Chapter 32: Return to House of Death and Evil
Harry felt as though he'd walked through a shower of ice as he followed Fred and George through the mysterious wall. The only thing he'd ever felt before that even remotely resembled the sensation was when he passed through a wall of flame on the way to finding the Philosophers' Stone six years ago. And Hermione had just left him on that occasion too…
The feeling of ice sped away from Harry's body as he passed through the wall and he found himself staring at a familiar sight. They were in the Gryffindor Common Room. So, Harry thought, this was how Ginny had gotten here so quickly when she went through the wall all those months ago; she'd come directly here. It all made sense, not that it was much consolation now.
'Where is he?' said Fred angrily.
Harry hadn't even thought to look but, now that he did, he registered that the common room was deserted, meaning Ron wasn't in sight. And, Harry thought, he wasn't surprised. For although he knew it was the common room it couldn't have looked much different. The handsome tapestries that hung from all walls were singed in the places that they hadn't shrivelled up due to being set alight. The ones most intact had gaping holes and rips of all descriptions all through them.
Aside from the hangings, the chairs were overturned, the table at which Harry, Ron and Hermione had done so much late night homework was smashed and broken in one corner, the surround to the fireplace was cracked and crumbling and the window had been smashed in allowing for strong breeze to pour into the room.
'What happened here?' said Harry, the first emotion coming to his heart since Hermione had disappeared through the wall.
'Those damned Slytherin bar stewards,' said George through gritted teeth. 'We heard that as soon as the first fighting broke out in Hogsmeade they mobilised and came straight here.'
'The poor Fat Lady,' said Fred, still angrily, 'They massacred her portrait and no-one has been able to find her.'
'Not that anyone's looked,' added George.
'How did this all start?' asked Harry, 'What changed from me getting attacked by Luna to waking up today?'
'That's where it began,' said Fred sitting down on the couch, the only thing seemingly untouched by the fight. 'Luna vanished after she attacked you. Her Imperious Curse on Ginny wore off and she told Dumbledore and the Order about what had happened.'
'Obviously Dumbledore knew that You-Know-Who must have been planning a strike and it failed,' said George taking over, 'he got everyone together up here, the Aurors, the Order, anyone who wanted to help-'
'-but it wasn't a great idea-'
'Cos he got wind of it-'
'-thought that Dumbledore was cooking up an assault plan-'
'-so launched one of his own.'
'At Hogwarts?' asked Harry. 'That seems a bit weird.'
'Well, it would be,' said Fred, 'that's why he attacked Hogsmeade.'
'Hogsmeade?' said Harry, 'What's the use in that?'
'I thought you were supposed to be bright, Harry?' said George.
'Must be more like us than we thought,' added Fred thoughtfully.
'We always thought you were the brother we should have had,' said George.
'Are you sure you weren't adopted-'
'We'll have to ask mum-'
'ANYWAY,' said Harry loudly, 'tell me why he attacked Hogsmeade. I don't understand.'
'Oh, yeah, right,' said Fred. 'See, Harry, Hogsmeade is the only all-wizard village in Britain. It makes sense to attack there because its packed full of magical people.'
'And not just the residents,' said George, 'Hogsmeade gets loads of visitors and not just from Britain. It hosts international functions and gatherings and all sorts.'
'So old Voldie had plenty of potential recruits-'
'-or victims-'
'Quite right, George, or victims for the Imperious Curse or blackmail or whatever. Its harder to root out wizards in a mixed community-'
'-but up in Hogsmeade he could pick and choose because they're all magic.'
'And its close to Hogwarts and Dumbledore-'
'The one person You-Know-Who would need to eliminate to have a clear run at power.'
'Well, not the only person, eh Harry?' said Fred, a wry smile creeping across his face.
'Yeah, he still has to get to you, Harry. His great nemesis,' added George.
'We should get you a nickname-'
'And a costume-'
'And a cape, you have to have a cape-'
'And a mask?-'
'Made of rubber, maybe?'
'Fred! George! Please,' said Harry feeling exasperated, 'I'm not a super hero.'
'You'll always be our hero,' said Fred lovingly.
'Shut up,' said Harry, trying hard to suppress a grin.
'At least you can still smile,' said George. 'We haven't done much smiling for weeks.'
'Anyway, enough gassing. Where is that dopey brother of ours?' said Fred.
They started to look around, thinking maybe Ron had gone into hiding amongst the debris. They overturned tables and chairs, kicked aside fallen objects and piles of mess but Ron was not hiding under any of them. They checked all the dormitories but he wasn't there either.
'I wonder if we can get up the girls' stairs now?' said Fred mischievously before trying to run up the stairs.
'Clearly not,' said George as Fred slid back down to the floor.
