CHAPTER 4
Three Healers
Ginny felt warm and content. She was only faintly aware of the world which existed outside her bed. It was harsh and filled with stress. She was happy and content right where she was, enveloped in luxurious comfort. She remembered that she wasn't at home. There was some reason why she wasn't but she didn't really care at the moment. Unfortunately, the more she tried not to care, the more insistent the memory seemed to be. She pulled the covers over her head, trying to hide from the inevitable.
A click echoed through the room and she froze.
"Ginny!"
She sat up suddenly, her body tense and ready to flee for reasons she couldn't yet remember. An instant later, a pale face surrounded by bushy hair leaned into the room. Hermione glared at the door. "Sound Barrier Charm?"
Ginny nodded groggily.
Hermione slipped into the room with her wand still in her hand, closing the door gently behind her. As her shoes clicked across the stone floor, Ginny noted her odd appearance. She was wearing the same black robes she used to wear for the Department of Mysteries and she had transfigured the comfortable shoes she was wearing yesterday to look more formal, yet her hair was still untamed and her robe was wrinkled in a few places. She must have been forced to dress quickly.
"Time to wake up," she announced. "The Ministry is sending wizards to see you."
To her left, Ginny felt something under the covers shift and emit a low grumble.
"See that he wakes up as well," Hermione said with a frown. She picked up the Invisibility Cloak from the floor and tossed it toward Harry. "That should make a suitable dressing gown, for you," she said in a louder voice. "Honestly, Harry. It's past nine o' clock. You should have been awake hours ago. I hope you haven't forgotten that you're supposed to be dead."
"Dead tired, perhaps," Harry grumbled as he pulled back the covers.
"And why would that be?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "You don't look as though you've had trouble sleeping."
"No," he said with a broad smile. "I slept astonishingly well." He slowly raised his head and squinted at Ginny. "Morning, Ginny," he croaked.
"Good morning, Harry," she replied, unable to keep herself from smiling and laughing. He smiled back.
"Enough!" groaned Hermione. "Ginny, did you miss the fact that there are Ministry wizards headed to this room? I'm sure it would be easy enough to convince them that you're lazy and forgetful, but the image of you lying in bed with a dead wizard is a little trickier."
"Tell them to wait until later," Ginny said after a yawning and rubbing her eyes. The bed was still warm and the air in the room felt surprisingly cold. Why was the fifth floor so cold? She stretched to grab her wand off the bedside table. With one flick the fireplace roared to life.
"I can't tell them to wait," growled Hermione. "They're following orders given by the Minister himself. When I left they were talking to McGonagall. You might have a minute or so until they show up."
Panic shot through Ginny's body. She leaped from the bed, looked at herself in the mirror on her wall and nearly collapsed. She looked horrible. Her hair was a complete mess and she had no robes to wear. She didn't even have a good shirt. She had transfigured the one she had been wearing yesterday into the white satin nightgown she was currently wearing. It didn't matter. There wasn't time.
"I need robes," she called out to Hermione as she turned her wand on the nightgown. With a flash it shrank and became a sensible-looking blouse.
"No peeking, Harry," Hermione said as her wand flicked toward the bed. A strip of black cloth popped into existence and wrapped itself tightly over his eyes. "I'll see what I can do with this rug," she told Ginny.
Ginny looked down at the jeans she had worn yesterday. They weren't really the sort of thing she wore while working at the Ministry. However, the last time she had tried to turn a pair of jeans into a skirt, the result had looked more useful as curtains than clothing. She shrugged and told herself that if the Ministry was going to pay surprise visits it couldn't complain about the dress of its employees. She quickly slipped into the jeans and ran her wand over them, cleaning off a few dusty spots from the day before.
"I'm decent again, Harry," she called out as she strode over to the mirror to fix her hair. Behind her, she could hear Harry pulling off his blindfold.
"You look good for having woken up a minute ago," he called out from behind her.
Ginny felt herself laugh. She turned around briefly to find him smiling and watching her straighten her hair with her wand.
"Shut up, you two," scolded Hermione. "This rug must be enchanted. It's not taking the charm quite right."
In the mirror Ginny saw the reflection of a hideous set of robes. They were the right size and shape, but it was still a garish red with brown highlights and tassels poking out from all the seams. She bent double as she broke out laughing again. "That's brilliant," she said between breaths. "Toss it here. Maybe I'll be able to scare them off so I can get a bit more sleep."
"You've had plenty, I'm sure," replied Hermione with a reproachful look. "Come on, Harry, get up!" she said, prodding him with her wand. "That Invisibility Cloak can't hide a lump in a bed. You're going to have to find a place to hide. And take off your nightshirt."
"Take off my shirt?" Harry said with a roguish grin. "What will Ron think?"
"He won't think anything because you're not going to tell him about it. Now shut up, take off your shirt and get over here!"
Still laughing, Harry pulled off his shirt and walked toward Hermione. She yanked the shirt from his hands and shoved him against the wall. With a flash, the shirt turned into a nicely-tailored set of black robes. Hermione threw them to Ginny and then pulled the Invisibility Cloak from the bed. She wadded it into a ball and tossed it at Harry's chest.
"Put that on and keep quiet," she ordered him. Once Harry had slipped the cloak over his head, Hermione aimed her wand at the door. It shimmered for a moment and then returned to normal. Almost immediately Ginny could hear voices in the corridor outside the door. Quickly she pulled the robes on and tried to straighten them out.
Hermione strode over to the bed and waved her wand. The sheets began smoothing, folding and tucking themselves back into place. "Button your robes," she hissed at Ginny, "and please try not to look so disgustingly happy."
Ginny smiled one last time, then pressed her hands to her face forcing the muscles in her cheeks to relax. With almost no time to spare, Ginny buttoned the front of her robes, leaving only the collar of her blouse visible. Loud voices and a sharp knock at the door announced the arrival of the Ministry wizards.
"Ginevra Weasley?" a gruff voice called from the other side of the door. "My name is Herbert Hemlock, and I am from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I need to speak with you."
Ginny felt a pang of worry at the tone of his voice. Was she in trouble? Hermione would have warned her if she was, wouldn't she? Hermione stood where she was and gave Ginny an encouraging nod toward the door. Taking this as a good sign, Ginny walked to the door and slowly opened it.
