Chapter Two- Anything Goes On This Night
Authors note: The title of this chapter is a line from the Misfit's song, Halloween. Yes, I do love you, Jerry Only, and I will have your baby.
After what seemed like hundreds of vials of doxy droppings later, Ron returned to Gryffindor tower, finished with detention. "Password?" Asked the fat lady. "Sockso Attica," Ron muttered. The portrait swung open and Ron stepped through the hole into the common room, where Harry was waiting. He was just finishing his essay and he looked up.
"All right there, Ron?" Ron collapsed into a seat next to him. "How'd it go?" Ron told him, and Harry sympathized, "He could have given you gloves, at least. Oh, I found something you might think is interesting, for Hermione."
"What?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Here, in our charm's textbook...the sixth year gets quite complicated. We're far beyond 'alohamora' now...anyway, there is a spell you can do called the Protamour Charm..." Ron wanted to look like he had no idea what Harry was talking about.
"You want me to make a Protamour Charm for Hermione?" He exclaimed, trying to sound shocked at the idea, even though he had already been thinking about it himself. "Come off it! We're with her half the day and the other half, well, it's not like she's helpless, is it?
"No, no, of course she's not. She's the smartest witch Hogwarts has ever seen. I just think it's a good back-up plan. Muggle-borns have already been attacked, inside and outside the school. We don't know for sure how many people Voldemort's got on his side now." Ron gave his obligatory shudder at the mention of he-who-must-not-be named. Harry sat back in his chair, but his shoulders were tight with frustration. His mind drifted back five years ago, it seemed like a lifetime, when he first met Hagrid, when he first found out about what really happened to his parents. He remembered what Hagrid told him about Voldemort's rise to power. He went looking for followers...
Harry never got to finish that thought because Ron interrupted. "Why don't you make it?"
"Because it says here," he explained, flipping through his book, "that the charm will be stronger if the wizard who creates it has feelings of l..."
Ron cut in, giving Harry a bizarre look, "That's rubbish!" But even as he said it, a hot pink blush crept over his freckled face.
"Come off it, Ron, there's no use pretending anymore."
"Of course there is!" He all but bellowed, and then stopped, realizing what he said and turned a deeper pink. Thinking to himself he couldn't see any reason why he should admit anything. Hermione could never like him, not in that way. "Look, I'm going to bed," he finished, not having any more words to carry out the conversation. Harry thinking he liked Hermione had jammed all the gears in his head.
Harry looked exasperatedly at him and called out, "Just think about it, will you!" to Ron as he ascended the stairs. It was indeed his predominant thought of the night. Ron thought about it so much that in fact the next day it was still on his mind. On his homework he found himself writing 'Hermione,' when the answer was actually 'powdered root of elderberry'. He vanished his mistake quickly, before anyone could see. Harry, thinking he might have gone to far the night before, was quiet, backing off so Ron could consider what he had said. Badgering him was Hermione's job, he thought fondly. Hermione herself was just about to ask them why they were acting so strangely when a great noise erupted from outside the library, where they were working. There was another fight; Goyle and Seamus Finnigan.
In the library they all leapt to their feet, even Hermione, reluctant as she was to leave her books. They ran out into the hall to aid Seamus, their fellow Gryffindor. Goyle had hexed him with a sticking spell so that he was glued to the floor while he delivered kicks to his rib cage.
Harry shouted "Immobulis!" and Goyle froze immediately. Hermione dashed to Seamus side, who was moaning in pain.
"He needs the hospital wing. Ron, help him up." For possibly the first time, he did as she asked without argument.
"All right there, Seamus?" Ron asked as he helped him up. Seamus just groaned as they made their way to the hospital wing, Goyle still standing there like a great ugly statue.
Madam Pince had alerted Dumbledore who arrived just in time to see Harry immobilize Goyle. He stood back and watched, knowing to fight was over. His light blue eyes were not smiling.
The next week Halloween was finally upon them, and it was a good thing because the trio was desperate for something to celebrate. So they choose this day, Halloween, or Troll-Clobbering Day as they sometimes called it, to enjoy themselves. They sat on the leaf-dusted lawns and watched the Creevey brothers practice jinx's on each other and on a few unsuspecting by passers. Hermione brought candy corn, a muggle Halloween treat that Ron couldn't seem to get enough of. Harry only had a few, as he remembered how Dudley used to shove them up his nose when he wouldn't hand over his candy bag.
As dusk began to settle, they migrated into the great hall. This year they had the Glad To Be Ghouls, a music group for entertainment. They were followed by a fortune telling show put on by Professor Trelawney. The head table had been converted into a stage, which was now set with all the divination teacher's tools. Even the sickeningly sweet smell wafted down into the audience as Professor Trelawney took a seat behind her crystal ball. Mysterious music began to play and she hypnotically gazed into the ball. She swayed a little with her eyes closed, while dramatically using her hands to call images forth, clearly getting ready for a brilliant performance when suddenly her head snapped back, and her arms went ridged. This alerted Harry to the fact that a true prediction was about to come through.
Harry's eyes darted around the great hall in attempt to discern if anyone else had caught on. He turned to Ron and Hermione and let them know that this was Trelawney really seeing. Hermione, as he should have expected, gave him a sarcastic look. But her doubts were cast aside when Trelawney spoke. It was not her voice.
"IT IS TIME!"
Gasps echoed around the hall and house heads stood in alarm, but Dumbledore raised his hand to halt them, allowing Trelawney to be heard.
"The day of the Prophecy draws nearer. The Dark Lord gathers followers. He assembles an army, but for this he will need a sacrifice!"
More gasps at this. Harry didn't understand, but Ron was turning purple.
Trelawney rose, her arms pointed skyward. "If taken before the year closes, the blood taken of a Muggle-born will ensure the victory of the Dark Lord!" After she said these words, she collapsed onto her table, knocking over her crystal ball. It went flying into the air and came crashing down in the center of Gryffindor table, the glass splintering into a million pieces, the impact causing Dennis Creevey to faint.
The Slytherin table started laughing.
Sensing an ensuing riot, the heads of house ushered all the students back to their dormitories. When they where back in the common room, Ron was still red in the face, and Harry and Hermione's persistent questioning about what a sacrifice meant didn't help.
Harry wouldn't let up. "Look, we all know the working definition of sacrifice. You're the one who was raised in the magical world, Ron, tell us what it means!"
He swallowed. "It means just that. A human sacrifice, one life is taken to empower the life of another. It's ancient, powerful dark magic. It's been illegal for centuries, of course, these days, absolutely unheard of."
"So Voldemort's going to kill somebody? How will this time be any different?"
"No, no." Ron shook his head as if trying to shake the words out. "A sacrifice is more than a murder. It's also..." he swallowed again "taking the soul."
Harry and Hermione could only stare at him in disbelief. Harry spoke up. "A Muggle-born? Who do you think she meant?
Clearly very worried, Ron stammered, "A Muggle-born. Well, there's loads of them. It could be anyone." He tried to sound confident but had gone unusually pale.
"Before the year ends? Hasn't got a lot of time, has he?"
AN- I know you want to review. Don't restrain yourself.