Chapter 7

When Harry woke that evening, he hoped it had all been a dream. But one look at the still figure of Snape and the shivering form of Splikvin, told him that it wasn't.

Sevvie, sensing Harry's gaze, jumped up on his bed and began to hiss at him. Only when Hedwig appeared and chased the young cat away did the Infirmary return to its silence; Snape hadn't so much as moved. However, Harry could tell he was awake because he would occasionally blink and also when he suddenly grabbed his forearm. I hope Draco's alright, Harry thought, Hopefully Voldemort's not too angry. Slowly, Harry fell into an unpeaceful sleep once more.

The morning dawned grey and bleak, with a drizzle of rain splattering against the window panes; unusual weather for summer. Gloom hung in the air like a thick blanket, wrapping around everything that lived. It seemed muggy in the castle, even with the windows opened a crack and breezes drifting through, though they only brought a more depressing feeling.

Snape still had not moved and Harry guessed that he hadn't slept either. Feeling worse, Harry silently climbed out of bed to see who else was there. Sirius was sleeping in a bed a few spaces away, with a small splint on his wrist. Dung was also there, sporting a few boils that had yet to be removed. Other than them and Splikvin, no one else from the Order was there for injury. Ron had fallen asleep in his chair, as had Remus and Tonks.

Harry teleported to The Hideaway and changed cloths. He put on his dragon hide vest and pulled the legs of his jeans over his boots. After holstering both wands and the dagger, Harry went downstairs to the dungeon and stood in front of the mysterious door which had refused to open since he'd first arrived at Black Manor.

Carefully, he observed the iron door and the border around it. Changing the lenses so that he could see spells, Harry saw a faint, red-green mist over the door. About to change his sight to normal, Harry stopped.

The mist began to move, separating into the two colors and twisting into two shapes. One, out of the red mist, was shaped like a coil, or spiral. The second, out of the green mist, was shaped like a wing. Slowly, the two merged then separated into words:

A hill full,

A hole full,

You cannot catch a bowl full.

Harry groaned inwardly, it was a riddle. The misty words then faded, forming a shapeless veil over the door once more. It then began the process of separating, shaping, and melting over again.

Meanwhile, Harry pondered the riddle. What was something that you could see, but not contain? It couldn't be air, or water. It had to be something not quite solid, but not quite liquid either. Something…in between.

Going back to the years he'd spent in muggle schools, Harry thought about what he'd learned in science class. Rocks could change type, but that wasn't the answer. Fire had different stages of burning, but that wasn't it either. He thought of something lighter, cooler, but there. Were you could see it, but not really hold it.

Harry's eyes were caught by the transforming mist before him. It swirled easily; in sight, but not in grasp. As impossible to be caught as light, but as visible as light itself. "Mist," he said aloud and, to a bit of his surprise, Harry heard the invisible lock on the door click, and the door creak open.

Cautiously, Harry pushed the door further open and stepped inside. As soon as he entered, torches flared into life, revealing a room full of strange objects. On the wall opposite him, Harry saw a brass plaque which read: 'The Room of Scrying,' and beneath that, was a still portrait of Grindelwald Black the first, born almost over two-thousand years ago—a little after the founders died.

With a stunned expression, Harry realized that this was most likely an ancestor of the dark wizard Grindelwald whom Dumbledore had defeated, and the mysterious creator of the Chimera Room: G.B. "So that wasn't your only trick," Harry murmured then began to look around at the contents of the room.

There was a small bookshelf containing book on the magic of Scrying, and some journals of notes Grindelwald had taken on the subject. On the desk were two bowls that contained pearly-clear water, as well as some old quills and ink that had long since been dried. Besides a battered chair, the only other thing was a full-length mirror that's surface was made- of all things- mist. There wasn't even a wooden backing when Harry looked around on the opposite side, yet the mist remained within the copper frame, swirling gently within itself. Something about it reminded Harry of the two-way mirror Sirius had given him, as well as the Mirror of Erised.