"Ah, I see you are awake," commented the wizard at the door. "Miss Granger said she had not seen you this morning." The wizard was tall, with short greying hair and a darkly colored beard. His eyes were heavy lidded and dark, making him look slightly ominous.
"She hadn't," replied Ginny lightly. "I woke up hours ago, but I was waiting for the Headmistress to call for me. I know how busy she can get in the mornings and I did not want to be a burden."
"Perhaps you could have used your spare time to send an owl to the Department?" the man suggested as he walked into the room. As he left the doorway, Ginny could see that there were a number of other people with him. A witch had already followed him into the room. She was blonde-haired and fair skinned, and she made no attempt to introduce herself.
Ginny stared at her as she stepped around the older wizard to put herself between Ginny and Hermione. Something about their behavior told Ginny to be on her guard. "I only just returned to Britain yesterday," she lied, hoping neither of them could prove her wrong. "I planned to return to the Ministry as soon as I was able to speak with Professor McGonagall. Is there any reason why that would be a problem?"
The witch and the wizard exchanged stony looks. "Were you aware of the attack on the Ministry one week ago?" the grey-haired wizard asked her.
"Yes."
"And why have you not returned to the Ministry to report what you know of those events?" He didn't even try to hide the knowledge that she had been there.
"I was occupied with business in Romania," she answered, hoping that Josef had been able to do everything he had promised.
The old wizard stared at her shrewdly. "Is there anything about the last week that you might wish to discuss with me? I can guarantee a private place where we might talk."
It sounded remarkably similar to the first time the Minister had sent wizards to find out about what had happened in Romania. She hoped that the same strategy would work again the second time.
"As far as I know, Grigore Tarus is still the Minister of Romania," she said, lying again. This time she noticed that the corner of the blonde witch's mouth twitched. She was looking at Ginny with a knowing gaze. "The Healers were confident that he would recover," she continued. "As such, I am still the Liaison to Romania and cannot reveal what has happened there without Mr. Tarus's permission."
"I regret to inform you that Grigore Tarus died early this morning," Hemlock announced. "Dragomir Debreczeni has been chosen to succeed him and he has already assumed his duties. However, that does mean that there is some... uncertainty about your position in these matters. If you would like to discuss anything which might have happened between then and now, I would be very interested to hear it."
"Oh, that is terrible news," Ginny replied feigning grief. "He was a brave man. Though, so is Dragomir. I would much rather speak with him before I discuss anything."
The wizard's face broke into a gloating smile and he turned to the blonde witch who now looked rather bored with the whole situation. She took a deep breath and said in a clear voice: "Bring him in, then."
Flanked by a pair of Aurors was Josef, again wearing the purple robes of the Romanian guard. He beamed at Ginny and held out a roll of parchment bound with three golden ribbons. She quickly unrolled it and read it. It was precisely what she had expected. Josef had kept his word. Dragomir was offering to retain her as the Liaison. Ginny didn't know how much it would truly be needed, but it would at least keep the Ministry from bothering her. When she looked up, Josef was offering her a fresh quill.
The moment she had signed the parchment, Josef rolled it back up and slipped it into his robes. He smiled brightly at the other two wizards. "I'm afraid I need to speak with the Liaison. Would you mind giving us some privacy?"
"In a moment," replied Hemlock. "Based on the return of stolen property and the testimony given to the Minister of Magic by Mr. Kantos on behalf of the wizards of Romania, the Ministry of Magic has agreed to grant you and your friends amnesty for whatever part you played in the events on the fourteenth of September. As such, you are re-instated to your full position with the Department of International Magical Cooperation. You will be expected to report to the Ministry before this evening. Until then, there is a situation which Mr. Harrington needs you to begin looking into."
"Can it wait a day?" Ginny asked. "I was helping—"
"It cannot wait," he interrupted her. "There are reports that a troubling disease has infected a student of this school. I understand how shocking this must be," he added pointedly. "Miss Granger has recently been reinstated to her position with the Department of Mysteries, though she is currently restricted to field research due to a lack of open offices," he said with a sidelong look at the blonde witch. She blinked back at him with disinterest.
"She will be studying the disease to learn its origin. Mr. Harrington feels that, because of your friendship, the two of you would be able to work closely without interfering with each other's duties. It will be your duty to learn what you can of it so that you will be able to inform the Ministries of neighboring countries of our progress in describing and curing it. Will that be acceptable?"
Ginny tried to look around the blonde witch to see Hermione's face, but it was impossible to do. Finally, Ginny did the only thing she could. "Yes," she agreed. "That sounds alright."
He nodded and smiled. "Very well, then. I must return. Mr. Harrington is very busy and he is expecting my report as soon as possible. He will be happy to hear of your good health." He turned and addressed the Aurors. "I believe you are done here," he said. "Miss Weasley has business to attend to, and she needs privacy. You lot all need to leave."
The blonde witch walked to the door, but Hermione remained in place. "It's no use," she told Josef. "You won't get any privacy in here."
Mr. Hemlock paused to give her a confused look. "What in the world do you mean, Miss Granger?"
"Ghosts," she replied. "You know, spirits of the dead? Hogwarts has loads of them. You never know when one might show up."
Josef smiled and nodded. "Yes, Miss Granger, I know what ghosts are. I'm certain that I can handle any ghosts who might pop in."
The Aurors motioned for Hermione to step out of the room she did. After she passed through the doorway, Mr. Hemlock leaned in one last time to remind Ginny to stop by the Ministry before that evening. Just before he left, he reached in and tapped the door with his wand. "Silencing Charm," he said. "Just for extra measure. Still, you might want to show some discretion." With a polite bow he pulled the door shut behind him leaving Ginny and Josef standing in the center of the room.
"You took quite a few risks just then," Josef said lightly as he walked over to one of the cushioned chairs. He took out his wand and prodded the chair before slowly sitting.
"What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely confused about just which part had been risky.
"You lied to them," he said simply. "You lied about things of no value. You would have been better to simply remain silent. Luckily, the Department of Mysteries didn't have time to find a Legilimens to send here with me." He shook his head. "Honestly, Ginny. There was no need to tell them that you had been awake for hours. I don't even need to be a Legilimens to know that is a lie."
"What?" she gasped. "How do you know that?"
"I'm not blind," he said with a smile. "Do you expect me to believe that you woke up hours ago and yet you are still wearing—" he paused to point to the ground "—socks covered in tiny dancing pigs?"
