Disclaimer: *sniff* As much as I’d love to claim Harry and the gang as my own, I must acknowledge the fact that they belong to their creator, the lovely and talented J.K. Rowling. Any spells, artifacts, and other people/things you don’t recognize are mine. Man, now I feel greedy…but it had to be said! Honest!

Note: This takes place in 2003, five years after Harry, Ron, and Hermione graduated from Hogwarts.

by Krystyn Poe

"Will he be able to stop me?"

"Perhaps. I’ve never put much faith in prophecies, but the last few have come true…in one form or another. Then again, they tend to be so vague that any catastrophic event can be forced to fit the mold."

"You have a point. Still, we should proceed with caution. When playing with fire people tend to be burned."

The woman turned away from her companion, looking deeper into the chamber. It was an empty room that gave the impression of being much more spacious than it really was, but the most unusual thing about it was that it was made entirely of smooth, uncut stone. In the center was a strange formation, a cauldron of stone that seemed to have risen up from the ground when the chamber itself had been created, for it too did not interrupt the flow of the cold, grey stone. The woman walked over to the cauldron, which came up to her waist and was at least an arm’s length across, and took a small beam of holly from her robes.

"Miritas," she murmured.

The molten lava sputtered and churned, suddenly sending a burst of flame into the air. Soon a circle of fire enclosed an image that she studied thoughtfully.

Her companion joined her and gazed at the circle. He sighed when he saw the three people enclosed.

"So we’re going to have to be playing against him?"

She pursed her lips. "I don’t know, but he is still fallible. It’s the other I’m more concerned about."

"Divide and conquer?"

"If we can keep tabs on the divided that’s probably our best bet. Finite incantatem." The circle of fire turned into a drop of water, which sizzled on contact with the lava.

She turned, looking her companion straight in the eye. "Time is short. We must begin now if we are to succeed."

"As you wish."

* * *

Harry sighed, removing his glasses from his face and rubbing his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand to look at his Millennial Magic: Prophecies, Texts, and Artifacts textbook. He had yet to start on the term paper that was going to be due in two weeks; hell, he hadn’t even picked a topic yet. While ancient magic intrigued him, which is why he went to graduate school in the first place, writing term papers did not appeal to him in the least.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Harry grabbed his wand as a precaution and slowly approached it, when he heard a rather annoyed voice mutter, "Dammit, where did those bloody keys get too? Stupid Muggle locks…"

Harry chuckled to himself, relaxing as he unlocked the door to let Ron, who was still searching his pockets for his keys, in. Ron never quite understood the logic of having Muggle locks placed on their doors, even though he and Hermione had explained to him over and over again that it would make it harder for wizards to break in because they weren’t used to such things. Normally a simple alohomora spell would fix that, but Hermione had the foresight to make it spell-proof…or almost spell-proof at least. She didn’t know everything, so there might have been one or two she forgot to protect the lock against, but all three rather doubted it.

Ron shook his head as Harry closed the door behind him and wearily collapsed onto the couch. "The Ministry’s up in arms over the theft of something from Australia of all places, although I don’t know why a petty theft is important to the Defense Council. It’s insane, I’ve never felt like such a gofer in all my life."

Unfortunately, being a gofer for the Ministry’s Defense Council was somewhere in Ron’s job description. As the liaison to the council, he often had to work with other departments on different subjects, which boiled down to basically explaining what the council wanted and getting stamps of approval from various departments. Occasionally, due to his experience with the Dark Arts (inadvertently thanks to Harry) he was asked to look over Defense council propositions and pick out flaws and such, which he’d always been pretty good at. Even though Ron complained about his job, especially when things were hectic, Harry knew that he really felt like he belonged there.

"Australia? Well, we are friendly with them, so if it was important I guess we should be concerned."

Ron ran a hand through his fire-red hair distractedly. "It’s not quite that simple, I’m afraid. I probably shouldn’t be talking about it anyway. Is Hermione home yet? It’s her turn to cook and I’m starving."

Harry shook his head. "Nope, she’s probably reviewing one last article before–"

He was interrupted by a resonant beep from the WizardComm, a newfangled communication device that reminded Harry of a crystal ball holder, on his study table. He walked over to it, followed closely by Ron.

