AN: Well, thanks for the flame. It gets better.
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Chapter 14. Octavius
With Ivy and Hermione still under the Invisibility Cloak, they entered Lucius Malfoy's outer office without incident. Hermione carefully closed the door behind them, and Harry lit his wand just enough so they could see where they were—a small room with a reception desk and chair, two other chairs for people to sit on while they waited, another door at the back, and the aforementioned painting with a light-coloured robe draped crookedly over the frame. Behind the robe they could hear the snores of the man in the armchair, reminding them that they were not alone. Now Harry, too, felt the way he had after taking a draught of Panic Potion. The darkness and the need for silence made it even worse.
"I'm going to look at the appointment book," whispered Hermione. "Maybe we can learn something from it." She lit her own wand, sat down behind the desk, and pulled a heavy ledger toward her.
"Open it slowly," cautioned Ivy. "Any of these things could be booby-trapped."
Hermione nodded and lifted the cover inch by inch. The book didn't scream like the ones in the Restricted section of the Hogwarts library, but Hermione still turned the pages gingerly, with one eye on the robe-shrouded painting. "Lucius Malfoy has no office hours here on Thursdays," she reported with some relief, "so he's probably not anywhere about."
"I wish that made me feel better," muttered Ron, glancing behind him.
Hermione continued to turn pages with increasing interest. "This book goes back a couple of years," she noted, holding her wand closer for a better look. "'B. Crouch,'" she read. "Mr. Crouch must have come to see Mr. Malfoy here two years ago." Hermione sat back thoughtfully, letting her wand touch the page, then straightened with a start. "Did you hear that?"
"I heard a voice," said Neville tremulously.
"It came from the book," Hermione declared. The rest of them came nearer. Very lightly, she drew her wand down the column of names recorded on the page. Each inscription glowed briefly as the wand reached it, most lighting up only dimly, but a few of them flaring brilliantly when touched. At the same time, a host of whispering voices came to their ears. Hermione lifted her wand and said tensely, "I think this book was supposed to be locked away, not left lying on the desk. The secretary must have been careless."
"Crouch's name was the brightest," Ron observed. "Let's see it again."
Hermione touched the name with her wand again, and it glittered in the darkness of the room as if written in letters of fire. The elder Bartemius Crouch's voice, low and intense, spoke from the page: "Believe me, Lucius, I will not forgive this easily. My hands are tied now, but when they are free you will be held accountable. You had best be prepared."
The five of them looked at each other, wide-eyed.
"I'll bet it's something about framing Crouch's son," said Harry.
Ron touched one of the other names with his wand, but nothing happened. "Maybe it only works when your wand is lit," Ivy suggested.
"I wish we could take this book back with us," said Hermione.
"Talk about raising suspicions," said Ron, shaking his head.
"We could learn so much," said Hermione regretfully.
"Let's try to learn one more thing before we move on," said Harry. He came around the desk and turned to the current page in the ledger. "Has Dr. Leech been to see him lately? … Ah. Just last week." Harry touched Leech's name with the glowing tip of his wand, and it shone clearly. Leech's voice said, "I will thank you to remember, Lucius, that your expertise in this case is not medical. I don't share your view as to the best way to proceed with the Longbottoms, and I must ask you to consult me before taking any further action concerning them."
"Unbelievable," said Ron. "Are all these names that incriminating?"
Ivy tapped the book reflectively. "Perhaps Lucius Malfoy doesn't know what this book can do. He may not bother with it at all; he probably leaves it all to his secretary. And the secretary may have left it out on purpose after all."
"Who is his secretary, I wonder?" said Harry.
"Not Dobby, that's for sure," said Hermione. "Ivy, do you have any idea?"
Ivy shook her head. "No, Draco's never mentioned a secretary."
"Probably nobody we know, anyway," Ron dismissed the question. "What about getting into the inner office?"
Hermione got up from the desk. "Alohomora!" she said, brandishing her wand at the door. Nothing appeared to happen, but she tried the knob anyway, without success. "There's a keyhole," she said, "but Mr. Malfoy probably has the only key."
"Maybe there's a password," said Ron.
"This is where Salazara comes in useful," Ivy said. She unfastened her robes and began to unwind the snake from around her waist. "Yes, it's all right, Zara, you can come out now. You've behaved very well, and now we need your help." The Runespoor slid over Ivy's arms and shoulders, hissing softly. "We need to open this door, dear. Can you help us find out how?" Harry heard Ivy ask her in Parseltongue. Salazara glided to the floor and paused with her three heads up, facing the door.
"/You must reach deep in to find what you seek/," the serpent's middle head whispered. The left head added, "/In this room there is an object which will serve as a key./" Harry translated for Neville, Ron, and Hermione.
Ron started opening the desk drawers and rummaging through them. He produced crumpled parchment, old quills, ink bottles, candle ends, dead mice (to feed post owls with), and stale sandwich halves, and dumped them on the desktop.
"Stop, Ron," said Ivy. "Salazara may tell us more if we ask her." She addressed the snake again. "Is this object among the contents of the desk?"
"/No,/" replied the left head, and Harry translated both question and answer.
"Oh," said Ron, and swept the clutter back into the top left-hand drawer, accidentally creating a couple of mouse sandwiches in the process. "Can't she just tell us what it is?"
"That's not Salazara's way," said Ivy loftily.
"I suppose we have to play ruddy Twenty Questions with her," griped Ron.
"That's what she likes best, don't you, darling?" said Ivy.
"All right," said Hermione. "Is the object in plain sight?" Salazara shook her left head no. "Under the carpet?" Another head shake. "Does it look like a key?" No again. "Is it a magical object?" This time the Runespoor nodded her left head yes.
"Was the object already in this room before we came in?" asked Neville. This time Salazara shook her middle head no.
Harry almost whistled, but stopped himself just in time. "Jolly good show, Neville," he applauded. He asked Salazara in Parseltongue, "Am I carrying the object?" and her middle head answered, "/Yes./"
"Is it Harry's wand?" asked Ivy, and all three heads answered in unison, "That is correct."
Harry took out his wand and looked at it, translating Ivy's and Salazara's words into English. "Would that be because of the scar?" Harry wondered, but Salazara wasn't giving any more hints. Harry inserted the tip of his wand in the keyhole, and immediately felt a vibration travel up his arm and throb in the scar on his forehead. Twisting the wand, he felt the click as the lock gave, then turned the knob and pushed the door open on thick darkness. He withdrew his wand, lit it, and took a few steps into the room, the others following stealthily behind. Hermione brushed by him and used her wand to light a three-branched candlestick sitting on a table.
Harry had been half-expecting something vaguely like the inside of Borgin and Burkes, the shop on Knockturn Alley he had once visited somewhat by accident. That had been full of creepy artifacts like instruments of torture, severed hands, and other isolated body parts, and Harry had seen Lucius Malfoy pay a call there to sell some of his own magical contraband. Later Harry and Ron, disguised by means of Polyjuice Potion, had heard Draco mention the secret chamber under the Malfoy drawing room where his father kept the rest of his collection safe from raids by the Ministry of Magic. Although he knew that Lucius Malfoy took pains to keep up a respectable front, Harry would not have been surprised to see a pickled heart in a jar on the desk, or perhaps a hunting trophy on the wall—something intimidating like the head of a Re'em or Nundu, two of the most dangerous magical beasts known to wizards.
But, although they could point to nothing particularly ominous in it, Lucius's private office was far more luxurious than his reception room, with an exceptionally fine Persian carpet on the floor, heavy drapes at the windows, and a desk, tables, and bookshelves of dark polished wood whose lustrous blue-violet hue could only belong to the rare and valuable skywood tree. "Don't touch the wood with your bare hands," Hermione warned, "or it will reflect your face for the next twenty-four hours." Witches and wizards liked to keep valuables and secret documents in boxes and cupboards made of skywood; but a whole suite of skywood office furniture represented extravagance almost beyond belief.
Harry noticed gratefully that the two paintings adorning the walls were still lifes (at least at the moment), free of inconveniently sentient beings. Looking more closely at them, he found that one depicted an innocent-looking bowl of fruit next to a human skull; another showed shelves of incomprehensible devices and books with strange characters on the spines. One of the shelves in the painting was empty, and it gave Harry an odd feeling. Maybe there was something sinister here after all.
Ron dropped to his knees and examined the carpet closely by wandlight. "I wouldn't be surprised if this were a flying carpet," he said. "I bet Dad could tell for sure, just by looking at it. It's illegal to own one, you know."
