Harry woke up the next morning with Ron and Hermione talking very quietly, so quiet he was sure it wasn't them that had woken him up and that he really had awoken on his own. It was Ron that spoke first when he saw Harry's covers eerily move and then a depression form as if someone was sitting upright on the edge.
"Can't you show yourself? No one ever comes up here."
"How did you get here anyway?" asked Hermione.
"Disapparated," said Harry simply.
"All the way?" squeaked Hermione as if it was impossible. "In one shot?"
"That staff is amazing," said Ron, drooling slightly.
"Tell me about it," said Harry dryly. "Look," he went on in a business-like voice, "I'm going back to Hogwarts to buy stuff."
"What stuff can you possibly need with a staff like Raides?" Ron asked, still drooling slightly.
"Oh, stop it," said Raides in a flattered tone, "you're making me turn -- er -- red."
"Supplies," said Harry shortly.
"Before you go, I should tell you that the parents of anyone who wants to come can come," said Hermione. "They said at breakfast today that the entrance fee was just a bit too high, they realized, and they can fit about two times the amount of people anyway. So both Ron's and my parents are gonna be here by this afternoon. Just wanted to let you know."
"Okay, I'll be back later."
"Oh and when you get back, today all the Gryffindors get to visit the Bayonne Complex and have fake combats of our own. They're splitting us up by year in the combat rooms. The trainer, Professor Hayden -- but not the original one, mind you, he's long dead -- was going on about how he wanted to know how you could have possibly killed the basilisk. And you ought to eat something before you go, I left some toast downstairs in the common room, everyone's in the Torr Lounge auditorium listening to Professor Hayden give a small speech on the values of learning to fight with a sword. Honestly..."
Harry had a sudden vision of himself fighting ten Graduates with a sword and beating them all.
"I suppose you could take it off if we were alone, but..." Hermione said.
"Why not?" said Raides, noticing everyone staring at her as soon as she finished speaking. "If you can't trust your fellow Gryffindors, who can you trust?"
"Are you crazy?" hissed Ron, his head whipping in the direction of Raides' voice. "I mean, it's not that I don't trust them," he went on quickly because Hermione was looking slightly hurt, "but, what if they let it slip? Harry's in enough trouble. What if Dumbledore finds out?"
"He won't -- find out," said Harry sharply.
After eating the eggs and bacon Hermione had left him, Raides in hand, Harry Disapparated to Hogwarts without getting splinched and was very grateful. He met up with his clone, told it to hide somewhere (incidentally, it simply became smoke and vanished into thin air) while he walked around Hogwarts himself and it did so without complaint which he sort of expected. When his clone was gone, he found he had a couple of new memories and supposed they were from his clone. One of them included a conversation with Dumbledore joking about adding a graduate program to Hogwarts which he was glad he didn't have to take part in.
Another memory included Hedwig arriving with a letter from Cho. Without thinking, he went straight up to Gryffindor Tower, opened his trunk, pushed aside the Invisibility Cloak and found her letter lying there, exactly where he would have hidden it -- right along with where all the other letters had been since that day Ron stumbled upon one. Still not over how strange Animus Speculum was, Harry read it.
Dear Harry,
I'm just really bored here and wanted to see what's going on over there. Everything's just fine here. Mom and dad are doing great. I actually started work with the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I spoke to Ron's brother Percy and he helped me get it. He's hinting that they're already planning the next Fire Quidditch game.
It's going to be a much bigger deal this time around than it has been in the past. I'm not supposed to tell even you yet, Cyrus Stone is, but they're planning a single elimination. England, Germany, the United States and now Bulgaria. Two teams are playing, the winners from one set go on to play the winner from the other set. I have a feeling it's going to be Germany versus England and Bulgaria versus the United States first. Goodness knows we're going to win against Germany but Bulgaria is saying they're putting Viktor Krum on their team! The first game is supposed to be around the end of May or the beginning of June, right around when Hogwarts' school year ends.
It's going to be great!
PS: Sirius wrote to tell me that Michelle is going to be arriving at Hogwarts because they think she's in trouble again. Sirius and Lupin lost track of Thantanos' whereabouts and Snape isn't getting anything out of You-Know-Who lately. Twelve Muggles were found dead in a park near your hometown, Harry! That's where they knew he was last but one of their contacts just disappeared. They think he was killed because You-Know-Who found out he was a spy. I'm starting to see why everyone was so afraid of him and it's not very comforting.
You'll probably get Sirius' owl in a day or two, it's just that I'm closer to him than you are so it takes longer.
