Chapter Six

Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire.

Magnificent in full Minister of Magic regalia, Albus Dumbledore, strode through the corridors of the ministry, acknowledging the respectful greetings of passing Wizards and Witches with the briefest of nods. The expression he had on the long intellectual face was positively thunder­ous. Albus Dumbledore was in a very bad mood indeed.

He reached the presidential conference room, swept past the Aurors at the door - and paused on the threshold. The conference room was small, but fur­nished with the greatest luxury. There was an ornate marble fireplace, discreetly tucked away in one corner. A highly polished oval conference table occupied the centre of the room with high-backed chairs arranged around it.

The only ornaments were an antique flute on a stand, and an ancient painting on the wall. Two of the chairs were already occupied, one by Minerva McGonagall, current Headmistress of Hogwarts, the other by her Deputy, Severus Snape.

Dumbledore surveyed them coldly, and then took his place in the throne-like chair at the head of the conference table.

Well?' He enquired, his eyes devoid of any feeling

Severus said respectfully, He has arrived Minister.'

The news gave Dumbledore no pleasure. Involving this – person – does not please me.'

Snape's voice was still respectful, but it held an underlying firmness. The Constitution clearly states that when, in Emergency Session, the Members of the Inner Council are unanimous - '

As indeed we are,' interrupted Headmistress McGonagall crisply. She was a small neat woman, with an im­mensely strong will.

Dumbledore waved them both to silence. Yes, yes, in such an event, the Minister of Magic can be overruled. I know that ridiculous clause.' Dumbledore sighed with exagger­ated weariness. Very well, have him enter.'

Severus cast the Sonorus charm and called to the Aurors outside to let in the guest they were expecting. Everyone looked expectantly at the door.

Seconds, later it opened. A figure stood in the doorway; a tall figure, elegant in black velvet, his arrogantly handsome features set off by a neatly pointed black beard and piercing emerald eyes.

Tom Riddle.

He stood looking at the three magical beings for a moment, and then gave an exaggeratedly courtly bow. Minister, Severus, Minerva. This is a very great, may I say, a most unexpected honour.'

The deep musical voice had an insolently amused undertone like the purr of a great black cat. It was with catlike litheness that Tom strolled across the room. I may be seated?' Without waiting for either permission or reply, He dropped gracefully into the vacant chair and looked insolently around the little group. Now, what can I do for you?'

Dumbledore leaned forward, fixing Tom with the piercing look that had reduced many a wizarding opponent to terrified silence. You are one of the most evil and corrupt beings our wizarding race has ever produced. Your crimes are without number, your villainy without end.'

Tom Riddle nodded graciously, like someone re­ceiving a well-deserved compliment.

Restraining himself with a visible effort, Dumbledore continued, Nevertheless, we are prepared to offer you a full and free pardon.'

If Dumbledore expected surprise or gratitude, he was to be disappointed. Tom raised an eyebrow. 'What makes you think I want your forgiveness?'

We can offer you an alternative to your renegade existence,' said Snape bluntly.

Indeed?' Tom raised an eyebrow. Beneath the assumed calm his mind was racing furiously. 'The wizarding community needed him, that was obvious. And if that was the case, they must know that no ordinary reward would persuade him to serve them. Could it be..?

Dumbledore spoke, completing Tom's thought. 'Obliviation of all your crimes. A whole new life.'

It was all that Tom could do not to show his excitement. Absolution with a fierce effort of will, he forced himself to remain calm. I see. . . and what must I do?'

Dumbledore blurted out the incredible truth. Rescue Harry Potter.'

Old Harry Potter-Malfoy was wandering in a nightmare. Old, white-haired and frail, yet somehow indomitable, he staggered on through endless damp and dark corridors. The flames of the wall torches seemed to be set at odd, discon­certing angles, presenting a mind-bending sense of unreality. He plodded on. There was an answer somewhere, a reason behind this mystery, and eventually he would find it. He had never given up yet, and he was too old to change.

Suddenly he paused, peering ahead.

Someone was moving towards him.

