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Harry stared.   The girl sitting on Ray’s bed was about his own age, but no one he had ever seen before.   She wore shabby blue robes, bare feet tucked up beneath her.   Her brown hair hung in tangled curls to her shoulders; her eyes were warm and brown and familiar.   It seemed impossible, it was impossible, but it was also one of the things he’d been thinking himself, and here she was...

"Zelda?" he said.  

The girl smiled hesitantly.  

Ron came around the bottom of Harry’s bed to see better.   "Zelda?"  He sounded less believing than Harry felt.   "How did... are you..."  

"Have you always been human?" Neville asked over Ron’s sputters.

Zelda nodded.   "I was born human," she said.   "And I was human all the time until—"

"Until he decided to make you his pet!"   Ron had found his voice again.   "Or until his father decided for him!"   He rounded on Ray.   "So this is why you do so well on homework — your slave does the work for you!"

Ray was on his feet.   "Shut up!   You don’t know anything about it!"

"I know enough to see a human being with a collar around her neck!"

"Ron," Harry said.

"For all your pretty words, you still treat her like dirt!"

"Ron."

"If you really believe in all that stuff you keep saying about getting away from your father, why don’t you do something about it and—"

"Ron!"

"What?"

"Look at her," Harry said, pointing to Zelda.   "Do you see any collar?"

Ron looked, and deflated.   "I know it was there yesterday," he said.   "I saw it then."

Neville got off his bed and crossed the room to Ray’s bedside table, where he picked up a strip of green leather.   "Is this it?" he said.

Zelda accepted it from him and turned it over in her hands.   "I don’t mind wearing it, Ron," she said, looking up at Ron.   "Not when I’m the wolf.   It’s just part of my life."

"That sounds like you’ve been brainwashed," Ron grumbled.  

Zelda bared her teeth at him.   "Take it back," she growled.   "Now."

"Hold it," Harry said, stepping between the two.   "Ron, we don’t know enough to be yelling.   There’s probably a good reason for it."

"You don’t have a brother that works with dangerous animals," Ron shot back.   "You don’t know a controlling collar when you see one.   I do.   As long as she has the collar on, that bracelet Malfoy wears could make her do anything."

"Don’t call him that," Zelda snapped.  

"Just because it could doesn’t mean it will," Neville pointed out over her.   "It depends on what Ray does."

"And he never makes me do anything I don’t want to," Zelda said hotly.   "I wear it because otherwise I couldn’t be here, at Hogwarts.   When people see the collar, they think Ray has me under control, and they let me go places animals aren’t allowed to go otherwise."

"But why are you an animal in the first place?" Harry asked.   "Is someone looking for you?"

"No.   Not exactly."   Zelda’s smile returned.   "It’s a long story.   Do you want to get breakfast first?"

"Hell with breakfast, I want to hear this," Ron said, sitting on the bottom of Harry’s bed.  

"You must really be interested," Ray muttered, his back still to the rest of the room, as it had been since Ron had stopped shouting at him.  

Ron made an obscene gesture at Ray’s back.  

"My parents fought in the war when I was a baby," Zelda began.   "They never meant to get me involved, but it just happened.   There was a battle, and I was there.   They were both killed, and I got hit with a curse, something no one really understood.   Mr. Malfoy — Ray’s father — took me home with him, to study what the curse did."

"He’d seen that curse used before," Ray put in, turning to face them.   "He knew what it ought to do, and he wanted to see if it would do it again."

"Did it?" Neville asked.  

"It did."   Zelda rolled her shoulders forward.   "It turned me into a magical creature.   Like a werewolf, but not.   I don’t lose my human mind the way a werewolf does.   I’m me all the time.   I get grouchy on full moon nights, but I don’t go around killing things."

"Except pillows," Ray said, sitting down on the end of the bed.   "And my best dress robes."

Zelda slapped his ear lightly.   "The other difference between me and a werewolf is how often we change," she said.   "A werewolf only changes once a month.   I change every day, or I ought to.   I turn human when the sun comes up and wolf when it goes down."

"But you’ve always been the wolf, every time we’ve seen you," Harry said.   "And we see you almost every day.   How does that work?"

"There’s a potion I take," Zelda said.   "When I drink it, it keeps me in the form I’m in for the next twenty-four hours.   So if I took it now, I’d be human until this time tomorrow morning, and by then I’d be human again anyway."

