Disclaimer: Everything you recognize is J.K. Rowling's. Except for Jamie, Luka, and Ariana.
Chapter 28- The Parting of the Ways
I knew that people sometimes shut down when faced with extreme emotional situations, but I was seriously starting to worry about Ariana Dumbledore. She only spoke one word replies when asked direct yes or no questions, all the way to the hospital room.
Madam Pomfrey was already busy tending to the wounds of Victor Krum and Fleur Delacour, but when she laid eyes on Ariana, a grim expression settled there. "Pendragon, bring her over to a cot." She snaps, and with a nod of my head, I lead her to an empty bed.
Luka is shooting glances at the worried Delacour family crowding around the battered body of Fleur. The young Gabrielle was looking particularly lost while waiting to see if her big sister was going to be all right. I help Ariana down onto the soft bed, and attempt to extract my hand from hers gently, but if anything her grip tightens.
I glance at Luka worriedly. He seems torn between staying and comforting the unresponsive Ariana, or going to the lost and ignored little girl. "Luka, I'll be fine here. Just go all ready." I say softly. He jumps startled, but then turns back to the small blond girl. I know that he had talked to her after her rescue in the lake. I guess that she made more of an impression than first thought.
"I— I don't know what you mean." Luka sputters trying to cover up his shock. I sigh and rub my thumb softly over the back of Ariana's hand.
"Despite common belief, I am smarter than I act. I will be fine here, I'm not going anywhere." I promise him. Luka nods his head once, and presses a soft kiss to Ariana's forehead, before walking over to the scared and forgotten girl. I let out a long breath of air, and kneel down in front of the shell shocked Dumbledore.
"Its just you and me now Ari. I am so sorry for your loss. I know that he was a good friend. You talked about him a lot, and he seemed like a good mate." I tell her softly, continuing to slowly stroke her hand. Ariana's dull brown eyes finally raise, and I can see the start of tears swimming in them again.
"P-please… hold me…" She pleads her voice breaking halfway through the begging plea. I get up quickly, and sit next to her on the bed. In less than a second Ariana is wrapped around my torso, and crying into my shoulder. I rub my hand slowly up and down her back, wishing that I can take away some of her pain. My mind is plagued with worry though, for one of my best friends was hurting as well, and I have no idea how he is.
The really worried part of me is stuck on the fact that I had seen blood on him. I rest my head on Ariana's and start humming the soft tune that I could remember from the vestiges of my memory. I'm pretty sure that it was a song that my mum used to sing to me to calm me down when I was younger.
It seems to work a little bit, for Ariana is able to start getting her breathing under control. Suddenly the doors to the hospital wing open, and all of Harry's cheering section comes in lead by Mrs. Weasley. She has a frantic look on her face. I know that she considers Harry as one of her sons. She seems to like taking in unfortunate strays. The only problem is that Harry still has the Dursleys to live with.
"Harry! Is he here? Harry!" Mrs. Weasley cries panic beginning to overtake her.
"Don't worry Mum. If he isn't here he's most likely with Professor Dumbledore." Fred says trying to contain his mum's frantic worrying.
"Yeah Mum. Dumbledore will let nothing happen to him." George agrees patting her shoulder comfortingly. I startle when the bed moves in front of me. I look up from my position comforting Ariana, to see Ginny and Hermione sitting on the bed across from us.
"Is she okay?" Hermione asks me. I bite my lip, and look down at the girl. Ariana's eyes are closed, but her grip on my shirt is still iron clad.
"She cried herself to sleep… I don't know what to do. Ari was close to Cedric. I've never really talked to him all that much myself but well you saw them at the World Cup she went with the Diggorys. I don't know… I— I just wish that we could stop having so much death." I say brokenly, thinking about all the people that our group has lost collectively.
Luka, Harry, Ariana, and I all have lost both parents. That's six grownups out of ten who are dead. Not very good statistics if you ask me. "I don't think I could handle losing someone that close to me." Ginny says quietly looking at Ariana and me. I give her a solemn look.
