Chapter 28: Intrusion Harry stumbled up the stairs into his dormitory after midnight after walking Rachel to her room. One of the benefits of being a prefect, he had realized, was that no one questioned his late-night wanderings through the hallways. Opening his door, he saw the curtains drawn around each of the other beds. Quietly, he crept in and went to his own bed, lying down and immediately falling asleep. He did not notice that Ron's bed next to him was empty; he just assumed that he too was asleep. ******************* Ron and Hermione returned after a night on the town. They had enjoyed the evening, including butterbeer and a good dinner. They slipped through the dark night towards Honeyduke's to walk back through the passageway. They managed to enter the building silently and tip-toed towards the backroom. Hermione's heart was thumping loudly. "I don't like this, Ron," she whispered. "It's almost like we're breaking in." "Hermione, we're not going to steal anything! We're just going straight to the passageway. I don't know why you're so worried." he whispered back. She sighed, glancing around nervously even though they were underneath the invisibility cloak and no one could see them. "Something just feels wrong, I don't know how to explain it," she replied. Ron shrugged and they continued on in the house, reaching the room with the trapdoor. Ron lifted it and they both dropped silently into the hole. A single ray of moonlight crossed the opening in the ground. Ron brushed a stray strand of hair out of Hermione's face. "Mione, did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" he asked. She blushed furiously. Their faces came together, their lips touching softly. Just then they heard a quiet clicking noise. "Ron, someone is awake! Hurry, shut the trapdoor!" Hermione hissed. Grabbing the invisibility cloak, they lowered the lid silently. "I wonder if-" Ron began quietly, but Hermione clamped her hand over his mouth. "We have to leave. RIGHT. NOW." She hissed. Nodding, even though she could not see him in the darkness, Ron grasped Hermione's hand and began to pull her towards Hogwarts. Once they had gone a short distance, Hermione stopped, fumbling in the dark. "Lumos," she whispered as her wand lit up. She held the light up to Ron's face and saw the worry etched in it. "I think we're okay, as long as no one sees us come back in." Ron nodded again. They both gasped as they heard a loud "creak!" come from the other end of the tunnel. They looked at one another, eyes wide in terror, the tiny light from Hermione's wand illuminating their faces. "Someone's opened the trapdoor. RUN!" Ron whispered frantically. They took off, at first with the invisibility cloak covering them, but soon with it trailing behind as they sprinted towards Hogwarts. At last they reached the statue of the witch and clambered out of the passageway, dirty and panting with exhaustion. Luckily, there were no teachers present because of the late hour. They ran all the way back to the Gryffindor common room, breathing heavily. Ron sat shakily on the floor as Hermione collapsed into an armchair. "What are we going to do?" Hermione asked, still whispering. Ron looked up at her, confused. "What do you mean, what are we going to do? We made it back, Hermione, we're fine!" he said simply. She gave him a furious look. "Ron, someone else knows about the passage - and I don't think it's the owners of Honeyduke's. Remember that noise we heard when we were leaving Honeyduke's? That weird clicking? What if that was someone trying to break in? What if they did, and they found the door-" "Hermione, that's so far-fetched. We probably imagined it, just because we were scared, I mean it was probably the owner of Honeyduke's going to get a glass of water or something!" She looked at him angrily. "Then who opened the trapdoor?" she asked coldly. "Did we imagine that too?" "Maybe someone was just opening a door in the house. How can you know for sure?" he asked uncertainly. Hermione glared at him. "Ron, you know what this means. Someone else knows about the passage! We have to tell Dumbledore!" "Tell Dumbledore?" he roared. "Then they'll close it up! We'll never be able to use it again! Harry would - " "Harry would what?" said a sleepy voice from across the room. Harry stood at the foot of the stairs, still wearing the robes he had worn that day but now they looked quite crumpled, as if he had slept in them. His dark hair was messier than usual and he was rubbing his eyes. "Can you two keep it down a little? I was trying to