Four years ago

"KILL THE BOY! HE IS RIGHT BEHIND YOU — SMELL HIM!"

As the massive beast was coiling around the room, hitting pillars and sending pieces of rock flying everywhere, Harry was already moving. Dodging the basilisk, he could see its ruined eyes that he'd cursed just moments ago, and also the venomous fangs that were as long as his arms.

The basilisk moved its head left and right, flicking its tongue — then it lunged blindly but accurately toward his position.

While he was jumping to the side, Harry raised the jagged torch holder he'd picked up from the rubble earlier before to pierce the roof of the basilisk's opened mouth.

"JUST KILL HIM!" Riddle's voice echoed strangely through the Chamber.

It was too late but the command made the basilisk twist its head sideways and away from Harry — which caused the ancient piece of iron to snap off the handle. At the same time, he felt pure agony in his right arm as it was pierced by one of the massive fangs. Being thrown around by the death throws of the basilisk, he heard his arm break and cried out in pain.

Then it was over and the beast moved no more.

With a groan, Harry crawled up from halfway under the basilisk's head, crying out again as he was forced to turn around his broken arm. It was still trapped by the fang and the agonizing pain that spread through his upper body was the venom that would kill him very soon.

His vision became blurry and everything suddenly had a reddish hue because his eyes were bleeding.

A dark shadow appeared in front of him. "So ends the great Harry Potter. You're dead, you just don't know it yet, boy." Tom Riddle smiled evilly.

As his heartbeat slowed down, Harry thought that dying maybe wasn't so bad after all as the pain seemed to diminish and his thoughts became slow and sluggish. The only thing he was sad about was his loneliness. But Ron was somewhere far behind him, separated from him by a pile of rocks. Ginny was still unconscious.

Hermione couldn't help him at all.

There was no one else here in the darkness, other than the evil.

Harry had wanted to say something to Hermione the last time he'd visited her petrified form but it was too late now anyway.

"There you go, son of a Mudblood. Lord Voldemorts gets his due in the end, as he always does."

Opening his eyes for the last time, Harry focused on his mortal enemy with some effort. He tried to move his tongue for a final one-liner about talking about oneself in the third person but noticed that he lacked the strength to do so. He also realized that his fist inside the basilisk's mouth was still clutching the broken grip of the torch holder.

What a curious thing, Harry thought as his mind began to drift away.

At that moment, something happened.

A huge bolt of bright energy arced from the roof of the Chamber of Secrets into the basilisk's head and down to the floor. Riddle screamed as part of it branched out to touch the old diary.

Harry thought that the energy was very pretty and didn't look like lightning but —

"Everything is all right, Ginny," said Harry as he was holding up the ruined diary to show her the fang hole. "Riddle's gone. Him and the basilisk. Look!"

The girl cried as he tried to help her to her feet. "I.. I... this is so bad. I wanted to come here ever since Bill finished his NEWTs... what if I have to leave now? That will Mum say?"

Harry awkwardly assured her that it was going to be fine as he half-carried and half-dragged her toward the entrance.

Fighting a millennia-old basilisk and the undead shade of Tom Riddle hadn't been half as scary as having a crying girl in his arms.

"It's going to be fine, let's just get out of here."

Fawkes was waiting for them there, lazily circling in the air and leaving faint glowing trails.

As they left the Chamber of Secrets, the ancient doors closed behind the three of them with a loud rumble and a slight hiss.

To Harry, it felt not only as if he'd survived yet another impossible adventure but that something monumental had happened.

Now

"I'm sorry for... "

"Don't mention it."

"But... "

"No buts but your own butt! Really, it's okay."

"If you say so."

"I did. And I do."

She smiled. "Okay."

Harry continued to clean himself up, his fingers still slightly shaking.

Hermione had held him for a long, long while before he was calm down enough to attempt a real conversation.

