Lethe's Lament

Lethe's Lament

Thick strong perfume, candle smoke and rich tea stung his nose. Groups of students huddled over cups and whispered, scribbling bizarre shapes on their papers.

Divination. Harry scanned the hoard of baubles and trinkets lining the tower-top room. If something important was going to happen, surely you'd be able to see it coming?

Hermione tilted her teacup to one side and squinted into it. 'I don't see anything…' She swirled her leaves around. 'It's just bits of leaf.'

Harry stared into his. Dark grains settled beneath flakes of leaf and tea dregs hung in the base of the cup, defying any attempt to see more. He sighed and drummed his fingers on the table, bouncing his knee as the stillness twisted into impatience.

'Harry?' Hermione set down her cup and rested her hand on his. 'Are you okay?'

I'm fine. The knot of frustration tightened in his throat, choking the words. This is a waste of time.

'Do you want a puzzle?' She pulled her notebook from her pocket. 'I can make one for you.'

'No.' He took a deep breath and tried to swallow the storm within. 'I want — I want—'

The china cup shattered. Tea pooled across the desk and dregs swirled through the scarred wood, settling like dust.

Trelawney swept over, shaking her head. 'Divination is a subtle art, it requires patience.' A shrill scream burst from her lips. 'The Grim!'

Harry glanced up. 'The Grim?'

'Death comes for you,' Professor Trelawney whispered. 'The dark hound is its herald.'

The last enemy. Jagged yellow teeth, matted dark hair, gleaming eyes and a lolling tongue flashed before the eye of Harry's mind. The storm surged beneath his ribs, clawing at his heart, ripping the breath from his lungs. A final victory.

Hermione snorted. 'Nonsense. These are tea leaves.' She threw a glance at him out of the corner of her eye. 'Let's go, Harry. We won't find anything important up here.'

She dragged him down from the tower, stomping out into the courtyard. Harry stumbled after her, struggling to breathe, wrestling with the fist of emotion crushing his heart.

'The last thing you need is to listen to that fraud,' Hermione muttered, tugging her notebook out. 'Her nonsense is worse than no help at all.'

A shadow flitted between the stone columns. Harry tracked it across the courtyard. Dark fur brushed past pale stone; yellow, jagged teeth snarled from beneath gleaming dark eyes.

The Grim. A bright, cold thrill burst through him and he snatched his wand free, staggering toward it. Death. Two pale graves marked with dark letters hung on his heart, heavy as lead. The last enemy.

'Harry!' Hermione cried. 'Where are you going?'

The Grim shook itself and darted away out toward the trees. Harry sprinted after it, stumbling through the fringes of the Forbidden Forest.

A soft chill sank into him, seeping deep, biting through him to the bone like cold steel. The Grim bounded out of sight and a hundred skeletal figures swirled around him through the pine trunks, drifting over mounds of brown, dead needles.

The storm inside crumbled as they circled closer, trailing their ragged shrouds and filling the clearing with their hoarse, rattling breath. A terrible hollow despair rose to swallow him, snuffing him out like a candle in the night wind.

Death. Harry closed his eyes and let himself sink down into the dark.

His eyes snapped open.

Soft shadow swirled in shining silver, faint as a wisp of mist, silent as streaming smoke; it curled and coiled beneath cold glass like dark water flowing beneath winter ice. A torrent of searing yearning bubbled and boiled beneath his ribs.

'Come on, Harry,' Dumbledore murmured. 'It doesn't do to dwell on dreams.'

There're no dreams left. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and balled his fists. Just the shadow of something missing. Something important.

'C'mon, my boy,' a paper-thin voice whispered. 'Give it a wave.'

He opened his eyes to towering stacks of wand boxes. A long, thin wand protruded from his fingers, trailing silver sparks like a comet.

'Marvellous.' Ollivander watched the sparks shower to the floor with pale eyes and a small smile. 'What a strong bond… You are destined to do great things, my boy. Things most witches or wizards can only dream of.'

The simmering cauldron of yearning roiled in his chest. 'Something important?'

'Yes, Tom,' Ollivander murmured. 'Something great.'

Lethe's Lament

Fierce yellow eyes gleamed in the long grass as a dark shadow dragged a flailing, yelling Ron Weasley toward the huge, gnarled Whomping Willow.

'Why is Ron involved?' Hermione murmured, her fingers creeping toward the notebook in her pocket.

Another memory? Was Ron involved in reality? Is that why he keeps reappearing? She twisted 'round to Harry.

Short grass stretched away into the shadows of the towers.

'Harry!' She stared 'round and glimpsed him running through the grass into the shadow of the Whomping Willow, wand in hand. 'Harry, stop!'

He skidded to a halt and a branch the width of her waist hammered into the ground in front of him.

'Come back here!' Hermione cried. 'We can't get near the tree.'

Harry stared after the vanishing Grim and balled his fists. 'But—'

'We'll get there,' she murmured. 'Come back this way. A few extra seconds here and it's more likely we solve the puzzle later.'

He prowled back to her side, pacing the grass in small circles, tapping his fingers on his thigh and breathing fast as the wind. 'What?!'

'We need to get past the tree.'

Harry stared at her, a wild glint in his eyes. 'What tree?'

Hermione blinked. 'The Whomping Willow!' She grabbed her wand and shone a light on the thick trunk. 'It just nearly crushed you!'

Harry's knuckles turned white around his wand. 'There's nothing there.' His breath caught and his drumming increased in pace. 'You're wasting time.' He took a step forward.

Hermione snatched him back from within the tree's reach. 'It's right there. It's a big tree. Just — look where I'm pointing the light!'

'I don't want to!' His hand flashed up to press at his temple, nails biting into his skin until blood smeared his fingertips. 'I want — I need—'

'What if it's important?' Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

Harry froze.

'It could be important, right?' she whispered. 'And it's only a few seconds.'

There must be a reason he can't see things. She massaged his shoulder as his breathing slowed. He couldn't hear me talking to Salazar, either. Or see the boggart.

Harry stared at where the Whomping Willow loomed and grimaced. Blood trickled from his ear down his cheek and dripped from his clenched jaw.

'It's a big tree,' he whispered. 'Strange.'

Hermione tugged her notebook out and scribbled a line of shorthand down. 'We need to freeze it somehow or it'll squish us.'

'Freeze it?' He raised his wand. 'Aguamenti.'

'Water won't—'

Great spines of ice thrust from the ground, spreading through the branches of the Whomping Willow. The tree shivered and shuddered and creaked, shedding leaves like a bird moulting feathers, but the ice held fast.

Incredible. She gaped at the spell, trying to imagine the innate gift required to change a simple conjuring charm to a prison of ice. He's as amazing as Professor Dumbledore.

'Done.' Harry sprinted forward across the grass as cracks spread through the ice. 'We just need to press the knot before it gets free.'

'The…' Hermione watched him drive his knee into a circle of bark and the tree froze. 'The knot. Right.'

He knows that, but he can't see the tree? She gnawed her lip as he rushed into a dark passage in the roots, sprinting after him into the dark. This dream's a half-finished jigsaw.

Harry's footsteps stopped ahead of her as she stumbled out into a crumbling wooden shack. The bright, clear light of the full moon poured in through the gaps in the walls.

'Give me the rat!' a man rasped. 'Give him to me, boy! I will explain everything afterward but you must give me the rat.'

'Pettigrew,' Harry murmured from the other side of thin wooden walls, frustration darkening his tone. 'The traitor.'

Hermione darted 'round the corner, wand raised. 'Harry!'

'Yes. The traitor. Give him to me.' A grime-smeared man loomed over Ron's sprawled form, baring his yellowed teeth and clutching Ron's wand in his fist. 'He murdered them and got me sent to Azkaban. Left me caged in my own head! Trapped in my nightmares!'

