/
Chapter nineteen
Aftermath
/
When Harry and Angela appeared hand in hand in a dark recess near Grimmauld Place 12, several wizards rushed to them with shouts and their wands fully lit.
"Finally!" exclaimed Bill Weasley. He had already intended to go back for them a while ago, but his mother, who had returned from the St Mungo´s hospital with Hermione and Ron once they heard what the three of them had been up to, would not let him. "Where have you been so long?"
"Are you okay?" pale Hermione followed up worriedly, before they could even answer, studying their faces closely.
Standing behind his girlfriend, Ron had an unusually bluish colour in his face and said nothing. Molly Weasley lunged at Harry as well.
"Harry, darling! I was so afraid! How could Dumbledore let you do that?" she hugged him so tightly that it reminded Harry of Hagrid.
Nevertheless, he still felt Angela's terrifyingly icy hand, which he was not intending to let go of under any circumstances. He saw the tall figure of Dumbledore behind Mrs Weasley's red hair. Right next to him stood – apparently very tired – Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Come on, let Harry go, Molly," the professor said softly, his voice immensely relieved. "You will suffocate him otherwise."
Mrs Weasley finally pulled away unwillingly.
"Sure, you need to rest, then you'll tell us everything," she muttered, happy that everyone had survived that crazy venture.
Harry pulled Angela closer to him, somewhat afraid she would try to run away. As they made their way out to the street in a close huddle and then toward the house, he kept studying her profile. She was staring blankly down, her expression motionless. He did not know what to say to comfort her, so he kept quiet and just held her hand tightly.
Angela felt like choking on her own emotions. She did not even notice the stabbing pain in her ankle, how terrible she felt. She clenched her teeth to keep herself from screaming aloud in despair.
Just what have I done? I… I killed my own mother. My mum… her mind imprisoned itself in a terrifying circle of thoughts from which she could not escape. It was not supposed to end up like this, not like this...
Feeling no strength, she just wanted to collapse on the ground and cry. Yet, she did not make a sound and blindly let Harry lead her to the house of her also dead father.
Once they were all in the brightly lit hall, Harry turned to Dumbledore.
"Where's Remus?" he asked urgently.
"Upstairs, in his room. There wouldn't be space for him in the hospital anyway," replied the headmaster. "Poppy is taking care of him," he added encouragingly just as Madam Pomfrey hurried down the stairs with a piece of parchment in hand.
"I need someone to go to the infirmary at Hogwarts," the matron blurted out as she registered the small crowd of people in the hall. "And bring me everything on this list," she waved the parchment.
"I can do it," Bill Weasley responded immediately.
"No way!" his mother bristled. "You need to heal and rest!"
"Ron and I will go," Hermione said, nudging his boyfriend inconspicuously.
"Yeah, sure," Ron nodded actively.
"Can you recognize all of this?" Madam Pomfrey asked a little hesitantly, handing Hermione the list.
The dishevelled Gryffindor just glanced at it. "Yes," she nodded firmly then. "We'll be right back."
She smiled encouragingly at Harry, Ron patted him on the shoulder and they both headed into the kitchen to the fireplace.
"How is he?" Angela asked in a strange voice, finally looking up from the floor to look at Madam Pomfrey.
The matron put her hands on her hips with a frown: "He almost threw himself up out of any healthy shape," she retorted.
"Well, that's because I gave him..." the young witch began quietly.
"Oh, so you gave him some potion? And what exactly was that, for Merlin's beard?" snapped Madame, not letting her finish. "If I didn't manage to ease it up at least a little bit, he would have completely collapsed."
"I'm… I… if I…" Angela was at loss for words. That was so unusual for her it made Harry reply instead, standing up for her.
"If Angela hadn't given him that potion, none of us would get out of there," he stated calmly, but with strong emphasis.
"Hmm, all right. It could be even worse than this," the matron conceded, but she still frowned disapprovingly.
