Harry Potter and the Ankh of Khepri

by The Velvet Ghost (velvet9409 @yahoo.co.uk)

Rating: PG-13

Fandom: Harry Potter

Category: Action/Adventure, Humor

Spoilers: Though OotP, Set 7th Year.

Disclaimer: As always, I don't claim to own Harry Potter or any of the characters by JK Rowling, although some of the characters are my ideas (Jinx, the Galvez sisters) so ask my permission if you wanna use any of them.

Summary: A new Dark Arts mistress, mysterious attacks at night, lessons to kill, an Egyptian monster, and terrible dangers await Harry Potter in his seventh year. Sequel to "Harry Potter and the Phoenix's Flight."

Chapter One: Happy Birthday, Harry

The Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom was suddenly cold today, though with good reason, as Harry Potter found himself standing at the window, wand in hand, watching a small bird on a branch. Lupin stood behind him, hands on his shoulders, watching him with those concerned brown eyes.

It was quite a sensation to look at something and know that you were about to kill it. Especially when that something was so close, and so unaware. So unsuspecting that it was currently doing the last things it would ever do.

"Go on, Harry." Lupin's hand on his shoulder tightened. "You need to do this."

The little bird on the branch outside the window was tweeting happily. Warbling to the sun. Happy to be alive, maybe even planning what it would do tomorrow.

"Close your eyes, Harry, it might help."

Harry closed his eyes, and raised his wand, then murmured, "Avada kedavra."

There was a flash of painful green light, that seemed to absorb everything. Harry opened his eyes just in time to see the little bird tilt sideways and fall from the tree, unmistakably dead.

Everything blacked out suddenly, as fast as having a blanket pulled over the head, and then just as quickly as his vision had gone, it came back again. He was sitting in a chair, somewhere cold and dark, pinned back, his head on a pillow.

"Are you relaxed?" murmured Snape's voice, in front of him, as the Potions master's face appeared out of the darkness. That voice seemed to wash over him in a deep wave.

"Yes," he whispered.

A cold hand touched the side of his face, tilted his head up, and those dark eyes were staring down at him, reaching right inside him, tearing him apart and scattering his mind and his soul into pieces. The mind was no longer a thing, a single voice, but hundreds, spread apart and examined one by one. There was another something there, a something he'd never known before, something that was dark and yet soothing. It was moving amongst his mind and dipping into the utmost corners of his conscience. He was only dimly aware of the bowl of water next to him, and his fingers trailing around in it, and then... heat was pouring from his hand, weeping into the water so fast and hard nobody had any time to prepare for it. The temperature of the water went shrieking skywards as it boiled. In front of him, he dimly saw Snape's smile.

And then, the blanket came again, flashed down into blackness and torn back into reality, bringing with it a surge of fire and glittering gold and green sparks. Draco stood before him in the darkness, completely alone, though he was surrounded by flames.

He was moving his arms almost as though dancing, swirling and ducking, twisting on the spot and then sweeping his hand out in a great arc. And from his fingers came fire, great green and red fire, that contorted itself as it ducked and weaved with him. Sparks were flying, and there was a dull roaring, as the tongues of fire formed a great dragon, which soared around the dungeon. It was amazing to watch. Draco was gazing at what he had created with wide eyes, standing as though king of the world, relishing and embracing his sudden power. Harry was cheering and clapping, whistling, as though the spectator of some spectacular show.

But before he could think, the blanket suddenly tore down again, and it was ripped back, to reveal a single face that Harry had seen many times before, though only in his dreams. The structure of a human boy, but with the tan skin of a lion, the eyes of a hawk, and a mouth full of sharp teeth like a crocodile. The boy was smiling, just smiling. "Morning, sunshine," he whispered.

Blanket down, and this time, when the blanket came back, there was nothing there. It was just nothing. Nothing left to see, nothing there, not even black. It only existed for a second, before there was that feeling of suddenly something happening, the blanket came down, and Harry James Potter was brought out of his nightmare as suddenly as it begun.

He'd been having these dreams for a month now, even though every morning when he woke up, drenched in cold sweat, he couldn't remember anything about them. And this morning was no different at all. He bolted awake, quite suddenly, torn from his nightmares so fast that he gasped. The darkness and the silence fell over him like a blanket, and as he looked around his dark room, the fleeting memories were already drizzling away. He sighed. Pulling the covers up, he sat back against his pillows and just took a few moments to let his heart beat settle again, wishing that he knew just what it was that made him so scared.

It was still dark outside. No light was peeking through the velvet drapes hung over the windows yet, and shadows were still thrown here and there across the darkened room. As always, when Harry glanced at his two room mates, he saw that Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy were still fast asleep. They always slept until nine anyway.

He sat up, taking his glasses from the bedside table and putting them on. The shadowy room around him came into clearer focus. Ron was lying on his back in bed, snoring silently, his mouth wide open, and under Ron's mattress, Harry could make out a box-shaped distortion. Ron truly was terrible at hiding presents.

For today was Harry James Potter's seventeenth birthday, at last. Four weeks before, his sixth year at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry had drawn to a dramatic end, and ever since, he had been living at Grimmauld Place with Draco and the Weasley family. During the month, not much had happened that was out of the ordinary - at least, out of the ordinary for a house full of wizards. Summer time boredom was settling in place, and being expressed in most inventive ways. Just the day before, Mr Weasley had been called home from work early to get rid of a hoard of dancing blue carrots which had besieged his daughter Ginny in the bathroom. Ron still maintained doggedly that it was an accident.

Of course, there had been sadness too in his month at Grimmauld Place. A week into the holiday, Percy Weasley's funeral had taken place. It had been a very quiet, sombre occasion, for just the Weasley family, where Percy's ashes were scattered into the wind on top of Stoatshead Hill. Where muggle funerals said goodbye, the wizarding version was more like, "until next time".

And so today was his birthday at last. It was the first of his birthdays that he would spend in fully wizard company, and he was definitely looking forward to it. There was that box-shaped lump under Ron's mattress to attend to, but more than that, Harry was most excited about finally celebrating a special occasion with friends and family all around him. And there certainly would be a lot of people to talk to. Staying in the house at the minute were Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Draco Malfoy, Remus Lupin, Tonks, and of course, Snape. Snape would most likely prefer to spend his summer anywhere but Grimmauld Place, but his duty as Harry's magical guardian had brought him here. Bill was over in England for Percy's funeral, and would be staying for a few more weeks, while the second eldest brother of the Weasley family, Charlie, was staying at Hogwarts with the gamekeeper Hagrid. Occasionally, Fred and George Weasley would come round to liven things up a little, or get the children to test some new product. Harry quite enjoyed these visits, because apart from that, he was stuck in Grimmauld Place around the clock, and it did get very tedious sometimes.

As he looked around the dark bedroom, Harry quite hoped Ron or Draco would suddenly wake up, so he could have somebody to talk to at least. He checked the clock. It was just after eight, so hopefully, Mrs Weasley would be awake in the kitchen downstairs, cooking breakfast for everyone. Thinking he would use the excuse of needing a drink, Harry got out of bed, crept across the room, and reached for the door handle.

With timing so perfect it deserved the Order of Merlin, the door suddenly burst open with a crash loud enough to wake the dead. Draco yelped and fell out of bed with a thunk, as into the room came Tonks, Fred and George, all singing at the tops of their voices and sprinkling little bits of confetti everywhere.

"For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fe-l-oooooow.... and so say all of us!" They rounded this off with a cheer, clapping and laughing, as Harry grinned.

Ron groaned and buried his face further into the pillow. Draco got off the floor shakily, his hair sticking up in all sorts of angles, whilst everybody was covered in armfuls of glittering confetti. Harry couldn't help but grin as Tonks plonked a party hat on his head, and the three minstrels burst into applause.

"You maniacs," Ron groaned, groggily, looking up from his pillow with bleary eyes. "It's only just gone past eight o' clock in the morning..."

"Which means dear Master Potter has been seventeen for eight hours, and yet no partying?" Fred demanded of his younger brother.

"We'll have to rectify that, I think," said George, grinning. "Especially as Fred and I have taken time out of our busy schedule to come and visit."

"Come on, you two," said Tonks, bouncing over to Ron and Draco. "Up! There's no time for sleeping in now!" She poked them both in the backs of the heads, and received simultaneous groans, both sleepy boys trying to swat her away. "Up!" she trilled.

"Nnh!" said Ron, irritably, throwing his pillow at her.

At that moment, the door opened again, and the oldest Weasley boy, Bill, came in. He looked down at them all bemusedly, draped in a scarlet dressing gown that made him look even more tanned than usual. "What's going on here?" he asked, blinking at the confetti fluttering around.

"My stupid cousin and your stupid brothers are trying to reanimate the dead by the sound of it," Draco groaned from under a fistful of cover.

Tonks gave Draco a playful shove, and there was an indistinct moan of annoyance from under the bulge of blankets. She chortled. At first, there had been some awkwardness between Tonks and Draco. They were cousins, linked by their mothers, but they had never met and had lived very different lives indeed. Though now they had settled in, Tonks was perfectly delighted to have a new cousin to tease, and even though Draco found her incessantly irritating, he liked her really.

Ron had finally staggered out of the warmth of his bed, and after fumbling around under his mattress for a few moments, he pulled out a present wrapped in gold and handed it to Harry with a sleepy smile. "Happy birthday, mate."

Harry grinned. "Thanks!" he said, eagerly, as he took the box from Ron and started pulling at the paper. Ron sat on the end of his bed to watch, and out from the gold wrapping fell a brightly-coloured package. According to the label, it was "An Assorted TrixBox from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes".

"Prototype," said Ron, with a bleary smile. "It's got all your typical joke stuff... fart draft, instant pimpling potions, some fake spiders... I think there's a fake tongue stud in there which is pretty cool."

"And another prototype for you, Harry," said Fred, throwing Harry a lumpy parcel from behind his back.

"First one ever made," said George.

"Completely exclusive," said Fred.

Harry caught it, and pulled open the packaging eagerly. When he saw what it was, he couldn't help but laugh. It was a t-shirt, emblazoned with a large moving picture of Snape, wrapped in a fluffy green towel and apparently waxing his legs.

"Getting In Touch With His Feminine Side Snape T-Shirt," both the twins grinned at once.

"It comes with several different towel colours," said Fred, idly. "Pretty pink, lime green, or baby-blue. We thought the green version would bring out your eyes more."

George sniggered and handed Harry another parcel. "Don't eat them all at once."

Harry pulled off the paper and revealed a large bag of fruit gums. "Hey, I didn't know you guys did normal safe sweets," he said, and then turning it over, he smiled. "Ah. WARNING - the makers are not responsible for any mutations, mutilations, explosions, accidents, injuries, amputations, losses and sudden disappearances."

Fred and George both grinned at the same time. "Can you blame us?" said Fred.

"What is the meaning of all this noise?" a voice hissed from the door. They all whipped around, and standing in the door, swathed in a black dressing robe that was more like a Halloween costume, was Severus Snape. Before this summer, Harry had thought they couldn't possibly be a scarier side to Snape than when he was teaching Potions first thing on a Monday morning, but he had been wrong. That had all been before he'd ever laid eyes on a Severus Snape, sleep deprived, having been just woken up by noisy teenagers in the room next door.

"It's Harry's birthday," said Tonks, grinning, clapping him on the shoulder and sprinkling a handful of confetti into the air around him.

Harry, realising he was still holding up the Feminine Snape t-shirt, dropped it quickly and tried to hide his grin a little. Snape glared at him from behind his greasy, ruffled black curtains of hair. "Mm," the Potions master droned, unconvinced.

"Would you like a party hat, Professor Snape?" asked Fred, offering Snape one with a fluffy pink bauble on the top.

Snape gave him a look of utter loathing, and then turned, sweeping out of the room in a flurry of black dressing gown. They all smiled. Fred and George took every possible opportunity to antagonise Snape to his absolute limit, and it had to be said, they were doing a marvellous job so far. Even though the Weasley twins weren't technically staying at Grimmauld Place, as they now had a flat in London somewhere, they still seemed to think that Snape was imposing upon their territory. As a result, Snape spent a great deal of time in his attic room at Grimmauld Place, apparently reading or playing chess. Harry wasn't going to admit it to Fred and George, but he'd actually joined the Potions master once or twice. He'd been beaten mercilessly both times - which was another thing he would never admit to Fred and George.

