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Harry Potter and the Psychic Serpent

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Chapter Twelve

The Ram and the Dragon

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As promised, Hagrid brought snakes to their Care of Magical Creatures lessons after the geese. Harry was disappointed, though; they were about the same size as Sandy and about as informative. They could all predict what was going to happen in the immediate vicinity in the next few minutes, but precious little else. As these predictions usually consisted of who was going to speak, or sometimes what they were going to say, Harry disregarded it for the most part, but a couple of times he had a fun time making Draco Malfoy think he could read his mind. The expression on Malfoy's face had been priceless, but Hermione peered at him suspiciously again, so he stopped before she started asking about the Sight. Ron seemed to have forgotten about it after his leg healed and had mercifully not brought it up again.

A week later Harry was pleased to see a really large snake as they approached Hagrid's hut. They had moved on from very small snakes to very large. Hagrid evidently did not believe in medium-sized snakes.

"Come on!" he said as they approached what appeared to be a large glass-walled room with no roof in what had been the goose-yard. "Professor Dumbledore made this fer me ter keep the boa constrictor in, so's it can't hurt no one."

Malfoy looked skeptically at the glass enclosure. "And we're supposed to learn about the care of this snake by staring at it through glass, hmm?" he drawled.

"Well—" Hagrid hemmed and hawed.

"Can I go in?" Harry asked. "You know—to talk with it?"

"Well—" Hagrid said again. Malfoy seemed annoyed that Harry might seem braver than he was. Harry assumed that Hagrid was reluctant because another thing Harry had done with the smaller snakes was ask them how they liked it at Hogwarts and they'd all been unanimous that they hated it; it was too cold, they didn't like the food and the owls flying about gave them the willies. Harry had suggested to Hagrid that he change their diet and find a way to keep them warmer and to shield them from the owls. Hagrid had been rather cross about the extra work that this created for him. Now Hagrid seemed worried that Harry was going to find a way to make still more work for him to accommodate the whims of this snake. As much as he liked Harry, he didn't seem very happy to have a Parselmouth for a student.

"Please let him, Hagrid?" Hermione pleaded. "What if he finds out something really interesting?"

Hagrid grimaced; between the two of them he was hard pressed to refuse. "All righ', all righ'. Fer jes' a minute."

Harry looked at Malfoy and gave him a smirk before going to the door, which Hagrid unlocked for him. He stepped in slowly, not wanting to alarm the snake. Harry remembered the very civilized conversation he'd had with a boa constrictor in the zoo when he was not quite eleven, before he knew he was a wizard. The snake had told him it had never been to Brazil. Then Harry had unintentionally made the glass disappear that confined the snake, and it had seen his cousin Dudley. Dudley looked like lunch. Harry had tried many times since then not to wish that Dudley had been the boa's lunch that day, but it was sometimes difficult. Harry realized that he hadn't had that thought for some time now that he and Dudley had become friends—and then he remembered that he was going to write to Dudley at school, and he'd been at school for seven weeks without once writing to him. I should do that later.

Right now, he wanted to pay close attention to the snake. When he entered the enclosure it lifted its head and peered at him, expressionless, and Harry tried not to think how much it resembled Voldemort. He was aware of the Slytherins and other Gryffindors watching through the glass. His heart began to thump very loudly in his chest; he realized that he'd never actually been near a snake this large, other than Voldemort's snake; it was even bigger than the one Malfoy had conjured during the dueling club in second year. (Come to think of it, Snape had whispered something in Malfoy's ear right before he'd conjured the snake…) Harry shook his head. He needed to concentrate.

"Hello," he hissed at the snake. It gazed fixedly at him. "I'm called Harry Potter. Do you have a name?"

"What is a name?" the snake hissed back, uncoiling and advancing across the enclosure toward him.

Brilliant, thought Harry. I have to explain this again. He'd already explained it to the other snakes Hagrid had provided for them to study. It was getting a bit old.

"Never mind. Listen, I have a snake who's a friend of mine, and she told me that snakes have the Sight. Have you had any glimpses of the future?"

The snake stopped moving toward him, for which Harry was grateful. It seemed like it might be thinking. "Many will go, but few will stay," it hissed.

"Many will go, but few will stay," Harry whispered to himself. What did it mean? And how far into the future could a snake this size See? He asked it.

