A/N: Well! Although Book 5 is here, and JKR cruelly disposed of Someone,
I'm still going to finish "Captive." It thrills me to no end to see that
JKR included the sort of mind-reading and possessing that I've been
wrapping this story around; she gave it a name and put Harry in the plight.
Hopefully I can keep all my plans straight from hers, so as not to confuse
the story.
I apologize profusely to Ginny Weasley, who has been sending nasty little spiders into my room as revenge for her torture in this story.
Chapter Six
"Another Disappearance"
Early mornings were always a boring, uneventful time to be the sentry of Gryffindor Tower, and the Fat Lady usually enjoyed a pleasant doze just before the very few early risers wakened her from her morning nap. In past years she was interrupted by flushing Gryffindors returning from a midnight tryst in an unused classroom, but this year it had been different.
The Fat Lady had become bored with her quiet watches, and she had been secretly pleased that Mr. Potter had trusted her enough to keep vigil while he avoided the Gryffindors on the other side of her frame. However, he had grumpily fallen asleep, and now she was left with nothing to do.
But she kept her vigil.
It was peeking into the very earliest of morning hours, usually when the lovebirds tiptoed down the corridor, when Potter stirred.
"No . . . Ginny," he murmured, a slight vibration in the wall alerting the Fat Lady to the boy's twitching and shifting. "You!"
The portrait tried to lean out of her frame, but it was impossible, as she very well knew. And she didn't dare travel to the next frame to fully see Potter. Flustered, the Fat Lady stilled her body and the rustling of her pink silk dress. For a moment it seemed as if the boy had quieted and returned to sleep, but then he let out an angry, incoherent cry and thumped hard against the wall.
"Now, really!" exclaimed the Fat Lady. "Mr. Potter, I think you should wake up now-"
"Don't! No . . . Ginny!"
"Mr. Potter!"
A sharp, hissing gasp escaped from the restless body below her, and the Fat Lady glanced hesitatingly towards the closest portrait of a castle hall. Did she dare . . .? Then Potter seemed to quiet and she allowed herself to relax. But then a sound erupted from down below, like an animal being tortured. Suddenly Potter rolled away from the wall, far enough for the Fat Lady to clearly see him.
He was rigid, a vein bulging along his pale neck, and his face was grotesquely contorted. Horrified, the Fat Lady stared as the seventh year's mouth opened wide in a soundless scream. His face was red. She was certain he wasn't breathing. He lay there, twitching and screaming silently, until the Fat Lady couldn't stand it any longer.
"Mr. Potter!" she shouted, her voice shrill. "Mr. Potter, WAKE UP!"
And still he convulsed on the floor, bending with unnatural rigidity, then snapping into a fetal position before snapping back in an arch. What if he wasn't dreaming, but was being cursed?
"HELP! Professor McGonagall-Dumbledore-GRYFFINDORS!"
A stampede of footsteps sounded behind the portrait hole just before the Fat Lady was thrown wide open, nearly smacking into the adjoining wall where Potter had been sleeping peacefully. She heard the bewildered and frightened exclamations as Gryffindors poured into the corridor. With a disgruntled huff, she swung herself halfway closed, seeing a blur of pajamas and dressing gowns.
"Harry!" shrieked the Head Girl, her bushy hair wild as she pushed bodily through a wall of burly fifth years. "Stand back-I'm-oh never mind! Harry! Back away!"
"Stand back, everyone!" the Fat Lady hollered, wanting to see what was happening to Potter. She had to shout three more times before everyone had obediently backed away to reveal Granger and Weasley kneeling beside the tightly curled body of Potter. His eyes were squeezed tight shut, but the Fat Lady didn't know if he was faking it or not. At least he was breathing now, but only in shallow, ragged breaths. The Granger girl was stroking his sweaty fringe off his forehead, revealing his vividly red scar.
"Ron," she whispered, and the boy nodded, visibly gulping.
"What is going on?"
A simultaneous gasp erupted from the Gryffindors as Professor McGonagall came briskly up the corridor, Headmaster Dumbledore on her heels. McGonagall's graying hair floated around her in wisps like a specter, her night bonnet dangling by the bow around her throat. Dumbledore's usual hat was replaced by a ridiculous purple nightcap with a gigantic bauble banging rhythmically against the back of his head.
"What's all this?" McGonagall demanded, gesturing at Potter and then the Fat Lady. Without missing a beat, she waved her finger authoritatively over the Gryffindors. "All of you-to bed! Anyone loitering will lose ten points for Gryffindor!"
The Fat Lady sighed as her frame was abusively swung open. When she finally closed, she found Granger and Weasley unmoved. Potter's eyes were open and he'd uncurled his thin body, but he seemed only capable of sitting up. The seventeen-year-old sat in the middle of the corridor, furiously rubbing his forehead and trembling. His once fevered skin was now ghostly pale.
"What happened, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore gently. "A nightmare? A vision?"
Potter nodded but didn't raise his head. Instead, he seemed to recoil and hunch more into himself. After a full minute, he took a deep, steadying breath.
"It was Voldemort, sir," he said hoarsely, "and . . . and Ginny."
Beside Potter, Weasley sucked in a deep breath and swayed, and Grange's body stiffened.
"S-she's alive," said Potter. He paused, as if fighting with himself. Finally he said, "Voldemort used Cruciatus."
Weasley let out a strangled sound and whirled around, digging one fist into his palm.
"Is there anything else you can tell me, Harry?"
Another pause as Potter rubbed his scar. "It's fading . . . I think they were in a house, a big house, but I don't know how big. Wormtail was there, and Nagini-Voldemort's pet, and Lucius Malfoy." Potter's thin body shuddered and he rocked back and forth once before whispering, "A dementor was there, I remember the cold . . . and its breathing."
