"So…what are we doing today, then?" Seamus asked, arms crossed, lying upside down on the chair.
"I don't know. We could go to Hogsmede," Dean offered. Harry and Ron were playing a very boring game of wizards chess on the floor, and Neville was watching. It was boring because they all knew who was going to win: Ron.
"We went to Hogsmede last week."
"We could go see Hagrid."
"We only saw Hagrid last night!"
"…We could always do homework?"
The four boys stared at Dean as if he was crazy, and so he shook his head. "Yeah, I know, but I can't think of anything else."
There was a few minutes silence. Then Seamus spoke up again. "So, what do you wanna do?"
Dean cocked his head to one side in thought. "Well, we could always…"
This lasted for a long time. It was a vicious circle.
"Why don't we just laze about here all day," suggested Harry, concentrating hard on his queen and the many evil white pieces surrounding it.
"Because I'm bored!" protested Seamus. He sat upright and laid his hands down on each arm of the armchair.
"There's nothing else to do," Ron pointed out.
Seamus stood up suddenly. "I know, let's go to hogsmede!"
Ron, Harry and Neville stood up in agreement, and the four boys left for the portrait hole leaving Dean feeling annoyed. "Does no one listen to me any more?" he muttered, before following his friends out.
"I've got a meeting with Dumbledore this afternoon," Harry told Ron quietly, as they lagged behind the others, trying to get some privacy.
Ron gave Harry a look. "When?" he murmured.
Harry checked his watch. "In about two hours."
"What's it about?" Harry looked at Ron sceptically, who shook his head in apology. "I know; I know what it's about…" They both looked around before Ron went on. As Dumbledore had said, there were many spies of Voldemort. "I mean…any news?"
"Remember the mirror I told you about? With that parseltongue writing on the back?" Ron nodded. "Well I think we're going to have another look at that. Sirius said Dumbledore had a few ideas as to what it meant."
Ron said nothing and smiled as Seamus stopped and turned to wait for them.
Harry reached the new robes shop and stood outside it, looking up at the name. He'd split up from the others because he wanted to buy Christmas presents for them all. The name above the shop was in silvery writing with gold spluttered around the edges. It read: "Ronnanita's Robes". Harry and Rebkah (head girl) were planning a New Year's party, and Harry decided that Ron needed a new robe.
He walked into the navy blue shop and looked around. He found a really nice green robe with tinted gold at the edges, but decided against it (he thought it might clash with Ron's hair). Then he saw a gorgeous (a/n: although that is not the word he would use, the author can't think of a better one!) gold/brown one. It was lined with silver beads in dotted patterns. Not too extravagant, but not too plain and boring either.
"Nice choice," sounded a voice over his shoulder. Harry turned. It was Cassandra. He smiled nervously. "Hi," he said.
Cassandra studied the robe and then looked at Harry. "Not sure it would suit you though. It would clash with your beautiful eyes."
Harry tried to ignore the fact that Cassandra had said he had beautiful eyes, and spoke: "Oh, it's not for me. It's for my friend, Ron."
Cassandra looked confused. Harry realised that she might not know anyone, yet. She had only been at the school for a few weeks. "Is he the one with red hair who's always following you around?"
Harry laughed. "Yes, but he's not always following me around. He's my best mate."
Cassandra nodded and smiled. There was an awkward silence. "Um, so…what you buying?"
"Oh, I'm here with Draco. He's just trying something on." Harry's blood went cold. For a moment he had almost forgotten that Cassandra was a Slytherin. Cassandra must have noticed this change in Harry. She said, "Yeah, I noticed you and Draco don't seem to get on very well."
Harry smiled bitterly. "Understatement of the century," he muttered, frowning.
But Cassandra just laughed, the sound making Harry's heart jump slightly.
Draco came out of the changing rooms wearing a long, black robe that reached his feet. "Cassie, what do you think?" he asked. Cassie? Harry thought he was going to throw up.
Cassandra walked over to Draco and smiled. "It suits you," she said.
Then Draco noticed Harry and his eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, it suits you perfectly, Draco," Harry said, agreeing. "Always knew you'd turn yourself over to the dark side. Oh, did I say dark? Sorry, I meant black."
