Harry Potter & the Dark Lord – Chapter 25
~Friends and Enemies~
Disclaimer: Characters,
scenery, settings, etc. are all borrowed from Joanne Rowling.
A/N: When we last
saw our favorite almost-couple, they had inadvertently stumbled upon the
dastardly and admittedly foolhardy plan to use Harry as 'live bait',
potentially turning the 'Boy Who Lived' into the 'Boy Who Was Killed By The
Ministry's Ineptitude'. Ron and
Hermione were busy celebrating the sixteenth birthday of the tallest member of
the dream team (::sigh:: they grow up so fast). And Ayleeandra, thank you for providing the
perfect description for my vision of Harry & Ginny – "more-than-friendship-but-not-quite-romance" – couldn't've said it better myself.
I
know it's been awhile (sorry, life has this nasty habit of intruding when you
least expect or want it to), so here's the quote!
"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper;
Ron, however, spoke to Black.
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us,
too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing up had drained him of
still more colour, and he swayed slightly as he spoke.
Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes.
"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more."
"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was
clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright.
"You'll have to kill all three of us!"
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of
Azkaban
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Harry was in a bit of a shock after the conversation he had
just heard. He couldn't believe that
the Ministry could even consider the idea plausible, although once he
remembered that Cornelius Fudge was still in charge, it wasn't as surprising. But what surprised him more was Snape's response. While the potions master's defense of him
was not very flattering, Harry was shocked to hear Snape protecting him from
Professor Fletcher of all people. He
hadn't gotten to know Professor Fletcher very well, but seeing as he was part
of Dumbledore's inner circle, he would've assumed the wizard had more sense.
"Harry?" Ginny ventured cautiously. Harry glanced down at her worried face,
realizing he still hadn't answered her question.
"I don't see as there's much we can do," he said, rubbing
his chin thoughtfully. He could
play along with Fletcher's plan to see what else he could find out, but he
wasn't about to tell Ginny that.
The small red haired girl was wringing her hands, looking
around at the rows of books surrounding them as if one might hold the
answer. A spark of hope appeared on her
face and she blurted out, "Ron'll know what to do!"
Harry stared at her for a second before a big grin spread
across his face. Ginny turned scarlet
and she opened her mouth wordlessly, vainly trying to take the words back.
"Ron?" Harry asked bemusedly. "Since when do you think that highly of him?"
Ginny scrunched her nose at Harry, looking for a moment
much younger than her fourteen years.
"I know it must sound silly," she mumbled, "it's just…well, after Percy
came to Hogwarts, and Fred and George were being, you know – Fred and George,
Ron always knew what to do."
"It's not silly," Harry said quietly. He grinned as he lifted Ginny's chin up with
his thumb. "I've been known to ask that
prat for advice myself occasionally.
Come on, I'll bet he and Hermione are still in the common room."
Ginny's brown eyes lit up as she hurried alongside Harry,
ignoring Madam Pince, who looked as if she were ready to cuff them for running
in the library. They sped back the way
they came, carefully avoiding the corridor where Snape and Fletcher had been
arguing, and were back in the common room in no time.
"That was quick," Ron commented, his ears blood red as he
hastily pushed Hermione off his lap.
The bushy-haired prefect struggled to maintain her balance as she landed
on the edge of the armchair, grabbing onto the sleeve of Ron's robes to keep
from falling. There was a loud rip as
the sleeve tore and a thud as Hermione landed in a heap on the floor.
"You are back rather early," Hermione said, pulling
herself back onto the armchair quickly as she tried to preserve a shred of
dignity. Ron helped straighten her
robes, which had twisted around her body.
She pushed his hands away, struggling to control the blush rising in her
cheeks.
Ginny and Harry shared an amused glance before turning to
the embarrassed couple. "It's all right
for your girlfriend to sit on your lap, you know," Harry teased. "We don't mind."
"Right," Ron answered, "er, I mean, we weren't…" The red
headed boy was rapidly becoming red faced.
"I was just…" Hermione tried, heat radiating from her face,
"er, that is, he needed help with his homework and I couldn't see the book…"
"The homework Ron banned on his birthday?" Ginny asked
smiling. She turned her head aside as
her best friend stared daggers at her, trying hard to control her chuckling.
