Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six - Lovelorn

Harry left Dumbledore's office full of determination. He had promised to exert a greater effort in obtaining the uncorrupted memory from Slughorn, and he fully intended to make good on that promise. But Slughorn was elusive. At the end of every class, he was so quick to snap his briefcase shut and jettison himself from the room that he was usually out of sight before his students had finished clearing out their cauldrons. The time for private parties was over, as well. Neither Blaise, nor Hermione, nor any other member of the Slug Club had received so much as an invitation to lunch with him. There could be no doubt of his intentions. He was avoiding Harry.

Feeling desperate, Harry tried appealing to his friends for advice on the matter, but they were too distracted by their upcoming Apparition examination. Those students who would turn seventeen on or before the twenty-first of April had the opportunity to demonstrate the skill before a Ministry official.

Harry had already managed to apparate once during their lessons. Since he would not turn seventeen until the summer, he had little to do but practice and wait. Blaise had apparated twice successfully, though he wasn't satisfied with his performance. Apparently, he and Nell had placed a wager on whether they would pass the exam on their first attempt. Strangely, it was Millie who was the most sanguine about the experience, though she had never managed to apparate herself.

"It's not like we're being graded," she remarked when Harry asked her about her blasé attitude. "If I don't pass the first time, I'll just take the exam with you this summer."

"You don't care about Apparition because you can fly," Blaise grumbled as he continued practicing his turns, as they had often seen Professor Twycross demonstrate during their lessons. Harry thought he looked very much like a ballerina preparing for an audition.

"Jealousy looks good on you, Blaise," Millie replied.

While his friends continued their bickering, Harry dragged over his copy of Advanced Potion Making. He turned the pages listlessly, his eyes merely skimming over the notes in the margins. He wondered if he should ask Snape for ideas on how to get close to Slughorn. After all, Snape had been one of Slughorn's top students.

He had other reasons for wanting a private conversation with Snape. He'd had a nagging sense of unease after his last meeting with Dumbledore. A curse on the teaching role for Defense Against the Dark Arts had been long talked of, but never confirmed. Now Harry knew for certain that the role was cursed. Cursed by Lord Voldemort, himself. And Dumbledore knew about it.

Harry first began having doubts about Dumbledore after he viewed Morfin Gaunt's memory. Dumbledore had gone to great lengths to meet with Morfin in Azkaban before he died, and yet to Harry's knowledge, he had never attempted to speak to Sirius during his long imprisonment. If he had, perhaps Sirius would have been released much earlier. It was a circumstance that didn't sit right with Harry, but he told himself he was being sensitive for losing Sirius barely two years after his escape.

But that feeling of doubt came crawling back after this latest discovery. Dumbledore kept hiring teachers for a position he knew to be dangerous. He had hired Remus and Moody… And now Snape. He knew it would do no good to warn him now, but his faith in the headmaster had been shaken.

He had continued to flip through the pages of his textbook, still ruminating on these thoughts, when he paused. His eyes had fallen on a previously overlooked note scrawled along the bottom of a page.

Sectumsempra (for enemies)

Obviously, it was some kind of spell, probably another invention of Snape's, though Harry had no idea what it did. He continued to stare at the page as the common room slowly emptied of students. The hour was getting late, and though Millie retired to her room, Harry, Blaise and Draco remained at their studies. The boys had developed a habit of staying up late, waiting until Crabbe and Goyle had already fallen asleep to avoid any confrontations.

Finally, Colin and Herb, exhausted from preparing for their OWLs, were the last to climb the stairs to their own dormitory. Harry was left quite alone, with only the pirouetting Blaise and a yawning Draco for company.

Without warning, there came a sudden loud crack! Blaise screamed in fright and Draco nearly toppled out of this chair. Harry alone remained calm, setting his textbook aside as he surveyed the elf that had appeared before him.

"I have come to deliver my report on Gregory Goyle, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby announced proudly, bowing so low that his nose nearly brushed the carpet at Harry's feet. Straightening up, the smile fell from his face as his large, green eyes fell on Draco, who was still recovering from the shock of Dobby's abrupt arrival.

Draco looked just as uncomfortable upon seeing his former house-elf again. He mumbled an incoherent greeting and directed a look of bewilderment at Harry.

