Disclaimer: Characters and settings (apart from Elmsworthy, who takes offence at being lumped in with scenery) belong to JK Rowling and the Warner people. Yay them.

ooOOoo

Chapter 77

The next morning, Harry woke in mild bewilderment and a bedroom that wasn't his. It took him a moment to orient himself in time as well as space – he'd just woken from a dream where he'd gone back in time to the age of the Vikings where Simon had eight legs and Dumbledore (in a broad-brimmed hat and an eye patch) was explaining that it was only because Simon was in fact the mythical Norse horse Sleipnir and had to go back to his owner Thor because lightning deliveries were running late, and Harry had been horrified to meet Thor and find Thor looked a lot like Lucius Malfoy should a Malfoy ever appear in overalls with a clipboard and a quill behind his ear as he said, "Rum old weather we're having, innit?" Lucius rode away on Simon as Dumbledore tried to explain to a distraught Harry the significance of signing your name in Ogham runes.

Harry woke up almost weeping in frustration because Simon hadn't even said goodbye and now he was stuck in the wrong time and people were expecting him to throw axes at Luna to cut off her braids and Luna didn't even wear her hair in braids and Harry was more likely to chop off her head than her braids, as Hermione kept telling him in her irritated haven't-you-ever-read-Asgard-A-Saga? way as she fried bacon down in the Potions classroom. Harry tried to tell her all copies had been checked out of the library, and the Severus-badger sneered and took a gazillion points off Gryffindor for not being prepared for the lesson.

It was almost a relief to find he was in Lupin's spare bedroom, with Sirius curled up on the rug next to the bed in his Animagus form. When he looked around he couldn't see any axes, which was reassuring. And possibly lucky for Sirius. He was pretty sure he hadn't just lost a gazillion points, too, but couldn't shake the nagging feeling he needed to check the giant points hourglasses in the Entrance Hall to make certain.

Then Harry remembered the barrier and the potions and the riding lesson he was meant to be giving this morning, and relief congealed back into that frustration from the dream, given an added swig of bitter as he glanced again at the black dog sound asleep on the floor.

Odd…

He sniffed experimentally. Yes – the smell of bacon seemed to have followed him out of the dream.

He got up as silently as he could. He didn't want to deal with Sirius this morning. There was an old dressing gown hanging behind the door. Rather than risk the susurration of getting dressed waking Sirius, he put on the dressing gown, picked up his clothes, and left, closing the door behind him noiselessly.

Remus was already in the parlour. "Good morning," he said softly. "Thought you might be hungry."

There was bacon and eggs and toast on the table, along with pots of jam and honey and a pot of tea steaming away cheerfully. Remus was sipping coffee, but Harry had long ago learned that: a. staff had some sort of unspoken rule which prohibited students drinking coffee, and (after the few times he'd tried it) b. coffee smelt a lot better than it tasted, and Harry preferred a nice cup of standard Muggle Yorkshire tea instead.

His stomach growled like a wild animal.

Remus smiled, his gently-creased face creasing in a gentle smile. "As we don't currently have a full moon shining on me I'll take that as a yes from you."

Harry found himself smiling back. "Looks great," he said. "Oh, and good morning." He realised he was still not dressed. "Er, can I borrow your bathroom?"

Remus nodded towards a door.

Harry dressed in the small bathroom as quickly as possible, splashed water over his face and the back of his neck in an effort to wake up, and re-emerged to find the werewolf spreading honey over toast that smelt wonderfully buttery.

"Sleep well?"

"Mm. Weird dreams…" Harry yawned widely and scratched his hair. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and jumped.

"Anything prophetic?" The werewolf's eyes crinkled at the corners. He leaned back in his chair and took a big bite of toast, using his thumb to wipe honey-sticky crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

"Not unless we're expecting Simon to turn into Sleipnir and have Thor come back to reclaim him."

"As a matter of fact, Sleipnir was Odin's horse."

"Oh. Maybe it's a good sign for Dumbledore. He was Odin in the dream. But it was Thor who took Simon – and he looked like Lucius Malfoy."

"Really?" Remus frowned.

"Well, if Mr Malfoy ever wore overalls and carried a clipboard like a Muggle deliveryman and went on about the weather."

Remus chuckled. "I think we're safe from that one."

"Pretty safe, yeah." Harry combed his fingers through his hair then gave it up as futile.

"Is Sirius awake?" asked Lupin. He shook his head before Harry could answer. "As neither of you have stormed out the door yet I'll take that one as a no."

