Chapter Eleven
Friends from the Past
For Harry and Hermione crossing the threshold of the reconstructed cottage in Godrics Hollow was a step backward in time. Harry had no memory of this former home other than the screams of his mother which the Dementors had brought to the surface, but everything was here. Hermione couldn't have said why, but she knew that this night was going to be special and something of a turning point for Harry. For him it would be a time to lay some ghosts to rest, and for her it would a time for understanding and a time to make a few decisions on her future. She watched the emotions fly across Harry's face as they explored the house, when she saw his eyes mist; she could not help but respond, she was so closely bonded to this young man that his feelings became hers and the imagined memories hurt just as much. Only two days ago they had sat under the tree and endured the pain that the two gravestones had caused, now the pain was not that of death, but of the simple evidence of living.
The repairing spell had rebuilt the house to the moment before the destruction had begun, so that all the signs of a normal evening in the Potter household were back in place. A kitchen table set for two with a meal that was never eaten, the discarded edition of the Daily Prophet dated sixteen years ago, that had been hastily thrown aside when Voldemort had shown himself. These images were bad enough but it was upstairs in his old room that the normality of it all eventually became too much for Harry. The dimly lit room with its bright colours and the empty cot rekindled a deeply hidden memory that exploded into Harry's brain; a memory that he didn't even know he possessed came to him as if it had happened yesterday or maybe only minutes ago, it was clear and overwhelming, and brought an anguished cry from Harry's throat.
"Nooo!" his breath caught in his throat and he crumpled into Hermione's arms.
Hermione helped Harry back down the stairs and made him comfortable on the sofa in the lounge, it was getting very late and she was quite tired, but the young witch knew that the house in this state would cause Harry too much heartache, so she set about her task with a will. The changes were not profound, a little packing away here, a little cleaning there, a slight rearrangement of the furniture in one room, and a freshening up elsewhere. A few spells and flicks of the wand and the house lost the urgency of those last few moments and became once more the family home it was always intended to be.
Satisfied with the results of her work, Hermione joined a now sleeping Harry on the sofa, curling herself up she rested her head on his lap, sighed once, and fell asleep.
Harry slowly opened his eyes, still half asleep he felt the weight of Hermione's head on his legs, and putting out a hand began to stroke her soft wavy hair, that was so unlike the bushy mass it had once been. The girl mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep and shifted slightly so that Harry's caressing hand brushed lightly against the soft skin of her cheek, and he looked down at her. Her features were relaxed in slumber, there were no cares or worries to furrow her brow, to him she was the most beautiful girl in the world and he realised just how lucky he was. A feeling of utter contentment washed over him and he smiled at his fortune, and then just as sleep reached out to claim him once more a movement at the corner of his vision brought him back to wakefulness. Harry turned his head to get a better look, but all he could see was a vague misty shape moving lazily as if it was a cloud wafted by a gentle breeze until it reached the centre of the room where it stopped and began to take on a more recognisable appearance.
Coalescing into what was a wavering human form, the mist slowly settled so that the figure was standing to one side of the small fireplace. Where its face would have been was a swirling misty nothingness, and then as it reached out a ghostly arm to touch the mantle in an attempt to steady itself the swirling stopped and the face became clear. Harry watched in astonishment as features so well known to him but not remembered from life, appeared before him and he looked, not for the first time, on the ghost of his father.
Now, unlike the time in the graveyard, the form was more substantial and appeared not to be in a hurry, afraid it would vanish before it completed its task. It stood and looked enquiringly at Harry, now very much awake, with the sleeping form of Hermione draped over his legs pinning him to the sofa. The frown, if there really was a frown, faded from the ghostly face and was replaced with what most definitely a smile.
"Hello Harry," James Potter's unmistakeable voice floated out of the ether, it sounded a little hollow, but it was most definitely Harry's dad. "Looks like you've made a good job of fixing up the old place."
Harry nodded, a little lost for words other than err… what, and who, which would have made him feel rather stupid, had he uttered them.
"Nicely decorated as well," James said indicating the sleeping witch in Harry's lap, "I'm impressed."
"Oh this is Hermione," said Harry shakily, finally getting control of his brain and his vocal chords, "she helped." Then as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair again, he glanced down at the girl, "I couldn't have done it without her," he corrected himself, "and perhaps without her with me I wouldn't have wanted to try."
"It's good to have friends to rely on Harry, don't try to do everything on your own," said the ghostly James.
