Disclaimer: I don't own of the characters, settings, anything - those belong to J.K. Rowling. I came up with the plot to this particular story, but that's it.

Chapter Ten

Harry slept fitfully for the next three days. He kept seeing fire in his dreams. He would never feel the heat or sting from the burn, but it seemed he was sitting, surrounded by the towering flames, watching contentedly. The flames offered him no comfort when he awoke, however, and he was beginning to worry that Voldemort was making plans to torch something - or someone.

On the third night, he restlessly ripped apart his four poster curtains and ventured into the common room. He found Hermione sitting by the fireplace reading. The firelight made him uneasy, but he decided that it was a bit cheerier than the fire that lashed about in his dreams, so he cleared his throat to announce his arrival.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed tiredly, "I was just going to bed -- really."

"Hermione, it's three o'clock in the morning," Harry said, his voice subdued from tiredness.

"Well, if it's such a late hour, why aren't you in bed?" Hermione huffed, gathering her papers.

"Couldn't sleep."

Hermione looked frightened.

"Don't worry - no dreams," Harry lied.

"Good," Hermione sighed, "I haven't had any recently either."

Harry had almost forgotten about Hermione's nightmare in September. He was pretty sure that it had been Voldemort trying to cast the Imperious curse on her through her dream, but they had discussed the events of that night since it had happened.

"Did you ever figure out what Voldemort wanted with you?" Harry asked, quietly.

Hermione sat down heavily on the sofa, "No...I don't know what he wanted."

Harry joined her on the couch, "You know, sometimes I just wanna get inside Voldemort's head and pick it apart - find a way to destroy him."

"Of course you do, Harry," Hermione smiled, "He killed your parents after all and seems to want to kill you."

Hermione could be so blunt, but her response had triggered something in Harry's mind. She didn't know. Hermione didn't know about the prophecy. Neither did Ron, come to think of it.

"Hermione, I have a lot of explaining to do...."

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Two days. For two days, Hermione hugged Harry and teared every time she saw him. He had dealt with it well the first day, but he was on the verge of placing the body binding curse on her.

Harry and Ron cautiously entered the common room.

"Do you see her?" Harry muttered.

Ron scrutinized the room, "No...no...oh, wait, she's in the corner."

Harry moaned.

"Hey, many guys would gladly be in your shoes, mate."

"So...many guys would fancy an evil wizard after their lives?"

Ron scrunched his face in concentration, trying to connect Harry's thought to his own, "Wha-oh, him, no! Many guys would like girls flinging themselves all over them," he said matter-of-factly.

"But it's Hermione," Harry whined, "That's different."

Ron looked as if he would dearly love to comment on this remark but refrained and settled for scowling, "You go over there and say hey to her! She hasn't seen you all day, and if she wants to be all blubbery over this prophecy business, that's her problem!"

"Fine," Harry bitterly consented before slowly crossing the common room.

He stood in front of Hermione, who was so consumed in her book that she didn't notice him. He continued to stand. Maybe she'd never --

"Harry!" Hermione cried, abandoning the book in her lap and jumping from her chair. She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly, "How are you!"

Harry stepped back a bit, "Do you remember seeing me at breakfast?"

"Yes, you looked a bit peaky."

"Well, I'm the same now as I was then."

"Oh," Hermione grinned, "Good day then?"

"We need to talk. You, me, and Ron."

Hermione stiffened, "Is something wrong?"

"No, we just need to talk."

Harry led Hermione back to the portrait hole where Ron was talking to a first year - "there's this painting of some pears and if you tickle it, it -- ."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, grabbing his hand and pulling him from the common room.

"What! He was going to fetch me some butterbeer! Dobby would have helped him...."

Harry took them to the Room of Requirement which was still suitable for studying. After he shut and locked the door, he turned to Hermione.

"Hermione, I need you to be okay with this prophecy," Harry said gently.

Hermione frowned, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean, that you've been weeping all over me for nearly three days now, and Ron and I can't think about anything but how miserable -- ."

"- and weird," Ron offered.

" - how miserable you seem," Harry finished.

"Well, if you want me to be all right with the fact that there's a fifty percent chance that you might die soon, I'm sorry, I can't," Hermione said quickly, her cheeks reddening.

It felt as if yet another weight was being deposited in Harry's stomach, along with the regular thirty-five that he already carried around with him.

"Look, there's also a fifty percent chance that I might defeat Voldemort and this can all be over," Harry replied, trying to sound convincing.

