One Step Closer
Draco walked the halls of the school, blank parchment, ink, and quill clasped tightly in his fist. In his other hand, he held a letter. He knew it was time to return it. The consequences would be bad if he didn't.
Walking after hours in the school didn't bother Draco. He knew that Filch just never happened to catch him. His cat too. The other Professors always made plenty of noise should he have to avoid them. His father's name was an advantage.
He walked into a little classroom. The room was too small to hold any classes any more, but Draco knew it had been once used for Slytherin's dueling practices. The many protections around it made it perfect for his purposes most of the time. He came here when there was something to do that he couldn't risk doing in the common room or dorm. This was defiantly one of those things.
Sitting down at the desk in the front of the room, he read through his father's letter once more. 'And Potter didn't believe me when I said he had eyes everywhere.' Taking a deep breath, he started to pen his response.
Dearest Father,
I am very sorry for the distress that this incident has caused you, but at the time I knew I was ready to put an idea of mine into action. You are correct, it would have been easy for me to perform a spell to save myself; I know that I am very capable of doing that.
That was a lie, but he wrote it anyway. He hadn't had his wand on him, but his father didn't need to know that.
However, I knew that Potter's first reaction to a person in distress would be to help, even if it put his own fool life in danger. Knowing he would save me, I let him. I have spent four years studying Potter, and his weakness is his sympathy. Once he came to pity me, he was easy to manipulate. He thinks I am on his side. He thinks that I have left the Followers completely. Thinking me an ally, information may become easier for me to collect. I know that I should have spoken with you about this plan, but I saw the opportunity and grabbed it, as you have taught me to do. Please forgive me for any trouble my little accident may have caused you.
Your Son,
Draco Malfoy
He smirked to himself, ignoring the little voice in his head. His mother had planted that voice there, and as she was nowhere near as strong as his father, her little voice was easy to ignore.
Elizabeth's senses were suddenly very strong. She wasn't aware of the intense pain coming from somewhere deep inside her, but she was very aware of other things. There was a stone digging into her right hip. Her left cheek bone had broken when her face hit the ground, and the dirt she stirred from breathing hard irritated her eyes and made her want to sneeze. Her left arm was lying limply at the wrong angle. It had been broken in an attempt to break her fall and not hit her face, but the lack of any energy in her had made the action useless. But there was no feeling from it.
She grinned to herself. She knew her magic was gone, all but the tiny bit she had locked away.
"Master, is she, empty?" asked a raspy voice that only wavered slightly.
"Not quite," Voldemort said slowly, walking toward the broken figure that was Elizabeth. He stood above her. "There is a tiny bit left, something she must have done by accident. It is... hidden."
"Surly you could get it, Master."
"Of course I can you fool. It will take time, however."
Fear spread through Elizabeth as Voldemort turned her face to his. He wasn't just going to let her die. He was going to put her through more.
"Master," said another voice. "They are here to escort us tonight." Elizabeth could here the Dementors, ever if she couldn't see them. That raspy breathing was east to recognize.
"Yes, yes, don't question me." He stared at her a moment longer before standing. "Kill her." He turned his back and walked away down a path. He didn't have time for it, they were moving, and they would be one step closer.
Two men cloaked in black approached her. A heartfelt smile spread across her face.
"Why is she smiling like that?" one muttered.
"Insane," the other answered shortly.
Elizabeth never felt the knife that slit her throat. She was already working in the back of her mind to put her plan to work.
Harry rolled restlessly in his sleep. His sheets were already tangled around him, and his pillows had long since hit the floor. He kicked the bedpost, which would surly leave a mark he would never remember getting. But the turmoil going on around Harry compared very little to the chaos inside him.
Visions, half formed and fast, flashed past him. He had tried to run in every direction, jump, scream, hide, everything to get away, but when nothing would work, he simply stopped fighting and watched.
A vision of a girl appeared in front of him, but this one didn't flash and leave like the others. It came closer, and he saw Elizabeth's face. The moving stopped, the sounds stopped, and all that existed was Elizabeth and Harry.
Guilt filled Harry when he laid his eyes on her face. He wanted to sag to his knees and cry it all away. All he could do was stare. She smiled, and his stomach was suddenly very eager to rid it's self of his meal.
"Hello Harry," she said biting her lip. "Sorry I'm giving you nightmares. I couldn't find a way in unless you were worked up about something."