"How is he doing, Poppy?" asked the Hogwarts headmaster.
"He´s completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. He has two broken ribs and a concussion. Apparently, they also used the Cruciatus Curse on him a few times and Merlin knows what else…" she shook her head unhappily.
"But will he be all right?" Harry urged on her.
Madame nodded hesitantly: "Yes, I dare to say he will probably recover completely."
"Thank you, Poppy," Dumbledore said with a small smile.
"Well, you look fine, Mr Potter, but once Mr Lupin's condition stabilizes, I'll take care of you two," the matron pointed at Angela and Bill, who was rubbing his forehead. "Especially about you, young lady," Madam Pomfrey added looking at the Slytherin student´s ankle. "Don't move too much yet, understand?" then the nurse disappeared up the stairs again.
"Molly? Could you make us some hot chocolate, please?" Dumbledore asked kindly. "I think we all need some encouragement."
Ten minutes later everyone, which included Molly Weasley and her son Bill, Harry, Angela, Dumbledore, and also Ron with Hermione, who had already returned from Hogwarts, were all sitting around the kitchen table. Kingsley Shacklebolt ran off again to arrange something.
Mr Weasley informed them through the fireplace a moment ago that the situation at the hospital was getting worse. Those children who fell unconscious did not recover from it. Six of them had already passed away…
Dumbledore was looking from Bill to Harry and Angela wordlessly.
"So, what happened there, Harry?" Ron could not help his curiosity anymore. Hermione stomped on his feet under the table and he hissed in pain. "What was that for?" he asked offended.
"Can´t you see they don't want to talk about it?" Hermione hissed as quietly as she could but the three of them could still hear it.
Bill, who actually would not mind, looked at Harry questioningly. Harry, who was still clutching Angela's hand under the table, returned his gaze and nodded his head.
"You first, Bill," he incited him.
Bill Weasley then proceeded to acquaint their curious friends and family with everything that had happened since they had left the house. Meanwhile, Madam Pomfrey also came in, poured some strange looking potion into Bill, carefully examined Angela's ankle and ran off again to get something.
Harry filled in for Bill here and there and for a while, he even replaced him in the narration, which was the part where the dialogue between them and the Death Eaters took place. Angela remained silent the whole time. Everyone listened to them breathlessly until Bill apparated with Lupin to a familiar recess and Harry and Angela remained in the Castle.
Harry tried to read his girlfriend´s face, wondering what exactly he should say to them, but Angela still looked absent-minded.
"Well… Then, I went back to get Angela and we were delayed by a Death Eater, who came through into that corridor with spikes before we could lock the door again. Those walls had stopped by now. We dealt with that woman and escaped to the Apparition room before more of them burst in there. We apparated away at the last second," Harry finally summarized the rest of events and he was not even lying. He just did not tell the whole truth. Yet even now, he did not get any reaction from Angela.
/
"You incompetent idiots! Which Muggle mothers gave birth to you? How could three miserable wizards overpower you? In my own castle! How did they even get here? How come that they freed that ten-time cursed werewolf? How can you call yourselves Death Eaters?!"
Lord Voldemort was usually in complete control of his emotions, to the point where it sometimes seemed like he had none, but this time he was proving the opposite to his followers. Nothing could stop the destructive power of his rage. His red eyes glowed with anger as he blindly shot not so pleasant curses around him. All the Death Eaters were on their knees before him and most of them were trembling in fear. Only those who had returned to the Castle with him a moment ago were standing calmly. Severus Snape was among them.
"I should kill you all! What kind of wizards are you? How can you tell me that you had an upper hand with numbers and they still ran away! Even through my own Apparition room!"
The Dark Lord rushed to one of the Death Eaters and picked him up with his wand.
"Who? Who was it!?"
"One of the Weasleys, my lord," wheezed Nott. "And…"
"And? And!? Who else?"
"Harry Potter, Master," Malfoy Sr. answered instead of breathless Nott, with his head lowered.
