Chapter 11: "Treachery"

"Over there, Hagrid!" Harry and Hagrid ran to the edge of the forest. They found Frodo's sword Sting lying in the grass. But there was no sign of the Hobbits. They looked up in time to see a train of Dementors heading for the Hogwarts Gate. And leading them was Cornelius Fudge, carrying what appeared to be two small children.

Hagrid swore under his breath. "Fudge! Shoulda' known that if there's Dementors about at Hogwarts, he'd be behind it!" Hagrid had had no love for Cornelius Fudge since the affair with his Hippogryff Buckbeak two years ago.

Harry, utterly shaken, returned to the Gryffindor common room and told Ron and Hermione what had happened.

"I wonder where he took them?" asked Ron.

Harry looked at Ron bleakly. "I have a bad feeling about this. If Fudge brought Dementors, there's a chance he could be taking them to Azkaban."

"Azkaban!" cried Hermione. "He can't put them there! Oh how horrible!"


Harry shook his head. He felt that this was all his fault. Dumbledore had charged him with protecting the Hobbits.

Ron, as if sensing Harry's guilt, said, "Harry, you can't think that you could have stood up to the Ministry of Magic? You're lucky the Dementors didn't kill you!" Harry didn't reply, but put his head in his hands. Then he sat up with a start.

"Oh, as if things couldn't get any worse!" he cried. "I completely forgot. I have detention with Snape tonight. I should have been in his office hours ago."

"Forget about it," said Ron. "Go tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" said Harry, with a hollow laugh. "Blow off Snape. Not show up for detention at all. Right." He stood up. "Better late than never. If I'm lucky, I'll only get detention for a week, not the whole month."

"Maybe Snape will understand," said Hermione. Then, looking at Harry, she said, "Well, maybe not. I suppose you had better go."

Harry strode down the stairs and made his way downstairs with a sinking heart. He had the unpleasant thought that Snape would punish him not only for being late, but also for going about after hours. Harry hoped that he wouldn't find Snape in his office at all. "No such luck," he thought to himself, grimly. The office door was agar, and candlelight could be seen flickering beyond it. Harry knocked gingerly on the door. "Professor Snape?"

"Who is it? What do you want?" a grating, irritated voice answered. "Harry Potter! What are you doing here, skulking about at night?" asked Snape, eyes flashing.

"Please sir, my detention," Harry said. "I—I'm sorry I'm late. I forgot. There was a lot going on this evening. The Dementors, sir. I was trying to protect…"

"I heard all about it," snapped Snape. "As for your detention…" But he hesitated just then. In his fireplace, the flickering flames began to take on a different hue. He sprang out from behind his desk, grabbed Harry, and shoved him out the door. "Out, get out!" he spat. "Back to Gryffindor at once. Detention tomorrow. Go!" Snape slammed the door shut.

Harry started to run up the corridor. Then he stopped, turned around, and crept back to Snape's door. He touched his wand to his ear and whispered, "Auros." Immediately Harry's hearing increased a thousand-fold in sensitivity. He put his ear to the door and listened.

"…You have been given this chance to prove yourself loyal," said a voice behind the door. It wasn't Snape, Harry was sure. "If you fail, it will go ill with you. Use your Key to get to Azkaban."

"Key? A Port-Key! Snape has a Port-Key from Hogwarts to Azkaban!" thought Harry, stunned.

"Collect him," the voice went on. "Everything is arranged. Then apparate to the House."

"Might I be allowed to bring both?" asked Snape, silkily.

"Both?" laughed the other voice. "Do you really think his Lordship would trust you with the One? No, it is safe, and at his House already."

"His Lordship?" thought Harry. "Voldemort!"

"I understand," said Snape.

"Leave now," said the voice. "You are expected immediately."

Harry heard footsteps, then—nothing. He listened for several more minutes. Nothing. He straightened up and steeled himself to bear Snape's wrath. He turned the doorknob; it was open. In his haste, Snape had not locked the door. Harry gingerly stepped inside. He looked around. The office was empty. Snape had vanished!

