Something in Harry's mind, some vague half-memory he had of one of Dudley's children's programmes told him that Voldemort reminded him oddly of a pirate. He wondered why. There was no eye patch, no wooden leg, no bottle of whiskey and Harry was certain that not many pirates had ever worn wizarding robes, but still… And then it clicked. There was a parrot sitting perched on his shoulder.
"Argh!" shrieked Hermione, as she saw this. "Her-Herbert? Herbert?"
Harry felt an unpleasant shock as he saw that Hermione was indeed right. The colourful bird was sat preening itself arrogantly on Voldemort's arm, not even looking at them, clacking his beak into his master's ear and swaying gently from one foot to another. Harry had never seen anything so innocent-looking – or so treacherous.
"Herbert?" repeated Voldemort, a mocking note of incredulity in his voice. He stroked Herbert's beak. "What a pathetic name for such a generous creature."
"Suits it," muttered Ron darkly.
"Suits it," mimicked Herbert at once, in exactly the same tone of voice.
Harry was thinking. "We should have known," he said, dully. "Remember, Hermione? In your owl you sent me… you said Crookshanks and Herbert didn't get on… That cat's got a better judgement of character than I'll ever have. It's twice now he's tried to warn us about stuff like that."
"I'll bet – " said Ron suddenly, "I'll bet that's how the Selkie and whatever that howling thing was knew where to find us – did you say anything about Sirius in your letter to Harry, Hermione?"
"Well, I – " Hermione looked acutely sheepish, and Harry knew that Ron was right.
"Never mind," he said, feeling sorry for Hermione, who had turned a peculiar shade of pink and wasn't looking at either of them. "It doesn't matter now. I think we should…" He trailed off, not being able to think of anything they could really do, and instead stared with a loathing so fierce it hurt at the wizard standing before him.
Voldemort looked much the same as he had done the last time Harry had seen him, after Peter Pettigrew, the man who had betrayed his parents to him, had used his own and Harry's blood to transform his master from a hideous mockery of a baby into the full-grown man he saw now. Harry dug his nails into his palms so hard they drew blood, and he forced himself to be calm. It was the first time he had not faced his enemy alone – he was in the company of five other people he cared for (and Snape) and he had no wish to do anything that might cause them harm.
So he waited, as everyone else was waiting, for Voldemort to speak first.
"Much as I enjoy your company," he said, to Harry's surprise, "I can't stay with you for long… at the moment. I fear I will have to leave you – but believe me, I will return. I have some… business I must attend to." His level gaze took them all in, lingering a little longer on Harry and Snape.
"But first," he continued, obviously enjoying the six identically resigned expressions, "I must congratulate you, Harry, on rising to my bait of the Dark Mark and leading your friends down here for me. Very nice of you."
"And what about Dumbledore?" asked Sirius. "Did you pretend to be him, too? To make Harry come down here?"
"I had no need," replied Voldemort, smiling. "My friend here – Herbert, as you call him – has an excellent talent for imitating voices, as I'm sure you're aware… He has been a most useful addition to my entourage."
Hermione clutched Harry's arm, tightly. He patted her hand, feeling slightly awkward.
"Not your fault," he whispered. "Remember Scabbers."
Ron had overheard. "Had me fooled for years," he said kindly. "Easy mistake to make, isn't it?" Hermione smiled at him gratefully, and transferred her hand from Harry's arm to Ron's.
"How touching," said Voldemort, who had observed the small scene. "Your little friend is right, Harry… It is an easy mistake to make, placing your trust in someone who doesn't deserve it… A pity your father never realised it."
Only Hagrid's pincer-like grip on both Harry and Sirius prevented the pair of them from springing forwards to attack Voldemort, and the wizard laughed at the sight.
"Then again," he said, "It is always useful to have people about you that you know will remain loyal… those who are too scared of what the consequences of betrayal might be. I myself have made your father's mistake, Harry: I placed my trust in some people who it appears did not merit it – isn't that right, Severus? You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"
Snape didn't reply.
Voldemort continued. "Yes," he said, "Loyalty can often be misplaced. All of you, now – " he waved an expansive arm around the room that encompassed all its occupants – "Have you never considered that you might be serving the wrong side? I can assure you, when I return to power I will reward those who recognise my might, just as I will punish those who went against me." Again, he directed another nasty look at Snape. "What about you?" he added, looking at Hagrid, who still had Harry in one hand and Sirius in the other. "Giants have traditionally sided with my kind… will you not join with me?"
Hagrid looked as though he'd just bitten into the wrong end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.
