Author's Note: Happy New Year's everyone! Since you guys had to wait for the last chapter for so long, I thought the best way to make up for it was to get this chapter out as quick as I could, so here it is. Merci beaucoup as always to my betas, Nitya and Kalie. Here's hoping everyone has a wonderful 2005.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE LETTER
Sun shined through the window in the boys' dormitory the next morning, causing Harry to rouse and groan in irritation. He had been having a nice dream about a picnic he was sharing with a brown-haired girl whose face he could never fully see. He was very curious as to whom this person was and he was getting very close to finding out when the bright light of the sun awoke him. He rolled over and tried as hard as he could to fall back to sleep.
"Harry, wake up! We've got to go to class!" Ron said loudly.
Harry groaned again. Why did it have to be Monday?
"Come on, mate, up!" Ron said again.
Harry flung back his covers and muttered, "I'm up, I'm up," before stretching.
"You've only got five minutes before breakfast, so get moving okay? I'll see you down in the Great Hall," Ron said as Harry shuffled out of bed.
"Yeah, okay," he said sleepily as Ron turned and left. Harry felt very tempted to collapse back onto his bed and try to dream about that picnic again, but instead he moved over to his trunk and pulled out a pair of school robes before getting dressed.
Ten minutes later, he slumped into the Great Hall and sat down next to Ron as Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet.
"Anything interesting?" he asked Hermione, gesturing to the paper in her hands.
"Not really, unless you count this ridiculous article by Rita Skeeter on how Voldemort might be funding his army," she replied.
"Oh? What does that she-devil have to say?" Ron asked over his bowl of cereal.
Hermione sat the paper down so that Harry and Ron could see as she read along:
You-Know-Who and His Monetary Sources
You-Know-Who has quite the large army, Aurors say-an army full of wizard soldiers (called Death Eaters), vampires, dementors of Azkaban, and even perhaps giants (writes Rita Skeeter). What Aurors don't tell us is how You-Know-Who is paying all of them. Surely the vampires, dementors, and giants would not work for free. What has You-Know-Who offered them? Perhaps he has offered the vampires and giants plenty of human snacks, which seems reasonable for them. Perhaps he has offered souls to the dementors, which would obviously bring them in his favor, but what about his soldiers? Surely they are not there out of desire. They must be there to make gold, but how?
It is my firm conclusion that a Gringotts worker under You-Know-Who's control is smuggling gold out from the safest bank in the world and giving it to You-Know-Who and with that money, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gaining power. But who could possibly be the Gringotts worker under his control?
"The goblins," curse breaker Jeremiah Palmer told this reporter last week. "They control all the money."
Could the goblins be working for You-Know-Who? They have always known to be anti-wizard and it seems very likely that they would do whatever they could to annihilate the wizarding race.
"We've got to do something about those little buggers," Palmer said. "They could be the ones killing us next."
This reporter believes it is time the Ministry took a look into this.
"Goblins?" Harry murmured. "She thinks goblins are funding Voldemort?"
"She's just trying to discriminate against them," Hermione said furiously. "Anybody with a brain knows that Voldemort gets his money from his supporters, who pay him out of fear."
"It's completely bullocks," Ron agreed. "Bill's told me loads of times that goblins would never align with You-Know-Who because they're too smart and would see right past his lies."
"I bet the rest of the world believes her though," Hermione said darkly.
"Yeah," Ron said. "There'll be a story in tomorrow's paper about Fudge deciding to investigate." He rolled his eyes.
Harry sighed. "Well, at least she's writing about the war now and not slandering innocent people."
"Voldemort's bigger news right now," Hermione muttered. "I'd bet that if you were to get tossed back into the spotlight, Harry, she'd write some horrible story about you."
"Let her. We'll see how much I care," Harry replied, finishing off his cereal.
"That's the spirit, Harry," Ron said with a grin.
Hermione rolled her eyes and checked her watch. "Come on, we'd better hurry up or we'll be late for class. I don't know about you, but I really enjoyed the last class. Human-"
"Hermione, please don't," Ron murmured as the three got up from the Gryffindor table, grabbed up their bags, and walked out of the Great Hall. "I don't want to hear the words 'enjoy' and 'class' in the same sentence for at least a week."
