Three-Quarters

Harry

"I'm sorry again about running into you,"

It was the fourth time he'd apologised, but he still felt horribly embarrassed. Cho was laughing and shaking her head at this point as they traversed the hallways. After Harry had smashed into her, she'd offered to walk with him to wherever he was off too in a hurry.

"It's okay – it's funny. You just whipped around the corner. I barely had time to register that you were there." She smiled softly. "So, where are we heading to?"

"The Arithmancy class," Harry said. "It's kind of a long story though." He cleared his throat. "Are you… ready for Quidditch? You play Hufflepuff soon, right?"

"Saturday after next," Cho replied. They turned another corner, almost there. Harry was walking a little faster and Cho was matching his stride. He'd explained that Trelawney had given him fifteen minutes out of class.

"Y'know, Cho…" Harry paused in her verbiage but not his stride. "If you'd be interested… maybe we could take a walk around the lake together sometime?"

He felt deathly awkward, but he took a deep breath and tried to settle his nerves. Cho met his gaze. Her long lashes brushed her cheek as she blinked. Then, she smiled. "Sure," she said. "I'd like that a lot."

"Great!" Harry felt that his whole chest was expanding. "D'ya think maybe… Wednesday Evening?"

"Oh, I'm kinda busy. How about tomorrow?"

"I wish I could. Hermione's got a study group she's doing and, well, Draco Malfoy will be there. She can hold her own, but I hate to leave her there with him."

The shadow of a doubt passed over Cho's face. Harry moved to reassure her. "But I do want to see you! I'm not trying to blow you off. Maybe Saturday?"

"Quidditch practice for me. And your Quidditch practice is Friday as well?"

Harry sighed. "Sunday? He offered. "Any time?"

"Maybe six?"

"Perfect." He smiled at her and she smiled back at him before they turned the final corridor. "Is it the second on the left, or the third?"

"Third. I have this subject tomorrow."

Harry nodded and opened the door as quietly as possible. Still, everyone turned to glance towards the door. Harry glimpsed a blackboard full of the most complicated math he had ever seen and knew he'd encounter it again in his nightmares. "Is Hermione Granger in here?" he asked. "I've… been asked to pull her from class for a moment."

Hermione was at the front of the room and staring at him as if he, too, were made up of complex numbers. He could see her reading him and realising he was not where he was supposed to be. He was, in fact, skiving off the very class she'd told him not to skive off. And there was no way that Trelawney would ever call for Hermione.

The Arithmancy teacher nodded at Hermione. Maybe Harry getting Hermione out would have seemed suspicious if Harry had been a student at any point, but no alarms were raised. "Will she be coming back?"

"Yes," Harry said. "This will only be a moment."

Hermione left her desk and entered the hall. She nodded to Cho, who looked more confused and doubtful than before, as Harry shut the door behind her. "Hiya, Cho. What do you want, Harry?"

"I need to pass on some information." Harry glanced at Cho. "Thanks for walking with me. I'll see you on Sunday, yeah?" He didn't want Cho to think he was a nutter for what he was about to suggest to Hermione. Hermione had seen a lot of crazy things being his friend. Cho might run for her life.

Cho did not seem very happy about the turn of events. "Oh," she said. "Yeah, Sunday at six. See you, Harry." She turned and walked away. Hermione gave Harry an incredulous look as he pulled his bookbag off his shoulder.

"What?" he asked.

"What do you mean, what?" she whispered. "You like her and you're sending her away. Also, you're supposed to be in Divination!"

"That's why I'm here," Harry said, finding the parchment and putting it in her hand. "Hermione, I think this is part of a prophecy."

Hermione skimmed the parchment. Harry was very excited to explain his deduction. "You see, we're talking about couplets today. They're-"

"Rhymes."

"Yes, exactly, and if you see, the bit I added-"

"Harry, what is this?"

"What do you mean?" Harry's shoulders fell. "It's the bit off Malfoy's parchment. You haven't forgotten?"

