DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.
A/N: Please review!
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The location was apt. That was one thing you could say. Despite the summer's day dying peacefully and being replaced with a cool evening breeze the zephyrs were even now being replaced by more sporadic gusts around the tombstones of and monument to those long gone.
People were arriving. Sometimes in ones or twos. Sometimes as groups of three or more. Some laughed and chattered; some stood solemn and grave as the grave. Others declared this would be their finest hour.
It was as if a ragged collection of loyal followers had assembled, unsure of the future that was to follow and waiting, waiting for an instruction, a sign. Waiting to find out what they had been called for. And this was exactly what it was. The Death Eaters had been Called. Those who had not been weak enough to be tempted were present. Present and waiting.
And listening.
Lord Voldermort, formerly Tom Marvolo Riddle, stood before his followers. He was not surprised when many of them wordlessly recoiled at his appearance. Even before he had been diminished four months before his faithful his façade had been grotesque. But that was irrelevant and he declared it so to the wizards and witches before him.
Voldermort could tell that many were uncomfortable. Ill at ease with the undeclared situation and the undisclosed arrangements. They didn't have to wait long. Murmurs and whispers of beliefs, guesses, ideas, theories, possibilities and suppositions were cut short when he spoke of the situation. A spell would be released. It was intended to kill him. Instead it would strengthen him.
In the living room of a large terraced house in the middle-to-west of London the location was vital. The night was already three hours begun and not all of their number was accounted for. The still, unnerving calm of the Order headquarters had begun to trouble some. One or two of them sat on the purple sofas clutching one another's hands. Others sat alone, in silent contemplation at what lay ahead. Groups formed and came apart like midsummer clouds exchanging words, one or two, or lengthy trade.
"…Harry'll take the potion…"
"…and cast the spell…"
On one of the contraband purple settees, probably not being sought any more by anyone from the Fayed family, Molly Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks hugged one another. The plan that had been shared a mere seventy-five minutes earlier was repeated between the two witches.
"And that'll be it," concluded Tonks quietly. "It's the waiting that's so difficult."
"I know, darling. When we're all together, we can do it." Mrs Weasley smiled weakly at the not-so-new Mrs Smith, looking past her and around the living room.
"Where's Sirius?"
"Here…"
The Death Eaters were still, silent. Waiting. Poised. Listening.
"One part of my soul is in the possession of our enemy. It will be released and will be strengthened. Dumbledore believes they have the last of my horcruxes and that I am to be brought down when this piece is returned to me. They think we are there to retrieve the prophecy so I can be sure my enemy is Harry Potter. In fact, it is the second-to-last horcrux. Another is hidden, far from the reach of any mortal.
I'll find the horcrux and release it, thought Sirius as more Order members arrived in his living room. Cecilia has the memory and she will have worked everything out. He nodded at Minerva McGonagall who drew together the witches and wizards bound together by nothing more than a promise to defeat Voldermort under the leadership of Albus Dumbledore.
"They'll not succeed," Voldermort added. His followers were not wholly convinced yet. "In order to become whole a person must return it to the surface!" They soon would be. "Now, are the muggle weapons present and checked?"
"What happens if they pull something new?" asked Tonks, her nerve on the brink of failing.
"Don't get upsettin' yerself." Mad-eye Moody winked his good eye in her direction, a hideous but comical sight.
"Does Snape have the potion now?" McGonagall nodded.
"He was working in it this evening, finishing it off when I floo'd him," confirmed Sirius.
"Leaving it a bit late," commented Bathsheba Braddle. Sirius nodded, his mind fixed on his own future.
"Have we got everybody?"
"…Pettigrew…Carrow…Carrow…Lestrange…Malfoy…" As he named the loyal few who had answered his Call Voldermort pondered over the name.
"Honoured, my Lord," replied Lucius Malfoy silkily, hoping the terrible wizard would not mention Draco.
"Your son failed, did he not, to unravel the so-called Universal Link?" Malfoy nodded, recalling in inexorable detail the punishment meted out to his son for his failure.
"And you have been working for the ministry?"
"Undercover," said Malfoy quickly, "in order to remain unobtrusive." He stepped forward from the circle that the Death Eaters had formed and addressed them, the ground firm but not soid underfoot. "And I think Draco's failure proves what wily games these muggles can play. That my son was not able to fulfil his task infers that it was an fair task for him to be asked to carry out.
In the darkness, illuminated only by a ghoulish green glow overhead the Death Eaters' whispers fell to nothing and they became silent as the grave as they watched Lord Voldermort turn slowly to Lucius Malfoy.
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The plan was simplest. And of course, the simplest is the best. Wizards just did not know how to defend themselves against certain weapons…
He had gone through a few of them to try that out; the money laundered through companies had allowed him to. At first he had laughed. Surely that couldn't be. That was the only difference?
As his understanding had grow he had discovered it was slightly more complicated than that, the effect of the weapons varying according to the person and the situation. Muggle-borns, for example, would at least be familiar with some and may be more likely to know how to act.
And, as he delved more deeply he had laughed at the similarities, provided by several unwitting volunteers he came to the conclusion that there was nothing that muggles knew, nothing they had that wizards didn't know already. The only difference was that it was wrapped up and packaged differently.
Now he would wait. The followers of Voldermort would be assembling now. When he was contacted his section of the plan would be put into place. But that was for the future, not for now. What he needed to do now was to wait.
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Several hours earlier and the following information was imparted.
"I am surprised that you are here before me, Severus Snape." Lord Voldermort, diminished, grotesque and malformed rose from his crumpled position on the floor of the muggle warehouse. He had barely flickered when Snape had appeared before him. Snape knew however by the minute pause his arrival was unexpected.
"I have some information for you. Something you have been searching for." Snape rooted his feet to the ground and stared at the wizard in front of him. Within hours one of two pathways would be trodden: the Dark Lord would be restored to his full and terrible glory or he would be reduced to nothing. Either way, the wizard needed to know the truth. The future depended on it.
"The Universal Link connects the energy we have to that which makes us magical." He shifted from one foot to another. "There is a range of power, which filters right down to the lowliest, stoical muggle." Onto the floor caked in decades of grime, dirt, and oil Snape threw a parchment. Voldermort followed the arc of the parchment's transit, staring at it for a moment as it landed three feet away from Snape. He felt his lips curl up at the corners, mocking his ex-master momentarily.
"There is likely to be the most variation of power in muggle-borns; half blood wizards are likely to be the most powerful…more powerful than purebloods. Purebloods are the most consistent."
