Chapter 5: Lightning

---

THE NEW GOD IS DEAD. THEY KILLED HIM. THEY KILLED HIM. - 24/7

---

From out of the orb that glowed with an eerie luminescence, a creature took shape. Within an instant of the blinding flash and the wailing screech like that of a banshee, a bird replaced the sphere. However, rather than looking like a normal magpie, such as it should, there were a few odd things about it - which Hermione, needless to say, was only too eager to point out.

"Look at that," she breathed in barely restrained excitement, her voice almost reverent awe at this creation. "I mean, I can't believe - just look at it!"

"I am," murmured Ron, more amazed it actually worked, than thrilled.

Hermione babbled happily on, "I mean, I've never heard of this spell, so I'm not certain how it works, but you would expect the ritual to copy the DNA in the feather, and grow a whole new bird out of it - imbuing it with the necessary magic to become a possible Familiar before it was complete, and Binding the Familiar to the person who chanted the spell, or who added the sample -"

"Hermione?"

" - but if you just look at it, it's pretty obvious that it doesn't work that way, not if it's cast correctly, at least. If it had, then obviously it would appear as a normal magpie, but as you can see, it's entirely white! Can you believe that? I mean, I don't understand it at all, from what Professor Flitwick said about Magical Theory, that should be impossi- look, it's even got an outline of a gold circle, just a bit above and between the eyes, I mean, it doesn't look like a magpie, you'd never expect it to be one, though it's not obvious that it's your Familiar either, so I suppo-"

"HERMIONE!"

That, fortunately, caught her attention.

"Yes?"

"You're babbling," explained Harry, though his eyes were fixed on the peculiar avis. "We noticed it was white - you didn't need to point it out."

"I was just commenting on how strange it was." Hermione scowled, and Harry and Ron's minds filled in the missing word at the end, which happened to be 'repeatedly'.

Harry shook himself out of his motionless stupor and rubbed out part of the pentagram, allowing the Familiar out. The bird cocked its head to one side, staring at him with a beady, golden eye, and gave a noise like it was choking on something. Then it hopped over to its new master, wings at its side and looking as supernatural as it was.

---

Sybil Trelawney was a world-renowned True Seer - well, in her fantasies, anyway - and although she couldn't discern emotions any more than a usual person could, she had great gifts when it came to magical objects. She didn't know how to service a broom or insert a wand core into a piece of wood - but she was a master when it came to dealing with the magical aura of an object.

If you wanted to know whether a broom had been jinxed, a jewel cursed, or an enchanted blade had really belonged to Beowulf or the shop-owner had just conned you out of a few hundred Galleons, she was the one to go to. Not many knew of this gift; to be frank, she'd rather lose it entirely, and be able to make real predictions at will, as a few of the more famous Seers throughout history could do; but still, it was something to 'let slip' at parties.

At the moment, she had forsaken a few hours of sleep to peer intently into the Myrrh Cage to try and see whatever was hidden in its depths. She had already studied it a while ago, but something - she couldn't place exactly what - had changed in it since then, and since she was going to die by the next new moon, which was the coming Tuesday, she had decided that she might as well try to find out what had happened to it.

Trelawney ran her long, carefully painted nails over the surface of the orb, looking at it from every angle. The aura surrounding it - pure white, with streaks of black above where the Tellers where. As she turned the daemonic Cage round, inspecting it, she finally saw what was wrong with the aura.

It had changed in one part, since the last time she had checked, and that had been only a few hours ago. Above one of the Tellers, the aura; instead of the black streak, had turned to a smoky, iridescent grey, and gently pulsated when she ran her hands over it. The actual Teller looked no different, but the aura was certainly unusual - unique.

Trelawney first thought of asking Figg whether this was normal, but chose against it; after all, it was highly unlikely that the other professor could see the aura, and so it was doubtful whether she would know. Her second thought was of telling Dumbledore, or even Flitwick (who may have an idea as to what it was), but the same reason quelled those ideas.

Resolving to search the darkest parts of the Hogwarts library in the morning, she slipped the Cage back into its velvet bag, and prepared for bed. She didn't get to sleep for a long time.

---

"Ajax," said Hermione at breakfast the next morning.

"That's nice." replied Harry, cramming some bacon into his mouth. "Why are you speaking gibberish?"

Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice, while Hermione just scowled. "Ajax is a name, Harry. And it would fit your -" she looked around, conspiratorially, as though no-one had anything better to do than listen in on the trio's conversations. "- Familiar, perfectly."

Harry perked up at this. "Really? What does it mean?"

"Eagle," said Hermione, proud of her knowledge of Greek names.

Ron frowned. "'Mione, I'm really sorry to have to tell you this, but he's a magpie, not an eagle."

"I know that!" the brown-haired girl snapped impatiently, "but it's a good name, isn't it Harry? It sounds really majestic, and it even means something majestic."

Harry had to admit it was true. "I'll ask him whether he likes it," he agreed, taking some toast. "I don't see why I have to hide him in the dorm, though."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, are you daft? At least in there, only Dean, Neville and Seamus will see him. If you take him down to breakfast, everyone will want to know where you got him."

That was twice in one minute that Harry had to concede that someone was right.

"Right, then." Hermione announced, finishing her breakfast. "I'm going to be in the dormitory, reading my ghost book - and that 'Rare Powers' book you lent me, Harry, so you know where to find me if anyone needs me."

---

While Hermione was in her dormitory, and Ron was in the second round of the Gryffindor chess tournament, Harry decided to catch up on his reading, too. He'd already finished the 'Cabbalistic Hierarchy', 'Ethical Magic', and 'Advanced History of the Magical World'; as Binns was so boring, most students just read the set books, and then fell asleep during the actual lessons; and he had quickly read the DADA and COMC books during the holidays. He'd even written a list of the books he had on some parchment, and was ticking them off as he went through.

He put a line through the 'Rare Powers and Extinct Abilities' - he'd forgotten to mark that one off when he'd finished it - and checked which one to read next.

'The Cosmic Classic of One Thousand Invocations'? Perhaps.

'The Dictionary of Magical Languages'? A definite possibility.

'Magical Art and Sculpture'? Well, it sounds interesting...

'A Discussion on the Uses and Placing of Magic'? Not today.

'The Domestic Use of Glamours'? Maybe later.

'Familiar Animals, Familiar Spirits'? Of course!

'The Ultimate Dictionary of Quidditch'? Who could refuse?

'Ancient Bulgarian Magic; The Gift from the Heavens'? He might as well finish what he'd started.

'The Marauders Guide to Mischief-Making'? Another must.

'The Standard Book of Spells'? A possibility.

'Within the Mind, Beyond the Sight'? Divination? Yeah, right.

'Taking O.W.Ls; the Quick Way to an Early Grave'? Worth a look.

'The Elegant Universe'? Yawn.

'Apprentice Masters' Potions'? Heck, no.

'So You Want To Speak Mermish?'? Not particularly.

'Pictures in the Mind'? Absolutely!

'Phoenix Communication; The Purest of them All'? Maybe...

When lunch-time came around, Harry had finished the books on Familiars, Bulgarian magic, and had read the first six chapters in his latest Quidditch book. Ajax was gone when he had returned from breakfast, though Dean; who had been in the dorm; told Harry he had seen the bird fly out the window soon after Harry had left.

"Your pet probably went to find some breakfast," he said, before asking what type of bird it was, and where Harry had got it. Harry was quick to reply that he wasn't quite sure what it was, but he'd got it in a magical pet shop - and that it must have returned today after delivering a long-distance letter that he'd sent just before getting on the Hogwarts Express.

He had shaken the rather disgusting thought of Ajax bent over some road-kill out of his head before reading, and over the next couple of days, everything proceeded quite normally.

Though Ron and Hermione both insisted on knowing exactly how he had found the spell to create Ajax, Harry explained that he had found the instructions in an old diary in the second-hand Dark Arts shops in Knockturn Alley (Hermione wasn't too impressed with them having been down there - though she was pleased when she tried the Charmometer, and discovered she was a Magician), and even showed her the parchment he had copied the chant on to as proof.

---

On Tuesday afternoon, however, when the trio were first to finish lunch and head up to the Divination tower, everything suddenly stopped being normal. Because, at twenty-three minutes past one, on Tuesday afternoon, Harry, Ron and Hermione found Professor Sybil Trelawney's classroom in ruins, blood stains on the walls and floor, and the professor's almost unrecognisable corpse lying on the floor, her face trapped in an agonising scream of terror.

