For a week after Harry had been called out to the Forbidden Forest, Hermione watched him put himself back together and helped where she could. If she was honest, the time was also helpful to her. While Harry was occupied with whatever had happened, Hermione was determined that she would regain the balance that had been upset by her relationship with him.
That she had procrastinated on doing her homework bothered the ever studious girl and she was determined to find a way to keep abreast of her assignments while also spending time with Harry. Unfortunately this had been easier said than done. Time and again Hermione found herself drifting to the extreme of ignoring either her work or her friends. While that had been an easy choice to make in primary school where she didn't much care for any of her classmates, her desire to be near Harry had made it unacceptable for her to get lost entirely in her schoolwork.
By the end of the week, Hermione couldn't say that she had actually managed to find a balance she was happy with. She was getting better at identifying when she was caught in a balance she wasn't happy with.
Nothing for it but to keep working on it, old girl, she told herself. In the meantime she had something else that would hopefully get her back into a more familiar state of mind. At least half of my distraction is due to Harry being so dratted mysterious. If I can just get him to tell me what happened in the Forest, I'm certain that I'll be more easily able to focus on my assignments.
The sliver of doubt lingering in the back of her thoughts was expertly squashed as Hermione returned her focus to her Defence class. She hadn't been this eager for the lesson to end since she walked into her first one and for an entirely different reason.
"I think that's enough for now," Harry finished, moving his head awkwardly in a way that suggested that he was carrying enough tension for his neck to have gotten stiff.
Hermione quickly packed away her things, a plan already forming in her mind for how she would try to broach the subject of Harry's night-time escapade. Once she had everything in her bag and stood up, the room shifted around them to produce the comfortable couch they relaxed on after classes.
Harry flopped down on the couch as soon as it looked solid and dropped his head against the backrest. Hermione could see that his eyes were closed. Stepping closer, she rested her bag against a worn, wooden couch leg. Steeling her nerves, she placed her hands on his shoulders and awkwardly began to rhythmically squeeze them.
A low moan informed her that her novice efforts were being appreciated. "What did I do to deserve this?" Harry slurred out, his head dropping forward to give her better access.
Hermione tried to massage his neck, rubbing and squeezing as she tried to get a feel for what she was doing. "You've been tutoring me all year. Besides, you're my b-boyfriend and your neck was visibly tense."
"You're the best."
Hermione kept massaging for several minutes, but soon felt her hands beginning to tire from the unaccustomed labour. She scaled her ministrations down to gentle caresses of Harry's neck, hoping he wouldn't think she was weak for giving up on the harder kneading. Alright, old girl. You can do this. Into the breach.
"Harry?"
"Hm?" Harry sounded like he was almost asleep.
"What happened in the Forest? After the Headmaster summoned you, I mean."
Hermione felt her boyfriend tense back up under her fingers before he let out a sigh and took her hand and pulled her around the couch to sit down next to him. "I honestly thought you would have asked sooner," he quipped with what was clearly trying to be a reassuring grin.
Hermione just met his worried eyes and said nothing.
Harry let out another sigh and turned his eyes towards the wall, though he seemed to be looking far beyond it. He was quiet for a long while and his voice nearly startled Hermione when he finally started talking. "The figures we saw that night did turn out to be centaurs. They said that they had been sent to summon me and me alone to a meeting in the woods; sent by someone they called the Horned One."
Hermione's breath whistled as it was sucked between her teeth. "The Oak King," she breathed out, very sure of her guess, even if she would have had no supporting evidence to offer anyone who questioned her.
Harry just smiled sadly at her. "Exactly what I thought when they said it," he told her.
Hermione felt a brief warmth bloom in her chest at this evidence that they had shared the same reaction to this news.
"Since it was the Oak King summoning me, I felt I had to go."
"But-" Hermione had to bite her lip to stop the rest of her protest from slipping out. Harry just looked at her with an invitation to continue written all over his face. "Weren't you scared that he might do something to you? Something else that would hurt you as badly as the last time?"
Harry shook his head. "Honestly? That didn't even occur to me. I was more scared that this was some fresh horror I didn't know anything about."
"Oh." Not so in synch after all.
"Anyway, I followed the centaurs into the Forest while Dumbledore headed back up to the castle. The centaurs led me back to the clearing where we first met the Oak King." A look from Hermione was enough to get him expanding on that. "Sorry. It's a large, more or less circular, clearing. Even though it's winter, the ground was entirely covered with moss and flowering plants. At the centre of the clearing is a giant oak tree. That's where I summoned the Oak King and where he appeared this time."
Harry paused and took a deep breath. "The Oak King told me- well, he told me a lot of things, actually. He said that I was the only one that he could call since I'm the only mortal he's made a pact with that's still alive. That there is an Enemy he's fighting and that he needs my help to do it."
When Harry stopped talking right at the climax, Hermione forced herself to not demand the end of the story impatiently from him. Instead she squeezed his hand and tried to look supportive.
Harry looked like he might bolt at any second and couldn't hold her eyes. "He- the Oak King said that he needed an Avatar and then he- I don't know what he did, but he touched my head and everything got really hot until it stopped and the world was cold again. He told me to fight his Enemy and that I will get something if I win."
"At least he's not expecting you to do it for nothing?" Hermione tried, her mind furiously poking at this new problem from as many angles as she could.
"If I don't win, this Enemy will kill me," Harry told her sourly, bringing all Hermione's thoughts crashing to a halt.
"What?! How could he? Isn't it enough that you already have You Know Who after your life?" She realised that she had leapt to her feet at some point. There was too much agitation in her to sit down again and she started pacing in an attempt to bleed some of it off. "Why must this sort of thing always happen to you, Harry?"
