There was something to be said about sneaking around, keeping such a big secret from everyone else. Harry was well versed in operating stealthily, having explored many of the hidden parts of Hogwarts and disobeyed every rule in the book. Keeping his growing connection under wraps, however, was an entirely different prospect, which only added to the excitement he felt whenever he saw her. Even if those meetings were few and far between.

The opportunity to meet up with Enola and explore the more physical elements of a new relationship was something that gave Harry a giddy energy, the sort of childish positivity he'd very rarely experienced first hand. Except, as they returned to school for what would be their final year, he knew that it was going to be even harder to keep the truth hidden. Whilst at Grimmauld Place, there was less danger of someone catching them in the act, whilst Hogwarts was full of students who'd relish the undeniably juicy gossip.

Harry had had his love life paraded on the front page of magazines and newspapers ever since he'd returned to the wizarding world. It gave him further motivation to hide his feelings for Enola, as confusing and as complex as they were. For once, he was getting the better of the journalists. For once, even the Hogwarts rumour mill was no match for him. Even his friends and that growing list of confidants didn't seem to have a clue, though that was the sorest point for Harry to stomach.

With it being their seventh year, they'd made a pact to travel by the Hogwarts Express for what might have been the last time. Whilst they had a Tardis at their disposal, it was only right that they maintained tradition. And their compartment was packed with a lot more people than when he, Matthew and Hermione had first made that same journey. With all those who joined them soon turning their attention to what was waiting for them.

They might have discussed the threat of NEWTS and how their lives outside of Hogwarts would forever be defined by the months ahead. Hermione certainly campaigned for that conversation, though found little encouragement. They could have shared their opinions on what they suspected Voldemort was up to, strategising their next steps. But, in the end, one room in the castle in particular overshadowed everything else, the one thing that filled Harry with more excitement than anything Enola was capable of.

Much to Harry's chagrin, they couldn't head to the Seventh Floor straight away. That first feast back, as much as he wanted to savour the experience and the last, daunting song of the Sorting Hat, he couldn't help but fantasise about what was waiting for them. He'd even been too distracted to appreciate some of the gasps when Draco had momentarily sat at Gryffindor table, a moment that would surely be etched into the history books of the school.

A return to everyday, Hogwarts life also meant a return to lessons, with those initial days passing like a slog for Harry. With his eyes firmly set on the weekend, it was difficult to concentrate on what was being said, even when Hermione was constantly nudging him whenever a faraway look crossed his face. Matthew also took to prodding him with his walking stick, making Harry jump up in shock every time, before looking perfectly innocent as soon as the likes of McGonagall noticed the disturbance.

When they'd been together in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione had been ready to give him a lecture at any given opportunity. The issue was that Harry agreed with her. He knew how important it was to concentrate and how vital it was that he didn't throw away the work he'd done over the past six years. But how was he supposed to think about the future when the years ahead weren't a given? How could he be expected to focus on exams, when they were potentially one step closer to ridding the world of a monster?

Once that was out of the way, then he could sweat about revising.

It meant that Harry was practically bouncing for joy by the time that first Saturday arrived and he was standing outside the Room of Requirements. He'd gotten there early, for two separate reasons. He'd wanted to test the cause for the door's appearance, given how it was a temperamental beast to navigate. And he'd made the bold decision to invite someone else along to join them in their exploration, a choice that required him to steady himself for the angry onslaught likely to be thrown at him.

It came within five seconds of the others' arrival.

"What is she doing here?" Matthew hissed.

Thanks to the room's position, the rest of Harry's friends could see his companion as soon as they entered the corridor. It meant that there was a long, painful walk until they were standing directly in front of them, with their expressions darkening with every step. Matthew, as might have been expected, led the pack, before coming to an abrupt stop just a few feet from the waiting pair. Perhaps as a way of outlining the potential threat, his cane had melted away during his approach, slowly replaced by the wand he was now pointing right at them.

Harry was doing his best to stay calm and was trying to think of a way of comforting Enola, who'd told him in no uncertain terms just how bad of an idea it was to involve her. Yet there she stood, and they were going to face the music as a result. The temptation was to place his hand on the small of her back, a physical way of assuring her that he was there for her. But such perceived intimacy would have only poured fuel onto the fire, which already looked to be turning into a blaze.