Sirius Black. The air slipped from her lungs. Why's he after a rat?

'No — there's something — I need...' Harry took a deep breath and held up Ron's pet by his tail, watching it writhe and squeal. 'Change,' he said, a bright, wild gleam in his eye. 'If you haven't changed in three seconds, I'll crush you under my foot.'

The rat's body shifted, swelling into a man. 'Harry,' he whispered, pawing at Harry's feet from the floor. 'Harry, please.'

'Wormtail!' Sirius Black snarled, raising his wand.

A bright green flash of light washed through the rotting shack. Hermione flinched back against the wall as Sirius Black thudded to the floor, his eyes wide and blank.

'Get out of my way,' Harry muttered.

Pettigrew let out a little whimper and huddled back into the corner. 'It wasn't him, Harry! It was me. It was me. You should've killed me!'

Harry stared at him, tapping his foot on the floor and drumming his fingers on his wand. 'This isn't it.' He hammered his fist into the wall, smashing through rotting wood and tearing his arm open on the splinters. Blood spattered the floor and trickled down his arm. 'Why is it never it?'

'Harry,' Hermione whispered, edging forward, hunting for words. 'It's okay. It's not that you've failed to find it, you've just found a lot of other things first.'

'Blood,' he murmured, watching the crimson gush down his arm.

'You need to stop the bleeding,' she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. 'Do you know how or should we head for the Hospital Wing?'

Harry stared at the wound with a distant frown, his wand tip hovering over the red gash. 'Vulnera sanentur.'

The cut crept closed.

'Well done,' Hermione said. 'Now let's sort out this person, then we can try and find the next puzzle, okay?'

Damn. Her blood ran cold. I shouldn't have said it like—

'Fulminis,' Harry snapped.

A bright white light seared at her eyes and the shack exploded into splinters. She buried her face in Harry's shoulder and held her breath.

'It's okay,' he said. 'I've sorted him.'

Hermione forced her eyes open and found the glowing splinters and swirling ash over the body of Sirius Black and a scatter of shattered wood. He killed Ron. Her stomach lurched, surging up, and Hermione hurled her dinner onto the wall in an acrid rush.

Harry watched with a small crease in his forehead. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine,' she gasped, forcing her stomach still and wiping her lips, ignoring the bitter taste lingering on her tongue. 'I just — I don't like dead people.'

They're not real. She clung to the thought like a lifeline. They're just part of the dream.

A high howl rang out from the trees and a thin form slunk through the trunks toward them.

'Harry,' she whispered. 'Harry that's—'

'Lupin.' His wand slipped from his sleeve into his hand. 'He forgot to take his Wolfsbane Potion tonight.'

'Don't…' Hermione put a hand on his forearm. 'He doesn't deserve it.'

'He's in the way.' Harry's eyes smouldered and his face twisted. 'And it hurts. I can't breathe!'

'Okay,' she murmured. 'It's okay. We'll find what's missing.'

He's not real, anyway. Harry's real. I might be real. Nothing else is. She took a deep breath as a flash of green rippled through the trees. And he keeps getting worse.

Harry strode back toward the castle through the grass, his fingers pressed against his temple, muttering under his breath.

She glanced back at the ashes settling on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. This is a nightmare, not a dream. Hermione dashed after Harry. Caged. Trapped in nightmares. Clarity stole her breath and she stumbled to a halt in the cold grass. You're caged. This is a prison. Tears sprang to her eyes. And they stole something important from you so you'd suffer. How long have you been in here searching for it?

'Before, you must've saved me.' She dashed her tears away and darted after him through the dusk. 'This time, I'm going to save you.'

Lethe's Lament

A hush crept over the cheering stadium and the crowd stilled. Ron and all his brothers gaped down at the empty grass, slack-jawed and glass-eyed.

'Urgh,' Hermione muttered, folding her arms beside him. 'Boys. It's basically a natural love potion. And I bet they'd change their mind if they knew about the beaks and feathers.'

A sharp twinge bit at Harry's temple and the storm stirred within, clawing at his heart. He drummed his fingers on the seat and bounced his knee, throwing sharp glances into the crowd.

'Are you okay?' Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. 'I can make you a puzzle, if you like?'

'No,' he murmured, dragging out his breaths to still the pounding of his heart. 'No fake puzzles. I'm fine.'

She bit her lip as he leant back and closed his eyes as if the storm within wasn't shrieking like a hurricane, ripping through him like a tornado of glass shards.

Warmth seeped into his cheek, turning hot against his skin and creeping down his side.

Harry flinched back and hauled himself to his feet in a swirl of thick, acrid smoke. Soft, warm ash carpeted the ground beneath his feet and drifted out of the sky like snow.

'Lacero!' A thin, dark-robed wizard limped toward him through the silence.

Harry let the spell sail past him into the smoke and unleashed a hail of curses, ripping through the wizard's shield, punching holes through his chest and tearing his wand-arm off at the elbow.

'No,' the wizard rasped, crumpling to his knees. 'No. I can't fail him. I can't.' He touched his fingertips to the blood spurting from his elbow and bowed his head. 'How could I fail him?' he whispered.

Harry blinked.

A straw-haired boy hunched on the smoking wooden floor, one arm slung against his chest. 'I can't go back,' he muttered, smearing tears off his face. 'I can't. All I wanted — All I wanted was for him to love me. Not even that! Just — just to stop hating me, because I don't see the world how he does. I thought if I could kill you, he'd be proud, but I can't even do that. I dreamt about it every night and I still failed.'

Harry stood over him, wand in his hand, a churning, seething knot of yearning coiled in his breast. 'Dreams are dust.' The words slipped off his tongue, rising up from a little whisper in the back of his mind. 'Dandelion seeds drifting away on a cold wind. Shadows hovering behind glass. We dwell on them and our lives fade away.' He slipped his wand back into his sleeve and held out his hand. 'When there are no dreams left, then we see the truth. When there are no dreams left, we have the chance to do something important. Something greater than shallow, common, little wishes...'

'Something great?' the boy whispered, raising his head and staring at him with wide, bright blue eyes. He swallowed, then reached out and took Harry's hand, letting Harry pull him to his feet. 'What must I do, my lord?'

Harry let a small smile creep across his lips and closed his eyes. 'No more dreams, Bartemius. Just something important.'

'Something important?' Dumbledore's voice rose from beyond his closed eyelids. 'And just what is that? What is your goal here?'

My goal?

He opened his eyes. 'Something important.'

Dumbledore steepled his fingers over the desk, his rapier sharp blue eyes peering over them. 'I must admit, I wasn't expecting an application from you, and I can't really say with any honesty that I would even consider you, but this is an excellent opportunity for us to have an honest conversation. I would like to know what it is I will be opposing. This something important.'

The collection of Headmasters' portraits peered down at him from among the shelves, cabinets and magical curiosities.

The yearning howled in his heart, a blade of ice, so cold it burnt, twisting and twisting in his breast. 'It's all there is.'

'When I was a young man, I dreamt of doing something important and changing the world,' Dumbledore murmured. 'I saw this grand, bright future. Its price was measured in blood and it was not until I felt some measure of the pain I would've inflicted on others that I realised there are some dreams best not dwelt on.'

'You were weak,' Harry hissed. 'You felt the sting of sacrifice and you fled from it.'

Dumbledore sighed and plucked a bright-striped sweet from a small ball among the stacks of books, popping it into his mouth. 'One man doesn't have the right to decide what our world should be. What's important to him might be nothing to a hundred others.'

'Then who chooses?' he demanded. 'Those rats out there? They gnaw and claw at each other, trapped chasing selfish little dreams of their own. Do you let them choose? Would they even look up from their petty little lives long enough to try and choose something selfless?'

