Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all the books and the characters, and to Ms. Rowlings father, a happy Father's Day.

Chapter 15 Summary: Harry's charm leads the Order to an abandoned hut, but alas, no Hermione. We discover that although she remains physically unharmed as she is moved from place to place, Hermione's torture at the hands of the Death Eaters is one of isolation and mental abuse. Meanwhile, Harry and Ron are angry at the Order and Dumbledore for keeping them from the search and take their frustrations out on all around them. In an attempt to cheer their spirits, Ginny and Luna ask Harry and Ron to the Halloween Ball where Harry's scar once again erupts in pain.

Chapter 16: The Abyss

"Go find Dumbledore! " Ron urged the two girls. "I'll stay here with Harry, now get going!"

The painful look on Harry's face gave them all the incentive they needed and Ginny and Luna quickly disappeared from the cloakroom to find the Headmaster.

"Hang in there, mate. Dumbledore will be here soon," a worried Ron said in an attempt to comfort Harry.

"He's really happy about something, I… I don't know what."

Ron's eyes began to widen, "Y… ya don't think it's Hermione, do you?"

"No… but either way, I don't think it's going to be good for us or the Order, no matter what it is," Harry finished as he weakly tried to sit up against the wall.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Potter?" a stern but worried McGonagall asked as she entered the small room.

Harry looked over at Ginny who added, "Professor Dumbledore isn't here, Harry. We thought it better to get Professor McGonagall than Professor Snape."

"Yes, yes. The headmaster is occupied with business for the Order. Are you able to stand, Potter?" McGonagall queried as she tried to help Harry to his feet.

"Here, I'll help him," said Ron as he draped Harry's arm over his shoulder. "I'll take him back to our room."

"Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey, Mr. Potter?" seeing Harry's shake of his head, she went on, "are you seeing anything I should be made aware of?" Again, Harry shook his head no. "Perhaps then, Mr. Weasley is correct and you should return to your room and lie down. Mr. Weasley, ladies, I leave him in your charge. If there is any change in his condition, please contact me immediately." As she started for the doorway, a very troubled looking McGonagall turned back to them, "And Harry, try and get some rest. We can talk more in the morning if you wish."

The pain had now reduced to a dull throb and Harry looked to his friends, "No, I'll be ok, don't let me spoil your evening. Everyone spent so much time getting preparing for this and you all look so great…"

"Shut up, Harry" Ginny said firmly, taking his other arm. "We'll just have our own quiet party back in Gryffindor tower. Now let's go. Luna, can you get the door?"

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Harry woke to Ron's thunderous snore from across the room. Trying to recall the events of the past evening, he felt a pang of guilt as the cobwebs slowly cleared from his memory.

The evening had been a fiasco. However, the girls really had been good sports about the whole episode. After escorting Harry back to the boy's room, they had talked late into the night about school, the Order, and life. As one would expect, the conversation eventually wove its way to their missing friend, which had the foreseeable effect of casting a dark pallor over the four and bringing an early end to the evening.

Deciding breakfast may help the emptiness he felt Harry took a quick shower, and with a now conscious Ron, headed for the Great Hall.

Midway through their meal, a chorus of owl screech could be heard as the morning post arrived. Harry had continued receiving Hermione's Daily Prophet for her. He found it left him with the sense that she was just unavailable, not really gone, since that was something he just wouldn't accept.

As he dropped the paper onto the table, a familiar word caught his eye and he began to read.

"Bloody hell," announced Ron, "that must have been why old you-know-who was so happy!"

"Yeah, I wonder who else was killed?" asked Harry as he sat staring at the picture of what was left of the Wizards Lair.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, I fear you are correct. Unfortunately, we were unable to arrive in time to catch the Death Eaters who carried out this heinous act. The loss of Mr. Fletcher is a blow to the Order and he will be sorely missed," spoke a sad voice from behind them.

"Professor Dumbledore," choked Harry as he spun around on the bench, "I didn't see you come up."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here to speak with you last night, Harry," said Dumbledore. "But, as you have seen in this mornings paper, I had been called elsewhere."

"It's alright, Professor. I'm sorry I wasn't able to warn you sooner, maybe you would have been able to save Mundungus."

Resting his hand upon Harry's shoulder, the headmaster looked directly into his eyes, "Do not take any burden of fault upon yourself, Harry. Blame for this rests solely upon the shoulders of Lord Voldemort and his followers, no one else."