They were in the small kitchen now, making a pot of tea after Harry's produced a pack of premium black leaves from a backpack Hermione'd never seen before. Another question or two to be added to her increasingly long list.

She looked at Harry when she felt his hand on her arm, a light touch.

He flinched as if caught in a crime and removed his hand immediately. "Sorry! Sorry. I just... you... it's so unreal."

She smiled again, a bit more strained this time. "Harry, I'm trying to be patient here and let you breathe. But... "

He sniffed and gave her a weak smile of his own. "No buts, remember?"

"Harry... "

"I know. Give me a moment here, Hermione. I'm not avoiding you, I just... "

He left the sentence hanging and she didn't feel the need to add anything further.

She watched Harry put his slightly wet tissue away to pour hot water into the teapot and breathed in the assuring earthy aroma that spread in the kitchen. The domestic activity was strangely calming because normally, everything in Hogwarts was served ready for consumption.

It seemed to calm Harry as well because his fingers had stopped shaking as he prepared a tray for them to take into the window nook.

They went there in silence, the only sounds coming from Harry's bare feet on the floor and Hermione's shoes. It made her feel overdressed despite the cold winter weather outside and she kicked them off before sitting down in the alcove. It was warm enough since she'd lit the fireplace.

Harry was staring at his folded hands, seemingly searching for words.

"I'm not expecting an official speech, Harry. It's just the two of us. Say what's on your mind."

He nodded. "Okay."

Another silence followed.

Then, Harry raised his eyes to meet hers.

"When you came in, I thought... that you weren't real. That you were a memory, a figment of my imagination." He swallowed. "So when you grabbed my arm, I realized you were really here, and that was... hard to accept. To process."

"Why?" She had a pretty good idea why but she wanted to hear him say it.

"Because I've been stuck in this day since... forever, really."

He looked at his hands again, then at her.

Hermione had seen Harry being in pain and even though his mask was good, he'd never been able to fool her. The hurt she could see in his eyes now gave made her stomach churn. Harry had never looked at her like this.

Or anyone, assumingly.

His eyes were haunted. The eyes of a... a survivor.

She remembered several documentaries she'd watched back home with her dad about prisoners and war veterans and concentration camp survivors. Harry's eyes reminded her of the looks those people had on the telly — someone who's seen hell.

"What happened?" she whispered.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Really. I just keep waking up on this day over and over and over again and... yeah."

"For how long, Harry?"

His gaze became even more intense. "I lost count. Some part of me thinks it must be hundreds, no, many thousands of times by now. I've probably been here for years. But I wouldn't be able to even guess a number."

Her heart, already feeling for him and his pain — her own worries pushed aside for the moment — almost broke.

She scooted over and enveloped him in another fierce hug.

"I am so sorry, Harry."

He hugged her back, his breath ragged again. "I... thank you."

She held Harry until his chest expanded and contracted in a regular rhythm again.

After they untangled themselves from each other, Hermione poured two mugs of tea just to occupy herself for a moment.

She felt so strange right now... happy to have found Harry, worried or even angry at him for being trapped in such a mess, nervous about the intimacy because they'd not been close in recent weeks or months.

Well, her weeks and months.

Did Harry even remember what had been going on before the loop?

"Hermione?"

She looked up to find him piercing her with his eyes. "Yes?"

"Why are you here?"

"I was looking for you."

"I know, you told me. But... " He took a deep breath. "I remember you coming her only once before since all of this started. You were always so... busy."

There was a strange emotion flashing across Harry's face but she couldn't decipher it.

She felt the muscles in her own cheeks tighten at that remark because it was so very true and only now did Hermione find her behavior prior to the loop dilemma to be... lacking.

"I... "

Harry held up a hand. "I'm not accusing you of anything, Hermione. Usually, there's a good reason for everything you do or say, and I don't even remember our last 'real' conversation before I got trapped in time."

Hermione swallowed her reply, not entirely happy with his line of thought but unable to add anything constructive.