"So what are you doing here anyway?" Ron asked, acting as
if the entire exchange hadn't taken place.
Harry quickly recounted what he had overheard. When he was done, Ron shook his head and let
out a long, slow whistle.
"I knew Fletcher was a little off his rocker, but still…"
"I don't like this," Hermione whispered, "I don't like this
at all."
"So what should we do?" Ginny asked, her eyes searching her
big brother's face imploringly.
"We keep Fletcher away from Harry, that's what!" Hermione
sputtered. "Dumbledore obviously agrees
with us."
Harry and Ron shared a glance that conveyed their thoughts
wordlessly. "You're right," Harry
answered. "I'll just steer clear of
Fletcher and we'll be fine."
Harry waited nervously as Ginny and Hermione eyed him with
narrowed eyes. Perhaps he shouldn't
have given in so quickly, he thought.
"So we're not going to do anything?" Ginny asked
slowly. With another glance at Ron,
Harry nodded slowly.
"Like Hermione said," Ron answered, "Dumbledore knows
what's happening, so Harry'll be fine."
Hermione and Ginny shared their own disbelieving look, but
their male counterparts decided there was nothing further to discuss. The arrival of Fred and George, excited over
the success of the Wild Weasley Earwings, put the discussion to bed, and the
rest of Ron's birthday was wiled away amidst much laughter and many explosions.
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Now that Snape had returned to the Potions lessons, Harry
saw very little of Professor Fletcher.
He and Ron had a difficult time speaking to the eccentric substitute
teacher. Members of the staff
surrounded the man every time they saw him.
Harry and Ron were thus forced to squelch their curiosity for the time
being. But, despite their assurances to
Hermione and Ginny, the teenage boys had no intentions of letting the matter
drop. As soon as the first opportunity
arose, Harry and Ron had discussed at length how they could learn more about
the Ministry's plan. The more they
knew, the better prepared they could be, the two boys rationalized.
Harry and Ron found themselves hovering near the staff
table during meals and constantly passing by the staff room on their way to
classes. More than once, Hermione or
Ginny had very nearly guessed what they were up to, so they began making up
extra Quidditch practices to get a chance to freely seek out the elusive
Mundungus Fletcher. Fred and George
agreed to play along with the Quidditch practice story for a small fee, as well
as a promise to be the first told of anything the younger Gryffindors
discovered. Over a month passed in this
manner, and Harry and Ron's nerves were shot from keeping up the deception.
Harry sat in the Great Hall, picking at his jacket potato
listlessly. The Quidditch final against
Slytherin was fast approaching, and actual practices were starting to outweigh
the pretend ones he and Ron had concocted.
The previous night's session had been particularly grueling – it had
rained non-stop the entire evening, and both Harry and Ron had kept the other
boys in the dormitory awake with their sneezing. Hermione had immediately sent Harry and all the Weasley boys to
Madam Pomfrey for some Pepperup Potion first thing in the morning when she had
seen the state they were in, and a faint stream of smoke was still floating up
from Harry's ears. Harry was
interrupted from his rapidly cooling meal by a sharp kick to his shin.
"Ouch!" he shouted.
He stifled his yell quickly when he saw Ron's expression. His best friend tilted his head casually
toward the staff table, where most of the professors were in the middle of a
hearty meal to ward off the day's unseasonable chill. Harry offhandedly looked around the Great Hall, as if just
taking in his surroundings, before turning back to Ron. He nodded at the tall boy,
comprehending. Snape had just begun his
dinner, and Fletcher was nowhere to be seen.
"I'm knackered," Ron proclaimed, stretching his arms as he
suppressed a yawn. "Harry and I are
gonna head upstairs. You go ahead and
finish your meal…no hurry."
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, pushing her plate of
roast beef and Yorkshire pudding aside.
She gazed up at her boyfriend with concern evident on her face.
"Don't worry about him," Ginny dismissed. "He practically swallowed his dinner…he
always gets tired after a big meal…"
"Yeah," Ron said casually, although he glared at
Ginny. "A little nap is all I need…"
"If you're sure," Hermione conceded. Ron just nodded and leaned forward to give
her a peck on the cheek.
