Harry would probably have been disappointed in the Room of Requirement. When Snape stood opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, and thought hard about his need to find the potion Potter and his friends had been brewing, the Room obligingly presented him with the door to gain entrance.
Snape stalked inside and poked the silvery liquid in the cauldron with his wand. Despite himself, he was impressed. Obviously Hermione had had the sense not to let Potter or Weasley anywhere near her labours: this was as well-brewed a potion as he had ever seen. And, as he had hoped, she had prudently made more than she needed in case of accidents.
There was enough, he calculated. He took out his own potions bottle, and poured what remained of the Essence of Mag Mell inside. He added this to the small cache of materials in the pockets of his voluminous robes.
He was ready. He swept back out into the night. He settled himself by the side of the lake and waited for the moon to emerge, once more full and bright, from behind the obscuring clouds. Had anyone observed him, they would have been put in mind of a large, roosting bat.
"Well, that helped!" said Harry sardonically. "We now need to find the Three Seers, whatever they may be, in a direction we don't know – except, oh, there aren't any directions here anyway!"
"She said something," Hermione said, her eyes glazed with thought. "She said without her help we would walk these shores forever. Something she said is the clue…."
Ron and Harry raised their eyebrows.
"No directions," Hermione muttered. "No directions…OK… got it, I think!… If there are no directions, there isn't any path we can follow… that must mean it isn't which way we go that matters, it's the place we are going to. Right, come on, then."
She looked round in surprise. Harry and Ron remained still, staring at her in bemusement as she began to set off across the beach.
"Come on," she repeated. "Think about the Three Seers. That's how you get from one place to another here….I think," she added, a little less certainly.
To Harry and Ron's amazement, as they walked the shoreline began to change. It was like walking through a tunnel of moving images. The wet, grey sand shifted into stringy grass. The sea became a rolling plain. And the steely light softened into a sunlit morning.
"This is more like it," said Ron, cheering up.
They strolled for sometime across the grassy landscape. Their clothes began to steam as they dried off in the warmth of the sun. A few trees broke the skyline, but there was little enough to see. There was also no hint of any danger. They began to relax a little.
After a time, they saw ahead of them a small cottage nestled in a copse of trees. As they crept closer, they saw three old women were sitting outside, working at looms. Cautiously, they moved towards them.
"Shuttle and spin, shuttle and spin," one of them was warbling.
"Bobbin and pin, bobbin and pin," crooned another.
"Sisters!" The third interrupted sharply. "There are strangers close by, I hear them…"
"The eye, the eye, who has the eye…."
"I do!"
The one who had spoken last swung about. Her face was ancient, and framed with strings of grey-white hair. She did not have eye sockets in the normal way, but one great eye in the middle of her forehead. It reminded Harry forcibly of Mad-Eye's magical eye. "Ugh, creepy!" exclaimed Ron softly. As the other two old women also turned to face them, they saw that the sockets in the middle of their foreheads gaped blind and empty.
"What is it, sister? Who disturbs our weaving?"
"What have we here, what have we here…Children, my sisters. Mortal children.…."
"Mortal children? Do they have eyes, my sister?"
"Are they a gift? Do they bring us their eyes?"
"Who has sent them to us?"
Harry steeled himself and took a few steps forward. "No-one has sent us to you! At least…the lady by the shore suggested we come...but – we need your help!"
"The lady by the shore…………ahhhhhh." The crone who spoke let out a long sigh as if savouring the thought. "She sent you, did she? The lady by the shore…"
"Our help, you say? You want our help?"
"Yes," Harry drove on. "I need to know where my Godfather is, Sirius Black. Can you help?"
"Can we help, can we help?"
"He asks if he we can help."
The three old women cackled together as if Harry had cracked a particularly amusing joke.
"Of course we can help," the one with the eye said. "The question is, why should we?"
"We offer you a trade," put in another.
"The girl."
"It would be good to have a girl. We would have three eyes then…."
"And we will tell you how to find your Godfather."
The three of them nodded in the sunlight, smiling gently.
"No way!" Harry said angrily. "Isn't there anything else we can do? Chop wood or something….Fetch water…"
"Let me look at the girl, sister. Pass me the eye." The old woman with the eye popped it out of her head and passed it to the woman who had spoken. She slid it into her own eye socket. "Oh yes. Oh yes. Nice…."
Hermione was beginning to feel distinctly nervous. At the same time, she knew she had heard of these three crones before. She dug in the corners of her memory; then turned to Ron, who was standing beside her, and whispered frantically in his ear. Ron stared at her for a long moment, and then took off at a run towards the old women. Harry watched him in alarm. "What..?"
"Here!" Ron yelled, darting behind the blind woman farthest away from the one with the eye. "Here, I'm here…see what I'm doing…"
"The eye!" shrieked the woman, stretching out her hand to take it from her sister and turning on Ron in fury. He wriggled out from her grasp and darted in the opposite direction to harass the woman who had had the eye before.
