Call of the Circle

by RoBoC

During the summer after his fifth year, Draco Malfoy has an encounter that will forever alter his world.

49. A Flight with the Stars

The sun dawned over Hogwarts. From his perch at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Etean watched it make its daily appearance with no trace of emotion. His mind was spread so thin across the world around him that it was only a shade that squinted and shielded his eyes against the sudden glare. Something in the sunrise triggered a thought, which triggered a reaction, which pulled Etean's mind in on itself slowly. Awareness returned gradually; he let his eyes slide closed as the scattered threads united in his skull.

He had somewhere to be, and he needed to be there with a straight mind to get through this. He took a breath and scanned the horizon again once more, once more longing for the simple freedom of gliding on a thermal. The birds were already awake; he could see them skimming the treetops merrily despite the frigid air. A single speck on the very edge of his gaze caught his attention. As he watched, the speck grew larger and then separated into two specs which in turn grew to become carriages. 'Right on time!'

There was only one thing about the impending trip to London that didn't make Etean's head hurt, at least he would be travelling in style. Precisely how in the name of heaven Professor Snape had managed to learn so much about those carriages, the properties of which were a guarded Etyar secret, was beyond him. He hadn't been able to hide his shock when Snape had asked to use them for this little sojourn. A shock that only grew more pronounced as the Professor explained his intentions, and his reason for needing them. In a string of insane ideas that had managed to twist their way into Etean's life over the last week, Snape's certainly had to take the cake.

The carriages were in full view now, the nearer one being pulled by his personal team of silver Hippogriffs. Etean smiled as he watched their wings beat the air with solemn strength. He hadn't chosen them, rather they had been presented to him years ago as a present, but they were fine animals, and they did their job well. In terms of beauty and strength, they were unsurpassed, each a flawless copy of the others. Not that the other team was any the lesser. The second carriage was pulled by a mixed team of gold and russet coloured beasts. They lacked the symmetry and purity of the others, but in flight they bore the mark of breeding and of expert training to their task at the hands of an Etyar Beastmaster. Theirs was a lesser, if by no means unimportant part to play in Snape's little plan, and they would perform magnificently.

Etean shook his head, there was no time to be wasting here, there were things he should be doing; he had a war to save. The sound of his own quiet sarcasm made him grin. This was going to be a long day. 'Fuck it!'

Snarling slightly at the stiffness in his legs, Etean hoisted himself off the railing and dropped onto the floor. How long had he been sitting there? He didn't know…hours maybe, time had a way of dragging out when one is annoyed and frustrated. He silently made his way through the tower to the stairs. All was quiet, few people in Hogwarts would be up at this hour, this was the time known only to insomniacs and House Elves. It was a silent time, a private hour for contemplation. Ordinarily, he would have this time to himself, but this morning Etean knew he would not be the only one awake. Somewhere in the castle, those that were to be accompanying him on this little trip would by now be dressed and headed, nice and refreshed, to the designated meeting point by the doors. Etean put on an air of false energy as he joined the main staircase at the fourth floor and headed down.

Roughly fifteen students had been invited to the ceremony, but some had declined, or were encouraged to decline by wary families. As a result, Etean had been asked to make travel arrangements for ten people: Professors McGonagall and Snape, Ravenclaw Terry Boot, whose uncle was amongst the fallen Aurors from the early days of the war, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff; Susan's uncle was a victim of Voldemort's first campaign while Hannah's brother had recently been moved from the missing to the presumed dead list after the Battle of Coventry, Etean himself was the only Slytherin to even be invited, while Ginny, Harry, Ron and Neville Longbottom rounded out the list. The numbers reflected something of the makeup of the conflict so far. The Gryffindors were the classical, heroic wand fodder; dying in large numbers in glorious battle, theirs was the largest contingent; the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were caught in the crossfire, and wanted no part of any publicity even if they couldn't avoid the pain; while the Slytherins had thus far been spared, Etean only being invited for political reasons.

As Etean descended the stairs he saw through the doors that the hippogriffs had pulled the carriages up to a site near, but not too near the castle. The imposing walls wouldn't have appealed to them. Several students had wasted no time in moving out to examine the carriages. Etean noted from the lack of blood and severed limbs that they were no strangers to handling hippogriffs. He passed Neville Longbottom and Terry Boot standing in the doorway, shivering slightly as they kept their distance from the carriages, and the razor sharp claws of the Hippogriffs. The rest didn't share their caution. He could see Harry and Ron petting Thuban, the lead beast of the second team while Ginny had her attention focussed on Altair, the head of his team. Etean smiled at her choice, she had taste.

A chilly December breeze pushed through Etean's cloak and raised goose bumps on his skin as he left the shelter of Hogwarts. He was five paces from Altair, and Ginny's back, when the beast's roving golden eye levelled at him. Etean stopped and bowed. After only a moment's hesitation, Altair and his partner both bowed back and allowed Etean approach.

"They're beautiful," Ginny cooed at him as he moved up beside her and stroked Altair's beak, noting that the husbands had polished it to a mirror shine.

"That they are," he responded, turning his attention to the redhead. "You aren't afraid?"

Ginny shook her head. "I have been around Hippogriffs lots of times. Once you respect them, they aren't any trouble. Are these yours?" she asked quizzically.

"What makes you say that?"

Ginny caught his hand and held it up so that his ring was beside the clasp on Altair's chest. "I recognized this," she said with a grin.

'Observant little witch.' Etean was impressed, to notice such a small detail when petting a quarter ton of Hippogriff was no small feat. He nodded. "Well spotted, yes," he patted Altair's flank and smiled, "they're mine. Meet Altair!" he said with a flourish. As though on cue, the Hippogriff brandished his head proudly and clicked his beak.

Ginny smiled and frowned. "Altair?"

"Yes," Etean nodded, "Named for the brightest star in the constellation Aquilla."

"Aquilla?" Ginny paused in thought. "That's the Eagle constellation, right?"

Etean grinned. "But naturally…good to see that those astronomy classes haven't been wasted on you." He put his arm around her and drew her away from the carriage. "All my hippogriffs are named for the stars," he pointed to Harry, "That one is called Thuban, centuries ago that was the star that marked the North Pole," he looked down at her, "But of course, you knew that."

Ginny elbowed his ribs. "I did," she nodded forward, "What about the one Ron's petting?"

Etean looked up. "She's Rastaban, Thuban's companion in the heavens," he paused, "She's not normally so complacent. I guess she likes your brother or," he cocked his head to the side, "maybe she's just too tired from the journey here to properly maul him."

"I see," she said. Etean was surprised that she hadn't risen to that, she was normally quick to defend her family, no matter how often they bickered. He looked down at her. Ginny looked tired. 'She mustn't have slept much last night!' Etean put his other problems aside for the moment, glad to be able to fixate on her for a while. Ginny was not looking forward to this and Etean was well aware of why. The pain of losing her brother was still a raw wound for her. She was getting accustomed to it, but she was by no means over it. Today would, for her, be one long roll in a barrel of salt. Etean smiled at her, he knew how she felt.

He looked around. "Are we all here?"

Ginny shook her head. "We're still waiting for Hannah and Susan," she shivered and then paused to frown, "The eternal fire?"

Etean blinked. She was still trying to decipher his little message. He smiled. "Not even close," he narrowed his eyes at her, "that's the third guess, and I'm starting to see a pattern, maybe you should re-think your approach to the translation…Valkar is a tricky language."

"Maybe if you gave me a hint…"

Etean tapped her on the nose. "Not a chance." Ginny scowled. Etean looked up at Ron, who was busily grunting and sneering under his breath.

"A whole day with Snape and his new best friend…this is going to be fun," the sarcasm was practically dripping off his every word. Etean shook his head and turned back to Ginny, she was now busily reading a page of notes that she had pulled from somewhere. Etean recognised some Valkar symbols and grinned. 'Good luck kid!' With any luck that would keep her occupied all the way to London, at least, he hoped it would. Hopefully she wouldn't get frustrated by it. Something told him that she wouldn't get the translation…she wasn't on the right track at all, but this was a supposed to be a challenge after all, and she had asked.

Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones appeared at the entrance to the castle, along with Professors McGonagall and Snape. Both teachers looked fresh and awake, the same couldn't be said for the students, especially Hannah. Etean wondered for a moment just who had gotten the least sleep last night, her or Ginny?

"Ah good," McGonagall clucked, "We're all here I see." She washed her gaze around, taking in all of the faces. "Right then, those whom I call follow me, the rest of you, stay with Professor Snape."

McGonagall started to call names. Snape looked momentarily to Etean before nodding slowly. "Susan Bones…ah yes dear, over there," she pointed to the far carriage. Etean picked up on his cue and stepped back to Altair. He saw Snape turn and summon Potter to his side, no doubt to administer another harsh warning. Etean sighed as he patted Altair's head and stood on his toes to whisper his instructions in the silver Hippogriff's ear. Snape really needed to get over his Potter fixation…especially today.

