Gone with the Rain

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discord. gg / 7D7dWjzKac alltheblankcanvas. comGone with the Rain

The last of leaves of the willow tree drifted from its branches across the river into the long grass and the fading autumn sun's weak warmth dappled across Fleur's face. She lay her head back in Harry's lap and closed her eyes, letting the faint heat soak into her cheeks. He cradled her head against him with one arm and ran his fingers through her hair.

Perfect. A small smile graced her lips. As always.

The warmth faded from her face. A spot of wet struck her cheek and trickled down to her jaw. Fleur opened her eyes. Dark, blue-grey clouds crept over the sun.

Harry brushed the droplet of her cheek with the tip of his finger and kissed her on the temple. "We should head back to the chateau. It's going to rain."

Fleur uncurled from his lap. "Gabby's waiting to ambush us…"

Harry laughed. "Are you going to apparate me? Or do I have to walk in the rain?"

"If my parents were around you'd be offering to walk," Fleur replied.

"I suppose it's easier for you." A touch of ice crept into the green of Harry's eyes as he put his glasses back on. "There's nobody else close to me you need to worry about."

Just Katie Bell. Guilt lanced through Fleur's stomach. But he's right. Maman and Papa are being deliberately difficult. I've set fire to enough copies of the Daily Prophet to warm the whole chateau for a month.

"I've nothing against your family," Harry murmured. "I understand why."

"You get on with Gabby well." Fleur leant against his shoulder and smiled. "But you did bribe her with Clafoutis, so I'm not sure it counts."

"It wasn't a bribe. It was a deal. I gave her the Clafoutis and she would stop pestering us about being romantic."

"Well, it's worked so far." Fleur held her hand out and watched the first spots of rain dot her palm. "Although you've only seen her for about five minutes since the clafoutis ran out."

The rain came down in a fast-paced staccato, drowning out the sound of the river beside them.

"Let's go." Fleur took Harry's hand and apparated them back into the middle of a pile of Gabby's shoes in the entrance hall. The soft snap of their arrival echoed through the chateau."

"Did you kiss in the rain?" Gabby bounded down the stairs, a stack of magazines and a newspaper in her hands.

Harry sighed. "No…"

Gabby pouted. "You're supposed to kiss Fleur in the rain. It's your raison d'etre."

"It's ok." Fleur patted Harry on the shoulder. "The deal lasted a lot longer than I expected."

"Five minutes is not a long time," Harry muttered.

"Are you going back outside to kiss?" Gabby danced down the last few steps. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Can I come instead of Fleur?"

Fleur levelled her best glare at Gabby. "I will hex you."

Gabby stuck her tongue out. "I'm bored, there's nothing to do except read and I've been reading all morning. I even read that silly English paper." She shook the stack of magazines in the air.

Harry's brow creased. "Not the best read, that."

"I've read it," Fleur said. "There's nothing about you, for once."

"Just a big article about an escape from Azkaban," Gabby added.

Harry extended a hand. "May I?"

Gabby tugged the Daily Prophet out from the stack of magazines and put the rest of the stack down on the stairs. "Keep it if you want. It's rubbish."

Harry skimmed the front page with cold eyes, then flicked through a few pages and scanned a few columns of writing. "What nonsense."

"Is any of it true?" Fleur stepped to his shoulder and craned her neck.

"Some of it." Harry took a deep breath and closed the paper. "I've no doubt that these prisoners have escaped, but it wasn't Sirius Black that helped them."

"I thought Black was a Death Eater too?" Gabby asked.

"He wasn't." Harry folded the paper up, then handed it back to Gabby. "Do you want to help me practise hex deflection, Fleur?"

Oh? He's changed his mind about dueling practice. About time.

"Of course, mon Cœur." Fleur tossed her hair back over her shoulder and pointed downstairs toward the cellar.

Gabby closed her eyes, then bright blue flames sprang up on her palms and the paper burst to ashes. "Can I help?"

"Only if Fleur agrees and you promise not to ask any more questions about kissing in the rain," Harry said.

Gabby turned to Fleur and put on her best pout and big eyes. "Please, Fleur?"

You can help, little chick." Fleur smirked. "We're going to be hexing

Harry until he learns to block and deflect spells."

Gabby grinned. "Sounds fun."

A faint hissing echoed from the kitchen.

"My hot chocolate!" She scampered off.

"No promises for you, Harry," Fleur whispered in his ear. "You underestimate Gabby's deviousness."

Harry chuckled. "I suppose I can try more bribery."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Don't. If you keep buying her sweets, she might actually try and steal you for herself. I'm not one for sharing."

Mirth glowed in Harry's green eyes. "No, you really aren't, are you?

But it's not going to happen, I'm not sure I can even afford to just buy sweets for you. You go through sugar like a basilisk through schoolchildren."

Fleur's heart squirmed. "Come on, mon Cœur. " She gave him a gentle push in the direction of the basement and grabbed his hand. "You can tell me about Sirius Black on the way while Gabby is distracted."

Harry let her lead him away, chuckling under his breath.

She paused on the stairs and poked him in the stomach. "Well?"

"Sirius is my godfather. None of what they say about him is true. He never betrayed my parents and he certainly didn't help anyone escape from Azkaban."

Fleur pursed her lips. "So what really happened?"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "Voldemort broke them out…"

"I meant at Godric's Hollow, idiot."

Harry grinned. "Ah, that makes more sense." The humour wilted from his face. "Sirius was supposed to be the secret keeper for the Fidelius Charm, but it was decided that he was too obvious, so they switched to Peter Pettigrew at the last moment. The rat was the traitor. He faked his death and Sirius ended up in Azkaban."

"He's still alive? He better hope we never get our hands on him."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched. "He's dead."

Good. Fleur's gaze traced the small curve of Harry's lips and a faint suspicion crept in amongst her thoughts. Did you do it, mon Cœur? She tried to picture him over a body, wand outstretched. The image formed with ease. Harry's cold green eyes and dark wand above the shadow of a corpse. He could well have. She turned her nose up.

And so what. Pettigrew deserved it.

Gabby's footsteps pattered toward them.

I will ask him. Fleur buried a small twist of fear. As long as he tells me the truth, I'll be fine. Nobody cares what happens to one murderer, but he better trust me as much I trust him.

She pulled Harry on toward the room at the far end of the basement. "Ready?"

Gabby darted through the door and set her hot chocolate down on the floor by the wall. White foam and chocolate trickled down the sides of the mug. "Did I miss anything?"

Fleur pulled her wand out and vanished the mess. "We haven't even started. I was just about to explain to Harry what he's trying to do."

"I read a bit about it at the start of last year," Harry said.

