"I believe you owe me an essay, Potter."

Professor McGonagall was holding out her hand expectantly. The rest of the class had already handed in their two rolls of parchment on the different ways cross-species Transfigurations could go wrong. Harry swallowed.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I haven't got it finished yet."

Harry stared straight ahead of him, ignoring the others' reactions. He was sure Hermione was looking at him disapprovingly, and that Ron wore a surprised expression, while Professor McGonagall's mouth had formed a very thin line.

"I see," said the professor. "You realise I'll be obliged to deduct marks. I expect it first thing tomorrow morning, or I'll have to dock you even more. I must say, I'm dreadfully disappointed. First a Gryffindor prefect earns himself a detention…" Here she looked pointedly at Neville. "… and now this. This is no time to begin slacking off in your studies. The NEWTs…"

Harry tuned her out, remembering the scene in his dormitory last night. After apologising to Colin, Harry had spent the rest of the previous evening tearing his dormitory apart looking for the Dr Zog book, and that was the reason he hadn't had time to finish his essay. He'd decided that he'd rather face McGonagall than risk the embarrassment of having that book turn up at the wrong time again. But he hadn't managed to find it anywhere, and he was dreading having it appear in his bag in the middle of class. He wouldn't put it past that book to make an appearance now, in fact, and earn him a detention… a detention like Neville.

Neville had hurried into the dormitory, red-faced, in the middle of Harry's search. He'd barely even noticed the chaos Harry had created. Neville hadn't spoken to Harry; he hadn't even looked in Harry's direction. He'd simply gone to bed as quickly as possible.

Harry wondered what Neville, who had become such a stickler for the rules, could possibly have done to earn himself a detention. Ever since the Butterbeer incident at the beginning of the previous term when he'd come so close to being stripped of his prefect's badge, he'd been scrupulously careful to avoid trouble.

At the end of Transfiguration, Harry tried to catch Neville's eye, but he noticed immediately that Neville refused to look in Harry's direction. All the way down to Care of Magical Creatures, Harry got the definite impression that Neville was avoiding him.

The Slytherins were already assembled in front of Hagrid's old cabin, where a thin wisp of smoke could be seen rising from the chimney, when the Gryffindors arrived.

"Hey, lover boy," said Malfoy loudly enough for all to hear, "I heard you had a hot date last night." The other Slytherins sniggered while Neville turned red and stared at the ground. "Nice way to impress a girl, bringing an instruction manual!"

Harry looked sharply at Neville. Could he have taken the Dr Zog book? But it had been locked up in Harry's trunk. A feeling of anger rose in him. If Neville had taken it upon himself to go through Harry's things without asking, then he deserved the nastiest detention possible. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Professor Grubbly-Plank came bustling from behind the cabin.

"Settle down now," she said. "We'll be getting started."

Harry would have to wait until after class to get this sorted out. At the end of Care of Magical Creatures class--during which the seventh years had been assigned a huge essay on Jabberknolls--Neville took off like a shot towards the castle. Harry was sure he wanted to avoid more taunting from the Slytherins, and no doubt he wanted to avoid Harry as well.

"Neville!" called Harry, running to catch him up. "Neville!"

Harry had to finally grab Neville's arm to make him stop. They were at the base of the steps that led up to the front door of the castle. Harry pulled Neville aside to let the others pass, calling to Ron and Hermione that he'd be along shortly.

"Going to give him some pointers on impressing girls, Potter?" drawled Malfoy as the Slytherins filed past. "Some dos and don'ts? You know Longbottom must be really desperate if he's willing to take advice from Potter."

Harry ignored Malfoy and waited until everyone else had gone in to lunch. Neville still refused to look at him. "Neville," Harry began, "do you know why I didn't have time to finish my Transfiguration essay?"

Neville shook his head.

"Colin asked me if he could borrow a certain book from me. I'm sure you know the one I'm talking about."

Neville was nodding, looking doggedly out over the lake, his face growing steadily redder.

"When I went to my trunk to get it, it wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Neville looked as if he was about to start crying. "It's all my fault," he said at last. "I, uh, borrowed it."