"This isn't the bit off Malfoy's parchment." Hermione turned it around. "It is the most atrocious bit of poetry I've ever seen."

It was the prophecy Harry had invented. He snatched it out of her hand. "That's my hall pass," he explained. "I made up a prophecy so Trelawney would let me out. But then I ran into Cho-"

"And you've sent her away," Hermione tried to break in, delicately.

"Yes, well I don't want her to think I'm a loon!"

"You are a loon, Harry Potter. Now she's going to think you like me instead of her."

"Why do people think that?" He paused in fishing for the correct parchment. "That's the second time today."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Who was the first?"

"Well, this note… Trelawney made me read it in front of the whole class. And Parvati said I was supposed to run into you." Harry felt extremely awkward, holding the parchment with somewhat sweaty hands.

"You ran into Cho instead." Hermione sighed and put her fingertips to her right eyebrow. "Oh, Harry," she sighed. "I'm sorry. Parvati and Lavendar fancy themselves to be matchmakers and they're trying to predict who everyone will get together with whom."

"Wot?" Harry asked, slipping into an accent he didn't even recognise. "They think you and I…?" The thought was almost too awkward to voice.

"No, Parvati does. Lavendar thinks Ron and I. They're… I'm sorry, just forget I said anything." Hermione's cheeks were bright, bright red. "So, you think Malfoy's parchment had a prophecy on it?"

"Inkblots," Harry said. "A form of Divination. If a prophecy is strong enough, it'll write itself. And couplets are a way to determine if a prophecy is valid. Not the only way but there's a rhyme in there – I think it might be a portion of one."

"There's not a rhyme in there," Hermione said. "I've already thought of that and checked it."

"But you remember that bit I remembered?" Harry said. He finally found the slip of parchment in his bag and put it in Hermione's hands. "If you add it, it is a rhyme."

"Harry, I'm not sure where you remembered it from, but it wasn't on the bit of Malfoy's parchment." Hermione frowned as she looked at Harry's copy and his two-word addition. "Plus, couplets occur at the end of lines. 'Before' is at the beginning of a sentence. Not the end. So even though it would rhyme with 'more', it wouldn't-"

"But Malfoy also remembered something that wasn't on the parchment, right?" Harry said. "Just like I did."

Hermione paused, pursing her lips together. Then she nodded.

"Trelawney also said that there's a copy of every prophecy ever in the Department of Mysteries and people can request them. Maybe if there's a match-"

"I don't like this at all," Hermione interrupted. She handed the parchment back to him. Harry frowned. He hadn't thought it was such a bad idea. Hermione put a finger up and then walked away, then back to him. Five times she paced, then paused with her back to the stone wall. "Did Trelawney explain how to get the prophecies from the Ministry?"

"If it's a simple prophecy, anyone can request it."

"It won't be a simple prophecy," Hermione said. "A simple prophecy wouldn't write itself out on a piece of parchment."

This was a good point and it made Harry's hands fall to the side. "So we wouldn't be able to get it." He exhaled. "That's fine, I mean-"

"You wouldn't be able to get it," Hermione said. "Because the ministry thinks you're a loon. If it's a gravibus status, you'll never get your request approved from the Wizengamot." She crossed her arms. "And I'll never get mine approved because I'm Muggleborn."

"Trelawney said that we needed to have special connection to the prophecy… like, be the one it was made for or about," Harry said. "So it wouldn't matter what they think of us. We don't have a connection."

"That's what I don't like about this, Harry," Hermione said. "Remember what Dumbledore said?"

Harry paused, thinking, and Dumbledore's voice floated through him memory. He had been angry with Dumbledore, so it was hard to remember, but he thought he remembered him saying… "Malfoy's parchment wasn't cursed."

"And?"

Harry looked down at the parchment. "That he wasn't sure if it was the parchment, or the people involved."

Hermione nodded, very solemnly. Harry slumped against the wall beside her. He was now making the connection between the words and them. After a long pause, Hermione whispered, "Well, I think it's clear what we need to do now."

Harry looked at her. "It is?"

