Beth walked back to Hogwarts like a woman in a dream.
She kept her eyes on the road in front of her, except when a snap or rustle from the side of the road made her jump and gaze about wildly into the darkness, certain that a Death Eater, or a Ministry official, or the ghost of Rothbard had followed her this far with murder on his mind. She was numb with exhaustion. She could barely process everything that had happened in the past few hours, and truthfully, she didn't want to try.
Finally the broad iron gates stretched over her head. One of the winged hogs that flanked it glanced down at her and grunted an affirmation; she slipped inside, at last in the safety of the Hogwarts grounds once again.
She was barely halfway to the stone steps when a figure came racing out of the Entrance Hall. Her heart leapt in terror, then slowed -- it was Richard. He looked at once terrified and immensely grateful to see her. He approached her anxiously.
"Beth! Thank heavens --"
Beth was almost too tired to wonder at anything anymore, but she asked, "How did you know where I was?"
"Audra told me," he said, distracted and relieved. "Oh Beth -- we had no idea where you were --"
"Diggory's dead," she said dully, not meeting his eyes.
Richard reached her and impulsively took her arms. "Yes," he said, in an unreadable tone. "Where have you --"
"So is Rothbard."
"Oh --" Richard staggered. "We felt the rings go cold ... I thought ... I wondered ..." He drew a long breath. "Oh Beth," he said softly, tilting her chin up with one gentle finger, "what have you been through?"
The tears came. Tired, stunned, and afraid, she slumped against Richard's chest, unable to hold back the sobs. His arms moved awkwardly for a moment and finally embraced her. Neither of them spoke and they made no move to sit; like statues they stood straight, interwoven, silent.
Eventually the sobbing subsided and Beth was able to take a few deep breaths. She didn't want to move. She would be happy to stand there for the rest of her life.
Richard, though, moved away so that Beth was forced to raise her head from his chest. He regarded her carefully for a moment. Then he bent down and gently kissed her lips.
They parted a heartbeat later.
Beth sniffed back tears. "Why did you do that?"
"I ... It seemed ... right." Richard looked stricken for a moment. "Do you mind?"
"No, I --" She wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve. "I've actually been waiting a long time for that."
"Oh." Richard tenderly wiped the tears from one cheek. "In that case I'll do it again."
And he did.
The members were waiting for them in the Chamber of Secrets. Evan was not among them; Beth wondered if he'd ever be back at all.
"He will," said Audra quietly.
Beth looked down at the implacable white-haired girl. "I wouldn't be so sure," she said tiredly.
"I would." Richard's eyes lit up and he smiled at Audra. "Audra, you're brilliant. You're fantastic ..." He turned to Beth and took both of her hands. "When you and Evan went off with Rothbard, she came and told me she was worried ... we didn't get to you fast enough. Then Diggory and Potter came back. She took one look at them and knew where they'd been. She knew you'd be back soon. She'd been in a trance since they disappeared ..."
Without warning, he swooped down and kissed Audra in the middle of her forehead.
"Our little Audra," he said proudly, "is a bona-fide first-rate Seer."
Beth stared at the tiny gray-eyed witch. Of course -- Audra's introspection, her sense of quiet secret all made clear sense. Beth remembered something she'd said at the beginning of the year. For a true Seer, Divination really was a waste of time.
"Perhaps," said Audra quietly, gliding across the room to take a seat beside Melissa, "only second-rate."
"First," Richard insisted. He looked over at Beth again. "You need to tell us what you and Evan saw."
Beth looked into his fearless brown eyes.
"All right," she said.
She tried to tell the story without thinking about it too much. She didn't look at anyone and spoke directly to the floor, summing up the events of the evening in an impassive voice. No one was surprised when she told them that Cedric Diggory had died. No one spoke up while she was describing the horribly one-sided duel. She finished with the half-globe of golden light surrounding Potter and the Dark Lord, and the flight to the crypt and to Hogsmeade.
Mervin broke the spell of silence. "That's it?"
Beth looked up at him. "Yes, that's it, I was running away after that," she snapped.
