The Dark Peace

This is a fan-fic that I've had running around in my head for awhile. About a month and a half ago I dreamed the first part of the idea and it's just sort of taken off from there. I rewrote the first chapter recently and apart from that, it takes place shortly after the last chapter of Flashes and Glimpses. I have a lot written for this fan-fic already, so I'll be able to update fairly regularly. Reviews (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?p=1222619#post1222619) are, as always, appreciated. Anyway, enjoy reading.

I've received a couple of comments about how confusing the first chapter was, and I've thought for awhile about how people, trying to read this, might find it absolutely impenetrable and not go on to read the rest of the story as a result. So I've completely and totally rewritten the first chapter. Enjoy... I hope. ;)

***

Salazar Slythern stormed into the chamber, seething. He was positively alight with fury. Another man stood at the other end of the chamber, hair tangled and matted, face pale. Slytherin strode up to this man and struck him.
“This is the last I’ll have of it!” Salazar shouted. “Your conspiracies with the centaurs end here! HERE!” He screamed, striking the man in the stomach.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the man whispered, full of fury.
“Garm, when the five of us first dreamt of a British wizarding school I thought we had everything in common. I thought we agreed that only certain types of wizards are good enough! I thought we agreed that other creatures aren’t worth bothering with, and the centaurs, of all beasts...! They’re dangerous, Garm! Siding with them will only lead to our destruction!”
“You’re wrong, Salazar! The centaurs are wise; wiser than us! They have impossible secrets, and if we find themselves on their right sides...”
“Yes, and who’s on their right side, Garm? Who? Just you.” Salazar’s voice dropped to whisper. He spoke slowly and dangerously. “How am I supposed to know what you talk about with those centaurs? If you knew their secrets you could do terrible and incomprehensible things to anyone you didn’t like... to me, for instance... I know you don’t like me...”
“That’s not true.” Garm insisted. “That’s just not true, Salazar. I have been keeping a secret, and I wanted to wait until all of you were together, and I could talk to Rowena, Helga and Godric, too. But if you’re so insistent...” he took a breath. “The centaurs are willing to tell me the secrets of the forest. They have magic, you see... and it’s... it’s unimaginable. It’s beyond knowing, beyond wondering... They’ve shown me traces, and I can’t stop thinking about it. It runs through my mind constantly, like a golden thread or a shimmering diamond wing of a bird lost in the fog... I don’t know, I don’t know... But I was going to share all these secrets with you. You, and the others, because you’re more than friends to me. You’re like family, Salazar. But... but if your mistrust for me has grown to this height... if your paranoia does not desist... You’re like a brother to me! Do you have any idea how much you’re hurting me?” Garm asked weakly.
“I don’t care about that anymore.” Salazar hissed. “So you’re willing to side with the centaurs, are you? Keeping secrets already, I see... you’re already just like them.” He paused and gazed at Garm venomously. “Why don’t you go then? Why don’t you leave Hogwarts and go to the centaurs? I don’t care about their magic. Pure-blooded wizards are infinitely more powerful, and if you don’t realize that then you’re deluded. Foolish and deluded.”
Garm closed his eyes and put his face in his hands, shaking, struggling to keep himself composed.
“Well...” he stuttered, “well... well, if that’s... if that’s really the way you feel, then... Then I’ll go. If you honestly think that wizards are more powerful, then... then I don’t suppose the centaurs’ magic would do you any good anyway... Tell the others, would you? I know... I know the first students are bound to arrive soon... And I wish I could’ve been here for them... Apologize for me, would you? Please...” Garm said, and went to lay a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Salazar moved away and turned his back. Garm nodded.
“Well... I... I suppose... I’ll be off then.” he said. Garm walked away, past Salazar and out of the chamber. Salazar called after him,
“No-one will ever know you existed! Future generations will know the four founders of Hogwarts, and never whisper a word about a fifth!” Salazar’s voice quavered. “You’ll be forgotten!” he howled.

A New Life

Godric Gryffindor returned to his chamber in the tower high above the school.
The Sorting Hat lay upon his desk and his sleeping phoenix slumbered on his perch near the open window.
"I can't believe it!" Godric shouted. "He didn't have any right... he ran him out of the castle!"
The phoenix stirred. The sorting hat blearily opened an eye.
“What happened?” The Sorting Hat asked.
"I just found out from that coward Salazar... he chased Garm out of the castle this evening. What are we going to do? We're supposed to open Hogwarts soon! If anyone gets wind of this... the humiliation... I couldn't put a stop to it. What will people say?"
The Sorting Hat grew pale.
“And what about me?" the hat asked. "Where will I put Garm's students? The pacfists, the rebels, the dreamers, what will become of them?”
Godric ran a hand through his long hair.
“I don’t know. I don't know... We'll have to make do. Helga can have some- she's willing- and Rowena and I can take some..."
"But it's all wrong." the hat protested. "What will we tell the students?"
"We won't tell them anything." Godric whispered. "Garm is gone, and as far as anyone is concerned, he was never here. I should've been able to stop Salazar..."
The phoenix swooped off its perch and gently settled on Godric's shoulder, nuzzling against his cheek.
"I know, I know..." Godric said absently. "Everything will be fine... I know... everything will be alright..."

***

Garm stepped into the forest and was enveloped in the darkness.
“Good evening.” rang a silky voice.
“Good evening.” Garm smiled at his friend, even though he couldn’t see him.
“Are you ready to hear what we have to tell?” the voice asked.
“Yes, yes... all of it.”
“I wouldn’t tell this to anyone else... I wouldn’t tell this to anyone who didn’t belong here.”

This will be the last update until next Wednesday... I'll be out of town until then. This story's going really well though... I've finished chapter ten.

***

In the Ministry of Magic an Unspeakable calmly swept down the miles and miles of shelves each containing thousands of glowing jars of light, each a different colour, each burning in a different way. Another Unspeakable emerged from the end of a row clutching a long tube of glass. The light inside shone brightly and blood red.
“I’ve gathered her prophecy, sir.” the second cloaked man whispered.
The first nodded silently. “We can’t wait until midnight to open it, I’m afraid. We’ll have to forego the official ceremony. Albus asked for this information to be delivered as soon as possible. His phoenix is waiting outside...”

***

An hour later Fawkes blew into Dumbledore’s office, clasping a slip of paper tightly in her claws. The phoenix skidded to a halt on the headmaster’s desk where Dumbledore was standing eagerly, face flushed.
“Thank you, my dear.” he smiled, taking the piece of paper and starting to read it, his eyes flashing from word to word.
In scarcely a moment’s time, he crumpled the message and threw it onto the floor, bringing his fists onto his desk in frustation.
“NO!” he screamed, tears springing from his eyes. He fell backwards into his chair and buried his head in his hands.
“She’ll die either way!” he choked.

Well, I was supposed to post this yesterday, but that apparently didn't happen. Oh, well. I'll just have to combine yesterday's and today's chapters.

***

Hermione cautiously opened the door of Dumbledore’s office. She had never been here before.
“Come in, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore said quietly.
She whispered across the room and stood in front of Dumbledore’s desk. He motioned for her to sit. She did. For a long time silence hung thick in the air. Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words, and Hermione began to get the sense that something was very wrong.
Finally, the headmaster spoke.
“Miss Granger, I’m afraid I have some... some rather difficult news for you. The fact is, is that... Well, it’s very grave.” He paused for a moment and looked down at his desk. “In the aftermath of the incident at the Ministry of Magic I have asked the Unspeakables to bring me any prophecies... any information at all... about young Mr. Potter’s nearest and dearest in the hopes of ascertaining what exactly will come to pass in the second war. I was already familiar with Mr. Weasley’s prophecy, which Mrs. Weasley so... persuasively... led me to review in his first year here. Yours, however...” His voice broke and a moment he looked flummoxed. “I apologize. I will continue."
What could it be, her parents had... In the summer, they’d...
“What is it?” she insisted.
“Miss Granger, I’m afraid your future is uncertain. I will state it as plainly as can be. Your prophecy declared that sometime in late December, a few short months from now... shadows will overtake you. Severus has already informed me that an invasion by Death Eaters onto the Hogwarts grounds may take place around the same time, shortly before Christmas break. I believe these two events will be connected.”
She felt the dark flood over her. Dumbledore’s words were drowned out, her vision blurred, she felt herself shaking, screaming. A desk overturned. Now she was on the floor. She couldn’t hear... what was he saying?
...more to the prophecy... founded by a mysterious... in the balance... It is...

***

She woke up a short time later in the infirmary.
“Oh good, you’re awake.” Madame Pomfrey smiled, swishing towards Hermione. “Albus says you’ve had a fever, and were complaining of not feeling well in his office just before you passed out. You know... not many students take the initiative to plan out their end-of-year exam preparation with the Headmaster in September.”
“Is that what he told you?” Hermione asked blearily. Madame Pomfrey nodded curtly, then looked a little concerned. “It’s between you and me if you wanted to keep it a secret, of course.”
“I... just don’t want to look overzealous.”
“Of course. Nurse-patient confidentiality.” Madame Pomfrey then swept away to examine a fragile looking first year two beds down the row. Just then, Ron came running into the room.
“Hermione! I...”
“Out!” barked Madame Pomfrey.
“Is she alright?” Ron asked, thoroughly put-off.
“She’ll live!”
“Was there ever any doubt?” Ron exclaimed, looking panicked.
“I’m fine!” Hermione called to him. The two smiled at each other over Madame Pomfrey’s shoulder before the nurse half-tossed Ron out of the infirmary.
“Hormones!” she huffed, strutting back to the first-year.
Hermione shuffled off to sleep, glad that Ron had thought to visit her, her future temporarily forgotten.

It was morning in the Great Hall. The tables buzzed with the talk of hundreds and hundreds of students, talk of Gobstones, Quidditch, class schedules and summer vacations slung back and forth with an almost electric vibration. Harry and Ron were examining their schedules, delivered to them a moment beforehand, positively aghast.
“Double potions?” Ron stammered. “I barely got that O.W.L.!”
“Me neither.” Harry frowned, looking at his schedule.
Next to them, Lee Jordan grinned.
“Oh, I heard about that. Apparently hardly anyone got an Outstanding in their O.W.L. for Potions. Snape had to lower his standards a bit, I bet he’s furious about it.” His eyes flashed up to the front of the room where Snape looked just as miserable as he always had.
“Well, I’m not jumping for joy myself.” Ron shook his head, still stunned.
“At least there’s Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Harry shrugged. “We’ve got that new teacher...
Professor Taplin.”
“I wonder what he’s like.” Ron wondered. The two looked up at the staff table. Taplin was there, having a lively conversation with Flitwick. He was young, barely older than Tonks, tall and gaunt. He had long brown hair, and racing eyes that seemed keen to drink in everything at once. He made frequent hand motions in his conversation with Flitwick, showing off his unusually long fingers.
Harry nudged Ron. “What else have we got?”
The two resumed looking at their schedules when Hermione appeared beside them. Ron’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
“How did you get here?” he stuttered.
“I’m glad to see you, too.” Hermione nodded.
“What happened?” Harry asked.
She proceeded to tell them everything. Afterward, Harry stared ahead blankly for a moment.
“I’ve got to tell you something.” he finally said. “I heard my prophecy last June. But... we shouldn’t talk about it here.”
Hermione nodded and Ron looked over his shoulder. Taplin was now looking their direction with a curious expression of interest on his face.
“Yeah,” Ron muttered. “Let’s go upstairs and talk. We’ll have time before class.”
As the three walked out of the Great Hall together they passed Draco Malfoy, who leered dangerously.
“Well, if it isn’t little Potty and his friends. Had any bad dreams lately, Potty?”
Harry was hearing the screaming all the time now.
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
“What about the big, bad Black? Heard anything from him lately?”
“I said, SHUT UP!”
“No.” Malfoy sneered, his face spreading into a joyously lecherous grin. “I don’t think I will stop. I’m going to give you pain, Potter. After all you’ve done to me and my family I’m going to make your life a living hell, for as long as possible.”
“You mean until you’re thrown away into Azkaban like your dear old dad.” Ron scowled.
Draco’s face flushed into white hot rage. He tore his wand from his cloak.
“ENOUGH!” a voice barked from behind them. Harry spun around. It was Professor Taplin, looking positively livid.
“Don’t bait them, Mr. Malfoy. And you three- don’t respond in kind. Ten points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Now, I would appreciate having a word in private with Mr. Malfoy if you musketeers don’t mind...” Taplin half-smiled.
Harry, Ron and Hermione strode away heading for the stairs.
“What do you want to bet he’s a Death Eater?” Ron huffed.
“Just because he wants to talk to Malfoy doesn’t make him evil incarnate.” Hermione pointed out.
“Well, who else would want to talk to that little ferret?” Harry muttered.
“Snape talks to him all the time, and he’s not bad... well, I mean, he’s not working for Voldemort.” Hermione retorted.
Meanwhile, Taplin led Malfoy out the front doors of Hogwarts down the stairway and onto the lawn. The sky was threateningly grey.
“Mr. Malfoy, I want you to know that I completely sympathize with your plight, and that I want to help you.” Taplin declared.
“I don’t want sympathy.” Malfoy winced. “And I don’t want your help.”
“I’m sorry... I don’t think I phrased that at all well. I can understand what you’re going through.”
“No, you don’t!” shouted Malfoy. “How could you possibly understand? You never...!”
“I did!” Taplin roared. “I lost my father too, when I was only six years old.”
Malfoy turned away and tried to hold back tears.
“Go away.” he heaved.
Taplin looked reluctant, and then clapped a hand onto Malfoy’s shoulder.
“If you want to talk, you know where to find me. I’ll see you in class this afternoon.” Then the professor walked away back into the castle, feeling a weight fall onto him.
He had been there that day, in the twilight of the first war. He remembered the eyes from under the cloak. He could never forget.

Late that night Harry was asleep and dreaming.
Another victim scorched by a spell that feigned fire in his skull. The elder man fell to the floor, eyes rolling back in his head, it was an unnatural sound he produced not only out of his mouth but his whole body. The cruel wand, pointed lewdly by the Death Eater, made the body dance. He wasn’t dead yet. This curse took hours to kill and the screaming wouldn’t die. The limbs flaired about, protruding at an unnatural angle, back broken soon afterward by the dance. The scream grew higher and-
“HARRY!”
He awoke with a jolt. Ron was bending over him, panic in his eyes.
“Harry, you’ve got to wake up. It’s Dumbledore. He’s in the Common Room, he says we have to leave.”
“What?”
“He says we have to go! Now!”
“Everyone?”
“Shh! No! That’s the thing. He says he’s going to cover it all up somehow in case anyone asks questions, but that we have to leave so that nobody sees us going. Just... just come downstairs! Quickly!”
Harry tumbled out of bed but still managed to land, catlike, in a crouch. He stood and saw Ron standing awkwardly by the door, looking outside. Harry turned and saw Neville standing beside his bed, wide awake and owlish.
“Go back to bed, Neville.” Harry whispered. “This is just a dream.”
“No, Harry, I’m coming with you. Ron woke me up first.”
“Dumbledore wants you to come, too?” Harry asked, puzzled.
Neville nodded and Ron strode over to Harry so he could explain in a whisper.
“There are a bunch of us leaving tonight. Not many; only five or six. Hermione’s coming, and Neville is, too. But I don’t know who else.”
The three boys carefully crept down the stairs to the Common Room where Dumbledore was illuminated as an abstract shape against the dying fire. He turned to them and smiled kindly.
“I apologize for not being able to tell you precisely what’s going on. Once we are all out of the castle I’ll be able to explain fully.”
Harry saw that Hermione was already standing by the portrait of the Fat Lady, looking apprehensive. He wondered what she knew that the rest of them didn’t. He hoped it wasn’t anything too awful.
The five sloped down around hallways and stairwells, creeping down passageways that were hauntingly unfamiliar. Harry thought he had been down every hallway at Hogwarts but this was evidently not the case. At one point they walked into a dead-end. Dumbledore stroked the brick wall gently and it moved apart revealing a long metallic staircase descending to a lower level. At the bottom of the staircase was a figure hidden in shadow, head bowed for a moment until the soft clatter of shoes against metal alerted him to the presence of others. Dumbledore smiled in recognition.
“Hello, Giles. I trust you had no problem getting here?”
It was Taplin.
“None at all.” he said. “You didn’t explain to me though why these extra security measures were necessary. I know the history of this castle and this stairway and all the corridors it leads to... they’re never used.”
“We can’t talk here.” Dumbledore said curtly. “Despite the fact that we are in a hidden wing does not mean the walls do not have ears.”
“I understand.” Taplin nodded, opening a thick wooden door beside him. On the other side was night. The six graciously stepped outside onto the lawn. Harry drank in the fresh air. Beside him, seemingly from out of a wall, strode Luna. Beside her was Draco.
“I got her.” Draco smiled.
Dumbledore’s eyes flickered and Taplin let out a soft laugh, whispering, “Now... they’re all here.”
Dumbledore nodded, smiling strangely.
“Now we can begin.” the headmaster said.

The students and both professors stood silently in the brisk night air for a moment before Dumbledore finally spoke in a whisper.
“There has been a coup in the Ministry of Magic. A small group of witches and wizards, with powerful positions in the government, took over the Ministry earlier tonight. Cornelius Fudge and most of the Wizengamot have been murdered. The only thing we know for sure at this point is that the Death Eaters have nothing to do with the coup. They have taken advantage of the opportunity, however, to ransack and empty Azkaban of all its prisoners. Ministry workers, who may or not be under the Imperius curse, have set up a military base in Hogsmeade. They managed to break into a secret passageway leading to Hogwarts and have bewitched themselves in order to appear invisible. They are everywhere in the castle, ostensibly looking for either myself or Professor McGonagall who has stationed herself... in a safe place. I was originally planning to spirit away Miss Granger and Misters Potter and Weasley at a slightly later date, but due to the coup you will have to go tonight.”
“Why?” Harry asked. “Is it because of...”
“My prophecy.” Hermione nodded. “Yes, it is. According to a prophecy found in the Department of Mysteries I am fated to die in a Death Eater attack in the school shortly before the holidays. Dumbledore has explained to me that there is a lost city deep in the Forbidden Forest, practically on the other side, and that there is an artifact there that will be prevent me from dying.”
“That’s it?” Draco asked caustically. “Just a lost city and some vague artifact? You’re all crazy.”
“There is more to it than that, Mr. Malfoy.” Dumbledore sighed. “I know this may sound incredible, or perhaps absurd, but it all began long ago with a fifth Hogwarts founder.” And after the Headmaster told them Garm’s story he paused for a moment. “The Centaurs gave him knowledge, oh yes. They gave him the knowledge to build an artifact full of a strange and mysterious power that humans cannot even begin to understand. And from out of this power came magic billions of times more complicated, more beautiful and more terrible than anything created before or since. The force in that artifact is only beginning to be studied at the Department of Mysteries. It will save Miss Granger’s life, but that’s just the beginning. It may very well save all our lives. If we can understand the force in that artifact we can harness magic the likes of which Voldemort could never dream of. It is not his brand of dark magic either, for a lot of the most powerful magic stems from evil. Instead, this artifact’s powers grow from the purest good.”
Draco remembered his father, smiling and laughing, showing him how to ride a broomstick for the very first time, telling him unbelievable secrets about the Ministry and the magical world. They were wonderful stories, all throughout Draco’s childhood, that chilled his blood and warmed his heart. He remembered once his father told him late at night... that there was a legend of a lover of monsters who lived a long, long time ago... a man who had built a city with his fingertips, a city whose inhabitants knew the secrets of the universe. They knew how to resurrect the dead.
Draco felt a swelling of hope in his chest. This was worth it, after all.
He might be able to bring his father back to life. He ran over these thoughts in his head as, one by one, Taplin, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Draco filed through the curtain of darkness into the Forbidden Forest. He could see his father’s smile again, those warm grey eyes again, the particular smell of unicorn breath on his clothes. Soon, Draco thought, he’d have his memories returned to life.

I'm thinking of taking a break from this story for a little while- school's back in, and the homework load will start piling up soon. Besides that, I've sort of lost interest. This is probably a temporary thing though, and I've got enough updates to last until Sept. 24th. So no worries. If I haven't regained interest by then, I'll still write the story, because I have an aversion to leaving people out to hang. :p

***

For hours and hours the group marched in silence. At last, Taplin stopped and craned his neck to look upward at the foliage covering their path.
“I think it’s morning.” he said groggily. “We should stop and eat.”
“Did we bring any food?” Hermione asked. Taplin shook his head.
“We didn’t have time. There’s food in the forest, and not just animals, plants or berries. Mr. Malfoy, would you be so kind as to come with me? Thank you.”
Taplin wandered into the bush with Draco straggling after him. Ron looked at Harry and raised his eyebrows.
“We’re in the middle of the Forbidden Forest with a Death Eater and his prodigy. Does anyone have any idea how we’re going to get out of this one?”
“We don’t know he’s a Death Eater, Ron.” Hermione asserted.
“I think he’s been put into an imperius curse by the goblins.” Luna pondered mistily.
“Why would the goblins do that?” Harry asked.
Luna looked at him and blinked once.
“Well, it’s fairly obvious, isn’t it?”
Neville came out of a spell of what looked to be deep thought.
“Hey, does anyone know what the Professor meant by not getting plants, animals or berries out here? What else is there?”
“He might be referring to mushrooms of some kind. Or bark.” Hermione pointed out.
“Bark? From trees?” Ron asked, stupefied.
“It makes a good stew.” Luna nodded sagely.
“Well, if he wanted to gather anything related to botany, why didn’t he pick me?” Neville asked. “I’ve got the highest marks in herbology in our year.”
“Exactly!” Ron interjected.
“He is not a Death Eater!” Hermione declared.
“What makes you so sure of that?” Harry frowned.
“Professor Dumbledore hired him, to begin with.” Hermione explained. “Also, we don’t know anything about this man. Yes, he could be anyone, but that’s the whole point. Why do we all automatically assume he’s a Death Eater?”
“Experience.” Ron grunted. “Look at the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers we’ve had in the past. Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort, Lockhart was an egotistical maniac...” -Hermione made an odd squeaking sound at this- “Moody turned out to be a slave to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and Umbridge was an abhorrent, sadistic cow. We’ve had one decent teacher in five years. What are the odds, Hermione?”
“Fifty-fifty.” She said without hesitation. “Either he’ll be good or bad. Just because we’ve had more bad teachers than good doesn’t lessen the chances of a good teacher. It’s a simple probability problem. If you’d taken Arithmancy...”
“There’d be pig farms in the clouds by now.”
“There are already.” Luna noted.
After this, silence fell. The light shifted on leaves and trees. It seemed like hours had passed.
Still, Taplin and Draco did not return.
“Where are they?” Neville asked.
Hermione shook her head. “They’ve just gotten lost or something.”
“They’ve ruddy-well left us out here to die!” Ron huffed, red-faced.
Hermione shot him an evil look. Harry was exasperated with her optimism.
“We should’ve left a bread-crumb trail.” he said lightly. Everyone looked at him confusedly except for Hermione, whose eyes blazed fire.
“It doesn’t matter where they are!” she nipped. “We should stay here.”
“And if they’re not here in the morning?” Harry asked.
“Then...” she thought for a moment. “Then we should move on.”
“It sounds good to me.” Luna said. Hermione looked a little doubtful after this, but still sat and managed to look at least somewhat resolved. After a while, Neville fell asleep, followed by Luna and Hermione. Harry, in his last moments of consciousness, saw Ron tread softly across the leaves and wrapped an arm around Hermione. In her sleep, she smiled.
Harry’s dreams were full of shifting shadow, empty green spaces and naked sky. He climbed to the top of a tree and found a doctor’s office. Mr. Dursley walked into the room from a cabinet and told him that he had to leave. Harry was a skeleton now and flew through the clouds feeling wet and cold. The sky was yellow, but it turned black. He flew through another cloud and emerged out the other end soaked in blood. He heard Sirius call him from below.
“HARRY!
HARRY!
Harry!”
He opened his eyes. This wasn’t a dream. Hermione knelt next to him, nudging him softly.
“Harry, wake up. They’re still not back. It’s morning now... We’re going to set off without them.”