Ginny looked down at her feet and groaned in embarrassment. "They're soft, alright? I didn't have time to find anything else the day before." She walked over to where she'd thrown her shoes and slipped them on to cover as much of them as she could. "I should just toss them in the bin and be done with it. They're not worth all this."
"So where is Harry?" Josef called out while she struggled with the shoelaces. "I assume he's here somewhere. Did he slip in with Miss Granger?"
Ginny nodded toward the corner where Hermione had pushed Harry.
"The Invisibility Cloak, right?" he said with a smile. "Harry never could pull off the right charms when he needed to. He'd always run back to his Cloak." Josef put his feet up on an ottoman and leaned back. "Come on out, Harry. I need to speak with you as well."
Harry's voice came out of nowhere. "So speak."
"Come on, Harry," Josef chided. "I've got news you'll want to hear, and it will be a lot easier if I'm not forced to speak to thin air."
"I'd rather not," Harry replied. "I didn't have time to dress."
"That's never stopped you before," replied Josef. "You have several faults, Harry, but modesty has never been one of them. Ginny's a good person. Whatever you're wearing, I'm sure she won't judge you. Drop the cloak and let's get down to business."
When there was no response, Ginny spoke up, asking Harry to show himself. Without warning, the wall peeled itself open and dropped to the floor, revealing Harry standing in just the flannel pants he slept in. Josef snorted in amusement.
"I see Ginny wasn't the only one who overslept. The least you could have done was to put on a shirt."
Harry scowled. "I had a nightshirt. She needed robes."
Ginny watched as the truth struck Josef suddenly. He swallowed and looked down at the floor. "Oh. Of course. You both overslept because you were in the same bed." He kept his face hidden so that Ginny couldn't quite make out the expression on his face. It appeared to be some form on embarrassment.
"I feel a little foolish," he admitted, "and that is not a feeling I'm fond of. Touché, Harry." Josef pulled out his wand and looped it at the sheets on the bed. With ruffle of fabric, they twirled themselves into an expensive looking black dressing robe. "There. Can we get on with our business?" he asked still trying not to look either of them in the eyes.
Harry put on the dressing gown and sat down in a nearby chair. Ginny felt suddenly awkward wearing the robes which had once been Harry's shirt. She tossed them on the bed and walked over to take a seat on the couch between Harry and Josef. Once she'd sat down, Josef began talking.
As he'd promised, the Brotherhood had exerted its influence to see that Ginny and Hermione had been given their jobs. Apparently Harrington had been the easiest to work with. He had already been petitioning the Minister's office to stop looking for Ginny as a criminal. The Minister himself had been more difficult since he was eager to get answers for what had happened. He'd traded it easily enough for the promise of help capturing the Death Eaters who'd been involved.
Auguste Reynard had been the most difficult. There was little the Brotherhood could give him that would offset the knowledge that one of his employees had betrayed him. The return of Voldemort's wand had helped, but Josef wasn't willing to say everything that had been involved with the trade that had secured Hermione's position again. Josef was only willing to say that the Department of Mysteries and the Brotherhood would continue to share information.
This seemed worrisome to Ginny but Harry hadn't reacted at all. He simply nodded silently as though he'd expected this all along.
"As part of this... partnership," Josef continued, "he told me that one of the Aurors stationed here has been passing information to him." He stared calmly at Harry. "I don't know what is going on here, but as you heard, the Ministry is suddenly very interested in whatever it is. He said that he knew about how they found the girl. He knew that she had a mirror and a diary. The mirror is easy enough to understand, once you've studied the history of this castle. The diary is more mysterious. He didn't know what it meant and neither do I. Could you explain it to me?"
Ginny lowered her head and kept quiet. After a moment, Harry spoke up for her. "Hermione was carrying a mirror when she was attacked. And when Ginny was attacked, she had been holding a diary."
Josef seemed unimpressed by this explanation. "I fear it may be more than that, but it doesn't matter. He's convinced that this is your doing. He can't say that publicly, of course, but you would do well to remain discrete for the time being. You still have many enemies, Harry."
"I know," he replied. "I was hoping you'd have some information on them. In particular, I'm interested in Marcus Lipton. I know he was alive when we escaped. Where is he now?"
"Marcus?" Josef repeated, stiffening in his chair. "Why do you want to know about Marcus?"
"His son was the one who found the girl," Ginny said, finally speaking up. Something about his response to the name had told her that Harry's idea might not be as bad as she'd first thought.
"Marcus refused the order to assemble and fled Romania," Josef told them. "We've been tracking him since then. I haven't heard any news about him for some time, but I will ask the others and return later. Do you think that he could have done this?"
"Grigore used to say that there is no such thing as a coincidence."
Josef looked troubled and uncertain for a moment. "You make a good point, but I doubt Marcus has returned to Britain. Dragomir was to contact me if he thought any of the missing members had come here."
"Maybe he slipped in," suggested Harry. "I did it all the time."
"You're a better wizard than Marcus will ever be."
Ginny watched in fascination. Despite a hint of bitterness in Harry's voice and the slight condescension in Josef's, it was obvious that the two had once been friends. Not, perhaps, as close as Harry and Ron were, but there was a comfortable familiarity that she'd only seen with people who trusted each other —or had, at some point.
"Maybe he didn't need to come back to Britain," commented Harry. "How much would he know about Ginny and me?"
"Enough," snorted Josef. "He would know you two... have a relationship. I wouldn't be surprised if he has read the stories about Ginny's first year here. His skill with potions was impressive. He might have been able to brew up something to convince one of the former students to share their memories of the attack, but then—" He stopped and tapped his finger on his chin pensively. "I think I see what you mean. He still could not have known about that diary. There is something about it you're not telling me. Something important."
"That doesn't matter right now," said Harry dismissively. "If he is the one doing this, then he's found someone to help him. The only other wizards who might know about the Diary were the Death Eaters."
Much to Ginny's surprise, Josef barely reacted to the news. "Yes. Yes, I understand your concerns, now. That is possible. It doesn't explain how they might have gotten into this place, but... it is not as difficult as your Aurors believe."
"What about this disease?" Ginny asked. "What's causing it? Is there some way to stop it?"
"I don't know," he told her. "It might not be a disease at all. I don't know how skilled your local Healer is. As I said, Lipton was a master of potion-making. It is possible that this poor girl simply drank a very complex, slow-acting poison. You might also want to consider that she might be under the effects of a cursed item."