The door opened, yet again, and Lupin and Mr Weasley came in, rubbing their eyes and looking exhausted. "Now really," said Mr Weasley, sleepily. "What is all this noise about so early in the morning?"

"Harry's birthday!" said Fred, merrily. He leant up and balanced party hats on both their heads. "We thought we'd start the festivities early!"

"Harry got a new t-shirt," said Ron, grinning widely.

"Oh?" said Mr Weasley. "Who from?"

"Us," said Fred and George at once.

Mr Weasley looked at them worriedly for a moment. "And what exactly was on this t-shirt?"

Harry grinned and held it up to show Mr Weasley and Lupin. They both took a moment to register it, and when they did, small smiles crossed both faces. Lupin's soft brown eyes twinkled as they met Harry's gaze. "How... unfair to Severus," he said, mildly.

"So what size can we order one for you in?" asked Fred, grinning.

Lupin chuckled quietly. "I do have to work with him, Fred, and I'd rather be alive for the start of the new term, if you don't mind."

Mr Weasley held open the door for them all. "Well, seeing as though everybody's awake, we might as well go downstairs... Molly's making pancakes I think."

Fred and George skipped out of the room, bursting into song again, followed by a very energetic Tonks who knocked over an umbrella stand on her way out. Harry pulled on his dressing gown, and he, Ron and Draco, then made their way down to the kitchen. Draco was mumbling something reluctant about his hair looking a state, but Ron said, brusquely, "Oh, your hair always looks a state, shut up and stop moaning, Malfoy."

When Harry entered the kitchen along with everybody else, Mrs Weasley hurried over from the oven and gave him a huge, affectionate hug. He grinned and hugged back.

"Happy birthday, Harry dear," she said, fondly, as she smoothed his hair back for him. "I've got pancakes and waffles for everybody. Grab a chair and sit down, we've got to give Harry his presents!" She bustled back over to the oven to check on the breakfast, as they all sunk down into chairs around the kitchen table. Snape was already sitting in his usual place by the window, sipping coffee through pursed lips. He was not a morning person.

Mr Weasley came into the room then, holding two or three parcels wrapped in brightly-coloured paper, a big smile on his face as he sat down in the only available space at the table. "Happy birthday, Harry," he said, reaching across to ruffle Harry's hair.

Harry grinned widely. Mrs Weasley came over and started setting down the plates of pancakes in front of people, trying to fit plates, presents and Mr Weasley's paper all onto the table without knocking anything over. Ginny said, "Excellent!", and reached out for her plate, but Mrs Weasley pushed it out of reach.

"Not yet," she said, smiling. "Harry hasn't opened his presents yet."

Grinning from ear to ear, Harry picked up one of the parcels, and started to open them, feeling as though he was going to burst with happiness. From Mr and Mrs Weasley, there was a huge red jumper with a big 'H' knitted onto the front, and a box of best Honeydukes chocolate; from Ginny, there was a novelty Snitch that made odd sound effects when bounced; from Bill, he had an interesting book about ancient Egyptian dark arts; Draco, who didn't have much money, had whittled him a little model of a dragon; from Tonks, he received a large bottle of Madam Madmop's Magical Hair-Dye, in rainbow colour; and from Lupin, he was given a St Christopher Pendant.

"Your father and Sirius gave that to me on my own seventeenth birthday," said Lupin, with a smile, as Harry ran his fingers over the silver. "I know they'd want you to have it."

The door opened, and Mr Weasley came in, carrying a newspaper and a bag under his arm. "My my, it's getting warm out there... such a shame post can't be delivered directly to the house. I'm not complaining about the walk of course, it's certainly good to stretch my legs... now then... some parcels came along with the paper, and I believe they might be yours, Harry." He smiled, and put the bag down in front of Harry.

Harry looked in the bag interestedly, and saw five parcels, all with letters and cards attached. Curiously, he reached in, and picked up the largest. It weighed nearly as much as a stone slab, and judging by the neat handwriting on the envelope, it was from his other best friend, Hermione Granger.

"Bet you it's a book," said George, smirking.

It was. When Harry pulled back the brown paper, he came across the glossy bronze title, "So You're Taking Your NEWTs?", and a large picture of an owl in a pointed hat.

Fred spluttered into his hot chocolate. "She's sent you a book about NEWTs, already? It's only the start of the year, you've got ages before your NEWTs!"

"I think it's a very thoughtful gift," said Ron, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, you would," said Fred. He mimed kissing an invisible person. "Oh, darling Hermione, let me copy your Potions homework..."

"I don't do Potions," said Ron, sniffily.

"Luckily," said Snape, icily, from the corner by the window. They all jumped. As usual, everybody had quite forgotten he was there at all.

Harry opened the letter along with Hermione's gift, and read it aloud to everybody, as Mr Weasley interestedly picked up the NEWTs book and read through it. "Dear Harry and everybody else - I hope you're all having a good time at Grimmauld Place, and that you're enjoying your birthday, Harry. I thought that this book would come in handy for your classes this year, though it's quite interesting to read, I got one myself. Hope to see you soon, love from Hermione."

"Quite interesting?" Fred repeated, as he took the book from his dad. He flicked through it. "Hmm, four-hundred pages about revision techniques! Wow, crazy!"

Harry was starting on the next parcel, another box-shaped one that was rustling slightly as he tore at the paper. Ron leaned over his shoulder interestedly to see what it was, and when it fell out into Harry's lap, he gave a gasp. "Oh, cool! He's got you a fuzzy fungus kit!"

"What's a fuzzy fungus kit?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow.

Harry held up the box and started to read the instructions on the back to the rest of the room. "The amazing make-your-own fuzzy fungus kit. Just put one of the seeds into the plant pot provided, sprinkle with the coloured powder of your choice, fill the plant pot with water and within a week your new fuzzy fungus will have grown. Please note, fuzzy fungus is not edible." The front of the box was covered in pictures of little animals, that looked more like large mushrooms with arms, legs, and hugely cute eyes, in various pastel colours.

"They're really cool," said Ron, enthusiastically. "They're like little pets you grow yourself, but they're technically plants."

"Oh, it's those?" said Bill. He leant over Harry's shoulder interestedly. "I took Herbology at NEWT level, we did fuzzy fungi in our sixth year. They're certainly interesting, though you have to be careful what you feed them or they might turn nasty on you... should be a fun project."

Ron took the note from the back of the box, and read. "Dear Harry, happy birthday! I hope you like your gift. I didn't know what to get you at first, but then I saw these on sale in Diagon Alley, and I thought I'd get you one. Bye! From Neville."

Smiling slightly, Harry put the box on the chair next to him along with his other presents, and then reached into the back, pulling out an oddly lumpy parcel with a note spellotaped to the back. He read the note out first. "Dear Harry. Hopefully these will bring the world around you into clearer prospective. From Luna L." Curiously, he tugged open the paper, to reveal a pair of what looked like muggle swimming goggles.

"What on earth has she sent you goggles for?" said Ginny, curiously.

Harry looked at the label attached. "It says that they're RealWorld Glasses. They show the world as it really is, and can even give hints to where invisible people are."

"Cool!" said Ron, eagerly. "Put them on, have a look! Is there anybody invisible in here now?"

Harry carefully pulled the goggles over his head, and blinked a few times as the greenish blur around him came steadily into focus. Everything was upside down, and anything that posed a danger seemed to be glowing a painful sort of red. "No invisible people, but you're all upside down." Draco sighed, reached across the table, took the glasses off Harry and turned them the other way up. Harry blinked. "Ah, you're all the right way up now... no invisible people though."

"Shame," said Ron, as he nosed into the bag, taking out the last two parcels. "Who are these from?" he said, frowning.

Harry took off the goggles, and checked the packages. One was wrapped rather clumsily in rough brown paper, and on the front was written, "To Harry, hope you have a great birthday, from Hagrid." He tugged at the paper a few times, and after a moment of struggling (Hagrid had used an awful lot of spellotape), Harry managed to open the present.

It looked like a wooden muggle toy, in the shape of a bird. Harry could remember a trip to some boring old museum when he was about seven, and Uncle Vernon had gone on and on for hours about a glass exhibit full of toys like this. He turned the bird over, and saw that its tail was a whistle. Curiously, he blew down it.

The lump in Ron's top pocket quivered a little, and a green head wearing an acorn hat poked out of the top. Sneezy the opsittop had been staying at Grimmauld Place along with Ron and Harry, as their Care Of Magical Creatures homework for the summer. As they watched, Sneezy carefully pattered onto the table and scurried across to stare at the wooden bird in absolutely fascination. After a moment, he started to whistle in just the same way as he bobbed up and down on the balls of his little feet.

Harry smiled, and put down the whistle. Sneezy beamed up and him and started to applaud. Everybody laughed as Sneezy then pottered off, whistling merrily to himself and clambering back into Ron's top pocket.

"A forest whistle," said Bill, smiling and taking the whistle to study. "Charlie showed me one he had a few months ago, for calling bowtruckles. The sound changes every time you use it... watch." He lifted the whistle carefully to his lips, and gave a few soft piping blows, the sound of a cuckoo. Sneezy's head popped out of Ron's pocket again, listening avidly to Bill.

Harry grinned as Bill started teaching Sneezy how to cuckoo, and then turned to his last present. Everybody else was watching Sneezy's attempts at the call ("Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo!") and so nobody caught the look of confusion when he realised there wasn't a label.

Curious, he eased the shiny red paper off. A bottle fell into his hands. It was heart-shaped, and full of a glittering pink liquid that shimmered as it caught the light. Harry carefully uncorked it with a quiet pop, and took a few timid sniffs. It smelt like roses, strawberries, winter mornings and something else, something warm and comforting that Harry knew he had smelt before but couldn't put his finger on.

Snape, who wasn't exactly an animal lover, had been watching him from across the room. He stood up and came over, taking the chair next to Harry. "Who sent you that, Potter?" he asked.

Harry handed him the potion with a shrug. "I don't know... there wasn't a label."

Snape uncorked it carefully, and holding it as though it would explode, he smelt it tentatively. He raised his eyebrows. "A love potion. How... thoughtful."

"A love potion?" said Harry, with wide eyes. "Why would somebody send me a love potion? And who?"

"Smell it again," said Snape, "and carefully... try not to get any on your lips. It should smell faintly of the person who sent it."

Carefully, Harry took the bottle and sniffed a few more times. He couldn't match a face to that hidden smell at all, though it seemed very out of place in the rest of the bottle. It was almost musky, but sharp, like leather.

"Leather," said Harry, frowning curiously. "It smells a bit like leather."

"Do you know anybody with strong connections to leather?" asked Snape, raising an eyebrow.

Harry stared at him, and then a smirk curled his lips. "Your half-sister wears leather boots, doesn't she?" he said, slyly.

Snape's face worked. Harry knew that expression very well. It was the look which said all too plainly that Snape was torn between smiling and throttling Harry to within an inch of my life. "My half-sister couldn't brew a love potion to save her life, Potter, and if she could, I'm rather sure she would not be sending it to you."

Harry chuckled, and put the bottle down, studying it for a moment, before Draco turned away from the opsittop crowd. He leant forward to examine the bottle interestedly. "You've got a love potion," he said, blankly.

Snape raised one thin eyebrow. "So quick to realise what it is, Malfoy?"

"I happen to know what a love potion looks like," Draco said, coolly. "I hope, Professor, you aren't suggesting that I may have used one at some time... after all, I would hardly need one, being the ravishing handsome half-breed that I am."

"You're not a half-breed," said Harry. "Just a quarter-breed."

"Indeed," said Draco, vaguely, still studying the potion. He uncorked it, and leant forward to have a sniff. He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then smiled. "How thoughtful of her."

"Do you know who it is?" said Harry, eagerly, sitting up in his seat.

Draco gave him a contemptuous little smile. "You mean you don't, Potter?"

"Tell me!" Harry pleaded.

"Can't you think of anybody in the world who would send you a love potion?" said Draco, raising his eyebrows, apparently relishing the role of know-it-all. "Somebody who clearly cares for you a lot, but prefers to make her affections simple... with a strong connection to leather. Not necessarily clothing... a sport, perhaps?"

Harry thought for a few minutes, and then realised. "Kainda! She sent - ... hang on... how did you know my girlfriend smells of leather?" he said, suspiciously.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Now there's something you're probably never going to say again."

Harry grinned, and took back the love potion. He took another sniff, a proper one, and there was no mistaking that scent of leather and the outdoors, mixed with something soft and caring. He glanced at Snape after a moment, and said, "What will happen if I drink this?"