"Let's keep it so that you'll never have to, huh?" I say with a gentle smile. Ginny smiles back accepting the hand that I hold out to her. She switches to the bed that I'm sitting on with Ariana, so that she can lean into my other side. Ginny snuggles close, and I can almost believe that we're back at the Burrow cuddled on the couch close together, listening to Mr. Weasley tells us muggle stories.
"I'd like to know exactly what happened." Hermione says, scooting over when Ron comes to sit down next to her.
"Bloody hell. I can't believe that he's dead. I mean this tournament was supposed to be hard, but I never thought that someone would actually die." Ron says rather loudly. Hermione smacks him hard on the arm to get him quiet though. Mrs. Weasley is talking in quiet conversation with Madam Pomfrey, while Fred and George are going over their betting sheet to figure out who exactly won, and gets what.
Luka is sitting on another bed rather close to Gabrielle, playing a game with her. "Harry will tell us everything that we need to know when he gets back. I don't suggest overwhelming him though. I have a feeling that he saw what— what happened to Cedric. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." I say softly.
We sit in silence then. Ariana is still firmly asleep against me, but I decide that she would get cramped and uncomfortable if I allowed her to still be sitting like that. So I nudged Ginny for her to get up, and I untangled Ariana from me after a small fight, and laid her down on the bed fully, pulling up the blanket at the end of the bed over her.
We all waited growing more nervous and uncomfortable as the hour grew later. Why wasn't Harry here? I would have thought for sure that they would have brought him here when they were done finding out what exactly went wrong. Five minutes later though, we got our answer, as the doors opened and in comes Dumbledore, Harry, and a big black dog.
Oh they brought Sirius with them. Mrs. Weasley let out a strangled cry of relief at seeing Harry standing there, shaken, but still alive. I let out a relieved breath of my own, as I watch Mrs. Weasley rush to Harry. Dumbledore steps in between them, before she can hug Harry.
"Molly," he says, holding up a hand, "please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him," he adds, looking around at all of us too, "you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening."
Mrs. Weasley nods. She is very white. She rounds on Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, Luka, and me as though we are being noisy, and hisses, "Did you hear? He needs quiet!"
"Headmaster," says Madam Pomfrey, staring at the great black dog that is Sirius, "may I ask what — ?"
"This dog will be remaining with Harry for a while," says Dumbledore simply. "I assure you, he is extremely well trained. Harry — I will wait while you get into bed."
We all watched as Harry crawled into one of the beds across the way, with Madam Pomfrey hovering beside him, and Sirius the dog on the other side of the bed. "I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry," says Dumbledore. "I would like you to remain here tomorrow until I have spoken to the school." He turns to leave, but catches a quick glance at his granddaughter sleeping on one of the other beds.
He walks over to her, and I meet him there, since I've been sticking close, incase she needed something when she woke up. "She's just sad. Ariana was really close to Cedric." I tell him softly. Professor Dumbledore flicks his gaze up to me from her. He gives me a knowing and thankful look, before bending down, and giving her a kiss on the forehead.
"I trust that she's in capable hands." He says as he turns for the doors, and vanishes out of sight. I look over at the big congregation over by Harry's bed, along with Madam Pomfrey trying to force a sleeping draught down him. Luka comes over and stands next to me.
"I would have thought that you'd be over there fawning over him with the rest of them." He says softly, so as not to wake up Ariana behind us.
"He's well cared for. I'm right where I need to be." I say lightly Luka flicks his gaze at me, then reaches down, and squeezes my hand.
"Yeah, we're where we need to be." He responds just and lightly.
We really hadn't moved all that much in the few hours that Harry had managed to be asleep for. Ariana had woken up crying again, and Madam Pomfrey had been by her side, before I could turn back to help her. She finally managed to give her a calming draught that seemed to soothe her frazzled nerves. That didn't stop her from needing reassurance though.
Ariana had only had to hold her hand out to me with that heartbroken look on her face, for me to go over, and sit back against the wall, with her curled into my side. I'm not exactly sure when our relationships grew this close, but I'm glad that I'm able to do something to help comfort her in her time of need. Everything was calm with Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny having a Wizarding Chess tournament, while Hermione read from one of her huge books, with Luka reading over her shoulder.