McGonagall fell silent and nodded to Snape. "Everyone else over here," he ordered as he marched to the door of the lead carriage. Etean nodded as he walked past him toward Thuban. He bowed and then approached the beast. He had just finished giving her the flight details when Ginny appeared at his elbow. "How come I'm not going with you?"

Etean feigned ignorance. "Sorry?"

Thuban clicked his beak in agitation, Ginny hadn't bowed. Etean tightened his hold on the harness to stay the creature. "McGonagall says I have to go with her," Ginny sounded mildly sulky, "And you're supposed to go with Snape."

Etean looked around. He released Thuban's bridle and led Ginny away. "I didn't make up the groups, that was up to Snape."

Ginny grumbled incoherently. "Can't you say something to him?"

Etean laughed. "Like what?"

"Like…I don't know…they are your carriages, aren't they?"

He nodded and put his arm around her shoulder. "They are…and I suppose I could kick up a fuss, but, seriously, I don't see the point."

Ginny's face fell. "But I wanted to go with you."

'Believe me, that is just what you don't want to do!' "And I with you, but," he sighed, "It's only for a couple of hours and anyway," he looked around and then leaned into her ear conspiratorially, "would you really have been comfortable with Snape glaring at us the whole time?"

Ginny sighed. "No," she didn't sound happy, "I suppose not."

"Good," he grinned, "And while you have nothing else to do, you could always be working on that little puzzle of mine."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It isn't: The Perpetual Inferno, is it?"

"Nope," he said smugly, then let his voice draw into a sigh, "Ok then, I'll give you a hint," her face brightened, "If I were to say that to you; Odel Rohyen Sendere," he looked into her eyes, "I would hope you'd take it as a compliment."

Ginny's face twisted into a curious smile. She turned away sharply when she heard Professor McGonagall calling her name. "Coming," she piped. She turned back and gave Etean a peck on the cheek and ran over to the Professor.

Etean turned and walked toward Snape and the others who were waiting by the lead carriage for him. "Everything's set, Professor," he said, "You may board when ready."

Snape nodded. "Thank you," he turned and nodded to McGonagall before opening the door of the carriage and disappearing inside. Etean looked over to see McGonagall cajoling her students into their carriage. Ginny blew him a kiss before disappearing inside. Etean smiled and followed Snape in. He settled himself in the seat just inside the door. Ron was next, he scowled as he surveyed the interior. Harry and Neville followed and sat down without a word. Etean leaned out and closed the door. It slammed shut with a bang and they were off. The thud of the Hippogiffs' hooves rumbled up through the floor for a moment before it seemed to fall away entirely as they took to the air. Etean leaned his head to the right so as to observe the second carriage execute a similar flawless takeoff and fall into formation with them.

"This is nice," Neville Longbottom decided to break the heavy silence as they executed a long, slow bank in the air and headed south from the castle. He seemed to genuinely admire his surroundings.

Ron didn't seem impressed. "I still don't know why we couldn't take the Knight Bus!" he muttered.

"We would have," Snape answered him, "were the Knight Bus still in operation," the Professor sounded annoyed, "The Ministry has however suspended its service licence for the immediate future."

"But," said Ron, "they've already shut down the Flu Network connections into London, so how do people travel?"

"They don't, Weasley," Snape snapped at him.

Etean knew he was right, travel around Britain was certainly not a major concern for most people at the current time – survival took precedence. Safety wasn't the only reason though, the Ministry was also trimming its sails. With their resources spread so thin protecting their assets, guarding a mobile target like the Knight Bus was a waste of manpower. It had also been shut down, as Snape had taken great pains to explain to him, for reasons of security. Seeing as how anyone could make use of it, it would take no more effort than a careful disguise to allow the Death Eaters to summon it, and thus gain the means to travel about the land at will. The same was true of the Flu Network. It wasn't just London, the connections into and out of every major city had all been terminated. Only special, emergency lines were open, and they were all busy this morning, accommodating the other guests for the Minister's little dedication ceremony, come negotiation session. While Dumbledore could have perhaps argued for the inclusion of the Hogwarts party in the scheduled Portkey connections, the Headmaster had had something of a brainwave. Etean shook his head, this was not a good idea, but he had agreed, so… 'Here we go!'

He reached up and touched the small silver-set jewel hidden beneath the velvet drape of the window. He felt the air tingle slightly as the invisibility charm took hold. Anyone looking on from the other carriage now would have just witnessed theirs disappear from sight.

"I don't see why we had to split up," Neville was saying, "Hannah is really upset, I would have liked to have stayed with her."

He had a point; there was easily room enough for everyone in a single carriage. Etean sighed, Professor Snape's had explained his requirements clearly, as well as his reasons. Two carriages, two separate travelling groups and two separate journey plans. Splitting the group had doubled their individual chances of making the trip unscathed. Etean doubted if all of the precautions were necessary, his hippogriffs could fly rings around any potential attackers, but, theirs was going to be a little more than a simple coach ride, he had to remember.

"I don't know why we had to go with Snape!" Ron hissed under his breath, clearly hoping he wasn't going to be heard by the Professor.

"Weasley," Snape snapped, "Don't think that just because we are away from the school that you are immune from punishment. That remark will cost you ten points." Etean smirked despite himself, "And to answer your questions, you three are here so that I can keep an eye on you. We don't want any mischief. Mr Etean has been kind enough to lend us the use of these vehicles, and I will not see them damaged."

"Well thank you, Etean," Ron bit back smartly.

"Yes, Weasley," Snape snapped, "Thank you, is precisely the right thing to say. Now be quiet."

There was silence for several moments. Etean allowed himself to get lost in the sea of white mist rushing past the window as the carriage skimmed the surface of the cloud-tops.

"Isn't that the other coach?" Neville's voice broke the tranquillity of the moment. Etean turned to see him staring out of the window. He craned his neck to follow his gaze. The other carriage was indeed in view. It was lazily banking away from them in a wide turn. "Are they lost?"

"Where are they going?" Ron scowled. He turned to Etean. "What's going on?"

Etean merely shrugged at him. Ron's ears went pink. He turned to Snape. "Professor, Etean has done something to the other coach…they aren't following us."

Snape turned sharply. "And who said they were to follow us?"

"I don't understand," said Neville, "aren't they going to London the same as we are?"

"They are going to London, Longbottom, just as are we." Snape paused. Etean looked at him and then back to Harry. "They are just taking an alternate route, that's all."

Etean could see the cogs turning behind Harry's emerald eyes. "What's going on, Professor?" Ron sounded pensive.

Snape glanced at each expectant Gryffindor face in turn. 'You are going to have to tell them sometime, Snape,' Etean thought behind his mask of implacability.

"The reason, you three, that we split our party up, is security. Hogwarts is…being watched. Separate carriages and separate routes will make it all the harder for us to be followed…or intercepted."

Snape's final words hung in the air. Neville's face twisted into a strangely determined expression. The idea of being 'intercepted' as Snape had put it, was draining the colour from his cheeks, but beneath the shock lay a steel core. Ron's expression blanked; he sat back and said nothing. Etean was more interested in Potter though. He had turned his face away from Snape and was looking out the window…he seemed to grow distant.

Etean watched him silently. This was a bad idea, made worse by the inescapable pettiness of Snape's relationship with the Gryffindors. Etean understood his reasons for arranging things as he had. Even if no attack were planned, their departure would almost certainly have been witnessed. They had to maintain the pretence that all was normal. It was the only way to ensure that the plan could succeed. When Snape had explained his intentions, it was all that Etean could do not to laugh at him. Pointing out the pointlessness of it had been futile. Snape seemed to actually think there was something to be gained from this endeavour, and no amount of advice to the contrary would deter him. He claimed to be following Dumbledore's orders but, looking into his eyes now, Etean wasn't convinced of that. To him it seemed that the idea rang more of Snape's creativity than Dumbledore's. Though there was little doubt that the Headmaster knew about it, and had given his consent, Etean wondered just how much consideration Dumbledore had given it in reality. Had he merely trusted Snape's opinions in the matter? Etean sighed. Dumbledore seemed to be shifting a lot of decisions from himself these days and that was not a good sign.

Etean watched as Potter's eyes narrowed. "We aren't going straight to London, Ron," he said, speaking for the first time since they had taken off. "Are we, Professor?"

"No," Snape answered after the merest pause. His voice was, for once, free of scorn.

"So where are we going then?" Ron asked in an exasperated tone.

Potter turned, his eyes met Etean's, then Ron's and then finally settled on Snape's. "Coventry!" he said calmly to a stunned audience.

---

Hermione shut off the shower and smiled to herself as the last of the water cascaded out of her sopping wet hair and trickled down her face. The weird, giddy feeling that had been with her ever since she had woken up was still with her. A brisk, boiling hot shower had only accentuated it. She reached behind her neck and scooped up the bulk of her hair. It landed across her shoulders with a heavy slap, sending more water pouring down her back. She grinned giddily.

Hermione turned to leave the shower. Her knee twitched suddenly just as her foot touched down. Hermione wasn't quick enough to stop her weight from transferring to her foot and it slipped awkwardly from beneath her. Over she went in a most undignified manner. Her shoulder collided with the tiles on the floor hard. Hermione swore loudly and then rolled onto her back. 'Ah well, at least no one saw me,' she thought with a half smile. Her shoulder started to throb as she sat up. She reached up to massage the red welt that she was sure would turn into a nasty bruise.

