Chapter 24
I Like to Swim
Ginny and Hermione finished their ritual ministrations before retiring to their beds in the boys' fifth-year dormitory. Earlier they tended to Harry briefly, making sure he drank plenty of water before he left for his bed relatively early in the evening. Emotionally exhausted themselves, the girls soon began their own preparations. Ginny observed Hermione closely during the process, noting that the older witch's mood had changed from distressed to buoyant.
Finally slipping between the sheets of their beds, Ginny asked tersely, "How'd it go with Harry? Pretty well by the looks of you."
Hermione did not immediately notice Ginny's tone of voice, still deeply relieved by Harry's agreement with her actions. She stretched out in her bed and smiled broadly at her friend.
"Great. Harry said that I did the right thing. That he was proud of me. I can't tell you how that removed a load from my shoulders. I feel like I've been walking on air ever since."
"Hmm," Ginny replied from her bed, propping her head on an elbow, "I don't know why you felt so badly in the first place." This time Hermione noticed the lack of warmth in Ginny's voice, and the smile left her lips.
"I shouldn't have, I know," Hermione answered defensively, "but I just couldn't help it. I've never left Harry like that. It felt wrong, but Harry convinced me that it was the right thing to do." She did not smile this time, instead turning onto her side to look at Ginny.
For her part, Ginny's eyes narrowed, clearly perturbed. Hermione quickly tried to review what she had done during the evening that may have offended Ginny, but she could think of nothing. Both girls remained silent for an uncomfortable period of time.
For a moment, Hermione considered letting it be, but finally she could not resist the urge to ask, "Is something wrong, Ginny? You look upset."
Ginny glared at her friend. After the turmoil of the last days, she unconsciously searched for someone to blame for her misfortune, and Hermione could serve that purpose admirably.
"Yes, something's wrong," she spat, "I don't think you've been telling me everything. What exactly have Harry and you been doing together for the past week? Why did Harry take you to that room tonight? Why couldn't he tell you in the common room?"
So, that's what it is, Hermione mused, She thinks I'm stealing Harry from her. She smiled weakly.
"We didn't do anything, Ginny. Not what you're talking about. I'm not trying to steal Harry from you, if that's what you're thinking. I didn't do anything to cause him to break up with you."
Ginny continued to stare. Deep down she believed Hermione, even though part of her did not want to. Nevertheless, Hermione acted unusually today, and Ginny could not help but believe that her behavior resulted from more than mere concern for a friend.
"Then maybe you need to think about what you really feel for Harry," Ginny replied sharply before she could restrain herself, "Maybe you'll discover something about yourself that you didn't know. Nox." Ginny waved her wand at the lamp above her bed, extinguishing it before she rolled over, her back facing Hermione.
What's gotten into her? Hermione asked herself, and she also put out her lamp and made herself comfortable in the bed. In the darkness, she could not help but think about Ginny's unexpected question, beginning a long internal dialogue. What DO I feel about Harry?
xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx
One by one, Lord Voldemort flexed his fingers. For the first time since he regained his body, he could flex them almost normally. He knew that he slept many hours, longer than he had in decades, but clearly reintegration of part of his soul into his body had the desired effect.
Sliding out of bed, he walked around the large chamber for a few moments and noticed that he could shuffle along much more quickly than before. No, he could not run a marathon, but the ability to move more freely energized him.
Peter rushed into the room, his sixth sense informing him that the dark lord had awakened. Voldemort turned towards him, and his lips formed what almost looked like a smile.
"As you can see, Wormtail, I have recuperated. Dress me."
Peter knew that the dark lord never explains, and he also knew not to ask. Obviously the killing of the snake, whose carcass remained by the wall, somehow facilitated this miraculous recovery, but why or how, Peter would never know.
"Yes, Master," he replied as if the events of the past days never occurred. He opened the closet.
"Today, Wormtail, we have work to attend to. I myself shall breach the wards around Hogwarts."
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"You what?!" hissed Kingsley Shacklebolt, looking left and right furtively.
"I made a copy of this document from the Minister's office," Cho repeated less enthusiastically than before, having slipped the copy of the Hogwarts Occupation Plans into the auror's pocket.
"Cho! You don't know what you've done. There are portraits in that office. You have to leave immediately. How long ago?"
Her mouth agape, Cho could not answer. In a flash, her predicament, of which she had been blissfully ignorant before, became crystal clear. She would be arrested and questioned, probably under the effects of veritaserum. She would be forced to disclose the identities of her contacts. She would be imprisoned.