"Now," the twinkle returning to the Headmaster's deep blue eyes, "I believe you two have a Quidditch game to prepare for. Good luck today, gentlemen."

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"Welcome students, professors, and guests to the first Quidditch match of the year!" began an excited Lee Jordan. Not having taken the entrepreneurial path of Fred and George Weasley after their legendary tiff with Umbridge during fifth year, Lee had returned to complete his seventh year alone. "The luck of the draw has matched Ravenclaw against Gryffindor, and this game looks to be a good one."

The crowd came to life when the introductions were made as each of the teams flew out onto the field and began their warm-ups.

"Let's make it short, alright Harry?" shouted Ron as he rose to his position in front of the goal hoops.

"What? Oh yeah, right, a short one. Ok, Ron," returned a distracted Harry as he flew to his spot, high above the field.

"Madam Hooch steps to the center of the field and addresses the teams for the start of the game," announced Lee to settle the crowd.

"Alright then!" Madam Hooch bellowed to all those floating around her, "I want a clean game! Ready!" and she released the Quaffle.

"And the game begins!" shouted Lee. "Ginny Weasley takes first possession of the Quaffle for Gryffindor. This is Ginny's first year on the Gryffindor team and if she's anything like her brother's Gred and Forge, we can expect great things from the youngest, and most attractive Weasley."

Seeing the stern look he was receiving from McGonagall, Lee opted to continue with his commentary, "Weasley passes to Bell, Bell to Creevey, back to Bell, she takes the shot… blocked by Heavenhorst of Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw moves the Quaffle up the field, Jansen to Winthrope, Winthrope to… whoa, almost taken out by a well-placed bludger by Dean Thomas; Winthrope spirals and passes to Jansen who shoots and… scores. Ten points to Ravenclaw."

"Creevey takes possession and begins his move up the field, passes to Wea… intercepted by Winthrope… he shoots… another ten points to Ravenclaw. The Gryffindor Captain and keeper, Ron Weasley, is not having a good go at it today it seems," and the Slytherins couldn't have agreed more.

Fanning the flames of insult for the two so quickly scored goals, the entire Slytherin tower could be heard chanting the refrains of "Weasley is Our King" to the dejected Ron.

The game continued on at a squalid pace for the Gryffindor team as Ravenclaw dominated them mercilessly for the next hour. It was as if the soul of the team had been taken from them and their motions were only those of mindless drones.

And indeed, their soul was absent, for spiraling slowly above in a large figure eight, Harry hadn't even noticed the countless scores by Ravenclaw. His mind was far away and shrouded in a mist of self-reprisal.

'Another member of the Order, gone. I should have been able to help, not worrying about some bloody dance. Just like I should have been there for you, Hermione. Why did I listen to you? I should have stayed with you and Ron, not gone off to play the hero,' he chastised himself.

'Where are you, Hermione? What have they done with you? Did they kill Mundungus because he was getting too close? I know you're still alive, I can feel it, but I just don't know how to find you. I tried using your DA coin, but you were already gone. What should I do? You're the brains of the group; what would you do? Go to the library I suppose, but looking for what? I…'

Unconsciously, Harry reached out and snatched at the annoying glint that kept buzzing around his head, '… don't even know where to start looking. I feel so useless without you here to help me. They have me locked up here so tight I might as well be in Azkaban! Bloody Dumbledore won't tell me anything! The rest of the Professors are no damned help either.'

The crowd stood in stunned silence as they watched Harry continue on his loops of the field. Fearing something was very wrong, Ron slowly rose along with the rest of the Gryffindor team to the center of the field and waited for Harry. Continually muttering to himself, Harry passed between his teammates as though he was weaving a gauntlet of students on his way to class. On his next pass, Ron slowly came up alongside Harry and while tugging at his cloak asked, "Are you ok? Harry? HARRY!"

"What? Oh, sorry Ron. I… I guess I was a little distracted. I'll try to keep my attention on the game, I promise."

"That's ok, Harry. The game's over," a very sad and a little angry Ron told his best friend.

"What do you mean? Did they catch the snitch?" Harry asked, looking around wildly.

Ron slid his broom over next to Harry's and placed his hand on his shoulder, "Look in your hand, Harry."