Neville suddenly froze in the middle of the room, looking horrified. "Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "I remember now—I was supposed tell Professor Dumbledore any plans we made about Mr. Malfoy. I should have given him a message this afternoon, but I forgot."
"You're right," said Harry. "Slipped my mind too."
"We have to go back," said Neville frantically.
"Neville, you can't get cold feet now we've come this far," scolded Hermione.
"But I promised," Neville pleaded.
"Neville, it's too late," Hermione insisted. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait until we've done what we came for. He shouldn't have counted on you to remember a thing like that, anyway."
"Hush," Ivy warned. "We don't want to be overheard. Neville, don't worry about it. You didn't deliberately keep anything from Professor Dumbledore. He has ways of finding out what he needs to know."
Neville pulled himself together. "You're right, Ivy," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll be all right now."
"Now that we're here," said Ron, "what are we looking for?"
"This was your idea," retorted Hermione. "What are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for bottles labeled 'Potion to keep the Longbottoms from getting better,' Ron shot back.
"Might as well shoot for the stars," Harry remarked, taking down books at random and looking inside them for secret compartments.
"I still think we should take the appointment book," Hermione persisted.
"Well, bring it in here and look at it some more, if you like," suggested Ivy.
"I think I will," said Hermione, and went to get it. Returning and sitting down at Mr. Malfoy's desk, she tried the drawers, touching only the brass handles, and found them all locked. "Somehow I don't think Lucius Malfoy would keep his most secret possessions in his desk drawers," she reasoned. "Too obvious."
"Maybe Salazara can help us again," said Ron hopefully. The Runespoor gave him a baleful six-eyed look from the hat tree where she had twined herself.
"She already has, Ron," Ivy reminded him. "She said, 'You must reach deep in to find what you seek.'"
"Oh, well, if you call that help," sniffed Ron.
"I do. Salazara never makes empty conversation."
Hermione had started listening to the names listed in the appointment book, most of which she didn't recognize, and most of which were not individually very informative: they merely said things like, "/Very well, Lucius/," "/I'll get right on it, Lucius,/" "/I'll do whatever's necessary,/" "/It's a pleasure doing business with you, sir,/" "/I assure you, there will be absolutely no trouble on that account,/" "/It's lucky you caught that before it went any further,/" and "/Thank you for smoothing that over, Lucius, and if there's anything I can do in the future …/" Actually, taken together they suggested a rather shady picture.
A tapping at one of the windows made Neville drop the book he was holding. Harry moved hesitantly toward the sound and opened the drapes just a crack. "It's Hedwig," he exclaimed, and opened the window for his snowy owl. "With a message from Sirius," he added as he removed the letter tied to her leg. Ron went to get a mouse for Hedwig from the reception desk, choosing the freshest one he could find. "Hope nobody's counting these things," he muttered. He offered it to her by the tail and she took it eagerly, swallowed it whole, and thanked him with a friendly hoot. Harry stroked her feathers and opened the letter.
/Dear Harry,
Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I don't remember all that much, but I do recall that they did things with mirrors. They made one rat with two heads and no tail and one with two tails and no head (neither of them lived very long), as well as some other peculiar combinations which were somewhat more viable. Hope this helps.
As ever,
Sirius/
"Mirrors again," said Hermione, looking up from the appointment book. "I wouldn't be surprised if Lucius hid something in a mirror." All of them looked around, but no mirror hung on any of the walls. Ivy examined a glass-fronted cabinet filled with ornamental potion bottles and goblets, but found no mirror in it.
"Wait," said Neville, "let's send Hedwig back with a message for Professor Dumbledore. I'll write it myself." He went to the reception desk and produced the following rather blotted note: /Dear Prof D, We are in LM's office because we thought we might find something and we are fine so far. It is very nice here. Sincerely, NL./
"You forgot to add /wish you were here,/" said Ron. Harry folded the note and tied it onto Hedwig's leg, then opened the window for her again and watched her disappear into the night.
"That looks a bit like a wardrobe," said Hermione, pointing to a tall cupboard between the two windows. "The doors might have mirrors on the inside." Naturally the doors were locked, but after Hermione failed to open them, Harry tried his wand in the keyhole (ouch) and it worked like a charm (which of course it was). The cupboard was in fact a wardrobe, with a cloak, a robe, and a suit hanging on the rail. Just to be thorough, Ron rifled through all the pockets, finding several gold Galleons and silver Sickles. "Hush money, if you ask me," he judged, weighing them in his hands. At a stern look from Hermione he replaced them all, but not without a sigh of regret.
The insides of both wardrobe doors were most satisfactorily mirrored, and best of all, each swung freely through an arc of well over half a circle, so that every part of the room could be reflected. "Remember not to touch the wood," admonished Ivy. "Look for anything in the mirror that's not in the actual room." Hermione lit more candles, and all of them took turns comparing reality and reflection, but everything seemed to correspond perfectly. "Let's go through the room again," said Ivy. "We may have missed something."
They had almost finished a second inventory when Harry said, "I've got it." He pointed into the mirror he was using for his search.
"Really, Harry?" said Hermione. "Let me see." She took his place and looked in the glass. After a good two minutes of matching real objects with their counterparts in the mirror, she said, "I give up. What did you see, Harry?"
"Look at the painting," he told her. "The real painting has an empty shelf. But in the reflection …"
"I see it," gasped Ron. "There's a wooden chest. It must be what we're looking for. How do we get it out?"
"It's a two-step process," Hermione instructed. "I read about it in Madcap Magic. First we have to get it out of the reflected painting into the reflected room. Once we've done that, the rest is routine. If I were to point my wand at the chest right now and say, '/Carpe Veritatem,/' nothing would happen."
"You need a different spell?" tried Neville.
"Yes, but more than that," Hermione continued. "My reflection has to get it out of the reflected painting." She pointed her wand at the empty shelf in the real painting, and the mirror-Hermione's wand pointed directly at the chest. "One of you watch my reflection while I do it, to see whether it works."
"Wait," said Ivy. "Look at the colour. It's made of skywood. We have to be careful."
"I know just the thing," said Ron. He reached into a pocket of the cloak hanging in the wardrobe and brought out a pair of leather gloves, which he presented to Hermione with a flourish. "Compliments of Lucius Malfoy."
"Perfect," said Hermione. "Why don't you put them on, Ron, and stand right in front of the painting, so your reflection can catch the chest when it pops out."
"Yes, like that," said Ivy, when Ron did so, "but hold your hands a little closer together. " She checked his reflection against the size of the chest. "That looks about right."
"Ready?" asked Hermione, and pointed her wand at the empty shelf again. Ron nodded. "Vide Veritatem!" she chanted.
"Put one hand underneath, Ron. Don't drop it," Ivy coached. "You've got it now."
"I can't feel a thing," Ron complained.
"Turn around slowly and look at yourself in the mirror," Ivy directed. When he did as she suggested, he was able to shift his hands to give his reflection a more secure grip on the chest. Still watching himself, he sidled over and mimed placing the chest on the desk. "Done," he said when the chest in the mirror was safely landed. He rubbed his gloved hands together.
"That was the strangest thing I ever saw," said Neville.
"Now to get it out of the mirror," said Hermione. "Get ready, Ron. /Carpe Veritatem!/" Ron caught the chest as it exited the mirror and this time actually placed it on the desk. "It's heavy," he observed. "Who wants to bet on what's in it?"
"I'd rather just find out what's in it," said Ivy, examining it closely, but taking care not to touch it. It was a brass-bound wooden box, about the size of a suitcase, that apparently opened with a key. The rest of them gathered round, anticipating the next moment of revelation.
"Look out!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. "Someone's in the other painting!"
Neville turned his head and got the shock of his life (which is saying a good deal, considering what he'd been through lately). In the Still Life with Fruit Bowl and Skull he saw a familiar-looking figure that hadn't been there five minutes ago. "S-snape?!?" he choked in disbelief.
"Indeed," said the black-haired man in the painting, with a hint of amusement. "And what might so many students be up to in a private office that doesn't belong to them?"
"Professor … Snape … ?" Hermione faltered in growing puzzlement.
But it wasn't Professor Snape.
"Father!" Ivy cried. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!"
"And I to see you, daughter," he told her with a smile that made his face look quite different from Professor Snape's.
"This is my father, Octavius Snape," Ivy introduced him to her fellow students, "Professor Snape's older brother. Father, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom, all fifth-years from Gryffindor."
