The next morning Harry found Rory. He needed to talk to her, and it wasn't just about Tracey and Malfoy.
"Rory, we need to talk."
"What about, lover boy?" she asked teasingly.
"Not so loud!" he whispered. "Shut up."
"Sure thing, Harry. What do you want to talk about?"
"Come away from them," Harry was sure that Ron, Hermione, and most importantly Renata had not heard any of what Rory had said, but he was taking no chances.
"So how did things go with Malfoy yesterday when you disappeared from the library?"
"How did you know that's where I was? I didn't tell the others."
"They said you vanished and I had a feeling I knew why. Thanks for confirming my suspicions."
He'd been caught by another one of Rory's tricks: a question that doesn't sound like a question! He'd have to watch out. "So how did you know?"
She thought for a minute. "You mean how did I know about how you feel about Ren? That's easy."
"Well?"
She grinned. "I see the way you stare at her for one thing."
"I don't stare at her," he said, his face turning red.
"Sure you don't." She rolled her eyes. "Next, you avoided her most of the holiday break after Christmas, as though something awkward had happened. You gave her flowers for Christmas. That was really sweet. A true gentleman, really. You endure her teasing and jokes, stuff I know you wouldn't put up with for just anybody."
"But she treated Dan, Joe, and Tim the same way," he pointed out. "And they didn't stop being friends with her."
"Oh, please. Ren never knew it but they were a little sweet on her for a while. Eventually it became like she was there sister but for a while." She grinned, "They liked her. I know they did. Ren just didn't recognize it because she thought that those three liked Ellie instead. They did, actually. But her too, for a long while." Her smile suggested she thought the entire thing was very funny and that she knew more than Harry, which she probably did.
Harry didn't say anything.
"So? Did anything happen over Christmas?"
Harry muttered under his breath.
"What stupid dare? The one that was going to get you back on the Quiditch team? I should have known." She looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.
"Cut it out. They'll see you and want to know what's the matter."
"Not likely. Everybody's watching Ren and Ron play Chess. Hey! Ren is winning. Let's go watch," she immediately grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his seat and across the room with her.
The spectators seemed to consist of two groups: one rooting for Ron, the other for Renata. Hermione seemed unable to decide who she wanted to win. Harry was in much the same dilemma, in the end he picked Ron. Picking Ron just about evened out the numbers and from there he could see Renata. Though this last reason was just a plus, not the main reason. Ron was his best friend. *******************************************************
A week passed and each night one of the four of them took turns reading from Myths and Legends of the Wizarding World. It was to no avail. They couldn't find a thing.
It was Saturday and they were walking down the hall together discussing their problems.
"I know it's in the book somewhere," Hermione insisted. "I know it is. We just need time to find out where. More time!"
"We'll find it, Hermione," said Ron gently. "We've got to, for Hagrid."
"But it must be in here."
Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw someone tailing them. He had an idea of who it was, but he didn't say anything about the mysterious footpad.
Renata said vehemently, "The blasted Green Flame Torch. I can't believe it! It exists. And now it's probably in the hand of Darkfriends, I mean Deatheaters. Sorry, I've been reading to much Robert Jordan lately. And I want to know how Pumblechook fits in with all this. It doesn't make sense!" ********************************************************
Sunday morning, Harry received mail from one of the school owls. It was a nondescript envelope. He opened the envelope to find a page torn that had been torn out of a book.

The first mentions of the Green Flame Torch date back to Morgan le Fay
around a thousand years past. Speculation says that she made it but it
was eventually stolen from her or given by her to Nimue who later
imprisoned Merlin. Some theories suggest that Merlin was not actually
contained within the tree or transformed into it but was actually at
the site transported to another dimension. In this dimension it is
believed his powers did not work (or had possibly been absorbed by the
Green Flame Torch) and he was the only person there. Many other such
dimensions are believed to exist and are spoken of in ancient texts
though because the Green Flame Torch has been missing for so long none
is certain of their existence.