Harry stared down at the closed fist of his right hand and slowly opened each finger to reveal the golden ball of the snitch. "How… I don't remember… I…" Looking down at the faces staring up at him from the stands and fearing the answer he already knew, Harry asked, "Who won, Ron?"

"I'm afraid they did, Harry, 280 to 170. Come on Harry, let's head to the showers. I think we've had enough for today."

Looking to each of his exhausted and cheerless teammates, Harry's sense of guilt and self worth tumbled into the dark abyss, as though this had somehow completed the circle of his betrayal; Sirius, Hermione, and now his remaining friends. He struggled to fight the tears as he muttered, "I… I'm so sorry," and slowly turned his broom away from them and floated off towards the castle.

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Tonks eventually found Harry hours later, cloaked in disgust and self-pity, sitting alone in the Owlery. Even the owls, sensing that this human amongst them bore them no greeting, had either left or remained on the far side of the room. Only Hedwig dared venture forward in an attempt to provide some solace.

"Can I sit down, Harry?" asked Tonks as she stepped towards him from the doorway.

Looking up as he scratched the Snowy Owl behind the ear, "Are you sure you want to be anywhere near me? I mean, let's face it, Professor, between my gift of losing everyone I care about and your gift of… ahh… nimbleness, it might not be safe being around me."

"I'll chance it," was her simple response as she gently sat against the stone wall. "We're all worried about you, Harry: the professors, the Weasleys, your friends, all of us. You have to find your way through this Harry…"

"She's not dead! I can feel it, Tonks!" yelled Harry as he leapt to his feet, causing a startled Hedwig to flail her way to one of the rafters.

"I… I want to believe you, but we should have heard something by now. I'm sorry Harry, but we have to prepare ourselves for the worst even as we continue to work for the best," Tonks said with a tear in her eye.

"NO! I won't allow that! She WILL be found, alive and well," Harry blasted as he began to pace the room. "If I weren't imprisoned here, I might be able to do something productive. But no, just be a good little boy there Harry and toddle off while the grown-ups take care of things! Bullocks! Where has that gotten me? Nowhere!"

Seeing the look of despair on Tonk's face, Harry's anger rose. "You're not any closer to finding her than you were the day she was kidnapped, ARE YOU! But then, how would I know. You and Remus wouldn't say dung if you have a mouth full of it and Dumbledore, don't get me started on him…"

"Sit down and ZIP IT, HARRY!" shouted an angry Tonks as she stood, her hair changing from a bubble gum pink to a flaming red. "Enough of this pathetic oh woe is me scene!"

Harry could see that he had stepped over some untold line and Tonks was not about to be deterred, as it was, she was now the one who took up pacing across the room.

"I know you're Hermione's closest friend and The-Boy-Who-Lived, but that doesn't give you the special privileges you so desperately claim to avoid. I'm sorry to break the news to you sport, but you are only sixteen and a student here."

Tonks stopped in the middle of the room and using her fingers to catalog her points, she continued on at Harry. "First off, if this is a ploy by Voldemort to have you come out like some knight in shinning armor after Hermione, doing so would play right into his hands. Second, has it ever occurred to you that putting you into a psychological tailspin might be another motive? Third, how long do you think the Ministry would stand quietly by if any of us, especially Dumbledore, let you go off gallivanting around! About two seconds, that's how long! Do you want another Umbridge here?"

Tonks walked over to Harry and dropped to her knees in front of him, "I know this hurts, Harry. It's tearing us all apart inside, but do you really think Hermione would want you acting like this? Walking around either snapping people's heads off or completely dazed and befuddled? I seriously doubt it. She would want you to pull yourself together and use that head of yours to find - a - way! Your idea of the Locus Distinctus was a good one Harry, why give up now? Sure as Merlin, I doubt she's given up on us."

Taking a deep breath, Tonks reached out and took Harry's hands into hers, "And as for Dumbledore, you would do well to look beyond your anger. Take a good hard look next time at how considerably older our dear Headmaster appears these days. The kidnapping, the constant strain of the Death Eaters, but most of all the rage you project towards him, have all taken their toll on him."

Tonks stood up and walked to the doorway, "Go talk to him, Harry. I think you both miss each other more than either is willing to admit. I'll see you in class and don't forget what I said about using your head. Good night, Harry."