Harry awoke some time later, feeling much better. The sun had gone down, and everything was tranquil. He raised his left hand and waggled the fingers gingerly. They were stiff and his knuckles still hurt, but the pain was mostly gone. He squinted at the shadowy blotch that was his formally injured hand. Though it was indistinct, at least there was only one of them. He dropped back to the bed and stared at the high ceiling. Harry had been in the hospital wing so many times that he literally knew every crack above this particular bed. After a while, he drifted into an uneasy sleep, punctuated by occasional forays into semi-consciousness. It was quite late when he heard the voices he first mistook for a dream.
"Harry? Harry? See, he's sleeping! I told you this was a bad idea…honestly! Sometimes I wonder why I..."
"Oh, shove off! You were willing enough in the Common Room."
"That's because you told me he'd be awake."
"He is," Harry said, brusquely.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered, "I thought you were sleeping!"
"Who could sleep at a time like this?"
"Er, sorry, mate," Ron said apologetically. "We just wanted to make sure you were alright! We heard that you were dragged into the lake by the squid. You must have really made it mad!"
"I wasn't dragged in by the squid…if it wasn't for the squid; I'd probably still be down there."
"Then what happened? You didn't just fall in, did you?" Ron asked, trying not to laugh and failing. Harry struggled, rising to an elbow. As soon as he was sure they were alone, he dropped back to his pillow with a grunt.
"I…" Harry winced at the sound of his own voice. "I hit something in the air…there was an invisible bird of some kind, and I crashed into it. If Professor Walken and Minnie wouldn't have been there, I'd have probably died."
"An invisible bird?" Ron said.
"Minnie?" Hermione added.
"One at a time!" Harry complained. He groped for his glasses, which were on the table next to him, and finally managed to get them on his head, only slightly askew. He looked from Ron to Hermione, who were now only slightly fuzzy.
"I don't know anything about the bird, except I hit it and it was big…and I mean big. It gave me a broken nose and a concussion, and that's not counting how I almost drowned after I flew straight into the lake, or the broken fingers."
"Oh!" The look on Hermione's face almost stopped Harry's heart for the second time in the same day. He decided to go on, for his own good.
"Minnie is the witch who's been hanging around with Professor Walken."
"No way!" Ron said, looking astonished. "You met her? Better keep it from Seamus or he'll never leave you alone."
"That can wait, Ron," Hermione scolded, "did you hear what he said? He hit an invisible bird! There aren't supposed to be any of those around here!"
"Not only that, it was carrying a letter!" Ron immediately forgot about Minnie.
"What did it say?"
"I don't know," Harry said, glumly, "Walken and Minnie got hold of it. But I did get this…" Harry leaned over the side of his bed with a shudder and a groan, and shook his trainer. A small blob of green dropped into his palm. He tipped it into Hermione's hand, and she studied the stamped-in crest in the weak moonlight.
"Hmm. Have you looked at this?"
"No. I've been sleeping, remember?" Hermione opened her mouth, and then closed it, and then opened it again.
"Well, go on then," said Ron, irritably, "if you know something, spit it out!"
"It's just…well, I've seen this before on some letters…"
"And?" Ron asked shortly.
"And they were addressed to Malfoy."
"I knew it!" Ron nearly shouted, before he remembered where he was. "What would Malfoy be sending with an invisible bird?"
"He wasn't sending anything," Harry said, flexing his hand. "I got hit from the left side and the castle was on my right. He was receiving something."
"Do you think we should tell Headmaster Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. Before Harry could answer, Ron spoke up.
"No. No, because we've got Malfoy right where we want him, now."
"I fail to see how we've got him where we want him when don't even know what we've caught him at. I mean, I know he's an arrogant prat, but we don't even have any proof that he was doing something wrong."
"Oh, yeah," Ron muttered, "because people send things with invisible owls all the time."
"Would you two knock it off? In case you hadn't noticed, I've just been slapped in the face with a ruddy bird, tossed into an icy lake, tossed out by a squid the size of a house, and shot with some kind of constrictor curse that's left my ribs feeling as if I just went a round with Dudley. And did I mention the bloody concussion and a broken nose?" Everything was silent for a few moments, and then Hermione apologized, followed by Ron.
"Ron," Hermione said softly, "would you mind explaining just why we've 'got Malfoy where we want him'?"
"Look, every time we tell someone that Malfoy is an evil git, they just blow it off, right? And no one knows about this letter but us, right? And Malfoy doesn't know what happened to his owl…only that he never got it. He may send more letters, or they may send more letters, but one thing's for sure – If we go talk to Dumbledore, he'll probably call Malfoy in, or talk to his wench of a mother, and then Malfoy will know the game is up. If we keep this to ourselves, no one will be any the wiser, except us!" Both Harry and Hermione were quiet. Hermione was the one to break the silence.
"That may be one of the most well-thought-out arguments I've ever heard from you. You no longer have any excuse to under-perform."
The door to the infirmary clicked softly and Hermione and Ron both drew their wands. Ron moved directly in front of Harry, and Hermione crouched near the end of the bed. They didn't say a word, and the stifling silence was eerie. Harry was happy to notice that they were using some of the tactics they had worked on in D.A., but that didn't keep him from fumbling for his own wand, which was under his pillow. Soft, light footsteps echoed through the huge room. They paused once or twice, but always came closer and closer to where Ron, Harry, and Hermione were concealed behind the tall, white curtain.
