Shadow of the Dark Fortress (Part 1)

Triggy

Rating: PG13
Genres: Action & Adventure, Suspense
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 26/07/2004
Last Updated: 27/07/2004
Status: completed

Voldemort builds a terrible fortress christened the "Xanthius" to project more terror to the Wizard World. ACT 1: "Fugitives of the Ministry" - Ron is accused of the murder attempt on Dumbledore. There is a much deeper and more sinister plot than meets the eye. Harry and Hermione do all they can not only to save their best friend, but they will also have to fight for their lives.

Chapters

1. Act 1 Begins: Fugitives of the Ministry

2. Rons Big Mistake

3. Like He is Dead

4. Hunches and Triggers

5. Emergency Decisions

6. Daedalus, Graham, and Maximus

7. The Second Attempt

8. The Hidden Object

9. Death Eaters at Hogwarts

10. Multiple Choices

11. The Wrong Hero

12. The Pocket Portkey

13. Hermione

14. Ginny

15. For the Love of Ron

16. Ankle Problem

17. The Temptation of Harry

18. Liberty or Death!

19. Norbert and Sarah

20. Feelings Revealed

1. Act 1 Begins: Fugitives of the Ministry

Note from the Author: This story was formerly known as “Fugitives of the Ministry” in Fanfiction.net that I finished writing in 2003. I am incorporating it to a whole story titled “Shadow of the Dark Fortress” and this entry will be subtitled as Act 1. There are three acts planned for the whole story.

The prequel to this trilogy is entitled “The Auror and the Oarling” which can now be found at Portkey (The Fanfiction.net entry for the story is broken). To the interested reader, please check out that story first before Act 1 (though you can safely read Act 1 without reading through “Auror”. You might just want to read about the details of crucial past events being referred to there). It was my first fic so it was a little rough around the edges so please be warned. Haha.

To the H/Hr crowd, don't worry, this story will be H/Hr and they will end up together. It won't be become apparent until Chapter 19 though. Act 2 is where they will develop their romance.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy the stories!

- Triggy

Prologue

Shadow of the Dark Fortress

Act 1: Fugitives of the Ministry

It was already half past 10 o'clock in the evening when Lucius Malfoy sat down on his favorite armchair in front of the cozy crackling fire in his den, more than an hour late than he usually does every night. He had two pieces of parchment resting on his lap, one them had just been delivered by an owl. He had been anticipating a message tonight, but he calmly left the new mail unopened while he leisurely took out a stick of cigar from his drawer. Though he despised Muggles and their inventions, he liked to smoke cigars and to use what the fools called a “lighter”. In return, he had many Muggle artifacts hidden all around his manor and he enjoyed bewitching them to wreak havoc on the poor Muggles who would be unfortunate to bring them into their homes. He had many ways to do this; how, no one really knew but himself. For him it is a hobby, his second favorite form of entertainment. His best bit was seeing the burnt face of a Muggle fool after a toaster spewed flaming sliced bread that stuck on his face. After all, his most favorite hobby was Muggle torture and he loved to hear the moaning and wailing of suffering Muggles.

Lucius sighed. How he missed the good old days when Lord Voldemort was at the peak of his power - Lucius had free reign to hurt Muggles and Mudbloods as he pleased without the fear of prosecution. But after the Dark Lord's fall, he shamefully disavowed any “wrongdoing” for his actions; luckily the nitwits from the Ministry of Magic subsequently cleared him for lack of evidence. That saved him from isolation and possible death in Azkaban.

For 15 years he hungered for another chance to subject the Cruciatus curse to anyone who stood in his way, or simply whom he fancied to torture. He shared the Lord's hatred for wizards and witches who were not purebloods - Mudbloods. And to get rid of Mudbloods, Muggles must be dealt with, too. He smirked. Now that the Dark Lord's back, he will soon again experience the joy of terrorizing the wizards' world. Like a 12-year old boy again, he could not hide his excitement when he thought of the day when Voldemort will lead him and the Deatheaters to another reign of terror. But Voldemort, after that other embarrassing episode with Harry Potter around a graveyard, had ordered his faithful Deatheaters to stay low for the meantime and wait for another sign from him to gather again and move out. Except for Lucius, he was given a special mission that night by Voldemort, a task he proudly accepted.

At last he opened the parchment that Voldemort sent him about a month ago. Though he knew by heart what he was ordered to do, he felt proud to be reading it again and again - he savored the high of feeling very important. For literally the hundredth time, he read aloud:

Lucius, my servant:

As you very well know, we are actively preparing for the day when we will purge our world of Mudbloods and Mudblood lovers. As I write this, your fellow Deatheaters are secretly paying our friend wizards and witches a few visits. The time will come that those who will not bow down to us will die a horrible death. You are excused from joining your worthless colleagues with what they are doing now, and I have a very important task that I demand you to do for me because you are apparently the perfect person who can deliver me this.

Murder Albus Dumbledore!

Needless to say I must emphasize to you the importance of this mission. Without Dumbledore, no one can stop me from realizing my dream of ruling the wizard world with an iron fist from the halls of Hogwarts, a wizard world free of Mudbloods. All wizards and witches will serve me to the ends of the earth, and with them we will bring along the Muggle world down on their knees - slaves to my perfect world.

Bring me glory, Lucius. You must not fail. I don't care how you do it, but just bring me the body of Dumbledore and you will bring those cowering allies of his the fear of Lord Voldemort! You will be handsomely rewarded for your success.

Lord Voldemort

“Just a matter of time,” Lucius thought as he savored the smoke from his cigar in his mouth. He had been preparing for this, and even though Voldemort was out of action a few years ago, he personally made sure he had at least one connection in Hogwarts who will do his dirty job for him when he opted to. He was now offering this option for Lord Voldemort, and that was what the second parchment was all about.

He untied the ribbon and unrolled the parchment. He was expecting some form of good news from his sleeper, or agent as he liked to think about it, in Hogwarts. After reading the message he was not disappointed.

Dear Sir:

Yes, I am ready, as I always have been, to do the noble task you require me that I am most eager to accept. I am in a perfect position now to repay you for all of your support for my education here. I have been recently elected as Headboy and that will make my job much easier.

Your plan, as always, is perfect. I can promise you that I can throw the blame to a son of Arthur Weasley. I expect that Hogwarts will be chaotic soon after that, but my limited skills in Divination can only take me as far as seeing Harry Potter running away from the school, pursued by the Ministry of Magic. I am sure you have already devised another plan to take advantage of that situation.

I can't express enough how I am honored to be serving you and the Dark Lord.

Your apprentice,

Black Cauldron

Lucius took out a new parchment and dipped his quill in the inkbottle. His reply was short and went to the point.

Black Cauldron,

You may start as soon as you get this message. Ronald Weasley shall be your pawn.

From Your mentor

The owl that delivered Black's message knew that Lucius had finished his letter and stretched out its leg, clasped the rolled parchment, and flew out of the manor.

Lucius leaned back on his comfortable armchair and began to admire himself for having such excellent foresight. Seven years ago he sponsored Jack Chadron (who had secretly christened himself as the Black Cauldron because he loved Professor Snape's potion class) for full financial support in Hogwarts. He saw great potential in the little boy to become a dark wizard and follow his ways - but in reality he put Jack there to be irreversibly indebted to his kindness and be committed in obeying his every command. Jack had sold his soul to Lucius in exchange for tools of his education that his parents - may they rest in pieces - could not afford for him. Of course, Jack's parents Blake and Caulea Chadron were foolish enough to go against Voldemort through the boy's second year that the Dark Lord took their life away in an instant. Though he saw Jack mourn his parents' death under the wand of Voldemort, he remarkably never developed any form of resentment towards him. He accepted the Dark Lord's actions as the inevitable and manifested his loyalty time and time again to the one who could afford his books - Lucius Malfoy. And whomever Lucius Malfoy pledged allegiance to Jack pledged the same, too.

Jack was destined to be placed in Slytherin house. He is a model student, became a prefect in his fifth year, and now, not surprisingly, the new Head Boy of Hogwarts. No one from Slytherin had become Head Boy ever since Tom Marvolo Riddle graduated from Hogwarts. Kids from both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw almost always monopolized the position. Sometimes, with pure luck, a student from Hufflepuff managed to become Head Boy, but not now. Jack is now holding the flag in honor of Slytherin. Dumbledore would never suspect there was a traitor in Hogwarts that held so high a position close enough to murder him.

But he didn't want to waste money and such talent just to send him to Azkaban. Though he knew if he told Jack to jump into a chasm the boy would ask “how deep a chasm do you want?” he had more plans for him yet. In addition to being the one who assured the death of Dumbledore for Lord Voldemort, he would do it in such a way to pay Arthur Weasley back for his daring raid of misused Muggle artifacts at the same time (Lucius had a hard time clearing himself up to pay the most minimum in fines). It was an old personal grudge that needed to be settled. Two birds with one stone. He would pin the blame of Dumbledore's murder on one of Weasley's sons. That will surely give shame to the Weasley family and dump them further into deeper poverty - Arthur will never find another job to support his pathetic family. Then, as an added bonus, he might even kill himself. Lucius mischievously grinned while holding the cigar with his teeth. The possibilities were endless.

Then, there's the question of Harry Potter. Now, what to do with him? Jack wrote about foreseeing the boy wizard running away from Hogwarts after the foreseen chaos. Though he did not fully believe in art of predicting the future, the thought gave him another idea that no planner could ever anticipate. He jotted down on another piece of parchment the names of all available Deatheaters for a meeting in his manor. If ever Jack's vision would be reality, he would score more points with the Dark Lord that will make Pettigrew's hair curl with envy - well, if he still had hair left on his coconut head. Lucius Malfoy will be the one who got Harry Potter to be brought in front of Voldemort. Now, what an honor that would be!

“Honey, don't tell me you've brought in more Muggle gadgets in the manor,” said Mrs. Malfoy from behind him. “I hope you're not bewitching them again. The last time you tried to get rid of something, it opened the Chamber of Secrets and cost you your School Governorship, mind,” she added, her eyes narrowing while she looked coldly at her husband straight in the eye.

“So what's it to you if I do?” Lucius said irritably, returning her stare.

“Haven't you learned your lesson yet? It will give us even more trouble - the Ministry surely won't need reminding of their first warning on us, especially with that brainless git Arthur Weasley still trying to put something on our family…he almost had you then.”

“Hah! Him…he won't be that cocky soon enough,” Lucius said very confidently.

“Ohhh…why is that?” Mrs. Malfoy said, suddenly intrigued.

“That's totally none of your business,” Lucius said flatly.

Furious and not giving in to her husband's constant bossiness, Mrs. Malfoy changed tactics. “What's this rumor going around the Leaky Cauldron you have an illegitimate child studying at Hogwarts? Is this true, Lucius?” she asked, her eyes flaring.

Rather than telling her the whole story, Lucius Malfoy simply stood up and went to bed totally ignoring Mrs. Malfoy's loud protest of not being totally honest with her. Just another night in the Malfoy Manor.

-->

2. Rons Big Mistake

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 1 Ron’s Big Mistake

“Ribbit! Ribbit!” Trevor (Neville Longbottom’s toad) croaked as Argus Filch held him up high with his right hand for Professor Snape to see. His other hand was grasping Ron’s forearm so tightly that the fifth year student grimaced in pain but at the same time Ron was trying to suppress his laughter. Between Trevor and Filch’s palms was some kind of brown muddy substance that oddly looked more like chocolate, and Vincent Crabbe of Slytherin house was spitting madly as if he was desperately ejecting something foul out of his mouth.

“Now tell me what Mr. Weasley did, Filch,” Snape said as some students from the corridor were gathering around them to get a closer look of what’s happening. “I have a good feeling that this will be a good start of my day.”

“This boy here,” Filch replied, jerking his head toward Ron, “did a sick practical joke on Mr. Crabbe. Smeared chocolate on this toad to make it look like a chocolate frog and Mr. Crabbe ate it.” Many students laughed and Vincent’s face turned pink.

“I did not!” Ron said indignantly.

“100 points from Gryffindor and a month’s detention for Mr. Weasley,” Snape sneered as he looked at Ron, who had his jaw dropped at the quick verdict. “Does Mr. Crabbe feel nauseous?”

Crabbe, as if on cue, went down on all fours and pretended to throw up.

“50 more points from Gryffindor for attempting to poison a student,” added Snape. “Someone bring Mr. Crabbe to the hospital wing quickly! I will report this to Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall and see too it that Mr. Weasley gets suspended - or better yet, expelled!”

Someone from behind Snape gasped loudly, and the professor spun slowly to see who made it. The sight of Harry was a pleasant bonus for him. “Ah, Mr. Potter, you’re here for your best friend as expected? Well, better enjoy doing that while it lasts since you won’t be able to see him around here in Hogwarts any longer whatever you do – I will see to that.”

“Now, now, Severus, do you actually believe biting a toad like Trevor is poisonous to anyone?” Dumbledore said while he approached Snape with Jack Chadron, the Head Boy, beside him. “Otherwise, I should have asked Mr. Longbottom to change his pet a long time ago. I take back the 50 points you removed.” Harry breathed a sigh of relief – he was about to point out the same thing to Snape, and knowing him, that would have cost Gryffindor several more points.

“I was quite sure for the moment that this toad’s species were poisonous, Headmaster.”

“Of course you were, Severus, of course you were.” Dumbledore moved closer to Trevor to examine him more closely, but Snape only got a chuckle from him. This irritated the Potions professor very much.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir, I didn’t play a practical joke on Crabbe!” pleaded Ron, hoping that his statement would also regain the hundred points he lost. “Honestly! Please take back the points we lost…”

“Ha! A likely story,” Filch said. “I caught you red-handed, boy!”

“I only happened to pass by –“

Ron stopped talking as he felt a hand slip in his robe’s right pocket.

“Ah, how lucky that you have an advanced Sneakoscope, Mr. Weasley. Made in England. A favorite gadget of Aurors,” Snape sneered maliciously. “I don’t know how you got hold of this regulated object. Let’s see what you’ve been doing!”

“No! Give that back! My uncle gave that to me…”

Ron went pale as Snape put the Sneakoscope on his palm. This kind of Sneakoscope had a special feature than the one Ron gave Harry in their Second year: it spins very fast when someone is doing something untrustworthy against the owner and projects a pre-recorded moving picture of its surroundings. A few people moved closer around Snape’s palm to take a good look at what the gadget had to show, including Dumbledore.

The thing spun loudly and showed Ron melting some real chocolate frogs in a cauldron, and seeing him steal Trevor behind Neville. Then the view abruptly changed where he covered the toad with the melted chocolate. The whole show finished finally with Crabbe spitting.

Dumbledore was tutting loudly. He turned to Ron and with a disappointed look in his face he said, “You were very untruthful, Mr. Weasley, I should have known better of you. Making false witness to the faculty is a serious offense.” Ron couldn’t look at Dumbledore’s eyes as he just stood with his head bowed. “I’ll be personally writing a note to your parents soon.”

Snape seized the opportunity to suggest, “Suspension from this school, Headmaster. I do remember he was previously issued a warning after he shut Draco Malfoy in the dungeon cupboard overnight…” Many students laughed again.

“We’ll see, Severus…”

“That wasn’t me, that was…” Ron started as he began to panic but decided not to tell anyone that Fred and George actually did that to save them from trouble. The Weasley twins already had two months worth of detentions and he didn’t want to add their miseries – even though he knew Fred and George found detentions fun.

“Wanting to tell more lies, Mr. Weasley?” snarled Snape.

The Head Boy Jack Chadron stepped forward. “But, Headmaster, I believe Mr. Weasley’s recent actions are not at all serious,” he said very pompously. “Practical jokes don’t need such action at all.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other in surprise. A Slytherin, defending a Gryffindor?

“Just when did a Head Boy discuss and influence disciplinary actions to a teacher, Mr. Chadron?” Snape spat at Jack. “You are under my house, Head Boy, and you should know better not to contradict your Head of House – me!” If Jack Chadron didn’t happen to be in Slytherin, Snape would have removed points from him on the spot.

Dumbledore waved an impatient hand to stop the argument, and replied patiently to Jack Chadron loud enough to let everyone around a few feet to hear. “Yes, I am aware the practical joke itself is not an issue, but I am displeased that Mr. Weasley here chose to lie rather than admit he masterminded the whole thing. I do not tolerate lies in this school, and that’s why, regrettably, I have to do my job as Headmaster to discipline students who refuse to be responsible of their actions.”

Snape, feeling better again, added, “As I said, Headmaster, suspension is the best action for Mr. Weasley – preferably the rest of the term.”

“We shall see, Severus,” said Dumbledore with mounting annoyance in his voice, “but it’s Professor McGonagall who will decide on how long or what nature of such punishment will be. Severus, give me Mr. Weasley’s Sneakoscope and please inform Minerva to see me in my office tonight three quarters of an hour after the end of dinner.

“Jack,” he said, turning to Chadron, “I believe as Head Boy you’re obliged to witness the meeting.” Dumbledore, however, had a slight tone of regret in his voice.

He turned to Ron. “I will call on you tonight in my office after dinner, Ron, to discuss your future. Harry, I think it’s best if you also be in my office for him, too.”

“I will report to you tonight,” Snape said deliciously. He walked away with a nasty smirk on his face.

As soon as the crown thinned, Ron dropped his books, slumped on the cold floor and sat there, staring at the opposite wall. “I don’t believe it…Dumbledore sounded he’ll…he’ll expel me tonight!”

“You shouldn’t have lied, Ron!” Harry wailed and he, too, sat down on the cold floor rather hard, shaking his head. “You didn’t have to do that…the practical joke wasn’t even an issue for Dumbledore like he said!”

“Mum and Dad…” Ron said with a sudden look of horror in his face. “They’ll kill me when they’d know about this! I’ve got to do something!”

“Do what?” Harry said worrying what drastic measures might be going on inside Ron’s head. “There’s nothing you can do that won’t make everything worse than it is right now!” He was getting alarmed at seeing Ron begin to panic.

“Hermione’s little hourglass necklace? What do you call that? I gotta undo everything during the last hour…”

“She doesn’t have it anymore, Ron – returned it to McGonnagall a year before last – and believe me, I know how it works and you can’t undo what’s already happened.”

“A forgetfullness potion! We could mix up some and lace Dumbledore’s goblet…he might forget about the meeting tonight…”

“Forget it, Ron! Even with an Invisibility Cloak on, Dumbledore can catch anyone under it.” Ron was beginning to hyperventilate, and Harry was getting more worried about his best friend’s sanity. He stood up and held Ron’s arm to help him get up. “C’mon, Ron, let’s go back to the Common Room so you could relax…”

But Ron was too heavy – and he wasn’t even helping to loosen up his weight. Harry panted from all the pulling and decided to sit back down on the floor. “Why did I ever decide to do a thing like that?” Ron groaned.

“Don’t blame yourself, Ron,” said Harry slowly. “You know I hate Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle as much as you and Hermione do and I’d do anything to get back at them.”

“So there you are, both of you,” Hermione Granger, with her new Prefect’s badge pinned on her robe, interrupted as she walked along the corridor towards them. “I’ve been hearing about a silly rumor going around Ron getting suspended…”

One look at Harry’s face proved to her the rumor was true. He told her everything what happened and when he finished, she was on the floor like him and Ron, her books scattered around her.

“Serves you right…” Hermione started, but hastily added when Ron glared at her “but because of Snape you’re getting way too much punishment for a small thing like that. I reckon expulsion is too much – at worse, you’ll only get a suspension.”

“Mum and Dad will kill me…Mum and Dad will kill me…” Ron repeated.

Harry and Hermione just sat there for a few more minutes thinking a way out for Ron, but they couldn’t think of any. They both didn’t want Ron to be suspended or else he’ll repeat another year. That was bad.

“We’d better pay Hagrid a visit,” Hermione suggested. “Maybe he’ll think of something for this.”

“Yeah, good idea,” said Harry. Ron seemed to have thought it was a good idea, too, as he stood up without any need of help from Harry and Hermione.

As they started to walk, Harry saw Jack Chadron accompanied by a Slytherin prefect rounding the corner. The Head Boy stopped to talk to Hermione.

“Hermione, you are to escort Mr. Weasley to the Headmaster’s office a half hour after dinner,” Jack Chadron said. “He asked me a few moments ago to tell you, Mr. Potter, that he changed his mind and he prefers you not to be inside his office tonight. I’m sorry that was all I could do for you back there, Mr. Weasley.” Without waiting for an answer Jack Chadron and the Slytherin prefect walked away and out of sight.

“Dumbledore changed his mind pretty fast,” Harry thought out loud. “I wanted to go with Ron inside his office tonight and hear everything.”

“We can wait outside his office, Harry,” said Hermione. “We could ask Professor McGonagall what they talked about after the meeting. She’ll be around since she’s the Gryffindor Head of House.”

They walked towards Hagrid’s Hut through the cold autumn air, forgetting about lunch. The time to reach Hagrid’s door took longer than usual because Ron was walking very limply that Harry and Hermione had to guide him where they were heading. At last they reached the Hut and they heard Fang’s excited barks.

“Oh, I forgot, it’s lunchtime,” said Hermione, as she knocked on the door. “Hagrid could be in the Great Hall right now…” but they were happy too see him answer the door and get back inside to set up food on his table.

“Com’in, how’d ye know I was gowern’ to invite ye fer lunch?” Hagrid cheerfully said with a wide smile under his bushy black beard.

“Uh, what’s the occasion, Hagrid?” asked Harry.

“Blimey, it’s me birthday, remember?” Hagrid replied, but he didn’t feel bad at all they forgot about his birthday.

Hermione slapped a palm on her forehead. “Oh, how could’ve we forgotten?” Happy Birthday, Hagrid!” she said happily.

“Yeah, sorry about that, Hagrid, Happy Birthday!” said Harry.

“Nah, don’ worry about it…”

“Happy Birthday,” Ron said weakly.

“Oh, I heard about everything, Ron, c’mere, let’s talk about it over lunch.” Hagrid said with concern drawn on his face.

“Does news really fly this fast around Hogwarts, Hagrid?” said Ron disbelievingly.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” said Hagrid, shrugging. “I don’t even know how people here manage ter do that around here te tell yeh the truth…”

He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione examining closely the food on top of his table with funny looks on their faces. Getting the idea, Hagrid said “Er, don’ worry about the food – I didn’ cook ‘em. Conjured straight from the kitchens – Dumbledore does this everytime during my birthday so I don’ have te go ter the Great Hall and he knew I’d have special guests this year… Great man, Dumbledore.”

So Harry, Ron, and Hermione, feeling relieved, happily sat down around the table and placed the humongous table napkins on their lap and got ready for chow. The food was delicious – roast beef, buttered mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, deep fried chicken and lots of sweets – better than what the rest of the school could be eating in the Great Hall right now. Even Ron had completely forgotten about his problem at school when they all merrily ate lunch and laughed as they talked about good times. Hagrid sang an out-of-tune song while he swung his tankard left and right that made the kids sing along with him. Even Fang joined in with the howling. It was simply one of the happiest moments of their life together.

As they were finishing their lunch and their cheerfulness beginning to subside, Hagrid read the kids’ faces and knew what they were worrying about. “I can’ really dispute the proof on what yeh did to that fat idiot Crabbe, Ron,” Hagrid said slowly. “He deserved that more than anything else aside from Malfoy. It’s a little thing, yeah, but ye should’ve have just admitted it – Dumbledore doesn’t like being lied ter, yeh gotta understand that.”

Ron just nodded, finally accepting his mistake. “I just don’t want to get back another year if ever I get suspended, Hagrid. I can’t imagine classes without Harry or Hermione.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other sadly.

“Yeah, that is if yeh get suspended long enough,” said Hagrid. “I reckon that’s too much of a punishment, and Dumbledore’s a just man. He cudern’t do that to yeh, I know it.”

“That’s what I’m hoping, too,” said Harry. “I think he was just putting up a show to shut Snape up.”

“Even the Slytherin Head Boy, Chadron, vouched for me,” said Ron.

“He did?” Hagrid said. “Strange for a Slytherin ter do that…”

“He’s actually the only one of the people in that club who got along well with students from other houses,” Harry added. “I guess it’s because his parents were said to be murdered by Voldermort…” Almost everybody around him flinched when they heard the name. “Sorry, slipped my mind…”

Hagrid turned to Hermione. “You’re a prefect, Hermione an’ you probably meet him regularly. What do you know about him?”

“He seems to be an okay guy, and I admire him,” she replied, much to the others’ surprise. “I came to know him up close on our first prefects’ meeting - one of his mission statements is to achieve harmony between the four houses. He’s also very kind to Muggle-borns like Dean and I, much to Malfoy’s disappointment. I think Dumbledore likes him that’s why he got the Head Boy position with a landslide vote.”

Hagrid, however, snorted and was not convinced. “I’ve known the Slytherin’s all me life. Yeh cudern’t trust any of them, including that Chadron guy, that’s fer sure. They’ve all been trouble since Salazar’s time, Slytherins. And remember how young You-Know-Who made sure I was expelled, an’ young Snape giving trouble to yer dad like Malfoy is doing to you now, Harry.” Harry and Ron nodded and instantly got Hagrid’s point. “You three had been in this school for more than four years, and you know how the Slytherins are, righ’?”

“But Chadron could turn out to be uniquely different,” argued Hermione calmly. “He’s cool. I’m beginning to like him.”

“Yeah, you like him ‘cause he’s handsome…” Ron said irritably. “I can’t believe you’re starting to say good things about the enemy.”

Hermione gave him a sharp look. “I like him because he’s a model student leader.”

“Yeah, but remember Tom Riddle was once a model student leader, but look at how terrible he’s become,” said Hagrid looking at them one by one, Hermione the longest. “ I got ter ask yeh not to trust him a hundred percent, you three.”

Harry felt Hermione didn’t agree with Hagrid, but she wisely avoided an argument by just nodding to his advice. Both she and Hagrid had a point, Harry thought, but he was leaning heavily towards Hagrid’s than with Hermione’s.

“Don’t worry about what’s comin’, Ron,” Hagrid said to break the ice. “If ever yeh get expelled, me hut’s big enough for an assistant. Oh, sorry, Ron, bad joke. Bad joke!” he quickly added when he saw Ron begin to faint.

After the three greeted Hagrid a Happy Birthday for the last time and thanked him for the superb lunch, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked back towards the castle for afternoon classes.

“What’s the point of me attending classes this afternoon?” said Ron, feeling resigned to his inevitable suspension. “You two just go ahead…I’ll be in the common room to get some sleep…”

Harry and Hermione tried to convince him not to worry, but after failing to change his mind, they gave up and went ahead to their classes while Ron made good on his idea and slumped on his bed wanting to just doze off to sleep forever, hoping everything will be all right after he wakes up. He could never foresee that what will happen tonight will only be the start of his problems far worse than the one he has now, and how this will affect the lives of his best friends.

-o0o-

Away from the hustle and bustle of the Hogwarts corridors, Jack Chadron entered the Head Boy’s personal quarters. A large room hidden in a secret location, the Head Boy’s quarters features more comforts than the ordinary Hogwarts students have. For one thing, it has its own fireplace just for the Head Boy, and Jack thought this was the most important luxury around for an operative secretly serving the Dark Lord through Lucius Malfoy.

He had sent an express owl earlier today setting up an urgent meeting with Mr. Malfoy near the fireplace. For Muggles, fireplaces are simply for heating, but for the Wizard world it has more to it than what meets the eye. Checking his watch, Jack knew it was just seconds away until he’ll meet his benefactor again.

Just as planned, a ghostly head appeared above the flames that looked much like Mr. Malfoy’s. “This better be important,” Lucius said. “I told you only to use this kind of communication only when it’s most justified. I don’t want you to blow your cover.”

“Good afternoon, sir,” Jack said, ignoring Lucius’ opening statement. “Don’t worry, I’m the only one who could enter my room, except that old fart, Dumbledore, and he’s in his office right now.”

“What’s so important that we need to talk, and make it quick. Narcissa will be around soon.”

“I could pull off everything you asked me tonight,” Jack said proudly.

“So soon? Are you sure? Not being too hasty, are you, Black Jack?” asked Lucius testily. “Haste makes waste.”

“The opportunity has come to us in a form that we may have never dreamed of,” he replied in a confident manner. He told Lucius about what happened in the corridor earlier. “I held myself back and secretly listened to a conversation between Ron Weasley and Harry Potter – the Weasley boy was positively horrified by the prospect of his parents knowing about this incident,” Jack continued. “Heard him talk about using some kind of a object to undo something, and making a forgetfulness potion for Dumbledore to make him forget about sending an owl to his parents. So, you see, we have found a motive for murder, and the Ministry will get the evidence that is enough to convict the poor fellow. That will make our work easier.”

“Brilliant,” said Lucius with noticeable excitement in his voice. “The Dark Lord will be very pleased upon hearing the news of Dumbledore’s death. You will wait and hold your cover until a Death Eater party will take over the school to prepare for the Dark Lord’s triumphant return.”

“I understand,” Jack Chadron said, smirking. “I’ll report to you soon.”

Just then, Lucius’ head disappeared with a pop. Jack Chadron stood up and paced the floor, going through his plan for tonight again inside his head. He actually wished he still had more time to refine his mission plan, but everything seemed to be going his way and opportunity was too good to pass up.

Yes, tonight was the moment of truth, he thought. He can’t possibly back down now as he has made the initial preparations now. Preventing Harry Potter from being present in the meeting was one – he didn’t want more people inside in Dumbledore’s office than what is necessary for his purpose. But would Dumbledore react why Harry isn’t around, as he wanted to? Would that complicate things? There were so many things to think about that could spoil the plan, but he thought this was better than having more than two to deal with because he would have to kill Harry Potter, too, and that would take away the Dark Lord’s chance to kill the “Boy Who Lived” himself. No, you did the right thing Jack, he told himself, and McGonagall will be the one to “witness” Ron Weasley kill Dumbledore. He will just have to trust his training to handle the unexpected.

After he allowed himself to relax, Jack Chadron thought about the aftermath of the impending death of Dumbledore. He daydreamed about welcoming the triumphant Dark Lord in front of the Hogwarts gates, a proud Lucius beside him. Jack Chadron, the Head Boy who gave back Hogwarts to the heir of Slytherin. He will be honored among the ranks of Voldemort’s inner circle, a full-fledged Death Eater even before graduating. Yes, the power! He wanted power more than everything else, and it will come to him pretty sooner than he expected. Just kill Dumbledore first and take care of the rest, he told himself over and over again.

3. Like He is Dead

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 2

“Like, He’s Dead!”

It was almost supper when Harry took a seat beside Hermione along the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for dinner. Like them, everybody else was looking forward for the delicious menu that lay ahead. Food was always tasty in Hogwarts that everyone always managed to have at least two helpings of everything, but no one seems to get fatter than they already were either.

“There’s Ron!” Hermione said when she saw him walking slowly among the last group of students entering the Great Hall. “Oh, no. He looks very miserable…”

Harry thought miserable was a mild word for “total wreck” when Ron finally reached his seat. “You all right there, Ron? You look horrible.”

“I’m so depressed I couldn’t even fall to sleep…”

“Sleeping on your problems won’t help solve them, Ron,” said Hermione sternly. “You gotta face the music sooner or later! I mean if you didn’t play the practical joke none of this would have ever happened!”

“Yeah, thanks for the inspiring message, Hermione,” Ron said sarcastically.

Led by Draco Malfoy, most students along the Slytherin table sang “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” that was meant to torment him more and not to be friendly. A loud bang from McGonagall’s wand told them to keep quiet, and they did, but not before they rang with derisive laughter.

Dumbledore was seated on his usual seat on top of the Hall with his purple robes standing out whatever color of garments the teachers were wearing. Harry saw that he was very relaxed and was beaming as he looked around all the students merrily eating their supper. Harry had a horrible impression that he didn’t seem to care about suspending someone tonight. Then, someone with jet-black robes crossed Harry’s eyesight – who else, but Snape - and stopped to whisper something on Dumbledore’s ears. The Headmaster frowned and nodded impatiently at Snape without looking at him like he was irritated at something. Harry guessed Snape may have reminded him of the meeting tonight, and that gave Harry the strong urge to run up the Hall and kick Snape very hard at the shins. Dumbledore might truly be regretting beforehand that such a meeting will have to take place as scheduled, and that was a good sign, he hoped.

Ron didn’t eat as much as he usually does, but at least Hermione’s persistent wheedling helped stuff up some food in his stomach. Harry had a strong feeling all of this effort might prove useless later, as Ron is always susceptible of throwing up during extreme stress.

After dinner was officially over, all of the students went up to their dorms. The cheerful atmosphere along the way was not helping Ron though. Students kept talking about their plans for the next day or week, and some even approached Harry to give him some encouragement for the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. For someone who was about to be suspended or worse, expelled, hearing such things will only make things more miserable.

Harry wished that Fred and George Weasley were around in the common room as he waited for Hermione to escort them to Dumbledore’s office. The twins’ antics would have surely helped cheer up Ron, but they were still serving the last stretch of their detention by scrubbing up the Greenhouses for Professor Sprout. Ginny Weasley was beside Ron and kept on blushing when Harry looked at both of them. She was talking to her brother very soothingly; bless her. At last, the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed in, but she wasn’t alone. What made Ginny scream was seeing what was behind Hermione - two tall and robed figures with their hoods up holding what looked like a long sickle. Hermione wheeled around and shrieked as she backed off a few steps. Everyone in the common room stopped what they’re doing and fell silent, all eyes transfixed on the unexpected visitors. After a long pause one of them spoke very dramatically.

“Are we late for the execution?” said one of them.

Ron’s eyes became round with anxiety, but thankfully Professor Sprout came behind the two robed figures not a moment too soon. She removed the hoods and everyone laughed when they saw Fred and George’s identical faces show as soon as the hoods fell down. Professor Sprout didn’t wait more than a second and grabbed both twins by the ears.

“I recognized you both at once when I saw you tip-toeing behind Miss Granger, Weasleys! I’ve been looking all over for you because you didn’t report for detention tonight! Out! Out!” snarled Professor Sprout.

The two twins just grinned and whimpered with pain when Professor Sprout led them out of the common still holding them by the ears. Ron was doubling up with laughter with Harry and Hermione. “They don’t really disappoint, those two,” said Harry.

Minutes later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in front of the stone gargoyle leading to Dumbledore’s office. “Cherry Lollipops,” muttered Hermione, and the gargoyle slid to reveal a passageway. “You’re not supposed to hear Dumbledore’s password, Harry, but I think it’s alright this time…”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Harry replied and he turned to Ron. “Well, I guess this is it, Ron.”

“Yeah,” said Ron. “I think I’ve become too numb to feel more horrified anymore – I’ll live.”

Hermione smiled and said “Harry and I’ll just be out here, Ron. Don’t worry, everything’s gonna turn out okay, I know it.”

“You’ll be fine,” Harry said.

But before Ron could take another step further, Jack Chadron called, “Mr. Weasley, wait.” Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned in the direction of Jack Chadron’s voice and watched him get nearer. The Head Boy, however, glared at Hermione.

“What’s Mr. Potter doing here, Hermione?” he asked. “I thought you heard what the Headmaster said. He said he didn’t want Mr. Potter in his office for this meeting.”

Hermione wanted to answer “I heard that from you, not Dumbledore” but decided against it. “Harry won’t be inside the office at all - he’ll only be outside the corridor with me, sir,” she reasoned quietly instead.

“Don’t get smart with me, Hermione,” snapped Jack Chadron. “You very well know the rules that prefects should be accompanied only by another prefect, not an ordinary student.”

“Ordinary student, huh?” Harry thought. Then this Jack Chadron isn’t what he’s thought up to be, and he has at least a drop of prejudice against most of the students.

“…especially in front of the Headmaster’s secret entrance where only prefects can know about the password?” Jack finished.

“I’ve been in this office lots of times, Jack, and I swear I didn’t hear Hermione say the password at all,” Harry lied to help Hermione get out of trouble. He’d actually been in the office more than three times in his five years in Hogwarts, but he remembered well enough Dumbledore’s favorite password was Cherry Lollipops.

Hermione, however, talked again. “With your permission, sir, I request for an exception to that rule, sir, just for this one occasion – Harry, Ron, and I have been best friends ever since…” she immediately stopped talking when Jack Chadron quickly, almost arrogantly, raised a hand.

“We’re late for the meeting, but, yes, perhaps I’ll allow an exception for tonight,” said Jack, not hiding his disapproval. “Come, Mr. Weasley, I’ll bring you to the Headmaster now.”

With a last look at his two friends and a reassuring glance from him, Ron followed directly behind Jack Chadron to the passageway. Harry and Hermione wanted to see him at the very last moment possible and followed the stone gargoyle as it closed. Before it shut completely, both of them thought they saw Jack Chadron stop and turn around with his hand outstretched to Ron, as if to ask something from him, but they didn’t mind that at all. As soon as Harry was certain the stone gargoyle was closed enough that they won’t be heard from inside, Harry hissed, “What was he upset all about?” Hermione just shrugged.

They just stood there silently in the dim corridor for a couple of minutes, and both somehow failed to think on what to talk about. “Let’s go find a seat somewhere,” said Harry at last. They found a stone bench just along the corridor a few feet from the stone gargoyle and sat down.

And they sat there for a few silent moments until Hermione started to talk. “I wonder what’s going on inside there right now. Do you think Dumbledore will really suspend or expel Ron tonight, Harry?”

Harry thought for a moment and said, “Probably not. He seemed not to like the idea, though, I can feel it.” A few moments silence went by again, and Harry couldn’t fight the urge to ask Hermione about Jack Chadron once more. “Hermione, please be honest, was the Head Boy ever been that strict to you back there?”

“Not that I remember,” Hermione replied. “He’s never been this way with me at all. We’ve always been getting along pretty well, you see, he’s usually been slack with the rules, said that some rules didn’t agree with how he’ll handle things while he’s Head Boy. That’s why most of the prefects like him. Why, Harry?”

“Nothing, just a funny feeling.”

“Like what?” asked Hermione, laughing a little, but she’d never find out as Professor McGonagall rounded a corner and came walking towards the Dumbledore’s entrance. Before she could reach it, she stopped in front of her and Harry.

“Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. What are the two of you both doing out here at a time like this?”

“We’re just waiting for Ron until the meeting’s over, Professor,” replied Hermione for Harry.

“Waiting? You mean the meeting’s started already?”

Both kids nodded and they looked at each other and back to McGonagall again.

McGonagall lips became thin. “I hope I’ve heard correctly from Professor Snape what time the Headmaster wanted the meeting to start…I couldn’t be too late, am I?” Without waiting for Harry or Hermione to answer, she briskly walked towards the gargoyle, muttered the password, and disappeared as soon as it closed again. Harry and Hermione looked at each other again and they both shrugged.

“Harry, I’ve been getting the funny feeling you were sneaking out again to Hogsmeade,” said Hermione after another five minutes of silence. Harry, to her surprise, just snorted and began to laugh. “Couldn’t have too much fun, can you? What’s so funny?” she asked suspiciously.

“The many times I slipped by just a few inches from you, Hermione,” Harry said. “The last one was last night – I wanted to see how good a prefect you are…I pulled your hair for fun and Peeves just happened to pass by. Poor Peeves, he got the worst of you, really.”

“That was YOU in the invisibility cloak!?!” she said shrilly and tried to reach both of her hands around Harry’s neck to choke him. That only gave Harry a rich tickling sensation and they both had a hearty laugh.

“I always have a hard time with that prefect from Ravenclaw Jude Chamberlain,” Harry continued. “He’s got the nose of a niffler, and I think he smelled me when I was slithering out of the witch’s hump. I panicked and got out but my cloak fell down the tunnel. I only had time to close the hump and get out of sight. I’ve got to get the cloak back someday.”

“Not on my watch, you won’t” challenged Hermione, wearing a nasty grin on her face that made Harry gently jab her nose tip.

“Okay, Prefect, two tankards of Butterbeer in Hogsmeade says I could get the cloak without being caught – make it four if you can catch me yourself!”

“You’re on!” she said confidently and they both shook hands. Before their hands broke away, the stone gargoyle slid open and they both turned their heads in that direction.

Professor McGonagall strode out and stopped. She placed the tip of her wand near her throat and muttered, “Sonurus!”

“Harry, what’s going on…” Hermione started but her voice was drowned by McGonagall’s that was amplified many times the normal volume.

“ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ALL AVAILABLE TEACHERS GO TO THE HEADMASTER’S OFFICE AT ONCE! I REPEAT, ALL AVAILABLE TEACHERS… AND MADAM POMFREY GO TO THE HEADMASTER’S OFFICE AT ONCE! THIS IS AN EMERGENCY!” McGonagall said. Then she muttered “Quietus” with her wand tip near her throat again and her voice came back to normal.

Harry and Hermione didn’t think twice and ran towards the entrance. Before they reached it McGonagall took a good look at them. Harry saw her eyes were watering, and she seemed to as if she wanted to tell him and Hermione something, but her lips were trembling and no words came out of her mouth and she just ran back to the office.

“What the…” Harry said, and he felt Hermione pull him towards the office. When he got in, what he saw made him think something was really wrong, but his mind didn’t register he was seeing right away because of the confusion. Ron was slumped chest down on the floor, apparently stunned. His wand lay on the floor beside him. About ten feet from him Dumbledore was behind his desk and his head was slumped on top of a piece of parchment on the desk surface - his right hand was loosely holding a feather quill. And his eyes were open in an odd way.

Jack Chadron, meanwhile, was standing beside Dumbledore. He was silent, and his wand was pointed at Ron. McGonagall reached the Headmaster and tried to wake him.

Harry and Hermione instinctively ran and knelt down beside Ron and checked on him. “Ron, Ron! Are you alright…Ron?” Harry said as he turned him over. “What happened, Jack?” Harry demanded. “What happened?”

Jack, however, was still standing there on the same spot, in silence. His eyes were looking daggers at Ron’s limp form, with cold fury drawn in his face.

A few running footsteps at the entrance announced the arrival of more teachers. Snape was the first one to enter followed by the tiny Professor Flitwick. Snape went straight to Dumbledore as soon as he saw him. “What happened here?” he said while making big strides toward the desk. “Minerva!”

“Oh, no!” gasped McGonagall. “I think the Headmaster’s dead!”

“What?” everyone else exclaimed.

At last, Jack Chadron spoke, his voice shaking. “The Headmaster was writing an expulsion note on his desk when Mr. Weasley took out his wand and performed the Death Curse on him, Professor Snape. I had barely time to take my own wand and Professor McGonagall stunned him first, but it was all too late! Too late!” Jack was positively crying now and sank down to the floor.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in shock. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Harry thought could Ron have been that desperate to keep himself in Hogwarts as to kill Professor Dumbledore? It was totally absurd.

Madam Pomfrey, the Head Nurse, arrived. Snape urgently called on her to check on the Headmaster. As she was doing so, Snape turned to McGonagall who was shaking from head to toe. “Is this true, Professor?”

With great difficulty, as if she couldn’t believe what she would be saying out of denial, McGonagall said “Yes, Professor, I stunned Mr. Weasley right after he performed the Death Curse. I – I can’t believe a student could commit murder, even in front of me and the Head Boy. I’m afraid everything the Head Boy said was the truth.”

“There’s only one way to know for sure,” squeaked Professor Flitwick, walking over and scooping up the wand from Ron’s hand. “Is this Mr. Weasley’s wand, Harry?”

He couldn’t dispute that. It was undeniably Ron’s wand, and Harry, with great difficulty, nodded. He couldn’t believe he just did.

Professor Flitwick stretched out the wand and muttered, “Priori Incantatem!”

A ghostly green wisp of smoke spit out of the wand and terminated on a simulated form that was recognizably Dumbledore’s. The form slumped exactly the way Dumbledore is positioned now, and the words “Avada Kadavera” were written in mid-air.

Upon witnessing that, and recalling McGonagall’s testimony, Harry felt like fainting. But Hermione beat him to it. She suddenly collapsed, and Harry caught her just in time before her head hit the hard floor. Harry loosened her tie and fanned his hand over her face.

“He’s alive! Just barely,” announced Madam Pomfrey. “I’d better get him to the hospital wing quick!”

Every conscious head around the room snapped in her direction. The expressions on everyone’s face were mixed. Some were still horrified, other’s relieved, but Snape’s still emotionless as he looked at the Head Nurse. Then Harry saw Snape conjure a stretcher like the Potions professor did near the Whomping Willow to carry him and Hermione in their third year, he recalled, and levitated the Headmaster’s almost lifeless body on to it. The stretcher then started to move out of the office followed by Madam Pomfrey who kept saying “Out of the way, out of the way” to the growing crowd outside the office. Madam Hooch and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy Department followed. However, Snape and everybody else who arrived at the scene first stayed behind.

“We must call on the Ministry of Magic to arrest Mr. Weasley for the attempted murder of Professor Dumbledore,” declared Snape. “He must be sent to Azkaban.”

Harry reacted suddenly without letting go of Hermione, who had quickly regained consciousness, but remained weak. “You can’t!!!” he bellowed. “Azkaban? Without a trial?”

“You’ve already seen the evidence and heard the testimony of Professor McGonagall, Mr. Potter!” snarled Snape. “What else do you need to convince yourself otherwise?”

Harry didn’t answer, and McGonagall said slowly, “Harry, I’m afraid the evidence is too overwhelming that Mr. Weasley indeed attempted to kill the Headmaster, and I think there is still one more left to establish a motive.” She still looked as if she was in denial. She walked over to Dumbledore’s desk and took the parchment with the unfinished letter. Here’s what prompted Mr. Weasley to do that unspeakable act. She read the parchment aloud.

“Memorandum to all Teachers:

As of this day, Mr. Ronald Weasley has been expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. All Teachers are advised not to accept the said student from all classes, and if Mr. Weasley is found within the grounds of the school after one day, he must be bodily carried out without any question and escorted to Platform Nine and Three Quarters at King’s Cross Station unless otherwise this order has been cancelled by the undersigned.

Please be guided accordingly.

Signed: Albus Dumbledore”

“Well, I guess that explains it all, although this document is not binding yet as the Headmaster half-finished his signature.” McGonagall continued, now regaining her composure. “As of this moment, as the deputy Headmaster of this school, I’m temporarily taking over Professor Dumbledore’s place while he’s incapacitated. I’ll be issuing some emergency orders soon in order to maintain order after this terrible tragedy. I need the Head Boy, Jack Chadron, to assist me in all matters.”

“Yes, Professor,” replied Jack, and he glanced at Harry, who was staring back at him.

Ron began to regain consciousness. Snape quickly conjured ropes to tie Ron from behind. Harry quickly looked at Snape, who glared back at him and not saying anything. “Wha…what happened?” murmured Ron weakly. It took a while for him to fully realize his surroundings.

“You tell me, Mr. Weasley,” said Snape menacingly. “I’m putting you under arrest for the attempted murder of Professor Dumbledore. We will call on Ministry Wizards to complete the arrest and you’ll spend the rest of your life in Azkaban.”

Harry saw that Ron was as confused as he was. Harry had the terrible impression that Ron was just pretending pretty hard to look oblivious about what’s happened.

“Azkaban? Wh-why? What happened?” Ron looked at Harry and Hermione who was looking at him very weakly. “Harry, what happened? Why am I all tied up?”

“Do you remember anything, Ron, can you tell us exactly what happened here moments ago?” asked Harry calmly, hoping that he could tell a very different story.

“Yes, I think I was entering the office and I was talking to Professor Dumbledore right here. And…and…” Ron suddenly became confused.

“And what, Mr. Weasley?” asked Snape impatiently.

“I…I think I don’t remember…”

“Ha! You think you can get away of such story, Mr. Weasley?” Snape spat. “You were caught red-handed performing the Death Curse on the Headmaster who’s in critical condition now at the hospital wing…no less than Professor McGonagall and the Head Boy here witnessed the crime!”

Ron went pale. “I did? I-I didn’t, Professor, I swear!!!” Ron pleaded. “The next thing I remember is seeing you all right here right now!”

“If it weren’t for the fact that I heard you lie to the Headmaster today even for just a simple thing as a practical joke, I might have given you the benefit of the doubt, Mr. Weasley,” said Snape angrily. “But you’re the guilty one and the only thing left is for you to admit it.”

“No…no…” Ron whimpered as he now realized the gravity of the situation. “Harry, did I really? I couldn’t remember anything at all, you gotta believe me!” He was now sobbing.

“R-Ron, how could you…how could you?” Hermione said, her breathing getting uneven. Tears were now streaming down on her cheeks. Harry shook her gently once to stop her from talking.

“Hermione…did I really…I didn’t…” but Ron stopped when Hermione turned away her cheek. “Harry? I can’t remember anything. You got to believe me! Please. You’re my best friend, right?”

“We’ll work this thing out, Ron, we’ll know that truth,” Harry said. He quickly stared at Jack Chadron who was also staring back with his lips oddly thinning then relaxing back again.

“You’ll be wasting your time, Mr. Potter, as the facts are undisputable now,” said McGonagall. “I have to ask everyone of you to leave the Headmaster’s office at once. Professor Snape, bring Mr. Weasley and detain him in the dungeons until Ministry Wizards will come and bring him to Azkaban.”

Snape nodded and pulled Ron painfully up by the arms to guide him to the dungeons. Mr. Filch the caretaker helped Snape drag him.

“No! Not Azkaban…!” He looked at Harry pleadingly for help. But Harry could not leave Hermione alone who was still too frail to walk on her own.

“I’ll talk to you later, Ron! I gotta look after Hermione!” Harry wanted to punch himself because he could not do anything for Ron in his darkest time. He could hear some angry voices as Snape and Ron got past a thick crowd of students outside.

“Mr. Potter, I must ask you now to leave,” said McGonagall sternly, pointing at the door. Jack Chadron just stood there, as if he, too, made the order himself.

Out of Dumbledore’s office, Harry walked robotically towards the Gryffindor tower while he carried Hermione, who was staring blankly ahead, in his arms, Some students along the way were madly asking him questions of what really happened in Dumbledore’s office, but Harry didn’t care to talk. He kept on staring and walking straight ahead.

The portrait hole was wide open as many students were talking inside and outside the common room. When they saw Harry and Hermione they all fell silent, and not even one of them dared to ask them questions. Inside, Ginny was crying hysterically as Fred embraced her. Not anyone, not even the Weasley twins could help lighten up the moment. Maybe they felt shame of their brother’s actions, or grief out of Dumbledore’s present condition. Harry didn’t know. Or probably he didn’t care. He only thought of Ron: His best friend for more than four years, and the one who saved him once from the Dursley’s. The one who gave his life some color now locked up in the dungeon, and soon, if nothing can be done, he will be in dreadful Azkaban for committing an unforgivable crime. And he could do nothing to get him out.

The common room was still silent as everybody watched Harry place Hermione on the couch and sat down beside her. He didn’t look at anybody else’s eyes and stared up the ceiling for a moment or two, still unbelieving of the events that transpired in Dumbledore’s office. Then he heard Hermione’s small shaking voice call the name they has grown to love all these years.

“Ron,” she whispered.

Harry didn’t have to look at Hermione. It all came very spontaneously for them. They both hugged and broke down completely as if someone special had just died.

4. Hunches and Triggers

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 3

“Hunches and Triggers”

A few hours have past after Harry came from Dumbledore’s office. He was alone in the common room, and after tossing and turning on his four-poster, sometimes staring at Ron’s empty and undisturbed bed, he gave up on sleep and decided to sit down where he was now, on the squashy armchair in front of the common room fireplace.

Soon enough, he heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs, and he turned his head to see who made it. It was Hermione. She was shivering under her thick coat and walked towards the fire and knelt down beside it for warmth.

“Can’t sleep, too?” said Harry.

“No,” she replied quietly.

“Me neither.”

There were a few moments silence as Harry and Hermione allowed themselves to plunge deep in thought about Ron, who was presently in the dungeons at the very moment. “How do you think he’s feeling down there?” said Hermione slowly.

“Depressed. Afraid – I’d feel the same thing if I was in his shoes, too,” replied Harry, and he pounded his fist on the side table. “I failed him tonight!”

“Failed him for what, Harry?” said Hermione gently and for the first time since she went down from her dorm, she looked at Harry. “We couldn’t do anything up there in Dumbledore’s office. The proof we saw – and McGonagall’s testimony. They were all too much.”

“I should have accompanied him to the dungeons…”

“Snape and Filch surely would’ve disagreed.”

Harry breathed deeply. He thought Hermione was right, but he felt at least he should have insisted of going to the dungeons with Ron and he probably should have volunteered to be locked up with him. That would have made it easy for Ron than being alone there right now with no one to talk to. “I should have gone with him… but I still couldn’t leave you in there alone, too…”

“I know it’s my fault, Harry…I should have been very strong up there. He needed you more than I did, but I want to thank you for helping me get back here – I couldn’t have done it myself, and I don’t trust the Head Boy to do what you did…”

“Please don’t blame yourself, Hermione, it’s not your fault,” said Harry sincerely. They both fell silent, not knowing what to talk about again.

“So, uh, are you thinking what I’m thinking about the Head Boy?” he added hesitantly afterwards, because he knew this was definitely not a good time to argue with Hermione. It normally irritated her when someone contradicts her too much because she stands by with her beliefs fiercely, and a new argument over a “trivial” thing like over the Head Boy won’t be much of a big help.

There was a long pause before she answered Harry’s question, and Harry himself was almost sure he made a wrong step. He then thought he’d had to go through with helping Ron alone.

From Hermione’s point of view, her positive remarks about Jack Chadron in Hagrid’s Hut today were surely fresh in Harry’s mind, and she knew she had to eat her words sooner or later. Or maybe right now, she’ll have to swallow her pride. She’ll do this for Ron, she decided, but Harry saved her from that before she can talk. This was the amazing thing being best friends for many years.

“Hermione, I’m sorry for bringing that up. Whatever Jack Chadron is, we’re gonna have to leave it for later,” said Harry gently. “The important thing is I think we must stop feeling sorry for Ron and ourselves now – pull ourselves together, and start thinking of something we could do. So what d’you say we start first thing we wake up tomorrow morning, deal?”

Hermione looked at Harry gratefully and nodded, giving him her best smile. This, at least, allowed her to speak her piece about her doubts with the Head Boy, without ever needing to recant all the good things she talked about earlier today.

“Harry, I smell something fishy here - I’ve got a funny feeling Chadron has something to do with some of this, or maybe everything. I mean I know Ron and he can’t even manage to do a simple thing like a banishing charm and when did he know how to do the Death Curse…and knowing him, he’d rather think about Dungbombs and the Chudley Cannons than practice his magic, of course, and you remember what Professor Moody – I mean Crouch – said last year?” Hermione said all of these furiously fast that Harry hadn’t got the chance to hear everything. But he was positive Hermione sounded she didn’t believe Ron tried to kill Dumbledore.

“Uh…I don’t remember,” said Harry, confused a little.

Hermione stared at him. “You mean you weren’t listening to Moody…oh, never mind… Anyway, he said we were all too young to know how to do it properly, and I presume no one is supposed to teach us how to kill while we’re at Hogwarts. Ron couldn’t have done it, I’m sure of it now.”

“But, still, it all goes down to McGonagall’s word that she saw Ron try and kill Dumbledore, and Ron’s wand…” Harry thought aloud for Hermione. “I dunno how we could challenge that. McGonagall is one very credible teacher…”

“Yes, we all heard what Professor McGonagall said, apparently from what we’ve seen so far it might be the truth. But there must be something else going around here that we don’t know. Remember, Harry, we’re in the magical world now, and sometimes it’s not totally different to the Muggle world. For all we know, she might be lying, too.”

“I don’t see any reason what would make McGonagall pin Ron down for something. She’s strict but pretty fair and impartial. I don’t think she’s lying, Hermione,” said Harry, feeling disappointed of pointing that out. However, he also had other theories. “But, do you think McGonagall has some mad conspiracy to take over the Headmaster duty? I know it sounds crazy because I always thought she’s the loyal and trustworthy right-hand person type for Dumbledore.”

Hermione thought hard. “McGonagall all behind this? Well…that’s a possibility. I hate to think about that but my Aunt Charlotte says when Uncle Ben goes investigating, he likes to keep all angles open. He’s with the Muggle Police, you know. That’s why it’s important we have to find out very soon, Harry. I think that’s what we can do to help Ron. But if everything we learn about the incident turns out the same in the end…”

Harry shuddered. He dreaded to come to the point to discover Ron as the guilty one, but they had to find out the real truth about the incident. Not just simply the truth, but the real truth.

“You’re right,” said Harry, exhaling a lot of air. “We gotta find out for ourselves, the sooner the better. No one around here might be too interested to re-investigate…Snape was absolutely convinced Ron tried to kill Dumbledore.”

Hermione snorted. “Hmph. Snape. He was having the time of his life pinning down Ron on the murder attempt. I know he won’t be much of a help even if we find out something to incriminate somebody else than Ron.”

“So, when do you think Ministry Wizards would arrive here to take away Ron?”

“If they travel by broomsticks, they’ll probably arrive by tomorrow morning,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “But my guess is they’ll take the Hogwarts Express when they’d transport a prisoner from Hogwarts. It makes sense because broomsticks aren’t at all that secure. If they’re thinking what I’m guessing now, I reckon they’ll ride the train 11 o’clock the day after tomorrow. It won’t leave until Wednesday if it follows the schedule.”

“So we have to find out everything by morning on Wednesday. I refuse to let him set foot in Azkaban even if he’d be cleared in the end, Hermione. You heard what Hagrid said about the place, and remember how it felt when surrounded by those Dementors. They don’t care if you’re innocent or not.”

That gave Hermione more chills. “Brrr. That’s right, and hopefully we will, Harry. We have to,” she said with a hint of desperation in her voice.

“Let’s visit Ron tomorrow morning as soon as we can, okay?”

Hermione nodded. She was ready to skip classes if needed in order to hear the side of Ron. She still felt very guilty of accusing him back in Dumbledore’s office, and she owes this to Ron. Even is she hadn’t done that, she’d still do anything for her best friend like Harry, even at the cost of her life (or worse her future in Hogwarts). She remembers very vividly how Harry and Ron risked their lives early in the term to save her from a monster called an “Oarling”.

“It’s almost two. We gotta get some sleep, but I doubt if we can…” said Harry.

-o0o-

Harry actually did fall asleep, but he had made it a point to wake up before six to be able to do things before classes, and visiting Ron as soon as possible was his first order of the day. Somehow he managed to wake up without the help of an alarm clock. He stood up sleepily ahead of everyone else inside the dorm, fixed himself up before going down the spiral staircase, and headed toward the portrait hole.

“Harry, wait for me!” said Hermione as she hurried to catch up from behind. “I knew you’ve been thinking of going to the dungeons this early, too.”

Harry smiled at her and they both walked out of the common room together. Nobody else was out around the grounds except for Peeves who fortunately did not spot Harry and Hermione.

“Isn’t it a way little too early to visit him?” said Hermione as they made their way to the dungeons.

“Forget being too early,” Harry replied, sounding worried. “The question is if they would let us see him.”

Finding the right dungeon where Ron proved to be difficult for the two of them. They searched, now slightly sweating, for more than fifteen minutes. “No, Harry, I think we’ve been here before,” said Hermione as she peered around a corner. “See, it’s the same old painting.” Harry had the horrible feeling they would never be able to find Ron until they heard a loud snort coming from an opposite corridor.

Hoping they found the right dungeon they rounded the next corner and saw a prefect sleeping and seated on a school desk, his chin resting on his hand. It was Jude Chamberlain of Hufflepuff on sentry, and he looked like he was here the whole night. Behind him was a magically locked wooden door, and two security trolls who looked like they wanted to clobber somebody already with their clubs. The door possibly went to another room, and Harry was sure this time Ron was in there.

“Uhm, Jude?” approached Hermione slowly.

“Uh, hmmm, yeah?” he said sleepily, but his face lit up broadly like he was witnessing some kind of a miracle when he saw Hermione. “Oh, thank the stars it’s you! What time is it?”

“Just turned six…” she said, and looked at Harry for some encouragement. He nodded vigorously at her. “Is Ron still in there?” Hermione said timidly. “Can we go in and meet him?”

“Gladly! I’ve been wondering when you’d come by – I couldn’t sleep with all the moaning from there,” Jude complained, jerking his thumb towards the door. “He’s been calling your name and Harry’s all night.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and felt more guiltily than ever.

“First you have to sign here and you got to give me your wands,” Jude said, pushing a piece of parchment on top of the desk and an inkbottle with a quill. Harry signed his name first and Hermione went next. Then Jude kept their wands.

“Good, but I’m afraid you only have about fifteen minutes to talk to him, and be sure you don’t have one of the 559 banned objects with you when you get in the room. It’s bewitched to throw you out immediately when one’s detected. Here’s the list…” Jude gave Harry a thick roll of parchment. Harry knew he didn’t have time to go through the list and he made sure he had nothing inside his pockets anymore – this seemed sensible for him. He suddenly had a dreadful thought of what might happen if eyeglasses were also included in the list. Hermione removed her hairpin to be safe.

“Some security measures you have here,” said Hermione, glancing nervously at the two trolls who were surveying her and Harry very intently. “Never thought they already had made up plans for this.”

“Heh, you tell me,” replied Jude “This was Snape’s idea. I think he has in it for the three of you, an’ you might suspect he’d already thought of this out of a daydream a long time ago. I’ll be glad to get out of here soon – these trolls here really stink. Next shift’s up in less than an hour…you’re just the second one in my shift who got near at least five feet from me…”

“Uh, someone was here before us?” said Hermione.

“The Head Boy,” Jude answered. “But he didn’t get inside the cell – he just asked if you have already been around to visit, Harry.”

Harry and Hermione found that odd. “Did he say why?” asked Harry.

Jude just shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe he knew how such good friends you were.”

“Thanks, Jude,” said Hermione. She and Harry both started towards the door and it opened by itself. Stepping in, and relieved that they weren’t forcefully rejected at all, they looked for Ron inside the dark room. Sunlight was now making itself in from the small and barred window at the opposite wall, and they saw a small mound on the floor in a corner. It was Ron.

Harry and Hermione slowly walked towards him, but before they could call his name, they heard his voice that was woefully small and sounded tired. “I was thinking you two already abandoned me,” he said very slowly.

“Oh, Ron, we’re very sorry,” Hermione said guiltily. She quickly ran and knelt down beside him, helping him sit up. Without waiting for a second, she hugged him and howled. Harry also knelt down opposite Hermione and hugged Ron, too. “I’m very sorry, Ron.”

“Nah, forget about it, you two - I knew you wouldn’t, and thanks,” said Ron, with a weak smile, trying to look brave in front of his best friends. When he sat upright, the sunlight hitting his face revealed someone who had been feeling miserable and depressed the whole night. His eyes were extremely bloodshot.

“We came here as soon as we can,” said Harry. “We don’t believe you tried to kill Dumbledore, Ron. We’ll find out the truth – Hermione and I talked about it last night.”

“Thanks, you two,” said Ron gratefully. “You don’t know how much what you said means to me…”

“And I shouldn’t have accused you back there, too, Ron,” Hermione said, sobbing.

“Don’ worry, I didn’t blame you one bit, Hermione,” Ron assured. “I didn’t hear anything everyone talked about when I was out cold, but whatever it was could have been very believable for you. Snape told me about what I did, and all the facts seem to point the finger at me.” He grunted as he rubbed his sore backside.

“I hate Snape, he told me everything with relish, can you believe that?” Ron continued. “He was too glad I was going to rot in this bloody cell tonight. I have a strong feeling this was all his idea, that git.”

“What do you remember about all of this, Ron?” asked Harry slowly but firmly. The first thing he really wanted to know now is what Ron had got to say about everything.