"But … I thought you would be a real person, sir," Hermione blurted, too surprised to choose her words.
"And so I am, Miss Granger," he told her.
"Oh, Father's quite real," Ivy explained, "but he can go in and out of paintings whenever he chooses. It's an extremely rare ability; certain gifted Slytherins can develop it with long practice. I might see if I can do it myself some day."
"Cool," said Ron.
"My dear Ivy," Octavius addressed his daughter, "I hope you can tell me what you and your schoolmates are doing here, and Salazara too. When Professor Dumbledore received Mr. Potter's owl he sent me to find out the status of your mission. You are taking a great risk."
"We know," said Harry.
"You, of course, are no stranger to risk, Mr. Potter," said Octavius.
"Well, no, not exactly," said Harry.
"We're just breaking rules in obedience to a higher law, sir," Neville informed him almost cheekily. The oddity of finding a kinder, gentler Snape—in a painting, no less—seemed to have affected his brain.
"Oh, well in that case, you'd best carry on," said Octavius. "You are Frank and Aurelle Longbottom's son, are you not?"
"Yes, sir," said Neville. "We're here to help them."
"From what I understand, you already have," said Octavius.
"Well, Harry's done most of it," said Neville.
"With a lot of help from Neville," Harry put in.
"All of us are a team," added Ron.
"Right now, we're trying to get to the bottom of the problem," said Hermione.
"And you have reason to suspect Lucius Malfoy?" Octavius inquired.
"We certainly do," said Hermione hotly. "He just got back from holiday last week and Neville's Gran mentioned how strangely he's been acting. And you should hear his appointment book. It's an absolute disgrace. We're looking for evidence."
"I see," said Octavius. "May I ask what your part in all this has been, Ivy? Or would I rather not know?"
"Deception, stealing, spying and eavesdropping, Father," said Ivy. "Breaking and entering. Just the usual."
"Seriously, Ivy?"
"I'm afraid so," said Ivy in a small voice. "You've caught me in the act."
"Well, I like that!" said Ron indignantly. "This trip was my idea. Ivy always wants all the blame for herself," he grumbled to Octavius. "And she has the nerve to give Harry a hard time for playing the hero. But if she's going to play the villain, what else can he do?"
Octavius looked at his daughter with raised eyebrows. "'Play the villain'?"
"It—it's a long story, Father," Ivy stammered, but she met his gaze squarely.
"I'm sure it is, and I look forward to hearing it some day. I'm still not quite certain that I should have allowed you to bring Salazara to school," mused Octavius.
"I am, sir," said Neville loyally. "Salazara's been ever so helpful."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Octavius. "Perhaps it was for the best, after all. I felt a very strong intimation that it was the right thing to do."
"You won't regret it, Father," said Ivy.
"And now perhaps I should leave you to it," said Octavius. "But I won't be far away. Remember that you are in danger here, every one of you."
"We're trying to be careful, Mr. Snape," Neville assured him. "We're not touching any of the wood."
"Very commendable," said Octavius. "Like the motorbike rider who makes sure his helmet is on properly before he jumps the canyon. Good luck to you all."
"Good-bye, Father," said Ivy. He moved out of the frame of the painting and was gone.
"Seems like a good sort," said Ron, looking after him. "For a Slytherin."
"Yes, Father's pretty decent about not pressing too hard for details or backing people into corners," said Ivy.
They turned back to the chest, where Octavius Snape had interrupted them at a most interesting moment. Harry tried his wand in the keyhole with a fair degree of confidence, but this time there was no resulting vibration and no pain in his scar, and the chest refused to open. He shook his head. "It's not working."
"We shouldn't have let Ivy's father leave in such a hurry," said Neville. "We could use his advice right about now."
"Now what?" wondered Ron. "Maybe we have to find the key. Harry, see if you can open these desk drawers." Harry used his wand successfully this time, being careful not to touch the wood. "I'll look through them," said Ron, wiggling his gloved fingers, "and the rest of you can search the room for it. Or maybe it's in the mirror, too."
"Hoping to find more mice and sandwiches?" Harry asked.
"I am getting a little hungry," Ron admitted. "Wish I'd brought some Chocolate Frogs. Look, there is some chocolate in here! You don't suppose …" But Harry shook his head and Hermione drew her finger across her throat in a slashing motion.
Ivy said, "Ron, I don't think we'll find what you're looking for. Lucius Malfoy would keep a key that important with him at all times." She went over to Salazara, still wound around the hat tree, and the Runespoor's middle head told her, "The answer is still the same."
Ivy repeated in English, "The answer is still the same: You must reach deep in to find what you seek. In this room there is an object that will serve as a key. Is it Harry's wand? That is correct." Salazara nodded her left head in confirmation.
Harry tried his wand in the keyhole of the chest a second time. Again, nothing happened. Silence fell as all of them set their wits to work on the problem. Hermione, with her eyes resting thoughtfully on the chest, suddenly exclaimed, "The chest came out of the mirror. It could be a mirror-double."
Ron checked in the mirror of the wardrobe. "It still has no reflection."
"Either way," said Hermione, "its counterpart was probably hidden in the reflected painting by someone painted. It works the same way whether or not you switch the real object with its reflection to begin with."
Suddenly Harry knew what was coming. Ivy looked him in the eye and said, "Harry, are you ready to risk your wand again?"
"Of course," said Harry. "At least you're giving me a choice this time."
Ivy reddened slightly and bit her lip. "I did say I was sorry about stealing your wand and all the rest of it."
"I know, and it's okay, Ivy," said Harry. "I didn't mean to rub it in."
"What we're going to do now won't be nearly as dangerous," she assured him, "at least as far as I know." She took out her candy-striper robe, spread it over a small round table, and moved the table nearer the wardrobe. Harry laid his wand down, not without some misgivings. He could see the three breaks in the reflected wand where Draco Malfoy had snapped it. Ivy pointed her wand at it and said, "/Carpe Veritatem!/" As soon as the double came through the mirror it separated into its component pieces, and Ivy deftly caught them all. She laid them end to end next to Harry's real wand, then sent the real wand into the mirror with the word, "Fallax!"
Examining the result, Ivy said, "There. That should work. You can pick it up, Harry." As he did so he watched his reflection pick up the real wand. He ran his hand over the breaks in the mirror-double; he could see them and feel them, but the wand stayed in one piece.
"Be careful not to break the double while you're using it," advised Hermione. "Whatever happens to it will happen to your real wand while it's in the mirror."
"The old switcheroo," said Ron in admiration.
"I can never keep this mirror stuff straight," sighed Neville.
Harry approached the chest again, hoping that this attempt would succeed. He braced himself before placing his wand double in the keyhole, yet the fierce sting in his scar still took him by surprise. He rubbed his head and said, "I feel like we're playing 'Hot and Cold,' and now we're getting really hot." He twisted the wand and the chest sprang open. Ron, still wearing gloves, pulled back the lid, and all of them stared at the contents. Four smaller boxes fit snugly into the chest, three of them with labels; one of the names none of them recognized, but the other two labels read "Longbottom" and "Crouch." Ron lifted the Longbottom box out of the chest, his hands shaking with excitement. He removed the lid, disclosing a layer of silk fabric; under this, when he had unfolded it, several rows of potion bottles met their eyes.
"Gor blimey," said Ron. "What did I tell you."
"How about that," said Neville.
"I can't believe it," said Hermione.
"Hot stuff," said Harry.
"Extraordinary," said Ivy. She started lifting the bottles out, one by one, reading the labels as she lined them up on the desk. There were several of each. "'Remedy for A. L.' 'Sleeping draught for A. L.' 'Antidote for A. L.' 'Remedy for F. L.'
"So he has been dosing them on the sly," said Ron.
"But for how long?" asked Hermione.
"These labels look newer than the others," said Ivy, turning the "Antidote" and "Sleeping Draught" bottles.
"My Mum's been unconscious for about three months now," said Neville.
"Because Lucius put her to sleep, of course," said Ron.
"Do you have any idea why he might have chosen that particular time to do it, Neville?" asked Hermione.
"No, not really," said Neville. "Except—before it happened they were saying she was showing signs of getting better."
"My guess would be that she was starting to figure out what was going on," said Harry.
"Kiss of death for anyone involved with Lucius Malfoy," said Ron solemnly. "If he can't buy them off or blackmail them, the next best bet is the sleeping-potion gambit."
Ivy examined the bottles again. "It looks like the sleeping draught and the antidote go together. Why would he put her to sleep and then wake her up again?"
