Lynn's Fanfic

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Hermione, not having been given an option in the matter, picked up the tail end of the trio and moved hurriedly to catch the now fading light emitted by Ron’s wand, while vowing that at a later date, she would come and further investigate her find – alone if need be!

Chapter 4

It had taken them quite a while even moving at a steady pace with all the interruptions, to get back to where GlausHarmon was stationed. Ron and Harry had flatly refused to take note of any further ‘delays’ and Hermione had fallen off into silence for the remainder of their trek.

 

Finally, they edged their way up to the mouth of the tunnel. They had a few seconds to take in the large proportions of the oblong chamber that stood before them. The far ends were notably dark and their vision didn’t reach far enough into the darkness to clearly define either end. Neither did the light reach the height of the roof, although a fair extent of the immediately opposing wall was visible on which was carved a large ornate pattern. The pattern was raised from the rock face, and it scaled the lit heights of the wall, although it was partially concealed by the chamber’s current occupant. The pattern itself was very distinctive and unmatched within the chamber itself. Certainly the intricacy of its design was in stark contrast to the remainder of the visible chamber which consisted of rock, worn not only by the passage of time and long use, but by some other significant force. Whomever or whatever had constructed the cavity, had chosen to leave the naturally occurring contours, although they had been smoothed to a mirror-like finish.

 

The trio was still a little hesitant to approach the magnificence that was the dragon. All three stood rooted to the spot, just inside the tunnel mouth as GlausHarmon turned his mighty golden head and probing eyes onto them.

 

“Ah the three adventurers…come in come in – don’t stand in the doorway.” GlausHarmon said cordially, and almost as if reading their minds he finished with, “I can assure each one of you that had I wanted to ‘ingest’ you, you would have been devoured on our first meeting while you were still under the invisibility cloak!” A chuckle erupted from within the dragon. Three pairs of eyes that had been focused intently on the dragon, widened considerably as that mental image solidified in their minds. GlausHarmon continued in a consoling tone, “Now, now I was just teasing, I don’t eat fellow Gryffindors…”

 

All three adventurers hadn’t realized that they had been holding their breath and exhaled quickly. Ron muttered “Well, goblin’s gnobs that’s a relief!”

 

Ron had only seconds to enjoy that brief respite because whatever consolation GlausHarmon’s previous statement had provided for the trio, it dissolved when he commented, “…may have sampled a Slytherin or two in my time…” the dragon erupted in a fit of snorting laughter at his own mirth …smoke and heat filled the air. A few moments passed with his renewed eruption then he quieted. Then he noted most perceptively, “Ah…I see my humour isn’t helping to make you feel at home.”

 

Not really keen on entering the cavernous chamber, Harry tried to address GlausHarmon from the doorway. “GlausHarmon, I wondered if you might answer some of our questions?” Harry felt a strange warmth pass over him and a slight tingle of kinship burgeoned inside him for the formidable dragon. He couldn’t explain this sudden change of heart and so he didn’t try as he found himself inching forward into the cavern.

 

“Ah yes, Mr. Potter. I imagine that you have thought of a fair few questions,” one of GlausHarmon’s powerful forepaws motioned grandly in an arc as he continued, “but please come in and make yourselves comfortable.” GlausHarmon’s large head darted suddenly toward the tunnel opening and he stopped directly in front of Ron, inches from his person.

 

Ron quaked on the spot, but couldn’t move because Hermione was tucked slightly in behind him and he would have knocked her over to take a sudden step back. Ron closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable pain of being flamed to a crisp or eaten.

 

GlausHarmon simply sniffed. “The house elves were generous Mr. Weasley, I’m glad you thought to plan ahead – very important where matters of the stomach are concerned.”

 

With a slightly faint voice Ron asked the question “Whose stomach?” He gulped audibly, “Yours or mine?”

 

The Dragon merely chuckled.

 

Ron pryed opened his clamped eyelids and having gone from being eaten to validated in seconds, he exhaled. Next, he turned and gave Hermione a very condescending snort!

 

If the Dragon was amused, he said nothing but turned his attention to Hermione, “Welcome back Miss Granger, I want to congratulate you on not only noting the illusion in the tunnel, but your cool use of logic to disperse it, well done!

 

Hermione shouldered past Ron with an ‘hrmpf!’ and immediately set about looking for a comfortable place from which to conduct her discussion with GlausHarmon.

 

GlausHarmon could restrain himself no longer and chuckled rather uproariously.

 

Hermione walked to where Harry had found a two tier stone outcropping. It resembled a roughly hewn table and a bench seat. She threw her things down and sat next to Harry.

 

Harry called to Ron, “Come on Ron, bring the food, I’m hungry!” To which, Ron complied.

 

Hermione inquired politely, “GlausHarmon, would you care to join us?” Then she hesitated a moment before she continued, “I mean, I realize that our portions would do little to satisfy your appetite, but we would gladly share.”

 

GlausHarmon was silent momentarily then he replied, “You are very kind and also quite correct Miss Granger, that my appetite is somewhat greater than you could provide for; however, it’s been years since anyone snuck me at taste of treacle pudding. Oh to taste that singularly delicious pudding again…you wouldn’t by chance have any would you? I would absolutely delight in a small sampling!”

 

Ron looked up sadly at the Dragon, “Ummm, no sorry, we didn’t bring any – but I’ll be sure to remember for next time!”

 

GlausHarmon sighed, “Ah what a shame, well no matter. Thank you just the same. I’ll look forward to tasting some again in the near future.” Ron was sure that GlausHarmon had given him a wink.

 

Something occurred to Harry, “What did you mean when you said ‘It’s been a long time since someone snuck you a piece’?”

 

“Why Mr. Potter, do you think that you have been my only visitors down through the ages? As a matter of fact, you resemble the very persons who were so adept at sneaking bits of pudding.”

 

Harry immediately made the connection, “You knew my father?”

 

“Well, now that you ask, yes!” The Dragon continued amiably, “James, Sirius, Remus and ahhh…lovely Lily. They used to come and visit often. They came in answer to the Call. They enjoyed their visits here and so they returned. They were unable to conclude all the tests before…” the Dragon became suddenly quiet and he bowed his great head.

 

“Before what?” Ron blurted which earned him a quick elbow in the ribs from Hermione. He realized then his blunder…”Oh, umm – sorry Harry…” Ron muttered himself into silence.

 

GlausHarmon raised his head and inhaled deeply, “Very sorry. I’m very sorry Mr. Potter…very sorry indeed.”

 

The silence hung on for a moment, everyone pondering his or her own thoughts. Harry spoke first, “What did you mean, they weren’t able to finish the tests?”

 

“They entered through the Gate of Gryffindor and were tested as will you be, if you choose to pass through and face what is beyond.” GlausHarmon responded matter of factly, but there was a slight edge to his voice. It was the first sense that Harry had that the dragon was much more than he appeared.

 

Harry continued on a little more cautiously, “What is beyond the Gate?”

 

“Uh…well, I guess that’s the real reason for your presence, although I had hoped it was because you enjoy my engaging personality.”

 

The laughter had almost returned to his voice, but Harry noted that GlausHarmon’s manner was different and he began observing the Dragon more closely.

 

GlausHarmon appeared almost sad as he surveyed the three bright young faces that peered eagerly up at him, the three faces that hung on his every word. Oh how he yearned to delay their entry through the Gate, to share more time with them in their innocence. The ages passed so slowly for the Ancient One, and yet he knew that it was not so for the young souls that sat before him.

 

“Please indulge me for a little longer, “ GlausHarmon implored of Harry and the others, “There is time to discuss the tests, but for now, allow me to answer some of your other questions.”

 

GlausHarmon knew what he proposed was perhaps unfair. In the early ages of his Guardianship, he had not visited, not inquired of those who had made the journey to the Gates. He had merely presented the challenges and the options as was his duty as Guardian, but in the later ages, came a greater wisdom, perhaps the result of a desire for a slightly different role, an evolution of his lonely exile. GlausHarmon had come to realize these pilgrims offered their life and their talents to a cause, an often dangerous cause which was more than they were, even greater than he and only by working together, could they be triumphant. The Ancient One had pondered again and again throughout the passage of time, the futility of the existence of man, magic or muggle, and their struggles of good and evil. There were times when only his sacred oath had kept him at the Gate carrying out his duties. Now, looking down into the faces of these children, knowing some of what they must face, and feeling their strength and courage in it’s infancy, GlausHarmon was drawn back through the tunnel of time to the many faces that had looked just a these ones. How many had sacrificed of themselves, selflessly given for their next generation? He felt inspired once again by their nobility. Their struggle no longer seemed futile. They were no longer just faces and their courage was worthy of memory, at very least his memory.

 

Harry nodded and granted GlausHarmon his reprieve on that particular question and continued silently observing.

 

Ron however, was ready to begin. “Why did my brothers get turned back…em Sir?” Ron fidgeted; he still wasn’t quite comfortable under GlausHarmon’s potent stare.

 

“Let me answer by posing another question first to you Mr. Weasley. What is, in your opinion, the most likely method used to turned someone back or away from an area?”

 

Ron thought this seemed rather like a classroom suddenly and he thought of his Charms class. “Well, er…” he was distracted at once because Hermione’s hand shot up into the air. Ron glared once at Hermione, focused his thoughts and said, “A repelling charm, I would imagine.”

 

Hermione looked slightly disappointed as she lowered her arm.

 

GlausHarmon nodded his head, “Excellent answer Mr. Weasley, and temporarily effective; however, I used a different method. Care to hazard a guess Miss Granger?” GlausHarmon had singled out Hermione and Ron could see from the smile on her face, that she was pleased.

 

“The Repelling Charm had been my first guess, I would imagine that there are many charms that do approximately the same things with only slight differences.” Hermione was thinking aloud to answer the question.

 

“Yes, good thinking, but I’ll tell you that it wasn’t’ a Charm…that is to say, that I don’t have a wand which is a component you use to cast a charm. My magic is wandless, although for your purposes, you may still consider it a charm of sorts. I will tell you also that it isn’t necessarily a commonly used method.” GlausHarmon paused giving Hermione time to consider his explanation before continuing further.

 

“An illusion.” Harry piped his thought audibly into the room, obviously more to himself than to consciously put forth an answer.

 

It was Hermione’s turn to frown slightly, not being accustomed to someone else beating her to an answer; Ron smiled and Harry just looked rather surprised at himself.

 

“Outstanding Mr. Potter!” GlausHarmon boomed, he was evidently very impressed.

 

Ron clarified a point. “So you set up an illusion that turned them back. What could have been more effective than you? Umm, no disrespect umm sir.” He stammered to the end of his thought.

