The Seers' Truth: Beyond the Darkness
By Lady Lestrange
Chapter 3
Troublesome House Guests
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Disclaimer: All Potterverse belongs to JK Rowlings. No infringement is meant or implied. Thanks JK.
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Ginny had been at the Snow Castle for a week. Strange though it seemed, the days had taken on a sort of normalcy. She had classes, after a sort, with some of the Durmstrang students, although she wasn't at all sure that Dumbledore would approve of the curriculum or the teachers. She had only seen Snape once briefly in the time that she had been here and there was no time for conversation. She had not seen Voldemort at all except the first day when she spied him leaving Samara's room, and Samara was so watched it seemed like she was under guard. There was no chance for Ginny to visit her, but she learned via the Durmstrang rumor mill that Samara's condition had neither improved nor deteriorated in the last week.
Ginny had managed to keep Beatrice hidden for the most part, and no one was the wiser, except for Maura Rosier. Her snake, Koschei, had smelled Beatrice and wanted to make a snack of her just one day after she arrived. Beatrice was forced to transform back into a witch in front of Maura. Ginny came into the room to find them talking to one another.
"Fine," said Maura caustically. "Just one more house guest."
"I'm sorry," said Beatrice. "I didn't know where the portkey would take me when I went with my friends. I don't really want to be here. Will you help me? Do you know a way I could use to get back?"
"If you'll take Voldemort and Carman with you when you go, it might be worth the risk," said Maura, stroking her snake absently with her forefinger.
After that, Maura made a special effort to steer the curious away from Ginny's room and, of course, Ginny had the room warded well. In exchange for teaching Maura that ward, Maura had brought them extra food, but she couldn't get them out of the Snow Castle.
"The only floo that is open to the outside is the one in my parents' old bedroom," she had told them. "Voldemort is using that room now, and I don't think it's wise to try to break into it. You're welcome to try if you want to," she shrugged. "But I don't want any part of it. I think the easiest way to get Beatrice out of here is the same way she came in. Why don't you portkey with someone who is leaving?"
"Because," said Ginny, "we don't know anyone who is leaving."
"I'll keep my eyes open," Maura promised. "One less houseguest," she proclaimed irritably.
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The trio picked up their belongings and raced for the Hogwarts Express. The train began to move just seconds after they entered the train. There were no compartments empty so they joined a rather morose Fred and George who were sitting alone playing a rather sedate game of exploding snap.
After a while, George said, "Ron would you—and Hermione—floo to the burrow on Christmas day?"
"I planned to send an owl—"
Fred shook his head. "I don't know if we'll be back. We're going after her," he said softy. "I can't stand to think of her captive—"
Ron bit his lip. He hadn't told his brothers that Ginny used a portkey to leave of her own free will. Perhaps now was the time.
"There's something I have to tell you," said Ron.
"We're planning a rescue too," Hermione interrupted.
"But we're not sure if they want to be rescued," said Harry.
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As the train continued to head for Kings Cross Station, Harry rubbed his scar.
"Well," said Hermione, "The first thing we need to do is plan when and where we are going to meet. I think we should do it as soon as possible. With a little luck maybe we can have them home before the holidays are over."
"I want to come with you," said Neville.
The trio looked at him for a moment and then he continued. "Beatrice didn't leave me in Snape's room when I couldn't get my wand."
"Neville, we're not talking about Snape here," said Hermione. "I know you want to help, but—"
Harry was remembering Neville saying to him, "Do you think you could do an Unforgivable curse? There are some who deserve it." Remembering him bleeding. Remembering his telling Snape to take another memory when he, Harry Potter, would have quit. Remembering a lion patronus, strong and sure when he most needed it. He flinched at Hermione's tone of voice and stuck out his hand, grasping Neville's. "We're glad to have you," Harry said.
Neville nodded once.
The trio spent most of the time on the Hogwarts Express making plans to meet at Hermione's house. Because the twins had never been to Hermione's home, they couldn't Apparate there. Neville, like Ron, wasn't very good at Apparition yet, so Harry and the twins worked on portkeys. With their coaching, Hermione put the finishing touches on them by adding the intent to enter her kitchen.
"Now, my parents will be at work during the day, but if you are going to use the portkey when my parents are home, it would be best if you owled first."
"You know," said Harry, "we should think if we need anything else and do it now if we can."
"Portkey to the Riddle house?" suggested Hermione, if you still think that is where she is being held.