"Can you remember anything that was said?"
Potter thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, I can't remember."
But even the Fat Lady could tell he was holding something back. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall exchanged looks that mirrored the glance between Granger and Weasley. Potter had already dropped his chin, one hand raking madly through his disheveled hair. The Fat Lady pursed her lips and stared at Dumbledore expectantly, hoping he would pursue the matter further.
To her astonishment, Dumbledore gracefully knelt down on one knee, and with a long finger, tilted Potter's face towards his. The Fat Lady shuddered at the gentle but piercing gaze, not for a moment envying the young man under scrutiny.
Potter took a shuddering breath, his shoulders rising and falling under his robes. "He . . . he used a dementor on her, sir." The boy was trembling again, but the Fat Lady could not decide if it was with rage or fear or both. "Voldemort's using a bloody dementor on her!"
McGonagall and Granger gasped, each bringing a hand to their gaping mouths; Weasley made a choking noise and somehow grew paler. Dumbledore, on the other hand, only looked grimmer and rose to his full height, leaving Potter to huddle at his feet. One long fingered hand gave Potter's shoulder a squeeze before disappearing inside Dumbledore's robes.
"I must contact the Order," he said quietly, not a hint of panic in his voice. The Fat Lady recalled how calm and even Dumbledore had been after she'd been attacked by Sirius Black. "Harry, Ron, Hermione-you will all return to your dormitories and return to classes as usual tomorrow." He held up a hand to quell any protest as three teenage heads swung towards him. "I will inform you when I find it best. You three have been tremendously brave and helpful in the past, but we cannot be reckless. More than Ginny's life is at stake."
Potter and Weasley gave startled, angry protests, but Dumbledore gave them a sharp look. "Miss Weasley's life is as precious as each of yours and is very valuable to Voldemort. Stay in the castle. Good night."
The Fat Lady stared after the retreating backs of Dumbledore and McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor glancing back at the frozen trio of friends before disappearing into the shadows.
A long silence was interrupted by Granger. "I'm surprised he didn't escort us into the common room. I mean-" but then she stopped. Potter and Weasley were motionless for another minute, and then Potter seemed to jerk sluggishly to life. Once he was on his feet, each of his friends put an arm around him, and the Fat Lady reluctantly closed the portrait hole as they obediently returned to the common room.
~*~*~
The Gryffindor common room was unusually crowded when Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned, but it was unnervingly quiet. Harry kept his eyes fastened to the scarlet, ornamental rug as he allowed his friends to steer him to their private corner. He felt Hermione's arm slip from around his waist and her voice resounded sharply, however hoarsely, through the common room.
"It's past curfew! Gryffindors to bed! The last one in here loses five points!"
"I guess that's us then," whispered Ron from Harry's right.
Peering from underneath his fringe, Harry saw the habitual scramble towards the two staircases, but it was oddly slow and half-hearted. When the common room had cleared, Hermione's forceful hands-on-her-hips-Head Girl stance slumped and she turned back to Harry and Ron, her face ashen and her eyes bright.
"Harry," she said softly, sinking into an armchair, clasping her hands in her lap.
"I can't remember anything else," he said, which was true. Except that he could still feel the agony of Cruciatus and see Voldemort's glowing red eyes. He shuddered and struggled to even his breathing, hoping to fight off the tears he felt at the corners of his eyes. Ginny!
"She's alive," mumbled Ron after a moment. "She's still alive."
"That's right," said Hermione, lifting her head. Harry recognized that tone. "And although Dumbledore said we had to go to classes and stay in the castle, we can still help her."
Ron let out a snort. "How? By going to the library?"
Hermione sniffed. "Yes." She turned to Harry, who was giving her an incredulous look. "Harry, what did you and Dumbledore talk about?"
Sighing wearily, Harry recalled his conversation with Dumbledore, wondering if it really had been only a few hours ago. He faltered when he explained that Ginny had wanted it kept secret-even from him. When he'd finished, Hermione was searching her pockets for a quill and spare parchment.
"We can go down to the library after breakfast just before class and get started," she was saying as she frowned at her quill tip. No ink. "Dumbledore said it was a protective charm, right?" Harry nodded. "It was a simple one, but you don't have any idea which one?" Harry shook his head no. "Well, we'll just have to do some research."
"How is that going to help?"
"At least we'll know, right? And we'll know how to get around it-"
"Maybe You-Know-Who has a library as well-"
"Ron! Just let me finish." Hermione pushed her bushy hair impatiently away from her face and straightened her shoulder, as if about to tackle a tricky Arithmancy problem. Harry marveled at his friend. How could she approach this as they'd always done before? Ginny wasn't the Philosopher's Stone or the Heir of Slytherin or a Triwizard task. She was more than some prize, legend, or challenge!
Harry glared at Hermione, but then immediately softened his look. He knew she didn't mean it a she'd taken it. Suddenly Harry found it comforting that someone had a little control.
"We're not just researching for the spell," said Hermione. "We're going to try and figure out Voldemort's plan. Why does he have Ginny? What attempts there have been towards immortality, the means used, which ones were the most successful-"
Ron reached over and covered her mouth with his hand. "Okay, okay, we get it! We'll go the moment we can." Hermione nodded and he dropped his hand, but not before giving one of her frizzy curls a tug. She smiled softly at him. Harry had to turn away.
Silence had fallen over them again when Ron said, "Strange, isn't it?"
"What's strange?" asked Hermione.