The pain brought her back to reality with a thud – she rolled her eyes at the thought. "That's what you get for not paying attention," she told herself. "Wet feet and tiles don't get on!"

With a painful grunt, Hermione clambered to her feet and stepped gingerly onto the fluffy mat on the floor before grabbing a towel and starting to dry her skin. Her shoulder complained at being used for the task, but Hermione ignored it, thankful that the pain lessened gradually. She wrapped the towel around her shoulders and grabbed another for her hair. Hermione caught sight of her own reflection in the mirror and smiled, the untimely fall having done little to dispel her overall good mood. She hummed a stupid little tune as she rubbed the water from her hair. The reason for her chirpiness was simple, even ridiculous; for once, her dreams weren't haunting her morning rituals. She felt vaguely normal for the first time in ages. She hadn't had good dreams, in fact she had no idea what she had dreamt about. All the same, waking up in her bed an hour ago without the lingering shame and fear from her nightmare currently ranked in the top three perfect moments of her life. Her smile widened, and she hadn't even drunk the potion yet.

Thinking about it logically, though no less happily, she put it down to the fumes that she and Draco had inhaled. Even breathing them for a few minutes had given her a large enough dose to keep her nightmares away. Her skin tingled; if the vapour could do that, then she couldn't imagine what the full strength of the potion would do. Tonight she would be enjoying its full benefits, not only suppressing her nightmares, but generating dreams of its own. The book hadn't been too specific about what she should expect, but there were only so many ways to interpret 'euphoric dreams,' none of which sounded bad to her right now.

Coiling the towel around her head like a turban, Hermione took up her toothbrush and ran it under the tap. It was only when she bared her teeth to start brushing that she remembered what else the fumes had done to her. Most of it was a blur, but she tried to piece it together. She had added the last of the ingredients to the potion and taken it off the heat. Draco had been ignoring her as he tried to study, despite her best efforts to slyly distract him. He had finally taken her hints and gotten up to come over for a little cuddle. He had been kissing her and tickling her and then…she wasn't sure. She had gotten angry…no frustrated was more like it, Draco had been deliberately teasing her and then there had been…she shook her head, it was too fuzzy. The next thing she remembered, she was in the corridor. Draco was holding her up, and he was bleeding from a wound she had inflicted…with her teeth.

Hermione spat out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. She had to rinse her mouth again with her mouthwash before she managed to convince herself that she could no longer taste his blood. Draco had claimed he didn't mind what she had done, and she believed him, but still, she minded. The fact that she had done it was bad enough, but that she didn't remember doing it made her slightly queasy. She made a mental note to make it up to him somehow and left the bathroom. She was limping, her leg was a little stiff from her fall too. She swore under her breath, mentally berating her carelessness again.

Lavender and Pavarti passed her in the hallway. She got a cheery nod from Pavarti and a bright "Hi!" from Lavender. She felt her good mood climbing again, she wasn't the enemy anymore.

Hermione entered her bedroom and shut the door before crossing to her trunk to get out some clean robes. The ones she had been wearing the previous day lay on top of the trunk. Hermione scowled, she normally put her dirty laundry in to be cleaned before she went to bed. However, given how spaced out the potion had made her, she supposed she could be forgiven for this one transgression. She bundled up her robes, and then dropped them again when she saw her shirt. A series of dark brown stains on her collar stood out harshly against the clean white of the garment. Unmistakably blood, Draco's blood. Hermione felt her stomach quiver slightly. Her nose twitched, she could smell something odd in the air. Metallic and slightly sweet it was odd and unfamiliar, yet strangely, she recognised it. Hermione brought the shirt up to her nose and took a deep sniff…Draco. The scent of him was there, even mixed with the stronger smell of his blood, it was eerily clear. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed as she breathed him in again. The scent made her skin tingle. It was so strong, she was amazed that she hadn't smelled it on her clothing before. She smiled, the idea of keeping the shirt just as it was appealed to her for a moment before she caught sight of the blood. It sobered her slightly, there were other ways for her to remind herself of him, she supposed, and it wasn't like he was in short supply. Without a second more hesitation, Hermione tossed her clothes into the laundry basket and tugged open her trunk.

As she picked up a fresh set of robes, she heard something clatter against her copy of Hogwarts: A History. Her head spun round, rapidly ensuring that she was still alone before she picked up Harry's wand. She knew she shouldn't have kept it, she knew she should have returned it. He needn't have known. There were a dozen ways that she could, over the last week, have made sure he would find it without the need for him to know who had returned it. Hermione had told herself these things over and over. She told herself these things yet again as she looked at the length of dark wood in her hand. It was Harry's wand, he didn't need to be talking to her for her to know that he needed it. A wizard's wand was like a physical part of him, and this wand had saved Harry's, and her own, life on several occasions. She knew him well enough to know that not having it was tough, even unbearable for him. He'd had to skip the last two duelling classes for its lack, and he wasn't happy about that, not at all.

Still, not having it wasn't exactly hurting him, and in some small way, Hermione allowed herself to believe that he deserved some modicum of punishment for the way he had treated her and the rest of the Gryffindors lately. There wasn't one of them that Harry hadn't rendered unconscious in one duel or another. So what if he missed a class or two, and lost the chance to show off? If that was the worst that happened to him, then so be it. Keeping his wand hidden from him was, she also told herself, a damned sight better than any of the ideas that Draco had proffered. She'd decided he was only joking about half of them though, and the rest were just plain ridiculous, so they weren't serious either. The child like joy in his eyes when he'd talked about holding Harry's hostage…complete with missing persons posters and a phoney ransom, was positively hilarious. It was topped only by his, 'Let's enchant it with little fairy wings and have it fly round his head….just out of reach for a day.' Hermione chuckled to herself whenever she thought about that one. She could picture Harry leaping up and down to try and snare it from the air. The picture of her friend in difficulty shouldn't make her laugh, she knew, but she couldn't help it. Hearing Draco plan it out, knowing that she would never let him do it had been really funny.

Something Hermione had learned about Draco Malfoy, something that had actually come as a shock, was the wide range of his sense of humour. Dry as the Sahara and sharper than a polished razor one minute and crude and overly simplistic the next, Draco was a hard boy to predict. Something else she noted, was that, between one joke and another, he was rarely serious. Deep inside, she knew how much of it was for her benefit. She could see the sharp remarks form and then get smashed in his head. He'd slipped up once or twice, but he was making the effort, that was what she really noticed…and liked.

The clock in the corner chimed, reminding Hermione that it was time for her to get going. Her timetable for the day ran through her head. Arithmancy first to receive the next mind contorting project from Professor Vector, then lunch, and then she had just a few short hours to while away until her potion would be ready. It was going to work, she knew it was going to work. She tossed Harry's wand back into her trunk and started to hum again as she got dressed.

---

"Draco, I don't know about this." Hermione dug her heels in and clung to Draco's hand, preventing him from dragging her down the corridor to Firenze's classroom.

Draco rolled his eyes and turned back to her. "You agreed, Hermione," he told her forcefully. She was not wriggling out of this.

Hermione took hold of both of his hands, but avoided looking at him. "I know what I said, Draco, but I," she shook her head, "I just don't want to."

Draco sighed and moved closer to her. "Listen, I know you don't want to do this, but I want you to," she looked up at him, "It's the centaur or Trelawney…and we both know what kind of nonsense she'll start spouting." Hermione smiled, but Draco got serious. "And if you think, for one second, that I am going to let you go anywhere near that potion again without at least asking that bloody centaur for help, you are sadly mistaken." Draco sucked in all his willpower and stared at her until she looked away.

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned her forehead into him. He heard her take a slow breath before she spoke. "Alright," it was barely a whisper, "But you stay with me."

Draco frowned, of course he was going to stay with her. "Are you afraid of it?"

"'It' is a 'him', Draco," she said rather harshly, "and no, I am not afraid of him. I just…don't want to do this on my own."

Draco leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Ok then…I'll stay right beside you, now come on," he ordered and closed his grip on her fingers.

Despite her agreement, Hermione still dragged her feet as Draco half led, half pulled her behind him until they reached the classroom. There was a class on inside according to the timetable, but it was nearly over. Draco leaned into the wall of the corridor to wait, keeping a firm grip on Hermione's hand. She looked furtive, restless. She kept shifting her weight from foot to foot. From time to time, Draco could hear her vocalise the thoughts in her head. He got snippets of harsh comments, was she having a row with herself?

Draco smiled and raised his free hand to touch her cheek. "It will be alright," he assured her, drawing her to him and turning her round so that she was sitting on his lap, "The worst that it…he," he corrected as she tensed in his arms, 'Fine, call it a he if it keeps her happy!' "The worst that he can say is that he can't help us, and we won't be in any worse shape than we are now, will we?"

"But he'll know though," she whispered.

