Author's Note: Returning reviewer Occamy is joined this time by newcomers ManicGrace,
Phoenix Flight, Shiro Yuri and crazyfriendsfan. Does everyone know what is on the note? If not, you're about to find out.
***
Harry could scarcely breathe. It was as if a giant hand were squeezing his chest. His hands shook as they held the parchment at which he blinked in disbelief.
He looked up at Dumbledore.
"He'd never!" The words came in a wheezing croak, very nearly a sob.
"Would he not?" Dumbledore responded gently.
Harry's whole body now followed the example of his hands and began to tremble.
"It would seem, Harry," Dumbledore observed, "that you are truly blessed with wondrous friends. Perhaps compensation for all the loss you have suffered for so long."
Dumbledore's use of the word "compensation" stung Harry to his soul. How glibly had he himself used that word only hours ago. Was this to be on his head, then?
He numbly read the note for a third time:
Harry:
You will find Hermione in the Shrieking Shack, alive and well. I
heard Dumbledore tell you that the cosmic balance required a death. But
nobody said whose. So I'm stepping in for Hermione. Be good to her, or
I'll come back and haunt you!
Goodbye.
Your best mate,
Ron
"B-but how?" Harry stammered. "He couldn't..."
"We have much to learn before this matter is put to rest," Dumbledore averred.
"Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey rose from her desk chair and approached the Headmaster.
"Is Harry fit for release?" Dumbledore asked.
"As fit as may be expected under the circumstances," came the sad reply.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, turning from Madam Pomfrey, "please be dressed and ready to leave in fifteen minutes."
"Are we..." Harry said from a dry throat. "...are we going to the -- the Shrieking Shack?"
"Yes, Harry. But first, I have a very important errand. I shall return promptly."
Dumbledore strode through the doorway and saw Professor McGonagall approaching with a swift stride.
"I have spoken to all the Gryffindors," McGonagall announced, pausing to draw a breath. "None has seen Ron since last night. His bed has not been slept in. Ginny is beside herself with worry. His school bag is not to be found. And a search of Harry's trunk reveals that his Invisibility Cloak is gone."
"Along with the Marauders' Map as well, I'll wager," Dumbledore murmured into his beard.
"Albus?" McGonagall said severely. "Do speak up! I detest it when you mumble to yourself!"
"My apologies, Minerva," Dumbledore said, suppressing a smile. McGonagall was cognizant of the Cloak, of course, but she knew nothing of the Marauders' map, and Dumbledore thought it best that she remain ignorant.
"Well, then," McGonagall said in a more restrained voice, "you know what we must do..."
All vestige of humor faded as Dumbledore nodded solemnly.
"If what were done were best done," Dumbledore quoted, "t'were best done quickly."
The pair strode purposefully through the corridors until they came to a door that was devoid of knob or handle. It opened at a wave of the Headmaster's wand, and they entered with heads slightly bowed.
The room was hung with black tapestries that seemed to devour the dim light like a sea of parched tongues lapping at a misty rain. That feeble illumination came from a circle of black candles which hovered above a dais of polished jet. Upon this reposed a casket of lacquered ebony, its lid made fast. This opened soundlessly at a gesture from Dumbledore, and they peered over the rim with eyes clouded sorrowfully.
A figure lay within, wrapped from head to foot in white mummy-wrappings. Dumbledore passed his wand over the still form. The cloth strips unwound themselves, withdrawing into the wand from which they had come, revealing a face frozen forever in the serenity of death.
Professor McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a cry.
"Oh -- Albus!"
Dumbledore closed his eyes and re-wrapped the figure reverently.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said in a tired voice, "would you please go to the hospital wing and see if Harry is ready? I must go and fetch something from my office, then I shall join you all directly."
McGonagall, still distraught, nodded absently.
"How, Albus? How can this possibly be?"
"As yet, I know not," Dumbledore said as he locked the handleless door once more. "But we shall learn the truth very soon, I fear. For good or ill, the truth will be revealed."
