Chapter 16: Home Bittersweet Home
Harry wasn't as shocked as he'd thought he should be, to find out that he was now blind. Though perhaps this was because he was currently more concerned with the thudding headache at his right temple.
The floor was cold, and fine grit ground into the side of his head where he lay. The thick smell of dirt and dust hovered at the floor. Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position, his head swimming.
Groaning softly, he passed a hand in front of his eyes, although he knew the result would be…nothing. And it was.
It was then that panic started to seize him. He was blind! There must have been an accident… What had happened? He'd been falling. Falling so far, and so fast. But then he was here. It's all so black! Why can't I see? The thoughts raced frantically around his mind, and he clenched his fingers into a fist against the floor, the sharp corners of grit and stone scraping his knuckles, making him hiss through his teeth.
His efforts to recall what had just happened were interrupted with another groan – but Harry was sure this one didn't come from him. He whipped his head toward the sound, and strained to see, out of habit.
To his obvious relief and appeasing his logical mind, Harry found that the more he looked toward the sound, the more he could make out the faint outline of a shape – a hunched figure balled up on the floor some distance from him. It moved, and Harry gave a sharp intake of breath.
"Who's there?" the shape whispered, in a panicked tone.
They can't see me, Harry realised, and his breathing relaxed with the discovery that he was, in fact, not blind. "Ron?"
A pause. "Harry?"
"Where are we?"
"I don't know," Ron's voice came back, laced with fear. "It's so dark in here. I can't see a thing. I- oh wait, I think- I'm starting to see you now, sort of."
Harry blinked and strained his eyes, and Ron's outline became clearer, although it was still too dark to make out his face very well.
Harry scrambled to his feet, and immediately wished he hadn't done it so fast. "I don't think there are any windows in here," he said, and he began to slowly pace along the wall, his fingers skimming across the unfurnished chilly walls. The brick was solid and fortified. "I think we're in some sort of castle," Harry concluded, stopping his inspection of the wall with a sigh. "But I don't think it's Hogwarts. I'm not getting a happily-ever-after feeling about this."
"This floor is really uncomfortable," Ron said. It occurred to Harry that they were probably sore due to all the time they spent motionless and unconscious. He heard Ron start to shuffle around in search of a more comfortable position.
"Ouch! Ron! You scratched me!"
"Hermione?"
"Yes, it's me," Hermione replied, sounding exasperated. "And before you ask me, no, I don't know where we are, or why."
"We must be closed up in some room," Harry concluded.
"I wonder who would do that," Ron said, sounding as though he didn't have to wonder very much to come up with a logical answer. Harry saw the Ron-shaped outline stand, and begin to wander slowly along the room, his hands outstretched.
"Hey! Don't invade my personal space, Weasel!"
"Malfoy?"
"No, it's the Dark Lord himself," Draco replied sarcastically. "Be respectful."
"What are you doing here?" Ron asked, incredulously.
"Probably for the same reason as you, I'd venture to guess. Would you like to share why that is?"
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. My point was, if we're being kept here by who we think we are, shouldn't you be out there being patted on the back and congratulated, or sharing in glory?"
Harry couldn't see Draco's facial response to this, of course, but the abrupt opening of the door interrupted whatever it was. Light spilled into the room in such harsh brightness, Harry squeezed his eyes shut trying to block it out. He opened them a chink, trying to get accustomed to the light.
He was eventually able to see a hooded figure framed in the doorway, that appeared to be chuckling softly, before it said, "Ah, Mr Potter, I see you and your two little friends are awake. I trust your headache wasn't too bad. Mr Malfoy…" Silence reigned within the room as the hooded figure continued in a less cruel tone, "…the Dark Lord will like to speak to you in person. Come with me."
To Harry's growing horror, he saw Draco gracefully move from his supervising leaning position against the stone wall, and stride confidently to the door, with the cold and evil grace of a gliding Dementor. Under the approving glance of the Death Eater, Draco Malfoy looked back at Harry and from under a wave of platinum hair and gave him the most victorious evil sneer Harry had seen in a long while, before he walked ahead of the Death Eater out of the door.
"No, Ginny," Fred was saying to his sister as they walked back into the house from the garden. "I tell you I didn't mean to throw the gnome right at you. The breeze must have lifted it."
"There was no breeze!" Ginny replied indignantly.
"Really? I'm sure there was. I could have sworn I felt one lift the gnome out of my hands-"
"Oh, just shut up," Ginny grumbled as she started up the stairs, Fred following her.
"Hey, Fred! Come here!" came George's loud voice from the twins' room. Fred rushed passed his sister as he took the steps two at a time, and Ginny jogged along behind him to see what George was yelling about.
"What is it?" Fred asked his twin as he came into the room, Ginny trying to peek around him. "What- oh…."
George had lifted a pair of trousers he'd worn that morning – before his mother had told him to change before de-gnoming the garden – and showed the belt that was still threaded through the loops.
Now both boys were staring at the spelled object fastened to the belt, which was glowing brightly, and heat radiated off it in waves.
"He's got Harry!" Fred exclaimed in alarm.
George's equally alarmed look heightened as he saw his inquisitive sister also receive this information. "Ginny…"
Ginny spun around and ran from the room.
The small stone room that was their prison was in darkness again. But nothing compared to the darkness that consumed Harry. Part of him felt betrayed and foolish, and another part was almost laughing at him. Had he really believed that Draco Malfoy was on their side after all? But Tony's theory had even made sense… Harry strained to remember a moment when Draco had alluded to being on their side, but hung his head as he realised there had been none. He had let his guard down around the blonde, believing him to not be the antagonist he'd previously thought, but now the boy had shown himself to be a Judas. What could he have done to Harry in the past ten days that would make Voldemort so pleased? Harry was filled with self-disgust and betrayal.