A small, dark figure crept around the screen, and it was a moment before any of the three recognized her. She stopped dead at the sight of three wands leveled in her direction.
"Parvati?" Harry said. Her green eyes grew as big as galleons, and she breathed a single question in a small, wavering voice.
"Is this a bad time?"
"Parvati," Hermione said coolly. "What are you doing here?"
"Hello, Hermione. I heard about Harry and I was just on my way back from the Astronomy Tower, so I thought I'd stop by. Listen, would you mind not pointing the wands at me, because frankly, it makes me a bit nervous."
"Oh," Ron stammered, "uh, yeah, sorry about that." All three of them lowered their wands, and Parvati smiled nervously.
"Not to nitpick," Hermione said casually, "but the Astronomy Tower is on the other side of the castle."
"Well, I took the long route," Parvati said. "What's your excuse?" Hermione bristled.
"The same as yours, I expect." Harry could feel the tension in the air, and from the looks of Ron, so could he.
They spoke awkwardly for a few minutes, until Hermione yawned noisily. "Come on, Ron, it's time for us to get to bed. You should probably be getting along as well," she said to Parvati.
"I will, in just a bit. Honestly, Hermione; I'm not going to steal him from you!"
"Hold on," Ron said, "where are we going?"
"I'm going to bed," Hermione said stiffly. "I don't know where you're going, but it had better be someplace back in the Gryffindor tower. It's well after curfew." She grabbed Ron's robe and pulled him along behind her.
"Well then," Harry said. "Uh…Ron, Hermione, I'll talk to you tomorrow, about the letter thing."
"Maybe I should go," Parvati said, her radiant smile faltering as she watched Ron and Hermione walk away. Hermione was muttering under her breath, and the giant room with its stone walls and floor amplified and garbled her words. Some of them were making it back to Parvati and Harry, however, and it was very obvious that Hermione was not pleased.
"No! I mean, Hermione and Ron have already left, there's no use you leaving as well. Then I'd be all alone." Parvati's sly grin returned.
"Well, we can't have you all alone, can we? Anyway, Saturday just wouldn't feel right without you passing out on the sofa in the Common Room, so I had to come down and see you. So, what's the damage?"
"Oh, It's not too bad," Harry said bravely, "a few broken fingers, a few broken bones in my hand, a broken nose, a concussion…"
"Ooh! You poor thing! What happened?"
"Well, you see, it happened like this…"
The next evening, Madame Pomfrey informed Harry that he could go back to his dormitory. He was happy to be released, but the day and a half of total relaxation had done him some good. He felt refreshed, and even a little anxious, and he was ready to get something done, even if it was just homework. Ron had brought him The Light Side to Dark Magic, and he'd finished it up just before he'd been turned loose from the Hospital Wing. It didn't dwell on magical reciprocity as much as he'd thought it would; that was only a single chapter. The other eleven focused on the various arguments over what made a spell "dark" or "light". It had become apparent to Harry somewhere around chapter five that the line was not clearly drawn.
"Well, if it isn't Potter the Porpoise. Have a craving for a little winter swim, did we?"
"Shove it, Malfoy." Ron said, half-heartedly. He was concentrating on getting his nose back to normal, with moderate success. It was still about four inches long, but at least it was normal-shaped. Connor's was distinctly piggish, and he was starting to show signs of frustration. Occasionally, deep red sparks would trail from his wand's tip, marking the movements.
"Is that the best you can do, Weaselby?"
"Mister Malfoy!" Draco's face dropped at the sound of Professor McGonagall's severe voice.
"Yes, professor?"
"Don't take that tone with me! Are you planning on sitting with the Gryffindors now?"
"No!" Malfoy was scandalized, and his pale cheeks flushed.
"Then get back to your seat, and quit trying to cause trouble."
"Later, weasel," Draco whispered menacingly.
"Whatever, Malfoy."
"Ron, I'm proud of you!" Hermione said brightly. "You hardly argued with him!"
"I don't need to," Ron replied. "I'm already coming up with something better."
"Ron…" Hermione warned.
"Never you mind. I may need your help, though."
"Are you out of your mind? I'm not helping you get back at any one! I'm a Prefect! And so are you, you might remember. That sort of thing is supposed to be below you."
"Okay, first of all, nothing is below me when it comes to paying back Malfoy. I'd load dragon dung with my bare hands, if it made him look like the twit he is." Hermione frowned and scrunched up her face at the vivid imagery her imagination was likely producing, and Ron continued, heedless. "You'll help and you know it, so stop with the pointless lectures already. And why are you so quiet today?" Ron turned to Harry, who was considering leaving his nose the way it was for a day, just to see what people did.
"What?"
"You're quiet, mate. Why?" Harry shrugged.
"Nothing to say about it, I guess."
"You're not…you know…are you?" Harry was a little depressed, but smiled.
"No more than normal, no. Thanks for asking."
"Don't mention it," Ron said, and then leaned in so only Harry could hear him. "So what's the story with you and Parvati?"
"The story? There is no story."
"But she snuck out to visit you, mate! She fancies you!"
"Have you been talking to Neville?"
"What?"
"Never mind. Anyway, after the fourth-year Yule Ball, I'm surprised she'll even say hello." They both made an attempt to unobtrusively peek at Parvati and Padma, who were giggling and pointing at each other's noses. Padma caught his eye and smiled, and Harry quickly looked away. Ron continued to stare.
"She's looking at you…oi! Why'd you look away? She's giving you the eye!"
