Chapter 7
"Oh my god, how could we have been so stupid!" Cried Hermione as Harry finished explaining to them where the next Horcrux was.
"Yeah Hermione, how did you not see that coming?" Ron asked, with a smirk. She slapped him on the arm, "Ow!" he cried, disgruntled,
"Serves you right!" She snapped.
"Remus will be coming with us, just this one time. He knows about this stuff a lot more than we do. It'll be good to have an expert for this first time, just for once."
"Harry you don't have to stress the point, I will not be accompanying you on your travels after this." Harry grinned a little sheepishly.
"Before we go, I need to get some…some potion ingredients from Snape's store." Hermione said carefully. Harry looked at her sharply, and she looked back slightly apologetically, "Sorry, Harry, but it's things I really need. I have some healing potions from Madame Pomfrey, but if we run out, I might have to brew some more." Harry stared a moment then nodded. He really did not want to go down to the traitor's dungeons, but he knew it made sense.
"Okay, let's get the stuff and get out of here. What about the food?" He asked looking at Ron.
"We got some supplies from the elves earlier today. Hermione put spells on it to keep it all fresh for a few months."
"Okay, good." The four of them stood for a moment, until Harry sighed. "I guess we'd better get down to the dungeons then." He muttered and they all rose to leave. Grabbing all their supplies as they headed for the portrait hole. As the fat lady swung forwards and Harry clambered through last, he turned in time to see her shut again and was sure that she winked at him before returning to her sleep. He smiled to himself. He may not be coming back this year, but he would return, he promised himself, he was not going to abandon his first and only home and never return for a few reminiscent visits. The three wizards and the witch walked quickly along the echoey transfiguration corridor, when Harry decided something,
"I want to visit McGonagall before we leave, okay?" he asked and the others nodded,
"You are aware, I take it Harry, that as Headmistress she has taken up residency in Dumbledore's office?" asked Remus. This thought had not occurred to Harry, but it made sense so he nodded. As they descended the steps to Snape's dungeon, Harry felt the familiar sense of foreboding, though he knew that it was just force of habit, this place had nothing but bad memories. Hermione went first and cautiously pushed the heavy iron door open, but to no-one's surprise there was no biting comment of retribution or slick, sarcastic put-down, just blissful silence. They all moved into the empty darkened classroom, and for a moment Harry's heart stopped as the sconces around the walls were lit magically, Harry turned only to see Remus looking at him apologetically,
"I thought it was a bit dark," he explained, "I'm going to help Hermione." Remus and the aforementioned witch moved to the left side of the classroom where Snape's personal store room resided. Ron sat up on a desk and began swinging his legs, staring around lazily. Harry, however, decided to use his time slightly more effectively. He moved towards Snape's desk, weaving in-between the chairs and cauldrons scattered across the floor. He knew for a fact that the bastard hadn't had anything but a wand with him when he left, so all is personal items would still be here. Untouched. Like a ritual of respect after a person had died. Well, thought Harry, he certainly was on his death bed, just waiting for Harry to finish him, but he did not deserve any respect. His desk held precious few personal items, only what appeared to be a letter. All else was school work. He picked up the letter, which had been partially slid under some essays on Boomslang skin and it's properties, only to drop it in disgust. The family crest at the top of the letter was that of the house of Malfoy. Harry felt a growl emerge from his throat as he picked up the letter again and read it with shaking hands, and a temper that was liable to explode at any second.
Severus,
I write to you in times of need, concerning that which we have discussed in private many times, occasionally in the company of my dearest sister Bella. You know of what I speak, it would be unwise to specify in a letter, considering where you are at the moment. The wheels are in motion, it will be tonight. Please help him; you know he cannot do this, and that it is only for want of punishing Lucius that our Lord asked him to do this. You know what I have asked, please, Severus, please fulfil the bond, and help him.
Yours sincerely and forever,
Narcissa Malfoy
Harry was shaking with anger, he had already ripped the paper slightly from the fury that was coursing through his veins. This was it, undeniable proof of that bastard's involvement. One glance at the date scrawled across the top of the parchment told Harry it was sent the morning of Dumbledore's death. Harry knew the letter was concerning Malfoy and his task to kill Dumbledore, but he could not do it, and Snape had had to do it for him. Harry slammed his fist down on the desk, making it wobble dangerously and papers to flutter off onto the floor with a gentle grace. Ron jumped at the sound and slid of his desk behind Harry,
"What's up, mate?" he asked. Harry was too angry to speak, so he just passed the letter in shaking hands to Ron. His friends face darkened as his eyes whizzed down the letter.
