Chapter Fourteen
The Watcher in the Tower
He had done the Dark Lord's bidding but in the end he had failed him, and he didn't know why. Draco Malfoy had much time on his hands these days, and he spent most of it thinking about the events of his last year at Hogwarts, and especially what had occurred on the balcony of the astronomy tower. The attempts he had made to attack and destroy the Headmaster had appeared direct enough to him, but the more he thought about it the more he realised that Dumbledore had been correct, they were done out of desperation and fear of failure. Had he really put his heart and soul into succeeding?
That is what frightened him the most, the thought that he hadn't really wanted to kill the old man and that when the time came that thought stopped him from completing the task. For someone with his pedigree, with his innate longing for the power of the dark wizards it was a straight forward act, to kill the enemy, …but, and that was it the 'but' he couldn't overcome. Snape had saved him by doing the deed himself and had since told the Dark Lord that it was he, Draco who had cast the curse that had swept the life from the Headmaster. So perhaps he was safe, but he owed Snape and repaid him by doing what he asked of him, which is why on this December day he was cooped up in this depressingly small house that Snape called home.
Since the day they ran from Hogwarts this place had become Draco's refuge. In company with his ex-Professor and that small greasy man Wormtail, he had remained hidden, not only from the revenge of the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix, but from the immediacy of the Dark Lord as well. Draco was well aware that his life was safe as long as Lord Voldemort thought he had completed his task, and in order to perpetuate that illusion he could never meet him face to face, only Snape could withstand the Dark Lord's mastery of Legilimency, he was possibly the only wizard who could.
Snape had woven a story so complete and so believable that Draco was left under his supervision to be educated in the ways of the dark arts so that he would prove more useful in times to come. Snape had taught him certainly, but Draco suspected not as thoroughly or intensively as he could have, and it maybe that others had come to the same conclusion. For only last week Wormtail had returned from one of his short absences from Spinners End in company with a large snake. This animal, Draco was sure, he had seen in company with the Dark Lord, and when not curled up asleep it would slide around the house or lie and listen to the lessons Snape would give.
Draco did not consider the duplicity of Severus Snape or if he had an agenda that only he was following, he had seen him blast Dumbledore off the top of the tower, there was no question in his mind where the loyalties of the Professor lay. Had Draco remembered more about the way the killing curse worked then he would have doubted more, but his ignorance saved him.
The front door opened and Wormtail, preceded by an icy wind, stumbled through. He had patrolled the local streets every night since his return with the snake, and had always found them the same, dark and deserted, but tonight Draco noticed that the man was looking even more fearful than usual. His movements were fast and jerky as he looked about the room, his gaze finally settling on the coils of Nagini where they were as usual wound around the chair closest to the fire.
"There is someone out there, in the next street," Peter Pettigrew spoke to the reptile. The snake raised her head and regarded the fat man with her slit like eyes. Peter squeaked in fear, her presence terrified him, in his animagus form he was her natural prey and when those expressionless eyes stared at him he had to fight his instinct to run. "It may be a muggle, one of those tramps, but I definitely saw a light in a house in the next street."
Nagini's head wove from side to side and a hissing sound issued from her mouth, a sound that was unintelligible to both Wormtail and Draco as the speech of the snakes could only be understood by a parslemouth. The fat man fumbled in his pocket for the piece of parchment that the Dark lord had given him. He unfolded it and as the snake hissed, the words appeared on the yellowed square.
"Take the boy and investigate, if it is a muggle kill it."
"Just like that?" Pettigrew's protest was very mild, "And what if it is a wizard?"
"Bring it to me," appeared on the page, and then the words faded as had the ones before.
Peter hesitated then jumped backwards as Nagini made to strike at him, knowing that there was no way he could counter the snake's wishes Peter beckoned to Malfoy.
"Come Draco, we have a job to do."
"Professor Snape told me not to leave the house unless he was with me," Draco's dissention was more for the sake of it rather than the fact that he cared. Cooped up in this prison for months he was dying to get out, Snape had never thought it worth the risk and perhaps he was right.
"You will not disobey the Master!" Wormtail spat out, eyeing Nagini nervously. "Be assured what she knows he knows, the orders are his not hers."