"She's not giving me the eye, we're just friends."
"She snuck out to see you!"
"Maybe, but so did you, and we're not snogging or anything. We're just friends. And anyway, did you see how Hermione got around her?"
"You're telling me, mate. She wouldn't tell me what her problem was either…just kept muttering something about a 'lime-lighting hussy'."
"That's nice; really nice."
"Well, she hasn't been mean to you or anything, has she?"
"Hermione or Parvati?"
"Hermione. Of course Parvati is going to be nice – she's sweet on you." Ron smirked and Harry sighed.
"Just friends, Ron, and no, Hermione hasn't been in the least mean to me." He sighed again, dramatically. "Why's it have to be so bloody confusing? They can write a book on how to turn a snake into a canoe and they can't explain sixth-year girls."
"I'm telling you, she's got something for you. You should ask her to Hogsmeade."
"Have you been listening? The last date we had, I ignored her completely…just like you did with Lavender. You wouldn't go asking her to Hogsmeade, would you?"
"Well, no," Ron admitted, "but that's because she'd say no. C'mon Harry, you have to think she's pretty!"
"Bloody gorgeous," Harry said, before he could catch himself.
"Lavender could be a right pain, hanging around all the time," Ron said, "and that constant giggling could drive anyone mad."
"She's not that bad when she's alone," Harry countered. Ron stopped speaking and stared at him with a funny look on his face.
"Are you listening to yourself? She's sweet on you, and it sounds as if you like her, so what's the problem?"
"When did you become an expert, Ron?"
"Any idiot could see it, and I'm not an idiot, am I?" Harry preferred to keep his opinion on this matter to himself.
"Right, then. We'll see about that. So, uh, what did you have planned for Malfoy?"
"I'm not telling," said Ron with a secretive air. "I'm keeping it to myself until I've got it figured out. I'll need your help though, and probably Hermione's."
"What makes you think we'll get Hermione to help?"
"You've just got to know how to work her."
"You, working Hermione? I'll bet! Hermione would have you out-thought in a minute."
"You'd think so, wouldn't you…I've only got one or two tricks, but they're good tricks." They looked to Hermione, who was trying to help Connor get his nose straightened out. The sparks in the air had apparently highlighted a problem with the wand movements he was using, and, not surprisingly, she had spotted at least one of his problems.
"No, it's like this." Hermione gracefully twirled her wand, leaving a trail of glittering gold that streamed from the end of her wand like a ribbon. Connor copied her movements, and his flattened snout gradually began to straighten out.
After his Defense class on Tuesday, Harry stopped to talk with Professor Shacklebolt.
"Hello, Harry."
"Hello, sir. I just wanted to let you know that I finished that book."
"What did you think?"
"It made a lot of sense…too much, maybe. Before I read it, I knew that curses were always bad. Now I've got all of these ideas running through my head…I'm not so sure. I mean, I'm pretty sure Professor Walken used one on me after…uh, after I got out of the lake, and I think I might have drowned, otherwise."
"That's good, Harry. That means you're challenging conventional wisdom. Aurors have to know and cherish the rules, but the best do so because they know why the rules exist. Just to accept them a priori is certainly acceptable, but to accept without question is to put yourself in a dangerous place."
"I did have one question, if that's alright?"
"Certainly."
"Voldemort told me 'there is no good and evil, only power, and those willing to seek it.' I didn't believe him at first, because, well…"
"Because it came from him, but now it's starting to make more sense, isn't it?" Harry nodded. "Well, Voldemort is no fool, but as was his habit, he took things to the extreme. Issues of good and evil are really a question of philosophy, but there's a grain of truth there. Even bad spells can have good uses, and you shouldn't blind yourself to their uses simply because they're called 'curses'."
"I'd have never thought of it that way, without reading that book."
"Well, that's the point, isn't it? I'm glad that you're thinking, Harry. If you have any questions, I trust you'll ask?"
"Of course, professor."
"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I do have one more class today."
Harry went back to his dormitory, only to find that Quidditch practice had been moved forward, and no one had told him. He was already ten minutes late. With a flick and a profoundly annoyed grunt, he vanished the glass from one of the large Common Room windows and shot out into the gray sky. He turned partially and flicked again, and the glass reappeared. His broom was pulling slightly to the left and downward, and he frowned, thinking of his inadvertent trip into the lake.
He took it easy for the first fifteen minutes or so, and even though Katie must have noticed it, along with his tardiness, she didn't say anything. After twenty minutes, she sent Natalie to fly with Harry.
"Hey, Natalie…I don't suppose you heard about my uh, incident?"
"Oh, I heard. Katie made us promise not to say anything thought…she doesn't want you to develop some kind of fear of flying."
"Fear of flying? Because of one little crash?"
"That's what I said. I told her I've crashed loads of times, and I'm not afraid to get back on."
"Well, if it had just been my fault, maybe, but I hit something!"
"Is that it? They were pretty hazy with the details. What did you hit?"
"I don't know, I think it was an owl. Say, my broom is a little off after the collision, know anything about that?"
"I'd have to look, Harry, but off-hand, I'd say if you want me to do any work on it, you'll need to talk Hermione into helping me, because those things have protection charms on them like you wouldn't believe! You can't even properly detail them without removing a few."