Bruce interrupted. "Harry Potter made it back somehow. He had Cedric with him. Moody dragged him off to his office. As far as I know, Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall are up there now. Sprout's with the Diggorys so Flitwick's in charge ... the whole place is like a madhouse," he said, looking at Beth. "We met here when we realized we'd lost you two, and that we'd do the most good by staying out of the way."
Richard nodded, looking like the decision to avoid all activity had nearly killed him. "But now we know where you've been," he said, looking at Beth with vast relief. "And if Evan's in Hogsmeade, he's safer than he was." He glanced around the room. "Herne, I'd like you to wait down here in case he shows up. Bruce, please stay in the Vase Room, for the same reason. Mervin --" He hesitated, then glanced at the fourth-years. "Blaise. Please wait in the common room." Blaise looked pleased and surprised to be included. "Audra --?"
He glanced over at the white-haired girl.
She shrugged. "He's still in Hogsmeade."
"All right, then he hasn't gotten on a train or anything. He'll be back. I need to go check in with Dumbledore -- he'll want the prefects, I'm sure -- Melissa, do your best to keep the Slytherins under control until I get back, will you? You have my full permission to use a Sleeping Spell on anyone you want." Richard looked around at them thoughtfully. "I want to meet again tomorrow at two, here in the Chamber. In the meantime, go back to the dormitories and get some rest. It's been a long day."
They filed out of the Chamber of Secrets and crept up the stone staircase to the girls' lavatory, slipping into the hallway one by one. Those of them who hadn't been given assignments made their way down to the dungeons.
Beth almost expected the common room to be in an uproar, but it was, if anything, more quiet than usual. Here and there, pairs or small groups of people talked in low voices; laughter even sprang up once in a while. It was also quite empty. Most of the students had already gone to bed. Didn't they know? Beth thought, despairing. Or didn't they care?
She didn't notice that the atmosphere of the room was anything but calm. It was, in fact, thick with anticipation. The remaining students were waiting for news from the outside. Until then, there was nothing to be done.
Beth walked wearily back to her bedroom and fell into bed without changing her clothes. A sharp corner dug into her thigh ... almost mindlessly, she struggled out of her cloak, remembering the book in her pocket.
I have to remember to give Richard the Ledger, she thought, and two seconds later she was fast asleep.
No one had seen Evan come back in the night before, but he was there at breakfast, as cool and collected as he had ever been. The Great Hall, Beth saw, was filled -- even the Hufflepuffs had all made it, though they looked strained and worried. The students had come for the mail, the newspaper, the company, the interaction ... they had all come for news.
They were not disappointed. Even before food appeared at the tables, Dumbledore rose to his feet and talk and shuffling immediately ceased. Beth thought he looked quite tired.
"There are two matters," he said, "which I would like to briefly note. First, for the rest of the school year, all Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been cancelled."
There was a cheer from the Gryffindor table that was hastily muffled.
"Secondly," Dumbledore said, towering over the Great Hall like an ancient cliff, "Mr. Harry Potter is currently being treated in the hospital wing. He will be rejoining you all, I believe, this evening." His bearing exuded great calm and great seriousness. "It is my hope that he will not be badgered for details about what happened during the Third Task, and that he will not be pestered or bothered even by the most well-meaning of you. Thank you, in advance, for this kindness."
He sat back down. Instantly, the Great Hall was filled with the buzzing of gossip, speculation, wonder. The Slytherins were largely silent, content to sit and listen to the rumors fly, certain that exclusive accounts of the evening -- straight from the mouths of parents, perhaps -- would come out very soon.
Beth wasn't surprised when her family owl swooped down to drop a note beside her plate.
There was a great deal of pain behind her father's curt words. Beth closed her eyes, let out a long sigh, and put the letter away. "It won't be long," she said aloud.
Melissa looked over at her worriedly. "What's that?"
"Something my brother said."
Her friend looked down at the table, embarrassed, then glanced around for something else to talk about.
Evan beat her to the punch. "So Moody's gone," he said, smug satisfaction on every inch of his face. "Someone told me he was kissed by a Dementor. For a Dark Arts professor, you'd think his Patronus would be stronger."
