Chapter 2
From then on, Dumbledore had avoided any further conversation on Buckbeak. It was only later on in the common room that Harry, Ron and Hermione got another chance to talk about it.
"What do you think Dumbledore meant when he said the Ministry had better things to do than look for Buckbeak?" asked Ron.
"It must be really important for them to change their plans so suddenly," said Hermione.
"You don't think that it's… Sirius they're after now do you?" asked Ron hesitantly, glancing at Harry.
Harry sat silently, staring into the fire.
Not knowing quite what to say, Ron and Hermione gazed into the flickering flames of the fire as well, watching them dance on the logs. The room around them was silent- the other Gryffindors had long since put away their work or games of wizard chess and had gone up to their beds, leaving the three alone in a brooding silence.
As Harry looked at the fire, the flames stopped flickering. They seemed to be fading a little. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks, he was tired after all. But then, from the heart of the fire, a shape was forming. Harry quickly looked over at Hermione and Ron, who were also staring intently at the fire. The shape grew stronger until a face formed in the flames. Harry relaxed- he realised that he'd seen this happen before. As the face came closer into focus, he saw at once that it was Dumbledore.
"Professor Dumbledore!" squeaked Hermione, horrified that he had caught them out of their dormitories.
"Good evening Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter. I am glad to see you… though I'm afraid Mr Filch wouldn't be if he saw you were not in your beds. Be that as it may, I wish to ask something of the three of you," said Dumbledore. "No doubt you remember my good friend Nicholas Flamel, owner of the philosopher's stone?"
"Of course Professor Dumbledore, but didn't he- I mean, isn't he, well, dead?" asked Hermione.
"The stone has indeed been destroyed Miss Granger, and yes, in time he will die. However, a man of his age has several affairs to be sorted before the time must come. The elixir he has stored will last long enough for this. He has specifically requested help of my students with his work. I have no doubt that you are the ones for this task. But you must understand that this is entirely top secret, hence appearing to you like this. I must ask you to repeat this conversation to no one. Now, why don't you go off to bed and we can discuss this further tomorrow?"
Before they had a chance to reply, there was a pop and Dumbledore's head had vanished.
Then followed a silence, shortly broken by, "I can't believe this, does he really think we have time to sort out some old man's rubbish? I've got an essay to do for Snape that's got to be four scrolls long!"
"Ron, don't be so ungrateful, Dumbledore has put his trust in us that we do the job well," said Hermione a tinge of pride present in her voice.
"Great," said Ron flatly.
"We can talk about this tomorrow. I need some sleep," said Harry wearily.
They got up and moved silently up the separate stairs to their dormitories. Harry pulled the hangings shut around his bed and fell asleep instantly.
*
Not so far away stood a lone hooded figure, against a starless sky. The trees to his left seemed to be devoid of wind that had been rustling through not five minutes ago. Nothing moved, nothing looked to be alive, time seemed to be frozen. The next second, a rustling could be heard in the tall grass. The figure didn't move.
"Show yourself." A cold, seething voice rang out.
A human form slowly grew from the ground next to the hooded man. It was short and rounded, compared to the lithe silhouette of the first man.
"My Lord…" began the short man.
"Save your excuses. The task I set you- it was not accomplished."
"He… got away- it wasn't my fault!"
"It never is with you, Wormtail. Always someone else who can be blamed," the cold voice spoke again. "But there is one thing that puzzles me. How did you manage to foil my plan? If you followed my plan, Harry Potter would no longer exist! What does this suggest to you?" The tone was patronising, almost sarcastic.
"I… don't know, I'm sure my Lord," whimpered Wormtail.
"You didn't do it did you? DID YOU?" thundered the first man. Sparks flew from the hood as if his rage was being materialised.
"My Lord, you don't need to kill the boy. He is nothing compared to you, no threat at all… I just thought that-"
"I have had enough of your half-witted explanations! You know he must die. Your previous uselessness could have been down to your talentless, brainless self, but the task was well within even your limits Wormtail! A simple curse! That is all I asked of you. Your faithfulness to me has wavered ever since Harry Potter-" he almost spat the words- "saved your life. I am not in need of a servant who is not on the Dark Side."
"But I am, Your Greatness, I am! What would you do without me? I remained faithful while all others left you…"
"Liar!" screamed the first voice, chilling the air around them.
The second man fell silent, and looked down at the ground.
The hooded man seemed to be pulling something out of his dark cloak.
"NO! You can't kill me! You need me!"
"I do not. Lord Voldemort needs no one. Goodbye, Wormtail."
There followed a sudden green-flamed explosion, leaving only a rising cloud of dust, and the outline of the hooded man, lined by the moon. Wormtail was nowhere to be seen.
*