Love,
Cho
News about the Fire Quidditch game was all good and well except that Harry didn't know who Ron would be cheering for -- him or Viktor Krum? But the mention that they lost track of Thantanos Quirrel was not happy news at all.
Harry put his glasses down and rubbed his eyes again, this time with one hand, pinching the bridge of his nose a little as his index finger and thumb came together, then rested his forehead on his thumb. Pull yourself together, he told himself, it's not like Voldemort's going to come bashing in the Hogwarts front entrance, curse everyone in sight, kill Dumbledore and then finish you off, especially not with Raides.
When he was finished worrying, which took a good few minutes, he put the letter back in the bottom of his trunk, pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, took out his phoenix-feather quill, scribbled a note saying he wasn't allowed to go on the trip to New York because Fudge thinks he's a murderer and that he's Disapparating to and from there with Raides and (now holding the Order of Merlin plaque really tight), that she shouldn't worry about him. Harry knew she should would start worrying as soon as she read that but didn't really care.
Hedwig was to be found nibbling on a vole in the Owlery and was more than happy to deliver Harry's letter. It seemed that the only owl in there beside her had a crush on her and she found this very annoying. Harry could tell by the way the barn owl was eyeing her, its feathers all puffed out. With a cold look at it, Hedwig hooted and soared out of the Owlery, Harry's letter tied to one of her feet. The barn owl was now looking sulky, its feathers no longer puffed up but flat and depressed-looking.
Instead of going straight to Hogsmeade so he could Disapparate to Knockturn Alley, Harry stayed at Hogwarts for lunch, talking with the left-behind students, Professor Trelawney and Dumbledore.
Professor Trelawney's eyes, as they always did, filled with a great sadness when she saw him, hair pointing every which way, eyes avoiding hers. She didn't say anything, she simply kept shooting glances at him, occasionally letting out a soft, barely audible moan and Harry took this as a confirmation of the worst. Dumbledore had mentioned sometime in the middle of all this that the three students were allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but they just had to ask Mr. Filch first. Harry, Dumbledore added in an undertone to him before leaving, was allowed to go anywhere he wanted -- except New York, he added jokingly -- as long as he had Raides with him.
After lunch, Harry went straight to Hogsmeade then Disapparated to Knockturn Alley.
Knockturn Alley was just as Harry had left it five years ago. Most every shop looked like a Dark wizard's dream and he swore he could point out vampires among the crowd of people. Behind a big crate in a store named Beefy and Belligerent Beasts, Harry swore he saw the front end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
The store he vaguely recalled as having the Hand of Glory, Borgin and Burkes, was situated across a shop which held different-sized heads, in which a troll just entered and was two doors down from a store holding a cage of very large, very ugly spiders. Last time he'd found himself in here, he'd not spoken clearly enough. It was the first time he had ever used Floo Powder and he had gotten lost. Though he was older and it took a bit more to scare him, even Raides jumped when one of the heads from the shop across the street rolled past them, for the troll had apparently bashed the window in in his anger.
"What're you lookin' at! Eh?" it roared stupidly, staring at Harry, but then its tiny, mean little eyes fell on Raides who was grinning, her great teeth bared and the troll seemed to think better of it and walked away. One of its big feet squashed a gigantic black spider flat that had run out of its own store and Raides cried, "after-lunch snack!" The shopkeeper, not keen on cleaning the disgusting mess of tangled hairy legs and spider guts, let her eat it while Harry tried not to look for he just wanted to get what he needed and get out.
Borgin and Burkes was a large, dimly lit shop. Its appearance hadn't changed much since the last time Harry had seen it. Of course, he'd been looking at it from the inside of a cabinet for the most part; he'd been hiding himself from view of Lucius Malfoy and his son, Draco.
There was a glass eye on a small stand in front of the shop's window which greatly resembled the one Mad-Eye Moody had been using. Harry knew that this eye could see right through many things, including solid wood, the back of the owner's head and Invisibility Cloaks.
Mr. Borgin wasn't in the shop at the moment but Harry also knew that he was in a back room and there was a bell on the counter to ring. Before Harry touched the bell, he checked the price of the Hand of Glory.
"One Galleon, ten Knuts and three Sickles," he read off the white price tag, "-- that a lot?"
"I never used money," said Raides absentmindedly, vainly staring at herself in a mirror.
Harry rang the bell.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," snapped an oily, irritable voice and a moment later, Mr. Borgin, his hair as oily as his voice and slightly gray appeared behind the counter.
His face widened with delight at the sight of -- a customer, it appeared, because then his face went as white as parts of his hair at the sight of Harry.
