Chapter 28
THE FOREST AND THE TREES
"Harry, why did you cast Muffliato on the girls' staircase last night?" Hermione asked him quietly as he and Ron sat down for breakfast the next morning. "Were you and Ron talking down in the common room?"
"Er –" It hit Harry what the whooshing sound he'd heard last night as he and Jon walked up the boys' staircase was: the effects of that spell. "Why d'you think it was me that cast it?" he finished lamely.
Hermione gave him a quizzical look. "Well, you are one of the only students in the school that even knows that spell, Harry. And I won't cast it, as you well know. Therefore, it's either you or Ron, and Ron and I were studying together in the common room until 11:30 last night," she finished matter-of-factly.
"I didn't do it," Ron said through a mouthful of eggs, looking both Harry and Hermione. "Did you, Harry?"
"Er –" Harry shrugged. "Well, I – I apologized to Jon last night. I asked him to meet me down here after midnight. I didn't want anyone else to hear me apologizing to him, I just felt stupid."
"Hey, what's that?" Ron asked, pointing to the ring on Harry's finger.
"Oh, yeah!" In a low voice Harry told them about the ring Jon had given him as a replacement for the Marauder's Map.
"Whoa," Ron said, in awe.
"How could Jon have remade the Marauder's Map as a ring?" Hermione asked, astonished.
"Oh, that's right," Harry said, realizing that he could now remember Lupin's book since the incantation controlling the memory of it was now broken. "You've forgotten about Professor Lupin's Marauder's Map book by now."
"His what?" Ron and Hermione said together.
By the end of breakfast, Harry had managed to explain the details behind Lupin's book as well as promising them a demonstration of the new Map. They hastened off to begin classes for the day.
February rolled in the same way January had rolled out – cold and blustery, very unwelcome weather indeed for Quidditch. Fortunately, the first game of the term would not take place until the third Saturday of March, between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and the weather was expected to improve substantially by then.
For now, however, there was still the need for practice, and Harry had scheduled one for that afternoon, right after the last period ended. The match would be five months from the previous one they'd played in late October, and Harry expected his team would be rusty from lack of playing.
To his surprise, however, the practice went smoothly, with Ginny, Demelza and Natalie bringing the Quaffle down the pitch in good form and passing well; Jimmy and Ritchie, his Beaters, were showing good coverage for their team, and Ron, as Keeper, was making saves more often than not, even from Ginny.
Watching Ron play, Harry realized he was having one of his best days ever: poised, enthusiastic and confident, he was at the top of his game. Afterwards, in the changing room, he laughed and joked even with Jimmy and Ritchie, neither of whom he normally talked with much. If he could get Ron and Hermione alone, Harry thought, he could let them know what he'd found out about Snape. They would both likely be shocked, especially Hermione, but if Harry could prepare Ron properly, he might be able to resist Snape's Imperius Curse.
After changing back into their school robes, Harry and Ron met Hermione at the entrance to the changing room and they started back toward the castle.
"You were flying really well today, Ron," Hermione said brightly as Ron grinned at her.
"Thanks! I was, wasn't I?" Ron held up his broom, one of the Crown Jewels. "With this broom, and the saves I was making today, I felt like I swallowed a bottle of Felix Felicis! I felt like I could do anything!"
"Luna told Ginny this morning at breakfast she felt like that too," Hermione said, beaming. "Neville asked her to go to Madam Puddifoot's this Valentine's Day."
"Really?" Ron said, giving her a sly smile. "You know, that's a good idea."
"What do you mean?" Hermione said, wide-eyed with an innocence Harry had a gut feeling was feigned.
Ron stopped, and Hermione and Harry both came to a halt with him. "Hermione," he said, taking her hand. "Would you go with me to Madam Puddifoot's on Valentine's Day?"
"Oh, Ron!" Hermione embraced Ron tightly, and he hugged her back with his free arm. "Of course I'd love to go!" She put her arm in his and they started walking again toward the school, with Harry trailing behind. "Thank Merlin you asked me before this weekend – now I'll have a chance to find a new dress. And we'll find you something to wear as well."
"What's wrong with what I've got right now?" Ron asked, confused.
"For our first – I mean, for tea at Madam Puddifoot's?" Hermione said incredulously. "Ron, please!"
"Alright, no problem," Ron said, managing to sound both airy and annoyed at the same time. "I'll just have Mum go out in the garden and pick some gold off the Galleon tree –"
"We'll manage, Ron," Hermione said firmly. She squeezed his arm happily. "I'm so glad you asked me!" Walking into the school, they headed for the Great Hall, where dinner had begun.
"Ron, Hermione," Harry, having fallen behind, was muttering to himself. "I hate to spoil this happy moment, but Snape's put an Imperius Curse on Ron several months ago and he's been telling him all our secrets. Yeah, that's going to sound great right now."
In fact, as Harry shortly found out, Valentine's Day this year was turning into a very big event for Hogwarts. With Voldemort's disappearance before the school year began, there had been a lot of coupling, decoupling and re-coupling amongst the students, who now felt free to pursue such interests.
Lavender Brown produced a flyer from Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, which had enjoyed a long-standing tradition of being the place to be on Valentine's Day. Harry, in his first and to-date only visit to the establishment, had found it too cramped, too steamy and too frilly. Of course, nearly every girl in Hogwarts wanted to go there on February fourteenth.
And Madame Puddifoot, cagey old witch and businesswoman that she was, had worked out a system that would allow just that. Valentine's Day would also be a Hogsmeade day at Hogwarts; all students third-year and above with signed permission slips from their parents or guardians would be allowed to go to the small Wizarding village that day.
Madam Puddifoot had even arranged specific times for each year. Third-years would be allowed in the shop between noon and 1 p.m.; fourth-years from 1 p.m. until 2 p.m., and so on up to the seventh-years, who were given the coveted 4 p.m. time, the traditional time for tea in Britain.
Soon the only topics one heard about in the corridors, the Great Hall and the common rooms was who was going with whom to the Tea Room, and how hard the N.E.W.T. (or O.W.L.) studies were going. It seemed as if schoolwork might grind to a halt until after the second Saturday of February.
The teachers, recognizing (and, in most cases, tolerating) this, responded in their own ways. Professor Sprout cut back on her reading and homework assignments and concentrated on her always-lively practicals. Tonks did likewise, with simple exercises that left her free to roam among the students questioning the girls on who they were going with and what they were wearing. Even Flitwick began assigning only in-class reading and relatively minor N.E.W.T. practicals for them.
Snape's response, however, was typical of his lack of regard for his students, Harry thought: he began assigning longer reading assignments and more homework. In addition, when students began to complain, he began deducting points, especially from Gryffindor, for "insolence," culminating in assigning detention to Dean Thomas for protesting this. Heaping insult upon injury, he added to Dean, "As I have a prior commitment this weekend, Thomas, the detention will be the following Saturday at 5 p.m."
"But that's Valentine's Day!" Dean said, outraged. "I have a date at four that afternoon!"
"Then I fail to understand your disappointment," Snape said coldly. "After all, you will have an hour to complete your date and appear at my office, promptly, at 5 p.m."
Dean lapsed into an angry silence and Snape's lip curled in silent victory. "Turn to Chapter 34, and we'll begin by discussing area protection spells."
A few days before Valentine's Day, Fred and George wrote to Ron that owl order service for love potions had surged during the week, and that they were working long hours to fill them. Normally, as a prefect, this would have outraged Hermione, who considered love potions both foolish and dangerous. This year, however, she merely shrugged when Ron read her his letter from his twin brothers, saying, "Well, it will all blow over by Monday."
When the day finally arrived, the entire school was in a state of high anticipation. In contrast, Filch shuffled about the entrance hall, in high dudgeon, hurling threats at anyone who put a toe out of line.