"Moons..." it hissed, as if it were sleepy. Harry decided that it must mean months.

"How many moons?" he wanted to know.

But it merely said, "Moons,." again. Well, thought Harry, that must mean more than one. So, a minimum of two months. He asked it about how it liked Hogwarts, as he had done with the other snakes. He'd done this so that he could tell Hagrid and the others something that had been said; he still wasn't interested in divulging that snakes had the Sight. He preferred it to remain his secret.

He stepped out of the enclosure when Hagrid had unlocked it again and informed Hagrid of what the snake said it wanted to eat. When they were on their way to Herbology afterward, Hagrid called after them, "And exactly where, Harry, am I supposed to get an ocelot?"

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Harry tried to ask the boa about the future again on Thursday when they once more had Care of Magical Creatures. This snake was a little more informative than the smaller ones, but he would have liked knowing how many months into the future it was seeing, and what it meant by Many will go, but few will stay. The second time he tried getting something out of the snake it gave him a different prophecy.

"The masters will be servants and the servants will be masters."

Harry repeated what it had said, and wrote it on all of his notes in every lesson he had for the rest of the day. What does it mean? he wondered. He could hope that perhaps the first prediction meant that Hagrid's mother's friends would come initially, but most of them would go. Then he realized that their going might mean their joining Voldemort—so he didn't hope that. This was confusing. Snake predictions were so strange and vague. Some Sight, Harry thought. They all need spectacles for their Inner Eye, he decided.

Ginny had stopped running with him and Hermione in the morning. It was growing colder as Halloween approached and they had taken to doing their running around the large Great Hall before breakfast. They didn't really talk, and when they were with Ron (which they were at all other times) they tried to be normal with each other, but Harry could tell that Ron still was on edge about their friendship being so changed.

Harry had been doing extra work in potions, as he'd said he would, and when he did he frequently encountered Draco Malfoy and Ginny, and sometimes Neville. He tried to keep an eye on Malfoy and Ginny without making it seem that that was what he was doing. Their interactions (when he was around) seemed fairly innocuous, but he was still suspicious of what might go on when no one else was around. He tried to ask Colin Creevey about Ginny, in an oblique way, so he wouldn't get suspicious. He learned that Ginny was always with the other fourth years when she wasn't in the common room or the potions dungeon. There didn't seem to be times when her whereabouts were unaccounted for, times when she could possibly be meeting Draco Malfoy on the sly. Harry hoped Colin was right. He dreaded something happening between her and Malfoy and Ron finding out that Harry had known something. He'd be liable to kill Harry first before going after Malfoy.

On Saturday he and Hermione had another date in Hogsmeade with Viktor Krum and Cho Chang. He'd also been making time to spend with Cho Chang, walking through the corridors holding her hand, as he'd seen her do with Cedric the previous year. A few times they met at the greenhouses to snog a little. He tried to cut these sessions as short as possible, feeling guilty for several reasons simultaneously: he didn't want to lead Cho on any more than absolutely necessary; he felt (though she'd pushed him into it) that he was being unfaithful to Hermione; and, sometimes, when he found himself enjoying it a little, it made him think of what Ginny had said and he felt guilty about her instead. I'll be glad when this is over, he thought repeatedly. They were going to an opera performance in the village on Saturday. Viktor had bought tickets to a matinee of Dido and Aeneas, performed by a company of witches and wizards who were evidently world famous. It was a traveling production. Hermione informed him excitedly that there were witches and wizards in it (characters), and that he needn't worry about not being able to understand what was being sung since it was in English.

She told Harry more about it while he and Ron played chess in the common room. "It's got some really beautiful arias and choruses. When Queen Dido sings her death aria—"

"Hermione!" Harry groaned. "You've just told me that one of the title characters dies."

Ron shrugged. "It's an opera. Everyone probably dies."

"No," said Harry, thinking of the essay he'd written for Moody. "That's Hamlet. In operas, I thought it was just the people you like best who die. To punish you for going."

Hermione scowled. "I saw an amazing production of Aida in Greece last summer."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Just when we thought you couldn't be more of a wally. Prefect and opera buff." But he stopped short when he saw the hurt expression on Hermione's face and made a hasty move that resulted in Harry's knight clubbing his bishop on the head and dragging him off the board.

