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Chapter Forty

Alexandra Black, Meet Death's Champion

Birds tweeted in the trees. A centaur, out for morning archery practise, sniffed the dew-filled air. Morning light shone onto the Black Lake, reflecting shimmering patterns as the water bobbed and ebbed. Some of that light passed through the surface and down into the depths — at first with ease, but as light blues gave way to darker, less cheery shades, it struggled more and more, until the morning sun consisted of only a few lonely photons in the deep, inky blackness. It was pretty dark down there.

Continue on just a bit further though, in just the right direction, and the blackness surrenders to a faint green glow — light from dozens of windows, each one embedded into a sheer underwater cliff-face. The largest of these windows belonged to the Slytherin common room, and students inside might occasionally expect to see schools of fish, or kelpies, or even the occasional whisper of the giant squid, but right now the outside waters were empty — empty and calm. Not so inside the glass.

"Come on, I do not wish to be late!"

"My homework! Oh Merlin, Snape's going to kill me."

"Hey, did you hear what happened to Judith in Herbology?"

"Bluhhh, too early."

And so on and so forth.

Near the middle of the room, Draco Malfoy relaxed at the head of his court. Unlike the rest of the room, no one in this small circle was moving fast or seemed to be in a hurry. Far from it in fact. The Malfoy heir held a set of five cards right up to his face in a manner suggesting that any attempt to rush him would see him take even longer, just because he could.

"Fold," said Theodore Nott, throwing his cards on the table. The cards started complaining loudly.

"I'll raise by three knuts," said Pansy.

Draco stared fixedly at his cards while in the background a sixth year couple argued all the way to the common room door. "I call," he said. The door closed with a loud thumphf.

And at the back of the common room, down the enchanted flight of stairs that led to the girl's dormitories, down to the very deepest level, a door flung itself open and a red headed girl burst out.

"Ginny, wait for me," Luna called from inside the room.

Ginny laughed. "Should have dressed quicker then!"

Moments later Luna appeared and made a theatrical grab for where Ginny no longer was.

"Hah!" Ginny giggled and danced away, Luna following close behind.

And in the first years girls dormitory proper, at the very back of the room, in a green and silver four poster bed with the curtains shut tightly, Alexandra Black sat, crosslegged on the bed, stroking a purring Amethyst with one hand, while her other hand held a quill, poised on empty parchment. An open letter lay on the bed next to her, the contents of which had greatly disturbed her.

Her hand trembled.

'Dear Father,' she began.

She shook her head slowly, crossed the line out, and wrote, 'Dear Daddy.'

She'd barely finished writing the 'y,' before she shook her head much more vigorously, crossed out that line too and replaced it with, 'Dear Dad.'

Then she crossed out the 'Dear,' leaving only the 'Dad.'

Frustrated, Alex ripped up the parchment and threw it in a small pile. She wondered why this had to be so hard before starting again with another sheet.

'Hi Dad,

I'm fine! Yes, I've been sorted into Slytherin house. Don't let the rumours get to you. I'm still friends with Harry. Yes, I'm working hard and yes, I'm keeping an eye out for Snape. You don't need to worry so much. No, I don't know what library you're thinking of—'

Alex paused and bit her lip. Her hand was still shaking. It seemed that Lord Slytherin had been right about Lord Black wanting to purge the Black Library. The mere thought of something so horrible happening to her library made Alex sweat, but that wasn't the only thing. Way at the back of her mind whispered a niggling question. How could Slytherin have possibly known? He'd warned Alex way back at the last Winter Festival and for a while she'd started to think he might have been mistaken. But he hadn't been. Slytherin's gaze seemed to reach as far as starlight. It was unreal. Far more like a character from one of her many story books than a real person. And he had not only seen, but also acted, unlike her father who Alex never saw do more than the bare minimum for the family. She continued writing.

'—,but if I remember anything I'll be sure to let you know. Hope everything is going well,'

Alex then wrote and crossed out several forms of signing off on a spare piece of parchment before simply settling on, '— Alex.'

She checked the letter several times before folding it up, tucking it away, nuzzling a mewling Amethyst on her cold nose, and leaving the dormitory. Most of the other students seemed to have already left for breakfast, so it was a surprise to find cousin Draco, along with Pansy and Theodore, sitting in a hunched circle. She wandered over.

