Thank you everyone who's reading. Hope you are enjoying the story. Just two chapters to go. lol, Severusgirl

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE SEARCH FOR HERMIONE

The hours and days ticked by and still Hermione was missing. Dumbledore had asked the various heads of houses to explain to their charges what had happened and to give a basic assurance that everything possible was being done to find her.

The whole school went into a kind of mourning. Only the Slytherins were cheerfully carrying on as normal, and in a weird way, Harry preferred this approach rather than acting as if Hermione were already dead.

Lessons carried on as usual, but Hermione's absence was felt every time a question was asked and she wasn't there to answer.

Unbelievably, Easter arrived. Hermione had been missing for five weeks.

Ron and Harry stayed at school for the holidays. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were busy with work for the Order and were at Grimauld Place. Harry didn't particularly want to go back there.

He and Ron talked endlessly about Hermione. Feeling helpless and frustrated, they spent their days hitting a quaffle half-heartedly backwards and forwards to each other.

Ronnie had told Ron they should put their romance on hold - at least until there was news of Hermione. She could tell Ron's mind was elsewhere and understood complete how he was feeling. Ron was reluctant at first, but gradually came to realise she was right.

Then in the first week back they were in their final lesson of the day - Charms - when the door opened and Professor McGonagall entered the classroom. She walked briskly over to Professor Flitwick and whispered something. Then they both huddled together, their backs to the class.

Everyone looked at everyone else, wondering what was going on.

Eventually the Professors turned to face the class.

"Everyone, I'd like you to...erm...turn to page...erm...oh dear...page fifty-two...and read." Professor Flitwick was very flustered.

"Mr. Potter; Mr. Weasley. I'd like a word with you in my office," said Professor McGonagall.

Harry and Ron exchanged looks as they gathered up their things. Harry was concious of every eye upon them as they walked from the room.

"Is it about Hermione, Professor?" said Ron as they followed her through the corridors. "Is she OK?"

Professor McGonagall did not reply and remained silent until they reached her office.

"Please take a seat, both of you."

Her voice sounded flat. Harry thought it didn't sound like a voice that would be speaking good news.

Harry looked at Ron. He was pale.

"I have to inform you both," she said, leaning on the back of her chair for support. "Because I would rather you heard it from me, than idle gossip..."

Harry's stomach gave a lurch. He could feel anxiety creeping up through his veins. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear what was about to be said.

"...that the Ministry has received reports that a young woman's body has been found by their Investigators. Her injuries correspond to those associated with Lord Voldemort. The Headmaster has gone to identify the body..." There was a little catch in Professor McGonagall's voice. She sat down abruptly in the chair, pulled a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and covered her mouth.

Harry sat there numb.

Only one thought went around and around in his head,

He's murdering everyone I care about.

Harry couldn't tell whether ten minutes had passed or an hour. Professor McGonagall had stopped sniffing and had begun pacing the room. She made no indication they were to leave, and Harry had no intention of doing so until they received news.

A house-elf arrived carrying a tray laden with sandwiches, cakes and drinks. She put the tray on the desk.

"Just in case you is hungry," she said in a mournful whisper and disappeared.

"You boys go ahead," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm not..."

Only Ron moved forward to take a sandwich. Harry watched him eat it as he stared blankly at the wall. He was convinced Ron hadn't tasted so much as a crumb.

The sky outside was now deep indigo. Harry thought it must be about six or seven o'clock. They had been in Professor McGonagall's office for hours.

As he gazed at the sky, something that looked like a glowing red arrow appeared, quivering outside the window. Professor McGonagall was pacing across the opposite side of the room and hadn't seen it.

Harry jumped up from his seat.

"Professor...look!"

They all turned and Professor McGonagall ran to the window and opened it. She snatched the arrow and with trembling hands, broke open the spine and shook it. A piece of parchment fell out.

She unrolled the parchment and read, silently. She gave a cry and put her handkerchief to her mouth again.

Harry and Ron moved closer and tried to read what was written, but the words made no sense to Harry. They seemed to be in a different language.

"Prof...Professor?" said Harry in a trembling voice.

She turned to them both. Tears tumbled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

"It isn't her," she said, thickly. "It isn't her."

"BERTHA JORKINS' BODY FOUND"

screamed the headlines of the Daily Prophet the next morning.

