"When I'm 80 years old and sitting in my rocking chair, I'll be reading Harry Potter. And my family will say to me, 'After all this time?' And I will say 'Always.'"

- In memory of Alan Rickman

__________________________

T W E N T Y - F O U R
⋙⋘

That afternoon, Harry sat perched on the windowsill, overlooking the grounds through the hazy glass. On the bed beside him, Ron and Hermione were seated, each of their faces painted with unwavering concern.

They'd both known something was wrong the moment he'd arrived back and though he'd been in no mood to talk, he'd nevertheless obliged. The relief of having a huge weight lifted off of his chest lasted a few seconds before he realised that he might have just dragged Ron and Hermione into another mess; one that he wasn't certain they wanted to be a part of.

"Look," Harry began, breaking the placid silence, "I know it's a bad idea, but I just– I need answers." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, tousling it up like a birds nest. "Somebody tried to blow up that– that place while I was in there....and Percy? What could he have possibly been doing there? He was talking about me right before–" He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, not wanting to think about it. "We already know that something big is coming. And so far, we've got absolutely nothing. This is our best chance at finding some answers. Any answers." His grip tightened on the window ledge and this time he looked towards Hermione. "I need to find out what's happening. You of all people can understand that, Hermione."

She gave him a half-smile. "I know. You're not the only one who wants to know what's going on, but sneaking out to enter the Forbidden Forest?" She shook her head. "It's dangerous."

"We've been in there before. It'll be fine. And you don't have to come with me. I just thought I should keep you in the loop..."

Ron groaned. "Of course we're going to come, Harry. But bloody hell, are you sure you want to do this? Think of all of the spiders..." He shuddered.

"I'm sure," Harry insisted.

He raised his hands in surrender. "If it'll help you sleep at night, mate."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"Sorry."

"It's alright," Harry muttered. It was no secret between the three of them that sleeping had become an issue for him– even if it wasn't something they openly discussed. Come night, he knew the dreams would be worse than ever, especially with the eventful day he'd had. Harry was almost afraid to sleep. He was worried about what was coming. Ron and Hermione only had the slimmest idea of how much worse his dreams were getting, and even though he lied about things getting better, they both knew they weren't.

Even Ginny, knew little of his predicament and that was how he intended to keep it. Ron would never forgive him if his sister got wrapped up in his mess again. Harry wouldn't forgive himself which was exactly why he'd kept his mouth shut. He wasn't planning on introducing Ginny into the secret trip into the forest he'd scheduled either, and that was the way he wanted it to stay.

"What if we don't have to go into the forest?" Hermione wondered aloud, startling him out of his thoughts, "I'm going to go have a look at the library. I'll see if I can find anything that might be of help to us. It might not be necessary for us to talk to the centaurs."

She stood up and at the same time Ron's stomach grumbled loudly. "I'm going to go and see if the House Elves can fix me something to eat," he muttered in embarrassment, taking off down the stairs.

Hermione lingered in the room for a few seconds longer. "What about you, Harry? Are you alright?" she asked, tentatively.

"I won't be. Not until I find out what's going on."

"Alright." She nodded, hesitating briefly by the stairwell and giving him one final concerned glance.

Then she too disappeared down the staircase after Ron.

Harry turned his attention back to the window. The scene outside quite closely resembled the post cards the Dursley's used to send out to their other relatives out of obligation. Only, the Dursley's never bothered wasting their money on trivial things such as postcards for the lesser members of their extended family. They'd always bought the cheapest and ugliest cards and Hogwarts, with the horrible weather it had been having that day, looked much like one of the Dursley's cheap postcards. Pale and dreary grey sky. The sun, hidden behind dark angry clouds. Sometime in the afternoon, a thin blanket of snow had settled itself over the grass. It had already begun to melt, leaving the ground looking like mud. It wasn't even Winter yet and already they'd had a little bit of snow.  Hopefully, there might be a few more nice days before the coldest season of the year arrived. Harry shivered against the window, pulling his robes tighter around himself.

He wondered what his friends would have said if he'd told them everything.

