- CHAPTER SIXTEEN -
Thaumentors

Harry suspected it would be cruel to the badger, if not outright impossible, to hide it away in the Gryffindor dorm, so they took it to the Room of Requirement. When he opened the door it was now a small chamber with four stone trophy stands; he placed the badger on top of the yellow and black striped one, and it happily curled up and went to sleep.

"We'll bring the shield down here tomorrow," Harry said, yawning. He was all but certain that the only people who knew about the Room of Requirement were the DA and maybe some of the staff, and he hoped that the fact that they required it to be a safe place to hide the items would keep them secure. If somebody else came in who wasn't specifically expecting to find the things, they should see another room entirely.

The sight of those four stands in house colours reminded him of something, though he wasn't sure what; a dream he'd had, perhaps? He was so exhausted that he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, before he could chase the recollection down.

Hermione was rather frustrated that they hadn't taken her with them when they solved the clue, but Ron's dramatic reenactment - with two rather melted chocolate frogs playing the roles of Ron and Harry - of the plunge into the pit, and subsequent promise not to leave her out ever again, went some way towards mollifying her.

"Do you think we should tell the staff that we've found them?" she wondered.

"Well, they know about the Room of Requirement, don't they?" Harry pointed out. Dumbledore did, at least. "So in theory, if they really need to get to the items-"

Hermione seemed less convinced with the beauty of this argument than Ron was. "Harry, I'm not sure-"

"Look, Hermione, I'm not keeping this secret just for the sake of it," he promised her. "If there's any reason why we suddenly need them to know, then we'll tell them, straight away. But they do already know what's basically happening with the Curse of Durand, so it's not like they're totally in the dark. They're already making their own investigations, and the more we share the details around, the more likely somebody's going to hear them being discussed. At least when it's just between the three of us, if it turns out the enemy suddenly knows something they shouldn't, we'll be able to figure out where they heard it."

"I suppose," she agreed, somewhat reluctantly. "Anyway, there's nothing we can do right now except wait for the next clue to appear."

"When's this one supposed to arrive?" Ron asked.

"If I'm right, the Vernal Equinox, in March."

"You're always right, Hermione," he said, with an exaggeratedly long-suffering sigh.

"Which common room will it be in?" Harry wondered.

"Ravenclaw, I hope. If there's any kind of order to this, alphabetical makes as much sense as anything else."

"Which gives us a few extra months to try and figure out what to do about the clue in Slytherin," he said grimly.

Obviously keen to keep morale up, the teachers had organised another big feast on Valentine's Day, and broken the Great Hall up into lots of smaller tables instead of the usual house divisions. Snape was once again absent, but not even Ron considered it suspicious this time. There was just something about the Head of Slytherin and heart-shaped cakes with pink icing that didn't quite mix.

Harry almost envied him the option of going off to lurk in a dark dungeon. There were couples giggling and whispering to each other all over the place, one of them Cho Chang and some brainless lump of a Hufflepuff seventh-year - not that he was watching. Last year had clearly proved she was a few beans short of a jar of Bertie Botts, and he was doubtless better off without her. The last thing he needed was a girlfriend, anyway. All those people who pointed and snickered at the supposed hero of the wizarding world sitting by himself on Valentine's Day were complete idiots who had no idea what really mattered. Serve them all right if Voldemort dropped another parcel of attack bugs on them.

Ron was hardly in a better mood, dividing his time between glaring suspiciously at Ginny and Dean where they sat together, and stiffly ignoring Hermione. For a change she had forsaken the boys' company entirely, and was sitting with a little knot of girls at the side of the room who were whispering amongst themselves, nudging and pointing, and occasionally breaking out into cackles of laughter. Harry didn't quite have the nerve to look their way too often, in case they started giggling at him.

Unfortunately, the only horror to descend from the skies that particular evening was the wizarding world's equivalent of a disco ball. Despite his previous plans to stick around in case anything happened, Harry decided to beat a hasty retreat before anybody could try to ask him to dance - or worse, nobody ask him at all. He spent the rest of the evening back in Gryffindor Tower with Ron, drawing up ever more wild plans for infiltrating house Slytherin, and complaining about the ridiculously unpredictable moods of girls.