"Yes, but centaurs are private creatures, I'm sure that…he will understand if you ask him to keep it to himself."

"Maybe," she said quietly.

The bell rang. Hermione jumped in Draco's grip and her gaze locked on the door as it opened and began disgorging students; third year Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff kids bundled past them without a sideways glance. When the last of them had passed, Draco stood, lifting Hermione onto her feet with him. She tensed again, seriously not happy about doing this, but she was going to do it, even if Draco had to drag her in by the hair.

Hermione's fists balled at her hips for a moment, and then she stepped forward. Draco followed on her heels. He entered Firenze's classroom and goggled. He had never been here before, though he had heard the room described. It really was, just as he had heard, a perfect, artificial woodland glade. The scent of trees and flowers washed over him. It felt like another world. Though the weather outside was decidedly chilly and December-esque, this place seemed to be entrenched in a perpetual summer. He shook himself from his trance and looked around for the centaur they had come here to see. For a moment he saw nothing, but then movement amongst the trees caught his eye. Draco put his arm around Hermione's waist, feeling her trembling hard as he led her toward the centaur.

They passed out from under the trees and entered a broad clearing. Tree stumps and fallen trunks defined a rough circle of seats around a wide open space. Firenze must lecture from the centre, Draco assumed. The beast was there even now, kneeling with its back to them in what appeared to be a pose of meditation. Draco took a step toward it without hesitation, intent on attracting its attention, but Hermione stopped him.

"We shouldn't disturb him," she whispered behind her hand.

"Why not?" Draco asked.

"Because it's rude," she hissed.

Draco looked from Firenze to her. While he was mildly aware that she was right, and that the beast, him, it…whatever, was resting, even if it wasn't meditating or anything more meaningful, he suspected that that wasn't Hermione's only reason for objecting.

"Hermione…" he started, but he got no further into his argument.

"You may approach," Firenze said in a dreamy voice without turning around. "Your entrance was disturbance enough…your questions will make little further difference."

Draco frowned. "How did you know we wanted to ask questions?"

The centaur's only response was to cast his huge head skyward and take a series of deep breaths with its eyes closed. Finally it spoke, a mere second before Draco was set to scream at it. "What is it that troubles you so?"

Draco's mouth was open before he knew it. "What do you…"

"I was addressing the filly," Firenze cut him off.

Draco took a breath and looked down at Hermione. She was chewing her lip hard and it took her several seconds to answer. "W…well," she stammered, "well we…I…I…I mean, I wanted to…" she tailed off, unable to speak. Her fingers closed on Draco's hand where it was holding her waist and she squeezed him for support.

"You need not be nervous," the centaur stood and turned to face them at last, "I hold no anger toward you. My mediations had not yet even begun," the things eyes widened as he spoke. Draco ground his teeth at the veiled insult. The centaur approached them and laid a single huge hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Come…sit," Draco had to fight the sudden urge to draw his wand on the beast. 'Get your filthy hands off her!' he roared inside his skull.

Hermione didn't seem to mind. In fact she allowed herself to be led to a waiting stump and then sat down. "I will return shortly," the centaur said gently. Firenze turned from her and then disappeared amid the trees for a moment before returning with a large tray. Draco moved to sit on the nearest stump to Hermione. He found himself watching the centaur's every move, already regretting ever talking her into this. It was the only choice he had, but faced with it, he couldn't force himself to settle around the thing. Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him, looking no less worried than she had in the corridor. Draco remembered to give her a reassuring wink before returning his attention to the centaur.

Firenze stopped in front of Hermione and knelt down and laid the tray on her lap. He poured her a cup of something that steamed and smelled vaguely of roses. "Drink," the centaur commanded and Hermione obeyed. Draco noted that it hadn't offered him a cup, but he held his tongue. This creature was the only thing standing between Hermione and that vile potion, which he was getting more and more wary of with each passing hour. Caught between the centaur he knew and the poison he didn't, he held himself in check…just. He saw that her hands were shaking as she raised the cup to her lips. She took a deep draught and sighed as she swallowed. Whatever it was, it seemed to settle her.

She smiled at the centaur. "Thank you."

"It is Professor Dumbledore that deserves the thanks," the centaur replied, never taking his eyes off Hermione, "it was he who introduced me to this blend…we centaurs rarely partake of brewed infusions, but I feel that this helps me. Now," he said, casting a tiny glance at Draco, "tell me what has brought you here."

Hermione looked back at Draco for a second, and then took a deep breath before she spoke. "Well…I wanted to ask you about dreams…"

She spoke slowly and paused often, but gradually, Hermione recounted her story. Firenze listened without comment or interruption. Draco was hard pushed to see any reaction at all on its face. In the end, when Hermione fell silent and sat, wringing her hands together on her lap, Draco waited…and waited…and waited for a response. Firenze, however, seemed to not have one to offer. He continued to stare blankly at Hermione, endlessly probing her face with his eyes. It wasn't until she looked away from it that it moved at all, reaching out to catch her chin rather forcefully and lifting her face once more so he could resume his perpetual stare.

"Hey," Draco yelled, as he stood up, "What do you think you're doing? Let her go!" he ordered. Draco reached out to free Hermione, who didn't look at all happy with Firenze's treatment of her, but he was stopped short when the centaur's free hand lashed out and caught his robes. Draco struggled and cursed the thing, but the beast held him tight, its arm being long enough and strong enough to keep him from reaching Hermione.

"Be still," the centaur ordered, still not moving his eyes from Hermione's face, "I intend her no harm."

It was useless to resist. Unless the thing released him, Draco had no choice but to obey. He couldn't even get to his wand due to the unfortunate way that his robes were hanging. "It's alright, Draco," Hermione's voice was a tiny whisper, "Please!" she pleaded. Draco frowned, he didn't understand her sudden willingness to let the centaur maul her, but when she turned her head, he realised that it wasn't holding her as tight as he had thought. Momentarily appeased, Draco relaxed. Firenze released him and turned back to Hermione.

"Do you believe that there is substance in what you see?" he asked.

Hermione drew back and swallowed. "I don't know," she said weakly.

"Is it your wish to know?"

"Y...yes, can you tell me?"

"No," Firenze looked skyward, "but, perhaps I can help you to learn the answer for yourself."

"How?"

"Your words tell me of the chaos in your mind…a scattering of thought and purpose from which you cannot recover. We centaurs use meditation and inward reflection to attempt to clear our minds of such worries, and perceive ourselves more clearly. Such techniques have often helped me resolve inner conflicts such as that which you describe. While I am uncertain if our ways will work on one of your kind, I am willing to try."

Hermione nodded. Firenze moved closer to her. 'Not so fast!' "Hold on," Draco said, "What exactly are you going to try?"

"I am going to induce a deep trance," Firenze spoke as though he was answering Hermione, "You must do nothing except relax. If it works, then your mind will settle and you will find yourself in silence. I will then be able to guide you to the secret places, the dark corners where things are hidden. The pieces of your truth will lay before us…before you as they really are. At that point, if there is anything that your mind needs you to see, it will show you."

Hermione looked at Draco, she was uncertain, but her eyes spoke to him, 'This was your idea!' He nodded to her and laid a hand on her shoulder for a moment to comfort her as best he could.

Hermione turned to Firenze. "Ok then."

Firenze lifted his huge hands and let his fingers come to rest on Hermione's temples. Her eyes drifted closed at his touch. Slowly, quietly, the centaur started to sing. Firenze's voice was a deep bass rumble, Draco heard no words, just the vibration in the air. Hermione almost instantly went limp in front of him, her body sagging, only remaining upright because he was holding her head as he was. The sound of the centaur song made Draco's ears twitch as they tried to pin the source of the noise down, it seemed to be shifting around him despite the centaur remaining still. The sensation made him dizzy. Without realising, Draco found himself sitting down, feeling suddenly drowsy. The voice rose, Draco had to shake himself hard to keep from nodding off. 'Damn, doesn't he ever breathe?' Firenze's voice rose again, rising the hairs on the back of Draco's neck.

The centaur lowered his head, bringing his forehead to touch Hermione's gently. The contact seemed to awaken her. Her muscles tensed and her eyes opened. Hermione stared straight ahead, her gaze locked with that of Firenze. Draco saw her fists clench. Her breathing accelerated as sweat started to bead on her skin. Her face took on a pained expression. Only then did Draco notice just how hard Firenze was holding her.

"Stop!" he yelled. He reached out and started to claw at Firenze's fingers in a mad attempt to free her from his grip. It was a futile effort and Draco knew it, the beast had the strength of ten of him. He stepped back to grab his wand when with a booming silence, the noise of Firenze's voice stopped.

The centaur released Hermione, who slumped hard. Draco had to move fast to catch her. She was shaking and panting as though she had just run for miles without rest. He could feel her clothes sticking to her with sweat even through her robes. Firenze too, seemed mildly distressed. The centaur staggered back and seemed disorientated and unsteady as it stood up.

"You have been given a great gift," it said at last, "One that I have never before seen in one of your breed."

Draco frowned at it. "What do you mean? What did you do to her?"