"Animal magnetism," her boyfriend responded with an unenthusiastic shrug.
"Harry," Hermione warned.
Harry looked at her and slumped deeper into the couch, running his hand through his hair uncomfortably. "I don't know. There's a fair chance that the Enemy, or at least the avatar of that Enemy that the Oak King mentioned is actually Riddle anyways. I'm not sure whether that makes it better or worse though."
"So either you have two powerful enemies or one supremely powerful enemy? You're right: that's not better at all."
"Which one?"
"Either! Both! I don't know."
Harry got up and wrapped Hermione in a hug. "Hey. It's going to be alright. You forgot that I also got power."
"Power you don't know how to use," Hermione grumbled bitterly.
"Power I don't know how to use," Harry agreed. "Guess I'm just going to have to study some obscure, as good as fantastical things. Lots of old books that barely anyone's ever read too."
Hermione gulped as she felt her heartbeat speed up to keep pace with the heat that was spreading through her body. She wasn't sure she was getting enough air and her throat was bone dry. "Books?" she croaked out.
Harry's laughter drained the flushed feeling down a pit in her stomach. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he pulled her back. "Sorry, I wasn't laughing at you. That was just- well, it was kind of cute," Harry said with grin and sparkling eyes.
"You're a lout," Hermione muttered, burying her face in his chest.
"I know." The grin was still audible in his voice as he rubbed her back with one hand, the other still wrapped warmly about her waist.
"You didn't tell me that just to tease me, did you?"
"Not if you want to try and help me figure this thing out."
"But you're my teacher."
"And you're far cleverer than I am. I'm only teaching you because I got an unfair head-start."
Oh, Harry. Hermione tilted her head up to press a kiss to Harry's jaw. "I'll do anything I can."
"Then it's only a matter of time until we figure this thing out," Harry said, sounding absolutely sure.
Hermione just breathed out and tried to burn the moment in her memory.
:-:-:-:-:
The day after Harry had shared his experiences with Hermione, the two were back in the Room of Requirement. For once their positions were reversed as Hermione took up position next to the chalkboard and looked at Harry expectantly.
Feeling a little amused at the way a familiar dynamic was slowly reasserting itself, Harry sat down at the desk and prepared for a lecture from his girlfriend.
"Right. I've done some reading on the subject of the fae this year. None of the books I found mentioned anything about their specific powers or what steps a human might follow to use those powers."
Harry nodded in understanding. He remembered his own search for any information on the fae. It had been scarce then and Hermione didn't have access to one of the richer sources of ridiculously obscure knowledge in the castle.
"I've also been reading a lot about learning magic, because-… well, because," Hermione trailed off uncomfortably.
Harry gave another nod that was at least part reassurance.
Hermione stood a little straighter in apparent relief that she wouldn't have to linger on exactly why she might need to read those kinds of books. "One of the things that almost every study guide mentions is the need for mental focus when performing magic. Some recommend visualisation, or meditation and awareness of your feelings or even just reciting mnemonics. Either way, I thought that you could start with finding the appropriate mindset?"
Harry hesitated for a moment. "That sounds like a good idea, but-"
"But?" Hermione interrupted with a nervous squeak.
Harry tried to keep his expression as gentle as possible. "But how do I know when I've reached the right state of mind."
"Oh," Hermione's expression brightened. "I thought that you might try to recreate one of the Oak King's spells or powers."
"Brilliant!" Harry said with a grin. "I knew you'd be the right person to get in on this!"
Hermione beamed at him. "I- thank you, Harry, but I haven't worked out exactly which ability you might be able to recreate. I was looking through my guides last night, but none of them mentioned anything that I could recommend."
Harry felt a creeping suspicion come over him. "When did you get to sleep last night?"
Hermione's eyes darted away from his and awkwardly fixed on the ceiling. "Oh. Um…"
Harry sighed. "You stayed up all night again, didn't you?"
"It's the weekend? And it was for a good cause!"
"I know, and I'm grateful, but you should try to get some rest while I practice. I don't expect to get this on the first go anyway."
"But-…"
Harry just cocked an eyebrow and waited to see if Hermione would actually come up with a counter-argument.
She was quiet for a long moment before slumping a little. "Fine. If I do fall asleep, you have to promise to wake me for lunch though."
"I promise."
"Okay," Hermione hesitated a moment longer. "Try to focus on something that happened right before the Oak King performed a spell. It might help you identify a trigger."
"I will. Now go relax." Harry waited for Hermione to take up position on a soft looking couch that had conveniently appeared behind her before moving himself to the floor and sitting down, legs crossed and eyes closed.
He did his best to follow Hermione's instructions but, not knowing what the Oak King's power was, Harry wasn't even sure what aspect to visualise. He tried to think of the time he had summoned the Oak King to heal Hermione's mind. He thought of the way the light had gathered around the tree to give the fae form in the material world.
Maybe that light is part of what I have to use?
Scrunching his eyes shut a little tighter Harry tried to imagine that same light forming around his body. Breathe.
In. Out.
In. Out. Just like Occlumency.
In. Out.
Harry had been focusing on his breathing for what felt like hours when he thought he felt his hair flutter. Opening a single eye he looked around the room. He caught Hermione staring at him from where she was lying on her side on the couch. "Did something just happen?"
"No. Why?" Hermione lifted her head and looked around as if to double check that she hadn't missed some minor alteration.
"There wasn't any kind of light around me?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. Is that the Oak King's power? What does the light do?" Curiosity rang clearly in her voice.
"Do?" Harry asked, a little surprised.
"Yes, of course," Hermione answered with a touch of impatience. "I mean, you weren't just trying to turn yourself into a nightlight, were you? What does the light do when the Oak King uses it?"