"Well, it's just a hunch, but yeah—"
"And back," added Ron. "I definitely want a portkey to get back."
Hermione grinned at him. "Right, Ron. We won't forget that."
"Well, we aren't supposed to use magic away from Hogwarts," said Harry. "We're probably all right here on the Hogwarts Express. We're used magic here before—" Harry thought of the spells they used to hex Malfoy and his cronies on the train before. "But I think if we use magic at Hermione's house, we might end up with the Department of Underage Magic at the door."
"Not if you don't use your wand," blurted Fred.
George kicked him. Everyone else was gaping open mouthed at Fred. "Thanks, Fred," said George sarcastically. "Now not only can Ginny blackmail us, but so can Ron. If Mum finds out we've been doing wandless magic—"
"Ginny blackmailed you," said Ron. "What—"
"And do you remember what she blackmailed us about?" said George, ignoring Ron.
"The clock," breathed Fred.
"What are you talking about?" said Ron. Frustrated that the twins continued to ignore him, he turned to vent. "They do this all the time," he explained to Harry and Hermione. "I hate when they do this twinspeak stuff."
"Are we to understand that you two have done wandless magic at the Burrow?" asked Hermione.
"Well Samara said they did," said Harry. He remembered the discussion with Samara vividly because it had kept him awake that night, wondering if her assessment of his own wandless magic was right. Did he sic the snake on Dudley and blow up Aunt Marge on purpose? It was not until later, that he and Samara had both decided his experience with wandless magic was only done on a broomstick. "So what's this about a clock?" Harry asked. "Do you mean the clock that tells where all the Weasleys are?"
"The very one," said George.
"I think we might be able to figure out where Ginny is," said Fred. "Mum was worried about all of us, so we improved the clock at home: made more specific locations. Before Ginny–um, left—the hand on Mum's clock said, 'at Azkaban.' Mum thought we broke it and that it needed to be fixed. We were laughing about it and Ginny asked us to fix her hand so it always said, 'at school.' We just thought she was growing up and didn't want Mum to know she wasn't her little angel anymore."
"So she really was at Azkaban?" wondered George.
"And she looked sick that morning," added Fred. "When was that?"
"After Halloween," supplied George.
"They're doing it again," grumbled Ron. Then he interrupted the twins. "George, Fred, there's something else I should tell you," said Ron. "The reason I couldn't—do anything for Ginny when Voldemort took her—"
"About time you answered that question," said Fred.
"We're listening," added George.
"It was because Voldemort brought dementors. I was trying to keep them off of your unconscious bodies."
Fred and George both paled.
"That's why it took you four days of constant chocolate in the hospital wing," said Ron. "Not because of Samara's shield or your spell."
"And he'll still have them, won't he?" said George.
Harry nodded. "How's your patronus?"
"Ok," said Fred, "But it's never been tested against real dementors."
"And when did you do wandless magic?" blurted Ron. "I live with you guys. How could I have missed this?"
"Donno," said Fred.
"Canary Creams," said George with a shudder. "I had a headache for half the summer."
"But the Ton Tongue Taffies were easier," said Fred. "We were better able to handle the magic."
"That's the time Ginny caught us," said George. "Mum had taken all we had and we so wanted to get your cousin Dudley to try them."
The little groups started laughing and reminiscing.
"I still can't believe Ginny had the guts to blackmail us," said Fred at last. "After the favor we did her, allowing her to make some money selling the makeup potion." Fred frowned. "Hey George, what do you think she was doing with all of that makeup potion."
"I donno. Selling it, I guess. That's what she said she wanted to do with it—" George's voice dwindled off. "You don't think she—"
"I think so—" said Fred. "She even said she was selling it to the Slytherins."
"And they would pay those exorbitant prices," whispered George. "If they needed it—"
"To cover a Dark Mark," moaned Fred, burying his face in his hands. "Our potion has been covering their Dark Marks all year."
"And Ginny!" said George. "If she wanted us to fix the clock and she's been selling the potion to cover the Slytherins' Dark Marks, then—"
"Don't you say it!" snapped Fred. "This is Ginny you're talking about. Our baby sister."
"Guys," Ron interrupted gently. "There's one more thing you should know about Ginny—"
"What's that?" asked George.
"She used a portkey. You-Know-Who said, 'Virginia, use your portkey,' and she did."
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Before they left the train, Ron pulled his brothers into a quick hug, saying "We'll get her back."
Moments later, his mum, waving and calling, found them at King's Cross Station.
