Thanks to those who reviewed Chapter Six! Please continue to gorge me on your thoughts and critism!
Chapter Seven
Quidditch Match
Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall after the discovery of the Fat Lady's portrait, and they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."
One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him. The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Faykan, and Hermione; they seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner. As they settled them down, they were joined by Draco, who strode over from the group of Slytherins.
"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Draco whispered as he dropped his sleeping bag next to Faykan's.
"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Faykan.
"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione as they all climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the tower..."
"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."
"Unless…" Faykan muttered. Harry looked at him anxiously, but he shook his head.
All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"
"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away, "Just appear out of thin air, you know."
"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year. "He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.
"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to Harry and Ron, while Faykan and Draco laughed behind their hands.
"Obviously…" Draco said sarcastically.
"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"
The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, Harry felt as though he were sleeping outdoors in a light wind.
Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Harry watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Harry, Ron, Faykan, Draco and Hermione, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.
"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.
"No. All well here?"
"Everything under control, sir."
"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."
"And the Fat Lady, sir?"
"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."
Harry heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps. "Headmaster?" It was Snape. Harry kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."
"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"
"All searched."
"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."
"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.
Harry raised his head very slightly off his arms to free his other ear,
"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."
Harry opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore's back was to him, but he could see Percy's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.
"Might it be possible, Headmaster… I don't recall seeing Undol at the feast, or perhaps the, ah… other person we discussed when you appointed…"
"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."
"Didn't they want to help, sir?" asked Percy.
"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."
Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.
Harry glanced sideways at his friends. They all had their eyes open too, and they were all staring at Faykan, who was watching Dumbledore leaving the Great Hall.
"Fay," Harry began softly, "Where were you during the feast anyway?"
Faykan looked back at him, his blue eyes sparkling with the reflected light from the enchanted ceiling, "I was in our training room… studying…"
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Albus slumped into his office chair, releasing a repressed shudder. He had just come back from informing the dementors that Sirius Black was no longer in the castle. Thankfully, there was a steaming cup of hot chocolate waiting for him on his desk, which he drank greedily from; how he hated the dementors. In Albus' mind, they were the epitome of the darkness that he sought to combat, and yet the Ministry sought to use these creatures, as if they could extend any means of control over them.
Albus shook his head sadly at the thought, and turned back to the book he had recently acquired from the restricted section. Snape had given him a very important clue, Albus thought, to the mystery of one Mr. Faykan Undol. The book: 'Creatures of Utter Darkness' helped slightly to describe the being that Professor Lupin had witnessed Faykan's boggart become. Severus had given the final clue, their name that he had found in a potion's book of all places; Nazgûl.
Albus bent over the book to read the frighteningly short entry:
'The Nazgûl; Nine beings, rendered little more than phantoms wandering the plains of the physical world, are probably considered one of the most deadly and powerful dark creatures that ever walked the Earth. They are invisible to both muggle and wizard alike; if not for the black robes they wear to mark their path across our world. There have only been accounts of nine of these beings to ever exist, although the possibility of more is not impossible. Their main weapon is fear itself, along with the poison that permeates their physical weapons, which if not healed can cause the victim to become a wraith, similar to themselves but completely under their control. It is noted that according to legend that these beings are the original creators of dementors. Close or prolonged encounters with a Nazgûl is said to cause unconsciousness and nightmares, an effect known as 'the Black Breath.' The only known cure for this condition seems to be the herb Athelas, or Kingsfoil as it is more commonly known...'
Albus sighed, there was little here to work with. This book confirmed that a Nazgûl had caused the wound on Faykan's chest, and the boggart's appearance confirmed that the boy had probably encountered one, but that simply led to many more questions. Where in the world did the boy encounter such a being, and how did he survive? Unless…
Albus pulled out a parchment and started to write all the things he had discovered about Mr. Undol since he had arrived at Hogwarts two years ago, looking for connections, oddities, anything…
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The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.
The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.
"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"
"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer." Faykan snorted loudly, mentioning to Harry that it was more likely foolishness than bravery.
Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Harry's worries. He was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, and Percy Weasley (acting, Harry suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry into her office, with such a somber expression on her face Harry thought someone must have died.
"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," she said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black…"
"I know he's after me," said Harry wearily. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."
Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at Harry for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed, Potter…"
"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Harry, outraged. "I've got to train, Professor!"
Professor McGonagall considered him intently. Harry knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects; it had been she, after all, who'd suggested him as Seeker in the first Place. He waited, holding his breath.
"Hmm..." Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. "Well... goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last... but all the same, Potter... I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions."
Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione spent more and more time in the Room of Requirement with Faykan, just to avoid the push of people trying to watch Harry. Ron and Hermione kept practicing their weapons and spell casting, supervised by Faykan and Draco, while Harry worked on homework, read from his books, or simply watched his friends as they trained.
The day before the Quidditch match, they were relaxing in the sitting area of the room, and Faykan stood to speak, "It is time for me to prepare you all for the more advanced skills that I want to teach you." Hermione looked up from her book, while Ron pumped his arm in the air triumphantly.
Harry waited, eager to hear what Faykan was talking about.
"But," he said, which caused Ron to pause, "before I can teach you anything, you all need to learn Occlumency; the art of shielding one's mind."
"Why?" Draco asked, looking perplexed.
"Because, if… certain people… discovered what I was teaching you, they would stop at nothing to prevent you learning it. Therefore, to hide what you know, all four of you need to learn to cloud your minds from intruders."
Faykan motioned for them all to gather around the table, where the black orb was still sitting, covered in its cloth. "To help you all learn it easier than others had, I will be using the Palantír, in conjunction with my own abilities." Faykan pulled the cloth away, revealing the black orb with its silver grey clouds spiraling within. Hermione let out a small gasp of awe and Ron's eyes widened dramatically.
"This stone," Faykan explained, "allows users of strong will to look into space and time, and view locations far away. Ancient kings and rulers used it to manage the vast expanses of their territory, or spy on their enemies in times of war." Faykan paused, and looked at each of them in turn. "Over the next few months, I'll take each of you one by one, and use this Palantír to gaze into your minds, showing you how to build defenses from mental attacks; such as possession and legilimency. I will not try to look at your memories, or influence you to do anything you do not wish to. I ask for your trust and permission to do this, because I will not force this upon anyone who is unwilling."
His eyes stopped directly on Hermione. Harry saw her shaking slightly, but slowly nod her agreement. Everyone else followed suit as Faykan's gaze landed on them in turn.
"Very well." Faykan said as he recovered the Palantír. "We will begin after the Quidditch match." A clock chimed somewhere in the room, signaling that it was time for them to get to their classes. They all collected their things and hurried out the door. Harry saw Hermione cast a last look toward the table with the Palantír, before she closed the door and hurried after them.
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Sirius shivered in the cold wind as he stalked through the trees on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds. Crookshanks was supposed to bring him some information soon, but he had felt the dementors pass several hours ago, and he knew they were going to patrol back soon.
Looking up at the overcast sky, Sirius panted unhappily. He had no idea what time it was anymore. Some time in the early morning, if his guess was right. He was itching to try and enter the castle again, try and attack Peter, and avenge James and Lily. But it was too soon, and he had no means of entering Gryffindor Tower. Hopefully his friend did, and would show up soon with good news.
Lightning flashed, and Sirius saw the outline of a smaller animal making its way towards his hiding place. 'Good', Sirius thought, 'Crookshanks at last.' Something was off about how his friend was acting though. He was weaving slowly toward him, pausing to listen as if he was worried he would be followed. During the next flash, Sirius saw that the body moving toward him wasn't the fire orange of Crookshanks… it was jet black. Eyes stared through the gloom, boring right into Sirius; bright blue eyes that shown with dazzling clarity. The same blasted fox that he had seen near Gryffindor Tower ambled up to him, seeming tiny with its fur matted against its body. The fox looked at Sirius, craning its head slightly as it entered the dry patch between the trees.