"That's not so hard to guess," Harry said. "He'd wake her up long enough to threaten her, then put her back to sleep. He'd behave so outrageously that if she did tell anyone else, they would assume she was raving."
"We all know what we have to do now," said Hermione. "We have to wake up Neville's Mum and talk to her."
"Could we really?" Neville looked terrified and eager at the same time.
"It's the obvious next step," said Ivy, "but let's not rush into it. Maybe we should see if we can tell whether the potion is poisonous first."
"I picked up a bottle of Clabbert pus in the examining room," said Hermione. "I thought it might come in handy." From her robes she took a small bottle, unstoppered it, and tilted a drop from it into the potion bottle Ivy held open for her. After putting the bottle away, she took out her wand, pointed it at the antidote and said, "Venomonstrate!" No blinking red light appeared. "While we're at it," she said, "let's try the others." When treated with Clabbert pus, the sleeping draught showed a yellow beacon, meaning it could be dangerous if used without due caution; the other two kinds of potion flashed red to indicate outright poison. "Remedies my foot," muttered Hermione.
"We might learn more if we opened the other boxes," said Ron. "Let's try 'Crouch' first." He lifted it out of the chest. It also contained potion bottles, but none of them were labeled, and some were empty. Hermione tested one of the full bottles and found it to be poisonous.
"It looks like he was getting the Malfoy treatment," she said, stoppering the potion bottle and replacing it in the box. "Probably after he confronted Malfoy about his son."
Ron took the unlabeled box out of the chest and put it down on the desk. "Wonder what's in here? Probably extra potion ingredients." He raised the lid.
The head of a small, gold-and-emerald snake darted from the box and struck Ron's gloved hand. Fortunately the gloves were made of a hide the snake's fangs couldn't penetrate. Ron tried to slam the lid back down, but it was too late; he managed to grasp the snake behind its head and hold it, while it twisted furiously and whipped its tail in the effort to escape. Ivy moved the potion bottles out of harm's way. "Harry—Ivy—help!" cried Ron, holding on for dear life.
"Don't let go, Ron," Harry urged. "Hold onto it. Let me talk to it. /Are you the guardian of this chest?/" he asked in Parseltongue.
"/But of course. Think you're clever, don't you,/" hissed the snake.
"/Yes,/" said Harry. "/We are extremely clever, O guardian of the chest./"
"/Thought you could outwit every secret device that stood in your way,/" rasped the snake.
"/Yes,/" said Harry. "/That is why we came. Our presence here is fated./"
"/How am I to know this?/" asked the snake. It was growing calmer.
Harry held up his wand-double. "/I have the Key./"
The snake looked closely at the wand, with its seams and tiny lightning-bolt scar. "/You have the Key,/" it conceded, but then insisted, "/You must prove that you are its rightful owner./"
"/I am its rightful owner,/" said Harry, pushing back his black bangs to reveal his own scar, which the snake also examined.
"/You are its rightful owner,/" admitted the snake, but with seeming reluctance. Although Ron, Hermione, and Neville didn't understand the words, they had little difficulty following the gist of the conversation.
Salazara came down from the hat tree, slithered across the floor, and glided up to the desktop. She stared down the other snake with all three of her heads. "/Harry Potter has the Key,/" "/Harry Potter is its rightful owner,/" "Harry Potter opens the secret chest by right,/" they all said in turn.
Ron still held the snake, but it no longer struggled. Now Ivy spoke to it. "/How do you live in that box without food or air?/"
And it answered, "/I am a painted snake; I only exist when I am seen or sensed./"
Ivy studied the snake for a long moment and then exclaimed, "/Why, you are painted!/ Look, everyone," she said, switching to English, "This is a painted snake—a snake from a painting. It says it's only real when someone sees or senses it."
"It feels quite real to me," said Ron.
"Right now it is," said Ivy. She continued questioning the snake, "/And does your venom cause delusions/?"
"/Yes,/" answered the snake. "/Those whom I bite are incapable of distinguishing reality from fantasy./"
"Ron, you were right," said Harry. "There were extra potion ingredients in that box. This snake's bite causes delusions." He addressed the snake. "/You have fulfilled your task of guarding the chest. It's time to get back in the box./"
"/But I'd rather be real for a while,/" objected the snake. "/It's so tiresome not to exist. You have no idea./"
Ivy removed her candy-striper robe from the small table where she had left it. She spread it over Ron's arm, the snake, and the boxes and bottles from the chest. A little hissing voice from underneath said plaintively, "/I promise to behave if you let me stay./"
Ivy said, "Ron, let go now."
Ron looked dubious, but he pinned the snake with his free hand on top of the robe, then opened his other hand and quickly removed it from behind the snake's head. Ivy stretched the robe flat between her hands. Ron looked at it suspiciously, then sarted to peek under it to see if the snake was still there.
"No, don't peek yet," said Ivy. "Reach under the robe with the box and trap the snake with it first." He turned the box upside down and clapped it down on the desktop, hoping he had caught the snake that wasn't there, and then looked under the robe.
"I don't see it," he reported, and Ivy removed the robe. Hermione handed Ron a sheet of paper. He slid it carefully under the box, and held the paper in place with his thumbs as he turned the box right side up. Finally he placed the lid over the paper, removed the paper, and closed the lid.
"Now look to see if the snake's in there," said Hermione.
Ron opened the box a crack and said "Yes, I see it. I can hear it, too. Nighty-night, snake. Sleep tight." He shut the lid again, then sat down weakly and wiped his forehead with his arm. "That was close. Let's not open the other box."
Hermione looked thoughtfully at the clutter on the desk. "We'd better not take any of these bottles with us. Let's just take some potion from a few of the antidote bottles." She went to the glass-fronted cabinet and opened it with a simple "Alohomora!" She then chose one of the less noticeable bottles from it and filled it half full of Aurelle's antidote. She took a small goblet too, and gave both to Neville for safekeeping. He put them away carefully, then patted his robes to make sure they would stay in place.
"Before we go, we have to put everything back the way it was," said Ivy. "We'd better not forget anything." So the potion bottles were all carefully returned to their boxes, which went back into the chest; Harry locked the chest and Ivy switched his wand back; Hermione sent the chest back into the mirror and the painting in one convenient step ("Fallax et perfallax"); Ron returned the gloves to the cloak in the wardrobe before Harry locked it up; Ivy moved the small round table back to its original location, refolded her candy-striper uniform before tucking it back into her Hogwarts robes, and collected Salazara; Harry locked Lucius' desk; Neville put out the candles; Hermione returned the appointment book to the reception desk; they all left Lucius' inner office and Harry relocked the door.
"Dunno how much good all this covering our tracks will do," said Ron. "Next time Lucius opens the chest, that snake will spill everything."
"Can't be helped," shrugged Harry. Then he asked, "Is Lucius Malfoy a Parselmouth?"
"Probably not," said Ivy. "It's a very unusual trait, you know."
"I just happen to know two of them," said Ron, rolling his eyes.
Hermione shushed them warningly, then slowly and stealthily removed her candy-striper robe from the picture frame on the painting in the outer office. The man in the armchair opened one eye. "Good luck to you all," he told them pleasantly. "High time all these shenanigans were stopped." The five Hogwarts students stared at him in astonished silence. He was round and portly, with a bushy moustache.
"I thought you were here to guard the office," Hermione finally said.
"Indeed I am," he told them, "but I've been told to stop only people who shouldn't be here. Octavius explained a wee bit when he came through."
"Oh, he did, did he," said Ivy.
"And I've always been a fan of Harry Potter," the man went on, his eyes moving to Harry. "Such amazing feats of daring. It's an honor to meet you, sir."
"Er, thanks," said Harry in confusion.
"Well, I don't mean to keep you," he dismissed them. "Just want you to know I'm pulling for you." He winked at them and closed his eyes again.
Before they left the outer office, Hermione and Ivy turned into candy stripers again, and Harry and Neville resumed the Invisibility Cloak. Out in the corridor, Ivy stopped suddenly, looking at a smallish painting of a vase of flowers that hung on the wall. "Could you carry a painting that size under your cloak, Harry?" she asked.
"Sure," said Harry, "but what … oh, I get it." Ivy looked up and down the corridor and carefully lifted the painting down. Harry put his hand out for it and tugged it out of sight. "Somehow I never pictured us as art thieves."
"We're just borrowing it, Harry," said Ivy impatiently. "We're not even taking it out of hospital."