"You mean you went into my trunk, and…"

Neville cringed at the sharpness of Harry's tone. "No!" he said quickly, looking at Harry for the first time today. "It was lying out again, I swear it was! I've learned my lesson about unauthorised searches, believe me!"

Harry let out a breath. "All right. It's okay. I know that book has a way of turning up. Do you think I could have it back?"

Neville went even redder, and his eyes went bright with tears. He swallowed hard before whispering, "No."

"What do you mean, no?"

Neville looked back towards the lake and made a great effort to master himself before explaining. "It was lying out last night, and, well, I'd finally worked up the nerve to ask Lisa--Turpin, you know, from Ravenclaw--to meet me, and I still don't believe it, but she agreed. So when I saw the book out, I reckoned I'd get a little last-minute advice. And, well, you know I tend to forget things. So I thought it might be a good idea to take it with me, just in case."

Neville paused, and Harry was tempted to ask Neville if he thought he was just going to stop mid-snog and consult the book. When Neville continued his story, his voice had dropped to almost a whisper, and Harry had to strain to hear him. "Things were actually working out quite a bit better than expected, but then Filch turned up. He gave both Lisa and me detention, and he confiscated the book."

Harry sighed heavily.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Neville said in a very small voice, which made Harry feel a bit uncomfortable.

"It's all right, Neville. Really. I think it's almost a relief to be rid of it, actually. You know it likes to play tricks. The way it did to me in Charms class that time. I hadn't even meant to put it in my bag, and yet it was there. I'm sure it thought it was a very funny joke to get you into trouble."

Neville still looked quite unhappy, and Harry cast about for something else he could say to cheer Neville up. "You know, Neville, the more I think about it, the more I think that book can sense people who need advice. That's why it let you find it last night." Harry didn't mention that it had decided to turn up in his bag while he and Ginny weren't speaking. "Maybe it decided Filch could use a little advice too."

Neville started to smile a bit. "Can you imagine?"

"I'm not too sure I want to dwell on it, actually. Come on, we've got Trelawney all afternoon. Better get some sustenance."

During Divination much later, while Professor Trelawney was demonstrating how to read the bumps on someone's head, using an unhappy-looking Seamus as an example, Harry filled Ron in on the Dr Zog situation.

"What are we going to do?" whispered Ron. "You're not thinking of raiding Filch's office for it, are you?"

Harry shrugged. "We haven't got time to do something like that these days. Not that I particularly want to…"

Harry had to stop there, because Professor Trelawney was having the class pair off to practise on each other. Harry immediately turned to Ron because he definitely didn't like the way Parvati was looking at him.

"Ron," he said between gritted teeth and pointing with his head towards Parvati. "Do something."

"Like what?"

"Like what we always do. Make something up, something to get rid of Parvati."

"Oh, right…" Ron gave a great flourish with his hands before placing them on Harry's head. "Let's see now, yes…" He said, feigning concentration. "Yes," he said again more loudly, "I see a very bright future ahead of you. As long as you don't do anything to make my sister mad at you, that is. In that case, you may just die a slow, painful death."

Parvati looked away unhappily. "Thanks, Ron."

"Anytime. It was only the truth, you know… So what do we do about that book?"

"Nothing we can do that I can see. Best to wait until June and ask for it back then, I think."

"Something to look forward to," replied Ron sarcastically.

"We can always hope it finds its way back on its own," Harry suggested. "You never know."

Harry bolted his supper that evening and hurried back to the common room to finish his Transfiguration essay. He didn't want to waste any more time on it than necessary, since he had his other assignments to keep up with. He also hoped that if he finished it and tracked down Professor McGonagall tonight she might deduct fewer points from his mark.

He finished at almost half past eight and got up from the table at which he'd been working. Ginny, who had joined him when she'd come up from supper, looked up from her books. "You're not finished already…"

"This is the essay I was supposed to finish last night. Maybe McGonagall will go easy on me if I hand it in now, rather than wait until tomorrow."

"I wouldn't count on it, but I don't suppose it could hurt."

"I'll be back in a few minutes. Do you think she'll be in the staff room?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Harry made his way down to the staff room. The door was ajar, but he knocked anyway, startling Professor Grubbly-Plank, who was alone in the room. "My goodness," she said, clutching her chest. "You gave me a fright, Potter."