"They speak to you," the centaur answered, ignoring Draco's question, "You can hear the words of the stars themselves," he spoke with cold reverence now, "Their song echoes in your eyes."

Draco cradled Hermione in his arms and tried to get her to respond without success.

"Yours is a great responsibility," Firenze continued, "The stars have chosen to share a part of their great design with you…you should be honoured."

"Honoured?" Draco all but shouted at him, "What the hell do you mean honoured? Listen you…" he stopped short of a very nasty insult, "can you help her or not?"

Firenze seemed confused. "Help her? In what way?"

"Can you make them stop?" Hermione's head snapped up as she answered him in a shaky voice.

The centaur was taken aback. "Stop them? You wish them to stop?"

"Of course she does," Draco stood and confronted the beast, "What are you? Stupid? Can't you see how scared she is?"

"Her fear is understandable. She is but a tiny ant confronted with a stallion. The will of the stars is beyond question however. They have chosen to speak to her, and therefore they must have a message that she is meant to hear."

Draco opened his mouth and was deciding what insult best suited the situation when he realised that Hermione was gone. He spun to see her bolting through the trees to the door at a full sprint. Draco called after her but she didn't answer. He swore under his breath and tore off after her, ignoring Firenze's aggravated calls behind him. Outside, he took less than a second to pick out the sound of her feet pounding down the corridors through the normal background din. From the direction, there could be only one place she was going. Draco swore aloud this time and took of, nearly flattening a hapless second year in his hurry.

---

The carriage dropped below the clouds. Etean could almost feel the tension raise a further notch. He wasn't sure who was more nervous, Ron Weasley or Severus Snape. The Professor's head hadn't left the window in about a half an hour and Etean could have taken his pulse simply by watching the side of his temple throb. Ron, for his part was toying with his wand and was showing signs of waging a horrendous struggle to keep the contents of his stomach in their current location.

The news that they were to pay Coventry a little visit hadn't exactly gone down well with the carriages other occupants. Neville Longbottom's features continued to wax paler and paler, yet his sombre courageous silence remained. He appeared to be a distorted mirror reflection of Snape, sitting as he was, opposite the Professor and staring out at the countryside hurtling past. Harry was sitting with his eyes closed, making a concentrated effort to control his breathing. He had been very quiet since his rather surprising realisation earlier. Etean was seriously curious about what was going on in his head, however his thoughts were currently veiled by a solid wall of occlumentic control.

Snape tensed in his seat. "I believe," his voice belayed his tension, "that we are approaching our destination. He turned to Etean, who nodded. Without a word, he reached out and tugged the leather arm rest between them down and calmly flipped the brass lid on the carriage's manual control open.

Normally the carriages were navigated solely by the hippogriffs, who could find an igloo in a blizzard if given adequate instruction prior to take off. Times sometimes did provide the necessity however, for the passengers to be in direct control of the flight. The controls consisted of no more than a compass showing their current heading relative to the four cardinal points. A small brass bar was set in a gimbal above the compass disc and was free to rotate and tilt freely in any direction. Connected via a series of charms to the hippogriffs's harnesses, one need only turn and tip the bar to signal a desired change of direction.

Snape listened intently as Etean explained the controls. Then nodded his understanding and took over the helm. The carriage lurched hard to the side and lost altitude dramatically. There was a momentary flash of panic by all inside until Snape managed to correct his error.

"Settle down you lot," he hollered, even though Etean had distinctly heard him roar over the noise of the others, "This would be easier, Mr Etean, if I could see where I was going."

Etean nodded. "Brace yourselves," he advised the Gryffindors as he reached once more for the invisibility charm. Tapping it twice, he activated the second level of the charm. Neville let out a strangled cry as the leather seat vanished beneath him, followed by the walls and the floor. It appeared to everyone now that they were all floating in mid air, suspended by nothing more substantial than the breeze…which they couldn't feel. Etean, being the only one who knew what was about to happen, grinned at their stunned faces.

"Now then," Snape cleared his throat, never taking his hand off the now invisible controls, "I want you all to get comfortable and pay attention to your surroundings."

"I still don't see how this is going to work," Ron moaned.

Snape sighed. "As I have already explained, the information we have about the conditions in Coventry is fragmented and incomplete. This is going to be our single greatest opportunity to carry out daylight reconnaissance on the occupied territory. We are going to make several passes at as low an altitude as we can, protected by our invisibility shield. Any information we learn here may well influence the final outcome of the war." Snape shot Harry a meaningful look and a nod, which Harry returned solemnly. "All of what we see today," Snape continued, "Will be transferred into a penseive once we reach London, and will be examined by Ministerial officers in great detail. I expect all of you to take this most seriously."

That was it, the occupants of the carriage all took up their positions, sitting so as to view a different portion of the scene below. Under Snape's increasingly steady guidance, they rose slightly to follow the crest of a hill and then suddenly, Coventry lay beneath them. Snape tipped the needle back slightly, slowing their pace as they soared above the first of the city's suburbs. Etean turned to view the city below.

From their vantage point about a hundred feet in the air, the devastation that had befallen the city was clearly visible. The photographs and penseive images he had seen of this hadn't done it justice. They had captured the individual destruction, but not the sheer, terrible scale of it. Etean could see entire houses that had been completely and utterly torn asunder. Debris that he forced himself to forget was the shattered remnants of innocent people's lives littered the streets. Muggle cars and other, larger vehicles had been lifted and hurled about as though they were toys. Here and there lay scattered human remains, though thankfully not many. It wasn't really a comfort to Etean, between the hags, ghouls and vampires, he knew full well that all he was seeing was what little had been left for the rats.

Neville wretched and barely avoided vomiting when he saw a large green bus turned on its side. Lettering painted on the side and still just legible declared it to be the primary conveyance of St Thomas' Primary School. The windows and indeed the side of the vehicle itself were stained with blood, which had dried and left to stain after the children that it once sustained had been carried off.

"How could they?" he asked.

"It was probably the work of werewolves," Snape said coldly, "To them, one meal is the same as any other."

Neville goggled at his teacher. Harry and Ron exchanged pained glances. Etean saw that he was in mind to say something, but he stopped himself and returned to his duties.

This part of the city appeared largely deserted from where Etean sat. Snape apparently agreed as he put them into a large climbing bank and turned them to head westward over the bulk of the city. Turning to look at the Professor, Etean caught sight of Birmingham on the horizon. The larger, neighbouring city had been spared its smaller neighbour's fate and would currently just be awakening for another day. Etean wondered if the huge muggle army currently encamped over almost a quarter of the city was anything more than an inconvenience to those muggles that had remained after the initial evacuation. After all, who needed soldiers to protect them from chemical spills?

That was muggles for you, feed them any old nonsense and they just carry on regardless. Etean shook his head, wondering how they hadn't managed to destroy themselves a dozen times over. There weren't any wizards left near here to be guarded, that was for sure. The proximity of Birmingham to Voldemort's new base of operations had caused it to become a ghost town so far as the wizards had been concerned. Young and old, healthy and infirm, they had all fled their homes and scattered to the far corners of the land to escape the shadow of death that fell suddenly upon them. The Ministry was maintaining a twenty mile cordon around Coventry, but Etean wondered if there was a single wizard living in peace within fifty miles, or even a hundred.

The carriage dipped and looped around the massive stone cathedral at the heart of the city and started a low, slow pass over the most built up area. Again, the destruction here was near total, the invaders seeming to take the utmost pleasure in tearing the muggle shopping and commercial district apart. Etean shuddered at the thought of the sport they had had here.

The air seemed to grow chillier all of a sudden. Etean didn't seem to be the only one who noticed it. Ron was bundling himself up and Neville was visibly shaking.

"Dementors," Snape said simply, pointing off to the right.

Etean looked down and saw them, a trio of ghostly figures rounding a corner and floating slowly down what was left of a broad high street. As they all watched, the lead member of the group stopped in place and turned. It took Snape a half second longer than it took Harry to realise why.

"He can see us," he exclaimed as the carriage bucked and rose unsteadily to over two hundred feet. The dementors below shrank to no more than black dots. They hovered for a moment more, and then continued on their way.

"I thought we were invisible," Ron said, sounding worried.

"Dementors don't see," Harry said, "They feel your joy, your happiness. That was what made them turn."

"Whatever," Neville said, "If they can detect us, shouldn't we get the hell out of here?"

"That's enough of that language, Longbottom," Snape snapped at him, "And to answer your question, no we most certainly are not leaving, at least, not until we have taken a look at the wizard quarter."

Etean looked at Snape, quietly wondering just how far he was willing to risk their lives to be the one who delivered the, admittedly necessary, intelligence to London. He forced his face to remain placid as he watched Snape turn them once more. As they levelled out to head south, his gaze met Ron's and he knew, without any form of telepathy, that the Gryffindor was thinking the exact same thing. Beads of sweat were starting to form on Potter's brow as he continued his perpetual stare at the scenes below.

