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Chapter 31: Unforgiven

"What’s what?" asked Ron, craning his neck to look where Harry was looking. Then he froze, staring. "Hagrid — that’s not..."

Hagrid nodded, beaming.

"Wherever did you get it?" asked Hermione, staring too, as was the rest of the Pride.

"I won it." Hagrid poked the fire a bit, piling coals around the enormous black egg. "Down at the Hog’s Head las’ night. Had a few drinks, a game o’ cards..."

"And your opponent just happened to have a dragon egg in his pocket?" said Draco skeptically.

Hagrid shrugged. "Yeh get all kinds at the Hog’s Head."

"You’re going to have a dragon?" Meghan’s face was aglow, and not just from the heat. "Can I see him when he hatches?"

"O’ course yeh can. Yeh all can. I’ll let yeh know when he starts hatchin’ out. Yeh won’ tell nobody, will yeh?" Hagrid’s face was suddenly anxious. "Yeh wouldn’ do that?"

Harry glanced at the Pride. Their eyes were all on him. He was clearly the one expected to answer. His mind tumbled through all that he knew about Hagrid, and all that he thought he knew, from his first visit to this house, before he’d been four, to the memories he’d seen in Tom Riddle’s diary only a month or two ago.

His hand rose to press against his chest, and he felt the engravings on his pendants. Hagrid’s symbol on the pendants was a dragon.

He looked up into Hagrid’s face. "We won’t tell anyone," he said, holding out his hand. "Pride honor."

"Now, that I trust." Hagrid chuckled and shook Harry’s hand gently, for him, which meant Harry was only dizzy for a few seconds afterwards.

xXxXx

"Let’s see," said Ron, ticking points off on his fingers. "We have homework and tests. We have Quidditch. We have people getting Petrified. And now we have Hagrid and his Norwegian Ridgeback. Can we get anything else to worry about, here?"

"Be careful what you wish for, Ron," said Ginny, scratching her nose with her quill. "How do you spell antimony?"

Hermione spelled it out for her. The Pride had gathered around a table in the common room, most of them doing homework, Meghan reading a book called Household Healing Hints, which was almost half as big as she was.

"Anyway, I’m not worried about Quidditch," said Harry, flipping through his Charms book to find the section he wanted. "We have a good strong team, we play well together, we should do just fine."

"And no one’s been Petrified in months," said Neville. "Maybe the Heir’s given up."

Or maybe he just has a new pet to play with. No one wanted to say it. Saying it was too close to believing it, and somehow, the question of whether Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin, and had opened the Chamber of Secrets, had been dropped in this more pressing, urgent need. The Pride had come together to help a friend. It was what they did.

"But we do need to do something about that dragon," said Draco quietly, after checking to see that no one was eavesdropping on them. "I did a little reading. Norwegian Ridgebacks start breathing serious fire as early as a month old. The author of the book recommended keeping them in a paddock at least a hundred feet on a side, well away from anything flammable. There’s no way Hagrid’s going to be able to pull off anything like that."

"He’ll be lucky if the thing fits in his house after a couple of weeks," said Ron. "Charlie says baby dragons grow like anything."

Harry felt as if he’d received a mild electrical shock. Ginny’s head jerked up from her essay. Their eyes met for an instant before Ginny looked away. "Ron," she said, "you’re brilliant."

"What?"

"We can send the dragon to Charlie," said Harry. "It’s what he does, isn’t it? Taking care of dragons?"

"Hagrid loved Charlie when he was here," said Ginny. "He’ll know his baby’s in good hands."

Hermione snorted, closing her book. "In the first place," she said, "you can’t just dump the dragon on Charlie. You’d have to ask, and it takes time for an owl to get to Romania and back. In the second place, how would you get it there? You can’t exactly send a dragon by owl post. And in the third place, why don’t you just take this to Dumbledore, or to Padfoot and Letha? They could get it sorted out right away, and we wouldn’t have to risk getting into all this trouble."

Everyone stared at her. Draco broke the silence first. "You’re in a funny mood. Someone eat all your Ice Mice again?"

"This isn’t funny. What if it turns out we’re actually helping the Heir of Slytherin? We should take this to the teachers and get to what we ought to be doing. Like getting ready for exams."

"I don’t notice anyone here slacking off work," said Harry, waving at the books and parchment all over the table. "No one’s marks have dropped. And the reason we’re not reporting this is because we said we wouldn’t."

