Chapter Seven; Error Margin
Dusk had fallen. The sapphire sky slowly dulled; grey clouds tinged with pink gathered in a rolling wave approaching from the east, chasing the gold-white sun as it sent glowing rays of vibrant light lancing across the sky. The first few stars were coming into sight, shining weakly while the sun still remained, gradually descending.
The final vestiges of sunlight spilled across the castle and grounds penetrating the windows, casting streaks of light and shadow through the corridors and passageways.
Very few students were about. Curfew was within the next ten minutes so many of them were sensibly residing in their respective common rooms and dormitories. The people that were still about were the Prefects, congregating in the History of Magic classroom for one of their weekly meetings. Muffled voices could be heard from within.
Halfway down the adjoining passage, seated on a plinth supporting a large suit of armour, waiting impatiently for the meeting to finish, was Sirius. Half hidden in shadow, he didn't seem particularly concerned about being seen. So long as he stayed silent and stopped fidgeting, no one passing by would be likely to realise that he was there. Yet, unknown to Sirius, someone already knew he was there and had in fact been watching him for nearly twenty minutes.
Harry stood further down the corridor, standing in a shallow alcove, leaning against a huge stone gargoyle. Tired, hungry and still very nervous, Harry watched over Sirius from a safe distance, hoping that nothing was going to happen inside the classroom while both his parents were out of his sight.
James and Lily dutifully arrived on time for the meeting much to the protest of Sirius who insisted that they arrive 'fashionably late'. Choosing to ignore his suggestion, they left the Great Hall straight after dinner. Sirius telling James he'd wait for him so they could go down to the Shrieking Shack together.
Harry glanced out of the window at the gathering darkness. The full moon was tonight, but the now deep blue sky was as of yet devoid of the celestial body that would trigger a horrific and painful transformation.
Remus had become increasingly pale throughout dinner and, once again, had barely eaten a thing. As soon as he was able, he'd excused himself and left for the Hospital Wing.
Just as they were leaving, Sirius had told Peter to go down to the Willow and wait for him and James. Assuming that the Prefects meeting didn't go on for too long, they'd get down to the Willow shortly after Remus. Not daring to object, Peter had scurried off immediately, sneaking out of the front doors, transforming and disappearing into the long grass. Harry had then followed Sirius up to this corridor to wait for his father.
So far he hadn't felt even slightly cold. No faint tingling or a tiny shiver. Nothing. Harry was starting to wonder if the Tracking Spell had not been strong enough and had simply worn off. Still, Hogwarts was a huge building. The assassin could be several floors above Harry for all he knew. There were limits to the Tracking Spell after all.
The long wait was continuing to worry Harry. He almost wished that the assassin would make a move, just to break up the monotony of standing around waiting.
It transpired that Sirius didn't possess even half the patience that Harry had. Less than five minutes after James and Lily had left him in the corridor, he'd taken to doodling all over a piece of parchment he'd fished out of his pocket. Two minutes after that activity had lost its appeal, Sirius amused himself with casting shadows on the opposite wall. Harry watched with interest as a flight of tiny shadow dragons flew across the stonework, then smoothly transformed into little Quidditch players shooting in and out of the darkness.
Soon, the passageway became so dark that Sirius was forced to give up on his shadow game, casting an eye over to the closed door of the classroom, muttering under his breath for James to hurry up.
Watching him from the alcove, Harry's thoughts went drifting to Sirius' future counterpart, the two people blurring in Harry's mind.
One major, noticeable physical difference was the eyes. The eyes of this sixteen year old Sirius were a deep liquid brown, sparkling and constantly looking for fun and humour. There was no deadened look within them. No closed, blanked expression that came unbidden with the haunted memories of an undeserved imprisonment with sightless, soul-sucking fiends that had almost driven him insane.
An intense wave of regret and fury was stirring once more in Harry's heart.
After last night, he'd tried very hard to keep thoughts about Wormtail and altering history, out of his mind; blocking it out with a fierce determination not to stoop so low. But now it returned, bringing a fresh onslaught of possibilities and reasons.