"I've kept to myself for a long while now. Meeting other people in the castle is... difficult. It's draining. It's why I often get out of here after waking up." Harry was staring into his tea. "In some loops, things change. Sometimes on their own, often when I do something. But I hadn't had a visitor from here since... well." He turned back to her. "Other than my Ghosts of Christmas Past, that is."

She had never heard Harry paraphrase Dickens before.

How long would it have taken him inside the loop before he ended up reading 'A Christmas Carol'?

Hermione found she might not want to pursue that particular line of thought.

She liked Harry, loved him even, but a literary enthusiast he was not.

Or rather he hadn't been.

How do I keep up with... this? she thought.

"It happened... Merlin, who knows really how long into... you know. People started to appear to me. You, Ron, Dumbledore, Sirius, Hagrid, even Ginny... " Harry sighed. "It became my new normal I guess?"

"You said I hadn't visited you in a long time," Hermione added. She had noticed his emphasis on Ginny as well as her being merely an afterthought, which was strange, to say the least.

He nodded. "I don't know why that is. Was."

She turned her hot mug in her hands. "I'm here, Harry."

"Yeah, but not for long — this day will eventually end." He gave her his trademark lopsided smile. "Though I have to say that you're taking this remarkably well."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Maybe you remember how I mentioned earlier that it was a long story of how I came to be here?"

"I only remember that you hugged me." Harry smiled fully now at the fresh memory. "You saved me, again. I haven't had someone real in here since, well, yesterday I guess?"

She huffed. "No need to become melodramatic, Harry."

"Hey, I'm a time traveler. Or a prisoner, really. Drama is all I can hope for. Also, you screamed at me. Twice!"

Her eyes narrowed at him and he had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Really? Does the bottle of Odgen's ring a bell?"

"Yes, but... "

"What, Harry?"

He shrugged. "So I drink to get through my day. What of it? It's not as if there's any lasting damage. My time-looping liver is still pristine if you're worried about my physical health."

"That's not the point, Harry!"

She couldn't believe how he was so… blasé about drinking alcohol.

"No, probably not. But since you already apologized for screaming at me and also banished my whisky I don't see how arguing the merits of staying a sober schoolboy adds anything to this chat of ours." Apparently, he'd decided to not give in to her on this. "So, that long story — I've got time. All the time."

They would talk about this later, Hermione decided.

One battle at a time.

Now it was her term to sigh. "Well."

She wanted to drop everything onto him, but she was at a loss for words too.

Knowing that he had experienced all of these frustrating time loops helped her — made her delighted even! To have found a comrade in arms, a person she could really share her predicament with, was a blessing she'd never expected to receive.

And for this person to be Harry of all people was... how had he said it?

It was unreal.

But words still failed her.

Harry looked at her expectantly as he carefully sipped his hot tea.

Discarding her elaborate preplanned line of sentences about prior events Hermione just went for it. "Apparently, I'm trapped in this loop as well, Harry. This is the sixth time I've experienced this particular day."

His cup was suddenly shaking and his left eye twitched ever so slightly.

"What did you just say?"

"I'm here, with you, Harry. Trapped in this loop. I won't forget that this conversation happened come tomorrow morning. Whatever this is, it affects both of us now."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Harry's mug was flying across the Room of Requirement as he jumped out of the window nook. It shattered on impact with the floor, spraying tea everywhere.

"HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID, HERMIONE?"

His outbreak had her completely flabbergasted. "Harry... I... "

But he was having none of it. His face was pure rage now, hands clenched into tight fists. "TAKE THAT BACK! YOU CAN'T BE HERE! IT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

He was pulling his black hair as she just stared at him. "FUUUCK!"

Four hours earlier

The only sound in the Headmaster's semi-dark office was the constant whirring of his little devices that drowned out even the silent clicking of his clock.

Suddenly, a silvery light appeared in the air in front of the massive desk.

It was shaped like a phoenix.