"Hogwarts has wards set up to warn the professors if any item brought into the castle has an abnormally strong curse upon it," Harry explained. "A few years ago there was some trouble with a necklace. I don't think they've been removed since then."
Josef sighed heavily. "Well, it has to be something, Harry. If Hogwarts' defenses were perfect, we wouldn't be here, would we?" Slowly, he leaned forward and stood up.
"I will try to see what I can find out about Marcus and this disease," he told them. "Dragomir and I were hoping that we would be able to tell you that you could finally announce yourself to an adoring public, but considering this news it's probably for the best that you remain hidden for now. I will try and help you, but please Harry, try not to do anything terribly stupid for a few days?"
Harry scowled at him. "Like what?"
"I don't know, Harry," Josef replied with grin. "You continue to amaze me with the stupid things you decide to do. I'd be happy if you could refrain from attacking anyone for just three days."
"I haven't attacked anyone for a week."
"I'm giddy," Josef replied flatly. "You've managed to avoid attacking friends you've had for nine years. Now let's see how you do when you have to spend time around the rest of the wizarding world."
As he walked to the door, Josef turned to bow politely to Ginny. "I will gather what information I can and speak with you when you return to the Ministry this afternoon. I suggest you delay your return as late as you can. Good day." He turned about, opened the door, and walked out. Before the door closed again, Hermione had stepped into the room.
"McGonagall and Lupin want to speak to us," she announced. "And for heaven's sake Harry, put a shirt on."
Luckily for Harry, McGonagall had set the meeting to be in Lupin's office. Now that they had their jobs back and a mandate from the Ministry of Magic, Ginny and Hermione were free to walk through the corridors without much anxiety. Harry, however, wasn't having such an easy time. While the students dodged Ron, Hermione and Ginny, Harry had to stay on their heels to avoid being trampled by the herd of students moving between lessons.
The streams of teenagers had thinned by time they reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Tacked to the door was a note in bold writing:
Classes canceled for the day. Fourth-years should read chapter six on Disabling Curses. Seventh-year students should read the section on Concealment Charms and write ten inches on how best to select a Concealment Charm in a defensive situation.
Ginny opened the door and found Lupin and McGonagall standing at the front of the classroom with Tonks and an Auror they had not yet met. He looked to be about as old as Tonks with wavy brown hair that hung down past his jaw. He spotted them immediately and smiled, announcing: "Remus. They're here."
Harry slipped into the room behind the three of them and kept to the walls while they walked down the center aisle toward the others. The new Auror introduced himself to Ron, Hermione and Ginny. His name was Simon Weller. He was indeed just as old as Tonks and they had gone through Auror training at the same time. Before he could spend too much time praising her abilities at avoiding detection, McGonagall stopped him and directed them to Lupin's office.
Unable to find any safe way to slip into the office, Harry had to be content to listen at the door. Knowing nothing about why McGonagall had called the meeting, there was little Harry could tell Ginny to do. He had to rely on his friends to ask the right questions. They didn't let him down.
Almost immediately after McGonagall congratulated them on getting their jobs back and thanking them for taking the assignment to help her, Ginny spoke up and nearly demanded to speak with Marius Lipton.
This caught McGonagall by surprise. She tried to explain that a number of wizards had already spoken with Marius and that none of them believed he had lied to them.
Ginny was persistent. "We think they might have missed something. He might have been telling the truth, but it's possible that the Aurors weren't asking the right questions."
"We're also going to need to see Miraphora Franklin," announced Hermione.
McGonagall seemed more willing to let them speak with the Ravenclaw prefect than let them enter the Hospital Wing. "Poppy and the Healers from St. Mungo's agree. It's too early to tell if this disease will spread to other wizards. I afraid you'll have to do your research some other way. The Healers have said they would be more than willing to speak—"
"I'm sorry, Professor," interrupted Hermione, "but I'm afraid you will have to let me into the Hospital Wing. I have been given special authority by the Minister—"
"Special authority?" gasped McGonagall. "I cannot believe that you of all people would use the Ministry's authority to tell me how to run this school. I though you were here to—"
"We are here to help you," insisted Hermione. There was a moment of silence before she continued. "I don't think this disease is contagious, if it's even a disease, but I can't prove that if you don't let me see her."
They continued arguing for some time. McGonagall and Lupin tried to convince Hermione that the best Healers in Britain were looking at the girl, but she stood her ground. She and Ginny had related a condensed version of the discussion that had taken place with Josef, but Harry was now beginning to wonder if they had understood something he hadn't. After another minute of argument, McGonagall reluctantly agreed, so long as they would be willing to observe some form of safety.
Harry very nearly stumbled as he tried to get out of the way of the door. McGonagall emerged a second later, looking more disgruntled than she had when they had gone into the office. Ginny and Hermione followed her, trailing a satisfied-looking Ron. Lupin and the Auror were close behind him. With a little difficulty and quite a bit of nerve, he slipped back out of the room just behind the Aurors.
Ginny wasn't sure exactly what she was supposed to be doing. Professor McGonagall had agreed to Ginny's request to speak with Marcus Lipton's son. That had been quite a bit easier than she had expected. She hadn't known that Hermione was going to demand to see the girl as well.
McGonagall had been forced to agree. Hermione did have the support of the Minister. Reynard always seemed to be able to get the Minister to agree to such escalations of power. While Ginny had to admit to herself that she was interested in seeing the girl, she wasn't sure it was worth the trade off.
In order to give Madam Pomfrey and the Healers time to prepare for the visit, she had agreed to have them meet with Marius Lipton first. Harry hadn't told her anything about what questions she was supposed to ask. She could guess some of them, but unless she could find some way to speak with Harry, it was going to be a rather short discussion. McGonagall led them all to an old classroom and had them wait there while Tonks and Simon went to fetch Marius Lipton from whatever lesson he was in the middle of.
Ginny found herself obsessed with the door to the room. It had been open long enough for Harry to enter, hadn't it? Should she find some excuse to leave the room? She could ask to visit the bathrooms. That would give her an excuse to open the door for a little longer as well as possibly create and opportunity for Harry to tell her exactly what he thought Marius knew that would help them. Before she had a chance to act, Tonks and Simon were back, escorting a bewildered Marius Lipton.
"What is this?" he asked as he sat down at one of the dusty tables. "What do you all want?"