"I-… it's how he appears in our world." Harry knew the way Hermione was biting her lip. He knew what it meant. "Okay, what did I miss?"
"Well… I mean, I don't know what you were trying to accomplish, Harry, so I could be wrong, but… aren't you already in this world?"
Harry groaned quietly as he realised what she meant. "You think that this light might only be a part of the spell to move between the worlds?"
"I don't know, Harry. I've never seen it. Did it show up when the Oak King did anything else?"
"Yeah. Yeah it did."
"Okay, then how about you try to do whatever the Oak King was doing when that happened?"
"I-… it was when he was healing your mind, Hermione. I'm not sure that I could do that. If wizards had that kind of ability, then maybe I wouldn't have had to call a fae."
Hermione sniffed and turned her head. "Well, since I apparently can't know anything about that night, maybe you can describe some other occasion to me in more detail." Her voice carried just a touch of hoarseness with it and Harry realised that he had upset his girlfriend.
"I'm sorry, Hermione. I shouldn't have brought that up."
She nodded but still didn't look at him. "It's alright, Harry."
He felt the urge to keep apologising until she felt better, but couldn't remember that apologies from his friends had ever made him forget about what had happened. They had just made him feel like he'd be a prick if he held onto the grudge. I don't want to do that to Hermione. Best I can do now is get back to work so I'm not wasting her time on top of hurting her feelings.
Reluctantly, Harry closed his eyes again. He kept trying to materialise the glow for what felt like several more hours, though he didn't dare check his watch for fear that only a few minutes had passed. It was almost a relief to hear Hermione start pacing in the room with him. If even her prodigious patience was running out then he had probably been working on this for a prolonged period of time. With a bit of relief he opened his eyes.
"Hermione?"
She whirled around and locked her eyes onto his.
"How about we go get a cup of tea? I'm not getting anywhere with this right now. I've actually started contemplating the colour of my eyelids so I could do with a quick break to refresh."
Hermione hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "It wouldn't do to have you wear yourself out, no matter how much we need to figure this out." A small smile crept onto her face. "And yes, tea sounds lovely."
Harry felt his own lips move in an answering smile. "Brilliant!"
A small coffee table appeared in front of the couch Hermione had been resting on until she became restless. As they moved towards the couch a pair of cups appeared, steam already wafting off them.
"I have to admit, Harry, the service is impeccable."
"I'll let Kreacher know. He'll be delighted."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Just know that we're going to head down to dinner with the rest of the school. I don't feel right making extra work for someone when there is already a meal being prepared for us in the kitchens."
"Don't worry. I wanted to head down anyway." Harry met his girlfriend's eyes deliberately. "I think I should also tell Ron about this. I don't like lying to him and he knows more about the fae than we do anyway."
Hermione nodded slowly. "You're right," she admitted sounding reluctant.
"I thought that if we bring him up here we could ask for the same room we used for your birthday party," Harry said, hoping that he was reading the cause of Hermione's reluctance correctly. "Or maybe we could use the classroom we had the DA in last year."
"The room we used for my birthday sounds perfect," Hermione said, perking up. She happily grabbed her cup of tea, holding it close to her chest, contentedly enjoying the warmth radiating from it.
:-:-:-:-:
Not long after finishing their teas, Harry and Hermione left the Room to look for Ron. They found him walking into the Great Hall with Neville. The couple joined their friends for the meal, doing their best not to let on that there was anything out of the ordinary happening.
Just before the deserts were served, Ron leaned over and muttered "Harry, don't take any afters. I'll load up and take forever so that we can leave after everyone else and we can talk about whatever it is that's got your pants in a knot. You can eat from my plate so no one notices that I have more than I can really finish."
Harry looked at his mate in shock. "Is it that obvious?"
Ron managed a shrug as his hands shot out to pile a ludicrous amount of sweets on his plate. "We've been getting into trouble together for more than five years. It's a pattern at this point."
Harry shared a quick look with Hermione who was sitting on his other side and saw that she was looking faintly gobsmacked. He realised that she hadn't heard Ron's whisper and leaned down. "He's just creating an excuse. We're hanging back."
Hermione nodded, returning her focus to Neville's explanation of how lunar phases affected the growth and quality of certain commonly used herbs. The conversation ended up taking so long that even Ron was starting to look a little green and like he regretted his idea for a stalling tactic.
Before Harry could come up with a way of getting Ron somewhere they could have a private chat, McGonagall showed up at their table. "Mister Potter, if you have finished your dinner, the headmaster would like to see you at your earliest convenience."
"I'll head up right away, ma'am," Harry answered, hoping he didn't sound too disappointed. He gave Ron an apologetic clap on the shoulder, leaned over to kiss Hermione's cheek and stood up. McGonagall led him out of the Great Hall.
They had only gone down two corridors when she stopped and looked at him. "You already know the password to the Headmaster's office. Don't you?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry admitted, feeling oddly guilty.
"I should have guessed sooner," the Professor said with a sniff. "I'm warning you now, Potter: no madcap adventures without both of you visiting me first to explain their need."
"I'll let the Headmaster know, ma'am?" Harry said, hoping the promise was vague enough that he could claim that the older wizard had made him do it if they ended up heading out tonight.
McGonagall eyed him and snorted disbelievingly before marching off.
Please let this not get us into trouble, Harry thought to no one in particular.
He made his way to the gargoyle, up the staircase and knocked on the Headmaster's door.
"Harry. Good evening. How have you been feeling this past week?" Dumbledore asked gently when Harry opened the door and stepped inside.
Harry closed the door before crossing the office and flopping down into one of the chairs across from the headmaster's desk and sullenly eyeing the man behind it. "It's been a barrel of laughs," he grumbled.
Dumbledore just calmly kept looking at him.
