A/N: Hi guys!! Sorry this chapter took a day longer to update, I was busy
stuffing myself with turkey (j/k) I was also reading the BEST fic,
Cassandra Claire's Draco Dormiens. It is AMAZING! Anyways, thank you sooooo
sooo very much to my fabulous reviewers, especially A Very Interested
Reader, who is so interested that she'd reviewed almost every chapter!!
*Gives invisible hugs to great reviewer* and also to Talin, my best pal,
whose also been wonderful enough to review so many chapters. I LOVE YOU
GUYS. I was floating in the air to see that I also had new reviewers, thank
u, thank u!!!
P.S, I was just wondering if anybody got the teeny connection between Eve's password mentioned some chapters ago and the TITLE of this story? Just asking. Happy reading!!
Chapter Thirteen: The Race
"How much do you wanna bet on that, Potter?" Draco sneered.
"How about the field? If I win, then we get the Quidditch field instead of you," Eve said. The Gryffindor team started murmuring in protest, looking at Harry to reject the proposal.
"Please. I'm not gonna bet something that's already mine anyway. I'm not falling for some stupid trap you filthy Slytherins have concocted," he said witheringly.
"Not even if I give you anything you want?"
Harry turned around, a devious smile on his lips. "Anything?" he asked.
"Anything."
He thought for a moment. "Alright, you're on." Eve smiled.
"Hey, wait a second! What is she going to give you, Potter?" Draco asked suspiciously.
"Doesn't matter. It's anything I want," Harry said mischievously.
Draco looked scandalized. "Eve, don't tell me you're going to accept?"
Eve only had a confident smile plastered on her face. " Why shouldn't I? I'm going to win anyway."
"That's it. Ron, give me my broom," Harry's anger was rising up in him the whole time and it had almost reached the boiling point. He wasn't about to let this girl show him up, especially after she had so obviously proven her "allegiance" to that scum Malfoy. Ron, with a slight look of doubt on his face, handed Harry his broom.
"Just so that you Gryffindors won't go whining with excuses after your humiliating defeat, I'm going to keep things in your favor," Eve said as she walked up to Ron. She gave him a piercing gaze and said in her most silky voice, "Ron darling, would you be a sweetheart and get me the most uncooperative school broom from the lockers?" She trailed a finger across his chest and her voice was dripping with fake sweetness. Ron, however, being a teenage boy after all, looked as if his knees would buckle under him. His ears were the color of Harry's Quidditch robes. Hermione was absolutely furious. Her fingers were gripping her wand very tightly under her robes.
"S-Sure," Ron said, his voice horribly cracking.
"Why does Ron have to go get it? He's not your errand boy," she said scathingly.
Eve shrugged her shoulders. "I just want everything to be fair," she said.
"Hermione, its okay." Ron had managed to regain his composure and had noticed Hermione's anger. He walked across the field to get the broom. Harry was also getting very angry. She thought she could beat him with a crappy broom, the nerve. Ron came back with a very tattered broom, which was spontaneously flickering slightly in different directions. He was angry with himself because of the way he had let her affect him.
"Will this do?" he said slyly.
"Yes, very much. Thank you," she said, winking at him. Draco walked over and whispered something into her ear.
"You'd better beat the crap out of him."
"Don't worry," Eve said, clutching the broom. Harry rolled his eyes and mounted his own broom. As soon as Eve touched the broom, it seemed to relax a bit. She got on. Harry tossed his captain's whistle to Jeremy O'Malley, nodding his head.
"Alright. First one to finish ten laps around the Quitdditch field, I guess," he said. "On my whistle at the count of three." They both leaned forward, a look of intense concentration on their faces. Ron and Hermione looked slightly doubtful and worried. Draco had a smirk on his face.
"One. Two. Three!" At the instant of Jeremy's whistle, both of them shot straight through the air. Eve was traveling at exactly the same speed with the old school broom as Harry was on his top of the line model. She seemed to turn with exactly the same accuracy as him.
In a few seconds, one lap had already passed. They were neck in neck, neither one of them yielding to the other. The wind was whipping through Eve's hair, but her gaze was unwavering. Harry was almost afraid that his glasses would be ripped off his face. Whoosh. Second lap. The whole world was a whirring blur of color. Harry kicked ahead, urging his broom as much as he could, slightly inching ahead when he passed the third lap. Eve looked sideways at him for an instant and furrowed her brow. Ever so slowly, she crawled ahead and reached him again. Her broom gave a sudden lurch forward, and it seemed as if she wasn't expecting that, but she was ahead anyway. Fourth lap. The wind was blowing fiercely, stinging Harry's face. He needed to get ahead. Fifth lap. Eve's broom didn't look too well. She seemed to be urging it for as much as it could take. Harry wondered what had kept it from breaking. It was showing signs of slowing down and they were even again. Another swirl of color and they had finished the fifth lap. Harry felt nothing but absolute, pure, sheer, speed. Ron and Hermione were watching with bated breath as they kept pretty even for the next two laps. Harry had never traveled close to this speed for such a prolonged period of time. He was getting extremely dizzy. Eighth lap. His broom was showing signs of wavering, and so was his concentration. He found himself turning in wider angles, and he was astonished at Eve's focus. She seemed to be holding her broom together with every particle of her existence. Ninth lap. Harry didn't want to take his hand off to wipe the beads of sweat trickling down his face. One thought was ingrained into his brain. Get Ahead now. The race would be over in a second. Eve's control was faltering. He was inching ahead, every so slightly-
A very sudden impact had sent him reeling off course. Eve's broom had lurched sideways, crashing into Harry. The force had broken her broom into pieces and they were both falling through the air. Eve crashed very painfully on the ground, with Harry landing on top of her a split second later. Everyone on the field came running toward them. They were both breathing very heavily, their chests heaving. Harry's face was inches away from hers . The proximity of his face - and his body- to hers was enough to make Harry go clammy. Then he realized that everything was still blurry, even though he was not moving. His glasses had flown off his face. Then he felt warm fingers clearing his wet hair out of his face and slipping his glasses on. Eve's face, flushed and full of excitement, came into focus.