"Ah…"
Snape fought to keep down the satisfaction he was feeling at the victory. He watched as Lord Voldermort scrabbled on the filthy floor for the parchment, unpeeling it and unfurling it with gnarled, wizened digits.
"Ah…" The Dark Lord looked at his former servant and raised what appeared to be an eyebrow. "I know this magic…auld magic. The energy that you describe…it's the same channel with which auld magic works…good…good!" He twisted his gruesome features into what appeared to be a smile. Snape's satisfied smile fell to nothing.
"Draco Malfoy may have failed you but he did not fail."
"And why are you interested, Severus Snape? Do you think that I do not know that you are hand in pocket with Dumbledore? I granted you immunity for the sake of your previous loyalty, one which was never in question. I am a benevolent Lord."
"I am interested for the sake of the potion."
"That which Harry potter will imbibe…" Voldermort laughed, a hollow, twisted sound. Snape baulked but said nothing. Instead he nodded.
"Potter is keen to honour the muggle Cecilia Frobisher. His faith in me is somewhat lacking."
"He is not as naïve as he would seem then, Snape," laughed Voldermort.
"He has no choice." Snape broke off and watched Voldermort read through the details on the page again. He knew the Dark Lord would not acknowledge the unsettledness that Snape knew he was feeling.
"Good," mused Voldermort, smiling again. "Good…muggle science…" But then his expression changed and a cold breeze whipped through the dank basement. "You are not here as my ally, Snape."
"No indeed." Severus Snape stared at the grotesque form before him. "The information I have given to you, does it not worry you?" Voldermort laughed again.
"That purebloods are not the most powerful? Ha! I have long known it. I saw it as my duty to set that right. By eliminating all others..."
"Many of those who follow you will desert you when the time is right. The information I have given to you is the basis for Harry Potter's potion with which he will challenge and defeat you."
The inclination of the wand came all too late. Snape was gone leaving behind nothing that would prove he was ever there.
And then the potion was ready. Snape had put down the paper that he had received from Sirius Black via the floo network. How the Marauder had come across this information in amongst everything else that was at Grimmauld Place Snape didn't have time to contemplate but several channels had led him to the correct blend. Nevertheless he had it.
Through the potions classroom window he saw a figure make its way up the steep path that led to the castle. Snape watched Tabitha Penwright plod slowly, her hair tousling in the soft breeze, back to her guard duty. Filling up the two potion bottles, one with the match and the other with the base Snape waited for her to pass by the classroom door before he engaged her help in the battle.
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Three.
Three seconds. Three minutes. Three hours. Three Days.
Three years.
Remus Lupin watched the dull grey sky become interspersed with contrasting paler and darker shades. Azkaban Prison was worse than he had ever imagined.
Sirius Black had described to him the horror that was imprisonment there, on a magically concealed complex in the middle of the North Sea with dementors as prison warders. He had, of course, listened to him, sympathised and comforted. But it wasn't until now, imprisoned for a crime he had not committed and feeling guilt for the crime that he had, that Remus Lupin could actually empathise with his friend.
It was a humiliating feeling; it was designed to be. The block in which he had been placed along with all of the other half breeds was in a separate part to the other magical criminals. Screams rebounded day and night back and forth along the corridors and even a heavy sleeper like Remus found it difficult to come to terms with the constant feeling of emptiness, as if he was being drained of every happy feeling and memory.
Three.
The time was indecipherable using the usual means of estimation. Apart from getting noticeably darker for periods of time it was impossible to determine how long he had been in prison. Remus was beginning to wonder whether he could bear the isolation much longer.
And then it started.
Ministry Aurors began marching down the corridors. Prisoners, some of whom Remus recognised as having been transported with him to the gaol were being led out, walking in lines, heads bowed and, as Remus, beclothed in the striped fabric of a prisoner. It wasn't long before an Auror, an older witch who had accompanied them to Azkaban, inserted a large key into the lock, allowing it to clank open before pushing open the iron barred door back on itself.
"Come." A hint of a motherly gesture in the inclination of her hand stirred comforting memories in Remus and he walked out, glancing up and down the corridor and taking in the sight of other prisoners being escorted from their cells.
A glimmer of hope began to rise in Remus's stomach as the door to which they were being guided appeared to be the entrance through which they had all trooped so long ago.
"We're free," he whispered to himself as the line came to a halt, its course passing through the doorway and beyond. "They're going to let us go."
At the front of the line a couple of Aurors exchanged a few words, one passing to the other what looked like a handful of watercress. The receiving Auror stuffed it inside his robe. It wouldn't do for the half breeds to see the flixweed, panic and cause chaos. No. Far better for them to believe they were going to their liberty rather than their doom.
A knot formed in his stomach. Three days the prisoners had been there. Two of those days they had been incarcerated, fed and watered and guarded by the dementors. The howls, screams, roars and baying had been bad enough. And then they had had the message that the half breeds were to be…exterminated.
The Auror looked along the row of people. To an untrained eye it was just a line of witches and wizards, a little rough and ready around the edges due to the ordeal of their incarceration. Wizards and witches with hidden secrets. That was why they were dangerous. The Auror who had handed him the bunch of flixweed tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a small slip of parchment before returning to his desk at the entrance of the prison. The Auror unfolded it, before nodding to himself. The eradication had been ordered the day before. Then, as now, a line of people had snaked down the corridor on the floor above.
They were all humble, walking in pairs to meet their death when he had opened the gates at the front of the prison as sheep to slaughter. They queue moved slowly forward; the first pair had been herded onto the narrow boat at the entrance. Where moments before there had been expressions of hushed hope, once the boat was full and he had stood before them there had been complete silence, not a word, a cry, a groan as he had distributed leaves of the flixweed plant.
The Auror ignored the knot of disgust that was building up inside his stomach. Had the witches and wizards lined up before him now been in their animal form he had no doubt it would have made the task much easier. He crossed to the desk and handed the note back to the Auror who had given it to him. Archie Busby was, as ever, nonchalantly reading the "Daily Prophet", masticating on some gum. He took the note from the Auror without saying anything, pulling his legs from the desk and opening a drawer. The Auror read the front headline, taking in the story of the day as Busby handed him a key.
The Auror turned. It was time. He looked at the wizards at the front of the queue, hope reflecting in his eyes as the exit of the prison. A stab of humanity pricked his cerebellum and he fought the urge to scream at the prisoners, the sheep standing placidly in line, waiting for hope to become real.