"How long?" Kingsley repeated urgently, "Cho!"
"Yesterday, late afternoon," she informed him in a frightened whisper, "What am I going to do?" The normally poised teenager suddenly sounded like a frightened child.
"In here," Kingsley ordered her, opening the door of a closet. Fortunately, they met in a lightly traveled section of the Ministry, and Kingsley felt fairly confident that they had not been seen. Nevertheless, he could not risk the chance of her walking to the normal apparation area. Luck had been on their side, for Minister Scrimgeour set aside the previous afternoon and this morning for official visits to several cities throughout England and Scotland. Still, the portraits could have informed other officials. Cho's arrest would be catastrophic. He had to resort to desperate measures.
Gazing about the tiny cluttered storage closet, into which the pair barely fit, the auror found an empty bucket next to his feet. He grabbed it by the handle and held it chest high. After waving the wand in an intricate fashion, his eyes tightly closed in concentration, he tapped the bucket with his wand.
"Portus." He took a deep breath and then stared severely at Cho. He would have like to chew her out for a good half an hour, but time did not permit it. "Look, if your arrest has not been ordered, it will be soon. We have to hide you. This bucket will take you to the living room of the Burrow. Molly Weasley will be there. Explain the situation to her. Tell her that she needs to hide you until we can move you to a safe location. You understand that we cannot allow you to be arrested."
Realizing her blunder, Cho's dark eyes appeared on the verge of tears, but she answered, "I understand. I 'm so sorry. I didn't think. . ."
"Obviously," Kingsley interjected. He tapped the bucket again, and handed the illegal portkey to her. Fortunately, he knew how to make the portkey in a manner extremely difficult to track, a trick that Professor Dumbledore taught him years earlier. "It will take effect in ten seconds. Whatever happens, Cho, DO NOT allow yourself to be arrested. Do what you're told."
She nodded her understanding, her face full of fear, and a moment later she disappeared.
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Harry ate two full plates of food in the morning, pleasing the house elves no end, and he felt fantastic. Still not sure how this horcrux may have affected him, for the moment he could not complain. Repeatedly he informed his curious friends that he felt fine. Better than fine. Fully recovered. The four friends sat comfortably in the common room, allowing their breakfasts to settle before deciding on the plan for the day.
Then for the first time in their presence, his eyes began to glow again, much brighter and longer than before, more than fifteen seconds. Ginny and Hermione had been standing a few feet away from him in the common room, and they both froze at the sight. Their mouths fell open, and their eyes widened. Ron previously saw the eyes after Harry had absorbed the horcrux, but still found himself amazed. Once his eyes returned to normal, Harry could not fail to notice the astonished expressions of the two girls.
"I can't help it," he explained, "it just happens. I can't figure out any rhyme or reason to it. Completely random as far as I can tell." He did not seem especially concerned.
"What do you see when you're eyes are . . . like that?" asked Hermione in a concerned voice.
Harry's face remained impassive, and after a pause, he turned his head away and answered, "Nothing. Nothing that you'd want to know." He seemed a little embarrassed.
"Why not?" Ginny asked, "Why wouldn't we want to know?"
"You just wouldn't," he replied ominously. Naturally, his answer only piqued the curiosity of the two girls to extreme levels, and for the next five minutes, they pestered Harry to tell them. He tried his best to fend them off, but finally they broke through his defenses.
"All right," he declared, raising his hands in surrender, "but remember that I didn't want to tell you." His three friends stared at him expectantly, dying from curiosity. Harry turned his head away from the girls. "I can see you . . ., well, . . ., I can see you without your clothes. My eyes just see right though clothes, just while their glowing. Then they go back to normal."
Harry looked down at his feet, avoiding any possibility of eye contact with the girls. For their part, their mouths nearly fell to their knees.
"Are you serious, Harry?" Hermione gasped, "I mean. Really?" The normally loquacious witch struggled to find words. Ginny seemed completely incapable of speech. Harry nodded, keeping his eyes to the floor.
"I tried not to tell you," he defended himself quietly, "I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about it."
Ron looked on with eyes wide. Suddenly the thought of trading places with Harry Potter did not seem so horrible. Sure, he had to deal with horcruxes, a prophecy, and ultimately a show down with Lord Voldemort, but that almost seemed worth it now.
"Wicked!" the red headed wizard exhaled, a lecherous smile forming on his lips. The two girls threw him angry glances, but he did not care. "Can you see me too? Without clothes, I mean, or is it only girls."
