The Shoebox
by Jardyn39
Chapter 13 - I'm Not Supposed To Know, Actually
Harry, Hermione and Neville all started blocking hexes and firing back the moment the Enforcers charged forward, all wildly firing spells.
Harry's first target was Hemlock but he had dived for cover and escaped his view in all the confusion.
It was perhaps ironic that the one thing Harry had continually drummed into his friends for these situations was something he himself found almost impossible to do himself.
"Whatever happens, you must fight back-to-back. That way everyone is protecting each other, so at all times make sure you are aware of where everyone is," he had said. "Don't worry about protecting your own back."
He'd lost count of the times he'd said this in various forms, but it betrayed his one great fear: Harry had no fear for himself but in the months leading to the final battle he had become inwardly terrified that his friends would be hurt. It seemed at the time that he could bear almost anything else.
Harry was about to shout a reminder for the other two to watch their position when he realised he was now several feet away from their starting point. As usual, he had jumped around to achieve the most advantageous firing position without even thinking about his own advice.
Hermione and Neville, though, were right there protecting his back. They had moved with him and had even kept pace as he circled around to give those headed for the ramp a little incentive.
Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Harry twisted around and fired right between Neville and Hermione to blast an attacker off his feet.
"Harry!" cried Hermione in annoyance. "This is our side. Get back to your own targets."
Harry grinned but didn't have time for a smart response as a heavy levitated table flew towards them.
"Reducto!"
The table exploded into dust and Harry immediately levitated the heavy metal chair next to the wizard who had caused the table to be thrown at them.
"Not very sporting," commented Neville.
Harry wasn't sure if Neville was referring to the table or what he was about to do with the chair. Deciding that Neville was probably right if he meant the chair, Harry dropped it and reverted back to stunning spells.
It soon became clear that their sheer number was their attackers' biggest disadvantage. Hardly any of them had clear shots whereas the three of them could shoot without risk of accidentally hitting each other.
Hermione was firing quickly but still taking careful aim at each target, something that for some reason had always irritated Harry. He knew she was capable of much more powerful defensive spells but always insisted that her opponents had a fighting chance.
Neville's aim had been much improved lately and he managed to keep the attackers back.
Harry hadn't made much of an impression on Neville's preferred duelling style either. He would stand there, plugging away until either his opponents were incapacitated or he was. Thanks to his much improved aim, Neville won far more duels than he lost these days.
Harry had become Neville's most frequent practise partner when it became clear he wasn't prepared to fire at Ginny in case he accidentally hurt her. It had been some time since they last practised, but Harry was pleased to see Neville had lost none of his determination.
Harry, though, was eager to end this fight.
He took down great swathes of robed enforcers with each slash of his wand. This seemed to be the deciding factor amongst those attackers that abandoned the fight and ran for the ramp.
Even so, it took a surprisingly short amount of time for just the three of them to disarm the remaining three dozen or so enforcers who remained to fight. Hemlock managed to be amongst those to get away.
"I don't understand it," said Neville. "They're even worse at fighting than me."
Harry knew this was an exaggeration. Neville was pretty good at duelling these days, but there was no denying how poor their opposition had been.
"That's the problem when you only recruit from zealots," observed Hermione as she finishing binding one of the Enforcers.
"Yes," agreed Harry. "I bet they didn't have anyone to help train them either. They had to rely on overwhelming numbers and scare tactics."
"No, they must have something more," said Hermione.
"Come on, let's find Natasha," ordered Harry, not really listening to her.
Harry kicked upon a pair of doors at the far end of the open area and charged through ahead of the others.
The moment he crossed the invisible jinx line he knew something was wrong. A deep chill went right through him and a wave of nausea hit him.
"Stop!" yelled Harry in warning to the others as he collapsed to his knees. "Don't come past the threshold!"
"What is it?"
"You were right, Hermione," he said, panting. "I felt the hex kick in as I came through."
Assuming the worst, Harry pointed his wand at a wall poster and tried to fire a stunner at it.
"Argh!" he cried out as a sharp pain shot up his arm. "I thought so. Can't do magic now. Blast! It had to be now!"
"Come back, Harry. Please."