"Four of a kind," said Draco, setting down a set of cards. "Robes."

Pansy and Theodore groaned.

"I was sure you were bluffing," Theo said.

Alex sat down in the one free seat at the low table.

"Black." Draco acknowledged her with a nod.

Alex looked at the table as Draco pulled a small pile of knuts towards him. "Bit early for this, isn't it?"

Pansy sniffed. "We were behind on our homework. Mother said if we didn't keep up with our lessons she'd see to it that our allowances were cut."

Alex carefully kept her face blank while a mild feeling of resentment swelled up in her. Poker as homework. Of course. They'd probably been playing since they were old enough to hold cards. They'd probably been trained to identify tells before they'd learned to read — no, probably before they'd finished potty training. Alex had never played the game in her life. She didn't even know how to play.

"Want to be dealt in?" asked Draco, "There's still time for one more round."

"I'll just watch," Alex quickly said, while her mind scheduled an appointment with Luna to get hold of a book of rules, and preferably lessons too.

"Suit yourself."

The round opened with two knuts from Pansy and continued from there.

"You wouldn't believe what my father sent me the other day, Black." Draco said, mid round.

"Oh?"

The corner of Theodore's lip curled upwards.

Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Seven Nimbus 2001s — for the Slytherin quidditch team."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "That's a lot of gold."

"Yes, it is, isn't it." Draco smiled while not looking at his cards. "You're looking at Slytherin's newest seeker."

"Really?"

"Yes," Draco drawled. "Flint was very impressed. The latest model is far more efficient than the old 2000 ever was — faster too."

Alex couldn't help remembering a conversation between her and Ginny in which Ginny had firmly stated that she was going to be Slytherin seeker or else. Alex wasn't entirely sure what the 'or else' would be, but she hoped it wouldn't interfere with her own plans to take over the Dark for Lord Slytherin. Which, incidentally, was a plan that she intended to put into effect right about… now.

"I'm sure you will astound us all," Alex said, and allowed a small pool of magical intent to pool on her finger tips. She'd found the spell in a Black family magic book ages ago. It was named the stress jinx by an unimaginative ancestor who'd been experimenting with dementors. The spell enhanced anxiety in the target towards things the target was already anxious about, and was undoubtedly dark magic of the most insidious kind, slowly worming itself deep into the victim over multiple applications. It took a long time to wear off, and was supposed to affect the caster just as bad as the target. Strange that, since she'd never felt anything bad from using it.

Alex let the magic snake out, undetected, across the gap between them and sink into the Malfoy heir.

Draco stiffened and his breath hitched, but otherwise he seemed unaffected by the Black family spell, at least not outwardly. "Of course I will."

— DP & SW: NRiCaD —

"C'mon, make a move. I know you want too," Ginny muttered to herself while glaring in frustration at the Marauder's map. A dot labelled, 'Virgo Malfoy,' sat in the library in a circle of other dots, one of which was labelled 'Susan Bones.'

"Still nothing?" Luna asked.

"No. It's sticking to Bones like glue."

The two were walking through the corridors after classes had finished. Harry had called a general meeting.

"Are you sure you're ready for her?" Luna asked. "This isn't like practising on chickens."

Ginny felt a small pang of guilt that had nothing to do with Riddle and everything to do with Hagrid's chicken coops before firmly squashing it. "I'm sure."

Not far away, unseen behind several corners, two older boys in Gryffindor robes were on a collision course with the two girls.

"What do you think Harry wants?" Fred asked. He was idly spinning a protractor on his index finger.

"Probably news from our unknown benefactor who definitely isn't Lord Slytherin," George answered.

"You think?"

"Sure."

Fred grinned. "I bet it's about becoming animagi."

"How much do you bet?"

"A sickle."

"Done."

The two pairs turned opposite corners on opposite sides of the next long corridor and stopped at exactly the same time, leaving them facing each other like twin duellists at the O.K Corral.

"Well, well," said George sticking just his thumbs into the pockets of his robes in mock imitation of a teenage boy trying to be tough. "If it isn't the prodigal sister."

"The first Weasley ever to be sorted into Slytherin," Fred added. "For shame, little Ginny."

Ginny snorted. "Didn't the sorting hat offer either of you Slytherin?"