"That-" Ron yelled something that caused Hermione to shout,
"Language Ronald!" from inside the store cupboard.
"My sentiments exactly." Harry ground out. Angrily, he kicked at Snape's desk, which scraped across the floor, satisfyingly.
"What's going on?" Remus asked in a strict voice, as he and Hermione emerged from the store room, arms laden with strange looking roots and jars of slimy things floating in viscous liquid. Harry was still seething, fist clenched. He could not conjure words strong enough to explain Snape's deceit. Not only had the man killed Dumbledore, but it was not even as if he had just seen an 'opportunity' and jumped upon it, but the bastard had actually planned it all, had meetings with known deatheaters about it! It was a pre-meditated attack! Ron looked at his friend and could see the likelihood of Remus and Hermione getting an answer from him so he spoke up.
"We…found a letter on his desk…it's confirming the night of the attack…and…stuff." Remus' eye's narrowed and he moved forward to take the letter from Ron. Hermione stood on tiptoe and leaned over his arm to read it as well. She gasped as Remus sighed,
"I…I mean I never really doubted you, Harry, but I had always hoped that there were…extenuating circumstances or…something." She muttered. Remus handed the letter back to Harry. He wasn't really sure that he wanted to keep it with him, but when they finally caught up with Snape, he wanted it to wave in front of his fat, ugly nose as proof of pre-meditation.
"I just cannot believe it." Remus muttered, Harry snapped his head up,
"What!" He cried, "The proof's right here!" Remus waved his hand dismissively,
"No, I believe he's responsible, I'm just…still in shock, I guess. It's just so…" He sighed and rubbed his eyes, "There are no words…" he muttered. Harry privately agreed with him. "Let's get out of here." Said his father's friend. Harry, Ron and Hermione nodded.
"I'll wait here while you make a detour to McGonagall's office." Remus said, "The password is…sherbet lemon," he said. Harry felt a wave of grief, and turned away. He knew this was McGonagall's way of remembering him, preserving respect after she had taken over his office. Harry nodded, then looked at Ron and Hermione, silently asking whether they were coming. They looked at each other,
"Erm…we'll stay with Remus," Ron said carefully,
"I think you should probably talk with McGonagall alone." Hermione murmured.
"Okay, wait for me, until I get back." Harry said without thinking, and Ron sniggered,
"No, Harry, we're going to run off while you're not looking and destroy Voldemort on our own." Harry grinned as Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry turned on his heel and headed up a few flights of stairs to reach the stone gargoyle. He paused catching his breath as he stared down the corridor at the statue, remembering the last time he had entered it, blissfully unaware of the fate of that evening. Slowly he moved towards it, memories flooding back with every step,
"'I take you with me on one condition: that you obey every command I might give you, at once and without question.'
'Of course.'
'Be sure to understand me, Harry. I mean that you must follow even such orders as "run", "hide" or "go back". Do I have your word?'
'I - yes, of course.'"
Harry shook off this memory, as he took a few more steps towards the gargoyle, unfortunately his over active, over emotional mind, was ready with another, the next step of that evening,
"'Why can't I drink the potion instead?' asked Harry desperately.
'Because I am much older, much cleverer, and much less valuable,' said Dumbledore. 'Once and for all, Harry, do I have your word that you will do all in your power to make me keep drinking?'
'Couldn't - ?'
'Do I have it?'
'But - '
'Your word, Harry.'
'I – all right…'"Harry once again shook his head, as slowly he neared the gargoyle. He did not want to be reliving these memories, but it seemed that as he trod this path, again, there was nothing he could do to stop the flood of memories returning to him.
"He was on his feet once more, refilling the goblet as Dumbledore began to scream in more anguish than ever,
'I want to die! I want to die! Make it stop, make it stop, I want to die!'"
The real Harry stopped part way down the corridor, his eyes scrunched up against the pain of the memories.
"'Drink this, Professor, drink this…' Dumbledore drank, and no sooner had he finished than he yelled,
'KILL ME!'"
