as Black is, without any link to why or how he is acting this way. He would probably have killed Arlé if we hadn't been there."
Dumbledore looked Arlé over a second time, as if assessing her for wounds, and nodded. "Are you all right?" He asked softly, and she nodded, obviously not trusting her voice.
"I must ask you two, Summer and Severus, to return to the Ball. Who knows what else Voldemort--" Summer and Arlé flinched at the rough sounding name, but Dumbledore continued without amending as Harry usually did around his friends. "--could throw at us even as we speak." He waited until Snape and Bailey had left and then turned to Arlé and Harry with bright blue eyes.
"Potter, Deerflada, would you please come with me? I have a few things to discuss with both of you." He led the way to his office, pausing only to utter the password "Snickers". They followed him up the winding staircase, Harry mindful that he didn't tread on the back of Arlé's dress as they climbed.
As they entered, Fawkes called out a long quavering note in a tone that Harry had never heard before. Fawkes swept from his perch and landed on Arlé's outstretched hand, and she paused for a long moment as if drawing strength from the large bird.
They sank gratefully into the chairs before Dumbledore's desk, Harry reveling in the familiar yet different feel of the place. Here was where he had relived the events of the previous year... Cedric's death, Voldemort's rise, Priori Incantatum, and seeing the shades of his mother and father...
"You must keep this to yourselves," Dumbledore began slowly, tenderly, and Harry looked up. He seemed to understand Harry's feelings about this office.
"Professor, did you hear what I was telling Sum... Professor Bailey and Professor Snape?" Arlé demanded just as softly.
"I did indeed." He steepled his fingers and sank back into his chair, watching Harry more than Arlé. "But I would rather not discuss it now, Deerflada," he continued gently, and she nodded tersely. "We have other more crucial things to discuss.
"Voldemort--" Arlé winced, and he changed it hastily, "--You-Know-Who is on the move. I'm sure that you have felt it in your scar, Harry?"
Harry nodded, remembering the twinges during the Ball. With a sudden surge of memory, he realized that Ron and Hermione would probably be worried about him and Arlé, seeing as how trouble always seemed to find him...
Dumbledore continued, "He is looking for you two. We aren't exactly sure why, but I have some ideas--speculations, you could call them--as to why he is searching for you." He brought an old dusty book onto his desk and set it open to a page. "Can you read this, Arlé?" He asked, putting a long finger on the page and watching intently as her expression changed from sullen to... blank.
"Praecavio hostus opacus, qui retento clavis aci turris. Proelium cim aviusunci; aviusunci feri praepoted grandim..."
"Interpret it for us, please."
She leaned forward, and Harry noticed that the phoenix did so always, cocking his head sideways and appearing to read over her shoulder. "Beware the stranger... dark stranger," she corrected absently, "Who holds the key to the tower... Fight with the lost one, for he will bear great power. Fire, Lightning, and Ice come together as friends... It's a prophesy," she interrupted herself, the red fading from her eyes momentarily. She blinked and sank back into her chair again, rubbing her left temple absently.
"Keep going," Dumbledore suggested, and she looked down at the page again after a full minute of massaging her temples. "Using any means... to create their ends. Drive hard, Fire, though death lurks in you path. Lightning, fear nothing, stand firm, and fight back. Ice thawed is just as strong; Rescue the others and right what was wronged. The Snake's venom will prove not fatal. Eventually the darkness will fall..." She looked away from the book and asked, "Do you think... is this us?" She asked confusedly, rubbing her arm along the phoenix's crest. "Was this entire book written for us?"
"What do you mean?" Harry demanded, taking the book into his lap and trying to read it.
"It would appear so," Dumbledore said in response to Arlé's query.
"Then you're Lightning, Harry, the scar is proof of that. I'm Fire, so who is Ice?"
"This was written to help us?" Harry asked, placing one finger in that page as a temporary bookmark. "Read this then," and he thrust the book to Arlé, pointing at the first page.