“Are you sure about this?” Neville asked cautiously as the group made to leave the little clearing.
“What else can we do?” Hermione said, looking back into the foliage for a moment hopefully. “We can’t just stay here.” she added.
“But we don’t know where this city is.” Harry pointed out.
“I think I’m meant to find it... So I probably will.” Hermione mused.
“I thought all that divination rubbish didn’t wash with you.” Ron smirked.
“It isn’t proper divination when it’s real, Ron.” she replied, smiling.
Hermione and Ron walked faster than the others and Neville, who was still a little reluctant, lagged behind. Harry and Luna wound up in the middle and after awhile she eyed him curiously.
“Do you know what’s really in this city?” she asked.
“No.” Harry said, readying himself to hear another crazy theory. Instead, Luna nodded a little and fell into silence. After a time she said, “There’s a portal to the afterlife in the city. The dead can come back to life.”
Harry heard Sirius’ voice from his dreams, beckoning him, calling. He remembered the wasted, once-handsome face tumbling through the veil. Where did that veil go? Where was his godfather now?
Luna’s eyes sparked as she surveyed Harry’s face.
“I knew you’d be interested.” she whispered.
Harry brought himself back down to earth. Luna didn’t know what she was talking about. The girl was out to lunch.
“It isn’t nonsense either.” Luna smiled amicably. “A lot of people know about it. Most of them are dark wizards though... Not the sort of people who you’d want to go around resurrecting the dead. Draco knows about it.”
Harry couldn’t help himself. “Draco Malfoy knows about it?”
For a moment Luna just grinned into the air, remaining blissfully silent.
“I think so.” she finally said. “I know how much you dislike him, but that’s not really important, is it? I know how much Sirius meant to you.”
“And your mother to you.” Harry added. “You... do you want to see her?” Immediately he chided himself for asking such a stupid question, but Luna didn’t seem to mind.
“I knew I would eventually.” She nodded. “I suppose this could end up being my big chance. But maybe not. You never know, do you? Things just sort of happen.” She looked at him again, smiling, and blinked once. There was silence after that. Their voices had drifted back to Neville.
His mother’s blank eyes stared at him. His father spouted nonsense. If they were to come back to life, would they be whole again? Neville’s sight blurred with tears and he was thankful he was alone with only the noisy footsteps of his friends somewhere ahead of him to show which way he was supposed to be going.
“I know how much boys like gum wrappers,” his mum had told him last Christmas. “and if you see my son just give him these, could you? There are lots of gum wrappers here... some for you too, I suppose. Just make sure that Neville gets most of them. I haven’t seen him in such a long time. Who are you again?”
Who are you?
Ahead in the forest Ron and Hermione walked in silence. Every now and then one stole a glance at the other, smiled, and continued walking. Hermione remembered when she’d first taken his hand on the way to the Burrow, before his life fell apart, before everything became even more complicated than it had been beforehand. Afterward, Ron, Hermione and Harry had gone to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Ron had asked Hermione if she wanted to take a walk with him around London and she’d agreed. After hours of walking around and making only small talk,
“Hermione...” he finally spoke. She spun around to face him. The London sky was black overhead.
“I think I’m losing my mind.” Ron shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve never been in this much... in this much pain.”
Hermione nodded. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” she confessed.
“You’re the only one who knows what I’m going through.” Ron said. Hermione stayed silent.
“Look, I...”
“Ron, I’m here. You can tell me anything. I know we both feel lost, and as long as we stay friends, we...”
“Hermione, I love you!” he blurted out. Everything was frozen. They had been walking apart from each other, and so there was a distance between them. Scarcely a moment passed before her arms crossed that distance and wrapped around his shoulders. They hugged each other fiercely.
“You’re all I have left.” he murmured.
She was silent, crying.
“You’re all I have...”
They kissed.

Hey, cool. We have an automatic language censor now.
Anyway, the story is going well- I've got chapters written up until October 11th now, and I'm continuing to work on it. The story is going very well.

***

Taplin and Draco flew through the woods. They hadn’t stopped in hours. Draco hurried to keep up with the professor, who kept looking behind him every couple of seconds. Draco had asked him, again and again, where were they going. He hadn’t received an answer. Finally, defeated, every bone in his body feeling as if it would turn to dust if he didn’t at least pause for just a moment, Draco asked again.
“Where are we going?”
Taplin didn’t even look at him, and his voice was almost lost to the wind.
“The others need me.”
Draco thought at first that he had misheard the professor. What kind of answer was that? What did it mean?
The images burned into Taplin’s mind and the pain of it almost slammed him to the forest floor.
That wasn’t Snape’s intent. If Taplin was knocked unconscious then they would be destroyed for sure. Taplin was their last hope.
The other professors were gone. Snape was the only one who Voldemort still considered an ally, and so he fervently, feverishly called Taplin back to Hogwarts. It was a full-scale invasion.
Sinistra, Sprout, Trelawney, dead.
McGonagall, Hagrid, escaped.
Dumbledore, Firenze unaccounted for.
Taplin sliced through the forest and the trees bled out around him as the walls around Snape, burning, seemed to scream for the lost, dead and dying.
Snape muttered furiously in his dungeon, sweat pouring down his forehead.
“Hurry, Taplin. Hurry, **** you, HURRY!"

Garm moved silkily through the forest. He knew where he was going.
The centaurs had told him...
“The Forest is bigger than anyone knows. It turns into other places. It-”
Garm was the first human to find these places, these deliriously wind-swept landscapes.
He saw mountains.
“It isn’t exactly the Forbidden Forest. We call all the land the Forest, you see, but it takes many different forms.”
Faced by an ocean, Garm knew this. Faced by dunes, ice, fire, he knew this. What else would he have to face? The next day, centaurs appeared, tired, beaten-up, fatigued.
“Nobody’s gone this far. Even centaurs... We very rarely come out this far...”
Garm frowned at this, wondered aloud,
“How big is this Forest?”
The centaurs looked at each other quizzically, before one said,
“We can’t describe it in terms you would understand.”
“Wait.” said another centaur. “We are on an island, yes?”
“Yes.” Garm nodded. “Of course. We’re in the kingdom of England.”
“But over the water on the other land is another large kingdom where many more centaurs live. It’s the kingdom of the Franks. Through magical forces over thousands of years the Forest is larger than even that kingdom, although it still fits within England. It may seem impossible, but it’s true.”
“How could that be be?” Garm stammered.
It was his first glimpse of the impossible magic. As Garm strode further and further into the Forest he stole many more glimpses of the beautiful, terrible and seemingly impossible.
It was as if he were inside a dream.

My apologies for delaying this so long. I've had a lot of schoolwork and haven't been able to concentrate on much else. However, since I've missed the posting dates for two chapters now, I'll be able to post an exorberent amount.

***

Days passed.
Harry, Luna, Neville, Hermione and Ron kept walking. Tired.
Constantly tired.
Neville had found herbs that could be eaten on the second or third day, and an unidentifiable, yet edible, substance that resembled mineral.
Everyday they woke at dawn and walked until nightfall. Then if they were lucky they found a clearing and fell into an uneasy sleep.
They didn’t see any other creatures.

***

Morning.
Shadows rustled restlessly on the trees and ground, forming strange shapes. Neville woke, saw his mother’s face magnified on a boulder nearby. He heard her talk, wondered if he was losing his mind, tried to forget about it.
He fell into sleep again.
Moments- it seemed like moments- later...
Hermione’s voice rang out into the clearing. Not rang, not rang... it was muffled.
Dozily, sleepily, crawling up out of his subconscious cocoon like moss, Harry roused and yawned.
“Oh, god... can’t we sleep just...”-another yawn-“a little later?” Harry asked.
“No.” Hermione said. “We’re already late. The sun’s up.”
“Another hour or so won’t make any difference!” Ron protested. Hermione didn’t answer. She knew better. Ron knew better than to disobey her.
Knowing he had to get up, and feeling vaguely perturbed about it, Harry rolled over. Luna was awake, watching him.
She saw that he saw.
She smiled.
The five stuttered up, stumbled on, hoping against hope for a sign of some progress. It had been so long. As they walked, Harry pulled up a mushroom. He knew which ones were edible now.
This would be breakfast; for the others as well. Snacking on the go in the forest was easy when you knew what to eat, and by this time it was all so agonizingly simple.
They fell into form.
Luna: Have you seen any animals yet today?
Harry: Not yet.
Luna: I thought I saw something.
Harry: Really? What?
Luna: A Bovian Snorkrak. Back there, just a little ways.
Harry: I don’t believe it.
Luna: (Laughing) Well, that’s one for me.
Harry: Yeah, sure. Rub it in. First thing in the morning and you’re already five points ahead.
Luna: Ten points. It’s ten points for bipeds.
Harry: Why did it have to be Bovian?
Luna: That’s just luck.
Her hair shimmered in the early morning light, filtering across her face, shooting specks of shadow over her cheeks and shoulders. Her arms swung casually, she seemed to walk above the ground. Her confident smile and beaming eyes seemed to chime out in the lonely boreal cave.
Harry: Look!
Luna: What?
Harry: A double-horned tripek!
Luna: A feathered reptilian? ****! That’s thirty points!
Harry: It would be if I’d seen it.
Luna: You little git!
Harry: There’s nothing you can- ow! Stop- I can’t breathe!
(Harry laughs. Luna joins in.
There’s a crunch in the leaves behind them. The two spin around- Neville has fallen. He’s unconscious)
Harry: Neville!
Luna: Ron! Hermione! Wait up! Neville’s fallen!
They were all crouching around Neville in an instant. Hermione’s hair fell across her face; she impatiently brushed it back.
“What’s wrong with him?” Ron asked.
“I don’t know.” Hermione replied.
Luna held Neville’s shoulders, and closed her eyes.
“What do you think we should do?” Harry huffed.
Luna’s eyes flashed open.
“He’s in pain. He’s in danger.” she said.
“He’s not in danger.” Hermione retorted impatiently.
“He’s in danger of losing his mind.” Luna replied. “I saw it. Did... did any of you know what happened to him this summer?”
Ron and Harry exchanged glances. Hermione furrowed her brow. She said, “I know that he visited his parents in St. Mungo’s. That was before the attack though. Neville said that everything was fine...”
“They died.” Luna stated.
“What?” Harry shouted. “They... How do you know?”
“Neville wouldn’t lie to us.” Ron narrowed his eyes threateningly.
Hermione stared at the ground.
“Yes, he would.” she said. “If he suffered a significant enough loss, he would.”
“Neither of us lied about...!” Ron stopped, his eyes grew in size. His face flushed.
“We couldn’t have hidden it, Ron. Neither of us had a place to go afterward.”
“I thought you were Neville’s friends.” Luna whispered furiously. “You didn’t even suspect...? I saw that something was wrong with him from the time we set out into the woods. I thought he was just a gloomy person!”
“What do you mean you saw that something was wrong?” Harry queried.
“It’s hard to explain.” Luna shook her head. “People send out energy. If you’re in tune with it, it’s as easily read as facial expressions, or auras.”
“Oh, I see. It’s another one of your crock and bull stories!” Ron exclaimed.
“Shut up!” Hermione yelled. “This is serious! For once, her explanation makes sense!”
“What should we do for him?” Harry asked.
Luna looked at Neville maternally and pressed her hands against the sides of his face.
“I can focus positive energy on him.”
“There’s no such thing!” Ron barked. “That nonsense is fit for Muggles!”
Hermione cuffed him.
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” she snarled.
“I can’t conjure positive energy when you’re trying to tear each other apart!” Luna growled.
Ron and Hermione fell silent while Harry watched Luna enchanted, waiting to see exactly what this apparent energy looked like.
Luna’s eyes were closed. She looked like she was sleeping until a smile darted across her face. She laughed.
“He threw you out a window?” she muttered, beaming.
Her hands remained pressed to both sides of Neville’s face.
Her face grew taut.
All of a sudden she threw her head back, teeth gritted. Her eyes flashed open and she yelped in pain, managing to wrest her hands away from Neville’s face. Luna stood up and stumbled backwards, tears running down her face. Harry found himself holding her tightly. He heard his voice telling her that it was going to be alright, it was going to be fine, everything’s fine.
“It’s not going to be fine.” Luna whispered. “He’s falling apart. I’ve never seen anyone in so much pain. It was awful. There were people dying all around... everywhere, people dying. There were so many dead bodies...”
The colour drained from Ron’s face. Hermione closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands.

Taplin and Draco stepped out from the curtain of the Forbidden Forest.
The lawns were blackened. The Quidditch poles were broken and lay twisted and gnarled on the playing field. Hagrid’s hut was gone. In the distance, the ruins of the once great Hogwarts castle stood, quivering in the wind.
The battle had been over for a long time.
Taplin’s face screwed up in disgust and horror.
“Oh, no.” he said. “Oh, god.”
Draco didn’t know what to say. Finally, he managed to speak.
“Do you figure... do you think they’re...”
“I don’t know. They might be.”
The two crossed the scorched soil until they reached a toppled wall of stone. This had once been part of the proud exterior of the Great Hall.
“I was a student here.” Taplin said, his voice hollow. Draco nodded.
“I was sorted there.” the Professor continued, gesturing emptily to where the front of the hall should have been. “It only... it only took... the hat... a moment... to say...” His face crinkled and tears sprang from his eyes.
Draco felt cold.
He had always hated Hogwarts. A million times before going to sleep he had hoped that something would happen to it, that his father’s friends would finally destroy the castle.
His father’s friends...
They murdered him in Azkaban.
Draco remembered the sparkling grey eyes and the smell of unicorn breath. The Death Eaters took it all away from him.
Draco didn’t know where to go, or how to feel. He didn’t feel anything, surrounded by the ruin.
He wondered what had happened to Gregory and Vincent. Were they in there somewhere?
Were they...
Taplin stepped gingerly onto the tumbled stone wall and stood there for a minute, struggling to breathe. Then he continued walking and soon found himself in the middle of the Great Hall. The crumpled stairs lay a short distance away. Broken balconies swayed dangerously above him. Some of the building was still intact. Taplin could see that the fourth floor looked to be in one piece.
Still...
“I don’t feel anything.” Draco said dully. “Nothing.” He kicked a brick across the ground in frustration. “What’s wrong with me?” he pleaded, looking to Taplin for some sort of guidance.
Taplin shook his head and simply murmured, “It’s gone.”
A door nearby, miraculously intact, smashed open. Snape, cut and bruised many times over, stood pale, shaking and livid, his robes tattered, torn and burned. His eyes were on fire, and he made an animalistic noise from the back of his throat, ripping his wand out of nowhere, pointing it at Taplin, trembling.
“YOU...!” Snape hissed. “I see..” he gurgled furiously. “You finally decided to arrive!”
“We were deep in the forest!” Taplin protested. “We couldn’t get back quickly, we tried!”
“Where are the others?” Snape hollered. “They’re probably murdered! Death Eaters are everywhere! They came here a week ago and destroyed almost everything! Or did you receive that part of the message?”
“I did, and...”
“You insane, blubbering FOOL!” Sparks flew from the end of Snape’s wand and he cried out in anger, stuffing his wand back into his robes.
“I can’t kill you, which is a goddamned bloody shame! You’re one of the only teachers left.” Snape strode across the ruined hall to stand suddenly stolid, still seething in front of Taplin.
“What do you mean? What were the... what were the casualities like?”
“Ninety students dead.” Snape hissed. “How does that feel, Taplin? How does it feel to be responsible for that? That’s almost ten percent of the student population. You murdered them.”
Draco remembered Professor Snape at family dinners. He was smiling then, wryly and sardonically, but happily. He told jokes and anecdotes. Draco’s father had always been best friends with the Professor and had always encouraged his son to look up to Snape. That had been easy for him. Snape was an unbending and unbreakable figure, unswayed by the administrative corruption under Dumbledore’s incoherent reign. Snape had hated Harry Potter from the first day of class. Potter was a slimy, arrogant, repulsive git. Potter had been the first one to see Voldemort come back, telling lies about it, and...
And they weren’t lies.
His father had been there that night, along with his murderers.
Snape had been there.
Draco suddenly hated the Professor, with all his heart, for the first time. He hated him.
When Draco came out of his reverie, Snape was standing smugly satisfied in front of Taplin, who was holding back further tears.
“Professors are dead, too. If you had just gotten here sooner...” Snape sneered.
“He wouldn’t have made any difference.” Draco spat.
Snape looked surprised, offended, then bemused. Draco wanted to hit that smarmy, calm face. He wanted to hit it until there was nothing left, not even bone or blood.
“You can’t expect us to believe,” Draco continued, “that you and the professors were the only ones protecting Hogwarts. If you had been the only ones, against an army of Death Eaters, there would be nothing left. I know what they’re like, Professor. You do, too. You can fool me. I’m not naive.”
“No.” Snape drawled. “I suppose you’re not, are you? Arrogant? Yes. Foolhardy? Oh, yes. But naive? No.”
The words stung. Draco had admired this man. Severus Snape was on a pedestal almost as high as Lucius Malfoy, and now Snape was berating him, just like he’d berated Potter all these years. Then it had been funny. Potter had never admired Snape though, Potter had never loved him or hero-worshiped him.
“So who else was here? I bet the Ministry came.”
“There’s no such thing anymore, Mr. Malfoy!” Snape laughed. “You’ve heard about the coup, haven’t you? We still don’t know who the new leader is. Yes, some people from the Ministry, some of the same people who murdered the Wizengamot, came to help us. I would’ve preferred death, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option. The Dark Lord thought I was still loyal to him, which was a pleasant surprise. Dumbledore and I were relatively sure that the Death Eaters were out to kill me this summer...” Snape’s face flickered regretfully. “I mean... I thought they knew my plan. Alastor Moody showed up, however, and killed me. Well, at least that’s what the Dark Lord and his followers have been led to believe. Alastor is here in the castle. He’s going to help protect us, as he is quite possibly the most experienced man for the job.”
“Where’s Dumbledore?” Draco asked.
Snape smiled somewhat mockingly and said,
“What? Did I just hear Lucius’ son ask where Dumbledore is? Right after I claim another man is the most experienced in the castle, I hear Lucius’ son pipe in, perhaps suggesting that Dumbledore would be the most experienced if he weren’t absent? Yes, Dumbledore is absent, Mr. Malfoy. I do not know where he is, so I am taking over as Headmaster. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid are also missing. Remus Lupin is unaccounted for as well...”
“You’re in contact with Lupin?” Draco asked, in shock. “You told my dad...”
“I’m full of surprises, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Who’s dead?” Taplin asked. Snape and Draco had forgotten that he was there.
“Who’s been killed?” Taplin repeated. “Which of the teachers?”
Snape narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth. He paused, and bit his lower lip.
“Giles, I apologize for insinuating that the massacre was your fault. You could not have done anything except provide one more wand. In the heat of the moment I believed that that would make the difference, but in retrospect I was mistaken.”
This was the man Draco knew.
Snape continued. “Professors Trelawney, Sinistra and Sprout were murdered. Professor Sinistra was cornered and hexed repeatedly until there were no bones left in her body. She was...” Snape paused, and looked at the floor. “They made her bones grow back in... in grotesque shapes. I killed her. She was in pain, and... and they wouldn’t let her die.” The colour drained out of Draco’s face. Snape proceeded. “Professor Sprout was thrown into the Whomping Willow. Alastor couldn’t get her out. It was... it was hours... hours... hours before her... her screaming stopped.” Snape wiped his eyes with the cuff of his robes. “Dust.” he explained acidly. “Professor Trelawney was tortured for information. They believed her to be a genuine seer. They did terrible things to her. We found her in the Forest later, disheveled, in a state of shock, covered in blood. We tried to restrain her, but she... she wandered away. Pettigrew found her. I don’t know what he did to her, but when we found her, she was...” Snape stopped. He turned around and walked to a stone wall, and started hitting it and kicking it. Streaks of blood were left behind. Soon he was screaming. Taplin tried to pull him away from the wall, but finally Snape collapsed.
Flitwick appeared in the doorway of the great hall, distraught and glassy eyed.
“I... I thought I heard yelling. Is everyone alright? Oh, no... Severus.” Flitwick rushed over to the fallen form of Snape and knelt beside him, patting his shoulder reassuring. He looked up at Taplin and whispered,
“He’s the one who found them.”
Draco wandered away from the professors and found himself walking down a long naked hallway, down a staircase. He pushed open a battered old steel door, and was astounded by what he saw.

Oh, but I’m alright, I’m alright,
I’m just weary to my bones.
Still, you don’t expect to be bright and bon vivant
so far away from home, so far away from home.
-Paul Simon

For days Neville slipped in and out of sleep. Every now and then he let out a cry, or started babbling, and Luna rushed over to him and tried to reassure him that it was alright, sometimes quietly speaking in what sounded like a foreign language, and laughing softly. The five had set up camp in a grassy clearing in the woods near a brook and there wasn’t at all much to do. Ron and Hermione often slipped away together into the foliage for long walks, sometimes not emerging until nightfall. Harry and Luna helped tend to Neville, and spent their days talking to each other.
There was an ordinariness to these days that was quietly extraordinary in light of their situation, far away from home, on a journey into the heart of an unknown fate.
Still, it was nice, and good.
(Ron and Hermione are walking through the woods, by the aforementioned brook)
Hermione: ... as long as it takes, Ron.
Ron: We could be out here forever then.
Hermione: No, we won’t. He’ll heal. Soon. Luna’s doing good work, he’s making excellent progress.
Ron: I’m still not sure about her.
Hermione: She knows him well. I think we can trust her.
Ron: You used to not like her...
Hermione: She’s taking care of Neville, and doing a good job of it. Whatever she’s doing might be crazy, but it works.
Ron: Mmm.
Hermione: You don’t believe me.
Ron: I didn’t say anything.
Hermione: You said, “mmm” and I know what that means.
Ron: What does it mean?
Hermione: It means I’m gonna throw you into that stream there, that’s what it means.

It was close to midnight, and the moon was almost dead centre in the sky. Harry reclined on the ground in his usual spot by the fallen tree in the clearing. He watched interestedly as Luna knelt over Neville softly speaking in what seemed to be tongues. She stood and the moonlight shone light across her face. Her hair gleamed in the moonlight. Luna usually slept by the campfire, to keep warm, she said, and to keep a watch on Neville. This night she crossed the clearing and knelt next to Harry. As soon as he’d seen her approach, he had pretended to be asleep. He didn’t know why, it was just reflex, and-
“I know you’re awake.” she said. He opened his eyes.
“How did you know?”
She smiled.
“Your energy.”
“Of course.”
Suddenly, they were awkward. This hadn’t happened before.
She’d never, and- it was, that... they’d never- not even... no, not even then, and...
And they’d never felt awkward, even when... yeah, even then, and,
and when he saw her watching him, eyes sparkling, and when he smiled crookedly in the morning light, but until now it’d never been... it’d never been anything, not like this, not anything like...
“Is it okay if I...” she asked.
“Oh. I...”
“It’s okay if you...”
“No, it’s...”
Luna blushed.
“I’m sorry, I...”
“No, it’s okay.”
“You don’t have to...”
“No, it’s no big deal...”
“No, I shouldn’t have asked, and...”
“I like you.”
“What?”
“I... I really like you.”
They looked at each other, startled, faces flushed.
Harry sat up, Luna sat down. He looked away from her and she found an excuse to look at the ground quickly.
“I like you, too.” she whispered, looking up at him. Smiling.
He smiled.
“You do?”
“Yeah. For a while, I...”
“Me, too.”
They grinned.
“So... what now?”
“I dunno.”
“Do you...”
“Well, whatever, I mean...”
“Yeah.”
“Is it okay if I...” she asked.
“Here?”
“Just... to sleep, is all, and I...”
“Yeah. Sure! I mean, I...” Harry’s face flushed. He didn’t want to appear overly enthused.
She lay down, a little awkwardly, as if the dirt were moving underneath her.
More than a little awkwardly, he lay down.
They both sat up almost immediately.
“Do you think Neville’s okay?”
“Oh, I might want to check on him.”
They beamed at each other again.
‘Tell her something,’ Harry begged himself. ‘Tell her... I dunno. Tell her that...’
“You’re really...” he started, stopped, looked at the ground. “You’re beautiful.”
She blushed, smiled wider than Harry thought was possible.
“Thanks.” she said, and hugged him, a little awkwardly, a little too long, a little too tightly.
It was perfect.

They woke up and everything had changed. No longer were they surrounded by dense, green woods. Now the five friends were huddled on a stubbly brown peninsula of autumnal grass. Around them was icy, clear water, shining brightly, shimmering boldly in the brisk morning air that glittered like oncoming winter. The cool hadn’t accosted them like this before.
Hermione walked dizzily to the edge of the peninsula, dazed. Neville blinked.
Luna twirled around, having barely taken in the scenery, and ran to Neville. With an cursory glance at him, she said,
“He’s ready to start traveling today.”
Harry breathed heavily and looked over at Ron, who shared his startled expression.
“Where are we?” Ron huffed.
A curtain of mountain rose up around the lake they found themselves on. Despite their towering presence, the lake wasn’t claustrophobic. It was beautiful and meditative, seeming to benevolently decide that the students were allowed to pass unharmed.
“We’re in a mountain range.” Hermione muttered, squinting against the sun.
“I know we’re in a mountain range!” Ron declared. “By how did we get here?”
Luna’s mouth dropped open and her eyes bulged out a little more than usual.
“Shh.” she said suddenly, holding out her hand.
Harry half-smiled.
They were going to be okay.
Luna was talking to them.
Harry frowned, wondering where that thought had come from. Who was “them”?
“Okay.” Luna whispered, nodding.
A slight breeze skittered across the lake. Luna traced her way across the grass to the edge of the water, kneeling and dipping her hand in absent-mindedly. The wind’s ripples met those that she had caused, and she continuing muttering, almost to herself.
“We can do that. Certainly. No. No, he’s fine. Yes. Yes, I know. That’s good. Thank you. By nightfall?”
Luna stood and turned around, looking at her group with kind consideration. She stood for a long time, as if studying them.
Hermione sighed.
“Who were you talking to?” Hermione queried, trying to overcome her skeptical impulses.
Luna looked around for a moment, and then shrugged.
“They’re here.” she finally said.
“Do you know where we are?” Hermione asked.
“North.” Luna nodded. “We’re more north than we were before. There’s a circle around the radius of the Forbidden Forest, and when you pass through that circle... things tend to change. I was asking... I was asking them,” Luna gestured to thin air beside her. “They said that yes, geographical change was one type of transformation. There are other circles that we’ll pass through, and when we do we’ll notice other types of changes as well.”
“What does that mean?” asked Ron, slightly panicked.
“We aren’t in danger right now.” Luna said assuringly, flitting over the grass toward the group. “We were before, but not now. We’re going to be in this mountain range for awhile, it looks like. At least until nightfall. They couldn’t promise anything beyond that, in terms of unexpected change.”
“Who’s they?” Harry asked.
“It’s an individual thing.” Luna blinked. “You have to find that out for yourself.”
Neville stood shakily.
“I knew we’d get here.” he said, grinning widely. He wasn’t entirely like himself. “They said we’d get here.” Neville nodded heartily. “They said we would.”
Hermione, Harry and Ron exchanged glances, unsure of what was happening.
They continued walking, and Harry caught up to Hermione and Ron. He smiled and whispered to Hermione,
“At least we’re not in danger.”
The next time he looked back, Luna arched an eyebrow at him amicably. She fell into conversation with Neville after that, and Harry, Ron and Hermione talked among themselves for the first time in a long time.