'You'd have thought the castle would relax the rules considering we are at war-'
'-and could use a little distraction-'
'-but obviously not. Doesn't miss a trick does it?'
'He must have left the common room,' said Harry, 'wonder what happened to the others. Weren't they supposed to be heading in this direction.'
'They went off in another direction when fighting erupted over by the Transfiguration classrooms. Dumbledore sent us to find you,' said George.
'But we had to duel with those two outside the classroom,' added Fred.
'Where's the safest place to start looking for Ron?' said Harry.
'Dunno,' said Fred scratching his chin, 'Switzerland, maybe?'
'Be serious,' said Harry sternly, 'we have to find him. He might know where that other wall leads and I have to find Hermione.'
'Ok, ok,' said George thinking, 'Nowhere is safe really. But the area around the library, the entrance hall and the North Tower are all changing hands all the time. He would likely go to one of them.'
'Don't we have any parts of the castle?' said Harry desperately.
'Well, we have the Forest,' said Fred, 'And Trelawney's Divination room-'
'-and the East wing by the Charms rooms, buts that's it.'
'Right,' said Harry, 'we'll start at the library.'
'Ok, lead the way.'
'Maybe he's feeling remorse and wants to go the library to pacify his guilt.'
'Yeah, it was Hermione's home from home after all-'
'-and he wants to cherish her memory-'
'She isn't dead yet!' said Harry passionately.
'Yeah…yeah, of course. Sorry, Harry.
They didn't speak much more as they trotted along the corridor. Only the echo of their footsteps broke the droning silence, the distant sounds of battle barely penetrating the air as they drifted across the castle. The end of the corridor was reached without incident and Harry turned the corner. He stepped and felt his foot hit nothing but air. Slowly, he lost his balance and began to fall. Two pairs of hands grabbed him powerfully and pulled him back.
'Wanna be careful there, Harry,' grinned Fred.
'Its always a good idea to check the floor before you turn a blind corner,' added George.'
'Cant be sure it hasn't be blasted away.'
Harry looked down and sure enough there was a huge hole in the floor beneath his feet that led to the corridor below. Harry could have fitted through quite comfortably if he had been laying down, such was the width of the gap, but there was a small ledge of the floor remaining on one side. They decided to cross one by one, edging slowly across the mini-ravine as rubble crumbled away beneath their feet and crackled as it showered down onto the floor below.
From this point on Harry was painfully cautious of all hidden dangers. The shadows he feared so much did indeed hide many threatening surprises. Holes in the floor, falling shards of stone from damaged ceilings, damaged walls whose chipped stone was jagged enough to rip away flesh from the bones of unsuspecting young wizards who walked against them. But none of this, not one thing, compared to what they met outside Dumbledore's office.
They'd taken a wrong turn somewhere, hardly surprising as Hogwarts was difficult enough to negotiate during the day let alone in the dark of night with fear and apprehension crawling through your skin. Whatever the reason Harry, Fred and George took one turn and found themselves facing the stone gargoyle that guarded the Headmasters office. The only problem was that the statue was prostrate and broken in half at the end of the corridor leading up to the office. This wasn't a good sign.
Thinking that maybe the Headmaster had gone back to his office Harry led Fred and George slowly through the debris-laden hallway towards the smashed staircase which led to Dumbledore's private chambers. Harry should have known that it was too quiet and too easy to be believable. If he had thought this then maybe he would have been prepared for what came next.
A club, a thick rugged club, swung out from a shadowy alcove and smashed into George Weasley's face. He flew back along the corridor, blood streaming from a large gash and his nose becoming one of Ron's pet hates; it was now most definitely off centre. Fred, much to Harry's surprise, didn't run to his brother's aid, instead pushing Harry to safety and drawing his wand. Harry whipped his own out as quick as a flash and surveyed the situation. His Adams apple suddenly felt like a small rock in his tensed throat.
For astride the corridor were four goblins. And these weren't the half-nice, respectable goblins that Harry had seen working at Gringotts bank. They weren't even the slightly more mean looking goblins that had harassed Ludo Bagman for the money he owed them after the Quidditch World Cup. No, these were the kind of goblins that lived in dark fairy books, the kind that ate children and haunted the dreams of those they didn't.
They were short and stocky, shoulders wider than a small car and forearms the size of really large hams. Their skin was scaly and greasy and a sort of slime hung from the corners of their mouths and gave off the stale smell of rotten eggs. Each carried the same chunky club and had pointed teeth inside oversized snouts. They looked like the kind of people who'd steal your lunch money from you.
Harry wasn't sure what spells would work on goblins, it wasn't the sort of thing he'd given much thought to. Fred didn't seem to care very much and began firing spells at them. Harry tried the Stunning spell, causing one goblin to wobble, but it just made him more angry. He stormed at Harry, smashing away with his club at the statue Harry had hidden behind.