Nott fell back to the floor. Voldemort hissed something incomprehensible and very rude.
"I could have expected that! That cursed Potter! He's getting in my way again! Again and again! When I get my hands on that brat, he'll regret ever being born!" he raged, his eyes flashing. "But how did they even get here? Aren't you guarding the area in front of the Castle? How did they even know where to apparate? Answer me! How did they know where the werewolf was?"
"There was someone else with them," Lucius said quietly.
"What? Who?"
"Angela Rosier, Master."
Voldemort surprisingly ran out of curses and stopped in mid-motion, eyeing his servant in shock.
/
There was silence in the gloomy kitchen. Albus Dumbledore was looking at Harry with that x-ray look of his and his student was not feeling exactly pleasant about it. Madam Pomfrey returned with some salve, bandages, and a splint, and skilfully dealt with Angela's ankle.
"I still have to get back to Lupin," she reasoned her haste. "I'll check on you later. Walk as little as possible, all right?" she urged on the girl as she was leaving.
"Yes, thank you," Angela murmured.
Ron´s and Bill's mother stood up from her chair where she had been sitting and began to collect the empty mugs from the table with a lament.
"Dumbledore, don't ever let them do something like that again! It was complete madness! Everyone could have lost their lives in there! How could you let only these three go?"
"It seemed the best course of action and they insisted," said Dumbledore seriously.
"They insisted?" Molly repeated almost squealing. "Who is the wise, grown-up wizard here? You shouldn't have let them!"
"Everything went well after all," Dumbledore tried to calm her down.
Angela gritted her teeth. Everything went well? Damn, she felt sick again.
"Yes, but only with great luck!" shouted Molly.
"And thanks to Angela," added Hermione, who understood the situation very quickly.
"Hey, what about your mother?" Ron asked curiously. "Was she there, too?"
"Ronald!" howled Hermione. "How can you be so tactless?"
"Tact… what? What is that?" he wondered and his girlfriend rolled her eyes.
Harry thought that the Daily Prophet more than often made people's lives really difficult.
"It won't be probably very easy for you right now," Molly Weasley also chimed in. "Who knows what your mother will say about this. You probably didn't make her very happy."
"Molly!" Dumbledore looked at her indignantly.
Harry felt Angela shaking, but every time he opened his mouth to stop those talks, someone overtook him.
"Blood is not water, Dumbledore," Molly protested. "Can you imagine how the betrayal of your own daughter must hurt?"
"She was definitely among the Death Eaters you fought against, wasn't she?" Ron joined his mother.
"Now, when I think about it, she didn't even know you were on our side, right?" wondered Hermione, who could not overcome her curiosity either.
"Well, she won´t be happy beyond herself, that´s for sure," added Ron.
Angela suddenly jumped up from the table so violently that she overturned the chair she was sitting on.
"My mother is dead, okay?!" she snapped with her voice cracking. "So, she will hardly say anything to me!" she screamed with tears in her eyes and then ran out the kitchen.
The deafening silence fell upon the room after her getaway. Harry shot an accusing look at the surprised looking audience, got up and ran after her.
"Harry!" Hermione called after him. "Harry, wait!"
He did not even slow down. He took the stairs three at a time and dashed into the hall. He did not hear footsteps on the stairs, but the door to the outside was ajar and the night breeze was playing with it…
/
For a long time, only the crackling of torches could be heard in the underground hall of the Dark Castle, as the Dark Lord himself called his noble residence.
"Repeat to me, Lucius, what you just said," Voldemort requested in a dangerous voice.
"Angela Rosier was helping them," Lucius repeated a little louder, raising his head proudly. "That's why they knew everything. She was the one who brought them here, helped them free the werewolf, and knew how they could run away with him."
That dangerous, tense silence came again.
Lord Voldemort gripped his wand in his long bony fingers, raging in his mind. However, he was surprised at the same time. What surprised, he was absolutely shocked!