Harry had told them about the building, the centaurs and the other creatures. He'd told them about Percy and the friend he'd been to see. He'd told them about the Fiendfyre and the glass jar that had rolled to his feet.

Almost everything.

Except for one small detail, that in retrospect, wasn't all that small;

He'd saved a centaur. And he hadn't used his wand.

Eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather core. It was still in his pocket, and it hadn't been used all day. He pulled it out and examined it in the grey light. He wasn't sure why he had kept that detail to himself. It wasn't because it had scared him. Or maybe it was.

Either way, it was strange to think that he'd been capable of doing magic without it. Without anything.

He ran his fingers along the pane of the glass distractedly. The change in temperature had invited frost to claim the window. He wiped it away absentmindedly.

With a small sigh, he let his hand fall back to rest back in his lap.

"I'm overthinking things," Harry muttered. There was no way he could have used wandless magic.

There's only one way to find out, his annoying subconscious told him.

His inner mind self thing, that little voice in his head– whatever, was right. He supposed it was worth a try, and if he was lucky, it might provide him with some sanctuary.

Climbing off the ledge, Harry searched the room for a suitable object to practice on. He almost settled on Neville's toad, Trevor, an oily yellow lump, but he figured Neville probably wouldn't appreciate him using the toad like a lab experiment. Instead, he chose a ball of yarn he found underneath Ron's bed. Mrs Weasley had given it to him in the mail a few days ago with the hopes of Ron being 'inspired' to want to use it to learn to knit, but the only thing his friend had been inspired to do was throw it under his bed.

Harry figured Ron wouldn't mind what happened to the yarn.

Laying it on the middle of his bed, he sat cross legged, making sure to pull the red drapes around his bed if any one were to walk in.

He studied the yarn. It was an ugly yellow, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Trevor, the even uglier toad. That gave him an idea.

Harry placed his wand beside him and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to utter the spell, a thought struck him. He realised the magic he'd done back in the building had been both without a wand and without words.

The strange thing was; he hadn't had much practice with non-verbal magic. Of all the teachers, only Snape had taken it upon himself to lightly touch on the topic in the sixth year. Harry had failed miserably.

It was only in the current year, that non-verbal magic had really been introduced and so far it was only basic. 

He thought back to earlier in the day. He'd just willed it to happen. The centaur had been in danger and he wanted to save him. He didn't think. It happened on its own. Maybe that's what he needed to do again.

Harry held his breath as he imagined the yarn transforming into an ugly yellow toad just like Trevor. When he opened his eyes, the yarn was still yarn.

What if I need to think of the spell?

Harry subconsciously thanked his subconscious for the great idea. Well, technically, his subconscious was thanking itself but–

He shook his head to clear his mind.

Closing his eyes once more, he thought of the incantation and imagined himself mentally waving his wand.

Ugly toad, big and fat, turn this yarn into exactly that.

He strained his ears for any sounds– maybe a croak? Gingerly, he opened an eye, hoping to find an ugly toad staring back at him.

No such luck.

He was met with the same old yarn. It hadn't even moved an inch let alone grown legs and eyes.

Maybe it had just been a fluke.

Harry slumped into his mattress with a defeated exhale and stared at the ceiling.

⋙⋘

"Harry!" Hermione called hours later, bouncing into the room. Her voice was oozing excitement. "I found something!" she declared. He averted his eyes from the ceiling and quickly sat up.

"What did you find?" he asked, struggling to contain his own excitement. He wanted answers. He needed answers.

"It's important! Come on!" she shouted, grabbing his arm and pulling him down the stairs with her.

When they reached the common room, Hermione let go of his hand and dashed towards one of the small tables. Various books were lying open on the surface, and another pile was stacked untouched on the floor. Of the books on the table, hastily scribbled notes were poking out between pages, Hermione's handwriting decorating the parchment. Ron stood in the corner looking uneasy. "Spiders," he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Big furry spiders..."

"I borrowed a few books," she stated simply, dragging him into a chair. "The library was about to close."

"This...looks like a lot more than a few," he said, pulling out a chair and spreading his arms out in front of him.

