received the memory from Slughorn. He had told Elara, Ron, and Hermione everything that had happened during next morning's Charms lesson (having first cast the Muffliato spell upon those nearest them). They were all satisfyingly impressed by the way Harry had wheedled the memory out of Slughorn and positively awed when he told them about Voldemort's Horcruxes and Dumbledore's promise to take Harry and Elara along, should he find another one.

"Wow," said Ron, when Harry had finally finished telling them everything; Ron was waving his wand very vaguely in the direction of the ceiling without paying the slightest bit of attention to what he was doing. "Wow. You're actually going to go with Dumbledore. . . and try and destroy . . . wow."

"Lara's coming with us," said Harry, his hand laced with Elara's under the table. "Dumbledore said that without her, we're screwed."

Their affection for each other had grown since what Harry had said since the Felix Felicis.

"Wait — Harry, you said these Horcruxes were parts of Voldemort's soul?" asked Elara.

Harry nodded.

"Oh my god, I am so fucking stupid! Anya literally told me about them, except she called them the 'Anima Exercituum'. . . . ugh."

"Ron, you're making it snow," said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes had started to fall.

Lavender Brown, Elara noticed, glared at Hermione from a neighboring table through very red eyes, and Hermione immediately let go of Ron's arm.

"Oh yeah," said Ron, looking down at his shoulders in vague surprise. "Sorry . . . looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now. . . ."

He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder. Lavender burst into tears. Ron looked immensely guilty and turned his back on her.

"We split up," he told Elara and Harry out of the corner of his mouth. "Last night. When she saw me coming out of the dormitory with Hermione. Obviously she couldn't see you, Harry, so she thought it had just been the two of us."

"Ah," said Harry. "Well — you don't mind it's over, do you?"

"No," Ron admitted. "It was pretty bad while she was yelling, but at least I didn't have to finish it."

"Coward," said Hermione, though she looked amused. "Well, it was a bad night for romance all around. Ginny and Dean split up too."

Elara's mouth fell open.

"How come?"

"Oh, something really silly . . . She said he was always trying to help her through the portrait hole, like she couldn't climb in herself . . . but they've been a bit rocky for ages."

Elara glanced over at Dean on the other side of the classroom. He certainly looked unhappy.

"Of course, this puts your Quidditch team in quite the dilemma, Harry," said Hermione. "If Ginny and Dean aren't speaking . . ."

"Should be interesting," said Elara.

"Flitwick," said Ron in a warning tone.

The tiny little Charms master was bobbing his way toward them, and Elara and Hermione were the only ones who had managed to turn vinegar into wine; their glass flasks was full of deep crimson liquid, whereas the contents of Harry's and Ron's were still murky brown.

"Now, now, boys," squeaked Professor Flitwick reproachfully. "A little less talk, a little more action . . . Let me see you try. . . ."

Together they raised their wands, concentrating with all their might, and pointed them at their flasks. Harry's vinegar turned to ice; Ron's flask exploded.

"Yes . . . for homework," said Professor Flitwick, reemerging from under the table and pulling shards of glass out of the top of his hat, "practice."

They had one of their rare joint free periods after Charms and walked back to the common room together. Ron seemed to be positively lighthearted about the end of his relationship with Lavender, and Hermione seemed cheery too, though when asked what she was grinning about she simply said, "It's a nice day."

The portrait hole swung open and there was a small group of seventh years clustered around one person. It took Elara a moment to register who it was.

"Katie! You're back! Are you okay?" cried Elara, rushing over to greet her.

Katie Bell was looking completely healthy and surrounded by her jubilant friends.

"I'm really well!" she said happily. "They let me out of St. Mungo's on Monday, I had a couple of days at home with Mum and Dad and then came back here this morning. Leanne was just telling me about McLaggen and the last match, well done Elara and Hermione! Breaking both sides of his jaw. . . ."

"Yeah," said Harry, "well, now you're back and Ron's fit, we'll have a decent chance of thrashing Ravenclaw, which means we could still be in the running for the Cup. Listen, Katie . . ." He dropped his voice as Katie's friends started gathering up their things; apparently they were late for Transfiguration. ". . . that necklace . . . can you remember who gave it to you now?"

"No," said Katie, shaking her head ruefully. "Everyone's been asking me, but I haven't got a clue. The last thing I remember was walking into the ladies' in the Three Broomsticks."

"You definitely went into the bathroom, then?" said Hermione.

