A/N: Greetings, gentle readers. I know it's unforgivable to keep you all waiting for so long, but there was a nasty bit of writer's block to be overcome, sorry for the delay. Thank you all for your beautiful reviews, I really thrive on them. As you will see, this chapter gives a couple more explanations, though it leaves still a lot open. Also, the relationship of Harry and Fleur develops a bit further, though not really very much. Be patient, I really don't want to rush this; it wouldn't be plausible if I did. There is nothing worse than these fics where two characters just fall into each other's arms with no obvious reason, and I'm going to avoid this as far as I can.

Enjoy and review!

Chapter 27 Stumbling

May 3rd, 1995

After careful deliberation I have finally decided to talk to Hermione. I won't tell her the exact details, she might find them too ridiculous to give the matter any serious consideration. So I'll tell her it was a dream, which, to be honest, I'm still not sure if it wasn't, after all. I'm quite certain though, that I can trust her.

I cornered her after dinner and told her about my "dream".

"No wonder you dreamed about that," she said in a very aloof tone. "After all the rubbish that girl told you. So it was Morgaine, was it? What did she say?"

I told her about the supposed qualities of the Hesperion. She was not exactly convinced.

"Well, I suppose there is a simple psychological explanation. Shape shifting and thought reading are among the oldest human dreams, so it's not surprising your subconscious links them with that mysterious stone. Add Luna's idea of the "Door to Avalon", and you have the whole thing, no magic involved at all. Morgaine didn't by any chance tell you how to use the stone to do all those things, did she?"

I didn't quite like the sarcasm in her voice, but had to admit that she was perfectly right.

"See?" she said, sounding very satisfied with herself.

I couldn't help feeling disappointed. Clever witch though she may be, she is so rational that she can be very narrow minded when it comes to ideas outside her field of intellect.

"Have you ever heard of a stone or jewel called Phosphorion?" I asked her after a short pause.

"Not that I remember. Why?"

So I told her about this, too, but didn't mention the part about the soul mates.

"What's it again? Phosphorion? It does sound familiar… What's the other one?

Hesperion? Hmm…"

"Phosphorus, the bringer of light, is the morning star, you know," Luna's voice suddenly interrupted her. Without us noticing she must have been listening to our conversation. She really seems to develop quite a habit of this. Speechless, we turned to her but, seemingly unaware of our surprise, she continued.

"And Hesperus is the evening star," she said smugly. "And you know what the beauty of it all is? They are both the same planet – Venus."

It may have been my imagination, but I had the distinct impression she winked at me before she stalked away.

Hermione's face fell.

"That's true," she said grudgingly. "I can't imagine how I could not think of it… But it doesn't make much of a difference, does it?" she added, almost hopefully.

"I suppose so."

I don't think I sounded either convinced or convincing, but I just didn't feel up to discussing it any more.

Of course I hardly dare to admit it to myself, and perhaps all this stuff about soul mates has given me stupid ideas, but in a way this new information – Venus, of all the planets! – makes me nervous.

May 8th, 1995

The Hogwarts students are not allowed to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, but Iphigenie and Margaux are going. They asked me to come with them, but somehow I had the feeling they just wanted to be polite and really would prefer me not to come. They have been with each other a good deal these last couple of weeks (ever since their failed Morgaine hoax, in fact), to an extent that I begin to feel excluded. I have a suspicion that they have found some agreeable Hogwarts boys to date, after their various abortive experiments, but they are not telling me anything. To be honest, it annoys me a bit; I mean they should know me well enough by now… Anyway, I told them I'd stay in the carriage, and there was no way not to notice their relief when I said it.

Well, perhaps it's all for the best. I really ought to try and see if there is anything in these supposed qualities of the stone. (Strange, I still hesitate to call it Hesperion.)

Evening.

Of course it was not to be expected that I'd manage the shape shifting itself in such a short time, but I think I'm a bit nearer already. I believe I have at least an idea what "my" animal is!

When I was finally alone in the dormitory, I thought of ways to help me concentrate. Eventually, I conjured a hook from which I hung the stone on its chain. Then I put a spell on it to make it swing to and fro gently and regularly. The monotonous movement did the trick, and I soon felt everything recede, and my mind started to float. It's not a good word at all, but I can't think of a better one, so "float" will have to do.