"No, I can see you too. Anyone. But you know, you're not quite as interesting as they are, if you know what I mean. No offense." Harry continued to look between his feet.
"No offense taken," Ron laughed, "So how do they look?"
"RONALD WEASLEY!" shouted Hermione, "HOW DARE YOU!"
Her anger only caused Ron to laugh even harder, and he had to look away.
"You shouldn't look at us when it . . . happens," Hermione told Harry, "I mean, I didn't see you looking away from us."
Harry kept an embarrassed face, but he stood up and turned away from the two girls, apparently too guilty to face them. Ron could see his face perfectly, however, and he saw the barest hint of a smirk. Then Harry winked at him. Ron almost lost it, but managed not change his expression.
"I'm a seventeen-year old boy, Hermione," he answered incredulously, "What else am I going to do? Do you really expect me to look away? Besides, you're both extremely . . . fit, if you know what I mean." His lips formed a smirk that only Ron could see.
"HARRY!" both girls shouted simultaneously, both enraged and embarrassed.
"Right!" Ron agreed instantly, "Don't be daft. This is every teenaged boy's dream come true. What do you expect?"
A lengthy silence ensued, Harry still facing away from the girls, who could not think of what to say or do. Rarely had two girls remained silent for such a length of time. They did not like it, but if Harry could not help it, what could they do?
Ron and Harry made eye contact again, and Harry's mouth involuntarily curled into a smile, which caused Ron's to do the same. Harry's smile turned into a toothy grin while Ron, whose face remained visible to the girls, tried hard to maintain a straight face. The muscles in his cheeks tightened. Finally the two boys could hold out no longer.
First a soft chuckle. Then louder. Then the first true laugh. As the two best mates looked at each other, they egged each other on, and in a few seconds, they both laughed from the belly.
"This is NOT funny," a clearly irritated Ginny yelled, "You shouldn't be laughing about it."
But when Harry turned to face the two girls, they saw guilt on his face, and slowly realized that they had been had. As Harry saw their faces gradually understand what had happened, he only laughed harder.
"OOOOHHHH!" Hermione growled, "You invented the whole story, didn't you?"
Harry could only maintain his sheepish grin and nod. The next thing he knew, several pillows flew in his direction, and finally he allowed himself to laugh fully, Ron joining him. When the pillows hit him, he fell back onto the sofa, then rolled off of it onto the floor, laughing as hard as he ever had in his entire life. The two girls shouted epithets at him that he barely heard, given the noise from Ron and his own laughter. Ron nearly fell out of his chair as well, and the girls directed a few pillows in his direction.
Finally Hermione and Ginny finished their acts of violence towards the boys, and despite their anger at being so thoroughly deceived, they also felt relief that Harry had only been joking.
"You got us, Harry," Hermione finally admitted while shaking her head, "You REALLY got us." Ginny nodded her agreement, and the two girls finally smiled. Ron and Harry eventually regained control of their abdominal muscles, and Harry pulled himself back onto the sofa.
"That was brilliant, Harry," Ron exclaimed, "Too bad it wasn't true."
Ginny glared briefly at her brother, but decided to let it pass without comment, instead asking Harry, "So what do you see when your eyes glow?"
He shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing special. Everything becomes a little brighter and blurry, but that's it." One last pillow hit him squarely in the face.
As they settled down, Hermione reflected. Harry had never been a deceptive person; in fact, he had always been a terrible liar. Yet here he tricked Ginny and her completely. She bought Harry's story hook, line and sinker, even though looking back she should have been more wary about it. Was this the change brought about by the most recent horcrux? Would Harry now become a deceptive person? Someone who couldn't be trusted?
xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx
That same morning, an ashen-faced Rufus Scrimgeour, just returned from his travels, reached out to find the arm of his chair in the Minister of Magic's office. Unsteadily, he sat down.
"Are you completely certain, Alfred?" he asked, already knowing the answer, for the portraits of former Ministers of Magic hanging in the office had been charmed to serve the current Minister, just as the portraits in the headmistress' office at Hogwarts serve the current holder of that post.
In general, Alfred Hagen, a revered Minister of Magic from the seventeenth century, acted as spokesman for the two dozen portraits hanging in the expansive office. The very image of dignity, with serious eyes and a long, grey beard, the red-robed former Minister merely nodded slowly.