Hermione sighed. "If you possessed a love of learning you would understand where I'm coming from."
"This is why I'm seriously surprised the Sorting Hat decided against putting you in Ravenclaw," Ron said as they climbed the marble stairs. "You're as much of a homework-hugger as the rest of them."
"Which isn't a bad thing," Harry amended for Ron, before Hermione could say anything.
"No, it's not as bad as being a power-hungry jackal, like the Slytherins," Ron said. "Could you imagine the Sorting Hat thinking about putting you in there?"
Harry tensed slightly and frowned. He remembered, quite clearly, the day he was sorted and how the Sorting Hat had considered placing him in Slytherin. It was one of the secrets he held deep inside him that he never wanted Ron or Hermione to know.
"Not all Slytherins are bad, Ron," Hermione was saying. "Blaise Zabini for example-he seems like an okay person."
Ron frowned. "That's one bloke who has his ambitions. What about the others? Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson, Bulstrode, Nott, Montague, Bletchley…loads of them!"
Hermione frowned but didn't say anything. It was apparent that Ron had made his point. Ron must have seen it too, for he said, "There, you see?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You didn't prove your point, Ron."
Ron gaped. "Yes I did!"
"No, you didn't."
"Oh yes, I did."
"No, you most certainly did not."
"Y-"
"Let it go, Ron," Harry muttered.
Ron scowled. He refused to speak to either Harry or Hermione until Defense Against the Dark Arts class, when Lupin said, "I've got excellent news! I was able to attain a boggart in a trunk. We can now practice our Patronus Charms properly."
Ron gulped. "Properly?" he whispered to Harry.
"It'll be alright," Harry murmured. "That thing will have to be a dementor, not a spider."
"Oh great, that helps me so much," Ron muttered sourly.
"Harry, if you would come up here, please?" Lupin called.
Harry got up and walked to the front of the classroom, where Lupin pulled him aside. "Yes, Professor?"
"Do you still fear dementors above all else?" he asked quietly.
"Well…I'm not sure. I don't really think so. I know I can defeat them, after all, but they still do creep me out sometimes," he admitted. "I don't like the feeling they give me."
"I don't blame you," Lupin said. "I need you to do me a favor, Harry. I need you to focus on your fear of dementors and I'd like you to stand close to that trunk next to my desk, okay? A dementor must come out of that trunk every time, so everyone can practice."
Inwardly, he was groaning. "Okay," he murmured.
"Great! Thank you, Harry! I'll have a block of chocolate standing by, don't worry," Lupin said as Harry walked over next to the trunk.
"Harry here will be standing next to the trunk, ensuring that a dementor comes out every time," Lupin announced to the class. "Now, who would like to go-"
"What? Is Potter's greatest fear a dementor?" Malfoy said, sniggering.
"Fearing a dementor is nothing to snicker at, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin said coolly. "A dementor is fear, and by fearing it most, you show that you fear nothing as much as you fear fear itself. Not Death Eaters, not Dark Lords."
There was a slight murmuring throughout the class after Lupin has said that, all of which ceased when Lupin asked, "Who will go first?"
No one wanted to go, it was obvious. Everyone in the class sat rigidly in their seats, staring at the trunk next to Lupin's desk. Finally, Ron raised his hand slightly.
"Excellent. Thank you, Ron," Lupin said with a smile. "Don't worry, it won't be that bad. This isn't a real dementor after all."
It was apparent by the look on Ron's face that he did not find that at all comforting, but he got up just the same and stood in front of the trunk, his wand in his hands.
"Go ahead and summon a happy thought," Lupin said. "Take your time."
Ron sighed and Harry silently prayed. Please let him produce a Patronus, please! He didn't want Ron to flounder; he didn't want all of the Slytherins to laugh like they did at Neville the previous week. He wanted Ron to succeed.
"Have your happy thought?" Lupin asked and Ron reluctantly nodded. "Very well then. Harry, if you could open the trunk?"