The problem with a trance is, unfortunately, that you don't remember anything when you wake up from it, so I have no idea what went on in my mind during that time. I really might have thought of it. On the other hand, if I had, I'd probably not have started the whole thing, and wouldn't have got this idea suggesting itself to me.

Because the other problem with a trance is that you need an external impulse to get out of it again, and like a stupid beginner I forgot to formulate such a condition before I started. So theoretically I ought to be still there, my mind wandering aimlessly through Merlin knows what regions.

The simple fact that I am writing this proves that without having arranged for doing so I must have got out of my trance. The impulse that did it for me was the hoot of an owl. When I opened my eyes, I saw a large snowy white owl on the windowsill, looking at me with huge yellow eyes.

It took me a minute or two to return to the here and now, and while I was staring stupidly at the bird it kept looking back at me unmoving. But when I had finally come to my senses and made a movement towards the window, it rose noiselessly and vanished right into the sunlight.

It seems stupid now that I did not realise it right away, but the owl looked exactly like Harry's. However, I don't think it can have been. What business would it have had at my window? And it did not have any letter for me either. But it's a strange coincidence, certainly.

Anyway, the owl seems to have been the external impulse that woke me from my trance, although I did not define it as such. But I'm sure to have subconsciously wished to wake up when I found the answer to my question. So there is a good chance that it really was that answer.

Now I'll "only" have to figure out how to turn into an owl… Easy, isn't it?

May 12th, 1995

After wondering for three days how to make use of my new information (if information it is), I finally got hold of Iphigenie and told her about the episode with the owl. Unlike Hermione, who would probably have said that I had been daydreaming again, she took it quite seriously.

"Great!" she said enthusiastically. "That's definitely something to begin with."

"I thought so much," I replied dryly. "Question is, where and how to begin with it."

"When we were learning about animagi," she said (of course, being seventh year, there are things she's learned that I haven't) "the most important thing seemed to be proper imaging in your mind. We never learned how to do it, mind you, according to the book you are born as an animagus, and just have to realise and then refine your abilities. Actually, the book was not quite clear about it, apparently there are only theories, but no proven facts. – Awful lot of good it was learning all that, when basically the only thing that is really KNOWN is that you don't know anything. Anyway, I suggest you put that necklace on, find a place where nobody is likely to disturb you, and picture that owl as exactly as you can. And then see what happens."

"I have a better idea. Remember that shop in the village where they sell all kind of toys and junk? I bet they'll have a toy owl, too. It might help me with the visualising bit, don't you think?"

"It might," she agreed. "And you've been living without this ability for seventeen years now, so a couple of days more won't make any difference."

May 14th, 1995

I went into Hogsmeade this afternoon. As it is again no Hogsmeade weekend for the Hogwarts students, the place was more or less deserted, and there were hardly any people in the shop. I soon found a small model of a white owl, about ten centimetres high that can flap its wings and hoot. The shopkeeper seemed to be wondering what I wanted it for, but I ignored her questioning looks and left.

On my way back to the carriage I came across the large shaggy dog that I had seen together with Harry a couple of weeks ago. He seemed to remember me too, as he came over to me wagging his tail.

"Hey Snuffles, old boy," I said to him, bending down to pat him. "You look better than last time, you know. Has Harry been looking after you?"

The dog rose on his hind legs and tried to lick my face, which I could avoid only very narrowly.

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Scruffy smelly old dog, get off!"

He looked at me and again I had the impression he understood every word. Then he turned round and trotted off towards the hills.

Evening

I have been sitting on my bed for hours, I believe, staring like an absolute idiot at the stupid owl model flying around the room, and my arms and legs have grown quite numb, but I still don't look any more like an owl than Margaux or Iphigenie.

May 15th, 1995

I had a strange dream tonight, - this time I am quite sure it WAS a dream, - which, as Hermione would be sure to explain, was due to my spending most of the afternoon watching the owl model.