Hermione snatched the book closest to her, leafing through until she found the page she was looking for, marked with a piece of scrap ribbon. She ran her finger down the page until she stopped halfway down. "Centaur's Around the World," she stated. "That's the subheading. This is where I found most of my information. The other books I went through didn't have nearly as much material and it was mostly scattered."

He sat up straighter. "What does it say?"

"I could bore you with the details–"

"Please don't," Ron cut in.

"Fine. Put simply, that place Percy visited, it's a safe haven of sorts...and its run by a group of well...centaurs."

"Figures," Harry said.

She turned the page and ran her finger along the first sentence. "See? Except these centaurs are very different to the ones we're familiar with in the forest. They're a different breed. It doesn't mention their definite origins, but it says here that they're commonly located in America among other places."

Harry furrowed his brows. "America? That's where Percy is from?"

She nodded.

"Hermione, have I told you you're a genius?"

She went pink, but continued talking. "Some of that particular breed of centaurs started up a group. They refer to themselves as the 'Party Ponies.' From what I can tell, they've got bases across the world. You found one of them."

"How come we've never heard about them before?"

"Because they're foreign. The wizarding world prefers to keep us in the dark about them. It's a miracle I found what I did."

"What about the other creatures? The goat people and those water women?" Ron asked. "That's what you said you saw, right Harry?"

He nodded. "Yeah, the goat people are called satyrs I think?" he questioned unsurely.

"Satyrs. Some people call them fauns after the Romans and some–" She shook her head. "But it doesn't really matter because I couldn't find much on them anyway. Just this." She reached across the table and opened another book, balancing it in her lap. She flipped to a page somewhere near the end that'd been marked with another discoloured ribbon. "From what I could remember, satyrs have been extinct for centuries but I wanted to double check. I was right."

Harry frowned. "That can't be. I saw them."

"Maybe you were hallucinating?" Ron offered.

"They were there! Right in front of me. I couldn't have been hallucinating, could I?" He paused, as a thought struck him. "What if the satyrs have just been hiding all this time and that's why everyone thinks they've died out?"

"It's possible. Remember when we learned about the Great Northern War during History of Magic?" They both shook their heads. "Well, Professor Binns taught us about how the Scraggley Puffs disappeared around that time– oh come on, how can you not remember? We wrote an entire essay on it!"

"We did?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"You two are impossible." She blew a strange of her bushy hair out of her face and took a breath. "Anyway, the Scraggley Puffs were thought to have died out but sometime during the beginning of the nineteenth century they made a reappearance."

"So maybe the same thing happened with the satyrs?"

"Maybe. But there's only one way to know for sure. I couldn't find anything else in the library and I'd suggest the Restricted section but I doubt we'll find much else. I think we're going to have to talk to the centaurs if we want answers. I know," she said before Ron could interrupt, "It's not the best idea, but if we can find Firenze, he might be able to help us."

Ron swallowed. "But the spiders," he protested weakly.

Hermione ignored him. "As much as I don't want to admit it, Percy is hiding something." She fiddled with the hem of her robes. "I tried to ignore it but there is so much that doesn't add up and if I'm being honest, he's at the centre of it all. If we want to find out anything our best bet is the centaurs."

"So much for 'he's having a hard time,' and blah blah," Ron commented. "Wouldn't it just be easier if we asked him?"

"Oh of course, why didn't I think of it?" Harry mocked. "'Hi, Percy. So we were just wondering if you're hiding anything. You know I kind of followed you yesterday and now I'm really suspicious. Just wanted to clear things up with you and make sure you don't have a hidden agenda or anything. Thanks for understanding–"

"Alright! I get the point!" Ron broke in. "Into the forest we go. But it's just us three! No one else. We're not bringing my sister into any of this. Got it?"

"I wasn't planning on it," Harry said.

"Good. Now, will all three of us still fit under the cloak?" he asked.

⋙⋘

It felt like forever until the last of the Gryffindor's had dispersed into their dorms. Ron, Harry and Hermione had stayed lounging around the common room with Ginny until she decided to go to bed. The whole time Harry had felt the guilt gnawing at his insides at keeping something from her. But the thought of keeping her safe was enough for him to zip his lips.