 

GlausHarmon expanded his fiery red leather-like wings slightly and swelled up his chest, taking a moment for vanity, “I am quite impressive aren’t I? Rather intimidating…” He was interrupted.

 

Ron continued, “That’s an understatement, sort of like saying Hermione knows a couple of spells!”

 

The offhand compliments weren’t lost on Hermione or GlausHarmon. “Hmmm interesting comment,” GlausHarmon paused and surveyed both Ron and Hermione, who was now blushing and then continued. “It was not my intention to put fear into the hearts of your brothers as they will be called eventually to take the challenge of the Gate as well; but merely to persuade them that they need not continue at this point in time. I erected a wall both to block the passage and to protect the secret of the Gate.” GlausHarmon paused and waited for the next topic.

 

Hermione was still pondering when Harry noted, “The illusion that Hermione found in the tunnel wasn’t solid. Her hand passed right through.”

 

Hermione continued where Harry had left off, “How would that have stopped them unless they didn’t think to touch the wall?”

 

Although GlausHarmon was in his glory answering these kinds of questions, using the time he had with the trio as instructional time as well as a social time, he had to consider the consequences of delving deeper into certain questions too early in their relationship. He had learned from his own mentor in his early years that it was not necessarily better to simply give an answer to a question. GlausHarmon was one of the Ancient Ones and as such, opted for encouraging and providing an opportunity for his new students to contemplate the answer themselves. His concern grew from the trio getting too much information too quickly. A misunderstanding of both his purpose and that of the Gate might arise from delving deeper into certain areas. Even though it may have been his preference to steer the conversation to another topic, GlausHarmon also knew that denying information would only lead to the trio becoming obsessed with it and a greater harm could be done.

 

Having weighed the possibilities, GlausHarmon chose to allow the line of questioning to continue, “What would you say if I confirmed that they not only touched the wall, but they tried to charm their way through, having perceived that it may have been an illusion?"

 

A light of dawning flickered in Harry’s mind. He couldn’t explain where the thought came from, any more than he could explain why he had felt kinship with the Dragon when he first entered the chamber today, but he was sure he was on to something. Harry simply inquired, “GlausHarmon, was the illusion solid?”

 

GlausHarmon surveyed Harry with a curious look. Never hesitating or taking his eyes off Harry, he answered truthfully, “No, it wasn’t Mr. Potter - you have a theory.” It was more a statement than a question.

 

Hermione and Ron just stared at Harry. They were rather surprised. Harry was good in school, passably so, not fantastic; he wasn’t studious like Hermione and knowing charms certainly wasn’t his area of expertise…they wondered what he had caught on to and what they had overlooked.

 

Harry’s brow furrowed and he looked suddenly concerned. What he was about to expose may put them in some danger, he wasn’t sure that it was a good idea to continue. He hesitated.

 

“Come on Harry, what’s the answer? You’ve got it figured don’t you?” Ron wanted to hear the answer; he would be rather impressed if Harry had actually figured out how the whole thing worked well ahead of Hermione.

 

GlausHarmon never took his eyes off Harry and Harry never took his eyes off GlausHarmon. He scrambled in his brain for anything that would protect Ron and Hermione from a possible blast of heat so intense and such close range…but his mind was blank. His gaze shifted to Ron and Hermione, they were waiting excitedly for the answer, they had no idea what they were dealing with, neither did he really, but this was certainly a clue. He turned back to GlausHarmon and finally uttered, “You did it. You told them it was a solid wall and they believed you. You turned them back by making them think it was solid. You just” he paused for a moment but then blurted out, “You just changed their minds. It was their minds you fooled, not their magic.”

 

GlausHarmon remained silent for several seconds. He intensified his gaze on Harry. When he spoke again it was no longer in a light bantering tone, he was now proceeding cautiously. What he had to say certainly wasn’t what they expected to hear. “I can see now why I was told to bring you here. It is definitely your time. You may be young, but your powers of perception are finely tuned…they need to be honed, but they are definitely tuned. I didn’t think that you could possess such raw talent at your age. I must admit…I’ve never seen it in one so young…” GlausHarmon came in close, his eyes bore into Harry and Harry felt a surge of power burn through his heart and then it was gone. GlausHarmon drew back only inches, “Although it’s never happened before, I …I may have, perhaps, underestimated you.”

 

That admission left Harry stunned. Ron and Hermione just looked from Harry to GlausHarmon and back again. What had just happened?

 

GlausHarmon resumed his previous position, as he raised his head away from Harry. Hermione suddenly gasped. GlausHarmon turned his attention to her.

 

“You mean, I mean…what Harry is saying is that…You have the power to change people’s thoughts? You have the power to show them something and even if it’s an illusion, you can make them believe it’s anything they want to believe…or anything you want them to believe?” Hermione’s voice trailed off and she looked at the Chamber they were in with new eyes.

 

Ron was wary. “This is a game isn’t it? Some kind of game? You’ve tricked us. What are we really thinking, it any of this true or is this just an illusion?” Ron’s voice was tense.

 

GlausHarmon looked at the trio, who were now facing him with questioning and rather panicked demeanors. Alas, this was going to make things more difficult to explain, truly it was not the way he had wanted things to transpire. The Ancient One turned once again to Harry. “Mr. Potter, how did you make the connection from the illusion to my powers of …call it persuasion?”

 

Harry speculated that as long as GlausHarmon was interested, they were safe. As long as he was getting some information from them, they were safe. What would happen when GlausHarmon ran out of questions or worse yet, when Harry ran out of answers?

 

Harry looked up and squared his shoulders, he had to keep this going, “When we first arrived, we stopped in the tunnel.” Harry paused, unsure of how much to say, so he stopped and tried to choose his words carefully.

 

“Yes, yes go on Mr. Potter.” GlausHarmon seemed intensely eager for one so powerful, to hear his account.

 

“I tried to talk to you from the tunnel. I wasn’t…I still felt a little…unsure of coming right in to the chamber to talk to you.”

 

GlausHarmon agreed, “Yes it is rather asking a lot. Come in and sit down to a conversation with a dragon, isn’t it?”

 

“Sympathy?” The thought tore through Harry’s mind. “I was going to ask my questions from the tunnel, but I felt a strange warmth creep over me and I felt you were a friend and I found myself coming to sit down.”

 

“Very interesting, Mr. Potter. Would you care to explain how that helped you to understand the illusion question?” GlausHarmon has resumed his teaching demeanor, but he still had an edge to his voice, he was riveted on Harry’s account of the details.

 

“Er…,” this was feeling like class again, but Harry continued, “I didn’t understand it, but I felt this tingle and then I wanted to be your friend, even though I had just thought it was safer to stay in the tunnel. Then it came to me about the illusion. What would make them think it was solid when it wasn’t? The only thing I could think of was a charm, but then I realized you have a different magic and it must be very powerful because it made me believe you were my friend.”

 

“There is only one flaw in your analysis Mr. Potter.” GlausHarmon responded. He had been nodding his head as Harry had worked through his explanation.

 

“What’s that?” Ron blurted, not waiting for Harry to ask.

 

“I didn’t make you believe I was your friend…I AM your friend, Mr. Potter. I am also Mr. Weasley’s friend and Miss Granger’s friend and I hope to be a very good one! I realize that that may come somewhat as a surprise to each of you, and there may be many things that you question in the coming weeks, but never doubt my friendship. It is more solid than the rock on which you sit.”

 

Harry struggled with this statement. “How can I believe you when I don’t know if you are just making me believe that or if I am actually thinking of it on my own?”

 

GlausHarmon put up one of his powerful forelegs in a pausing gesture. “Let me help you a little with this particular struggle. You were quite correct when you said that I have a different type of magic from you. You were also quite correct when you said that I made the Weasley twins believe the wall was solid. I used a magical persuasion of the mind. It is also quite correct for you to say that I have powerful magic, even dangerous magic, for most certainly if an enemy of yours had the equivalent ability, they would be a formidable enemy indeed! I can teach you to overcome some of this type of magic and I most certainly will. The fact that you could feel a physical sensation when I made the suggestion for you to enter the chamber makes it much easier for you to turn the suggestion away. Presently, I can only hope to convince you through the means of my sworn oath. Ages past, I swore an oath to protect those, who by the Order of the Phoenix have been called to the Gate. As a result, I must never use my magic against you once you have received the Call.”

 

“What’s the Call?” Ron asked.

 

“Have I received the Call?” Harry and Hermione chimed in together.

 

GlausHarmon smiled and simply said, “You are here aren’t you?”

 

Hermione wasn’t satisfied. “What does all this mean? Who’s the Order of the Phoenix? What is the Gate of Gryffindor? What is all this testing about? Why are we here and not the Twins, they are older than us? How did you know about Professor Snape’s Potion class and how did you know that we attend it in the afternoon? How do you know I found the illusion in the tunnel? How …” Hermione inhaled deeply preparing to continue to churn out more questions, but GlausHarmon stopped her.

 

“Miss Granger, I realize that you have many questions. Let’s pause for a moment and I will try to address some of these. Please sit comfortably and enjoy your meal. I will do my best to explain some of these things to you.” GlausHarmon re-adjusted his body and seemed find a rather relaxed position.

 

Taking their cue from Hermione, the boys both settled in on either side of her, warily watching and waiting for some answers before they made up their minds about whether they wanted a dragon for a friend or not.

 

**********

GlausHarmon knew then that he had not lost them. Most assuredly if they were opposed to what he had to share with them, they would have made an attempt to leave rather than sitting down…albeit rather warily. The time had come to answer some of their questions and the ensuing questions that would be raised because of his answers.

 

So it began again…

 

Before I explain my role, I have to elucidate…

 

Ron said “What’s that …elucin-date?”

 

Hermione groaned and jabbed at the same time, “Ron it means to explain or enlighten, don’t interrupt! Please continue sir, um GlausHarmon.”

 

GlausHarmon smiled, and began again. “As I was saying, before you can understand my role, you have to know some of the background information. First, I will take you back through the ages to one of the first founders of the school, Goderic Gryffindor. As you may be aware, Mr. Gryffindor was a good man and a very good wizard, one who understood that the wizarding world needed a place to teach, learn and hone their craft. He was also aware of the feelings of the ones referred to as ‘Muggles’ regarding the use of magic. He was the initiating force behind the creation of Hogwarts. You must also be aware that Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were his contemporaries and co-founders.

 

The trio was nodding. Ron was thinking that this wasn’t sounding like any top-secret information, rather more like one of Professor Binns’ history classes.

 

GlausHarmon had a keen eye and noted the rather dulled look on Ron’s face. “I can assure you Mr. Weasley that this is a necessary beginning, I am not just trying to bore you into leaving.”

 

Ron flinched at being singled out and did his best impression of someone trying to look very interested.