"Well, I know I pushed open the door," said Katie, "so I suppose whoever Imperiused me was standing just behind it. After that, my memory's a blank until about two weeks ago in St. Mungo's. Listen, I'd better go, I wouldn't put it past McGonagall to give me lines even if it is my first day back. . . ."

She caught up her bag and books and hurried after her friends, leaving Elara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione to sit down at a window table and ponder what she had told them.

"So it must have been a girl or a woman who gave Katie the necklace," said Hermione, "to be in the ladies' bathroom."

"Or someone who looked like a girl or a woman," said Harry. "Don't forget, there was a cauldron full of Polyjuice Potion at Hogwarts. We know some of it got stolen. . . . I think I'm going to take another swig of Felix," said Harry, "and have a go at the Room of Requirement again."

"That would be a complete waste of potion," said Elara flatly, "Luck can only get you so far, Harry."

"Couldn't we make some more?" Ron asked Harry, "It'd be great to have a stock of it. . . . Have a look in the book . . ."

Harry pulled his copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and flipped to Felix Felicis.

"Blimey, it's seriously complicated," he said, running an eye down the list of ingredients. "And it takes six months . . . You've got to let it stew. . . ."

"Typical," said Ron.

The following fortnight saw the best Quidditch practices Elara had ever seen. The team was so pleased to be rid of McLaggen, so glad to have Katie back at last, that they were flying extremely well. Ginny did not seem at all upset about the breakup with Dean, she seemed fueled by it.

If Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by a margin of three hundred points then they would win the Championship. If they won by less than three hundred points, they would come second to Ravenclaw; if they lost by a hundred points they would be third behind Hufflepuff and if they lost by more than a hundred, they would be in fourth place.

The run-up to this crucial match had all the usual features:members of rival Houses attempting to intimidate opposing teams in the corridors; unpleasant chants about individual players being rehearsed loudly as they passed; the team members themselves either swaggering around enjoying all the attention or else dashing into bathrooms between classes to throw up.

Elara and Draco were in the boy's bathroom again, as they had been doing so for the last few weeks. Draco refused to break down in front of Elara again, but he apparently found that he liked listening to Elara talk about all the interesting and mundane things about her life, which led to coffee in a rather unconventional place twice a week.

However, Elara saw that Draco seemed to be more sickly than ever this time.

"Draco, if there's anything I can do — "

He shook his head vigorously.

"He'll kill you if you knew. . . ."

Elara slumped back against the sink.

"I can protect you. You don't have to do whatever you have to do."

Again, Draco shook his head, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

"I have to do it soon or he'll kill me."

Tears started streaming down his face. He gave a great gasp and a shudder, looking up into the mirror.

He wheeled around and shot a hex towards the door, shattering a lamp. Elara jumped up. Harry threw himself sideways and flicked his wand. Draco blocked it, raising his wand for another go.

"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, who had been hovering near Elara and Draco, trying to comfort him. "Stop! STOP!"

"You two!" shouted Elara, "cut it out!"

She genuinely had no idea what to do. There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry then attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy's ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried, "Cruci —"

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly.

Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

"Oh my god, Oh my god. . . ." repeated Elara as she scrambled to Draco's side.

"No —" gasped Harry.

Slipping and staggering, Harry had gotten to his feet and plunged toward Draco, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest.

"No — I didn't —"

"It doesn't matter what you meant to do," said Elara sharply, "Draco might fucking die."

Draco was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. Elara had no idea what to do except stop the blood. She pulled Draco's shirt off of him began wrapping it around his chest. The material wasn't enough. Without a second thought, Elara yanked her own shirt off and tied it around his middle.

The blood began soaking through, but it was enough for the time being. There were a few cuts that were uncovered, so Elara pressed her hands over them, applying intense pressure.

"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!" Myrtle screamed.

The door banged open behind them and they looked up, terrified: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Draco, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Elara wiped the residue from Draco's face and Snape repeated his spell.

Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. Elara was still watching, horrified, barely aware that she too was soaked in blood and water. Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead. When Snape had performed his countercurse for the third time, he half-lifted Draco into a standing position.

"Tonks, take Draco to the hospital wing quickly. I trust your quick thinking saved his life, unlike Potter's idiocy to use a spell he's never seen before. Go."

Elara took Draco's free arm, waving her wand so that her robes would button over her bare midriff, and took off supporting Draco.

"You're going to be okay. . . . You're going to be okay. . . ." whispered Elara over and over again.