"You all are going to be killed in ten minutes, do you realise that?! So go and fight for yourselves!" The Auror screamed at the half breeds silently in his mind. "Kill me and take the boat! You shouldn't have to put up with this!"
But no. He had seen it the day before. Once the prisoners knew what was to come they lapsed into apathy; all they want is to put an end to their waiting, to be put to death as soon as possible. That was the result of the Dementors, even after three days, their efficient leeching of happy emotions leaving behind constant torment.
Another Auror tapped him on the shoulder. Geraint Jones flicked a smile in his direction and led him to one side, away from the condemned.
"I'll do this, Filby." Geraint put a friendly hand on the Auror's shoulder. "You get to the back of the queue. We needed help there yesterday. I can handle the weed."
The Auror didn't wait to be told twice. What he had experienced the day before was enough to traumatise him for the rest of his life. Tapping Geraint on the shoulder and flashing his friend a grateful smile he jogged to the inner doorway and along the corridor.
The commotion that had been in progress being handled incompetently by Moira Rigglesworth came to a halt as the Auror approached, wand in hand. The prisoners at the end of the queue, agitated no doubt by the waiting had chosen, as had those at the back of the queue the day before, to pick fights with one another. On seeing the Auror they fell silently back into line, heads bowed. Remus Lupin, standing motionless a few places ahead turned and looked at the Auror.
"Everything OK?" Moira nodded, relief etched on her face. She shouldn't have been there, thought the Auror. But in times such as those the Ministry had to use what they had available.
"I thought you were with the boat," replied Moira. A few of the agitators turned and looked at the Aurors, hope infiltrating the line as the words were repeated Chinese-whisper style before an awkward silence returned to the
"They're honouring the muggle," commented the Auror as the queue began to move. "The one who theorised about a link between them and us?" Moira nodded. It had barely been out of the newspapers that week.
"Yes, they're naming a bravery medal after her." The Auror shook his head. "What a way to go, not even being able to see the Dementor…" He trailed off when he realised that several of the prisoners were listening to their conversation who turned back to face the direction in which they were going.
"I heard that she said she loved someone," replied Moira conversationally. All bar one. Remus Lupin continued to stare at the Aurors, his ears pricked and alert. ""I love you." That's what she said."
And then the line began to move again, not sporadically as it had been earlier but slowly and steadily. Remus felt his heart jerk as he thought about his deceased Cecilia and, tilting his head to the ceiling whispered to the dark black stones from which it was constructed.
"Cecilia. Please know that I remember you, and I'll never forget you, and maybe one day I'll avenge your death. You were my first true love, and I have the sweetest and purest memories of you. You were my ideal, and I'm sure I will never find anyone like you. I love you too."
As the doorway towards the exit of the prison loomed ahead, the darkness of the night striding into the building Remus fell silent and focused his mind on the future.
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They landed in Bedford Street in the centre of London. It had been a bumpy and uncomfortable descent; clearly Snape was out of practise when it came to lightweight airborne transport resulting in Tabitha having had to hold onto the wizard again so that she didn't come off. The street was deserted, unusual for a London street even a two-thirty in the morning.
"There." Tabitha pointed to the barely visible entrance that could easily have been a coincidental arrangement of stones in the wall of one of the buildings. Snape nodded and handed her the broom which she collapsed, making it half the size before stepping lightly towards the wall. Removing her wand she swiftly traced the outline of the wall which illuminated with bluish-white light before becoming physical, the door studded with iron and brass.
Tabitha felt a mixture of emotions as she pushed open the door of the employee entrance, holding it open for Snape to walk past her before walking through herself. Behind her the door swung shut and sealed itself with its usual swishing noise. They were inside the Ministry for Magic. She and Severus Snape whom she, Tabitha Penwright, had been in the embryonic process of admiring. She and the Death Eater.
"Come on," said Tabitha as Snape raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Through here." They made their way through to the foyer, the hub of the Ministry and Tabitha allowed the betrayal that she felt through Snape's lies and deception to filter at last into her brain. Throughout the journey she had been planning what to do when she got to the Ministry. Her faith had been crushed when she had spied his weal and she saw at last the fabrications he, Dumbledore, the children and even her cousin Sturgis had weaved with her naïvety. Not any more. Now she was in control.
Tabitha looked around the foyer. The place was deserted, not even Fyon Green, the small wizard on night duty was at his desk. That was most unusual, Tabitha thought. Fyon did the night shift…he was always there.
"We'll go down to the Department," said Tabitha, pointing in the direction of the deep-shafted lift, the only one which reached those deep floors. "That's where you said they might be?"
"Indeed." Snape nodded and followed her. A small victory, thought Tabitha as she pressed the button for her floor. On their way to the Ministry Snape had told her partially of Dumbledore's plan. Clearly he believed her to be still duped by everything, something Tabitha was keen to propagate. As long as Snape believed she was on his side she was safe.
But…she had to get to someone fast, to talk to them or inform them about what she knew. She tried not to think about how stupid she had been that a Death Eater had convinced her to go along with Dumbledore's plan. The sooner she let the authorities knew the sooner she would feel less foolish. Clearly she had been green, but now she knew she had to oppose Dumbledore and whatever plan he had put in place.
"Come on," said Snape as the lift dropped to the bottom floor. "We have to find the children."
"Why?" Tabitha paused in her exit of he lift and stared at Snape, an air of innocence in her tone."
"When we find them we'll find the battle. But first…" He swung Tabitha round so that she was facing him in the dark obsidian-black corridor and placed a hand on each shoulder. "There's something I must tell you."
Like the discourse he had had with his former master Severus Snape revealed to Tabitha Penwright the true nature of the Universal Link, explaining the intricacies that not he but Cecilia Frobisher had uncovered, how the theory of the link they had used to concoct Harry's potion. How each wizard was different, and their powers dependent not only on birth but by emotions. Tabitha shook he head in disbelief. The man was standing there, sharing precisely everything that she had been sent to Hogwarts to discover for the Ministry. She supposed that she should have been grateful but months of enduring lies and deceit, insolence from children and misdirection from colleagues had turned the gratitude to bitterness.
And then Tabitha Penwright stood still as Snape leaned further forward, looking her in the eye. He was heartened that she had chosen to assist him, and that she would be an asset to the rebellion and it took every ounce of strength that she had to prevent herself from betraying the knowledge she had inadvertently acquired.
"So, who is in this rebellion?" asked Tabitha as Snape took his hands from her shoulders and straightened up. "Apart from yourself, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and my cousin?"