They crossed the magical barrier shrouding the wizard quarter. As the largest wizarding population outside London, Coventry had some of the most complex and extensive wards in place to shield its population. This place had been home to over five hundred wizards, two thirds the population of London itself. Unlike the capital, however, the wizards of Coventry had chosen to congregate rather than spreading out in individually disguised homes dotted throughout the metropolis. Harking back an age, the wizard quarter of Coventry had once been the jewel in England's crown, a place of light, art and culture. With nearly three square miles of the city was completely hidden from muggle eyes, it offered freedom to live, freedom to move. But, that was then, this was now, for the last several weeks, no free wizard had as much as laid eyes on the place in daylight.

Most of what Etean saw now was residential, though he knew it had all the usual amenities one would expect to find in such a place. It had had, Etean had to force himself to think in the past tense. Coventry was no more. What lay beneath him now was a shattered dream, a dead world.

Dragging himself back to the task at hand, Etean looked for and instantly saw the Ministry complex. Towering at a full fifty feet above its neighbouring structures, it rose as a solid stone edifice from the centre of a mess of endlessly twisted cobbled streets to dominate the skyline. Looking at it, Etean saw the point of its design. The magical wards and invisibility barriers kept prying muggle eyes from looking in, but they did nothing to keep wizards from looking out. That building, with its stark architecture would have echoed the muggle cathedral behind them on the horizon, giving the wizards a landmark of their own. It was a shame it had become a target.

The streets below were no longer empty. Closer to their new found home, the followers of Voldemort seemed to grow more brazen. Few wizards wandered the streets that he could see, but there was no shortage of foul beasts and hideous sights to behold. They passed high over a large open courtyard which instantly said 'prison' to Etean. He saw both Ron and Neville pale as they saw a young man, wizard or muggle, there was no way to tell, being led out into the square. A few dark hooded figures watched on and cheered as one of their number sent a spell toward the helpless man, disembowelling him where he stood, but without killing him. A gate at the side of the yard opened and two thestrals stalked in, drawn to the blood. The death Eaters cheered again as the two hapless creatures obeyed the call of their nature and began devouring the still quivering man as he bled to death before them.

They banked away again, much to their collective relief before the macabre show could continue. Etean looked over to see that Neville had turned green in his seat. Ron beside him was fuming and clenching his teeth, letting his revulsion fuel anger. Harry sat still, his face was drawn and pale with deep concentration. To look at them, it was clear that they were in no shape to continue to watch these events. Etean silently cursed Snape once more for their presence.

"I think, Professor," he said calmly, "That we have seen enough for today."

Snape barely seemed to hear him. His gaze was fixed over Neville's shoulder at the approaching hulk of the former Ministry headquarters. They were not leaving, Etean guessed, until they'd had a closer look. Snape guided them higher, so that they cleared the walls and looked down from above at the complex, and then leaned them into a lazy spiral, gradually circling lower.

Built as a perfect rectangle with a large open court in the centre, the plan view of the building resembled a medieval monastic cloister. Death Eaters were clearly visible patrolling the battlements on guard, keeping an eye on things around Voldemort's city for him. Identifying them as individuals would have been all but impossible from the ground. From where Etean sat it was futile to even try. Events in the courtyard however, were a lot clearer.

Etean heard Harry let out a low moan. Snape coughed hard. He was for a moment puzzled as to why; surely they had both seen a dragon before. They continued to circle lower. Etean could now clearly make out the shape of at least a dozen Death Eaters surrounding what he was fairly certain was a full grown Norwegian Ridgeback. Etean's mind raced, trying to remember his basic animal identification. The enlarged head and slate grey bone ridges on the beast's spine meant it was a male, and an old one by the size of it. The Death Eaters were attempting to subdue the creature. It looked to him like they were actively engaged in an effort to train the thing, though he had no clue about why. Dragons were notoriously difficult to tame, in fact many claimed it was impossible. Their size and their awesome power was impressive to be sure, but what was that without control?

Etean was suddenly distracted by a loud groan from Potter. He slumped forward and fell from his seat onto the invisible floor with a heavy thump. In a flash, both Ron and Snape were beside him.

Snape battered Ron away and took Harry's head in his hands. "Can you hear me, Potter?" No response. The carriage dropped yet lower, they were passing below the level of the rooftops. Etean reached out to stall their descent before returning his attention to Harry. The Ether around him was a turgid storm. Snape continued to call him. "Potter….can you hear me? … Pot…Harry, Harry can you hear me?"

Harry went stiff in Snape's arms, his eyes slammed open and he stared up at the ceiling. "He is here," his voice was a hoarse scratch. Before any of them had a chance to question what was going on, before any of them could even process what they had just heard, Neville roared,

"The Dragon!"

Etean's head spun. The hairs on his neck rose in alarm as he saw the dragon's head turning toward them. Guided by a force that Etean didn't know, the beast was levelling its gaze right at the carriage as it circled a full thirty feet from its nose. Its mouth agape, Etean could see the boiling fire of its gullet ignite with rage. Only the angle of its neck prevented it from incinerating them on the spot, but that would soon change. The beast reared, tearing free of its restraints and lunged at them as they continued on course. Snape dropped Harry and lunged for the controls. His fingers were an inch from the gimbal when the dragon reared and belched a ball of searing heat straight at them.

There was a deafening roar, then, with a heart stopping lurch, the carriage canted back and shot skyward. The dragon fire hit, and for a moment they were engulfed in a world of fire and brimstone, but then they were soaring high once more. Etean looked at Ron, who was staring at Snape, who was watching Neville, who was being violently sick in the corner. Each of them got the merest second to catch a breath before a second hideous shudder rocked the carriage and the seat beneath Etean fell away.

---

Hermione was fast. Draco hadn't ever had to really chase her before now, and he was glad of it. Even knowing where she was going, cutting every corner so close he took plaster with him and taking advantage of every short cut he could remember on his mad dash after her, Draco was only just able to keep her in sight.

Convinced that she was about do down the potion whole, Draco urged himself onward to stop her. He rounded the corner of the short corridor just in time to see her ankles disappear from view up the stairs. Draco slammed through the doorway as it tried to close on him and took the steps three at a bound in a desperate attempt to intercept her. He finally caught up with her as she ran across the floor of the bedroom toward the waiting cauldron. The speed of their travel being so fast, that there was no way that either could have safely stopped in the space available. Dissolving as they did into a mass of tangled limbs and robes, it was all that Draco could do to maintain their momentum and land them on the bed, albeit awkwardly. His knee collided with the edge of the bed frame and he distinctly thought he heard something crack. There was no answering flash of pain however, so he assumed that the wood had at least partly given way. Hermione gave him no time to reflect on the situation.

No sooner had she landed, than she was immediately struggling to stand up again. Draco, fighting for breath and blinking away some rather annoying purple blotches from his eyes, had to grapple and physically wrestle with her in his attempts to hold her down. She fought him, scratching and slapping with all her might, all the while growling in a distinctly animalistic tone. Far from arousing, Draco found this sound distinctly unnerving to hear from her. In the end he had to roll on top of her and use his full weight to pin her down before he got the better of her.

"Calm down, Hermione, please," he pleaded with her.

Hermione rocked and struggled for a moment more before finally seeming to accept her predicament. Her entire demeanour shifted drastically. She looked up at him with a pained expression on her face. Her fingers came up and touched his chin. Her brow knitted as she moved them to gently caress his cheeks and neck. Draco stared down at her as she continued to tactilely examine his face. Her pained expression deepened as her fingers slipped into his hair and balled into fists. One second of searing pain later and Draco found himself face down on the quilt with her head buried into the nape of his neck. Hermione released her hold on his head in favour of a strong grip around his neck and shoulders. Draco relaxed, exhausted, he let his body flop down onto her, honestly not sure if he possessed the strength to lift himself up again. Beneath him, he could hear Hermione sob hard. Her breathing was slow and laboured, after a moment, Draco's oxygen starved brain realised why.

With an almighty effort and a creaking neck, Draco pushed himself off her and rolled onto his back. Hermione held onto him throughout his roll, and so he pulled her with him. She landed on his chest and promptly curled up into a tiny ball against him and continued to cry as he wrapped his arms about her and stared at the ceiling.

'All in all,' he thought to himself, 'A pretty perfect fuck up!'

Draco lay there, silently berating himself for ever suggesting that Hermione go to see that blasted creature for over an hour. What had he been thinking? He must have been out of his mind to allow that monster within ten feet of Hermione in her current state. What the hell had he done to her? What new twisted images had he shown her? What were they going to do now? Draco knew what Hermione wanted to do, why else would she have come tearing up here so fast? The aroma of the potion was faint in the air now, but it was enough to remind Draco of the events of last night. His mind started to run in circles.

Draco tuned out Hermione's individual moans and her occasional clawing at his neck. It was only when she relaxed her grip on his neck and straightened herself out alongside him that he came to and nudged her, "You with me?" he asked, the question seeming marginally less pathetic than, 'Are you OK?'

Hermione nodded against his shoulder. "Yes," she said into his robes.

Draco didn't want to ask the next question, but his mind left him no other options. "What happened?"

Hermione sniffed and was silent for a long time. "We…we," she started at last.

