Shadow of the Dark Fortress (Part 1) by 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.




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.