I do not own Harry Potter

The Last Hope

Chapter One: An Unexpected Guest

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a place of many secrets. There were of course the more widely known secrets of the school, Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets and the Room of Requirements, but only three beings currently knew of the room pertaining to this story. Although hidden, the room itself was not the secret of importance, but what it held.

The Eastern Wing of Hogwarts was not as lively as it had once been. There used to be a class on manners and ballroom dancing, but those had been removed for more practical magical classes taught in other locations. It was now a lonely, gloomy part of the castle that not even the House Elves frequented.

Dusty classrooms and rusted pieces of armor were the only remembrance of a once more vibrant area of the school. If it were not for the hidden corridor located in its midst the Eastern Wing of Hogwarts would have been bitter at its lack of use. But it was the Eastern Wing that held Hogwarts' most important secret, and that of Albus Dumbledore.

It was hard to suspect the current Headmaster of such a prestigious school of harboring such a dark secret behind his grandfather like demeanor. Albus Dumbledore was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.

Albus Dumbledore could not see any change since the last time he had visited the corridor; in fact, he could remember well the placement of the table he was now stepping over for he had tripped on one of the three legs on his last visit, causing it to fall on its side. The table had already been missing a leg due to a weird accident involving chicken livers, fiber tablets, and mood rings, so he had ignored checking the small table for any kind of damage. The piece of furniture was one of the many broken items littering the floor of the corridor, but that was to be expected in the "storage shed" of Hogwarts.

Dilys Derwent had been on of the most celebrated heads of Hogwarts, known for being a great Headmistress and Healer. It was less known that she had been a pack rat and could not bear to part with anything that outlived its use at Hogwarts for it was a "valuable" part of history. In the twenty-seven years that she ruled at Hogwarts, no item was thrown away no matter what the condition. Instead, it was moved to a corridor in the Eastern Wing that no one was really using. If anyone had asked Julius Jenning, the resident Arithmancy teacher at the time, they would know that this had not been an ideal location to move all the junk for that is where his living quarters were located. It was a fact that no one asked Jenning, for he was also not well liked.

Throughout the years the "storage shed" corridor had been lost, for no Headmaster or Headmistress wanted to take the time to clear out the space, and instead, mysteriously forgot its location. And yet here was Dumbledore making his way towards one of the many portraits in the hall. Like all of the other items in the corridor, the placement of the portraits in the "storage shed" was due to some harm befalling the contents. One portrait, however, was dumped into he corridor due to it being a painting of Gladys Gudgeon, a rival of sorts to the late Headmistress Derwent. It was a slight lapse of judgment on the Headmistress's part, for the figure could still move through other frames and was never present in her own. It was this empty frame, the destination of Albus Dumbledore, which held the key to a most dangerous secret.

"Are you sure we are even in the right location? I highly doubt we could find anything in this mess, let alone this so called last resort." The man who had spoken sneered at the clutter and then at his companion. "You must have read the directions wrong, there is nothing here of any value."

The man had greasy back hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. Beside him stood a severe looking woman, who wore square glasses and kept her black hair drawn into a tight bun. She gave the man a disapproving look, on that was usually reserved for unruly students, before moving on down the corridor.

"I have been reading maps before you were even born, I should think I would know where I am going," the woman retorted. Professors McGonagall and Snape were desperate, causing the lack of tolerance in their already short tempers. The problem was the two were uncertain of what exactly they were desperate for. The note had limited information, only giving the location, four numbers, and a hastily scrawled, "use only in the most serious of emergencies."

The note had led them to an abandoned corridor in the Eastern Wing of the castle, but after finding the place they were at a loss of what to do. If there ever was an emergence, this would be ranked number one, for the wizarding world was at war and Albus Dumbledore dead. The fall of the iconic hero had the "light" side in a state of panic. They had recently gained hope after discovering a secret file they had found just that day, two months after Dumbledore's death. It had taken time to sort through the dead man's office but finally there was a beacon of light in their darkest hour. But the light was diminishing in the hall full of junk. What use was it to them?