"Gabby will be learning about it soon anyway." Fleur shrugged. "Beauxbatons has dueling as an extra-curricular. We may as well start with the basics for her sake."

Harry smirked. "You just want to play teacher."

Heat crept onto Fleur's cheeks. So what if I like explaining things to someone I know wants to listen?

Gabby giggled. "Go on, Professor Fleur."

Fleur tutted. "Hush, class, or it will be detention."

"I don't think Harry will mind getting detention with his Professor," Gabby snickered.

"Too right." Harry's gaze dipped from her face, then flicked back up. A touch of desire gleamed in his eyes. "Every school boy's fantasy is the hot, foreign teacher. Would be a shame to waste the chance…" Fleur flushed and raised her wand at the pair of them. Gabby pressed both hands across her mouth to stifle her laughter. Harry grinned and let his wand slide out of his sleeve.

"Deflecting hexes is based off the effect created by two colliding curses," Fleur said as the warmth faded from her cheeks. "If two spells meet in the air, then they can ricochet off one another or just stop dead. You're trying to achieve a more controlled effect by projecting your magic through your wand to deflect spells away."

"So it's like conjuring a mirror to reflect spells," Gabby said.

"Gabby got it first," Fleur jibed.

"I already knew that," Harry muttered. "And even if she did, so what? We're the same age!"

Fleur stepped back. "Then you'll be able to deflect this. Expelliarmus."

Red light flashed from her wand. Harry side-stepped and made a show of pretending he'd never seen it. Gabby giggled.

Fleur huffed and turned her nose up at him. "You're a terrible student." A smirk curved her lips. "Terrible students don't get rewarded by their hot, foreign teacher, mon Cœur."

Harry laughed and raised his wand. "I'll deflect them."

Gabby eyed the slender piece of ebony. Her fingers curled into the folds of her black dress and she bounced on the balls of her feet.

Tempted to listen to it, Gabby? I wonder what it'd feel like for you.

"Move a bit further away, Gabby. You don't want to be hit by the deflected curse." Fleur thew a stinging hex at Harry.

Harry yawned and flicked his wand in the direction of the approaching curse.

She sighed. Well, that's going to hurt a bit, mon Cœur. Maybe I should've used something else.

The stinging hex flashed back past her head and fizzled away against the wall.

Fleur smoothed her hair back down and narrowed her eyes at Harry. "You've done this before," she growled.

"I haven't." He raised his palms. "I've only seen it done."

A hint of a pout crept onto her lips. "Did you intentionally direct it back at me?"

"Maybe…" Laughter danced in his emerald eyes.

Fleur's heart lurched and she swallowed a sudden rush of emotion. He's so perfect.

Gabby giggled and pulled her wand out of her dress" cleavage. "Can I help?"

"Of course, little chick." Fleur shot the front of her dress a long look and Gabby turned a little pink. "Just very light stinging hexes, Gabby.

I don't want to have to explain to Maman why we accidentally killed Harry in the basement."

Gabby nodded, then her expression brightened. "But… tragic romance?"

"I'm not a fan of sad endings," Fleur replied. "They make for terrible stories. Who'd want to read one of those?"

Harry shifted his footing and balance, raising his wand. His green eyes sharpened and froze. Fleur's heart squirmed and wriggled under her ribs. A strong desire to crush her lips against his flared through her.

Later, mon Cœur. Fire coursed through her blood. And soon, more than just kisses, too. You're mine.

She cast her hex. Harry deflected hers, sending it hissing off to one side. Gabby's struck him on the hip.

"Ow." He winced and rubbed at the skin under his robes. "Stinging hexes? Really?"

"Not at the same time, Gabby," Fleur chided.

"Sorry." Gabby's broad grin ruined her apology. "Sort of."

"You're pushing too much magic into it, Harry," Fleur said. "You want it to be enough to redirect the hex, not to try and hammer it away from you."

"Again?" Gabby beamed and raised her wand.

"Does she get to practise this as well?" Harry shot Gabby a flat look. "I can do better than stinging hexes…"

"Not until she's older," Fleur said. "Hex him, Gabby."

"We're the same bloody age," Harry muttered.

He deflected the stinging hexes Gabby hurled at him with less and less force until it seemed he was flicking them away off the tip off his wand. Fleur cast a few of her own into the mix, but he kept going, even when she left him only a second or two to react.

Something smashed by the door.

Merde. Fleur twisted round, then released a long sigh when she saw the door was shut. Not a bottle.

Gabby let out a small squeak of despair. "My hot chocolate…"

A small, steaming pool of foam and chocolate spread across the floor. Fleur repaired the mug with a wave of her wand and vanished the mess.

"You spilt my hot chocolate. You owe me." Gabby turned the full force of her pleading look on Harry.

Harry grinned. "It doesn't work for her now, either. I can ignore it."

Fleur's narrowed her eyes. Liquid heat pooled in her bones and feathers prickled along her arms and down her spine. I warned you, Gabby.

Gabby threw a nervous look at Fleur. "I'm not using my allure. I promise."

She'd better not have. Fleur shot Gabby a serious look and felt a swoop of relief when Gabby nodded. If you repeatedly use the allure on someone, it can leave a permanent mental association. I don't need Harry stuck with a lingering desire for my little sister. She wrinkled her nose. Urgh. That'd be awful.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "You mean that's natural?"

Gabby's lower lip quivered.

Harry slipped his wand away and sighed. "Alright. I owe you."

"Can I touch your wand?" Gabby stuck out her hand.

Harry cracked a wide grin. "I don't think your sister would approve." Gabby spluttered, red-faced. Fleur wrestled her own flush back.

"Revenge is sweet," Harry said. "You can. Don't try and cast anything with it, though, my friend got burnt when he tried. It's very closely bonded to me."

Gabby took the ebony wand from his hands, holding it between her forefinger and thumb. "It's cold…. like I'm gripping an icicle." She frowned. "I don't think it likes me holding it. Do you mind if I listen to

it?"

Harry's brow wrinkled. "I'm not sure what you mean, Gabby."

"You remember I told you that we can feel magic to a certain extent?" Fleur waited for him to nod. "I'm fine with things enchanted to last and powerful or emotive magic, but Gabby's a lot better than me, she-"

"Let me explain, Fleur." Gabby pouted. "You always make it sound so strange."

"It is strange, little chick."

"I can get a really good idea of the feelings or intent of magic when I listen to it," she chirped. "Like you would if you studied an enchantment. Fleur only gets a fraction of what I do." Gabby stuck her chin in the air.

"What do you feel from a wand?" Harry asked.

"Wands hold the echo of any magic cast through them, so if I really focus, I can get a kind of impression of what your magic's like, or at least, your overall intent." She shuffled her feet. "It's quite a personal thing, but you're Fleur's now, and Maman said I can listen to anyone's wand if they're part of the family."