"So Tony and Trina were wrong, it would appear," Ron said bitterly. "Not that I'm surprised Tony would concoct some elaborate theory like that, seeing as she liked Malfoy so much."
"Ron…" Hermione started to censure, but trailed off as she could think of nothing to say. "What do you think Malfoy is saying?" she finally finished.
"Who knows," Ron said, sliding down the wall and to the floor with a sigh of resignation. "How did Voldemort find us? I mean, when he took us back, we weren't even in the same place that we arrived – we were way up the country!"
"Maybe it was just some sort of reversal spell," Harry said. "I mean, there were other people around us at Rainbow's End, but they didn't come here with us. And Tony and Trina aren't here. So maybe it just brings back those it sent over in the first place."
"I've read about those spells," Hermione said. "But he still would have had to know where we were – that spell can't be just broadly thrown out into the world to bring back someone, wherever they are. It's a localised charm – the caster would still have to have known where we were."
"Then how?" Ron asked, perplexed.
Hermione sighed. "Malfoy, I would suspect. If he's a Death Eater, he's probably marked. As long as Malfoy stayed with us, Voldemort would have known where we all were."
"So that would have been his task," Harry said, in dark conclusion. "So much for the just-hexing-us story. He knew the spell was going to happen, so he made sure he was close behind us at the time."
"That- that-…" Ron spat, but couldn't seem to find an adequate description of Draco Malfoy.
"I guess some people are just a waste of hope," Harry concluded sadly.
The door opened again, reintroducing the room to the harsh light on the other side. The same hooded figure met them again, and seemed to be amused before at last he spoke.
"Not so confident now, are you, Mr Potter?" he said, icily. "Betrayed by one of your own companions – someone you had grown to trust." He let out a dry strangled laugh. "And now it's your turn to come before the Dark Lord, although perhaps your welcoming will not be so warm as Mr Malfoy's."
"Ginny, wait!" George called as he ran down the stairs after his sister. "Where are you going?"
Ginny spun around abruptly at the foot of the stairs. "Dumbledore has to be told! I need to find him! He'll be able to help! He'll be able to stand up to Voldemort and get Harry back-"
"Whoa, Ginny, don't-"
"Don't start at me about being too young, or this being too dangerous! Ron's been in loads of dangerous situations, and he's not known for being braver than me!"
"That's true, you know," Fred admitted to George. "She's scary sometimes. Knowing the little brother, his survival can be put down to a run of luck."
"Well," George seemed to be fighting a losing battle with his conscience. Not surprising really, as his conscience usually didn't have a say in anything, so was probably out of practice. "How did you plan to find Dumbledore, anyway? He's not allowed at the school, so he won't be there."
Ginny silently fumed at her inability to give an answer. "I'll find him somehow."
"We'll find him somehow," corrected Fred.
A sharp rapping came on the window by the kitchen.
"Was Errol out?" queried George.
"No, it can't have been him," Fred answered as he made his way toward the kitchen.
As soon as he rounded the corner, his siblings behind him, he saw the deep red plumage of their means of finding Dumbledore.
"Fawkes!" Ginny cried. "Now we can get to Dumbledore! Quickly, let's go!"
"Did mum see-?"
"No," Ginny interrupted. "She went out shopping after she sent us into the garden. See?" She pointed to the family clock, where their mother's picture was pointed to 'in town'.
Ginny scrawled a note quickly, for her mother to find, saying they had gone out and not to worry. "Now let's go!" She grabbed her cloak from the hook beside the door, and ran outside to follow Dumbledore's phoenix, who had risen from the sill and hovered in the sky, waiting for the trio to follow.
The twins also fetched their cloaks before running out of the door to follow the bird. Fawkes built up a fair speed as he headed towards the village of Ottery St Catchpole, and soon Ginny and the boys were puffing and grumbling.
"I hope he's not planning to make us run to the other end of the country," Fred got out between several puffs.
Soon after Fred said this, as they were approaching a neat row of buildings on a quiet street of the village, Fawkes ducked into an alleyway, any surrounding muggles conveniently not noticing the bright red creature. A trick of Dumbledore's, Ginny suspected.
The bird alighted on a stack of crates at the end of the alley, towered next to a brick wall that signified the dead end.
"Oh, you've got to be joking," George said disbelievingly, out of breath, as the trio came to a standstill at the wall. "Unless Dumbledore's shrunken to half his size and balled himself up in one of those crates for no particular reason-"
But even as he spoke, Fawkes rose again and continued to fly – this time through the wall.
"Oh, well that makes a lot of sense then," Fred said, and he quickly followed.
The trio found themselves in another alleyway, similar to the one they had just left. Not much morning light found its way to the narrow wayside in which they now stood, and the back doors of mono-coloured shops lined the dim alley. Their personal guide phoenix disappeared into one of the open doors, and the three Weasleys quickly followed.
"We're not going to get in trouble for coming in the back, are we?" worried Ginny. Her concern wasn't shared – her brothers looked positively delighted with the idea.
They continued to follow where Fawkes had disappeared, and soon rounded a corner that took them to a cozy-looking lounge – even though some of the couches were a little worn, they looked comfy enough. It was more sunlight-illuminated than the rest of the shop. A few witches and wizards were dotted around the room having drinks or cake, but even so, there was only one with the company of a brilliantly coloured phoenix.
"Ah, you've arrived," Dumbledore said to them amicably. "I sent Fawkes because I had hoped his arrival would cause less of a disturbance."