“Like I said back there, nothing at all, Harry. I know this sounds incredible to you, but I absolutely have no memory of the whole thing, except right after I met Dumbledore in front of his desk.”

“What did Dumbledore do, if you remember anything, Ron?” asked Hermione this time.

“I think he nodded at me and told me to wait until he finished writing something on a sheet of parchment.”

“The expulsion note?”

“Hmmm, couldn’t have been,” Ron thought aloud. “An owl came in and took it. Could’ve been a letter for someone. He was then talking to me about what I did wrong, but I don’t recall what he said; I think everything went black after then, and that’s all I can remember, because the next thing I knew you were all inside the office already.”

Hermione and Harry gave each other a nervous glance. He was betting that Hermione might have thought exactly what that meant like he did. Did Ron have a bout of temporary insanity back there? “Ron, how did you feel when you entered Dumbledore’s office?” Hermione asked wisely.

“Amazingly relaxed,” Ron replied. “Like I was ready to face the music.”

That didn’t fit someone who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, Harry thought. He hoped that meant Ron didn’t turn mad all of a sudden.

“I know what I’m telling you isn’t helping…” said Ron. “But Harry, I really don’t want to get into Azkaban a minute too long! It scares the hell out of me. You know I’m innocent. At least you can feel it, right? Look, I don’t even know how to do the curse, how do you explain that? Please, you gotta find a way to get me out of here.”

“We can’t promise that we’ll solve this right away,” Hermione told Ron before Harry could say anything. “But we’ll do the best we can to clear everything up while you’re here, isn’t that right, Harry?” It was that look in her eyes again that suggested Hermione didn’t like what Harry might be planning to do for Ron, and in this case, he was thinking of breaking him out.

A knock on the door signaled their time was up. “We’ll be back soon, Ron. Please hang on,” said Harry still wishing not to leave Ron all alone again.

“Please remember what I said, and thanks for coming, both of you,” said Ron calmly. “I think I’ll be alright until tomorrow, as long as I’m not in Azkaban.”

Hermione took a neatly packed paper napkin out of her pocket – it wrapped two pieces of chicken legs and a couple of croissants for Ron. “Luckily this isn’t a banned item, or else I would’ve flown out,” she said. “I had to risk it; I didn’t want you to get hungry, Ron. And here’s a small flask, I’ve put a spell on it - it won’t run out of water.”

“Oh, don’ worry. They’re not starving me,” said Ron as he gratefully took the food and water. “But I’m hungry and thirsty now. This’ll do, thanks a lot!”

Hermione gave him another strong hug and Harry squeezed Ron’s hind neck gently. Ron was in tears again as his two best friends were clearing the doorway. After logging off and claiming their wands from Jude, Harry and Hermione headed for the Great Hall because it was time for breakfast. They walked together silently for a few minutes, their hearts still left in the dungeon with Ron.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” said Hermione quietly without looking at him. “Please don’t. Breaking him out will be more trouble than you think – especially for Ron.”

“If all comes to worse, what else can we do?” reasoned Harry. “You don’t want Ron to feel what’s it like in Azkaban as much as I do, right, Hermione?”

“That’s true. But I still don’t think it’s a good idea at this time. I reckon we still have some time to look for clues, though I admit it’s starting to look difficult.” Hermione saw Jack Chadron walk ahead of them casually from behind and held up a hand for Harry to tell him to slow down. When Jack was out of earshot, Hermione hissed, “You know, he’s starting to give me the creeps – do you think he was eavesdropping while we were talking?”

“Maybe, but it’s hard hearing what someone is talking about from behind,” replied Harry as he stared at Chadron walking away.

“I say, let’s call him suspect number one,” said Hermione, with fresh determination dawning on her face.

“Okay. How about McGonagall?”

“Number two.”

“And Snape?”

“Ohhh, I’d love to put something on him,” Hermione said, her ears turning pink. “Suspect number one and a half.”

The mood in the Great Hall this morning was somber. Missing was the sense of security brought about by Dumbledore’s presence as his high chair was empty. The house elves in the kitchen might have been feeling sad, too, because the taste of all the food (including the bacon) were woefully bland. The most subdued of all the houses was Gryffindor. Everybody from Slytherin, on the other hand, was getting cockier. Oddly, Professor McGonagall was nowhere to be seen – her plate full of food was untouched.

“Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff aren’t speaking to us now,” said Neville gloomily. “They find anyone from Gryffindor very dishonorable.” Ginny and the Weasley twins did not come for breakfast today, too. Harry thought they might be feeling too ashamed because of what their brother did. He was feeling very sorry for the Weasley kids, but the arrival of Owl Post made him feel especially more sorry for two other people in mind.

Hermione was taking out a subscription with the Daily Prophet, and the look on her face after what she saw in the headlines worried Harry.

“Think of Dungbombs hitting the fan,” throwing the paper at Harry. “Take a look! Oh, I hope Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would be okay.”

The paper read:

Youngest Son of Weasley Linked to Attempted Murder of Albus Dumbledore!

Hogwarts – Tragedy struck last night in this fine School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The distinguished Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, is reported to be in very perilous condition after Professor Minerva McGonagall aborted an attempt for his life in the hands of fifth-year student Ronald Weasley, under the Gryffindor House and the youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley.

The motive for the murder attempt was the alleged impending expulsion of the student who was earlier caught committing a serious offence. “The Headmaster was signing the expulsion order of Ron Weasley when he used the Death Curse on him,” said Draco Malfoy, also a student of the school. “That’s cold-blooded treachery, and he should be locked up in Azkaban.” It isn’t clear how the student learned to use the Death Curse, an unforgivable crime enough to sentence a wizard with a life term in Azkaban.

The Daily Prophet will publish further developments as soon as more reports from Hogwarts come in.

Harry looked around for Draco Malfoy, who was seated in the Slytherin table. He was smirking in a very satisfied way as Slytherin girls swooned over him. Apparently Malfoy thought his name being mentioned in the Daily Prophet made him a star overnight. Harry suddenly had the strong urge to run straight over to where Malfoy sat and punch him on the nose, but he quickly returned to his senses when he felt Hermione’s hand shake his arm.

“I suppose we won’t have Herbology after Care of Magical Creatures,” said Hermione, biting her lower lip. “Sixth years are complaining Professor Sprout refuses to let any Gryffindors near the Greenhouses. I do hope this doesn’t get worse for us or else we might all be packing up for home early.” That thought made Harry turn pale.

And Harry, Hermione, and the rest of their classmates didn’t have Care of Magical Creatures after breakfast either. They waited for Hagrid to get out of his hut for class but they only heard him howling all the time from inside. After a good half hour of waiting, all of the students turned their backs to go back to the castle, the Gryffindors giving up on having something to learn for the rest of the morning. Except, of course, Harry and Hermione. They stayed behind to visit and see how Hagrid was.

”Can’ believe this is all happening!” he wailed, slamming a large tankard of old scotch whiskey on his table inside the hut. “I reckon Hogwarts is now breaking apart from all it’s been through! An’ it all happened on me Birthday!”

Harry and Hermione were being distracted by a small, tired-looking, and grumpy owl which was making loud hoots at Hagrid, a purple envelope still tied on one of its legs. A small stack of unopened envelopes lay on another table beside him. It looked like Hagrid didn’t feel like reading and writing letters after what’s happened. “I can’ imagine life at Hogwarts without Dumbledore and…” said Hagrid, but he just stopped talking.

“Er, aren’t you going to open your letters, Hagrid?” said Harry. The owl, upon hearing him, gratefully fluttered its wings vigorously, hoping to be noticed.

“Nah, who cares about letters at a time like this?” said Hagrid in a resigned voice, but he took out a pair of scissors and cut the string loose from the owl. Without waiting for anything the owl flew out quickly, but not without making a mess out of Hagrid’s hair. Hagrid didn’t seem to mind that at all and just threw the letter to the other table, adding another unopened envelope to the stack.

“You look terrible, Hagrid,” said a deeply concerned Hermione. “I think you had too much to drink again – I’ll take that…” she took the tankard and went outside to empty it. She lost count of how many times she’d done this already.

“An’ the news that poor ol’ Ron tried to kill him – that’s Codswollop!” Hagrid snarled.

“Then you don’t believe Ron did it, do you, Hagrid?” said Harry.

“Of course I don’! Now why do you think he’d do a thing like that after what Dumbledore has done fer him?” Hagrid reasoned, and he took a large tablecloth and blew his nose on it.

“So who do you think did it, Hagrid?” asked Hermione when she returned inside, hoping to find a lead out of Hagrid’s opinion. “We’re trying to prove it wasn’t Ron but everything seems to point to him from what we know now.”

“Been wonderin’ the same thing meself,” said Hagrid, finally calming down and looking sober. “Okay, who do ye think did it, you two?”

“We think the Head Boy has something to do with this,” said Harry. “He’s one of our suspects, but we don’t have anything on him yet.”

“Because he was there in Dumbledore’s office when it all happened,” added Hermione while wiping the used tankard with a small towel with her back turned away from Hagrid.

A big smile lit Hagrid’s face. “Ar, an’ there got ter be others behind this, too, but I bet my pumpkin patch this Chadron guy has got a lot ter do with this. I don’ trust him at all, not even Dumbledore.”

Hermione whipped around, surprised. “Dumbledore doesn’t trust the Head Boy? I didn’t know that.”

“No one’s supposed ter. Just between me and Dumbledore. But I think he’d don’t mind I told ye now after what’s happened…I was givin’ ye three a hint yesterday without spilling our secret. Now ye know why I told especially Hermione here not to ter trust him, ar?”

“I was already beginning to this morning,” said Hermione, frowning. “Now that you said it, he’s not going to take anything from me from now on.”

“Do you know any reason why Dumbledore wouldn’t trust Jack Chadron, Hagrid?” said Harry, now full of interest.

“Sorry te tell ye, Harry, but I don’ know why,” said Hagrid with a look of disappointment on his face. “But whatever Dumbledore thinks about ‘im I agree with him two hundred percent.”

“I know this might shock you, Hagrid,” said Harry carefully. “But we also think McGonagall might have something to do with this, too.” Hagrid didn’t look surprised, but oddly sad. “Yeah, I know it’s sad to think that Hogwarts is breaking apart…”

“What’s wrong, Hagrid?” said Hermione, cutting Harry off because she read Hagrid’s face.

“Professor McGonagall…” Hagrid said, his voice gradually shaking. “Somebody found her in her office early this mornin’. They brought her to the hospital wing – I think she…she…might have been too upset an’…an’ tried to kill herself with some kind of a potion.”

5. Emergency Decisions

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 4 “Emergency Decisions”

Word of McGonagall’s suicide attempt was impressively kept under wraps because all the students only seemed to talk about Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione observed. Both of them, of course, found this very alarming. The usual festive atmosphere in the Gryffindor common room was now gone as the two of them got in.

“Emergency prefect’s meeting tonight after dinner, Hermione,” said Dean Thomas as he was passing by her. “The Head Boy wants to talk all about security.”

“Okay thanks,” Hermione replied slowly. She and Harry found Ginny seated alone on the largest couch of the common room and went over to her.

“Dad told us by advance owl that he’d come here today by Hogwarts Express to see Ron,” said Ginny, who was still bleary eyed, to Harry and Hermione. “He’s been totally disgraced now in the Ministry – and he’s considering quitting his job…he told Fred and George to pack up and we’re going to get back to the Burrow with him. Mum’s too upset of what’s happened she’s not talking anymore.” And suddenly she just ran up the spiral staircase towards the girls’ room, crying.

“Oh, Harry. I feel really sorry for all them, I am,” said Hermione, who now had tears welling in her eyes. “What’re we going to do now?”

Harry just slumped in on one of the squashy armchairs away from all the people present inside and thought real hard. He couldn’t stop feeling very sorry for the Weasleys, too, and he desperately looked for a way to deal with the problem. Anything. “I was hoping to talk to McGonagall today, but I think now that’s a little impossible,” he said softly at Hermione so that nobody else could hear except her.

“What for? She knows you already heard what she said last night,” Hermione said in an equally quiet voice.

“Of course, I’d still ask the same questions, but I wanted to see how she responded to them. You see, you’d know if she’s lying because all you have to is to look straight in her eyes. That’s all I could think of now.”

“Don’t try to be funny at a time like this, Harry,” Hermione said seriously, “You, stare at McGonagall’s eyes? I’d probably see a crow turn white before you could do that.”

“Oh, shut up. Okay, so you got a better plan, then?” Harry said irritably.

Hermione thought real hard and her face lit up. She pulled Harry out of the common room and found a secluded spot beside the lake where she was certain no one could be around within a hundred yards.

“I got it,” she said under the shade of a tree. “Since the Head Boy is our prime suspect, one of us should search his room for clues.”

“Are you crazy? That’s too risky!”

“Why, you got other things in mind?” challenged Hermione, both of her hands on her hips.

Harry couldn’t think of any and gave up. “Okay, you got me. So how do you think we do it?”

“Okay, all you have to do is to get in, look for anything that we need, and get out. It’s as simple as that. But first we got to make sure he won’t get in his room while you search it,” Hermione said.

“M-me?” stammered Harry.

“If you don’t want to do it, I will,” Hermione said bravely.

“Okay…okay, I’ll do it. Then how do we make sure he even gets out of his room?”

“I’ve got it all figured out,” Hermione said a matter-of-factly. “Didn’t Dean just tell me we’re going to have a prefect’s meeting tonight? I know where the Head Boy’s secret entrance is – I’ll show you where. You use the invisibility cloak and wait at the right spot beside the portrait hole. When it opens, wait for him to clear the hole and you slip in and do your work. I’m sure he’ll get something from his room before the meetings start – he does that all the time.”

“Oh, all right,” said Harry. “But first we have to get the cloak back – it’s under the statue of the one-eyed witch remember? So, I just get in and look around the room and get out before the meeting ends, right? Sounds simple enough for me.”

“B-uuut there’s still one more thing you need to know, Harry,” said Hermione with a look on her face that made Harry feel nervous. “The portrait hole can’t be opened by anybody else except the Head Boy – not even from the inside.”

“Is there anything else you want to tell me, Hermione?” Harry said exasperatedly.

“Yeah, like there’s a blind spot just beside the portrait hole inside the room,” said Hermione quickly. “You can hide right there and wait for the Head Boy to get back in. You can quietly get out then.” Hermione beamed at Harry, effectively hiding the fact that she only thought of that remedy seconds ago.

“What if he decides not to sleep in his room tonight?”

“Well, that means you’ve got to prepare for a long wait,” Hermione admitted. “That’s the worse case I can think of.” She looked at Harry who looked like he was still considering the idea. ”Oh, go on, Harry. You’ve been through close calls like this before. We only have about until tomorrow morning to clear Ron.”

“I didn’t say ‘no’, Hermione,” Harry said grinning, and Hermione smiled back.

“Our meetings usually take at least an hour. You’ll have plenty of time. Then we’ll rendezvous in the trophy room, beside the Quidditch cups, a.s.a.p.”

-o0o-

The rest of the day proved uneventful. Harry and Hermione looked for ways to pass up the time, while keeping themselves calm for their plan tonight. They decided to retrieve Harry’s Invisibility Cloak a few minutes past six in the evening when most students were back at their dorms cleaning themselves up for dinner.

And so they did. They casually walked the corridors toward the statue of the One-Eyed Witch where its hump opens to a tunnel leading to Hogsmeade, narrowly missing Mr. Filch who was in his usual vindictive mood tonight. Just a few paces away from the statue where the firelights were all extinguished, they heard voices getting nearer. One of them sounded like Snape’s, and Harry pulled Hermione to hide behind a fat suit of armor and under the shadows.

“The Hogwarts Express just arrived, Professor,” said a voice much like Jack Chadron’s. “Ministry Wizards are making their way towards the castle.”

“How many of them?” said Snape.

“About ten, sir. Ron Weasley’s father is also with them, but he’s not part of the ten who’d been sent here. I guess he just wants to see his son. Ah, I think that’s them now.”

“Severus, old boy,” said one of the Wizards who looked like to be in charge of the group. “Marvelous to see you. Still have the suspect, I trust.”

“He’s still in there, and you can take him if you want tomorrow morning, Maximus,” said Snape with a hint of impatience in his voice. Harry had the impression the Potions master couldn’t wait to get rid of Ron, but Snape was actually irritated being called “old boy”.

“Ah, no need to wait that long, Severus. We just got here, yes, but we still have plenty important things to do at our offices tomorrow. Wish we could stay longer to nostalgize, but we’re here for only until midnight tonight and bring the suspect to Azkaban using the Hogwarts Express. Cornelius wants to have a word with him first thing tomorrow.”

Harry gasped, but not loud enough for anybody else to hear.

“That’s fine with me,” said Snape, his voice relaxing now. “But you still need to inspect the crime scene, I believe. I’m afraid I’m the only witness left aside from the Head Boy here – I assume you already knew about Professor McGonagall?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in the darkness and Harry was able to read Hermione’s mouth: “What about us?”

“We have. Very unfortunate that could happen to Minerva. Very unfortunate.” Then came a long pause between the conversation. “But I do hope Madam Pomfrey can heal her very soon? She’s an important witness. Anyway, Clarence Norton here is one of the finest investigators in the Ministry. He’ll be able to record everything we need to know within an hour.”

“Come, I’ll show you Dumbledore’s office and we’ll have a private dinner in my own after you’ve done your work The Head Boy here will answer your questions first because he has important matters to take care of tonight,” Snape said as they started to walk away and out of sight. As soon as Harry was very certain he and Hermione were all alone again, they emerged from behind the large suit of armor.

“Harry, did I hear what I think I heard?” hissed Hermione, looking pale in the dim corridor.

“I guess we heard the same thing,” said Harry, feeling pressured now. “We don’t have until tomorrow morning – we only have until midnight tonight! This is beginning to look impossible.”

“What’re we going to do?” Hermione asked desperately.

“The plan’s still on…it’s still a go. Whatever happens, we must still clear up Ron’s name, whatever it takes.”

“Okay.” They went to the statue and Hermione pulled out her wand to tap it on the One-Eyed Witch’s hump then muttered “Dissendium”. The hump opened; Harry went inside the statue and got back again in mere seconds with his Invisibility Cloak draped now on his shoulder, then Hermione closed the hump again.

“I’m sure the Head Boy’s not in his room now,” Hermione said. “There’s no point of waiting for him there because he’ll be in the Great Hall for dinner, so we might as well have dinner ourselves. I think we need the energy.”

“And we’ll know he’s going to get his stuff in his room when we all finish supper,” said Harry thoughtfully. “That’s when I’ll go into position.”

“Right, you are, Harry,” Hermione said with her thumb-up. “It’s almost time for dinner – and don’t forget to hide your cloak.”

-o0o-

Dinner usually took a half hour to forty-five minutes, and one-by-one students stood up with full stomachs and started to get out of the Great Hall. Jack Chadron finally stood up to go to his personal quarters. Hermione yanked down Harry’s robe a little too hard. “You know where to meet me after you get out,” hissed Hermione. “I’ll be starting my way towards the meeting room.”

“Yeah, wish me luck,” said Harry as he straightened up his robe.

Harry slowly followed Jack out of the Hall towards the Head Boy’s corridor. He did it in a skillfully non-conspicuous manner as not to attract attention. When he made sure Jack Chadron got inside the Head Boy’s room, he looked around to make sure no one was within eyesight and fumbled for his Invisibility Cloak under his robes. He quickly covered himself with the Cloak, making him totally invisible, and positioned near the portrait hole for a quick run inside when it opened.

After a good five minutes of waiting, the hole creaked wide, and Jack got out. Harry, still under the Cloak, darted towards the hole stealthily and made it just in time before he got pinned by the closing door. After the portrait hole closed behind him, he wisely didn’t take off the cloak yet, because after a couple of minutes, Jack returned to get the notebook he forgot to bring.

As soon as Harry was sure Jack wouldn’t be back for a long time, he dropped off his cloak on the floor and began rummaging for clues. He hoped to get anything that would help give the Ministry of Magic reasonable doubt that Ron could have made the attempt to murder Dumbledore. The problem was, Harry thought he didn’t know what he was looking for.

There were stacks of books on the study table, with a large pile of parchment laying and gathering dust. He could probably gamble the time looking for documentary evidence, but Harry didn’t believe he could go through this many pieces of paper – he wished Hermione were around because she probably was the best speed reader of Hogwarts. Maybe he could hope for pure luck, and pick the right paper to bag it. Well, he’d start with something, Harry thought, and flipped through the first piece of parchment.

Transfiguration notes...potions recipes…just student stuff here and there. It took him a few minutes too long to find something, and Harry was starting to feel worried. He kept looking at the clock, and time was running out…until he chanced on a small red envelope deeply lost in the pile of parchment. He took it and read “Black Cauldron” written on its face. “Hmmm, I wonder what this means,” Harry muttered. “Jack Chadron – Black Cauldron. Close, but doesn’t mean anything.” Still it was too interesting to pass up.

What was written in it alarmed Harry a great deal.

Black Cauldron,

The Dark Lord is not pleased with your performance. The order was to kill Dumbledore, not just to put him to sleep. We thought you have been thoroughly trained to administer the curse but we were mistaken. The grand plan will not push through until we are certain Dumbledore’s body is lifeless and cold. We expect you to finish him off as soon as possible, whatever it takes, but keep you cover.

As a personal note, you have done well with throwing the blame to Ron Weasley. The negative effect on his father’s career is what I have imagined. Our people in Azkaban have been alerted to Ron Weasley’s arrival. They have been given their assignments, and they will make it look like an accident.

I must emphasize again to you again the importance of the mud-blood lover Dumbledore’s death. Complete what you’ve started, and do it for the glory of the Dark Lord. Your service to him shall be rewarded. Destroy this letter after reading it.

Harry’s heart was pounding painfully. He couldn’t believe what he was holding in his hand. There’s actually an ongoing conspiracy to kill Dumbledore, and the order came from none other than Voldermort himself. Ron was just a pawn, and worse, he will be murdered once he gets to Azkaban! He had to stop this from happening, and all he had to do was show this letter to the Ministry Wizards who were sent in to Hogwarts. But was this enough to prove anything and clear Ron, and pin down Jack Chadron as one of the conspirators?

So far the evidence was only circumstantial, and he was certain the investigators would surely find his story incredible. They would only dismiss his efforts as some cheap ploy to prevent his best friend’s impending sentence to Azkaban, and they would think this letter was just made up. He needed something else very incriminating, and fast. If he can’t, then Ron is a real goner.

Harry was deciding if he’d bring this letter out or not. Would the Head Boy notice the letter is missing if he did take it out with him? After all, it was deeply tucked under the pile of parchment. He’d show this to Hermione, he finally decided, and they’d add this as part of other clues they may find along the way. He wasn’t afraid of Jack Chadron, and Harry was sure the Head Boy had no reason to suspect that he was in his room. Jack Chadron would have to suspect Snape or the other Ministry Wizards for all he cared.

Harry knew his time was up, and quickly covered himself up with his Cloak. He waited patiently near the portrait hole to make his escape when Jack Chadron walked in. A few minutes from now…

Harry waited. As he did, he thought when he’d meet Hermione in the trophy room, they had to discuss an emergency plan to save Ron whatever it takes in light of what he had discovered. Then the waiting turned into a half hour, and an hour, and another hour. Harry was already dreading the worse: Jack Chadron would probably not get back. A lot of time was wasted that was best used to save his best friend, and he could not do anything about it because he was trapped inside the Head Boy’s room. He wondered if Hermione gave up waiting for him in the trophy room. Harry wanted to look for more clues, but he didn’t want to risk missing the door when it suddenly opened.

The clock chimed ten o’clock in the evening. The train would leave at twelve midnight, and whatever he and Hermione would plan to do before that, they would never be able to do even if he could get out now. He scanned the walls for any other means to escape, but as he was looking around, he heard footsteps coming and getting nearer. Harry prayed it was the Head Boy, and he got what he wished for – it was him. The door opened, but to Harry’s horror, he was in the opposite side of its swing. He couldn’t reach to the other side on time and it closed on him. Wide-eyed with cold sweat running down his face, he wheeled around and looked at the Head Boy (who didn’t feel Harry at all) walk over to study table and opened some books.

Harry now slumped himself on the floor, not believing he was so stupid to remember how the door swung. He was sure now Ron was good as dead. Harry knew he would not forgive himself for making such a blunder at the cost of Ron’s life. He just looked at the Head Boy there for minutes sitting, writing, and studying as if it were a normal day. Harry’s brain was getting numb, he didn’t know what to do, even doing the simplest thing as to knock on the door as if somebody was outside to make Jack Chadron open it to see who it was. But he didn’t have to anyway. When Jack started to frantically look for something, there was a knock at the door. Jack Chadron, with a puzzled look in his face, went over to the door to answer it. It was Hermione.

“Oh, it’s you, Granger,” said Jack irritably. “Why are you here at this time of night? This better be important.”

“Sorry to have bothered you, sir, because I didn’t understand one part of the meeting, sir,” she replied, slightly panting. “I thought I needed to hear again what you said about the curfew hours…”

The door was now wide enough to allow Harry to slip out and he seized the opportunity. He gave Hermione a soft pat on her shoulders to let her know he was already outside.

“You mean to tell me you came all the way here to disturb me in my sleep just because you weren’t paying attention at all back there, Granger? Ten points from Gryffindor, and just go ask the other prefects, not me,” Jack growled.

Before she could apologize, Jack slammed the door, and the twelfth-century woman in the portrait that hid it stuck her tongue out at Hermione. When they got inside the trophy room, Harry removed his cloak. “Thanks for saving me up there…”

“What took you?” said Hermione fiercely at Harry. “I knew right then when you hadn’t come back for ages you were still up there stuck…”

“I’m sorry I goofed, but you gotta hear this, Hermione, we haven’t got time!” said Harry urgently, cutting her off. He told her what he discovered, and when he finished, Hermione had both of her hands over her mouth.

“Oh, Harry, what’re we going to do? It’s almost midnight!” Hermione said, starting to panic.

“I don’t know, but I gotta save Ron,” said Harry desperately.

“But how?”

“I’ll break him out!”

“What? But that’s impossible, Harry! We can’t get through those trolls, they’ll pound us to death before we could get a few feet to the door…” Hermione normally would have opposed this kind of idea, but because Ron’s life was in mortal danger, she didn’t want to make things much more difficult for Harry.

Harry thought for that for a moment, and desperately thought of other things. And then it hit him. “I got it, through a back door!” Hermione scratched her head; she didn’t remember seeing any backdoors in the cell.

“Hogsmeade! I’ll get to the Hogwarts Express before they can, and I’ll think of a way to get him out…”

“You mean you’re not bringing me along?” said Hermione, looking deeply disappointed. “We’re in this together, aren’t we?”

Harry managed to let out a sigh in admiration for Hermione. She was staring at him now and she sincerely wanted to do a dangerous thing like this (even risking expulsion or arrest) to save her best friend. But Harry thought otherwise, not that he didn’t want her because she might become an annoyance, but rather she could still do something back here at Hogwarts that could help Ron or him. Harry regretted that the circumstances came to a point that he had to leave Hermione all to herself, but at the present, this seemed to be the only thing left to do because Ron was in much more danger than anyone else. He explained this to Hermione, and it took a long time for her to accept this. In the end, she understood how important it was if she stayed behind.

“You’re right, Harry,” said Hermione finally. “I’ll keep on looking for more clues here, and I’ll think of something to protect Dumbledore. But I just hope we’re making the right decision because this’ll make Ron a fugitive and you’ll be a wanted man for helping him escape.” She was starting to get teary eyed again.

“But better than having Ron dead for a crime he didn’t commit,” said Harry. “I’m really, really sorry if I have to leave all the burden on you, Hermione. But I got to save Ron. I know you’re very strong - and I have faith in you. Ron and I are counting on you, okay?”

“Oh, I can’t believe this is all happening, Harry.” Hermione said, now crying, and she gave Harry a very strong hug. “Harry, promise me you’ll be okay? Give my love to Ron, too.”

“I promise, Hermione,” said Harry softly. “Here’s the letter, and hide it very well. We need it, and Jack might be looking for it now. He might not even suspect one of us now if I hadn’t blundered back there…”

Hermione removed her Gryffindor scarf and neatly placed it inside in Harry’s robe pocket; Harry didn’t need one because he was already wearing his own. “This is for Ron,” she said. She knew that this wasn’t enough for the cold nights Ron would be facing, but maybe this would help a little. Grateful, Harry said “We better get back to the One-Eyed Witch. If I’d hurry, I could still beat them to the Hogwarts Express.”

They both hid under the Invisibility Cloak and hurried towards the statue. When they reached it, Harry opened the hump with his wand and climbed in.

“I think you need the cloak more than we do,” Harry said to a surprised Hermione. “Use it, and please promise me you’ll be careful. I don’t want Jack to catch you – he’s almost a dark wizard now. It’ll be all my fault if you got hurt…”

“Thanks, and don’t worry, I’ll be careful,” said Hermione. “I think I know what to do.”

“Send Hedwig if you think it’s allright for us to surface already, and we’ll be here as fast as we can for you.”

“Got it,” said Hermione, struggling to look her bravest. “Harry, we’ve spent too much time. Go, or you’ll miss the train! Please be careful, okay?”

They both exchanged a last smile, and the hump of the One-Eyed witch closed. Harry hurried through the tunnel with a very heavy heart. He could not stop blaming himself for abandoning Hermione to continue doing what they both started. He knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if she got caught and died for him and Ron. But still, if he hadn’t left her and allowed Hermione to go with him, then there would be no chance to find the truth at all, and they will be running from the law for the rest of their life. All three of them, he thought. No, he didn’t want that. Or if he hadn’t chosen this path to break Ron free, Ron was as good as dead, too. Either way, he had a big dilemma in his hands.

Harry prayed there wouldn’t come a day he’ll regret this decision. Their future now depended entirely on Hermione because of the choice he made and he can’t be around to help her when she needed him most - now that he and Ron are soon going to become fugitives of the Ministry.

6. Daedalus, Graham, and Maximus

Chapter 5 Daedelus Graham and Maximus

Walking towards the end of the tunnel from the One-eyed Witch normally took an hour of walking, but Harry managed to cut it to three quarters. He didn’t want to take any chances and miss the Hogwarts Express because doing so would mean the end of Ron. He looked at his watch and it told him he only had about fifteen minutes hour left.

At last, he reached the bottom of the trapdoor that opened to Honeydukes, Harry and Ron’s favorite shop in Hogsmeade where all kinds of sweets can be found, including the odd blood-tasting lollipops. He listened carefully for any sign of movement above, and after making sure there weren’t, Harry opened the trap door ever so quietly and got in the cellar of Honeydukes.

It was almost midnight, so the tenants would surely be asleep then, Harry thought. He had to hurry up, or else the train leaves in a few minutes, and hurrying up meant that he would get careless. He walked briskly from the cellar, and got up to the showroom where the main door was at the end of the dimly lit room. He was too pre-occupied with reaching it to get out that he didn’t notice the witch who tended the shop was up late checking inventories. Harry was halfway towards the door (already passing by her), and he was startled when he heard a loud thump and a high-pitch scream from behind him – he tripped on a box full of liquorice wands, and fell down to the floor.

“EEEEEK! Burglar inside! HELP!” shrieked the witch.

“N-no – I just want to get to…” Harry tried to explain as he held out his hands in front of the witch to signal her to stop screaming, but she didn’t. Harry heard running footsteps upstairs and he thought this was absolutely the best time to make a break for it. He got up on his feet, ran towards the main door and fumbled with the locks. “EEEEEEEEEK!” the witch kept on screaming (like she hadn’t breathed at all for more air) and this didn’t help Harry in any way, because he seemed to have forgotten how a dead bolt worked from all the noise.

Still struggling with the last lock, Harry saw a middle-aged wizard emerge from the other room across the doorway holding a wand at the wrong end. He might have been the husband of the screaming witch, but Harry didn’t care to ask. The wizard looked like he was also surprised seeing Harry so soon (who was staring wide-eyed back at him) he froze completely. Harry had finally released the last lock, opened the door with a slam, and ran full out of Honeydukes along the dark cobbled street without daring to look back.

The wizard chased Harry and stopped just outside of his porch and yelled after him, “And don’t ever come back!!!” Some neighbors were awaken by all the commotion; some of them were peeking out of their windows thru the smallest gaps of their curtains trying to see what was going on. The witch at Honeydukes had already stopped screaming and said, “Did that boy look just like Harry Potter?” Her husband just stared at her.

Sweating furiously, Harry kept on running towards the general direction of the train station and disappeared in the shadows. He had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. At least the whole encounter did something good, he thought, because he already covered most of the distance from Honeydukes to the Hogsmeade train station remarkably in record time.

Although he was still heavily panting, he inched closer towards the Hogwarts Express and scouted for any guards that might be patrolling the station. The amazing thing about Hogsmeade station, he just remembered, is that it didn’t need to have any guards at all. It was always Hagrid who met them when they arrived all the way from King’s Cross Station in London, and the Hogwarts Express had only one driver and a cart lady for a crew. So the chances of being spotted going inside the train were almost nil, Harry thought, though he didn’t want to risk it, unless the Ministry Wizards got here first.

Still, he made sure no one saw him get aboard the train and hid himself in one of the compartments at the last car where all the lights were off. Harry expected that the Ministry Wizards holding Ron will come any moment, and he wasn’t disappointed: he now heard voices outside, the most prominent was that of Maximus’.

“In here, son,” said Maximus, apparently talking to Ron. “You’ll be locked up in car number three and don’t try to break any windows. They’ve been subjected to an Unbreakable Charm and you’ll just be wasting your time and energy.” Harry heard many footsteps walking about around the train, and one was too loud that he thought he’d be discovered soon, but to his great relief, they went farther away.

Harry felt the train start to move and gain speed, and he heard a door lock and a different voice this time that sounded tired. “Do we really need to stand guard and watch the boy all the time, Maximus?” said a wizard, yawning. “We’ve all been awake for the last thirty six hours and we need to get some sleeeeehhp.”

There was a long pause; Harry was sure that Maximus was deciding what to do. “Oh, I suppose not. The boy can’t go anywhere, anyway, Bruce, can he? Let’s hit the sack in car number two. The seats there can be made into beds…”

The train now cruised the rails in its normal speed, and they were now heading south. Harry decided to wait for a couple of hours before making his move – he thought it would be safer when everybody had fallen asleep rather than breaking Ron out now when the almost all the wizards were still functionally alert. He didn’t know how many of them were in the train, but he hoped he’d never had to find out.

Fighting off drowsiness, Harry managed to wait out the two hours he set for himself and when he thought it was time, he started to get out of his compartment. There were no other sounds now except what the Hogwarts Express was making. He peered along the corridor to make sure no one was around and he inched his way, wand out, to where he thought Ron was.

It was easy to spot which compartment Ron could have been thrown into. All of the compartment doors in the car were open, except for one – Harry slowly crept toward it, and felt it was locked. Harry peered in the compartment and he saw that Ron was alone inside, who seemed to be asleep, lying on one of the seats in a fetal position. Harry tapped the door lock and muttered “Alohomora” and the door quietly opened. To shut out any sound, Harry closed the door again and moved slowly towards Ron.

“Ron,” Harry whispered as he nudged him gently. “Wake up. It’s me, Harry.”

Ron opened his eyes and when he saw Harry in front of him, his jaw dropped. “H-harry?” he said with disbelief. “What’re you doing here…”

“Shhh,” warned Harry. “Don’t make any noise; I’m here to get you out.”

“But you shouldn’t have – you’ll get yourself into a lot of trouble…”

“I can’t explain right now, but you’re in more danger than you think,” said Harry seriously.

“Wh-why?”

“I’ll tell you later, but first we gotta get out of here.” Ron still had a bewildered look on his face, but he nodded to Harry. Like a good friend, he believed Harry without asking anything further questions – until later at least. They both listened intently for any signs of movement outside, but there weren’t so Harry opened the compartment door again to get out. Their hearts pounding, they both moved back slowly towards the last car and hid themselves again in one of the dark compartments.

“Harry,” Ron hissed. “Thanks, but I don’t want you to get into trouble with the Ministry or…”

“Ron, I told you we’ll talk about this later,” said Harry impatiently. “First, we need to find a way how to get off this train. You need to get out of here, trust me.”

“That’d be a big problem and I really don’t want to jump off…maybe we could detach this car from the rest of the train?”

Harry smiled at Ron. If Ron were a muggle, Harry would have thought he had watched too much TV. It was worth a try anyway. He pulled Ron towards the car connectors outside and found the pin that held the car with the train. “How do you work it, Harry?” said Ron.

“I think we just release the lock and pull this thing off…” said Harry as he grasped the pin and pulled it up hard. With a small jolt, the car detached itself from the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Ron felt their car going gradually slower, and the next car in front of them getting farther away with the train.

“Hey, that was simple,” said a triumphant Harry as their car used up all of its forward momentum and stopped moving. Shortly however they heard the Hogwarts Express, which was more than two hundred feet in front of them, use its emergency brakes to screech to a halt.

“Uh-oh. I think the driver knew this car was missing…” said Ron, looking at the direction of the train.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here before they find out you’re gone, too,” said Harry urgently. They both jumped off to the wet grass and ran as fast as they could from the railway to disappear into the night. There were some angry voices traveling through the silent air behind them. “I guess they already have…” surmised Harry.

“Where are we going, Harry?” said Ron, now panting. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Anywhere, as long as we’re away from those wizards.” They both climbed a small hill and when they reached the top, Harry stopped and squinted under the dim moonlight to decide where to go next. “I see some light right there, but we’re not going that way – too obvious…”

“I think we’ll just walk until we get too far from here…” suggested Ron.

“Okay, then after that we can hide just around some woods for the while until everything calms down,” said Harry, still squinting. He took off his glasses, tapped his wand on it, and muttered “Oculus Nocturno!” Harry’s glasses could now magnify light many times than normal, enabling him to see in the dark.

“Hey, cool,” said an impressed Ron. “Where’d you learn to do that spell?”

Harry grinned and said “Who else, from Hermione.” But he felt his chest feel heavier again as the thought reminded him of Hermione who was left behind in Hogwarts. He didn’t want to talk any further with Ron yet as they were still in danger of being caught by the wizards. “Let’s get there before they catch us – I’ll guide you in the dark, Ron.”

“Yeah, thanks, and please watch out for any traps around the field – the dung kind,” Ron managed to joke.

“C’mon,” said Harry. They both hiked for hours and stopped just at the edge of a grove of trees. Feeling very tired, they both slumped on the ground and leaned on a very tall and thick tree. He and Ron were already wearing thick clothes, and Harry remembered Hermione’s scarf inside his robe pocket. “Hermione sends you her love, too, Ron,” said Harry as he handed over the scarf to him. Ron took the scarf gratefully and he immediately wound it around his neck.

“How is she?” said Ron quietly.

“Very much worried about what’s happening to us,” replied Harry, picking a few leaves and throwing them back on the ground. “I didn’t mean to leave her all alone back there, but I didn’t want her to get into trouble with the law either.”

“Harry, thanks again for getting me out there, but why’re you doing this?” asked Ron gently. “You know when they’d find out you’re missing they’ll really think you helped me get away and you’ll be branded a criminal. And – and – they’d really think I’m guilty because I ran away, too.”

Harry patiently told Ron what he and Hermione did tonight and about the letter he discovered. “So, you see, once you got in Azkaban you’ll be murdered, too,” he concluded.

Ron’s mouth was hanging open. “Why me? What’s everything got to do with me?”

“I dunno,” said Harry, thinking hard. “But Volde – I mean You-Know-Who himself is trying to put Hogwarts in a weakened state – getting Dumbledore killed can guarantee that – I don’t know what his real intentions are. And looks like it’s working ‘cause nobody knows what to do anymore back there.”

“Why didn’t you just show McGonagall the note? I could’ve been released from jail, and Chadron sent to Azkaban instead of me, and everything would come back to normal once Dumbledore wakes up…”

“McGonagall’s out of action, Ron, she tried to kill herself the other night.”

Ron was further shocked by the news, but this didn’t stop him to make up more theories. “I bet it was also Chadron who poisoned her to keep her quiet…”

Harry laughed a bit. “Yeah, maybe. I’d want to know the truth about this like you do but the point is we have no proof. Handing the note to the teachers couldn’t have been a good idea – Snape would’ve torn it apart in a heartbeat when he knew it came from me.”

“So after this, what’s going to happen to us?” Ron said anxiously.

Harry just hung his head as he stared at the wet grass. Rescuing Ron from an untimely death was on top of his list tonight, but he never really stopped to think earlier today what would happen once he accomplished that. After this, he’d forget about graduating in Hogwarts and living a quiet muggle or wizard life as far from Voldemort as possible. At worse, he’d now be looking to the rest of his life as an outlaw, pursued by righteous wizards, and probably never be able to trust anybody anymore just to save his hide from prison – for as long as possible. So this is how Sirius might be feeling right now, he thought.

He wished he could communicate and tell his godfather what’s happening to him now, but he had no means to do that just yet. He didn’t have Hedwig with him, and all he had in his pocket are a few galleons, just enough for him and Ron to buy food for a few days. Going to Gringotts was very risky as Diagon Alley was always full of Ministry Wizards. He couldn’t even remember how Sirius managed to buy him a Firebolt broomstick while on the run.

Harry was sure Sirius will believe his story once he told him what happened, and getting his attention seemed to be a good idea at this moment – he had to find a way how to do that. He’ll probably find some owl post office to send the message. Sirius might scold him as soon as they met, but that would only be a simple god-fatherly reaction to his situation now, and ultimately he’ll just tell him and Ron to stick to him evading the law, anyway. Sirius will understand, he thought, because it’s always a good decision to save the life of a best friend from death, especially when he doesn’t deserve such a fate.

“Come, Ron,” said Harry when he saw Ron start to shiver. “Let’s get a little deeper inside the woods and build a campfire.” They both walked about a hundred meters through the forest and found a small spot where the firelight couldn’t be seen from anywhere outside. Harry and Ron collected many twigs and put them into a pile. They didn’t need a match – and being wizards in training had its practical uses.

Harry placed the tip of his wand to the nearest twig and muttered, “Inflamaren!” A hot spark blasted from his wand and lit the pile of twigs into a bonfire. This gave them the needed heat to stay warm for the night. Ron checked what he had in his pockets – he just a small sandwich he made out of his last dinner, and the flask that Hermione gave him the other day.

“This is all we have, Harry,” said Ron apologetically.

Harry smiled. “That’s fine, Ron, we can save that for tomorrow. Tell you what, we’re going to the nearest village some time tomorrow to buy what we can with all the money I have. I’m sure no one will have known that we’re on the run yet.”

“Okay,” said Ron with an extreme look of anxiety in his face. “D’you think everything’s gonna be allright, Harry?”

“I’m sure we’ll find a way out of this – at least we can keep on hoping Hermione’s still on the case. I think I’ll buy her all the butterbeers she wants if she finds something…”

Just then, a gray owl swooped down and delivered an envelope to Harry. “What the,” he muttered. It didn’t wait for Harry for a response and flew immediately back and out of sight. “Hey! Wait!” he cried after the owl. “I need you to deliver a note to…” Harry stopped when the owl was long gone. “…Sirius.”

“Aw, rotten luck,” said Ron, slapping his palm on the ground. Harry was puzzled who could have sent him a note this time of the night. What he saw made him open his mouth because he had received this kind of a letter once before. He opened and read the message fully, knowing what it would be bringing him, but instead of crying, he snorted and shook his head.

“What’s the letter about, Harry, can I read it?” Ron just snatched the letter from Harry’s shaking hand. The note said:

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you used an Alohomora charm, and an Incendiary charm just twelve minutes past two in the morning and thirty-three minutes after three in the morning respectively.

As we have warned you once already that underage wizards are not allowed to do magic outside school (after you have performed a hover charm three years ago) and further spellwork will lead to your expulsion, you have not heeded such warning and performed at least two unauthorized spells in one day.

Therefore, with the powers vested in me by the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, I regret to inform you that you are now eligible for expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and any pleas for your reinstatement may be heard in a case-to-case basis.

You are instructed to surrender your wand for destruction, and further use of it is a criminal act and is punishable for a life term in Azkaban.

Beatrice Runeshark

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Cc: Office of the Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

“How worse can anything else get, huh?” said Harry, picking up the humor of their situation and laughing a little, though nervously. Like Hermione said it’s dungbombs hitting the fan. “I guess, we’re in the same boat now, Ron.”

Ron felt deeply guilty about all what was happening, and Harry saw it on his face.

“It’s all right, Ron,” said Harry, smiling and placing a hand on Ron’s shoulder. “I don’t care now if I got kicked out of Hogwarts by breaking a lot of serious rules just to get you out. At least I’m sure you’re alive…”

Ron shook his head gratefully at Harry. He couldn’t express enough his gratitude towards Harry who was sacrificing his future just for him. Ron held out his hand to shake Harry’s, and he took it. They both then hugged like good brothers and Ron could not hold back his tears while saying, “Thank you, Harry, I owe you my life.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry said while still hugging Ron, patting his back very firmly. “What are best friends for…I know all what’s happening isn’t your fault, and we’ll find a way to get you out of this mess.” Then they both broke apart slowly.

“Hermione…” said Ron quietly as they both sat down on the grass again, starting to shiver in the fog.

“I guess she’s our only hope now whether we like it or not. She even insisted on going with me to help you escape. But I know you wouldn’t want her to do that, too, right?”

“Yeah, you thought right. But d’you think she got insulted by saying no to her?” said Ron.

“I’m sure she didn’t,” said Harry as he walked around the bonfire. “Hermione knew why it was important that she didn’t have to go with me to come rescue you. I don’t know how many times I’ve already said this, but I do feel bad about leaving her all the burden of looking for a way to clear you, but she also knew why I had to leave her – because if I hadn’t, you’re dead meat. If she were with us now, then there’s no chance to ever finding the truth about the whole thing – at least we still have a shot for it with her back there. Still…if she couldn’t do anything I’ll understand – I’d be happy she won’t be in the same situation as us…

“I wish there was another way we could have done this, because we were hoping you could survive a few days in Azkaban while we worked on the case, but I think it was some sort of a blessing that I found that letter in Chadron’s room. If I hadn’t, well, I’ll say this again: you’re dead.” Harry breathed hard and stared at the patch of sky the forest allowed him to see, positively worrying about Hermione.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry,” said Ron as he looked at Harry who was visibly worried. “She’ll be okay; she’s strong and clever.”

Harry just nodded and threw a twig into the fire. “The grass’s too wet for us to lie down on,” he said as he felt his hands on the ground. “I’ll try to conjure us some mattresses.” Harry concentrated hard and waved his wand. Two fluffy sleeping bags popped out from the end of his wand, but they were a foot too short for both them.

“Better than nothing, Harry,” said Ron, grinning. They seized one for themselves, slid inside the bag and cuddled in.

“I reckon it’s near four in the morning, I guess it’s better if we move at night rather than daytime” said Harry wisely.

“Yeah, good thinking” said Ron, yawning. “As long as we won’t get caught, I can manage. I just hope we don’t find wild animals about…”

They both didn’t talk anymore, and fell off to sleep in an instant.

-o0o-

A few miles away, several wizards have gathered and were talking about the escape of the prisoner that morning. The Hogwarts Express was immobile and it had sat there on the rails since the driver felt one of its cars was missing.

Maximus was in a very bad mood. He was especially angry to Bruce who suggested they all sleep instead of watching over Ron, and because of this, they had to face the impending wrath of their superiors, who they are expecting to arrive at any moment. It was almost dawn but the sky was still dark. A small group of wizards (sent by the Minister of Magic to assess the situation) were on broomsticks and were descending towards the Hogwarts Express.

“They’re here, Maximus,” said one of his wizards. Maximus stood up and breathed deeply, preparing himself for some tongue-lashing. As the first wizard had landed and had gotten off the broomstick, Maximus approached him in a professional manner. “We hope you had a safe journey, Daedalus,” he said nervously.

Daedalus, his direct boss who was six inches taller than him, didn’t answer and just surveyed the train and its cars. He had about five other wizards with him, four of whom he knew, and one he didn’t recognize. Daedelus walked around with the four wizards behind him while Maximus and his group just followed. At last, Daedelus whipped around and looked at Maximus with cold eyes.

“Explain!” he barked. Maximus flinched, but still able to start and tell his story. He didn’t dare lie to Daedelus and told him exactly what happened. “And we couldn’t find them anymore as he could have escaped in any direction,” he timidly concluded.

“Minister Fudge is especially irate with your recent blunder, Maximus,” Daedelus said angrily. “The prime suspect of the attempted murder of the greatest wizard of modern times escaped under your nose – ten noses to be exact!” Maximus spat as he looked around Maximus’ and his group. “They were just kids! And you didn’t try to spread out and look for them? Fools!”

“They? T-them, sir?” said Maximus, confused.

“Didn’t you know, Maximus? Witnesses said they saw the Boy Who Lived in Hogsmeade who ran toward the train station last night. Your fellow ministry wizards were busy investigating since this morning. It’s assumed that he helped Ronald Weasley escape from your watch! How could he have snuck in and out of the train without your knowledge?”

“You mean Harry Potter, sir?” said a few wizards in unison.

“Yes!” Daedelus roared without taking his eyes off Maximus. “Beatrice Runeshark reported that she had sent an expulsion note for him because he used magic outside Hogwarts just this morning. In the first place, he isn’t allowed to leave Hogwarts in mid-term.”

“I-I don’t believe it, sir,” said a shocked Maximus. His other companions were murmuring behind him. “Potter?”

“Sir Daedelus,” interrupted a wizard. “I think you better see this.” The sky was already brightening, and they could now see the grounds around them. The lot followed the wizard as he pointed to the damp grass where they found two sets of footprints. “Looks like they were headed to the west.”

Daedelus nodded and called the wizard Maximus didn’t recognize. “Graham, I believe this is where your skills in the search for fugitives would be put into use. I suggest you start with this clue.” Graham, a middle aged, tall, and skinny white fellow with large eyes nodded slowly and didn’t say anything. “I, meanwhile, will return to London and report to Minister Fudge with these idiots,” Daedelus said as he jerked his head towards Maximus and his team, who mostly bowed their heads. “Report any developments that come in your way,” he added to Graham who picked two ministry wizards from the group he came with. Graham then took the lead in the search for Harry and Ron and started walking away.

“Why don’t you fools re-attach the last car to the Hogwarts Express so that we can be on our way?” Daedelus said to Maximus frowning. Maximus and his team were glad to be away from their boss’s breath and went to work. Bruce tapped him on the shoulder as they walked together.

“That Graham bloke looks dodgy to me, Maximus,” whispered Bruce as they walked towards the detached car. “Have you seen him from anywhere before?”

“No,” said an annoyed Maximus. He was still mad at Bruce for the whole thing. “This is out of our hands now,” he said flatly although he could not understand why he felt worried about Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley this time.

7. The Second Attempt

Chapter 6

The Second Attempt

Hermione woke with a start. The scarlet canopy of her four-poster was usually the first thing she saw each time she awoke, but it took longer than usual for her to recall what had happened before she had plopped on her bed the night before. Slowly the memory of Harry going down the witch’s hump replayed in her mind and walking down the corridor to the common room all by herself. She then remembered she kept herself awake with all the anxiety she experienced that night; but because of her exhaustion she hadn’t noticed she had fallen asleep. The sun was already up; Padma and Lavender were already out.

She closed and covered her eyes with both hands and began hoping it was all a dream. Fearing for the contrary, she slowly sat up and opened her eyes. What she saw made her heart sink – she saw that she hadn’t bothered to change at all since yesterday (her shoes were still on), and Harry’s invisibility cloak was splayed on the bed by her side. Everything happened were real.

“Hermione,” said Lavender Brown as she came in the room they shared since their first year. “You look horrible. Anything wrong?” She slowly went over to Hermione’s bed and sat on it.

Hermione looked at her. “N-nothing’s wrong, Lavender,” she managed to lie. “I just didn’t have a good night’s sleep that’s all.” She slowly slid Harry’s cloak behind her back away from Lavender’s sight. “What time is it? What day is it?”

“Eight thirty – Saturday,” Lavender replied. “Hermione, haven’t you heard?” she added slowly because she sincerely didn’t want to add something to Hermione’s troubles with what was going around the campus that morning.

“Heard what, Lavender?”

“Harry and Ron.”

Hermione’s eyes went round and her breathing began to get shallow. “What happened to them?” she said anxiously, fearing the worst.

“It’s all around the school. Harry – he’s been expelled, and Ron escaped as he was being brought to London and is on the run from the Ministry.”

“Who expelled Harry? Is Professor Dumbledore awake now?”

“Not yet; Dumbledore’s still the same since the other day – some witch from the Improper Use of Magic office said to have sent Harry an owl because he used magic outside Hogwarts twice – heard Professor Snape talking about it with some wizards.”

Hermione breathed, smiled slightly, and looked blankly ahead. So, Harry had managed to break Ron out after all, she believed. It was strange for her to feel some sort of relief now, but this meant Ron is out of mortal danger as of this time. All Harry and Ron could do now is to keep themselves from being captured while she’d look for a way to clear them up.

From Lavender’s point of view it was very odd to see Hermione smile like that after being told some bad news. “Hermione – are you all right?” She was beginning to worry about her sanity when Hermione’s smile flickered (she still had that dreamy look on her face).

“Oh,” said Hermione, coming back to her senses. “I’m all right, Lavender, don’t worry about me – I’m just still being sleepy…” She forced a smile.

“Okay,” said Lavender slowly, with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “If you need something I’ll be around…” She got something out of her trunk and walked out the room slowly, giving Hermione a last glance before disappearing toward the stairs to the common room.

Actually Hermione had realized how Herculean a task it would be looking for the truth about what happened in Dumbledore’s office, especially now that she was virtually all to herself. Would she ask for help from Lavender or Parvati? Dean or Neville? Maybe, but probably not now. She wouldn’t dare tell anyone what she and Harry were up to just yet, or else somebody might spill all the beans and things would get more difficult for her as it is.

Taking inspiration from Harry’s apparent success in rescuing Ron, Hermione felt it would rather be dangerous to be ruminative at this stage. She had to do have a grip on herself and do something in the soonest possible time – not only for her friendship with Harry and Ron, but for Hogwarts’ existence as well. Hogwarts was in danger of collapse if Dumbledore was lost because Death Eaters could descend immediately on the school once that happened. She needed to protect the Headmaster from further danger, delegating that task for herself even though no one had asked her to. She’d do this while looking for proof of Jack Chadron’s treachery, too.

She then remembered Jack Chadron. He was behind all this and he was still scot-free. Nobody knew the true colors of Jack in Hogwarts except Hermione. “But who had sent the letter in behalf of You-Know-Who?” she thought out aloud, pounding her fist softly on her thigh. Snape and McGonagall were still suspected as the middlemen, but deep in Hermione’s heart McGonagall couldn’t be a traitor, but Snape could still be.

Hermione’s mind buzzed. She couldn’t recall where she put Chadron’s letter and felt a sense of relief (or dread) when she felt it inside her robe pocket. To make sure that was it, she read it again after making sure she was alone in her dormitory. She felt her spine tingle again - the letter had the same dreadful effect of foreboding, the one she had hoped would never happen to Dumbledore and Hogwarts - and this was the only proof yet of Chadron’s treason, albeit pretty weak. This letter had to be kept away from the wrong hands, and whoever wanted it must take it off from her dead cold hands, she resolved, and placed it back inside a secret pocket of her robe.

After cleaning up herself and changing into some casual clothing, Hermione decided to pay Professor Dumbledore a visit in the hospital wing. She didn’t know if students were allowed to see Dumbledore, but she felt she had to perform some kind of charm to protect him from further attempts on his life. The problem is, she didn’t know anything effective, and she had to find something from the usual place – the library.

She passed by the big oak doors of the Great Hall; students were still eating their breakfast. She felt hungry, but she didn’t want to mingle in with the others as they were sure to talk about Harry with her and she certainly didn’t feel like it. She took out her wand and pointed at a piece of buttered toast at the end of the table and whispered “Accio”. The bread zoomed across Dean Thomas’s face; he took notice of it, and saw Hermione catch it outside the Great Hall. He tried to call her but Hermione just winked at him and walked off very quickly.

On the way to Library, she had bet anything that Dean only cared to talk about Harry’s expulsion. The thought infuriated her as this would prove that the students only wanted to get the inside scoop of what was probably the hottest topic in school. She munched her toast and walked the corridors, only looking at the floor to avoid other students’ stares and to guide herself towards the Library. If somebody called her then she had a valid reason that she hadn’t noticed him – and sure enough, she didn’t see who was standing along her path and she felt her face bump on to someone’s chest.

Hermione looked up, half of her toast thrusted inside her mouth now, and Snape was glaring at her. “Good morning, Miss Granger,” he said with a dry expression on his face. “We would like to have a word with you.” A couple of surly looking wizards she thought were from the Ministry of Magic flanked Snape, and they were looking at her, too.

Hermione glanced behind her, and at the end of the Hall, she saw Dean and Neville stop abruptly at the sight of Snape and doubled back. It looked like they were following her. She returned her gaze to Professor Snape.

“Pufffessr Shnape,” she said stuffily, forgetting the toast was still in her mouth. She chewed and swallowed it as quickly as she can. “Uh, okay, sir,” she said, her eyes darting to the other wizards and back at Snape again. “May I know what’s this about?” She knew what Snape wanted to talk about, but she had to act puzzled in front of him.

“Don’t play innocent, Miss Granger,” said Snape menacingly. “I don’t believe you’ve got nothing to do with Harry Potter’s recent adventures last night, I daresay. Tell us what you know, and I won’t accept anything other than the truth!”

Hermione tried hard to look bewildered in front of Snape. She wasn’t used to telling lies, and Snape’s dagger look at her made it even more difficult for her to think of a way out of this. She knew if she failed to convince Snape on the spot that she had nothing to do with it, he would have been more than glad to detain her or kick her out of school right there and then – that meant mission failed and goodbye to the wizard world as she knew it. That would be bad for Harry and Ron, too. Oh what the heck, she thought.

“Harry? Wha-what happened to him, Professor?” Hermione said in a fake but seemingly authentic panicky voice. “I-I’ve been looking for him everywhere, sir!”

“You know very well what happened to him, Miss –“ Snape tried to spit but he was caught off guard when Hermione grabbed the front of his robes and went into hysterics.

“I-I’ve been h-hearing horrible rumors around the school about Harry, sir!” she wailed, shaking Snape’s robes vigorously. The ministry wizards shifted nervously seeing a young lady acting like this. “P-please tell me, sir! Harry c-can’t be – be –DEAD?!?” Real tears poured out from her eyes as she pleaded.

“Miss Granger –“ started Snape, his eyes widening – not with anger but with unmistakable horror and concern.

“NOOOOOO! P-please! It c-can’t be!” she said, and screamed shrilly thereafter. Many students who were walking by were now staring at her. Snape and the wizards just nervously stood in front of her, frozen, looking around, and not knowing what to do. Hermione decided to faint in-between screams, and allowed herself to fall on to the floor.

“S-severus,” said one panic-stricken wizard. “We gotta bring her to the hospital –“

Professor Sprout showed up, looking scandalized. “Professor Snape! What do you think you’re doing to Miss Granger?” she said fiercely.

“We…only wanted to talk to her, but…” Snape tried to explain, but uncharacteristically didn’t know what to say to Professor Sprout as she stood in front him, hands on her hips.

Professor Sprout didn’t wait for any answer from Snape and carried Hermione off to the hospital wing. “Out of the way! Out of the way!” she shouted through the gathering crowd. Nobody ever noticed Hermione suppressing a laugh against Sprout’s work robes.

-o0o-

Word of Hermione’s screaming fit went around the school like wildfire. Except for the Slytherins, all other students took pity on her because they thought it was really awful to have lost a couple of best friends overnight (after being close companions for nearly five years). So the students had plucked up some courage to look at Snape suspiciously (who was now in bad mood) each time he got past them. Some Gryffindors were conjuring up some flowers to give her in the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey strictly kept visitors out and received the rush of bouquets for Hermione.

Hermione began to feel slightly worried that her little play made her look like she had lost her marbles, and she thought the whole thing would become pretty embarrassing once she got out. She hoped this little incident wouldn’t be talked about in the next 50 years. She could see it now: her granddaughter, approaching her on her rockers wanting to talk about Hermione Granger losing it in the halls of Hogwarts, possibly after being told about the story by her classmates. She realized this thought was getting too far fetched so she shook it off.

But the thought of Harry and Ron was the most pressing concern and it was surely worth the trouble. She was glad she got away from Snape that time, but what if he’d meet her again after getting out of the infirmary? The same alibi won’t be too convincing anymore.

“Another big one from your friends, Miss Granger,” grumbled Madam Pomfrey as she created a twentieth vase out of her wand and placing it at her side table. She, however, stood back and admired the cheerful sight of fresh flowers adorning Hermione’s bed. “So how are you feeling now?” she said, sitting on Hermione’s bed and feeling her pulse.

“I think I’m okay now, thank you,” said Hermione, smiling slightly. “I think I lost it there for a while…”

“Well, I don’t find anything wrong with your mind at all, dear,” assured the nurse, mixing up some potion to make Hermione relax. “I remember having exactly the same fit when I lost a – uh – boyfriend when I was your age,” Madam Pomfrey said, blushing profusely. “That Matilda…well that was a very long time ago…”

Hermione snorted as she drank her potion. “Harry’s not my boyfriend, you know, Madam Pomfrey. He’s just my best friend…” She paused to herself and thought silently, “I guess…”

“Of course he isn’t, dear,” said Madam Pomfrey, smiling. Hermione could tell she didn’t believe it, but it was just fine for her. “Don’t worry, by all indications Mr. Potter’s still alive. But unfortunately he was too foolish to go on his own and break Mr. Weasley from the custody of Ministry Wizards.”

“Do you have any news about them?” said Hermione anxiously even though she had already drank the tranquilizing potion.

“Very sketchy, I’m afraid,” said Madam Pomfrey seriously. “The Ministry of Magic is busy looking for them as we speak. They’ll be caught soon, I expect. It would be better that way, as they might encounter hags or werewolves along the way.”

Hermione just nodded. She wasn’t sure what she’d feel if Harry and Ron were caught soon. “H-how’s Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall?”

“Still both out, I’m afraid,” replied Pomfrey, shaking her head and glancing over to a bed with the curtain covers. Hermione thought that was where Dumbledore was lying down on. “I couldn’t find any remedy to revive them – I’m not miracle worker like most of you think, Hermione. I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for the time they’ll wake up on their own – if it ever comes…” Madam Pomfrey let out a stifled sob.

Hermione sat up and hugged Madam Pomfrey, who embraced her, too. “We both feel the same way, Madam Pomfrey,” she said quietly. “What do you think is going to happen to Hogwarts now?”

“If they don’t wake up at all, I’m sure You-Know-Who won’t wait another minute and take over the school, I reckon,” Madam Pomfrey said, deeply worried. “I’m quite puzzled he hadn’t stepped in already – Professor Dumbledore had been out of action for more than two days.”

Just then, Professor Flitwick entered the hospital wing. There were some students peeking through the double doors from outside and he closed them quickly. “Poppy, how’s my favorite model student going?” he squeaked.

“She hadn’t gone over to the deep end, Professor,” replied Madam Pomfrey and turned to Hermione. “However you still need to rest until later this afternoon then you can go off.” Hermione nodded.

“Splendid,” said Flitwick, glowing.

Hermione remembered that she had earlier set off towards the Library to research some charms before landing unexpectedly in the hospital wing, and having the charms expert himself around seemed to be heaven-sent. She didn’t waste any time deciding to take the opportunity of asking Professor Flitwick for some tips.