"If you wanted to be on top, you could have just said so," she said before smiling. Harry rose up, going even more red. He was still catching his breath, and his entire body was aching, although Eve had somehow softened his fall, he was guilty to admit. He wondered how much pain she was in, so he decided to be a gentleman and help her to her feet. She got up, wincing and nodded a thank you.
"Harry, you alright, mate? That was a nasty crash," said Ron. Hermione was very pale.
"I'm fine," he grunted.
"That was a complete tie, nobody won," Jeremy confirmed.
"Only because of Eve's broom. If she had mine, she would have outlapped Potter by a minute." Draco had a look of utmost contempt.
"It's okay, Draco. I chose to ride that broom. Guess I underestimated the famous Harry Potter," Eve's smile never left. She turned to Harry. "It's a tie, then," she said, outstretching her hand. Harry shook it curtly. She smiled even more broadly, and pulled Harry toward her. "Thanks for the ride," she whispered into his ear, her emerald eyes glinting. Harry gave a half- smile back. She motioned to the rest of the Slytherins to clear off. Draco followed her, grumbling inaudible curses at them. Harry looked on after them.
When they had all left, Harry clapped his hands together and said, "Well, I think we've wasted enough bloody time. I hope we can get in a few practice runs." He tried to shake off the electrifying effect that Eve had on him. He had been so close to her. Her shiny ebony hair had been strewn around her face , her green eyes sparkling through the strands. He had felt the breath of her gasps, her soft fingers. His face was still embarrassingly burning. It was almost enough to drive him mad. He took a big, calming breath as he watched everyone else shake off their amazement at the race and get ready to mount their brooms. The practice went on without any more incidents. Hermione and Ron sat together in the stands, paying more attention to each other than Quidditch. (This was especially out of character for Ron, who talked about Quidditch more than Hermione talked about Hogwarts, a History).
The team landed on the ground. "Good practice, Harry," Jeremy said, patting his shoulder.
"Even better race, if you ask me," Sarah Fawcett replied. Harry rolled his eyes. Ron came up to him, his arm around Hermione, who was laughing and grinning from ear to ear just because of the mere presence of him. They looked so utterly happy together. Harry wanted that so much, it was painful.
Then Ron asked him, amid chuckles, " So, Harry. What was it exactly you were going to make Eve do if you won?" he had a curiously sly grin. Al the other members of the team were listening intently. Harry returned Ron's grin with an equally stealthy one. He turned around to leave, his hands in his pockets, whistling and faking an innocent gaze up to the sky, all without answering.
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Thankfully, the next week passed quickly and without much excitement. Harry was waiting impatiently for Sirius's letter. Dumbledore had told them last week that he would be writing to Sirius to warn him. He wanted desperately to know when he was coming and how he was doing at Lupin's. His wish came true that morning at breakfast. Hedwig swooped down and dropped a letter.
"Is it from Sirius, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," he said as he opened it excitedly. It read:
Dear Harry,
I received Dumbledore's letter with his warning. Apparently, Voledomort was lurking around because of his daughter. Do not worry about me. Buckbeak and I are doing fine and Remus sends his best wishes, although I daresay Buckbeak has made a mess of his house. I'm trying to convince him to take up his old job at Hogwarts. Things are more dangerous than ever, if Voldemort is willing to come near the school. As I said before, he's getting more and more confident, which shows that he's accumulating more and more followers. I think we both should be here to protect all of you. I will be coming in a few days, keep your eyes open for Padfoot. I'm looking forward to seeing you all soon. I've heard you're almost as tall as your father, now. Harry, you have no idea how proud we all are of you. All the more reason why we should be cautious concerning your safety. You'd better behave yourself and stay clear from that girl. Send my best regards to Ron and Hermione.
Sirius
"He's coming back in a few days, he says," Harry announced, "And he's trying to convince Lupin to come, too."
"Oh, dear God, please let him come. Seeing Snape at Potions only is enough for me, thanks." Ron said. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had failed to find a Defense Against Dark Arts teacher at all. The job had an immense superstitious fear to it. Instead, Snape had agreed to teach two classes. Sometimes Eve taught the lower years when Snape was too busy. Even though she had almost no experience, Snape believed that she had astonishing talent with potions. Dumbledore hesitatingly agreed, because he needed all the help he could get from the other teachers to find out about Voledmort's whereabouts and to gather together as many supporters as he could. If Lupin agreed, he would get the job back in a heartbeat. But, Harry knew Lupin. He was still a werewolf after all, and even though advances had been made to the Wolfsbane potion, he would still not be very willing to put everyone in the danger. If only Sirius would be able to convince him that the increasing danger of Voldemort was more than his own.
" Looks like we're not the only ones with post," Ron said, pointing at the Slytherin table. Eve's black phoenix came fluttering down to her table. She took the letter, fed Zenith a piece of toast, and the bird flew off. She motioned Draco to kneel over to her and read the letter. After they had finished, they both had blank expressions on their faces, as Eve pocketed the letter and resumed her breakfast.
"Harry, there was no sign of You-Know-Who last week, as Hermione had listened." Ron said.
"Exactly. I heard them, and that's why they probably rescheduled. To when, we don't know," Hermione said, worried. Harry squirmed in his seat.
"I hope Sirius will be alright."
_____________________________________
Later that evening, Ron and Harry were playing chess, trying to ignore Hermione's badgering.