"Yes." Hermione rolled her eyes. "After dinner, you and I need to head to the hospital wing."

Harry wasn't thick, though he'd never be able to make connections like Hermione. "You think Malfoy will know?"

"Malfoy can do two things for us to confirm if this really is a prophecy," Hermione said. "First, he can tell us that bit at the beginning that only he remembers."

"And the second?"

"He's the only one of us three who could get the ministry to give him a copy of the prophecy."

Unfortunately, Malfoy turned them away without a second thought. Madam Pomfrey would not let them in. They attempted to plead with her, and she turned them about and sent them on her way.

Calling to Malfoy that it was important hadn't changed a thing either.

Everyone threw Neville a party in the common room to celebrate Malfoy finally getting punched in the face. And as the Longbottoms were as distinguished a family as the Malfoys, there was very little Lucious could do to retaliate. Neville had to suffer detentions, but was gifted with a brand new set of gobstones, a pack of exploding snap, and more chocolate frogs than could be consumed in a week.

Harry and Hermione did not join in the festivities, which sent Ron into a foul mood. He had already been nasty after Harry had returned to class to report that he had, in fact, accidentally run headlong into someone, but that the prophecy had been fulfilled. When Harry had tried to explain the irony of slamming into Cho Chang, he was greeted with a short response and a cold shoulder. Then, he'd grown more mad when Harry and Hermione had tried to visit Malfoy. Then, Hermione sat down to write a letter to Viktor Krum and that had about been the last straw.

Harry began to toil over his potions essay, which was made difficult by the noise and the excitement of the day. He had a date with Cho, he had discovered something he found quite impressive without Hermione's aide, and Malfoy had been punched in the face again. Harry felt conflicted – on one hand, they needed Malfoy for this potential prophecy mess and also for tomorrow's study group. On the other… he had wanted to see someone punch Malfoy since Hermione had in third year.

"Who do you reckon Malfoy would rather fight?" Harry asked Hermione as she finished her letter and folded it neatly. "You, or Neville?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "In a fistfight? Me. But my spellwork is the best in school. He'd be a fool to try and take me in a fight."

"So long as you're actually holding your wand," Harry said. "He got you good in the library our first study night." Her reflexes just weren't fast enough yet.

"Fair," Hermione said.

Ginny, who had not been far, raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Study night?" she asked. Harry nodded and did not offer a further explanation.

"I'm off to bed," Hermione announced. "Sleep well, Harry. If you see Ron, tell him the same."

Harry took a moment to locate Ron and found he couldn't. He sensed troubled waters brewing.

The common room cleared out slowly, but Harry stayed diligently attached to his homework. He was just finishing up when he heard a squeak. "Harry Potter, sir!"

And that was a voice he'd know from anywhere. He looked around. "Dobby?" he asked.

With a pop! The house-elf appeared beside the table his essay was on. His arms were spread out and he was wearing what looked like every single hat Hermione had ever knit for SPEW. Harry stared. In the back of his mind, he thought, "oh, that'll disappoint her."

On the very topmost hat sat Hedwig, hooting serenely and obviously cured from when she had arrived at History of Magic earlier with a hurt wing. "Dobby volunteered to return Harry Potter's owl!" said the elf squeakily, with a look of positive adoration on his face. "Professor Grubbly-Plank says she is all well now, sir!" He sank into a deep bow so that his pencil-like nose brushed the threadbare surface of the hearthrug and Hedwig gave an indignant hoot and fluttered onto the arm of Harry's chair.

"Thanks, Dobby!" said Harry, stroking Hedwig's head serenely. Looking back at Dobby, he noticed that the elf was also wearing several scarves and innumerable socks, so that his feet looked far too big for his body. "Er . . . have you been taking all the clothes Hermione's been leaving out?"

"Oh no, sir," said Dobby happily, "Dobby has been taking some for Winky too, sir."

"Yeah, how is Winky?" asked Harry. The poor house-elf had been released from service a year and a half ago at the World Quidditch Cup and still had not recovered from the heartbreak.