Hermione's mum and dad were both waiting too. The cold drizzle had them huddling close together under one big umbrella.
Hermione hugged her mum and dad, and then Harry held out his hand to Hermione's dad. "It's good to see you again, Sir," he said.
"Harry—isn't it?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Thank you for having us at your home through the Holiday," added Ron.
"Oh, according to her letters, I don't think Hermione would have come home without you," said her dad, with a grin at his daughter, and Hermione busied herself brushing Crookshanks hair from her cloak. "I'll go get the car," he said after winking at his daughter.
Ron blushed bright red.
"Well, I have so much homework," Hermione added. "Harry and Ron and I are working on a project."
"I know dear," added her mother. "You told us you have a lot of work, but you are on holiday—"
"Well, getting ready for OWLs—" began Hermione.
"I thought we could go Christmas shopping," interrupted Hermione's mother, "and maybe have dinner in London before we go home."
Harry had the distinct feeling that Hermione wasn't even speaking the same language as her mum.
"Mum," said Hermione, "I hope you didn't take a lot of time off from work. I really do have a project that we are working on—"
"Alright," said her mum with a sigh as they put their belongings in the trunk of the white Mercedes.
Traffic was terrible and the Grangers decided they should stop at a restaurant and allow the rush hour traffic to clear. Harry ate his food without really tasting it, but he smiled and dutifully said how good everything was. They got back in the car and, although Harry and Ron talked for a little while, the lull of the car combined with Hermione's mum's discussion of fashion and music started to put Harry to sleep. He awoke just before they pulled up to Hermione's house.
"Well, we're here," said Hermione.
Harry looked out of the car window as they drove up the winding red brick driveway to a brick garage, which matched the beautiful Victorian brick home. Hermione's dad reached something above his head and the garage door opened.
"Just like Alohomora," commented Ron.
They carried their trunks into the Granger home. The carpet was Gryffindor red, Harry noticed, and nothing was out of place. It looked like Hermione's mum arranged glass around her house like Hermione arranged books. There were several on every flat surface in the house.
"Who has a white sofa?" muttered Ron.
"Someone without little kids," Harry murmured back.
"I'll be afraid to touch anything," said Ron and Harry had to agree. The place looked like a museum.
"Just make yourselves at home," said Hermione's mum.
Ron snorted and turned it into a cough.
"Do your parents really live here?" asked Harry.
Hermione laughed. "They both work a lot. They really live at the office, so that should work out fine for us. I'll show you to the guest room," Hermione said a little louder. "Mum said you could each have your own room if you wanted to, but I thought you might want to share a room. It's smaller, but it has the twin beds. Mum picked them up at an antique auction last year. And my room is right across the hall. Stow your trunks and come back down stairs. I'm not too interested in Muggle television, but on the first night home, Mum and Dad always like me to sit with them in front of it."
Harry, who knew about television but never got to watch it, was fascinated by it. Ron sounded like a miniature version of his father as he asked how everything worked. They started to watch a story, but Hermione's father changed the station to a soccer game that was remarkably easy to follow.( Let's ask on group what sports would be playing on tv in Britian at Christmas? What do you think?) The family discussed the players and the game play at length. When it was over, the News came on.
Harry watched in growing horror as he listened to accounts of people fleeing the suburban mall, just a few kilometers away. It seemed something frightened the people who were previously just cueing up with their children for a chat with Father Christmas. Something frightened the people so much that they tore out of line and didn't slow until they were completely out of the mall.
"Two people are in critical condition in the local hospital," said the newscaster. "Although it is unclear what happened to them in the first place, it is assumed that they were trampled in the rush."
"Dementors," muttered Hermione, looking worriedly at the boys.
Harry nodded, and stretched. "Well, if you don't mind, I think I'll go to bed," said Harry. "It's been a long day. Coming Ron?"
"In a minute," said Ron, catching Hermione's hand.
Harry smiled slightly and shook his head. "Alright."
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When Ron entered the room he was sharing with Harry, Harry stopped pacing and looked at him. "We have to find Samara," said Harry. "Remember what Parvati said?
"Upon this one child rests the future of the wizarding world.
"The longer Samara stays with Voldemort, the more chance that he will somehow force her to his side and the prophecy says that could be the end of us all. We need her on the side of Light. We need to do this now!" exclaimed Harry, exasperated. "The dementors on the news just reinforce how important this is."
"Harry, it's dark outside. We don't even know where she is."