"No," gasped Harry, pushing himself up. His eyes watering with the pain. "Damage done now. I'll try and find Natasha. See if you can anyone else, but be careful."
He turned and staggered down the corridor, bumping off the walls in his haste. He flew through another doorway and slammed into a glass partition. Harry's vision seemed to be dimming and he could see random flashes of light before his eyes.
Then he began to take in the scene before him.
The brightly-lit room on the other side of the partition held three people. Two white coated men were standing before Natasha who was bound to a heavy wooden chair with heavy leather straps.
She was shouting and crying but Harry couldn't hear a thing.
One of the men held a clipboard and appeared to be mouthing questions to her. Natasha swore back at them as she struggled to release herself from the bindings.
The one with the clipboard merely made a mark and then nodded impassively to the other. Harry didn't see what he did but Natasha screamed and seemed to go rigid with pain. The straps holding her prevented her moving as she convulsed.
Harry hammered on the glass and looked around for something to throw. He assumed the glass was both one-way and sound-proof since neither of the men inside reacted at all. They just waited patiently for Natasha to finish screaming.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to use magic, Harry desperately ran to find another way in. He followed the corridor and turned left and then left again. Finally, there was a door.
Harry grabbed the handle and thrust the door open. Charging through, he came skidding to a halt as two dull thuds reached his ears.
He walked over to the chair. Natasha's eyes were blazing with anger.
"It's over, Natasha," Harry attempted to say as gently as possible, his heart still pounding in his chest. "Let them down."
It was a moment before Natasha's eyes flickered and the bloody remains of her captors fell heavily to the floor.
Harry unwrapped the cords that held her wrists and unbuckled the leg straps with shaking hands before walking over to inspect the bodies.
All he could feel was anger that they had escaped punishment for what they had done.
The one with the clipboard was still breathing, although it didn't look like he would live for long. The other one was dead, and half of his remains were still buried in the masonry.
Harry turned and asked, "Can you walk?"
Natasha tried to get up but collapsed. Harry caught her just before she hit the hard floor. He scooped her up in his arms and headed for the door.
*
When Harry crossed the hexed doorway again, Hermione and Harry had been joined by Kingsley and Professor McGonagall. Together they were helping to free others from the cells and which seemed to include a significant number of Wizengamot members.
McGonagall rushed over to them and Natasha burst into tears.
"Take her back to school, Minerva," said Kingsley. "We'll clear up here. I'll be along later."
A moment later, or so it seemed, they were gone.
Kingsley marched over to Harry.
"You idiot," he said at once. "What have I always told you about watching out for hidden hexes?"
Harry nodded. It was true; in his haste to find Natasha he'd forgotten all of his Auror training.
"There are a couple of bodies back there. Well, one is dead and the other won't last long."
"Show me," said Kingsley seriously, turning for the door.
"Wait!"
"Unlike you, Harry, I took the precaution of getting Minerva to take down all the hexes."
"Oh, right," said Harry, following him. Hermione hurried to join them.
"You okay, Harry?"
Harry nodded although his wrists now ached from his hammering so hard on the glass partition.
"No-one else seems to have been hurt," she continued. "There were anti-Apparition wards around the cells but it seems they didn't have time to interrogate them."
Kingsley pushed open the doors in front of the glass partition and surveyed the scene.
"What happened?" asked Hermione, seeing the blood on the far wall. "Oh, my!" she breathed, seeing the chair.
Kingsley turned, frowning slightly.
"Well, it looks like we'll never really know what happened," said Kingsley.
"Why?"
"Hermione," explained Harry. "That's Auror-speak for Shut up and you might just stay out of prison."
"Don't be ridiculous. We can't cover this up. I'm not for a moment suggesting you had any choice, Harry, but it would be wrong just to sweep it under the carpet."
Kingsley coughed softly.
"Harry didn't do this," he said gently.
"He? You didn't?"
"She resisted for as long as she could," said Harry, still looking at the chair. "I think they were trying to provoke her, only they had no idea how advanced her skills were. How could they have? If I'd been quicker, she wouldn't have needed to do it."
"What were they using?" asked Kingsley with clinical detachment.
"I couldn't hear the incantation, but from her reaction it looked like the Cruciatus Curse."
