Chapter 36: Working in Groups

Harry stood in front of the painting of the woman, who frowned at him uncertainly.

"I have to ask," said Harry. "Did someone paint you with an iron-based paint? I would say lead, but that's hardly magnetic."

The painting shook her head, the fan moving more quickly in agitation. "I am not formed of such vulgar components. I am magic and light."

"Uh huh," said Harry. "By chance, did someone lace anything into your backing? Like magnetic strips?"

The painting flushed, glaring at his father. "Excuse me, Muggle! Your boy is asking such lewd questions about my lacing!"

Luna stepped forwards, putting a gentle hand on the portrait's shoulder. It should have looked weird, but Luna made it seem natural. "Don't worry. He doesn't know what he's talking about. However, we are puzzled as to why you're making these compasses act strangely." She held one in her hand, offering it for a closer inspection. The portrait peered closely, squinting as if she needed glasses.

"Dear me, what are these little round bugs?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry decided that was enough of that. He pestered his dad, and won a gaussmeter. He measured the magnetic field of the portrait, and it registered at about 200 gauss, or a bit stronger than your average bar magnet.

"Hmm," Harry rubbed his chin. "Just for fun, let's check the last painting."

"I was just saying that," said Dean. "Padma, do you think..."

While Dean was speaking, Harry grabbed the third painting from the table.

"Dean, Padma, get the testing supplies ready," said Harry, unrolling it. "Luna, come here, in case it starts mouthing off again."

They gave him weird looks, but did as Harry asked.

The painting showed a small girl with roses plaited through her hair, sitting with her feet dangling in an idyllic stream. The girl jumped away and stared wide eyed as the compasses started covering her trees.

The painting had no effect on the magnets or the compass, but just as they were setting up the next experiment, the lights in the room shut off.

In the dim light, Harry stared at the three paintings, arms folded. With all the portraits randomly breaking the laws of physics, it made sense that electrons just gave up trying to move in any sort of ordered fashion.

"Alright…umm…" said Harry. "I think I know what we can do. We can get an x-ray—"

"No," said his dad. "No vacuum chambers either."

"Dad, just think about—"

"No." His father shook his head. "It's time to go, son. Your mom's already got dinner in the oven."

"But-" Harry protested, then noticed for the first time the slant of the sunlight coming through the window, afternoon shifting to the red glow of evening. In the fading light, his classmates looked drained. They hadn't had a break since lunchtime.

"Fine," said Harry, turning away. "Let's go."

They packed up the supplies and set off for his home. Everyone was silent the entire way, except Luna, who was intently practicing a snapping game with her fingers. Harry kept thinking, trying to figure out if there was something he missed that might explain what happened. Perhaps the paintings were created using different methods, which could cause their effects to differ? Or maybe there was a physical component in the paintings—invisible to the naked eye—that had an unusual effect on the environment?

Harry sighed, drumming his fingers against his knee, his head starting to pound. Then again, it was entirely possible that magic was so chaotic that it could change form for absolutely no reason at all, and it would take them decades to scratch the surface as to why.

They pulled into his driveway, unpacking and bringing everything inside. Harry stopped, staring at his living room. He was sure he hadn't seen those curtains, or that rug before, and where was the coffee table's pile of books? His mother popped into the room, beaming at them. She pulled off her green apron and wrapped Harry in a hug. "Hello, dear. Make any great discoveries?"

"We discovered that magic is unpredictable and needlessly complex," said Harry, shrugging. "But that's nothing new."

She ushered everyone into the immaculate dining room, and they sat down at the table. Something in the kitchen smelled really good, reminding Harry he was hungry. His mother brought dishes to the table. "Hermione couldn't make it?" she asked.

"No," said Dean. "She had Auror duties."

"Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping to show her some old dresses of mine that might fit her."

Harry didn't say anything, but he knew his mother had been secretly trying to adopt Hermione for a few years now. If Harry actually did date her, and bring her over for holidays, his mother would be over the moon about it.

Harry froze for a second. The thought was giving him goosebumps, and they lingered as he took his seat.

"Everything's ready," his mother said with a merry flourish of her hand. She uncovered the lid for the meatloaf, already sliced and steaming, and took her place at the head of the table. "Everyone, please sit!"

