Chapter 13: Twists
Hermione, though she would never admit it to anyone, was beginning to feel a kind of strain. The loads of homework that they had been receiving during the past few days were getting close to overwhelming, and that was on top of the fact that she couldn't help glancing at Harry every so often during the day. That time when he had nearly given over to Voldemort--or Kaeru, as Kentarre called him--had really given her quite a scare. The fact was that she couldn't help being worried; this was, after all, very serious business, and any number of things could go wrong. Kentarre had said so. Hermione sniffed. Kentarre's name always stirred up feelings of agitation in her. *She has no consideration whatsoever!* Hermione's mind screamed indignantly. However, she had seen Harry's face when he looked at the silver-haired girl who held so many secrets from them, and she kept her mouth clamped shut when their conversations covered that subject.
Ron, however, had seen these hints of disdain in Hermione's eyes, and he knew how she felt about the whole thing, though he never breathed a word of it to Harry. Ron had not even made his own opinion of Kentarre very clear. However, Ron did feel that some measures were to be taken about the girl's total disregard for Harry's feelings in the matter. He knew that it was probably none of his business, but Kentarre seemed to be completely in control of this endeavor, and Ron thought that Harry ought to have a bit more say-so in the way things went. Kentarre's drills seemed to occupy all of Harry's free time. Ron thought that this wasn't fair, though he couldn't quite find the right time to say so.
Meanwhile, Kentarre's thoughts were moving beyond the little mind games that she and Harry played with all kinds of objects, like fallen branches, more stones, and the occasional pile of dirt or leaves. The piles of dirt were the hardest for Harry, because she had asked him to spread out the dirt and see how much ground it covered. This proved almost too difficult; the piles in his mind always seemed to have enough dirt to spread to infinity.
Many times had Harry asked her what all of this was for, but she had never found a legitimate reason to answer him. Besides, where did all the fun go if she told him the whole point?
One night after one such session, when they were lounging in an empty common room, Kentarre broke some relieving news. "You're ready to move on, Potter," she told him. Harry leaned forward in his chair and said, "What? Move on? To what? And what was the point of all that, anyway?" Kentarre replied calmly, "It was to train your mind to stop making things up and concentrate on what was actually there. Your mind is used to imagining up anything it needed to solve a problem, and when you use my kind of magic all you have to work with is what's there. See, if you tried to use my magic to solve a problem that your mind kept fixing for you, you'd never get it done. You have to see what's actually there first, and only then can you begin to solve a problem. For instance, if I wanted to make that book over there fly to me," Kentarre pointed to an open book on the table a few feet away from her, "I'd have to first see all of its sides in my mind and then apply pressure on the underside while at the same time lifting pressure off of the top." She sat back and let this sink in for a bit before adding, "So you see, Potter, this is only a step."
Harry didn't quite understand all that, but instead of revealing his stupidity, he asked, "So what do we do now?" Kentarre said, "Well, here's where we get to the roadblock. See, after you've covered this step, you really can't go any farther unless you have something to experiment with." Her eyes then regarded Harry with an intensity that told Harry everything. "So... what we do next is transfer your magic to me?" Kentarre stared at him a moment longer, and then she nodded. Harry took in a deep breath, and then he too nodded, more to himself than to anyone else. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.
Kentarre then set a date for Saturday morning at 5:00, three days from now, and then she went up to bed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione did not follow.
Hermione was the first to speak after Kentarre disappeared up the stairs. "I still say there's something she's hiding from us," she said, her voice echoing the disdain in her eyes. "I mean, she still hasn't explained everything. Like what will happen to the rest of the people in the castle once the battle starts, and where the battle will take place, and how You-Know-Who plans to attack."
Harry pointed out, "She may not know all of that, Hermione. That would be a reason not to tell us, don't you think?"
Hermione sniffed and said matter-of-factly, "Of course she knows all that. Haven't you been listening? She said that You-Know-Who used to be one of their number."
Ron looked puzzled. "That's right. What about it?"
Hermione now looked exasperated. "Well, if I were trying to cover up something unpleasant--say, that I had once been one of You-Know-Who's servants--I might-"
"Wait a minute, Hermione!" Harry interrupted. "She never said that she was his servant. Rather, I think it was the other way around."
Hermione sniffed. "That's what she says."
"Don't you believe her?"
"Harry, I have no reason to trust her at all, much less any reason to believe something she says. For all we know, she could view that as a technicality while we view it as reason for suspicion."
"And in the meantime, Hermione, you're viewing it as just that. And before the words even came out of her mouth, I might add!"
"That could've been under her control! She could be leading you on, Harry."
"So what do you propose we do about it?"
"Just be careful! Don't forget that you have no reason to trust her, either."
Harry opened his mouth, and then clamped it shut. He took a deep breath. He really didn't want the others hearing what had been about to come out of his mouth just then. It was a rather personal subject, one that one just doesn't bring up for general discussion. He then said quietly, "I'll be careful, Hermione, but I still don't see why you're being so suspicious."
Hermione's eyes took on a guilty look. "I... I just don't trust her. I don't like the way she just waltzes in here and expects us to cooperate without question, which is exactly what you've been doing, Harry. What if something happened and you found yourself completely in her hands? Think of what could happen if she isn't really who she says she is." Harry looked away. He wouldn't admit it, but he had had these thoughts himself before, and he had considered what could happen. The possibilities weren't all that appealing, and ofttimes Harry had thought about backing out. However, he had then told himself what he was about to tell Hermione.
"But Hermione, think about what will happen if I don't do this. She'll just choose someone else to do the job, and the same thing could happen to them. I'd sooner have it happen to me than someone else who's never met Voldemort and would panic and run away when the time came. Kentarre was right about that; I do have an advantage because I've met him before."
"Oh, Harry, do you really think that's going to decide the battle for you?"
Harry really didn't think that, but he didn't say so. "Look, it's going to be all right. After Saturday, Kentarre won't have any of her powers, so she won't be able to hold that over us, even if what you think about her is true. I'll have to go through with the rest of it after that, but it won't be like she's forcing me."
Hermione glanced at Ron, who was staring at the floor between his feet. She looked back at Harry. Her eyes, he saw, were brimming. "Oh, Harry!" she cried, and then she threw her arms around his neck. "I'm just so worried!" Then she broke away, putting her arms back at her side as if embarrassed. Then she said as an afterthought, "If anything happens to you, human or not, that Kentarre character will have to deal with me!" Harry grinned at her, and everything was right again.
The three of them shortly afterward decided to get some sleep. They said their goodnights and went up to bed. Harry hadn't realized how tired he was until just now. He laid his glasses on the nightstand and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
Classes were somewhat trying for Harry. Everyone remembered the events of the Friday before, and they all cast wary glances in Harry's direction, whispering in gossipy voices behind their hands. However, if people stared at Harry, it was nothing to how they were treating Kentarre. A few of the brave ones took to walking just in front of her, saying, "Coming through, coming through, make way for the Teacher's Superior!" in grand, booming voices. This act of insubordinance, however, was thoroughly squashed when Professor McGonagall caught them at it. She was about to deliver a stinging reprimand when Kentarre stopped her and took care of it herself. The two boys soon found themselves laughing uncontrollably and giggling their way down to the hospital wing. Kentarre ended up losing ten points for Gryffindor, but everyone else got the message and went back to twittering to one another in tightly knit groups.