Harry stood still in the corridor, he hadn't realised but tears had leaked down his cheeks as he was watching the memory play out. It had been a long time since he had let that happen. He had sworn that he would not let the memory invade him as badly as it had then, and as it had the few days after Dumbledore's death that he had stayed at Grimmauld Place with Remus, straight from the funeral. But he found at this time, he didn't care, as he was headed to the one place on this earth that was truly Dumbledore, he wanted to relive the memories, he felt he needed to, like poison being drawn from a wound.
"'We're nearly there…I can apparate us both back…don't worry…'
'I am not worried, Harry,' said Dumbledore, his voice a little stronger despite the freezing water. 'I am with you.'
As that memory, as Dumbledore's words hit him, almost with more strength than they had originally, Harry let go. He leaned against the wall of the corridor, burning, bitter tears seeping from his eyes, as he slid down onto the floor, wracking grief worming its way out through the cracks in Harry's defences, just as it had in Godric's Hollow. This time however, it was not panicked grief, but grief from deep sorrow and sadness.
"Harry…mate…" Harry knew it was Ron, knew that his best friend had come to help him, knew that he would not laugh or roll his eyes, but he could not look up at him. He just stared at the bottom of the wall on the opposite side of the corridor, letting the grief barrel through him, along with the painful memories.
"'What has happened?' Asked Dumbledore. 'Rosmerta, what's wrong?'
'The – the Dark Mark, Albus.' And she pointed into the sky, in the direction of Hogwarts. Dread flooded Harry at the sound of the words…he turned and looked. There it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark the deatheaters left behind whenever they entered a building…wherever they had murdered…"
"Harry, it's okay, just…just let it out…God I wish Hermione were here," he muttered. Harry felt Ron's arm tentatively slide round his neck and pat him gingerly on his shoulder, as he knelt down next to his friend.
"I'm…fine, Ron, really," he sniffed, "Just…old memories…" he managed as another lodged itself in his minds eye.
"The door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted: 'Expelliarmus!' Harry's body became instantly rigid and immobile, and he felt himself fall back against the tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to move or speak. He could not understand how it had happened – Expelliarmus was not a freezing charm – Then, by the light of the Mark, he saw Dumbledore's wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts and understood…Dumbledore had wordlessly immobilised Harry, and the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself. Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked across at his disarmer and said,
'Good evening, Draco.'"
Harry squirmed as, his eyes shut, he tried to evade the memory he knew was coming, the one where all hope was lost,
"Harry, it's okay, I'm here, mate, I'm not going to let anything happen to you…"
"It's…not me…I'm worried about…Dumbledore…"
"What?" Came Ron's voice, "Mate…he's…Look, just…it'll be alright…" he murmured squeezing Harry's shoulder as more tears leaked out and he squirmed.
"I can't watch again, Ron, I can't go up there, I can't…just can't see him…he falls…and Snape…he…"
"I know mate, I know…" Ron muttered rubbing Harry's shoulders now…
"…at that precise moment the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the four death eaters, including the enraged werewolf, and Malfoy.
'We've got a problem, Snape,' said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, 'the boy doesn't seem able - ' But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.
'Severus…' The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading."
"-don't know, Professor, he just went down like this, he was like this when I found him, do you think I should go and get Remus and Hermione?"
"No, Mr Weasley," Came McGonagall's voice, though Harry was barely aware, "I think he just has to get through this…"
"No…" murmured Harry, "Dumbledore…it's him…"
"Snape said nothing, but walked forwards and pushed Malfoy roughly out of the way. The three death eaters fell back without a word. Even the werewolf seemed cowed. Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.
'Severus…please…' Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore."
"No…NO!" Harry shouted, his eyes still clamped shut, unaware of McGonagall and Ron restraining him as he thrashed about,
"'Avada Kedavra!' A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest…
"No…" Harry opened his eyes, to see McGonagall and Ron peering at him, panic etched across both their faces. Harry sat up shakily, during the last few moments he had slid down onto the floor completely. He pushed his glasses up his nose, only to feel tears and cold sweat mingled together. He made to stand up and Ron helped pull him to his feet.
