Chapter 19: Thunderbolt
"Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live." - Adolph Hitler
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"Padfoot!?" Harry gasped just as the dog hit him, throwing him to the ground and slobbering its licks over Harry's face. "Ugh! Stop!"
Sirius' ears drooped, as did his tail, before he stumbled backwards, allowing Ron and Hermione to help their friend up, and for Hermione to whip a cleaning spell over Harry - the 'dog-spit and dirt' look wasn't in.
"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't even meant to write until December, let alone come here yourself in May! Aren't you supposed to be on a mission for Dumbledore or something?" Harry interrogated him, happier than he could express that his Godfather was here.
Padfoot wagged his tail, a little happier, and trotted off the path. The trio followed him after making sure nobody was watching, and were led off through to the cave he had stayed in only a few years ago - but taking a short cut around the village of Hogsmeade, rather than down the twisting lanes within it.
As soon as they were inside, Sirius changed back, and was immediately bombarded with more questions.
"Hold on!" he said, aggravated, holding up a hand to ward them off. "One at a time!" Anticipating the first question, he gave them the answer. "I've come back because the trail I was on went dead - there'd been some reports of Death Eater sightings that I was following, but I tracked them as far as I could, and suddenly there was nothing; no leads, no clues, no witnesses. A dead end. So, I thought I'd make my report to Dumbledore in person - and see my Godson along the way."
Harry grinned, and even Ron and Hermione looked glad.
"You won't believe what's been going on while you were away," Hermione promised him, and proceeded to tell him the details of their recent escapades that he hadn't heard before (with enthusiastic help from Ron and Harry). It took just ten minutes of rushed narrative to fill him in on their latest little escapades and updates on Hogwarts life.
Sirius was silent for a moment. "But you have no idea where the Marauders' Map is?"
Harry groaned. "Sirius!"
"I know, I know. Sorry, but that little scrap of parchment took two years of the Marauders' lives to make. And that's not including the breaks," he added as an afterthought. The trio rolled their eyes in synchronisation, which was actually pretty impressive.
"If I ever find out where it is, I swear I'll try to get it back," Harry promised, quite certain that no such thing would ever happen.
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, like you're ever planning on finding it." He gave a mock sigh. "I suppose you just don't care about the items I spent years helping to make. Fine. I know when I'm unloved. Unwanted. Uncared fo-"
"All right, all right! We'll keep an eye out for it!" Harry groaned, "I finally see you again after practically a year, and all you can talk about is the Marauders' Map?"
"Okay, seriously, I have something important to tell you." Sirius said, his face suddenly turning solemn. "I know Dumbledore doesn't want to scare you, Harry -" (Harry snorted in derision) "- but from what I've heard, there've been more than a few sightings of that Death Eater and her daemon -"
"Leone?" Ron asked, and Sirius nodded.
"That's the one. There were a good few sightings of her in Southern Ireland, and from what we can tell, she somehow made her up to Northern Ireland, and from there to England. More than likely she's heading up to Hogwarts for another shot at you, and she probably reached Scotland a while ago."
Ron and Hermione went pale. "But why didn't Dumbledore say anything? If he knew Harry was in danger -"
Sirius sighed. "From what I've worked out, I don't think Dumbledore considers her a real threat. I know the Unspeakables are working on tracking them, because that daemon's killed more than a few people, and they want her locked away pretty badly; but Dumbledore's more concerned with stopping You-Know-Who at the moment. That's who he considers the biggest threat."
Harry, who knew that Voldie was just some jumped-up little Dork Lord with an ego problem and a chip on his shoulder (and a damn bad plastic surgeon) wasn't quite convinced. He, personally, was more worried about the psycho-chick with the killing-machine. By which I mean Leone.
"Mm." he said.
"Anyway, I just wanted to warn you - make sure you don't decide to sneak out of school or anything," Sirius said, looking pointedly at the trio. "I mean, you two -" he nodded to Ron and Hermione, "- are targets as well, seeing as how she knows you're friends with Harry. Just be careful, and don't do anything stupid."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What, so we've got no defences and all we get is a warning?"
Sirius sighed. "The Hogwarts defences have been strengthened, you've still those two Auror captains in the school, you've been through a lot more than Aurors and survived, let alone students; and don't forget, there's whole teams of Unspeakables and Aurors tracking them down. As soon as they find out where the pair are, they'll catch them. At the moment, until the teams know where they are, they're useless."
Ron sighed. "Brilliant. Good to know we're on our own, hunted by a pair of ruthless lunatics who want to tear us apart. I'll have to mark this as a good day in my diary."
"You keep a diary?" Hermione said, surprised.
"You know, 'Mione," Ron groaned, "for someone who's so smart, you can be really weird at times."
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Lord Abyssay had given permission to proceed. The plan was commencing on schedule. The pawns were to become rooks, and the rooks become queens. The knights were in place. The king was safe. In addition, most importantly, there was only one player. Abyssay had control, and was not going to let it go.