The prospect of breaking into the enemy common room was not their only Slytherin-related issue. Professor Snape's Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons were getting steadily more arduous. Even though the practical lessons were at times surprisingly enjoyable, they were also exhausting and debilitating, and Snape's insistence that all injuries gained couldn't be healed until the rest of the session meant that even the theory work could be sheer torture. Harry bore it with as much grace as he could, knowing that even Snape in a foul mood would never be as harsh on him as Voldemort could easily be.

Since the mock exams, they had moved on to team exercises, which proved much more difficult than organised duelling or free-for-all sessions like working with the curse ball. The groups were changed every session, with only a split-second warning from Snape at the start for everybody to figure out who was friend and who was enemy. The "Potter vs. everyone else in the class" session had been... interesting, although even that hadn't been as disastrous as the one where Gryffindor and Slytherin had been teamed together. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had managed to win a near flawless victory while the enemy team was busy hexing, beating up and sabotaging its own players.

Harry and the others had become fairly used to charging into class and ducking for cover, wands at the ready while they waited for the curt command from Snape that would be all the lesson plan they got. Anybody foolish enough to have ignored Professor Snape's initial warnings not to be late found themselves walking into a war-zone with absolutely no idea who was out to get them.

"House teams, no shields, I'll be hexing anybody who isn't under a Concealment Charm. Move!"

Whispering the first charm that came to mind, Harry spared a moment of relief for the knowledge that they were divided by houses. He usually walked to class with Ron and Hermione, and he'd lost count of the number of times the three of them had taken each other out right at the beginning of the session as they all shot off curses in response to Snape's command.

Harry was grateful for the background reading he'd thought to do on Concealment Charms. He struggled to remember the different types: none of them were quite as effective as an Invisibility Cloak, and they all had different kinds of strengths and weaknesses.

The spell he was using, Dissimulatio, was a simple Camouflage Charm that would hide him if he stayed still, but would be obvious when he was moving, and left him vulnerable to being tripped over. Distraction Charms wouldn't work in this situation, because everyone in the class knew to be looking for people who were concealed. Invisibility Charms were prone to flickering... He scanned the classroom carefully. It appeared to be empty, except for Professor Snape, but...

Flicker.

He almost fired off a hex, but then realised he wasn't sure if it was even an enemy he'd seen. Oh, if only he had the Marauder's Map to put names to all the invisible bodies.

Wait. What was that spell Hermione had shown them all in the Room of Requirement? He waited for another flash of motion... "Exhibero Veritas!"

He found himself suddenly faced with a very surprised looking Terry Boot. Before he could think of a hex to hit him with, he heard Hermione's voice shout, "Indexio Perpetuus!" A bright blue cross suddenly appeared, splashed across Terry's chest. He hastily restored the Invisibility Charm, but the cross remained, hanging in the air.

"Stupefy!" Harry's was not the only spell to hit the unfortunate Terry.

Now that those who had been paying attention knew how to mark a temporarily revealed enemy, the battle was joined in earnest. Harry was able to take out Draco Malfoy early on, much to his satisfaction, although he also spent a brief but embarrassing interlude trying to hex what turned out to be an ill-aimed marker spell that had hit a wall, and at one point he unmasked Hermione and had to quickly restore her spell with a yelped apology.

Snape ended the session when Harry himself got tagged and thoroughly hexed; he was glad to see he'd been one of the last four people left standing. Draco glowered at him darkly as he removed the glowing cross from his robes with a Cleaning Charm. Harry very maturely stuck his tongue out. Fortunately, Snape didn't see.

The rest of the lesson passed pleasantly enough, for a Snape-driven session. As they were heading outside to go and see Hagrid, though, Ron suddenly lurched and almost fell.

"Ow!"

"What's wrong?" Hermione hovered over him. "Did you get hexed last lesson?"

"No." Ron bent over and rubbed his leg. "Felt like something stung me- argh!" He leapt up, as if he'd been squarely kicked in the behind. Harry heard a mocking chuckle from somewhere off to the right.