'Fred!' bellowed Harry over the howls of the goblins, 'we need to combine our spells! Fire a stunner at this one attacking me first and we'll see if it works.'
'Ok,' Fred called back as he fired a conjunctivitis curse at one goblin, who began to shriek in pain and rubbed its eyes forcefully. Fred and Harry both fired simultaneous stunning spells at the goblin attacking Harry. It stopped instantly, tottered uncertainly on its feet before falling to the ground.
'Do each one in turn!' Harry yelled to Fred and together they fired spells at the remaining attackers. They had taken out two and only one remained, but he seemed wise to the situation. As Harry fired his spell the goblin dived for Fred, deflecting his spell with his club and landing on him.
'Harry, think of something fast will you?' called Fred as he dodged crushing blows sent his way by the goblin.
In the distance Harry heard a swooning song, the song of a phoenix. He had a flash of the sorting hat flying his way in chamber under the school. He had an idea.
'Fred, hold off the goblin, I'll be right back,' said Harry.
'Yeah sure,' shouted Fred sarcastically, 'I'll have a coffee with milk and two sugars while you're at it!'
Harry ignored Fred and instead raced towards the staircase leading up to Dumbledore's office. He noticed one of the goblins begin to stir and knew time was short. He sped up the stairs taking several in one bound and reached the top quickly. The door was locked but, amazingly, as he prepared to try the Alohamora charm the door opened of its own accord.
Harry tore inside and looked frantically around the beautiful office. All the portraits were empty but the office itself looked unharmed. Harry look frantically around; he could see all kinds of spindly instruments and useless trinkets but not what he wanted.
'Oh…where is it!' Harry yelled, his frustration getting out of hand.
As if by command, a door to a large cupboard opened at the end of the room. Harry shot across to it, yanked it open and punched the air in delight. He had found what he was looking for.
Harry leapt back down the stairs, his prize in his hand and was soon back in the battle. Fred was barely alive, the goblin had beaten him to the ground and his face was blooming two black eyes and gushing blood from several deep wounds. Harry raced to it and plunged the object in his hands through the back of the goblin. It cried out, it wailed, it wobbled on its feet before Harry pushed it to one side and it fell to the floor, stone dead.
'What's that!' said Fred, his impressed tone evident through his broken jaw.
'The sword of Godric Gryffindor,' said Harry proudly.
'Behind you, Harry' came a yell from down the corridor.
Harry swung around as Fred saluted his brother George's return to consciousness. Harry luckily ducked under the flailing club of the goblin and in one swift movement, that surprised even himself, he withdrew the gleaming silver sword from the dead goblin and thrust it into the neck of the one attacking him. It too fell to the ground.
'Best take care of the other two,' said George motioning at the two remaining goblins who were starting to stir.
'Can I do one?' asked Fred. Harry handed over the sword and Fred decapitated one goblin more than was necessary. George followed suit to the remaining one.
'That was fun,' said George handing back the sword to Harry, who tucked it into his belt next to his leg.
'Which is the best way to the library?' asked Harry.
'This way,' said Fred and they took off down another corridor.
They walked down several corridors and short flights of stairs before the library came into view. There were several figures silhouetted against light streaming in from the windows opposite. There were four in all, again Harry found himself outnumbered.
'I don't want a one-on-one,' moaned Harry.
'Us neither,' chimed Fred and George together.
'Stunners on three?' asked Harry, Fred and George nodded.
Harry counted to three and both he and the twins fired stunning spell after stunning spell at the figures outside the door. All went down. Harry led the was up to the fallen figures.
'I knew it,' said Harry triumphantly, 'Crabbe, Goyle and that weasel Zabini.'
'Don't know this guy,' said George kicked a Slytherin Harry didn't recognise.
'We cant leave them here,' said Fred, 'What if they wake up and go for help?'
'I've got an idea,' said Harry. 'Pull them against this wall.'
Together they lugged the four Slytherins into the wall opposite the library and stepped back. Harry pointed his wand at them.
'Serpensortia!' he cried. Instantly, a long, powerful cobra flew out of the end of his wand and landed near the Slytherins. Fred and George jumped back.
'Harry!' hissed Fred, 'What are you doing?'
'Trust me,' said Harry before turning to the snake, 'Guard them. Do not let them escape.'
The snake hissed back.
'Oh yeah!' cried George, 'You speak Parseltongue! What did you say to it?'
'Told it to guard them. C'mon, lets get inside.'
Harry pushed open the door to the library and stepped inside. It was a mess; it was dark inside but what Harry could make out in the moonlight was that the place had been decimated. Books and shelves alike lay askew and destroyed with piles of both all over the place. The tables used for work had been broken in bits and the chairs were nowhere to be seen.