Harry could scarcely breathe. It was as if a giant hand were squeezing his chest. His hands shook as they held the parchment at which he blinked in disbelief.
He looked up at Dumbledore.
"He'd never!" The words came in a wheezing croak, very nearly a sob.
"Would he not?" Dumbledore responded gently.
Harry's whole body now followed the example of his hands and began to tremble.
"It would seem, Harry," Dumbledore observed, "that you are truly blessed with wondrous friends. Perhaps compensation for all the loss you have suffered for so long."
Dumbledore's use of the word "compensation" stung Harry to his soul. How glibly had he himself used that word only hours ago. Was this to be on his head, then?
He numbly read the note for a third time:
Harry:
You will find Hermione in the Shrieking Shack, alive and well. I
heard Dumbledore tell you that the cosmic balance required a death. But
nobody said whose. So I'm stepping in for Hermione. Be good to her, or
I'll come back and haunt you!
Goodbye.
Your best mate,
Ron
"B-but how?" Harry stammered. "He couldn't..."
"We have much to learn before this matter is put to rest," Dumbledore averred.
"Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey rose from her desk chair and approached the Headmaster.
"Is Harry fit for release?" Dumbledore asked.
"As fit as may be expected under the circumstances," came the sad reply.
"Harry," Dumbledore said, turning from Madam Pomfrey, "please be dressed and ready to leave in fifteen minutes."
"Are we..." Harry said from a dry throat. "...are we going to the -- the Shrieking Shack?"
"Yes, Harry. But first, I have a very important errand. I shall return promptly."
Dumbledore strode through the doorway and saw Professor McGonagall approaching with a swift stride.
"I have spoken to all the Gryffindors," McGonagall announced, pausing to draw a breath. "None has seen Ron since last night. His bed has not been slept in. Ginny is beside herself with worry. His school bag is not to be found. And a search of Harry's trunk reveals that his Invisibility Cloak is gone."
"Along with the Marauders' Map as well, I'll wager," Dumbledore murmured into his beard.
"Albus?" McGonagall said severely. "Do speak up! I detest it when you mumble to yourself!"
"My apologies, Minerva," Dumbledore said, suppressing a smile. McGonagall was cognizant of the Cloak, of course, but she knew nothing of the Marauders' map, and Dumbledore thought it best that she remain ignorant.
"Well, then," McGonagall said in a more restrained voice, "you know what we must do..."
All vestige of humor faded as Dumbledore nodded solemnly.
"If what were done were best done," Dumbledore quoted, "t'were best done quickly."
The pair strode purposefully through the corridors until they came to a door that was devoid of knob or handle. It opened at a wave of the Headmaster's wand, and they entered with heads slightly bowed.
The room was hung with black tapestries that seemed to devour the dim light like a sea of parched tongues lapping at a misty rain. That feeble illumination came from a circle of black candles which hovered above a dais of polished jet. Upon this reposed a casket of lacquered ebony, its lid made fast. This opened soundlessly at a gesture from Dumbledore, and they peered over the rim with eyes clouded sorrowfully.
A figure lay within, wrapped from head to foot in white mummy-wrappings. Dumbledore passed his wand over the still form. The cloth strips unwound themselves, withdrawing into the wand from which they had come, revealing a face frozen forever in the serenity of death.
Professor McGonagall's hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a cry.
"Oh -- Albus!"
Dumbledore closed his eyes and re-wrapped the figure reverently.
"Minerva," Dumbledore said in a tired voice, "would you please go to the hospital wing and see if Harry is ready? I must go and fetch something from my office, then I shall join you all directly."
McGonagall, still distraught, nodded absently.
"How, Albus? How can this possibly be?"
"As yet, I know not," Dumbledore said as he locked the handleless door once more. "But we shall learn the truth very soon, I fear. For good or ill, the truth will be revealed."