"You'll fall in love with whoever sent it," he said, idly.

"But what if I'm already...?"

"It will act as a memory boost of that love," said Snape, and he was smirking at Harry. "At last, the great Harry Potter has fallen in love. I'm not going to have to endure "the talk" with you, am I? I don't think I could stomach it."

"Me neither," said Harry, smiling. He lifted the bottle carefully to his lips, and took the merest hint of a sip, then put it down. For a moment, nothing happened, until a swelling feeling suddenly blossomed in his chest and he found himself grinning. It was the oddest sensation, just like those few moments after a first kiss.

Smiling, he went to drink some more, but Snape pulled it out of his hands and recorked it. "Love potions are notoriously dangerous," the Potions master said, in a tone that suggested he'd caught Harry playing with matches. "There is a documented case of a wizard who drunk a whole cupful at once. He promptly committed suicide, claiming that such love was too great for life to ever contain."

Harry smiling a little. "Okay, I'll be careful."

Everybody was done with the opsittop, and were all sitting back down again, tucking into breakfast at last. Harry put the love potion under the table. As much as he loved and cherished the Weasleys, he didn't want them to all be studying the love potion and asking questions. He thought that Fred and George would probably start doing "Harry Potter gets a love potion" t-shirts if they found out.

"So what are we doing today?" Ginny asked, ladling syrup onto her pancakes.

"Just the usual," Mrs Weasley sighed. "I might take you, Harry, Draco and Ron out for a walk later... you're all getting far too excitable cooped up inside. There's a muggle shopping centre not far from here... I suppose we could go and have a look round. We'd all have to come with you, of course, to protect you, but I daresay you'd all like a chance to stretch your legs."

There was a great chatter of approval, and Ron started talking about a muggle coin he had found a few days ago, asking Harry what he could buy for two pence, but Mrs Weasley called over them all.

"Yes, yes, I know you're all excited, but eat your breakfast and then we'll think about going out!"

They all started eating again, and Ron was still talking excitedly about going for a walk at last. Harry watched them all for a moment, happy as a family, talking and joking with each other, and he couldn't help but grin.

Draco had noticed the look on his face. "What are you smiling about?" he asked.

"It's my birthday," Harry replied. It was the first time he'd ever said that, and smiled at the same time. It was a marvellous feeling.

Chapter Two: Crocodile Smile

After breakfast, Harry, Ron, Ginny and Draco all went clattering up the stairs to their bedrooms, excited about the prospect of a walk. After all, it had been two long weeks since they'd been allowed outside for the opportunity to stretch their legs.

Ron was talking animatedly as he started getting dressed, pulling on his cloaks as though he really did not care whether they were on properly or not. Draco, as usual, was in the bathroom getting changed. His excuse was that he needed to comb his hair and this required privacy and concentration, but Harry had doubts. He was almost certain than Draco changed alone because he didn't want Ron and Harry to see his dark mark. It was still black, and Harry had walked in on him daubing blood from it once. Draco had gone scarlet and barricaded himself in the bathroom for an hour after that.

Harry got dressed fairly quickly in jeans and his new jumper, with the Snape t-shirt underneath, and then he opened up his fuzzy fungus kit as he sat back on Ron's bed. Ron was still staggering around trying to get a sweater that was two sizes too small over his head.

"So these fuzzy things," said Harry, glancing over his shoulder at Ron. "They're actually going to be alive."

Ron nodded. "They're like pets. They're really cute, I remember when Bill got to bring his home."

Harry took the plant pot out of the box, and set it on the bedside cabinet, looking through the rest of the box for one of the seeds. He had three, in a little packet, each about the size of a brazil nut, and so he chose the biggest, dropping it into the plant pot and starting to choose what colour powder he wanted.

As he selected the green, the bathroom door opened and Draco came out, tying his hair back in a ponytail as he did. It really was getting long now - Draco looked more and more like his father with every day that went by.

"Oh, are you trying those furry things?" he said, idly.

"Fuzzy fungus," Harry corrected, sprinkling the powder in. "Yeah... it might be a friend for Sneezy, if it works. He's getting bored and could do with somebody his own size to talk to."

"You can do all sorts of things with those," said Draco, vaguely, twiddling with a lock of his hair. "Mixing powders and putting different potions in... the effects are quite gruesome, really. You wouldn't believe the sort of things people have discovered by experimenting."

"I don't want to know," said Harry, grimly. He fetched a cup of water from the bathroom, and poured it in with the seed and the green powder. "There. Now we wait a few days and it should emerge."

Ron peered over Harry's shoulder at the gloopy mess in the plant pot. "What if it mutates or something? And takes control of the house."

"Then we get some weed killer," said Draco, dryly. "Problem sorted."

"Boys!" Mrs Weasley called from downstairs. "We're going soon, come on!"

They all grabbed their backpacks, and made their way out of the room onto the dark landing. Grimmauld Place looked very much the same as Harry remembered it - dark, gloomy, and very grim. But luckily, they were going to be decorating soon. Fred and George had donated some of their SuperSplatterDecorator 2003s, so with any luck, it would be a lot brighter soon.

"Potter," said a voice from the corridor to their left. "I need to see you for a moment."

Harry looked around, and saw Snape watching him from the door of his room. Ron gave him a worried look, but Harry frowned at him, and then headed down the corridor to Snape. The professor held open his door, and after a moment's hesitation, Harry stepped inside. Snape's room had already been decorated, by Snape himself, and everything seemed to be even darker than normal. The windows had been removed completely, replaced by candles, and the floor had been stripped right down to stone. Apparently, Snape was feeling homesick and missed his cold stone dungeon.

Harry turned his eyes from the decoration onto Snape, who was sinking into an old moth-eaten armchair by the fire, and indicating to Harry to sit down. Nervously, Harry sat on the edge of his seat. He always felt like a stranger in Snape's room, even if Snape had invited him in.

"I just received an owl from the headmaster," Snape drawled, lazily. There was a curling piece of paper on the arm of his chair, and Harry recognised the handwriting as Dumbledore's. "Yet again, the plan for our lessons is to change..."

Harry couldn't really think of anything to ask or say just at this moment, and so sat still in his chair, staring between Snape and the letter.

Snape sat back and studied him over steepled fingertips. "Now that you've learnt as much occlumency and legilimency that you need to survive, the headmaster wishes for you to progress onto something far more useful... and more dangerous."

Harry's eyes widened a little. "What?" he said, in hushed tones.

"Various things," Snape explained, absent-mindedly reading through the letter again. "Mind control... memory subtraction, memory addition... even, though I highly disapprove of this, physical manipulation using the mind."

Harry was staring at him in near horror. "Physical what, excuse me?"

"Physical manipulation using the mind," said Snape, frowning slightly. "Turning the human body into a controlled puppet, by stimulating different areas of the brain."

"Like... making somebody touch their nose?" said Harry. "Isn't there just the Imperius curse for that?"

Snape shook his head. "The imperius curse can only stretch so far. Touching one's nose, yes, but spontaneous combustion, no. Physical manipulation using the mind can achieve things that - "

"Spontaneous combustion?" Harry repeated, in horror. "You've going to teach me how to make people explode?"

Snape frowned at being interrupted, and continued as though he had not heard Harry. "Physical manipulation can achieve things that the imperius curse cannot. It is, however, highly dangerous and can go most terribly wrong. I would much rather not go through this with you, but I must. The headmaster thinks it is time to begin training you for your ultimate challenge."

"Killing Voldemort," said Harry, quietly.

Snape nodded. "Curses will only ever take you so far... if you are to destroy the Dark Lord, you need more skills at your disposal."

Harry felt rather worried now. He was going to be learning how to manipulate somebody's mind? He didn't know how comfortable he would be with Snape poking about in his brain.

Snape seemed to pick up on his hesitation, and with a hint of a smile, he said, "We will start with simple things... and I do pride myself in being skilled with matters to do with the mind."

"Can't they just give me a gun and teach me how to shoot?" said Harry, hopefully. "I could get rid of Voldemort that way."

"Muggle gun wounds," Snape said, haughtily, "are one of the easiest wounds to treat by magic. We could just as well equip you with a sharp stick."

"A sharp stick sounds good," said Harry, a smile playing at his lips.

"Speaking of which..." Snape stood up, and crossed the room to a large chest of drawers made of dark wood. He started searching through the various compartments, found what he was looking for, and walked back to his chair, handing it to Harry as he sat down.

Harry blinked. "For me?"

"No, I just want you to sit there and hold it for a while, for no reason at all."

Harry smiled at the rich sarcasm in Snape's voice, and studied the box Snape had handed him. It was thin and rectangular, coated in black velvet with silver studs all around the edges. "What is it?"

"Something I believe will be of practical value... and something I want you to have."

Curious now, Harry slid his fingernails along the edge of the box, working underneath and then prizing it open gently. What he saw inside made his jaw fall.

There was a cold chuckle from Snape at the expression on his face. "Surprise."

Harry reached into the box, pulled back the leather covering it, and lifted it out, staring in both horror and awe at Snape's idea of something practical. "It's... very lethal."

It was a dagger, with a very thin and narrow blade that was almost just a spike. The handle was solid silver, and glittering with many blood red rubies encrusted into the metal work. Harry wasn't surprised Snape hadn't given him it at the breakfast table. Mrs Weasley would have strangled him.

"It has been in my family for generations," said Snape, quietly, leaning forward to turn it over and show Harry the word 'Snape' engraved into the handle. "Though I no longer have any use for it, and it is about time you were armed."

"What on earth did you use it for before now?" said Harry, staring at him.

Snape raised one eyebrow, and said in a hushed, dangerous voice, "Perhaps when you are older and more worthy, I shall tell you just that, along with the dagger's story. For now, keep it with you... just in case. If you can reach your wand, then by all means, use that, though if you can't, this dagger can cause a nice amount of damage to an attacker."

"You sound more and more like Mad-Eye Moody everyday," said Harry, a smile of disbelief starting to curl his lips. Carefully as he could, he placed the dagger back in its box, and snapped it shut. "Where am I going to keep it? In my pocket?"

"Keep the leather over it at all times, and just fasten it to your arm under your sleeve," said Snape, idly. "I don't think I need to tell you to mention this to nobody, Potter..."

Harry smiled weakly. "If Mrs Weasley finds out that you've given me a knife..."

Snape made an odd, twisted grimace. "Mm, indeed. Then she won't find out, will she, Potter?"

"I hope not," said Harry. He opened up his backpack, and slid the knife inside in its box, severely hoping he wouldn't have to use it anytime in the near future. "Are you coming on the walk with us?" he asked Snape.

"No," was the reply, and Snape looked very pleased at this. "I persuaded Lupin to take my place instead. I have Wolfsbane to brew by tomorrow or you will all be eaten in your beds."

"Thanks for that extra little detail."

"My pleasure." Snape stood up, and lead Harry to the door, holding it open. "Try to burn some energy. Merlin knows you have too much."

Harry smiled slightly. "Yes, Sir."

Snape smirked, and shut the door. Harry made his way down the corridor to the stairs, and then into the hallway. Everybody was ready by the front door, standing clear of a large circle chalked on the floor. Harry knew that the circle indicated the Mrs Black Danger Zone; any noise made within the boundaries was sure to wake up the portrait of Sirius's mother, and she was nearly as crabby after waking up as Snape.

"Right then," said Lupin, who was standing by the door, smiling down at them all. "Everybody ready? Bill, Molly, Tonks and I will be with you, so we'd better pair up teenagers with adults, just in case we're separated... Harry, you come with me. Ron, you can go with your mother, Tonks, I'm sure you can look after Ginny. Draco, you'll be with Bill. Everybody happy?"

They all nodded, and he opened the door, leading them all out into the street. Harry stepped out into the warm summer's air, and took a deep breath, feeling clean and fresh oxygen surge into his lungs. It was wonderful to be outside again after being cooped up indoors for so long. The sun seemed to smile down at them all as they made their way out of the dirty, cold square and towards the shopping centre.

Mrs Weasley was arguing with Ron about the state of his hair "That horrid white stripe, Ron... honestly, it looked so much better without"), Ginny and Tonks were chatting enthusiastically about an upcoming Quidditch match, and Draco was asking Bill a lot of questions about archaeology. Draco had seemed very interested in Bill from the moment he had seen Snape greeted Bill quite pleasantly, and had taken to asking him lots of questions about Egypt at meal times.