sleep." "Sorry mate," Ron growled. "It's just that Hermione's trying to get rid of all of our secrets by telling the teachers." "RONALD WEASLEY! I was doing no such thing! I am merely trying to keep the school safe, as we all should be, since we're PREFECTS!" She screamed. Harry looked at the two, mystified. "Someone explain," he said simply, sitting down in a chair next to Hermione. Ron sat down abruptly and crossed his arms. "YOU can explain, Hermione, since you apparently know everything," he told her. "Fine," she snapped. "I will." There was a moment of silence. "Well?" Harry asked uncertainly. "Well. First of all, Ron decided that we should sneak out of Hogwart's and go to Hogsmeade using the passageway to Honeyduke's. He nicked your invisibility cloak, Harry, without even asking." "That's not important to the story," Ron argued as Harry eyed him angrily. "Get to the important part!" "Are you telling the story or am I?" she asked coldy, not waiting for an answer before she resumed. "Upon our return, we had to go back through Honeyduke's. We heard a noise, a distinct clicking, that I thought sounded like someone trying to break in to the building, but Ron thinks was a person getting a glass of water." Ron snorted angrily, but Hermione did not pause to give him time to comment. "We quickly closed the trapdoor and walked about halfway through the tunnel. When I stopped to light my wand, we heard a noise that sounded like someone opening the trapdoor. According to Ron, I imagined that too," she said sarcastically. "I came to the conclusion that someone knows about the passageway and they could be using it to get into Hogwart's. Don't you think so too, Harry?" she finished, looking at him sternly. "Ah..." He couldn't think of anything to say. Ron stared at him with a concerned look on his face. "Harry, she thinks we should tell Dumbledore! It would ruin everything!" he cried. Harry shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Hermione. Wait until we have some proof at least." Her eyes narrowed furiously. "What proof do you need? Are you going to wait until someone gets killed? ANYONE could be coming in through there!" she shrieked. "But Mione," Ron begged. "We don't know for sure, please, don't ruin this..." "I am so angry - with both of you!" she cried, stalking up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. "Mione!" Ron called pleadingly, racing up after her. The steps turned into a slide and he fell all the way back to the common room floor, sprawled across the ground. As tense as the situation was, Harry still had to fight back laughter at the sight of his best friend falling down the slide. He pulled himself into a sitting position and put his head in his hands. "Harry, what are we going to do? She can't tell!" he said desperately. "We'd all be in trouble." Harry sighed. "I know, Ron. We'll have to make sure she doesn't. For now, let's just go back to bed." Nodding, he stood up, wincing a bit from his fall, and followed Harry upstairs. ***************** The next morning at breakfast, Hermione refused to talk to either of them. The walk to the Great Hall was silent except for Ron's insistent pleas. "Please, Hermione, you have to understand-" he tried once again. She turned on him. "Ron - I haven't told yet, if that's what you're wondering." Harry and Ron breathed a collective sigh of relief. "But I intend to before today is over." "But you can't, now really-" "Ron, I am done listening. Leave me alone." She sat down at the Gryffindor table and pulled out a book. Harry looked at Ron and shrugged. "Tough luck, mate," he mumbled. He looked up and saw Rachel; from the Hufflepuff table across the room, she spied him and came over immediately. "Hi Harry," she greeted him warmly. "I was wondering if you'd like to hang out for a while after breakfast?" "Sure," he said quickly, ignoring Ron's angry glare. "I'd love to. In fact, I'm done now," he said, staring down at his eggs and toast that looked quite unappetizing in comparison to Rachel. He stood up and walked off with her, leaving Ron alone to deal with an angry Hermione. **************** Harry followed Rachel through the hallways, not really noticing where they were going because he was so happy to be with her. He glanced up and realized they had passed the Hufflepuff common room. "Uh, Rach? Wasn't that the common room, right back there?" he asked, confused, as he pointed behind him. "Oh, I thought we'd go to the study room. There probably wouldn't be anyone in there right now," she explained. Now Harry was even more