Chapter 2- McGonnagal's Warning
There was no question that they had been traveling. Ron and Harry entered their room in the Inn where luggage was thrown everywhere, various books left out by Hermione and Ginny, who were in the room next to them. Clothes were draped over the edges of trunks, and it didn't help that the whole place smelled like Mrs. Figg's house on privet drive. Two Owls, a cat, and a small pink puff named Arnold had been traveling with them, and their cages were all adding to the now-familiar scent.
Ron quickly scrawled something on the back of notepad that had come with the room, and tied it to pig's leg. He sent it out the window just as they both heard a loud CRACK.
They spun around, wands drawn, too see Dobby standing on Harry's bed.
"Harry Potter!" He said.
"Dobby!" He said in surprise. "What is it?"
"It's Professor McGonnagal, she's sent me to fetch you."
"Why?" He asked.
"Dobby does not know, sir" He smiled. "But when I heard she wanted someone to fetch you I volunteered!"
"Yeah, thanks for that." Harry said.
"You're very welcome, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby, Must be going sir! There is a meeting of the Hogwarts elves tonight about whether or not to stay with the school with the recent demise of the headmaster."
"Thanks, Dobby," Ron said, Cutting him off and giving him a murderous look.
"Oh, I is sorry, Harry Potter." He said, and with a loud CRACK he vanished again.
"I…Sorry, Harry." Ron said. Harry was staring at the clock on the nightstand, not moving. He got tense whenever Dumbledore was mentioned, not Cedric-tense, but all quiet and motionless. There was a knock on their door. "I'll, just get that, then,"
He opened the door. "Did I hear someone apparating."
"Yes, Come in Hermione," He and Ginny followed Hermione into the room.
"It was Dobby, Professor, McGonnagal's sent for me." Harry said.
"She can't, It's One-thirty in the morning," Ginny said in protest.
"I know, I've got to go, I'll only be a minute." He walked over to Ginny kissed her forehead and said. "Promise you'll sleep tonight." She nodded. "All of you. I don't want my absence to mess things up, we still need sleep if we want to get back on MacNair's tail tomorrow night."
"Right, We'll sleep, Just come back soon." Ron said.
"Right, See you tomorrow morning," Harry said. And with a loud CRACK he vanished.
Even though he was a fully licensed apparater now, he still didn't particularly like it. He did prefer flying, but he also accepted that it was the fastest way to travel. And as he appeared in Professor McGonnagal's office, he was thankful that he had not flown, because it was raining as Harry had never seen it rain outside.
"Potter!" McGonngal noticed him. "I thought you might apparate so I had the blocks lifted until you got here."
He looked around what used to be Dumbledore's Office. Gone were the spinning silver instruments. Gone was Fawkes the Phoenix who, for so long had sung a tune whenever Harry was around. Gone was even the Penseive.
"Professor, what's happened to the Penseive?" He asked.
"Professor Flitwick currently has it. He believes he will be able to extract some of the important memories for…Well, I mean, they're all important, but some of his memories about Voldemort, and maybe give them to the Ministry to help them with their search."
"No."
"What did you say?" McGonnagal looked surprised.
"I'm…I'm going to need some of that." Harry demanded.
"For what?" McGonnagal inquired.
"For…Well, frankly…So I can kill Voldemort."
She did not flinch. She did not move. They both stared into each others eyes for a moment. She broke first and looked down at her desk.
"Where have you been?" She asked softly of him.
"I can't tell you that."
"Well, you DAMN well have to!" She turned to him, eye's wide with an angry, frustrated look on her face. He'd seen her furious before, but never really shouting.
"Professor. I'm going to tell you something right now."
She did not move except to survey him quickly.
"There's this prophecy…" he explained the entire contents of the prophecy that was made so long ago. He did not tell her who had heard the prophecy, nor who made it. But explained what Dumbledore had explained to him so many times, that now these events have been put in motion, and no matter what, they cannot be stopped, he must kill Voldemort.
"But…How?" She had sat down now, calm, but dumbfounded.
"I can't tell you that." He told her as she looked up again, as if she was about to start shouting.
"Harry." She said. This confused him, he'd always called him Potter. But then he realized this wasn't about him.
"You don't think I can do it."
"No"
"I can"
"You'll die."