“Uh, Professor Flitwick,” said Hermione timidly. “If you’re not so busy at all, I’d like to ask you something – if it’s okay.”

“Why, of course, Miss Granger,” said Flitwick smiling, and walking over eagerly to her bedside.

“I’ll be in my office if you need me, Hermione,” said Madam Pomfrey, standing up and walking away.

As soon as Madam Pomfrey walked away from sight, Hermione said, “Uh, I’ve been wanting to learn some, you know, protection charms because, you see, I’ve been very worried about Headmaster Dumbledore…”

Flitwick nodded slowly. “Yes, go on. Speak your mind, Miss Granger, don’t be afraid…”

“Thank you, Professor. You see I have the most horrid feeling that someone still wants Professor Dumbledore dead and may try a second time to finish him off. So I thought of performing some sort of a charm to give him the best form of protection while he’s sleeping – but I don’t know any good ones yet…”

“Ah, I don’t find it surprising that you’ve thought of that, too, Miss Granger,” said Flitwick, his eyes twinkling. “After all, you are to me most brilliant student in your year – if not the whole school.” Hermione beamed.

“Thank you for your concern, Miss Granger. We teachers have already made sure Professor Dumbledore is well protected from what you’ve thought about. I’ve been asked to perform a, uh… I’m not supposed to say which charm I gave Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall for obvious reasons.”

“So you believe the murderer is still around the school, Professor,” Hermione eagerly said, hoping that Flitwick would say he didn’t believe Ron could be it.

“As the alleged perpetrator is out of the school, Professor Dumbledore is apparently out of danger, but Professor Snape and I still think there still might be an accomplice around – and Professor Trelawny keeps on annoying me with predictions of someone long bearded dying…” Flitwick puffed. “So it’s still necessary to perform some protection charms on him and Professor McGonagall until they come to. That’ll frustrate them. If you’ll excuse me, Miss Granger, I have to check on the Headmaster and see if my charm hadn’t been disturbed.” Flitwick smiled and walked towards Dumbledore, a few beds away from Hermione.

Even though it wasn’t good that many people still thought Ron was the one who tried to kill Dumbledore, it was comforting to know for Hermione that Professor Flitwick had already subjected Dumbledore to a few protection charms – it meant that once she had gone out of the hospital wing she could concentrate on looking for more clues, and being a prefect will get very useful. But from what Flitwick said, the teachers still didn’t seem to rule out Ron for the attempted murder.

“Madam Pomfrey! Come here, very quickly,” called Flitwick, with an urgent but calm voice. Even if his voice was generally squeaky, Hermione could tell if something was wrong and snapped her head towards the direction where Dumbledore’s bed was; the bed curtains were still blocking her view and couldn’t see him. Madam Pomfrey ran to Dumbledore’s bedside and disappeared behind the curtains. Hermione dreaded the worst – was the Headmaster now dead? She fought the urge to run over and see for herself, and wait for Flitwick to say anything. However, she heard Madam Pomfrey gasp and she couldn’t take it anymore. She jumped off her bed, ran barefoot across a few beds, and screeched to a halt behind Professor Flitwick.

Someone tried to stab Professor Dumbledore while he was asleep. Several faint glowing lights were spread across his torso (on top of his purple robes) shaped like what appeared like a cross-section of a knife. Hermione clamped a hand in her mouth in shock.

“Looks like your charm worked, Professor,” said Madam Pomfrey, feeling Dumbledore’s pulse. “He’s still alive, and unharmed. This could have happened when I rushed to get Hermione in the halls – he was spotless when I checked on him earlier.”

Flitwick nodded grimly. Hermione breathed. She wanted to tell the Professor that she suspected Jack Chadron all along, and but she stopped herself when she heard someone talk behind her.

“Who could do such a horrible thing?” said a voice much like the Head Boy’s. Hermione whipped around and saw Jack Chadron’s face, and she looked away very quickly to avoid his gaze. She slowly walked back to her bed. Madam Pomfrey looked at Jack Chadron as if he were a trespasser.

“Have you been inside the hospital wing since last night, Miss Granger?” said Jack Chadron quickly at Hermione’s back.

“No,” she replied, placing a hand over her chest and kept on walking. Hermione’s heart was painfully pounding, and she could feel Jack Chadron’s stare behind her. “No, I didn’t,” she added.

“I sense there’s something wrong with you, Miss Granger,” Jack Chadron pressed. “Or is there something else you know that we don’t?”

Hermione didn’t answer. She hadn’t prepared herself to face the real traitor this soon, and at the same time she was bursting to point her finger at Jack Chadron – only that it was still too immature to do so. It sounded as if the Head Boy was changing tack and the sound of his voice suggested that he’s starting to cast new doubts on her “involvement”. She didn’t quite understand why this time she didn’t have the courage of facing up to him, and she knew this wasn’t doing any good.

Madam Pomfrey spoke up. “Head Boy, I don’t believe one bit that Hermione did this as you are insinuating,” she said, aghast, waving a finger at Jack Chadron. Professor Flitwick looked up at him, with a surprised look on his face.

“No, not at all, Madam Pomfrey,” Jack said pompously. “It’s just that what’s happening lately had been so – stressful. Professor Snape seems to be keen on investigating Miss Granger and had asked me to see how she is doing and…”

“I don’t care what he thinks and you have no business being here in my hospital wing – you tell that to the Professor Snape. You know very well that until further notice, strictly no students are allowed to get inside the infirmary except to be treated for injuries, and that includes you?”

Hermione at last found the courage to stare insolently at Chadron, who looked back at her. She didn’t dare blink, as rage built up inside her – she was certain it was he who tried to finish Dumbledore off quickly and the easy way, probably in the dead of the night like he said, and he had come to see if he was truly dead. The letter proved it. Fortunately Flitwick’s charm frustrated his attempt, and Hermione hoped Chadron had made a mistake by acting innocent as to pay the Headmaster a visit, and that Madam Pomfrey or Professor Flitwick would begin to doubt him. Whether it was true that he was sent in by Snape to see her or not, Hermione made it a point to avoid both of them as much as possible.

“OUT!” said Madam Pomfrey loudly, and Jack Chadron strode out of the hospital wing without taking his eyes off Hermione (who kept on staring at him). Madam Pomfrey waited for Chadron to get out of the infirmary and angrily said, “How dare he say a thing like that – as if Hermione was the culprit…” She calmed down a bit and told Hermione gently “Please get back on your bed, while I tend to Headmaster Dumbledore. Please, if you both have grudges against each other whatever it is, please settle it somewhere else, okay?”

Hermione nodded and did what Madam Pomfrey had told her, tucking herself in her bed. She noticed she was drenching in cold sweat – Chadron’s stare meant something, and she was sure he’d be watching her from now on. She had the perfect chance to tell Professor Flitwick about Jack Chadron, but she had lost it because of her indecisiveness – she wanted to kick herself for it. Pointing the finger at Chadron this time would make it look like she had some kind personal vendetta against him, now that Madam Pomfrey thought that she and Chadron had a grudge. She wished she hadn’t stared back at Jack like that in front on her.

“I’ve redone the Aegis Charm on Professor Dumbledore,” said Professor Flitwick to Madam Pomfrey, and intently made it loud enough for Hermione to hear though he sounded pensive. “I’m afraid this won’t be enough on the Death Curse; luckily the one who attempted this used mundane means to try and kill Professor Dumbledore. This means somebody else in Hogwarts also wants to kill him, and I’ll make sure this has to be stopped. Probably some copy cat - I’m going to call for a meeting today with all the teachers and discuss this problem; I’ll suggest placing Hogwarts under a state of emergency.” He walked briskly out.

Madam Pomfrey walked over to Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hermione, could you please watch over Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall while you’re here? I’ll be in the back room mixing up some potions – just holler when there’s something wrong. I’ll tell you when it’s okay for you to leave the hospital wing.”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” said Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey smiled nervously, and walked off to her office. Everything seemed to move along very fast during the last couple days, Hermione thought as she allowed herself to relax, at least a little bit. First, the incident in the Headmaster’s office, then Ron’s detention, McGonagall’s alleged suicide attempt, and the events that led to Harry’s hasty decision to rescue Ron. And now this.

Everything was Chadron’s handiwork, Hermione knew, and now he’s even trying to involve her to stave off suspicion on his part. Looking for incriminating evidence to unmask Chadron seems to get trickier by each passing moment. Harry and Ron were still out there – and they were absolutely counting on her. The thought of her best friends made her teary eyed again. The anguish she felt – it was just too overwhelming. She didn’t want to hold it back and cried as much as she wanted to.

-o0o-

“What is it, Ron?” said Harry as he finished his half of the last sandwich he and Ron only had. They had stayed in their present spot for half a day without encountering anyone. Ron was sitting in front of the smoking pile of ash of what used to be their campfire and he had an odd look on face.

“I don’t know – just a funny sad feeling,”

“Funny sad?” Harry laughed.

Ron gave him a sarcastic grin. “It’s just like, I could feel somebody’s in grief,” Ron continued. “Far away. Strange.”

Harry could not get what Ron’s trying to tell him. He checked his watch; it was almost three o’clock in the afternoon, and they were running out of food. “We have to get something to eat before sundown,” Harry told Ron.

“Sorry, Harry, but I’ve never been outdoors all my life,” said Ron apologetically.

“Me neither, so that’s why we got to find a place that accepts these,” Harry said, holding some of his gold galleons. “I doubt there is this far from Hogwarts.”

“We’ll find one, I’m sure of it,” said Ron. “I bet every city or village in Britain have wizard shops – we’ll be able to tell at once because the shop signs stand out. Muggles can’t see it, of course.”

“Yeah, like the Leaky Cauldron in London, right? D’you reckon we’ll find a village before dusk?”

“We could start moving now if you’d like,” suggested Ron.

“Yeah, gladly. This place is beginning to get real boring. Let’s go. ”

Harry and Ron stood up and spread dirt over the ashes. Their sleeping bags disappeared into thin air as they started to move out of the woods. There was a steep incline ahead of them, and Harry hoped they could get a good view of the surroundings when they would reach the top. Ron was slightly ahead of Harry, and when he reached the top, he stepped back quickly and grabbed the front of Harry’s robes, pulling him down to the ground with him.

“What’s wrong?” Harry said. Ron pressed a finger to his lips and pointed over to the other side of the incline. On their bellies, they crawled slowly forward and Harry knew what got Ron’s attention.

It’s a good thing that the sun was at their backs, because they saw four people just a few yards down the slope who seemed to be scouring the grounds for clues, looking for something – or maybe someone. Harry could tell they were wizards by the look of their clothes. The sound of their voices were faint, but he and Ron could make out what they were talking about.

“They’ve been through this way,” said a thin, middle-aged wizard who was crouching down and examining something on the ground.

“How can you tell, Graham?” said one impatiently.

“Because I can, you fool!” snapped Graham, standing up. “I’ve been in this business all my life, Damon.”

“We’ve been looking for them since this morning,” Damon persisted. “They could be a hundred of miles away by now, and I don’t see any clues around.”

“Incredible, you are,” said another to Graham. “I say we call it off and report to him we couldn’t find the kid anymore.”

“He won’t be too pleased,” growled Graham. “You know he doesn’t accept failure, and you know what he does when you face him empty handed!”

“So that’s why you’re leading us in a wild goose chase – to save your own lovely skin, is that it?” said Damon.

“Suit yourself then!” spat Graham. “I’ll keep looking for Harry Potter with or without your help. If you don’t want to save your own skin, then you’re free to go. Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

“C’mon, I’m out of here,” Damon said, looking around at his other companions. “Come with me. The Dark Lord will find other ways to get Harry Potter, and I’ll tell him Graham had lost his touch and bungled the best opportunity since that tournament in Hogwarts before last summer. Right, he won’t be pleased at all…with you, Graham. Andre, Horace, let’s go.” But the two other wizards didn’t move an inch.

“I think I’ll stay with Graham, Damon,” said Horace nervously, obviously preferring to keep on looking rather than facing their master empty handed.

“Yeah, I think so, too,” Andre decided. Damon looked at the three other wizards with an open mouth.

“Well, Damon, I believe you said you were leaving?” said Graham triumphantly. Damon didn’t say another word and disapparated with a pop. “Wise thinking, you two, but you’re always free to go when you want…foolish of him to assume what the Dark Lord wouldn’t do…”

Ron slid back down and pulled Harry with him. He jerked a thumb at a direction away from the wizards and Harry nodded. As silently as they could, they ran away deeper into the woods, hoping they won’t be spotted by them, and stopped only when they were certain they had gone far enough.

“Harry, did you hear what they were saying down there?” panted Ron.

“Yeah, they weren’t looking for you – they were after me,” said Harry. “Voldemort wants me again.” Ron flinched.

“That means – this is bad,” said Ron. “We’re not only dodging the Ministry of Magic, but Death Eaters, too. It’s as if they knew all along you’d come and break me out…”

“I bet Chadron tipped them off last night,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Does this look like part of the plot to kill Dumbledore to you?”

“Uh-huh, now that you said it, it makes some sense. Two birds with one stone, like. With Dumbledore dead, and you in the hands of You-Know-Who – it would have tremendous shock effect on the wizard world. Remember that many still think you’re legendary. Everyone will think they have no hope anymore and surrender is the only option left.”

“What’ll we do?” asked Harry.

“Well, obviously we have to keep ourselves some being caught. Unless we could return to Hogwarts you’re not safe from You-Know-Who. If you’ll get arrested by the Ministry they’ll lock you up in Azkaban for sure. You said once the dementors are in You-Know-Who’s league and they’ll just give you to him, right? So our only hope is to return to Hogwarts, but under the present circumstances that’s out of the question – they’ll still put you in Azkaban. The only time we could get back there for good is when I get cleared because you’ll get cleared, too.”

“Hermione,” said Harry.

“Yes, Harry, she’s our last hope,” Ron said hopefully. “And while we’re still on the run, I’ll guard you with my life.”

Harry smiled widely at Ron and said, “Thanks, Ron.” They both shook hands firmly and patted each other’s back.

“C’mon. Let’s move,” said Harry, and they both walked further away from the Death Eaters, not really sure how long they would keep on doing this.

8. The Hidden Object

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 7

“The Hidden Object”

Harry and Ron hiked for several hours. They didn’t care which direction, as long as they got further away from the Death Eaters. Ron had been worrying loudly that no matter how far he and Harry would go the man named Graham might still find them sooner or later.

“He reminds me a bit of Lockhart,” Harry tried to calm Ron down. “For all we know, he might have just been exaggerating about his skills in front of the other wizards to shut them up.”

“Probably,” said Ron, still not convinced. “But they’re Death Eaters, mind. Lockhart was a certified nitwit.”

After a few more minutes of walking, they saw a small village up ahead. Hiding from behind a tree, and their stomach rumbling, they observed the people who were going about their business and for any sign of Ministry Wizards or Death Eaters. The village had only one cobbled road that went from east to west, with lots of shops and houses on both sides.

“Dufftown,” said Harry.

“Sorry?”

“Dufftown’s the name of the village,” Harry told Ron, pointing at the small sign. “Never heard of the place – I bet it’s not even on the map.”

They both looked at each other, hoping that one of them would try to decide what to do. “Let’s go,” Ron said at last. “Just act innocent.”

“Don’t forget we are,” said Harry, smiling.

They both slowly walked along the main road. The people were very polite and greeted both of them as they passed them by. “Looks like a muggle village, this is,” said Ron. Harry spotted a three-storey building with a grocery store on the ground floor and suggested to Ron that they go in. He couldn’t think of any reason why he had picked that particular building among the others, but only that it looked it so inviting.

Harry opened the door and the tinkling of the chimes announced their arrival to the lone attendant, who was cleaning his counter top with a sloppy rag. The signs stuck around the shop confirmed this was a muggle establishment, as all prices were in British pounds. There were tables and chairs around what looked like a small restaurant. The attendant was about forty-something, and was wearing muggle clothes.

“Hello, how do you do, mate?” said the attendant. “Why, can’t remember seeing you around here me whole life. Passing by, I presume.”

Ron nodded. “We’re from, uh…Lottery St. Paul”

“Lottery St. Paul, huh,” said the attendant, searching for the name in his head. “Never heard of the place…is it near here?”

“Y-yeah…” said Harry, playing along Ron’s game, too. “Uh, we want to buy some food here but uh…”

“Yes?” said the attendant eagerly.

“But, uh, we only have this for money…” Harry took out eight galleons and 15 sickles. He was sure the attendant would think they’re playing a practical joke and kick them out instantly. Harry knew he was breaking wizard law on exposure to Muggles, but this was worth a try. He and Ron were both too hungry to care.

The look on the attendant’s face as he examined one of the galleons was one of pure amazement and excitement, and to Harry and Ron’s surprise, he had swept across them, locked the door of his shop, and hung a “closed” sign. This made them very nervous.

“The name’s Willard,” said the attendant, extending his hand. “And you’re wizards, aren’t ya? I can tell from your robes – you come from Hogwarts.”

Harry and Ron didn’t answer him.

Willard let out a throaty laugh and said “Don’t worry about me, I’ve almost been a wizard meself – but me parents couldn’t afford to put me in Hogwarts. I dropped out in me third year.” He shrugged. “It’s kind of rare to have wizards drop by in me place, but I do accept Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts anytime!”

“Glad to know that,” said Ron, smiling with Harry. “We don’t mean to be rude but we’re hungry and we’d like now then we’ll be on our way?”

“Sure thing,” Willard said, with a broad smile on his face. “Just take a seat around one of those tables back there and I’ll be with you.”

“Lottery St. Paul?” teased Harry as they picked a table and sat down, fighting the urge to laugh. Ron looked visibly embarrassed.

“Sorry, that’s was all I could think of,” he said, shrugging. “But look, it’s not on any map and they could look it up,” he added quickly. Willard came over to their table carrying a couple of menus.

“Looks like you’ve strayed too far from Hogwarts, I reckon it’s about a hundred miles from this place,” Willard said as he pulled out a scribble pad and a pen.

“Uh – we’re not students,” Harry lied. “We only got these robes from charity.”

“Uh-hum, but you look kind of young to be full fledged wizard, eh?” Willard said, winking an eye. “What’ll it be, mates? Special rates on this joint’s anniversary which happens to be today.”

“Fried chicken, bread, and soup,” said Ron almost at once.

“The same for me,” followed Harry.

“Hmmm, how frugal,” Willard said. “The combination goes with a free slice of chocolate cake.”

“Oh, wow, thanks,” Ron replied, positively feeling hungry now.

“Oh, by the way,” added Willard. “I think this is your lucky day. I remember I’ve got a spare room upstairs in me inn, some wizard paid me two nights full yesterday and checked out quickly this afternoon, not minding to refund. You can use the room for free if you don’t have any other place in mind to spend the night.”

“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” said Harry. “That would be too much…” Harry felt Ron’s foot kicking his shin under the table, making him glare at Ron.

“No, don’t worry about it,” said Willard cheerfully. “I can’t live taking the poor old bloke’s money for services not rendered. Besides, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk freely about the wizard world. I kinda have missed what’s news and what’s hot in there…”

“We’ll take it, thank you,” said Ron for Harry. Willard smiled broadly and said, “Excellent! I’ll be back with your orders – won’t be long.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

“Ron, we shouldn’t…it’s too good to be true having a free room…” said Harry.

“Rubbish,” laughed Ron. “Let’s be glad we’re this lucky – what’s wrong with that?”

“I…just have a funny feeling about this,” said Harry, looking worried. “That Willard guy may have something in mind for us. What if…”

“You mean turn us in? I’m not really sure of that, but I can tell he was really sincere with his offer,” said Ron seriously. “Look, Harry, I know we don’t have to trust anybody anymore, especially strangers, but sometimes we have to count the blessings that come our way. It’s bad to get paranoid too much. It’s still too early for everyone to know about us, and besides, I’m itching for a good bath.”

Harry thought of that, too, and he personally couldn’t wait for a nice hot bath himself. “Well, okay Ron, but we must remember we must be on the alert always. We can’t afford to be taken off-guard.”

“I understand, Harry,” replied Ron. “Tell you what, if the room windows have iron grilles, we’re out of here.”

Willard returned with their orders after a few minutes. Harry and Ron never thought fried chicken would be this delicious – probably because they didn’t know if they’ll ever eat this good being on the run indefinitely. Willard didn’t have any other customers tonight (thanks to the “closed” sign) and sat at the table with them, telling a lot of stories – which the duo enjoyed listening to. This Willard ain’t bad after all, Harry thought.

-o0o-

“You can leave now, Hermione,” said Madam Pomfrey as she opened the doors of the hospital wing to admit two stinking security trolls. Hermione saw these were the same trolls that guarded Ron down in the dungeons. “Thanks for looking after Professor Dumbledore for me this afternoon. These trolls will do the guarding from now on.”

“You’re welcome, Madam Pomfrey,” said Hermione, pinching her nose.

“Oh, and Hermione, could you please do one more favor and tell somebody at the laundries to bring up some spare robes for Professor Dumbledore? Purple ones, as usual.”

“Okay.”

As she walked towards the laundries, Hermione wasn’t sure if she was glad to be out of the relative peace of the hospital wing under the watch of Madam Pomfrey already. She now had the chance to do something – anything for Harry and Ron now that she’s free, but at the same time she had a bit dread of being stopped by Snape or Chadron while doing so. Deep in thought of her next move, she didn’t notice the many students who greeted her as she walked the corridors.

She got down a few floors from the ground and walked a long hallway with the portraits of food and fruit, and she remembered this was where the kitchens were located. She stopped. She had a strange and strong urge to get inside the kitchen, like she’s being drawn towards it. She couldn’t understand why; she had avoided getting in there since she unintentionally insulted a few house elves there last year when she tried in vain to convince them to demand wages for their services. Still, the urge was too powerful to ignore and she stood alone in the corridor fighting it. If Harry or Ron were with her now, she’d look silly in front of them and would bet on the spot as if she was fighting to revive her former obsession.

Or it might have been just her empty stomach.

Now that she thought of it she felt positively hungry, and not wanting to eat with the rest of the school at the Great Hall, she decided to get inside the large kitchen that was full of the probably-still-mad house-elves. Finding the portrait of a bowl of fruit that was actually the entrance to the kitchen, she tickled the green pear.

The elves in the kitchen were especially busy as she entered. There was a heightened flurry of activity around her, and the elves hadn’t noticed her entering. They were expertly doing their craft, chopping up ingredients and frying food, clearly rushing for some sort of deadline, which was supper in a matter of minutes in the Great Hall up above.

“Why, it is miss!” squeaked one of the house-elves Hermione recognized as Dobby. “Dobby is pleased to find Miss in the kitchen after a long time,” he continued hopping over to her and bowed courteously at her. “Come, Miss. Miss must not worry of the other elves. They is also glad Miss come here tonight.” The rest of the elves waved and smiled at her without taking their hands of their work.

“Nice to see you again, Dobby, how are you?” Hermione said happily, glad that she hadn’t been thrown out as she expected.

“Dobby is now a supervisor, Miss. Professor Dumbledore has given Dobby a new job last week. Dobby is liking his new job. Dobby is paid more than last year.” Dobby was visibly proud.

“Good for you Dobby,” said Hermione, smiling. “But have you heard about what happened to Professor Dumbledore?”

Suddenly, after she had said that, the kitchen fell silent, all except for the hissing sound of food being cooked. Hermione felt all of the elves were looking at her, and she stood there nervously in the kitchen, her eyes looking around, and certain she made another boo-boo. However, they just sadly closed their eyes, and bowed their heads in unison, clearly in respect for Dumbledore. Then the usual sound of activity returned as the elves went back to work. Soon, four courteous elves carried a tray full of bread, mashed potatoes, pastries, meat loaves, and pumpkin juice for Hermione, who thanked them and gratefully took the food. They all bowed at her and scurried off.

“Yes, miss,” said Dobby, after Hermione wiped off some sweat off her forehead. “Dobby is especially sad to what happened to Professor Dumbledore. Dobby does not know who is doing such a terrible thing to him. Dobby only got in to clean Professor Dumbledore’s office before it happens, miss. If Dobby had stayed on for Professor Dumbledore, he would have prevented such horrible thing to happen. Dobby is too mad at himself…”

“Really,” said Hermione, biting off a big piece of bread, getting gradually excited. She thought that Dobby could give her some insight on what happened in Dumbledore’s office before that incident. She felt her heart beat faster. How lucky could she get by deciding to get in the kitchens when she knew the elves were mad at her, and end up getting some valuable information from Dobby, of all people? “So you mean to say you were with Dumbledore before someone tried to kill him?” she asked eagerly.

“Yes, Dobby was in office of Professor Dumbledore, miss. Dobby is willing to tell Miss all she is wanting to ask.”

“Can you tell me what saw in there, Dobby?”

“Firstly, Dobby is not telling what he is wants to tell miss to anyone else. Dobby is not trusting to anyone knowing what he sees, except Professor Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Wheezy, and miss.” He pulled two stools and offered one to Hermione. They both sat down and talked as quietly as they could amid the noise of the kitchen. Hermione was now keen on hearing on what Dobby had to say and she hoped when she got out of the kitchen she’d at least have a lead.

“Secondly, Dobby is not trusting the Head Boy since the start of the year. Dobby thinks he is evil,” he carried on. “Dobby was cleaning books when Professor Dumbledore was writing to Hagrid…”

“To Hagrid! Did he say to you what it was about, Dobby?” asked Hermione eagerly, now forgetting about the food.

“Yes, miss, Professor Dumbledore did. He did! He says it was for Hagrid, and if anything happened to poor Professor Dumbledore, Dobby will tell Harry Potter to talk to Hagrid, and look for a key to unlock his table.”

“Key? So there’s a key. What kind of key? Did he tell what to look for inside his table? Did he say where to find the key?” Hermione didn’t know what to ask about first and wanted to know everything at once.

“Alas, Dobby is not knowing, miss,” said Dobby, which made Hermione drop her shoulders in disappointment. “But Dobby knows Professor Dumbledore felt the evil Head Boy was planning something that night, and made sure whatever happened, Harry Potter can know.”

“Dobby, why didn’t you talk to us sooner? We were around Hogwarts all the time!” she said incredulously.

“Dobby is very sorry, miss,” he sobbed, wiping tears on his scarf. “The house elves did not know about poor Professor Dumbledore until the next morning. Dobby could not find the gallant Harry Potter and missed him the whole day. Then Dobby was too busy with his new job that he is forgetting to tell miss today!” Dobby looked for something on one of the tables and found a roller, and banged it on his head painfully several times. “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”

Hermione took hold of the roller very quickly and placed it far away from Dobby to save him from further hurting himself. “Oh, I don’t blame you one bit Dobby, please stop doing that to yourself! I didn’t mean to hurt you with what I said…”

“Thank you, miss. Dobby is very, very sorry miss,” he said, massaging his forehead. “But Dobby thinks the key poor Professor Dumbledore is talking about is in the letter he sent to Hagrid. Dobby had seen him put something small in an envelope. When the evil Head Boy entered poor Professor Dumbledore’s office with Wheezy, he was finishing some letter and closing the very same envelope, and an owl took off with it. Then poor Professor Dumbledore asked Dobby to leave the office, and Dobby, as obedient as he is to him, returned to the kitchen.”

Hermione sat straight on her stool, trying to recall something she didn’t know what. “It’s been days since the incident in Dumbledore’s office, and if the letter was for Hagrid, why hadn’t he told us anything yet…” Hermione asked herself aloud. “He could have known already about the key you told me about, Dobby, unless…”

Dobby was staring at Hermione with deep interest.

“Unless Hagrid hadn’t opened it!” she exclaimed excitedly, her face brightening. She inhaled deeply. “…Until now! Oh, Dobby, thank you! Thank you! You’ve been a good help!” She got off her stool and hugged Dobby, kissing his cheek and he smiled widely, feeling proud that he had contributed something for Hermione. “I’m going to Hagrid – don’t tell anyone! I’ll be back soon and tell you what I found out!” She waved goodbye to the other house elves who all cheerily acknowledged her.

She got out of the kitchen and walked through the corridors as fast as she can towards Hagrid’s hut. She didn’t know what was the significance of the key that Dobby told her about, but she strongly felt she had a lead for the first time since Harry had gone away. She was glad she had thought of entering the kitchen tonight, and that was probably why she had felt the strong urge to. Like she thought some kind of force that was drawing her towards…what? Destiny? Probably it was magic at its most mysterious; add the fact that Dumbledore was a wise man (is a wise man, she corrected herself) and did seem to have incredibly keen senses to everything around Hogwarts, even about the future all the time. Nobody was around the halls tonight, as they were all in the Great Hall for supper.

The walk to Hagrid’s took several minutes. The sun was setting now, and Hermione saw the gentle giant take out a large pail and filled it with water from a barrel. Some beautiful unicorns were galloping freely at the paddock. The sight of unicorns was breathtaking every time, and she slowed a bit to marvel their beauty from afar. Hermione didn’t know why there were unicorns near Hagrid, and she surmised it was in preparation for another Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

“Hagrid!” Hermione called as she neared the hut, now running again. “Hagrid!”

“Hermione!” Hagrid cried. “Hermione it’s so good to see yer! I’ve heard about Harry and Ron and…” he seemed to have been lost for words and he dropped the pail on the ground, splashing water in a wide area. Hermione screeched to a halt when she saw Hagrid stride towards her, arms open. She knew what would happen next and tried to turn back and run away – but it was too late. Hagrid had caught her and pinned her against his moleskin coat with both of his trash can lid-sized hands.

“H-Hagrid – I k-know!” she said, gasping for breath. “Y-you gotta l-listen to m-me.” Hagrid had done this to Harry once, but he was lucky she and Ron were around to pry him loose. It took a few seconds too long before Hagrid thought of letting Hermione go. She was afraid for a moment he had broken her back, but was relieved to know she could still move her neck.

”What’re we gowern te do now?” he wailed. “I’ve been so worried!”

“H-Hagrid, hang on for a moment and listen to me,” said Hermione breathlessly. “Did you have any messages from Dumbledore the night someone tried to kill him?”

“I dunno,” Hagrid replied, not knowing what Hermione was on to. “I reckon I was in the dark forest when it all happened, and when I came back I heard of the news and was too distraught about it I din’ care fer anythin’ no more.”

“Then, do you still have those unopened letters in your house?” asked Hermione hopefully.

“Unopened letters…oh, yeah, they’re still in there,” Hagrid said, puzzled. “What do you need them for?”

“C’mon, Hagrid! Let’s start opening envelopes, quick!” she said excitedly. She grabbed Hagrid’s sleeve and pulled him inside his hut.

Hermione sat eagerly beside the dining table as Hagrid retrieved the unopened letters from his shelf. The stack he was carrying was about five inches thick, and plopped them all on the table. “This is all of ‘em.”

Hermione rummaged through the pile, checking each envelope for Dumbledore’s recognizable handwriting.

“Dobby said he saw Dumbledore send an owl for you moments before someone tried to kill him,” said Hermione, taking one envelope at a time and examining them.

“Oh dear, how could I’ve been so stupid…” Hagrid whispered and shook his head. “Then Dumbledore could have had an important instruction fer me…”

“Here it is!” Hermione squealed. Hands shaking, she ripped off the wax seal and looked inside the open envelope to see what was inside. Her eyes widened; Dobby was right. She turned the envelope upside down; a small silver key and a small piece of parchment fell on to the table.

“What does the letter say?” asked Hagrid, now intrigued.

Hermione read it aloud for Hagrid and it said:

-----------

“Dear Rubeus,

I am sure you well remember about what I told you about our present Head Boy. Until now, I can’t fully give him my trust, and I can sense more that Dark Forces are strong in him.

Professor Snape in recent days have warned me of a plot he uncovered from Lord Voldemort’s inner circle to take my life in the hands of a traitor in Hogwarts. Though he could not be certain if this plot is of high priority, my suspicions towards Jack Chadron supports this warning. However, as you know no one is aware about my impression of Jack Chadron except you and me until such time I have reason to divulge such information to the other teachers. I could not accuse Jack Chadron of anything as such a thing may be later be proven unfounded.

Also, Professor Trelawney (bless her) had been warning me for days about the possibility of death. Though I do not believe her one bit, I myself have been feeling something will be done against me in the coming days, so I have given serious consideration for her warnings.

Tonight, I will be giving extended detention to Ronald Weasley and the Head Boy is obliged to witness the meeting. I can sense that if there is really a plot to kill me, this will be a perfect opportunity to execute. This is why I have taken extra precautions and asked Professor McGonagall to be present as well.

As an added precaution, I will be keeping something I have “borrowed” from Mr. Weasley, a gadget called the Advanced Sneakoscope. It’s so fortunate that I have gotten hold of it. If anything bad happens to me any day from now in my office that I would not be able to recover from, take the enclosed key and call the attention of Harry Potter and his best friends. Please show them this letter and ask them to unlock the drawer of my desk and retrieve the Sneakoscope. If it works as it is supposed to, it shall hold the answers to what may transpire after this. Assuming such a thing might happen, I am very sure it will save someone innocent from injustice. I take precedence to that concern above my own life as I believe it would also help me in the end. They should hand the Sneakoscope over to Cornelius Fudge at once. If it could not work as expected, I have to ask you to look after the welfare of Harry Potter as I am certain Hogwarts will crumble in the weight of Lord Voldermort’s plot.

I shall tell you to disregard these instructions if nothing untoward will happen at all. I am not being paranoid, but it won’t hurt by being prepared. For the moment, please be vigilant as the Dark Forces are now at work to weaken us all.

Your Headmaster,

Albus Dumbledore”

--------

Hermione and Hagrid fell silent for a moment as they looked at each other after reading the letter. (“How could I have been so stupid,” Hagrid kept on repeating.)

Hermione could not stop marveling at Dumbledore’s excellent foresight and wondered how on earth he can do that. She was about to ask Hagrid to come with her to Dumbledore’s office when they heard a loud thud outside the hut.

“Who’s there?” growled Hagrid. Hermione felt alarmed, and hugged Hagrid’s arm.

“Oh, no!” said Hagrid as he peered out his window. “The unicorns have opened the paddock and they’re runnin’ loose!” Without waiting for Hermione to talk back, he ran out and chased one of the four unicorns who were running around the grounds near the hut, trying very hard to put round them up and put them back in the paddock. Hermione dropped the key and the letter in her robe and then ran outside to help Hagrid.

“Hagrid! What should I do?” she asked, panting, as she tried to get in the path of a galloping unicorn and get hold of it; it just shifted direction away from her. The unicorns were too nimble and quick; Hermione had the impression they were just happily playing around her and Hagrid. Hagrid, however, kept on chasing after one unicorn over the other, even if he obviously knew they were too fast for him.

“H-Hagrid,” called Hermione after spending too much time and giving up catching at least one unicorn (they didn’t seem to want to get far from the fences, and were taunting her and Hagrid by often stopping together as a group and scuttling when one of them got too near). Hagrid was desperately determined to take them all back inside the paddock.

“Hagrid!” Hermione called. “HAGRID!” she called again when he didn’t seem to notice her.

“Oh, sorry, you go on, Hermione!” said Hagrid, now chasing a different unicorn he chose around the grounds and waving her hand at her. The others were just standing in the middle of the field, watching him. “I can take care of this on me own…”

“No, I mean, the Sneakoscope!” Hermione said, bouncing up and down on her toes. “Dumbledore’s office! Remember?”

“Oh…right! Yeh go first to his office - I think it won’t be that hard te find! I’ll follow you very shortly! Promise!”

“Okay, I’ll be expecting you in the office then?”

Hagrid just nodded impatiently and kept chasing the unicorns.

Exasperated, Hermione tore down alone towards the castle. Her heart was pounding; she was absolutely certain this was the thing she needed to finally clear Ron and unmask Jack Chadron. There were a few students who were strolling this late at night, but all of them were gloomy-faced, she observed. Everything that was happening lately took a heavy toll on the morale of the students and staff, and Hermione hoped that she could put a stop to this and help Hogwarts return to normal.

She looked around as she approached the entrance to Dumbledore’s office making sure she was not being followed. She then acted as if she was just deep in thought about something, strolling slowly, doubling back and just hovering near the entrance. In truth she was glancing around, trying to spot anything that moved in any of the corridors.

Nothing moved in the corridors; not even a shadow. Feeling it was now okay to enter, she muttered the password for Dumbledore’s office, hoping it wasn’t changed. “Cherry Lollipops,” she said, and the entrance opened. She got in and closed the door.

The office was dark because not a single light was on; only moonlight from the tall windows was illuminating the room. Fawkes the Phoenix was perched on his usual place and bowed his head curtly at the sight of Hermione.

“Hullo, Fawkes,” called Hermione. “How come I haven’t seen you when I last came here?” she asked. Only that Fawkes didn’t know how to talk and just looked at her. “I’m here to do something for Professor Dumbledore, Fawkes,” said Hermione as she got to Dumbledore’s large desk in the middle of the room, fearing that the Pheonix might attack her for trespassing. “I hope it has answers to who tried to kill him…I hope it wasn’t really Ron…” The Pheonix bowed its head at her again.

She crouched and took out the silver key from her robe and tried all the keyholes of Dumbledore’s desk, and at last she found the one that it would unlock. Hands trembling, heart pounding loudly, she turned the key and the drawer opened. It only had one item inside it: Ron’s Advanced Sneakoscope. She took and examined it, not immediately recalling how it worked. She had read about this in a book once before, and her mind was frantically trying to recall how to turn it on. “Show me?” she guessed audibly.

The Sneakoscope whirred into life. It was lightening up, spinning increasingly faster. The action produced some amount of friction that Hermione had to let it roll down on to the desk to keep it from burning her palm. It kept on spinning on the same spot, faster this time, and then beamed some light out of it. Next, to her surprise, she saw the ghostly representation of Professor Dumbledore projected on his seat scribbling a quill on a parchment and closing an envelope. A short time later, the Sneakoscope projected the forms of Jack Chadron and Ron at the entrance as they entered the office.

“We’re here, Professor Dumbledore,” said ‘Jack Chadron’.

-----

A/N Triggy’s recommendations: You gotta read Zimmeron’s “Hermione Granger and the Boy Who Lived” also found in Fanfiction.net! I’ve seen other fics about Hermione’s POV of Sorcerer’s Stone but this is by far the best. Well researched, well written, and full of surprises. Highly recommended.

9. Death Eaters at Hogwarts

Chapter 8

“Death Eaters at Hogwarts”

It was like seeing a stage play up close, only that the actors were misty-white, ghostly embodiments of the people they represented. The Sneakoscope projected Dumbledore’s, Ron’s, and Jack Chadron’s figures right at the exact spot where they were during that night. Hermione backed off a little to see the whole thing in a wider view, hoping that she won’t miss anything important, and pressed her back on one of the tall bookshelves as she watched.

“Ah, Mr. Chadron and Mr. Weasley. One moment, please, while I finish up this letter and send it to a – good friend,” Dumbledore said in his characteristic dignified voice.” He placed a piece of parchment and something metallic inside the envelope, dropped some hot wax to seal it, and gave it to a waiting owl that promptly flew out to deliver it to an unknown recipient (which Hermione now knew was Hagrid). Dumbledore then turned his attention to Dobby, who was covered by the Headmaster’s large desk from Hermione’s view. The elf was dusting off some old books.

“Dobby, perhaps it would be better if you would leave us for a while, while we discuss some matters with Mr. Weasley, thank you,” Dumbledore told him gently. Dobby didn’t say anything. He bowed with a smile and disappeared with a pop.

“I see you’re already here for our meeting, Mr. Weasley,” he continued, now looking at Ron. Ron nodded grimly at Dumbledore, visibly fearful of what’s coming. Hermione could feel how he had felt, and she had to get hold of her emotions to be able to stay attentive.

“However, I believe I told you, Mr. Chadron, that we’ll be meeting by forty-five minutes past the end of supper, not thirty minutes? I gave those instructions for a reason,” Dumbledore said pointedly, now looking at Jack Chadron, who had his hands behind his back and looked fidgety. Ron hung his head and stared constantly to the floor.

“Yes, sir, I’m aware of that, sir,” he replied, managing to control his increasingly shaky voice. “But you told me once before that it’s always better to wait than be late, sir, and I’m just following your advice.”

Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds as he still looked at the Head Boy very intently. This made him very nervous, and he tried hard not to tremble too much in front of the Headmaster.

“Ha! Dumbledore saw right through you for ages!” Hermione told Jack Chadron’s figure.

“Ah, yes, I believe I did,” Dumbledore said to Jack Chadron. “You’ve got a good attitude, Mr. Chadron. Keep it up.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Professor McGonagall will arrive at the arranged schedule, which is a little more than ten minutes from now. However, as you are already here, I don’t want to add to Mr. Weasley’s anxieties as I find it very cruel if I want him to wait for her, so I’ll just fill her in with the details when she comes. Right, then. Let’s get to the subject of this meeting. Mr. Weasley…”

Ron, as if his head weighed a ton, slowly looked up at Dumbledore. “Yes, sir,” he said quietly.

“I have been giving your case a lot of thought. While your practical jokes are admittedly funny – and ingenius - I have to make it known to everyone that I don’t tolerate lies around this school, especially to the staff.”

Ron nodded and hung his head again as Dumbledore let what he said sink in.

“So it is only fitting,” Dumbledore continued - Ron snapped his head up to look at him bracing for the worst - “that you’ll be subjected to three weeks detention with Mr. Filch, including a whole day during weekends starting tomorrow. I have no reason to even suspend you as Professor Snape had wanted. Your brothers had made much more serious practical jokes than yours and they just always serve detention. I believe they hold the record for mischief in Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said and just shook his head about the Weasley twins. “But this does not mean I’m encouraging you to do more jokes on your classmates…”

“T-Thank you, sir!” said Ron happily, very glad that he wasn’t going to be expelled or suspended like Snape had suggested, but he realized he seemed mental to thank someone who had just given him three weeks detention. “Uh, I mean, I understand, sir, I deserve it,” he rephrased, with a fake look of disappointment on his face. For Ron, detention was a heaven sent rather than not being in Hogwarts anymore.

However, Jack Chadron scowled, and without any warning while Dumbledore had his attention at Ron, he pointed Ron’s wand at the Headmaster (Hermione had both hands on her mouth) and shouted “Avada Kedavra!!!” Yellow green light swooshed from the tip of the wand and hit Dumbledore, whose head landed on the top of the large desk with a loud thud. His eyelids were half open and his eyes stared listlessly on an open space ahead.

Ron took a few seconds to catch on what had just happened in front of him. In great shock of the speed of events, he gaped open mouthed at the seemingly dead Dumbledore and then slowly towards Jack Chadron. The Head Boy was still looking at Dumbledore, making sure he was taken care of.

Ron had made the decision to lunge at Jack Chadron, but he stopped short when the wand was now pointed at him, sparks emanating from its tips. “Don’t even think about it, Weasley,” warned Chadron. His face was twisted with evil and he was now looking at Ron. Hermione felt a new surge of hatred towards Jack Chadron, the person she used to admire.

“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?” yelled Ron bravely, who was red all over, both his hands balled into fists.

“With the orders of The Dark Lord himself, and you’ll be thrown to Azkaban for this crime,” said Chadron knowingly.

“What?”

“I was hoping Dumbledore had written the expulsion note for you, a perfect motive on your part to murder the Headmaster, Weasley. But it doesn’t matter. I still have a plan B laid out. Sadly, It could have been more convenient, and I wanted to have a little chat with you about your best friends before I do the next spell against you. But it seems I’m out of time –“

“M-my friends? Harry and Hermione – why?” Ron said, bewildered. Hermione stared at Chadron the same.

“Say hello to the Dementors for me,” Chadron said as he switched wands. “Stupefy!”

Ron was instantly stunned, and he fell on the floor very hard. Chadron moved over quickly to him, and arranged his body to look like he was stunned when he was attacking Dumbledore. He put Ron’s wand on the floor.

“Keep your filthy hands off him!” said Hermione in anger.

Next, Chadron closed his eyes and concentrated hard, put the tip of his wand on Ron’s head, and muttered “Obliviate!” Without wasting any time, he walked over to Dumbledore, took a page of blank parchment from a desk drawer, placed it at the side of the Headmaster’s head, and muttered with a wave of his wand “Inscribulus”. Hermione quickly got behind the desk just on top of Dumbledore to take a better look.

Dumbledore’s right hand grabbed a quill and began writing Ron’s expulsion note. Jack Chadron bobbed his head up and down along with the scribbling of the quill, as if he was teaching a little child what to write. It was very bizarre even for Hermione seeing Dumbledore’s right hand writing on parchment while the rest of his body looked dead. Halfway through Dumbledore’s final signature, the office door opened and McGonagall came in; Jack Chadron was startled and his spell had broken. Dumbledore’s hand had now let go of the quill with a soft clatter.

McGonagall saw Ron first, and she placed a hand over her chest. She ran to him and saw Jack Chadron standing just behind Dumbledore next. “Mr. Chadron, what on earth happened here?” she said, increasingly alarmed as she walked to the middle of the room.

Jack Chadron didn’t care to explain. He pointed his wand at McGonagall without hesitation and exclaimed “Imperio!” McGonagall instantly snapped to attention and she stared blankly ahead, succumbing to the power of Chadron’s Imperius Curse, which was very effective.

“You’ll soon prove to be a valuable asset in the service of the Dark Lord, Professor McGonagall, albeit very indirectly,” said Chadron, laughing diabolically. He had felt a great high when everybody in the room was under this power and it took him quite a while to get over his enjoyment. “You’ll be making your own victory potion as soon as I will have no use for you, but first I’ll have a little chore for you in a little while.” Hermione then realized it was also Jack Chadron who was behind McGonagall’s suicide attempt.

Chadron walked back slowly towards Dumbledore’s desk. He laughed again as he looked at the two helpless Professors. “Everybody thought you were untouchable, you two. Even the Dark Lord seems to fear you, you frail and senile fool!” he said at Dumbledor. “But it takes only Jack Chadron, the present Head Boy of Hogwarts to prove you are as powerless as muggles!”

He took the unfinished note and examined it, looking disappointed. “Now I couldn’t make Dumbledore finish this because of YOU!” he snarled at McGonagall.

Hermione could see Chadron’s frighteningly contorted face and he looked very insane, unlike the pompous and gentle Head Boy he had always shown in front of the whole school and prefect meetings. She could not fathom the treachery of the real Jack Chadron. He was very dangerous, and he needed to be stopped. The only way was to unmask him as the culprit of the crimes committed on Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall – the most crucial evidence of it lay on a simple object such as the Sneakoscope.

There were still Ministry Wizards around the school. All she had to do was find one of them and give him the object; Jack Chadron will be arrested, and he will probably “sing” to unmask the other conspirators as well (if there are). Ron will be cleared and, with Harry, they be pardoned and reinstated at Hogwarts. Hermione was confident of this because Harry had only broken the rules because of the circumstances that led to it. Hopefully, Dumbledore will recover soon after that.

Jack Chadron pinned the parchment between Dumbledore’s head and the tabletop and placed the quill loosely, resting it on the Headmaster’s hand. He made it look like his last act was writing the unfinished letter. Hermione thought Jack Chadron was beginning to get stupid. He would have just made a new note and rip the old one apart, but it was a good thing that he didn’t remember that.

“You go announce this little incident to the whole school now, Minerva,” said Chadron. “You’ll be backing my testimony up. Ha, I’m beginning to love ordering you around and calling you in a first name basis…” McGonagall moved towards the office door against her will.

Hermione thought she had already witnessed enough because this was when McGonagall went out of the office to make the emergency announcement. It was time to leave and share this to the Ministry Wizards at the soonest possible time. She ordered the Sneakoscope to “Stop” and it ceased spinning. “Now, how do I make this thing stop recording things before it erases everything?” she asked herself. Luckily, like many objects in the magical world, the Sneakoscope seemed to have a brain of it’s own and covered itself up with a smooth metal-like shell. Smiling, Hermione scooped it up from the tabletop and slid it inside her robe pocket. She heard the soft snap of the office door closing behind her.

Hermione whipped around. “Hagrid…about time…”

“Caught on at last, have you, Hermione?” said Jack Chadron in the flesh, shaking his head slowly, and his wand pointed at her. Hermione froze and gasped, and remained silent. She had her wand with her, too, but it was deep inside her pocket – too late to reach and Chadron would have had lots of time to jinx her if she made a sudden move. He was in the middle of the room, while she was deep inside it. She had to run the whole length of the office towards the door to be able to escape. With Chadron in the way, it wasn’t wise to make a break for it.

Chadron breathed deeply. “I followed you from Hagrid’s hut after I set those unicorns loose. I was hoping that would make Hagrid, shall we say, abandon you for the unicorns while you’d find for me alone the very thing that might give my true self away. I even surprise myself sometimes for making plans that seem to work my way.”

“So it was you out there - outside the hut. You’ve been following me, and you were listening to me and Hagrid while we talked about Dumbledore…” Hermione said indignantly.

“Right you are, and I’m so lucky that I did,” Chadron replied, smirking. “I’m usually not being the nosy type, but I knew you were up to something to save your own pathetic best friends and I wanted to know what I’ve probably missed from all the excitement. You see, I won’t forgive myself if I knew a simple toy like the one you have there in your pocket would ruin everything for me.”

“I won’t let you have it!” yelled Hermione bravely.

“Don’t give me a reason to kill you, Hermione,” said Jack Chadron quietly. “Because I will if I have to…but please don’t let me do it.”

“Your death curse was a dud, didn’t you know that?” Hermione retorted, accenting the word “dud” very clearly. However she realized Jack Chadron used Ron’s wand back then, and that was probably the reason why Dumbledore didn’t die. Now, Chadron was pointing his own wand at her…

“Yes, but it’s enough to put you to sleep indefinitely, as good as dead, as you’ve seen what harm it did to Dumbledore. It’s unfortunate that it wasn’t properly done, but someone told me that Dumbledore won’t awaken until the spell is broken – which for me is dangerous to divulge how it can be done, of course. So I have no worries about him waking up and remembering me as the culprit, which leaves only you.”

“Why, Jack?!? Why are you doing this? Think of what Dumbledore had done for you all these years…” she said, changing tack. Like she had hoped, it bought her more time to think of a way out.

Jack Chadron went silent for a moment and spoke again, heavily, this time. “My benefactor promised me power I have only dreamed of. And the only way to achieve that is to serve the Dark Lord. He rewards those who are faithful to him. This is my test – he will notice me, he will glorify me above all the other Death Eaters in his inner circle – it will be my proudest moment! Dumbledore can’t give me that!”

“Jack, everything Voldemort tells you is a lie!” said Hermione sharply. Jack Chadron almost dropped his wand hearing his master’s name. “He only wants to get something out of you - he doesn’t care about you! He doesn’t want to share his power to anyone! He wants it all for himself!”

“Y-you said the Dark Lord’s name!” Chadron said, shaking.

“So I did. I surprise myself sometimes, too,” said Hermione firmly. They both looked at each other, falling silent for a few seconds.

Chadron spoke again. “Let’s make a deal, Hermione. The Dark Lord will come to Hogwarts when Dumbledore is truly dead, and he will establish his New Order from here. The fall of Hogwarts to the Dark Lord will be a symbolic defeat for those who are opposed to him. Give me that object, and I will make sure your very life will be spared amidst the imminent extinction of your kind.”

“Just say it. Say I’m a Mudblood, Jack,” challenged Hermione.

Jack Chadron opened and closed his mouth.

“Your master won’t spare a Muggle-born like me just because you asked him to. I’m not that stupid to even hope for that,” she said, and there was fire in Hermione’s eyes now.

The office door opened and a Ministry wizard entered, the same one Hermione saw with Snape just before she was carried off to the hospital wing. She didn’t know if she’d be happy to see him, and sure enough, Jack Chadron told him, “She has an advanced Sneakoscope in her pocket, Cassius. It recorded everything I did to Dumbledore nights ago. If it reaches the Ministry, I’m in troub…I mean, the whole plan will be bungled.” Cassius nodded; he apparently was a Death Eater, too.

“You see, Hermione,” Jack said as he returned his gaze at her. “Hogwarts isn’t a safe place for you and the rest of your friends anymore. It’s now been taken over by the Dark Lord’s servants. Soon we will round up the students and the rest of the staff, and we’ll prepare for the Dark Lord’s triumphant return,” Jack Chadron said, smirking again.

“The students and staff?” she thought. Then she remembered that when she came to Dumbledore’s office from Hagrid’s hut, it didn’t strike her as odd that she hadn’t encountered anyone walking around the corridors this early in the evening. She was only too happy she hadn’t bumped in on anyone while she was en-route to the office.

“Didn’t you know?” he pressed on. “Death Eaters have already caught Harry Potter and he is now being brought in front of the Dark Lord as we speak. You friend Ron has disappeared forever – and my colleagues made sure of that,” Hermione’s heart stopped when she heard this news about Harry and Ron. She instantly felt alone in the whole world. She felt like panicking about it, but she knew better than look being weakened in front on Jack Chadron.

“Dumbledore is as good as dead, too,” Chadron continued, seeing Hermione’s face. “So what does this all mean? It means it is only a matter of time and the defeat of your side will be realized. You’re now fighting a losing battle, Hermione. It won’t matter anymore if your friend Ron is acquitted posthumously and if I’ll be branded for everything that had happened. Give me that thing in your pocket, and I will let you live.”

Hermione didn’t want to buy anything Jack Chadron had said. She hoped he was psyching her just to get the Sneakoscope. Still, there was a horrible thought hanging behind her head: what if they were all true? She thought about Harry and what Voldemort may be doing to him now. (“Oh, Harry…”) And about Ron’s death as Jack had said to her…

But for now, she had to think first about how to get past these two menacing men in front of her, and then worry about where to go next after this. She refused to give up just yet. The opportunity came when the open office door was snapped shut by a strong breeze.

Looking just above James’ head, Hermione said, “Hagrid!”

Jack and Cassius looked behind them, expecting the large gamekeeper to grasp their necks at any moment, only to see that there was no one behind them. Seizing the opportunity, Hermione drew her wand from her robe and pointed at the books above Jack and Cassius and exclaimed “Flipendo Voluminus!” The bookshelves shook violently and heavy books came cascading down, painfully burying the two men in a heap. Hermione made a break for the door and ran on top of them. “Ha! You fell for an old muggle trick, you idiots!” she said, not bothering to stop for a second.

When she got out of the office, she saw two other wizards just standing next to the door who were startled at the sight of her. “Stop her, but don’t hurt her!” yelled Jack Chadron from inside the office.

Hermione sprinted through the length of the corridor with two grown-up wizards hot on her tail. She didn’t have time to pause to jinx them, and she was surprised that they didn’t even try to perform any curses to slow her down.

Before she rounded the next corner, she took a quick glance behind her. The pursuing wizards seemed not to get tired running after her and were closing the gap between them very quickly. On the other hand, Hermione was starting to lose breath, and halfway through the next corridor, two more wizards stood at the end hall, waiting for her. She tried to double back, but the other wizards chasing her blocked the other end of the corridor she where came from.

Hermione was now trapped in the middle of the hall with nowhere to go. There were no rooms to get in to, and no windows that led outdoors. Only a large gold statue stood near her. This was it, she thought, and she bravely pointed her wand at each of the four men (who Hermione supposed were Death Eaters, too). They didn’t seem threatened, however, and began closing in on her very slowly.

Hermione heard a loud scrape that seemed to come from gold statue. She stood back a pace watched the statue slide horizontally and reveal a passage she had never seen before. The Death Eaters took a moment to realize that Hermione might be able to escape and all of them started running towards her. She didn’t have to decide whether to take the opportunity for escape or not as a dark hand reached out from the dark hole, grabbed her sweater, and pulled her in to the passage rather forcibly. The statue quickly closed and Hermione could hear the Death Eaters cursing from the other side. It was pitch dark inside. She didn’t know what pulled out her out of there so she quickly held out her wand to find out and muttered “Lumos!” She was instantly relieved to see two very familiar faces in front of her: Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom.

“Dean! Neville!” she said, feeling relieved. She whipped around when she heard some banging sounds from outside. “Thank heavens it’s you!”

“Lucky you took this route or we’d never been able to pull you in!” said Dean. “Don’t worry, they can’t get in unless they’d kick the statue’s shin.”

“Come, Hermione,” Neville said in his usual squeaky voice. “Let’s put some distance away from this spot before they do kick ‘em accidentally.” He pulled Hermione’s arm and they all walked deeper in the secret passageways; it was easy to get confused with all the twists and turns.

Nevilled glanced around. “I-I think we’re lost again, Dean…” he said nervously.

“Aw, give me a break! You’ve been saying that all night, Neville!” complained Dean, obviously annoyed by Neville’s whining all evening. Hermione, however, stopped walking, leaned her back on the wall, sank down to the floor, and started to cry.

“H-Hermione – what’s wrong?” said Dean, concerned. He and Neville crouched down beside her.

Between sobs, she told them about her encounter with Jack Chadron in Dumbledore’s office, and what he had said about Harry and Ron. “I c-can’t believe they’re gone!” she concluded.

Both boys gave Hermione commiserating looks.

Dean patted Hermione’s shoulder gently. “I can’t either,” he said seriously after thinking very hard. “We don’t know for sure how or where they are. But the way I look at it, I think he was lying to you, Hermione – like, he was trying to weaken you back there into giving him what he wanted. I’m not telling you this just to make you feel better. Good thing you didn’t break. That was really brave of you.

“They’re still out there, I reckon, Harry and Ron. Knowing them, I think the Death Eaters are having a bad time catching them…” He looked down at Hermione again who was still sobbing, but lesser than what she did earlier. “They’re okay, Hermione. Jack Chadron was probably lying. Don’t let what he said get into you. Eh?”

“Y-yeah, I think you’re right,” she said, wiping tears from her face. “They still both need my help.” She allowed herself to calm down a bit and began to be proactive again.

“Let me get this straight, Hermione,” said Dean again. “Are you sure that was Jack Chadron you talked to in Dumbledore’s office? The Head Boy?”

Hermione nodded, wiping her tears.

“Then that means he’s a traitor,” Dean said, frowning.

“It can’t be,” said Neville.

“What’s been happening at Hogwarts?” Hermione asked.

“Looks bad,” replied Dean grimly. “I haven’t seen any teachers since this afternoon. The students are all getting scared, rumors are getting around that we have been taken over by You-Know-Who. You know them, students. They’re afraid to speak up. When Ministry Wizards began to round up some of us, Neville, Seamus, and I thought there was something really wrong and decided to hide – but Seamus was caught in a brief chase and we couldn’t help him without being caught ourselves.”

Neville breathed deeply.

“And how’s Dumbledore and McGonagall, Dean?” asked Hermione next.

“They’re still out, but no one can get in the Hospital wing. Flitwick, Vector, and Madam Pomfrey is said to have locked themselves in there to protect Dumbledore. Seen some Ministry Wizards pounding on the door. I find that weird, actually. I don’t know about Snape – I hope he’s dead.”

“They’re not from the Ministry of Magic. They’re Death Eaters,” said Hermione earnestly, and Neville went pale in the dark.

There was a slight pause as Dean tried to absorb that reality. “Then it figures. So, we then tried to send an owl to ask for help from outside, but the Owlery was being heavily guarded, too. What do we do now?”

“Let’s just keep ourselves from being caught, Dean,” replied Hermione. “Hiding in these passages while we think of a plan seems to be a good move. No, wait, I have to do something very important. I gotta find a way to get out of Hogwarts and go to the Ministry of Magic and tell them what’s really going on here. I bet they’re still oblivious about this. I have some stuff with me that’ll convince them I’m telling the truth, and that this is all Chadron’s handiwork.”

“H-Hermione, please don’t leave us,” whimpered Neville.

Dean looked at Neville with mounting impatience. “I don’t know how you’re going to do that,” he said, looking back at Hermione. “We thought of the same thing, too, going to the Ministry of Magic. The gates are all closed, we don’t know how to apparate yet, we can’t use floo powder in the fireplaces – and, and all broomsticks have been confiscated. Blimey, I think the Death Eaters have covered everything…”

“We’re doomed!” Neville cried.

“Not if I can help it,” said Hermione a matter-of-factly. “I have a way…”

“Good. We’re coming with you!” Neville said, getting instantly excited. “I want to get out of here, too!”

Hermione thought for a moment and said, “Yeah, it would be great if we all go together. This is an emergency, so Harry probably won’t mind if I’d show you one of our deepest secrets, but you’ll just find out when we get there.”

“Okay,” Neville and Dean both said.

“Where’s the next exit?” asked Hermione.

“Just follow that path over there,” said Dean, pointing. “We’ll get out of the east wing. And, Hermione, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Luckily for them the east wing was the closest to the statue of the one-eyed witch – Hermione’s idea of escape. Then she remembered something that disappointed her a great deal. Slithering through the hump of with statue was hard enough for her, and Neville was a little too chubby for a boy his height. He would never fit in the hole. She told Dean and Neville about this (she did not mention about the statue) and got the same reaction from both boys. They fell silent for a few moments thinking of other ways to escape.

Dean sighed, disappointment drawn on his face. “Bloody tough luck. Then I guess I can’t leave Neville all alone here, right?” He looked at Neville edgily and shook his head slightly.

“No, don’t worry about me…” Dean said quickly when Hermione opened her mouth to say something. “I’ve been in these passages longer than you think.” He grinned. “I’ve even stashed some food and water around here to last us a few days until it’s safe to get out.”

“I guess I’ll have to live with that…” said Neville gloomily. “I think I’ll go nuts after spending a few hours too long here…”

“Oh, I’m really, really, sorry. Both of you,” said Hermione, feeling much sadder this time.

“Can’t do anything about it, though,” Neville added to Dean’s surprise. “Dean’s right, and I’d kill him if he left me all here all by myself. Y-you go on without us, Hermione,” he groaned. “I can’t believe I just said that - ”

“I think you have to go,” Dean told Hermione. “You’re in more danger than you think staying here at Hogwarts when you’ve got Jack Chadron really wants. Yeah, I’m sure they won’t bother smoking me and Neville out of this hole – we’re not worth it. We’ll be okay. We’ll tell one of the teachers the thing you told us about Jack Chadron – well, if we do see some teachers…”

“Okay, and I’ll be back with help soon,” said Hermione, still feeling very bad for Dean and Neville.

Dean smiled, gave her a thumbs-up sign and said, “Just prod the statue and it’ll open! If you need to get back in, just remember to kick the shin. Go, take care, and good luck.”

Then Hermione heard Neville say, “You’ll be back soon, won’t you?” when she started walking away.

She looked back at the two boys and said, “I will. I promise.” She gave them a reassuring smile. “And, thanks for helping me out there, guys.”

“You’re welcome,” the boys said in unison, smiling back at her.

Moments later, she found the end of the passage and prodded the back of the statue as Dean instructed. Light poured in from the corridor; she peered out of the hole and after making sure there was no one in sight, she got out. The statue of an old wizard that doubled as the cover slid back by itself, leaving no hint of a secret passage. Hermione took her bearings and remembered the statue of the one-eyed witch was close by around the next bend. She started walking towards it as quietly as she could.

Reaching it, she tapped the hump and muttered “Dissendium”. It slid open and she climbed up to get inside the statue. She was right; Neville wouldn’t have fit in and Harry’s secret of slipping out of Hogwarts undetected would have been discovered if they were caught forcing Neville through the witch’s hump. She heard some voices of grown men approaching as her body cleared the hole, and she quickly closed the hump before anyone would have noticed it was open. Hermione allowed herself to sit down for a moment on the tunnel’s dry floor to breathe in and out. All the tension of evading the Death Eaters was eating her alive, she thought.

“Okay, just follow the tunnel, Hermione,” she told herself. It was eight o’clock in the evening and she reckoned she would reach Hogsmeade in less than an hour. “After this, what?”