"That's for us to know and you to find out."

Luna smiled. "If it's for Ginny to find out, then asking those who know seems like a good idea to me."

The twins looked at each other. "She's got us there, Fred."

"Too true, George. Very well then, please allow us to clarify, your Heiressness Heiress Lovegood. We ain't telling."

"Oh."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I assume there's a reason you two are here."

"Harry called us."

Ginny gestured to the door in the middle of the corridor. "Us too."

"Then after you, little sister."

It was the same classroom the girls and Harry trained in. Harry was already there, along with Hermione and Daphne. He got up and shook Fred and George's hands as they filed in. "I have news from our patron," Harry said, closing the door behind them while Ginny and Luna moved over to Hermione and Daphne and started conversing in hushed tones.

"Oh, yes?" George grinned.

Fred huffed, shoved a hand into the pocket of his robes and slapped a large silver coin into George's hand.

"Yes, Nimbus wants to make adjustments to our efficiency rings for next years model."

Fred nodded. "You know, Harry, you don't need to be so mysterious about our patron, it's incredibly obvious who he is."

The girls all looked up sharply.

"It is?" asked Harry.

"Yes, it is."

"Do tell, then. There are none here not in the know."

George pointed. "Daphne Greengrass and Luna Lovegood — both betrothed to Lord Slytherin — and you disappear for the whole summer with the prophet constantly hinting that Lord Slytherin 'kidnapped' you."

"Okay, I guess it's not all that hard to work out."

Fred smirked. "That and we got an owl from Dad last week telling us everything, but we were sure we knew even before that."

An unreadable expression passed over Harry's face. "When you say everything…"

Fred and George looked at each other. Then George said, "That we'd been dealing with Lord Slytherin and our partnership is official and that Dad supports us, but that we shouldn't tell Mum about it until he says it's okay."

There was a pause.

"…Yes." Harry eventually said. He smiled. "Yes, that probably just about covers everything. Right then." He clapped his hands together. "We're just waiting for our last member and then we're going to get down to business."

Hermione put up her hand.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"What exactly is our business? You didn't say."

"Animagus training."

Fred gave his brother a victorious smirk.

George snorted, reached into his pocket, grabbed the same silver sickle his brother had just given him and slapped it back into Fred's hand. He then fished out a small bag of bronze knuts and handed it over with a theatrical flourish.

At that moment, they all heard the sounds of footsteps rapidly approaching through the corridor outside. The door opened and Alexandra burst in.

Ginny couldn't help wondering what sparks would fly when her childhood friend was finally let in on Harry's secrets.

"Sorry I'm late," Alex said. "I had to shake the Carrows."

The Weasley twins looked at each other again. "Was not expecting that, oh brother of mine," said George.

"No indeed not." Fred turned to Harry. "Isn't she a little… Dark?"

"Nah, she's one of mine."

"Hey! I am not one of yours, Potter. I'm—" Alex hesitated, her gaze flickering back towards the Weasley twins.

"It's okay, Black," Daphne piped up. "They also work with Slytherin."

"Well, okay then."

As far as Ginny could tell, Harry's process of becoming an animagus sounded a lot simpler than the normal version. He explained that the first step would be exactly the same — keeping a mandrake leaf in their mouths for a whole month — but that after they'd identified their animal form, they'd not bother with the aligning their soul to their inner animal through rigorous self transfiguration, which could take years, and instead each would build a special mindscape for their animal, before conducting a large group ritual involving themselves, seven massive clay pots, a pensieve, and enough phoenix ash to block a fireplace. They'd live the life of their inner animal all the way from birth in the blink of an eye, and die on the claws of the other six. Something about phoenix ashes ability to bend time and space and the way consciousness flowed in a pensieve. Okay, thought Ginny, as Harry finished up his rather lengthy explanation. Perhaps 'simple' wasn't the best way to think of it.

"Hang on a second," Fred said, frowning slightly. "You say seven pots because seven is a critically important number in soul magic. There are eight of us."

Everyone looked around, counting heads. There were indeed eight people present — Harry, Daphne, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Alexandra, Fred, and George.

"Yes," said Harry. "There are two ways we can handle that. My hope is after this we can repeat the ritual for the muggleborns a year from now. They're learning the needed occlumency as we speak. It might be helpful to have someone who's been half way through the ritual already to guide them through that…"

The twins crossed their arms in unison.