"We need to ask you a few more questions about what happened two nights ago," answered Professor McGonagall. "This is Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley and—"
"I know who they are," Marius told her. "Why are they here?"
"We just want to ask you a few questions," Hermione answered, "—in private, if you don't mind."
McGonagall looked slightly offended, but she didn't argue. She motioned for the Aurors to leave and then turned to do the same with Ron.
"Ron can stay," Hermione said in low voice.
"There is a good reason, I assume," McGonagall said with raised eyebrows.
"For the time being, Ron will be acting as my guard. The Minister has insisted that another wizard watch over me at all times," Hermione explained. "I don't want to force any of your Aurors to follow me around when Ron will be doing that anyway." McGonagall accepted it with a stern gaze, and walked out of the room.
Marius glared at them from his table. He didn't say a word; he simply watched them with a look of smoldering disgust.
Ginny was still no closer to figuring out just what she was supposed to ask. Ron seemed equally unsure. Only Hermione seemed to have any idea where they were supposed to start.
"Two nights ago," she began slowly, "how did you know there had been an attack?"
"A man wearing a cloak and a mask walked up to me and told me," he said flatly. "He was covered in blood and cackling maniacally."
"You expect me to believe that?" replied Hermione.
"Of course not, you bloody moron," the boy shot back. "I didn't know there was an attack. I guess I just made that assumption when I saw that girl, deathly pale and lying in front of that message. Should I have reported it as vandalism instead?"
Ginny heard a faint voice speaking: "Why was he there? The Astronomy Tower is on the other side of the staircase."
The sound of Harry's voice had nearly made her jump. He was very close to her. After waiting a moment to make sure no one else had heard him, she spoke up: "You were coming back from a night at the Astronomy Tower, weren't you?" He glared at her strangely and nodded. "Where were you going? If you were headed back to your common room, why didn't you take the stairs?"
"Because I'm a prefect," he said, pointing at the small gold badge on his robes. "The torches along that corridor light when people approach them. I saw torches lit. I thought it might have been a student sneaking about the corridors, so I went to investigate. There have also been reports of something odd lurking about."
"Do you know what it is?" asked Hermione.
"Why are you asking me?" he replied. "You're the one who works for the Department of Mysteries. Isn't that why the Headmistress brought you here?"
"How do you know who we are?" Ginny asked, hoping to catch him off guard.
It didn't work. He glared at her as if she'd insulted him. "Come off it," he groaned. "He's the second most dreadful Keeper in the league," he said with a nod toward Ron. "The professors still talk about the amazing Hermione Granger and you've been in the Prophet more than both of them combined."
"And do you know why we're here?"
For a few seconds, Marius didn't reply. He simply stared at Ginny. "You're here to see what I know about the attack," he finally said. "You think that there's something I'm not telling the others."
"Is there something you didn't tell them?" prompted Ginny.
"No."
"Ask him about his father," whispered Harry. "Ask him about the last time he heard from his father."
Ginny relayed the question immediately. She had expected Marius to get upset or make some cutting remark. Instead he simply sat in his chair with a stony expression on his face as he stared at the table in front of him.
"You look like her, you know," he commented.
Ginny was confused. "Like who?"
"The girl in the corridor," he explained. "Frankston or Frankford or something. You look like her."
His apathy upset her. "Her name is Miraphora Franklin," she said slowly.
"Right. That is it," he replied, waving his hand casually. "But I suppose that wasn't quite the right way to say it. You don't look like her. She looks like you. That's why you're so interested, isn't it?"
Ginny was frozen with shock and anger. Her mouth moved soundlessly as she tried to think of a good answer.
"We're here to ask you about your father," Ron answered. "She asked you a question: When did you last hear from your father."
Marius blinked and turned toward Ron. "My father? I... I got an owl from him on Friday. He said that he was... He said he was in danger. He was worried about me. He thought I might be in danger as well."
"Does he have the message?" hissed Harry.
Ginny asked quickly, but Marius shook his head. His father worked in the Department of Mysteries. That meant that all messages were burnt or otherwise destroyed as soon as they were read.
Hermione and Ron continued to question him about every detail of the message he could remember: the type of owl, the hour it had arrived, where he had been when it was delivered, even the people who were around him when he got it. Nothing seemed to help them understand what had happened.
"We're getting nowhere," mumbled Harry. "He might as well go. There's nothing more we can get from him right now."
Ginny waited for a break in the questions, and told Marius that they were done with him and that he could go. She tried to act as polite and thankful as possible. She sensed that they might need to speak with him again and she didn't want to make it any worse than this attempt.
Once he'd left, Harry pulled down the Invisibility Cloak enough for Ron, Hermione and Ginny to see his face. Ginny had been disappointed with the outcome of the questioning, but Harry looked to be downright disgusted.
"He's hiding something," he told them, "but it's nothing he saw that night and he hasn't heard from his father since Friday."
"How do you know that?" Ron snorted. "Are you Legilimens now?"
Harry shook his head. "No, but this wasn't my first interrogation either. After a while you can just get a feel for these things. If he saw anything, he was memory charmed so well we wouldn't even know where to start looking." Harry ran a floating hand through his hair. "He's quite clever, but it couldn't have been him. He barely knew the girl's name, and even if he did, he simply doesn't have the ability to cast any spells powerful enough to confuse Lupin or make any poisons beyond Madam Pomfrey's skill to cure."
Ginny slumped into a chair nearby, feeling even more confused and frustrated than she had before the meeting. Now, not only did she not have any idea what she was supposed to do, but she had the knowledge that the one guess they had was utterly wrong.
"Well, it wasn't completely worthless," Hermione told Ginny after hearing how she felt. "There were a couple things we didn't know. We know that Marcus Lipton is alive and he thinks that he's put his son in danger."
Harry was quick to jump in and reassure all of them that Marius had little to fear from the Brotherhood. He explained that they might assign someone to follow him and watch for his father, but they wouldn't kill or hurt him simply because his father had betrayed them. It was much more likely that they would have recruited Marius to help them track down and kill his own father.
"None of that matters, though," he said despondently. "It was a guess and it was wrong. Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Perhaps there was supposed to be something more to the attack, but Marius interrupted it before someone could finish. Perhaps he's got nothing to do with it and the attack happened just after dinner that night."