"Ministry officials confirmed last night that the body of a young woman found washed up on a beach in Suffolk is that of missing Ministry worker, Bertha Jorkins.


"Miss Jorkins, who disappeared almost three years ago whilst holidaying in Albania, had sustained injuries associated with 'You-Know-Who'. Her body was identified by the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was also present as it was first feared the body may have been that of missing student, Hermione Granger.


"Whilst I am relieved the body is not that of Miss Granger, my heart goes out to Miss Jorkins' family," said Professor Dumbledore in a statement last night. "This tragic discovery will serve as a reminder to us all of the evil we are up against."


Ginny stopped reading and put down the paper.

Everyone around them on the breakfast table was silent. Harry wondered if the same thought was running through their heads as it was his - that it could so easily have been a different headline and they might all have been here this morning grieving for Hermione.

"A tiny bit of me wishes it had been Hermione," Ron later confided to Harry. "At least she'd be safe from him. But she's still with him. He could be torturing her and no one can help her."

Harry...sort of knew what Ron meant.

It was a few weeks later that something promising happened. Harry and Ron had just finished a session of Quiddich practise when Ronnie came running across the grass towards them, waving her hand. Ron's face lit up and he waved back.

"Ron...Harry..." she gasped. "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you in his office right away...I think it's about Hermione..."

Professors McGonagall and Snape arrived at the office soon after Harry and Ron.

"I'll get straight to the point," said Professor Dumbledore. "We have received a message from the Minister for Magic. It seems the Ministry has cause to believe Lord Voldemort to be at a location in London. Of course I shall go there as soon as possible, but I wanted to inform you all first. Severus, I may need your assistance."

Snape bowed towards Dumbledore.

"Sir...?" said Harry.

"You are about to ask if you may come along as well," said Dumbledore. "The answer is no. You must stay here."

"But Sir..."

"Harry, you know the danger. You know what a confrontation with Voldemort could mean. I cannot allow..."

"It has to happen sometime, why not now?"

"I cannot allow you deliberately to put yourself in danger..."

"Not even for Hermione?"

"Let me go then," said Ron.

"No. Both of you, listen to me. Let the Order deal with this. If we find you can help in any way whatsoever, I give you my word I will call for you."

Harry knew it was no use carrying on pleading. He nodded and resigned himself to a sleepless night of worry.

Sometimes the obvious has been staring you in the face all the time and it takes a tiny thing to make you realise it.

It was late. Harry, Ron and Neville had gone up to the dormitory and were getting ready for bed.

Neville was doing his nightly ritual of looking for something he'd mislaid. He'd pulled out the drawer of his bedside table and was now kneeling on the floor looking under his bed.

"What've you lost tonight?" asked Ron.

"'Roots and Their Magical Properties'" said Neville. "I thought I'd put it on my bedside table this morning."

"Yeah, well those house-elves get a bit over-enthusiastic with their tidying sometimes," said Ron.

"Have you checked your trunk?" suggested Harry.

"No. Better do that I suppose." Neville went to the end of his bed and opened the lid of his trunk. "I can't see it," he said, rummaging through the untidy contents.

Harry then caught sight of something as it glimmered in the candlelight.

"Neville, why don't you ask the mirror where your book is?"

Neville stopped still and then looked up at Harry.

"Because I'm an idiot and forgot about the mirror," he said, sheepishly.

Neville took hold of the wooden handle and pulled the mirror free from the tangle of items.

"Please find 'Roots and Their Magical Properties'"

Harry peered over Neville's shoulder at the mirror. There was a kind of spiral whirl of silver and then a picture appeared in the glass. It was their dormitory and there, prominently in the foreground, was the book - straight and tidy under Neville's pillow.

"Oh yes, I remember now. I was reading it in bed last night. I must have shoved it under the pillow just before I fell asleep."

Harry gave a little smile and looked at Ron.

Ron was standing with his hands on his pyjama jacket. He was midway through doing up a button. He was staring wide-eyed and wide-mouthed at Neville.

"What?" said Neville.

"The...the mirror," gasped Ron. "It finds things!"

"Yes, clever, isn't it?" said Neville.

Harry frowned at Ron. What was the matter with him? He'd seen Neville use the mirror before. What was the big deal?

"Does it just find objects, or can it find...people?"

Realisation dawned on Harry and Neville at the same time.

"I don't know!" shouted Neville in excitement.

"Well ask it!"

"Oh, erm..."