"So why do you take it when you’re the wolf?"   Ron looked suspiciously at Ray.   "If he makes you..."

"He is sitting right here, thank you," said Ray huffily.   "And I don’t make Zelda do anything."

"All the changing is hard on my body," Zelda said quickly.   "Mr. Malfoy studied it, and found out that my wolf form is more stable.   So if I stay in wolf form most of the time, I’m more likely to be healthy."   She grinned.   "Besides, people talk a lot more in front of something they think is an animal.   I get to hear all kinds of things."

"Not from me any more, you’re not," Harry said.   "And no peeking when we’re changing clothes, either."

Zelda bristled.   "I never do!   That’s disgusting!"

"If changing is bad for you, why are you human now?" Neville asked.   "Just to show us?"

Zelda shook her head.   "It’s actually for the same reason as Ray," she said.   "The potions we take have an ingredient in common, one that builds up and could make us sick if we don’t take time off from them.   So just like he needs his night with extra sleep, I need my day to be human, about once a month."

Harry frowned.   An idea had slipped into the back of his head, but it was refusing to let him see it.   Something to do with Ray and Zelda, and something Hagrid had said...

"And that’s why the Hat sorted you," Ron was saying now.   "Because you’re really human."

Zelda nodded.   "And I have the perfect memory, not Ray," she said.   "I help him write his notes after class sometimes.   Especially History of Magic."   She looked around at them, a smile teasing the corners of her mouth.   "I could help you, if you like.   I won’t give you answers, but I’ll help you study."

"She’s great that way," Ray said.   "I think she likes not being human.   It means she doesn’t have to do the homework."

"You know that’s not true!"  Zelda smacked him again.   "I’d love to do homework!   I just think the professors might be a little surprised to see me handing things in!"

"Does anyone else know about you, Zelda?" Harry asked.   "Any of the teachers or anyone?"

Zelda shook her head.   "Just me and Ray, and Ray’s parents," she said.   "And now you.   And..."   Sudden fear crossed her face.   "You can’t tell anyone.   Oh, God, I didn’t think of that.   You have to promise, give your word, that you won’t tell anyone, anyone, about me."

"Why not?" Ron asked in surprise.   "Will something happen?"

"It’s another part of the curse," Ray said somberly.   "It’s the other reason she stays in wolf form most of the time.   Because if anyone tells anyone else that she’s human, she’ll die."   His smile was almost a grimace.   "I was praying that showing you, instead of telling, wouldn’t activate it, and I guess it didn’t.   But maybe that’s because you already knew it, or suspected it.   And I wonder why they suspected it?" he said over his shoulder to Zelda.

"Well, I wouldn’t have been talking if you hadn’t got yourself into trouble!" she shot back.   "First the troll, then going after Professor Snape—"

"It wasn’t Snape, you said so yourself.   Snape hates Harry, but he wouldn’t try to kill him, not after Harry’s dad saved his life..."

"What?" said Ron and Neville together.  

Ray looked at Harry.   "You want to tell?"

"Sure," Harry said slowly.   "Sure, I’ll tell."

But how do you know?

He repeated this question aloud after the story was told.  

"My dad told me," Ray said.  "He didn’t put names with it, but he made it obvious other ways."

"But how did he know?"

Ray shrugged.   "I don’t know how he knows what he knows."

"I’m hungry," Zelda announced, her head and shoulders dangling off Ray’s bed.   "Do I get fed today, or should I scrounge?"

Ray rolled his eyes.   "You know where I keep the chocolate.   And I’ll bring you something from the kitchens later.   I think that’s her way of telling us to get out," he added to the other boys.   "Besides, I’m getting hungry myself, and breakfast is almost over."

"Wand," said Zelda, extending her hand.  

"Fine, fine."   Ray pulled his wand from his pocket and handed it over.   "Don’t do anything you can’t undo on your own."

"Why does she need your wand?" Neville asked.  

"Because I don’t have one of my own," Zelda said.   "And since I’m not human very often, I like to practice spells every time I have the chance.   Knock before you come back in."

"Knocking on our own dorm door," Ron said as the boys filed out.   "What else are we going to have to do?"

"Lie," Harry said.   "If anyone asks us about Zelda."

"But why would they?" Neville asked.   "The only reason we thought she was different is because we were with her enough to notice.   Nobody else is around her long enough to notice anything, not even Seamus and Dean, or the girls in our year."