"I won't"
"You'll fail"
"I can't"
"You'll make it worse"
"I won't"
"You will be responsible for the deaths of hundreds"
Harry looked over at Professor McGonnagal. Her face looked older. The lines were etched deeper, her clothes looked frayed, her eyes looked distant.
"You know that I'll kill him."
"Voldemort will…"
"Not Voldemort."
She looked up at him.
"Snape"
She looked down again.
"I know."
"You're scared for him."
"Yes" She said quietly. "I'm ashamed, but Severus was my friend, my colleague. I'm quite aware that he murdered Albus. But he should not die."
"He will."
"He must die in Azkaban"
"What Azkaban!"
"What do you mean?" She looked up at him again, astonished.
"The dementors are working for Voldemort! What's keeping Wizards in Azkaban!" Harry shouted, standing now.
"I…The…"She looked as though this had never occurred to her. "Well, I'm sure everyone's safe and sound. I'll look into it."
"Well. If that's all." Harry made to leave.
"It's not." She put her hand up. "I called you here because I received an interesting package in the mail. And I thought you should know about it, especially now that you're on this…crusade."
"What is it?" Harry asked her.
"A photograph." she answered. He sat back down at her desk as she began rummaging through a series of drawers. "Here,"
She handed to him, and Harry froze. It was a Polaroid. The same kind of picture that MacNair had left them at their last murder scene.
"I think it's from…well…You-Know-Who" She said.
"Why do you say that?" Harry flipped it over.
He gasped and dropped it at what he saw.
"Exactly" She murmured, in a voice that said without saying 'I told you so.'
He picked it up again, there was Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny looking at a body. The man was a muggle named Morgan Havalard. He lived a few miles Outside Little Winging. That was Harry's birthday, he contacted the others and told him to meet him there. That was the day his protection stopped working. That was the last time he would ever see the Dursleys. It was that night, he went back, told his Aunt what was going on, packed a trunk and left. The others did the same, and they set off after an unknown death eater, who was now known to be MacNair.
"No."
"Sorry?"
"It was MacNair." He said.
"The Executioner?" McGonnagal said. "Listen Harry, where have you been? You and Miss Granger, and The Weasleys. What have you been doing?"
"This." He handed the picture to her.
"We've been Following MacNair. He took this picture. He took another picture tonight. Only he left that one for us."
"Of, What? What was in the picture? How do you know it's him?" McGonnagal sounded scared now.
"Him. He murdered Lee Jordan's Parents." Harry Said calmly.
"Goodness." She looked down at the photograph.
"The Picture he left." His eyes began to water. "It was of him. He was sitting…at their dinning room table…eating their food…"
"Potter," She sounded worried now.
"It's fine…He was…" He paused. "He had each of their bodies on either side. Dead…While eating their food."
"Potter," She was standing. She walked over to him and did something completely unexpected. She hugged him.
"Professor. I need to get back."
"I understand." She let go. "Ron's contacted the ministry about Mr. And Mrs. Jordan."
"Right, thank you Harry." His first name again. She raised her wand and muttered something under her breath. "You may apparate now." And with a loud CRACK, he vanished.
Ron was sitting at the desk. "Harry?" He turned away, and grabbed a tissue. He'd been crying.
"Ron, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Harry grumbled.
"No, It's fine." He looked over, a bit red in the eye area.
"I'm sorry, I'll just, go to sleep." He mumbled.
"No, It's fine," He said again. "What did McGonnagal want?"
"You know that picture…The one with the Jordan's in it." He asked.
"Yeah, Why?" Ron looked curious.
"She had one like it. But it wasn't the same." Harry said.'
"What?"
"She had another Polaroid picture, like the one we found, a muggle picture." Harry said.
"What was it?" Ron asked.
"It was us." Harry said. "MacNair took a picture of us."
"My God. Where?" Ron looked back at the box of tissues.
"Morgan Havalard's house. It was the four of us, looking at the body."
"That means…" Ron began.
"That he was there." Harry Finished. "That he was watching us doing our detective work….We're not tailing him." Harry picked up a pair of old socks and threw them hard at the wall. "He's tailing us."
"He's leading us somewhere." Ron said.
"It's a trap." Harry said. And now it's time to walk into it. He thought to himself. Ron turned off the light, and they both drifted off to sleep.
Next: The House of Smith