"I am not in the habit of prevaricating, Minister Scrimgeour," Hagen's deep voice replied indignantly, "You are free to questions the others if you require confirmation."
Scrimgeour shook his head, "That will not be necessary, Mr. Hagen. I do not mean to insult you. This is just quite a shock. I've known Miss Chang for her entire life; her parents are friends and supporters." He sat for a minute in silence, deep in thought, and Alfred Hagen, as usual, did not interrupt. Finally Scrimgeour glanced up at Hagen's portrait, murmuring, "Thank you, Mr. Hagen. We will do what we have to do." Hagen nodded and returned to his ornately carved throne-like chair.
Within moments, Scrimgeour issued the order to arrest Cho Chang. Unknown to him, Cho at that very moment sat crestfallen in one of the upper bedrooms of the Burrow, with the shades drawn. She knew that the Order of the Phoenix was working frantically to find the best place to hide her, and she lay on the old, uncomfortable bed, feeling completely helpless.
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Peter Pettigrew had never seen the dark lord in better physical condition than at this moment. Even before his disappearance after the events at Godric's Hollow so many years before, Lord Voldemort's numerous magical experiments on himself had diminished a number of his physical capabilities. His rebirth in the graveyard at Little Hangleton left him even more physically disabled, though he remained a magnificently powerful wizard.
Certainly the dark lord could not have walked unassisted through the uneven surface of the Forbidden Forest. Peter and he arrived deep in the forest that Voldemort knew intimately from his days as a formless spirit. For reasons that Voldemort did not see fit to explain, they walked back and forth in the forest, seemingly at random, though Peter knew that the dark lord never acted randomly. Voldemort said nothing during this time, but at times would hold out his arms, as if feeling something in the air. Peter tagged along.
Finally they reached the margin of the wards around the Hogwarts grounds, which extended a few hundred yards from the far edge of the lake. For the first time, Voldemort removed his wand, and Peter saw him flicking it ahead of him, silently casting unknown spells, attempting to determine how to overcome the obstacle.
After fifteen minutes of this, Peter tired and lazily waved his wand to a muttered spell, transfiguring a fallen branch into a chair. He sat and silently observed Voldemort's back, his long black robe fluttering in the soft breeze of the comfortably warm afternoon. Under the shadows of large pines and alders, Peter chuckled under his breath that he should have brought a picnic basket.
Another hour passed, and neither wizard noticed the keen eyes of two centaurs spying them from a distance. They immediately recognized the dark lord, or better said, sensed his presence. Normally the sensitive creatures would have confronted the two humans, capturing them and bringing them back to the herd, where they ultimately would meet their fate. The two centaurs on this occasion, however, knew better. After silently observing for several minutes, they edged away without creating a sound. The elders needed to be informed immediately.
At last, Voldemort turned around and for the first time acknowledged Peter, who wondered why the dark lord brought him in the first place. As far as he could tell, he had provided no assistance at all, especially now that the dark lord could move more easily on his own.
"I believe I have discovered the secret, Wormtail. These wards are more advanced than I suspected, no doubt devised by Dumbledore. But they can be breached, at a cost. Come. I must make preparations. Tomorrow we shall act."
xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx
By early afternoon, Harry determined that he needed to move on to the next horcrux, Hufflepuff's Cup, located somewhere at the bottom of the lake next to Hogwarts. The four friends made their way down by the lake, sitting in the shade of a small group of trees atop a small rise overlooking the body of water.
Harry explained that he knew that the cup lay somewhere at the bottom of the expanse of water, but he had no idea where. He could "see" in his mind a gravelly area next to a few boulders and craggy rocks, hardly a great help.
"Look, I know the lake is huge," Harry explained, "but I seem to be able to sense the horcruxes when I come close to them, so it's just a matter of going down there and looking for it. I'm going to need a lot of gillyweed. It may take days, or even weeks, but there's no other way. Unless one of you has a brilliant idea?"
They did not. The view of the lake from their vantage point convincingly displayed the difficult task ahead of them. Apart from its size, the lake had a number of fingers that crept up shallow canyons. This could take forever, and they all knew of the some of the dangers that lurked at the bottom. Merpeople, the giant squid, and much more.
"I don't think there's any gillyweed here, Harry," Hermione informed him, "After you used Snape's stash of it, only a little bit remained, and when it dried out, it had to be thrown away."
"You can't get something like gillyweed just anywhere. It's not illegal, but it's not considered 'proper,' if you know what I mean, " Ron added, "I don't think you'll find it at your normal apothecaries. Probably you'd need to go to Knockturn Alley or someplace like that."