Harry and Ron came down that morning for a leisurely breakfast, though Ron's stomach was much more fluttery than normal; he was quite nervous about the trip to Madame Puddifoot's that afternoon.
"I mean, it's not like we've never sat around and drank tea together before," Ron was saying to Harry as they both filled their plates. "She's just so – so – I dunno, so … excited about it, this time," he finished, looking at Harry almost helplessly. "I think if I backed out now she'd curse me. I mean, really curse me!"
"I know what you mean," Harry agreed. "Hello, Jon."
Jon nodded at Harry and Ron as he sat down and started getting breakfast. "Are you taking anyone to Madame Puddifoot's this afternoon?" Ron asked him.
"Deirdre wants to go," Jon said unenthusiastically as he started in on his eggs. "She's been hearing so much about the place from the other girls she wants to see what all the excitement's about."
"Isn't she excited about going there to be with you?" Ron asked.
"Oh, I expect so," Jon said, shrugging. "But I don't think she's going to enjoy it. It's just not her style."
Ron turned to Harry. "You're taking Ginny, aren't you?"
"No," Harry said.
"What?" Ron looked astounded. "You're joking!"
"She and I never talked about it," Harry said, keeping his eyes on his plate. The truth was, he'd been avoiding her for the last week or so for that very reason. All of the talk of the past week about who was going or wasn't going with whom had served to underscore to Harry what he should be concentrating on – instead of having tea at Madame Puddifoot's, he should be concentrating on finding Voldemort's Horcruxes.
"Maybe she hoped you'd ask her even if you hadn't talked about it," Jon said quietly. Harry didn't respond.
"Good morning, everyone," Hermione said brightly as she walked up to the Gryffindor table, positively glowing with excitement and anticipation, and slid in next to Ron, whom she hugged for several moments in pure joy. Ron put an arm around her awkwardly. "Ready for the big day?" she asked Ron in a low tone only Harry, sitting right next to him, heard.
Ron nodded mutely.
"Are you going with someone today, Jon?" Hermione asked him conversationally as she buttered a piece of toast.
"Yes," Jon nodded. "Deirdre."
"Oh." Hermione smiled as if she'd expected that response all along. "Is she excited about going?"
"Yes," Jon said, his tone flat.
"You don't sound too excited about it," Hermione commented, cutting her toast in half and taking a bite out of one of the pieces. "Aren't you excited about going, too?" Harry wondered if she was fishing for gossip material.
"I'm sure we'll have a good time," Jon said, not taking the bait. "She's been looking forward to it since I asked her to go."
Harry tried to sink down into his seat, out of sight. It didn't work.
"Harry," Hermione said, leaning forward to look at him around Ron. "You asked Ginny to go, didn't you?"
"Um, no," Harry said, knowing in a flash of intuition that she'd already asked Ginny the same thing.
"Oh!" Hermione said, not sounding very surprised. "Why not? I'm sure she'd love to go."
Harry felt a flush of anger. Hermione knew very well the reasons why he didn't want to appear romantically involved with Ginny. "Just leave it, Hermione," he said in a cold tone.
Hermione, appearing stung by the rebuff, lapsed into an affronted silence. No one else spoke for some time; excited conversations about Hogsmeade and Madame Puddifoot's continued around them. Harry pushed his eggs around on his plate for several minutes, then pushed his plate away, no longer hungry.
Abruptly the food vanished from the tables, signaling the end of breakfast. Hermione stood stiffly, not looking in Harry's direction. "Ron, let's get going."
Ron looked at her quickly. "What, already? It's only 9 a.m.!"
"I'll want to do some shopping first," Hermione said curtly. "And we can have lunch at Three Broomsticks. That is, if you can manage to order without getting tongue-tied around Madam Rosemerta. Bye, Jon," she said, looking across the table at him. "I hope you and Deirdre have a nice time today." She didn't look at or acknowledge Harry at all.
"Bye," Jon said, watching her walk away. Ron lingered for a moment; catching Harry's eye, he shrugged helplessly then followed Hermione into the entrance hall. Other students were following suit; soon the Great Hall was nearly empty. Even most of the teachers were gone from the High Table; only Tonks and McGonagall were still there; they were huddled close together, as if talking about something private.
"What's the matter, Potter? Your girlfriend dump you?" The one person Harry had hoped not to see today, Draco Malfoy, had come up between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and was standing ten feet away, flanked, as always, by Crabbe and Goyle. "I can see why, with you hanging out with losers like Clown here. Get it? Crown, clown." Crabbe and Goyle both sniggered sycophantically.
"Very original, Malfoy," Jon said sarcastically. "Nobody's ever thought of that insult before." Harry snorted and Malfoy's smile vanished.
"Don't get cheeky, Crown. I'm Head Boy, remember – I'll have to take points off of Gryffindor for rudeness."
"Try it," Jon said, pointing a finger at him.
Malfoy snorted and started to speak, "Gluuck –" His eyes went wide and he looked wildly at Crabbe and Goyle. "Nnng! Uggl!" he said, hands to his throat. Crabbe and Goyle, both looking panicked, were saying "What? What?" as Malfoy tried to speak.
"You'd better take him to Madam Pomfrey, boys," Jon said to Crabbe and Goyle. "He appears to have lost his voice."
Malfoy's hand went into his robe for his wand, but Jon put a hand up and said, "McGonagall's looking this way." Malfoy froze and his eyes darted to the High Table. It was true; McGonagall and Tonks were both staring with interest at them.
Malfoy relaxed, letting go of his wand. "Gnull gnay arrgh glis, Glwn," he said (or rather, tried to say), then turned and walked away, Crabbe and Goyle following quickly in his wake, not even bothering to crack their knuckles or chuckle trollishly before leaving. Harry glanced surreptitiously toward McGonagall; she watched Malfoy and his cronies leave the Great Hall, then with a final stern glance in Harry's direction turned back to her conversation with Tonks.
"What did he say?" Harry asked, looking at Jon after they'd left.
"He said I'd pay for that," Jon said, chuckling himself. "At least, that's as close as I could make out."
"Aren't you going to go with them?" Harry wanted to know, indicating the throngs of students now mobbing the entrance hall waiting for the teachers who were going to take them to Hogsmeade.
"Deirdre's got other things to do today," Jon said. "She doesn't want to leave until after three or so. And I feel lazy today; I'm just going to hang out until then. Are you anxious to get rid of me or something?"
"No," Harry said. "Actually, I want to ask you something."
"Shoot."
"Do you have a crush on Hermione?"
Jon sat back and regarded Harry with mild surprise. "Didn't we settle this question a couple of months ago?"
"I know what she said," Harry replied. "But I want to know how you feel about it."
"Tell me something first, Harry: what do you think about it?" Jon asked.
Harry was silent for several moments, thinking how to say it. Finally, "Yeah, I think you do. You probably don't want to say because Ron and Hermione are still a couple. But I think you would go with her if you could."
Jon sighed, staring down at the table in front of him for a long time before he replied. Finally, he looked up at Harry. "You're wrong, Harry," he said quietly. "I will tell you, truthfully, that I do like Hermione, a lot. But I knew, the first time I saw her and Ron, they belonged together. I don't want to screw that up.
"But at the same time," he continued, "I'm not going to stay away from her because she's 'taken,' or some other nonsense like that. She can talk to whomever she wants to, do you agree?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "Alright, I see your point, I guess."
"So, what are you going to do about Ginny?" Jon asked after several moments of silence.
"No idea," Harry said, feeling completely lost.
"What about finding her and asking if she'd like to go to Madame Puddifoot's?" Jon suggested, plaintively.