'I don't make decisions for others.' Dumbledore crunched his sweet and swallowed. 'I make my choices and I try to advise others in what I feel is the best direction for them. Anything more risks a descent into tyranny. The voice of the many determines what is important.'

'You are wrong, Dumbledore.' He kicked his chair back and rose. 'You are wrong.'

'I have heard all these words before, you know.' Dumbledore rose from his chair and gestured toward the door. 'The man who spoke them to me was a greater wizard than I, or any other I have met, and when he spoke of doing something important, he spoke of a beautiful thing, a great good worth paying any price for. He was wrong. I hope you come to realise this sooner than he did, Tom.'

'He was right.' He balled his fists and closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, sucking the heat and sharpness of the storm up onto his tongue. 'I will be greater. I will be the greatest wizard that ever lived. Nothing will stop me.'

'I will stop you.' A green-eyed girl stood over shattered furniture and before ruined walls, her sweat-drenched red hair clinging to her skin and her wand levelled at his chest. 'I will kill you.'

'If you choose to be an obstacle,' he said, drawing bright sparks to swirl around his wand. 'I will get rid of you.'

I have to find it. The yearning swelled within him, a fistful of razors clenched tight about his throat. It's all there is. And I need it.

White lightning flashed from his wand. A small smile spread across the girl's lips as she burst into ash and the splinters of her wand showered across the floor. Half the house exploded behind her and debris showered away into the night.

Cool air whispered over his skin as the dust and ash settled.

'I will not be stopped.' He stepped over the girl's ashes toward a blue cradle, wrestling with the heat of the hurricane howling in his heart. 'I am here. I am great.'

Is this it? A bright, clear thrill trickled through his veins, a shock of cold swirling through his blood, and the storm of yearning swelled to a crescendo, cutting through him like a white-hot flame. It must be. Surely. This time.

A dark-haired, green-eyed baby stared up at him from beneath a white blanket, chewing his small fist.

The thrill drained away and his heart sank after it into a cold, dark pit.

No. He levelled his wand tip at the child's forehead. This isn't it.

A brilliant emerald flash washed the world away.

He opened his eyes.

A single soft shade swirled in shining silver, hovering beyond cold glass, and the storm tore its way through the space beneath his ribs with thick, sharp, hot claws.

Something missing. Something important. He stepped forward and pressed his fingertips to the glass, letting the cold of the mirror seep through his skin. What are you? Are you something great? A soft, hollow ache crept upon him. Will I ever find you?

Lethe's Lament

Students bustled to the benches, sliding into their seats and muttering to one another beneath the bright, clear summer blue of the Great Hall's ceiling.

Hermione chewed her lip and dropped her eyes to her list, crossing out words one at a time. All these gaps, they're because the cage is stitched together from memories. She scribbled out memory gaps, Ron, Malfoy, quidditch and half a dozen more words. I can't do anything about those. Even the amazing magic is because he's probably an adult in reality.

Harry spun his fork around on the table in a shining silver circle, bouncing his knees below the table. A low sigh burst from his lips and his eyes flicked up, then he winced and touched his fingers to his temple.

He's not getting too twitchy yet. Hermione rewrote her amended list, etching each individual letter in one at a time. The boggart. The Whomping Willow. Whatever's missing.

'I heard something big's happening,' Ron said. 'Real big. Dad and Percy won't tell me anything, but something's definitely happening.'

'Something important?' Harry fixed Ron with a sharp stare.

'I guess.'

A new puzzle. Hermione glanced between them and smiled as the hope rose in Harry's eyes. Focus, Hermione. You've got your own puzzle. She folded her little list up and tucked it into her bra. Someone caged Harry in here to suffer. You have to save him.

'Welcome back to Hogwarts, everyone!' Dumbledore clapped his hands and stepped to the lectern, conjuring a spark of flame on his fingertip and lighting the candles.

Harry does magic like that all the time. Hermione stared at the flickering candle flames. If I convinced Harry this wasn't real, would he know how to escape?

The hall fell silent.

'A few announcements before we all get too distracted by our impending food to remember them. Firstly, I would like to welcome Professor Moody to the castle. He will be taking over the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Secondly, I must remind students that the Forbidden Forest is so named for a reason.'

A bright mad gleam burnt in Harry's green eyes as he stared up at Dumbledore and his knuckles turned white around the knife in his hand. A slim trickle of blood crept down the handle and dripped onto the table.

No. I have to help him first. Hermione reached over and eased the knife out of Harry's hand, stifling a shudder. If I send him back like this, he might hurt someone. Or himself.

'And lastly, this year, after centuries, a great sporting event will be making its return. This means, unfortunately, that there will be no quidditch.'

A low mutter rang around the hall. Harry's eyes never left Dumbledore, shining with a fierce, wild gleam.

Dumbledore raised his hands to quell the low murmur. 'The Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts come October. A chance, for those who enter, to earn eternal glory as school champion.'

Harry will outstrip everyone. Hermione threw a glance at him.

He spun his fork 'round on the table, staring down into the wood with a small frown on his brows, poking at his temple with the fingertips of his left hand.

'Harry?' She rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Aren't you interested in this tournament?'

'In what?' He stopped the spinning knife with a finger. 'Did you find something interesting?'

Didn't he hear?

Hermione studied his expression, searching for some hint of the glint that had been in his eye moments before. 'The Triwizard Tournament,' she said.

Harry's gaze pierced through her. 'Hermione? Did you find something?'

She blinked. 'I just…'

He can't hear me, just like with Salazar Slytherin's portrait. Hermione tugged the piece of paper out of her bra, flushing at Harry's raised eyebrow and scribbling down both cases. Two more things. It must be connected to whatever's missing.

She nodded, weighing up her options. 'I did. Something interesting.'

The little bright mad gleam burst back to life in his green eyes and Harry leant forward. 'What? What did you find? What is it?'

'A tournament.' Hermione weighed her words. 'Eternal glory sounds like something… important.'

'Yes. Yes it does.' A broad smile stretched across Harry's face and the wild glint welled back up in his eye. 'It sounds like something great.'

'Do you want to know what it's called?' she asked.

'Tell me.'

'The Triwizard Tournament.'

Harry's glittering smile spread a little wider. 'Maybe this is it,' he whispered, bouncing in his seat. 'Maybe this time it's going to be it.'

So he can hear it, just like he could see the tree, but only if he really focuses on it. Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. That means the magic's not foolproof, I can help him break it. I can help him find it.

She opened her eyes.

Harry sat opposite her, staring through the window with a faint frown on his face as the lake bubbled and churned. A cold winter-blue sky hung on the enchanted ceiling above his head.

I lost time. Hermione sucked in a deep breath and stared around. When is this?

'It must be Durmstrang!' A Seventh Year Ravenclaw yelled.

She watched Harry shift on the bench, leaning his weight from side to side, fiddling with his plate, goblet, and cutlery. Twitchy. Very twitchy.

Fur-cloaked, leather-booted students strode into the hall. Harry tracked them along the aisle, then returned to his fiddling, staring down at the table.

If the other schools are here, that means it must be October.

French students drifted down the aisle a few moments later and food appeared on the tables. A huge bowl of bouillabaisse materialised before Harry, but he stared down through it as if it weren't there. Hermione reached across and tugged it out from under his nose. Harry's gaze bored into the table, his breathing coming light and fast beneath the clamour of the Great Hall.

He didn't know that was there, either. She tugged her list out. What a weird thing not to be able to see.

'Do you still want the bouillabaisse?' A soft French-accented voice drifted over her shoulder.

Hermione glanced at Harry. He stared down into the table, spinning his fork in circles.

'Pardon,' she murmured, picking up the bowl and turning 'round. 'He tends to ignore anything else when he's focused on something.'

Bright blue eyes drifted over Harry's face from beneath a veil of silver hair, and pale rose lips quirked. 'Bizarre.'