****************************
Chapter 14. Octavius
With Ivy and Hermione still under the Invisibility Cloak, they entered Lucius Malfoy's outer office without incident. Hermione carefully closed the door behind them, and Harry lit his wand just enough so they could see where they were—a small room with a reception desk and chair, two other chairs for people to sit on while they waited, another door at the back, and the aforementioned painting with a light-coloured robe draped crookedly over the frame. Behind the robe they could hear the snores of the man in the armchair, reminding them that they were not alone. Now Harry, too, felt the way he had after taking a draught of Panic Potion. The darkness and the need for silence made it even worse.
"I'm going to look at the appointment book," whispered Hermione. "Maybe we can learn something from it." She lit her own wand, sat down behind the desk, and pulled a heavy ledger toward her.
"Open it slowly," cautioned Ivy. "Any of these things could be booby-trapped."
Hermione nodded and lifted the cover inch by inch. The book didn't scream like the ones in the Restricted section of the Hogwarts library, but Hermione still turned the pages gingerly, with one eye on the robe-shrouded painting. "Lucius Malfoy has no office hours here on Thursdays," she reported with some relief, "so he's probably not anywhere about."
"I wish that made me feel better," muttered Ron, glancing behind him.
Hermione continued to turn pages with increasing interest. "This book goes back a couple of years," she noted, holding her wand closer for a better look. "'B. Crouch,'" she read. "Mr. Crouch must have come to see Mr. Malfoy here two years ago." Hermione sat back thoughtfully, letting her wand touch the page, then straightened with a start. "Did you hear that?"
"I heard a voice," said Neville tremulously.
"It came from the book," Hermione declared. The rest of them came nearer. Very lightly, she drew her wand down the column of names recorded on the page. Each inscription glowed briefly as the wand reached it, most lighting up only dimly, but a few of them flaring brilliantly when touched. At the same time, a host of whispering voices came to their ears. Hermione lifted her wand and said tensely, "I think this book was supposed to be locked away, not left lying on the desk. The secretary must have been careless."
"Crouch's name was the brightest," Ron observed. "Let's see it again."
Hermione touched the name with her wand again, and it glittered in the darkness of the room as if written in letters of fire. The elder Bartemius Crouch's voice, low and intense, spoke from the page: "Believe me, Lucius, I will not forgive this easily. My hands are tied now, but when they are free you will be held accountable. You had best be prepared."
The five of them looked at each other, wide-eyed.
"I'll bet it's something about framing Crouch's son," said Harry.
Ron touched one of the other names with his wand, but nothing happened. "Maybe it only works when your wand is lit," Ivy suggested.
"I wish we could take this book back with us," said Hermione.
"Talk about raising suspicions," said Ron, shaking his head.
"We could learn so much," said Hermione regretfully.
"Let's try to learn one more thing before we move on," said Harry. He came around the desk and turned to the current page in the ledger. "Has Dr. Leech been to see him lately? … Ah. Just last week." Harry touched Leech's name with the glowing tip of his wand, and it shone clearly. Leech's voice said, "I will thank you to remember, Lucius, that your expertise in this case is not medical. I don't share your view as to the best way to proceed with the Longbottoms, and I must ask you to consult me before taking any further action concerning them."
"Unbelievable," said Ron. "Are all these names that incriminating?"
Ivy tapped the book reflectively. "Perhaps Lucius Malfoy doesn't know what this book can do. He may not bother with it at all; he probably leaves it all to his secretary. And the secretary may have left it out on purpose after all."
"Who is his secretary, I wonder?" said Harry.
"Not Dobby, that's for sure," said Hermione. "Ivy, do you have any idea?"
Ivy shook her head. "No, Draco's never mentioned a secretary."
"Probably nobody we know, anyway," Ron dismissed the question. "What about getting into the inner office?"
Hermione got up from the desk. "Alohomora!" she said, brandishing her wand at the door. Nothing appeared to happen, but she tried the knob anyway, without success. "There's a keyhole," she said, "but Mr. Malfoy probably has the only key."
"Maybe there's a password," said Ron.
"This is where Salazara comes in useful," Ivy said. She unfastened her robes and began to unwind the snake from around her waist. "Yes, it's all right, Zara, you can come out now. You've behaved very well, and now we need your help." The Runespoor slid over Ivy's arms and shoulders, hissing softly. "We need to open this door, dear. Can you help us find out how?" Harry heard Ivy ask her in Parseltongue. Salazara glided to the floor and paused with her three heads up, facing the door.
"/You must reach deep in to find what you seek/," the serpent's middle head whispered. The left head added, "/In this room there is an object which will serve as a key./" Harry translated for Neville, Ron, and Hermione.
Ron started opening the desk drawers and rummaging through them. He produced crumpled parchment, old quills, ink bottles, candle ends, dead mice (to feed post owls with), and stale sandwich halves, and dumped them on the desktop.
"Stop, Ron," said Ivy. "Salazara may tell us more if we ask her." She addressed the snake again. "Is this object among the contents of the desk?"
"/No,/" replied the left head, and Harry translated both question and answer.
"Oh," said Ron, and swept the clutter back into the top left-hand drawer, accidentally creating a couple of mouse sandwiches in the process. "Can't she just tell us what it is?"
"That's not Salazara's way," said Ivy loftily.
"I suppose we have to play ruddy Twenty Questions with her," griped Ron.
"That's what she likes best, don't you, darling?" said Ivy.
"All right," said Hermione. "Is the object in plain sight?" Salazara shook her left head no. "Under the carpet?" Another head shake. "Does it look like a key?" No again. "Is it a magical object?" This time the Runespoor nodded her left head yes.
"Was the object already in this room before we came in?" asked Neville. This time Salazara shook her middle head no.
Harry almost whistled, but stopped himself just in time. "Jolly good show, Neville," he applauded. He asked Salazara in Parseltongue, "Am I carrying the object?" and her middle head answered, "/Yes./"
"Is it Harry's wand?" asked Ivy, and all three heads answered in unison, "That is correct."
Harry took out his wand and looked at it, translating Ivy's and Salazara's words into English. "Would that be because of the scar?" Harry wondered, but Salazara wasn't giving any more hints. Harry inserted the tip of his wand in the keyhole, and immediately felt a vibration travel up his arm and throb in the scar on his forehead. Twisting the wand, he felt the click as the lock gave, then turned the knob and pushed the door open on thick darkness. He withdrew his wand, lit it, and took a few steps into the room, the others following stealthily behind. Hermione brushed by him and used her wand to light a three-branched candlestick sitting on a table.
Harry had been half-expecting something vaguely like the inside of Borgin and Burkes, the shop on Knockturn Alley he had once visited somewhat by accident. That had been full of creepy artifacts like instruments of torture, severed hands, and other isolated body parts, and Harry had seen Lucius Malfoy pay a call there to sell some of his own magical contraband. Later Harry and Ron, disguised by means of Polyjuice Potion, had heard Draco mention the secret chamber under the Malfoy drawing room where his father kept the rest of his collection safe from raids by the Ministry of Magic. Although he knew that Lucius Malfoy took pains to keep up a respectable front, Harry would not have been surprised to see a pickled heart in a jar on the desk, or perhaps a hunting trophy on the wall—something intimidating like the head of a Re'em or Nundu, two of the most dangerous magical beasts known to wizards.
But, although they could point to nothing particularly ominous in it, Lucius's private office was far more luxurious than his reception room, with an exceptionally fine Persian carpet on the floor, heavy drapes at the windows, and a desk, tables, and bookshelves of dark polished wood whose lustrous blue-violet hue could only belong to the rare and valuable skywood tree. "Don't touch the wood with your bare hands," Hermione warned, "or it will reflect your face for the next twenty-four hours." Witches and wizards liked to keep valuables and secret documents in boxes and cupboards made of skywood; but a whole suite of skywood office furniture represented extravagance almost beyond belief.
Harry noticed gratefully that the two paintings adorning the walls were still lifes (at least at the moment), free of inconveniently sentient beings. Looking more closely at them, he found that one depicted an innocent-looking bowl of fruit next to a human skull; another showed shelves of incomprehensible devices and books with strange characters on the spines. One of the shelves in the painting was empty, and it gave Harry an odd feeling. Maybe there was something sinister here after all.
Ron dropped to his knees and examined the carpet closely by wandlight. "I wouldn't be surprised if this were a flying carpet," he said. "I bet Dad could tell for sure, just by looking at it. It's illegal to own one, you know."