"Ginny-I mean, that she knew. Harry said she thought maybe You-Know- Voldemort-would want her for something . . ." Ron swallowed noticeably, then doggedly continued. "You know, sometimes I think she knows a lot more than she lets on-no, don't give me that look, Hermione! Just if she knew about this, maybe she didn't get over the Chamber of Secrets?"
Harry's mouth fell open in astonishment. Could Ron really have thought that? That Ginny was completely unscathed by Tom Riddle's possession? Sure, she'd put up a convincing front, but Harry had noticed incidences before he'd become her friend that had suggested otherwise.
Ron must have read his and Hermione's stares, because he said quickly, "I mean, I know she had nightmares for awhile and had a phobia of diaries and places underground, but I thought . . . she'd seemed alright now, you know?"
Hermione let out a long sigh and shook her head. "She is alright, Ron. But that doesn't necessarily mean there wasn't some sort of lasting effect." She glanced at Harry, who had buried his hands in his hair. "Like Harry's scar still hurts, and, until fourth year, Voldemort couldn't touch him."
"So you're saying that there might be some-some Tom Riddle left in Ginny?" exclaimed Ron, eyes wide.
Harry clenched his fists, capturing tufts of hair in his grasp. It had plagued his mind, but he had valiantly tried to dismiss it.
"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his powers to you the night he gave you that scar."
What had transferred to Ginny? Harry wondered. The protection his mother had placed on him had made it painful for Voldemort to touch him, but it had been dissolved by Harry's own blood. Could Dumbledore's protection dissipate with Ginny's blood? Why did Voldemort need Ginny? Did she have some power of his that he'd lost the night he used Avada Kedavra on Harry?
Although he didn't want to voice his thoughts, Harry interrupted Hermione's claim that Ron was "pathetically unobservant" and "very insensitive." These would be things they would need to look up when the library opened later in the morning. Hermione had to run up to her dormitory for her ink bottle to make her list.
~*~*~
Harry's eyes were heavy when the first Gryffindors began to trickle down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He and Ron quickly changed into fresh clothes, grabbed their bags and books, and then joined Hermione down in the common room before heading down to breakfast.
The Great Hall was cautiously quiet with hissing whispers and darting looks when they entered. Avoiding everyone's gaze, Harry sank reluctantly onto the bench, not in the least hungry. It was a Monday and he had double Charms, which was better than Thursday afternoon where he had double Potions, but the thought didn't cheer him.
"Maybe we'll have a review over Protection Charms," said Ron as he pushed his eggs around his plate.
Hermione shook her head. "We did those in fifth year, remember?"
Ron rolled his eyes but said nothing. Harry stared down at his toast, feeling nauseated at the very thought of food. His stomach was empty, but he didn't feel hungry. Was Ginny getting any food, or were they starving her? He gripped his fork tightly in his fist, feeling anger and despair rise within him. Desperate to have someone evil to glare fiercely at, he looked across the Great Hall at Draco Malfoy.
Except Malfoy wasn't there.
Harry raised his head and cast his eyes over the whole of the Slytherin table, and then the Great Hall. Draco Malfoy's pale, rat-like face was nowhere to be seen, and nearly everyone was now eating breakfast. He gazed back at the Slytherin's usual spot, but only Crabbe and Goyle were there, flanking Malfoy's vacant seat and looking very confused and lost.
"Ron," Harry hissed. "Look."
Ron followed his gaze and swore softly. "The git probably knows better than to show his ugly face around here."
Hermione had taken three bites of toast, but looked sick as well, and dropped her toast. "Come on," she said, tugging on their robes. "Getting angry isn't going to help Ginny. Let's get to the library."
Exchanging dark looks, Harry and Ron gathered their bags and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall.
~*~*~
Concentrating in classes was impossible. Professor Flitwick did not comment when Harry and Ron failed to perform their Appearance Charms, but awarded ten points to Gryffindor when Hermione convinced the entire class that she was Madam Pince scolding Ron about the condition of his returned books.
Once they were released from Charms, Harry, Ron, and Hermione bolted their food before hurrying to the library. Harry noticed that Malfoy was once again absent. While gulping down his milk, he pondered about bluntly asking Crabbe and Goyle where the git was, but, as Hermione had pointed out, they probably didn't know. Their dull, tiny eyes kept darting anxiously around the corridors like lost little pups.
"This only proves that Malfoy's behind it!" hissed Ron as they entered the quiet, empty library. "His dear Death Eater father probably summoned him!"
Hermione sighed as they set their things down on their usual table in a secluded corner. Madam Pince was shelving books just three shelves down, her mouth pressed in a thin line as if expecting them to begin shouting at any moment.
"We don't know for sure if Malfoy has actually left Hogwarts," she whispered, pulling out her ink bottle and quill. "He could be sick, or just avoiding people. Everyone knows Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, and now everyone knows about," Hermione paused as her voice hitched, "-about Ginny."
Harry mimicked Hermione's movements as she and Ron argued over Malfoy's obvious guilt. He was inclined to agree with Ron that Malfoy had obviously rendezvoused with the Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest overnight, but he was used to Hermione trying to be objective. It was comforting, even if often ridiculous. Harry knew she didn't really believe Malfoy had nothing to do with Ginny's kidnapping; Ron knew it too, but he probably argued to keep himself from imagining what was happening to Ginny.
"Well, I'm sure Dumbledore knows," Hermione said briskly, drawing the argument to a close. "We can't do anything about Malfoy right now. What we can do is find out what spell Dumbledore used on Ginny and what Voldemort is up to."
"Does world domination ring a bell?" Ron muttered, pushing his chair back and rising.
Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing. Instead, she unfolded a parchment from her pocket and laid it down at the center of the table. "These are books that Professor Flitwick has had us use for research in the past. Ancient Spells for Modern Magic was just published last year. It has the Fidelius Charm, Harry."
"We know it's not Fidelius," said Ron, shaking his head.
"It's not the only spell in the book."
"I'll go get it," Harry said quickly.
Hermione followed him into the Charms section with her list, murmuring to herself as she brushed the tip of her quill against the titles on the thick binds of the books. Ron, on the other hand, randomly pulled a book off a shelf, glanced at the title, and then opened the cover to read the index. Harry half smiled as he glanced at his friend. It had taken five years for Ron to listen to Hermione's huffs before he ever read an index.
Returning to his own task, Harry searched the shelves for Ancient Spells for Modern Magic, wondering how long it would take to find Ginny's protection spell, and how that would help her. It wouldn't, not really, but as Hermione had said, it would help him.
He had just pulled the book-scarlet with gold etchings-when Ron suddenly exclaimed, "Hey! Death Do Part: Methods for Reaching Immortality!"
Harry and Hermione rushed over to where Ron was holding a heavy, antiquated tome covered with deep black velvet.
"And it's not in the restricted section?" wondered Hermione, voicing Harry's own question. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as she reached out to touch the soft cover where the calligraphic letters glittered in the same green that flashed through his nightmares. "I don't think I've ever seen it here before."
"And you know every book in the library, of course."
"Ron, I'm being serious. This doesn't look like it's been used much, but it definitely isn't new. Here-" Hermione moved her hand to the edge of the cover to open the book.
Harry held his breath, feeling every muscle in his body tense. The large, flat slab extended out to reveal parchment hardly smudged with ink or tattered from use. It had the look of a book used with only the most meticulous, reverent care. On the left side was a small list of students who had checked out the book. The heading read Restricted Section: By Permission of Professor Only! Only two names were listed. Liam Colfer of 5 May, 1959, had been the last to read it. The first-
"Tom Riddle!"
Harry didn't know who'd gasped the name, but it echoed in his ears. He stared at the carefully written name, suddenly seeing the same curves and angles forming other words, words from the past. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped back from his friends, unable to move his eyes from the inscription.
"Well," muttered Ron, "I guess we're on the right track."
~*~*~
Care of Magical Creatures was no longer conducted outside. At the beginning of the year, Harry had been surprised to learn that the Hogwarts grounds had an old stable built near the boat and greenhouses. In all the times he had explored the grounds, he had never noticed the stone building, which seemed to be made of the earth and castle. It was covered in overgrowth, but inside it was cool and pleasant, if somewhat dark, and filled with the strong aroma of animal sweat.
Gryffindor had class with Slytherin, and as Harry entered the stable, he could feel the usual tension between the houses increase a tenfold. As he caught Pansy Parkinson's sneer, he felt his fists clench with the urge to squash her face even further. Malfoy failed to appear, and Harry had the unpleasant feeling that the Slytherins were particularly pleased about it. Yet not a word was said as Professor Grubbly-Plank had them review their chapter over augureys, Irish Phoenixes with mournful songs whenever rain was brewing. The weather was indeed turning foul, as the shriveled, greenish black bird let out a throbbing cry toward the end of class.
During History of Magic, Harry pulled out Ancient Spells for Modern Magic and began taking notes on the various protection spells. Some were only relevant to gardening and protecting delicate herbs from pests and stronger plants. There were even protective charms to ward off dubious escorts, which made Harry blush. Many of them were outdated version of improved or altered charms and spells that he had already learned. Some had been rendered obsolete or illegal due to their harmful side effects or misuse. It seemed odd to Harry that such unusable spells were left in a modernized text.
He found the Fidelius Charm, but did not want to read it. It was possible that the book would mention the failed charm on his parents, and of course, it would falsely accuse Sirius of betraying Lily and James Potter. As he turned the page, he wondered if he would find the spell that had protected him at Privet Drive for most of his life. It did not matter to him; his days at number four were over.
While Professor Binns compared the first recorded and last remembered goblin rebellions, Harry skimmed over the section on the Murus Charm. "Before civilization was relatively peaceful, our magical and Muggle ancestors battled with each other and nature. Castles were fortified with walls and battlements, while a village could be protected from flood by a dike. The Murus Charm acted as both a strengthening and foundation charm for barriers and walls.
"Warlocks befriended to lords were often employed to use the Murus Charm. The charm became so popular that it was soon used on paddock fences, unstable structures, and even quarrelling lovers.
"The flexibility of the charm's defence was also responsible for its eventual obscurity by the seventeenth century. Hexes to break the Murus Charm's barrier were developed, rendering the spell useless. However, wizards and witches today often use a derivation of the charm for other spells for warding off offensive attacks and threats."
Harry reread the text again, feeling as if he had found something. It was only an insignificant three paragraphs at the bottom on a page filled with other seemingly unimportant charms, but wasn't that just like Dumbledore? He could have used the small and obscure charm with a more obvious spell with less flexibility.
Shaking with excitement, Harry scribbled down the information, barely finishing when the bell finally rang.
"I think I found something!" Harry burst as Neville, Seamus, and Dean hurried past his desk towards the door. Hermione and Ron were rubbing their eyes as they packed their bags in the desk across the aisle.
"Really?" said Hermione, immediately coming out of her stupor. "Let's not talk about it until we get to the library. I don't want people overhearing and gossiping about Ginny. More than they already are, anyway."
They had only just entered the library when Madam Pince approached them, looking very stern. "Headmaster Dumbledore has informed me that you are all to see him in his office. Immediately!"