That little piece of information gave Draco something else to worry about. Had he ever spoken his secret out loud, thinking he was alone, with only the snake for company? No, if he had then the Dark Lord's retribution would be swift and final, and by now he would be dead. Draco shivered as it came to his mind that if the snake was really an extension of the Dark Lord then perhaps he was not as safe as he had imagined, the snake was obviously here to spy on one of them but who, himself, Wormtail or Snape. This had all passed through his mind in a flash, and with no appreciable pause Draco had grunted his assent to the command and climbed to his feet, retrieving his wand from the table and his cloak from the stand, he gave Nagini one last look as she settled her coils again, and then he followed the fat man out into the cold.
* * *
Hermione had pulled away from the window as soon as she recognised the face in the street below and stretched her wand out to Harry's touching it lightly and murmuring "Nox." The faint light that Harry was using to examine the details of one of the trinkets from Mundungus' case was instantly extinguished.
"What?" he questioned, then at the expression on her face and the movement of her eyes telling him to look outside, he cautiously peered over the windowsill and into the street below. Harry didn't need to see his face, for that squat bent form was indelibly imprinted on his brain, and "Wormtail," slowly escaped his mouth and his eyes began to burn with anger. The soft restraining hand that was placed on his shoulder curbed his instinct to rid the world of another piece of unwanted trash.
Hermione's, "No Harry, please wait," steadied him further.
They watched as the nervous little man looked this way and that, glancing again and again to the window they were looking out of. The bright moonlight was fading in and out as another bunch of clouds scudded across the sky, and although they were sure he had not seen their faces they were convinced he had seen the light. Pettigrew scuttled out of sight down one of the side alleys and Harry and Hermione jumped to their feet.
"We better get out of here Harry," Hermione was in no doubt that Wormtail would be back and possibly with reinforcements.
"Yes quite agree, let's see if we can find out where he went." Harry was halfway to the door before he realised Hermione wasn't following.
"That's not what I meant," then she sighed knowing that it was useless to protest. "Ok but let's not rush into things …Slow and quiet, right Harry?"
Harry smiled and held out his hand, "Right… you know me."
"Exactly," she replied with feeling, but took the proffered hand and allowed herself to be led down and out of the house. At the front door she halted once again pulling Harry to a stop. Hermione shut the door and pointed her wand at the lock, she said nothing but a faint pink spark shot from the end of the wand. It entered through the key hole and a faint click issued from the door.
"There, let Mundungus try to open that again, he'll have to fly through the window if he wants to make use of his ill gotten gains."
"I thought you were sorry for him back in Azkaban?" Harry asked.
"I was," Hermione replied, "But I don't see he should make a profit out of Sirius."
Harry smiled at the strange logic of girls. "Well in that case," the yellow mist that drifted up from Harry's raised wand settled on the window glass and faded from view, "he won't get in that way either. …Come on Wormtail went this way."
The pair slipped across the road and hid in the shadows at the entrance to the cut way, Pettigrew was nowhere in sight. Hand in hand, keeping close to the wall they crept through the narrow alleyway, hoping that they wouldn't meet anyone coming back the other way, because apart from the dark shadows there was nowhere to hide. The graffiti covered sign proclaimed the next street to be Spinners End and like all the others in the area it appeared to be deserted, and as the moon made yet another foray out from behind the clouds there were even less places to hide.
"Stupid," Harry heard Hermione mutter the word under her breath, and then the tap of her wand on the top of his head and the familiar feeling of raw egg running down over him as he was disillusioned. "Sorry Harry should have thought of this earlier, will you do the honours?"
Invisibly smiling Harry tapped Hermione with his own wand and as his girlfriend faded from view renewed his grip on her hand so they should not be separated. Still taking care that their almost invisible forms would not be recognised for what they were, they crossed the street to the side that was out of the pale moonlight. Spinners End showed no more signs of habitation than Weavers Row had, but as the wall of the factory backed onto the rear of the houses on this the darker side of the street, Pettigrew could have gone no further. He must be inside one of them but which? Harry and Hermione could do no more other than wait and see if anyone emerged, but even wrapped warm in their dragon hide coats and sitting on a low wall huddled together, they knew it would have to be soon or the cold would get to them.
Fortunately some ten minutes later the dim light from oil lamps seeped out around a partly opened door in a house down by the end of the street. The front door to the house opened fully and Peter Pettigrew stepped onto the pavement, at this point Hermione grabbed hold of Harry and physically restrained him from leaping up to attack the second person who emerged from the house. Even in the light available there was no mistaking the white blonde hair and the long aristocratic face of Draco Malfoy, if there was any doubt to his identity it was shattered when the young wizard spoke.