"Sorry, you wouldn't have seen Professor McGonagall, would you?"

"You might try her office."

"Thank you."

As he made his way back up the marble staircase, Harry wondered what the Care of Magical Creatures teacher had been doing there by herself. She hadn't been reading or marking papers; she hadn't been doing anything really. Harry found that rather strange.

He found Professor McGonagall in her office and handed in his essay. Upon leaving, he wondered what he'd find if he went back down to the staff room. Instead of heading back to Gryffindor Tower, he turned back to the marble staircase. He was half way down, when…

"Potter, what are you doing out of bounds?" Professor Snape was at the base of the stairs.

"Looking for Professor McGonagall," Harry lied.

Snape did not look convinced. "Have you tried her office?"

"Thought I'd try the staff room."

"She won't be in there," Snape said with enough finality that Harry knew better than to press his luck.

He turned back towards Gryffindor Tower, wondering what was going on. Snape seemed very certain that Professor McGonagall was not in the staff room, and yet he hadn't been there a few minutes earlier. Was he meeting with Professor Grubbly-Plank for some reason? That might be enough to explain her nervousness, Harry supposed, as he came to the portrait hole.

Harry returned to his table to find Ginny and Hermione with their heads together.

"I think I've got something here," Ginny was saying. "Look."

Hermione was studying the parchment, her lips pressed together and her brow furrowed. "Hmm, yes, it looks like it, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, it's a bit disappointing, isn't it? Professor Vector made such a fuss over this, and it looks like someone's shopping list."

Harry sat down at the table, laughing. "All that work, and you've ended up with a shopping list?"

"It doesn't make any sense, does it?" said Hermione. "You'd think someone would have worked out this much by now, and they'd know it wasn't anything special, after all."

"This isn't necessarily the right translation," Ginny pointed out.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"This particular alphabet is so difficult because the letters don't always represent the same sounds. You have to work out what each one stands for. It's like a code."

"Well, what good is that?" asked Harry. "How would anyone know what anyone was talking about using a system like that?"

"There came to be a standard value for each letter, but you have a point. It's one of the reasons this script fell out of use. But it would come in handy if you don't want others to know what you're talking about."

"Well, why would anyone want to put their shopping list into a secret code?"

"That's why it doesn't make sense," said Hermione.

"I had to try several different systems just to get that far," said Ginny. "The standard values for the letters came out as absolute gibberish. So did some of the other ways I tried. I guess I just need to keep at it."

"I suppose we're finding out why no one's ever worked out what it really means," Hermione said. "They got as far as the shopping list and gave up."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked Ginny.

Ginny shrugged. "It's sort of fun. Like a challenge. And I was already familiar with this script." She looked about and lowered her voice. "The text with the instructions for making the talisman was written in it."

Harry gaped, thinking of the effort she had gone to just to work out how to create his necklace. "But… But that must have taken forever to work out."

"Not really. That text was standard, while this one is not. Anyway," Ginny went on, "it gives me something to do while you're ploughing through your homework."

That statement came out in an off-handed manner, but Harry was touched. She didn't have to sit here with him every night, girlfriend or no. He wouldn't have begrudged her doing something more entertaining with her evenings.

Their gazes were locked, and Ginny's eyes flashed at him, the spark passing through his body like an electric current. He hadn't had the opportunity to kiss her, beyond a quick peck goodnight, since they'd been locked up together, and he found himself wishing they were somewhere more private.

The sound of someone clearing her throat snapped him back to attention. He glanced at Hermione, his face heating. She was suppressing a smile.

"Do you want me to have another go at it?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"You haven't got time for this, Hermione. You've got loads more homework than I have."

"I can put it off for tonight… Just tonight," she added quickly before Harry could say anything about slacking off. "This could turn out to be important, you know. On a larger scale."

"What makes you think that?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. It's a feeling I have. Don't tell Lavender or Parvati, but it's like a premonition..."

Harry burst out laughing. "You? Putting stock in premonitions? Where's Ron? He's missing a good one!"

"When they're my premonitions," Hermione snapped, "yes, I set stock in them! Besides, logically, there just has to be another meaning. Professor Vector said no one had been able to work it out yet, but I'm sure someone must have already got this far with it. So it means that no one believes it's really a shopping list."

