Beth turned back to Richard and Minister Fudge. The Minister was doing his best to keep the crowd at bay, but they pressed in from every side around the fallen boy.
"Stay back, stay back!" he shouted, waving his portly hands in a radius around them. He caught sight of Beth and stepped over Richard to grab her arm and pull her into the fracas. "We need to get you inside," he huffed. "Follow me." Then he bent down and lifted Richard from the ground.
For a pasty dignitary, Minister Fudge was strong. He worked through the crowd, parting a way with his elbows and voice, until they could climb the marble steps of the Ministry and make their way inside the building.
The inside of the Ministry was rich with columns and gold. High ceilings arched overhead, and red carpets strung the long, narrow halls. Minister Fudge bustled past the startled workers and closed rooms until he reached a hall lined with plain windowless doors. "Get that, would you," he grunted, jerking his head at one of the doors. Beth opened it for him and held it while he went in and laid Richard on the thin cot in one corner.
The room was sparsely decorated, with no windows and little more than the cot, a table with two stools, and a mirror. "Wait here, I'll call your head of house," he coughed. "Who did you say that was?"
"Professor Snape," said Beth.
Minister Fudge's eyes narrowed. "Indeed. Well, don't leave until he gets here." He reached over and tapped Richard's forehead with his wand. "Ennervate. That may take a while to take effect," he warned. He coughed into the sleeve of his pinstriped cloak, backed out, and shut the door.
The room was oppressively silent. Beth took a seat on a stool near Richard's cot and sat there looking between her hands and his lax features. After a few minutes, she nudged him gently.
"Feeling okay, Rich?"
The only answer was a shallow moan.
She tried again. "It's all right. You're safe."
He twisted a little in his cot. Beth left him alone and went back to watching her hands.
Of all the dumb stunts, she thought. He might never wake up. Where would that leave us? And who even knew what was going on back at Hogwarts? Maybe the Stone was gone, or the firsties were dead ... maybe Dumbledore ... Had it been worthwhile at all?
Richard groaned and opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments; then his gaze flicked to Beth. "What do you know ... I'm still alive."
Beth grinned shakily. "Gloria serpens, eh?"
Richard managed a weak smile. "Gloria serpens."
They sat and looked at each other. "I wonder if it worked," Beth said.
"If your intent was to terrify a hundred wizards and start a dozen incorrect rumors about Hogwarts, then yes, it worked."
Beth jumped at the voice. Professor Snape stood over them both, scowling in a way that made Beth feel like a Gryffindor.
Richard sat up, slowly and with much grimacing. "I'm sorry, Professor. We had to contact the headmaster, and this was all I could think of."
"Then I question your resourcefulness," Professor Snape spat. "The streets of London are simply abuzz with people claiming that a new wave of Death Eaters is planning to take over the Ministry. Moreover, they've found out that it was a Slytherin who frightened them all. How does it look, Shaw, for one of us to call on the name of the criminal who rose from our midst?"
Richard remained silent, his lips pressed together thinly.
"And Parson!" Snape turned on Beth. "I can hardly believe that you of all people would be involved in such an ill-inspired plot. After knowing how your family ended up, that you would even speak the name of the Dark Lord is beyond my comprehension!"
Beth's jaw dropped. "How my family ended up?" she sputtered.
"Those who supported the Dark Lord in his reign have been punished, and the Parsons are no different," Snape ranted. "They and their former friends are in Azkaban for helping his ascension -- and you two have inspired the same kind of fear that was defeated over ten years ago!"
Beth ignored his admonition, hung up on his previous words. "My brothers are dead," she said, in a low clear voice.
"I am sorry that is not the case," Snape said coldly. "Come, we're going back to Hogwarts, where Headmaster Dumbledore will have his chance at the pair of you. If you were not in my house, and such normally intelligent students at that, I would encourage him to expel you on the spot!" With that, Snape stalked to the door and flung it open, waiting for them to leave with him.
Richard stood stiffly, groaning a little. Beth rose from her stool numbly. She had never known her professors to lie, but -- could it be true that her family still lived? After all that time?
Professor Snape marched them down the hall and into the lobby, still giving them a vicious diatribe. "Irresponsible! Possibly criminal! I was considering you for next year's prefect position, Shaw, but I can see that would have been a gross mistake!" Richard's jaw dropped, but no words came out. The professor stopped in front of a broad marble fireplace, dropped a pinch of Floo powder into the fire, and enunciated, "Dumbledore's office, Hogwarts." The fire bloomed green. Grasping each student by an upper arm, the professor strode into the fire.
Snape's grip on Beth's arm never loosened on the trip back -- a good thing, Beth thought, since she felt doubly sick as they hurled though the network of fireplaces. Despite that, the churning of the Floo network was nothing like the tumbling going on in her mind. So the feather from her mother: real? Madame Rosmerta's comments: honest, deliberate? And all she had heard from her father, suddenly, terribly false?