Before lessons on Wednesday Harry had sent a letter to Dudley by owl post, and when he went to the common room after lessons on Friday, Hedwig was waiting for him with a reply.

Dear Harry,

Thanks for writing. But next time, send Hedwig at night. I'll keep my window open. My roommate doesn't mind. Hedwig showed up in the middle of Biology. We were getting white mice to run through a cardboard maze to see whose mouse would get to the cheese in the middle first. Mine was a bloody punter. Then when Hedwig came flying in, she thought it was a buffet. All those mice! You should have heard the screaming and seen the blood flying. She was cool! I acted like a big owl-expert and led her out of the lab. The professor never noticed that she had a letter attached to her leg. I took her up to my room and gave her another mouse I nicked on the way out. She seemed happy enough.

How's Hermione? When's she going to write? I included a letter for her too. DON'T OPEN IT! I'm still running. I've started lifting weights, too. Everything's all right, but I think my roommate's stealing from me. I haven't caught him yet, though.

Tell Hermione to write to me!

Dudley

Harry gave Hermione her letter while Ron frowned and tried to read over her shoulder. She held it against her chest, not letting him. Ron went off in a huff, and Harry asked her what the big deal was. She laughed.

"Nothing. I'm just winding him up."

Harry looked at Ron's retreating back. "It's working." What, he wondered, would have happened if Ron had caught them in the Charms classroom either time? He decided he didn't want to think about that. He remembered when Ron wouldn't talk to him, almost exactly a year ago, after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. Ron had refused to believe that Harry hadn't put his own name in until after the first task, when he had flown on his broom to get past the Hungarian Horntail, the most fearsome of the four dragons the Champions had to face. He didn't want to lose his best friend again. Maybe Ron was the one they should be fixing up—but he remembered what a disaster it had been to fix him up with Padma Patil for the Yule Ball. All Ron had noticed that night was Hermione. Hermione with Viktor Krum. Hermione looking more beautiful than she'd ever looked before. And though Harry knew this, at the time he had taken merely an academic interest in it; his main focus had been Cho Chang, much to Parvati's chagrin. He was glad he had finally apologized to her.

Harry wrote another letter to Dudley, asking Hermione whether she wanted to send a letter of her own with it.

"I've got some Arithmancy to do, but I can write a short note to Dudley first. Sounds like Hedwig made quite a splash in his biology lesson." Harry smiled and agreed. Then he realized that he'd been staring fixedly at her for a full minute and turned away, reddening. He glanced back at her, seeing a rosy glow on her cheeks as well, as she dug in her bag for a blank piece of parchment. He knew that he'd been thinking about those two times in the Charms classroom. Has she been thinking about that, too? he wondered.

After dinner, the common room emptied a little at a time. Finally only Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione and the twins were still in the room. The twins were discussing future plans for the half of the Triwizard Tournament money their dad had invested for them. Ron and Ginny were playing chess, with Harry watching. She was the only one he'd ever seen beat Ron at chess, and he was determined to find out how she was doing it. He watched her as she played, her glowing hair falling in her face at times, making her push impatiently behind her ears. A determined expression was in her deep brown eyes, two little lines forming between her brows when she was frowning, deep in thought. After a while, Harry forgot he was trying to learn her chess strategy, he was so fascinated by examining her. She glanced up and caught his eye, her expression changing to an angry scowl. Harry lowered his eyes to the board. Why should she be cross with me for looking at her? he thought. He didn't dare glance up at her again for a while.

Hermione had a sudden thought, and looked up from her Arithmancy work. "Harry! The time. Weren't you going to send that letter to Dudley?"

He went to the table where she was working. "Yeah, but I thought I'd do it later. I can use the Invisibility Cloak to avoid being caught by Filch. I don't want Hedwig showing up at Smeltings again when there are a lot of people about to see her."

She nodded. "Good idea."

Ginny cried, "Checkmate! Good try, Ron. Better luck next time."

Ron stared at the board. "But how—what—?"

Ginny pointed. "Your king is stuck, see? If he stays there, my rook gets him, and if he moves to any of the spaces around him, he's caught by my queen, bishops or knights. And your lot can't get any of mine." Ron still stared, dumbfounded. Harry wished he'd seen the last few moves she'd made to accomplish this rout. She amazed him more every day.