You've no idea. Hermione twisted back to Harry. Bizarre doesn't begin to cover it.

She glanced up and down the table, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. 'See you on the other side, Harry.'

Azure flames rippled above an ancient, rough-hewn cup, its stand ringed by a thin glowing line of magic. An eldritch glow suffused the surrounding air, fading away into the dusk shadows.

Harry stared into the blue fire with a gleam of hunger in his eyes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. The silver-haired French girl threw a small frown at him, stepping past and dropping a strip of parchment into the cup. Blue flames flared and faded.

'Harry?' Hermione edged forward as the French girl strode out. 'Are you going to enter your name?'

He stood and reached out his hand until the line on the floor glowed and his fingers caught in the air. 'Dumbledore put an age line around it.'

She grimaced. 'Does that mean you can't enter?'

He's not going to like that. Hermione stared at his twitching fingers. I hope he doesn't do anything drastic.

Harry shook his head and pulled out a swathe of silver silk. 'My cloak can get me across.' He vanished beneath it.

The azure flames brightened and faded.

Harry reappeared in a flourish of silk. 'I will not be stopped,' he whispered, staring into the flickering blue fire. 'I will find it.'

Hermione watched the reflection of the flames dance in his eyes, reaching out to put her hand on his shoulder. 'We'll find it.'

I'm going to save you. Hot emotion bubbled up, catching in her throat and prickling in her eyes. Just like you saved me.

Lethe's Lament

Dumbledore pottered up to the goblet and held out his hand. A slip of scorched paper shot from the cup and floated down into his fingers. 'The Champion for Hogwarts is… Cedric Diggory!'

Cedric… Harry watched Dumbledore's every move in front of the goblet's flickering flames. Why Cedric?

Hermione squeaked. 'What! How?'

'The Champion for Durmstrang… is Viktor Krum,' Dumbledore called.

The Durmstrang boys pounded the table and cheered the thick-browed Krum on as he strode toward the small door at the corner of the hall.

Dumbledore stuck his hand back out. 'And for our final champion…'

A sharp twinge bit into Harry's temple, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. He buried his face in his hands and stared at the table surface through his fingers, sucking in quick, shallow breaths through his nose.

'Harry Potter!' Dumbledore called.

Yes. A sharp, cold thrill jolted through him. Eternal Glory. Something great.

Hermione nudged his shoulder. 'Harry,' she hissed. 'Harry your name came out.'

'Harry?' Dumbledore's bright blue eyes pierced through him.

Hermione breathed out a long sigh beside him. 'You have to go into the room, Harry,' she whispered. 'With the other champions.'

He swung himself out of his seat, wandering between the benches and into the small antechamber, pursued by whispers.

'What is it, Harry?' Cedric asked. 'Do they want us to go back in?'

'No.' A broad grin spread across his face. 'I'm here to win.'

Krum prowled back and forth along the far wall, glancing up at Harry each time he turned. 'You have bitten off more than you can chew, da? Do you think you can really beat us?'

'I have to win,' Harry said. 'I need to.'

Krum snorted. 'Losing is a better lesson.'

Harry went to lean against the wall. Let's see, what now? Will something happen?

'This is unprecedented!' Ludo Bagman burst in, a giant smile on his face.

The throbbing picked up in Harry's head as the echo of Bagman's shout faded away. He pushed his fingertips into his scalp and squeezed his eyes shut until it eased.

'Harry.' Ron's voice caught him just as the ache dwindled to nothing.

'What?' He opened his eyes and turned away from the Gryffindor dormitory stairs.

'Look.' Ron glanced around at the huddle of students behind him and drew himself up. 'I'm no good at talking things out, so I'm just going to be frank—'

'What are you all doing?' Hermione demanded, shouldering her way through the huddle. 'What's wrong with you all?! You look like you're about to try and lynch him?!'

'He promised he wouldn't enter!' Ron cried. 'It was our chance. Eternal glory!'

Hermione blinked, glancing back and forth between Harry and Ron. 'Some things are more important than a bit of fame, Ronald. And do you honestly think that you'd do better than Harry?'

Ron's ears turned pink. 'I totally could! He always says he just gets lucky! I could get lucky too!'

She laughed. 'He says that because he's modest. There's no luck involved.' Hermione stared at Harry with a faint smile, nibbling at her lip. 'I've seen him do amazing things.'

'Great things,' Harry murmured as the yearning flared up in his breast.

'Whatever. Fine. You two run off and be amazing together.' Ron balled his fists and clenched his jaw, stepping forward to block the stairs. 'You're both a nightmare to deal with.'

This is a waste of time. The soft, insistent need and its gentle ache sharpened, clawing deeper, ripping through the space beneath his ribs with a rough, jagged edge and bitter heat.

'Get out of my way.' Harry's wand slipped into his hand. 'You're wasting my time.'

'Ron,' Hermione hissed. 'Do as he says. Don't — don't push him.'

'What's he going to do?' Ron tugged his wand out and barred the stairs with his other arm. 'Disarm me because I'm stopping him from taking a nap? Jellylegs me?'

Hermione's eyes widened and the colour drained from her face. 'Ron, don't be stupid...'

Harry stared at the freckled forearm in front of him as his heart began to pound, the twinging in his head spiking with each beat. 'Move,' he murmured, wrestling with the yearning in his chest. 'Or I'll move you.'

Ron sneered. 'Sure you will.'

Dean stepped up alongside Ron. 'We're not moving until you apologise.'

Harry let his magic spread out into the air, curling it 'round the group in front of him.

Hermione darted to his side and grabbed his arm. 'Harry, don't. They don't understand. You can just ignore them. Or apologise. It's just a little apology. It's not important.'

That's true. He took a deep breath and the burning need ebbed a fraction. It doesn't matter so long as they're not in the way anymore.

'I'm sorry,' Harry said.

Ron laughed. 'Bloody hell, Harry, that's the most pathetic apology I've ever heard!'

Fury blazed through him. Fine. He thrust the magic through them and twisted his wand.

Bones crunched. Red dripped down the stairs, pooling at his feet and soaking into the carpet. Hermione retched and gagged, throwing up onto the chair beside her. Vomit clung to strands of her hair as she sagged to her knees and sweat beaded her forehead.

'Are you okay?' Harry stepped to her side and vanished the sick in her hair, sweeping a few stray strands back out of her face as she hurled another mouthful of vomit onto the chair. 'Hermione?'

'I still don't like dead bodies,' she whispered, wiping her lips on her sleeve with a grimace. Her brown eyes brimmed with soft, sombre shadows. 'And I don't like seeing you like this.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'I'm always like this.'

'Not once we've found what's missing.' Hermione hauled herself back to her feet on the chair's arm. 'Then you'll be back to who you're meant to be.'

He considered that. She's right, I suppose. You can't be great if you've not found something great to do.

She gulped in a breath of air and stared at the blood-stained stairs and carpet. 'I don't want to stay here, Harry. Can you close your eyes for a moment?'

Harry frowned, but let his eyelids droop shut.

Something squirmed on his palm and a flash of pain lanced through his finger.

He snapped his eyes open.

A little dark dragon dragged itself along his hand, thrashing its jagged, spine-sprouting tail against Harry's fingers.

Words welled up; the weight of them hung on his tongue, taking shape like water drops trickling together on a train window. 'The small one bites.' He watched it writhe and spout little plumes of flame into the air.

A cannon thundered.

Harry tossed aside the small model and strode out of the tent, following a short passageway through rough rocks to where a golden egg gleamed amidst a clutch of large, dark ones.

Is that it? The yearning seized hold of his heart, squeezing the air from his lungs, and a bright cool rush swept through his veins. It must be. Harry stepped toward it, crunching across gravel. He stretched out his hand and summoned the gold egg, ripping it free from a net of wards.

Smooth, cool metal slapped into his palm.