Seeing that the chair behind the desk was empty, the Patronus circled once through the empty office before landing on Fawke's stand.

It looked decidedly unhappy.

Albus wasn't around, but magic told it that he was, so it had come here.

But he wasn't.

It didn't understand.

It only knew it had failed at its task — Saul Croaker hadn't been at his office.

Or anywhere in reach, really.

But without Dumbledor's presence to sustain it beyond the original command...

... the Patronus just faded and the office was cloaked in semi-darkness once more.

In one of the portraits behind the Headmaster's desk though, a man with a large, black wizard's cap had observed the Patronus' fading. His brows were furrowed in concentration as his personality's magical imprint dissected this event, Albus' earlier words, and all the things implied by that.

He looked around, but most of his 'colleagues' were dozing in their frames. Some portraits were empty because their inhabitants had gone to visit people in other paintings in Hogwarts or elsewhere.

None of them would agree with him anyway.

But he would be damned if he'd let Hogwarts fall into a time loop and never escape from it.

As silently as the Patronus had done before the man vanished from his canvas to go somewhere else.

Three hours later

As another wave of noxious pink fumes enveloped her, Hannah Abbott coughed as quietly as she could.

Drawing attention to oneself during Potions wasn't a good idea at the best of times and today Professor Snape was unusually irritable. He'd deducted points from Hufflepuff not even a minute into their class because Justin had supposedly set up his cauldron 'like a troll would deck out a table' and it had been all downhill from there.

Never mind that Justin's cauldron was the same as everyone else's, sitting on his table the same way it had done so for the past six years.

On top of that, Professor Snape had ordered them to brew Red.

Is in the color.

Well, a potion really, but one called simply... Red.

Well, okay, that wasn't true because the correct name apparently was Running Rubra but even Professor Snape had abbreviated it and that was as official as one got regarding potions in Hogwarts.

Also, it wasn't in their books.

If done correctly, it was supposed to be as close to the color's platonic ideal as possible — as long as you weren't a dunderhead as the Slytherin professor had added in his inimitable sneer after writing today's instructions on the blackboard.

Someone had whispered that this might be Snape's way of showing his appreciation for Christmas but Hannah didn't believe that for a second.

Thankfully, the irritable professor currently stalked the back of the classroom to harass Sue Li about not grinding her piece of hematite properly.

Hannah turned back to her fuming cauldron and sighed.

Maybe there was still time to fix the mistake, whatever it was.

"Susan?"

Her friend looked up from the potions book she still hoped to find any advice in. "Hm?"

"What did I do? It won't stop… " She pointed to her cauldron.

"Did you stir counter-clockwise?"

"Yes!"

"And you added one rose pedal every three stirs?"

Hannah gasped. "Merlin, I… I put them in all at once."

Susan grimaced. "Hannah, why?"

"I forgot. I... I was nervous!"

"Shh, not so loud." The dark-haired girl turned around but Professor Snape wasn't lurking behind them.

Because he was already looming in front of them.

Both girls flinched.

"Miss Abbott."

His cold eyes held her for a few very uncomfortable seconds before dropping to her cauldron to become even more disdainful if that was possible. "I had erroneously been under the impression that after years of intensive tutelage, you would be able to follow simple instructions such as… counting to three."

Some of the Ravenclaws behind her snickered and Hannah felt her cheeks grow hot.

Susan gave her a sympathetic glance but kept quiet — wisely so.

"And as impressive as this attempt of manifesting the color red is, I have asked you to do that in form of a potion, not on your face," Snape sneered.

Hannah almost choked.

More snickers behind her but they stopped when the professor looked up.

"Five points from Hufflepuff", he said softly while walking away and fixing one of the Ravenclaws with his stare, having found new prey. "When I come back and still have my olfactory faculties assaulted by this disastrous attempt of a simple color potion, it'll be more points, Miss Abbott."

Both girls held their breath now.

