Chapter 30 – Expect the Unexpected

Harry distracted himself as good as he could for the rest of the day, but still the minutes seemed to stretch endlessly, no matter what he did. he went into the library first for some last-minute researches, but noticed rather quickly that he was not able to focus on anything. He took a walk outside, but the weather was not really good and from the distance Harry could already see that Hagrid was not in his hut. He had not been there for most of the summer, much to Harry's regret, but everybody had been very secretive about where he had gone to. Harry only knew that he had been searching for a herd of hippogriffs in which to wilder out Buckbeak, but for one that could not take weeks, and Harry guessed that this was not a task that needed everybody else to be so secretive about it. No, he guessed that the groundskeeper and Care of Magical Creatures professor was away on Order business.

After a long inner debate, Harry went back into the castle and slowly walked up to the infirmary. There was nobody in the big room as he entered, so he slowly stepped up to Remus' bed and stuck his head around the curtains. Remus was sitting up in bed, still visibly exhausted, a copy of the Daily Prophet lying on the blanket in front of him. He looked up as he noticed Harry's presence and smiled at him.

"Harry, do come over."

Harry smiled and pulled up a chair, sitting down next to the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

Remus shrugged and with slow and careful movements began folding up the paper. "All right. Madam Pomfrey gave me a couple of potions, at least I'm not feeling all that weak anymore. What about you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably on his chair, not quite daring to look up at Remus. He knew that it was ridiculous, but he had the feeling that if he looked straight at him, Remus would know what Harry was planning. He didn't like to break the promise he had given to his former teacher, but right now Harry simply saw no other way to save Remus and bring Sirius back.

"Well, nothing really interesting happened since this morning, if that's what you mean. It's getting a bit boring here after a while." Hesitantly, he lifted his head and looked into the general direction of Remus' face. "You're going to cut him off tomorrow, aren't you?", he asked, his voice sombre now.

Remus flinched a bit at Harry's choice of words, but he nodded.

"Albus and I talked to Severus for quite some time earlier. There is a potion – well, a poison, actually – which Severus will give to me. It should arrest all vital functions until Severus injects the antidote. Hopefully, that should break the connection." He hesitated for a moment, then he breathed in deeply. "I'm sorry, Harry. I wish there was another way."

Harry shook his head. "It's not that. I mean…it is that, to a certain degree, but that's not the real reason why I just asked you about it."

"Then what is the reason?"

"Do you think that you can handle being poisoned right now? What Madam Pomfrey said this morning didn't sound too good."

Remus smiled sadly, though Harry was still refusing to look at him and thusly didn't see it.

"I admit that I'm not at my best right now. But before Severus gives me the poison, Madam Pomfrey is going to have her way with me. By tomorrow noon, I'm going to be filled to the rim with Pepper-Up Potions and Strengthening Solutions, so that it shouldn't be a problem." He gestured to a tray that stood against the wall on the other side of the bed. It was filled with small bottles of different colours, some of which Harry recognised, some of which he didn't. He frowned.

"She's going to give you all of those?"

Remus chuckled. "I think she'll give me a thorough selection of those, depending on my condition tomorrow morning. But not all of them, at least I hope not. At the moment, Poppy is down in the dungeons, discussing ingredients and possible inter-, cross- and counter reactions of potions and poisons with Severus. It's quite a professional challenge to both of them, I imagine."

"Sounds as if you were their guinea-pig."

Remus shook his head and sat up a bit straighter in his bed. "It's not that bad, Harry. Of course this is no standard medical procedure, but the both of them know very well what they are doing. Albus is not only just a little qualified in the field, as well. I'm in good hands here, I trust the three of them to make this work."

Harry still wasn't entirely convinced, but there was nothing he could do about that now. If things went well, maybe Remus would not even have to undergo that procedure tomorrow. If things went well. It all depended on Dobby and Ron now, and if Harry truly managed to get into the Ministry, then he'd have to make sure that everything was straightened out before Snape gave the poison to Remus.

Remus noticed that Harry drifted off with his thoughts, and after a moment he put a hand on Harry's arm and squeezed it gently.