She slipped her finger in to mark her place, and began translating, "'I write this, not knowing why I do so, but I know that there will come a time when someone will need to use it, and this will make sense to them.'" She paused for a moment and said, "This book was written by Merlin!" She flipped through the pages, excitement building in her thin body.
Harry caught onto her excitement, and then shuddered as a pain coursed through his scar. "I wish I knew what he is doing," Harry exclaimed, frustrated.
Dumbledore rose to his feet and swept to the door, with a swift glance at Harry, who was massaging his scar absently. "I'll be right back," was all of an explanation he gave, and quickly slipped through the door and down the stairs.
Harry leaned closer to Arlé, determined to see what she saw in the strange letters and symbols on the page. He lost track of time while they sat there, close together, breathing her faint smell that reminded him of autumn, and burning firewood on a chilly night.
Dumbledore swept back in after what felt like minutes to Harry but may have been hours, for all he knew.
"I think it is best if you both return to the Ball right now." He determined tone told Harry that there was no room for argument, and apparently Arlé heard it too. She closed the book tenderly and asked, "Could I take this up to my room first?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "That book should stay here in my office. I'd rather no one else saw it, as it could be infinitely valuable in the near future." His eyes glinted with understanding, however, and he tucked the book away carefully. "You may come up here to study it whenever you wish, but do take mind as to who sees you come up here or hears the password. If you think it can help you, then study it." He motioned them to precede him down the stairs, but stayed behind a moment. Harry could just barely hear him speak to the phoenix, "She is the right one for him."
Harry's ears burned as he and Arlé opened the door and stepped out; did Dumbledore suspect that Harry liked her?
And a more disturbing thought; was it really that obvious?
They entered the Ballroom and quickly found Ron and Hermione but Harry stopped before plunging onto the dance floor, feeling the tenseness in her back as he placed his hand on it. Dumbledore headed directly for Bailey and Snape, and spoke hushed words to them. They nodded understanding and fled out of the Hall, unnoticed except by Harry and Arlé, who watched tensely, and then Dumbledore moved to speak to the pianist, who nodded while playing with both of his hands, eyes firmly intent on the page he was reading.
Harry turned and watched Hermione and Ron for a moment. "I'd say they do make a good couple," he murmured to Arlé.
She nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. "Talk to me," he suggested, and she turned her beautiful head slowly, blinking serenely. He caught his breath unnoticeably and decided, I am in love.
"You don't want to know what I'm thinking about," she responded smoothly, although her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
"When are you going to tell me?" He demanded, grasping her arm.
She looked up at him with her glittering emerald eyes, and said, as if thinking out loud, "But you won't understand..."
He sighed, closing his eyes. Did she realize what she was doing to him?
He let go of her arms and turned from her, ready to stalk away, when he remembered the Time Globe. He spun back, and he could tell by the surprise in her eyes that she remembered the Time Globe well. Some unspoken agreement raced between them, and they remained silent.
Harry caught Hermione's eyes as he swung around to watch his friends, and noticed in her gaze the subtle suggestion that they had better have an explanation for sneaking off "unsupervised." Harry couldn't help but snort at the ridiculousness of that particular drama in light of what had really happened, but when Arlé looked up at him, he shook his head. Harry was quickly finding out that some things were best left unsaid around members of the opposite sex.
Whatever component of the song that had moved them to dance before was not present now, and they stood together and waited for Hermione and Ron to join them.
Dumbledore held up his hands as the band finished playing their song, and as Hermione and Ron came up, he began. "My friends, events have come to pass that can be ignored no further. I would ask all of you to return to your Common Rooms now. I know the Ball has not officially ended yet, but please leave promptly." He paused and turned to McGonogall, who said something to him. "Your Heads of House will be in the Common Room momentarily; please follow your Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl who will lead you back to your Common Rooms."
Hermione turned and looked at him, her eyes questing for knowledge. He motioned towards the Common Room, and she nodded. "Lead the way," she motioned and they joined in the crowd of confused people heading for their Common Rooms.