"Harry, come ON," she urged, "you ARE taking the O.W.Ls aren't you?"
"I guess, everyone says I should," he admitted.
"Of course you should! It looks very well on your resume after you graduate. You are thinking about what you want to do after you graduate, don't you, Harry?"
"First I'd like to concentrate on living to see my graduation," Harry said grimly.
"Stop being so stupidly morbid. McGonagall is going to give a VERY important presentation on tips for studying for these tests! You could get some very good advice. C'mon, Harry, its just a few hours in the library."
"Why aren't you badgering Ron?"
"Because he's hopeless. He wouldn't do any extra work if it killed him."
"Too right," Ron confirmed with a smirk.
Hermione leaned over to him and said tauntingly, "Besides, I reckon he's not smart enough for them."
"Hey, I resent that. I AM smart, just a tad lazy," he said, offended.
"Of course you are, love," she said patronizingly, giving him a kiss on the forehead. His cheeks turned red, not in embarrassment, but in anger.
"You know very well I could handle those exams. I'm not as thick as Crabbe and Goyle, you know," he replied.
"Well, then why don't you come with us? Harry's coming, and you'll be stuck here with nothing to do. It can't hurt."
"Who decided I'm coming?" Harry piped up.
"Oh, you two," Hermione crossed her arms and made a frustrated noise. "Fine, Ron. Just imagine the future. Let's say we're still together."
"What??? Do you mean we won't be?" Ron cried in horror.
"Relax, its hypothetical, and we ARE together, you great prat," she said, pinching his cheeks. "As I was saying, we've graduated from Hogwarts, and in a few years, I've landed a great job at the Ministry."
"Yes. and?" Harry asked as he raised an eyebrow.
"However, my hopeless boyfriend and best friend, who didn't care at all about their schoolwork, are caught in dead-end jobs, with ME supporting them." She looked at them, especially at Ron, to see the worried expression on his face. "Hurts your manly pride, doesn't it, Ronnikins?" she said teasingly.
He got up with determination. "All right, all right, I'll go to the bloody presentation."
"Good man. You too, Harry?"
He raised his arms in defeat, "Do I have a choice?"
"No," Hermione replied, and grabbed both of them by the arms and marched them out the common room. "Believe me, in a few years, you two will thank me for this."
____________________________________________
The three of them walked in the library to see that it was nearly empty, except for Madame Pince, the librarian, and Eve, who seemed to be completely taken with a thick, rather ancient book that she was reading.
"I guess we must be, er, a bit early," Hermione said, a tone of guilt in her voice.
"How early, exactly?" Ron said, narrowing his eyes.
"Only about half an hour."
Ron threw up his arms in exasperation. "What are we supposed to do until then? Why did you drag us here so early?" Madame Pince gave him a dirty look over her glasses, as Ron was being more noisy than she liked. Eve didn't seem to mind, though. She was completely absorbed in her reading.
"Well, I thought we'd get here early so we could, er, get good seats?"
"And.?" Ron said angrily, raising his eyebrows.
Hermione shifted her eyes and said in a lower voice in their ears, "Actually, I thought we could do a bit .research."
"What in the bloody hell are we." Ron began loudly.
"Shhhh!!" Hermione hissed at him. "Every day I come here-"
"Yes, we already know that." Ron said testily.
"No! The thing is, she's always here every day also. Usually in the restricted section. I thought maybe we could, er, spy on her."
"Wow, Hermione. We've been worse influences than we thought," Harry smirked.
"I'd just like to know what she's reading."
"So what should we do, use Harry's cloak and read over her shoulder?"
"No, we could just ask Madame Pince what she has checked out," replied Hermione.
"And what if she doesn't tell us?" Ron looked skeptical.
"Then we'll use Harry's cloak," Hermione said mischievously.
"Why don't we just ask her?" Harry said irritably. Obviously, he was the one who feared her the least, having almost beat her at a Quidditch race. "She doesn't have fangs or three heads, you know."
They thought about it for a while. Hermione, for once, didn't know what to say. But the scientific part of her always thought the simplest solution was always the best one. Ron shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay."
The three of them walked nonchalantly toward her. Harry took a random book off the shelf, pretending to do research with Ron. Hermione walked over to her and tried to feign innocent curiosity.
"I've noticed you've been at the library a lot, Eve. What are you reading?"
Eve looked up and considered her for a moment. "A book on advanced Transfiguration." Hermione eyed it curiously.
"This is written in Bulgarian," she said, raising an eyebrow, "You can read Bulgarian?"
"Yes, and French and Spanish and Latin and Mandarin and-" she began quickly and proudly.
"How on earth did you learn all those languages?"
"I don't know. They all just come naturally, I think. Like I was born knowing them or something." Hermione looked extremely suspicious. Eve's smile broadened. "But the most interesting books are usually written in Parseltongue."
Hermione's eyes widened. "You read Parseltongue?"
"Sure I do. Here's one. It's one of the most restricted books in the library. I needed a special note from Snape. The memoirs of Salazar Slytherin himself. It's very creepy reading it. I felt like I was reading Hitler's Mein Kampf." She showed her an extremely old book with an ink black covering and writings that were illegible to Hermione.
Hermione's eyes narrowed in the beginnings of anger. "And what does he say about us.Mudbloods?"
Eve grinned. "Absolutely horrific things."
Hermione said scathingly, "Please don't tell me you regard him as some sort of hero."
"No, don't be stupid. I was just interested to see what an old, er, ancestor had to say."
"You know, Harry also knows Parseltongue," Hermione said, threateningly.
"Does he, now? Is he here?"
"Yes, he is." She called to Harry, who had been listening, frozen, behind a shelf of books. He was so surprised at being called that he came over to them with the random book he had picked from a shelf still in his hand. Ron watched him intently.