 

“You must also be aware that Salazar Slytherin stood alone on the fact that he wanted only ‘pure blood’ students to have the opportunity to enjoy the educational facility. It was this that was recorded as the defining reason why Salazar Slytherin left the school. In truth, it was the reason, but there was more.” GlausHarmon noted that all three listeners perked up and sat much straighter with that last piece of information.

 

GlausHarmon continued, “Goderic sensed, because of the hostility and determination that Salazar personified, that he would try to do something to sabotage the school. The crisis point came when Goderic learned through ‘whisperings’ that Salazar had created the Chamber of Secrets, a Chamber that housed a most frightful beast, a beast that could be controlled only through an heir of Slytherin, controlled to purge the school and fulfill Salazar’s vision for our noble institution. Try as he might, he could not discover the whereabouts of the Chamber, but Goderic understood that it was necessary to protect the school and it’s population against this brand of hatred and destruction, then and in the future. Goderic believed that he and others like him must protect the school but also to bestow a greater more wide ranging type of protection. He decided that he must set about to provide some defenders to do battle on behalf of the general wizarding world should there arise anyone whose actions sought to destroy it. It was then that he envisioned an Order that would oversee the activities of the wizarding world, one that would do battle with evil and hatred…one that would be loyal and embody the ideologies that he held in high esteem. It was then that he created the Order of the Phoenix. Until then, no such group of defenders had existed.”

 

“Wow” Harry was enrapt. Hermione had taken out a quill and was madly taking notes. Ron sat there stuffing his mouth and chewing, wholly unconscious of the activity.

 

Hermione looked up from her papers, “So the Order of the Phoenix began then, almost a 1000 years ago?”

 

“That’s correct Miss Granger. Although two of the original members were like-minded friends of Goderic, ever after, the members were hand picked by Goderic or his successors from promising students in his own house of Gryffindor. The need to protect the wizarding world from evil formed the basis of this elite group of members and it has been passed down through the ages. It wasn’t long after the newly formed Order had begun that they realized a new concern, the need to protect the so-called ‘Muggle world’ from those who would destroy it, especially through any means that the Muggles would be unable to fathom. That is how the Order of the Phoenix came into being. Taking the vow to become a member is a very grave undertaking. Every member is a life long member – through eternity if they wish.”

 

When he finished speaking, GlausHarmon moved his massive bulk with the amazing agility, and with disarming speed. He curled his tail, and his wings opened and with a powerful downdraft, they lofted him slightly as he turned on the spot. The trio had hardly blinked and the GlausHarmon had moved from one side of the cavity to a totally new position away from them, clearing the way to expose to their sight for the first time, the wall that he had previously obscured. His movement had been no effort for him, and he continued his monologue, “As you can see, the Phoenix is the symbol of the Order. It stands enshrined on the Gate of Gryffindor.”

 

GlausHarmon pointed to the center of the circular hub where a carved Phoenix was depicted, preparing to take flight and he touched it with a slight pass of his massive forepaw. The Phoenix carved in an intricate relief and the circular medallion surrounding it erupted into light. The Phoenix blazed to full colour, with its plumage a beautiful red and gold. Light of the same colours radiated from the Phoenix and flowed as if liquid fire following an intricate pattern into the surrounding medallion, casting the whole chamber in an almost blinding brilliance.

 

“Awesome.” Ron was standing and walking forward. Hermione was almost unable to move, at the sight of the radiance she raised her arm to offer some protection to her eyes, those same eyes that were riveted to the unfolding display. Harry walked slowly forward, almost trancelike, enrapt in the Phoenix, seemingly unaffected by the brilliance. GlausHarmon stroked the Phoenix again and the radiance slowly faded, leaving Harry standing only steps from the Gate with his hand reaching forward but not quite touching the now colourless bird.

 

“It is not the time yet, Mr. Potter.” GlausHarmon gently turned Harry with the slightest touch of one of his fiery red gold wingtips.

 

Harry didn’t resist the wingtip’s direction, nor did he retreat from being in direct contact with the Dragon for the very first time. Harry felt rather strange, rather unbound from his body, but he slowly turned and as he looked up, his pupils were fully dilated and non-focusing. “Why?” Harry struggled to put his mental question into words, “Why was I drawn to touch the Phoenix?”

 

GlausHarmon turned his wingtip and drew Harry into a fold of his wing in a nurturing fashion. Harry barely noticed that the wings were supple and warm against his hands, much like a blanket. A strange but comforting strength was being exuded from where the wings touched him and he drew on that. He began to feel somewhat more aware, no longer separated from his current existence. Harry began to focus again and to make out lines of the veins and patterning that he hadn’t noticed before on GlausHarmon’s wings.

 

“Mr. Potter, that question will be added to the list…near the end of the list, I’m afraid. In time, I will explain your compulsion to touch the Phoenix, to both you and your companions. The time is not now.”

 

Harry felt the strength return to his limbs being swaddled as he was and he stood enjoying the warmth not wanting to be unwrapped.

 

Ron and Hermione had come to stand near Harry, even though it meant being in very close proximity to GlausHarmon. Ron wanted to grab Harry and he made a move to do so.

 

“Stand Mr. Weasley. Harry is not being harmed. I am simply allowing him to restore his strength. To the unprepared, to touch of the Phoenix can be dangerous. I would not have allowed him to touch it, but it seems that touching it was not required in his case. The Call is very strong for him and it has drained some of his energy, which I am now currently restoring.” GlausHarmon had brought Ron up short by barring his way with one massive forepaw. The movement was not threatening but clearly not to be challenged.

 

“Harry, all you all right?” Hermione moved forward cautiously, taking care not to mimic Ron’s rushing motion.

 

“I feel fine now Hermione.” Harry still sounded a little weak.

 

Ron was scowling.

 

“Really Ron, I’m okay. Thanks GlausHarmon, I’m okay.” Harry was thankful for the warmth of the wing and was actually a little disappointed when GlausHarmon gently released him.

 

Ron grabbed Harry’s arm and tried to move him quickly away from the dragon. Harry resisted. Hermione hadn’t backed away, but had reached over and had extended a hand to touch GlausHarmon’s wing. “May I?” Hermione inquired.

 

“Yes, of course.” GlausHarmon extended his wing to meet her touch.

 

Hermione felt a warmth surge through her and a feeling of well being, as she ran her hand over the smooth surface of the crimson wing. “Thank you for restoring Harry, I mean, you could have …you could have…” She searched for the words to complete the sentence.

 

“Yes, had that been my intent, I could have Miss Granger, but as I told you, I am your friend and I will protect you where it is in my power to do so.” GlausHarmon had not been offended; he mere reiterated his earlier statement. “Please assist Harry to his seat and continue with your meal.”

 

Hermione took hold of Harry’s arm. Harry stopped resisting Ron and the trio walked together to their table. Ron handed Harry and sandwich and commanded, “Eat up Harry.” His concern still furrowed his brow.

 

Hermione dug in her bag and pulled out a Chocolate Frog. “No take this instead Harry.” Harry complied.

 

GlausHarmon had moved back into to his previous position and waited until the trio had resettled into theirs. None of the trio had even noticed the movement. Hermione looked up and then gasped.

 

“I’m sorry, I …how is it possible for a creature your size to move so swiftly and silently?” She blushed as she realized that it wasn’t necessarily a tenant that due to a large size a creature had to be clumsy and noisy.

 

“Many years of practice Miss Granger. I have roamed the tunnels beneath Hogwarts for years and on occasion, I have had to ‘disappear’ rather rapidly. Most often in the years when my Marauder friends were here, but the Weasley Twins have given me some recent practice as well!” GlausHarmon chuckled at the look of disbelief on Hermione’s face as well as the shock that registered on Ron’s face. Harry wasn’t quite himself yet, but he had a frown beginning to crease his forehead. “You don’t think that I merely sit here for eons without moving do you?”

 

Truthfully, neither Ron nor Harry had given it much thought. It had crossed Hermione’s mind when she was discussing sharing food with GlausHarmon that he must eat…but she hadn’t gotten any further on the matter.

 

“That’s mental! You don’t expect me to believe that you have skulked around the tunnels under the school for 1000 years and no one knows you are here?” Ron was very skeptical of most things, but seldom had Hermione or Harry heard him be so openly sarcastic other than when he dealt with the likes of Malfoy and his cronies.

 

“Ron!” Harry and Hermione scolded at the same time.

 

GlausHarmon remained silent.

 

“Ron, think about it. How many people know about the tunnels under the school, other than your brothers and us? It wouldn’t be that hard to move about down here. It’s not that impossible to believe. We’ve seen GlausHarmon move in here and he’s certainly not clumsy or slow.” Harry thought he had done a good job convincing Ron.

 

Ron still wasn’t satisfied. “But 1000 years? Get off it. Not one person has discovered you?”

 

“Mr. Weasley, it seems to me that your contention is that I couldn’t have been unseen for 1000 years in its entirety. For that part of your assumption, you are in effect correct. There have been many close calls, and only one true sighting. You may have heard of a tale in Hogwarts, of a student that had dark hair in the morning and when he had returned from a mysterious excursion in the dungeons, had completely white hair. Does that sound familiar?”

 

“The story of Benjamin Barker? The student who insisted that there was a great beast lurking in the dungeons? Even the ghosts didn’t want to go down into the deepest parts of the school. The teachers did a thorough search but they never found anything, but Barker insisted that he had heard and seen a great beast.” Hermione had recited the paragraph out of Hogwarts: A History, strictly from memory.

 

“Excellent Miss Granger. Yes indeed, Benjamin Barker.”

 

Ron just shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes. He had never heard of Benjamin Barker, but obviously Hermione had. He thought he just might read his copy of Hogwarts: A History, then he shook his head. What was he thinking?

 

“I happened to be on a foray in the dungeons, having been asked to apply some heat to some of the lowest tunnels. It seemed that the students were freezing in the lower reaches while sitting in their classes – several of them had to be thawed out before they could proceed to their next class; it was a very nasty winter that year, the coldest one that I can recall. Normally, my acute hearing can detect noise at extreme distances, but that morning I was concentrating on a particularly interesting class that Professor Barlow was teaching in Magical History while I was dispensing some heat…”

 

“You can hear the classes taking place?” Hermione was astounded.

 

“Why yes. That’s how I keep track of things that go on; it’s very interesting to hear the new students and get to know them each year. I have a phenomenal memory, I can recall each and every student that has graced the Great Hall of Hogwarts.”

 

GlausHarmon noted, “Mr. Weasley, you look thoroughly unsatisfied with my explanation. Would you care to test my accuracy?”

 

“Go ahead Ron, name someone…anyone!” Harry had no trouble believing GlausHarmon. He wanted to encourage Ron to have a go.

