When Harry managed to control himself, he realized that he was back at the entrance to the Great Hall. He craned his neck in case he saw Pansy, but there were only a couple of students left behind who kept muffins in their backpack. He felt a blow to his shoulder and turned around prepared to take Ron down, but it was Draco with an angry face.

"Thank you, friend, for leaving me in the harpy's lair."

"She wasn't going to eat you," Harry said to downplay it.

"Almost. She repeated the speech that she gave to you, as if I had not been present. And she added that, if it was not useful, she would ´eliminate´ me."

Harry adopted a serious expression.

"That doesn't sound good at all..."

"May she dare raise her wand to me. She will leave Hogwarts with a kick to the..."

"Boys!"

They both turned to Pansy, who was catching up with them almost out of breath.

"I waited near Umbridge's office, but, wow! You two do run fast," she explained. "Come on, we have Potions."

"When we're done, you can tell Snape about the costume," Draco suggested.

"What costume?" Pansy asked with a frown.

The two explained the problem: James Potter could not see Harry with his true appearance, or he would know immediately that he was his biological son, the result of his rape of Lily. And who knows what springs would shoot in his crazy head. So they had improvised an appearance: red-haired Harry with a prominent nose.

"But the Weasleys know you," Pansy pointed out. "They will give you away..."

"We're working on it," Harry sighed.

He didn't say that Ginny was keeping the secret from him, so she didn't count. The real problem was Ron. When they reached the potions classroom, they found Snape at the front of the class about to begin. On his desk was Whiskers, who, upon seeing Harry, stuck out his tongue, rolled his eyes, made a choking sound for a split second, and turned to show him his splendid butt.

"Oh…" Harry said softly. "I completely forgot Whiskers..."

"Poor you, mate," Draco said as they took chairs in front of a cauldron.

Harry thought about suggesting to his friend that he take the Divination degree, because in the middle of Snape's more didactic harangue, Whiskers slipped from the professor's desk and reached Harry's side, lazily digging his claws into his legs. Through the pants. The boy was holding onto the table so tightly that he was afraid he would tip it over. Tears were leaking from his eyes, and he couldn't wipe them away no matter how much he blinked. He dared not interrupt Snape for various reasons: latent survival instinct from his original timeline; and because it was going to look ugly for the man to stop the class at the request of his son, who was given unsolicited acupuncture on his legs by his own cat.

In a pause, he was able to chase away Whiskers and the cat gave him a break. But he returned to the charge when he had to brew a forgetful potion. Harry could tell that Whiskers was more effective than any potion at making things forget, because he didn't remember anything about the explanation. Snape must have sensed him lost, so he walked over to the boy's cauldron and leaned toward him.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"No." Harry pushed the cat away with one foot under the table, but the animal dug its fangs into his ankle. "Oh! It's... Whiskers! I completely forgot about it! Now he tortures me..."

"I'm sorry, I should have left him in my office and have him take revenge later."

"Dad!" Harry chided through clenched teeth.

"Today's potion is on page one hundred and thirty-nine," Snape pointed out. "Good luck."

Harry was about to protest, but the man turned to a nearby student to reprimand him for the way he stirred his cauldron (Congratulations Mr. Flatter, keep it up and we'll all explode in five minutes). The boy had no choice but to reach for the book and guess what the theory that Snape explained in class was about.

"... it's horrible ... our age and ... dead ..."

Harry stopped cutting valerian roots to keep quiet and hear two Ravenclaw students whispering.

"But… didn't they say he talked a lot about Death Eaters?" Whispered a girl with her hair in a ponytail. "How could he have died at their hands?"

"Who knows," said the second speaker. "But think: just before going back to school, everyone at home goes to sleep ... and the next day, you find your son's room shattered with the Dark Mark on the ceiling and the boy in the corner, dead ..."

"Stop, Fabian! I don't want to hear anything else ..."

"Angela, Fabian? Do you want to share something with the rest of the class?"

The Ravenclaw students reddened to their ears and looked down. Snape was between them, his arms crossed.

"And…?" The man insisted.