Draco's nerve broke. "Shhh, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I…I want to, I," she mumbled, her fingers tightened in his hair again, though not as painfully, "Firenze, he….we went into my mind. He was there…with me in my head. He said that…that my dreams…they aren't coming from me…"

Draco remembered the talk of stars. "I remember," he said, unconsciously starting to stroke her arm.

"You do?" Hermione lifted her head and then shook it and buried it again, "Yes of course you do…I was awake for that part wasn't I? That isn't what I meant though…he said that," she paused, Draco could almost feel her frown, "Some of the visions are from the 'stars,' but not all of them – some of them come from somewhere else."

"Did he say where?"

"Soul echoes…"

"What?"

Hermione shrugged against him, "He said that sometimes people can pick up bits and pieces of souls that cross their path. Little bits of other people, of their lives and their problems get lodged in your mind and buried."

Draco shook his head, "Well, it's no weirder than any of the other ideas we came across. Do you believe it?"

Another shrug, Hermione nuzzled further into his robes, "I don't know," he could barely hear her now, "The way he tells it, it happens all the time. It's just that most people never feel them or see them, they are just in there, like dirt in a puddle."

Draco frowned at what she was saying, "So, there are little bits of other people inside me?"

"Apparently."

Something didn't add up. Firenze's explanation was about as balmy as any one of a dozen that Draco could name, and a damned sight better than a load more, but, "So," he said carefully, "What was it that upset you so much?"

Hermione's fingers slid out of his hair and ran down his neck to his chest. She pressed them into his flesh for a moment before closing a fist in his robes and squeezing, "Firenze triggered one of my dreams…he said it was an accident, but I don't know…"

"Which dream?"

"The one with the wolf…but it was different this time, clearer somehow. I could breathe, I could run, and…and I saw what was at the end of the tunnel."

"A vortex wasn't it?"

"No, the other end, the one I could never reach before. I got there this time, and I saw…"

"What?"

Her fist tightened, "You!" she said simply.

"Me?"

Hermione nodded, Draco craned his neck to try and see her. "Yes…I saw you…I saw you…die!"

"What?" Draco sat bolt upright. Hermione rolled off him but he caught her and hauled her up. Her face was streaked with tears which seemed to flow again when she looked him in the eye. All she could do to answer his question was nod, but that wasn't enough for Draco. "Tell me, Hermione…tell me what you saw."

She shook her head and tried to melt into him again but Draco needed to see her face so he held her where she was. "Please," he said as softly as he could force his voice, "tell me."

She sniffed hard and cleared her throat twice before she managed to speak. "I…I was standing at the vortex. The whole corridor was shaking so hard I could barely keep my feet. Suddenly, I don't know how, I just knew what I had to do, I had to get to the other end of the passage so I could help you…you were in trouble…you needed me," she paused and sniffed again, this time Draco let her move closer and rest on his shoulder as she continued, "I ran…I ran as hard and as fast as I could. My throat was on fire and my lungs felt like they'd been ripped right out of me, but I had to keep going even…even though I knew that I was going to be too late to save you."

A heavy sob ran through her, stopping her tale for several seconds that seemed to Draco to be more like hours. "I got to the…en…the end of the tunnel, there was some steps cut into the rock. I ran up them and got outside…" she tailed off.

"Then what?" Draco urged, "Was I outside? Was I there?"

"No," she shuddered, "There was nothing there…just ash and fire and death, the whole world was dead for miles and miles. I couldn't breathe, the air was burning my skin. Then the ground shook harder than before, I spun round, and there…there was a…mountain…a mountain of fire."

Draco's heart leaped into his throat. A vortex leading to a passage…a passage ending in stairs that opened onto the base of a volcano? One word echoed and repeated in his ears over the sound of his own roaring heart…Etheros!

Hermione continued. "I looked up at the top of the mountain…there was a light…a bright light that was getting brighter and brighter. You were up there, I knew you were…and you were about to…" she pulled back so he could see her face and her red rimmed eyes, "I was too late. The world was being sucked toward the light. There was nothing I could do but watch as it all stopped and then…"

"Then?" Draco asked, even though he knew the answer. Fear and pain washed over him as he realised. She had seen his end, his final doom. All that was missing was…

"Then it exploded…the whole mountain just exploded…" She started to paw and wipe at his face again. "I saw you die Draco," she repeated. Draco would have given anything for her not to say it again, but she did. "I saw you die and there wasn't anything I could do to save you. I failed you, I…"

He pulled her to him, more so she wouldn't see his face than out of a desire not to see her cry anymore. He felt as thought the air had been sucked out of him. The weight of his destiny slammed into his heart, stopping it cold. He had accepted that he would die…well as far as one can accept impending painful death, but the truth of it was that he hadn't been thinking about it lately…he had been to wrapped up in Hermione to care about much else. Now it came back as a stab in his chest, he was going to die and she was going to be there?

'NO!' "Shhh," he rubbed her back, "It was just a dream…pictures and sounds from some evil part of your brain. It doesn't matter." He deliberately whispered to keep her from hearing the waver he felt in his voice.

"But what if it's real though?" Hermione asked the question he couldn't answer truthfully, so he lied.

"It isn't. It just isn't," he kept repeating it in her ear until she stopped arguing.

She was quiet for a while, and then she spoke. "I can't see that again, Draco," she whimpered, "I just can't, I…"

"Shhh," he soothed, his eyes settled on the potion. There was no option now, "you won't."

---

Etean hurtled sideways. Before he knew what was going on, his forehead collided with the invisible wall of the carriage and stars exploded before his eyes. His instincts kicked in and he pushed out to slow time so he could have time to think. The first thing he did was release the invisibility charm inside the carriage. He'd have to let time speed up for it to stop working, but at least when he did they'd be able to see what was going on.

He rolled over to see the startled face of Severus Snape hanging inches from his nose. The Potions Master was no oil painting at the best of times, though he did sometimes look like he'd been painted with oil, or at least grease. Seeing him hanging, terrified in mid plummet however, was an image that Etean was sure would stay with him for the remainder of his life. Ron, Neville and Harry were in no better predicaments either. This would be a bumpy few seconds. Etean shook himself, this wasn't helping matters. He struggled to make sense of what had just happened. The dragon had, by some miracle or other, managed to hit them dead on with a blast of fire. Momentary panic aside, they were safe. The carriage was tough enough to take a little fire. The shield charms should have also protected the hippogriffs…so why were they currently listing at over sixty degrees?

'Right, first things first…find out what happened…mental note, don't crash…whatever you do, do not stop this carriage here!'

Etean rolled out from beneath the inanimate Professor and stretched out his mind to the gimbal. He noticed that it didn't currently reflect their trajectory, which registered as a bad sign, but he persevered. Once he had adjusted it sufficiently to correct their flight, he tensed himself for the inevitable bedlam to follow as he released time. There was a very painful sounding crunch as Snape hit the wall beside him, followed closely by Ron and Neville on the other side and Harry rolling into a ball beneath his feet. They hung their, pressed by centrifugal force against the wall for what seemed like an age.

The hippogriff team took a little longer than he would have liked to recover, but, eventually, they righted the carriage enough to allow movement. Etean shook himself and pushed off from the wall as he slid down, so as to avoid crushing the still immobile Harry. The carriage continued to rock and shudder violently beneath him as he made his way to the forward wall and snapped back the cover of the porthole to look out at their pilots. He scowled when he saw the problem. Altair! He was out of formation and thrashing madly against his harness in blind panic. Etean tried to piece the events together as he watched the beast weave in the air. He must have been spooked by the light and sound of the dragon's flame. It was the only thing that made sense. As head of the team, the others were trained to take their cues from him. Therefore, when he panicked and scrambled for altitude, the others followed his lead, resulting in their rather unsettling climb, and now, in their erratic flight.

To make matters worse, it appeared as though all of his struggling had broken him at least part of the way free of his harness. Now his movements were a detriment to the others rather than a help. His uneven harness prevented him from adequately steering himself, while his signals to the others transferred through the harness were causing them to buck and weave too. Altair's predicament even seemed to be marring his flight stability, his wing continually connecting with the broken spar and making him flinch.

"How badly were we hit?" Snape asked him, slightly groggily from his new found seat.

"Is it bad?" Neville added, seeming nervous as he knelt beside Harry.

Etean screwed up his face in thought. "We weren't hit, not exactly," he answered the Professor first, "but it is bad. Altair has wrenched his harness."

"Altair?" Neville asked.

Snape waved him off. "How do you mean?" he asked, looking down to examine the rather rosy bruise forming on Harry's temple.

"I mean, either our lead hippogriff pulls away from us completely in the next few minutes, tearing the rest of the reins as he does, and we tumble to our deaths, or he stays attached and drags us about the sky like his own personal rag doll until we inevitably crash to our deaths…"

"Or?" Snape said calmly.

Etean sighed. "Or, we hope and pray that we can get far enough away from this infernal city and then make a safe landing to allow me to fix this thing."

Snape nodded. "That's better," he seemed to be satisfied for the moment that Harry was in no danger, and cast a weather eye on each of the rest of the students, gauging their disposition, "How far do we need to go?"