Staring at one another, Harry, Ron, and Hermione obediently left the library for Dumbledore's office, the same question on all their minds: What had happened?
I apologize profusely to Ginny Weasley, who has been sending nasty little spiders into my room as revenge for her torture in this story.
Chapter Six
"Another Disappearance"
Early mornings were always a boring, uneventful time to be the sentry of Gryffindor Tower, and the Fat Lady usually enjoyed a pleasant doze just before the very few early risers wakened her from her morning nap. In past years she was interrupted by flushing Gryffindors returning from a midnight tryst in an unused classroom, but this year it had been different.
The Fat Lady had become bored with her quiet watches, and she had been secretly pleased that Mr. Potter had trusted her enough to keep vigil while he avoided the Gryffindors on the other side of her frame. However, he had grumpily fallen asleep, and now she was left with nothing to do.
But she kept her vigil.
It was peeking into the very earliest of morning hours, usually when the lovebirds tiptoed down the corridor, when Potter stirred.
"No . . . Ginny," he murmured, a slight vibration in the wall alerting the Fat Lady to the boy's twitching and shifting. "You!"
The portrait tried to lean out of her frame, but it was impossible, as she very well knew. And she didn't dare travel to the next frame to fully see Potter. Flustered, the Fat Lady stilled her body and the rustling of her pink silk dress. For a moment it seemed as if the boy had quieted and returned to sleep, but then he let out an angry, incoherent cry and thumped hard against the wall.
"Now, really!" exclaimed the Fat Lady. "Mr. Potter, I think you should wake up now-"
"Don't! No . . . Ginny!"
"Mr. Potter!"
A sharp, hissing gasp escaped from the restless body below her, and the Fat Lady glanced hesitatingly towards the closest portrait of a castle hall. Did she dare . . .? Then Potter seemed to quiet and she allowed herself to relax. But then a sound erupted from down below, like an animal being tortured. Suddenly Potter rolled away from the wall, far enough for the Fat Lady to clearly see him.
He was rigid, a vein bulging along his pale neck, and his face was grotesquely contorted. Horrified, the Fat Lady stared as the seventh year's mouth opened wide in a soundless scream. His face was red. She was certain he wasn't breathing. He lay there, twitching and screaming silently, until the Fat Lady couldn't stand it any longer.
"Mr. Potter!" she shouted, her voice shrill. "Mr. Potter, WAKE UP!"
And still he convulsed on the floor, bending with unnatural rigidity, then snapping into a fetal position before snapping back in an arch. What if he wasn't dreaming, but was being cursed?
"HELP! Professor McGonagall-Dumbledore-GRYFFINDORS!"
A stampede of footsteps sounded behind the portrait hole just before the Fat Lady was thrown wide open, nearly smacking into the adjoining wall where Potter had been sleeping peacefully. She heard the bewildered and frightened exclamations as Gryffindors poured into the corridor. With a disgruntled huff, she swung herself halfway closed, seeing a blur of pajamas and dressing gowns.
"Harry!" shrieked the Head Girl, her bushy hair wild as she pushed bodily through a wall of burly fifth years. "Stand back-I'm-oh never mind! Harry! Back away!"
"Stand back, everyone!" the Fat Lady hollered, wanting to see what was happening to Potter. She had to shout three more times before everyone had obediently backed away to reveal Granger and Weasley kneeling beside the tightly curled body of Potter. His eyes were squeezed tight shut, but the Fat Lady didn't know if he was faking it or not. At least he was breathing now, but only in shallow, ragged breaths. The Granger girl was stroking his sweaty fringe off his forehead, revealing his vividly red scar.
"Ron," she whispered, and the boy nodded, visibly gulping.
"What is going on?"
A simultaneous gasp erupted from the Gryffindors as Professor McGonagall came briskly up the corridor, Headmaster Dumbledore on her heels. McGonagall's graying hair floated around her in wisps like a specter, her night bonnet dangling by the bow around her throat. Dumbledore's usual hat was replaced by a ridiculous purple nightcap with a gigantic bauble banging rhythmically against the back of his head.
"What's all this?" McGonagall demanded, gesturing at Potter and then the Fat Lady. Without missing a beat, she waved her finger authoritatively over the Gryffindors. "All of you-to bed! Anyone loitering will lose ten points for Gryffindor!"
The Fat Lady sighed as her frame was abusively swung open. When she finally closed, she found Granger and Weasley unmoved. Potter's eyes were open and he'd uncurled his thin body, but he seemed only capable of sitting up. The seventeen-year-old sat in the middle of the corridor, furiously rubbing his forehead and trembling. His once fevered skin was now ghostly pale.
"What happened, Harry?" questioned Dumbledore gently. "A nightmare? A vision?"
Potter nodded but didn't raise his head. Instead, he seemed to recoil and hunch more into himself. After a full minute, he took a deep, steadying breath.
"It was Voldemort, sir," he said hoarsely, "and . . . and Ginny."
Beside Potter, Weasley sucked in a deep breath and swayed, and Grange's body stiffened.
"S-she's alive," said Potter. He paused, as if fighting with himself. Finally he said, "Voldemort used Cruciatus."
Weasley let out a strangled sound and whirled around, digging one fist into his palm.
"Is there anything else you can tell me, Harry?"
Another pause as Potter rubbed his scar. "It's fading . . . I think they were in a house, a big house, but I don't know how big. Wormtail was there, and Nagini-Voldemort's pet, and Lucius Malfoy." Potter's thin body shuddered and he rocked back and forth once before whispering, "A dementor was there, I remember the cold . . . and its breathing."
"Can you remember anything that was said?"
Potter thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry, Professor, I can't remember."