I dreamed that I was that owl, and that I was flying over to the castle. And I came across another white owl that looked exactly like the one that had woken me from my trance. I followed it towards one of the towers, but when I came nearer, I suddenly woke up to find myself in my bed, with Margaux and Iphigenie sleeping peacefully in theirs. I couldn't help the impulse to look over to the window, but of course there was nothing there.

Feeling lonely and unwanted I decided to visit Gabie in the afternoon. I found her as usual in her room sprawled on the floor, with a book propped up in front of her. As always she was genuinely happy to see me, and only now I realised how much I had missed her all these weeks. Of course I told her about my crazy experience with Morgaine and the "Door to Avalon".

"But Hermione thinks it's just a dream." I finished.

"Tell her she's blind!" was my sister's heartfelt statement. "I mean, what's the difference? Even if it was an experience you went through while lying in your bed, this doesn't make it any less true, does it?"

Once again, I was surprised at her wisdom.

"The fact remains," she went on, "that you DID make that experience, and there simply must be more to it than wishful thinking. You had never heard of that second jewel – what's it called? ("Phosphorion", I interjected.) before, ever, right? So how could you have known the name? Give this to Hermione to think about!" She grinned at me widely.

When I told her about my experiments with the owl model, she laughed.

"I can just picture you," she giggled, "sitting there until you got all cramped up, waiting for something to happen…"

She went on telling me about her lessons in the Ecole preparatoire, where they are learning to do simple levitation spells, and I had a hearty laugh at her story how she accidentally hit her teacher over the head with one of her own books.

May 20th, 1995

I have been carrying on with "operation owl" most of this week, inside and outside the carriage, but apart from some very vivid dreams in which I have been flying round most of the Hogwarts grounds, nothing remarkable has happened. In addition, there is as much homework as ever. Sometimes I almost think I should forget about all these weird things, from Hesperion to Morgaine and back, and bury myself in school work. Things would be a lot easier that way.

May 21st, 1995

Saturday again, and another Hogsmeade weekend for the students. Actually, I have never understood why their headmaster is so strict with these weekends and keeps making such a big deal out of them. As it is, everybody is going there at the same time, and it's next to impossible to find seats in the brasserie or cafes. Why can't they just go every weekend they like? The place would be far less crowded then, and things would be a lot easier for everybody. And even the shops would do more business, I'm sure.

Margaux and Iphigenie have disappeared on one of their mysterious dates (or whatever it is they are up to, they aren't telling me) again, and I don't feel like going into the village all on my own; I think I'll go down for a stroll at the lake, it's a nice day, at least.

Margaux and Iphigenie have a distinct guilty look about them. I guess they sense that I feel somewhat neglected, because they have been trying to talk to me about all kind of unimportant things ever since they returned. Margaux actually asked me to play chess, which I know she is really not too keen on.

However, I have refused their offer, and have retreated to my favourite chair next to the fireplace with my diary. Perhaps writing down and reliving the events of the afternoon will help me clear my head and come to terms with myself and everything else.

I ambled slowly down towards the lakeshore, enjoying the mild afternoon sun on my face and the soft breeze in my hair. Amid some bushes, I found a large stone. Although it was covered in soft green moss, it was clear that it had been artificially shaped into the form of a bench, and as the sun was fully on it so it was pleasantly warm, I sat down. There was a beautiful view of the lake, which glittered in tiny ripples in the sunshine. At the far side, the silhouette of the castle loomed into the deep blue sky. Birds were singing around me, and the grass was full of pretty flowers. Not even the sinister form of the black Durmstrang ship could destroy the serene beauty of the scenery. There were no people to be seen anywhere, obviously everybody had gone to the village. I felt a peaceful calm enter my mind, as I leaned back gazing across the lake dreamily, letting my mind wander...

I must have dozed off for a bit, because the next thing I know is a shadow falling upon my face.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

I jumped, and it took me a second or two to recognise the speaker against the bright sunlight.

"Oh, Harry." Just the person who had been on my mind a minute ago. I'm not sure, but I think I blushed. Feeling strangely tongue-tied, I moved to the side, and he sat down next to me.

"What- I thought you had gone to the village with Ron and Hermione?"

"Didn't feel like it," came the short answer in a voice that was almost gruff. Clearly something was bothering him.