He weighed it in his hand. No. The thrill drained away and his heart sank. No. It's not.

Dark tattered wings rose from behind the rocks and a black-scaled maw snaked down before him, releasing a searing column of flame. He buried his face in the crook of his elbow as it rushed over him.

Heat licked at his arms.

Red flames ran along the length of his wand, flickering in his dark robes. He swept his wand at them, but the pale yew crumbled to ash and slipped through his fingers. The fire ate into him, curling into his flesh like burning hooks, and the world faded into darkness.

It doesn't matter.

Harry opened his eyes to a soft swirl of shadow behind silver glass. An awful emptiness rose up to swallow him.

I don't think I'm ever going to find it.

Lethe's Lament

Three champions paced back and forth beneath the tent's white canopy, a clutch of small model dragons coiled up on the table, and Harry stood by the centre pole, gripping his skull as if he feared it was about to burst.

A cannon boomed, sending a jolt of cold shock rippling through Hermione. Cedric Diggory drew himself up, took a deep breath and strode out.

'Your friend is most bizarre.' The French champion glanced up from pacing near the door. 'And rude.'

Hermione grimaced and gave the girl a weak smile. 'He's a little bit obsessed with something, everything else kind of gets blotted out.'

'He's about to fight a dragon. Dragons are not going to be blotted out.'

Her breath caught and her eyes snapped back to the models on the table. 'A dragon? A fake one?'

'Non.' The French champion's bright summer blue eyes bored through Hermione. 'A real one. And he got the worst of them all. It is a nightmare.'

Yes. It is. But I'm going to end it.

Hermione chewed her lip. 'I think he'll be okay,' she whispered. 'I've seen him do amazing things. But thank you for trying to help him.' She blinked. 'I'm afraid I don't know your name.'

The girl's blue eyes narrowed. 'Fleur Delacour. I will let you read it off the Triwizard Cup at the end.'

Gasps and roars echoed from the stands beyond the white walls of the tent, then silence fell for a few seconds. The cannon thundered and Viktor Krum strode out.

'Right.' Hermione hurried across the tent and grabbed Harry's arm. 'It's dragons. The first task is dragons.'

'I know,' he said. 'So do the other two. They all cheated.'

'Which two cheated?' A flare of heat rose in her breast. 'Harry?'

'The other two.' He frowned. 'They didn't look at all surprised.'

'Yes.' Hemione studied his expression with a deep frown. 'But if two of them cheated, then that still leaves one other champion.'

He stared back at her.

Can he not see one of them? She glanced about the tent and a strange unease welled up, churning her stomach. And rude… she said.

'Cedric Diggory,' she said. 'From Hogwarts. Viktor Krum. From Durmstrang—'

'Yes… and...?'

'Right.' She grabbed his wrist and dragged him through the side entrance and pointed her hand up at the stands. 'See all the students in blue?'

A cannon boomed.

Faint lines creased Harry's brow and his fingers crept back up to his temple. 'I do,' he muttered. 'Beauxbatons. Of course. How strange...'

A thin trickle of red slid down Harry's cheek and a bright crimson bead hung from his jaw, dripping to the ground.

Blood… Hermione stared at the slim streak of blood trailing from his ear.

She led him back into the tent.

It's getting worse. The more things I make him notice, the worse his reaction gets.

'It'll be you soon,' she said. 'Are you ready?'

Harry slipped his wand from his sleeve, spinning it in his palm and showering silver sparks onto the ground. 'If it's in my way, I'll get rid of it.'

'Do you have your cloak?' Hermione asked.

'I do.'

If I let him out of my sight, I might lose time and miss what happens. She sucked in a deep breath and wrestled with the cold fist clamped about her heart. I have to stay close, or I won't be able to help.

'Can I borrow it?'

He pulled out a bundle of shimmering silk and dropped it into her hands, bouncing his feet and shifting his weight back and forth between them. 'Sure.'

The cannon boomed.

'Finally,' Harry muttered, a bright glint appearing in his eye. 'This time, it must be it.'

Hermione swept the cloak over herself and slipped out after him.

A golden egg gleamed amidst a clutch of large, dark ones, lying between sprawling, steaming, smoking rocks. Gravel stretched from Harry's feet to the nest.

Where's the dragon? Hermione's heart pounded and she shrank back against the rocks. Where is it?

Harry strode forward, crunching through the gravel, a broad grin on his face and a wild light in his eyes. A pair of tattered, dark wings rose from behind the rocks and a jagged-scaled, dragon head reared after them on a serpentine, spine-crested neck, its burning yellow eyes fixed on Harry. An orange glow swelled bright in its throat.

'Harry,' she squeaked, scrambling for her wand.

Searing flame gushed from the dragon's maw, but swirled aside with a flick of Harry's wand. White sparks flashed and whirled about the tip of the slim piece of ebony. A crackling white beam flashed out, wrapping itself around the dragon's muzzle and binding it shut. Smoke and the thick tang of scorched flesh drifted to Hermione's nose as the magic melted through the dark scales of the dragon's snout.

A muffled rumble echoed from deep in the beast's chest and it wrenched its head, snapping the rope of sparking white lightning.

'Fine. Be an obstacle.' Harry's knuckles turned white 'round his wand. 'I won't be stopped.'

The dragon reared back and opened its maw, the bright orange glow rising in its gullet.

'Fulminis,' he snapped.

A white flash seared Hermione's eyes and heat washed over her. She blinked the green spots out of her eyes.

Thick, dark-red dragon's blood rained down onto the rocks, steaming and hissing; it splashed over Harry, scalding the skin from his flesh and melting his robes. The headless dragon's corpse thudded onto the rocks and slid away down behind the nest.

Hermione held her breath.

Harry flicked his wand and swept the blood off. The flesh and skin crept back, bright pink patches faded back to pale skin, and with a flourish of his wand, his robes reformed. He thrust out his hand and summoned the golden egg into his palm.

A faint frown marred his brow, darkening into a scowl.

It wasn't it. A strange certainty gripped her. And it's not going to be this tournament. It's something to do with the things he can't see.

Harry turned on his heel and strode back the way he'd came. Hermione darted after him, pulling the cloak off and slipping into the medical tent in his wake, side-stepping Madam Pomfrey bustling between beds and pausing beside a bandage swaddled Cedric Diggory.

'You're not supposed to be here,' Fleur Delacour said.

Hermione stepped across to where Harry stared into the shining gold surface of his egg. 'What is it?'

'A clue,' he murmured, dropping it onto the bed.

'A clue to something important?' Hermione suggested, stifling a stab of guilt.

'Maybe…' He set it aside. 'Apparently, I should go see my score. To see which of the four champions did best.'

So he knows there are four now I've made him notice. Hermione dragged out her notebook and scribbled it down, staring at the short list of words. What part of a cage do you hide? The bars? No. The obsession doesn't hide how weird things are at all, if anything, it makes it clearer. The lock? The key? There's not much else to a cage than that.

Lethe's Lament

Portraits whispered above the marble staircase as students in bright dresses and shining dress robes swept past toward the Great Hall.

Why am I here? Harry's gaze slipped to the stairs of its own accord. Some kind of dance?

'You do have a partner, don't you, Mr Potter?' McGonagall's sharp, tart voice tore through his thoughts.

A partner. A sharp throb ripped through his skull and he flinched, squeezing his eyes shut.

'I'll be your partner, Tom.' A brown-haired girl wearing thick-framed glasses took his hands. 'I'll teach you how to dance.'

Music rose around them, a fast-paced waltz whirling just out of time with the beat of his heart. He closed his eyes and tried to stop it tugging at him, but the music shifted, growing faster still, her skin burnt against his like the heat of an open flame and his heart pounded against his ribs.