"Poor kid. So, what do you think happened here, Hermione?"
"We may never know, Kingsley," said Hermione shakily.
*
"Your attention please," said Professor McGonagall's magically amplified voice throughout the castle. "I am delighted to inform you that Natasha Royce has been rescued and is now recovering in the Hospital Wing."
Professor McGonagall paused as loud cheers rang out.
"Natasha has been through a terrible ordeal but will make a full recovery under Madam Pomfrey's care. Natasha will inform us when she is ready to receive visitors but I'm sure any goodwill messages you wish to send her in the meantime will aide her recovery.
"Finally, I would take this opportunity of advising any interested party present in the castle that Professor Potter will be reading the first of the three required notices of eviction in the entrance hall this evening. Any ghost or spirit without the appropriate haunting licence should attend so that any unpleasantness they feel during the eviction won't be, um, unexpected.
"Thank you for your attention."
Professor McGonagall tapped the silver instrument with her wand and allowed herself to relax back into her chair.
"You can't call him Professor now, Minerva," said Phineas Nigellus slyly. "He can't do magic. What's the use of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who can't so much as stun-"
"A portrait?" suggested Harry, pointing his wand directly at the painting. Phineas vanished behind his frame at once, clearly not wishing to take the chance that Harry might be able to produce some magic.
"There must be something we can do," complained Hermione. "Harry, are you really sure you can't do anything? Natasha wasn't affected like this, was she?"
"No, but I'm running on empty, I'm afraid. Still, at least I'll be in good company for the evening classes."
"Harry, why aren't you angry about this?"
"I suppose," began Harry, but stopped when the office door opened and Julia came in.
"We've had an idea," she announced. "It's kill or cure, actually."
Harry knew full well that if he had been hit with the same thing Ron and the others, then there was little chance of a speedy recovery of his magical powers. Still, he reasoned, he ought to show a little willing.
"Well, I quite like the sound of the cure part," said Harry with a smile. "What does this idea involve?"
"I can't tell you. Harry, please report to the Great Hall at eight o'clock; but not a minute before."
"Can I do my eviction notice first? I was looking forward to that."
"Oh, alright. Do that at eight, and then come alone into the hall. Alone."
"Why do we have to wait that long?" asked Hermione.
"This is Moody's idea and he wanted Lupin to oversee the, um, project. Professor? We could use your help too; only if you do agree you won't be able to contact Harry until it is over."
"Is that okay with you, Harry?" McGonagall asked.
"Um, sure."
"Good. I suggest you and Hermione retire to your apartment until this evening."
*
Harry stood in the middle of the deserted entrance lobby and cleared his throat. He felt a little silly, but Muldoon had said it was worth trying.
"Further to the International Accord on Spirit and Ghost Hauntings 1605, as amended 1895, I hereby give the required Notice of Eviction in accordance with Paragraph 3(b)."
Harry looked around before continuing.
"Harry?"
"Oh. Hi, Nick," said Harry. He was at that point feeling very self-conscious and was very glad of the opportunity to stop.
"May I ask what you are doing?"
"Well, I suspect we've got an unlicensed ghost in the castle."
"Peeves?"
"No, as a poltergeist he falls outside the Accord, apparently. Is anything the matter, Nick? You look a little worried."
"Well, to be honest, I'm a little concerned about the prospect of an eviction."
"There's really no need to be worried, Nick. I'm assured that any ghost authorised to reside at Hogwarts will be entirely unaffected."
"Oh, good."
Harry smiled at him.
"Um, perhaps I should carry on? Where was I?" muttered Harry, trying to find his place again. "Ah, here we are. In accordance with-"
"Harry?"
"Yes, Nick?"
"What if, hypothetically speaking, a resident ghost didn't have a Ministry licence?"
"Well, I can't say how it would feel, but it does sound rather unpleasant. I'm assured the disfigurement and pain goes away quite quickly though. It's good that you are concerned on behalf of our unknown tenant, Nick, but don't feel too sorry for them."
"Concerned on their behalf," repeated Nick absently. "Yes, Harry, of course. Um, what if the ghost were to be found before the eviction?"
"Oh, there'd be no need to go through with it. I've no problem with a new ghost in the castle provided Professor McGonagall and the Ghosts' Council give their approval."