"Mum wasn't home anyway," Ginny said as she sat down on one of the pale green overstuffed couches near Dumbledore.
"I see. Well, do sit," the old wizard said to the twins, and he himself took a seat near the window, where Fawkes had an good vantage point in surveying the street outside. "I presume you are wondering why I had an interest in seeing you all-"
"He has Harry!" Ginny blurted, and then quietened her voice in embarrassed surprise at her outburst. "We wanted to find you to tell you, and that's when Fawkes came, so we followed, and here you are, so we had to tell you and-"
"There is no need to get yourself in such a state," Dumbledore said, raising his hand in a calming gesture. "I know of Harry's approximate whereabouts, due to means of my own." He looked at the twins and cocked an eyebrow, "Although I can only imagine how it is that you know." His eyes held an amused twinkle at the twins' ever-astute initiative. Fawkes was looking keenly outside, studying something.
"How did you know?" Ginny asked, enthusiastically. "What's going to happen? Is he alright?"
"I will answer your questions as best as I can," he assured them as Fawkes glided from his window seat to his object of interest outside. "But first, would you like a chocolate-fizz shake? I took the liberty of buying some for us all – they should be coming soon. Ah, here they are."
The Weasleys turned to see a rather oddly dressed girl carrying a tray of tall glasses with a spoon in each one. She looked like a common muggle, although this was a wizarding shop so she couldn't have just wandered in. To the Weasleys' surprise, instead of leaving to return to the kitchen upon depositing the tray of shakes on the table in front of them, she sat down on a couch opposite to join them.
The surprise and confusion must have registered on their faces, as the girl looked faintly embarrassed and looked up to Dumbledore to explain.
"Allow me to introduce our friend here," the kindly wizard said, motioning to the new arrival. "This is Trina, and she is the reason I know where Harry is."
Before Dumbledore could be questioned further, there was a flurry of activity at the door, and a panicked figure came running in behind Fawkes, and drew to a stop in front of Dumbledore.
"You need to come with me to help Harry Potter," came the urgent prompting. "I can take you to him."
Harry felt his heart leap into his throat and choke him, as he heard the Death Eater's morbid invitation to accompany him into Voldemort's presence.
"Harry…" Ron squeaked, but couldn't get out any more words.
"Oh," the Death Eater added, as if as an afterthought, "your friends will come too, of course."
Ron's fear, if possible, doubled. Hermione was frightened and shocked into speechlessness.
The Death Eater's cape swished ominously behind him as he turned and began to walk away, and the Gryffindors wordlessly followed.
The room they were led into was huge. Flickering fire torches lined the walls on either side of them, and grotesque insignias were sported on the hanging tapestries. Well suited to an evil wizard. In patronising irony, Harry was escorted up the broad red carpet to the end of the room, where he knew sat the one he dreaded most.
Voldemort.
Harry heard a pathetic whimper behind him, and he knew that Ron and Hermione were being escorted close behind, flanked on either side with a Death Eater.
Harry was finally jerked to a stop, Ron and Hermione packed behind him, and he allowed his eyes to travel upward to see his captor.
Voldemort was every bit as sinister as Harry remembered. He looked as if he'd never seen sunlight in his life – which, Harry supposed, he probably hadn't. Not since his bodily resurrection at the graveyard at the end of his fourth year at Hogwarts. And if the wizard ever ventured outside, it would most probably be at night. All considered, the deathly pallor was no great surprise, albeit a little unnerving.
If anyone had never known of Voldemort or whether he was evil, his eyes would leave no doubt in their mind. The red livid eyes radiated hostility as they bored down into Harry. His flat nose with slitted nostrils made him look like an anaemic but deadly snake. An ironic comparison for the notorious once-Slytherin.
"Mr Potter," he wheezed maliciously. "Again we meet. This should be counted as a great honour for you – it is not often that any opponent of mine faces me on so many occasions."
Harry looked at the dark wizard as defiantly as he dared, but said nothing.
"It was with much disappointment I learnt of your absence," he said, and Harry couldn't help widening his eyes in surprise to hear that their stay in New Zealand hadn't been part of any plan. "You're surprised, I see," Voldemort continued. "You and your…friends. Yes, it was an act of incompetence by one who was swiftly dealt with." Harry heard Ron gulp again. "But even in a situation so outside of my initial plans, I was fortunately able to recover control. I have waited many years for things before – so although I'm not known as a patient man, I was able to wait, and watch, as you made you way up the new country you found yourselves in. Would you like to know how I knew of your progress?"
"I know already," Harry replied indignantly to the patronising tone.
"Oh, really?" Voldemort asked, in part surprise and part amusement. "Do inform me."
"It was by your vile mark. All the time you could see, and it was right along with us."
Voldemort laughed gleefully. "Yes indeed. A mark I had placed on a companion of yours – well done. I could always see you had wits about you, although perhaps more than I have given you credit for…"
"Did you plan for your quaint little spy to get close enough to find some sort of secret from us?" Harry sparked, heatedly. "That excuse for a person never learnt anything of benefit to you."
"Ah, but became close, Mr Potter?"
Harry fell silent again, reminiscing of his failure – of his vulnerability and misplaced trust to Draco Malfoy. "Not close enough," Harry said conclusively, "and nor will he ever be, now."
Something Harry had said had struck Voldemort as…odd? Or just interesting… He looked at Harry intently. "I'm sure you would have many things to say to the friend-turned-traitor-" Voldemort began.
"He was never my friend," Harry interrupted.
"-I can present your…friend…if you wish," Voldemort finished.