"Potter, are you alright?" The new headmistress asked him,
"I…I guess I am…" he muttered shakily,
"What on earth happened to you?" she asked, concern evident in her eyes,
"I…don't exactly know…I was walking down this corridor and the memories…of what happened to him…they just came flooding back. I've been trying not to think about that night, but as I was headed to his…I mean your office…they just came crashing back." Ron was looking uncomfortable and Harry thought he should say something, "I'm fine, Ron, I just got a little…overwhelmed. Sorry," he added, embarrassed. Ron suddenly grinned,
"Aah, s'alright, mate." And he clapped Harry on the back.
"What did you want to see me about?" McGonagall asked, all business now that Harry seemed to be back to normal.
"Just wanted to thank you for letting us stay the night, and to let you know that we're going, and Remus is coming with us for a while. I doubt he'll be gone longer than a day or two at the most, but we just need him for something." McGonagall pursed her lips then nodded.
"Do look after yourself, Potter. I want you to know that Hogwarts is always open to you, and that invitation extends to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger also." Harry nodded his thanks, and she turned on her heal and walked off in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry sighed, he did feel a little calmer now that was all out of system. He felt he could finally be at peace inside Hogwarts again. It was a shame they were just about to leave it.
"Let's go, Ron." Said Harry, standing up and dusting down his robes. He wiped his face dry and walked confidently back down the corridor the way they had come, heading for the top of the Dungeon stairs a few flights below. Ron jumped up and followed him down, all the while shooting nervous glances out the corner of his eye at his friend.
"Hey, did you get everything said that you wanted?" asked Hermione when they approached her and Lupin,
"Oh, quite a lot more, in fact." Said Ron, Hermione gave them a curious look as Harry silenced his friend with a threatening glance.
"Okay," began Remus, "we can get to Grimmauld Place through the floo network, I had your dad connect it up for this afternoon, Ron. It doesn't matter now anyway, the place is compromised-"
"Because of Snape." Harry muttered angrily, restraining himself from saying more. Lupin nodded,
"But I want to take it slowly, we don't know if Snape has realised the horcrux is there, and if he has then there could be death eaters infesting the place if he's gotten round the secret keeper problem…or there could be an ambush, so even if it looks clear, keep your wands out and your eyes open. No heroics either." He added, looking at Harry,
"Why are you looking at me!" He demanded angrily. Lupin didn't answer and carried on speaking.
"I'll go first, and then Harry, then you two bring up the rear. Got that?" He asked. The three teenagers nodded. They made their way down the corridor and turned right into the history of magic section of the castle. It was pointless to try and find a working grate along there; it was not as if Binns needed the warmth so his fireplace had been out of action for years. They went up a flight of stairs and Harry realised they were headed for the charms corridor. As they entered Flitwick's room, Harry grinned. The place was an absolute mess; feathers, books and cushions were strewn across the floor. It had obviously not been cleared since last term. Hermione had mentioned earlier that the house elves were in mourning for Dumbledore and hadn't cleaned up properly since last term. This was generally the state of a charms classroom after a lesson. Something that Harry always found very amusing when he thought of the tiny charms professor trying to clean up. It was an unrealistic vision of comic genius though, as even if the house elves did leave the professor to tidy up, Harry doubted that a connoisseur of charm work would clean up the muggle way. Harry came out of his reverie as he bumped into Lupin in front of the fireplace. He had just lit the grate and was looking at Harry, who waited patiently for the warning he knew was coming.
"Be careful, alright. If you come through and see death eaters, no matter WHAT my circumstances, go back and close the grate. Do you understand me?" Lupin stated in his strictest professor voice. Harry nodded, though knew that if he saw Remus in trouble he'd be hard pushed not to try and help. Lupin took a handful of powder from the small pot attached to the fireplace wall, threw it into the flames, which immediately turned green, took a deep breath and then stepped into the fire, shouting '12 Grimmauld Place'. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione, but before he could say anything, Hermione spoke,
"Harry, we may not have been confronted with Voldemort like you have, but we know how to handle ourselves against death eaters, or have you forgotten the Ministry of Magic episode, and the death eaters attack on Hogwarts of not two months ago?" He shook his head and sighed. If only he could. "You don't need to warn us all the time, Harry." Hermione had guessed exactly what he was going to say. It would have basically been a reiteration of what Remus had just said to him anyway, so without a word, he grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the flames, stepped into the grate and shouted '12 Grimmauld Place'.