"No, you said we wouldn’t."

"I pledged Pride honor, Hermione. Are you going to break that?"

A pause stretched, grew uncomfortable. "No," said Hermione just before it got unbearable. "But I think you should." She shut her book emphatically. "Before this gets us all into serious trouble." She marched off towards the girls’ dormitories.

"She’s being even weirder than usual," said Ron, watching Hermione disappear up the stairs.

"She did have some good points, though," said Ginny. "We’ll need to get in touch with Charlie about this. And give some thought to how to get the dragon there."

"It’ll be small at first," said Draco. "If we can get this done quickly, it could go in a crate, like people hang under their broomsticks."

"So all we need is someone who’s going to Romania," said Harry. "Someone who knows Charlie and can take the dragon to him, and someone who won’t tell."

"That seems like quite a lot for one person," said Luna.

"I know who can do it," said Meghan, emerging from behind her book. "Cousin Tonks."

"Cousin... oh, of course!" Draco looked chagrined that he hadn’t thought of this. "She’s Charlie’s girlfriend, she’s of age, she goes to Romania sometimes on the weekends to visit him... of course, she’s perfect!"

"If she’ll do it," said Harry doubtfully. "She might not want to smuggle a dragon around, since she’s a trainee Auror."

"So write to her," said Ginny. "And to Charlie. We should do that as soon as we can, tonight even."

"But the dragon’s not even hatched yet," protested Ron.

"Every day we delay now is another day we have to worry about someone finding that thing in Hagrid’s hut," said Harry. "Do you want to see him get sacked? Even Dumbledore won’t be able to overlook this one..."

Dumbledore. Of course. His heart lifted suddenly. Dumbledore trusted Hagrid.

But Dumbledore trusted Quirrell and Lockhart, too...

Not like he trusts Hagrid. Not with his secrets. Not with his life.

Dumbledore wouldn’t let Hagrid stay here if there was even a chance Hagrid might hurt someone. Hagrid can’t be the one who opened the Chamber. He just can’t be.

"Of course I don’t want to see him get sacked," Ron was saying as Harry became aware of his surroundings again. "But I’d rather not get expelled, either." He sighed, pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, and started scribbling on it. "Dear Charlie," he muttered. "How are you? I am fine, except that I have a problem. Someone I know has an illegal dragon..."

xXxXx

Dear Ron,

Thanks for the letter. Fallen into evil company, have you? Well done. Don’t let Percy drag you down. I’d love to take the Ridgeback, and I think your idea for getting him here is fine. I hope you’ve checked with her, though, Tonks can have a temper if you promise her into things without letting her know. (Thanks also for getting her over here — I didn’t see her at Easter, and I miss her.)

Hope to hear from you soon,

Charlie

xXxXx

Draco —

Sure, why not? I love being an accessory to crime, and we can’t let Hagrid get sacked (I assume that’s who it is, no one else at Hogwarts would be quite that stupid). Shall we say the night after the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, midnight, top of the Astronomy Tower? Oh yes, and thank you for getting me an excuse to go see Charlie. It’s awfully nice of you.

See you then,

Tonks

xXxXx

A week and a half before the match, Harry was shaken awake by Draco. His brother wordlessly handed him a strip of parchment with two words in Hagrid’s handwriting.

It’s hatching.

Harry catapulted out of bed and started throwing his clothes on. Draco woke Neville, and Harry went to work on Ron.

"How’re we going to get the girls?" asked Ron quietly as they tiptoed down the stairs.

"Like this," said Harry, and held out his arm for Hedwig, who was waiting in the common room. He handed her the parchment. "Wake Meghan," he told her. "Once she’s up, go to Hermione."

Hedwig hooted softly. Harry tossed her out the open window. "Now we just wait," he said.

It wasn’t long before Meghan came scurrying down the stairs, followed by a yawning Ginny and an excited Luna. Harry was a little surprised — this was the most emotion he’d ever seen the blond girl exhibit.

Draco smiled at Luna. "You look happy."

"I’ve never seen a dragon hatch before. Daddy will love hearing about it."

The boys exchanged nervous looks. "Er, Luna, that might not be a good idea," said Harry. "Hagrid could get in trouble if anyone knew he had a dragon."

"Don’t worry," said Luna serenely, fastening her outdoor cloak. "I won’t tell him until after the dragon’s gone."

Draco shrugged. "It’s the best we’re probably going to get," he muttered in Harry’s ear.