In less than two months, the plans would come to fruition. The Test was coming. Subject FB/P/26H would pass, or die. Dying meant failure for the Subject. Passing meant the unthinkable for Commander Tom Fallow - and he was determined that it would not come to that.
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When Harry and the others made it back to Hogwarts an hour later, they were only too content to slip into the Great Hall for a late tea, and then straight to Gryffindor Tower.
Admittedly, some homework had yet to be done, which meant that Harry had to bring out the Oxtamed, and the trio sat around one of the tables in the common room, writing up the uses of Angelica root in controlled visions and discussing Sirius' information until Harry left for training with Levina.
Training with staffs was a lot easier than swords; not only was Harry a lot quicker and better at spotting weaknesses thanks to his past training but he felt that he had a lot more control over the staff, thanks to the space between his hands giving him extra grip - whereas with the sword, the hands were too close together to make him feel he was particularly dexterous with it.
They had progressed far enough for Harry to be fighting now, rather than mimicking Levina's moves; although he hadn't landed any decent blows on her, he had managed to hit her once or twice, which he was quite proud of, considering he had only been training for several months.
Harry knew for a fact, thanks to several 'subtly' dropped hints, that she was seriously considering speeding up his lessons so that they could move on to hand-to-hand fighting faster - he seemed to have a natural talent for staff-fighting, but he had a nasty feeling he would be terrible in unarmed combat.
"This is good work, Harry," Levina complimented him as she dodged a blow aimed for her ankles and swung her own staff at his shoulders. "We'll have you on a full-sized staff in a matter of weeks at this rate!"
Harry chose this moment to slip and nearly got a large lump of wood slamming into his neck. "WHAT?!"
Levina frowned, lowering her weapon. "I beg your pardon?"
Harry's eyes bulged as he gawped at her. "What d'ya mean, full-sized staff? What's this, a travel-sized pocket version for convenience?" he growled, slamming his staff in the ground for emphasis.
"Oh, don't be daft," Levina sighed, rolling her eyes as if Harry had just suggested the possibility of dance lessons instead of fighting. "Do you really think that puny, weak little eight-footer is going to strike fear into the hearts of men?"
"Well, I was planning on hitting them in the heads, not waving it at them threateningly," Harry snapped out. "How big's the 'full-sized' one?"
The android motioned to her own nine-foot long staff. "Well, this one is full-sized for fighting... the ceremonial ones are a bit larger, but absolutely useless for fighting with - they're just showy things with ornaments stuck everywhere; I have one of those too, actually, I was awarded it for doing some diplomatic stuff for Lázebien - that was part of where Czechoslovakia is now, a few centuries ago -"
"That's very bloody fascinating, I'm sure," Harry butted in furiously, "but how the Hell am I supposed to swing a nine foot staff, when I'm hardly an expert with an eight-foot."
"Simple. By becoming an expert with an eight-foot staff first. Take it slowly - small steps, that's the way." Levina said cheerfully. "Oh, don't look at me like that. One foot is hardly going to make much difference, is it? When you're proficient with this one, then we'll get started with the proper version. You're a fast learner, and you've got a lot of talent with the staff, so I don't think it'll be that difficult. Now, are we going to fight, or what?"
Harry grumbled under his breath and brought the staff up again, grudgingly. "I suppose so."
"Good. By the way, I have a little treat for you the day before your exams."
Harry frowned. "Let me guess - you're going to pummel me into the floor with a poleaxe." He perked up. "Wait, is it something to do with the unicorn?"
Levina's face twitched into an expression that Harry didn't quite, but it was gone a second later. "No, but the unicorn's doing fine, by the way. Actually, I'm going to be taking you to Atlantis."
"Atlantis?!"
"Yeah. Big sunken city, my old home, ring any bells?"
"I know that," scoffed Harry, "but isn't it kind of - well... sunken?"
Levina shrugged. "There's plenty of spells to take care of pressure, air, light and the rest of it. I just felt that you had a right to see the place that you're the rightful ruler of - even if there's no-one living there. Plus, there's a lot of stuff there that's pretty interesting; the temples, palace, museum and library - and the city Atlantis was just the capital of the kingdom of Atlantis, so you might want to check out the other cities as well. The Watchtower is quite interesting..."
"Why's the city have the same name as the kingdom?" Harry asked, feeling this was a stupid idea.
"Why's New York city in New York state?" Levina pointed out brusquely. "The city came first, and they decided to name the whole kingdom after it, once it was established. Do you want to go?"
Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah, definitely! Do you mean I'm really the rightful ruler of it?"
"Technically, being the descendant of Merlin in a direct line, you'd be the prince, though I suggest not feeling too proud of the title, since you don't really rule anyone. You'd be the king if you had a coronation, but I don't think anyone will be performing one for you, anytime soon." She paused. "Actually, you technically rule me... but I'm still your tutor, so if you try to make me call you 'your highness', I'll have to hurt you."
"Like you haven't already?" Harry muttered, knowing he had a wonderfully purple bruise on his side from the last bout they had. "I'd like to go, really. It sounds like it could be pretty fun. Could I have a look at the rods and weapons?"