 

“Okay, how about…” Ron had to pause, he had to think of someone that they knew something about, but who wouldn’t have likely drawn a lot of attention. “How about, Myrtle?”

 

GlausHarmon scratched his chin with a claw from his forepaw. He was trying to look like it took some calculating on his part to arrive at the answer. “I assume you mean Myrtle Dubbins, although there have been many Myrtles down through the ages, that is a fairly popular name you realize; the Myrtle that I am referring to is the Myrtle that you know as Moaning Myrtle. She currently haunts the girls’ lavatory on the second floor. She was in Hufflepuff House.”

 

Ron’s jaw had dropped. If he had disbelieved GlausHarmon’s statements about knowing each student, that had convinced him. Hermione smiled brightly and was excited at the prospects of knowing someone with such a vast store of knowledge.

 

Harry had observed GlausHarmon carefully, “You knew instantly who it was that Ron meant, didn’t you?”

 

GlausHarmon thought that he had been more convincing, but Harry seemed to be a very astute observer. “Regardless of when I knew the answer Mr. Potter, isn’t the most important issue here that I did indeed know the Myrtle that Mr. Weasley referred to?”

 

Harry just nodded, but he knew; Harry knew that GlausHarmon knew that he knew…his head was starting to spin again, so he shook it.

 

“That’s how you knew about Professor Snape’s Potions Class and that I had found the illusion in the tunnel!” Hermione paused and looked up in awe, “That’s how you knew that Ron and I had discussed him bringing the food, we were upstairs outside of the Great Hall…you heard! You actually heard that! Do you hear everything? Can you keep track of all those conversations?”

 

GlausHarmon smiled, “I don’t listen to every conversation Miss Granger. I don’t want to give the impression of being a monumental eavesdropper, although it is necessary for me to partake in classes to track students’ progress. I also keep my ear to the ground…as it where, for any plots or wrong doing. There are those who keep me informed as well. “

 

“There are those? Who are they?” Ron wasn’t keen on the idea that he had been being ‘observed’ in his classes.

 

“Members of the Order of the Phoenix Mr. Weasley. Who else?”

 

“How do you come and go from the school, GlausHarmon? I mean you have to eat.” Hermione was now concerned that perhaps GlausHarmon wasn’t well enough fed. She wondered if the House Elves knew about him…did they bring food? She was building up some irritation. Was this just another example of abuse in her favourite institution? Another magical creature forced to work for no pay and no food?

 

“Before you get too upset, Miss Granger…” GlausHarmon, knowing Hermione well enough to realize where she was heading with her particular line of questioning, “Have you ever heard of the saying, ‘The fog is as thick as dragon’s breath’?”

 

Hermione didn’t know what this had to do with anything…”Why yes, but…”

 

“You make a fog when you go out! Brilliant!” Ron had caught on and he was impressed. He’d never view a thick soupy fog in the same way again.

 

“Precisely Mr. Weasley. Now Miss Granger, I want to assure you that I eat regularly and that you don’t have to alarm the House Elves by having them send great bulking meals down to me. The House Elves, by the way, are forbidden from entering these tunnels, so please do not put them in a precarious position by insisting that they provide food to me. I understand that you have nothing but the best intentions. I thank you for your concern, but I have provided for myself for ages and I will continue to do so!”

 

Harry and Ron both breathed a sigh of relief. They had finally burned their S.P.E.W. badges, and they weren’t looking forward to wearing badges that said, L.O.D.E. – Liberation of Dragons Everywhere…or something along those lines!

 

“I think perhaps it would be best to suspend our discussion until a later date.” Ron and Harry had eaten everything that they had brought with them. Hermione had used up all her scrolls. “There is something that I have to ask, specifically of you Miss Granger. It is necessary that you leave your notations behind. I will guard them for you, but I am sure you can understand that they may not, under any circumstances fall into the hands of anyone that might be tempted to jeopardize our mission and the Order.” GlausHarmon knew that Hermione was reasonable, but giving up her scrolls would still be hard.

 

Ron yanked them out of her hands “Where can I put them?” Ron was busy scanning the cavern looking for the ideal spot. He hadn’t noticed that Hermione had plunked herself down on the bench and she looked as though she were about to cry.

 

GlausHarmon reached over and lifted Hermione’s chin with one of his claws. “You do understand don’t you Miss Granger? It is not an issue of my trust in you. It is an issue of trust in an unknown element. You are welcome to take notes whenever you are here. Writing is a skillful way to help retain information and I applaud you for that.” GlausHarmon was looking intently into Hermione’s eyes. She swiped a single stray tear away and nodded. “Now Mr. Weasley if you would be so good as to return the scrolls to Miss Granger, I am sure that we can locate a place for her to stow them safely until your next visit. I’m sure that this has been a very intense and tiring visit for all of you. I can assure you that our next visit won’t be filled with the same trepidations.”

 

Hermione took the scrolls and proceeded to a dimly lit area of the cavern, as directed by GlausHarmon. She located a number of enclosed shelves that housed a number of books. A smile brightened her face when GlausHarmon whispered to her, “You may at any time drop in and peruse any of these volumes. These are ‘The Greater Volumes of the Lesser Known History of Hogwarts: A Supplement’ volumes one through eighty, written by yours truly. Just journals really, of some of the events that have occurred here, rather mundane occurrences mind you. They’ve been written in my spare time.”

 

Hermione turned and threw her arms out and hugged GlausHarmon. Her arms didn’t reach very far, the girth of the Dragon being much greater than her span. GlausHarmon kindly touched her back with his wingtip.

 

Ron was speechless, only Hermione would think to hug a great deadly dragon…well and perhaps Hagrid.

 

Harry was almost sure that GlausHarmon was blushing…a dragon blushing?

Chapter 5

As Hermione raced down the now familiar passage way that led to the Gate Chamber, she thought about some of the things she had discovered during her almost daily visits with GlausHarmon. She still couldn’t believe that neither Harry nor Ron had availed themselves of the volumes of books in GlausHarmon’s possession. Hermione had to admit a lot of the information was very mundane; almost a study in human nature by GlausHarmon who had meticulously detailed small events that would doubtless have gone unrecorded and unnoticed. The pages were filled with his attempts to comprehend human behaviours; he journalized the passage of many into maturity, the beginnings of recorded triumphs, as well as the beginnings of tragedies that were to unfold throughout the ages.

 

At one point Hermione questioned him on his inaction, shocked that GlausHarmon could have allowed some of the events of the past to occur.

 

His reply had been, “It is not my duty to interfere with the natural course of history. I must not become involved on an individual basis; I must always keep the whole of humanity as my focus. My sole function is the guardianship of the Gate, and all its secrets. Those who answer the Call of the Order, are those enlisted to fight the battles of humankind.

 

Hermione pondered that response often. Replaying the words over and over again in her mind. “How could he ignore the individual action and still keep the whole action in view?” She resolved to take this up once again with GlausHarmon.

 

Hermione had read many of the collection of volumes; each one read page by page. Along with the minor events, the major events were recorded as well. Having the background provided by GlausHarmon made the circumstances surrounding the events much easier to comprehend.

 

Hermione stumbled. Her mental images of deeds great and small shattered like a mirror being cast to the floor. She thought to catch herself against the wall but the wall did not support her weight, in fact it did not exist and she fell through the barrier into a dark nothingness. Caught by the surprise of the fall and the fear of being suddenly in an unfamiliar environment, Hermione lay for a long moment immobile, heart pounding. Slowly, she regained enough composure to extract her wand and utter “Lumos.”

 

Harry and Ron entered the Chamber expecting to see Hermione already deeply engrossed in both books and conversation with GlausHarmon. Today, such was not the case.

 

“Hi GlausHarmon. Where’s Hermione?” Harry inquired casually as he strode to the stone table.

 

“What? Not here? She isn’t buried under a heap of books is she?” Ron scanned the piles of books that were stacked in the corner. He was only partially joking.

 

“Good day to you both. I must admit that I am as surprised as you that Hermione hasn’t arrived; however, I did have an errand away from the Chamber. It may be possible that she has also had an errand.”

 

“Er no, we saw her and she said that she was heading straight down, that was…” Harry was interrupted as Hermione burst into the chamber, breathless and looking almost excited, her face flushed with colour.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had a small interruption….” her voice petered out. “Did I miss anything?”

 

“Hermione…” Ron squinted in her direction, “What’s that in your hair?”

 

In response, her hand immediately went up to her head.

 

“No, the other side.” Ron was directing her from where he sat at the stone table.

 

“Oh, uh, just some dust. I was in the library looking through some not very well used books. I must have brushed against one of the shelves.” She felt the tug of guilt at her lie as she extracted the mass of cobweb from her hair, but she wanted to avoid the havoc that her unexpected exploration into the secret tunnel would have caused. If anyone thought her excuse odd, no one commented.

 

“Good afternoon Hermione. You haven’t missed anything, so don’t worry.” GlausHarmon was his usual congenial self. He continued, “I would like to get started though, today your long awaited desire will be met. We will enter the Gate.”

 

Ron, who had long since grown impatient with the seeming non-progression of their daily lessons, uttered a very audible, ”Finally!”

 

A beaming smile erupted across Harry’s face that was punctuated with his “Excellent!” Hermione’s hands shot up to cover her mouth and her excited intake of breath.

 

“Please put your things down at the table and gather near.“ GlausHarmon’s grace of movement belied his size, as he adjusted himself to make clear the circular relief of the Gate and the Phoenix that was centered there.

 

Once the trio was ready and in attendance facing the Gate, he began again. “Until you are prepared for your tests, you must not attempt to open the Gate yourselves. The opening of this gate requires a degree of knowledge, but more importantly, a large measure of mental control. Under my tutelage you will all acquire the knowledge and with special exercises that I have prepared, you will acquire the control; however, today you will pass through with my assistance. You must join hands and it is imperative that you DO NOT release your contact with one another. Any trip through the Gate is not without some peril. Is that clear?”

 

Three subdued nods met his inquiry. “So then let us begin. Harry, please take hold of my left wingtip firmly and again do not let go.”

 

Harry moved into position and grasped the wingtip with what he hoped was a firm grip.

 

“Tighter please Harry. You will feel a strong pull as we enter the portal and your grip must be able to resist the force.

 

Harry increased his grip incrementally until GlausHarmon nodded his satisfaction. GlausHarmon then turned his attention to Ron and Hermione who were looking distinctly uncomfortable with the prospect of making the first move to grasp the other’s hand. GlausHarmon muttered an almost inaudible “Teenagers,” then he continued, “Hermione please grasp Harry’s left hand, and Ron, if you would, clasp Hermione’s left hand.” Hermione moved to stand beside Harry and Ron followed to stand next to her. The instruction had been enough to help the two avoid the analysis of the necessity for close contact, and removed any responsibility for any perceived show of eagerness on their parts.