"Awww, if it isn't the Weasel giving his girlfriend a good
bye kiss. Can't stand being apart for
even a minute, can you?" Draco Malfoy's
familiar drawl seemed to drop the temperature in the Great Hall by ten degrees,
and Hermione had to forcibly push Ron back into his seat to keep him from
pouncing on the pale Slytherin.
"Really," he continued, rather insincerely, "it warms my heart to see
you together. After all, if even the
two of you found each other, there's got to be hope for losers like
Potter. What's the matter Potty, won't
your little Weasel girlfriend let you give her a good bye kiss? Or isn't the great Harry Potter man enough
for her? Playing the field, are you
Weaslette? I would too, if Potter was
all I had." Ginny's cheeks blushed
furiously, although her eyes blazed in anger.
"Leave Ginny alone" Harry said through clenched teeth.
"Don't worry, I won't make the Weaslette cry, Potter,"
Draco continued, glancing at Crabbe and Goyle to make sure they were taking in
his performance. "Or do you want
me to make her cry? Comforting a girl
is always a good excuse to get your paws on her…might be your only chance…"
Harry and Ron simultaneously jumped from their seats, fists
flying, their fairer halves unable to stop them. Ron, having a longer reach, would have been the first to connect
with the pointy nose that hovered so tantalizingly in front of him. However, a well-timed blocking curse caused
the red head's fist to slam into an invisible barrier.
"Damn it!" he swore, massaging his sore knuckles
frantically as his eyes began to tear.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Mister Weasley." It was Professor Figg, who, even
straightened to her full height, had to tilt her head up slightly to gaze
furiously into her student's eyes.
"It's a good thing you arrived when you did, Professor,"
Malfoy began, using his best kissing-up-to-the-teacher voice. Crabbe and Goyle stood obediently by
Malfoy's side, nodding dutifully as he continued. "Not that I couldn't handle Ronald on my own, but I know using
magic against a fellow student isn't conduct befitting a Hogwarts student, and
of course, I would never stoop to physical violence…"
"Save your breath, Mister Malfoy," Professor Figg
interrupted coolly, "I heard what was going on here. Now head back to your table before I get the head of your house
involved." The pale-haired Slytherin
barely disguised his contempt for the professor as he turned on his heel and,
hulking cohorts directly behind, headed back to his table.
"Now, as for you lot," the professor began, eyeing Ron and
Harry shrewdly as they struggled to paint innocent expressions on their
faces. Harry couldn't help but steal a
glance towards the staff table, where Professor Snape was still working on his
over-filled plate, looking as sour as ever as he stared dully at his fork.
"We know we shouldn't have risen to his baiting,
Professor," Harry answered, putting on the puppy dog face that always seemed to
work on Hermione. Ron caught on quickly
and assumed the same sorrowful stance, staring at the floor with his shoulders
drooping. "We promise to be more
careful next time."
The plump witch maintained her stern face, but she
relented. "Humph. Likely story. Just stay out of trouble.
The headmaster's got his hands full without worrying about a bunch of
hotheaded teenagers." With that, she
left the friends, watching them over her shoulder until she walked out of the
Great Hall.
"That was close," Ron sighed.
"I'll say," Hermione added. "Are you still heading up?
I'm just about done…"
"No, stay Hermione," Ron answered kindly. "Harry and I are gonna go straight to bed
anyhow, and Ginny hasn't finished yet."
His sister seemed quite indifferent to Hermione's staying or going, but
the words had an effect on Hermione.
"Oh, I'm sorry Ginny," said Hermione, looking at the
younger girl guiltily. "Of course, I'll
stay with you." Ginny just shrugged,
watching Ron and Harry as they scurried quickly out of the Great Hall.
"That was really close," Harry said to Ron once they
were safely in the entrance hall.
Ron nodded his assent.
"Snape looked like he was about to start on pudding…we haven't much
time."
They hurried down the corridors, making their way down to
the Potions classroom and Snape's office.
Harry slowed down as they drew nearer to the office, hearing Fletcher's
voice echoing off the stone walls. Ron
crept up behind his friend and waited quietly, pushing him aside as he tried to
get closer to the door.