Harry sighed. "I should have asked her days ago, if I was going to," he said, still not knowing what to do. "She probably won't want to go with me anyway, now, or she's going with someone else."
"Probably not," Jon said with a shrug, but there was an ironic smile on his face.
"Right," Harry said. He stood up. "Look, maybe I'll see you later."
"Okay," Jon said, and Harry walked out of the Great Hall, past the crowds of third- and fourth-years still waiting to go to Hogsmeade, and up the marble staircase. He wandered aimless around the castle for some time, trying to decide whether to ask Ginny or not. One thing, he knew, was certain: he'd never know whether she'd go or not if he didn't ask her.
He'd decided what to do; the only left now was to find Ginny and talk to her. That would be the simplest part of it. Finding a deserted stretch of corridor, Harry took out his wand and tapped the Marauder's Ring saying, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." An image of the castle appeared, and Harry asked, "Where am I?" The viewpoint sped inward until the corridor he was in came into view and he could see the figure representing him, labeled "Harry Potter." "Where is Ginny Weasley?" Harry said, and the viewpoint slid forward and downward, passing through walls and floors until it arrived the courtyard, where Harry could see the lone figure labeled "Ginevra Weasley." "Mischief managed," he said, tapping the ring and dashing along corridors and down flights of staircases until he ran down the marble staircase into the now mostly-empty entrance hall and along the corridor leading north until it came to a corner and a doorway leading to the courtyard.
Ginny was sitting on a bench in front of a compost-filled flower bed, seemingly lost in thought. She didn't react immediately when Harry sat down beside her. Harry stared at her profile, thinking how beautiful she looked and how stupid he felt, not wanting to be with her. But he did want to be with her, he argued with himself; it was Voldemort he didn't want involved in this – Voldemort and his Death Eaters, who would surely try to kill her to get at him. It was just really, really hard to remember that at times like this.
"Ginny," Harry said finally. "I'm sorry."
Ginny turned to look at him, and he saw a tear running down her cheek. "What's wrong?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Nothing," she said, sniffing and wiping the tear away. "I'm just glad to see you."
"I'm glad to see you too," he said, smiling as well. "I'm just – well, I'm just –"
"Stupid?" she finished, looking at him with raised eyebrows.
Harry laughed. "Maybe," he said, and he leaned forward and kissed her.
After several seconds she put her arms around him, and in what seemed like a day or so later he leaned back and looked at her.
"Do you forgive me?" he asked.
"I'll think about it," she said slowly, then added, "after a few more kisses."
They kissed for several more minutes, and held each other in a long embrace. But when Ginny finally pulled away from him, she had a disapproving look on her face.
"Wasn't there something you came here to ask me?" she said with a forced severity.
"Well, yeah," Harry said, looking as if the question were obvious.
"I can't answer it if you don't ask me, Harry," she said, seriously.
"That's true," Harry agreed. "Ginny, would you like to go to Madame Puddifoot's with me this afternoon?"
"I would," she said, then laughed and hugged him fiercely. "See, that didn't hurt much, did it?"
"Not much," Harry said, rubbing his ribs where she'd squeezed them.
"Good, because you're not going to the infirmary even if I cracked some of them," she said, laughing. "In fact, we're going even if Snape shows up in the next ten seconds and gives us detention all afternoon!"
That jarred a memory in Harry. "Oh, I've been meaning to tell you something about Ron," he said, and quickly filled her in on what he'd witnessed from under his Invisibility Cloak between Ron and Snape in the corridor of Barnabas the Barmy, almost two weeks before. Ginny was horrified.
"Have you checked to see if he was actually cursed?" she asked, her eyes blazing with hatred toward Snape.
"Haven't had a chance," Harry shook his head. "He and Hermione have been together almost constantly since I found out; I've been trying to tell her so she can help me figure out what to do. Snape's been trying to get me in enough trouble so McGonagall will have to kick me out – I think that's partly what the Ministry raids were about, but they couldn't prove anything without finding Jon's Corvette."
"So where did it go, by the way?" Ginny wanted to know. "I snuck out to the Whomping Willow a week or so ago, but Filch covered up the knot that freezes it so it can't be approached anymore."
"He moved it, he told me so when we talked a few nights after I talked with Lupin and –"
"When did you talk to Lupin?" Ginny exclaimed. "Was he here?"
"No, I used McGonagall's fireplace. She let me. It was the same day I got in the fight with Malfoy in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom."
"Ooooh, I heard about that," she said breathlessly. "Myrtle was telling some Ravenclaw girls about it, and they've been telling everyone else. You know," she said with a smirk, "I think Myrtle sort of fancies you, Harry."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I've gotten that impression as well," he said, shuddering slightly. "But I don't think it'd work out, seeing as how she's been dead for fifty years now."
"The point is," Ginny said, getting back on track. "We've got to do something about Ron being cursed. I can tell Hermione about it the next time we're alone."
"Good," Harry said. "And I'll figure out how to check Ron for the Imperius Curse."
Ginny suddenly jumped up. "Oh my God," she exclaimed. "I've got to go get ready! Come on!" Grabbing Harry's hand, she raced back into the school and they ran pell-mell up staircases and along corridors until they reached the Gryffindor common room.
"You get ready too!" She said excitedly, letting him go and starting up the girls' staircase. "I'll be ready in an hour – well, make it ninety minutes – then we can go to Hogsmeade's until it's time for your turn at Madame Puddifoot's!"
Two hours later, Harry was sitting in front of the common room fireplace, watching the flames crackling in the hearth and idly turning the Marauder's Ring on his finger when Ginny appeared again.
They made their way down to the entrance hall where a sour-looking Filch gestured Harry toward the signout book. "Don't forget, children – curfew is at 6 p.m.," Filch told them nastily, passing a Dark magic detector around both of them, sniffing with disappointment when nothing turned up. "Have a good time," he wheezed sarcastically, jerking a thumb at the door.
"He's getting to be a right foul git," Ginny said disgustedly as walked toward the school gates.
"At least he can't do anything to us once we're beyond these gates," Harry said. They passed through the main gate, between the pillars upon which stood the pair of winged boars which were Hogwarts namesake, and up the road leading to Hogsmeade.
The normally quiet Wizarding town was full nearly to bursting with students: couples strolling arm-in-arm, either waiting their turn at Madame Puddifoot's or returning from there; local townsfolk, who were tolerating the intrusion with quiet amusement or studied indifference; and the occasional Hogwarts teacher, probably acting as unofficial chaperones in case any quarrels broke out.
Harry also noticed a few people he didn't recognize from the local population walking about the town. Possibly, they were travelers just "passing through," but he felt a sense of "eyes upon him" from time to time that could not be mere coincidence – especially when it seemed to occur around the time he noticed an unfamiliar face.
Harry began to "check out" these unfamiliar folks in a casual way: as he and Ginny made their way slowly through Hogsmeade, window-shopping or when they stopped at Three Broomsticks for a couple of butterbeers, he would casually glance toward them, then away for a few seconds. When he turned back again, invariable the person had disappeared.
Ginny had begun to notice it as well. At one point when she drew near to point out a particularly frilly dress in the window of Gladrags, she whispered, "Harry, I think there's some witch following us around."
"Yeah, I saw her too," Harry agreed. "She's probably gone by now, though."
Ginny glanced behind them cautiously, frowning. "You're right – she's gone. How'd you know?"
"She was the fourth person I've seen so far watching us," Harry said matter-of-factly. The first was a witch, then two different wizards, and that one we just saw."
"Why d'you reckon they're watching us?" Ginny said, sounding a bit nervous.
"Probably to see who we talk to, where we go, what we do," Harry guessed. "I was wondering whether I was seeing things or not, but if you're seeing them too, I think we can consider it real."