"Several dozen," replied Snape, smiling a little. "We have been active since the first uprising from the Dark Lord. Sturgis as you say; Minerva McGonagall; many of the Weasley family; Sirius Black – "
"Sirius Black?! The murderer?" Tabitha's tone was a mixture of disbelief and incredulousness. "Are you sure?"
"He is innocent," Snape replied. "It is another who follows the Dark Lord who committed the crimes for which Black was found guilty." Tabitha closed her eyes and then opened them again, filing the information for future use.
"So, you think they're here? In the Department of Mysteries?" Snape nodded. "Why?"
"That I cannot discuss, Miss Penwright. Sufficed to say that it is here where the action will take place." He frowned when he saw Tabitha shake her head.
"It's a huge department," she commented, beginning to move towards her office. "You could be here for days searching for them, especially if they've found their way into the mysteries." She pushed open the door and held it open for Snape.
"Look, let's split up. We'll cover more ground if we do. I'll search here. The unspeakable office is that way." Snape nodded as Tabitha moved towards a second inner door, the key for which she retrieved from the bottom of one of the filing cabinets. "It's this way."
But Snape did not move. Tabitha felt her heart beat faster as he stared at her slowly. Now's the time, she thought, panic beginning to build in her chest. This is the moment where I'm done for. The Death Eater's going to kill me.
"Might I use your fireplace before I go exploring in there?"
With an inner sigh of relief Tabitha proffered the fireplace in her office and she retired to her desk, far enough away so that Snape could carry out his conversation in semi-privacy. She looked over some transcripts of interviews which somehow had made their way onto her desk for some reason, her ear half on the conversation that Snape was having with another wizard informing them that he was at the ministry and that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna had taken brooms and had come here. She also heard him add that the plan was in motion and the potion was made.
"Thank you," said Snape eventually, getting up awkwardly from the fireplace. "If you Tabitha, as you say, look around here I'll be in there searching." Nodding briefly Snape marched over to the door which Tabitha had unlocked, thrust it open and then banged it closed as he walked though it.
Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief. Getting to her feet she re-locked the door that led to the Unspeakables' department. Snape would certainly be able to get out when he realised what she had done but it might just slow him down enough.
What to do, what to do, Tabitha thought, running through her list of limited options. Stooping by the fireplace herself she reached for the floo powder in the cup to the right of the fireplace, casting some of it into the grate. Bending low she willed herself to see the living room that she recognised so very well, that of her family home, of her mother. She was not there. Neither it seemed, when she repeated the process for her brother, was Robert.
For Robert she left a brief message that she wanted to speak to him in the floo network. She knew how much he hated that, more the surprise he explained rather than the magic but in times like those needs must.
Getting to her feet she thought back to what Snape had told her about the Universal Link how, in order to defeat Voldermort Harry Potter's energy levels would be reduced when he took the potion in order for the spell to work. His magic was concentrated, focused on one single point and in doing so, Snape had informed her, essentially stripping him of all other abilities and changing his magical profile. It was only then he could use the spell to defeat You-Know-Who.
Once the words had crystallised in her mind Tabitha knew what it was she must do. No longer a fool relying on her family for answers she would save what she could of wizard society by stopping the rebellion. Her note was brief and specific. Sitting at her desk with a sheet of parchment in front of her Tabitha wrote down all that Snape had told her including what he had discussed about Harry Potter.
"It is believed that the battle will be taking place in the Lower Chamber, the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore and his rebellion of wizards will be there. Five children including Harry Potter will be there. Severus Snape is a Death Eater. Sirius Black alive and will be there. That Harry Potter will use a potion designed to remove his powers and the Avada Kedavra curse to challenge and try to defeat Voldermort I believe is actually a ruse."
Sealing the letter up Tabitha signalled for a post imp. A streak of dark blue appeared within seconds and the tiny creature appeared on her desk, its arms folded. Clearly she had disturbed its sleep and it wasn't very happy about it.
Picking up her quill again she wrote down the name of her friend and colleague Vincento and instructed the imp to give it to her owl, Breen, for urgent delivery.
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Another thing about latent floo messages. If they are read after the time they are made, as in the case of the one intended for Fred and George, they would remain in the grate in which they were discovered until removed. Clearly the Weasley twins did not know this, nor did they subsequently find out about it. As a result the headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry came across three pieces of valuable information.
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He couldn't rest. The thought of Cecilia Frobisher sitting in his father's study helping him solve his mission that was his tormented him. He wasn't afraid of death. In fact, he was all too ready to embrace it. That had been before Mrs Frobisher had turned up on his doorstep.
All too readily feelings that he'd long ago forgotten had been stirred. At first he had hated her, resented having to give her house room. When she left for Hogwarts his hatred had turned to fascination. He had spied on her; he'd seen her with her with her defences down. Her triumphs and vulnerabilities, all shared with her four walls with no idea that she was being overheard. He'd seen her undress and glimpsed her naked. He'd watched her choose appropriate attire for teaching, breakfast and the ball. His study was the window on her world. And now she was no more than fifty feet away from her, she who was making him realise that life was worth living, despite all he had endured, after all.
The Order had come and gone. The wizards and witches had assembled, all in line with Dumbledore's plan that Minerva McGonagall had finally shared with them all. As per the plan he had remained behind, under the pretext of still being sought by the Ministry and thus risking the mission.
Sirius had told Cecilia about this part of the plan too. She had been sitting in his father's chair, her legs folded under her in the same way he had seen her so many times in her room at Hogwarts or in the Muggle Studies classroom. They had chatted momentarily and it was clear to him that Cecilia wanted to be left alone. That is when he had told her about the expedition that he and Remus had taken during the lunar eclipse; how he had been with him when he had endured such agony and described his symptoms.
Cecilia had been pained as he indicated how his friend had suffered. Cecilia had told her how wonderful that, as the first person to know about his lycanthropy, Remus had trusted him. Sirius had sighed. Actually, he'd confessed, it hadn't been him who Remus had first confided. Cecilia had smiled. It didn't matter now, she'd said…
…he'd looked so old and tired, as if resigned to what lay ahead. And then he had gone, telling her to wake him when she was finished.
And then, almost without realising it Cecilia Frobisher, she had done it.
Sirius's bedroom was actually much smaller than it appeared. In the centre on the farthest wall a huge Victorian wooden bedframe loomed, over-large and emerging from the darkness as a frigate out of the mist. She closed the door behind her barring the light from the landing entry and looked around at the room's furnishings. Ripped curtains, a smashed dressing table and torn carpet. Much like the rest of the house but more than a bit of a state.