Harry sighed and slumped down on the sofa. He picked up a plate and began shovelling food onto it, suddenly realising he was ravenous. "I suppose it's no use telling you you've got better scrying abilities than Trelawney."

"It's called observation," Remus told him, his eyes twinkling as he filled Harry's cup. "One lump or two?"

"I hope that was about sugar," Harry said. "I've got to give a riding lesson today – Simon doesn't tend to ask how many lumps you want – he just dishes them out. Er," he added, worried Remus might take against Simon (or take against the horse even more), "that was a joke. Sort of. Simon might give out a nip when he thinks we're misbehaving but he's pretty gentle considering the damage he can do."

Remus nodded. "It would be against the interests of his herd for him to damage his babies."

Harry snorted tea through his nose and had to mop it off his chest. He grimaced and blew his nose. "Yuck. Tea's not meant to go through the sinuses…"

Lupin gave him his best professorial nod. "I've been told that."

Harry shook his head, still amused and horrified at the mental image of a prim Simon in a poke-bonnet like some Victorian nanny pulling around a giant pram with Harry, Draco and Luna inside. "His babies? Professor…"

Remus seemed to be trying hard not to laugh. "Well, maybe babies was a bit much, because he can take orders from you and Malfoy. But from what I've read horses can be quite rough with each other."

"Only when they're really upset about something. Or trying to change the pecking order. Otherwise they're generally quite gentle," Harry countered.

"I suppose it's easier for you to see that. The only horse I've encountered remains to this time quite strenuous in his efforts to kick my head in."

"It's, um, the, er…"

"The werewolf thing?"

"Um. Yes."

Remus nodded and turned his mug in his hands. Perhaps it was possible to scry with coffee – Harry had heard that in the old days they used a bowl of water and a few drops of ink, although Trelawney had sneered at it (which might mean there was something in the theory after all). "It's always the werewolf thing. But you keep going… things could be a lot worse."

"Yeah, you could be a werewolf and be stuck behind a barrier with Death Eaters outside waiting to hex you to Kingdom Come," Harry said cheerfully, then hoped he hadn't overdone it with the morbid humour. Not everyone was waiting to die, after all.

Remus slanted a smile at him. The morning light slanted across his eyes, bringing out bubbles of green and amber. Today his eyes looked very human. "True. But if I was…"

"You'd what?" Harry prompted, suddenly very serious about hearing Remus' answer.

"I would… keep going. There are always little things. Like breakfast and conversation with a friend. And the prospect of a fine day in Scotland."

"Bonus," said Harry, nodding. The sky outside was already very blue, unusually so. It would be nice to ride Simon up into the hills, get away and let the breeze blow through his hair, just him and his horse. Maybe he would skip lessons and go later. "I've got to give Professors Dumbledore and Flitwick a riding lesson, but do you think anyone would notice if I stayed out longer and took Simon for a run? It's been a while since he was taken out for some decent exercise and he's getting bored just running around on that long rope in the meadow."

He'd merely been thinking aloud, but Remus said, "I'll write you a note excusing you from classes if you like."

"Thanks." Harry gave him a grateful smile.

"Are you sure you want to miss Potions this morning? It should be something special."

"Er, I think I can live without one Potions class." He wished he could tell Remus the real reason, that it could be his last day in the world and he wanted to spend it relaxing, not having to worry about everyone else. He wanted something selfish, just for a little while, just as payment in advance.

Remus probably thought he was worrying this would be the last time he'd ride Simon.

He was almost right – it would probably be the second-to-last time.

Harry made a conscious effort to wrench himself away from such negative things. It looked like it was going to be a good day. He should make the most of it.

As the man said, live each day like it's your last. You never know when it will be.

ooOOoo

After breakfast Harry remembered the potions.

Harry nearly had an aneurysm when he got to the small room where the anti-Voldie potion was being made.

Had been being made: Everything was dismantled and, well, gone.

Harry stood in the middle of the room and tried to calm himself down. It wasn't quite panic and it wasn't quite rage. It was an uneasy alliance of the two that sent his heart racing and his ears roaring. The world seemed to be pressing in around the edges and he wanted to hit something and run to Dumbledore's office and demand to know where the bloody potion was.

"Hello. There you are."

Harry spun on his heel to see Hermione, Ron and Elmsworthy. Draco was behind them, trying (without much success) to look over Ron's rangy shoulder into the room.

"It's gone," he said, breathing hard.