Neville suddenly froze in the middle of the room, looking horrified. "Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "I remember now—I was supposed tell Professor Dumbledore any plans we made about Mr. Malfoy. I should have given him a message this afternoon, but I forgot."
"You're right," said Harry. "Slipped my mind too."
"We have to go back," said Neville frantically.
"Neville, you can't get cold feet now we've come this far," scolded Hermione.
"But I promised," Neville pleaded.
"Neville, it's too late," Hermione insisted. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait until we've done what we came for. He shouldn't have counted on you to remember a thing like that, anyway."
"Hush," Ivy warned. "We don't want to be overheard. Neville, don't worry about it. You didn't deliberately keep anything from Professor Dumbledore. He has ways of finding out what he needs to know."
Neville pulled himself together. "You're right, Ivy," he said. "I'm sorry. I'll be all right now."
"Now that we're here," said Ron, "what are we looking for?"
"This was your idea," retorted Hermione. "What are you looking for?"
"I'm looking for bottles labeled 'Potion to keep the Longbottoms from getting better,' Ron shot back.
"Might as well shoot for the stars," Harry remarked, taking down books at random and looking inside them for secret compartments.
"I still think we should take the appointment book," Hermione persisted.
"Well, bring it in here and look at it some more, if you like," suggested Ivy.
"I think I will," said Hermione, and went to get it. Returning and sitting down at Mr. Malfoy's desk, she tried the drawers, touching only the brass handles, and found them all locked. "Somehow I don't think Lucius Malfoy would keep his most secret possessions in his desk drawers," she reasoned. "Too obvious."
"Maybe Salazara can help us again," said Ron hopefully. The Runespoor gave him a baleful six-eyed look from the hat tree where she had twined herself.
"She already has, Ron," Ivy reminded him. "She said, 'You must reach deep in to find what you seek.'"
"Oh, well, if you call that help," sniffed Ron.
"I do. Salazara never makes empty conversation."
Hermione had started listening to the names listed in the appointment book, most of which she didn't recognize, and most of which were not individually very informative: they merely said things like, "/Very well, Lucius/," "/I'll get right on it, Lucius,/" "/I'll do whatever's necessary,/" "/It's a pleasure doing business with you, sir,/" "/I assure you, there will be absolutely no trouble on that account,/" "/It's lucky you caught that before it went any further,/" and "/Thank you for smoothing that over, Lucius, and if there's anything I can do in the future …/" Actually, taken together they suggested a rather shady picture.
A tapping at one of the windows made Neville drop the book he was holding. Harry moved hesitantly toward the sound and opened the drapes just a crack. "It's Hedwig," he exclaimed, and opened the window for his snowy owl. "With a message from Sirius," he added as he removed the letter tied to her leg. Ron went to get a mouse for Hedwig from the reception desk, choosing the freshest one he could find. "Hope nobody's counting these things," he muttered. He offered it to her by the tail and she took it eagerly, swallowed it whole, and thanked him with a friendly hoot. Harry stroked her feathers and opened the letter.
/Dear Harry,
Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I don't remember all that much, but I do recall that they did things with mirrors. They made one rat with two heads and no tail and one with two tails and no head (neither of them lived very long), as well as some other peculiar combinations which were somewhat more viable. Hope this helps.
As ever,
Sirius/
"Mirrors again," said Hermione, looking up from the appointment book. "I wouldn't be surprised if Lucius hid something in a mirror." All of them looked around, but no mirror hung on any of the walls. Ivy examined a glass-fronted cabinet filled with ornamental potion bottles and goblets, but found no mirror in it.
"Wait," said Neville, "let's send Hedwig back with a message for Professor Dumbledore. I'll write it myself." He went to the reception desk and produced the following rather blotted note: /Dear Prof D, We are in LM's office because we thought we might find something and we are fine so far. It is very nice here. Sincerely, NL./
"You forgot to add /wish you were here,/" said Ron. Harry folded the note and tied it onto Hedwig's leg, then opened the window for her again and watched her disappear into the night.
"That looks a bit like a wardrobe," said Hermione, pointing to a tall cupboard between the two windows. "The doors might have mirrors on the inside." Naturally the doors were locked, but after Hermione failed to open them, Harry tried his wand in the keyhole (ouch) and it worked like a charm (which of course it was). The cupboard was in fact a wardrobe, with a cloak, a robe, and a suit hanging on the rail. Just to be thorough, Ron rifled through all the pockets, finding several gold Galleons and silver Sickles. "Hush money, if you ask me," he judged, weighing them in his hands. At a stern look from Hermione he replaced them all, but not without a sigh of regret.
The insides of both wardrobe doors were most satisfactorily mirrored, and best of all, each swung freely through an arc of well over half a circle, so that every part of the room could be reflected. "Remember not to touch the wood," admonished Ivy. "Look for anything in the mirror that's not in the actual room." Hermione lit more candles, and all of them took turns comparing reality and reflection, but everything seemed to correspond perfectly. "Let's go through the room again," said Ivy. "We may have missed something."
They had almost finished a second inventory when Harry said, "I've got it." He pointed into the mirror he was using for his search.
"Really, Harry?" said Hermione. "Let me see." She took his place and looked in the glass. After a good two minutes of matching real objects with their counterparts in the mirror, she said, "I give up. What did you see, Harry?"
"Look at the painting," he told her. "The real painting has an empty shelf. But in the reflection …"
"I see it," gasped Ron. "There's a wooden chest. It must be what we're looking for. How do we get it out?"
"It's a two-step process," Hermione instructed. "I read about it in Madcap Magic. First we have to get it out of the reflected painting into the reflected room. Once we've done that, the rest is routine. If I were to point my wand at the chest right now and say, '/Carpe Veritatem,/' nothing would happen."
"You need a different spell?" tried Neville.
"Yes, but more than that," Hermione continued. "My reflection has to get it out of the reflected painting." She pointed her wand at the empty shelf in the real painting, and the mirror-Hermione's wand pointed directly at the chest. "One of you watch my reflection while I do it, to see whether it works."
"Wait," said Ivy. "Look at the colour. It's made of skywood. We have to be careful."
"I know just the thing," said Ron. He reached into a pocket of the cloak hanging in the wardrobe and brought out a pair of leather gloves, which he presented to Hermione with a flourish. "Compliments of Lucius Malfoy."
"Perfect," said Hermione. "Why don't you put them on, Ron, and stand right in front of the painting, so your reflection can catch the chest when it pops out."
"Yes, like that," said Ivy, when Ron did so, "but hold your hands a little closer together. " She checked his reflection against the size of the chest. "That looks about right."
"Ready?" asked Hermione, and pointed her wand at the empty shelf again. Ron nodded. "Vide Veritatem!" she chanted.
"Put one hand underneath, Ron. Don't drop it," Ivy coached. "You've got it now."
"I can't feel a thing," Ron complained.
"Turn around slowly and look at yourself in the mirror," Ivy directed. When he did as she suggested, he was able to shift his hands to give his reflection a more secure grip on the chest. Still watching himself, he sidled over and mimed placing the chest on the desk. "Done," he said when the chest in the mirror was safely landed. He rubbed his gloved hands together.
"That was the strangest thing I ever saw," said Neville.
"Now to get it out of the mirror," said Hermione. "Get ready, Ron. /Carpe Veritatem!/" Ron caught the chest as it exited the mirror and this time actually placed it on the desk. "It's heavy," he observed. "Who wants to bet on what's in it?"
"I'd rather just find out what's in it," said Ivy, examining it closely, but taking care not to touch it. It was a brass-bound wooden box, about the size of a suitcase, that apparently opened with a key. The rest of them gathered round, anticipating the next moment of revelation.
"Look out!" Harry exclaimed suddenly. "Someone's in the other painting!"
Neville turned his head and got the shock of his life (which is saying a good deal, considering what he'd been through lately). In the Still Life with Fruit Bowl and Skull he saw a familiar-looking figure that hadn't been there five minutes ago. "S-snape?!?" he choked in disbelief.
"Indeed," said the black-haired man in the painting, with a hint of amusement. "And what might so many students be up to in a private office that doesn't belong to them?"
"Professor … Snape … ?" Hermione faltered in growing puzzlement.
But it wasn't Professor Snape.
"Father!" Ivy cried. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you!"
"And I to see you, daughter," he told her with a smile that made his face look quite different from Professor Snape's.
"This is my father, Octavius Snape," Ivy introduced him to her fellow students, "Professor Snape's older brother. Father, I'd like you to meet Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom, all fifth-years from Gryffindor."