"M-mr. Potter!" he said in a would-be calm voice, the oily tone vanishing in an instant.
Harry blinked. Did Mr. Borgin think him a murderer, too? Trying not to think about it, Harry was about to open his mouth -- but Mr. Borgin was too quick and he said nervously, "What can I do for you today?"
On a sudden inspiration, Harry said, "This isn't everything, but, have you heard of an Explicatrix?"
Mr. Borgin's eyes widened in delight once again. He seemed to be relieved that Harry wasn't buying anything for Dark magic -- which would change momentarily, unfortunately...
"Ah," he said impressively, "Cybele's Orb." But then he suddenly gave Harry a piercing stare and said in a guilt-inspiring voice, "That isn't your Triwizard clue, is it?"
Harry hesitated.
"Yes, but -- I was -- I was just wondering -- I've been trying to figure that thing out since I got it --"
Mr. Borgin had picked up his wand and stepped out from behind the counter and cut in, "To be honest with you, Mr. Potter --" he sighed deeply while polishing a glass ornament resembling a human tongue with a large puff ball protruding from his wand "-- no one has any idea what it does. Many of Dumbledore's -- colleagues -- shall I say (myself included), believe it does nothing --"
"That's just great!" Harry bursted out angrily. "Just what I need --"
"But," said Mr. Borgin loudly for Harry began to sputter incoherently, "he believes -- is totally convinced," he said irritably, rubbing harder with his wand's puff ball, "-- that it does something but he just doesn't know exactly what."
Because he trusted Dumbledore more than just about anyone else, Harry's brief worry was swept away like Mr. Borgin just started doing because the puff ball had exploded from brushing too hard in anger, spraying the floor with dust. He was sweeping it into a dustpan.
"There's no books?" Harry asked, thinking of what Hermione would do but he was sure no book at Hogwarts would be of any help; he'd read most of them with Ron and Hermione, "no references? Nothing?"
There was a pause while Mr. Borgin sweeped and Harry gave the back of his head a pleading look.
"Not -- a -- thing," said Mr. Borgin firmly, saying each word each time he scooped up more dust into the pan. Now he tipped the contents into a trash can.
Harry let out a sigh of exasperation. The last Triwizard clue he'd had, he didn't figure it out until he received help from Cedric Diggory, whose clue, while vague, helped. This time, he'd been looking since day one! Harry was almost sure Adrianne and Sebastian had figured theirs out already but once he figured out what it did, that was one thing. The next great challenge was to find out how to use it to help... !
Feeling it was hopeless, Harry asked, "I also want to buy that," pointing at the Hand of Glory.
Mr. Borgin laughed nervously.
"A-and what would be needing this for, Mr. Potter?" he said unsteadily.
"Er," said Harry.
He wasn't exactly sure how to reply but was now definitely sure Mr. Borgin thought him to be a murderer. There was a pause but it wasn't too long so it didn't make him look too guilty. It was Raides' growling laugh that rented the silent air.
"Such a joker," said Raides which, while she broke the silence and Harry was sure nothing she was going to say was going to incriminate him, once before had she said something to save him from punishment... "He's going to use it to sneak around Hogwarts at night," she finished with a laugh that Harry was glad Mr. Borgin joined in on -- however guilty he felt that Raides saved him in a conversation again.
Mr. Borgin looked only slightly calmer but he took the one golden Galleon, ten silver Sickles and three bronze Knuts without a word other than "bye" and disappeared in the back room again as Harry left the shop.
But the whole episode left Harry with a very foreboding feeling, the Hand of Glory in a white bag made of dragon short fur, just big enough to fit the Hand in. Realizing he didn't have any candles, he stopped at a shop in Diagon Alley to buy some, hiding the Hand of Glory from prying eyes as best he could.
Harry stayed for dinner that night, forced to because he had been cornered by Sarah and one of the other boys, Thomas Abbey, Harry learned his name was. Sarah explained away her bout with the Sorting Hat exactly has Harry thought it was: she had friends in another House but she couldn't persuade the hat to put her in Hufflepuff, claiming that she wasn't "boring enough." The Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's ghost, took great offense to this comment as he flew by. The other boy seemed to be either too intimidated by Harry to say anything, was in awe of his presence or he, too, thought Harry was a murderer. Neither of these were comforting.
It was later that night when Harry decided to write a letter back to Cho with something to send off to Sirius for him. All that Harry wrote was that he was "just great, looking forward to the Fire Quidditch game and I'll see you for the second task." It seemed the lump in his stomach that had settled in since the Hogsmeade incident and Fudge's letter forbidding him to go to New York was taking up much of his consciousness -- and he still didn't like Ron's use of the word "smuggle."