They made it to the hospital wing with the help of Ginny, who saw Elara struggling to carry a limp Draco. Elara watched on with worry as Madam Pomfrey poured Dittany on the wounds. Draco was gasping each time the cold liquid touched a fresh wound. Elara was chewing on her fist.

Elara was walking back to the common room when Harry came sprinting toward her, two Advanced Potion-Making books in hand. She had no time to open her mouth when Harry hooked her arm and began tugging her along. She had no time to be impossibly angry with Harry, as she sensed his fear and desperation.

Harry paced in front of The Room of Requirement until a door appeared. He wrenched it open, grabbed Elara, pulled her inside along with him, and slammed it shut. He gasped for air, acting as if he had ran a marathon.

"What are we doing?" asked Elara, looking around, "and where are we?"

"Somewhere I can get rid of this book," said Harry, flashing his copy of the potions book.

Elara cocked her head to the side slightly. A feeling of pride swelled within her, seeing that Harry was disgusted by the book and wanted be to rid of it.

"Close your eyes, and I'll hide it."

Harry nodded.

"Be quick."

He closed his eyes and Elara turned on her foot, wandering between alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hiddenby castle-proud house-elves. There were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough life in them to hover half heartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like dragon eggshells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords, and a heavy, bloodstained axe.

Elara hurried forward into one of the many alleyways between all this hidden treasure. She turned right past an enormous stuffed troll, ran on a short way, took a left at the broken Vanishing Cabinet in which Montague had got lost the previous year, finally pausing beside a large cupboard that seemed to have had acid thrown at its blistered surface. She opened one of the cupboard's creaking doors: It had already been used as a hiding place for something in a cage that had long since died; its skeleton had five legs. In a moment of dangerous impulsivity, Elara flickered her fingers and held the book over a forming flame. It was disintegrated in seconds.

She stole a glance and saw a dusty but beautiful tiara. She itched to try it on for fun, but decided against it, wondering if she'd be able to find it again. Wandering back through the alleyways and roads, she found her way back to Harry.

"It's hidden."

He kissed her quickly, opened the door, and sprinted towards wherever he was going.

"I won't say 'I told you so,' " said Hermione, an hour later in the common room.

"Leave it, Hermione," said Ron angrily.

Harry had just finished telling Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what had happened, not that there seemed to have been much need. Elara had filled them in beforehand, and the news had traveled very fast: Apparently Moaning Myrtle had taken it upon herself to pop up in every bathroom in the castle to tell the story; Draco had already been visited in the hospital wing by Pansy Parkinson, who had lost no time in vilifying Harry far and wide, and Snape had told the staff precisely what had happened.

Harry had already been called out of the common room to endure fifteen highly unpleasant minutes in the company of Professor McGonagall, who had told him he was lucky not to have been expelled and that she supported wholeheartedly Snape's punishment of detention every Saturday until the end of term.

"I told you there was something wrong with that Prince person, "Hermione said, evidently unable to stop herself. "And I was right, wasn't I?"

"No, I don't think you were," said Harry stubbornly.

"Harry," said Hermione, "how can you still stick up for that book when that spell —"

"Will you stop harping on about the book!" snapped Harry. "The Prince only copied it out! It's not like he was advising anyone to use it! For all we know, he was making a note of something that had been used against him!"

"I don't believe this," said Hermione. "You're actually defending —"

"I'm not defending what I did!" said Harry quickly. "I wish I hadn't done it, and not just because I've got about a dozen detentions. You know I wouldn't've used a spell like that, not even on Malfoy, but you can't blame the Prince, he hadn't written 'try this out, it's really good' — he was just making notes for himself, wasn't he, not for anyone else. . . ."

"Are you telling me," said Hermione, "that you're going to go back — ?"

"And get the book? Yeah, I am," said Harry forcefully. "Listen, without the Prince I'd never have won the Felix Felicis. I'd never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I'd never have —"

"You won't be going to get the book," said Elara dangerously, shooting Harry a withering glare.

"— got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don't deserve,"said Hermione nastily.

"Give it a rest, Hermione!" said Ginny, "By the sound of it, Malfoy was trying to use an Unforgivable Curse, you should be glad Harry had something good up his sleeve!"

"Well, of course I'm glad Harry wasn't cursed!" said Hermione, clearly stung. "But you can't call that Sectumsempra spell good, Ginny, look where it's landed him! And I'd have thought, seeing what this has done to your chances in the match —"

"Oh, don't start acting as though you understand Quidditch,"snapped Ginny, "you'll only embarrass yourself — "