"Well, thank you, Harry. You've reassured me. I'll be off now."
"See you, Nick," said Harry, returning to his text. "In accordance with-"
"Oh, put a sock in it, Potter. Did you really think I'd fall for such a ridiculous ruse? I've known for years that the Bloody Baron never got a licence; mainly because they were too scared to ask him."
"Draco, so it was you. Why did you come back?"
"I didn't want to go on, of course. The prospect of my father waiting for me was quite enough to put me off the afterlife."
"I meant, why come back to Hogwarts?"
"I heard you were teaching and I needed a laugh. I always said the standard of teaching was poor around here."
"Are you always invisible or can you be seen yet? I know it takes a while."
"I come and go."
"Draco, why did you tell Mark Stannard about the Arch in the Forbidden Forest?"
"So what? He kept disturbing me so I told him to get him out of the dungeons. I was rather pleased with myself for that, Potter. After all, if he gets himself eaten in there, you might get the blame."
"Draco, do you remember what it was like in the forest?"
"I died in there, remember?"
"I was thinking what it felt like when we were nearer Mark's age. You were terrified of that forest."
"So what? I'm past caring."
"I'll tell you what, shall I? It's simple. Professor McGonagall won't let you stay unless you are prepared to care."
"What? I'm supposed to start liking you, just because you lived and killed my murderous father?"
"No, Draco. I couldn't care less what you think of me. You're supposed to care for the students around here. All of the ghosts do. Even the Bloody Baron helps keep this place safe."
"Maybe," admitted Draco.
"Unfortunately, sending a student into the forest isn't a good way of showing you care."
"He's only a Hufflepuff."
"He's a Hufflepuff who's never been beaten in a duel."
Draco snorted. "Yeah, I saw. I recon he could beat you, you know?"
"Not if the forest takes him, Draco. Can you tell me why Mark is so obsessed with the Arch?"
"Maybe he wants to push you through it. Perhaps you should start giving him better essay marks."
Harry rolled his eyes and looked at his watch.
"Listen Draco, I don't have time now, but sometime soon we are going to have a very serious talk about all this."
"I look forward to it, although I can't see what you're all bothered about."
"That arch is incredibly dangerous, Malfoy. Even you should appreciate that."
"You mean, it actually exists?"
"Yes, it exists and yes, it is in the forest."
"So I was right, after all!" said Draco, sounding quite delighted. "And to think you didn't believe me when I told you about it. Of course, that wasn't what I told my father. I said you reacted like it was the last piece of the puzzle that you'd been looking for."
"He took that well, did he?"
"Um, well, murdering me wasn't something I'd seriously considered, I admit. It seemed such an over-reaction."
"Your other information was useful, though," Harry admitted. "We would never have been able to defeat Voldemort without your help."
"I can't imagine how that came to be true," replied Draco. "Hang on, was it something to do with all that junk?"
"Something like that, yes," agreed Harry, thinking back to the hoard of items that Draco's Aunt Bellatrix had hidden away. "Anyway, while you're here please make an effort to make sure none of the students gets into trouble."
"Yeah, like that's going to happen. Ever the optimist, eh?"
"I need to," Harry began to say, but realised he had absolutely no idea what he was about to do.
Perhaps Draco realised this because for a fleeting moment Harry caught sight of a Malfoy shaped ghost wearing a wide sneer.
"Do you know what they're planning in there?"
"I'm not supposed to know, actually."
"Good. I'll tell you then, although it is quite pathetic really. Moody's been practising this really complicated spell all afternoon. Unfortunately, he's only got it right the once. Lupin's been putting fires out on Potter shaped manikins. They've gone through dozens!
"McGonagall hasn't been much help, either. She's been chasing that Carmen kid around all day. She's tried everything to get into the Hospital Wing to see her friend. She mentioned an external attempt was next."
Harry went over to the great doors and knocked loudly. He took a deep breath and was about to enter when he heard shouting from outside.
"CARMEN CALIDUS! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
"It's okay, Professor," came a distant reply.
"Come down here at once! Have you any idea how dangerous that is?"
"We're fine."
"Down, I say! NOW!"