There was just so much that could be changed for the better, if only Wormtail was out of the way, permanently.
Gazing at the young man before him, Harry felt as though he ought to mourn for the loss of such a fine, fun-loving person. This Sirius had yet to be thrown into the hardships of war against the Dark Lord; to be entrusted with the lives of his friends when suspicions and fear would cloud his judgement; to wrongly suspect a close friend and pass the responsibility of the role of the Secret Keeper to a cowardly traitor in an attempt to fool the Dark Lord in order to keep his friends and their son safe - only to have everything backfire so disastrously and to be framed for his friends murders, thrown into Azkaban without a chance to prove his innocence while the traitor got away with it -
Harry furiously rubbed his eyes, stinging with tears of bitter fury. Wormtail; it all came back to Wormtail. Everything would have worked out fine if hadn't been for him.
And yet Harry just couldn't bring himself to do it.
The perfect opportunity was here and now.
So why on earth didn't he take it?
This could be the one and only chance that he would ever get to save his parents and spare his godfather from the horrors of Azkaban.
But that hollow, empty chasm deep within only intensified as he contemplated the murder. While one part of him relished the possible outcomes, there was that awful, sick, revolted sensation growing inside along with it. Revulsion at himself.
It just wasn't something Harry felt he could live with.
Wormtail had taken life. Surely he harboured this feeling deep inside, too, and he would have to live with it for the rest of his days while it ate away at him from within. Perhaps keeping him alive was more of a punishment? Death would comes as a release if that was so. But did he deserve to live having taken the lives of others? Did Harry really have the right to execute him? Was it truly justifiable?
While still mentally fighting a battle of morals and ethics, Harry suddenly became aware of a presence. Someone was sweeping up the corridor, their black cloak fanning out behind them. The sun was almost gone but a feeble, watery ray of light filtered through the window to highlight a hooked nose on a thin sallow face.
Snape strode past Harry too quick for him to consider sticking his foot out. Sneer firmly in place, Snape approached Sirius with an air of poorly concealed sadistic glee.
Sirius looked up as he came nearer. A grimace of frustration and disgust contorted his features, his hand automatically moving to rest beside his wand, tucked into his belt.
'Well, well, look who's here,' said Snape, coming to a halt in front of Sirius, looming over him in an intimidating manner.
Sirius, with a great effort to restrain himself, attempted to ignore Snape by reverting his attention to his well-scribbled parchment.
'All alone? Now, this can not be. Aren't you Marauders all joined at the hip then?' He said the name as though it were something foul and repulsive.
Sirius raised his blazing eyes to the arrogant Slytherins face.
'Oh really? And where are the rest of that pack of hyena's that obey your every whim? Sick of the tyranny at last, or has the stench of grease finally gotten to them?'
Snape's lip curled, his eyes flashing dangerously. Harry's respect for his godfather was rapidly increasing, seeing as how Sirius didn't even flinch. That look could easily send every Gryffindor in Harry's class into a cowering, gibbering wreck of nerves in less time than it takes to blink.
'What would Lupin be doing at the Whomping Willow at this time of night?' Snape's voice was soft but Harry heard him loud and clear.
Sirius stood up quickly, putting his face very close to Snape's.
'That would be none of your business.' He growled.
Snape remained unmoved.
'Ah, but I'm making it my business, Black. By all accounts Lupin is not even supposed to be on school grounds right now. Should he not be visiting his poor ailing mother like he claims to have been doing all these years?'
Sirius blinked. Snape smirked.
'I've just seen him crossing the front lawn with Madam Pomfrey. Now, unless Lupin's mother happens to live under the roots of a violent tree, I'd say that little Lupin has been telling lies, which makes me wonder why.'
Harry watched anxiously as Sirius' eyes narrowed, his grip on his wand so tight his knuckles were turning white. Snape continued to smirk, folding his arms, his eyes gleaming maliciously.
'What's under the Willow, Black?' he hissed. 'You can't tell me you don't know.'
Harry shivered, drawing his cloak more tightly around him. A prickling sensation was swarming over his skin. Eyes wide, Harry jerked his head round, peering down the corridor.