Harry walked among the rows of collapsed book shelves, unable to stop the flow of fond memories of times spent here. At the time the place had been a millstone to Harry as he looked up things for his homework, or searched for Nicholas Flamel or tried to find ways to survive in the Triwizard Tournament. Now all that seemed gone, belonging to a past Harry was finding harder and harder to remember. Then the door opened.
Harry shot round and somewhere in the gloom the skidding sound of two pairs of feet told him Fred and George had done the same. Harry stopped, his wand shaking in his hand. Was it a friend or a foe? Harry felt his heart beat fast; with the goblins he hadn't had much time to think but now that he did it scared him to bits. Then…
clunk clunk
It was Moody's wooden leg. Harry raced to the doorway and sure enough there was Moody along with Snape and Dumbledore and…
'Ron!' called the twins together.
'I believe you're looking for this,' said Dumbledore genially.
'Yeah, well done for finding the little traitor,' said Fred angrily.
'Now, now, Mr Weasley,' said Dumbledore seriously, 'Your brother wasn't acting of his own free will. He feels bad enough without you three hating him for it.'
'What about Hermione?' said Harry loudly. 'Where could she be?'
'I don't know that,' said Dumbledore, 'And neither does young Mr Weasley here.'
'Then that's it?' said Harry, anger rising in his chest, 'we just let her go?'
'No, of course not,' said Dumbledore and, for the first time Harry could remember, the Headmaster had responded to Harry's angry tone with one of his own. Harry found it scary.
'Th-then what do we do?' Harry stuttered.
'I'm afraid it is something only you can do, Harry,' said Dumbledore sorrowfully. Harry saw Ron's eyes widen with yet more guilt and anxiety.
'What do I have to do?' said Harry, not caring much about what the task would entail.
'You have to use a portkey, Harry.'
'A Portkey? You have a portkey to where she is?' Harry cried.
'Not yet,' said Dumbledore vaguely.
'I don't understand,' said Harry.
'You see,' continued Dumbledore, 'Portkey's are usually created to link places that are a great distance away. But, it is possible, though tricky, to create a portkey that takes you to someone rather than somewhere. It needs a strong emotional link, one that not even a good friend, such as Mr Weasley, could create. Take this kettle, Harry.'
Harry look a battered old kettle from Dumbledore, whose hand was trembling ever so slightly.
'When you are ready, concentrate on Miss Granger. You have to summon all your emotion, all your love for her, all the anger for those trying to hurt her. Focus it, then channel it through your wand and at the kettle. If it works the portkey should transport you to her location.'
'Shall I do it now?'
'If you are ready.'
Harry felt ready. Ron, surprisingly, placed a hand on the kettle.
'What are you doing?' asked Harry sharply.
'I'm coming with you,' said Ron.
'No you're not,' spat Harry.
'I've betrayed you and Hermione, I just want to help-'
'No,' said Harry firmly, 'you've done enough damage already. Let go of the kettle.'
'I'm sorry, Harry,' mumbled Ron stupidly, 'I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm sorry, I hope you can forgive me.'
'Look,' snapped Harry, 'If I can get to Hermione and save her from Voldemort, cos I'm sure he has her…oh don't wince and don't look so surprised! Grow up, Ron! If I can save her then she can decide if we're going to forgive you. If I cant and she dies, I guarantee I'll make sure you follow her wherever she has gone.'
Ron goggled at Harry, who noticed Fred and George do the same. Harry ignored them and followed Dumbledore's advice. He concentrated, hard and long, focused his energy as much as he could, then pointed his wand at the kettle.
'PORTUS!' he cried.
The kettle glowed blue for a second then Harry felt the tug behind his navel, the rush of wind and colour as he was pulled forward, the Weasley's red hair blurring into the background.
Harry hit hard on the floor. He stood up and leapt behind nearby tree for cover. Wherever he was, Hermione was not in sight. Harry was in a grove of some sort, though it could be a garden. It was night time, only the lights of a village flickered down a sloping hill a short way away. Harry looked up the hill and saw a house. It was a grand old manor, ivy sprawled across one face and the building looked as though it may once have been handsome, but had fallen into disrepair through lack of care.
Harry knew the house but couldn't think from where. A light flickered in an upstairs bedroom as though a fire had been lit there. Harry walked up the winding path to the back door. He was about to place a hand on the door handle when he had the urge to look around. There, shrouded in a gloom created by falling fog Harry could make out a small set of headstones in what looked like a family cemetery. A cemetery…Harry froze. He knew where he was. Two years ago he'd visited this place several times, mostly in dreams but one time as a prisoner. Harry knew where he was.
He'd come back…back to the Riddle House.
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