"How are you going to do it, Harry," Hermione whispered monotonously,

Harry grimaced at the thought, "I don't know, but...we'll think of something. So let's just focus on the fact that I can still win."

Hermione nodded.

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Harry was crossing the grounds towards the castle. After his talk with Hermione, he decided that he really needed to get out in the air a bit and fly. It did wonders, but now he had fallen back into a depressed stupor and numbly focused on getting back to the castle. He was so deep in his dejection that he didn't see an excited Tonks run from the castle in his direction, swiftly followed by Remus Lupin.

"Harry! HARRY!"

Tonks tried to skid to a halt, but...well...she's clumsy and she couldn't, and she collided with a sullen Harry. Harry lay on his back on the grass longer than necessary, just pondering why him until Lupin grasped his hand and pulled him to his feet.

"You'll have to excuse Tonks," Lupin smiled, "She saw some peanut butter in the distance and freaked out."

"DID NOT!" Tonks cried, her voice muffled as she was face down on the ground.

Harry and Lupin helped her up.

"Harry, it's the most wonderful thing!" Tonks squealed.

"Is it really?" Harry laughed.

"Well, if you ask me," Lupin drawled, "It's nothing -- ."

"Shut up, Moony," Tonks snapped, "Now, Harry, get this - one of my students is a Metamorphmagus!"

"That's...great, Tonks."

"Isn't it!" Tonks beamed, "Oh, I have so much to do! I need some stuff from Hogsmeade, and I can't wait to start training!"

She ran off, leaving Harry and Lupin behind, shaking their heads.

"There's this potion," Lupin began darkly, "it deadens the nerves to the brain and calms you down...you can sit for hours and not move, not think," he inhaled, "I think I might slip some in her pumpkin juice tonight."

"Oh, please," Harry begged, "let me do the honors. I won't mess it up, I swear!"

Lupin laughed genially. Harry was glad Lupin was happy again. It had been a long summer for him, sorting out all of Sirius's affairs.

"Good to see you again, Harry," Lupin grinned, "Care to join me for a walk into Hogsmeade?"

"I don't know if I can, Remus. I'd love to, but - ."

"I assure you Dumbledore won't mind," Lupin persuaded him.

And so they drifted into Hogsmeade. The sun was beginning to set, and Harry realized he had never been to Hogsmeade at night.

"So, when shall I be expecting the first quidditch match of the season?" Lupin inquired, motioning that Harry follow him into the Three Broomsticks.

"Oh, that'd be tomorrow," Harry said nervously, taking a seat across from Lupin in a corner booth, "Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw."

"Worried?"

Lupin hailed Madam Rosmerta, "Two butterbeers over here!"

"Yeah," Harry admitted, "I mean, I've got Ron and Ginny and this great new chaser, but the others," Harry trailed off.

"Sounds like our team our fifth year," Lupin recalled, "James was Seeker, Sirius was a beater, Lily, who only played one year even though she was astounding, was keeper, and the rest," Lupin laughed heartily at the memory, "After the first game, which Gryffindor lost by two hundred points, the other four woke up one night to Sirius's sneering face. Then they disappeared for a couple of days."

Harry's mouth dropped open, "What did he do with them!"

"Professor Sinistra found them locked in the South Tower with rations, water, broomsticks, and a set of bludgers and quaffles that had been in motion for two days

straight -- ."

"No....," Harry broke out in a manic grin.

"After two days locked in a room with some vicious quidditch equipment...well, let's just say they were quite adept at the sport by then. Hopkins and Sanders went on to play for national teams I think."

"I better keep that story from Ron or he'll have them locked up for a week - no rations."

Madam Rosmerta clunked two butterbeers on the table, "Enjoy boys."

"Thanks Rosy," Lupin winked.

"You know, this is where I found out Sirius was my dad's best friend," Harry said, followed by a long, determined swig of butterbeer.

"In a bar," Lupin shook his head, "Your father nor Sirius would have it any other way."

They sat in silence for several moments before Lupin became very solemn, "Dumbledore has mentioned to me the events on Halloween - about the bird."

Harry nodded, "It was bizarre."

Lupin lowered his voice considerably,"We've been picking around, and we think we might know what they are."

"What are they?" Harry choked.

"They're a mix of raven and a magical bird known as a helfdare. The helfdare has the power to conserve massive amounts of magic."

"Huh?"

"Say you were pierced by a helfdare, your magically energy is transferred to the helfdare, and that energy can in turn be drawn from the bird. But only extremely powerful wizards could hope to do that."

"Like Voldemort," Harry growled.

"Yes. Like him."