"And what about the curses in this pyramid?" he was now asking, curiously, walking alongside Bill.

"Well, there were a lot of your usual curses," Bill explained. "One of the most common is one that only comes into effect when the tomb is first opened, and usually effects the first people in there. Luckily, muggles have opened up most of the tombs with this in, so we don't need to worry about that."

"And what happened to these muggles?" said Draco, so interested in what Bill was saying that he nearly walked into a lamp-post, dodging at the last moment.

"Terrible luck, mostly," said Bill. "The Egyptians made the most spectacular curses, very hard to break if you don't have a lot of practice."

"How did you get this practice?" asked Draco, raising an eyebrow.

Bill smiled down at him. "Lots of training and working hard in my NEWTs."

"Which NEWTs did you take?"

"Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, Runes and History of Magic."

"Hmm... I didn't take Charms, Herbology or History of Magic. I'm doing Pure Arts and Astronomy."

"Astronomy can be helpful," said Bill. "But you might want to take a course on History of Magic before you start trying to get into curse-breaking for Gringotts. If you didn't get really high marks in your NEWTs, you might have to do some working in the bank first, and that needs Arithmancy."

"You also need to be uglier than the goblins, so they don't get jealous," Ron interrupted.

"Yes," said Draco, lazily. "I think that could be a problem." He chuckled airily. "What am I saying, 'could'?"

Ron gave him a look of utter disgust. "You really do need to open your eyes and buy a mirror someday, you know. You'd learn a lot."

Draco smiled sweetly. "If you can lend me the money to do so, Weasley, I'd be delighted to."

And with that, he flounced off after Bill to ask some more questions, leaving Ron standing next to Harry looking rather confused. Harry raised his eyebrows at the look on Ron's face, and Ron said, blankly, "I can't work out who he was insulting then."

"Maybe it's better to not try," said Harry with a smile.

"I'm never ever going to forgive you for letting him stay with us," said Ron, grumpily, as they crossed the road towards an alleyway shortcut.

"It's my house," said Harry. "And whoever I like can stay there."

"Well," said Ron, shrugging. "I suppose so. But I'm drawing the line if Crabbe and Goyle ever come back. No way, Harry. The smell will kill us all."

Harry chuckled, and they hurried up after Lupin to dip down the alleyway. A few minutes later, they found themselves walking through the double doors of the muggle shopping centre, and Ron gasped, blinking. "Look at all the colours! This is way too busy... how do muggles cope? Eurgh, luminous pink, look at that!"

"Muggles are a bit more modern than wizards," said Harry with a slight smile.

"They're a bit more colour blind," said Ron, wrinkling his nose as they passed a large display of orange and blue tracksuits outside a sports shop. "I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those. I swear."

"It's a shame Dad's working today," said Bill. "He'd have loved all this. But knowing Dad, he'd probably have bought two thirds of it and brought it home with him."

Lupin had stopped, and brought them all together in a group. "It looks as though we'll be split up in all this," he said, worriedly. "So we should go into our pairs now, and meet up here in about an hour or so... if there's trouble, we've all got our - well. You all know."

"Know what?" said Ron, interestedly, looking between the adults. "What have you got?"

"None of your business," said Mrs Weasley, promptly. "Come along now, I want to have a look at some more muggle clothes..."

She lead Ron off, ignoring his groans of frustration. Tonks and Ginny went off together towards a jewellery shop, and then Bill and Draco headed away towards a large muggle bookshop near the far doors. Lupin turned to Harry with a smile. "So," he said. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere, really," said Harry, shrugging. "We could just go and have a look around, I guess. You're not used to muggle shops, are you?"

"Not really," Lupin admitted. "Let's go and have a look at the upper floors then..." He turned his eyes onto the escalator, and looked a little worried. "The stairs appear to be broken... we'll have to find some other way, Harry, I don't think that's safe."

Harry smiled, and lead Lupin towards the escalator, stepping onto it. "It just moves up," he explained, as Lupin nervously stepped onto the bottom stair and clung onto the side. "And you get off at the top."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "Oh, it's one of these? Arthur told me something about this yesterday, though I didn't really understand what he was saying... I don't think I quite like this, Harry..." he added, worriedly, watching the people gliding away below. His hands tightened on the moving rail. "No, I definitely don't."

"You get used to them," said Harry, with a slight smile, stepping off at the top and helping Professor Lupin. "Aunt Petunia hates them. She always makes Uncle Vernon and Dudley take the stairs."

"With good reason," said Lupin, casting a nervous glance back at the escalator.

They spent most of their hour just wandering around the various shops, studying the things on sale, and talking a lot about just anything. Harry did have a little muggle money (at the start of the holidays, Mr Weasley had gone to Gringotts and converted some of their money, as they would be living amongst muggles for two months) though he didn't really spend it on much. He and Lupin had a coffee, and he bought a plastic cauldron full of sweets meant for Halloween which he was sure would amuse Mr Weasley, but nothing else, until they were passing a very sophisticated looking jewellery shop. Harry paused.

"Professor? Can we just stop here?" he said.

Lupin turned around, and nodded, coming over to him. "Seen something interesting?"

Harry nodded. His eyes were lingering on a gold necklace hanging in the shop window, with a heart-shaped pendant. He knew that very soon he would be going to see Kainda, and he quite wanted a present for her. Earlier, he'd mulled over the idea of a love potion in reply, but now that he'd seen the necklace...

"I'm just going to buy something," Harry told Lupin, as he headed inside the shop.

A few minutes later, he came back out, with the pendant clutched tight in a bag, his pocket of money considerably lighter. Lupin smiled at him. "Ready?"

He nodded, and was about to follow Lupin towards the escalator again, when something suddenly made him stop. He'd heard an odd noise behind him, like a whisper, and wondering what it was, he turned around to face the shop again. What he saw as a reflection in the window made him jump backwards and nearly knock Lupin to the floor. It was a single face that Harry had seen many times before, though only in his dreams. The structure of a human boy, but with the tan skin of a lion, the eyes of a hawk, and a mouth full of sharp teeth like a crocodile. The boy was smiling, just smiling.

The vision faded as quickly as it had come, taking the strange boy's reflection away. Harry could feel his heart pounding inside him, trying to escape. He had a sickening feeling now lodged in his chest, as though he'd seen that face somewhere before, but didn't know where.

"Harry?" said Lupin, concerned, turning around to see what was the matter.

"I-... I saw, in the window - " Harry gabbled, pointing. "It was a face, it was like a m-monster - "

Lupin frowned slightly. "There's nothing there, Harry, don't worry... it must have just been an odd reflection. Muggle lighting is truly terrible."

"No, no, I saw it," Harry protested, grasping Lupin's arm. "It was like a boy, but... I'm so sure, Professor. I really saw it there."

Lupin patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "There's nothing there now, Harry... come on, we're already late as it is. Stay close, the crowds are getting busier." He started to move away. Harry stayed for one last glance into the window, and for a moment, he thought he saw a shadow pass over the glass, before Lupin called him, and he hurried after the professor, fighting to keep up in the crowds. He couldn't shake off the horrible feeling of being watched, and everytime he passed a shop window, he was careful not to even glance at it - though as they were leaving the shopping centre, and Mrs Weasley was suggesting a picnic outside, he was almost certain he saw a flash of teeth glitter at him from the glass of the sliding doors.

"Are you okay?" said Ron, looking up at Harry over the top of his Quidditch magazine. "You've hardly said a word since coming back from the shopping centre."

"I'm fine," said Harry. He fed Sneezy another peanut with a small sigh. They had got back from their walk a few hours ago now, and Harry still felt paranoid and worried. Though everytime he considered telling somebody, he couldn't think of words for what it was that he was scared about. He'd sat having a picnic, and wondered if Mrs Weasley would help, then he thought of Bill, with a lot of experience in dark creatures. He'd got back home, and Snape had been sitting in the kitchen marking essays. Surely, of all people, he could tell his magical guardian - but something just felt odd. He had no evidence, and Snape wasn't the comforting type.

He looked up at Ron, his best friend, wondering if he could tell him. Then he glanced across to Draco, who was lounging on his bed and drawing something. Draco might know something about weird faces appearing in glass and then vanishing. Was it perhaps a dark magical object? His family had hoarded hundreds of such things. But then Harry realised he just couldn't say, that it would sound far too stupid. He could just imagine Draco's reaction if he said he was seeing faces in glass. Draco might have become tolerable over the last year, but he wasn't ready to admit to that just yet.

"You look all... weird," said Ron, watching him closely.

Harry shrugged. "Just bored, I guess."

Ron nodded and yawned. They could all identify with boredom. Harry now had a hint of how Sirius must have felt two years ago, being forced to stay inside around the clock, with nothing exciting really happening. He had another month left of staying inside, as school had broken up at the start of July, and it was now the end of the month. Harry couldn't really comprehend sitting and watching a seed float about in a plant pot for another month.

The noise of the front door opening met his ears. He heard it shut, and somebody carrying an awful lot of things crept down the hall. A few moments later, and probably a check that whoever it was was clear of the Mrs Black Danger Zone, and Mr Weasley's voice shouted out through the house. "Molly! Children! Come quickly, I've got marvellous news!"

Harry, Ron and Draco got up off their beds, and headed out onto the landing, where they met Ginny and Tonks, peering over the banister. Mr Weasley was beaming up at them from the hall, and to Harry's amazement, he was holding a muggle television under one arm, his briefcase under the other, and perched on his head was a party hat with a large M on it.

"What on earth is that?" said Ron, staring at the television as though it was about to explode.

"I bought it with my pay bonus," said Mr Weasley, grinning up at them all. "I've been promoted!"

Ron and Ginny cheered, tearing across the landing and practically jumping down the stairs to hug their father, asking lots of eager questions, examining the television in amazement. Everybody else joined them, and they proceeded to the kitchen, all sitting down. Mrs Weasley, who had been drying up at the time, put down her cloth and hurried over to embrace her husband.

"Oh, Arthur, at last! Well done!" she said.

He grinned and patted her back, setting down the television on the table top. Draco was watching it with the greatest suspicion and narrowed eyes. "What, exactly, does it do?"

"It's one of those things that muggles use to heat up food, isn't it?" said Ginny, looking up at her father. "Luna was telling me about it... her auntie works with muggles."

"What have you been promoted to, Arthur?" asked Mrs Weasley, turning her eyes onto her husband.

"I am now the official Minister For Inter-Muggle Relations," said Mr Weasley, proudly. "I'm going to be having a lot of contact with muggles, finding out more about them. You-Know-Who has indeed returned, and who knows what might happen? If he starts attacking muggles, the ministry need somebody to cover up the tragedy. And that person will be me." He beamed and laughed. "Cornelius said I might have to have tea with the muggle queen! Me!"

"Oh, that's wonderful Arthur!" said Mrs Weasley, hugging her husband again.

Draco was studying the television closely, running his fingers over the glass screen and wearing a frown. "Mm. I remember something like this from last summer..."

"Where were you?" said Ron, quickly. He had been trying to prize the information of where Draco had spent his last summer out of him for a month now, and was getting nowhere.

"Somewhere," said Draco, in a cool voice.

Perhaps Lupin had noticed the tension rising between the two boys, for next second, he jumped up and said, "Tea, I think... Ron, can you help me? Draco, go and hang up Arthur's coat."

Draco and Ron glared at each other for a moment, then set about their tasks. Harry watched them both for a moment. The back of Ron's neck was rather red, and Draco's left hand was tightening in a fist as he left the room. Luckily, Mr Weasley then sat down to try and get the television working, and the potential fight was averted. Or perhaps just delayed.

Chapter Three: St. Mungo's, Third Floor

Harry woke up on August 1st with a gasp, as usual, feeling the cold sweat on his forehead. As always, most of his dream had been wiped from his memory the moment he woke, but he could remember something now. Staring back into a face with those warped, inhuman features, as it just smiled at him. He didn't know what he found so un-nerving about that smile. It was just something that scared him, like the leering grin of the clown ball he'd come into contact with last year. The thing was that this time, he couldn't just throw away the dreams.

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, and when he glanced at the clock, he realised it was only three in the morning. He sighed. So now he had at least four hours to go until anybody else woke up, and he just knew that he couldn't go back to sleep. The fear of seeing that face again drove all thoughts of slumber from his mind. What exactly was it? Was it a human, half-transfigured into something horrible? Or was it just a monster? He knew that there were various creatures that had a vaguely human appearance - vampires, manticores, mermaids, centaurs - but he'd never seen anything quite like the beast in his dreams before.