"It's okay, Dobby," Harry said. "Draco's alright, now. He doesn't live with the Malfoys anymore."

"Ah…" sighed Dobby, looking askance at Draco. His expression morphed from one of alarm to curiosity, then concern.

Before anything else could be said, Blaise had sufficiently recovered from his alarm to shout, "Hang on! Did you just apparate?"

"Yes, I did," stated Dobby.

"Inside Hogwarts?"

"That is where we are standing, yes," Dobby replied, looking at Blaise as though he was concerned for his mental stability.

"But that's impossible! No one can apparate in or out of Hogwarts! We needed special permission just to practice!"

"I am an elf," Dobby replied, as though this should explain everything. He then turned back to Harry, continuing with enthusiasm, "I have been following the Goyle boy night and day, as you ordered, Harry Potter!"

"Hang on, night and day?" asked Harry worriedly. "You mean you haven't slept?"

"Oh, no," Dobby replied, chuckling, "I have a job to do, after all. I meant to say that Winky and myself have taken turns to track Gregory Goyle."

"And have either of you found anything?" Harry asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

"The Goyle boy is breaking no rules that I or Winky can discover," Dobby related, "Most days, he merely attends classes, eats in the Great Hall, and sleeps in his dormitory…"

"But what about the Come and Go Room?" Harry pressed. Catching Draco's confused eye, he amended, "I mean the Room of Requirement? Have you found out what he's doing in there?"

"No, Harry Potter," Dobby said regretfully, "I am afraid that is impossible. I tried to enter the room while Gregory Goyle was inside, but it was always barred. The other elves say that it is impossible to trespass while the room is in use. You would have to know the exact purpose of the current occupant to follow them inside."

"Tough luck, Harry," said Blaise. "It was a good idea, though."

Dobby squirmed with excitement, his squeaky voice calling out over the interruption, "But, but! Winky was able to peek inside! When the Goyle boy entered the room, she looked through the open doorway. She says she saw a very large room, filled with all sorts of things!"

"What sort of things?" asked Draco, now perched on the edge of his seat.

Dobby was so excited to tell his tale, he didn't seem to mind being questioned by a Malfoy. Hopping from one foot to the next, as though his tiny body was insufficient to contain his energy, he said, "Stacks upon stacks of old books, broken antique cabinets, rusted suits of armor… and Dobby thinks… I mean, I think that I know what the room is! Elves have used the Come and Go Room as a storage space for years, Harry Potter! Students, too. There are many that have used the room to hide things they wished to get rid of."

"And you think Goyle's been going into this… this junk room?" Harry asked, "But why? Is he trying to hide something there? Why would he need to keep going back?"

Dobby shook his head, his large ears flapping against the sides of his face. "That remains a mystery, Harry Potter. Since I do not know what Gregory Goyle seeks in this room, I cannot follow him inside."

"That's alright, Dobby," said Harry, leaning back into his chair, 'You did good work. And Winky, too."

Dobby beamed with pride, promising to tell Winky that he said so.

"That's all well and good," said Blaise after Dobby vanished with another crack! "But you should be focusing on how you're going to get that memory off of Slughorn, Harry."

"Leave Goyle to me," said Draco. "We used to be friends… Well, sort of… I'll see if I can't figure out what he's doing in the Room of Requirement."


Despite this promising report from Dobby and Draco's reassurances, Harry found it difficult to sleep that night. He knew that Blaise was correct. He still had not thought of a way to approach Slughorn. But his mind kept drifting to Goyle, and what he could possibly be doing in the Room of Requirement…

Harry decided to consult Snape the following day. The only trouble was, he couldn't find him. He wasn't teaching a class. He couldn't be found in his office either. Harry even tried the staff room without any luck. He was suddenly struck by the realization that his professors must have rooms in the castle in which they slept, but he had no idea where this could be. Growing more and more frustrated, he was about to give up, when he encountered Snape in the entrance hall, freshly returned from the grounds.

"Where have you been?" Harry demanded, sprinting toward him. "I've been looking all over for you!"

Snape quirked his brow and replied sardonically, "This may surprise you, Potter, but I do not simply wait for your beck and call. I had business of my own to attend to…"

"For the Order?" Harry interrupted as the idea that Snape may have been attending to some mission from Dumbledore darted across his mind.

