Kaizer Knuckz (or however you spell it, I'm to lazy to cut-and-paste XD) – I will, XD.
Okay, here goes nothing (again). And I promise I'll fix the earlier chapters on Monday, but then school starts the next day, so don't expect as frequent updates as when the story first got rolling (as if you care…).
Chapter 15: December FlurriesSnow fell, as it never had before, pouring forth from the sky in a surge of pearly-white snowflakes. Hogwarts students huddled inside by warm, glowing fires, dreading the trip across the grounds to Care of Magical Creatures or Herbology. Ron had impressed Harry and Hermione once more by expanding the bubble-head charm to encompass all three of their whole bodies in warm air, making trips across campus no worse than a summer stroll. Quidditch practice had actually been moved inside and now, besides moving stairways and trick steps, Hogwarts students now had to watch out for zooming Quidditch players wielding quaffles.
In the past week, Harry had tried to contact Annette, but she and Moody were off on 'important business for the Order' (although Annette wasn't officially an Order member). Amber had been worse than ever, constantly starting fights in the dormitories. She attended detention nearly every night, and Gryffindor's glass bulb that recorded their house points looked much emptier than the others, as Amber had infuriated most of the teachers, but no real punishments had been exacted on her, making Harry assume that the teachers really did play favorites. Only Snape, however, showed her any genuine kindness, as she fully supported the Slytherin house.
"So, Hermione" said Harry, as the three of them sat down for dinner after a particularly hard Defense Against the Dark Arts class where their zombie teacher had decided that fighting seven-headed Hydras counted as "hands-on learning". "Why haven't we heard much from you about spew this year?"
"It's S.P.E.W.," corrected Hermione, "and I've been working on designing educational pamphlets on the state of house elves."
"Seen Dobby lately?" asked Ron.
"Yes. He's much happier now that Winky's better."
"Winky's better?" asked Harry in surprise. Winky had been very sad and drinking a lot the previous year.
"Yes, she got transferred to working with Filch, who keeps a heavy hand on her just like Mr. Crouch did. I, personally, think it's despicable how he treats her."
"Well, she's happier because of it, isn't she?" said Harry.
"Well, yes."
"So what does she do?" asked Seamus sliding into place on the bench next to Ron. "Is she like Ms. Norris, patrolling the corridors?"
"I think so."
"She is!" said Ernie Macmillan, leaning over from the Hufflepuff table. "She caught me and Hannah in the halls after lights-out. And I heard Amber and the both Malfoys were caught underground and all got detention!"
"Underground? Could they have been doing the same thing as when you followed them?" Ron asked Harry, lowering his voice.
"You mean checking out that crypt place? Maybe… probably. But why would they want to do that again? I mean, they checked the coffin they wanted to, right?"
"What if there's another coffin that has something they're after?"
"Or something else… there were lots of passages down there."
Hermione looked thoughtful.
"Harry, where was the entrance to these caves?"
"Go right from Snape's dungeon, then take the first left… Oy, Hermione, where are you going? Not now…"
But their words were lost as she swept out of the Great Hall, leaving her half-finished plate of stew.
"Hermione?" said Ron weakly.
"Whoa, that's not like her to do something like that! She was telling us it was really dangerous and to forget about it before…"
"Do you reckon we should follow her?"
"Yeah, I guess so…"
Taking one last sip of pumpkin juice each, Harry and Ron rushed out of the Great Hall after the shadow. However, Hermione did not head downwards, she went up towards the library.
"Oh," said Ron as they entered.
"We should've guessed," said Harry, grinning as Madam Prince's cry of "No running in the library!" followed them through shelves and shelves of books.
When they eventually reached Hermione, panting, she was already immersed in Hogwarts: A History.
"I thought you said it didn't matter before," said Harry, sitting down beside her.
"Well, I just thought of something… look at this."
She handed the book over.
During the construction of Hogwarts, a number of passages were discovered below the school. None of them were explored fully, however, most led to crypts. However, there were also certain markings on the wall and the discovery of jewelry that suggested primitive human habitation. Some of the symbols were more arcane and suggested the presence of practitioners of the dark arts, including the Ja'Arci Triangle and the seven-pointed star. As certain explorers progressed deeper into the halls, many suffered strange deaths and still others disappeared, and a few returned so scared that they lost their memory. Due to this, investigations of the passages were discontinued, however, there were a number of sightings of strange shadows of human-like creatures. It is possible that some early humans still live down there.