He swung his legs quietly out of bed, and stood up, planning to go and get a drink from the bathroom, when he noticed something odd. Draco was lying in the bed across from him, but the white sheets had a strange shadow on them. Harry stared for a few moments, before he realised that it wasn't a shadow, but a dark substance - most likely from Draco's dark mark. Harry made his way across the darkened room, and then reached out, gripping the blonde boy's shoulder.

"Draco," he murmured, shaking gently. "Draco, wake up..."

Draco tensed up, then awoke quite suddenly and jumped backwards at the sight of Harry. He choked, and then relaxed again. "Potter! What are you - " He glanced down, saw the blood leaking the sheets, and made a mangled squeaking sound. He grasped the sheets quickly, held them around his lower back and went tearing for the bathroom, but Harry caught up with him quickly.

"Let me help you!" he hissed.

"Get off me!" Draco snarled, tugging his arm free of Harry and bolting into the bathroom. Harry shot after him and managed to fight his way in. Draco pushed the door shut with a snap, reluctantly, then glared at Harry over his shoulder. "You tell absolutely nobody about this."

"As if I would anyway," said Harry. He sat down on the edge of the bath, took a cloth from the side and started water running in the cold basin.

"Why were you awake anyway?" Draco asked, suspiciously.

"I - " Harry paused, then continued. "I just couldn't sleep, I guess."

Draco frowned. "Mm." He took the wet cloth from the cold basin, wrung out some of the water, and then lifted up the back of his shirt to press it to his mark. He closed his eyes. "How do they live with this?" he muttered.

"The Death Eaters?"

Draco nodded grimly. "I don't know how my father coped. Professor Snape too... well, Father always came when called, so it probably didn't hurt him as much..."

Harry paused for a moment, watching Draco wringing some of the blood away down the sink, before he said, quietly, "He'll come and get you, you know. If you're not responding to his call."

"Don't remind me," said Draco, coldly, as he dipped the cloth into the water again. He started sponging away more of the oozing blood, as he muttered, "Every day is an achievement for me... I thought at first that he might not come after me, as I'm not a particularly skilled Death Eater yet... though of course, he's not likely to release his hold on "Malfoy's son" to Dumbledore." There was a note of bitterness in his voice as he said this.

"They want you because of your dad, don't they?" said Harry, who had never heard Draco speak much about his link to the Death Eaters, and fully wanted to take advantage of the situation.

Draco nodded. "Father was a main member... everybody expects me to want to follow in his footsteps."

"Do you...?"

"Yes, Potter," Draco snapped, sarcastically. "I actually do. Hold on one moment while I go fetch my wand so I can kill you. I know I really should do a big speech about gaining your trust before I hand you over to the Dark Lord, but it's such a cliché, I'll have to pass."

Harry smiled a little. "I've heard that so many times, it wouldn't have much effect on me anyway."

Draco sat down on the edge of the bath next to Harry, still soaking his dark mark. He sighed, then after a moment, he said, "So why don't you tell me why you were really awake?"

Harry looked away. "No real reason."

"Fair enough." Draco cleaned his cloth one last time, wiped the last dark gore from his mark, then opened the door. "We need sleep. I have the feeling we'll be decorating tomorrow."

Harry nodded, and stepped back into the darkness of the bedroom. As they shut the door, the light dimmed again. Draco went to his bed, Harry to his, and for a few moments, there was silence. Then, Harry's voice said, "Draco?"

"What?" came the reply from somewhere in the darkness before him.

"I knew there was a reason that I was friends with you."

"And what would that be?" said Draco, sounding confused.

"You just let things drop."

Draco snickered. "I try not to pressure people for information. I know what having something forced out of you is like, on an extreme level."

Harry rested his head back on his pillow, and pulled up the covers, closing his eyes. Maybe he would sleep after all. It was only a few moments however before there was a glow of light, as somebody lit a candle. Harry opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, frowning. Ron was sitting up in his bed, glaring at them both.

"What was that about, mm?" he said.

"What was what about?" said Draco, lazily, as though Ron really wasn't worth his attention.

"Sneaking off to the bathroom. Cosy little late night chat?" Ron had a very suspicious look on his face.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "What are you accusing us of?"

"What do you think I'm accusing you of?" said Ron, frowning across the room at him.

Draco tutted in his bed, rolled over and pulled the covers up around his neck. "How childish... Weasley, if you're going to confront somebody, next time, make sure you know exactly what you're confronting them about, instead of resorting to immature mockery..."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron bristled.

Draco yawned, widely and obvious, stretching out in bed. Ron glared at him hatefully, then turned back to Harry, looking angry.

"So. What were you two debating in there? And I did hear voices. You can't tell me otherwise."

"Something that you won't believe, accept, understand or deserve to know," said Draco, simply. "Go back to sleep, Weasley, before your tiny little brain explodes from over use."

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Ron snarled. He turned to Harry, completely ignoring Draco. "So what was it all about huh? What's going on behind my back? All the time, you two are muttering to each other and sharing these private jokes. I'm sick of it. What's the big deal?"

"I just had a nightmare," said Harry, quietly, not wanting a fight with Ron. "I was just telling Draco about it, honestly, I - "

"You had a nightmare?" said Draco, completely blowing Harry's only excuse to smithereens.

Ron just glared at them both, suspicion and anger in his face, before he rolled over and pulled the covers right over his head. Harry got out of bed to try and reason with him, and he was considering telling Ron about the dark mark, but when Harry tried to talk to his cousin under the covers, Ron just fiercely ignored him. Finally, after fifteen minutes of being ignored, Harry just left Ron to it, and went back to bed.

Harry eventually drifted to sleep, and when he woke up, it was to find Draco sitting on the end of his bed. He jumped, and was about to ask Draco what on earth he was doing, when the other boy said, hurriedly, "Weasley's in the bathroom. I've turned out your clothes drawer on the floor. Shout at me for it."

"What?" said Harry, absolutely bewildered, and then he said, angrily, "You've turned out my clothes drawer? Why?"

"I'm sorry," Draco whined, his face suddenly covered in guilt, his voice a little louder than normal speaking tones. "It was an accident, I was looking for my jumper and I thought it was in your drawer..."

Harry stared at him. "Draco, what the hell are you playing at?"

"I told you, I'm really sorry, I didn't - "

The door creaked open, and Ron came out. He was pretending not to look at them both, but couldn't hide a glance at the upturned clothes drawer. Harry, finally twigging, turned to Draco and said furiously, "You can pick it up then, as you knocked it out! You stupid clumsy prat!"

Ron looked over his shoulder, and for a moment, he had an interested look on his face. Harry ploughed on, after the merest hint of an encouraging smile from Draco.

"And you can apologise to Ron too, for last night!" he said, angrily. "You're under my roof, Draco, and you'll learn your place!" He suddenly realised just how much like Uncle Vernon he sounded.

Draco turned to Ron, and said, half-heartedly. "Sorry, Weasley."

"Properly!" said Harry.

Draco paused for a moment, with a petulant expression on his face, then he said, again, "Sorry, Weasley."

"That's better," said Harry. "Now... uh... go and make us some tea!" He thought that this was maybe taking it a bit too far, judging by the look on Draco's face, but Ron seemed to swallow it.

"And some biscuits too!" he shouted after Draco, as the startled blonde made his way out of the room. Draco shut the door, and Ron turned to Harry. "There, that showed him," he said, triumphantly, and apparently, being allowed to yell at Malfoy had driven the argument right out of his head.

"Yeah," said Harry, nodding, and pulling on his dressing gown. "Knocking my clothes on the floor. Who does he think he is?"

Ron pulled on his own Chudley Cannons dressing robe, and the two of them headed for the door. Ron pulled it open, and stepped onto the landing. "And that tea had better not be too sweet," he said. "Or I'll give Malfoy what for."

And that was that. Harry and Ron went into the kitchen, their argument completely behind them, and as they sat down at the wooden table, Mrs Weasley put plates of bacon and eggs in front of each of them. "There you are... enjoy."

"Where's my tea?" Ron said, demandingly to Draco, who was sitting across the table eating his own breakfast.

Mrs Weasley said, angrily, "Ron! Don't be so rude!"

"But - "

"Morning all," said Ginny, as she came into the kitchen. "Hey, bacon, great!"

"You all need big breakfasts," said Mrs Weasley, handing Ginny a plate. "We're decorating this place today. Fred and George should be here with the paint soon, so we can start putting out the sheets. Hopefully it won't take too long... of course we do have some people going out later..."

"Again?" said Ron. "Why? Where are we going?"

"You're going nowhere," said Mrs Weasley. She handed him another sausage. "Harry's going to St Mungo's with Professor Snape and Tonks."

"Can't we come?" said Ginny.

"Absolutely not," said Mrs Weasley, stiffly. "Harry won't want you all there annoying him, will you, Harry?"

Harry gave an apologetic look to Ron, Draco and Ginny, and then said, "Sorry... it's the first time I've seen Kainda in ages though... she might not want too many visitors."

"That's okay, mate," said Ron, smiling. "We understand."

"When are going to Diagon Alley to get our school things?" asked Ginny.

"When the letters arrive," said Mrs Weasley. She sat down with a mug of tea, and a bacon sandwich. "Then we can get everything you'll all need at once... it's a shame they haven't come today, or we could get all your things..."

Ginny sighed. "I wish the letters would come... I'm sick of waiting." At the quizzical look from Harry, she said, "I'm getting my OWL results this year."

"How do you think you've done?" he asked, cutting up some of his bacon.

"Okay, I guess," she said, idly. "At least they're out of the way now."

The front door then opened, and a few moments later, Lupin appeared in the kitchen door. He was only carrying a newspaper. Ginny sighed, "Oh well," then left the table and headed back upstairs to get dressed.

Lupin smiled and sat down at the kitchen, taking his breakfast from Mrs Weasley with a grateful, "Thankyou, Molly..."

Harry sat back in his chair, waiting for Ron to finish with the paper. His plate was now empty, and he was desperate for something to do to take his mind off the St Mungo's visit coming later. He knew that there was no need to feel nervous, and it wasn't a worried, frightened sort of nerves he had in his chest. It was more like unbearable excitement. He remembered the last time he had seen Kainda, as she was carried from the hospital wing all that time ago, and he had to admit that he was desperate to see her again.

He took another piece of toast, starting to butter it, and he was about to ask Ron if there was anything interesting in the Daily Prophet, when Ron suddenly gave a strangled sort of gasp, staring at the paper.

"What?" said Harry. "What is it?"

"Uh - " said Ron, obviously doing some quick thinking, "Chudley Cannons lost their latest game. Too bad I guess. Hey, could you do me some toast as well, I still feel a bit - "

Harry's face creased into a frown. "It's about me, isn't it?"

"No," Ron squeaked.

Harry snatched the paper off him, and fearing the worst, he shook it open. A double page spread with a large photograph of his own face greeted him, and across the top was a huge banner headline of, "The Boy Who Loved". It took a few moments to register just what the article was about.

Ron was watching him apprehensively over the top of the paper. "What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to be sick," Harry growled, through gritted teeth.

"Is something wrong, Harry dear?" asked Mrs Weasley, watching him with a concerned expression.

"No," he said, quickly. "No, I'm okay." He smiled. "I'm just a bit full, that's all. I'll go and try to flatten my hair now." He got up from the table, and left, tucking the paper under his arm. There was a clatter as Ron jumped up and followed him, and then another, as Draco came too.

"Who do you think told the Prophet?" said Ron, hurrying to keep up with Harry's pace up the stairs.

Harry had the newspaper open again, and was reading through it, a blind sort of horror settling in his chest now. "I don't know... look at this! "Harry Potter's love life has been tragedy after tragedy, writes Jan Jerrison, gossip correspondent". How did they find out about Kainda? And why today, of all days?"

Draco cleared his throat, and read over Harry's shoulder. "Harry Potter's heartache touched many other students at Hogwarts. Ernie Macmillan, a sixth year Hufflepuff, told the Prophet, "Harry and Kainda were always sneaking off to the Quidditch pitch. Harry was heart-broken when she was poisoned. He didn't want to play Quidditch or anything". However, this is not the first time Harry Potter's heart has been toyed with. In his fourth year, muggle-born Hermione Granger - "

"That's enough," Ron growled.