'You just need to learn the steps… and voilà!' She stepped in close to him, her breath brushing against his chin, and a faint sharp, sweet scent caught his nose. She reached out and took his hands, drawing him close against her. 'These are the steps,' she murmured.

The yearning coiled 'round his heart, tight as a vice, sharp as a crown of thorns, strangling the words in his throat. Harry grappled for breath and tried to focus on the placement of her feet. A circle of dark ink on a pale page hovered in his head and he clung to it as the need spiralled into a storm, squeezing his eyes shut.

'What do you feel?' she whispered.

Something missing. He steeled himself and opened his eyes. Something I need.

Green strands of leaves twisted their way down from around hovering candles, heavy with clusters of white berries, and their hot scent mingled with a faint, sharp, sweet smell.

Mistletoe. Harry's heart dashed itself against his ribs and his mouth turned dry.

The girl pressed her lips to his, brushing his nose with the cool rim of her thick-framed glasses. 'I love you, Tom,' she whispered.

The storm exploded beneath his ribs, a burning swirl of razors ripping through his heart and a hot fist of emotion clenching about his throat. Tears prickled in his eyes and blurred on his lashes, and the air slipped from his lungs.

What is this? He blinked the tears away. What is this feeling?

Hermione stared back at him, patting down the periwinkle silk of her dress with her hands as if she'd never seen it before. She stood arm in arm with Krum, who watched her with a small scowl.

'What on earth?' She slipped her arm free from Krum and stepped forward. 'What's this?'

Harry grappled with the storm, words of familiar weight hanging on his tongue. 'The Yule Ball.'

'Is it important?'

He stared out into the crowd of drifting colours and the yearning wrenched at his heart, tugging his thoughts back to hovering candles, mistletoe and soft kisses. 'No. Let's go upstairs, to the Room of Requirement.'

I need this to end. Harry struggled to breathe, pacing back and forth along the corridor before the tap-dancing trolls. I need to find it. He sucked in a gulp of air and dashed through the wooden door that formed before him. Somehow.

White pebbles clicked beneath his feet as he stumbled into the room, warm air washed over his skin and rustling long grass and wildflowers spread away toward a distant sunset.

'Are you okay?' Hermione stepped in after him and gasped. 'What is this?!'

Harry bent and picked up one of the warm pebbles, seized by a fierce familiarity. The yearning snapped tight 'round him like a snare, slicing through to his heart like white-hot wire, and the world spun around him.

'Harry?' She put her fingers on his shoulder. 'Breathe.'

Green strands of leaves twisted their way down from a bright blue summer sky, swaying around them. The girl with glasses smiled in his mind's eye as she kissed him and his heart screamed into the storm.

'I need…' Harry drew Hermione close, pulling her lips against his.

A faint mint taste touched his tongue.

She pulled away and stared at him with huge, brown eyes and trembling lips. 'Harry?' Hermione took a soft, deep breath and drew herself up. 'Was that it?'

The storm howled beneath his ribs, yearning for the sharp, warm sweetness of before, and the mint taste hung on his tongue, thin and cool as frost. 'No.'

Hermione swallowed. 'Want to try again? I — I don't mind if you think it will help you.' She edged a little nearer. 'You seem worse this time... Do you think you can find it?'

Harry pressed his fingertips to his ribs, pushing them in until they turned white and throbbed with pain, but the need drowned it, smothering the breath in his lungs and snaring the words on his tongue. He closed his eyes. 'I don't think I can.'

'Then don't say it.' A girl of silver mist stood so close her bright, silver eyes and tear-filled lashes were all he could see. 'I dreamt one day you'd kiss me,' she whispered. 'But I knew you never would.' Her lips brushed through his, the faintest chill upon his skin.

A faint weight slipped through his fingers and tumbled into the grass. Gleaming gold surrounded a small, dark stone with a familiar mark upon it.

'The Stone,' he murmured.

The storm. The girl of silver mist's voice rose in the back of his mind like steam curling off dark water. Despair dragged him down into its crushing, cold depths, closing over him, and he buried his face in his hands. Death. The final enemy.

'One final defeat,' he whispered, the words rising up onto his tongue from nowhere. He lowered his arms. 'Then nothing.'

Bright colours burst against a wavering wall of silver light, flitting black butterflies exploded into wisps of dark mist and a pale wand slipped through his fingers.

A brilliant emerald flash washed the world away.

Soft shadow swirled in shining silver, faint as summer shade, silent as winter snow. It writhed far beneath the shimmering surface, like the glimmer of gold beneath a river's bright ripples. The desperate yearning clawed its way up his throat like a fistful of razors, his heart seized beneath his ribs and a fierce heat stung at his eyes.

The storm.

Lethe's Lament

The golden egg rested on white pebbles, glowing in the faint light of a red sunset; its scream drowned the rustle of the grass and the willow leaves, a piercing wail ringing in Hermione's ears. Harry stared into the gleaming metal, ignoring the shrieking.

'How's your puzzle?' she asked. 'Fed up of the screaming yet?'

'I quite like it.' He clasped shut the egg. 'It drowns out everything else.'

Hermione chewed at her lip, watching him toy with the clasp. 'But you do know how to solve it? You don't want me to go through the library and look for clues?'

'It's Mermish,' Harry said. 'Under the water, it sounds very different.'

'You've known that the whole time?!' She huffed and crossed her arms. 'Were you just listening to it scream?'

'I like it.' A faint smile crossed his lips. 'It keeps me calm.'

She shook her head and tugged the list out of her bra. 'Unbelievable.'

Harry slipped his wand from his sleeve and conjured a metre-wide floating orb of water, adding warming charms until the water gave off gentle spirals of steam.

Hermione unfolded her list and stared at the small handful of words on the creased parchment. Something missing. The key to the cage Harry's trapped in. A knot of frustration tightened in her breast and she crumpled the paper up. None of these make sense. I don't know enough magic. Her gaze slipped back to Harry. But he must.

'Harry?' She tucked her note away. 'How does mind magic work?'

'What kind?' He bounced the egg in his hands. 'Occlumency? Legilimency?'

'Memories,' Hermione murmured.

'The Memory Charm?' Harry sketched two circles in the air in purple flame, joining them with a slim thread of emerald fire. 'It removes memories.' The left-hand purple circle vanished and the slim line of green fire faded away. 'Like that.' The right-hand circle swirled into a square. 'Or it modifies them, like that.'

'But you brought my memories back after Lockhart obliviated me,' she replied.

'What magic has taken away, magic can usually bring back,' he said, drawing the green thread of flame once more. 'Strong mental associations can indicate that something's missing or wrong. Eventually, the true memories can be reclaimed if the person wants it enough.' Harry restored the burning purple shapes to their original form with a flick of his wand.

Something missing. Unease gnawed at Hermione

'What constitutes a strong mental association?' she asked. 'What sort of thing would it be?'

'Something like your name or your parents' faces. Something associated with many different things.' Harry's fingers curled 'round the golden egg and his knuckles paled. 'Something important.'

Hermione's breath hitched and clarity struck her like a ray of light. The key to the cage. Or the lock. The taste of his kiss crept to the forefront of her mind and a little heat rose to her cheeks. She sat there on the white pebbles, staring at Harry who stuck his head and the egg into his floating orb of water.

'But you don't kiss something important.' Her heart stopped. 'You kiss someone.'

It's a person!

'It's someone he loves.' A faint sting of pain twisted beneath her ribs. 'Someone he loves…' Hermione wrestled with the soft ache in her breast. 'I guess I just need to find out who it is.'

And that's why my list makes no sense. She tugged the piece of paper back out and uncrumpled it. Bouillabaisse. Beauxbatons. The Boggart. Salazar Slytherin's portrait. The Whomping Willow. They're all connected to a nexus I don't know.

'A type of French dish, another magical school, the boggart can change shape, a portrait, and a tree.' Hermione frowned. 'That's not much to go on, I need to tighten the net somehow.'