There, not twenty feet away, stood a tall, dark-haired boy, pointing his wand towards Sirius and Snape. Dark eyes alight with malice, his lips were moving, forming silent words; yet as his lips moved, Harry could hear the words that fit the movements coming from the other end of the corridor - straight out of Sirius' mouth.
'If you want to know what's down there why don't you go and take a look?' Sirius said angrily.
Snape scoffed.
'In case you hadn't noticed, Black, that tree is somewhat lethal. If you think I'm stupid enough to go anywhere near it, you're stupider than I thought.'
'In case you hadn't noticed, Snape, there happens to be a large knot on the trunk. Poke it with a long stick and the Willow will freeze. Just slide down between the roots and follow the tunnel below. You want to see where Remus goes? Go take a good look.' He snarled.
Harry slowly looked from his godfather to the assassin and back again, recognising the use of the Diatribe Dictation curse, but why …
'All right,' said Snape coolly, smiling like a snake. 'I will.'
Turning his back on Sirius, Snape strode back down the corridor, a spiteful glint in his eye.
Seth Corbeau melted into the shadows as Snape passed by and disappeared down a staircase. His eyes shone with anticipation, a twisted smile of triumph on his face.
Harry felt as though the ground had fallen away from him as the realisation hit.
Seth moved silently after Snape, eyes gleaming like a cats through the darkness. Harry glanced back over his shoulder at his godfather. Sirius had resettled himself on the plinth, completely unaware that what he'd just told Snape had not been of his own free will.
Panic rising in his chest, Harry ran after the assassin. Taking the stairs three at a time, Harry knew he was making much more noise than was safe but he had something more important to worry about right now.
Harry emerged on another dimly lit corridor. The torches had been extinguished. He couldn't see the assassin or Snape anywhere; the passage was deserted. Which way had they gone?
Harry quickly took a few steps to the left then darted back up the right hand side. A chilling wave seemed to emanate from this direction. Without hesitation, Harry followed it.
Sprinting down the passage, the coldness swelled, washing over him like an invisible ocean wave, chilling him to the bone. Harry hurtled round a corner just as his skin felt like it was burning with the intense cold.
A lone figure was moving swiftly away from him.
Harry raised his wand.
'Stupefy!' he roared.
The spell blasted down the corridor in a blaze of fiery scarlet light, illuminating the walls as it went.
A mere foot from its intended target, the stunner was deflected. Seth Corbeau stood poised, his wand pointed towards Harry though his eyes darted up and down the seemly empty passage, looking for the source of the voice.
Harry shouted, 'Impedimenta!' and flung himself against the wall using a suit of armour as a shield. The moment the jet of light materialised, Seth sent a deadly hex to where it had originated, expertly blocking the jinx as his own flew harmlessly down the passage hitting only a bare patch on the wall at the far end.
Stealthily, the assassin moved slowly back up the corridor towards Harry, eyes moving over the tapestries, the armour and the paintings on the walls. The terrible fury on his face sent a quivering tremble of fear through Harry, desperately wishing he'd taken a moment to consider a better plan of action.
The assassin was almost upon him. Harry pressed himself up against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible, clutching the Invisibility Cloak to him. He brushed against the armour. It clinked softly.
Seth turned his fury-lined face to the sound. His eyes locked, unseeingly, onto Harry's crouched form. The assassin raised his wand.
Harry leapt up, throwing all his weight against the armour - the heavy battle suit fell forward, slammed into Seth and both of them crashed to the floor. A jet of light burst forth from Seth's wand as he fell. It lanced through the air, striking Harry in the side as he attempted to vault over the plinth and escape.
The smell of burning fabric assaulted his nose. The Cloak! Flames were licking at the silvery material, eating it up at a startling speed, the edges of the fabric suddenly turning visible as the fire touched it
Harry tore it off, throwing it to the floor. Vaguely wondering if he'd been burned at all, Harry froze as Seth flung the heavy armour off his body like it weighed nothing. Predatory eyes locked onto Harry's own, a terrible hunger evident within their depths.