Ron: Something’s different, but I can’t put my finger on it exactly.
Harry: What? Is it because I’m talking to you guys instead of Luna?
Ron: That’s it.
Hermione: Ron, I’m going to have to strike the invisible gong again.
Ron: That signals I’m being a prat.
Hermione: Right.
Harry: We should’ve thought of that years ago.
Ron: What’s going on with you and Luna anyway?
Hermione: Gong, Ron. She likes him, but has been too shy to do anything about it. Harry likes her, but as usual he’s a bit dense about these things...
Ron: Oh, the usual business then.
Harry: It’s not like you’re any better.
Ron: So if you do fancy her, why aren’t you talking?
Harry: I thought she should have a chance to talk to Neville. He acted a little differently after regaining consciousness. I think Luna reading his mind or whatever left a psychic imprint on him...
Hermione: Harry, I’m sorry.
Harry: What? Why?
Hermione: Well, I’ve been talking to Ron a lot lately, and so I don’t have anything to signal my approval for displays of tact and sensitivity.
Ron: You’re getting good at this, Hermione. That one was almost funny.
Hermione: Almost as funny as your constant faux pas.
Harry: How about a cannon blast for sympathetic acts?
Hermione: They’re so rare around here that it might be good to do something really spectacular for the occasion.
Ron: I’m keeping my mouth shut so my foot doesn’t do one of those twitches and ends up rammed down my throat. I think I deserve some credit.
Harry: Hermione hasn’t insulted you for at least two minutes. That’s your credit right there, Ron.
Hermione: Good call.
Ron: Mmm.
Hermione: Don’t “mmm” me.
Ron: What do you figure Neville and Luna are talking about?
Hermione: Probably what happened to Neville over the summer... I can’t imagine anyone better to talk to him than Luna.
Ron: I still can’t believe he didn’t talk to us.
Harry: He’s always been introverted.
Ron: Yeah, but we’re his friends.
Hermione: I guess friendship isn’t a close enough tie.
Harry: What do you mean?
Hermione: You’re not jealous, are you?
Harry: Of Luna and Neville? No, of course not.
Hermione: Well, I think they shared some pretty deep experiences. I was wondering...
Ron: You’re jealous, aren’t you?
Harry: No!
Ron: Mmm.
Harry: Alright, Hermione. What does that “mmm” mean?
Hermione: It can mean different things.
Ron: Either it’s time for Ron to get hit or for Ron to run away.
Harry: Well, I can use my complimentary cannon blast to get you to do a little bit of both.
Ron: Hermione’s been a bad influence on you, I think.

I was wondering if I should leave a link to the feedback (http://www.cosforums.com/showthread.php?t=33026), and then I thought... why not? Any comments are appreciated, as always. ;)

***

In the depths of what remained of Hogwarts castle, Draco starred in amazement at the scene that sprawled out in front of him. Despite everything he’d seen, from hippogriffs to petrified students, Draco had never expected to see anything like this in his school.
He was in an echoing chamber of glass. A waterfall yawned out in front of him, stretching up as far as he could see. Strange plants sighed all around Draco, loping off in all directions. A seizure of colours treated his eyes and an unusual but achingly beautiful smell wafted out all around him. Sitting perched on a flat bed of marble in front of the waterfall was a grizzled old man. He had turned Draco into a ferret two years before.
“Hello, mate. I suppose you’ve gotten lost or something.” Mad-Eye Moody grinned. “This is just about the last place standing in this school and we’re just about the first people to see it in a thousand years. Welcome to the Penumbra.”
“What is it? Where are we? I’ve never seen this place... my father never mentioned it.”
“Your father doesn’t know everything, especially considering he’s a Slytherin.” Moody stood.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Draco fumed.
“Hold it, lad. I know what’s happened to you, and it’s a bloody shame. Your father was a fine wizard. I only meant that Salazar Slytherin always denied that this place existed, even up to his dying days. Those particularly close to the founder and his ideals are likely to think of the Penumbra as legend.” Moody paused thoughtfully and sucked in a long, content breath before fixing his eyes on Draco again. “Have you ever heard of Madron Garm?”
Draco sneered.
“I’ve heard fairy-tales.”
Moody raised his eyebrows and grinned wildly.
“Not fairy-tales.”
Draco looked angry, then suspicious.
“What do you mean, Moody?”
“I’m Mr. Moody to you, you contemptable little swine. I heard what my replacement did to you, and I reckon I can do worse. Watch yourself.”
Draco looked a little scared now.
“So what is this place? Garm’s secret lair?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“You heard me. This was Madron Garm’s lair, and would’ve been the house for his students if he had received any. However, Slytherin was suspicious of Garm’s motives, and he left Hogwarts before it was ever opened to students. It is ironic, Mr. Malfoy, that you are the first Hogwarts student to ever set foot in the Penumbra, and you are from the house that Madron Garm so despised.”
There was quiet for a while, punctured only by the trickling of the waterfall.
“Are the legends of the city true?” Draco asked. “Did Garm leave to found a city and privately lead witches and wizards to new heights of magical ability? Is there really a portal that allows the dead to come back to life?”
“Garm did indeed found the city. That is where your co-patriots are headed now.”
“I still don’t believe it...”
Moody narrowed his eyes.
“You’re in the Penumbra, boy. There’s nothing else that could possibly explain it except what I’ve just told you. You’re paranoid and suspicious.” The old man then nodded approvingly. “A wizard after my own heart.”
Behind them, a cough echoed out into the chamber.
“Am I interrupting anything?” Taplin asked. He lay a hand paternally on Draco’s shoulder. “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave soon, son. The remaining teachers have a meeting down here.”
“Why not in the Great Hall?” Draco asked.
“I suppose that Garm is finally having his moment out of the shadow and into the sun.” Moody mused. “For the first time, this truly is a penumbra.”

***

Next Chapter: October 8th
Draco has a flashback.

There's a bit of underage drinking in this chapter, and I want to say first and foremost that I strongly discourage this practise and not only are people who drink underage irresponsible but they are in all likelihood practising to be scum.
I hate drugs.
Okay now... on with the story.

***

Draco left the adults, not wanting to think about anything, not wanting to be left to wander the broken corridors alone. Almost immediately he remembered Pansy.
Where was she now?
He remembered last summer, going over to her house, finding her father’s Firewhiskey. A group of Slytherins had come over and played with wands and brooms all night, getting increasingly drunk. At midnight Pansy grabbed the collar of Draco’s shirt and hauled him into the kitchen pantry where she laughed for a minute and then looked down at the floor.
“I just wanted to say, Draco that... I really like you, and...” She started laughing again. His heart was beating rapidly. Draco watched her leave, sitting down in the pantry after awhile and passing out. He woke up the next morning and continued to drink and party with the others. Pansy didn’t say anything about the previous night.
Did she look at him curiously, if only for just a moment, just a second?
Draco didn’t know.
He looked at her all that day, and wondered blearily.
This broken building was tearing him apart. Draco stopped at a blasted-apart balcony on the fourth floor that leered down onto Professor McGonagall’s blackened classroom.
He still couldn’t feel pain.
He remembered watching Pansy, laughing and wrestling with a small pack of Slytherin girls, and wondering whether he should’ve tried to kiss her in the pantry.
She wouldn’t have remembered, he thought bitterly.
Draco now leaned against the wall in Hogwarts, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the past. It jumped around in his mind, slurred and incoherent.
There had been so many mistakes.
He didn’t know what to do about them. Pansy might be dead now, somewhere in the rubble. Draco heaved a sigh, feeling a stinging pain in his chest.
That was all though. No other emotions stirred inside of him. Where had they gone? Where had she gone?
Where was he?

***

Next chapter: October 11

There's a new person in the Forest, loyal to one man, and with dark ambitions.

He’d heard the rumours.
A city of magic, a lost wizard and his band of followers.
There was a portal.
His brother would be reincarnated, in all his glory and wisdom. His brother had killed all those Muggles and been imprisoned, never released, never forgiven by the pure-bloods for getting caught, for being sent to Azkaban. Those had been dark days.
His brother had betrayed the Potters.
He had never bowed to the pressures of friendship, but had made choices according to logic, according to his values, according to the knowledge of the good, dark lord.
Regulas hurled himself through the brambles and thickets of trees, racing toward Garm’s city. He was determined to bring Sirius Black back to life and then together, as brothers, the two men would rise alongside Voldemort and destroy their enemies.
Regulas cackled madly as he stopped for a moment, out of breath. He was exhilarated at the thought of seeing his older brother’s face again, shocked and surprised at seeing Regulas alive. He was supposed to have been killed by Voldemort, but no.
Instead, Regulas had fled, determined to win back the Dark Lord’s favour. He’d do anything to achieve this lofty goal and now that Sirius had died, struck in the back with a curse by Albus Dumbledore, Regulas finally had a plan.
He’d always wanted to impress his older brother, but Sirius had disapproved of Regulas and made fun of him. He was never good enough for his older brother. This was a somber thought for Regulas, but only a brief pause before his mind hollered out in glee at the thought of the impending reunification of the Black brothers.
They would be known in history as the greatest allies Voldemort had ever had, and the most fearsomely brilliant wizards in magical history, apart from the Dark Lord himself.
Regulas could barely keep running, he was laughing so hard.

***

Next chapter: October 14
A connection is forged in warmth and safety.

Yes, it's late. I forgot. Good news though- the next update is in two days now instead of three. Or maybe that's not good news. Maybe someone out there is reading this because they hate it and hate themselves even more...
I dunno. Figure yourselves out. :p

***

After the five friends started walking again, traversing across the foreign terrain, Luna and Neville soon fell into conversation. Neville looked at her quizzically for a moment and then asked her quietly,
“Were you the one who was talking to me?”
Luna smiled. “Yes.” she said.
“You were?” Neville asked, flabbergasted. “While I... while I was unconscious? I just... it was all dark, but I heard a voice, and... that was you?” Luna nodded. Neville shook his head, flummoxed. “How did you do that?” he asked.
“I focused energy onto you, consisting not only of emotion, but also thought. It forged a kind of mental connection between us, so-”
“Wait! You mean you were... you were reading my mind?”
“Not exactly.” Luna explained patiently. “It was an emotional and mental connection. That’s all. Besides,” she blinked, “you saw some of my thoughts, too.”
Neville thought for a moment and then remembered that, yes, there had been images there, too. Places he’d never been, songs he never heard, people he’d never met. Except he had now. Loony- no, not loony- Luna had given them to him.
“Did you get to pick which of your memories were sent into my head?” Neville asked cautiously. “Because I don’t think that’d be fair. I mean, you didn’t even consult me about this, and...” He couldn’t be angry at her. He looked at her and felt a peculiar sensation. It was trust, and even... Even affection. But not as a girlfriend, Neville felt uncomfortable thinking of her in that way, but when he looked at her, he felt safe, warm, protected. He remembered going to the apple orchard with his father after his mother had died, and feeling the same way; loved.
Except it hadn’t been his father and it hadn’t been his mother and he had never been to that apple orchard. He looked at Luna, who was smiling vaguely at him, and knew what she was thinking. She was thinking about the fact that they had both been through so much pain, losing loved ones, and they had both been bullied and tormented... that they had so much in common, that there had always been a similarity between them. Now there was a connection.
“You’re right.” said Neville. “We do have a lot in common.”
She felt good. He knew. She picked up traces of contentment flittering around him like fireflies.
“So what did you think about my summer camp when I was nine? Do you think I was wrong to trust them?” Neville asked.
“Anyone would’ve. I would’ve. It was a simple mistake.”
“But it could’ve been avoided.” Neville pointed out.
“Yes, you’re right. But should it have been avoided?” Luna asked. “You learned from that experience.”
“You’re one to talk.” Neville smiled.
“I was only a kid then!”
“You were twelve.”
“And now I’m not. See? I learned from that mistake. You did worse when you were twelve. With Trevor, remember? And the girls’ washroom?”
“Nobody knows about that!”
“It’s fine. I don’t think you should be embarrassed.”
Neville blushed, and grinned. Luna grinned in return, happy for the newfound friendship. She looked up the rocky path ahead of her and saw Ron, Hermione and Harry. Harry was walking a little peculiarly. He looked at Luna. The two made eye contact. He was... jealous? Luna arched an eyebrow as Harry turned around again. That was unusual. She’d never seen that before in him. There hadn’t ever been jealousy before. Why would he feel that way? Because of Neville? Was that it? Luna wondered. She’d never... Neville was too... Too close, for starters. The connection was stronger than that.
Neville furrowed his brow and looked at Luna.
“You’re worried about Harry?”
She nodded.
“Well... he’ll see.”
“He should.” Luna said.
“He will.” Neville corrected her. He paused for a moment, and said,
“The connection between us... will it... fade or...”
“It’ll fade. Soon we won’t be able to pick out distinct thoughts from each other, but just emotions and feelings.”
“Will that fade?”
“It shouldn’t.”
“Have you ever... have you ever done it before, with anyone else?”
She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“No. I’ve known how to for awhile- it’s just instinct- but no, I’ve never done it before now.”
Neville nodded.
“It meant a lot to me.” he smiled.
“Me, too.” Luna beamed.

***

Next chapter: Oct. 17
What's happening?

If any of the below is confusing, then it has succeeded. Speaking of which, I need to rewrite the first chapter of this story... It doesn't make any sense.

***

Purple light shimmered through the forest and lanterns glowing pale yellow swung from invisible hands. Harry woke up with a start from a dream and looked around the clearing he and the others were camping in. Except everyone else was gone. Harry stood, panicked, and skirted across the clearing. He jumped behind a boulder as voices grew closer. They were talking about Harry, Hermione, Neville and Luna.
“We saw them together. We got them all, except Harry. He was alone.”
Harry turned and ran through the woods, somehow silently over the leafy carpet. Arms grabbed him and pulled him behind an ancient redwood. He saw Hermione’s eyes flashing in the dark.
“Shh, Harry.” she said. “I wanted to show you something. I knew you wouldn’t believe me if you didn’t see it.”
She pointed a short way away. Ron stepped out from behind a tree wearing a suit and smiling stupidly. There was an old oak table next to him, with the remnants of dinner lying scattered on its surface. Candles flickered on the tabletop, then blew out in a sudden wind. Then, Luna appeared, pulling Neville behind her, and disappeared behind a tree. Ron glanced at the tree they’d disappeared behind and then looked emphatically at Harry.
“I think it’s clear, mate.” he said.
Harry looked at Hermione, who looked at him tersely and nodded. Now he was carrying a lit torch, walking up the path to a cottage. He heard laughter inside. It was Luna and Neville. He knew it. He could feel it. He woke up, suddenly finding himself a cave, off a valley in the mountain range.
Luna was sitting near the still flickering fire awake, staring at Harry.
She and Neville had...
Except it had been a dream.
Luna was still staring at him. Was it a dream? Neville was sleeping on the other side of the bonfire, smiling in his sleep.
What was going on with Luna and Neville? Harry couldn’t help but wonder.
He wasn’t jealous, was he?
Was he?
Harry pretended not to see Luna. He pretended to have just stirred involuntarily in his sleep, and lay down again, and drifted off.
He saw a moon flickering in the sky, and he stood under it in an empty field littered with garbage: discarded bottles and candy wrappers and shredded bits of newspaper. He was eating an apple slowly, with great delight, feeling unexpectedly good. Then he slid off into a dreamless sleep. Harry didn’t wake up again that night.

***

Next chapter: October 20th
Dunes

Though you feel that your life’s become a catastrophe,
oh, it has to be for you to grow, boy.
-Supertramp

The next day the landscape had changed again.
This time, they were surrounded by dunes.
“We should probably explore the surrounding area.” Hermione informed the group after they awoke. “We need to make sure we aren’t in immediate danger, that there aren’t any dangerous creatures out here.”
Ron nodded. “Sounds like a good, solid plan. I totally support it. So who wants to volunteer?” he asked, looking around expectedly.
“I will.” Luna stated, turning her gaze to Harry.
“Yeah, I guess I will, too.” he said.
Ron nodded.
“Sounds good. If there’s anything really bad out there just scream, okay?”
Hermione gave him a dirty look.
Luna stood up and walked into the dunes, and Harry ran to catch up to her. She looked at him interestedly.
“I’m glad it’s just us now.” she said, looking away, a little embarrassed. Harry’s heart fluttered up to his throat.
“I want to talk with you.” Luna continued.
The flutter in Harry’s throat became nervousness, cold and glinting.
“Why?” he asked.
“Well... do you trust me?” she asked.
“What does... Trust you? Yes, I...”
Harry remembered his dream, flashing in front of him, a terrible reality all of a sudden.
“I...” he continued, stopping again, unsure of what to say.
Luna watched him cautiously.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.” she said quietly, in almost a whisper.
Harry looked down at the sand, jealousy prickling up his spine.
Luna clapped a hand on Harry’s arm.
“There is nothing going on between me and Neville.” she asserted.
Harry felt his anger rising up in his throat, threatening to overtake him.
“Don’t you believe me?” Luna asked.
Harry wrested away from her grip, trying to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.
“No, I don’t believe you!” he found himself shouting. “I know there’s something going on! What the hell do you two talk about all day? Why are you talking to him more than me?”
He saw a flash of green light. He heard his mother’s voice pleading with Voldemort not to kill him. Then she was taken from him, wrestled away from Harry.
He saw Cho and Cedric dancing, skirting into the inky black distance. Cho had never loved him. It had been Cedric all along.
“Don’t take Harry!” He heard his mother screaming. Except she had left. She’d left him alone with the Dursleys. He couldn’t blame her for her own murder, but he did.
Harry saw, with flashing anger, Luna and Neville disappearing into the forest together. He heard their voices drift through the mountain trails. He heard his mother’s voice pleading for his life.
Harry saw Luna standing in front of him, looking at him in horror. It looked as though she were staring right through him.
“I know you’re in pain.” she said, her voice strong and firm. “But I will not talk to you if you insist on hurling abuse at me. I don’t deserve to be treated like that. Make your decision, Harry. We talk calmly and rationally, or I walk away and give you time to get your head together.”
“My head? What? You figure I’m off my rocker too, that I’m losing my mind? And how am I supposed to handle you traipsing around with Neville, you...”
She was already walking away, head held high.
“You can’t deny what’s happening!” he screamed, while Luna disappeared behind a dune.
Harry crumpled into a ball on the hot golden sand, trying not to cry, and then when he failed, trying not to choke on the sobs that wracked his body.

***

Next chapter: October 24th
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.

I like this chapter. I don't know why. It has that sort of aura you'd expect from, well, Luna's visions.

***

Just open your eyes and realize the way it’s always been.
-Edge/Thomas

Blackbirds fluttered by her bedroom window, while a beach stretched before her, reclining into the octagonal sunset while the sky softly receded. It plunked rain onto the hot May pavement, and as soon as the rain touched the ground it grew feet and legs and clambered off into the horizontal forest beyond, all greys and greens. Quick silver lightning flashes leapt from tree to tree, far up in the canopy, and she chased the electric pulses that so eagerly and so enticingly played hide and seek with her, and the children who hid in leafy shadows. Spinning around she fell backwards into velvet, and saw something else again.
There was sunshine, and a crowd of people following a man in a white coat that flowed down around his feet. Luna found herself in the coat and turned around, but everyone had left now. She was alone. Running, for no reason other than to move, to dance, to do something with the incredible energy bursting out of her, she found herself teetering at the top of the tallest tree in a magnificent forest. Then the forest changed, turning into a desert around her. Soon her’s was the only tree remaining, and then the desert slowly melted away, changing into an ocean. She heard voices above and beyond her, and straining against the beckoning moonlight Luna struggled to hear what they were saying.

***

“Is she alright?” Ron asked, concerned.
“It looks like she’s sleeping.” Hermione whispered.
“Not sleeping.” Neville smiled. “Meditating. And she’s fine.”
“Well, that’s good then.” Hermione nodded to Neville. “The only question is, what’s she done with Harry?”
“Knowing our Harry,” Ron said, “the question is, what’s he done with himself?”
Luna opened her eyes and looked up blearily at the faces surrounding her.
“What’s happened?” Hermione asked. “Where’s Harry?”
“I don’t know.” Luna shrugged, standing.
“You don’t know or you don’t care? You seem a little relaxed for someone who’s just lost a friend.” Ron spat.
Luna gazed at Ron analytically for a moment.
“I haven’t lost anyone.” she intoned. “Like you were saying, it’s more a question of whether Harry’s lost himself.”
“It’s nearly night.” Neville informed Luna. “Do you know where he might have gone?”
“No. I suppose I’d better help you look. We had a fight, and...”
Hermione looked at her, curious.
“Was the fight one-sided?” she asked.
Luna nodded. “I walked away.” she admitted.
“That’s Harry.” Ron nodded.
“I never thought to walk away.” Hermione confessed.
“It helps.”
“But now we’ve lost him.” Neville said.
“We’ll find him again.” Luna stated.

***

Next chapter: October 28th
A new and powerful magic.

This chapter is particularly dark, and a little gruesome. I don't think it's over the top though. However, it's quite intense and a little spooky. If that doesn't sound like your thing, then it might be a good idea to return on or after November 1st.

***

As night fell, Harry found himself lost and confused, wandering through a grove of tall trees extraterrestrial in appearance. He looked back at where he had been walking and paused.
“I could’ve sworn... I must’ve... must’ve turned myself... around.”
Harry walked a few steps in the opposite direction and then paused, cursing under his breath.
After a moment, he continued walking, looking up into the sky, looking to see the north star.
Harry found it, and a moment later saw the Big Dipper. Chuckling a little, he thought to himself how his astronomy class might’ve not been a complete waste of time.
Just then he saw the dog star.
Sirius.
Sirius...
He remembered the wasted, once handsome face... tumbling through the veil...
His last triumphant shout.
Now, in this inexplicable wonderland, he was so far away from that distant raging battle.
What was happening?
Who was winning this war?
Soon Harry came to a boulder, inexplicably bright against the darkness.
He felt good looking at it, and he felt safe. Transfixed, Harry reached out a hand to touch it and grazed against its milky white surface.
It burned.
Harry tried to pull his hand away from the boulder but found he couldn’t. It was somehow stuck, and now the trees were beginning to blur and the night was growing brighter and brighter. Everything was fading.
Harry blinked and found himself surrounded by slick black metal walls. An unidentified something ticked ominously overhead. There were no windows in this small, sparse room, and there was no door.
“Harry...” a voice hissed.
‘Oh no...’ Harry thought.
There was a soft, chiming laugh that drowned out the droning of the ticking for a moment.
“Harry... I know... they know... where you are.”
A dark figure appeared in front of Harry with wide, watery eyes.
It was Peter, only now he looked different, frightening. Was it just the shadow Peter was immersed in, or...?
No.
Harry shook as Peter stepped quietly into the light, with a plain honesty. The watery eyes expanded to show indecipherable emotion.
The skin on Peter’s face was gone. Only slick, red pulp- muscle, cartilage and blood- remained. Peter smiled. His mouth was gone.
Instead, there was a gaping black hole hovering over what was left his chin: a gleaming lump of exposed bone.
Peter brushed his cheek with fleshy fingers.
“Ah, yes. You’ve noticed my little sacrifice. It went to make the Dark Lord appear more... human. It’s all for a good cause, you see.” Peter grinned eagerly at Harry, expecting him to agree, to sympathize. When he saw Harry’s face, frozen in terror, Peter stopped smiling.
“Of course you wouldn’t see. You are your father’s son. Proud, noble... and without ambition. You’ll see soon though. Because... Harry... the Dark Lord has become more powerful. We’re winning the war!”
“I don’t believe you.” Harry said coldly.
“You will. The Dark Lord, in his infinite brilliance, has finally devised a fantastic new form of occlumency. It used to be that you had to be in close range with a person whose mind and whose thoughts you wanted to read. The Dark Lord has developed powerful magic. He salvaged the materials from our old school, Harry.”
“That couldn’t possibly be true.” Harry declared. “Professor Dumbledore would never...”
“Dumbledore is dead!” Peter shouted, his jawbone cracking. He impatiently knocked it into place with his fist, squealing in pain as he did so.
Harry’s stomach was December iron.
“That’s a lie. He couldn’t kill Professor Dumbledore. Nobody can.”
“He’s mortal, isn’t he? Foolish boy. And if you don’t believe me, do you believe that we’re monitorting the thoughts of your girlfriend right now? Yes, Luna is a particularly interesting young woman to study, and the Dark Lord is having a fun time leafing through her thoughts.”
“Leave her out of this!” Harry barked.
“Oh! I’ve struck a nerve!” Peter laughed, clapping his hands together.
“If you hurt her...”
“The Dark Lord can hurt her if he wants to. He can do anything he wants to with her mind. It’s all there, you see... All of her thoughts and dreams and desires. She likes you, Harry. And that’s something that we can use if we need to.”
“Not if I tell her what your plan is!”
“Can you stop her from caring? No!” Peter yelped. “She’ll look for you if you disappear! And you have disappeared, because you’re not on the island anymore, are you? She’s looking for you right this minute! We could kill her!” Peter’s eyes shone with wetness and he looked up at the ceiling. “Oh...!” Peter exclaimed. “That’s something, isn’t it? Yes... oh, yes, yes, yes!” Peter chuckled softly and then returned to stare at Harry.
“She’s on the ground now, Harry. She’s thinking about her poor dead mother. What a mess that was... And she witnessed it all. Her mother didn’t die right away. It took a long time, and Luna was with her the whole time. Luna’s reliving it all as we speak. We’re forcing her to, and the thoughts won’t stop. The thoughts won’t stop, the thoughts won’t stop! And nobody can help her! Nobody knows what she’s going through! Even if they did... and Mr. Longbottom might have an idea...” Peter paused dramatically. “They’re close, aren’t they? Yes, even if he did, he couldn’t help her. Luna’s mother is dying all over again, and she’s with her. Young, defenseless, helpless. Alone. Oh, loneliness, Harry! You know all about that! It’s a shame, isn’t it? You’re not there when she needs you.” Peter’s body shimmered, becoming soft around the edges, fading away. His bulbous, watery eyes were the last to disappear, leaving Harry alone in the cold, dark room. He knew that Luna was in pain.
He knew he couldn’t do anything about it.