"Great," Harry muttered, thinking of how annoyed Hermione was when Ron mentioned that he'd need her help to get back at Malfoy. She'd expressly forbidden Natalie from doing any kind of work whatsoever on the brooms, and Harry could only imagine her hitting the roof when he asked her to help Natalie in removing the anti-tamper charms. He could always send it back to the factory, but that would take two to six weeks, and unless you had their premium maintenance service, they didn't provide a replacement broom. Harry shuddered at the thought of having to ride an old school Comet. On the bright side, if he absolutely had to send it in, at least it would be back in time for the match against Hufflepuff, which wasn't until February.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"How do you know what a penny is? I thought you were from a wizarding family."
"I'm Canadian, remember? We don't use those silly galleons and the like."
"Oh. What do you use?"
"Loonies, Toonies; regular money."
"Loonies? That's what you call your money? And you call ours silly!"
"Just tell me what's going on!"
"Well, I was just thinking how impossible it's going to be to get Hermione to help you. I'll work on her, but I wouldn't hold my breath, if I was you."
"Just send her to me, Harry. Anyway, if I have to, I'm sure I can get the charms off all by myself. It'll just take me quite a while. If that happens, you may be better off sending it into the factory."
"I really hate to do that. Is it safe to keep in the air?"
"No damaged broom is safe to keep in the air. Is it getting worse?"
"It doesn't seem to be. I just can't let it coast in a straight line…it goes into a dive on me."
"Well," said the graceful, silken-haired Chaser, "that's not good, but if it seems to be holding steady at that level of performance, you can probably keep riding it. Maybe you should push it once or twice today; try to get some performance out of it. Tell me if it develops a shudder or if it behaves erratically." Harry nodded, and Katie's hoarse voice echoed up to them.
"Hey! You two! Quit jawing and seek, already! Potter, I expect to see you up to form by next week!" As they pulled into a search formation, Natalie said, "One last thing – if you do wind that broom up, do it over something soft." She winked and dropped back, and for the first time since the Tri-Tizard Tournament, Harry was a bit nervous about being on a broom.
"Concentrate, Potter. Weasley, Granger, Patil, Longbottom, that filthy American: you are naming the next victims of the Dark Lord. Correct me if I'm wrong…I thought I warned you that I wouldn't tolerate regression in your work."
"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said resignedly. "It must be from the concussion."
"That is a reason, Potter, not an excuse."
Harry gritted his teeth. He'd grasped the inundation technique of Occlumency, but the next step was not coming easy. He was supposed to be able to subvert ideas and emotions completely, but it just wasn't coming. He knew part of it was Snape making him nervous, and when he'd mentioned that during the last lesion, the professor had leaned over his desk and looked Harry in the eye from so close that Harry could smell the sour scent of sweat and smoke that must have been perpetually instilled from countless hours over boiling cauldrons.
"Would you say I make you more or less nervous than Lord Voldemort?" Harry didn't have to reply; as much as he hated Snape, and that was quite a lot, he got the point.
Coming back to his senses, Harry realized that the professor was gazing at him with a look of extreme distaste stuck to his callow face. He renewed his efforts to remove the more relevant information from his mind, and started to go through all of the football rivalries he knew. Manchester United, Manchester City, Arsenal… In five minutes, there wasn't a relevant thought in his head. Of course, he had no idea how he was going to manage to do Occlumency and still remain functional, but for now, at least it got Snape off his back. By the end of the lesson, Harry was totally done in, though he was proud of himself for having made it. He wanted nothing more than a very hot shower and to sleep in his bed. As he rose to leave, Snape mentioned almost casually, "The Headmaster wishes to speak to you."
"Tonight?" Harry asked. The look on Snape's face was answer enough. "Can it wait?"
"No, it can't wait, you arrogant whelp! Get out of my office, and go directly to his!"
Only a short time later, Harry was sitting in the Headmaster's office, which was by now becoming quite familiar to him, and staring at a pair of glasses that looked very much like his. They were resting under a crystal dome on the large desk.
"So, what you're telling me is someone sent these things in to switch with mine?"
"Yes, Harry, or at least that is what we suspect, since there is not enough evidence to prove or disprove the theory. They are, you will notice, remarkably similar to your own."
"Does anyone know who's responsible?"
"Not yet, though we are still investigating."
Harry had his suspicions; he still had the wax seal in a small box in his chest. He just couldn't say anything about it because it would ruin any future plans for getting even with Malfoy. "Does this have anything to do with what happened this weekend?" He fearlessly stared at Dumbledore with a shrewd look in his brilliant green eyes, which were still both ringed with black from the broken nose he'd suffered on Saturday.
"We suspect that the two incidents are related. Without knowing who sent these," Dumbledore tapped the dome over the tainted spectacles with a long finger, "we can't really say one way or the other. The evidence is purely circumstantial and the speculation merely that - speculation. Still, with things the way they are even speculation warrants a hard look."
Harry nodded in agreement and took a deep breath, letting out slowly. Something inside him said that he should be upset, and part of him was. The other part was ruminating over the fact that he'd been a target for so long that this new development was just another day in what had become his life. After a moment of contemplation, he asked the question Dumbledore seemed to be waiting for.
"So what do we do then? I mean, I can't go around afraid to wear my own glasses or put on my own shoes!
"Harry, do you know what a sigil is?"
"It's a type of rune, isn't it?"
"That is correct. Sigils are special because they cannot be altered or duplicated. You've seen them used around you – on our exams as you may have observed, as well as a sign of ownership. They are often used as a signature of sorts on contracts and documents. The Dark Mark that is burned into the arm of every Death Eater is even a type of sigil." Harry was silent, and Dumbledore gazed at him until he realized that the old man was waiting for him to connect things.