"What we can't figure out," Lupin leaned in even closer, "is how you killed it."

"A ball of fire."

"That's what Dumbledore said. He also said that you didn't know what spell you used.

And that wasn't an ordinary flame - it was a fire so hot, so sharp, so charged that even a helfdare that had just drawn energy from a powerful witch was killed."

"I don't know what I did," Harry confirmed, "I don't know what spell I used."

Lupin smirked, "Doesn't it remind you...well, doesn't it remind you a bit of when you discovered you were a parselmouth?"

Harry tried to remember that day.

"How you weren't aware that you were speaking a different language...how, only the presence of a snake seemed to enable you to speak that language...."

There was an eerie silence which Madam Rosmerta broke by bringing them the bill and wishing them both a good night.

"We ought to get you back to the castle," Lupin said, pitching a couple of sickles on the table, "You'll think about what I said, won't you? Try to remember?"

"Yeah," Harry murmured, "Yeah...I'll try to remember."

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When Harry returned to the common room late that night there was a large crowd gathered around a table, on which stood Ron, one hand holding up a Gryffindor flag, the other a mug of butterbeer. Hermione eased her way through the crowd to Harry's side.

"I was starting to worry," she whispered.

"What's going on in here?" Harry asked, tipping his head in Ron's direction.

"Oh," Hermione waved a dismissive hand, "he's just trying to rouse everyone before the game tomorrow."

"Game day is upon us!" Ron shouted over the sea of Gryffindors, "Tomorrow we fly to victory! We will ride on the back of the LION" (cheers) "and we will tear across the sky and rip the raven from the heavens and mangle it until it lies...helpless and breathes no more...." Ron watched as his fingers (demonstrating the raven being ripped from the sky) parted with his imaginary raven and thrust a victorious fist into the air "LONG LIVE THE LION!"

The common room burst from the seams. Students were jumping and screaming, clanking butterbeer cans and waving Gryffindor flags madly, swearing and butting heads. Hermione, however, wore a scowl so deep that Harry teased her that she didn't want her face to freeze that way.

"URGH!" Hermione stormed, "He's given that ridiculous lion/raven speech four blasted times! And they're still cheering like a bunch of -- why, pray tell are you laughing?" Hermione seethed, nudging Harry in the shoulder.

Harry tried to screw his face back into place, "Nothing...it's nothing. You're just funny when you're livid."

"And how many times have you seen me 'livid'?" Hermione glowered.

"Well..." Harry stretched the word, "there was just now -- ."

Hermione nodded.

" -- and yesterday when Ron bewitched all your textbook pages blank -- ."

Hermione fumed at the memory.

" -- and two days ago when I said your hair looked fuzzy -- ."

"Do you really think it wise to remind me of that?" Hermione cautioned.

"Er...probably not...Oh! Looks like he's going to give the speech again!"

Harry directed his attention to Ron who was beginning to slur in his speech, "Oi! Harry! Come 'ere."

"Excuse me," Harry whispered, quickly leaving Hermione's presence.

Harry joined Ron on the table, "People, I give you our captain - HARRY POTTER!" Ron patted Harry harshly on the shoulder, "Tell 'em something inspirationally," Ron advised drunkenly.

The room fell deathly silent.

"Er..."Harry had a habit of beginning speeches this way, "Tomorrow!" His voice rang.

Everyone remained silent. Desperate, he grabbed an abandoned butterbeer can and raised it to the air, "To tomorrow! We'll crush them - I promise!"

More screams and pounding and clanking of glasses.

The common room didn't begin clearing until after midnight, and it was one in the morning before Harry and Ron decided it would be safe to go upstairs. Ron sprang from his place on the couch and loudly and brokenly announced his retirement.

"See you on the pitch, MATE!" he roared, ruffling Harry's hair

"And g'night, Minny...Mione, Mione!"

He hung hesitantly over Hermione, who was sprawled out in an armchair. Then, so quickly that Harry had to make sure he didn't imagine it, Ron bent over and kissed Hermione ever so slightly. Then he retreated to the stairs, singing a hearty rendition of 'Weasley Is Our King, Yes Oh Yes, That's Me!' Hermione remained, aghast, in the armchair.

Awkwardly Harry asked, "Did he just -- ."

"I think so," Hermione muttered.

"Are you upset?"

Hermione looked at Harry, wearing a calculating expression.

"Sorry," he said, "you don't have to discuss it with me."

"No, it's all right. I'm not upset, I guess. I mean, Ron's a little out of it at the moment. He probably meant to get me on the cheek," Hermione smiled, warily.