"I know that this is hard, Harry. Give it time."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "Just see to it that you get out of this alive, will you?"

Remus smiled slightly. "It might be buried deep inside of me, but I'm still a Marauder, Harry. And no Marauder would allow Severus Snape to be the one to end his life. It sounds easier said than done, but don't you worry overly much about it. It'll all go well."

Except that when Dumbledore, Remus and Snape were through with their little scheme, Sirius would no longer be there. Harry didn't hold a grudge against Remus for making that decision, he had thought about it for long enough to understand his former teacher's reasons and to realise that Remus wasn't taking this decision lightly. But still, at the mere thought that by tomorrow afternoon all chances at saving Sirius would be wasted, Harry felt anger flare up inside of him. That anger was directed at nobody in particular, rather at the world and its unfairness as a whole, but still it was there, constantly nagging at him somewhere deep down inside.

He remained sitting at Remus' bedside for about half an hour longer, chatting about this and that with his former teacher, both carefully avoiding to mention Sirius or the following day in general. But it was obvious that Remus was exhausted and tired despite the potions Madam Pomfrey had given him, so Harry decided to leave before he'd wear Remus down even further.

"I'll come back tomorrow morning, if that's okay", he said as he got up from the chair. Remus smiled and nodded.

"Of course it's okay, Harry. Promise me that you won't spend the rest of the evening brooding, though."

Harry was already about to break one promise he had given Remus, but considering everything he had planned for the remaining evening, he was sure that he'd not have much time to think or brood about anything.

"I promise. Until tomorrow, Remus."

"Until tomorrow, Harry."

Harry turned and left the infirmary, deeply lost in thought. He was so close, he simply could not give up now. Maybe everything would turn for the better soon, he only had to believe firmly in it. Rather aimlessly, Harry strolled through the castle until his steps took him back to Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady smiled at him and – without bothering to ask for a password – swung aside and let Harry in. This was a behaviour she had started to show as of late. She was always inclined to chat a little when Harry came in and out of the common room, but already a few days ago she had stopped asking him for a password, commenting it with the words that aside from him and Remus, nobody came to Gryffindor Tower anyway, and she'd ask for the right password if somebody else happened to come by. It was fine with Harry, the password hadn't changed since he had arrived at Hogwarts, and constantly mumbling 'Gillyweed' at the Fat Lady didn't really make sense, that he had to agree with. So he simply smiled at the Fat Lady, walked into the common room and sank down on a sofa in front of the fireplace. Despite the fact that it was summer, a fire was burning merrily, but Harry had the feeling that it was not giving off any heat. Probably some sort of spell, Harry had never paid any attention to it before. Not that he spent much thought about it now, not really. His mind was drifting to and fro between everything that had happened throughout the past days, guessing what would happen in the days that were still to come. If Harry really managed to do what he intended to do, then Sirius might be back with him in a few days. But Harry pushed those thoughts away as quickly as they came. He wanted, no craved to have his godfather back, but it would only hurt him far worse if he allowed himself to look forward to it now and then have that imaginary bubble burst.

With a sigh, Harry heaved himself out of his seat and walked up into his dormitory. He opened the trunk at the foot end of his bed, knelt down in front of it and took out the notes he had made on everything he had researched so far. He'd go through them again, at least it would provide a distraction until…well, until either something happened or not. He was about to close his trunk again, but then his eyes caught something in the bottom corner and he stopped short. After a long moment of hesitation, he fully opened the lid of the trunk again, cleared some clothes and books aside and took out the small parcel that had caught his attention. Slowly, as if he was not entirely sure whether he was doing the right thing, he opened the wrapping and revealed the shards that had once been the two-way mirror Sirius had given him. Harry felt tears rise to his eyes and suppressed a choked sob. If only he had used the mirror the night Voldemort had tried to lure him into the Department of Mysteries, then he'd have been able to make sure that Sirius was in fact safe. But no, stupid as he was, Harry had not thought about the mirror, he had blindly run into the Department of Mysteries himself, casing Sirius to follow him and die there.