They came to the side street where Madame Puddifoot's was located, a few doors from the intersection. "Oh my gawd," Ginny drawled.
A first glance it seemed as if every student from third to seventh year was standing outside Madame Puddifoot's. A queue of laughing, chattering couples stretched from the doorway up the street. There were also several small crowds of students standing along and in the street, talking excitedly about their experiences in the Tea Room. Standing in front of the stores across the street were several shop owners who were looking upon the scene with evident displeasure. Beside him, looking at this throng, Ginny uttered a soft but sizzling curse.
Harry looked at her in mild surprise. "Sorry," she said, more quietly. "I just didn't expect a crowd like this."
"I didn't either," Harry said. "I don't think I've ever seen a crowd this big in Hogsmeade before."
"We better get in line," Ginny said ruefully. "I see almost everyone else we know in seventh year there already – we're probably the last ones here."
It wasn't long before four p.m., Harry saw, checking his watch. There were only two or three sixth-year couples at the front of the queue now, and as they walked by several couples walked out of the shop and joined the milling crowd in the street. The last few sixth-years stepped inside.
A few of the seventh-year couples from Gryffindor waved at them as they walked by: Neville and Luna were right at the front, followed by (Harry blinked in surprise) Dean Thomas and Romilda Vane. Blaise Zabini was there with a girl Harry didn't recognize; Harry and he avoided looking at each other; Gryffindors and Slytherins loathed each other on principle. They also saw Michael Corner, Ginny's old boyfriend of a few years ago, with Orla Quirke; and Terry Boot and Lisa Turpin, the Hufflepuff prefects, were there as well. Justin Fitch-Fletchley, who was standing with Laura Madley, nodded at them as they walked by. Near the end of the queue were Ron and Hermione, and Ron waved at them to cut in front of them, prompting some outraged looks from the couples behind them. "We'll go to the back," Harry said, shaking his head at the invitation. "See you inside."
They arrived at the end, behind a pair of Hufflepuffs Harry didn't know very well. Ginny nodded to them. "Hi Wayne, Eleanor," she said, smiling.
"Hi, Ginny," they both responded, smiling as well. "Hello, Harry," Wayne said.
"This is Wayne Hopkins," Ginny said to Harry, introducing them. "And Eleanor Branstone." Harry shook both their hands.
"Been having a good year, Harry?" Wayne asked conversationally.
"I've had better," Harry said mildly. "How about you?"
"Can't complain. I'm looking forward to getting N.E.W.T.s over with and getting out into the real world."
"Wayne's going to work for the Ministry," Eleanor said proudly, squeezing his arm and beaming at him. "He thinks they'll put him in Department of Magical Trading Standards, cataloging carnivorous plants in Europe and Asia Minor."
"Sounds exciting," Harry said with a small smile.
"I should hope so!" Wayne said enthusiastically. "I can hardly wait to get started!"
"He's so adventurous!" Eleanor gushed, putting an arm around him affectionately.
"Well, hope you two have a great time," Wayne said, and he and Eleanor turned back around.
Harry and Ginny glanced at each other and smiled, each knowing what the other was thinking: If only our lives were that uncomplicated.
There was a commotion up at the front of the queue and several people stepped out to see what was going on. Harry strained to see but there were too many people. "I'll go up!" Ginny said, and took off toward the front of the queue.
"Wait –" Harry made a grab for her but she was already out of reach. He ran after her, having a bad feeling about what they were going to find.
"Ginny –!" Ron said as she ran past him and Hermione.
"Harry, what's going –" Hermione said as he ran past them, hot on Ginny's heels.
"Come on!" Harry said loudly, waving for them to follow. It couldn't hurt to have a couple of prefects on his side.
A few seconds later Ginny and Harry had arrived at the doorway of Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop to find Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy standing almost nose-to-nose, with Luna and Pansy Parkinson each standing behind their respective dates. Draco was between Neville and the door of the tea shop; evidently he and Pansy had tried to cut into the queue.
Draco, seeing the four of them run up, put his hand in his pocket but didn't otherwise move. "Called up the reserves, eh, Longbottom?" he sneered, jerking his head toward them. "What'd you do, call them on your little magic coin?"
"Nobody called us," Hermione said angrily. "But it's a good thing we're here."
"Yeah," Ron added hotly. "No cuts, Malfoy!"
"Head Boy's prerogative," Malfoy said with a smirk, turning back the lapel of his robe to show his badge.
"We're not in school!" Hermione said, outraged. "You can't bully people with that badge here!"
"You don't think so?" Malfoy laughed, and Pansy giggled.
"You're pretty naïve, Granger, to think that," Pansy said derisively. "All the rest of us have. Right, Lisa?" she called out. Lisa shook her head no, but Terry Boot looked away.
At that moment Madam Puddifoot opened the door. "All right, m'dears, it's four p.m. – time for the seventh years – oh, dear…" she trailed off, seeing the confrontation going on outside her shop. "What – what's going on here?" she demanded, albeit a bit tremulously, looking back and forth between Neville, Draco, and Ron and Hermione.
Harry had the impression that other eyes were on them as well. He didn't want any of the Aurors he'd spotted earlier to break this up – they'd undoubtedly send everyone back to Hogwarts, and Harry didn't want the seventh-years' (and his as well!) Valentine's Day ruined. He began to step forward.
But Neville had put up his hands. "It's okay," he said calmly. "If the Head Boy wants to be the first one into Madame Puddifoot's shop for Valentine's Day, I suppose he should have it. After all," he added pointedly, "it's probably his most important contribution to the school this year."
Several students nearby laughed, as did many of the students watching the altercation nearby from the street.
Malfoy reddened. "Never mind," he said nastily. "You can have this stupid old shop. Pansy and I'll go to Three Broomsticks – I reckon Madam Rosemerta will give us a private room for our own little Valentine's Day celebration."
"That's unlikely," Harry said loudly. "Unless you put another Imperius Curse on her, like you did last year." There were several gasps and a few students pulled back, wondering what Malfoy would do after such an accusation.
Malfoy's teeth gritted, and Harry saw his hand clench inside his robe. But Malfoy didn't pull his wand – he just grabbed Pansy with his free hand and said, "Come on – let's go."
"But Draco!" Pansy shrilled as he led her away toward High Street. "I wanted to go there! Draco!" Her voice finally faded as she and Malfoy reached High Street and disappeared, accompanied by applause as the rest of the queue celebrated their departure.
Harry and the others started to return to the end of the queue but the other students gratefully insisted they get into line behind Neville and Luna. Within a few minutes Madam Puddifoot had ushered them into her elaborately-frilled and bowed shop and they were each seated at one of the many small, intimate tables. Ron and Hermione were seated next to Harry and Ginny, while Neville and Luna were given a spot a few tables further away.
"I'm so glad you were able to settle that unpleasant confrontation quickly," Madam Puddifoot chattered as a small towel, floating in the air, wiped off their tabletops. She bustled back and forth between them and the counter. "It would be a shame to ruin everyone's Valentine's Day." The students at the other tables, still mostly sixth-years, were staring at them in frank curiosity, as most of them had heard Neville and Malfoy's shouting a few minutes before. Harry did his best to ignore them, concentrating instead on Ginny, who was now smiling at him in a way that reminded him, unsettlingly, of Luna, who he noted was looking around the shop in fascination while Neville frowned over the rather small menu.
There were two younger girls moving among the tables, taking orders and serving, probably to lighten Madam Puddifoot's workload. Harry and Ginny's waitress, a thin, fresh-faced girl with straight brown hair, took their order. They both ordered coffee and window cakes. At the next table, Ron and Hermione's waitress, a cheerful girl with short blonde hair, took their order as well. Both girls disappeared behind the counter where Madam Puddifoot was preparing settings for other customers.