Levina grimaced. "I've created a monster."
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'Magical Duelling for Adepts (Volume II)' was the next thing on Harry's agenda, and he took care to scan it into the rod the next day. It took more than an hour to get it all in, with the trio working in shifts of twenty minutes each. It took, however, just under half an hour for them all to 'read' it.
"I can't believe we got resistant to those headaches so quickly," Ron wondered, as they revelled in their clear heads. "I mean, I thought there was a Bludger in my head the first few times, but I haven't felt anything for ages."
Harry and Hermione voiced their concurrence. "Maybe it's because we're so used to it, by now," mused Harry. "I must have used rods more than fifty times now, so I must have become accustomed to it, like both of you have."
Before they could discuss it anymore, a huge specimen of an owl threw itself into the dormitory and hooted imperiously. Harry recognised it as the Great-Horned owl Hermione had last September; it was called Zara, or Sora, or something - he'd never caught the name.
"Mikael!" Hermione cried, leaving Harry completely wrong and wondering why he thought it was called Zara. As the owl flicked it's head a hundred and eighty degrees to stare wide-eyed at Ajax, and then looked back at its mistress, Mikael stuck out his leg, where they had noticed a letter attached. Hermione untied it, frowning.
"This can't be - it's much too soon -" she muttered, breaking the thick wax seal and ignoring the boys, who were trying to see what it was over her shoulder. "It shouldn't be here for at least another week - oh, Ron, stop breathing over me! You can see it in a moment!"
The boys fell back, anticipating the unknown letter with interest, as Hermione pulled it from the envelope and started to peruse it. It was a marbled cream, thick paper that was obviously expensive. As she read, her face changed from anxious pursed lips to wild, gleaming eyes. "This is brilliant!" she trilled in triumph, holding the letter up as if it were the golden ticket to Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.
"Great, 'Mione - but what is it?" Ron quizzed. Hermione gave a 'hrmph' sound and thrust it at him.
Taking it, Ron cleared his throat and read aloud.
"Dear Miss Granger,
Thank you for your application to study E-Level Arithmancy in four years time. Your name has been noted, and your exam results will be monitored. If the grades received are acceptable, you will be called upon several months after your NEWT results have been published to take an scholarship exam.
Required grades are: Arithmancy OWL - Outstanding (90 or higher)
Arithmancy NEWT - Outstanding (90 or higher)
These grades (or the equivalent) must be attained for entry.
Yours sincerely,
Eleanor Hutchins,
Regulator of Candidates and Scholarships, BeCAMI
"You're going to BeCAMI?" said Ron, sounding impressed. "Bloody Hell, 'Mione, you've got some ambition!"
Harry looked at the pair, curious. "What's BeCAMI?"
Hermione took the letter back and explained, "It's the British College of Advanced Magical Instruction. It mostly takes NEWT level students who don't go to Hogwarts - foreign students and the like - but it's a private school, and places are really sought-after, because it's come top of the European best magical-schools chart for over twenty years." She slipped the letter neatly back into the envelope. "Every year, they take in twenty students to study E-Levels as well - but because so many people apply, you have to be on the waiting list at least three years before you plan to study there."
"Bloody expensive too," Ron muttered.
"That's why I want a scholarship," Hermione huffed. "I wouldn't be able to afford it otherwise."
Harry was still puzzling over the letters' contents. "I thought you did E-Levels out of school?"
"Usually," Hermione admitted, "but if you do it in a proper institution, you're likely to get a better score - you'll have proper teachers helping you and everything. Plus," she added dreamily, "BeCAMI has a library with more than eight-hundred-thousand books and papers. Hogwarts only has about ten thousand!"
Ron gave Harry a despairing look. "Wow. Only ten-thousand? That's... that's terrible, Hermione. However do you stand it?"
"Disgusting, isn't it?" chattered the girl, oblivious to the sarcasm. "Over a thousand years old, and the earliest book we have is from the late seventeenth century - and even that's in the restricted section. It's appalling."
"Look at the time! We should be in bed," Harry gabbled thankfully as he caught sight of his watch, before Hermione began another rant on the injustices of a ten-book limit in the school library. "Off to your dormitory! Shoo, shoo!" He sprung up and pushed her towards the door. "Charms test tomorrow, remember? If you want any last-minute cramming, now's the time. Go on, good-night, bye-bye," he finished as he shoved her outside, before slamming the door in her face.
"Wow, Harry," Ron supported, impressed. "That was really subtle!"
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Two days later, after Harry finally got Hermione to start speaking to him again, Harry was left in the dormitory by himself while the other students went to History, and then either Magical Languages or Herbology.
He spent the time adding a few extra pages to his website, finishing some Transfiguration homework, researching the effects of the celestial bodies for Divination (with a little help from the rods), and finally chatting with Rhiannon, whose new hobby was checking out various Swiss bank accounts with Techno-Magic, and researching which accounts belonged to legitimate business-people rather than criminals. Apparently it was 50-50 so far.