Divination, Harry soon discovered, was a huge nightmare. Professor Trelawney, having not been given an excuse to foretell Harry's doom that year, very quickly got over her disappointment. She greeted them in the normal way, but she looked sharply over Harry's weary features and said in her oozing voice, "My dear, you seem troubled. I foresee many trials in store for you, and I perceive that before the year ends, you will yet again make a near pass with death that you may not endure." She looked at him with an expression like pity in her eyes, and Harry saw Ron roll his eyes. Kentarre came into class a few minutes later, and she took her seat by Harry. Professor Trelawney looked at her. "My dear," she said, "your books have been prepared for you at this table here." She pointed to the one nearest the fire, which was groaning under a pile of heavy textbooks. "Your lesson awaits." Kentarre replied smoothly, "Actually, professor, I thought that in compliance with the lesson I am studying, the behavior of those subjected to fate, I should merely observe others in the class." Kentarre artfully cast a sidelong glance at Harry, and Professor Trelawney's eyes lit up. "Very well, my dear," she said delightfully, and then she proceeded to address the entire class.
During this introduction to their lesson, Harry leaned over and muttered, "What was that all about?" Kentarre smirked. "A word of the wise, Potter. When someone has gone so far into this as she, always agree with them. It's very easy to perceive what her vices are, and if you just go along with them, she'll do anything you want simply because you agree with her. See, the way she sees it, she and I share a 'special exclusive secret' about you, and neither of us will speak of it, of course, because she has sworn an oath to the Fates, and I've certainly got no idea what's up. If I speak and act like I do, though, she'll play right into my hands because she feels that if I've got the skill to have found that out, I'm worth her respect." Harry's head was, by now, positively spinning, but he just had one more question. "So you really don't know what has got her all fired up about predicting my death?"
"Haven't a clue. I really don't have time for all that gibberish, and it's not really the most reliable of human practices."
"That's what McGonagall said."
"There's another person you should listen to. She's one of the few people in this place who's got their head on straight."
Lessons that day included moving on to another subject: the zodiac. Professor Trelawney clearly agreed with the Greek mythologists, because she stated, "The study of the constellations has been in practice for thousands of years, and though it is one of the more obscure branches of Divination, it is nonetheless the branch that has not, to date, ever been proven wrong."
Ron muttered, "Though I'd be willing to wager that it's never been proven right, either." Kentarre replied in a whisper, "She's actually closer to the truth than you think. The science of the zodiac is not exactly what one would call straightforward. There are many ways of interpreting the results, and it's so elusive that it can be twisted around to say almost anything. Thus, it's never been proven wrong."
The class seemed to drag on into infinity. They started with interpreting previously inscribed zodiac predictions, and then they moved on to the theory of writing them themselves. It was long and tedious work, requiring near-perfect conditions before they could even begin to write what they were supposed to gather from their star charts. And even so, Professor Trelawney told them to write their names on the star charts so they could pick up immediately the following day. She collected the charts and then she bustled Kentarre away to discuss the day's observations behind a heavy velvet maroon curtain.
Once the two of them had been closeted away, Harry heaved a weary sigh. "This is going to take an eternity and a half," he groaned, wiping his sweating forehead. Ron snorted. "Trelawney seems especially excited about this lesson, so it's likely to take longer than that. I don't know what she sees in all of this. I may not know what I do want to do with my life, but I certainly don't want to be a Divination professor." Harry nodded his agreement.
A few minutes later, Kentarre emerged from her discussion with Professor Trelawney, and the bell rang impressively just as they reappeared. "Farewell, my dears," said the professor in her whispery voice, and the class filed down the narrow stairs that led away from her attic. Ron muttered, "Someday somebody's going to prove all she says is phony, and I hope I'm there when they do." Kentarre smirked. "That day may not be so far off. I've been leading her on. She thinks Harry's really going to die by the end of this year, and she's almost prepared to come right out and say it. I'm making my moves."
"Do you have a plan for everything that goes on here?"
"I'm trying to keep tabs on everything so that I'll know when the time is right. There's something significant that will happen for each factor, and I have to be prepared for whatever it is, because when it happens,--"
"All right, so I didn't really want to know."
Kentarre chuckled in her resonant contralto, and the three of them met up with Hermione on their way to the next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Kentarre took a slow, deep breath before she entered the room. Harry assumed she was getting her temper back in check.
Professor Jycein, apparently, had taken Kentarre's warnings and thunderous glances quite seriously. His class seemed different somehow, though Harry could not quite put his finger on how. None of his classmates acted any differently, but there was definitely something wrong. It agitated Harry so much that very soon he was glancing warily around the classroom, almost not realizing he was doing it. He looked at Kentarre just once, but he couldn't read anything from her expression. Her jaw was set in aggravation, but her eyes were alert and suspicious, darting every so often to the window and then back to Jycein.
Hermione and Ron seemed somehow subdued as well, as if they had been told something that he had been excluded from. In any case, it made Harry a bit edgy, and when the class ended, he wasn't prepared for what came next.
Kentarre waited for them outside of the classroom, just out of sight behind the doorframe. When Harry emerged, she said, "Hold on, there, Potter." Harry jumped, more out of nervousness than of real fright. Then he flushed, looking irritated. "What?"
"We've got somewhere to be," she replied cryptically, and before Harry could ask what she meant by that, she held up a hand. "Just follow me," came her brusque instructions, and Harry, having learned that until he did what she told him to, he would never know what it was she was up to, obeyed. She led him this way and that until they came to an empty corridor, where Harry caught up and asked, "Okay, now what's this all about?"
"We're going down to pay Kaeru a visit."
"Are you crazy? Somebody'll see us!"
"They won't."
"You know, you're really scary when you say things like that."
"Well, they won't. What else do you want me to say?"
"Something sensible, for a change!"
"Are you arguing with me, Potter? Or should I just go by myself?"
That silenced whatever argument would've popped into his head next. Harry tagged along sullenly, making sure to keep to Kentarre's swift strides. He then noticed that Hermione and Ron had not followed him, and he wondered aloud where they had gone. Kentarre replied, "They're around. I just didn't want them to come."
"How can you--"
"I just can. Are you going to argue some more?"
That was really starting to get tiresome, and Harry would've dearly loved to say so, but at that point Snape rounded a corner up ahead, making Harry inwardly groan. As Harry had known he would, Snape deliberately blocked the hallway and asked in a voice that clearly said I'm-in-the-way-and-I-know-it, "Now, where could you be going in such a hurry?" Kentarre took his sneer in full force. "Now, what makes the Potions master so curious?" she asked in the same mocking tone. Snape replied, "It's my business to ask questions, Hisakata. Otherwise students might get away with certain things that they would rather have remained undetected." Kentarre said, "Fair enough. Well, if you wanted to know, we were just going outside to have a talk with Hagrid. I heard that another one of his wraiths went missing again, and we wondered how he would feel about that."
Snape smirked. "How touching. And I suppose you expect him to cry his eyes out just so you can comfort him?"
Kentarre scowled darkly and countered , "Well, we won't know until we get there, now will we?" Harry started to caution Kentarre, but stopped when Snape's eyes flickered in his direction. Harry knew that Snape could take what Kentarre just said and turn it into disrespect, giving him reason to deduct fifty points from Gryffindor in the blink of an eye.