 

GlausHarmon raised his right forepaw and in a sweeping arc brushed the Phoenix depicted at the center of the relief, uttering the words, “Advoco Gryffindus.” The mercurial flow of red-gold fire poured forth into the bird, illuminating it. Red-gold fire raced outward, coursing through the channels and veins like blood being pumped into the intricate venous network of the wings of a butterfly on first opening. Fire flowed into the markings that appeared to be ancient glyphs surrounding the Phoenix.

 

GlausHarmon raised his voice in response to the hum of power being generated, as the fire coursed and the lumination intensified, “You MUST retain your grasp of one another.” With that reminder, GlausHarmon commanded the Phoenix with the words, “Patronus Obvius Atrium.”

 

The great Phoenix who had raised its head from the flat surface of the Gate to await GlausHarmon’s further instruction, released it’s entire body from the stone that had incased it and took flight with a mighty downburst of its wings.

 

Where the bird had been was an open portal that threw forth beams of amazing brilliance; beams that began to slowly revolve. The tightly woven beams erupted and pulsated to an ancient rhythm, tearing at the trio, beckoning, drawing them forth. All three grips tightened to resist separation under the power of that force. GlausHarmon stepped forward and was absorbed into the revolving bands of light. Harry, Hermione and Ron found themselves instantly drawn inside a tunnel of fire, flames swirling but never touching them. Beams of light drumming out a beat, forcing their hearts and blood to conform to its rhythm. They could not see one another; they had only the security and comfort of one another’s hand held very tightly in their own.

 

Ron was sure he was screaming but he couldn’t hear his own voice.

 

Hermione felt disorientation like she was swirling around and down, but not down, maybe up like the flames.

 

Harry alone was experiencing something quite different; euphoria, a freedom something akin to his first flight on a broom sailing high above the trees. He didn’t want that feeling to end. It did, abruptly.

 

Ron’s feet landed hard and he heard a scream that stopped the moment he clamped tight his mouth. Hermione remained standing only due to the near painful grips both boys had on her hands.

 

Harry stood motionless, hoping for the euphoria to return, instead of the burgeoning feeling of loss, knowing that the glorious feeling had gone.

 

“Harry how are you feeling?” GlausHarmon was immediately concerned as he judged the reactions of the three. He feared he might have miscalculated their readiness for the experience.

 

With a note of uncharacteristic irritation in his voice, Harry responded, “I’m fine. Let’s get on with it. Where are we?”

 

GlausHarmon made another quick assessment of the trio then nodded and waved a forepaw. The chamber that they had entered became illuminated with a mysterious glow that didn’t seem to be radiating from any specific point, yet was brightened in every area of the room. They had entered a large circular room. Walls lined with gilt-framed portraits of waving wizards and witches surrounded them. The room itself appeared to have no exits. The middle of the room was occupied with a circular fountain of marble construction that spanned the space from the floor to the ceiling. The object at the center was a depiction of another Phoenix; this one rearing up with each wing fully extended, head thrown back spouting water, a red-gold cascade into the basin in which it stood.

 

Hermione walked forward and reached out to touch the fiery-water but her hand was caught in a soft leather envelope. Kindly, GlausHarmon explained, “Hermione, you must not touch the water. Without a clear image of the chamber outside the Gate in your mind, you would be in peril and for our purposes, lost to us until you could find a way to return.”

 

“This is a portkey?” Ron stepped up and pointed at the Phoenix fountain. “Cool!”

 

“Not quite Ron. It’s not a portkey, but it would be safe to compare it with an extremely powerful apparating device.”

 

“Just like when you apparate you have to have a clear impression of where you are going, a familiar place?” Hermione thought she understood.

 

“Yes Hermione, but there’s more.” GlausHarmon saw the confusion create a furrow that creased her brow. “This fountain contains a force that is more than a mere apparating device. If you don’t have a destination in mind, it will pick one for you, real or imagined.”

 

“What do you mean, real or imagined?” Harry had stepped forward and joined the discussion.

 

GlausHarmon turned and faced Harry. “This is the basis for your testing Harry. You must enter the Chamber and undergo examination. The tests that are conducted are created for the individual no two tests are ever the same. Your destination may be real or imagined – wherever or whenever a situation may exist to test your skills. This is a sentient force created by the Order of the Phoenix for the purposes of testing their candidates.”

 

“You mean you expect us to just walk through the portal and go somewhere unknown to fight something unknown – some when? How can you prepare for that?” Ron blurted out with his usual sarcasm thick as syrup dripping from his voice.

 

“It is not I that places any expectations Ron. The Order of the Phoenix expects that when the time is at hand, you will be willing to face the unknown, show courage and determination to secure your place amongst your prestigious forebears as a member of the Order. Only a chosen few are even permitted the privilege of the testing.” He again made a sweeping gesture that encompassed all the portraits that were now clapping in appreciation of his description to Ron of the challenges to be faced by a potential member.

 

“A further piece of information for you. You wouldn’t begin in this room. You would begin at the Gate as we did. You must be prepared to enter alone when you face the Call. There are no tests for trios.”

 

“Where is here?” Harry appeared to have taken all the testing criteria in stride.

 

GlausHarmon had been prepared to wait, expecting more questions but because Harry seemed unconcerned with further details, Ron and Hermione were hesitant to inquire further and remained quiet on the subject.

 

“You are in the Chamber of Honour. You see every member past and present of the Order of the Phoenix.” Literally, hundreds of portraits lined the walls. Harry walked the circuit slowly, scanning the walls. He located a portrait of Prof. Dumbledore who nodded and smiled at him. Harry continued on until he stopped and faced two familiar portraits…his mother and his father. Their portraits had been placed side by side. Harry reached out and touched the portrait of his father.

 

“Hi Son. I knew you’d come.”

 

Harry collapsed on the spot.

 

When he regained consciousness, he was once again in the Gate Chamber, wrapped in a soft leather cover. GlausHarmon’s wing securely holding him nestled and warm.

 

Harry sat bolt upright. “Take me back! I want to go back! My father spoke to me!”

 

GlausHarmon held Harry and tried to soothe him with his voice. “Harry, that was merely a portrait and although they are animated, they don’t speak.”

 

Harry was in no mood. “Take me back, I’ll prove it!”

 

“I’m afraid that until you become very practiced at using the portal, you may only make one journey per day. I’m sorry Harry. I think that perhaps if you take some time to reflect, you will realize it wasn’t the portrait that spoke to you. You were most likely feeling the effects of your first portal transfer. Many people feel disorientation…”

 

Hermione jumped in, “That’s now I felt Harry, just really disoriented. I almost fell when we landed…”

 

“I wasn’t disoriented!” Harry was angry, but he felt a warming surge coursing through him and his next statement was said with noticeably less vehemence. “I was sure Dad spoke to me.” Almost to himself he said, “Hi Son, I knew you’d come.”

 

 

The trio had agreed to take a few days to absorb their journey through the portal and postpone their next visit for two days. That would make their return visit on Saturday. The weekend was typically spent in discussion and learning, although GlausHarmon insisted that they spend at least two hours in the morning and two hours in the later afternoon, doing their required Hogwart’s homework.

 

Harry, Ron and Hermione were careful not to let their discussions be overheard in the common room. Fellow Gryffindors had long since stopped asking where they had been or where they were headed because they had been met with shrugs and various other non-verbal responses.

 

Neville stood looking out the window of his dormitory Friday evening, as Ron and Harry scuttled about grabbing scrolls and quills preparing for some work down in the common room. “Hey guys, look at this fog, it’s as thick as dragon’s breath!”

 

“How did you …” Ron clamped his mouth shut – tight.

 

“What?” Neville inquired. He knew that both Ron and Harry had been acting strangely this past while.

 

Ron just shrugged. “Ah, I mean...I was just going to ask you about that scroll that’s due for Snape…how did you do on it?”

 

Neville wilted on the spot, his shoulders slumped forward and down. “I haven’t started it yet.”

 

“But it’s due on Monday Neville.” Harry was concerned. Neville had managed reasonably well in every other class, every one that is except Potions. Professor Snape continued his year-long harassment…no, torture of Neville in each and every Potions class. Neville shook like a leaf, every time he stood outside the door to the classroom, pausing to gather some strength to face the humiliation and discouragement of yet another afternoon in the presence of Snape.

 

“I know. I have to work on it tonight.” Neville slowly walked over to his beside and then to his trunk and dug for his quill and some scrolls. “I have to go to the library. I thought…well do you think Hermione would help me if I asked her? Do you know where she is?”

 

Harry didn’t know where Hermione was and he shook his head negatively. Ron thought that she was in her dormitory. All three boys ventured down to the common room and asked one of the girls to check for Hermione. The girl returned saying that she wasn’t there. The boys knew the only other place she would be, would be the library and they agreed to go find her together.

 

Hermione hadn’t felt quite like herself since her trip through the portal. She had a nagging bit of an ache that radiated down her neck and followed a path down her spine. Hermione was determined to avoid the hospital wing and Mme. Pomphrey. She hadn’t gone near the hospital wing since her polymorphing ‘cat’-astrophe in her second year, choosing instead to believe that time and rest would be her medicine. She had grown tired of resting on her bed and had paced the length and breadth of her dormitory, back and forth in front of the window alone, for what seemed like hours.

 

Hermione had been watching the dragon’s breath rolling across the fields and creeping slowly up the walls of the castle – GlausHarmon would feed tonight she thought to herself. It hadn’t been a conscious decision on her part that she would go and explore the passage that she had fallen into, but more a suggestion seemed to have been born on the mist itself. She not only felt that she must go investigate the tunnel now, but that she must go alone.

 

It was startling for her to find herself standing alone facing the spot in the tunnel that she had marked carefully with an inconspicuous little charm ‘Celo’, which meant simply, ‘keep secret.’ She had picked up that charm from one of the books that she had read from GlausHarmon’s collection.

 

Even after a moment’s thought, she couldn’t recall making her way to the tunnel. It must be the fault of the ache making her walk like an automaton and she rubbed her neck in a rough massage. Hermione shook her head and had a moment of serious trepidation. She couldn’t explain why she had felt the urge to go exploring on her own. She always took any exploration very seriously. She never did anything without the prerequisite preparations – she hadn’t even told anyone where she’d be; she hadn’t even left a note; the boys would worry. Hermione turned and took a step away from the wall with the intention of going to get Harry and Ron to come with her, but she stopped suddenly. Her feet were riveted to the tunnel floor. Panic welled up inside her; she was unable to move.