"Pass it back!" the crone howled.
As one sister passed the eye to another, Hermione pulled out her wand.
"ACCIO EYE" she yelled.
In the moment of the eye exchanging hands, it shot out of the sisters' grasp and zoomed towards Harry and Hermione.
Just a snitch, Harry thought. Just a large, slippery snitch…He stretched out his hand and grabbed the eye. It felt peculiar, like an overgrown oyster. Disturbingly, it continued to glare at him as he held it.
The old women broke into loud wails.
"Again!"
"Tricked! Again!"
"BE QUIET!" yelled Harry, deciding this was the only way to cut in on their yowling. "I've got your eye, right? I'm not hurting it, I'm not going to do anything to do it… Just tell me where I can find Sirius and I'll give you it back."
"Tricked," wept the women. "Oh our eye, our eye, our eye…" Finally one of them said bitterly: "Clever children, to trick poor old women. Brave children, to cheat old crones. Your Godfather is in the Palace of Bones. Now our eye…give us our eye…."
"Promise," said Harry firmly," that if I give you this back, you will not harm us, and you will let us go."
"We won't harm you," the woman said. A malicious tone was in her voice which made Hermione look thoughtful. Now give us our eye."
Very gingerly, Harry walked up to them and dropped the still glowering eye into one of their outstretched hands. He backed away fast, then turned, and ran as quickly as he could to rejoin Ron and Hermione. Together, they sprinted away from the cottage and its inhabitants until they could run no longer. Behind them, a horn sounded.
"Right," said Ron with forced cheer. "Got through that one all right, then, eh? So now we're heading for this… Palace of Bones…That sounds like fun."
"Yes," muttered Harry. "I dunno…something is wrong."
The cry of a horn reverberated once more: louder.
There seemed to be more trees than there had been before. And surely it was darker? The grasslands seemed to be vanishing beneath the march of forest. The horn rang out yet again.
Now, they could hear the baying of hounds, deep-throated and savage.
"Ohhhh noo," moaned Hermione. "Nooo…"
"What?" Ron and Harry demanded together, gazing wildly around as the trees closed in.
"I think," Hermione said faintly, "I think the old women have called out the Wild Hunt…."
Above the canopy of trees, across the darkening sky, nine figures rode. Antlers reared on their leader's head. Before and behind them swarmed a pack of giant hounds, whose coats gleamed white, but whose ears burned furnace red.
"We hunt!" an exultant voice roared out. "Ride, ride, ride to the hunt!"
The horn sounded again: this time with the all the thrill and urgency of a kill at hand.
Snape stalked inside and poked the silvery liquid in the cauldron with his wand. Despite himself, he was impressed. Obviously Hermione had had the sense not to let Potter or Weasley anywhere near her labours: this was as well-brewed a potion as he had ever seen. And, as he had hoped, she had prudently made more than she needed in case of accidents.
There was enough, he calculated. He took out his own potions bottle, and poured what remained of the Essence of Mag Mell inside. He added this to the small cache of materials in the pockets of his voluminous robes.
He was ready. He swept back out into the night. He settled himself by the side of the lake and waited for the moon to emerge, once more full and bright, from behind the obscuring clouds. Had anyone observed him, they would have been put in mind of a large, roosting bat.
"Well, that helped!" said Harry sardonically. "We now need to find the Three Seers, whatever they may be, in a direction we don't know – except, oh, there aren't any directions here anyway!"
"She said something," Hermione said, her eyes glazed with thought. "She said without her help we would walk these shores forever. Something she said is the clue…."
Ron and Harry raised their eyebrows.
"No directions," Hermione muttered. "No directions…OK… got it, I think!… If there are no directions, there isn't any path we can follow… that must mean it isn't which way we go that matters, it's the place we are going to. Right, come on, then."
She looked round in surprise. Harry and Ron remained still, staring at her in bemusement as she began to set off across the beach.
"Come on," she repeated. "Think about the Three Seers. That's how you get from one place to another here….I think," she added, a little less certainly.
To Harry and Ron's amazement, as they walked the shoreline began to change. It was like walking through a tunnel of moving images. The wet, grey sand shifted into stringy grass. The sea became a rolling plain. And the steely light softened into a sunlit morning.
"This is more like it," said Ron, cheering up.
They strolled for sometime across the grassy landscape. Their clothes began to steam as they dried off in the warmth of the sun. A few trees broke the skyline, but there was little enough to see. There was also no hint of any danger. They began to relax a little.
After a time, they saw ahead of them a small cottage nestled in a copse of trees. As they crept closer, they saw three old women were sitting outside, working at looms. Cautiously, they moved towards them.
"Shuttle and spin, shuttle and spin," one of them was warbling.
"Bobbin and pin, bobbin and pin," crooned another.
"Sisters!" The third interrupted sharply. "There are strangers close by, I hear them…"
"The eye, the eye, who has the eye…."
"I do!"
