Chapter 24

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Thanks go to ladyinthecloak for the beta and to charmed_nay for also reading it (when she has the time, busy gal).

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13 July 1996

Hermione yawned loudly, then blinked in the darkness as she took in her surroundings. It took a few moments to realize she was in Ginny's room at the Burrow and not at home; Fleur's light, whistling snore sounded to the right from her makeshift bed. Beside her, she could feel Ginny's warm body. Thankfully, Hermione had slept on the side of the bed near the doorway and wouldn't wake anyone up on her way to the loo by tripping or rolling over Ginny as she had the two previous nights.

As she slowly got up and tip-toed to the door, she wondered why she'd even woken at all. She'd had a very exciting day. Harry had joined them at the Burrow, and then their O.W.L. scores had arrived. A small tinge of disappointment washed over her as she thought about the one "E" that she'd received. If only she'd done a little better in Defense Against the Dark Arts, hadn't pushed herself so hard, she could have had all Outstandings. Already she vowed to plan out a better study outline that would take her through to her N.E.W.T.s in two years.

She closed the door quietly and turned to go up the stairs but paused when she heard a creak further down the flight of stairs. "Someone there?"

"Oh, Hermione dear," Mrs. Weasley said in a whisper, "I'm right glad you're about. I thought you'd be asleep."

"I was off to the loo."

"Go on then, but come down to the kitchen when you're done, all right? And don't tell anyone."

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione replied dutifully, anxious about what she might find awaiting her. Had someone been hurt? Had Harry run off? Surely he wouldn't have. He'd only just got there! As quickly as possible, she used the toilet, washed her hands and face, and then brushed her teeth, wanting to be presentable...especially if Bill was about. On the way down, she used her fingers to comb through her sleep-matted hair nervously.

However, Bill was nowhere to be seen once she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was standing before her at the table, speaking in hushed tones with someone seated just out of Hermione's eyesight.

"Mrs. Weasley? You wanted to see me?" she prodded softly.

"Oh, yes, come in, come in," the older woman said, turning around and pulling out a chair for Hermione. "You've a visitor."

Hermione moved forward but stopped upon seeing exactly who had come for her. "Professor Snape?"

"Excellent memory, Miss Granger," he said with a light sneer. "To know who I am after not seeing me for a few weeks. Exceptional, that."

She frowned as she looked from his annoyed expression to Mrs. Weasley's anxious face. "I'm just... surprised." Feeling uncomfortable in her nightshirt, though it was thick and long, she sat in the proffered chair and scooted it closer to the table.

"I'll just be in the living room," Mrs. Weasley said, "finishing up with the laundry."

"Very well, Molly, I shan't be long," Professor Snape said, eyes still on Hermione.

"What can I... Am I... Have I done something wrong?" Hermione asked, frightened that he was here to tell her that there had been some mistake with her O.W.L. scores. Oh no! He wants to change my "O" in Potions to an "E"...or worse!

"Unfortunately," he began coldly, "I am here because you've done something right."

Relief washed over her and then evaporated as she took in his meaning. "And that is?"

"You received your grades today, did you not?"

"Yes, sir," she squeaked.

"I want you to know that I am only here because the headmaster has asked this of me. If it were solely up to me, I wouldn't be here at all, as I don't feel as though I need any assistance."

At this last word, Hermione perked up. He needed her help with something. Dumbledore had forced him to ask it of her. "All right," she said when he paused for a long time.

"There is a potion that the headmaster has discovered, and he feels that it would help Potter in his... fight against the Dark Lord. It's very complicated, and there are certain stipulations that must be met." He pushed his wooden chair back from the worn table with a screech and stood before pacing a couple of times. "After reviewing the O.W.L. results today...those of people friendly with Potter...we've come to the decision that if anyone is to help me, anyone loyal to Potter with at least some intelligence, it should be you."

"I don't know what to say."

"You will decide if you want to assist me or not. If you choose the latter, you will speak of this to no one, even Potter, as we don't want to give him any false hopes. For all we know, this potion might be a waste of my precious time."

"And if I choose to help?"

"You will agree to meet with me privately and do what I say...be it ingredient preparing, brainstorming, or even testing the potion. You will keep this a secret. And above all else, you will not let anything come before our work. I am certain I don't have to reiterate how important this is?"