Snape hushed him, glancing around the hall to ensure they had not been overheard.

"Not everything I do is for Dumbledore!" he hissed when he was assured that the hall was empty.

Harry rolled his eyes. "So what were you doing? Don't tell me you actually got a date? With who? Did you find a handsome older man in Hogsmeade, or…?"

Snape began walking away from him. Harry jogged to keep up, falling into step as Snape began to descend the steps toward the dungeons.

"I'm only joking!" he protested.

"You must have had some reason for looking for me," Snape said without glancing at Harry, "What is it, Potter?"

"Ah… Right, well… You see, I haven't exactly thought of a way to get that memory off Slughorn…"

"And as usual, you were hoping I could do the thinking for you?" Snape concluded. He paused as he reached his office door. Despite his show of disdain whenever Harry came around, he graciously stepped aside, allowing Harry to pass into the room before him. "I am afraid you're on your own, this time. Dumbledore assigned the task to you. If he thought I would be capable…"

"He would have told you to do it yourself, I know." Harry said with a groan, falling into the chair in front of Snape's desk. "But it's impossible! Slughorn saw right through me the first time I asked. I thought maybe Veritaserum could work, but Dumbledore seems to think he'll have an antidote for that…"

"You're thinking about this all wrong," said Snape. "Your task is not to trick Slughorn, but to persuade him. That was the headmaster's intention in assigning this task to you."

"And how am I supposed to do that when I can't even get close to him?" Harry grumbled. "He never sticks around after class, and he closes the door in my face if I try him in his office…"

"You seem to have a very troubling presumption that your professors only exist within the confines of their careers," Snape observed.

Harry ignored him as he continued, "Isn't there a spell or something I could use? What about sectumsempra?"

Snape flinched, then looked grave. "Where did you hear about that?"

"It was in your textbook," Harry replied. Snape's nervous reaction had not been lost on him. He looked at Snape with renewed interest in the subtle changes of his expressions as he asked, "What's it do?"

"I'd forgotten I'd written it there…" Snape mumbled, more to himself than to Harry. Then he added in a louder voice, "It's dangerous. You will avoid using it if you know what's good for you."

Harry groaned, throwing his head back to glare at the ceiling. "Well, what else am I supposed to do! Dumbledore won't tell me anything else about horcruxes if I don't get that memory!"

Snape was silent for a moment. Harry wondered if he was merely preparing his next barbed comment. Instead, he asked, "Would you really like to know what I was doing today?"

Harry looked at him in bewilderment. "No, don't tell me… You weren't actually on a date?"

"Potter, for once in your life try to be sensible. I was speaking with Professor Sprout."

"... So you were on a date with Professor Sprout?"

"Hemlock, Potter," Snape said with an exasperated sigh, "We were discussing hemlock. She has a fresh crop that is almost ready to be harvested. It's quite deadly, of course. But when brewed properly, it can be a useful ingredient in some very valuable potions."

"You taught us this in our third year," Harry mused, "Why tell me this now?"

"Because, Potter, the crop is most potent when harvested at twilight. I suspect they will reach maturity in a fortnight. As I no longer teach potions, I recommended that Professor Sprout advise Slughorn of the plants' progress, so that he might collect a sample for his classes."

Harry had been slumped in his chair, but now he sat bolt upright. His mind worked quickly to understand what Snape was implying. "So Slughorn will be near the greenhouses at twilight two weeks from today?"

Snape nodded his head, smiling now that Harry finally understood him. "If you cannot find an opportunity, create one yourself, Potter."

Harry grinned. "Fair enough. But what then? If I corner Slughorn in the greenhouses, how do I get him to give up the memory?"

"Like I said, Potter. Persuade him."


That weekend, the sixth year students who would be old enough to take their Apparition tests by mid-April set out for Hogsmeade. Madam Rosmerta had offered the Three Broomsticks as a venue for those who wished for extra practice before the deadline. Regular trips into Hogsmeade had not resumed since Katie Bell's unfortunate accident, and so Harry was forced to stay behind while Blaise and Millie joined the rest of his classmates on their journey to the village.