On the bottom of the page was scribbled,

Pumblechook tortures Muggles, Mudbloods, and Pure-Bloods alike. His real name is Lars Liechtenstein. He may be mentally unstable and can only partly control his magic. He was expelled from Hogwarts 48 years ago.
My Debt is Paid

This was exactly the sort of thing they needed. Only, how was he supposed to explain his information to the others without revealing his source?
"Harry? What's that?" Ron asked.
"Oh. Anonymous letter. But I think it's what we need. There must have been somebody following us yesterday when we were talking." Harry tore the last line from the paper. There would be no way to explain that to his friends. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Renata passed the letter around. Harry was relieved that none of them appeared to recognize Malfoy's writing on the bottom part.
Hermione bit her lip. "I want to know what book this came from. I'm going to the library."
Ron volunteered, "I'll join you."
Renata nodded. "Harry and I will be along in a few minutes."
"Okay. " Ron and Hermione left.
"Walk with me, Harry. We'll take the longer way to the library."
Harry stood. "No, er, we should just follow them."
"I don't think so. You're coming with me." She took his arm and pulled him along. He offered little resistance. Her grip was like a vice and he couldn't leave if he wanted to. If.
"So why is it that Malfoy helped get this information?"
Harry's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb, Harry. You're not very good at it. You know what I'm talking about. I recognized Malfoy's writing at the bottom of the page. And I know he heard our conversation yesterday."
He didn't respond.
"I'm waiting, Harry. I've got all day." She pulled him to the ground and held on to his arm even more tightly. "See? You aren't going anywhere until you tell me."
"Just a matter of solving a debt."
"What debt?"
"I'm not telling you. You'll laugh."
"At him or at you? At you, I'm sure." The silence stayed for nearly five minutes. "Okay. Um, you're not talking, that must mean it would have embarrassed him and not you. If it were you, you would have cracked by now. You're a good guy, Harry. Won't even embarrass an enemy. We all know Malfoy deserves it. So, not even a hint about what he did wrong?"
"He didn't do anything wrong, not this time. Once in a while he's an almost half-decent person."
"So that's it, you caught him in an act of kindness." She studied his face. Finally she said, "The Tracey girl. That's it. So what about her?" she ended in a mutter. She took out her wand and recited the spell for minding reading.
Harry didn't like this one bit. He could almost feel her probing in his mind, searching for what she was looking for. Finally it was over. He wished she hadn't become so adept at this spell.
"Hmm. Interesting. Apparently Malfoy is an almost half-decent guy. Helping Tracey when those boys were picking on her. So that's where you disappeared when we were researching in the library. You're a nice person, Harry." She smiled. She seemed like she meant it.
"So, will you let go of my arm?" He wasn't going to admit that it was starting to go numb.
"Oh. Right. Sorry." She looked like she may have been blushing the tiniest bit but the lighting was bad it and it was hard to tell. She let go of him. "Come. We've got to go help Ron and Hermione."
Harry nodded and followed her, wondering what else she'd read in his mind. "I hate that."
"What?" she asked this as though she'd done nothing wrong.
"You read my mind before and I told you not to do that!"
"Well I wouldn't have to if you'd just say what's going on, it's so obvious! If you think I'm blind and deaf Harry James Potter you are very much mistaken." She'd gotten angry and said his name as though it were a single word, and a swearword at that.
They were silent until they reached the library as they stepped inside Renata whispered furiously, "Not one word!" She put on a big smile. "Hi, Ron, Hermione. Any luck so far?"
"No. Not a clue what book it came from."
"I looked at the letter again," Renata told them. "I.didn't recognize the writing. Sorry."
"That's okay, Renata. You tried. Let's look for more books. I'll start on this shelf. You take that one. And Harry, start over there."

It was after classes on Tuesday and Harry passed Sirius in the hall.
"Harry, how are you?"
"Fine. I'm fine." He kept walking.
Sirius backtracked to Harry and took his arm. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Harry, you've been a bit distracted in class lately."
"No, I haven't."
"Yes, you have. I've seen you. Half the time you're daydreaming and the rest of the time you're looking at a certain Gryffindor girl." Sirius grinned.
"No, I'm not." Harry felt his face go red and he tried to look away. If Sirius and Rory had noticed who knew who else had?
"Yes, you have. Valentine's is just around the corner. Tomorrow." He grinned again. "You should tell her how you feel. I've seen some of the other boys around the school looking at her. Apparently you aren't the only one who thinks she is special."
"What if she only wants to be friends, Sirius? Then, if I say something I look like an idiot."
"There's only one way for you to find out, Harry. More likely than not I think it'll have a happy ending."

That night Harry tried to right a letter, or rather a Valentine's Card for Renata.

-------------------------------
You're pretty.
You're smart.
You're a Quiditch player.
And you're a complete pain in the neck.
Maybe that's why I like you so much.
The truth is, I can't tell you who I am.
Cause you terrify me.
That's all for now.
-------------------------------

Harry didn't think his card was very good. And what he wrote could hardly be called poetry. But it was what it was. But he was not going to tell her it was from him. And he wasn't going to tell his friends he wrote it at all. He'd send it through a school owl. That was anonymous enough. He took it to the Owlery before he went to sleep and he hoped he wouldn't regret it in the morning.