Melissa glanced at him in distaste, but Beth found that she couldn't blame Evan for his obvious delight.
"Actually," came Richard's voice, "it wasn't Moody at all."
He sat down with them.
Evan's face fell. "Then ..."
"I'll tell you at two o'clock," Richard said firmly. "Dumbledore and I still have a few things to talk about." He glanced at Evan's face. "Eat your food. You're looking pale again."
Evan sat back in his chair, cloaked in deep disappointment, and pushed his plate away.
At two o'clock on the mark, Richard came into the Chamber of Secrets, bursting with information and desperate to share it. Potter had given Dumbledore an account of what went on in the graveyard before Beth and Evan had arrived, and after they left. In exchange, Richard had told him the truth of what happened to Jules Rothbard -- although, he assured Beth and Evan, he didn't reveal how he'd found out.
The story was incredible -- it had to do with Mr. Crouch's son and Professor Moody ... shadows of the Dark Lord's victims ... Bertha Jorkins ... phoenix feathers... an ancient concoction of Potter's blood and snake venom ...
At the mention of the potion, Beth remembered something. "Here," she said, and thrust her hand into her pocket. She pulled out the shrunken Ledger. "I reduced it to quarter-size so I could carry it back -- whatever spell the Dark Lord used to restore himself, he must have gotten it out of the Ledger, because it was open on the ground, beside our big stone cauldron." The mystery finally pieced together in her head. "Only a member could've gotten them ... he's the founding member, of course he could get into the Chamber of Secrets ... and the Vase Room ..."
Richard was gazing at the Ledger as if it were made of solid gold. Wordlessly, he took it from Beth and laid it on the podium. He pulled out his wand and resized the book, which let off spurts of dust as it grew, flipping through its own pages as if it were stretching from a long sleep. Richard reached out a shaking hand to open the cover.
"Don't touch it."
Audra had spoken. Richard pulled back his hand at the last moment. Audra stood from her spot and moved forward very slowly and deliberately. Without saying a word, she laid a hand on the cover of the Ledger and closed her eyes.
The S.S.A. exchanged astonished glances. No one dared to breath.
Suddenly Audra opened her eyes ... and her mouth. "I see."
Her voice was very soft and low, but it echoed perfectly in the deadly silence. Richard reached out and covered her hand with his own. "What do you see?" he asked, very quietly.
Her cool gray eyes met his. "I see who stole this Ledger."
Richard stared back at her. He seemed like he hardly dared to ask ... but after a very long pause, he whispered, "Who?"
Audra closed her eyes again.
"A man with a silver hand," she said. "A man who turned into a rat."
There was a moment of complete silence.
"Peter Pettigrew," said Richard.
He told them everything he had heard from Dumbledore. It was extraordinary -- a man named Peter Pettigrew -- Death Eater -- friend of the Potters, friend of Sirius Black -- rat Animagus -- pet of the Weasleys', under the name of Scabbers -- had run away and been renamed Rat, though Dumbledore didn't know that -- had vanished at the end of the previous year and been helping the Dark Lord return to power ever since. It all made perfect sense. Rat had been in the Vase Room, he would've known the location and the password. He could've gotten into the Chamber of Secrets with the Dark Lord's S.S.A. ring, which must have been stashed away with his wand when he became incorporeal. It explained how he got into the castle -- hadn't Rita Skeeter and Daedalus done the same thing? -- and how he had disappeared even under Dell's eyes. He hadn't Disapparated, Beth realized. He had turned into a rat and scurried away.
Neither of their headquarters was safe. Beth wondered if they would ever be again.
Class resumed the next day: those idle, irrelevant end-of year sessions designed only to keep the students occupied in the few days before holiday. Though the S.S.A members were now arguably the best-informed students at Hogwarts, there were still parts of the story that were missing. There were still questions that needed answered.
Melissa found one when she realized that the Headmaster of Durmstrang was no longer at the Head Table.
"Andrei," she said, leaning across the table to where the Durmstrangers sat, "where is Professor Karkaroff?"
"Karkaroff is gone," said Andrei curtly.