With nothing better to do except wait for his chance to speak with Slughorn, Harry might have spent a very dull afternoon sitting in the common room by himself. Fortunately, he had one friend who, like him, would not be taking an Apparition exam that year.

"I suppose we could always sneak into the village," Harry suggested as he and Luna strolled through the halls of the castle. "We could go under the cloak. Take the passage underneath the Willow. You know, like in our first Marauder's meetings…"

"Do you always carry the cloak with you?" Luna asked.

The cloak was folded neatly in the pocket of Harry's trousers. The fabric was so thin and fine, he usually had no trouble tucking it safely away. And yet after all this time, it had sustained neither rip nor hole nor stain. He pulled it out for Luna's inspection, commenting as he did so, "I keep it with me in case of emergencies."

She accepted the cloak respectfully, holding it in her hands as though testing the weight of the light, shimmering fabric. While she inspected the cloak in silence, Harry withdrew the other heirloom he kept with him at all times.

Crabbe's name was once again fixed just outside the hidden entrance to the Room of Requirement. Harry glared at the spot he filled on the Marauder's Map. Despite what Dobby had said about the room being impossible to enter when it was in use, he had half a mind to use the cloak to lurk in the hall until Goyle came out again.

He was about to suggest this new scheme to Luna when she said, "It's a bit wrinkled, but in very good condition. Has it been in your family long?"

"Huh?" asked Harry, for the moment forgetting that he had handed Luna the cloak, "Oh… I'm not sure. I know it belonged to my dad, but I don't know where he got it…"

Luna hummed thoughtfully, then passed the cloak back to Harry. "They're quite rare, you know. This is the first time I've seen one in person, though I have heard about them. Daddy used to tell me this story… I suppose you've heard the one about the three brothers?"

"Hold that thought, Luna," Harry interrupted. He had just spotted another familiar name on the map. Waving his wand over the page with a quickly muttered, "Mischief managed," he quickly dashed down a nearby passage, dragging Luna along with him.

The passageway led them down a flight of stairs, which took a sharp turn before opening abruptly on the corridor leading to the headmaster's office. Harry burst out of the hidden entrance, and immediately called, "Tonks!"

"Harry?" Tonks said with some confusion, pausing before the stone gargoyle that guarded the spiral stair. "What're you… Where'd you come from?"

"Secret passage," said Harry casually before he advised, "If you're here to meet Dumbledore, he hasn't been seen in days."

Tonks looked disappointed, though not surprised. She mumbled something in which the words "thought I could at least check in…" were barely decipherable.

"I don't suppose you know where he goes?" Harry asked her after a moment of consideration. "When he isn't here, I mean."

Tonk's eyes darted toward Luna, who continued to look unbothered, as if strange boys dragged her along hidden corridors and introduced her to women violently purple hair every day.

"No, I don't know where he is. If I did, I wouldn't've bothered to come here, would I?"

"Well, what did you want to talk to him about?"

"Nothing in particular," said Tonks evasively.

Harry could tell Luna's presence was putting her on guard, and he stepped aside to better include Luna into their conversation. "It's alright, Tonks. This is my friend Luna. You can trust her."

Even this mild praise was enough to turn Luna's pale face a little pink, though she continued to look serene as she shook hands with Tonks.

"I've seen you before," she remarked in her dreamy fashion, "Though… You sometimes look different, don't you?"

Harry couldn't tell if Luna was aware that Tonks was a metamorphmagus, or if she were simply commenting on the shade of Tonk's vivid hair. Usually, it was bubblegum pink. To Harry's mind, Tonks was altered in more ways than one. She seemed thinner, and there were dark circles under her eyes that she had not tried to conceal.

"I just wanted to see if there was any news," Tonks continued, still looking at Luna as though she was nothing more than an interloper. "I've heard some rumors… People getting hurt…"

"Yeah… Yeah, I saw that story in the Prophet," Harry said. There had been a particularly gruesome tale about a family killed by their seven-year-old son. Many were saying he'd been under the Imperius Curse at the time.

But Tonks shook her head. "The Prophet's often behind on things…"

"That's just what daddy's always saying," Luna added, always eager to join a conversation where disparaging The Daily Prophet was concerned. "He thinks they're trying to cover the worst of it up because the Ministry doesn't want to cause a panic, but there are things the people need to know! For their own safety!"