"The other way," Harry continued, ignoring the belligerent looks they were shooting him, "is to stuff the two of you into one pot and see what happens."

"And what might happen?" George asked.

"If you have the same animal, you might simply be born in the same litter and grow up together. Or you might fuse into some hybrid monstrosity, like a two headed cerberus — like Orthrus."

The twin's broke out into wide grins.

"Or the whole ritual could just not work and we'd have to try again. Or we could all die — although I have my reasons to doubt that would happen."

The twins exchanged looks then retreated across the room to whisper among themselves. After a few moments they returned. "We think," said George, "that we should find out what our animal forms are first and then decide."

"Sound thinking." Harry stood up. "Well, that was all. I'll let you know when I have the mandrake leaves. They're quite hard to get hold of at the moment." Everyone started to file out. "Oh, Ginny, a word please."

Ginny held back. The door closed as the last other students walked through.

"I heard from Luna you did the chicken killing training last night. How are you feeling?"

That twinge of guilt twisted itself in Ginny's stomach again. "Fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Harry didn't look all together convinced.

"It's fine, Harry, really."

"Well… okay then."

Ginny let out a small mental sigh of relief. "Anything else?"

"Yes, Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow afternoon."

"Flint's going to make trouble." It was a statement more than a question.

"Not as much as he might have," Harry said. "I had a quiet word with him the other day. He agreed to give everyone a fair trial."

"How'd you manage that?"

"I calmly pointed out to him the benefits of allowing meritocratic placement to his future sporting career."

Ginny gave him a disbelieving look.

"I may have pointed this out while holding a pointy sword, pointing vaguely in his direction — I think he got my point."

"That does sounds more likely."

"I also slipped him a bag of gold to counter Malfoy's buying the whole team nimbus 2001s."

At that point several thoughts flew through Ginny's head. The first was, 'that Malfoy rat-face scumbag,' the second was, 'it doesn't matter anyway, because Harry outsmarts him without even trying,' and the third was, 'oh wow, oh wow, when I get on the team, Malfoy will have, in fact, unwittingly bought me, Ginny Weasley, a brand new nimbus 2001.'

— DP & SW: NRiCaD —

The new broomstick gleamed. The wood was polished, the handle smooth, a magic efficiency ring hovered behind the seat, and each individual twig in the tail bent out elegantly before sweeping back in a manner reminiscent of gull-wing doors on a muggle sports car — not that the broomstick's current owner would have appreciated the comparison.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Draco said, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from the tip.

Despite herself, Alexandra couldn't help feel a pang of annoyance. It really was a nice broomstick.

"It's so impressive, Draco," Pansy simpered. The girl turned to Alex. "Isn't it impressive, Black."

"Very impressive." Alex said dryly. She fired another hidden stress jinx at Draco. "Better make sure you win the cup. Daddy won't be happy dropping so much gold on a failure."

For just a moment Alex thought she detected a flicker of worry on Draco's face before it snapped back to his aloof mask. "You need to be more careful how you insult people, Black," he said. "You don't have your family on your side here."

Alexandra shrugged. Nothing new there, she thought. She was used to dealing with things on her own.

The three of them were on their way to the Slytherin quidditch tryouts, Draco already holding the nimbus 2001 he'd claimed from the seven his father had sent in. Alex walked a little way ahead of the other two, not wanting to give the impression she was hanging off Draco's arm the way Pansy practically was. They made their way outside and wandered down to the pitch.

Six nimbus 2001s were lined up on the grass. Harry and Ginny were already there, along with some other hopefuls and most of the previous year's Quidditch team. Alexandra broke away and went to find herself a good spot to watch from the stands.

Draco sneered at Ginny as he arrived in the middle of the pitch. "First years aren't allowed, Weasley. Push off."

Flint cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, Malfoy, the baron has given Miss Weasley permission to try out so long as her broomstick is held by another." The bloody baron had replaced Snape as head of Slytherin house the previous year after Snape got petrified by the basilisk.

Draco looked Ginny over. "Well I suppose having a Weasley under my thumb wouldn't be too—"

"As seeker, Malfoy, not just chaser," Ginny cut in.

"What? I'm Slytherin's seeker."