"Fine," Harry nodded, "I'll go there today and buy some." He did not seem to be the least bit concerned about entering one of the most dangerous areas of the wizarding world, filled with hags, vampires, and dark wizards of every description."
"You can't just go there, Harry. It's far too dangerous," Hermione argued, "And you'd be recognized. Word will get to Voldemort that you bought gillyweed. He'll figure out what you're up to." Harry stared at her for a considerable length of time, and somehow the others knew that he did not wish to be interrupted. Finally he leaned back on his arms and answered.
"Good. I want him to know." He stood up, and the other followed his lead. "I'll just go back to the room to get my money, and I'll be off."
"But Harry, it's too dangerous," Ginny warned more urgently, "If you go, you should go with guards." Ron and Hermione nodded their agreement, but Harry merely smiled, turning towards the castle.
"I can take care of myself," he declared matter-of-factly. Not the least bit concerned, he walked ahead. The others ran briefly to catch up.
"If you're going, then we are too," Hermione informed him forcefully, ready to do battle if Harry resisted. But Harry merely shrugged.
"Suit yourself."
Since they had not yet lunched, the four Gryffindors decided to enjoy the midday meal at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, before making the trek to Knockturn Alley. Harry again ate a copious amount, as did Ron, but the girls clearly suffered from nerves. Hermione had been to Knockturn Alley once, Ginny never, and both of them questioned the necessity and wisdom of traveling there. Why not send a house elf or someone from the Order of the Phoenix? Why not someone like Remus Lupin, a werewolf who could certainly take care of himself?
Though they gingerly attempted to raise these points with Harry, he merely scoffed and informed them that they could stay behind if they preferred. Hermione especially found that to be no option at all. After she suffered so profoundly when she left Harry behind in the furnace room the previous evening, she would not dream of allowing Harry to enter another dangerous situation on his own.
Thus the four young wizards and witches soon walked from the wide streets of Diagon Alley towards the narrow paths that wound their way through the section of town known as Knockturn Alley. Ron, Hermione and Ginny wanted to slow down their pace as they walked deeper into the grime, but they had to keep up with Harry, who strode down the middle of the narrow street as if he owned it. Despite his slight physique, he appeared much larger due to the black robe billowing behind him. Glancing left and right, he searched for an apothecary, but initially did not find one.
An especially ugly hag spied them from a narrow side alley and thought she found an easy mark. Short on cash, she thought she would take advantage of the opportunity to relieve these clean-cut youngsters of theirs. Jumping out suddenly in front of them, she contorted her face into an especially horrible expression, intending to scare the pants off of them. She three-fourths succeeded, as Hermione and Ginny screamed while Ron's heart nearly stopped beating.
Before they knew what happened, however, the hag floated in the air, and her back smacked the wall of a nearby shop, knocking the wind out of her. Harry's wand pointed directly at her chest, pinning her. Astonished at the speed with which her plan failed, the hag glared venomously at the young wizard, but Harry approached her quite serenely. He lifted her another three feet above the ground, implicitly threatening to drop her.
"I appreciate your greeting, madam," he taunted her with a smile, "and we'll be pleased to accept your offer of assistance. We are looking for the nearest apothecary. If you know what's good for you, you'll give us directions." The smile left his face, and he glared at her angrily. The hag remained silent for a few seconds, half in shock, but the sight of Harry's eyes glowing briefly convinced her to cooperate.
"Two more blocks," she croaked in a high-pitched voice, "on your left."
Harry lowered her almost to the street surface, but instead of setting her down gently, he flicked his wand, causing the hag to hit the cobblestone surface hard, rolling over a couple of times. By the time she gathered herself, the boy already strode purposefully down the street, the three others hurrying behind him.
An onlooker noticed Harry's scar, and soon word spread that Harry Potter had arrived in Knockturn Alley, the last place anyone would have expected to find him. By the time they walked the final blocks to Jamison & Simmons Exotic Apothecary, a small crowd lined the narrow avenue, which only increased the nerves of Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They glanced side to side at the various creatures watching them, a man who appeared to be a vampire, a goblin down on his luck, a couple of witches so ugly that perhaps they actually were hags.
As Hermione watched Harry striding unconcernedly ahead, his wand dangling from his fingers, the resemblance dawned on her. He was acting just like Professor Dumbledore. She could perfectly visualize the old headmaster walking down these same streets without a care in the world, completely confident that he could deal with any problems which may arise. Maybe Harry would become another Albus Dumbledore, she thought hopefully.