'The problem is,' she wrote unhappily, 'I can't have any real fun, because I don't want to risk my laptop vanishing off somewhere. You know, the whole 'if you are undeserving' shtick.'
Harry typed back immediately. 'Well, the introduction said that it was mostly stuff about flaunting your power that got it taken away. It never said anything about using it unethically - even if your own conscience would stop you.'
'But what about if it wasn't really doing anyone any harm?'came the sly reply. 'What if some criminal's files of incriminating evidence somehow got sent to the police, or their money was anonymously donated to some charity?'
Harry thought for a moment. 'Would that charity happen to be 'The National Society for the Growth of Our Bank Accounts?'
'How did you know?'
Rhiannon already had a bank account; Harry had only his Wizarding account, and he was sure that it would be useful to attempt a transaction into his own account with technology (unless the Goblins had decided to expand rather more than was necessary), so it fell to Rhiannon to hold any money they 'liberated' from the 'unethical elite' as she put it. 'I wasn't using the account anyway,' she enlightened him, 'so we'll be able to split it fifty-fifty, without having to worry about any cash in there originally.'
Harry certainly felt like one of the 'unethical elite' as he considered their plan fully, but the girl soon won him over with her reasoning that they would only be taking from those with no claim to the money in the first place; and besides, a lack of money on their targets' part would mean their illegal actions would be even fewer.
Harry gave in to her persuasion amusedly, and left her to cackle over her soon-to-be-ill-gained monetary funds, choosing to head off to bed rather than join her.
Second of June was an exhausting day; rather than everyone staying inside to desperately revise for the exams, which would be arriving in just over a week, nearly the entire school was out in force to cheer on the teams at the Quidditch final.
Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had both qualified for the finishing match, but it was nowhere near a close call; it really should have been Slytherin playing against Gryffindor, but thanks to a series of lucky accidents for Ravenclaw (Harry suspected Fred and George were behind part of it, as several of the Slytherin players had spontaneously developed nasty boils and itchiness before their matches against Ravenclaw), the eagle-house were in the running instead.
They were a push-over, especially with Harry's now over-developed awareness and agility; though he personally took this to be a result of his training with Levina, rather than any skill-increase to had to perform thanks to the 'better' playing of the new Slytherin Seeker. In his opinion, Cerys Reed wasn't as good a Seeker as Malfoy - and he'd had to buy his way onto the team.
Gryffindor thrashed Ravenclaw (Cho Chang let out a delightful wail as Harry grabbed the whirring Snitch) 320 to 110. The Quidditch Cup was theirs, but it didn't look like the House Cup would be; Gryffindor was lagging in third place, just behind Slytherin and even further behind Ravenclaw - barely beating Hufflepuff.
"Well, it wasn't like we could make five years in a row," Ron sighed as they looked over the Scoreglasses disappointedly.
"Slytherin had it for seven years before us," Harry muttered gloomily, which caused Ron and Hermione's heads to visibly droop. "Looks like if we don't get a chance to act the heroes, Gryffindor doesn't get the points."
"Idiots!" snapped a voice, making Ron jump half a foot in the air.
"You're unbelievable," Ginny fumed, "Throwing all the celebrations to the wind when you've got the Quidditch Cup anyway. What's wrong with Ravenclaw winning something for once? At least it's not Slytherin!"
Harry sneaked a guilty look at the others. "Yeah... you're right."
"But where'd she come from?" Rom wondered quietly, and winced under the force of his sister's glare. "Sorry, I didn't say that."
Ginny threw him another deadly look, before stalking off in a way eerily reminiscent of Snape on a bad day (not that he ever had good ones).
"What's wrong with Ginny?" Hermione asked, surprised at the other girl's temper. Ron shrugged.
"Woke up on the wrong side of bed, probably. Dunno why she's so angry when she's telling us to cheer up - and insulting us, but I think that's part of the package."
Harry puzzled over it for a moment before coming up with a possible explanation. "Exam stress? I mean, she's trying a Spell Creation E-Level as well as her normal Summer exams, isn't she?"
"Maybe, maybe," Hermione allowed, pinching her robe collar in thought. "But I mean, we've got our OWLs - and we're trying the E-Levels as well - and we're not panicking and getting stressed, are we?"
"Yeah, but we've got the rod to help us," pointed out Ron. "We've got all the theory stuck in our heads, for the OWLs and E-Levels - all we have to do is put it in practice. While Ginny's trying to remember it all, and knows that it's OWLs next year; maybe she's worried she chose the wrong subjects, or something?"
"Could be just hormones," Harry suggested brightly.
"Or something else," Hermione muttered almost silently, dipping her head a little as if speaking to herself.
Ron frowned. "What?"
"Never mind!" the girl shot back quickly, plastering a smile on her face. "Is it lunch yet? I'm starving!"
The boys gave each other a look - that was Ron's line, not Hermione's - but played along and continued to Gryffindor Tower, to while-away the time before lunch with the party.