She now felt a new emotion: panic. She realized she was all to herself now and that she had never run away from anything before in her life, and she didn’t know who to turn to. Would she tell the first person she sees? That was probably the most obvious thing to do at the moment, and so she started to walk along the tunnel leading to Honeydukes. Perhaps the witch that owned the place would be very helpful to her.

Harry would have never thought she would be running away from Hogwarts now, too, like he did yesterday. Funny how fast things change and seem to happen the least you expect them to.

10. Multiple Choices

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 09

“Multiple Choices”

“Hogwarts is almost under our complete control, sir,” said Jack Chadron excitedly as he faced Lucius Malfoy’s floating head again atop the flames in his fireplace. “The Death Eaters you sent in were very effective – they had secured everything in a blink of an eye.”

“Splendid, but unfortunately the plan to prepare Hogwarts for the return of the Dark Lord has been called off, Chadron,” said Lucius.

Jack Chadron hung his mouth open with the sudden change of plans. “But, sir, why?”

“The Dark Lord said that the resistance of Dumbledore from dying has taken so long,” said Lucius lazily. “He told me he could not step foot on Hogwarts unless Dumbledore is truly dead.”

“Sir, Death Eaters are trying to break through the hospital wing door where Professor Dumbledore is making a last stand as we speak,” said Jack Chadron quickly, starting to feel some panic. “Professor Flitwick is using his mastery of charms to hold them out, but I’m sure he’ll give in very soon, and our people will be able to kill Dumbledore.”

“That is now totally unnecessary, Chadron, as the Dark Lord has already given his explicit instructions,” said Lucius flatly. “He has expressed better ways to establish his New Order and the method we used seemed to be flawed from the start if our end was to take over Hogwarts for him.

“However, he is said to be pleased with the fruit of your efforts as I am certain it is absolutely Harry Potter he wants now. We are expecting to catch him very soon enough, in addition to discovering how vulnerable Dumbledore is after all. Our little plan isn’t worthless at all, too, as we’ve successfully wrecked Arthur Weasley’s reputation. Personally, that’s what I wanted all along. All in all, you have done well, my faithful beneficiary, and I am sure the Dark Lord will reward you, too.”

Jack Chadron smiled weakly. “Thank you, sir.”

“The Death Eaters have received their orders to pull out of Hogwarts, and you will return as being the Head Boy as if you have nothing to do with this,” Lucius said. “I have someone in the Daily Prophet who’ll write a news story about some ‘straggling’ Death Eaters attempting to take over Hogwarts – that will rattle the wizard world for sure. I’d even ask him to whip up a story how you were able to ‘thwart’ them to make you the hero. The Daily Prophet will carry that story tomorrow. I trust that no one has discovered that this was all your handiwork all along?”

Jack Chadron hesitated for a moment to tell him what exactly happened. Lucius saw the peculiar look on his face and said, “Is there something you wish to tell me, Chadron?”

“Yes, sir,” said Jack with difficulty. “Harry Potter’s friend – Hermione Granger – has something incriminating against me…”

“What?!?” growled Lucius. Jack Chadron told him about the Sneakoscope and how he thought Hermione had slipped out from Hogwarts with it.

“Those morons!” said Lucius, referring to the Death Eaters who pursued Hermione. “Are you sure the girl isn’t in Hogwarts anymore?”

“I’m not really sure, sir,” replied Chadron. “But if I were her, I’d get out of here before I get caught by Death Eaters with that thing.”

“Yes, yes, that’s the most obvious idea. Now where would you go next?”

“Somewhere nearest here to ask for help. Hogsmeade, maybe.”

Lucius’ eyes lit up for a second when he remembered something. He then said, “Draco told me a story once that Harry Potter had slipped to Hogsmeade when he was not supposed to – especially when our allies, the Dementors, were guarding the exits and entrances. He strongly suspects Potter is using some secret passage he and his friends only know about, and Potter was seen in Hogsmeade before that Weasley boy escaped.”

“Then, sir, Granger must be on her way to Hogsmeade as we speak…” said Chadron.

“We have some people there in Hogsmeade. I’ll alert them about Granger. You stay put in Hogwarts as long as you still have your cover; we will prevent her from smearing your name. When Harry Potter is brought in front of the Dark Lord, I’d like to treat them with a little reunion, too,” Lucius smiled mischievously.

“Sir, thank you for doing this for me, I don’t know what to say!”

“I’m not doing this for you, Chadron! If I hadn’t spent my money for all your seven years’ education I’d leave you all to yourself and won’t bother thinking of how to help you anymore,” said Lucius rather directly. Jack Chadron bowed his head; he was a bit hurt of what Lucius told him.

“In the most unpleasant event that your true colors be discovered, Chadron, you should leave Hogwarts at once, talk to absolutely no one, and retreat to me immediately. I’ll decide what’s the best future for you, understood?”

Jack Chadron didn’t say anything, and nodded his head. The ghostly head on top of the fire disappeared with a pop, and Jack breathed, stood up, and moved slowly towards his comfortable armchair to think.

If the Death Eaters have truly been recalled, he thought, then his dream that the Dark Lord would return to Hogwarts through his efforts wouldn’t be realized at all. Jack had thought the plan was perfect, and that he had done everything what he was told to. But he also knew by experience even how perfect a plan is, if something can go wrong it will go wrong, and that would change everything whether he liked it or not. And he knew why the operation failed – because he blundered.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his face. He couldn’t kill Dumbledore completely. Even with his remedial efforts (like sneaking off to the hospital wing) he could not complete what he was set out to do. Worse, somebody knew about him. Lucius Malfoy apparently didn’t look at all too angry with him about his failure to do his job properly, and from what he said the Dark Lord wasn’t furious about it (despite his legendary intolerance to failure). Surprisingly Lucius was only irked when he was told somebody knew about Jack’s involvement to the whole affair. It was a good thing Lucius didn’t abandon him just like that and seemed bent to cover up the whole fiasco for him. Even Lucius wasn’t sure if he could come clean even if he seemed confident he could prevent Hermione Granger from divulging everything at the Ministry of Magic.

The only thing Jack thought that was pretty disturbing was what Lucius Malfoy said about spending for his seven years education. There was something he didn’t quite understand why he felt hurt about hearing that. He always knew Draco’s father also treated him like a son, and all the magnanimous contributions he made to complete his education was proof of that. Or was there something else hidden behind all that kindness?

Jack shook his head to remove that thought. All what was happening was playing on his mind (like doubting his benefactor) and he was falling for that. He returned his thoughts to the apparently failed operation.

Jack knew it wouldn’t last very long after learning he hadn’t killed the Headmaster; it certainly looks like it’s going that way – the recall of the Death Eaters was getting real. Not that it mattered much who was the real culprit or not when the New Order would be established, but Lucius Malfoy seemed not to be too confident of the plan’s success from the start that the wreckage of the Weasley Family would be enough to console himself for any event of failure. But Lucius trusted Jack’s instincts that he had approved of the plan’s hasty start, reluctantly at best. That meant Jack Chadron (“Me,” he thought) was responsible for everything. He groaned and moaned.

He realized that he was in a very disadvantageous position now. The participating Death Eaters may just walk out and blend in again with the wizarding world (no one still knew who were among the Death Eaters) until the Dark Lord will recall them again for possibly another try, but what about himself? Would he be discovered as the traitor who tried to kill Dumbledore? The sneakoscope Hermione Granger possessed will be enough to put him in Azkaban. Seven years of studies in Hogwarts all up in smoke because he had chosen the losing side? What he said to Hermione earlier seemed to boomerang on him.

He was beginning to admit he wasn’t prepared for this. Aside from his dreams of serving the Dark Lord, he also loved his relative freedom. He also expected to live a peaceful life like the rest of the wizard world if the Dark Lord can’t come back to power, and Dumbledore seemed to have presented him a better alternative for wizards just out of Hogwarts.

Graduating from the school was the best path for this, and he likewise remembered that it was only Malfoy who had ever given him the chance to be educated – not even his parents could afford his education. The offer was not an outright gift, but a debt to Lucius Malfoy, from a man he knew was a servant of the Dark Lord, in which conditions he had knowingly accepted. Only that this debt to Malfoy didn’t allow him the freedom he wished for, and such repayment came all too suddenly. He was actually beginning to regret to ever wishing for power under the Dark side, but the temptation and the promise of power was also too good to ignore. This was all too confusing for Jack now and worse it was all too late for backing out from everything; the die was cast.

So then he might as well become a Death Eater and stay beside with the Dark Lord for the rest of his life. Perhaps this was his destiny. Jacks attempts to fulfill the plans of the Dark Lord were probably enough for him to be honored and be christened as a Death Eater, and that was enough to console him for the moment. And wasn’t it also he, Jack Chadron, through Divination who originally shared his prediction that Harry Potter will be running away from Hogwarts? He was right all along and without his prediction, the Dark Lord and his circle wouldn’t have thought of tasking some Death Eaters to catch him at all. The Dark Lord seemed to be happy that he’d have a good chance in capturing Harry Potter and this goal of his seemed to have much more weight than capturing Hogwarts itself.

Like what Lucius Malfoy had said, when Hermione Granger does succeed in convincing the Ministry about his involvement, he’ll just have to disappear, not talk to anyone at all, and report to him as soon as possible. Maybe an offer of Death Eater membership was what Lucius was thinking of, too.

-o0o-

Harry and Ron had been resting in one of Willard’s guest rooms for hours. They had spent practically the whole day sleeping outdoors, so they didn’t feel very tired at all. The good thing about this free room for the day is that they both had a nice hot bath, and that Willard had offered them some clean clothes while the ones they had worn were being washed and dried. The other thing Harry and Ron hoped was that the Death Eaters might keep on looking for them outdoors, not even suspecting to check at one of the inns. This was one inn against possibly hundreds, and the odds that they would pick this one among the others were too big.

“First thing tomorrow we’ll find some place with owl post and write to Snuffles,” said Harry. “At least he’ll know what’s happening to us.”

“Yeah, maybe we could go with him until we both go can go back to Hogwarts,” hoped Ron. “He’ll teach us a few tricks.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want him to be caught because of us,” said Harry thoughtfully. “Unless he wants to see us I won’t tell him where we are.”

Ron nodded. He didn’t want Sirius to get caught because of them, too. “You suppose Hermione found anything now, Harry? Can’t we do something to help us, too?”

“Well, if she did find something already, we’d know because I asked her to send Hedwig as a sign, so probably not yet. And I’ve also been thinking what to do because we seem to be too dependent on her. Any ideas?”

“Sorry, not a,” said Ron apologetically. He sat up and looked outside the window. The alley between their building and the next was narrow and slightly lighted. A lone muggle was standing and reading a newspaper under the light post and smoking a cigarette. Ron didn’t find him suspicious at all. There were no bars in the window as he hoped, and there were ledges and a fire escape that they could use to run for it when the Death Eaters come knocking on their door. He stared out the same window for a few minutes.

“What’re you thinking about, Ron?” said Harry softly.

“Home,” said Ron sadly. “I’m thinking about Mum and Dad and what they might be doing now.”

“They’re okay, Ron, I hope,” said Harry, not daring to tell Ron what Ginny had told him days ago about the rest of the Weasley Family. He didn’t want to add something to Ron’s anxieties.

“Dad came to my cell back in Hogwarts before I got in the train,” Ron said, facing the room again and placing his hands on the windowsill.

“Oh,” said Harry. He forgot that he wanted to ask Ron about what Mr. Weasley and he talked about. “How did it go?”

“He was a little angry at first but when I told him my story he just went silent. He just told me a few things, you know, father and son stuff – and promised to get to the bottom of this in the Ministry, but I don’t know how he could, though. His reputation had been destroyed because of me. We just sat there on the floor with me until those wizards took me to the Hogwarts Express…I couldn’t look straight into his eyes for a second, Harry – I was too ashamed to.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about something you didn’t do, Ron,” said Harry.

“Well, running away is – but if I didn’t, I’d be dead, too, right?”

“Yes, we had no choice. Did you talk about what he and your mum thought about all of this?”

“No, he avoided all my questions about it,” said Ron, dropping his breath. “That’s what’s bothering me all along – I don’t know what they think about me. Mum, Bill, Charlie – I don’t care about Percy – Fred and George, Ginny.”

They both fell silent again for a moment, and Harry finally said, “Tell you what, Ron. What d’you think if we just pop in suddenly at the Burrow tomorrow? Find out what they think by ourselves? You can then talk to them, at least -”

Ron looked at Harry, with a mixture of excitement and dread. “Are you mad? What about my family? I don’t want to drag them along with my problems and put them in danger. If they help me in any way they can be blamed for aiding a fugitive or something…”

“Not unless you want them to and stay a minute too long,” thought Harry aloud, and grinned. “Is that what you wanted to do all along – getting back at the Burrow - but were afraid to ask, didn’t you, Ron?”

Ron avoided Harry’s eyes for a moment, but gave in too quickly. “Yeah. I gotta tell them my story.”

“Okay, then, let’s head for the Burrow tomorrow,” said Harry standing up. “Then we’ll plan what to do next whatever happens. I’m sure they’ll believe you…”

“Thanks, Harry!” said Ron, and they shook hands. “Never thought you’d ask.”

“I gotta admit, though, the Burrow is the most obvious place you’d go so we can’t stay there a moment too long,” Harry added. “It’s worth the risk; but if there are signs of Ministry Wizards or Death Eaters around, we gotta run out of there…”

“Okay. I know a place where we could go – a secret place I built when I was a little boy,” said Ron knowingly. “Nobody ever found out about it, not even Fred and George.”

Ron then looked back outside the window and smiled broadly as Harry went back on his bed, looking forward to see his family tomorrow – possibly for the last time. That also gave him a wave of sadness in his heart.

There was a knock on the door. Harry and Ron looked at each other, and one of them cautiously said in a lower voice, “Yes, who is it?”

“It’s me, Willard,” said a muffled voice from the corridor. “I’ve got something to show you, may I come in?”

Ron nodded to Harry slowly, who then went to the door and peered through the security hole. It was Willard all right. He was alone and smiling at the security hole as if he knew someone would look through it to see who was outside the door. Harry then opened the door, ready for anything that might be barging in. “Oh, hi, Willard. Is there a problem?”

“It’s not a problem as I look at it, Harry, but I have something to show ya,” he said, still smiling. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“Oh, not at all,” Harry said after he had looked outside to both ends of the corridor, and finding no one else with Willard. He opened the door fully and beckoned him in courteously. “But my name’s Ernie, remember?”

“Yeah, and that would be Bert,” said Willard, chuckling, and pointing at Ron.

“Who?” said Ron, who had no clue who Bert was supposed to be. Something about what Willard said made Harry suspect he already knew about them, and this made him feel uneasy. Harry wasn’t versed with memory charms, and subjecting someone to it or with other hexes who’d been so kind to him and Ron would be pretty shameful.

“Oh, don’t worry, you two,” said Willard. “I won’t turn you in.”

“Turn us in?” said Ron, still trying to act oblivious to what Willard thought they were.

“I’ve been subscribing to the Daily and Evening Prophet even though I live like a muggle, Harry – and Ron,” Willard said knowingly as he sat down on one of the room’s armchairs. “You’re all over the front page.” He gently passed the paper to Harry, who caught and quickly opened it. Ron jumped from the bed to grab the other edge of the paper to read the headline with Harry. The paper read:

“The Boy Who Lived Wanted by the Law – by Wolfgang Riggenwald

The Magical world is in total shock as word from Hogwarts leaked out that the famous Harry Potter, the same boy that had foiled He Who Must Not Be Named fourteen years ago, has been tagged as an accomplice to Ronald Weasley’s twisted plans to murder Albus Dumbledore.

Sources from the Ministry of Magic in London told the Evening Prophet that last night, Harry Potter was seen in Hogsmeade before Ronald Weasley had managed to escape from the Hogwarts Express, which was used to transport him to meet with Minister Cornelius Fudge. “We have reason to believe [Harry Potter] facilitated the escape of the accused, Mr. Weasley, and that they are now both at large,” said the source in the condition of anonymity. Minister Fudge was unavailable for comment.

As of press time, Albus Dumbledore has not yet recovered from the attack. The deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, is also reported to be in critical condition after being apparently poisoned by an unknown assailant. Hogwarts is said to be currently being run by Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master. A quick look inside the school didn’t suggest any state of panic among the students and staff but classes were apparently suspended until they would reach a comfort level.

‘There are suspicious indications of a cover-up of what is truly happening within Hogwarts like last year,’ said Rita Skeeter, a respected Daily Prophet reporter who wrote about Harry Potter’s secret life and the efforts of Dumbledore to keep such sensitive information away from the public that may destroy the good name of the historic School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. ‘Severus Snape seems to have adopted the same Draconian policies of Dumbledore for a news blackout,’ she added. Still some parents did not believe Miss Skeeter’s opinion and they have expressed confidence that the problem will be resolved within a few days.

Undaunted, Miss Skeeter also suggested the possibility of a third accomplice, but she uncharacteristically refused to name names except that the possible accomplice has ‘something going on with Harry Potter’. She did not elaborate though she strongly urged the Ministry of Magic ‘not to ignore such serious revelations.’

Further developments will be reported as new information comes in.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other uneasily and then at Willard, who was looking at them very intently.

“I’m not the blabby type,” Willard assured, reading Ron and Harry’s faces. “Some people come by and check in at me inn who turn out to be on the run from the law, too. But normally I just don’t go calling the Ministry of Magic.”

“Then why don’t you right now?” asked Ron slowly.

“Oh well, I don’t get my nose in too much on other people’s business,” he said scratching his cheek. “As long as they don’t create too much trouble I leave them alone. Besides, you have a wand and I don’t. Now, as you are my guests in me invitation, I’d appreciate it if you could share me your side of the story…” He leaned back on his armchair to start listening.

Harry thought that he at least owed Willard an explanation, and the guy was right, he had a wand. The story Harry told, with some help from Ron, was long but Willard didn’t yawn from boredom or anything; in fact he was all ears until the end.

“You know why I’m so interested having you around, Harry?” said Willard after Harry finished talking. Harry and Ron shook their heads. “Because you were the reason the wizard world had peace in recent memory. You don’t know how scary it was when You Know Who was terrorizing everybody.

“I hope you’ve realized now that most of the wizard world appreciates what you have done, that includes me. I knew it was you when you came in me inn today; your scar told me so. But you seemed to be a little dodgy about yourself so I played along. Sorry about that. Wait till my little niece hears about you living here, she’ll shriek – she’s twelve and a good fan of yours. Anyway, I shouldn’t be telling everyone about you being here just yet – that won’t help you a bit.

“Now I don’t know who’s crazy enough to believe this nonsense about you in the Daily Prophet – I don’t because of the way you told me your story - but we have to accept it: the press is the press. And most people will believe anything what the Daily Prophet writes. If you don’t mind me giving you some advice, it isn’t wise to keep running away from your problems. You have to face it like men. Pro-act, don’t just react, know what I mean?”

Harry nodded. He felt a little better knowing that not everyone believed what the Daily Prophet wrote about him and Ron, but Willard was probably only a drop in the bucket of people who thought otherwise. The guy was right again; he and Ron shouldn’t keep running away from the law. They had to face the Ministry like men, innocent men, who were just unjustly branded as criminals. Harry admitted writing to Sirius was only a patchwork solution for his problem, and at the same time it was expecting too much to wait for anything new from Hermione – this was too heavy a load to bear for his dear friend. He had to communicate to her and know what is going on and do something about it. A new thought made Harry worry a bit. What if something bad had already happened to her?

Harry wished he hadn’t left the first clue of the conspiracy with her. At least he would have had something to show the Ministry after – not before – he helped Ron escape. Now that would have been the best idea. Now, why didn’t he think of that before? At least he would have planted enough doubt for the Ministry to warrant an investigation. The spur of events back in Hogwarts may have clouded his mind back then. And then he just remembered Olga Gargarin, the Auror who helped him, Ron and Hermione from a horrible monster called an Oarling earlier this term was working for the Ministry in London. She could be their best link with the Ministry of Magic.

“Ron,” Harry said. “I think we should contact Hermione again, see what’s happening with her, and ask help from Olga Gargarin, too. At least we’d know how we could solve our problem if we all work together again.”

“What are you on to, Harry?” said an interested Ron.

“We’ll ask Hermione to send us the note I found in Chadron’s room, and we’ll show it to Olga – I know she’ll then take us in protective custody, I’m betting everything for it. It’s our best shot.”

“Good thinking, Harry, I hope,” said Ron, smiling, now having some renewed hope. “We’ve got to find a way to contact them. Do you know where the Ministry of Magic is?”

“No, I thought you did, Ron,” said Harry.

“I don’t, too, but don’t worry. Mum and Dad must know…they could tell us.”

“That’s the spirit!” said Willard who was still on the armchair, and he was beaming. “You can start writing some letters now. I have a pencil and paper in every room – there’s a wizard’s tavern just across town a few blocks from here. They have 24-hour owl post service and some floo transport. Think what you want to write to your friends real carefully, and you can send it to them first thing tomorrow. I don’t want you going out now, it’s too dangerous during night for men your age.”

Willard stood up and offered his hand to Harry and Ron, and they all shook hands. “Your laundry will be ready soon,” added Willard. “You can check on it before you tuck in. Breakfast is ready before six.” Having said that, he started towards the door.

Harry called Willard as the innkeeper was almost to the door and said, “Thanks. Thanks for everything, Willard.”

“You’re welcome, Harry and Ron,” Willard said, winking, and feeling proud to have been a big help to the Boy Who Lived.

-o0o-

After emerging from the cellar of Honeydukes undetected, Hermione nervously looked around the crowded room full of the usual assortment of candies. It was almost closing time, she supposed, as the witch who tended the shop was rolling down the curtains.

“Here goes,” she muttered to herself and she approached the shopkeeper. “Uh, excuse me,” Hermione said timidly. “May I know how to contact the Ministry of Magic?”

“Oh, hello, dear,” said the shopkeeper. “Quite unusual to have a student out of Hogwarts this time of year; make that two because I saw one the other day here and it was Harry Potter…”

“Please, ma’am, I need to know how to get to the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible,” said Hermione.

“Is there an emergency, dear?” asked the shopkeeper.

Hermione nodded.

“Well, the Ministry isn’t connected to the Floo Network so naturally you can’t just floo in,” the witch said thoughtfully. “The best way is to ride the Hogwarts Express to London and you’ll have to take it from there.”

“That would take too long. Is there any other way you can think of?”

“Does anyone from Hogwarts know you’re here, dear?” asked the witch suspiciously.

“Y-Yes, they do,” said Hermione. Telling the witch the opposite might alarm her and notify someone from Hogwarts and she’d be dragged all the way back there. That was not an option.

“Uh-huh, I see,” said the witch. “Well, why don’t you come over here in the next room and wait for me to close the shop, and I’ll think of something for you.”

Before Hermione could argue, the witch pulled her by the arms and made her sit on one of the squashy armchairs. “Now, just relax and I’ll be with you in moment,” said the witch, and she returned to her last remaining customers.

Hermione couldn’t relax at all as her adrenaline was pumping furiously. She ventured inside the rest of the shop. The next room had tables in it for customers who couldn’t wait to eat their candy, and in the same room she saw two fireplaces. One had a fire, and the other on the opposite wall was not lit. Hermione supposed this was for floo transport. It was a shame that the Ministry of Magic didn’t allow floo travel to their offices, and that was understandable. Having one was a security risk.

There were still people who were walking along the arcades outside the shop. Hermione had the urge to approach one of them and ask for directions how to get the Ministry of Magic other than the Hogwarts Express (which was back at London at the moment) but decided against it because it might just confuse her, she thought. Besides, she was a regular customer with Ron in this shop and the witch-owner seemed to be a good lady.

A few minutes later, the witch finally closed shop and returned her attention to Hermione. “Now let me see, dear,” she said gently. “I’m afraid there’s no other way to go to London other than the Hogwarts Express. What’s so important that you need to get to the Ministry so soon?”

“Sorry, I can’t tell you, ma’am, but it’s a matter of life and death.”

The witch nodded curtly and then her face lit up. “Oh, yes, I think you’re in luck,” she said and without saying anything further, she whipped around and started out the door.

Curious, Hermione called behind her. “What is it, ma’am?”

“There are some Ministry Wizards going around Hogsmeade tonight,” she replied absentmindedly. “I’ll get them for you.” Without waiting for any answer from Hermione, the witch went out the porch and waved at one of the wizards who were standing on the other side of the street.

“No, ma’am, please, wait,” said Hermione. But it was too late. The witch had already called the attention of the wizards, and one of them seemed to have seen Hermione and recognized her already. They quickly strode towards the sweet shop with expressionless faces. She bet everything they were actually Death Eaters, not from the Ministry of Magic.

Getting a little afraid and not wanting to run outside the shop where she knew she’ll surely be caught, Hermione frantically looked for a way out of there. The trapdoor back to the tunnel was the first choice, but there was a big risk that it will be discovered and she’ll be trapped there unless she returned to Hogwarts again, which was absolutely out of the question. Next, she remembered about the fireplace and she decided it was her best chance. Her mind raced to think of a good place to go as she hurried toward the next room and hoped at the same time to find some floo powder nearby.

The wizards were almost at the porch of the shop, and there were at least three of them who were quite large for Hermione to hold off.

“Miss, what’s wrong – the Ministry is here like you wanted…” said the confused witch as she saw Hermione running. Hermione ignored her, found a pot full of floo to her big relief, and grasped a handful on her right hand as she got in the fireplace and prepared to be transported to the first place that came into her mind.

“Home!” Hermione said quickly, dropping floo on the fireplace’s floor, and violent green flame enveloped her as she was whisked away.

The wizards had just entered the room and cursed loudly when they found out Hermione was already gone. They stomped out of the shop and one of them murmured, “He won’t be too happy about this…” past the puzzled witch.

11. The Wrong Hero

Chapter 10

“Wrong Hero”

While being whisked off by the floo powder, Hermione had become worried if “Home” was a valid floo destination. The spinning and whirling as innumerable fireplaces were flashing past made her very dizzy. Finally, she slid on the floor out of the fireplace she hoped that was in her family’s house. She coughed up some ash that had found its way in her mouth, and rubbed her eyelids with her fingers to clear up any dust before opening her eyes.

To her immense relief she recognized the place she was in was really her house’s sitting room. She caught a glimpse of her father’s favorite recliner stood where it has been (beside the cozy fireplace) for as long as she could remember, and the large portrait of her parents holding a grinning baby Hermione adorned the wall at the back of the couch were both convincing signs that this was indeed home. But then it was oddly darker – and more quiet - than usual inside. Usually, the light at some places in the sitting room was kept on at night. Only a couple was lit and the windows were all shut.

“Mum? Dad?” Hermione called anxiously as she got up and ran from room to room. The Granger house was small, but not cramped, and she got in every room in less than half a minute. There was absolutely nobody inside and the beds were all made up, undisturbed. “What happened to my parents?” she nervously asked herself. Then as she looked for clues of her parents’ whereabouts, she noticed there were some brochures on the dining table, and instinctively she picked one up, reading it.

“Dentist convention in Paris,” she muttered under her breath and shaking her head. “Just my luck…Mum and Dad’s away,” Hermione groaned and looked around as she sat down on one of the dining chairs; she had never dreamed of getting home in the middle of the term. Everything happened so fast, and she didn’t know what she should feel right then. Hermione somehow felt happy to be back home, and at the same time, disappointed that her parents weren’t around, and afraid that Death Eaters might be barging in any minute without warning because she knew muggle homes are one of the most vulnerable places to hide from wizards. Nobody else knew she was here except her – and had the Death Eaters heard what she said in the fireplace back at Honeydukes? If they did, they’d just look up her address and simply floo in or apparate. The thought made her shudder and she stared at the fireplace, holding her wand, just in case they’d show up.

She crossed her fingers that the Death Eaters had lost her trail and it apparently looked that they did. For what felt like an hour, nothing happened. Hermione felt very exhausted as she was slumped on her dad’s recliner, fighting to hold her eyes open; she hoped that she was now relatively safe for the moment, at least. Remembering that she hadn’t eaten pretty well back in the Hogwarts kitchen, her stomach growled loudly. Taking the cue, she took some food out of the fridge and heated them in the microwave, while she snatched glances toward the fireplace. The slice of cake, apple, and instant cheese macaroni in front of her seemed to have disappeared in a snap.

After her late supper she had an idea to make some kind of a tripping device to warn her of any intruders. So she got some string out the cupboard, hung a small bell on it, and tied the string across the fireplace. She hoped this was enough to warn her of anyone else in the house; a wizard could easily remove the detachable iron grilles that went with the fireplace. It was lucky that all the windows and the front and back doors had their own burglar alarms so she turned them all on, too. It often irritated Hermione when her Mum or Dad reminded her to turn all the alarms (about twenty of them) every night before going to bed, but now she understood how her parents felt about home security. She didn’t know what to do if the Death Eaters just apparated in and hoped they would never even think about it.

She washed herself and changed into outdoor Muggle clothes in case she had to get out of the house in a hurry. If the Death Eaters didn’t know where she went tonight, they’d probably try to find out where she lived as a Muggle. That won’t take long; she reckoned it would take them about a day and then they might check out this house – maybe sooner. That meant she had to keep on moving, at least for the time being, while she thought of a way to find the Ministry of Magic. The problem was that since she found out she was a witch, she had never bothered of asking anyone where it was located. Diagon Alley was the only place she knew where to find, and maybe there were lots of wizards and witches there who would be glad to help her find the Ministry. The only danger for her for going to Diagon Alley, she further thought, is that she’d be exposing herself to Death Eaters who might be stationed there to look out for her.

“Well, who does Jack Chadron think he is anyway?” she told herself aloud, huffing. Voldemort most likely wouldn’t use most of his limited number of Death Eaters and spread them out too thin just to prevent Chadron from being unmasked as the traitor. That was asking too much his case. So she decided Diagon Alley was the best lead of ending this affair once and for all, first thing in the morning, but at the same time she made it a point to watch out for danger. She packed some things into her backpack – extra clothes, the big fat Swiss army knife her mum gave her for Christmas, food, and other essentials. She also took out the money she saved all year long under the bed – just a few Pounds to help her travel to and around London.

Then the thought of Harry and Ron popped in very quickly, who both had absolutely no idea where she was right now. How could they know where she was when they hadn’t had a chance to communicate for days? Hermione felt it was imperative that they knew what was happening to her now, and she hoped they could also get in touch with her at the soonest possible time. The problem was how could she send an owl to Harry when there wasn’t one?

She then remembered she had some leftover wizard stamps in her desk, much to her relief. Wizard stamps looked like ordinary postage stamps, but for anyone who didn’t possess an owl of their own, like Hermione and her parents, they’re a great alternative. All one had to do was stick a wizard stamp on the envelope and within minutes an owl will fly in to pick it up and deliver it to the recipient, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.

Hermione rushed to her room and fumbled with the key to her largest desk drawer, getting scared for a while that she had ran out of stamps. She squealed when she found some, enough to send out at least three deliveries. Making do with ordinary stationery paper and ballpoint pen (her quill and ink bottle were in her trunk back in the Gryffindor dormitories), she started to write to Harry:

-------

Dear Harry,

You won’t believe where I’ve ended up. No, I’m not in prison and I’m okay. It’s a long story but I’ll try to shorten it so you can know what’s going on. I’m out of Hogwarts. I hope it’s somehow safe to say that I’m somewhere in London but I can’t say where exactly as this letter might fall into the wrong hands. I know this letter can reach you wherever you are – these owls are amazing.

Jack Chadron is fully aware I already know what really happened in Dumbledore’s office. Like we suspected, it was him all along who tried to kill Dumbledore, and I have something with me that will clear Ron and very incriminating for Chadron at the same time. It would be enough to put him in Azkaban.

All I need to do is to get this object to the Ministry of Magic. The problem is I don’t know where to find it, and Death Eaters are after me. I’ve thought of going around the place where I bought Crookshanks (you do know which place I’m talking about, right?) and I’ll ask around. I know everything will be all right when I can hand over the evidence to the Ministry. I am confident that you and Ron will be reinstated to Hogwarts and that the Ministry will pardon both of you as you are only the victims.

I’m enclosing a wizard stamp in the envelope. Just stick it on the envelope and an owl will come and pick it up, usually within a quarter of an hour. I hope you can send a reply to me as soon as possible for I am so worried about you and Ron right now. You could write your letter as vaguely as possible as not to jeopardize yourself but clear enough for me to understand.

Please don’t worry about me. I’ll send word if everything’s clear. Please be careful, both of you.

Lots of Love from,

Hermione

---------

Hermione read through her letter once more to be sure what she had wrote. Satisfied, she sealed it in an envelope, then licked and stuck a wizard stamp. The stamp sparkled in bright turquoise briefly, signifying that the owl post people had detected it and would send over the nearest owl.

Next, Hermione started to write a note to leave for her parents because they would surely freak out when they’d find the mess she had no time straighten up. It took her a long time to finalize her note, deciding what to write or not; she didn’t want to tell her parents something that will worry them too much. She at last concluded the note with a promise that she’d explain everything to them why she had gotten home so unexpectedly in the middle of the term.

Shortly, she heard a loud thump that seemed to come from the kitchen window. Her first instinct was to hide under the table, fearing the sound was made by someone trying to get in, and heaven forbid, Death Eaters. She had her wand out, ready for anything, only that she heard a loud groggy hoot that seemed to come from outside the same window. Hermione inched nervously towards it, and she saw a brown owl perched on the sill, massaging its aching head with its left wing and glaring at her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot to open that window,” she told the owl after she opened the window, bringing inside the cool night breeze and setting off the shrill burglar alarm. Hermione quickly searched for the switch and turned it off. Seeing that nobody around seemed to have heard it, she returned her attention to the owl. “Are you hurt? Do you need anything?”

The owl didn’t make any sound in response, but Hermione could tell it was angry at her when it flew around the kitchen, flapping its wings more vigorously than normal before scooping out the wizard-stamped envelope from the counter and flying away. Hermione closed the window again, furious with herself for forgetting to anticipate the pick-up. Because of this, far-fetched thoughts played in Hermione’s mind about the owl dumping the letter in the middle of nowhere for payback. It took her some time conclude that doing that sort thing would be unprofessional for owls, which were famously proud of their jobs. She thought that this risky business she was currently involved in was taking its toll on her because the littlest sound made her jumpy. But then again, all her efforts were for Ron, Harry, and her friendship - that was worth the trouble anytime. Heading towards the sitting room, she realized she had worried a lot for today and decided to stop thinking about it too much.

“Just bring the thing to the Ministry of Magic and it’ll all be over, girl,” Hermione told herself, yawning. She was so tired that she could no longer argue with herself to skip sleep and watch out for Death Eaters. She slumped on the three-seat couch chest down and fell asleep in an instant.

-o0o-

One by one the Death Eaters who found their way in Hogwarts were leaving the school as Lucius Malfoy had planned. Only the few genuine Ministry wizards who were unsuspected of being Death Eaters were told to stay behind and act as the liberators; Jack, despite his responsibility for the plot’s failure, was included in the plan, too. Lucius wanted him to look like he was the key figure for the recovery of the school from Voldemort’s near grasp and that would make him the hero, much to chagrin of all the Death Eaters who took the trouble to risk traveling to Hogwarts, and then fleeing, for nothing.

Jack Chadron, however, couldn’t completely feel happy about it though. His mind was too preoccupied as he waited anxiously for news whether Hermione Granger was stopped before she could escape or not, possibly from Hogsmeade. His future seemed to be already relying on what Hermione could and could not do with the Sneakoscope.

At last, the news came in about Hermione as one of the last Death Eaters approached Jedd Wright, the leader of the Ministry wizards tasked to stay behind to clean up the mess. Jack was standing alongside him in one of the deserted Hogwarts corridors just outside the classrooms. No students and staff were outside tonight as most of them were locked up in the Great Hall.

“The girl got away by flooing out from Honeydukes, Jedd,” the Death Eater quietly reported. “If Mr. Malfoy hasn’t called us off yet, we’ll keep trying to track her down.” This info made Jack drop his breath. He was right about Hermione Granger ending up in Hogsmeade from Hogwarts. They had the upper hand but the stupid Death Eaters failed to take advantage of that to capture her. Now she could be anywhere around Britain.

“Thank you, Leo,” said Jedd, nodding. His face was impassive.

“I don’t see the point of stretching our limited resources stopping the girl from doing anything to report this idiot here,” said Leo glaring at Jack Chadron, who went red with growing regret and embarrassment. “The Dark Lord has better uses for our services...”

“I know, but that will do, Leo. You may go now,” said Jedd calmly. “If you have any problems with this you can always complain personally with Mr. Malfoy.” Leo knew complaining with Lucius Malfoy meant severe pain so he didn’t push the subject, but this didn’t stop him from giving Jack Chadron a last insolent stare as he whipped around to leave.

When Leo disappeared from view Jedd turned to look at Jack, who hung his head like any inexperienced apprentice who had failed in front of his more seasoned superiors. The deep shame Jack felt was too unbearable for him.

“You’ve done very well, wet nose,” said Jedd sarcastically, calling him something that irritated Jack a great deal. “I don’t know what makes Mr. Malfoy think you’re special, but I’ve heard you’re the cause of demoralization among many of the Dark Lord’s Deatheaters. We’ve been ordered to play along with the story to make you the hero and that is, of course, completely unfair. You have to know that this has never been done before, covering up somebody else’s mistakes and we’re risking wasting years of blending in with the Ministry of Magic as double agents just to save your skin! The Dark Lord is famously intolerant of blundering servants - a mere mistake could cost a limb or even the life for many of the Death Eaters.”

“But you can’t do anything about it now, can you?” retorted Jack. “I’m special. Lucius Malfoy thinks so. The rest of you are not. I’ve heard him say the Dark Lord is pleased for my efforts, and he will reward, not punish me! You’ll see when I stand beside the Dark Lord while you tremble in front of him,” he said naively.

Jedd just laughed. “Have it your way then. Ah, let’s forget about this little argument and carry on with our task shall we? I hope you’ll get your chance to face the Dark Lord soon. He’d be very glad to see you and give you your – just rewards, I daresay.” With this, Jedd walked off smirking and began barking orders to start freeing the imprisoned students and staff at the Great Hall, leaving Jack Chadron feeling more uncertain than ever.

“Did you take care of Hagrid?” Jack managed to ask a passing Death Eater/Ministry Wizard, trying to sound authoritative again.

“Yes,” the Death Eater told him. “His memory has been modified already. He won’t remember a thing the girl told him.”

“Thank you,” said Jack, feeling more relaxed as the last known person who knew about his involvement with the plot to kill Dumbledore has been taken care of. At least Hermione Granger is the only one left he had to worry about, and some Death Eaters are hard at work to make sure she doesn’t tell anyone. A great flood of students spilled out of the Great Hall as the great oak doors were opened, almost trampling the two Death Eaters who did the task of freeing them.

“Everybody, please don’t panic, the Death Eaters have fled Hogwarts and we came here to rescue you,” Jedd said as he held out both hands to try to calm them down and stop the flow. The students in front did, but not without the scared and confused faces.

“Make way, make way,” said Professor Snape as he impatiently sliced through a group of students blocking the exit from the Great Hall, with Professor Vector and Professor Sprout behind him.

“Severus, you old bat!” said Jedd happily to an annoyed Snape. “Nice to know you’re alive!” Snape looked like he had met Jedd before.

“I would rather dispense with the pleasantries and I’d like to know at once what really is happening around Hogwarts, Jedd,” said Snape impatiently. “We’ve been locked up in the Great Hall since sundown, and you’d better explain this…”

“Ah, you’re sounding as if I’m behind all of this, Severus,” said Jedd, mocking a hurt feeling. “But I don’t blame you a bit as you are still very confused. Your Head Boy here had managed to call for help when Death Eaters almost took over the school. We only got here just in time and chased them off the grounds. If not for Chadron here, You-Know-Who would have stepped in and that would have meant another reign of terror, I shudder to think. He’s a very brave man and you should all be proud of him.”

Students within earshot of the conversation were murmuring and whispering, and the flow of information was passed along towards the back, deep in the Great Hall. There were gasps, sounds of relief, and snatches of cheers that prominently came from the Slytherins. Snape looked at Jack Chadron, whose face was expressionless except for a single hint of a smile.

“Is this true, Chadron?” said Snape, expecting a positive response. Jack nodded, and the professor, for the first time in many days, beamed out of pride.

“And have anyone of you discovered who the traitor might be who helped bring this about? Anyone?” Snape asked with growing eagerness evident in his voice.

“It was Hermione Granger all along, Professor,” said Jack Chadron quickly before Jedd could say something different. Some Gryffindors were shocked upon hearing this, especially Hermione’s closest Housemates. “She fled with the Death Eaters after I discovered her – I also believe Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were her accomplices.”

“I’ll see to it that these people you have mentioned will be put to justice,” said Jedd seriously. “They’re on the run as we speak, but not for long.”

Not even Snape could believe what he was hearing, even though he had tried hard (and always failed) for the last few years to find a reason to expel Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He just stood there, not knowing why he couldn’t feel happy about this. From his point of view, however, the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit, or maybe he just wanted it to be that way. But Hermione Granger, working for Death Eaters? Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, who relied exclusively on Albus Dumbledore for protection, work alongside her, too?

That was abnormal, but the fact that the Slytherin Head Boy did a heroic and admirable job for the school had made Snape set aside Hermione Granger’s and Harry Potter’s treason for the meantime because he’d be having all the time in world to enjoy life at Hogwarts without them. He wasn’t keen on passing up this chance to display ostentatiously a Slytherin achievement to everyone.

In recent memory it was always someone from Gryffindor who held the honors of saving Hogwarts from peril. Harry Potter was always the hero, along with his cohorts Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. From preventing Voldemort from stealing the Sorcerer’s Stone to saving the school from closure by uncovering the Chamber of Secrets, they were the ones who were given all the credit. Now it was Jack Chadron who stood up against the most direct threat to Hogwarts, which was the aborted take over of Voldemort that Snape would be investigating further in the future. Snape, overcome with pride, and more than willing to believe every word Jack and Jedd had told him, faced the rest of the students.

“Students, teachers,” Snape started cheerfully. “I am immensely proud to announce that Jack Chadron, a Slytherin, almost single-handedly saved Hogwarts from being taken over by the Dark Lord.” He raised Jack’s right arm in a display of victory. “No less than Jedd Wright from the Ministry of Magic has witnessed this! Let’s hear it for our newest hero!”

The applause from the students and teachers were not spontaneous as Snape would have hoped for, but the gradual volume of clapping hands had raised just enough to make nearly everyone burst into wild cheers and thunderous approbation. Jack Chadron, who beamed broadly, was lifted up to sit atop the tallest Slytherin student and was brought to the center of the large mass of black robes; all hands tried to pat him as he waved his arms jubilantly. All, except the majority of the Gryffindors who were saddened by the story of Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s attempts to betray the school. Jack Chadron caught a glimpse of Jedd’s disapproving stare, but he didn’t care what the Death Eater thought of him and he wanted to keep on savoring the glory he felt while it lasted. After all, he was special in the eyes of the Dark Lord as he had always believed.

If the two other unaccounted students who knew what Jack Chadron really was had gotten out of their hiding place, they would find the spectacle of Jack Chadron being treated as the hero very appalling.

-o0o-

Harry and Ron were just lying on their beds deep in their individual thoughts. They didn’t feel real sleepy tonight as they practically slept the whole day out in the woods. Ron was evidently jumpy than normal tonight, because he’d always give a start when he would hear some noise nearby.

“I think you better relax, Ron,” said Harry, his eyebrows furrowing as Ron ran to the window to peer outside for the eighth time. “You’re starting to worry me, and besides, they probably won’t even think we’d stay in this hotel...”

Ron wasn’t so sure about that. He and Harry both thought the Death Eater Graham was just boasting about his capabilities, but his words were boring deep into Ron’s sub-conscious mind. Ron didn’t answer, pretending not to hear Harry. He squinted through the misty glass to notice that a light drizzle had wet the street a story below their room. Then he saw someone standing just beside a streetlight further across the street. The man was standing idly, and seemed to look steadily at the building they were in. He was wearing muggle clothing: a thick jacket, shirt, jeans, and a cap. Ron found it odd that he kept holding his left ear with his left hand.

Horrible scenarios then played in Ron’s mind, and he gasped.

“H-Harry, come here, and look!” said Ron nervously as he broke his sight with the man for a moment to call Harry. Harry jumped off his bed and quickly hopped towards the window. “There, by the lamppost across the street –“

“Who is it?” said Harry, gazing at the same man from his side of the window. “He looks like Muggle.”

“How can you tell? He looks suspicious, and I’ve never seen anyone in my life holding his ear all the time…”

Harry tried to look closer, and the man faced a different direction, now leaning on the lamppost. Harry knew why he’d been holding his left ear for a long time, and laughed.

“Harry, I’m serious, you know,” Ron said irritably, glaring at Harry.

“Ron, I think you’re losing your marbles,” said Harry, snorting and suppressing his laughter. “He’s just talking on his mobile phone. He doesn’t act like a wizard to me.”

“What’s a move-a-phone?”

Harry explained, trying hard not to stop laughing, how convenient it is nowadays for Muggles to keep in touch with each other now that mobile phones have become common. This caught Ron’s fascination, and Harry was glad he found a reason to steer him away from window and keep his mind off the pursuing Death Eaters.

“Wicked!” said Ron after hearing Harry talk about radios and television. “What time is it?”

“About ten,” replied Harry. “Which reminds me, Willard said our laundry would be ready by then – I’ll see if they are already…”

“I’ll go, too. I don’t want to be alone a second too long…even the curtains give me the creeps.”

They both walked out the room towards the lobby where Willard was staying most of the time. The second floor corridor was flanked by at least eight doors on each side, and their room was located at the end of the hall. Walking down the carpeted stairs, they heard some voices coming out of the dining room. They would have thought the people making them were just guests from the inn if not for the hint of fear in one of the voices. Harry held out a hand in front of Ron and they both stopped to listen.

Getting the idea, Ron followed Harry on tiptoe to go further down the stairs just far enough to peek down the ground floor without being seen.

“I-I don’t know who you’re looking for, sir!” said Willard, trembling. A man Harry recognized as Graham was holding him by the collar. There were two other wizards glaring down on Willard, too. This made Harry’s (and especially Ron’s) heart beat faster, worrying about what might happen to Willard.

“I only have three customers tonight…n-none of them by the name of Potter! Honest!”

“And how do you explain this?” one of the wizards spat as he threw a Hogwarts robe at Willard’s face.

“I-it’s mine – I was a Hogwarts student, formerly,” replied Willard.

“Don’t lie to me, Willard!” snarled Graham. “An informant said he saw Harry Potter and his friend come in this shabby hotel of yours and never got out ever since!”

Willard didn’t answer.

“Now, all you have to do is tell me which room he’s in and we’ll be on our way – as simple as that. Or would you rather like to see some green light – the last thing you’ll ever see in your life?”

Harry admired Willard’s pains to protect him and Ron even if they had only met for a few hours, and he felt bad for bringing about the trouble – he had to do something, fast, before he gets hurt. He pulled Ron back up the stairs to the second floor to confer.

“What do we do?” hissed Harry. “Willard doesn’t deserve to die for us…”

“I know!” said Ron, brainstorming. “I mean, I don’t know! Ooooh, my mind is hopeless…”

“Come, let’s go back to the room and find something that could give us some ideas…” They both ran as quietly as possible back to their room and rummaged through drawers, hoping to find something.

“Here’s a yard of white rope,” said Ron, finding it under the bed. But he paused to ponder what it was doing in a hotel room. “Nah, I don’t think so…”

“That’s brilliant!” said Harry, snatching the rope and he looked around the room. He discovered that the wall on top of the door seemed to be unstable. It had a shelf up to the ceiling containing some stacks of linen and some ceramic vases. Harry smiled mischievously. “Perfect.”

Harry ran towards the foot of the door and tied the rope across just a few inches above the floor.

“You’re planning to trip the Death Eaters?” asked Ron, skeptical if they would fall for it.

“Old Muggle trick, Ron,” said Harry as he tied the other end of the rope at something. “They don’t watch TV, right?”

“Yeah, I don’t too, remember? But I’m not that thick…”

Harry ignored what Ron said, and faced him, looking very serious. “Ron, I’ll try to get their attention away from Willard. You can use the window to get to the front door and wait ‘till they chase me right to this room then grab Willard and get yourselves out of the building. We meet at the – uhm - lamppost we saw earlier. I have something in store for them that would be enough to buy us some time for us to escape. But if you don’t see me getting out of the window, just run as far away as you can.”

“What? Harry, let’s just bug out of here and forget about this place while we still can,” said Ron, positively looking terrified. “But, yeah, I agree Willard needs our help…” Ron added quickly after seeing Harry’s face fall as if he couldn’t believe Ron would want to abandon someone who had helped them very generously. “It’s a go.”

Feeling happier, Harry started towards the corridor and looked back to watch Ron get on the fire escape to go down the street. Ron paused before getting out completely and said, “Harry, what happens if you don’t get out of this window?”

“Then it’s hello to Volde- sorry, You Know Who for me again.”

Ron bit his lower lip, positively terrified with that prospect and said, “We can do this; we have to…see you down at the street.” They both exchanged thumbs-up signs.

Harry got back and inched down towards the staircase. He heard Graham and the other two Death Eaters still interrogating Willard, whose voice was now weaker than he heard minutes ago. Apparently, he had been through some kind of torture. Harry waited a few more seconds to give Ron time to position himself before acting. Then…

“Hello, Graham, looking for me?” said Harry as he skipped a few steps to land halfway down the stairs. Graham and the Death Eaters didn’t do anything at once, staring at Harry with surprise, as if they weren’t expecting to actually find him here.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry yelled, and the three Wizards’ wands flew to his hand. He caught them while knocking the three men off the floor very painfully. He then retreated towards the second floor, back towards the room.

“After him, you idiots!” snarled Graham as he untangled himself and got up to start to go after Harry, leaving Willard behind. He selfishly let his two mates go first in case there was a trap waiting for them, running just behind them up the staircase. Ron, who was peeking inside from the street, got in as soon as the coast was clear and pulled Willard to get out with him fast.

“Come, Willard, we gotta get out of here before they come back!” Ron urged Willard, who knew better not to stay behind. He painfully got up to his feet, and followed Ron out towards the street, but not without flipping the “closed” sign and locking the front door.

Harry had skipped on his own trap as he entered his hotel room and stopped short of the window to face the pursuing Death Eaters when they’d get in. The two Death Eaters however screeched to a halt just a few inches away from the trip wire. They had seen it, not falling for the trap and they shook their finger in unison at Harry, grinning. Harry just shrugged calmly, pointed his wand up the shelf right above them, and shouted “FLIPENDO!”

The shelf and the vases came crashing down painfully on the Death Eaters’ heads, knocking them out, and burying them with a heap of clothes and linen. Harry had time to laugh just before Graham showed himself at the doorway.

“Idiots,” muttered Graham as he looked at the heap in front of him, then glared at Harry, who was sitting at the windowsill very calmly, twiddling his thumbs. Maybe it was his intense obsession to capture Harry so soon or it was just plain stupidity as not to smell another trap that Graham lunged at him, and his foot caught the wire, slamming his full weight on the hard floor. Graham winced in pain as he tried to lift himself up. “Why you…you!” he mumbled under his breath furiously.

“See you around!” said Harry. He pointed his wand at Graham, whose face was still twisted with fury, and bellowed, “STUPEFY!!!” Graham, the expert hunter laid on the floor, harmless like a sleeping baby. Harry didn’t dare to linger on to admire his handywork and got down to the street through the fire escape. He had subjected the hotel room door and window with a Locker Spell that can only be opened by the Alohomora Charm, and without their wands, Graham and the two Death Eaters would take almost forever to get themselves out without outside help.

Harry saw Willard and a relieved Ron stand just beside the lamppost as he climbed down the ladder. “Good!” said Ron as they finally met at the sidewalk. “I was beginning to think they already got you! Did they fall for it?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, laughing. “They were too easy. I think they won’t be a problem for a while. You okay, Willard?”

“Yeah,” said Willard, smiling. “Thanks for saving me back there, you two.”

“You’re welcome,” said Harry, “But I think you didn’t need saving if we hadn’t chosen to check out your place in the first place,” he added slowly. “Sorry if we gave you lots of trouble, Willard.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Harry,” said Willard, still wearing the same smile. “I don’t regret one bit to have had the Boy Who Lived and his best friend staying in me hotel! Before this, my life had been one big bore, and wait till my niece hears what you happened in this place. She’ll squeal!”

Harry and Ron just stared at Willard. They just couldn’t believe the enthusiasm of this jolly old bloke even in the face of peril.

“Believe me, don’t worry about it,” said Willard, reading their faces. “Oh, I’ll call some Muggle police to take care of those big gits up there once I get back here. They’ll have a lot to explain for breaking in and threatening me. Without their wands, who’d believe they’re wizards? They’ll find themselves in straightjackets if they insist of being one, and they’ll be off your backs for a long time, I tell you.”

Harry and Ron laughed.

“Now that you’re out here,” said Willard, thinking, “I’d better show you the tavern I told you before where to get owl post and floo transport. It’s called ‘Froth’s’. I think it’s best if you cut the wait and get back to where you came from, eh? They know me, and they’ll probably show you some better alternatives rather than having to inhale some ash by flooing.”

“That’d be great!” said Ron, now looking forward to getting back at the Burrow.

“Willard, we’ll never forget what you’ve done for us,” said Harry, shaking his head slowly with gratitude. “We don’t know how to repay you for everything.”

“Oh, please forget about it. What are friends for?” Willard simply replied, because in truth he just wanted to help Harry and Ron.

“Yeah, friends,” Harry and Ron said, extending their hands, and Willard happily shook them. “We also have another best friend we’d like you to meet. Her name’s Hermione. We’ve got to get in touch with her soon – I’ve got a bad feeling she’s in trouble.”

“If you have a bad feeling, then it’s best if you take care of it soon. I’d love to meet her someday, too. Oh, there’s just one more thing…” Willard pulled out the pad he writes on when writing orders from customers and a pen and gave it to Harry. “My niece’s name is Stephanie, and she’d love to get your autograph, if you don’t mind.”

Harry gladly obliged, taking Willard’s pen and scribbled his signature on the paper.

“You look like a real celebrity now, Harry,” chuckled Ron. Harry winced.

“Thanks a million, Harry,” Willard said, laughing at the look of his face, and retrieving his pen and pad. “We gotta get a move on and get to Froth’s – we don’t want to find out if those blokes have other henchmen around, you know.”

“Oh, you’re right…let’s go,” said Harry, looking around the area. The street looked empty except for a couple who were smooching on a bench. The three of them walked north.

12. The Pocket Portkey

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 11

“The Pocket Portkey”

Harry and Ron’s walk to Froth’s took about half an hour. It was useful to have Willard tagging along, otherwise Harry thought they’d get lost in the village and spend days looking for the well hidden tavern even wizards would have a hard time noticing.

“Ah, we’re here,” said Willard, his back facing against the old cobbled street. Harry and Ron looked around to find any signage with the tavern’s name on it, but they only found themselves staring at the part of a building with a solid brick wall flanked by two designer-clothes shops.

“Uh, where?” Harry said, looking at the two shops back and forth. “I see nothing but boarded-up shops.”

“Don’t you see it?” said Willard, amused. “It’s right there – the brick wall. See?”

Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled looks and they both shrugged. Willard laughed.

“Well, that’s really a brick wall, of course,” he said. “It’s actually the entrance to Froth’s. Look’s small, doesn’t it? Wait till you see what’s inside…”

To the naked eye, the two shops seemed to be just beside each other, and no one could suspect there might be an establishment in between them. Then Harry got it – Froth’s was probably the equivalent of a dodgy muggle pub, thus the inconspicuous entrance. The tavern didn’t have a door, but the brick wall for an entrance. A wizard would have to knock on it with his wand to be heard from within. Harry had never been to those muggle joints where one could find hiding felons and/or shady characters, and he had never wished to be in one, either. He shuddered to think what he might find in a wizard version of it. Reading Harry’s face again, Willard said, “Just keep close to me and they won’t touch you.”

“Okay,” said Harry, his voice betraying his nervousness. And found out he did as the brick wall opened up in front of them. Hags, goblins, heavily-tattooed wizards - you name every despicable character – Froth’s seemed to have all of them at the very moment. The whole tavern was decorated like a cave and it was huge, dark, and the ceiling was full of stagnant cigar smoke. Harry knew in the wizarding world that size didn’t matter from outside, and the brick wall about six feet across was actually the whole club. He had seen other objects that looked normal-sized, but had spacious interiors like Mr. Weasley’s Ford Anglia and the Quidditch World Cup tents, but Froth’s was too much in his point of view.

The noise of the crowd died down as Harry, Ron, and Willard walked their way towards the bar. The silence was nerve-wracking especially for Ron because it suggested that everyone in the whole tavern looked in their direction. Harry saw a glimpse of an old witch who seemed to be considering them as she rubbed her chin and showed off her crooked (and yellow) teeth. This prompted Harry to reach for his wand inside his robes just in case something untoward happened.

“Willard!” called the bartender happily, who was cleaning the bar top with an old rag. “How’s life in the Ministry of Magic?” Loud conversation instantly came back to life in the tavern when everybody heard the bartender’s question.

Willard winked at Harry and Ron and said, “That always works for them…” They approached the bartender and sat on the empty stools. Ron was looking around nervously at all the customers, but no one was already paying him and Harry much attention anymore.

“Are you really from the Ministry…” Ron started to ask.

“Nope,” said Willard at once, grinning.

“Zack, meet Bart and, uh, Homer,” Willard told the bartender. “They’re my nephews and they’ve been stranded…” Harry fixed his bangs to cover his scar, hoping Zack hadn’t spotted it.

“Oh, nice to meet you, two,” said Zack, smiling. “Which one of you is Bart?”

“I am,” said Harry and Ron at the same time. “Uh, he’s Homer,” they both said again in unison. Harry and Ron kicked each other on the foot when Zack gave them a puzzled look.

“They’re a bit confused,” said Willard quickly. “Never been away from their family, you see. They need to get home immediately, but they’re living near London – too far to walk to get there instantly, you know what I mean.”

“Ah,” said Zack, although equally confused. “So, what is it you need, exactly?”

“We need some floo powder, I think” said Harry. “We ran out of them today.”

“Floo powder, I can sell you,” replied Zack. “But it doesn’t do any good without a fireplace attached to the floo network. Mine got cut off last week.”

“Do you know any other place here in town that has one?” asked Ron, disappointed.

Zack shook his head, and looked at Willard, who seemed to be nodding gently as if he was giving Zack a signal or something. Then the bartender bent slightly forward toward Harry and Ron to whisper, “Uhm, but I do have something, uh, better than floo powder but it costs a little more…” He showed them something that resembled a Zippo lighter, but had a dial in it if opened. Harry thought Zack was ripping them off, but was interested on what learning what the object could do.

“It’s a pocket Portkey,” continued Zack, as softly as possible amid the deafening noise of the tavern. “It’s good for three trips, very reliable. All one’s got to do is think of the spot you want to land on and roll the dial slowly twice, like a lighter. In six seconds, you’ll be whisked away to the place you’ve thought about, including anyone who might be touching any part of the body of the one operating it.”

“Wow, never heard of that,” said Ron, fascinated. “So how come you seem to be talking to us as if this was kind of a secret?” Harry stared at Ron, not believing he could be this direct. Zack didn’t mind, however.

“It’s a highly restricted gadget by the Ministry of Magic for general public use, but are issued to Unspeakables in the Department of Mysteries,” explained Zack quietly. “I designed my Portkeys to look like lighters to make it less interesting. If you click it to light a cigarette, it won’t work and anybody would think it’s just out of gas. But if you roll the dial slowly twice, you’ll be brought to where you want to be.”

“That’s perfect! So how much is it?” said Harry eagerly after he saw Willard nodding his head in assurance that the object was not bogus.

“Thirty Galleons,” said Zack almost instantly.

“Thir-th-thirty…” Ron choked. Harry’s shoulders dropped a full inch.

“But we only have four,” said Harry pleadingly, feeling the plan wasn’t possible anymore. “Can’t you lower your price for us?”

“Sorry, but that’s the going rate, I’m afraid,” said Zack, looking as if he had lost a good prospective buyer.

“Where are we supposed to find that much cash?” groaned Ron.

“That’s not my prob…” started Zack, but Willard cut him off, and he whispered something in the bartender’s ear. A sudden look of terror then drew on his face as he nodded his head, hearing what Willard had to say. “O-okay, four Galleons, it is.” Harry, not believing his luck, didn’t want Zack to change his mind and he forked out four gold ones on the bar top almost immediately. Zack hesitantly handed over the Portkey and forced a smile. “Is there something else you need?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Harry absentmindedly, examining the pocket portkey. “I have to send someone an owl right away. You have some, I believe.”

“That would cost one Knut, Homer,” said Zack, this time grumpily, still shaking his head for the money he lost tonight. Harry frantically looked for more money in his pockets, but he found out that he spent everything he had for the Portkey.

“Uh, I think I’m broke,” said Harry sheepishly. Ron snapped his head towards him.

“Sorry, no dough, no service,” said Zack, and without any further adieu he shifted his attention to his other paying customers. Seeing that they couldn’t get anything more from Zack, Willard pulled Harry and Ron off their stools and accompanied them towards the exit. “At least you got the pocket portkey for a real bargain,” said Willard when they were back walking out in the street.

“Yeah, I guess,” replied Harry. “By the way, what did you tell Zack back there, Willard? Giving us twenty six Galleons off for the Portkey was absolutely a wrench for him, no doubt.”

Willard laughed. “He owes me a lot money, to be frank. I told him I could just take over Froth’s anytime out of whim and he could do nothing about it.” Harry, after hearing this, wanted to laugh but a sudden thought made him feel ashamed.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” asked Willard gently, seeing him bite his lower lip.

“Nothing, it’s just that you’ve been very kind with me and Ron,” Harry said slowly. “We really don’t deserve everything that you have done for us, and we don’t know how to repay you…”

Willard smiled. “Like I said, it’s been great to have Harry Potter around. I know you’re in danger and I can’t just do nothing about this. If You-Know-Who got you and kills you because I looked the other way, then I could not forgive myself. I’m not doing this to get something in return, and I’m serious.”

Harry and Ron nodded. Willard turned out to be heaven sent after all. “Here, keep these, I don’t need the wands,” Harry said to Willard and he took them.

“I’ll take this as evidence for the Ministry when they come investigating,” said Willard. “I’m sure they’re still trapped in that little prison you made.”

“So, how’re we gonna write to Hermione?” Ron asked Harry.

“Well, I just hope Errol’s around the Burrow –“ thought Harry.

“Errol???” Ron blurted out. “It’ll take him ages to reach her. Pig’s back in Hogwarts, but maybe we could steal Hermes if Percy’s not home…”

“He’ll be furious!” exclaimed Harry.

“I don’t care if he kills me,” said Ron, grinning, “He can look as menacing as he wants, but I know he can’t hurt a fly.”

“I think we’ll just have to find a way when we get to the Burrow,” said Harry. “Ready?”

“Yeah, I think so,” gulped Ron.

“You don’t need to be nervous about this at all,” said Willard. “If you’ve used a Portkey before, it’ll be just the same. You just need to concentrate hard on the exact spot somewhere around the world while the timer ticks down from six seconds.”

“Uh, okay. What happens if I suddenly think of something else while waiting the six seconds?” asked Harry, his eyes getting round.

“Same as apparating, I reckon,” replied Willard, shrugging. “I heard splinching might be possible but it rarely happens. It requires force of mind, but you just need to concentrate hard.”

