- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO -
Midnight Meetings
Harry was finally allowed to return to Gryffindor Tower the Friday afternoon before the summer term began. Instead of having two last days of freedom, though, he was forced to spend most of the time catching up on homework. He'd had plenty of spare time while he was in the hospital wing, but the headaches had made the prospect of reading and writing just too hard to face.
That was why he was one of the few people still up and working on Saturday night when they received a late night visit from Dobby.
"Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is bringing a message from the Headmaster, sir!"
Harry sat up, and smiled at the house-elf's enthusiasm. "Hello, Dobby." He was wearing the usual assortment of randomly matched clothes, including what looked like a comedy pirate hat that had probably come out of the Christmas crackers months ago. "What did Professor Dumbledore say?"
"Professor Dumbledore is asking for Harry Potter to come and see him in his office, sir. He is telling Dobby to tell Harry Potter that the password is 'Pepper Imps'. Professor Dumbledore is a great man, sir, trusting his private passwords to a mere house-elf!"
"He wants me to come now?" Harry said in surprise. It was already well after dark, and the restrictions on wandering the castle alone were still in place.
"With all haste, he is saying, sir." Dobby wrung his hands. "And Dobby is almost forgetting - he is saying that Harry Potter must not go alone."
"I'll bring Ron and Hermione, then," he decided. "Actually, Dobby, can you fetch Hermione for me? She's in the girls dorms."
Dobby was happy to oblige, and Hermione came down, trailed by Ginny Weasley. Harry didn't have the heart to exclude her from the expedition, and threw up his hands in defeat.
"Oh, let's all go. I'll get Ron and Neville too. Everybody here's proved they can be trusted."
The five of them trooped down to Dumbledore's office, hoping they wouldn't meet Filch along the way, since Harry wasn't exactly sure the invitation could be stretched to four companions. However, when he spoke the password and let them all in to the office area, the Headmaster only smiled at them all.
"A wise choice of companions, Mr. Potter," he noted.
"That's a matter of opinion," said Snape nastily. Neville flinched a little, but Harry couldn't blame him - he hadn't seen the Potions master lurking in the shadows, either. A few moments later Professor McGonagall came in to join them, and Dumbledore closed the door.
"I have called this meeting thanks to some useful information Mr. Potter supplied to us last week," he said without further preamble. "It emerges that there was, indeed, an effort to break several Death Eaters out of Azkaban six days ago." The Gryffindors all grimaced or murmured in dismay, but Snape did not react to the news. "It appears that several Aurors had been put under the Imperius Curse, and prisoners were being smuggled out one by one over a period of days or perhaps even weeks.
"So the Dementors still control Azkaban, then?" Ron asked grimly.
"For the moment," Dumbledore agreed. "Although, alas, I fear their ultimate allegiance is still a matter of some question."
"Did they all get out?" asked Harry. "The Death Eaters, I mean?"
"Many of Voldemort's closest followers, unfortunately, yes."
"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Neville wore a very intent and rather cold expression that Harry had never seen on him before.
Dumbledore inclined his head in a slight nod. "We believe, based on their respective positions in Voldemort's favour, that Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy were probably the first two prisoners to be released. Our agents were able to locate the place where the Death Eaters were temporarily housed to recover before returning to their master's side, and there was a confrontation."
Harry's stomach lurched, and he couldn't look at Ron or Ginny. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Elphias Doge was, sadly, killed during the battle, as were two of the Death Eaters." Dumbledore managed to look equally sad for both of these losses, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to be very sympathetic to anyone who willingly followed Voldemort.
"Malfoy?" Ron asked sharply.
"From what I can gather from the reports, there is no evidence that he was even there. It is likely that he had already left to return to Voldemort's side before the fighting took place."
"Who were the two men killed?" Hermione spoke up a little shakily.
"Macnair and Goyle," Snape answered bluntly, catching Harry by surprise; he'd expecting him to continue lurking in silent disapproval.
"Poor Gregory," said Neville quietly. Ron and Ginny exchanged a solemn glance.
"Indeed." The Potions master looked at Dumbledore. "You realise what this will do to the tensions in Slytherin house when I break the news?"
Dumbledore suddenly looked rather old. "I do," he admitted. "I fear, alas, that the time for hoping to maintain neutrality is long behind us." Snape scowled at this, but didn't comment.
"And the injuries, Albus?" McGonagall asked warily. "Was anyone else but Doge hurt in the conflict?"
"Only two with any seriousness: Hestia Jones, and Remus Lupin."
A wordless sound of dismay arose from several throats at once. Snape sneered.
"Spare your touching concern for the true human beings - your werewolf friend will be free to run amok in an indecently short length of time despite his shameful carelessness."
"Severus," said McGonagall, eyebrows lowered warningly.
Dumbledore raised a calming hand. "Quite, quite. However, Severus is correct in one particular; Mr. Lupin has recovered from many more serious injuries in his time, and will likely be back on his feet in no time." Harry breathed out in relief.
"What about Hestia Jones?" asked Ginny. Dumbledore's expression grew more grave.