Snape, however, merely said in a voice that spoke volumes of irritation, "Very well. You may move on." He, with some apparent great effort, stepped aside to let them pass.
Now, they might've gotten away right there just fine with no harm done. But Kentarre would have none of that. "I'm thrilled to have your permission," she said as they went by, her voice saturated with sarcasm. Snape scowled after them, his dislike for the silver-haired student showing just a little less than did his dislike for Harry. Harry was, in a way, glad that Kentarre was there to deal with Snape when he decided to interfere. Now, he knew very well what it was like to catch Snape on one of his bad days, which Kentarre frequently did, but the girl showed none of the irritation that he usually felt when he had just had a talk with that particular professor. In fact, as Harry examined her expression, she seemed calm, almost satisfied.
On an impulse, Kentarre looked over at Harry. "I love talking with him," she told him. "It keeps me on the edge. It also lets me know that he still reasonably hates me." Harry tried not to stare.
However, when they got outside and Kentarre headed straight for Hagrid's cabin, Harry just couldn't keep from asking. "Why are we going to Hagrid's?"
"To find out if he saw anything. There's always that chance that coincidence will happen, and I just want to make sure."
"So what if he did see something?"
"I'll think of something."
"You mean you don't know?"
"Yet. We'll just see how the situation presents itself."
"You're being scary again."
"I'm only scary if you don't trust me."
"How can I trust you when you're always improvising?"
"Do you want to get into a discussion about this?"
Harry very much wanted to say 'we already have', but the Kentarre's tone stopped his tongue. He was silent all the way down to the little wooden hut that was Hagrid's home.
When they got there, Hagrid let them in with hearty claps on the back. "Where're Ron an' Hermione?" he asked them jovially. Kentarre replied, "They got caught up, so we thought we'd just come along anyway." Hagrid frowned, but he didn't say anything.
Instead, he offered them tea and a plate of blueberry dumplings that were rather rubbery. They accepted the tea, but declined the dumplings. Kentarre got right into a conversation. "So, Hagrid, how are the wraiths?" she asked him.
"Oh, they're doin' alrigh'. Some of 'em are a bit edgy, but I can't seem to figure out why."
"Edgy?"
"They won't sleep very often, an' they jump at every little noise."
"I see. Hagrid, how many wraiths do you have now?"
"Seven."
"And how many did you start out the year with?"
"Ten."
"Do you know what happened to the other three?"
"Well, I don't righ'ly know. They just sort o' disappeared, like."
"I see."
After that, Hagrid changed the subject, and the conversation turned. Then Harry brought something up. "Hey, Hagrid, do you know what Dumbledore's planning for this year's Christmas?"
Kentarre looked at him inquiringly, and he asked her, "You mean you haven't heard? The whole school's buzzing." Her eyes flashed. "No, I hadn't heard. What exactly are they saying?"
Harry gave a sidelong glance at Hagrid, and then he told her, "Well, I hear that he's not hiring anyone to provide music, but that during the Christmas feast, students will get up and play music at different intervals. As I understand it, he's going to let each house have three candidates, and everyone in that house will vote. They'll play at different times during the feast. Is that right, Hagrid?"
Hagrid had a twinkle in his eye. "Well, now, I'm not suppose' teh tell yeh that. That's a secret, see, an' Dumbledore asked me teh keep my mouth shut." He looked rather proud of himself.
Harry attempted to goad Hagrid into telling them something more, but he refused to ruin the surprise. Then Kentarre announced that they'd better be heading back to the castle to do homework, and Harry agreed with her. They thanked the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds and then left, heading towards the castle.
Once Hagrid had closed his door, Harry muttered to Kentarre, "Shouldn't we be turning around now? The Forest is back that way." He gestured behind them.
Kentarre replied in low tones, "Not the part of it that we want. We'll go around back to the Quidditch field and then turn right, straight into the Forest."
They rounded the castle and came upon the deserted Quidditch field. However, Kentarre stopped just as they came around the wall. Harry asked, "What?" and she motioned for him to be silent. He came to join her up against the stone wall, and he saw that she had two fingers on her temple, apparently concentrating on something.
Momentarily, Harry heard a cry from above, and as he looked up he saw a bird spiraling down toward them. On silent wings, Nemesis descended to land with a feathery flap on his mistress's arm. She conveyed something to him by making sounds that so duplicated those Harry had heard the falcon make that it surprised him, and Nemesis replied with a similar series of coos. Then she lifted her arm and he took wing, flying ahead of them a little ways, but making sure to keep in their sight. Harry asked her, "What was all that about?"
"Nemesis is going to go ahead as our scout."
"What's he scouting for?"
"Anything that might in any way get in our way."
"Oh. How's he going to let us know if he sees anything?"
"I've given him instructions to screech once if we're supposed to change directions, screech twice if he's seen someone besides us, and screech three times when we're about to come upon Voldemort's hideout."
"Won't they suspect something?"
"Not really. As I hear, falcons are fairly common in England. Let's go."
The forest was damp and dim as it always had been, but there was something about it that didn't feel right. For some reason, Harry got the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He lost count of how many times he glanced behind them. But when he looked over at Kentarre, she didn't seem to be affected by it.
Which is why he was so startled when she murmured under her breath, "Someone followed us." Harry couldn't help but stare. Kentarre then proceeded to mutter a few choice oaths, and Harry was alarmed. "Can you tell who it is?"
"No. Whoever it is, he's very good. Just keep your eyes peeled, and let me know if you see anything."
"I haven't been able to see him so far. Who do you think it is?"
"Well, it could be one of two people. I don't want to make a concrete guess, so let's just leave it at that."
Just then, a lone falcon cry came to them from somewhere overhead and to the left. Immediately, Kentarre struck that way, following the sound. Nemesis led them in a large arc, and then there were three consecutive screeches. Kentarre got down into a crouch, motioning for Harry to do the same and follow her. They went forwards for a ways, and they found Nemesis perched on the branch of a short pine. Kentarre conveyed her thanks in a series of coos, and then the bird noiselessly took off again.
Kentarre proceeded on through the bushes with Harry close behind. They hadn't gotten very far when she made an abrupt halt, throwing her hand out to catch Harry by the chest before he stumbled over her. Harry followed her staring eyes and, with a jolt, recognized what he saw.
There was a well-made camp comprised of about five or six tents, the biggest one being in the center of it all. They were all black with a symbol on the door; a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth, embroidered in green. There were people in black cowled robes walking around at a steady, rhythmic pace. They did not speak nor look at each other, but moved as if with a common purpose.
Just then, someone emerged from the largest tent. This man did not walk at the stately pace of the rest of them, but he hurried with jolting steps, stumbling this way and that and muttering to himself. Harry didn't have to see the man's face to know who he was; this man owed Harry his life, and he had had a hand in Harry's near-death. The man's name was Peter Pettigrew, known to many as Wormtail. He disappeared into a smaller tent and reappeared shortly, carrying something clutched in pale fingers. He jerkily made his way through the throng and back through the tent flap of the large tent.
Kentarre faintly nodded her head. "So," she said after a pause, "he's got something planned." Harry whispered, "How can you tell?"