"Er, yes?"
"Harry, Eve says she can read Parseltongue." Hermione said.
He tried to look surprised. "Really?"
"Yes, I can. By the way, why are you guys here in the first place? Nobody comes here in the evenings."
"We're here for McGonagall's presentation."
"Oh, you're taking the O.W.L.s too, are you?" Eve checked her watch, "You're a bit early. She's not due here for another half hour." Harry looked at Hermione suspiciously. He glanced in Hermione's direction with a smile.
"Well I thought I'd do a bit.research on something."
"Oh, what are you researching? What's that book in your hand?" Eve asked.
For the first time, Harry glanced at the title of the book he was holding and did a double take when he read what it was. "Oh, its, .er, nothing."
"Let me see," she said with a giggle and grabbed the book. She froze and looked up at Harry, raising one elegant eyebrow at him. She read the title. "Lady Chaterly's Lover: The Magical Tale of Unbridled Passion the Muggles Never Heard." Hermione snorted behind her. Harry felt himself go red. Eve said cunningly, "Well, I'm beginning to wish I lost that race with you, Harry."
"Must've picked it off the shelf by mistake," Harry muttered. He saw Ron trying to contain his laughter from behind the bookshelves. He couldn't help but smile.
"Sure you weren't picking up on some tips to use on anyone?" Eve asked smoothly.
Harry's eyes hardened. "Yes, I'm sure," he said with such finality that Eve halted her gaze and her tone and went back to reading her book.
"Harry, why don't you read the title of this book? Eve says its written in Parseltongue." Hermione reminded him to stop the uncomfortable atmosphere.
Harry picked up the book and read out loud, " The Memoirs of Salazar Slytherin." Hermione's gaze looked even more uncomfortable. "Did I read it in Parseltongue?" She nodded her head and Eve was looking at him in fascination.
"How did you get this remarkable gift, Harry, if you're not a relative of Slytherin?" she asked.
Harry cleared his throat in uneasiness. "Well, when er, You-Know-Who attacked me and the curse backfired, he transferred some of his powers to me. Unwillingly, of course." She was gaping at him as if he were the most astonishing thing she'd seen. Harry shifted under her look.
"Well, I um, better go now," he said. He walked quickly back to Ron, who was still sniggering. But he heard a strange voice, which he thought came from Eve.
"What else do you have in common with my father, Harry?" Hermione's eyes were very widened in fright.
He turned to her, and answered in Parseltongue, "The question is, what do YOU have in common with him?" Eve was silent. Hermione, looking very nervous indeed, got up and left quite shakily. He walked to Ron, whose expression completely changed to a somber one.
"What did she tell you, Harry?" he asked. Hermione walked over to them, too, and steered them out of earshot. Eve was still looking at them through the corner of her eye.
"What did you tell her? Hermione asked.
"That was so creepy, the way she talked to you like that. It sounded so sinister," Ron said. Harry told them what she said, and his own answer.
"She didn't say anything else," he said as he finished.
"Harry, I think Sirius is right. You should stay away from her. She's reading all these restricted books, many of them on the Dark Arts. I saw a couple of them by her. Not to mention the loads of books on extremely advanced Potions, Transfiguration, and charms. It looked like stuff that was too advanced even for the highest O.W.Ls. Stuff that was never meant to be read to be carried out, just to know the theories." Hermione looked very worried. Ron gulped.
"Parseltongue..I'm not surprised," Harry muttered to himself. There was some commotion in the entrance to the library. Students were beginning to file in for the presentation. They saw Draco walk in and sit next to Eve. He picked up the book in Parseltongue and looked at her, grinning.
"I've read the translation. Father has it in his own personal library. One of my favorites", he said. Eve looked at him and shook her head.
_________________________________
Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, sat at his desk in front of the fireplace. The familiarity of his own study did nothing to calm his nerves. Several Daily Prophets had been strewn across his desk, all with very disturbing headlines: "No News From Ministry About Azkaban Break-In," "Another Muggle-born Family Attacked This Week - Perpetrators Unknown," "10 Muggles Memories Modified Due To Appearance of Dark Mark," and so forth. Several times a day, owls would come informing him of yet another attack, yet another sign of followers of the Dark Side. Even more owls came from various people in top positions urging him to finally accept publicly the fact that You-Know-Who was back in power. He hadn't been able to sleep properly for weeks. Everything he had worked so hard to remedy, -to make everybody forget about those horrible times- everything was becoming futile. The pressure to take action was crushing him, yet he did not want to admit that You-Know-Who was coming to power. Even worse, he did not want to admit that he had been so blindly mistaken about his power three years ago..
Then he made a decision; one that he wished he made three years ago: he would finally accept what was already undeniable and cooperate with Dumbledore, and other wizards in other countries, if necessary. He did not care anymore what others would think of him, or even if he was fired. Hopefully nobody would denounce him for not acting earlier. He took out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped his quill to start writing a letter to Dumbledore.
"Mr. Fudge, sir, there is someone to see you," the high-pitched voice of his house elf had startled him so much that a large blue ink stain was spreading on his parchment. The fire had already made him sweaty, and notwithstanding the frustration of his situation. When he answered the house elf, his voice was strangely high pitched.
"Er, yes, who is it?"
"He says he is a school governor. He is saying that he has a very urgent message for you, sir, that he can only deliver personally."
"Well, let him in, then," answered Fudge wearily.
The elf walked out of the room, and in walked in a tall figure with long, white-blond hair wearing a black traveling cloak with elegant straps. His wand was visible in his hand under his cloak.