Harry stepped forward and undid the latch before pulling open the lid and stepping back as the huge form of a dementor floated up out of the trunk. Ron inhaled sharply.
Concentrate, Harry thought at Ron. Concentrate!
The dementor loomed in front of Ron, sucking all of the warmth out of the room. Harry could see Ron turning pale. "Come on, say it," Harry whispered under his breath.
Ron raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" Whips of a silver substance drifted up from the end of his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" he yelled, more forcefully. The substance solidified somewhat. "Expecto Patronum!" More of the silver gas shot out of the end, causing the dementor to pause slightly.
"Concentrate harder," Harry whispered.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Ron bellowed and suddenly a silver seal erupted from the tip of his wand and floated towards the dementor, causing it to back away, back into the trunk, where Harry and Lupin pushed the trunk lid down, trapping the boggart inside.
Harry turned back to Ron and placed a hand on his shoulder as they both watched the seal float around the room and fade. "That was fantastic, Ron," Harry said, grinning.
"Very much so," Lupin said, also grinning as he held out a chunk of chocolate. "Ten points to Gryffindor."
Ron accepted the chocolate, his face still pale. "Thanks," he said weakly and sat back down.
*****
The next afternoon, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Quidditch team were pulling on their Quidditch robes for their first day of practice since Harry called it off nearly a month prior. He knew that they would be rusty, but he was ready to work, in hopes that would be ready for the Hufflepuff match, which was more than a month away. Plenty of time to get back into shape, in Harry's opinion. Ron, however, seemed to disagree.
"We're going to need to practice every single day to get back into shape," he said as they walked out onto the pitch, carrying the crate. "Today won't be pleasant. There's going to be a lot of rough spots."
"I know," Harry said calmly as a chilling wind howled. Ahead of him, he saw Katie shiver. "We'll be fine."
"D'you really think so?"
Harry looked at him for a moment. "Yes. We'll be as good, if not better, than we were before. I want the Quidditch Cup."
Ron nodded. "Good."
On the field, Harry was sad, but not surprised, to see that Ron was correct. The two that were the rustiest were his Beaters, Alex McGuire and Andrew Kirke. Andrew missed a Bludger that nearly knocked Ginny right off her broom.
"Careful Andrew!" Harry yelled, flying by. "We don't want to kill our goal scorers!"
Andrew looked rather sheepish as he flew away. Over by the goal posts, Ron hovered in front of them as the Chasers did conversions and tried to score. Ron was doing very well-not showing many signs of being rusty at all-blocking several of the difficult shots.
"You'll have to try better than that!" he taunted as Ginny tried to score against him.
"Sod off, Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she called back.
"Wench!"
"Baboon!"
"Ah, siblings," Katie murmured with a grin as she pulled up alongside Harry. "I just wanted to let you know, Harry, to keep your eyes and ears sharp for information about the boys versus girls Quidditch match. If you don't make the boys' team, I'll be highly surprised, because Malfoy and Summerby have nothing on you."
Harry grinned. "Thanks."
An hour later, Harry called it quits. "Good practice today. We need to work on some stuff though. We'll do that Thursday."
By the time Harry, Ron, and Ginny made it back to the castle, it was dinnertime. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, talking to, surprisingly, Luna Lovegood. Ron groaned.
"Thank you, Hermione," she said vaguely as they drew nearer. "Hello Ronald. Good practice?"
"Er-"
"I wasn't bad. How are you, Luna?" Ginny asked.
"Very good," she replied and looked wistfully over at her own table. "I better get back. See you later."
"What did she want?" Ron asked moodily when he sat down next to Hermione.
"She wanted to know what time the prefect meeting was Friday night," Hermione answered airily.
"Prefect meeting? There's a prefect meeting Friday night?"
"Yes. If you had gone to the last one, you would know," Hermione said testily, scooping up some mashed potatoes and plopping them down on her plate. "Honestly, you act as though it will kill you to go to one."
"Who knows, it just might," Ron said, dishing up some meatloaf. "I have better things to do then to be bored for hours on end."