Picking her way across the room over piles of debris Cecilia approached the bed. At first she thought she was mistaken: the tiny figure lying in the large bed surely couldn't be Sirius Black. The person looked tiny within the covers and, as it moved the light of the waning moon reflected off his face. Sirius Black was asleep
Several hours before the quietness that was within this room did not exist, either with herself, with Sirius or with the Order below but now the stillness that prevailed began to unnerve Cecilia. She had never seen him asleep before and in front of her eyes the glamour of strength and cock-sureness gave way to vulnerability.
Cecilia sat down on the edge of the bed, her heart melting at the sight of the sleeping wizard. She had to take pity on Sirius. What he'd been through in his life, all that potential wasted…
he wouldn't be coming back from the Ministry for Magic, that was one thing he hadn't told her earlier but one thing which was evident in the information he had given to her.
Nevertheless that was irrelevant now. What mattered was getting to the Ministry and putting into place the plan carefully constructed by Dumbledore. Cecilia had done it, she had confirmed the plan and had come to tell him so.
Cecilia looked at Sirius again. He looked so peaceful, like Remus when he was asleep; when his moustache bristled with his breath. Sirius's moustache was moving too and Cecilia leaned forward, closer to Sirius intent on placing her hand on his arm. But stopped. From his lips mutterings were coming as if he was having a conversation with someone. She made to get up.
"Harry!" Sirius's shout made Cecilia freeze and she looked sharply at the wizard who, towards her extended hand enclosed her wrist in one of his hands. Cecilia sat down as Sirius called out more names, some from the past, others from the present.
"…Moony…"
Cecilia felt her wrist go limp as Sirius loosened his grip. It was then she realised that she had been crying as the wizard relived the names of his past. When it happened, she thought as Sirius turned under the ragged covers, when he woke there'd be no going back for either of them. There was no going back now. The stone had been laid; the train had left the platform. They had passed the Rubicon.
"…Cecilia…"
At her name Cecilia jerked her head in the direction of the sleeping wizard, watching him sigh in his sleep as he breathed. He looked so defenceless, so exposed…the names he spoke in his sleep begging to be put to rest…
She felt for him. She wanted him. Cecilia put her hands to her face as tears, like heavy raindrops fell onto the bedclothes. She could feel herself wanting him…there was so much that she was attracted to this man…if things were otherwise…if she'd never met Remus…she would have fallen for him, there was no doubt about that.
But…he wasn't Remus. Remus Lupin was her world. When she looked at him, all she could see was Remus…
Sirius moved in his sleep and the plan which Cecilia had pored over for hours crystallised in her mind. She put her hand forward knowing that when she woke him it would be the last time.
"Cecilia." Withdrawing her hand from his upper arm Cecilia nodded as she withdrew her hand. Sirius pulled himself up in bed, still clothed Cecilia noticed, and picked up his wand from the dressing table drawer.
"Lumos," he declared, flooding the room with a low light. "You've done it?" Cecilia shook her head, waiting for the inevitable crestfallen look that Sirius was about to give her. He didn't disappoint.
"No. Dumbledore did it he and whoever this is who wrote down this information. I've just confirmed it." Cecilia made to get up, he folded a hand around her wrist again and pulled her back down onto the bed and towards him.
"You're ready? You have worked out how to carry out the plan?" Again Cecilia shook her head.
"I…I've made my own plan," she qualified and outlined it in succinct detail. When she had finished she looked at Sirius. Cecilia had seen that look before. She tried to ignore it and focus on the plan. But Sirius continued to smile in confusion. Cecilia relented.
"It's exactly as was originally proposed," she explained, "but with one detail changed." Sirius leaned forward, his face level with hers.
"Which is…?"
"I'll tell you, but you need to take me there, Sirius." Cecilia sat stiffly as the wizard leaned back, interlocking his fingers over his head and shaking it, a look of horror contorting his face.
"I couldn't have you go...not there…not to that...besides we'd have to apparate and I can't risk it with you."
"I'd risk anything for him Sirius…you will have to trust me, or I will not tell you." Sirius leaned forward, his expression changing from one of horror to one of innocent imploring.
"Cecilia, I do trust you."
From her jacket pocket Cecilia removed the bottle in which Sirius had placed his memory and held it in front of him.
"Then we must go to the Department of Mysteries and to the Veil."
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A woman and man, her arms entwined round his waist as they soared through the environs of London. Her head pressed against his back as she focused on their destination and what was to come. He wove between objects: buildings, cars and pillar-boxes, his fate sealed.
Were this a different story, or had the tale intricately woven over these last three hundred or so pages taken a different turn it could quite easily be the signature image, the scene that defined this story. The two people who could quite easily have been lovers sitting close to one anther on an enchanted motorbike flying into the warm summer's night over Britain's capital.
This, however, is a different tale. It has been agonising for both the man and the woman. The world is waiting on the edge for what manifests in the next few hours deep under the city will affect all who live in it. The man and woman are desperate people relying solely on one another in order for their parts to be played.
Cecilia Frobisher and Sirius Black landed on the pavement in Bedford Street not far from where Tabitha Penwright and Severus Snape had landed half an hour before.
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They had floo'd from the pavement into the Department of Mysteries, a dangerous move, all things considered. This is what Cecilia had thought at any rate. Not so dangerous when one thing considered was that the place was empty of any Ministry wizards. This had been Sirius's self-assured proclamation. It was as it had been planned by Dumbledore. The Ministry was deserted.
"Come on," said Cecilia said determinedly as they made their way along several passageways before descending a few hundred steps deeper into the Ministry. But she needn't have worried: Sirius knew exactly where it was they were going…
…down to the Department of Mysteries on the lowest basement floor…along the obsidian-black stone-lined passage to the doors at the bottom…through a door marked "Mysteriours"…through yet another door into a place which seemed to be like a museum of curious and strange objects…
"Don't touch. You could go through and into any number of dimensions," warned Sirius as Cecilia strayed close to a gold-framed mirror.
"I thought that's what you'd planned to do, Sirius," she replied, the black humour hitting a nerve. Sirius flinched.
"How confident are you with this," he asked, ignoring her previous comment as the archway loomed into view.
"Why? What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted, peace and quiet in my life." A flicker of a memory replayed itself in Cecilia's mind. She recalled a memory, one that she had been privileged to see when she had been with Remus at Christmas. Sirius and James Potter, out Auroring. You never always wanted the peaceful life, Sirius.