Harry wasn't sure at first if his mom was trying to cheer them up, or if she actually was that excited about dinner. At any rate, she kept talking animatedly throughout the entire meal, mostly with Dean, who Harry noticed had way too much charm for his own good.

"Mrs. Verres, this gravy is amazing," Dean said. "It must be homemade, it tastes just like my mom's. May I have another slice of meatloaf?"

She practically glowed. "Why, of course, Dean! I made plenty for everyone. And if you want anything else after dinner, don't hesitate to ask. There's chocolate pie in the fridge for dessert."

His eyes went wide. "Chocolate? Don't even get me started, I'd live off it if I could. My favourite recipe is a volcano cake, and one of my biggest regrets is that I still can't make like my grandmother did."

"You like to cook? I practically have to pay Harry to walk into the kitchen." Harry glared at them, but was ignored. "Got any favourite recipes?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, cutting his meat with his fork. "I've made a little of everything, though baking is my preference. I thought I'd be a chef like my mom, before I got my Hogwarts letter."

They went on chatting, with Padma chiming in about cooking Indian meals with her family. This left the rest of the table ample time to brood. Or, well, that's what Harry was doing anyway.

It wasn't even his project, but he was tangled up in it now, and it fell on him to solve the puzzle. He knew if he thought about it long enough, a potential solution would come to him. He stared at the paintings, lying in the corner. The question was, how deep down the rabbit hole did he have to go before he noticed a pattern?

After dinner, as they ate slices of chocolate pie, Padma said to Harry's father. "I noticed you have a lot of science books in your library. We're looking for information about physics, specifically electromagnetism."

She nudged Dean, who quickly wiped his mouth. "Oh, yes, I'd been meaning to ask. Mr. Verres, do you have any suggestions on titles we should read?"

Harry's father beckoned them into library, where they pulled several books off the shelf, his father pointing out the highlights of each. "Steven Hawking has a nice little compendium of physics called the History of Time. It's entertaining to read, too, but if you're looking for something more intensive..."

Padma stood near them, listening in and choosing some books she liked. Even Luna was flipping through a biology textbook. Harry observed his classmates, a strange feeling in his chest.

You know, what they're doing is considerably more productive than your brooding.

Quite. Harry smiled ruefully and picked up his own book. As the saying goes, if you can't beat them, join them and pretend it was your idea all along.

At some hour of the early morning, Harry's internal clock woke him.

Question. Why didn't we call her last night?

Wuh? Harry's consciousness blinked away sleep. Who?

You know. Hermione. She said she wanted to know how our experiment went.

Okay, umm…first of all, she doesn't have access to a phone, and secondly—

Patronus works just as well.

SECOND of all, the Ministry won't let us cast magic outside Hogwarts, and THIRD of all, we're only going to be gone for two days. She's not expecting minute to minute updates.

Harry heard an internal sigh that sounded slightly patronizing. I still think you missed an opportunity to experiment with long distance communication. For one thing, it could be a viable alternative to face to face conversations, which are becoming increasingly difficult for you. Not to mention, it's getting painful for ME to keep watching you flounder like a dying fish whenever she looks in your general direction.

Harry tossed and turned, attempting to ignore the voice of Science.

Besides, isn't your motto Always be Prepared? How dare you sleep, you ought to be strategizing how you can best support Hermione during this busy time, so when she's free she'll be BEGGING to spend quality time with you. Think about it: a Slytherin quest, a locked room, maybe some treasure at the end if you know what I mean, heh heh.

Harry sighed. You're disgusting, and I really don't care about these quests anymore.

Well, if you don't, then she won't, and that's the problem.

What?

Silence. Harry waited, but no response. He stilled, hoping that maybe if he closed his eyes…

I'M HENRY THE EIGHTH I AM, HENRY THE EIGHTH I-

Nevermind, I'm getting up.

Harry flipped the covers off and stood from his bed. He carefully walked around Dean, who slept on the floor of his trunk. He opened the hatch that led upwards into his old bedroom, now converted into book storage. He picked his way through the book stacks and went downstairs.

Harry meant to go to the kitchen, gather a late night snack and seek refuge in a book, when he heard someone crying.