There was a noticeable silence. Ginny smirked.

Draco whirled on Flint. "You promised me seeker!"

"No, I promised you a spot on the team. I'm not stopping you from trying out for seeker, but if someone does better than you, you'll be a full-time chaser."

"She's a girl!" Draco pointed at Ginny. "You never let girls…" He trailed off. He turned to Harry who'd been silently watching the entire exchange.

Harry tilted his head in a half acknowledgement.

Draco's eyes widened. He then whirled back on Flint. "You! You Gray-faced bastard! Have you no honour? People who are bought should stay bought!"

Flint shifted uncomfortably. "After we've chosen four chasers, we'll release eleven snitches — whichever chaser catches most will be seeker."

"I'm not being led by a Weasley!"

Flint's eyes hardened. "Then you'd better not lose then, had you?"

Draco scowled before seeming to calm down. "Fine. Like I'd ever lose to a girl anyway."

Way up in the stands, Alexandra heard none of this. She sat with her hands under her chin, looking bored, but carefully watching Malfoy for further signs of cracking. It was difficult to tell this early in the game how much of that little outburst had been her doing and how much was just Malfoy's own personality. Surely it had been her doing. At this rate she'd have the Dark wrapped around her finger by Winter Festival. Something Harry hadn't been able to achieve all last year.

The logic made perfect sense to Alex. Harry Potter was immensely powerful — everyone knew that. He'd also spent almost all of last year distancing himself from the Gray, just like she was doing now. What had he been doing during that time? Nothing, as far Alex could tell. And yet, here she was now, being asked by Lord Slytherin to take over the Dark — something she was sure could be achieved in under a week if she had Harry's powers. So how had he failed what for him should be such a basic task? Because he didn't want to use his powers?

Alex snorted to herself. The players down on the field were now throwing several quaffles about to each other several feet above the ground.

I mean, look at this, Alex thought. Harry could have Ginny on the quidditch team if he wanted to in an instant. All he had to do was put pressure on Flint, who was already Gray, and bam! But no, what was it Ginny had said to her before?

'Lord Slytherin has arranged something for me.'

Lord Slytherin! Not Harry! Why was someone like Slytherin having to stoop to arranging positions on quidditch teams when he had someone as obviously powerful as Harry, supposedly running the show down here? It made her sick.

Harry Potter seemed to be very much like her dad in that respect — powerful and influential, but unwilling to use that power to make what needed to happen happen. Or even like Dumbledore, if she believed the whispers.

And so, here she was, having to clean up someone else's failure. Still, it gave her the opportunity to prove herself to Slytherin, so she wasn't complaining at all.

Oh, speak of the devil…

Harry ascended the stairs towards her, looking as calm and cheerful as he always did — cute too — though she'd rather die than admit it — just one more thing that pissed her off — him being cute that is, not her determination to never let anyone know she thought so.

"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry sat down beside her.

"My thoughts are worth a lot more than a knut, Potter."

"Suit yourself." Harry pulled out a small bottle of orange juice from somewhere, popped the top, and took a sip.

"Why aren't you down there?" Alex waved her hands to the speeding broomsticks. "Ginny says you're better on a broom than even her."

"I'd like to, but I've got other stuff to do. Bubble water?" He held a can to her.

Alex took it. "Thank you."

They drank in silence for a few moments while Ginny scored twice in the time it took Draco to score once.

Then Alex asked, "What were you doing last year?"

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "Keeping my head down mostly. It wasn't a good time to be me."

"Why? You're so powerful, you could easily squash anyone who got in your way."

"It is sometimes better to hide your true powers. Unrestrained enthusiasm has a way of coming back to bite you later."

Alex snorted. What a Harry Potter response. What was the point in him hiding his powers now? Everyone knew his powers — knew them, and knew he didn't use them.

"Oh?" Harry leaned forward slightly. "What do we have here?"

Alex turned to follow Harry's gaze. A group of Gryffindors were walking onto the pitch, each one clutching very familiar looking brooms, Nimbus 2001s. Alexandra watched as Flint landed and started a loud argument with Wood, presumably about who had the right to the pitch. She watched as Draco landed in front of John Potter, followed by a lot of angry pointing between brooms and smug looks from John. She watched Ginny land not too far off. John eventually noticed her, standing there wearing Slytherin quidditch gear, and utterly lost his shit. Finally, she watched Harry next to her, calmly studying the unfolding drama with his fingers lightly steepled together — doing nothing, just watching.