The calmness of the room was destroyed by the sound of running and loud voices approaching the hospital wing quickly.
"They'll wake him if they don't shut up!" Mrs. Weasley hisses from her position near Harry's bed.
"What are they shouting about? Nothing else can have happened, can it?" Bill says having come an hour ago from helping clean up the mess that was made of the tournament ground.
"That's Fudge's voice," Mrs. Weasley says. "And that's Minerva McGonagall's, isn't it? But what are they arguing about?" I glance down at Ariana next to me, and see that she's listening to everything going on with a morbid curiosity as well.
"Regrettable, but all the same, Minerva —" Cornelius Fudge is saying loudly.
"You should never have brought it inside the castle!" yells Professor McGonagall. "When Dumbledore finds out —"
The hospital doors burst open again and in comes Cornelius Fudge with Professor McGonagall, and Snape trailing behind him. I wonder what the heck they're doing in here where people are recovering?
"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge demands of Mrs. Weasley.
"He's not here," says Mrs. Weasley angrily. "This is a hospital wing, Minister, don't you think you'd do better to —"
But the door opens, and Dumbledore comes sweeping up the ward. "What has happened?" says Dumbledore sharply, looking from Fudge to Professor McGonagall. "Why are you disturbing these people? Minerva, I'm surprised at you — I asked you to stand guard over Barty Crouch —"
"There is no need to stand guard over him anymore, Dumbledore!" she shrieks. "The Minister has seen to that!" I have a really bad feeling about this.
I have never seen Professor McGonagall lose control like this. There are angry blotches of color in her cheeks, and her hands are balled into fists; she is trembling with fury.
"When we told Mr. Fudge that we had caught the Death Eater responsible for tonight's events," says Snape, in a low voice, "he seemed to feel his personal safety was in question. He insisted on summoning a dementor to accompany him into the castle. He brought it up to the office where Barty Crouch —"
"I told him you would not agree, Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall fumes. "I told him you would never allow dementors to set foot inside the castle, but —"
"My dear woman!" roars Fudge, who likewise looks angrier than I have ever seen him, "as Minister of Magic, it is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a possibly dangerous —"
But Professor McGonagall's voice drowns Fudge's. "The moment that — that thing entered the room," she screams, pointing at Fudge, trembling all over, "it swooped down on Crouch and — and —"
I feel a chill in my stomach as Professor McGonagall struggles to find words to describe what had happened. Ariana shivers and pushes closer to me. I do not need her to finish her sentence. I know what the dementor must have done. It administered its fatal Kiss to Barty Crouch, who I guess was responsible for putting Harry's name into the goblet. It sucked his soul out through his mouth. He is worse than dead.
"By all accounts, he is no loss!" blusters Fudge. "It seems he has been responsible for several deaths!"
"That makes you no better than that man Minister, if you do not value life just like he does." I speak up from my place. Fudge's eyes snap towards me, and Ariana tightens her grip on my shirt. Luka shoots me a bewildered look. Mrs. Weasley looks half proud, and half appalled. Dumbledore speaks as to take the attention off of me.
"But he cannot now give testimony, Cornelius," says Dumbledore. He is staring hard at Fudge, as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."
"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blusters Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!" I feel my blood run cold. Voldemort's orders, oh please no.
"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore says. "Those people's deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body." I feel the breath catch in my chest, and now its Ariana pulling me closer to her, for now I'm suddenly shaking.
Fudge looks as though someone has just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stares back at Dumbledore as if he can't quite believe what he has just heard. He begins to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.
"You-Know-Who . . . returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore . . ."
"As Minerva and Severus have doubtless told you," says Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Veritaserum, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort — learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins — went to free him from his father and used him to capture Harry. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."
"See here, Dumbledore," says Fudge, and I am astonished to see a slight smile dawning on his face, "you — you can't seriously believe that. You-Know-Who — back? Come now, come now . . . certainly, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders — but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore . . ."