Finally, when Raymond Parks had stumbled off to his dormitory, half asleep, Harry produced the invisibility cloak from behind the cushion he'd stuffed it under.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Ron muttered.

"Hey," Harry said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It'll be fine. Hermione will protect you from the spiders."

He scowled as Harry lifted the cloak over the three of them. It looked like they all fit. Until he looked down.

"Uh, Harry? I can see my toes....and my feet, and my shins. And I think I see a bit of my knees over there," Ron observed.

"I don't think we all fit under here anymore." Hermione slipped out from under the cloak and looked disapprovingly down at their legs. "I can still see a little bit of your feet."

"Great. What do we do now?" Ron grumbled, sticking his head out.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "One of us can go under the cloak. That will be you, Harry, and I can cast a temporary disillusionment charm on Ron and I."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." She tapped her wand on Ron's ginger hair as he stepped out of the cloak. She murmured a quiet incantation and slowly, his head began to disappear as it blended in to its surroundings. The rest of his body soon followed. Ron looked baffled as he lifted his hand in the air. At least, Harry thought it was his hand. All he could see was a faint ripple, for Ron had transformed to match the colours and texture of the wall behind him like a chameleon.

Hermione then cast the spell on herself and then the two of them were just short of being invisible. "It's dark, so it'll be hard for anyone to spot us unless they're paying careful attention."

"But how am I supposed to know where you two are if I can't even see you?" he questioned.

"I'll go first," she said, "wherever you see the air distort, it's me. Ron you follow behind and Harry you take the rear."

There was a snicker from Ron. "Rear."

"Come on." Harry watched the portrait door open as Hermione edged out. He waited for Ron, before following after them.

They'd only taken a few steps away from the dorms, when the Fat Lady let out a loud irritated growl. "Disrupting my sleep at this time!" she screeched. "You don't even have the audacity to appear to me! Reveal yourselves!"

Quietly, Harry tiptoed after Ron and Hermione away from the Fat Lady and towards the staircases. They were careful to avoid the trick step and managed to reach the first floor without running into anyone. Only Peeves was manning the hallways, occasionally floating past and giggling, always with his ghostly arms full of new items. Harry felt sorry for whoever was going to be on the other end of that prank.

The three of them were almost out of the castle when Hermione hissed out a small, "Stop!" Harry halted in his tracks and cupped his ear. He could hear voices coming closer. It didn't come as a surprise to him. Things had been too easy. Something had been bound to go wrong eventually. Quickly and quietly, he pressed himself up against the nearest wall, hoping Ron and Hermione were smart enough to do the same. Then he waited.

"-you must understand, the creatures in the forest are already stirring. I fear that this dark time may be on us sooner than we think." A deep, yet unmistakably female voice.

"Ah, perhaps. Perhaps not. You don't give the students enough credit, my dear Dorian. A smart bunch, this lot." A male voice.

The two figures appeared at the opposite end of the hallway. As they got closer, Harry could make out their features. On the left was Slughorn. Beside him was a tall female with close cropped hair and a few strings of wispy upper lip hair that he knew were there even if he couldn't see them in the lighting. It was the latest guise of Professor Trintheus. Harry had learned not to question her ever-changing appearance and personality. It had become customary.

"You and I have both the faintest inkling of what might be heading our way. I don't doubt for a second that your faith in the students is misplaced, Horace, but I fear that they are nowhere near prepared to face what is coming."

"Mmm, always the pessimist, Dorian."

"What do you propose we do?"

"I suppose we teach them as much as we can with the time we have."

"The time we have? Our time is running out? We both know that. We've had more than enough time. Decades of it. And yet we are still no closer to anything." A pause. "Have you found any others?"

"Aside from ourselves and Shacklebolt? Only the three that I mentioned–" They turned a corner and slowly the rest of their words faded into empty sound. He waited a few moments before calling out to the others.

"Here." The air distorted as he felt Hermione stand next to him.

"Did you bloody hear that?" Ron hissed, joining them. "What did Trintheus mean by the others? Do you think they know something?"