"Incoming message for Harry Potter from Hermione Granger," it chirped. "Please insert wand for retrieval."

Harry took out his wand and placed it in one of the holes that was in the WizardComm. Instantly the hole tightened around the wand, fastening it in place and small electric beams grew about a foot into the air as the ‘Comm drew dormant magic from it. An image formed, showing Hermione at her desk from about the waist up.

"Hi Harry," Hermione started before noticing Ron was there too. "Oh, hello there Ron, sorry I’m late. We just got a break on a story and it really needs to get out in the morning edition, so things are a bit chaotic around here…" They saw her catch a file folder out of mid-air and mouth her thanks to someone before turning back to the ‘Comm.

Ron chuckled as she opened the file, skimming it briefly. "I know what you mean, things were a bit wild around the Ministry today too. I was just telling Harry about how bonkers everyone’s going about some theft in another country that has no bearing on us whatsoever. It’s insane, I tell you."

Harry thought he saw Hermione start a bit at this news, but was sure he imagined it when he saw her merely raising a curious eyebrow. "Where?"

"Oh, Australia. It’s nothing important, honest. When do you expect to be home?"

"Yeah, I’m starving," Harry piped up.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don’t know, an hour, maybe less. Go get some Chinese takeout, there’s a wonderful little Muggle restaurant around the corner. Harry, you have some Muggle money lying around, don’t you?"

Harry searched his pockets and come up with a bit. "Um, yeah, think twenty would do it?"

"Eh, thirty ought to be enough. I think I see another ten by the couch over there." She pointed in that direction and Harry turned around, his green eyes searching for the cash. Finally, his eyes landed on the ten-pound note. He walked over to get it, adding it to the twenty he already had.

"Yup, I’ve got it," he called out.

"Alright, I trust you two to order for me, I’ll be home as soon as I can. Night."

"Night, Herm," they called in unison as they saw her figure bend over and take out her wand. The picture then turned back into lightning bolts, which quickly dissipated when Harry took his wand out from the ‘Comm and sat down on the couch. He promptly made himself comfortable and tossed Ron the money, who caught it in mid-air, giving Harry an ‘I-don’t-think-so’ kind of look.

"Get me an order of their General Gau’s Chicken, two egg rolls, and some House Fried Rice. Hermione usually sticks to Shrimp Lo Mein and spring rolls," Harry said nonchalantly.

Ron held up his hands. "Hey, who said I was going to get the food? I’ve been on my feet all day trying to help the Council make heads or tails of this theft thing and all you’ve been doing is studying your arse off for some term paper."

Ron looked indignant. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

"Right. And Crookshanks loves Pig."

"Well…err…I suppose if I had to choose or something…" He muttered, ears turning slightly pink.

Harry shook his head. "It’s around the corner to the left. If you go now I won’t say anything about this to Hermione."

"Oh bloody hell, alright then, have it your way. General Gau’s Chicken and eggs rolls for you, Shrimp Lo Mein and spring rolls for Hermione."

"And don’t forget the House Fried Rice!" Harry called as Ron slammed the door shut.

* * *

"Mmmm, that smells good. Whoever ordered for me just got major brownie points. Is that Shrimp Lo Mein?" Hermione said as she entered, quickly kicking off her shoes. She was at the living room table in a flash, already picking at the food with her chopsticks. "Harry, you’re a saint."

"Hey! What makes Harry any more saint-like than me?" Ron protested, a mock-hurt look on his face.

"Because you never would have remembered what kind of Chinese I like. Ooh, and spring rolls too, I think you just got promoted Harry. You’re right up there with oxygen."

Hermione took the remainder of one of her spring rolls and stuffed in Ron’s mouth. "Ron, dear, silence is golden."

Ron looked like he was about to explode, ears turning bright red, but then he remembered he had a spring roll in his mouth and chewed on it reluctantly, shooting daggers at Hermione the entire time. Harry had to cover his mouth with a napkin to control his laughter.

"Don’t you even start, Harry," Ron said as he swallowed the spring roll, making a face as he did.