In a few moments, Snape strode out of the fireplace in Dumbledore's office, dragging a student in each hand.
Dumbledore hunched over his desk, writing furiously with a fluffy white quill.
"Here are the students who went on holiday to London," Snape announced acidly. Rich swallowed hard.
Dumbledore waved one hand in the air distractedly. "Thank you, Severus, please send them back to their dormitories. I will deal with them later."
Snape hissed a little and tightened his grip. "Headmaster, this sort of infraction should be dealt with promptly --"
"I will deal with them in my own time," Dumbledore repeated firmly. "Thank you for fetching them."
"Headmaster --" Snape tried again.
"In my own time, Severus!"
The potions master curled his lips. "As you wish." He let go of Beth and Rich's arms and stalked out of the office.
Beth and Rich looked at each other. "Headmaster?" Rich spoke up hesitantly.
Dumbledore put down his quill and peered up at them through half-moon shaped glasses. "Mr. Shaw, this incident has given me some very important business. Please go back to your common room."
"Sir, how did it all turn out?" Richard blurted.
Surprisingly, Dumbledore smiled. "The three students are alive, and the Sorcerer's Stone is safe. I'm sure you can hear the rest of the story from your peers. However," he continued, becoming serious, "there is a great deal of work to be done. Go now. And thank you."
He bent over his desk again, and Beth and Richard slipped out the door.
They went back to the common room slowly. Beth still felt dizzy from the Floo, and Richard was apparently still trying to shake off all those Stupefy spells. "What's the password du jour?" he asked groggily.
"Er -- oh right, 'final exams stink'." That password had been of Jerome Marx's creation. The hidden door slid open, and they climbed into the low, underground common room.
Immediately, hordes of excited students descended on them. "Did you hear?" "Harry Potter! He's unconscious --" "And The Dark Lord, he was here!" "Something about flying keys -- a big dog --"
Beth stared at Richard, unable to speak or hear over the throng. Someone tapped her shoulder. It was Melissa. They wormed through the clamoring, gossiping crowd and into a corner of the common room, where it was relatively quiet.
Melissa looked like she was bursting to speak. "It worked, didn't it?" she hissed delightedly. "You got Dumbledore! And they're saying it was just in time, too. But no one knows it was you! Everyone's so excited about Potter --"
Richard held up a weary hand and placed it over her mouth. "What happened?" he asked tiredly.
Melissa scowled, but spoke more slowly when Richard took his hand away. "It was Harry Potter and his two cronies. They thought that Snape was going to steal the Stone --"
"Snape, what would he want it for?" Beth broke in angrily.
"Well, that's what they thought," Melissa shrugged. "So they got into the corridor and got past the cerberus and went down the trapdoor, and there were all these booby traps and things -- Vivian was right that there were probably more guardians -- and in the last room, there was the Stone, but guess who was there first."
"Wasn't Snape, he was busy chewing us out," said Richard.
"Well, who?"
"Professor Quirrell!"
Beth started. "Quirrell? What was he doing down there?"
"Trying to steal the Stone!" Melissa read their astonished expressions with delight. "Wait, it gets better! He was going to use it to help the Dark Lord regain his power. Because You-Know-Who was inhabiting Quirrell's body!"
"Inhabiting?"
"What d'you mean?"
"He was sharing a body with Quirrell."
"How?"
"He was living under the turban!"
"You're kidding."
"No! He was under it all year!"
Richard ran his hands over his face. "So you're saying that Quirrell went around all year with the Dark Lord living under his hat?"
Melissa nodded enthusiastically. "So anyway I guess Quirrell and You-Know-Who tried to attack Potter -- the other two got left behind, I think -- and the Dark Lord couldn't touch him! Again! Burned him or something! But listen --" Her voice grew serious. "Quirrell's dead!"
Beth and Richard fell silent. "Dead?" Richard repeated. "Potter killed him?"
"Yeah," said Melissa, eyes wide. "They're saying he didn't mean to. But after what You-Know-Who did to his parents and all, I think he did." She paused. "And Potter's in the infirmary now, he's unconscious."
"Lucky him," said Richard. His eyes wandered to the staircase leading to the boys' dorms. "I -- I think I'll catch up on all this tomorrow. Sort of tired." He shuffled away, listing to one side.
Melissa looked at Beth in surprise. "That's not like Richard at all. What happened?"
Beth snorted. "He got himself hit by like a dozen Stupefy spells in London, and then Snape gave us a royal reaming-out. He'll be better tomorrow." She yawned suddenly, only then realizing how heavy her limbs suddenly seemed. "Me too. See you in the morning."
Stumbling into the dormitories, Beth fell into bed without changing out of her clothes. As her head hit the pillow, she found herself thinking that Lord Voldemort was apparently not as dead as everyone thought. Neither is my family, she thought vaguely, but before she could get a good handle on that idea, she was fast asleep.