I must have betrayed my surprise at his tone, because he apologised at once.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like this. It's just, well, I felt..." his voice trailed off.

I had a sudden inspiration.

"You felt they'd rather be alone together, is that it? Fifth wheel on the cart, right?"

"What?" He couldn't help the grin that spread over his face, a wry grin, to be sure, but a grin nevertheless. "Oh, I see. Like three's a crowd. Yes, I guess you are right. Oh, they are very sweet about it, insist on me coming with them, and everything, but then I look at their faces, and it's plain they just want to be nice to me... So I told them I didn't feel like going today, and I must say they didn't try too hard to persuade me... Yes, I do feel a bit left out, I can't deny it. But how did you know?"

I turned to look straight at him, and put my hand on his arm.

"Because it's the same with me. Yes, I can imagine how you feel; Margaux and Iphigenie, they have been behaving exactly the same way recently."

"But they aren't a couple, are they?" His tone was already lighter, and his grin had changed into a more relaxed smile.

I had to giggle at the idea and boxed his shoulder playfully.

"Of course not! They are meeting some guys, I believe, though I must say they have never told me anything definite. Perhaps it's still some deep subconscious distrust of the wicked Veela..."

"No need to sound so bitter, I'm sure they don't mean it..."

This is one of the things I like about Harry - he senses someone else's troubles and immediately forgets his own and tries to reassure them.

"I know they don't - consciously. But it's hard to know that I'll never quite live down all the prejudice."

"Oh yes, how very right you are..."

There was a short pause. Then, without thinking what I was saying, I blurted out:

"Do you like her?"

I was surprised at myself, and I must have blushed furiously, but there was no taking it back. He looked at me wide-eyed, obviously equally surprised.

"What - I mean, who?"

"Hermione. If you like her - " and as I could see he didn't understand what I meant, I went on: "I mean, of course you like her, she's your best friend and all, but do like her ... as a girl?" I couldn't bring myself to say do you love her.

Any other boy would probably have denied it straight away, but not so Harry.

"Do you know, I've never really thought about it," he said slowly, frowning in puzzlement. "I guess I've always taken her for granted... She's always there, see, and ... well, I terribly miss her when she's not... that time she was petrified was horrible... And I'd do everything for her, too... But if you mean have I ever thought of kissing her, or something - no, I don't believe I have. I never dream of her, too, though I wouldn't mind to, for a change, my dreams tend to be pretty awful most of the time..."

He smiled ruefully.

"Awful dreams? Not with me in them, I hope?" I inquired, trying to introduce a lighter side to this obviously painful topic.

"Of course not. I can't imagine a nightmare with you in it," he smiled at me, but it was not an altogether relaxed smile. "I'm having these dreams, you know-" he checked himself. "But I'm sure you don't want to know. It's not a pretty topic to talk about."

"I know I'm not Hermione Granger," I said and I'm sure my voice showed I felt hurt. "But I thought we were at least some kind of friends by now, and I do wish you'd tell me."

"I'm sorry," he said at once. "I just thought it wasn't quite something for a piece of light conversation..." He saw my expression and went on hastily, "I mean not the kind of thing you'd talk about to... oh, damn, I'm making this worse... well, I guess I just didn't want to bother you with my problems..."

"So it's going to be the Lonesome Hero stuff, is it?" I said acidly, enjoying how he froze at my words. "Think I'm not good enough to share Harry Potter's problems? Dumb Blondie can't be bothered with them?"

I don't know why I was so upset all of a sudden, now that I think of it, it was perhaps some subconscious jealousy that he would not tell me things I was sure he was telling Hermione all the time. But I'm perfectly aware that my reaction was completely unreasonable, at any rate.

Feeling tears stinging in my eyes, I jumped up from my seat. That is, I wanted to, but my foot slipped, a sharp pain shot through my ankle, I stumbled, - and found myself suddenly caught in Harry's arms, his incredible green eyes only a few centimetres from mine.

I lost all sense of time, but of course we can't have been standing like that more than a couple of seconds; then something inside me snapped, I threw my arms round his neck, let my head drop onto his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry!" I stammered between sobs. "I don't know why I said those mean things, oh, how you must hate me for that! But - you don't trust me - it hurts so much..."