"Yeah…okay…so, this reveals a little more," said Harry. "But what were you rushing around for?"
Smiling, Hermione pulled out another book entitled Mythical and Rumored Magicks of the Dark Arts: Second Edition. The cover was taken up almost entirely by a gruesome drawing of a demon with a mouth on its stomach as well as its head drenched in blood.
"Where'd you find something like that? I didn't even know they had books like that here!"
"Restricted section. You know, we're allowed to go there now that we're in the NEWT level."
"Oh. So, what does it say?"
She flipped it open to a page she had previously marked. The page was yellowed and spotted with ink and a dark red substance Harry was afraid was blood. The page was covered in a messy scrawl and patches of dirt. The top was labeled Necromancy in what was clearly a failed attempt at a fancy scrawl.
"Necromancy? Isn't that the magic of the dead?" asked Ron in a hushed voice.
"Yup!"
"What does this have to do with the underground caves?" asked Harry.
"Read this…"
'There are a number of symbols important to the art of necromancy', says the First Born of the Cult of the Spider, the only known practitioners of the art. 'The most important symbol to us is the seven-pointed star.' The power of the star is unknown, however many wizards assume that it is more than a simple symbol. It is etched in fire above the sacrificial altar in the in the temple of the Cult of the Spider. Other important symbols and markings are the legendary Ka'Rau Circle, Ja'Arci Triangle and the Yu'Mayas Rune. The latter two of these are used in other magicks, mostly involving the Dark Arts.
"A seven-pointed star painted in fire…? Professor Artemis has one in his classroom!" (I know I said pentagram before, I'll fix it…)
"It's probably keeping him alive… if he's a zombie, that is. What I'm more interested in is the Yu'Mayas rune! We studied that rune in Ancient Runes yesterday… the rune represents feelings of," – Hermione began to rattle off words as if they were in a list in her head – "hate, power, authority, death, massacre, killing, commanding, ruling, unjustness, pain, and trials."
"Wow, that's a lot of feelings put into one rune… How do you know which one it is?"
"Well, it's combined with other runes, Ron, you should really take Ancient Runes; you would like it a lot."
"Well, anyway," said Harry, "this book says 'Mythical and Rumored' – I really doubt this is more than superstition. But what about this cult of the spider?"
"Wait, the spider cult still doesn't exist, does it?" Ron asked Hermione.
"I've never heard of it," said Hermione, "and all this is very speculative, but we might want to look into this."
"You just tried to dissuade me from perusing the issue before!" Harry said, outraged.
"Well, we didn't know about Amber being the daughter of Dumbledore."
Ron looked frightened. Harry could guess why – Ron was terribly afraid of spiders, but from what he had read, spiders weren't part of the cult. Ever since the word "Necromancy" was mentioned, Harry had been amazed at just how white Ron's face could get. Harry was impressed by the range of colors Ron's face was able to produce.
"Well, whatever the case," said Harry, watching the slow progress of blood in Ron's face, "we should get back to the common room, we have that Hydra essay to do."
Just then they felt a gust of wind as two figures riding broomsticks sped over the bookshelves, neatly passing a quaffle back and forth, knocking into hanging lights, which swung wildly, sending a prism of shadows scampering across the floor.
"Out! Out! Not in the library!" yelled Madam Prince, running after the figures that were pulling up to the table where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting.
"Yo," said Ernie Macmillan, landing next to the table.
"Madam Hooch is going to have your head!" said Hannah Abbot, landing on the other side.
"Yeah, practice started ten minutes ago…"
"And Peeves wants to play too…"
"So he was throwing quaffle-shaped water balloons…"
"And Devin got soaked and dripped water all over the Ravenclaw common room…"
"And Adrianne said she'd quit the team if it happens again…"
"And then Crabbe and Goyle threatened to beat her up if she tried…"
"So everyone's sort of mad," finished Ernie lamely.
"Yeah," added Hannah to break the ensuing silence.
"Let's go!" said Ron and Harry together, starting to run down the aisles.