"Girls," Ron said.   "She’s a girl.   Won’t we get in trouble if anyone finds out we had a girl sleeping in our dorm with us?"

"Most of the time, she’s not a human girl," Ray said.   "She’s just my pet."   He spat the word scornfully.   "And if anyone knew differently, we’d have bigger problems than them finding out a girl slept in our dorm.   Trust me, Ron, we’re not going to get in trouble for that."

Harry slowed, letting the other boys go in front of him, watching them.   You’re still hiding something, Ray.   You’ve still got secrets you’re not telling.   You’re a Gryffindor and I like you, but you’re still a Malfoy, and I’ve heard stories about them all my life.   And you know an awful lot about me and my family.   More than I’m comfortable with you knowing.  

He’d write to Padfoot and Letha, Harry decided.   He’d tell them more about Ray, and as much of Zelda’s story as he could without revealing that she was human.

The thought about Ray and Zelda danced in the back of his head once more, laughing impishly and running away as he tried to pin it down.   But it’s important, I’m sure it is.   I just need to think about something else, and it’ll come to me.  

He wished he didn’t have the feeling that he ought to figure it out right away.  

Happy first day of Christmas holidays.  


"Wow," Neville said as Zelda sat up, sleekly furry and gray once more.   "Doesn’t that hurt?"

No, but it itches when my fur grows.   Zelda scratched behind one ear.  

"How are you doing that?" Harry asked.   "Talking to us, I mean?   Your mouth isn’t moving."

And you’re not hearing me with your ears.   I talk into your mind when I’m like this.   Zelda looked chagrined.   You never would have known I could talk if I’d been more careful.   I can pick who I want to hear me and only talk to them, unless I’m in a hurry or frightened.   It’s the difference between whispering in someone’s ear and shouting.  

"Thanks for shouting at me," Ron said.   "I’d hate to spend the holidays in the hospital wing."

"You wouldn’t be there for all the holidays," said Ray, rubbing the back of his neck.   "Just last night, probably.   C’mere, Zel, I’ll get between your shoulder blades."

Oh, would you?   Thanks.   Zelda whined with pleasure as Ray scratched her back.  

"Something very wrong about that," Ron muttered.  

Get your mind out of the gutter.  


On Christmas morning, Harry was awakened by the dipping and swaying of his bed.   "Meghan, gerroff," he mumbled.

Sorry, Harry, I’m not Meghan.  

"Wha—"   Harry rolled over and opened one eye.   "Oh.   Morning, Zelda."

The wolf sat down next to the small heap of presents.   Good morning, and happy Christmas.  

"Thanks, you too."   It wasn’t actually all that early, Harry realized.   It just felt like it.   "Anyone else awake?"

Not yet, I don’t think.   Why did you think I was Meghan?   I thought you weren’t allowed to sleep away from your relatives’ house.  

"Well, not at night.   But I used to take naps when I was little, and Meghan thought it was really funny to jump on the end of the couch and wake me up."

Zelda wolf-grinned.   I think I’d like her.   I hope I can meet her someday.   So, are you going to open these?   She sniffed at Harry’s presents.   The top... two?   No, three are from your family.  

Harry reached out to his nightstand, found his glasses, and put them on, bringing Zelda and the presents into clearer focus.   "How do you know that?   You’ve never met them."

Zelda’s tail twitched.   They smell like grown-up man, grown-up woman, and little girl.   And just a bit like Dungbombs.   I don’t need to be a seventh year to figure it out.  

Harry scooted down the bed to sort through the presents.   "Will you be able to be a seventh year?" he asked, tossing the wilting holly leaf from the Dursleys out through the crack in the hangings.   "Are you going to stay all that time?"

Where Ray goes, I go.   And I have to get an education, don’t I?  

"I don’t know.   What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Human.   Human all the time, without having to hide and pretend.   Zelda sighed, closing her teeth around the flap of wrapping paper Harry offered her and pulling at it gently.   I don’t mind the changing.   I just wish I didn’t have to lie so much.  

Harry set aside the box of flying Quidditch logos Meghan had sent him without even opening it to find the Chudley Cannons one for Ron.   "I know how you feel."