***

Next chapter: October 31
Well, it's Halloween.

This is a Halloween offering, and it's actually interwoven into the plot. I was happy when I wrote it to see that I could quite conveniently post it on the 31st. It's quite dark, and occasionally gruesome, and if that's not your thing, then it might be a good idea to skip it. Or whatever. Those who suffer from looping thoughts might find a familiar fear here, one that I know well. Enjoy.

***

They’d been searching for Harry all night when Luna fell to the ground, screaming.
Everything happened in slow motion.
Hermione slid onto her knees, pulling Luna up, looking to Ron for assistance. Neville’s eyes opened wide in horror, and he knelt beside Luna, pressing his hands against her face.
“Do you know how to...?” Ron asked, alarmed.
“No!” Neville said, looking at his friends scared. “But I have to try!”
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, panicked.
Neville squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never been good at magic before. He’d always been weak. It skittered into his mind now, gleaming silver and pulsating.
“It’s Voldemort!” he blurted.
Ron made a strange sound in his throat.
“How could he be doing it? What’s happening to her?”
Neville shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe it’s occlumency.” Hermione suggested
Neville threw his head back in the sky. There was a thread of interchanging colours: red and gold, flashing brightly against the night. It snaked its way through the air, winding toward them.
“Does anyone see that?” Neville called, pointing.
“See what?” Ron asked, looking into the empty air.
“It’s a thread of... what is that?” Neville babbled, looking at Luna, looking through her somehow. “Oh, god.” he whispered. “Oh, god no.”

***

Harry knelt on the cold steel floor, head on the ground, breathing heavily. He had to help her somehow. He had to use occlumency. How could he, he barely knew how. Harry focused, trying to contact her, trying to see her thoughts.
He shredded through the air, cold and high, quick as flame breathing through a hurricane. Harry saw them now, Ron and Hermione and Neville, and Luna with them. Neville was trying to get into her head, and it was working. For just a moment it looked like Neville was staring right at him, but then...
Harry flew into Luna’s mind.

***

Everything was green for a moment, but then flashing lights somehow melted that colour and transformed everything into a violent indigo. Wind rushed past him. Where was he? Harry saw a staircase in the distance and was suddenly catapulting down it. He pushed him through a thick wooden door, and now he was in a dark, low-ceilinged room. It was a basement of some kind.

***

Neville looked up at Ron and Hermione, confused.
“Harry’s in her thoughts.” he said.
“Well, of course he is! She likes him!”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. He’s actually in there!”
“What?” Ron shot out. “How could he...?”
Hermione furrowed her brow.
“What do you mean he’s in her thoughts?”
“I don’t know what I mean, but he is! Take a look for...” Neville stopped, realizing that they couldn’t. “Well, you’re just going to have to... Jesus!”

***

Harry saw Luna and... it was her mother, Mrs. Lovegood. They stood together in front of a cauldron.
Everything went dark. Their skin turned the colour of ink, the dark of the basement turned paper-white.
“This is a difficult spell, and it’s often unsafe. It’s worth it though, as you’ll see, the results are worth you losing me. If you hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have died. My death is your fault.” Mrs. Lovegood explained.
Luna looked baffled.
“What, I...?”
Mrs. Lovegood slapped Luna, sending her sprawling onto the floor.
“QUIET!” she screamed, pulling Luna up by the collar. “YOU KILLED ME!”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
Then Mrs. Lovegood was on fire, her face red and throbbing with trapped heat. It was a banshee call, a shriek filled with horror.
Harry fell forward and found himself by a creek on a picnic blanket.
Mrs. Lovegood was there, as was her husband and Luna.
“Tell me the story about the crumple-horned snorkacks!” Luna smiled.
“Alright, but just once.”
The sky turned black. Mrs. Lovegood’s body flung apart, blanketing Luna. She screamed and tried to get out.
Her mother’s burning form ran up the basement stairs.
“GET MY WAND!” she screamed.
Luna couldn’t find it. It must have fallen onto the floor, but where?
“NO!” Luna screamed. “I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THIS! IT WASN’T MY FAULT! I DIDN’T DO IT! STOP THIS–!”

***

“Oh, God!” Neville howled, struggling to hold onto Luna.
“What is it?” Hermione asked.
“N-n-n-no!” Neville gasped.
“Let go!”
“NO!” Neville screamed, shaking horribly.

***

“I’M NOT A MURDERER!” Luna screamed against the blackness, throwing bottles and glasses into the dark. The deformed, twisted face of her mother floated in from the ash.
“This is a difficult spell, and it’s often unsafe. It’s worth it though, as you’ll see, the results are worth you losing me. My death is your fault.” Mrs. Lovegood explained.
If you hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have died.
My death is your fault.
My death is your fault.
Mrs. Lovegood slapped Luna, sending her sprawling onto the floor.
“QUIET!” she screamed, pulling Luna up by the collar. “YOU KILLED ME!”
“NO!” Luna screamed. “I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THIS! IT WASN’T MY FAULT! I DIDN’T DO IT! STOP THIS–!”
Then Mrs. Lovegood was on fire, her face red and throbbing with trapped heat. It was a banshee call, a shriek filled with horror.
Harry stumbled into the room. It was a hurricane in here. He struggled against the winds.
Luna was on the floor. Her mother flashed a furious glance at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“It wasn’t her fault. You ran out of the room with your wand in your pocket. I saw you.”
The mother narrowed her eyes.
“If you hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have died.” she hissed.
“No, that’s not going to work with me.” Harry whispered venomously. “This isn’t my memory. I’m just here to rescue my friend.”
He strode across the room and helped Luna stand. She looked at him, terrified.
“It’s my fault.” she whispered.
“No, no, no... no, it isn’t.”
“She died... I asked her a question about...”
“No... shhh.”
An idea filled Harry’s head, and he couldn’t escape it. He didn’t want her to be in pain, and at the same time he wanted to be the one to relieve her of that. But what if it only complicated things more? What if something happened? Never mind. They were beginning to fade out of the dream. Harry knew he could never do this in real life. Now was the time.
Luna opened her eyes and smiled at him.
“You saved me.”

***

He found himself sprawled on the ground next to her. Neville jumped back. Everything was blurred around the edges, and Harry had a terrible headache. Did he really just do what he thought he did?
“Harry, what are you doing here?” Ron stammered.
Luna rolled over on the ground and propped herself up on her elbow.
“Harry, you know, that wasn’t the first time you’ve done that in my dreams.” she smiled wryly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You saved my life, you know.” she said.
Hermione smiled wanly.
“Mmm.” she nodded. “As I thought. Ron? Neville? Let’s have a walk. Now that we’ve found them, I think that they have some catching up to do.”
Luna looked up at them as they walked away.
“Keen sense of intuition Hermione has.”
“It can be scary sometimes.” Harry smiled.

***

Next chapter: November 1
Unusual signs.

I'll be posting a lot in the next little while. This is a point in the story where I felt I needed to communicate a lot of ideas in a short amount of time. There's another point in the story like that a bit later on; I just finished writing it a couple of days ago.

***

Garm collapsed out of exhaustion after walking for days in the mountains. When he awoke he found himself on a tiny sandbar in the middle of an ocean. It was only wide enough for one man to walk down, and it stretched to the horizon and presumably beyond that.
Stumbling for a few moments, confused, Garm found himself lighting candles as a boy with his mother. Twilight was sweeping over their thatched cottage. He looked up to his mother’s face as candlelight flickered across her brow. She smiled warmly at her boy.
He was safe and protected there.
Garm awoke in a thatched cottage on the sandbar, which was now considerably wider.
Thousands of miles away a centaur hunting in the forest in a group of his companions looked up into the evening sky and nodded.
“Garm is doing well.” he said softly.
“Better than one could expect from a human.” another replied.
“Yes,” yet another piped in, “he’s survived this far, hasn’t he?”

***

Taplin and Snape wandered absently around the Penumbra as twilight thickened around the school.
“Don’t you think that I should at least try to find the students?” Taplin asked. “What if they’re dead, or hurt?”
Snape sighed. For a moment there was silence, but then the potions master began to speak quietly, in a hushed, ashy tone.
“I’ve been picking up unusual signs from the forest... a long ways away, that is... It seems that an unusual amount of mental energy is being given out. It would seem that somehow the ordinary powers in a human’s intellect to connect psychologically with another is heightened in the forest. I must admit, I am surprised.” Snape confessed.
“But what does that mean?” Taplin asked.
“Strange things are happening to the students... They’re not dead- certainly not- and not at risk right now. It wouldn’t do any good to try and save those students, Giles.” Snape paused. “Your place is here, at Hogwarts. In case any of the missing return, in case there’s another attack, and we still haven’t found out where half the students have apparated to, as Hagrid was supposed to oversee that and he is most likely dead.”
“I just want to help... I abandoned them out there, Severus.”
Snape smiled.
“They’re growing quite fond of each other.” he noted. “Miss Lovegood is meditating right now, and flashes of her thoughts I’m picking up are...” His face froze and his eyebrows receded. “Well... That is to say... Giles? If you want to help a student, talk to Draco.”
“Malfoy?” Giles asked.
“I haven’t seen him lately, and when I do he doesn’t look well. If you want to be a humanitarian, he’s your human.”
Giles nodded.
“I understand.”

***

Next chapter: November 2
A beginning.

I just wanted to add that I've sketched out the plot for the next fan-fic in this series. It'll take place from the middle of year six until the summer. I'm probably going to call it "And Romulus Remained", and no, the title doesn't give too much away. :p It'll mostly take place in Hogwarts this time around, unlike every other fan-fic I've ever written. If it doesn't go well, don't worry...
I'll just add a little Crookshanks/Trevor romance into the mix to stir things up a little. Oh, yeah. :cool:

It had been the longest five weeks of Draco’s life, meandering through the Hogwarts grounds, wandering out to the cusp of the Forbidden Forest, wandering back, eating rations provided by the few surviving house elves, wishing he was somewhere else, or dead...
He rarely saw the professors and when he did it was only for a moment before they bustled off again murmuring under their breath. Snape was especially impatient with him, and Draco still hadn’t entirely overcome his disappointment in the professor. Snape had never been like this before. He had always been considerate, low-key and mellow. Now Snape seemed to always be on the verge of panic, worrying, anxious, storming through the castle with lightning on his heels, never talking to Draco, and only occasionally shouting.
It hurt.
These thoughts whirled through his head as Draco blearily stumbled through the biting October frost, arriving finally what had used to be the Quidditch Pitch.
There was a man standing in the middle, looking up into the sky, his back turned.
It was Taplin.
“Hello?” Draco called.
Taplin spun around and looked surprised.
“Oh! Hello, Mr. Malfoy.” Taplin smiled, striding over the Pitch toward him. “Nice weather, isn’t it?”
Draco shrugged.
“It’s cold.”
“Yes, but it’ll warm up soon.”
“I don’t see how.”
“The clouds up there, see? It’s a cold front, moving away from us...” Taplin paused and looked at Draco analytically. “It is the weather we’re talking about, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir.” Draco looked away from him, feigning boredom.
“Remember our talk at the beginning of school?” Taplin asked. “When I told you that if you wanted to talk to me, about anything, you could? The offer’s still open, you know.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
“That’s not the message I’m getting.”
Draco looked at Taplin furiously.
Then he found himself too cold to be angry, and looked at the ground.
Taplin started to walk away.
“Do you know why Professor Snape has been acting strangely?” Draco asked.
“No.” Taplin said, stopping in his tracks, “Why?”
“It was a question.” Draco explained.
“Ah. Well... I imagine the stress of the job is beginning to take its toll. He has a lot of responsibilities.”
“But he had a lot of responsibilities before, too. And he was never like that. And my dad has always had responsibilities- he had a lot of power, my dad did- and he’s never too busy to...” Draco stopped and looked stricken.
Taplin cocked his head.
“Well... Your dad was a very intelligent man. I’ve always had a lot of admiration for him.”
“You have?” Draco asked.
“Yes.” Taplin nodded. “He’s brilliant. When I was a boy your father was just getting started in the world and politically he was regarded as an up-and-comer. Back in the seventies and early eighties a lot of people thought he would make a good Minister of Magic. But Dumbledore was the man who was offered the position.” Taplin shrugged. “I disagree with Professor Dumbledore on many matters, you see. He believes... well... You’re an intelligent young man. You know what he believes.”
“A lot of stuff about Muggle welfare.”
“Exactly.” Taplin nodded. “I’ve never understood Muggles. They’re violent people, heads full of intolerance.”
“Have you ever met one?” Draco asked curiously.
“Me? No.” Taplin shook his head. “But I’ve heard about the witch-burning trials. They’re monsters.”
“If they ever got a wind of the magical world, what do you figure they’d do?” Draco asked.
“It’d probably be the Burning Times all over again.”
Draco smiled.
“That’s exactly what I think! I think... I want to talk to talk now.”
Taplin nodded.
“Where should we start, Mr. Malfoy?”

***

Next chapter: November 3
No other explanation.

“We have to find out how to get off of this island.” Hermione said, walking carefully across the dunes with Neville and Ron.
“Maybe there’s a boat or something.” Ron suggested.
“Why would there be a boat?” Hermione asked.
Ron shrugged.
“Maybe there’s enough wood to build a boat. All it would take is a little magic...” Neville pointed out.
Hermione nodded.
“That might be a good idea.”
“Wait.” Ron said, looking at Hermione.
“What?” she asked.
“How are you doing that?” he asked.
Neville looked at Hermione and then he looked at Ron. He shook his head in disbelief.
“You’re talking- both of you are talking- without... without actually... you know... talking.” Neville exclaimed.
“Your mouths aren’t moving!” Ron stammered.
“Yours isn’t either.” said Hermione.
“Well... what... Is it... Some sort of psychic communication?” Neville asked.
“That doesn’t exist!” Hermione insisted.
“There has to be some sort of explanation!” Ron said.
Hermione frowned. “They said... Do you remember? Luna said that... that there would be changes. Back in that mountain range.”
Ron nodded.
“So you believe her now?” Neville asked smiling.
“Now that there are no other possibilities, yes.” Hermione said.
The three looked around and realized that they were no longer on the island.
They were on a typical suburban street, filled with typical bungalow homes. It was curved and convoluted. A woman appeared on a nearby porch and watched them cautiously.
“What just happened?” Ron asked, reassuredly out loud.
“We were just transported somehow.”
“But where?” Neville looked around, confused.
The street disappeared underneath them and the three fell into the darkness, landing near the ocean on the island.
“Unless we don’t want to lose each other again,” Hermione seethed, “we should go and find the others.”
“Why are you upset?” Ron asked.
“I don’t like the impossible to begin with.” she explained, “And I like it even less when it starts to happen.”

***

Next chapter: November 5
Honesty.

Luna and Harry sat together in the dunes in silence. Neither knew what to say to the other.
Eventually, Harry spoke.
“Luna, I... if you want to talk... I mean... you said you wanted to, earlier. And I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
She focused on the ground.
“After what you did in my, um... dream... I don’t mind. But... I never wanted anyone to see any of that. My mother’s death, I mean.”
“I’m sorry, Luna. But I was sent somehow to a chamber and imprisoned by Voldemort, and Peter Pettigrew came. He told me they knew how to practise long-range occlumency now. And that they had already tapped into your thoughts.”
“Peter Pettigrew told you that? The rat?”
“Yes.”
“So... it wasn’t... was that my mother?”
“I don’t think so. It was a memory of your mum, but... Voldemort changed it around.”
There was silence for a moment.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened!” Harry insisted.
“I killed her!” Luna shouted. “If it hadn’t been for me, she would be alive!”
“There was nothing you could do...”
“I asked her to show me that spell, and she did. And she died, Harry. I watched her die. She ran up the stairs, on fire, and I followed her, and...”
“I know. I saw.”
“But you didn’t live through it!”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Harry said. He didn’t know what to say; what was he saying? He didn’t know how to comfort her, she’d seen too much, but he had too, and he had an impulse to make up for what he had said, he was ashamed of himself for what he had said to her earlier, but what could he say now that wouldn’t put him in a worse spot?
Luna didn’t take her eyes off the ground.
“Thanks.” she said quietly.
“You’re not a bad person.” Harry whispered. He hesitated for a moment, and awkwardly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It was harder to do in real life.
She looked at him, and seemed to be surprised. She smiled buoyantly.
“I mean to say...” Harry tried to explain, he wanted to say anything to justify having a smile that beautiful thrust upon him.
“You have the best soul of anyone I’ve ever met.” His face flushed.
She laughed a little, highly, and kissed him on the cheek.
For a long time afterward they were just together, and although it wasn’t a cure for any of the misery that had preceded, it was a moment in undiluted sunshine. It was a moment separated from reality, in its own beautiful daydream, and that was more than enough for both of them.
“If I live to be a hundred,” Luna thought, “I’m going to remember this as one of the happiest times in my life.” She looked at him, and wondered what it would be like to sit next to Harry decades from that day, on a park bench in a London park somewhere, anywhere, and know that she had spent her whole life with someone who she loved and who loved her dearly.
She leaned her head on his shoulder gently, and not knowing what to do he rested his head on top of hers.
The sunset rolled in benignly.

***

Next chapter: November 7
A meeting of the minds.

I wish it would've been possible to post this chapter before the election...

***

Draco: Professor, do you think... I know you don’t like Muggles, but... what do you think of people who... who go out to hurt them?
Giles: It depends on what the Muggles were doing at the time.
Draco: And what if they were just minding their own business?
Giles: Most Muggles are very bad people, Draco. If the wizard who was torturing them knew that the Muggles had done something bad, or suspected that they might in the future, then I suppose it is acceptable to hurt them. Murdering them is another matter altogether.
Draco: My dad has killed people.
Giles: Your father fought in the first war. Of course he killed people! That couldn’t have been helped.
Draco: But he’s killed Muggles, too.
Giles: Your father was kind and noble. He wouldn’t have done anything without a good reason.
Draco: That’s what I always thought. Now... I don’t know anymore.
Giles: You’re sixteen years old, Draco. That’s about the time when people start to have doubts about where they’ve been, and where they’re going.
Draco: I’ve never been more confused in my life, Professor! Nothing makes sense any more, and what’s even worse is that... I think there’s something wrong with me.
Giles: There’s nothing...
Draco: There is! I know there is! I can’t feel anything anymore! Ever since my dad was killed, I... I haven’t even... I haven’t even cried since I found out he died! And I come back to Hogwarts, it’s blown to pieces. My friends are probably all dead! And I can’t feel anything. It’s like... I don’t know... it’s like something’s gone off in me, and I can’t find it again. What the hell’s wrong with me?
(There’s a pause)
Giles: At the end of the first war, after Voldemort died, I felt that way. A lot of my family members died in the first war. They fought for the Dark Lord. I never did, even when I was old enough, because I’ve never been strong enough, but... My family did. And they died. A lot of them did. And then... when the war ended... it felt like they had all died in vain. Our cause was lost, Draco. We were fighting for equality, for our birthright, we were fighting against Muggle hatred, and so many people I knew died for that cause. They died nobly, and then... Then there was nothing. We lost. After I found out that Voldemort had been murdered, I... I went numb. For years I didn’t feel anything.
Draco: What changed?
Giles: Everything. Everything changes, Draco. Eventually... everything comes to pass. Nothing’s permanent, everybody moves on, everything will be different, soon. The only thing that doesn’t change is family. And that’s why you stay together, and that’s why you value family and birthright, Draco.
Draco: I know. I value the family.
Giles: We have to keep it as pure as possible. But that’s beside the point... I’m just preaching to the choir when I talk to you about those things. You’re a smart lad. The point is, is that eventually all this pain and grief will pass, and hopefully we’ll be victorious this time around. And even if we’re not, that too will pass. I know it will be a terrific loss, but...
Draco: It feels like this is our last chance for victory.
Giles: In my lifetime, I think it will be. But you’re still young. Just remember, Draco. Pain will pass. So will happiness. And what you need to do is to keep looking for happiness. Just keep looking until you find it, and you will eventually...
Draco: I don’t even know where to start.
Giles: Everyone starts off thinking that.

***

Next chapter: November 11
An attack on Hogwarts.

Well, it's still technically the 11th. :p

***

Snape drew his mind back to the night of the attack. Shadows moved animatedly in a horizontal dance across the fields as the frightened faces of students bounced between floors and hallways. Their muffled talk, whispers, rumours, were drowned out by the chatter of prefects and the shouted instructions of professors. McGonagall pulled Snape aside into the shadows of the Great Hall as the last Hufflepuffs were being evacuated.
“Minerva... you’re back.” Snape whispered. McGonagall nodded curtly.
“Yes, Severus. I just arrived. And Albus just left.”
“Albus? Gone?” Snape’s face flushed. “Isn’t he staying?”
“He didn’t tell me much, but he did tell me that he is going to the Ministry and then he’s going to do work for the Order.”
“What kind of work?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
Snape narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment.
“Is Aberforth accounted for?” he asked.
“No. He’s gone.”
“Then perhaps...”
“That’s what we’re thinking. The Dumbledore brothers have left again together.”
Snape’s eyes widened.
“That’s what Dumbledore did...”
“I know.” McGonagall’s face was ashy. “They left twenty-five years ago, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attempted to attack the school. We pulled together then to stop him, Severus. You can do it now.”
“What do you mean me?” Snape asked, alarmed.
“I’m leaving. Dumbledore issued orders for me.”
“Aren’t I privy to any of this information?” Snape barked. “For god’s sake, if you’re leaving me in charge, aren’t I supposed to know what’s happening?”
“No!” McGonagall yelled. “No, you’re not! You’re the only person who doesn’t know anything. You’re the only person who’s safe. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will read your thoughts...”
“I can defend myself.” Snape huffed.
“If you can’t... he will see that you know nothing and he will assume that you are on his side.”
There was silence.
“So I’m supposed to lead this school with no knowledge of what’s going to happen?”
“I’m sorry, Severus.”
“The hell you are.”
McGonagall frowned. For a moment there was silence between them.
“For god’s sake, be careful.” Snape insisted, and pulled her close to him, hugging her tightly.
“You too, Severus.” McGonagall smiled warmly at her old friend.
“I’ll be seeing you.” Snape nodded. “Alive.”
“I’m not leaving yet.” McGonagall said. “Dumbledore has given me enough materials to defend the school adequately, but I’ll be in hiding utilizing them.”
“Is Fawkes involved again?”
“Ah, mum’s the word, Severus.”
And she was gone into the darkness. That was the last time he saw her.

***

Next chapter: November 16
It's my favourite so far.