“You do it,” said Ron, fearing Harry would ask him to try it out. “Just think of the Burrow. How about my room? You remember what my room looks like, right?”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Harry uncertainly, trying hard to remember where the beds were and everything without ever thinking of being splinched. “I think you know your room better than me, so why don’t you…”

“No, it’s too cramped, you try the kitchen,” Ron quickly said before Harry could finish his sentence.

“Okay, the kitchen.” Harry closed his eyes and thought hard about the Weasley’s kitchen. He pictured in his mind the spot on the floor between the dining table and the kitchen counter, the walls, and other details. He didn’t want to think what if Mrs. Weasley had decided to re-arrange the furniture, but maybe he’d just land on whatever’s standing there. Satisfied, Harry opened his eyes once again. “Got it.”

“Then, this is goodbye for now,” said Willard. “Lots of luck, and take care, you two. Your friend Hermy-won, too.”

“That’s Her-my-OH-knee,” said Harry gently, smiling. “You’ll see her soon. Thanks for everything again, Willard.”

Ron gripped Harry’s shoulder tightly as Harry flipped the lighter-like object open. He thought hard about the kitchen in the Burrow once again. He then turned the dial twice slowly as instructed, trying hard not to think of anything else but “The Burrow, kitchen, the Burrow, kitchen, between the table and counter…”

The six seconds felt like six minutes as Harry resisted the urge to flash other drifting thoughts across his mind. It was very hard to do, until he felt a sharp tug, signaling that the Portkey had already started doing its job. He then lost concentration – his brain was too busy processing to adapt the body with all the motion it’s being subjected to. Ron now had both of his hands on Harry’s shoulder, positively screaming but not loud enough to be heard. Harry suddenly had horrible thoughts about being stuck in the whirlwind forever because he had lost his concentration. He didn’t know if one needed to keep thinking of his destination all the time, even while in the chaos that was ensuing from within the whirlwind, so he closed his eyes again and thought back of the kitchen at the Burrow, hoping it wasn’t too late to do so.

Then they landed hard, sprawled down on a hard wooden floor, somewhere dark, but in an increasingly familiar place. They were in the Burrow.

“Harry, you did it! It’s the kitchen!” said Ron excitedly, pulling him up from the floor. Before Harry could stand fully upright, Ron ran around the kitchen and the sitting room, calling around for his family. “Mum! Dad! Are you home? It’s me, Ron – and Harry!”

They both heard running footsteps up a few floors that seemed to run down to the stairs, and sure enough, Mrs. Weasley, a plump woman with the trademark red hair, appeared with Ginny at the last landing. They were both smiling, as if they have found a long lost relative.

“Oh, Ron, I’ve been so worried!” Mrs. Weasley cried as she ran and hugged her son very tightly. Ginny was crying with joy; it looked like they both hadn’t gotten some sleep for days.

“Aw, Mum,” said Ron as Mrs.Weasley’s enormous arms squeezed him.

“Don’t complain!” she said while pulling Harry towards her and giving him the same suffocating hug. “I thought you were dead…”

Ginny wasn’t herself, and hugged Ron and Harry after her mother, though the thought of doing this to Harry will always embarrass her in the next few months to come.

“Mum, I didn’t try to kill Dumbledore, I swear – “ said Ron. “Harry found out later…”

“I didn’t think so, too,” Mrs. Weasley said gently. “but I do need to hear the whole story. First you both need to clean yourselves up while I cook you up a late dinner, then you can talk as much as you want, dear. You still have your clothes up in your room, and Harry can borrow some of yours. Up you go, both of you.”

“I’ll help you Mum,” said Ginny quickly, keeping on wiping her tears.

Without saying a word, Harry and Ron ran up the narrow stairs towards Ron’s room. They heard Mrs. Weasley taking out some pots and pans down in the kitchen. When they were almost to the door, Ron looked back at Harry and said, “That’s unusual for Mum to be so forgiving, I thought I was done for…”

“Strikes one of your fears, Ron,” said Harry, smiling. “At least you can tell our story much easier without her breathing fire on you.”

“Yeah, but where’s everybody else? Dad, Fred and George…”

“I think we’ll ask her later…”

***

Meanwhile, Willard walked back to his hotel. He made it a point to give the police a call to arrest the three Death Eaters – trespassers - trapped in one of his hotel rooms. The barrier spell Harry had made in the window on the second floor was still functioning as he looked up from the street to check. Satisfied, he pulled out his key as he stepped on to his front door.

It wasn’t locked. He knew he was always absentminded, but he could have sworn he had locked it, but he wasn’t sure. Shrugging, he opened it and found the lobby to be empty. He went to the front desk to pull out the phone when he heard the soft ringing of his door chimes. It was Graham.

“How – how did you get out…” said Willard, backing off a few steps, but he felt a blow to his leg from behind him, and he fell to the floor. The two other wizards who came in with Graham began kicking him, and Willard howled in pain. His old bones could not take it, and he heard his rib snap.

“I believe this is mine,” said Graham lazily, reaching for his wand inside Willard’s coat, who was breathing painfully on the floor. “The spell that amateur wizard Potter subjected on the door was poorly done, and we knew you’d come back in this old hotel of yours – really, you call this a hotel?” Graham shook his head, tutting, while Willard looked up at him insolently.

“They’re already gone, Graham,” Willard said bravely. “They could be in any place around the world right now…”

“True, true, but I suppose you heard them saying where they wanted to go, haven’t you?” said Graham. “You can tell us, or we’ll stay here all night breaking every bone of your body if you call that fun.”

“What a splendid sudden change of heart,” Willard managed to say sarcastically. “I believe you told me you’d kill me if I didn’t tell you about Harry Potter just earlier this eve – OW!” He felt another stinging kick on his side.

“Foolish of you to talk that way to your guests, old man,” Graham said, laughing. “Show us your best room and we’ll have our little chat there, off we go.” It would take a few hours after sun-up until Willard finally gave in from all the torture they gave him.

***

Ron, with the help of Harry, told Mrs.Weasley everything they knew what had happened at Hogwarts and why they had to evade capture from the Ministry Wizards. Mrs. Weasley was a good listener (to Ron’s disbelief), while Ginny fought sleepiness to catch every word of the story. After that, Mrs. Weasley gave Harry and Ron an overview of what was happening in the Wizard world while they were away. The Ministry had published wanted posters offering a reward of a thousand Galleons for their capture had been pinned on the walls of every well-known wizard place. Thus, getting around casually for the two of them ran the risk of being arrested.

“Despite what’s happening, I believe you,” said Mrs. Weasley. “You need to tell your Dad your story, Ron. I hope he still has his connections in the Ministry.” She bowed her head sadly after she said that.

“Mum, how’s Dad?” Ron asked very slowly.

“Oh, he’s fine, dear, fine.”

“I know he lost his job in the Ministry because of me – “

“It’s not entirely your fault – “

“It is!” Ron shouted, slamming his clenched fist on the table, and the dishes on top of it jumped. “If I hadn’t made that practical joke on Crabbe, none of this might have happened!”

“Ron, we’ve talked about this a thousand times, right?” said Harry, feeling tired. “If you did or didn’t, Chadron could still have found something to accuse you…”

“I knew that Chadron Head Boy was no good!” said Ginny angrily. “Why don’t we just tell Dumbledore and kick him out of there?”

“He’s still out cold in the hospital, Ginny,” Harry said.

“Oh.”

“Where’s Dad, Mum?” Ron asked when he finally cooled down.

“Oh, your Dad’s out somewhere, looking for a new job,” said Mrs. Weasley sadly. “It’s been days, and no one seems to be willing to hire him because of the news reports. We’re mulling over the idea of selling the house to make ends meet…”

Ginny began to sob upon hearing this from her mother again, and buried her face in her arms. Harry could not stop feeling sorry for the Weasley’s when he heard Ginny’s muffled cry. He had vivid memories of the happy days when he lived in this house, the only place he called home aside from Hogwarts. The Burrow signified everything about the Weasley family, and he thought it would never be the same anymore if somebody else would own it. Mrs. Weasley stroked Ginny’s hair very gently and said, “Now, now, Ginny, I’m sure we’ll find a way to take this house back when we’re ready,” she said, although she then had tears streaming down on her cheeks.

“So Fred and George are asleep upstairs, Mrs. Weasley?” asked Harry, noticing that the twins had not come down.

“They left just today,” she replied, wiping her face with her hands. “Thought they’d lessen our burden by living on their own. They were talking about making good of their plans for the joke shop. Pledged all their profits for the family – I don’t know where they got their seed money. They refuse to tell me. I hope they weren’t stealing…”

“No, they can’t do that, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry confidently, not saying that he was the one who gave the thousand Galleons to the twins last year for the joke shop out of his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament.

“Yes, they’re really good boys after all, that Fred and George,” said Mrs.Weasley. “What do you plan to do next, Harry, now that you and Ron have returned home?”

Harry suddenly slapped his hand on his forehead, sliding his glasses off his nose. “Great Scott, I forgot all about Hermione!” he exclaimed. Harry explained hurriedly to Mrs.Weasley what has happened to her and what they planned to write her when they came to the Burrow.

“We’re out of owls right now, unfortunately,” said Mrs.Weasley. “Dad took Erroll with him to deliver his resumes, and Percy says he needs Hermes more than us.”

“That selfish oaf!!!” snarled Ron.

“He’s your brother, Ron,” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “It’s his owl and he’ll do what he wants with it.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that Mum! If it weren’t for you and Dad, he wouldn’t have Hermes, would he? Doesn’t he even stop to think about what’s happening to us right now?”

“I can’t tell you what he thinks about all of this without making you hate him more than ever, Ron,” warned Mrs. Weasley.

“You don’t have to, Mum, I think I do already!”

“Uh, I guess we can’t do anything about this tonight,” Harry accepted. “We’ll have to find a way to contact Hermione first thing in the morning, at least.”

“You’re right, Harry,” agreed Mrs. Weasley. “You need some rest. You can go up with Ron to his room while I clean up – no, I can do it myself, thanks.” She stood up and began collecting the dirty dishes as Ron and Harry stood up to walk up the stairs. Ginny had stopped crying, but her eyes were still full of tears.

“Wake up anytime you want,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’ll be leaving some breakfast on the table tomorrow because I’ll be out until the afternoon looking for a job to help Dad. Good night.”

“Thank you and Good night, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry, pulling a grumpy Ron. “Good night, Ginny, and thanks, too.” Ginny managed to smile amid her sobs, not knowing exactly why she was feeling a little flattered.

“I gotta fix this mess up if that’s the last thing I’ll ever do!” Ron growled as he and Harry plopped down their made-up beds.

“That’s the whole plan from the very start, right?” said Harry, hoping to calm Ron down.

“I can’t believe Percy’s still that selfish! What’s he doing now in the Ministry if he hadn’t been shunted to another department already? Making up rules about how many twigs a broomstick should have?” Harry managed to laugh at Ron’s crazy idea, recalling Percy’s pre-occupation on cauldron thickness. Silence fell between them for a few minutes while they left each other to their own thoughts.

“Do you think we’re creating trouble with the Ministry for your Dad and Mum?” Harry asked. “I mean, if the Ministry found us here, would they be guilty of aiding fugitives?”

“Honestly, I never thought about that, Harry,” said Ron, frowning. “But that’s a good point. I wouldn’t want to give my folks more trouble than I’ve already caused. Then you say we don’t have to stay here indefinitely?” Harry nodded. “Then where do you think we’ll go after this?”

Harry didn’t exactly know the answer to that. He felt they had already gone to the last familiar place he ever knew, and he didn’t even wish to consider Privet Drive.

“I’m gonna miss this place, Harry,” Ron said, tears welling in his eyes for the first time tonight. “I can’t believe this is happening to us, aside from being poor all my life.” Ron then faced Harry. “What did we do to deserve this? Please tell me Harry.”

“None,” said Harry, standing upright on his bed. “Your family is special – you’re just victims of a well planned conspiracy, I believe. I remember the letter sent to Chadron about the effect on your Dad’s career if you were blamed of trying to kill Dumbledore. It all seems to be working. Now who do you think has got a real grudge with your Dad?”

“I’m not sure,” Ron said slowly. “With his line of work, Dad can make lots of enemies. But…I’m willing to bet it’s Malfoy!”

“Uh-huh, but we don’t have proof of that yet, so we’ll make it a point to find out.”

“I hope it’s him, and we could return the favor,” Ron said determinedly. “Harry, it’s amazing, though. They seem to have made a lot of damage with just a single plan. Dumbledore’s almost dead, McGonagall, too. Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts is severely weakened. Dad’s out of the Ministry and my family’s a wreck. I’m a branded criminal, and you’re out of Hogwarts – out of the relative safety of the school, a perfect opportunity for You-Know-Who to get you.”

“Yeah, nice thinking, Ron,” Harry said. “It’d probably be the end of the wizarding world as we know it if You-Know-Who gets what he wants. Do you think reporting Chadron would make any more good after all what’s happening?”

“It’s a start, I guess,” Ron thought deeply. “The Ministry might act favorably for us when they find something new about that moron. The problem is, the Ministry is against us this time. I hope it would change soon.”

“Then we must get all the proof to the Ministry as soon as possible, do you reckon?”

“Like we talked about back in Willard’s. Whatever it takes,” Ron said, gritting his teeth.

“Then it’s imperative we contact Hermione soon,” declared Harry. “She has the note, and we could bring it to Olga in the Ministry. First we need to find out where the Ministry is.”

“Okay, but don’t forget the wanted posters stuck everywhere. I think we better get some sleep, Harry. We’ll start laying out our plans tomorrow over breakfast. Arrghh. If only Percy let us use Hermes we could cut the time to contact Hermione…”

They both didn’t talk further after that. It was already past three in the morning. Although they felt tired from all the action tonight, anxiety ruled over them as they laid down on bed deep in their own individual thoughts. The possibility of being found by either Ministry wizards and Death Eaters while asleep in the Burrow was very high, making it very difficult for them to find their much needed rest. So this is how it felt when one lived dangerously, like Sirius, Harry thought.

13. Hermione

Chapter 12

“Hermione’s Fight for the Sneakoscope”

The sun had already risen, and Hermione came out of her room, yawning and stretching towards the sitting room. Despite having to wake up almost every hour checking if she was still safe in the Granger’s house, she reckoned she already had enough sleep to last her for the long day ahead. During around midnight, she almost believed that she had fallen to the Death Eaters and was brought to Voldemort, whose face she had not seen, because of an almost too real dream. All this escape and evasion business might be having a real toll on her, she thought.

The string she had tied across the fireplace had not been disturbed and the burglar alarms hadn’t been tripped off, too. There was no sign of any attempt of a break-in last night, much to her relief. That meant the Death Eaters had no idea where she had gone last night – at least that would give her more time to prepare for her little quest.

Hermione fixed herself a quick breakfast after washing her face at the kitchen sink. There was no bread for her parents had not bought any because of their trip, so she settled to fix herself some instant hotcakes with liberal squirts of maple syrup, with a glass of orange juice. After cleaning up and wrapping some leftover hotcakes in a paper towel just in case she got hungry, she got out of the house to begin her trip to London. Lucky her family had moved to Hertfordshire just a year before, because it meant she could be in London in just over an hour and she knew the transit system in that city to get to the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. The only problem is, she remembered, is that she never had gone to London without being brought by her parents there using the family car that was presently parked in the driveway. She didn’t know how to get there now. Hermione was not a spoiled kid, except that her parents were a tad overprotective of her regarding how she was brought from place to place ever since. Going around the city was just as simple as remembering her travels with her mother. If only she could ask someone to bring her to London now and she was confident could take it from there without any help.

Her little problem had been solved as soon as she had slung her backpack over her thick coat and exited the front door. It was a chilly morning; only a few people were out today. Her neighbor, Mister and Mrs. Cook were getting their car ready for work and they spotted Hermione walking along the sidewalk crossing their front yard. Both the Cooks were nearing sixty, childless, but were very good neighbors with the Grangers. They waved at Hermione and she waved back.

“Good morning, Hermione,” called Mrs. Cook happily.

“Good morning, Mister and Mrs. Cook,” she greeted back, smiling, and slowing down a little.

“It’s kind of unusual seeing you around the neighborhood this time of year,” mused Mrs. Cook as her husband was finishing heating up the car. “Is there any problem at school?”

“Yeah,” said Hermione, knowing that she wasn’t lying at all (there was really a big problem back at Hogwarts, her school), but she had to be careful all the same not to mention the name and hoped that Mrs. Cook wouldn’t ask where she studied. “Not that I’ve been expelled or something. I just need to go to London to take care of things, but…”

“Yes?”

“Uh, I don’t know how to get there…” Hermione said, embarrassed.

“Why, it’s quite simple, Hermione,” said Mrs. Cook jovially. “Just follow that road over there and…”

“Sweetums,” Mr. Cook interrupted, getting out of the car. “It would just be simple and helpful if we offered Hermione a ride. We work in London, remember?” He shook his head, laughing.

“Oh, of course,” Mrs. Cook said, slapping her forehead gently. “Come along, dear, we’re getting ready to go there for work. We’ll drop you off where it’s nearest to where you’re going.”

“Thanks! That would be great,” said Hermione happily, walking briskly and got in the car. They started traveling after a couple of minutes of waiting for Mr. Cook to be satisfied with the engine heat.

“Do your parents know you’re home, Hermione?” asked Mrs. Cook. “They left us the house key while they’re away in Paris.”

“They don’t,” replied Hermione from the back seat, just behind her. “Everything’s so unexpected that I had no time to tell them, but I left a note saying I’d been home for a while, please don’t worry about it, Mrs. Cook. I’ve done this before.”

“Where do you go again, dear?” asked Mrs. Cook interestedly, now gazing at Hermione from the front seat. This is what was Hermione was afraid about. She hated to lie more than what was necessary, but she hoped whatever name she gave would be as obscure as any name of school found in Britain, even “St. Hogwarts Academy, Mrs. Cook.”

“Oh, never heard of such school, is it near here?”

“Somewhere far away, Mrs. Cook,” said Hermione.

“”Well, wherever you go I hope they teach good science,” Mrs. Cook said, smiling, and Hermione smiled back real quickly.

“This talk of schools remind me what I read in the paper this morning about some students being sought by police,” Mr. Cook said while driving along the road flanked by rich green grass hills. “Somewhere in Scotland this time. I didn’t get the name of the school but two pupils had tried to murder the Headmaster. It’s just appalling.”

“You read the Sun too much, Richard,” Mrs. Cook told her husband absentmindedly. “You better try to read real newspapers…”

“I know,” Mr. Cook said airily. “But it’s much more interesting.”

Hermione suspected the Sun might have been reporting about Harry and Ron. Some wizard reporters were assigned as correspondents in Muggle tabloids, writing occasionally about witches and other oddities to make each story laughable and less believable to plain Muggles. But still, there are readers who still just don’t get it.

“You know what’s funny about the report?” added Mr. Cook. “It said that some kind of reward is being offered to any info about the boys’ whereabouts, about a thousand ‘Galleons’ instead of Pound Sterling. Some typo made by the reporter, I reckon. Everybody might have the impression they’re giving away a flotilla or something…I’m sure they all couldn’t park in a backyard swimming pool. Ha! I gotta remember that joke when I’d see my friends over Gin Rummy…”

Hermione forced a laugh, thinking that these wizard reporters would someday give away the wizarding world if they weren’t too careful, but more importantly both Harry and Ron have got lots on their hands now that the Ministry has put up a reward for their arrest. If she didn’t bring the evidence to the Ministry soon, her friends would be in big trouble. Still, she remembered that the Ministry had failed for years trying to find Sirius, but she didn’t want to count on that for Harry and Ron – they’ve just been running away for days. Of course, she also didn’t want them to keep hiding longer than what is necessary.

They were mostly silent for rest of the car trip, aside from side chats about the weather and stuff. Hermione was glad the path Mr. Cook took towards their workplace was just along the way to where she wanted to go foremost: The Leaky Cauldron. The Cooks dropped her off just a few yards away from the pub, which the couple didn’t see as they were supposed to.

“Thanks for the lift, Mister and Mrs. Cook,” said Hermione, looking at them from the sidewalk.

“You’re welcome, Hermione,” said Mrs. Cook from the car. “Are you sure you know how to go home? I’m not feeling very well leaving you in London all by yourself – your parents might get angry with us…”

“Oh, yes, I know how to get home, Mrs. Cook,” Hermione replied, doing her best to act sure. “But I’d be going back to school right after this, please don’t worry about me,” Then they all waved again at each other, smiling. Hermione then went inside the Leaky Cauldron, where it was unusually empty aside from a couple of goblins drinking whiskey at a table, and a middle-aged wizard with a tankard sitting at a chair at the farthest wall near the back door. Tom the innkeeper looked at Hermione, who was wearing Muggle clothing, after he felt the bell clinking.

“I’m a student witch, Tom,” said Hermione gently, knowing that he might have suspected her as a stray Muggle who had stumbled in the Leaky Cauldron. He looked like he was reaching for his wand to subject her to a memory charm.

“Oh, of course, you are,” Tom said happily, bearing his yellow teeth. “Uhm, it’s too late for shopping around Diagon Alley this time of year, is it?”

“Yeah, I know,” said Hermione, approaching him. “But I need to know where I can find the Ministry of Magic as soon as possible. Do you know where it is?”

“Oh, what about?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you yet, not that I don’t trust you,” Hermione said quietly as she approached Tom to the counter. “But it’s a matter of life and death, and the sooner I get there the better...”

“Ah, I see,” said Tom, not pushing the subject, and still smiling. “Good thing the Ministry keeps an office around here, a couple of blocks from Diagon Alley just past Gringotts. It has a big sign, you can’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Tom,” said Hermione. She slid off her stool and headed towards the back of the Leaky Cauldron. She heard Tom grumble, “Oh, no, another non-paying customer…” She wondered why Tom would have thought her as such because she was only asking for directions. However she only cared of getting to the Ministry of Magic, being almost there to care. She didn’t have to take out her wand because the brick wall, the entrance to Diagon Alley, was already open. Someone might have forgotten to close it.

The feeling of seeing Diagon Alley via the brick wall was always exciting for Hermione. She never really understood why she always had the urge to splurge at this place each time she got through the entrance. The shopping activity of other wizards and witches presently in Diagon Alley was very contagious. An hour of window-shopping before going to the Ministry Magic maybe won’t hurt, she thought, but she shook it off. Still, the mood was festive that she couldn’t stop smiling.

She walked the length of the alley, going through the thick and slow-moving crowd, until she reached a fork that Gringott’s bank had created. She then saw something that made her heart sink. Along the alley, people were examining newly posted wanted posters of Harry and Ron, complete with moving pictures of the both of them.

“It’s quite a shame, really,” said an old wizard to a witch beside him, who was equally interested with the poster. “The boy who we thought could do marvelous things after repulsing You-Know-Who by graduating at Hogwarts has a troubled mind after all.”

“Right you are,” said the witch back. “We never thought one of Arthur’s sons could do such a hideous thing. Since Ronald Weasley is just a student, he could be a potential dark wizard, in my opinion. Only their kind could think of killing someone as formidable as Dumbledore. From what I hear, he would never recover from the attack.”

“And that Head Boy – what’s his name?”

“Chadron, I think,” said the witch, after looking around for the name in her head. “Yeah, the Daily Prophet said he single-handedly thwarted a plan by Death Eaters to take over Hogwarts after Dumbledore was put down by that curse. A hero, that boy.”

Hermione almost screamed in disgust after hearing that. She was the only one among the crowd who knew the whole truth about Jack Chadron, but these were the wrong people to argue with. She inhaled lots of air, held her breath, and walked off red-faced past Gringotts. “You’ve had your fifteen minutes of fame, Chadron,” she said under her breath. It was probably good that Jack Chadron was being portrayed as the hero for a while, because once everyone knew what he truly was, he’d never want to face anyone for as long as he lived.

Hermione found a small but very visible sign that read “Ministry of Magic Detachment Office, 200 meters” which pointed to the left. She followed it, gradually calming down as she progressed. Soon, she was at the end of the alley, which seemed to have less shops but more two-story buildings that housed other Ministry of Magic offices like the Improper Use of Magic Office and so on. There also was a jailhouse where, at the moment, two Ministry wizards were dragging a defiant wizard who seemed to have done something wrong. Right next to it was the Ministry of Magic main office where Hermione surmised was the right place to tell her story and present the evidence.

She entered the door very slowly. The Ministry lobby had a strange ambience to it, like it was subjecting a strong sense of authority to anyone who was under its roof. Hermione felt she didn’t dare do something stupid, as if some Ministry Wizards would just pop right in beside her and arrest her for whistling. This didn’t help her with the nervousness she felt, and the fear of failing to get what she came for.

No one seemed to have noticed her. The lobby was pretty busy, with many wizards and witches going about their business. There was a lone stern-looking wizard who manned the reception desk, which was elevated a few inches above the floor like a judge’s table. On top of the desk was a gold nameplate, the name of Donald Driepwet engraved on it. There were a couple of witches who were talking to him at the moment, and Hermione approached the desk and got behind them. Soon, the witches walked away from the desk and Hermione was left alone facing the wizard, who looked down at her.

“State your business, please,” said Donald suddenly to Hermione, who jumped.

“Uh, good morning, sir,” said Hermione a little timidly. “I don’t know who to look for, but I have something with me that may help clear somebody of a crime he didn’t commit.”

“I see,” Donald said seriously. “And what do you have, miss…?”

“Granger. Hermione Granger, sir.”

“Ah, yes, Miss Granger,” he said, his eyes lighting up and forgetting about what Hermione had to show. “Don’t you know you’re wanted for questioning, do you, miss?”

“Actually, sir, I’m not aware of that, but I’m not afraid of being held for investigation because I have with me the truth,” Hermione replied, raising her chin slightly with dignity.

Donald nodded and smiled broadly. “Okay, we’ll see about that later, then, Miss Granger. I’ll call on someone to hear your story as soon as possible. I have to ask you to go with a Ministry Wizard who’ll bring you to the interrogation room right now, and stay there until an investigator starts asking you some questions. Thanks for coming forward – that’s very brave of you.”

Hermione nodded with confidence.

“Gilbert!” Donald said to a wizard who was writing his report a few tables away. “Could you please escort Miss Granger here to the ‘square’ room.” Gilbert nodded obediently and went to Hermione to usher her deeper inside the Ministry building.

After walking through a large office space with dozens of tables with busy wizards and witches behind them, Hermione entered a windowless square room (that seemed to be near to the back of the building) in one of the couple chairs around a small table. The walls were colored blue-gray which was too gloomy for her taste.

“Miss Granger, please wait here until someone comes in to talk to you,” said Gilbert very gently. “I’ll be just out by the door.”

“Okay, thanks,” said Hermione, smiling a little.

It was silent inside; she could hear her heart pounding louder and louder in anticipation for what she had come here for: to present the most crucial proof of Ron’s innocence. She felt safe now because she knew she was in the Ministry of Magic. “Just a few minutes longer, Harry and Ron, and you’ll be vindicated.”

Just a minute later the door then opened slowly in front of her, and she straightened up. A lone wizard in his late forties went in with an assuring smile drawn on his face, helping her calm down a little.

“You must be Miss Hermione Granger,” he said, closing the door gently behind him. “We’ve been looking all over for you, not that we want to arrest you…”

“Yeah, I’m so glad I was able to get to this office before the Death Eaters could find me,” said Hermione eagerly.

“My name is Jedd Wright and I’m Senior Investigator here in the Ministry of Magic,” the wizard said. “We’ve been quite worried about you, as a matter of fact, because we thought we wouldn’t have been able to find you before the other camp did. I’ve got a hunch that the perpetrator of the crime is still roaming freely around Hogwarts and that your friends have been wrongly accused. I’m quite sure that the prime suspect should be…”

“Jack Chadron?” Hermione suggested very quickly.

“Yes, yes, that’s quite correct. However I don’t even have with me a shred of evidence to support my suspicions,” Jedd sighed.

“I have something. It’s a smoking gun,” said Hermione.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, sorry, that’s Muggle talk for incriminating evidence.”

“Oh, of course,” Jedd nodded. “But I’m afraid this is not the right place to show us your proof yet, Miss Granger. Cornelius Fudge had specifically instructed us to bring anyone to him who’d shed light on this mystery. He has expressed great interest in this case because it has affected his good friend Albus Dumbledore.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” Hermione said, feeling happy that she’d show her proof to none other than the Minister of Magic.

“Come, allow me bring you to him right now.”

“Okay, thanks.” Hermione stood up and followed Jedd out of the room and into the hall. They met a few people who didn’t seem to have any interest on Hermione. Along the way, Jedd called two more wizards who went with him and Hermione without any word. Bodyguards, probably, Hermione thought. Jedd walked abreast with her while the other two wizards brought up the front and the rear.

“The Minister’s office is located where you’d least expect it to be, Miss Granger,” said Jedd, laughing a little as he opened the door that led outdoors to a fully landscaped courtyard.

“Oh, I noticed,” said Hermione looking around while keeping on walking. “I always thought his office would be up the highest floor…”

“Yes, that’s what people seem to think all the time,” Jedd replied, winking. “It’s for security purposes, you see. Too obvious.” They kept walking until they were farther off the Ministry building to another alley were there were less people. This made Hermione feel very uneasy.

“Uh, his office is oddly farther than he’d wanted it to be, isn’t it?” she said as they crossed a little park.

“That’s right,” said Jedd, who didn’t look back at her. “But don’t worry, we’re almost there. Are you sure you have your Sneakoscope with you? It’d be a shame if you’ve already gone in front of him and find that you don’t have it…”

“Oh, yeah, it’s here,” said Hermione, starting to take it out of her backpack that she had slung on her left shoulder as she kept walking.

Then her heart stopped.

She realized she had not told anyone about the Sneakoscope yet, except for Harry and Ron thru owl post, and it was almost impossible to intercept letters carried by owls. Additionally, she was pretty sure that she hadn’t told Dean and Neville directly about the Sneakoscope. Only Jack Chadron had seen it work aside from her, and it was highly suspicious that these men had known about it unless he was the one who could have told them she had it. She was willing to bet all she had that these “Ministry Wizards” were not they were ought to be but were Death Eaters who had probably infiltrated the Ministry of Magic. They might be working for Chadron or whoever was also behind this. This made her look like she was paranoid, but if she didn’t do anything at all and allowed herself to be caught in this highly possible trap, then she lost her only chance to do something for Harry and Ron. If they’ll turn out to be the opposite, she didn’t know, but she thought that maybe she’ll just say “Oops, sorry.” Then she decided on what to do. She closed her eyes and…

BANG!

Instead of feeling for the Sneakoscope inside her backpack, Hermione had taken out her wand. Jedd was screaming as he covered his eyes and cursed loudly, shouting “Arrghhh! Get her! She mustn’t get that Sneakoscope to the Aurors!” The other wizard behind her was also rubbing his eyes, while the one in front had become confused after hitting the dirt.

Hermione took advantage of the situation and started to run back towards the general direction of the Ministry of Magic, going around the trees that stood in the park. Some people were already running away from the ruckus. The wizard in front regained his senses and pointed his wand at the fleeing Hermione and shouted “Impedimenta!”

It was lucky for Hermione that she had gone past a thick tree that covered her from the wizard’s line of fire just in time. The spell bounced off the trunk and flew harmlessly to the sky. She panted, pinning her back against the trunk and peered around it, seeing that Jedd and the other wizard were beginning to recover their eyesight and started to go toward her direction. She thought she could still hold them off without using magic, but she didn’t care enough about getting any letter from the Improper Use of Magic anymore. This was an emergency.

She pointed her wand at one of the three Death Eaters, who was now advancing towards her just a few yards away, and bellowed, “Petrificus Totalus!” A rope-like beam rushed out of her wand and hit the Death Eater square on his chest, totally freezing him and he fell like a heavy log to the ground. Hermione managed to repeat the spell on Jedd, but he had quicker reflexes and muttered “Nimble Wimble!” as the beam hit him, effectively reversing Hermione’s spell, making it useless.

“Expelliarmus!” Jedd yelled before Hermione could do another full body bind, and she was thrown back away from the tree trunk and landed painfully on the pavement. She grimaced, not because of her bruises, but for her wand that had flown away towards Jedd, who caught it. Hermione was now unarmed.

“Oh, no, my wand!” she said, regretting furiously for being caught off guard like that. She sat up and she saw Jedd sneering triumphantly just thirty feet away re-aiming his wand at her. If she didn’t move quickly enough the game would be over, she thought.

She bravely got on her feet pretty fast and ran away as fast as she could. She could hear Jedd muttering curses from behind her, but luckily his aim wasn’t that great. The curses just overtook her, and she could feel the heat whizzing past her ear. She used the trees in the park as cover very skillfully going from one to the other, occasionally looking back to see where her pursuers were; they were dangerously closing the gap pretty quickly.

She saw the rear façade Ministry Building about a hundred feet ahead of her. “Just a little more!” she said to herself, but dropped her breath when the wizard she saw earlier in the Leaky Cauldron was standing halfway between her and the Ministry of Magic. He was smirking in an evil sort of way at her and yelled, “Give it up, girl! Your side doesn’t have a chance against the Dark Lord.” Hermione knew he could have been one who tipped Jedd Wright about her early on, and what he said had confirmed her suspicions that these guys were indeed Voldemort’s Death Eaters.

Hermione didn’t have a choice but to look for another way to get to the Ministry, even if it meant doubling the distance – she had to get to the real Aurors. She turned right, ran, and entered an adjacent alley that seemed to be leading farther away from the Ministry building, but this was the only route that the Death Eaters hadn’t covered, so she took it, hearing them cursing behind her.

“Gangway!” she hollered as she sliced through the shopping crowd. Witches were screaming as Jedd and his henchmen forcefully bullied their way through. There were some flashes and some people fell on the ground, sending everyone into panic.

Hermione had reached a fork on the alley. Under pressure of the pursuing Death Eaters, she hastily searched for her bearings and reckoned that going left would take her nearer the Ministry building. Without wasting any more time, she ran again following the path she took. The crowd seemed to have helped her a little, because the Death Eaters were still fighting through the crowd. The way she took was narrower and darker than Diagon Alley, and there were some stray cauldrons on the ground hastily dropped by alarmed shoppers. She tripped on one, sending her rolling down the cobbled road. Hermione struggled to regain her footing, and lost her sense of direction. Groaning, and feeling dizzy, she stood up and looked around. The area around her seemed to be swaying; she turned on the next bend that she thought led to another alley, but it wasn’t. It was just a dark gap – a niche between two shops with some old boxes and an iron grille – a dead end.

She heard running footsteps getting nearer and she sunk herself deeper in the gap, fighting dizziness while sliding herself behind the boxes, hoping that the darkness would be enough to conceal her. A few seconds went by and she caught a glimpse of the Death Eaters go past her position – they didn’t see her and they kept on running along the alley, looking blindly around for her. Hermione then thought she only needed a couple of minutes more or so before re-emerging and then she could double back towards the Ministry of Magic, relatively safer now. She could look for Donald Driepwet again who she thought wasn’t a Death Eater and ask for his help.

As Hermione thought about that, she then began to worry what Donald Driepwet or anyone from the Ministry would think of her by running away. Jedd could just return there and tell everyone she took flight out of guilt, and that would make her task much more difficult than it was before. Still, she could just turn on the Sneakoscope in front of everybody then and that will shut everyone up for sure. The only thing that mattered most at the moment was to avoid Jedd and the Death Eaters as much as possible.

Hermione had regained her normal breathing, and hoping that the Death Eaters had lost her this time, she started to get out of her hiding place. She looked left and right through the alley, making sure it was safe. It looked devoid of people already, who had earlier scampered out for safety. Seeing nobody else around, she walked briskly, moving ever so silently as if anybody could hear her footsteps, and doubled back to where she came from. This seemed to be right thing to do for her, because she thought the Death Eaters would never think she’d go this way all over again. But when Hermione turned the next corner, she screamed.

Jedd Wright grabbed her arm and pulled her painfully back to the dark gap from where she hid. Hermione fought hard to break free from his grasp, but he was just too strong.

“Take your hands off me!” said Hermione fiercely. “Help! This man’s a lunatic!” she pleaded with a shopkeeper who got out of his store to see what was happening.

“Oy! You!” the shopkeeper called Jedd. “What are you doing to that girl…”

“Get lost!” growled Jedd, pointing his wand at the shopkeeper while holding Hermione’s arm with the other. “Stupefy!”

“Nooo!” Hermione screamed as the shopkeeper fell down on the ground. Other people who were inching their way towards her and Jedd disappeared again from sight in fear of being stunned.

“Give me the Sneakoscope, Miss!” Jedd said to Hermione menacingly, now grabbing her backpack. She fought to hold on to it as long as she can, but she lost her grasp when Jedd pushed her aside, banging her hard on the iron grilles. Hermione felt intense pain in her back that prevented her from standing up again. All she could do now was look up on the towering Death Eater standing in front of her, shredding her backpack in search for the Sneakoscope. A few moments later, Jedd whooped in triumph as he held the object tightly on his hand.

“What do you want with that?” said Hermione shrilly. “Someone’s being prosecuted for a crime he didn’t commit, and this is the only thing that could save him! Don’t you see?”

“I know,” Jedd said, smirking. “But I’ve been sent to stop you from bringing this to the Ministry. We always knew you’d show up in this part of town. How foolish and predictable of you.”

“Who sent you? Why?”

But Jedd wasn’t paying attention to Hermione. Flushed with his success, he didn’t know that he was thinking out loud. “Ha, Lucius will be so happy to have this…”

Hermione’s mouth hung open. She heard the name. Then Lucius was probably the mastermind of the conspiracy, she thought. Everything seems to fit – his hatred with Dumbledore and Ron’s father, and the years of talk that he might be supporting Jack Chadron’s studies at Hogwarts for whatever reason. Most of all, he’d do anything to keep his name from getting involved with the whole affair. The Sneakoscope revealed too much of Chadron’s hand on the crime. Throwing in the instruction note, he’d be absolutely disgraced. This was too good a thing to pass up, and Hermione’s determination to bring the Sneakoscope fired up again. Seeing that Jedd was still preoccupied with the object in his hands she stood up, fighting the pain on her back, and kicked Jedd on the groin.

“Arrrghhh!” Jedd said painfully, dropping the Sneakscope, which rolled off towards Hermione. Scooping it off the ground, she bravely limped to go past Jedd and out of the dark niche. But before she could get out clear of it, at least three new wizards appeared from nowhere and had blocked her only way out. Hermione didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t have a chance to think because she felt Jedd’s other hand grabbing the back of her coat, pulling her inward the niche again. She then heard one of the wizards in front of her say “It’s them!” before feeling the effects of a stunning spell rob her of all consciousness.

14. Ginny

Chapter 13

“Ginny’s Blunder”

No amount of worry about the possibility of being caught anytime while sleeping could awaken Harry and Ron the next morning. They had both agreed to be up by around seven no matter how tired they were, but Ron’s alarm clock had already quit buzzing three hours ago. Harry groggily turned his head to see what time it was, and he sat up with a snap when he realized they had overslept. “Ron! Ron! Wake up!” he said, grabbing Ron’s blanket and shaking him.

“Wha – What?” Ron mumbled, his head emerging from under his pillow.

“It’s ten in the morning and we’re supposed to send an owl to Hermione hours ago!”

“Uhum,” said Ron, closing his eyes again, hoping to snatch up a few more minutes of shut-eye. “So, it’s just three hours – it barely makes a difference. Five more minutes won’t probably hurt...”

“We gotta get up now,” Harry persisted, and pulling Ron up by his pajamas.

“Okay – okay, I’m up,” Ron said grumpily. “But if Errol isn’t back from wherever, I don’t know where we could find another owl to use…”

“I’ll go to the bathroom first,” Harry said ignoring Ron and scooping up some of his clothes.

“Good idea, Harry. I’ll just wait here until you’re finished.” When Harry went out of the room to fix himself up, Ron didn’t wait another split second and threw himself back again on his bed, snoring instantly. Harry had finished with his morning ritual within five minutes and he shook his head when he saw Ron where he was.

“Ron, enough sleeping! We gotta get a move on!” Harry said impatiently, now pulling Ron off the bed by his feet.

“All right! All right!” said Ron, raising his hands, finally standing up and rubbing his eyes. “Go downstairs and I’ll be there in a moment…” He ended his sentence with something undecipherable.

“Okay, I’ll be down in the kitchen, and don’t even think of going back to bed…” Harry ran down the stairs to the ground floor expecting Mrs.Weasley to be there, and he felt a little embarrassed of waking up very late in the morning. However, it seemed that only Ginny was at home then. “Hi, Ginny, good morning!” he said happily.

“Good, you’re up,” Ginny said coolly, looking at Harry without smiling. She was sitting down behind the dining table writing on a diary. “If you weren’t snoring too loudly, I thought you were dead.”

“Sorry,” said Harry, his smile fading. He wondered why Ginny had suddenly turned cold at him unlike last night. “Uh, where’s your mum?”

“She went out. Job interview. She cooked you up some eggs and bacon this morning. Eat.”

Harry slowly pulled a chair from the table and sat down, examining the food that had turned cold. “Sounds like you’re upset or something, Ginny,” he said quietly.

“Sorry,” said Ginny quietly, rolling her eyes. “I didn’t mean to talk to you that way. I’ve never been myself lately…”

“No, that’s okay,” said Harry quickly. “I know how tough it is for you and everyone about what’s happening.”

“Very tough, all right.” Ginny shut her diary gently and hesitated for a moment before starting what she had wanted to say to Harry. “Harry?”

“Yeah?” he said, dipping his toast on egg yolk.

“I just want to thank you for what you’re doing for Ron – I know it was a hard decision to make to run out of Hogwarts like that…”

“Actually, it was easy. He’s my best friend,” Harry said, smiling.

Ginny smiled back. “Well, you see, he’s my brother and I love him and such…”

“Yes, I know you do…”

Ginny hesitated again. After a few long seconds of fighting herself, she spoke up rather fast. “I’ve known you for a long time, Harry. Though I’ve never been close to you as Hermione had been – well she had been your best friend from first year, I know – but I’ve always wanted to be part of your circle. I’ve been looking closely at your adventures and misadventures, and, and I want to be part of it.”

“Ginny…” Harry started.

“I want to help you,” Ginny interrupted very quickly before Harry could say anything further. “I want to go with you and be like Hermione for a while because I can see she isn’t with you this time...and I know a lot of spells, really…”

“Ginny,” Harry said again, this time very slowly, and trying not to sound annoyed. “Please don’t be mad at me for saying this – it’d be better if you’d stay away from our troubles because, mainly, I don’t want to put you in any danger at all. Not that you’d be a problem with you around helping. I know you’re capable for everything and such, but to tell you the truth, Hermione, Ron, and I don’t really like it when everything seems to happen to the three of us. Your mother needs you, and well, you can help us a lot by taking care of your mum. You see, I also don’t want anything bad to happen to her, because she’s like my mother, too…”

Ginny looked away, with a heavy look of disappointment drawn on her face. “I know you don’t want me…ever since.”

“Please, no, you don’t understand. That’s not what I’ve meant to say…it’s…it’s just…”

“I do well understand what you’re trying to tell me,” said Ginny, her voice rising. “I’m not stupid, you know! Ron’s little ickle sister – can’t be near as good as Hermione Granger! She’s the best for you and I’m second fiddle. I can’t take more of this…I’m off! But first - ”

Ginny stood up forcefully and pulled out a wand from her pocket. Harry jerked back, sending his chair crashing on the floor, and he backed to the wall. “Ginny…what?” Harry said nervously, hoping she didn’t have to prove anything by cursing him.

“It’s your wand,” Ginny said calmly. “You left it in the kitchen last night. I knew it was yours and it was dirty, so I cleaned and polished it for you. Don’t thank me for it because I know what I do is nothing to you.” She did a spell using Harry’s wand out of anger and hurt, spitting out a humongous black widow that filled the whole living room.

Ron had appeared at the foot of the stairs. He let out a high-pitched scream like his voice hadn’t been broken yet. Harry’s hair literally stood on end as the huge spider clicked its pincers menacingly at him. Ginny had already left, still feeling angry with Harry but pleased that she had scared him out of his wits, and threw the wand on the floor. Luckily, the wand had rolled to Harry’s feet, and he picked it up just in time to reverse the spell before the spider could pounce. “Finite Incantatem!” he bellowed, and the spider disappeared with a pop. Harry was shaking from head to foot, but he knew whom Ginny had scared the most because he found Ron lying flat on the stair landing on the brink of losing consciousness. Ron was the equivalent of a bottle of milk with shoes on, and Harry could not believe Ron could get paler than he normally was right now.

“Ron! You okay?” Harry said, patting Ron’s face.

“Uuuhhhh…Uhhhhh…S-Spide- S-Spider…” he sputtered.

“It’s okay, Ron! It’s gone,” said Harry, and he looked back out the window, seeing Ginny keeping on walking away from the house with her hands still clenched, disappearing through a grove of trees behind the barn. He sighed, wondering if it was a good idea to go after her. Harry eventually decided to stay with Ron because he thought it would be better if he’d talk to Ginny some other time when she had cooled down. All what was happening had given everybody he knew lots of stress, and Ginny, who seemingly had managed for years to be patient with Harry’s less than desired attention to her, had finally snapped.

It took a good five minutes for Ron’s face to return to its normal shade of white. “Where’s everybody?” he said with a raspy voice.

Harry told him where his mum was and what had happened between him and Ginny. “I don’t understand – she was okay when we saw her last night, but now – but now she’s mad at me,” Harry concluded, feeling bad inside for her.

“She’ll get over it,” said Ron, getting on his feet slowly. “She can be erratic sometimes, but her being jealous with Hermione is news to me. I gotta have a talk with her, too, some time - Ginny. That spider trick was not funny. She knows very well you’re not that afraid with spiders. Not like me…”

“Who says?” said Harry, shuddering. “I think I’d never want to see a spider that big for the rest of me life – reminds me of that close call we had in the Forbidden Forest years ago.”

Ron laughed. “So what’s for breakfast?” he said expectantly, taking a chair at the dining table. They both ate their breakfast a little leisurely to Ron’s quiet relief. Harry seemed to have faraway thoughts the whole time; his breakfast had hardly diminished.

Ron suddenly turned sour. “If it’s Hermione you’re thinking,” he said, looking sideways at Harry, “she’s probably comfortable back in Hogwarts. Ginny, I reckon she’s out at her usual lonely place by the river throwing little stones.”

“Everything’s been so crazy lately,” Harry said, pushing his plate away. “I don’t want this to go on indefinitely. And Ron, Hermione’s probably worried sick about us as we speak.”

“For you maybe, but not for me,” Ron said, snorting.

“Ron, how can you say that?” said Harry, surprised at Ron’s statement. “She’s your best friend, too, right?”

“Supposedly, but she seems to have less interest in me than you…”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Harry said to himself weakly. “Two Weasleys jealous of me about Hermione.” He sunk his face in both of his hands. Ron didn’t say another word.

“Ron, whatever it is you and Ginny are being insecure about Hermione, it’s not the right time to talk about, okay?” Harry added irritably. “We need to think of something to get us out of this mess. I know for a fact Hermione is doing what she can to help us – especially you who’s been affected the most.” There was a long quiet moment between Harry and Ron as they looked down on the table, because both of them didn’t want to say something further.

“Harry, I’m sorry if I brought that up,” Ron conceded with much hesitation just to break the ice. “I know I was being so insensitive and that I seem to be apathetic to our plight sometimes…”

“No, let’s forget it. Sorry for snapping up like that, too, Ron.”

“I don’t blame you,” Ron said, fighting hard to smile. “I guess you’re right, everything’s been too hard for us lately, and I’d just be adding up to the problem if kept on blabbing about Hermione. I’ll have a talk with her soon, though. But with Ginny, I think it would be better if you talked to her before we move on out.”

Harry nodded, but he brushed that point aside for the moment to take care of more pressing matters. “Let’s start writing a letter to Hermione – we’ve wasted so much time…” Harry said, standing up to look for a piece of parchment. When he had gone to the living room, through the window he caught a glimpse of something appearing out of thin air outside, about a couple of hundred meters away from the house. He went nearer to the window to get a better look, and that had caught Ron’s attention.

“Harry, what is it?”

“Ron! Come here and take a look at this – just beside the barn! I think somebody had just apparrated…”

“Huh?” Ron strode to Harry’s side quickly, and peered out. Two more had apparrated at both sides of the first one. Another one appeared, and after grouping themselves, they had started walking towards the house.

“You know them?” asked Harry.

“I think I do, Harry,” said Ron, beginning to sound scared again. “It looks like Graham the Death Eater to me again. Please tell me I’m hallucinating!”

Harry didn’t want to believe that, but one of the approaching people indeed looked like Graham. If it really was him, he could have gotten away from Willard.

“How’d they know where to find us?” Ron asked.

“I bet the Improper Use of Magic Office detected Ginny’s spell using my wand,” said Harry thoughtfully, “and Graham used that to get to us, I expect…I think that’s he’s trade secret…”

“Can we take them on?” said Ron. “I don’t have a wand with me.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Harry, pulling Ron away from the window. “It’s too risky – we got to get out of here,Ron! We must warn Ginny…”

“Harry, I think as long as we won’t drag Ginny along with us she’s perfectly safe in her secret place,” Ron said earnestly, and Harry nodded.

“Okay.” They both ran to the kitchen where the backdoor was located. They screeched to a halt when they sighted a couple more wizards approaching the house who had just apparated in the middle of the vast Weasley backyard.

“Harry, if we don’t get out of the house, we’re doomed!”

Harry exhaled in exasperation; both of them were always evading capture for many days. They’d probably use the same old escape tactics that hadn’t failed them yet, but he admitted things were getting too repetitive. “Care to run away again this time? I hope we won’t be doing this for the rest of our lives…”

Ron nodded. “I got to admit it hurts my pride, but I think we don’t have much choice! Let’s go!” They sprang to sprint out to the rear porch. As they cleared the door outside, Harry went to the left, while Ron thought they’d go the opposite way. When Ron had noticed they were separating, Harry had made a good deal of distance from him as fast as he could to a forest.

WHAM! A violent spell hit one of the wooden posts of the rear porch, causing its roof to collapse and blocking Ron’s view of Harry’s retreating back. Ron hesitated a bit, but he had no choice but to continue on running the other way or else the Death Eaters could cut him off and catch him. Cursing to himself, he ran ahead to an open field where he could see some more clumps of trees at a far distance; hiding right in one of them was his best chance of getting away in one piece. The two Death Eaters seemed to have considered him, as they were pursuing him already.

Harry had reached the edge of the forest when he had taken a look back, expecting Ron to be just behind him, but to his dismay and surprise, he was alone. Graham and his cronies were already getting closer; Harry could see Ron being chased by two more at a distance, disappearing down on an opposite slope. “Go, Ron!” Harry said to no one in particular.

Harry could only hope for Ron’s safe escape as he negotiated the first layer of trees of the forest. The space between the thick trees were just a few feet apart, and if Harry didn’t run between them very carefully, he’d surely bump on one of them by the nose. He could hear Graham and the Death Eaters’ faint footsteps just a few meters behind him. Slowing down to catch his breath was not a very good idea at this point.

He wasn’t too familiar about this part of the Burrow’s vicinity, because he’d never been away from the Weasley’s house for more than a hundred meters. Harry had begun to wish he and Ron hadn’t separated because Ron would probably know what lied ahead. He could only hope for luck, and whichever way he took won’t lead to a dead end.

Harry had felt the first curses whoosh past him, hitting some trees in front. Whatever would transpire in dangerous this cat-and-mouse game, he now expected will most likely end in a duel. Graham seemed to be aggressive this time around, more determined than ever to get Harry – their last encounter may have humiliated him a great deal.

Harry pulled out his wand from his pocket, going through his mind a few spells he had learned in his five years of Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. Doing this proved to be difficult, because he was losing breath, running constantly and hurdling a few fallen tree trunks. His leg muscles were beginning to cramp, and a stitch was growing more painful at his side, but he was determined to fight it, or he’d be caught. The prospect of facing Voldemort again was scaring him. Harry had already thought of a few good curses and jinxes that could help him, mostly out of the things he learned with Hermione’s “special classes”.

The ground was rising, and that meant to Harry that he had reached some kind of a hill; how high, he didn’t have a clue and he could see up ahead it was getting steeper. Moving around it was risky at best, because if Graham and the others saw him, they’d just simply cut him off.

Harry had climbed about a couple dozen feet. He was literally out of breath, and his leg muscles could not take the abuse of climbing much further. He settled his back on one of the thick trees that had grown at the slope to rest up a little. Sweating furiously, he peered around the trunk and saw one of Graham’s men about twenty or so feet away from his position – Harry had the high ground, and he was a little glad he could use that to his advantage. The Death Eaters would have to fight an uphill battle to get him.

Harry pointed his wand down the slope and aimed at the nearest Death Eater very carefully. When he had gotten near enough, Harry bellowed, “Locomotor Mortis!” The Death Eater’s legs locked together and he had lost his balance, sending him down the hill rolling and bouncing like a log, blowing the wind out of the other by hitting him at the stomach. Graham had dodged, and kept on running up the slope.

“Impedimenta!” Harry said, but Graham had barely avoided Harry’s next curse that would have slowed him down a great deal by hiding behind another tree. He retaliated by using a spell that made the tree Harry was using as cover fall down like timber. This, however, gave Harry an opportunity to escape up the hill further as the thick leaves and branches had shielded him from Graham’s sight.

Soon enough he had reached the crest, and he felt better now that he didn’t have to fight gravity anymore because he was now descending the opposite slope, dodging more trees. More curses were whipping past ahead of him; he occasionally stopped running to return curses of his own, but he wasn’t sure he had hit anyone. Still, he felt some sort of satisfaction by returning the favor even though it hadn’t done anything good.

Harry had resumed running down the slope. He felt his speed was gradually getting faster, and before he realized it, he wasn’t running anymore. He was leaping. The slope didn’t seem to settle off and he was yelling his lungs out in terror. His right foot had landed hard on the ground, and Harry felt his ankle crack. He fell forward, sending himself rolling down dangerously fast down the steep slope for a long time, bouncing occasionally, and fighting hard to slow down before breaking any more bones. He feared that there would be some kind of a cliff up ahead, and surely enough he didn’t feel the coarse earth for a couple of seconds before feeling his body absorb an abrupt stop. He had fallen about twenty feet from atop an almost vertical incline.

The spinning had stopped, and Harry was lying on his back, breathing painfully as though his ribs had punctured his lungs. He tried to stand up, but he was hurting all over and couldn’t move a muscle. He then realized he had lost the fight, possibly paralyzed for the rest of his life. It was just a matter of time when Graham and the Death Eaters could find him, he thought. Still he fought severe pain to move and get as far away from them as possible, but each time he did so, he failed.

Being brought to Voldemort would mean defeat for Dumbledore who had done all he can to prevent that from happening; Harry felt that he had already failed him and rendered all his years of effort useless. His heart sank further when thoughts of Ron and Hermione drifted across his mind. All he could do now was close his eyes and wait for the inevitable.

After what he felt like ages, he finally heard feet stepping on the dry leaves coming closer to him. He was already certain Graham and the Death Eaters were making them. This was it, the end of everything as he knew it; Harry didn’t want to open his eyes anymore to the world. All he wanted to remember last was seeing the towering trees above him reach up to the sky…how peaceful and serene it looked…

“He’s hurt. Let’s bring him back slowly now,” said one voice. Probably one of the Death Eaters, Harry thought. He then felt suddenly sleepy and it felt real good – too good that he could not remember anything else he thought about before he had finally drifted off to darkness.

***

Surrounded by innumerable Death Eaters in a tight circle, Harry found himself beside Voldemort whose horrible laugh was reverberating around a dark and dank cavern. Far off, he could see two human figures off at a distance, illuminated by a hundred torches. They were hanging on to something. They strangely looked too familiar, like he had known them for so long, yet he could not seem to remember.

Voldemort wasn’t talking, and kept on laughing. Harry somehow knew what he was up to, and like he expected all along, a bright green light from Voldemort’s wand illuminated the two figures. The light lingered on as though it was killing them ever so slowly. “Your friends have had their worth,” Voldemort said in a maniacal laugh, and Harry realized who the two were. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. He ran towards them, but for each stride he made, Ron and Ginny seemed to get farther…and farther…

“Harry?”

He opened his eyes very slowly. It took a few more seconds for Harry to catch on that it was just one of those damn dreams. Everything he saw was a blur at first, but his vision returned to normal fairly quickly. The next sight he saw made his heart leap. Hermione was staring down at him, seated beside him on a bed in a room that he wasn’t familiar with.

“Harry! Thank God you’re awake!” said Hermione softly, hugging him around the neck.

“Th-They got you too?” said Harry weakly.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “Oh, you mean the Death Eaters.”

“Where had they brought us?”

“Nowhere. We’re safe in Percy’s bedroom, Harry. Almost everybody is downstairs waiting for you to wake up. The aurors got to you just in time before the Death Eater named Graham had reached you.”

“Aurors? How?”

“I’ll explain later, I promise,” Hermione said soothingly. “But for now you look like you need some healing, and it’s good to see you again.” She brushed Harry’s hair with her hand very gently.

“Same here,” Harry responded, enjoying Hermione’s soft touch. “How are things back at Hogwarts?”

Hermione sighed. “Still not good…I had to run away the day after you did because Jack Chadron found out I knew too much about him.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story, but you’re going to know about that when – when everything has, let’s say, calmed down a bit?”

“Okay,” Harry sighed. He knew what Hermione had meant. It wasn’t over yet. “How’s Dumbledore?”

“Dumbledore and McGonagall haven’t recovered yet,” Hermione said grimly. “Nobody really knows how to revive them, even Madam Pomfrey. They’re working hard on it, though. Wait here, I’ll tell them you’ve come to.” Hermione stood and walked out of the room. A minute later she came back with Mister and Mrs. Weasley behind her, and they looked very relieved to see him.

“Oh, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said affectionately, hurrying over to his bed and fixing his blanket. “I’m so happy you’re back. You took such a bad fall.”

“I’m not paralyzed, am I?” said Harry nervously, trying to move his hands out from under his blanket.

“No, but you do have a broken ankle, and I consider that lucky for you,” said Mr. Weasley. “In most cases, it would have been your spine.” Hermione let out a dry sob upon hearing that, and Mrs. Weasley place a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Where’s Ron, Mrs. Weasley, is he downstairs?” Harry said. Mister and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other, and that made him and Hermione nervous. “What is it? Has something happened to Ron?”

“They’re still looking for him,” said Hermione sadly. “I do hope he’s not…Oh, I can’t say it…” She sat down at the foot of Harry’s bed and tears began to stream out of her eyes. Mister Weasley kept himself calm.

Though he dreaded the possibly of something bad had happened to Ron, Harry thought that he was probably just straggling out there, waiting for the right time to re-emerge from the shadows of the forest. At least, he hoped so.

“I reckon he’s just hasn’t come out yet of the forest yet,” Mr. Weasley said, echoing Harry’s thoughts. “Maybe the search party is scaring him…but he’ll be back.” The sky was darkening outside - it would just be a matter of time and Ron would be back. Everybody was left in his or her own thoughts about Ron, hoping Mr. Weasley was right about what he said.

“I’ll cook some hot porridge for you, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley, racking up her courage to talk and breaking the silence. Harry could see signs of deep worry on her eyes before she turned around and walked out of the room. No sooner than she had gotten out, someone appeared at the doorway. It was Olga Gargarin, the Bulgarian Auror they knew in the Ministry of Magic in London. Earlier in the term she had been sent to Hogwarts when a monster called an Oarling threatened to possess Hermione. After the monster had died from the combined efforts of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the trio had become friends with the Auror. Olga was almost the same the age as McGonagall’s, pale, and skinny. She looked remarkably similar to Snape if not for that large mole on top of her nose.

“Professor Gargarin!” said Harry, pleasantly surprised to see her. “I’m so glad you’re here. I was thinking about contacting you since yesterday!”

“Hello, Harry,” she said, smiling. “Good to see you in one piece.” She walked slowly deeper into the room, pulled up a chair, and sat down beside Harry’s bed. “Are you feeling okay now?” she asked.

“I feel sore all around, but I’ll be all right soon I guess, thanks,” replied Harry, pushing himself up to lean his back on the bed’s headboard. Hermione sprang off the bed and helped him up. “Are you in this case, too?” Harry said, grunting.

“Unofficially, yes,” Olga shrugged then grinned at Mister Weasley, who smiled weakly back. “Ever since I heard you had run away from Hogwarts. When you did that, I thought there was something wrong about Ron’s involvement with the murder attempt. Then word came that Hermione followed out, I knew something was really wrong – I know you wouldn’t do that out of a whim.” Olga was in her usual serious and formal self, like Harry and Hermione had known her. Even though she was almost always this way, she was still a very likable and gentle person.

“If it’s okay, Professor,” Harry started humbly, “Can you tell me all you know about this case?”

“Yeah, because I wish you came to Hogwarts instead of that Maximus wizard, Professor,” said Hermione. “At least we would have had an ally then while we looked for the truth.”

“Well, as I can see you’re really eager to hear what brought us all here, so okay…” Olga said slowly.

“Unfortunately, Hermione, Maximus Blake was assigned instead of me,” she continued gently with a hint of disappointment in her voice. “I wish they picked me, though, because I couldn’t believe Ron could do that to Professor Dumbledore and I would’ve put you under my protection. But when Daedelus Lowrie took over, Maximus came to me and we talked about his concerns about the safety of Harry and Ron when the suspected Death Eater I was watching closely, Graham Denton, was hired to hunt them down.”

Mister Weasley, along with Harry and Hermione, were listening intently to Olga. He had been away too long from the Ministry that he seemed to be hearing this story for the first time.

“Dodgy bloke, that Graham,” said Mister Weasley huffily. “If we’ll ever catch him again, he’ll have to pay. The Ministry is in shambles right now, Olga. It’s been infiltrated too much by Death Eaters, and Cornelius Fudge isn’t sure whom to trust.” Olga nodded.

“Graham got away?” said Harry, not believing what he had just heard.

“Most of them, at least – Death Eaters,” answered Mr. Weasley back. “Thanks to Hermione here, her own quest to bring crucial evidence to the Ministry had triggered a full inquiry of all Ministry of Magic wizards, in addition to clearing Ron with the crime…”

He trailed off and looked away for a few seconds after saying this, and Harry thought this was odd. As Ron’s father he was supposed to be happy about this, he thought. Mr. Weasley finally forced a smile and said, “More good news comes with this, Harry. Cornelius Fudge has prepared a full pardon for you, Ron, and Hermione for flouting the Decree for Underage Wizardry.”

“That means we can go back to Hogwarts as if we haven’t thought of doing magic, Harry,” said Hermione happily.

“Hermione, you did it!” said Harry, proud of Hermione who was visibly flattered. The letter was enough all along?” She shook her head, and her cheeks were getting redder each second. Hermione told Harry excitedly all about how she found out about the Advanced Sneakscope, what it contained, how she got out of Hogwarts, how she tried to bring the object to anyone in the Ministry, and how she kept it from falling into the wrong hands. Harry was very impressed with her.

“When I heard that Hermione had come to Ministry of Magic in London, I rushed in to meet her there,” added Olga. “But I got nervous when she wasn’t in the interview room anymore, and someone said he saw her go out with Jedd Wright, the senior investigator. That was highly suspicious, and I thought she was in possible danger, so Maximus went out to look for her. He eventually found Hermione with Jedd Wright, and stunned him while he was mishandling her in an alley. Hermione got stunned, too, however.”

“So where’s Jack Chadron now?” asked Harry, expecting good news. “I hope he’s in Azkaban now.”