"Malfoy!" He drew his wand.

"He's still under a Concealment Charm." Hermione moved to join him.

"Where is he?"

"Just start blasting!" Ron commanded hotly. He was bright red with both anger and embarrassment. "Exhibero Veritas! Exhibero Veritas! Exhibero Veritas!"

"There! Got the bugger!" Harry shouted triumphantly. Hermione grabbed his arm, eyes widening.

"And not just him- Look, Harry!"

Harry looked beyond the sneering Malfoy, and realised he wasn't the only thing Ron's wildly fired-off spells had revealed. Carved into the stone wall behind him was quite clearly another of the rhyming clues.

Malfoy, seeing something in their expressions, was starting to turn-

"Stupefy!" The three of them hexed him as one, and he crumpled to the ground.

"Is that the next clue?" Ron gasped, struggling to catch his breath.

"No," said Hermione slowly, already reading. "Actually... I think it's the first one."

Harry stepped closer, ignoring the slumped Malfoy, and tilted his head back to read.

Alas my brother, seek you not
A resolution here
This brambled maze that hate begot
Shall last throughout the year

Your magic will avail you none
Sight spells will leave you blind
If you would have this task be done
Then you must use your mind

To pass the thorns your crimes have sowed
Observe the stations each
Else come Midsummer, freedom's road
Shall pass beyond your reach

Ron was the last to finish reading. "You know, three months ago, this would have actually been useful."

"I was right," said Hermione triumphantly. "It is keyed into the stations of the year!"

"And we have until Midsummer to solve it," said Harry grimly.

"This must have been the clue that Professor Flitwick covered up at the beginning of the year," Hermione realised.

Ron blinked. "You're telling me I broke one of Flitwick's tailor-made illusions?

"Well, we already knew that people's magic was going dodgy," Harry pointed out. Malfoy, still collapsed on the ground ahead of them, emitted a faint groan. "Definitely dodgy. Snape was out for ages when we all Stunned him together like that, and he's a whole lot tougher than Draco Malfoy."

"Dennis Creevy's tougher than Draco Malfoy," Ron pointed out.

Hermione raised her wand. "Quickly, we have to cover the clue again before Draco wakes up. Imago wall, everybody, with me."

"Imago wall!" Their practise working together in the DA the year before had definitely paid dividends.

"There," said Hermione triumphantly. "Now, let's get to-"

"Er, Hermione..." Ron was looking out into the distance, over the hedge maze.

"What?"

He pointed. "Is it me, or are those... pretty big for owls?"

Harry looked, and saw half a dozen hunched shapes flying towards them. For a moment he thought they were people on brooms - then he realised. "It's those flying reptile things that attacked me before!" Six of them, and he hadn't even been able to fight off one... "We have to get inside."

Hermione whirled around. "We can't leave Malfoy!"

"We can!" said Ron emphatically.

"Ron! He's unconscious!"

"Oh, all right." He moved with poor grace to pick up the moaning Slytherin.

Hermione ran to join Harry, prepared to give Ron what cover they could. "Which direction are they coming from? North?"

"Er... East-ish, I think." He struggled to remember how this all looked on the Marauder's Map.

She pointed her wand. "Potens Eurus!"

The wind spell clearly worked, as he could see the branches of the nearest trees bending away from them, but it seemed to peter out as it reached the flying creatures.

"They're anti-magic! Our spells won't work on them!" He pulled her down as the beasts came swooping down towards them... and whooshed straight overhead, heading as one for Ron and Malfoy.

"Ron, look out!" Hermione screamed.

"Yah!" He leapt away, leaving a newly wakened and rather wide-eyed Malfoy right in the path of the aerial invasion.

"Potter! What the hell did you do?" he demanded.

"It's nothing to do with me!"

Malfoy grabbed for his wand. "Accendio!" Absolutely nothing happened, and he blanched. "Malleus! Incursio! S-stupefy! Er-"

"They're not working, Malfoy, you idiot!" Ron yelled at him, dragging him out of claw range at the last possible moment.