But of course, Lord Voldemort must have similar characteristics. No doubt he would walk down these same streets without fear. So was Harry becoming another Dumbledore or another Voldemort? Or something in between?
Her musings ended when Harry turned left through the door of Jamison & Simmons, which by Knockturn Alley standards appeared to be a successful enterprise. Larger and better maintained than most of the other nearby shops, Hermione thought that with a little tender loving care, it would not look especially out of place in Diagon Alley. Inside, however, her skin crawled.
Cage after cage of beetles and insects lined one wall, many of them rare and of questionable legality, and a loud, irritating buzz filled the store. In the center of the shop, numerous bins held ingredients of every kind and character, some of them normal, others of which they had never heard. The narrow aisles could barely allow two people to edge by each other sideways, but the four teens made their way to the counter on the far wall.
An elderly man, barely five feet tall and anorexically thin, peered over the counter, while a taller, younger woman stopped what she was doing when she saw the unexpected approach of the four clean-cut young wizards and witches. Harry stood before the man, placing a pouch full of galleons and knuts in front of him. The man tilted his head back and immediately focused on the tell-tale scar. Harry paused for a moment to allow the man to understand who stood in front of him. The man remained silent.
"I need all the gillyweed you have," Harry announced, "I can pay." The man glanced at the bulging pouch.
"An' wha' woul' yer wan' with so much gillywee'," the man replied in an accent that Harry could not place and could barely understand. Harry stared severely at him, indicating that he did not appreciate the question.
"I like to swim."
The two men stared at each other, and Harry could see that the old man rapidly calculated a response to the unexpected request. No doubt the man dealt either directly or indirectly with Lord Voldemort and his death eaters, and they may not appreciate him dealing with the boy who famously sent the dark lord into oblivion years before.
"I'm all out," the old man informed Harry abruptly, and moved to walk away.
"Constrictus," Harry said quietly not even a second later, pointing his wand at the man. Immediately he grabbed his throat, unable to breath and making choking sounds. The woman, who had followed the interaction carefully, immediately reached for her wand, only to have three wands pointed at her. She retracted her hand, and Ginny quickly grabbed the wand. Ron turned around to see if anyone else in the shop may be threatening them, but they were the only customers.
"You might want to search your memory," Harry hissed at the old man, whose face contorted in the effort to inhale, "I won't be so nice next time." Harry lifted his wand, and the man crumpled to the floor, gasping. But the young wizard only gave him a couple of seconds to recuperate, roughly grabbing the back of the old man's robe and dragging him into the storage rooms behind the counter. "Where is it?" he snarled.
The old man pointed to his right, and Harry found a large tin tub full of the rubbery plant that would allow him to swim like a fish in the lake. Ron and Ginny stood guard at the door while Hermione approached Harry.
"Take him," Harry instructed her, swinging him involuntarily towards her. Hermione grabbed a handful of robe as well, her other hand pointing her wand at the man's chest. The elderly man continued to gasp for breath, recuperating slowly.
Harry quickly removed several galleons from his pouch and dropped them on the floor. He did not bother to count them, nor to ask how much the gillyweed cost. Placing the money pouch back into the pocket of his robe, he lifted the tub with both of his hands and moved towards the back door of the shop. Ron and Ginny left their posts to follow him while Hermione continued to hold the old man. Ginny tossed the female employee's wand to the floor just as Harry abruptly stopped and turned around.
"My name is Harry Potter. Maybe you've heard of me. Feel free to spread the word." Harry smirked and continued out the door.
Hermione needed to leave as well, but she could not decide what to do with the old man, who finally was breathing almost normally. She did not want to give him a chance to react if she freed him.
"Come on, Hermione," Ron urged her from just inside the door, "We need to go."
"What should I do with him?" she asked, not sounding as sure of herself as she normally did.
"Stupefy."
The man fell to the floor only partially restrained by Hermione's hold. Ron's wand returned to his side, having solved that minor problem. Hermione let go of the robe and rushed after the others. Once outside in a dingy lot behind Jamison & Simmons Exotic Apothecary, the four teens apparated back to the front gate of Hogwarts.
Levitating the tub of gillyweed on the uphill hike back to the castle, the four friends conversed little, still contemplating what they had just accomplished. They returned to the Gryffindor common room.
To their enormous shock, they found an extremely uncomfortable Cho Chang waiting for them.