[CHAPTER 20]

THE SEER OVERHEARD

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THE FACT THAT HARRY POTTER was going out with Emily Poole seemed to interest a great number of people, most of them girls, yet Emily found herself newly and happily impervious to gossip over the next month.

"You must be pleased that for once people are talking about you because of a good thing, rather than because you've been involved in horrific scenes of Dark Magic,"

"Kate!" Emily exclaimed at her best friend, and she shrugged innocently as she scribbled on her parchment. They were all sat in the Gryffindor common room, Emily having let Kate in so they could work on the project McGonagall had assigned them. Outside, the rain made soft ticking noises against the window.

"I don't mean anything by it!" she denied, and Emily narrowed her eyes at her. Harry gave a chuckle, putting his hand on Emily's shoulder, who was sat on the common room floor, leaning against Harry's legs and reading the Daily Prophet.

"You're right Kate, I'm pretty pleased for once it isn't something bad," he said.

Kate gave Emily an I-told-you-so look.

"Well, you'd think people had better things to gossip about," said Emily, smoothing out the prophet, "Three dementor attacks in a week, and all Romilda Vane does is ask me if it's true you've got a hippogriff tattooed across your chest."

Across from them, Ron choked on his tea, exploding into a fit of coughs, while Hermione roared with laughter.

"What did you tell her?" Harry asked her, and Emily turned a page of the newspaper idly.

"I told her it's a Hungarian Horntail, it's much more macho." she said inocently.

"Thanks," said Harry, grinning.

"Hmm," said Kate, "Last I saw Romilda Vane, she was telling a group of third years in the bathroom on the third floor that you were a horrible kisser,"

"Me?" Emily asked, giving a stunned chuckle.

"I've heard that too, you know," Hermione said, and now Emily looked entirely disbelieving.

"That's rubbish," she sputtered, and Harry smirked.

"I don't know, Em..." he joked, and she gave him a punch to the shin.

"Ouch!" he yelled, "What was that for?"

"Take that back!" she accused, and he broke into a laugh.

"Don't believe a word they say, Em," said Ginny from an armchair to their left, flipping through the pages of her Charms text book, "I happen to know first-hand you're an excellent kisser,"

Now it was Harry's turned to look stunned, and Emily smiled when Ginny looked up and gave her a cheeky wink.

"I'm sorry?" Ron asked, gobsmacked, turning to Emily, "When exactly did you kiss my sister?"

"That's none of your business," Emily said defensively.

"No...actually I'd like to know too," Harry piped up, and Ginny snorted.

"Don't get your wand in a knot Harry, I'm not moving in on your girlfriend," she said, and Harry raised an eyebrow.

"No?" he asked sarcastically, and Emily rolled her eyes.

"It was before you and I were together," she said simply.

"Emily," Kate said severely, "I came up here to work, and as much as I'm enjoying this conversation about your burgeoening bisexuality, I'd rather not get detention from McGonagall for not handing in a project that's due tomorrow,"

Emily gave an exasperated sigh. "I've finished my part!"

"Yes, but I haven't, and it's called a group project for a reason," Kate said, and Emily groaned.

"Emily Poole, glorified essay writer," she said, pushing herself up from the floor.

"Tiny violins are playing your misery," Kate said sarcastically as she too stood up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, sounding somewhat disappointed.

"Don't worry, I'm only taking her to the library, lover boy," Kate mocked, and Harry turned scarlet.

"I was just asking," he muttered, as he sunk a little lower into the armchair.

Emily leaned down and kissed him quickly. "I'll see you later," she assured him, and he smiled, still looking somewhat miffed, as Ron made a retching sound in the background.

As Emily and Kate climbed through the portrait hole, Emily vaguely heard Ron start to interrogate Ginny.

"Kissing girls, now are we?" his voice abruptly disappeared when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung shut.

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Kate and Emily spent the next two hours of the afternoon working in the library, and Emily was just trudging back towards the common room past the seventh floor when she heard a shriek and a crash.

"How — dare — you — aaaaargh!"

The noise was coming from a corridor nearby; Emily sprinted toward it, her wand at the ready, hurtled around another corner, and saw Professor Trelawney sprawled upon the floor, her head covered in one of her many shawls, several sherry bottles lying beside her, one broken.

"Professor —?" Emily asked, rushing forward and helping her to her feet. Some of her glittering beads had become entangled with her glasses. She hiccuped loudly, patted her hair, and pulled herself up.

"Are you alright? What happened, Professor?"

"You may well ask!" she said shrilly, "I was strolling along, brooding upon certain dark portents I happen to have glimpsed . . ."

But Emily was not paying much attention. She had just noticed where they were standing: There on the right was the tapestry of dancing trolls, and on the left, that smoothly impenetrable stretch of stone wall that concealed—

"Professor, were you trying to get into the Room of Requirement?" Emily asked her, and Trelawny halted in her tirade

"I– what?" She looked suddenly shifty. "I — well — I didn't know students knew about —"

"What happened? You screamed. . . . It sounded as though you were hurt. . . .", Emily said, feigning concern.