"I believe the portrait is what we are looking for; the one that is currently vacant," said Snape, walking around the clutter in disgust.

McGonagall pursed her lips irritated. "How are we to get through if there is no one to hear the password," she asked looking for another frame the missing figure might have wandered.

"I don't believe we have to speak the numbers, it looks more like a key to a lock of some sort," Snape replied, his fingers tracing the surface of the empty portrait in search of a hidden switch.

After his third run over reveled nothing Snape lost his patience, throwing the frame to the floor. "It might as well join the other useless junk in this hellhole," he exclaimed.

Smiling despite herself, McGonagall quickly punched in the four digit code in the now visible key pad. Nothing. After another five minutes she almost wished to throw the discarded frame herself.

The condescending look from her colleague was expected but annoying nonetheless. She didn't understand why Dumbledore would leave them with such useless information.

"Let me try," was all the warning McGonagall received before being forcefully pushed aside.

"No manners," she murmured, fixing her slightly askew hat. Her muttering was cut short as a door suddenly materialized out of the wall.

"What did you do?" she asked, staring at Snape in astonishment.

I punched in the code," he replied scathingly, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "and then I pressed enter."

Pushing her irritation to the back of her mind, McGonagall helped her colleague check the door for any sign of hexes or spells. When they could not detect any intention of harm, McGonagall hesitantly stepped back. This was their last hope to winning the war. With Albus gone there wasn't much they could do to hold back the Dark Lord's attacks.

"What kind of help do you think he left us," she asked the other Professor hesitantly. "It could be really dangerous, the note said to use only in emergencies."

"There is only one way to find out," Snape replied as he turned the handle and walked into the room. It was not what they had imagined in their wildest dreams. Actually quite the opposite of anything wild.

The room was large and perfectly square in shape, but sparingly furnished. There was a couch on the far left wall, and a table with a chair on the right. A more close inspection showed the table to be a game of chess, the pieces still in play. The chair was askew on the floor as if someone left in a hurry.

"I don't understand," McGonagall murmured, "how can this room be of any help?"

It was if the weight of the world was crashing down on them. It was foolish how they had thought to find some ancient book or spell that would be of use to them at this stage. If that were true, why wouldn't have Dumbledore already use this means to get rid of Voldemort.

"How could I not have thought of this before," Snape suddenly exclaimed, his eyes bright and wild, "We were so desperate for a weapon to help us defeat the Dark Lord, we did not think of all the meanings the note could have."

"But it's pretty straightforward," McGonagall replied, "use in case of an emergency."

Snape gave the witch an exasperated look before explaining, "This is a safe room. There is no secret weapon; this is only a place to hide."

"But, but, this can't-"

"Can't what woman? Be serious. What did you expect? Some kind of saving grace from a mysterious note? I can't believe we were so foolish." Snape spun on his heel and exited the room, his robes billowing in their usual fashion.

McGonagall looked around the room in despair. "Why would Dumbledore have kept this secret? Why wouldn't he tell the staff if their was some sort of safe room. This makes no sense," she thought plopping down on the couch.

The witch sat for a long moment contemplating the fate of the wizarding world. She knew deep in her heart that they had little hope in winning. McGonagall also knew that this had been a long shot, but she had known that there would be something here that would help. This couldn't be all Dumbledore had left them.

After what seemed to be hours of staring at nothing, McGonagall was startled out of her thoughts by a sound, a squeak followed by running water.

Following the noise to the other side of the room McGonagall put her ear against the wall but quickly drew back. The wall had been cool to the touch and far smoother than expected. Quickly making her way to an adjoining wall she placed her hand against it, felling the difference in material.

Turning back to where she heard the noise, a simple Finite at the curious wall disappeared to reveal more space. Upon further inspection the witch realized that the wall had not disappeared but instead, was made out of glass. On the other side looked to be a simple bedroom. A small bed, a bookcase with three tattered books, a small set of drawers, and a chair were all the room contained. The only curious thing about the space was a closed door by the bookcase.