How came that he didn't sense betrayal in the girl? The best user of Legilimency, who had ever lived, and he was outwitted by a little naive witch? His vanity had just taken a severe crack, but he refused to admit it.
"That's not possible!" he snarled grimly. "Simply not possible!"
Snape standing not far from his Master's back, grimaced knowingly.
"Unfortunately it is, Master," Bellatrix confirmed Lucius's words. "We saw the girl with our own eyes."
"That little bitch! That brat dared to betray me?" Voldemort could not believe it. Then he glanced over his servants. "Everyone take your hoods down! Now!"
The Death Eaters obeyed without a word.
"Where's Mary Rosier?" Voldemort snapped quizzically. "Bring her to me. Immediately!"
"Unfortunately, that cannot be done, my lord," replied Lucius Malfoy coldly.
"How—comes —that – cannot – be – done?" the Dark Lord asked with venomous emphasis. He suddenly stiffened. "You don't want to tell me that also she..." he did not finish the sentence.
"No, it´s not like that, Master. She's dead," Lucius informed him stiffly.
The Dark Lord took another long pause.
/
Harry flung the door open, dashed outside and looked around. He saw Angela stumbling under a street lamp and sprinted after her. Her ankle was definitely still hurting, so he easily caught up with her and grabbed her arms. He turned her toward him and saw her face contorted in despair and drenched in tears.
"Angela! Angie! I'm begging you, calm down," he tried to comfort her, when she started to resist his hold.
"Let me be! Let me go, Harry! I doubt you want to have anything in common with the murderer of own mother!"
"It was an accident; it's not your fault!"
"It is! I killed her!" Angela screamed, writhing in Harry's grip. "I messed everything up as much as I only could!"
"That´s not true! You did what you had to do!" Harry was still holding her firmly.
"Did I?" she gasped for breath shakily. "We all must just die, otherwise nothing! If I hadn't joined the Order, my mother would still be alive!"
"You would stand up against me?" he asked quietly, trying to catch her gaze. "Against everything good in this world? You would rather be a Death Eater?"
After a tense pause, Angela sobbed: "No, I would not," she stopped fighting against him.
"See? There was nothing what you did wrong. Come on, Angie," Harry spoke to her calmingly. "You can't take back what's already happened."
He pulled her closer to him and Angela finally gave in. She put her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and cried desperately. Harry hugged her as tight as he could with his right hand and gently stroked her hair with his left.
In the rectangle of light that shone from the open door of the Blacks´ house, several figures appeared. They were looking in their direction, but no one came out.
Harry kept hugging his girl, soothing her without any more words.
/
"How?" Lord Voldemort asked with a single word that was filled with hatred.
"She ended up alone in the hallway with the trap. It looks like either Potter or her daughter threw her against the spikes. She died quickly. When we got there, it was all over. We only got a glimpse of those two, just before they apparated," Malfoy Sr. spoke calmly, but everything inside him was writhing in fear that he would become the lightning rod of the Lord's fury. He thought about letting the Lord know also about Rosier's relationship with Potter, but sensibly decided that he should leave it for later.
"Why didn't Mary unlock the door so you could help her?" Voldemort asked in a chilling tone.
"We don't know. She certainly tried, but she couldn't open them herself," Bellatrix replied bravely.
Voldemort stood still for a moment before heading toward his pitch-black throne.
"That little traitor will pay for this!" he hissed on the way. "I hate that whore maybe even more than filthy Potter!"
I'll kill you, Angela Rosier! And before that you will beg for death on your knees, I swear! he cursed Angela in his mind, as if she could hear him. He turned back to the Death Eaters.
"She's going to beg for mercy!" Voldemort roared unexpectedly, making everyone wince, putting all the raging hatred he felt into those words.
/
Angela was very slowly calming down. Still in safety of Harry's arms, she began to wipe the tears from her cheeks when she felt his grip suddenly became disproportionately strong. He even pulled out some of her long hair. She looked up to him startled to see hatred in Harry's emerald eyes.
