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Harry took the bag of presents up to the Gryffindor common room using the passageway behind the suit of armor. It was honestly the last thing he wanted to do, but rousing Hermione's and Ron's suspicions would be even worse. By some miracle he made it up without falling: his legs continued to shake uncontrollably. If there was one thing worse than seeing pure hatred on Snape's face, it was seeing mindless desperation on Snape's face. On anybody's face.
He's not supposed to do drugs. He's a teacher; he can't do drugs. Harry paused at the top of the spiral staircase, biting his lip. His image of Professor Snape, he realized, had just been shattered. The Potions master was greasy haired, utterly unpleasant, and completely without a scrap of decent emotion. He's human, too, isn't he? There's a contradiction, thought Harry dryly. He sighed. As much as he disliked Snape, the man had always been a constant in Harry's world; someone he could always hate. Unfortunately, this law of the universe had just been violated by the deep pity Harry now harbored for his teacher; his anger had already faded. He made a soft laughing noise. "I guess if I don't change, the world will do it for me," he muttered, and with that he pushed open the picture and stepped through, not aware that his legs had stopped trembling.
Harry quickly wrapped the presents using a simple charm (or perhaps not so simple; he did not yet know how to control the wrapping paper and ended up with two boxes covered in dancing penguins) and hurried back downstairs, determined to find Dumbledore and become a certified tattletale.
He was halfway down the stairs to the third floor when his scar began burning intensely. "Ah...!" Experience finally kicked in, and this time Harry turned around, searching for possible danger.
He found it quickly enough: on the top of the staircase stood a wizard in plain black robes, wand out and pointing at Harry, pale brown eyes wide in surprise and alarm at being discovered so suddenly. Harry drew his own wand in one smooth motion, proof that Professor 'Harrison's' classes were paying off.
"What are you doing?" cried a voice to the side. Harry glanced away and saw a flash of red hair and glasses.
"Percy?"
"Expelliarmus!" hissed the man. Harry's wand jerked out of his hand. He lunged forward instantly, desperately, and felt his fingers graze wood.
"Accio wand!" He had been too hasty. Unable to be held by the brief contact of Harry's fingertips the wand clattered off the railing and fell to the floor below. The strange wizard with raised his wand with an icy, triumphant smile; but before he could curse Harry he was disarmed by Percy Weasley. "What do you think you're doing?!"
Harry's attacker lunged at Percy and knocked him to the ground, where they struggled for the wands. Harry turned and ran as quickly as he could down the stairs, shouting at the top of his lungs for help, but before he touched the second floor the world was engulfed by a flash of painful, negative light and then nothing more.
****
Professor 'Harrison' was just seating herself at the High Table when she and the rest of the Great Hall heard Harry Potter cry out. She shoved her chair back instantly, knocking it over, and without a word tore through the foyer and up the marble staircase. One glance at the wand lying in the shadow of the stairs connecting the second and third floor confirmed her worst fears. With a snarled oath Rysk shot up onto the third floor, practically ripping off the hindering Hogwarts robes as she did so.
She found nothing except an unconscious Percy Weasley lying next to the stairs. Her keen grey eyes flashed about the corridor, wand at the ready. "Potter? Potter!"
When she received no answer she turned to the prone young man and nudged him non-too-gently in the ribs with her foot. He groaned but did not awaken. Footsteps snapped her head up to see Albus Dumbledore hurrying toward her from below, followed closely by Minerva McGonagall.
"What happened?"
"They're gone; they've got Potter," said Rysk tersely to her colleagues. She leaned over the railing and Summoned Harry's wand up to her hand. "Who the hell is this?" she demanded as Dumbledore reached her.
"Weasley!" gasped McGonagall.
"Bloody gods, another one?"
"Percy Weasley," clarified Dumbledore grimly as Rysk dropped into a crouch to check for a pulse. "Graduated last year; he works for the Ministry."
"The Ministry..." Rysk looked up at Dumbledore narrowly. "Fudge's side, I take it." She straightened and surveyed the hallway again, her fingers twitching as if she were hoping to find someone to hex. "I heard Potter shouting. He didn't take him," a disdainful prod of her toe to Percy's shoulder, "so who did?"
"Mobilius corpus." Percy's body floated into the air and hung there like a stringless puppet. "We'll find out," said Professor McGonagall as she waved the former student in front of herself. "Your office, Albus?"
Dumbledore nodded and motioned for them to follow. Rysk paused to pick up Percy's wand, discarded on the floor, and tucked all three into her belt. The teachers made their way quickly to the stone gargoyle ("Buttered toast") and up the twisting staircase, Percy Weasley drifting eerily in front of them. Once inside McGonagall promptly dropped Percy onto the office floor. Rysk stepped forward. "Enervate," she commanded, not even bothering to use her wand. With a moan the boy's eyes fluttered open. He looked around, dazed, then bolted straight up as he realized where he was.
"Headmaster!" Percy scooted backwards, away from the teachers, until his back bumped up against Dumbledore's desk. He struggled to his feet shakily.
"No Ministry robes, Mr. Weasley?" inquired Dumbledore pleasantly, gesturing toward the young man's plain black robes. Percy swallowed, not fooled for an instant: he could see the wizard's eyes blazing.