"It'll be okay," said Luna's soft voice, and Harry walked into the living room to see Luna kneeling before the unfurled painting of the little forest girl. The girl sobbed, her trembling voice pleading for something in what sounded like garbled ancient Latin. The flowers in her hair had come unbraided, and were falling into the stream before her.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry, standing awkwardly over them before kneeling beside Luna. "Why is she crying?"

"She wants to go home," said Luna, eyes still trained on the girl.

"To Hogwarts?" asked Harry.

Luna shook her head. "She doesn't know where she is, or why she's here. I think she doesn't know she's in a painting."

Harry watched the girl rambling in a language no one had spoken in centuries. "How do you know what she's saying?"

Luna shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not particularly good at languages, and I don't have much experience comforting friends. I've always been interested in art, though, so maybe I'm just…good with pictures."

For a moment, Harry felt somewhat guilty. Had the experiment upset her? She'd been so quiet, he hadn't even considered her feelings…but even so, she was a painting…

Harry went to turn on a lamp to see better, but nothing happened. He noticed the refrigerator was strangely silent too. Harry went to check the circuit breaker, and found the main power switch had been tripped. Something had overloaded it.

"Umm, Luna," he said quietly. "I hate to rush you, but…"

Luna said a few soft words to the girl, and then quietly rolled up the painting. Harry flipped the circuit breaker, and a lamp came on in the living room.

Harry couldn't say anything. He silently took a seat on the sofa, book unopened in his lap. He wondered if the little girl was still sobbing after being rolled up, or if she got some relief in sleep. He'd never once seen a painting that wasn't perfectly content with their lot in life and that…raised a lot of questions.

Luna joined him, a sketchbook in hand. She flipped it open to a new page and started drawing.

"I hope we can learn more about the paintings, so we can help them," she said.

"I…" Harry stopped. There was a lot to say about the probability of success, but now didn't seem to be the time. "I hope so too," he said. "Thanks for coming with us, Luna. You really helped us out earlier."

"Oh, it's no trouble. I'm glad I came," she said, smiling. "It's like spending time with friends."

Harry didn't really know what to say to that, so he just opened his book and started reading.

The next morning, Harry stood before the group as they gathered in their lab in Oxford.

"It's time for us to make a plan," said Harry.

"I have an idea," said Dean. "Well, me and Padma."

Harry paused a moment, then nodded. "Go ahead."

He saw the relief on Dean's face, which surprised Harry. He was scared to tell me? I really need to get better at this teamwork thing.

"Well, last night we were reading about quantum particles," said Dean. "And the books said they have a few weird properties that people still don't understand. We thought about searching for proof of the observer affect—that quantum particles behave differently when observed—but then we realized how difficult that would be to test for. Not to mention that it makes a lot more sense to think of magic as the 5th force that unites all the rest, rather than an extension of the other four forces."

"5th force?" repeated Harry slowly, wondering what crackpot physics books his father had given him to read. It was pseudoscience at best, but then again, that was before witches could transform into cats.

"Then," said Dean. "I realized something. We're experimenting on an object that doesn't fit into any prior investigations of Muggle science. We've been analysing it based on what we know about electromagnetism, but I think we should consider this phenomenon under an entirely separate set of rules. It's a complete mystery."

Padma nodded. "We need to focus on information gathering, rather than trying to prove anything."

Harry had a flashback to his first days studying magic, and he grimaced. He'd done a lot of head-banging-against-the-wall in those days, even thinking of it made his head hurt.

"So, it's not a bad idea," said Harry. "But we could experiment on these paintings in a thousand different ways, and some of those experiments are not quite so productive. What is it you want to focus on?"

Dean sighed. "Honestly, I want to know more about how these paintings—or magical objects in general- effect electronics. Best case scenario, we find some evidence that we can block it. I've already tried making a Faraday cage, though, and that didn't work."

"Well, then let's see why not," suggested Harry.

Padma's array of magical items, though small, was an accurate representation of common objects in Hogwarts. A magic wand, an enchanted quill, a moving picture of family members, and a sneakoscope. Harry's own pouch had been emptied of most of its bizarre items since Moody, but he did still carry a few basic enchanted objects.