"So if I was to learn how to make one…"
"And if you placed it dutifully on your belongings…"
"Then it would be harder to switch them out with things like this," Harry finished, tapping the dome over the phony glasses. Professor Dumbledore nodded and smiled encouragingly.
"I have made arrangements for Professor Flitwick to teach you the necessary spells, and you won't be alone in this endeavor, as he has graciously agreed to allow Miss Granger to assist you. I'm told that she has been capable of similar magic for quite some time, now.
"I won't lie to you, Harry, the Sigillum charm is not difficult to cast, though learning it can be a bit tricky and preparing for it is charitably described as a chore, and most would be a bit more honest. Your first attempts may be somewhat…disappointing. Not to worry, however, as the important thing is that your belongings are easily identifiable to you, and even a simple sigil should do the trick. That isn't to say I don't think you're capable of much more!" Harry looked at his hands nervously.
"When do I start that?"
"Tomorrow, after your last class, if that's acceptable. You don't have to do learn the Sigillum charm, of course, but I thought that you might want a bit of advice on how to deal with this situation. It is, in the end, your prerogative."
"But you've arranged it already!"
"I merely facilitated what I thought would be an agreeable course of action. If you have different thoughts on the matter, I'm more than willing to entertain them."
"No, that's okay. It sounds reasonable to me. I appreciate the help."
"Of course, my boy! Might I also suggest wards on your personal area? I know you and Remus have worked with them in the past, and I would be glad to offer my assistance, should you require it."
"Thanks. I'll let you know if I can't get it. Do you think it's okay to let Ron help?"
"Who you trust is a very personal matter, and sadly, as you know, there is no one who should be considered completely safe. That being said, I think Mister Weasley and Miss Granger would bet two excellent confidants. In addition, I notice that you share an amicable relationship with Mister Colier. Certain…events in his past have made him very sensitive to his surroundings, so it may be to your advantage to maintain a healthy relationship with him."
"I wish you could tell me more about him."
"Alas, I cannot. I'm certain that when he sees fit, he will tell you more about his past. I can tell you that he has reasons to be secretive, just as you would, if you were somehow forced to flee to America." Harry nodded.
"Is that all, sir?"
"It is. One last question – How is the D.A. progressing?"
"It's going well. We have an advanced group that meets later in the week, and as soon as I'm done here, we have a group of beginners. Ron's with them right now…or I hope he is. If he isn't, they're all alone."
"I hear there are even Slytherins partaking in your activities?"
"Yeah, three or four, actually."
"That is excellent news. Solidarity, Harry."
Harry made his way to the Basic D.A. just in time to catch them winding up for the night. Ron didn't seem particularly mad that he'd missed it, and from the small-talk coming from the students, it had been a good lesson. He looked for the handful of Slytherin students, and found them spread among the others, chatting with Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and even Gryffindors.
"What are you looking at," Ron asked, clapping his friend on the back.
"Solidarity," Harry replied, with a grin.
"Hello, Remus." Harry was staring into his mirror, watching Remus walk through the corridor to what looked like the library.
"Hello, Harry. How are your lessons?"
"They're alright. Did Dumbledore contact you about last Saturday?"
"We spoke briefly of it, yes. How are you feeling?"
"Madame Pomfrey had me straightened out right away."
"I imagine she did. I heard there was some kind of attempt to slip you some cursed glasses as well." Harry frowned.
"Next thing, someone will send me poisoned food!"
"Hmm? Oh, no. Attempting to poison your meals, at least those you take in the Great Hall, would be terribly inefficient."
"What?"
"Sorry, Harry, I was just thinking out loud. I suspect you're going to ask me about some of the wards we placed on your house?"
"Well, I was going to ask you if there was any reason the ones we placed on the entrances wouldn't work on my chest and bureau. I think I could manage them on my own."
"No reason at all. You'll have to change them slightly if they're to be used to guard objects rather than portals, but they're well within your capabilities. You may want a hand; it's not necessary, but it would speed things up."
"I think Ron would help me out. Dumbledore's arranged for me to learn to make sigils as well, but I've heard that's really tough. It's not in our charms book for this year."
"That's seventh-year, N.E.W.T. level and beyond, but you ought to be able to handle it. I'm fairly certain I have one of your father's old signets, if you want to see it. We used them to verify letters. I'll post it to you as soon as I find it. I'd have Hermione help you out there, if she's willing. That sounds as if it's right up her alley."
"All I'll have to do is tell her they're ridiculously difficult, and she'll jump on them like they're hers alone," Harry said casually. Remus chuckled.
"Just keep me in the loop, Harry. I don't like this new development, but I'm glad to hear they're taking it seriously, and you're taking it seriously. Keep an eye on the map for names you should know. I'm always here if you need help." Harry nodded and flopped back on his bed, closing his eyes.
Manchester United, Manchester City, Arsenal, Chelsea…"Well, Harry, I must say this is tough, but not impossible." Harry and Hermione were sitting in the Common Room discussing the Sigillum charm. Professor Flitwick was as cheerful as ever when he demonstrated the proper procedure for preparing the base for the signet, and that's as far as they'd gotten today. After their private lesson, Hermione sat down with Harry to explain the rest of the procedure.
"Well, first we have to make the signet, which is what Professor Flitwick was telling us about today. I think for your first one, we should use clay, don't you? I mean, real ones are cast, but that seems quite a bit more difficult…we may as well get the rest down before we spend all that time!"