But the potions professor had only made a few steps when he suddenly stopped with a strange expression on his face.

He was holding out his left arm as if he'd been stung and wanted to get his hand away from the danger.

Hannah's mind unhelpfully proposed that the noxious fumes out of her cauldron might be responsible for that and that she would lose so many points and serve detention for the rest of the school year and…

"Class is dismissed."

Snape's face was as white as chalk, his voice a harsh whisper that nonetheless carried. "Leave your cauldrons on the table. Prefects, lead your housemates back to your common rooms. All students are to write an essay about how to brew Red over Christmas — ten inches at least."

A couple of whispers and even quiet groans were audible.

"Out, now!" Snape was pointing at the classroom's door.

As Hannah packed her things in a hurry and made sure none of her housemates forgot something on their tables, she couldn't help but be fearful of what'd just happened.

What the hell was going on?

There had always been rumors about the potions professor being more than a little dark and weird, but something like today had never happened before. At least not in Hannah's class — or year, because she'd have heard about that, wouldn't she?

Being the very last student to leave the classroom, Hannah looked back at Snape.

He'd put out all fires and filled the cauldrons with water with two quick waves of his wand, but now he was bracing himself against his desk.

He was still holding his left arm as if it was hurting.

Hannah closed the door before he caught her staring.

The last thing she glimpsed though was him grabbing his wand and moving toward the storeroom where he stored ingredients, utensils, and Merlin knew what else.

Later still

"What gives you the right to scream at me like that?" Hermione angrily wiped the tears from her face. "And with that kind of language, Harry? How dare you!"

He looked at her, complicated emotions running across his face.

She saw anger, fear, resentment, shame… and hurt.

Why was he hurting?

He'd thrown expletives at her at full volume like it was nothing.

She was the one who was supposed to be hurting!

Hermione tried to calm her ire because part of her knew there was something weird going on.

Or a side-effect of looping too often?

How long until she became like that?

"Hermione… " Harry's voice sounded as if he was trying to stay calm as well.

"What, Harry? Should I just go and leave you alone? Is that it?"

"No… " His eyes darted across the room. "No."

"I am so glad for that vote of confidence."

"Merlin, I… "

"Do you have any idea how that makes me feel, Harry? To be screamed at like that for something I have no power or control over? It's not like I chose to find myself here! It just happened! And I went through a lot of trouble to chase you down because you were missing and that was my only clue and now... I... " She took a few deep breaths. "I thought that at least you were in my corner."

"Hermione."

"No! You got to say your piece, Harry. You screamed it in my face, really." She crossed her arms and eyed him angrily.

Harry rubbed his face with both hands as if trying to wake himself.

"This is just so much to take in." He rubbed his neck now. "How are you even… I mean, when… no, you said a few days. Six."

"What is so bad about me being here then? Is it because I'm not Ron? Or Ginny?"

That might be a bit unfair but Hermione honestly didn't care at this point.

Harry had never gone at her like that.

Unlike Ron.

It hurt that Harry had now done it as well.

A lot.

Especially since they were both trapped in a Merlin-forsaken time loop! It just boggled her mind.

"No, it's not! Not at all!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"I am sorry." Harry glanced at her and looked as if he was chewing on every single word before speaking. "I don't know what that was. Maybe I've been lonely for too long."

"But… aren't we friends, Harry? I don't understand how… "

"Because now you're trapped as well! Don't you see?" He gestured around the room. "I won't lie and say it wasn't soul-crushing to be alone here — it is! Was."

"But?" She glared at him, waiting for that stupid but-comment to make another appearance but thankfully it didn't.

"But I always took comfort in the fact that none of you had to experience this. That you could just live your life, go through this day... normally."

They looked at each other again.

She considered what Harry was actually saying.

And suddenly it all made sense.

"Oh, Harry."

He had tried to save her.

Them.

The rest of Hogwarts.