Harry looked up and saw, on the top of a nearby dune, Hermione marching determinedly toward him, looking livid. He nudged Luna who nodded curtly.
“I suppose we’re on our way then.” she smiled.
The two stood and cross the small patch of sand they were on, meeting Hermione at the foot of the dune.
“Good. You’re both still here.” Hermione said.
“Did something else happen? Did you... where’s Neville and Ron?” Harry asked, disconcerted.
They appeared on the top of the dune. Hermione looked back at them.
“We’re all here, all in one piece. But we were transported about ten minutes ago to a little suburban neighbourhood none of us had ever seen before.”
Luna frowned.
“Why would you have been sent there?” she queried.
“I was trying to figure out how we were sent there, but that’s a reasonable question, too.” Hermione nodded.
“Do you have any idea?” Harry said, knowing perfectly well what the answer would be.
“No.” Hermione replied. “And I think we should stick together from now...” She looked behind her again. Ron and Neville were gone.
“I told them!” she yelled.
“Wait.” Luna said, holding her hand in the air. “Listen.”
“What?” Hermione asked.
“They’re gone. Not by choice, and...” Luna looked up in the sky. “Oh, no. Here we go.” she said, and then they went.
Blue flashes of smoke hurled by their eyes, bearing down on the surface of their minds, seemingly suffocating them. Harry choked on a throatful of ash just as what looked like a fleshless hand appeared in midair. It disappeared as quickly as it arrived, leaving him confused and disoriented. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see any of the smoke and white noise anymore, and then Harry felt cool plastic against his skin. He woke up to find himself in a deck chair outside on the patio of a small basement apartment. He could smell something cooking. Where was he?
Harry stood and walked to the small brown gate at the edge of the patio, peering down a narrow laneway to a street beyond. Harry opened the gate and started walking down the driveway before pausing. Whose apartment was this? There was something familiar about...
1985.
It was 1985. Suddenly Harry knew it, as if it were a fact. He had been six years old here at one time. Trick or treating in the neighbourhood, he remembered. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had gone out of town and left Harry with a babysitter. He remembered walking down eerie, empty streets by his babysitter’s side as fog settled on the sidewalk. Only a few houses in front of him had been visible at any given time that night, and...
Yes, he had been here before.
It had been eleven years ago, but he still remembered what he had had to eat that night. It was the same thing he smelt right at that moment.
Harry walked up the laneway to the street, peering cautiously down the sidewalk. Was it Halloween now? Was his younger self inside that apartment at this very moment, hungry and ready to eat? Harry looked back at the front porch and its wide, welcoming windows. What would his babysitter say if he went to ring the doorbell right now? Would she recognize him? Probably not; he’d changed. Where were the others? Harry started to walk up the road and eventually he reached a small playground outside of an ancient-looking school. The trees shedding bright orange and red leaves stood starkly around a swingset. Luna swung blissfully from one of the battered rubber seats, eyes closed. It looked as if she were in her own little world, and Harry absently wondered whether he should even stir her from her reverie. She looked so happy.
Luna opened her eyes and looked straight at Harry, smiling.
“Come on over.” she called. “Sit next to me.”
Harry crossed the road, looking both ways instinctively, and entered the little playground. His feet crunched on old dying leaves as he found his way to the swingset and sat next to Luna.
“It’s a beautiful park, isn’t it?” Luna asked. Harry nodded.
“Ever been here before?” she asked him slyly. He nodded again. “Me, too.” Luna said.
“What?” Harry asked, startled. “When did you...”
“My friend lived up that road.” Luna smiled, pointing. “We used to go to that variety store all the time.” Harry looked. There was indeed a dusty old variety store on the corner. Neville stumbled out of it, looking dazed. A furious shop owner poked his head out after him.
“Don’t let me catch you in here again!” the owner barked.
Neville appeared, for a moment, stunned, and then he saw Luna and Harry.
“Hey, guys!” he called, looking behind him nervously. The shop owner had gone back inside. Neville ran across the street and skidded to a stop in front of the swingset. Luna motioned to an empty seat on her other side and Neville contentedly plopped down on a swing.
“I can’t believe that...” he remarked. “One minute I’m standing on top of a dune with Ron and the next I’m in a freezer in that corner store. I found myself standing up in a freezer full of flowers that they sell, and the store owner saw me. He came running up to the freezer door and pulled it open and pulled me out and just started yelling at me and he wouldn’t stop, even after I tried to explain. I don’t even know how it happened!” Neville took a breath and shook his head. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We don’t know.” Luna shrugged.
“Have you seen Ron or Hermione?” Neville asked.
“No.” Harry said.
“Oh, boy...” Neville sighed. “That’s not good.”
“We’ll find them.” Luna remarked casually.
A windswept man appeared in front of the playground, walking toward the corner store. He stopped in the middle of the road and spun around quickly, like he was cutting the road with a razor. His keen dark eyes leaned toward Luna, Neville and Harry and the man coughed on his sleeve. He shuffled to the playground and scuttled to the swingset where he stopped and coldly reviewed the three.
“I don’t know you.” he finally said.
“I don’t think I’ve met you before either, but...” Luna started.
“Let me tell you something. This place is unstable.” he looked around nervously, as if expecting the sky to collapse. “The island wasn’t. The mountains were safe. The forest was predictable. This city... no. No, no, no.” the man shook his head violently. “You’ll die.” he hissed. “This whole place is going to fall apart soon. In an hour or so, everything... Everything will be gone.”
“How do you know that?” Harry frowned.
“Do you want to stay around long enough to find out?” the man asked. “Just find your other friends and get out. But watch their eyes. They might not be the same people you think you know. And watch yourselves as well. People change here. If you see one man and wait awhile then soon you’ll see two and soon after, three. Four. Five. Not at the same time, of course, but at different times, and different places, you’ll see them. Mark my words...” the man paused. “They’ll be there.”
He turned and began to walk away.
“You’re the guardian for this place, aren’t you?” Luna asked.
The man ignored her.
“I have a question.” Luna called. “I thought that everyone saw the guardians for different territories as different people or animals. How come we all see you as the same man?”
“What man?” Harry asked. “It’s a centaur. And one of the moodier ones I’ve ever met.”
Neville looked bewildered. “It’s my gran. What are you two talking about?”
Luna looked at the man, her eyes narrowed. The man looked back at her and shone a razor smile.
“I told you. Different people. But pretty soon all the different people are going to die. Just get out.” And he was gone, perhaps waltzing away on the wind, or shifting off down a storm sewer.
The three were left alone again, together at least.
“What do you think that was all about?” Harry asked.
“We’ve got to heed his...” Luna paused and looked at Neville. “or her... warning. We have to find Ron and Hermione before this city falls apart.”
“What was all that talk about different people?” Neville frowned, confused.
“I think he meant all the different versions of himself. All the different ways you could see the guardian, that is.”
Harry nodded. “That makes sense.”
Hermione walked out of the front door of a house across the street.
“Hermione!” Harry called.
She ignored him, remaining silent. She traipsed sadly down the porch steps and skirted silkily down the sidewalk and around the corner.
“What the hell...? HERMIONE!” Harry called, getting up.
“Wait.” Luna said, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder. She thought for a moment. “Okay. Let’s go after her.” Luna nodded.
“Why the hesitation?” Harry asked.
“I was thinking about what the guardian said.” Luna explained. “And how one man becomes several. What if... what if that’s not...?”
They were walking across the street when she said this.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked. “That it might not be her?”
Neville nodded.
“Well, she didn’t talk to us. That’s strange, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but a lot of strange things have been happening.”
“If it’s raining frogs and a giant apple comes up and asks you for the time, are you going to think of the apple as normal?” Luna asked.
“You come up with the strangest analogies...” Harry shook his head and laughed.
Neville laughed as well, and he laughed so hard that he fell onto his knees.
Luna spun around and hauled Neville up by the cuff of his shirt and pinned him to a brick wall.
“Listen...” she hissed. “You’re annoying me.” Luna struck him in the stomach. “And nobody...”
“Luna!” Harry shouted. “What are you doing?”
She turned around and looked at Harry confused.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Neville was sobbing now.
“You just hit Neville, and...”
“They’re all dead.” Neville wept. “All of them. My granddad and... my mum... and...”
Luna looked at Neville, confused.
“What did I do?” she whispered, her eyes growing wide. “Did I do this to him?”
“I don’t know.” Harry shook his head. “He was laughing, and then...”
Luna’s mother ran down the sidewalk toward them.
Her eyes wide in horror. Her mouth wide. An unreal scream burst like liquid from her mouth.
Harry found himself being dragged down a side street by Luna. She pushed open a green door on the side of a house and pulled Harry inside after her. They were in a small yellow kitchen now. Luna collapsed on a chair and Harry sat beside her, unsure of what to do.
For a moment they simply sat there, seemingly in amber.
The room started spinning, and Harry looked at the ceiling trying to determine whether it was in his mind or not. Suddenly Ron was there, looking down at him from the counter, then he was on the floor and Luna was at the window, and Hermione was walking down the street. Neville was on a swingset alone. Harry opened his eyes and found himself on a balcony, standing next to Ron.
“What are you thinking about, mate?” Ron asked.
Harry looked at Ron confused.
“What... What am I... where did you...”
Ron laughed.
“What are you going on about?”
Harry shook his head.
“Where are we?”
“Well!” Ron exclaimed sarcastically. “Right now...” he swept to the door leading inside. “we are in our lovely apartment or, more specifically, the lovely balcony!” Ron smiled broadly. “Is that good enough an explanation, mate?”
“We don’t have an apartment.” Harry whispered.
Ron shook his head and laughed.
“We didn’t have an apartment. Use past tense or it don’t make sense!” Ron swept inside the apartment. Harry looked down off the balcony and saw Hermione looking up at him with binoculars.
“Hermione!” he called.
She shoved the binoculars behind her back and ran away.
“What’s all the yelling about?” Ron asked, appearing on the balcony.
“It was Hermione, but...”
“What, you mean the bird downstairs?”
“The what?”
“Bushy hair? Is that her name?” Ron shook his head. “You can be odd sometimes.”
“I can be odd?” Harry asked.
He found himself hanging upside down from a tree. He fell off. Neville and Hermione were sitting on a park bench a short ways away, but it felt like a secret. Harry knelt on the ground- he didn’t dare disturb them.
“You know how much you mean to me...” Neville muttered. “It’s more than... than anything else...”
“I want you to build a garden for me.” Hermione smiled, and it flew up into the air like a lovely springtime smell and it made Harry think of his eleven year old Halloween dinner.
There was a burst of static.
“GOT YOU!” Luna shouted, poking Harry in the back with a sharp stick.
“What?” Harry asked.
Luna turned into Hermione.
“I want to warn you.”
Luna threw Harry onto the ground.
“I so have you... I have you so...”
“I’m so happy.” he heard Neville’s disembodied voice speak. Harry knew that if he looked back to the park bench Neville wouldn’t be there. It was just his voice now.
“It’s your turn! Try and find me!”
Luna disappeared.
Harry remembered he and Hermione speeding down a dusty road at morning and the sunlight hurt his eyes. He loved her sorely.
That had never happened, but he remembered dancing with her. No, he’d never danced with her. He remembered the Thestrals swooping down and into the corner store and finding Neville frozen with the flowers. He wouldn’t need any flowers for his funeral because they could bury him in there under a heap of tires and it would be set.
The glint of Snape’s eye shone out from the bonfire in the playground.
Harry woke up on the patio outside of his babysitter’s house.
He had to find Luna before it was too late and so he bounded up the alleyway onto the street.
Harry felt he had to warn her, but what about he wasn’t sure.
Ron woke up to find himself amongst shelves of books. He knew intuitively that they were all empty, and that he was in an old library. The reason why the books were empty was that when the library was closed they took the words away and put them in a museum. That was, clearly, what you did with words when you didn’t need them anymore. Or didn’t want them. Ron stood up and crept quietly along the rows of discontinued literature and wondered blearily if the note from Percy was in a museum somewhere, with everything else Ron had ever said. He regretted a lot of those things now, like calling Percy a prat, and Fred and George and...
Ron picked a book off a shelf and opened it and saw that his mother had written it. There were words in this book, and it was every bad thing Ron had said to her and about her, even when he was a baby and could only think bad things, even those words were there. Ron dropped the book onto the floor, hoping that someone who couldn’t read would come to the library and take it away. He found himself running out of the library, out into a park surrounded by hills. Where was he now? Where were the people he knew? Where was Hermione, Harry, Neville, Luna...
Ron saw Luna halfway across the park walking a dog. He ran to meet her and she looked up at him happily.
“Oh god, Ron! You’re here!” She hugged him ecstatically.
“Have you seen anyone else?” Ron asked.
“Nope.” Luna shook her head. “I haven’t seen a living soul around here except for the dog. He was tied up a pole in another park and I thought... mmm... maybe... no-one will come for him.”
“That’s irresponsible.” Ron shook his head in disgust. “What if somebody’s looking for him?”
“You’re right.” Luna smiled. “Let’s go put him back where I found him, over in the next park by the picnic benches and pond and garden and telephone poles.”
She loved him.
There was no doubt, no nothing, other than the resolute fact that she loved him with all her heart. And she had no idea if he felt the same way. Some days that bit into her like a feral glass cat, and she wanted to escape. Then she’d never see him again. The uncertain smile, the shining red hair, the lean build; it was all poetry.
Ron thought for a moment that it was curious how she kept looking at him. He dismissed the thought from his mind. Everyone knew how serious it was between him and Padma.
They found the park and tied the dog back to the pole.
“Do you want to go and get a bite to eat or something?” Luna asked.
But Ron was gone.
The brains from the Thought Room in the Ministry of Magic had left deep scars, but until this moment Ron had never relapsed. Now, vulnerable, he was spirited away into foreign memories. Luna sensed right away what had happened.
“Oh, god...” she muttered, bounding into the forest, looking up and seeing a broken escalator. She ran up the escalator and chased the battered old train conductor down. He told her where Ron was for the moment and she knifed through a paper-thin boundary to a brick road and a tall-domed building in the distance.
Where was he?
Luna looked around and saw an overturned truck across a bare, icy field.
Whose memory was this?
Luna ran along the road and turned quickly around a bend. There was a giraffe standing awkwardly in a cage next to her. This was no way to treat an animal. Luna carefully undid the chain that held the cage together and it collapsed. The giraffe galloped away down the road and Luna began to regret what she had done. This was somebody else’s memory after; what if that changed things? She turned around and saw a man running away in the opposite direction. Luna felt she had to tell him something, but what? All of a sudden the man collapsed. He was dead.
Luna started to run to him but something changed and she was running backwards now. She landed next to a mountain at a theme park. Then she was being strapped into a seat on a roller coaster. They were going to climb this mountain in awkward, shuddering cars.
Luna had always been afraid of heights. She looked next to her and saw Ron. He was a long ways away but then beside her, smiling.
“I’m glad I found you. Whose memory is this?”
The car twitched to life and began its ascent up the side of the mountain.
“I don’t know.” Ron whispered. “But I don’t like this memory. I don’t like it at all. People die...”
“Who dies?” Luna asked.
“We do.”
“Both of us?”
“Everyone dies. There are only two survivors. Two survivors and a nurse.”
“Do people come back to life?”
“The dream ends before that. All that’s left is the memory.”
They were impossibly high up now, escalating gradually against the skin of the mountain. Luna looked below her. There were people watching her; children. She didn’t want them to see this. She didn’t want to die.
The roller coaster shuddered and the track lurched out from beneath them. Now all that was holding them together was the stretch of metal overhead, bolted to their car for now and hopefully for the rest of the ride.
Luna had never believed in God, but now she began to pray.
The car lurched around a corner and there, in front of them, was the drop. The metal bar overhead was gone. The twisted heap of metal tracks lay on the ground far below them. They would simply drop off the edge of the bar. A sweet melancholy feeling pervaded Luna. She would be with her mother again, wouldn’t she? Then again, she’d never be able to see any of her friends again. She wouldn’t be able to see Ron. No... Ron would be with her. She squeezed his hand as they went off the edge and plummeted violently to the earth. Luna felt the ground explode around her, and a sharp searing pain. She couldn’t breathe, and stopped trying to. She died.
Ron died a moment later, living through the impact. He was flung from his seat into a pile of broken metal. There was a burning that rose all around him as he felt himself slipping away. He had regrets.
Luna watched the entire thing from a distance. She had seen herself plummet, although lost sight of herself amid the wreckage. She was frozen among the crowd of people that gathered around the scene of the accident. She was unsure of what to do.
For years Luna had wanted to die to be with her mother but now she felt nothing but horror at the thought of death. Luna had just died; or at least another aspect of herself had died. She turned away, resolute in her want to live, and her want to escape from this memory. First she had to find Ron, who was trapped somewhere in this foreign memory.
From around a corner he ran, desperate.
“Luna, I heard that...”
“Both of us died.”
“What?”
“In the accident. Both of us were there.”
“How could that be?”
Luna shook her head, not knowing what to say at first. “They were different aspects of ourselves.”
Ron looked confused and stayed silent, but only for a moment.
“We’ve got to get back.” he insisted. Luna nodded.
“I think I saw the way out, it’s over here.” Ron started walking away and Luna fell to the ground, standing up in a cool October playground unaware of what had happened at the theme park.
It hadn’t been her memory, after all.
She stood shakily and moved to the swingsets, trying to rid herself of a strange, clammy feeling in her gut. Luna focussed on the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, and closed her eyes, and thought about the keen, sharp smell of autumn whirling around her.
Harry was here.
She opened her eyes and looked at him standing across the street.
All she wanted right now was to be with him.
“Come on over.” she called. “Sit next to me.”
He did.
They got to talking, and Luna had the strangest sense of deja vu. It occurred to her that Neville was in the corner store across the street and that Ron was in the school behind them, and that Hermione was getting off of a bus right now a block away from them.
“Just a second.” Luna said, interrupting Harry. “We need to find Neville, Ron and Hermione. I’m going across the street to collect Neville. He’s in that store there getting yelled at. Ron is in the school just behind us. That blue door there is unlocked. He’s in the first room to the right.”
Harry looked at Luna curiously for a second, but knew it was better not to question her unusual insights. She was, more often than not, right.
When Harry had dragged Ron out of the kindergarten room of the school (for that was where he found him), he saw that Hermione was sitting affably on a bench by the edge of the playground and that Luna was having a conversation with the store owner. Neville was standing close-by, looking doleful.
“...shouldn’t suspect people...” He heard Luna say crisply.
“My apologies, it’s just that...”
“I know.” Luna waved a wand. “We assume things. Just don’t let it happen again.”
She smiled at the shopkeeper and Harry was again paralyzed by the flash of light that beamed across her face.
“Harry.” Hermione called. “It’s good to see you. I was wondering if I ever would again.”
Ron had already crossed the park and was sitting next to her.
“I saw the strangest person a couple of minutes ago.” Hermione remarked as Harry approached her. “She was a woman who looked to be in her forties with long dark hair and piercing eyes. Quite an ominous person, really... She looked a little like my year two teacher. She glanced at me for a moment and then laughed, just a little, and walked away.”
Luna walked across the street with Neville and waved to Hermione.
“I knew we’d find you eventually.” she said.
“How do we get back onto the island?” Neville asked.
“I don’t think we’re going to.” Harry stated. “If we keep on walking then eventually we’ll end up somewhere else.”
“And if we don’t find it?” Ron asked, a little nervously.
“We will.” Harry said. “It’s a nice night anyway.”
They left the playground then and walked together up and down the darkening streets, feeling at peace with themselves and their new autumnal environment. At dawn, the houses around them started flickering away, and soon they found themselves in another new world.

***

Next chapter: November 23
"Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice."
-Robert Frost

Yes, it's late. I'm also a little stuck in the story. I'm up to the chapter for December 29th, but it's getting hard to write. I like to keep a month ahead, too. That's not going to happen.

***

And maybe we’ll get lucky and we’ll both grow old. Well, I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know, I hope so.
-Brock, Modest Mouse

It was cold.
Ron and Hermione stumbled onto an icy plain, flat as far as the eye could see, and freezing. Snow blew past them and rose up in a fine dust attempting to swallow their huddled forms, trying to stand against the wind.
“Where are they?” Ron asked, looking around. “Where’re the others?”
“Oh, no...” Hermione muttered. “We’ve been separated again...”
“Where do we go?” Ron asked.
“I don’t know. Someplace warm.”
They looked at each other, worried and bleary. It was another obstacle. It was another challenge. It would be another day added on to the time before they would be safe and warm in front of a fire in the Gryffindor common room.
“Come here...” Ron said, wrapping an arm around Hermione. “We should just start walking and see what happens.”
Hermione nodded.
“I’m worried about the others.” she said.
Ron nodded, wondering what had happened to their friends.

***

Harry and Luna appeared on an arctic horizon, a white plateau of frozen cold surrounding them like a hopeless frosted desert.
“Where are we?” Harry asked, turning around. “God, it’s cold.”
Luna lay a comforting hand on his arm as she peered around the forsaken landscape.
“I think I know how to get out.” she said after a moment.
Harry looked at her and half-smiled despite himself, remembering why he had started to love her in the first place.
“The way out isn’t just a random place. There is a certain spot in all these landscapes in which we can pass through. But I don’t know if we’re headed toward the ruins.” Luna mused.
There was a silence.
“What do you think we should do?” Harry asked.
Luna sighed and shrugged, looking at him hopefully.
“Do you have any ideas?” she asked.
“No.” Harry admitted.
Luna took her wand and pointed it at the sky.
“Arctos astrum.” she called. A spark flew out of the tip of her wand and hurdled into the sky, settling slightly to the east of where they were standing.
“That’s the North Star.” Luna pointed, and paused. “It only makes sense on a basis of logic, but what do you think?” she asked.
“We might as well see what’s there.” Harry replied.
“Okay.” Luna smiled.
They walked, and a few minutes later Luna tentatively took Harry’s hand in her own.
It was getting easier.

***

Ron and Hermione had been walking for hours in silence. Finally, Ron spoke.
“What do you think will happen if we don’t find shelter?” he asked.
There was a lengthy pause.
“We could probably melt through the ice and make a hole.” Hermione mulled.
“What would that do?”
“It would give us shelter. I read about it in a book once, a long time ago. Seeing as how we’re in an Arctic climate, this is probably permafrost so normally it wouldn’t work. I read it in a Muggle book, so they hadn’t considered using magic.”
Ron nodded. “Sage idea.” he said. “When should we do it?”
“Well, I don’t know if we should do it yet. We have to find the others.” Hermione replied.
“Can I ask you a question?” Ron asked.
“What about? You sound worried.”
“It’s nothing much, it’s just that... I was wondering whether you had thought about the artifact at all.”
It was the first time they’d talked about it since they had been in the forest proper.
Hermione considered the question for a moment.
“I don’t know.” she finally said.
“I’m just worried.” Ron muttered, staring determinedly at the ground. “If we can’t find the artifact, I... I don’t know. It’s just... I worry.”
Hermione hadn’t thought about it before this moment.
She had been whisked from her bed by Dumbledore in the dead of night in the middle of a Ministry invasion, she had been put through hell wandering through strange and forlorn landscapes... through mountains, to an island, and now in an icy desert.
She hadn’t thought about it before now, but it became clear suddenly, noisily. She had taken advantage of the windows surrounding her, and they had now shattered.
Hermione didn’t want to die. She wanted to be a Professor at Hogwarts, she wanted to continue to learn about the magical world, she wanted to travel, and now she knew somebody she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, for now. It was unfair that the possibility of death intrude on her life so quickly. It was more than unfair; it was callous. Obscene. She couldn’t talk about it. She couldn’t put it into words.
Tears ran down her face.
She didn’t want to worry Ron, but...
“Oh, god...” she sighed, wiping the tears away impatiently.
“I’m sorry.” he said. “I didn’t want to worry you. We’ll find it.”
Ron felt burning shame rise up inside him. How could he have put her through this? She hadn’t been thinking about it, they hadn’t been talking about it, and his own stupid desire to ask her stupid questions made him ask, and he’d made her cry. Ron kicked himself to the ground, leaned close, and closed his hands around his throat. It had been a stupid question. Kick to the stomach. He didn’t deserve her. Punch to the nose. She didn’t even like him, he thought angrily. He’d probably just ruined their relationship and their friendship, all for nothing, just because he couldn’t keep his stupid questions to himself. He’d ruined everything. It had been days since they’d talked about their relationship and how much they’d meant to each other. With a lurching anxiety Ron remembered that he had been the one to initiate hand-holding and hugging for the last four days, at least. She didn’t like him after all! He’d been the only one, and she wanted to get out of it. He disgusted her.
She didn’t want to lose him. She thought of what she could have in the future with him. Hermione thought of the house she wanted to buy, of him whining about grey hairs, about bothering Ron about burnt pancakes on the morning of their twentieth anniversary. She wondered when she had last told him how much he meant to her and looked at him trudging across the ground. She leaned forward and kissed him.
He found himself happier than he had been in a long time.
He had been wrong.

***

Next chapter: November 28
I was reading Beverley Nichols at the time I wrote it.

Schildpad is based on the character of Tortoise from Beverley Nichols' book "The Tree that Sat Down". I don't intend this so much as a disclaimer than as a recommendation. It's a wonderful fantasy book, somewhat in the style of the Narnia Chronicles.

***

Neville stumbled into a hollow, dark tunnel. Suddenly, light surrounded him. The walls had turned into an achingly bright white, and Neville quickly covered his eyes. The light hurt.
“Too bright?” called a voice, and the lights dimmed slightly. Neville looked up, hoping to see somebody. There was no-one there for a moment, and then a man emerged from thin air.
He was ancient. Eyes swirled, all wind and rain, yet calm at the same time. They were hurricane eyes. Tumultuous wisps of silver hair flew out around him, forming a sort of crude halo. His smile was a little weary, yet kind. He was hunched over slightly, wearing long robes that looked like afternoon. There were no other words to describe it. It was just... daylight.
“Greetings.” the man chimed. “My name is Schildpad. I notice, with no small amount of sympathy, that you seem to be lost.”
“Well... it’s nice to meet you, but... where am I?” Neville asked. Shadows raced across the rounded walls.
“You’re not really anywhere right now.” Schildpad said, and chewed his lower lip. “That’s not much help, is it?”
“No.”
“Well, the thing is, is that I want to help you. I’m thinking you’re in need of a little help.”
Neville raised his chin.
“I get along by myself.”
“You’re not very good with spells, are you?” Schildpad murmured.
“No...”
“Wrong! Everyone can be good with spells. You just need practise.”
“I’ve had practise!” Neville declaired stubbornly. “I’m in my sixth year at Hogwarts. That’s a... that’s a wizarding school.”
“That’s one kind of practise, and evidently it hasn’t done much good for you. So let’s think of a better way.”
Neville shrugged. “I can’t think of anything.”
Schildpad nodded.
“Let’s play to your strengths. What do you like doing?”
“Anything.” Neville gestured helplessly. “I’m not really good at anything...”
Schildpad narrowed his eyes and cocked his head.
“You like gardens, don’t you?”
There was a sparkle at the back of Neville’s eyes and the memories of a thousand flowers and a million plants rushed through his mind in a warm, comforting surge.
All of the memories joined together and tumbled into cohesion before his eyes. Neville found himself in a garden unlike any other garden he had ever seen before, because it was every other garden he had seen before, all jumbled together. It was if every living thing he’d ever loved were just pieces to a puzzle, and he was only now seeing the whole picture.
“I’m willing to help.” Schildpad smiled kindly. “What do you say?”

***

Next chapter: December 2
He's just not a people-person.

I'm having an increasing amount of trouble writing this story. I have chapters written up until January 1st, so I won't have to worry about it until then. Still, I haven't written in it for ages.

***

Snape reclined in his chair in the dungeon. He hadn’t taken over Albus’ office; nor had he wanted to. He was comfortable in the bottom of the castle. It was secluded here. Warm in the winter, cool in the summer, and dark. The light upstairs hurt his head sometimes... all of the noise and confusion hurt him. Now though, in his office, in his office... he felt safe. He closed his eyes. He needed to start recruiting volunteers to rebuild the castle...
The wooden door slammed open and splinters of wood flew off. Snape bolted up from his chair. “What in god’s name...!” he cried out. “It’s almost midnight, you...”
And he saw who it was.
Narcissa Malfoy.
“Narcissa! What are you... what are you doing? It’s past midnight.” Snape walked around his desk to the woman in the door and narrowed his eyes. She was bleeding.
Huge red welts lined both sides of her face and her eyes were blackened. Her nose was bloodied and a scrape down her left cheek suggested the burn of a curse. Her robe was tattered, and her arms were black and blue. Some of the bruises were already tinged with yellow. Her hair was messy and matted.
“What happened, Narcissa?” Snape whispered.
“I... I thought I’d...” she stuttered. “I didn’t want anyone to see. I didn’t even want to come here. I don’t want to give them away. They’re not bad people. They’re my husband’s friends.”
Snape looked at the floor for a moment.
“Your husband’s friends were responsible for his death. Do you mean to say that they are now also responsible for an unprovoked beating?”
“It wasn’t unprovoked, Severus. You just don’t understand them. They were angry at Lucius, and I defended him. It was stupid of me.”
Snape continued to look at the floor. He sighed.
“I’m not a diplomat. What do you want me to do?” he asked angrily. He was frustrated. How dare she just waltz into his office, bleeding, and expect sympathy? Snape thought bitterly of his own mother, who used to come into his bedroom in the middle of the night, with dislocated arms, broken teeth.
“Give me a hug, Severus.” she’d say. “C’mon now... Please?”
He hated sympathizing! He hated having to deal with those weak enough to be victims! How dare they?
“Severus, I... I don’t have anywhere to go. I used to go to Hogwarts, and Draco comes here... This was the first place I thought of. Dumbledore used to...”
“I’m not Dumbledore!” Snape shouted. Narcissa buried her face in her hands and cried awkwardly. The taste of blood filled her mouth. She had promised herself she wouldn’t break down... she was strong, she was strong, why was she acting like a foolish little girl?
Taplin stood at the open door.
“Severus, what’s going on?” he asked.
Snape looked at the professor helplessly and gestured to Narcissa, who turned around to look at Taplin.
“Good lord...” the professor said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to... to step outside, Mrs. Malfoy? And talk?”
Narcissa nodded blearily. Blood stained her white sleeves where she had rested her head.
After the two had gone Snape returned to his chair and stared at the ceiling, worn out and ashamed. He should’ve done better for his friend’s widow, he thought. Why couldn’t he feel? He could never feel anything. It was his greatest weakness and, somedays, his greatest strength.
These days though, it crippled and bound him. Why did it all have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t he just be by himself in his dungeon, alone?