"I would rather," he said with dignity, "Eat a Hungarian Horntail." Coming from Hagrid and all his notorious views of such animals, this was saying quite a lot.
Voldemort's expression blackened. "Fool!" he cried. "Fool. One day, you will be made to see the error of your decision… and it will not be pleasant. I won't bother asking the werewolf," he added, looking now at Lupin with a sneer. "The self-righteous werewolf… doing all he can as a human to right all the wrongs he could commit as a wolf… but it cannot change the fact, can it? It cannot change the fact that, once a month, you become a Dark Creature yourself… Be very careful, werewolf. Be careful that your true instinct does not take over your façade of harmlessness; can you deny that you take pleasure in the thrill of the chase? In the blood of innocent creatures?"
"No," said Lupin, surprisingly cheerfully.
Voldemort looked just a little bit as though the wind had been taken out of his sails at this unexpected agreement. Harry, though, detected a certain look of despair as he peered closer at Lupin: some of Voldemort's words had obviously hit home.
"Well," said Voldemort. "I shall leave you… for now. As I say, I have a little business to attend to first…"
Odd though it seemed, Harry had stopped listening to Voldemort. He was fingering his scar with astonishment: for the pain from it was muted now: it seemed to have settled into a dull throb rather than the piercing agony Voldemort's presence had caused to begin with. Harry wondered why. Maybe Voldemort was not as powerful as he had been at their last encounter? Harry didn't know. But the thought gave him hope.
"… When I return, Potter," Voldemort was saying, as he refocused on the wizard's words. Harry stared back at him blankly. And then he was gone: no flash of light, no explosion – simply a nothingness that filled the space where he'd been standing.
As if suddenly released by a string, the small company collapsed down onto the stone floor and merely looked at each other: words were unnecessary and there was not much, Harry reflected, that could be said. Sirius, Snape, and Lupin looked grim: Ron and Hermione part scared and part furious, and Hagrid seemed to be wilting in relief. Harry felt the same way.
Suddenly, he noticed that Ron and Hermione's expressions had changed, and they were staring at him in dismay. Or rather, they were staring at something: as neither made eye contact, Harry couldn't possibly imagine what.
"Is anything wrong?" he asked, worried at his friends' stricken faces.
"Er – nothing," said Ron, with the look of one who didn't want to break bad news.
"What?" insisted Harry, impatiently. He followed Ron's gaze to his robe pocket just as his friend tore his gaze away from it. And Harry groaned aloud.
"The Invisibility Cloak! If only I'd remembered it…" He sank down, dejected, into the floor, welcoming its hardness. Of all the stupid things… they could all be safe now, if it hadn't been for his stupidity in forgetting about it… He groaned again, and then was silent. He felt horribly guilty about the whole thing: he also had no idea why Voldemort hadn't killed the 'spares' – Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Snape and Lupin – as he had done Cedric Diggory.
Sighing at the injustice and confusion of it all, Harry rocked backwards and forwards on his heels, hugging his knees. What could happen? Surely their only hope now lay in a rescue from Dumbledore – when he'd finished doing whatever he had been doing, and if he knew where to look for them. Judging from the twists and turns they'd taken on their way down to the dungeons, Harry thought this possibility very unlikely.
How long he sat like this Harry could not tell: but, when he finally readjusted his thoughts onto the present situation, he realised to his surprise that some time had passed. Frustrations were evidently running high. Sirius and Snape were bristling whenever they looked at each other; it seemed all they could do to ignore the other man instead of attack him.
"I wonder to what extent the blocking curse is effective," said Snape finally. The words were ground out: he seemed to be attempting to help almost in spite of himself. Sirius didn't say anything.
"We might try something," continued Snape, the words coming out even more reluctantly than before. Harry could tell he was annoyed at Sirius's lack of response.
"Voldemort's got my wand," replied Harry's godfather tonelessly, as though he hadn't really heard, or didn't think the comment worthy of a longer answer.
"Voldemort didn't take my wand," Snape reminded him. "Only yours and Lupin's."
"Oh – I wonder why?" There was a distinctly nasty glint to Sirius's eye as he spoke – but, to Harry's intense surprise, Snape did not pick up on the remark straight away. He looked as though he was about to speak, when Ron jumped in excitedly.
"You could apparate!" he said. "And go and get Dumbledore."
"You can't apparate in Hogwarts," reminded Snape disdainfully. "What I was about to suggest was that – "
"He would if he could, Ron," said Sirius grimly, completely ignoring the Professor. "A very sensible suggestion."
Ron looked nervously at Snape, as the Potions master flashed both him and Sirius an equally vindictive glare.