Harry was positive he didn't wish it. He didn't want to see Draco Malfoy's face again. He could still remember with clarity the victorious sneer he'd been delivered from this person who'd had a hope of redemption – but no longer.
But Voldemort must have already motioned for Draco to come out, Harry supposed, as there was a great creaking of a massive door behind Voldemort as several Death Eaters emerged, presumably escorting the victorious Draco, who had probably been given a medal, now.
As if presenting an award, Voldemort announced, "I present…the traitor of the great and mighty Harry Potter into my hands."
With that the crowd of Death Eaters prodded someone forward, and Harry prepared to meet the victorious grey eyes again.
Except the eyes weren't grey – they were blue.
A blue almost as vibrant as the hair.
For moments that seemed like hours, Harry could not say anything. He couldn't see the reactions of his friends behind him, but he imagined they were similar.
"Perhaps," Voldemort broke the stunned silence, "not more wits than I gave you credit for. Although admittedly, your theory came close. Your idea, although prudent, could not in fact have worked – as most people know, only after a certain age do I allow anyone to be initiated formally into my circle. Draco Malfoy is not yet old enough to receive the 'Dark Mark' – an unfortunate status to be rectified on his next birthday. "
Harry continued to stare in transfixed shock at Tony as Voldemort explained this in his arrogant victorious tone.
"Harry-" started Tony, but was quickly cut short by Voldemort.
"Silence! Or you will again know the touch of the Cruciatus! Now is not the time for me to deal with you."
Tony gnawed on her bottom lip and fell silent.
Voldemort looked thoughtful for a moment, and then commanded, "Bring the young Malfoy to me."
The Death Eater standing near Harry hitched his breath at this. Harry recognised him as the one who had taken Draco from their company earlier.
"M- my Lord?" he started, quaking, and his eyes held the fear of a condemned man. "I had supposed you would like to see him, my Lord…supposed he had served your purpose…"
Voldemort's eyes darkened ominously.
"…I sent him first. I presumed he had arrived to you."
Voldemort stood, enraged. "What?! I did not give you any such instruction! How dare you presume to dictate them!" The Death Eater cowered under his Master's gaze. "And did you not accompany him?!"
"My Lord, I thought-"
"He is an uninitiated youth – in effect, not yet my follower. You obviously did not think! You insolent, incompetent fool! CRUCIO!"
The screams of the collapsed Death Eater under the curse governed the room; their ring hovering even after the curse was lifted.
"Do you understand the foolishness of what you have done?" Voldemort said darkly.
"Yes, my Lord," the Death Eater bleated. "I'm so sorry – so sorry, my Lord. It won't happen again."
"No," Voldemort agreed. "It won't. AVADA KEDAVRA!"
This time there were no anguished screams – no sound but for Ron's all-encompassing gasp of horror and fear.
"Now I must find the boy!" Voldemort yelled, frustrated, his eyes glowing dangerously.
"I would say you have more pressing concerns at the moment, Tom," came a new voice.
Harry spun around in surprise to see the new entrants to the room – Dumbledore walking slowly and surely towards Voldemort, followed by Fred, George, and Ginny.
And all had their wands drawn.
"Dumbledore…" Voldemort said, his tone bitter but with a trace of apprehension.
"Indeed," the old man replied authoritatively. "Your history of animosity with Harry Potter is known enough, but I see no reason for you to threaten these two." He glanced momentarily at Ron and Hermione before returning his gaze levelly to the evil wizard before him.
"I never need a reason, Dumbledore," he replied sinisterly.
The old wizard surveyed Voldemort calculatingly before replying, "One of the things that make you unable to be a truly great wizard, Tom."
The creature that was Tom Riddle hissed alarmingly as he stood. "I have reached my ambition – I have become feared and respected! That is great enough!"
"Enforced respect driven by fear is not a medallion of honour."
"It does not matter!"
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, and he looked at Harry and his friends, who were each almost quaking in defenceless fear. "And you would endeavour to show a display of greatness by defeating a small group of unarmed children? That does not justify a victory, Tom."
Harry's throat was dry. Three armed wizards and an underage witch, he thought, against Voldemort and about fifty Death Eaters…
The cloaked and hooded figures still slowly milled around the room, each trying to get a better view of the interaction, whilst trying to maintain what they deemed a safe distance from the enraged wizard. Occasionally a new Death Eater would emerge from one of the doors and stop to witness the scene that it may or may not have expected.
"Your opinion of me is surely not so noble as to expect fair play," Voldemort was saying past a malevolent grin. "I play to win."
A Death Eater sidled up to the one flanking Harry, and said something in a deep hoarse whisper, to which the man slightly dipped his head and moved aside, allowing the new hooded figure to move next to Harry, to closely guard him in his stead. Harry felt the acrid breath of the first Death Eater on his neck as the man shuffled off.
The torchlight on the walls didn't allow for daylight clarity, and Harry was glad he could not see the lurid faces of the men. The Death Eater at his side now was only a little taller than he was, but hunched suspiciously.
Harry stiffened in wary panic as he felt the tip of a wand press against his back. So that was Voldemort's plan, Harry realised. To keep Dumbledore preoccupied with the 'Dark Lord' himself, leaving Harry open to be smote!
As panic welled within him, Harry felt the wand tip travel slowly down his back, as if his captor was casually speculating where to strike him. To his surprise, the wand continued to travel slowly down until it was in his palm, and then nervous fingers were wrapping his own tightly around the end. Harry now recognised it as the handle, not the tip, and to his increasing surprise, recognised it as his own.
Harry gasped quietly, and dared a look at the new robed figure – he couldn't see much of a face in the starkly supplied light of the room, but he didn't need much to illuminate that notorious white hair.