 

Slowly, a chill, like the breath of someone standing too close, someone disliked or despised caressing her without permission, someone coveting the tender skin on the back of her neck, made her whimper. Numbness coursed through her limbs carried by the chill threading a course over her body. She could feel her wand slipping from her grasp. Hermione fought with herself and balled her fist tightly around her wand. Her feet began moving and involuntarily, she once again faced the wall, her wand readied in her hand. She incanted the countercharm “Appareo” to what appeared to be the solid wall.

 

Hermione gasped and grabbed her stomach as she doubled over. Something painful had punched into her, pounding hard in her midriff and it was burning, searing her. Tears streamed down her cheeks as the pain tore through her insides. She screamed silently, no air entered her lungs to make a sound it had been knocked out of her. Then in the span of a single breath, the pain was gone. With the intake of her first air, a calmness crossed her tear-streaked face.

 

Hermione closed her eyes and listened. She swayed gently like a breeze and heard the voice. She listened to this new voice whispering in her mind. like a wind rustling the green leaves of a tree. It was a friend, encouraging her forward, seducing her with promises of power, caressing her, soothing her. She smiled, a smile born of contentment, of trust, of the promise of fulfillment and of knowledge. “Lumos.” She stepped lightly through the wall into the darkness beyond.

 

Harry and Ron had begun to worry when they reached the library and they couldn’t find Hermione. The boys excused themselves from Neville, telling him they would catch up with him later, and if they found Hermione, they would send her to see him.

 

After asking several other people, none of whom had any idea where Hermione might be, both boys began to get a feeling creeping through them, much like the fog was creeping through the Forbidden Forest. They stopped just outside the Main Hall.

 

“You don’t think that she would have gone to see GlausHarmon do you without telling us?” Ron turned to face Harry.

 

“The fog has been rising for a while, I’m sure that she would know what that meant…” Harry stopped in mid-thought. “You don’t think she’d go down while GlausHarmon was away and…”

 

Ron completed the sentence in his mind, “try to open the portal herself do you?” Ron didn’t even respond. He just lit off down the corridor, with Harry a split-step behind.

 

Neither saw the blond slick-haired Draco step out from behind the statue immediately beside where they had stood. Neither did they notice that they were being paced, step for step.

 

Ron and Harry had raced to the statue and carelessly thrown themselves forward; they were so gripped with fear for Hermione’s safety that they were completely unaware of the eyes that followed them.

 

Draco cautiously crept over and silently entered behind the statue. He had known that Potter and Weasley were up to something, everyone did. He wouldn’t count on the muggle-loving Dumbledore to punish them. Dumbledore had managed to ignore all their rule breaking and turn every blatant misdeed into a matter for reward. This time he would see that they got their reward; he would personally be the one to give it to them.

 

Draco’s father Lucius had demanded that Draco be patient; that he just watch Potter to wait and report back to him. Draco, slithered about silently, watching and waiting for his opportunity like a snake ready to strike. The waiting had been difficult. Draco was not patient; he didn’t like waiting, but this time he was determined to get Potter and Weasley. He would repay them both for the hexes they’d cast on him on the Hogwart’s Express at the end of last year – for the shame they had brought on him and his family. Draco dreamed of the day when Lucius would smile and congratulate his son for his success in ridding the Dark Lord of this nuisance that was Potter.

 

The hatred that Draco felt had burned inside him, much like his pain the many nights he had lain awake in his private room in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies. It had taken all summer to undergo the treatments to cure him of the various woes caused by the hexes. The boils and blights had been painfully purged from his body and Draco survived the constant pain by receiving his succour, his sustenance, his support from his hatred; a hatred that had thrived and fed from his soul and from the plotting of his revenge on Potter.

 

Lucius had noted the change in Draco’s behaviour during the months in the hospital. He commended him on finally taking the proper form of his Malfoy ancestors. Draco had felt a surge of pride and acceptance from his father’s pronouncement and he was anxious to prove himself. It had taken every ounce of his control to wait for Potter to make a mistake, but the moment had come. He watched breathlessly as Potter and Weasley recited the spell and the tunnel mouth appeared before them.

 

Ron and Harry charged down the tunnel. The trek that they had made so many times, that was so familiar these past weeks, seemed suddenly long and foreign. Bursting breathless from the tunnel into the Main Chamber, they quickly scanned for movement. There was no activity, no familiar presence of GlausHarmon; Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

 

Impulsively Ron rushed over to the circular relief of the Phoenix. It looked much larger and more forbidding without GlausHarmon present.

 

Harry ran to join Ron, his heart had been pumping from the long run but now his heart’s rhythm picked up again as he neared the Gate.

 

“We need to wait for GlausHarmon. We can’t do this alone Ron.”

 

 

As he fed on the beast he had brought down, a jolt pierced GlausHarmon’s heart. He threw back his head, “Nooooo!” His roar rent the air of the Forbidden Forest and the foundations of Hogwarts shook with its reverberations. He flung himself into the air and his great fiery-gold wings thrashed the air, forcing trees to snap in his wake and stones half-buried in the ground to roll and flee from the down surges, the micro-bursts of a mighty storm.

 

Once again the Phoenix erupted to life, the red-gold fire like hot lava pulsing through the bird and its surroundings glyphs. Ron’s heart pulsed and pumped faster, matching the increasing speed of the spreading fire.

 

Harry stood just behind Ron and he felt the power building. He knew that they must act quickly; they had to find Hermione.

 

The great Phoenix lifted his head and eyed Ron warily, but awaited the command. Ron stood his ground and shouted, “Patronus Obvius Atrium,” the words that would release the Guardian of the Portal and expose the opening to them. The fire-born bird lifted his wings capturing the air and surging forward revealing the aperture and unleashing the beams of intense light. Ron stuck his hand out beside him in an almost commanding air and Harry grasped it with all his might.

 

Ron had one thing in his mind as he watched the burning liquid spread and the massive bird begin moving and coming to life – he had to rescue Hermione.

 

Harry watched the same scene, his eyes filled with the power, the thrill no less than the first time he saw the mighty Phoenix burst from the huge medallion where it rested in stone until it had been awakened. He knew he would risk anything for his friends, but there was another appeal here, a yearning in his chest and he would like to appease it, to seek it out. Perhaps after they found Hermione…

 

The power quickly became unbearable as the beams revolved and throbbed, stretching out like threads of a net entwining its catch. Ron staggered as the full-force engulfed him. He had been unprepared for the full blast of power and he tore his hand from Harry’s grasp and grabbed both sides of his head. He screamed one word, “Hermione!” and was gone.

 

Harry staggered forward, blinded, reaching, shouting “Ron. “

 

GlausHarmon entered the chamber as Ron disappeared and charged forward to grab Harry as he teetered on the edge of the portal. He closed his massive claws as the bird emerged and rose from the fire and as the portal drained of life and grew dim.

 

GlausHarmon sat back and raised his forepaw. He stared solemnly at the strips of black cloth that were hanging like black moss from his claws.

Chapter 6

Ron’s feet hit the ground hard and he landed on his knees in the soft lush grass. He slowly shook his head thinking it would help dispel the disorientation he was feeling. He raised his eyes and surveyed his surroundings. He was on a grassy knoll that sloped and rolled gently down to a small sleepy village below. There were cows lowing softly in the distance. The birds he had scared up with his sudden appearance and loud grunt on landing, had resettled themselves into the nearby woods and had begun again singing sweetly the melodies of their passage while disregarding his presence.

 

Ron knelt for a moment longer and took stock of his surroundings; he might need to come back. Then he realized as he gazed around his immediate area, that there was no mark of his exit from the portal other than the scuff made by his runners in the soft grass.

 

He noticed one other very important detail – there was no one beside him. He remembered his trip through the Gate and how his eyes had burned and his head had felt like it was about to tear off his shoulders. He remembered grabbing his head with both of his hands and thereby entering the portal alone. As the thought crystallized in his mind, he said aloud to himself, “That’s it then. I’m on my own.”

 

“Not entirely,” came the reply of a deep male voice with a familiar quality. The voice originated from somewhere near him.

 

Ron shot to his feet and immediately drew his wand in a quick defensive gesture. He hurriedly scanned the area seeing no source for the voice.

 

“Where are you? Who is that?”

 

Ron swore that the shadowy figure that emerged from some nearby trees had just apparated there – no sound had he made with any of his movements. “You’d do well to put that away. The folks ‘round here don’t take kindly to wand wavers and those who profess to do magic. It’s not welcome here.”

 

Ron watched warily and took measure of the man as he continued his approach. He was tall and had dark shoulder length hair and a rugged, sun weathered face of indistinct age. His frame was cloaked in a dark green cape that billowed softly behind him like the rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Ron noted that the cape was slung off to one side leaving one shoulder free from obstruction. A large gold medallion clasp and chain secured the cape in place. His clothes were that of a woodsman, a tracker/hunter; the clothes of someone who had spent a lot of time in the forest and was capable of fending for himself. He wore neatly fashioned hides, the remnants attesting to his hunting prowess. The man also carried a deadly looking blade sheathed in a leather scabbard on his hip and a sword, or at least what Ron assumed was some sort of large weapon, strapped behind him, a part of which protruded above his uncloaked shoulder.

 

Ron had not withdrawn his wand, nor had he moved.

 

The man stopped several feet in front of Ron. He eyed Ron up and down before he spoke, “What’s your name son?”

 

Ron hesitated because he wasn’t sure if he liked this stranger calling him ‘son.’ He was certain that he didn’t like hearing him say things like ‘professing to do magic.” That hadn’t earned him a warm place in Ron’s heart. Normally, Ron would have answered immediately, but he had a sudden surge of some latent teenage male hormone that spawned a need to prove him own masculinity and challenge this classic example of male virility standing before him. Ron grasped his wand more tightly and prepared to spit out, “Who are you?” in what he hoped would be his most testosterone-laced voice.  Unfortunately, his voice took that precise moment to crack and it came out more as a squawk then a command.

 

The stranger threw back his head and laughed good-naturedly. “My name is Gideon,” he said with a warm resonance. He looked at Ron and smiled. “I’m here to help you find whatever it is you are looking for.” Gideon finished and extended his hand in greeting.

 

Ron stared momentarily then put his wand down, closed the short distance between them and took the proffered hand in his own. Ron had a few questions. He began with “Who sent you?”

 

“No one sent me.”

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“I’m here to help. You do need help, don’t you?” It was a statement. “Where’s your sidekick?” Gideon was simply being efficient in his questioning but if he noted Ron’s rising irritation, he ignored it.

 

Ron felt at a distinct disadvantage and rather than answering Gideon’s questions, he decided to pose one of his own irritated as he was, “Where’s your sidekick?”