"Sir ... we were talking about ... death ... the murder of Klaus Thunderbach," Fabian whispered.

Snape's face did not relax, but a strange glint appeared in his gaze. Harry know, like him, that Snape regretted not having passed the full list of Death Eater targets.

"Continue with your potions," the man ordered and headed for Draco's cauldron.

The rest of the lesson was fatal to Harry. Not only because he spoiled his potion, but because he kept thinking that he could save Klaus. He wondered who his murderer was. Perhaps James himself, who was eager to punish who did not keep his promise to Voldemort. Then he told himself that if he wasn't able to save Hermione, how did he plan to manage to get ahead of the Death Eaters? When he finished class, he walked over to Snape's desk before he called out to him. Whiskers turned his back on him with a spasm. Draco and Pansy beckoned him to wait outside, guessing that he needed a moment alone with his familiar.

Snape joined him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you about it so quickly. No one should wake up to bad news," the man said.

"Umbridge summoned us before breakfast." Harry's stomach growled as a witness. "She was dressed in black, with grass on her shoes… was she coming from…?"

"Yes. Klaus's funeral," Snape said and patted him on the shoulder.

"Who ... who killed him?" Harry asked, afraid to know the answer.

"Ronald Weasley."

Harry didn't take in the name for a moment.

"Ron… I thought it was James… But, Ron…! Holy Merlin ..."

"It's not your fault."

"We were able to give the full list, dad."

"That has already been discussed. It was not a good idea: we would compromise Padfoot, you, me, Malfoy ..."

"Do you also support the idea that, except for you, the rest of us are pieces of wood on a war board?" Harry got angry.

"Stop," Snape warned sternly. The boy was giving him a bad look. "I guess Umbridge told you that ... unfortunately ... she has a point."

"But…"

"We can't always save everyone, Harry. And if we're dead, there is less we can do for those left alive," Snape said, his voice softening. "Now ... something to tell me? Other than that your potion was the worst in the class."

Harry wanted to say something witty, maybe even defiant, but he took a deep breath and focused. He spoke to Snape of the summons James made through the badge, of the urgency to perfect the costume that he and Draco had improvised.

"That's for sure," Snape said proudly. "A real appearance modification spell and another to color your hair will do the job. What worries me is that you are alone in front of the Dark Lord..."

"Draco and I envision the questions he will ask us, and we are already planning some answers that may be appropriate."

"We'll discuss that later," Snape cut him off, "they'll let you know on Friday ..."

"I should have bet with Draco," the boy mumbled.

"… they will go out through the Astronomy Tower."

"What?"

"I'm not a huge fan of the Dark Lord, but I must admit that this time he showed off to get so many students out of Hogwarts in one day. Also, because Umbridge and McGonagall will look the other way… The transfer will be staggered, with a strict schedule. You should be attentive to the instructions this Friday. Stay tuned for your badge… and let me know right away. That's it… see, you have Transformations, right?"

Snape tousled the boy fondly and he left the Potions classroom looking as if he had been hit by a truck. Or scratched to the touch of convulsions by his own cat, who also slipped off him and walked in front of him with his shaggy tail held high. Draco and Pansy were waiting for him around the next corner. Both with faces of circumstances.

"By Merlin… Klaus Thunderbach, dead…" Draco said quietly.

"It's awful," Pansy murmured.

"I know," Harry sighed. "The culprit is ..."

He looked around to make sure they were alone. Although he remembered Sirius's advice and looked for a piece of parchment, a quill, and wrote the name. The other two looked as or more shocked as he was when he heard the news.

"Despicable," Pansy grimaced, "red-haired rats, all of them! Be especially careful with the youngest, Harry."

The boy couldn't defend Ginny. He was finding it impossible after watching her torture Hermione in cold blood.

"I'm not going near her," Harry declared. "Not a hundred meters away."

Pansy nodded, satisfied. She took one of the boy's hand and led him upstairs. Harry hoped the gesture meant a speedy reconciliation rather than keeping up appearances.