They brought them close to the Game Boy, observing what happened. Dean had to get very, very close to see even a flicker on the screen. This was true for everything, even the sneakoscope when it was activated (To activate it, Harry had secretly put salt in his father's coffee. This earned an Unholy Glare of Death from his father when he tried to drink it later, to which Harry had stammered out, "It had to be done, for science!").

They tested the Game Boy against each painting, and found its performance varied. When all three paintings were placed side by side, however, the Game Boy would not turn on. In fact, after several minutes, even the lights in the hallway flickered. His dad's stern glare prompted him to quickly roll up the paintings.

Now that they'd established a minimum zone of interference for one painting (within six centimeters), and had found enough building materials from the theatre department, they got to work testing to see if anything could block it.

In short, nothing did. It didn't seem to matter if the painting was encased in wood or tin foil. Bring it within a few inches, and the Game Boy would shut down.

"You know what I wish?" said Padma, wiping sweat off her forehead and leaning against a wood pile. "I wish that we could transfigure a metal box, and compare it to a non-transfigured one. That would tell us something useful."

Harry stood quietly for a moment. Then, he readied his wand. "Dean, place the Game Boy on the table, will you?"

"Err…" Dean glanced at Padma. "It was just an idea. I don't think it's worth getting in trouble with the Ministry."

"Come on, think about it. We're not transfiguring anything, that would take way too long, but there is a way to test if this idea is worth pursuing." Harry's fingers tapped the table. It was so simple, why hadn't he considered it before? "We already know that the Game Boy is affected by the presence of the paintings, but we haven't checked it against different types of spells. A short burst of first year spells should tell us if it's casting magic, and not the paintings, that's causing the disturbance." He surveyed their concerned faces. "Come on, they're not going to expel me for this, and I'm fairly certain that if questioned we can come up with plausible excuses for needing to use simple charms."

Dean frowned, but kept the Game Boy clutched in his hands. Harry sighed. It wasn't that he liked breaking the rules, but he saw no problem with bending them if the need arose. Besides, he knew about the warning letters to underage magic users. It was basically a slap on the wrist, and he was willing to take it if he'd learn something important about how magic worked.

Harry tried again to persuade him, attempting to be calm and reasonable (he was going to at least try to work on his teamwork skills), when Luna reached over and grabbed the Game Boy from Dean.

"Sorry," said Luna, passing it to Harry. "But Harry's going to do this eventually, and you're all taking too long to get to the point of things."

Dean looked distressed, but he didn't try to stop her. Diffusion of responsibility, noted Harry. If someone else was willing to go the deed, then an observer was more accepting of the crime occurring. Which was a bit of a stretch, it was a misdemeanour at best.

Still, if he was being honest with himself, part of his lack of restraint was bitterness that McGonagall hadn't allowed him to take his OWLs in his second year. If he had, then he would be considered an adult according to Wizarding law, and they wouldn't be having this discussion.

Ahh, so you're actually admitting that you're acting under the reactance theory, said his brain.

Shut up, said Harry.

And cognitive dissonance, his brain added.

Ignoring himself, Harry flicked his wand once. "Lumos."

The wand's tip glowed, and the Gameboy didn't react. Harry tried another wand flick, "Aguamenti."

A small jet of water shot from his wand, and the Game Boy continued running merrily. That surprised him a little, he'd felt sure that pulling quadrillions of joules of energy from nothing, or arguably from "thin air," would force some sort of reaction. Harry persisted, trying a few more spells of increasing complexity before the Howler fluttered in through an air duct.

"HARRY POTTER YOU HAVE BEEN CHARGED WITH A MISDEMEANOR USE OF MAGIC WITHIN A MUGGLE ESTABLISHMENT!" The Howler roared, gnashing its paper teeth. "YOU ARE FINED 10,000 GALLEONS! PLEASE DELIVER THE SUM IN FULL TO GRINGOTTS BANK WITHIN 10 DAYS! HAVE A GREAT AFTERNOON!"