She did not even have time to take a breath, when he grabbed her arms and yanked her away from him with all his might. She landed hard on the pavement, spraining her right ankle again and scraping the skin on her palms and elbows. Two figures in the nearby doorway, Hermione and Ron, widened their eyes at Angela falling to the ground.
When she looked up to him from the ground again in fear, Harry was already aiming his wand at her.
"I hate you," he hissed ominously. "I hate you. I hate, I hate," he repeated over and over again, as if he was going crazy.
"Harry…" she gasped out, realizing that it was not Harry speaking to her with such hatred. In appearance, yes, but the look he was giving her was definitely not his.
"You're going to beg for mercy!" he screamed in a raspy voice that made Angela flinch in horror.
/
The Dark Lord sat on the throne and placed his bony fingers on his forehead. He felt a sharp, constricting pain and a strange connection. He immediately realized what was happening and struggled to calm himself down.
/
Harry did not even know what he was doing at that moment. Then his head exploded with terrible pain, until he felt that he might jump out of his skin and he saw Angela on the ground, looking at him in fear. To his own horror, he was aiming his wand at her.
/
Voldemort made himself more comfortable and silently pushed the raging hatred that was controlling him deep into his subconscious, where it could wait until the time was right. He still had a headache, but it was nothing against that painful moment, when he connected with Harry Potter thanks to his rage.
/
The pain finally subsided and to his astonishment, Harry fell to his knees exhausted. Hermione and Ron were already running quickly toward them and Angela was still sitting on the ground in shock.
"Harry!" cried Hermione, kneeling down to him. "What's wrong with you?"
"I… I don't know," Harry shook his head, rubbing his forehead as he quickly realized what had just happened. He looked at Angela. She curled completely into herself and gripping her right ankle. He ignored a slight headache and shaky knees, and with Ron's help, he stood up and stumbled over to her.
"Angie, are you okay?" he poured out with concern. "I'm sorry, forgive me, I didn't know what I was doing and…"
Angela placed a finger on his lips. "I know," she whispered. "That wasn't you."
Hermione and Ron stared at them in shock. Meanwhile, Dumbledore also reached them, noticing that they had run out of the house.
"What's going on?" he asked seriously.
Harry was hugging Angela and neither of them seemed to have an answer.
"Well," Hermione began to speak slowly and quietly. "We saw Harry pushing Angela away until she fell to the ground and then point his wand at her. When we reached them, Harry was back… to himself."
"We don't understand what that was supposed to mean and Harry didn't explain it to us either," said Ron in a low voice.
Dumbledore approached the pair on the ground with a concerned expression.
"Is it true, Harry?" he asked directly.
Harry, who had of course heard everything, looked up and nodded slowly.
"I need to speak with you two," the Hogwarts Headmaster stated. "Now."
Harry understood that very well.
"Angie," he addressed his girlfriend gently. "Get up. We should go back, come on."
He helped her up and they followed Dumbledore's tall figure. Hermione and Ron, who had not even managed to handle with Angela's outcry in the kitchen and now this added to it, hesitantly went after them as well.
/
The Dark Lord tapped the back of his throne with his sharp fingernails until it echoed through the hall and scanned those present in front of him with a blazing gaze.
"Severus, go find out how it looks like as we had planned," he said unexpectedly. Snape bowed to him and walked away with his head high. "Draco. Lucius. To me," Voldemort snapped in a voice as cold as an icicle, pointing to the ground in front of his throne. "And the rest of you—stay in the Castle, but get out of here!"
With deep bows, the Death Eaters moved away as quickly as possible, only miraculously not jamming the door out.
Voldemort fixed his gaze on the two bowed blonde heads and let them wait in their cold sweat for a moment.
"Draco, get up," he ordered bluntly then.