"Like what?"
"Quidditch practice," Ron replied.
Hermione looked over at Harry. "You've scheduled practice for Friday evening?"
"I-er-OW!" He glared at Ron, who had just stamped on his foot, hard. "I was thinking about it."
Hermione frowned. "Nice try, Ron."
He groaned. "Come on, Hermione. Don't make me go."
"I can't make you do anything. I'm not your mother," she said.
"Thank God," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
Hermione scowled. "You're impossible!"
Ron gave a sardonic grin. "Thank you."
Hermione gave a growl of frustration and lapsed into silence. Ron, apparently happy, turned to Harry and started to talk about Quidditch, but Harry wasn't paying much attention to him. He instead was watching Hermione, wishing there was something he could do to make her less upset and to not make Ron upset in the process. Sometimes he hated being the friend in the middle.
*****
After dinner, he felt like he was in the middle again, only this time it was between two different people.
"You went off and got yourself a new boyfriend quick enough!" Dean Thomas yelled at Ginny. "Is that why you broke up with me?"
"Oh, you're going to pin this on me when it's you who acted I was like your mother! You are insufferable!" Ginny snarled.
"I never treated you like my mother!" Dean retorted.
"Yeah right! Letters every week over the summer! Always forcing me to focus my attention on you!" Ginny screamed.
"What's so wrong with writing to my girlfriend over the summer?" he snapped back.
"You were smothering me!" she said.
"You're afraid to commit," Dean spat. "I wonder how Finch-Fletchley deals with you."
And suddenly, Ginny slapped him and called him something rather unpleasant before stalking away. Dean touched his cheek and looked around. There were several people in the common room, all staring at him. "Oh sod off, all of you!" he muttered and stomped away to the boys' dormitories.
Harry heard Colin Creevey say to his younger brother Dennis not too far away, "Note to self: Never piss Ginny Weasley off." Harry couldn't more heartily agree.
Another fifth year boy was saying to his friend, "You know, I think Dean's cool and all, but go Ginny."
Hermione was frowning. "It's a shame. Dean is an attentive boyfriend, but Ginny's far too independent to be saddled for too long."
"He was smothering her," Ron said, also frowning.
"Probably not, but to Ginny, he was. Oh well," she murmured and walked away.
Ron turned to Harry, who shrugged. "I hate it when she does that."
*****
The next morning, Harry woke up bright and early; the first thing coming to his mind was the fact that the D.A. meeting was to happen that night. Again he felt the familiar nervous jolt shoot through his stomach and he lay in bed, quietly pondering what he could teach that night. Finally, when he settled on something, he rolled out of bed and got dressed. Then, checking his watch, he decided to go down to the Great Hall so he could get an early start on his day. But when he reached the top of the marble staircase, he heard two familiar voices that made him stop.
"I am deeply surprised that you are telling me this, Firenze," came the voice of Albus Dumbledore.
"It is a thank you for continuing to give me shelter as my own kind will no longer," Firenze replied. "Even though I am no longer teaching the students here how to properly interpret the stars."
"The honor is more mine," Dumbledore said. "So you have seen this in the stars?"
"Yes. Mars is particularly visible. It is certain. There will be much more bloodshed throughout this land," Firenze said gravely.
"Did perhaps the stars tell you where?" Dumbledore asked.
"No. The stars do not give such information, but it is soon," Firenze replied.
Harry knew that Dumbledore was frowning. "Thank you very much, Firenze."
Firenze said nothing, but Harry heard the distinct clip-clop of him walking away. Harry waited a minute or so in order for enough time to pass so that it would not seem that he had overheard the conversation before walking down the marble stairs. Dumbledore was gone.
Harry entered the deserted Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table before burying his face in his hands and brooding. Eventually, about a half-hour later, he was interrupted when Joaquin Crow walked into the Great Hall.
"Mr. Potter, once again you are up early," Crow said, tilting his head to the side. "Are you that hungry?"
Harry actually chuckled somewhat. "No. I just needed someplace quiet."