"You need to hear me out," Harry began.

"I've already done that plenty of times," Matthew argued, still seething. "And each and every time, she's let you down. I'd like to know what's forcing you to make these same, idiotic mistakes if I didn't already have an idea."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're not thinking straight."

"I'm thinking perfectly rationally. Something you'd understand if you gave me the chance to explain myself."

Evidently still unconvinced, Matthew held his arms out wide, giving Harry the space to take the floor. He still hesitated. It would have been bad enough to just have the argument with Matthew. But the boy was flanked by five other people, all of whom knew what Enola had done in the past. Trying to convince them all at the same time was likely a fool's errand, but he still felt that he needed to try. It was the first step along the road to recovery.

Harry cleared his throat. "Speaking to Dumbledore, he's been able to sweep half the room. With little success, I have to add. Whilst he's set us up well, there's still a decent sized chunk of space that we have to cover. My thinking was that it's best for us to have as many hands on deck as possible, and Enola's certainly more capable than the average witch."

"She's definitely capable of a lot of things," Matthew quipped. "Though most of them are unsavoury."

Her lips thinned. "If it's any consolation, I told Harry that this wasn't going to work out."

"Finally, something we can agree on."

"Largely because I knew straight away that you'd be too ignorant to see sense."

"Do you really think that throwing insults is going to help your cause?" Hermione asked, joining the heated discussion at last.

"He started it."

"That sort of petulance won't get us anywhere."

"I ignored Enola's points because she's an undeniable asset," Harry explained. "She's shown an affinity to horcruxes in the past, the sort of skill that'll make searching for one in such a cluttered room much easier."

"The same skill that Hermione has showcased plenty of times," Matthew countered. "So we're good. Enola can toddle off and try her luck next time."

"I know that Hermione's just as adept at picking up on magical auras, but isn't it better to have as many people like that as possible? And, when she's experienced it beforehand, Hermione has experienced negative side effects. I thought that, by involving Enola, that'd lessen the load on her. You know, make it easier for her. And everyone, really."

Matthew hummed. "Yeah, I'm sure that was your priority."

"What are you trying to suggest? If you've got something to say, say it."

Harry knew that he was skating on thin ice. He knew that he shouldn't have been pushing his luck. Bringing Enola into the fold was one thing. To admit at the same time that they'd kissed…the fallout would have been apocalyptic. Harry, though, was too annoyed to properly heed the warning signs, incensed by Matthew's stubborn belief that he was right about things. And it meant that he was pushing the boundaries of what he could get away with saying.

Matthew took a dangerous step forward. "When did you come up with this plan of yours? You must have spoken to Enola to suggest it. So it then stands to reason that you've spoken to her enough to pop this idea into your head. When did you get so chummy with her?"

"When we got back to Hogwarts," Harry lied. "The idea came to me over summer break, since I couldn't stop thinking about the horcrux. Enola's helped so much in that regard that it would have been stupid to not involve her now."

"And it's a chance for me to prove my loyalty," the girl in question said, some of her own anger starting to dissipate.

Matthew spared her a quick glance. "I reckon you've already had that chance."

"Do you not believe in second chances?"
"You're at least on your third or fourth. I'm struggling to keep up."

"Then send me away. If you truly don't want me here, then I'll leave. I've got enough pride left to not stick around where I'm not wanted."

Harry honestly didn't know what Matthew's response was going to be. There was every chance that he'd opt for a hex to prove his point, though such a fight was the last thing they needed. The fact that he didn't answer right away seemed to suggest that Matthew was just as conflicted when it came to Enola as Harry was. It appeared to be a direct contrast to what Harry was feeling at the same time. Whilst Harry's growing affections were nullifying his unease around the girl, Matthew's bad experiences were overshadowing the love he'd once shared for her.

"She's a useful tool," Daphne pointed out, once the silence stretched on for too long. "Personally, I don't think we can allow personal vendettas get in the way of us defeating Voldemort."