…and then the archway with the veil hung inside it loomed into view like the Gothic arch of a church, but alone and separate. It was as if the other objects in this strange cavern-like place were afraid to go near it.
"The Veil in the Department of Mysteries. There," Sirius gestured. "I've brought you here. Now will you tell me about the plan, I can take you home and get started?" Cecilia shook her head.
"I'm not going anywhere. Even if you wanted to do this alone Sirius you need someone else to help you with the memory." She watched carefully as Sirius began to pace around the archway as if fascinated by the gently flapping fabric.
"You believe this will work?" Cecilia looked at him sharply.
"What Dumbledore planned…? Yes." She turned and looked around her, at the room lit with torches, at the objects that lay behind them though which they had walked. The Department of Mysteries. Through the passage beyond them lay more mysteries and it was clear from the document that the room, named the Room of Artefacts by the author that it spread for many square miles. From her jeans pocket Cecilia pulled the document that Sirius had given her. Whoever had written it was clearly an expert in all things mysterious and a part of Cecilia would have been quite happy to meet them.
"Are you ready? Look, the rope's there, just as it says." Cecilia stepped towards the left-hand corner of the archway. Just as it says…
The plan was this: Cecilia and Sirius were to secure the rope that lay to one side of the arch. By descending on the rope Sirius would be able to transcend the veil in which souls existed, their memories open like beads in a beanbag connected only by loose connectors, like strings. The strings formed in the aether, according to the document, connecting the memories with scenes that had passed in which the original soul had interacted, to some extent, like some huge climbing frame.
Sirius would drop his memory, which would connect to the network and he would be able to search for his brother, locate the horcrux and destroy it. By destroying it beyond the veil, this meant that this part of Voldermort's soul had never been removed and the part which the Order were going to release would be the only part needed to make Harry whole again. With the potion that he was to take Harry would be able to defeat a complete-souled Lord Voldermort and thereby ending the terror.
That was the plan. Correction: that was his plan. Cecilia's plan differed by one small detail.
"Are you are ready?" Cecilia knelt next to the rope waiting for Sirius to join her. But he hesitated and remained where he was.
"Come on Sirius," she called, getting to her feet and leaving the parchment with the plan upon it by the corner of the arch. "I can't do this on my own."
And then Sirius moved, a move that would change the life of his best friend forever. Kneeling where she had been moments ago Sirius looked at the rope, determining that it was the one he needed.
"Yes," he nodded. "Cecilia." He looked at her, the rope in hand and smiled. "Cecilia?"
"Sirius?"
Words, words that should never be spoken cascaded into his cerebellum from their dam that had held well for almost six months and he fought with his mouth to prevent them from being spoken. Words spoken could never be unsaid.
"Thank you," he managed. Cecilia smiled as Sirius neared the veil, looking towards it and seeming to focus on something. Then she could hear it too. Whispering, like a chatter, indistinct and vague, as if a group of many hundreds of people were together and they were standing far away. This is what she could hear.
"Sirius?" The wizard turned to Cecilia holding the rope in his hands ready to tie around his waist. "I'm going. That was the part of the plan I didn't tell you." Seizing the end of the rope from Sirius she took a few steps backwards and stood near the centre of the arch.
"Stop, Sirius," she demanded as he bore down on her. "Listen to me or the rope goes." She held it aloft and Sirius stopped, eyeing her mistrustfully.
"It won't harm me," Cecilia continued as Sirius stared back at her. "I can be sure of that. You…you didn't even want to tell me that for you it would be death. I'm a non-magical being. That's what's written there – " she pointed with her other hand at the document that lay near where the rope was previously coiled. "I know as much as you what needs to be done and I will be back."
All went quiet. The echoes of her declaration continued to die away in the domed area of the Room where the arch stood and for a moment Cecilia was sure Sirius was going to slap her. Then, before her eyes he sagged, the years of suffering he had endured seeming to catch up with him in a few seconds and became all too evident on his face as it wrinkled and twisted, taking in what she had said.
"Cecilia. I – " He broke off. "Why? It's dangerous enough. You may not be able to come back, we don't know that."
"Why?" Cecilia echoed, holding the rope tightly in her grasp and tears began to well in her eyes. "I want to kiss him, one last time, Sirius. I want to touch him and have him touch me. I want to feel him next to me again. And, if everything comes to pass as Dumbledore intends how am I going to explain to him that his best friend has gone? Much as he loves me, I'm not you. He needs his Devil's Advocate."
Again, her voice petered out, the echoes of her last few words reverberating around the chamber.
"Give me the memory." Sirius held out his left hand expectantly and Cecilia reached into her cardigan pocket. The bottle was as he had given it to her, his memory, the specific one required to detect his brother at a certain place in time which he had enchanted from his mind almost twelve hours before. Then he took the rope from Cecilia's unresisting grip and encircled her waist with it before pulling out his wand.
"Colloreparus!" He pointed it at the rope whose end suddenly wove itself into the binding of the rest of the rope, tightening just enough around Cecilia's waist to be comfortable without being too tight. "Pull on it," he encouraged and Cecilia took the loop of rope and tugged. It seemed perfectly secure.
"Look, we haven't got much time," Sirius continued, stopping Cecilia, who was about to say something, in her tracks. "I was about to go. It's going to take some time to locate the horcrux."
"Two things Sirius, in case for some reason I don't come back." He gave her a stern look and Cecilia had the good grace to look embarrassed. She reached into her pocket.
"Give this to Severus." Into his hand Cecilia thrust the parchment that she had showed him all those hours ago before grabbing chain form round her neck, breaking it at the catch. "For Remus's cure. Severus'll need his DNA. Inside here is some of our hair entwined. It should be enough." Sirius nodded mutely.
"I understand why you didn't tell me, all those weeks ago, about the Lunar eclipse…you're his friend first and foremost, Sirius." But the wizard shook his head.
"I don't think I could have done as much for him as you did," he replied. "You're the very best thing that's ever happened to Moony."
And then, without warning Cecilia put a hand behind his head and lowered it towards hers. She pressed her lips against his, shyly at first. Sirius pulled her closer and supported her back, leaning over her and continued to kiss her, something he had dreamed of doing since the last time. He broke off suddenly when he felt dampness on her cheeks.
"Give that to Remus," Cecilia whispered. "Tell him…I'm doing this because I love him." The kiss, loving and tender, encored in her mind, her desire to snuggle up to Mr. Snuffles one that she had to put out of her mind. She was going. No-one was going to stop her.