"The Riddle house," said Harry. "I could Apparate—"
"No," said Ron firmly. "Just because you haven't had any brushes with You-Know-Who recently when you've Apparated doesn't mean that you're safe. Remember, Professor Sinistra said that most Apparition mistakes are made when you're tired. All we need is for you to splinch yourself. We've waited this long—"
"Too long," added Harry.
"Come on, Harry, buck up," said Ron. "Tomorrow we'll look for the recipe for the Locator Potion and try to trace her whereabouts."
"I'm worried," whispered Harry.
"I know," said Ron morosely. "We all are. I just wish we knew how to find them."
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In the morning, Hermione knocked on the boy's door and motioned them to follow her into her room. "I know how to find them," she said, dropping the huge volume of Most Potente Potions on her bed. "I remembered Professor Snape mentioning the Locator Potion last year, but I couldn't find a recipe." She flipped open the book. "Well, I found it. Here's the recipe," she said.
"So, you think we should make this potion?" asked Harry.
"It could help us locate her since we have no other options," said Hermione as she cleared off her desk to make room for the muggle style hot plate. She turned it on and put a number 2 cauldron half filled with water on it.
"I think we should go to the Riddle House first," said Harry.
"You think so?" asked Ron. "Wouldn't the Ministry look there first?"
"Maybe, but sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight," said Hermione.
"Well, at least it's a simple potion," said Ron. "Do you have Samara's possession?" he asked Hermione.
"Right here," said Hermione, holding up a piece of yellowed paper.
"What is it?" asked Harry,
"A page from her book," answered Hermione. "In fact, I brought the whole thing." She held up the book.
"Keep it on that side of the room," said Harry, who was extremely sensitive to the Dark Magic that was contained in the book. "Of course, even if the potion doesn't trace Samara's whereabouts, it might trace Voldemort's."
Ron shuddered. "I wish you wouldn't say his name."
"I wish you would," said Harry.
They grinned at each other as Hermione stirred the potion with her wand. "Ron, would you rip that page into pieces about a centimeter square and drop them into the potion?"
While Ron was tearing up the page, Harry asked, "What do your parents say about you brewing in your room?"
"Oh, they don't mind," said Hermione. "They understand. It's rather similar to the Chemistry classes they took in college. In fact, the hot plate was my Dad's suggestion. He was tired of Mum complaining about the potion messes on the kitchen stove.
"Wouldn't this work better with something more personal?" asked Ron.
"More personal than that book?" said Hermione "Are you kidding?"
"Well, I meant like hair or fingernail clippings."
"Oh, I couldn't find any of those," said Hermione. "Ginny started Accioing her hair and Incendioing it back in October. Probably something Snape said in Advanced Defense… Anyway, Samara started doing the same thing."
"Well, after that hag at Knockturn Alley wanted your hair," said Harry. "It's a wonder you weren't concerned too."
Hermione shook her head. "I think it was more for protection from someone making polyjuice and masquerading as one of us to get close to you Harry. Of course, with Beatrice in our room, that would be pretty dangerous anyway," said Hermione with a grin. "I don't think they'd feel any better about being half bunny than I felt about being half cat. Of course Samara and Ginny didn't see me turn into catwoman." Hermione shuddered. "So they only had a notion, in theory, of how dangerous animagi would be to polyjuice." Hermione turned off the hotplate with a twist of a knob near the burner.
"Ok, it is ready," she said. "Let's have a look before it cools."
The threesome crowded around the cauldron as if it were a pensieve.
"What do you see?" asked Hermione after awhile.
"Nothing. Just white," said Ron.
"It looks like—snow," said Harry. "Does anything look familiar to either of you?"
"Well, as familiar as snow," said Ron. "But that doesn't tell us much about location."
"Maybe North of here," said Hermione.
"Did you have a look outside?" asked Ron. "It's snowing now. It's not sticking, but—" Ron shrugged. "It could be anywhere."
"The Riddle House," said Harry. "I could Apparate over—"
"No wands," interrupted Hermione.
"You used your wand to stir the potion," said Harry.
"I've done that before," said Hermione, "and never alerted the Ministry officials. I think it's minor magic and it's below the activation threshold for the Ministy Department of Underage Magic.
"Why don't we just all use the portkey you made?" said Hermione. "That way, we can all stay together and still take a quick look."
"What about the twins?" said Ron. "They wanted to come with us."
"Well, if Ginny's there," said Harry, "we might need their help. We'll come back to get them, but if she's not, we'll have to think of another way to locate her. They can come then."