Dobby's ears drooped slightly. "Winky is still drinking lots, sir," he said sadly, his enormous round green eyes, large as tennis balls, downcast. "She still does not care for clothes, Harry Potter. Nor do the other house-elves. None of them will clean Gryffindor Tower anymore, not with the hats and socks hidden everywhere, they finds them insulting, sir. Dobby does it all himself, sir, but Dobby does not mind, sir, for he always hopes to meet Harry Potter and tonight, sir, he has got his wish!" Dobby sank into a deep bow again. "But Harry Potter does not seem happy," Dobby went on, straightening up again and looking timidly at Harry. "Is Harry Potter's essay not working?"

This was quite a lot of information for Harry to take in, but Dobby's question made Harry laugh. "I don't think essays ever work very well," he said. "I've not got Hermione's brain to make a really nice essay." He pushed it aside. "I've just got a lot on my mind."

The elf surveyed Harry out of his vast, orblike eyes. Then he said very seriously, his ears drooping, "Dobby wishes he could help Harry Potter, for Harry Potter set Dobby free and Dobby is much, much happier now. . . ."

Harry smiled. "You can't help me, Dobby, but thanks for the offer. . . ." He bent and picked up his Potions essay. At least he was finished now and could move on. He rolled it up and as he did so the firelight illuminated the thin white scars on the back of his hand — the result of his detention with Umbridge. "Wait a moment — there is something you can do for me, Dobby," said Harry slowly.

The elf looked around, beaming. "Name it, Harry Potter, sir!"

"I need to find a place where twenty-eight people can practice Defence Against the Dark Arts without being discovered by any of the teachers. Especially," Harry clenched his hand on the book, so that the scars shone pearly white, "Professor Umbridge."

He expected the elf's smile to vanish, his ears to droop; he expected him to say that this was impossible, or else that he would try, but his hopes were not high. . . . What he had not expected was for Dobby to give a little skip, his ears waggling happily, and clap his hands together.

"Dobby knows the perfect place, sir!" he said happily. "Dobby heard tell of it from the other house-elves when he came to Hogwarts, sir. It is known by us as the Come and Go Room, sir, or else as the Room of Requirement!"

"Why?" said Harry curiously. "Because it is a room that a person can only enter," said Dobby seriously, "when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs. Dobby has used it, sir," said the elf, dropping his voice and looking guilty, "when Winky has been very drunk. He has hidden her in the Room of Requirement and he has found antidotes to butterbeer there, and a nice elf-sized bed to settle her on while she sleeps it off, sir. . . . And Dobby knows Mr. Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and —"

"— and if you really needed a bathroom," said Harry, suddenly remembering something Dumbledore had said at the Yule Ball the previous Christmas, "would it fill itself with chamber pots?"

"Dobby expects so, sir," said Dobby, nodding earnestly. "It is a most amazing room, sir."

"How many people know about it?" said Harry, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"Very few, sir. Mostly people stumbles across it when they needs it, sir, but often they never finds it again, for they do not know that it is always there waiting to be called into service, sir."

"It sounds brilliant," said Harry, his heart racing. "It sounds perfect, Dobby. When can you show me where it is?"

"Anytime, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby, looking delighted at Harry's enthusiasm. "We could go now, if you like!"

For a moment Harry was tempted to go now; he was halfway out of his seat, intending to hurry upstairs for his Invisibility Cloak when, not for the first time, a voice very much like Hermione's whispered in his ear: reckless. It was, after all, very late and he was exhausted.

"Not tonight, Dobby," said Harry reluctantly, sinking back into his chair. "This is really important. . . . I don't want to blow it, it'll need proper planning. . . . Listen, can you just tell me exactly where this Room of Requirement is and how to get in there?"

Harry filled Hermione and Ron in the next morning about his encounter with Dobby, sans the elf's new look. Ron was still in a foul mood, but had sat beside them anyway, which Harry figured was his way of trying to come to grips with reality.