Harry grabbed a stone off the ground and pegged it at the nearest creature, but it didn't even seem to feel the impact. "Hermione!" he yelled. "Get Filch!"

Why? she mouthed at him in befuddlement, even as she ran to obey. It was a hunch, nothing more. The creatures seemed to be completely blind and earless, but they'd homed straight in on Ron and Malfoy - ignoring the apparently less promising targets of him and Hermione. What if they sensed people by how much magic clung to them? He and Hermione might be less soaked in it, as they spent time away in the Muggle world, whereas pureblood wizards were never far from spells every day of their lives.

As for Squibs... well, if you saw by sensing magic, then wouldn't a Squib be completely invisible?

One of the creatures had latched on to Ron, seemingly trying to suck the essence out of him like a vampire - or a Dementor. "Malfoy! Help him, you-" Harry bellowed at him in frustration, but Draco was trying to crawl away, apparently completely unable to do a thing without magic to aid him. Harry leapt into the fray, kicking and punching at the beast that held Ron for lack of a better option.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Malfoy! What on earth is-" Professor McGonagall's admonishment cut off abruptly as she saw what they were battling. Harry twisted around desperately.

"Professor! Get back!" The creatures would probably consider her a far juicier target than three wizard schoolboys.

She ignored him, raising her wand. "Repulsio!"

Instead of being driven back, the magic-hunters wheeled around, and headed straight for her. She went down under the swarm. "Professor!"

"Harry!" Hermione arrived at a run, a baffled looking Filch loping after her, carrying a long, knobbly walking stick that Harry had often heard him whining for the opportunity to beat students with.

"Help Professor McGonagall!" he yelled, running over to tend to Ron. "Ron, are you all right?"

"I'll be up in five minutes, mum, I swear," he mumbled dazedly. Harry shook him by the shoulder.

Hermione ran up. "Harry, you were right! Look, they're scared of Filch!" The caretaker's flailing about him with the walking stick was having an effect where all Harry's stone-throwing and punching had done nothing.

"They're frightened of him because they can't see him," he explained. "He's a Squib, and I think they see by sensing magic."

"Of course!" she gasped, rocking back on her heels. "Thaumentors! I should have realised."

"What?" He stared up at her.

She looked around, and he followed her gaze. Filch, now helped by Hagrid, appeared to have the upper hand against the creatures, but Professor McGonagall lay crumpled on the ground, looking dangerously still. Hermione glanced at the semi-conscious Ron and snivelling Malfoy, and quickly gave Harry a hand up. "No time for that now. I'll get Madam Pomfrey, you get Professor Snape. We might need his potions to help them."

"All right!" He started off running without even pausing to consider the unfairness of that assignment. The slightest delay could well mean Professor McGonagall's life.

Harry charged through corridors of wide-eyed students and crashed his way down into the dungeons, bursting in on Snape's classroom full of second-years. They all gaped up at him as he struggled for breath. Snape raised a very pointed eyebrow. "Potter-" he began warningly.

"Professor McGonagall's been attacked!" he blurted out. "Outside. Flying things, Hermione called them Thaumentors-"

Snape pivoted smoothly on the spot, and coolly reached under his desk for a black leather case while his students gasped and shrieked. "All of you, douse the flames - make sure your potions cool to blue before you attempt to lift the cauldrons. Somersby, run down to the Slytherin common room and have one of the Prefects come up and Vanish all the unfinished potions." He swept past Harry out of the doorway. "Move, Potter, we haven't got all day," he snapped over his shoulder.

Harry, far too winded to protest, simply staggered along, trying to keep up with Snape's even strides. An agitated Hermione met them before they reached the outside door. "Sir, Hagrid's already taken her down to the hospital wing," she supplied.

"Is she alive?" Harry asked urgently.

Hermione looked on the verge of tears. "I don't know."

"Then kindly stop wittering, and keep out of the way," Snape snarled at the both of them, quickening his pace. They chased him down to the hospital wing.

"Professor, can we-?"

"Stay outside," he ordered sharply.

"But- Ron's in there!" Hermione blurted.

Their only answer was the door slammed in their faces.