"What the—" Harry's jaw dropped as the Howler ripped itself to shreds. "Why the hell am I being fined? And 10,000 galleons, that's like 500,000 pounds! That's 100,000 pounds per spell! Under what model of economics—" Harry sputtered. "It can't possibly be the average fee for using underaged magic, or magical families would be homeless!"

"Obviously, it's a day fine," said Padma, sounding bored. "Adjusted to your level of income, or potentially your level of prestige. By the way, just how rich are you, Harry?"

"You're lucky you weren't expelled," said Luna. "Papa says the Ministry is being quite harsh with underage offenders these days."

"You could have told me this, Luna," he said through gritted teeth.

"It's your own fault, you know," she replied airily. "You're trying to measure magical energy with Muggle devices, when it would be much simpler to use a magical one."

"Well…that's…" Harry paused, considering. "You know a device that can detect magical energy?"

"No," she said. "Do you?"

"Of course not, or I would be using it!" Harry grit his teeth, counting to ten in his mind. He didn't have time for this. If he had ten days until his fine was due, then he had nine days to plot his way out of it. He wasn't paying them one knut, or his name wasn't Harry James Potter Evans Verres.

Dean tried to make the best use of the rest of the day, but it was tough. Harry was sullen, and alternately not invested in the experiments, or way too invested and pushy.

It was irritating, but Dean could sympathize. He would be a mess if he'd just lost a fortune for no reason, too. Although, Dean had warned him, and while Dean understood Harry's motivation, he was starting to notice an alarming pattern. Harry was really good at rationalizing why the rules didn't apply to himself, if he thought the ends justified it.

After dinner, they packed their things into the car, and Harry's father drove them back to Hogwarts. They were a few miles out when Dean remembered something Luna had said.

"Padma," said Dean, turning to her. "Do you remember the Remembrall that Seamus was carrying around? It used to light up when he found interesting things, but I wonder if it was actually detecting their magic."

"That's unlikely," said Padma. "Or it would be going off all the time while passing a Hogwarts painting."

"Well, that's true," Dean rubbed his knees, thinking, "But later, it reacted to that bomb by the lake. It started glowing and heating up right before the explosion."

Harry, who hadn't spoken since they'd started driving, turned from the front seat. "Do you still have the Remembrall?"

"The explosion cracked it," said Dean.

"Yes, but do you still have it in your possession? I have a potion that I can use on it, to figure out how it's different from a normal Remembrall."

Dean felt a pang of regret. "Seamus said he was going to throw it away. It's probably gone by now."

Harry nodded, and turned back in his seat, his eyes on the road. A few minutes later, Dean was watching the passing waves of streetlights when Harry said, "I think I can remake it."

"Remake what?" asked Dean.

"The Remembrall," said Harry. "Ideally, with one that hasn't been owned yet. It would require tuning it to read energy signatures rather than memories. I would also need to invert the working of the database, to react to the presence rather than the absence of something. It shouldn't be impossible, though." He sighed. "Although I will be rather occupied this week. If you'd like to work on it in my absence, you may have free access to my work notes and my library."

"You're sure?" asked Dean. Harry tended to be a bit possessive of his things.

Harry shrugged. "I'd rather this get done quickly. Besides, I know you'll take this project seriously. Let me know if you need help."

"Thanks, Harry," said Dean. "I'll do my best."

Harry nodded, and went back to staring out the front window.

Late that night, Hermione stood at the counter in the Hogwarts kitchen, armed with an array of ingredients.

There was just one right way to make a banana split. It involved at least two bananas, a pint of mint chocolate chip and peanut butter, and she didn't care that the house elves were giving her concerned looks. She busied herself with squirting the caramel syrup on the top, crumbling on the graham cracker, and finishing it off with a generous portion of whip cream. She stared at the perfection of her creation for a moment, and told herself it wasn't piggy to eat it all herself if she just ate a salad tomorrow.

It wasn't until she was halfway finished with it and the four visitors dropped in, that she started to regret her decision.

Harry was staring at her, but Dean was grinning. "Save any for us?"

She solemnly wiped her mouth, vanished the chocolate syrup stains on her robes. "Hi…uhh…everyone. How was your trip?"

"It was good. We got a lot done, but the results were mixed." Dean said more things she tried to pay attention to, but part of her was still trying to do Damage Control on her stained outfit. "…But that lead to us almost blowing the lights out, and then Harry got a Howler from the Ministry."