She turned and faced the direction they had come and felt her foot against the edge of the archway. The cloth fluttered and flapped behind her, almost in expectation, as if it could detect her there.
"Cecilia." She turned and smiled at Sirius. This time it was her turn to stop him saying the words of protest that she could see on his face. His silver tongue would talk her out of it, that she was sure.
"Go. Once you've dropped the memory go to wherever the battle is and help your godson. Once things going to unfold there's going to be nothing anyone can do stop them."
"Hope."
"Only hope."
Grasping the rope tightly in her hands Cecilia leaned backwards, as if abseiling, and started to walk backwards, resisting the urge to hug Sirius one last time. He stood in front of her, saying and doing nothing at all, watching her descend and become engulfed in the swirling gaseous abyssness.
Sirius would have stood there a lot longer had not the course of events swung another way. Behind him he heard footsteps and he swung around.
"Snape!"
"Black!"
"Severus." Sirius changed his defensive tone, honed over the years and began to practise his newly-derived appeasing one. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you much the same but seeing that you are standing by the Veil and holding a memory bottle I can only assume that it is a hitherto secret plan arranged between you and Dumbledore to which no-one else was privy and upon which the whole of the battle hinges." Sirius stared back at Snape in astonishment before the realisation that the wizard was being sarcastic permeated his mind.
"It doesn't matter about that now." He thrust into his hand the necklace and Cecilia's own discourse with enough information to make the cure for Remus. Snape opened the paper and glanced over it before looking mistrustfully at Sirius.
"Cecilia Frobisher wrote this." Sirius said nothing. "Cecilia Frobisher is dead." At his last assertion Snape looked more carefully at his ex-adversary, who shook his head momentarily. "Cecilia's alive?" He took a step towards Sirius. "You didn't tell me that when you gave me the bundle of notes," he thundered.
"You didn't notice that it was altered? Who else could have managed that? Besides you didn't tell me where you took her when the Ministry found her at Remus's!"
"Where is she? What are you doing here? The Dark Lord will be here momentarily, as will the Order. Black, where is Cecilia?" Briefly, Sirius told Snape of the plan, including the small but vital change in the details.
"And you allowed her to? How long before the glamour wears off?"
"She went to give her life before, Snape." Sirius stood his ground as Snape advanced.
"But this changes everything, this is forever. There are no guarantees that she will come back."
"You allowed her go?!" repeated Snape incredulously. "She was pregnant, you fool. Surely even you must have noticed her lack of focus? She was hearing things that she couldn't before…bizarre things happen to a muggle bearing a wizard's child!"
"Remus's child?"
"Or cubs," replied Snape harshly.
"You knew?"
"I told her she was not. I put her somewhere safe…and you bring her here have you no sense, Black?" Snape's eyes narrowed and he looked at Sirius, glancing behind him at the veil momentarily and then down at the rope.
"I don't think she is pregnant…she may have been. But she survived the Dementors." He looked at Snape intrigued. "They always take a soul…" He turned and looked down into the aether, where he had seen Cecilia descend minutes ago. "…it could have been what protected her, why she is still alive."
"And she turned up on your doorstep," recapped Snape. "You didn't think to tell us about it?" But Sirius said nothing and continued to stare at the abyss that was beyond.
"I am to drop the memory, and she is to do it." From his pocket Sirius took the bottle that Cecilia had returned to him, upending it close to the veil. The stopper fell out almost before it was vertical, dropping onto the sandstone blocks that made up the floor and both wizards watched it drift beyond the veil like a leaf in the wind.
"You let her go."
"Don't make the mistake of thinking that you are the only wizard here who cares for Cecilia – " Sirius looked past Snape and at the person now approaching the archway at speed staring at Snape, a look of determination on her face.
"Who's that?" asked Sirius as the witch approached, pale hair and face even though she seemed agitated.
"Tabitha Penwright. Mysteriour. She works for the Ministry." Tabitha looked at Snape in shock, the words she had intended to say evaporating in her mouth.
Tabitha shook her head. It was she who was about to tell him where the children weren't and now he was standing in her Room, by her artefact! With…Sirius Black!
"He's a Death Eater!" exclaimed Tabitha, astonishment giving way to annoyance and she turned to Snape. "You told him about the veil?"
"You set the Dementor on Cecilia Frobisher." Snape returned the look of accusation that Tabitha was giving him with one of his own.
"You did what?!" Tabitha and Sirius said the words in unison: she jerked her head and looked at Sirius, who in turn gave her a glare of pure anger. A feeling in the pit of her stomach began to grow and Tabitha looked away.
It had been Regulus Black staring back at her, Tabitha had been sure of it. Waiting as he had done to humiliate her, to tell her in front of a large proportion of the school that she had been confiding in him all those months when she thought she had been sharing her innermost raw feelings with an understanding girl. Closer up though she could see…this was Sirius Black...the man was much older, his features slightly different.
"My boss told me all about you." Tabitha forced herself to face Sirius Black.
"My brother told me about you. And your abilities." His face broke into a leering grin and Tabitha felt her heart sink as the humiliation reverberated in her mind. "And you set the Dementors on Cecilia?"
"Yes!" she snapped back. "I did. And I'm sorry to have done…I did what I thought for the best…" She stared at Sirius now, challenging him by her forthrightness. "Haven't you ever done something controversial for something you believe in? I can understand you…" turning, she pulled out her wand and pointed it at Snape, "…but he's a Death Eater!"
"Miss Penwright – "
"Silence!" she demanded. "You will have the chance to speak when the Aurors come!" Tabitha took a step forward and held her wand higher when Snape made to move. But not for long. Out of her hand her wand spun as Sirius knocked it out of her hand. Tabitha turned furiously and opened her mouth to scream that he would be taken by the Aurors too.
"He was," Sirius continued, brandishing his own wand.
"Cecilia Frobisher made that go away too, did she?" said Tabitha sarcastically. "I've sent word. I do have some power, you know…"
"She's not dead, Miss Penwright," intoned Snape. "She's just been brave enough to do something some of us could not." Unspoken words passed between Sirius and Snape. Tabitha looked down. And saw…
"…that's mine!" She ducked underneath Sirius's arm and lunged for the corner of the arch, picking up the parchment that Cecilia had left there. "Why…who…?"
"I don't think it matters any more, Miss Penwright," said Snape softly. "Cecilia Frobisher is alive and she used what you have there to carry out a deed for – " But Tabitha wasn't listening. She looked between the parchment and Snape.
