13.

The King's Illusion

The quills scraped against the papers and the fire crackled, engulfed the common room in a din of low murmurs of sweet relaxing noise. Hermione tucked her hair back behind her ear, leaning her chin on her palm, and sighed.

Harry watched her pour over the potions essay and felt that he could no longer focus on his. His eyes flicked constantly towards her as he pretended to be lost in thought. Their eyes met and she allowed a faint smile to pass over her lips.

"Is there something wrong, Harry? Do you need help?"

"Oh sure, you help him but not me!" Ron guffawed angrily.

"He isn't begging for it! And besides, you ask me to do it and not to help you do it." She retorted.

Harry shook his head. "No, it's nothing. It's fine, the essay's just brutally tedious… Now, what I was thinking was about that strange man."

"You mean that Kirkland fellow?" Ron asked, poking his finger with the quill.

"Yes."

"Oh, you worry too much. He'll be leaving soon enough." Hermione said.

"No, well, I didn't tell you this but the other night I went to the library…" Harry launched into a recollection of his misadventure two nights before.

Hermione arched her eyebrows. She had not even taken notice of the book before. A group of first years stood and left to their dorms. The girls, flocking together and yawning, their eyes batting, giggled complacently. Ron nodded and Hermione turned to him, her essay abandoned.

"Come to think of it, the other day I saw that man talking to no one," he said and described what he saw through the crack in the doorway.

Harry constantly looked at Hermione, as if she would spill her secret lessons with him at any moment, but she kept her lip tightly pressed together.

"He is very strange, I admit it." Hermione said at length.

"Yes, but what I think is that he isn't just strange but he's important." Harry realized that only he of the three knew about the mark on his forearm. "—And anyway," he continued, deciding against revealing that just yet, "If a book with his picture screamed at me and he went through such lengths to remain hidden, there but be something important or dangerous to hide."

"Or, perhaps, he just doesn't want to be public. You off all people must understand how publicity can be annoying," Hermione said.

"Are you defending him?" Ron asked, "You're just doing that because you think he's attractive."

"I am not! And he is not attractive," Hermione's cheeks flushed bright red.

Ron mumbled something that sounded like "Lockhart".

Hermione's cheeks continued to redden and she lowered her face, so that her hair fell in around her cheeks and sheltered her embarrassment. Her brows furrowed together. "He's a good person," she muttered.

"How do you know?" Ron shot back.

By now the common room had cleared out. The only person left was a second year snoozing on a couch far away from them, her hand on her temple and her books still resting on her lap. Her chest rose and fell evenly, her eyes fluttering beneath her lids to give the impression that she dreamt.

"You've never been more than a few hours with him, and I don't recall you speaking to him. Unless you count the time he held you back to praise you." Ron continued in response to Hermione's silence.

"If you must know, and I was ordered to keep this secret, I had a lesson from him. It was nothing more than a few simple spells and tips. Really, it was nothing," Hermione rattled on, so as not to be interrupted, "and the whole time he was very supportive. He did not even once berate me, he didn't admonish me instead he helped me, and was incredibly patient. He's old, too. He wouldn't reveal his age but if you look into those strange eyes you realize at once that he's so much older than you'd think. Even after all that he spoke to me about something that I will never forget but that I will never, ever, tell you a word of it." She fell into a steamy silence, her arms crossed.

Ron stared at her and then turned away, curling his lower lip in and gently biting it. His teeth appeared under the soft pink flesh, like pearls. Harry sighed heavily, indicating that it was his turn to speak.

"Hermione, since you decided to tell us, I may as well tell you something I've held back. I knew you were at the lesson. I didn't trust that man so I stayed behind to eavesdrop… And I didn't want you to go because of what I saw." He stopped dramatically, waiting for them both to show interest in the important bit of information he prepared to reveal.

"Well, what is it?" Hermione asked, quickly losing patience.

"I saw," he lowered his voice even though there was no chance of being overhead, and said; "The Dark Mark on his arm."

Ron blanched.

Hermione was not shocked whatsoever. She only nodded.

"I know." She said.

Ron turned his pale face to her. "You know?"

"Yes, I know."

"How?"

"He told me."

"And you… still think he's good!?" Ron spat the last word, craning his neck forward in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I do!" Hermione said. "He showed me the mark first thing I got in. He rolled up his sleeve, and told me that there would be no tricks. I didn't trust him at first. In fact, I was terrified. But as I got to know him… well, I think that people can change."

"I doubt he has." Harry said, sighing.

"You know what?" Hermione exasperated, standing up and collecting her things. "I'm tired of you judging someone on their past and their background and not who they are and what they do! I'm going to sleep. Good night." She stomped up the stairs, jerking the girl on the couch awake. The girl snorted and scrambled after Hermione, rubbing her eyes and dragging her feet. Hermione scolded her for staying up so late and went into the girl's dorm.

Harry and Ron couldn't meet eyes. They sat moodily for some time, until, Harry cleared his throat again. "Maybe we should take a look at Arthur… And at that room you saw him talk to no one in."

"Sure."

Harry rushed upstairs, dropped off his things, and returned with his cloak. He and Ron huddled underneath it and quietly exited the common room, taking quiet steps through the halls and holding their breaths when someone passed by.

The halls stretched out into the nighttime. Heavy clouds pregnant with rain hung overhead, dragging the sky with them. Their robes brushed against the floor and aside from the hums and groans of the castle there was no sound. Ron ushered Harry to the room he passed, and Harry slipped his hands from under the cloak and slowly, steadily, pulled the door open and peered in. Inside, along with darkness, they saw nothing.

"Harry!" Ron whispered and elbowed Harry, nodding to the left, where the room continued. Harry nearly broke his neck trying to see.

There, on the other side of the room, Harry and Ron laid eyes on the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. She sat on a chair draped in white fabric, used to keep dust away when it was not being used. Her face was a perfect oval, hardly a blemish spotting her clear, gentle face. Her eyes, almond shaped, and at rest, gazed strictly forwards, blinking gracefully at times to indicate that she was very much real. Her hands, carved of marble, were before her in the folds of her chest. Her soft lips were round and her hair was tied up and bound by ornaments, brushed away from her face, and shifting vaguely. Yet, when she moved, she revealed whatever was behind her. She was translucent. Her body was made of an ethereal substance unreal and cold. Harry and Ron stumbled back, trying not to stare. She was not a Veela, they knew, but she was human—somewhat similar to the Geisha of Japan.

They did not think of Geisha, of course.

They continued, shaking off the strange feeling of the woman, and found a door open. Golden candlelight poured through. Harry and Ron stopped, watching it, waiting for the caretaker to spring up, hunting them down like a dog on a hunt. Instead, no one emerged.

Harry and Ron stepped forward cautiously, glancing in.

With his back to them, Arthur sat, looking distantly out the window at the star-strewn sky. His hands were kept on his lap, like the woman, and they heard him huff.

"Come over, I knew you'd come. You know an Invisibility Cloak is useless against me, especially you, Potter."

Thank you again for the reviews! Please keep 'em coming, etc, etc.,... But really, thank you so much for your support. I wouldn't have gotten so far without you.