After Hedwig had flown out of one of the drafty Owlery windows, Harry marched straight back to Gryffindor Tower, performed Animus Speculum, headed towards Hogsmeade, invisible, and Disapparated himself to the Bayonne Complex, hoping not to have missed the duels entirely.
It wasn't a very large room, perhaps as big as the entire Dursley household. The marble floor was strangely sparkling as were the walls. And he hadn't missed the duels; Neville Longbottom was swinging a sword at Dean Thomas who was overcome with a fit of giggles.
"You're never going to hit him if you keep jabbing, Mr. Longbottom," said a voice behind Harry.
Harry wheeled around to be facing a wizard about as tall as Ron with a silver beard to rival Dumbledore's. There were grand, diamond-encrusted swords clutched in both of his hands, one facing forward, the other backwards, their tips curved. Whoever he was, he was one of the few teachers Harry saw here wearing robes and his were of pure black, reminding Harry ever so slightly of Professor Snape with the air of a ninja.
"Try one of these, Longbottom, and don't worry, they're enchanted to just go right through whoever -- or whatever -- you hit."
"Yes, Mr. Hayden," said Neville.
"Oh, I wish Potter was here," Professor Hayden mumbled to himself irritably, "then we might see something worth watching..."
"He's never actually really used a sword before," Hermione said, perhaps a little more bravely than she normally would have done.
"Oh? But what about --"
"That was a one-time thing," said Hermione, chuckling slightly. "That sword is sitting up in Dumbledore's office. He's never used it since."
"Well, even so, Miss Granger, I think it would be interesting."
Harry walked over to her and whispered "It's me" into her ear. Hermione tried hard not to jump. Harry had the feeling she wanted to say something but she settled for giving Professor Hayden a strained smile when he asked her if anything was wrong.
Professor Hayden then threw one of the huge swords into the air and, the sword spinning furiously, he caught it by the blade tip, looking like he had done nothing more than polish the handle. Neville, whimpering slightly, took it by the handle and swung at Dean Thomas who was still goggling at Professor Hayden. The sword must have weighed a lot because Neville's swing made him fall sideways onto the floor. But he made contact with Dean and the sword went right through him, ghost-like, leaving behind a strange gray smoke as it passed through.
Professor Hayden groaned quietly then said, "Miss Granger? Mr. Weasley?" looked slightly more hopeful. Neville and Dean stepped off a small rise on the ground where they had been dueling to join Parvati, Lavender and Seamus off the stage while Ron and Hermione each went to grab a sword off of a table full of them. Hermione took a short and sharply curved one while Ron grabbed the longest one he could find.
After ten minutes, nothing interesting had happened while they were swinging feebly at each other as if a hit would the other. Nothing interesting, however, if you discount the transparent, light blue shield that unexpectedly sprouted out the end of Ron's sword and fell to the ground. He picked it up but it didn't help much; after another five minutes, Hermione landed a well-placed jab with her light and speedy sword (Ron's lumbering one was no use) that cracked the shield in two and went through his stomach. Ron slammed into the white-sparkling wall -- but it was like the wall was one big, fluffy cushion and he bounced lightly off it. Hermione shrieked but --
"Excellent, Miss Granger!" cried Professor Hayden while Ron looked sulky and Hermione was suddenly beaming. "Perhaps you won't lose in under one minute like our guest students usually do tomorrow night when you get to duel one of our own!"
Hermione's face fell. Professor Hayden noticed this and he clapped her genially on the shoulder though for all the good it did, he might as well have told her to try her best.
"In any case," he said quietly, "Miss Patil? Mr. Finnigan?"
"Ron, I want to ask you something," Hermione said pointedly and tugging on the sleeve of Ron's robes. She was also pointing her head at the door, though subtly.
Ron caught on right away and followed her; so did Harry.
"Harry?" she whispered once they'd taken the short walk to the corridor outside.
Ron looked curiously at her. "I'm Ron, remember?"
"No, I'm here," said Harry.
"I still say you should get rid of the invisiblity charm," said Raides. "I don't think anyone's going to --"
"I think Professor Hayden would have a right fit if Harry showed up," said Hermione severely.
"On the contrary, I think he'd be delighted," said Ron casually and Harry couldn't help but agree.
"So, what's up?" asked Harry.
"The usual," Ron droned. "Professor Hayden can't stop babbling about how much he wishes you were here. You'd think you were his son the way he goes on and on and on and --"
"Okay, I get it," said Harry rolling his eyes though he knew no one could see. "Your mom and dad here?"