Harry dashed up the stairs and headed towards Professor Dumbledore's office. His mind was crowded with thoughts. Snape handled the locket, Harry realized. When Frodo fell from the broomstick, the locket flew off. Snape had picked it up, and did not return it willingly. That touch must have corrupted him. He wants the Ring. He has gone back to Lord Voldemort and betrayed us all! "Why, oh why, oh why was I so foolish?" Harry said aloud. "Why did I have to show off on that broomstick?"

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that he ran right into Professor Flitwick, sprawling the diminutive teacher onto the floor. "Harry!" said Flitwick, picking himself up. "What are you doing out after hours?"

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "But it's something urgent; I have to speak to Professor Dumbledore."

"Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonigall have gone to London, to plead with the Ministry for the release of the Hobbits," said Flitwick.

"But I…" said Harry

"Run along, now, Harry. Go back to Gryffindor at once. Do not interfere. This is a matter for teachers to resolve," said Flitwick, decisively.

Harry found Ron and Hermione still sitting dejectedly by the fire in the common room. Hermione looked up, "That was a pretty brief detention, Harry. Was Snape in a good mood?"

Harry shook his head. "Something terrible has happened." Harry related what he had heard at Snape's door.

Hermione shook her head. "A Port-Key from Hogwarts to Azkaban. We've suspected Snape before, groundlessly, but…that is very incriminating." She thought for a minute. "You can't apparate or disapparate anywhere on the Hogwarts grounds…but Port-Keys work…"

"We know," said Ron, impatiently.

Hermione shot him a look. "I wonder…if Professor Snape really is in league with You-Know-Who, he would be subject to repeated summons. But Snape can't apparate from Hogwarts. And I can't imagine that You-Know-Who would be daft enough to have his house on the Floo Network. So….perhaps Snape has another Port-Key…a Port-Key from Hogwarts to the Dark Lord's house. He would need it to get back and forth unobtrusively."

"A Port-Key from Hogwarts to Voldemort's house," whispered Harry, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You said that Snape was directed to go first to Azkaban, and then apparate from Azkaban to the house," said Hermione. Harry nodded. She went on, "So…he might not have brought the Key to Voldemort's house with him, because he wouldn't need it. If we could find this Port-Key, we would have a chance at rescuing Frodo and Sam, and then bring them back here."

"Right," said Ron. "And then all we'd have to do is fight You-Know-Who, Snape, and any other dark Wizards who might be there."

"It's a long shot," said Harry. "We don't know if this Port-Key Hermione is talking about really exists. But it means the end of the world if Lord Voldemort gets the Ring. I am willing to die trying to prevent that, and to rescue Frodo and Sam."

"I am, too," said Hermione, quietly. "Harry, you've dueled with You-Know-Who before. And we'd be there to help you this time."

"I hope it doesn't come to that," said Harry.

"This is suicide," said Ron. "But I'm coming with you."

Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak, and they scrambled down the stairs to Snape's dungeon. Harry held his breath and pushed the door open. The room was still empty. "Now where's the Port-Key," he sighed. "If there is one."

"Port-Keys, as you know, look like ordinary objects," observed Hermione. "I suspect he would put it where he wouldn't brush against it inadvertently, but would still keep it in ready reach. If we start testing objects, we should all hold hands, so we get transported together."

They searched the room hand-in-hand. "That's it!" cried Ron. "A tortoise- shell comb. That must be it!"

"Why do you think so?" asked Hermione.

"Do you think he ever combs his hair?" Ron sniggered. But the comb was not the Key.

Presently Harry said, "Aha! On the mantelpiece. A fountain pen. A muggle pen, not a quill. Snape is no lover of muggle artifacts; why would he have a pen?" Harry grasped the pen. Immediately he felt a strong tugging sensation in his midsection, and a feeling of very fast movement. When they came to rest, the trio found themselves sitting on a soft, sweet-smelling grassy lawn, in front of a vast country estate.