"Sorry," said Hermione. "We tried to find you at breakfast…"

"I had breakfast with Professor Lupin and that git who claims to have my best interests at heart."

"Oh. Um. Well, about the potions…"

Harry scrubbed his hands across his face. The tiredness which had almost disappeared after a decent night's sleep was back, weighing him down like a Lethifold. "…Are gone. Yes. So I see. Who took them?"

"Er… Dumbledore did," said Hermione tentatively.

Harry said some words that had Draco raising both pale eyebrows.

Elmsworthy frowned. "Is that actually possible to do? Not really a branch of magic I've had anything to do with, but –"

"Oh, just tell him," snapped Draco, pushing his way into the room. He'd had enough of being away from centre-stage, evidently.

"Tell me what?" Harry sighed.

"Dumbledore got the potions, but we have some more," Ron said.

Harry frowned. "What? But we didn't have any more mistletoe base, and –"

Hermione raised her hands. "You know how it was only one part anti-Voldie potion added into ninety-nine parts of water? Well, that left buckets left over."

Harry did the maths. It was very simple. So simple he couldn't understand how he could have missed it. "I've been very tired…"

"We know," Hermione soothed. "It was like this…"

Elmsworthy, who'd been bored and in need of something to experiment with, was the one who'd siphoned off enough proto-anti-Voldie potion late last night to make a spare bottle for Harry (and probably several gallons for himself – because who knew what the Slytherin got up to in his spare time when he wasn't actively blowing things up?). He'd given it the phial to Hermione, who was supposed to take over the watch at nine thirty in the evening.

When Hermione returned from her little mission of hiding the spare proto-potion, he'd also pointed out that he'd done a few calculations in his free time (he pulled out the paper and showed Harry which didn't help his ego, because he wasn't sure what half the symbols were), proving on paper at least that they only needed three cc's of the barrier-breaking potion per tree, so why not take some from the stone bottles just in case something happened because you never knew, y'know? So Hermione (who had access to the bottles) had done so.

And maybe, Elmsworthy had pointed out, warming to the subject of working around Dumbledore, maybe they could get through the wards on the trees by chucking a dart at each tree – darts from the Slytherin common room he and Hermione and Ron (because Ron was getting annoyed at all the time Hermione was spending with the Slytherin) had modified last night into something Elmsworthy and Hermione agreed were similar to the tranquillizer darts used by Muggle zoo veterinarians on large animals such as rhinos and lions.

Harry agreed that the darts were a great idea and was grateful if secretly appalled Elmsworthy knew so much about what he, Hermione and Draco were planning.

Hermione had already solved the problem of getting under Voldemort's skin. She'd put a shattering spell on the glass bottle – that way the glass would smash on impact and the shards would drive the potion in. It only needed the barest pinprick, and the thing about glass was that once it was broken it was extremely nasty. And the spell Hermione put on the phial must have been on nodding acquaintance with Dark magic, if it wasn't Dark magic itself. Harry was impressed. Almost as impressed with the way she produced two little brown phials from her pocket – one for him, one for Draco – to pair the ones Dumbledore had taken to break the barrier. "They're colour-coded. Brown for 'barrier', pale violet for 'Voldie'," she told him. "And here are some darts to deliver the potion through the tree wards. Three each, although Tyrol suggested you be the one to use them, Malfoy – he said you're a bit of a wiz at darts. Oh, and I've got the third bottle for the tree on this side of the barrier. Ron and I will apply it at a set time – make sure you get yours onto the two trees at about the same time relative to the difference between the outside and the inside of the barrier, okay? I've worked out the time difference – choose one particular time and I'll make sure Ron and I are at the tree putting potion on it at the correct time for here."

"Er… right. I'd forgotten about the time difference," Harry confessed.

"Granger hadn't. Marvellous work there," Elmsworthy said.

Hermione went pink.

"Get your own bloody girlfriend," said Ron.

"Ron!" exclaimed Hermione.

Elmsworthy gave Ron a rakish grin that amazed Harry, who wouldn't have thought the Slytherin had it in him. "Jealous, are we?"

Ron's scowl melted and he smiled sweetly. Then gave Elmsworthy a big hug. "There we go. Next time you want a cuddle with Hermione, let me know. I'll stand in as her agent."

Elmsworthy shook him off. He had gone as pink as Hermione. Draco had his hand clamped across his mouth to stifle a laugh. "So if I want a kiss…?" said the older Slytherin.