"Give it here..." Ron snatched the mirror from Neville. "Please find Hermione!" said Ron, loudly.

The three of them crowded around the mirror, watching the spiralling silver.

Suddenly there was a picture. A room. It looked as big as a classroom, but bleak and dark. In the middle of the room was a black iron bed with a single blanket and a person asleep underneath.

"Neville, stop breathing, you're misting up the glass," said Ron.

"It's her! It must be." said Harry. "But where is she? It's no good being able to see her if we don't know where it is."

"Look around the room. See if there's a clue." said Neville.

Harry thought his eyes would pop out of his head as he strained them in desperation to see anything, anything at all that might tell them where Hermione was.

"There's nothing," said Ron, deflated. "Nothing."

"What about the door?" suggested Harry. "Look at the lock. It's really old and really huge."

They all peered harder. They stayed silent for a few moments, and then Neville said,

"It looks like...but it can't be."

"WHAT?" shouted Harry and Ron.

"Well, it looks like the kind of lock they use at Gringott's."

Professor McGonagall touched the glass of the mirror gently with her index finger, as though to stroke Hermione's sleeping form.

"I shall send the information to Professor Dumbledore at once. It may help in his search."

"You think she might be at Gringott's, Professor?" asked Ron.

"It is a possibility we cannot afford to rule out," she said. "There are many secret passageways and tunnels running underneath the City of London."

"Professor, the Prophecy says..."

"I am fully aware of what the Prophecy says, Mr. Potter, which is why the Headmaster wishes you to remain here."

"But if they are going to rescue Hermione, they'll probably have to fight Voldemort. They can't kill him - I have to - so I've got to go."

"No, you do not!"

"But they're in danger..."

"They will be in further danger if they have to look out for you at the same time, Mr. Potter. Now, I suggest you return to your beds. Hopefully by morning we shall have news."

"Harry?" Ron's voice whispered from the other side of Harry's bed curtains.

"Yeah?"

"Neville's asleep. Let's go."

Harry pulled back the covers and got out of bed. He was already dressed in jeans and the sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him at Christmas. Ron was also dressed.

Neither had spoken a word about this plan. They both just knew they would not be able to sit passively, waiting for morning.

They grabbed their brooms and made their way quietly down the stairs and out the main door.

"Which way is London?" said Ron.

"South. So, that way..."

They kicked off from the ground and flew over the lake.

It had been a warm day, but now the temperature had dropped and there was moisture in the air. Harry shivered and thought about the long flight ahead. Who would be there? And how would they get into the Bank?

"Harry! Look!" Ron shouted across to him.

Harry looked towards the ground in the direction Ron was pointing.

Four shimmering forms were gliding effortlessly beneath them, shadowing their flight. Harry felt his heart and spirits lift as he watched the snow-white wings spread out across the lake and the silvery gowns rippling in the breeze.

One of the figures turned and beckoned them. Harry looked at Ron and then both descended.

They were Sirens.

"Harry Potter," one of them sang. "We have come to assist you. Let us take you to London. We are far quicker than broomsticks. Sit between my wings - and be prepared. We shall follow the water. My sisters will take care of your brooms."

The Siren moved up, underneath Harry and he felt his body supported by something as soft as a feather bed. He glanced at Ron who was doing exactly the same.

A wispy hand took his broom and whisked it away.

"Hold tight!"

There was a booming noise in his ears as the Siren accelerated. She skimmed over the land as close to water as possible. It seemed only minutes before Harry spotted the familiar London skyline and the landmarks of Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament. As they flew past Big Ben's tower, Harry noticed the clock's hands pointing to twenty minutes past midnight.

They flew along the middle of the river Thames, so close to the water, Harry thought he could lean down and touch it.

They flew past St. Paul's Cathedral and swooped to a halt on the muddy banks of the Thames just outside the Tower of London.

"Here," said the Siren, moving across to a very well-concealed grille in the wall. "Through here is a tunnel which leads to his lair. Beware, there are many tunnels that lead to many places - one as far as Caverna Caeli in the lake at Hogwarts. Follow the sign that looks like a pair of scales."

"Thank you," said Harry.

"His follower attacked our sister, Flight" she said. "We are glad to give you any help we can. Good luck, Harry Potter."

The Sirens disappeared across the waves.

"That was pretty bloody fantastic, wasn't it?" said Ron, looking dazed.

"Come on, let's go."