“Someone tipped him off at Hogwarts, Harry,” said Hermione, frowning. “He slipped away before an Auror came to arrest him.” Harry cursed loudly, but Hermione didn’t mind like she usually did when he said such things. The feeling was mutual.

“I can’t believe he couldn’t pay for what he did…” Harry said with extreme disappointment.

“Well, at least Ron’s out of trouble now, I guess,” said Hermione slowly. Olga and Harry nodded, while Mr. Weasely shifted uncomfortably on his chair.

After a long silence, Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. He could not help but admire the sacrifice she had made for him and Ron. She had risked her life to get the truth out. “Hermione, I don’t know what to say, but thanks for everything,” he said, looking as if he could kiss her.

“Uh, you’re welcome,” said Hermione, smiling and glancing at the ceiling. “Actually, I just I don’t want them destroying our friendship.”

“Same here,” Harry said, grinning. “I was kind of worried about you being left alone in Hogwarts without us. But if I found out what you did, I think Ron and I would’ve freaked out. But I bet you were charging the Death Eaters like a runaway train all along – well, me and Ron were running around all the time.”

“I don’t remember being out of my mind to do that,” Hermione said, chuckling. “I count two or three encounters with Death Eaters and I just didn’t think anything else but to run out of there each time.”

“Ron and I did, too. Three times and that, I think, makes us all even,” said Harry, which made him and Hermione laugh heartily. Olga, who did not see the humor out of it, made a face at Mr. Weasley, who shrugged back. However, both of them admired Harry and Hermione’s bravery; others would have suffered some shock, but both of them just treated what had happened to them as another notch among all their adventures.

“I’ll be down at the living room, Harry,” said Olga. “I need to meet the Aurors present downstairs and talk about what to do next. The Ministry needs all the clean hands they could get. I’m glad to see you safe again.”

Harry and Hermione thanked Olga and she walked slowly out of the room followed by Mr. Weasley. Harry and Hermione were again left to themselves. She filled him in with all the other loose details.

“I wrote to tell you I was going to the Ministry of Magic. Did you get it?” Hermione asked.

“You did? Uh, no…”

“Stupid owl – I knew I made him mad by not opening the window…” Hermione said, gritting her teeth. Harry laughed, imagining an owl hitting a closed window.

“Ginny had unwittingly given off your location to the Death Eaters with the spell she made out of your wand,” Hermione went on, “but she showed presence of mind and called her dad for some help. That had helped the Aurors find you.”

Harry saw something red jut out of the doorway, and sure enough, it was Ginny who’d been hesitating to get in the room for ages. “Hullo, Ginny,” said Harry. “How long you’ve been there?” Hermione looked and smiled at her direction.

“Not too long, I think,” Ginny whispered, and she seemed to be very embarrassed about the whole thing. “I don’t blame you if you’d be mad at me for as long as you live…” Hermione stood up and went over to her, and pulled her gently closer to Harry. Ginny just glanced at the floor all the time sheepishly, snatching a look at Harry occasionally.

“Don’t worry, Ginny, I’m not mad at you at all,” said Harry sincerely.

“Oh, Harry!” Ginny wailed. “I’m so sorry for everything! I shouldn’t have lost it like that back there…If I’d known it would put you in more danger than I thought, I wouldn’t have done it!” She almost touched Harry’s hand, but drew back slightly and hid her hands behind her back.

“We had a girl talk with her little problem about us, Harry,” said Hermione, giggling.

“Ginny, I want to thank you, really, for calling for help,” Harry said. “If you didn’t, I’d be in we-don’t-know-where with You-Know-Who.” However, this didn’t seem to make Ginny feel any better. In fact, her face fell much lower. “Really, Ginny, you did a heroic thing.”

“Oh, it’s all my fault, Harry!” said Ginny, now positively howling. “It’s all my fault! I don’t know if I can forgive myself - ”

“Ginny, everything’s fine, really. We’re all fine. I only have a broken ankle - ”

“If I haven’t done that spell with your wand, you wouldn’t have been hurt – and Ron wouldn’t have been held hostage by You-Know-Who!!!”

Harry and Hermione both said “WHAT?” Hermione held out a hand on the bed to support herself, and Harry slid a few inches down his sitting position.

“They’ve got Ron?” Harry said, looking blankly at Ginny. “W-What for?”

Ginny sunk down on the chair Olga occupied earlier, and she was overwhelmed with extreme anxiety. “Please don’t tell Mum and Dad I told you, but, I overheard them talking about Ron. A Death Eater came to deliver a message.” She looked at Harry very slowly and said “The message said if you won’t come to You-Know-Who personally within four hours, he’ll kill Ron.”

15. For the Love of Ron

Chapter 14

“For the Love of Ron”

“Ginny, w-what exactly did you hear from your parents?” asked Hermione, feeling dazed. Harry was just staring at Ginny, feeling numb all throughout his body after hearing the news.

“Dad and Mum were both crying – I’ve never seen them both like this,” replied Ginny, who was equally distraught. She finally found the chair behind her she was feeling around for, and she did not stop herself from sitting down harder than normal. “Nobody knows where Ron is now – but Mum reckons You-Know-Who already has him. Dad’s considering taking on You-Know-Who by himself to rescue Ron - ”

“No! He can’t do that!” Harry interrupted loudly. “Voldemort will kill him on the spot – not that I doubt your Dad’s dueling skills, but I can’t let that happen. It’s me he wants…” Ginny shook when she heard the name.

“But Harry, surely you can’t possibly take on Voldemort with that foot!” Hermione said earnestly, pointing at his right ankle.

“Shhh,” said Ginny, putting a finger on her lips. “Could you put your voices down? Mum and Dad might hear us.” She tiptoed towards the door, looked outside for a moment, and closed it gently.

“Hermione, you heard what Ginny said,” Harry continued on, but this time more quietly. “If he can’t have me, Ron will die…”

“But do we really know for sure he has Ron right now?” asked Hermione thoughtfully. “I mean - I smell a trap somewhere here, Harry.”

“What are you suggesting?” said Harry impatiently. “Of course I know it’s a trap – even if it isn’t, I still have to face - ”

“Say You-Know-Who please?” said Ginny, shuddering involuntarily.

“ – him. Whether you like it or not! I’m going!” Harry tried to stand up from the bed, but Hermione pushed him back gently with a finger, which was enough to make him fall back again from where he sat.

“See, Harry? I didn’t even put out a sweat to push you back down…” said Hermoine. “You’re in no condition to confront anyone yet – let alone You-Know-Who.”

“I just lost my balance – “ said Harry angrily, and he tried to stand up again, this time feeling the soreness of his body. Hermione blocked his path with a menacing look; Harry lost his footing again, but luckily Ginny was quick and she caught him before he fell down on the floor. Hermione held out her hands to pull him back up, shaking her head. She could have scolded him once more if not for the sobs she heard Harry make.

“I don’t want let him to die!” Harry said, positively crying now, not with anger but with dread of losing his best friend. “I have no choice – don’t you see!?! I have to do something!”

Hermione had never seen Harry cry before, ever since they had first met. She couldn’t blame him – he and Ron were already friends before she became one with them. But this didn’t mean she was less special for Harry. For without Ron, she’d lose someone special in her life, too. And that, she would not permit – even it would mean going face-to-face with Voldemort. The thought scared her, and the prospect of Ron dying made her eyes being filled with tears, too. The three of them fell silent for a long time, each of them seemed to have nothing to say. Hermione did the most thinking, as Harry and Ginny looked to have put their minds into idle.

Harry had met Voldemort twice. First, during his first year in Hogwarts, but he didn’t seem to have been affected unlike the one incident Harry had seen him grow into a new form. That was last year, and Hermione couldn’t forget Harry being so silent for a whole week, and he was one of the bravest she had met. She didn’t want to think what meeting Lord Voldemort himself would do to her sanity. Harry had been talking about facing up to Voldemort all by himself to save the life of Ron, but with his condition, letting him go alone and die in result of it was criminal, and it would surely haunt her for the rest of her life. Whether she liked it or not, she had to go with Harry. It was her duty as his best friend.

“Harry, I don’t want you to go and put yourself in danger –“ Hermione started, and Harry snapped a look at her.

“So we’ll just let them kill him?” said Harry incredulously. “I can’t believe you’d let him die, Hermione!”

“I don’t want you to go and put yourself in danger,” Hermione repeated. “Without me.”

Harry stared at her.

“You’ve been talking about going there all by yourself all day,” said Hermione softly. “I don’t want you to do that without me. I’m upset about this, too, Harry, and I don’t want to lose Ron as much as you do.”

“Hermione – you don’t know what you’re saying,” said Harry, with a pleading look drawn on his face. He had felt that he had somehow convinced her to reconsider his plan to go after Ron, but ironically it was his turn to make Hermione see reason not to go with him. He wouldn’t want to put her life in mortal danger, too.

“I have to go and face him alone; it’s me he wants,” Harry continued. “He might kill you if he sees you – you’re a Muggle-born. You know how he hates Muggle-borns…”

“He might kill you once he sees you, too, Harry,” argued Hermione. “We can’t know what he’ll do this time. But together, we may have a chance to get in and out alive – with Ron. If you’ll just barge there wherever they may be without a plan or something, the worst thing that might happen is that you’ll be murdered. Then You-Know-Who kills Ron as a bonus. I don’t think I could live without the two of you, Harry!”

They both looked at each other for a long time. Harry went through his mind and weighed the pros and cons in bringing Hermione along. He was strongly against exposing her to extreme danger, even to Voldemort’s slightest gaze. But Hermione had a point somewhere. They might have a chance to pull this off without anyone being killed, but that was hoping too much. However, Harry had finally realized he was being stupid to think of rescuing Ron himself with a broken ankle.

“If you die, Hermione, I won’t forgive myself for the rest of my life,” said Harry after a very long pause, which made Hermione drop her head. “So we have to watch each other’s back, won’t we?”

Hermione lifted her head back and looked at Harry once more, breathing. This was it. She had already committed herself to the task. To her, this was more honorable than wimping out on the spot. “Right, Harry,” she said, smiling. “All for one and one for all?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, and held out his hand for Hermione to shake. She didn’t take it, but embraced him tightly instead, which Harry did in return. “I can’t believe we’re putting ourselves in a suicide mission – “

“Did you remember asking me to tell you when you’re being pessimistic again, Harry?” said Hermione, while still in the same hug. “You’re doing it now.”

Harry laughed briefly, glanced sideways, and curled his lips. He was visibly worried.

“We can do it, Harry,” said Hermione quietly as they broke apart, as though she had seen Harry’s face at the back of her head. “As long as we’re together, eh?”

Harry nodded, and inhaled deeply. “What do we do next?” he said, letting go of his breath.

Ginny moved forward. “Are you through arguing?” she said. “Good. Now that you’ve decided, I’m going with you, too.”

“Ginny,” said Harry, sighing. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s a good idea – Hermione and I can take care of this ourselves…You’re a - ”

“When did you start being chauvinistic, Harry?” said Ginny quickly, scowling.

“What do you mean? I haven’t said anything yet – “ said Harry defensively, and glanced at Hermione for support. Unfortunately she only rolled her eyes, tightened her lips and shrugged. “But if your Dad finds out I let you go with us, he’ll kill me,” Harry told Ginny.

“I’ll take care of him on my own,” Ginny said confidently. “Since what I did with your wand put you into this state and then Ron in an uncompromising situation, I feel absolutely responsible for this! Besides - ” Ginny pulled out a piece of parchment from her robe pocket and held it out for Harry and Hermione to see. “I have a lead. This…is the note the Death Eater gave to Dad and Mum. It has instructions on what Harry must do to exchange places with Ron. If you don’t want me to go with you, I’ll tear it up.” She let that sink in.

“Don’t be so reckless, Ginny” said Harry seriously. “If you do that, then we’ll never find Ron.”

“You won’t – but I can. Everything on paper is all in my head now.”

“I don’t believe this – “ Harry said, gritting his teeth and shaking his head. “What did you two eat for dinner this time?” he said.

“Is that a yes?” said Ginny expectantly.

“Maybe. But you should realize we’d probably be seeing Vol-de-mort -” said Harry, saying the name very slowly. “I don’t know how you’d handle that – by the way, your hair is literally standing, Ginny…”

“I-I’m not afraid of him…” denied Ginny, but she was visibly shaking from head to foot. “I’m quite looking f-forward to it.”

“Can we see what’s in the parchment now?” said Hermione, grinning.

***

Jack Chadron was pacing back and forth in a little chamber deep in Voldemort’s newly constructed castle that was recently christened as “Xanthius”. The chamber was smaller than what he was used to back in Hogwarts. About a hundred square feet and walls made of stone, it had a bed, a night table, and a desk with a chair. Magical torches lit the room, and it had a single thick, heavy wooden door that was closed. There was a small rectangular window with decorative iron grilles on the other wall, and he saw that his chamber was adjacent to another one that was equally furnished. There was no one inside that other room, he thought, because it was all too quiet. A high window on the opposite wall, also with grilles, showed what was outside Xanthius. It was getting dark, he couldn’t make out anything more than a hundred feet. It was oddly foggy this time of the day, and all he could see was a deep moat just below this window, rolling hills of grass, and lines of tall trees obscured by mist. He couldn’t tell where in Britain he was.

The location of Xanthius was privy only to Voldemort’s closest lieutenants. The origin of the name wasn’t known, and unless Voldemort himself shared how he had arrived with that name, nobody would dare ask him yet. Jack was forced to apparate in a location Lucius Malfoy had instructed just after word had gotten out that the Ministry of Magic might swoop in to Hogwarts and arrest him. Jack was not fully prepared to perform apparition yet, but the urgency of the situation gave him no other choice. If he stayed longer than what was necessary, he had to deal with a mob of hundreds of potentially angry students and he wouldn’t have the chance to escape. Word had gotten in the school that he was the real culprit of Dumbledore’s attempted murder. He was not supposed to know about it, but rumors were rumors. It spread like wildfire literally in seconds.

This was why he was walking with a crutch on his right side. In his haste, he failed to take into account his right leg when he disapparated, the only visible casualty to his devotion to the Dark Lord. Although he thought it was regrettable, he proudly regarded it as one of the reasons Voldemort might be inclined to honor him in front of full-fledged Death Eaters. After all, Lucius Malfoy had told him he heard Voldemort once said that he rewards his helpers. This fact comforted him very much, and he was confident everything would be allright from now on.

Going to this castle was easy. Lucius had provided him a portkey that led to where he now stood. Lucius’ last instructions played over and over in his head: “I’ll follow you to Xanthius shortly, and don’t get out of the chamber until someone tells you otherwise, and don’t even think of opening the door.” He wondered why he wasn’t allowed yet to at least take a peek out of the door once he arrived, but he trusted his benefactor wholeheartedly. Trying to take a look outside wasn’t possible anyway; he had “innocently” tried to turn the knob, and it was locked from outside.

Lucius may have some kind of a plan on how to present him to Dark Lord, he thought. He was beginning to get anxious to get it started. The Dark Lord would probably be a loving master, and he could see it now: the Dark Lord himself standing over some kind of an elevated platform, arms open as he approached him. Like a proud father and a heroic son, united in front of his jealous peers. He limped around once more smugly, and hummed to himself.

He heard someone grunt somewhere, and it looked like it came from the other room he earlier thought was empty. He came to the window slowly and said, “Hello. I’m Jack Chadron. Who are you please? Are you also a guest of the Dark Lord?”

There was silence for a moment, and he didn’t get an answer aside from a snort, and then followed by a laugh – the kind of laugh made after a very good joke. Jack scowled, growing annoyed by the non-stop laughter. “I don’t remember saying anything funny,” he said. “I was asking you a straight question.”

The laughter subsided, and the person who made it spoke. “I can’t believe you’re still this so naïve, Jack,” he said coarsely. “We, guests?” He roared again.

“Identify yourself whoever you are!” said Jack, getting angry. “Why are you laughing at me?” he demanded.

Silence again. Then Jack thought whoever it was in the other room was trying to stand up – very painfully. After hearing a few further grunts, he spoke again. “I’m the reason that brought you here, Jack.”

From the bottom of the high window emerged someone red haired, pale and long nosed. His face was dirty and full of bruises, and he stared at Jack weakly with droopy eyes.

“Ah, so it’s you, Ron Weasley,” Jack said, not drawing back, and laughing lightly. Jack was enjoying seeing Ron looking like he was battered so many times with torture. “How’s it like to be working for the losing camp?”

“Delightful,” Ron said sarcastically. He was skipping slightly to keep himself standing up straight. “We’ve got very friendly hosts.” He grunted in pain, and glanced down on Jack’s missing leg. “What, they didn’t take off your other leg and arms, too?”

“What are you talking about? Nobody caught me,” Jack said calmly. “I just made a mistake, that’s all.”

“You apparated in? Well, I call you lucky. At least it’ll save you the pain of losing your legs more than once.”

“You’re the prisoner here, Weasley. I’m not,” retorted Jack. “You’re the enemy, and again, I’m not.”

Ron snorted again contemptously, and then shook his head slightly.

“I see they brought you here,” said Jack, trying to change the subject. “Gave you a welcoming party, too, I say. I hope it was fun.” He looked at Ron from head to foot. Ron was holding his arm with his hand, and he was only standing on one foot. He looked sore all over apparently from numerous beatings. “As you’re here, soon the Dark Lord will get who he really wants.”

“Yeah, yeah, famous Harry – Potter,” Ron mocked. “I don’t see how he’ll find me, though, if he even thinks of looking for me.”

“Well, well, I see you’re doubting your so-called best friend already,” said Jack, getting some satisfaction from Ron’s voice. “But don’t worry. If he does or doesn’t come, you’re still good as dead. As for me, my moment of glory approaches. Tsk, tsk. I’m the lucky one indeed.”

“Whatever,” Ron said, making a face. He looked around his room, and then peeked in on Jack’s. “Seems to me we have the same kind of room, Jack,” he said, smiling slightly. “And I don’t call this a guest room one bit.”

“It’s a guest room, Weasley, and you’re the Dark Lord’s guest. He treats his guests – very warmly as you have already experienced it.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right on that one,” said Ron, his face brightening. “And I guess this makes you one of his guests, too.” Ron laughed again, and started to skip back to his bed. Jack didn’t get the gist but he stood there thinking that he had missed something out of Ron’s words.

Meanwhile, Ron had fallen on his bed, which was surprisingly comfortable and well cleaned. He grunted in pain as he lifted his bad leg with his hand, and settled himself again for another bout of loneliness. He sounded disappointed when he talked to Jack about Harry, but in truth, he was glad Harry apparently hadn’t been caught yet; he’d probably know if they had captured him already. The two Death Eaters guarding his cell – he called this room a cell – were pretty blabby, and they were talking to each other about everything that was happening, including what they expected would happen to Jack Chadron. He hadn’t heard even just a rumor about Harry falling into Death Eater hands.

Ron could have strangled Jack if he wanted to. As hot-tempered as he is, and could not easily forget transgressions done to him and to his friends, he was amazed with himself that he had kept his cool when he looked and talked at the former Head Boy. Jack Chadron was responsible for everything that has happened to his family, Hogwarts, his future, and his best friends. However he realized screaming in front of him about it wouldn’t do anything good. Jack might just derive some amusement from that, because he really thought he was that important to You-Know-Who.

Ron had survived a grueling interrogation process right after he was brought to Xanthius. He had not seen You-Know-Who himself, but Ron felt his strong presence in this castle. Death Eaters tortured him for information about Harry’s whereabouts, but he didn’t talk. Ron thought they were stupid, though. They had seen him and Harry get separated in the last chase, yet they demanded him to talk where he last saw Harry.

He reckoned it was just an excuse to torture him with curses because they obviously were enjoying it, and they were probably fully aware that he didn’t know where Harry would have gotten to. So that meant he was supposed to be tortured indefinitely, because he couldn’t give any info in the first place. Ron could have sworn he had been at the brink of death so many times with the relentless blows he was subjected to, but he felt they needed him alive than dead. And then it had occurred to him that he was here for a reason. They wanted Harry to come for him.

“Harry,” Ron called under his breath for the umpteenth time, hoping that Harry would have some sort of telepathy to hear him from afar. “It’s a trap. I’m not worth it. Live on with Hermione without me…” Each time he said that, he would be in tears.

***

“What is it, Harry?” said Hermione as she, Harry, and Ginny were huddled around a square table with some of Percy’s old 7th-year books plopped open in front of them. They were cramming for more spells to use before going for Ron. Hermione had caught Harry staring blankly on the far wall.

“Uh, I don’t know, but I could have sworn I heard a voice…” said Harry, snapping back into reality.

“Hmmm – not made by a basilisk again, I hope,” said Ginny absent-mindedly, skimming a few pages. “Our pipes are too small in the Burrow.” Harry didn’t say anything and bent forward again to return to his reading.

“I don’t think we could learn as much spells on short notice, I reckon,” said Hermione biting her lower lip as she looked at the clock and opening another book. “Even for me, these are very advanced spells, and I don’t know which I can learn very quickly…”

“Hermione, I’d never thought I’d hear you admitting something like that in my lifetime,” quipped Harry. Hermione made a face and stuck her tongue out at him.

“Found the one about Portkey manipulation yet?” said Harry to everybody.

“Not yet, but I’m zeroing in on it,” said Ginny, her eyes scanning a certain page. “AHA!”

“You found it?” said Hermione, looking disappointed that it wasn’t her who did.

“The spell can be done by saying ‘Modificus Porticumium’,” said Ginny, pushing the open book to Harry and Hermione.

“Then?” they both said while staring at the page.

“It says here - ” Ginny added, pulling the book away again, and Hermione wanted to complain but stopped herself. “ – that we must have a blank parchment under the Portkey and the spell will draw a map of where the destination is. We can then try to change the destination by tapping the wand to a point within an area of fifty feet around the original spot – in scale, of course.” She read further again. “Oh, good, we could also set the exact time we want the Portkey to transport us.”

“Hey, that’s a useful discovery you have there, Ginny,” said Harry, grinning. “That would help us go to where the Portkey might point to without falling into some kind of a trap. I bet whoever prepared the Portkey made sure I wouldn’t move another inch from where I’d land. We’ll pop in a different location without being seen.”

The note on the parchment was concise. Like Ginny had said, a Death Eater had brought it personally to Mr. Weasley. Why Aurors didn’t arrest him on the spot, Harry couldn’t say why. The parchment the Death Eater had left specifically instructed Harry to touch the Portkey (which doubled as a bowler hat) in a predetermined time to be whisked off in exchange of Ron exactly two hours from now. Thanks to Hermione’s persistence, Harry had seen the light and he didn’t believe it was that simple and safe anymore. It certainly had all the indications of a trap, and the Death Eaters would probably never care if Ron would go back home or not, as long as they had Harry already. Harry hated himself for not learning how to distrust Death Eaters.

Mr. Weasley had placed the bowler hat on top of the fireplace that was situated in the sitting room. He and Mrs. Weasley were currently in the same room, arguing quietly about his plans to take on Voldemort himself. Ginny admitted that Mr. Weasley didn’t have the real skills to face up to a dark wizard like Voldemort, even though he was a very experienced Ministry wizard already. Her dad’s approach of addressing the problem was through confrontation with You-Know-Who and that was easily the same as outright suicide. Harry’s plan was to get in, avoid facing up to Voldemort if they can, and get Ron out. She believed the latter was better, though it was as equally dangerous as the former. And besides, this was her chance to prove her mettle, she thought.

Harry knew stealing the hat outright would make Mr. Weasley suspect they were up to something, so he, Hermione, and Ginny twisted their brains for ages thinking of a way how to get to it.

“I think I’ve got it,” said Hermione brightly. “Ginny, what did the hat look like?”

“Uh, it’s a grey felt bowler hat, medium size, in good condition,” Ginny replied. “Why?”

“I could just Transfigure something into one.”

“Now why didn’t I think of something as simple as that?” said Harry, pounding a fist lightly on his head.

“Because you were thinking of setting off dungbombs on top of Mister and Mrs. Weasley, Harry,” said Hermione. “They’d quickly recognize it as a diversion – I bet Fred and George used that more than once on them.”

“Ten times,” added Ginny. “Here’s a tea-cup. I hope you can change this into a hat.”

Hermione thanked Ginny, rolled up her sleeves, tapped the tea-cap once with her wand, and muttered something. The cup morphed, and turned into a hat.

The three of them stared at the enormous black bearskin hat in front of them. “I think you overdid it, Hermione,” said Harry slowly, peering around the edge to see her scowling. He wanted to say something about trying to do it himself but Hermione stopped him.

With a few more tries (the hat changed into a turban and a pith helmet), Hermione finally made it resemble like a bowler. “It’s close,” said Ginny. “Except for the small patch at the back, but probably Dad wouldn’t notice it isn’t the same one anymore. This’ll do.”

Harry saw Hermione kept on twisting her face. He snorted and said, “Hermione, I think you’ve lost your…”

“Oh, shut up,” she snapped.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley knocked and opened the door. Harry quickly snatched the hat from the table top and threw it under the bed. “Oh, nice to see books being opened for once,” said Mrs. Weasley, smiling.

“We’re, uhm, making up for lost lessons, Mum,” said Ginny. “Any word from Ron?”

“Uh, not yet, I’m afraid,” said Mrs. Weasley, with a hint of uneasiness in her voice. “But he’ll be around soon, I’m sure of it – dinner is ready. Would you like me to bring up some food for you, Harry?”

“Oh, no thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry quickly. “I’ll go down with Hermione and Ginny.”

“Okay, Dad and I will be at the sitting room waiting for all of you,” she said, and closed the door.

“I think if we’re going to have to switch the hat within the next two hours, this is our only chance,” hissed Hermione. “Are you up to it, Harry?”

“Yeah,” he said, deep in thought. “I think I have a plan worked out. You do the switching, and I’ll do the acting.”

“If you say so. How do I know when it’s time?”

“You’ll know,” said Harry, winking. “Let’s go.” Hermione handed Harry a cane, and they walked down the stairs. At last they got downstairs in the sitting room, where Mister and Mrs. Weasley were sitting down on the couch. They abruptly cut off their quiet conversation, and Harry caught a glimpse of Mrs. Weasley wiping off a tear with a hanky.

“Ah, Harry, how’s your foot?” said Mr. Weasley, trying to sound normal.

“Still hurts, Mr. Weasley,” said Harry. “Walking with a cane takes lots of practice to get used to.” Ginny helped him sit down on the couch as Hermione backed off edgily towards the fireplace, holding the fake hat under her robes. Mr. Weasley sat at a chair facing the fireplace; any attempt to switch the hats would be noticed easily.

“I’ll take the soup out of the pot – won’t be long,” said Mrs. Weasley and she disappeared into the kitchen.

“Where are the Aurors, Mr. Weasley?” said Harry, looking around.

“They’ve left,” he replied, smiling a little. “I told them to stand down, but some of them is still out there looking for Ron. I guess he does have a little secret place like I suspected – it’s quite a good hiding place in my opinion. He’ll be around soon, I expect.

“Now, you three are scheduled to return to Hogwarts tomorrow morning. I won’t be able to bring you personally because of, uh, some business I have to take care of. Hopefully you’ll meet Ron the day after tomorrow.”

All the three kids nodded, and Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen, holding a big bowl of soup with both hands, and placing it in the middle of the dining table. “Dinner’s ready, everyone, come around here.”

Harry stood up very quickly, lost his balance, and fell down to the floor, screaming in pain.

“Harry!” said Mrs. Weasley, startled. She quickly crossed the sitting room running and knelt down beside Harry to help him up, Mister Weasley doing the same. They had their full attention on Harry now who didn’t help by making himself heavier. Hermione took the opportunity and strode briskly towards the fireplace. She took the fake hat out of her robes, switching it with the real one, and ran up the stairs back to Percy’s room.

Ginny signaled Harry that Hermione had done it, and he let himself to be lifted up by Mister Weasley to sit back on the couch. “You allright, Harry?” he said, breathing heavily. Harry nodded, grimacing in pain.

“Sorry about that, Mister Weasley,” he said breathlessly. “I forgot all about my broken ankle.”

“You better sit down there until the pain goes away, Harry,” said Mrs. Weasley, brushing off dust from Harry’s robes with her hands. She looked around. “Where’s Hermione?”

“She ran up the stairs, uh, crying,” said Ginny quickly. “I reckon she couldn’t take it seeing Harry in pain…or something.”

“Oh, poor girl,” said Mrs. Weasley, looking concerned. “I think I’d better bring her some food upstairs, and tell her Harry is all right. You two just eat with Arthur, and I’ll join you all afterwards.”

“I don’t blame her,” said Mr. Weasley, pursing his lips. “Everything’s going crazy lately, I tell you.”

Harry and Ginny just nodded and started eating their dinner without any word.

***

“Are they still downstairs?” asked Hermione as Harry and Ginny entered Percy’s Room a half hour after dinner. Hermione was poring over Percy’s textbooks again.

“Yeah,” said Harry, sliding to a chair and placing his cane on the table. “Do you have the Portkey?” He wanted to make sure Hermione got it even though Ginny had told him so.

“It’s on the bed, under the blanket. Great acting there, Harry. You looked like you really stood using your bad foot…”

“I did step on the floor with my bad foot,” Harry said, wincing.

“Oh, you poor little boy,” said Hermione, extending her hand to touch Harry’s face.

“Poor little boy? Hermione, you sound worse than Ron’s mum – oh, no offense, Ginny…”

Ginny just smiled and told Hermione, “So, can we start working on the Portkey?”

Hermione pulled out a blank piece of parchment, put it flat on the table, and placed the bowler hat on top of it. “I’ll do it,” she said and pulled out her wand. She tapped it once and muttered, “Modificus Porticumium!”

Harry and Ginny bent closer to the hat, and they saw what was supposed to happen. Black lines spread out all around the blank paper from the bowler hat, and soon the parchment resembled a map. Thinking that the spell was done, Hermione took the parchment and examined it. Ginny went around the table to look at it behind her.

The point where somebody using the Portkey would pop in was centered on the map, and four walls enclosed it. About fifty feet around the enclosure were open spaces and clumps of trees at the far edge.

“It looks like somewhere in Scotland,” said Ginny. “But other than that it doesn’t say where, really.”

“I think you’re right,” said Hermione. “It looks like some kind of a shack. Voldemort’s holding Ron in a shack? Here’s the door, a fireplace, a table, and a bed.”

“What’s this right here?” said Harry, pointing at a spot about forty feet from the shack.

“I think it’s a little outhouse,” said Hermione. “The loo, maybe?”

“I say, if we’ll have to pop in unnoticed, I think we should go right here,” said Harry, pointing at the back of the outhouse, opposite the shack. “The trees are out of range, and we’ll be seen.”

“I agree,” said Ginny. “Do you really think Ron is in that shack, Harry?”

“I think so, but I won’t be surprised if he isn’t there,” said Harry. Ginny and Hermione stared at him. “I don’t believe Voldemort would hold him there. It’s too small. I think it’s just a transit point or something. Maybe Voldemort’s in another place much bigger. My guess is as good as yours. We’ll think of another plan if it turns out that way – I hope we’ll know what to do when we get there.” They all fell silent. One thing they could expect for sure is the unexpected, and they had to get ready for that.

“Don’t forget the second part of the spell,” Ginny said to break the silence. “Then we have about an hour to get ready. We have to gather everything we need.”

Hermione obliged, and pointed the tip of her wand on a spot near the outhouse. The center of the map shifted on it automatically. “I think that’s done.”

Harry inhaled deeply. This was it. In about an hour, Hermione, Ginny, and he will embark on a very dangerous task. He didn’t know what to expect once they cross over the line, but he was certain about one thing: this will be unlike everything that has happened to him for the past four years as a wizard, and that includes both of the girls. He wanted to make sure everyone was up to it.

“Last chance to back out if you feel like it,” he said without looking at anyone. “I’m not going to.”

“I’ve already made up my mind, Harry,” said Hermione earnestly. “I’m ready. We’ll watch each other’s back, okay?”

“Me, too,” said Ginny, with a very serious look on her face. She looked very brave at that point.

“Whatever happens,” continued Harry, “all of us must come back. I won’t permit anyone being left behind. We can all do this together.”

“You can count on it.”

Ginny held out a hand, and Harry and Hermione put theirs on top of hers.

“For the love of Ron,” they all said together.

16. Ankle Problem

Chapter 15

“Ankle Problem”

Harry couldn’t make it out, but he thought there was something wrong with Hermione. While they waited for the hour when they would be whisked off to wherever the Portkey might bring them to, which was only about less than thirty minutes away, she was uncharacteristically quiet.

From Harry’s vantage point looking out of Percy’s room window, Ginny was out and sitting down at the picnic table on the grounds of the Burrow deep in thought as well, but she looked calm and at peace with herself. Hermione, on the other hand, looked troubled. She hadn’t gotten out of Percy’s room since dinner, and she was seated at the study table, staring at her wand and bowler hat that were placed on top of it.

Harry couldn’t help it, so he approached her, limping. “Hermione, what’s wrong?” he said as he settled himself down on an old chair.

She didn’t look up at him, and kept staring at her wand. “I think I’m losing my confidence,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t transfigure the tea cup properly into this bowler hat. It’s never happened before. I tried to do some simple spells minutes ago, too. Some don’t work at all – I don’t understand why - “

“People make mistakes, Hermione,” said Harry. “Even someone as perfect as you,” Harry tried to flatter her, but that didn’t make her feel any better.

“We’re going to a dangerous place in less than an hour, Harry. What if I don’t deliver when a simple spell might count?”

“I guess you’ll just have to concentrate a little more,” said Harry thoughtfully. “That’s what you keep saying to me when I don’t do spells the way they’re supposed to work, right? So what kind of spells did you try that didn’t work?”

“The banishing spell, for example” Hermione said as she stood up and walked towards a chair in the middle of the room. She pointed her wand at it and muttered, “Reducto!” The chair flew aside and landed hard on the wooden floor like it was supposed to do.

“That was perfect!” Harry said while clapping his hands. “See? Probably you weren’t concentrating enough.” Still there was something much deeper bothering Hermione because instead of smiling, she slumped back on her chair.

“Is everything all right there?” called Mrs. Weasley from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, we’re just fine here, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry loudly so that she could hear him. “We’re just practicing some more spells…sorry!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind, dear,” answered Mrs. Weasley.

“You believe in superstition, Harry?” Hermione asked hesitantly when Mrs. Weasley seemed to have gone down again.

“Not at all,” Harry replied. “Wait, don’t tell me you think – “

“Yes, I never make mistakes when using magic, at least after I master it. When I do, something bad usually happens.”

“I never knew about that, and I’ve never known you to be superstitious,” said Harry. “Then again, I don’t remember you making any mistakes with magic at all except when you start learning about it like you said, so how can you think about signs and omens?”

“Remember the Polyjuice Potion back at second year? After that, I got petrified, remember?” said Hermione, her eyes widening as she tried to prove her point.

“Yeah, I couldn’t forget it,” said Harry, laughing a bit. “Sure, you goofed right there big time, but don’t forget it was the first time you ever tried to make the potion, too, so I think that doesn’t count. Besides, the potion worked the way it was supposed to – only that you added the wrong last ingredient.”

“Yeah, maybe, but I’m having a bad feeling about this,” said Hermione as she exhaled lots of air. “I having this nagging feeling about something going wrong – for me, at least.“

“Then you think we should call it off?” said Harry slowly. “You’re starting to scare me again.”

“No, of course not,” Hermione said gently, bowing her head. “I think we should be extra careful out there, Harry.” However, Harry didn’t really believe Hermione was being superstitious. He saw right through her that she was scared of facing up to Voldemort, at least about the possibility of it.

“That’s true for excursions like where we’re going,” replied Harry after a few seconds, reaching for her chin to lift her head gently to look into her eyes. “Hermione, I know you’re dreading to meet Voldemort. You don’t have to be ashamed to admit it.”

“That’s part of it. What’s it like when you face him?” Hermione said quietly as she looked up at Harry.

“Scared at first,” said Harry, looking around the room as he searched his mind for his past encounters with Voldemort. “But then I’d begin to wrack up the courage to face up to him. If you just give up easily, you’re good as dead. But if you decide to fight him and live, you’ll never be the same – but you’ll emerge a stronger wizard.”

“Everybody says no one who has crossed him ever survived,” said Hermione, shuddering a little. “You’re the only one who had met him three times and lived. I don’t know if I could do that at the first time.”

“Look, I’m no better than you, yet I’m still alive, see?” Harry said reassuringly. “Together, we can survive him. Like I said, we only need to get Ron and get out. For all we know, he might not be even there at all.”

Hermione smiled a little and breathed deeply as she tried to recompose herself. “Yeah, I know we can’t leave Ron there all by himself. The thought of it is so much to bear. I’d rather die without one of you.” This brought a big smile for Harry.

“Me, too,” said Ginny suddenly, leaning against the doorway. “Sorry about being abrupt, but it’s almost time. You’re not alone, Hermione, I’m also scared to go. But I feel responsible for what happened to my brother – taking part of this is the least I could do.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” added Harry to Hermione, “I’ve never been this scared since the Tournament last year, too –“

“Oh, what am I thinking?” said Hermione. “If I’m keeping us scared all the time I don’t think it will do us any good, of course. Sorry.”

“That’s rubbish,” Harry laughed. “The feeling won’t go away, at least until everything’s over. It’s more dangerous trying to deny it. We’ll get over it – I promise you.”

“Dad’s getting jittery, too,” said Ginny. “He’s a big boy, mind.”

“How’d he handle it when he realizes we’ve gone instead of him?” asked Harry.

“I think it would be time to change the house’s leaky roof, then,” Ginny said, laughing nervously. “He’ll blow his top, I’m sure, but that’s nothing to worry about than what we’re about to do.”

“Two minutes to go,” announced Hermione. “Make sure we have everything we need. Wands at the ready. Hands on the hat. On, on.” Harry stood up and put on his robe, the same robe he wore from Hogwarts. He hadn’t cleaned his pockets ever since; his wand was in one of them, and the pocket portkey he had completely forgotten he’d ever owned. The three of them touched the bowler hat and waited.

“Oh, there’s one more thing I forgot to do,” Hermione said suddenly, with twenty seconds left to go. Harry and Ginny stared at her breathlessly, knowing that she might be left behind if she didn’t hurry up for whatever she had remembered to do. Hermione held out her wand and pointed it on Harry’s ankle and muttered “Emendo!”

Harry’s ankle healed instantly. Before he could exclaim something at Hermione, the portkey activated, and they were spinning…spinning…

-o0o-

Thud!

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny popped in and landed hard on the soft green grass. They had been whisked to the Portkey’s destination successfully. The place was exactly what it looked like in the map. There was a small-dilapidated shack in the center of the forest clearing, about fifty feet from a small outhouse just beside Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. Darkness had fallen, and they could hear nothing but the wind and innumerable animals or insects making their own noise.

Harry tried to get up as quickly as possible and he hissed, “Hermione!”

Hermione, who was also trying to get up at the same time, looked a little apprehensive. “Harry, I know what you want to say, and I’m sorry! I had to do it!” she said, keeping her voice bossy but quiet.

“You knew how to fix my ankle all along and you didn’t tell me?” he said incredulously.

“I couldn’t let you go alone!”

“I can’t believe you lied to me!”

“I never lied to you, Harry,” Hermione now with an imploring look on her face. “I just – I just kept quiet about it! For good reason - ”

“Same thing!”

“Harry please – “

“SHHHH!!!” interrupted Ginny. “Keep it down, you two. I think I see someone coming.” The three of them ran quickly behind the outhouse and peered around it, trying to take a good look of whoever was coming.

“It looks a lot like Graham,” Harry said quietly. The man walked nearer to the shack, which was illuminated inside by a few candles, and he took out from his pocket some keys and unlocked the padlock on the front door as he stepped on the porch. Seconds later he cursed loudly, slamming the door behind him and walked off towards the forest, fuming mad. He was only around for a short time and he seemed not to be coming back.

“Was that him?” asked Ginny, looking up at Harry as her head was at the very bottom of the stack of three.

“It was him,” said Harry, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know what made him angry. “As if he was expecting something and it didn’t come.”

“The door was locked from the outside,” said Hermione from behind. “You were supposed to land inside that shack, Harry. It was definitely a trap – not an exchange as we were led to believe!”

Harry pretended not to hear Hermione, and he walked off toward the shack after a good five minutes without saying any word. Ginny wanted to say something to Harry, but Hermione stopped her. Both of them followed Harry, but they were the only ones who seemed to be doing it cautiously – he just walked straight to the shack recklessly, wand pointed down on the ground.

Harry went inside the shack first, and looked around. Despite it being old, it looked like someone who was living alone might be comfortable with it. There was a made-up bed at the corner, a small dining table with a single chair, a stove and a chimney, and a little pantry that apparently was well supplied with food. A plaque on the wall with Graham’s name on it told Harry that this was really the Death Eater’s house.

“Let’s start looking for clues,” said Harry without looking at either Ginny or Hermione. “I want to find something that’ll help us find where Ron is.”

“I’ll keep a look-out for anyone at the porch,” said Hermione. She waited for an acknowledgement from Harry, but she didn’t get one to her dismay. She was getting increasingly hurt about Harry snubbing her. Ginny felt there was something getting wrong between them, but she couldn’t say anything.

It only took a couple of minutes to turn the whole shack upside-down and they didn’t find anything. Harry expressed his disappointment loudly to himself, while Ginny was careful not to talk out of fear of a sudden outburst from him. This wasn’t the Harry that she knew, but she understood how it felt when two best friends had some kind of a fight – neither one would say sorry first.

Hermione just walked in casually towards the bed and looked under it. She ran her hands on the underside and soon enough she fished out a piece of parchment and unfolded it. “If you allowed yourself to relax, Harry,” she said gently, but enough to get back at him, “you’d remember to look at the obvious places.”

She placed the parchment on the table and it was some kind of a map showing the path to a place called Xanthius. They didn’t know what the name was for, but if it weren’t for the stamp of the Dark Mark on it, they might have thought this was insignificant. There was a long pause when nobody seemed to want to talk. Obviously, there was now a strain in the group this early on the mission.

“Harry, again I’m really sorry,” Hermione started. “But you must understand – “

“I understand better than you do,” Harry interjected, and Hermione fell silent. “You didn’t act like a best friend when you kept quiet - ”

Harry stopped talking and shut his eyes to try to calm himself down because he felt that he was really overacting. Hermione let out a dry sob.

He allowed himself, rather reluctantly, to think about it. Of course, Hermione kept something out from him that he thought best friends weren’t supposed to do, but he slowly realized that Hermione meant well. He remembered he was being stupid back at the Burrow, insisting that he’d go rescue Ron alone, even with a broken ankle. Even without the broken ankle it was still stupid to do so, and Hermione was right. It was very difficult to admit even if he saw what might have been if he just went alone: the spot where the portkey pointed to was inside the shack that was locked from the outside. It was undeniably a trap.

Pride had gotten the better of Harry, he admitted to himself, and he failed to see reason (or refused to listen to reason) why Hermione had to keep quiet about knowing how to fix his ankle until the last minute. If she had done so, then he could have been a real goner earlier. Now he felt extremely stupid again for being so insensitive to her, who was as always unfailingly loyal to him, and he should have thanked her for being so rather than rebuking her. What he did wasn’t right, and like pulling his own teeth out of his gums, he had to say sorry.

Harry looked up and opened his eyes slowly to say, “Hermione, I’m so sorry for –“

He stopped as soon as he opened his mouth. Hermione wasn’t there where he had last seen her. Ginny wasn’t around inside the shack, either. Harry ran out to the porch, and he saw Hermione running towards the forest with Ginny running after her a few feet behind her, calling her name.

“Oh, Hermione,” Harry moaned, and he sprinted after her, Ginny in between them. As soon as Hermione disappeared into the thick grove of trees, Ginny stopped and stomped her feet on the ground, looking incensed. She then saw Harry almost a few feet up to her, and she didn’t wait to tell him with gritted teeth, “Harry, you’re such a JERK!”

“I know! You don’t need to tell me twice,” he said with concern drawn in his eyes and screeched to a halt beside Ginny. “I see she took it so hard.”

“Of course! She was just trying to protect you! Like all best friends do! Where do you suppose she’s going?” said Ginny looking at the edge of the forest where she last saw a glimpse of Hermione’s bushy brown hair disappear.

“Somewhere alone where she could cry all day,” said Harry knowingly. “C’mon, let’s go after her before she gets lost in the forest!”

They both started to run calling after Hermione. The forest was thick, and Hermione could have turned direction a few times already to avoid the thick tree trunks. They didn’t stop calling her name, Harry saying sorry hundreds of times. It took them a good ten minutes of repeating the process until they started feeling tired and panic to set in.

“Arghhh! What’re we going to do?” said Ginny. “Instead of just rescuing Ron, we’d have to look for Hermione, too.”

“Oh, this is all my fault!” Harry wailed, pounding on a tree, bruising his knuckles. He leaned against it, sliding his whole body to the ground despite the rough bark.

Just then, they both heard a high-pitched scream that seemed to come from just within a hundred feet through the forest, followed by a deep growling sound.

“Oh, no!” said Harry. It was definitely Hermione, and she was in trouble. Harry and Ginny looked up, trying to figure out which direction it came from. Hermione screamed a second time, which helped Harry find her bearings.

“This way, to the west,” Harry said, and without waiting for Ginny’s reply, he ran again, dodging thick trees, going up and down the mounds of thick roots. Hermione screamed again, and this time, Harry and Ginny were sure they were going the right direction because the sounds became louder.

“Hermione, we’re coming! Hold on!” Ginny called. She and Harry had their wands out, ready for anything.

The forest seemed to be thinning a little, and they got out into a hollow, a very wide hollow. Hermione was at the center of it, down on the ground on her belly, and was inching herself away as she looked back to a very large and angry fully-grown dragon.

“It can’t be a Norwegian Ridgeback!” said Harry weakly. “I wish it were only a Troll!”

“Can we stop it?” asked Ginny urgently, as the dragon was stomping dangerously towards Hermione, almost on top of her. Hermione had her wand pointed at the dragon, but didn’t seem to perform any spells. It only meant one thing: she was absolutely petrified with fear - just like the old times.

“Aim for the eyes! Let’s use the Conjunctivitus Curse!” Harry said.

“What, give the Dragon a pink eye?!?” Ginny said, puzzled.

Ignoring Ginny, Harry took a few running steps nearer that Dragon and pointed his wand at its right eye. “Conjuctivus!” Pink light whooshed from the end of Harry’s wand and hit its mark. The Dragon screamed as it tried desperately to rub its burning eyes with its scaly wings. Getting the idea, Ginny tried the same spell on the left eye, but the Dragon saw her and dodged the beam of light.

The Dragon screeched, snorting out a large ball of fire towards them, and Harry managed to perform a very effective shield charm just in time to deflect it away harmlessly.

“A second layer of the charm would be a good idea!” said Harry to Ginny. “Then we’ll get close to Hermione and get her.” Ginny nodded and wrapped herself and Harry with it. They started to move towards Hermione, who was still on the same spot under the towering Dragon. She had already fainted. The Dragon snorted out a few too many fireballs towards Harry and Ginny, but they had no effect. They were getting closer to his prey, and there was only one thing it could now.

To Harry and Ginny’s horror, the Dragon clasped Hermione with its large claws, trapping her inside of it, and began to flap its large wings. Hermione didn’t scream now, and Harry hoped she wasn’t dead. The Dragon was obviously trying to get away!

“NOOOO!” Harry screamed, and he tried to slow it down with the Impediment Curse, but all it could do was just slow it down, not stop it. It was just too big for him. The Dragon gained altitude, holding Hermione with its claws, and began to pick up speed until it was only but a dark patch against the moonlit night. Ginny was left frozen, her mouth hung open as she just stood there, staring up to the sky, shocked at what had just transpired. Harry fell to his knees and dropped his still-smoking wand on the soft green grass, lost for words.

-o0o-

In Xanthius, the door in Jack’s room clicked and opened. There were two Death Eaters with their masks on standing along the corridor and looking inside. “Mr. Chadron, come with us,” one of them said.

“Say hello to You-Know-Who for me, Jack,” said Ron, who was listening in and peeking at the small barred window. Jack didn’t answer, stood straight, and let himself be led to wherever the Death Eaters might be bringing him. They didn’t hold him, but they occasionally steered him along a few passages. Finally they had reached a large anteroom after they climbed up the stairs. They didn’t have to wait for something else; the huge oak doors opened by themselves. He could recognize it was a throne room through these doors, and he could make out someone sitting on the large throne with a scepter. It was none other than the Dark Lord himself.

Yet he wasn’t like Jack had pictured him. He looked like a monster – like a snake. And he didn’t look happy at all. In fact, he was looking daggers as he was being brought in front of him.

“Is it he?” Voldemort said slowly, and Jack Chadron couldn’t understand why he was getting afraid.

“Yes, this is Jack Chadron, my Lord,” said another Death Eater with his mask on and he was standing beside Voldemort. It was his benefactor, Lucius Malfoy. Another Death Eater was also standing beside Voldemort. He looked the same as the others who had their masks on, and the only thing that made him stand out was that he had a silver hand.

Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it to Malfoy. “Crucio!”

Malfoy slumped down on the cold stone floor screaming in pain. Jack opened his mouth in shock. Voldemort allowed about a minute of subjecting Malfoy to agonizing pain before he spoke. “Didn’t I make it clear that I do not tolerate failures, Lucius?” he said lazily. All the other Death Eaters in the throne room, about seven in all, were visibly shaking. Especially Jack.

Lucius’ agony had stopped the moment Voldemort let go of his curse. “Because of your miscalculation, Lucius, the Mudblood lover Dumbledore is not dead as we speak. You deserve more of that.”

“Y-yes, m-my Lord,” said Lucius, his white long hair astray, and grunting as he still lay down on the floor. “I beg your forgiveness.”

“I expected success above all else for that task, simple as it was,” Voldemort said, as he shifted his stare at Jack, who was now kneeling double bent in front him, his crutch lay forgotten on the floor. “Harry Potter is not here in front of me as I had envisioned. Instead I see a lowly student who foolishly thinks he is worthy enough to serve me, but yet had failed me right from the start.”

“I-I am your most f-faithful, my Lord,” Jack said, looking up at him, wracking up the courage to speak. “I d-did everything for you!”

“Silence!” Voldemort commanded. “Your ineptness has forced me to deviate from my grand plans. That, itself, does not prove your worthiness to me. Crucio!”

Jack was almost certain he’d never ever be subjected to this terrible curse, not from the Dark Lord, at least, but the reality of it was so overwhelming. Voldemort didn’t let him take a breath, and he lost count of the time as he agonized in extreme pain. It looked like ages until he was let go by Voldemort, for he was subjected to it to the threshold of death if it went on for more than a second too long. Jack just lay there on the floor, like Malfoy, fully conscious, but in extreme pain that usually lingers with the Crucatius Curse.

“You, too, deserve more than that, Chadron,” Voldemort said, sniffing. “I never needed any of your services, you worthless fool! And never will be; however, I have some uses for you. That time will come and it will mean the end of you. Foolish of you to think ahead of me and assume how I ‘reward’ my faithful. Take him away!”

With the wave of his wand, two startled Death Eaters obediently went to Jack Chadron and dragged him back towards his cell. The moment Jack Chadron had dreamed of meeting Voldemort only lasted less than five minutes, and it was the five minutes that he’ll never ever forget. He’d been had by Lucius Malfoy.

As soon as Chadron was out of the chamber, Voldemort pointed his wand at the still-slumped Malfoy and forced him to stand up painfully. “You have miscalculated again, Lucius,” he said as Malfoy rose slowly. “Using others to do what I require of you was not what I had in mind. You know I demand your direct participation on these noble tasks I give to you. It’s not a sign of a faithful servant, hiding behind the cloak of anonymity in case something goes wrong. Yes, that will spare you of the wrath of the lesser wizards, of Mudbloods - but not mine. Do I have to remind you who is the greatest sorcerer in the world?”

“No need, my Lord,” grunted Malfoy painfully as his toes skimmed the floor. “You are undeniably the greatest sorcerer ever known in history.” He wanted to remind Voldemort that he actually said he didn’t care how he did his task as long as caused the death of Dumbledore, but he decided against it. His method failed anyway.

“Very good,” Voldermort said as he straightened up on his seat. He released Malfoy from his spell. “But not so many people will believe it while Albus Dumbledore keeps on breathing. I’ve missed my best chance of taking care of him once and for all, and that will change everything that I have expected to happen supposedly by this time.” Malfoy didn’t want to say anything anymore.

“Will you be willing to give up your – let us say – years of investment on that big head Chadron, in service of me, Lucius?”

“Yes, I do, my Lord,” said Malfoy in a heartbeat. “Wholeheartedly.”

Voldemort laughed. “It pleases me when people forget their former burden in a snap of my finger. That will be enough for now.” He turned to Wormtail. “I believe you have someone for me?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” and Wormtail strode to the chamber door and opened it. Daedelus Lowrie walked confidently towards Voldemort and bowed curtly in front of him. He didn’t look like a Death Eater as he wasn’t wearing the usual hooded robes and mask.

“You may speak, Daedelus,” said Voldemort.

“Thank you, my Lord,” said Daedelus. “May I present to you my most trusted assistant, Graham Denton. He has someone that Harry Potter cares for.”

Voldemort shifted expectantly on his seat. Graham went in as he was announced, dragging Ron with him by the arm, whose wrists were chained in front of him. Ron saw Voldemort for the first time ever, and he opened his mouth in horror but no sound came out. Harry had never described to him how Voldemort looked like, and for good reason. He was just too horrible to talk about.

“Ah, you’re Arthur Weasley’s youngest son,” Voldemort said. “I welcome you to my newly built abode, the Xanthius,” he mocked as he waved his hand around. “Feel honored as you are the very first of your kind to see it.” Ron didn’t feel like it, but he was not stupid to say so.

“My Lord,” Daedelus continued, “we have felt that it is of your utmost priority that Harry Potter must be brought to you, therefore we have taken the initiative to help make it much easier and possible with the capture of Weasley’s son, and I hope we have your blessing.”

“You’re turning out to be a good servant, Deadelus,” said Voldemort, which gave Daedelus a big smile, and sneers from Malfoy and a few Death Eaters.

“We believe that Harry Potter and a few of his friends have already arrived in the grounds of Xanthius,” said Deadelus, and Ron snapped his head at him; Voldemort was pleased with the news. “Our skillful divinatory is happy to report that one of them has apparently been captured and eaten by a dragon, and that certainly would diminish his will to fight you while he mourns his first loss.”

Ron shook when he heard that. He had no idea who Deadelus was referring to. He didn’t know who else would come with Harry aside from Hermione. It could have been Fred or George, but still one loss is one too many, and he cared for any one of them. But what he feared most for was Hermione. He didn’t want to believe it just yet – maybe the Death Eater was just trying to look good to Voldemort, but the power of suggestion was just too awful to ignore. What if it were true?

Voldemort laughed heartily. “I see I won’t be disappointed tonight as I believed so earlier. Good work, Daedelus. Brave of Harry Potter to come and confront me for this worthless boy; only foolish.” He turned his gaze to Ron. “That is only the beginning when you go against me, Weasley, there will be more to come – I’ll make sure you witness it for Harry Potter soon when he falls.”

“Shall we capture him now, my Lord?” asked Daedelus. “We have already pinpointed his location, and are ready to move once you give the word.”

“Not yet – allow him an hour to grieve, not that I care about his feelings, but it will surely torment him more. It will make him feel weaker, and that will be an advantage for me. He has nowhere else to go, but here, in Xanthius.

“You may go now, Daedelus,” concluded Voldemort with a wave of his wand. “I will tell you when to move, and bring him to me. You must realize what will happen to you if you fail such a very simple task.”

“We do, my Lord,” said Deadelus bowing with Graham and they left. Two other Death Eaters dragged Ron back to his cell. There, he spent his time alone worrying –and dreading - who might have died for him.

-o0o-

It’s been more than an hour since they had lost Hermione. Harry and Ginny hadn’t exited the hollow ever since, and they both just sat there, now hugging and staring at the bright night sky thinking about her.

“I can’t believe she’s gone, Harry,” said Ginny, as new tears fell down on her cheeks. Hermione’s wand lay on the ground in front of them.

Harry kept silent, throat to tight to speak. His mind replayed, over and over again, vivid memories of his times and adventures with Hermione. He couldn’t believe it, either, of course. He wanted to think that Hermione had somehow survived somewhere, but knowing dragons, there was no chance at all she could have escaped, especially without her wand. Dragons are vicious, dangerous creatures. They were known to eat even human beings; the thought of that happening to his best friend was very difficult to accept.

What’s worse was that Harry firmly believed he was the reason why this happened. If he hadn’t overacted over a simple thing like his ankle, which would have been easily settled by a mere smile to Hermione, this would not have come to pass. Worse still, that with their years of companionship, trials, triumphs, and her recent sacrifices to help clear him and Ron for the Ministry, the last thing Hermione may have thought was that he was angry and ungrateful to her. And that was why he could not bring to forgive himself, now or ever.

Harry just wanted to go home. He wanted to forget everything – everything that had ever happened to him for the last five years. He wished he never knew Hermione or Ron, and believe it all were just a very good dream to have been away from Privet Drive. He didn’t know what to do next at the same time.

He had at the moment lost his determination to rescue Ron and he really felt it would have been better to die right now – he didn’t care at all for anything else anymore. For few more minutes, Harry and Ginny kept staring outward.

“Harry, I know how you loved Hermione,” said Ginny, breaking off from him. “But please stop blaming yourself. Ron still needs our help – if we just give up then, well, Hermione’s life would mean nothing.”

“I feel lost, Ginny,” Harry sobbed. “It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t act so childishly.”

“She’d want us to save Ron, too, I know it, Harry,” Ginny said. “You care for your other best friend, too, right? If you’ll call it quits now, then you’ve lost another one. Will that make anything else better for you?”

“No, but it’ll never be the same without Hermione either” Harry said, wiping tears off his cheek. “I’m so afraid of being reminded of her when I’d be with Ron.”

“Harry,” Ginny said, looking at Harry straight into his eyes. “If you give up on Ron now, believe me, it’ll be worse for you. At least he’d be there to help you heal. Please, Harry, my brother is in mortal peril, and we have to save him – for Hermione – for all of us! Even if we die in the process – I don’t care - at least we didn’t fail him. Right?”

“Die – “ Harry said quietly. Dying would be good, he thought again. At least that would end his misery once and for all. Hermione had said she’d rather die without either him or Ron, and she probably knew what she was talking about. But Harry didn’t want to take his own life with his own hands – he knew it was absolutely wrong to do so. He simply had to present himself to Voldemort – he would be more than happy to do it for him, and that would certainly be the end of everything. However he didn’t have the chance to dwell further in his death wish.

Ginny screamed, startling Harry. They both weren’t alone now and were flooded with light. About more than dozen hooded and masked figures were closing in on them. Ginny stood up and reached for her wand frantically inside her robes, but she was caught in a stunning spell from one of the Death Eaters, and Harry felt her collapse on the ground. Harry earlier had been wishing he’d be dead, but seeing Ginny now defenseless in front of him now gave him second thoughts.

He didn’t want them to get to her even if he knew it was he who they wanted. Harry didn’t want her to suffer the same fate as Cedric Diggory, his former rival in last year’s tournament that Voldemort had ordered killed. It took a moment for Harry to realize again that he had failed Hermione and Ginny. He should have led them to safety at the very start, and his selfishness had endangered their lives. Still, he had to do something – anything!

He knelt down beside Ginny and tried to lift her with one hand and point his wand with the other to their attackers – maybe there was still a chance that he could get out with her, but the Death Eater with the silver hand – Wormtail - denied him that, disarming him, sending Harry down painfully on the ground. Harry had managed to say sorry to an unconscious Ginny before he was forcefully lifted up on his feet and brought to Xanthius with her.

17. The Temptation of Harry

Chapter 16

“The Temptation of Harry”

At least two Death Eaters had handled Harry by the arms as they marched towards Xanthius. Harry was blindfolded, and initially he tried to count how many footsteps it took for him to get to where they were bringing him, but along the way he’d lost count and gave up. That was an hour ago, he reckoned. He felt there were more than a dozen people in the group, though he couldn’t really tell because none of them had talked from the hollow. He also didn’t know where Ginny is but he was willing to bet one of the Death Eaters may be carrying her. He couldn’t be sure if he’d be happy to know if they left her alone from where they came from. This place, wherever they were, was a very dangerous place for a fourteen-year-old girl especially if she was alone.

Protesting to his captors didn’t do any good. They weren’t answering. They were probably walking on a road, he thought, because he never felt grass as he walked blindly, just dirt. Soon, Harry could feel they were going down slope and he’d stepped on something wooden. He could hear water rushing underneath him – he reckoned they were in a castle somewhere, or maybe on a bridge. The Death Eater in front of him yelled, “Open the gate!”

There was a creaking sound, just like a drawbridge made. He was now sure to be near a castle, but whose castle, he didn’t know. He felt very chilly, just like the feeling he had years ago in the presence of a Dementor. If they were around, then this may be really Voldemort’s. He felt suddenly depressed as he moved on, and he was certain he was passing by them. Then the temperature seemed to have gotten warmer as he was led deeper into something cavernous. The sounds they made echoed around endlessly and he could smell burnt torches until finally he heard locks being released; he was thrown on the cold damp floor pretty hard and he heard the door slamming.

“Harry? Ginny!” said a voice they instantly recognized as Ron’s.

“Ron!” Harry said, and he quickly removed his blindfold; it took a little while for his eyes to adjust to the torchlight.

“Harry, it’s so good to see you,” said Ron while he helped Harry to sit up on the floor despite his injuries, “But I wish you hadn’t come for me – I’m not worth it.” Ron then moved towards Ginny, who was still motionless on the floor, and lifted her head to rest on his thigh.

“Hermione and I decided we had to come for you,” Harry said, and he paused when he remembered Hermione.

“I saw You-Know-Who tonight,” said Ron, shuddering. “He didn’t do anything to me, but the mere sight of him was torture enough. We’re in a castle he calls ‘Xanthius’.”

“So this is Xanthius,” Harry said, looking around. “It doesn’t look too hospitable, though.”

“What happened to Ginny?”

“She’s out,” said Harry as he looked at her. “Stunned.”

Ron shook his head. “Why did she ever have to come with you?”

“I’m sorry, Ron, but she insisted,” Harry sighed and tightened his lips. “She felt responsible for putting your life in danger. I refused at first, but she’s very clever and she gave me no choice.”

“I’ll have a word with her when she wakes up.” Ron fell silent for a second, like he hesitated to ask his next question. “Harry, I heard one of the Death Eaters seeing one of you being eaten by a dragon. I didn’t want to believe it, but did somebody else go with you aside from Ginny?”

Harry’s face fell deeper even if it had been already at its lowest point. The memory of Hermione being held by that dragon was too much to bear – but worse, eaten? No words seemed to come out of his mouth even if he tried to start telling Ron about it. He didn’t know where to start, or if he did, could he finish telling without breaking down again in grief?

“You allright, Harry?” said Ron, increasingly getting nervous. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot after I heard about it. I thought it was – it was – could it be – “

Harry still couldn’t talk, and he wished Ron had the courage to say the name. He couldn’t say “yes” to him yet, because he had no idea whom Ron thought it was.

“C-could it be – Hermione?” Ron grunted, now dreading an answer.

Harry’s tears fell before he could nod to him, and Ron knew his silence was a sign of confirmation. Ron shook his head, his breath broke into sobs, and they both embraced. Harry pounded his knuckles at Ron’s back a few times to keep his friend strong in his grief. “Let it out, Ron – “ Harry choked, and Ron howled against Harry’s jumper at the shoulder, wetting it with tears and more.