Harry slowly backed away, keeping his wand up. He was shaking with fear and breathing in short, shallow gasps and suddenly gripped with a terrifying notion. This man meant to kill him. For some reason it had never occurred to Harry that anyone except Lord Voldemort would be responsible for his death. It just didn't seem to be a real possibility until now.
With fluid, predatory grace, the teenage disguise of the assassin rose from the floor and slowly advanced.
'Phoenix,' he hissed venomously, taking in the fiery scarlet and gold robes Harry still wore, 'So the Order saw fit to meddle with my task?' He cackled in a way that suggested to Harry that this man was not entirely sane. 'You're too late, do you hear me? Too late. My mission is complete. I shall return to my Lord and he will reward me greatly. But you, Phoenix, shall never return. Vulnus!'
The hex blasted towards Harry so fast he only just managed to dive out of the way, scrawling on the floor. The hex soared over his head but the relief was short lived. Another hex struck him where he lay, sending shock waves of pain pulsing through his body. Shaken and very disorientated, Harry slumped limply onto the cold floor. The hex was lifted a few moments later but the shock of it kept Harry down. Seth laughed, twirling his wand as he contemplated the best and most painful curse with which to destroy the Phoenix.
Harry's eyes darted frantically about the darkened corridor, praying that someone had heard the noise and was coming to investigate. But no one came. If Harry made a move, Seth was sure to kill him in an instant; the crazed assassin stood over him, savouring the fear in his prey's eyes.
This is it, Harry thought, despair crashing down on him. I've failed. The assassin's got his target and I'm going to die. Taking a deep breath, Harry tried not to think about Sirius, how upset he'd be, that they never had enough time -
Something hanging on the wall a few feet behind the assassin suddenly drew Harry's attention.
Before he'd even stopped to consider it, Harry, with a sudden burst of energy, dived forward, seizing Seth around the legs, bowling him over. With a startled yelp, the assassin fell heavily to the floor. Harry lunged and grabbed his wrist, forcing the wand up, slamming it against the wall, blurting out an incantation. A flare of pure white light erupted from the wand tip just as the fist that held it swung round and collided with the side of Harry's head.
*
'Hey! What's going on?'
Everyone in the Hall of Light looked up in alarm at Katie and Alicia. Both girls were quickly backing away from the golden framed mirror. The surface was churning like a storm tossed ocean, ripples flaring violently out of the centre point as a white light grew rapidly within it.
Arabella ran to the open door, calling urgently for Professor Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus. Next moment, Sirius came hurtling into the Hall, nearly running Arabella over, demanding to know what was happening. He froze at the sight of the mirror, or rather, the image that had formed upon its surface.
All the colour drained out of his face.
'Harry!'
On the other side of the glass his godson was struggling against an older boy who clearly had much more strength and, judging by the look on his face, rage fuelling his actions. Both boys were wrestling on the floor of a dark corridor, fighting hard to get back up on their feet. Harry was putting up a good fight; his nose was bleeding and a nasty bruise was rising on his cheek but he was doing his best to pull the boy's wand out of his hand, going for him with everything he had.
Professor Dumbledore and Remus came hurrying into the room, their eyes immediately drawn to the mirror. In silence, everyone slowly moved closer, gazing transfixed upon the battle.
*
Harry launched himself forward, landing on top of the assassin, grinding his knee into Seth's groin. Seth let out a bellow of agony - Harry seized his chance, yanking the wand out of his hand the second his grip weakened. Rolling off the assassin, Harry scrambled on all fours towards his own dropped wand.
Adrenaline leaning him strength, he leapt to his feet and moved to stand directly in line with Seth and the mirror behind him.
An intense wave of fury broke over Harry as Seth got to his feet, completely oblivious to the excruciating pain as his insatiable desire and need for the kill overpowered his mind. Like a savage beast, Seth crouched, a blazing haze of black light glowing about his form, a deadly curse forming on his tongue -
Harry froze for but a split second, then raised both wands -
'Expellere!'