Old Harry stepped back, flattening himself against a wall. A towering distorted shape moved along the corridors. The shape came nearer, the twisted shadows danced - and suddenly a slender platinum-haired young woman appeared from round the corner.

Harry looked at her in astonishment for a moment, and then stepped forward, Druscilla? Surely it's Druscilla?'

The young woman threw herself into his arms with a force that almost knocked him over. Grandfather! Thank goodness I've found you! How did we get here? What's happening?'

Gently Harry disengaged himself. I wish I knew, my dear.'

As soon as I found myself in this horrible place I started looking for you. Somehow I knew you were here.'

Yes, yes,' said Harry, with a touch of his old tetchiness. The important question now is, where are we and why?'

Druscilla looked despairingly around. There was a patch of light at the corridor junction behind them, and suddenly a shadow fell across it.

The shadow of a Deatheater.

Druscilla pointed. Look! We must be in the Riddle Mansion!'

Harry, as usual, refused to take anything for granted. We were brought here. Perhaps the Deatheater was brought here too.'

Before Druscilla could answer the Deatheater ran round the corner. She gave a gasp of horror at the sight of the squat man with the silver hand. The constantly darting around of the Deatheater's head registered that he had spotted them.

The harsh grating voice echoed through the corridors. Halt! Halt at once or you will be killed!'

Run, Grandfather!' shouted Druscilla.

Separating to present smaller targets, ducking and weaving and zigzagging, Harry and Druscilla fled. As they ran, their distorted shadows moved with them.

Confused by the constantly changing images, the Deatheater fired off spells again and again, the blasts echoing along the corridors. Unfortunately, it had registered Druscilla's use of Harry's name. As it pursued them along the corridors, the voice grated, It is Harry Potter! Harry Potter must be destroyed! Crucio!

A large map lit up on one wall of the conference room. It showed the Mountains around Hogwarts, the castle and the lake. At the inaccessible centre of the lake was a patch of sinister blackness.

Wizards End,' said Dumbledore simply.

Tom stroked his beard. Ah yes. The black secret at the centre of Hogwarts.'

Recently,' said Severus, Wizard's End has become - reactivated. Somehow it is draining energy from the Orb of Harmony.'

To such an extent,' said Minerva, that the entire wizarding world is endangered.'

The Orb of Harmony was the precious Wizarding energy source, formed from the nucleus of a Black Hole, stabilised by Helga Hufflepuff untold years ago.

Dumbledore stared broodingly at the map of the region. We must know what is happening there.'

Did it occur to you to go and look?'

Two of the Unspeakables entered the area to investigate. Neither one returned.'

So you sent for Harry Potter.' Tom knew that for many years Albus Dumbledore had used Harry Potter, often against his will, as a kind of Wizarding trouble-shooter.

We looked for Harry Potter,' corrected Snape. But we discovered that Harry Potter no longer existed, in any of his time lines,'

Dumbledore said flatly, It appears that Harry has been taken out of space and time.'

Snape waved his wand and muttered a silent incantation. The map of Wizard's End was replaced by a distorted, swirling vision of a Harry Potter, whose vampire patrolling had been so suddenly interrupted. We believe that the attempt to lift this Harry Potter from his time stream was unsuccessful. He and his companions are trapped in a time­ eddy, and there they must stay until we find and free his other selves.'

And if you cannot?' There was no reply, and Tom laughed softly. A world without Harry Potter. It scarcely bears thinking about!' He considered for a moment. You can get me into the Nether region?'

Severus nodded to the marble fireplace in the corner. We have a power-boosted open-ended floo port.'

What makes you believe Potter's other selves are in there?'

Dumbledore shrugged. Their time-traces converge there.'

Tom nodded thoughtfully. Why me?'

We needed someone cunning, ruthless, experi­enced, determined...'

And disposable?' suggested Tom.

Not at all,' said Snape blandly. You would be useless to us dead.'

McGonagall was becoming impatient. Will you go?'

For a long moment Tom made no reply.

Dumbledore leaned forward. Will you?'

And rescue Harry Potter . . .' Tom Riddle smiled.