I know you do.   But no one else does.   No one else grew up with a secret, things they could never do, never say, never tell.   Zelda spat out the wrapping paper and looked at Harry contemplatively.   You know, we’re a lot alike, you and me.   We both live with people who treat us like dirt, and we both have other people who tell us we’re OK.   Right?  

"Right.   But who do you have?   Other than Ray?"

Isn’t he enough? Zelda said quickly.   One person who knows the truth can make the difference.   And he doesn’t treat me like a servant or a pet.   More like his sister, or his cousin...

"Or his aunt."

Zelda sat up so fast she nearly fell off the bed.   What?

Harry laughed.   "It’s a song.   ‘And we are his sisters and his cousins and his aunts, his sisters and his cousins and his aunts.’"

Oh, Gilbert and Sullivan.   Zelda made the quiet barking noise that was her laughter.   I remember now.   Come on, let’s get the others up.   They shouldn’t be sleeping still — it’s Christmas!  

Ron’s foot was sticking out from under the covers.   Harry couldn’t resist.   "Your nose," he whispered to Zelda.   "Put it on there."

Grinning all over her pointed face, Zelda sidled up and did just that.

Ron came awake with a yelp.   "What the—"

Hap-py Christmas! Zelda caroled into his mind while Harry laughed.  

Ron glared at them both and suggested something rude, then ignored them in favor of creating a small hailstorm of wrapping paper.  

Aww, we should have done Ray first, said Zelda in disappointment as she turned around.   Ron woke Neville.  

"Morning, Neville," Harry said.   "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas."   Neville’s hangings were parted at the bottom.   "Waking people up?"

That’s what noses are for.   Among other things.   Zelda put her front paws on the bottom of Neville’s bed and sniffed his presents delicately.   One from each parent, one from your gran, a few from great-aunts and uncles...

"Gerroff."   Neville pulled his presents farther up the bed.   "You’ve never met my family — how can you tell all that?"

"That’s what I said," Harry commented.  

Zelda looked smug.   The nose knows, gentlemen.   And Ray isn’t awake yet.   Should we go annoy him?  

"Why not."   Harry followed Zelda across the room.   "Why’d you say we should have done him first?" he asked as he parted the hangings.   Ray’s back was to them, his hair disarrayed as he never allowed it to be in the daytime.  

Because.   You might want to go around to the other side and watch.  

Harry tiptoed around the bed and pulled the hangings open on the other side, noting the distant smile on Ray’s face.   Zelda set her paws delicately on the bedframe, lifted the blankets off Ray’s back with her teeth, and leaned in, aiming her nose for the level of Ray’s waist —

Ray’s eyes shot open, his whole body stiffened, his mouth opened and closed.   Silently.  

"Wow," Harry said as Ray sat up, teeth clenched, rubbing furiously at his back.   "How’d you do that?"

"What?   Wake up without yelling?"

"Yeah."

"Practice."   He glared over at Zelda.   "I’ve had lots of it."

Zelda’s tail fanned the air behind her.   Only because you never learned that if you get me last thing at night, I have to get you first thing in the morning.  

"You sound like the Marauders," said Harry.   "That’s how Padfoot says they always did."

Ray ignored this in favor of his presents.   "Open all yours already, Harry?" he asked, starting to rip the red and green striped paper off the top parcel.  

"No, I actually forgot about them."

"You what?   Hey, Ron, Neville, listen to this.   Harry forgot about his presents!"

"Forgot about presents?" Ron said incredulously.   "On Christmas Day, you forgot about presents?"

"He was too busy waking you up, so you could have your presents," Neville said placidly.   "He thinks more about others than he does about himself.   My mum says that’s the sign of a good friend."  

Ron made gagging noises, but Harry grinned.   Neville was only this poncy when he was having someone on.          

"Stow it," Ray said, firing a Bertie Bott’s Bean across the dorm at Neville.   "Harry, go open your presents before Neville gets any sappier."

Harry returned to his bed and picked up a small gift that had fallen out of the middle of the stack.   It was from Hagrid, and proved to be a hand-carved whistle shaped like a wolf.   Harry blew on it, and an eerie howl filled the dorm.   Zelda yelped and cowered in place.  

"It’s just Hagrid’s present," Harry said, taking the whistle away from his lips.  

Warn me next time you’re doing something like that!   It hurt!  

"Hurt?" said Ron.   "How could it hurt?"

"Zel can hear more than we can," said Ray.   "Higher notes, and they hurt her ears.   There’s probably some of those in there."