"Ah, sure, whatever you say." Harry held up the inconspicuous-looking hunk of clay that Professor Flitwick had given them. It was wrapped in mostly-transparent paper that had been enchanted to stay moist. "It was nice of him to give us a bit of this to start off with."
"Especially since it will take a month to make the next one," Hermione agreed. "We've got to cast five separate charms on it, and keep it damp, and it has to be left out to cure before we carve the rune into it…but we don't have to do all that, since he gave us a bit. I suspect the next one we'll have to do from scratch, though. I have a book of runes and what they mean. Would you like to look at that?"
"Er…sure," Harry said, starting to feel overwhelmed. He was remembering what he'd told Remus. He'd mostly been joking, but it was more or less true that the best way to get Hermione to help was to tell her how tricky it would be. "Can you make up your own?"
"Of course! Most prominent wizards end up creating their own, sooner or later. In fact, we spent nearly a month learning loads of them in the fourth year."
"Can I use my father's?"
"No…I'm really sorry, Harry, but you can't use someone else's. That's kind of the point though, isn't it? You can make one like it though…you can have a family seal as well, but I haven't read enough about that yet. I promise I'll look at it more!"
"Don't worry, Hermione, I know you will. So we should probably get to work on ours, right?"
"Well you remember what Professor Flitwick said," she remarked, looking at her closely cut fingernails. "The signet is sealed by the full moon, which is ten days away. Do you think we'll be ready by then?"
"Well, we've got to get it done before someone really does slip something in on me. We'll just try it, I guess, and if we mess it up, we've got enough clay left for one more go at it. Perhaps I should do a few, in case I louse one up."
"That may not be a bad idea, Harry. Why don't we start one tonight, and aim to have the other done on Sunday?"
"That's fine." He suddenly remembered that it was Friday and looked at his watch. "I've got to go, Hermione, I've got to meet Professor Shacklebolt. I wanted to talk to you though, about some things. Will you be free tonight?"
"I have prefect rounds, but there's no reason you can't come with me. If anyone asks, I'll tell them you're giving me a hand."
Harry ran all the way to Kingsley Shacklebolt's office, where the Auror was marking papers. He looked up as Harry entered.
"Hello, Harry. I was beginning to wonder if you'd make it."
"Sorry, sir, I had…"
"A lesson with Professor Flitwick, I know. Not to worry; I'm normally in my office for a quite a while on Fridays. I had something a bit special for you today, so I'm glad you came." Harry looked on expectantly, but didn't say anything. "You've certainly learned by now you can cast some spells without an incantation; simply with wand movements. Normally, you don't want to do that, but there are times that it has its advantages."
"That happened in the ministry," Harry said. "We'd silenced one of the Death Eaters, but he still managed to cast some kind of curse on Hermione."
"That is one such occasion the skill can come in handy. There are others; perhaps you're hidden, under an invisibility cloak let's say," the Auror's eyes sparkled at that and Harry tried unsuccessfully to suppress a grin, "and you may want to cast a spell without giving away your exact location. I value the skill because I feel it's strategically advantageous to be able to cast spells without telling your opponent exactly what they are. It's a good deal more difficult to counter a spell when you can't hear the incantation. Some of your more popular spells will be self-evident in their casting, with the wand movements and such, but even the slightest bit of hesitation on the part of your opponent could be the edge you need." Harry nodded, smiling already, and they got to work. He was with the Professor for nearly an hour, by which time he'd learned to pull off a reasonable impedimenta and a pretty fair conjunctivitis curse without any incantation whatsoever. He considered it one of his most valuable lessons to date. When they were done, he and Professor Shacklebolt discussed The Light Side of Dark Magic, and what made spells 'good' and 'bad'. He didn't come to any new revelations, but he was relieved to discover that Kingsley freely admitted that there was no good answer.
"Usually," the lean Auror said, leaning over his desk, "the best way to determine whether a spell is good or evil is to look at the intent. That's not to say if your intentions are good you can do anything; if you end up setting fire to someone you intended to save, you're still apt to be in some trouble…but do remember this – you don't use a spanner to change a light bulb. Spells are like tools, in that regard: they're dumb. They have no inherent morality, or 'rightness' or 'wrongness'. They simply do what you set them to. Why, if your best friend was acting irrationally and was threatening to hurt themselves, or someone else, would it really be that bad to use the stunning curse, or even the imperious curse?"
Harry nodded. He could see where the professor was coming from.
"Well, Harry, I've kept you too long tonight…I'm sure you have other things to do. I'll see you in class Monday, if not before."
"Thanks, professor…I really appreciate it."
"Anytime, Harry."
Harry had to rush back to the Common Room to get ready for dinner, but he did take the time to practice his silent impedimenta curse on several unwary spiders. None of them stopped completely, as they would have had he done the spell normally, but they did slow down appreciably. He was certain that practice would improve his ability considerably, and excited to try other spells. Perhaps Hermione could help him.
Hermione. There was a subject into which he was reluctant to delve. She'd been very nice to him lately, offering to assist with the Sigillum charm, but the way she'd acted around Parvati still bothered him. He wasn't looking forward to tonight, but after their fourth year, and the misery he'd gone through with Krum, Ron, and Hermione, he was convinced that the best way to handle it was to talk to her sooner, rather than later.
"What's Natalie going on about, wanting to mess with your broom?"