Sirius gaped at the animal, his tongue lolling out, as it slowly changed into a young boy, no older than thirteen. 'The same age as Harry,' Sirius thought as the boy shuddered at the sudden loss of his warm fur. Wrapping his arms around his body he sat against the tree, using it as a shield between himself and the wind and rain, as he studied Sirius.
"I've shown you my secret Sirius Black, now you may show me yours," he said calmly.
Sirius started to panic; this boy knew he was an animagus. Backing away slightly, he only stopped when he boy spoke again. "I'm Harry Potter's best friend Sirius; you have nothing to fear from me."
Sirius considered his options, on one hand, this boy clearly didn't fear him and probably meant him no harm, but on the other hand, the dementors would be back soon. Casting discretion to the wind, Sirius stepped forward and changed back into his human form. "What do you want?" He said gruffly. The boy merely smiled, his calm eyes continuing to pierce right through Sirius' body.
"To inform you of Crookshanks delay, and that he was unable to find other ways into Gryffindor Tower."
Sirius cursed, but the boy continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.
"Also, I want to inform you that Harry will be playing Quidditch tomorrow against Slytherin. He's Gryffindor's seeker, youngest one in a century at Hogwarts."
Sirius smiled at this news. He had watched some of Harry's practices and he was so proud of how well the boy could fly. But he had to focus on the matter at hand, "Why?" he asked.
"Because I believe that you are innocent, and as Harry's friend I must do everything in my power to make him happy. You being free will definitely accomplish that, after he learns who you are and what you represent to him." The boy replied with a shrug.
"But…" Sirius began before being cut off by the boy again. 'Honestly, he's just like Lupin used to be.' Sirius thought fondly. "I want to help you, but I need to know your side of the story Sirius. Let me help you…"
Sirius sighed, thankful that there was at least some deity out there that still cared about him by sending this boy to help him save Harry…
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Five minutes into the game, Draco was soaked through and felt like he was frozen to his broom. Casting a quick glance over to Harry, who was squinting around for the Snitch, Draco noticed that his friend looked no worse off then he felt. He swerved back and forth, trying to see through the dense rain and wind to see a slight glimmer of gold. The wind was howling, and it drowned out the commentary to the point where Draco couldn't tell what the score was.
Someone called for a timeout, judging by the sharp whistle from Madam Hooch. Draco landed and started to shiver violently. Flint informed him that Gryffindor was up by fifty points, and that Draco needed to get the Snitch as fast as possible. Peering across the pitch, Draco could see Faykan and Hermione trying to help Harry who was shivering just as bad as Draco. Faykan passed by him on his way back to the stands at the end of the timeout, and Draco smiled, feeling the silent, wandless warming charm immediately take affect.
Full of fresh determination, Draco urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, and skimming over Harry. Draco turned, looked at Harry for a second, and then saw it; the glint of the Snitch. He sped after it and heard the Gryffindor captain yell at Harry, warning him of Draco's movement.
Draco urged his broom faster, if he could just get to the Snitch first… but then something very odd happened. Harry, who was neck and neck with Draco now, widened his eyes in horror. An eerie silence had fallen across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Draco had suddenly gone deaf.
Then a horrible wave of cold swept over him, and he became aware of many things gliding over the field below the speeding seekers.
At least a hundred dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at the two seekers, were standing beneath them. Draco screamed, and dived forward, feeling something slam into his fist as he stared, wide eyed, as Harry slumped over and fell off his broom and into the mass of black cloaked dementors.
Then two booming voices, both sounding great and terrible at once sounded together.
"Aresto Momentum!" sounded the first while the other cried, "Expecto Patronum!"
Draco's eyes snapped downward. Harry's fall had slowed considerably, and a large silver bird had erupted from the stands, soaring upward and barreling into the nearest dementor, scratching it with talons and beak. Draco spun around to get a good look at it; it was a giant eagle. The dementors were fleeing from the great bird of prey as it dove and slashed at each in turn, driving them away from Harry.