Crow looked around. "The Great Hall? This is not a place one usually finds quiet." He walked over and sat down next to Harry. "What is troubling you, mi chico?"
Harry frowned. "Have you ever thought, as an Auror, that you may die in this war?"
Crow also frowned. "Everyone can die in this war-Aurors, wizards, Muggles, Death Eaters…There is no certainty who will live and who will die."
"Are you afraid to die?" Harry asked him.
Crow placed a hand on his shoulder in a rather fatherly manner. "Are you?" he countered.
"No," Harry said defiantly, making Crow grin.
"It's okay to be afraid of death, I think. A nice dose of it keeps you on your toes, no?" His grin grew wider.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You sound rather brave. How come you weren't in Gryffindor?"
Crow laughed. "Those fools who love bravado? Er-no offense."
Harry laughed. "None taken."
Crow shook his head. "I enjoyed learning. I liked having the ability have a few small tricks up my sleeve when needed. Ravenclaw is a fine House."
"They're all fine Houses," Harry said, but then added, "Except for perhaps Slytherin."
Crow laughed, his eyes full of mirth. "Slytherins are not as bad as you think, Mr. Potter. I knew quite a few of them during my days here-knew them well."
"You had Slytherin friends?"
"Sí. If you can get over their competitive natures, they can become very good friends," Crow told him.
"I somehow find that unbelievable," Harry murmured. "From what I've seen they're more prone to backstabbing than being best mates."
"I find that Slytherins aren't so trusting, but once you gain their trust, you won't find so much 'backstabbing,' as you put it," Crow said.
He grinned again. "So, I hear your Defense club is meeting again this evening."
Harry nodded. "Yes, in Professor Lupin's room."
"I may have to drop by for a little while to see how good of a teacher you are. Your dueling skills are, around here, legendary." He smirked. "You've taken on full-grown wizards…Death Eaters…"
"Not by choice," Harry retorted. "It was out of necessity."
One of the Auror's cultured eyebrows arched. "Yes, I do look forward to watching you this evening." He looked up to see the first trickle of students walking into the Great Hall. "Well, I must be on my way-can't be late to my morning meeting. Adiós."
"Adiós," Harry replied, grinning.
*****
The day went on without incident and soon Harry found himself walking up with Ron and Hermione to Professor Lupin's classroom after dinner, ready to introduce a new spell to his "students." Harry cringed-he didn't like thinking about them as his students.
"You okay, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"What? Oh-I'm fine," Harry assured her with a slight smile as they reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor.
When they reached the classroom, Ron pulled open the door and they stepped inside to see Crow and Frost standing in the middle of the room talking in what seemed to be forcefully calm voices.
"You understand that this group you're so interested in seeing was illegal last year," Frost was saying.
"But it's not this year, Mara. Professor Lupin supervises the club. It's quite legal," Crow replied.
"It's stupid," Frost spat. "These children will think they're trained well enough to take on Death Eaters, and only Aurors are trained well enough-" She abruptly cut herself off when she noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione standing at the door. "You're early," she said sharply.
Harry looked down at his watch and, with a jolt, saw that the face was glowing red. "Just a little," he replied, trying to keep his cool.
Crow rushed forward with a jovial smile. "Come in, Mr. Potter. Mara and I were just having a little discussion about the D.A."
"I heard," Harry replied snidely.
Crow put an arm around him and ushered him inside, Ron and Hermione following along behind them. "Mara likes keeping things legal," Crow explained. "She doesn't want to put any of you in danger either." He dropped his arm.
Frost came up next to him. "What will you show them this evening?" she asked.
"Er-the Full Body Bind and the Leg-Locker Curse," Harry replied.
"I hope that you'll have cushions for the people who fall," Frost said disdainfully.
"I can help you there, Mr. Potter," Crow said happily and took out his wand before waving it around. Suddenly, several plump purple cushions appeared.
Harry smiled. "Thanks!"
"De nada," Crow replied. "Now, Mara, don't you have to go patrol?"
Frost scowled. "You do too, so don't take too long socializing."
He gave a slight bow. "Do not worry; I won't be here for long."