While putting the chessmen away Ron failed to stifle a huge yawn. "I think I'd better get upstairs before I fall asleep on the chess board and wake up with angry pawns stuck to my face."

Ginny said goodnight and went up the stairs, giving Harry a funny look just before disappearing. What was that? Harry thought. Had she gone completely in the opposite direction, from fancying him to hating him? Had Draco Malfoy poisoned her mind against him?

The twins and Ron both went up the stairs and Harry followed, calling good night to Hermione, still bent over her work.

"Good night," she said distractedly, not meeting his eyes. He went to his dormitory, changed into his pajama trousers and lay on top of his covers, pulling the curtains closed around him. As he waited for time to pass, he fingered the basilisk amulet resting on his bare chest, wondering what he would do if Ginny turned against him and her whole family and…became Dark. It gave him a dreadful, empty feeling in his chest, like when he first saw Cedric after he was killed, feeling responsible, feeling helpless and alone.

Harry finally felt that it was late enough. He'd dozed off for a little while, jerking himself awake to continue to wait. Neville was snoring and Ron mumbled in his sleep. Seamus and Dean were quiet sleepers, but he thought he heard rustling as one of them turned over in bed. He opened his bed curtains and went to his trunk, removing his invisibility cloak. He put on his dressing gown and tied the belt, carrying the cloak under his arm and remembering to slip his wand into his pocket, as a safety measure. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he was momentarily taken aback; someone was in an armchair near the fire.

"Took you long enough, Harry," Hermione said, peering around the wing of the chair, smiling. He sighed with relief. She stood. "How exactly were you going to mail your letter and mine when I've got both of them still?" she said, not making fun of him exactly, but coming close, he felt. She smiled again and Harry had to smile too. She wore a knee-length night shirt that buttoned down the front, a pink chenille dressing gown and matching fuzzy slippers. He had simply slipped his feet into his trainers without socks, not owning a pair of slippers. The Dursleys thought of such things as frills (for him, not for themselves) and he hadn't thought of purchasing slippers when he'd had a few pounds from the landscaping.

"I thought you'd want to come along," he said lightly.

"It has been a while since we've been skulking about in the middle of the night. And now that we're prefects, we could claim to be patrolling."

"Yes, patrolling without being asked, and wearing an Invisibility Cloak. That's plausible."

She walked toward the portrait hole, laughing. "Come on. Before I lose my nerve." They climbed out and closed the portrait, putting the cloak over themselves. They walked closely together to the Owlery; Harry tried not to think about how they'd been avoiding being alone. They'd gone around together under the cloak loads of times before, and for reasons far more dangerous than posting letters. But now they'd had the Charms classroom…

They reached the Owlery without incident. Harry took the cloak off them and tied the letters to Hedwig's leg, sending her on her way. He remembered when he'd been there with Ginny, sending the note to Cho, how Ginny had implied that she was over him though she'd later been crying on Draco Malfoy because she'd seen him kiss Cho Chang. He turned from the window to smile at Hermione, feeling oddly that she was one of the least complicated parts of his life. He felt happy when he was with her and she seemed to feel the same; he didn't know what he felt about Ginny, or she about him, and he knew unequivocally that he didn't feel anything for Cho. He knew that in some ways the most complicated thing he could do was to be with Hermione, but he tried not to think about Ron and Viktor Krum and Voldemort.

They put the cloak back on to leave. This time, Harry put his right arm around her shoulder to bring her closer to him and, not looking at him, she put her left arm around his waist. Then they turned a corner and saw—Mrs. Norris. She walked toward them, her eyes glowing as if she could see them. (Harry had yet to determine whether Mrs. Norris could see through Invisibility Cloaks, like Mad Eye Moody.) They pressed themselves against a wall and watched her pass, but before she was past them completely she turned her head and seemed to look directly at them. They started to move again after she'd gone around a corner, when, to their horror, Filch appeared at the end of the corridor. He brandished a mop, specifically like he was trying to ferret out people under Invisibility Cloaks, swinging it around wildly. Harry's heart thudded in his chest so hard it hurt. If Filch kept that up, when he reached them the mop would definitely make contact. On the other hand, Harry was afraid that moving away from Filch down the corridor would produce noise. He looked down at Hermione, in case she had any brilliant suggestions.