"Quit shoving," Harry muttered, and Ron shifted so he and
Harry stood side by side. They both
strained to hear who was with Fletcher.
The person didn't say much; in fact, they said nothing at all – Fletcher
seemed to be speaking to himself.
"Stop looking at me like that!" they heard Fletcher
shout. "I haven't done anything
wrong. I'm respecting that batty old
headmaster's wishes for now. It's not
that I want the boy dead or anything – heavens, no – but, really, we've
got to look at the big picture, don't you agree? I told you to stop looking at
me that way!"
The two Gryffindors eyed each other curiously. Harry remembered hearing stories about the
eccentric wizard – perhaps he had finally slipped over the edge.
"Come now, how long have we known each other?" Fletcher
continued. "Ten, fifteen years? Have you ever known me to act
irrationally? Where are you going? Well, fine, then!"
Harry nearly shouted out in surprise as something brushed
against his leg. He looked down to see
a ball of ginger fur walking past him and down the corridor. It was Crookshanks, walking out of Snape's
office with his head held high. Ron
sniggered, and Harry had to work hard to stifle his own laughter at the thought
of their sometime professor losing an argument with a cat. After a few minutes of silent amusement, the
boys managed to control themselves and prepared to go in and speak to Fletcher.
Just as Harry stepped forward something jerked him
backward. "Ow!" he yelled, as his head
snapped back. Ron spun around swiftly,
wand in hand.
"Er, Professor Snape," Ron began jerkily. "We, we were just looking for you."
"So it would appear," Snape answered silkily, taking his time
letting go of his grip on Harry's hair.
"But seeing as I was still in the Great Hall when the two of you stormed
out, you must have been quite confident that I had a quicker way down here if
you expected to find me in my office."
One side of Snape's mouth lifted in a gleeful sneer. He casually put his hands in his robe
pockets, as he watched the Gryffindors' distress.
"We, er…"
"I thought I heard voices out here," said Fletcher
as he emerged out of the office. Harry
unconsciously took a half step back – Fletcher's expression reminded him far
too much of Hedwig when she was about to swoop down on a defenseless rodent.
Snape's smile faltered for a half-second. "I was just enquiring as to the purpose of
this unexpected visit," the potions master said disdainfully.
"Ah, well I can answer that," Fletcher responded,
beaming. "I promised the boys I would
give them a bit of help with their assignment.
Being as you're so busy with classes and all, I thought I might take
that burden off you."
Harry and Ron stared at Fletcher in confusion. Ron caught on first. "Yes, that's right. Professor Fletcher asked us to come down…"
"Did he, now?" Snape asked, his lips pressed together in a
thin smile. "Was my explanation of the
assignment unclear?"
"Now Severus, I wasn't implying…" Fletcher began
nervously. "That is to say….perhaps
you're right. Growing boys shouldn't be
cooped up in a dungeon. They should be
getting fresh air."
"Potter and Weasley have been restricted from the grounds
since the last time they were caught breaking the rules. I think we're all aware of that," Snape
challenged. Snape and the shorter man
were watching each other coldly, eyes locked.
Harry and Ron's presence was seemingly forgotten.
"Yes, indeed you are correct Severus," Fletcher said
nervously. "I was about to suggest I
escort them. I do believe they are
allowed out if they are chaperoned by a member of the staff…"
"That's right," Ron said, looking at Fletcher eagerly. Harry held his breath, praying he'd get a
chance to speak to Fletcher and find out what he knew.
"I don't think that would be wise," Snape continued, his
eyes glittering dangerously. "There's a
chill in the air. We wouldn't want two
Gryffindor players to become ill so close to the championship match, would we?"
Snape's expression was deadly. Something flickered in Fletcher's eyes, but his resolve seemed to
stiffen and he turned to Harry and Ron.
"Now Severus," Fletcher said, although he was looking meaningfully
at Harry, "I don't see the harm in a short walk, perhaps by the lake. Yes, I think a walk around the lake would do
them good."
"That's enough, Fletcher," Snape hissed, his eyes as cold
as steel as he glared at the wizard.