A faint, soft smile flickered across Harry's lips. "Listen away. I'm curious to hear what you feel."

Gabby took his wand in both her hands and pressed it against her chest, scrunching her eyes shut. "It's so alive, " she whispered.

That's not how you've described anyone else's. Fleur frowned. She said my magic felt like running her fingertips across warm silk, or hot rose petals. Soft, but strong.

"It's like holding my hand in the river in winter. The current's strong and it's ice cold. I can almost hear the water whispering." A wide, dazed smile spread across Gabby's face and she screwed her eyes shut tighter. "I'm sure if I could just listen a little harder, I'd be able to hear what's it saying."

Harry pried his wand from her grasp. "I think that's enough."

Gabby scowled, stuffing pale, purple-nailed fingers into her armpits. "But I want to listen to the whispers."

"Don't try stealing it later." Fleur let a hint of stone creep into her voice. "Harry's wand is quite unique; it has a liquid core and seems to be very closely bonded to him. It was reluctant to respond to you were pouring your magic over it to listen, and that was when he gave you permission, please don't try it later."

"It burnt Neville when he tried to use it even after I gave him permission." Harry replaced his wand up his sleeve. "It wasn't particularly painful, but it looked quite uncomfortable."

Gabby sulked. "I wasn't going to."

Fleur shot her a sharp look.

"Ok, ok." Gabby giggled. "I really won't."

"Getting back to why we actually came down here," Fleur said. "Harry's got the idea. It won't be as easy deflecting different spells at different speeds and still be able to control where they go, and you could probably do with working on your reflexes to make sure you're as fast as you can be, but that's the gist."

"Has the lesson ended? Are we free to leave, Professor Fleur?" Gabby chirped.

"Shoo, Gabby." Fleur watching her snatch her mug and scamper off.

To make another hot chocolate and twice as much mess, probably.

Harry stepped to her side, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Your mother runs a potions shop, doesn't she?"

"Yes." Fleur sidled into his embrace. "Why?"

"Did you mean what you said about not caring what I did?" he murmured.

A tight knot pulled itself taut in her stomach. Fleur slipped her arm round Harry and pulled him close. "As long as you're mine," she whispered.

"All yours." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Always."

"Do you trust me?" Fleur wriggled under his arm and leant her head into the crook of his neck. "I don't mean with little stuff, or normal stuff, with everything."

Harry stared down at her, a strange gleam in his eye. "Of course. Why're you asking, Fleur?"

"I want you to tell me things." She pursed her lips. "I want you to want to tell me things. Everything. No matter what it is." Her voice shook and she huffed. "I - I don't share myself readily, you know that. But I've shared everything I am with you. I want to. And I want to know that you do, too."

A small little smile crept onto Harry's lips. "I do. I very much do." He grimaced. "I've not told you everything, I know. Sometimes… sometimes I still fear that I'll disappoint you and you'll disappear…"

Like all the other things you wished for?

"I won't." Fleur kissed the side of his neck and the small knot of unease loosened a little in her belly. "I'll prove it. What happened to Peter Pettigrew?"

Harry tensed, then sighed. "He died… badly. "

"You killed him," Fleur murmured. "I wondered, when you said before, and I think I knew, even then."

A thick silence crept over them.

He killed someone. Murdered them. Fleur picked through her feelings, seeking some disgust, dislike, fear, or fury; apprehension crept in only with the idea of aurors. So long as he's not caught and taken away from me, it doesn't matter. And if they try, he can just come here.

"I don't care," she said. "I don't. What does Peter Pettigrew mean to me? He deserved it. Just don't get caught. I would miss you if you they stuck you in Azkaban."

"I didn't just do it because of that," Harry whispered. "It was… It was necessary."

"You're not their hero," Fleur said. "You're mine. And I don't want a silly, shallow hero's caricature, I couldn't love anyone like that. I want someone like me." She curled her fingers into his robes. "Besides. Heroes die."

"I won't die." Harry's grip tightened. "Nothing's going to steal you away from me. Nothing and nobody. Perfect wishes don't come true often, so I'm not losing mine. I'll pay whatever price I must to keep you with me."

Warmth flooded through Fleur's chest and swirled in a thick ball in her throat; hot tears prickled at her eyes. "Now you sound like you've been reading Gabby's favourite books. Have the two of you been sneaking off together?"

He let out a quiet chuckle and gave her fingers a squeeze. "I think maybe they were your favourites too, once."

He knows me.

Fleur pressed her face into his neck, but her tears trickled free from her lashes, tracing little hot lines down her cheeks. "A long time ago, maybe they might've been."

Harry drew back a fraction and wiped her tears away with the ball of his thumb. "Fleur?"

"Désolée," she murmured. "It just - it means a lot."

"Je sais, ma princesse." Harry bent and pressed a soft kisses to her cheek. "I know."

Fleur smiled at him and swiped her tears away on her sleeve. "So why do you need potions ingredients, mon Cœur?"

"I know a way to improve my reflexes and my eyesight, but I need a few things that I don't know how to get hold of."

"What do you need?" Fleur asked. "Potions like that don't last long."

"Wormwood, bayberry, salamander's blood and a griffon claw."

"An odd combination." Fleur frowned. "Is it some kind of strengthening potion? Wormwood and bayberry are used in potions to repair macula and retina damage for short periods of time in subjects with degenerative eye diseases."

"Not exactly." Harry's lips twisted. "I need the effect to be permanent, so I'm dabbling in some magic most people would balk at and the Ministry might be tempted to send me somewhere unpleasant for."

She turned her nose up at him. "I already told you I don't care. And I don't like repeating myself."

Harry's lips curved into a small smile. "A ritual, using blood magic. I need to fix my eyesight and any edge I can seize, I ought to."

"That sounds dark," Fleur teased. "What would the English papers say about their hero doing magic like that?"

"Right now, they'd probably be overjoyed," Harry muttered. "There's no such thing as dark or light magic, anyway. Just the intent with which your power's directed."

She smiled. "Just like enchanting. Intent-laced magic can be used to heal or cause harm." Fleur frowned. "Just be careful, magic like that rarely fulfils the expectations of those that cast. I don't want to lose you because your glasses get lost in a duel, but if the price of fixing your eyesight is to lose you for certain…"

"I'm reliably informed I am one of the few witches or wizards with the capability to perform magic of this nature." A touch of colour rose on his cheeks. "Apparently, it requires no small amount of power, both magical and willpower."

She nodded, then smirked. "Does this mean you'll stop wearing your glasses?"

"I won't need them if it works."

"Good." Fleur settled herself into his arms. "I like your eyes and those glasses are tasteless."