Ginny was nodding her head. "Yeah. And I'm getting bored of standing around. The door's right in front of us. We've been waiting months for this opportunity. If we were to delay again, that could give him the time he needs to pull the rug right out from underneath us."

Harry still waited for Matthew's verdict, so dearly wanting his best friend to be onboard. The interjection of the others appeared to have taken the fight out of him, with his shoulders sagging. Instead of answering one way or another, Matthew simply took a few steps back, rejoining Hermione's side. It was the clearest sign of acceptance that Harry was going to get, though it still left a sour taste in his mouth. He just hoped that Enola wasn't going to drive a permanent wedge between the two of them, if she hadn't already done so.

"Right," Draco said, clapping his hands together. "That was unnecessarily awkward. Can we get on with this? If I spend too much time in your company, I start to feel ill."

Harry rolled his eyes, in part thankful for Draco's crude injection of levity, since it lifted some of the remaining tension. It would have been a strange thought once upon a time, to connect the Malfoy boy to the concept of levity, but too many strange things had happened for it to trouble Harry too much.

He gestured to the door. "Be my guest."

"Did Dumbledore figure out the mechanics behind the room's appearance?" Hermione asked.

Leave it to her to move past her ill feelings through the sheer power of her curiosity. Harry smirked, glad for the return to normality. And it was nice to cling onto something so similar. Things had changed so much, including the people he now kept company with, that it sometimes felt like he didn't know who he was anymore. To have Hermione there, forever asking questions out of a thirst for greater knowledge, was to have a reminder of what he still had from his first days at Hogwarts.

"He visited here enough over the summer holidays to figure it out, yeah," Harry replied. "For some reason, the door only shows itself to those who desperately need it. As it turns out, the House Elves have known about it for years, but never thought to bring it up. And I'm pretty sure that Dumbledore used it as a toilet once without realising."

Neville scrunched up his brow. "I don't remember seeing a toilet inside. Do you think it has access to indoor plumbing?"

"That's your main concern?" Draco wondered in obvious disbelief.

"I'm not going to apologise for wanting to know how things work. It could be important."

"How could indoor plumbing be important?"

"...if we needed to escape. Yeah, you didn't think of that, did you? We could wriggle through the pipes."

Daphne scrunched up her nose. "I'm not wriggling through anything."

"Maybe we're getting a little bit off track," Harry interjected, holding up his hands. "Dumbledore seemed to believe that the room changes based on the needs of the user, hence the title. And that fits based on what we've seen. If Voldemort wanted the perfect place to hide a small object, then he got his wish. And, because we were so desperate to find the horcrux, it let us into the same room."

"You'd think it would help us a little bit more," Draco grumbled. "Maybe a flashing neon sign right above what we're looking for."

"Nothing related to the horcruxes has been easy. Why start now?"

It was one of Harry's main concerns when it came to involving other people in the search. He was yet to see whether they had the resolve to jump over every hurdle put in front of them. Would the challenge become too much? Would they have to bail? Would he actually blame them for that? If he'd been given a choice, there was a good chance he would have turned a blind eye. But, if they were going to succeed, then they were all going to have to put the hard graft in.

Knowing that they'd stalled for long enough (largely thanks to his own surprising choices), Harry walked up to the door so that they could enter the chamber once again. It still looked the same, if a little neater towards the left hand side of the room. The challenge ahead of them still appeared as daunting as ever leaving Harry relieved that he had brought Enola along. If there was a way that they could speed up the process, then they needed to cling onto any advantage they could get.

"Do you know what parts of the room Dumbledore was able to look through?" Hermione wondered.

"Basically anything dead-on and two our right hasn't been touched yet," Harry outlined. "You can understand just how much work there could be ahead of us."

"We could get lucky," Neville replied hopefully. "We could stumble across it or something."

"The last thing you want to do is stumble across a horcrux," Draco pointed out. "They're nasty pieces of work from what I've heard."

Hermione was nodding her head. "Speaking as someone with more experience than I'd like, you don't want to end up touching a horcrux if you can avoid it. If you think that something could be a horcrux, then it's best to leave it alone and shout for back-up."