"Potter, Weasley, back to your common room at once. If I find out you've been wandering where
you don't belong…"
Snape's gaze sent ice through Harry's veins. Harry didn't need to hear the rest of
Snape's sentence to know this was not the time to argue.
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"Harry, do you remember seeing anything down there?"
Ron asked.
Harry sighed deeply.
"For the tenth time, all I saw were merpeople, grindylows…nothing you
don't already know about."
"There must be something we're missing," Ron said,
tapping his quill nervously on the table.
"What does the lake have to do with anything? Cho's dream, and now Fletcher.
I wish we'd had a chance to speak to him."
Harry didn't answer.
Hermione had just come through the portrait hole carrying an armload of
books from the library. The O.W.L.s
were fast approaching, and the strain was beginning to show on all of them.
"Ron, can we practice those shield charms again? I think I'm still having a bit of trouble
with them," she asked wearily, dropping her load on the table.
"If you like," Ron offered, "but Harry's much better at
them. Maybe he should help you."
Hermione looked at Harry hopefully.
"Of course I'll help," Harry returned with a smile, "as
long as you tell me who won the Goblin-Giant Standoff of 1481."
"The goblins of course," Hermione responded. "The giants may have brute strength, but the
goblins are much cleverer."
"If they're so clever, why did they lose twenty thousand
goblins in the final battle?" Ron muttered, working on his own History of Magic
essay.
Hermione seemed rather pleased that Ron had known this
fact. She continued with relish. "They had to stage that fake battle to draw
the giants there. The giants walked
right into the trap, managing to kill quite a few goblins on the way. But if the goblins hadn't done it, they
would've all been wiped out. You play
enough chess to know sacrifices are sometimes needed, Ron."
Harry stared stonily at his book, not seeing the
words. Hermione glanced at him, her
eyes growing wide as she realized what she said.
"Harry," she said casually, "you're not still thinking
about the Ministry's plan, are you?"
Harry didn't respond.
He kept staring at the same word until it was burned into his brain.
"There's nothing you can do," Hermione continued, growing
more anxious. "We don't know
enough. What're you supposed to do –
stand in the middle of London with a big sign of your chest welcoming Death
Eaters?"
"He's in the lake," Harry said quietly.
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, his mouth gaping. "I thought you said there wasn't anything
down there."
"Well, that has to be it.
He's got to be in it somehow, or near it," Harry continued.
"But don't you think Dumbledore'd know if he was that
close?" Hermione asked fearfully.
"Maybe he's not there yet," Ron said, a look of
concentration on his face. "But the
Ministry must have some reason to think he will be…"
Hermione and Harry watched Ron closely as he thought. "Percy…" he whispered, pulling out a clean
sheet of parchment and beginning to write.
"Why Percy?" Harry asked.
"Why not your dad?"
"Mr. Weasley's too close to Dumbledore," Hermione
guessed. "If Dumbledore doesn't want us
to know something, I'm sure Ron's father wouldn't tell us."
"He might," Harry thought, remembering that Mr. Weasley had
tried to warn him about Sirius Black's escape.
"Yeah," Ron agreed, not looking up from his parchment, "but
it'll probably be easier to get information out of Percy if he doesn't know why
we're asking." He wrote quickly,
sucking the end of his quill as he waited for Harry and Hermione to approve.
Dear Percy,
How are you? I hope
things are going well in the international wizarding community. We're practicing hard for our final
Quidditch match against Slytherin. We've
got to win that one, so Fred and George have been ruthless. I'm also spending a lot of time revising for
the O.W.L.s, but I'm not sure I can say the same about Fred and George and the
N.E.W.T.s.
Anyway, I've been hearing a lot of strange things about
the lake here at Hogwarts. Nothing
serious, but Fletcher's been acting weird about it. I was just curious if you had heard anything about it. If you have, let us know.
Hermione is dragging me back to my homework, so I'd better
go now. Harry and Hermione both say
'hello' and give their love to Mum.
Ron
"Do you think he'll suspect anything?" Hermione asked.
"Probably," Ron answered, "but if he knows something, he'll
be too excited to be in on a Ministry secret to notice."
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A week later, Ron received a reply back from Percy. Percy's owl, Hermes, swooped in importantly
during breakfast along with the morning post.