* * *
She listened as Harry explained to Hermione and Ron the incidents of the night; how they had wandered outside and been consequently ambushed by Malfoy, how he had not been in his right mind, and then about the books, and Erif's innate skill at reading them. Ron appeared shocked at this, and looked at her suspiciously, but Hermione had calmed his fears.
"Ron, she's spoken with me and told me secrets I'd rather not inflict on anyone, but I know she's all right. Lighten up a bit!"
Ron didn't appear thrilled about the concept but then again neither had Hermione, when Erif had explained to her.
"So Malfoy's back?" Ron asked, a look of distaste on his freckled features. "I was hoping that one would stay away, I was almost enjoying life without the old ferret."
"But why is he back?"
Erif spoke up for the first time since Harry had begun the explanation. "I think it may be because You-Know-Who is done with him. Perhaps he has manipulated his mind to the way he wants him to be. And now he's a spy within the midst of Hogwarts..."
"You-Know-Who would have to get him out of here again, to get the information out of him," Harry pointed out.
"He did it once," Erif counterpointed. "He could very well do it again."
Ron frowned, looking around the deserted Common Room as if something in the room could solve this dilemma for him. Finding nothing that could help him, he sighed and asked, "Well, what do you suggest we do?"
She shook her head. "I don't know; and quite frankly, I'm too tired to even think straight about all of this. I don't know what to think any more."
"Well I do," Harry stated decisively, making them all look to him with uncertainty, and a little confusion. "Whatever is wrong with Malfoy ails Snuffles, too, and nobody can figure out what it is. So it's up to us to figure it out." He put his head in his hands suddenly, and Erif could tell by the tightness in his face that he was worried about this idea of his.
"Do you have a plan?" She queried when he faltered.
"Yes. But it's dangerous. And it'll never work." He pushed it aside and rose decisively, covering a well-timed yawn with one hand while rubbing his scar thoughtfully. "I'm going to bed now, I can barely see straight."
"And we still have to get cleaned up," Hermione said, indicating Erif's and her own makeup with distaste.
Erif was glad she hadn't put as much makeup as Hermione had; it appeared that it would take her a fair amount of time to take it off. But once they retreated to the semi darkness of their dorm, Hermione uttered a soft charm and her face was clean again. She quickly performed the charm on Erif but said thoughtfully, "I don't know, I think I like your hair curly like this. And I think Harry does, too."
"Honestly, Hermione, I don't understand why you want him and I to get together. I mean, we're not at all alike..." She trailed off as Hermione pinned her with a piercing stare.
"I see it in both of you... that fierce determination to live, no matter what hinders you, no matter how large the obstacle, you calculate how to get past it. Whether you see it or not, you're both..." she paused, carefully choosing her next words. "Both... made for each other. You and he would be support for each other, an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on... I envy you that connection, but I think even Snape would agree that you were made for each other. And that's saying something."
Hermione's mouth twitched upward and she drew Erif into a very different embrace from the kind Harry had given her.
"Hermione, how can I ever repay you?"
"Keep Harry safe. Just keep him safe..."
Erif promised that she would.
(*A/N) Please write what you think! I want to hear if you like it, hate it (nicely, please!!) and if you want me to continue!! Please review!!!!)
Arlé was staring down at Malfoy, a look torn between hatred and compassion on her pretty face, while Harry stood further back from the hospital bed. How could it be that she could feel any sort of emotion for this boy that had tried to kill her? After all of his coldness and harshness toward her, after all the things he had done to Harry... He winced as his scar twinged annoyingly. Now he understood what it was trying to warn him about...
She looked away after a moment or two, shivering in the now chilly night air, and Harry pulled her into a light embrace. "Are you okay?" He asked her softly, watching both the door to Madame Pomfrey's office and Malfoy's bed, where the Slytherin boy was firmly tied down with magic. Snape and Bailey had gone in there almost fifteen minutes ago and hadn't come out yet. And Malfoy... he was acting incredibly strange; snarling at anyone who came too near, mostly emitting strange growls from his throat. Harry could almost guess now how Sirius must act by listening and watching Malfoy.