"I can feel it." She pulled up her glove so he could see that the rings on her left hand glowed familiarly, but her eyes remained far away, staring at the black tent that Wormtail had gone into. "He's got his weapon with him, but he's not ready yet. He's brought in some test subjects, but his skills are but a faint memory. When he turned human, nearly everything Kelohran about him was erased. His blood flowed red; his body forgot everything. But it couldn't erase what his mind knew. He still had his memories, and that's what makes him so dangerous. You see, with all that information stored in his head, there's nothing to stop him from reteaching himself what his hands once knew. He's begun the process, but he needed practice. So he sent for random test subjects--wizards, of course. They've all gone mad now. He overwhelmed them, and their minds responded in the best way they knew how." Harry was staring at her incredulously. "They went mad?" he repeated. She nodded grimly, her jaw set.
"How?"
"Well, when he started overtaking their wills, he made them do all manner of things that nearly killed them. Their minds were wasted because of the tremendous force pushed on them."
"So what happened to them?"
"He discarded them at various places in England."
"But if they've gone mad, they could die out there!"
"Do you think he cares what happens to them? He's finished with them; as far as he's concerned, they're already dead."
Harry felt a terrible anger at this. Voldemort had gone too far. It was high time that somebody stopped this.
Kentarre put a hand on his arm. He looked at her sharply, trying to keep his outrage out of his expression. She narrowed her eyes. "Now's not the time to be heroic."
Harry felt a tinge of annoyance, and he avoided her eyes, trying to pull away from her grasp.
"No! Harry, listen to me." He could feel her eyes burning into him, and he couldn't help looking up to meet them.
Kentarre's face wore an expression he had never seen there before. It was a mixture of understanding and compassion and a trace of the same anger that he felt. "You have to stay quiet. We can't just barge out there and start making noise. They outman us twenty to one--and that's not including Voldemort. The time isn't right." Her voice then softened almost imperceptibly. "He's hurt me too, Harry. I wish as much as you do that I could change this, but we both have to stick it out to the end. Don't worry-" She winked at him, and a small smile came to her pale face. "He'll get what's coming to him."
Suddenly, there were two falcon cries from somewhere in the sky behind them. Kentarre's eyes narrowed, and she replaced her left glove as she glanced behind her. "He's caught up with us, and he's somewhere out there," she indicated behind them with her head. "Stay here. I'll go check it out. Stay out of sight, and don't make any noise."
Harry was about to protest, but she disappeared into the bushes before he could say something. *She meant to do that,* he told himself irritably, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
Kentarre crept back on silent feet, listening almost too hard for any misplaced sound that might lead her to their tracker. She could no longer hear Nemesis. The forest was quieter than a graveyard at midnight. The trees seemed to be holding their breaths, and the air was still yet piercingly cold.
Suddenly, there was a nervous flutter, and a flock of birds shook themselves out of the trees, flowing as one toward the sky. Kentarre winced at the sudden noise, and then she heard them--the receding footsteps, heading off to her left at a dead run. She shot off after them without thinking twice.
She learned shortly that she was gaining on whoever it was ahead of her, and soon she caught glimpses of a black robe. A closer look showed a short person with blond hair.
Kentarre reached out and caught the tracker by the back of his robes and spun him around, locking a grip on his arm. She looked into his face and swore.
"Malfoy, you'd better have a good reason for this," she growled.
The boy's eyes were triumphant. "I have a perfectly good reason for it, Kentarre, but that's none of your concern. The point is that I know now why you and Potter have been sneaking away on these little excursions. You're spying, and I know who you're spying on."
Kentarre thundered, "You fool! Do you know who you're messing with?"
"Ooh, what're you going to do, Kentarre? If word that you're threatening me reaches Dumbledore, I wonder how he'll take it?"
"Boy, you're crossing lines here."
"And what do you call what you're doing? Look, you don't want me to tell anyone, and you can't stop me from following you. I don't know what it is you're doing out here, but I'm going to find out whether you like it or not."
Kentarre ground her teeth. "We'll see," she said shortly. She turned to the north and was silent for a few moments. Presently, a figure came out of the forest, a man dressed in nondescript brown clothing. He and Kentarre conversed quietly in another language, and then Kentarre released Malfoy from her grasp. She immediately turned and strode away.
When Malfoy moved to follow her, the man caught him with a well-placed hand at his midriff. "Where are you going?" he asked coldly. Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he said, "I'm going after her."
"Ah, that, my friend, is where you are wrong."
Malfoy attempted to push past the man, but he suddenly found himself shoved with great force up against a nearby tree. He cried out and attempted to run, but his muscles froze up, and he was unable to move. He was forced back to the tree, where the man eyed him shrewdly, one hand stretched out toward him. "Well, neighbor, now that we understand each other, how about being agreeable? If you're very quiet and don't make a fuss, I'll ask Kentarre not to be too harsh with you."
Malfoy sneered. "I'm not afraid of that wench."
"Ah, but there, neighbor, you are wrong. You are afraid of Kentarre; very afraid."
Kentarre stormed away, trying not to make too much noise. She heard no more from Nemesis.
Suddenly, someone stepped out in front of her, causing her to come to an abrupt stop. His face was covered in a deeply cowled black cloak, but Kentarre knew him the instant he spoke.
"You've been overmatched again, Kentarre," he sneered.
She narrowed her eyes. "How did you find me?"
"Simple. I gave the boy a certain tracking device and told him to follow you."
"Electronic devices don't work on Hogwarts campus. How did you do it, Learst?"
"I've told you to stop calling me that, and how I did it is none of your concern. However, if I were you, I would be deeply worried about young Potter. He's in for a nasty surprise when we catch him."
At this, Kentarre began to swear quite colorfully. The man's sneer grew. "You know, you really should watch your language, Kentarre. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've picked up a few more phrases since last we met."
"Would you like to hear some of them?"
"Ah, no, thank you, I have some urgent business to attend to. Ta ta!" With that, he Disapparated.
Kentarre swore some more, and then she leapt into the air above the trees and made a beeline for the spot where Potter (she hoped) lay hidden.
Meanwhile, Harry lay as still as he was able under the bush. There were a few moments of panic as he thought that he saw a few people glance his way, but they never acknowledged his presence in any way, if they had seen him.
Unfortunately, this couldn't last.
Harry saw one of the men run up and murmur something to a group of loungers, and they all looked over directly at Harry. Harry froze, but it was too late; they walked over toward the bush, showing no signs of changing direction at the last minute. When they came within two paces, one of them barked, "Come on out! We know you're in there!" Harry, however, remembering his instructions from Kentarre, stayed put, attempting to slow his heart pace down enough to think of something. It didn't work.
One of them dove his hand in the bush and came out holding the back of Harry's robes in a fist. Harry was dragged to his feet and wordlessly marched away. His escort stopped in front of one of the tents, and Harry was pushed inside alone.
Inside it was dark, but some daylight seeped in from under the cloth walls. Harry could see a room that was about ten feet squared, and it was completely bare.
After a few moments, someone entered through another flap, presumably from some other part of the sectioned tent. The person, like the rest of them, was cowled in black, but this one pushed back his hood and peered at Harry out of beady eyes. Harry knew him, and he felt as though icy fingers were running up his spine to the back of his neck. His voice came out in a quiet but steady tone.
"Wormtail."
Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking... but I CAN end it there, and I WILL!