They turned to the grille which looked just big enough for them to squeeze through.

"I don't fancy crawling along a tunnel if it's only that big," said Ron.

"Neither do I, but it's the only way," said Harry.

They prised the grille away from the wall. It screeched open on two rusty hinges.

"I'll go first. Lumos!" Harry stuck his head through the hole and shone his wand around inside. "It's OK," he said, bringing his head out again. "It's high enough to stand up in, if you bend your head."

They both climbed in and Ron closed the grille behind them.

The corridor looked and smelt just like the one in Caverna Caeli, only instead of grey rock and sand, there was a chalky substance on the ground and the walls also had great chunks of white in them.

There was only one direction to go.

"We have to go underneath the Tower?" said Ron.

"Suppose so - at least it can't be far. Gringott's can only be a mile or so from here."

Presently they came to a circular clearing with six corridors leading off in different directions.

"This one's got a kind of crescent moon on the wall," said Ron. "And this one's got a ship."

"I've got a dragon - bet that leads to the gold mine in Wales...Hey, this is the one we want." Harry pointed to the carving of a pair of scales.

Using Harry's wand to light the way, they proceeded down the corridor for quite a few minutes until they came to a corner. Ron stopped, grasping Harry's arm to hold him back.

"Hang on," he whispered. "I thought I heard something."

They both stood absolutely still, holding their breath and listening. At first, there was nothing, but then Harry heard it. The low rumble of people talking quietly in the distance.

Ron walked to the bend in the corridor and tentatively put his head around the corner. Then he returned to Harry.

"There's another grille, like the one we came through. There's a light, but not a bright one. You'd better put your wand out."

Harry did - and they were plunged into darkness.

Creeping around the corner, Harry could see the black waffle-like grille with a dull yellow light shining beyond. Every now and then they heard the same low whispering echoing down the corridor and the shadows of people as they moved around.

As quietly as they could, they drew nearer to the grille and although the voices became louder the nearer they got, Harry still couldn't make out the words.

The grille was at chest level. They crouched down either side - Ron to the left and Harry to the right. They peered into a stark room with a heavy oak door on the opposite wall.

"We can get into the anti-chamber through that wall."

Harry recognised the voice of Dumbledore and breathed a sigh of relief.

"If he knows we are here, he'll be waiting for us," said a second voice which sounded very much like Lupin.

"That's a chance we have to take," said Dumbledore. "Hopefully we shall still be better prepared than he. Are you absolutely sure you are prepared for this, Severus? You are perhaps, in more danger than either of us."

"I am."

"Then..." Dumbledore's voice stopped suddenly and the room fell silent. Harry could sense movement in the room but could not see anything.

He was just wondering what his and Ron's next move should be, when a voice very close made them both jump.

"Harry, since you and Mr. Weasley are here, perhaps you would be good enough to join us?"

The grille swung open and Dumbledore's face appeared in the hole.

Feeling very stupid, Harry and Ron climbed out and faced Dumbledore, Lupin and Snape. Dumbledore looked at them gravely.

"I did not expect you so soon, Harry," he said. "Pray tell us how you came to be here?"

"The Sirens brought us," said Harry. He thought it was a straightforward answer but Lupin started forward and stopped at Dumbledore's side.

"You realise what this could mean, Dumbledore?" he said.

"Indeed I do, Remus," he replied, all the while looking directly at Harry.

"Then he must return to the school immediately."

"No, Sir!" Harry protested. "We have to be here. We have to help get Hermione."

"Absolutely not," said Lupin. "It is too dangerous. Tell him, Dumbledore..."

"Harry is aware of the dangers," Dumbledore replied.

"But the Prophecy - you know what it foretells."

"Indeed I do, Remus. And so does Harry."

"You can't mean to allow him to...he's a child for Merlin's sake!"

Dumbledore turned to Lupin.

"In a little over two months he will be an adult, Remus. I believe he knows his own mind." Dumbledore looked back at Harry. "Harry, if you think you are ready?"

"I am, Sir. Thank you."

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Me too, Sir."

"Then Remus, would you kindly open the wall?"

Lupin looked extremely put out. With his face showing grave misgivings, he turned to the right hand wall and pressed a panel.

The centre section of the wall glided effortlessly open. They went through into a room that looked very much like a church. It was lit with torches burning high on the walls and the reflection of the flames bounced off elaborately carved golden objects set towards the opposite end of the room.