Somewhere beneath his shock and his struggle to comprehend, Harry was thankful that neither Ron nor Hermione had made any noise to give away what had just happened – though surely they must have seen it.
Dumbledore and Voldemort were still in the midst of a heated sparring, but Harry was now only dimly aware of it, as Draco muttered almost silently toward Harry's ear, "Hide it."
Harry didn't have much need or inclination to question the order. After all, as long as Voldemort thought he was unarmed, so much the better. Harry managed to get the wand to slide up his sleeve – after a bit of awkward shuffling that he was terrified would be noticed – where it was sufficiently kept from sight but was still easily able to be wielded at a moment's notice.
Only minutes after this exchange, the first Death Eater emerged again from a neighbouring room and glided over to Harry. As he approached, Draco – unidentified under his hood – dipped his head and moved submissively from them as the former again took his place. Harry's eyes followed Draco's slow and disguised exit from the room, waiting for a reassurance, for anything, that may signify a possible escape. But all he had by way of reassurance was the feeling of his wand pressed tightly against his arm, inside his sleeve. A small consolation, but a definite improvement on the previous state of things.
With a hitch of his breath, Harry realised that Voldemort and Dumbledore had stopped talking. If 'talking' was an adequate word to describe it. All was now still and quiet in anticipation of whatever was to come next. Even the Death Eaters had stilled in their tracks.
Voldemort struck first.
"Stupify!"
For a terrifying moment, Harry felt captured under the restriction of the curse as his muscles seized, but then he realised it had not been directed at him, but toward the Weasleys – one of the twins had promptly deflected it. The fear that had rendered Harry's limbs motionless now spurred him into action as in one fluid movement he slid his wand down into his hand, whipped around, and stunned the Death Eater who had been closely flanking him.
Now that he was facing Ron and Hermione, he saw that they too had their wands returned, although this was doing little to calm them, obviously. Harry supposed Draco must have returned their wands to them when Harry received his own.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, it amazed Harry how so many thoughts and feeling could be experienced in less than a moment. Even as Voldemort was drawing his wand, Harry was terrified, to be sure, of the many enemies outnumbering them – surely even Dumbledore couldn't fight all of them; he was relieved to have his friends and Dumbledore with him; confusion regarding Draco Malfoy, and now Tony; desperate hope that he and his school associates would live through this; and the terrible heavy cold feeling that told him he didn't have a chance.
Harry was panicked, blindly sending spells out wherever he saw a hood, waiting for when it would all end for him. This wasn't how it was supposed to end, he thought.
A spell from somewhere Harry didn't see caused a Death Eater in front of him to fall backward, winding Harry and knocking his jaw. He felt his teeth clack together and a thick coppery taste pooled in the front of his mouth.
"Ron, behind you!" Harry called, spitting small flecks of blood past his cry.
Ron turned abruptly to see one of the many hooded figures descend upon him. He cried out and aimed a spell in retaliation, but Harry couldn't tell if the result that knocked out Ron's adversary was from Ron himself, or a rescue-mission from Hermione.
How long has the fight been going on, now? Harry wondered. It seemed ages – but probably was only a few seconds. Any second now…
A massive sound of an explosion sounded somewhere off to Harry's right, and the fighters were momentarily thrown into disarray. In this moment of weakness, a loud voice boomed out authoritatively, "Totus caecus excludo leo!"
What happened next took Harry completely by surprise, and he was once again amazed by Dumbledore's display of immense knowledge of magic.
He could almost see a filmy substance – like the surface of a bubble – quickly spread from Dumbledore's wand to promptly cover the room and all its inhabitants, before it became totally undetectable.
Harry blinked to clear his vision. It had been momentarily hindered before being rectified, but even now, everything in front of him was strangely surreal, blurred around the edges, and as if everyone was moving underwater.
The opposition seemed to be worse off. Harry's observations of their action and speech led him to believe they could not see at all. He saw one Death Eater was stumbling along blindly, hands outstretched as if he was walking in complete darkness, his wand uselessly held at the ready. Further inspection of the scene showed his other enemies to be acting similarly, Voldemort himself in a rage at his handicap.
Harry could see Dumbledore making his way through hoards of Death Eaters to approach the blinded Tony, but whatever punishment he was inflicting on her was obscured from Harry's vision by a wandering Death Eater. She deserves everything she gets, Harry thought bitterly.
"Harry!" called Hermione, and she drew up next to him. "What's happened?"
"I don't know!" he cried loudly, and the effect momentarily flickered – for a short while, his friend was more in focus, before being returned to the surreal state.
This fluctuation had apparently worked to the advantage of the Death Eaters too, as some of them had turned into the general direction of Dumbledore and of Harry to fire curses.
"Quickly, move!" Harry called, and he grabbed Hermione's arm as he began to run to a relatively still spot. "Can you see?!"
"Only a little!" Hermione responded, sounding a little panicked. "It's all blurry!"
"They look like they can't see anything at all!"
"But why-"
"Quickly," a voice interrupted in quiet command, and the two looked up to see Dumbledore, with the four Weasleys in tow. "Follow me."
The old man headed quietly for a small door at the far side of the room, motioning to his followers to keep quiet.
No sooner were they out of the door when boisterous activity resumed within the large room they had just left. Harry concluded they had regained their sight, since his own was now normal, which didn't leave them much time to escape. Surely it wouldn't be long before Death Eaters were inspecting every exit.
As they scurried away from the great room, down a dimly lit hall, Harry saw Dumbledore look at a contraption on his wrist, which Harry could only assume to be an unusual sort of watch. After about a minute of rounding corners and ducking into side rooms, when voices could be dimly heard and fast approaching, Dumbledore gathered Harry, Hermione and the four Weasleys around him and instructed them to hold onto him as he slipped an object into his bare hand from inside his robes.