Hermione, though she would never admit it to anyone, was beginning to feel a kind of strain. The loads of homework that they had been receiving during the past few days were getting close to overwhelming, and that was on top of the fact that she couldn't help glancing at Harry every so often during the day. That time when he had nearly given over to Voldemort--or Kaeru, as Kentarre called him--had really given her quite a scare. The fact was that she couldn't help being worried; this was, after all, very serious business, and any number of things could go wrong. Kentarre had said so. Hermione sniffed. Kentarre's name always stirred up feelings of agitation in her. *She has no consideration whatsoever!* Hermione's mind screamed indignantly. However, she had seen Harry's face when he looked at the silver-haired girl who held so many secrets from them, and she kept her mouth clamped shut when their conversations covered that subject.
Ron, however, had seen these hints of disdain in Hermione's eyes, and he knew how she felt about the whole thing, though he never breathed a word of it to Harry. Ron had not even made his own opinion of Kentarre very clear. However, Ron did feel that some measures were to be taken about the girl's total disregard for Harry's feelings in the matter. He knew that it was probably none of his business, but Kentarre seemed to be completely in control of this endeavor, and Ron thought that Harry ought to have a bit more say-so in the way things went. Kentarre's drills seemed to occupy all of Harry's free time. Ron thought that this wasn't fair, though he couldn't quite find the right time to say so.
Meanwhile, Kentarre's thoughts were moving beyond the little mind games that she and Harry played with all kinds of objects, like fallen branches, more stones, and the occasional pile of dirt or leaves. The piles of dirt were the hardest for Harry, because she had asked him to spread out the dirt and see how much ground it covered. This proved almost too difficult; the piles in his mind always seemed to have enough dirt to spread to infinity.
Many times had Harry asked her what all of this was for, but she had never found a legitimate reason to answer him. Besides, where did all the fun go if she told him the whole point?
One night after one such session, when they were lounging in an empty common room, Kentarre broke some relieving news. "You're ready to move on, Potter," she told him. Harry leaned forward in his chair and said, "What? Move on? To what? And what was the point of all that, anyway?" Kentarre replied calmly, "It was to train your mind to stop making things up and concentrate on what was actually there. Your mind is used to imagining up anything it needed to solve a problem, and when you use my kind of magic all you have to work with is what's there. See, if you tried to use my magic to solve a problem that your mind kept fixing for you, you'd never get it done. You have to see what's actually there first, and only then can you begin to solve a problem. For instance, if I wanted to make that book over there fly to me," Kentarre pointed to an open book on the table a few feet away from her, "I'd have to first see all of its sides in my mind and then apply pressure on the underside while at the same time lifting pressure off of the top." She sat back and let this sink in for a bit before adding, "So you see, Potter, this is only a step."
Harry didn't quite understand all that, but instead of revealing his stupidity, he asked, "So what do we do now?" Kentarre said, "Well, here's where we get to the roadblock. See, after you've covered this step, you really can't go any farther unless you have something to experiment with." Her eyes then regarded Harry with an intensity that told Harry everything. "So... what we do next is transfer your magic to me?" Kentarre stared at him a moment longer, and then she nodded. Harry took in a deep breath, and then he too nodded, more to himself than to anyone else. Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances.
Kentarre then set a date for Saturday morning at 5:00, three days from now, and then she went up to bed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione did not follow.
Hermione was the first to speak after Kentarre disappeared up the stairs. "I still say there's something she's hiding from us," she said, her voice echoing the disdain in her eyes. "I mean, she still hasn't explained everything. Like what will happen to the rest of the people in the castle once the battle starts, and where the battle will take place, and how You-Know-Who plans to attack."
Harry pointed out, "She may not know all of that, Hermione. That would be a reason not to tell us, don't you think?"
Hermione sniffed and said matter-of-factly, "Of course she knows all that. Haven't you been listening? She said that You-Know-Who used to be one of their number."
Ron looked puzzled. "That's right. What about it?"
Hermione now looked exasperated. "Well, if I were trying to cover up something unpleasant--say, that I had once been one of You-Know-Who's servants--I might-"
"Wait a minute, Hermione!" Harry interrupted. "She never said that she was his servant. Rather, I think it was the other way around."
Hermione sniffed. "That's what she says."
"Don't you believe her?"
"Harry, I have no reason to trust her at all, much less any reason to believe something she says. For all we know, she could view that as a technicality while we view it as reason for suspicion."
"And in the meantime, Hermione, you're viewing it as just that. And before the words even came out of her mouth, I might add!"
"That could've been under her control! She could be leading you on, Harry."
"So what do you propose we do about it?"
"Just be careful! Don't forget that you have no reason to trust her, either."
Harry opened his mouth, and then clamped it shut. He took a deep breath. He really didn't want the others hearing what had been about to come out of his mouth just then. It was a rather personal subject, one that one just doesn't bring up for general discussion. He then said quietly, "I'll be careful, Hermione, but I still don't see why you're being so suspicious."
Hermione's eyes took on a guilty look. "I... I just don't trust her. I don't like the way she just waltzes in here and expects us to cooperate without question, which is exactly what you've been doing, Harry. What if something happened and you found yourself completely in her hands? Think of what could happen if she isn't really who she says she is." Harry looked away. He wouldn't admit it, but he had had these thoughts himself before, and he had considered what could happen. The possibilities weren't all that appealing, and ofttimes Harry had thought about backing out. However, he had then told himself what he was about to tell Hermione.
"But Hermione, think about what will happen if I don't do this. She'll just choose someone else to do the job, and the same thing could happen to them. I'd sooner have it happen to me than someone else who's never met Voldemort and would panic and run away when the time came. Kentarre was right about that; I do have an advantage because I've met him before."
"Oh, Harry, do you really think that's going to decide the battle for you?"
Harry really didn't think that, but he didn't say so. "Look, it's going to be all right. After Saturday, Kentarre won't have any of her powers, so she won't be able to hold that over us, even if what you think about her is true. I'll have to go through with the rest of it after that, but it won't be like she's forcing me."
Hermione glanced at Ron, who was staring at the floor between his feet. She looked back at Harry. Her eyes, he saw, were brimming. "Oh, Harry!" she cried, and then she threw her arms around his neck. "I'm just so worried!" Then she broke away, putting her arms back at her side as if embarrassed. Then she said as an afterthought, "If anything happens to you, human or not, that Kentarre character will have to deal with me!" Harry grinned at her, and everything was right again.
The three of them shortly afterward decided to get some sleep. They said their goodnights and went up to bed. Harry hadn't realized how tired he was until just now. He laid his glasses on the nightstand and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.
Classes were somewhat trying for Harry. Everyone remembered the events of the Friday before, and they all cast wary glances in Harry's direction, whispering in gossipy voices behind their hands. However, if people stared at Harry, it was nothing to how they were treating Kentarre. A few of the brave ones took to walking just in front of her, saying, "Coming through, coming through, make way for the Teacher's Superior!" in grand, booming voices. This act of insubordinance, however, was thoroughly squashed when Professor McGonagall caught them at it. She was about to deliver a stinging reprimand when Kentarre stopped her and took care of it herself. The two boys soon found themselves laughing uncontrollably and giggling their way down to the hospital wing. Kentarre ended up losing ten points for Gryffindor, but everyone else got the message and went back to twittering to one another in tightly knit groups.
