“Hermione, what’s that you’re crocheting?” Harry asked, looking over at the lacy mass of yarn filling Hermione’s lap. She held it up to display a deep, wide shawl filled with clusters of what looked like saucer-shaped flowers.

“Whoa!” Ron exclaimed. “I know what that is – that’s The Elderflower Shawl! Mum used to read the pattern to me as a bedtime story – it’s in The Patterns of Beedle the Bard. A seriously WICKED pattern!”

“How can a crochet pattern be wicked?” Harry asked.

“Well, there are spells and enchantments woven throughout the instructions,” Ron replied. “And it’s got dangerously advanced stitches – trebles and half-trebles! According to Mad-Eye: ‘stitches well beyond the talents of a 4th Year…’”

“Wow” said Harry, looking at Hermione in awe. (So far, he and Ron had only mastered single crochet and chain stitches.)

“Professor Sprout says Elder Trees have special healing powers. Herbologists use the berries to brew infusions to relieve pain, and as a remedy for colds and the flu,” Neville spoke up. “They say planting an Elder Tree by the front door can keep evil spirits from entering the house - and sheltering under an Elder Tree in a storm can protect you from lightning,” he added, staring nervously over at the lightning bolt-shaped scar on Harry’s forehead.

“But the stems are wicked toxic! Come in handy for brewing our Puking Pastilles…” Fred and George chimed in. “Seriously evil pattern though – three different sections, all with a variable number of repeat rows!”

Harry’s forehead began to throb, and he asked “Variable? But how would you know when to stop repeating the rows? What if by mistake you just kept going?”

“That happened to a witch my grandmother knew when she was at Hogwarts,” Neville piped up. “Couldn’t bring herself to stop crocheting the Third Section.”

“What happened to her?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Over fifty years now and Gran says she’s still crocheting that last section. Keeps running out on the last repeat and having to order more yarn by Owl Post– then she decides to start another repeat! Those last rows can eat a lot of yarn…”

Harry shook his head, imagining a half-century game of Yarn Chicken…

“But they say if you stand under an Elder Tree at Samhain you might see the Faery King – and he could grant you a boon,” Neville concluded, eyes shining.

“Yeah, we tried that one year - hoping to get Mum a House Elf for her birthday. But all we got was a yard full of Garden Gnomes…” said Fred in disgust.

“So what are we going to do with The Elderflower Shawl?” asked Ron.

“WE?” Hermione demanded.

“I’m just saying,” Ron continued, “that’s The Elderflower Shawl! The most powerful shawl in the world. With that, we’d be invincible… or maybe we could just hide from You-Know-Who under it – like an Invisibility Cloak!”

“Look” Hermione said. “You’ve got it all wrong. The shawl’s power isn’t in spells and enchantments. Or in the Elder Tree’s magical and medicinal properties. And it’s not dangerous or difficult - the instructions are clear. There are a few trebles and half-trebles, but they’re explained – and besides, it’s fully charted!”

“And it’s not wicked or evil,” she continued, looking over at Ron. “Why do you think your Mum used to read it to you as a bedtime story? It contains the magic inherent in all knitting and crochet patterns – the power to relax and soothe a troubled soul in times of stress and fear.”

“It’s true the repeat rows can be potentially problematic to an indecisive mind, but to prevent enchantment you can just make yours exactly like the model shown in the pictures.” She looked over at Harry, who was visibly shaking with fear, then gently placed the shawl in his lap and the crochet hook in his hand.

“No!” Harry cried. “I’m not ready for this! I don’t even know double crochets yet!”

“You can do this, Harry,” Hermione said soothingly. “I’m on the Bottom Edge, which is just single crochets and chain stitches. Just trust the pattern and let it guide you!”

Harry nervously clutched the hook in his hand, inserted it into the waiting loop, and began to read the pattern on page 13 where Hermione was pointing.

“…then climb the hill with sc in dc, sc in ch-sp…” he muttered, as if chanting an incantation to ward off evil. And as he crocheted, the hook’s rhythmic motions began draining the anxiety from his mind, relaxing the tension in his body, and soothing the throbbing pain in his forehead. He had a strong feeling that through time and space the author of the pattern was wishing him well…

He looked up at Hermione and – for the first time in weeks - smiled. “You’re right, Hermione - I don’t feel afraid anymore. I can do this!”