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It was the day before Harry's little trip to his rightful kingdom - i.e, his visit to the submerged city of Atlantis - when he spotted the person on the castle grounds.
He had been sitting in the library by himself, confusing himself over which book he should scan into the rod for the upcoming exams, when he happened to glance out of the window beside him. Though it was Saturday, no-one was outside; the library and dormitories were packed with students trying to remember the main ingredients of the Carasinthe potion, or the incantation for various cleaning spells.
But there was obviously someone out there.
He (or she) was standing almost exactly between the Forest and the castle, gazing at the relatively-clear sky. Harry couldn't see their features - they were too far for that - but he could see that they were an adult, quite tall and strangely bulky.
They weren't doing anything; just standing, staring - when they suddenly gave a half-turn and looked straight at Harry. He couldn't quite say how he knew he was the subject of their watch, but was sure of it, just as he was sure that when they raised their arm and made a 'come-hither' gesture, that they meant it for him.
Rising slowly and glancing around, Harry slipped past his gossiping schoolmates and hurried over to an adjoining corridor which held a door that led outside.
He knew it was stupid, when he had no idea who it was - he knew he should be telling a teacher that someone had got past the supposedly strengthened wards - but for the moment, his curiosity was all that mattered.
By the time he was halfway to the figure, he could see the detail. It was a man, in his late forties, with a strong but well-lined face. He was staring at Harry intensely, as though analysing him, and finally Harry paused warily, half a dozen metres away from him, hand on the wand in his pocket.
The man bulky not because of his weight, for he looked to be in excellent shape - instead, he was wearing what appeared to be armour. It wasn't mediaeval like the ones on display in Hogwarts, Harry saw - it was plate armour, a silver-colour that didn't reflect the smallest object around it. The man was almost completely covered in it; it was well-shaped, perfectly fitting his body and limbs. A helmet of the same material covered his hair and down to his neck, while boots and gloves of a soft-seeming silver material covered the rest of him; only his face showed.
He appeared to be unarmed; no wand or weapon - he stood still, watching Harry grimly, and the boy noticed the black insignia on the man's helmet and shoulders. It appeared to be several jagged shapes, put in such positions that together they formed a birds head with hollow eyes and a wickedly sharp beak.
They stood watching each other for perhaps two minutes, unmoving, before the man finally spoke. "Harry James Potter?"
Harry nodded guardedly, not taking his eyes off the man, feeling a slight burning around his upper chest as his name was spoken. He vaguely realised that another rune must have appeared on his pendant.
The man looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded in return. Before Harry had time to blink, the man was gone.
Harry's eyes flicked about as he fell a step back, startled. The man was just - gone. No pop or crack of Apparition, no turning invisible, no shift of an Animagus; one slip-second ago he had been there, and now he wasn't. It was as simple as that, but it served only to make Harry even more confused.
Levina had some explaining to do.
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Levina didn't do any explaining.
Instead, to Harry's complete amazement, she seemed as baffled as Harry, if not more so. Most of her emotion-range was taken up, however, by her absolute fury that she wasn't being let in on the big secret. 'Hah!' Harry thought happily. 'Now she understands how it feels!'
She inspected his pendant, verified the rune meaning 'the' had appeared, and spat venom whenever Harry oh-so-casually pointed out that for once, she didn't have a clue what was happening.
"It's not as if I control the whole bloody world," she snapped and tore some pitta-bread before chewing on it furiously. "You think I can organize the universe into doing what I want?! Well, do you?!"
Harry made his excuses and ran from her at this point, swearing never to interrupt her lunch-break again. He decided that it wouldn't hurt to tell Ron and Hermione about it though, so as they chowed-down their own food, he explained the whole incident. It didn't take very long, because there wasn't much he could tell them, but they were still over it like the chocolate sauce on Ron's dessert.
Harry realised Hermione had said something, and snapped away from casting perplexed glances at Parvati and Lavender, who kept shooting him looks before putting their heads together and giggling behind their hands. "Huh?"
Hermione looked at him exasperatedly. "Oh honestly, Harry. I said that I don't know how anyone could just disappear like that, but it's likely that's how he got in. I mean, he must have bypassed the wards somehow, mustn't he?"
"Yeah, 'cause they were such protection against the daemon," Ron grumbled over a mouthful of ice-cream.
Hermione frowned. "Ron, they could hardly stop the daemon from getting in when it was inside the whole time. Besides, they've been strengthened twice since then, so he must have either evaded or negated the alarms somehow." She hummed-and-harred for a moment, then; "I think I'll have to do a bit of reading; maybe ask Captain Marcella what wards and alarms were put up, because I don't think Captain O'Keifer would tell me..."
"And then?" Harry prompted.
"The," explained Hermione, "we'd have some idea of how to start looking for ways to get around them. I mean, do the wards extend all the way overhead and underground, like a protective bubble? Is it just like a wall around the outside? Why can unauthorised owls get in with no problems - do they have some ability that a human could replicate?"
