Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: The characters of this fiction are borrowed and used as a tribute to the wonderful world created by J.K. Rowling. They're not mine, never were and never will be. No money is being made on this either.

Summary: Driven by jealousy of Hermione Granger's obvious crush for The Boy Who Lived, Ron Weasley makes the biggest mistake of his life that puts the whole Hogwarts School in peril. As Harry Potter suddenly finds himself trapped in a different world, it is now up to him to set things right.

Author's notes:

I apologize again for the spelling in the three first chapters. Hopefully, from here it shouldn't be a problem anymore. Thank you those who reviewed.

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'Voldemort's here!'

The ghost of Ron Weasley looked panic-stricken. 'B-but… it's impossible! How could he be here? It's been three hundred years, he can't be alive! Right?'
'My scar's never been wrong thus far.' Harry said slowly while rubbing his forehead. 'One of Voldemort's main goals has been to conquer death. I guess he somehow must've achieved it. I wonder more why he's here at Durmstrang of all places right now. The odds are far too great to make this just a coincidence.'
'If it's not a coincidence, then what is it?'
'The school of Durmstrang must be Voldemort's stronghold.' Harry stated.
Ron gulped. 'W-what do we do now? If he finds us here… then he'll… you know…'
'He'll kill me, I'm sure. Don't know though if he can kill a ghost.'
'If anyone can, it'll probably be him.' Ron said nervously. 'Harry, what're we going to do? I never counted on confronting You-Know-Who!'
'We have to stick with the plan, Ron. It's our only chance to set things right. We just have to keep out of Voldemort's sight.'

'I wonder if we can.' Ron said dejectedly. 'If he's in the least like Dumbledore, he'll know everything that goes on in this castle.'
'If he does, then someone should have been here by now to apprehend us, and…' Harry's extra-developed senses then registered something. He strained to listen and then he heard it. Footsteps.
'Someone's coming! We got to hide!' A quick survey of the dark room found them a cupboard in which Harry quickly dashed inside. Ron followed closely by simply floating through the door. Harry just managed to close the cupboard when he heard the room's door open and a voice that mumbled: 'Illuminate.' Harry could see through the slits of the cupboard-door that the room was now filled with light. He opened it slightly ajar to peek outside. A man had walked inside, a man Harry of course didn't know. He was just a typical average normal-looking person around his thirties. But his robes on the other hand were familiar to Harry because the design was forever imprinted in his mind. This man was a Death-Eater.

The Death-Eater caught sight of the mess of spread ashes from the fireplace, but he merely shrugged at it. Instead he sat down at a desk in the middle of the room with his back against the cupboard and began to work with some papers.
Harry's mind worked hard. They couldn't stay in the cupboard forever, they were wasting time. So he knew that they had to neutralize the Death-Eater. The question was how? Taking a big risk, Harry leaned out quietly from the cupboard to survey the rest of the room. He saw a workbench in the corner to his left. It was stacked with different books, some bottles with different potions and a stone bowl with a pestle inside.
Harry got an idea. He stretched out his wand towards the pestle and whispered as lowly as he could: 'Wingardium Leviosa.' The pestle rose from the stone bowl and Harry carefully steered it towards the unsuspecting Death Eater until it hovered just above his head.
Maybe noticing a ripple in the air or seeing a shadow, the Death-Eater suddenly straightened up from his papers and slowly gazed up. His eyes went wide with surprise as he saw the floating pestle above his head. Acting quickly before the man could regain his senses, Harry mumbled to his wand: 'Deleto.' And thereby taking away the incantation his wand emitted. The heavy pestle fell down hard on the Death-Eater's head, knocking him unconscious.

'That was too close for comfort.' Harry said with a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the cupboard.
'Why didn't you just 'stupefy' him?' Ron asked as he floated out after Harry.
'Because that charm usually sends a person halfway across the room upon being hit, and I didn't want to cause any loud noises. I would've knocked the desk over knocking him out.'
'Good point. But what now? This place is probably crawling with who knows how many more Death-Eaters. How can we search this castle after that Time-turner without being spotted?'
Harry looked down on the unconscious man and let out another sigh, although this was a sigh of a heavy decision. He realized what he had to do and he didn't like it one bit.
'To avoid confrontation with your enemy you have to become your enemy.' Harry said heavily.
'Meaning?' Ron asked.
Harry didn't answer. He instead began to strip the Death-Eater of his cloak and put it on himself. He found the Death-Eater mask in one of the pockets, which he put on his face.