As he looked closer, Harry found a picture in its depths, slowly gaining both size and color. Then, Harry heard a voice- it was Wormtail's. "Y-yes M'Lord. I'll go there right away."

The image was of the main hall Harry had been first taken to last November; Voldemort and Pettigrew were alone.

"Do not fail me in this Wormtail," Voldemort said, "Now go. I will need the map of the castle passages soon."

Wormtail bowed, "Yes M'Lord." He dissaperated with a slight pop, and that was the last thing Harry saw before the mist covered both the picture and the voices once more.

He's making a map of the secret passageways into Hogwarts, Harry thought, maybe if I can find him, stop him, and turn him in. Then Sirius won't have to hide, he can really be my godfather, and Remus can be my god—uncle? Or is he also my godfather?Harry shook his head with a smirk, titles didn't matter. "Thank you," he told the portrait of G.B. Swiftly, Harry left the room and began to plan.

The first thing he did was look at the Marauders' Map. He kept watching it while getting his cloak. After a few minutes, he was rewarded. The name Peter Pettigrew appeared in the one-eyed witch passageway. Harry wiped the map blank, threw on the invisibility cloak, and teleported to the statue.

After transforming into a panther, Harry could hear the shuffling of a man's feet on the opposite side. He waited patiently until the statue moved and a rat came out. He stayed put until Wormtail was fully out and the passage shut, then he growled. Wormtail jumped and looked around wildly. Harry froze for a few moments and waited for the rat to calm down. He crouched, and lunged for his parents' traitor, throwing off the invisibility cloak in the process.

Easily he pinned the squealing rat and picked him up in his mouth. As tempting as it was to crush him, a dead rat would do Sirius no good, so Harry forced himself to keep Peter alive as he put the cloak back on with his tail and prowled to Dumbledore's office. Surprisingly, the gargoyle leapt aside without even hearing the password and Harry was able to climb the stairs until he reached the door. He knocked on it with his paw. "Come in." Dumbledore's voice called.

Harry turned the door handle with a fair amount of difficulty then entered and shed the cloak.

"Might I ask that you show me who I am talking to?" Dumbledore inquired with a raised eyebrow. Unable to speak, and unwilling to release his squeaking prisoner, Harry called all his forms until he was a chimera. "Ah, thank you Harry." Harry nodded and returned to panther shape. "I assume that is Peter?" Harry nodded and Dumbledore got out his wand, "I imagine he does not taste wonderful; you may drop him if you wish."

Harry chuckled, the loud rumbling purr caused Pettigrew to tremble and Harry laid the rat on a chair.

Before he could so much as twitch a whisker, Dumbledore had stunned the rat and Harry became human. "I found him coming out of a passage that led to Hogwarts, near the one-eyed with statue."

"I see, not one I am familiar with. Well, I am sure the Ministers would like to know about him, shall I drop him off? Or you?"

"Could you?" Harry asked, "It's not that I don't have time, I just—want to avoid questions."

Dumbledore smiled, "And the press?" Coloring slightly, Harry nodded. "I will drop him off, and who knows, Sirius might be cleared by morning." Harry smiled.

"Thanks Professor."

"You're welcome Harry."

As Harry put a hand on the door, he asked one more question, "H-has Professor Splikvin gotten any better?"

The headmaster's eyes grew sad, he seemed older than ever. "Unfortunately, no. Neither has Severus."

Harry's shoulders slumped and he left, pocketing his cloak before teleporting to the infirmary at Headquarters.

Splikvin was still shuddering and sweating, Snape was till silent, rigid, and awake. He ignored the two house elves trying to give him food, and the small cat meowing beside him. When Madam Pomfrey spoke to him, he didn't answer.

Harry now felt worse than before, something he hadn't thought possible, and left.

Coming Up:

Cursed or No?

Freedom and Fights

Then:

News