None of the three spoke much in subsequent classes. Harry was dying to explain to Draco what Snape had told him about how they would leave Hogwarts (via the Astronomy Tower), and that he was right in saying they were going to send directions on Friday. But he didn't want to involve Pansy any more than she already was. If they passed that kind of information to her, she would try to help them and she would put herself in danger.

So he debated it with Draco at night, when they were getting ready to sleep, with the help of a parchment, pen, ink and erasures. After the exchange (now there were two intrigued as to how Voldemort was going to get them through the tower), they burned all the evidence.

Over the course of the week, they avoided the Weasleys as best they could. Perhaps Harry's only interest in getting closer to Ginny would be to know what had happened to the rest of the redheaded family. He wanted to think they were safe in another country, but an internal voice chided him for being so naive. Hopefully they would be alive, yes. Among the ranks of Death Eaters. Which meant he wasn't going to find any friends in the Weasley family who could put a stop to Ginny and Ron's follies.

On Friday afternoon, Harry was spending time with Pansy high up in the stands of the Quidditch pitch. They had practiced to exhaustion, but he felt satisfying. It was nice to chat and laugh with the girl, unconcerned with the world spinning around. She was beginning to lower her guard, to treat him the same as before the confession. As if they had never parted. His hands felt throbbing inside the gloves.

"Have you talked to Draco yet?"

The boy winced.

"No, I won't, either," he said and Pansy raised an eyebrow. "It's not a good idea to remove my best friend's job."

"It's not taking it off. Would make an exchange: you, seeker, he..."

"Well well! If I see the opportunity, I will tell him about it."

"I only think of the best for the team."

"And doesn't it have to do with me being your boyfriend and having the chance to become famous?" Harry asked flirtatiously.

For an instant, he believed that Pansy was going to play along. But the girl became serious as if she had remembered something offensive.

"Make no mistake: the fact that we appear at school and in front of your family doesn't mean anything," she snapped.

She picked up the broom.

"Pansy!" He called, and the girl stopped a few inches from the ground. "Sorry ... I'm going too fast."

"Sorry?" She glanced over her shoulder angrily. "That you go fast? No, impostor. You don't even have to ´go´ somewhere, slow or fast."

She rose into the air and plummeted toward the building's exit. Harry let out a sigh that made his chest shudder and he followed her. In her room, after lunch, Draco took it upon himself to spank him.

"Are you an idiot? You were fine without mentioning the courtship. That is how you should have stayed! Remember what we talked about: she is the one who has to assimilate it and take that step, not you!"

"I despaired!" Harry exclaimed with a fuss. "I thought things had been fixed enough ..."

"In two weeks…?" Draco scoffed.

"I'm not perfect, okay? And you? Are you that good at your relationships that last a lifetime ...?"

"We'll see," Draco said mischievously.

"What does that mean?"

"That I'm dating a girl. Well, to go out, what is said to go out, still ... actually, we would walk around before the Christmas holidays, but ..."

"And why don't I know about that?"

"You were in your own drama, which you dragged me into and unfortunately, I forgot to attend to it for a while," Draco replied. "But I promise to put you at ..."

He fell silent so abruptly that Harry became concerned. Until he felt something warm in his pocket. He pulled out the Death Eater insignia and held it to his ear, as did Draco looking at him with a stunned expression. James's uncontrolled voice dictated instructions just for him.

"… You will have the honor, son of Snape, to report to the Dark Lord tomorrow. Or so your little head understands, in a few hours! At ten minutes past twelve in the morning, one of our funniest puppies awaits you at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Failure to attend is punishable by death, death, Snape's son...! "

Harry heard the message once more. And again. Until James's voice trailed off and he was able to lower the insignia, cold and vulgar, like it wasn't a Death Eater brand.

"At ten past twelve…" Harry began.

"… In the Astronomy Tower," Draco completed. "My Aunt Bella spoke to me."

"To me, James. I didn't like his tone."

The two of them were silent for a few minutes.

"You have to change your appearance," Draco reminded him. "And what do we say if they ask us ...?"

"What we agreed to." Harry paced back and forth in the room. "We rehearse it quite a bit, right? Then it will work out fine. Let's go with my dad. I bet he has more instructions."