But Ron didn’t take long to break away from Harry. In fact he pushed himself off and seemed to go into a collision course on the wall. Harry suspected Ron wanted to hurt himself by pounding his fists on the wall, like he would have done if it were him, but only that he heard groans of pain.

“HERMIONE’S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU – YOU EVIL BASTARD!“ Ron screamed while punching something – or someone - within the same cell. Harry could not tell who Ron was hurting because he was in a dark corner.

“Ron, who’s that you’re talking to?” Harry said as he stood up and approached the spot where Ron disappeared. He heard more fists meeting more flesh, and whoever was at the wrong end may be hurting real bad because he was groaning. More sounds of knuckles hit their marks were made deep in the dark. But Ron soon flew backwards and landed hard on his bottom side, like someone had pushed him.

Ron was getting real wild. He looked deranged by his face and Harry had to restrain him; he went behind Ron, grabbed him and pulled him back. Ron made furious swings with his fists in mid-air, then Harry saw who he was fighting. Jack Chadron emerged from the shadows, his lip bleeding, eyes closed by beating, and his left face bloated and blue – and with a missing leg. It looked like Ron had worked on him already before this. Chadron didn’t look angry, but he had a pleading look on his face to try to calm Ron down.

When he saw Chadron, Harry’s vision suddenly turned darker. He didn’t realize it until a split second later that he had thrown Ron back behind him and he got to about a foot away in front of Chadron, lunging at his chest and pushing his whole weight against him. They fell together, Harry forward and Chadron backwards as they sunk again to the darkest part of the cell. Harry didn’t care if he got hurt in the process. He only cared to hurt Jack Chadron as much as he can until he felt tired of beating him – dead or not.

Ron again joined in the fray; Jack Chadron tried to fend off the relentless bombardment of fists and knuckles going his way using his arms and elbows, and he could not defend himself any longer as his whole body couldn’t take it anymore. “Stop! Ugh, Harry, I-I’ve been deceived!” Chadron said, as Harry pounded Jack’s head painfully on the floor.

Harry and Ron refused to listen. They still threw their punches and sometimes they landed on the hard stone floor, fracturing a bone somewhere – until their strength began to ebb away and they couldn’t hurt Chadron anymore. All of them panted, and Ron tried to lift Chadron with his shirt up from the floor but he couldn’t do it. He was just too tired.

The cell door opened and three Death Eaters entered with their wands out. They all pulled Harry, Ron, and Chadron away from each other without saying any word, throwing the former Head Boy in a different spot and separating him from the rest with some kind of an invisible shield. The Death Eaters went out as soon as it was done, and locked the door again behind them.

The three boys just sat on the floor, panting still. Harry and Ron looked like they had daggers from their eyes flying towards Chadron. Because of his wrath, Ron seemed to have forgotten to mourn for Hermione. Jack on the other hand avoided looking at their eyes. It took a while before they all seemed to have relaxed a little, and Harry shouted, “How dare you show your face at us after all you’ve done!”

“I know how you feel,” Jack breathed.

“YOU BLOODY DON’T KNOW HOW WE FEEL!” Ron roared. He was beginning to cry again not because he was grieving, but because of another wave of anger trying to get out of him.

“I-I can explain,” said Jack, lifting himself up off the floor. “I severely regret what I did – “

“Regret!” Harry growled. “Regret! Can it undo everything now!?! Huh? You almost made Hogwarts fall to Voldemort – you don’t know how many lives you’d have destroyed if you succeeded! And now our best friend is dead! Does that make you happy at all?”

“No, absolutely not now. I should have not been so naïve by wishing for greatness under the Dark – I mean, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” said Jack remorsefully.

“You’d be a moron to believe that!” Ron said severely. “Greatness under You-Know-Who? Who told you such rubbish?”

“My benefactor all these years – this is all his idea, and I was so very foolish to have believed him.”

“WHO!?!”

“Lucius Malfoy.”

This was no surprise for Harry and Ron. They always thought Lucius Malfoy was a real evil git right from the start. But here they have heard testimony from a co-conspirator of Lucius’ direct hand on this. They wished someone from the Ministry had heard what Chadron had said, and they’d get rid of Malfoy and his son off of their lives for good.

“So it was him who gave you all the instructions? The letters – were those his handwriting?” said Harry angrily.

“Yes. He used my debt of honor to do all his dirty work for him, and he abandoned and disavowed me when it was time to face He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. All his promises were empty – recognition and membership to the Death Eater circle. My undying loyalty and obedience were actually nothing to him.”

“Harumphhh!” said Ron, staring at Chadron. “And look what you got as a reward – the Crucatius Curse. Serves you right!”

“I know I deserve more than that. I’m very sorry, to all of you,” said Jack, his voice breaking. “Harry, I would give anything not to have done what I did - “

“You’re sorry because you didn’t get what you want!” Harry retorted.

“No. No, that’s not true at all,” replied Jack. “I’m very sorry because I’ve allowed myself to be used by evil wizards - to be seduced by the dark side and wreak suffering to all those whom I affected. What would I do to regain your trust and return to your side?”

Harry snorted because he could not believe how lightly Jack took all of this. How dare he just think of going back to what was once like without paying for his crimes, like nothing had happened? It just proved his naïveté, and it just showed he never took a minute in his life to think about the consequences of his actions. Harry believed Chadron just felt alone all of a sudden, betrayed by the people he revered, and condemned by the people he hurt. Either way, he had nowhere to turn to. And that was probably good as far as Harry was concerned.

“You can’t do anything anymore about it,” said Harry flatly. “You’ll never earn it whatever you’ll do, Chadron. I’m sure the whole of Hogwarts will want to strangle you the moment they see you. You’ll just have to face the facts. I wish you just hanged yourself and went to hell, and even that isn’t enough for everybody!”

“I don’t blame you for hating me for the rest your life, Harry,” said Jack, bowing his head down at the floor. “You may deride me all you want, but deep inside I know I’ve repented.”

“For whatever good it’ll do!” spat Ron. “You shut up, Chadron! I don’t want to hear another word from you anymore!” For once, Jack heeded Ron and kept quiet. Harry kept staring at Jack while Ron pulled him away towards Ginny, who was still unconscious.

“He’s not so cocky anymore like before,” said Ron to Harry, looking to Chadron at the corner of his eyes. “Earlier he was acting like he was the most important person in the world. He was getting unbearable! ‘The Dark Lord is going to love me,’” Ron mocked. “He then got the nastiest surprise in his whole miserable life – that bloody idiot!”

“How – how did you know about the dragon, Ron?” said Harry as soon as he and Ron calmed down again.

“I heard them talk about it in front of You-Know-Who,” Ron replied. “They seem to know what’s going on all around this castle. There’s an invisible eye at every spot, like. They already knew you were coming, Harry. They knew where you were and Ginny. Trying to get in this castle undetected was wishful thinking. They’ll probably pounce on you whenever they wanted to. Like if we tried to escape, it’ll be futile.”

“Looks like so,” Harry sighed, looking around the walls.

“Where’s your wand, Harry?”

“Out there, with Ginny’s - and Hermione’s. They didn’t bother to collect them from the hollow, like they’re sure I wouldn’t get there at all.”

“Hey, did they ever discover your pocket Portkey?” Ron asked expectantly.

“The Pocket Portkey?” said Harry slowly, now remembering about the inconspicuous little gadget. He then frantically felt for it in his pockets, hoping that he had it and his shoulder dropped when he found them all empty. “Maybe it’s in my robe pocket, back in the hollow,” he groaned.

“Now I don’t know how we’d get it from here, damn castle!”

“Maybe we could figure something else how to get out.”

“Not in a hundred years, I suppose. This is a fortress, and it’s probably crawling with Death Eaters at every corner. Then there’re the Dementors – we can’t go past them without being felt at all.”

Ginny moaned and shifted on the floor, and she was coming to. Harry and Ron hurried up to her and helped her get up.

“Ginny, you okay?”

“Ron?” she said groggily. “How – where are we?”

“We’re in You-Know-Who’s dungeons, Ginny,” Harry said, dropping his breath again in regret. “We’re prisoners.”

“Darn, is that who I think it is?” Ginny said, scowling and staring drowsily on Jack Chadron, who looked up at her and bowed his head again.

“Yeah. Mr. Head Boy, You-Know-Who’s favorite,” said Ron sarcastically. “He already got a taste of us, Ginny – and You-Know-Who, don’t worry.”

-o0o-

It was almost dawn the next day, but Harry, Ron and Ginny didn’t seem to get some sleep overnight despite their exhaustion. All through the night they just kept quiet, not interested to talk. Sometimes one of them would have a great idea of how to escape and talk to everyone about it, but it always boiled down to the Dementors at every entrance and exit that they finally had given up entertaining the idea.

In addition to the reality of being held captive and the fear of the unknown, they all had the same horrible feeling all night because of Hermione’s loss; each one of them never had gotten hold of their feelings at least more than a few times - especially Harry who seemed to have been affected by it most of all. They all felt they have already been through tremendous emotional and physical strain as a result of Jack Chadron’s misguided longings for power under Voldemort, and it was hard not to think of plunging a knife through his throat while he just sat there a few feet away from them.

Ginny had tried too many times to point out to Harry and Ron that until Hermione’s lifeless body was found, she could not be considered dead yet, although even Ginny herself couldn’t believe what she was saying. It was absolutely impossible to find the right Norwegian Ridgeback who got Hermione, let alone finding her body inside its stomach whatever was left of it. The thought of that was just too grim, and Ron didn’t fail to tell Ginny to shut up each time she brought it up. Still, that didn’t stop them of hoping she were alive and had gotten away.

Even if they were prisoners of the most evil wizard ever known, Ron couldn’t deny the food Voldemort fed them was great. If there ever was one thing good left about Voldemort, it was his cook. Just after breakfast or eggs, bacon, and toast, two Death Eaters came inside the their cell to get Harry.

“The Dark Lord now demands your presence, Potter,” said one of them. “Come with us.”

Ron and Ginny urged Harry not to obey, fearing that it may be the last time they’d ever see him. Harry would have refused to be brought to Voldemort, but one of the Death Eaters simply grabbed Ginny and pointed his knife across her neck, threatening to kill her if he didn’t go with them. It was a classic terrorist tactic that Harry didn’t want to play games with, and he reluctantly agreed.

“I’ll be back,” Harry said to Ron, who was staring resentfully at the Death Eaters while comforting Ginny, who was terribly shaken. This earned the Death Eater a look from Harry that could kill.

“One wrong move, and your pitiful friends die, Potter,” said the other Death Eater while they walked along the corridors towards the throne room. Harry didn’t answer, and kept on going. They had reached the 25-foot oak panel double doors towards the throne room, and they opened up by themselves.

Through the gaps between the two doors, Harry finally saw him. Harry felt like it was only yesterday that he faced this dark Lord; Voldemort sat on his jade-encrusted throne holding a scepter; only his lips were visible under the shadows of his hood. Then the usual thing happened when he gets near him – his scar acted up again with intense pain, though he didn’t put a hand on it this time. A dozen Death Eaters flanked him at both sides, and Voldemort beckoned Harry to walk forward.

Harry didn’t want to, but Voldemort now guided him like a marionette by his wand, and Harry walked stiffly towards him. Fighting it was useless, and like adding insult to his freewill, Harry was made to bow as he reached the steps at the bottom of Voldemort’s throne. The Death Eaters laughed.

“Again, we meet, Harry Potter,” said Voldemort triumphantly. “I believe our last meeting was adjourned quite prematurely by unexpected visitors. I’m quite pleased of having the chance to finalize our - formal parting of ways.”

Harry didn’t say anything, and just stared at Voldemort resentfully. In truth, he was beginning to fear him again, but he didn’t want to give Voldemort more pleasure by shaking in front of him.

“But what a difference half a year makes,” Voldemort continued on. “The last time you saw me rise again I only had a graveyard for a place to do my work, and a few disciples amidst me. Now look around you. I’ve built this fortress with a wave of my wand in seconds, as a symbol of my power. People shudder with the mere mention of my name, but after they will gain knowledge about this fortress I built, they will learn how to fear the name Xanthius.”

Voldemort stood and approached Harry, who was standing quite still, and reached for his jaw. Harry felt the cold, coarse hands of Voldemort as his head was lifted up a little to allow a good look on his face. Voldemort pulled back his hood to reveal himself, and Harry’s eyes widened when he realized Voldemort’s face had somehow changed. He still had the snake like-slits for a nose but his red eyes, lips, and cheeks were now slowly returning to his old self – of the young Tom Riddle.

“I see you’ve already noted the physical change in me, Harry,” said Voldemort, laughing, and staring at Harry’s eyes. “And this change actually comes with a change of heart. The reason why I haven’t murdered you already is that I might give you the option to choose your destiny - and the world’s.”

Voldemort let go of Harry’s jaw, and he returned to his throne. “Before I give you that option, you will need to understand a little of my own history and my vision for the future. That will help you decide which path you must take afterwards.”

“I would rather die than – “ Harry started.

“That will come if you refuse my offer, never fear,” said Voldemort calmly.

In a split second, Harry and Voldemort were suddenly outdoors beside each other, standing on a hill. It looked like it was nighttime, only that the sky was dark because of the blackest clouds he’d ever seen in his whole life. Harry thought that they were in a different place in a different time. Harry couldn’t move from where he stood, and getting away from Voldemort was next to impossible.

From his vantage point, Harry could see a large castle in the distance with a few tall towers with embattlements. He couldn’t miss the tallest one that was at the center – it seemed to be as high as the dark clouds. All around the castle were rolling hills and forests, and they seemed to be filled with a large gathering of people as far as his eyes could see.

“This is Xanthius as it looks outside. It is where I will rule in the New Order,” announced Voldemort. “That time is almost here, as my legions of followers are gathering to prepare for it.” Voldemort now looked at Harry, who looked back with an impassive face.“This is a glimpse of the future, Harry. The thousands of people you see are my slaves. It’s unavoidable, and nobody shall deny me of such future.”

Harry’s vision spun; they were now inside a room, and this time they weren’t alone. There was another man with his back to them who sat on a wooden chair, head drooped as if he was severely depressed, and time seemed to stay still. He was wearing some kind of a military uniform, and there was a gun and a wand on the table in front of him. Harry couldn’t quite get what Voldemort was trying to show him, but the man looked very familiar.

“This man, Harry, was my former master,” said Voldemort calmly. “Do you know who this was?”

The room turned, and they were now standing where Harry could now see the man’s face, but still, he didn’t know who this man was.

“Grindewald.”

“Grindewald?” repeated Harry. “That’s the name of the Dark Wizard Dumbledore defeated in 1945.”

“I see you know your History of Magic, and this was the day he died in his keep. The history books tell that Dumbledore killed Grindewald, and here you will see the truth how it happened.”

The door of the room sprang open, and a young Tom Riddle burst in, looking afraid and sweaty. “He’s coming, Master!” Harry somehow enjoyed watching Tom Riddle about to wet his pants. Without any warning, the wall behind Riddle disintegrated into millions of shards of splinters, and when the dust settled, Harry saw Dumbledore, more than fifty years younger, pointing his wand at the back of Grindewald. Dumbledore’s blue eyes were on fire.

“You have nowhere to go, Grindewald,” said Dumbledore in German, but Harry was surprised he could understand the language even though he never learned it. “Your muggle army is defeated. Give up now, and I will spare your life.”

But Grindewald didn’t say anything and confronted Dumbledore, turning around to point his golden wand at him. Then came violent flashes of light and innumerable bangs; Harry couldn’t catch on what was happening - everything went on too fast.

When the smoke cleared, Grindewald looked wasted, his uniform burned to shreds. Dumbledore had a deep gash on his left knee, but he was still standing. As Harry watched, he felt immensely proud of seeing Dumbledore in action, and defeating one of the darkest wizards in the world. So this was how Dumbledore actually defeated Grindewald, Harry thought.

A sudden sound like a bullet firing rang inside the bunker; Grindewald had taken his life with a bullet to the head. Harry was startled, and he jerked and grimaced, seeing for the first time ever in his life the blood and gore one made when committing such suicidal acts. The sight of it will embed in his memory for as long as he lived.

The young Riddle had his mouth open, in extreme shock seeing what his master did - even more so when he saw Dumbledore pointing his wand at him. Nothing happened then because Riddle disapparated, screaming at Dumbledore with a vow of vengeance. With Riddle gone, Dumbledore looked down on Grindewald, took the dark wizard’s wand and broke it into two. Then the scene froze.

“My master envisioned his own perfect world – a world free of the filth of lesser Muggles,” Voldemort said, as Dumbledore stood motionless. “His concept of a master race, molded into his own liking, was derived from Salazar Slytherin’s legacy, which I vow to someday put into reality. My vision this time is to rid the world free of Muggles to avenge my master’s death, and for me, a wizard world free of Mudbloods. I share my master’s vision, and I see it as the most noble deed.”

“You probably hate Muggles because your old master died with a gun – a Muggle object,” said Harry with relish. “It just proves even Muggles could defeat the darkest of wizards, and that includes you.” Voldemort, for the first time ever, didn’t know how to get back at Harry for what he said.

“And you say a world free of Muggles?” asked Harry next. “Then you’re talking about Genocide! ”

“Unfortunate for them. If not Genocide, then slavery. That’s where you come in.”

Harry fell silent, dreading of the future Voldemort had painted for the world in front of him. The world as he knew it won’t be the same if he were given the chance; he thought this man really needed to be stopped at all costs. He didn’t know what was the point of Voldemort of showing this little piece of his own history because it only made Harry hate him more, now that he knew he had served the man who had plunged the world in chaos. This little show only showed that Voldemort had inherited bigotry from the man who was known to have murdered millions of people in ethnic cleansing.

“Join us, Harry,” Voldemort said. “This way you will spare all Muggles and Mudbloods from the fate I have laid out for them. You will be their envoy, and you will have the power to control their destiny. As long as you serve me, I shall not kill them. But if you refuse, they will all die. You, ahead of them.”

This was getting nowhere, Harry thought. He couldn’t believe Voldermort, the same man who killed his parents, could still expect sympathy or allegiance from him. At the same time, Harry couldn’t fathom what was in it for Voldemort if he’d join in, too - like when pigs could fly. What was so special about him that Voldemort was willing to give-up his life-long goal of Muggle genocide? There were actually more questions than answers, but he didn’t have to wait for the latter.

“The Heir of Gryffindor, capitulating to the Heir of Slytherin,” said Voldemort. “The world shall tremble on that New Order. The Heir of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff have not been conceived yet. Your surrender, coupled with the invalidity of Dumbledore, will be a symbolic defeat to those who oppose me as I prepare for my inevitable rise to power. Your decision, Harry, will determine the future of the new minority.

“You have nowhere to go, Harry. It was entirely your fault that one of your dearest friends is dead, and the two others who are already my prisoners, will follow soon. When you do return to Hogwarts, if you do manage to escape from me at all, whom can you turn to?

“Believe me, you will never find friends like them ever again. Your world as you know it will be insignificant, and what better way to avoid the pain of losing what you once had very dearly than embarking in a new world order with me? I will make you forget about your friends, for you will be much happier knowing only about how great and wonderful the future will be in store for you. If you remember what I told you once before and I say it again: there is no good and evil, only power. Together, we will do extraordinary things. Yes, Harry.”

Harry thought about it deeper this time. Voldemort was tempting him, and he seemed to be succeeding. Hermione was dead - he was responsible for it, and he didn’t want to blame himself for it for the rest of his life. Whether he liked it or not, Voldemort will kill Ron and Ginny for no reason at all but for the sake of it. Will he be able to cope with the grief that will come next with it?

With Dumbledore’s health getting worse, whom will he turn to for protection? If Voldemort really can make wipe his memory about his former friends, will it hurt at all if he’ll never remember anyone of them anymore? The offer was so tempting, and Harry was getting very confused. Voldemort had already played on Harry’s mind, and the offer to get out of his suffering was just too hard to ignore.

“Think of how many Muggle deaths you’ll prevent if you pledge your allegiance to me – and the freedom from your guilt. I will give you time to decide, Harry,” Voldemort concluded.

The walls around Harry dissolved while his mind buzzed, and he was back suddenly in Xanthius in front of a startled but relieved Ron and Ginny.

-o0o-

When Harry had finished telling Ron and Ginny what Voldemort had shown him, their minds were buzzing with information overload. The three of them just sat there on the floor, thinking. Harry didn’t tell them about Voldemort’s offer to make him forget about his past if he agreed to join him – he knew Ron will be pretty mad if he had even entertained the prospect of turning his coat.

“I always knew You-Know-Who was a bloody rotten idiot,” said Ron with gritted teeth. “I still don’t get it. What’s the point showing how Dumbledore beat Grindewald – I don’t see any relevance. It only makes me root for Dumbledore even more the way you saw him do those cool moves.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it either,” said Harry. “But it’s good intelligence – info I mean. Maybe we could find out what makes You-Know-Who tick.”

“If You-Know-Who wanted to disprove that Dumbledore really killed Grindewald to doubt him, then he’s mistaken. It just shows Dumbledore isn’t a cold-blooded murderer like him – and that’s probably why You-Know-Who’s so afraid of Dumbledore. Even his master Grindewald killed himself out of cowardice.”

“Maybe we could talk to Dumbledore about it,” Ginny said optimistically. “Oh, Harry, we really thought we’d never see you again. I’m so happy that you’re still alive.”

“Yeah,” said Ron. “If we’re really gonna buy the farm sooner or later, let’s just make sure we go together, huh?” he said rather sadly.

Ginny shook her head. “Hmphh! Overruled by the pessimist again,” she said to Harry, jerking her head to Ron, who scowled at her.

Harry, for the first time from the Burrow, laughed. It felt real good to laugh again, but what Ron had said before Ginny bore deep into Harry’s heart. While he was secretly considering Voldemort’s proposal (he can’t believe he was even thinking about it), Ron was so sure that their bond would never break.

Ron was a good joker, and in an effort to remove their gloom, he cracked a lot of funny stories. Ginny was laughing hysterically, and Harry did his best to listen in and laugh. Even Jack Chadron was laughing, Harry saw, although not loudly. Still, what Voldemort had said to him earlier kept crossing his mind, much more frequent than he had expected – he now wasn’t really listening to Ron. Through the rest of Ron’s jokes, Harry’s laughter were mostly forced - and Ron saw through him; he could tell there was something wrong with Harry.

The question playing in Harry’s mind now, after being reminded how wonderful it was to have friends who make you laugh, would it really hurt if he was made to forget about his past, like he never had known them in the first place? And if so, for whatever kind of monster Voldemort might make out of him, would it make him worry what people might think of him then when he cared for no one at all?

It would be like being reborn and to become oblivious to his past – ironically that would also mean the death of the former Harry, like he never existed, and he would live on in a different form with its own different mind. He would never feel bad anymore about what had been, as long as he didn’t remember. Harry was now on the brink of giving in to temptation. It was the only way he knew how to get out of his grief and guilt – the easy way.

Wherever he turned, Jack Chadron, alone at his side of the shield, seemed to keep falling within Harry’s sight. Each time Jack fell into view, he was reminded how blinded Jack was to Voldemort’s power. But after being deceived, Chadron was now wishing he’d go back to the good side – Dumbledore’s fold, while Harry was thinking of the opposite. He found that very ironic, but yet they had very different reasons why they’re contemplating the other way.

Deception. Was this Voldemort’s game? Harry had learned never to trust the enemy, but the situation had changed all of a sudden. What if Voldemort really had a change of heart? Voldemort really didn’t make promises to Jack at all, only Lucius did, so Voldemort really didn’t deceive him, did he? “Hermione,” Harry called in his thoughts like a prayer, “please give me your wisdom wherever you are.”

Harry didn’t notice it, but he had already been fighting with himself for a long time. Each passing moment he thought about it, he was getting feverish, and it seemed like something deep in his mind was talking to him to accept the offer.

“Accept it Harry, there’s no other alternative –“ said the voice audibly.

“No, I can’t – “ Harry fought.

“You can’t live with the guilt for the rest of your life – there’s no other way but to accept it.”

“Yes – No – Yes.”

He didn’t understand why he was beginning to get more afraid to refuse it. It was like someone is telling him there’s no other real choice.

“Harry, you killed me, Harry, you killed me!” then said another voice in his mind, and it now sounded like Hermione’s. Harry suddenly felt like his temperature dropped below zero. He then felt very extremely guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione!” he said in his mind. “Oh, Hermione, I’m so sorry!”

“I will never forgive you, Harry! Never! Never!” Hermione cried.

“No, Hermione – please forgive me – “

“You killed me!”

“Harry? You allright?” said Ron.

Harry suddenly came back to his senses, although not completely. The voices had gone. Ron had seen him talk to himself, and had nudged his friend to check up on him.

“Yeah, Ron, m-maybe just a bad dream – “

“But you were awake,” said Ron suspiciously. “You sure you okay?”

“Yeah – “ Harry now wiped his sweaty forehead and slid himself down lower on the floor in an attempt to relax.

Ginny was already sleeping, but Ron was still staring at him. Harry had never seen him so serious in his whole life. That look on Ron’s face wasn’t helping him feel relaxed.

“Harry, I know there’s something wrong with you,” Ron said, and he was not smiling. Best friends had the uncanny ability to see through themselves without talking about it. “You’re acting – strange. I know there’s something else bothering you.”

Harry hesitated and kept quiet for a while, yet Ron was determined to squeeze out what was bothering his friend deep inside however long it would take. Fortunately, Harry was still himself despite of recent his fit, and he couldn’t bear keeping any secret from the best friend he had known for years. He left it all to fate, and Harry told Ron everything. As he did, he seemed to have reached some sort of a decision, and the feeling he had earlier was again returning very rapidly.

Ron didn’t get angry at all, to Harry’s surprise. In fact Ron felt sorry for him, while he listened on at least, and he didn’t fail to frantically look for a reason to steer Harry off from ever considering Voldemort’s alternative. From then on, Ron became increasingly agitated.

“Harry, I can’t believe you’re falling for You-Know-Who’s lies!” he said not so quietly, and Ginny jumped out of her dreams. “Haven’t we ever learned our lesson yet? The Philosopher’s Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, his attempts to murder you last year! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten everything what we’ve fought for!”

“Yeah, I know, but you have to understand what I feel first – about Hermione,” he replied in a desperate voice, like he was in the verge of a breakdown. “I’m the reason she’s dead, and if you were me, would you like to live the rest of your life blaming yourself about it?”

“If you were me,” Ron spat back, “what would you feel if I wanted you dead, too, just to forget about everything? Then what kind of a friend are you? You’ll be abandoning what you, Hermione, and I believed in. She died to save me – I wish that didn’t have to happen, but – but – it has already happened, Harry. Hard for me to accept it’s happened! Then you’ll just go over to the dark side - giving in to You-Know-Who will be an insult to her memory!

“Think about what you’re going to do, Harry! No, no don’t cry now – I think you’re cracking up!” Harry was pulling his hair now, like he was on the brink.

“I think he confunded Harry,” Jack said. “He’s under his spell!”

“Keep out of this, you stupid git!” Ron said to Chadron venomously.

“Ron, I’m sorry – I’m so sorry! But I have to do it - ” Harry said, shaking.

“What? You decided already?” said Ron incredulously. “How can you be such a coward, Harry? YOU’D BE A COWARD IF YOU DO!” Ginny made a squeaking sound, and she might have heard everything as she was cowering at a corner, horrified by Harry’s emotional state.

“Harry, please, whatever it is you’re thinking, please don’t do it!” she said imploringly.

Ron approached Harry, hugged him, and said, “We can get out of here, Harry, I promise to help you out of your grief then,” But Harry was fully confused, like there was some kind of invisible pressure being brought down to him. “There’s still a way out - you can fight it!”

Harry didn’t have a chance to. Some Death Eaters opened their cell door, and each of them grabbed him, Ron, Ginny, and Jack, dragging them out painfully.

“Hey, where’re you taking us?!?” protested Ginny.

“To the Dark Lord,” said the Death Eater calmly. “It’s time for Potter to make his life decision, and for the rest of you to die.”

18. Liberty or Death!

Chapter 17

“Liberty or Death”

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Jack struggled against their captors in a sign of their defiance as they were literally dragged towards Voldemort’s throne room. Ron and Ginny were feeling the same way, resentful but scared the same but Harry, a few paces in front of them, was obviously fighting with himself aside from the Death Eaters.

Ron thought Jack was probably right – Harry wasn’t himself. Whatever transpired with his meeting with Voldemort, he didn’t know, but Harry could have been truly subjected to a Confundus charm, he now bet on it. Was there a way to break it? Maybe he could talk Harry out of it, as long as they were together in one place, he could still help him see reason and make him realize Voldemort was just tricking him. Ron knew what would happen if Harry answered positively to his scheme and he didn’t want it to happen at all.

“Ron! Please don’t let them kill me,” Ginny cried, her face drawn with her feeling of dread of what was about to happen to them. The Death Eaters who were holding them rang with laughter, positively having pleasure from her distress. She was shaking, and Ron could not help but feel afraid for her, too. The fact that he couldn’t do anything for her at this moment gave him the worst feeling he ever had in his life.

“Don’t be afraid, Ginny!” Ron could only tell his baby sister. “Be brave! Be strong!”

When they had arrived in the throne room’s very large anteroom, Harry and Jack were separated from Ron and Ginny. This gave Ron another jolt of fear. This would really prevent him from ever helping Harry resist Voldemort. “Harry!”

“Hey, where are you taking them?” said Harry to the Death Eaters, amid the confusion in his mind.

“You’ll see later,” said the Death Eater simply.

“Harry!” called Ron as they were being hauled away from each other. Ron was fighting forward; Ginny wasn’t strong enough to be much of a resistance and was pulled away fairly easily.

“Ron! Ginny!” Harry shouted back. For few seconds he slid off the Death Eater’s grasp and he flung himself towards his friends to try to pry Ron off his handler. A small rumble ensued, and Harry was hit with a hard whack from the back of a hand of another Death Eater. He flew back, spitting blood, and crashed down painfully to the floor, all the while Ginny attempted to bite the arm of one of the Death Eaters holding her with no success. Jack Chadron didn’t put much of a fight; he just looked on, looking resigned to their inevitable fate.

With Harry sprawled on the floor, very much hurt to stand up quickly, the Death Eaters seized the opportunity to drag Ron and Ginny further as far away as they can. They were both shoved downward on a stone staircase Harry didn’t know where it lead to.

“Harry, please don’t listen to him! Not ever!” yelled Ron, and that was the last Harry had heard from him as the sounds of their protest became weaker until they were not heard anymore. Harry then heard some very large dogs barking loudly within the castle at a distance. He didn’t know where they were - he didn’t want to find out and didn’t look forward to meet them soon, too. The barking had then stopped as soon as it started. Harry found that real weird and scary.

Shortly thereafter, Harry was lifted off the floor and painfully led forward to the throne room with Jack at the back; the tall, majestic oak doors opened and Voldemort was again sitting on his throne at the end of the room at very much the same way Harry saw him just earlier. The only thing that was different from the previous time they met was that there was now a body of a Death Eater slumped on the floor. He looked dead to Harry, and he was right.

“Foolish of him to disagree with me,” said Voldemort as two other Death Eaters hurried over to remove the body out of the room.

There were a couple dozen uneasy Death Eaters with their masks on present in the throne room, and they all moved to both sides of Voldemort’s throne, facing Harry and Jack Chadron, who were now both alone in the middle. Voldemort’s giant snake Nagini slithered around the whole room.

Voldemort had told Harry he’d give him time to think about his proposition, and it was clear that Voldemort couldn’t wait a minute more because this was their second meeting in less than three hours. What Harry didn’t understand was that he’d naturally refuse Voldemort’s proposition, but it seemed that he didn’t know how to say “no”. Hermione’s voice kept playing in his mind, unceasing to blame him for her death. Harry tried to shut it out by apologizing to her profusely, but the guilt didn’t just go away.

While Harry was still fighting amongst himself, Voldemort turned to Jack Chadron, who was standing a few feet beside Harry.

“Jack Chadron,” he said, startling the former Hogwarts Head Boy. “As I have lost another servant because of his unforgivable mistake, I’ve considered your recent efforts to serve me as a good reason to reaccept you conditionally to my circle. I am willing to forgive your latest blunder. However, if you commit another one, then you will suffer the same fate of the Death Eater you saw on the floor earlier.”

Harry made a quick look at Jack. It was as if Jack had seen his long lost family. His face was bright and he looked dreamy. “Wormtail, give him back his wand,” instructed Voldemort.

“My Lord!” said one of the Death Eaters nervously. “You don’t know what – “

“Silence!” Voldemort growled. “Nobody contradict me!” He gave the Death Eater a furious stare, making him flinch and return to his formation, shaking, and apologizing copiously.

Wormtail obediently went over to Jack Chadron, gave the wand to him, and quickly got back beside Voldemort. The look of Jack’s face told everyone that he could not believe what was happening, and he stared at his wand like it was gold.

“Stand in formation with the others, Chadron,” said Voldemort. “You will know what your first initiation will be when I say it.” Jack obeyed, moved forward towards the throne, and filled the gap left by the deceased Death Eater. Jack looked at the masked faces of the other Death Eaters; he could tell by the look of their eyes under the shadows of their masks that he wasn’t welcome. He looked around for Lucius Malfoy – he didn’t know if he was present because all the Death Eaters looked the same behind their uniformed masks.

Voldemort returned his gaze to Harry and smirked at the look of his face as the boy just stood in front of him. His Confundus spell was so strong that he was confident he’d finally persuade Harry to join him. Voldemort had realized after their meeting in the graveyard that the allegiance of Harry Potter to his cause had far more advantages than just killing him outright. Harry was incredibly famous, and much of the wizard world believed he was their ray of hope against Voldemort because the boy had some kind of special magic within him that made him invulnerable. Or so they thought.

Voldemort would use that unproven myth for his advantage, and the fact that he had Harry as his “ally” they will fear him even more. When the dark clouds of Xanthius would spread its gloom over the wizard world completely, most will surrender out of trepidation, and Voldemort will at last start his reign of terror for Mudbloods – and purebloods opposing him. Even Hogwarts will surely fall in the weight of Xanthius’ dark magic.

Still, if his new plan didn’t work out, he’d still execute Harry Potter for all to see, and the effect of that will still be as ominous as his submission.

Of course, Voldemort knew Harry’s allegiance would not be complete if the boy didn’t pledge it with his freewill. Voldemort would have to break it to the very last moment when he gives in and release the Confundus charm just before the boy says “yes”. Voldemort had tried to threaten Harry with death, but it looked like it didn’t scare him enough, he had used the death – and the possibility of death - of his dearest friends to sway him. Voldemort knew Harry’s weakness – the never-ending guilt of causing those deaths. He’d convince Harry that living on would actually be more horrifying than death itself, and it was almost done.

Voldemort laughed. His other promises to Harry were actually all lies - like salt and pepper. Fare may taste good if you sprinkle it with them, but after it’s been eaten, they’re over and done. Like in Harry’s case, the offer would seem too hard to refuse, but once he accepts the offer, the boy will not remember his former self. Voldemort would still keep on killing Muggles and the new Harry would not mind at all and protest on not keeping his promise. He’d just use Harry for his worth, and dispose of him if he’d become useless. This was why Voldemort had to keep Harry alive for now, otherwise his plans for capturing the wizard world will be too difficult, but not impossible.

“The time has for you to accept my proposition, Harry,” said Voldemort calmly. Jack Chadron looked on nervously.

“Harry, it’s all your fault!” rang Hermione’s voice in Harry’s mind again. Her voice sounded like she was suffering. “I’m dead because of you!”

Harry fell to his knees, holding his head with both hands. “Hermione, no, no, I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“You hurt me! That’s why I’m dead! How can you a thing like that to me?”

Voldemort laughed heavily seeing Harry fight with himself. He knew what was going in Harry’s mind.

“Harry, why?” said Hermione. “Why did you kill me?”

Harry was shaking his head as he wept severely, body bent on the floor. Hermione’s charge was the most painful of all. “Have I known that would happen, I wouldn’t have done it…”

“Yet it’s done Harry!” Hermione replied. “It’s unforgivable!”

“Guilty!” said another voice much different this time. Harry didn’t know whose and where it came from. “Accept it!”

“I can’t – Yes I must – no!”

“There’s no other way Harry!” said the other voice again. Voldemort and the Death Eaters laughed much harder as Harry bawled.

“I have something else that would help you decide,” said Voldemort, and with a flick of a wand, a cage emerged from the floor at the middle of the room. Harry watched, gasping for air. As it was raising all of the Death Eaters rang with laughter. Jack tried to laugh with them, but he couldn’t seem to make himself to when he saw Ron and Ginny were in it, bound and gagged.

“R-Ron! Ginny!” said Harry. “You all right?”

The two siblings tried furiously to say something to Harry even if they knew they wouldn’t be able to. Only their muffled voices were heard beyond their gags. Harry couldn’t bear seeing Ron and Ginny like that. Ron closed his eyes hard as if he was concentrating.

“If it’s too difficult for you to decide on such a simple thing, Harry,” said Voldemort, sneering, “Then your refusal will be the cause of their deaths. What you haven’t done for them will add to your pain forever.”

“N-no, not Ron,” said Harry weakly.

“Harry, you can fight it!” said another voice similar to Ron’s.

“R-Ron?” Harry said, looking around. He glanced at Ron, who was still closing his eyes. Ron was communicating through telepathy, though Harry couldn’t know how he learned to.

“Harry, I don’t know if you can hear me, but if all of us will have to die, we have to die together, don’t we?” said Ron.

“Together?”

“Harry, come to us, not You-Know-Who – “

Then he heard Hermione’s voice again gradually drowning Ron’s, but her persuasion had strangely stepped up another notch. “Harry, I’ll forgive you if you spare Ron and Ginny,” her voice said. “If you don’t, we’ll all blame you for the rest of your life.”

Now Harry knew that didn’t sound like Hermione. He couldn’t believe she could say such a thing. “Hermione, how could you?”

“Yes, Harry, it’s me! If you say yes to Voldemort, you’ll save Ron’s and Ginny’s lives, then I can rest in peace. Please!”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore and he screamed. He slumped on the floor in front of Voldemort, exhausted. His face was sweaty, he opened his eyes sleepily, and for the first time his mind somehow cleared up as he saw Voldemort laughing while he sat on his throne. Hermione said in a whisper, “Harry, do it for me. Yield to Voldemort - ”

“NEVER!”

Voldemort’s and the Death Eater’s laugh stopped abruptly. There was an eerie silence across the whole room, and all everyone could hear was Nagini’s rustling on the floor. “Say again?” said Voldemort very seriously, his brows furrowed.

“I’d never surrender to you, Voldemort!” Harry said as forcefully as he could despite his weakness. He slowly stood up as he stared at Voldemort, shaking. “How dare you use Hermione for your evil ends!”

“She’s dead because of you, Potter. She’s blaming you for it.”

“YOU’RE BLAMING ME, NOT HER!” Harry roared. “She’d never say that to me! I could see it now - it was you all along, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, what would she never say to you?” Voldemort said, acting innocent.

“She’d never want me to surrender to you just for her! We’d rather die doing so!” Harry shouted. However, Voldemort didn’t seem to be bothered with Harry’s resistance.

“I see. Or would you rather choose your other friends to die for it now?” he upped the challenged.

Harry snapped his head at Ron and Ginny, whose eyes were getting round with terror. He’d never want that to happen to them. “No – not them! Take me instead!” Harry said, fearing their deaths more than his. “They have nothing to do with you!”

“No, you will not die just yet. I will not allow an easy way out for you if you really choose death – how courageous of you,” said Voldemort satisfactorily. “I will kill them first, and you will be left on your own to lament out of your wrong decision, and the only way out of your suffering is to submit yourself to me.” Voldemort laughed again. “If you choose the latter, then I will spare the lives of your filthy little friends!”

Harry looked back at Ron and Ginny breathlessly. Ron was shaking his head and was desperately trying to say something. He closed his eyes again and attempted telepathy, but nothing came in to Harry ‘s mind. Harry didn’t know if Ron didn’t want to die or just didn’t want him to give in to Voldemort.

Again, the voice that sound like Hermione’s told him “Spare Ron for me, Harry, Please!” Harry closed his eyes and shook his head in an attempt to clear out Hermione’s voice. He definitely knew it wasn’t her. Maybe if he could still refuse. He could do a Grindewald, but he knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Taking one’s own life can never be justified whatever the reason. What if he said yes, then he’d realize too late that Voldemort was just lying, and killed Ron and Ginny anyway? Then Harry understood he had nowhere to go – whichever path he took he’d still end up the loser. Harry thought hard.

“Ron, what’ll I do?” he thought.

“Harry, Ginny and I are ready to die – we’ve talked about it. It’s you who has to go on! Millions of lives are depending on you!”

“But that would be too arrogant for me to – “ He looked at Ron and Ginny, who were looking at him without blinking. He could see now in Ron’s eyes that he had forgotten how not to trust Voldemort. He had to tell Ron. “Voldemort’s lying, Ron! He’ll still kill you and Ginny even if I say yes to him!”

“That’s it, Harry!” said Ron in Harry’s mind. “You know how to fight it!"

Harry hesitated.

“Your time is up, Harry,” said Voldemort, and Harry looked at him with dread. “Your friends will now die.”

“NOOOO!” Harry cried and tried to lunge at Voldemort, but Nagini squeezed Harry with his body, restraining and holding him still.

“Jack Chadron!” Voldemort called, and Jack stepped out of his formation. “I have something for you to do. Your first task is to kill the Weasley children.”

Jack was alarmed with Voldemort’s order, although he knew he’d be told to do something sooner or later. Like a good Death Eater like he’d become, he had to obey Voldemort without question.

“ I assume you have been trained with the death curse,” said Voldemort. “Do it properly, and you are one step towards full Death Eater membership. Fail, you die along with them.”

Jack shook, although not too visibly. Voldemort’s last sentence jolted him, and he remembered his last attempt of the Death Curse against Dumbledore. He had failed then, and would he do it properly this time? He looked at Ron and Ginny, and their eyes were the widest he’d seen in his whole life.

It was unsettling for him to know that he’d be killing kids, and he’d be hearing their jokes and laughter – then their cries of death. He didn’t know if he’d be able to get over the feeling for the rest of his life – he felt Harry’s pain when he talked about his guilt about causing the death of Hermione Granger, and it will feel all too real with him after he’d commit the murder he’d been ordered to do. Still, he had to show his mettle with Voldemort, or else he’d die, too. Looked like he no choice either.

He moved forward towards the cage that kept the Weasleys, his wand pointed at them. Voldemort and the Death Eaters watched him intently, simpering as he went nearer to the frightened kids. As he passed where Harry stood, he stopped. “This is what I have dreamed of all my life, Harry,” said Jack slowly, looking to Harry, and then at his wand. “The time has finally come, like I wished it would come. He-Who-Must-Be Named saw my potential at last.”

“Jack – P-please don’t do it,” pleaded Harry. He felt that his appeal would fall into deaf ears – Jack couldn’t have been too happy with the treatment he got from Harry and Ron back in the dungeons.

“Forgive me, Harry, for everything,” said Jack sadly, as Ron and Ginny trembled. He just stood there for a moment, irresolute; the silence was killing Harry. Then an odd look emerged on Jack’s face.

“But there’s still one thing I have to tell you that nobody knew except He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and me,” he continued on. “He killed my parents – yes, I’ve realized it at last, thanks to you and your friends. He butchered my true and only family - ”

Harry then knew what was coming, and so did the Death Eaters who heard what Jack had said. Confusion developed as some Death Eaters started to run behind Jack, reaching for their wands. “What’s happening?” said Voldemort, baffled by the sudden activity around him.

Jack raised his wand to the high ceiling, and bellowed, “FLIPENDO ULTIMOS!”

Jack’s spell shook the whole castle violently. Death Eaters who were running lost their balance and fell to the floor. The stone ceiling, fifty feet above them, came crashing down on everyone, and Jack was the first to perish along with some others. Nagini had inadvertently protected Harry from the heavy stone members of the ceiling by curling to save himself. He was hit in the head by one, knocking him out. It was every man for himself, and thick dust soon covered the whole area, blinding anyone who had survived within a few inches.

Harry could hear Voldemort’s curses amidst other wailing voices and the choking dust. He struggled to free himself from the snake that bounded him, calling for Ron and Ginny’s name. He could only hear the sound of their muffled voices in return and he steered himself to it. Along the way, he almost slipped at something that rolled under his feet. He felt it was a wand - it was Jack’s wand, miraculously intact! Heart pounding loudly with his luck, he grabbed it, and felt his way forward again until he had reached the steel grilles.

“Ron, Ginny! Hang on, I’m coming,” Harry said, coughing. He felt around for some kind of a lock somewhere and he found it. He stepped back, pointed the tip of the wand at the lock and muttered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked open. The dust was thinning out, and he got himself in the cage making out the white faces of Ron and Ginny. They were still bound behind their backs and he had to take care of that, too.

“Snipendo,” Harry muttered as he pointed his wand on the ropes that bounded Ron and Ginny. After their hands were free, they removed their gags. “Welcome back, Harry,” said Ron as he stood up, helping Ginny on her feet. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Right!” said Harry. They all ran out of the cage and ran up and down the rubble, away from Voldemort’s throne. The dust had almost settled completely on the floor, and they could see almost clearly around them.

“Look, they’re escaping!” said Wormtail.

“Kill the Weasleys!” barked Voldemort. “Potter’s mine!” With Voldemort’s order, more than half of the original number of Death Eaters began to move out in pursuit of Harry, Ron, and Ginny. “Don’t come back until you bring me them all to me!!!”

Harry, Ron, and Ginny had gotten out the throne room’s main doorway. Everything beyond the throne room looked intact. “Where’re we going?” panted Ginny. They looked around for the best path to escape.

“Anywhere!” said Ron. The floor was flat again, and they could now run as fast as they can. The hall they chose seemed endless, and there were no doorways or connecting corridors for them to turn to. The pursuing Death Eaters had now gotten out of the throne room, and were frantically chasing Harry, Ron, and Ginny as if their lives depended on it.

“Let’s stick close together,” said Harry, looking back. “They won’t try to kill you if I’m with you – they can’t risk it.”

“That’s nice to hear,” said Ron. “Oh no! Look!”

Ten more Death Eaters, dispatched from another part of the castle and about fifty meters away, were on a collision course towards them. “Does this hall ever turn somewhere?” said Ginny nervously, fearing that they were going to be trapped. They had found one, and like the hallway they were in, it looked like it was going nowhere, too. However, it was obvious they had no other choice but to take it.

“We’ve got to find some way to go down, at least,” said Harry, losing breath. He saw something bearing down fast behind him. He didn’t want to wait to see what it was, and just muttered the next spell that came into his mind. “Reducto!”

The object bounced and hit the walls. Harry would’ve been happy for his fast reflexes but he saw something – or hundreds of them – emerge from where the object came from that made his jaw drop. “Imps! Hundreds of them!” Harry moaned. They looked menacing, like very wild and scary monkeys.

“Can you hold them off?” said Ron, still running.

“I can’t! Even if I had to stop to aim properly!”

“We’re going in somewhere huge outside!” said Ginny. “Up ahead!”

The hall ended up somewhere vast – they were outdoors, but they were not still out of the outer walls. It looked like a large courtyard or something, enclosed by walls as high as forty feet on four sides. They stopped at the middle, seeing that there were no other doorways leading to other parts of the castle except for the one ahead of them – of a high tower. Remembering the imps that were after them, Harry conjured an impenetrable shield on the doorway to delay their pursuers.

“That would hold them off, but not for long,” said Harry, looking back nervously. Some of the imps bumped the shield violently, and the rest were scratching and pounding on it. The shield didn’t look too strong, and judging how it wobbled, it would only hold the imps for a couple of minutes.

“Harry, that tower is the only way we can go!” said Ginny.

“I think that’s too risky,” said Ron. “If we can’t stay on the ground, we’ll never be able to get out of the castle. What’s behind those walls?”

“I don’t know - let’s see…” said Harry, starting to move towards one. He stopped abruptly when he saw something move on top. Death Eaters and hundreds of imps were crawling above every wall, looking down, and completely surrounding them. It seemed they had nowhere to go.

“This doesn’t look good,” Ginny said tensely, looking around. “Er, nowhere to go but up?”

“I suppose,” Ron said, feeling all the hair on his back standing up. “The doorway’s still open, let’s make a break for it!”

As the three of them sprinted towards the access of the tower, the imps and Death Eaters made their own move, scurrying and scaling down the walls to try to cut them off. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had entered the base of the tower not a moment too soon; Harry quickly conjured another shield on the doorway as they hurried up the stairs, canceling out the one he had made earlier. They had barricaded themselves in before a single imp could get in. Harry, however, didn’t feel happy about it – it was the only exit they would ever have.

The spiraling stairs seemed to reach the top forever, and they were losing breath as they negotiated it. Their legs were cramping from the climbing, but they didn’t seem to mind it much as their endurance was the only thing that will at least keep them alive. At last, they’d reached the top, emerging from the stair landing, and seeing again the blue cloudy sky. Ginny fell down on the tower’s floor as Ron gasped for air.

Out of breath, Harry went over the edge of the embattlements, and what he saw made his heart sink. Instead of rolling hills around the castle, he saw only endless ocean. “For the love of Merlin!” he exclaimed. Ron had noticed Harry’s desperation, and he moved beside him to look around, almost feeling faint upon seeing the sight around him.

“I don’t understand it – we were walking up to the castle when we were brought in,” Harry recalled.

“Bloody hell! I don’t know if we could swim that far, if we could ever see land!” said Ron desperately.

“If we could go even through that – look!” said Ginny, pointing downwards to the castle grounds. “Were do you suppose did they come from?”

The grounds seemed to be flooding with thousands of imps and other creatures trying to get to them. Harry couldn’t believe it. The imps had breached Harry’s barrier – they were flooding the tower’s base and would be coming up on top of them from the staircase any moment. Harry conjured another shield to cover the access to the staircase behind them at the middle of the tower, and he knew this was the last line of defense they would have.

“Oh, no!” said Ron. “You’re not going to believe this, Harry.” Harry hurried over again to the edge to look down, and his body just slumped resignedly on top of the embattlement when he saw the incredible sight. The Imps were scaling the tower’s walls all around, making their own shrill sounds as they did, and they were now steadily advancing halfway to the top. They were trapped – Harry’s shield shook violently and was about to break behind them.

Ron’s legs collapsed in resignation, and he sat on the floor giving up; Ginny moved over to Ron and they hugged. Escaping was truly impossible like Ron had said. Then the sound that came from the sky was the last nail to their coffin.

Harry shook his head in utter disbelief when he saw a dragon diving in from the clouds. He laughed bravely, threw his hands upward and roared, “Damn you, Voldemort! What else are you going to throw at us?!? Huh? Here I am, take me if that’s what you want!”

Harry pointed his wand at the dragon, but it dove speedily down to the ground below them, hidden from the sight behind the embattlements. Harry waited a long time see it rising again to the tower to kill them off, but he heard shrieks from the thousands of imps all around like there was a massive outbreak of panic. The air around him, Ron, Ginny just outside of the tower walls smelled of burnt flesh. Harry hesitated at first but he had to see what was happening below them, and ran to the edge of the embattlements. The sight was mind-boggling.

Fire was burning all around, and there was a flurry of activity on the ground as imps and the Death Eaters fought for their lives to get back inside the castle. The imps who were scaling the charred tower walls were nowhere to be found. The dragon seemed to have blanketed the whole grounds with fire – Harry looked around for it but he didn’t see it until it hovered quickly a feet just above them after it dove back from behind the clouds, flapping its majestic wings, and Hermione jumped off its back.

“H-Hermione?” said Harry, Ron, and Ginny hoarsely. She was smiling broadly, and Harry could have sworn she saw a ghost if he didn’t feel her take his hand and heave him towards the dragon very urgently.

“Hermione – how – “

“C’mon, there’s no time to talk!” she yelled. “There are still monkeys inside the tower! Get on the back of the dragon and hold on as tight as you can!”

Upon hearing this, Harry pulled Ron and Ginny off the ground and helped them get up the dragon. It was the same Norwegian Ridgeback he saw that took off with Hermione. It was flapping its huge wings steadily, its nostrils spitting balls of fire and it was looking around like it was ready for anything that might jump out on top of the embattlements. Ron and Ginny frantically tried to get between one of the dragon’s horned back, their feet slipping off occasionally from its smooth hide, and mounted themselves firmly. They were both speechless.

The last barrier had broken, and imps were scampering out to the floor from the center of the tower, bearing down on them. Harry and Hermione were still on the surface – thousands could have swamped them if Ron and Ginny hadn’t grabbed and pulled them on to the back of the dragon. Seeing that everyone was aboard, the dragon flapped its wings much harder and rose a few more feet up the air. Some imps had gotten on and were crawling towards Ginny.

“HANG ON! This’ll be uncomfortab-awwwl - ” Hermione shrieked as the dragon dove two hundred feet to the ground, almost vertically, to pick up speed. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were screaming their lungs out. The dragon abruptly changed g-forces as it leveled off and used its momentum to climb higher up to the clouds.

“Oh, I think I’m gonna be sick – “ said Ron uncomfortably, his face as green as Harry’s eyes. But he had forgotten about his nauseous feeling instantly when he heard Ginny’s scream from behind him. The last imp on board had lifted her off the dragon and she flew back towards the end of its tail. She would have fallen off if not for her reflexes by grabbing the dragon’s tail and hugged it as hard as she can.

“GINNY!” cried Ron. Ginny was holding on to dear life while the dragon’s tail was flapping naturally and wildly to control its flight. The imp was also screaming, and it lost its hold of Ginny’s leg, falling down to its death.

Ron tried to let go of his grip off the dragon to get to Ginny, but Hermione saw him and stopped him. “Ron, no! You’ll fall off the dragon, too!”

“Ginny can’t hold on much longer! I must get – to – her!” he said as he struggled with Hermione’s restraint amidst the rocky ride.

Ginny’s squeal told them that she had lost her grip of the Dragon’s tail and had fallen off. The trio screamed for her name. Harry, with admirable presence of mind, pointed the wand at her and bellowed, “Accio!” But to his horror the spell broke because of Ginny’s distance.

She was falling perilously, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione felt as if their stomach had nudged up their throats when the dragon dove around abruptly ahead of Ginny to position itself below her. Getting the idea, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up where Ginny was and she seemed to be just hovering a few feet above them. But in reality they were plunging down the same speed. Fighting the unpleasant feeling of positive g’s, they knew they only had one shot at this as the ground below them – now solid ground - was fast closing in on them. They reached for her with one hand while holding on the dragon with another. Hermione had caught and yanked her on to sit down on top of the Dragon just a few seconds before they rose up to the sky again.

They were all breathless with the close call, and it took a long time for Ginny to catch her breath to say “T-Thanks for that!” shuddering, with an extremely pale face.

This, ultimately, was the wildest ride they ever had in their lives – not even the fastest broomstick in the world could ever match this.

-o0o-

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had all calmed down, feeling all exhausted to talk after the unending rush of adrenaline. They were high above the clouds and they have been cruising with the dragon for thirty minutes. All they could hear were the deafening howling of the wind, and the flapping of the dragon’s wings.

“Hermione!” shouted Harry to his back. “I can’t believe you’re alive – we thought you were dead!”

“What?” yelled Hermione back. “I reckon we’ll be landing soon, let’s talk when we don’t have to shout, shall we?” said Hermione on Harry’s ear, smiling.

Soon they were losing altitude, punching through the clouds and saw all around them rolling hills, forests, and mountains. The dragon picked a hollow in the forest, which look like the one they had been on earlier, and stopped to hover just a few feet above the ground until it settled gently on the soft grass. The dragon snorted, spewing out a ball of flame from its nostrils, signaling everybody that it’s safe to dismount.

Just as soon as they stood on terra firma, Hermione was overwhelmed with the sudden show of affection to her. Harry, Ron, and Ginny hugged her very hard as if they had lost her a million years. “Hey, what’s all with the hugs and kisses?” said Hermione, giggling.

“Hermione, we’re so happy you’re alive,” said Harry, tears running down on his cheeks while he hugged her. “We really believed you were dead! You don’t know how guilty as ever I was for hurting you! Will you ever forgive me?”

“Aw, Harry,” said Hermione returning to her old emotional self. “You don’t need to ask for it – I’m also sorry for keeping things from you. That was really wrong for me, too.“

“If I hadn’t been stubborn back in the Burrow – “

“Guys, guys,” Ginny interrupted. “Let’s just keep it up to there, okay?” she said laughing. Harry and Hermione laughed and agreed, and it was Ron’s turn to deserve a strong hug from Hermione.

Harry looked around at the dragon, which was resting on the grass just beside them, its left eye transfixed sleepily at the sight of hugs. He purred like a kitten, but when he did, black smoke puffed from his nostrils.

“Hermione, I’m impressed,” said Harry. “How – “

“Oh, Harry, don’t you recognize him?” said Hermione brightly.

“Recognize?”

“You know him! It’s Norbert!” Hermione said, laughing and patting Norbert’s foot. There was a pause when Harry and Ron didn’t really get what Hermione said.

“No!” said an unbelieving Harry and Ron.

“Who’s Norbert?” said Ginny, scratching her head. “You mean this thing has a name?”

“Norbert – how did – how can you be so sure?” said Ron, goggling at how big he’d grown.

“Hagrid tattooed his name on Norbert’s belly. Come here look – “ she pulled Harry and Ron where they could see the tattoo better. “Norbert! Roll!”

Norbert obeyed Hermione like puppy, and rolled to his side showing off his tattooed belly. Harry and Ron found it really funny to see a dragon do this, and that Hagrid could be so possessive of pets, even if they were banned.

“But he was so fierce when we last saw him,” said Harry.

“Yeah, because he felt threatened of us then,” replied Hermione. “He was just trying to protect himself. He didn’t hurt me when he brought me someplace to get away from you – I was out for a couple of hours, I reckon. You would have heard me scream for miles around when I came to and seeing him staring down at me, but then I saw the look in his eyes and thought he was very gentle.”

“He recognized you!” said Ron, feeling another rush like a miracle.

“Yeah,” Hermione said, smiling up at Norbert, who was closing his eyes contentedly. “He’s very smart – he showed me his belly by himself. I had to let his pink eye heal for a while before I could get back to you, Harry. When I returned, you were all gone.”

“So how did you find us?”

“The map from the shack. I suspected you were caught by Voldemort’s men and brought to that Xanthius place. You’ll never know how long Norbert and I just flown overhead the castle looking for a sign from you – it was ages! We were about to give up when I saw lots of activity around the grounds, and we knew it was time to act.”

“Whoa,” said Ron. “Good thing the whole ceiling fell down on the right time, otherwise we’d would’ve been a goner.” He wiped some sweat off his brow. “You never knew how Harry fought with himself back there. Tell, her, Harry.”

“Oh, of course,” said Harry. “But, uh, what if the Death Eaters come up suddenly?”

“Xanthius is a hundred-fifty miles from here; besides, we have Norbert,” said Hermione, eager to hear what had happened to Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

“A hundred fifty?” repeated Harry, puzzled. “But when I was blindfolded it seemed only an hour of walking for me.”

“Really,” said Hermione. “Strange, isn’t it? I think they were just trying to confuse you - ” she mused. “Oh, c’mon, don’t keep me in suspense – I wanna hear what happened to you back there!” They sat down on a circle and Harry told her everything, which gave Ginny lots of shivers. He made it a point to tell Hermione about the voice he heard that was hers.

“Wow, you all been through a lot! But, that couldn’t have been me,” said Hermione, after Harry had finished with his story, frowning. “You know I couldn’t say such a thing. I don’t even know telepathy yet.”

“I discovered how, Hermione,” said Ron proudly. “I never knew I could talk to Harry by just concentrating enough. I think that helped.”

“A lot,” said Harry. “Thanks for the help back there, Ron.” Ron smiled.

Hermione looked like someone had bested her again. “Impressive!” she said. “I’ve been trying to do that for ages! You gotta teach me, soon, or else I won’t forgive you,” she joked.

“You know, Hermione,” said Harry slowly. “Your voice sounded real, and I was so guilty! You didn’t forgive me for causing your – death.”

“Harry, listen, that wasn’t me,” Hermione replied softly, running her fingers down on Harry’s cheek, which felt real good for him. “First I’m not dead, and second, I already forgave you even if you didn’t have to ask for it.” Hermione smiled, and Harry returned it.

“Thanks.”

“Voldemort was probably using an advanced form of the Confundus charm,” theorized Hermione. “I’ve read about it. The voice you heard was probably dug in from the depths of your sub-consciousness. You were feeling too sorry about something, and he used that to his fullest advantage. I think that’s how he hoodwinks people into following him. If you gave in, Harry, then God knows what would have happened next.”

Harry gave an involuntary shudder. “Glad I got lucky there – “

“No, Harry,” said Hermione. “Glad you were too strong for him. That’s what tipped the scale.”

Harry sighed. “I guess. We don’t’ have to worry about it now, at least. I don’t want him doing that to me again. After this, what’s next under his sleeve?”

“We’ll just have to be prepared about it,” said Hermione, not knowing how to answer that. They fell silent for a moment.

“When we tell Hagrid about what you did, Norbert,” said Ron, talking to the sleeping dragon, “I think he’ll flood Hogwarts with buckets of tears. He’d be so proud of you.”

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny murmured with agreement. “Okay, we’ve been here a long time,” said Ginny, “when can we get out of here?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Hermione, “Now is a good time. But we can’t ride Norbert to Hogwarts – it’s too dangerous for him. We need to find another way.”

“Aw, shucks, why?” said Ron, and he couldn’t believe he’d never ride Norbert like he had expected. He was quite enjoying it.

“He’s not supposed to get out of bounds,” replied Hermione, disappointed just the same. “I think we’re in one of the dragon reservations for the Ministry of Magic. If he gets out, he could earn a prison term from Dangerous Creatures. Oh, if ever the Ministry would have to search where Xanthius is located, they can just narrow down it down to these reservations.”

“Who wants to get back here?” shivered Ginny. “I’d never want to see You-Know-Who anymore! He scares the hell out of me!” Hermione moved over to comfort her.

“So I guess we have find that Pocket Portkey, Ron,” said Harry, standing up and looking around. “I think it’s left here somewhere if they didn’t bring our things to the castle. It’s in my robe pocket, I think.”

“You had a Pocket Portkey and you didn’t tell me?” said Hermione incredulously. “Oh, I hid your robes and wands right on that spot,” said Hermione to Harry and Ginny, pointing at a mark just a few yards in front of them. “Let’s get it.”

They walked a little, away from the sleeping Norbert. Hermione knelt down on the ground and bushed off a few dead grass from the spot. “It’s here somewhere,” she said when she had not seen anything. “Oh, maybe it’s right up there. I swear I hid them right around here - I couldn’t bring those heavy robes along with me.”

They looked frantically around, looking down at the ground all the time. “That’s impossible,” said Hermione, frowning. “It won’t just go away on its own unless – “

“Unless somebody else had found it,” said Graham Denton the Death Eater in a deep voice and cruel satisfaction.

19. Norbert and Sarah

Chapter 18

“Norbert and Sarah”

Hermione and Ginny screamed. Harry and Ron, meanwhile, just glared at Graham and covered the two girls from the Death Eater’s sight. They all didn’t dare expose their backs to Graham, who was striding slowly at a short distance, pointing a wand at them.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” said Graham, smiling mischievously. He was holding up Harry and Ginny’s robes and threw them as far as he can where they couldn’t reach for it. “Your wands are in there, but you’ll have no use for that. Oh, Nice big dragon you have here.”