"I'm dreaming." The words fell from his mouth before he remembered thinking them.
Her smile fell. "Yes, you are. I'm dead. I used some of my magic so I could come here. I'm not really sure how I did it, but there are things you need to know."
Harry's mind raced. He pinched his arm. It hurt, a lot. Elizabeth started to blur.
"Oh, don't do that! If you hurt yourself too much, you will wake. I don't have enough magic to come back again."
He nodded numbly. "You- you're dead?"
She nodded. "Well, maybe I'm not completely dead yet. I don't know. My body is, but I'm here talking to you. I'm not sure where I go after this is over."
"Are you scared?" he asked quietly.
She smiled. "I'm terrified, but it will be okay. At least I got to see you." Harry felt himself go red. How could he be upset about it? She was dead, or almost. He couldn't ruin this for her. She shook her head suddenly. "But that's not why I'm here. I need to tell you what happened."
Harry nodded, his mind suddenly very focused.
"It was a short man who grabbed me. He put a spell on me, I couldn't move, or yell, or do anything. That spell, it felt, evil." She shuddered.
"Dark magic."
"I think so. I don't remember the traveling. I woke up in a cage. That thing was evil too. It was invisible. Anybody else could walk through it and out of it, but it was solid to me. Voldemort, funny how I don't care about saying that anymore." A tear fell from her eye, and she wiped it away quickly.
Harry took a step forward to comfort her, but she stopped him. "Don't touch me," she whispered. "I'm not sure if I'm solid, and I don't want to find out." Harry nodded.
"He's horrid Harry. We were in a clearing in a wood. He's even nasty to his followers. He started to, drain me. I had never been aware of my power until he started to take it. He took it all, except the little bit I hid from him. He could have gotten to it; it just would have meant a lot of work. Somehow, I don't think Voldemort knew that I was from Hogwarts. He kept muttering about not getting too close to you, be patient. About waiting until there was no chance. It seems to me that he wouldn't want a student, because he doesn't want you to know he's coming back yet."
"That was what I had thought. It is Wormtail that is making the mistake."
"They're moving Harry. He said he wanted to get closer to you. The Dementors were there. I could hear them. One of the men said they had to move tonight, because they were there to help. At least, I think it was the Dementors they meant. Then they killed me, not Voldemort, two other men. I think they used a knife if I remember correctly. I'm sorry Harry; I don't know where they are moving. He never said. I just wanted to help you."
"No, Elizabeth, you have. More then you know. I don't know how I could thank you. But, I'm sorry." He dropped his eyes. He would be looking at the floor, but there was no floor. It was nothing. "There was nothing I could do. I hope you forgive me. I couldn't help you." Harry felt the guilt burn in him. The swords words echoed in his mind. 'Place it where it will be useful later.' He pushed the feeling back, not gone, but not over powering.
"Harry, I knew you couldn't help me. That's how I came up with this idea. But, can I ask a favor?"
"Anything."
"Could you put my name on the stone? I- I guess I don't want to be forgotten."
He smiled at her. "I already did, and you won't be. I promise."
"My mother knows, right?"
Harry nodded. "She came to the school yesterday. She's still here, with Professor Dumbledore."
"Could you tell her something for me? Tell her that I died trying to help. I want her to know that her daughter was brave. It should comfort her. And that I love her very much."
Harry nodded. He had avoided Mrs. Tincy, not wanting to have to tell her that he had failed her daughter. But he wouldn't now. He would do anything she wanted.
Suddenly Elizabeth started to fade. "You are waking. Good luck Harry. You will stop him, I know you will." Her voice was far away, and fading.
Harry sat straight up in bed. Without a second thought, her threw his legs over the side of the bed. Dressing quickly, he grabbed his cloak, his wand, and the map. Throwing the cloak over him, he tapped the map. Tracing out his route, he set out.
He came to the portrait marked and read the password in the tiny bubble. With a whisper, it opened, and he was facing every staff member in the school.
Or rather, he was looking at them, and they were looking through him. Slowly, he took of the cloak.
Faces around the room paled. It didn't cross anybody's mind to scold the student for being out of bed, or for walking in on an important midnight staff meeting that had gone on for hours already. Simply Harry's presence made them feel as if he had every right to be there. Sirius grabbed Heather's hand, they both recognized the feeling as the one that James used to give when something important needed done.