After a moment of shock, he started patting my back awkwardly, making soothing noises. I felt his warmth through my robes, and his touch finally made me relax. It really felt nice...

"I'm sorry," I said after some time, raising my head at last and looking into his eyes again, so disconcertingly close. "What you must think of me... I'm not normally so hysterical, you know."

"Oh, I have noticed that," he replied, and I was so happy to see the smile back in his face again. "I guess everybody can lose it once in a while..."

When I took a step back, the sharp pain shot through my ankle again, and I had to clutch at his arms to steady myself.

"Hold it!" he said, supporting my by both elbows. "Have you hurt your foot, or something?"

"It seems so."

"Hmm, what shall I do with you? Mobilicorpus? No, that's probably too undignified..." He grinned again. "Well, the good old Muggle way will be good enough..."

So I put my arm round his shoulder while he had his arm round my waist, and leaning on to him I hobbled as well as I could back to our carriage.

Of course Maxime had no problem putting my ankle right in no time, and soon Harry and I were sitting in our common room with two cups of coffee - French coffee, naturally, which he found much better than the normal Hogwarts stuff.

"So, if you want to know about those dreams of mine..." he began tentatively.

"Only if you want to tell me. And I promise not to get all hysterical again."

"I wouldn't mind if you did... Anyway, it's more or less one dream only, with variations, of course. It's always how Voldemort killed my parents-"

I drew in my breath in shock.

"Usually it's my mother, see. I can hear her screaming, 'Not Harry! Take me instead!', she says... And there is that flash of green light, and the horrible laughter... sometimes there are red eyes, too, or a snake..."

He slumped in his chair, hiding his face in his hands.

I got off my chair, and knelt down beside him.

"Oh Harry," I whispered, putting one arm round his shoulder and stroking his head with my other hand. "I had no idea... it must hurt so terribly... and I made you talk about it... I feel so awful..."

He raised his head and smiled weakly.

"Don't," he said quietly. "Actually, it's good to talk about it... Makes it easier to bear, somehow..."

He stood up slowly.

"Well, I'd better get going. They'll be waiting for me at the castle already. See you at dinner."

I stepped up to him. "Thank you," I said quietly, standing on tiptoe to kiss his forehead. "Thank you for trusting me."

I feel strangely exhilarating after the events of the afternoon, I don't quite know why, but I have a feeling that my relation with Harry has changed. I do hope it has changed in the direction I want it to. I have not told Margaux and Iphigenie about it; I want to have my own little secrets, just like them.

Harry was surrounded by a lot of his mates during and after dinner, and I didn't feel like going up to him among all those people. Somehow I felt it would spoil those moments we had shared today.

Cedric and Cho appeared only for a very short time for the actual dinner, and then vanished again. I keep trying to suppress my envy at seeing them so happy together, completely wrapped up in each other, hardly noticing anything around them.

I lingered at the Ravenclaw table for a short time after dinner, looking at nothing and nobody in particular, when suddenly Luna Lovegood plopped down on the seat next to me.

"So your animal is the owl," she said without any preliminaries, in that typical way of hers.

"What?" I was completely taken by surprise.

"The animal you can turn into," Luna repeated. "You know, with the Hesperion..."

"How do you...?"

"Oh, I saw you with that toy owl the other day," she said in her serene voice. "By the lake, you know."

"Yes, at least I think it is an owl. I'm not even sure..."

"When's your birthday?" I should be used to her abrupt ways by now, but I was surprised nevertheless.

"What?"

"Your birthday, you know the day when..." She grinned at me mischievously.

"I mean, what's my birthday got to do with it?" I was getting slightly impatient.

"Wait a moment. So when is it?"

"31st October."

"Is it really? How interesting. So your animal according to the Celtic zodiac is the OWL! Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?" She looked at me triumphantly.

I had to admit it did.

"You never cease to amaze me," I told her, at which she smiled proudly.

"Yes, my dad knows all about these things, and he's been telling me since I was little. If I were you, I'd get a book on those Celtic zodiac animals, who knows what else you may find..."

And with these words she got up and left the hall. I really must read up on this Celtic stuff some time, it may be more significant for me than I believe.