"Professor Snape won't be happy about this, Wormtail," Harry was shaking violently and Hermione was struggling to control him, "I shall tell him when he returns," Draco's complaining voice cut through the air.
Pettigrew turned quickly, almost ramming his wand up Draco's nose and wiggling it in his face. "I have told you once boy that the orders of that snake are the orders of the Master, you would be a fool to disobey him …again." There was a moments silence while Peter allowed the words to sink in. "Oh yes boy I know, and I know that Snape is covering for you. Now stop mucking about and do as you are told." With that Pettigrew turned on his heel and marched towards the alleyway, Draco almost had to run to keep up with him.
Hermione could feel Harry's rage and she held him tight as she whispered in where she thought his ear might be.
"I know how you feel Harry, but now is not the time, slow and steady, you promised." She felt his invisible body relax in her invisible arms.
"Ok I know, but Wormtail, Malfoy and Nagini all in one place…" he left it hanging there.
"They'll still be here when we're ready …didn't you hear, Draco's in hiding, I don't think any of them are going anywhere, they'll keep." Hermione tried to be reassuring. "Trust me Harry," and with invisible lips kissed his invisible cheek. "Let's go back to the Burrow," and with that thought the invisible pair disappeared without a sound.
* * *
"Where on earth have you two been!" was the greeting Harry and Hermione received when they stepped through the kitchen door of the Burrow. It was well after midnight and Ron was the only Weasley still sitting by the fire trying to keep warm.
"Oh …err sorry Ron but…" Harry tried hard to come up with a reason why they had left him behind but he wasn't thinking straight yet.
Hermione pushed Harry into a chair by the large kitchen table then sat herself next to him and turned to Ron. "You seemed so happy to see everyone here this evening, and Harry had this sudden urge to check out Mundungus' hideout, so we went."
"And…" she could see that Ron wasn't really cross with them; perhaps it had been a good party.
"There was nothing in the suitcase…." she replied, "but we might have another lead."
Ron was staring at Harry, he'd seen that look on his face before. "That's not all though, is it?"
Hermione was unsure if it was her place to speak out but Harry gave an almost imperceptible nod. "No we found out where Wormtail, Voldemort's snake, Draco Malfoy, and Professor Snape are hiding."
Ron's face had changed from a rosy red the warmth of the fire had given it, to a rather pasty white as Hermione had run off the list. He drew in a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks as he let it go. "Bloody hell," he whispered, to no one in particular.
There wasn't much else to say and even less they could do about that particular revelation at this time of night so Hermione suggested they sleep on it and tackle it tomorrow. Harry followed Hermione and Ron up the stairs, he was getting to grips with the shock of seeing Malfoy, but the mention by him of Snape's name left a burning deep inside that was hard to quench. Ron had opened the door of the twin's old room and was saying something to Hermione that Harry didn't catch, he saw her go in and he made to follow Ron up to his room, but a hand snaked out through the open bedroom door grabbed his arm and drew him in.
"Err Hermione, won't we get into trouble with Molly" he whispered, as she pulled him closer and began to remove his coat.
"Her idea, according to Ron," she said, "and who are we to argue."
Harry regarded the inestimably comfortable arrangements Mrs Weasley had made for them and tended to agree with Hermione that they shouldn't argue at all.
Over the next few days interspersed with normal holiday preparations, the ideas of what to do next were bounced back and forth between Harry, Hermione and Ron. After such a long period when the information and excitement happened in dribs and drabs they now had more on their collective plate than they knew what to do with. It was at time like this that Harry really missed the help and advice of Dumbledore, and there was no Sirius either, although Hermione had grave doubts that his advice would be the best in these circumstances. They knew they had to spread the load so Harry turned to the only other person he thought would understand…….
"Remus how involved with the Ministry are you?" Harry asked his friend and ex-Professor. He had waited to get his father's old friend on his own, not that he didn't trust Tonks, far from it, but he didn't want to put her in a difficult position.
Remus gave Harry a searching look and smiled. "Do they pay me? No. …Do I tell Tonks everything?......How much do you tell Hermione?" he answered with a question of his own. Harry said nothing in reply but gave an understanding smile. "Come on Harry, I think we've known each other long to trust one another. Don't you?" And Harry did, so he spent the rest of the afternoon talking everything over with the one time Marauder and part time werewolf.