A tug from behind Harry's navel brought him spinning away from the scene of destruction, and the outraged dark wizard.
When the life-saving transportation stopped, Harry found he had never been so pleased to see The Burrow in his life.
The first thing Harry noticed in the friendly environment of the Weasley home, was Mrs Weasley worriedly hurrying them all to sit down in the kitchen while she peppered them with anxious questions, and Mr Weasley looking serious in his seat at the table.
The second was Trina and Tony sitting alongside him.
Within moments, both he and Ron had their wands out, while Hermione was looking sufficiently shocked and suspicious.
"Sit down children, please," goaded Mrs Weasley, and she tried to heard them toward the table, but although Ginny and the twins obeyed, the trio would have none of it.
"What's she doing here?!" Ron said, accusingly.
"It seems some explaining is in order," Dumbledore said calmly as he obliged Mrs Weasley by taking a seat at the table while she bustled around the kitchen getting something to eat for them all. "I assure you, gentlemen, your wands are not necessary here."
Harry and Ron were dubious, but as Dumbledore was with them, they had no sensible reason to remain armed. After a moment's hesitation they slowly put their wands away and headed to the table to sit, but made sure they were as far away from Tony as possible.
Mrs Weasley laid plates of biscuits and slices on the table, and proceeded to lay out cups and spoons for tea. Nothing was discussed as she fetched a jug of milk, the kettle of boiled water, and bowls of sugar and teabags before settling herself at the table.
"Thankyou, Molly," Dumbledore said amicably as he reached for a biscuit. "It all looks absolutely delicious. And Harry, I meant to congratulate you on the new fashion – it quite becomes you." He pushed his own glasses up his nose as if to emphasise the fact he still dealt with the burden.
Harry could restrain himself no longer. "What's she doing here?" he heatedly repeated Ron's question.
Harry fidgeted impatiently as Dumbledore finished his mouthful of biscuit with a blissful expression on his face.
"Well now, how to start…" the old man finally mused to himself, his captive audience waiting on edge. To Harry's surprise, even Trina and Tony looked keen to hear.
Dumbledore looked at Harry and began, "You undoubtedly learned at some stage that your transferral to New Zealand was in error-"
"Yeah, Voldemort said that," Harry interrupted, and Mr and Mrs Weasley cringed at the name. "But he didn't look too upset about it."
"Undoubtedly, at the time, he was," Dumbledore surmised.
"He said he 'dealt with the one' that did it, or something," Hermione speculated.
"Quite," Dumbledore agreed.
"How does something like that happen by accident?" Mrs Weasley asked him, looking to be still quite in shock at the prospect of Ron being so far away.
"I should think it was an error in understanding," Dumbledore supplied. "It was most likely he had planned these students to be taken to a residence in England called Hastings – where he was currently staying – where they would be covered by a charm concealing their location, allowing him time to do whatever he wished. It would have been a mishap indeed when they were sent to the Hastings furthest away from him, and that his own concealment charm was protecting them from him."
"Blimey," Mr Weasley breathed.
"As you all would know," Dumbledore continued, "Voldemort is not one to sit back and moan at a failure, but to aggressively find ways to fix it. And it was with the help of their newfound companions that he managed to do it."
Wary looks were again aimed toward the two foreigners, who had the decency to look guilty – though Harry thought Tony didn't look nearly as guilty as she should.
"Be assured," Dumbledore said, "that neither of them were aware of their role. To their knowledge, they were just two ordinary muggles on a rather…unusual journey. Allow me to show you how Lord Voldemort crafted his success."
The old wizard withdrew a small flask from his robes, and laid it on the table in front of Tony. "If you would drink this, I'd be much obliged."
Tony looked as if she'd just been offered poison. "What is it?" she voiced hesitantly.
"It is a Revelare Potion," Dumbledore replied, although this information did nothing for Tony.
"I know what that is!" Ginny said enthusiastically. "Snape made us make it soon after they all left England, and I had to do a 3-foot long essay on it."
"Then what on earth is it?" Ron asked exasperatedly. "Is anyone going to actually tell us?"
Dumbledore looked at Ginny, who hurriedly replied, "It reveals the mark of a traitor. Ancient kings in wizarding history used it. They'd make all their servants drink some, and the ones who had been posted as spies or assassins were shown as traitors, while all the other servants remained normal, and just felt like they'd had a rather refreshing blueberry juice."
"An excellent explanation, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore said, and Ginny glowed at his praise.
"Y'know, I don't like blueberry juice," Tony mumbled, nervously fingering the flask. "Not that I suppose that's a concern to anybody."
"So drink it already," Ron said bitterly, and his mother looked at him reproachfully.
Tony took one last wary glance at the flask before downing its contents, and making a grotesque face as she placed the empty bottle back on the table. "If anyone's interested, after that beverage, I still don't like blueberry juice." The other people around the table continued to look at her expectantly.
"Thankyou," Dumbledore said to her. "Now if you would be so kind as to show us your arms."
Tony, beyond questioning now, shrugged off her jacket so it fell between her back and the chair, and laid her arms in front of her on the table.
A collective gasp was heard as the mark was shown on her forearm.
Harry saw it was similar to the Dark Mark, except it didn't look like a dark tattoo, but more like a shimmering whitish-gold apparition that would disappear at any moment.
"She's not been initiated as a Death Eater has she?" Mrs Weasley asked, incredulously.