Hermione sighed contentedly, looking around the store. "This place is just so … so … "
"Frilly?" Ron suggested.
"Gaudy?" Ginny grinned.
Tasteless, Harry added to himself. It wasn't his idea of a good time, but he'd come to understand that one did have to enjoy oneself every single moment when you were with someone you cared about.
The wait for their meals seemed interminable. Several more tables were emptied and filled with incoming seventh-years. Hermione and Ginny were pointing out, and sometimes giggling over, some of the frillier decorations, along with the occasional floating cherubs that flung confetti on them every so often.
The waitresses finally brought them their coffee and snacks. Ron had ordered a smoked salmon sandwich, which he attacked while Harry and Ginny tried their window cakes and Hermione sipped at her coffee.
Some of the other seventh-years, he noted, were here only for the ambiance, such as it was, or perhaps to make a public display of affection. Wayne and Eleanor, the Hufflepuffs they were behind in line earlier, had been seated and were nearly wrapped around each other, they were sitting so close. They were ardently snogging each other, to the amusement of the other customers; a few, however, were taking their passion as a cue to begin their own. It was not long before several couples were likewise engaged, to Harry's mild embarrassment. He even saw, glancing Neville's way, that he and Luna were leaning across their own table, kissing.
"Getting any ideas, Harry?" Ginny said wickedly as she watched him looking around the room.
"Oh, don't say that," Ron, looking fairly uncomfortable himself, snapped at her.
"Ron, don't worry about it," Hermione said, putting her hand on his. "We're here to have a nice afternoon, not to worry about who's snogging whom."
Ron looked vaguely unhappy, but – "Alright," he said, forestalling the remark Ginny, her eyes flashing at him, was about to make.
The door opened and Jon and Deirdre walked in. Madam Puddifoot bowed them into the tearoom, seating them fairly close to Harry and Ginny. Deirdre was trying to look everywhere at once, her eyes scanning the room and its contents most carefully, included the students and their various snogging or eating activities. Jon put a hand up in silent greeting at Harry, and Harry nodded in return. The blonde girl came over to take their order.
Ginny, her attention refocused on Harry, slid her hand out toward Harry, who took it in his. "I am very happy we could be together today, Harry," she said softly. "It's good to spend time, however little it is sometimes, with you."
"I'm glad we came here too," Harry smiled, for a moment letting go of the concerns he'd wrapped himself up in over the last eight months. "It would be nice if all I wanted was a job cataloging plants, wouldn't it?"
Ginny giggled. "I doubt if that would suit you," she said with amusement. "Even if they were carnivorous."
Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had been whispering to themselves. "Ron!" she suddenly said loudly, standing up. "For the last time, I'm not interested!" She turned and, dodging between the narrow tables, bolted into the ladies room.
Zabini, who'd been holding his date's coat for her, snorted. "What'd you ask her to do, Romeo?" he asked loudly. Several students chuckled at his insinuation.
"Shut up, Zabini," Ron said warningly.
"Whatever it was," Zabini's date said, simpering, "it probably scared her – I don't think Granger has even snogged anyone, much less –"
"Leave it, Daphne," Ginny cut her off. "Or have you told Blaise that you're saving yourself for your wedding night?"
Daphne glared coldly at Ginny. "As opposed to you, Weasley?" she replied nastily.
"What?!" Ron exclaimed, incensed, but Ginny's retort rode over him.
"I suppose you know all about those rumors, Daphne – you started most of them."
Daphne scowled but said nothing more as Zabini, now frowning, finished helping her with her coat and they departed.
Ginny turned back to Harry, looking rueful. "Sorry," she said quietly. "Daphne Greengrass can be quite a cow sometimes." She looked back toward the ladies room, then at Ron, a mixed look of concern for her and annoyance with Ron on her face.
"I think I should go see if Hermione's all right," she said, looking apologetically at Harry. "Do you mind?"
Harry shook his head. "It's fine, go," he said. Ginny got up, throwing a single steely-eyed glance at Ron, and went into the bathroom as well.
As soon as she was gone Ron covered his face with his hands, leaning on the table. "What did you say to her now?" Harry asked, trying to get Ron talking, to say anything.
"I don't want to talk about it," Ron said, his voice muffled under his hands. However, he spread his fingers slightly and looked between them; everyone at the tables nearest to him was staring at him.
"Whyn't you all go back to snogging each other already?" Ron said irritably. "Show's over here, move along." The people watching him slowly turned back to each and resumed their conversations, though Harry got the impression Ron and Hermione were now the focus of most of them.
"I'm glad we came here today," Harry heard Deirdre say to Jon. "I've never seen so much emotional interaction before."
"Probably more than either of us expected," Jon replied, his voice so low Harry could barely made it out.
"Oh," Deirdre said suddenly, looking toward the window. "What time is it, by the way?"
Jon looked at his watch. "It's 4:35 p.m. Why?"
Deirdre stood. "I need to go outside for a while…"
"Okay…" Jon said slowly, standing as well.
"No," Deirdre said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I need to go by myself."
"But –"
"I'll be alright," she said. "Just stay here with your friends. I'll be back in a bit." She walked out the door and turned toward the end of the street. Jon watched her leave but didn't follow her. Finally he sat down again.
Harry, Ron and Jon looked at each other. "Not exactly how I expected to spend Valentine's Day," Jon said wryly.
"Why didn't you go after her?" Harry wanted to know. "Don't you wonder what she's up to?"
"Not really," Jon said, and Harry shook his head in confusion. It used to be that he couldn't fathom how girls thought. Now it looked like he'd have to add Americans to the list of people he couldn't figure out.
"Whatever she's doing, Harry," Jon said seriously, "it's not something we need be concerned about. She would have told me if that were so."
"How do you know you can trust her?" Harry asked, equally serious.
"Didn't Professor McGonagall vouch for her?"
"Well, yeah , but –" Harry stopped short. "Wait a minute. How did you know that? McGonagall told me that, but I haven't mentioned it to you yet."
"But Deirdre mentioned it to me a long time ago."
Harry fell silent. Ron leaned forward over the table, putting his face in his hands once again. After a few minutes the other couples began to pay for their food and leave, perhaps sensing that the show was over. Before long only Harry, Ron and Jon were left in the tea room, with Madam Puddifoot and the two waitresses staring at them apprehensively.
"Go and see what's happening in there," Harry overheard Madam Puddifoot whisper to one of the girls, pointing to the ladies' room. The girl disappeared inside.
At that moment a shadow passed in front of the windows of the shop, and Harry heard the sound of fast-falling footsteps, as if someone were running past in front of the store. Jon had heard it too, as he stood and moved to the door, opening it and stepping outside. They looked in opposite directions – Harry toward the end of the street and Jon back toward High Street. Jon shouted, "Deirdre!" and Harry spun around; he could see Deirdre running up the street. As he and Jon watched, she reached High Street and turned out of sight, back toward the center of town.
Jon took a step to follow her, but stopped and turned the other way. Harry, curious, followed him.
At the end of the street was a copse of trees. Jon walked up to it, staring intently into the shadows. It seemed unnaturally dark within the copse – much darker than normal for this time of day, even for a cold, cloudy February. "What are you looking for?" Harry said quietly to Jon.
"For me, I suspect," a deep, quiet voice, one Harry recognized, said from the shadows, and a figure moved forward.
It was Firenze. Harry felt a chill of apprehension run along his spine. If there was nothing for Deirdre or the centaurs to hide, why had she met with him secretly like this, as it was beginning to appear she indeed had. And how did Jon know Firenze was here within the copse?
"What did you say to her?" Jon asked in a steely voice, as Firenze drew to a halt a dozen feet from the pair of them.
