'Nausea…' said Ron, weakly. 'Building…inside me. Must…be sick in bucket.'
'You have no taste,' said Draco, to him, coldly, and turned to Harry.
'You think I look hot, don't you?'
'There is absolutely no way for me to answer that that would not get at least one person angry at me,' said Harry diplomatically.
Draco smiled smugly. 'You fear your love for me,' he said. 'I understand.'
Harry rolled his eyes. 'I think I might need that bucket when you're done with it, Ron.'
'Break it up, you lot,' said Charlie who had come up behind them, grinning. 'Draco's going to help me feed the dragons.'
'No, Draco isn't,' said Ron firmly. 'We have to go. Now. If you want to prat around feeding dragons, Malfoy, that's fine. Just give us the Charm and we'll go without you.'
Charlie looked from Draco to Ron to Harry. He opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was he saw in Harry's expression made him shut his mouth. 'All right,' he said. 'All right. I don't know what you boys have gotten yourself mixed up in. Ron, I'm going to put a Tracking Charm on you. If you're not back in three hours, I'm going to Apparate myself to wherever you are. Is that clear?'
Ron nodded. 'Clear,' he said.
'And Ginny stays here,' added Charlie.
'She won't like that,' said Harry.
'I don't care,' said Charlie, with a faint grin. 'I'd be in enough trouble if Mum knew I was letting Ron go off to do God-knows-what with you two. Add in Ginny, and I might as well never come home again.'
I won't fall asleep. I won't.
Hermione lay on the straw in the tower room where Wormtail had left her, her hands clamped firmly over her eyes. The moment he had left the room, she had begun whispering under her breath, chanting a Wakefulness Charm she had often used while studying late into the night. Slowly, very slowly, the fog had begun to recede from her brain, the bright dancing colors behind her eyelids had vanished, and she no longer felt that she was in danger of slipping into unconsciousness. She would have liked to think that since she had conquered the sleeping spell that the love potion would no longer work either, but she had little hope that this would turn out to be true.
To keep herself from panicking, she tried to think of pleasant things, things that had once made her happy. She shut her eyes tightly, thought of her parents, of school, of Hogsmeade trips with Ron and Harry. And then, just of Harry. The happiest she'd ever been in her life had been those last two weeks with Harry at school.
More than anything in the world, she wanted to hear Harry's voice again. She pictured him in her mind, the last week of school, felt her mind pressing down on the memory as if the pressure of wanting could make it real.
Harry was smiling at her, holding her hand, tugging her down the corridor outside the Gryffindor common room. Harry, I have homework, she was protesting, laughing. Harry, you can't be using the Marauder's Map just to find unattended closets we can make out in.
Harry laughed, Why not? He consulted the Map. What about this closet? This is a great closet.
Harry, all closets are pretty much the same.
Oh, no. This one's exceptional. He picked her up and carried her into the closet, setting her down carefully and kicking the door shut behind him. Okay. Here we are. Nice closet, isn't it?
Harry…are we in here for a reason?
We've had exams all week and I feel like all I've been doing is studying and packing and other stuff I don't want to do. I've hardly seen you. I guess I just wanted to be alone with you. I don't care if we do anything else. Really. I just want to look at you.
Well, I don't stand around in broom closets just for fun.
Meaning?
Meaning you better kiss me, Harry Potter, or I'll put the Leg-Locker Hex on you and leave you here until Filch finds you.
Harry threw the Map up into the air in delight. Finally, something I want to do!
Her fingers, pressed tightly over her eyes, couldn't stop the tears from coming. Harry seemed a million miles away; everything seemed a million miles away, as if it had happened a thousand years ago, not just two weeks.
Draco had been right; they were very close by. They had been flying barely forty-five minutes (Draco back on his Firebolt, which one of Charlie's wizard friends had mended with several charms and some Spellotape) when Draco gestured to Ron and Harry that they should descend.
They found themselves standing in what had probably once been an enormous clearing, although it was now overgrown with trees. The half-ruined walls Draco had seen when he held the Charm loomed darkly over them; inside the walls, half-veiled in shadows, he had recognized the tower and the overgrown gardens that surrounded it as they had descended through the air.
It was dank, gloomy and mournful under the trees. Harry, Draco and Ron looked at each other uneasily. 'I guess we should climb over the walls,' said Harry, finally.
'We could fly over,' suggested Ron.
'Too visible,' said Draco. 'Might as well just march up to the front door.'
'What if we — ' Ron began.
He was interrupted by a sudden sound that emanated from the opposite side of the wall — a sound like music. Harry, with a jolt at his heart, first thought it must be phoenix song. It had the same ethereal sweetness, but as he listened, he realized it was higher and sweeter and more piercing still, and it seemed somehow to draw