Divination, Harry soon discovered, was a huge nightmare. Professor Trelawney, having not been given an excuse to foretell Harry's doom that year, very quickly got over her disappointment. She greeted them in the normal way, but she looked sharply over Harry's weary features and said in her oozing voice, "My dear, you seem troubled. I foresee many trials in store for you, and I perceive that before the year ends, you will yet again make a near pass with death that you may not endure." She looked at him with an expression like pity in her eyes, and Harry saw Ron roll his eyes. Kentarre came into class a few minutes later, and she took her seat by Harry. Professor Trelawney looked at her. "My dear," she said, "your books have been prepared for you at this table here." She pointed to the one nearest the fire, which was groaning under a pile of heavy textbooks. "Your lesson awaits." Kentarre replied smoothly, "Actually, professor, I thought that in compliance with the lesson I am studying, the behavior of those subjected to fate, I should merely observe others in the class." Kentarre artfully cast a sidelong glance at Harry, and Professor Trelawney's eyes lit up. "Very well, my dear," she said delightfully, and then she proceeded to address the entire class.
During this introduction to their lesson, Harry leaned over and muttered, "What was that all about?" Kentarre smirked. "A word of the wise, Potter. When someone has gone so far into this as she, always agree with them. It's very easy to perceive what her vices are, and if you just go along with them, she'll do anything you want simply because you agree with her. See, the way she sees it, she and I share a 'special exclusive secret' about you, and neither of us will speak of it, of course, because she has sworn an oath to the Fates, and I've certainly got no idea what's up. If I speak and act like I do, though, she'll play right into my hands because she feels that if I've got the skill to have found that out, I'm worth her respect." Harry's head was, by now, positively spinning, but he just had one more question. "So you really don't know what has got her all fired up about predicting my death?"
"Haven't a clue. I really don't have time for all that gibberish, and it's not really the most reliable of human practices."
"That's what McGonagall said."
"There's another person you should listen to. She's one of the few people in this place who's got their head on straight."
Lessons that day included moving on to another subject: the zodiac. Professor Trelawney clearly agreed with the Greek mythologists, because she stated, "The study of the constellations has been in practice for thousands of years, and though it is one of the more obscure branches of Divination, it is nonetheless the branch that has not, to date, ever been proven wrong."
Ron muttered, "Though I'd be willing to wager that it's never been proven right, either." Kentarre replied in a whisper, "She's actually closer to the truth than you think. The science of the zodiac is not exactly what one would call straightforward. There are many ways of interpreting the results, and it's so elusive that it can be twisted around to say almost anything. Thus, it's never been proven wrong."
The class seemed to drag on into infinity. They started with interpreting previously inscribed zodiac predictions, and then they moved on to the theory of writing them themselves. It was long and tedious work, requiring near-perfect conditions before they could even begin to write what they were supposed to gather from their star charts. And even so, Professor Trelawney told them to write their names on the star charts so they could pick up immediately the following day. She collected the charts and then she bustled Kentarre away to discuss the day's observations behind a heavy velvet maroon curtain.
Once the two of them had been closeted away, Harry heaved a weary sigh. "This is going to take an eternity and a half," he groaned, wiping his sweating forehead. Ron snorted. "Trelawney seems especially excited about this lesson, so it's likely to take longer than that. I don't know what she sees in all of this. I may not know what I do want to do with my life, but I certainly don't want to be a Divination professor." Harry nodded his agreement.
A few minutes later, Kentarre emerged from her discussion with Professor Trelawney, and the bell rang impressively just as they reappeared. "Farewell, my dears," said the professor in her whispery voice, and the class filed down the narrow stairs that led away from her attic. Ron muttered, "Someday somebody's going to prove all she says is phony, and I hope I'm there when they do." Kentarre smirked. "That day may not be so far off. I've been leading her on. She thinks Harry's really going to die by the end of this year, and she's almost prepared to come right out and say it. I'm making my moves."
"Do you have a plan for everything that goes on here?"
"I'm trying to keep tabs on everything so that I'll know when the time is right. There's something significant that will happen for each factor, and I have to be prepared for whatever it is, because when it happens,--"
"All right, so I didn't really want to know."
Kentarre chuckled in her resonant contralto, and the three of them met up with Hermione on their way to the next class, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Kentarre took a slow, deep breath before she entered the room. Harry assumed she was getting her temper back in check.
Professor Jycein, apparently, had taken Kentarre's warnings and thunderous glances quite seriously. His class seemed different somehow, though Harry could not quite put his finger on how. None of his classmates acted any differently, but there was definitely something wrong. It agitated Harry so much that very soon he was glancing warily around the classroom, almost not realizing he was doing it. He looked at Kentarre just once, but he couldn't read anything from her expression. Her jaw was set in aggravation, but her eyes were alert and suspicious, darting every so often to the window and then back to Jycein.
Hermione and Ron seemed somehow subdued as well, as if they had been told something that he had been excluded from. In any case, it made Harry a bit edgy, and when the class ended, he wasn't prepared for what came next.
Kentarre waited for them outside of the classroom, just out of sight behind the doorframe. When Harry emerged, she said, "Hold on, there, Potter." Harry jumped, more out of nervousness than of real fright. Then he flushed, looking irritated. "What?"
"We've got somewhere to be," she replied cryptically, and before Harry could ask what she meant by that, she held up a hand. "Just follow me," came her brusque instructions, and Harry, having learned that until he did what she told him to, he would never know what it was she was up to, obeyed. She led him this way and that until they came to an empty corridor, where Harry caught up and asked, "Okay, now what's this all about?"
"We're going down to pay Kaeru a visit."
"Are you crazy? Somebody'll see us!"
"They won't."
"You know, you're really scary when you say things like that."
"Well, they won't. What else do you want me to say?"
"Something sensible, for a change!"
"Are you arguing with me, Potter? Or should I just go by myself?"
That silenced whatever argument would've popped into his head next. Harry tagged along sullenly, making sure to keep to Kentarre's swift strides. He then noticed that Hermione and Ron had not followed him, and he wondered aloud where they had gone. Kentarre replied, "They're around. I just didn't want them to come."
"How can you--"
"I just can. Are you going to argue some more?"
That was really starting to get tiresome, and Harry would've dearly loved to say so, but at that point Snape rounded a corner up ahead, making Harry inwardly groan. As Harry had known he would, Snape deliberately blocked the hallway and asked in a voice that clearly said I'm-in-the-way-and-I-know-it, "Now, where could you be going in such a hurry?" Kentarre took his sneer in full force. "Now, what makes the Potions master so curious?" she asked in the same mocking tone. Snape replied, "It's my business to ask questions, Hisakata. Otherwise students might get away with certain things that they would rather have remained undetected." Kentarre said, "Fair enough. Well, if you wanted to know, we were just going outside to have a talk with Hagrid. I heard that another one of his wraiths went missing again, and we wondered how he would feel about that."
Snape smirked. "How touching. And I suppose you expect him to cry his eyes out just so you can comfort him?"
Kentarre scowled darkly and countered , "Well, we won't know until we get there, now will we?" Harry started to caution Kentarre, but stopped when Snape's eyes flickered in his direction. Harry knew that Snape could take what Kentarre just said and turn it into disrespect, giving him reason to deduct fifty points from Gryffindor in the blink of an eye.