"Well, if we can't figure out who might have done this," said Hermione, "maybe we should try to understand just what they did and see how that might help us."
Harry let out a deep sigh. "Alright then. Let's go pay a visit to Miraphora Franklin."
"I don't care if Merlin himself signed that parchment, it's not safe! I'm having quite enough trouble treating one student. The last thing I need is three more wizards to look after."
"Now, Poppy—" began Professor McGonagall.
"No, Minerva," she interrupted. "The orders from St. Mungo's are that no one else enters until we figure out what is causing this."
"That's why we're here," insisted Hermione. "We are trying to help you figure out what's happened. There's a chance that this isn't a disease at all. Lupin hasn't gotten it. Marius Lipton hasn't gotten it. No one else has. Just her."
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but the situation is not what it was yesterday," argued Madam Pomfrey.
"If her condition's changed, then that's all the more reason for us to take a look at her," replied Hermione.
Harry was standing behind the small group of wizards waiting outside the door to the Hospital Wing. Ginny had hung back, letting Hermione and Professor McGonagall try to convince Madam Pomfrey to let them in. Tonks and Simon were standing a ways behind them and watching for students.
Harry allowed himself to ignore the conversation at the door. They were arguing, but they weren't saying anything he hadn't expected them to. In the end, none of it would matter. Hermione and Ginny had orders from the Minister himself. They could walk in even without Pomfrey's permission. The only purpose of the discussion was to impress upon all of them just how serious the situation might be. This was something they were all familiar with. Even if Miraphora Franklin had been infected with a horrible wizarding disease, entering the room wouldn't be the most dangerous thing they had done that month.
"Well, I may not be able to forbid you from seeing Miss Franklin," said Madam Pomfrey sternly, "but I can force you to observe the most rudimentary of precautions."
She quickly handed a folded piece of white fabric through the small window in the door and told Hermione to tie it tightly over her nose and mouth. "I will allow you to see her, but for your safety, you must not linger. Ask whatever questions you must, write down anything you like, but perform your duty and leave as quickly as you can."
Hermione took the cloth and frowned. "Ginny and Ron are coming with me."
Madam Pomfrey looked far from pleased, but she didn't restart their earlier disagreement. She knew as well as Harry that they would only end up back where they were now. She handed four more through the window, offering a pair of them to Lupin and the Headmistress. They accepted them and began tying them as Ron and Hermione were.
Ginny still hadn't put hers on. Harry thought he understood why. Her eyes were shifting from the door to the cloth in her hands. She was almost certainly thinking the same thing he was: if they were wrong and it truly was a disease, how much risk would he be in if he followed them?
"Are you alright, Ginny?" Lupin asked with a muffled voice. "You don't have to do this. I'm sure Hermione and I would be—"
"No," Ginny said firmly. "I want to see her. I need to see her. That's why I'm here, isn't it? So that I can tell others what is happening?" Ginny turned and looked away from the door, her gaze passing somewhere off Harry's left shoulder. "I'll see her and I'll explain what I see to anyone who needs to know."
The message had been quite clear: Ginny didn't want Harry to follow them. She didn't know what was happening and was worried about him. He could understand that. She'd lost him for a year and now she'd found him again. It felt reasonable for her to be protective.
And yet Harry felt compelled to enter the hall. He had been certain that Marcus Lipton was behind the attack. Everything seemed to fit. It really wouldn't have taken much for him to learn about the Diary. He would have known about Harry and Ginny. The entire Brotherhood knew. They had been using Ginny as bait to draw him out for almost a year. The parallels between this girl and Ginny were simply too much to ignore.
It had to be the work of the Brotherhood, but that still didn't answer all the questions. What had they done to the girl? Why had they done it? In the past, the purpose of such an attack was only to draw Harry out of hiding. A simple Petrification Curse would have done that. Even if Pomfrey had cured it in a day, it still would have coaxed Harry out of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
There was something more that he couldn't quite figure out how to describe. It was a feeling. He could feel that there was something else going on here. He could feel that it wasn't going to have a simple explanation. He could feel that the only way he'd ever figure it out was by walking through the doorway and into the Hospital Wing. Miraphora Franklin would give him the answers he was looking for. He could sense it.
When Madam Pomfrey opened the doors, the five wizards in front of him quickly filed through. Since she had been standing in the back, Ginny was the last to walk through. As he'd done before, Harry followed close behind her, placing one hand on her lower back. She paused at the door for a second, and he pressed her forward. Once inside the door, he shuffled along the wall, avoiding Madam Pomfrey as she closed and locked the door.
The curtains between the beds had been taken down, and every bed within twenty feet of Miraphora had been removed. There were no tables, no chairs and no shelves to place any potions. Even within the Hospital Wing, steps had been taken to separate her from every possible object.
Slowly, Pomfrey led the group toward the girl. Harry tried to keep as much distance as he could. To be honest, he didn't keep as much distance as he wanted. He needed to get a good look at her. There was no way he'd be able to spot anything of interest from the other side of the room. He slowly crept along the beds behind the others, keeping as close to the wall as he could until he had passed the last bed around the barren floor surrounding her. He hoped that the cloth of the Invisibility Cloak would work in much the same way as the squares of cloth the others were covering their noses and mouths with.
Ginny lost track of where Harry had gone. If he was smart, he would stay back at the door and simply listen to whatever was being said. A more realistic voice in Ginny's mind guessed that he had actually slipped off to find the best possible view that he could. For all she knew, he was already standing at the foot of her bed.
As Pomfrey led them closer to the girl's bed, a second wizard stepped out of Pomfrey's office to give them a disapproving glare. After walking over to the isolated bed and waving his wand over the girl, he frowned and turned about, walking back to the office.
The closer they got, the more anxious she got. She kept telling herself that Josef knew what he was talking about and he hadn't said that he believed she truly had a new disease. And yet, the best Healers in Britain had been unable to figure out what had happened.
As she stepped closer to the foot of the bed, she began to understand. Ginny had seen Colin Creevey when he had been petrified. It had looked as though he had simply been frozen in place. They had said that Miraphora was nearly petrified, and now she would see why they had made the distinction. In truth, Ginny didn't expect that she would be laying in bed, just as frozen as Colin had been. She had been expecting the girl to be pale or sickly and lying peacefully on the bed. The reality was so much more troubling.