Ron pressed his hands to either side of Elmsworthy's face and leaned forward. Elmsworthy jerked back just in time.

"Have I made my point?" asked Ron.

Elmsworthy glared back in a way that said he had.

Before there could be out and out warfare (or Elmsworthy upped the stakes by finding out just how far Ron would go to prove a point) Harry said, "Do you know where the other barrier trees are?"

"Not yet," said Hermione.

"But we thought about going looking after the first lesson," said Draco. "You want to come?" he asked Elmsworthy and Harry.

"I think I have to," sighed Harry. "It's going to be a busy day."

"Tell me about it. I have the last of my votes to buy up – or threaten for. Elections tomorrow."

"You're really going ahead with that?" said Elmsworthy, shaking his head.

"Keeping up morale." Draco smirked. "Besides, if people think I'm not plotting over the election they'll start worrying I'm plotting to do something else."

"Ah. Good point. And yes, I'll come. Where are we meeting?"

"Front doors," said Hermione. "Straight after Potions."

"I might have a little cleaning to do, but can you wait five minutes?"

Harry nodded. "Sure." It would be worth it to have Elmsworthy come into the Forest with them. "Bring your bandoleer of potions."

"You got it."

"Thanks for getting the anti-Voldie potion for us, by the way. I really appreciate it."

"So we're square for the fig slice you gave me?" Elmsworthy asked.

"Uh, actually we were square before that," Harry said. "It was a gift."

Elmsworthy scowled. Apparently Harry had missed the point.

"All right," Harry agreed hurriedly. "We're square. Even stevens. All debts paid in full."

Elmsworthy relaxed and Hermione gave Harry a smile like he'd just done a clever trick.

"Just out of curiosity, Granger," said Elmsworthy, "why don't you use your cat to send a message to the people in Hogsmeade?"

"As a matter of fact I asked the Headmaster about that myself," she replied, her mouth deepening at the corners in a momentary grimace. "He said he'd rather I didn't."

"Didn't say why either," said Ron, who must have been there for the conversation.

"Probably doesn't want to risk your cat getting caught with a message on the only night there's a chance for Dumbledore to ambush the Dark Lord," Elmsworthy said.

"How the hell do you know all this?" Harry exploded. "The protective spells, the link to the barrier, the whatsyoucallit threshold quotient…" He calmed down with some effort. "I mean, do you have some sort of insight into Voldie's head or something?"

"No, that's meant to be you." Elmsworthy didn't give any sign he was joking. He sighed and rubbed his hands together. "Look, it's easy when you sit down and think about it. The spells he's using are based on solid arithmantaical formulae. You can work out fields from that. And the spells he used are on record in the History of Magic section – and in the old newspapers. You can work out other stuff from there. As for Granger's cat, that's basic psychology. Dumbledore has this one chance to get You-Know-Who. He doesn't want to botch it, because if he does then You-Know-Who gets away again and goes on to wreak merry hell throughout the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. Dumbledore doesn't like killing people and I don't know why he's been waiting all this time as if you, Harry, were meant to do the dirty work for him…?"

"Prophecy," said Harry faintly, deciding why not go the whole hog and let Elmsworthy know everything. "Me or Voldie have to die."

"Oh. I didn't think Dumbledore the sort to put his faith in mumbo-jumbo. Unless it was a really accurate prophecy, which have been documented, but to be honest I've never looked that deeply into them… Is it specific?"

"Not beyond the one-can-only-live-if-the-other-dies bit." Harry was reeling slightly at the fact that there was one subject in which Elmsworthy admitted to less than omniscience.

"Uh. I see your problem. There can be only one – very Highlander. Ever see the mov- okay, off topic again." He sighed. "No wonder the latest Dark Lord has it in for you, Potter." Elmsworthy looked sympathetic. "Um… where was I? Oh, right. So I guess Dumbledore got sick of waiting for you to act as sacrificial lamb or whatever and is going to do the decent thing and tackle the Dark Lord himself. 'bout bloody time. I mean, what's he on about, having people a hundred years younger than him and with a fraction of his power running around after an evil bastard like Lord V?" He looked at his watch. "Anyway, as for me, I've got to get on for my next class."

"Us, too. Potions," said Hermione, who was resting a hand on Harry's arm. He guessed his stress levels were becoming a little obvious. He looked around and it suddenly hit him, the fact that these people were clever, good people; they were his friends. Why was he worrying them? Why not relax a little and enjoy their company?

"Professor Lupin said it was going to be a good one," Harry said.