Harry pulled two scrolls of parchment out of his trunk. One was tied with green ribbon and had a small green snake drawn on it. The other was tied with red ribbon and had a small red snake drawn on it. "Let's go," said Harry.
"That's the portkey?" asked Hermione.
Harry nodded and held up the red-ribboned parchment which he put into his pocket. "Green for going and red for coming back here."
Hermione looked at the parchments for a moment. "I don't know about portkeying directly to the Riddle house," said Hermione nervously.
"Oh, it's not right into the house," said Harry.
"So it's the grounds?"
"Um. No. Actually, it's the graveyard behind it. I wasn't sure I had a clear enough picture of the inside of the house. I've only seen it in a dream, but I remember the graveyard vividly." Harry smiled a rather rueful smile.
"Well let's do it then" said Hermione reaching for the portkey.
Ron drew his wand with his right hand and reached out with his left.
"Riddle house," said Harry, and he felt the familiar tug behind his navel.
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Harry thought it looked strange to be standing in the middle of the snow with no footprints leading to or fro. The ice encrusted on the yew tree made it look pure and innocent as it glinted in the sun. He had inadvertently portkeyed himself to exactly the same place as he was portkeyed to last year. The first thing Harry saw when he appeared in the graveyard was Tom Riddle's cracked and ruined tombstone. A layer of pristine white snow lay upon the broken gravestone softening its stark angles. Side by side were the names, Thomas Riddle and Thomas S. Riddle. Between them was an angel statue with a broken wing, but the inscription was obscured by snow. He turned to see the spot where Cedric had fallen, the angel standing watch proudly, her broken wing bore witness to her brush with the devil, and yet, the devil had not beaten him.
Harry could not help remembering the last time he had been here. The cauldron was there. Wormtail lay on the ground there. And Voldemort, Voldemort stood there when he said, "You have been taught to duel, Harry Potter." The soft fatality of that voice would ring in his ears forever and yet, he had escaped. Death Eaters had Apparated and came from the trees beyond but he had escaped. Yes, he had escaped, but Voldemort rose anew because he, Harry Potter, was too weak to be able to stop him from taking his blood. Harry shuddered and pulled himself out of the memory.
Hermione and Ron already started to walk toward the house, but Harry glanced back at the gravestones. He had hidden behind that very gravestone. He remembered telling Samara about the event. "I'm not very brave," she had said. "I would have been so scared." And he told her he was scared too. He had been in Voldemort's company for a few terrifying minutes. Samara had been in his company for one week and one day. Harry turned and hurried after his friends.
As they approached the door, Harry began to wonder if this was a good idea after all. The place looked deserted. He shivered and wanted to turn back.
"Do you feel that?" asked Ron.
Harry nodded, realizing what it was that was undermining his courage, and making him want to run away. "Wards," said Harry.
Hermione raised her wand frowning, "Nothing difficult," she said, "but they've been reset recently. The wards will interfere with any magic we do here or inside the house," said Hermione.
"Well, that's Ok," said Ron. "At least we won't have to worry about the Ministry showing up."
Hermione shook her head. "Alohomora," she said, and the door opened, squeaking ominously.
Harry suppressed the urge to laugh. Just like a haunted house, he thought. Once inside, the urge to laugh disappeared. The marble floor and green carpet were covered with dust. Several stains marred the pale carpet and Harry could imagine that what he smelled was the metallic scent of blood.
It certainly doesn't look like anyone has been here for a while," said Hermione.
"Voldemort was here last year," said Harry, thinking about his vision of Voldemort Crucioing Wormtail. "He was upstairs."
"Let's have a look then," said Ron. "Which way?"
"I don't know," said Harry.
As they passed the dining room, the garish red of spray paint caught Harry's eye. Written across the walls were generations of Muggles' names. Some had hearts around them indicating a couple. Some had dates. Some had doodles. The floor was covered with brownish red stains and here was where the smell of blood was coming from.
"Last year," whispered Harry, running a finger along the date of 1994 and the corresponding name. Another name was written within a picture frame. Harry realized someone had broken the glass out and removed the picture to make room for the Muggle's name. The picture itself was lying ripped on the floor. Harry turned it over and looked at it. At least it wasn't a wizarding photograph, thought Harry, thinking of the fat lady's distress when Sirius had slashed her picture because she wouldn't let him into Gryffindor Tower. Harry's eyes fell on the date written in the picture frame. "Voldemort was here, last year," whispered Harry, picking up a piece of the broken glass, "And so were these Muggles."