Harry looked around, wide-eyed and innocent. "Start what, Ron? I have no idea what you’re talking about. Unless it’s about Hermione’s–"

Ron waved a Peking Ravioli at Harry threateningly. "Harry, I’m warning you…"

Hermione, however, looked genuinely puzzled. "What are you two talking about?"

"Nothing," they said in unison, beginning to eat their food again quietly.

Hermione glared at both of them, dropping her chopsticks. "All right, what’s going on? And don’t you dare say nothing." Ron closed his mouth.

Harry shrugged. "Nothing major. Ron just commented on the fact that you have a nice arse earlier tonight."

Ron covered his face with his hands, ears turning bright red again. Hermione, blushing slightly, merely turned her gaze to Ron, resembling a stern Professor McGonagall so much that Harry nearly shivered.

"Well, Ronald Weasley, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um…Oh, Harry, I’m going to get you for this!" Ron threw his Ravioli at Harry, hitting him square in the forehead, leaving a trail of sauce dripping down his face.

"Ron, I don’t think you should have done that…" Harry said as Ron got a plateful of Lo Mein dumped over his head by Hermione. She winked at Harry, who grabbed the duck sauce, attempting to top Ron off, but Ron grabbed it as well, forcing it all over Hermione.

Everything stopped. Hermione was looking down at her shirt with a shocked expression on her face. Then, out of the blue, she grinned and dumped the sweet and sour sauce all over Harry’s head.

"Now that we’re all equally messy, we can finish dinner…or what we have left of it. I’m still starved," she added, dumping some more Lo Mein on her plate and beginning to eat. She glanced up to see Harry and Ron staring at her incredulously. "What?" She asked around a mouthful of food.

They shook their heads. "Nothing," they replied in unison again. Hermione rolled her eyes, but let it go.

The rest of dinner was a peaceful affair.

* * *

"Ron, there’s something I need to talk to you about," Hermione said, towel-drying her hair as she sat down across from the couch. Harry was in his bedroom actually writing up his term paper after finally deciding on a topic, so she decided this was probably the best time to talk.

"Shoot." Ron looked up from his magazine.

"This evening I got an anonymous tip from someone who said they had something big for the Daily Prophet, something big enough to make the front headline. Naturally I was interested, so I had it brought in. That was the file folder you saw me catch when I was talking to you."

Ron nodded. "Go on."

"Well, how much do you really know about that theft in Australia?"

This got his attention. He sat up, staring at her intensely. "I think the question is, how much do you know?"

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "A decent amount. Enough to see why the ministry was in a panic. Apparently this item, the Syphon Blade, was stolen from the Australian Institute for Dangerous Artifacts. It was under high security, several Aurors constantly patrol the place, especially at night, and it’s a joint effort between countries due to the nature of the artifacts held there. If someone can breech security there, they can get anything anywhere – this may have been just a warning and the Syphon Blade a random artifact, but something is telling me that’s not the case."

Ron nodded. "That explains everything. No one bothered to fill me in on exactly what was going on, but I gathered about that much from the papers I was pushing around all day. I’ll bet they’ll call me into an early meeting tomorrow, fill me in, and tell me it’s all classified information." He sighed. "How many other people know about this?"

"It was a sealed file, so only me and whomever tipped me off."

"And me."

Ron and Hermione turned their heads to find Harry leaning against the wall that divided the kitchen from the living room. "Sorry, I was getting some tea and I overheard that part about the Syphon Blade being stolen. I think you’re right Hermione, it wasn’t a random strike."

"What’s so special about the Syphon Blade, then?" Ron asked.

"A lot. It’s probably one of the more dangerous artifacts kept in the Aussie Institute. You see, the Syphon Blade was similar to a pensieve in the fact that it absorbed insubstantial things, but instead of thoughts it would absorb your soul bit by bit, draining your life and magic away from you until you died. It was a very useful weapon that King Eldritch, a warlord from long ago, had fashioned into a sword that he used to conquer Australia. When he was defeated, the sword was broken, but the Blade couldn’t be, so it was buried deep in the Great Victoria Desert. It was found about fifty years ago by a Muggle archeological team who thought it was nothing more than quartz…until they all ended up dead within a week. It was taken by some Aurors to the Institute soon afterwards where it’s been kept under heavy guard ever since."