"Of course I'll do what I can to help, sir. I accept those terms."

"Very well," he said, leaning down over the table to glare at her stonily. "And don't think that this will garner you any leniency. In my classroom, you will do your work or fail; there will be no favoritism."

She wanted to point out that he afforded his Slytherins favoritism but didn't want to be disrespectful...or make him change his mind about having her help. As it was, it was an honor that Headmaster Dumbledore would think of her for something so important. And even though the professor behaved as if he was annoyed at having to ask her, she'd seen the relief light his eyes briefly when she'd agreed. It had to be something very complex indeed if he...someone she knew to be very intelligent and skillful...agreed to have an assistant.

"I will strive to do my best, sir, as always," she replied, extending a hand. When he glanced at it with an arched eyebrow, she pulled it back and sighed. What have I got myself into?

"Very well." He straightened and turned away to go towards the doorway. Stopping and looking back, he asked, "What's with the black eye?"

Hermione felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment as one of her hands flew to touch the colored skin beneath her eye. "One of Fred and George's products... a telescope. It punched me."

"And you've not thought to use magic to clear it up?"

"Well..." She shrugged slightly. "Both Mrs. Weasley and I tried everything we could, but nothing works.""

He snorted and shook his head. "Let's hope that asking you to assist me with this potion isn't a mistake...if you can't even get rid of a black eye." And with that said, he left her sitting alone in the Weasley kitchen, indignant and a little angry at the way he'd treated her, though he needed her help.

Mrs. Weasley walked in and slammed the door he'd left partially open. "Well, if he could do it better, he should have," she groused. "The nerve!" She flashed Hermione a smile. "I just heard the last of it as I was coming in. Stopped me in my tracks, that did." She sighed. "Guess it doesn't pay to ask what he wanted. He as much as told me it was none of my business."

"Sorry, it's not to be discussed, not even his visit."

"Thought as much. Up to bed with you then, dear."

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione hurried up to the room she was sharing with Ginny and Fleur, wondering if her new project would interfere with her reviewing for classes. Not that it mattered. She would do anything to help Harry and the cause. Feeling important, she slid into bed and mentally listed all potions she could think of that might aid Harry in his fight.

---

3 August 1996

Leaving the safety of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes without permission to follow Draco Malfoy down to Knockturn Alley had been a bad idea. Hermione feared that the Weasleys would catch them and be furious. Just watching Draco talk to the owner of Borgin and Burke's had her ill at ease. She felt as though someone were watching...impossible, as they were hidden beneath an Invisibility Cloak...or as if something bad were about to happen. How had she let Harry and Ron talk her into this?

All the stories she'd heard of Knockturn Alley came back to her: the seedy shops, the kind of people who frequented there, and even horrible crimes. What if someone bumped into them? It was bad enough that they barely fit comfortably under the cloak, and if they moved the wrong way or a strong wind blew, people could likely see their feet.

The tinkling of the bell over the doorway drew her from her thoughts, and she watched as a smug Malfoy strutted out and pulled his cloak tighter about him, looking left and then right before going back the way he'd come.

Ron whispered, "What was that about?"

Before she could give her opinion, she noticed oddly distorted movement next to a stone wall where Draco had just passed and realized that someone was there, Disillusioned. As she opened her mouth to alert the boys, Severus Snape came shimmering into view. He gave the shop one lingering look before hurrying after Draco.

He's spying on Draco. It's obvious he's not seen us. Oh, blast! Not wanting Harry to follow Draco and have them happen upon Snape, she did the first thing that came to mind.

"You two stay here," she whispered and ducked out from beneath the cloak. Pretending to check her hair in the glass of the store, she made certain that Snape could no longer be seen walking down the path. Certain he was gone, she entered Borgin and Burke's.

What came next happened so fast, she found herself blurting out things to the man, who'd seemed suspicious about her from the moment she'd entered. She chalked it up to the fact that he probably hadn't many honest looking schoolgirls shopping at his store. The ghastly trinkets were definitely nothing she wanted. It ended with the man chasing her out of the store and yelling for her to 'Get out.'