Harry smiled at his father, "Hermione is much more than a friend," he said almost without thinking, then blushed slightly as he realised what he had said.
"In love Harry?" James hid his amusement well.
"Yes." and Harry felt the heat rise in his face at his admission.
"Feel good about it?" his father asked.
"Wonderful." said Harry.
"Good answer," said Hermione, as she sleepily fastened an arm around Harry's neck and
pulled herself up to kiss him. "Who are you talking to?" she asked when she disengaged her mouth from his.
"My Dad," said Harry. Hermione gave him a rather wild look and spun around to face the apparition.
"Oh my," she said, somewhat flustered by her previous actions. "Err… Hi," and her cheeks took on a deep rosy glow, that Harry thought made her look even more appealing.
Almost as if to stave off any further embarrassment a second ghostly form began to appear beside the first, Harry knew who this would be and Hermione, holding him tightly, could feel him begin to tremble. As his mother appeared Harry resisted the impulse to rush up to her and try to hug her, he knew it would be a bitter disappointment to feel his arms pass through her and the coldness that her ghostly form would hold; he made use of the warmth of the witch by his side to comfort him.
"Hello Mum," it would have sounded so trite, so insignificant, but Harry put a lifetime of longing into those two simple words, and Lily understood. To see her son so close and yet untouchable it broke her heart, but as she gazed out of ghostly eyes to the young couple on the sofa her heart mended, for she could see what no one else could and she knew that, as a mother, she would never have to worry about Harry again.
There was so much to say and nowhere near enough time in which to say it all. Hermione watched as Harry, James and Lily packed so many years into so few hours, and as she did she was reminded of her own family and she wondered if they could ever comprehend what was happening here. The faces of her mother and father came to her as clearly as the faces of Harry's parents were in this room and deep in her heart she knew they would understand. She watched, she listened, she joined in the conversation, all the time holding Harry's hand and giving him all the support she could, she wished and hoped that Lily and James would stay, but it was not to be. Their time was limited and as the talking subsided into silences filled with looks that contained incalculable amount of love they began to fade. The tears had been wept but the love remained and as Lily's final kiss, blown to them by the thinning shade, reached them and surrounded them with a shining warmth Harry and Hermione were left alone once more.
Harry knew he would never see his mother and father again, this visit to their son had been the final unfinished task for James and Lily. The reconstruction of the cottage had allowed them to appear this once and allowed Harry the time to understand and to come to terms with what his father and mother meant to him. He looked upon his loss with the eyes of an adult now and felt the pride in what his parents had achieved, the sadness would never completely fade but it could never be used against him again. It would strengthen him in the years to come and become an ally against the forces of evil. Although alone once more Harry and Hermione knew they were in the one place that was completely safe, Fawkes had seen to that. James and Lily had told them that the magic of the phoenix was so old and complex that even though Voldemort knew where the cottage was he would never be able to find it again. The Dark Lord could stand on the spot where he knew the doorstep to be and cast spells for all he was worth, but those inside and the cottage itself, would remain hidden and safe from him.
Hermione sighed, in this one evening Harry had shouldered his adulthood, he carried it well, and she was very proud of him, but the night was drawing on and tiredness was clawing at them again. She took him by the hand and led him upstairs pushing him into the bedroom she had so recently redecorated. Harry stopped, looking at the large bed, that was not exactly like his parents' had been, but was definitely built for two, he turned back to Hermione who was standing just inside the room; she stared steadily at him and then very deliberately shut the bedroom door behind her.
When Hermione awoke it was late in the morning, Harry was lying on his back beside her his bare chest uncovered by the blankets, his breathing was relaxed and regular and his features peaceful in sleep. She had no regrets, in fact she wondered why she had waited so long, but she knew the reason, they had never had the opportunity to let their guard down before. Only in this wonderful place were they able to let their love have free rein, without the worry that their subsequent inattention to their surroundings would bring about some disaster. Here they were safe, and so last night they gave their desires all the freedom they needed, she smiled as she ran a finger over his warm skin, they hadn't been as tired as they thought. Now she could not imagine loving anyone else, Harry had been so careful and considerate that in the end the feeling had been breathtaking and she had never wanted it to stop.
Harry opened his eyes at the click of the latch on the bedroom door, Hermione's side of the bed was empty and for a moment he wondered where she had gone, then he could hear the sound of running water from the bathroom and his unspoken question was answered. When she returned wrapped in a large bath towel and drying her short hair with another, she saw that he was awake and leapt on the bed to throw her arms around him. Harry could not describe how he felt; only that he had never felt this way before, there were so many emotions wound about him that they all merged together and consumed him utterly.