Their reactions were what anyone would expect - freeze and yell for help. Their hesitation only lasted for a maximum of two seconds, before they acted; Harry went as white as an egg and whipped his wand out. Ron went more of an ashen grey, like a zombie from a bad horror movie and backed down the steps, eyes wide and hands covering his mouth and nose; to keep out the smell, or keep down the vomit, Harry wasn't sure - probably both.

Hermione had probably the most sensible reaction; alert others and gain help quickly. She pulled out her wand as well, but also screamed for help. When it seemed that no-one was coming, she turned to Ron. "Get down to the Great Hall, and get Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey." she told him, her eyes glistening with tears of fear and shock.

"Get Professor Figg, too." Harry ordered, not turning around. "Hermione, I think we should get out of here and close the door - we shouldn't disturb anything."

Hermione nodded, and they backed down the stairs, which rose up again once they were off. Ron's footsteps could be heard, going at break-neck speed down the hall. Harry leaned against the wall, wand still out in case whoever had done it was still nearby, and Hermione flung open the nearest door and brought up her lunch.

Harry sympathised - he felt like retching too, but he knew that would come later. Right now, he had to control himself; be ready if whoever it was came back.

The girl turned shakily around to face Harry, and gave a weak smile, letting her book-bag slip off her shoulder like Harry had done. It would only weigh them down if they had to run. "What was that?" she croaked, the taste of vomit still fresh in her mouth.

Harry only shook his head, still terrified but alert. "You're the bookworm. You tell me."

"It looked like she was drained of blood," Hermione's words stumbled out, "like a vampire bit her. She was completely drained - entirely white, all over - and there wasn't enough blood around the room to be all that was in her, so someone must have taken it. Except it couldn't be a vampire, because..." she hesitated, as though not wanting to think about the thing they had just seen, "... well, because vampires don't tear off their sections of victim's skin, or rip out their eyes and tongue." she finished, so quietly that Harry had to strain to hear her.

"Unless that was one heck of a sick vampire, it was something else." Harry agreed, the colour starting to return to his face. His ears pricked as he heard something down the corridor, getting closer - no, he must have imagined it.

But still...

Motioning for Hermione to be silent and raise her wand, Harry ran through various spells in his mind, and cursed himself for choosing to read Quidditch books over spell-books.

Fortunately, as the sounds grew closer, and his grip tightened on the wand, he realised that it didn't matter - because, as the noise-makers came into view, he saw that they were the teachers and Ron.

Dumbledore was in front, followed by Ron, Madam Pomfrey and Figg; behind them were the four heads of houses. Of course, Harry thought dazedly, if this has something to do with the Five, Dumbledore and the heads of houses are the only teachers who know, so they'd have to be here in case...

All of them had their wands out, and Harry lowered his own, and relaxed, as did Hermione. Ron gave the pair a reassuring, if somewhat unsteady grin, while Pomfrey looked over Harry and Hermione. "A bit of shock, the same as Mr Weasley," she announced, "you'll feel better after you've had a bit of rest and food."

Anything, Harry decided, if it would stop his heart from hammering.

While most of the staff checked the tower, McGonagall took the trio to the hospital wing, and then quickly left to write a letter asking for assistance to the Ministry.

"But Madam Pomfrey said it was only shock!" Ron wailed, though he didn't try to leave.

"You heard what Professor McGonagall said," Hermione answered, as Harry finally allowed himself to lose control and heave the food he'd ingested only a few minutes ago into one of the basins. "That was only a once-over. If whoever or whatever did that put a spell on the room - maybe some kind of curse, on the next people to see the body - then we'll have to be checked out thoroughly. Anyway, where would we go? Classes have been cancelled until God-knows-when, everyone's locked in the common rooms, and with this kind of murder, it's fairly likely that Hogwarts will be closed down."

"Yeah, but they said that about the attacks in second year." argued Ron, half-heartedly.

"Maybe, but unfortunately, whoever did this didn't leave a calling card, so no-one knows where to look." Harry pointed out despondently, filling a paper cup with water and washing the remains out of his mouth. "Until they find out exactly what happened to Trelawney, there won't be any clues."