Hermione came down the girls’ stairs, disapproval in every line of her body. "You’re really going to go and watch this, then?" she asked.

"No, we just thought we’d all get up early and go for a run," retorted Ron. "What do you think?"

"I think you’re all mad."

"Are you coming or not?" interrupted Harry. He was getting very tired of Hermione’s new holier-than-thou attitude.

"Yes. If only to make sure you don’t do anything stupid — anything else stupid," she corrected herself pointedly.

Harry turned away from her, rolled his eyes pointedly at the rest of the Pride, and led the way out the portrait hole.

Hagrid answered his door at once, looking disheveled but very excited. "He’s nearly out," he said. "Started hatchin’ late last night, but I didn’ want yeh all sneakin’ out after dark, an’ I was pretty sure he wouldn’ get around ter actually breakin’ through till this mornin’..."

The girls drew up chairs, the boys stood around the table. Hermione had lost her veneer of disinterest and was staring at the wildly rocking egg as avidly as anyone. The cracks in the shell widened even as they watched.

Neville jumped back as something punched through the shell, straight towards him. A back leg, maybe, Harry thought. Something else popped out of the opposite end, sending chips of shell flying towards Ginny, who caught one and yelped a little. "Hot," she said, tossing it quickly onto the table and brushing off her hands.

"There’s his little nose!" Hagrid sounded awestruck in a way Harry had never heard before, though he suspected if he asked his Pack-parents could provide examples. He wasn’t about to ask, though, because he was sure at least one of the examples would involve him. He knew perfectly well under what conditions he had made his first visit to Hogwarts.

The entire shell exploded. The Pride ducked, covering their heads with their cloaks. When they came back up, the baby dragon was lying flat on the table, looking around. It was black and gangling, with huge spiny wings and a long, thin body. Its eyes were orange and looking at the group hungrily. On its brow Harry could see a pair of stubby horns.

"It’s a boy," said Hagrid mistily. "Isn’t he beau’iful?" He hauled a large bucket up to the table. Harry caught the mixed smells of strong alcohol and blood. He recoiled a little, and he wasn’t the only one. Draco was turning faintly green, and Meghan was edging away, looking as if she might be sick.

"Ron, get me a saucer?" Hagrid requested. Ron hurried to the cupboard and found what Hagrid wanted, handing it to him from an arm’s length away. Hagrid filled the saucer with the mixture in the bucket, then set it in front of the dragon. It sniffed at it and sneezed, sending sparks flying and igniting the liquid for a brief moment, until Hagrid hastily blew it out.

"It’s nearly eight-thirty," said Hermione. "We’ll be missed."

Harry checked his watch and almost swore. She was right. "Hagrid, we’ve really got to go. We’ll be back later to see how you’re doing..." He trailed off. Hagrid wasn’t listening. He looked as if nothing short of demolishing the house around his ears would get his attention, and maybe not even that. He was totally fixated on the dragon, now eagerly lapping up the horrid stuff in the saucer.

"We’ll tell him about Charlie later," said Draco quietly, steering Meghan and Luna toward the door. "Come on, let’s get some breakfast."

"You really want it?" asked Ron, gulping as the door swung shut behind him. "After smelling that?"

"No, but I have to eat."

"Why?"

"Because two of our teachers will notice if I don’t."

Hermione, behind them, gave a loud sniff. Clearly, she was still of the mind to let the Pack-parents deal with Hagrid’s dragon.

Harry turned to face her, letting the rest of the Pride pass him by. "What you think of this is your own problem," he said quietly. "But if you tell, you’re breaking Pride honor."

"You had no right to pledge it," retorted Hermione. "Not without checking with all of us."

"What was I supposed to do, call a vote?" Despite good intentions, Harry was starting to get angry. "If you had something to say, why didn’t you just say it?"

"When you’d already said we wouldn’t tell? Do I look like a tattletale?"

"Yes." Harry heard the word coming out of his mouth and cursed inwardly. He would have given anything to take it back, but it was too late.

Hermione was pale with fury. Without saying a word, she shoved him hard, then ran towards the castle.

xXxXx

"All right, today we’re going to finish our talismans," announced Aletha in Defense Against the Dark Arts on Friday. "Does everyone have their potion?"

Flasks were produced from within schoolbags. Snape had grudgingly agreed to make room on his curriculum for a simple Protection Potion, which would glow if something with evil intent towards its maker came within a few yards. Sirius had asked, but the students’ potions hadn’t glowed when Snape came near. He supposed petty nastiness didn’t really count as evil.

