The Vanishing Cabinet

Life, it seemed to Harry, could not get any worse. He sat in the Gryffindor common room with a crimson armchair dragged over to one of the tall mahogany windows that had the best view of the quidditch pitch. It was his fifth year at Hogwarts, and almost everything he liked about the place had been taken away from him.

He watched quietly as Ron flew about the pitch, throwing the quaffle back and forth with Angelina. The Gryffindor qudditch team were practicing, and without Harry who had received a lifelong ban. It seemed with every catch the gloom in Harry's stomach increased. He felt near sick, the thought of his firebolt in the stubby hands of Umbridge.

Hermione dragged a chair over to join Harry, her soft look of pity made him feel ever worse. He wanted to snap at her to go away, but he restrained himself. Instead he tried to force what he imagined was a caring, thankful smile that said 'I appreciate you being my friend'.

"Harry, are you unwell or something?" Hermione asked suddenly. "Your face looks weird and contorted."

Harry let his smile drop with a short laugh. "I'm fine Hermione."

He let his thoughts return to the letter he was trying to write to Sirius. He hadn't heard from him in a while, and he imagined he was still sulking after the last incident at the fireplace. Hermione annoyingly peered over his shoulder. Eventually Harry turned to glare at her.

"Do you mind?"

She shrugged. "When is your detention tonight?"

Harry's stomach gloom grew some more. He had detention tonight with Snape for having defending himself in potions. What a barrel of laughs that was going to be. And even less time to complete his homework as well.

"8pm," Harry muttered.

As he spoke the portrait hole swung open and Ron entered, covered in mud. He tramped over to where the other two sat and flung himself onto another armchair without speaking. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, wordlessly agreeing not to ask how practice had gone.

At ten to eight Harry gloomily left Hermione and Ron who were completing their Charms homework. He then walked towards the dungeons as slowly as humanely possible. As he walked Harry passed a group of 4th year Ravenclaw girls who tittered and whispered, glancing back at him. Harry quickened his pace slightly, frowning. He arrived at Snape's office at 8.01pm.

"You're late Potter."

Harry wasn't wearing a watch and he frowned, looking around for the time. Snape sneered at him, his mouth pressed in a firm line of dislike, a look that he saved especially for Harry.

"Sorry."

"Sorry, sir."

"Yeah, Sorry, sir." Harry sighed. He didn't have the strength to hate Snape tonight.

Snape swung out from behind his desk, which sent his cloak billowing out behind him like a caped crusader. He began pacing the office slowly running a finger along dusty bottles where animals and perhaps human body parts seemed to be preserved in eerie liquids, Harry thought for a moment that Snape might make him drink one.

"Tonight, Potter, you will be cleaning out the cupboards alongside the dungeons. You will not use magic."

He gestured to a bucket, some sponges and some sacks, which Harry assumed he was meant to fill with rubbish. "Anything valuable, you bring to me." Snape finished.

Harry nodded. At least it wasn't anything to do with flobberworms this time. As Snape strode out of the room Harry gingerly knelt on the hard stone floor and began to examine what work lay ahead for him. The first cupboard was at the back of the room they used for potions. It was under a bench, and had huge wooden doors that creaked as Harry pulled them open. A cloud of dust followed, and Harry had to sweep it away before he could actually see what was in the cupboard. It looked like this had been where students crammed broken things and junk for the past century. The whole cupboard smelt damp and musty and everything inside looked like it was made of soft grey sponge due to they layers of caked on, moist dust.

He began to pull the objects out, dropping them in a sack. He was unsure how he was meant to know if things were valuable, but he wasn't too bothered if he accidently threw out something Snape might have wanted. As he cleared away some of the dust he noticed that the majority of the back of the cupboard was filled with a large, ornate wooden cabinet. It had some strange carvings along the front that looked like runes.

Harry cleared out the front of the cupboard so he could reach the latch on the cabinet. A brief thought that the cabinet could be dark magic crossed his mind, but he ignored it as curiosity overwhelmed him. However, as he wrenched it open he felt disappointed.

"Empty," Harry muttered.

He went to close it again when the cabinet spoke back. "Hello?"

Harry froze, his hand still clenched on the handle. His eyes widened and he peered into the cabinet, trying to see where the voice could have come from. He paused, and then feeling rather stupid he spoke back. "Er, hello? Cabinet?"

"I'm stuck," the cabinet said. He registered it as a female voice. "Can you help me out?"

Harry glanced around the room, Snape didn't appear to have heard anything. He felt hesitant, he knew what others would say about him conversing with an object. "Never trust anything if you can't see where it keeps it's brain" .

However, Harry felt bad. The voice sounded distressed.