"Alas, her condition is considerably more serious. She was hit by a particularly bad instance of the Cruciatus Curse, and is currently receiving treatment in St. Mungo's."
Harry looked sideways at Neville, who seemed to tremble slightly, but stayed firm. "Is she responding to the Deconvulsing Draught?" he asked.
Both naturally and oddly, it was Snape who replied. He spoke in the abrupt, detached manner that was about as close as he got to a civil tone. "It's early to say, but a partial recovery at least seems likely. Jones was not under the spell for a prolonged period of time, and the Aurors on scene had the sense to have her Apparated out immediately."
Neville nodded. "That's good," he said sincerely, without the slightest trace of jealousy or resentment.
Harry cleared his throat, uncomfortable, not least with the thought that he would probably never have been half as gallant and unselfish in Neville's situation. "Er... what's our next move?"
"Your move, Potter, is to do as you're told and attempt to keep out of trouble, if such behaviour is conceivable for you." Snape's dark eyes flashed.
Harry turned to him. "Professor, can you tell what the Death Eaters were up to?"
He honestly meant it as a neutral question, but Snape reacted as if it was a snarled attack. Harry jerked back instinctively as the Potions master raised his arm - but then Snape simply yanked back the sleeve.
The Dark Mark was completely gone.
Harry gaped. "You're not connected to Voldemort any more?"
"It appears that whatever pocket of space the Curse of Durand has isolated us in, the particular binding magic that Voldemort uses to keep track of his followers cannot penetrate it," Dumbledore explained. "Of course, there are other ways of passing information, but they depend on those outside deciding that anyone trapped inside the Curse would have any need to know."
"Oh." Harry thought about it for a moment, then smiled tentatively. "Well, surely that means Voldemort can't really be that powerful, then?" Of course, it had its downside, too - even if Malfoy or any other student was already marked as a Death Eater, they wouldn't be able to see the Dark Mark while the Curse was still effect. He touched his own scar, remembering the headache that he'd thought after the fact had been Voldemort in action. Had he been wrong? "What about me? Am I cut off too?"
"Your case is, of course, more complicated," Dumbledore said. "The properties of curse scars are not entirely understood, and certainly the bond between you and Voldemort is deeper and less part of the conscious mind than the Dark Mark. I believe that the link between you is not closed completely - for, if it were, I think the scar on your forehead would fade or even vanish - but certainly it is diminished."
"Is that why I didn't have to restart my Occlumency lessons this year?"
"Partly. But also because, in the current circumstances, I felt it would be dangerous for you and Severus both to continue. With the strength of all magic within the castle fluctuating quite severely, it would be risky indeed to attempt such exercises of power without the focusing element of a wand."
Harry was glad he made no mention of the disastrous way the lessons had been terminated last year, although it was clear from the sharpening of Snape's glare that he had not for a moment forgotten.
"How goes your own quest, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore neatly deflected the tension. "Have you been able to decipher the meaning of the Ravenclaw verse?"
He mentally groaned. "Yes, sir, but... the item was already gone."
"Gone?" McGonagall asked sharply.
"We think that... Voldemort... must have an agent inside the castle," Hermione explained. "Someone fanatical enough to be willing to be stuck inside with the rest of us by preventing anyone from lifting the Curse."
"I thought it might be Malfoy, but now I'm less sure," Harry admitted. "If Voldemort's making moves to free his father from Azkaban, then he doesn't need to do anything desperate to try and preserve his position."
"Malfoys of all generations are rarely self-sacrificing sorts," Snape put in dispassionately.
The Gryffindor students all looked rather surprised at that bald statement - perhaps reassessing the Slytherin Head of House's favouritism towards Draco. Harry himself didn't know what to think. Maybe Snape's apparent bias in support of his Slytherins was feigned as a part of his act, but Harry was pretty sure the corresponding hatred towards house Gryffindor was only too real. Surely nobody could be that venomous unless they really meant it?
Professor McGonagall looked to the Headmaster. "Albus, surely it would be wise for us to take a more active part in the pursuit to the solution of the Curse...?"
Dumbledore shook his head. "I fear not. The Curse was originally designed to imprint upon a single individual - Bertram Adroganter - and there is a strong danger that should the teaching staff, particularly myself, become too involved in the solution, the enchantment would recognise their position of authority and latch onto them as the only person who would be permitted to lift the Curse. And that would... not be wise."
"Why not?" asked Ginny with a frown. "Surely any of you would be better for the spell to imprint on than Harry. Er, no offence, Harry," she added hastily. Harry didn't quite get a quick enough look to be sure, but he could have sworn Snape's lips twitched in amusement.
"It's because the solution means going into the maze, isn't it?" Hermione was quickest to put things together.
The Headmaster nodded gravely. "Sometimes our strengths are also our weaknesses," he said, rather enigmatically. Fortunately, Harry thought he understood what Dumbledore was talking about. That had to be why the Headmaster had risked letting the children come back at all - they couldn't afford to lose Hogwarts, and if they relied on adults as soaked in magic as the teachers must be to solve the puzzle, they might never get past the Thaumentors.