He expected both to be excited, but Ron was too mad to be excited and Hermione was wary.

"What?" he asked.

"Well . . . it's just that Dobby's plans aren't always that safe. Don't you remember when he lost you all the bones in your arm?"

"This room isn't just some mad idea of Dobby's; Dumbledore knows about it too, he mentioned it to me at the Yule Ball."

Hermione's expression cleared. "Dumbledore told you about it?"

"Just in passing," said Harry, shrugging.

"Oh well, that's all right then," said Hermione briskly and she raised no more objections.

Harry leaned down the table to tell Fred and George the directions. Then Ginny, as she sat down. "Pass it along," he told them, then returned to his seat. "We ought to let Malfoy know as well," he told Hermione. "I doubt that anyone will pass it on to the Slytherins."

"Why're you acting all buddy-buddy with Malfoy all of the sudden?" Ron complained. "Mate, it's like you've forgotten that he's an awful git."

"He is an awful git," Harry said, then paused. He glanced at Hermione.

Ron followed his gaze and his shoulder slumped. "Don't tell me you really do fancy that awful git!"

Hermione choked and pumpkin juice leaked out of her nose. Harry leaned and grabbed some napkins to pass to her as she tried to hide the ness behind her hands. He was now hiding a smile. "I dunno, Hermione, maybe you've grown fond of him helping you make sense to everyone?"

"As if!" Hermione sputtered. "No, no, Ron." She inhaled. "Malfoy, well, he's kind of become the leader of the study group. It doesn't function very well without him. And so I need him to stay somewhat on our side for that to continue."

"Can't Harry translate for you?" Ron demanded.

Harry was shaking his head, but Hermione instead turned and tapped Seamus Finnegan on the arm. "Seamus," she said. "Can you tell Ron how our one study session without Malfoy went?"

Seamus had been pointedly ignoring Harry all year because both he and his mum thought Harry was a nutter. Harry averted his eyes even though Seamus still didn't spare him a glance.

"Why? Has Malfoy backed out because of Neville yesterday?"

"No, not as far as we know."

"Oh, well, I'd prefer to not attend another study session without him. No offence, Granger, but you're scary when you're frustrated."

Harry chanced a risk at Hermione's face and saw some hurt, some anger, and some acceptance. "Thanks, Seamus," she said. She sighed and turned back to Ron. "That's why. It went so badly that no one wants to put up with me if he's not there."

"You're a good person, Hermione," Harry said. "Don't think otherwise."

"Thanks," she replied, still disheartened.

"You didn't even want to do the study group," Ron said. "What do you care if it falls apart?"

"I feel that it's a public service," Hermione said.

Ron paused for a long moment. "And?" He asked after several seconds.

Hermione looked up and met Harry's eyes. They shared a mutual sigh. Then Hermione opened her mouth and Harry put up a finger. She paused.

"Ron, Hermione and I are still suspicious about that parchment Malfoy had on him," Harry admitted. "We think it's a prophecy and Hermione reckons that she and I don't have a chance of getting it from the Department of Mysteries. We want to ask Malfoy to get it out for us."

Ron paused. "So you're using Malfoy to get a prophecy?"

"No, no," Hermione shook her head. "We're being far more patient with Malfoy than we usually are and we're trying to keep him in the loop on these two groups. We reckon he's already in both of them… it's not right to shun him."

"He attacked Neville yesterday!"

"I'm sure even Neville will agree that Neville attacked Malfoy. But Malfoy did insult him."

Ron shook his head. "Trelawney said that only people who have prophecies made about them can get them from the ministry. You think this prophecy is about-" his face suddenly twisted. "Both of you? Malfoy?"

Harry's heart sank. This is what he'd been worried the most about. Having the words "They'll come back to haunt you once more," was not something he wanted to be said about his life.

But Hermione shook head. "No, it could have just been that the prophecy was given to us. And that should be a good enough link, I think."

"Can't you ask literally anyone else?"