"And you wouldn't, I suppose?" he retorted spitefully. "If only you had a little patience, Black, you might be able to hear what I am attempting to tell you, and you might find it to your advantage. But then; patience was never one of your stronger points, was it? Maybe if you'd had a little more patience at keeping Potter's secrets then – "
"ENOUGH!" roared Sirius. He was shaking. "How dare you? How – "
"What were yeh goin' to say, Professor?" asked Hagrid, his deep rumbling voice easily drowning out Sirius's furious shouts and surreptitiously flapping his hand at Lupin to get him to try and calm Sirius down.
"Yes," added Hermione. "It sounded very – er – interesting."
"Do tell," said Lupin, but through clenched teeth: he sounded as annoyed as Harry had ever heard him at Snape's insinuations. Sirius only growled.
"I was merely going to suggest," said Snape coolly, "That I tried a summoning spell. We know that some spells work and others do not: it would appear that obscure forms of the more common charms have some effect. I don't see why we shouldn't try it."
"And what would you summon?" asked Sirius, apparently calm again.
"I am open to suggestions," said Snape.
The only thing Harry could think of that he really wanted was, at that precise moment in time, a bed – but Snape had a point. It was worth a go.
"Try something simple first," suggested Lupin. "And see if it works."
Snape nodded, and waved his wand. Nothing happened. He tried again, concentrating so hard that his face went almost white – but to no avail. Snape stormed away into a corner. The summoning charm would not work, and Harry could not think of another way they could possibly get out of this one… Utterly dejected, he looked at Ron and Hermione where they sat by Hagrid. Both seemed as miserable as he did: Hermione's face had gone blank, a sure sign that her mind was elsewhere – probably trying to think of more spells, thought Harry – and Ron's forehead was furrowed into deep lines of worry.
Harry sighed, and turned his scrutiny towards Lupin. He was looking ill again. In fact…
"Oh, no," moaned Hermione, suddenly looking up as though reading his mind. "You know what tonight is…"
Lupin's tired, shadowed eyes turned to look at them. "Yes," he said. "I had hoped that we would be back in safety by now, but finding you proved to be slightly more difficult than we'd envisaged… And I haven't taken the potion, either. Sirius, you'll have to do something… A pity there's not an extra room here."
Sirius nodded. "I know," he agreed. "And there's no way you can apparate?"
Lupin shook his head, miserably. "Voldemort has my wand," he reminded him. "And besides, quite apart from no one being able to apparate or disapparate at Hogwarts – he's obviously done something to stop us from using any kind of strong magic: Severus couldn't summon anything just now, could he? I'm sorry," he added to Harry, who was listening, "That you'll have to see me transform. It isn't a pleasant sight."
Snape suddenly reappeared from out of nowhere, looking smugly at Lupin.
"Having problems?" he asked silkily, grinning a predatory grin. Harry looked at him with distaste.
"No, thank you, Severus," said Lupin mildly.
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," growled Sirius.
Snape didn't quite lose his smile, despite the undisguised hostility of Sirius's reply.
"Ah," he said. "Because I would have thought that – it being the night of a full moon – I would have thought that you might be having a few technical difficulties. Obviously I was wrong. Might I enquire, however, how exactly you intend to restrain the wolf – how you intend to stop him attacking us all?"
"No," said Sirius. "Not really." He was frowning: he looked as though he were trying to work it out himself.
"I only ask," continued Snape sweetly, "Because I seem to recall that you don't have a wand with you. Furthermore, as we have established, I believe there is some kind of blocking charm at work here… Still; if you're sure you have the situation under control, I'll leave you to it."
"Severus!" called Lupin, as he turned away. "Wait – please." The look on Snape's face at this request was an odd combination of hunger and pleasure, and Harry wondered why. Perhaps Snape enjoyed people talking to him politely and as though they actually needed him, or perhaps he merely liked the position he had of Lupin asking him a favour. As Lupin was nearly always polite to him, Harry suspected the latter of the two options.
"Yes?" he enquired lazily. Sirius was frowning at both men, and Harry looked between the three of them nervously.
"Could you lend Sirius your wand? So he can stop me from attacking you all when I transform?" Lupin looked terribly guilty already, as though anticipating the prospect. Harry sympathised. He didn't really want to be locked in a small room with a hungry and unrestrained werewolf.
"No," said Snape.
"God's sake, man!" exploded Sirius. "Do you want him to savage you?"
Snape regarded him coldly. "Like you'd care if he did," he said. "I wouldn't trust you to secure him properly – not with your past history. I wouldn't put it past you to turn him on us – while you remain safe in your dog form. No. I won't lend you my wand."