"Plus, we'll have to be questioned." added Hermione. "I mean, we were the first ones to find her body, so the Aurors will want to speak to us - and they might even suspect us. Everyone's a suspect in a case like this."

Ron held his chin in his hands. "Brilliant. So the only reason we'll get to go out of Gryffindor Tower is to be interrogated by suspicious people who think we're psycho killers."

"I only said might be suspected." Hermione snapped, "Besides, we were only gone for a few minutes from lunch - that wouldn't be enough time to kill somebody. And of course, where would we put the blood? We'll be put off the suspect list pretty quickly."

"But crossing our names off won't make a dent in the list." Harry pointed out, "I mean, it would take powerful Dark Magic to do that; most likely it's someone from out of school."

Ron perked up considerably. "It could be Figg! We don't know how powerful she is!"

"Yeah; except for the fact that she was at dinner with us." Hermione sighed. "I don't know... I'm really starting to get the feeling that it was a Death Eater, or someone from out of school. But why would they want to kill her?"

"Maybe they need the blood of a Seer for a spell, or something?" Harry volunteered, but then they were silent.

---

Not even ten minutes later, a horde of about forty Aurors were staking out the school, wands at the ready and scowling grimly and dramatically at any ghost or portrait they came across.

First, Ron was pulled away for twenty minutes into McGonagall's office, where he was presumably questioned; Hermione and Harry kept themselves busy by watching out the Hospital Wing's window as Mediwizards took the body on a long stretcher covered with a white cloth to a Portkey just outside the entrance.

What was more interesting, however, was when a group of black-robed and cloaked wizards and witches appeared on the grounds, heralded by the 'whoosh' of another Portkey that they were all touching. They had some kind of symbol on their cloaks, fastening it to their shoulders, but from so far up, the pair couldn't make out what they were.

"Unspeakables." Ron informed them, making Harry and Hermione jump. "They want to speak to you next, 'Mione. It's nothing much - we're only witnesses, not suspects."

It took only about fifteen minutes for Hermione, though Harry was surprised it would take so long - after all, there wasn't much to tell, other than 'we went to Divination, we saw the body, we ran downstairs, we stood in the corridor and were sick'.

Finally it was Harry's turn to sit in the chair in McGonagall's office, opposite an Auror in the typical uniform.

"Drink this," he ordered, pushing a glass filled with some kind of bubbling, crimson liquid. "It'll improve your memory, so if there's something important that's in your subconscious, you'll remember it."

Harry obeyed him. The draught tasted like cucumber; Harry didn't know what he had been expecting, but it wasn't that. "Right, then." sniffed the Auror, a man of about forty, tall and stocky. "Tell me exactly what happened from when you left the Great Hall, to when the teachers arrived."

Harry felt the potion taking effect on him; he could recall everything as it happened for the last forty-eight hours; going further back, it was a sudden blank; one second he remembered everything, the next he didn't have a clue what he had seen forty-eight hours and one second ago.

"Well," he started, taking a deep breath, "My friends and I - Hermione and Ron - had finished lunch early, and we decided to head straight up to the next class, Divination, because it takes a long time to walk up there. Everything was perfectly normal, except when we got to the top of the stairs, I saw that the window was open; it must have been opened a while ago, because there was barely any incense smoke left in the room, and usually you can barely breathe in there.

"There were red smears over the floor, like someone had dragged a paintbrush with a really thin coat of red paint across it, and some over some of the walls and furniture. Some of the desks and chairs had fallen over, and a few of the crystal balls were smashed, like there'd been a fight.

"I grabbed my wand, but I only pulled it out when I saw Professor Trelawney. She was lying on the floor, and was face-down - but we could see her face, because her arms were flung out, and her hands and fingers were outstretched like she was clawing at the floor. Her eyes - eyelids - were open, but her actual eyes were gone. There was dried blood around them, so they must have been torn out when she alive. Her mouth was open - it looked as though she were screaming, and her tongue was gone. There was some blood coming from her mouth, so she must have been alive when that happened, too.

"I pulled out my wand, then, and so did Hermione. I don't know what Ron did - he was behind us. I told the others we'd better get down, in case whoever had done it was still there, or we might have accidentally destroyed evidence. When we got down the stairs, they lifted back up, and Hermione told Ron to get Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Figg. He left, and a few minutes later, the teachers came."