Malfoy Jr. stood up tensely and looked into Voldemort's crimson eyes with an expressionless face.
/
"Harry, I think you know what that was supposed to mean," Dumbledore concluded as they sat in the salon.
Harry nodded dejectedly: "Yes, sir."
"Angela doesn't know about it?"
"No."
The mentioned witch, with a pale face and bloodshot eyes, sat next to him and followed the conversation unfold intently.
"But I want her to know," Harry added gravely.
"Should I leave?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, you don't have to," he shook his head and turned to his girlfriend, who was watching him seriously.
"You were right about me hiding something from you. Because of what happened today, I feel obligated to tell you at least some of it," Harry began slowly.
"You don't have to, Harry," she responded quietly.
"But I want to!" he countered.
"All right, I'm listening then…"
Harry took one of her hands in his.
"Sixteen years ago, when Voldemort killed my parents and attempted to kill me as well, he didn't just leave me with this scar," he pointed at the spot, where his black hair covered that reddish lightning. "Unintentionally, but still, he transferred some of his abilities to me, such as the Parseltongue, which made everyone think I was Slytherin's heir during the second year at Hogwarts. But that's not all. According to Professor Dumbledore, a kind of spiritual connection has formed between us. After his ´resurrection´, I started to feel when he was happy or angry about something. I also had dreams that related to him. I once managed to save Mr Weasley when I had a dream about him being attacked by Voldemort's snake."
"Nagini," Angela whispered and Harry nodded.
"Professor Dumbledore insisted that I must learn Occlumency, because he was sure that sooner or later Voldemort would realize the connection between us and use it against me, as it turned out later. I did not really like being taught that by Snape. It seemed to me that it was getting worse and worse. I fell asleep during the History of Witchcraft and Wizardry exam and dreamed that Voldemort had captured Sirius in the Department of Mysteries. That's why I went there with Hermione, Ron and the others. I was convinced that he was in danger and wanted to save him. But that dream was only forced upon me by Voldemort to lure me there," at this point Harry paused almost imperceptibly, deciding to leave out the reason of that intention, the prophecy that involved both of them, for now. "Almost all of us paid for it, just because of me. At the last moment, members of the Order and Sirius came to help us. You already know what that led to."
Angela looked somewhere behind his shoulder and nodded with her eyes shiny.
"The next year, Snape started teaching me Occlumency again, much to my displeasure, but this time it finally worked."
I'm sure it was thanks to you, he added only in their minds, so Dumbledore didn't hear it. Angela just looked at him lovingly.
"I stopped connecting to his feelings and didn't have those strange dreams anymore. Only once recently, I did forget to clear my head before going to bed and it backfired on me, but that's beside the point. And as for today... I don't know, but I just wasn't paying attention, so much happened and his anger went through me like lightning and..."
"He was beside himself with rage and hatred, wasn't he?" Angela asked with a trembling voice.
Harry did not answer, but he did not have to. He turned to Dumbledore.
"Do you think it can happen again?" he asked, outwardly calm.
The Headmaster was silent for a moment. "Yes, if you're not careful," he finally said.
"So, I could hurt Angela," Harry stated dryly.
"It's possible," Dumbledore nodded.
"You should stay away from me," he pointed out bitterly, letting go of her hand.
But Angela didn't even think about such possibility.
"Forget it!" she protested sternly, turning his face to her. "We'll handle this together, you'll see."
"Aren't you scared?" Harry asked extremely quietly.
"Yes, I am," she nodded. "But not of you, Harry."
He reached up and soothed her face. "I won't let anything happen to you..." he mumbled determined.
"I know."
Dumbledore was watching the young couple with a slight smile, when there was a quick knock on the door and Arthur Weasley burst in.
"Dumbledore! You must come with me to the hospital! Nobody knows what to do anymore!"
Albus immediately stood up.
"That's what I was worried about," he said heavily and followed him into the hall where Hermione, Ron and Molly Weasley were already waiting. Bill was already somewhere outside again and Madam Pomfrey was still with Lupin.