"Maybe we should split up," Harry suggested. "We've got an even number now, so pairs make sense. Neville and Ginny, Draco and Daphne, Matthew and Hermione, then me and Enola. It works out perfectly."

He was pushing his luck, that much was clear. He fully expected Matthew to say something, another poisonous jibe that would put Harry's intentions into disrepute. Instead, the other boy barely reacted to the idea, his arms still folded and that same sour look upon his face. Harry knew that he was going to have to do a lot of work to mend those particular bridges, but that wasn't a problem he could focus on for the time being. Even if a horcrux was involved, he was relieved to have a distraction.

Hermione was already dragging Matthew down a row of shelves, bustling with shining artefacts. "It looks as if you've already made up your mind, so there's no point in arguing."

There was a razor sharp edge to the girl's tone, and it was one that left Harry wincing. Being in Matthew's bad books wasn't the ideal situation, but testing his friendship with Hermione as well left him dangerously exposed. There were some sympathetic looks from the others as they began to disperse, mainly from Neville, but their commiserations did little to ease Harry's concerns. Was he pushing two vital relationships in his life to one side in the hope of securing another?

If you looked at it from a purely mathematical standpoint, then it didn't make much sense.

But when he soon had Enola's hand slipping into his own, he was reminded of what he was fighting for.

"That could have gone better," she said with a sigh.

"It went just about as well as I imagined," Harry answered honestly.

"Smart move, sending Matthew off in another direction. Give him time to cool off."

"That's if he ever cools off. Right now, I'm not so sure."

"He'll come around."

"How can you be so sure? He hasn't exactly welcomed you back with open arms."

"Because he cares about you. He loves you. He's not going to throw that away, especially when you need him more than ever. He's an idiot, but not that much of an idiot."

"So you don't think he'll accept you? It'll just be because of me?"

"I think that's as good as you're going to get. He comes out in a deep rash whenever he thinks about me." She gave him a soft nudge. "Come on, we can't hang around here all day. They'll start to get suspicious."

"I get the sense they already are. I'm worried that the damage has already been done."

With that troubling thought ringing around his head, Harry allowed himself to be pulled deeper into the room. Having spent some time within its confines before the previous year had finished, he shouldn't have been surprised at his size and depth. And yet it still completely baffled him. It felt like it had somehow grown since he'd last visited, as if the room had expanded to better fit its bill as the perfect hiding space. Harry just wished that it didn't take the job so seriously.

The benefit of having Enola around was that they could skip over most of the items, using her understanding of magical auras to weave through any potential candidates. More often than not, she would walk along the rows of shelves without reacting in the slightest, like she was relying on the horcrux to jump out at her. Whether that was going to happen in either the physical or metaphorical sense largely depended on the defences Voldemort had placed around the item, the main thing that kept Harry cautious as they wandered further into the treasure trove.

In truth, Harry wanted to take it slower and explore a touch more than they were actually doing. There was no telling what secrets, besides the horcrux, lay dormant. What if there was an all-powerful object that would help them against the Dark Lord? What if there was a rare book that would give away the secrets of magic like never before? He wasn't given the chance to answer any of those questions, with how quickly Enola was navigating the labyrinthine space.

There was a voice in Harry's head that made him feel like a spare part. It was rather obvious that Enola hadn't worked alongside anyone else for quite some time, since it seemed that she'd completely forgotten that he was there. He was following her along like a lost puppy, waiting to be useful. But what could he actually do to help? With the removal of the horcrux from within his head, Harry had lost that valuable (but manipulable) connection to Voldemort, which meant he had less chance of sensing the evil artefact they were searching for.

It felt as if they'd been walking for miles before Enola eventually came to a stop, though she didn't look to be any closer in finding what they needed. Harry had no clue where the others were or whether they were even still inside the room. It was the perfect space to get lost in, and he wondered if they'd ever be able to locate the exit ever again. Yet he was more intrigued by the soft look upon Enola's face as she stared at him.

"You're pouting," she said.

He schooled his expression as quickly as he could manage. "No, I'm not."

"You're also a rubbish liar. I thought you would have gotten better at that by now."

"I have had a lot of practice, to varying degrees of success."