"Where is Ron?" Ginny asked. "I haven't seen him all evening."

"He told me he had a letter to send home," said Hermione. "He must've gone up to the Owlery to send it off. He ought to be back by now, though."

"Depends on how co-operative Pig's being," commented Harry. "He should be along soon."

He turned to his homework with a sigh. He would have loved to be able to take the evening off, but he was behind now, as a result of spending a good part of the previous evening looking for his book. And with the extra assignments that had been added today, he reckoned he might still be here next summer. He had Potions tomorrow, so he'd better make sure he had that work finished. Snape would be all too happy to take points from Gryffindor and give him a detention if he turned up in class with his assignments incomplete.

On top of that, he had Defence Against the Dark Arts in the afternoon, he thought glumly. With a morning in the dungeons in Snape's and Malfoy's company to look forward to, followed by Mundungus Fletcher in the afternoon, Wednesday was definitely the worst day of the week.

It wasn't long before Ron came stomping through the portrait hole, clearly in a bad mood. Hermione looked up from the runes and, undaunted by Ron's demeanour, said, "Where have you been? Have you got your Potions homework finished?"

"I told you I had a letter to send. Stupid feathery git wouldn't sit still long enough for me to tie the letter to his leg." He leaned over and looked at what Hermione was doing. Harry heard him grumble something about being mental to sit and work out anything that looked like that.

Hermione ignored him, so he tried again. "You're not working on Potions, either."

"Of course not, I've finished. It still took you longer than it ought to mail a letter."

"I ran into Filch."

Harry looked sharply at Ron. The only way for him to run into Filch was if he'd done something on purpose to attract the surly caretaker's attention. Going to the Owlery was a perfectly legitimate activity, not something that should get Ron into trouble.

Hermione must have been thinking along the same lines, for she asked, "How on earth did you manage that?"

"No idea."

But Harry wasn't convinced Ron was telling the truth.

"Stupid git was all for giving me a detention, too," Ron grumbled. "He had me dragged down to his office and was about to write me up."

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione said, "you must have given him a reason."

Ron shrugged. "I may have knocked over a suit of armour on my way back here. It was purely by accident, of course. No reason I should get a detention for it."

Now Harry was sure he was lying. Ron had almost certainly knocked over the suit of armour on purpose as an excuse to get hauled into Filch's office. Once there, he could have looked for Harry's book. Harry wanted to ask if Ron had seen it, but he couldn't do that in front of Ginny and Hermione.

"You said you almost got detention," commented Harry. "How did you manage to get out of it?" He knew from personal experience that once a student had been taken into Filch's office, it would take something very drastic indeed to save the unfortunate student from detention.

"Well, that was the weird part," said Ron. "Professor Flitwick happened along and talked Filch out of it."

"What was Professor Flitwick doing down in the dungeons near Filch's office of all places?" asked Ginny.

"No idea," said Ron. "That's what was weird. I'm not complaining, though. I'm pretty sure he was getting ready to send me into the Forbidden Forest." He shuddered visibly.

Harry turned back to his homework. He wasn't getting anything accomplished at this rate. He made a mental note to thank Ron later, when the girls weren't about to ask questions.

He climbed the stairs to his dormitory, the last of the seventh-year boys. Before changing into his pyjamas, he decided he was thirsty and went over to the window to serve himself a glass of water from the silver jug that stood there. It was a very dark night, and so the glimmer of light he saw down in the grounds immediately attracted his attention. He clambered up onto the window-sill and caught his breath when he realised the light was coming from Hagrid's cabin. It had a flickering quality to it, as if it was caused by a fire.

Suddenly he remembered arriving at Care of Magical Creatures class this morning. There had been smoke wafting up from the chimney then, too. His heart pounded as the implications began to sink in. Something wasn't right about this. They were studying Jabberknolls in class at the moment, and Jabberknolls were native to Northern Europe. There shouldn't be any particular reason to keep them warm, since they should be adapted to the climate, especially now with spring approaching.