"Or a plan B, in case ours fails."

Harry gave Draco a reproachful look and they rushed out of the room without even removing their Slytherin uniforms. Discreetly, they slipped into the dungeons. Although anyone who had seen Harry's potion in the morning would not question why they voluntarily went to Professor Snape's office. Fortunately, the man was awake. Sitting at his desk, he was going through a mountain of scrolls. Whiskers rested on one of the shelves. Seeing Harry, he made a strange noise, wagged his tail furiously and turned his back on him.

Snape looked up and sighed.

"Son, you know that Whiskers is complicated. He will only approach when he forgives you ... which may happen tomorrow or in fifteen years."

"I hope it's tomorrow… or right now," Harry murmured and walked into the office followed by Draco. "Dad… we were summoned."

Snape stopped writing to scrutinize them.

"Both of you ...? When?"

"At ten past twelve. In the Astronomy Tower."

Snape didn't seem surprised. Harry waited for him to go crazy, running around the office, yelling plans and more plans at them. But nothing similar happened. The man calmly got up, pulled Whiskers off the shelf to return with two small potion containers and show him to the teens.

"Drink this. It will give you a suitable state of mind to… face the questioning."

"My father won't like to know I took drugs," Draco murmured with a grimace, but he grabbed the vial.

"Interrogation? Harry uncapped the container from him and poked one eye out. It looked like water. "What do you know about this, dad?"

"Padfoot and I were sure that you two be called first. The Dark Lord is very interested in the performance of both of you," Snape explained and made a quick gesture for them to drink the potions, which the friends did at once. "Malfoy, because his family finances many operations, the Dark Lord wants to be sure there are no cracks. And you, Harry… I just entered the ranks of Death Eaters. He wants to know if he can use you against me when the time comes."

"I would never turn against you," Harry said and slammed the empty vial down on the table. Its contents were not only lacking in color, but also lacking in smell and taste.

Snape smiled sadly.

"I will have to train you to learn to resist the Imperius," he said, though the boy was sure he was going to comment differently. The Weasleys came to his mind and he did not want to continue thinking about them.

"Do you have room for one more student, professor?" Draco asked.

"Giving drugs to a Malfoy and then casting an unforgivable curse on him until he resists it…?" Snape replied and the boy lowered his head. "Yes, of course. I can do that."

Draco looked more animated. He didn't seem to be amused that Voldemort controlled him with the Empire to hurt his own parents.

"The plan you told me about, Harry, is a good one. Keep that up, whatever happens, and you will get through the interview. You must not waver for any reason. A hole in the wrong place, no matter how tiny, can break a barrier."

Snape waved his wand and Harry's hair turned red, just like Lily's. Then the man raised his head.

"This spell is simple, but wears off after twelve hours. You must learn it. You have to focus on the aspect of what you want to change. Now, listen carefully: mutāre!"

Harry's face wrinkled at a sting. Then he felt a tingle on his lips. Snape stepped away so that he could see himself reflected in the glass shelves. The result was far better than Draco's hastily achieved at the Death Eater cub reunion. At least his eyes weren't watering, and his now slightly curved nose didn't sting with pain. It was enough to change it.

"Thanks, dad," he said with a smile. He felt something hairy embedded in his legs and knew that Whiskers had forgiven him.

"Also, let Umbridge know," Snape requested. "Use the galleon."

"What?" Harry bared his teeth. "I have nothing to say to that woman! Also, if I text her, Ginny Weasley will see it too."

"Then write it down for both of them. Tell of the summons, the place, the time, and that possibly all the other recruits use the same escape route. Ginny Weasley will think you trust her, and Umbridge and McGonagall will take action here." As Harry was reluctant, Snape put a hand on his shoulder. "Listen, son: when playing two-sided, the information must be handed over, or we will be eliminated. Do you understand? A pawn that is not useful will disappear in the first few squares of the game."

Reluctantly, Harry pulled the enchanted galleon out of a pocket. He touched it with his wand and murmured the message. For Ginny. For Umbridge.