It was all his fault, only his fault that Sirius had died, of course it was his responsibility to bring him back now. If he had done the right thing that night, Sirius would still be alive, but now all Harry could do was stare into the shards of the mirror at his own broken reflection and cry at the missed opportunity. For long minutes he knelt like that in front of his trunk, then he wrapped the mirror up again, put it on the bottom of his trunk and placed the books and robes above it. There was no use in crying over things that could not be changed anymore now, now it was the time to act and try to make them undone. He closed the lid of the trunk with an audible thud, got up and picked up his notes, then he went downstairs again.

As he descended the stairs, there was a crackling pop and Dobby appeared in the room. Harry felt a sudden cold rush flow through his veins, and he swallowed hard before he forced himself to descend farther into the room and make his presence known. Dobby was perpetually moving, as usual, but there was a slightly subdued and nervous quality to his behaviour right now which Harry had not seen before in the house-elf. He stepped up to Dobby and half-sat down on the lean of one of the sofas. Dobby turned towards him, his huge eyes growing even wider.

"Dobby has been searching for Master Harry Potter."

"Hello Dobby", Harry replied nervously. "I didn't know if you'd come by today."

Dobby sighed deeply and shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes restlessly straying to and fro, never resting on Harry for longer than a few beats.

"Dobby has thought about what Harry Potter asked of him. About taking the book from Professor Snape."

Harry only nodded wordlessly while Dobby continued to hop from one foot to the other.

"Dobby does not like the idea of taking something from a professor. Dobby likes his work at Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore has been very kind to Dobby. He has given him a job here and is paying Dobby for his work here. Dobby does not want to lose his job here."

Harry's heart sank at those words. He should have known that Dobby's loyalty would outweigh his desire to help him, yet he had still hoped that the house-elf would be willing to help him. His whole plan to bring Sirius back was based on the book, he needed the book to go into the Ministry and bring Sirius back. And now Dobby wouldn't help him. But he knew that he couldn't blame the house-elf for his decision, so he forced himself not to show his disappointment.

"It's all right Dobby. I understand your reasons, just forget that I ever mentioned it. I can't ask something of you that goes against your work ethics."

Dobby remained silent for a moment, then he slowly shook his head.

"Harry Potter really needs the book from Professor Snape, doesn't he?"

Harry nodded with a sigh. "Yes, I do. But don't you worry about that. I understand why you can't help me."

He bit his lip and attempted to smile at the house-elf, but somehow he just couldn't manage a convincing smile.

Dobby sighed deeply, then he reached behind his back and pulled a cloth-bound parcel out from underneath the tea-towel that served him as clothing. Harry hadn't seen the package behind his back, but he guessed that the house-elf had somehow disguised the bulge on his back. Dobby held the package out towards Harry, who took it with slightly shaking hands.

"What is that?"

Dobby sighed deeply. "Professor Snape is very busy tonight. Dobby was told to tell Harry Potter that Professor Snape would not have time for Harry Potter's lesson tonight. Dobby thought if Professor Snape was busy, he might not notice that the book is gone. If Professor Snape does not look into the cabinet, he will not notice that somebody took the book. But Harry Potter has to promise to give Dobby the book back tomorrow so that Dobby can put it back."

Harry nodded numbly, staring from the cloth covered parcel up to Dobby and back again. He was speechless, after how Dobby had reacted earlier, he'd have expected anything like this now.

"I promise, Dobby. Wow, this is…I don't know what to say. Thank you so much, Dobby. And I promise I will bring the book back tomorrow morning."

Dobby still looked uncomfortable.

"If Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore find out that Dobby took the book, Dobby will have to leave Hogwarts."

Harry didn't think that Dumbledore would fire Dobby on the spot, but he could understand the house-elf's concerns. To Dobby, this job meant everything, and he had really swallowed his professional pride to help Harry. The elf's loyalty to Harry was extremely touching, Harry only hoped that he would not disappoint this trust.

"Nobody will find out that you took the book, Dobby. Even if Professor Snape notices that it's gone, I'll take the blame for everything. I will keep you out of it, and nobody will ever get to know that you were involved."