"But … I thought you would be a real person, sir," Hermione blurted, too surprised to choose her words.
"And so I am, Miss Granger," he told her.
"Oh, Father's quite real," Ivy explained, "but he can go in and out of paintings whenever he chooses. It's an extremely rare ability; certain gifted Slytherins can develop it with long practice. I might see if I can do it myself some day."
"Cool," said Ron.
"My dear Ivy," Octavius addressed his daughter, "I hope you can tell me what you and your schoolmates are doing here, and Salazara too. When Professor Dumbledore received Mr. Potter's owl he sent me to find out the status of your mission. You are taking a great risk."
"We know," said Harry.
"You, of course, are no stranger to risk, Mr. Potter," said Octavius.
"Well, no, not exactly," said Harry.
"We're just breaking rules in obedience to a higher law, sir," Neville informed him almost cheekily. The oddity of finding a kinder, gentler Snape—in a painting, no less—seemed to have affected his brain.
"Oh, well in that case, you'd best carry on," said Octavius. "You are Frank and Aurelle Longbottom's son, are you not?"
"Yes, sir," said Neville. "We're here to help them."
"From what I understand, you already have," said Octavius.
"Well, Harry's done most of it," said Neville.
"With a lot of help from Neville," Harry put in.
"All of us are a team," added Ron.
"Right now, we're trying to get to the bottom of the problem," said Hermione.
"And you have reason to suspect Lucius Malfoy?" Octavius inquired.
"We certainly do," said Hermione hotly. "He just got back from holiday last week and Neville's Gran mentioned how strangely he's been acting. And you should hear his appointment book. It's an absolute disgrace. We're looking for evidence."
"I see," said Octavius. "May I ask what your part in all this has been, Ivy? Or would I rather not know?"
"Deception, stealing, spying and eavesdropping, Father," said Ivy. "Breaking and entering. Just the usual."
"Seriously, Ivy?"
"I'm afraid so," said Ivy in a small voice. "You've caught me in the act."
"Well, I like that!" said Ron indignantly. "This trip was my idea. Ivy always wants all the blame for herself," he grumbled to Octavius. "And she has the nerve to give Harry a hard time for playing the hero. But if she's going to play the villain, what else can he do?"
Octavius looked at his daughter with raised eyebrows. "'Play the villain'?"
"It—it's a long story, Father," Ivy stammered, but she met his gaze squarely.
"I'm sure it is, and I look forward to hearing it some day. I'm still not quite certain that I should have allowed you to bring Salazara to school," mused Octavius.
"I am, sir," said Neville loyally. "Salazara's been ever so helpful."
"I'm glad to hear it," said Octavius. "Perhaps it was for the best, after all. I felt a very strong intimation that it was the right thing to do."
"You won't regret it, Father," said Ivy.
"And now perhaps I should leave you to it," said Octavius. "But I won't be far away. Remember that you are in danger here, every one of you."
"We're trying to be careful, Mr. Snape," Neville assured him. "We're not touching any of the wood."
"Very commendable," said Octavius. "Like the motorbike rider who makes sure his helmet is on properly before he jumps the canyon. Good luck to you all."
"Good-bye, Father," said Ivy. He moved out of the frame of the painting and was gone.
"Seems like a good sort," said Ron, looking after him. "For a Slytherin."
"Yes, Father's pretty decent about not pressing too hard for details or backing people into corners," said Ivy.
They turned back to the chest, where Octavius Snape had interrupted them at a most interesting moment. Harry tried his wand in the keyhole with a fair degree of confidence, but this time there was no resulting vibration and no pain in his scar, and the chest refused to open. He shook his head. "It's not working."
"We shouldn't have let Ivy's father leave in such a hurry," said Neville. "We could use his advice right about now."
"Now what?" wondered Ron. "Maybe we have to find the key. Harry, see if you can open these desk drawers." Harry used his wand successfully this time, being careful not to touch the wood. "I'll look through them," said Ron, wiggling his gloved fingers, "and the rest of you can search the room for it. Or maybe it's in the mirror, too."
"Hoping to find more mice and sandwiches?" Harry asked.
"I am getting a little hungry," Ron admitted. "Wish I'd brought some Chocolate Frogs. Look, there is some chocolate in here! You don't suppose …" But Harry shook his head and Hermione drew her finger across her throat in a slashing motion.
Ivy said, "Ron, I don't think we'll find what you're looking for. Lucius Malfoy would keep a key that important with him at all times." She went over to Salazara, still wound around the hat tree, and the Runespoor's middle head told her, "The answer is still the same."
Ivy repeated in English, "The answer is still the same: You must reach deep in to find what you seek. In this room there is an object that will serve as a key. Is it Harry's wand? That is correct." Salazara nodded her left head in confirmation.
Harry tried his wand in the keyhole of the chest a second time. Again, nothing happened. Silence fell as all of them set their wits to work on the problem. Hermione, with her eyes resting thoughtfully on the chest, suddenly exclaimed, "The chest came out of the mirror. It could be a mirror-double."
Ron checked in the mirror of the wardrobe. "It still has no reflection."
"Either way," said Hermione, "its counterpart was probably hidden in the reflected painting by someone painted. It works the same way whether or not you switch the real object with its reflection to begin with."
Suddenly Harry knew what was coming. Ivy looked him in the eye and said, "Harry, are you ready to risk your wand again?"
"Of course," said Harry. "At least you're giving me a choice this time."
Ivy reddened slightly and bit her lip. "I did say I was sorry about stealing your wand and all the rest of it."
"I know, and it's okay, Ivy," said Harry. "I didn't mean to rub it in."
"What we're going to do now won't be nearly as dangerous," she assured him, "at least as far as I know." She took out her candy-striper robe, spread it over a small round table, and moved the table nearer the wardrobe. Harry laid his wand down, not without some misgivings. He could see the three breaks in the reflected wand where Draco Malfoy had snapped it. Ivy pointed her wand at it and said, "/Carpe Veritatem!/" As soon as the double came through the mirror it separated into its component pieces, and Ivy deftly caught them all. She laid them end to end next to Harry's real wand, then sent the real wand into the mirror with the word, "Fallax!"
Examining the result, Ivy said, "There. That should work. You can pick it up, Harry." As he did so he watched his reflection pick up the real wand. He ran his hand over the breaks in the mirror-double; he could see them and feel them, but the wand stayed in one piece.
"Be careful not to break the double while you're using it," advised Hermione. "Whatever happens to it will happen to your real wand while it's in the mirror."
"The old switcheroo," said Ron in admiration.
"I can never keep this mirror stuff straight," sighed Neville.
Harry approached the chest again, hoping that this attempt would succeed. He braced himself before placing his wand double in the keyhole, yet the fierce sting in his scar still took him by surprise. He rubbed his head and said, "I feel like we're playing 'Hot and Cold,' and now we're getting really hot." He twisted the wand and the chest sprang open. Ron, still wearing gloves, pulled back the lid, and all of them stared at the contents. Four smaller boxes fit snugly into the chest, three of them with labels; one of the names none of them recognized, but the other two labels read "Longbottom" and "Crouch." Ron lifted the Longbottom box out of the chest, his hands shaking with excitement. He removed the lid, disclosing a layer of silk fabric; under this, when he had unfolded it, several rows of potion bottles met their eyes.
"Gor blimey," said Ron. "What did I tell you."
"How about that," said Neville.
"I can't believe it," said Hermione.
"Hot stuff," said Harry.
"Extraordinary," said Ivy. She started lifting the bottles out, one by one, reading the labels as she lined them up on the desk. There were several of each. "'Remedy for A. L.' 'Sleeping draught for A. L.' 'Antidote for A. L.' 'Remedy for F. L.'
"So he has been dosing them on the sly," said Ron.
"But for how long?" asked Hermione.
"These labels look newer than the others," said Ivy, turning the "Antidote" and "Sleeping Draught" bottles.
"My Mum's been unconscious for about three months now," said Neville.
"Because Lucius put her to sleep, of course," said Ron.
"Do you have any idea why he might have chosen that particular time to do it, Neville?" asked Hermione.
"No, not really," said Neville. "Except—before it happened they were saying she was showing signs of getting better."
"My guess would be that she was starting to figure out what was going on," said Harry.
"Kiss of death for anyone involved with Lucius Malfoy," said Ron solemnly. "If he can't buy them off or blackmail them, the next best bet is the sleeping-potion gambit."
Ivy examined the bottles again. "It looks like the sleeping draught and the antidote go together. Why would he put her to sleep and then wake her up again?"