A sudden crash sounded like a suit of armor, most likely falling to bits from the volume of the racket. Filch whirled, brandishing the mop, and went running, presumably in the direction of the armor-noise. Harry heaved a sigh of relief. He and Hermione proceeded to the portrait-hole without further incident.

Once in the common room again, Hermione threw herself into the armchair by the fire where he'd found her earlier. She put her hand over her heart, trying to catch her breath. "Harry," she said slowly, "I'm think I'm getting too old for this."

Harry laughed, sitting on the hearthrug and leaning against the front of her chair. Her legs were beside his shoulder. She kicked off her slippers and held her bare feet out to the fire. It was becoming drafty in the castle to walk about without socks at night. He turned, thinking, Even her feet are pretty. He reached out without thought and touched her foot, stroking the top, forgetting that it was attached to her, simply following the line with his finger, up to her ankle and back to her toes. But Hermione was not able to behave as if it weren't attached to her; she shuddered and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and sighing. Harry gazed up at her and decided, Okay, she likes that. He used both his hands now, caressing and stroking her feet, while she gripped the arms of the chair and sighed again, her eyes still closed. He smiled. He was driving her mad and loving every minute of it. She had very sensitive feet.

Then she started moving. She stood and took a step forward, sitting on the floor in front of the chair, beside him, also leaning against the chair. Harry put his arm around her again and she leaned her head on his shoulder, his cheek on top of her head.

At first he didn't notice her hand on his leg, tracing lazy circles, then he became acutely aware of it, wishing both that she would stop and that she would never stop. He thought he was going insane (clearly she thought it was her turn to drive him mad). He lifted his head and looked at her, finding her looking back. He remembered being in the garden when Sirius had come, their mouths moving closer and closer, and then Sandy speaking. But this time Sandy said nothing, wrapped around his arm under his dressing gown, and their lips touched briefly, tentatively, before Harry spasmodically clutched at her and held her face up to his. She pulled him to her, her fingers entwined in his hair, both of them forgetting any reason not to do this, any reason to show restraint.

Harry broke the kiss, but only to move his mouth down her neck, to duck under her chin and run his tongue down her throat, to hear that moaning sound again she'd made in the Charms classroom. Her hand went to the belt of his dressing gown, he felt her hands on his chest, then her lips, tracing a moist trail down his stomach, making his abdominal muscles flinch. He gasped at the sensation, bringing her face up to his again, holding her tightly, desperately. His fingers deftly undid the buttons down the front of her nightshirt, her hand went to the drawstring on his pajamas. Harry felt he was drowning in her and didn't want to be saved, couldn't imagine anything more wonderful in the world than to sink down into this whirlpool called Hermione…

"A ram will meet a dragon," said Sandy suddenly. Damn! Harry thought. He was seriously reconsidering the wisdom of having a snake. Harry raised his head and listened; Hermione didn't notice at first, kissing his shoulder, caressing the sensitive skin on his back. What can Sandy mean? he wondered. Who was going to meet whom? But he knew one thing; whatever was going to happen, it would in the immediate vicinity and soon. If they weren't careful they would be caught. She finally noticed that he was no longer touching or kissing her; she frowned, perplexed. He seemed to be listening intently to the large empty room around them.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

He swallowed and gazed at her. She was so beautiful in the firelight, her cheeks flushed and her curls askew. "Button your shirt and tie your dressing gown. We need to get into separate chairs. Someone's coming." He rose and put his dressing gown on his shoulders again and seated himself in a chair a couple of feet away from the one she'd been sitting in. She frowned, looking as she had in the garden on Privet Drive again. She buttoned her nightshirt. (Harry's hands had been inside it; he tried not to think about that, with a shiver.) She tied her dressing gown belt and put her slippers on, sitting in the chair with her legs drawn up once more. Harry hadn't bothered to tie his dressing gown; he was very warm. Hermione gazed at him, at his bare chest with the basilisk amulet, and he thought she made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.

"Are you going to explain this to me or not, Harry Potter?" Uh oh, he thought. I'm in trouble. Full name.

"Like I said. Someone's coming."

She opened her mouth to say something when Ginny appeared at the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. She stopped short at seeing Harry and Hermione sitting by the fire.