I wonder if he can use this sort of magic to help me enchant things. Would we able to create something amazing?

"Can we use this sort of magic for enchanting?" Fleur asked. "I've always dreamt of creating something truly spectacular. Something beyond my little projects or what every day witches and wizards can manage."

"The sacrifice has to be proportional. You don't get something for nothing. It's going to cost me a lot of magic, a lot of blood, pain, and more to fix my eyes and give myself a small edge." He shot a her half a smile and pulled her close. "I don't think I'd be willing to pay the price for something like you're talking about."

Fleur relaxed into his arms. The gentle throb of his heart reverberated through her chest, beating in time with hers. "You better not make any mistakes. I will set fire to you if you do."

He grinned down at her. "I won't. I promise."

"I'll apparate to Carcassonne before you leave and get the ingredients for you," Fleur decided. "You'll have to pay, though."

"It's best if they're whole," Harry said. "The more they look like what they are, the easier it is to hold the associations in mind when I weave the intent of the ritual."

"Maybe about six hundred galleons all in." Fleur shot him a rueful smile. "Sorry. Griffon's claw's expensive, especially whole."

Mirth sparkled in Harry's eyes. "It's ok. I have some galleons. You see, I won this really prestigious tournament a short while back…"

"Only because someone interfered." Fleur leant back out of his arms and fixed him with a playful scowl.

He chuckled.

Not going to kiss me? A faint pout curved her lips.

Harry bent down and pressed his lips to hers. "You're very cute when you do that," he murmured.

Fleur slipped his fingers into her hair and pushed him away. "I'm always cute." She laughed. "Was there anything else you wanted me to help with? Dueling, rare ingredients for your dark rituals, I'm not sure what else I can offer to the budding Dark Lord Potter."

Other than me. Faint heat traced through her veins, the shadow of his hands on her lingered amongst her thoughts, and her breath caught. But you can have me the moment you're ready, mon Cœur.

Harry glanced up at the cellar roof. "Do you know a way to conceal something so it only reveals with a certain phrase?"

"What're you trying to conceal?" Fleur smothered her thoughts before the heat crept onto her face. "There're lots of ways to do it."

"A map, hand drawn." A little ice crept back into his green eyes. "Dumbledore is a nuisance, constantly keeping track of me and stopping me from finding out things I need to know to survive. But if I manage to oust him from the school, Umbridge will have the run of the place, and that can't be allowed to last long. She's awful."

Fleur shrugged. "I'll show you."

They drifted back up the stairs. Her arm remained round his waist, his round her shoulders, bumping hips on every step.

Where's the boy who flinched from just the idea of touching me? Fleur smiled to herself. I have been good for him, I think.

She led them through to the kitchen and stole part of Gabby's essay. "Watch." Fleur borrowed Gabby's quill and poured a little ink into the lid of the inkpot. "You enchant the ink with the concealing charms, making sure it's strong enough to resist revealing charms and anything someone might use to try and reveal it."

Fleur drew a circle of dark ink on the white parchment and pulled out her wand, threading her intent for it to be concealed into the magic she pushed into the ink. The circle faded from sight.

"Oh my, it's disappeared!" Harry covered his mouth with his hands in feigned shock.

"Do you want me to show you?" Fleur demanded.

"Sorry." Harry's wide grin didn't convince her.

She huffed. "That doesn't sound very genuine."

He leant into her ear. "I only tease you because I love you," he murmured.

Fleur's heart squirmed. He's never actually said that before. She swallowed down another searing hot rush of emotion.

"I love you, too," she whispered back.

Gabby squealed.

"Hush, little chick," Fleur said. "Not. A. Word."

Gabby beamed. "I won't. It'd ruin it."

Fleur levelled a suspicious look at her.

"But I might mention it later." Gabby's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Maman might hear."

"I will toast you, Gabby." Fleur turned back to Harry and her piece of parchment. "You can then enchant the parchment to reveal anything upon it when a certain phrase is said. If you make that piece of magic strong enough, it'll overcome the concealment charms on the

ink."

"That's it?" Harry asked. "Really?"

"Vraiment." Fleur smirked. "I'd suggest a few extra enchantments to stop anyone destroying the parchment or ink, but that's easier than trying to imbue it with magic with opposing intent in different situations. Save that for when you're as good as me."

"So modest." Harry leant forward and kissed her, flicking the tip of his tongue against Fleur's upper lip.

A pleasant tingle rippled down Fleur's spine. She closed her eyes and let him take hold of her waist and pull her into his arms.

Gabby giggled. "Do I get a turn, Harry? Fleur seems to be really enjoying it."

Fleur opened her eyes and leant round Harry. "Over your charred body do you get a turn, baby sister."

Harry laughed. "I don't think Fleur's keen on sharing." He shrugged. "Which is good, because I don't think I'm very keen on sharing her either."

"So not fair." Gabby pouted. "You would've made such a good boyfriend." She turned to Fleur and wagged her finger. "If you weren't preying on younger boys, I would've been able to have him all for myself, you perverted harpy."

Fleur laughed. "Sorry, Gabby. I promise if I ever get tired of him, you can have him."

"Thanks," Harry murmured. "I feel so loved, like a childhood toy being given from sister to sister." A quiet chime echoed through the kitchen and Harry's humour faded. "I have to go back, Fleur."

Not ready to stay with me all night just yet. She stifled a flare of frustration. But he is a little younger.

"I know." Fleur curled her fingers into her robes and hauled him close for one last kiss. "But one day you will stay, yes?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"Soon?"

"Soon. I promise." Harry vanished with a soft snap.

Cold kitchen air crept through Fleur's clothes where he'd been. She stared down at the parchment she'd made, glanced at the bin, then folded it up and tucked it through the strap of her bra.

Gabby pulled her quill and inkpot back across the table. "He's perfect. Really. You do spend all your time with him instead of me now, but he's perfect. I've not seen you smile so much in years."

Fleur wrinkled her nose. "Don't tell me that. Tell Maman and Papa."

Gabby sighed and muttered something that would've earnt her a sharp scolding if either Maman or Papa had been there to hear it. "Just don't listen to them, Fleur. They'll realize they're wrong." A glimmer of mischief welled up in her eyes. "Want to enchant Maman's slippers to tickle her feet?"

Fleur laughed. "And get left blamed at the end when you deny all knowledge and bat your eyelashes at Papa? Ok, little chick."

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This one's a longer one. Bon appetit!

Cartography

Harry stared into the dark, cold water beneath the forked-tongue bridge; its surface shone as bright as a mirror. "Might as well do it now," he said.

"You want to do it now?" Salazar peered at him from where his portrait leant against one of the serpent figurines. "It's the morning."