They stayed in the cottage in Godrics Hollow for two days, but on the Friday morning as the sun tried to lighten a rather sullen sky, it was time to leave they closed the house, mounted the motorcycle and headed off to find Ravenclaws brooch.
The home of Pattiswick Messing, the grandly named Mountfitchet Castle, was little more than a hovel and it was a hovel that had seen better days, which was probably why it had taken Harry and Hermione several days to find it. The window glass where it was in place was cracked and dirty, the front door was overgrown with ivy and Harry and Hermione couldn't find the rear entrance because of the vegetation that covered that entire side of the building. No one had lived here for some considerable time, that was clear, and it made Harry become very cautious as he crept up to the window next to the front door. Through the stained and dirty glass he could see a small table and on it a much smaller jewellery box, Harry had no doubt that the box contained the brooch and he equally had no doubt that the whole setup was a trap. Hermione was standing behind him facing to their rear, her eyes were alert, her wand drawn, and a crouched stance showed that she was ready for anything.
"What do you reckon Harry?" she said not turning away from her vigilance.
"It's a trap, but whose I'm not sure." Harry replied, trying in vain to see into the shadows on the far side of the single room that made up the lower floor of the building. "Could be one of Voldemort's or maybe our old friend RAB has been at it again but what ever we have to check it out."
"It's not likely to be real though is it, couldn't we just leave it, and not take the risk?" she suggested in the hope that Harry might agree.
"We could, but then we would never know if it was a Horcrux until we have a go at Voldemort himself," said Harry as he worked out his plan of approach. "And then it would be too late and too bad if it was."
Hermione said nothing for she knew he was right, and she only jumped slightly when Harry raised his wand and with a silent "Reducto" reduced the front door to matchwood.
The dust began to settle, and to the eyes of the pair the only thing that had happened was the destruction of the door. Nothing leaped out of the ground to attack them nothing fell from the sky in an attempt to burn them with its fire or rend them with it's talons, it was all a bit of a let down. Harry shrugged his shoulders and stepped across the threshold of the door, he still had his wand at the ready and Hermione was covering his back, her gaze never wavering. He approached the table, the dust on its surface was scuffed, someone had passed here recently, and several someones to judge by the number of robe sleeve trails that crisscrossed the dusty top. The jewellery box was clean and Harry could see the overlapping squares in the dust where the box had been replaced in slightly different positions. He looked around, although most of the room was as neglected and ramshackle as he expected it to be, the floor from the door to the table and then into the shadows at the back of the room was brushed clean by the passage of many travelling cloaks. This place was not as it had first appeared; a lot of people had passed this way, but for what purpose.
Harry reached forward and picked up the small box and opened it, he glanced down at the beautiful blue stoned brooch that lay inside.
"Ravenclaw's brooch?" he breathed the words over the jewel. "I think not," he added, partly to himself, but his original pronouncement had acted like some form of password and a flicker of light pierced the darkness that hid the rear wall. An opening began to appear.
"Hermione," he called, "hide the bike and come in here." Seconds later she was at his side. "Look," he pointed to the now gaping doorway to a lighted tunnel that ran straight for a few yards then curved away to the left. "What do you reckon?" he whispered, it seemed prudent.
Wordlessly Hermione flicked her wand at the pile of debris that had been the front door and silently it sprang together again to refill the aperture. "The brooch not a Horcrux then?" she asked.
"Not even anything to do with Ravenclaw," he replied showing her the blue stone with the lizard like emblem on it.
"Oh a chameleon, how strange," she said and Harry raised his eyes, trust her to know exactly what it was. "They can change their colour to blend in with their backgrounds, a bit like a Metamorphmagus. I wonder whose crest that is?"
"No idea," said Harry, "should we investigate?" he asked drawing her attention back to the passageway.
"Nothing better to do today," she quipped. "Lead on McDuff." She sounded most un-Hermione like.
Harry gave her a searching look. "You OK Hermione?" he asked gently, worried that the events of the last few days could have affected her in ways he wouldn't understand, they had certainly modified his way of thinking.