Something fluttered in Draco's hand and he looked to find the Snitch clutched in his fist…
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Madam Pomfrey had thrown out the Gryffindor Quidditch after ten minutes of them visiting Harry, but Hermione, Ron, and Faykan remained, moving closer to Harry when she turned to them. She sighed and closed the door to her office to block out their conversation.
Harry groaned, Slytherin had won the match, only by around fifty points but a defeat was still a defeat. As if reading his thoughts Ron spoke up, "Draco tried to get them to have a rematch, but he said Flint wouldn't hear of it. He threatened to kick Draco off the team if he didn't accept the win."
"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Faykan whirled his wand at the dementors at the same moment. He conjured a silver eagle to attack them. They left the stadium right away... Dumbledore was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him…"
"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…"
His voice faded, but Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking about what the dementors had done to him... about the screaming voice. He looked up and saw his three friends watching him anxiously.
"Did someone get my Nimbus?"
All three of them looked quickly at each other.
"Err…"
"What?" Harry asked in confusion, looking from face to face.
"Well... when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.
"And?"
"And it hit… it hit… oh, Harry… it hit the Whomping Willow."
Harry's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree that stood alone in the middle of the grounds.
"And?" he said, dreading the answer.
"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Faykan. "It doesn't like being hit."
"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around, said Hermione in a very small voice.
Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten, broomstick.
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Hermione headed to the Room of Requirement early Sunday morning, hoping to get some early reading in before the scheduled training session with Faykan. He had postponed the Occlumency lessons until Harry was out of the Hospital Wing, stating that it was easier to start teaching them the basics together, but Hermione could tell that he was too worried about Harry to teach them anything new.
As she approached the room, Hermione noticed that the door was already in place on the wall, meaning that someone was already inside. Pushing the door open slowly, Hermione could see that the room was cast in shadows, the only light coming from the lounge area off to the side.
Edging into the room, Hermione could see the silhouette of Faykan, his back to Hermione. She could hear him muttering to himself, but the voice was clearly not his, it was deep and resonant, "I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned 'wilith," [1]. Hermione, now intently curious, moved to stand right beside Faykan, who didn't even notice her presence. He was gazing deeply into the Palantír, one hand hovering over the stone.
Glancing down at the stone, Hermione's eyes widened when she saw Harry's face surrounded by the swirling grey mists.
"So... much pain…" Faykan murmured, and Hermione saw tears running down his face. She realized that this was one of the only times she had ever seen the boy openly crying. Gathering her courage, she placed a hand on Faykan's shoulder to return him to reality.
The hand over the Palantír withdrew as she made contact, and slowly Faykan tore his eyes away from Harry's face, turning to face Hermione.
"We all have our secrets," he said slowly, while he placed his opposite hand on Hermione's. "I trust you'll keep mine out of respect for my privacy…"
"You really care about him… don't you…?" Hermione breathed. She had never considered that Faykan dwelt on Harry's wellbeing to the point of obsession.
He smiled slightly, "More than anyone could possibly imagine…"
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It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where he was forced to think about other things, even if he had to endure Theodore Nott's taunting. Nott was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Harry falling off his broom. Nott spent much of their next Potions class doing dementor imitations across the dungeon, until Faykan sent a stinging hex across the room at him, under the tables. Snape had given him a detention, and also docked twenty five points from Gryffindor.
"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch. "Check who's in there, Hermione."
Snape had been their substitute during their last class, which had disgruntled all of the students because of the ridiculous amount of homework he had assigned.
Hermione peered around the classroom door.
"It's okay!"
Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behavior while Lupin had been ill.
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"
"We don't know anything about werewolves. Two rolls of parchment!"
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.
The babble broke out again.
"Yes, but he said we were really behind, he wouldn't listen…"
"…two rolls of parchment!"
Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.
"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."
"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"
They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a hinkypunk, a little one legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.
"Lures travelers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as they took notes.
"You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead, people follow the light, then…"
The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass. When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Harry among them, but…
"Wait a moment, Harry," Lupin called. "I'd like a word."
[1] I amar prestar aen, han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae, a han noston ned 'wilith : The world is changed; I can feel it in the water, I can feel it in the Earth, I can smell it in the air.
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