"We don't have time to stand here! We'll figure it out later. Come on," she whispered. The space beside Harry suddenly cleared again and he knew that Hermione had resumed their path.

He sent an invisible glance towards Ron before taking off after her.

Outside, the air was icy. It chilled Harry to the bone. He was regretting not wearing any extra layers.

A light shower of snow had begun to fall again, so they didn't need to worry about leaving footprints. The imprints on the ground lasted long enough for Harry to easily be able to trace the two ahead of him. By the time they reached the beginning of the forest, a fair amount of snow had already filled up the first few of their marks.

"What now?" Ron asked, taking on the appearance of the tree behind him.

Harry pulled off his cloak, shivering as a draft of cold air hit him. He didn't pay much attention to the cold being far too preoccupied with the conversation he'd just overheard to fully think. "We find the centaurs," came Hermione's response.

"What about Slughorn and Trintheus?" he asked.

"Not now," she muttered. "I need time to think."

"Alright, well, how long until this wears off?"

"Here." She pulled her wand out and repeated the same incantation as before but it was clear her mind was on other things. Moments later, the three of them were standing in all their non-invisibleness glory together.

"How are we supposed to find them?" Harry asked uncertainly. "I don't suppose there's a centaur tracking spell."

"That's wonderful," she responded in a daze. Her eyes cleared and she shook her head. "Sorry, umm, well no, not one I've heard of. I guess we wait for them to find us."

"That might take ages. We should have just dressed up like Umbridge or something," Ron complained. "I don't suppose either of you have a handful of her hair or any polyjuice potion on demand?" He wrinkled his nose. "Never mind. Gross. I'd rather kiss Trevor than drink Umbridge flavoured–wait, nope. I take it back. That's disgusting." He shuddered and shook his head to rid himself of the nasty thoughts.

"Shhh," Hermione hissed. "Do you want someone to hear us?"

"Hold on a minute, that's a good idea," Harry said.

"It is?"

"You're right," Hermione exclaimed. She lifted her wand. "Lumos." The tip ignited in a small white flare. Ron and Harry did the same. "This way!" They trailed along after her as she pushed her way through an opening between two trees.

"I still don't understand..." Ron grumbled, squeezing past the gnarled trunks.

"Think about it. The centaurs have always showed up when someone was being particularly loud. We've never found them. They've always found us," Hermione said, pointing her wand down at the ground. "Down here," she directed, pushing Harry forwards. He stumbled down the small slope.

"A warning would be nice, next time," he said, grabbing onto a tree for balance.

Ron landed beside him a second later. "Nice one."

Hermione skidded down the hill after them, albeit a bit more gracefully. "If we're loud they should hear us," she said.

"So noise is good?" Ron asked, lifting himself up. 

"Not yet, we need to go deeper," she responded.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?"

"I've cast a spell. It's like breadcrumbs. We can follow them back."

"Breadcrumbs?" Ron asked quizzically.

"Haven't you ever heard of Hansel and Gretel, Ron?" She sighed, leading them around a boulder.

"Ham and Pretzel, what?"

Harry snorted. "It's a muggle fairytale," he said helpfully.

"Oh... like the Satan clouds and the Easter monkey– What?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm dating an idiot," she muttered, stepping over a tree root.

"Hey! I heard that."

Harry let out a light laugh.

Ron took the initiative to change the conversation. "So is now a good time to talk about what we heard back there?"

Hermione trembled. "The creatures are stirring in the forest..." she whispered in the empty night, shaking her head. "What could Trintheus have meant?"

"And to think we still came in here," Ron grumbled silently.

"Trintheus and Slughorn know something. I'm willing to bet that it's got something to do with Percy Jackson," Harry said. Hermione shrugged reluctantly. "Maybe."

No more was said after that. The three of them continued to trek silently through the woods for another good fifteen minutes. Once they'd stopped talking, they noticed how quiet the forest was. Unusually quiet.

The only sounds to accompany the heavy silence was their breathing. Occasionally, they'd hear something rustling in the bushes, or the sound of a snapping twig, but they brushed it off as animal activity.