"Maybe," Harry agreed, highly doubting that.

Suddenly Hermione buried her face in her hands, "I should have seen this coming."

"What do you mean?" Harry prodded, moving to the ottoman opposite Hermione.

" I hug you guys all the time and try to say encouraging things, and I should have known that Ron would interpret it all wrong."

"Look, I don't think it's that big of a deal," Harry said, "Sometimes...guys just do stuff like that - you know, spontaneously. I wouldn't worry about it."

"Really?" Hermione said, hopefully, "You think guys do that?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "What am I?"

"A wizard," Hermione suggested feebly.

"Other than that."

"British?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Other than that."

"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed, "Sorry. You're a guy."

"Finally!" Harry threw his arms in the air.

"Sorry," Hermione snickered.

"Somehow I'm not convinced."

Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag, "Thanks. I hope you're right, Harry. I'm going to get some sleep now."

"Go ahead," Harry smiled.

Hermione's foot was on the third step when the portrait flung against the wall and Ginny scrambled through, breathless. Her eyes darted around the room and landed on Harry. She dashed the length of the room and grabbed his arm desperately.

"Ginny, what's the matter?" Harry grabbed hold of her arms.

Hermione hurried from the stairs and came to hold onto Ginny's shoulders.

"Tell me everything you know about Death Eaters!"

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"Let me get this straight," Harry began after Ginny hastily explained her request, "You were patrolling the halls with Malfoy, and he just told you that he's going on a mission with the Death Eaters at the end of the month. That doesn't add up -- ."

"Kind of. It's not a mission really," Ginny paused to breathe, "it's like a...scouting or something. Anyway, it sounds to me like they're going to try and make him kill someone and I -- ."

"Calm down, Gin," Hermione said soothingly.

Ginny closed her eyes and took several breaths then began speaking again, very subdued, "Harry, Malfoy was upset because he had just found out that his father's friends are collecting him for two days at the end of the month. All he's been told is that he will be requested to perform a task. Draco's pretty sure that his father has turned him over to You-Know-Who, and that he'll be asked to kill someone. I don't think he wants to be a Death Eater, and he won't tell me anything about them other than what I just told you."

"So, are you and Draco friends now?" Hermione asked.

"I wouldn't call us friends," Ginny muttered, "but we do speak to each other occasionally. I think he may tell me things he can't say in front of the Slytherins, and -- ."

"You are never to tell him anything about the Order," Harry interrupted threateningly.

"I'm not stupid," Ginny snapped, "All I talk to him about is school. I...I mostly listen."

"And you want to know about Death Eaters because you're afraid Malfoy's turning into one?" Harry tried to understand.

"I can't help him if I don't know anything about what he's been asked to do," Ginny said simply.

Harry stared into the fire, weighing the pros and cons of the situation.

"All right," Harry said, still looking into the fire, "I'll tell you what I know, even though you've seen Death Eaters in action and I don't know if I'll be any help, but you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"I want to know what Malfoy's up to. If he goes with them, I want to know. If he doesn't, I definitely want to know. Got it?"

Ginny seemed to be arguing internally with herself, "Okay."

"What do you want to know?"

Ginny took a seat on the floor, her back to the fireplace hearth. Hermione sat beside her, squeezing her hand.

"I want to know how You-Know-Who controls them. I know that he sends them into combat, like at the ministry, and I know about the Dark Mark and all that. But I really want to know what he does to them."

Harry gazed at her sullenly, "The Dark Mark on their arm burns when he wants to see them, and they have to come or he'll torture them. They form a circle when they arrive, and Voldemort will berate the ones he's not pleased with and torture them - usually crucio -- ."

Ginny grimaced.

"-- and the ones he's pleased with get to torture - for kicks, you know. He'll control them when necessary through Imperious - or pain, and he doesn't spare those close to them either. There are darker things, naturally, but you don't need to hear about them, and I don't particularly want to relay them to you. Just know, all a Death Eater does is Voldemort's bidding. That's his life."

"I hope Draco doesn't go with them," Ginny whispered.

"Me too," Harry whispered in return.

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"I'm gonna eat. I'm just gonna eat," Ron told himself, deeply inhaling the smell of food over the breakfast table and then turning a sickly green, "Oh, I'm too nervous!"

"Just stuff some toast down, Ron," Hermione urged, lifting some toast to his nose.

Ron took a quick whiff and then ran from the hall. Hermione sighed and offered the toast to Harry who accepted it hungrily.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I thought we could do some more decoding tonight," Hermione said quietly, "I've been to tell to Tonks that we've already done about a third of it. She was ecstatic," Hermione relayed proudly.