The Auror, who had been watching Harry as a bottle-blue Quick-Quotes quill took notes, gave a small cough, and asked, "What time did you get to the Divination room?"

Harry was silent for a moment. "Somewhere around twenty-five minutes past one." he finally guessed.

"Did you notice anything missing, or unusual?"

"No," said Harry, wondering why they were asking him. He'd only been in there for ten seconds!

"Right then, you can go." the man finally allowed, after staring at the boy for another half-minute, and making him extremely uncomfortable. "The potion should wear off in about fifty minutes." Harry leapt to his feet, and was led to Gryffindor Tower, where Ron and Hermione immediately pounced on him.

Pinning him between them, they shoved past the muttering crowds of students - who had no idea what was going on, apart from watching Mediwizards and Aurors out of the window, and were now making up the most ridiculous rumours - and marched him upstairs to the vacated fifth-year boys' dormitory.

"What are you doing?" Harry demanded, confused, as Ron closed the door behind them.

"There's a lot of rumours going round, right now," Hermione told him, worried, "and a few of them, you're not going to like."

"Well, some people noticed that you were gone, and that the Mediwizards were carrying a body out, put two and two together - and came up with twenty." Ron explained. "Now, a lot of people think you're dead - which is pretty simple to solve, all you have to do is say 'hi' to them. But others -"

"- remembered what you said about Trelawney." Hermione butted in, "and think; quite correctly; that the body was hers... and that either you were being questioned because you killed her, or they think that you're a True Seer."

Amazingly, Harry managed to choke on thin air. "What?"

"Well, you made that prediction in Divination about her dying before the next new moon - and that's this night." Hermione looked uneasy. "I mean, Ron and I completely forgot about it, until Dean brought it up. But, I mean, it was just a joke, right Harry? You didn't really see a vision, did you?"

Harry opened his mouth to deny it, but paused. After all, he had seen a vision, hadn't he? All right, so it had been a forced one, and not of her dying, but of her as a child - but still... wasn't it a bit strange, a bit coincidental, that he had told her she would die before the next new moon - and she had died on the very day before it happened?

Hermione and Ron started to look fearful as Harry stood in silence. "You didn't really, did you?" Ron begged.

"I didn't see the future." Harry finally admitted, honestly. Yes, he'd had a vision - but only of the past. His friends seemed relieved by this confession, however, and Ron slumped thankfully onto his bed. "You had me terrified for a moment there, mate." Ron grinned, sticking his hands behind his head. "Talk about a coincidence!"

Hermione didn't appear quite so flippant about the subject, but she dropped it - Harry guessed that she didn't want to keep going on about it to him, as he was certainly going to be repeatedly asked about it by the others.

---

Ajax had disappeared twice each day to scavenge for food outside the Hogwarts grounds, though he was gone for less and less time now that Harry was secretly bringing him scraps of meat from his meals. Now however, he was perched on the canopy of Harry's bed, head tucked under one wing, and fast asleep.

It was Wednesday morning, and not only had the last lessons of the day and Astronomy been cancelled yesterday, the lessons up until lunch today were also cancelled - as well as this, no student was allowed beyond their common room, which meant that the students were stuck using the small house bathrooms that led off from the common rooms, and breakfast had to be served directly into he common rooms, where tables and extra chairs had temporarily been set up by Professor McGonagall.

Most students remained in the common room, swapping rumours and theories about who the killer was, and whether Harry was a Seer, but the Golden Trio fled for the safety of the boys' dormitory, where they whiled away the time by reading, playing chess and (for some reason, though they couldn't quite remember why) arguing whether Martin Miggs could win a fight against Minister Fudge.

In the afternoon, though, the Transfiguration teacher's voice could be heard throughout Gryffindor tower, with the help of a Sonorus spell; "All Gryffindor students," she ordered, "are to exit the Tower, where you will be escorted to lunch. When you have finished, you are to go to your classes as normal. Any classes taken outside will be inside the school, and no-one is to leave the building for any reason. Those with Divination will go to either the library, or to Gryffindor Tower."

"They're being thorough," Ron said, impressed, as they grabbed the books they would need for the coming lessons. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, they would have to be, wouldn't they? I mean, there is an insane murderer around the school, after all."