 

“You mean Little John? He’s in the forest.” Gideon chuckled until he saw the look of surprise changing to a look of confusion on Ron’s face. “I’m joking. You don’t read much do you?”

 

Ron frowned realizing that he had not come out the winner in that exchange. He decided to try a different tact. This man was annoyingly like dealing with one of his older brothers. They teased him and made him feel like a kid. “Who are you?”

 

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “I told you that my name is Gideon. I’ve had no desire to change it in this short time.” A twinkle danced in his eyes and a smile pulled at his lips even as he tried to hold it off.

 

Ron re-asserted himself unwilling to take the bait. “I mean who are you really? Why did you just happen to show up? Do you know who I am? How much do you know about me? About why I’m here? How do you know I need help?”

 

Gideon’s leather tanned face had a slight smile on it as he prepared his answers. When he began, he simply started with “I see.”

 

Gideon began to explain, “I see you’re not the overly-trusting type. That’s good. No one will have an easy time pulling the wool over your eyes. We need to talk before we dare go any nearer to the village.” Gideon moved quickly to a sloping piece of ground and sat himself comfortably on the ground. “I don’t know why you are here, only that you’ve just arrived. I happened to be on my way to the village when you ‘appeared’ here before my eyes. As for what I know about you…you have no visible food, no means to hide a sleeping roll, nor do you have any visible transportation. Your clothing identifies you as a stranger to this area and you, yourself mentioned that you are on your own. You looked hurt or ill and you appear a bit young to be out on your own taking care of yourself in the wilderness. As for your name, you haven’t supplied me with one just yet. As for me, I live by providing extra game meat for the village. I trade for the items I need. I have a small place in the forest a ways from here.”

 

“I’m Ron, Ron Weasley.” He wouldn’t admit that to Gideon that he could use some help. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he had no food or blankets to sleep.” Ron did walk over and extend his hand again in the form of a proper introduction and it was accepted warmly.

 

Gideon chewed a long piece of grass that he had pulled from the ground and looked to be enjoying the action as he once again sized Ron up. “I won’t bother asking you how you got here. We have had other travellers come here from time to time, appearing and then just as abruptly, leaving. All of them had one thing in common. They were looking for something. So I ask you again Ron Weasley, what are you looking for?”

 

“It’s not a thing. It’s a person and her name is Hermione.”

 

Like waves crashing on the shore, a smile broke across Gideon’s weathered face. “Ah, looking for a woman…” He rose to stand beside Ron. He reached out and put  his arm around Ron’s shoulder. With knowing smile he chuckled, “You do need my help then.”

 

Ron frowned again. He wasn’t so sure about that!

 

Harry was feeling warmed and free. Light danced all around him. He forgot about Ron and Hermione. He forgot about Dumbledore and Hogwarts. Even thoughts of Voldemort couldn’t penetrate his joy.

 

Harry could hear his mother and his father chatting. Even straining he couldn’t hear them clearly, but he smiled knowing it was them and reveling in the blanket of security and love. He wasn’t sure how long he had basked in the lights, but he began to feel the rhythm slowly change, and with the change, came the pull downward. Harry tried desperately to grab on, to hold onto something, anything, but there was no substance, only memories.

 

His disappointment was complete when he noted the stillness. No motion. No voices. No rhythm. Just silence.

 

He opened his eyes to a strange room. Harry had landed in the center of it. It was another circular room much like his first trip through the portal, but with some differences. The room was awash with the glow of hundreds of candles. The candles floated in place, flickering and wavering, bobbing and dancing, while giving off an eerie blue white glow. Harry focused through the flickering light and pivoted his body as his eyes scanned around the room. Doors. The walls were devoid of pictures; in their stead were doors, all perfectly identical in shape and size.

 

Harry could see nothing else in the room but the suspended candles and doors so he moved forward having randomly chosen a door. As he reached to grab hold of a doorknob, he was stopped with his arm extended, by a voice.

 

“You don’t want to choose that one! Come over here!”

 

Harry spun to find the originator of the voice. All he saw was a door slightly ajar across the room. He strode over with the intention of going through it. Harry slowed as he crossed the room there was a rising sound and he began to listen.

 

A hundred hushed voices began beckoning to him. The doors started opening of their own volition. Harry drew his wand and turned around and around catching what he thought were glimpses of movement. The candles began revolving around and up and down. Harry became disoriented as he tried to pinpoint the source of any of the voices. They grew louder and more insistent, demanding his attention. Harry’s head started to swim. He knew he had to get out of the room; he had to focus, to block out the voices. He needed to clear his mind.

 

He struggled to keep calm in the chaos that was the room. Through the litany of voices that were increasing in volume, the noise from the slamming doors, his dodging attempts to avoid the candles that were now chasing him…his eyes could no longer focus. He crouched down into a tight ball position and tried to recapture the serenity of the trip through the portal. With his eyes screwed shut, his wand in hand, his other hand over his one ear, he began to concentrate on slowing his breathing. Harry was able to center on one particular voice, a familiar one. The voice was smooth and gentle, soft and loving. It was his mother’s voice he convinced himself. It became louder the more he focused and Harry began to smile. Just as Harry began to relax something intruded; there was another voice trying to break through.

 

“Help me Harry! We’ve got to find her. Over here.”

 

Harry was torn which way should he go. His dilemma broke his concentration causing all the voices to start rising again and the candles to renew their fury. He dropped to the floor and clutched both of his ears in an effort to block out the noise. Unknowingly, he began to sift through the voices like so many grains of sand, searching for the one he desired. He was searching for a voice long absent from his life, the one voice that would fill the hole in his heart.

 

“No Harry, don’t listen. It’s someone else’s turn. You need to be with your family, the family that loves you. Come here Harry.”  The voice soothed and beckoned Harry forward. It grew in intensity and blocked out all the other voices. Ron’s voice faded into the background until it was heard no more. Harry was consumed with his need to see his mother, and his desire to have a family and talk to his father – to touch them and have them hold him in a warm embrace.

 

“Follow my voice and listen.”

 

With his eyes still shut, Harry stood and walked slowing in the direction of the voice. He found himself in front of one of the multitudes of doors, with his hand resting on the doorknob. The room had grown silent and still except for the feminine voice.

 

“Open the door Harry and pass beyond the threshold.”

 

Harry did exactly as his mom asked without the slightest hesitation. Harry opened his eyes as he entered a long dimly lit hallway. He adjusted his glasses and squinted at a door that was visible on the distant end of the hallway. Harry looked back, there was no door behind him, only endless hallway and so he began moving towards the door.

 

No longer did he hear the voice of his mother. A new voice now demanded Harry’s attention, a male voice of wisdom and learning, one that represented authority and responsibility. “Harry you must listen - you have to make a choice before you can continue with your journey. I have a something for you to decipher, the answer will help make clear to you, your choices.”

 

“You must find an answer before you can leave this place.”

 

The voice began to change as it commenced its recital of the riddle:

 

           On the face to many, a circle, simple and round,

           It passes many stages, some of which are profound,

           Many twists into it are woven and wound,

           The answer, you task, needs to be found.

 

           Open your arms, encircle, embrace,

           Look to your heart, that inner place,

           Solving the riddle, now it’s a race,

           By your action or not, a death you can’t face.

 

           Forward, not back, even though you may yearn,

           Stopping for no one, a lesson you must learn,

           You need to muster the inner strength to discern,

           Will your action refrain or reach out adding a turn.

 

           Open your arms, encircle, embrace,

           Look to your heart, that inner place,

           Solving the riddle, now it’s a race,

           By your action or not, a death you can’t face.

           

           The voices for you, they have planted a seed,

           The choice is yours, the one in the greatest of need,

           The ones you love depend on this warning to heed,

           Choose not that which fills only holes of want and greed.

 

           Open your arms, encircle, embrace,

           Look to your heart, that inner place,

           Solving the riddle, now it’s a race,

           By your action or not, a death you can’t face.

 

 

Harry wasn’t paying much attention – actually none at all. With a certainty he couldn’t explain, he knew that his parents were waiting behind the door at the end of the hallway.

 

The voice insisted, “Harry, the answer must be found.” The voice no longer sounded familiar in any form, but Harry failed to notice, so intent was his focus on the door at the end of the hallway.

 

Harry barely noticed as he made his way down the hall that its walls were covered in a dark wood paneling that spanned the ceiling to the floor. After a few minutes, he became dimly aware that he seemed not to be making any real progress, although it was hard to tell, every panel, one following the other, was the exactly the same as the one before, with the exception of the panels housing the light sconces, which were all the same as the each other.

 

His attention was drawn to a flutter ahead, and he slowed his pace momentarily. As he reached the spot, he paused to reach out and grab a piece of paper, a scroll that hung suspended, clearly within his reach and open to read. He scanned the words and saw near the bottom the phrase:

 

“Open your arms, encircle, embrace,

           Look to your heart that inner place,

           Solving the riddle, now it’s a race,

           By your action or not, a death you can’t face.”

 

Harry crumpled the scroll and tossed it away, hearing strike the paneling and fall to the floor as he set off again.

 

Harry began to run slowly at first. As he ran, his robes flew out behind him and the hallway stretched out before him – the door never seeming to grow closer, always extending further out of his reach. No matter how fast he ran the door was the same distance from him. He ran on. The voice had begun repeating the riddle, but even as the stitches in his sides forced him to stop and he had to lean against the wall of the hallway gasping, he ignored the words to riddle, listening only to his own breathing.

 

The refrain of the riddle was being repeated like a chant or an incantation. Harry refused to hear; he was fixated on the door. He felt compelled to reach it. Even as he strained to see the outlines of the door, ahead of him something began to fall from the ceiling down to the floor to obscure his view. It was approaching him like storm clouds on a horizon, a storm that was confined to the hallway. Harry wondered what it might be or where he could go, having nowhere to hide he watched intently as it thickened and approached. Thousands of pieces of paper bombarded him like a strong wind drives the snow in winter. He bent forward leaning into the wind and the paper flurry – holding his arm up to stop the paper from cutting into his face. He walked through the storm, all the while the voice was chanting in the background, nearly drowned out by the noise of the paper storm and still Harry refused to listen.

 

Once his breathing normalized, he once again set off running, leaning into the churning mass of paper, slipping as his feet scattered the piles now accumulated on the floor. He wouldn’t quit – he would reach the door – he wouldn’t stop. The paper storm stopped as suddenly as it had began and he continued. He ran and ran and ran for what seemed like miles and still he grew no nearer to his desire. Eventually, the pain became so strong and his breathing was so laboured, that he collapsed to the floor. Harry curled up over his knees on the floor, trying to coerce his legs to hold his weight and carry him onward. Tears mingled with the sweat that streamed down his face. This was his chance to have his family back again.