"Yes, I just..." she trailed off and continued after a long moment, "I just don't understand. If You-Know-Who had taken Malfoy by force, as we had thought in the beginning, why did he let him go?"
"Maybe Bailey will explain it to us."
Arlé snorted. "Summer is often secretive, and Snape would quite frankly rather award us detention for listening in on their conversation or accuse us of snogging where we weren't supposed to..." Harry had to laugh at that one.
"He would," he hastily agreed, and then they both froze as Malfoy snarled.
"Draco," Arlé soothed, and her voice took on a lilting quality as she spoke directly to him. She drew away from Harry's embrace and grasped Malfoy's arm. "He's not feverish, yet he feels warm, and its like he's living in another world, where everyone is an enemy..." She shook her head and drew her hand back as he growled at her, and continued, "I feel compelled to help him, yet I do not know how..."
Harry moved to her side. "It seems similar to Snuffles. Bailey said that he would snarl at everyone who came near, and try to bite them..." She glanced at him before staring intently down at Malfoy again, and the Slytherin reached out and his hand grasped hers as if of its own volition.
She brushed back some of the hair that had fallen out of the clip, and touched Malfoy's forehead briefly. "I wonder..." she mused under her breath, and Harry could see her brow furrow in concentration as she shut her beautiful green eyes.
"Ardesco..." A strange light seemed to flow from Arlé as she uttered this. Harry felt compelled to answer her definitively with, "Fulminis," but Malfoy snarled at her, breaking the trance, and the light receded. "Not yet..." she whispered sadly, and Malfoy dropped his hand from Arlé's.
"What...?" Harry asked, wondering what he had said. She jumped at the sound of his voice and her eyes clouded with confusion.
"What?" She asked him and before he could explain, the door creaked open and Snape and Bailey walked in.
Bailey looked down at Malfoy and shook her head. Turning to Snape she said cryptically, "They way they respond is remarkably the same."
"It must be the same thing then. But is it a curse or a potion?"
"Or something else?"
Bailey motioned them inside the office as Madame Pomfrey bustled out into Malfoy's room. They sank into chairs lined up along one side of the wall, wondering if Snape's vicious temper would shine through and grant them both detentions...
"We need to talk." Bailey pulled a chair over in front of them and Snape quickly followed suit. "Why were you out near the Greenhouses?"
Harry looked over at Arlé, who nodded solemnly and began haltingly. "We came outside to discuss something, and I noticed a glint of something near the Greenhouse. We came to investigate."
Snape sneered and said, "But that's not all you have to say, is it? You never go and investigate for the sake of it; there had to have been an ulterior motive."
She looked wide-eyed at Harry and her emerald eyes asked him so many questions, none of which he could answer. She sighed and said, "We read something about Gates in a book... And we saw something flashing and assumed it was a Gate being opened." She paused, knowing immediately that she had made a fatal error and left gaps in her story.
"Why would you assume it was a Gate?" Bailey asked, her bronze eyes narrowing suspiciously, and Harry knew she had cornered them.
Arlé's green eyes flashed in his direction before she answered hesitantly, "I overheard you two and Professor Dumbledore talking about Gates, and sending Parvati home through one."
Snape sighed exasperatedly and snarled, "What else did you hear us talking about?"
She didn't answer, and Snape leaned in closer, pressing his point. "What else?"
She shook her head and said, "Nothing else."
He obviously knew she was lying, but he did not comment further, which surprised Harry greatly.
Bailey diverted the subject and asked, "What book did you read this out of?"
" 'Hogwarts, A History,'" Arlé supplied.
"That book doesn't mention it."
"Yes it does!" Arlé blurted.
Snape and Bailey exchanged a startled look.