"Heavy combined guard. There are probably at least five countries involved, since every country who has an artifact placed in the institute is required to provide at least ten Aurors to help defend it." Hermione added.

"Why does everyone find out about these things before me? I’m the Ministry official here and I’m being outdone by a reporter and a grad student," he said, trying to lighten the mood. He got a small, sympathetic smile out of Hermione, but the attempt still fell flat.

Harry sat on the chair next to Hermione and put his tea down on the table. "I suppose the question is what do we do with this new found information?"

"Nothing. We’re going to stay out of this and leave it to the ministry. I trust Hermione kept it out of the paper…" Ron looked over at her for conformation and she nodded, "and I know that you can keep a secret, Harry. There’s nothing we can do about this so we just have to let it lie. Agreed?"

Harry and Hermione reluctantly consented. Hermione was the first to stand with a yawn.

"I should at least finish my first draft tonight. ‘Night Ron." Harry said, picking up his tea and following Hermione, leaving Ron alone with his thoughts.

Ron stretched out on the couch again and picked up his magazine, flipping though the pages absently. He sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything but the robbery that night, and whispered, "Nox" to the light next to him. He walked down the short hall to his room, flopped down onto his bed, and stared at the ceiling for a good long time before finally drifting off to a thankfully dreamless sleep.

* * *

"They’re on to us."

"No, not really. What they have can be considered common information. They know even less about us than we know about them. We have the advantage here…for the moment at least."

"But what if they find– "

"Find what? We left no trace behind in Australia that I know of, which is why everyone is so baffled. Yes, there’s a prophecy out there pertaining to this, but I agree with you when it comes to that. Prophecies are nothing but clues to the future that only fit the puzzle after the time has passed to use them."

"But what if they find out how to use it? We did, and they’re at least as smart as we are…"

The woman looked at her companion strangely. "You’re worried. You shouldn’t be, you know. You were just reassuring me a while back, why must we switch places?"

He stiffened. "I didn’t reassure you, I told you the truth."

She smiled. "To be able to hear the truth from a companion’s lips is reassurance enough. However, you may be right. Perhaps we should pay more attention to prophecies than we have been. I’d rather be cautious than reckless when dealing with something of this magnitude. Maybe it will give us something we can use against him."

"Why not pre-empt his strike and prevent the problem in the first place? Killing him– "

"Would get the attention of the wrong people at the wrong time and a hundred obstacles would rise up in our faces. No, we can’t do that."

"What about a…warning?"

"You’re entirely too violent. While normally I would not object, how would he see this as a warning? And how would we warn him in such a way as to divide them?" She shook her head. "There’s no reason to connect us to anything at the moment. We must simply bide our time. Trust me, we will have to take action…soon. Finite Incantatem."

The hiss of water falling onto fire sounded throughout the darkness.

* * *

Harry sighed. His rough draft was done, but he was so sick of the paper that he decided to take a break from it. Unfortunately, with both Hermione and Ron at work and his classes over for the day, he didn’t have much to occupy himself with, so he opened up his text book to the "Prophecies" section and began flipping through it, looking for an absurd one to laugh at.

What he found, however, didn’t make him laugh one bit. He scanned the pages twice to make sure he had it all straight before dashing to the WizardComm in the other room and inserting his wand.

"Identification?" The ‘Comm chirped.

"Harry Potter."

The ‘Comm shot lightning into the air. "Confirmed. Who would you like to call?"

"Ron Weasley, Ministry of Magic, and Hermione Granger, Daily Prophet."

"One moment, please."

Harry waited impatiently before Ron, and then Hermione showed up in a split screen before him.

"What’s wrong, Harry? You look like the world’s coming to an end." Hermione commented.

"It might be. We’re in deep trouble."

Author’s Note: I’d like to thank George Weasley’s Girlfriend for helping me out (a lot) on my latest adventure into JK Rowling’s turf, I don’t know where I’d be without her editing skills and helpful hints. This was an introductory chapter and I admit it had a lot of fluff in it, but don’t worry, I’ll build the plot up in future chapters. Thanks for reading and please review! (Oh, and the title roughly translates to "to heal through fire". It’ll come into play later. It’s in Latin for no apparent reason, I just thought it’d be cool to have a Latin title.)