"What?" Harry and Hermione were stalking through third-floor corridors, looking for couples, dare-devils, and trouble makers. So far, tonight had been very quiet, and Hermione had only run into a first-year student who'd gotten lost on the way to the Owlery. Since they sent her off in the proper direction, things were very still.
"Natalie MacDonald has been going on about your broom, and how she needs to repair it, and she'd like me to help. I thought I made it clear that I wasn't going to allow that sort of thing. I'd rather you talk to her, before I have to turn her in."
"Oh. Well, after the collision, my broom is damaged. It pulls down and left. I was hoping she could straighten it out without a return to the factory, but she said she'd need your help."
"I'm not going to get involved in that, Harry! I know she's been tinkering with other people's brooms, and I can't stop that, but I'll not help her with yours."
"C'mon Hermione! She's good! She knows more than our entire Quidditch team put together, and Dean besides. She could probably do it in her sleep!"
"That's all the more reason for me not to allow it. She'll try to slip something extra in and who knows what will happen! You could end up seriously injured, or even killed!"
"That's all the more reason for you to help her! At least then you can keep an eye on what she's doing. Besides, she needs help getting the anti-tamper charms off…she could do it, but it would take a long time. She needs someone really good, and you're the best witch here!"
"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Harry. They have those charms for a reason, and I'm not about to remove them just so you can fly backwards."
"I don't want to fly backwards; I just want my broom repaired! Please, just do it as a favor to me. Come on, you owe me!"
"Owe you? Are you out of your mind? For what?"
"For getting my Firebolt taken away forever when there was nothing wrong with it."
"Oh, be realistic, Harry! We didn't know where it had come from; I thought it might be cursed! How was I to know…oh, fine! I'll talk to Natalie, but no promises. If I don't trust her, she won't lay a hand on that broom, and I'll make sure of it."
They walked in silence for an entire floor, while Harry considered his momentary victory and debated with himself whether he wanted to even mention the situation with Parvati. Finally, he decided it had to be done. He wasted even more time trying to figure out how to broach the subject, until he finally decided to approach it head-on, which hadn't been completely successful for him, but at least it was familiar.
"Hermione?"
"What, Harry?" Harry winced; she still sounded quite angry.
"What's your problem with Parvati?" Hermione's metered footsteps stuttered, and for a while she didn't say anything. Harry was beginning to think that he'd made a serious error in judgment.
"She's not good for you," she finally said.
"What do you mean?"
"She's not good for you," Hermione said again, "she's just…not good."
"May I ask why?"
"All kinds of reasons, Harry! Do you know how much she's in the Astronomy Tower?"
"She's in astronomy!"
"And how do you know she's not up there with a different person every week?"
"Funny you should ask," Harry said, smartly, "I have this map, maybe you've seen it?"
"She only cares about what other people think of her."
"That's not true and you know it. She wouldn't be in Gryffindor if she was that shallow."
"She's a gossip."
"Did she tell you we've been talking at midnight practically every Saturday?"
"Well, no, but…"
"Did she tell you we sit together in Muggle Studies, and that she jabs me with a quill if I start to fall asleep or space off?"
"No, but…"
"She's sitting next to the famous Harry Potter, poking him with a quill, and she doesn't say a thing about it to her own dorm-mate?"
"No! But she told me you were having girl troubles. She asked me what I would do, if I was her! And then she went and told me to 'keep it to myself'! As if she was going to keep it to herself. That's a gossip! You don't just go around advertising that sort of thing!" They walked in silence for almost an entire floor.
"Did she tell you who I was having problems with?" Harry asked, not knowing if he wanted Hermione to answer. Hermione stopped walking.
"No. I don't suppose I was important enough to know that. I mean, with Parvati on the case, why would you need to talk to me about it. I'm just…I'm just…" Hermione's voice cracked as she started to cry softly to herself. She tried to walk away from Harry, who was calling for her to stop, and then started to run, but she must have had problems seeing because she bumped into the wall and spun around, where Harry finally got a hold on her robe.
"Hermione! Listen to me!"
"Wh-wh-why should I," she wailed, with her eyes squinted tightly shut and tears streaming down her face, "you've got P-Parvati to talk to about your p-p-problems!" Harry leaned over Hermione and wiped her cheeks off with his sleeve.
"Is that what this is about? You're upset that I didn't talk to you?"
"I'm your f-friend. Why don't you want talk to m-me?"
"Because it was about you," he said softly.
"Wh-what?"
"It was about you. That's why I was in the Common Room at midnight. That's how we got started talking."
"S-s-so when she asked what I'd do…"
"She was asking because it was all about you. You probably were the only one she told. You know that you and Ron are the best friends I've ever had; I'd never even consider replacing you…either of you."
"Why did you have to talk to Parvati about me?" Harry didn't say anything. Instead, he looked at the wall above her, suddenly sensitive to the warmth that was spreading over his cheeks.
"Oh…I'm so stupid!" Hermione quickly tried to compose herself, wiping her face with her sleeve and catching her breath.
"You don't have to be sorry," Harry said uncomfortably, "and you're not stupid."
"I do, and I am! I'm supposed to be this clever witch and it was right under my nose!" Harry realized that he was still holding Hermione's robes, and he let go as he stepped away. Hermione paused to catch her breath. "Did she…help?"
"Yeah, she helped."
"And I've been so mean to her! Honestly, Harry, something's the matter with me!" Hermione captured him in a crushing embrace, and Harry stood awkwardly, holding his friend.