confused. "The what?" he asked. "The study room? Don't you guys have one too?" she said, gesturing towards a slim wooden door in front of them. She turned the handle and walked into the room; it was fully furnished with beautiful wooden tables and a few well-padded chairs. A small library of books encircled the room; the shelves took up the entire walls. Harry stared in awe. Rachel laughed. "I guess I'll take that as a no. Of course, all the other houses have so much natural talent, whereas Huffelpuffs have to work hard to get good grades, so maybe we just needed one," she hypothesized. Harry stopped staring and sat in a comfortable plush chair. "So, what did you want to do?" he asked, stealing another glance at the mysterious room. Rachel began rummaging through her backpack. "I have an idea! Let's look at pictures," she said excitedly, pulling out a plain-looking photo album. Harry moved his chair closer to the table so he could see. "This one's of me and my aunt... that was my first day of school." A tiny blonde girl, about six years old, waved happily in front of a yellow school bus. An older woman with straight black hair stood next to her, smiling. "This was my mother..." A young woman with dark, haunting eyes and black hair in a braid that fell down her back smiled happily as she clung to the arm of a haughty-looking man. His blonde hair and pale green eyes were stunningly similar to Rachel's. "Is that..." Harry asked, and Rachel nodded. "My father. Or biological one, at least. I haven't seen him in years." She flipped the page. "This picture was taken last summer, when my aunt and I went to Spain to visit my mother's family; this is almost all of my relatives," she said thoughtfully. People of all ages, most with dark hair and a dark complexion, smiled back at Harry. Rachel stood out as one of the only ones with light hair, although her skin tone almost matched theirs. She seemed to know what Harry was thinking. "Sadly, I inherited most of my father's features," she said, scowling. She flipped the page again, this time to a pair of very similar boys who looked to be about 13 years old. "My brothers," she said simply. "Armro and Audric." Something clicked in Harry's brain. "What did you say their names were again?" he asked thoughtfully. They reminded him of something, something he couldn't quite remember. "Armro and Audric. Stupid names, if you ask me. My father chose them both because they meant 'noble'. As in pure-blood," she said, rolling her eyes. Harry's sudden remembrance nearly knocked him off his chair. "Tonight we will induct into the society two new members. Please step forward, Armro and Audric Marvolo." "Armro and Audric Marvolo," he said to himself, in a state of shock. Rachel looked at him curiously. "Harry? Are you okay?" she asked. He shook his head. "I have dreams... well, usually I remember them really vividly, but this one I must have forgot, because it's just coming back to me now... Somehow those names reminded me of it." Suddenly it hit him with intense force: the circle, the dark cloaks, the two blonde men and how odd they looked in comparison to the hidden faces of the Death Eaters... the Death Eaters! It was an induction ceremony, he remembered the dagger, the blood, the dark haunting eyes of the two men that mirrored the eyes of Rachel's mother... He pulled the album back towards him to examine the photo. Even as children, their eyes were the same. He gasped at the similarities. "Harry, what's wrong?" Rachel cried, alarmed. He shook his head violently. "I can't tell you," he muttered. She grasped his hand firmly. "Why not?" she demanded. "I have... I have dreams..." he started. "Lots of times I can see what Voldemort is doing. Last night I saw your brothers there with him." Rachel looked at him as if he were insane. "You see You-Know-Who?" she asked, concerned. "Harry, don't you think you should tell someone?" "I have," he said. "No one really cares anymore, I have some connection to him because of the scar." "Oh," Rachel replied, slightly less puzzled. "So they are Death Eaters? What were they doing there?" "I don't really remember... It's so fuzzy," he said, unconsciously rubbing his scar. "There was a mission... and blood... and.... I don't remember," he finished lamely. "I don't know what the mission was. Something about a mud-blood." Rachel gasped. "Harry, you don't remember anything? Anything else at all? It could be something important." He shook his head painfully. "Not right now. And I don't really want to think about it." ************************