***

Next chapter: December 4th
Marietta's curse revisited

Taplin and Narcissa walked upstairs, past the demolished Great Hall, and out into the night. She wouldn’t look at him. She was crying.
“Draco’s doing very well here.” Taplin said. “You should be very proud.”
Narcissa looked at Taplin and smiled.
“I am. How is he coping with everything?”
“Sometimes I think it’s hard for him, but he’s brave. I don’t think there’s any doubt that he’ll make it.”
“I don’t want him to end up like Lucius’ friends.”
“He would never...”
“I want to hurt them.” Narcissa hissed. “I want them to pay for what they’ve done to me.”
Taplin chewed his lower lip.
“They murdered my husband while he was sleeping. He would’ve wanted to die fighting. I wanted him to die fighting. It wasn’t the way he was supposed to go. So now I’ll fight in his place.”
“I know you’re angry,” Taplin said, “but killing those men isn’t the answer. You need rest.”
“I don’t want to kill them. I know things.” Narcissa whispered. “I’ve heard things. I still have connections within the old crowd, Giles... or at least I did until tonight.”
“What do you know?” Taplin asked.
“I know a lot.” Narcissa replied. “I can’t kill them, but I want to see them dead. I want you and Severus and whoever else is still here to fight them and kill them.”
“We can’t just attack them! It can’t be unprovoked!” Giles protested.
“It will be in self-defense.” Narcissa said. “They’re planning to attack Hogwarts again at Christmas, to finish you off. The rumours that Dumbledore heard were true. They didn’t attack early, that was just the first blow. There’ll be hundreds coming...” Suddenly, Narcissa screamed, fire bursting from her veins. She collapsed onto the ground, shaking, every inch of her skin leaking with flame.
“CONSTO FLAMMA!” Taplin barked, seizing his wand. The fire vanished, but Narcissa stayed limp on the ground, staring blankly into the sky. Taplin breathed heavily, eyes wide, panicking. The information had been cursed. “HELP!” Taplin screamed. “SOMEBODY GET OUT HERE!”

***

Next chapter: December 5
Two choices made. And oh, the consequences...

I was going to do it yesterday. Things happened. Dynamite, fishsticks, radioactive squirrels... I won't soon forget.

***

Severus and Taplin stood in the darkened infirmary above Narcissa’s bed.
“It’s the best I could do.” Severus murmured. “Her blood was turned to fire. She’s lucky to be alive.”
“Will she recover?” Taplin asked.
“No.”
“What will we tell Draco?”
Snape looked at Taplin, surprised.
“That’s not our priority right now. We need to find the relic in Garm’s city. We need to launch a preemptive attack.”
“Preemptive...? I don’t know, Severus. I don’t want any bloodshed.”
“This isn’t the time for diplomacy, Giles. Don’t you see what they’re capable of doing? There’s been enough bloodshed. If we don’t stop them now, they’ll be even more.”
“But even so, the students are already in the forest looking for the city.”
Snape shook his head.
“No, they’ve spent enough time wandering around out there. They’re not going to find it without help. Giles, I want you to go out there and find them as soon as you possibly can. Take Draco with you. If you don’t return in time I don’t want any more student deaths.”
Taplin nodded feebly.
“Do we know what this relic does?” he asked.
“Not yet.” Snape said. “We will though. That’s one of the reasons we need to find it.”

***

The three men stood together in the dark of the battered Great Hall. Light from a swinging chandelier above them threw shadows across Snape’s face.
“...you’ll have to go by foot.” he intoned. “We don’t want to attract any unnecessary attention.”
Taplin nodded earnestly, but Draco looked at the ground, not hearing anything.
His mother had been attacked.
She wasn’t going to recover.
He was alone now.
What was he going to do? There was no place to go, nowhere to turn, nothing...
He was left with nothing.
“Draco?” Taplin asked. “Did you hear?”
“Yeah.” he said.
Taplin looked at Snape and shook his head decisively. Snape curled his lip.
“We’ve all been through a lot.” Snape muttered. “What matters is that we keep on fighting.”
Draco didn’t say anything.
Snape narrowed his eyes and looked at Taplin, who gestured helplessly.
A gruff cough rang out in the darkness.
Moody emerged, seemingly out of nowhere.
“It’s on.” he whispered.
Snape’s eyes widened.
“How did you find out?”
“By the dittany plant in my old office. They sent a message. They’re being attacked. The Ministry of Magic is burning.”
“It’s a full siege?”
“That’s what I’m saying! They need help! They’ve asked for everyone to go to London now and help! Everyone who’s got a drop of magic in them and a speck of good in their hearts is going tonight to fight.”
“Good lord.” Taplin murmured. “Severus, we’ll go by floo powder. Do you think that’s too conspicuous?”
“We’re not going.” Snape declared. “This is the perfect opportunity to travel into the forest undetected. You can take thestrals now and no-one will notice if...”
“What the hell do you mean? You’re just going to let them die? Is that it?”
“Mr. Malfoy, may I remind you...”
“You’re just going to run the other way! You’re a coward.”
“You’d better shut up before I get angry...”
“Oh, and what’ll you do? What’ll you do?”
Snape removed his wand from his cloak.
“I’ll do enough to make sure you don’t go anywhere for a long time.” he snarled.
Draco shook his head. “You won’t even fight like a man! If you want to hurt me...” -but he already had- “if you want to hurt me, then hit me!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Draco’s fist flew into Snape’s face, knocking him back a step. Blood trickled down the professor’s face.
“I’VE STOOD BY TOO LONG!” Draco roared. “You abusive, simpering coward! If you don’t like something you shout abuse at it! You hate yourself! You’re fed up with your life and miserable! You’re just a sad, miserable man, and you’re a coward! You’re going to let hundreds of people die tonight, just to get your hands on something you want! Just to get your hands on a piece of rubbish! I can’t believe I ever looked up to you!” Draco paused, breathing hard, realizing what he’d said, what’d he’d done. “I did look up to you, Snape. And I bet I’m the only person who ever really liked you.”
Snape stood frozen as Draco turned away.
“I don’t care what you think.” Snape whispered.
He remembered the two walking, talking animatedly. Draco had been four years old, and already possessed an admirable vocabulary and a quirky point of view.
“Do you know where the sun goes when it sets, Professor?”
Snape had looked interestedly at the horizon.
“It descends into a kingdom of gold. That’s where the very best men go when they die.”
“The purest wizards?”
Snape nodded, feeling affection for the boy. He normally had no connection with children, and yet this one was different. It wasn’t just because he was Lucius’ son. There was a spark of curiosity in his eyes, a spark of genuine intelligence and ambition.
He’d watched Draco grow up, visiting his family three or four times a year, sometimes talking to the boy late into the night.
It only occurred to him now that Draco wasn’t a boy anymore.
It only occurred to him now that Draco had looked up to him and admired him.
Drifting in and out of confusion and depression, feeling lost and rutterless all of these years, Severus realized that he had been a hero.
And now he was nothing.
No. He was still an authority figure. Severus knew that Draco had been brought up respectably, and that he instinctually respected authority.
“You’re going into the forest tonight, Draco.” Snape said coldly. “You may think that I am a coward, but you know that I am your Head of House as well. And as such, you will do as I say.”
He had held this boy as a baby and wondered what he would be like when he grew up to be a man.
“Draco... your father would want you to listen to the Professor.” Taplin said.
Draco remembered the smell of unicorn breath.
He missed that smell so much.

***

Next chapter: December 9

The city shivered as ice grew on the swingset. The school had long since been abandoned and the walls were sinking into the soft, yielding soil. A stranger crossed the street and stood in front of the variety store for a moment. It was closed. He proceeded down the winding, chortling avenues and was soon lost again.

***

Elsewhere, the wind blew unrelentingly and unforgivingly. Harry looked curiously over at his comrade.
“Luna?” he asked.
“Mmm?”
“You know that... that bonding thing that you did with Neville?”
Luna nodded, hoping that he wasn’t going to get jealous again.
“I was wondering... what was it like?”
“Why?”
“I was just curious.” Harry responded. “And...” he paused, reluctant. “And... and I was wondering if you’d show me how to do it.”
“I’ve only done it once.”
“But you know how!”
“It’s instinct! It’s easy.”
Harry stopped in the snow and faced Luna. She turned and looked at him.
“Well, how do you do it? In the summer I saw a T.V. show at the Dursleys’ where people joined minds and all you had to do was touch their face.”
Luna smiled and laughed.
“Muggles make everything too easy.”
“It’s harder than that?”
“It’s not about touch. It’s about emotion. And it’s... well, it’s really personal.”
“You did it with Neville.”
“That was important.”
“And I’m not?” Harry shouted, indignant.
“You don’t just do it for the hell of it, Harry! You don’t just to do it because it feels good!”
“Does it?” Harry spat. “I wouldn’t know!”
“It’s really important.” Luna cried out. “It’s special. Once you do it, you have this connection with the other person for the rest of your life. It’s not just something you do once and it’s over with.”
“Luna, I really care about you.” Harry insisted. “I want to be with you for a long time. Don’t you want to be...?”
“It’s not like that. I care about you too. A lot. But I can’t do this. Not now. It doesn’t feel right.”
Harry shook his head.
“I don’t get it.” he muttered.
Luna touched his arm. Harry looked at her, not knowing what he was thinking.

***

Next chapter: December 12
Have you ever seen "The Snowman"?

I almost forgot to post this chapter.
I will finish this fan-fic. I don't know how, but I will.

***

We’re walking in the air,
we’re floating in the moonlit sky.
The people far below are sleeping as we fly.
-Howard Blake

Draco and Taplin strode across the icy grounds as the moon threw cold white light across the field. The two men crunched their way across the frozen grass, making their way toward the Forbidden Forest. Each was alone.
Taplin cast his gaze at the figure trudging along next to him, white-blond hair disheveled, too long, covering his eyes. Shoulders slouched, hiding a lanky build. Father dead, mother lost, Taplin thought. Too much like him.
“Draco...” he said, the word ringing like an icicle through the dark air, tinged with frost. “You have to understand that this is for the best.”
Draco thought of his mother lying in bed, helpless, empty. She wouldn’t ever speak to him again.
“What did she say to you?” Draco asked.
Taplin frowned. Oh. He was talking about Narcissa.
“She said... she said that she wanted us to fight the Death Eaters for her. She told me what Snape told you, that there’s going to be another attack on the school.”
“And then... it happened?” Draco asked, trying to stop the image in his mind of his mother, all grace and love, hitting the hard ground like a sack of bricks, her eyes wide and surprised, mouth flopping open foolishly, no dignity left.
“Yes. The last thing she said will directly allow hundreds of lives to be saved.” Taplin chimed. “You should be proud, Draco. She might’ve won the war for us.”
That didn’t matter. His mother was gone.
They arrived at the edge of the woods. Bloody meat, dripping with juices, swayed the thin branches of three or four trees in front of them.
Taplin saw them.
A pack of five or six magnificent beasts, attentively licking the meat, eyeing the new strangers cautiously. Would they be called upon to perform a task?
Taplin softly clucked and held out his closed hand, seeming to promise a treat. A thestral sauntered over, followed curiously by another. Taplin smiled to himself. He loved these gentle beasts, and as he stroked the hobbled mane of the first to come over the thestral somehow sensed this, and didn’t put up a fuss when Taplin gently scaled its side. It was time to ride.
Draco looked at the professor sitting in thin air.
“Thestrals?” he asked. Taplin nodded.
Draco felt an invisible something lovingly nudge his arm. Shakingly, he reached out to his left and felt flesh that wasn’t there. Uncertain, and almost tripping, he made it up onto the thestral and then he tore away in the naked inky night. He was not cold.
Indeed, a feeling of warmth surged from somewhere below him, like the taste of Christmas, of butterbeer, and he found it hard to focus on the thoughts that just a moment ago had seemed inescapable. Draco unwillingly found himself drifting onto a plateau of calm, and felt himself leaving one stage of his life. What was next? Up here it didn’t matter. At first it was disconcerting, flying alone with no means of support. But the view was beautiful, and what was even better was the strange, incomprehensible sensation of comfort.
Slowly, excitedly, he watched morning rise up and surround him, and soon he and his invisible guardian were tearing through a pleasantly cool and drafty day. Far below him- who cared?
Draco felt good, and after a long time of feeling nothing, it was an overwhelming relief.
He was human after all.

***

Next chapter: December 14
The lion wakes tonight.

I'm doing better with writing the fan-fic now, I think. I've gone back to the forums to help me get some ideas. It's good to see some of the things that we want answers for, at least.

***

Ron...
The voice floated to him across a space of a thousand miles.
Ron...
After a thousand years he heard it.
Her voice.
Where was she? Where was he?
Drowsily, he opened his eyes, emerging from a vast slumber.
Everywhere was green.
/I don’t know where I am\, thought Hermione. Ron heard her.
/Where are we?\, he asked himself.
She replied with a shrug. Her shoulders never moved.
“Say something, Ron. I don’t like talking without... without talking.”
Ron shook his head.
“Neither do I.”
He looked around him. The air was weighed down with a thick leafy heat. Everything was green, shrieking out vibrant, buried in different shades of the colour. Trees like limes, shrubs like moss. It was a verdant cave, whispering earthy secrets, plants trembling slightly in the emerald wind. The air was rainless, yet hung dewey and defiant.
“It’s the jungle.” Hermione said. “We must be close to Garm’s city.”
Ron nodded. The foliage was thicker than concrete. Hermione took out her wand. She had forgotten for a moment that she had it.
“Perspicuus via.” she declared, and the plants cleared away in front of her. Ron nodded.
“I need to pay more attention in herbology.”
“You need to pay more attention to begin with.”
The two started down the path.
“Freeze!” rang a voice.
The two stopped in their tracks and spun around.
A gnarled, sunken face, nearly human, slunk out of the shrubbery. A gangly figure followed, rife with burns and deformities.
“Who are you?” Ron asked shakily. “What do you want?”
The creature surveyed him with keen interest from beneath a twisted, furrowed brow.
“I want to know what you’re doing so close to the city. I’m a guardian.”
“Are we close?” Hermione asked. “Because I wasn’t sure...”
“Answer the question!” the creature barked.
“We’re searching for an artifact. There’s a war in the wizarding world.”
The guardian emitted a low growl.
“A war...?” he asked, curling his lip. “What are you fighting for?”
Ron’s face went pale.
Hermione found her voice.
“We’re fighting for the rights of half-breeds. There’s a terrible wizard who wants to eliminate you... and people like me. I’m half-Muggle.”
“I’m not a half-breed.” whispered the guardian. “I’m human. That is to say... another breed of human.” he spit on the ground and it sizzled. “I should kill you where you stand.”
Then he was gone, disappeared behind the green curtain.
Hermione turned to Ron, who was still looking at where the creature had disappeared.
“What... what was that?” Ron asked. “Do you figure there’s more?”
“I think,” Hermione said, “that we just encountered a descendent of Garm’s followers.”
“That doesn’t explain why he was...”
“You’re right.” Hermione nodded. “But I have a terrible feeling that we’re going to find something that will explain it.”

***

Next chapter: December 19
I had this dream... with different people.

Hmm. I really messed up with these posts. I was supposed to post a chapter on the 16th and 19th. Here's the first post anyway, four days late.

***

Harry woke up drowsily in the trench that he had melted the night before. Luna wasn’t there.
He stood, looked frantically around. Somehow he knew that she was in London.
Harry found himself running, helpless fear on flying feet, hoping to reach London, hoping to get there somehow, somehow he’d get there, somehow by morning he’d be at King’s Cross. Then, all of a sudden, he was. He scrambled up to the ticket booth.
“I missed the train, didn’t I? I missed the train back to Hogwarts!”
He didn’t care about secrecy anymore; this was important. He knew that Luna was already back at Hogwarts, that she had already left London, that she was back at Hogwarts.
The ticket-seller looked at him curiously.
“You’re a half an hour early for the train. You haven’t missed it, don’t worry.”
“You know?”
“Is there a problem?” a voice asked. “Harry?”
Harry turned around. Cho.
Her shimmering hair and fragile face beckoned as memories assailed him. Such a familiar form in an unfamiliar place, in an unfamiliar time, graceful, kind, swanlike.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked.
“I’m going back to Hogwarts. Everyone’s going.”
“This is the first time I’ve done this alone, without Ron or the others.”
“Well, I’ll help you.” Cho offered, smiling.
“I thought... I thought you didn’t want to talk to me... that you were angry.” Harry protested.
Cho shook her head and slung her arm around Harry.
“You don’t have to worry about that.” she said.
“I’m glad that... that things are back to normal.” Harry smiled.
Harry woke up in the small trench he had melted the night before. Luna sat next to him, opened her eyes, and stretched, yawning. She smiled dozily at Harry.
“Did you just... I have the strangest feeling...”
Luna nodded.
“We must be close to the jungle. Our minds are shifting.”
Harry sighed.
“I thought it was real.” he muttered.
Luna cocked her head.
“You don’t have to worry.” she said. “I’m not going to.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to do any of the things you’re afraid I’m going to do.”
Harry looked at Luna and smiled slowly.
“I want to be with you for a long time.” she said. “Don’t doubt that for a minute. Don’t you dare. I’m picking up your feelings, so I’ll know when you do.”
“And what’ll you do about it?” Harry asked, grinning. He felt a sharp pinch.
“What was that?” he laughed, rubbing his arm.
“Hey... I guess my theory was right. We can touch through thought now, at least a little.”
A warmth filled Harry, and the cold he felt turned to quivering light.
“See?” Luna asked. “We can connect in other ways. Just knowing how you feel is enough now.”
They looked at each other. A flutter rose in Luna’s stomach and she sighed quietly, happily.
“I do love you.” she said.

***

Next chapter: December 20th, at some point soon. The site is messing up...

Draco coasted slowly to the ground and was quickly swallowed by the green haze. Taplin landed beside him, and the two disembarked from their thestrals, looking around curiously.
“Where do we go now?” Draco asked.
Taplin removed a small stone from his pocket and whispered something under his breath. Red light exploded from the stone, burning an incorporeal path through the shrubbery. The professor nodded curtly and pocketed the tool. The light remained for a moment and the two stomped through the tall plants toward it.
“It won’t be long.” Taplin confided. “Not at all. Don’t worry.”
Draco nodded. How had Taplin known he was apprehensive?
For a long time the two trudged along in silence, but after a time there was a shriek, high and loud, rippling through the forest. Bounding out of a house of thickets came Hermione, fire in her eyes, looking at Draco and Taplin fiercely. She emitted a low growl and removed a sharp stone from her tattered, dirty robe. Taplin jumped backward and removed his wand, but Draco stumbled. Hermione took advantage of this and lunged forth, cutting him badly across the chest. She screamed again.
“Abeo tergum!” Taplin shouted, stabbing his wand into the air. Hermione’s skin flashed a hot red and she fell to her knees howling in pain.
“****, I shouldn’t have...!” Taplin muttered, crouching next to Hermione, checking her pulse.
Draco moaned. “I think I’m dying.” he complained.
“Shh, shh, it’s alright...” Taplin whispered, patting Hermione on the back as she slowly returned to her normal colour.
“You... you used... the fourth unforgivable curse on me...” Hermione said reproachfully, struggling to stand.
“It’s not officially unforgivable.” Taplin replied gruffly. “And it’s the best I could’ve done.”
“What happened to me?” Hermione asked, as Taplin moved to comfort Draco.
“I don’t know...” the professor muttered. “We’re technically not inside a normal part of reality right now. Being here must’ve altered your brain chemistry somehow.”
Hermione looked down at her filthy robes.
“I... I don’t know... How long was I...?” She shook her head. “Where’s Ron?” Hermione began to eye Taplin suspiciously. “And what are you doing here?”
“Severus sent me. We have to find the artifact sooner than we thought. It’s a matter of great urgency now.”
“I thought it was before...”
“We had time to spare then.”
“Is Hogwarts going to be attacked?”
“It already has been.” Draco said darkly. “And they’re going to attack it again.”
“Oh, god.” Hermione muttered. “Then we’ve got to...” she paused, looked behind her. “I don’t know where the others are.” She shook her head, running a hand through her mane of hair. “I don’t know where they are, I’m sorry.”
Taplin narrowed her eyes, then half-heartedly shrugged. “We’ll find them.” he grumbled.
“Where?” Draco asked.
“We’ll go to the city. They’ll be there eventually. Besides...” Taplin exclaimed, looking at Hermione, “you’re the only one who absolutely has to come.”
Her fate rumbled to the front of her mind again, storming and swirling in a grim protest.

***

Next chapter: December 23
Under the influence.

Okay, some bad news. My computer is sort of messed up right now. I don't know when it's going to be fixed, but The Dark Peace is on there and I can't access it. So the next few updates aren't going to happen as scheduled. Also, the police are after me, and if they find me there won't be any updates ever again. So---
What was that noise?
Oh....!
:wow:






:p

Well, I have the computer back. The schedule for posting has been bumped back roughly three days for each post. Anyway, I think I'm back on track as far as the story's concerned. I don't want to jinx it though. :p

***

It had been four days.
Taplin had managed to build a shelter out of the side of an ancient tree in the jungle on the day Hermione was found. It was by the tree that the search began each day, and it was by the tree that the search ended.
Four days. No sign of Ron, or Luna, or Harry.
Hermione blinked and saw sunlight darting on the leaves overhead. She sat up and saw Draco sleeping, back turned to her, looking unassuming, looking almost innocent. Taplin crouched on the ground a short distance away, head raised and eyes closed.
“Good morning, Miss Granger.” he mumbled. She raised her eyebrows.
“Are we going to look again?” Hermione asked.
“It’s the fifth day.”
“I know, but...”
“Five days.” Taplin asserted. “Five days. We’re going to have to re-evaluate our plans.”
Hermione looked to the ground. “They’re my friends.” she said.
Taplin sighed. “And if we do decide to move on to the city, don’t run away.”
“Why would I?”
Taplin opened his eyes and looked at her for a moment. Hermione had the unpleasant feeling she was being processed.
“I don’t know.” Taplin finally said. “I don’t know.”
There was a lurch in Hermione’s stomach. She couldn’t just ask him. That would be tactless. Still, if it was influencing him...
Taplin stood. Draco opened his eyes.
“Are we going to look for them again?” he asked.
Taplin closed his eyes again and bowed his head. He stayed silent for a moment.
“What do you think we should do?” Taplin asked Draco.
“We should hurry. We don’t know when the school’s going to be attacked.”
There was another silence, and Hermione wondered what she was going to suggest they do when Taplin asked.
He didn’t.
Rather:
“That’s what I was thinking. We’ll go the city.” Taplin turned around and started walking. “Follow me.” he called.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. What was his game, she wondered. What was he doing?
Still, she obeyed. They walked for a long time. Hermione stayed silent, keeping her ears open for the faintest sound in the shrubbery. Ron could be anywhere around here.
“We’ll stop now.” Taplin announced.
“Can we look for them tomorrow?” Hermione asked.
“No. We have to get out of here as soon as possible.”
“What if they’re hurt?”
“What’s more important? A few students wounded or hundreds dead? We have to find the artifact.”
“It doesn’t have to be an either-or situation, Professor. We could do both.”
“We don’t know that!”
“Exactly! What if we search for them an hour tomorrow and find them in that time? What if they’re within earshot right now, but they can’t walk or talk or something?”
“You’re sinking in a quagmire of what-ifs. Listen to reason!”
“I am being reasonable. I don’t know why you’re being so close-minded!”
Silence gasped.
“Close-minded?” Taplin finally asked. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not open to suggestions.”
“I know what we’re looking for and I know how to do it.”
“And a Mudblood is only a hindrance.”
Taplin didn’t blink at the word. “I didn’t say that.” he replied coldly.
“You didn’t have to.”
Taplin shook his head and laughed. “You’re so illogical. Is this a family thing, or...?”
Hermione’s eyes stung with tears, appearing like blood after the quick motion of a knife.
“Don’t insult my family. Don’t mention my family.”
“Oh!” Taplin laughed. “Is this pride? Is this vanity I’m hearing? Maybe a faint touch of hypocrisy?”
“STOP IT!” Hermione screamed. “My family was killed! Your friends killed them!”
The blood drained out of Taplin face.
“You don’t know who my friends are.” he hissed.
“Death Eaters.”
Taplin ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t have Death Eater friends.”
“Everyone who doesn’t fight against them might as well be their friend.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Miss Granger. I don’t have to be with you or against you. It doesn’t work like that.”
She swore at him and he remained silent.
After a moment there was rustling in the bushes.
“What, are you crazy?” rang a voice. “What are you...?”
Harry charged out of the bushes and found himself standing between Taplin and Hermione.
“It’s you!” Taplin shouted. Harry went to hit him, but Luna grabbed his arm.
“Don’t!” she protested. “We’re here for a reason!”
“We found the city.” Harry huffed, turning around and looking at Hermione wild-eyed. “If you want to come...”
Hermione looked at Taplin, standing pale and angry, and Draco sitting nearby watching everything.
“I can’t. What about them?”
“We don’t need them!” Harry insisted.
“I’m the only one who can get you back to Hogwarts.” Taplin replied.
“Nice heroics, Harry.” Draco sneered.
“Shut up, Malfoy.”
“I think I know where Ron is, too.” Luna whispered. Hermione’s eyebrows arched. She darted into the woods with Harry and Luna following. Taplin removed his wand and muttered a spell. The red light shone out ahead of him, leaving Harry’s path in darkness.
“We’ll wait until sunrise.” Taplin said.