At some point during the discussions Hermione, Ron and then initially to Harry's disquiet Tonks joined the pair. However the ministry witch appeared quite unconcerned by the nature of Harry's revelations and any possible repercussions with those in authority, and it made Harry feel much happier that at least the Auror and his friend knew what they were up to.
"If you get all these pieces of Voldemort's soul it won't make him any less dangerous, I mean he didn't have any of them when he slugged it out with Dumbledore at the ministry," commented Tonks.
"That's true but it will make him beatable, and he won't be able to rise again without them," said Remus seriously, and he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, "It will give us a chance." He thought for a moment. "It seems to me that getting rid of the Horcruxes is your most important task Harry. You ought to head off to Hogwarts and find Kreacher and leave the others to us, we can keep an eye on them, …and don't worry, we can be just as sneaky as the other side," he said to quell the obvious retort Harry was about to make.
* * *
So it was, that late in the afternoon, two days before Christmas Harry, Hermione and Ron emerged from the tunnel that led from the Shrieking Shack. The Whomping Willow stood stock still, enshrouded in ice and snow, held in stasis by Harry pressing the knot on its trunk, reaching out from the end of the tunnel. They hurried away from the Whomping Willow for even under the immobility spell the tree had frightening presence and none of them wanted the branches to take and unexpected swing at them if it managed to shake off the spell early.
There was no way they could completely hide their journey across the snow covered lawns but as there were a few students still in residence their footprints were soon lost amongst others, and then in the trampled patches of snow that showed that the younger students still enjoyed making snowmen, their passage would go unnoticed.
Dobby met them at the castle doors and led them through the deserted corridors to a small room that none of them remembered being in before. Although the presence of appearing and disappearing rooms was not unusual in this mysterious castle, the sight of the reflective pool of water that sat in a shallow hollow formed by the stone floor made them stare with amazement. For reflected in its mirror like surface was not their own faces but the image of a small bent house elf scurrying down a dark corridor. He was holding something close to his chest as he made his way toward a large window, and they could hear his feet slapping against the floor and the mutterings of his voice, but it was too muffled to make any sense of the words.
"Dobby has done as you asked Harry Potter sir," the house elf explained as they watched. "Kreacher goes this way every day, to the small bell tower on the Great Hall roof. There he lives and keeps his things. He is a bad elf, still stealing, he shoulds know better." The image changed to show Kreacher scuttling across the roof and over the low edge of the cupola to disappear inside.
"How the hell are we going to get up there!" exclaimed Ron, "We're not monkeys, … err no offence Dobby," he added looking down at the log armed short legged house elf, and receiving a quelling look from Hermione.
"That's easy," said Harry, "there's a window near the Gryffindor tower that looks right out onto the roof ridge. All we have to do is get out and walk along the ridge and there we are."
"But Harry that must be over a hundred feet high," the nervousness in Hermione's voice gave away the fact that it was a fear of heights that caused the young witches greatest problem with flying.
"The roof doesn't go to a point you know, up there the ridge is about two feet wide, I suppose it's to give access to the bell, you'll be fine, just like walking down a path." said Harry with much more confidence than Hermione was feeling. "Come on," and led the way out towards Gryffindor tower.
It was not as easy as Harry had thought it would be. He had forgotten the weather and the fact that the wide slate path was covered in a thin sheet of ice, the wind was blowing a gale, well at least it was more than a breeze, this made standing upright very difficult, and it was getting dark. Progress was made slowly on hands and knees, and surprisingly there were only two occasions when Hermione thought she was going to be sick, but all the way along the treacherous path she could hear Ron muttering under his breath, "Bloody hell, …bloody hell, …bloody hell," as he fought to keep his grip.
They all felt much safer once they had made it to the small platform that surrounded the base of the domed shaped bell housing. The cupola was actually larger than any of them thought it was going to be, ten feet across or possibly more Harry reasoned, and on the inside of the low wall that supported the stone columns and in turn the roof, was a wooden floor that was level with the external platform. Looking over the wall Harry could see the wooden planking as it stretched away from the wall it appeared quite firm and solid, and he thought would easily carry their weight.