Harry's bubble of water vanished and he tossed the golden egg away into the pebbles. 'Done.' His hands balled into trembling fists.

'What did it say?' she asked.

'It says they're going to take something away from me.' A dark glint hovered in his green eyes. 'Something important. I have to get it back.'

Lethe's Lament

The dark waters of the Black Lake lapped at the pillars of the pier and a cold wind rushed past Harry. Viktor Krum stood near the pier's end, staring down at where the thick weeds floated. Cedric Diggory shivered on the far side, clutching his wand and pacing back and forth.

It looks unpleasant. Harry slipped his wand out. What did they take? What have they stolen from me?

A shrill whistle cut through the air and he leapt into the lake.

Cold dark water closed over him.

He broke the surface.

The girl with her thick-rimmed glasses laughed and splashed water at him. 'It's not that cold, Tom.'

The yearning stirred, whispering through his chest like the first breeze of a coming storm. He swiped water from his eyes.

A slim strip of beach spread from their bare, sand-crusted feet to where the waves washed up the beach. Limestone cliffs stretched away to a narrow ravine where the surf dashed itself upon the rocks, and flecks of foam spattered his face.

'Look what I have.' The girl in glasses beamed and held up a dandelion seed head. 'You can make a wish on these.'

A wish. The need spiked, catching the words in his throat.

She huffed the seeds off with a shy smile on her lips, wiggling the fingers of her free hand into his. The dandelion seeds drifted away across the waves, sailing out of sight as the sun set.

'What did you wish for?' he asked, forcing the yearning down.

She bit her lip and glanced up at him from under her lashes, fiddling with the bare stem of the flower. 'For this to last forever.'

A small smile crept onto his lips and words welled up onto his tongue. 'That's a good wish, Myrtle. We'll have to make sure it comes true.'

Myrtle lowered her arm and the sand from her sleeve caught him in the eye.

He blinked.

An arm of rippling silver vapour swept through the dark water as Myrtle pointed down to her right. 'Good luck, Harry!'

He nodded and sucked in a gulp of water, swimming on and down.

Mud turned to rock beneath his feet. Columns of dark grey stone rose from the lake bed and its clusters of weeds, bearing deep-etched symbols, and the faint singing of the Merpeople drifted to his ears through the water.

Nearly found it. A bright thrill coursed through his veins. Nearly there.

Twelve dark monoliths surrounded a stone altar decorated with red and white coral and long, thin, sharp-fanged skulls. Two figures hung upon the nearest columns.

Not something important. He swam closer, his heart pounding in his ears. Someone.

Viktor Krum knifed through the middle of them, a shark's maw in place of his head. Harry drew his wand and thrust his magic into the water, but Viktor tore free one of the figures and swam away.

Someone important. He kicked down to the lake bed, approaching the final figure. But who?

Katie Bell bobbed against the monolith, a stream of silver bubbles rising from her mouth. The yearning twisted in his breast like a burning blade. Harry vanished her bindings with a flick of his wand and pulled her into his arms. Her warmth soaked into him and her hair floated into his eyes.

He brushed it aside.

'I did something very stupid,' Katie whispered.

The portraits surrounding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower stared down at them. Tears glinted in Katie's eyes and began to pour down her cheeks. 'I'm so sorry. I was angry. And the Firewhiskey…'

A soft ache stung beneath his ribs. Not someone important. Someone important wouldn't do that. A little ball of cold settled over Harry's heart. She's just between me and whoever it really is. An obstacle. He closed his eyes and crushed the ache to nothing.

'I'm so sorry,' Myrtle whispered, staring at the damp, white tiles beneath her feet. Her glasses flashed in the bright summer sunlight beaming through the window. 'I made a mistake. I was angry.'

A jagged pain wrenched in his breast. 'You betrayed me.' Words slipped from his lips and his wand flashed up. 'To one of them!'

'I — I thought—'

'You chose them.' He ripped her memories from her, snatching away every instant they'd spent together. 'If you chose them once, you'll do it again.' He blinked back tears as the despair rose to smother him. 'I should've known better than to believe you when you said you were different.'

Myrtle slumped to the tiles.

He squeezed his eyes shut and smeared the tears away. There are no dreams left.

'Tom,' she begged as storm clouds rumbled and lightning flashed through the window. 'Please. I know there's something missing. Something important.' Tears streamed down her cheeks from beneath her glasses. 'Please tell me. Please.'

Something missing. Something important. His wand slipped into his hand and magic swirled through him. Maybe I should forgive her. The thought welled up from the back of his mind. It's lonely without her. We had one last perfect dream together.

She raised her head. 'I'm going to tell Professor Dumbledore you did something! But I want to know what it is first. I have to know. I can't keep feeling suddenly sad all the time and bursting into tears!'

She chose them again. Searing heat flashed through his veins. Again!

'Tom,' she whispered. 'Tell me, Tom.'

'There's nothing to tell,' he said, tearing every memory of him from her mind. 'It doesn't do to dwell on dreams.'

There're no dreams left. He closed his eyes as the chamber scraped open and the basilisk slithered free.

A soft gasp escaped Myrtle and her body thumped to the tiles.

There's only power. He closed his eyes and listened, letting the cacophonous whisper of his soul drown out the world. And I won't be nothing. Never again. I'll be the greatest wizard the world's ever seen. Let them hate me then.

Lethe's Lament

Cramped columns of names lined the page of her notebook in messy shorthand, halved by the fluttering of a worn blue ribbon. A blotch of water dripped onto the page, blurring Katie Bell's name.

'Harry?' She glanced up. 'Want to keep playing our game? It might help drown out everything else?'

He paused in poking his wand at the knee-high hedges on the former quidditch pitch. 'Sure. These hedges are Lying Leylandii, so there's really not all that much I can do to them.'

Hermione smiled. 'Quidditch player. Cute but scruffy. Chaser.'

'Katie Bell,' Harry said.

'Correct.'

Not Katie, then. She huffed on the water blotch until it dried, then drew a line through Katie's name. Next one.

'Also a chaser—'

'Alicia Spinnet.'

Hermione laughed. 'Are these too easy for you, Harry?'

'The other ones were harder.' He shook his head and straightened up. 'Is the next one Angelina Johnson?'

She checked the list. 'I did write them down together. I think they're a package deal.'

Harry chuckled and went back to inspecting the hedges.

'What about… has a twin?'

'Parvati.' He didn't glance up. 'Or Padma, I suppose, but we already did all the other houses.'

Hermione crossed a line through Parvati. I'm running out of girls' names. Anxiety stabbed at her. If it's not someone from Hogwarts, this might be very tricky.

'A kind of flower?' she asked.

Harry stiffened. 'What's so special about flowers?' he murmured, an odd little glint in his eye.

Interesting. She studied him as he slipped his wand away and prowled the hedges, fingers twitching. He's not said her name yet.

'She likes divination,' Hermione called after him.

'Lavender.' Harry paced through the twisting paths, ignoring the rustle and shiver of the hedges he passed by. 'Are you out of girls, yet? You know there's an entire other gender.'

Hermione blinked. What if he's gay? She shook her head and crossed off the last girls' name. I didn't even think about that.

'Who's the hottest?' she asked, inspecting his expression. 'Of all the girls I've mentioned in the game, which one would you rather marry?'

Harry froze. 'Marry?' he whispered, his fingers creeping to his ring finger. 'Not sure.' A distant expression crossed his face. 'None of them feel right.'

Damn.

'What about guys?' Hermione pressed.

He wrinkled his nose. 'Nope. Not my cup of tea, that.'

Well, at least that makes things easier. She flicked back a few pages through her notebook to look at her original list. Bouillabaisse. Beauxbatons — I'm an idiot.

'Harry, come with me!' Hermione strode through the hedges and grabbed his arm. 'Come on! It's important!'