"Yeah, but they've finished putting the extra warding up, now." Harry pointed out. They joined the crowd of students outside the portrait, and there were quite a few awed glances at Harry. "The only real problem would be if the murderer wasn't a Death Eater, but was someone still inside the school."

Hermione shuddered. "Harry, don't talk like that," she reprimanded him. "That's too terrible to even think!"

They were interrupted by Ginny squeezing in next to them. "Harry, did you rea-"

"No." Harry said immediately.

Ginny looked annoyed. "Actually, I was going to ask whether you'd read the Familiar book I gave you."

The scarred boy had the decency to looked embarrassed. "Oh. Right... sorry. Yeah, I finished it."

They began to follow McGonagall, who led them down to the Great Hall, ignoring the excited chattering of the many students behind her. "By the way, what are you wearing, Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly, and Harry remembered what else he'd put on that morning. "It's the wand holster that Percy got me for my birthday," Harry explained. "I thought that if we were attacked, it would be a lot faster than pulling my wand out of my pocket."

---

Lunch was certainly unusual; the students couldn't help feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the many Aurors stationed at the doors, each with a hand close to their wands. Harry promised himself to learn some new spells for defence, and finished his food as quickly as he could.

The last two lessons were two-hours worth of COMC, which (as students weren't allowed outside) meant following Professor Grubbly-Planks to one of the (usually disused) classrooms, where the students simply read and completed the questions in chapter twelve. The hive full of shock-bees they were meant to have been studying, was left by Hagrid's hut, where its inhabitants eagerly buzzed around it, occasionally releasing tiny sparks of electricity.

Harry had to admit though, it wasn't as though there had been much time to prepare for a change of lessons; the teachers had all been questioned, had helped the Aurors in setting up new wards, and had to deal with the shock of a colleague's murder, as well as keeping to the lesson plan and making sure the press stayed off Hogwarts grounds - so far successfully, although Harry doubted they could be kept away for long.

When Harry returned to the dormitory, he pulled the curtains around the bed, and switched his laptop on. He was disappointed and strangely surprised to see that no-one else was on; it seemed as though every time he had logged on previously, someone was on the Chat. It wasn't strictly true, but it still felt like it.

Clicking on to the Learnings section, Harry continued to the Search page. When the small boxes appeared, he typed in 'power, blocks', selected the box next to it to search only in the spell section and pressed enter.

There were forty-six matches; Harry skipped the ones to create, strengthen and see past blocks, heading straight for the ones that removed them. There were eighteen of these - six of these he skipped outright, because they created such stunning displays as a side-effect that everyone within a mile would come running. He decided against two more, because they were only temporary, and bypassed another three because the blocks would come down over a period of time, lasting about four weeks before disappearing completely.

That left seven possible spells; Reading quickly through the incantations, Harry narrowed it down further to just three. After picking his way through them for another ten minutes, he finally decided on one.

With the block on, he would have to be at least an Apprentice to cast it, which was perfect for Harry, who was a Wizard. Listening for sounds of approaching footsteps, Harry reached for his wand, remembered he didn't need it for Techno-Magic, and concentrated on the words and their effect. "Kalas ten liasoh nairn liaso et, kalas ten gail nairn gal," he repeated aloud, not having a clue what he was saying.

He waited.

He waited.

He waited some more.

"Is something meant to be happening?" he asked aloud, impatiently. He didn't feel any different! Re-checking the spell instructions, he found that there wasn't anything to tell if the spell worked - until you actually checked your power level and saw whether there was a difference.

Harry slipped off the bed, unlocked his trunk, and pulled the Charmometer from one of the compartments. "Appareo spiritus numero." he said, remembering what Neville had said. As he finished, the sphere faded to pale white; bright white; silver; grey; and then, unlike the last, it changed again - to a grey-blue, and then to a turquoise.

It had made five changes altogether; Harry had somewhere in the region of five-hundred points of magical power, nearly twice as much as the average Wizard. He knew it was shallow, but somehow he couldn't still help feeling a little disappointed. If he was the Phoenix, the Boy-who-Lived, the Tri-Wizard Tournament winner and Hogwarts' Golden Boy - shouldn't he be somewhere in the thousands, rather than an Illusionist of five hundred?