"Sir, I...I didn't mean for this to happen, I assure you--"
"Listen, why don't you tell us what you're doing in this school?" Rysk took a step forward and when Percy saw her he took a step back, nearly tripping himself over the desk. The woman's outlandish hair, Muggle clothing, and cold eyes combined with her unnerving demeanor to have the same effect on Percy that students in her class had suffered throughout the year. "Because you're going to, sooner or later."
"Please, professor," said Dumbledore calmly, "there's no need for threats."
Professor 'Harrison's' lip curled subtly upwards but she said nothing more.
"No one's going to hurt you, Percy," soothed the Headmaster. Percy continued to stare at Rysk nervously, thoroughly unconvinced. "Tell us what you're doing here. Who took Harry?"
"I tried to stop him!" Percy blurted out, straightening his glasses agitatedly. "He never said anything about hurting a student, least of all Harry--"
"Who?" snapped McGonagall. "Who else was with you, Weasley?"
Percy looked about the room desperately, breathing hard. Then his shoulders slumped and he hung his head. "Paul," he muttered. "Paul Ranone."
"That son of a bitch," hissed Rysk under her breath viciously. "I knew I should have killed him."
"He--he said Mr. Fudge wanted us to spy." Percy faltered. "Spy on you, Headmaster."
"I see," said Dumbledore evenly.
"He said Mr. Fudge wanted us to look for evidence."
"Evidence, Weasley?"
Percy fidgeted. "Evidence that...that Hogwarts was harboring Sirius Black, or at least something to help catch him. Evidence to use against Headmaster Dumbledore." He ended in a barely audible murmur.
"And what else did your friend Ranone say, Mr. Weasley?" snapped McGonagall with biting sarcasm.
Percy flinched. "Not much else." He gestured vaguely with a hand, looking absolutely miserable. "I tried to stop him. He knocked me out. After that he must have run back through the passageway that leads to Hogsmeade." Percy took a shaking breath. "He insisted on a route that led off of Hogwarts grounds." He looked up at Dumbledore desperately. "Headmaster, I never would have let him if I'd known...I mean, it was Mr. Fudge's orders, but now I don't think it ever was, and I didn't want anyone to get hurt, not a student, not Harry...I tried to stop him, sir, I did...!"
"Why did he want off Hogwarts grounds?" demanded Rysk suddenly, her voice the cold and dangerous blade of a knife. Percy looked to her, his mouth working like a fish's, but Rysk didn't wait for an answer. She pushed the young man aside to look at the astrological clock behind Dumbledore's desk. Her grey eyes flashed as she turned at stared at Dumbledore, the knuckles of her hands gone white from clutching the table's edge.
"A trap," said Dumbledore softly, confirming the witch's silent shock with a nod of his head. "He knows."
Thinly veiled fear passed over Rysk's hard, proud face as her eyes glazed over in horror. "Black," she whispered. In one liquid movement she had crossed the room and disappeared through the door. Professor McGonagall ran to the threshold and saw the other woman already halfway down the spiralling steps. Minerva watched as Rysk leaped over the banister railing and landed on the tiles far below with catlike grace. In the blink of an eye she was gone.
****
Severus Snape was roused from his haze of miserable self-loathing by the sensation of being watched. He raised his head from his arms and saw Professor 'Harrison' standing in the doorway for half a second. Then she was gone. Snape stared down again at the spilled Soulsbane, which had slowed its creeping movement to a crawl over the stone floor. His muscles jumped and shook as his body and especially his mind craved for the numbing drug, but some part of him wouldn't allow his getting up to make another batch. Events from years ago were playing across Snape's eye, shrieks and screams and two dead bodies which would never stop haunting him no matter how long he lived...
A dull thud came from farther down the corridor outside. The Potions master glanced up sharply, alarmed, then slowly got to his feet, using the wall as support. On unsteady legs he walked out of the classroom and looked about. Another muffled thump came through a door several meters down on the right. Snape's mouth went dry; that door wasn't supposed to exist. Only a few knew how to summon the Death Eater's cell into being. With none of his usual grace he stumbled to the door and listened hard, pulling out his wand.
"We've been through this before," came a cold, soft snarl. "Last chance."
There was a silence, and then a sickening crack. Snape heard a pained curse and then a body hit the floor. "If we find our people dead," said Rysk with just a touch of twisted anticipation, "all the Goddamn Dark Lords in the world won't be able to help you then. Dumbledore's not here this time."
"You wouldn't," sneered a second voice.
"Watch me."
The icy amusement in Rysk's voice raised Snape's flesh. He twisted the doorknob and staggered in. A man of middle age lay on the ground, supported on his arm. His stubble-dotted face was wetted with blood: Rysk had decked him and decked him hard. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher stood before him, wand out and pointing, a vicious gleam in her eyes. "No!" rasped Snape, placing himself between Rysk and the Death Eater. "No. We do not torture."
Professor 'Harrison's' gaze flickered in surprise before her expression softened strangely. "Get out, professor," she said quietly. "You don't want to see this. Get out."
Snape struggled for breath, fighting the overwhelming cravings of his body. "We - do - not - torture."
"We're out of fucking time, Snape," hissed Rysk, and with that she pushed him aside.
Snape fell back against the wall and saw Rysk raise her wand once again. The Death Eater was inching backwards, fear creeping into his eyes. "No!"
"Crucio."