Directly under the bell that hung from the centre of the dome was a square hole in the flooring it was about a yard across, and was the beginnings of a shaft that descended into the darkness. All three of them climbed over the wall into the relative safety and shelter of the cupola, there was nothing to see save the countless bird droppings that dotted the floor. Kreacher was nowhere in sight the only possible place he could have gone was down through the hole in the centre of the flooring. Staring hard into the blackness of the shaft they could see nothing and the sound of the wind whistling over the roof tops made it difficult to hear anything. So when the house elf, shot out of the hole in the floor and over their shoulders, as if propelled by a spring, like a Jack-in-the-box, it came as a bit of a surprise and they all instinctively ducked down.
He was cackling insanely as he landed on the floor behind them, Harry spun around as did the others, and he made a lunge for the elf expecting him to disappear the way Dobby had on numerous occasions. But Kreacher was not running, he had other plans, and the key to those plans he held in his small grubby fist.
Harry did not see it at first, but the gold chain must have touched some stray bit of light, and the flash of the metal caught his eye. Harry didn't know if it was by chance Kreacher should have picked that particular item from his collection or if there was some design in his actions but the heavy locket that was the goal of his search was clasped close to the elf's chest.
Harry lent forward to catch Kreacher as the elf was backing away from him; the bird droppings must have been reasonably fresh because they were still quite wet and Harry was not looking where he was putting his feet. As he stood in the mess Harry's feet shot from underneath him and he fell forwards, almost into Kreacher's lap, the elf threw up his arms to ward Harry off and in that instant the golden chain freed from the elf's grasp, whipped towards Harry and it brushed across his forehead.
The golden chain made contact with Harry's scar, and he felt a flash of pain as he fell to the floor. The house elf looked down in horror at the locket that twitched and smoked in his hand, somehow even without the use of Harry's wand, which was still in his pocket, the Horcrux was activated. The locket burst open in Kreacher's hand, the elf screamed as the hot metal seared his flesh, and as before the shade of Voldemort boiled out of its hiding place.
There was a flash of magic powerful enough to knock Hermione and Ron off their feet, Harry who was already sprawled on the floor and was spared its effects, but Kreacher who had managed to stay standing was flung back to the very edge of the parapet. The house elf struggled, waving his arms furiously in yet another attempt to retain his balance, and the locket flew from his hand. His high pitched shrieks attracted the rapidly forming portion of Voldemort's soul and in irritation swung a contemptuous arm at the wizened figure.
In this incarnation the presence of the Dark Lord was apparently much stronger, for although his hand never touched the elf, the force of the blow lifted the small wriggling creature into the air out and over the edge of the low wall. Kreacher's despairing shriek as he vanished into the darkness cut through Harry like a knife, and he scrambled to his feet drawing his wand ready to fight. He was however quite unprepared for the sight that met his eyes. The solidifying figure of Voldemort was standing over Hermione and Ron who were lying limp and still at his feet and in the terrible wizard's hand was a wand and it was pointed directly at Hermione's heart.
"EXPELEARMIS" Harry shouted, quite forgetting in the heat of the moment the silent use of spells. Unfortunately silent or spoken it didn't really matter for the spell simply passed through the shade of the Dark Lord as if he wasn't there, but at least it drew his attention away from the bodies on the floor. Now Harry found the wand, which he recognised as Hermione's, pointing at him instead, but Voldemort cast no spell nor sent any curse Harry's way. The Dark Lord did not appear to be concerned in treating Harry as a threat; he was staring past him over the young wizard's shoulder at the only obvious escape route from the bell tower. This Voldemort was distracted, called into existence by what should have been one of his other selves; he was looking for it to join with it. It never occurred to him that this callow youth barring his way was exactly what he was seeking. He took one sideways step and Harry countered with a step in the opposite direction trying to keep the distance between them.
As the Dark Lord began to become more than a shade the two performed a curious dance around the gap in the flooring, Voldemort edging toward the way out over the roof and Harry towards his friends, who were now showing signs of stirring. It was as Harry's foot touched Hermione's outstretched leg that Voldemort turned to flee over the low wall and Harry sent a silent "Petrificus Totalus" at the dark wizard. On Voldemort's still incomplete manifestation it didn't work quite as well as it should, although his upper body could still move Voldemort's feet were clearly stuck to the floor. Then as the magic drawing Voldemort's body together completed its work the Dark Lord shook off some of his confusion and appeared for the first time to take in the features of the wizard before him.