"When Harry touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, he was transported straight to Voldemort," says Dumbledore steadily. "He witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office."
"I am afraid I cannot permit you to question Harry tonight." Fudge's curious smile lingers.
"You are — er — prepared to take Harry's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?" Fudge says. There is a moment's silence, which is broken by Sirius growling. His hackles are raised, and he is baring his teeth at Fudge.
"Certainly, I believe Harry," says Dumbledore. His eyes are blazing now. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Harry's account of what happened after he touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."
Fudge still has that strange smile on his face. "You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a boy who . . . well . . ."
Fudge shoots Harry another look. "You've been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr. Fudge," Harry says quietly. The rest of us jump not realizing that Harry had been awake for this conversation.
Fudge reddens slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look comes over his face. "And if I have?" he says, looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the boy very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place —"
"I assume that you are referring to the pains Harry has been experiencing in his scar?" says Dumbledore coolly.
"You admit that he has been having these pains, then?" says Fudge quickly. "Headaches? Nightmares? Possibly — hallucinations?"
"Listen to me, Cornelius," says Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge. "Harry is as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous."
Fudge has taken half a step back from Dumbledore, but he looks no less stubborn.
"You'll forgive me, Dumbledore, but I've never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before. . . ."
"Look, I saw Voldemort come back!" Harry shouts. He tries to get out of bed again, but Mrs. Weasley forces him back. "I saw the Death Eaters! I can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy —"
Snape makes a sudden movement, but as Harry looks at him, Snape's eyes fly back to Fudge.
"Malfoy was cleared!" says Fudge, visibly affronted. "A very old family — donations to excellent causes —"
"Macnair!" Harry continues.
"Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!"
"Avery — Nott — Crabbe — Goyle —"
"You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" says Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore — the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too — his tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them — the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he's trustworthy?"
"You fool!" Professor McGonagall cries. "Cedric Diggory! Mr. Crouch! These deaths were not the random work of a lunatic!"
"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouts Fudge, now matching her anger, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"
"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore repeats. "If you accept that fact straightaway, Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors —"
"Preposterous!" shouts Fudge again. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"
"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" says Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"
The shaking in my body has reached and all time high, and Ariana is making soft shushing noises, while rubbing my arm. I can't help but feel lost and set adrift. I'm supposed to be helping her, yet here she is back to helping me, and my crippling fear of the monster and his supporters who ruined my life.
Fudge is opening and closing his mouth as though no words can express his outrage.
"The second step you must take — and at once," Dumbledore presses on, "is to send envoys to the giants."
"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieks, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"
"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," says Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"
"You — you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasps, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants — people hate them, Dumbledore — end of my career —"
"Career is the only thing he can think of." Ariana mutters darkly next to me, while tightening her grip.
"You are blinded," says Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any — and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now — take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act — and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"
"Insane," whispers Fudge, still backing away. "Mad . . ."
And then there is silence. Madam Pomfrey is standing frozen at the foot of Harry's bed, her hands over her mouth. Mrs. Weasley is still standing over Harry, her hand on his shoulder to prevent him from rising. The rest of us are staring at Fudge.
"If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," says Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I — I shall act as I see fit."
Dumbledore's voice carries no hint of a threat; it sounds like a mere statement, but Fudge bristles as though Dumbledore is advancing upon him with a wand.
"This is not going to end well." Ariana breathes, and I cast a quick glance her way, but I see that her eyes are frozen in place on her grandfather and Fudge.
"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he says, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you're going to work against me —"
"The only one against whom I intend to work," says Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."
It seems Fudge can think of no answer to this. He rocks backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spins his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he says, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be . . ."
Snape strides forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he goes. He sticks out his forearm and shows it to Fudge, who recoils.
"There," says Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff's too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."
I suck in a breath of air at seeing so plainly the fact that Snape was a Death Eater. Was he one of the ones at my house with Augustus as he killed my parents? Or was he with Dumbledore at that time already?