No, really, genius?   I can speak for myself now, you know.  

Ray rapped the top of Zelda’s head.   Zelda snapped playfully at his fingers.  

Harry set the whistle aside and started on the other presents.   Padfoot had sent him a broom maintenance kit, which Harry interpreted as a good omen for a broom of his own on his birthday.   Letha’s present was a small book of potion-making hints, with an inscription inside the front cover — You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, but a Fly-Finding Formula works even better.   The gifts from his friends were mostly chocolate and other sweets, as were the gifts Harry had bought them.  Finally, there was only one parcel left, a flat one, very light.  

"Who’s that from?" Neville asked, looking across the room as Harry held the package up.  

"Don’t know.   I’ve had all the presents from the usual people."  

"Only one way to find out," said Ray.  

Harry tore at the paper, and something silver and slippery flowed past his hands and puddled on the floor.   Zelda froze, then raced over to investigate.   It smells like you, she reported, sniffing at the thing.   But... not you.   Not exactly.   It’s a very old smell.  

"It can’t be," Ron said in amazement.   "Who do you know..."

"Can you tell who it’s from?" Harry asked.   His heart was thumping like the drums at a Weird Sisters concert — he knew what this was, what it must be, he’d heard about it all his life but never thought he’d see it...

Zelda shook her head.   The only other smell on it is trunk.   It’s been in storage a long time.  

"There’s a note," said Neville, pointing.

Harry sat down on the floor and picked up the slip of parchment.   "Your father left this in my possession before he died," he read aloud.   "It is time it was returned to you.   Use it well."

"Your father," said Ray.   "That would explain why you thought it was him, Zel.   They look so much alike, they probably smell alike too."

"Do you smell like your dad, then?" Ron asked.  

Ray shrugged.   "Do I?" he asked Zelda.  

What?   Oh.   Yes.   You do.  Zelda was still sniffing at the cloth, her voice distracted.  

"Do you mind?" Harry said, pulling it away from her.   "It was my dad’s."

I know.   I just... never mind.   Sorry.

"So try it on," Neville said, pushing wrapping paper aside.   He knew what James Potter had once owned that looked like water woven into cloth.  

Harry swirled the Invisibility Cloak around himself and grinned as the other boys stared.   To their eyes, he knew, he had just vanished.  

Zelda gave a smug chortle in the back of her throat.   I know you’re there, she announced.   I can smell you.   And if I can, Mrs. Norris can, so you’ll still have to be careful if you’re going out sneaking with this.  

"I know.   Don’t worry."   Harry pulled the Cloak off his head.

"That’s freaky," said Ron.   "Don’t do that."

"Floating Head of Dooooom," Ray moaned.   "Wooooo..."

Ron looked at him.   "Has anyone told you lately you’re weird?"


Zelda was helpful where lessons were concerned, but the help was more than balanced, in Harry’s opinion, by the fact that she was a nag.   A polite nag, but a nag nonetheless.   Have you finished that essay for Professor Snape? she would ask, just when the game of Exploding Snap was getting exciting.   What about those definitions for Professor McGonagall? when he’d planned on sleeping late.

Still, it meant he, and the other three boys, had their homework done by New Year’s Day, and could therefore spend it exploring the castle, aided by the Invisibility Cloak.   Daytime explorations were safer than night, since it didn’t officially count as sneaking until you were somewhere you shouldn’t be.   Harry had the Cloak bundled into a pocket (it compressed into a surprisingly small package), ready to drape it over those who needed to be hidden.  

I know what we can look at, Zelda said, prancing a little as they climbed a flight of stairs.   We can look at the forbidden corridor.  

"The one on the third floor?" said Ron.   "Why, so we can die a painful death?"

No, silly, just to see what’s there.   Ray and I looked a couple times already, but we can’t quite tell what it is.  I know it’s something alive, and canine, but it’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled before.  

"And I think I know what I saw through the keyhole, but I want to make sure," said Ray, stepping around a suit of armor.   "Harry?"

Harry extracted the Cloak and carefully draped it over them.   "Wish you were human today, Zelda," he muttered.   "You don’t quite fit."

I can stay here.   Ray can tell me what he sees.  Zelda backed out from under the Cloak and into the corner behind the armor.   Is that better?  

Harry worked himself in under the Cloak.   "Still a little cramped, but it’ll do."  