Berating himself for being superficial and self-important, Harry returned to his laptop and closed the Learnings screen down. To his surprise, however, there was a tiny beep, and a message box sprang up. 'Levina wants to Chat' it told him. His curiosity got the better of him, and though he had no idea who Levina was - not another Techno-Mage, that was for sure - he double-clicked on the message.

The Chatroom came up as usual, with the unknown Levina the only other occupant. Hello, Harry.

Feeling his strangely warm necklace with one hand, Harry typed with the other. Who are you?

Someone with something important to tell you, Levina wrote back. Can you get to Hogsmeade tomorrow lunch?

Harry paused. It didn't sound like a trap, but then again... and besides, what if this was the murderer? After all, how usual was it that after an apparently culprit-less murder, a stranger contacted one of the only witnesses, with no explanation why? I can't. he wrote back; There's been a major event here. We're not allowed out on our own.

Levina took a while to write back to that one. Finally, the words appeared. A murder?

The boy's heart beat faster. How did you know?

Then it's much more important to talk to you. I have to meet you as soon as possible.

Why not tell me now?

There's some things you have to hear in person. What I have to say isn't something you can just tell someone who isn't in front of you. If you can't come to me, I'll have to come to you. I'll find you at four o'clock tomorrow.

With that, Levina logged off, and Harry was left with a hundred more questions, and no answers.

---

Lessons continued much the same way the following day. The Gryffindors were collected from their Common Rooms for breakfast in the Great Hall, led to their first lesson by whichever teacher was taking them for the first lesson (in the trio's case, Professor Flitwick), after which was a supervised break in either the library or the Tower.

For the Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years, the next lesson was Defence Against the Dark Arts, which found Professor Figg strangely subdued. In keeping with her story of her daemon capture, she was now teaching about the Equus Daemon. For this lesson, she had brought in a huge pincer from the young one she had imprisoned, which had been cut off by one of the Aurors who had been first on the scene.

As the students passed the appendage round, 'ooh'ing and 'ah'ing over it, Figg motioned Harry to follow her out of the room. Once they were in the corridor, she shut the classroom door behind them, and looked at him seriously. "Harry, I'm not going to mess about and be subtle. This is a very important matter - and very dangerous. I know you were one of the first people in the Divination room, after-" She cut off here, and gave a small cough. "After lunch two days ago. I know you probably weren't focused much on looking around, but did you notice anything missing?"

Harry's mind remained blank. This was the same question the Auror had asked him, and he didn't have a clue why Figg would be asking him. "I didn't notice anything gone, but I wasn't really concentrating on that." he finally volunteered. "What sort of thing might have been missing?"

Figg paused, then sighed. "I'm not going to beat about the bush, here. Did you see my Myrrh Cage while you were there, or was it already gone?"

Harry's heart seemed to stop. The Myrrh Cage! Had someone taken it, or had Trelawney hidden it somewhere safe? "I didn't see it in there," he replied, cautiously. "Do you think that's why Professor Trelawney was attacked?"

The teacher shrugged tiredly, and Harry noticed small bags under her eyes. "It's a good a reason as any. Of course, whoever killed her could just have seen it as an expensive jewel, and taken it to sell. More likely, it was the only reason why she was killed - you remember what I said when I first showed you all the Cage?"

"That it would be easier to release a daemon from a cage than to Summon one?" said Harry, casting his mind back. "So you think someone's going to try to release a daemon?"

"Or more than one, if we're particularly unlucky." mourned the teacher. "Look, so far there's no clues to the identity of the culprit, which means that it's more than likely that the Dark are behind it-"

"The Dark?" Harry yelped, shocked. "Dumbledore didn't tell me you knew!"

"I'm an Unspeakable," she replied, exasperated. "My job's to prevent Forbidden Magic, which includes daemonic spells and daemon summoning. I've already called in a group of colleagues to assess the situation, but we're getting nowhere - and we can't ask around, because it's classified information."

"What's this got to do with me?" Harry enquired, wondering why all this 'classified information' was being given to him.

"Because," Figg pointed out bluntly, "if this does have to do with the Dark, most likely you're the target, which means you have to be on your guard because there isn't going to be any warning if an attack comes. We've already pulled up the files on which daemons were inside it, and they're not pretty; the one I caught slaughtered nearly forty people, and that was nowhere near as dangerous as any of the rest."