Annoyed that the man had seen through her façade and that she'd even gone into the shop in the first place, she took her anger out on Ron, who seemed unsurprised that she'd failed at her task. She wondered if she would ever find out why Snape had been following Draco. Hadn't Draco always boasted that his Head of House was a close friend of the family? If her first instinct was right, Snape knew Draco was up to no good. But what? She still smarted over the name Narcissa Malfoy had called her while at Madam Malkin's: scum. And Draco had called her a Mudblood... not for the first time in her life. Would she never receive the respect any person in the Wizarding world deserved? More importantly, did Snape feel that way about Muggle-borns? She hoped not, although she had to wonder...he was a Slytherin and a friend of the Malfoys after all.

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1 September 1996

The Sorting was nearly done, and Harry still hadn't made an appearance. This worried Hermione. Last she'd seen of him, he'd gone to Slughorn's gathering on the Hogwarts Express. Neville had said that he'd slunk off after Zabini, so she hoped he didn't get into any trouble. Everyone else from the train had gone to the Great Hall.

"I wish Harry would hurry up."

"Don't worry. Maybe he was talking to Hagrid."

"Possibly, but Hagrid's joined us now."

"Maybe... maybe he asked Harry to do something for him," Ron said after a moment. "You know," he lowered his voice, "Professor Dumbledore might have needed him to do something."

"I don't think he would do that now of all times, Ron." She looked over to where Professor Slughorn sat and frowned. What had the man wanted? Neville hadn't told him, as he'd started an animated conversation with Luna about plants mentioned in a Quibbler article. "I'm off to the girls' toilet," she told Ron and quickly left the table.

The Entrance Hall was deserted, her shoes clomping loudly on the stone as she made for the exit. It was possible that Harry had talked to Hagrid about something and then had decided not to enter the Great Hall, knowing everyone would stare, point, and whisper. She and Ron had been accosted several times by people asking questions about the fight in the Department of Mysteries and other things the papers had been printing. So it could definitely be avoidance. Or Harry might be taking a moment to himself to think about Sirius. Coming back to the castle could have brought back memories of their flight from the school's grounds to try to rescue him.

Before she could open the door, however, a deceptively quiet voice stopped her. "I wonder, Miss Granger, what would be so important that you would leave in the middle of the Welcome Feast. Not interested in seeing what new little dunderheads are to join Gryffindor?"

"Hello, Professor, I... er, I was going to the lavatory."

"I was unaware that we had one located outside." He glided closer. "It would be prudent for you to tell me the truth."

She remained silent, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't out Harry. The last thing she wanted to do was get her friend into trouble.

"I believe that's the first time I've ever asked a question that you've not had an answer ready. I expect it's nothing you can recite from a textbook then." He glared at her and stooped down to look directly into her eyes. "Running off to meet with Potter?"

"No, sir," she said indignantly. "I'm worried that..."

"Save your explanation and get back to your table."

"But, sir, something could be wrong. Even the Ministry is taking precautions to..." His sneer stopped her mid-sentence. "I mean no disrespect."

"He is with Auror Tonks, if you must know, girl, and I am on my way to fetch him at the gate." He straightened to his full height and nodded his head towards the doors to the Great Hall. "Get back inside."

"Yes, sir," she replied, glad he hadn't stooped to taking points before the term had even started.

"And Miss Granger?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Expect notice from me as to when we will have our first meeting."

"I shall."

She didn't linger to see where he went, but she felt better knowing that Harry was with Tonks and that the staff seemed aware of it. For a moment, she'd thought perhaps a Death Eater had found a way to snatch him without anyone knowing. As she took her seat next to Ron, who was taking a big chomp out of a chicken leg, Professor Snape's words flitted through her mind again.

He would be contacting her soon.

Excitement took flight in her stomach, replacing her anxiousness over Harry's disappearance. Working with the sour man would be trying, she knew, but the end result could be worth it. If she could help him create something that would help Harry, any sacrifice she had to make would be worth it. If she were honest with herself, she knew that she could get by with less reviewing than she'd planned. She'd been reading her textbooks since she'd got them anyway.

I should have kept that Time-Turner. I could really do with it now. Blast, I think they're all broken...and our fault at that.

At that moment, Harry made his way towards her and Ron. "Look, he's back!"

"What... oh!" Ron waved at Harry and told Dean to budge up so they could make room for Harry between them.