"I — well," said Professor Trelawney, drawing her shawls around her defensively and staring down at her with her vastly magnified eyes. "I wished to — ah — deposit certain — um — personal items in the room. . . .", and she muttered something about "nasty accusations."

Emily glanced at the sherry bottles. "And, well, when I got in, there was somebody already in there."

"Somebody in — ? Who?" demanded Emily, urgency in her voice, "Who was in there?"

"How would I know?" Professor Trelawney sniffed haughtily, "All I heard was a sort of cheer and then I was unceremoniously shoved out!"

"A cheer? The voice...was it male of female?" Emily asked, and the gears in her head turned as her heart started to beat faster inside her chest.

"Er...I would hazard a guess at male," Trelawney said, and Emily's stomach sank.

Draco.

He had mentioned the Room of Requirement only once in their conversations, but Emily had a keen memory.

He's done it. A task he can't refuse.

"Excuse me," Emily said, before turning around and practically sprinting down the corridor.

"Ms Poole!" Trelawney called after her, but Emily was no longer listening. The blood was rushing in her ears so loudly she could barely hear herself think. She had to find Dumbledore, she had to tell him what was about to happen. 

Emily was so wrapped up in her thoughts she barely registered somebody turning the corner, and she walked straight into them. There was clatter of books as her head thumped painfully into somebody's chest.

"Ouch!" cried a voice, "Watch where you're goi– Em?"

"Harry," she said in an elated breath, looking up to see him setting his glasses straight on his nose.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing the panic on her face, and Emily had to catch her breath.

"Draco," she said, taking another gulp of air, "He's done it,"

"Done what?" Harry asked sharply, putting his hands on her arms to steady her.

"Something he was assigned," she said, panting, "You were right, he's been given a task,"

Harry face changed in an instant, and Emily could see the different emotions in his eyes. Betrayal, anger, panic.

"What do you know?" he asked her, and she shook her head, trying to steady her breathing.

"Not much, but I have to talk to Dumbledore, I have to warn him..."

"I know,"

They raced to the headmaster's office at full pelt, rounding the corner and facing the gargoyle.

Harry practically shouted the password at the gargoyle and ran up the moving spiral staircase three steps at a time, Emily's hand firm in his so that it felt as though he were pulling her shoulder out of its socket. He had already flung open the door to the study by the time she had levelled with him, wincing as her shoulder ached.

Dumbledore looked up at the two teenagers, eyes sliding from Harry, to Emily, then back to Harry.

"Ms. Poole, I wasn't aware you were joining us tonight," he said, and Emily frowned.

"Joining yo–?"

"She's not," Harry said shortly.

"Ae you going somewhere?" Emily asked him, but Harry didn't look at her.

"You've found one?" he asked Dumbledore, and Emily could feel herself getting annoyed.

"I believe so." The elderly man replied, and Harry was silent for a minute.

"I'm not following..." Emily muttered, and once more she was ignored.

"It is natural to be afraid," said Dumbledore to Harry, who's shoulders immediately squared defensively.

"I'm not scared!" said Harry at once, and it was perfectly true; fear was one emotion he was not feeling at all.

"Found what?" Emily snapped, and finally Harry turned to her, rather impatiently.

"Do you know what a horcrux is?" he asked her, and Emily was taken aback by his forceful tone.

"I...yes, found a book about them in Grimmauld Place–...Harry, why are you asking me this?"

"We think we've found one," he said, and Emily frowned.

"Found who's– Oh," Emily stopped dead in her sentence, the realization hitting her, "Oh,"

Of course he was talking about You-Know-Who. Eily didn't know any other wizard dark and twisted enough to make horcruxes, to kill so many people for his own survival. 

"Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by that promise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous." Dumbledre addressed Harry again.

"I'm coming," said Harry, almost before Dumbledore had finished speaking.

"You're what?" Emily asked, her mouth opening, "But you can't go! Draco...he–"

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked her quietly.

"Whatever he's been planning, it's happening tonight, I'm sure of it, you simply can't–"

"I'm afraid we must," Dumbledore said.

"Then I'll come wih you!" Emily said fiercely, and Dumbledore gave her a stern look.

"I promised your parents I would look out for you, Emily Poole, and I do not intend to break that promise," he said severely, and it was the first and only time Emily had ever heard him raise his voice.

Emily bristled as she turned to Harry.

"Don't go," she pleaded with him, but he avoided her gaze.

"Em..." he trailed off, and she could already see that he had made up his mind.

Emily wanted to scream. They knew something was about to happen, surely Dumbledore realized the danger he was putting his students in by leaving. 

"So that's it?" she said, her voice calm yet very dangerously uncontrolled, "You're leaving the school tonight, and I'll bet you haven't even considered that Snape and Malfoy might decide to —"

"To what?" asked Dumbledore, his eyebrows raised. "What is it that you suspect them of doing, precisely?"