Yes, Alexandra thought. Harry would be far better put to use under the command of another. Far better to have someone else be leader of the Gray at Hogwarts. That would be a good thing to work towards, even if only to make sure Greengrass got the position. Daphne was Slytherin's betrothed after all, and already led the Gray in public. Surely she wouldn't squander Harry's many talents.

— DP & SW: NRiCaD —

For Hogwarts students, sneaking out at night shouldn't be easy. What it should be is a terrifying ordeal with unknown threats lurking around every corner. Paintings, ghosts, teachers, prefects, house elves, they all should form a security system so tight as to make even an animagus gnat think twice about breaking out. And that wasn't even taking into account the caretaker, Argus Filch, whom, despite being a squib, nevertheless seemed to have the magical ability to turn up exactly where ever out of bed students might be, never mind the fact that the castle bent space in such a way as to make his beat several times larger on the inside than the outside — and Hogwarts wasn't a small castle to start with. Sneaking out at night shouldn't be easy.

"Pass the crisps, Daphne."

"Ooooo, look, he restocked the fridge."

"Do you mind? Some of us are trying to do homework."

"C'mon Hermione, it's hardly a long trip."

"You don't have healer classes, combat lessons, and teaching the muggleborns."

"I do have combat lessons — we have them together!"

"You know what I mean."

"And I have seeker training now too. Flint was all like, 'I'm going to work your cute little arse right off!'"

"He didn't really say…?"

"No, of course not. Who's got the peanuts?"

*Sigh* "Well, I guess there's no point in working now. Where does your eye show us, Daphne?"

"We just reached the grand staircase."

"I'd love to be able to do that. Oh, thanks, Luna."

"Don't get your hopes up. Hermione, Harry, and I all tried last year and only I was able to open my inner eye. It's not a common ability."

*Munch* "Luna will be able to."

"I might be able to. It's always hit or miss with us Lovegoods."

"Hey, Daphne, have you ever used that to spy on Harry in the showers?"

"No! I — have — not!"

*Munch* "Ever been tempted?"

"No! Besides… Harry can sense magic, so he'd know it was there."

"Aha! So you have thought about it!"

And so on and so forth.

Not too much later, there was a tapping on the lid of the trunk. The girls all quietened and looked up. The trapdoor lid at the top of the stairs opened and Harry stuck his head inside. "We're there."

Sneaking out at night shouldn't be easy, but most students don't have a two-hundred galleon shrinkable trunk, the ability to fly, and a cloak able to hide the wearer even from the gaze of Death himself.

"Daphne! Hermione!" A beautiful ghost with a slight baby bump glided over as the two girls climbed out of the trunk. "I've missed you!" It was Angelystor.

Daphne and Hermione both smiled. "You as well," Daphne said. She couldn't help thinking the ghost looked a lot more solid these days. So much magic in the air had to be doing her good.

Angelystor turned to the others. "And who are these two?" she asked with a warm smile.

"My lady," said Harry, "may I present Luna Lovegood, of the Ancient and Noble House of Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, of the House of Weasley."

Luna and Ginny both gave slight curtseys.

"A pleasure." Angelystor turned back to Harry. "Is Heiress Black not with you?"

"Alexandra couldn't make it. Next week, I hope."

"Right." Angelystor clapped her hands together and motioned for the girls and Harry to gather round. She then spoke of the wondrous magics of divination, mostly for the benefit of the two newcomers, both of whom listened with rapt attention. She spoke of the many spells she learned as a student at the Shoe, and of after her death — of the rise of Muggleborn Light Lord Dimwiddy, the role both divination and the ever-strengthening Albion Family Magics played in his Second Magical British Empire, and finally of his eventual defeat, the chaos that followed, and the subsequent establishment of the ICW.

Daphne had heard it all before but that didn't matter. Angelystor spoke with more passion and strength of purpose than Binns ever did. After the introductory lecture, they split up and set to work on their individual projects. Hermione and Harry sat off to the side working on homework, Daphne practised controlling her inner eye with the large mirror set off to one side, and Ginny and Luna sat in the middle of the room with Angelystor, wands out, crystal balls in front of them, looking either giddy with excitement or relaxed with dreamy dreaminess. If by this point you need to be told which witch was which, then you haven't been paying attention.