She sucked in a sharp breath. There was blood on his face! Had Professor Snape done something to him? She knew for a fact that the man had gone to get him. What had happened? Had there been an attack?

"You're covered in blood!" she said, horrified. How could he not know that his face had blood on it? "Come here..." With a flick of her wand and an urgent Tergeo! his face was cleaned. She nearly choked when he asked if his nose looked all right.

Something had happened indeed. Surely the professor wouldn't have hit him in the nose (staff wouldn't dare, would they?), but if he asked that...and had that blood crusted onto his face...someone had. He dodged her questions on it and forced her to wait for answers.

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19 September 1996

Ron had been smacking loudly as he chewed his way through a box of biscuits Hermione's mum had sent to her as part of her birthday gift, and she'd had enough.

"Close your mouth when you chew, will you?" she snapped.

He glared at her and made a show of chewing with his mouth closed.

"Honestly, you're so immature sometimes. I don't know why I even bother to...oh, what's that?"

An owl had flown in through one of the common room windows and was headed for them. Harry looked up and extended a hand to it. "School owl," he said. It landed on his outstretched hand but looked at Hermione and extended its leg to her.

"Another birthday gift?" Ron asked. "Might be more sweets."

"You wish," she said as she took the small envelope from the owl. "Honestly, is that all you care about, eating?"

"Quidditch is a close second," he quipped, again chewing noisily.

Inside the envelope was a single sheet of parchment, and in a spiky handwriting, she read the one-line sentence. Be in my office at eight o'clock tonight. There was no mistaking that this was Professor Snape's handwriting. She'd seen it enough through the notes and marks on her tests and essays for his classes.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"Oh, er, Madam Pince has decided to allow me to help out in the library. I volunteered," she said, knowing they'd believe the lie. "Want to join me?"

"No," they both said immediately.

She grinned and slipped the parchment into her pocket. "Ron, give this owl a bite of biscuit, will you?"

"Whereryoffto?" he called out after her, mouth full.

"To get ready. I have to be there in just over an hour." She hurried up the stairs leading to her dormitory room. Once alone in her room, she sat on her bed and drew the curtains around it in case one of the others came in. Her breaths were coming in short gasps.

Relax, she chided herself internally. He can't bite your head off. Well, actually, he can, can't he? Stop being so nervous, Hermione. This will be like any other class, just with less people.

She much preferred the way Professor Snape had taught Potions. Slughorn, while a nice man, had a completely different method, and she felt that she wasn't living up to her potential under his instruction. This caused her to scowl. Even Harry was doing better than she was, which made absolutely no sense at all. He'd never been all that great in Potions before, though she could agree that Professor Snape had much to do with it.

Blast! Nervous would be mildly describing how she felt. Wanting to look her best but not draw any suspicious gazes, she chose a presentable outfit to wear beneath her school robes and pulled her hair up in a twist. It would do well to get it out of the way, for there was no telling what mess she could be in for...some ingredients are quite messy. Before she knew it, the time had come for her to join her professor.

With only a nod at her friends, she crawled through the portrait hole and made her way to the stairs, practically skipping down them in anticipation. It was her good fortune that she met with no Slytherins on her way down. Wiping her hands on her robes, she knocked.

"Enter," he called out.

The door opened with an ominous squeak, and before she could greet him, he spoke again.

"A bit early, aren't you?"

"Only just," she said quietly, closing the door behind her.

"Eager to prove yourself?" he asked, voice cold.

Hermione turned to face him. "Eager to help."

"Very well." He beckoned her closer. "Where did you tell your little friends you were going tonight?"

"I said that Madam Pince needed my help."

"Your lie," he began, smirking, "works to our advantage. Your assignment tonight..." he pointed to a parchment on his messy desk, "...will be to go to the library and find these books."

She thought it odd that he wouldn't simply get the books himself. "Sir..."

"Silence, girl," he hissed. "As I was saying, you need to get these books without anyone being the wiser. I don't even want Madam Pince finding out. If anyone should know that someone had taken these books all at once, it might be deduced..."

"She has spells on the library. No one can take books without properly checking them out, Professor."