"Ginny!" Hermione said, surprised. Harry was too, but when he thought some more, he remembered George and Fred talking about her birthday being April first; that made her an Aries, the sign of the ram. Sandy had called Parvati a fish because she was a Pisces. But there wasn't a sign of the zodiac that had a dragon for a symbol.

Harry opened his eyes wide. Dragon. He knew who it was. He scrambled to his feet, his dressing gown swinging. "Hermione! Take Ginny upstairs! Now!"

Hermione furrowed her brow and rose, too slowly for Harry's taste, but he bit his tongue to keep from barking at her. Ginny protested.

"What? I don't have to—"

"Yes you do," Harry said sternly. "We're prefects. You have to listen to us. Go. I'll talk to him."

Hermione swung her head around. "Talk to who?"

Ginny widened her eyes, panicked that Harry would say. He shook his head at her to reassure her. "Never mind. Just take her. Go. And make certain that she can't come downstairs until morning. Use whatever binding spell you have to, I don't care. Do what you did to Peeves."

"Harry, you know I can't—"

"Just get her out of here!" He finally lost it. Both girls looked at him strangely. Ginny set her jaw defiantly as Hermione grabbed her arm and dragged her back up the stairs. When he heard doors closing in the girls' dorms he went to the portrait hole and opened it, knowing who he would see in the corridor.

Draco Malfoy.

"Potter!"

"Malfoy," Harry said, trying to keep his voice even, to not let rage make his voice shake. "Get in here, before Filch comes by." At the mention of Filch, he scrambled in and Harry closed the portrait again.

"What's going on?" Malfoy demanded.

"You've got nerve, Malfoy. I should be asking you that. I had Hermione take Ginny back up to her room. You're not meeting her tonight or any night. Are you out of your mind? Are you trying to get her in trouble?" Harry stopped, wishing he hadn't used that turn of phrase.

"We were just going to talk. We never get to be alone to talk. Whenever we're in the Potions Dungeon either you or Longbottom or both are there. We haven't been able to talk alone in a fortnight."

"Why do you need to talk to her alone?" He felt incredibly close to committing murder.

"I don't need to—well, okay, maybe I do—I—I want to—" he trailed off. He frowned at Harry. "You're not one of her brothers."

"No, and you should thank your lucky stars for that, because any of them would be happy to pull your intestines out through your ears right now. And that's without knowing that you were planning to sneak around with Ginny in the middle of the night."

Malfoy's jaw was set. "I know that my family and Ginny's have bad blood between them, but I would never do anything to hurt her. I—look, I don't feel comfortable talking to you of all people about how I feel about Ginny. Do you think I planned this? A Weasley? Don't you think I tried to talk myself out of this? But—" He glared up at the ceiling, his mouth in a line.

"You don't have to tell me that Ginny's a fantastic girl. I know that. She may not think I know, but I do," Harry said, remembering Malfoy telling her that Harry wasn't worth her obsessing over after he'd ignored her for three years. "But if you've got some romantic notion about the two of you being Romeo and Juliet, get rid of it now. Romeo and Juliet had it easy compared to you two, and look what happened to them." Malfoy grimaced, silently acknowledging that Harry was right (but not willing to say so). "This isn't the time or place to discuss it. I want you to promise me that you'll be content with seeing her in the Potions Dungeon for now. Promise?" Malfoy mumbled a reluctant affirmative. "Good. Now wait here. I have to get something."

Malfoy frowned but stayed where he was. Harry ran to his dorm and reappeared with a piece of parchment. He put it on a table, and when Malfoy started to approach him, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at him. "Back off, Malfoy. Stay over there. You don't need to see this. In fact, turn around." Malfoy stood his ground and they glared at each other. Harry was not going to look away first. Finally, Malfoy grimaced and turned his back to Harry. Harry waved his wand over the parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The map of Hogwarts appeared on the parchment and Harry was quickly able to locate the dots in the Gryffindor common room with the minuscule labels Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. There were also some tiny dots in the Trophy Room labeled Ernest MacMillan and Hannah Abbott. Harry grinned; All right, Ernie and Hannah! But then he thought of Hermione and shook himself. There; he'd found what he was seeking. In the entrance hall was a dot labeled Argus Filch. He waved his wand over the parchment again, saying, "Mischief managed," and rolled it up and put it in the pocket of his dressing gown. He walked back over to Malfoy.