Well, not save, but he had isolated himself because he was wired to suffer quietly and not cause problems — and telling people about being a time-traveler definitely counted as such, she had to admit.

He hadn't done himself any favors by doing that because the reasoning behind it was flawed but it was very... Harry.

She sniffed. "It it's not your fault I'm here."

"How do you know that?" His eyes had that haunted look again. "How do you know that, Hermione?"

"Because unless something really strange happened after Professor Slughorn's Christmas party I don't see how us going to bed and waking up on the same day over and over again is your fault in any way. You didn't cast unknown spells or played around with foreign artifacts on that day, did you?"

He shook his head. "No, at least I don't think so. But to be honest… I don't even know what happened originally. What I said, whom I met, how I got to bed."

"Because of… how often you've woken up within the loop?" Despite her anger, she felt sympathy for him.

Her five — no, six! — days were already difficult to keep track of.

"Yeah."

That one word suddenly made her feel the weight of the emotional turmoil of her last... well, days. It had been exhausting, to say the least.

Why were things always so bloody complicated?

Hermione stopped herself because that line of thought felt very familiar.

Maybe that's how it begins, she thought and grimaced.I'm going mad.

"So how is it bad that it's the two of us now, Harry? Together, we will find a way out of this."

There was that lopsided smile again. "Ah, about that."

"What?"

"I know you're way more brilliant than I can ever hope to be — but I tried getting out of this. Repeatedly."

When she opened her mouth to argue, he held up a hand. "And I didn't do it alone. I got Dumbledore to help, McGonagall, and several of the professors, really. Also other people."

He was staring off into space now. "Mister Ollivander. Bill Weasley. The Ministry, for all the good that did me… I contacted the ICW several times. Spoke to Nicolas Flamel even. Also witches and wizards from France, Spain, Russia, Africa, Germany, America… "

Hermione didn't know what to say.

Of course, she should've expected him to not sit around for eternity.

He was Harry, after all.

But to hear him listing all the people he'd already asked to help him with his predicament — their predicament now — felt daunting.

Depressing, even.

"None of those experts could help you? How is that even possible? You can't be the first person this ever happened to!"

Harry shook his head slowly. "Nothing ever came of it. I always woke up in my dormitory again, still being in the loop. I know it's hard to believe and I suspect you already have theories and a million questions about how all of this works, and I will gladly answer all of those but — don't hope for an easy solution, Hermione."

Well, that reply was only fair, she decided.

She might believe in her scientific and magical prowess but she hadn't been trapped in this loop long enough to actually hallucinate other people, repeatedly. It was naive to assume he hadn't tried several if not most or even all of the things running through her head right now.

Hermione swallowed and nodded. "Okay. I believe you, Harry. Let's take this one step after another."

"I'd like that."

He stood up and walked toward the shards of his mug on the floor.

Hermione watched as he drew his wand and flicked it lazily for a nonverbal Reparo. The shards flew toward him, assembling themselves to be a whole mug once again — but so did the splashes of tea on the floor and bookshelves. It even steamed again as Harry snatched the repaired mug out of the air to turn back to her.

"What was that?"

"Hm?" He turned the hot-again mug in his hands.

"That spell you just cast — non-verbally I might add — wasn't a normal Reparo."

He smiled impishly. "No, it wasn't."

"Harry... "

"It's an advanced version. I found it early on in a spell book about time magic. Never thought about what Reparo really is considering how it works. It wasn't what I was looking for in the end but I found it handy nonetheless." He shrugged.

Part of Hermione wanted to ask him to teach it to her right now but she stopped herself.

He had been trapped in this loop seemingly forever.

Without oversight and someone like her to nag him to do homework, but still...

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"How many new spells do you know?"

"I kinda knew you'd ask that."

"Harry!"

"Sorry. Well, I don't know really... I guess it's a lot?"

"You... don't know?" She couldn't believe it. "How do you not know?"