"Oh, and look there," said Draco, ignoring Ron. "Just at the bottom... they've got an interview with Chang."

"I know," Harry said, with a sigh. He collapsed down onto his bed, and spread the article out. "It's got everything... Ernie and Cho must have told them. Trust the Prophet to squash Blaise Zabini and the Risotta into a quarter of a page, then ramble on about me for the rest of it!"

"Does it say what happened to Zabini?" asked Ron, interestedly peering over Harry's shoulder. "Oh, there we go... he went to Azkaban... youngest prisoner ever. Just two months over the legal age."

Harry sighed again, and rolled back on his bed, covering his face with his hands. "I don't believe this. The one day I'm going to see Kainda, the stupid Prophet publishes some great story about our "timeless love". I bet they're outside St Mungo's now, just waiting for me to turn up... why do I get the feeling Rita Skeeter had something to do with this?"

"At least you'll have something to talk about," said Draco, dryly.

"Maybe if you just don't tell her," Ron suggested. "You know, just... don't let her know. It's not lying. It might stress her if she finds out, and her wounds might go all weird."

Harry was now reading the interview with Cho, with narrowed eyes. He didn't bother to read it properly, and was just skimming, but from what he could tell, she was hinting he "was still in love with somebody else", and that he "didn't seem to care" about her feelings of grief following the death of "beloved boyfriend, Cedric Diggory". He looked up to see both Ron and Draco watching him closely. Ron looked worried. Draco looked serious, which was about as worried as Draco could ever get.

"Well," he said.

They said nothing for a moment, and then Ron said, quietly, "Sorry about this, mate... I really didn't think that - "

"Ohhh, look at this!" said Draco, snatching the paper up and staring at a box on the same page, unable to disguise the glee in his voice. He started to read aloud. "Harry Potter's Love Tangle. If Harry Potter's love life is not complicated enough, the Daily Prophet has unearthed evidence that his ex-girlfriend, muggleborn Hermione Granger, is now dating his best friend, Robert Weasley. After the siege of Hogwarts, in which half of the school's pupils were lost, Granger and Weasley were seen comforting each other. Whether Harry Potter knows about this deception by his best friend or not remains to be seen, but we hope that the wounds of love will heal quickly for Harry Potter."

Harry and Draco both turned to look at Ron following this. Ron had turned a magnificent shade of purple and was just sitting in horror, staring back at them. Draco was grinning from ear to ear, but it looked as though Ron couldn't even sum up the strength to hit him.

Harry took the paper back off Draco, and said, "Hey, but look here... Seventh Year Ogles Professor's Sister's Legs. Draco Malfoy, a seventh year Slytherin at Hogwarts, was accused yesterday of eyeing up the sister of Potions master, Severus Snape. "Malfoy spends half his life staring at Andralyn's legs," said an anonymous student. "Snape's not going to be happy once he finds out."

"WHAT?!" roared Draco, snatching the paper off Harry and scanning it desperately. After a moment, his fists clenched, and he shouted, "POTTER! You liar! There's nothing in there about me!"

Harry and Ron were too busy laughing to care. Draco beat them both with a pillow until they stopped, and feeling a little better, they all went downstairs again.

Snape was sitting at the kitchen table writing a letter, and when the three boys walked in, Ron and Harry swapped grins. Draco hissed, "Oh, don't be so immature."

Tonks stood up from her seat as Harry walked in. "Oh, Harry! Come here... we need to disguise you," she said, as she pulled him over and sat him down.

"Disguise me?" said Harry, staring at her. "Why?"

"Prophet reporters outside St Mungo's," she said, grimly. "The hospital staff won't let them in, but they'll be waiting outside for anybody they can get an interview off. You're the star prize, I'm afraid."

Harry watched her taking tubes and bottles out of a large briefcase open on the kitchen table in front of her. "What exactly are you going to do to me?" he asked, worriedly.

"We considered a polyjuice potion," said Tonks, brightly, as she squeezed some sort of cream out onto her fingers. "But we haven't got any at hand, and we wouldn't want it to wear off when you're in St Mungo's." She started dabbed the cream onto Harry's scar, peering at him with eyes that were today a light brown. "We're going to try and get you in as the son of me and Professor Snape..."

Ron instantly turned his laugh into a hacking cough, as he picked up his tea and buried his face in the paper again.

"What's the cream for?" said Harry.

"It'll just hide your scar a bit," she explained. "Obviously, that's the main thing... we'll give you an improved vision charm, as well. It won't be as good as your glasses, but the less you look like yourself, the better."

She continued to lather him in all sorts of creams, patting powder on him, getting out her wand and casting charms here and there. Harry was amazed when she dyed his hair with just a wave of her wand, turning it into light blonde instantly. Tonks was sporting long blonde hair today, so he supposed he had "inherited" that from her.

"Now, with your eyes," she said, cheerily, getting out a little bottle of something. "We're going to turn them very dark brown, so you've got your dad's."

"You're not going to do anything with my nose, are you?" said Harry, worriedly.

"No, no," she said. "We'll say you got mine. Might have to do something with your lips though. We'll see how you look with black eyes... open them wide." She dripped a few drops of the liquid into his eyes, and he blinked. She smiled as they apparently changed colour. "Lovely. This will all come out later, don't worry... I've got all the removers here with me. Though you do look nice with blonde hair."

"Is he quite ready yet?" Snape sighed, drumming his fingers on his upper arm.

"I suppose he is," she said. "Well, we can go now... come on Harry, get your cloak."

Feeling rather odd, Harry got to his feet, took his cloak from a hook on the wall, and went to wait by the front door. Snape wasn't disguised at all, and just looked his usual greasy self, but Tonks looked almost completely different. She had muggle clothing too, a big fur coat and sandy-coloured leggings. Try as he might, Harry just couldn't imagine Tonks and Snape ever having a son. It was like toast-flavoured ice cream - just not meant to be.

They set off out of the house, walking at a fairly brisk pace towards the centre of muggle London. Harry stuck close between Snape and Tonks. Even though he was disguised, he still felt paranoid. What if somebody recognised him? He desperately didn't want Daily Prophet reporters surrounding him and asking questions about his private life, especially not today. He was also worried that Kainda might not believe he was actually Harry. What if she called security and got him thrown out?

"Harry," said Tonks, next to him. "Are you any good with accents?"

"Uh... a bit," he said, suspicious of where this was going.

"You might need it," she said. "Just in case any reporters ask you a question. Let's see if you're any good at mimicry... Snape, say something."

Snape glared at her. "I hardly think the boy has to have an entirely new personality created for him."

"Go on then," said Tonks. "Try that."

Harry pursed his lips a little, and tried his best to sound like Snape. It was a very strangled Snape, and a little too posh, but Tonks grinned as he did it. "I hardly think the boy has to have an entirely new personality created for him."

"Great!" she said. "That'll do pretty well. Ah..." They had turned a corner, into the street where St Mungo's was located. "I think we're going to need it."

It was simply crawling with reporters. St Mungo's was a protected building, and so muggles didn't know it was anything special. Luckily, it was still fairly early in the morning, and a Sunday, so not many muggles were out and about. A few were though, and they were watching from the doorways of shops, muttering about the odd people in cloaks standing around everywhere.

"Stay close, Harry," Tonks murmured, before striding down the street, putting an arm around her "son's" shoulder. Snape was walking on Harry's other side, and the few reporters who paid them attention didn't want to come much closer because of the look on Snape's face.

"It's not him," somebody called. Harry felt a glow of excitement that nobody recognised him at all. Tonks squeezed his shoulder, as they stepped up to the front of the building. St Mungo's was disguised as an old muggle clothing store, and the only way to get in was to talk to the ugly female dummy in one of the windows. Snape turned with his back to the glass, and muttered out of the corner of his mouth to the dummy, "We wish to see Kainda Zabini."

Harry watched as the dummy gave the merest hint of a nod, and its chipped eyeballs rolled from side to side down the street. When sure that no muggles were watching, it beckoned them through, and the three of them stepped forward into St Mungo's. Harry couldn't help but glance back at the Prophet reporters standing outside, and grin.

The waiting room was just as Harry remembered it, from his last visit to St Mungo's, when he came to see Mr Weasley. Witches and wizards with various ailments were sitting around on rickety wooden chairs, reading copies of Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet from two months ago, and healers in bright green robes were walking back and forth with clipboards, taking people's details. Harry knew it was rude to stare, but he couldn't help watch a few people as they got in the queue to find out what ward Kainda was in. One man apparently thought he was a rabbit, and was bouncing around the room persued by his frantic wife and a healer with a carrot. A large blonde woman was sitting reading a copy of Witch Weekly around a nose the size of a large orange that was throbbing green, and at the front of the queue was a man who seemed to be singing his problem to the Welcome Witch, in the tune of "I've Got A Lovely Bunch Of Coconuts".

"I've got a bit of a problem with my arm, dee dee dee - " he began, but he was cut off as his own hand slapped him around the face. "Ow! It keeps on a-slapping me round the face, dee d-"

"Spell Damage," said the Welcome Witch. "Fourth floor. Next!"

He danced away down the corridor, and a man supporting a teenage girl with bright blue hair came forward. He looked very exhausted, and apparently, he had dragged her from a long way. "Quidditch accident," he panted. "We were just playing a game in our meadow, and then - "

"Artefact Accident," announced the Welcome Witch. "Take a seat please. Next!"

The person in front of Harry, Tonks and Snape shuffled forward. He didn't seem to have anything wrong with him, and he leant up to the witch at the desk, beckoning for her to come closer. She leant in, and listened to his whispered problem, then said, "Spell Damage, fourth floor. Watch you don't get it caught in the doors." The man blushed scarlet, and shuffled off. As he went, Harry saw a long stripey tail poking from under his long coat.

"Yes?" said the Welcome Witch, as Harry, Tonks and Snape stepped forward.

"We're here to see Kainda Zabini," said Tonks, brightly. "We wondered if you could tell us what ward she's in."

The Welcome Witch got out a long list from under the desk, scanned down it, and said, "She's got a room to herself on the third floor, Potion and Plant Poisoning. It's number 18, the healers there'll show you which way. She's just come out of the major treatment ward though, so it's family and friends only. What's your relationship with the patient?"

Tonks smiled, and murmured to the Welcome Witch, "Do you read the papers?"

The Welcome Witch frowned. "I do."

"This is Harry Potter," said Tonks, grinning and looking down at Harry. "We had to get him past the reporters, so we disguised him a bit." To prove it, she reached down and pulled his fringe back, showing the Welcome Witch the hints of a scar trailing into his hair.

The Welcome Witch smiled warmly down at him. "Oh, we thought we'd be seeing you sometime soon... very well. Third floor, and watch how you go past the Growth Corridor, we've got some nasty plants in this morning. Wouldn't want any accidents."

Harry thanked the witch, and she gave him a beaming smile as he, Tonks and Snape made their way down the corridor towards the stairs. Harry had an odd bubble of happiness inflating inside him now. He practically bounced up the stairs, and even went a floor too far because of his enthusiasm before Tonks called him back, and steered him down the right corridor. "That way," she said. "You know what room it is, 18. Snape and I are going to have a coffee in the tearoom."

"I don't - " Snape began, but she elbowed him in the back and pushed him away up the stairs.

"Get me a nice seat," she chirruped after him, then she leant down, gave Harry a hug and grinned at him. "Go get her, Tiger."

Harry grinned back, then turned and made his way into the third floor corridors alone, checking the room numbers as he went. He passed a large ward, then a huge door leading into a domed room full of plants, the reception desk, and room 18. He turned a corner, and there it was, at the end of the hall, room 18. Feeling as though his legs had turned into eels, he approached the door, lifted his hand, and knocked.

Chapter Four: Sweetness and Scrolls

There was a few moment's pause after Harry knocked on the door of room 18, where he waited, hoping he had the right room. Then from inside called a familiar voice, but one he hadn't heard for a long time, and his stomach seemed to twist as it met his ears.

"Hello?"

He bit his lip, and resisting the urge to fling open the door and bellow, "SURPRISE!", he twisted the handle carefully, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

It was a fairly small room, with a dark green carpet underfoot and walls painted a soft colour of pistachio, with dappled white here and there, like clouds. There was only one window, but the blind was pulled down so everything was cast in a gentle shadow. Though Harry didn't really take much time to appreciate the decor, as he was far more interested in the bed at the far end of the room, and the person sitting tucked in the sheets, reading a book propped open on her lap. He felt an odd lump in his throat as he shut the door behind him, and made his way over to the chair next to the bed.