***

Next chapter: December 29
Choices made are questioned.

Alright. I'm having more technological difficulties, and it appears that my computer has been possessed by some kind of dark, demonic force. As soon as the exorcist stops by, I'm going to post every chapter I've written so far.
I don't know what I'm going to do after that, because the story still isn't exactly spouting like wine from the waterfalls of bliss, but I'll think of something.
Happy New Years (the exorcist is booked until then, in all likelihood).

I'll be updating all through the day, because I can't just post one chapter and then another and then another all at once. This site is weird like that.

***

The night was long for Taplin.
He wondered, vaguely, whether he had done the right thing, whether he what he had said was wrong. It had never been wrong before.
He had only ever met a handful of half-breeds.
He’d never even considered them. Considered them to be what?
They were scarcely human. They were far from perfect. Only a wizard and a wizard...
But she was a student. A student, and she hadn’t posed any threat.
Only to his value-system.
And was that a big enough threat to cause something of this nature? Had he been so wrong?
Perhaps.
Perhaps not.
But what if he was? No, he wasn’t, Taplin thought. He knew... yes, this was the right thing to do.
He had insulted her family.
They had been killed by Death-Eaters.
Taplin remembered his own father dying. He remembered Lucius. He’d comforted Draco about Lucius.
What if they had been bad Muggles? What if they had been lying and deceitful?
Still.
A parent is a parent to any child. He had caused injury to a student.
She was barely out of childhood.
The night still lurked, bruise-purple, when Taplin rose. He guessed it to be hours before dawn.
He heaved a sigh and realized that there would be no sleep that night.
The night would be over soon.
She had still been in pain when he had...
Taplin tried not to think about that. He tried not to think about what he had done.
Was it wrong?
He tried not to think about that. He had work to do.
Yes... yes... work.
Work.
“Draco.” he whispered, nudging the student. “I think we should be on our way.”
He had to focus on his work.
There was no other way he could get through this.
Focus... focus.

***

Next chapter: Soon.
A triumphant return.

“Is he alive?” Hermione asked.
“Barely.”
Ron tried to move, but couldn’t.
“Shh, shh.” Luna whispered.
“Have you tried the... the... connection thing?” Hermione queried.
“No.”
Harry looked at Luna. He was his best friend. That was a reason for her to do it. That was a reason for her not to.
“You don’t need my permission.” he huffed.
She felt a surge of pain underneath his skin just by looking at his eyes, shifted uncomfortably to the ground.
“Harry.” Hermione said, temper rising.
“It’s alright.” Luna whispered. “I’ll do it.”
Hermione looked between the two of them, and then nodded curtly.
“Good.”
Luna peered through Ron’s closed eyelids and furrowed her brow. The bridge of her nose wrinkled. There was a strange energy coursing through his veins.
“I think he’s devolved somehow.” Hermione muttered. “It happened to me.”
Luna chewed her bottom lip.
“I don’t know if this is safe.” she said.
“What do you mean?” Harry asked, nervously.
“This isn’t human energy I’m seeing. It’s darker. It’s so dark.”
Luna’s hand trembled as she lay her palms on Ron’s shoulders. She made a guttural sound and her eyes flashed to the back of her head. Her blood burned and her skin began to pulsate. Goosebumps rose upon goosebumps. She turned cold and then hot, and then barked, blood rising to her throat. Luna found herself upside-down, being shaken by an unseen force. She didn’t realize it was in her mind until a moment later.
Hermione stood, not knowing what to do. She hesitated for a moment, breathing deeply. It was too much for Luna to handle. Hermione unpocketed her wand, glanced at Harry for a moment, and stuttered, “A-abeo tergum!” It struck both of her friends, and there was a burst of white flame that consumed them for a moment half-stuck in crystal fear.
“What did you do to them?” Harry rumbled, standing. “What did you do?”
“I’m sorry... It was the only way I could...”
The fire stopped and Ron was left, breathing heavily on the jungle floor, eyes red. He couldn’t catch his breath. Luna lay unconscious a few feet from him. A sliver of gold slit the jungle walls open and a figure bathed in indigo light emerged.
“Natur opgebn rachmones, tewe hobn schtarkeit.” Neville murmured, a shadow of a smile playing about his face.
The light died and the companions were left with only their heavy green fortress again.
“They’ll be fine.” Neville asserted.
“What was that?” Hermione asked. “I haven’t ever heard of that spell.”
“It’s just old magic.” Neville said, flushing a little.

***

Next chapter: Probably tomorrow. Maybe sooner.
Creatures.

When they awoke the next morning the students were surrounded by figures half-hidden in shadow. The darkened strangers were buzzing distractedly, circling the humans curiously and occasionally looking over at each other as if trying to make up their minds about what to do next. Hermione was the first to awaken. As soon as she opened her eyes she closed them again, pretending to be asleep. It didn’t work for long. Neville, who woke up first, accidentally attracted the attention of one of the larger figures. It flitted over to him and placed its hands on either side of Neville’s face. He inhaled sharply, but after a moment the creature moved away to Hermione. As it knelt in front of her, Luna sat up.
“Who are you?” she asked.
One of the creatures looked up and surveyed her.
“You’re human.” it said.
Luna nodded.
“We live here.” the creature said. “We keep this place.”
“You keep it?”
“Safe. Protected. We preserve it.”
Hermione spoke.
“Are you Garm’s people?”
The creature hesitated. “We descend from his legacy... we’re not his people.”
“Do you know...”
“Wait.” the creature ordered. “Why are you here?”
Hermione looked to the mossy earth. Everytime she woke up now she remembered what she had to do. She remembered what she was out here for.
“We’re looking for a relic from Garm’s city. Otherwise, I’m going to die.”
“You plan to remove this relic?” the creature queried.
“I have to.”
Another creature spoke.
“You’re the ones the guard ran into a few days ago? He said he threatened you.”
Hermione remembered the odd-faced man, not quite human.
“Was that the guard?” she asked.
“There were only two of you then.”
Hermione thought for a moment. These were a strange group, and it was difficult to understand what they wanted to hear. She thought of something.
“I never promised there wouldn’t be more of us coming.”
A third creature nodded sagely.
“True. You promised nothing.”
“You told the guard a fantastical story about a wizarding war.” the second creature observed.
Hermione nodded.
“It’s a suspicious story.”
“We can’t prove it to you.” Luna declared.
“True.” the third creature spoke. “You couldn’t.”
The first creature turned to the others and whispered, “They’re merely soldiers.”
“The guard said they looked weak.” the second replied.
“They’re honest.” the third noticed.
“They’re humans.” a fourth piped in, loud enough to be easily heard.
Harry roused.
“What...” he muttered. “Who are you?” Harry asked.
The third creature motioned to his scar.
“There’s a strange energy coming out of that.” The creatures turned to each other and whispered among themselves for a moment or two.
“What magic is that, human?” asked the first.
“It’s a curse scar. I’m fighting the same wizard who gave me this scar. He’s trying to kill people.”
“He’s the one you’ll use the ruin against?”
“Yes.”
The third creature stepped forward.
“Chances are they won’t even make it out of the city alive, if we let them in. If they live to find the ruin then I believe they’re meant to have it.” he said quietly.
“I think he’s right.” another creature concurred.
“Proceed then.” the first bowed.

***

The students crept quietly through the forest.
Harry saw it first.
Glistening towers of ivory and aged copper, stretching out ahead of him, bowing over the glistening albino pavement.
Luna saw it next. They were ruined and partially collapsed golden-coloured brick walls, toppled and decayed.
Neville saw a garden.
“Come on...” Hermione whispered to Ron, who was slowly regaining consciousness. The two were transported onto a plain of glistening indigo light, crystalized in a murky twilight. The separate realities twinkled and faded. They were left with the broken-up golden brick city that Luna’s eyes had seen.
Hermione blinked. This isn’t what she had thought it would be like. In all of her nightmares she imagined sharp corners and twisted tunnels, leering gargoyles and animal screams. She hadn’t seen lush, forgiving green and benevolent decrepitude in her mind’s eye.
“It’s beautiful.” Neville said. “Look...” he continued, gesturing to a patch of dancing scarlet flowers. “I didn’t think these grew south of the Arctic Circle. They’re magical. They... they cure...”
Luna looked at him, and knew. They cured memory loss. They also cured the avada kedavra curse, if the plant was administered a breath after the curse. A breath more and...
“I know.” she said.
“Look at all this.” Harry shook his head.
The fading regality stretched in all directions for what seemed to be an eternity.
“The storybooks all tell it differently.” Ron noted. “It’s supposed to be a pearl kingdom on a bank of clouds. And the waterfalls... I thought they’d at least have the unicorn’s waterfalls.”
“They might.” Luna pointed out. “We’re at one edge of the city. It’s going to take days to find what we’re looking for.”
“Maybe.” Hermione said. “We don’t know how this place works. It might change.”
“It was a block of skyscrapers a moment ago.” Harry mentioned.
“What...?” Ron asked. “It was...”
Looking around at each other, confused, it was only then when they realized that Luna was right. This was an unpredictable sort of magic. It had many faces, and this moment showed only one.

***

Next chapter: January 12
Godric's Hollow.

Hermione was alone, wandering through the ruins. A moment later, she was with Ron. He flickered away again and materialized at the top of a nearby staircase.
“I can’t keep on doing this,” Ron said. “It’s been four days.”
“I know, I know,” Hermione shook her head, “I know. But we have to keep looking.”
Across the city, Harry disappeared.
He reemerged at the end of a shadowy street, cast deeply in the ever-thickening glow of an oncoming twilight. Looking around, startled, his eyes settled on a house in the near-distance. It wasn’t large and it wasn’t extravagant. It looked to be a white clapboard dwelling, with a patch of green lawn around the front and a long gravel driveway that snaked around to the rear of the house. It was an unremarkable building, but one thought struck Harry: this was home. Somehow, it was, and although he wasn’t entirely sure how, he slowly and cautiously approached it, stepping across the luminous soft lawn. Lights twinkled merrily inside. What was this place? ‘Home,’ Harry thought to himself. But how? He couldn’t offer an explanation to himself, as it was an inexplicable instinct. But his parents were here, and he knew it, and he was at the end of a little avenue in Godric’s Hollow. He remembered, vaguely... Godric’s Hollow...
Brown ceilinged shops that seemed like caves... the sweet smell of unfamiliar spices... his mother’s smile. This had all been when he was barely a year old, and he shouldn’t have remembered it. He did though.
Harry stood on the front stoop of his parents’ home, looking around the street half-dazed and befuddled. The wind was chilly, but the night was warm. It felt to be late autumn. Across the street a jack o’ lantern glowed, a sinister smile stretching across its grotesque face.
Halloween.
It was...
Harry’s eyes began to water. Oh, no. It couldn’t be...
There were no trick-or-treaters on the street though. Harry frowned, looking for some hint as to whether he was a year early to his parents’ murders, or a few days early.
He didn’t know what he should do, and so he knocked on the front door of the house.
‘You’re interfering with time,’ he thought to himself. ‘What are you doing?’ But nobody answered his knocks. That was curious, Harry thought. He stepped off the front stoop and went to the large window next to the door. There were...
His mother, reclining on the sofa. Soft, red hair, illuminated by the woozy glow of the fireplace, her smile wide and lighting her eyes up, dancingly. They were his eyes. His father sat next to her, identical to him in almost every way, jet-black hair ragged across his forehead, square glasses in the style of the day over bottomless brown eyes. They were talking lowly, a thick buzz of conversation interrupted every moment or so by the loud chortle of James, or the twinkling chime of his mother’s laughs. Harry, captivated by the scene, stood by the window in the quickly cooling night for what seemed like an eternity. Again, there was a knock at the door. James stood, eyebrows raised in mild surprise, and Harry spun around to look at the front stoop of the house. There was a person standing there, dark and forboding, hunched over, smattered in dankness and gloom. It was a familiar face to Harry, cruel and pale. There was no love in those bitter, hollow eyes. There was no mercy in the twisted form. A sick feeling jolted through Harry’s body as he wondered why this man was at his parent’s house.
It was Severus Snape.

***

Next chapter: Most likely January 17
The nature of the beast.

Harry stepped forward, away from the window.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Snape didn’t answer. He must not have heard. Perhaps nobody could, Harry thought, and he was invisible to these figures in his past. James opened the front door.
“What the hell?” James barked. “How did you find out...?”
Snape removed a wand from his cloak and pointed it at James’ chest.
“The Dark Lord has his ways.” Snape hissed.
James furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.”
Snape looked in Harry’s direction, and a curious expression came over his face. Harry thought that he had been spotted, but Snape didn’t say anything.
“You know I’m willing to die for my cause.” James said, standing stiffly. Snape continued looking in Harry’s direction, then glanced at James and shook his head.
“Is Lily here?” Snape asked. His voice was softer now.
“What?”
“Lily. Is she here?”
“Who is it, James?” Lily called, walking into the front hall. Harry moved closer to Snape to get a better view.
“It’s Snape.” James said quietly. “He’s come on behalf of Voldemort.”
“Oh.” Lily whispered.
Harry cocked an eyebrow. Why were they just standing there? Why didn’t they fight? Why did they seem so resigned? And why wasn’t Snape doing anything? He just stood there with a dazed look on his face, eyes glazed over and mouth pinched sadly.
“You’re in regular contact with... members of the Order, I assume.” Snape murmured.
“I’m not giving you any information.” James growled, turning to look at Lily. Lily’s left eye sparked for a moment, and she walked out of the foyer. Snape seemed to barely notice.
“Do you think that...” Snape asked, then stopped. He looked at the stoop.
“Why don’t you just kill us?” James whispered. “That’s what you’ve been sent for. There’s no way that Lil and I can escape. We’re trapped, you have a wand, you allowed Lily to go into the living room and you don’t know what she’s doing out there... I don’t think you’re going to do anything to us, Severus,” James remarked. “Because if you were going to, you would’ve already. I know how some of the others have been killed. You knocked on the door. You didn’t apparate into the living room, or break through the window, or blow up the house.” James paused for a moment, letting the words weigh on the silence. “Why didn’t you?”
“It’s none of your business!” Snape yelled. “I have my own way of doing things! And... and maybe I’m not as cocksure as you are. That doesn’t mean anything.” Snape saw Lily creep back into the foyer, wand in hand. “And I need to talk to you, Lily,” he said. “You and James. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I need help.”
James turned around and looked at Lily. Lily’s eye sparked again.
“You can talk to me.” James declared. “Lily’s tired. She’s going to bed. Unless you plan to kill us right now, you can talk to me.”
“I don’t like you, James,” Snape sneered.
Lily, turned to head up the stairs, looked back at Severus. “And I’m any better?” she asked.
“You’re different,” Snape acknowledged.
“Hmm.” Lily muttered. “I see.”
“You can talk to me,” James repeated.
“I’ll listen,” Lily said, a flash of interest in the back of her eyes.
Snape stood outside for a moment more, looking awkward.
“You can come in,” James muttered.
“No, don’t,” Harry whispered. “Please, don’t. Voldemort’s coming. Snape will keep you here, he’ll make sure you don’t run.”
Snape stepped into the foyer, and Harry ran in behind him. The house was warm. James closed the door, barely missing snaring Harry’s shirt sleeve. Standing next to his father for the first time, Harry smelt a hint of unicorn breath on James’ clothes. He was almost as tall as his father and, indeed, standing next to James was like standing in front of a mirror. Harry wanted to reach out and touch him. The idea played on his mind for a moment, as Harry realized that nobody had been able to see him yet. He was probably invisible. Compulsively, Harry reached out and touched James’ shoulder, grazing the surface. When James didn’t flinch- he was staring coldly at Snape- Harry lay his hand on James’ arm. For the first time in his life, he was able to see his father in flesh and blood.
“Alright,” James whispered, moving away from Harry, moving toward Snape, “What do you want, Severus?”
“Let me explain... I was sent to murder you and Lily,” Snape winced. “But I can’t.”
“Why? You never had a decent conscience.” James spat.
“I know about honour! You saved my life! I owe you something!”
James was motionless for a moment, then nodded slowly and bit his lower lip. Harry raised his eyebrow, recognizing a nervous habit he’d carried on his shoulders since he was small. He’d never realized it had been his father’s trait as well.
“So you’re saving my life now? You’re saving me from yourself?”
“Yes. But the Dark Lord, if he finds out... And he probably already has... He’ll kill me, James. He’ll kill me. I need to see Dumbledore. I need you to take me to him. He’s the only one... he’s the only man who can protect me.”

***

Next chapter: January 23
A late night argument.

James and Lily stood in their bedroom, curtains tightly drawn against the window, and only a sliver of light protruding into the darkened space from the hallway outside. Harry sat on the bed, hypnotized by the sound of his parents’ voices.
“We can’t let Snape stay here, Lily. He’ll do us in while we’re sleeping,” James whispered urgently.
“If we don’t, he’ll be killed. Do you want to be responsible for a death?”
James hesitated.
“With Death Eaters it’s different,” he finally managed.
“I can’t believe you,” Lily snarled. “He said he’s reformed.”
“And you believe him? This is a ploy, Lily.”
“What would the point be of waiting until we’re asleep to kill us? The moment we opened the door he could’ve murdered us. Severus has given us ample time and opportunity to alert everyone in the Order to come to Godric’s Hollow and for all he knows we already have. He wouldn’t have been so careless if he was going to follow through with Voldemort’s instructions.”
“Well, I know that something’s up.” James said tersely, shaking his head. “We don’t know what yet, but we have definitely been taken. This is a ruse.”
“If you’re wrong, then Severus dies. If you’re right, then we die. Would you rather be responsible for a death, or be killed yourself, James?”
James looked at his wife, knowing what he wanted to say and knowing what she wanted to hear. He nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “But we should still be careful. I think we should tell someone that Snape is staying here tonight.”
“Albus?”
“No... We’ll talk to him first thing in the morning. I’ll send a message to Peter.”
Harry stood abruptly. “No,” he said. “Don’t.”
Then he realized in sick horror that his parents couldn’t hear him. He was helpless, and despite James’ caution Lily and he were walking into a trap.
James smiled at Lily as he turned and left the bedroom. Harry followed his father down the stairs onto the first floor of the house into the foyer next to the living room. Snape was seated awkwardly on the edge of a chair by the fireplace, now cold and empty.
“We’ve decided to let you stay, Severus. You’ll be sleeping on the couch. I wouldn’t try any funny business, because we’ve already contacted Dumbledore.”
Snape nodded anxiously.
“I’m not going to do anything, James. I told you. I need your help.”
“I know you said that. I haven’t forgotten. I don’t forget things too easily, Severus.”
And with that James walked past the living room entrance, through the kitchen and through a door by the back wall that led to a staircase leading downstairs. Harry stood at the top of the stairs in the open door watching his dad walk into the darkness. He decided that he couldn’t watch James contact Peter. It would be too painful. Unsure of what to do, Harry turned around and walked back into the living room. He trusted Snape even less than James did, and Harry wanted to make sure that his professor didn’t do anything. Harry couldn’t stop Snape if he tried, and he knew that, but it was the best he could do for his parents.

***

Next chapter: January 31
Who is that masked man anyway?

Harry roused dozily from a deep sleep, and found himself lying on a wrinkled blanket on the floor next to a patchwork couch. He remembered suddenly where he was, and stood. The living room he stood in was dark, but a yellow glow emanated from the kitchen. There were voices too, and Harry crept forward as quietly as possible, trying to determine who was in his parents’ house.
“...if I woke you.”
That low, coarse grumble belonged to Snape.
“It’s no problem at all.”
And that clear, ringing chime- almost song- was undoubtedly his mother. Harry tread quietly across the living room, even though he knew he was invisible in this past world. He tried to determine what Snape and Lily were talking about at late at night.
“I’m worried.” Snape muttered.
“About tomorrow?” Lily asked.
“No.”
“It’s something else?”
Snape remained silent for a moment. Harry stepped into the golden glow of the kitchen. His potions professor sat hunched at the kitchen table, and his mother stood by the stove.
“I don’t like talking to people.” Snape mumbled.
“Oh.” Lily said. Harry registered hesitance on his mother’s face. She didn’t want to intrude, but this was her house. Still, Snape had a peculiar nature, and was often self-absorbed.
“I’d like to...” Snape started, then stopped. “****.” he muttered. Harry looked at his mother and saw an idea flicker across the surface of her eyes. Or was that his imagination?
“Do you want a drink, Severus? We have tea.”
“Wizard brew?”
“Muggle.”
“Oh, god.” Snape sighed. “Fine.”
“What kind do you want? We have...”
“All Muggle tea tastes the same to me.”
“H’hm.”
Lily set about preparing tea, and Harry watched her transfixed. He missed watching Snape, who was also paying close attention to Lily. He, unlike Harry, had a stricken look on his pallid face. Something was causing him pain. Finally, Snape cleared his throat, and spoke, averting his eyes from Lily’s when she turned to face him.
“I didn’t just come here because of the debt.” Snape said, measuring his words carefully. He spoke slowly and awkwardly. “There was another reason.”
“I didn’t think you’d pay attention to a debt if the consequences didn’t favour you.” Lily observed breezily.
“It’s true.” Snape nodded. “Lily, I always found you easier to talk to than other people.” he paused then. “Do you know why your sister got expelled?”
Lily nodded. “Of course. A herd of Death Eaters attempted to ransack Hogwarts, and Petunia ran out of the school in fear and tried to hide in the Forbidden Forest. She could’ve been killed. McGonagall expelled her for her own good, or at least that’s what the letter said.”
“Petunia’s expulsion was my fault.” Snape said, talking quickly now. “She didn’t run from the school. She was meeting me in the woods. I was too ashamed to be seen with a Mud- with a mixed breed.”
Lily blankly stared at Snape. “I don’t get what you’re saying.” she said.
“We were dating in secret.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.” Snape’s face turned red. “And I didn’t want anybody to know. She wasn’t my kind of person. Well, she was pretty... and her personality... but... her breeding was all wrong.”
Lily nodded, turning cold.
“And I could’ve bailed her out! I ran from the woods before the professors could catch me. Petunia was confused and frightened. She didn’t know what to do. I ran. I did it to save my own skin. I...” Snape stopped talking, frowned, and stared at the table. After a moment he looked up at Lily, whose face was red.
“You were responsible for my sister’s expulsion,” she said flatly. “You could have done something...”
“I know. I could’ve, and... I didn’t.”
Lily turned around, trying to remember what she had learned from Dumbledore in her fifth year. She remembered him taking her aside, into an abandoned classroom, gingerly shutting the door behind them, telling her about Snape’s childhood.
“You have to be kind to a boy like Severus. You have no idea what he’s been through.”
She remembered his words, calm and measured.
“You’re very popular in Gryffindor, I understand. If you were kinder to Severus, not that you’re not now, perhaps others would follow your lead.”
Lily had never been able to forget Dumbledore’s words. That afternoon she had chosen mercy over indifference. After that, she found herself choosing mercy more often than any other option. Now, however, it was so hard to turn the other cheek. Snape had destroyed her sister’s life, after all. Still, forgiving him became a little less difficult when she remembered Dumbledore’s words.
It had been an hour of explanation. Why did Dumbledore tell her? Why not James, or Remus?
James wouldn’t have listened. Remus was too mild-mannered to be able to make a difference.
Lily had always been fiery. That was why she was chosen. It wasn’t a predilection for mercy, but rather her peppery attitude. Learning to be merciful came afterward, after Dumbledore’s talk with her.
All these thoughts tumbled around in Lily’s mind in the space of a minute. She could throw Snape out of the house right this moment, but she already knew that that wasn’t an option. What would James say? He’d boast about it and brag that he was right. She couldn’t let him have that, Lily thought smilingly. Severus would stay. She would hand him over to Dumbledore the next morning. Perhaps he could teach Snape about the qualities of mercy. Perhaps he could change him. Then again, perhaps not. Snape didn’t change. He was always the same man, frustrated and bitter, scarred and scared from his own turbulent past. No-one could change that, Lily thought. He was too far gone.
“Severus,” she muttered, “I don’t like you. But that’s beside the point.”
“I’m trying to apologize,” Snape blurted out. “You’re not making it easy on me.”
“I don’t think I can forgive you for what you did,” Lily said tiredly, shaking her head. “But I can accept your apology, and I know how hard it must have been for you to come here tonight. I’m glad you’re on the right side again.”
Lily knew she didn’t know that for certain, but seeing the glow on Snape’s face after she said it convinced her it was the right thing to say.
“Thank you, Lily. It’s been so hard for me...”
“I know.”
“You couldn’t know...” Snape sighed. “I had a really bad family life. I’ll tell you about it sometime, but I don’t want anyone to know yet. It’s... it’s really hard for me.”
Lily nodded. “I understand.”
Harry stood hypnotized in the doorway. Snape was human. He had wondered, and Hermione had always said so, but now there was proof. Snape felt pain. He was vulnerable. Harry remembered what he had seen in the Pensieve the year before, but that had only been one occasion, shrugged off with little difficulty after a period of time. Now there was definitive proof, sitting right in front of him. He was no longer Snape, but rather Severus, transformed slowly like a cactus in bloom.