"I’ll pass back your frames," said Sirius, walking through the room and placing the small wooden disks in front of each student. Aletha had found several runes for protection and given the students their choice of which one to etch into the disk with their wands. They’d had a good long discussion on the values of cutting out the actual lines of the rune, or cutting away the extra wood, so that the rune was all that was left. Most of the class had ended up cutting out the lines of their rune, since it was less work, but a few of them had chosen to cut away the excess wood instead.

The students had also been allowed to choose the color of the ink with which they inscribed smaller runes around the outside of their disk. These runes would tell them if they were being menaced by a human being, a Dark magical creature which could think, or just an animal which thought they would make a good snack. The choices were as varied as the students themselves, and some of them made Sirius laugh. He would never have guessed, for instance, that Seamus Finnegan liked aquamarine.

"Sir, what are the cords for?" asked Dean Thomas, picking up the length of string Sirius had left at his place, along with the disk.

"You need some way to keep the thing on you, don’t you?" Sirius sat down on the desk, off to one side so that Aletha, sitting behind it, could still see the class.

"What do we do with the potion?" asked Lavender Brown. The students had learned quickly that as long as they didn’t all shout at once, the Blacks didn’t care much about hand-raising.

Sirius winced. "Oops. I am an idiot."

"Obviously, since you’re only figuring that out now," said Aletha, making the class laugh. She waved her wand, creating ceramic dishes in front of each student. "Put your frame and your string into the dish and pour enough potion over them to cover. You should use about half of it. I’ll set a timer for ten minutes. When it’s up, bring your frame up here and pour the potion off into the waste bucket." She conjured that as well. "While you’re waiting, we’ll practice the spell you’ll use at that point."

"After that spell goes on, you give them a second soaking in the potion," said Sirius. "Then you put the string on, one final spell, and they’re done. So, get them soaking, so we can start working on the spells."

The students went to work. Sirius frowned, watching them. Something didn’t feel quite right. Something about the way they were sitting...

It was strictly boy-girl, he realized. Hermione, instead of partnering with Harry or Draco as usual, was sitting on the opposite side of the room from them, next to Colleen Lamb. That in itself was fine — the girl could use a bit of help, she was so timid she almost never did anything right, for simple lack of trying — but it indicated a serious argument among the cubs.

"Yes, I’d noticed," said Aletha quietly when he pointed this out. "She hasn’t been sitting with them at meals, either. I don’t think it’s still just their quarrel from Easter. Something’s up."

"Should we get involved, or no?"

Aletha frowned. "I’m not sure, really. They’ve always worked these things out themselves with no trouble. I think we should give it some time. Say, another week. If they haven’t made up by then, we’ll give them a hand."

"All right." Sirius turned back to the classroom. "Everyone ready?"

Everyone was.

"All right, wands out. The incantation for the first spell is Insignis Malduco..."

xXxXx

Hagrid was a bit sad to think about giving up his little Norbert so soon after getting him, but he agreed that sending the dragon to Charlie was the smartest thing to do. "An’ I’ll’ve had this week’r so," he said, sniffling happily as Norbert batted an empty brandy bottle around the floor of his hut. "He’s so sweet."

Ron dodged a sweep of Norbert’s spiky tail. "About as sweet as a Cockroach Cluster," he muttered to Harry. "At least no one will spot him by accident."

Neville had told Hagrid about the trick he’d learned, to make things less visible to people who shouldn’t see them, and Hagrid had agreed to have Norbert hidden. Experimentation had proved that the magic wore off within twenty-four hours, so Neville renewed it before he went to bed at night and when he got up in the morning, making Norbert invisible to everyone but the Pride, Hagrid, and Fang.

Hermione was still avoiding everyone. Harry hadn’t even been able to corner her long enough to apologize. The one time he’d tried, she’d stuck her fingers in her ears and hummed loudly so that she couldn’t hear him. He’d had to give it up.

I’ll try again on Sunday, he thought. After we’re well rid of Norbert.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the skinny face at the window.

xXxXx

Dear sir,

I’ve looked, but I didn’t see anything like what you said should be there. Do you want me to say that I did?

xXxXx

Heavens, yes, boy. I didn’t think I raised such a fool. It must be there, somewhere, but they’ve no grounds to search unless there’s a complaint. Send it immediately.