Harry didn't notice that half the staff looked at him with an amount of fear in their eyes. He looked straight at Dumbledore. His eyes shifted slightly only once, to Mrs. Tincy who sat beside Dumbledore, and only his eyes showed the pain of seeing her there. The glance lasted only a fraction of a second.
"Death is just the next great adventure, you told me that once Professor." Professor Dumbledore nodded. "It is possible to carry your magic past life, isn't it?"
"Difficult to manage, but possible, yes."
"Elizabeth died tonight."
He spoke the fact, plain and true. Elizabeth's mother burst into tears, and Harry took a small step toward her, but stopped. With pained eyes, he looked back to Professor Dumbledore. "She contacted me, in my dream. She brought us information." The woman's sobbing turned into silent tears on Professor Sprout's shoulder. "He is doing what I suspected, draining their power. He doesn't know that he had a student. Peter wasn't supposed to come near here." Professor Dumbledore nodded again. "They were in a forest. A clearing, she said. But they were moving. Tonight. She said that the Dementors were there, and she believed they were aiding in the move. Voldemort," almost the entire room jerked.
"Don't say that name," somebody whispered. Harry either didn't hear them, or pretended not to.
"Voldemort said that he wanted to be closer. She tried to find out where they were going, but couldn't." Harry paused, and his steady gaze shifted to Elizabeth's mother. The pain entered his eyes once again, and this time he did walk closer.
Kneeling down beside her so that he was eye level, he delivered Elizabeth's message.
Mrs. Tincy's blue eyes stared at him, and she burst into tears once more, this time on Harry's shoulders. "Thank you, Harry," she sobbed. "You've done so much, you have no idea."
Harry's eyes shut as he comforted her. 'If only I had been able to do more, you wouldn't be crying right now, and Elizabeth would be here with you.'
When she let him go again, he turned back to Dumbledore. "I don't know if the Dementors have left the prison for good, but I don't really think they have. Voldemort still doesn't think we know. He's completely mad, but if Peter got away with it once, somehow I think he will be back."
Dumbledore nodded again, all his years showing in the strain in his eyes. Harry took a step back, and pulled the cloak back over him. The portrait opened once more.
Dumbledore turned to face the staff, and as soon as the sobbing woman had been escorted out of the room, he began to speak. "This changes things. All of our tracking does us no good if they are moving. I agree with Mr. Potter on every account. You all know now of Peter's ability. It will be too easy for him to get in. What we need to concentrate on is not letting him get back out if we can. If he is closer, then our attempts to locate him increase tenfold. Severus?"
"I told you, he hasn't contacted me. He probably feels that I am much too near you and Potter to risk approaching yet. If I try to contact him, he knows that we are catching on. You know I hate if, Professor, but there's nothing I can do."
"Sirius?"
Sirius held tighter on Heather's hand. "I have been looking, or sniffing, rather. There is only so much a convicted criminal dog can do. James, Remus, and I had a circle of contacts, but it had broken and faded. We are doing our best to reestablish it, but most of them think that I am Voldemort's second hand, and Remus has his own problems against him. Not many of them knew Heather, she was much younger then them."
Dumbledore nodded, and looked around the staff table. "Anybody else?"
"How does Mr. Potter get away with having that cloak?" Madam Hooch asked.
"It was James'," Sirius answered looking at the wall. "That was how we got away with most of our stuff. It is all Harry has of his father, if I'm not mistaking. Just as that ring on his neck is all that he has of his mother."
"How did he know we were in here?" Professor Flitwick asked.
Dumbledore sighed. "Even I do now know that. He seems able to do that often."
"The map!" Severus and Sirius said synonymously then glared at each other.
"What map?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes narrowing.
Sirius sighed. "Another mistake, made useful. With all the sneaking around that we did, you wouldn't believe some of the things we found. It's not just a map; it's a mind map. It knows what we knew; it knows what you are trying to do. It shows where every person is, knows their names by reading their minds. It knows what door you are trying to open, and shows you the password. Stupid and foolish of us, along with everything else we did. So many things could have gone wrong into making it. But we were lucky, again. It won't hurt him. He may need it, too."
Dumbledore nodded, willing to let the subject go when there were so many more important things.
"Well if nobody else will say it I will," Severus said with a sneer. "How is it he can walk in here, after hours in a room he's not allowed, breaking who knows how many rules, and I feel like he should be punishing me?"