"Where?" Professor Bailey asked slowly.
Arlé blushed, "I was able to read the language that the book said no one could decipher..."
"What did it say?"
Arlé recited the entire passage, and Snape and Bailey exchanged another look. "So there were more than four..." Snape hissed.
"This means that You-Know-Who definitely knew about the Gates being opened this weekend..."
As they were speaking, the door creaked open and Professor Dumbledore entered. "I came as soon as Parvati was home and you two hadn't come back... I feared the worst." He acknowledged Harry and Arlé with a nod and asked, "Voldemort sent Malfoy back? I assume in a bad condition."
Bailey nodded. "He is showing the same instincts as Black is, without any link to why or how he is acting this way. He would probably have killed Arlé if we hadn't been there."
Dumbledore looked Arlé over a second time, as if assessing her for wounds, and nodded. "Are you all right?" He asked softly, and she nodded, obviously not trusting her voice.
"I must ask you two, Summer and Severus, to return to the Ball. Who knows what else Voldemort--" Summer and Arlé flinched at the rough sounding name, but Dumbledore continued without amending as Harry usually did around his friends. "--could throw at us even as we speak." He waited until Snape and Bailey had left and then turned to Arlé and Harry with bright blue eyes.
"Potter, Deerflada, would you please come with me? I have a few things to discuss with both of you." He led the way to his office, pausing only to utter the password "Snickers". They followed him up the winding staircase, Harry mindful that he didn't tread on the back of Arlé's dress as they climbed.
As they entered, Fawkes called out a long quavering note in a tone that Harry had never heard before. Fawkes swept from his perch and landed on Arlé's outstretched hand, and she paused for a long moment as if drawing strength from the large bird.
They sank gratefully into the chairs before Dumbledore's desk, Harry reveling in the familiar yet different feel of the place. Here was where he had relived the events of the previous year... Cedric's death, Voldemort's rise, Priori Incantatum, and seeing the shades of his mother and father...
"You must keep this to yourselves," Dumbledore began slowly, tenderly, and Harry looked up. He seemed to understand Harry's feelings about this office.
"Professor, did you hear what I was telling Sum... Professor Bailey and Professor Snape?" Arlé demanded just as softly.
"I did indeed." He steepled his fingers and sank back into his chair, watching Harry more than Arlé. "But I would rather not discuss it now, Deerflada," he continued gently, and she nodded tersely. "We have other more crucial things to discuss.
"Voldemort--" Arlé winced, and he changed it hastily, "--You-Know-Who is on the move. I'm sure that you have felt it in your scar, Harry?"
Harry nodded, remembering the twinges during the Ball. With a sudden surge of memory, he realized that Ron and Hermione would probably be worried about him and Arlé, seeing as how trouble always seemed to find him...
Dumbledore continued, "He is looking for you two. We aren't exactly sure why, but I have some ideas--speculations, you could call them--as to why he is searching for you." He brought an old dusty book onto his desk and set it open to a page. "Can you read this, Arlé?" He asked, putting a long finger on the page and watching intently as her expression changed from sullen to... blank.
"Praecavio hostus opacus, qui retento clavis aci turris. Proelium cim aviusunci; aviusunci feri praepoted grandim..."
"Interpret it for us, please."
She leaned forward, and Harry noticed that the phoenix did so always, cocking his head sideways and appearing to read over her shoulder. "Beware the stranger... dark stranger," she corrected absently, "Who holds the key to the tower... Fight with the lost one, for he will bear great power. Fire, Lightning, and Ice come together as friends... It's a prophesy," she interrupted herself, the red fading from her eyes momentarily. She blinked and sank back into her chair again, rubbing her left temple absently.
"Keep going," Dumbledore suggested, and she looked down at the page again after a full minute of massaging her temples. "Using any means... to create their ends. Drive hard, Fire, though death lurks in you path. Lightning, fear nothing, stand firm, and fight back. Ice thawed is just as strong; Rescue the others and right what was wronged. The Snake's venom will prove not fatal. Eventually the darkness will fall..." She looked away from the book and asked, "Do you think... is this us?" She asked confusedly, rubbing her arm along the phoenix's crest. "Was this entire book written for us?"