"Ah, Lucius Malfoy. What is it that you have come to tell me?" Fudge said, beginning to be friendly. Usually Mr. Malfoy was had a very serious expression, his voice touched with a sly sarcasm. His eyes were as cold as ever, but the light of the flames in the fireplace sent moving shadows across his face, making it look fiendish. What made his face even more sinister was that it was twisted into a horrible smile, an almost demoniac grimace.
__________________________________________
P.S, I was just wondering if anybody got the teeny connection between Eve's password mentioned some chapters ago and the TITLE of this story? Just asking. Happy reading!!
Chapter Thirteen: The Race
"How much do you wanna bet on that, Potter?" Draco sneered.
"How about the field? If I win, then we get the Quidditch field instead of you," Eve said. The Gryffindor team started murmuring in protest, looking at Harry to reject the proposal.
"Please. I'm not gonna bet something that's already mine anyway. I'm not falling for some stupid trap you filthy Slytherins have concocted," he said witheringly.
"Not even if I give you anything you want?"
Harry turned around, a devious smile on his lips. "Anything?" he asked.
"Anything."
He thought for a moment. "Alright, you're on." Eve smiled.
"Hey, wait a second! What is she going to give you, Potter?" Draco asked suspiciously.
"Doesn't matter. It's anything I want," Harry said mischievously.
Draco looked scandalized. "Eve, don't tell me you're going to accept?"
Eve only had a confident smile plastered on her face. " Why shouldn't I? I'm going to win anyway."
"That's it. Ron, give me my broom," Harry's anger was rising up in him the whole time and it had almost reached the boiling point. He wasn't about to let this girl show him up, especially after she had so obviously proven her "allegiance" to that scum Malfoy. Ron, with a slight look of doubt on his face, handed Harry his broom.
"Just so that you Gryffindors won't go whining with excuses after your humiliating defeat, I'm going to keep things in your favor," Eve said as she walked up to Ron. She gave him a piercing gaze and said in her most silky voice, "Ron darling, would you be a sweetheart and get me the most uncooperative school broom from the lockers?" She trailed a finger across his chest and her voice was dripping with fake sweetness. Ron, however, being a teenage boy after all, looked as if his knees would buckle under him. His ears were the color of Harry's Quidditch robes. Hermione was absolutely furious. Her fingers were gripping her wand very tightly under her robes.
"S-Sure," Ron said, his voice horribly cracking.
"Why does Ron have to go get it? He's not your errand boy," she said scathingly.
Eve shrugged her shoulders. "I just want everything to be fair," she said.
"Hermione, its okay." Ron had managed to regain his composure and had noticed Hermione's anger. He walked across the field to get the broom. Harry was also getting very angry. She thought she could beat him with a crappy broom, the nerve. Ron came back with a very tattered broom, which was spontaneously flickering slightly in different directions. He was angry with himself because of the way he had let her affect him.
"Will this do?" he said slyly.
"Yes, very much. Thank you," she said, winking at him. Draco walked over and whispered something into her ear.
"You'd better beat the crap out of him."
"Don't worry," Eve said, clutching the broom. Harry rolled his eyes and mounted his own broom. As soon as Eve touched the broom, it seemed to relax a bit. She got on. Harry tossed his captain's whistle to Jeremy O'Malley, nodding his head.
"Alright. First one to finish ten laps around the Quitdditch field, I guess," he said. "On my whistle at the count of three." They both leaned forward, a look of intense concentration on their faces. Ron and Hermione looked slightly doubtful and worried. Draco had a smirk on his face.
"One. Two. Three!" At the instant of Jeremy's whistle, both of them shot straight through the air. Eve was traveling at exactly the same speed with the old school broom as Harry was on his top of the line model. She seemed to turn with exactly the same accuracy as him.
In a few seconds, one lap had already passed. They were neck in neck, neither one of them yielding to the other. The wind was whipping through Eve's hair, but her gaze was unwavering. Harry was almost afraid that his glasses would be ripped off his face. Whoosh. Second lap. The whole world was a whirring blur of color. Harry kicked ahead, urging his broom as much as he could, slightly inching ahead when he passed the third lap. Eve looked sideways at him for an instant and furrowed her brow. Ever so slowly, she crawled ahead and reached him again. Her broom gave a sudden lurch forward, and it seemed as if she wasn't expecting that, but she was ahead anyway. Fourth lap. The wind was blowing fiercely, stinging Harry's face. He needed to get ahead. Fifth lap. Eve's broom didn't look too well. She seemed to be urging it for as much as it could take. Harry wondered what had kept it from breaking. It was showing signs of slowing down and they were even again. Another swirl of color and they had finished the fifth lap. Harry felt nothing but absolute, pure, sheer, speed. Ron and Hermione were watching with bated breath as they kept pretty even for the next two laps. Harry had never traveled close to this speed for such a prolonged period of time. He was getting extremely dizzy. Eighth lap. His broom was showing signs of wavering, and so was his concentration. He found himself turning in wider angles, and he was astonished at Eve's focus. She seemed to be holding her broom together with every particle of her existence. Ninth lap. Harry didn't want to take his hand off to wipe the beads of sweat trickling down his face. One thought was ingrained into his brain. Get Ahead now. The race would be over in a second. Eve's control was faltering. He was inching ahead, every so slightly-
A very sudden impact had sent him reeling off course. Eve's broom had lurched sideways, crashing into Harry. The force had broken her broom into pieces and they were both falling through the air. Eve crashed very painfully on the ground, with Harry landing on top of her a split second later. Everyone on the field came running toward them. They were both breathing very heavily, their chests heaving. Harry's face was inches away from hers . The proximity of his face - and his body- to hers was enough to make Harry go clammy. Then he realized that everything was still blurry, even though he was not moving. His glasses had flown off his face. Then he felt warm fingers clearing his wet hair out of his face and slipping his glasses on. Eve's face, flushed and full of excitement, came into focus.