Abruptly, Hermione stopped walking. Harry smacked into her from behind.
"Oof."

She didn't move. "What is it?" Ron asked, coming to stand by her side. "Oh."

Straight ahead, a small birch tree stood, coated in a glittery substance dripping down the side of the bark.

Ron took a step closer, and held his wand to the tree, leaning down to get a better look. "It's everywhere," he said, looking down. He lowered his wand to the forest floor. A clump of brown leaves were splashed in the same glittering substance.

"Unicorn blood?"

"Harry," Hermione said, "Unicorn blood is silver."

"That looks like–" He jolted backwards. "That's– that's the colour Annabeth's blood was." He gulped, taking another step back. "Gold. It's gold."

"Ichor."

They turned around in surprise. On the hillside behind them, the silvery white hair of Firenze the centaur materialised.

"Good evening, Harry Potter and friends. The stars tell me it has been longer than you think since our last encounter."

"Firenze," Hermione stated.

"What brings you to the Forbidden Forest at this untimely hour?" The centaur questioned, leaping from the hillside and coming to stand before them. "My kind have become more accepting of yours but it is in my best interest that I'm not seen conversing with humans again. Something tells me they will not be so quick to forgive this time."

"We need your help," Harry said, voice trembling. "It's important."

Firenze regarded him with his azure eyes. "The stars told me of your coming but not of why."

"We came to ask about the centaurs. The other ones." As an afterthought he added, "and- and the blood."

They parted to the side as the centaur padded over to the birch tree. "It is just as I thought," he murmured, eyeing the blood.   

"What is it, Firenze?"

He faced around again, surveying them with a grave face. "Many of my kind have sworn an oath to never speak of this. I will tell you what I can, albeit it is not much." He lowered his voice. "There are many clans of centaurs. My brethren and I are just a sample of many. Which do you speak of?"

"These centaurs, some of them belong to a group called the Party Ponies," Hermione explained. "We wondered if you knew anything about them."

Firenze nodded thoughtfully. "All centaurs are descendants of Centaurus, born of Ixion and Nephele. From him, came our race and over time we spread and migrated across the world. We were influenced by different things and so came the clans, often mistaken as breeds. We are the same. But different. Some of us have forgotten our true origins; that of Ancient Greece. Some of us have not."

"Have you?" Ron asked.

Firenze smiled sadly. "It is difficult to tell. But my clan has taken on other hobbies." He stared blissfully at the night sky. "The centaurs, the ones you call the Party Ponies are more Greek than I. Most in America, but many still linger in Greece, and some in Africa. A small group of them have taken to London. Our clans remain separate. They are wild and impulsive and have been affected by the doings of the mortal world. The substance you call alcohol has influenced them greatly."

"What about satyrs?" Harry spoke up. "I saw some. Haven't they all died out?"

"I suppose that is what they'd like you to think."

"They?"

"Your wizard ministry." The centaur heaved a sigh. "Alas, that is all I can say. I have already spoken of more than I should have. Worlds remain separate for good reason." Firenze tilted his head to the gold blood covered leaves. "It is not safe here anymore. You should go." He looked at the sky again. "Be careful. Jupiter and Saturn align on the final day of this month. It means nothing of good. A very bad omen." His voice went cold, sending shivers down his spine. "A very bad omen. He will strike then."

"Wait! Firenze!"

The centaur smiled sadly. "Good luck." And with that he vanished into the trees.

"He will strike then," Ron echoed. "Any chance he is the magical fairy of candy?"

An unsettling silence blanketed the Forbidden Forest.

"We should go," Harry whispered, the hairs at the back of his neck prickling.

"Yes, we shou–" Hermione stopped. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That."

A twig snapped. Hermione moved fast. "Alarte Ascendare!" She shouted, pointing her wand at the trees. The incantation was followed by a cry of surprise.

"Let me down!" someone yelled. They took a few steps forward and stared up. Hanging in the trees above them was none other than Draco Malfoy– in his nightwear no less.

"Malfoy?" The three of them exclaimed simultaneously.

"If it isn't the Amazing Bouncing Ferret. What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Ron snapped. "Did you follow us here, you manipulative bast–"

"Ron!" Hermione chided.