Angela stood up from the sofa and Harry followed her.
"I'm going too," she stated firmly as she caught up with Dumbledore. "Maybe I can find out what's going on with those kids."
Dumbledore looked at her seriously, before conjuring a light crutch, which he handed to her. Angela gratefully took it, relieving the pain in her ankle.
"I suppose you're going too, Harry," Dumbledore stated.
He just nodded.
"And so are we!" said Ron.
"But…" his mother opened her mouth to object.
"They need help over there, Mum!" protested Ron.
"We almost ran away from there before, it wasn't nice of us," Hermione added.
"So we're all going," Molly sighed, heading first to the kitchen fireplace.
/
Dumbledore rushed away to consult with the Head Healer, Mr Weasley returned to patrolling the front of the hospital, his wife put on her blue and white volunteer cloak and went back to help in the ward, where she had already been that evening. Ron and Hermione were taken away by the young Healer, who they were already helping before as well, and Angela and Harry watched the chaos around them in disbelief.
The hospital was literally full up to the ceiling. The children from the school could hardly fit in the children's ward, so they were spread out in all the available rooms, and yet many of them were lying on loungers in the corridors. Tired Healers were running around them, a lot of unhappy parents were standing around, volunteers from the Order and specialists from the Aurors department were hanging around as well.
Angela limped with the help of her crutch and Harry to the nearest child, a boy who was watching them with red eyes. There were so many young patients here and no one was paying attention to this one. She touched his forehead. He had a high fever and was wheezing hard.
"What are you doing here?" an elderly Healer in wrinkled lime-green robe barked nervously at them, coming to see the boy.
"We came with Professor Dumbledore to help," Harry answered for them.
"Then go to the fourth floor! It's even worse there than here!" the wizard directed them to the stairs and bent down to the boy.
So, they set out there, passing more and more sick people on the way in horror.
"They look like they just have the flu," Harry whispered.
"But they're dying from it," Angela added, horrified.
They gradually made their way up, where they almost bumped into very tired and exhausted Dumbledore, who was discussing with a white-haired wizard in bright blue robes most likely the director of the hospital.
"Angela! So? Can you tell by the signs what they could have used?" asked Dumbledore immediately.
Mr Benedict looked at him in amazement, surprised about whom the Headmaster was asking something like this.
Angela shook her head helplessly. "Unfortunately, I have no idea what it could be, so I don't know the antidote either."
"But I do," said a very familiar voice behind them suddenly.
Harry turned sharply, Dumbledore looked over there and Angela just stood motionless.
"I know the antidote and I even have a sample with me," Severus Snape continued with complete calm, pulling a small bottle of reddish liquid from his robes. "But the way I look at it, I have to make a lot more of it."
"Why should we believe you?" snapped Harry.
Snape approached them with a smirk: "Because you have no other choice, Potter."
"And where have you been all the time the children have been dying here!" Harry persisted. He could not accept that this particular bastard should be helping them.
"Harry, stop it," Angela tugged at his sleeve without looking at him.
The Head Healer rushed to Snape with hope on his face.
"You really have the antidote?" he asked in a raspy voice. The parents and relatives of the children had been bombarding him with their questions and complaints for two hours, and he was already somewhat exhausted.
"It would be best to try it right now," Snape nodded condescendingly.
"Yes, yes…Mr Starske!" the director called out to the Healer hurrying past them. "Which of the children is in the worst condition?"
"One about nine-year-old girl, I'm going to see her right now, Mr Director," replied the wizarding doctor, taken aback.
"All right, lead us then," Dumbledore ordered.
Healer Starske, with Dumbledore and Mr Benedict in tow, began to weave between the patients and beds in the corridor, Snape followed them and Harry and Angela after a while as well.