"If you wanted to be on top, you could have just said so," she said before smiling. Harry rose up, going even more red. He was still catching his breath, and his entire body was aching, although Eve had somehow softened his fall, he was guilty to admit. He wondered how much pain she was in, so he decided to be a gentleman and help her to her feet. She got up, wincing and nodded a thank you.
"Harry, you alright, mate? That was a nasty crash," said Ron. Hermione was very pale.
"I'm fine," he grunted.
"That was a complete tie, nobody won," Jeremy confirmed.
"Only because of Eve's broom. If she had mine, she would have outlapped Potter by a minute." Draco had a look of utmost contempt.
"It's okay, Draco. I chose to ride that broom. Guess I underestimated the famous Harry Potter," Eve's smile never left. She turned to Harry. "It's a tie, then," she said, outstretching her hand. Harry shook it curtly. She smiled even more broadly, and pulled Harry toward her. "Thanks for the ride," she whispered into his ear, her emerald eyes glinting. Harry gave a half- smile back. She motioned to the rest of the Slytherins to clear off. Draco followed her, grumbling inaudible curses at them. Harry looked on after them.
When they had all left, Harry clapped his hands together and said, "Well, I think we've wasted enough bloody time. I hope we can get in a few practice runs." He tried to shake off the electrifying effect that Eve had on him. He had been so close to her. Her shiny ebony hair had been strewn around her face , her green eyes sparkling through the strands. He had felt the breath of her gasps, her soft fingers. His face was still embarrassingly burning. It was almost enough to drive him mad. He took a big, calming breath as he watched everyone else shake off their amazement at the race and get ready to mount their brooms. The practice went on without any more incidents. Hermione and Ron sat together in the stands, paying more attention to each other than Quidditch. (This was especially out of character for Ron, who talked about Quidditch more than Hermione talked about Hogwarts, a History).
The team landed on the ground. "Good practice, Harry," Jeremy said, patting his shoulder.
"Even better race, if you ask me," Sarah Fawcett replied. Harry rolled his eyes. Ron came up to him, his arm around Hermione, who was laughing and grinning from ear to ear just because of the mere presence of him. They looked so utterly happy together. Harry wanted that so much, it was painful.
Then Ron asked him, amid chuckles, " So, Harry. What was it exactly you were going to make Eve do if you won?" he had a curiously sly grin. Al the other members of the team were listening intently. Harry returned Ron's grin with an equally stealthy one. He turned around to leave, his hands in his pockets, whistling and faking an innocent gaze up to the sky, all without answering.
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Thankfully, the next week passed quickly and without much excitement. Harry was waiting impatiently for Sirius's letter. Dumbledore had told them last week that he would be writing to Sirius to warn him. He wanted desperately to know when he was coming and how he was doing at Lupin's. His wish came true that morning at breakfast. Hedwig swooped down and dropped a letter.
"Is it from Sirius, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," he said as he opened it excitedly. It read:
Dear Harry,
I received Dumbledore's letter with his warning. Apparently, Voledomort was lurking around because of his daughter. Do not worry about me. Buckbeak and I are doing fine and Remus sends his best wishes, although I daresay Buckbeak has made a mess of his house. I'm trying to convince him to take up his old job at Hogwarts. Things are more dangerous than ever, if Voldemort is willing to come near the school. As I said before, he's getting more and more confident, which shows that he's accumulating more and more followers. I think we both should be here to protect all of you. I will be coming in a few days, keep your eyes open for Padfoot. I'm looking forward to seeing you all soon. I've heard you're almost as tall as your father, now. Harry, you have no idea how proud we all are of you. All the more reason why we should be cautious concerning your safety. You'd better behave yourself and stay clear from that girl. Send my best regards to Ron and Hermione.
Sirius
"He's coming back in a few days, he says," Harry announced, "And he's trying to convince Lupin to come, too."
"Oh, dear God, please let him come. Seeing Snape at Potions only is enough for me, thanks." Ron said. Unfortunately, Dumbledore had failed to find a Defense Against Dark Arts teacher at all. The job had an immense superstitious fear to it. Instead, Snape had agreed to teach two classes. Sometimes Eve taught the lower years when Snape was too busy. Even though she had almost no experience, Snape believed that she had astonishing talent with potions. Dumbledore hesitatingly agreed, because he needed all the help he could get from the other teachers to find out about Voledmort's whereabouts and to gather together as many supporters as he could. If Lupin agreed, he would get the job back in a heartbeat. But, Harry knew Lupin. He was still a werewolf after all, and even though advances had been made to the Wolfsbane potion, he would still not be very willing to put everyone in the danger. If only Sirius would be able to convince him that the increasing danger of Voldemort was more than his own.
" Looks like we're not the only ones with post," Ron said, pointing at the Slytherin table. Eve's black phoenix came fluttering down to her table. She took the letter, fed Zenith a piece of toast, and the bird flew off. She motioned Draco to kneel over to her and read the letter. After they had finished, they both had blank expressions on their faces, as Eve pocketed the letter and resumed her breakfast.
"Harry, there was no sign of You-Know-Who last week, as Hermione had listened." Ron said.
"Exactly. I heard them, and that's why they probably rescheduled. To when, we don't know," Hermione said, worried. Harry squirmed in his seat.
"I hope Sirius will be alright."
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Later that evening, Ron and Harry were playing chess, trying to ignore Hermione's badgering.
"Harry, come ON," she urged, "you ARE taking the O.W.Ls aren't you?"
"I guess, everyone says I should," he admitted.
"Of course you should! It looks very well on your resume after you graduate. You are thinking about what you want to do after you graduate, don't you, Harry?"