After haughtily taking a bit of bacon, the owl spread its wings to their
full extension and glided out of the Great Hall swiftly.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked.
Harry glanced nervously at the entrance to the Great Hall,
watching to make sure Ginny had made it out to her Care of Magical Creatures
class. Hermione, noticing this, rolled
her eyes.
"How long do you think you can keep this from Ginny? She heard Fletcher, too. She'll catch on eventually, you know."
Ron shook his head.
"It's for her own good. If she
hears that the Ministry's plan has something to do with the lake…" Ron nodded
firmly, "It's better this way. After
Cho's dream, we're not taking any chances."
Hermione looked as if she was about to comment on Cho's
dream, but she bit her lip and concentrated on her plate.
"So the letter?" Harry prompted. Ron, brought back to the task at hand, quickly unfolded the
parchment and read it silently, Harry and Hermione reading over his shoulder.
Ron,
What exactly has Fletcher said? I've heard whisperings that involve the lake, but I've been in
Belgrade on a diplomatic visit and don't have access to all the details
yet. What I have heard, though, is
confidential Ministry business, and I'm not at liberty to disclose
anything. I can tell you it's nothing
you want to be involved in, and I hope you're not wasting your time on such
nonsense. However, if you know anything
that could be of help to the Minister, write to me directly and I'll see the
information gets to the right people.
I hope you and your friends aren't seeking out
trouble. Stay well clear of anything
the Ministry is working on, lest you spoil their plans. You should, of course, be focusing your
efforts preparing for the O.W.L.s – you know how important they are for your
future. Perhaps if you do well, I'll be
able to put in a good word for you in my department once you finish
school. It's never too early to think
about your career.
Take care,
Percy
"So Percy doesn't know anything," Ron said, folding the
letter up again.
"How'd you get that?" Hermione asked curiously.
"He asked me for information. If he knew what was going on, he'd just tell me to keep my nose
out of Ministry business."
"Well, he did say that," said Hermione, "but I see
your point. It sounds like he's doing
well, though."
Ron snorted.
"They've been sending him all over the world on pointless visits. Keeping up appearances for Fudge."
Harry sat silently, looking over to the Ravenclaw
table. "I wonder if Cho's had any more
visions…" Harry glanced at Cho – she was laughing at something one of her
housemates had said. He couldn't bring
himself to go over and bring up anything that would take the smile off her
face.
Shaking his head, Harry turned back to Ron and Hermione and
said grimly, "Whatever it is, I reckon we'll be finding out before long
anyway."
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Harry woke up the morning of the final Quidditch match with
his stomach churning. He felt confident
of Gryffindor's chances against Slytherin, but the anticipation and excitement
always made it impossible for him to have a proper breakfast. The Seeker dragged himself into the boys'
bathroom, feeling his way to the sink with his hands, and his eyes still
screwed shut against the morning light.
Between Quidditch practice and Hermione's O.W.L. preparation timetables,
Harry hadn't had a good night's sleep in a fortnight. Last night was particularly bad – his scar's constant throbbing
had escalated and was now making it extremely difficult to concentrate.
The cool water splashing over his face helped wake him up a
bit, and Harry could almost imagine the pain in his scar away. He held a towel to his face, breathing in
its freshly washed scent before reluctantly dropping it to the floor and
putting on his glasses. He eyed himself
critically. His still damp face glistened
and his emerald eyes shone despite the dark circles beneath them. Harry's dark hair stuck out in all
directions, uncombed, and bounced back defiantly as he tried to smooth it down.
"Don't bother. I
kind of like it messy."
Harry jumped, spinning around wildly to hear who had spoken
– it definitely wasn't the mirror's usual nasal voice and he was certain it had
come from behind him.
"Myrtle!" he yelled in shock. Harry looked down quickly, relieved to see his dressing gown was
firmly fastened. "What're you
doing in my bathroom?"
"Oh, sure, I'm not allowed to come to your bathroom,
but it's all right for you to come and go as you please in my bathroom,"
the pale ghost whinged. "Not that
you've come to visit me lately. Forgot
all about poor Myrtle, but I still think about you."
"Er, sorry," Harry stammered, looking around the empty
bathroom for an escape. "So, er, why are, I mean, to what do I owe this honor?"