"Well, well…." Voldemort's smile was most unpleasant, "your description does you an injustice Potter," Harry was dumbfounded, there was no way this Voldemort would ever have known who he was. This was a middle aged Voldemort without the sibilant voice and deformed appearance of the one that knew Harry, but he had recognised him. "You are much younger than I was led to believe, I had such an interesting end in store for you as well…," Voldemort searched for the name, "…. James isn't it? …Still one must never let an opportunity pass." He smiled again at Harry, "I imagine that the young lady is the mudblood I am told you have in tow," The wand in Voldemort's hand flicked down to point briefly at Hermione, who had pushed herself into a sitting position and was staring in horror at the wizard holding her wand. "Yes… an excellent opportunity to rid myself of yet another of Dumbledore's army."
The Dark Lord was very fast and the spell cast without the slightest sound, but Harry who had never taken his eyes off the figure standing before him saw the sight bunching of the muscles in his shoulders, which betrayed his intentions.
Harry's shield flashed into existence. The curse unleashed by Voldemort crashed into it and was deflected upwards, shattering the dome of the bell tower and blasting stone and brick in all directions. Harry hardened the front of his shield and used it like a battering ram to push Voldemort away over what remained of the low wall and out onto the slate ridge of the Great Hall roof. Voldemort's next point of attack was not Harry but the floor on which he was standing. The wooden planking dissolved into sawdust and Harry felt himself falling until a pair of hands grabbed the back of his coat and Hermione pulled him toward her and onto solid floor again.
"Thanks," he said in a breathless whisper, and quickly looked back to Voldemort to see him standing out on the ridge and staring out into the dark night to one side of them. He could not see what had caught the Dark Lord's eye but then as a bellow reverberated around the grounds of the school, Harry knew who it was. Voldemort had seen the initial flash of flame through the snow which had now started to fall, his thoughts were chaotic, he needed to find the rest of him to make himself whole, and now this dragon, was he a new enemy or an ally? He was undecided and unsure how to act but with a base animal cry came a second billow of flame aimed directly at him and the uncertainty was gone. Voldemort made to launch a spell at the oncoming dragon but instead he was struck by spell from Harry.
Harry had made the most of the momentary distraction Norbert had given him. Leaping over the wall he stood on the ridge of the hall roof and as Voldemort tried to bring down the dragon thought "Dispergere!" and put as much power as he could behind the spell.
The violet coloured beam hit Voldemort in the chest and the figure of the Dark Lord so recently formed from the vaporous soul hidden in the locket began to lose its cohesion. As his body began to come apart Voldemort screamed, instinctively he searched for the one place that would provide him with any safety, and he stretched out toward the locket that had ended up on the floor between Ron and Hermione. He screamed again in denial as Ron picked up the locket, placed it on the edge of the wall, and selecting a large stone from the rubble at his feet, smashed it to pieces. To accompany the sound of Ron's pounding, Voldemort raged and the whoosh of dragon wings almost went unheard, but the fire ball Norbert released roared through the air and hit the roof at the spot where Voldemort stood. The Dark Lord's weakening shade flew apart and Harry would have heard the screams fade to nothing as another piece of Tom Riddle's soul was destroyed, but the blast of hot air from the dragon's breath blew him off the precarious safety of the ridge, and he was too busy trying to stop himself from following Kreacher into the darkness below.
Harry knew there was nothing he could do, he could feel himself falling, and there was nothing between him and the ground but air. He heard Hermione scream, and then for him time seemed to slow down. In an almost detached way he saw the faces of his friends diminish as they strained over the parapet to get at him, but he was much too far away. He turned over in the air, and flashes of light from the castle windows passed by his eyes, as he spun. Then in the highest window of Gryffindor Tower he saw the shape of a person and then very clearly the face that went with that person and Harry smiled because he knew now that he was going to die and that someone he grieved for so much had come to claim him. Warmth spread through him, the warmth of approaching death, then the darkness of death claimed him and his last conscious thought was that he heard Hermione's voice calling to him………..
* * *
"Harry, Harry," there was sobbing and a wet cheek lay against his, "Oh Harry please wake up…." There was a short silence and Harry felt warmth and comfort begin to seep back into his body. "There must be something wrong, he wasn't hurt but he isn't coming round." Hermione sounded so worried, and he could hear her crying again.