Sirius's eyes had widened incredulously and Harry realised that he was genuinely too angry to speak, or even attack Snape.
"You'd sacrifice your own life – and everyone else's – just to prove a point?" asked Lupin, quietly. "Very well. Harry – will you lend Sirius your wand?"
It obviously hadn't occurred to Snape that they might resort to this option, because he lost a little of the smug look he'd carried, and said quickly:
"There is no need for that. I was about to offer to do it myself: Then at least I can make sure it's done properly. I doubt Potter or anyone else has the necessary knowledge to perform the task – " He frowned so savagely at Hermione as she opened her mouth to disagree that she subsided quite quickly – "And, as I've said – even if Black does borrow Potter's wand, I shan't be satisfied until I have added my own restrictions."
"Fine," said Lupin. "But let me suggest that you do it quickly: it must be nearly dark by now. The moon will rise soon. Do you know any charm that won't be affected by blocking curse?"
Sirius was snapped out of his trance at Lupin's mention of the time, and forced himself to look at Snape.
"Well?" he snarled. "Do you?"
Snape shrugged. "I'm sure that the normal charm will work. If Weasley can conjur coffee out of thin air then I'm sure we can accomplish something as simple as a few chains. I think it's just stronger magic that has been blocked. Why don't we find out?"
Sirius looked at him for a moment, then shrugged back. "Fine," he said.
Snape stared about him. "Let's see…" he said softly, his gaze alighting on the dungeon's walls, and a coil of metals chains affixed to one of them. "Yes… that should do… Well, if you're ready, Black? Lupin?"
Harry turned away to talk to Ron and Hermione, who were still sitting hunched up and miserable with Hagrid. He didn't want to embarrass Lupin by watching him be humiliated by Snape – which had obviously been the Potions master's intent – and instead joined in the others' silence, which was just as depressing. Several times Harry opened his mouth to speak, but on each occasion he closed it again before any words ensued. He couldn't think of anything appropriate to say.
"Harry?" called Sirius, with a hint of laughter in his voice. Harry twisted round to behold the rather bizarre sight of Snape and Lupin swathed in the chains, and stared blankly at his godfather.
"What happened?" he enquired.
"Snape got a bit too enthusiastic. Can I borrow your wand? He still won't let me have his – but I'd better get him out of there, I suppose – Moony'll be transforming soon…"
Harry handed him his wand. It seemed that even a simple spell like the one Snape was trying to accomplish was not easy.
Soon the Potions master was detached from the chains and glaring at Sirius as though it was his fault he had ever been entangled with them in the first place.
"Shall we continue?" he spat, turning to Lupin and giving an annoyed flick of his hand. A chain wound its way round Lupin's thin body, and soon it was joined by many more. Sirius watched the entire procedure with a frown and an air of impatience; but, more for Lupin's sake than his own, Harry suspected, he said nothing to Snape. When he was apparently satisfied, Snape gave the soon-to-be wolf a long look up and down, allowed a thin smile to grace his lips and moved away to sit down. When he had gone, Lupin smiled at the other two.
"What time is it?" he asked. Sirius looked at his watch.
"Almost nine, now," he replied.
"Well, Harry, it seems that I'll be in an ideal position to give you a practical lesson on werewolves, in about half an hour, I'd say. I won't hold it against you if you choose not to attend…"
Harry laughed. They stayed with Lupin for another five minutes that seemed to drag on into eternity, and then Lupin made to look at his own watch. Moving his wrist to his face, he suddenly jumped in surprise – and so, too, did Harry and Sirius: for the chains had snapped, and a kind of despair covered Lupin's face.
"We need something a little stronger," he said, as the rest of the chains disintegrated. "Or I don't like to think what could happen."
Neither did Harry. Leaving it to Snape and Sirius to sort out, he rejoined his other friends – who, apparently fed up with their quiet, were now listening to Hagrid telling them about his hopes for next year's Care of Magical Creatures classes and the possibility of rearing a species of pygmy dragons. Morosely, Harry wondered if they would even face a next year, and he sat down a little way away from them, expression bleak.
Sirius came to sit down next to him.
"Did you fix the chains?" asked Harry, more for the chance of conversation than because he really wanted to know.
"Snape's dealing with it," was all Sirius said, and then abruptly changed the subject. "Harry – I don't know why Voldemort hasn't killed the rest of us, if all he wants is you. All I can guess is that he intends to use us for something. But you must promise me now – that you won't do anything foolish – "
Harry laughed, darkly. "Foolish," he repeated. "Well, I'll try…"
"You know what I mean," said Sirius. His face was deadly serious. "Voldemort will be back – I'm guessing tonight – I don't think he plans to starve us to death… But he can't be in his full power yet or he wouldn't have gone to all these lengths. And we would all – and especially you – certainly be dead by now. If only Dumbledore were here – " He broke off, distractedly, and gazed around as though he expected the Headmaster to appear out of nowhere. But there was nothing.