"It is not your concern, Jonathan Crown," Firenze said calmly, his deep blues eyes fixed upon Jon's.
"I think it is," Jon disagreed.
"Does it have something to do with Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked suddenly, unable to hold back the question any more.
Firenze looked slowly at Harry. His blue eyes, so expressive, gave Harry the impression that Firenze was in pain somehow, but a pain that he nevertheless bore proudly. It didn't make any sense – what was Firenze hiding from them?
"Harry Potter," he said, his deep blue eyes somehow conveying what Harry felt was genuine affection. "You have come far these past years since I first met you. You have witnessed the return of the Dark Lord and his servant, his rise to power and the death of many on your side, including Albus Dumbledore, and recently, the Dark Lord's apparent demise."
"Apparent?" Harry repeated. "Then you do not consider him to be destroyed?"
"The death of such a powerful being cannot help but be written in the workings of the heavens," Firenze replied, shaking his white-blond head. "We have seen no such sign there, nor any portent."
"So he is alive," Harry said, finally as sure as he could be of it. "Did he fake his death, then? Was that part of his plan, or did Neville defeat him as he said?"
But Firenze shook his head again. "I cannot tell you the answers to these questions, Harry Potter," he said solemnly.
"Why not?" Harry asked quickly.
"Because I do not know the answers to them." At Harry's look of skepticism Firenze continued. "True divination is not Sibyll Trelawney's games of guesswork, suggestion and self-deception. We centaurs peer dimly into the shadowy realm of the future. We do not prophesy: prophecy is a vain human attempt at wish fulfillment. Understand the signs and portents of that which is to come has always been our aspiration." Firenze's tail swished back and forth; he appeared agitated.
"I can speak no more of this, Harry Potter. Jonathan Crown," he said, turning back to Jon. "That which Deirdre sought from you is between you and her alone; I am not a part of it. She wished my insight on the matter, but I can no more give her that than I could tell Harry Potter what I do not know." He turned away from them and vanished into the copse of trees.
"Wait –" Harry began, but Firenze was gone even before the word escaped his lips. He looked at Jon for several long seconds, then turned and began trudging back to Madame Puddifoot's. Jon followed him.
"What was that about, what Firenze was saying about you and Deirdre?" Harry asked as Jon caught up with him and they walked together back toward the Tea Room.
"Just –" Jon hesitated, and Harry could tell that the American was as unsettled as he'd ever seen him. "Just a personal matter between me and her," he finished softly.
"Oh." They walked on in silence for several seconds. "You don't want to talk about it, then?"
"Not really." Jon gave him a small smile. "It's not like you'd probably care to tell me about you and Ginny snogging."
"Oh, right," Harry said, feeling somewhat abashed. But what would Firenze have to do with Jon and Deirdre snogging each other? Harry wondered.
They arrived at the Tea Room. Madam Puddifoot and the two waitresses were watching Harry and Jon approach from the doorway.
"If you're quite done here," Madam Puddifoot said, trying to sound stern but only managing to be shrill. "The girls and I would like to call it an evening." She bustled into the back of the shop, leaving the two waitresses to finish off up front. Ron was still sitting alone at the table where they'd left him, looking morose.
"Sorry," Harry and Jon both said as they re-entered the shop. Jon fished out a handful of Galleons and handed them and his ticket, which had been lying on the table where he and Deirdre had sat, to his waitress.
"Would you be a dear and take care of the bill for me?" he asked her. "The extra is yours."
"Oh!" the girl looked at him and the coins, smiling in delight. "Thank you, sir!" She hurried off as well, followed by the other waitress and closing the door to the back room behind them
Jon turned to Harry. "I'm going to see if I can catch Deirdre."
"She could be halfway back to Hogwarts by now," Harry said, thinking how long it had been since they'd seen her run by.
"Maybe," Jon said, heading toward the door. "But I have to try. I'll see you later." To Ron he said, "I hope things are okay between you and Hermione." Ron nodded glumly but said nothing. Jon left the shop and walked briskly up the street and out of view.
Harry sat down across from Ron. "What did you say to Hermione to make her run into the ladies' room?"
"It's not important," Ron said evasively.
"Obviously it was," Harry argued, "if she ended up running away because of it."
"All right, all right," Ron said irritably, "It was about – him."
"You mean Jon? Again?" Harry said incredulously. "Didn't you two get it settled what she thinks of him?"
"We did," Ron said, sitting up. Now that he was actually talking about it his moroseness had left him, replaced with high indignation. "No worries there. But when he and Deirdre came in she started carrying on about them. 'I wonder if they're really a couple,' or 'Do you think she's pretty too, Ron?' All I'm trying to do is have a nice tea with her," Ron finished heatedly, "and she's off worrying about what's going on with them!"
"That's not true, Ron!" Hermione had reappeared at the far end of the room, followed closely by Ginny. "I just asked you what you thought of them together here!"
"And I told you!" Ron retorted. "I thought we were here for us, not for them!"
"I think you're both mental," Ginny said, sounding very annoyed with the whole thing.
"Who asked you?" Both Ron and Hermione snapped at her.
Harry, not wanting to get into the argument, began looking around, anywhere but at Ron and Hermione. As he did, however, he caught a tiny movement slithering along the floor – too small to be a snake, and barely noticeable, but once his eyes focused on it he realized what it was: the tip of an Extendable Ear.
"Guys," he said loudly. "Hey, guys!" When they finally looked at him, he said, while bending down slowly and pointing to the tip of the Ear, "Why don't you continue this on the way back to school, if you have to argue?"
Following Harry's finger, Hermione's jaw dropped in shock when she saw the Extendable Ear. Ron cursed, and Ginny laughed wryly. Silently they turned and walked toward the door while Harry, grabbing both his and Ron's tickets, dropped enough Galleons on them to cover both plus a generous tip for all three women.
Twilight was gathering as the four of them entered High Street for the walk back to Hogwarts. None of them spoke for a long time as they walked past the town's shops, many of them now closed.
"Well," Hermione finally said, sounding pragmatic. "That certainly puts things into perspective."
"Nothing like an eavesdropper to make everyone clam up, eh?" Harry said, grinning.
"Right," Ginny agreed.
"We wouldn't have even gotten into it if Jon had still been here," Ron rationalized. "Where'd he go, anyway?"
"He ran to catch Deirdre, remember?" Harry said. "You were sitting right there, Ron."
"Oh, yeah…" Ron said. "I guess I wasn't paying attention."
They turned onto the carriage road that ran alongside the western and northern walls of the school grounds.
"Jon and Deirdre must be inside by now," Ginny said. "They had quite a head start."
"Oh, yeah," Harry said, suddenly remembering the Marauder's Map ring. "I can show you how the ring Jon made works – we can find out where they are." He looked around to make sure that no other students were behind them. Then, bringing out his wand, he tapped the ring and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The title appeared in the air in front of them in bold red letters, followed by the three-dimensional image of the castle. Hermione and Ron both gasped.
"Wow," said Ginny, in awe.
"Yeah, it's something," Harry agreed. "Watch this – you don't even have to find the person on the map, it can move right to where they are. Where's Jon Crown?" Harry asked, and the image swept, not into the castle, but toward the Forbidden Forest, and into it, until their viewpoint came to two figures moving deeper into the trees. One was labeled "Jonathan Crown" and the other "Deirdre."
"Why are they going into the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione exclaimed. "Haven't we told them how dangerous it is!"
"That never stopped us," Ron pointed out.
"Maybe they're going to talk to the centaurs," Harry guessed. "Deirdre just talked to Firenze – there might be a reason for her to talk to Magorian, or even Bane. Come on!" He hurried forward, with Ron, Hermione and Ginny trying to keep up.