But even the Fat Lady could tell he was holding something back. Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall exchanged looks that mirrored the glance between Granger and Weasley. Potter had already dropped his chin, one hand raking madly through his disheveled hair. The Fat Lady pursed her lips and stared at Dumbledore expectantly, hoping he would pursue the matter further.
To her astonishment, Dumbledore gracefully knelt down on one knee, and with a long finger, tilted Potter's face towards his. The Fat Lady shuddered at the gentle but piercing gaze, not for a moment envying the young man under scrutiny.
Potter took a shuddering breath, his shoulders rising and falling under his robes. "He . . . he used a dementor on her, sir." The boy was trembling again, but the Fat Lady could not decide if it was with rage or fear or both. "Voldemort's using a bloody dementor on her!"
McGonagall and Granger gasped, each bringing a hand to their gaping mouths; Weasley made a choking noise and somehow grew paler. Dumbledore, on the other hand, only looked grimmer and rose to his full height, leaving Potter to huddle at his feet. One long fingered hand gave Potter's shoulder a squeeze before disappearing inside Dumbledore's robes.
"I must contact the Order," he said quietly, not a hint of panic in his voice. The Fat Lady recalled how calm and even Dumbledore had been after she'd been attacked by Sirius Black. "Harry, Ron, Hermione-you will all return to your dormitories and return to classes as usual tomorrow." He held up a hand to quell any protest as three teenage heads swung towards him. "I will inform you when I find it best. You three have been tremendously brave and helpful in the past, but we cannot be reckless. More than Ginny's life is at stake."
Potter and Weasley gave startled, angry protests, but Dumbledore gave them a sharp look. "Miss Weasley's life is as precious as each of yours and is very valuable to Voldemort. Stay in the castle. Good night."
The Fat Lady stared after the retreating backs of Dumbledore and McGonagall, the Transfiguration professor glancing back at the frozen trio of friends before disappearing into the shadows.
A long silence was interrupted by Granger. "I'm surprised he didn't escort us into the common room. I mean-" but then she stopped. Potter and Weasley were motionless for another minute, and then Potter seemed to jerk sluggishly to life. Once he was on his feet, each of his friends put an arm around him, and the Fat Lady reluctantly closed the portrait hole as they obediently returned to the common room.
~*~*~
The Gryffindor common room was unusually crowded when Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned, but it was unnervingly quiet. Harry kept his eyes fastened to the scarlet, ornamental rug as he allowed his friends to steer him to their private corner. He felt Hermione's arm slip from around his waist and her voice resounded sharply, however hoarsely, through the common room.
"It's past curfew! Gryffindors to bed! The last one in here loses five points!"
"I guess that's us then," whispered Ron from Harry's right.
Peering from underneath his fringe, Harry saw the habitual scramble towards the two staircases, but it was oddly slow and half-hearted. When the common room had cleared, Hermione's forceful hands-on-her-hips-Head Girl stance slumped and she turned back to Harry and Ron, her face ashen and her eyes bright.
"Harry," she said softly, sinking into an armchair, clasping her hands in her lap.
"I can't remember anything else," he said, which was true. Except that he could still feel the agony of Cruciatus and see Voldemort's glowing red eyes. He shuddered and struggled to even his breathing, hoping to fight off the tears he felt at the corners of his eyes. Ginny!
"She's alive," mumbled Ron after a moment. "She's still alive."
"That's right," said Hermione, lifting her head. Harry recognized that tone. "And although Dumbledore said we had to go to classes and stay in the castle, we can still help her."
Ron let out a snort. "How? By going to the library?"
Hermione sniffed. "Yes." She turned to Harry, who was giving her an incredulous look. "Harry, what did you and Dumbledore talk about?"
Sighing wearily, Harry recalled his conversation with Dumbledore, wondering if it really had been only a few hours ago. He faltered when he explained that Ginny had wanted it kept secret-even from him. When he'd finished, Hermione was searching her pockets for a quill and spare parchment.
"We can go down to the library after breakfast just before class and get started," she was saying as she frowned at her quill tip. No ink. "Dumbledore said it was a protective charm, right?" Harry nodded. "It was a simple one, but you don't have any idea which one?" Harry shook his head no. "Well, we'll just have to do some research."
"How is that going to help?"
"At least we'll know, right? And we'll know how to get around it-"
"Maybe You-Know-Who has a library as well-"
"Ron! Just let me finish." Hermione pushed her bushy hair impatiently away from her face and straightened her shoulder, as if about to tackle a tricky Arithmancy problem. Harry marveled at his friend. How could she approach this as they'd always done before? Ginny wasn't the Philosopher's Stone or the Heir of Slytherin or a Triwizard task. She was more than some prize, legend, or challenge!
Harry glared at Hermione, but then immediately softened his look. He knew she didn't mean it a she'd taken it. Suddenly Harry found it comforting that someone had a little control.
"We're not just researching for the spell," said Hermione. "We're going to try and figure out Voldemort's plan. Why does he have Ginny? What attempts there have been towards immortality, the means used, which ones were the most successful-"
Ron reached over and covered her mouth with his hand. "Okay, okay, we get it! We'll go the moment we can." Hermione nodded and he dropped his hand, but not before giving one of her frizzy curls a tug. She smiled softly at him. Harry had to turn away.
Silence had fallen over them again when Ron said, "Strange, isn't it?"
"What's strange?" asked Hermione.
"Ginny-I mean, that she knew. Harry said she thought maybe You-Know- Voldemort-would want her for something . . ." Ron swallowed noticeably, then doggedly continued. "You know, sometimes I think she knows a lot more than she lets on-no, don't give me that look, Hermione! Just if she knew about this, maybe she didn't get over the Chamber of Secrets?"
Harry's mouth fell open in astonishment. Could Ron really have thought that? That Ginny was completely unscathed by Tom Riddle's possession? Sure, she'd put up a convincing front, but Harry had noticed incidences before he'd become her friend that had suggested otherwise.
Ron must have read his and Hermione's stares, because he said quickly, "I mean, I know she had nightmares for awhile and had a phobia of diaries and places underground, but I thought . . . she'd seemed alright now, you know?"
Hermione let out a long sigh and shook her head. "She is alright, Ron. But that doesn't necessarily mean there wasn't some sort of lasting effect." She glanced at Harry, who had buried his hands in his hair. "Like Harry's scar still hurts, and, until fourth year, Voldemort couldn't touch him."
"So you're saying that there might be some-some Tom Riddle left in Ginny?" exclaimed Ron, eyes wide.
Harry clenched his fists, capturing tufts of hair in his grasp. It had plagued his mind, but he had valiantly tried to dismiss it.
"You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort can speak Parseltongue. Unless I'm much mistaken, he transferred some of his powers to you the night he gave you that scar."
What had transferred to Ginny? Harry wondered. The protection his mother had placed on him had made it painful for Voldemort to touch him, but it had been dissolved by Harry's own blood. Could Dumbledore's protection dissipate with Ginny's blood? Why did Voldemort need Ginny? Did she have some power of his that he'd lost the night he used Avada Kedavra on Harry?
Although he didn't want to voice his thoughts, Harry interrupted Hermione's claim that Ron was "pathetically unobservant" and "very insensitive." These would be things they would need to look up when the library opened later in the morning. Hermione had to run up to her dormitory for her ink bottle to make her list.
~*~*~
Harry's eyes were heavy when the first Gryffindors began to trickle down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He and Ron quickly changed into fresh clothes, grabbed their bags and books, and then joined Hermione down in the common room before heading down to breakfast.
The Great Hall was cautiously quiet with hissing whispers and darting looks when they entered. Avoiding everyone's gaze, Harry sank reluctantly onto the bench, not in the least hungry. It was a Monday and he had double Charms, which was better than Thursday afternoon where he had double Potions, but the thought didn't cheer him.
"Maybe we'll have a review over Protection Charms," said Ron as he pushed his eggs around his plate.
Hermione shook her head. "We did those in fifth year, remember?"
Ron rolled his eyes but said nothing. Harry stared down at his toast, feeling nauseated at the very thought of food. His stomach was empty, but he didn't feel hungry. Was Ginny getting any food, or were they starving her? He gripped his fork tightly in his fist, feeling anger and despair rise within him. Desperate to have someone evil to glare fiercely at, he looked across the Great Hall at Draco Malfoy.
Except Malfoy wasn't there.
Harry raised his head and cast his eyes over the whole of the Slytherin table, and then the Great Hall. Draco Malfoy's pale, rat-like face was nowhere to be seen, and nearly everyone was now eating breakfast. He gazed back at the Slytherin's usual spot, but only Crabbe and Goyle were there, flanking Malfoy's vacant seat and looking very confused and lost.
"Ron," Harry hissed. "Look."
Ron followed his gaze and swore softly. "The git probably knows better than to show his ugly face around here."
Hermione had taken three bites of toast, but looked sick as well, and dropped her toast. "Come on," she said, tugging on their robes. "Getting angry isn't going to help Ginny. Let's get to the library."
Exchanging dark looks, Harry and Ron gathered their bags and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall.
~*~*~
Concentrating in classes was impossible. Professor Flitwick did not comment when Harry and Ron failed to perform their Appearance Charms, but awarded ten points to Gryffindor when Hermione convinced the entire class that she was Madam Pince scolding Ron about the condition of his returned books.
Once they were released from Charms, Harry, Ron, and Hermione bolted their food before hurrying to the library. Harry noticed that Malfoy was once again absent. While gulping down his milk, he pondered about bluntly asking Crabbe and Goyle where the git was, but, as Hermione had pointed out, they probably didn't know. Their dull, tiny eyes kept darting anxiously around the corridors like lost little pups.
"This only proves that Malfoy's behind it!" hissed Ron as they entered the quiet, empty library. "His dear Death Eater father probably summoned him!"
Hermione sighed as they set their things down on their usual table in a secluded corner. Madam Pince was shelving books just three shelves down, her mouth pressed in a thin line as if expecting them to begin shouting at any moment.
"We don't know for sure if Malfoy has actually left Hogwarts," she whispered, pulling out her ink bottle and quill. "He could be sick, or just avoiding people. Everyone knows Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater, and now everyone knows about," Hermione paused as her voice hitched, "-about Ginny."
Harry mimicked Hermione's movements as she and Ron argued over Malfoy's obvious guilt. He was inclined to agree with Ron that Malfoy had obviously rendezvoused with the Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest overnight, but he was used to Hermione trying to be objective. It was comforting, even if often ridiculous. Harry knew she didn't really believe Malfoy had nothing to do with Ginny's kidnapping; Ron knew it too, but he probably argued to keep himself from imagining what was happening to Ginny.
"Well, I'm sure Dumbledore knows," Hermione said briskly, drawing the argument to a close. "We can't do anything about Malfoy right now. What we can do is find out what spell Dumbledore used on Ginny and what Voldemort is up to."
"Does world domination ring a bell?" Ron muttered, pushing his chair back and rising.
Hermione pursed her lips but said nothing. Instead, she unfolded a parchment from her pocket and laid it down at the center of the table. "These are books that Professor Flitwick has had us use for research in the past. Ancient Spells for Modern Magic was just published last year. It has the Fidelius Charm, Harry."
"We know it's not Fidelius," said Ron, shaking his head.
"It's not the only spell in the book."
"I'll go get it," Harry said quickly.
Hermione followed him into the Charms section with her list, murmuring to herself as she brushed the tip of her quill against the titles on the thick binds of the books. Ron, on the other hand, randomly pulled a book off a shelf, glanced at the title, and then opened the cover to read the index. Harry half smiled as he glanced at his friend. It had taken five years for Ron to listen to Hermione's huffs before he ever read an index.
Returning to his own task, Harry searched the shelves for Ancient Spells for Modern Magic, wondering how long it would take to find Ginny's protection spell, and how that would help her. It wouldn't, not really, but as Hermione had said, it would help him.
He had just pulled the book-scarlet with gold etchings-when Ron suddenly exclaimed, "Hey! Death Do Part: Methods for Reaching Immortality!"
Harry and Hermione rushed over to where Ron was holding a heavy, antiquated tome covered with deep black velvet.
"And it's not in the restricted section?" wondered Hermione, voicing Harry's own question. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as she reached out to touch the soft cover where the calligraphic letters glittered in the same green that flashed through his nightmares. "I don't think I've ever seen it here before."
"And you know every book in the library, of course."
"Ron, I'm being serious. This doesn't look like it's been used much, but it definitely isn't new. Here-" Hermione moved her hand to the edge of the cover to open the book.
Harry held his breath, feeling every muscle in his body tense. The large, flat slab extended out to reveal parchment hardly smudged with ink or tattered from use. It had the look of a book used with only the most meticulous, reverent care. On the left side was a small list of students who had checked out the book. The heading read Restricted Section: By Permission of Professor Only! Only two names were listed. Liam Colfer of 5 May, 1959, had been the last to read it. The first-
"Tom Riddle!"
Harry didn't know who'd gasped the name, but it echoed in his ears. He stared at the carefully written name, suddenly seeing the same curves and angles forming other words, words from the past. Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped back from his friends, unable to move his eyes from the inscription.
"Well," muttered Ron, "I guess we're on the right track."
~*~*~
Care of Magical Creatures was no longer conducted outside. At the beginning of the year, Harry had been surprised to learn that the Hogwarts grounds had an old stable built near the boat and greenhouses. In all the times he had explored the grounds, he had never noticed the stone building, which seemed to be made of the earth and castle. It was covered in overgrowth, but inside it was cool and pleasant, if somewhat dark, and filled with the strong aroma of animal sweat.
Gryffindor had class with Slytherin, and as Harry entered the stable, he could feel the usual tension between the houses increase a tenfold. As he caught Pansy Parkinson's sneer, he felt his fists clench with the urge to squash her face even further. Malfoy failed to appear, and Harry had the unpleasant feeling that the Slytherins were particularly pleased about it. Yet not a word was said as Professor Grubbly-Plank had them review their chapter over augureys, Irish Phoenixes with mournful songs whenever rain was brewing. The weather was indeed turning foul, as the shriveled, greenish black bird let out a throbbing cry toward the end of class.
During History of Magic, Harry pulled out Ancient Spells for Modern Magic and began taking notes on the various protection spells. Some were only relevant to gardening and protecting delicate herbs from pests and stronger plants. There were even protective charms to ward off dubious escorts, which made Harry blush. Many of them were outdated version of improved or altered charms and spells that he had already learned. Some had been rendered obsolete or illegal due to their harmful side effects or misuse. It seemed odd to Harry that such unusable spells were left in a modernized text.
He found the Fidelius Charm, but did not want to read it. It was possible that the book would mention the failed charm on his parents, and of course, it would falsely accuse Sirius of betraying Lily and James Potter. As he turned the page, he wondered if he would find the spell that had protected him at Privet Drive for most of his life. It did not matter to him; his days at number four were over.
While Professor Binns compared the first recorded and last remembered goblin rebellions, Harry skimmed over the section on the Murus Charm. "Before civilization was relatively peaceful, our magical and Muggle ancestors battled with each other and nature. Castles were fortified with walls and battlements, while a village could be protected from flood by a dike. The Murus Charm acted as both a strengthening and foundation charm for barriers and walls.
"Warlocks befriended to lords were often employed to use the Murus Charm. The charm became so popular that it was soon used on paddock fences, unstable structures, and even quarrelling lovers.
"The flexibility of the charm's defence was also responsible for its eventual obscurity by the seventeenth century. Hexes to break the Murus Charm's barrier were developed, rendering the spell useless. However, wizards and witches today often use a derivation of the charm for other spells for warding off offensive attacks and threats."
Harry reread the text again, feeling as if he had found something. It was only an insignificant three paragraphs at the bottom on a page filled with other seemingly unimportant charms, but wasn't that just like Dumbledore? He could have used the small and obscure charm with a more obvious spell with less flexibility.
Shaking with excitement, Harry scribbled down the information, barely finishing when the bell finally rang.
"I think I found something!" Harry burst as Neville, Seamus, and Dean hurried past his desk towards the door. Hermione and Ron were rubbing their eyes as they packed their bags in the desk across the aisle.
"Really?" said Hermione, immediately coming out of her stupor. "Let's not talk about it until we get to the library. I don't want people overhearing and gossiping about Ginny. More than they already are, anyway."
They had only just entered the library when Madam Pince approached them, looking very stern. "Headmaster Dumbledore has informed me that you are all to see him in his office. Immediately!"
Staring at one another, Harry, Ron, and Hermione obediently left the library for Dumbledore's office, the same question on all their minds: What had happened?