Tony discreetly rolled her eyes and muttered sarcastically to Trina, "Yeah, he'd do that to a muggle. Because he's so culture tolerant."
"No, he has not done so," Dumbledore assured Molly Weasley.
"How did it work?" Arthur Weasley asked.
"This is a rather infrequently utilised spell – not even Ministry recognised," Dumbledore explained, "so, even for him, it was not so simple to trace them. I concluded that they must have stayed in Hastings for a week before moving on – that week must have been the most frustrating for Voldemort, as he would not have known for sure if the charm had worked. It was not until they left Hastings and he detected a shift that he knew the mark had been successfully placed."
"But how did he know me?" Tony asked. "I assume he doesn't memorise family lines of far-off muggles."
"He had no way of knowing you by name or face," agreed Dumbledore, "but nor did he need to. The mark was placed specifically on the host Harry interacted with on his arrival to Hastings. Which, naturally, turned out to be you."
"Yeah, we were staying at your place the night they showed up," Trina reminded Tony.
"Lucky me," Tony replied glumly.
"But how did you know, Professor?" inquired Ginny. "When we met you in the café you said that Trina was the reason you knew where Harry was."
"Indeed," said Dumbledore to the many inquisitive looks that had been sharply directed to him at this. "I had ventured a guess – anticipated, if you will – that Voldemort would use this means of tracing them, so I performed a similar charm. Obviously, I could not charm the same person without bringing risk of exposure to Voldemort of what I was doing, so I chanced the fact that his marked host would be with another – which, fortunately, she was."
"Whoa," said Trina, trying to comprehend. "So…I have a… a thing…mark…thing?"
"Not a visible one," Dumbledore smiled at her. And as you were not – unwittingly or otherwise – working against Harry, Hermione and Ron here, nothing would be displayed from the ingestion of the Revelare potion."
"Is there any other way to know?" Fred asked, and Harry presumed that he and his twin would doubtlessly be speculating what new spells and jokes they could make with the use of this new information.
"I boast a little when I say that my own mark is less conspicuous than that of Voldemort," Dumbledore said proudly. "Did you not see any signs of a mark – of discomfort, on Tony for the duration of your travels? Admittedly, it is likely they may have been subtle, since you had not suspected her of anything."
"Uh…" said Ron dumbly, as he tried to think of something.
Hermione had been lost in thought, before volunteering, "Tony, remember when you were taking ages to come back from that fountain you liked in Napier? I recall it vividly because we were all getting rather annoyed at you taking so long-"
"Why, thankyou," Tony interjected sarcastically.
"-but before you came back to the car, you ran water over the forearm that was marked, as if trying to cool it down."
"And you would occasionally rub or scratch your arm too," Trina said, "as if there was something irritating it, or tickling it."
Tony looked slightly frustrated as she said disbelievingly across the table, "And how is it that you notice and remember all this, but fail to pick up on the larger-than-life hints that would have told you I wasn't the bad guy?! When Voldemort showed me to you, you didn't stop to think reasonably, did you?!"
"He did have a convincing argument," Hermione said guiltily, by way of explanation, "considering Draco was too young to have been initiated, so have a mark that would do it."
"Oh, of course," Tony replied, in mock apology. "And naturally, his word is worth a lot."
"We're sorry!" Hermione said desperately, as if it would help.
"What about Trina's mark thingee?" Tony said. "What signs did she get?"
"Well…I don't know," said Hermione.
"Right," said Tony conclusively. "Bet you'd remember more if you thought she was the baddie. The closest you could probably get was the bird flying so close to her at Rainbow's End. If that had anything to do with it."
"Now, everyone," Mrs Weasley said in an effort to draw a close to the argument and tension regarding the marks. "Help yourselves to a biscuit."
"Wow, I'm trusted not to relay the secret biscuit recipe to Voldemort just because I have a bitter traitor's spirit…" Tony said scathingly.
Mrs Weasley looked sorely tempted to say something of discipline to Tony, but considering present company and the fact she didn't know her, she refrained.
"So what else happened?" Mr Weasley was intensely interested the Gryffindor three's time with the muggles.
"We stayed in a motel for a bit," Hermione supplied. "Then in was pretty much non-stop up to Auckland – that was the last place we were at before we came back over here. We came back just when Harry and Draco were going down Fear Fall-"
"What on earth is that?!" Mrs Weasley asked, alarmed. "That doesn't sound safe."
"It was fine, Mum – just a ride at a park," Ron appeased her.
"And you all just disappeared partway through this ride?"
"Well…yeah. Come to think of it, I guess it would have caused a disturbance when two people high in the air just disappeared, and people on the ground, too."
"I don't reckon you'll have anything worry about," Tony said, apathetically. "They'll do what muggles have always done throughout history. They'll search for bodies and scientific explanations, and when they don't find any, they'll put it down to aliens. Easy."
"We didn't actually all go back at the same time," Trina said. "I mean, you three and Draco did-"
"Probably a reversal charm," interjected Hermione.
"-but we were taken over separately. I must have been first, because I didn't see Tony go. When I found myself with Dumbledore and Tony didn't show up, I presumed she was still in New Zealand. So I'm just finding stuff out now, too."
"And anyway," said Ron, "then we ended up in a castle, where we came up against Voldemort-"
Molly Weasley gasped loudly at the thought.
"-but Dumbledore came, and got us all out, and now we're here."
"Indeed," Dumbledore, who had been largely quiet, agreed. "And I'm thoroughly relieved I was able to do so."
"What exactly happened in there?" Harry asked. "I mean, the fighting hadn't gone on long before there was a massive bang, and you cast some sort of spell."
"The bang was us," George said proudly. "Popping Fizzy-Pebbles. We've used them before as a distraction."