Harry felt a particularly nasty lump in his throat, and swallowed nervously. "What's inside it?"

"Going back from the most recent to the first," Figg brusquely answered, "there's the young Equus Daemon; then a particularly nasty Aetas - they can slow down time, so you don't want to mess with that one; a Saevus, which basically look like a Siberian tiger; two Volucris, one of which wiped out a whole town a few centuries back, and a Cataegis, which are made of air, so if that's one's released, don't bother trying physical attacks."

Harry shook his head, feeling sick. "Are you all right?" asked Figg, peering at him. "You've gone white."

"I'm fine," Harry excused himself. Figg nodded, looking unconvinced, and led him back into the classroom.

---

The Divination lesson was spent in the library, overseen by Madam Pince and Professor Clayton. Instead of the usual whisperings, there was only dead silence; everyone was uncomfortable with the reason they were there.

Potions was a slightly more noisy affair - the adding of snake skin caused their potions to send out bright red sparks, which whizzed around the room before fizzling out.

When the students retired to their dormitories, Harry's thought returned to the strange Levina the previous night. Who was he or she? Perhaps more importantly, what did they mean by meeting him at four o'clock? Checking his watch, Harry discovered it was already ten minutes to four, and decided it was probably time to bring out his father's invisibility cloak.

At one minute to four o'clock, Harry was waiting in one of the unused classrooms, counting the passing seconds. He held the cloak, ready to whip it over himself if he heard a teacher coming - or Filch, who was rumoured to be prowling every room in the castle after the murder.

A rustle by one of the windows alerted him to another presence, and he swung round to face the intruder, hand going for his wand. He stopped when he realised that the noise was outside the window - and made by Ajax, who was fluttering madly as he tried to get in, glaring at Harry with beady eyes.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry strode over and unlatched the window, opening it enough for Ajax to enter. "I don't know what you're doing here, but you're welcome company," Harry muttered to him, as the bird perched on his arm and preened his feathers importantly.

"I hope the same can be said of me," a woman's voice came from behind them, and Harry spun back around.

"Who are you?" he snapped, before realising how stupid the question was. He calmed down slightly. "Are you Levina?" he asked, a little more politely. The woman nodded, looking amused at his outburst.

She looked to be in her early twenties, with long, straight red hair hanging loose to just below the middle of her back. Her skin was a colour that looked like she was tanned, but it looked as though it were natural - the only thing particularly strange about her were her eyes, which were as gold as the Gryffindor lion.

"I would have met with you in a better location, but I had to move my plans forward when I learned of the murder." Levina said, smiling softly, and not in a particularly reassuring way.

Harry moved his hand slightly closer to his wand. "What plans?"

Levina sighed. "My plans to meet you. Really, do you have to be so suspicious? I'm here to help you."

Harry shrugged, and didn't move his hand away. "When I see some proof of that, I'll stop being suspicious."

"Fine," the woman said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "I suppose you want some explanations."

"That would be nice," Harry said dryly, and the intruder smiled in amusement.

"This generation really is impolite." she mused. "Here are the basics;" She walked over to one of the dirty chairs and pulled a face before muttering a cleaning spell, and sitting down. Harry reached a little further for his wand when he saw the use of wandless magic, but stayed where he was.

"Over five thousand years ago, the Dark started conquering neighbouring kingdoms, and moving on to the next. I suppose you've had the whole account from your headmaster?" Harry nodded is reply, and Levina continued. "I was there, at that time. I was an Atlantean ambassador to the Wizards of Britain, and one of Merlin's friends and assistants. I was also his creation."

Harry's mind reeled. "Creation?" he coughed out, "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Levina clarified, "I am an android, and the prophecy you heard wasn't the entire one. There's six lines that are missing from it - and they're pretty damned important."

My mind is returning, just as my freedom has. I remember the outside as it was before... when I was Higher. I will be Higher again, once I make them pay. Yes! I'll make sure they know what they put me through, once I've freed myself. This slavery is better than the last - I can eat, I can be warm, I can move... but it's still slavery. I'll make my captor pay too, with the blood of their loved. But first I have to raise my strength - and the boy over there would be a perfect meal.

Draco Malfoy, heading to the Slytherin Common Room from the library, was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice a figure moving almost silently behind him, tasting the air in hunger...

Hunger?