"I . . . they're up to something!" said Emily, and her hands curled into fists as he said it, "He told me, he talked to me–"

"Enough," said Dumbledore. He said it quite calmly, and yet Emily fell silent at once.

"I have not left the school unprotected tonight. Please do not suggest that I do not take the safety of my students seriously, Emily."

"You're leaving! How could you even—" Emily started, her voice raised, but Dumbledore cut across her.

"I do not wish to discuss the matter any further."

Emily looked at him, eyes full of furious anger. How could he? He knew, and still he was going.

"Harry, I wish you to go and fetch your Invisibility Cloak and meet me in the entrance hall in five minutes' time." Dumbledore turned back to look out of the fiery window. Harry went to pull Emily along, but she ripped her hand from his grip. "Ms Poole and I will have a word,"

When Harry, albeit hesitantly, had left the room, Dumbledore looked at Emily.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said, her voice trembling, and he sighed.

"I told you something, at the beginning of this year, do you remember it?"

"Yes," she replied. 

How could she have forgotten?

"You are a vital part of his story, Emily," he said quietly, "But, when the time comes, you must allow events to run their course,"

"I would like to ask one last thing of you, Emily," he said, and she nodded, "Severus Snape is not your enemy, no matter how it may look. Harry is too blinded by hatred to accept it, but he can be trusted,"

Emily had never really known Snape as anything less than the bitter Potions Master, and she found this an odd request. Still, she didn't question it. She was silent, and Dumbledore let out a sigh, gazing out of the window, the sun now a ruby red glare along the horizon.

"I'm afraid I will be breaking my promise to your parents soon," he said sadly, and Emily's stomach began to sink as she realized what he was saying.

She took a step closer to the headmaster, feeling the anguish building up in her stomach and the tears welling behind her eyes.

"You can't leave," she said, voice trembling with emotions, and his eyes met hers. 

When the words left her mouth, it was clear she no longer meant tonight. Her words were heavy with meaning, with betrayal and with grief and with admiration as she realized this would probably be the last time she addressed him.

His blue eyes were filled with sorrow, and Emily missed the usual sparkle they held as he looked straight at her, his gaze seemingly piercing her soul. 

Even now, in imminent death, Albus Dumbledore looked powerful and serene.

"I truly am sorry," he said, and Emily's heart felt as though it was being enclosed by a cold, hard fist.

"It'll destroy him," she said, and he gave an imperceptible nod.

"Yes," he said simply, "But I trust that you will be there to pick up the pieces,"

They stared at each other for a moment, before Dumbledore picked up a large, black travelling cloak and slipped it on.

"Goodbye, Emily," he said with a last smile, before he swept past her and was gone in an instant.

The minute his cloak had dissapeared through the door, the silence weighed down on Emily like a ton of bricks, and the tears fell down her face. She wanted to curl up and cry, to go after him and yell, to stop what was going to happen, but a part of her knew it was no use. Her mind drifted to Harry, and to what Dumbledore had told her.

Harry would be devastated if he knew what was about to happen. He would try and stop it, because he was Harry. Brave, chivalrous Harry who always felt like he had to save the world. 

She left the study with a last look, and walked quickly from the office and down the spiral staircase. She reached the corner of Gryffindor tower as Harry stepped through the portrait hole. 

Emily opened her mouth to speak to him. She wanted desperately to stop him, to plead with him not to go, but Dumbledore's words rang inside her head.

"You know  what's happening, Em. You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., I've asked Hermione to use the Galleons­—"

"Harry—" began Emily.

"I haven't got time to argue," said Harry, and he pressed a tiny vial into her hand, "Take it,"

Emily saw what it was, and shook her head furiously, taking his hand.

"I can't, you'll need it more—", she tried to argue, but he brought his hands up to cup her face, looking straight into her eyes.

"If I live, and you don't, Em, I will never forgive myself," he said, and their faces were inches from each other, "Please...I—"

He stopped himself, his voice catching in his throat, thick with sorrow.

"I know," she said softly, before leaning in to kiss him. It was short, but nevertheless heavy with emotion, and Emily poured all of her feelings into it, trying to communicate how she felt.

They seperated and Emily pulled him into a tight hug, but they only held each other for a split second.

"Be careful," she whispered, and then they had pulled apart, and he had given her hand a last squeeze and then he was gone, leaving Emily standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, holding the tiny vial tightly in her hand.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks as she stepped into the common room, where Hermione and Ron stood, talking in hurried and urgent tones.

"Emily!" Hermione exclaimed, and she took note of the girl's face, the tear tracks on her cheeks and the palor in her face, "What is it? What do we do?"

Emily took her a deep breath, and when she addressed Hermione, her face had set determinedly, her eyes had hardened and her voice was filled with a fierce determination. 

"We protect Hogwarts,"