Beth and her friends exchanged baffled glances. "Gone?" said Melissa carefully. "But -- he wasn't the one who, you know --"
Katya, who had her head down, spoke very quietly. "Pozhirateli Smerti."
Some of her classmates shuddered.
The Slytherins exchanged glances. Then everyone turned to look at Bruce.
"Pozhirateli Smerti ..." he said slowly. "Death Eater."
The clamor of the owl post cut off the conversation. Here and there, letters fell among the students, but a whole flock made its way to the Slytherins and left the table littered with parchment. A slim brown envelope drifted onto Beth's toast. She picked it up just as she saw an identical one slide onto Melissa's plate. Bruce snatched his out of the air; another landed on top of Mervin's head.
Up and down the table, the Society members had all received the same sort of letter.
Beth picked hers up and looked it over, but the envelope was unmarked. Casting a curious glance at Richard, she slit open the envelope with her butter knife and read the enclosed letter.
Beth gaped down at her letter. She looked up quickly and saw the message sink into her fellow members, one by one. Bruce crumpled the letter angrily. Mervin was reading it in complete disbelief, turning the page over and over as if expecting something more to appear. Herne was very pale, but Richard, beside him, flushed a high red and thinned his mouth. Blaise and Morag exchanged glances before hiding their letters in their pockets. Gypsy, looking furious, set hers aflame and refused to tell the Durmstrangers what it said.
Richard stood up abruptly and all eyes turned to him. "Five o'clock," he said firmly. Then he stormed away.
They met in the Vase Room.
Richard stood in the front, beside the newly-restored Ledger, gripping the letter from Ebenezer Nott in one hand. "Well," he said, his voice as tight as his fist, "it appears that we are under new management."
Blaise let out a helpless, haunted giggle. Several people glared at her and she tried to silence herself.
Richard took a breath. "I don't know what to tell you," he said at last. "A force much more powerful than me is making decisions for us. We've been recruited for the Dark Lord's army. I want to say that -- I want to apologize to everyone here. I helped choose to induct you." He met Beth's eyes. "I wish you didn't have to face this." She blushed brilliantly but didn't break his gaze.
"Well, we do," Mervin said tersely, his voice brittle. "What now?"
Richard turned to him. "We have no choice but to go along with it. We'll be killed otherwise. But --" he raised his hand against the angry exclamations that rose up "-- but we're not going to make it easy for him."
The light of battle was in his eyes. Beth saw suddenly why he had waited to gather, instead of calling a meeting immediately. He had been planning.
"The July 17th meeting is mandatory, but Ebenezer Nott has to accept it if you can't make it -- you're all minors, except for me and Gypsy, and they won't recognize your worth. They'll think you're expendable. Anyone who was here for the Chamber of Secrets incident should try to find some prior appointment so that they can avoid coming. I think we're in for some Crucio."
There was a flicker of fear across his eyes that was quickly hidden.
"We aren't inducting anyone next year." There was another brief whisper that ran across the Vase Room. "I'm appointing Melissa to be the President next year. I know you can handle it," he said gently, and she nodded, biting her lip. "We also aren't giving him the Ledger. I'm keeping it. I'll pretend to lose it -- no matter what, just say that I had it the last time you saw it. We need that resource and I'm not going to let the Dark Lord get it back."
"He'd kill you to get it," Beth said quietly.
Richard gave her a grim smile. "He wouldn't. I'm his youngest successor."
An heir of the Dark Lord, Beth thought, and swallowed hard.
Richard looked around at them all in turn. "Our heritage," he said slowly, "does not have to be our future. Riddle's going to find that the Society today isn't the one he left. I'll find our friends -- Dave Gudgeon, Celestina Warbeck -- Bode and Croaker -- the ones we know, the ones we can trust -- and we'll come up with something. If we let him rule us now, we stand a chance of breaking his rule later."
He turned his gaze to the wall of the Vase Room, where the silver Special Award for Services to the School stood. "Going to be an interesting year. Our secrets will be more important than ever." He smiled wearily.
"Good luck to you all. Gloria --" The words caught in his throat. "I mean -- be safe."