Harry walked out into the cool evening air. At the bottom of the steps, Professor McGonagall was looking up.
He looked up and turned. Harry's stomach gave a jolt as he realised they were over fifty feet up.
"Carmen, be careful," urged a boy's voice from high above.
Carmen was giggling, standing atop a high scaffold which had a rolled up fabric.
"Here goes," Carmen said mischievously, and she kicked the wide roll of canvas off the edge.
Harry looked on in horror as Carmen slipped. Her feet went from under her and the back of her head smashed into a hard wooden plank.
Carmen began to fall limply, but the scaffold had shuddered violently and two more bodies were thrown off the scaffold.
The banner continued to unfurl as they fell.
"Get…"
"NO!" shouted Harry, instinctively pointing his wand up even though he had no hope of performing magic now.
"… Well …"
A sharp pain shot down his arm once again, only this time Harry did not stop trying to produce the levitation spells. There was simply no time.
"… Soon! …"
Red flames burst from his arm and soon his entire body was engulfed. The heat was almost unbearable, but the thought that three lives were about to be lost was even more painful.
With every fibre of his being, Harry willed the spell to work.
Flames gently licked his face making it difficult to see the still falling figures.
A lens from his glasses cracked with a pop from the heat and Harry collapsed to his knees on the hard stone. Perhaps he had imagined it, but he thought he'd heard three dull thuds hitting the ground.
At last he gave in and tried to scream, but there was no air in his lungs.
The stone was oddly cool against his face as the pain inside him began to recede.
"Harry! Harry!"
Then darkness claimed him.
*
When Harry woke up he found himself in darkness. He looked up at the high ceiling and then the dark outlines of privacy screens. He was in the Hospital Wing, he thought dully.
He looked up again, squinting slightly. Madam Pomfrey usually gave him a bed next to a window, which meant he was probably on the other side of the ward.
Harry pulled his arms out from under the warm sheets and fumbled for his glasses.
He put them on and relaxed back into his pillow.
The ceiling light fittings and tops of the screens were now in focus but he could see little more now than without his glasses.
Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember how he came to be in the Hospital.
He remembered saying goodbye to Hermione and coming down the stairs. He'd begun to recite the eviction notice and then Nick came long. Malfoy had appeared, well almost, and he'd gone into the Great Hall.
No, he corrected himself slowly. He hadn't actually gone in.
He remembered going outside and seeing Professor McGonagall. Then he'd looked up, following her gaze.
Harry opened his eyes with a start. Blind panic engulfed him as he threw off his sheets and jumped out of bed. He stumbled forwards and fell through a gap in the screens.
His foot made contact with something hard and cold. A moment later the table over the end of his bed had tipped backwards and a jug and dish flew up into the air.
The crash echoed around the Hospital Wing and the lanterns grew brighter.
Madam Pomfrey bustled from her office wearing her dressing gown and a frown.
"Potter, what are you doing?"
Harry didn't hear a word that made sense to him. His head was filled with a loud buzz as he desperately looked around.
"Where are they?" he demanded, sounding stricken. "Where are the bodies?"
"Bodies?"
Harry lunged forward and grabbed both her arms.
"WHERE?" he shouted angrily.
He felt an electric shock through both hands and he let go. Falling, he just caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall pocketing her wand and marching towards him.
"Poppy, are you alright?"
"I'm fine. I haven't had a chance to speak to him; to explain."
"Please, just go. I will deal with this."
"I want to see them. Now," said Harry.
"Yes, Harry, of course you do. Unfortunately, it is very late."
"What does that matter?" he replied. "Where are they?"
"They are asleep in their dormitories, Harry," she said gently. "You slowed the decent of all three. I promise you that they are fine."
Harry stared at her.
"You're lying."
"I beg your pardon?" she replied imperiously. "Potter, my tolerance can only be stretched so far, you know."
Harry stepped forward, anger suddenly coursing through him. Why would she lie to him like this? Barely visible blue flames ignited at his arms and ran up his pyjama sleeves. The pain fuelled his anger.
McGonagall stood there rigid with shocked wide-open eyes.
The pain seemed to cleanse him and Harry's mind began to clear. He stepped forward again, but suddenly felt like his whole body had just been immersed in ice cold water.
