Unplottable Island

Chapter 12: Gone

Tim woke up that morning to someone shaking him very hard. He was awake within seconds, thrashing out of his blankets. Sleep had been elusive that night, and he was only dozing anyway—but who on earth felt the need to wake him like that?

"Wassamatter?" he asked groggily, groping for his glasses from the bedside table. "Who's there?"

"Tim," said Harry, whose face came sharply into focus as Tim hooked the glasses over his ears. "Wake up."

"I am awake, thanks to you," Tim replied grumpily. "Why are you here?"

Harry grabbed his twin by the shoulder and began walking him towards the common room. "Dumbledore wants to see us in his office now—it's probably about Snape or something new about Voldemort. Dumbledore's been worried because Snape just vanished off the grounds, and you aren't supposed to be able to do that." He licked his lips nervously. "I don't like it."

"What I don't like is all this 'emotional state' rubbish all the teachers lay on me whenever I ask a question. Ask about Evil Dude and they say I can't handle it. I can handle it," Tim replied. He shoved his glasses higher up on his nose as they exited through Sir Lot, who immediately began ragging on Harry for entering the Common Room.

"—And you, Sir Tim, should never trust anyone with something so secret as my password! I should change it right now and tell no one, that'll teach you all to respect me! See how you like it in a night without beds, alone in the corridors…" he continued, his voice becoming an annoying clatter as they rounded a corner and began the ascent to Dumbledore's office.

"I feel sorry for you," Harry said fervently. "I mean, we've got the Fat Lady and she can be a real pain in the arse when she gets going, but this suit of armor never shuts up, does he?"

"Never," Tim said. "Don't argue with him, it just encourages him to fight back."

Harry snorted. "Has anyone ever tried to blow him up? I would." He made a few motions with his wand and sent a cloud of orange smoke poof into the air.

"Actually it's a Ravenclaw tradition—a rite of passage or something. If you're powerful or clever enough to make Sir Lot shut up—or blow up—then you're basically automatically accepted." Tim sighed. "I think most of the seventh years can, but there's this one little girl who everyone though was an idiot in the second year who blew his helmet off. Funniest thing you've ever seen, all those sixth years trying every day and that little girl just coming up to Sir Lot one day and BAM." He waved his hands around for extra effect.

"Really? Sounds fun—blast. Ready to guess the password?" Harry paused in front of the great stone gargoyle.

"Sure. Chocolate Frogs."

"Everlasting Gobstoppers!"

"Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans!"

"I don't think he likes those, Tim. Blood-Flavored Lollipops!"

"Oh, sorry. Lemon Drop!"

"Peppermint Toads!"

The gargoyle jumped aside, and Harry went up first, triumphant. Tim followed, resolving that the next time he had to come to Dumbledore's office he would be the one to guess the password.

"Hey Harry, hey Tim," called Sirius, who was sitting on a chair in the main office. "You guys know what's up?"

"Not a clue," replied Harry. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"In his office," Sirius waved at the seats. "Sit down. We're waiting for Laura."

"No. We aren't." Dumbledore entered, drawn up and surrounded by a force so strong and so very angry that Tim was suddenly afraid of him. "We have discovered how Voldemort captured Professor Snape." He sighed, a short, briskly disappointed sigh that stirred his long white whiskers. "Voldemort has a pact with a certain sect of centaurs that live within our own Forbidden Forest. One of these centaurs, named Edark, was responsible for the abduction of Severus Snape. He is by now most certainly dead."

"Why is this, Professor?" Harry asked tentatively.

Dumbledore smiled thinly. "Centaurs have their own way of dealing with law breakers. The lawbreakers go to the people they've wronged—for instance, had Edark killed another centaur, the family of that centaur would be free to do with him as they wished. In this case, by breaking the pact with Hogwarts, he has wronged the whole tribe. Centaurs are rarely merciful."

"Oh," said Harry in a very small voice.

"For money, this sect of centaurs were paid to abduct Severus Snape and hand him over to Voldemort," Dumbledore summarized.

"Are the others being punished?" Sirius demanded.

Dumbledore smiled again, so thinly it was almost sarcastic. "Oh, possibly. The last remaining member, named Nightshade, was found dead last night in a stream barely inside the Forbidden Forrest, poisoned by the most deadly poison I've seen in years. The dosage given this one centaur was enough to lay low half the city of London."

Sirius whistled. Tim shrugged and resettled himself in his seat. "What's that got to do with anything?" he asked. "Sorry, that came out wrong. But what does Nightshade's death have to do with anything?"

"Oh, everything, young Mr. Potter. Everything." Dumbledore looked from face to face, so grave Tim began to get worried. "Nightshade's death was observed by one other centaur, named Firenze." Harry and Sirius both sat up a little straighter. "Firenze is now dead, but before he died, he gave us the most interesting account."

Sirius looked puzzled. "How could Firenze be dead?" he asked. "I knew him, growing up—he was too clever to get himself killed, and he would never seriously break a law!" Harry nodded.

"Poison. The same poison that killed Nightshade, to be precise. Firenze saw Nightshade hand over a woman to a very tall, lizard-like man, and then Nightshade fell down and died. Firenze ran after the creature, but it ran far too fast. Firenze came back to the centaur herd, told a few people, and less than an hour later fell into a fever and died."

"A woman? A lizard-like man?" Sirius demanded. "Who was it? Tell me who it was!" he said in a tone of voice neither Harry nor Tim had ever heard from Sirius or would use with Dumbledore.

"Sirius Black!" Dumbledore snapped. "Show respect, please!" Sirius mumbled an apology, looking abashed. "The lizard-like man was not Voldemort, which confirms rumors of Voldemort having Dreki working for him. I'm having the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes cover Dreki in their next lesson, so Harry and Tim will learn about them later. The important thing was the woman he carried." Dumbledore looked down, and when he met all their eyes again, Tim knew whom it was.

"It was Laura, wasn't it?" he asked softly. "Laura went out walking last night—"

"No!" Sirius cried, springing to his feet. "It's isn't true! It can't be! Laura--" He wheeled on Dumbledore. "It isn't, is it?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"No!" Sirius sat down, burying his hands in his hair. Tim blinked slowly, aware of a smaller person screaming in his head, panicking. He didn't feel that panic on the surface, only coolness like water moving slowly across his body. He shivered. Something was wrong with him, he thought. He should be crying, accepting that he'd never see Laura again.

Instead he said, "We can get her back." It sounded so logical to him.

Sirius shook his head. "We don't even know where he's residing as of now," he said. "He has no reason to keep Laura alive."

"Actually, we have a vague idea," Dumbledore said. "He's in the Scandinavian region, somewhere close to where the last colony of Dreki was seen." He shook his head. "The last colony of Dreki was seen in 1635." Dumbledore looked straight at Tim. "And he does have a reason for keeping Laura alive."

Harry whistled. Tim sat very still. "Me?" he breathed softly. "But—why?"

"Twins are special." Dumbledore said simply. "Harry nearly defeated him once, and you are his twin. He takes it for granted that you have some special power about you."

"And he's made himself immune to any special protection I had," Harry continued.

"I've nothing special about me!" Tim exclaimed.

Dumbledore sighed. "Voldemort doesn't know that." Sirius moaned.

Authors Note: Okay, Disclaimer time! Anything you recognize as belonging to JK Rowling does, in fact, belong to her. The art of Illusions, though in my fic not taught by the admirable Airelle Vilka, was in fact inspired by that (keep writing, Airelle!). Timothy Potter, Laura Potter, the Dreki and a few of the centaurs are my mind-children, though I like the Dreki best…*smile* Thank you.