"What sort of things?" asked Tonks. There was a note of skepticism in her voice, but Harry could tell from her expression that her worry outweighed her judgment.

He didn't think it was wise to toy with Tonks when she was in such a state. Rather than give Luna the opportunity to go on with the latest conspiracy coming out of the Quibbler, he suggested delicately, "If you're worried about Remus, I haven't heard from him… But I think… I think Mrs. Zabini knows where he is, and she hasn't written to me about any, erm… bad news."

Harry, despite having rather more faith in Luna than Tonks, still wasn't sure how much he should divulge in front of the daughter of a magazine publisher. If she knew that Remus, her former professor, was currently living as a spy amongst the werewolves, who knows what conclusions she might draw from that?

Tonks seemed to understand him, for a complicated expression came over her heart-shaped face. She seemed relieved to hear that Remus was, presumably, still safe, and yet the fact that she had to depend on Mrs. Zabini for this intelligence disheartened her.

She turned slowly away from the headmaster's office and began to walk back down the length of the corridor. Luna seemed to have an instinct for when it was best to remain silent. Though she followed Harry and Tonks at a leisurely pace down the hall, she seemed to prefer looking at the paintings they passed along their way, or else pausing at windows to gaze at the sunny grounds, as though lost in her own thoughts.

Harry was grateful for her discretion. It allowed him to fall into step next to Tonks. She was the first to break the companionable silence with a heavy sigh.

"I know it's childish, acting like this when he's…" she paused and bit her lip before adding in a rush, "Well, I know he's older than I am, but I don't think… I mean, it's more important to have things in common, isn't it?"

"Just to be clear," said Harry cautiously, "We're talking about Remus, aren't we?"

Tonks nodded her head. "I know it's pointless to hope, especially after Sirius…"

She paused again, perhaps thinking that her comment was insensitive, especially when directed at Harry. His feelings were very different. After long suspecting the nature of Tonk's feelings toward one of his guardians and closest friends, Harry felt only a sense of satisfaction hearing those feelings acknowledged.

"What is it you like about him?" asked Harry encouragingly. "Because I know it's not his hair or his clothes… Is it because he's tall? I bet it's because he's tall…"

Tonks laughed lightly before she said, "Oh, Harry. You still have so much to learn… I suppose it started with admiration. He's a very talented wizard, you know. We got to know each other a bit over the past year… And for him to have been through so much, and still be so kind…"

She let her thoughts trail off. Harry didn't want to make light of her feelings, but the discussion had brought to mind another conversation. Sirius had once teased Remus about this very subject. It felt good to recall happier times, and Harry couldn't help the smile that came to his face.

They had reached the entrance hall. Tonks announced her intention to return to Hogsmeade, where she would oversee the safe return of the students who would be returning from their Apparition lesson. Before she left, she suddenly turned back. There was resolution in her voice as she said, "Tell me honestly, Harry. Should I keep hoping, or should I give it up?"

Harry wasn't sure how much he could safely advise her. He was keenly aware of Luna, still lingering by his side while she watched the entire transaction with her wide, curious eyes. Harry did not want to be the cause of Tonk's disappointment, but after a moment of consideration, decided that her honest confession deserved a return. He replied with perfect sincerity, "Neither of them have said anything to me… But I think Mrs. Zabini admires him as well."

Tonks directed a sad smile at him and replied, "Say no more. There's no competing with her."

Harry remained standing before the great doors of the castle, watching Tonks make her solitary way across the grounds toward the school gates. He felt a bit of compassion for her, though privately, when he pictured what his family might one day be, it was Mrs. Zabini he pictured by Remus's side.

"So she's in love?" Luna asked mildly.

"Hm?" said Harry, distracted from his thoughts, "Oh, yes. Remember Professor Lupin? She likes him."

"Ah," said Luna, nodding sagely, "That makes sense."

This was the final straw. Harry threw his arms in the air and exclaimed, "What is it with him? Does he give off a pheromone? Does he sweat amortentia? What is this strange power he has over people?!"

Luna laughed, then grasped the sleeve of Harry's robes, gently leading him back into the castle. "She was right, you know. You still have so much to learn, Harry."