"Harry, wait up!" Ginny protested. "We can't go that fast in these clothes!" They were, of course, still in their best dresses. Harry slowed enough for them to keep up, but he kept looking behind him impatiently, urging everyone to keep up.
Just outside the school gates he tapped the ring again, saying "Mischief managed!" to hide the ring, then turned east and headed toward the Forbidden Forest. "They entered the Forest almost straight ahead of us," he pointed to its edge, nearly two hundred yards from where they were.
"Harry, we don't have much time before curfew," Ron warned him, looking at his watch. But Harry wasn't listening. He wanted to know why Deirdre and Jon needed to go into the Forest. If, in spite of what McGonagall, Lupin, and even Firenze said, they had business with Bane, he wanted to know what it was…
At the outskirts of the Forest Harry stopped again and reactivated the Map. "Where is Jonathan Crown?" he asked, but the ring only buzzed. Jon was off the map. Harry quickly asked where Deirdre was, but the ring buzzed again.
"Gone?!" Harry said, dumbfounded. "Where could they have gone? They can't have Apparated away."
"Maybe they're out of range of the map," Hermione suggested. "Or maybe Jon's made himself and Deirdre undetectable to it, somehow."
"How could he do that?" Harry demanded.
"Harry, he made the ring, didn't he?" Hermione pointed out. "If he had something to hide, why would he give you a ring you could use to detect him, no matter where he was at Hogwarts, unless he had a way to defeat it?"
"So you do think he has something to hide!" Harry said, feeling vindicated. He tapped the ring and muttered the deactivation phrase, then raised his wand and said, "Lumos!" The sun was so low in the sky now there was hardly any light beyond the edge of the forest. With Harry's wand, bright light now shone across the edge of the Forest. "Look!" he pointed at the edge of the Forest.
They could see a small but definite path leading into the trees. "I've never seen this path before," Harry remarked.
"We've — we've never gone into the Forest here before," Ron said, looking warily at the path. "We've always done it near Hagrid's hut."
"Come on," Harry said, starting forward. He got to the edge then turned around. Nobody else had moved. "Don't you want to find out what's going on?" he demanded.
"But –" Ginny began. She looked at Ron and Hermione, then sighed. "Oh, hell. Come on, then," she said, falling in behind Harry.
"We've got less than 15 minutes before curfew," Ron said, lighting his own wand and looking at his watch again.
"Five minutes," Harry said. "Give me five more minutes." He pressed forward, following the path inward.
"Five minutes, then," Ron said, doubtfully. "Or the first spider."
"We're too far north for them," Harry said dismissively. "They were closer to Hagrid's hut."
"They probably wanted to make a meal of him," Ron said, beginning to turn green at the idea.
"Shhh!" Harry hissed suddenly, so low they hardly heard him. "Nox," he whispered. "Ron, put out your wand." When Ron complied, they could still barely see each other; there was a small amount of light coming from in front of them, from a clear 30 or 40 yards ahead.
"Something up ahead," Harry whispered, unnecessarily. They crept forward as quietly as they could until they came upon a clump of bushes through which most of the light they were seeing was showing. He tried to see through the branches, but they were too thick down low to see what was on the other side. Hermione, coming up to one side of the bush, managed to peer around it.
She spun back around quickly, her hands clamped over her mouth. Harry caught her by the arms and mouthed the words "What – is – it?" to her, his face inches from her own, but she shook her head emphatically NO.
Ginny looked around the bush where Hermione had and pulled her head back immediately, her eyes wide. Harry and Ron looked at her inquiringly, but she put a finger to her lips and shook her head no as well.
Harry and Ron looked at each other, then peered around the edge of the bush. Harry very nearly gasped at what he saw – how could Hermione and Ginny not tell them what he'd just seen? There were two centaurs lying on the ground next to each other, apparently hurt or ill! One of them was thrashing around as if in pain, and both of them were breathing heavily.
Harry made as if he would stand, but Hermione clutched frantically at his arm. He looked down at her, opening his mouth to argue, but she stood upright immediately and pressed her other hand over his mouth. She tugged insistently at his arm while Ginny pulled Ron along as well, until they had retreated almost halfway back to the Forest's edge.
"What was the idea of stopping me?" Harry said furiously as Hermione finally stopped and turned to him. "Those centaurs looked like they needed help!"
"No they didn't," Hermione said emphatically. "They would not have liked it if they'd known we were there!"
"Why not?" Harry demanded. "One of them was hurt!"
"No they weren't, Harry," Ginny said. She was trying not to laugh – though for what reason, Harry couldn't fathom. "They were – well, they were…"
"They were… " Hermione's voice trailed off; she was clearly at a loss for the proper words. "Oh, bollocks," she finally said. "They were – breeding."
"Breeding?" Harry said, trying to process what he'd seen and Hermione had just said. "Oh. Oh!" He flushed and looked at Ron, who looked equally embarrassed. "I guess I never thought about how – how centaurs did – that," he finished, falteringly.
"Well, I would hope not!" Hermione sniffed archly.
"Why would they be doing that in the Forest?" Ron asked dully.
Ginny smirked at him. "Where else would they, d'you think?"
"We've got to get back to the school," Hermione said urgently. "It's only a few minutes before curfew!" They hurried back along the path to the edge of the Forest, then angled toward the southward. "We can go in the east side of the castle! If we can get in before the bells finish striking six p.m. Filch can't consider us late!"
"Well, he can," Ron amended. "But at least we'll have a leg to stand on." They hurried along as fast as they could in Hermione and Ginny's fine dresses, past Hagrid's hut, skirting around the Whomping Willow, past the greenhouses and into the eastern entrance just as the bells began to ring six p.m.
Hurrying through the castle's ground floor, the four of them raced into the entrance hall just as Filch was peering at the Naming Scroll, checking for late arrivals.
"Eh?" he grunted, turning as they stopped short in front of him, as he was blocking them from getting at the sign-in book. "What's this? You're late! You're supposed to return to school through the front doors!"
"We thought we saw a unicorn at the edge of the Forest," Harry lied glibly. "We went to look at it, then came through the greenhouse entrance."
"A unicorn, was it?" Filch said in a town suggesting he believed not a word of what Harry had said. "Be that as it may, next time you'll use the front doors, like you're supposed to, and if you're late that'll just be the price you'll pay for sightseeing."
"Yes, sir," Harry said, as Hermione, Ginny and Ron wrote their return times beside their names in the sign-in book. He added his time to the book and the four of them turned toward the Great Hall, where they could hear the evening meal in full swing.
"Stop." At Filch's command they all turned slowly. "Where are these two, then?" the caretaker asked, pointing to two names on the Naming Scroll: Crown, Jonathan and Recaunt, Deirdre, which were as boldly displayed as any of their own, indicating they were somewhere on the Hogwarts grounds.
"Haven't seen 'em for a while," Ron said this time. "They were in Hogsmeade earlier this afternoon, though."
"If you see 'em," Filch snapped. "Mind you send 'em down here. Students are supposed to sign in when they get back in the school!"
"We will, sir," Hermione said, trying to sound respectful.
"Blasted students aren't grateful anymore for what they've got!" Filch snarled, shuffling back toward the north door of the entrance hall. "What we need around her is more punishment – a good whipping to bring the lot of you into line!" He disappeared through the door, muttering about handing out even more severe punishments.
Later that evening, after dinner, they were seated in the Gryffindor common room trying to study, although there was a good deal of gossip going on around them about who'd been seen doing what with whom, and what they might expect to see or not see in the next few months. Jon had not returned yet, as far as anyone knew, and there was considerable gossip about him and Deirdre, although no one except Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny knew they had gone into to Forbidden Forest.