'Harry, do warn me if you'd start to feel comfortable in those clothes. Then I'll know it's time to break our friendship.'
'If I start to feel comfortable in these, then you'll have to promise to kill me.'
'Best you keep sane then. The only way for me to kill you is to put myself over you and freeze you to death. Not a very comfortable way to 'move on'.'
'I'll keep that in mind.' Harry said with a smile. He then conjured some ropes from his wand and tied up the Death-Eater in case he'd wake up and thought of sounding an alarm. 'Well, let's go.' He said after having put a gag over the man's mouth and with some difficulties, locked him inside the cupboard.

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Harry had no idea how the school of Durmstrang looked liked, but he doubted that it was suppose to look like what he saw now. The corridors reminded him a lot of the Slytherin common room back at Hogwarts where he and Ron had managed to sneak inside back in their second year. He guessed that Voldemort had changed the decor into his own liking, since he was a descendant from Salazar Slytherin who had this thing for snakes. Round greenish lamps were plucked into the mouths of snake-shaped pillars supporting the rough stoned roof and along the walls between those pillars, there were tapestries showing pictures of different historical events in the world of magic. (Hermione would probably love to examine those a little closer.) But Harry ignored them; acting, as he knew them well enough, as if he'd passed them at least twice a day. It was necessary to do so in order to avoid suspicious glares from other personnel whom he might happen to walk by. He wished he could ignore the throbbing ache in his scar though, it gave no hint of giving up on hurting his head, which only increased the unavoidable fact that Voldemort was indeed somewhere in this castle. That very thought alone made him nervous.

Ron stayed out of sight by floating inside the thick walls. Once or twice a minute he stuck out his head for a quick peek to see if he was still with Harry and to keep on eye out for other people. Strangely enough they didn't meet anyone, even though they both knew the castle were occupied. Ron's probing in the walls was also an efficient way to find some hidden passageways if there happened to be any. The problem was that even though Durmstrang wasn't as big as Hogwarts, it was still big enough to get lost in it, and they didn't have the slightest clue to where they should begin to look for the big hourglass. After walking around for what to them felt like hours, (while in reality they'd only spent about forty minutes), they reached what they assumed was the bottom floor, and they were hearing music. Harry felt that it was crazy to follow the sound and see what it was all about, but he did it all the same, feeling that there might be an answer to why the corridors were so absent of people.

He reached a pair of oak-doors from where behind the music was coming from, which he opened slightly ajar. The first glance told him that this was Durmstrang's Great Hall, occupied by hundreds of people in different ages. All of them were dressed as Death-Eaters. Harry felt sick. Durmstrang had been turned into a school for training dark wizards.
He could tell that the students and staff weren't just eating dinner, there seemed to be some sort of party going on. People were drinking and laughing in a manner where discipline was totally oblivious, some had already passed out by too many pints of beer, or perhaps had been hit by to many spells that drunken people shot around them. On the other side of the room Harry would have expected to see the staff's table, but the back wall was occupied by a single throne that was shaped liked a Basilisk's head. And there was a man sitting in it that made Harry's scar intensify its pain a little more. It was the dark lord himself: Lord Voldemort. He looked a bit worn, had maybe even put on some fat, but there was no mistake by him giving the impression of still being a powerful ruthless wizard.

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The party had gone a bit out of control, like they always do when there was cause for celebration. Still, it was good from one point of view, since many of the students should take the opportunity to master total vigilance even while they were drunk, or they would be no good for the service of the dark lord. It was of course for their own interest to learn this lesson, or they would fail their exams. And if they failed, they would die. The dark lord had no use of Death Eaters who neglected to learn to be a wizard master.

The celebration tonight was because the dark forces had managed to track down another underground group of resistant wizards, one of the bigger command posts, which they had wiped out. As always, Lord Voldemort had been personally leading his forces to battle and challenged the base commander for a wizard duel, where'd he won after some pleasant hours of torturing his victim. But those pleasant hours had gone by and leaving nothing but emptiness in the Dark Lord. He was bored, feeling no excitement for the party, 'cause it failed to give him the satisfaction he usually felt out in the battlefield. And even that failed to give him a full satisfaction these days.