"First I'd like to concentrate on living to see my graduation," Harry said grimly.
"Stop being so stupidly morbid. McGonagall is going to give a VERY important presentation on tips for studying for these tests! You could get some very good advice. C'mon, Harry, its just a few hours in the library."
"Why aren't you badgering Ron?"
"Because he's hopeless. He wouldn't do any extra work if it killed him."
"Too right," Ron confirmed with a smirk.
Hermione leaned over to him and said tauntingly, "Besides, I reckon he's not smart enough for them."
"Hey, I resent that. I AM smart, just a tad lazy," he said, offended.
"Of course you are, love," she said patronizingly, giving him a kiss on the forehead. His cheeks turned red, not in embarrassment, but in anger.
"You know very well I could handle those exams. I'm not as thick as Crabbe and Goyle, you know," he replied.
"Well, then why don't you come with us? Harry's coming, and you'll be stuck here with nothing to do. It can't hurt."
"Who decided I'm coming?" Harry piped up.
"Oh, you two," Hermione crossed her arms and made a frustrated noise. "Fine, Ron. Just imagine the future. Let's say we're still together."
"What??? Do you mean we won't be?" Ron cried in horror.
"Relax, its hypothetical, and we ARE together, you great prat," she said, pinching his cheeks. "As I was saying, we've graduated from Hogwarts, and in a few years, I've landed a great job at the Ministry."
"Yes. and?" Harry asked as he raised an eyebrow.
"However, my hopeless boyfriend and best friend, who didn't care at all about their schoolwork, are caught in dead-end jobs, with ME supporting them." She looked at them, especially at Ron, to see the worried expression on his face. "Hurts your manly pride, doesn't it, Ronnikins?" she said teasingly.
He got up with determination. "All right, all right, I'll go to the bloody presentation."
"Good man. You too, Harry?"
He raised his arms in defeat, "Do I have a choice?"
"No," Hermione replied, and grabbed both of them by the arms and marched them out the common room. "Believe me, in a few years, you two will thank me for this."
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The three of them walked in the library to see that it was nearly empty, except for Madame Pince, the librarian, and Eve, who seemed to be completely taken with a thick, rather ancient book that she was reading.
"I guess we must be, er, a bit early," Hermione said, a tone of guilt in her voice.
"How early, exactly?" Ron said, narrowing his eyes.
"Only about half an hour."
Ron threw up his arms in exasperation. "What are we supposed to do until then? Why did you drag us here so early?" Madame Pince gave him a dirty look over her glasses, as Ron was being more noisy than she liked. Eve didn't seem to mind, though. She was completely absorbed in her reading.
"Well, I thought we'd get here early so we could, er, get good seats?"
"And.?" Ron said angrily, raising his eyebrows.
Hermione shifted her eyes and said in a lower voice in their ears, "Actually, I thought we could do a bit .research."
"What in the bloody hell are we." Ron began loudly.
"Shhhh!!" Hermione hissed at him. "Every day I come here-"
"Yes, we already know that." Ron said testily.
"No! The thing is, she's always here every day also. Usually in the restricted section. I thought maybe we could, er, spy on her."
"Wow, Hermione. We've been worse influences than we thought," Harry smirked.
"I'd just like to know what she's reading."
"So what should we do, use Harry's cloak and read over her shoulder?"
"No, we could just ask Madame Pince what she has checked out," replied Hermione.
"And what if she doesn't tell us?" Ron looked skeptical.
"Then we'll use Harry's cloak," Hermione said mischievously.
"Why don't we just ask her?" Harry said irritably. Obviously, he was the one who feared her the least, having almost beat her at a Quidditch race. "She doesn't have fangs or three heads, you know."
They thought about it for a while. Hermione, for once, didn't know what to say. But the scientific part of her always thought the simplest solution was always the best one. Ron shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay."
The three of them walked nonchalantly toward her. Harry took a random book off the shelf, pretending to do research with Ron. Hermione walked over to her and tried to feign innocent curiosity.
"I've noticed you've been at the library a lot, Eve. What are you reading?"
Eve looked up and considered her for a moment. "A book on advanced Transfiguration." Hermione eyed it curiously.
"This is written in Bulgarian," she said, raising an eyebrow, "You can read Bulgarian?"
"Yes, and French and Spanish and Latin and Mandarin and-" she began quickly and proudly.
"How on earth did you learn all those languages?"
"I don't know. They all just come naturally, I think. Like I was born knowing them or something." Hermione looked extremely suspicious. Eve's smile broadened. "But the most interesting books are usually written in Parseltongue."
Hermione's eyes widened. "You read Parseltongue?"
"Sure I do. Here's one. It's one of the most restricted books in the library. I needed a special note from Snape. The memoirs of Salazar Slytherin himself. It's very creepy reading it. I felt like I was reading Hitler's Mein Kampf." She showed her an extremely old book with an ink black covering and writings that were illegible to Hermione.
Hermione's eyes narrowed in the beginnings of anger. "And what does he say about us.Mudbloods?"
Eve grinned. "Absolutely horrific things."
Hermione said scathingly, "Please don't tell me you regard him as some sort of hero."
"No, don't be stupid. I was just interested to see what an old, er, ancestor had to say."
"You know, Harry also knows Parseltongue," Hermione said, threateningly.
"Does he, now? Is he here?"
"Yes, he is." She called to Harry, who had been listening, frozen, behind a shelf of books. He was so surprised at being called that he came over to them with the random book he had picked from a shelf still in his hand. Ron watched him intently.
"Er, yes?"
"Harry, Eve says she can read Parseltongue." Hermione said.
He tried to look surprised. "Really?"
"Yes, I can. By the way, why are you guys here in the first place? Nobody comes here in the evenings."