His glare could have melted ice. "Do not interrupt me again, Miss Granger. Two points from Gryffindor." Here he graced her with a nasty smile. "I've included a spell that should allow you to get by with the books, though I've never tested it. Better for you, an over-achieving student, to be caught than I. Test it out with a random text first."

"Yes, sir." She tried to keep the anger out of her voice and succeeded, barely. How dare he take points!

"You have one week to get all of these books. Meet me back here, same time. Understood?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Excellent. Be on your way."

Was that all? Why a week? Surely it wouldn't be so hard to find the books.

"You have a question?"

"Several."

At this, he chuckled lightly. "Why am I not surprised! Find the books. We'll talk later. There is something that I must do tonight... unfortunately."

"All right. Good night." She wondered what had come up that would possibly take him away from his duty.

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Happy birthday."

He turned away, leaving her to retreat, stunned, with only a stammered thanks. The entire walk to the library, she wondered if she'd just imagined his grudging birthday greeting. Perhaps losing two house points was worth the cost of hearing him say something and sound almost human about it.

She beamed broadly.

---

12 October 1996

"You're late," Professor Snape said as she walked through his doorway.

"It's been a... long day," Hermione said resignedly.

"Understanding," came his soft reply.

This gave Hermione pause. She looked around to see if they were alone, shocked that he'd not gone into his usual lecture about wasting his time. Not that she'd been late much, mind. Twice maybe?

"Thank you."

"Miss Granger, before we start..."

Her eyes widened. He sounded a little nervous.

"Have a seat."

She quickly sat in the hard chair across from his desk and waited impatiently as he took his seat. Something had happened. Did he no longer need her? What did he seem so uncomfortable about?

"Professor, if my notes on the books are a bit..."

He waved her words away and rubbed his temples a few times before speaking. "I must talk to you about today, Miss Granger."

"The Katie Bell incident?"

"Yes, the very one."

"Sir, we told Professor McGonagall all that we know."

"And I'm sure that you've become aware that my esteemed colleague doesn't accept theories very well. She mentioned something to me...something about Draco...but would say nothing further."

Hermione took a deep breath. "And you want me to tell you what was said."

"It could be of great importance. I... I know that you understand that there is more than meets the eye with all of this...you do, don't you?"

"Yes, sir, I've come to understand that."

"Then I must implore you to help me. Tell me all that you know."

"To be honest, I don't know much. It's Harry who was ranting about Draco being involved. I told him not to say anything."

"Why don't you start from the beginning, hmmm? What would make Potter jump to the conclusion that Draco Malfoy had been involved... when he hadn't even been to Hogsmeade?"

So that was it, was it? He was looking to protect his little Slytherin. Just as she opened her mouth to say so, she remembered that the professor himself had been spying on Draco. Perhaps her first instinct about that had been correct.

Seeing her internal struggle, he spoke again. "I am not asking you to betray confidences for the joy of learning about your friends' ridiculous lives or petty secrets. I know what this places on your shoulders. It's why I'm hesitant to ask, but anything more that I can give to the headmaster upon his return Monday would be appreciated."

"When we went to Diagon Alley during the summer..."

"I want to know about today!" he snapped.

"If you'll not interrupt me, you'll find that I must tell you a little back story first, else this won't make sense!"

"Very well," he said, one side of his lips twitching upwards in appreciation of her cheek. "Go on."

"We saw Draco in Diagon Alley and followed him. He ended up at Borgin and Burkes."

His eyes widened as he remembered the exact day she was referring to.

"I saw you there. After he left, you Disillusioned yourself and followed him. I figured you were doing the same as us, trying to find out what he was about."

"And the others?"

"They didn't see you. I... uh, I ducked out from beneath the cloak and went into the store. That way we wouldn't follow and see you. I thought maybe, you know, you were doing something for Dumbledore, and you know how Harry is." She swallowed thickly and continued. "Anyway, we'd listened in on their conversation through a pair of Extendable Ears."

"Clever."

She smiled and told him what they'd overheard. "And that's when I saw the necklace for the first time."

"But if it was still there, then why would Potter think Draco had it to do this?"

"That's what I said, but he thinks he might have owled for it later and had someone here help him...with the Imperius and giving it to Katie Bell." She snorted to relay to him that she found the notion ridiculous, but was shocked as he nodded and brought an index finger up to circle his lips in thought. "You think that's plausible?" she asked incredulously.