"Is he taking it?" asked Hermione.

"No. He's got the seventh-years for DADA." Elmsworthy hummed. He smirked, apparently at nothing. "So. Five minutes after first class, front doors? I want to learn these location spells of yours, Comrade."

"No problem," said Draco, who'd warmed to Elmsworthy after hearing himself described as a wiz at darts.

"I'll see you lot later, then," said Harry. He waved his pass. "I'm going to give Simon some exercise. It's been a while since he got taken out over the hills and he must be getting bored with the meadow."

"Enjoy," said Draco. "Make sure you don't tire him out too much – he's got to give Dumbledore a lesson straight after lunch."

"Oh, is that when we're playing riding instructors?" Harry wasn't sure he liked the idea of giving lessons to his professors, but then it was really Simon who'd set the tone for it. "Huh, y'know what Luna said once? She said that a really good horse that is kind, safe and easy for beginners to ride is known as a 'schoolmaster'." He grinned, feeling calmer again. The prospect of a ride cheered him up, and Hermione's hand on his arm had reminded him that he wasn't alone. He had friends. Living, breathing, warm friends who were capable of taking care of themselves: their lives didn't necessarily rest on Harry's actions. He wondered why he hadn't seen all this yesterday, but supposed it was because he'd been so tired. "Can't really see Simon in robes."

"He's got the sneer down pat," Elmsworthy pointed out. "Don't get him started with detentions. He might hand you over to Filch for brushing him wrong."

"Huh. Muggles must have a different idea of what constitutes a schoolmaster," said Ron. "Kind? Safe? Whatever happened to putting our lives in mortal peril because the schoolmaster's a secret followers of You-Know-Who? Or giving Gryffindors detention because we breathe wrong?"

"Those were the good old days," said Draco, heading out the door. "Got to move with the times."

They followed, speculating whether Dumbledore and Flitwick would find Simon kind, safe or easy. Hermione was sure they would be fine. McGonagall had told her that the headmaster had some previous experience on horseback, although admittedly that was the better part of a century ago. And Simon liked Flitwick…

Ron and Elmsworthy were betting chocolate frogs on who would be bucked off first.

"Harry, mate," Ron whispered, "let Dumbledore have first go. I've got five frogs that he'll be first to fall – within the first three minutes. So here's a packet of Instant Itch… just sprinkle a bit under the saddle, okay?"

"Sure, Ron." Harry had his fingers crossed as he took the packet, deciding to save it for something better.

ooOOoo

He had a full stomach and his friends were taking care of the potions side of things. Speaking of Potions, he had a note in his pocket excusing him from the lesson and a beautiful morning to spend outside. Feeling more optimistic than he'd felt in a long time, Harry whistled tunelessly through his teeth as he strolled up to the paddock.

Simon was in a good mood, too. He was a little too happy, perhaps, and Harry had to ride him in a few circles before he convinced him that today was a good day to stay on the ground and let Harry stay on his back, rather than send Harry soaring through the air to be smashed back into the ground.

After a few minor bucks, Simon took the point.

Harry turned the horse's head towards the hills and they set off at a canter which swiftly turned into a gallop. Harry stretched forward and laughed as the wind pushed back his hair, the air cool on his scar, and his laughter seemed to encourage the horse faster and faster until they were almost flying.

He rode Simon back on a loose rein. Simon wanted to go faster, but Harry gently insisted on a walk, not wanting Simon to hurt his legs by galloping too much on the hard ground. Simon settled for a brisk, long-legged stride that covered the ground almost as fast as a trot and Harry relaxed into it and enjoyed the view of the mountains and lake with the castle rising beyond it.

Simon was reluctant to return to the paddock, but Hagrid had been up in his absence and there was a big pile of sweet-smelling hay waiting, which stopped the horse from sulking. Harry brushed him down quickly, checked the long legs and hooves (shoes all on nice and tight as far as he could tell, although he wasn't sure if there was any significance in the way the nails were beginning to rise where they came out of the hoof) and left the cover off. It was a warm day and he'd be back in a few hours. Simon would be fine. He gave the horse a final pat on the shoulder and left Simon to his hay.

The others were waiting for him at the doors. It must be more than five minutes after the end of the lesson, because Elmsworthy was there. Hermione waved and Harry waved back, his heart lifting at the sight of his friends.

ooOOoo

A/N: Yes. At long last. In the next chapter we have the riding lesson. Mwa-ha-ha-haa!