"Perfect, now, what are you waiting for?" Snape exclaimed. "This is not a vacation room, run to the point you were told! Better to arrive early than late."

"He's right," Draco said. "Also, those stairs are killer."

Harry said goodbye to Snape with a brief hug and ran out of the office. In a few minutes, the friends were climbing the endless staircase of the Astronomy Tower. By the time they'd been climbing for ten minutes, Draco cursed the Hogwarts architect and his family with every step.

"Why ... do you exist ... infernal... Tower...?" The boy gasped for breath. "Today… has… been… worse… worse!"

Harry had to admit that the atmosphere was heavy. What If they really had a spell? Was someone trying to delay them? He swallowed hard as he remembered that James had pointed out that no-show meant death. Or were they trying to drive them crazy on a staircase that had no end? Make them give up when they didn't get somewhere? He gritted his teeth and continued the climb. They began to sweat profusely. Their legs ached terribly, but they braced themselves not to fall.

Suddenly, they saw a glow at the end. As if they had been injected with strength, they almost ran on all fours until they reached the open hatch and stepped out into the open. Draco fell to a sitting position, suffocated, while Harry leaned against a wall.

"I bet Ginny you weren't coming," said a familiar voice. "And now I owe that dwarf a galleon. Life is unfair."

Harry sat bolt upright. Ron, in his Hufflepuff uniform, was looking at them like someone who discovers shit in the shoe. Harry was about to riddle him with spells, but he contained himself.

"We're here, on time," he said when he heard the midnight chimes. Which confirmed his suspicions that the ladder had a spell to slow them down or make them desist.

"Yeah, unfortunately ... ah ... wait, wait ... you ...? Yes, you are Snape, right? Hmm, what are you doing with that red wig and the crooked nose?" Said Ron suspiciously.

"It turns out that I don't feel like going around fulfilling Vol ... Dark Lord's assignments with my true face. To leave a trail of breadcrumbs for the Death Eaters? Become Dementor´s meat in Azkaban? What an idiot you are, Weasley," Harry snapped before he could remember that he rejected that argument himself. "Adult Death Eaters have masks, we don't."

Ron composed his expression of surprise, but said nothing. He regained his hateful smile and bowed to the edge of the Tower.

"Come in, Your Excellencies. Jump up and meet the Dark Lord."

Harry thought he heard wrong, but it was Draco who exclaimed:

"Sorry? Jump from the Tower? Did you finish losing your mind?"

"The Dark Lord demands a faith jump. It's the easiest way to know if you trust him or not!"

Harry couldn't move. Ron was crazy. They all were. How was committing suicide supposed to be the correct way to reunite with Voldemort? Draco was just as scared as he was. He had stayed by the open hatch, crouched.

"What are you waiting for?" Ron got angry. "Time flies! If it's ten past twelve and you're still here, I'm afraid you have a nice funeral tomorrow."

Harry mustered up his courage, brushed past Ron and walked to the edge. He leaned out. It was a terrible fall. There was going to be nothing left of him. Draco soon joined him, pale in the moonlight.

"I don't like it at all, mate," he whispered.

"You have to like it if you want to be Death Eaters!"

Ron pushed them. He did it with such force that the other two plunged headfirst down the Tower. Harry screamed. Screamed, screamed. He hoped Pansy was practicing with the broom and would save him. Let some flying creature consider it food and catch him in the air. But nothing happened. He and Draco fell.

Until he felt a tug on his navel. Something pulled him inside himself and he went round and round.

He fell on a stone floor, cold and damp. Torch fire danced on the walls. Harry picked up his glasses and put them on his nose. He heard a groan and saw Draco lying next to him, face down. Taped to his back with Muggle duct tape, he had a tin of olives. Harry groped on his own back until he pulled out a minidose can of bitter orange marmalade. It had written "I'm an idiot" in magic ink.

"Portkeys," he murmured. "They must have lowered the castle's defenses to allow it ... if I hadn't..."

He was silent. A door opened in front of him and even though he had no scar to confirm it, he knew that Voldemort was just a few feet away, waiting for him.