Hermione smiled at his confusion, light heartedness was not a usual state of expression for her in situations like this, but a few things had changed for her. She felt very safe in his company, that had always been so, but now there was an extra excitement to everything. Just briefly, in those last two days at the cottage, she had glimpsed an existence, beyond Voldemort and all these troubles, which she found very compelling. This vision returned to her at unexpected intervals, it would make her shiver and inwardly smile then buoy her up whenever she was unsure, and drive away the uncertainty. "Never better." she replied.
Her answer appeared to reassure Harry and he put her attitude down to the basic difference between boys and girls, it was a safe assumption because no one understood that.
"Right, let's go," he said, and together, wands advanced, the witch and wizard walked forward and disappeared into the tunnel.
* * *
The dark confines of the Slytherin common room were almost empty of students, a small group of older members of the house sat close to the fire. Even in the summer term the rooms were cold, now at the beginning of November they were perishing, and the fire gave the only relief, and at this time of night, the only source of light in the underground room. A tall, dark skinned, black haired boy appeared to be holding court, the five students with him sitting close and listening to his every word. Millicent Bulstrode, her considerable form overshadowing the smaller girl by her side, leaned forward and gave a wicked smile at the thought of all the trouble that was to fall on the subjects of their discussions.
Pansy Parkinson though no shrinking violet herself appeared diminished in her seat next to Millicent, the disappearance of Draco Malfoy at the end of last year had affected her badly. The loss of her boyfriend with no idea where he had gone made her feel unwanted, and it hurt. She had little interest in the machinations of Mr Zabini except that it may provide an opportunity to mete out some pain to the Gryffindors, the Slytherins natural enemy, who, she had decided were the cause of her lack of intimacy with the only boy who had paid her any attention.
The three boys, friends of Blaise, were from the sixth year and were a rather unsavoury bunch. Jonas Fettor, Offa Ditchwater and Derrick Messing were the muscle of the group, more intelligent than Crabbe or Goyle if not quite their size.
Of Draco's two old minders there was little sign, with their lord and master gone, no good in class, and lost outside it, they had retreated to the darkest corners of the common room and watched the newcomers with loathing. Draco may have treated them with scorn, not that Crabbe and Goyle understood scorn, but at least he had included them in his plans to get even with Potter, Weasley and the Granger girl. Now without him their world was very lonely and had no purpose and with their limited brain power there was nothing they could do about it.
Blaise Zabini's reason for this gathering by the fire was due to a request made to him by Delores Umbridge. He hadn't been all that surprised that she had once again turned to Slytherin to help her out, but her request had. For some reason she was convinced that Harry Potter had something to do with all that fuss in the trophy room, not that any of the students really knew what had happened only that the room was now closed and off limits, and Umbridge desperately wanted to know where Mr. Potter was hiding.
To Blaise the answer was simple, read the Daily Prophet. At least once a week there was a sighting of the runaway hero, always abroad though, never in this country, but that did not satisfy the ex-inquisitor of Hogwarts. She wanted someone to lean on Potter's friends and get the truth, and Blaise was very happy to provide his help in this matter, any semi-official harassment of Gryffindors could only be looked on as a bonus.
From that moment on Ron and Ginny had become legitimate targets for the Slytherins. As he expounded on his plans to waylay the two Gryffindors that would know where Potter was, if anyone did, Crabbe and Goyle were not the only ones to overhear his words. In another dark alcove Theodore Nott a clever, skinny, loner, listened and thought that this information, if Blaise managed to get it, would be useful to his father's friends, and would not do him any harm either. The contacts he had made over the summer had made promises and given assurances that if he aided their cause and that of the Dark Lord then the rewards would be immense, and Theodore had liked the sound of that.
Over the next few days Blaise and his cronies watched and waited for the opportunity to get at the brother and sister. They wanted them alone if necessary, together if possible, and then it would be simple to use the old method of applying pain to one, in order to extract information from the other. Never very far behind, Theodore Nott watched and waited with them, he only left their shadow when he could not avoid it, but unfortunately for him it was on one of these occasions when Ron, Ginny and Luna happened to be together alone in an empty corridor, and the Slytherins pounced.
Ron had only the slightest of warnings as Luna sensed the approach of unfriendly thoughts, but her cry of, "Ronald, watch out!" only allowed him to turn to receive the stunner aimed at him squarely in the chest, and he was blasted off his feet. Ginny reacted faster than her brother and whirled around, red hair flying, to unleash her trademark Bat Bogey hex at the body closest to her, Offa Ditchwater reeled back, his face covered in the flapping mess that rendered him helpless. She faced her attackers her wand sparking with her anger but then lowered her guard at the sight of Millicent Bulstrode holding a weakly struggling Luna and Blaise Zabini placing his wand at her throat.