Dobby frowned. "Professor Snape will know that Harry Potter didn't open the cabinet. It was strong magic that had it locked."

Harry nodded. "I know. But nobody knows that it's been you, either. I'll think of something in case I get caught, but whatever happens, I will keep you out of this. I promise that you won't be blamed for anything."

That seemed to take at least a little weight off Dobby's shoulders and he started bouncing up and down again.

"Dobby hopes that the book helps Harry Potter."

"I will have a look at it, but from what you told me, I'm sure that it's the right book. I cannot thank you enough for this."

Dobby shook his head. "Harry Potter doesn't need to thank Dobby."

"Yes, I need to. You've done something extraordinary for me, something you needn't have done. I can't thank you enough."

A beaming smile flashed across the elf's face. "Dobby was glad that he could help. Dobby doesn't want Master Lupin to come to any harm, Master Lupin has always been very kind to Dobby."

Harry smiled shakily, and Dobby mirrored that smile.

"I'll come down into the kitchens first thing tomorrow morning to return the book to you. Thank you, Dobby."

Another huge smile split the elf's face, then Dobby gave a small bow and wished Harry a good night. He snapped his fingers, and with a crackling pop, he vanished as quickly as he had come earlier. Harry took a firm hold on the parcel Dobby had given him, as if it might vanish if he let go, then he turned and walked up the stairs into his dormitory. For some reason, he didn't want to open the book down here in the common room, where theoretically somebody could come in at any moment. Nobody had been in here during the past weeks, only Remus and Harry himself, but still Harry felt slightly better as he closed the door to his dormitory behind himself and sat down on his bed with the curtains drawn tightly closed.

With slightly shaking fingers, he undid the cloth-wrapping and carefully pulled out the book. It was every bit like Dobby had described it. An old, leather bound volume that already looked a little worse for wear. Though it was smaller than he had expected, roughly eight to six inches, and not very thick, either. There might be about fifty to eighty pages in there, it was impossible to tell because the pages were thicker than the pages in an average book. In some places, especially on the book's spine, the leather was already cracked from use, but the symbol on the front cover was clearly visible and not in the least damaged by age or use. Harry carefully traced the outer circle around the pentagram with his index finger, marvelling at the precisely drawn lines that seemed to have been etched into the leather. Harry stared at the pentagram for some moments longer, then he carefully turned the cover of the book with bated breath. This was it, now he'd find out if this book had been worth all the trouble Dobby had taken.

The first page was empty, so Harry carefully turned it. There were words on the second page, hand written, just like Dobby had told him, black ink written in a spidery, but clearly readable script that looked fitting for a person who had never seen the twentieth century. A small, leaden lump formed in Harry's stomach as he realised that while he could read the words clearly, he could not understand them. They were written in Latin, a language Harry had never mastered. He stared at the words for endless minutes as if they would start to make sense if he only focussed long enough on them, but they didn't. With a disappointed sigh, Harry turned the page.

The next page was written in the same spidery script and the same black ink, and Harry already wanted to close the book in disappointment when he suddenly realised that this time, he could read the words and make sense of them. Harry stared at the page for a little longer, then turned the page back and stared at the words there, turned the page again in comparison. But it didn't change. While the first page of the book was written in Latin, the second page was written in English. Old English, obviously, some of the words looked rather funny to Harry, but it was English all the same. Quickly, he thumbed randomly through the remaining pages as fast as he dared with the pages as loose as they were. As far as he could see, they were in English as well. Maybe the first page had been the title of the book or something like that. Some parts in the later text were not in English, either, but those could be incantations or something else entirely. He decided to worry about those parts later, turned back to the first page of text, and started to read.

Ten minutes later, Harry scrambled up from his bed to get some parchment and a quill, then he sat down again and continued writing, taking careful notes from time to time.

Two hours later, Harry closed the last page of the book, turned it around, and started from the beginning again.