Have you anything to report on the matter I asked you about?

xXxXx

Sir,

No, there’s been nothing. No communication, no word. The letter you wanted is enclosed.

xXxXx

The morning of the Quidditch match was fair and mild, and everyone was excited. Wood kept urging the team to eat, but Harry was having trouble swallowing. He kept looking down the table at Hermione, who seemed engrossed in her book. Not even seeing Padfoot and Letha decked out in Gryffindor colors could lift his spirits.

I have to try to talk to her. He set aside his half-eaten bacon and got up.

"That’s the spirit, Harry, early to the field!" declared Wood. "Come on, everyone, let’s all go!"

Fred and George grumbled a little, having not yet finished their eggs, but Wood swept them along in his wake, ignoring Harry’s half-formed protests that he had something else to do. Ron and Draco, bringing up the rear, appropriated a stack of toast and a dish of marmalade on the way out, earning everyone’s thanks as they passed it out in the locker room.

"I wanted to try to apologize to Hermione," muttered Harry to Draco as he pulled on his red Quidditch robes. "But Wood thought I was headed for the field, so I never got a chance."

"Don’t worry, Harry, she’ll still be there after the match. Maybe seeing Gryffindor win will sweeten her disposition a little."

"She won’t see it," said Ron, shaking his head — he couldn’t understand why anyone would voluntarily miss a Quidditch match. "She was headed upstairs, last I saw. Professor Black went after her."

"There, see?" Draco straightened Harry’s collar. "Padfoot’ll talk her around. He’s good at it."

"And if he can’t, Moony and Danger will." Harry smiled. His Pack-parents would be in the stands, he knew, cheering him on. He picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand and sat down on a bench to wait for the rest of the team. Idly he checked his watch — it was 10:57.

xXxXx

Hermione sat alone in the library.

I don’t care about them, or their stupid game. They can all go fly into a tornado for all I care.

She sniffled.

They think I’m a tattletale. They think I’d give them away. I never would. I just said it might be a good idea to get some help. The Pack-parents wouldn’t get us in trouble — they understand about keeping things secret for your friends. They’d help us.

Another sniffle.

Harry shouldn’t have pledged Pride-honor without asking me. I’m the alpha female. He doesn’t care about me anymore. None of them care about me. And I don’t care about them, so that works out fine.

A third sniffle, bigger than the first two.

"Neenie," said a man’s voice from behind her.

Hermione’s anger exploded. "Don’t call me that!" She spun and hurled a book at the offender.

Padfoot caught it easily in one hand and set it aside. "That’s enough," he said. "Why don’t you tell me what’s going on."

"I can’t!" Madam Pince was down at the Quidditch pitch, so were all the other students, no one was around to hear her shout. Which also meant no one had heard her detested nickname, but that wasn’t the point. "I can’t tell anyone! Harry was stupid and swore Pride-honor we wouldn’t tell!"

"Hmm." Padfoot sat down opposite her at the table. "Pride-honor, eh? Do you want to tell whatever this is?"

"Yes. No. I don’t know."

"If I swear not to tell anyone, do you think you can tell me then? Pack-honor?"

Hermione rubbed her eyes. She hated situations like this.

"I hate seeing you sad this way," said Padfoot quietly. "And I think it would make you feel better to tell it. I might even be able to help. It’s what I’m here for."

Hermione finally looked up. "Do you promise not to get anyone in trouble?" she asked.

"I’ll do my best," said Padfoot. "Shall we say, I won’t punish anyone unless they really, truly, deserve it."

Hermione nodded. "All right." She sat up and took a deep breath. "It might surprise you," she warned.

"Very little surprises me any more," said Padfoot dryly.

"Hagrid has a dragon."

Padfoot froze. "That’s going to do it."

xXxXx

Harry shivered a little, and wondered why. He wasn’t cold, or at least he hadn’t been a moment before...

Draco turned around. Through the fabric of his robes, Harry saw a dim light glowing.

The pendants!

He plunged a hand inside his robes and pulled the chain out. It was cooler than it should have been — he always wore it next to his skin — and one of the carvings was glowing. Draco saw what he was doing and blanched, pulling out his own hastily. "Who is it?" he asked, fumbling through his own.

"I’m not sure." The tiny carving was feline, with large paws, a short tail, and tufts of fur atop each ear. Harry couldn’t recall the name of the thing, nor who it meant. Hastily he ran through the Pride in his mind.