"Distraction for what, exactly?" prompted Hermione. "What was the spell?"
"Ah, yes, I was rather proud of it," Dumbledore said, smiling triumphantly. "Although it was rather difficult, and it had been a long time since I've used it."
"Is that why it flickered a bit?"
"Well, perhaps, but it is a difficult spell to maintain, for anybody."
"So why could some of us see – although not very well, and some people not at all?" Ron asked.
"The words," Hermione said, half to herself. "What were they? Totalus…?"
"Totus caecus excludo leo," Dumbledore supplied amicably, interested to hear her dissection of the phrase.
"Caucus has something to do with blindness, I'm sure…" Hermione mused. "I remember reading about it."
"Oh, really?" George said, feigning surprise. "We never saw that coming!"
Hermione ignored him as she continued, "Totus caecus…total blindness…or blindness to all…" Harry and Ron looked at each other in resignation as their friend continued to display the habit of showing academic brilliance. "…excludo leo… to exclude-"
"Excluding lions?" Ron said, quizzically.
"Of course," Hermione said, in an explanation to say she'd figured it out. "Leo! Lion! That's the symbol of Gryffindors! Everyone was struck with blindness, excluding the Gryffindors!"
Dumbledore looked down at her through his half-moon glasses, as he congratulated her, "Yes, once again, Miss Granger, you display remarkable promise."
Hermione glowed.
"Lucky no past Gryffindors became Death Eaters," Ron said. "Not that they would."
"Death Eaters aren't all Slytherins, Ron," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, I know that, but Gryffindors have a bit more pride and sense than the rest."
Mrs Weasley looked unsure of what to say in censure to her son, but she needn't have worried at all, as Dumbledore said, "Your house loyalty is admirable, young Mr Weasley, but I'm sure there would have been Gryffindors among their number. Even the bravest man is lured by power – sometimes even more so than others. We were merely fortunate there were minimal members of that house in our adversaries."
Ron scowled a little at being corrected, and bit down stubbornly into a biscuit.
"So, girls," Mr Weasley said to Trina and Tony after a pregnant pause by all at the table, "tell me about this Michael Jackson who dances a walk on the moon…"
"Where's Malfoy now?" Ron was saying as he clambered along his bed to sit at the end, and Harry sat across from him on the spare. Hermione sat in silence on a chair in the corner. "Dumbledore didn't say anything about him."
Harry mused on the fact that Dumbledore did indeed have a very irritating habit of leaving out the facts of most interest.
"Surely he's not on our side," Ron continued. "I mean, he may not be totally evil – as much as I never want to hear myself admit that ever again – but, he's Malfoy! He doesn't just join the side of the light, and fight for goodness, and peace, and…and puppies… Harry?"
Harry's glazed eyes snapped to attention and he looked at his friend. "I don't know what the story is with Malfoy. It all got so confusing ever since we came back here. Well, ever since we left, really."
"He's not our friend, though," Ron stated, and although Harry noted this was bordering on an insult and may not have been deserved, he was still inclined to agree.
"I wonder where he is?" Harry said quietly, almost to himself.
"Probably ensuring his reputation in Voldemort's circle hasn't been tarnished, and his Death Eater initiation's still scheduled."
"Your faith overwhelms," came a voice from the door, and the two boys looked up to see Draco Malfoy framed in the doorway, his face neutrally lacking expression. "Remind me to choose a better investment, should I ever decide to make Gryffindor friends."
"Malfoy-" Harry started in apology, before Draco interrupted him.
"Anyway, you're to come back downstairs. Dumbledore and the others are finished talking." Draco turned to walk back down the stairs to the dining room, and the other two boys hurriedly made to follow him.
" 'The others' including you, right?" Harry began. "So, what were you talking about?"
Draco didn't reply, but continued down the stairs, and made his way over to sit at the table.
Harry saw that Mr Weasley, Trina, and Tony were no longer there, and the other three Weasley children came in from the garden to sit at the table. "Where'd the others go?"
"I didn't see it as necessary that the two girls needed to stay. After all, our discussions would probably bore them," said Dumbledore.
Harry doubted it. Dumbledore just had a frustrating history of only talking to people that needed to know something.
"They are, as I speak, settling into a very comfortable lodging just outside of London," the old wizard continued as his audience sat. "I've been there myself. Lovely cinnamon rolls."
Harry and Ron only looked at each other. Even after all these years, Dumbledore's oddities never failed to astound.
"This is likely to be news to you three recent arrivals – as young Mr Malfoy now knows too – but I am unable to escort you back into Hogwarts."
Hermione looked up in shocked surprise. "What do you mean?!"
"Since your departure from us," Dumbledore continued to inform them, "the school has been put under Ministry organization, making me no longer headmaster."
"You've been fired?" Ron screeched.
"It is an unfortunate state of things, but I have every confidence that it will soon be rectified…if you would be so kind as to help."
"What?" Harry said enthusiastically. "Anything!"
"I have spoken to Draco regarding the plan of action. He can fill you in on the way."
"On the way?" Hermione asked. "We're going now? So…we're just going to walk in?"
"Not on your own, naturally," Dumbledore said. "And certainly not in so bold a way as you imply."
"Then who-?"
Harry realised just who, even before the notorious greasy voice came from the direction of the fireplace.
A/N: I'm on the way to getting this thing wound up. At this stage, I anticipate just one chapter to go – unless the drama gets away with me and it goes on for a bit longer.
Thanks again to all those who email me to say how much they like the story and encourage me to keep going – those messages are reassuring to get, and usually result in my keenness to post new chapters faster.