They walked towards that end of the room where three wide but shallow steps led up to a kind of altar. There was a table covered in a rich black velvet cloth. A golden candelabra stood at either end. Each held six burning candles.

The wall beyond was draped in the same black velvet, but tied back, rather like Aunt Petunia's sitting room curtains. Where they parted, a wide door could be seen. It was black wood, panelled and studded with bolts.

Dumbledore turned to them.

"The only way to him and therefore Miss Granger, is through this door. The chamber beyond is charmed rather like Hogwarts and cannot be entered by any other means. The method of entry means he will know we are coming. I suspect he is waiting for us."

"What...what's in there?" asked Ron.

"It is the Chamber of Justice," said Lupin. "It is where the goblins have decided the fate of their criminals for many thousands of years. Centuries ago, even the British Muggles knew about it and built their most feared prison above it - the Tower of London. Many Muggles were imprisoned there and never heard of again. This is where they were brought."

"But we started at the Tower of London," said Harry, puzzled. "We walked underneath it and away, towards Gringott's."

Lupin shook his head.

"You walked around in a circle, Harry. The tunnels are deceiving. You can walk many miles in them and go nowhere and yet you may walk only a few moments and be many hundreds of miles away."

"Harry; Ron. I will understand completely if you wish to leave," said Dumbledore. "For once we go through this door, there is no easy way out. And he is in there."

"Yes, but so is Hermione," said Ron, forcibly.

Dumbledore nodded and looked at Harry. Harry nodded.

"Severus? Remus?"

Snape and Lupin both gave a little bow of their heads.

"Very well. We shall proceed. The protection of Aradia be with you all."

Dumbledore turned to the table where an ornate golden rod lay between the two candelabras. Harry could see it was heavy - Dumbledore needed both hands to lift it. He held it, rather like a javelin, at shoulder height and thrust it at the door. A booming echoing clang shook the door and reverberated around the room. Dumbledore drew back the rod and hit the door again, and then a third time.

"Well, if he wasn't expecting us, he is now," whispered Ron to Harry.

The door opened slowly, heavily. Harry and Ron gasped.

The room beyond was vast - easily twice as big as the Great Hall at school. The ceiling - as high as any cathedral Harry had ever seen - was a huge white dome which shimmered and shifted as though reflecting something; and when Harry looked down, he saw an equally large circular lake with vapour billowing just above the surface.

In the middle of this 'lake' was a flat, round stone island, about eight feet across. It had three shallow steps which ran all around the edge and descended into the vapour.

There was a stone table set to the front of the island, it was shaped like a horseshoe which had been broken in half. Where the two halves parted stood a figure.

She was dressed in a floor-length black robe. A silver belt hung from her waist to the hem of the robe. Although too far away to be clearly visible, Harry knew that on the ends of the belt were two silver snakes heads.

Harry's immediate thought was how did Bellatrix escape from Azkaban again? - but this thought was only in his mind for a fraction of a second before he realised the woman he was looking at wasn't Bellatrix.

It was Hermione.

A/N - Aradia is a goddess who protects witches and wizards.

The idea of Dumbledore opening the door by hitting it with the golden rod was inspired by the tradition of Black Rod doing the very same thing when opening Parliament.

Emma Barrows - Thanks, Emma.

FemmeLoki - Just how much alcohol had you consumed when you wrote that last review? Hehehe. I have to hold my hands up and admit total ignorance to Star Wars, apart from the very first film, which I saw a very long time ago. Oh, and the 'I am your father' line. And no, that isn't going to happen!

Thouandl - I imagined that Ron would actually have more bulk than Snape by now and could really deliver a hefty punch. Although we haven't seen much of it, I played on the old cliché that redheads have tempers. I don't think it was balls, I think it was blind fury. And yes, I believe Snape would have killed Ron.

Queen of the Faeries - Yep, this chapter and one more, then all my fanfics are finished. We'll have to wait and see what inspiration HBP brings. I'm not sure where the flying idea came from, but it wouldn't surprise me if Snape turns out to be an unregistered animagus and can turn into a bat. It would certainly be a good way of him spying on Voldemort. Interesting that Deeble should write a similar scene. I'll have to check it out. Apologies forthe spelling mistakes. I didn't ask Jess to Beta this story because of the speed I planned to post - however careful I am, I dare say there will be more mistakes before the end.