"Does that make a difference to the magic?" Harry's tone came out dry as dust. "Am I going to get a please leave a message, your magic ritual will get back to you later? "

"Obviously not." Salazar crossed his arms. "I thought you might actually have something to do later in the day. I forgot you sulk and skip all your lessons and detentions, troubled child that you are." Harry chuckled. "I go to the ones with Snape. Otherwise Dumbledore might do something even more annoying. No point doing the rest. What're they going to do, write home to Vernon and Petunia?" He grinned. "I'd love to see that. "

Salazar's green eyes softened. "You've more important things to do, it's true. Very well. Let's get started."

Harry slid his wand from his sleeve and summoned his small stash of ingredients out from Salazar's study. "How long will it take?"

"Not long, depending on how quickly you manage to get the patterns of the ritual perfectly right."

"Just enough time before lunch." Harry grinned. A knot of apprehension tangled itself into a ball of excitement somewhere down in his gut. "Excellent."

"You'll be tired for the rest of the day," Salazar said. "And I don't mean the occasional yawn. You'll feel it."

"I've only really got one piece of magic I need to perform later today. The DA's meeting and I need to enchant a piece of paper." Harry shrugged. "I'll venture to the hospital wing for a potion or two to keep me on my feet. Madam Pomfrey will patch me up. She always does." Harry pulled out the book on rituals. "What do I want? I'm assuming something in patterns of seven, it is the magically strongest number."

"Three concentric seven-pointed stars," Salazar said. "Make them large enough for you to stand in and make sure you get all the runes right. You need to change a few bits from the one in the book to get the balance right."

"That's going to be a lot of blood," Harry murmured.

"Yes. And you'll have to do it quickly. The ritual needs the blood to be fresh; its effect fades once it has begun to congeal."

"I'll prepare the wormwood and bayberry first, then." Harry paused.

"What do I have to do? Just split them up?"

"Keep the two types separate and make sure they're easily recognisable as wormwood and bayberry leaves." Salazar pointed at the two jars of leaves with his wand. "It helps with the intent if the mental association's right at the forefront of your mind. Put bayberry at four points of each star and wormwood at the other three. Make sure they're on the same points for all the stars."

"So I just have to draw it all." Harry arranged the leaves with a flick of his wand. "For something that's going to have quite a lot of benefit and will be permanent, I don't really feel I'm sacrificing that much. If it just hurts and costs blood, why doesn't everyone do it?"

Salazar's eyes darkened. "You've sacrificed more than that, Harry, though it helps. Remember how once you were so adamant to be the noble hero and not emulate Tom at all?"

Harry grimaced. "I do."

"Did it hurt to learn otherwise?"

Harry's lips twisted. "Yes."

"And here you are." Salazar sighed. "Still think you've not sacrificed enough?"

"I suppose I've sacrificed quite a lot." Harry span his wand round upon his palm. "Strange. Would it've worked if you'd not told me?"

"Maybe not quite as well, but well enough." A small, proud smile appeared on Salazar's face. "You're aware how much you've given up compared to others just to survive. And you're determined to survive. Everything you do has that intent behind it, it will serve you well in every ritual you undergo, for they all share the same ultimate goal and the same great sacrifice. That's why ordinary wizards and witches cannot do this sort of magic, Harry. It's rare for anyone to be forced to give up so much and still have sufficient drive to carry on."

He's proud of me. A fist of emotion clenched itself tight beneath Harry's ribs. And it's really of me, not some false perception of a hero or anything like that.

He studied the leaves by his feet. "I guess I should draw everything."

"Be careful, Harry," Salazar murmured. "Especially when you come to make your own changes. The runes will carry slightly different associations to you than they do for me. My corrections can no longer help you, the complexity of the intent has passed beyond that point."

Harry raised his wand and sketched runes of purple flame into the floor, forming the three concentric, seven-pointed stars. He glanced back and forth between the book and the pattern, tweaking the occasional cluster of runes.

"That's as close to perfect as you'll be able to make it," Salazar said. "Now you just need to go over the stars with blood and take the plunge."

He makes it sound so simple. Harry's stomach churned and his heart picked up its beat, hammering against his ribs. Take the plunge. We can't look back. We can't lose Fleur. He took a deep breath and bared his wrist, pressing the tip of his wand into his skin.

"Here we go," he whispered.

Harry drew the tip of his wand across his wrist. His smooth, pale skin parted like water, stinging and burning like basilisk venom in his blood. Crimson welled up, trickling down his arm; it turned to a throbbing gush and Harry had to grit his teeth to stop his stomach turning. He raised his wand and drew blood from his arm like a ribbon on a stick, tracing the purple runes from start to finish. A web of magic hung from the tip of his wand, a woven net of intent, ready to be cast.

He mopped sweat off his forehead and raised his arm over his head to lessen the flow. "I'm ready."

"Tie something around your arm just in case." Salazar pointed his wand at Harry's face. "And take off your glasses. You shouldn't be needing those again."

Harry conjured a thin piece of black rope and tied it tight round his left bicep. "Will I pass out?" He pulled off his glasses and tossed them away.

"Probably not." Salazar nodded, mimicked by his snake. "It will hurt, though. The ritual will exact as much pain as you feel this is worth once everything else has been taken into account."

Harry released the web of magic and the runes pulsed, turning from deep indigo to bright violet. A vivid crimson light shone at its edges as his blood burst into steam, and the small piles of leaves hissed and exploded into clouds of thick, white smoke.

The smoke stung Harry's eyes and nose. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. A blinding white flash seared through his eyelids. The stinging in his eyes crawled deep, like a thousand tiny hooked needles caught within them. A cold tingle wrapped around his feet, creeping up his calves, his thighs, and up to his waist. His muscles numbed as if he stood in ice-cold water.

This is awful. Harry choked down a lungful of smoke as the cold, numb feeling seeped up his neck and into his face. How long will this last?

The burning in his eyes flared into searing flame. Bright white pierced through his eyelids like a lance. Harry pressed his fingertips into his temples and clenched his jaw. His magic drained away like water into dirt, leaving him hollow and gasping.

The fire in his eyes faded. Warmth crept back into his limbs.

Is it done? Harry opened his eyes.

Blackened, bloodied leaf ash surrounded him, and purple runes guttered out on the stones around his feet. The sharp scales of the serpents stretched up to the ceiling in every alcove, and the peeling gold leaf of the titles of the books on the shelves of Salazar's study glinted through the door.

Harry caught sight of his shattered glasses on the floor. It worked. He vanished the broken spectacles.

"Did it work?" Salazar asked.

Harry nodded. Dizziness seized his head, and nausea bubbled up in his stomach. He lowered himself to the floor with a thud and took shallow breaths through his nose.

Salazar snickered. "Regretting not doing it in the evening?"