It was four in the afternoon when Harry finished with his third reading through the book, closed it and carefully wrapt it up again. He put the wrapped parcel under his pillow, climbed from the bed and closed the curtains behind himself again. In his hand, he held the parchment on which he had taken his notes, and with purposeful strides, he walked down the stairs into the common room and out the portrait hole. The book hadn't at all been what he had expected, yet at the same time it had given him the answers he wanted to have. He had a much clearer picture in his mind now, and he also knew that he needed some supplies. Supplies that were easy to get by, even without involving anybody else into it. But first, he'd go down into the kitchens and grab a bite to eat. He hadn't eaten anything today, he realised as he thought about it. This morning, he had been too worried about Remus, and throughout the whole day there had been things that had distracted him. But now his stomach was announcing its need for nourishment rather loudly, and Harry knew that the house-elves would only be too happy to provide him with a solution to that problem.

Harry was actually a bit glad that Dobby was not in the kitchens when he arrived there. He wasn't quite sure how he would confront Dobby now, after he had pulled the friendly house-elf into such a scheme. But Dobby wasn't there, so Harry sat down at one of the tables and dug into the chicken and ham pie that the house-elves served him. For dessert, he had a delicious strawberry tart and a glass of milk, then he thanked the elves and left the kitchens again to get his provisions.

Harry hadn't been strolling around the castle very much during his stay here, at least not the parts which were normally used for classes during the school year. It felt strange, walking through those empty corridors now when Harry had never known them to be empty during the school year, except from maybe at night during one of his strolls under the invisibility cloak. The classrooms, too, were empty, the chairs put up onto the tables so that the floors could be cleaned more easily, and Harry's steps echoed hollowly through the rooms and hallways. It was easy to find chalk, the first classroom already held far more than Harry would need. He pocketed a few pieces, some in the pockets of his robes, others in the pockets of his jeans. Just to make sure. He didn't plan on shedding his robes, but one could never know. Harry didn't want his plan to be destroyed by a missing piece of chalk.

The candles were a bit more difficult to find. Most classrooms had chandeliers filled with thick candles that hung from the ceiling, but Harry didn't want to construct something that enabled him to climb up to the chandeliers. So he kept on searching in classrooms and along corridors, until he found a supply of new candles in a storage closet in Flitwick's classroom. He pocketed twice the number that he was going to need, then pulled out the parchment again to check what else he needed. He needed a knife, and as the pocket knife Sirius had given him had been destroyed some months earlier, he had taken one from the kitchens with him earlier. He still needed something to light the candles, but that would not be difficult to find. In case of an emergency, he still could light the candles with an Incendio charm, after all he was about to perform illegal magic during the holiday, anyway. But he'd rather not attract any attention to himself if it wasn't necessary, so he'd have to find a matchbox. He didn't find one, and in the end had to make another detour to the kitchens to get one from the house-elves. It was easier said than done, though. House-elves were able to light fires with a snap of their fingers, matches and matchboxes were an alien creation to them. Harry had to explain the concept a number of times until one of the elves, who were seemingly enjoying the task laid before them, managed to conjure up a box of matches that actually worked. Harry tried it out, pocketed it and thanked the elves for their help. Finally, he had everything he had searched for. Now he could only go back to Gryffindor Tower and wait for Ron.

His pockets weighed heavily with the candles as he climbed the stairs. He'd have to put those things into his backpack later on, though he didn't fancy the thought of carrying the tools he needed around in a bag that could be easily lost. But he could hardly walk around with his pockets laden with candles, either, so the backpack seemed the most reasonable solution right now.

Finally, Harry reached the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady was snoring softly in her picture frame, and Harry had to wrap his knuckles lightly against it to wake her. She made a bit show out of waking up, smacked her lips a few times and groaned as if Harry had risen her from the deepest of slumbers, but when she finally opened her eyes and looked at Harry, she merely smiled and let him in without a word. Harry entered the common room and emptied his pockets onto the nearest table from the entrance. He didn't take the time to look around the room after his arrival, and neither did he notice that he was not alone in the room. He stood with his face still towards the wall where the entrance was and slowly pulled the candles out of his pockets when suddenly the prickle of the hairs in the back of his neck told him that somebody was standing right behind him.

"Harry James Potter! You are not serious about this are you? This is illegal, this could get you killed! Have you completely lost your mind?"