Fudge steps back from Snape too. He is shaking his head. He does not seem to have taken in a word Snape said. He stares, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looks up at Dumbledore and whispers, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."
He almost reaches the door when he pauses. He turns around, strides back down the dormitory, and stops at Harry's bed.
"Your winnings," he says shortly, taking a large bag of gold out of his pocket and dropping it onto Harry's bedside table. "One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances . . ."
He crams his bowler hat onto his head and walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he has disappeared, Dumbledore turns to look at the group around Harry's bed, and the hospital wing in general. Ariana doesn't bother pulling away from her position snuggled up against me.
"There is work to be done," he says. "Molly . . . am I right in thinking that I can count on you and Arthur?"
"Of course you can," says Mrs. Weasley. She is white to the lips, but she looks resolute. "We know what Fudge is. It's Arthur's fondness for Muggles that has held him back at the Ministry all these years. Fudge thinks he lacks proper Wizarding pride."
"Then I need to send a message to Arthur," says Dumbledore. "All those that we can persuade of the truth must be notified immediately, and he is well placed to contact those at the Ministry who are not as shortsighted as Cornelius."
"I'll go to Dad," says Bill, standing up. "I'll go now."
"Excellent," says Dumbledore. "Tell him what has happened. Tell him I will be in direct contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet, however. If Fudge thinks I am interfering at the Ministry —"
"Leave it to me," says Bill. He claps a hand on Harry's shoulder, kisses his mother on the cheek, pulls on his cloak, and strides quickly from the room.
"Minerva," says Dumbledore, turning to Professor McGonagall, "I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also — if she will consent to come — Madame Maxime."
Professor McGonagall nods and leaves without a word.
"Poppy," Dumbledore says to Madam Pomfrey, "would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody's office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us."
"Very — very well," says Madam Pomfrey, looking startled, and she too leaves.
Dumbledore makes sure that the door is closed, and that Madam Pomfrey's footsteps have died away, before he speaks again.
"And now," he says, "it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius . . . if you could resume your usual form."
The great black dog looks up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turns back into a man. Mrs. Weasley screams and leaps back from the bed.
"Sirius Black!" she shrieks, pointing at him.
"Mum, shut up!" Ron yells. "It's okay!"
Snape did not yell or jump backward, but the look on his face is one of mingled fury and horror.
"Him!" he snarls, staring at Sirius, whose face shows equal dislike. "What is he doing here?"
"He is here at my invitation," says Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."
I think Dumbledore is asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape are eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.
"I will settle, in the short term," says Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, "for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us."
Very slowly — but still glaring at each other as though each wishes the other nothing but ill — Sirius and Snape move towards each other and shake hands. They let go extremely quickly.
"That will do to be going on with," says Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher — the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin's for a while; I will contact you there."
"But —" says Harry.
"You'll see me very soon, Harry," says Sirius, turning to him. "I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don't you?"
"Yeah," says Harry. "Yeah . . . of course I do." Sirius grasps his hand briefly, nods to Dumbledore, transforms again into the black dog, and runs the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turns with a paw. Then he is gone.
"Severus," says Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready . . . if you are prepared . . ."
"I am," says Snape. He looks slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glitter strangely.
"Then good luck," says Dumbledore, and he watches, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape sweeps wordlessly after Sirius.
It is several minutes before Dumbledore speaks again. "I must go downstairs," he says finally. "I must see the Diggorys. Harry — take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later."
Harry slumps back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappears. Everyone seems to be looking at Harry now. None of us speak for a very long time.
"You've got to take the rest of your potion, Harry," Mrs. Weasley says at last. Her hand nudges the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. "You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while . . . think about what you're going to buy with your winnings!"
"I don't want that gold," says Harry in an expressionless voice. "You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn't have won it. It should've been Cedric's."
That somber thought sucks all the lightheartedness out of the room. I glance quickly at Ariana to see that's she's spaced out yet again at the mention of Cedric's name. I have a feeling that even though this chapter of our year at school is soon to be over, that everything is now changing as well.
It's too bad that things can't change for the better.