Frost gave one final icy look at Harry before turning on her heel and walking out the door. Ron shivered. "That woman gives me the creeps."
Crow laughed. "You're not the only one, Mr. Weasley. Mara is very…"
"Bitchy?" Ron finished for him.
Crow laughed again. "I could never say that about a colleague."
"It's okay-we won't tell," Ron said, grinning.
"Won't tell what?" came Lupin's voice from the doorway.
"Oh, nothing serious, Professor," Harry said, also grinning.
"Mr. Crow," Lupin greeted. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your esteemed company?"
"I have come to watch Mr. Potter conduct his D.A. lessons. I find them rather fascinating," Crow replied.
"If I recall, you were never one who particularly loved the Dark Arts, which was why I was very surprised to hear that you became an Auror," Lupin said.
"Not the Dark Arts, but the defense against them," Crow said as students began to file into the room. "All wizards should know how to defend themselves."
Lupin smiled. "I couldn't agree more." He turned to Harry. "Well, it's all yours. Teach them."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said and took his place in the front of the room, watching as people walked in. Ginny walked in with Luna Lovegood…Neville with Seamus and Dean…Lavender and the Patil twins…Hunter, Ally, Dylan, and their friend Laura…Siobhan Cassidy…
Harry frowned. Where was Siobhan's older sister, Sinead? He was surprised to see the younger sister all alone, considering how much Sinead wanted to come to the meeting.
He pushed his thoughts aside as everyone looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat. "Good evening," he greeted them. "Tonight I thought it would be good to learn both the Leg-Locker Curse and the Full Body Bind. Both can be useful in a duel. So, partner up. We'll start with the Leg-Locker Curse. The incantation is 'Locomotor Mortis.' And, to show you how it works...Hermione, would you come here please?"
Hermione looked rather nervous, but she walked up to the front just the same. "Yes?"
"Hermione's going to demonstrate the Leg-Locker Curse by using it on me," Harry said before turning towards her.
Hermione's eyes widened before she took out her wand and sighed. "Locomotor Mortis!" she cried and instantly Harry felt his legs spring together. He fought to keep balance.
"You see? A perfect Leg-Locker Curse. Now go ahead and try it yourselves," he instructed and then muttered, "If you would, Hermione?"
She waved her wand and his legs snapped apart again. "Better?"
"Much. Thank you," he said with a grin.
He went around the room, watching and correcting people trying the curse. The cushions Crow had provided were very useful as several people toppled over, unable to keep their balance.
Crow walked over to Harry, grinning. "This is very good. I am impressed. Sadly, I must go now. Enjoy the rest of the meeting."
"Oh, I'm sure we will. Thanks for dropping by," Harry said, also grinning.
Harry finished off the evening teaching everyone the Full Body Bind, something that went over much better than Harry had expected. Then, with smiles on their faces, everyone filed out, saying good-bye to Harry as they went.
"That was rather productive," Ron commented as he and Hermione joined Harry. Ron was rubbing his shoulder. "Neville got me good."
"Neville's gotten good," Hermione replied.
Harry nodded and stuck his hands inside his robe pockets and got quite the shock, which obviously showed on his face. "What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked.
Harry turned. "See you later, Professor!" he called and began to walk quickly to the door.
"Bye you three," Lupin called, waving.
In the corridor, Harry pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket. "What's that?" Ron asked.
"I dunno. I didn't put it in my pocket," Harry said, opening it up. He read it quickly and felt his stomach plummet and his face pale.
"Harry?"
"Oh God," Harry whispered, looking at the parchment.
"What?"
"It's a letter," Harry breathed, "from Voldemort."
Ron and Hermione looked at each other for a moment before rushing over to read the letter in Harry's hands.
Potter,
You have disappointed me greatly. I would have expected more out of a "hero," but it is obvious that you are no hero. Either that or you are stupider than I thought. I thought that you would care a little more about that pathetic Mudblood girl that died, but obviously you don't. Maybe my attack on you during your Quidditch match has addled your tiny brain. No matter, we shall see if you care. At 9:00 sharp, another pathetic Mudblood will be stabbed by my faithful servant. Find her-and save her-if you can.