"Drop it Weasley," Blaise said coldly, his intentions of harming Luna very clear. Ginny glared at him but lowered her wand and placed it in her robes again, defying any of then to try and take it from her. "In there," Blaise nodded toward a classroom door and Ginny backed to the door, opened it and stepped inside. The others followed, Millicent still holding a now quiescent Luna and Jonas and Derrick dragging an unconscious Ron. Blaise glared down at Offa now sitting against the corridor wall vainly trying to free himself from Ginny's hex, grunted at his predicament and pulled the door to.
"Bind his eyes and bring him round," Zabini ordered, Jonas and Derrick complied and as Ron made noises of stirring the two Slytherins propped him against a desk.
"Ginny, Luna, are you OK?" Ron said weakly.
"Better that you, big brother," Ginny replied as she knelt by his side.
Millicent Bulstrode had released Luna who sat at another desk seemingly frightened out of her wits. She made no effort to reach Ron or respond to his question, her inaction and wilted appearance encouraged the Slytherins to ignore her and they turned their attention to the Gryffindors.
Out in the corridor Gregory Goyle who had by chance crossed its end and seen Ditchwater sitting slumped against the wall, the evidence of a superb Bat Bogey hex clear for all to see plastered over his face, pushed the classroom door at Offa's side open just a few inches. He could see everything, through the gap. Ron Weasley, for some reason blindfolded, now being lifted to his feet by Jonas and Derrick, Ginny Weasley near them and the Lovegood girl sitting alone at a desk. Blaise Zabini was walking up and down in front of the two Gryffindors, he was actually thinking very hard but Goyle could not recognise an expression he had never felt, and Millicent was over by the window looking menacing.
"All I want Weasley is an answer to a simple question," said Blaise.
"You can stuff your questions Zabini," Ron responded, leaving little to the imagination as to where Blaise could stuff them.
"Now, now, that's not playing the game, you wouldn't want little Ginny here to suffer for your stubbornness?" the oil fairly dripped from Zabini's words. He quickly touched his wand to Ginny's arm and she shrieked in pain. Ron struggled with his captors. "Tell me Weasley where is Potter?"
"I don't know, and I don't care," came through Ron's gritted teeth, "He ran off with my girlfriend if you remember, so I don't actually keep tabs on him."
"Oh yes that right," Blaise laughed, "You had the hots for that mudblood Granger, I'd forgotten that." He thought for a moment. "But I bet you still know where they are." And he reached forward once more to Ginny who backed away straight into the arms of Millicent.
Ginny screamed again but Goyle still at the door heard nothing, just the girl opening her mouth in silent terror; someone had placed a silencing charm on the room.
Goyle may not had heard anything but Ron did, behind his blindfold he could only imaging what was happening to Ginny as her screams tailed off to a whimper.
Luna was concentrating very hard, she knew they needed help and she knew there was someone in the castle who could provide that help. She called again and again to him in her mind and in the end he answered.
"I see that only the strongest persuasion is going to work on you Weasley," proclaimed Blaise who was beginning to lose his temper.
"You can bugger off, and leave her alone," shouted Ron, who had lost his a while ago, but could do nothing about it. "I am not telling you anything about Harry."
"Very well, you leave me no choice," said Zabini with a cold finality.
At the very moment that Blaise Zabini lifted his wand, pointed it directly at Ginny who Millicent had thrown to the floor, and chanted "Crucio" several things happened at once.
Ginny screamed so loudly that the sound pierced Ron like a spear and he shouted out,
"NOOO!"
Luna threw her arms over her eyes to protect them, and there was a brilliant flash of white light and a sound of rushing wind as something passed through the room and all the Slytherins collapsed to the ground.
At the door Gregory Goyle stared in amazement. Protected from the flash of light by the door only being partly open he had seen what none of the others had. There was someone who could not possibly have been there in that room. The long white hair and the star spangled robe had whirled around as the almost transparent figure passed by touching each of the Slytherins so that they crumpled to the floor. In the instant before he vanished the spectre looked Goyle directly in the eyes and the boy recognised the apparition for who it was. He was going to cry out in fear but at the instant of recognition the memory that was forming was wiped away, Goyle stepped back, turned and ran, and he did not stop until he had reached the relative safety of the Slytherin common room.