"Fine!" Harry snapped, "this whole thing with the Oak King has been eating at me all week."
Dumbledore gave a slow nod. "I believe that would be the normal response. Has there been a specific matter that weighed on your mind or was this a more general sense of malaise and being overwhelmed?"
Harry shrugged. "Just overwhelmed in general, I guess."
"Understandably so, Harry. Very understandably so and the most pressing reason I felt I should call you in here. I would like to spend some time with you, discussing what happened last week so that you may hopefully get a handle on the situation you find yourself in. I thought we might perhaps start with an overview of the being you encountered first; the Oak King himself. Unless there is a starting point you would prefer?"
Harry shook his head as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "No. I've been trying to work out what the Oak King gave me, but I haven't had much luck yet." He couldn't contain a snort of sardonic amusement. "Apparently focusing on what the effects of his magic look like isn't a helpful approach."
Dumbledore chuckled and stroked his beard. "No, I would imagine not. You believe that the powers you were granted are the same as the ones the Oak King has demonstrated so far?"
"Maybe?"
"Well, it may yet prove a valuable hypothesis. It is certainly a starting point."
"But you don't really think that it will also be the end point," Harry guessed.
"I do not. Whatever was done to you or given to you, it was meant to support you in combat with a foe. Your relationship with the Oak King so far has been one of cooperation, or at least exchange, and not one of hostility. Unless you have angered him at some time that I am unaware of, I doubt that you would have been exposed to anything that he would use against an enemy."
Harry groaned out loud as his hand ran through his hair distractedly. "We didn't even think of that."
"We?" Dumbledore asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Harry cursed under his breath before meeting Dumbledore's eyes. "Hermione has been helping me try to figure this out."
"I see." Dumbledore steepled his fingers and gazed at a point on the ceiling for a while. "Miss Granger's intelligence and analytical mind will stand you in good stead while tackling this mystery," the old wizard murmured eventually. "Are you confident that you can keep her from uncovering more?"
No. "I think so. She's already pointed out that there's a chance that this 'Avatar of the Enemy' that the Oak King mentioned doesn't refer to Riddle."
"Quite." Dumbledore's voice was exceptionally neutral.
"Yes, I know that it's unlikely, but it's possible and without telling her the prophecy and what happened over Christmas, I couldn't very well explain to Hermione that I'm sure I don't suddenly have another magical powerhouse gunning for my head," Harry snapped, embarrassment and discomfort making his tone curt.
"Very well. And Mr. Weasley?"
"I was about to tell him when McGonagall told me to come here."
"Professor McGonagall, Harry."
"Professor McGonagall," Harry repeated impatiently.
Dumbledore shifted his gaze to the tips of his steepled fingers. "I will not lie: my first instinct is that we should tell as few people as possible what has happened. If this leaks out, far from deterring Tom, I suspect that it will galvanise him."
"Ron and Hermione can keep a secret," Harry defended his friends.
"Indeed. As I said, to keep it a secret would be my first instinct, but I have also told you that I cannot bear your burden for you. I will trust your decision in this, though I hope that you will accept an old man's advice to be sparing with your trust."
"Don't worry," Harry answered quickly, riding an upswell of relief that Dumbledore wasn't giving him a bollocking. "I wasn't planning to tell anyone except those two."
Dumbledore nodded. "Given the adventures you and Mr. Weasley have found yourself in over the years, I cannot help but fear for the heights you will reach with Miss Granger's inclusion." The twinkling of those old, blue eyes told Harry he was being teased.
"I think she'll fit in like she was a part of it all along," Harry grinned back, knowing he spoke more truth than Dumbledore could ever know.
Dumbledore coughed into his beard as his eyes twinkled. Harry considered calling the old man out on the clearly faked noise, but decided that he didn't want to put up with some nonsense about the joys of youth or whatever other headscratcher the headmaster would come up with.
"Ahem," Dumbledore coughed, ushering the levity to one side with that noise, "since you and Miss Granger have already been working on this matter, perhaps it might actually be better if you would give me a quick overview of what you've already tried and the results of your experimentation. If nothing else it will keep us from retreading well-worn ground."
Harry nodded slowly, gathering his thoughts. "Well, for the most part I've been meditating while Hermione looks up possible references to fae magic. We were hoping that either I would feel something within me or she would read something that could point us in the right direction."
"Playing to both of your considerable talents; an excellent strategy."
"Not one that's working so far," Harry said. "I've not been able to feel so much as a twinge and Hermione is starting to understand what I meant when I told her that we'd have to raid your personal library for even a hint of what this might be. Hermione was the one who came up with the idea that I should try to think about the times that I've met the Oak King and try to replicate anything I could remember about his magic."
Dumbledore nodded. "A worthy starting point. I believe that between the two of you, you have come up with an excellent approach already."
"But you still have some suggestions," Harry said with snort.
"The joy and duty of age is passing on wisdom to the young," Dumbledore said with a serene smile.
Harry wished he had something that he could bounce off the old man's head without inflicting injury. Instead he sat back and cocked an expectant eyebrow.
"Very well. I have already mentioned that I do not think that you have seen much of the Oak King's more martial abilities. I propose that you might find a clue if you consider the Enemy towards whom he would turn those abilities."
"You mean that whatever this is, it is going to be something that can beat the Holly King!" Harry exclaimed, almost leaping out of his chair with joy at the notion that he had any kind of hint at all.
"Perhaps not necessarily something that will grant you victory in every situation," Dumbledore demurred. "From what I remember reading earlier this year, the Oak King and the Holly King defeat each other in equal measure, ushering in the seasons we know in our world."
"Point," Harry agreed, feeling his enthusiasm dim.