Miraphora's skin was indeed quite pale. Like Ginny, she had bright red hair, with naturally pale skin. Now, its color had become more like smooth alabaster. Had that been the only change it might have been disconcerting enough. However, there was something else which made Ginny slow her pace.
She had noticed it on the girl's arm first. It was laying limply at her side, uncovered by the sheets. Stretching down her arm were lines of smoky blue, like dark cracks of color through white marble. Her fingernails were a deep violet. Ginny ignored the clenching of her stomach and followed Madam Pomfrey closer.
When she saw Miraphora's face, she felt her throat tighten until it was nearly choking her. The girl's face was mostly pale like the rest of her skin, but her eyes were sunken and ringed in deep crimson. Her lips, too, were a grotesque mixture of red and purple. The dominating feature of her face, however, was her forehead.
The small patch of skin between and just above her eyes had turned an alarmingly dark shade of grey. The dark veins of color seemed to originate there before spidering across her head and down her neck.
"What happened to her?" gasped Hermione.
"We don't know," answered Madam Pomfrey. "We cannot find any spell, potion, venom or cursed object which has been shown to cause effects anything like this."
Ginny forced herself to take a closer look. There was something even more bizarre about the girl's lips. Unlike the rest of her, they seemed to be trembling slightly. There was no other movement in her face, not even the faintest twitch of an eyelid.
"She started doing that yesterday," commented Pomfrey. "We thought she might have been getting better, but at the time, her veins were only faintly blue. By yesterday afternoon, her fingernails had turned the color they are now. Nothing we gave her was even able to slow it down."
Hermione leaned closer to the girl's face. "Lupin said she was doing something like that when he found her. It probably doesn't mean anything."
"Perhaps not," Madam Pomfrey replied, "but unless I'm terribly mistaken, I think she's trying to say something."
"This whole time?" asked McGonagall. "Do you think she is trying to tell us who attacked her?"
"It's more than that," Pomfrey answered hesitantly. "At times, I would have sworn that I heard her speak from across the room, but as soon as I walked closer all I could hear was incoherent whisperings."
"Instead of trying to cure her, perhaps you might simply try to find something that would help her speak," suggested the Headmistress. "If she could tell us who attacked her or how it was done,"
"We have tried everything, Minerva. We had to stop trying. We have given her so many potions that we've been forced to keep track of all the ingredients we're using. Late last night, we discovered that all the Mandrake we had given her was beginning to become toxic. Even now, she's had disturbing amounts of nightshade. Any more and its effects might become irreversible." Madam Pomfrey paused and looked at the Headmistress. "Though I must admit, we have considered doing just that."
"You want to kill her?" gasped the Headmistress. "Poppy, I cannot allow you to even consider—"
"No!" hissed Pomfrey with a sudden urgency, "Not to kill her! No, to pacify her."
"If she was any more passive—"
"That's just it, Minerva," Madam Pomfrey whispered, "We don't think she truly is. When she was first brought in, there were three other students in here with her. One of them had broken his leg on one of those bloody trick stairs. The other two said they had burned themselves doing homework for their potions class. While I was mending the leg of the one boy, I... just suddenly realized that the two others had actually been scalded when they had tried to sneak into Professor Stanton's office. The antidote required was quite different. The mistake would have been a painful one."
Professor McGonagall shook her head. "What are you talking about, Poppy? I don't see how this has anything to do with Miss—"
"Neither did I," Pomfrey relied. "I kept the three of them around to see that they healed up properly, and all that time my mind kept thinking things I might try to cure Miss Franklin —things I had never heard of, things I didn't even know names for." She tightened the cloth around her nose and mouth and lowered her voice.
"I thought I was imagining it. But I wasn't. I told him when he showed up—" she said with a nod to the St. Mungo's Healer in the office behind her "—and he said the same thing. But now he's doing it too. That's how we knew to stop giving her any potions using Mandrake. We were both making a Reawakening Draught when we just stopped suddenly, knowing that it would do more harm than good."
"Are you trying to tell us," whispered McGonagall, "that you believe she is the cause of this?" Madam Pomfrey nodded slowly. "She is a first year," scoffed McGonagall. "It's unlikely enough that she simply knows what Mandrake is, much less how much she could ingest before it became dangerous."
"I know that, but there is no other explanation. There is no one else in the wing. It cannot be either of us. I can't say how she knows these things. Somehow, she is able to know what we are thinking and put thoughts into our minds."
"What sort of disease would do that?" commented Ron. "It put her into some trance and taught her everything about Healing except how to heal herself? It's twisted."
"Yes, it is. I'm afraid—" She cast a glance back over her shoulder and dropped her voice again, so that it was barely audible. "I think it might be spreading to us. That is why I think you should stay away from her. However, I knew—" she paused to nod at the girl lying on the bed "—that you would not believe me until you saw her for yourself."
McGonagall stared at her for some time. "If this is true, then she must not stay here. I cannot endanger the lives of all the students—"
"St. Mungo's won't have her," hissed Pomfrey. "They've turned her away."
"They can't do that!" gasped Hermione. "Are they just going to let her lie here while they do nothing?"
"There is nothing to be done, Miss Granger," announced a weary voice from across the room. They all turned to see the Healer from St. Mungo's walking toward them. "St. Mungo's cannot risk causing an outbreak. They have already risked one Healer on this girl; they will not risk infecting any more."
"That's it, is it?" replied Ginny. "They can't cure her, so they'll ignore her, wait for her to die, and then forget it ever happened."
"In this case, it may be the most prudent thing to do," he said flatly. "There is little more we can do. The Healers are trying to find someplace isolated where we might move her, but until then, Hogwarts will remain her home."
"And her parents?" asked Hermione.
"They are being told right now," he said. "They may choose to see her for a short period of time. No longer than your visit, to be certain. I suspect it will be the only one. There is little hope for her. We've tried everything we know, and quite a few things we don't. She will never wake up."
"And what about the two of you?" McGonagall asked. Her expression was one of shock and dismay.
"I do not know," the Healer told her. "We will see if Poppy shows any signs of the disease. She said that Miss Franklin had been feeling ill for a few days before she lost consciousness. If I see any evidence that she might also be carrying the disease, then we will... proceed in a similar manner. Of course, I will record as much as possible for your investigation, Miss Granger."
Hermione ignored him. She was staring intently at Miraphora.
"Is there nothing that can be done?" asked Professor McGonagall. "Perhaps some other Healers have seen this. We cannot simply let this girl die."