"Don't fret, my dear," the voice was steady and reassuring, "Harry will be fine, sometimes when you think you are going to die, it almost happens. If I am not mistaken then even as we speak Harry can hear us, and I am very rarely mistaken."
"Harry, Harry," it was Hermione's voice again and this time there was a gentle shake to his shoulders to accompany the plea to wake up.
This time Harry obliged and opened his eyes to have his vision immediately blocked by Hermione's relieved and beaming face. She bestowed him with several kisses and not a few scolding words on how he had scared her half to death. She moved back a bit and Harry could see that the room he was in appeared to have a large number of mirrors attached to the walls and in each mirror was a face, his.
"Would I regret it if I asked where we were?" he said quietly to Hermione.
"At the very top of Gryffindor Tower," she said matter of factly, but Harry knew from the look in her eyes that she was hiding something.
He tried to sit up but she held his shoulders flat to the bed he was lying on. "What?" he said not trying to fight her.
"You fell from the roof," …why was she stating the obvious?
"I know," …he could play the game as well.
"Someone stopped you falling, and brought you here,"
"Ok," he said uncertainly, because he just remembered the figure in the window. "Who?" he asked.
"Ahh, that would be me," said that same steady and reassuring voice he had heard calm Hermione, and a second face swam into view.
Harry stared, and he stared, and he stared, and he still could not believe what he was seeing. His mouth suddenly became very dry and he thought he was going to pass out again. "But you're dead."
"Obviously not," said Albus Dumbledore.
"No it's not possible…Snape killed you, I saw him do it." Harry was not convinced this was not all some cruel trick.
"Professor Snape, Harry," said Dumbledore. "As I believe I have said before I trust Severus Snape and if what you see before you is true it would seem that I was correct to trust him."
"It's really him," Hermione said to reassure Harry, for she could still see the doubt in his mind.
Harry's senses whirled, there must be some way of confirming what he could see, and then it came to him. "Ok if it is you, what happened to Buckbeak?" said Harry to the man who shouldn't be there.
Hermione giggled, the face of the dead man smiled. "You and Miss Granger saved him and Sirius Black from death and worse by using a time turner." Dumbledore answered, he turned his smile to Hermione then back to Harry and his bright blue eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses. "Am I right?"
"Err… yes." said Harry
"I asked him exactly the same question Harry," said Hermione, "it was the only thing I knew that no one else but the Headmaster would know. It really is him." This time Harry believed her, and instead of feeling overjoyed, hurt and anger at the old man rose up in him. It was like the end of his fifth year all over again.
"Why?" the simple question was one of accusation, and Dumbledore's face took on an expression of sadness as he realised the state of mind Harry had slipped into.
"I could be glib and say that it seemed like a good idea at the time Harry," said Dumbledore looking anxiously at his young protégé, "but that would suggest that I left you alone with no thought for the future, and that would be untrue."
There was a quiet tap, tap on the door and Dumbledore opened it with a wave of his hand. Ron stepped into the room having returned from his errand, he was carrying Hermione's wand, and he looked very cold he walked straight to the fire warming himself for a moment then he passed the wand back to Hermione. He looked between Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore trying to gauge the atmosphere in the room, but it was not forthcoming.
"I found Kreacher," he said flatly, "I thought he might have saved himself by apparating or whatever it is that house elves do when they disappear, but perhaps he didn't have the time or the sense to do it." Ron shivered; his reaction was either at the thought of the way Kreacher had died or the cold. "Dobby said the he and the other house elves would deal with the body so I left them to it and brought Hermione her wand, found that in the courtyard." Ron's eyes moved uneasily from Harry to Dumbledore and back to Harry, but still there were no clues. "Err… feeling ok mate?"
"Thanks Ron." Harry replied, and then he turned his gaze back to the old Headmaster, "You were saying?"
"I did not know where or when it would happen," said Dumbledore, continuing his interrupted explanation, "but I knew Draco would have to confront me at some time. You see Harry that was the task Tom had set him, kill me, or die in the attempt." He shook his head at the folly of Draco for even considering heading down the path that led to darkness and destruction. "At the beginning of the school year Severus informed of Draco's task and that he had made an unbreakable vow with Narcissa to finish the job if young Malfoy was incapable." Harry's expression suggested that he would have had grave doubts over the potions master's intentions. "It was the only way he could have found out what they were intending to get Draco to do, Harry. So we made our plans accordingly, it was unfortunate that the attack on the school happened when it did." Dumbledore looked hard at Harry. "You will remember that after that abortive visit to the cave I was not feeling at my best, but that was when the attack came and we had to respond. Happily Draco could not do what he had promised, so Severus did it, but not without a great deal of persuasion. Right Harry?"