"If you don't put me down this instant–"

"You're not exactly in the position to be making threats," Harry accused, narrowing his eyes. "Did you follow us?"

"Potter." His gaze darkened as it landed on Harry. For a second, his confidence wavered but he regained his composure, somehow, despite hanging from a tree. "Granger, Weasel. Fancy seeing the three of you here at this," he raised his hands, making air quotes, "untimely hour." 

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

Malfoy shifted uncomfortably in the tree.

"Go on! Spit it out!" Ron demanded.

A glare took over his features. "Fine," he hissed. "I want in."

Hermione frowned. "You...want...in?" she said slowly.

Ron snorted. "I think hanging upside down is making him a little mad. You think we'd actually believe that? Just because you switched sides during the war at the last minute doesn't mean we're still on the same side. Why would you want to help now?"

"That's none of your business!"

He scoffed. 

"You think this is funny? I can go back to the castle and go tell McGonagall about your little trip into the forest, right now. And while I'm at it, how about I let your Weasel sister in on a secret. Maybe I should tell Percy and Clarisse about your suspicions too."

"You're hanging from a tree," Harry pointed out, hoping Malfoy couldn't sense his urgency to get out of there. Bad omens.

"You're not low enough to just leave me here. I'll get down at some point and spill your secret."

Ron scowled. "Hermione's the smartest witch in the whole school. I'm sure she'd be perfectly capable of erasing your memory."

He paled. Harry shifted restlessly.

"I-I'll make an Unbreakable Vow!" he blurted.

A chill ran down his spine like melting ice.

"That–that's not necessary," Hermione tripped over her words and shot Harry a backwards glance.

"I think you should let him down, Hermione," he said quietly. "It's late and I don't like this. It's too quiet. We should go back."

"But– fine." She pointed her wand and the blonde boy landed in a pile of leaves, the moon shining off his bleach blonde hair.

"What did you do that for?" Ron demanded. "We could have just left him there. On second thought, we passed a Malfoy-sized ditch on the way here. It shouldn't take long to dump his body and make a run for it." No one laughed. Ron threw his hands up in the air in surrender. "I was kidding!"

They turned to face the Slytherin but all that was left of him was the rustling of the leaves and his receding footsteps.

"Well that's just brilliant."

"He won't say anything."

"How do you know?"

"Let's go," Harry interrupted quickly. The forest was creeping him out as was everything he'd heard in the last hour. They turned back the way they'd come, following Hermione's invisible breadcrumbs and the sounds of Malfoy's retreat.

It was then that a single thought struck Harry. The end of the month was Halloween. How fitting.

⋙⋘

(PLEASE READ: IMPORTANT)

This update took a while, and I've finally figured out why. It's hard enough dealing with the complications of the plot, even more so dealing with the complications of the characters too.

A few chapters back, it was mentioned that Ron was kind of reluctant to get involved and all that and when writing this chapter, originally, most of that was supposed to come into play again (with Ron not wanting to help because he didn't want people to get hurt and blah blah.)

I decided things were going to get overcomplicated and unnecessary.

Things would be getting too sad.

Percy and Harry having issues is enough. Add Ron to that mix and... You get the idea. I can't resolve everyone's issues, and Ron's were going to be way too complex.

So I'll be fixing a few things up.
Chapters that have been affected are;

- 14 || ENCOUNTERS (from: "Later on in the evening, just after supper" to "insert text here"

and a few small details in
- 18 || WATER

All that I would recommend reading is the mentioned parts in chapter fourteen which shouldn't take long.

Sorry for the confusion, I just was finding it hard to carry on the story unless I changed a few things and even now I'm still not very happy with the chapter. It feels way to rushed but anyway.

P.S. (For old readers) like two months ago I updated the beginning of chapter one, it's not all that relevant right now but if u have the time go check it out x

And, a few previous chapter titles have been changed because I didn't like them. (Not that relevant)

Thankyou for putting up with me while I sorted things out. Many thanks, readers x

Farewell for now, I'll see you guys again soon (hopefully)