The threesome just stared at the dining room and while they stared, Harry felt suddenly light-headed. The soft silky power of an Imperius Curse seemed to be coming from somewhere. He recognized it and started to fight it. It was elusive. He thought he had overcome it, but—He needed a weapon. His hand closed on his wand. For a moment he silently fought the curse, drawing his hand away from his wand and then he lost control. Anger welled up in him, hot and furious. "No!" he cried, looking around wildly.
Suddenly he knew what he had to do to stop the fire within him. It was the girl. He launched himself at her, knocking her to the ground and slashing with the glass in his hand. The glass struck flesh where she had put up her arm to shield her face. She snatched at his glasses, knocking them from his face, and breaking them as they rolled on the floor in mortal combat. She seemed just as determined to kill him as he her. Fingernails raked his face and her teeth sunk into the hand that held the glass.
Harry yowled with pain and dropped the chunk of glass.
"Harry, no!" shouted Ron. "Hermione!"
The red headed boy was in his way, trying to pry them apart. Harry shoved him aside, desperate to kill the girl and make the pain stop. He closed his hands about her throat and squeezed, the soft tissue yielding to his fingers.
With a feral growl that sounded more like an animal than a human, she pulled her wand and pointed it at Harry's belly. "Avada—" she rasped out, using the last of the breath Harry allowed her to have.
"Petrificus Totalis!" shouted Ron. "Petrificus Totalis!"
"Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin! Oh Merlin!" Ron scrambled to the two of them and shook Harry. "Harry, I don't know what happened to you." Ron dragged Harry from the dining room. "I think it's the room," he muttered. "I hope it's the room." Panting he lifted Hermione and carried her to the corridor too. He looked from one to the other. "OK, Hermione. I'm going to take off the binding spell, but if you attack Harry again, we're all going back to your house, pronto. Finite Incantum!"
Hermione blinked at Ron. "What?" she croaked, and her hand went to her throat.
"Don't move," Ron demanded, wand poised.
"Ron? What's the matter with you?" asked Hermione. "What happened to Harry?" She touched her forearm and her fingers came away sticky with blood.
"I bound him," said Ron, "and you too. Don't you remember what happened?"
"Ron? What are you talking about? You aren't making sense. Release Harry this instant."
"You aren't going to try to kill him, are you?"
"What!?" She was feeling in her pocket for her wand but came up empty. "My wand—" She looked toward the dining room where it lay discarded on the floor. She started to stand, but Ron pulled her down beside him again. "Stay here," he said. "I'll get it in a minute. It didn't seem to affect me before."
"Did something attack us?" she asked.
"No. You and Harry attacked each other," said Ron.
Hermione stared open mouthed.
Ron sighed and looked at Harry. He fished through Harry's pockets for his wand and with it safely aside Ron spoke. "Finite Incantum!" he said, still cautiously holding his wand on them.
Harry was instantly contrite. "Oh Hermione," he cried, hugging her. "I'm so sorry." Tears were welling up in his eyes. "I tried to fight it, but then you—you—" He touched her bloodied arm, and reached for his wand. His eyes widened as he realized it wasn't in his pocket.
"I have it," said Ron.
"Well, give it here," said Harry angrily. "She needs that cut cleaned and healed."
"I'm not giving you your wand Harry until I know what happened in there."
Harry sat back on his heels, and rubbed his face. "Where are my glasses?" he asked.
"Here," said Ron. "Accio!" The pieces fell into Ron's hand and he handed them to Harry after he repaired them. Harry put the newly fixed glasses on his face.
"I believe it was some sort of Imperius Curse." Harry said. His voice dropped to a horrified whisper. "I wanted to kill Hermione."
"And she wanted to kill you," said Ron.
"Why don't I remember this?" asked Hermione.
"And why was I spared?" said Ron.
"I don't know," said Harry, "but it seems to be over now."
"Ok," said Ron carefully. He hesitatingly handed Harry his wand, and Harry healed Hermione's cuts. Ron raised his own wand. "Accio wand!" he said, and Hermione's wand flew to his outstretched hand. He handed it to her. "Samara isn't here," he said. "I think we should go before we run into any more booby traps."
"We don't know that Samara isn't here," said Harry. There's upstairs, and um—downstairs."
"Is there a dungeon?" asked Ron.
Harry shrugged. "Basement, more likely."
"Would he leave her here unguarded?" asked Hermione as they started toward the stairs.