They arrived in one of the rooms in the children's ward, where the children were already unconscious. Starske took the antidote from Snape and, with the help of the tall nurse, injected it into the neck of the blonde girl by the window. Her parents stood nervously at the head of the bed and watched in disbelief as the crowd of newcomers spread out around and waited anxiously. Angela did not notice Snape moved to stand behind her.
"I've heard about your escapade, Rosier," he hissed into her ear as they all looked intently at the petite, red-faced girl. "You screwed up just perfectly."
"That´s not your damn concern," retorted Angela in a low voice, her stomach squeezing at the sound of his voice. Harry heard her and turned around. He glared at Snape upset.
"Still as insolent as ever," noted Snape. "I hope you realize the consequences of your stupid actions."
Angela clutched her crutch and remained steadfastly silent.
"We'll talk later," the Potions´ teacher added, finally pulling away from her.
"Well, excellent!" cried Mr. Starske happily when the little girl suddenly opened her eyes.
"Sarah! Sweetie, how are you feeling?" her mother rushed to her.
"I´m okay, Mum. What's going on?" the girl asked confused.
"Are you really feeling well?" Starske wanted to make sure.
The girl nodded and let her crying mother hug her.
"How long does it take to make that potion, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.
"Half an hour, it's surprisingly easy," Snape replied calmly.
"Then prepare as much of it as you can. I´m sure Mr. Benedict here will send potions specialists to Hogwarts with you to help you."
"Good," Snape nodded and without looking back left the room, the hospital director trotting after him.
"Mr. Starske, in forty minutes you will have enough antidote here for everyone," Dumbledore turned to the Healer.
"We'll give this to those who are in the worst shape," Starske nodded, Snape's bottle in hand. "I hope no more children die," he remarked, already heading to the next bed with the nurse in a tow.
"And we will go," Dumbledore turned to Harry and Angela. "I know you'd like to help too, but they can probably handle it here now and you need to rest."
The Headmaster was more than right. Neither of them objected, as they headed for the corridor and down the stairs. They first returned to Grimmauld Place through the fireplace and went to check on Lupin. He was sleeping. Madame Pomfrey declared that by this time tomorrow, he should be at least physically well.
Back down in the hall, Angela approached Dumbledore. "You probably want us to go back to school, don't you, Professor?"
"Exactly," Dumbledore nodded. "I'll send Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley after you in a moment."
"I won't be back until the evening, if you don't mind," Angela said in a firm voice.
"What?" Harry wondered. "But why? Where do you want to go?"
"I´m sorry… But I need to be alone..."
"Angela, I can't let you do that," Dumbledore protested feebly. "You can't go anywhere alone now. It´s too dangerous."
"But I can, and I will," Angela replied harshly and limped toward the door. Dumbledore's hand went down to where his wand was as if he wanted to stop her by force, but then he changed his mind.
"Something can happen to you!" Harry exclaimed.
"Nothing's going to happen to me, Harry," Angela replied shakily. And even if, I would deserve it, she added only to herself.
Harry rushed after her. "I'll go with you then," he suggested hopefully.
"No," she shook her head uncompromisingly and looked at him pleadingly. "Please, try to understand me… I… I need to deal with it… somehow."
He sighed: "Where are you going then? Tell me at least that."
She gently caressed his cheek. "Home," she answered quietly and then walked out without looking back.
"I'm worried about her," Harry said after a moment.
"That's quite understandable," Dumbledore responded.
He turned to him with a tired face: "Couldn't I at least stay here with Lupin until morning?"
The Headmaster nodded his head in understanding: "Of course."
Louder than usually, Angela appeared in the back corner of the garden and slowly made her way toward the dark house.
In my room… the picture… The scene from Salem… There's a letter, read it…
Her mother's last words kept replaying in her head. She had to go there and read that letter. What she told her… If it was true…
Angela limped tiredly to the back door and unlocked it. Then she closed them again behind her and used one of her best protective shields on them, as well as on the front entrance. Only then she headed up the stairs.