Having achieved to conquer the world about ninety years earlier, Voldemort's life had slowed down. He had found a way to live forever; he had laid the world by his feet and none could resist him anymore. That meant that there was no longer any challenge in life left for him. Living forever now seemed like a curse, since he lived a life with no challenges and for him: that was a life filled with utter boredom.
A teacher from one of the tables rose to his feet and raised his glass.
'Fellow Death-Eater colleagues and students; I'd like to propose a toast to our master Lord Voldemort, for yet another victory brought to us by his hand.'
'To our Lord.' Everyone in the hall said and raised their glasses. Voldemort grumbled.
'To us, this is yet another proof of the mighty power of our Lord.' The first one continued. 'Yet again he has proven that none stands in his way. And yet again he proves to us that no wizard from either the past, the present and the future can ever vanquish our mighty Lord.'
'If ya don't - hic - count the one'sh he never - hic - vanquished himshelf…' someone slurred. The whole Great Hall fell silent and Voldemort narrowed his red eyes.

'Hold your tongue, Clarke!' The Death-Eater teacher shouted. 'How dare you speak about our Lord like that? Have you got no respect?'
'I jusht shaid that - hic - he never vanquished all of - hic - hish enemiesh…' It was a student boy around fifteen who spoke; too young to drink, and he had had way too much already.
'Silence young fool!' the teacher shouted again.
'Would you perhaps care to elaborate your statement a little more, Mr. Clarke?' Lord Voldemort's voice was still high-pitched even when he whispered. It sent a cold shiver along everybody in the Hall and nobody dared to speak another word. Everyone knew that the drunken student had gone too far.
'Tell me, young one.' Voldemort continued. 'Is it someone special on your mind?'
'Well… - hic - what wash hish name? You know, that - hic - guy… Harry - hic - Potter? - hic - Ya never - hic - beaten him…' Another shiver ran around every occupant in the Hall.

Voldemort sat deathly still with his eyes on the drunken student. The boy himself seemed deep down to realize that he'd babbled too much because he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
'T-the boy is drunk, Mylord.' The teacher stammered. 'Otherwise I'm sure he would know his place. I will of course administer discipline to teach him…'
'The discipline is something I will administer myself.' Voldemort raised his wand. 'Crucio!' The student screamed in pain and fell of his chair. The dark Lord released him after twenty long seconds.
'Come forward, Boy! Kneel before me and beg for my forgiveness!' The drunken student stumbled towards the throne trembling all over, both by fear and from the recent pain. He kneeled and whimpered his apology.
'F-for gi - hic - ive me M-Mylord. I-it washn't my intention t-to - hic - anger you… I - I am your humble shervant and - hic - and I will alwaysh…'
'That will do. Don't get up until I tell you to.' The boy stayed on his knees. Voldemort leaned back in his throne.

'Despite your traitorous tone, you do have a point. Harry Potter… it's true… I haven't vanquished him yet. I'm still waiting for the day of his return. Yes… I know that day will come when he finally will somehow be released from the Mirror of Erised. And knowing Potter… he will do anything for his friends. And that will be his big mistake.' Voldemort smiled his terrible smile, more to himself than to the crowd.
'Why is that, Mylord?' the teacher asked carefully.
'Well, you all know about that curse which reside within that mudblood girl at Hogwarts? She's Potter's friend, and he will most likely free her from it whenever he can. And I will know when he does, thanks to the thorn-bushes I'd planted there. It wasn't just to keep unwanted visitors outside Hogwarts that I put them there, they're connected to the spell, and I in turn am slightly connected to the bushes. Once the spell is gone, I will know: Harry Potter has then come back and by then he's mine for the final kill!' Voldemort chuckled at the thought. Then he put his attention back at the drunken student who still kneeled before him.

'Get up, runt. I grow tired of your heap before me.'
'Yesh, Mylord. Thank you Mylord for - hic - you mercifulnesh…' The student rose to his feet and began walking back to his seat.
'Oh, and Clarke. One tip for you…' Clarke stopped and turned back to the Dark Lord.
'Next time around, stay away from alcohol. Avada Kedavra!' A flash of green light and a rushing sound, and the drunken student fell to the floor, dead.
'Let that be a lesson to everybody present here: don't any of you dare to doubt me! Ever!'
Nobody said a word. They hardly even dared to breathe.
'Someone fetch those wretched house-elves and get this trash out of here.'
'At - gulp - once, Mylord.' The teacher said. But Voldemort paid no attention to him. There had been a moment of satisfaction during the disciplinary act, but that moment was now gone. Voldemort could no nothing else but sink back once again into boredom.