"Here's the thing," he said. "When you're going back, avoid the entrance hall. That's where Filch is. And also, don't go in the Trophy Room; you might, ah, disturb some people there."

"How do you know?" Malfoy said suspiciously.

"I just do. I know you don't want to trust me, but you don't have a choice." They glared at each other again and Malfoy laughed ruefully.

"If anyone had told me that I'd be here talking to you in the middle of the night… All right. Avoid the entrance hall. I almost got caught by Filch once already. I took out a suit of armor on the third floor and I heard him come running."

Harry laughed now. "That was you? I should thank you. Filch almost walked into me and Hermione coming back from posting a couple of letters. That armor created just the diversion we needed."

Malfoy's eyebrows shot up. "Granger? So there is something between you? Wait—you said she took Ginny to her dorm. You two were here, weren't you? When Ginny came downstairs." He eyed Harry shrewdly. "Ruined your night, did I?" He looked at Harry's pajamas. "Your trousers are untied. Did you do it or did she? And did she give you this?" He picked up the basilisk from Harry's chest. Harry knocked his hand away.

"As a matter of fact, that was a birthday gift from Ginny." He challenged Malfoy with his eyes to say anything about that. "I think you should leave before Filch moves on to another part of the castle," he said evenly, making a great effort to remain in control. But Malfoy wasn't done.

"You're so self-righteous, so high and mighty about me and Ginny, and here you are with Granger on the hearthrug in the middle of the night…"

Harry couldn't take it any longer; he pushed Malfoy against the wall and spoke with his mouth very close to his face. "Nothing happened. You don't know anything."

Malfoy pushed him off. "Harry Potter, hypocrite. Some things never change, do they? Nothing happened because Ginny and I interrupted you, and that's probably the only reason. I can't believe you…"

"This is different," Harry hissed. "And you have to remember: Ginny's a year younger than us. You—you have to have self-control—" Harry couldn't go on, he was shaking so badly. The thought of Malfoy and Ginny doing anything remotely similar to what he and Hermione had been doing was making him feel ill.

To his surprise, Malfoy nodded. "I know that. I would never—you may not believe it, but she is safe with me. Really." Harry looked at him, never remembering Malfoy sounding so straightforward and sincere.

"All right. Like I said, this isn't the time or place. You'd better go. Avoid the entrance hall."

"Right," Malfoy said, opening the portrait and climbing through the hole. "But not because of Filch. He's a pussycat compared to Snape."

"Snape? Are you kidding? As far as he's concerned, no one in his house can do anything wrong."

"Hmph. That's only how he acts around students from other houses. If any of us gets points taken from our house… You don't want to know. And he's a pussycat compared to my dad."

"That I believe," Harry said, shuddering.

"Yeah. I'm glad Moody's planning to teach us how to cope with the Cruciatus Curse. Then maybe when I upset my dad, he won't know I can't feel what he's doing..."

Harry dropped his jaw. "Your dad put Cruciatus on you?"

"No, you berk. But there are plenty of legal curses that are still—extremely painful." He'd been looking at Harry but now turned away; he'd said too much. He decided to change the subject. "So. How far'd you get with Granger?"

"Don't push it, Malfoy. I'm not talking to you about Hermione. Do you want me to get all of Ginny's brothers down here? Plus, there's plenty of other blokes in Gryffindor who'd be pleased to scalp you for what you're thinking about Ginny—I didn't say actually doing, just thinking. And if you deny that you've thought stuff, you must really think I'm stupid."

Malfoy grinned. "Nah. That one's too easy. I'm not even gonna touch it. Like candy from a baby." He turned before closing the portrait. "So; we each have a secret the other one knows about."

"Looks that way."

"Well, Potter, I have to admit—Granger. I don't blame you."

Now Harry had to really restrain himself from hitting Malfoy. It took all the effort he could muster.

"And Ginny," said Harry softly. "I don't blame you, either."

Malfoy nodded and closed the portrait; no goodnight, thanks, or anything else. Harry heard his retreating footsteps and sat in an armchair near the fire again. He stared at the lion on the keystone. In the flickering light it almost seemed to be moving. He closed his eyes and remembered being with Hermione again, by the fire. But that wasn't helping his peace of mind a bit. He fingered the basilisk amulet as he walked up the stairs to his dorm.

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