Malfoy looked at Cassandra then back to Harry. "What are you doing here, Potter?" he asked.
"Practising Quidditch," Harry answered simply. Draco looked confused, but then understood. He simply frowned, embarrassed, his cheeks shading a slight tint of red. "Speaking of which," Harry went on, "I hope you're ready for our next game."
"Not until after Christmas," Draco stated. "Plenty of time for us to get ready to whoop your asses."
"Yeah? Well we don't need time," Harry pounced back. "My team could beat you anytime, and you know it."
Draco looked pissed. Harry was ready for a fight, though. He knew he could use his mind, but he couldn't give it away, so he had one hand in the pocket where his wand was, ready to pull it out if he needed to.
"Come on Draco, just buy the robe and let's go," Cassandra pleaded, quietly. Harry had forgotten about her. He looked over at her face, and in it saw confusion, fear, and…something he couldn't quite place. Something secretive….
"Yeah. Bye, Malfoy," Harry said as his rival was dragged over to the counter. "That robe goes great with your lightbulb of a head." Malfoy turned his head and glared, but knew he could do nothing more whilst Cassandra was there. Once the two had left the shop, Harry's frown disappeared. He felt a sudden rush of feeling placed on Malfoy that he didn't quite understand. He felt angry that he was with Cassandra. She was so nice. Malfoy was so…horrible.
Harry shrugged off the feeling and decided on buying the robe for Ron. He paid for it with the coins from his pocket and exited the shop, heading for The Three Broomsticks where he said he'd meet up with everyone.
Harry entered the Three Broomsticks and looked around, spotting Ron and the others in a far corner. It looked as though they had met up with Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting with them. Harry made his way through the throngs of people and pulled an empty chair round to sit by Lavender. "Hi," he said.
"How did your little solitary shop go?" Parvati asked.
Harry groaned. "Well, I bumped into Malfoy, saw his dark side, and had one of those moments where you'd really love to kick the shit out of him but can't because there are people there." Harry sighed.
Ron laughed. "Who was there?"
"Cassandra."
Ron and Seamus grinned suggestively.
Harry sighed again and frowned in annoyance. "Stop it, ok? There were lots of other people in the shop, there was no way I could start a fight with him. And I don't fancy Cassandra – besides, she's going out with Malfoy."
Ron gasped sarcastically. "No…never!" Harry smiled wryly. "Seriously though," Ron continued; "You didn't really think you had a chance with a Slytherin?"
"No, I didn't," Harry said shortly. "Because I don't want a chance with a Slytherin." Harry was really starting to get annoyed. He knew they were only trying to help, but it had only been a few months. How did they expect him to be over Hermione?
"Harry, you do know that we wouldn't care if you fancied this new girl, right?" Neville put in.
"Yeah, because it is ok to like someone else. Someone new," Dean said.
Harry frowned and looked round at all their faces. Sympathy…he didn't need sympathy. Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Look, I don't like her ok, so shut the hell up!" Harry said loudly. "And I don't need you trying to get me off Hermione!"
At the mention of Hermione's name, most people in The Three Broomsticks had heard and looked over at the gang to see what was going on. Harry ignored the stares. Ron looked sorry, and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off. "I won't forget her that easily, ok?"
Ron nodded slowly. Harry leaned back again and stared down at his butterbeer which had been pre-ordered for him before he had walked in. He lifted it up and drank a bit. Slowly, sound rose up again and everyone around started talking as if nothing had happened. They were used to big scenes; nothing new had just happened.
The gang started to talk about Christmas, and Harry joined in, trying to forget that he had just been really angry at them. The last thing he needed was to lose another friend…
Harry was with Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus, Snape, Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher in a random classroom somewhere on the second floor. Harry had reached Dumbledore's office finding them all standing outside, saying there wasn't enough room for them to have a meeting in his office. Dumbledore spelled the door shut, so that they wouldn't get any interruptions, and put a sound-proof spell on the walls so that no one could here.
Harry was sitting on a table next to Sirius whilst Remus, Snape, Arabella and Mundungus sat in various chairs around them, and Dumbledore standing at the front, holding the only witness to young Martha's tragic and sudden death – the mirror.