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Harry finally managed to tear himself away from the door and quietly closed it. He then slumped against the wall, to make his beating heart calm down. He had had to summon all of his self-control not to scream in agony by the pain in his scar during the two times that Voldemort had used his curses. But most of all he had to recover from the excitement of learning how close he'd got of blowing his cover back at Hogwarts. So that's what his sense of danger warned him about. That's why he couldn't kiss Hermione and awaken her. If he had, Voldemort would've known he was back, and come after him immediately. It was only thanks to the fact that he'd listened to his senses that he could wander around in Durmstrang with Voldemort totally oblivious of that he was here. Harry only hoped that he could keep it that way.

Ron emerged from the wall he'd been hiding in, and Harry could tell by the looks of his ghostly face that he'd heard everything as well and reached the same conclusion.
'Well, Harry… we do have a nasty habit of getting close calls, don't we?'
'That's a habit I'd really like to break. There's been too much of those lately over the years.'
'You're telling me. So what do we do now?'
'Continuing searching for the Time-turner of course. That's what we're here for.'
'Of course. Silly me.'

The duo resumed their search. They searched for two hours and their hope was dropping more and more, 'cause although Ron found some hidden passageways in the walls, there was no sign of anything in the rooms they led to that resembled a giant hourglass as Ron searched them. (Harry couldn't get through the doors without passwords.) With his mode dropped to almost zero, Harry turned down another corridor that he couldn't recall if they've been through or not. Every corridor began to look the same to him with the supporting pillars shaped as snakes. He didn't notice the hideous statue under an arch in the wall to his right, but Ron did.
'Uuuh, gross.' He mumbled disgusted. 'He must be really fond of that mark of his, don't you think Harry?'
Harry glanced back over his shoulder to look what Ron was talking about. It was a statue of the dark mark: a giant skull made of stone with a serpent protruding from its mouth like a tongue. It stood about two meters tall inside the circular space formed inside the wall.

'Of course he's fond of it, he invented it.' Harry said nonchalantly. 'It's his own personal mark that resembles his might. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got another statue like that in his personal chambers.' Harry then resumed his walk… until a thought struck his mind. And he turned back and stood before the statue of the dark mark.
'I wonder…'
'You wonder what?' Ron asked but Harry didn't answer him. Instead he fixed his gaze at the snake that protruded out of the stone mouth. It was well sculpt; in fact it almost looked alive. And it was that image he concentrated on as he began speaking to the statue.
'Open up.' He said in parcel. But the statue didn't budge. 'Not that simple, huh?'
'Harry, what are you doing?'
'One moment, Ron.' Then he spoke parcel again: 'Tom Marvolo Riddle.' There was no reaction. 'No, of course not. He never liked his muggle name.'

'Harry, is there a point with this? You're giving me the creeps when you speak parcel.'
'Patience, Ron.' And Harry tried again. This time with several words: 'Lord Voldemort? Salazar Slytherin? Pure blood? Death to muggles? Avada Kedavra?' But nothing happened.
'Look Harry, I checked behind the wall behind this thing and there is no secret passage there. This is just a statue, you're wasting time with this.'
'Ron I'm sure there's more than meets the eye with this thing.' Ignoring Ron's annoyed scowl Harry went back to his thoughts. He recalled the first time he saw this image. It was just before his fourth year at the Quidditch World Cup, when the invisible voice of Barty Crouch Jr. conjured it right in front of him, Ron and Hermione. He thought of the spell… 'Morsmordre?'
'Really, Harry. Isn't it enough with the stone version of this thing? Do you need the real thing around you as well? No thank you, Harry!'
'Sorry, wrong language.' Harry concentrated again on imagining the stone snake being alive. And then he spoke: 'Morsmordre.'