Good luck.  

They reached the door without trouble, and were assured of its being the correct one not only by its being locked but by the loud snores coming from within.   Several spirited rounds of rock-paper-scissors determined that Neville had to keep watch, so Harry, Ron, and Ray peered at the door handle together.  

"I wonder if just an Opening Charm would do it?" Ray said, drawing his wand.   "It seems kind of basic, but if it’s just locked to keep us from opening the door by accident..."

"Yeah, whatever’s in there is probably the real security," Ron said, wincing at a particularly loud snore.  

Harry chewed his lip.   Something about the snoring didn’t seem right.  

"Harry?"

He realized Ron and Ray were both looking at him.   "Yeah, go ahead," he said, recalling the topic of conversation.   "Unlock it.   Just be ready to shut it again fast if whatever it is comes out at us."

Another very loud snore almost drowned out Ray’s whisper of "Alohomora!" and it wasn’t until Ron pulled the door open that Harry put his finger on what was wrong with the snoring.  There’s nothing wrong with it, there’s just more than one thing doing it...

Then he looked through the door.

Or it could be that.  

"Er, I think I’ve seen enough," Ron said weakly, staring at the enormous three-headed dog.  

"Just a second."   Ray was on his knees.   "Look at this.   Is that a hinge?"

"I think it is," Harry said.   "Ron, can you give me a boost?"

Neville came to help, and in a moment Harry was standing on their shoulders, peering over the dog.   "There’s a latch on the other side," he whispered down.   "It’s a trapdoor."

The snoring hitched, then resumed.  

"Let’s get out of here before it wakes up, please," muttered Ron, helping Harry down.   "We’ll be in enough trouble if anyone finds out we were here, I’d rather not get mauled too."

Neville lifted the handle and pushed the door shut delicately, making hardly any noise at all.   Ray applied his wand to the lock again, and the boys piled back under the Cloak and started for the Tower.   Zelda joined them on the fifth floor near the library, where they took off the Cloak again behind another suit of armor.  

Three heads? were her first words.  

"Unless we missed one," said Ron.  

"I don’t think we did," said Harry.   "And it’s lying on a trapdoor.   Guarding something."

Ray frowned.   "But what would be so important that they’d let a three-headed dog live in Hogwarts to guard it?"

Zelda tilted her head and drew a deep breath as if thinking.   Her eyes widened.   Oh no — hide!

Harry spotted an open door and pointed at it, pulling the Cloak out of his pocket with his other hand and holding it up like a shield, praying it would work even though he wasn’t actually wearing it, because now he could hear what had frightened Zelda.

Voices.   Two men’s voices.   And they were getting closer.  

"...question your decision to allow such an item to be sequestered here, Dumbledore, and without even contacting the Board of Governors..."

Ray and Zelda were in the room, Neville too, and Ron was beckoning Harry closer.   Harry shook his head, dropping the Cloak so that it covered him head to toe.   He wanted to hear this.  

"...friendship with Flamel only goes so far..."

"Really, Lucius, I see no reason you should be interested.   And I would like even more to know how you came by this information."

Lucius?   As in Ray’s dad?

"I have my sources, Dumbledore.  As I’m sure you have yours."  

Harry stuck his invisible head around the corner and had his suspicion confirmed.   The man in front of him could have been Ray after a dose of Aging Potion, down to the green leather bracelet around Lucius Malfoy’s right wrist.

Harry frowned.   What’s he doing with one of those?  

"I would very much like to know who broke into my house a few months ago and destroyed a very valuable item.   Whoever it was, they did so without tripping any of my security charms, and without leaving any traces of themselves behind."

Dumbledore was smiling vaguely.   "Don’t your... sources tell you things like that?"

"Don’t play with me, Dumbledore, I know you had something to do with it.   Are you going to tell me or are you not?"

"Not.   But I might, if sufficiently persuaded, give you a hint."

Malfoy scowled.   "Your dealings with Flamel will remain with me.   For the moment.   Now what is this hint of yours?"

"That perhaps you should look within, rather than without."

"Philosophy.   I want answers."

Dumbledore inclined his head.   "Do not we all.   Would you care for a cup of tea before you go?"

"No thank you.   But I would like to see my son."

Harry shook his head in disgust.   And has it ever occurred to you that he might not want to see you?  