"I have been studying this mirror for a long time," said Dumbledore loudly. "After what Harry here said about the riddle on the back, I have been pondering with my pensive over it for quite some time. I think I may have figured it out, although I am not certain." Dumbledore lifted the mirror up high and stared at the back. "I have no idea what this says," he said, and looked over at Harry. "But I trust you are right in what you translated: The blood will not stop, the pain shall go on, 'till the heir to the light, shall step forward and fight."
Harry glanced at Sirius whose face gave nothing away, then turned back to Dumbledore. No one said anything. "So…what do we think?"
Dumbledore's face didn't change one bit. "Is it not obvious? The heir of Salazar Slytherin must have written this; he wants to fight the heir of Godric Griffindor; it must be that otherwise why would he have left the mirror here? And until they do meet and fight, he will not stop killing." Harry had always been astounded by Dumbledore's wisdom, but the head master still managed to surprised him even now. As soon as he had finished speaking, it clicked in Harry's mind; he thought he should have known that, it was now becoming so obvious to him. That's what the riddle meant.
Though something did puzzle Harry. "Um, professor?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Assuming this is Voldemort we're talking about, surely, after he has fought the heir of Griffindor, if he doesn't win, he's dead, but if he does win, and kills this person, the killing won't stop. Wouldn't it just get easier for him to kill and take over?"
A few moments silence. Everyone looked at Harry and Harry willed his ears not to shade red. If only he were a girl with long hair, he could cover his barbecue ears. Dumbledore smiled. "It seems Mr. Potter can still manage to amaze me with his thoughts." Harry was surprised. He thought that he were the one being amazed.
"Who's the heir to Godric Griffindor anyway?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore turned away. "We don't know," Sirius said to the right of him. Harry turned and looked into his Godfather's angry eyes. "If only we did, we could stop all this really quickly."
Harry sensed something bad. "What's happened?" he asked. Sirius looked away awkwardly. "I'm not stupid, ok, I know something's happened!" He turned to Dumbledore, who had his back to him. "What is it?" he asked again.
Strangely, it was Snape who answered him. He stood gravely, standing in front of Harry and looking into his eyes. "There's been another death."
Harry's eyes widened in horror. "Who?" he asked weakly. No answer. "Who?" he said more strongly.
Dumbledore turned to face him. "Colin Creevey."
Harry went a pale white and said nothing. Colin had been in Griffindor. Just a year below him. He'd been so excited to see Harry when he first arrived at Hogwarts. They had actually been quite good friends once Colin had stopped admiring him so much.
No one said anything. There were no words to explain the horror that everyone felt in the room. Harry closed his eyes and clenched his fists tightly, letting them rest on his knees. He heard Dumbledore's voice say something about having to send the students home, but Harry wasn't really listening. Voldemort had killed so many. When was he ever going to stop? Never. Until he was stopped. Harry opened his eyes to see Sirius' hand on his fist sympathetically. Harry released his fists, but didn't release his anger. He was going to get revenge. But how?
Then Harry remembered that Dumbledore didn't know yet about his secret. "Professor," Harry said, not realising he was interrupting something that Dumbledore and Arabella were discussing. They turned their heads to Harry. "There's…there's something I should probably tell you…"
"Yes, Harry?"
Harry took a deep face and looked over at the blackboard behind Dumbledore. Everyone turned to the blackboard to try and see what Harry was looking at. Harry picked up the little piece of chalk resting on the ledge and it flew to his hand. He held it out in his palm and looked at it for a few seconds as if checking it was there, and then turned to see what Dumbledore's expression was. For the first time in Harry's life, Dumbledore looked…surprised. Harry had always assumed that Dumbledore knew or sensed everything. Obviously this had gone past him.
"How long have you been able to do this?" asked Sirius gently, still staring at the piece of chalk. He reached out and took it from Harry's hand.
"Since the summer," Harry admitted. "I meant to tell you sooner, but…"
"Can you do anything else?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting Harry's reluctant apology.
Harry nodded. "Yes."
"Show me."