And between two bookshelves stood Madam Prince, a look of pure rage crossing her face. She made for them, wand out, screaming "THIS IS A LIBRARY!" Just as she was about to hit them, they grabbed onto the tails of the Hufflepuffs' brooms and were carried, flailing, over her shrieking head and sailing up towards the Gryffindor common room, dodging bludgers sent by Crabbe, Goyle and Peeves and moving staircases that seemed to be angry at the constant action inside the castle.
Once they got on their own brooms, practice began as usual above the heads of cheering students and disgruntled teachers. The team was actually working well together. Focused on Quidditch, the nine players put away house rivalries and simply played. Harry could even tolerate Crabbe, Goyle and Devin during practice. He could really feel school solidarity, as everyone cheered on the school team. In practice, Harry's worries about Amber, his anger at Devin and his brother and his insecurities about Voldemort, about Dumbledore and about his upcoming mission all blew away, leaving him feeling fresh and ready to simply play Quidditch.
After practice, Harry returned to the common room, flopping back, exhausted, on a beanbag Ron had conjured up in yet another unexpected show of aptitude. He had just begun to write about Hydras when he heard Amber's voice.
"Hey, Harry."
"Hi," said Harry shortly, not daring to look into Amber's face. He still had feelings for Amber, but wanted to remain true to her twin.
"You know about my father, right?"
"How'd you know I know?"
"Oh, well… Just overheard it… You know…"
Harry remained silent. Amber slid down so she was facing Harry directly, smiling up into his eyes, wisps of shining, brown hair blowing across her face. Harry couldn't stop himself from blushing.
"Harry, stop writing that stupid essay and look at me," she said with a short giggle. Harry obeyed.
"Harry, do you like me?"
Boom. The question hit Harry like a gunshot, smashing his head to pieces, so he couldn't think. He didn't know, he was lost, confused… Why? Why did she have to ask him that? How could he say "no" to that face, that face so like her sister's, that face that Harry couldn't understand, couldn't comprehend what was behind it? That innocent, cute half-smile, alluring, alluding to so much more beneath the surface.
"I…I…I don't…" Harry attempted.
"You don't need to say," said Amber.
And suddenly, terribly, beautifully, Amber was upon him, pushing him backwards into the beanbag as her lips forced themselves against Harry's and her body fell upon Harry's unyielding one.
STOP! Think this over! What's wrong? Why is she doing this? NO! Get her off! Run! Hide! Annette! Annette! Think of Annette! Amber, she's just using you. Don' let her do this, fight back!
"Tell me…" whispered Amber, removing her lips from Harry's. "Tell me where the Drakhen is…"
She kissed Harry again. Harry couldn't think, couldn't resist, could only feel Amber's warmth, could smell only her hair, could see only blackness.
"My room," said Harry softly.
And Amber was upon Harry again, once again destroying any possibility of sane thought. Harry felt her arms close around him, pressing her breasts close to Harry…
"Tell me where my sister is…" she whispered again, pulling back.
"In London…Order of the Phoenix…"
And it was all over. Harry's eyes were closed. He felt Amber recede from him, leaving only coldness, dread, fear and guilt. What had he done? But there was more.
"Harry! Harry!" called Colin Creevy, running over. "I got a picture of you and Amber's first kiss!"
Harry felt totally, completely, abysmally dead inside.
Later that night, they had Astronomy with Professor Sinistra in the high Astronomy tower. NEWT level Astronomy consisted of much less staring through the telescopes and much more learning about how the stars influence magic. Tonight, they were learning about theories of magical means of space travel.
"Although no witch or wizard has successfully left the Earth on their own," Professor Sinistra was saying, as she paced back and forth, "the Department of Mysteries owns a vehicle that can travel throughout space. Seventeen years ago, they revealed this vehicle, the Identified Flying Object, IFO for short, to the wizarding community at large. The IFO is a disc-shaped, spinning craft from which shines multicolored jets of magic that keep the vehicle afloat. Wizards from all over the world have traveled on the IFO throughout the solar system and beyond, locating traces of magic on other worlds. The IFO is currently visiting Pluto and will return towards the end of this school year…"
"So," whispered Ron as Professor Sinistra droned on about the IFO, "What happened between you and Amber today?"
"She…I told her about the Order," confessed Harry, "or at least as much as I could have, not being the secret-keeper. I told her where Annette was…"
Harry was loath to mention the Drakhen and the prophecy for several reasons: he didn't want to drag Ron or Hermione into his problems, though he was sure they'd be more than happy to help or even accompany him to Azkaban, he didn't feel it was right to tell them anyway, it was his little secret, and he didn't want to admit to himself that later this very year he might be breaking into Azkaban and entering into Salazar Slytherin's tomb.