She watched him closely as he sat down, her eyes narrowed, and then in a suspicious voice, she said, "I think you've got the wrong room..."

She didn't recognise him. Harry was a little hurt at this, before he realised that he was of course disguised, and nobody recognised him. He smiled a little. "Don't you remember?" he murmured.

She stared at him, her face tight in confusion, before suddenly, it clicked. He could see the realisation dawn on her face, and it was amazing to witness, as her mouth fell open and she choked, "I-... Harry?"

He smiled again. "So the blonde doesn't suit me," he said, with a raised eyebrow.

She just stared for a few moments more, before she blinked, and then said, her face falling into a confused smile, "You... I didn't know you were coming... what's with the eyes? Spell Damage is fourth floor, you know, you should get them checked out."

Harry laughed. He hadn't realised just how much he missed her sense of humour. Here she was, in St Mungo's, after nearly dying from poisoning, and yet she was still just as care-free as he remembered. "It wasn't a spell, it was a potion."

"You're in the right place then," she said, grinning. "The food's not too good, but at least it won't kill you."

"How are you doing now?" he asked. "Are you allowed to eat proper stuff?"

She nodded, easing herself back in the pillows and putting her book down. "They've repaired most of my stomach now, and it can take food, though nothing too spicy or hot... my muscles were worst affected. But the healers are going to get me a wheelchair soon, so I'll be able to move round again. I can't wait to get out of this room... I haven't seen anything but green for a month... and how are you? What happened while I was away?"

Harry smiled weakly. "Well... Lord Voldemort attacked the school and we lost half the students... I nearly got killed a few times... Draco got half a million points for Slytherin, then we got beaten in the Staff vs Students Quidditch match. We split up for the holidays, I've been sitting in the dark for a month, and here we are."

"So it's just been happy happy happy all the way, huh?" she said.

"Pretty much," he said, with a light smile.

"What happened in the Quidditch match? Anything I would be interested in?"

"Madam Hooch broke Ginny's ankle."

"Oh, how nice of her."

"And Professor Sinistra nearly broke Draco's nose with the Quaffle."

"I can tell it was a really calm and boring game then." She smiled, took a glass of water from the side of her bed and sipped for a moment. "Who took my place?"

"Alrister," said Harry. "He joined the Bright Sparks to make up for you... he wasn't quite as good though."

She grinned, and then sighed, glancing into her water. "I'll miss Quidditch..." At his curious noise, she looked up again, a longing expression on her face. "My muscles are too badly damaged... the healers don't think I'll be able to fly a broom properly again, let alone swing a club at the same time." She sneered bitterly into her glass of water. "Healer Webb kindly suggested muggle golf. I don't think so somehow."

"You'll never play again?" he said, sadly.

She shook her head. "No... well." She sighed again, and put down her water. "They only told me a few days ago. They were asking me what I wanted to do with my life, to check I wouldn't have problems, and I said Quidditch. You should have seen the looks on their faces. Stupid Healer Webb... "I don't think that's a very sensible career for a lovely girl like you." Did you see her when you came in?"

"I don't think so. What does she look like?"

"She's really old... all thin and wrinkly and evil." Kainda shivered, glaring at the far wall. "Mum's aunt. When I got put in here, she sent Webb an owl asking her to look out for me."

"What do your family think of all this?" he asked, tentatively. "I mean... it was Blaise that did this to you, he's in Azkaban now..."

She nodded, a grim smile curling her lips. "Mmm, at least something good came out of it. Mum and Dad come to see me once a week for twenty minutes or something, giving interviews to the Prophet about how angry they are at Blaise. How betrayed they feel. I can just tell that they aren't sorry at all... my dad is like Blaise. He probably thinks I just got in the way of Blaise's glorious work."

"I'm sorry they think that way," he said, and he truly did feel sorry for her. Not only had she lost her future in Quidditch, but her family too, and a great deal of her education. He put an arm gently around her shoulders. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, and it turned into a cuddle. He had missed her scent so much. It was just a tiny thing, something he'd never noticed before, but she smelt oddly warm and comforting, like a soft blanket on a cold night.

"I missed you," her voice said in his ear. She took a little breath in. "I hoped you'd come and see me... it gets really lonely here, with only the healers and my stupid parents once a week."

He'd never known Kainda to be somebody who ever felt lonely, but this just made him realise how horrible it must have been for her here, with no friends coming to see her. He patted her back as gently as he could, careful not to hurt her, and then he asked, softly, "Where are you going once you're allowed out?"

She smiled into his neck. "I thought you'd ask me that... I've got good news... Dumbledore wrote to me a few weeks ago. He said that because I'd missed so much time off school, and I hadn't taken my NEWTs or anything, he'd let me back in to do seventh year again. So I can get some proper qualifications and a decent job... after all, I can't play Quidditch anymore."

"So you're coming back?" he said, happily. "That's great! You'll be with all of us then... what subjects did you take at NEWT?"

"Dark Arts, Pure Arts... um... Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology and Muggle Studies," she replied. "Did you take any of them?"

He nodded. "Pure Arts, Potions, Dark Arts, Magical Creatures. So we'll be together in at least some classes." He smiled, and gently, he kissed her cheek. Once again, he was suddenly hit with the realisation of how much he had missed her. Her confidence and laidback attitude rubbed off on him, and made him feel that no matter how bad things go, there was always a future out there somewhere.

"Do you know who's doing Dark Arts this year?" she asked, still resting against him, her breath coming in warm little streams across his neck.

"Lupin," he murmured. "He's lasted three terms now... I think that thing about the Dark Arts job being jinxed was just coincidence..."

She nodded a little, and he felt her lips smile against his neck. "No collar today... got you properly trained at last, have they?"

He smiled. "Yes... I was supposed to have it on now though, but I just left it at home..."

She laughed softly, that rich chuckle of pure amusement. "You're in trouble when you get home, huh?"

"I'd like to see him catch me," said Harry, grinning. He hugged her close to him again, gently rubbing her back. He gave a little sigh of happiness. He had the feeling that this was all he needed, somebody to love and look after, even though he knew he would never admit it to anybody, not even Kainda.

"So... what's with the disguise anyway?" she asked, curiously, reaching up to rub some of his blonde spikes between her fingers. "You really look different."

"Oh..." he said, remembering the Daily Prophet article, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. "You see... I sort of needed to get into the building without being recognised."

She drew back, and raised an eyebrow at him with a mild smile. "On the run now, are you?"

"Sort of," he admitted. "There were a lot of reporters outside... and... well, I don't exactly know how to say this, but in the Daily Prophet this morning - "

To his surprise, she chuckled. "I'm not so ill that I can't read a paper, Harry."

"You know?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

She nodded with a little smile. "Webb came bustling in here this morning while I was eating breakfast, waving it around and demanding to know what I was playing at, dating a boy of Gryffindor heart." She grinned. "I proved to her that I can still throw a little. It took them ages to get the baked beans off the wall."

"So... you're not mad?" he said, hopefully.

"Of course I'm not," she said, and then she winked. "You didn't think I'd do a kiss-and-tell and sell my story to the papers now, did you?"

He grinned. "No, I just didn't know whether you'd want the attention or not... there was something about Ron and Hermione, Ron's probably still going to be purple from embarrassment twenty years from now."

"They could disguise him like you," she said, playing with a tuft of Harry's blonde hair. "I'm sure he'd love that."

There was suddenly a knock on the door, and Harry looked around, not letting go of Kainda, who rested her head on his shoulder almost defiantly. It creaked open, and the face of a very stern-looking old woman peered in at them.

"You have another visitor," she said, sniffily.

"Oh? Who?" asked Kainda, vaguely, nuzzling into Harry's neck as she did.

The old woman's eyes narrowed at that. "It is another man. If you don't already have enough of them." She pushed open the door, and stalked away, as Snape came into the room. He didn't seem ruffled at the sight of Kainda cuddled up to Harry.

"We're going now, Potter... we can return next week, I daresay." He glanced at Kainda. "Miss Zabini, how are you feeling?"

"Much better, thanks, Professor," she said, smiling, and loosening her arms around Harry's neck. She winked at him. "See you soon, Harry. By the way, did you get my potion?"

He grinned, and said, "Yeah, I did... oh! I nearly forgot! I've got you something..." He reached into his pocket, and found the little box he'd put there earlier. He handed it to her gently, and said, "It's not much..."

She opened it, with an eager look in her eyes, and then her lips melted into a smile. "Harry... thankyou." She kissed his cheek. "You're too kind."

He smiled, and uncomfortably aware Snape was watching, he gave her a last hug, then stood up. "I'll see you really soon. Do you mind if Ron, Ginny and Draco come next time?"

"Sure they can," she said, with a smile. "I'd love more visitors."

Snape held the door open, and Harry gave her a last wave, before Snape pushed him neatly out, shut the door, and said, "Come on, Romeo, we have the press to fool."

Harry didn't really care about the Prophet reporters anymore really. He quite wanted one of them to recognise him, so he could just smile and say, "No comment", then bounce off. He practically skipped out of the third floor, with Snape hot on his heels, and they met Tonks at the staircase.

"How is she?" asked Tonks, with a smile.

"She's fine," Harry chirruped, giving a little hop as he started down the stairs.

"Couldn't you guess?" Snape muttered, sarcastically, as he and Tonks followed Harry down the staircase and back into the lobby. Before they headed for the exit, Tonks grabbed him and did a quick check that his disguise was in place.

"Apart from the fact you've got kiss marks all over your face, you look fine to me," she said, brightly. She took a tissue out of the pocket of her fur coat, and dabbed his face, just like a mother upon finding dirt on their son's nose. "Off we go then. They'll have started the decorating by now, so we can still join in."

They slipped carefully through the window of the department store, leaving St Mungo's behind and stepping out into the muggle street beyond. All the Daily Prophet reporters were too busy watching the people going into St Mungo's to notice the blonde boy who came out, grinning from ear to ear, leading two bemused looking adults down the street and away.

"Harry, stay still and stop wriggling around, dear..."

"Can't I just go and decorate?"

"No, not yet." Mrs Weasley slapped another palmful of Madam Madmop's Natural Hair Colour Restorative into his hair, scrubbing vigorously. "Really, Tonks, I thought you knew what you were doing," she sighed.

"I did," Tonks insisted. "How was I to know you weren't supposed to use a Blonde Charm on black hair?"

Mrs Weasley sighed again, and stood back to peer at Harry's head. He was sitting on a stool with his face hanging over the sink, his hair covered in the Colour Restorative, a towel wrapped around his shoulders. "Well, at least he's not ginger anymore," Mrs Weasley said, heavily. "Poor lamb. I think we'll need some more of this stuff, it's still dark red."

Harry gave a little sigh. Tonks had fixed his eyes back to normal easily, and a quick wipe with a facecloth and his scar was back, but then they had tried to return his hair to its regular colour. Nobody would tell him what had happened when Tonks first tried the counter-charm, but Draco had said, heavily, "You don't want to know, Potter".

There were footsteps in the kitchen door, and when Harry peered under his arm, he saw Snape coming in with a large goblet of something. "What's that?" he said, worriedly.

"Various things which strip out colourants," said Snape. "It would have been brewed sooner, had the Black family used their brains and invested in a cauldron made of something slightly more hard-wearing than plastic."

"And we just pour it over his head, do we?" said Mrs Weasley, taking the goblet from him.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "A steady trickle would be slightly more effective than simply sloshing it over Potter, but as you wish..."

Harry braced himself as Mrs Weasley gently tipped the foul smelling potion over his head. It ran down under his jaw and across his forehead, and all the time, there was a very worrying hissing sound coming from the sink below him. After a few moments, the last of the draft drained away down the plug, and Mrs Weasley started examining his hair. "Marvellous, it's black at last..." She threw a towel over his head, and started to rub his hair dry rather vigorously. Harry could dully hear the sounds of explosions coming from upstairs, though nobody thought any of this was out of the ordinary.

Mrs Weasley smiled, and said, promptly, "There now... lovely. All back to normal."

"Can I go and help now?" asked Harry.

"Of course you can. But be careful when you walk in, make sure they've not just lit a firework," said Mrs Weasley, smiling down at him, and he hurried out of the kitchen, heading for the staircase. He followed the sound of voices, and eventually found where everybody else was. He knocked on the closed door of one of the bedrooms, and called, "Can I come in?"