"I do think that whatever ability or weapon you have been granted to take into battle against the Holly King's avatar will be related to the way the powers of these two fae are opposed."
"That would be more helpful if we were sure about the powers the Holly King gave Riddle."
"I cannot help but notice that you refrained from calling my insight entirely useless."
"Yeah, yeah. You're probably right. It's got something to do with summer. Or maybe spring depending on what actually ends the winter."
Dumbledore beamed out a proud smile. "Exactly, Harry. I had not yet considered the nuance of what separates spring and summer. Very well done."
"Thank you, sir. I'll make sure to mention it to Hermione and we'll get on it right away," Harry said excitedly as he got up.
"A moment more, my boy, if you would," Dumbledore said raising his hand in a calming gesture.
"You have more ideas, sir?" Harry asked, sinking back into the chair.
"Not quite. I have a request."
Harry felt the bottom drop out off his stomach. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"
"I would like you to approach the Grey Lady. After our last encounter she has avoided me and every summons I have sent for her. I had hoped that you might have better luck."
"I was right," Harry grumbled. "After what we did to her last time, why should she want to talk to me anymore than to you?"
"Because you did not harm her," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers. "In fact, you looked appropriately horrified at the time. You even protested her treatment outright where several paintings she knows well could see you do it."
Harry felt like his jaw was swinging loosely from his skull and pulled it shut. "I hate it when you do that," he snapped. "You were never trying to keep me from coming with you that night, were you?"
"I apologise, Harry. Unfortunately, for this reserve strategy to have any worth, I needed your honest and unprepared reaction."
"I can see why you needed it," Harry said curtly. "I still hate it."
Dumbledore inclined his head. "That is truly unfortunate. Will you still accept my request?"
Harry was very tempted to just tell the old man to get lost, all the joy he'd felt at his teacher's earlier guidance having disappeared in the face of this newest manipulation. Throwing a fit is only going to help Riddle. It's the last one we have to find, assuming the snake's wherever he is. Looking at this logically, I have to do this. "Fine."
"Thank you, my boy."
"Stuff it," Harry growled. "I'm definitely going to find a way to make McGonagall think you asked me to do something dangerous."
"Harry, you wouldn't." Dumbledore actually sounded nervous.
Rather than respond, Harry marched out of the office. Just before he closed the door he heard a louder "Harry?!" but ignored that too.
He took a long detour back to Gryffindor Tower, but didn't see the Grey Lady anywhere.
:-:-:-:-:
The next morning, Harry dragged Ron out of bed several hours before classes started. It took a while for his best mate to stop cursing under his breath, but the promise of a full explanation managed to get him moving. Harry led his best friend up to the Room, which took the form it had for Hermione's birthday. Even though she wasn't there, Harry found that he wanted to do this small thing for her. It also helped that Ron would probably feel less comfortable in anything that resembled a classroom too strongly.
"So? What is it this year?" Ron asked when they had seated themselves. "Monster? Maniac? Defence Professor? Please tell me we have to off Snape."
Harry couldn't stop a snigger at that last comment. "Sorry, mate. The answer starts with the fae."
Ron's face visibly paled. "What is it this time? Was there a catch in your deal?"
"Not quite. A week ago, the Oak King sent the centaurs to summon me into the Forest."
"Bloody Hell! You went?"
"Pretty much had to, didn't I. Hacking off something with powers I don't understand sounds like a bad plan."
Ron scratched at his wrist nervously. "Okay. So a fae called you to a meeting. How fucked are we?"
"You personally? Not at all."
"Harry," Ron growled out, his face dropping into a scowl.
"Fine. Just hang on 'til I'm done, alright?" With that, Harry told Ron the entire story.
By the end of it Ron was shaking his head in disbelief. "I swear, mate, no one has your bloody luck."
"Yeah, well, all we can really do about it now is to try and figure out what's actually landed in my lap before Riddle comes knocking."
"Merlin's saggy Y-fronts. Anything I can do to help?"
"Just tell me if you come up with anything."
"With Dumbledore and Herms already giving it everything they've got?" Ron asked with a snort.
Harry couldn't help but grin in return. "Point."
"Anything practical I can help you with?"
"Not unless you know where the Grey Lady might be hanging about."
Ron gave Harry an odd look.
"Hey, I know it's weird, but I really do need to talk to her."
Ron shook his head. "You know, I think I'm starting to miss the days when we just had to face off against possessed teachers and madcap chess sets."
Harry shot his friend a grin. "Yeah. Simpler times."
"As it happens, I have seen the Grey Lady a few times while I was patrolling. She's been hanging around on this floor, on the eastern side of the castle."
"Really?!" Harry couldn't believe his luck.
"Yeah. Want me to talk to her for you?"
Harry hesitated. "Sorry, Ron. I'll have to do this myself."
Ron nodded glumly. "Have you told Hermione?"
"About the fae stuff? Yeah."
"And the ghost stuff?"
"What? No. It hasn't come up." Harry said, feeling a little confused about the matter.
Ron smiled a little sheepishly. "Sorry. I just- I was feeling a little left out and- you know what? Doesn't matter. I have a patrol on Friday. I can make sure that Lav and I start on the route that crosses this floor. It'll give you a chance to sneak out behind us and say your bit to the Lady."
Harry dithered for a moment, wondering whether he should risk trying to find the Grey Lady sooner. No. No, Dumbledore said that we don't have time to waste hurrying. I should take the time to figure out what I'm going to say to her instead. "Thanks, mate. That'd really help," he said at last, hoping the pause hadn't made it awkward.
Ron's happy grin and shoulder-clap certainly seemed to suggest that any tension had released. "C'mon then. Let's get some breakfast. Can't face the forces of evil and the afterlife on an empty stomach, can we?"