Harry shrugged. There had been people around, sure, but he didn't want to spread this around more than it already was. Hermione looked equally uncertain. "Let's stick with Malfoy," she told Harry, "And then ask someone else."

"If Malfoy says no, we'll have given him free information for nothing."

"And then the buck stops there and he can't get anymore."

Despite their best efforts, they were unable to make it to Malfoy before their study time in the library. For a while, everyone sat around nervously, wondering if he'd show. Seamus Finnegan even began packing up his supplies for a quick getaway. But then just before seven, Malfoy appeared. He had a fading black eye, but nothing else very wrong with him. Madam Pomfrey strikes again.

He took a seat without a word and the entire group breathed a collective sigh of relief.

Despite it being the most productive session they'd had – with them coming completely up-to-date on all their subjects and Harry finishing two assignments in a half hour – something that hadn't happened since all this was new to him and he'd been excited to know everything – Harry found it ridiculously hard to focus. He kept glancing to Malfoy.

Gradually, people packed up and left. Malfoy stayed put, translating for Hermione when she got too wordy, and nodding along to everything else. Harry could scarcely wait for the last person to leave.

Ron was not there. He had snuck off to practice being Keeper again.

Finally, it was the three of them. Malfoy made no effort to move – he had to have noticed both Harry and Hermione looked anxious to talk to him. As Luna Lovegood, who had joined the group late, left, Harry took out the parchment he'd hidden in his book and pushed it towards Malfoy.

"First off, our other meeting will happen on the seventh floor, opposite that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by those trolls."

He kept his voice low. You never knew who was listening.

"I know," Malfoy said cooly.

Harry and Hermione were both surprised. "You do?" He asked.

Malfoy sneered. "Longbottom filled me in."

What had happened to Neville? Where were these guts coming from? Harry and Hermione shared a bewildered look. "Uhm, good," Hermione said. "We just wanted to make sure… you were in the loop. Tried to find you all day. Now, second thing, we think we have an idea about that parchment writing."

Malfoy went still, then leaned forward in interest. "What?" he asked.

"Before we share," Hermione said. "Would you please tell us what you remember, one more time? I know it sounds silly, but-"

"I've never seen anything this wonderful before," Malfoy interrupted. Harry snatched a quill and scribbled it down.

"Yes, see Hermione? His bit goes before the other bits." Harry turned the parchment to show Malfoy. "Now look, this is the bit that was actually written down. You remember this bit – in my handwriting, not Hermione's – even though it was never on the parchment. And I remember this bit here – these two words."

"So?"

"Well see how this word and this word rhyme?" Harry asked. He drew an arrow from one to the other. "We think that this isn't one long sentence. We think they're couplets."

They paused to make sure Malfoy was following. He was staring at the parchment, lost in thought. Then he crossed his arms. "This is incomplete," he said. "Not a full prophecy."

Apparently the Slytherin Divination class had already happened.

"Yes, it looks as if we've only got three quarters of the puzzle," Harry said. "But we checked – the entire parchment was soaked. So this must be the full-"

"No, it can't be the full prophecy," Hermione said. The wheels in her head were turning as well. She was looking a little pale. Instead of looking to Harry, she looked to Malfoy. "I think it's impossible to assume the prophecy… that what we experienced…"

"That prophecy must be close to coming to pass," Malfoy said. "But when prophecies appear for the first time, they almost always appear as a full set." He looked to Hermione. "Right?"

Hermione looked to Harry. "This prophecy has almost certainly been made before. That means that the prophecy's magic was strong enough to come into existence in front of someone in that group – probably one of you two, since you're remembering it and you've never heard it before-"

"Draco had heard it," Harry said, and then suddenly paused. He had the urge to feel his lips. Had he really just said 'Draco' instead of 'Malfoy'? "I mean… Malfoy, you said you'd heard it before. You thought Hermione had said it?"

After a long pause, Malfoy nodded. He was looking at Harry with a very strange expression. "Yes," he said. "And I think I remember when. It was our first night at Hogwarts. Granger said it in the boats. And I think…" He paused. "There's at least a stanza more. You said something odd to me right before you were sorted, Granger. I can't remember what it was though."