"If he was a human," Ron pointed out, and Hermione nodded eagerly.
"That's a good point, Ron! He may very well not have been human at all! Shape-shifting beasts and creatures are very rare, but it's still possible. He could have been an illusion even, or one of the students under a Polyjuice potion or disguising spell. What's more important though, isn't how he got in, but why."
Harry shrugged. "He was obviously looking for me, because he said my name. He didn't look as if he wanted to hurt me, though."
Hermione looked thoughtful again. "Well, he didn't give you anything, or leave a message; he didn't ask you anything except check your name... I'm not sure, but I have a few idea where to start looking."
Ron groaned and thrust his head into his hands, making Hermione scowl at him. "Firstly," she sniffed, "I'm going to check out what that symbol could be. Obviously it means something; perhaps like our House animals - and there's plenty of books on crests and images in the library."
"Don't you think you should just give it a rest, with exams coming up?" Harry pleaded, and her face fell.
"Oh, yes... exams. I'd nearly forgotten. Well," she said, with the appearance of a determined gleam in her eyes, "we have just over a week between the end of exams and when we leave for the holidays, so that'll be a good time to start the search and get some clues for where to keep looking over the holidays!"
Harry looked at Ron despairingly. "Better you than me, 'Mione," he sighed, scraping the last spots of yoghurt from his carton.
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The next day, after Harry got ready for his 'Hogsmeade visit', he made his way down one of the flights of stairs to the entrance hall, where he was to meet Levina. Before he left the Tower though, he noticed a small crowd of students bustling around a sign on the Gryffindor notice-board, and managed to slip past them to see what it was.
It was, the notice announced, the end of the Basic Auror Training lessons. The large course that the members had been through last week had in fact been their final test.
Harry's mouth dropped open in disbelief. They hadn't even told the students they were marking them that day! It was a good way to get an idea of how the students would fare normally, rather than when they were making a special effort.
The results of the course were posted below the announcement, with a good-bye and good-luck from the Captains.
Harry felt a bubble of elation rise in him as he saw that he was first, with ninety-four percent; three percent more than he had scored in his application test, which had been easier than the final test. Thanking the rods and the physical exercise (and the stunning-spell he had managed to get a lucky hit with), he read the rest.
Ron was second with eighty-nine percent, and then Ernie Macmillan; seven of the ten in the class had passed - just Neville, Cho and Hannah Abbot had failed. Neville had been just one percent away from the seventy-five percent pass-mark.
Feeling much happier and lighter than when he had first risen, Harry continued with a spring in his step, and his carefree face caught Levina's attention as soon as he met with her. She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, as they made their way outside.
"We'll get out of sight, and then we'll take my own way of travelling," she informed him brusquely, sounding frighteningly like Professor McGonagall. "I can't Apparate with you, so it'll be easier to simply use a bit of Seportion, if a bit slower."
"What's Se-" Harry began, but didn't get further; they had rounded a corner on the trail to Hogsmeade and - out of sight - a violet glow like a halo spun out of Levina's artificial body, with jet-black runes appearing and fading in it like ghostly splashes of obsidian ink.
She grabbed Harry's arm, and the same glow enfolded Harry, who shivered as the frosty touch of the light swiftly surrounded him; as it covered his eye, his vision saw everything in shades of purple.
He didn't get much chance to look at anything though; for a second later the flowing rays seemed not to pint out of him, but into him, and as they sucked into his flesh, filling him, he saw the world blink out, and reappear as water; surrounding him, but not touching him.
Harry frowned, uneasiness increasing as Levina let go of his arm. The same thing was happening to her; the water kept just an inch away from her body, threatening to crush her. "Thanks for warning me," Harry snapped.
Levina gave him a pointed look, and Harry realised she couldn't hear him; they could hear themselves obviously, thanks to the air surrounding them, but the water merely made each other's speech sound deep and garbled.
Harry caught a glimpse of the word 'Telepathy' in his mind, and realised this was a message from Levina on how to communicate. Another message came - air rushing into the space around his body - and he understood it immediately; the air he breathed out, polluted with carbon-dioxide, was being sent to the place they had vanished from while pure oxygen was filtered through to replace it.
He took the chance to look around and gain his bearings, feeling a little reassured. Hundreds of metres away, the water was pure black; he guessed that was where the lighting spell that Levina was using must run out. The light and air seemed to move with them though, as Levina glided forwards and deeper down.
Harry followed, feeling his body move as he ordered through the water, reminding him of his old Firebolt.
Below him, appearing through the murky gloom of the surroundings, rose part of the city of Atlantis - not in ruins, not crumbling, but vibrant and beautiful as the day it sank, devoid of fish and coral, and instead full of beautiful buildings, and statues, and roads that led ever onwards to beyond his sight.
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"But what were all those buildings made of?" Harry interrogated, bursting with curiosity. Levina looked up from the papers she was grading, rubbing an eye.
"Harry, you've been showering me with questions since we got back," she pointed out, "and that was over two hours ago."