“If you don’t get out of here, he’ll crush you,” Hermione warned.

“Ah, don’t worry, I already made sure he can’t do that, miss,” said Graham. Norbert had woken up, but Graham had conjured gigantic ropes tied tightly to all his four feet, and his jaws and nostrils covered with an oversized sack, preventing him to spit out flames. He was struggling to stand up, but with no success, and roared in helplessness. Hermione felt sorry for him and wanted to go over to him, but Ron stopped her, fearing Graham might curse her.

“Foolish of you to hang around on these grounds instead of high-tailing out of here. Now you’ve given me a big favor,” Graham said, seeing the dragon behind him couldn’t do any harm anymore. “You’ve made my job much more easier.”

“What do you want from us?” said Harry furiously. “We haven’t done anything against you – why don’t you just let us be?” Ginny looked frightened behind Ron; dreading Graham might hurt them, neither all of them wanted to make any sudden moves.

“Oh, yes, you have,” said Graham, his face frowning. “You see, I’m the only bounty hunter in the wizard world with such an unblemished reputation – nobody gets away from me when I do my job tracking them; I always turn in the goods to my employers. Aside from serving the Dark Lord, I was more than glad to accept the job from Deadelus to capture you – he contracted to pay me top-Galleon when I deliver you to him so that he could take all the credit of being the one who could bring Harry Potter to You-Know-Who.

“But I didn’t expect you to be that slippery to threaten my perfect record. You don’t know the pains I take to keep it up, and I won’t accept anything than a hundred-percent success rate! Daedelus is getting impatient and is threatening to fire me - now that I’ve spent so much time and energy looking for you.”

“So?” said Harry, his hands balled into fists. Hermione was reaching for her wand behind Harry’s back, but Graham spotted her.

“Expelliarmus!” Graham grunted, and he caught her wand as it flew towards him. “Nice try, girl, but I do have eyes like an eagle,” he said, waving a threatening finger at her. “Don’t do anything silly again or you’ll be regret it.” He threw Hermione’s wand to the heap of robes.

“So,” he continued on as if he wasn’t interrupted, “I’m here to finish what I started. Then I’ll get paid and my success record remains faultless.”

“So you’re going to bring us back to Voldemort, four innocent kids, all for the money and your silly career?” Harry said contemptuously, and Ginny tapped his shoulder nervously.

“H-Harry, p-please don’t wind him up,” she whimpered. Ron was just staring on at Graham, obviously trying to figure out something what to do on his own.

“Correction - only you, Potter,” replied Graham to Harry’s question. “Only you. Your friends are worthless and they will have to die.”

Harry looked back at Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, and now they looked paler than normal.

“And there’s one more important thing I’d like you to know: I won’t forgive you for what you did to me back there in that stupid bloke’s hotel, Potter! I’ve never been out-witted by anyone in my whole career – ever! No Sir! Much less than a fifteen-year-old wet nosed wizard!” He then cursed silently, gritting his teeth.

“Worse, my business rivals are now happily talking about that very humiliating incident around in every pub! AND THAT MAKES ME REAL MAD!” he spat, looking suddenly deranged. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who were literally sticking to each other, gulped and jumped a step back.

“H-He’s an obsessed lunatic!” whispered Hermione alarmingly.

Graham fixed his contorted face back to normal and went on talking. “Ah, that felt good. Where was I – ah, yes - what I want now is your head no less on a platter, Potter. I got to show them I’m still the perfect bounty hunter! They’ll eat their words for making fun out of me! And your friends – your bloody little friends - I’ll bury their mangled bodies in this very hollow, and nobody will ever know what happened to them! Haha! Yes!”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, looked strangely blankly ahead, like they had lost their will to talk after hearing what Graham had said. They were now inching back very slowly, trying to get more distance away from him. The Death Eater found this very amusing and he cackled triumphantly.

“That’s right, kids,” Graham growled, with a cruel laughter, pressing on his psychological advantage. “I know, it’s really natural for anyone to really think my claim for perfection was just a tall story at first. But they’d always realize it sooner or later like what you’re doing now - you’ve obviously learned how to fear me! My face will bore deep into your minds as your worst nightmare, that is if you live that long!”

Still wearing the same terrified faces, the kids didn’t make any further sound - they all whipped around at the same time and ran towards the side of the forest a few dozen yards away, looking positively horrified. They had reached the forest, hid behind some trees and looked back at Graham, who was still standing alone in the middle of the hollow. Norbert kept on fighting to break free from his shackles, crying loudly.

“Ah, you want to play hide and seek with me, huh?” said Graham, who strangely didn’t curse them at all. “Also perhaps throw in a game of tag – that’s my favorite specialty. You can run away wherever you like around here – I can still find you all. Four to one – it doesn’t matter. It’ll surely be more fun if the odds are against me -”

Thump, thump, thump -

Graham fell silent when he felt something massive behind him move, shaking the ground beneath him. He couldn’t believe the dragon had gotten loose with his inescapable bounds – he had made sure it couldn’t. He checked the spot where he thought Norbert was lying down just to be certain. And surely enough, he was still there. “That’s odd,” he gulped, and he had summoned up the courage to look behind his back. What he saw made him scream like a chimp –

Another menacing dragon, much bigger than Norbert (oddly with eyelashes), was glaring down at him at the tip of her nose. She looked very furious while Norbert had fallen silent. Graham was petrified with fear, still screaming and completely forgetting he could do magic. In a split second, the dragon bit Graham whole, shook his body wildly around, and tossed him vertically up the air. While the Death Eater was in mid-air the dragon spit an extraordinarily hot ball of fire, hitting and cooking him instantly before swallowing him for lunch.

“Ewwwww!” Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny sounded at the same time behind the trees. They all shut their eyes, cringing with their hands or arms on their faces.

“Did you see that? That was real gross!” Hermione said, extremely revolted. “Come to think, that almost happened to ME!”

The dragon heard her, and snapped its head at everyone threateningly. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny flinched and hid deeper in the forest, hoping it wouldn’t consider them, too. “Where d’you reckon did that come from?” Harry asked Hermione. She didn’t answer him yet as her eyes were still transfixed at the new dragon, a Hungarian Horntail she reckoned, which now turned its back against them and its attention to Norbert.

“Oh, no, no, please - my wand, my wand,” moaned Ginny. The dragon was stomping its four feet fiercely on the ground, within inches of the heap of robes where their wands were.

“I think we can’t do anything else but to wait until it leaves,” said Harry, worrying about his wand, too. Hermione, however, wasn’t worrying about hers. From her view, she couldn’t tell what the new dragon was doing with Norbert, and it looked like it was about to start eating him, too.

“NORBERT! NORBERT!” she cried, trying to get out of her hiding place and run to him. Ron and Harry caught Hermione by her arms and pulled her back. “Let me go! Norbert’s in trouble!”

“H-Hermione, stay still!” grunted Harry, tugging her. “No! You’ll get - yourself - killed!” Hermione was about to go hysterical, and screamed as the Hungarian Horntail began biting and ripping off Norbert – they actually couldn’t see what was going as they could only see the dragon’s back, and Norbert was lying down looking oddly in peace behind the Horntail.

Ginny looked on in terror – she was thinking of running over to her wand and cursing it for all the good it could do, but she knew it was stupid and decided against it. There was a tense moment that passed when Hermione had lost her voice, and the others looked on helplessly. Then, the Hungarian Horntail flapped its wings and rose up a few dozen feet into the sky – and they could now see Norbert free of the ropes that bounded him.

“H-Hey, look!” said Harry to Hermione, who was still trying to break free from his hold and couldn’t see anything ahead because of the tears welling on her eyes. “I don’t believe it! Norbert’s free – the dragon helped him!”

“W-What?” Hermione sobbed. It was now Norbert’s turn to flap his wings and go up to the sky. He sped to the waiting Horntail that was hovering high up in the air, and when they met in mid-air, they did a spectacular dance in formation flying. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny ran out of the trees to take a better look.

Ron goggled at the incredible sight. “I think Norbert has a – girlfriend!” he said. Ginny was overwhelmed with giggles and was hopping up and down on the ground. Hermione was speechless, wiping off her tears from her cheeks, and she was now laughing.

“I bet Graham made her angry by tying him up!” said Harry, who had his hands on his sides, watching the spectacle. About a minute later the dance stopped. Norbert dove again to the ground back to the hollow and landed softly in front of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Norbert just stood still while the kids ran up to him with joy. Hermione, however, knew by the look in Norbert’s eyes that he was saying goodbye to them, and that somehow made her heart heavier. She was getting very attached to him.

Norbert looked up to the Horntail, and it glided back down to the ground. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny became nervous at first because of what they saw it do earlier – they were thinking of going back to the forest to hide. But the Horntail landed somewhere at a distance to keep them calm. And like a ballerina, she walked slowly and gracefully to Norbert and settled down beside him.

Hands shaking, but knowing it was now okay to approach her, Harry and Hermione reached for her leg (which was the only most reachable part of her anatomy) and ran their hands to feel her hide. She didn’t mind at all, and looked tame like Norbert. Harry said “Thanks for helping, uh, what’s your name?”

“I think she doesn’t have a name yet,” said Ginny, leaning on Norbert’s foot. “Any suggestions?”

“Sarah?” said Hermione quickly. Harry, Ron, and Ginny looked at her at the same time, and she shrugged.

“Yeah, that’s excellent,” said Ron. “Isn’t it, Norbert?” Norbert rumbled his voice gently in agreement.

“I think that’s a yes,” said Harry, laughing. “Er, please take it easy on Norbert, huh?” he told Sarah, winking. The Horntail just blinked her eyes in quick succession.

“Norbert and Sarah!” said Hermione, inhaling proudly. “I think I like the sound of that.”

Upon hearing Hermione’s voice, Norbert bowed his head, looked up to the sky for a few seconds and back to Hermione. Even without saying any words, Hermione knew what that meant.

“Yeah, I guess, this is goodbye,” she said sadly. She went closer to him and ran her hands on his very wide chest. “Thanks for everything, Norbert. You’ve been a real big help. You’ve saved a lot of lives today an’ I don’t know what would happen to us if we hadn’t found you at all. Hagrid will be so proud of you.”

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all said something in concurrence. Hermione couldn’t hug him completely, and she had to make do by pressing herself on his chest. As she broke away (with a new wave of tears again) Sarah had flown off, and Norbert began to flap his wings. Harry and everyone else backed off to a safe distance to watch Norbert rise back to the blue sky and soar off to the horizon, until he disappeared with Sarah behind a very long mountain range.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny kept on staring at the spot where the dragons were last seen for a while, not knowing what to say next. Hermione was sobbing, missing Norbert already, and comforted by Harry. It was Ginny who finally broke the silence.

“Who said being a knight with shining armor were for men only?” she said, even surprising herself. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at her for a few seconds, and laughed.

“That was an amazing scene all right, Sarah rescuing Norbert,” said Ron. “It’d be too embarrassing for me, though, being rescued by a girl – “ Ron stopped when he saw Hermione glaring at him, and he said “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that - ”

“Let’s go home, I think we’ve stayed here long enough already,” said Harry next. “I say I have about had enough with this escape and evasion business.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Hermione, still missing Norbert.

“I think your dad is now really worried about us, Ginny.”

“Oh, yeah. Dad,” said Ginny, suddenly remembering him. “Not only worried, but probably furious, too. I admit he now scares me now more than You-Know-Who. He’d be breathing smoke through his nose.”

-o0o-

And how right Ginny was. Not only was smoke coming out of his nose, but his ears were steaming, too. They were back in the Burrow having used Harry’s Pocket Portkey – Mr. Weasley was beside himself with rage as Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat silently on the large couch. Olga Gargarin and her Aurors were back, listening in to Mr. Weasley’s tirade from the kitchen, while Mrs. Weasley was sitting beside Ron, going through his cuts, bruises, and injuries.

It seemed that it was Ginny who Mr. Weasley was venting his anger to most of the time, but Harry and Hermione knew they were also being scolded the same because they had a direct hand with all of this. Ginny was sobbing and shaking out of fear of her father.

“You could have died with that stunt you pulled, Ginny,” Mr. Weasley roared. “You don’t know how worried we got when we found out the real Portkey was missing - and we couldn’t find you - all three of you! I looked like a real idiot holding and waiting for the Portkey to set off, and the next thing I knew I was holding a teacup!”

“I-I did the switching, Mr. Weasley,” said Hermione nervously. “I t–transfigured the teacup into a bowler hat and – and exchanged it with the Portkey over the fireplace. This was all our idea – ”

Mr. Weasley stared at Hermione with disbelief. Somehow he couldn’t make himself to shout at her, though he was shaking with anger. “H-Hermione –“ he said incredulously.

“And I staged the diversion, Mr. Weasley,” said Harry slowly next. “I stepped on my broken ankle to steer your attention to me while Hermione switched the Portkey.” He drooped his head as soon as he stopped talking.

“I-I don’t believe the three of you,” said Mr. Weasley, shaking his head, not knowing how he could answer that, because all along he thought that was all Ginny’s work. “You all did something very reckless – you kept something from me, and worse, no real qualified wizard had gone with you. What if you all got killed and we’d never ever find you?”

“Well,” said Harry, glancing quickly to Hermione and Ginny, “You-Know-Who almost made it – “

“You-Know-Who? You mean to say You-Know-Who was out there?” Mr. Weasley said, growing pale. Harry just nodded.

“Wait, I don’t understand it – I thought Ron was just kidnapped because some madcap wanted you for whatever reason –“

“It wasn’t just a loony like you thought it was, Dad,” said Ron. “It was really You-Know-Who, and I-I met him, too, Dad.” Ron for the first time started to feel scared of recalling the frightening experience he had. “And if it weren’t for Harry, Hermione, and Ginny’s help, I might be (ulp) dead right now.”

Mrs. Weasley looked up at her husband, her mouth open, feeling truly alarmed with what she heard. Mr. Weasley looked back at her, his forehead now positively sweating. Olga Gargarin and all five Aurors present, entered the sitting room from the kitchen, keenly interested to hear Harry’s story.

“And you saw him, too, Ginny?” asked Mr. Weasley. She nodded without looking up at him. Hermione then said, “I got separated from Harry and Ginny early on, Mr. Weasley, so I didn’t get to see You-Know-Who.”

Mr. Weasley walked around the furniture set, blowing out a nervous breath and wiped off his sweaty brow. He was obviously rattled after realizing that he almost would have met Voldemort if he had gone after Ron by himself, and Harry had the impression Mr. Weasley was never really prepared for that. It could have been quite a nasty surprise for him.

“Harry, can you – could you tell us what happened out there?” said Olga carefully. “If you can – if you want - ”

Harry nodded and told them everything from start to finish. He was used with this, recounting a very harrowing experience when nobody could ever do, or refused to. Dumbledore had given him that courage last year after his third meeting with Voldemort, and the old man was right. It was better to talk about it than keeping it all in.

Everybody went silent as Harry told his story – with the occasional help from Ginny, then Ron and finally Hermione. Olga was so interested she hadn’t moved an inch from where she stood all the while, and her Aurors frenetically took notes like they had struck gold. Harry had told them information that was very new to them, and what interested them so much was Xanthius, the castle Voldemort built. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley stared at the four kids in amazement.

“That was truly amazing,” said Olga when Harry had finished with his story. “And are you really sure Graham Denton and Jack Chadron are dead, Harry? Are you absolutely positive? You will have to give testimony for that to make their death official.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “I couldn’t think of any way for Graham to survive the dragon’s stomach.” He didn’t know why he felt happy for Graham’s demise, but not so much for Jack’s although he had learned to hate him.

“How about turning in Lucius Malfoy, Olga?” Hermione said. “I mean he’s behind all of this, I’m sure.”

Olga sighed. “I’m afraid we don’t have enough proof of his involvement, Hermione. The note you handed in is just circumstantial, and the only thing we have is what you all heard from Jack Chadron, but he can’t back it up since he’s dead. And you really didn’t see his face in that throne room with You-Know-Who – you need to positively identify him to make it count.” Everybody around the sitting groaned in disappointment.

“Slipped again, that bloody bastard,” said Mr. Weasley, who had it in for Lucius Malfoy.

“But we’ll do keep a close eye on Deadelus Lowrie – I knew he was a freaking double agent,” consoled Olga.

“Oh, there’s also a Ministry wizard by the name of Cassius involved, too,” said Hermione. “He had participated in the plot back in Hogwarts –I saw him with Jack Chadron that night in Dumbledore’s office.”

“Ah, that would be Cassius Wallace,” said Olga delightfully, obviously having a grudge with him. “My, oh, my. I think we’re all going to have a real shakeup in the London bureau, Arthur. We’re gonna have some fun after all.”

“I’m quite looking forward to it,” said Mr. Weasley, echoing her enthusiasm.

“Oh, by the way, your staff in the Misuse office is eager to see you back at work. Minister Fudge has approved your reinstatement in light of the twist of events the other day.”

Mr. Weasley nodded happily while Mrs. Weasley shed a few tears of joy. “Yes, I already heard about it, Olga, thanks. In fact I’d be reporting back in an hour. I have my old job back! I owe Hermione for that.”

Everybody around was happy with the fact that the Weasleys would finally be going back to normal from their former state of despair brought about by the cruel subplot to destroy them. Even Harry, Hermione, and Ginny had managed to feel happy in the middle of their anxieties.

“Arthur, I can’t express enough my admiration for what Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione had done,” said Olga, feeling that they had enough tongue-lashing already. “They’re the bravest student wizards I’ve ever met in my life. They’ve been through a lot in the last few days, and nobody I know would dare step and face up to You-Know-Who. That’s not even counting the trouble and distress they’ve experienced back in Hogwarts because of Jack Chadron. Without meddling in your family affairs I must say that you should be very proud of them.” She smiled, and Mr. Weasley now, for the first time since Harry and his friends had popped in the Burrow, felt really relaxed.

“I suppose,” said Mr. Weasley slowly. He looked at Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, who were still avoiding his eyes. He stood up and crouched in front of the couch where they sat.

“Yeah, I can’t deny it, you’ve been through an extraordinary experience,” he said, looking at Harry, Hermione, and Ginny one by one. “You all really did a very incredible thing – reckless, yes, but commendable. And it would really be cruel for me to keep on lashing out at you after the trouble that you have been through for Ron. Harry, Hermione – Ginny, I want to thank you at the bottom of my heart for saving my youngest son’s life. You don’t know how much it means for a father to have his son back alive and safe. I admit I couldn’t do it myself – maybe not even the most qualified wizard could survive facing up to You-Know-Who.

“You’ve shown true bravery to get in there for Ron and admirable presence of mind to get out alive. Without those qualities, you wouldn’t be alive talking to us right now. I’m very proud of you, especially you, Ginny. My little doll had already stood up to You-Know-Who when her pop hadn’t yet!” Ginny raised her head and smiled broadly at her father.

“But – this doesn’t mean you’re off the hook yet,” Mr. Weasley added quickly. “You got to realize the seriousness of what you have done, all three of you. I must ask you to promise me not to do such a stupid and reckless thing ever again. Do you understand? Can you promise me you won’t do it again?”

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all nodded.

“Very good,” said Mr. Weasley. “However, Ginny, you’re grounded the whole of next summer – and I’ll think of one other punishment for you on top of that.” Ginny gasped loudly, but she just nodded again to accept her fate with severe disappointment.

“Hermione, I will talk to your parents soon and you need to explain to them whatever happened to you. I’m afraid I’m also responsible for what you did because you were in my care when you journeyed off. I might lose the privilege to host you in the Burrow, but I hope it won’t get to that point. ” Hermione then looked extremely worried.

“And Harry, I’ll also have a talk with your adoptive parents, well, that is if they want to see me again after that mess in Privet Drive last year,” Mr. Weasley said, frowning. “How could they ever forget those Ton-Tongue Toffees?”

“They’d be furious and disappointed at the same time, too,” said Harry knowingly. “They’ll just punish me for the fact that I missed the perfect chance to get killed.”

Ron snorted.

“Oh, how’s Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall now, Mr.Weasley? Have you heard about them?” asked Hermione, eager for some news about them, and trying to forget her newest problem.

“Ah, yes, they’ve recovered – just this morning,” he replied. “That was one of the best news we had in days. It’s a bit strange, though. They just woke up suddenly at the same time, and walked on like nothing bad happened to them.”

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looked at each other and found that weird, too. “So you mean Hogwarts is back to normal then?” said Harry expectantly.

“Yes, and that reminds me – tomorrow you’re all going to ride the train back to Hogwarts. Dumbledore will be expecting you in the evening and he specifically asked for a meeting with the four of you in his office as soon as you arrive. A little debriefing, I reckon, to tie all the loose ends. Nothing to worry about.”

“And to make my two-week detention official, I think,” Ron groaned.

“That, too,” Mr. Weasley said, jabbing a finger.

“You’ll also have a lot of catching up to do in class,” said Mrs. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley stood up. “Right, then, I think I’ll go back to work,” he said, kissing Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. “See you all at supper tonight – Fred and George will be coming home and we’ll all have a nice long talk. It’s good to be back to normal. Olga, shall we?”

“We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us, too,” said Olga, preparing to leave. “There’s going to be mayhem back in the Ministry in a long time, I expect. I think it’ll be over the Daily Prophet in the next few weeks.” Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up courteously to see her and the Aurors off.

“As always, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and now Ginny, should you need me or get into trouble again – “ she added smiling, and catching Mr. Weasley’s roll his eyes, “just call my name.” She all shook hands with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Olga had a special relationship with Hermione, and they both hugged very tightly.

“Thanks,” they all said at the same time, smiling back.

As soon as Mr. Weasley and his guests had gone, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat back on the couch and fell silent, left to their own individual thoughts. The reality and dangers of their close calls with Voldemort and other events had finally caught up with them.

“Best if you all wash up while I whip you up some lunch, something delicious,” said Mrs. Weasely, reading the look on their pensive faces. “Then you need all the rest and relaxation you can get. Don’t stop yourself from ever discussing among yourselves what you have gone through. It helps a lot.” Mrs. Weasley, like a loving mother hen, got up, kissed everyone on the cheek, and flexed her hands for some serious cooking ahead.

-o0o-

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny didn’t really talk much about their latest experience like Mrs. Weasley had suggested, and after their delectable lunch they all separated, seemingly preferring to be with no one else for a while.

Harry knew how to spend his time alone and wrote Willard a letter up in Ron’s room. He hoped was all right back in his inn, and he thanked him dozens of times in the same letter for his help. He’d written about what had happened to them after they last saw each other, and Harry was certain Willard would be quite shocked to know what they’ve been through. He ended his letter asking Willard to write back soon.

Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley had agreed to let Harry use Errol to deliver the mail to Willard. The owl was perched on Ron’s windowsill, waiting for Harry to tie the envelope to his legs. When Errol had flown off with the letter, Harry saw from Ron’s window that Hermione and Ginny were already talking together at the Weasley’s picnic table under the shade of a large Yew tree. He decided that he wanted to join them and ran down the stairs towards the backyard. Ron was thinking the same thing, and he caught up with Harry as he was just walking out from the house. Ron had just returned from his secret hiding place near the river, and Harry believed he had used his time alone to pull himself through, too.

Hermione and Ginny smiled when they saw Harry and Ron approach, and it felt good for everybody to be back together again, hopefully feeling much better than they were a few hours ago.

“You both okay?” said Harry as he sat down on the bench beside Hermione.

“Yeah, I miss Norbert a little, but I think we’re okay now, thanks,” said Hermione, managing a very pretty smile. Harry somehow felt very happy to see her.

The foursome had a very wholesome discussion about their latest escapade; from how it all began, where they had gotten to, and what actions they did, culminating to their final face-up with Voldemort, their conspiracy theories, Lucius Malfoy, and the issue with Death Eaters in the Ministry. Not even the talk about Voldemort could dampen their spirits again, and that was a very good sign.

Ron had found a lot of things funny to talk about in their latest adventure, and Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were doubling up with well-needed laughter. It’s generally fun reliving something as long as it turned out okay.

“How long have you gotten over this feeling last year, Harry?” said Ron when he finally ran out of funny stories to tell. “I mean, after you met You-Know-Who?”

“I couldn’t talk all week, you remember that, don’t you?” recalled Harry. “Funny, it seems I don’t feel that way anymore – like it’s just getting more routine.”

“Well, that’s good for you,” said Ginny, “As for me, I’d never want to sleep with the lights out anymore – his face just keeps on popping in my head. He still scares me, you know!”

“Yeah, that’s just natural, but I think you’re doing surprisingly well dealing with it, Ginny,” said Harry seriously. “You’re talking about him pretty casually when other people older than you would just go paranoid.”

“Yeah, you have a point, I guess,” said Ginny, feeling at least a little better. “Or maybe I’m just lucky I had you and Ron around. Or else, I would’ve gone over to the deep end, I’m sure.” Harry smiled broadly at her, and she blushed.

“And Harry – “

“Yes?”

“Thanks for giving me that chance to be like Hermione for a while,” Ginny confided slowly, feeling embarrassed to say that with Hermione around. Hermione looked at her with interest, puzzled why Ginny had said that.

“You know how I’ve heard a lot about your early adventures, and I always wanted to be a part of them. This time my wish came true; I felt that had stepped in Hermione’s shoes, and experienced what it was like to be with you and Ron. It was good, and I’ll never forget it for the rest of my life. Not only that it was the scariest moment of my life, it was also the coolest. I can’t wait to tell my classmates, they’ll be excited to hear what really happened to us out there!”

Harry didn’t know how to answer that, but he was glad to see Ginny finally seeing things very positively. He could only say, “Uh, you’re welcome. Ginny. And thanks for your help, really.” Hermione was rather flattered with Ginny’s fantasies to be like her.

“Oh, don’t worry about me anymore, Harry,” said Ginny. “I’ll behave from now on - I’ve had enough excitement to last me a lifetime and - ” Ginny glanced at Hermione and back to Harry. “And Hermione wants to ask you something very personal – “ Ginny said quickly, springing up from her sitting position, and fled, leaving Hermione open mouthed.

“So, what do we…” Ron began, but was suddenly yanked away by Ginny, who doubled back. They were out of earshot before Harry could stop them. There was a tense moment when Harry and Hermione just sat at the table under the tree, saying nothing. Ron really didn’t go inside the house like he said because he zoomed around with a broomstick with Ginny, who threw balls of colorful thread in the air for Ron to catch.

“Nice day isn’t it?” Harry said tensely. “Uhm, so what is it you want to talk about, Hermione?”

Hermione just sat in front of him stiffly. Her eyes couldn’t stay still, and she was obviously fighting with herself. “Oh, this is silly. Please forget it, Harry, nothing,” she finally said, running off instantly back to the house, and leaving a bewildered Harry alone under the large Yew tree.

Chapter 19 coming. I think that’ll really be the last chapter if an epilogue won’t be necessary.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It doesn’t have much action like before because I have to tone things down now as we’re approaching the end. The next one will just resolve a few story issues in the guise of a whole chapter. Thanks very much to MidnightShadow for posting that very inspiring review! Also thanks to Muirnin for reviewing twice!

20. Feelings Revealed

Chapter 19 “Feelings Revealed”

Whatever Hermione wanted to say to Harry that afternoon, they both didn’t have the chance to talk about it for they had been together with either Ron or Ginny most of the time. Harry naturally wanted to know what was troubling Hermione again, but somehow he had slightly given up trying after seeing her seemingly returning back to her normal self - worrying about the lessons she missed and making up for them by studying some of Percy’s books, which Harry and Ron knew they didn’t have to open until their seventh year.

At least there was something that Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys to look for that night before going back to their usual stupor in Hogwarts (although they were quite looking forward to going back there). Fred and George had agreed to suspend their new joke shop business and return to the Burrow to get back to school the next day, Charlie (the second eldest) was due for the first day of his vacation this year from studying dragons, and Mrs. Weasley had cooked up the largest feast her family had for years. Clearly, there was a scent of a well-deserved party in the Burrow tonight, celebrating their good fortune.

Mr. Weasley had come back from work, accompanied by Fred, George, and Charlie. Everybody was ecstatic when they all greeted each other, but they didn’t wait for another second to scramble for seats at the large Weasley dining table. No less than three large deep-fried whole chickens were already atop ready to be gulped down, adorned by mounds of potatoes, steak, corn, cake, and the best-tasting pumpkin juice Harry had ever savored.

“Wow, what’s this all for, Mum, or are you just all happy to see me?” said Charlie, who obviously missed homemade cooking.

“You’ll never know what happened while you were away, Charlie,” said Mr. Weasley, who had the highest of spirits around. “We’ve been through the toughest times in our life, but we’ve pulled trough again, thanks to the help of Harry and Hermione here! The best bit of news I had today at work was that Lucius Malfoy has been suspended from the Ministry.”

Everyone cheered and clapped their hands, especially Ron and Hermione who had the most extreme dislike towards the elder Malfoy. “But I thought Professor Gargarin said we didn’t have enough evidence against him, Mr. Weasley,” said Hermione.

“No, but we didn’t take into account whose handwriting it was in the note that Harry found in Chadron’s room,” said Mr. Weasley happily. “It looked like his, and extra searches in the Head Boy’s quarters netted a few more and they’ll be scrutinized. Cornelius Fudge believed there was reasonable doubt to Malfoy’s non-involvement, so while the investigation drones on, he has to be in floating status so he couldn’t curse anyone trying to pin him down.”

“That will shut up Draco Malfoy for sure,” said George with delight. “And remember, Lucius was also sacked as Governor of Hogwarts three years ago. This’ll be another humongous embarrassment for his name.”

“I say it’s karma,” added Fred, with extreme satisfaction. “He’s so determined to wreck us he’d go to any lengths to do it, and look where it got him.”

“Yeah, he might still be cleared in the end, but the damage is done and that’s worth a thousand Galleons for me anytime,” said Ron with glee.

“Serves him right for wishing we’d become poorer,” said Mr. Weasley huffily. “It’s funny, he was spitting out about getting back at Mudbloods when he stormed out of the Ministry today – I don’t see any connection at all since we were his targets all along – “ Harry heard murmurs of agreement from almost everybody.

“The other best thing is that the Daily Prophet will carry out a story in its front page to clear Ron of taking any part of the grand conspiracy,” announced Mr. Weasley happily, and seconds later every goblet around the table were clinking.

Charlie was eager to hear what really happened right from the start. Harry was more than happy to fill him in with every detail amid the oohs and ahhhs from Fred and George. What piqued Charlie’s interest was the story about Norbert and Sarah.

“Really, that’s amazing,” said Charlie, his pudding forgotten. “I always knew dragons had intelligence of some sort, but never in that level – my friends think I’m nuts when I keep telling them dragons mind other things, too, more than their eggs.”

“And we’re so lucky to find Norbert there of all dragons,” said Harry. “Weren’t we?”

“So very lucky,” Hermione sighed.

“Right, I don’t want to think what might have happened to Hermione if it weren’t Norbert you crossed,” Charlie let out a horrified face. “Then you must’ve been in the Chamfield Reservation – that’s where I freed Norbert when he was old enough to live wildly,” said Charlie thoughtfully. “If so, we might be able to find You-Know-Who’s castle hidden somewhere near there.”

“As long as it’s not unplottable,” added Hermione. “Or else you’d take forever to find it.” Charlie and Mr. Weasley nodded.

“Oh, I just remembered something,” said Mr.Weasley. “Cornelius Fudge specifically asked me to give this to you, Hermione.” Harry and Ron stared interestedly at Hermione as Mr. Weasley reached for something in his robes. He held out a rolled parchment and Hermione untangled the single ribbon that sealed it. Harry had to read what was written on the parchment behind Hermione, who was speechless.

Cerificate of Recognition and Honorary Membership

The Ministry of Magic is proud to present Miss Hermione Granger this Certificate of Recognition for her outstanding courage and investigative skills, which has tremendously aided the definitive resolution of London Bureau Case Number 109283-03.

This citation also certifies that the abovementioned named has been granted Honorary Membership for Underage Wizards to the Ministry of Magic, London and will enjoy the rights, benefits, and privileges accorded to her by such membership.

Signed,

Cornelius Fudge

Minister of Magic, London

Everybody around the table cheered and patted a teary eyed Hermione, although she actually didn’t know what this really meant. Nevertheless she knew this was something special and to be proud of.

“This doesn’t mean you can go sleuthing you want, Hermione,” said Mr. Weasley, smiling, “but you’ll now be taken seriously when you say something in the Ministry, you’ll receive a 50-Galleon grant every term until you graduate, and it’ll be easier for you to find a respectable job in the Ministry if you want to work there. Not bad. Not bad at all, right?”

Hermione, still speechless, nodded her head happily, and she looked at Harry who was beaming the most. “Wow, I’m jealous,” goggled Ron.

“I got to give Dobby a set of socks and scarves – without him, I wouldn’t have found that Sneakoscope,” said Hermione thoughtfully.

“And I’m giving him my entire collection of maroon jumpers,” said Ron, grinning, not noticing his mum’s sharp stare. “I owe him.”

“Along with that, Hermione, I think I’m ready to take back my plans to tell on your parents,” said Mr. Weasely. “You’re the real heroine; I owe you for doing everything to clear Ron and our name. I also owe Harry for saving Ron twice, so I won’t give the Dursleys another reason to lock him up in his room again. Ginny’s free next Summer, too.” Harry, Hermione, and Ginny didn’t bother to hide their joy with Mr.Weasley’s sudden change of heart. “But you won’t get off easily the next time around,” laughed Mr.Weasley.

The rest of the night was very tremendously festive, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione thought they would never probably see a night in the Burrow with the Weasleys as blissful as this one.

-o0o-

The journey back to Hogwarts in the Hogwarts Express the next day was none different than any other trip they’ve taken, except for the fact that Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George had the train all to themselves for the first time ever (and probably the last). That meant they could walk around the cabins and make a ruckus inside as much as they want without anyone telling them off. Hermione thought Harry, Ron, and the twins were acting childishly as they ran around almost endlessly inside the train, sometimes pretending to be sword dueling with their wands.

“Oh, come on, Hermione,” said Fred, panting. “Lighten up. When do you think can we ever do a thing this good again?”

“Yeah, give us a break,” said George with a mock pleading look on his face. “We’re already graduating this year, right? And for the first time in our lives there’re no prefects to catch us in here – oops, my mistake,” he quickly said, grinning, when Hermione brandished her prefect’s badge with a snigger. While she was generally against the boys’ conduct, she had joined in the end, and it was the witch with the trolley who in the end told them to behave just a few minutes left through the trip.

Just as they were told, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny reported to Dumbledore in his office as soon as they arrived before supper.

“Welcome back! Good to see you all again in one piece,” said Dumbledore jovially, looking pleased, and sitting behind his enormous desk in the Headmaster’s office. The four kids stood abreast in front of him as Professor McGonagall looked on proudly.

“It’s great to see you in good health again, sir,” said Harry.

“Feels great, too,” said Dumbledore, jabbing his fists in the air like a boxer, which Ron found very funny. “I’m grateful with your and Miss Granger’s efforts to get to the truth, because without your direct intervention, Professor McGonagall and I would probably never have come back.

“Also, I’m thankful just the same that Mr. Weasley here is innocent of the crime he was accused of. Even though I knew who really attempted the Death Curse, I wouldn’t have been able to give testimony for Mr. Weasley due to my dreadful condition. Ultimately you have prevented Hogwarts from further falling to Lord Voldemort’s hands, and the four of you deserve special awards for services of this school.”

“Thank you sir,” said Harry in behalf of his friends. “But, all we did was try to save Ron from being killed in Azkaban at first and from Voldemort in the end – I don’t know how we have saved Hogwarts with that.”

“You did, actually,” said Dumbledore, smiling, and getting a baffled look from Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. “Let me explain - ” Dumbledore shifted to a more comfortable position on his chair.

“Professor Gargarin told me about your story and what happened in Lord Voldemort’s stronghold. As long as I was alive, barely, at least, Lord Voldemort couldn’t complete his objective of taking over Hogwarts – the magic in the air when I’m here is still too strong for him. Jack Chadron had tried to use a Death Curse against me to pave the way for Lord Voldemort but it didn’t work, as it should have, because he had used a wand not his own. The curse causes a different effect on such conditions, and the only way to reverse the spell is for the wizard who cast it will have to repent for his crime wholeheartedly. As I understand it from your story, Jack Chadron had seen the light and error in his ways, he regretted what he did, felt real sorry for it - that’s why he had asked for your forgiveness, and that was enough to break me from his spell. It’s magic at one of it most deepest mysteries.”

“But after all the things he did against us I don’t think he ever deserves our forgiveness, right?” said Ron angrily.

“Yes, I know it’s difficult for all of us to pardon him because his crime was naturally unforgivable if you’d ask anyone, but the important thing is, he felt sorry for his wrongdoings and vowed never to do it again. Now, you’d ask me how I’m sure of that, and the only proof I need that he did is I’m talking with you right now. Without such resolve, I wouldn’t have recovered from that endless sleep.

“To be forgiven, one must ask for forgiveness to whoever he has sinned against. It is one of the first steps toward redemption; to deserve such gift, one must promise not to do it again, and to make good on his promise. But, of course, the forgiveness won’t come without paying the price for such sins, and we must all still be responsible for our actions and suffer the consequences.

“Harry, I’m asking you, how would it feel like you know you have done something wrong against a loved one and you’d ask for forgiveness from him or her and not being given chance at all even though you’d never want to do it again?”

“It would hurt a lot, and it would seem unfair, if only he’d listen,” replied Harry slowly.

“Exactly,” said Dumbledore. “You should feel fortunate that you’re among the few ones on Earth to have real loving friends who readily forgive you for your mistakes even without you asking for it. Additionally, it’s very, very rare to find friends who don’t demand payment for your faults in return for outright forgiveness, because in true friendship there is mutual trust and understanding.

“Jack felt genuinely sorry for everything, and since you didn’t forgive him when he asked you, he had to prove his resolve by helping you escape Lord Voldemort, unfortunately resulting in his death. No, Harry, I’m not saying that you were responsible for his death because he had it coming and he paid dearly for his transgressions. As for you, Harry, the power of love and forgiveness saved your life.” Dumbledore said, giving Hermione a meaningful glance; she turned pink around the cheeks, which Harry caught. Ron, however, was busy absorbing everything Dumbledore had said and looked lost.

“Professor, Voldemort showed me how you defeated the Dark Wizard Grindewald,” said Harry. “Why did he kill himself?”

“Ah, I see you already know about that,” chuckled Dumbledore. “Not too many know about it, actually. Let me remember for a moment - ah, yes, he felt severely depressed because he realized too late that he committed the most ruthless things most inhuman to imagine. The only problem was nobody was ever willing to forgive him anymore. He had destroyed the lives of millions of people by genocide, and when it came for him to repent, it was all too late.

“What he did was to kill himself instead of accepting the consequences for his crime and pay for them for the rest of his life; he felt he had no other way out but death and take the ‘easy’ way out, which was a very big mistake. Yes, death in whatever form may effectively make you forget your past and never have to deal with the guilt for the rest of your life, but death by anybody’s hands, especially your own, is not the only solution to every insurmountable problem; it is cowardice. It’s far more courageous to face the future accepting the consequences of your actions than turning your back on it.”

“So, Professor, if Grindewald had ever asked for your forgiveness, would you have given it to him despite his crimes?”

“Yes, Harry, personally I would have, even if people may have thought I was nutters,” said Dumbledore. “But Grindewald would’ve still had to answer to other millions more, which admittedly, is an almost impossible feat for anyone. However, if he chose to face a life of endless guilt rather the easy way out, it would have earned him my deepest respect. He almost made the right decision, the chance for it was staring at him right at his face, but regrettably he was so full of himself and he didn’t make it.”

Harry couldn’t help but wonder how Dumbledore knew about everything that was going on with him and his friends even though he’d slept through the whole thing. He thought that somehow this talk about forgiveness and responsibility for one’s actions have had some kind of relation to what happened to him, Ron, and Hermione just a few days ago. He could remember quite vividly he hurt Hermione’s feelings at one point, and he felt real bad about it when he had no chance to ask for her forgiveness for being a jerk. The next thing was that he was wishing to be dead just to forget (and made to forget) about the guilt he felt for Hermione’s loss, and then came Jack Chadron’s manifestation for his genuine desire for Harry and Ron to pardon him though he didn’t get it (accidentally killing himself just to prove he was sincere). The greatest thing for Harry was that Hermione knew how to forgive him for almost killing her without him even asking for it, and for that he felt blessed to have a friend like her who had loyalty for him beyond belief. Or maybe she only felt too relieved the dragon turned out to be Norbert that she was just too happy to forgive him, he thought. Or maybe there was something else. Could it be what Hermione had wanted to talk about with him yesterday? Whatever feeling she had that day for him, he really wanted to know, and he made it a point to corner Hermione somewhere if not tonight, soon.

“Now, if you would,” Dumbledore started after a few silent moments, “we’re going to have a special feast in the Great Hall with the rest of the school, and I’d want you to be there for everyone to see. I’ll have to make a few announcements, too. Then I’ll need to return to this office later to write a few clearance letters to Beatrice Runeshark – she had given up issuing Underage Wizardry violations for you all.” Dumbledore chortled.

“Not to worry, I can take care of it – every magic you used today was for the good of this school I’m sure. And, Mr. Weasley, I believe our last meeting wasn’t resolved at all, and we’ll talk about your detention same time tomorrow night.”

Ron groaned but accepted he couldn’t get away from detention at all. “I hope with no more Head Boys around,” he said remembering the incident in the same room a few days earlier.

“Ah, that might be possible, all the prefects have yet to meet to vote for a new one,” replied Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. “Dear me, I hope we aren’t starting a new tradition of changing Head Boys more than once a year – we’re already running through with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers…”

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione laughed.

“I guess Professor Russelpunk will break the curse of the Defense Against the Darks arts teacher this year – the only problem to that is he is totally oblivious to so-called curse, which I had no heart to tell him last Summer. I was getting desperate when nobody applied for the job in August.” Dumbledore winked. “See you all again soon, I hope you’ll come to normal after your perilous adventure.”

Harry, Ron, and Ginny said good night to Dumbledore and moved towards the door. Hermione, however, stood still on the spot.

“Hermione?” called Harry, stopping at the doorway to wait for her.

Hermione breathed, tightened her lips, and then glanced at Dumbledore, who smiled at her patiently. “Headmaster, if it’s possible, could I talk to you in private?” she said tentatively.

-o0o-

As soon as Harry, Ron, and Ginny had left the Headmaster’s office, Dumbledore offered Hermione a seat, which she gratefully took.

“Is there something that’s troubling you, Hermione?” he asked warmly.

“Yes sir, there is,” she replied cautiously, and then breathed deeply to prepare herself. “Ginny and talked about what happened back in Xanthius, and she told me about the very thing that Lord Voldemort had used to persuade Harry to join him. Voldemort had been attempting with no real success to break Harry with the guilt causing my ‘death’ and he was so remorseful about it. But as Ginny had observed, she knew there was something more profound than just the guilt Harry had been agonizing with. Voldemort knew something else about how Harry…felt about me. Voldemort seemed to use it to his fullest advantage because of what he knew.”

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. “I thought you’d never talk to me about this. Continue, please…”

“Thank you, sir. It’s really a shame someone as evil as Lord Voldemort could be the one to make me realize the - feelings - I thought I had for Harry ever existed. I mean, it’s been there for ages – but…I was afraid to tell it to him because I might make him mad about me or something…

Dumbledore put a hand gently to cover his mouth and chuckled, which made Hermione blush. “My apologies, Hermione.”

“It’s quite allright, Headmaster,” she laughed. “Yeah, I know you’re the last person I could talk to about this, but I had made a startling connection with something that happened to us recently. You remember about the protective aura we had that the Oarling could never penetrate?”

“Vividly, Hermione.”

“Well, I read about it in one of Percy Weasley’s books at the Burrow and found out something about it that made me feel – er, mushy.” Hermione sat up awkwardly on her chair.

“Unlike the reason you told us,” she continued after regaining herself, “it’s only supposed to happen with special conditions like our birthdays, the blood running in our veins, the feelings we share at the moment and many more. One thing that struck me is that only two people who are especially attached to each other could actually conjure it, not three like you said.”

Dumbledore nodded slowly and fixed his half-moon spectacles firmly on his nose. “I’ve expected you would come up with this someday, but not this quick. But knowing how brilliant and curious you are, anything is possible.” He breathed and chuckled again.

“I didn’t tell you no lies back at the hospital wing the night of the Oarling, Hermione, if you were suspecting such a thing. It wasn’t the right place to talk about the real causes – it’s too personal with Harry, Ron, and Professor Gargarin around - since I wasn’t sure who really conjured nearly half the aura back in the dungeons. It could have been either Harry or Ron. You and your friends had actually conjured that aura, that’s the truth – but I knew true love between a gifted wizard and witch was the most essential requirement to produce it. Do you remember anything significant immediately before the aura had begun to manifest itself?”

Hermione thought deeply about the events during that night. What she then remembered make her drop her breath and widen her eyes in mild shock. “I – I heard Harry shout something. He was the only one I could hear…he said “We love you – I love you…” she trailed off.

Dumbledore smiled. “And what did you feel?”

Hermione swallowed when she understood. She thought she was having false hopes of getting much closer than a friend with Harry for years. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she was lost for words to say.

“That’s right, Hermione. You felt the same for Harry. Ron at the same time was there because he loved you, too, but merely as a friend. Because of him the aura, already too powerful to begin with, was enhanced to a level that the Oarling could have never imagined could be attained. The extra power that Ron contributed was very small compared to yours and Harry’s, but nonetheless had made a vital contribution that night. I never knew who between Harry or Ron had the special bond with you, so I – well, chose to leave it for you to discover on your own, but I did have a hunch, and I’m glad I was right all along.

“Nevertheless, I was very certain you had the power to conjure it regardless. You must take this into account, Hermione, is that it was only Harry’s voice that you heard. The aura poured out from both of you. If you haven’t heard Harry say those words, it would have never happened.”

Hermione steered her teary eyes at Dumbledore. She felt very happy, though she still had some lingering skepticism hanging around her heart.

“Hermione, it is now proof that I myself can’t dispute. It establishes very clearly that Harry loves you more than a friend, even if he apparently doesn’t know it yet. His love for you just flowed out of his heart naturally that night with the Oarling.”

Dumbledore then beamed at Hermione for a long, long time.

-o0o-

Hermione didn’t know how to deal with Dumbledore’s revelation the night before – even though she had always sensed there was something deeper she felt for Harry inside her for years, but never from Harry. Harry had not shown any form of attraction to her since they first knew each other, except for the concern he had shown for her safety and his boundless loyalty toward her.

She was mystified why it all came so suddenly if Harry had not known about his feelings towards her. But knowing he had it all the time, Hermione had a extraordinary feeling that gave her a spring on her step as she got out of the Gryffindor tower the next morning. She had never felt so special with Harry in her whole life, and it was so wonderful. Sadly, though, since she was the girl, she would have to suffer the pain waiting for Harry to have the courage to pour out his feelings towards her. Knowing him, it would probably take forever!

But she was sure she could still patiently wait. She knew she could be as patient as a snail moving along a hundred Quidditch pitches. She also knew herself not the type to flirt with Harry to induce a romantic conversation from him, which she absolutely didn’t find a big loss at all – she was completely happy being herself. She wanted the feeling to flow out of him naturally – he had to realize it and find out for himself.

But she could still scream it into his ear if he proves to be insufferably numb to all her signals, though. That will come as a last resort, she thought, laughing to herself.

She met Harry and Ron on the way to the Great Hall. Aside from the spike of excitement she now felt in her chest upon seeing Harry (who looked a little bit more handsome to her than she had ever seen him before) she was remarkably still the same Hermione that the two boys knew all these years.

“You look pretty jolly about something today, Hermione,” said Harry, grinning.

“You bet!” she replied, skipping, when she had walked abreast with him and Ron.

“Any chance of us knowing what it is?”

“There is, but I’m not telling…” she teased and giggled, making Harry moan loudly. Harry shrugged and laughed softly, knowing he can’t make Hermione talk so easily about her secrets, but equally happy with her nonetheless whatever made her happy that morning.

On top of that, the trio got a very pleasant surprise upon entering the Great Hall.

All the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, some Slytherins, and all teachers (except one, obviously) gave the trio a rousing hero’s welcome when they entered the Great Hall. Seemingly all hands in the school had patted their backs and made a mess of their hair, and the cheering was totally deafening for the trio, but they didn’t care. It was the kind of cheering Snape would’ve wanted for his former pet, Jack Chadron. Ironically, it was now Jack Chadron who became the latest embarrassment and smudge for the Slytherin house. Beaming broadly along the teachers’ table were Dumbledore and Hagrid, who were both clapping their hands heavily, and Professor McGonagall who was shedding tears of pride.

“Dean! Neville!” cried Hermione when she saw them fighting through the sea of black robes trying to reach her, Harry, and Ron.

“Yeah, you showed them!” yelled Dean, snatching a glance towards the Malfoy and Snape as he embraced each of the trio. “We got out from our hiding place just today, can you believe we survived that?”

“No kidding!” said an impressed Hermione, who knew what Dean and Neville had gone through. “Oh, I see you’ve forgotten to shave!” The two boys had grown a few inches of hair around their faces and it looked like they had little beards.

“Yeah, I know,” said Neville cheerfully as most of the students were returning to their seats. “I think we’re keeping it for a couple of days if no one minds at all.” He had taken a bit off a scrumptious looking vanilla cupcake from the top of the still devoid-of-food Gryffindor table and –

FWUMP!

The Gryffindor table roared with laughter as Neville, still oblivious of what was happening, stood in the middle of an aisle with all of his hair turned whiter than Dumbledore’s. Suddenly he looked fifty years older than him. Fred and George traded high-fives and everybody knew the cake came from the twins, and Dumbledore grinned in their direction.

“Not punishable by detention, too, Severus,” Dumbledore said to Snape, who was sitting beside him. He looked grumpy.

“Aging Angel Cakes,” George publicized. “Three to a sickle! One of our newest items for the next line of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezies, opening soon after graduation!” Harry, Ron, and Hermione clapped their hands loudly while they fought to regain normal breathing.

“I think I’ll just shave this beard off tonight after all,” Neville hooted when his hair was returning to jet-black. The Weasley twins had finally filled back the life in Hogwarts that had become missing after the conspiracy to kill Dumbledore had begun. Hogwarts was at last complete again, except for the former Head Boy whose bench was still unoccupied.

-o0o-

It was a Saturday the next day, and this allowed Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny more time to recuperate ahead of their arduous schoolwork expected in this part of the term. They had just finished breakfast, and like clockwork, Owl Post had arrived. Dozens of owls delivered mail down to their eager owners.

Hermione opened up her copy of the Daily Prophet while Harry had only one letter today, but he was ecstatic to know it was from Willard. Harry and Ron were really anxious to hear from their only known friend outside of home and Hogwarts; they read it aloud while Hermione was listening on intently.

Dear Harry,

You’d never know how thrilled I was to get a letter from you. I was wondering what might have happened to you after that Graham bloke managed to curse me and break my rib into telling where you were heading the night we last saw each other. I’m sorry about that –

“Aw,” said Ron. “Poor Willard. We gotta make it up for him.”

“But don’t worry about me, I’m recuperating and soon my brother will bring over the little doctor in my family to mend my rib. Anyway, the Daily Prophet cover story for today was enough to make me relax about you and Ron. You’ve done it and I’m so proud of being part of it!”

“He doesn’t know about Hermione yet,” said Harry, smiling, making her blush.

“Well, Stephanie, you know, my niece, reckons it’s about time I need to finish my wizard training. I don’t know, but it might be worth it. Well, that is, if I get over the funny feeling of having classmates forty years younger than me around. So I think I’ll just spend more time on my hobby and expanding my business. Zack (You remember him back at Froth’s, do you?) finally gave up his pub. Reckons he can’t take it with hags secretly adding toenails to his customers’ drinks anymore. He left me the key and I’m having a hard time thinking what to do with the pub, but I think I’ll add Portkey and Owl Post service to my hotel.

“I think your owl is getting impatient, so I think this is where I’ll go for now. Thanks very much for writing, and I’m hoping to hear from you again soon.

Willard

P.S. Stephanie wants to keep all your letters. She’s going to show it off to her classmates at school.”

“Well, I’m glad Willard’s okay,” said Harry happily. “I was beginning to worry about him.”

“From what you’ve told me about him he’s really wonderful,” said Hermione. “Imagine all the help he gave you – I’d like to meet him someday.”

“Hey, Hermione, so let’s see what’s in the Daily Prophet,” said Ron, and Hermione happily obliged.

“Hey, I think this is it,” said Ron, pointing to a main banner.

Conspiracy to Kill Dumbledore Solved

The Ministry of Magic today confirmed reports that the culprit of the plot to kill Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has been identified.

Incriminating evidence turned in to the Ministry by a fifth year Hogwarts student, Miss Hermione Granger, with the assistance of her close friend Harry Potter, has single-handedly cracked the case in the mystery surrounding the attempt on the life of the Dumbledore, who, along with fellow victim Professor Minerva McGonagall, have fully recovered.”

“Whoa, that’s great! You’re making me proud of you again, Hermione,” said Ron, munching his toast. Hermione was getting more flattered with all the attention.

“’The alleged lone perpetrator was identified as Jack Chadron, the recent Hogwarts Head Boy,’ announced Honorable Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic in a press conference. ‘He believed he was doing a service to You-Know-Who, which we all know has been thwarted by none other than Harry Potter fifteen years ago. It is unfortunate that we still have a share of deranged minds in the wizard society, and it is more disturbing to know that even young wizards in training are still aspiring for the Dark Arts to serve a defeated enemy… I reiterate my stand that You-Know-Who does not, I repeat, does not exist anymore despite the insistence of others who believe otherwise.’

Jack Chadron was killed in a battle with Ministry Wizards where he went into hiding north of Scotland after being implicated by Miss Granger’s evidence pointing him as the culprit.”

“I can’t believe he’s still that ignorant of what’s happening all around us,” said Harry angrily. “He’s still covering up the true facts!”

“Yeah, that’s quite dangerous – I’m sure Dumbledore isn’t pleased about Fudge at all,” Hermione said looking at Dumbledore who was eating his fruit merrily. Harry read on.

“In light of these developments, the Ministry of Magic wishes to point out that, Ronald Weasley, the fifth-year Hogwarts student who was earlier accused for the crime, had no participation whatsoever with the plot to kill Dumbledore. ‘The boy escaped with the help of Harry Potter from being incarcerated to Azkaban with the valid fear that there was also a sub-plot to silence the former accused in the prison to cover up for Mr. Chadron,’ Minister Fudge said. ‘Harry Potter only did that to save his best friend during a time we wouldn’t have believed of such plot would’ve existed, and therefore he isn’t liable for Article 7 Section 2 of the Wizard Penal Code – giving assistance to a fugitive.

‘Furthermore, we have a reason to believe that allegations of former Death Eaters working within this Ministry are true and they have been assisting Jack Chadron with his personal scheme to kill the Headmaster. It was probably a grudge against Dumbledore, but they were foiled, and we’ll expect a full internal investigation soon in this Ministry. We’ll know soon who they are.’”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sighed in disappointment despite the good news. Minister Fudge obviously was still in a state of denial about Voldemort’s return. They had actually seen him, but people would believe anything that was written in the Daily Prophet, and if they insisted publicly they had met the Dark Lord to contest the report, they might probably land in St. Mungo’s. It didn’t help at all to keep everyone from the truth while Voldemort was biding his time scheming his next move. They only had to trust none other than the greatest wizard in the world, Dumbledore, who seemed to be on top of things always, and that had somehow gave them the much-needed confidence they would need to be able to survive these dark times.

“They didn’t write about Lucius Malfoy like I hoped they would,” said Ron, as he glanced towards Draco, who still had his chin up. “Look at Draco, he still thinks he owns the school or something.”

“He’s confident his father could still get away,” said Harry, looking sharply at Draco. “They could pay their way out if they wanted to.”

“Aside from that, we have nothing on Lucius yet, hard to admit,” said Hermione with disappointment. “I shudder to think what he’d do when he does get cleared. Mr. Weasley said he was cursing about Mudbloods when he stormed out the Ministry…”

“He’ll curse everyone, I expect, but if he’d be venting his ire on Muggle-borns, he’s got to go through us to get to you,” said Harry to Hermione, and she smiled back. For Hermione, Harry will always be her hero as he had been for years.

Just then, Goyle spitted something out like mad, and subsequently there was a commotion ensuing at the Slytherin table, which Snape strangely ignored.

Harry and Hermione stared at Ron. “What?” he said, looking innocent and while hiding his snigger, but he failed miserably after holding it up for too long, laughing along with his classmates.

-o0o-

Later the same day, Hermione was sitting down alone on the warm grass at a secluded spot beside the lake to think deeply about her past experiences, especially the connection they had to her secret feelings with Harry. She hadn’t joined either Harry or Ron like she usually did each Saturday, which Harry found very unusual. Harry had turned Hogwarts upside down looking for her, and he finally found her in her spot by the lake where she was lost in thought.

“Hagrid told me I could find you here,” said Harry from behind, panting, which made her jump. Hermione felt a rush of nervous excitement upon seeing him again. What made her even more excited was that Ron wasn’t around at all. She made a quick breathing exercise in the hope to conceal her blush.

“What’s up with you?” asked Harry next.

“Oh, yeah,” she said. “I just needed to be alone for a moment.” She grinned.

“Hmm, am I bothering you? I think I should – “

“No,” she said quickly. “I’m done,” she grinned again. “Really.”

Harry nodded his head curtly, and settled in to crouch down a few feet beside her, throwing pebbles on the water. “Well, you see, I just noticed you were acting strange lately, a little quiet than your usual self,” he said still gazing around the lake. “Then I realized I’ve never really thanked you for saving our lives back there.”

“Oh,” said Hermione quietly.

“So, thank you,” said Harry.

“You’re welcome,” replied Hermione, smiling. It was an awkward moment for both of them, especially for Hermione, and they just stared out towards the lake for a few minutes. She was fumbling for something to say to Harry that at least would steer her off from being too self-conscious at the moment. Thankfully, Harry gave her a clue on what to talk about.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this, but I really refuse to believe you couldn’t transfigure that cup into the proper hat back at the Burrow. It’s just not like you. I mean, you’re the most powerful witch in training at Hogwarts!”

Hermione laughed, feeling flattered. “Thank you about that, Harry, but I hope you didn’t take this the wrong way,” she began, “but it’s something happening that I don’t want to admit. You see, it’s beginning to worry me now.”

“Oh?” said Harry, getting concerned. “But I know you said it was silly.”

“Yeah, I know I did, but I thought I was being was silly at first because I seem kind of paranoid about something that might not be true, but sometimes it happens once in a while…”

Harry gave Hermione an even more worried look. “Hermione, I think you’re beginning to scare me again. I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve had conversations like this.”

“Uh, sorry, but don’t laugh now, you see, when I do the wrong kind of magic, something usually bad happens to me. Nothing actually bad happened to me yet, so I think it’s still going to happen, isn’t it?”

“Again, just when did you start being so superstitious?” said Harry calmly. “I haven’t known you to be this way.”

“I know, and supposedly I’m not,” Hermione said, standing up and she paced around. “But it just came to me – out of the blue – like something’s making me.”

“Maybe you should just relax,” said Harry patiently. “I think all what has happened lately may be getting to us, so I guess we need a little more time to recover.” Harry maintained his gaze at Hermione. “Here’s what I think – I’m positive you’ve already broken what you thought was a bad omen back in the Burrow. You didn’t die in the hands of the dragon. I thought that was it – the bad omen, I mean – but it turned out okay. So you’re clear.”

“It was Norbert, Harry,” she reminded him.

“That’s exactly my point,” said Harry, his eyes widening. “If you were to die that day because of the ‘omen’, it didn’t happen! And you didn’t get to see Voldemort like you were afraid of. See?”

Hermione smiled. Harry’s statement had logic, but she was quite sure he was just trying hard to make her feel better and she was thankful for it, although there was still something nagging inside her thoughts. “Thanks, Harry, I suppose you’re right but…there’s something a want to ask…”

“Yes?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me how…you really felt back there thinking I was dead,” she said slowly, fixing her eyes on the grass. “You said you wanted to die, too, because of it. Why, Harry?”

Harry breathed. The memory was very difficult to relive, but he did his best to answer Hermione’s question in the sincerest way he could possibly do.

“Of course, I thought I was never going to see you again. That would be a very big loss! I thought never again I’ll never see your…” he trailed off and kept quiet. He had surprised even himself. He swore he wanted to say “eyes”!

“Yes?” Hermione said, looking expectant about something. Harry gazed at her; her face had become brighter.

“Nothing – it’s nothing,” said Harry quickly, feeling sweat trickle down his forehead. He stared blankly ahead the lake, wondering where that came from. It was something entirely new for him – that’s what he thought at the moment, at least. Unfortunately they never had the chance to delve further into the subject.

“Hey, I’ve been looking all over for you two!” said Ron suddenly on top of an incline behind Harry and Hermione. Harry and Hermione snapped their head towards his direction. “You’ll never know what happened!” Ron went on. “Neville had a fight with Draco and Goyle, and he guess what – he won!”

“Why? What happened?” said Hermione, her eyes round with surprise.

“Goyle thought Trevor was a chocolate frog –“

Harry and Hermione looked at Ron suspiciously. “Ron, did you…”

“No, I did not!” Ron said severely, knowing what Hermione thought. “You gotta believe me! But that’s not important – the Gryffindors are throwing a hero’s party for him back in the tower. Won’t be fun without you two there – see you there, okay?”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, still, not convinced, and they couldn’t help but doubt Ron again for repeating his Trevor practical joke after getting into big trouble with it. “Ron!” they both groaned, and lazily trudged up to climb the hill towards him. Ron, however, ran off ahead of them and disappeared from their view.

“Oh, there’s something else I’d like to ask you, Hermione,” said Harry, taking his time walking up the small hill. Hermione looked at him, intrigued. “If you’d been eaten by the dragon back there, would you still think of forgiving me?”

Hermione had a good laugh at Harry’s silly question. “If I became a ghost I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life!” she quipped. “I thought we already talked about that – that’s over so forget it. Anyway whatever happens, Harry, you’ll always be my - best friend. Right – my best friend.”

Fighting awkwardness, she kissed Harry’s cheek and gave him a supposedly quick hug. It was hug that betrayed Hermione’s last statement – she didn’t want to let go for a long time.

“Thanks,” Harry said, beaming after they broke apart. “That was – uh – probably the longest hug you’ve ever given me.”

Hermione slightly panicked when she realized. “Oh, I forgot my book, I’ll be with you in a sec,” she said quickly.

Harry took a step ahead of her. Hermione pointed her wand at her book that was on the ground where she came from and muttered, “Accio!”

Nothing happened. “Hmmm, I think my wand actually needs servicing,” she said, shrugging, shaking her wand.

“So, I guess that’s the real problem and not an omen like you’re thinking. Wait, I’ll get your book for you the old fashioned way,” Harry said and he ran towards Hermione’s book to pick it up. He returned a short while later with it, panting a little.

“Tell you what, we’ll go to Olivander’s during the holidays to have it looked at. He’ll know what to do, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Hermione said, waving her wand around. Brilliant blue sparks were left in its wake. She smiled, feeling satisfied.

Harry innocently put an arm around Hermione’s shoulder, and she wrapped her own arm around Harry’s waist. They both walked back towards Hogwarts castle cheerfully, feeling at ease with each other’s touch. They looked forward for the party back in Gryffindor tower with the mutual hope that they would finally have a trouble-free term ahead of them. Or so they thought.

Shadow the Dark Fortress Act 1:

Fugitives of the Ministry

Next Chapter: start of Act 2.