The one who had spoken last swung about. Her face was ancient, and framed with strings of grey-white hair. She did not have eye sockets in the normal way, but one great eye in the middle of her forehead. It reminded Harry forcibly of Mad-Eye's magical eye. "Ugh, creepy!" exclaimed Ron softly. As the other two old women also turned to face them, they saw that the sockets in the middle of their foreheads gaped blind and empty.
"What is it, sister? Who disturbs our weaving?"
"What have we here, what have we here…Children, my sisters. Mortal children.…."
"Mortal children? Do they have eyes, my sister?"
"Are they a gift? Do they bring us their eyes?"
"Who has sent them to us?"
Harry steeled himself and took a few steps forward. "No-one has sent us to you! At least…the lady by the shore suggested we come...but – we need your help!"
"The lady by the shore…………ahhhhhh." The crone who spoke let out a long sigh as if savouring the thought. "She sent you, did she? The lady by the shore…"
"Our help, you say? You want our help?"
"Yes," Harry drove on. "I need to know where my Godfather is, Sirius Black. Can you help?"
"Can we help, can we help?"
"He asks if he we can help."
The three old women cackled together as if Harry had cracked a particularly amusing joke.
"Of course we can help," the one with the eye said. "The question is, why should we?"
"We offer you a trade," put in another.
"The girl."
"It would be good to have a girl. We would have three eyes then…."
"And we will tell you how to find your Godfather."
The three of them nodded in the sunlight, smiling gently.
"No way!" Harry said angrily. "Isn't there anything else we can do? Chop wood or something….Fetch water…"
"Let me look at the girl, sister. Pass me the eye." The old woman with the eye popped it out of her head and passed it to the woman who had spoken. She slid it into her own eye socket. "Oh yes. Oh yes. Nice…."
Hermione was beginning to feel distinctly nervous. At the same time, she knew she had heard of these three crones before. She dug in the corners of her memory; then turned to Ron, who was standing beside her, and whispered frantically in his ear. Ron stared at her for a long moment, and then took off at a run towards the old women. Harry watched him in alarm. "What..?"
"Here!" Ron yelled, darting behind the blind woman farthest away from the one with the eye. "Here, I'm here…see what I'm doing…"
"The eye!" shrieked the woman, stretching out her hand to take it from her sister and turning on Ron in fury. He wriggled out from her grasp and darted in the opposite direction to harass the woman who had had the eye before.
"Pass it back!" the crone howled.
As one sister passed the eye to another, Hermione pulled out her wand.
"ACCIO EYE" she yelled.
In the moment of the eye exchanging hands, it shot out of the sisters' grasp and zoomed towards Harry and Hermione.
Just a snitch, Harry thought. Just a large, slippery snitch…He stretched out his hand and grabbed the eye. It felt peculiar, like an overgrown oyster. Disturbingly, it continued to glare at him as he held it.
The old women broke into loud wails.
"Again!"
"Tricked! Again!"
"BE QUIET!" yelled Harry, deciding this was the only way to cut in on their yowling. "I've got your eye, right? I'm not hurting it, I'm not going to do anything to do it… Just tell me where I can find Sirius and I'll give you it back."
"Tricked," wept the women. "Oh our eye, our eye, our eye…" Finally one of them said bitterly: "Clever children, to trick poor old women. Brave children, to cheat old crones. Your Godfather is in the Palace of Bones. Now our eye…give us our eye…."
"Promise," said Harry firmly," that if I give you this back, you will not harm us, and you will let us go."
"We won't harm you," the woman said. A malicious tone was in her voice which made Hermione look thoughtful. Now give us our eye."
Very gingerly, Harry walked up to them and dropped the still glowering eye into one of their outstretched hands. He backed away fast, then turned, and ran as quickly as he could to rejoin Ron and Hermione. Together, they sprinted away from the cottage and its inhabitants until they could run no longer. Behind them, a horn sounded.
"Right," said Ron with forced cheer. "Got through that one all right, then, eh? So now we're heading for this… Palace of Bones…That sounds like fun."
"Yes," muttered Harry. "I dunno…something is wrong."
The cry of a horn reverberated once more: louder.
There seemed to be more trees than there had been before. And surely it was darker? The grasslands seemed to be vanishing beneath the march of forest. The horn rang out yet again.
Now, they could hear the baying of hounds, deep-throated and savage.
"Ohhhh noo," moaned Hermione. "Nooo…"
"What?" Ron and Harry demanded together, gazing wildly around as the trees closed in.
"I think," Hermione said faintly, "I think the old women have called out the Wild Hunt…."
Above the canopy of trees, across the darkening sky, nine figures rode. Antlers reared on their leader's head. Before and behind them swarmed a pack of giant hounds, whose coats gleamed white, but whose ears burned furnace red.
"We hunt!" an exultant voice roared out. "Ride, ride, ride to the hunt!"
The horn sounded again: this time with the all the thrill and urgency of a kill at hand.