"Oh God," Hermione breathed. "No-it can't be…"
Harry was thinking frantically. "Ron-go to the dormitory and get the Marauder's Map. Use it to find us."
"Right," Ron said, running.
"Hermione-if you were to murder someone in this school, where would you go to do it?" Harry asked.
"I dunno-er-the dungeons?"
"Right. Let's try there," Harry said, checking his watch. 8:55.
He and Hermione took off, running as fast as they could, down corridors, down stairs, and through shortcuts until they were finally running along in the dungeons. Harry glanced at his watch again. 8:59.
"Which one?" he growled, fear rising into his heart.
And suddenly, he heard a scream that made his blood chill. He automatically glanced at this watch. 9:00. "No!" he breathed.
"This way, Harry!" Hermione called, running. They turned a corner and ran.
"Which door?" Harry cried when they reached the end of the hall.
"I don't know!"
"Try all of them!" he ordered, turning the first doorknob. It was locked. He growled. "Alohomora!" he cried and suddenly, the knob turned and the door opened. Nothing.
Behind him, Hermione had her wand out and she shouted, "Alohomora!" Harry turned. "Nothing," she groaned.
Harry turned to the final door. He pulled out his wand.
"Harry," Hermione whispered, "what if the attacker's still in there?"
Harry paused. "You take left and I'll take right," Harry said before shouting, "Alohomora!" The door unlocked and Harry kicked it open, turning to the right and scanning the room in the dim lighting, but no one was there, save one, a girl lying on the floor, blood surrounding her. Harry dropped his wand and rushed over to her side and, with horror, immediately recognized her.
"Sinead," he murmured. She was still breathing; she was still alive.
Her eyes, so cloudy looking, looked up at him. "Harry," she gasped.
"Hermione! Go get help!" Hermione was gone in a blink of an eye. "Who did this to you?"
"I don't…" Her breath was becoming more labored. "I…don't…know."
"Where did your attacker go?" Harry asked.
"I…don't…know. Left."
"But we didn't see anybody on the way down," Harry murmured. "What did your attacker look like?"
"Don't…know…wore a…mask."
"Do you remember anything?"
She coughed. "The eyes…such…blue…eyes." She gave a shuddering gasp as her eyes rolled into the back of her head.
"Sinead, no! Stay with me!" he cried, clutching her hand, but it was too late, he knew. He placed his fingers on her neck and felt nothing. "Dammit!" He let her hand go and placed his head in his hands.
He should have been there in time to save her. It was his fault that she was dead-Voldemort had her murdered because of him. It was his fault.
There were footsteps coming his way. Suddenly, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin and Snape were there along with Madam Pomfrey, Ron, and Hermione. He heard both Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey gasp.
"She's dead," Harry said quietly, in a voice not his own.
Madam Pomfrey rushed over, as if to confirm it for herself.
"Did she mention anything about her attacker before she died?" Dumbledore asked.
"She couldn't see him," Harry replied, his voice dead. "He wore a mask."
He could tell that the other professors were looking at each other in alarm. "How did you know she was down here?" Snape asked.
Harry felt suddenly angry. "What does it matter? I was too late to save her." He then looked directly at Dumbledore. "I told you I wasn't any better than him. I can't stop him." Then, without another glance any of them, Harry fled. He didn't even notice Ron and Hermione follow him.
"Harry, wait!" Hermione called.
He stilled, feeling anger and guilt tear through his body. Hermione came to his side, as did Ron. "Harry…" Hermione began.
"I killed her," Harry whispered fiercely. "She's dead because of me. I killed her."
"Harry, no…"
He looked down at his hands and felt sickened to see the blood on them. With a strangled cry, he ran away as fast as he could-away from Ron and Hermione, away from the dungeons, away from the horror he had just seen until he found himself running in front of the same stretch of wall on the seventh floor three times, when a door appeared. He opened it up and ran inside, before collapsing on the floor and letting his anguish and guilt consume him.