Harry burst into a run. He pelted towards Sirius with tears already beginning to gather in his eyes, his arms held wide, and his heart stopped in his chest.

Sirius grabbed Harry as soon as he could. He hugged him, hard, then swung him round.

"You seem to have grown already, Harry!" he said. "I can hardly do that now…"

Hermione and Ron were close behind Harry, clutching their hands to the stitches in their sides. Hermione's eyes suddenly widened.

"Harry!" she yelled sharply. "Don't let go!"

Harry turned his head, a huge grin on his face. He was still clutching his Godfather as if he could not believe he was real.

"I mean it, Harry!" Hermione called again. "Hold on!"

Harry opened his mouth to ask her what on earth she was talking about, when Sirius began to change in his arms. Before Harry's appalled gaze, Sirius turned into a voluptuous woman. Her lips pouted and her breasts pressed against him.

"Hello, Harry," she murmured seductively. Harry was about to raise his arms in horror and drop whatever thing it was he had in his arms, but Hermione's words finally registered.

"Do not let go!"

Harry clung on to the woman's shoulders. She smiled lusciously; it turned into a leer, and when she opened her mouth, it was to bare a neat array of bloodstained fangs. Harry made a revolted noise; but still, he held on.

A hiss of rage escaped the thing. It became, in swift succession, a spiny creature, which caused blood to spout from Harry's hands and arms; a dreadful slimy thing which smelt of putrefaction and worse; a butterfly, which only Harry's Seeker skills enabled him to catch and hold on to; and a rock so heavy that both it and Harry crashed to the earth. Harry narrowly avoided being squashed.

A low, churning noise of rage came from somewhere. Suddenly Harry found himself holding a fire-breathing wyvern; he narrowly dodged its fiery breath in his face, and cursed because he could not both use his wand and hang on to the thing.

But Hermione was there: jets of water streamed from the tip of her wand and extinguished its flames. It transformed into a ball of fire, too intense for any water to extinguish, and Harry screamed in pain from holding on to it. Hermione's wand was out again, and Harry found himself, disconcertingly, shaped into an icebucket. The flame changed again; Harry found himself back in his own shape, wielding an ice-axe; this was then a circular saw, which began to whir in Harry's hands; Harry became a stone wheel which locked the saw in place. With a distant screech of annoyance, the saw became a shadow; and Hermione turned Harry into a box.

"All right, all right," a voice said irritably. "Fine. You can let me out now."

Hermione waved her wand. Harry found himself face to face with a short individual who looked rather like what Muggles would call a gnome. (There were, of course, real gnomes in the magical world; and they looked nothing like Muggles thought they did.)

"Hmph. No need to grip a fellow so hard," he said huffily, straightening his clothes.

"Who are you?" Harry demanded. Now that the adrenalin rush of the battle had begun to fade, the most enormous wave of disappointment was beginning to break over him.

"I am the Keeper," the short, fat man said with dignity. "The Watcher. The Warden. The Protec-"

"All right, all right I get the idea." Harry glared at him. "I thought you were my Godfather. Where is he?"

The Keeper gave him an enigmatic look. "He is in the Palace of Bones, of course."

"Fine. Let's be going then, shall we?" Harry said to Ron and Hermione.

"Not so fast, young gentlemen. Not so fast. You have won the right to hear the entrance fee. This means you will not get summarily executed at the door for failing to tender the correct payment." He beamed.

"Entrance fee?"

"Yes, of course. Nothing for nothing round here, my good friend. Oh no. We are the ultimate free market…which means of course that nothing is free at all…"

"Get on with it." Harry folded his arms.

"Hasty, young gentlemen, that's what you are. Hasty. Now then. Now let me see…. Ah yes. Entrance and visiting rights to the Palace of Bones. I take it you will only be requiring entrance for one?"

"What is the entrance price for three?"

"Five pints of human blood," the creature said promptly. "Spilled in the traditional way, with a sacred silver axe. But you needn't worry about that bit. We are very happy to provide the axe."

"OK, let's hear the entrance fee for one then."

"A spoonful of grain," the gnome-like being recited. "A hank of raw wool. And a handful of salt."

"Well," Harry said slowly. "That doesn't sound too bad. And if I bring these to you, to the Palace gates, I get let in?"

"Yes."

"I get to see Sirius?"

"Yes."

"Nobody will harm me while I am in there?"

"No."

"And I get to come out again?"

"In this timeframe?" Hermione interjected.

"Yes, yes, yes. What do you think we are trying to do? Trick you or something?"

Harry snorted, and began to turn. "Oh – one last thing.

"What now?"

"Is there an expiry date on this deal? I mean, if I come back in three hours with all the stuff, will you say the fee has since changed and chop my head off?"

"No," the creature huffed. "This is our standing offer."

"Right. Come on, then, Hermione and Ron. Let's go and figure this one out…"

Harry's energy levels were rising again at the prospect of really, actually seeing Sirius. Ron, however, noticed the look on Hermione's face.

"Hermione…" he said hesitantly. "What is it? This doesn't sound too bad, does it? I mean, they're fairly common things to get hold of."

Hermione paused. "Harry. Oh – Harry, I don't want to disappoint you! But, these things…where are we going to get them from?"

"Well, they're all around us, aren't they? Raw wool, right over there, that looks like sheep don't you think, up on that hillside? Grain, I can see some sort of crop from here. Salt, I dunno, but it isn't exactly rare, is it - "

"But Harry," Hermione wailed. "Don't you remember what the woman – man – whatever – said to us at the sea shore? 'Remember, everything has a price. Everything. You may only use what is truly your own, and what you take but do not pay for, you will forfeit in the sacrifice of your living flesh'."

Harry set his chin. "Well, we'll give the sheep a handful of grass in payment or something."

"Which is also not ours to give," Hermione pointed out.

"So what are you suggesting, Hermione?" Harry yelled out, whirling round on her. "That we just give up, after coming this far?

"No," Hermione began patiently, "but…"

Ron interrupted them. "Er, Harry, Hermione – I think we have other things to worry about right now as well."

They broke off, and turned in the direction towards which Ron was gesturing. Snape was standing there. He looked very tall, very grim, and a sneer was twitching around his mouth.

"Good evening, Potter," he drawled. "I think it is about time we put an end to this little comedy of yours…."