Harry had another sudden vision of the day of Charlie's memorial, when he'd escaped to the cabin with Sirius. There had been ashes in the fireplace then, too, although he'd assumed that any fire had been built for the benefit of the tropical birds they'd been studying at the time. Now he wondered why they'd even been studying tropical creatures in the dead of winter, when it would have been more practical to consider animals who were used to the cold. Had the Fwoopers and Diricawls been brought in as an excuse to explain the fire in the hut, in case anyone should ask? Was the fire really being used as a means of communication?

Harry now thought of the way in which Professor Grubbly-Plank had turned up at the hut. How strange that she should leave the memorial early to come down there, when there had been no creatures for her to check on. Had she taken advantage of the crowd to sneak away and pass on a message to Lucius Malfoy?

It now seemed very likely. He thought of her nervous reaction to him tonight in the staff room. No wonder she'd been so jumpy about meeting Snape--for Harry was now sure that was why he'd seen the Potions master lurking about. Was Snape on to the identity of the spy?

Then Harry had an even worse idea, one that made his blood run cold. He wondered if Professor Grubbly-Plank was aware of how Professor Snape had passed the autumn term, and if she'd passed this information on to the Dark Lord's supporters.

Harry thought of waking Ron and telling him this bit of news, but then he decided against it. He'd tell Ron and Hermione together. Hermione would be somewhat happy about this development at any rate, because it seemed to take some of the suspicion away from Viktor Krum.

Professor Grubbly-Plank had always seemed like a decent old lady, if a bit gruff at times, like someone's maiden aunt. There was nothing about her manner to indicate she might be a Death Eater. But then Harry had been wrong in the past when he'd judged based on appearance alone. He realised now that it was likely that this elderly woman had erased Ginny's memory and perhaps even lured her to her capture.

Anger rose hot within him, and he had to fight the urge to run straight off to Hagrid's cabin and burst in upon her. No, he had no proof that she had done those things. It may have been someone else. If Snape had met her, that must mean that he, and consequently Dumbledore, were on to her game. He could trust them to deal with her properly.

He considered having a talk with Snape, but he wasn't sure about how to go about setting it up. Unless he managed to earn himself a detention like Ron had. Should he do it? It would mean another evening lost and he'd be further behind in his schoolwork than ever.

"Sod homework," he said to himself. "This is more important."

*

"Harry, honestly!" Hermione reprimanded. "What did you think you were doing, adding that much dragon's blood to your Scouring Solution?"

The result had been rather spectacular, causing flames to shoot up to the ceiling before his cauldron had melted. And he'd earned the desired detention.

Harry looked at Hermione with what he hoped was a sheepish expression and shrugged.

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" observed Ron shrewdly.

"Of course, he didn't! Who in their right mind would melt their cauldron on purpose? Especially in Snape's class!"

"Come on, Harry, spill it," said Ron. "Why'd you do it?"

Harry looked around to make sure no one could overhear him before replying. "What gave me away?"

Hermione let out a tutting sound while Ron snorted. "Come on, even Neville got through that class without disaster striking, and you go and melt your cauldron… Something's up with that."

"I needed an excuse to talk to Snape."

"Why?" asked Ron and Hermione together.

"Long story, but I found out something last night, and I need to ask him about it. If we hurry through lunch, we might have time to talk. Ginny ought to hear this, too. It concerns her."

They met up with Ginny in the Entrance Hall, as she came down from Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry took her hand and whispered, "Eat quickly, we're going to meet in the storage room after lunch."

She grinned evilly. "Been missing me?"

"Yeah, that too, but I have something important to tell you."

She squeezed his hand. "All right."

The four of them shovelled down helpings of chicken pie before heading up to the fourth floor, where Harry filled them in on the conclusions he'd drawn about Professor Grubbly-Plank.

There was a stunned silence, which was broken when Hermione exclaimed, "But this means that maybe Viktor Krum wasn't the spy!"

"What did Dumbledore sack him for then?" asked Ron.

"He may have done that in order to catch the real spy," Hermione speculated.

"What do you mean?"

"He may have wanted to make it look as if he'd caught someone hoping the real spy would let their guard down and do something to slip up. Get too confident."

"That still doesn't change what Krum did to Ginny."

Hermione looked unhappy, but there was no denying that Ron had a point. But then Harry remembered something. "Maybe Krum wasn't acting of his own free will."

