Funeral

The last rays of sunset slowly faded, and the sky and world gradually darkened. Candles and torches were lit throughout the Castle, their dim yellow light shining through the glass windows.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron crouched down to peer closely at the Felix Felicis in the bottle. Golden motes floated and danced in the clear liquid, crystal-bright and dazzlingly beautiful.

Descriptions of Felix Felicis's effects surfaced in his mind, and vague, shapeless ideas gradually began to brew—like passing his Apparition test, or leading the team to win the House Cup...

He looked at Harry beside him and could not help asking again:

"Have you really thought this through?"

"Of course."

"Aren't you saving it for later?"

"Is there anything more important than his memory?"

Harry's expression was resolute. After his last attempt had failed, he had come up with the idea of using Felix Felicis to coax out the memory, but he had never found the right opportunity. When Loren handed him Hagrid's note and told him about Aragog's funeral, he had vaguely felt that the time had come.

Loren sat opposite him, his eyes flickering as he asked the same question. "Have you really thought this through?"

"?"

Harry looked at him in confusion. Why was everyone asking that?

"I mean, have you thought through your purpose for using Felix Felicis? Is it to learn about Horcruxes, or to coax Professor Slughorn's memory out of him?"

"Is there a difference?"

"I have some doubts about how Felix Felicis works. Does it accomplish the short-term goal you have in mind, or does it point you toward a more distant destination?"

Miss Know-It-All looked up at that as well, her gaze curious. She was holding a book and reading about Felix Felicis, though she had nearly memorized it already.