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong? Are you bored? Did you really think this was going to be done in an instant?"

"It's not that. I'm prepared to do this well into the night if we have to."

"I'm not entirely certain that your friends will agree with that sentiment."

"I never said that they'd have to. If I have to finish this on my own, I'll do it. It's basically prophesied that I'lI have to face Voldemort on my own, right at the end. I may's well get the practice in."

"But?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"But…I'm starting to wonder whether I could actually do this by myself, if push came to shove. It's not like I'm being much help right now."

"You're keeping me company."

"As nice as that is, I should be doing more. But I can't sense auras like you."

"Of course you can. You're just not used to it. In fact, you're used to doing completely the opposite. You've lived your life, tuning out the auras of magical people around you. Since you've unlocked your pure magic, it's like you've been given another sense. You just have to…train it, I suppose. Let it mature."

Harry sincerely doubted whether he was capable of that. And he was even more certain that he wasn't going to pick up the skill quick enough to be any help in their current help. He must have shown that level of disbelief, because Enola was soon rolling her eyes with a huff. She approached him with little ceremony, holding both of his arms so that she could look right into his arms. If he'd realised that moping would put him in such a position, he would have considered it much earlier.

"Close your eyes," she instructed.

Harry hesitated. "Why? What are you going to do to me?"

"Close your eyes."

He liked to see himself as someone who didn't instinctively follow the rules. That was down to the Marauder blood filling his veins. But there was a dangerous edge to Enola's voice which he wasn't willing to second guess. And so he dutifully listened to the order, closing himself off to the rest of the world, though she still clung onto him tightly. It was like she was anchoring him to reality, just in case he happened to drift away.

"You need to pay closer attention to your surroundings," Enola explained. "You can feel the pure magic inside you, I know that. All the training you did with Matthew made sure of it. Now, I'm asking you to pay attention to the way your pure magic is interacting with the rest of the world. What's it reaching out towards?"

"I…don't know."

"Have a little bit of patience, please. I'm trying to make this as easy for you as possible. Right now, we're not near any strongly imbued artefacts. No horcruxes to distract you. Not in this section of the room, anyway. That should mean there's only one thing that your pure magic will be connecting with, out of sheer familiarity."

Harry scrunched up his face, attempting to make sense of her words. Those lessons Matthew had taught him about the art of meditation were coming in handy as he took stock of his body from head to toe. The magic inside him swelled fiercely in his chest, but sparks could still be felt at the end of his extremities, looking to escape. As he focused more, falling ever deeper into the trance, he started to realise that there was more magic there than he'd first realised.

It wasn't his own magic, which accounted for his initial sense of confusion. It was warm and recognisable. Even with his eyes closed, Harry began to see the form of Enola in front of him, glowing with the same sort of power he'd seen erupt from her fingertips. It coalesced with his own energy, the two vibrant colours mixing together as if they longed for one another. He watched it play out in avid fascination, feeling closer to her than ever before.

She didn't instruct him to, but Harry opened his eyes slowly. Enola was still solely focused on him, those amber eyes looking into his soul. If she'd been trying to make a point, he hoped that he was picking up on the right signals. The sort of motivation that pushed him to claim her lips. She didn't seem surprised by the development, as if it was exactly what she'd hoped for, and Harry mentally patted himself on the back for passing her test.

Driven by the heated passion, Harry's hands moved to the small of her back, whilst Enola remained holding onto him with a vice-like grip. Taking control, he pushed her backwards until she was pressed up against the nearest solid surface, one of the shelves they should have been rifling through. A few objects clattered to the floor, clanging loudly, and they both laughed at their clumsy awkwardness, which only pushed them deeper into the kiss.

"We might have found something, Harry."

They both froze, even if it was already too late. When Harry disentangled himself from Enola, he stumbled slightly, which left him unsteadily facing exactly the last person he wanted to be standing there. He might have expected Matthew to greet them both with righteous fury but it was far worse from that. The look of sheer disdain was more painful to directly witness than any sort of anger, as if Matthew couldn't even recognise Harry anymore.

If the others had managed to locate the hidden horcrux, then it seemed that Harry had found something else entirely.

A whole word of trouble.