"Wait, what?" said Hermione, turning to Harry. "What did you do?"

"It's not important, and I'm taking care of it," muttered Harry, who was hunkering by the doorway. Dean glanced at the house elves, who were warming up dinner for the new guests. "By the way, we saw Cedric outside guarding the lake. He said all the Aurors and trainees have 24 hour guard duty."

Hermione nodded, setting down her bowl. "I just got off my rotation an hour ago. Madam Bones isn't taking any chances with this competition. We had a fire last time, we don't need a flood with this one."

The house elves started plating the food, roast ham and mashed potatoes, which distracted everyone until Luna spoke up.

"Did they ever find Moaning Myrtle? I've been worried about her."

"Not yet," said Hermione. "The Aurors are saying it might have just been her…time to move on, I guess." She shrugged, knowing this wasn't much comfort. "Supposedly it can happen without warning."

Luna frowned, seeming almost heartbroken. "It would have been nice if she'd said goodbye."

"It's funny," said Padma, in a quiet voice. "I didn't speak to her much, but she's been a part of our lives for so long. It's like losing family."

"I agree," said Dean. "Sometimes I would go visit her and have a chat. She seemed to appreciate the company, and she gave surprisingly good advice. I wish I'd spent more time with her."

They took their plates and started eating, standing around the counter.

"In other good news," said Dean. "We have a great idea for the direction for our research." He had cleared his plate already, and the house elves were happily refilling it. "Harry said we can try to modify a Remembrall to detect magical energy, instead of forgotten memories. Harry said he's willing to let us look over his notes so we can work on it."

"Our notes, actually," said Hermione, giving him a look that was meant to tease him, but he wasn't meeting her eyes. "I worked with that project too."

"Really?" said Dean, eyes lighting up. "Do you want to help us?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sure." She glanced up, thinking she heard Harry mumble something, but he still wasn't looking at her. "Just, umm, as long as you're okay with me leaving halfway through an experiment to take care of some Auror emergency."

Dean's grin was infectious. "Not a problem." He held up his cup of milk. "To our partnership."

Hermione chuckled and clinked cups with him.

She had a feeling this was going to be fun.

The travellers arrived at Hogwarts that evening. She watched them walk up to the gate, slinging their bags over their shoulders and stepping inside. She saw them stop near the lake, talking to Cedric Diggory, who was on guard duty.

The Priestess leaned against the beast's scaly back, feeling the night wind rippling through her hair. Normally, she could have done this from the privacy of her room, but the wards of Hogwarts were not so easily broken. She could observe from afar, but she could not enter, or the castle alarms would light up like a Christmas tree.

The travellers went inside, but the boy took a second look around the lake, his eyes scanning the distance before the cold won out over caution.

Her lips thinned, trying to figure out the purpose of this boy. What force was it that wove their lives into prophecy, and destined them to be heroes or villains? A baby boy who could destroy Voldemort, using the power of his mother's love? And what about the girl, who rose from the dead to slay the monster again?

There was a lie in that story somewhere, more than one if she was correct in her thinking. For one thing, you could never really be sure who was the real monster.

But there were a lot of things she didn't know, and still more she couldn't do. It was incredibly frustrating, not to mention demeaning. Like a genie in a bottle, she supposed. She stared down at the earth, white and blinding from the full moon in the snow.

There was no place for her to rest, not here or anywhere, but perhaps that was just as well. The barrier would keep her pure until one day.

One day.

The beast dipped in a gust of wind, and she balanced precariously on his back. She hadn't even placed a charm to lock herself in place, maybe because she wondered what would happen if she fell.

She sighed, gripping tighter against his massive neck, thick as a tree trunk. As it was, her life right now was like a delicate seesaw. Each day it tipped in ways she couldn't control, until eventually she'd be forced into action, probably in a way she didn't like. But if she could keep it in balance for a little longer, she'd have time to prepare for its inevitable end.

In the meanwhile, she would let things play out as they would, and hope she found the key to this growing puzzle that would someday consume the entire world. She glanced further along the clear horizon and patted the beast's neck, "Time to go."