He let her drag him back into the castle and through to the Great Hall, a bright, eager gleam in his eyes. 'What is it?'

'I can't tell you yet,' she said, picking a pair of seats in the middle of the Gryffindor table and ushering Katie up the table. 'The game is part of it. I promise it's important, Harry. I wouldn't waste your time.'

Harry nodded, a wild, fierce gleam in his eye. 'So?'

Hermione pointed a hand at the small contingent of blue-uniformed students and scrambled for a plan. 'Guess their names from their faces.'

He followed her finger. 'Beauxbatons students?' His brow creased. 'Fine. Marcelle. Pierre. Caroline. Emilie.' Harry paused, his hand frozen halfway to the next. 'I don't know that many French names.'

'Just make them up, then,' she said. 'It doesn't matter.'

As long as you can see them, they're not the one.

'Sure. Why not.' Harry's hand moved on. 'Aimee. Louise. Paul. Jack. Andrew. Mary. Susan. Gary. Stewart.' His hand fell back to his side.

Hermione's heart stopped. You missed one, Harry. You missed the last one.

'You forgot one,' she murmured. 'What about Beauxbatons's champion? You should already know her name. Every boy at the school is always talking about her.'

'Their champion?' Harry's fingers crept to his temple and pressed in so hard they turned white. 'I don't know. It's not important.'

'Isn't it?' Hermione pressed..

'No.' A slim stream of red trickled from Harry's ear and his breathing began to race. 'No. There's something important. Something great—'

'She's very pretty. Blue eyes. Silver hair—'

Katie's goblet shattered, spraying glass across the table.

Hermione flinched and wrapped an arm 'round Harry's shoulders. 'Breathe, Harry. It's ok. We're going to find it. I promise you. Just a couple more puzzles.'

Fleur Delacour. She stared across the gap between the tables and caught the French girl's bright blue eyes. Hermione smothered a soft sting in her chest. So it's you Harry loves.

Plates and bowls crumpled with metallic screeches, cutlery bent and snapped and the table shook, rattling all along its length.

'Harry,' she hissed. 'Calm down! And don't close your eyes! You mustn't close your eyes.' Hermione snatched up her notebook and a pen, grasping for an idea. 'I'll give you the next part of the puzzle.'

A puzzle. A puzzle. She stared at the blank page, but all the words hovered just out of reach. Anything will do. I just need to distract him for a few minutes.

Another goblet shattered and someone screamed.

She scribbled down the first childish riddle that sprang to mind and passed it over. Harry stared at it, clutching it tight between his fingers, and the rattling faded.

Hermione released a sigh. I did it. I think. If he finds her, he's found his something, the key to the cage. A flare of triumph rushed through her. I helped him. I saved him.

The world ground to a halt and cold fear clamped about her heart like a vice.

But if he's free, if the dream ends, what happens to me? Do I just… disappear?

Lethe's Lament

Ink spread through the lines in the notebook's pages, creeping from the ends of Hermione's letters and the blotches splashed about the words.

'If you've got me, you want to share me; if you share me, you haven't kept me. What am I?' Harry muttered. 'How many guesses do I get?'

Ash swirled 'round him, drifting to the ground before a tall, dark hedge.

'A good question to ask.' A beautiful female voice carrying a strange double timbre tugged at his thoughts. The sphinx lay in the only gap, a broad smile on its face. 'Dreams are such fascinating things, little human.'

'There're no dreams left,' he whispered. 'There's only power.'

'There's one,' it said. 'A shadow of a dream, the faint impression of where it was torn away.'

'Who took it?' Harry demanded, feeling the heat of the fury whirl within. 'Where is it?'

The sphinx's smile widened. 'There's only the two of us in here really, Heir of Slytherin, and I did not do it to you.'

Harry mulled that over. 'I don't understand. Are you saying I did this to myself? Why would I do that?!'

'When is victory not really victory? When does falling to your last enemy stop being defeat?' It laughed. 'But that is not the riddle I'm here to give you. Not this time.'

The last enemy. Death. The Storm. The yearning swirled within, hot as flame, tight as a noose. That doesn't help at all.

'Who said I was here to help?' The sphinx rose to its feet and stared down at him; its eyes burnt with magic, like it was lit from within by green flame. 'I tire of watching you dance among dreams. You will solve the riddle I give you or I will devour you now.'

'A test.'

'A test.' It yawned, baring a maw of curved fangs. 'Kept without bars, spoken with shame; sometimes brings joy, more often brings blame.'

Harry turned the words over in his head, shoving the storm down deep within. Something you keep, but not a physical thing. A promise? He weighed that up. But you don't make promises and feel ashamed.

'Oh, so close.' The sphinx laughed. 'But no, not a promise. It's not promises you swore there'd be no more of.'

No more secrets.

'That's it.' Its sharp smile stretched wide. 'Secrets. Secrets and dreams, Harry Potter, the delicious delusions of the human mind.'

'You said you weren't here to help…' Harry narrowed his eyes at it. 'You solved that riddle for me.'

'Who said the riddle was the test?' The sphinx flared its wings. 'Or, more aptly, who said it was that riddle I wanted to hear?' It reached out with one huge paw and touched the tip of its claw to Harry's heart. 'Neither can live while the other survives.'

Tom. One of two. Harry shoved the claw away and ignored the cold prickling down his spine. Words welled up from the back of his mind and a desperate yearning ripped through him, sharp as razors. It doesn't matter which I am. Perfect wishes don't come true.

'Secrets,' he muttered. 'Secrets was the answer. Let me pass.'

'Pass?' Its gentle laughter echoed as the world bent and twisted around Harry. 'Sometimes, to go forward, you must go back.'

The chatter of the Great Hall washed over him and Harry stared down at the pages of Hermione's notebook, an awful foreboding crushing down on him. 'Secrets,' he muttered. 'Secrets and dreams.'

'Well done, Harry!' Hermione hurried back over, a thread of red magic trailing from the tip of her wand. 'That was quick!'

He eyed the spell. 'What's that?'

Hermione stared down at the thin line of crimson flame. 'I figured out the spell you use to draw in the air, it's part of your puzzle.' She swallowed hard. 'The last part, I think.'

'You know.' He rose from his seat. 'You know.'

The yearning exploded within, hot and bright and sharp; its snare closed 'round his neck, catching the breath in his throat and strangling the words welling up beside faint, warm hope.

'I can't tell you,' she whispered. 'You have to find it yourself.' Hermione passed her wand to him. 'Just — just follow the red string.'

Harry took her wand.

The thread tugged at his hand, drawing him on.

'Where will it take me?' he asked.

'Back, I think.' She blinked away tears. 'Back where you're meant to be.'

Harry took a step forward.

'Wait.' Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. 'Thank you.'

'What for?' he asked.

'For the troll. For being my friend. For everything.' Tears slid free of her lashes, trickling down her cheeks. 'But you have to go back. And I have to disappear.'

Unease gnawed at Harry. 'Are you okay, Hermione?' He extended his hand.

She shook her head. 'I can't come with you. Not this time. I just wish I could.'

Perfect wishes don't come true. The thread of red magic tugged at him.

'Go,' she said. 'You have to go. It's something more important than me.'

Something important. His feet stumbled after the tug of the thread and the storm howled in his heart. Did she find it for me? Did she help me in the end after all?

The thin crimson string flickered out before bright, summer-sky-blue eyes and a cascade of silver hair.

Searing pain flashed through his head.

The Great Hall spun and brightened into white pebbles, a rippling river and the gentle shade of a willow tree.

'Fleur,' he whispered.

'I'm here, mon Cœur.' A warm, marzipan-scented embrace engulfed him. 'As always.' A gentle kiss brushed his lips as silver mist swirled 'round him and her arms vanished. 'You're almost there.'