Dumbledore’s gaze flicked down the hall towards Harry for just a second before returning to Malfoy.   "I’m afraid I can’t oblige you, Lucius.   I would rather not be accused of showing favoritism to a school governor, after all."

"Then perhaps a school governor shall feel himself obliged to tell the other governors exactly how you are endangering the welfare of this school and of its students."   Malfoy’s voice was no louder than it had been, but it had a silky and dangerous undertone that Harry recognized as one Snape often used.   "Perhaps he shall see fit to reveal to the general public that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is now the hiding place of the—"

Dumbledore raised his hands in surrender.   "Very well, I shall send a message to  Gryffindor Tower that Draco is wanted in my office."

"And if he is not in  Gryffindor Tower?"

"Then I am afraid you may have to leave without seeing him.   The castle is large, Lucius, and to search all of it quickly is beyond even my powers."

Malfoy sneered for a moment, then turned and stalked around the corner.   Dumbledore looked down the hall towards Harry and made a shooing motion before he followed.  

Harry slumped against the wall.   I think I understand why Ray likes it better here.  

But what was his dad doing with a bracelet like Ray’s?  

The suspicion about Ray and Zelda wiggled in the back of his mind again, and grew to include other things, stories and ideas from home,  Hagrid’s tale and  Zelda’s human face... he was close to an answer, he could feel it...

"Harry?"

Ron’s whisper shattered the framework of ideas, and the suspicion skittered away, giggling madly.   Harry groaned inwardly and turned to face his friend.   "Yeah?"

"You have to see this.   Come on."

Harry would have argued more, except that Ron got him into the room before he could get any arguments mustered, and once in, he forgot all about it.

"Whoa."

"And that’s not all of it," said Ron excitedly, as Harry stared at the tall, golden-framed mirror.   "It shows stuff — it might even be the future — it showed me wearing the Head Boy badge, and holding the Quidditch Cup!"

"I don’t think it’s the future, though," said Neville.   "Not unless I suddenly get good at Potions."

Harry stepped closer to the mirror, into which Ray was currently staring.   "Oy, Ray, budge up," he said.  

Ray didn’t move.  

"My turn, mate."

"Just a second," Ray said hoarsely.   He brought his hand up and stared at it, then into the mirror at its reflection.  Zelda, standing behind him, whined softly as he turned away.  "There, I’m done."

Harry took  Ray’s place and gazed into the mirror.   For a moment he saw only himself, then other figures solidified into place — Padfoot and Letha and Meghan first, arranged on his left, Meghan making a face at him.   A moment later, four other figures took their places on his other side — a man, a woman, and two children —

My dream family.   Harry squinted, but their faces were still unclear, as if blurred by long distance.   I wonder why I haven’t dreamed of them much here at Hogwarts?  The figures were drawing near, the faces becoming more distinct, in a moment or two he’d be able to see them clearly for the first time ever —

Here comes Filch!

Harry tore himself away from the mirror and dashed out of the room, Ron and Neville hard on his heels.   Ray seemed to be missing, and Harry caught his breath after a frantic three-floor run to ask Zelda where he’d gone.  

I don’t know.   Zelda scuffled her paws on the stone floor uneasily.   He’s shutting me out, and I don’t like it.  

"I’m sure he’s fine."   Harry took a few deep breaths to get himself back under control.   "I just hope he didn’t go back to the Tower.   His dad sent a message there that he wanted to see him."

His dad what?   Oh — you mean — yes, that’s right.   I didn’t know Mr. Malfoy wanted to see him.   Zelda shook briefly as if she were wet.   I hope he didn’t go back to the Tower too.  That would be bad right now, that would be very bad...

Harry bit down on his urge to ask why.   That question, around Ray and Zelda, rarely had an easy answer.  

And I’m starting to wonder if it ever has a true one either.  


Ray stood on top of the Astronomy Tower, watching his father walk down the path towards the gates, keeping his anger internal with disciplines drilled into him from babyhood.  

I will not let you win, he vowed.   I will not let you have the last word forever.  Someday I will laugh in your face, and tell you exactly what I think of you, and why.   Someday I won’t have to lie anymore.   Someday I will dance on my stupid bracelet, and yours too, and Mother’s.    

The image he had seen in the mirror rose in his mind’s eye, unbidden.  The snowy wind whipped up around him, but he barely noticed.  

Someday it will be true.  

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