Hermione's face flickered between a smile and expressionless and only stopped when Harry said, just wanting her to stop, "Oh, don't start. I've had enough. So how're things going here?" he asked, feeling generally curious.
Hermione's face lit up once more and before Ron could stop her, she told Harry about the experiment they tried in Quidditch (four teams, fourty players - "but no one liked it, they couldn't catch one of the ten Golden Snitches," said Ron), the thirty foot Blast-Ended Skrewts the Care of Magical Creatures teacher bought off Hagrid ("Stay -- away," Ron warned) and --
"They found a bunch of dead creatures near one of the Fire Turrets just outside Whitewonder Tower a few days ago," Hermione said and Harry remembered it like it was yesterday.
Should he tell? He figured so, but when he did, Ron's mouth -- if it stretched far enough -- would be touching the floor while Hermione stared, a dazed look in her eye, at the last spot where she heard Raides.
More to stop them from giving him funny looks than anything else, Harry said quickly, "I think I'm going to try to use the library here to help me with the stupid Explicatrix."
Hermione seemed to quickly shake herself out of her daze and said, "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?"
"I've -- been -- looking," Harry hissed at her. "And I can't find a thing, Hermione, it's useless."
"Well you have until February the twenty-eighth, don't you?" Ron reminded the two of them.
"Yeah, but it doesn't help any if he can't find out what it does by then," Raides commented grimly.
"Don't say that," said Harry, glaring at her.
"Calm yourself," said Hermione, her hand stretching out as if she was going to pat Harry on the shoulder but then remembered that she couldn't see him and withdrew it. "If you can't find out anything on it in the library here, I swear it doesn't exist."
Harry gave her a weak smile she couldn't see and headed out of the Moonstone Complex and off towards the library. It was now dark so he had to pull out the Hand of Glory from the bag he'd been holding since he Disapparated. He pulled out a candle, lit it with his wand and put it in the holder inside the Hand. Where there was once light from the candle hitting the wall, putting the candle inside the Hand had the odd effect of taking the candlelight off the wall, as if it wasn't there, but Harry could still see as if it were.
Passing through the slightly curved corridor leading to Taconic Itenum that was made out of glass, he saw a group of passing Slytherins all looking very happy, coming the other way. He supposed they were taking the place of the Gryffindors soon to duel.
"No one actually duels for real anymore," he heard one of them say, "because the last time, in like 1430, this one guy almost lost but he brutally murdered his opponent!"
Trying to put that out of his head, Harry passed through the corridor leading out of the Taconic Itenum, which was also made of glass and into the library. He watched a small, winged creature about one foot high with a slightly transparent look to it, its forest-green skin clashing horribly with the golden carpet, scuttle past him. There were four sets of stairs in the corners evenly spaced out along the walls of the very wide circular library. They seemed to wind and wind farther and farther up until Harry's legs were getting tired and he was panting, his hand weakly clutching the railing.
At last he found a section entitled Ancient Magic and passed a student that looked horribly like a vampire. His skin was as white as death and he was draped in black robes with a very deep red cloak. To Harry's relief, the student was deeply engrossed in a book he didn't want to know the name of but Harry still had the eerie feeling he knew Harry was there, even though Harry's back was to him and he was invisible. So Harry tip-toed past him and into a thick enclosure of bookshelves.
"Hermione's dream," Harry muttered soundlessly to himself, his eyes taking in the towering bookshelves which were so high he didn't think anyone could reach except maybe Hagrid. "No wonder she was talking for about an hour about this place."
He would have to use his wand to get books off the top shelves and make himself float just to even read the names of them. But with the student so closely resembling a vampire -- though, you know, he was quite sure he was safe there. No headmaster in their right mind would let a student in who would want to suck someone else's blood -- he thought better of it.
"Doesn't look pleasant, does he?" said Raides in Harry's head.
"No," Harry replied absentmindedly, scanning the names of book covers.
But he was there for quite a while, until the vampire-like student had left with a creepy glance over in Harry's direction though he knew he couldn't be seen. Harry counted two elongated teeth and let out an involuntary shiver. He'd read about vampires before he knew was a wizard but never dreamed that they actually existed. When the student had finally been out of sight (though unfortunately not out of mind), Harry looked skyward to the books on the shelves towering overhead.
"Not a thing!" Harry said in a fierce whisper, slamming A History On Cybele shut.
"Oh, it's five in the damn morning," Raides yawned, "can't we go to sleep?"
"You've been sleeping ten thousand years, you should feel wide awake -- and I'm not tired," said Harry, yawning too.
They had to finally go at six when their candle burned out.