"The wand incantation is 'videt immino,'" Angelystor said, repeating exactly the lesson she'd given the previous year. "the wand movement is three jabs diagonally upwards to the right, and a single small left spiral, along with the intention to know the severity of the threat you will face, all passed through your inner eye before being released from the tip of your wand and into the crystal ball at the exact end of the final spiral." She smiled. "Remember, finding your inner eye is by far the most difficult part, so go slow and try to feel it out."

Five minutes later, Luna Lovegood was rolling on the floor, screaming her lungs out, writhing in pain, eyes literally on fire.

— DP & SW: NRiCaD —

Nearly four hundred miles away, in a dimly-lit room, deep, deep under London, a woman dressed all in grey with a hood that magically hid her entire face, jerked up sharply. On the shelf high above her desk, several arcane looking implements—dusty and squeaky after years of non-use—started, ponderously, to move.

— DP & SW: NRiCaD —

"Remember, finding your inner eye is by far the most difficult part, so go slow and try to feel it out," Angelystor said. She floated backwards and studied the two girls carefully.

Daphne couldn't help but be curious. She lowered her wand from the mirror in front of her, and turned to watch. Only then did she realise that Harry and Hermione had also set down their quills. Harry in particular seemed especially interested.

"Videt immino," said Ginny, poking her wand into the crystal ball.

Nothing happened. Ginny pouted.

Luna still had her eyes closed.

"Try again," Angelystor suggested.

Ginny raised her wand.

And then Luna's eyes flew open, glowing white so brightly that shadows flickered across the dimly lit room.

Daphne gasped.

As though he'd been waiting for exactly this, Harry leapt to his feet, chair crashing to the floor behind him, just as Luna started to speak in a voice that was not her own. The words weren't many, but by the time they were over, Daphne couldn't help smiling. They were good words.

She stopped smiling when she saw Harry's face.

Harry wasn't smiling. His face was instead the colour of pure chalk.

"I need to go," he started, but just as the last word left his mouth, all hell broke loose. Luna let out an ear piercing scream and the light in her eyes flared — brighter than the sun, brighter than burning magnesium. It filled the whole hut and moments later, she was on the floor, rolling around, screaming her head off.

Luna's eyes were on fire.

"Luna!" Everyone scrambled to do something, but it was Harry who got there first. He grabbed the girl and forced away her hands — hands which had been engaged in a spirited attempt to claw out her own eyeballs. He jabbed his wand at her face, shouted an incantation, and dragged away the burning fire the way one might drag away a lassoed animal. Moments later, water splashed into two empty eye sockets.

Daphne flinched away. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Luna kicked one last time and then went limp in Harry's arms. She'd fainted.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted in a firm voice. "Help her!"

Hermione hurried over, waving and jabbing her wand like she was trying to swat a fly. Daphne recognised the spells as healer diagnostic chains.

"She's not going to die for at least thirty seconds," Hermione said quickly. "No, a minute — no five minutes — no, she's good for at least thirty minutes, I think, although there are some signs here I don't understand."

"Anything you can do?"

"No, this is way beyond my level."

"Take her to Madam Pomfrey. Contact me on our rings if anything critical comes up. There should be just enough range." Harry marched towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Daphne asked, while Hermione continued to wave her wand over Luna.

"I have to make sure that only we hear what Luna just said." And with that, Harry threw Daphne the trunk containing the spare broomsticks, shut the door behind him and shot up into the air, heading straight towards the nearest floo point to the shrieking shack,

The floo, despite what people who rarely use it are led to believe, is not instant. It might indeed only take a few minutes to get from the Burrow to London, but the Burrow is actually quite close to London. Hogwarts, on the other hand, is not. But fifteen minutes is still quicker than the next best alternative, and certainly quicker than say, broomstick or thestral.

Harry had snuck out of Hogwarts dozens of times before, but if sneaking out of Hogwarts shouldn't be easy, then it is nothing compared to how easy it should not be to sneak into, say, the Department of Mysteries, which is why Harry Potter, now ducking into the floo of his Hogsmeade apartment, had no intention whatsoever to sneak.