Hermione was shaking her head. "I don't remember," she said. "Right before I was sorted…" then a little light came into her eyes. "Actually, I remember being confused at myself. As if the thing I had just said had confused me. But I don't remember what it was."

Harry shook his head. "Why can't we have the full thing?" he sighed. "If you've been reciting this and it's appeared in front of us, why don't we have the full thing?"

"Prophetic magic tends to increase its binding effects as it grow more imminent," Hermione explained. "Remember how Malfoy just said that the prophecy must be coming to pass?"

Harry looked to Malfoy for an explanation.

"She means that prophecy magic gets stronger the closer it gets."

"Ah."

Hermione pushed the prophecy a little closer to Malfoy. "If this prophecy is being made though one of you two-"

"Granger, like it or not, you're involved with this too," Malfoy interrupted. He took the parchment off the table and examined it. "You don't think you are because the bit you remember happens to land within what we have written down. But I have a feeling that if you were like Potter and I, and you were a sentence off or two words off, you would have known what those words were supposed to be."

Hermione's shoulders dropped. Malfoy continued glaring at the parchment. "This has to be something that we're tied into, somehow. I have a line… you have a line… Potter has a line… who has the fourth line?"

"There are a lot of people in our group," Hermione said. "It could be Seamus, or Neville, or-" she put her lips together. "But if there are four lines in this stanza, and we had all four present, when why didn't we get the full prophecy? It seems to imply that… well… the other person is not nearby."

"Ron wasn't there," Harry said softly.

"Or any number of Slytherins," Malfoy said.

"Most of the school wasn't there, mate. And there's almost no way to narrow it down." Hermione gestured to Malfoy for the parchment and smoothed it down. "See, Harry's finished his stanza. Malfoy's finished his. We have no way of knowing if the line that matches the middle one is before Malfoy's or after Harry's. If we had a word on either side, we could ask people to try and complete it. And statistically speaking, magic works best when- "

The parchment emitted a sizzling sound. All three stared at it. A horrible, horrible smell began to emit from it, and smoke drifted upwards. Hermione dropped the parchment and it caught fire on the table. "Augamenti!" she declared, and doused the parchment with a stream.

It only took a moment and the flames were out. But another curious thing had happened. The parchment was completely dry. And burned into the parchment in lines so even that they looked typed was a single word. "And".

"Right," Harry said. "I'm about ready to take this mess back up to Dumbledore."

Malfoy stared at the word. "And?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

"Well, now we have a way of narrowing it down," Hermione said, a little nervous. "I'm not sure I like this though. It feels too… real."

"Welcome to life," Malfoy drawled. Then, under his breath, "Wizards and witches, we've got 'em."

"You wot, mate?" Harry asked.

Malfoy ignored them and gestured to the parchment. "Well, what do you reckon? We start asking people around Hogwarts how they'd finish this stanza?"

This seemed like a reasonable idea to Harry. "I reckon they'd be like us and just know it by heart without knowing it."

"You'd never be able to ask enough people," Hermione interrupted. "Not without drawing attention. I think the best course of action, actually, would be if Malfoy would be willing to get in touch with his father."

Malfoy jolted and nearly repeated what Harry had asked: "You wot now?"

Hermione gestured to the paper, afraid to touch it. "If this is a prophecy and it was not made for the first time, then it'll be on record with the Department of Mysteries. It's probably a very powerful prophecy. Did you go over the Department of Mysteries in your Divination class?"

Malfoy shook his head. Harry wasn't surprised – it had been a special request of his class. "In our class, we learned that simple prophecies can be requested by anyone. Moderate prophecies require a little background check. But very powerful prophecies, it has to be made either to or about you and it has to get a Wizengamot Approval. Between the three of us, if we were to request it, you've got the best shot at getting the full thing. We were wondering if you would share it with us, too?"