"That's not so hard to guess," Harry said. "He'd wake her up long enough to threaten her, then put her back to sleep. He'd behave so outrageously that if she did tell anyone else, they would assume she was raving."
"We all know what we have to do now," said Hermione. "We have to wake up Neville's Mum and talk to her."
"Could we really?" Neville looked terrified and eager at the same time.
"It's the obvious next step," said Ivy, "but let's not rush into it. Maybe we should see if we can tell whether the potion is poisonous first."
"I picked up a bottle of Clabbert pus in the examining room," said Hermione. "I thought it might come in handy." From her robes she took a small bottle, unstoppered it, and tilted a drop from it into the potion bottle Ivy held open for her. After putting the bottle away, she took out her wand, pointed it at the antidote and said, "Venomonstrate!" No blinking red light appeared. "While we're at it," she said, "let's try the others." When treated with Clabbert pus, the sleeping draught showed a yellow beacon, meaning it could be dangerous if used without due caution; the other two kinds of potion flashed red to indicate outright poison. "Remedies my foot," muttered Hermione.
"We might learn more if we opened the other boxes," said Ron. "Let's try 'Crouch' first." He lifted it out of the chest. It also contained potion bottles, but none of them were labeled, and some were empty. Hermione tested one of the full bottles and found it to be poisonous.
"It looks like he was getting the Malfoy treatment," she said, stoppering the potion bottle and replacing it in the box. "Probably after he confronted Malfoy about his son."
Ron took the unlabeled box out of the chest and put it down on the desk. "Wonder what's in here? Probably extra potion ingredients." He raised the lid.
The head of a small, gold-and-emerald snake darted from the box and struck Ron's gloved hand. Fortunately the gloves were made of a hide the snake's fangs couldn't penetrate. Ron tried to slam the lid back down, but it was too late; he managed to grasp the snake behind its head and hold it, while it twisted furiously and whipped its tail in the effort to escape. Ivy moved the potion bottles out of harm's way. "Harry—Ivy—help!" cried Ron, holding on for dear life.
"Don't let go, Ron," Harry urged. "Hold onto it. Let me talk to it. /Are you the guardian of this chest?/" he asked in Parseltongue.
"/But of course. Think you're clever, don't you,/" hissed the snake.
"/Yes,/" said Harry. "/We are extremely clever, O guardian of the chest./"
"/Thought you could outwit every secret device that stood in your way,/" rasped the snake.
"/Yes,/" said Harry. "/That is why we came. Our presence here is fated./"
"/How am I to know this?/" asked the snake. It was growing calmer.
Harry held up his wand-double. "/I have the Key./"
The snake looked closely at the wand, with its seams and tiny lightning-bolt scar. "/You have the Key,/" it conceded, but then insisted, "/You must prove that you are its rightful owner./"
"/I am its rightful owner,/" said Harry, pushing back his black bangs to reveal his own scar, which the snake also examined.
"/You are its rightful owner,/" admitted the snake, but with seeming reluctance. Although Ron, Hermione, and Neville didn't understand the words, they had little difficulty following the gist of the conversation.
Salazara came down from the hat tree, slithered across the floor, and glided up to the desktop. She stared down the other snake with all three of her heads. "/Harry Potter has the Key,/" "/Harry Potter is its rightful owner,/" "Harry Potter opens the secret chest by right,/" they all said in turn.
Ron still held the snake, but it no longer struggled. Now Ivy spoke to it. "/How do you live in that box without food or air?/"
And it answered, "/I am a painted snake; I only exist when I am seen or sensed./"
Ivy studied the snake for a long moment and then exclaimed, "/Why, you are painted!/ Look, everyone," she said, switching to English, "This is a painted snake—a snake from a painting. It says it's only real when someone sees or senses it."
"It feels quite real to me," said Ron.
"Right now it is," said Ivy. She continued questioning the snake, "/And does your venom cause delusions/?"
"/Yes,/" answered the snake. "/Those whom I bite are incapable of distinguishing reality from fantasy./"
"Ron, you were right," said Harry. "There were extra potion ingredients in that box. This snake's bite causes delusions." He addressed the snake. "/You have fulfilled your task of guarding the chest. It's time to get back in the box./"
"/But I'd rather be real for a while,/" objected the snake. "/It's so tiresome not to exist. You have no idea./"
Ivy removed her candy-striper robe from the small table where she had left it. She spread it over Ron's arm, the snake, and the boxes and bottles from the chest. A little hissing voice from underneath said plaintively, "/I promise to behave if you let me stay./"
Ivy said, "Ron, let go now."
Ron looked dubious, but he pinned the snake with his free hand on top of the robe, then opened his other hand and quickly removed it from behind the snake's head. Ivy stretched the robe flat between her hands. Ron looked at it suspiciously, then sarted to peek under it to see if the snake was still there.
"No, don't peek yet," said Ivy. "Reach under the robe with the box and trap the snake with it first." He turned the box upside down and clapped it down on the desktop, hoping he had caught the snake that wasn't there, and then looked under the robe.
"I don't see it," he reported, and Ivy removed the robe. Hermione handed Ron a sheet of paper. He slid it carefully under the box, and held the paper in place with his thumbs as he turned the box right side up. Finally he placed the lid over the paper, removed the paper, and closed the lid.
"Now look to see if the snake's in there," said Hermione.
Ron opened the box a crack and said "Yes, I see it. I can hear it, too. Nighty-night, snake. Sleep tight." He shut the lid again, then sat down weakly and wiped his forehead with his arm. "That was close. Let's not open the other box."
Hermione looked thoughtfully at the clutter on the desk. "We'd better not take any of these bottles with us. Let's just take some potion from a few of the antidote bottles." She went to the glass-fronted cabinet and opened it with a simple "Alohomora!" She then chose one of the less noticeable bottles from it and filled it half full of Aurelle's antidote. She took a small goblet too, and gave both to Neville for safekeeping. He put them away carefully, then patted his robes to make sure they would stay in place.
"Before we go, we have to put everything back the way it was," said Ivy. "We'd better not forget anything." So the potion bottles were all carefully returned to their boxes, which went back into the chest; Harry locked the chest and Ivy switched his wand back; Hermione sent the chest back into the mirror and the painting in one convenient step ("Fallax et perfallax"); Ron returned the gloves to the cloak in the wardrobe before Harry locked it up; Ivy moved the small round table back to its original location, refolded her candy-striper uniform before tucking it back into her Hogwarts robes, and collected Salazara; Harry locked Lucius' desk; Neville put out the candles; Hermione returned the appointment book to the reception desk; they all left Lucius' inner office and Harry relocked the door.
"Dunno how much good all this covering our tracks will do," said Ron. "Next time Lucius opens the chest, that snake will spill everything."
"Can't be helped," shrugged Harry. Then he asked, "Is Lucius Malfoy a Parselmouth?"
"Probably not," said Ivy. "It's a very unusual trait, you know."
"I just happen to know two of them," said Ron, rolling his eyes.
Hermione shushed them warningly, then slowly and stealthily removed her candy-striper robe from the picture frame on the painting in the outer office. The man in the armchair opened one eye. "Good luck to you all," he told them pleasantly. "High time all these shenanigans were stopped." The five Hogwarts students stared at him in astonished silence. He was round and portly, with a bushy moustache.
"I thought you were here to guard the office," Hermione finally said.
"Indeed I am," he told them, "but I've been told to stop only people who shouldn't be here. Octavius explained a wee bit when he came through."
"Oh, he did, did he," said Ivy.
"And I've always been a fan of Harry Potter," the man went on, his eyes moving to Harry. "Such amazing feats of daring. It's an honor to meet you, sir."
"Er, thanks," said Harry in confusion.
"Well, I don't mean to keep you," he dismissed them. "Just want you to know I'm pulling for you." He winked at them and closed his eyes again.
Before they left the outer office, Hermione and Ivy turned into candy stripers again, and Harry and Neville resumed the Invisibility Cloak. Out in the corridor, Ivy stopped suddenly, looking at a smallish painting of a vase of flowers that hung on the wall. "Could you carry a painting that size under your cloak, Harry?" she asked.
"Sure," said Harry, "but what … oh, I get it." Ivy looked up and down the corridor and carefully lifted the painting down. Harry put his hand out for it and tugged it out of sight. "Somehow I never pictured us as art thieves."
"We're just borrowing it, Harry," said Ivy impatiently. "We're not even taking it out of hospital."