Besides, with the way things were in the outside world, the students might very well be safer trapped in the school for the year - provided they were released at the end of it.
Dumbledore was gambling a hell of a lot on Harry being able to break the curse. "So you want me to be the one the spell imprints on, because I have a bit of a link to the Founders, but I'm not so magically strong that the Thaumentors would consider me a huge target?" he said.
Snape sneered at this assessment. Harry frowned, a thought striking him.
"If the Curse has imprinted on me, or partially imprinted on me, then how come Voldemort's agent was able to take the Ravenclaw item? I mean, shouldn't only I be able to find it?"
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Durand was, of course, an intelligent enough man to realise that there was at least one other person who required access to the spell's workings."
"Himself," Neville realised.
"Or in our case, whoever set off the Curse in the first place," Ron added.
"And he's already got one of them," said Ginny worriedly. "Can you still end the Curse without it?"
"I think so," said Hermione firmly. "'An eagle eye will see you clear'... I think the Ravenclaw item is a guide. 'Hard work will end what plot begins' - that has to mean that the Slytherin item will let us in to the maze, and the Hufflepuff item is used at the end of it. So we can't possibly do without either of those items, but we may be able to muddle through without the others."
"We'd better make sure we get to the Slytherin item before he does, then," said Ron.
"You know when and where the fourth clue is likely to appear?" McGonagall asked.
Harry just nodded. He didn't think it was particularly wise to mention to Snape his plans to infiltrate the Slytherin common room.
"We'll be ready for it this time," said Hermione.
"Good, good." Dumbledore clapped his hands. "And now, I think, our young friends should be getting back to their dormitories. Professor McGonagall, if you would be kind enough to provide an escort...?"
"Of course, Professor," she agreed with a nod.
Harry found himself momentarily hanging back beside Snape as they filed out, and against his better judgement had to speak. "Professor... do you even want to help us get out? I mean, wouldn't it be better for you if we just stayed trapped in Hogwarts and you never had to serve Voldemort again?"
Snape pinned him with an extremely sharp glance. "Some of us, Potter, have a sense of duty," he said icily.
Harry didn't dare press the point any further.
They stumbled into the darkened Gryffindor common room, yawning heavily. Harry saw, to his momentary confusion, that a number of steaming mugs had been set out on a tray.
"Butterbeer!" said Ron, almost worshipfully.
Harry realised the likely culprit. "Dobby, you're a marvel," he said aloud, and reached for the nearest mug.
And froze, as the snake ring suddenly wriggled off his finger, turning from silver to black as it touched the liquid within with a twist of its tail.
"Don't drink it!" he yelped urgently, knocking the mug out of Neville's hand. It hit the floor and bounced along the flagstones. There was a hiss, and the surface stone started to corrode.
Ron, standing with his own mug to his lips, put it down very slowly. Harry breathed out in relief when he saw that neither of the girls had started to drink.
Neville had gone wide-eyed. "Poison?" he squeaked in alarm.
"Malfoy," Harry realised grimly. "In revenge for me spying on him."
"Him, or Voldemort's agent in the castle," Hermione agreed. She cautiously nudged the fallen mug with her toe. The puddle of 'Butterbeer' was no longer hissing, but it had left quite a nasty scar on the stonework.
"If we'd drunk any of that, we wouldn't have had time to call for help," Ginny said weakly.
Ron was still looking shell-shocked from his near brush with death. "Tell Moody that whatever he paid for that ring, it was worth it!" he said, with feeling.
"Actually, I didn't get it from Moody," Harry had to reluctantly admit.
Hermione frowned. "Harry-?"
"I found it in Gryffindor's study," he mumbled.
"Harry!" Ron and Hermione yelled in horrified stereo.
"It's safe, isn't it?" he retorted defensively. "Anyway, you saw Snape check it for enchantments in that Potions class." He wondered, belatedly, if Snape hadn't actually been surreptitiously testing him for some kind of Death Eater curse.
"Active enchantments, Harry, it could have been programmed to react to anything!" Hermione yelped.
"Well, as it turns out it reacts to poisons, so I'm pretty lucky I picked it up," he retorted, effectively ending that line of conversation.
He knew she was right, though, and a worm of guilt coiled its way through the defensive layer of self-righteousness. When was he ever going to start thinking? He should have shown it to Hermione right away and had her help him test it thoroughly. Then he might even have known it was a poison-detector in time to save himself from drinking that Desanguinating Draught.
"We should take it to Snape," Ron said suddenly.
"The ring?" Harry blinked at him, befuddled.
"No... this stuff." He indicated the mugs with a sweep of his hand. "He must be able to tell us what kind of poison it is."
Neville checked the time, and blanched. "Er... do we really want to go and get him out of bed?"
They considered the prospect of stomping down to the dungeons and rousing a sleeping Snape.
"I'll go and get some vials to pour these into so nobody tries to drink them in the morning," Hermione decided quickly.
"Good idea."
Facing the idea of having nearly died from a stomach-corroding assassination attempt was one thing. Deliberately waking Snape up when he'd probably only just got in bed was quite another.