Harry gave her a pleading look, after taking another look in the bag that carried their 'souvenirs'. "Come on, I know nothing about Atlantis! Half the stuff I thought I knew was wrong, and the rest of it was - well, even more wrong. Don't I have a right to know?"
Levina groaned and set her quill down. "Fine. I doubt anyone will be finding out their Divination essay scores until you're satisfied. There were," she started to explain, "a lot of different building materials. You only saw the capital city though, and there's only a few different sorts there.
"The main buildings - the big, important ones - are all made of ivory, magically strengthened. There's some other stuff in small quantities, but that's the main one. Most of the other buildings; homes, shops and the like; are made of alaerin, the same as your pendant. It's much better at holding spells and enchantments, and wards can be put on them in mass quantities, so it was a typical material for common buildings. Precious stones such as o-"
"Wait -" Harry butted in, "Hold on a second. I can understand that alarin or elairin or whatever it is being mass produced, but ivory?" He looked at her pointedly. "That's - well, rare. I mean everyone knows about whales and elephants being hunted and endangered and stuff, and - and, well, I bet they didn't have elephants in Atlantis..."
He trailed off weakly, and a small grin at this daft comment broke out on Levina's face. "You're right, of course; with the amount of ivory left nowadays, it would be ridiculous to think there'd be ivory in enough quantity to build anything like those magnificent building down there.
"Firstly, ivory was pretty special; think of it as more precious and expensive than gold or platinum in these days, and you'll have some idea of what I'm getting at. However, this wasn't due to the amount of it in existence, but due to the control on it. The royal family of Atlantis used to keep several whales - don't look so incredulous - you know how kings of old would have private hunting grounds with deer that no-one else could hunt, and how the Queen has carefully bred, pedigree corgis as pets?
"It was sort of like that, I suppose. There was an offshore breeding habitat for the whales - a type long extinct, I'm afraid - kept for and by the royal family for use in the annual festival and things like that; when they died, their bones were harvested for ivory. And then of course, we did quite a bit of trading for elephant ivory; and I must admit, we were probably the first civilisation to hunt whales of the more common types - and there was..." she broke off uncertainly.
"There was... another way we got ivory," she said slowly, "but I don't think you should know how just yet."
Harry's eyes widened. "Why not?"
"Because I don't think you should know." Levina repeated. "Besides, most of the royals didn't get to know until they were ruling, and the information wouldn't be of much use to you anyway."
Harry scowled, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere by pleading or demanding. "Fine, great. More secrets."
"You'll find out," the woman breathed, "not soon, but soon enough."
Harry wasn't sure what it was soon enough for, but he had a nasty feeling that he wouldn't be able to wrench that out of his tutor either.
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He didn't have time to worry about Levina's little riddles, though; the Magical Languages exam was tomorrow, and although Harry had already taken it himself, it meant that exam time had begun - Herbology was the day after that, then History (again, Harry had already passed), and then exams every day until the twenty-second of the month. Some of them weren't OWLs, but E-Level exams - he had already decided he would be attempting these, feeling that the rod would give him an advantage.
So, the day after the excursion to the sunken city, the trio gathered together in the boys' dormitory, made sure they wouldn't be interrupted, and went at revising with all the precision of military drill; Hermione had brought the books she thought would be useful, Harry checked them through to see whether they were just repeating information from other books, and Ron scanned the rod down the pages of each book.
After several hours scanning and 'reading' 'Perfect Potions for Strange Situations', 'Practical Wizardry' and 'High-Energy Enchanting', Hermione left to take the Language exam, while Ron and Harry remained, flicking through the glossy pages of Quidditch Weekly.
"Think we should be revising?" Harry yawned, gazing listlessly on an advertisement for used brooms.
"Nah," Ron wheezed curtly, and with that, the pair spent the rest of the day pursuing pleasure rather than education - although they stopped when Hermione returned from the exam and screamed at them until they hastily started cramming again.
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Herbology was the exam of the day the following morning; the fifth-year students were only too happy that OWLs were restrained to one exam per day, unlike the NEWTs.
Herbology consisted of a two-hour written test, and a short practical for extra marks - naming plants that had been brought in by the examiner, and giving certain facts about their care. Both were held in the main school, rather than one of the greenhouses, which lent an air of unfamiliarity that helped to unsettle the students slightly.
All of the fifth-year Herbologists were taking the exam at the same time, so Harry found himself seated between Parvati Patil and Dean Thomas: he was thankful to see they both looked a lot more uncomfortable than himself.
The second that the clock clicked past nine o'clock, the class turned their papers over so fast, Harry was sure there would be a hurricane in China. As he skimmed over the booklet, Harry's mouth widened into a grin. He knew every single one of the answers - each word seemed to be etched into the back of his mind, lying dormant until it was called upon to help.
Glancing over at the others, Harry saw that while Ron and Hermione had matching grins, and Neville was looking determinedly happy, nearly all the other students were wavering between panic and nervous contemplation.