"There is nothing else we can do, Minerva," said Madam Pomfrey. "We will keep trying, but I'm afraid the best we can hope to do is keep her in her current state. I haven't seen even the faintest twitch of her eyelids since Remus brought her down. That's no way for a girl to—"
"Look at this!" shouted Hermione over the discussion. "Come here! Her eyes! They're moving!"
Ginny and everyone else in the room stepped forward to get a better look at the girl's face. Just as Hermione had said, Miraphora's eyes seemed to be moving. The lids were still closed, but even they were fluttering lightly. Other than the random quivering of her lips, the rest of her body remained as still as ever.
After almost a minute of tense waiting, Madam Pomfrey pulled her wand from her robes and slowly passed it over the girl's body. "I don't understand it," she whispered. "She should be dead. There's nothing—" Her voice was cut short as Miraphora's head jerked slightly on its pillow. The muscles in her jaw were tensing.
"Miss Franklin!" called Madam Pomfrey. "Can you hear me?" She slowly reached forward and grabbed the girl's shoulder. In an instant, Miraphora's eyes were open. Madam Pomfrey let out a shriek as she recoiled in fear.
Ginny found herself staring into a pair of featureless eyes which looked as though they had been filled with the blackest ink. They stared back at her, showing no sign of movement or emotion.
The room was getting warmer, but Ginny's blood felt icy. Everyone had frozen. Ron had pulled his wand from his pocket. Hermione had pressed her hand against her mouth. The girl's mouth opened, drawing in a long, rattling breath. Still staring at Ginny with unblinking eyes, her mouth opened.
She began speaking with a slow, deliberate voice, but the sounds coming out of her mouth were not from any language Miraphora Franklin could have known. Only a few wizards could have understood her, but Ginny had heard it often enough to recognize it almost immediately.
She was speaking Parseltongue, and though Ginny couldn't translate it, it was familiar to her. She had heard Harry saying the same thing in his sleep only one day ago.
The moment the girl had opened her eyes, a sharp stabbing pain had sliced through Harry's head. He had barely choked back a startled shout. The pain was not the worst he had felt, but he had been completely unprepared for it.
He had stepped forward, heedless of the possibility of others hearing his footsteps. He crept up behind Ginny, never taking his eyes from the glassy black eyes of Miraphora Franklin. What happened to her? he asked himself. He felt his heart racing and his breathing quickening. Something is wrong, his mind screamed. He watched her mouth open and he knew what she would say before the hissing even began.
Across the endless wastes and timeless sands
Born of atrocity and boundless pain...
Harry began backing away. He suddenly felt very exposed. Her eyes had no pupils and yet he knew beyond any doubt that she could see him. She knew he was there. He stumbled, but caught himself before he fell. He couldn't stay. He had to leave. He had to get away.
He began walking toward the door. A voice in his head told him to stay. It told him that Miraphora would answer whatever questions he had. She would help him. She would keep Ginny safe.
Ginny.
Harry's eyes searched wildly for her. She too seemed to be searching for something. The last bit of color drained from her face as the girl continued hissing the same words Harry had heard so many times:
With vengeance, rage, and eternal hate
I come to claim what I have been denied
"Ginny?" Ron called out. "Is something wrong?"
"I— I have to go..." she mumbled.
"Why? What is it?" he asked.
"I... I can't be here," she said with greater urgency. "I need to leave. Right now!"
Harry was already walking quickly toward the door, but Ginny closed the distance in just a few seconds and passed by him with a rush of air. Taking this as a cue, he turned and ran after her. She struck the door seconds ahead of him, quickly turning the knob and heaving it open just in time for Harry to dash through the opening.
Now that Harry was out of the hall, he lost all desire to get any nearer to Miraphora Franklin. He only wanted to run, to escape. He ran down the corridor, hearing the loud sounds of Ginny's shoes running behind him.
"Harry!" she called out in a breathy voice.
Harry slowed abruptly and turned around. Ginny was doubled over in the middle of the corridor, gasping for breath.
"Are you alright?" he whispered, as he walked back toward her. He quickly checked the corridor for any other wizards, but saw no one. "Why did you run?"
She took a few deep breaths and looked up at him. "I ran because I knew you would. What she said... I've heard it before, haven't I?"
"Yeah."
Ginny nodded and continued breathing. "What does it mean?" she asked. "What did she say? What have you been dreaming of? Why won't you tell me?"
Harry didn't know what to say. He wanted to tell her, but he couldn't. He trusted her, and yet, he didn't even know what it meant. He had been convinced it was just a trick of Grigore's, but Grigore was dead now. "I will, I promise," he told her, though he didn't want to think of just when he would fulfill that promise. "Now isn't the right time. It's... complicated."
"How complicated can it be?" she pressed. "It was Parseltongue, wasn't it? You can still understand it. It must mean something."
"It was just the same thing I always hear in my dreams. It's nothing. It's just the same old thing, over and over." He paused for a moment, during which time Ginny seemed to be waiting for him to tell her exactly what he'd heard. He decided to change the subject. "When you go back to the Ministry, ask Josef if everything is going all right at the Castle. Ask him if there are any problems with attacks or Brotherhood members who don't seem to be happy with the recent changes."
Ginny's mouth fell into a confused frown. "You think the Brotherhood is involved?"
"You said it yourself," he said in an even tone, "you've heard it before. I didn't have those dreams before I met Grigore and the Brotherhood. Maybe Josef knows why that might be."
"Maybe it's nothing," she suggested. "You heard Madam Pomfrey. Whatever is happening, it's making her read the thoughts of everyone in the room. Maybe she just read your memories and was repeating them back."
"Yeah," he replied distractedly. "Maybe you're right. Maybe that's all it ever was. Still, I'd feel better if you asked him about it."
"Alright," she agreed. "Meet me at the main gates. Tonight. I'll come back at sunset. I'll see you then?"
"Yes," he said with an invisible nod.
"And Harry," she whispered, "promise me you won't go back to see her."
"Don't worry, I won't."
Author's Note:
Odd. This chapter was about to be cut off halfway through as well. My story hates itself. Its trying to make itself shorter. Oh well, it's fixed now.
Enjoy.
Oh, and I wanted to thank everyone for the reviews. It's nice to know the story is appreciated. I hope everyone continues to enjoy it. It's going to change and twist faster than you might expect.