"You shouldn't have…" said Ron.
"Yeah, well you try having a hot girl on top of you and keeping your senses, huh?"
Moodily, angry that he was being blamed for something that he didn't mean to do, he turned back to listening to Professor Sinistra and copying down notes.
As the IFO is flying close to earth, wrote Harry, it often creates unexplainable circles in crop fields…
"Harry! Stop acting like that and tell me what she asked you about first!"
"Listen, I don't want to talk about it!" Harry said, hearing his voice get louder. The classroom fell silent and Professor Sinistra looked over in Harry's direction. "Sorry," he mumbled and Professor Sinistra continued.
"You've been hiding something from us all year!" whispered Hermione. "And we're your best friends."
"Oh yeah? Well, you're not my only friends, are you," snarled Harry. "Just don't ask me about what's going on, okay?"
"We're just trying to help!" said Ron, obviously taken aback.
"Yeah, well you're not. Listen, there are some things that I don't want you guys to be dragged in to."
"Like the visions you had about Sirius?" snapped Hermione.
She had hit a nerve. Harry stood up, slammed his book shut and stormed out of the astronomy teacher, followed by the eyes of every student and the teacher.
"Detention on Friday!" yelled Professor Sinistra after him. "And twenty points from Gryffindor!"
Harry didn't care. All Harry wanted now was some rest, some peaceful sleep, and some time to be all alone and just think about everything that was happening so quickly. But that wish wasn't to be. As he arrived in his room, predictably, the Drakhen was already gone. But there was more. Lying on his bed, covered in blood, was the figure of Annette.
Harry couldn't help himself. He was crying, screaming. In one night, everything had gone wrong. Why, what happened to Annette? Why did Ron and Hermione have to be that way to him? Why couldn't they just be his friends and understand? Why did his parents have to die, why did Cedric have to die, why did Sirius have to die, why did Macnair and those eight muggles have to die, why did Kevin have to die… why did there have to be death in this messed up world? And Annette… why now, why after her twin had used him, why after he had discovered who her father was, why, why why, why, WHY!?"
"It doesn't have to be this way," said a mournful voice from above him. Abruptly, Harry turned around. Nearly Headless Nick was floating just behind Harry watching.
"Nick? What are you doing here?"
"Should I not be allowed to float peacefully around my own house?"
"Well, yeah, I guess so, but into private dormitories…?"
"She's not dead, you know," said Nick, ignoring Harry's last sentence.
"What?"
"She's not even there."
Harry reached out to touch her. To his surprise, her body disappeared in a cloud of purple mist, and was replaced by a note.
"H-how did you know about this? What's going on?" Harry asked Nick frantically.
Nick simply smiled, his head wobbling uncertainly.
Harry ripped off the seal and opened the parchment to read the note.
Five children who I believe are important to you, who call themselves "The Forgotten" are now in my possession. Return your Silver Drakhen to its rightful place, and they will be returned to you.
Harry looked up, expectantly, at Nick.
"I've been working for the Order," said Nick simply. "Well, more like watching Hogwarts. They wanted me to tell you it'll be all right. Moody, Tonks, Lupin and Shaklebolt are all on the case. Annette, at least, is very important… you heard about that destiny of hers, right?"
"Who has her? Who has them?" asked Harry, panicking.
"We don't know. Your job right now is to get that Drakhen back from Annette's sister."
If anything could finish Harry's mixed-up feelings off for good, this was it. Harry lay back on his bed and cried. He heard the door opening, a brief flurry of activity, and then the lights were off again, and Harry was alone again.
It must have been nearly four in the morning. Harry hadn't slept, but fallen into a state of half-wakefulness, no longer thinking or feeling, simply fighting to stay alive. The wind howled outside, and snow blasted more than ever against Harry's window. Harry doubted the blizzard would ebb away. And then, the door opened. Someone walked in. Harry didn't bother to look up and see who it was until he felt a vaguely familiar hand on his face.
"It's okay, Harry… I know how you feel…"
Harry rolled over and stared, jolted out of his suffering by the calming yet dreamy voice.
"Luna? Luna Lovegood? How'd you get in here?"