In the classroom it had gone very quiet, then Ron realising he was no longer held, pulled the blindfold away. Ginny was lying near his feet curled in a tight ball Ron bent down to her, she was making quiet whimpering noises, and he could see two red wheals on her arm that she had wrapped over her head in an attempt to protect herself. Luna stumbled toward him and knelt down next to Ginny.
"I am so sorry Ginny, I acted as fast as I could," she wailed, the tears dripping from her eyes.
Ron looked at his girlfriend, then at the crumpled bodies lying around, "You did this?" he asked with incredularity.
"In a way, I suppose I did," Luna said quietly.
Ron shook his head in admiration of the slight blonde headed girl, then leaned forward and kissed her.
Ginny moaned and began to move in an effort to sit up "God that was awful," she said weakly. "Where's Zabini?" she asked, some of the fire of anger returning to her eyes.
"Over there," said Ron pointing with his free hand, as he helped her into a chair.
Then the door to the room was flung open and Professor McGonagall with Poppy Pomfrey in tow marched into the classroom.
"Professor…," Ron started up ready to explain.
"It's alright Weasley,…Ron I am fully aware of what has been going on." she surveyed the comatose Slytherins. "Rest assured that these miscreants will be packed off as soon as it is safe to do so. I will not tolerate this type of behaviour in my school."
The school nurse shooed Ron to one side and examined the fire headed girl, who still looked the worse for wear.
"Minerva, Miss Weasley ought to be up in the hospital wing." Ginny began to protest, "Just for a few hours of observation," Madam Pomfrey insisted kindly.
Ginny mumbled with a disgruntled if resigned tone as the nurse led her away. Passing Blaise lying on his side she accidentally tripped over his head stepping on his nose as she did so. "Sorry," she said sarcastically to the unconscious Slytherin. Then she looked at her brother and smiled, "Ron would you tell Dean where I am, I promised to see him at lunch," Ron gave her a tight smile, he still did not really approve of Ginny rekindling her attachment to his dorm mate again.
Just very briefly his thoughts paired Ginny with Harry again and he with Hermione then a slender arm encircled his waist and looking down into Luna's eyes he forgot all about it again. "Yes OK, sure." he said to the back of his sister's head as she disappeared into the corridor. "Sorry," Ron apologised to Luna.
She gave him a very deep look, "What for?" she asked, already knowing the reason.
"Nothing." answered Ron.
Theodore Nott was almost mown down by Goyle as he rushed by heading to the Slytherin common room. He made a snap decision and he set off in the direction Goyle had run from and was in time to see Madam Pomfrey leading a slightly unsteady Ginny Weasley up the stairs towards the Hospital Wing.
"Damn," he thought, "it's only been ten minutes or so, surely nothing could have happened in such a short space of time." But creeping into the corridor he realised how wrong he was.
Two house elves were levitating an unconscious Blaise out of a classroom door, and his compatriots similarly accompanied and in a similar state were being wafted down the corridor in the direction of the dungeons. Nott, keeping close to the wall, gained the door without being discovered, and although he could not see into the room he recognised Ron Weasley's voice immediately.
"They wanted to know where Harry was Professor," he was saying. "They tortured Ginny to make me tell. Do you think they wanted the information for Voldemort?"
"It is very possible Ron," that was the Headmistress; Nott could not mistake that accent.
"But there are others closer to home that are most keen to get an idea of that young man's whereabouts. So we must not jump to conclusions on that score."
"I'm not sure the Shrieking Shack is going to be safe for them anymore." said Ron Weasley's voice. Theodore Nott almost laughed out loud at his luck.
"Certainly not if you keep blabbing out his location," said McGonagall admonishing Ron for his lapse, but as Nott turned and slipped away, the damage, it appeared, had already been done.
* * *
The tunnel was far from straight; it wove back and forth, first to the left and then the right, Harry and Hermione had to keep their guard up in case they met anyone coming in the other direction, but luck was with them, and as they rounded the last bend they could see the sunlight and a clear passageway out. The very end of the tunnel was an arbour, the trees forming it were woven tightly together to form the wooded arch, and from this the pair exited onto an open lawn which led up to a large imposing stone built house. Harry quickly pulled Hermione to one side and slipped back into the tree line that marked the edge of the lawns.