"If you say so," Harry replied morosely, unwilling to accept the correctness of the statement.
"So Professor Snape spoke the words of the killing curse, but he did not think them. Had he done so then I would have truly died. His spell pushed me over the balcony of the Astronomy Tower and on the way down I took a potion, and carefully landed myself in the way that I was found. A useful trick to appear dead; sometimes your enemies leave you alone after that."
"The draught of the living death!" said Hermione.
"Yes my dear, you are quite right as usual." complimented Dumbledore, "unfortunately in combination with other potions I had consumed that day the effects took a long time to completely disappear and left me very weak. I was pronounced dead and had been apparently entombed before I was sufficiently recovered. Of the staff only Professor McGonagall knew that the body in the white tomb was not mine, Fyrsil Ollivander, Fortean Fortescue and my brother Alberforth, presently posing as Langdon Long the barman at the Hogshead, were the others who helped in the deception,"
"That's all very well but you could have told me!" Harry said angrily.
"Yes I could, but you see Harry there were things you had to sort out on your own," Dumbledore looked pointedly at Ron and Hermione. "And to be quite honest I am still very tired, I would have been of little use in helping with your task. Even saving you this evening has stretched me to the limit, and you have really done quite well without me."
"I would have felt much better inside knowing you were alive," said Harry sadly, "The way things happened after you died left me with nothing to live for. I don't know what would have become of me if Hermione hadn't followed me that night."
"Ahh… but that is the important thing Harry, she did." and he tapped the side of his nose in a knowing way.
There was nothing he could do about it, Harry still felt cheated, Dumbledore had explained his actions, and sure in the circumstances what else could he have done? But he could have let Harry in on the secret, what harm would that have been. None that he could see, that was until Hermione had a chat with him.
"I know it's difficult to understand," she was sitting on the bed with him while Dumbledore and Ron were pretending to be in earnest discussion over on the other side of the large round room. "But everything that happens has a very particular effect on the events that follow it; muggles call it the butterfly effect." Harry knew a lecture was coming, which he would probably find difficult to follow, so in submission he smiled at his girlfriend, and let her continue. "If you had known that Dumbledore was alive, when you read Ron's letter you probably would have gone to him, instead of going to Little Winging and I may never have even tried to find you. Though it's more likely that knowing he was still alive you wouldn't have been at the Burrow in the first place and so Ron may never have written the letter at all."
Harry sighed; he could see now where this reasoning was leading. "What you mean is that you and I might never have realised what we mean to each other, and that everything that follows on from that would never have happened," he said finally resigned to the fact that the past was past and he should be grateful that it turned out the way it did.
"Yes," she confirmed, "that's exactly what I mean." And then she added in a very quiet voice, "Don't you think it was worth it?"
Harry smiled at the heartfelt question and in answer he took her face in his hands feeling the softness and warmth of her skin. He lightly brushed her lips with his finger tips and Hermione closed her eyes with the pleasure that the caress bestowed. Harry moved closer and replaced his fingers with his own lips slipping his hand around the back of her head he pulled her to him. Like that first kiss so long ago this was Harry's lifeline, the love he had for this girl surged through him and it blew away all the doubts and disappointments, he knew he would never have wanted it any other way.
On the other side of the room two pairs of eyes both blue watched the scene in one of the many mirrors before them. The older eyes twinkled with happiness for the couple, something he thought he would never have lived to see. The younger eyes were pleased as well; that relationship was something he should never have tried to prevent, to steal, or corrupt for himself. He quietly cursed his actions in his attempt to win Hermione's heart; he had done it before, and he knew he would probably do it again, because it was something he could never forgive himself for. The enormity of his folly began to choke him up and he steadied himself with the image of the blonde haired beauty that now Ron could call his own.
It was that final thought that made Ron give a little cough, just to clear his throat and his mind, but it broke the spell and the lovers sitting on the edge of the bed, grinned at each other, and parted.
* * *