Harry let the sickness pass and dragged himself back to his feet. His stomach growled and gnawed at itself. "I'm really very hungry. If I could muster the energy to get to the Great Hall for lunch, I'd say I timed it perfectly."

"Go to the hospital wing before eating, get the cut on your arm healed, then get some energy back and try to do as little as possible for the rest of the day."

Harry slid his wand back into his sleeve. "I still have to enchant that map." He groaned. "I might sleep for a week after I've done that."

Salazar folded his arms. "I'll allow you to leave me here for now, if you tried putting me back we'd probably both end up in the pool."

Harry grimaced and vanished the remnants of his ritual, staggering away across the chamber. Each step back up to Myrtle's bathroom felt like a mountain. A deep, hollow ache burnt in his legs each time he forced himself one stride further.

The bathroom mirror held a pale, shivering, sweating figure with a blood-soaked left sleeve and no glasses. A faint, eldritch gleam hovered in Harry's eyes.

Perfect. He rinsed his face in one of the few sinks that worked, then dried it on his other sleeve. Madam Pomfrey can fix my arm and give me a few things to keep me going long enough to enchant the list. After that, I can sleep.

Harry stumbled from the bathroom and through empty corridors, limbs shaking and burning. He staggered into the hospital wing, his injured arm tucked behind his back.

"What have you done to yourself now, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey strode across, pulling her wand out.

"I think I've lost quite a bit of blood," he murmured, presenting his injured wrist.

She released a low hiss and ran her wand over him. "How did this happen? You're covered in magic. I can barely tell what's going on there's so much!"

Harry shrugged.

Madam Pomfrey cut his tourniquet away and tossed it onto the end of the bed. The cut welled up; crimson swelled in from the edges, then trickled from the bottom of the cut down his arm to drip in large red blots on the white-tiled floor. She traced the line of the cut with her wand and it crept closed, the flesh knitting back together in the wake of her wand's glowing tip.

"Thanks," Harry muttered.

"This was created by magic, Mr. Potter." Madam Pomphrey's face twisted into a stern frown. "If you aren't going to tell me how this came about, then I can only assume the worst and deduce you have been dueling in the corridors somewhere!"

Not even close.

Madam Pomfrey slipped her wand away and moved over to one of the cupboards. She rummaged through vials, dropping a collection of dark red ones down onto the bed beneath. "You'll need all of those." She gathered the vials of dark red potion and grabbed two more. "You've lost almost a litre of blood. And these two, one for the pain and one to give you some energy back."

Harry lowered himself onto the end of the bed. The ache in his legs still gnawed at him, and a deep weight of exhaustion hung off him. "Better than two litres."

Madam Pomfrey jabbed a finger at the potions. "Why aren't you drinking?"

Harry gulped them down one after the other, grimacing at the taste. "I feel very liquidy now." His stomach sloshed with every movement.

"If I tell you to stay here, will you actually do it, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomphrey's expression softened.

Harry pretended to think about it, then grinned. "No."

I didn't think so." Madam Pomfrey began tidying up. "Honestly, it's like you have no sense of self preservation. Off you go, then. Make sure you eat something before lunch ends. You're excused from anything strenuous, magical or otherwise, until the end of the week, and I will be talking to your teachers to make sure that they know."

"Fair enough."

I've no magic I need to cast in class, anyway.

He swung himself off the bed, stomach sloshing, and stumbled onto his feet. A faint dizziness struck him. He closed his eyes for a moment, then held up his left hand. Pink suffused the still fingers. His reflection stared back from the window with exhausted eyes.

Better than before, though. I look like I've been playing quidditch for ten hours, not murdering first years. Harry swept his hair to one side and limped from the hospital wing to slump onto a bench in the Great Hall beside Nev.

Cedric glanced up from the far side of the table. "You look terrible. Are you alright?"

"I had a run in with Madam Pomfrey." Harry smiled and helped himself to as much food as was within reach.

Cedric watched Harry devour enough mashed potato to make a small mountain. "Did she order you to eat?"

Harry swallowed his mouthful. "She might've done."

Nev tugged his lunch out of Harry's reach. "Have you heard about the most recent decree?"

"Another one?" He glanced around for a paper. Half a dozen copies were scattered down the far end of the table. "What was it?"

"There's some law about teachers not being able to discuss anything with students that isn't about their subject," Nev muttered. "Absolutely stupid."

"It's because of the breakout from Azkaban." Cedric shook his head. "My dad says there's no evidence Sirius Black's even in the country, but Fudge doesn't want anything to contradict the Ministry's version of events."

"Does it apply to Umbridge?" Harry asked. "She might have to spend her lesson talking about the subject, if she knows any of it, instead of badmouthing anyone without seven generations of lineage in some fancy old book."

Cedric laughed. "You know your family's one of those families, right, Harry?"

"I doubt Umbridge's got to stick to it." Nev's eyes glittered with anger. "She'll keep spewing nonsense all lesson. You know, she's happier when you're not bothering to turn up, because every time you're there, you turn it round on her, or just ignore her. You can't defend yourself when you're playing truant."

"A shame."

"We need to be going." Nev pointed up at the storm clouds gathering above them on the Great Hall's ceiling. "You promised to come to this one, Harry."

Harry shot a look at Cedric out of the corner of his eye. "I'm coming."

"I'm coming too. Neville just asked me." Cedric laughed. "I think Neville wanted an assistant who'd actually teach someone, but I'll wait for Harry to finish eating in case he collapses on the way up."

Nev swung himself out of the bench. "You were right about the wand, by the way. It's not made a huge difference, but the trembling's stopped and I don't have to force myself quite so hard to get the same effects, so thanks. I'm glad I listened." He held his hand up, displaying faint red marks on his palm in the size and shape of Harry's wand. "Not so glad about these, though."

"There was something wrong with his wand?" Cedric asked.

"He was using his father's wand," Harry replied. "It wasn't the best match he could have had."

"Quite a lot of wizards and witches do that," Cedric said. "Your own wand's always better, but if it works well enough, some prefer to save the gold."

"So why're you coming to our little group?" Harry forked sausage and potato into his mouth, chewed three times, then gulped it all down. "Can't imagine you need to learn anything."

"I'm not fond of Umbridge," Cedric said. "She's destroying your chances of passing exams and getting good jobs later on. The Ministry's spouting nonsense, too. Everyone knows there's something wrong with the version of events they keep saying, but there's something I just can't quite put my thumb on." He frowned and shook his head. "Do you ever have that feeling you've forgotten something important?"

Harry dragged a bright smile onto his face. "All the time."

The memory charm's failing. He swallowed a spot of cold rage. Hermione's incessant digging for unnecessary detail is going to make him remember. As if it matters what exactly happened. Voldemort's to blame. We all know it already.

