Episode Thirty Seven
Part Two

Harry had never slept more soundly. It was as if the trance was merely a dream at the beginning of a night of deep sleep and he slumbered beautifully. Gwen lay curled under his arm, her feverish brain trying to work out the clues the fey had set for her.

If this was a vision, a clue for her and she was finally using her powers to see... She was in a grave danger. There was no denying it. Between Harry's dream and the vision of the fey, Gwen was going to end up nearly dead and if she wasn't careful maybe even really dead.

She needed to seek out Gemma's council once again. Perhaps she would have a clue as to why the Stag King would concern himself with Gwen's well-being. When the sun rose she ventured downstairs to dress. She found herself sliding into McGonagall's office quietly, expecting to find it empty. "Aunt Minerva?" She said when she noticed the older woman sitting at her desk, already hard at work.

McGonagall looked up sharply from her stack of parchments. School hadn't yet begun, but she was making notes and lesson plans for her own sanity. Once school began and she took on her duties as Deputy Headmistress it was impossible to sit and have a moment to herself.

"Can I help you Guenivere?"

"Yes. I need to see my great-grandmother again."

McGonagall peered at her scrupulously. "For what reason?"

"Well, it has something to do with Harry's dream and a vision I had. I know you don't believe in divination, but I'm telling you, I'm never wrong. I might be in danger and Gemma might be able to help me."

"Very well." McGonagall said. She knew very well that her goddaughter was in danger. There was little else she could do to protect her with the exception of keeping her on grounds and keeping a sharp eye on her. "I will escort you to the forest."

"Thank you, but I don't need..." She stopped short as she noticed the look McGonagall was sending her. "Of course. Is 11 o'clock ok?"

"That will be fine. In the meantime I suggest you eat something; you look pale."

Gwen smiled ruefully. Minerva did a fine impression of her mother.

Part Three

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