"I think it's a sound theory, even if it is was Potter who thought of it."

Gobsmacked, Hermione sat back in her chair. "I mean it just sounds so... outlandish."

"Desperate people will do desperate things. That's always been the way of the world."

"I talked to Leanne a great deal, Katie's mate, right shaken up she was. She has no idea how Katie got it, just that she'd gone to the toilet and came back with it, sounding mysterious. She doesn't know who it was intended for."

"And Potter? What does he think?"

Puzzled, Hermione said, "His first thought was Dumbledore, then an Auror or Slughorn."

"Interesting."

"I thought maybe it was meant for Harry.''

"Not likely, as she would have just given it to him instead of going back to the castle."

"That's what Harry said!" It was truly discomfiting the way Harry and the professor seemed to think alike. "So... do you think it was for Dumbledore then?"

He blinked. "I apologize. I was lost in thought for a moment." He shrugged lightly. "I guess we will never know."

"Are you... Are you going to question Malfoy?"

"I will indeed."

A new respect developed for him in that moment. He'd always favored his own house, but it seemed that he would be fair in this...when someone's life had nearly been lost. It gave her comfort that he would try to find out more.

"Katie Bell, they're sending her to St. Mungo's."

He nodded and pulled a scarf out of his pocket, gently opening it to reveal the necklace. "I've got some ideas about how she can be treated from looking over this, quite complex, so it will take some time."

"I'm glad to hear that, sir."

"Now, what do you think about Von Dinea?" He once again wrapped the necklace in the scarf and placed it back in his pocket.

"Darcilo Von Dinea is none other than Leonardo da Vinci himself. See how you can rearrange the letters and make one name from the other?"

"I wondered when you'd come to that conclusion. Yes, da Vinci and he are one and the same." He took a deep breath. "I'm sure it's where the Dark Lord got the inspiration to do the same with his name."

"Right, using Tom Marvolo Riddle to make I am Lord Voldemort. Harry told me about that."

The professor nodded and seemed on the verge of saying something until she blurted out her thoughts.

"I don't understand why he would do this, da Vinci I mean. Develop this other pseudonym!"

"Think clearly, girl. Back in those days, the church played a major role in things. If he'd been branded irreparably, he might have lost his life. It was bad enough they were suspicious of him. So, he faked his death, changed his appearance and went on with this studying."

"Oh! He's the one who broke into Nicolas Flamel's tomb and found it empty! I can't believe I didn't see it before! They knew each other, didn't they? He learned his secret and the empty tomb was proof."

"I think it's safe to say that not many people know this. When Carodoc Dearborn published this book, he drew attention to himself."

"Attention of the worst kind: Vol...er, You Know Who."

"Yes, I have no doubt that he was taken and used for information. The Dark Lord strove to find the missing piece to the puzzle of immortality."

"Do you think he's alive?"

"That is highly unlikely."

"I was reading over the..."

A knock on his office door interrupted them. "Be quiet," he demanded of her before calling out, "Enter."

"Oh, good, Severus, you're... Miss Granger, what are you doing here?" Professor McGonagall eyed them both curiously. "You aren't here relaying Potter's unfounded accusations, are you?"

"Some of us, Professor McGonagall, have better things to do than to sit around speaking of your pet Gryffindor," Professor Snape cut in. "I was just speaking to Miss Granger about her essay from Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Top notch, I expect," McGonagall said fondly.

"Words written on a page show less merit than the practice of what's written. She needs work in this area. Repeating text lines to me in a rearranged fashion are less than impressive."

McGonagall waved his words away with a hand gesture and a sniff. "I need a moment if you don't mind."

"Certainly. We've just finished up here. Good evening, Miss Granger."

"Thank you, sir, and I will try to do better."

"So you say," he said, turning away from her and facing his colleague. "Have a seat, Minerva," he said, conjuring a plump, comfortable chair for her.

Hermione hurried off to ponder their conversation, excited that she'd unraveled part of the book's mystery correctly. Now they just had to decipher the rest. The man spoke in bloody riddles and codes!

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AN: How's that for a walk in the past? This is so fun for me. More up soon.

A few lines of dialogue have been taken directly from JK Rowling's sixth book, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.