***

Next chapter: February 4th
Not a good sound.

Lily and Severus talked for another hour about this and that, over tea. The conversation was riddled with stops and pauses and awkward silences. It was painfully clear that neither really knew what to say to the other, but tentative attempts were made. Harry watched everything through the amber glow of the kitchen bulb as the night wore on. After what seemed like forever, a pause overwhelmed the conversation, grinding everything to a stop. Lily shook her head and smiled, turning around to look at the kitchen clock.
“Wow,” she laughed. “We’ve been talking for almost two hours.” Severus nodded distantly. “I’ve got to get to bed. We should all wake up fairly early, okay? So just a few hours of sleep.”
Severus nodded again, this time with a faint sense of urgency.
“Okay,” he said. “That sounds like a plan.” Lily smiled at him.
“I don’t know if I’m just too tired to see things clearly, but you really are acting differently,” she noted.
“I haven’t changed,” Snape refuted. “Wait, how am I acting differently?”
“You seem more open. You never talked with me or with anyone else, at least not that I noticed. And we’ve been talking for two hours now, and...”
“Well, there have been a lot of pauses...”
“But still. You do seem different.”
Snape shrugged. “Maybe I am changing,” he said. “That’d be a first though.”
“That’s too...”
“Wait,” Snape hissed, holding up a hand. “Listen.”
A dry scratching sound rang out from across the house. It was coming from outside the front door.
Lily narrowed her eyes. “It could just be the wind,” she whispered.
Harry’s heart froze. It wasn’t just the wind.
“I don’t think it is,” Snape muttered.
“Should we turn off the lights?” Lily asked. “I don’t...”
“Shh. Just stay quiet. If it is him... he has very sensitive hearing...”
There was another gasping scratching sound. The ensuing silence bled.
Then James was in the kitchen, creeping lowly.
Lily stood.
“Did you see who’s out there from upstairs?” she asked.
James nodded.
“This is it,” he said, his voice ringing hollow. “It’s him.”
Lily closed her eyes, and softly whimpered, swaying from side to side for a moment. Her arms slowly reached upward and clasped her face. She buried her head in her hands then, and was silent. James strode across the kitchen, eyes red, and folded his arms around his wife. Severus watched, and so did Harry.
‘So this is how it ends,’ Harry thought. ‘This is how my parents die.’

***

Next chapter: February 9th

“How did Voldemort find us?” Lily whispered furiously.
James shook his head, and stared at the ground. “It looks like... it looks like Peter is with him.”
“Peter?” Lily asked emptily.
James nodded miserably. “Yes. Peter.”
“Oh, god... oh, god...” she moaned.
“What are we going to do?” Snape asked.
“I’m going to get Harry,” Lily said. She stood up, and James followed her from the kitchen to the foyer. Snape stood in the kitchen door, awkwardly. Harry’s gut started burning. He knew what would happen now.
The strange thing was, it all happened so slowly.
As Lily was headed up the stairs, the front door burst open. James was left standing amid the shrapnel looking at the blackened presence in front of him.
Voldemort laughed, deeply and venomously. James just stood there as Lily ran up the stairs. He didn’t even turn to watch her go, and she didn’t look at him. Harry, watching this, realized numbly that the two must’ve known what the other was going to do.
This form of Voldemort was angular and tall, noseless, with a wide mouth that stretched from one side of his face to the other. His eyes were tiny and dark, with flashing red pupils. His head stretched backward unnaturally, shaped like the skull of a snake. Behind him was Peter Pettigrew, shadows thrown across his face, smirking.
“Should I kill him, my lord?” Peter asked.
Voldemort shook his head.
“I want Severus to do it.”
Harry’s eyebrows arched in horror. Snape? He wouldn’t though, he had changed.
Snape stepped forward into the foyer, past James, and took Voldemort’s wand from him.
Snape’s face was blank as he turned to face James, who growled, “I knew it. I knew you too well, you bast-”
“Avada kadavra!” Snape barked, and a flash of green light enveloped James’ body just as Harry rushed forward, trying to pull his father out of the way. Harry grabbed empty air, his hands falling through James’ body, which sunk to the ground. Dead.
“Now get out of here, Snape,” Voldemort hissed. “Don’t think you won’t escape punishment. Peter, go quickly and summon the old crowd. After I kill the young Potter, the next phase will begin.”
Pettigrew bowed and slunk out of the doorway, scrambling to the end of the driveway and vanishing. Harry stood slowly. He couldn’t watch his mother’s death, too. As Snape left, Harry followed. Full of raging fury, brimming with a thousand thunderstorms, Harry ran toward Snape and tackled him, punching again and again, face, neck, back, arms. Snape didn’t move. He didn’t notice. How could he, Harry thought. I’m not really here.
Harry shook his head and turned around, walking in a small circle, thinking outrageous thoughts. He had to something! Snape had just killed his father.
I can’t do anything, Harry realized. Nothing.
“I want to save them,” he said into the night air. Snape walked past Harry, eyes red and lined with tears. He muttered something that Harry could barely hear. It was something about Petunia.
Then the house was raised into the night sky on a pillar of fire.
Everything was gone in a rushing scream of fury.
Harry let out a scream that he could barely hear. It was something about Lily.

This is it. I've found the ending that has eluded me for a very long time.

***

Harry saw it all, and watched stunned as Snape picked his way though the rubble of the house, through the rubble of James and Lily’s home. Harry was dazed. He couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t feel anything. All he could do was watch his professor, a confused young man here on this Halloween night, methodically pick through twisted scraps of broken walls, metal, wood, and somewhere underneath, bone and the smoking flesh of humans. After what seemed like an eternity Snape let out a cry and sent a long plank of wood flying across the wreckage with a decisive kick. Harry watched as Snape went down onto his knees and gently scooped up a tiny bundle of blue cloth, with a moving presence burrowed inside. Snape’s face was contorted in confusion and mixed emotion as he regarded the only survivor of the explosion, and the only survivor of Snape’s conflict with James and Lily.
Harry.
Snape’s face crumpled and tears ran down his cheeks and he confusedly regarded the tiny, helpless lifeform. He saw the lost look in the baby’s eyes and saw they were Lily’s eyes. What was he supposed to do? He should murder this infant, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to, but it might be the only way to save his own life. What now?
Harry watched Snape shake his head and stride across the wreckage, down the driveway and into the street.
Snape knew that he had to leave now. Dumbledore’s people would soon be here. He had to leave with the youngest Potter, and once he was gone he could decide what to do. Harry’s vision began to blur, and although he was crying, this was not the reason for the sudden fog. The avenue around him disintegrated and Harry found himself in a dark, dank attic. It was a mess of a place, a godforsaken hole in the wall, and as Harry looked around the sad little room he saw Snape huddled in a chair, arms wrapped around his trembling form, the swaddled infant placed on a rickety card table a few feet away. Snape wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been almost a day. What was he going to do?
He should kill the baby. He should kill it. He knew it.
Snape stood shakily and closed his red-rimmed eyes for a moment as he fished for his wand in his cloak. He pointed the wand at the boy, and croaked, “A-a-vada ked-kedavra.”
Nothing happened.
“Avada kedavra.” Snape whispered. “AVADA KEDAVRA!”
Still nothing happened. He buried his head in his hands. What was he going to do? The spell wouldn’t work unless he really meant it. He thought he meant it. He wanted to mean it.
“God, I want to kill you!” Snape cried out, shaking his fists at the small resting form.
“I want to KILL YOU!” he yelled, picking up the chair and throwing it across the room.
It narrowly missed the teenaged Harry, who was watching, still numb, at the other end of the room. He was having trouble breathing, but as Snape’s curses broke down into muffled sobs the surroundings again began to disappear.
Harry re-emerged in a room no less decrepit than the one he had just witnessed, but this room had a quiet, serene beauty. Even beaten and on its knees, this room had a love to it that shone through. This was Hogwarts.
“What... how did I get here?” Harry asked the darkness.
“Professor Snape brought you,” a kind voice rang. “And he brought you back to the castle tonight as well.”
Harry was silent, realizing for the first time how much he owed the professor. Then he remembered the terrible things Snape had done.
“Snape murdered my father,” Harry said.
“His name is Professor Snape, Harry,” the voice replied. “And yes. He did.”
“I can’t forgive him,” Harry droned blankly. He still felt numb. “I want to kill him.”
There was a long pause and the face of the voice emerged out of the darkness. Dumbledore’s long, pearly white beard dangled down over velvet robes, and his eyes gleamed sadly.
“I can’t imagine how much pain you must be in right now," Dumbledore whispered, "But we are all capable of great evil, Harry. Everyone is. The most beautiful thing about being human is that we are also capable of great good, and that at any time we can decide to become good. Whether or not we succeed is beside the point, and what we did beforehand doesn’t matter. All that really matters in the end is that we made the choice to be good.” Dumbledore let the silence linger and crystalize. “Snape made that choice when he brought you to me.”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t have to. But you might eventually, and when you do I think you’ll find that you and Snape have a lot to discuss. You two have a lot in common.”
Harry didn’t even want to think about this.
“What happened to the artifact?” he asked. “Where are the others? Are they alright?”
At this, Dumbledore nodded. “Yes,” the old man said. “Professor Snape and Draco have gone by thestral to retrieve the others. I do believe that Hermione found the artifact, but we cannot be certain yet.”
“So that’s it?” Harry asked.
“No, that’s not it,” Dumbledore replied. “This is just the beginning.”
“I’m so tired,” replied Harry.
“You can rest for as long as you need to. There’s a lull in the battle right now. For the moment, there’s silence. I don’t believe that Hogwarts will be attacked again, not since I returned.”
“H’hm,” Harry muttered, letting tiredness overtake him. “And why were you away?”
Dumbledore smiled. “Ah, it was a mission. Perhaps one of the hardest things I have ever done. But it’s finished now.”
Harry felt himself drifting off to sleep, and saw silver figures emerge out of the sweet hearted darkness to console him. Who were these apparitions? What unfamiliar magic was this? Hadn’t he seen it all, so far?
No, no, he hadn’t. There was still so much to be seen. The translucent spectacles sat down with Harry, and sang a handful of words into his ear.
Such solace was found in these few words.
His parents weren’t dead.
They were here, after all, as Harry was drawn into an afternoon last summer in a world when his parents hadn’t died. Here in a kitchen of Godric’s Hollow was his mother, baking something. In the den was his father, reading. Outside the buzz of a lawnmower hummed lazily through the loving heat. None of this would ever be, but it was.
Just for one shining moment, all of it was true.

I thought I was finished The Dark Peace. I just couldn't see an ending on the horizon, and so I just came up with one, leaving many threads hanging in the process. I've been re-reading this story though, and I thought that I was finally up to the challenge of concluding it. For real, this time. And so I have. I've given it the climax it's always deserved, and I've wrapped everything up as best as I can. Not everything is in a nice little package by the end of it, because that's not the way things tend to work out.
In any case, I hope you enjoy it. I did, and I thought I might never enjoy writing this story again.

***

“Harry, you have to wake up.”
He was startled from his reveries.
“Wake up, **** it! They’re here!”
Harry stirred. His eyes flickered open. It was Moody, crouched over him, eyes wide with fear.
“What’s happening?” Harry asked. “What...?”
“Shh, they’ve come in from Hogsmeade. They’re on the grounds now, moving toward the castle. We thought the Death Eaters wouldn’t return, but they have. And I don’t know where the hell Dumbledore is. He’s disappeared again.”
“What do I do?”
Moody stared at Harry for a moment.
“How are you at occlumency?”
Harry shook his head. “I’m rubbish.”
“Have you ever been able to send yourself somewhere using your mind? Have you ever been able to project yourself somewhere, in a time of great need?”
Harry remembered rushing across the Forest, into Luna’s visions. He nodded slowly.
So did Moody.
“You have to summon the others. They’re still in Garm’s ruins, for all I know. Nobody’s really sure what’s happening over there. We’ve lost our connection with them. Something has happened.”
Harry felt weak. He had wanted to rest, he had wanted to relax. But now...
Now he had to leave again.
“Try,” Moody whispered. “Concentrate.”
Harry did.
And then he was gone in a rush of wind and sound.

***

Harry raced across the sky over the ruins. There had to be hundreds of miles in Garm’s wasted city, and Harry didn’t know where his friends would be.
Then he heard them. Distant screams, distant cries, but they weren’t voices. These were thoughts Harry heard. He spotted a gateway in a courtyard, and landed there. It was strange business projecting a ghostly image of yourself across space, and Harry disliked it more than any other form of transportation he’d encountered thus far.
“What do I do?” he thought to himself. “Do I walk through the gateway?”
Then Harry heard phoenix song. He looked up into the sky over the city and saw a flash of fiery colour.
Fawkes.
It was going to be all right. The bird landed on the top of the gateway and peered down at Harry.
He had to go through the gateway. He’d find himself in a very strange place, but he couldn’t let himself be afraid. Harry walked under the arches and felt himself disappear. Then he was pulled out of his bed at Hogwarts, and his entire body- spirit and physical form- was transported together into a blank space that seemed to stretch on forever in all directions. If it hadn’t been for Fawkes, he wouldn’t have gone on.

***

Suddenly, Hermione was there, along with Ron and Neville.
“Harry!” Hermione cried out. “Where have you been? God, we’ve been worried!”
“Sirius’ brother is here,” Ron gasped. “He’s got Luna.”
“What?” Harry shouted. “Sirius’ brother is dead.”
“He isn’t,” Neville said. “Regulas is alive. And he wants to bring Sirius back.”
Harry didn’t know what to think.
“Why would he do that?” he asked. “Sirius hated him.”
“Regulas thinks that Sirius was a dark wizard, that he was spying for Voldemort. He thinks that if he can reincarnate him then the Black brothers can win the war for the dark side.”
“Oh, god...”
“And he took Luna because of the old stories,” Ron stammered. “They all say that when you bring someone back from the dead, you have to kill someone first. A soul for a soul.”
“Well, where are they? We’ve got to find them!”
“We’ve been looking for days,” Neville cried. “This white expanse goes on forever.”
Harry thought for a moment.
“When we were lost in that icy desert, Luna knew a spell to make the North Star appear. A navigational spell.”
“There aren’t any stars here, Harry,” Hermione reasoned. “We’re inside.”
Neville frowned. “Are you sure about that?” he asked.
Ron looked around the blankness. “Any suggestion is helpful right now,” Ron finally said. “Try the spell.”
“Arctos astrum!” Harry called, pointing his wand skyward. A spark flew out of the tip of his wand and settled in the sky, slightly south of where they were standing.
“What is this place?” muttered Hermione.
“I don’t know anymore,” Neville replied.
They spent a day walking, and at last they came to a doorway.
Walking through the doorway, the four heard strange and beautiful voices, beckoning them and calling them forward.
“This is Garm’s home,” Ron whispered. “I recognize it from the storybooks.”
Neville nodded. “It’s a temple. Garm’s people worshiped centaurs here. It’s a sacred place. This is just the entrance though.”
Soon they came upon the main room. Stained glass was everywhere. It made up the walls, floor and, so far up it could barely be seen, the ceiling. A few feet away was a crumpled and badly beaten human form.
Luna.
Harry ran toward her, and took her in his arms, running the back of his hand across her face. It was caked with dried blood.
“Come on,” he said. “Luna, please.”
“Harry,” Hermione whispered. “She isn’t breathing.”
“No... no, no, she’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.”
“She’s dead.”

***

(In the forest, after a couple of days of traveling)
Harry: I don’t know what I want to do when all this is over. I guess I just want to be ordinary. I just want an average life. Someone to love, something to hold to.
Luna: Complete and total ordinariness?
Harry: Yes. Domesticity.
Luna: I’d like that, too. Harry, we could do it together.
Harry: You and me?
Luna: Yes.
Harry: You sure?
Luna: I’ve always been out of the ordinary. I’ve always been thought of as peculiar. I’ve never really had any peace. I just want tranquility now. I want to settle down. I don’t want to have to be anyone, other than me. Myself.
Harry: I know what you mean.
Luna: Imagine... trips to the zoo, picnics, barbeques, grey hairs... None of this turmoil, no more dilemmas. I just want to decide over whether to have coffee or tea, whether to go out for a walk in the country or just drive in to town, and not worry. I just want to be with you.
Harry: Do you think it could happen?
Luna: Of course I do.

***

Harry rushed through the main room and found himself on the temple’s altar. Suddenly, he disappeared. Hermione, Ron and Neville were behind him. One by one, they vanished, too. They found themselves in a dark space. The sound of muffled sobbing could be heard.
“Brother... have you returned?”
Harry crept forward invisibly.
“You’re not talking to me. Sirius, why won’t you talk to me?”
Then Harry saw it. A ragged man with a thin beard knelt on the floor, holding Sirius Black’s body in his arms.
“Can’t you hear me? You have to wake up now. We have to see the Dark Lord.”
Harry pulled out his wand.
“Get away from him,” Harry hissed.
Regulas saw him, and stood up, shocked.
“Who are you?” he stuttered.
“Get the hell away from my godfather!”
A thought flickered through Regulas’ eyes.
“... Potter...? The young Potter? Is that you? I thought...”
“I’m going to kill you, Regulas. You murdered my friend. You killed her.”
“It had to happen. Don’t you see? I’ve brought back Sirius. For both of us.”
“That isn’t Sirius. That’s a corpse. He isn’t alive.”
“He’s not alive yet! The gods are still working on that! But he’s back! You’ll be able to see him grow old now, Potter!”
Harry remembered Luna.
What would it have been like to have breakfast with her thirty years from now? Eating toast together, calmly, benignly. Growing old together.
“He’s not going to grow old, Regulas. That wasn’t supposed to be. I don’t know what was going to happen, and I still don’t, but you’ve changed the future. Luna was supposed to live. She was supposed to be with me.”
“Friendships come and go, Harry. Sirius was like family...”
“But he’s dead now! That’s over!” Harry felt a need to pull out his wand, to strike down Regulas. But he didn’t. Instead, Harry turned and strode across the room. Hermione hugged him tightly, and Ron patted him on the shoulder. Neville murmured something to Harry, and nodded.
The sound of hooves rang out on the floor.
Regulas turned to look and see where the sound was coming from, but it was too late.
Fists seized him as the shape of a centaur emerged furiously out of the dark.
“You violated our sacred place!” It howled. “You shed blood here!”
More centaurs emerged from behind Regulas, and three strutted over to Harry and his friends as the others disappeared, surrounding Regulas. One centaur stepped forward. He had black hair, and piercing golden eyes.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“We’ve come to seek out an artifact,” Hermione explained. “It was the apex of Garm’s accomplishments.”
“I know of what you speak. Why do you wish to use it?”
“We’re fighting a war against a terrible force of darkness. They’re wizard supremacists.” Hermione noted.
The centaur winced noticeably, and nodded.
“You’ve respected our holy place,” he declared. “Potter, you refused to use violence against that man. This is supposed to be the most beautiful place in the world, and it is possibly the most sacred. And yet here, you lost someone. And female,” he said, turning to Hermione, “You seem to be rational. You explain matters well, and do not allow emotion to lead you. These are the reasons why we give the artifact to you. Nobody comes to this temple without finding peace. This is a cathedral of dreams.”
Hermione nodded solemnly.
“Thank you,” she said, tears in her eyes.
“Use the artifact well. We will know when you use it, and we will be watching. If you use it for violent purposes, the centaurs will turn their backs on you. We will refuse to assist humans further in this war of yours. If you use it well though... The centaurs will become your strongest allies.” After saying this, the centaur craned his neck upward and looked toward the sky. “I’ve never Mars so bright as it is right now. I didn’t think it was possible for it to burn with such ferocity. So much hangs in the balance.”
And as these words chimed out in the dark, the four friends found themselves shimmering away. Suddenly, they were in front of Hogwarts again.
It was burning.

***

That night, Draco and Taplin found the temple as well. By now, Luna’s body was gone: taken to be buried by the centaurs. Draco walked alongside Taplin past the altar, and into the darkness where Regulas had crouched.
“This is it,” Taplin finally said. “Now we find our fathers. You and I.”
“Do you figure the old spell from the storybook actually works?” Draco asked. “I thought...”
But Taplin was already waving his wand around, in a gesture familiar to all witch and wizard children. Then he muttered the words, “Golasedela ba trosabatel.” and white heat splintered open in front of them. A thin voice whispered, “I see two souls looking for the lost. Give me their names, and I’ll give you all you wish for.”
“Giles Taplin,” Taplin eagerly said.
But Draco remained silent. Taplin looked at him expectantly. “Well?” he said. “Go on, it’s waiting for you.”
Draco frowned. “I... I don’t know. Maybe... maybe I want to go back instead.”
“What?” Taplin asked.
“I want to be my own man,” Draco then paused. “Look, Giles, after all you’ve done for me... I’m sorry, but...”
Taplin looked slightly disheartened, but then cocked an eyebrow.
“No, no, Draco. Don’t apologise. You’ve got to do what you want to do.”
“I know,” Draco replied.
And then he was gone.
He didn’t see Taplin’s dead father emerge from the heat, and he didn’t see the heat envelope Taplin moments later. Magic was fragile, and life even more so. Draco knew this as he found himself lying face down on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He passed out, exhausted.

***

Moody swept down from out of the sky in front of Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville. He was riding a thestral and clutching a wand in his teeth. He hastily removed it and barked, “Merlin, you’re back! I thought you were dead. I thought we were all going to die! I was just saying what a glorious day it was for premature death, but I guess I was mistaken. Do you have the artifact?”
Harry looked baffled. He had never actually been handed it. Hermione felt a weight in her pocket though, and gingerly handed a strange and delicate looking iron sculpture to Moody.
“Fantastic,” said Moody. “I didn’t think it would look like this at all. Well, let’s bring it to Snape.”
“Where is he?” Harry asked.
“He’s in the Penumbra- Garm’s lair. The secret entrance is this way.”

***

The students stepped delicately into the vast, dim gardens. Streaks of twilight traipsed through the windows and scattered over plants and pathways. Snape sat in repose, perched upon a stone. When he saw he wasn’t alone, he snapped to attention and stood.
“Well, well. You’re finally back. I suppose you haven’t noticed this, but Hogwarts is burning. Do you have the artifact?”
Hermione nodded, and handed it to Snape.
“What’s been going on?” Harry asked.
“I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you? You’ve been out in the woods for months, doing I-don’t-want-to-know-what. Well, most of the Order is dead. Thousands of wizards are dying in battles across the world, actually. Things are out of control. But for some reason, in the last couple of days, groups of thousands of phoenixes have been spotted over cities around the world. They intervene in battles, fighting dark wizards, they heal the sick, and it looks as if they’ve been rescuing Muggles as well, which is a serious breach of every ethic known to wizardkind.”
“Looks like Albus has been up to his old tricks again,” Moody grinned.
“Muggles have been fighting against dark wizards too, often making the first move in violently accosting them. If I didn’t know better,” Snape leered, “I’d say they had been recruited, but everyone knows you’re really not supposed to do that.”
“The old boy’s still got it in him,” Moody chortled.
“Our world is going to fall apart!” Snape barked. “Birds and Muggles can’t hold off the powers of evil forever! Needless to say, we’re going to use this artifact straight away.”
“We don’t even know what it does yet,” Hermione protested. “Shouldn’t we test it, or find out somehow?”
Snape looked at her in disgust.
“We’re at war, Miss Granger. We can’t afford to be hesitant any longer. We’ve got to take the offensive. I do know how to use this artifact. The instructions are in a very old and very rare book of magic. Two copies exist in this world, and I have one.”
Ron was about to protest, but the artifact started sizzling as Snape waved a hand over it. All of a sudden, it let out a blast of noise. Waves of darkness poured out of it, shattered through the ceiling of the Penumbra, and leapt out into the night. The force of the artifact knocked out everyone who had watched it awakened. The noise outside was silenced as well.

***

(A Muggle newscast from Aberdeen)
Knowlton: We apologize for the interruption of your regular scheduled program. This is an emergency broadcast. A town in Fife county, Scotland was obliterated early this evening by a devastating and unknown force. Everyone in the town is dead. Terrorism is the suspected cause of this catastrophe, and the British government is already vowing to destroy those responsible for this disaster...

***

Days passed. Dumbledore reminded absent, although now owls rushed into the Penumbra several times a day with letters. This was now the base of operations for the Order. Class had been canceled temporarily, although all remaining students were told to stay at Hogwarts by Snape, who was still assuming the role of headmaster. Everyone was trying to get over what had happened in the last few weeks. Harry struggled through days and nights thinking about Luna, while Hermione struggled to contain her fury at the disaster that had claimed so many innocent lives. Ron consoled her, while Neville spent his days in the Forbidden Forest, completing what he called training. It was unclear who-or what- was training him, however. Draco had been expelled from Hogwarts by Snape on the charge of assaulting a professor. The young Malfoy departed, presumably to London, and nothing was heard from him afterward. Students began to reappear at Hogwarts in January, and soon it was clear that classes had to start again.
One afternoon around Valentine’s Day, Harry was walking the grounds. He spent a lot of time these days contemplating; about the war, and his parents, and the people he loved. On this day, he turned a corner in Hogwarts and ran into Snape.
“Potter,” the professor said, “I’ve been looking for you.”
Harry was suspicious. After the catastrophe with the artifact, he was the last person Harry wanted to see.
“I want to apologise,” Snape stated. And then he walked away.
Harry watched him go, baffled, and then sat on a bench nearby.
‘Curious,’ he thought, ‘how there are so many things that continue to surprise me. I would’ve thought that I’d gotten used to everything by now.’
But he hadn’t, and this gave Harry a new reason to carry on. Day by day, things happened. Some of them were good, some bad, but all of these experiences started to form something, and shape something bigger than everyone at Hogwarts.
Harry told Ron and Hermione about this one night in the common room. Hermione smiled. “That’s life,” she said.