"I don't know," said Harry. As they proceeded up the stairs, Harry's hand wiped the dust from the banister where there was more graffiti. "Garrett D. slid here" was written the full length of the banister. The writing ended at the top of the steps and did not continue around the railing, which accented the domed ceiling. The ceiling was glowing green.
Hermione caught her breath and then pointed up. Written in a bright pink flowery script and surrounded with a greenish glow-in-the-dark paint were the enormous letters, "Sam D tops you all!"
"I wonder how he got up there," said Ron.
"Not he," said Hermione. "She—Samara—"
"You don't think she snuck in here and wrote that," said Harry. "It can't be the same person."
"It is," said Hermione. "I recognize her writing. She told us her town is a tourist attraction with a haunted house on the hill. I think she even mentioned dares to spend the night in the haunted house, but she never mentioned vandalism."
"What amazes me," said Ron, "is that You-Know-Who was looking for her for fourteen years and she was living in an unprotected Muggle house. He could have taken her anytime he wanted to."
"Not really," said Harry. "He wasn't in any shape to find her until I helped him out last year," he said bitterly.
"I meant before that," said Ron.
"Well, before that, he found me, didn't he?' "Unless he didn't know where she was," said Harry.
"Of course he didn't know where she was, Harry. He didn't even know who she was until just a few weeks ago." Said Hermione.
"So he was in a worse predicament than we're in," said Ron.
"But he's not anymore," said Hermione.
"No," said Harry softly.
"Ready to tackle the -um basement?" added Hermione.
Ron caught Harry's shoulder, and turned him around. "Harry," he whispered. "If you didn't want to send wizards to protect your prophecy child—" Ron licked his lips.
"Dementors," said Hermione.
The boys nodded and they headed downstairs. After several minutes of looking, they finally found the doorway that led down to the bowels of the Riddle house. The smell of decay and mold greeted them as they opened the door, but there was no smell of blood. They proceeded down the stairs and separated a little, exploring, but keeping each other in sight.
While they watched, Hermione stepped on a perfectly solid piece of the floor and sank into it up to her knees. She screeched and, almost immediately, she began to sink with amazing rapidity as if she were stuck in quicksand. She dragged her wand from her pocket, which was already filling with the mire. "Ron! Harry!"
Ron was quicker, sprinting to her side and grabbing her arm with one hand, and pulling his wand with the other. He levitated her out of the muck and sat her down on solid ground beside him. Immediately she began to sink again.
Harry charged to his side and also began to sink. "Shit," he spat reaching for his wand. Instead, he accidentally grabbed the red-ribboned portkey from his pocket. Hermione, who was up to her neck by now, reached for the portkey.
"What's the word?" she asked, and Harry and Ron added their hands to the portkey.
"Home," said Harry. Nothing happened.
"All together, then," said Ron. "Home!"
Harry felt the familiar tug behind his navel and then the three of them fell onto the Granger's kitchen floor, trailing muck and mire everywhere.
"What the hell?" exclaimed Dr. Granger as he stared at them.
++
"Good thing we're not at my house," said Ron. "Even my Dad never would have bought that story about studying the uses of wizarding transportation, Hermione, even if I did clean up the kitchen."
"That's because your Mum and Dad know what a portkey is," said Hermione. "I told you we would have more freedom at my house. Now, I'm going to take a long hot shower, and then we can try to figure out why none of the booby traps worked on Ron."
"I think I know the answer to that," Ron said, surprising them all. "It's because I'm a pureblood. Could the spell be keyed to Muggle blood? You-Know-Who was trying to keep out the Muggles—"
"Can't say I blame him," said Harry, thinking of the vandalism.
"But Harry's not Muggleborn," said Hermione.
"My mother was," said Harry. "You might have something there, Ron."
"It doesn't bring us any closer to finding Ginny or Samara or Beatrice," lamented Ron.
"We'll find them," promised Hermione, leaning in to run her mire-encrusted arms up Ron's relatively clean chest and around his neck. Ron kissed her and his arms tightened around her, ignoring the dirt.
"Um," said Harry. "Don't mind me." He muttered looking away, and then he asked. "Hermione, do you have a second bathroom?"
"Use the one upstairs, Harry," she said. "End of the hall."
Harry nodded and sprinted up the stairs to get a shower, leaving Hermione and Ron on the landing half way up the stairs.
The next day, the trio tried brewing the Locator Potion again. This time they centered it on Ginny and used three drops of Ron's blood instead of pages from a book. It was still snowing, but the potion seemed to allow movement. Enormous oak doors swung open for them and they were in a marble entranceway that rivaled the Great Hall at Hogwarts.