"I hope nothing has happened to them," Hermione said worriedly. "It has been several hours, after all – and they really shouldn't gone … where they did."
"What I'd like to know," Harry said, "is what was going on with all the Aurors hanging about in Hogsmeade. I must've seen four or five of them watching us as we walked through town on our way to Madame Puddifoot's. Maybe Tonks'll know…"
"I didn't see any of them," Ron said, pushing his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook away from him tiredly.
"I did," Hermione said, looking up from the book she was studying, Advanced Transfiguration. "But only one; Harry saw four or five of them. That's an awful lot of Aurors in Hogsmeade – they didn't have that many there when Voldemort was supposed to be around."
"Right," Harry said feelingly, hoping his point had been made. "That many Aurors in one place is pretty unusual, even for the Ministry. I wonder, now, if they were watching us – or maybe Deirdre, or even Jon."
"Maybe we ought to say something," Ron suggested, looking at them seriously. "You know, to McGonagall. I mean, they shouldn't be out this late, should they?" It was nearly eleven p.m., well beyond any reasonable time for most Hogwarts students to be wandering about the grounds.
"Maybe," Hermione said, leaning forward over the table to keep her voice low, "Jon's off with his car, wherever he's got it now."
"Maybe he's showing Deirdre the back seat," Ginny said with a smirk, and Hermione reddened.
They finally left off studying, almost a lost cause at the late hour, and joined in the various speculations about which students (and even some teachers) were doing a bit of snogging, and with whom. It was after one a.m. when Harry and Ron finally said goodnight and climbed the stairs to their dormitory. Jon had still not shown up, and Harry had agreed (at Hermione's insistence) to report him missing if he didn't turn up by the next morning. He and Ron changed for bed and slid under the covers, the day finally done.
Harry had a very strange dream that night. He and Ginny were chasing Ron and Hermione, who were centaurs, through the Forbidden Forest. Harry was shouting "We need to stay together!" to them, but they were afraid of something, he thought, that kept driving them on ahead of him. "Wait for us! We'll be back for you!" Ron and Hermione were shouting to him over their shoulders as they galloped away, faster than Harry could run. In the confusion, he'd let go of Ginny's hand, and now she was nowhere around. He was standing in the Forbidden Forest, all alone. Apprehensive, Harry turned around on the spot, looking around him for some clue as to which way to go.
Hearing a rustling of branches behind him, Harry turned to see none other than Albus Dumbledore walking toward him, his wand lighted and held before him, so that his face was illuminated by its whiteness.
"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore said to him pleasantly, as if they had come across each other strolling through on of the school's corridors rather than in the middle of the Forbidden Forest.
"Hello, sir," Harry said. "I'm glad to see you." And truly, he was; he had no idea of where to go from here, wherever he was.
"Feeling a bit lost, Harry?" Dumbledore had seemed to read his mind, something Harry was now sure he was quite capable of doing. It didn't occur to him that Dumbledore should be dead. He was here – alive – and to Harry this was sufficient for now.
"I'm afraid so, sir," Harry admitted. "I've been looking for Voldemort's Horcruxes."
"Here, in the Forbidden Forest?" Dumbledore seemed amused by that idea.
"No, sir," Harry shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know where they are, any of them. We think we found an artifact –"
"The Helm of Gryffindor," Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I had wondered for some time whether that was merely a legend or not. It seems," he nodded, smiling, at Harry, "that you and your friends have investigated quite thoroughly, and your efforts have paid off. "I am very impressed," he finished.
"But we haven't been able to find it yet," Harry said, not wanting to disappoint the Headmaster, especially after all the effort they had put in examining memories in the Pensieve, including his obtaining the critical memory from Horace Slughorn.
"A mere technicality, Harry, I assure you," Dumbledore said bracingly. "Once we've proven existence it is merely a matter of examining each piece of evidence until the one that leads us to our goal is found. After all," Dumbledore said, spreading his hands wide. "Once you know a forest exists, the existence of trees is a foregone conclusion."
"Yes, sir," Harry said, not completely understanding. "But it can be like finding a needle in a haystack."
"Ah, touché, Harry, touché!" Dumbledore chuckled, appreciatively. "In any case, then, shall we assume that you are willing to accept my help in finding Voldemort's Horcruxes?"
"Yes," Harry said simply. "I would."
"Splendid!" Dumbledore beamed. "We'll begin, then, whenever you feel ready." He turned and began to walk away from Harry, the light of his wand fading more quickly than Harry expected – in moments he had disappeared into darkness.
"Sir?" Harry called out. "Professor Dumbledore?" But there was only darkness surrounding him, and a feeling of coldness, now that he was alone again.
He sat up suddenly, finding himself in bed, in cool darkness. It was still the middle of the night, and he'd been dreaming, he realized. Sighing, Harry lay back down and was asleep again within seconds.
The next morning Harry and Ron appeared, almost too late for breakfast, in the Great Hall. Hermione was there, reading the Daily Prophet. When she saw them she waved; Harry and Ron came over and sat down, murmuring their good mornings as they began filling platefuls of breakfast.
"I saw Jon this morning," she said as they began eating.
"Where was he last night?" Harry asked, pouring milk onto his cornflakes.
"He wouldn't say," Hermione shrugged, looking down the table, where Jon was sitting across from Ginny and some of her friends, chatting.
"Filch is going to have his hide, I'll bet," Ron predicted, following her gaze.
"He's already had a go," Hermione said. "He came in here this morning and practically dragged Professor McGonagall out to the entrance hall to show her where Jon and Deirdre's name were written in the sign-in book just after ours, the time only a minute or two later."
Harry frowned. "Filch talked to us for a minute or two after we signed in," he said. "How come we didn't see them?"
"I know!" Hermione said, wide-eyed. "I asked Jon about that, but he just said, 'Hermione, you're probably just wrong about the time.' I know I'm not, though," she added pointedly as Harry looked skeptical.
"So what happened with Filch and McGonagall?" Ron prompted.
"Oh, she just told Filch he was probably mistaken," Hermione said, folding up her copy of the Prophet. Ron suddenly reached across and snatched it from her grasp. "Hey!" she cried.
"Look here!" Ron pointed excitedly to the article he'd seen:
Gringotts Lowers Vault Tournament Fee to 50 Galleons
"Excellent!" Ron said. "That's much more reasonable than a hundred Galleons!"
"Have you got 50 Galleons, Ron?" Hermione asked in a flat voice.
Ron looked at her, scowling. "That's not the point," he said, but sighed dispiritedly. "Oh, what's the use? I'm never going to get a hold of that much gold."
"Ron," Harry said hesitantly. "You know I've got –"
"No," Ron said firmly. "I've got to find a way to do to this on my own. I've got an idea on what's going on with that Vault, and once I've got that and the fee I'm going to have a go at it."
"What's your idea on the Vault?" Harry asked.
"I'm not saying yet," Ron declared. "But I've got some ideas. I'll know more after we go to the next Round."
Round 10 of the Tournament was only a couple of weeks away, at the end of February. Jon had suggested they could go in his Corvette, but Harry still had no idea what he'd done with the vehicle, or where it was. All of them had been too busy with their N.E.W.T. studies to go to the previous Round, and if Snape was watching for them to go so he could inform the Ministry Aurors about Jon's car, they might have to Apparate there rather than flying.
Thinking about this, Harry realized he would also have to do something about Snape's Imperius Curse on Ron. He'd never actually checked for the Curse; it seemed so obvious what Snape had done, but before he could bring a charge like that to McGonagall, or even Lupin, he'd have to be sure he could prove them. If he couldn't find a way to keep Ron from Snape's clutches, they might have to forego traveling to the Round.