Harry staggered back in shock, the flames now gone and leaving him with burnt cotton sleeves.
Harry swore loudly.
"Language, Potter," said Draco, still quite invisible. "I'm sorry but it really isn't in my interests to allow you to hurt the Professor just now."
"Draco?" said McGonagall. "So, it is true."
"Mm. Well, Professor, it looks like you're continuing the tradition of employing insane Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers after all."
"That will do, Draco. We will discuss your future here at another time. In the meantime, will you please go and fetch Miss Granger."
"Oh, she'll be along in a minute, Professor. She finished her bath twenty minutes ago."
"Draco!" shouted Harry as soon as he realised what he had said, but the ghost had gone.
"I'm clearly going to have to explain very carefully the terms of letting Draco stay," said McGonagall as the hospital doors swung open behind her.
Hermione rushed in as soon as she saw Harry out of bed.
"Harry! What happened? Your pyjamas are all burnt."
"Hermione, will you please explain to Harry what happened. I'm afraid he doesn't believe me. If you'll excuse me, I'll see if Poppy is still awake. I could do with a cup of tea."
Hermione reached up and gently touched his cheek, her face full of concern.
"She tried to tell me they weren't dead, Hermione."
"Oh, Harry," she breathed, wrapping her arms up around his neck. "I'll tell you what I can. If you still want to see them after, then we'll go together. Right?"
Harry nodded and held her closer.
"Moody and Lupin had been practising in the Great Hall all afternoon. From what they told me, Moody was convinced that the key to breaking the hex was in what Natasha told them about what happened to her."
"They shouldn't have disturbed her," complained Harry.
"They didn't. Kingsley asked to be present when Natasha explained to David and Kathryn what happened. It wasn't an interrogation or anything. Kathryn said Kingsley was very understanding, but he needed to know how she did it."
Harry nodded again.
"You knew how, though, didn't you, Harry? She didn't suddenly lash out. It was quite the reverse. She'd been struggling to hold back the magic. It was only when she'd been pushed so far that she gave in and unleashed the magical power within her."
"I should have guessed," said Harry in a strained voice. "David did the same thing. I'm sure he still struggles with it sometimes. That's why he hates crowds so much."
"Let's stick with Moody's idea for now, shall we? He reasoned that Natasha must have been hexed in the same way you were. Even if she had a wand, she would never have been able to defend herself; yet she managed to break the spell upon her. I know she didn't do it on purpose, but when pushed to her limit she produced such a powerful reaction that the spell broke."
Harry frowned.
"But I didn't get to see Moody. He never performed anything on me."
"Harry, you needed to be pushed to your limit. If you're really honest, can you think of anything worse than seeing three children fall to their deaths?"
Harry screwed up his eyes and shook his head.
"It worked, Harry. Somehow you produced levitation charms in time to prevent them coming to harm. Even if you hadn't managed it, there were four of us ready to assist and they were all magically tied to the scaffolding.
"There were only two complications, in the event.
"One was the charms Carmen used to tie them to the scaffold. Your charm was rather too powerful and for a while they were stuck in mid-air. Professor McGonagall and Julia got them down safely after a few minutes."
"They're alive."
"Yes, darling," said Hermione, kissing him lightly. "The second complication was you. You were practically a fireball when you collapsed. Carmen's Get-Well-Soon banner for Natasha was burnt to ashes."
Harry said nothing.
"I had hoped that you'd got it out of your system, but judging from the state of you I'd say that was a premature hope. So, what about you, Harry?"
"Me?"
"How much are you struggling to keep bottled up inside?"
"It isn't the same, Hermione. David will tell you the same thing. Ask him, if you want."
"I intend to."
"Hermione, did you find any more significant dates?"
"Harry, can't we deal with one thing at a time? Mark is being constantly watched. He's safe for tonight."
"No, that isn't it. You see, the Arch is calling me. The flames are a sign, I think."
Hermione let him go and looked at him seriously.
"Look," said Harry. "How about we go back to our rooms to talk about this?"
-
AN: Sorry, but unfortunately there will be a short delay before the next post as I'm going away for the weekend. Realistically, I'll probably post Chapter 14, "The Spell Part Is A Lie, Harry," on Monday.