Snape, however, merely said in a voice that spoke volumes of irritation, "Very well. You may move on." He, with some apparent great effort, stepped aside to let them pass.
Now, they might've gotten away right there just fine with no harm done. But Kentarre would have none of that. "I'm thrilled to have your permission," she said as they went by, her voice saturated with sarcasm. Snape scowled after them, his dislike for the silver-haired student showing just a little less than did his dislike for Harry. Harry was, in a way, glad that Kentarre was there to deal with Snape when he decided to interfere. Now, he knew very well what it was like to catch Snape on one of his bad days, which Kentarre frequently did, but the girl showed none of the irritation that he usually felt when he had just had a talk with that particular professor. In fact, as Harry examined her expression, she seemed calm, almost satisfied.
On an impulse, Kentarre looked over at Harry. "I love talking with him," she told him. "It keeps me on the edge. It also lets me know that he still reasonably hates me." Harry tried not to stare.
However, when they got outside and Kentarre headed straight for Hagrid's cabin, Harry just couldn't keep from asking. "Why are we going to Hagrid's?"
"To find out if he saw anything. There's always that chance that coincidence will happen, and I just want to make sure."
"So what if he did see something?"
"I'll think of something."
"You mean you don't know?"
"Yet. We'll just see how the situation presents itself."
"You're being scary again."
"I'm only scary if you don't trust me."
"How can I trust you when you're always improvising?"
"Do you want to get into a discussion about this?"
Harry very much wanted to say 'we already have', but the Kentarre's tone stopped his tongue. He was silent all the way down to the little wooden hut that was Hagrid's home.
When they got there, Hagrid let them in with hearty claps on the back. "Where're Ron an' Hermione?" he asked them jovially. Kentarre replied, "They got caught up, so we thought we'd just come along anyway." Hagrid frowned, but he didn't say anything.
Instead, he offered them tea and a plate of blueberry dumplings that were rather rubbery. They accepted the tea, but declined the dumplings. Kentarre got right into a conversation. "So, Hagrid, how are the wraiths?" she asked him.
"Oh, they're doin' alrigh'. Some of 'em are a bit edgy, but I can't seem to figure out why."
"Edgy?"
"They won't sleep very often, an' they jump at every little noise."
"I see. Hagrid, how many wraiths do you have now?"
"Seven."
"And how many did you start out the year with?"
"Ten."
"Do you know what happened to the other three?"
"Well, I don't righ'ly know. They just sort o' disappeared, like."
"I see."
After that, Hagrid changed the subject, and the conversation turned. Then Harry brought something up. "Hey, Hagrid, do you know what Dumbledore's planning for this year's Christmas?"
Kentarre looked at him inquiringly, and he asked her, "You mean you haven't heard? The whole school's buzzing." Her eyes flashed. "No, I hadn't heard. What exactly are they saying?"
Harry gave a sidelong glance at Hagrid, and then he told her, "Well, I hear that he's not hiring anyone to provide music, but that during the Christmas feast, students will get up and play music at different intervals. As I understand it, he's going to let each house have three candidates, and everyone in that house will vote. They'll play at different times during the feast. Is that right, Hagrid?"
Hagrid had a twinkle in his eye. "Well, now, I'm not suppose' teh tell yeh that. That's a secret, see, an' Dumbledore asked me teh keep my mouth shut." He looked rather proud of himself.
Harry attempted to goad Hagrid into telling them something more, but he refused to ruin the surprise. Then Kentarre announced that they'd better be heading back to the castle to do homework, and Harry agreed with her. They thanked the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds and then left, heading towards the castle.
Once Hagrid had closed his door, Harry muttered to Kentarre, "Shouldn't we be turning around now? The Forest is back that way." He gestured behind them.
Kentarre replied in low tones, "Not the part of it that we want. We'll go around back to the Quidditch field and then turn right, straight into the Forest."
They rounded the castle and came upon the deserted Quidditch field. However, Kentarre stopped just as they came around the wall. Harry asked, "What?" and she motioned for him to be silent. He came to join her up against the stone wall, and he saw that she had two fingers on her temple, apparently concentrating on something.
Momentarily, Harry heard a cry from above, and as he looked up he saw a bird spiraling down toward them. On silent wings, Nemesis descended to land with a feathery flap on his mistress's arm. She conveyed something to him by making sounds that so duplicated those Harry had heard the falcon make that it surprised him, and Nemesis replied with a similar series of coos. Then she lifted her arm and he took wing, flying ahead of them a little ways, but making sure to keep in their sight. Harry asked her, "What was all that about?"
"Nemesis is going to go ahead as our scout."
"What's he scouting for?"
"Anything that might in any way get in our way."
"Oh. How's he going to let us know if he sees anything?"
"I've given him instructions to screech once if we're supposed to change directions, screech twice if he's seen someone besides us, and screech three times when we're about to come upon Voldemort's hideout."
"Won't they suspect something?"
"Not really. As I hear, falcons are fairly common in England. Let's go."
The forest was damp and dim as it always had been, but there was something about it that didn't feel right. For some reason, Harry got the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He lost count of how many times he glanced behind them. But when he looked over at Kentarre, she didn't seem to be affected by it.
Which is why he was so startled when she murmured under her breath, "Someone followed us." Harry couldn't help but stare. Kentarre then proceeded to mutter a few choice oaths, and Harry was alarmed. "Can you tell who it is?"
"No. Whoever it is, he's very good. Just keep your eyes peeled, and let me know if you see anything."
"I haven't been able to see him so far. Who do you think it is?"
"Well, it could be one of two people. I don't want to make a concrete guess, so let's just leave it at that."
Just then, a lone falcon cry came to them from somewhere overhead and to the left. Immediately, Kentarre struck that way, following the sound. Nemesis led them in a large arc, and then there were three consecutive screeches. Kentarre got down into a crouch, motioning for Harry to do the same and follow her. They went forwards for a ways, and they found Nemesis perched on the branch of a short pine. Kentarre conveyed her thanks in a series of coos, and then the bird noiselessly took off again.
Kentarre proceeded on through the bushes with Harry close behind. They hadn't gotten very far when she made an abrupt halt, throwing her hand out to catch Harry by the chest before he stumbled over her. Harry followed her staring eyes and, with a jolt, recognized what he saw.
There was a well-made camp comprised of about five or six tents, the biggest one being in the center of it all. They were all black with a symbol on the door; a skull with a snake emerging from its mouth, embroidered in green. There were people in black cowled robes walking around at a steady, rhythmic pace. They did not speak nor look at each other, but moved as if with a common purpose.
Just then, someone emerged from the largest tent. This man did not walk at the stately pace of the rest of them, but he hurried with jolting steps, stumbling this way and that and muttering to himself. Harry didn't have to see the man's face to know who he was; this man owed Harry his life, and he had had a hand in Harry's near-death. The man's name was Peter Pettigrew, known to many as Wormtail. He disappeared into a smaller tent and reappeared shortly, carrying something clutched in pale fingers. He jerkily made his way through the throng and back through the tent flap of the large tent.
Kentarre faintly nodded her head. "So," she said after a pause, "he's got something planned." Harry whispered, "How can you tell?"