Harry just slung an arm over his mate's shoulders and joined him in heading down to their first meal of the day.
:-:-:-:-:
That Friday, Harry 'went to bed early'. He had already told Hermione that he would be working on something for Dumbledore that night and it had meant more to him than he could properly explain that she had reigned in her curiosity with visible effort and simply agreed that they could move their lesson to Sunday, just in case his assignment took longer than expected. Harry didn't think that this conversation would take quite that long, but appreciated the gesture.
Up in the dorm he closed the hangings around his bed and dug his invisibility cloak out of his trunk. Pulling it over his head, he sat down next to the bed and waited.
Thankfully, Ron didn't keep him waiting too long. A few minutes after Harry, he came up and rummaged loudly through his trunk without taking anything. When he had made noise for a few seconds, Ron stood back up and looked around the room uncertainly.
Harry got up and moved over next to his friend, deliberately kicking the trunk on the way past.
The thump, caused by absolutely nothing he could see, seemed to put Ron at ease. The redhead left the dorm, leaving the door open and heading down the stairs at a deliberately leisurely pace. Once he reached the common room, Ron took a path to where Lavender was sitting that avoided any crowded spots. "Hey babe. Ready for our patrol?"
Lavender looked up at him and smiled. "I don't know. What do I get out of it?" she asked with a flirtatious smile.
"You'll have to come with me to find out," Ron answered, his ears already red.
Under the invisibility cloak Harry was grinning like a lunatic at his friend's discomfort. He followed the couple out the portrait hole and began hanging back almost immediately in an effort to give Ron some privacy. Once the two prefects had disappeared around the corner, Harry crept after them.
He kept his eyes open for any sign of a silvery sheen. He passed several paintings and statues that were just settling back down, apparently disturbed by Ron and Lavender's earlier passing. Got to remember that for a future ribbing Harry thought to himself, trying not to snicker. "So what were you and Lavender doing that got a bunch of old paintings huffy?" I wonder how red his ears will get.
Caught up in his amusement at Ron's future embarrassment, Harry didn't notice that a ghost had drifted out of the wall in front of him until he nearly stepped through it. He jumped back with a gasp before realising that the target of his search was now eyeing the space he had just been with a mistrustful look upon her face. "Who goes there?" the Grey Lady demanded.
"A student. I came here looking for you," Harry said, trying to sound non-threatening as he pulled the invisibility cloak off and held up his hands.
"What are you doing here?" Even on her translucent face, the Grey Lady's scowl was clearly visible.
Guess she doesn't want me here. No real surprise is it? Harry took a deep breath. "I came to apologise."
"Apologise?" the ghost scoffed. "You came to compel me, to take by force what I had no wish to give… and now you would have me believe that you would make amends?"
"It's… I just thought one of us should say sorry for what we put you through."
The Grey Lady turned up her nose at him. "And you think that your apology has worth?"
"It's all I've got," Harry admitted, sitting down and leaning back against the wall. "Look, I know that you might have some kind of information we need awfully badly. I know that a lot of people could die if you don't tell us. I also know that when I was faced with the same choice, I wasn't exactly falling all over myself to tell Dumbledore everything I knew. So, yeah, I know at least a little of what you struggled with. In hindsight, Dumbledore probably used legilimency to get what he wanted without me even noticing, so it didn't hurt, but still…"
"And what did you hide from your headmaster?" the Grey Lady asked, sounding interested despite herself. She was floating closer than she had been and her expression was a little less antagonistic.
"Back in my second year I didn't want to tell Dumbledore that I'd been hearing a voice all over the school that wanted to rip and tear and kill… a voice that turned out to be Slytherin's basilisk."
"You are the one that slew Salazar's basilisk," the ghost murmured in awe. Then her eyes turned flinty. "And now you seek Ravenclaw's treasure."
"Probably?" Harry asked more than said.
"You didn't know?" the ghost asked sceptically.
Harry shrugged at her, trying to bite back his frustration. "If you know how to make Dumbledore give you a straight answer, I'd be happy to learn that trick."
"You must have had some idea…"
"I knew we were probably looking for something that had once belonged to one of the founders. It could have been any of the four, though we thought it was likely to be Ravenclaw or Gryffindor since we already know about the ones Riddle took from Slytherin and Hufflepuff."
"And I have just confirmed for you that the thing you seek once belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw?"
Harry thought it over for a moment. "I guess, if I'm honest, you really only confirmed that Dumbledore thinks that. I jumped the rest of the way to that conclusion on my own."
The Grey Lady studied him for a moment and then swooped down to hover over the floor next to him in a seated position. "You are a strange one."
"Yeah, people keep telling me," Harry sighed. "No one will tell me why I'm strange though."
His ghostly companion shot him a mysterious smile. "I imagine they would not. It would likely ruin you for the rest of us."
"Huh?"
This time the ghost let out a musical laugh.
"Oh, whatever," Harry huffed. "There's a reason I wasn't sorted in with the brainy kids and at least you're having fun."
"Is it my sin that you are an amusing youngster?" she asked, batting her silvery eye-lids at him.
Harry dropped his head back against the wall and shot her a small smile. "You know, you ghost girls are really flirty sometimes. At least you're not like Myrtle. She showed up while I was in the bath once and pretty well told me she ogles us in there all the time."
"She did not!" the Grey Lady exclaimed, scandalised.
Judging by the way she's smirking, I don't think she's completely surprised. "Yeah, and now I've got you batting your eyelashes at me."
"Hmm, you will have to be careful of my suitor."
"You have a boyfriend?"
Judging by the way her face closed off, Harry guessed that he might have struck a nerve… or whatever ghosts had that allowed them to feel things. "I have never had a paramour, only one who was obsessed with obtaining that title."