The empty eye sockets of the stone skull suddenly glowed with green light, as did the eyes of the snake. And then the statue began revolving and at the same time rose up through the ceiling, dragging along stairs that were emerging from the floor. Harry couldn't help but smile. Voldemort must've been inspired from the gargoyle back at Hogwarts that rose exactly the same way leading to the headmaster's room.
To Harry, the look of surprise on Ron's ghost face was priceless.
'How did you figure that out?' Ron asked.
'Quite simple, really. Voldemort's got a great ego. It was only logical that he put his office behind something so personal to him. And using a password no one but he can speak.'
'Or you.' Ron said. He now became very worried as they rode up the moving stairs. 'Harry. This is dangerous. If You-Know-Who gets any idea of somebody being in his office… he's going to know it can only be you.'
'I know.' Harry said with a sigh.
'Should we… really go up here?'
'Ron. It would be typical Voldemort to keep all magical items in his own rooms. I'm quite positive that this is where we'll find the Time-turner.'

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In Durmstrang's Great Hall, the Dark Lord raised a hairless eyebrow as he felt some sort of tremor in his senses. It was if something out of the ordinary was happening in the castle at this very moment. But he couldn't imagine what it could be that would make him react to it.
'Must be my imagination.' He mumbled quietly to himself.

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Lord Voldemort's personal chamber made Harry shiver. It wasn't only from the decoration of the Slytherin green color and the massive collection of magical objects, (stuff that Harry would never know half of what they were for), but because of even though the room was unoccupied, Voldemort's presence resided here. It made Harry's scar burn even more.
Harry had guessed right: there was another statue of the Dark Mark in the chamber, along with a statue of Salazar Slytherin; Voldemort's ancestor, and a statue of Lord Voldemort himself. Some people were just so full of themselves that it was disgusting. There was also something else in there:
'Watch out Harry! Snake!' Ron suddenly cried. A giant snake slithered towards Harry with its venomous fangs bared.
'The smell of a stranger. Intruder!' Harry heard it whisper, as he understood its language. 'Let me bite you. Let me eat you. Let me kill you!'

While others would've been petrified by seeing the viscous attacking snake, Harry reacted quickly. The snake would hardly listen to him if he tried to talk to it; instead he pulled out his wand and directed it at the giant serpent.
'Stupefy!' he shouted. The force-blast from the wand sent the snake flying into the wall where it landed in a shape-less heap and it remained there. Harry let out a sigh of relief. 'I should have expected that.' He muttered.
'It's strange, but at times like this; I'm glad I'm already dead.' Ron said.
'Leaving me to face all the dangers.' Harry half scowled while he removed the despise-ful Death-Eater mask from his face. 'No thanks Ron, I'm gonna make you alive again and we'll face the next danger together on equal terms.'
'If you can.' Ron sighed. 'I can't see anything looking like a Time-turner in here. It looks like this has been for naught. Let's get out of here.'
'Take it easy Ron; we're not done yet. Maybe there's another secret door around here. We'll just have to look around a bit more.'
'If I ever get to be alive again I'm gonna kick myself for this.' Ron muttered.

They quickly began to search around the chamber; careful not to touch any of the magical artifacts that was laying around everywhere. Harry looked behind the three statues while Ron surveyed inside the wall for hidden passages. It wasn't long until he found one.
'Harry, over here. Behind this curtain. There's stairs leading upwards.'
Harry joined Ron and shoved the curtain aside. True enough, there was a circular stairwell leading upwards and Harry climbed it without hesitation. Harry understood now that they were in a tall tower, and Harry's experience with the wizard world told him that towers sometimes housed helpful secrets. (Unless it had something to do with Divination.)

They reached a door on the top of the stairs, which they opened; and they were both struck by what they found inside the room. The Time-turner wasn't just big: it was huge. It was about two meters high and three quarters of a meter wide, but it seemed much higher than that because it was fastened by a pivot to the wall suspended another half a meter above the floor. The room itself was circular and about eight meters wide and three meters high. Harry noticed that there was a roof hatch inside the room's pointy ceiling.
'By gosh, Harry. You were right, it did exist.' Ron said breathlessly looking at the big hourglass. 'This thing probably will be able to take us back three hundred years in time, if you can find the strength to turn it.'
'I just hope this thing still works. It doesn't sparkle like Hermione's did.' Harry's heart sank. It would be disastrous if they'd managed to come all this way just to find that the magical hourglass they'd chased no longer worked. Looking around he saw a small desk beside the door they'd come through. There was a collection of several hourglasses in various sizes standing on it, normal non-magical hourglasses. And two books.