Dipping his quill in ink and turning back to his own question paper, Harry swiftly and easily filled in the answers; a whirl of questions spun by, demanding knowledge of roots and spores, photosynthesis and starch, thorns and poisons, seeds and food-chains - as Harry solved the final multiple-choice question, there were still seventeen minutes left to read through and check.
The practical section was, if anything, effortless.
Harry named the twelve shrubs and saplings that were uncovered with ease, describing their quirks and preferences as though he had swallowed the Herbology books rather than uploading them into his mind. He was perfect in chopping orkney roots to obtain their the skin-irritating liquid inside, he recited the uses of gnarl-sap without pausing, he soothed a mewling greybush with the minimum of the glucose it was addicted to.
And so it was with good reason that he left the exam at midday with a broad beam on his face, slightly worried that someone might take one look at his daft grin and call St. Mungoes.
"That was easy!" crowed Ron as soon as soon as the trio met back up past the 'SILENCE:- EXAMINATION' sign.
Hermione limited herself to a small smile, though her eyes glittered euphorically. "I suppose it wasn't all that complicated," she allowed, the exhilaration shining through her voice. "I think it was the -" she looked at the other two meaningfully, " - private revision lessons that made all the difference."
"You can say the rod, if you just don't say it too loud, 'Mione," Ron grumbled, making sure no-one else was in hearing range. "Bloody Hell, it was simple! I can't believe Fred and George failed it, I could do half those questions in my sleep."
Hermione frowned. "Ron, do you really think we'd have found it so easy without the rod?"
Ron paused. "Er- maybe not."
"Before you get into another fight," Harry interrupted quickly, "what are we going to do after lunch?"
"Quidditch," said Ron promptly, while Hermione jolted out "Revise," at the same time.
Harry looked at the girl desperately. "But we spent nearly all of yesterday revising! And besides, I don't have a test tomorrow, I've already done History, so I shouldn't have to!"
A brilliant crimson appeared on Hermione's face, and she seemed to grow in stature by several inches, staring wildly upon Harry. "'NO TEST TOMORROW'?! That's not the point, and you know it! You've got a test the day after tomorrow, and I'm sure there's still plenty you can be getting on with for the other lessons! How many books have you read for your Protective Magic E-Level?"
Harry winced at the reminder of his Ward Creation class. "Two?" he offered.
Hermione ballooned in rage. "TWO! Harry, despite the fact that no-one's expecting you to get an E-Level at this age, that doesn't mean you shouldn't try!"
"Okay, okay! I'll revise, I'll read a dozen books, I swear," Harry promised, wishing he'd learned a spell to ward off angry friends of the female persuasion. "You can use the rod for your History revision - I think Ron's got it in his trunk - and I'll get some books from the library. Is that all right?"
"I suppose so," Hermione graciously allowed, and Harry at once bid his goodbyes and scampered off down the halls, dodging Peeves (who was cackling insanely as Professor McGonagall attempted to talk him out of swinging a yowling Mrs Norris out the window) before he found himself in the library.
There was, surprisingly, no-one there. The fifth-years were all outside, at lunch, or in the dormitories and common rooms, recovering from their recent torture; the seventh-years were doing the same, though recuperating from their NEWTs instead of OWLs - and all the other years were making the most of the remaining sunshine before it became Winter again, or happily partaking of an early lunch.
Perhaps more startlingly, Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. Harry frowned as he noted this fact, quite sure that he had never known the librarian to be outside her domain at break-times. She was always there in the background, hovering over the readers' shoulders like an omnipresent devil, ready to swoop down and rescue a book the moment a possibility of its spoiling presented itself - and give the perpetrator a good ear-bashing while she was at it.
Now though, the library was as quiet as - well, a library. No solid thunk of a book being stamped out, no rustle of fragile, old pages turning, no hushed giggles in the corner (belonging to one of the many cliques of girls that had made the room a favourite haunt for gossiping and politics of 'whose hair-colour can't be natural').
Wondering whether the room was perhaps off-limits for the day - but deciding to risk it anyway - Harry slipped into the room, a little unsure of himself. It had never looked quite as big as it did now; his every footstep seemed to make a dull thud, but even that deadened sound found a way to echo loudly in Harry's ears.
"Hello?" he tested, deciding that if he asked any louder and Madam Pince was in there, he would probably be kicked out for making too much noise. No one answered, however, and Harry decided to just act normally and find the book s he was looking for.
His pace picking up, Harry ambled round to the Defence section, going through in his mind where the books on wards would be. As he reached it, he suddenly realised something that should have struck him as soon as he noticed his solitude.
The restricted section was unguarded.
No witnesses. No librarian.
Plenty of spells in his head, eagerly bounding forward to be the one he would use.
A smirk slithering into position, Harry listened for the sound of approaching footsteps, heard none, and so stepped the few paces towards the restricted-section door.
Summoning a wandless Techno-Magic spell, Harry breathed 'Kalas dalan; falas' upon the lock.
The door silently unlocked, and Harry pulled it open before stepping inside.