The building had crenulated walls and towers and looked far more like the Mountfitchet Castle that Harry had expected to find, but it also looked as if they had stepped into a nightmare. There were Dementors here, floating along the battlements and patrolling the lawns, but that was not all; a giant, fully twenty five feet tall, was ambling over the grass towards a large barn on the far side of the house. Harry and Hermione watched with mounting trepidation as the shambling figure bent low to enter the doorway that was as large as the castle doors at Hogwarts. Then they looked at each other in alarm as a loud bellow and the red glow of flame told them that there was also a dragon in the grounds.
"None of this was visible when we flew over this way," whispered Hermione in Harry's ear. "It must be hidden from us as well as the muggles."
"And with Giants and Dementors it means they're Voldemort's, and up to no good," said Harry. "I reckon it's a staging post, somewhere where their forces meet before they head off to carry out one of Riddle's missions."
"Is there anything we can do about it?" asked Hermione, feeling that perhaps for the two of them to take this lot on was a bit ambitious.
Harry gave her a grin that didn't instil much confidence in her, she knew that they were not just going to slip away unnoticed; Harry was thinking on his feet again, things could get messy.
"Let's go and see how much control they have over that dragon," he said with a wink. "Maybe we can cause a little mayhem without exposing ourselves too much."
They kept in the trees as they made their way around toward the sound of an unhappy dragon and they found it chained in a small clearing just inside the woods. The beast was straining at the chain that held it on the ground and out of reach of the two wizards who were firing stinging spells at its head. Whilst dragon hide was almost impervious to magic, around the face and especially their eyes dragons were very sensitive and this treatment was not sitting well with this particular specimen.
Hermione looked out on the scene from behind a tree. "Isn't that….?" she began to ask.
"A Norwegian Ridgeback?" supplied Harry, "Yup sure is, and it looks mad to me."
"Perhaps we shouldn't…." Hermione began again, but her words were superseded by Harry's action. The electric blue stream that shot from the end of Harry's wand neatly cut the restraining manacle from the dragon's hind leg.
The beast knew it was free the moment the chain fell away but before reacting to its freedom it turned and looked directly at Harry with dark and smouldering eyes, then moving at an incredible speed the dragon whipped around and fell on the two wizards who had been teasing it and tore them to shreds. Hermione reached out for Harry who was standing exposed on the edge of the clearing and pulled him forcibly to her and behind her sheltering tree, but the dragon, finished with its grisly task, paid them no attention. Instead it launched itself into the air and headed out over the lawns directly towards the large barn that contained the giant.
It swooped over the building letting out a massive bellow and a blast of fire, the heat of which reached back to Harry and Hermione several hundred yards away. The barn erupted into flames and then the end with the doors burst open and the giant lumbered out onto the grass. The dragon and the giant obviously didn't get along; the fight that ensued tore up great sections of the once immaculately kept lawns, as flame and swings of a massive club were exchanged. Harry and Hermione, back in the shelter of the trees, were only peripherally aware this battle of the titans because they had problems of their own.
Harry felt the coldness in the air before, in realisation of its source, he turned to stare back into the darkness of the wood, and there floating between the trees were at least half a dozen Dementors. With Hermione at his side they faced this new threat, wands were raised and twin cries of "EXPECTO PATRONUM" shouted out.
Prongs burst from Harry's wand, and galloped off into the fray, but Hermione's Patronus was slower to appear and as it formed she realised that this was not the small animal she usually produced, but a silver hind, equally the size of Harry's stag.
Hermione gazed in wonder at the animal as it raced into the trees after Prongs; it should have taken the form of a shiny sliver otter, that was what it had always been before, but it seemed that some of the changes that had come over her the last few days were more profound than even she had been aware of.
Suddenly it all made perfect sense and Hermione smiled. "Elowyn," she whispered, and it seemed to her that she had known the animal's name all her life, only now she was free and able to run.
The advancing Dementors scattered before the two shining sliver animals as heads down they charged the dark cloaked figures. Flying back into the trees, then up into the air, the soul eaters retreated to the house.
The Patronuses having done their work returned through the woods to the witch and wizard standing by the tree. They stopped before them and both Prongs and Elowyn bowed to Harry and Hermione, then they tilted their heads together and touched muzzles. The caress was brief but the shock of the touch was felt by both the young people as the essence of their magical selves found one another.
"Aww, how sweet," said a rather unpleasant voice from the clearing to Harry and Hermione's back. The pair whirled around and standing not ten feet from them was a large rangy man, with matted grey hair and whiskers, he had long yellow nails and his blacks Death Eater robes appeared too tight for him. Fenrir Greyback smiled showing yellowed pointed teeth, and raised a bottle to his lips, he swallowed once then doubled over in obvious discomfort and before the shocked eyes of Harry and Hermione he began his transformation into a werewolf.