 

The thought of his parents drove him to stagger to his feet, his body screaming for respite. Doggedly he ran until his legs failed him again and he collapsed. No longer able to stand, he began to crawl forward on his hands and knees. The door remained ever distant even as he clawed at the flooring, inching forward, whimpering like a small child struggling to gain access to something being held out of his grasp. He needed his family, he couldn’t stop…he wouldn’t.

 

Sweat soaked his robes so that they clung to his legs like ropes dragging him back. Salt burned his swollen eyes. When he no longer had the strength left to crawl or claw his way, his head fell to the floor and his body was racked with sobs. His misery was complete. He had been denied his family once again. His arms and legs ached but he no longer cared. He couldn’t reach the door, the door that separated him from his family. His throat was parched and dry. His voice was barely a rasp when he cried out, “Help me Mom. Help me Dad.”

 

Harry slipped into a state of semi-consciousness; it was there that the words of the riddle began to force their way into his mind. Harry felt something rolled up and clutched in his sweat-soaked hand. His body began drifting, floating as a feather on a gentle breeze. He was doubtful that he was truly floating, but he just in case, he willed himself to approach the door. Certainty filled him when he felt the doorknob turning in his hand and warmth like that of bright sunshine surrounded him. The gentle voice had returned and he was lulled into a deep and peaceful sleep.

 

Draco smiled at his success; his patience had finally been rewarded. He had to return to the surface and report to his father that he had found the single most vital component in his enemies’ armament – the Gate of Gryffindor.

 

It had long been surmised that such a center existed, but none before him had ever found any clue as to its whereabouts or any proof of its existence. Now, he had both the location and proof. The most significant piece to the puzzle was that he also knew the words to activate the Gate. Lucius would not only be proud of Draco, but he would ensure that Draco himself would lead the Death Eaters back and unleash their power against it – hopefully with Potter and Weasley both still locked inside. His glory would be his father’s glory and ultimately that of Voldemort.

 

Draco forced his thoughts back to his more immediate situation, he had one small problem – well a large one actually and it had flown in with a speed that he cared not to put to the test. Draco had been filled with terror at the first sight of GlausHarmon raging into the chamber as he watched Ron and then Harry disappeared into the near blinding light radiating from the portal. Draco watched intently and silently as GlausHarmon sat staring at his talons in great despair before him. In minutes, he had formulated a plan in his mind. It was tricky, but his only chance to make it clear of the chamber mouth without being seen or heard.

 

He whispered almost to himself with his wand in hand, “Tacet Totalus.” Draco had enveloped himself in a bubble of total silence.

 

Normally, even a whisper like that would have sounded like a megaphone announcement to GlausHarmon, but he was in such anguish at his inability to prevent Ron’s or Harry’s entry into the portal, that he failed to focus any further than his talons and the shreds of cloth that still hung there, his mind rife with self-recriminations.

 

Draco had felt a great surge of pride as he turned and moved unobserved in the darkness up the tunnel towards the surface. He stopped in short intervals to listen for any pursuit; there was none that he could detect. As he ran on further and at greater lengths, his elation had been building a pace with his increasing speed. Just as he thought it would be safe to use his wand for luminescence, he crashed headlong into someone. Draco fell silently as a paper fluttering to the floor. His head thumped hard on the wall of the tunnel and he slipped to the floor unconscious.

 

Someone stood over him watching him warily. It waited, but there was no movement. It bent down quickly and checked him for signs of life. He lived. Draco was hoisted magically with a spell and directed like a limp rag doll stealthily down the tunnel. Backtracking only a few strides, Draco’s lifeless body was removed from the main tunnel and escorted off into a darkened side tunnel.

 

GlausHarmon shook himself from his despair. He needed to convene the Counsel of Ancient Ones, the seers and prophets of ages, and he had to do it quickly. Without further delay, he set up powerful wards against the further entry to the Gate. He berated himself for not having done so in the first place; even Ancient Ones were capable of feeling guilt.

 

His massive red-gold girth turned abruptly and he entered the tunnel mouth that Harry, Ron and Hermione had frequented. He traveled along a short distance until he came to opening that to the naked eye, or more correctly, to the human naked eye, was not there. GlausHarmon took a moment to beam with pride at Hermione’s talent for noting tunnel construction and her, albeit inadvertent, discovery of this tunnel. A broom closet Ron had called it…if he had only known…

Hermione had stepped through the tunnel mouth in a euphoric state, relieved after the pain she had just endured. She held her wand out, “Lumos”, but she knew the way, the One had no need of light, but allowed her that convenience. She was being lead; her mind was not in control of her body, as she threaded her way passed the wards and charms in the dark tunnel. She had not made it this journey before, but she had made the journey many times before. The power that was seeing through her eyes knew every step of the way - Hermione was simply an observer in her own body and aware that she moved but was unable to change her course or direct her body, she wasn’t unlike a puppet – bound by some invisible strings.

 

The tunnel was smaller than the other tunnels she had entered in GlausHarmon’s network and more roughly hewn. This one, unlike the other tunnels, had a dampness, a staleness, and a deadness of air. At length, Hermione was directed to an open chamber. Layers of dust from ages of disuse pothered in rolling curls around her feet with each step she took. Cobwebs thick as cotton blankets covered the various surfaces of the chamber and hung suspended in long strands like greying hair from the ceiling. Ancient artifacts scattered about the room, looking grotesque and deformed, misshapen by ages of accumulated grime.

 

Bidden to sit, Hermione perched almost clumsily on a chair. A wave of nausea overtook her as she was partly released from her possession and partial control of her body was returned to her. Panic welled insider her as she realized she was powerless to stop the control of her body.

 

She sat shaking in fear and frustration waiting in the stillness for the next task she would undertake. She knew there would be another task, why else would she have been subjected to this elaborate control.

 

Hermione had begun to slowly regain her composure. She was a witch after all, and her training had to count for something. She memorized the room and tried to commit to her memory what she could distinguish of various shapes and forms.

 

Hermione determined that when she at last returned to GlausHarmon she would expose this place to him. She would beseech him to help her. Hermione would have to start at the beginning, she struggled to recall how all of this had begun…

 

She was laying on her stomach in the dark wrestling with her fear and trying to calm her breathing. She had just tripped, she had been so full of eagerness to meet with GlausHarmon that she had stumbled and fallen into the tunnel.  She enjoyed her few private minutes alone with GlausHarmon before the boys got there. These few minutes were precious, sharing times with an intellect the likes of which Hermione had never know existed.

 

She pulled free her wand, “Lumos.” The light did little to dispel the eerie darkness and nothing to alter the deadness of the air. Hermione had a bad feeling about this particular tunnel and the last thing she felt like doing was exploring. As she gingerly stood, checking herself for injury, her eye caught sight of a book that had fallen open to the floor.

 

Even as she reached for its age-darkened cover she ignored the warning bells that clanged loudly in her mind. Hermione’s eyes scanned the page, trying to decipher the meaning. Somehow, these glyphs looked familiar in some way…where had she seen them or ones like them before? Reaching in her bag, she deftly pulled out her decyphon and traced the words on a scroll she had also extracted from her ready supply. She pulled the deciphered words from the decyphon and held them up, bringing her wand closer to light the page.

 

    These words release that which had been locked away.
   Nevermore hidden, now free to fulfill the prophecy.

 

Hermione failed to notice the flood of light shimmering across the page, or the black smoke billowing from the binding of the books pages until it had encompassed her legs and was rising up her body. She gasped, leaping over the open book on the floor and bolting from the tunnel, but the damage had been done. She had been exposed to the evil that she had effectively unlocked. She felt slightly nauseous as she entered the main tunnel.

 

Its affects were weak at first, causing her to lie to GlausHarmon, Harry and Ron when they questioned her on her whereabouts and why she was late. The presence had now grown stronger and was capable it seemed of controlling her almost completely for periods of time. She had kept the words and her decyphon stowed safely in her dormitory; she felt that they could be an important clue to saving her. Hermione hoped that Harry or Ron, worried about her disappearance, might come upon her things when they thought to search her room. Surely, someone would miss her presence, but until then, she needed to think, to formulate a plan. Harry and Hermione had practiced throwing off curses together. She intended to try and make use of their practice but she need to reserve her attempt until the entity neared the end of its period of control, when it was at its weakest. Hermione didn’t know how much time she had before the entity would be able to control her completely and require little or no rest, but she knew it gained strength with each passing moment and to delay her attempt was to lose her life.

 

The nausea washed over her like a flood until the bile rose in her throat and she began to gag. Sweat broke out across her brow as she fought to keep the remnants of her last meal down. As suddenly as it began, the internal battle subsided. Hermione had lost and had become the observer once again.

 

Her body swept gracefully across the room, to a shelf of what appeared to be grotesque figurines. Her hand unerringly grabbed three similar figures. Hermione’s face glowed with an evil radiance as she gazed at the figures, while Hermione the observer recoiled inside. The three figures were all screaming, faces frozen in states of horror and pain.

 

Hermione watched as her hands caressed the horrific outlines of these bodies. Her hand roughly grabbed her robe and she placed the figures into one of the inner pockets. She watched as her hand lifted a few other items, carved faces each recording a different stage of terror, another ancient book, and a longish metal rod with a flower-like flare on the end. On closer examination, the end didn’t consist of flower petals but intricately carved snake heads.

 

Hermione saw herself grabbing several other items and a few of those made their way to her pockets. She turned and strode out of the chamber carefully making her way out of the tunnel. Observer Hermione started trying to feel her way around the entity’s presence, she had been too shocked to try previously but for her efforts she made her physical-self fall down. The entity renewed its control, shoring up whatever mental defenses Hermione had managed to nudge. Rather than feel despair, Hermione felt triumphant now she made an attempt to battle her internal enemy and had seen that she could have results.

 

She exited back into the main tunnel and had gone only a few paces when something ran into her at full speed. Hermione’s body absorbed most of the impact indirectly as the person was deflected off into a wall. Hermione knew that even though she wasn’t feeling the pain now that she would pay with several deep bruises at very least, for that encounter.

 

Her body stood over the unmoving form. Hermione strained to see whom it was hoping beyond dreams that it was Ron or Harry and that they would be able to save her.

 

“Lumos” came from her lips as she felt her body bending down to check for life in the body. Hermione gasped as the body was rolled over and the face became clear.

 

Draco Malfoy! Hermione the observer screamed, but no sound was heard in the tunnel.

 

The entity Hermione simply mobilized the limp body with her wand and directed it back into the side tunnel from which she had just emerged.

 

Hermione shivered. She knew as she watched Draco, or rather his unconscious form, begin to drift behind her, that this did not bode well for any of them.

Disclaimer: These stories are based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. Other citations will be made where necessary.