"Er… how do I do that?" Harry asked aloud, feeling even more stupid. If Snape was hiding somewhere and laughing at him he would be pissed.

"My jersey, it's caught. Can you grab my hand?" The cabinet said.

Harry grimaced, but stuck his hand into the empty cabinet. To his surprise, it didn't feel empty. In fact he felt wool, and then as he plunged his hand further, something warm, and squishy. With his fear long forgotten he moved his hand around curiously, but the cabinet yelled out.

"Would you reach a bit higher? That's my breast."

Harry felt his face burn, and he was glad the invisible female couldn't see him. He obliged, and reach his hand up. The cabinet extended further than it appeared to, and eventually his hand met another. It was a very strange experience. He then pulled, and as he did a young girl about his age materialized.

She was wearing a Gryffindor uniform, though her grey jersey was ripped at the side. She had long golden hair that was falling out of a ponytail, and what he imagined might have normally been a friendly freckled face, if it hadn't been glaring angrily at him. He felt a little offended, he had just rescued her.

"Of course it would be you groping my chest Potter."

Harry narrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" He couldn't recall having ever been lucky enough to grope a girls chest, nor could he remember ever trying.

She just laughed. Her face became more friendly and she gave him a one armed hug. "Alright then. Man, how long was I stuck in there? It felt like a good hour! Slughorn asked me to find a Bezoar, but then didn't seem to ever come and look for me. Is potions over?"

Harry was blank. He felt confused, but the girl was pretty and she was acting like she knew him, he didn't want to give it away.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I was in here for detention. Who is Slughorn?"

The girl slipped his arm off him. "Don't be daft. Our potions Professor."

Harry frowned. "Oh Snape? He's in his office?" The cabinet must have addled her brains.

The girl was now mirroring Harry's confusement. "What's Snivellus got to do with this?"

Harry's frown deepened. "Maybe I should take you to the hospital wing…" he said slowly.

She put her hands on her hips. "James. Stop being weird, you're freaking me out."

James? She just called him James. She seemed very earnest about it as well, and to his dismay he noticed her blue eyes were starting to sparkle with tears.

"James?" she repeated.

Luckily it was at this moment that Snape decided to return to the room. He stormed in, robes flapping about his ankles.

"Potter, who are you speaking to! I wasn't aware I allowed others to help you with your detention work!"

Harry glanced at the girl who's eyes widened as she turned to see Snape enter the room. Snape stopped abruptly when he neared the two teenagers, and went deathly silent. Harry wasn't sure how to explain what had happened.

"Er, sir," he stammered. "She came out of the cupboard."

Snape had gone pale. "What is the meaning of this?"

The girl looked scared and she backed up towards the back of the room. "Who are you?" she asked Snape.

He didn't answer her question. "McIlwraith?"

The girl was now fingering her long hair nervously. "Yeah," she said. "James, could you just get Slughorn?"

Harry gaped hopelessly, and turned to Snape for some help. To his surprise he saw Snape give glance of near compassion at the girl.

"Potter," he said. "Let's take McIlwraith to Dumbledore."

Harry nodded, and he offered the girl who was now shaking his arm. She took it and he felt him squeezing his arm tightly. As they walked toward Dumbledores office the girl began looking around confused. "That man, is that Snape's dad?" she whispered to Harry.

Harry wasn't sure what to say. It seemed almost as though this girl was really from a Hogwarts of the past. A Hogwarts where she had known his father, and a young Snape.

They reached the statue outside Dumbledores office and Snape swept them wordlessly up the stairs. The girls grip did not loosen from Harry's arm, and in fact when they came upstairs she shuffled close to him and Harry blushed.

"Professor," Snape began, but before he could finish Dumbledore was eyeing the girl seriously through his half moon glasses.

"My word…" he said slowly. "Charlotte McIlwraith?"

"Yes!" she replied, a little shrilly. "Why is everyone acting like I'm dead? You're really scaring me!"

Dumbledore's face immediately was erased of any confusion. He whipped his wand out and conjured up a seat and he gestured for her to sit down. Charlotte seemed reluctant to let go of Harry's arm.

"Sorry Ms McIlwraith, please take a seat."

She loosened her grip from Harry and slipped into the armchair. Dumbledore seemed to be pondering his options. He turned to Snape. "Severus, could you get me a calming potion please?"

Snape nodded and swept out of the room at once.

"Harry, please take a seat."

Charlotte was gripping her armchair, she eyed him suspiciously. "Why is everyone calling you Harry? Where is Sirius?"

Dumbledore, however, interrupted. "Charlotte, please take a deep breath. Everything is going to be fine. Can you tell me what happened to you on the 4th of February 1975?"