Whatever the door led to must be what Dumbledore's secret message referred to. But how to get past the glass wall. Spell after spell had no affect on the barrier but McGonagall would not give up. She only wished Severus had stayed to help her, he might have been able to figure out how to get past this obstacle. As she was about to cast another blasting hex at the wall the mysterious door opened.

Startled, McGonagall leaped back, not expecting a young man to walk through, a very naked young man. The male had not yet noticed her presence, making his way to the set of drawers and taking out a set of clothes. It wasn't until he was pulling a shirt over his head that he realized he had company.

"You're not Dumbledore," the young man said and quickly made his way to the glass wall to get a good look at the witch, forgoing the rest of his attire.

McGonagall could not think past what the young man was doing here. It took a few moments before she had speech under control, and only because she realized she was staring at a half naked boy. "Put on some clothes right now!" She commanded, turning around quickly to hide her embarrassment.

The boy gave her an astonished look before glancing down at his naked lower half, and chuckled before pulling on the rest of his clothes.

"You can turn around now. I'm decent. Sorry, I just wasn't expecting company, especially that of the fairer sex."

Now that she had gotten over her shock McGonagall was able to observe the features of her companion. The young man looked to be no older than sixteen, with wild ebony locks that looked messy even weighed down by water, and the most startling green eyes. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she could not place where she had seen the boy before.

"How did you find this place," the words were out of her mouth before she really knew what she was saying, but she was curious. If this place was so secret, how did the boy come to be here.

The boy looked confused, before giving her a sharp look. "What happened to Dumbledore?" was not what she was expecting him to ask.

"Answer me," the young man demanded, "What happened to Dumbledore? He obviously didn't tell you what to expect here."

McGonagall could not comprehend what the boy was getting at. How could he not know of Dumbledore's death? "He's dead," she replied. There was no use beating around the bush.

The boy didn't look upset at the news, in fact he looked quite amused. He looked as if he was trying to hold in his laughter.

"It's about time the old man kicked the bucket," he was finally able to choke out before breaking into a fit of laughter.

McGonagall had never been more angry in her life. How dare this boy take pleasure in the death of the greatest wizard who ever lived. It had been an honor to fight beside Dumbledore; a man who had stood up for what he believed.

She was quickly distracted when she glanced at the room the boy had just come from. No longer closed, she could see that the room was only a small bathroom.

If the room had no other entrance how did the boy find this place? McGonagall pushed her anger to the back of her thoughts in the face of this puzzling situation.

"How did you get here?" she suddenly asked.

"I have been here for quite some time," the boy answered, having gotten over his laughing fit, "Dumbledore has been my only companion for the last thirty-four years."

"Surely you are joking. You look to be no older than sixteen, please spare me your lies. How did you get into that room?" McGonagall was not in the mood for this boy's stories. It was bad enough that he had insulted her mentor, but to lie to her face?

The boy only shrugged. "I'm telling you the truth, Madame. I've been here for thirty-four years with only a few visits from Dumbledore periodically. I thought something might have happened to him since he missed the last one. It was getting on my nerves, since I have but three books to entertain myself. As for my age, well I only know that I cannot grow older while in this room. It seems Dumbledore felt a small pang of guilt so he allowed me my youth."

McGonagall didn't know what to say. This was impossible. If there had been a spell for eternal youth, it would be on the market. She knew many who would kill for such a spell. "If what you say is true, which I don't believe for a second it is, why would Dumbledore feel any remorse? I know it must be hard to be stuck in a place like this but you said yourself that Dumbledore visited. He must of tried to get you out."

The boy once again gave her an amused look before bursting into hysterical laughter. "Get me out? Get me out? Madame you misunderstand the situation! Dumbledore was never here to help me, he was making sure that I couldn't escape."

"What are you implying?" McGonagall asked, "Surely you don't mean-"

"Yes, Dumbledore was the one who imprisoned me here."

AN: Well that is it for chapter one. Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading :D

The descriptions of Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall were all taken out of the first book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone.