The boys didn't awaken until nearly noon the next day. Harry's first
thoughts were to find out what was going on in the rest of the castle but
the others started grumbling that they were hungry right away. During the
breakfast course, Harry confessed to Ron his feelings from the night
before.
"Don't give up, Harry!" Ron encouraged, dropping his water goblet onto his empty plate. "You can't! That's just what You-Know-Who wants! Don't give him the satisfaction. You'll win this thing, I just know you can."
Harry was content with the extra vote of confidence but was still concerned that he was only leading his friends into danger. But he had other things to share his mind's occupancy as well. The room was becoming stifling hot and almost unbearable to live in. That morning had greeted them with raindrops the size of bullets and the mist from outside, mixing with the dampness, kept clouding up the window. Neville sat on the windowsill, wiping the fog away from it every once in awhile, staring out at the grounds like he'd rather be anywhere but here. Harry couldn't blame him.
"My gran will be worried," he kept saying. "All our guardians will be worried when they find out the school has been taken over by You-Know- Who. They'll come looking for us."
"No, they won't, Neville," Harry assured his friend, but he wasn't so sure himself. What if Neville's grandmother and Seamus' parents came looking for him? Dean's parents were Muggles and probably wouldn't hear of the news until Dean told them, but they were bound to worry why their son wasn't home from school yet.
Ron suddenly looked concerned. "My parents! They flipped when Percy, well, you know. What if they come to fight You-Know-Who themselves? They'll never last!"
Harry found it rather silly that they were just thinking of this several days into the attack. He shook his head, knowing fully that if the Dursleys got word of what was happening, they would be outside the window, cheering on Voldemort. "I'm sure they won't panic," Harry tried to reason. "But we can't send owls! You know that. And the nearest fire is in the common room and I don't know about you guys, but I'm not traipsing down there just to talk to someone when Voldemort could be lurking in the shadows!" He stopped, his instant rage coming to a cool, while his friends looked at him in surprise.
"Okay," Ron replied meekly, sitting on the bed. Harry sighed, feeling immediately regretful over his explosion but he was just so damn worried. There were so many 'what ifs' running around in his head. What if Voldemort found a way to break down the door and killed his friends before killing him? What if the Weasleys, as well as many other worried parents, came to find their children and got killed themselves? What if, what if, what if? The thoughts were driving Harry mad and he hated to think that he could be the possible downfall of everyone close to him. He knew he had a choice to make, and the sooner the better. He waited until everyone was asleep that evening to take the chance to sneak outside the room.
The hallways were dark. Wearing his father's old invisibility cloak (he doubted that the cloak would fool Voldemort for very long so he had to move quickly) he hurried down the stairs and out into the common room. He was desperate to see what state the rest of the school was in, although he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.
Outside the common room was silence. The Fat Lady had left her portrait, possibly forever, so Harry took great care in placing a single sliver of a wooden stick in between the portrait and the hole so he could get back through. As light as air, he tiptoed through the hallway, amazed at how dark, depressing and dreary the castle seemed. Hogwarts had always been a place of happiness, but in the past month had turned into a place of desperation and tears. Harry hated to see the sad walls and empty portraits; it was like a very close friend was dying and there was nothing he could do.
Standing in the deserted hallway, he debated where to go. The world always seemed like his and his alone when he wore the cloak and tonight was no different, although there was a dark pall hanging over his head, knowing that Voldemort could attack him at any moment from any shadow. He might even be on his way over now. But Harry was tired of fighting; he wasn't scared of death.
Slowly he began creeping in the direction of Professor McGonagall's office, figuring that Voldemort had taken up headquarters in the Dumbledore's old office. (Although Professor McGonagall would have been the new Headmistress after Dumbledore, she had never taken over his office.) The hallways became more eerie as Harry walked and pretty soon he heard voices heading in his direction. He froze immediately, afraid of what was going to come around the corner.
Three Death Eaters marched around a dark corner, muttering angrily to themselves. "Damn that Potter," one hissed. "If he would just show his ugly face, we could be done and out of here by tomorrow!"
"Patience with baby Potter," snarled another and Harry recognized it to be Bellatrix Lestrange's voice. "We wouldn't want to upset precious Potter, now would we?"
"I don't care, one way or another," shot the first Death Eater that spoke. "As long as we get to leave soon."
"Patience is a virtue," slimed the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "Always patience with the Dark Lord, for he will reward us for it." He stopped speaking and turned suddenly in the direction of Harry's covered figure. His eyes narrowed and he glared into the darkness, like he was searching for something.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. This was it. He had stepped over the line. Why hadn't he just stayed in the room? Why did he have to be nosy? He held his breath for fear that any little noise would make Malfoy jump to attention and start hollering for Voldemort.
Malfoy continued to sneer into the darkness until he turned back to the other Death Eaters. "Thought I heard something," he muttered, glancing back into Harry's corner before the three of them walked away. As soon as Harry was sure they were out of sight, he let out an incredible sigh of relief. What a close call that was. He began sneaking down the hall again, in the opposite direction of the Death Eaters, soon coming upon the door to McGonagall's office. Peering through the tiny window in the door, Harry saw that all the surviving professors were being suspended in air by a massive blue, shimmering sphere. Gasping aloud, Harry watched as their heads lolled around with the motion of the moving orb. Their closed eyes made it seem like they were sleeping but Harry was unable to make out any breathing motions. Terrified for his teachers, he tore the door open only to hear a loud buzzing sound being emitted from the bluish sphere. He rushed to the side of Professor Sprout whose usually flyaway hair was being held in place by the huge globe, but he kept his hands away from the mystical object, afraid that it would do even more damage if he touched it.
So this was where all the professors were. Harry watched, spellbound, as Snape's head hung almost lifelessly, and marvelled at the fact that he really was on their side. He never had been on Voldemort's side, not since Harry had been at school. But a lot of good it did them now, with Voldemort in the castle, biding his time. But where were the rest of the students? Was the same force holding them captive?
"Who left the door open?" someone said out in the hall and Harry's blood ran cold. A Death Eater peeked around the corner of the door and shrugged. "It wasn't me, but no one's in here." He shut the door with a bang, leaving Harry scrambling for a way to get out of the room with the eerie blue light. Frantically, his mind raced with fear. If Voldemort came to check on the professors, Harry had no doubts that he would be able to detect Harry's presence and that was a scene he would much rather avoid for the time being.
Walking around the room, he noticed what looked like an old, antique mirror on the desk. Stepping up to it, he saw not his reflection, but a misty covering. Only once before had he come across a mystical mirror and that was the Mirror of Erised. Could this be a smaller version of it? Picking it up in his hands, Harry screwed up his face and imagined finding the other students and getting them all out alive and well, his heart's deepest desire. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see, not himself taking all Hogwarts students out of the castle, but four separate sections on the mirror, each displaying a House common room. Harry gasped as he saw the students sitting around, many of them crying. Except for the Gryffindor common room, there was not a soul to be seen there. But Harry recognized many of his fellow Gryffindors, including Ginny Weasley, scattered throughout the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff common rooms. Only the Slytherins seemed to be enjoying themselves.
So this mirror didn't show you your heart's desire, it showed you whatever you wanted to see at that time. Screwing up his face again, Harry pictured the Weasleys and upon opening his eyes was greeted with a sobbing Mrs. Weasley. Although there was no sound, Harry could tell that she was hysterical. Mr. Weasley was pacing around the room, making a feeble attempt every once in a while to calm down his wife before continuing his pacing. Harry felt an immediate surge of guilt. Ron and Ginny should be home with their family, not stuck here under Voldemort's reign of terror. This was all his fault. How could he be so selfish as to want to live when so many of his fellow students were suffering? What was his death compared to the hundreds that had already been lost? Voldemort didn't care; he just wanted Harry dead.
Looking up, Harry figured enough time had passed for him to sneak back out into the hallway. Taking one last look at the haunting figures suspended in air, Harry said a silent prayer for them and hurried back out into the darkness, double-checking to make sure that his invisibility cloak was wrapped tightly around him.
Back in his dorm room, Harry felt torn. Should he give up and spare the lives of the countless others in the castle? Or should he fight for his life, making Hermione and his parents' deaths seem less senseless, if that was possible? He was so torn between the two thoughts that he soon turned to tears and buried his face in his pillow to stifle his sobs so not to wake his friends.
"Don't give up, Harry!" Ron encouraged, dropping his water goblet onto his empty plate. "You can't! That's just what You-Know-Who wants! Don't give him the satisfaction. You'll win this thing, I just know you can."
Harry was content with the extra vote of confidence but was still concerned that he was only leading his friends into danger. But he had other things to share his mind's occupancy as well. The room was becoming stifling hot and almost unbearable to live in. That morning had greeted them with raindrops the size of bullets and the mist from outside, mixing with the dampness, kept clouding up the window. Neville sat on the windowsill, wiping the fog away from it every once in awhile, staring out at the grounds like he'd rather be anywhere but here. Harry couldn't blame him.
"My gran will be worried," he kept saying. "All our guardians will be worried when they find out the school has been taken over by You-Know- Who. They'll come looking for us."
"No, they won't, Neville," Harry assured his friend, but he wasn't so sure himself. What if Neville's grandmother and Seamus' parents came looking for him? Dean's parents were Muggles and probably wouldn't hear of the news until Dean told them, but they were bound to worry why their son wasn't home from school yet.
Ron suddenly looked concerned. "My parents! They flipped when Percy, well, you know. What if they come to fight You-Know-Who themselves? They'll never last!"
Harry found it rather silly that they were just thinking of this several days into the attack. He shook his head, knowing fully that if the Dursleys got word of what was happening, they would be outside the window, cheering on Voldemort. "I'm sure they won't panic," Harry tried to reason. "But we can't send owls! You know that. And the nearest fire is in the common room and I don't know about you guys, but I'm not traipsing down there just to talk to someone when Voldemort could be lurking in the shadows!" He stopped, his instant rage coming to a cool, while his friends looked at him in surprise.
"Okay," Ron replied meekly, sitting on the bed. Harry sighed, feeling immediately regretful over his explosion but he was just so damn worried. There were so many 'what ifs' running around in his head. What if Voldemort found a way to break down the door and killed his friends before killing him? What if the Weasleys, as well as many other worried parents, came to find their children and got killed themselves? What if, what if, what if? The thoughts were driving Harry mad and he hated to think that he could be the possible downfall of everyone close to him. He knew he had a choice to make, and the sooner the better. He waited until everyone was asleep that evening to take the chance to sneak outside the room.
The hallways were dark. Wearing his father's old invisibility cloak (he doubted that the cloak would fool Voldemort for very long so he had to move quickly) he hurried down the stairs and out into the common room. He was desperate to see what state the rest of the school was in, although he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know.
Outside the common room was silence. The Fat Lady had left her portrait, possibly forever, so Harry took great care in placing a single sliver of a wooden stick in between the portrait and the hole so he could get back through. As light as air, he tiptoed through the hallway, amazed at how dark, depressing and dreary the castle seemed. Hogwarts had always been a place of happiness, but in the past month had turned into a place of desperation and tears. Harry hated to see the sad walls and empty portraits; it was like a very close friend was dying and there was nothing he could do.
Standing in the deserted hallway, he debated where to go. The world always seemed like his and his alone when he wore the cloak and tonight was no different, although there was a dark pall hanging over his head, knowing that Voldemort could attack him at any moment from any shadow. He might even be on his way over now. But Harry was tired of fighting; he wasn't scared of death.
Slowly he began creeping in the direction of Professor McGonagall's office, figuring that Voldemort had taken up headquarters in the Dumbledore's old office. (Although Professor McGonagall would have been the new Headmistress after Dumbledore, she had never taken over his office.) The hallways became more eerie as Harry walked and pretty soon he heard voices heading in his direction. He froze immediately, afraid of what was going to come around the corner.
Three Death Eaters marched around a dark corner, muttering angrily to themselves. "Damn that Potter," one hissed. "If he would just show his ugly face, we could be done and out of here by tomorrow!"
"Patience with baby Potter," snarled another and Harry recognized it to be Bellatrix Lestrange's voice. "We wouldn't want to upset precious Potter, now would we?"
"I don't care, one way or another," shot the first Death Eater that spoke. "As long as we get to leave soon."