The Banishing Charm shot from both wands simultaneously, striking the assassin with tremendous force. Seth was flung off his feet, thrown backwards - and into the mirror -
A cursing scream shattered the air like glass breaking; a blinding series of flashes shot across the mirror, Harry flung up his arms to shield his eyes, squeezing them shut but the light flared through his eyelids. He stumbled back against the far wall, a roaring sound like a wind storm pounding in his ears.
*
'What the hell? Everyone get back!' Gus bellowed, waving his arms frantically.
Everyone surged back, away from the mirror, all of them straining to continue watching, as though in slow motion, Harry crying out the Banishing Charm … his opponent being blasted off his feet - directly into the mirror …
A blazing flash of light erupted from the mirror with a deafening torrent of thunderous crashes. Everyone scrambled back, covering their faces to protect their eyes. There was a violent, torturous scream, shrieking in an unearthly wail … then, all of a sudden, everything went quiet.
For a moment no one dared move. Slowly, people lowered their hands from their eyes, hesitant as to look upon the mirror, afraid of what they might see.
Sirius pushed his way forward, pale as death as he approached the golden frame. The glass had been shattered, the cracks splayed out in an intricate spider web, greatly distorting the hazy image of a dark, empty passage.
'Harry?' Sirius whispered uncertainly, trying to make sense of the fragmented display. 'Harry? Can you hear me?' he spoke a little louder, not caring that he sounded panicked.
A distorted figure in scarlet and gold robes hesitantly appeared on the edge of the mirror, edging cautiously forwards.
'Harry!'
'Sirius!
Harry darted up to the mirror but pulled up short, not daring to touch the glass.
'Harry, are you all right? What happened?'
'I'm okay,' said Harry, his voice shaking with relief. 'Couple of bruises and a bloody nose but I'm still in one piece.'
'Where's that kid you were fighting?'
'The assassin? I don't know, he just vanished when he fell through the mirror -'
'Yeah, we saw. Harry, are you sure you're all right?'
'Yes.'
Dumbledore stepped up beside Sirius.
'Harry, I'm pleased to see that you're safe but what of Lily and James?'
Harry's eyes widened, his mouth forming a stunned gasp of horror, turning his head to look down the corridor.
'Oh no …' he whispered.
'What is it?' said Dumbledore. Everyone else in the room exchanged fearful looks. Sirius and Remus went rather pale.
Harry jerked his head to look back at the mirror.
'It wasn't them!'
A collective murmur of confusion and bafflement broke out.
'It's - It's not Lily and James?' said Remus, stunned. 'But then who …'
'There's no time! I'll explain later!'
Quick as a flash, Harry turned and disappeared from the mirror.
*
The Whomping Willow stood in the middle of the lawn, tall and silhouetted menacingly against the cold full moon above, its branches rustling in the cool night breeze.
The front doors of the castle were flung open and a lone figure came hurtling down the steps and pelting across the dark grassy slope. Sprinting faster than Harry had thought he was capable of and considerably out of breath, he was abruptly seized once again by a terrifying, heart-stopping panic.
The lawns were barren. Not another soul to be seen.
Gasping in short, ragged pants, Harry skidded to a halt just short of the Willows branches as they sensed his approach and lashed out. There was a long stick lying in the grass. Harry snatched it up. In his haste, his aim wavered precariously, missing the knot on the trunk by a long shot. It took several attempts before the knot was prodded, dead centre. The Willows branches froze. Dropping the stick, Harry threw himself forward, diving down between the roots.
Sliding down the earthy slope head first, Harry scrawled clumsily at the bottom, scrambled up, and though his muscles and lungs adamantly protested, he ran as fast as he was able, drawing his wand and lighting it.
The wand light bobbed erratically as he ran, showing only a few feet of the long empty tunnel in front of him.
Adrenaline surging through his veins was the only thing keeping his body moving while his mind resonated with but one question.
Was he too late?
An indescribable wave of relief flooded him as the circle of light caught up with a cloaked figure further up ahead.
'Snape!' His voice, breathless and croaky, nevertheless drew the teenagers' attention.
Snape's sharp profile turned. He slowed, stopped, and then turned right round to face Harry, a confused sort of sneer playing on his face.
'Potter?' He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the wand light. His own wand was alight in his other hand, held at his side.
'Snape, you can't go any further!' said Harry, moving forward to grab his arm. 'Come on! We have to get out of here.'
Snape recoiled, disgusted. Raising his wand, he aimed the light at Harry's face, squinting through the gloom. Harry self-consciously took a step back, not wanting Snape to see him too clearly if he thought that he was James. Luckily, the front of his Phoenix robes were smeared thickly with dirt which completely dulled the colour; in the semi light they appeared to be black. Harry could only hope that Snape wouldn't look too close.
'What do you think you're doing, Potter?' said Snape. 'Come to stop me, have you?'
'Yes,' said Harry urgently. 'Snape, please, you can't go any further.'
Snape folded his arms defiantly.
'Give me one good reason why not.'
'Just trust me, you don't want to see what's down there. Now, come on!'
Snape gave a derisive snort, laughing.
'Trust you? I wouldn't trust you to hit the ground if you fell from an airborne broomstick! And you're wrong; I do want to see what's down here.' He gave Harry a shrewd look. 'Unless of course, you want to tell me what little Remus has been hiding?'
Harry's patience was already worn thin. Striding forward, he seized Snape's arm with the full intention of dragging him all the back up the tunnel, willing or not.
'We don't have time for this crap! Just move!'
'Get off me, Potter!' Snape spat, twisting out of Harry's grasp. 'I don't know what you think you're doing but I'm not going back until I've seen what this little secret of yours is.'
And he turned and set off down the tunnel.
Infuriated, Harry made to follow, ready to use a stunning spell on him this time, when a frantic scuffling and rapid pounding of feet came out of the darkness behind him.
Without even thinking about it, Harry took a quick step to the side, pressing himself up against the wall, whispering 'Nox!' and the light from his wand extinguished. But not before he caught a glimpse of the person running full tilt towards him.
'Snape! Stop!'
There was an irritated sigh up ahead, Snape's wand light dim and flickering as he paused and called back over his shoulder.
'Potter, do you have cloth in your ears? Didn't I say -'
James Potter was still ten feet away when a rumbling growl sounded from up behind Snape, who instantly froze. Slowly, he turned towards the sound.
There was a flurry of movement and a blood-curdling howl, followed by the petrified screams of Snape as he stood rooted to the spot, frozen by fear.
'Snape! RUN!'
James grabbed the sleeve of Snape's robes and roughly pulled him away. Together, they raced back up the tunnel, darting past Harry who only just managed to avoid them, flattening himself to the wall.
He could hear loud sniffs and scufflings from where the werewolf was animatedly searching for its prey - the prey that had only just escaped with its life.
Shaken and numb with fright, Harry slowly raised his wand, pointing it up to the distant shadowy figure of the werewolf, hovering at the entrance hole into the Shrieking Shack. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated.
'Expecto Patronum!'
A silver stag burst forth in a flare of dazzling silver-white light, bounding up the tunnel. The werewolf raised its head and gave what sounded to Harry as a welcoming snarl, backing away from the hole as the Patronus leapt up to it.
Hoping that was enough to keep the werewolf occupied, Harry forced his weary legs to carry him quickly back to the Willow. Climbing up the slope took a long time, his body seemed to be shutting down like it wanted to just lay down anywhere and sleep.
As he stumbled back over the lawn up to the castle to collect the Nimbus from its hiding place, a thought suddenly occurred to him.
His mission was finally over
He had to go back.
But his mind didn't seem to be able to grasp the concept of it, not properly. All his energy seemed to have drained out of him, he was so tired. Part of him told him that he ought to very proud of himself; he'd just saved a boy's life. But he couldn't feel it. Not yet.
His gaze flicked up to Gryffindor Tower. A few lights glowed from inside the dormatories. A lone owl fluttered out of one of the windows. The night was still and silent once more.
Everything was as it should be.
Rubbing his eyes furiously, Harry looked over to the distance structure of the Quidditch stadium where the portal was waiting for him.
It was time to leave.
*
To Be Continued
*
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