"I talked to Hermione Granger. She's not convinced by things either." Cedric frowned. " Really not convinced. That girl's borderline obsessed."

"I'm not surprised. She gets like that about stuff."

"I wanted to ask you about what happened," Cedric said. "I remember you stunning me, but that's it."

Harry pushed his plate away, appetite lost. "Did Hermione not tell you what I told her?"

"She did…" Cedric's forehead creased. "But I know you had a falling out with most of your housemates and I thought you might know a bit more."

Should I tell him and soften the blow? Or do I keep myself well clear of the trouble and let Hermione drag it all up? Harry wrestled with it as he pushed himself up. There's not going to be that much trouble,

I'll be fine.

"I know what happened, Cedric." He strode toward the door and up the stairs, skirting the trick step and pausing at a quiet corner. "I can tell you, but before I do, let me say that you might rather I'd not."

Cedric's face paled. "I'd a feeling you'd say something like that," he murmured. "Sometimes, I get flashes, little fleeting feelings. I remember horror. And I remember guilt."

"Bagman only cast one curse at any of us, the Imperius Curse, and he cast it at you."

Cedric reeled back. "Then I - I killed-"

"No." Harry shook his head. "You're not responsible for your actions and you had no warning or way to defend yourself." He sighed. "I was hoping you'd not remember. I obliviated you to undo the Imperius Curse, I hoped it wouldn't work if you didn't recall the commands, then I stunned you and snapped your wand so nobody would be able to pin things on you."

"Thank you," Cedric croaked. "I owe you a debt I can't repay. If you hadn't done that, I might be in Azkaban; my parents would've been heartbroken and I'd be worse than dead."

"Best not to tell Hermione," Harry suggested. "If you're still acting like you don't remember, then nobody attracts any suspicion. I'm not going to get in trouble for what I did."

Hermione doesn't deserve to know. She probably hasn't even considered anything but her own need to know exactly what happened to Viktor. And she already knows everything she really needs to, what difference does knowing every perfect detail make?

They climbed the stairs in a tense, thick silence. Cedric's clenched fists bounced against his thighs as he stumbled up the steps staring ahead like a blind man into the sun.

He'll be fine. He's a good person and strong-minded.

A group of about twenty five students gathered around Nev by the troll tapestry. Harry recognised the faces of most who'd come to the meeting in the Hog's Head. Hermione shouldered her way through the group and dragged Cedric to one side, waving the list and a quill at him. Nev paced the corridor.

An unspectacular wooden door flowed from the stone to excited whispers and Nev ushered everyone inside.

Hermione waved her list at everyone until they drew back against one side of the room. "Welcome to the first session of Dumbledore's Army. I'm glad that everybody came, even though this group is now technically illicit courtesy of Umbridge."

A few small smiles appeared.

"What is this place?" Katie appeared beside Harry. Her tie hung askew from her collar, and ink spots spattered the front of her shirt from the two undone buttons of her cleavage to where the shadow of her bra curved round her side.

"The Room of Requirement," Harry murmured. "It's quite handy."

Not that anyone here but me knows more than a couple of its secrets.

Katie straightened her tie and tugged at her uniform, running a finger over her eyebrows and sweeping her hair back behind her ears. "It's awesome." She took hold of his wrist and tugged. "I think Neville's going to make a speech."

"This should be good." Harry grinned. "He's still quite shy around people he doesn't know well. It's a bit strange actually, he's worse with them than he is with complete strangers."

"So…" Nev pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and scanned it. "L-like Hermione said, welcome to the first meeting and the place where we'll be practicing for all the future sessions-"

"What are we doing?" Smith demanded.

Rude. Nev's helping you, and you can't even listen to him for a few minutes.

"W-we'll be testing the Shield Charm and the Disarming Charm." Nev's eyes glinted. "Split into pairs, one can shield and the other can try and disarm. Does anyone want to demonstrate?"

Harry stepped forward. "I will. With Smith."

"Good idea." Nev stepped back.

The others backed away from the Hufflepuff student.

"Ready, Smith?" Harry asked.

Smith shrugged and stuck his hands in his pocket. "I can't cast the Shield Charm."

Harry's jelly-legs jinx hit him square in the face and he collapsed on the floor, swearing profusely amidst everyone's laughter.

"What the hell was that for, Potter?" Smith spat.

Harry fixed him with a cold stare and he quailed. "If you're going to come here and ask for Nev's help, then you should be polite and not interrupt. I'll undo the jinx once you've apologised."

"Fine," Smith muttered. "I apologise for interrupting. Happy?"

"If I'm not, you'll find out soon enough."

Nev performed the counter to the jinx. Smith pushed himself off the floor and slunk back into the group.

"Right." Nev conjured his own shining silver shield. "The Shield Charm is about intent to protect, if your focus is strong enough it can be an effective barrier against most spells."

"What ones isn't in effective against?" Terry Boot asked.

"Ones powerful enough to break your shield of magic, or ones with potent enough intent to simply pierce through it," Nev said. "The Unforgivables require such strong intent just to successfully cast that no Shield Charm can deflect them."

"So dodge those ones," Ron grunted.

Katie squeezed Harry's wrist. "Or you'll end up with a really big scar on your face," she whispered.

"Hush, you," he whispered back. "This is no place for your glibness and sarcasm. Professor Longbottom will spank you."

"I don't think so." Katie giggled. "He didn't do anything about Smith being a prick. Seems more likely you'd spank me for him."

Harry chuckled. "No, I know you too well. You'd just enjoy it."

Katie turned a little pink, then grinned. "Only because it's you, Harry."

Harry snorted. "Have you learnt the fire-proofing charm yet? You might need it if someone hears you talking like that."

Katie's smile slipped a fraction and her hand fell back to her side. "I actually do know that spell." She winced. "That's not why, though.

Obviously."

Harry laughed. "You probably learnt it so you could set people's brooms on fire during casual quidditch games and not get burnt yourself."

"Split up into pairs," Nev instructed. "Fortunately, there's an even number of us, so nobody will be left out."

The group separated and drifted apart across the room. Harry sat down on the floor.

Katie plopped down beside him, bumping his knee with hers and tugging her skirt hem down her thighs. "Look. They've all given us loads of space, just in case you decide to start icing people again."

"I'll ice you." Harry leant his head back against the wall. "Or I would, if I could be bothered."

"You'd miss me." Katie nudged his knee with hers. "Oi, come on."

Madam Pomfrey forbade me from doing anything strenuous," Harry said. "I'm afraid I have to sit here and watch."

Katie beamed. "You know I'll hex you on the floor just as happily as if you were standing."

"You wouldn't assault someone who's ill, would you?"