"Malfoy Manor?" suggested Hermione, but Ron shook his head.
"No," said Ron. "Malfoy Manor has a staircase in the foyer. It's carved out of ebony with snakes for the spindles."
"And how do you know that?" asked Hermione incredulously.
"It was in Witch Weekly, as the home of the month a while back," said Ron. "Mum couldn't stop talking about it. She wanted to re-do the staircase in the Burrow."
"With snakes?" asked Hermione with a smile.
"No, of course not," said Ron, "but she did like the ebony, until Dad told her the meaning of the wood refers to the beauty and power of the Dark. "
"Well, we don't know where the house is, or who it belongs to, but it's a better result than the uninterrupted snow we had last time," said Hermione. "I think we need to brew this with Samara's family's blood."
The boys agreed with her and were all set to use the portkey to the Riddle graveyard in Little Hangleton and walk to Samara's family's house using the "point me" charm, but Hermione had a better idea. She suggested that they use the Muggle telephone directory and call ahead. Unfortunately, the phone rang busy for half an hour, and Harry was anxious to go.
"Every minute we delay could be the moment Samara joins the Dark Lord," he complained.
Sirius, who finally showed up that evening, was adamant. "No Muggles."
"Blood is blood," said Harry. "It doesn't matter if it's Muggle, squib or wizard. I learned that from the years I spent with the Dursleys." His eyes met Sirius'. "It's been a hard lesson."
"I know, Harry. I'm sorry." said Sirius. "We—Dumbledore and I—just wanted to keep you safe."
"I said, I learned that lesson. Blood is blood," said Harry. "We need to contact them. We have no idea where the girls are—unless the Order of the Phoenix has an idea?"
"No," said Sirius, "but you can't just go marching into a Muggle neighborhood and ask for blood."
"I don't intend to," said Harry. "I intend to ask the relatives of a witch for their help in finding their own child!"
"Let me think about it," said Sirius. "I'll check it out with Dumbledore and let you know tomorrow."
++
But when tomorrow came, Sirius was absent.
Harry, Ron and Hermione waited another day out of courtesy, but still no Sirius.
"I don't care what Sirius says," Harry told his friends. "We need to do this. We've wasted too much time already. We don't know how long the girls can hold out."
Finally, they agreed.
+++
Garrett: Thanks for watching those reviews for me
Eldawen: Welcome and thanks for the review
Raven173: Welcome back. It's good to see you. And yes, Tom communicates with both Ginny and Volde, but they are not the same Tom. Tom in Ginny's head is the 16 year old memory. Tom in Volde's head is the embittered owner of the now ruined body which Salazar took over
XASA: More Draco coming, but don't expect him to be nicer.
Tiamat Warcraft: Huggles to you too. Thanks for reviewing. Go check out Tiamat's story
Trillim: Draco is always cool.
Sky: There may be some more Drumstrang stuff later. At least the Drumstrang kids will play a part.
Trillium: I take it you don't like Lemon Drops… As far as "terrible as dragons" well yes, of course that's why Hagrid loves them. I think he means terrible as "awesome" or "exciting" as well as "terrible"
Claret345: Oh no, weeded out all the Ron lovers in the first book. LOL. Actually, I think I've done a better job on Ron this go. I hope so. Nice long, WONDERFUL review. Gave me warm fuzzies and that's saying a lot.
Becky: Yeah. You're reading! When are you going to camp? Email me.
Jager: Glad you like
Emma-Trelawny: More about the Snow Castle coming.
Garrett: OK that's 2 reviews for you and Trillium. Should I really put up this chapter? What cheats you are! OK I respect that, being a Slyth and all—
Kemenran: More coming
Silverfox1: Love you insightful comments on reviews and group. If you haven't visited the yahoo group, w—groups.yahoo.com/group/The_Seers_Truth
Please do so.
Adaneth: Glad you like Draco. I don't think Dumbledore is sadistical, just typical Dumbledore.
Ennui deMorte: No sicing basilisks. Sorry. Yes, perhaps Draco should have given them a multiple choice owl. Lol Thanks for always looking out for mistakes and adding your comments. Great beta! Thanks again.
Now, you know what to do. 15 reviews gets the next chapter. So you can review and then send the link to everyone in your address book. That way, the reviews get in faster.
Love you all
Lady Lestrange
In the meantime, go discuss things at Yahoogroup
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