"Sure, I wanna take another crack at those papers anyway," Harry said, "But if we work tonight, you'll have to help me with my Potions essay tomorrow."

"Deal. And Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I also want to do some research on the helfdare. Just in case, you know."

Just that morning Harry had told Ron and Hermione about his talk with Remus, conveniently leaving out the part about Hogsmeade as he was sure Hermione would disagree with his being off grounds.

"Of course."

The owls began to swarm over the tables, delivering packages, and to Harry's surprise, an owl carrying a letter bearing the Ministry seal landed in his plate. Harry took the letter suspiciously and opened it to find another Wizengamot summons.

"It's for next week," he told Hermione.

"We should see if Tonks knows anything about it."

Harry's quidditch teammates were beginning to exit the hall for the dressing rooms, and he bade Hermione good-bye. He found Ron already donned in his quidditch robes, muttering strategies under his breath ("Feint to the left - strike on the right! Ha-ha!"). Harry gave his pathetic little pep talk, and after the stands were filled and Madam Hooch called them out of the dressing rooms, the Gryffindor team made their way to their impending doom.

Harry was vaguely aware that Luna Lovegood was giving the commentary and just barely managed to get on the field when she yelled for "Dear Mr. Harry James Potter." Ten minutes later, Harry was circling the field for signs of the snitch. They were down by ten points already, but nothing they couldn't recover from he told himself.

"And Ginny Weasley, sister to Ronald, makes her way for Ravenclaw's hoop. She might possibly score. She throws the...um...the red ball - ."

"QUAFFLE!" roared the stands.

"Quakkle!" Edward Candin squeaked from seventy feet in the air.

" - yes, thank you Eddie. Ginny throws the quakkle into the hoop. Did anyone see the goalie try to block the throw? I'm afraid I was watching this rather interesting cloud...it's shaped sort of like the snitch for all of you quidditch fans -- ."

There was a rustling of cloaks and groaning of stands as everyone peered up into the sky.

" - and Ronald Weasley stupendously blocks a throw from Ravenclaw chaser, Freddy Sneddy."

Everyone's attention jerked back to the field. There was a brief moment of cheering from the Gryffindor stands before confusion set in, and McGonagall whispered something in Luna's ear.

"OH! I see! So...the Gryffindor goals are to my right? Excellent. I'm afraid that Ravenclaw blocked that one."

Cheers rang up from the Ravenclaw stands.

"Now, now, you don't want to gloat..." Luna tutted, tugging at her Gryffindor lion hat. The lion roared into her wand and with renewed spirit, the Gryffindors stomped in the stands, cheering their team on.

"Wait!" Luna cried, despairingly, "Why are you cheering? What did I miss? RONALD DID YOU BLOCK A GOAL?!"

Thirty minutes later, there was only a dull murmur from the stands seeing as how no one knew who was winning or what was happening exactly. Luna tried to brighten the atmosphere by reporting outlandish plays, but eventually everyone deduced that Harry had not knocked out the Ravenclaw seeker and was using his unconscious body to block a rampage of bludgers being sent from his own beater, Ginny Weasley, who had betrayed him after falling thirty feet from her broom and into the arms of Ravenclaw keeper, Matthews. A terse McGonagall also assured the baffled audience that Ron Weasley did not streak in order to distract a Ravenclaw chaser. This idea was briefly tempting to Harry, as he knew they were down by a hundred points and the Ravenclaw chasers could use a distraction. Then he saw the snitch. It was skimming the rim of the Gryffindor stands. It rarely went that low, but he took the opportunity and willed his Firebolt to speed toward the stands. He was sure Cho would be close behind him. Five feet away, four....the crowd was looking nervous seeing as how Harry was about to collide with them. Triumphantly, he grasped the snitch, skidding to a halt just before he tumbled into the sea of red and gold. He caught a glimpse of Neville and Seamus dancing around, waving banners. Dean Thomas was screaming something and Parvati was waving frantically. Hermione was shaking. Harry remained still on his broom. Hermione's shaking was getting worse. No one seemed to notice her flinging arms and pale face. Harry gently flew in her direction, "Hermione!" But before he reached her, slowed down because his boots and broom were being pounded by Gryffindor supporters, he saw her eyes roll in the back of her head and she jerked ferociously. Then she fell, unconscious.

A/N: Now, I know it's a cliffhanger, but hey, I have license to do that, right? Thanks for reading, please review! God bless!