"I can feel it." She pulled up her glove so he could see that the rings on her left hand glowed familiarly, but her eyes remained far away, staring at the black tent that Wormtail had gone into. "He's got his weapon with him, but he's not ready yet. He's brought in some test subjects, but his skills are but a faint memory. When he turned human, nearly everything Kelohran about him was erased. His blood flowed red; his body forgot everything. But it couldn't erase what his mind knew. He still had his memories, and that's what makes him so dangerous. You see, with all that information stored in his head, there's nothing to stop him from reteaching himself what his hands once knew. He's begun the process, but he needed practice. So he sent for random test subjects--wizards, of course. They've all gone mad now. He overwhelmed them, and their minds responded in the best way they knew how." Harry was staring at her incredulously. "They went mad?" he repeated. She nodded grimly, her jaw set.
"How?"
"Well, when he started overtaking their wills, he made them do all manner of things that nearly killed them. Their minds were wasted because of the tremendous force pushed on them."
"So what happened to them?"
"He discarded them at various places in England."
"But if they've gone mad, they could die out there!"
"Do you think he cares what happens to them? He's finished with them; as far as he's concerned, they're already dead."
Harry felt a terrible anger at this. Voldemort had gone too far. It was high time that somebody stopped this.
Kentarre put a hand on his arm. He looked at her sharply, trying to keep his outrage out of his expression. She narrowed her eyes. "Now's not the time to be heroic."
Harry felt a tinge of annoyance, and he avoided her eyes, trying to pull away from her grasp.
"No! Harry, listen to me." He could feel her eyes burning into him, and he couldn't help looking up to meet them.
Kentarre's face wore an expression he had never seen there before. It was a mixture of understanding and compassion and a trace of the same anger that he felt. "You have to stay quiet. We can't just barge out there and start making noise. They outman us twenty to one--and that's not including Voldemort. The time isn't right." Her voice then softened almost imperceptibly. "He's hurt me too, Harry. I wish as much as you do that I could change this, but we both have to stick it out to the end. Don't worry-" She winked at him, and a small smile came to her pale face. "He'll get what's coming to him."
Suddenly, there were two falcon cries from somewhere in the sky behind them. Kentarre's eyes narrowed, and she replaced her left glove as she glanced behind her. "He's caught up with us, and he's somewhere out there," she indicated behind them with her head. "Stay here. I'll go check it out. Stay out of sight, and don't make any noise."
Harry was about to protest, but she disappeared into the bushes before he could say something. *She meant to do that,* he told himself irritably, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.
Kentarre crept back on silent feet, listening almost too hard for any misplaced sound that might lead her to their tracker. She could no longer hear Nemesis. The forest was quieter than a graveyard at midnight. The trees seemed to be holding their breaths, and the air was still yet piercingly cold.
Suddenly, there was a nervous flutter, and a flock of birds shook themselves out of the trees, flowing as one toward the sky. Kentarre winced at the sudden noise, and then she heard them--the receding footsteps, heading off to her left at a dead run. She shot off after them without thinking twice.
She learned shortly that she was gaining on whoever it was ahead of her, and soon she caught glimpses of a black robe. A closer look showed a short person with blond hair.
Kentarre reached out and caught the tracker by the back of his robes and spun him around, locking a grip on his arm. She looked into his face and swore.
"Malfoy, you'd better have a good reason for this," she growled.
The boy's eyes were triumphant. "I have a perfectly good reason for it, Kentarre, but that's none of your concern. The point is that I know now why you and Potter have been sneaking away on these little excursions. You're spying, and I know who you're spying on."
Kentarre thundered, "You fool! Do you know who you're messing with?"
"Ooh, what're you going to do, Kentarre? If word that you're threatening me reaches Dumbledore, I wonder how he'll take it?"
"Boy, you're crossing lines here."
"And what do you call what you're doing? Look, you don't want me to tell anyone, and you can't stop me from following you. I don't know what it is you're doing out here, but I'm going to find out whether you like it or not."
Kentarre ground her teeth. "We'll see," she said shortly. She turned to the north and was silent for a few moments. Presently, a figure came out of the forest, a man dressed in nondescript brown clothing. He and Kentarre conversed quietly in another language, and then Kentarre released Malfoy from her grasp. She immediately turned and strode away.
When Malfoy moved to follow her, the man caught him with a well-placed hand at his midriff. "Where are you going?" he asked coldly. Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he said, "I'm going after her."
"Ah, that, my friend, is where you are wrong."
Malfoy attempted to push past the man, but he suddenly found himself shoved with great force up against a nearby tree. He cried out and attempted to run, but his muscles froze up, and he was unable to move. He was forced back to the tree, where the man eyed him shrewdly, one hand stretched out toward him. "Well, neighbor, now that we understand each other, how about being agreeable? If you're very quiet and don't make a fuss, I'll ask Kentarre not to be too harsh with you."
Malfoy sneered. "I'm not afraid of that wench."
"Ah, but there, neighbor, you are wrong. You are afraid of Kentarre; very afraid."
Kentarre stormed away, trying not to make too much noise. She heard no more from Nemesis.
Suddenly, someone stepped out in front of her, causing her to come to an abrupt stop. His face was covered in a deeply cowled black cloak, but Kentarre knew him the instant he spoke.
"You've been overmatched again, Kentarre," he sneered.
She narrowed her eyes. "How did you find me?"
"Simple. I gave the boy a certain tracking device and told him to follow you."
"Electronic devices don't work on Hogwarts campus. How did you do it, Learst?"
"I've told you to stop calling me that, and how I did it is none of your concern. However, if I were you, I would be deeply worried about young Potter. He's in for a nasty surprise when we catch him."
At this, Kentarre began to swear quite colorfully. The man's sneer grew. "You know, you really should watch your language, Kentarre. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've picked up a few more phrases since last we met."
"Would you like to hear some of them?"
"Ah, no, thank you, I have some urgent business to attend to. Ta ta!" With that, he Disapparated.
Kentarre swore some more, and then she leapt into the air above the trees and made a beeline for the spot where Potter (she hoped) lay hidden.
Meanwhile, Harry lay as still as he was able under the bush. There were a few moments of panic as he thought that he saw a few people glance his way, but they never acknowledged his presence in any way, if they had seen him.
Unfortunately, this couldn't last.
Harry saw one of the men run up and murmur something to a group of loungers, and they all looked over directly at Harry. Harry froze, but it was too late; they walked over toward the bush, showing no signs of changing direction at the last minute. When they came within two paces, one of them barked, "Come on out! We know you're in there!" Harry, however, remembering his instructions from Kentarre, stayed put, attempting to slow his heart pace down enough to think of something. It didn't work.
One of them dove his hand in the bush and came out holding the back of Harry's robes in a fist. Harry was dragged to his feet and wordlessly marched away. His escort stopped in front of one of the tents, and Harry was pushed inside alone.
Inside it was dark, but some daylight seeped in from under the cloth walls. Harry could see a room that was about ten feet squared, and it was completely bare.
After a few moments, someone entered through another flap, presumably from some other part of the sectioned tent. The person, like the rest of them, was cowled in black, but this one pushed back his hood and peered at Harry out of beady eyes. Harry knew him, and he felt as though icy fingers were running up his spine to the back of his neck. His voice came out in a quiet but steady tone.
"Wormtail."
Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking... but I CAN end it there, and I WILL!