"James was the exact same way," Heather muttered.
"A naturally born leader," Dumbledore answered. "He is not even aware that he is doing it, I don't think. He could make you believe the sky was yellow, and then make you think you were a fool for not knowing it sooner. James did have if too, but not as strong as he does, and not as young."
"He's too young for everything he has to face," McGonagall said sadly.
Suddenly the portrait opened again, but they saw nothing once more. Quiet, there was not sound in the room to announce Harry's return. "He never left," Severus said, glaring at the portrait that was swinging closed.
Harry ran from the room, blinking tears out of his eyes. He had stayed to see if they would talk about what the things they weren't telling him. He knew they were holding things back. Instead, he had heard things he didn't want to know.
'Yellow sky? I don't do that! Please, no, I don't want power over people. I don't want them to follow me.'
His feet took the familiar path. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going. However it didn't surprise him that his feet had taken him outside. He took of the cloak. What was the point? They knew he was out. Lighting his wand, he walked to the side of the lake. Faint golden streaks of dawn touched the horizon, but a light was still needed.
He kneeled beside the stones, and watched his lightning bolt and Ginny's rose glow red and gold faintly in the predawn light.
Grief washed over him. Anger, guilt, pain, could be stored, made useful later. But grief? He clutched his wand, channeling the grief through it, not knowing what it would do, and not caring. It began to glow, not the red he had been expecting, but a soft gold. A flower formed on the tip of the wand, and he stared at it. Picking it up, he laid it between the stones.
He watched as the petals began to fall from it, without a magical source to sustain it. One by one, they hit the ground, and though he could have stopped it, he didn't. There he stayed until morning really began. He hadn't been able to help Elizabeth, but he was one step closer to stopping Voldemort for good.
'You may be closer to me, Voldemort, but that means I am also closer to you.'
The Professors watched soundlessly out the window at the boy who sat and stared at something he couldn't change. The same thoughts on all of their minds. He was too young. He had no choice. Neither did they. They were one step closer to the end.
A week passed. Elizabeth's mother went home. Word of what had happened spread quickly. Harry said nothing about it; he acted like nothing had happened. Except if he asked you to do something, and you were about to do it or agree with him, he would suddenly withdraw his request, and grow silent.
Ginny, being as observant as she was, took note of this right away. She stored the information in the back of her mind, saving it for when it was useful.
Harry and Ron walked into Divination, and surprising Ron, Harry took a seat in the front of the classroom. Professor Trelawney entered not too long after.
"Welcome class, as you know, today we will be exploring-" she cut off at Harry's raised hand. "Yes, my dear?"
"May I ask you about something?"
"Of course you may. I saw that we would not get much done in class today."
"What can you tell me about prophases?"
"That is a very broad subject. They come in many forms, and we do not always understand how they work. They can be about tomorrow, or thousands of years from now. The language usage will usually tell you the time period in which it will take place. There have been records of prophases made in languages that the prophet did not even speak. Prophases made in the past about today will be spoken in today's form or language."
"What about the people they are about? Do they have to come true?"
"Oh yes, they always come true, but words have many meanings. They do not always come true the way we expect them to."
"Does it mean anything when they rhyme? What happens if they are lost? Could the same prophesy come from two different people?"
"Slow down child, why the new found curiosity?"
Harry suddenly clamped down on his lips. Studying him, she went on. "A rhyming prophesy usually means that it is not to come true for many year. The rhyme is an attempt to keep them from getting lost. Once they are lost, they still come true, but there are few ways of getting them back."
She lost some of her mystical appeal while she spoke. Harry had her on a train of fact, not some dreamy story or prediction. "There have been several reported ways to recover them. One is to send somebody with the talent into a trance to look for it. That way requires a lot of magic, but it is the most effective. There are dark ways that I won't go into. Another way is the dead, whom some believe go to the same place that prophases come from. They know them, and if the dead contact, they could tell them to you." Her eyes narrowed. "Did the girl who contacted you speak of a prophecy?"
Harry was so lost in thought he hadn't heard the question. When he realized what she had asked he jumped. "What? No, no she didn't." Once again he fell into silence, Ron looking at him as though he had grown three heads.