"At the risk of cursing myself in the foot: sounds like that didn't go too well."
The Grey Lady gave him a look.
"Hey, I'm not judging," Harry protested, raising his hands in surrender. "I can't figure out relationships for the life of me. I got lucky to find the one girl who doesn't drool over the idea that I'm the Boy Who Lived. I never understood why the rest of them thought that we could work something out when the only thing they can talk about is my dead parents." Half expecting a response, or at least some commiseration, he looked over at the ghost next to him to find her with her knees pulled up under her chin.
"The one who pursued me… he also did so because of who my mother was," she whispered, not meeting his gaze.
"Damn," Harry muttered, looking away so she could regain some composure. "That's terrible. I know I'm probably a bit late with this, but he was a prick."
"He still is," the Grey Lady said sadly. She looked up and gave Harry a pained smile. "You know him as the Bloody Baron."
Harry's mouth opened and closed a couple times as he tried to find the words. "Never liked him anyways," he huffed in the end. He was rewarded with another reluctant chuckle. "Still that's got to be horrid… having him haunt the place you chose, I mean."
"He always was persistent; to the point of destruction of the object of his obsession."
Harry didn't think she'd meant to say that last bit out loud. "Those stains-… no, sorry. That was insensitive of me."
"Insensitive, but understandable, young one," the Ravenclaw ghost sighed. "He makes such a point of his stains that many who pass through these halls are left to wonder. It is my blood on his coat as you have surmised."
Harry was quiet for a moment as he tried to work his way through that. "You remember when I said he was a prick before? I was wrong. He's worse than that. What kind of… how could he do that?!"
"As I said: he was obsessed; consumed by his desire to have me. Or I might be wrong and he desired nothing more than the treasure I had stolen from my mother."
"You really think he would do that?" Harry asked.
"I do not know," the ghost admitted. "He was ever vain and ambitious, Salazar's first disciple, reckoned by both time and favour, but he has maintained that he wished only for my hand all these past centuries."
Harry let out a low whistle. "Are all the house ghosts students of the founders? Did you know Rowena Ravenclaw?"
"We are not. I remember both Sir Nicholas and the Friar coming through these halls. They are some five-hundred years younger than the Baron and myself."
"Wow," Harry breathed out. "Was it weird, having them come here and haunt the school?"
"You really are strange," the Grey Lady laughed. "Why do you choose to ask that?"
"I dunno," Harry admitted awkwardly. "Because you're really interesting to talk to? Besides, how often will I get a chance to ask something like that?"
"Nicholas may become jealous if I speak to you though."
"Tell you what, I'll ignore the Baron and you ignore Nick. That should do the trick right?" Harry suggested sardonically.
The Grey Lady looked like she couldn't quite believe he'd just said that. She turned her head to look out of the window and Harry was kicking himself for putting his foot in his mouth like that. He was trying to figure out the best way to recover from his faux-pas when she spoke up. "Will you hear my story, young one?"
"I'd love to hear anything you'll tell me," Harry replied, trying to project that he honestly meant what he said.
"Long ago, when this castle was newly built and the founders still taught here, I attended this school. That I would was determined from the moment the school was founded because- because my mother was Rowena Ravenclaw." It was said in a rush, as if the ghost couldn't bear having the words on her tongue longer than necessary.
"What's your name?" Harry asked quietly. "Your first name, I mean."
The Grey Lady turned her haunted eyes back to him. "Helena. In life I was Helena Ravenclaw."
"It's nice to meet you, Helena," Harry said with a smile. "I'm Harry Potter."
A smile pulled at Helena's lips despite the twitch not changing the cast of her expression from melancholic. "The pleasure of our meeting is mine, Harry Potter," she murmured before continuing on. "It was… difficult for me, attending the school where my mother taught. She was already widely renowned for her wisdom and all and sundry expected that I should be no different. I was a constant disappointment to those who met me. Never quite as brilliant, as dazzling, as my mother."
"When I was seventeen I resolved that I would be so slighted no longer. I stole my mother's diadem." Helena looked expectantly at Harry.
"Sorry, I'm about to prove why I wasn't sorted into your house again. Why was your mum's diadem special?"
"It was a tool she had developed. She enchanted a gift from my father so it might stimulate the mind and quicken the spirit. If a dullard wore it, he would find himself nearly her equal; and I was no dullard."
Harry gave a low whistle. "That's one hell of an enchantment. She must have been as brilliant as everyone says."
"She was." Helena fell silent for a moment and Harry was loath to push her for more than she'd already told him. "After I had taken what I should not have, I fled. First across the Channel to the county of Flanders and from there, through the duchies of Lothringia and Swabia, I headed south and east. There was great strife in Europe at that time. I was able to follow the armies of King Otto of the Franks all the way to Bavaria until they met some Magyar in battle."
"Using illusions I had learnt in this very castle, I stole past the battle lines and struck out the way the Magyar had come. They had left a devastation in their wake like none I had ever seen before and for days I could barely eat as all the game had been chased from the forest and the plants trampled underfoot. I durst not drink from streams for few enough had I encountered that did not have dead men floating in them and I could not trust the others that there would not be dead bodies floating out of sight."
"A day after I passed the battle lines, I spent hours hiding beneath a bramble as a column of Magyar fled back to their homeland across the Tuonowe. Once they had passed I followed their trail as far as Vienna, before turning south into the Marches of Carinthia. There I was far more easily able to find sustenance, though the Marcher Lords looked upon me in suspicion. It became clear to me that strangers ought not expect a warm welcome in Lombardy where King Otto's wife, Queen Adelaide dwelt. So I struck out through Istria. Though my journey was difficult, I was filled with pride when I saw the Adria, or the Jardan as the locals called it. I had come far and overcome all that had been thrown in my path."