Cat is Hermione, fox is Draco, doe for Meghan, hawk for Ron, owl for Luna, Neville’s the demiguise...

A crash drew his attention. Ron was sitting on the floor, chalk-white. "Ginny," he whispered.

"What?" Fred turned his head.

"Ginny’s in trouble!" Ron was pulling himself up. "Something’s happened to her, she’s in some kind of danger—"

The locker room door burst open. Luna, Meghan, and Neville crashed in. Ron wheeled to face them. "Where’s Ginny?" he demanded.

"She didn’t come with us," said Luna. "She said she was going to use the bathroom."

Ron cursed, staring down at his pendants. "There’s a million bathrooms in that castle — I wish we had some way of knowing where she is!"

A flare of red light made everyone exclaim. One of the jewels in Ron’s pendants had flashed, and was now glowing steadily. The Quidditch team was staring wide-eyed, the Pride looked frightened and shaken. Harry felt fear creeping up his spine like a snake. Ginny was part of his Pride, if anything happened to her it was his fault...

"Don’t panic," he ordered, as much to himself as to the others. "Let’s get up to the castle and start looking for her."

"You can’t leave now!" protested Wood. "We’ve got the game!"

"To hell with the game," said George, dropping his broomstick. "My sister’s in trouble."

"I’ll get Percy," said Fred. "Meet you at the castle."

"Why did it do that?" asked Ron as the Pride dashed out of the locker room, a step or so behind George. "Flash red that way?"

"Hold on," said Draco, skidding to a halt. "I think I may know. Turn around, Ron."

"Turn around? My sister’s going to die!"

"It’ll just take a second. Turn around and face the other way."

Grumbling, Ron turned. The light from the jewel dimmed to almost nothing.

"Now face the castle."

The light brightened again.

"It’s leading us to Ginny," said Harry, suddenly understanding. "Like playing Hot and Cold. The brighter the light, the closer to her we are."

"Come on!" Ron led the way at a run, the gold medallions bouncing against his chest at every stride. Harry glanced over his shoulder and saw two people with red hair — Fred and Percy, he was sure — running flat out across the grass.

The Pride had just gotten inside the castle when the pendants went icy all at once. Draco was the first to get a good look, and swore when he did. "It’s Hermione."

"No, it’s Dadfoot!" Meghan was trembling.

"It’s both," said Harry grimly, spreading his pendants so that everyone could see the three glowing figures. "They’re probably together. Come on, Ron, which way?"

"Er, I don’t know." Ron spun in a circle. The jewel’s light barely flickered.

"What about up?" demanded Draco.

Ron lifted the pendants from his chest and held them above his head. The glow brightened considerably.

Percy crashed through the door and dashed past them without acknowledging that they existed, taking the marble stairs two at a time. Fred followed him more slowly, rubbing at his side. "Never seen him like this," he panted. "You lot go on. I’ll catch up."

The Pride started up the stairs. "She’s not down here!" called George’s voice from down one of the ground floor corridors.

"I’ll check the dungeons!" Fred called back.

"Think we should tell them what we know?" panted Draco to Harry.

"No. We might be wrong."

On the second floor, Ron’s jewel indicated a corridor rather than the stairs. He charged around the corner and stopped dead. Harry crashed into him from behind, Neville slammed into him, and they all fell over. Draco just managed to avoid falling over them himself, and caught Meghan as she skidded to a halt.

Percy was just straightening up, holding a limp Ginny in his arms.

"No," moaned Ron. "No... Ginny..."

"She’s alive," said Percy in a very flat voice. "Just unconscious. Move, please, she needs the hospital wing."

Filled with relief, Harry scooted aside.

"Everything is normal again," said Luna. It took Harry a moment to realize she meant the pendants. Sure enough, the metal was a normal temperature again, and the carvings had stopped glowing.

"Then Dadfoot’s OK!" said Meghan brightly. "And Hermione too!"

"And I have to get back to the pitch," said Harry. "Wood’s going to be furious, you saw him..."

Chattering in relief, the Pride started down the stairs. Draco was the first to the bottom. "Moony!" Harry heard him say happily. "We had a scare — do you know what happened?"

"Yes, actually, I do," said Moony, coming into Harry’s field of view. "Meghan, come here."

Meghan ran down the last few stairs, looking curiously at Moony. He embraced her gently, then took her hand and led her down the hall. "Come on, all of you," he said over his shoulder.