Ginny looked up sharply. Harry reckoned she still wasn't comfortable with the topic they were discussing. Krum had, after all, looked into her heart without her consent. It was a form of violation.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked warily.

"Krum is susceptible to the Imperius Curse."

"How do you know that?"

Harry didn't like to talk about what had happened the night of the third task. The full story was known only to a few people who'd heard it on the same evening and in the days that followed. "I found out the night the Triwizard Tournament ended. We were in the maze, and Krum used the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric." He had to pause and swallow here. "I broke through the hedge and stunned him. Later I found out he'd been under the Imperius Curse at the time."

Ginny was studying her hands by the time he'd finished. "Oh."

"What good is a Defence Against the Dark Arts professor who can't even resist Imperius?" scoffed Ron.

"Not a lot of people can, you know," snapped Hermione. "In fact, it wouldn't surprise me to learn that Viktor resigned on his own, as a matter of honour."

"And then Dumbledore went along with it to catch the real spy?" supplied Harry.

Hermione nodded. "It would make sense."

Ron didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue. "So now you've landed yourself in detention…" he prompted.

"Yeah, I want to see if I can get anything out of Snape. See if he suspects the right people."

"People?" asked Ginny.

"Malfoy's still a liability. I want to see what Snape knows about him."

"But I thought…" Hermione began.

"I told Malfoy I wouldn't go to Dumbledore. I didn't promise anything about Snape. Besides," Harry continued quickly when Hermione looked ready to protest some more, "Snape's another story. He's got the Dark Mark himself."

"He does?" exclaimed Ginny, reminding Harry once more how she'd never been in on the secrets he'd shared with Ron and Hermione in the past.

"Something else I found out fourth year. If anyone can understand Malfoy's position, it'll be Snape."

"Are you saying he was coerced into becoming a Death Eater the way Malfoy was?"

"I don't know what the circumstances were when Snape became a Death Eater. All I know is, he didn't remain loyal for some reason. But I think he's the best person to understand what Malfoy's going through. Who knows? Maybe he can give Malfoy a push in the right direction."

The bell signalling the start of afternoon classes rang at that point, cutting off any further discussion of the matter.

*

Harry worked furiously over the following two evenings to make up for the time he knew he was going to lose on Friday, when his detention was scheduled. Luckily no one was enforcing curfew these days, as Neville was working just as hard as all the other seventh years to keep up with his studies. Hermione was putting out twice the effort as anyone else between her class work and her rune project.

The Gryffindors had Charms last thing on Friday and had finally got a break when Professor Flitwick didn't set them any homework. Harry went straight back to the common room at the end of classes taking advantage of the time that remained before supper to finish his Jabberknoll essay.

Whatever Harry though Snape might suspect about Professor Grubbly-Plank, she hadn't been sacked yet, as Harry discovered during Care of Magical Creatures earlier. He'd exchanged confused looks with Ron and Hermione, privately wondering if he'd jumped to the wrong conclusion the other evening. He hoped to find out what was going on soon enough.

Taking out his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, he noticed a book that had most definitely not been in his bag earlier.

"What the…" He wanted to laugh out loud. "How on earth did you ever manage to escape Filch?" he asked incredulously, not expecting a reply.

"All the homework finally driven you around the bend?" came Ron's voice from behind him. "Talking to your books now?"

Harry glanced around and saw that the girls were nowhere in evidence. "Look, Ron," he said, motioning his friend over.

"Where did that come from?"

"It just now turned up in my bag!"

"Well, blow me down!"

Harry noticed that a piece of parchment had been stuck between the pages. "There's a note." Pulling it out, Harry unfolded it and held it so that Ron could read it too:

Ron's eyes had gone round. "Does that mean what I think it does?"

"What do you think it means?" asked Harry, not quite sure what Ron was on about.

"I don't know, but…" Ron pointed to Professor Flitwick's middle initial. "…it looks to me like Professor Flitwick could be Dr Zog."

Credit for the idea of an alphabet whose letters don't always stand for the same sounds goes to J. R. R. Tolkien. At least that's the way I've always interpreted the explanation of the Tengwar… I never did understand what all he was on about with that. (See Appendix E to the Lord of the Rings if you really want to know.)