Moaning Myrtle blushed slightly – at least Harry thought
she did. It was rather hard to tell
since she remained the same pearly color.
It was obvious, though, that she was pleased at his response, as she
floated a bit higher.
"Why don't you come visit me anymore?" she asked in a
slightly more cheerful tone, ignoring Harry's question. "Is it because of that little red haired
girl? She's related to that other one
you're friends with, isn't she?"
"You mean, Ginny?
Yeah, she's Ron's sister," Harry confirmed, wondering where this was
going.
"Well, I don't know if I'd be hanging out with her if I
were you," Myrtle sniffed. "Not many
people know this, but remember when you and that Ron went through the sink with
that handsome professor? That girl went
down there first. Don't trust people
who spend their time crawling through pipes."
Harry eyed Myrtle oddly.
"Er, don't you…"
Harry was sure Myrtle blushed this time. "Well, live people anyway," she added.
Harry's gaze kept drifting over to the bathroom door, which
was on the other side of Myrtle.
Noticing this, Myrtle looked affronted. "What, are you expecting visitors in here? Or is just that you can't stand to talk to
poor, dead, annoying Myrtle."
"No, Myrtle, of course I don't mind talking to you," Harry
said quickly, trying to prevent Myrtle from bursting into sobs. "I, er, was just wondering if we were going
to be interrupted, you know, by the rest of the guys."
Myrtle smirked slyly.
"I wouldn't worry about that.
Ron was in here really early, and the other two left about ten minutes
before you came in."
"You didn't," Harry asked weakly, thinking this was
something he really shouldn't repeat to Ron.
"Just what do you make me out to be, Harry? A peeping Myrtle? I had my eyes closed of course."
Harry didn't entirely believe her, but he let the matter
drop. "So what brings you to this part
of the castle," he tried again.
"Well, as charming as you are," Myrtle winked at Harry,
making his cheeks turn scarlet, "this visit isn't purely social. I heard something that might interest
you." Myrtle floated to the window,
looking out nonchalantly at the grounds below.
"What did you hear?" Harry asked anxiously.
"I thought you might want to know," Myrtle said
happily, turning back to face Harry.
"Not that I was eavesdropping or anything. In fact, I had no intention of being in the lake at all. Some nasty first year flushed me down the
toilet." Myrtle shook her head in
disgust.
"The, the lake," Harry stuttered, trying hard not to appear
too interested.
"Yes, can you believe it?
Well, since I was down there anyway, I figured I'd go have myself a good
cry. I have my own secret place down
there – no one's been in it in years.
Was I ever shocked to find people in there – live ones!"
"What, in the lake?" asked Harry, all pretense of
disinterest dropped.
"In the caverns," Myrtle said, nodding. "You did know there are caverns in the lake,
didn't you? Well, they were the
creepiest people I've ever seen. The
scrawniest, filthiest people you'd ever meet.
They stank something terrible – at least I'm sure they would have if I
could still smell. They were talking
about you."
"About me?" Harry asked weakly.
"Uh huh, Harry Potter, they said. Someone promised you would be delivered to their master
soon. Were they ever happy," Myrtle
said, very satisfied at Harry's rapt attention.
"Did they say who their master was?"
"No," Myrtle answered, waving her hand carelessly, "someone
at Hogwarts I think. Or maybe that was
who promised them they could have you.
I can't really remember…"
"So Myrtle," Harry asked, his mind spinning, "where exactly
are these caverns?"
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A/N: I
saved my apologies for the end. Yes,
this is very late. Shocking, I
know. If you really want to know
what's been keeping me from finishing this fic, e-mail me. (It's not that interesting – I just figured
I wouldn't subject everyone to it)
Thank you so much for reviewing as it really means a lot to me. I hope you've enjoyed this. And please check out my favorites list –
they're really fantastic.
Sub-note: Yes, I am very
aware that Ch. 24 is posted twice.
However, my laptop is possessed and will not let me upload anything to
ff.net, so I have to rely on the kindness of others. So, I have no idea if this chapter will show up as 25 (as it
should) or 26 – someone else is uploading it so I apologize if it's wrong. But it's here and that's what counts, right?
