CHAPTER NINETEEN
A/N - As much as I enjoyed writing the end of the previous chapter, I never really envisaged not leaving the emotional payoff until the end. Still, at least they know now…anyway, here comes the beginning of the end so take a deep breath…and review!
"We've found Snape!"
If ever there was a literal cold shower, that was it.
Still, the blunt impact of that statement made Harry forget about the compromising position he and Hermione had both been found in. They both jumped up to their feet, facing Ron.
"What?" Harry said.
Ron nodded impatiently, "He's just been spotted, some old ruins or something…"
They all broke for the portrait hole, tearing down the corridor towards the Transfiguration classroom; Ron was a couple of steps ahead, and directed his two best friends.
"Where?" Hermione asked.
"Here, in Scotland, about eighty miles away near the coast."
"That makes no sense," Hermione replied quickly.
"Sure it does," Harry said, "put it near Hogwarts, last place anyone would look."
As they bolted round the corner, Ron had cottoned onto another train of thought, "I don't get how it happened, though. All of a sudden out of nowhere, Aurors just get a lead on him like that!" He exclaimed, snapping his fingers.
Harry paused a couple of seconds to think, "They couldn't, not with Snape. This isn't just blind luck…"
"What are you saying?" Hermione asked pointedly.
Harry stopped in his tracks in realisation; the others did the same.
Harry turned to Ron, "He wants to be found! He wants me to know where he is…"
"But why?" Hermione asked after a couple of seconds; the question that neither she nor Ron wanted to ask, but ultimately had to.
Harry rubbed at his forehead; in doing so, he didn't register his scar beginning to tingle…
"I don't know…" Harry said.
"Is it even possible Snape made a mistake?" Ron asked, looking at Hermione.
Ron's words became distant and blurred to Harry, as he noticed his scar begin to throb with pain.
"I don't think so," She replied, "I mean, a wizard as skilled and intelligent as Snape?"
Neither of them noticed Harry beginning to tremble, as the pain from his scar became excruciating…
"But we know he's evil!" Ron said vehemently, "He killed Professor Dumbledore! So if he's done this on purpose, what the hell…"
"Harry?" Hermione said sharply as she noticed the pained look on Harry's face.
He had shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth, reaching out to the wall for balance.
"What's wrong?" She implored, putting a hand to his arm.
"My…scar…" Harry managed to get out through gritted teeth.
Hermione turned to Ron quickly, "Ron, go get some…"
"AARRRGGHHH!" Harry screamed in pain, collapsing to the ground, writhing around clutching his forehead. Hermione got down on her knees, desperate to do something to help. Ron, no matter how urgent the need for aid was, couldn't move; he had frozen up in horror.
Through the searing agony, and the screams that must have been his own, Harry's subconscious told him that this was not Voldemort's handiwork…
"Potter…"
SNAPE! Harry's mind screamed. That was his voice inside his head!
The pain seemed to level off; it was still real and it was still intense, but had become barely manageable. Harry found himself able to relax somewhat, lying still in a curled-up position upon the floor.
"I know you can hear me…" said that same silky, all-too familiar voice…
"I am alone, but will not be for long."
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! Harry tried to call out with his mind…would it work?
"I have that which you seek, Potter. You will find me at the highest level of the castle ruins, in the furthest room to the right."
WHAT?
"Quickly!"
WHY SHOULD I BELIEVE YOU?!
"The fate of the magical world as you know it depends on you, Potter!"
He can hear me…
"Come before they find me…and bring the other one."
As suddenly as it had begun, the pain from Harry's scar dissipated and vanished. Carefully, he sat up on the stone floor, as Ron and Hermione looked on in total bewilderment.
Harry coughed as he rearranged his glasses, "I'm okay."
"What was that?" Hermione asked, kneeling over him with a look of real concern.
"It was Snape," Harry said matter-of-factly, "he sent me a message."
"How?" Hermione again demanded to know.
"How do you think?"
For once, Ron got it first, "Legilimency?"