"We're here for McGonagall's presentation."
"Oh, you're taking the O.W.L.s too, are you?" Eve checked her watch, "You're a bit early. She's not due here for another half hour." Harry looked at Hermione suspiciously. He glanced in Hermione's direction with a smile.
"Well I thought I'd do a bit.research on something."
"Oh, what are you researching? What's that book in your hand?" Eve asked.
For the first time, Harry glanced at the title of the book he was holding and did a double take when he read what it was. "Oh, its, .er, nothing."
"Let me see," she said with a giggle and grabbed the book. She froze and looked up at Harry, raising one elegant eyebrow at him. She read the title. "Lady Chaterly's Lover: The Magical Tale of Unbridled Passion the Muggles Never Heard." Hermione snorted behind her. Harry felt himself go red. Eve said cunningly, "Well, I'm beginning to wish I lost that race with you, Harry."
"Must've picked it off the shelf by mistake," Harry muttered. He saw Ron trying to contain his laughter from behind the bookshelves. He couldn't help but smile.
"Sure you weren't picking up on some tips to use on anyone?" Eve asked smoothly.
Harry's eyes hardened. "Yes, I'm sure," he said with such finality that Eve halted her gaze and her tone and went back to reading her book.
"Harry, why don't you read the title of this book? Eve says its written in Parseltongue." Hermione reminded him to stop the uncomfortable atmosphere.
Harry picked up the book and read out loud, " The Memoirs of Salazar Slytherin." Hermione's gaze looked even more uncomfortable. "Did I read it in Parseltongue?" She nodded her head and Eve was looking at him in fascination.
"How did you get this remarkable gift, Harry, if you're not a relative of Slytherin?" she asked.
Harry cleared his throat in uneasiness. "Well, when er, You-Know-Who attacked me and the curse backfired, he transferred some of his powers to me. Unwillingly, of course." She was gaping at him as if he were the most astonishing thing she'd seen. Harry shifted under her look.
"Well, I um, better go now," he said. He walked quickly back to Ron, who was still sniggering. But he heard a strange voice, which he thought came from Eve.
"What else do you have in common with my father, Harry?" Hermione's eyes were very widened in fright.
He turned to her, and answered in Parseltongue, "The question is, what do YOU have in common with him?" Eve was silent. Hermione, looking very nervous indeed, got up and left quite shakily. He walked to Ron, whose expression completely changed to a somber one.
"What did she tell you, Harry?" he asked. Hermione walked over to them, too, and steered them out of earshot. Eve was still looking at them through the corner of her eye.
"What did you tell her? Hermione asked.
"That was so creepy, the way she talked to you like that. It sounded so sinister," Ron said. Harry told them what she said, and his own answer.
"She didn't say anything else," he said as he finished.
"Harry, I think Sirius is right. You should stay away from her. She's reading all these restricted books, many of them on the Dark Arts. I saw a couple of them by her. Not to mention the loads of books on extremely advanced Potions, Transfiguration, and charms. It looked like stuff that was too advanced even for the highest O.W.Ls. Stuff that was never meant to be read to be carried out, just to know the theories." Hermione looked very worried. Ron gulped.
"Parseltongue..I'm not surprised," Harry muttered to himself. There was some commotion in the entrance to the library. Students were beginning to file in for the presentation. They saw Draco walk in and sit next to Eve. He picked up the book in Parseltongue and looked at her, grinning.
"I've read the translation. Father has it in his own personal library. One of my favorites", he said. Eve looked at him and shook her head.
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Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, sat at his desk in front of the fireplace. The familiarity of his own study did nothing to calm his nerves. Several Daily Prophets had been strewn across his desk, all with very disturbing headlines: "No News From Ministry About Azkaban Break-In," "Another Muggle-born Family Attacked This Week - Perpetrators Unknown," "10 Muggles Memories Modified Due To Appearance of Dark Mark," and so forth. Several times a day, owls would come informing him of yet another attack, yet another sign of followers of the Dark Side. Even more owls came from various people in top positions urging him to finally accept publicly the fact that You-Know-Who was back in power. He hadn't been able to sleep properly for weeks. Everything he had worked so hard to remedy, -to make everybody forget about those horrible times- everything was becoming futile. The pressure to take action was crushing him, yet he did not want to admit that You-Know-Who was coming to power. Even worse, he did not want to admit that he had been so blindly mistaken about his power three years ago..
Then he made a decision; one that he wished he made three years ago: he would finally accept what was already undeniable and cooperate with Dumbledore, and other wizards in other countries, if necessary. He did not care anymore what others would think of him, or even if he was fired. Hopefully nobody would denounce him for not acting earlier. He took out a fresh sheet of parchment and dipped his quill to start writing a letter to Dumbledore.
"Mr. Fudge, sir, there is someone to see you," the high-pitched voice of his house elf had startled him so much that a large blue ink stain was spreading on his parchment. The fire had already made him sweaty, and notwithstanding the frustration of his situation. When he answered the house elf, his voice was strangely high pitched.
"Er, yes, who is it?"
"He says he is a school governor. He is saying that he has a very urgent message for you, sir, that he can only deliver personally."
"Well, let him in, then," answered Fudge wearily.
The elf walked out of the room, and in walked in a tall figure with long, white-blond hair wearing a black traveling cloak with elegant straps. His wand was visible in his hand under his cloak.
"Ah, Lucius Malfoy. What is it that you have come to tell me?" Fudge said, beginning to be friendly. Usually Mr. Malfoy was had a very serious expression, his voice touched with a sly sarcasm. His eyes were as cold as ever, but the light of the flames in the fireplace sent moving shadows across his face, making it look fiendish. What made his face even more sinister was that it was twisted into a horrible smile, an almost demoniac grimace.
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