"Something’s wrong," muttered Draco.

Harry nodded. They’d learned when they were still very young how to see what people were saying with their posture and tones of voice, as well as their words. Moony was as good as shouting that he had bad news to tell.

"I wish I could find the right words to tell you this," said Moony, stopping outside the hospital wing door. "There’s been another attack. Two people were Petrified."

"But..." Ron protested. "Ginny was all limp. Petrified people go stiff. And there wasn’t anyone else there."

Moony shook his head. "I’m not talking about Ginny, Ron. We’re not sure yet what happened to her. Two other people. They were found together near the library."

Harry’s hand went to his chest as a conversation played back in his head. "Padfoot and Hermione," he said with a horrible certainty, wishing with all his might that he was wrong.

Moony nodded slowly.

Meghan shrieked, a terrible, high-pitched wail that seemed to go on forever. Neville seized her shoulders, turned her to face him, and shook her once, hard. "Stop it!" he shouted. "You can’t do that!"

"Why not?" cried Meghan. "Why not?"

"Because he wouldn’t want you to." Neville was very close to Meghan now, looking straight down into her face. "Because it won’t help anything. You have to be strong. Your mum needs you to be strong. She can’t take care of you and herself too."

Meghan hiccupped. "Who will take care of me, then?" she asked in a very small voice.

Neville glanced over Meghan’s shoulder at Moony, who gave him a tiny nod. "I will," he said. "If you’ll let me."

Meghan gulped and nodded, then hid her face in Neville’s robes. Draco was standing very still, one arm around Luna, and for the life of him Harry couldn’t decide if she was comforting him, or he her, or both. Ron’s freckles were standing out as if they glowed. "Can we see them?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes." Moony turned and opened the doors of the hospital wing. Harry walked in, feeling as though he walked into a nightmare.

Danger and Letha sat together on a bed, Letha sobbing into Danger’s shoulder. Meghan detached herself from Neville and ran to the women, who made room for her. Neville sat down in a chair next to the bed.

On the bed opposite them lay Padfoot, his left arm outstretched and his hand curled around his wand, his right curved across his chest, cradling Hermione to him. Her arms were around him, her head turned so that she was looking the same way he was. Both of them had expressions of shock frozen on their faces. Both looked as if they’d been carved from stone.

There was no question now that it was Luna who was comforting Draco. He was paler than usual and shaking. She guided him carefully to a bed and helped him sit down, and began to stroke his hair. Harry turned away. It wasn’t his place to tell them what to do.

Percy stepped out from behind a screen farther down the room. Harry suspected Ginny was lying back there. He caught Ron’s eye and beckoned to him peremptorily. Ron took one last look at Hermione, then walked quickly past Harry and Moony to where Percy was, and they disappeared behind the screens together.

Moony turned to look at Harry. One hand rose and made a small beckoning motion.

Harry was sure he broke a speed record getting to Moony’s side. Just at the moment, he didn’t care who might see him or what they would say. He wanted to be held. He wanted to shut out the vision of his godfather and his sister lying completely still with their eyes glassy and staring.

And we never made up. She was still mad at me. I let her get Petrified being mad at me.

It was his turn to hide his face in someone’s robes. He wasn’t crying, quite, but he was sure that anything else going wrong, anything, would turn him into a wreck.

"I have to get back down to the pitch," he muttered, pulling away. "The game..."

Moony shook his head. "It’s been cancelled," he said. "All after-school activities have been cancelled. You’re to be escorted everywhere by teachers, and to stay in your dormitories unless you’re in class or at meals."

Harry nodded in understanding. Something odd was happening. Instead of this news making him feel worse, making him cry and scream as he had been so sure would happen, it seemed to light a fire within him, clearing away his emotions. His mind was working at top speed, unhampered by fear or sorrow.

"It won’t help," he said, seeing this very clearly. "Having teachers along won’t help, will it?"

Moony did not reply, looking instead at Padfoot’s unmoving form. Harry knew his godfather’s skills with a wand. He was fast, accurate, and powerful. The dueling club had continued to meet on Wednesday evenings, and other teachers had attended from time to time. They always showed off their own dueling skills, facing off with Padfoot, and he had never lost a match. He had tied several, but never out-and-out lost.

Yet he had not been able to prevent himself and Hermione from being Petrified.

