BREAK FROM TORONTO, HARRY POTTER.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: "I WANT IT TO MEAN SOMETHING."

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

      Half past seven, Harry, Aveline, Ron, and Hermione left the Gryffindor Common Room. They'd be the firsts to go and everyone else would follow.

     Aveline was still anxious about being around all her classmates after her episode. She could feel her heart beating insanely fast in her chest and she had a feeling Harry could too because he grabbed her hand in his and tangled their fingers together.

     "It'll be fine," Harry whispered. He had leaned over to say it quietly in Aveline's ear causing her to shiver.

     Fifth years were allowed to be out in the corridors until nine o'clock, but all four of them kept looking around nervously as they made their way up to the seventh floor.

     "Hold it," Harry said warningly. He unfolded an aged piece of parchment he had been holding, tapping it with his wand, and then mumbled. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

     Aveline smiled a bit.

     The Marauder's Map, the real one. It was in better shape than she imagined.

     "Filch is on the second floor," said Harry, holding the map close to his eyes and scanning it closely, "and Mrs. Norris is on the fourth."

     "Why are you holding the map so close to your face? You have glasses," Aveline whispered. Harry glanced at her and moved the map back a bit.

     "And Umbridge?" said Hermione anxiously.

     "In her office," said Harry, pointing. "Okay, let's go."

     The four of them hurried across the seventh floor to where the Room of Requirement was.

     A stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet was where they stopped.

     "Okay," said Harry quietly, while a moth-eaten troll paused in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to watch. "Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need."

     So they did, pacing and thinking. Aveline felt a bit ridiculous.

     "Harry," said Hermione sharply, as they wheeled around after their third walk past.

     A highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Ron was staring at it, looking slightly wary. Harry reached out, seized the brass handle, pulled open the door, and led the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminated the dungeons eight floors below.

     The walls were lined with wooden bookcases, and instead of chairs there were large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carried a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors, and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that Harry was sure had hung, the previous year, in the fake Moody's office.

     "These will be good when we're practicing Stunning," said Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.

     "And just look at these books!" said Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. "A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions . . . The Dark Arts Outsmarted . . . Self-Defensive Spellwork . . . wow . . ." She looked around at Harry, her face glowing, and he saw that the presence of hundreds of books had finally convinced Hermione that what they were doing was right. "Harry, this is wonderful, there's everything we need here!"