"What do you mean?" Harry demanded, taking the book into his lap and trying to read it.
"It would appear so," Dumbledore said in response to Arlé's query.
"Then you're Lightning, Harry, the scar is proof of that. I'm Fire, so who is Ice?"
"This was written to help us?" Harry asked, placing one finger in that page as a temporary bookmark. "Read this then," and he thrust the book to Arlé, pointing at the first page.
She slipped her finger in to mark her place, and began translating, "'I write this, not knowing why I do so, but I know that there will come a time when someone will need to use it, and this will make sense to them.'" She paused for a moment and said, "This book was written by Merlin!" She flipped through the pages, excitement building in her thin body.
Harry caught onto her excitement, and then shuddered as a pain coursed through his scar. "I wish I knew what he is doing," Harry exclaimed, frustrated.
Dumbledore rose to his feet and swept to the door, with a swift glance at Harry, who was massaging his scar absently. "I'll be right back," was all of an explanation he gave, and quickly slipped through the door and down the stairs.
Harry leaned closer to Arlé, determined to see what she saw in the strange letters and symbols on the page. He lost track of time while they sat there, close together, breathing her faint smell that reminded him of autumn, and burning firewood on a chilly night.
Dumbledore swept back in after what felt like minutes to Harry but may have been hours, for all he knew.
"I think it is best if you both return to the Ball right now." He determined tone told Harry that there was no room for argument, and apparently Arlé heard it too. She closed the book tenderly and asked, "Could I take this up to my room first?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "That book should stay here in my office. I'd rather no one else saw it, as it could be infinitely valuable in the near future." His eyes glinted with understanding, however, and he tucked the book away carefully. "You may come up here to study it whenever you wish, but do take mind as to who sees you come up here or hears the password. If you think it can help you, then study it." He motioned them to precede him down the stairs, but stayed behind a moment. Harry could just barely hear him speak to the phoenix, "She is the right one for him."
Harry's ears burned as he and Arlé opened the door and stepped out; did Dumbledore suspect that Harry liked her?
And a more disturbing thought; was it really that obvious?
They entered the Ballroom and quickly found Ron and Hermione but Harry stopped before plunging onto the dance floor, feeling the tenseness in her back as he placed his hand on it. Dumbledore headed directly for Bailey and Snape, and spoke hushed words to them. They nodded understanding and fled out of the Hall, unnoticed except by Harry and Arlé, who watched tensely, and then Dumbledore moved to speak to the pianist, who nodded while playing with both of his hands, eyes firmly intent on the page he was reading.
Harry turned and watched Hermione and Ron for a moment. "I'd say they do make a good couple," he murmured to Arlé.
She nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. "Talk to me," he suggested, and she turned her beautiful head slowly, blinking serenely. He caught his breath unnoticeably and decided, I am in love.
"You don't want to know what I'm thinking about," she responded smoothly, although her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
"When are you going to tell me?" He demanded, grasping her arm.
She looked up at him with her glittering emerald eyes, and said, as if thinking out loud, "But you won't understand..."
He sighed, closing his eyes. Did she realize what she was doing to him?
He let go of her arms and turned from her, ready to stalk away, when he remembered the Time Globe. He spun back, and he could tell by the surprise in her eyes that she remembered the Time Globe well. Some unspoken agreement raced between them, and they remained silent.
Harry caught Hermione's eyes as he swung around to watch his friends, and noticed in her gaze the subtle suggestion that they had better have an explanation for sneaking off "unsupervised." Harry couldn't help but snort at the ridiculousness of that particular drama in light of what had really happened, but when Arlé looked up at him, he shook his head. Harry was quickly finding out that some things were best left unsaid around members of the opposite sex.