"Past the cordon at least," Etean said pensively, mentally working it out. "That's at least ten miles at a guess," he took a glance out the window, "At this rate, we'll do that in about three minutes, but even if we do make it, I don't know what kind of landing we can pull of…this thing is tough, but it isn't indestructible."

"Will the harness hold for that long?" Ron asked as he propped himself up against the seat by Snape's knee and rubbed his knee.

"We'll find out in three minutes," Etean answered him. "Keep steering us down a touch, with a slight lean to the right," he instructed Snape, "That should keep Altair in position as much as possible."

Etean turned back to the window and started to count down from one hundred and eighty. Three minutes was just a guess, he really had no idea how far they'd get in that time, but it was a nice round number, if only slightly realistic. Snape's long slow descent wouldn't do a thing to help them, but Snape would think it did. Right now, that was enough. Etean stretched out his mind to the lead of the carriage team. He made three attempts to snare the flailing harness before he caught it and tugged it back toward Altair. He pulled it taut and held on for dear life. Behind him, he heard Harry start to come round and Ron attempt to settle him, the fear in his voice clearly evident.

The seconds slid by agonisingly slowly. Etean felt his faint grip on the harness start to slip. He wasn't going to be able to hold it much longer, and when his grip went, Altair would certainly break free. At the two minute mark he heard Snape tell the other three to take cover. He yelled at Etean too over the growing rattle in the carriage as the harness continued to buck and whip against its brackets, but Etean ignored him; if they got down in one piece, he'd be ok, if they didn't then no amount of cover would make the slightest difference. With forty five seconds remaining he heard Snape screaming again for him to take cover. The floor dropped from beneath him as Snape hit the gimbal hard with his palm, mashing it down as the signal for the team to land the carriage. Etean felt his grip fly loose on the harness as Snape tackled him bodily from behind and bore him down onto the seat. The tension in the carriage mounted as they dropped out of the sky. Etean felt Snape tense, realising that the ground wasn't far away, but his face was too muffled to be able to tell the Professor what to expect.

The carriage dropped fast and then landed with an impossibly loud clatter. The sound reverberated around the cabin like a clap of thunder…but that was all they felt.

Snape released Etean and sat back. Etean turned round to see his expression of confusion turn to a scowl. "What was that?"

"The harness," Etean breathed, "it held…the hippogriffs got us down…anything they can take, this carriage can take."

"So in other words," Ron looked over with a rueful grin, "We were lucky?"

"Well," Etean shrugged, "Yeah. If the harness had given out even a few seconds before we landed…we'd…well, we wouldn't be having this chat now would we?"

Etean didn't wait for an answer. He picked himself up and clambered rather stiffly out of the carriage. Neville was behind him in a second, spilling yet more of his breakfast onto the ground. Etean surveyed their surroundings. They had come to a halt in the middle of a rather large grazing field. There were no livestock in sight, but that wasn't a surprise to him, given what manner of thing lived just a few short miles away.

When he had caught his breath, Etean turned to make an inspection of the carriage. He examined the wheels and the suspension, everything seemed to have held together alright. The harness brackets…all fine. The chassis seemed to be in one piece…everything good there. The majority of the harness rigging against the hippogriffs was intact too; right up to…he let out a whistle, Ron had certainly been right, they had been lucky. Altair's harness was hanging on by a thread, or rather, a buckle. Etean looked at his family crest glinting in the early morning sunlight, barely caught in the loop of the harness. He felt his gaze drawn skyward.

"Thank you, father," he whispered, "Looks like I owe you one!"

"How is it?" Ron's voice beside him made him jump. He turned to look at him for a moment and then back to Altair. His harness was in tatters, but that wasn't the worst problem in evidence. Even standing still, Etean could see him favouring his right foreleg.

"We're in good shape I think, but this," he pointed to Altair, "is a problem."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, appearing at Ron's elbow. He looked as pale as watered down milk. Etean was amazed at the fact that he could stand, let alone walk.

"Harry?" Ron asked, taking his arm, "You should sit down, mate."

"I'm fine," Harry shook him off, "What's the problem?" he asked again.

Etean shrugged and turned back to Altair, bowing slightly. "He's hurt," the hippogriff bowed back to him and Etean approached, gingerly reaching out to touch his shoulder joint. Altair recoiled and hissed furiously, "Ok, ok," Etean spread his arms in surrender, "I won't touch it, but I have to undo the harness, alright?"

Altair eyed him cautiously for a moment, and then bowed again. "Can he fly?" Harry asked as Etean started to remove the remnants of the harness.

The shoulder injury would certainly affect him in flight, slow him down, reduce his ability to manoeuvre easily, but, "I think so," he responded. Once Altair was freed, he took a few ginger steps forward and stopped a short distance away, again favouring his leg badly. Etean frowned, "But I don't think he'll be able to go back into the formation, not today at the very least."

"That is a problem," Ron said, surveying their surroundings, "How far do you suppose we've come?"

"Not far enough," Snape answered as he strode over from tending to Neville's dodgy stomach, "We need to get airborne again as soon as possible," he took hold of Harry and persuaded him to sit as he took another look at the glaring bruise on his head, "How long do you suppose it will take?"

Etean gave the carriage another brief examination. "Not too long. I can repair the harness and rig it to take an eleven hippogriff team instead of twelve. It won't be as manoeuvrable, or quite as fast, but it'll fly."

"Then do it," Snape ordered, scanning the horizon warily, "and hurry."

Etean nodded and set to work. He severed a couple of the guide straps that had been attached to Altair and tossed them aside.

"What about Altair?" Ron asked. Etean looked over to see him petting the hippogriff gently. "Don't we need him to steer us or something?"

Etean smiled. 'Well spotted,' "You'll be alright," he said, "Sirius can guide you just as easily. The rest will follow his lead just as they followed Altair," he reached up to pet Altair's flying partner affectionately. As he adjusted the bridle, he became aware of a very pregnant silence behind them. He turned round to see Ron, Harry and even Snape looking at him like he had just grown horns. "What?"

Harry stood up. "What did you say?"

Etean frowned. "What?" he thought back, "I said Sirius here can steer you to London," Harry looked at Sirius, his face fell, "What?" Etean laughed, "He isn't going to get lost or anything…"

Harry wasn't listening to him. He walked up and bowed slightly to Sirius and then approached on his welcoming nod. Ron abandoned Altair and joined him. Etean looked at the two of them petting the great silver beast with a vague sense that he was missing something. He finished tying the harness together, satisfied that it would hold and moved off. He stopped beside Professor Snape, who looked at him and shook his head. "Long story," he said, "Are we ready."

Etean nodded. "You're all set. You can leave when ready. You shouldn't need the controls; Sirius can get you there on his own."

Snape nodded, and then paused. "Guide us?" he glowered at Etean, "What about you?"

Etean pointed to his injured pet. "I can't leave him here, and he won't be able to keep up with the carriage. But he'll follow me to London easily enough at his own pace."

"I hope you don't think that I am about to leave you here, Mr Etean," Snape snarled, "In case you had forgotten, this isn't safe territory at the moment."

Etean rolled his eyes. "No, I hadn't forgotten, and the longer we stand here arguing, the less safe it gets. I'll be fine Professor," he smiled, "there are precious few things in this world that can catch an eagle when it has a mind not to be caught. Now please, go, I'll be right behind you."

Snape didn't seem the least bit happy with the arrangement, but as far as Etean was concerned, he could lump it. The thought of actually flying to London had lodged in his brain, and he wasn't about to give it up. In the end, after a brief and utterly fruitless argument, Snape ordered the other three into the carriage and, with one last savage warning, clambered aboard. It took a moment for Ron and Harry to tear themselves from Sirius. After a second shout from Snape, Ron limped over to the doorway behind a very reluctant Harry and turned to Etean. "You know," he started, "If you don't make it to London…Ginny will be pissed!"

Etean nodded, a little confused at the gesture.

Ron climbed up, helped with his knee by Neville. Snape shook his head once more at Etean and then closed the door. Etean watched as the carriage rumbled off and took to the sky. It was soon lost amid the clouds. Etean took a deep breath…he was free, at least for the moment. He moved over to Altair and petted him. "Are you up for this boy?" he asked, "Can you make it all the way to London?"

The hippogriff looked at him with a glare that clearly said, 'Of course I can, petty human, lead on!' Etean smiled. He turned to get his bearings and stopped short as the tiny hairs on his neck told him he was being watched. He turned his gaze to the eastern hill to see a trio of black figures, silhouetted against an angry sky, gazing down at him. Etean tensed for a moment, and then noted that none of them had their wands drawn. 'Lets not give them a chance to change their minds,' he thought. "Come on, Altair!" he called as he sprinted into the air and headed south east without so much as a backward glance.

A/N: There seems to be a bit of confusion over who exactly went to London and who stayed behind. The travelling groups were: Carriage 1: Snape, Etean, Harry, Ron and Neville. Carriage 2: McGonagall, Ginny, Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones and Terry Boot. Everyone else - Hermione and Draco included stayed in Hogwarts...hopes this clears it up.