She inspected him. "I suppose you do look moderately awful. Is it contagious?"

"Bit late now." Harry measured the distance between them with one finger. "You're probably infected already. Or you would be, if it was actually contagious."

"Good." Katie leant back against the wall. "I can probably skip one session of practise. I suspect they'll need more than one meeting to get the hang of this spell."

An array of slight shimmers and patches of bright light, wavered and flickered throughout the room. A blonde Ravenclaw paired with Ginny produced an odd, grey-tinted nebulous shield that deflected hexes at random into the other pairs around her.

"Not going to practise, Harry?" Nev asked. "Even Cedric's practising with the older students."

Harry glanced over at where Cedric was repeatedly producing a bright flash of light. "They're trying to do it wordlessly." "Can you do that?" Katie asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes. Although it's not as strong yet."

Nev stuck a hand out at Katie. "Want to practise with me, then. Your partner seems unwilling."

Katie beamed, but shook her head. "That's alright, Neville. It's quite comfy here and I'm fairly good at casting them already."

"You need to keep an eye on them." Harry grinned and inclined his head in the direction of the twins, who'd stopped attempting to shield and disarm and were busy casting tripping jinxes at Ron.

"Fred, George," Nev called, trying not to laugh as Ron stumbled and bounced off Hermione's shield to land face first on the floor. "Leave him be while he's practising."

Ron rose from the stone, nursing a red mark on his forehead, and glared at his elder siblings.

"Sorry, Ronniekins," they sniggered, returning to their practice.

"So why're you here if you aren't going to take part or teach?" Katie asked.

"I said I'd come." Harry shrugged. "I'll probably teach them all the patronus, too. Not today, though."

Zacharias Smith managed to only shield his back and his wand sailed from his hand to bounce across in front of Harry's feet.

"He's not very good is he," Katie said.

"Maybe he's only planning on running away like Umbridge insists so he only wants to protect his back," Harry suggested.

"I am not." Smith scowled and retrieved his wand. "Shut up, Potter."

Harry smirked. "You're not going to last very long in a duel, then." Smith stalked away.

Katie sidled a little closer across the floor and yawned, resting her head on Harry" shoulder. "Wake me up if something interesting happens."

"Do I look like a pillow?"

"No." Katie squirmed around on his shoulder, then grabbed a cushion that appeared in her lap and tucked it under her head. "You don't feel like one, either." She closed her eyes.

I still need to enchant the list, but I can relax for a bit. Harry tilted his head back against the wall and let the sound of shields and wands skittering over stone fade away.

Something nudged his foot. "I think that's enough for one meeting." Nev stepped away into the middle of the room. "Keep an eye on your badges for the time of the next meeting, we'll try to organise them around things like quidditch."

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty." Harry patted Katie on the cheek.

Her eyelids flickered, then she yawned. "You're meant to kiss sleeping beauty to wake her up, Harry."

"I prefer to live," Harry said. " Someone's not a sharer."

Katie blinked, then bolted upright. "Well, you missed your chance, Harry." A wicked glint rose in her eye. "Unless you didn't and took your chance to cop a feel of me while I was sleeping." She cupped her boobs, then smoothed out her skirt. "Nope, everything seems to be in the right place." She winked. "Guess you've gotten away with it this time."

Heat crept onto his face. "Like I said, I choose life."

Katie laughed. "I wouldn't tell her. I don't want your death on my conscience."

The other students dispersed, leaving Nev and Hermione in the centre of the room alone.

Harry followed Katie out and round the corner. "I'll catch you in five, need to check when Nev wants me to teach the patronus." "I'll get us a chair in the common room." Katie bounded away.

"I could live with you having your own chair," Harry called after her.

But I'll probably fall asleep straight away anyway. He dragged a little more magic up from the remaining dregs and disillusioned himself, slipping back along the wall.

"You think we should hide the list in there?" Hermione asked Nev, looking at the wall where the Room of Requirement would form.

"Yeah." Nev nodded. "I tried to hide it earlier and found a huge room of hidden stuff. Not much chance of anyone finding it, someone in the group might guess that's where we've put it, but it won't be easy to find even if they find the hidden room."

"Let's see what you've found." Hermione turned and opened the door to the room.

Harry slipped through the door after them. It might actually be tricky to explain how Umbridge found it, but I guess as long as I'm not a suspect, it doesn't matter.

"We need to put it somewhere we'll be able to find it again." Hermione stared around at the mountains of things. "Pick something easy to recognise."

They strode a few paces into the room and stopped by an ugly looking warlock.

Nev grinned. "He'll do as a landmark. We won't be able to forget that face."

Hermione tucked the list underneath the bust, then drew out her wand and cast a couple of spells. "An anti-summoning enchantment, just in case anyone finds out it's in here and tries to find it."

Smart. There goes my first explanation of how Umbridge found it.

Harry crouched down in a small gap across from the bust next to a tarnished, silver circlet and a small collection of dust-coated bottles of fire whiskey. The sapphire-adorned tiara sparkled and shone like sunlight on water.

Pretty. Harry glanced back toward the door as it closed, then stood up and dispelled his disillusionment with a sigh. But not why I'm here.

"Accio ink, accio quill," he murmured, pulling the list out from under the bust.

He plucked a bottle of ink from the air, sending a dozen more sailing away into a mountain of chairs, and snatched the least broken quill from the scatter at his feet. Harry imbued his intent to conceal into the ink, grimacing at the toll, then dipped the quill in. He sketched a circle, labelled it with the runes for creature, keeper, and home, then drew a meandering trail from it to a final rune, Ehwaz, the Futhark representation of advancement and progress.

Ambiguous enough I can twist it to mean whatever I like, later. Harry allowed himself a small, thin smile as the ink faded from sight. Follow the spiders, Umbridge. Follow the spiders.

He leant against the bust and closed his eyes for a moment, letting some of the weight slide off him. "Almost there, Harry."

Umbridge will need to be able to find it. He coaxed one last shred of magic forth and cast a faint compulsion to keep upon the list. Marietta can feed her a landmark and then the charm will do the rest.

Harry picked up the silver and sapphire circlet; it gave a soft chitter and shivered. "Weird." He placed it on the bust of the warlock. "There, very obvious."

He took a deep breath and imbued the second part of the enchantment into the parchment as Fleur had shown him. I just need a phrase to activate the revealing part. Harry tapped his wand upon his palm and stared round the room. His eyes fell upon a stack of old, faded, yellow leaflets with Grindelwald's mark at its top. Perfect. What could be more appropriate for a man who'd sacrifice a child to save a country?

"For the greater good," he whispered, tucking the list and map underneath the bust.

AN: Do come join our growing Discord community for parody vids, audiobook links, and more! You can also find details about the early access chapters and so on there!