"You? You took this?" Snape said nothing. Tabitha's fury began to rise and she paced assertively towards the tall wizard. "Are – you – a Death Eater?" Her words were steady and rhythmic, spoken as only a woman can when she requires specific, direct information.
"Listen." Snape lowered his voice to her in a way Sirius never thought possible. "It's true. I was once, but not any more." To Tabitha's, and to some extent Sirius's, amazement he pushed up his sleeve and revealed the hideous scar that betrayed his secret. "It is also true that Cecilia Frobisher made it disappear…cut my link to the Dark Lord…gave me a new start. I am a Death Eater no more."
Tabitha raised her eyebrows and stared at Snape. Something she didn't believe to be possible had come to pass before her very eyes. He had been solemn and his masterfulness that she was used to had been replaced by humility.
"Never mind that!" Sirius stepped between Tabitha and Snape. "Listen, there's more than Cecilia Frobisher we have to think of…what about Harry?" Snape's eyes turned on Tabitha and he folded his arms.
"I don't know. They could be anywhere. I thought you might have found them."
"I wasn't just thinking about Harry," replied Sirius. "Voldermort will find him soon enough and the other part of the plan will be put in place. Lupin."
"Remus Lupin?" Tabitha realised that the two wizards were staring at her again. "The werewolf? He's at Azkaban, or at least he was. They…executed the last of the half breeds this evening." She pushed past the two wizards and approached the veil. Snape put a hand on Sirius's shoulder as he made to question Tabitha about what she had said and he pointed towards what she was doing.
"Well the rope's safe enough…" the Mysteriour shook her head and added condescendingly, "…who does she think she is that she can go beyond the veil? It works using the memories you know, they link together by common events…that's why you need a seed memory to find what you are looking for." Snape took a step forward and stood next to her, craning his neck forward as he followed the line of the rope.
"You think you have the monopoly on the veil?!" shouted Sirius hotly making Tabitha turn round.
"And what has it to do with you?" asked Tabitha. "Let's just hope you got it right." She looked between Sirius and Snape. "She has to go carefully, from one to another. One lost footing and it's all over." She glanced at the material before continuing. "The thoughts are real there, like areas of time interlinked to one another. It depends on the memory…that's why it works…people didn't think it was possible…"
"So she's on our side, Snape?" interrupted Sirius.
"I'm on my own side. I don't approve of rebellious schemes taking place in MY Room of Artefacts involving MY veil. For all you know you could have destroyed the world with what you had here!" Tabitha waved the parchment that had once belonged to her, been stolen and then reclaimed, as if to underline her assertion.
"And why ado you know so much about all of this?" shot back Sirius.
"Because I'm the only other person who's ever done it and come back."
Just then a loud crash followed by the tinkling of what sounded like glass shot down the corridor that led back to Tabitha's office.
"Oh no!"
"It's started," replied Snape, withdrawing his wand. "We cannot go back." All three wizards stood with their backs to the archway now, their wands drawn defensively. Their anticipation was not in vain. Out of the corridor stepped someone Tabitha recognised.
"Vincento!"
And he had his wand to the throat of a boy.
"I'm sorry, Professor Penwright," said Neville Longbottom. "You were right and Draco was wrong." Tabitha took a few steps towards her friend and Vincento lowered the wand.
"I got your message Tabitha, and on my way here I found this boy where he shouldn't have been."
"Let him go!" The voice behind Vincento was one of a girl and Hermione Granger stepped out behind them. "Miss Penwright, he thinks Neville stole something of yours from the office."
"And did you?" Tabitha took a few steps towards Vincento, her friend, colleague and ally. "Did you take something from the office?" Jerkily Neville Longbottom nodded his head as Vincento produced a large, green-bound hardback book.
"It's up to you, Tabs," said Vincento. "I can take the two wizards with me, and you can deal with the children." Tabitha looked between Neville and her copy of Mysterious Mythology. She lowered her wand and began to walk towards them.
"Neville," she began, holding out her left hand. "Why did you take my book?"
"It's not yours," replied Neville, shaking a little as Vincento drew his wand closer to his throat. "It's Harry's."
"Harry?" This time Tabitha looked past Hermione and at the boy standing behind her. Harry Potter stared back at her.
"Is this yours?" She took the volume from Vincento's thin hand and threw it in Harry's direction. The boy caught it and looked at the book.
"No." Harry shook his head. "This isn't mine, or at least, it's not a copy that could help anyone understand the Universal Link." At the words Vincento visibly flinched and stared at Tabitha.
"They were misleading you, Tabs." He continued to stare at Sirius and Snape who were still standing behind Tabitha with their wands aloft. "After everything you've done and they still kept this from you."
"Let him go, Vin. It's over. In a few minutes a whole load of rebellious wizards will be here to fight Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Tabitha walked over to Vincento and lowered his arm. "To be honest I'm sick of the lot of it. Cecilia Frobisher can go hang over the veil, see if I care."
The following things happened at once. The children, all five of them, poured out of the shadows and towards Sirius and Snape, wondering what Tabitha meant by her last statement. Behind them the Weasley twins bowled through shouting aloud that Cecilia Frobisher was not in fact dead.
To the right, down the corridor of the brains further hurrying was taking place, this time sounding like several scores of feet running in one direction, shouts and screams, protests and declarations echoing into the domed cavern. Harry rushed forward too, not to Sirius but to Snape, demanding the potion that he knew he needed to take. Hermione, the quickest of the five, sought confirmation of the fact from Sirius who, on telling her that Cecilia Frobisher was indeed dangling from a rope through the veil, yelled towards it and nearly lost her footing. Both Sirius and Snape put their arms out to prevent her from falling and she stepped back, glaring at both of them.
"I can't believe you left it so late to give Harry the potion!" she screamed at a speechless Snape. "I left you with enough information. And you!" This time she stabbed a finger at Sirius. "You knew she was alive and you let her go through there!" This time Hermione jabbed in the direction of the archway.
"You! Ouh!" Hermione broke off and stepped back, looking at the two wizards who were surveying the audience that had surreptitiously appeared around them. Hermione Granger realised now that she was screaming in front of the whole of the Ministry and their assembled Aurors, the Order of the Phoenix and….Death Eaters.
Behind all of this, at the back of the group Tabitha Penwright took a sharp, unnoticed intake of breath as Vincento held onto her firmly and held his wand to her throat.
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A/N: Well? What do you think? I'd love to know!