Whatever component of the song that had moved them to dance before was not present now, and they stood together and waited for Hermione and Ron to join them.
Dumbledore held up his hands as the band finished playing their song, and as Hermione and Ron came up, he began. "My friends, events have come to pass that can be ignored no further. I would ask all of you to return to your Common Rooms now. I know the Ball has not officially ended yet, but please leave promptly." He paused and turned to McGonogall, who said something to him. "Your Heads of House will be in the Common Room momentarily; please follow your Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl who will lead you back to your Common Rooms."
Hermione turned and looked at him, her eyes questing for knowledge. He motioned towards the Common Room, and she nodded. "Lead the way," she motioned and they joined in the crowd of confused people heading for their Common Rooms.
* * *
She listened as Harry explained to Hermione and Ron the incidents of the night; how they had wandered outside and been consequently ambushed by Malfoy, how he had not been in his right mind, and then about the books, and Erif's innate skill at reading them. Ron appeared shocked at this, and looked at her suspiciously, but Hermione had calmed his fears.
"Ron, she's spoken with me and told me secrets I'd rather not inflict on anyone, but I know she's all right. Lighten up a bit!"
Ron didn't appear thrilled about the concept but then again neither had Hermione, when Erif had explained to her.
"So Malfoy's back?" Ron asked, a look of distaste on his freckled features. "I was hoping that one would stay away, I was almost enjoying life without the old ferret."
"But why is he back?"
Erif spoke up for the first time since Harry had begun the explanation. "I think it may be because You-Know-Who is done with him. Perhaps he has manipulated his mind to the way he wants him to be. And now he's a spy within the midst of Hogwarts..."
"You-Know-Who would have to get him out of here again, to get the information out of him," Harry pointed out.
"He did it once," Erif counterpointed. "He could very well do it again."
Ron frowned, looking around the deserted Common Room as if something in the room could solve this dilemma for him. Finding nothing that could help him, he sighed and asked, "Well, what do you suggest we do?"
She shook her head. "I don't know; and quite frankly, I'm too tired to even think straight about all of this. I don't know what to think any more."
"Well I do," Harry stated decisively, making them all look to him with uncertainty, and a little confusion. "Whatever is wrong with Malfoy ails Snuffles, too, and nobody can figure out what it is. So it's up to us to figure it out." He put his head in his hands suddenly, and Erif could tell by the tightness in his face that he was worried about this idea of his.
"Do you have a plan?" She queried when he faltered.
"Yes. But it's dangerous. And it'll never work." He pushed it aside and rose decisively, covering a well-timed yawn with one hand while rubbing his scar thoughtfully. "I'm going to bed now, I can barely see straight."
"And we still have to get cleaned up," Hermione said, indicating Erif's and her own makeup with distaste.
Erif was glad she hadn't put as much makeup as Hermione had; it appeared that it would take her a fair amount of time to take it off. But once they retreated to the semi darkness of their dorm, Hermione uttered a soft charm and her face was clean again. She quickly performed the charm on Erif but said thoughtfully, "I don't know, I think I like your hair curly like this. And I think Harry does, too."
"Honestly, Hermione, I don't understand why you want him and I to get together. I mean, we're not at all alike..." She trailed off as Hermione pinned her with a piercing stare.
"I see it in both of you... that fierce determination to live, no matter what hinders you, no matter how large the obstacle, you calculate how to get past it. Whether you see it or not, you're both..." she paused, carefully choosing her next words. "Both... made for each other. You and he would be support for each other, an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on... I envy you that connection, but I think even Snape would agree that you were made for each other. And that's saying something."
Hermione's mouth twitched upward and she drew Erif into a very different embrace from the kind Harry had given her.
"Hermione, how can I ever repay you?"
"Keep Harry safe. Just keep him safe..."
Erif promised that she would.
(*A/N) Please write what you think! I want to hear if you like it, hate it (nicely, please!!) and if you want me to continue!! Please review!!!!)