"Right," Harry said, "of course he'd know how hopeless I am with Occlumency."
Harry could tell Hermione was biting her own tongue, to keep from once again chastising him for failing to have mastered the discipline. He turned back to her, "He's waiting for me there."
"Where?"
"The ruins of…whatever castle that is."
"We're going too, mate." Ron said simply.
Harry knew better than to argue with him, in the little time he had. What else was there…?
"He told me to bring `the other one'."
"The other what?" Hermione replied.
"I don't know," Harry said, putting his hands on his hips to think. What the hell would Harry have that Snape would want? Especially if Snape was evil, why were they even considering going?
"You think this is a trap?" Harry asked Ron.
Ron shrugged, "From…any other Death Eater, it might be. But Snape?"
Hermione nodded in agreement, "He's right; that would be far too simple for him."
"I guess I should find that reassuring," Harry said, again stopping to will his brain to work.
"What do we have?" Hermione asked.
"And what does Snape think we want?" Ron added.
The only thing we do want are…the last two Horcruxes.
No…no way…
"He's got a Horcrux," Harry said with a worrying degree of certainty, "…he's found one of the last two."
"Are you mad?!" Ron asked frenziedly.
Harry shrugged, "Probably."
"Why the hell would he help us? After what he did!"
Harry shook his head, "I know, but it's the only thing that makes sense. It's the only thing he knows I could want."
"But how?" Hermione asked, "How on earth could he even know about the Horcruxes?"
Harry had an answer, but he didn't want to lend it his voice…
The Horcruxes…the diary, the locket, the wand, the ring…what does that leave?
Harry tried to remember what it was Hermione had said, weeks ago…
That theory she had…the four relics of saints…
The spear, the pentacle, the chalice, the…
Oh my God…
"Ron," Harry said quickly, "get to the Headmaster's office. I need the Sorting Hat."
"What do you need with…"
"Quick!"
"Alright, I'm going!" Ron shouted back as he set off running down the other end of the corridor, ducking out of sight at the nearest T-junction.
"Come on," Harry said, picking up speed again as they headed for the Transfiguration classroom.
"I was right, wasn't I?" Hermione probed knowingly, shaking her head, "Honestly, we had it all along…"
* * * * *
Harry and Hermione burst into the Transfiguration classroom, finding Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Grissom as well as Hagrid, Filch and Kingsley Shacklebolt. They debriefed Harry together, although by this point he knew everything they did, and more. Professor McGonagall especially was shocked to discover that Snape had contacted Harry.
"I think there's definitely more going on with Snape than we know," Harry explained to her and everyone else after they had taken everything in, "As much as I hate to say it, I have to go there and find out."
"Potter," Professor McGonagall said in a warning tone, "Professor Snape was able to pull the wool over all of our eyes. If Voldemort is the most dangerous Dark wizard alive…"
"Then Snape's a close second, I know," Harry said, "but he's got something I need."
"Allegedly," Kingsley chimed in.
"Well, I wish I could say I knew where the other Horcrux is, but I haven't got a clue," Harry admitted.
"All the same," Kingsley replied gravely, "I can't underscore enough how much danger you're putting yourself into by doing this."
Harry fought the urge to smile ironically, "Yeah, I'm getting used to that."
As if anyone needed to tell him that he was placing himself in danger. Harry sometimes felt that he was in danger just by getting out of bed in the morning…
He turned to face Professor McGonagall, "Professor, you're still my head of house. Tell me not to go and I won't…but this is the last chance any of us are going to have to get the truth out of him."
McGonagall eyed him carefully from behind her glasses. The respect was evident from her student, but still, the enormity of what he was proposing…
Hermione watched on saying nothing, her eyes fixed on Harry. Suddenly, it seemed, he had become the leader that everyone needed him to be. Especially me…
Professor Grissom had stood off to one side the entire time, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Harry guessed he was still settling in. Next to him, Hagrid wore a grim expression that told Harry he had nothing to add that hadn't already been said.