Malfoy looked immensely disturbed. He leaned away from them. His face seemed frozen into a permanent scowl. But he nodded. "Fine," he whispered. "Yes, I can write to my father tonight, and if I can get it, I'll show you a copy."

Something felt off about the situation. Malfoy didn't seem very… secure. Maybe it was this that prompted Harry to say, "Only if it's safe for you."

Malfoy's gaze seemed to bore into his soul. "It's late," the blonde-haired kid said. "I'm going to bed." He picked up his bookbag and left without another word.

That night, as he was getting ready for bed, Harry chanced a conversation with Ron, who was playing chess with Neville. Why Neville had agreed to chess, Harry couldn't understand, because he still couldn't tell the bishop from the pawn. Ron was basically playing both sides.

"Neville," Harry said after watching them battle for a few minutes, "Can I switch you out? I need to talk to Ron."

Neville gave a huge sigh of relief. "Sure, you can lose for me," he said, and got up from where he'd been kneeling on Ron's end-of-bunk chest. "Sorry I can't do much else anyway."

"I can't beat Ron either. No worries."

Harry took Neville's spot on the bed and moved a piece. Ron scanned the board and moved another, stealing one of the seven pieces Neville had on the board. He'd only managed to take three of Ron's. Checkmate was imminent.

"Ron," Harry whispered. "I, uh, wanted to ask you something. Just… your quick thoughts on something."

Ron stole Harry's knight, the last non-pawn he had. "Is it about Hermione?" He asked. His voice was a little squeaky.

"Sort of," Harry said. "It's about Malfoy's parchment again."

"Oh bloody hell, not this again-"

"Just answer one question for me, and I'll leave you alone!" Harry pleaded. He had the scrap of parchment in his robes now and began to fish for it as he moved a pawn forward to avoid a check. As expected, Ron stole it away. "Here it is. Just tell me how you would finish this, please?" Harry cleared his throat. "I've never seen anything this wonderful before, something solid and very powerful and old. They'll come back to haunt you once more, and…" Harry looked up.

"And turn all your friends loony. Your turn, mate. Check."

Harry's heart sank. He glanced at the board and saw there was only only place he could go to. He slid his king over.

"Checkmate," Ron said. With a snap of his fingers, he reset the board. "One more round before bed?"

"No, thank you Ron," Harry said. "I'm going to run downstairs for my textbook real fast and I'll be right back."

He got up off the chest and stuffed his feet into his slippers before leaving the boy's dorm. He felt extremely discouraged as he headed down the stairs.

Hermione was waiting besides the fireplace. "How did it go?" she asked, though she could probably tell by the look on his face.

Harry shook his head. "It's not Ron, apparently."

Hermione nodded. "I thought it wouldn't be. Really powerful symbols come with divisions. Light and dark. Good and evil. I assumed that it would be two females and two males in our group…" She paused. "If it really is a prophecy."

"I just don't want Ron to feel left out again…" Harry said. "I mean… you've seen him the last few years. He thinks we're ganging up on him." He took a seat. "To be honest, Hermione, I wouldn't be disappointed if I found out that the prophecy had only been recited to us. Seems a lot safer than potentially being in it."

"I get it," Hermione agreed. "I feel similarly. To be honest, I thought… before Malfoy said anything… that I wasn't a part of it and I only remembered the line because I'm so good at memorizing things. But I was reading through my old copy of Hogwarts, a History and – I swear, you'd better not think I'm barmy, Harry – I had it written under my title page."

"You wot, mate?" Harry asked. "You're not doing a bit?"

"I'm not," Hermione shook her head. She revealed the book from under her arm. "Look."

Her finger had bookmarked a page with handwritten scrawl. It had obviously been done a few years ago, as Hermione's handwriting was much nicer now, but still said "Something solid and very powerful and old."

They were both quiet for a moment. Then Hermione said, "D'ya reckon we should go to Dumbledore or McGonagall?"

But Harry, who was still mad at Dumbledore for not talking to him, shook his head furiously.

The next chapter will be called Fight Club. I will post the next chapter early if I get five reviews.