"I never counted them. I just picked up stuff here and there. Sometimes because I believed it would help me get out but sometimes it just sounded fun."

"I have to admit that sounds very much like you."

He smiled. "Thanks."

"Not sure it was a compliment, Harry."

He waved her off. "No worries, I'm still taking it as such."

Another moment of silence came upon them, but then Harry put his mug away and cleared his throat. "Hermione, I am really sorry about earlier. It won't happen again, I promise. I just... need a bit of help, to adjust. Have a little more patience, please."

She looked into his eyes and saw that they were moist.

"I am so glad to have you with me, honestly. I still feel bad that you're now caught in this as well... but I get it. Not my fault."

He didn't fool her for one second — and Hermione suspected he knew that as well — but it was nice to hear him say it anyway.

She put her mug aside as well and reached out to him.

Harry looked at her hand before taking it in his.

She sighed.

There was no need to clear up everything at once.

The most important things was that she wasn't alone and he wasn't alone and that they would help each other get out of the loop.

They had time.

All of it, probably.

"Let's forget about it. I'm sure there's something we can do. Together, Harry."

"Together, Hermione."

She felt the warmth of his hand, a reassuring presence that anchored her and made her believe her own words a bit more.

"So, what now?" He was watching her closely, probably able to guess a few of the things she was debating with herself.

"Now it's time that you give me some answers because I have questions. A lot of them."

"Aye, aye, Captain!" He gave her a mock salute with his other hand.

She smacked him on his arm. "Prat."

"Absolutely."

"Let's begin. What in Merlin's name have you been up to the past two days and why was Professor Sinistra missing a key? That was you, wasn't it?"

Harry coughed. "Oh, that. Yes... well... it's a long story."

She raised an eyebrow.

"No pun intended!"

South of the Hogwarts grounds, 4.43 p.m.

The only one to witness the quiet but sudden appearance of two cloaked figures in the snowy landscape was an eagle owl that had been dozing in a large fir after a successful hunt.

They unfolded themselves out of nothingness as if they'd traveled by Portkey, but they made barely a sound and stood straight, wands at the ready.

The eagle owl watched with growing interest as the two pair — a man and a woman — looked around and applied warming charms to each other and also spells it had never witnessed before. Years of living close to Hogwarts had taught it to recognize what kind of wizard or witch to watch out for and these two made its feathers bristle.

Time to find another tree to sit in, it decided.

The eagle owl spread its wings and vanished quietly into the night sky — but a few heartbeats later it was hit by a strange yellow light and then it knew nothing anymore.

"That was just an animal. Stop being so jumpy."

"Better to be safe than sorry. I trust no one and nothing."

"Just keep your wand down. We're supposed to keep a low profile."

The two figures stopped at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds.

The man held out a hand to feel something in the air, then moved his wand in a complicated gesture.

"Can you do it?"

"Of course. Not the first time I pay my alma mater a visit."

"I always knew you are a pervert."

They advanced northward, passing the wards without raising a noticeable alarm.

Behind them, their footsteps vanished after a few seconds.

When they were halfway toward the castle proper, the woman stopped as they were about to pass a few bushed half-buried in snow. "This is a good spot. We have cover but can still see everything."

"Agreed."

Both reached into their robes and pulled out small devices they wore on silvery chains.

The woman drew her wand now again and aimed it first at herself, then at her companion.

A network of fine, greenish lines appeared around their bodies before it settled and vanished.

"Merlin, I really hate how that feels."

The man spat in the snow. "I know, I always taste cabbage when it settles."

"So, how long?"

"The full monty this time."

"Ha-ha. Are you sure?"

"Of course not, but it's necessary. We have orders. Also, I'd like to get out of this eventually."

"I can't disagree with that. Well, no time like the present, is there?"

"Really?"

"Seemed appropriate."

Both stepped closer to each other.

"Okay then. On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

In perfect sync, they both turned something in the center of their devices exactly five times and vanished.