Picking up one of them, he saw a picture of an hourglass on it. Thinking it was a book describing how the big hourglass worked; he opened it. Harry's heart sank again. It was written in a language he didn't understand. It looked liked ancient runes, a subject he didn't attend to in classes. Hermione did, but she wasn't here. 'Why did I take Divination?' he muttered. 'I could have taken up something more important to study that might've helped me here, but no: I had to take Divination!'
'You took it because I took it, Harry.' Ron said.
Harry decided not to answer that; instead he looked at the other book. His heart leaped up again: it looked like a dictionary for ancient runes, written in English.
'Well, thank you very much Voldemort.' He said. Perhaps Tom Riddle hadn't been so keen on reading other languages either.

It took Harry some time to match all of the different symbols in the guidebook. To Ron's credit, he kept quiet and let Harry work in peace. Finally, Harry clapped his hands.
'Got it. This Time-turner is way too big to let it reside a constant charge of active chronological power. That much energy could cause some unpredictable distortions when not in use, therefore you have to charge it with star-energy before being used.'
'What does that mean? 'Star-energy'?' Ron asked.
'It means that we have to activate the chronological power with the rays from the stars in the sky. It says here that we have to let the stars shine on the hourglass for the extent amount of time depending on how far back in time we wish to travel. There's a diagram of readings in here that describes it. If I read this correctly; during daytime we would need around eighteen minutes of normal sunlight to travel three hundred years. But as it is night out there we need about twenty-three and a half minute of a full starlit sky to charge it with the same amount of energy we need.'

'I'm sorry Harry, but all of what you just said goes way beyond my head.'
'Don't worry Ron; I'm sure I understand this completely. Let's open the roof hatch.' Harry climbed a ladder upwards the ceiling three meters up and used a long pole to prop it up, letting the moon and the bright stars shine in. They were lucky that it was a cloud-less night. And as the stars were able to shine on the smooth surface of the giant hourglass, they could see how the sand began to sparkle inside it. Harry went back to the desk, found a small hourglass for a ten-minute time limit and turned it. He stood prepared with a smaller one with a three-minute time limit to take over once the larger was out after a second turn.
'Twenty-three minutes Ron. Then we're out of here.' Harry couldn't cover his own anxiety.
'That's great Harry. You know, I really think now that we'll solve this mess. Actually, luck has been with us all the time during this crisis. It's almost too good to be true.'
'It sure has, that's what worries me. With all that luck we had, it's bound to run out any time now.'
'Don't get paranoid now, Harry. Believe it instead: We're going to make it.'

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In the Great Hall, the staff had finally decided to call an end to the celebration. The students were now all standing up to say their usual prayers to the Dark Lord and once again swearing their loyalty to him. Usually while they gave the oath, Voldemort would stand up to receive it and then dismissing them all, but this evening he was still seated. In fact: he was in such deep thought that everything else was oblivious to him. The teacher who toasted to his honor earlier that evening carefully approached him to see what was disturbing the Dark Lord.
'M-MyLord? You seem to be a little on edge tonight. Is something wrong?'
Voldemort only grumbled.
'If you wish MyLord, I will dismiss the students myself and leave you in peace.'
Voldemort hardly heard him. He was still concentrating on the weird feeling he felt earlier, but now he sensed a connection to it with another feeling he'd been sensing in his subconsciousness during the past few days. He'd tried hard to identify the deeper feeling, because he was certain it was something familiar with it.

Struggling to make it clearer, he stretched out his senses around his stronghold to try to find the source of the sensation he felt before. To his surprise he found a strong source similar to the feeling from his subconsciousness lurking somewhere in the castle. He grasped on to it, felt it… it was very familiar…
'I sense something. Presence I haven't felt since…' he mumbled.
'MyLord? What…?'
Voldemort suddenly sprang up to his feet. As if he was staring into a void, he roared:
'POTTER! HE'S HERE!'

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'AAAH!' It felt as if somebody had burned his forehead with hot iron. Harry reflexively clutched at his scar, but the sudden pain was so intense that he dropped on his knees.
'Harry? What…?' the ghost of Ron gasped.
'H-he knows.' Harry's voice trembled. 'He knows I'm here. He's coming after us.'

Next: Ron's redemption.

Author's notes:

Although I mostly follow the books, I just had to use the stairs to the Headmaster's office from the movie. I just loved that scene.