"No," said Moony finally, answering Harry’s question. "It won’t. I don’t know if anything will help. Not until, or unless, we find out what’s doing this."

Harry’s eyes landed on Padfoot’s wand. "What spells did he use?" he asked. "Maybe that would tell you what he was fighting."

Moony made a sound of frustration. "I should have thought of that."

Harry let his Pack-father go as Moony pulled out his own wand, walked over to Padfoot’s side, and touched his wand’s tip to Padfoot’s. "Prior Incantato," he said.

Harry watched as a pair of smoky eyes appeared from the place where the two wands met. They looked bloodshot and painful, and were dripping tears. "What’s that?"

"A Conjunctivitus Curse," said Moony, taking his wand away. "Most often used against dragons, but I’ve never heard of a dragon able to Petrify."

A sudden realization made Harry’s stomach flip-flop. A dragon — Norbert — Tonks is coming tonight!

He looked at his watch. It was not quite five past eleven.

In just over twelve hours, we have to sneak out of here, get Norbert out of Hagrid’s hut, and get him up to the Astronomy Tower. All without being caught. And now we’re not allowed out unless we’re with a teacher.

He gave Moony a small nod, then went up the ward and behind the screen where Ginny lay. Percy and Ron were sitting next to her, and Madam Pomfrey was waving her wand over her. "Finally, a patient I can do something for," Harry heard her say to herself. She turned to the boys. "She’s not injured, not ill, not harmed at all. I’d say she just had some sort of shock that made her lose consciousness. Does she faint easily?"

Ron shook his head. "I’ve never known her to do it before," he said. "Maybe she saw the monster, or whatever it is, from behind."

"Maybe. Whatever the reason, she should be waking up soon..." Madam Pomfrey looked up at the crash of the double doors opening. "Oh, great Merlin. Mr. Weasley, would you please help me control your brothers."

"I can’t control Fred and George," protested Ron. "Nobody can."

"I believe she was speaking to me," said Percy, still in the same flat voice he’d used in the hall. "Stay with her, Ron."

He got up and walked away, Madam Pomfrey beside him, her voice rising. "Keep it down! This is a hospital, not a Quidditch pitch!"

"She should take her own advice," said Harry, slipping behind Ron to take Percy’s chair.

Ginny stirred. Ron leaned forward, hands made into fists on the arms of his chair. "Come on, Ginny," Harry heard him whisper. "Come on, wake up, be all right..."

Ginny’s eyelids fluttered. "Tom?" she said querulously.

"Tom?" repeated Ron. "Ginny, there’s nobody named Tom here."

Ginny’s head turned. "Ron? Harry? Where am I?"

"Hospital wing," said Harry. "Percy found you in the hall. You’d collapsed."

"Collapsed?" Ginny frowned. "Why?"

"She doesn’t know. She thinks you had a shock. What’s the last thing you remember?"

"A shock? I didn’t have a shock. I was coming back from the bathroom, and then I was here."

"What bathroom did you use?" asked Ron.

"Moaning Myrtle’s. The ground floor one was full, and the one on the first floor is miles away, so hers was closest." Ginny closed her eyes, trying to remember. "I was in the bathroom, writing to Tom — I’ve been doing that quite a lot, he’s so friendly and helpful, and he knows so much about everything, and it’s not fair that he’s trapped in that old diary..."

Ron frowned. "How can you write without any quill or ink?"

"I had a quill," said Ginny, making a face at him. "And Tom brings up some of the ink that’s already in the diary for me to use. He’s very considerate. I had just told him that I was on my way out for the Quidditch match, and I was going to try and get Hermione to come with me, and I’d tell him all about it afterwards, when I looked at my watch and saw it was three minutes to eleven so I had to hurry. I shut up the diary and opened the bathroom door..." She stopped.

"And?" prompted Ron.

"And that’s all I remember, until just now. Do you suppose someone attacked me?" Ginny stared at the two boys. "Hit me with a spell from behind, or something?"

"They might have," said Harry. "But why aren’t you Petrified? That seems to be what happens to everyone else."

"Maybe Tom would know. He knows a lot about magic." Ginny rummaged in her pocket, then froze. "It’s not here. His diary’s gone."

"Gone?" Harry and Ron said at the same time.

Ginny was patting herself all over, checking in each of her pockets. "It’s definitely gone," she said worriedly. "Whoever attacked me took the diary."

Harry scowled. This made what he had come to tell Ron even more important. "We have to den," he said. "Now."

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