Harry looked moodily around him. He had caught the gist of what Sirius was saying: in his own way, his godfather was urging him to do whatever was necessary – do what only Harry would have the strength to do – against Voldemort – and not worry about the consequences. Not worry about what might happen to himself, or Ron or Hermione, or Hagrid, or Lupin – or even Snape. Harry frowned as he considered the last name. Would he feel guilty if Voldemort did anything to Snape? After all, he had been a Death Eater…
Had been a Death Eater, repeated Harry to himself. Had been. Wasn't any more. Yes, he'd feel bad if Voldemort decided to harm the Professor in any way… Harry wouldn't wish his parents' fate on anyone. The screams and shouts he had heard the year before last, when he'd been anywhere near a Dementor… Harry shuddered as he recalled them. They were still too vivid: his mother begging Voldemort to take her instead of Harry, his father trying to protect them both – and then the laugh of Voldemort as he ignored them. No. Harry did not want that to happen to Snape.
The Professor just couldn't seem to get the measure of his attitude towards them right. One minute he was amiable enough: the next, he was busy chaining up Remus Lupin and enjoying every minute of doing so. Cornelius Fudge had been right that time, thought Harry, when he had helped Sirius escape and Snape had all but had an epileptic fit as a result. The man must be unbalanced.
"Why's he have to look like he's having such a good time?" said Ron, suddenly there beside him, scowling at Snape as he conjured chains from the end of his wand. "I'd have thought after all we've been through, surely he'd have stopped trying to get at him all the time?"
Sirius shook his head sadly.
"I don't know," he said. "I sometimes wonder, if Snape could only see what Remus has to go through when he transforms, he wouldn't treat him like… like he does. It's terrible, Ron. Takes years off your life just to watch it…" He stood up, and shook himself, abruptly.
"Come on," he said. "We ought to give him some privacy… he always hated being watched when he transformed. I'll change myself when he's finished – I should keep him company, make it better for him."
Ron and Harry were only too glad to go and join Hermione and Hagrid instead. They had no wish to witness Lupin transform. Sirius sat with them for a while, distracting them while, in the background, they heard the first wolf-like sounds coming from their old professor.
"I think I'll transform now," said Sirius. "Try and calm him down… I shouldn't imagine he'll be too happy when he finds he's tied up like that." He frowned to himself, and then froze. Scowling even more, Harry watched curiously as he obviously battled with something.
" – Damn – " Sirius looked like he was struggling very hard. Finally he seemed to give up. "Can't even do that," he growled – and although this sound was suspiciously canine, Harry admitted he wasn't even remotely resembling the big black dog he was used to seeing. Sirius gazed miserably at where his friend was now fully-fledged wolf, and Snape was adding the finishing touches to his restraints.
"There," he said, rubbing his hands together. "That should hold." And he retired to his corner and ignored them.
The next few hours passed as a monotonous and incredibly noisy blur for Harry. He was exhausted but he couldn't sleep: resolutely determined not to look at Lupin as a wolf in case it affected the way he saw him as a man, Harry had his back to the creature. But this did not stop the howls from penetrating his ears: the anguished sound did nothing to ease the apprehension that seemed to fill every square inch of Harry's body, and combined with the now familiar throb in his temple they caused him to feel slightly nauseous. He needed a distraction.
"Why didn't You-Know-Who take our wands?" mused Ron loudly, over the noise. "Did he forget?"
"I doubt it," said Sirius glumly. "I don't think he needs to. He's done something the field of magic down here… the strongest thing we've been able to do is chain Moony up – you couldn't even get light except by using a non-standard spell, could you? I'm not quite sure, to be honest, Ron. I don't pretend to even begin to understand how Voldemort's mind works. And we're probably better off not knowing."
Harry fervently agreed. He dozed off into a semi-conscious slumber for perhaps an hour: more out of the desire to avoid conversation with any of his friends than anything else, and partially also to try and block out the howls coming from the wolf. It didn't work: they sunk into his subconsciousness and turned themselves into a siren in his hazy dreams. Number Four Privet Drive was on fire, and the engines' were screaming their way to the rescue… But they weren't in time. The house was engulfed in flames. Harry stared at it numbly. His family – even family such as it had been – all gone, now. All dead. All because of him.