The door opened, and Ron grinned out at him. He was covered in paint, and had even managed to get some in his ears. "Not ginger any more?"

"Luckily," said Harry, grinning back. They both stepped inside, and shut the door. Harry was amazed at what they'd managed to do to the room that had been black until recently. Everything was a shade of warm beige, and everyone was standing around with their wands, using quick-drying charms on the paint.

"Alright, Harry?" Fred called from across the room.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, as he drew out his wand, and started to help Ron dry the wall near the door.

George strolled around behind them, acting like the boss of a large factory. "Good work everyone, jolly good work! Keep this up and we might get this all done by the time the sun collapses in on itself!"

"Why don't you actually do some work, as you're so good?" said Ginny over her shoulder.

"I am working, for your information," he said to her, pompously. "I'm doing the most important job of shouting at you all until you actually work faster."

"Oh, George," said Bill. "We're not doing badly... maybe we should split up though, so we could get more rooms done at once. We still need to figure out how to get Mrs Black's portrait down from the hallway..."

"We could do that now," said Mr Weasley. "Remus? Tonks should be up in a moment or two, could you two supervise Fred, George and Ginny in here? The rest of us can go and start work on rehoming Mrs Black to the dustbin."

And so Ron, Draco, Harry and Bill all followed Mr Weasley out of the bedroom, and down the stairs into the hall, passing Tonks on the way. Snape was already ahead of them, and was standing just outside the Mrs Black Danger Zone, deep in thought.

"Any ideas of how to get it off the wall, Professor?" asked Draco, instantly sucking up to Snape.

"Many," said Snape. "Each foiled in some way. The old hag was a typical Black, only ever lending their brain to unimportant things."

"I'm related to them," said Draco, looking slightly hurt.

"Mm," said Snape, apparently not bothered.

"The problem is that we can't get near enough to try and remove the curse," said Bill. "Any noise made near her and she'll wake up. It's impossible to block out all that screaming enough to concentrate."

"Well... what's behind that wall?" said Ron. Everybody turned to look at him. "I mean, there must be something there. There's just not a door. Look at the shape of the house, there must be a room or solid concrete or something there."

"And your point is...?" said Draco.

Ron shrugged. "Why bother trying to get her off the wall if we don't even need the wall? We could just knock it through into the other room." Quietly, he stepped through into the Danger Zone, and tapped with his knuckles on the wall. "It's hollow," he whispered.

"We could do with Mad-Eye here to tell us what's in there," said Mr Weasley. "Well... I suppose it won't be anything dangerous, if the room has been sealed for as long as Sirius said it has. There's no harm in trying."

"What if that wall's supporting the house or something?" said Harry.

"It won't be," Bill assured him. "All wizard buildings aren't supported by the buildings themselves. They're held up by magic. You could knock out the entire of the bottom floor, but as long as you left one thing connecting the upper floor to the ground, it wouldn't fall."

Mr Weasley smiled a little, rolling up his sleeves. "Well then... sleeves up everyone, wands out. A good reductor curse should blast through it... if we all aim directly for the painting?"

They all nodded, and drew out their wands, standing back.

"On the count of three," said Mr Weasley. "Ready? One... two... three!!"

"REDUCTO!!" they all cried at once, swishing their wands over their heads, and bullets of red light burst from the ends of their wands. They all hit the painting dead on, there was a tremendous BANG that shook the whole house, and in an explosion of plaster and bits of wood, dust flew everywhere, obscuring their view.

The smoke and dust gradually filtered away, falling in a grey cloud and leaving whispy streaks floating near the ceiling. Through the haze, Harry could see the wall where Mrs Black's portrait once hung, blasted apart with a huge hole right where the painting once was.

Mr Weasley coughed, waving his hand in front of him to try and dispel some of the smoke, as they all stepped forward to peer through the hole into the room beyond. "It's too dark," said Mr Weasley. "Let's see... lumos!" The tip of his wand glowed with a tiny little light, and carefully, he reached through the hole into the darkness. The circle of light washed over what looked like a pile of wooden chests and many scrolls of paper, covered in dust, and clearly placed there years and years before. "How odd," said Mr Weasley, frowning pensively. "Family documents, perhaps?" He gripped a bit of the plaster and pulled, gradually widening the hole, enough for them all the step through. They all lit their wand tips and crouched down by the mass of parchment.

Bill, who had just picked up one of the rolls, was unravelling it and reading slowly with a frown upon his face. "What language is this?" he said, showing it to his father. "The lines are in different scripts... that's Egyptian there... then Norse runes... that looks like Chinese, and I'm sure that's Cyrillic on the line below."

Draco had picked up another scroll. Harry watched over his shoulder as he opened it up. "This is Ancient Runes... something about loss of... what's that? Mortality? I'm sure it is... does it mean death?"

"Loss of mortality, and death, are very different things," said Snape. He took the parchment from Draco, and read it aloud, only pausing once or twice. "Many things in this world provide a loss of mortality. Concentrated vampire blood, unicorn blood, the eggs of the phoenix crushed into a fine powder. All must be combined together to create The Brew of Everlasting Life."

Ron said, suddenly, from across the room. "Um... Dad? I think I know what this is all about..."

They all crowded around Ron, staring at the parchment he had unrolled. As the light washed over it, they all understood. There, at the very bottom of the paper, was the dark mark, inked in green and black.

"Voldemort," Harry whispered. A few people flinched. "And immortality... do you think these are all his notes? When he was looking for something to bring him eternal life?"

"What would they be doing in the Black household?" said Mr Weasley, frowning.

"Perhaps he gave them to her to look after," said Bill. He raised an eyebrow. "All the Blacks apart from Sirius were Voldemort supporters, weren't they? If he found what he needed for immortal life, he would have given the scrolls to somebody he could really trust."

"What about my family?" said Draco. "Surely the Malfoys would have been a more logical choice."

"The two families joined together though," said Bill. "Because of your mother. Voldemort would also need a very, very safe place to hide the scrolls."

"Malfoy Manor is safe," said Draco, a little hurt.

Bill looked a little reluctant for a moment, and then said, "Look at it this way... Grimmauld Place, the house of the Blacks, is still standing. It's not been raided yet by the ministry or anything. But Malfoy Manor..."

"... was taken away because of a technicality," said Draco, frowning.

"This doesn't matter," said Mr Weasley, hurriedly. "Stop fighting. If these really are the notes that You-Know-Who used, we need experts to come and translate them. Find out how he did it. There might be a way to break his immortality... which of us can read these?"

"I could translate the Runes," said Snape.

"I'll help," said Draco.

"I can do the Hieroglyphics, and some of the Norse runes," said Bill. "Though we'll need more people. We should get these sent off to the ministry, Dad, they've got experts there. We don't want anything to ruin the parchment."

"Of course," said Mr Weasley. "You're right. Everybody out, we need to keep them all safe and untouched until the ministry arrive. I'll send a message to Cornelius right away. Bill, could you send an owl to your boss at Gringotts? Tell him we'll need translators, and lots of them."

"No problem," said Bill, as he stepped out of the room and hurried away up the stairs.

Mr Weasley shepharded the rest of them out of the dark vault. "This is such a discovery... and who would have thought there was another reason for Mrs Black to hang her portrait there? It was a guard. A decoy, almost."

"Arthur?" said Mrs Weasley, peering out of the kitchen at them all, as they emerged from the scrolls room, covered in dust. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"Yes, Molly," he said, breathlessly, as he headed away up the stairs, calling over his shoulder. "We've just found the key to the down fall of the Dark Lord once and for all!"

She stood in the kitchen door staring after him, and after a moment, she said, blandly, "Alright then... dinner's at six."

Chapter Five: Harry's First Meeting

Harry, Ron, Draco and Ginny all loitered at the top of the stairs to watch as the ministry men arrived, and started levitating the delicate scrolls and trunks out of the hidden vault. Bill and Mr Weasley had lots of serious conversations, Mrs Weasley was rushing back and forth making tea for everyone, and as the four teenagers were just eating their evening meal, a pack of goblins arrived, with lots of clipboards and magical photography equipment. Harry was very interested to hear Bill speaking Gobbledegook to the goblins, with lots of hand gestures and nodding. The goblins didn't stay for long. They took down what Bill was saying, then left, debating the information on the clipboards in low voices.

The four teenagers were just tucking into Mrs Weasley's home-made strawberry ice cream and raspberries when Mr Weasley came tottering up the stairs, carrying his prized television.

"Here you are," he said, putting it down with a little groan. "Molly thinks you could all do with something to entertain you while the ministry are clearing things out, and Fred and George won't let you join in with the decorating."

"They'll just ruin it!" Fred's voice shouted from the floor above. "You know what Ron's like with a paintbrush!"

Ron frowned and muttered something incoherent as his father adjusted the television, and drew his wand. "Special charm," said Mr Weasley, smiling. "Just been passed from the Department of Experimental Charms... it powers muggle electrical objects. And as I'm the Minister for Inter-Muggle Relations, they thought it would be useful." He smiled, flicked his wand at the television and said, "Ammario!"

The television instantly flickered into use, and the screen filled with a large picture of a rabbit. Several puppets had a real rabbit at the bottom of the screen, and were playing with it, pointing out its wiffly nose and long ears. Ron recoiled backwards, and cried, "Stop them! They'll kill it!"

"They're puppets," Draco sighed. "They're not alive."

"How do you know?" Ron said, rounding on him.

Draco reached up, and whipped a sock off the pile of laundry Tonks was carrying past. He pulled it over his hand, miming a biting motion. "Is this sock dangerous?"

"Knowing you..." Ron muttered.

Harry moved forward, and pressed the button on the television to change the channel. The rabbit and the puppets vanished, replaced by a man with a comb-over, reading the muggle news.

"Good evening, and welcome to the news," said the man, with a little smile, shuffling his papers. "The time is six PM."

Ron checked his watch, and whispered, "He's right you know."

"Imagine that," said Draco, quietly. Luckily, Ron didn't hear him.

"The headline news you're tuning into," said the newsreader, as pictures appeared in the top right of the screen. "Another Egyptian tomb has been newly discovered, quite some distance away from the valley of the kings. Experts are already on the scene, though it appears the tomb was already breached by robbers, and little remains of the original site. A few paintings on papyrus have been found, and these will be taken to a museum as soon as possible."

Getting bored, Harry was about to change the channel back to the puppets and their rabbit, when a picture flashed up on the screen which made him stop dead. It was that face, the crocodile-mouthed hawk-eyed face, grinning at him from the top right corner. Harry gave a strangled gasp, and pointed at it, "Look!"

The picture, however, had just faded into a shot of a baby lamb sucking from a milk bottle. Draco stared at Harry in amazement, and Ginny blinked, but Ron gasped and leaned in for a closer look. "Whoa, what is that? It looks kinda vicious."

"No, not that," said Harry. "The thing on before. The face."

"Oh, that painting?" said Ginny. She shrugged. "What was wrong with it?"

"I've seen it before," said Harry. "In the glass of the jewellery shop, and I've dreamt about it."

They all gave him wide-eyed looks. Harry looked around at his friends, and then Ginny said, quietly, "So?"

Harry felt his face starting to burn. "Haven't you ever seen it?" They shook their heads. He now felt incredibly stupid at making such a big deal of seeing a face before, and he was realising what an idiot he must have seemed grabbing Lupin's arm in the shopping centre.

Luckily, Ron wasn't dwelling on the subject, and messing around with the television again. In a few minutes, Harry's moment of oddness seemed to be forgotten, as Ron was learning avidly about muggle rabbits. Ginny seemed interested, but wasn't too thrilled, more concerned about finishing her ice cream, and Draco was pretending to be bored. Harry could see his eyes fixed on the television though, and a hint of a smile curled his thin lips as the presenter was being particularly patronising to one of the puppets. Harry, however, was very bored. He'd learnt all about rabbits when Dudley got one for his birthday a while ago, but tired of it quickly, and Harry was left to clean it out and care for it.

Leaving his friends with the puppets on television, Harry took his bowl down to the kitchen, then headed upstairs again, going down a corridor, moving in the general direction of the ladder to the attic. Fred and George were now up there painting, by the sound of things, and all the content was piled around the bottom of the ladder. Harry glanced over the old paintings, house-elf heads, moth-eaten armchairs and cardboard boxes of what could be described as junk at best. His eyes then fell upon something else, a large wooden trunk, on which was carved, "THE MEMBERS OF MAGIC". Harry remembered it very well. A year ago, he had opened th