Reluctantly McGonagall nodded, "Very well, Potter…but be careful."
The professor turned her head towards Grissom, "Is it ready, Carlos?"
Grissom stepped forward, producing a small, bank card-sized stone tablet from his jacket, "Yeah, all set." He placed it down on McGonagall's desk. That was the first time Harry had heard him speak; he spoke with a deep, gravelly American accent.
He looked at Harry, "This Portkey will put you as close to the ruins as we can get; any closer and we'd risk detection or exposure to counter-magic."
Harry nodded, "Right."
Everyone turned as the classroom door banged open; Ron ran in, out of breath, clutching the Sorting Hat. He approached Harry, "Got it, mate."
"Mr. Weasley, what are you doing with the…" Professor McGonagall started.
"It's a long story, Professor," Harry said, taking the worn, wrinkled old hat and tossing it to Hermione, "Shrink this down for me."
As she took her wand out of her jeans pocket, Harry turned to face Professor McGonagall, "Professor, if this works…"
"I understand, Potter," McGonagall said, "I assure you, I know what to do."
That was a conversation best left unsaid. If Harry's instincts were right, and they had an annoying habit of being right, then Voldemort would somehow be aware of the destruction of his Horcruxes, and would surely be provoked into making his final move against Harry, and the wider magical world. And Harry was sure he would start with Hogwarts…
Harry's eyes found Hagrid, "Hagrid, I don't know…"
"Save it, `Arry," Hagrid said stoically, "I ain't goin' anywhere."
"Harry," Kingsley said, drawing his attention to him, "we'll try and secure the Ministry, but if Voldemort makes it a target, I'm really not sure what we can expect from him."
Harry nodded, "I understand."
Hermione handed him back the Sorting Hat, seemingly trying to avoid making eye contact with him. Now about half of the size of his palm, Harry easily stuffed it into his pocket.
Pretending to readjust his jeans, Harry took a couple of steps towards her, and whispered quietly enough to avoid being overheard, "Hermione?"
Her eyes found his briefly, then quickly flitted away, "Hmm?"
"I'm…" Harry struggled to find the words, even to whisper, "I'm sorry we've got to…you know, leave things like…"
"It's okay," Hermione whispered back quickly, her cheeks reddening.
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Hey, can we go now?" Ron called from across the classroom.
At this point, Luna strolled into the room, "Hello," she said pleasantly.
Everyone in the room stared at her.
Ron quickly moved over to her, "Luna, what are you doing here?"
"I heard about your discovery."
"What? How?"
"I was hunting for Nargles, it's a long story."
"Okay."
"Anyway," Luna said breezily, "I just wanted to come say good luck."
Ron grinned, "Oh, right. Well…cheers."
With no warning Luna flung herself at Ron, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him senseless. Everyone in the room was still staring; Hermione was blushing even more.
Ten seconds passed before Luna let go of him, smiling widely, "See ya later." She turned and walked away with a bounce in her step.
"Now I was led to believe this room was secured," Professor McGonagall said meaningfully, glancing at Mr. Filch, who had been moving some magical cupboards along the side wall and muttering complaints throughout.
"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly as he joined Harry and Hermione in front of her at the professor's desk.
The mood in the room instantly became focussed and serious, the tension growing thick and palpable as the significance of the moment was realised in turn by everyone.
McGonagall looked at each of the trio in turn gravely, "Simple words cannot convey the meaning of what is at stake. You three are the best hope that we have for preventing Voldemort's return to power."
The trio exchanged meaningful looks as McGonagall continued, "I have faith in each of you. Remain true to yourselves, and each other, and you can overcome any obstacle in front of you."
Her eyes settled on Harry's last, "Good luck."
Harry met her gaze with a calm determination, and glanced at Ron and Hermione, nodding. Carefully, each of them touched a finger to the Portkey, as Professor Grissom withdrew his wand and aimed, "Five…four…three…two…one…"
Let's finish this.
In an instant, Harry felt himself being lifted and pitched into the horizon, leaving Hogwarts far behind.
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