"There's nothing the matter with you, Hermione." He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he waited for her to make the next move. It was true that Parvati had helped Harry, but it still wasn't doing him any good to hold Hermione so closely, smelling her hair and skin. He felt the familiar burning from his heart to his stomach, and wished she would break away. The thought that Ron might suddenly make an appearance also occurred to him…how would he explain that away? After a lifetime of agony, she released him and he stepped away, almost gratefully and none too soon, for not a moment later, Ron rounded the corner.
The hallway was dim and Hermione had managed to get herself in order, and thankfully, Ron didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. If he was suspicious that Harry and Hermione were alone together, he didn't show it.
"Oi."
"Hey, Ron," they echoed. Ron fell into step, and they walked three-wide down the corridor without speaking for a bit.
"So, what's up then?"
"Oh," Hermione said casually, "just talking to Harry about a…girl he, um, fancies."
"Really?" Ron stopped suddenly. "What girl is that?" Harry knew that Ron had Parvati in mind, but he figured Hermione probably didn't know that.
"No one in particular," Hermione replied, rather dreamily, "just this one and that one."
"This one and that one," Ron mused. "That sounds about right. You, and Katie Bell, and my little sister!" The situation could have turned nasty, but at the last moment Harry realized that his friend was in fact joking. He answered back with a wide grin.
"I'm easy to love, I suppose, and there's plenty of me to go around."
"Plenty to go around?" Hermione asked, a look of mock disgust on her face. She punched Harry lightly on the arm. They headed back to the Common Room, walking slowly, talking, and laughing as if the small things in life were the only things that really mattered.
The next day, after Quidditch practice, Harry and Hermione worked on creating a signet from the charmed clay that professor Flitwick had provided. Harry was looking dubiously at the small, misshapen lump that was intended to be a stag, but really looked more like a hare with veiny ears.
"Don't worry about it!" Hermione was saying, as he frowned at his creation. It took him nearly an hour to create, and he wasn't pleased with it in the least. "I'm sure it will look totally different when it dries! They always shrink, you know, when they're made of clay. That's why the best are cast!"
"Well, we can be thankful I didn't cast this…it would have been a whole day ruined."
"More like three - and anyway, we don't know even know it's ruined! Give it a chance! Besides, it's your first try, and no one ever gets it right their first go-round."
"At this rate, I'll be lucky to get it before someone slips me some enchanted underwear."
"Now, really, what could enchanted underwear possibly do? Never mind; don't you dare answer that…I don't want to know. We'll just keep on with this, Harry. The important thing is to get the charms down…you can always make a new signet. Look…I meant to ask you something a little, uh, personal." Harry looked up from his hare-faced stag.
"What's that?"
"Well, er; that is, I was just…oh!" Hermione was turning red at an alarming rate.
"Just say it, Hermione," Harry said quickly. He hadn't intended to sound harsh; but he was curious and had spoken quickly. Hermione took a deep breath and rushed an entire sentence into one word.
"DoyouwantmetotalktoParvati?" Harry stared at Hermione for a moment or two before answering.
"No…no, thanks for offering, but I don't even know how I feel. I mean, I'd be lying if I told you that I wouldn't like help, but there're other things to consider."
"What 'other things'?"
"Well, Voldemort for one."
"Harry, what does Voldemort have to do with you and Parvati?"
"Well, I'm making her a target just by being around her. I mean, it's bad enough with you two, and if I didn't know you and Ron better I'd seriously consider just calling the whole thing off, just because I'm afraid of what he might try to do to you."
"Calling the whole thing off? Are you mad? Now is when you need your friends more than ever!"
"Snape said that every friend I have is just another target for Voldemort, and for probably the first time ever, I think he may have a point."
"Harry, don't you realize we're in danger anyway? Our only chance is sticking together…of course Voldemort is going to target us; it's either us or him!" With a pang, Harry was reminded of the prophecy. He still hadn't told Hermione or Ron what it was, even though they knew it existed.
"That's what Ron said. It's just that I'm trying hard but the Occlumency isn't working for me, and I can't help but think of you and Ron..."
"And Parvati," Hermione added in a small, quiet voice.
"Sometimes," Harry admitted sheepishly.
"Look, you'll have to work on that, but you can't just push us away; we won't let you. You know what Ron would do, and I won't stand for it either." After a pause she looked up with a half-smirk, "and I'm fairly certain Parvati would be hurt. You don't want that do you?"
"That's not fair!"
"Life isn't fair, Harry. Anyway, even if you pushed us all away, would you really stop thinking of us?"
"Sometimes I hate it when you're right."
"You're lucky to have us, Harry. Throwing us away would be just plain stupid. You're not stupid, are you?"
"Occasionally, I wonder."
Hermione leaned over the table as if she was going to kiss Harry on the cheek, and perhaps thinking better of it, changed to the tip of his nose at the last moment. It was a very friendly kiss, and it made Harry feel quite a bit better.
"So do you want me to speak with her?"
"Just take it easy on her. I'll talk to her myself." He didn't have to worry about looking for Parvati because he knew where she'd be later that night, and he figured it would do him some good to spend some time thinking before he muddled things up even further. He briefly considered asking Ron for advice, but then he thought about how Ron and Hermione were together. Their relationship seemed natural enough to him, but based on how he felt, he was certain Ron was say otherwise. Ron had said that Parvati fancied him; even Neville had, now that Harry thought back, but that didn't make anything easier for him.
Somehow, it didn't seem right that he was more afraid of Parvati than he was of Voldemort.