"Yeah… yeah, that's… wow," Harry said, having some trouble focusing on the here and now as his imagination was caught up with the idea of vast columns of knights riding off to battle and one canny young witch sneaking past all of them.
A hint of pride crept into Helena's expression. "Quite. I continued down the Dalmatian coast until I reached Dyrrachium where I heard of the shining capital of the Roman Empire that stood still further to the East. I wished to see this place, called a centre of learning, which resisted all influence from those claiming to be successors to its parent state. Unfortunately, it was in the forests outside Dyrrachium that my suitor found me. I had barely the time to divest myself of my mother's diadem, hiding it away before he was upon me. He told me of my mother's death and demanded that I should return with him. I refused."
Helena swallowed audibly. "I knew he had a black rage in him, but I never saw his choler rise as swiftly as it did that day. He had heard my refusal before, but this would be the last time I denied him. In the grip of his fury he struck me down, only to follow me into death when the passing of hours had cooled his head enough for reason to reassert itself."
Harry extended his hand and, hesitating only slightly to brace himself for the coming feeling, placed it on her shoulder. "That is one of the saddest stories I've ever heard."
Helena wiped delicately at her eyes. When she turned to face Harry he could see nothing but determination there. "I have told this story only once before. It was a boy about the same age as you at the time. He was solicitous and wholly more debonair than yourself." The last was added with a light in her eyes that let Harry know he was being teased.
"Alright, alright. No need to rub it in," Harry teased right back.
Helena smiled at him. "It taught me a lesson. Better to seek one who is honest in his care, than one who speaks with a silver tongue. This other to whom I spoke… he went to where I perished. In a desire to impress upon him that I was no less clever than my mother I had even told him where I had hidden her treasure. Years later he returned to this castle and he… he had defiled it! My mother's greatest work, made anathema and abomination to soothe a madman's insecurities!"
Harry drew back a little as Helena's ghostly hair lifted away from her shoulders and began to dance in the air around her like there was an electric current running through it.
Helena seemed to be fighting to regain some control. "If- if you find this treasure, what will you do with it?" she demanded.
Harry considered telling her he would cleanse it, but he had no way of knowing if that was in any way possible. "If I find it, I will do my best to destroy it," he admitted instead, not wanting to lie to someone who had clearly been fed enough of that during her life and after. "I can't leave an immortal Riddle to ravage the world and I have no idea for how could possibly stop him and keep your mother's diadem intact."
Helena nodded and rose into the air. She began drifting up towards the towers. Harry tried to figure out anything he could call out to bring her back, but nothing came to mind.
As she drifted into a beam of moonlight that made her almost invisible to Harry's eyes, Helena's voice drifted over to him. "The room that comes and goes. That is where I saw him leave Mother's diadem."
Before Harry could get his mouth to form a 'thank you', Helena's form shot up and away through the ceiling in a streak of silver. He stayed there a while longer, staring at where the haunted spirit had disappeared from sight. "Thank you, Helena," he said quietly, knowing he would have to repeat himself when she was around to hear.
The Room that Comes and Goes… I've been training right next to one of the damn things all year.
I've been teaching Hermione there. That's going to end. Harry was sorely tempted to just run up to the Room of Requirements and begin searching for the horcrux he was now sure was hidden there. The only thing that stopped him was the awareness, born from his encounters with the other three so far, that it would be a suicidally stupid idea to go after a horcrux when he was tired. Tomorrow. I'm getting rid of that thing tomorrow.
AN:
Isn't it great to remember that the nation-state is a relatively new invention and that it was far more common in the middle ages for people to consider themselves part of a duchy or a county than of a country? For my readers who aren't as familiar with European geography: Helen crossed the Channel into Belgium, traveled through north-east France and southern Germany, swung around the Alps in Austria and then down the eastern coast of the Adriatic Sea until she reached Albania.
King Otto (a.k.a. Otto the Great) was the first Holy Roman Emperor (though at the time Helen's describing he would have been the Duke of Saxony and 'king' meant rather less than it did when he died. He was the Primes inter Pares, 'first among equals' and only nominally outranked the other East Frankish Dukes; something they didn't really let him forget until he basically conquered them a few times). The campaign Helen followed would have culminated in the Battle of Lechfeld in 955.
Magyar are called Hungarians today (they still call themselves Magyarok).
Lothrinigia is more or less Lorraine and the Alsace (it used to be the third kingdom that Charlemagne left his sons, but hadn't really been independent since about 870. The first king of Lotharingia was Lothair II, which is where it gets its name and Loraine gets its name in turn. If you're wondering how the first king of a place can be called Lothair II, remember that all it really means is that he's the second Lothair in a noble family. Their ascension to the title of king first happened with Lothair's grandfather, Pepin the Short).
Tuonowe is the Middle High German name for the Danube. Middle High German was spoken from around 1050, which is a century after the story Helen is telling, but it's really hard to find the appropriate name in Middle German and this was as close as I got.
Carinthia was a duchy that contained parts of Austria, Italy and Slovenia. Like I said: modern kingdoms and countries just weren't a thing back then.
Adria is a Latin name for the Adriatic Sea and 'Jardan' is a name in Serbo-Croatian for the same body of water. Helen would have been standing near Trieste when she saw it as Istria was around there. These days Istria is the name of a region in Croatia.
Dyraccheum is called Durres these days and would have been part of the Eastern Roman Empire at the time (a.k.a. the Byzantine Empire, even if they never called it that themselves), though it is now the second most populous city in Albania. The capital of the Roman Empire that Helen mentions is, as you may have guessed, Constantinople, and it really was quite famous for its scholarship (having basically every surviving copy of Plato, Aristotle and Euclid among others in their libraries).