This should not be happening, it could not be happening, it was broad daylight, yet as they had seen with Remus Lupin the changes rapidly turned the man into a ravening, slavering creature, but there the similarities stopped. When Remus had transformed that evening in their third year he had lost all control, the beast in him completely took over and his only thoughts were to rend and kill anything that crossed his path. This was not so with Greyback, his eyes retained the look of sanity and intelligence, and his first action was not to pursue his prey who were moving back into the trees in what would be a fruitless attempt to escape him, but to place the bottle carefully down on the ground. Only then did he turn his attention to Harry and Hermione, and screwing his face into what was a ghastly smile, produced from vocal chords only designed to provide an unearthly howl, a sound that almost passed for speech.
"Come Potter," the words were hard to make out and the mouth that made them dripped with saliva, but Greyback's beckoning finger reinforced the meaning. "Don't run, it will be over the sooner if you stay still."
Frightened as Harry was, he was not about to give in that easily, and instinctively trying to put Hermione in an illusionary safe position behind him, he stared imminent death in the face.
He wouldn't have believed that an animal of that size could move so silently, he knew from experience how fast they were, but there was no sound at all and as Greyback bunched his muscles and sprang forward to tear Harry apart, the dragon, swooping down into the clearing, snapped his jaws shut on the leaping werewolf. With a sickening crunch the dragon's teeth met, Fenrir made no sound, there wasn't time, but Harry saw his eyes bulge as his chest was crushed then torn in two. The pieces of the werewolf fell to the ground almost at Harry's feet, and as they twitched in final spasm the effects of the lycanthropy faded, and Fenrir's human face reappeared, his sightless eyes staring fixedly at Harry.
Hermione shuddered at the sight and drew her gaze away but it fell on a image that was equally awful, and gripping Harry tight she murmured, "Oh God." For the dragon, with werewolf blood dripping from its jaws, had landed in the clearing and was staring back at them. Harry had faced a dragon before, not one exactly like this, but he knew how vicious they could be. This particular beast had killed two wizards, presumably finished off the giant, and had torn a werewolf in two, all in the space of a few minutes, and now it looked as if was going to finish its meal and Harry and Hermione were dessert.
Harry stepped around Greyback's body and with Hermione now at his side and hanging onto his arm faced the creature; there was no point in running, for they would never reach safety. There were a few spells that might work on the dragon and Harry was running these through his mind as he worked out what to do. The dragon licked his lips then snorted at the taste of Fenrir's blood and a small trickle of flame dripped from its mouth onto the ground, then he raised his head and sniffed, it was almost as if he was searching for something.
"Keep absolutely still Hermione," whispered Harry, "maybe there is something out there more interesting than us."
"I don't think so," she replied quietly, as the ridgeback took a step towards them.
Then moving so fast that to them the movement was nothing more than a blur the dragon struck, but it did not bite, it stopped mere inches from the pair then pressed its nose against them and sniffed again. Harry wasn't sure why, but some inner voice was telling him to do nothing, and he glanced reassuringly at Hermione who was standing there with her eyes tight shut and he could hear her mumbling to herself, "It'll be OK, It'll be OK, It'll be OK…"
Perhaps it was the dragon hide coats that attracted, him but Harry felt it was the people in the coats that the dragon was more interested in, he felt dragon dribble run down the side of his face and heard Hermione stifle a little shriek as she received the same treatment. Then with a snort of dragon breath that ruffled their hair, the dragon drew away, sat back and regarded them tilting his head to one side like a curious puppy. Then the idea came to Harry from way in the past, his past, Hermione's past and the dragon's past. He could not see how it could be but then there was nothing to tell him it why it shouldn't, the dragon just sat there not showing any interest in attacking them and he knew he was right.
"Look at him Hermione," said Harry and somewhat unwillingly she opened her eyes.
"Remind you of anyone?"
"No Harry not really," she said with only a trace of sarcasm, "I don't know many dragons personally, in fact apart from those ones at the tournament and the one that tried to get us in September, I've only ever met one other as well you know." Harry raised his eyebrows and she looked from him to the dragon then back to her now smiling boyfriend. "We are taking coincidence to ridiculous lengths here Harry," she said with maximum disbelief," are you trying to tell me that this great terrifying dragon is…."
"Norbert? …Yes," said Harry, "I do believe he is."
* * *