Harry was silent for the rest of the period, and distracted in charms. They were learning a Still Charm. It was tricky little thing that required you to convince gravity to hold something for you. It required a fancy grip and swing. Harry's mind really wasn't on it as he attempted the charm.
He swung his wrist, and felt his blood suddenly race and heat. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and he felt the effects of staying up for most of the night. His wand had fallen from his hand and he bent down to pick it up.
"Congratulations! Mr. Potter has done it!" Harry jerked up to see that the large orb that had been floating was now planted firmly on the ground. He stared at it in surprise. Maybe he should try not sleeping more often.
Ginny sat in history, and taking a deep breath raised her hand. The only person she had known to ever interrupt Professor Binns was Hermione. The ghost looked up at her. "What is it?"
She painted her face with the most innocent smile she had. "Professor, I know that all of this will be on the test, but I was wondering if you could tell us about the founding of our school. It seems to me that we should learn more about our own history, and I could think of nobody more suited to tell it they you."
The class perked up, this was somewhat interesting. What had inspired the quietest member of their class to bring this up?
"I see no harm in that," the ghost said slowly.
Ginny gave a mental cheer of triumph. A new message in her dream the night before had led her to believe that some answers might be here. 'Of Hogwarts founders four, the bloodline must remain pure.'
"The school was founded by the four most powerful witches and wizards of the day, their names reflected in the school houses. Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Godric Gryffindor. Magic was very unexplored, they knew how to use very little of it. That was why they wanted to start a school. To teach what they knew, find out what the others knew, and protect themselves from those who sought to kill them.
"The four founders where very different, and chose the members of their house by their qualities. Salazar Slytherin was good in planning, doing things in secret, and being all around sly. Rowena Ravenclaw was the scholar among them. She had a thirst for knowledge that could never be quenched. Helga Hufflepuff was a charming young lady, very loyal to her three friends. She was said to read palms and tell fortunes. Gryffindor was a daring man. He believed above all in duty and honor.
"The school prospered for many years. But naturally the differences in personalities called for problems between the followers. Slytherin's belief that children of Muggle heritage were not worthy of the school set him apart, and that is what we believe brought on the Chamber of Secrets. Others think this was a result of the myth known as Helga's Last Act. But there was more then just that to set the founders apart.
"Hufflepuff living in a dream world made her and the practical Ravenclaw have squabbles, but most of the time the women usually got along. Gryffindor and Slytherin did not. They were much alike and at the same time too different. Slytherin favoring sly and cunning ways, verses Gryffindor who believe in doing exactly as you said you would. It came to near war between the too, and both of their children carried it on. Their houses also kept up the rivalry, which you are all aware off. You will find that the Sorting hat very rarely puts a person with Muggle parents in the Slytherin house, because the Sorting hat follows what the founders would have done.
"There was a huge fight between Godric and Slytherin, not only with words, but violence. Godric came very near to killing Salazar, and it is said that that was when Salazar Slytherin left the school. Realizing what they had done, the three remaining founders put their differences behind them and continued on. A few years from then, Salazar sent his son to the school. Needless to say it shocked the others, all three of which had a child in schooling at that point. Salazar however, never returned."
Ginny's hand shot back in the air, and she didn't wait for him to call on her before she asked her question. "I have heard somewhere of Helga's Last Act before. What is it about?"
"That is a myth, and has no purpose in this room-"
"You thought the Chamber of Secrets was a myth," Ginny interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "And that's more real then I'd like to remember."
"School history is taught in fifth year." With that, he continued to read his lecture from the huge textbook and ignored any further protest from Ginny. Muttering under her breath, she hit the desk with her fist, unaware of her year mates staring at her. At least she was one step closer.
(A/N: First off, a very HUGE thank you to my best friend Ally, to whom I owe this chapter. I am stuck in PA, at my grandparents' house, and didn't have any of the information I needed to write this chapter. Ally, being the best person in the world, E-mailed me everything I needed. She practically rewrote the second book for me. I really owe her. Anybody who wants to send Ally a thank you note, write it in the reviews, (she reads them) or look under Gwen Oshino to find her E-mail. (Gwen Oshino is a character that you will meet in book six.) Second, a very big sorry to all members of the Sal Fan Club who did not get a notice about this chapter and may not for the few following it. My E-mail list is at home, and as I am in PA, I don't have access to it. I may be able to get a hold of it by Monday, but don't count on it. Thanks for reading!)