"Patience is a virtue," slimed the voice of Lucius Malfoy. "Always patience with the Dark Lord, for he will reward us for it." He stopped speaking and turned suddenly in the direction of Harry's covered figure. His eyes narrowed and he glared into the darkness, like he was searching for something.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. This was it. He had stepped over the line. Why hadn't he just stayed in the room? Why did he have to be nosy? He held his breath for fear that any little noise would make Malfoy jump to attention and start hollering for Voldemort.
Malfoy continued to sneer into the darkness until he turned back to the other Death Eaters. "Thought I heard something," he muttered, glancing back into Harry's corner before the three of them walked away. As soon as Harry was sure they were out of sight, he let out an incredible sigh of relief. What a close call that was. He began sneaking down the hall again, in the opposite direction of the Death Eaters, soon coming upon the door to McGonagall's office. Peering through the tiny window in the door, Harry saw that all the surviving professors were being suspended in air by a massive blue, shimmering sphere. Gasping aloud, Harry watched as their heads lolled around with the motion of the moving orb. Their closed eyes made it seem like they were sleeping but Harry was unable to make out any breathing motions. Terrified for his teachers, he tore the door open only to hear a loud buzzing sound being emitted from the bluish sphere. He rushed to the side of Professor Sprout whose usually flyaway hair was being held in place by the huge globe, but he kept his hands away from the mystical object, afraid that it would do even more damage if he touched it.
So this was where all the professors were. Harry watched, spellbound, as Snape's head hung almost lifelessly, and marvelled at the fact that he really was on their side. He never had been on Voldemort's side, not since Harry had been at school. But a lot of good it did them now, with Voldemort in the castle, biding his time. But where were the rest of the students? Was the same force holding them captive?
"Who left the door open?" someone said out in the hall and Harry's blood ran cold. A Death Eater peeked around the corner of the door and shrugged. "It wasn't me, but no one's in here." He shut the door with a bang, leaving Harry scrambling for a way to get out of the room with the eerie blue light. Frantically, his mind raced with fear. If Voldemort came to check on the professors, Harry had no doubts that he would be able to detect Harry's presence and that was a scene he would much rather avoid for the time being.
Walking around the room, he noticed what looked like an old, antique mirror on the desk. Stepping up to it, he saw not his reflection, but a misty covering. Only once before had he come across a mystical mirror and that was the Mirror of Erised. Could this be a smaller version of it? Picking it up in his hands, Harry screwed up his face and imagined finding the other students and getting them all out alive and well, his heart's deepest desire. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see, not himself taking all Hogwarts students out of the castle, but four separate sections on the mirror, each displaying a House common room. Harry gasped as he saw the students sitting around, many of them crying. Except for the Gryffindor common room, there was not a soul to be seen there. But Harry recognized many of his fellow Gryffindors, including Ginny Weasley, scattered throughout the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff common rooms. Only the Slytherins seemed to be enjoying themselves.
So this mirror didn't show you your heart's desire, it showed you whatever you wanted to see at that time. Screwing up his face again, Harry pictured the Weasleys and upon opening his eyes was greeted with a sobbing Mrs. Weasley. Although there was no sound, Harry could tell that she was hysterical. Mr. Weasley was pacing around the room, making a feeble attempt every once in a while to calm down his wife before continuing his pacing. Harry felt an immediate surge of guilt. Ron and Ginny should be home with their family, not stuck here under Voldemort's reign of terror. This was all his fault. How could he be so selfish as to want to live when so many of his fellow students were suffering? What was his death compared to the hundreds that had already been lost? Voldemort didn't care; he just wanted Harry dead.
Looking up, Harry figured enough time had passed for him to sneak back out into the hallway. Taking one last look at the haunting figures suspended in air, Harry said a silent prayer for them and hurried back out into the darkness, double-checking to make sure that his invisibility cloak was wrapped tightly around him.
Back in his dorm room, Harry felt torn. Should he give up and spare the lives of the countless others in the castle? Or should he fight for his life, making Hermione and his parents' deaths seem less senseless, if that was possible? He was so torn between the two thoughts that he soon turned to tears and buried his face in his pillow to stifle his sobs so not to wake his friends.