Chapter 35:
Alicia stood up and Harry grabbed his dressing gown and glasses.
"Weasley, you two ought to come too," said Professor McGonagall.
They followed Professor McGonagall past the silent figures of Neville, Dean, and Seamus, out of the dormitory, down the spiral stairs into the common room. Hermione was at the foot of the stairs looking worried but McGonagall told her to go back to bed before they continued through the portrait hole, and off along the Fat Lady's moonlit corridor.
Alicia tried to calm her breathing in worry for Mr Weasley. The man had all but taken her and Harry in and was now in deep trouble where they were the only ones who could help. Alicia took Harry's hand and he squeezed her's tightly. They were walking too slowly for her liking. Mr. Weasley was bleeding and possibly poisoned.
They passed Mrs. Norris, who turned her lamplike eyes upon them and hissed faintly, but Professor McGonagall said, "Shoo!" Mrs. Norris slunk away into the shadows, and in a few minutes they had reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
"Fizzing Whizbee," said Professor McGonagall.
The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; the wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that was moving continuously upward like a spiral escalator. The five of them stepped onto the moving stairs; the wall closed behind them with a thud, and they were moving upward in tight circles until they reached the highly polished oak door with the brass knocker shaped like a griffin. Though it was now well past midnight, there were voices coming from inside the room, a positive babble of them. It sounded as though Dumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people.
Though it was now well past midnight, there were voices coming from inside the room, a positive babble of them. It sounded as though Dumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people.
Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker, and the voices ceased abruptly as though someone had switched them all off. The door opened of its own accord and Professor McGonagall led Harry, Alicia, Ginny and Ron inside.
The room was in half darkness; the strange silver instruments standing on tables were silent and still rather than whirring and emitting puffs of smoke as they usually did. The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses covering the walls were all snoozing in their frames. Behind the door, a magnificent red-and-gold bird the size of a swan dozed on its perch with its head under its wing.
"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall… and… ah."
Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him. He was wearing a magnificently embroidered purple-and-gold dressing gown over a snowy-white nightshirt, but seemed wide awake, his penetrating light-blue eyes fixed intently upon Professor McGonagall.
"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a… well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonagall. "He says…"
"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry and Alicia quickly.
Professor McGonagall looked around at them both, frowning slightly. "Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it."
"I… well, I was asleep…" said Harry and even in his terror and his desperation to make Dumbledore understand he felt slightly irritated that the headmaster was not looking at him, but examining his own interlocked fingers. "But it wasn't an ordinary dream…" Harry looked at Alicia "It was real… I saw it happen…" He took a deep breath and Alicia nodded, "Ron's dad — Mr. Weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake."
"He's somewhere dark and stone and he's bleeding really badly." Alicia said, her voice trembling slightly.
"You both saw this?" Dumbledore asked and while he didn't look at Harry, he looked at Alicia who nodded frantically with Harry beside her. She could feel irritation building from Harry.
There was a pause in which Dumbledore leaned back and stared meditatively at the ceiling. Ron looked from Harry to Dumbledore, white-faced and shocked.
"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, still not looking at Harry. The twins shared a confused look, was that important?
"Well… I don't know," said Harry and Alicia could hear the anger in his voice. "Inside my head, I suppose —"
"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. "I mean… can you remember — er — where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"
This was such a curious question that Harry gaped at Dumbledore; it was almost as though he knew…
"I was the snake," he said. "I saw it all from the snake's point of view…"
"It wasn't just that though," Alicia said carefully "It wasn't just through the snakes eyes. I could feel what it felt, it had work to do, it couldn't attack Mr Weasley, it was busy and then Mr Weasley woke up and spotted it so… It was so satisfied with being able to…" Alicia shuddered a little and Ginny took her hand, stroking her arm. But it was Ginny who needed comforting, she was just as pale as Alicia felt.
Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, who was still whey-faced, said in a new and sharper voice, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"
"Yes," said Harry emphatically. Alicia looked at Dumbledore pleadingly. This was detrimental, they had to find him and help him. Why were they all so slow on the uptake, did they not realise how much a person bled when fangs that long pierced their side?
But Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry jumped, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling.
"Everard?" he said sharply. "And you too, Dilys!"
A sallow-faced wizard with short, black bangs and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.
"You were listening?" said Dumbledore.
The wizard nodded, the witch said, "Naturally."
"The man has red hair and glasses," said Dumbledore. "Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people —"
Both nodded and moved sideways out of their frames, but instead of emerging in neighbouring pictures (as usually happened at Hogwarts), neither reappeared; one frame now contained nothing but a backdrop of dark curtain, the other a handsome leather armchair. It was easy to tell the portraits were faking their deep sleep, the murmur of voices had come from them after all as Dumbledore spoke amongst the otherwise empty room. Even now they sneaked peaks at her and Harry, causing her to believe they had been talking about the two of them when they'd knocked.
"Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts's most celebrated Heads," Dumbledore said, now sweeping around Alicia, Harry, Ginny Ron, and Professor McGonagall and approaching the magnificent sleeping bird on his perch beside the door. "Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important Wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere…"
"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" said Harry.
"No." Alicia mumbled and Harry looked at her.
It was dark and stone, and if Mr Weasley wasn't at home or work, then the only other place she could think of would be on guard duty for the Order, as the Order members had been taking turns doing over the summer. Were they still guarding the weapon Voldemort wanted? Alicia believed it was in the Ministry, when she thought about it, the place the snake had seen, reminded her of the corridors down to the courtroom Harry had had his hearing in. Was Mr Weasley really at the Ministry of Magic? Alicia looked at Dumbledore who was watching her, it was like he could read her mind ticking over. Perhaps he could use Legitimency.
"Please sit down, all of you," said Dumbledore, turning his gaze from Alicia and not commenting on what either twin said. "Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes… Professor McGonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs…"
Professor McGonagall pulled her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown and waved it; three chairs appeared out of thin air, straight-backed and wooden, quite unlike the comfortable chintz armchairs that Dumbledore had conjured back at Harry's hearing.
They sat down and Harry watched Dumbledore who was stroking Fawkes.
"We will need," said Dumbledore very quietly to the bird, "a warning."
There was a flash of fire and the phoenix had gone.
Dumbledore now swooped down upon one of the fragile silver instruments, carried it over to his desk, sat down facing them again, and tapped it gently with the tip of his wand.
The instrument tinkled into life at once with rhythmic clinking noises. Tiny puffs of pale green smoke issued from the minuscule silver tube at the top. Dumbledore watched the smoke closely, his brow furrowed, and after a few seconds, the tiny puffs became a steady stream of smoke that thickened and coiled in the air… A serpent's head grew out of the end of it, opening its mouth wide.
"Naturally, naturally," murmured Dumbledore apparently to himself, still observing the stream of smoke without the slightest sign of surprise. "But in essence divided?"
The smoke serpent split itself instantly into two snakes, both coiling and undulating in the dark air. With a look of grim satisfaction Dumbledore gave the instrument another gentle tap with his wand: The clinking noise slowed and died, and the smoke serpents grew faint, became a formless haze, and vanished.
Alicia had watched intently. What was divided and why were there two snakes?
Something else that caught her attention, how had she and Harry seen what the snake saw? What connection did that have to Voldemort?
Voldemort has a snake…
Yes but that didn't explain why they'd been in the snake's head, and not Voldemort's?
Unless Voldemort has a connection with the snake? You see Voldemort through Harry, could you both see through Voldemort to the snake?
But what is the connection!? It frustrated her so much, why was this happening?
Dumbledore replaced the instrument upon its spindly little table.
The silence was broken when there was a shout from the top of the wall to their right; the wizard called Everard had reappeared in his portrait, panting slightly.
"Dumbledore!"
"What news?" said Dumbledore at once.
"I yelled until someone came running," said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, "said I'd heard something moving downstairs — they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check — you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left —"
"Good," said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsive movement and Ginny's grip tightened on Alicia's arm. "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then —"
And moments later, the silver-ringleted witch had reappeared in her picture too; she sank, coughing, into her armchair and said, "Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore… They carried him past under my portrait… He looks bad…"
"Thank you," said Dumbledore. He looked around at Professor McGonagall.
"Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children."
"Of course…"
Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door; Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron, who was now looking terrified.
"And Dumbledore — what about Molly?" said Professor McGonagall, pausing at the door.
"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said Dumbledore. "But she may already know… that excellent clock of hers…"
Alicia knew Dumbledore was referring to the clock that told, not the time, but the whereabouts and conditions of the various Weasley family members, and with a pang she thought that Mr. Weasley's hand must, even now, be pointing at "mortal peril." But it was very late… Mrs. Weasley was probably asleep, not watching the clock… Although if Alicia had a clock like that and one of the family members was in mortal peril, she'd have it make a noise to warn her about it.
Dumbledore was now rummaging in a cupboard behind Alicia, Ginny, Harry and Ron. He emerged from it carrying a blackened old kettle, which he placed carefully upon his desk. He raised his wand and murmured "Portus"; for a moment the kettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light, then it quivered to a rest, as solidly black as ever.
Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted wearing the Slytherin colours of green and silver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he could not hear Dumbledore's voice when he attempted to rouse him.
"Phineas. Phineas."
Alicia looked at this portrait, the Slytherin colours are what had caught her attention, for she knew that Phineas Black was a Slytherin head master and Sirius had told them he was the least liked headmaster as well.
Of course his portrait would be in the Headmaster's office. And what a brilliant way to contact Sirius. Alicia grinned. To think they had some way of contacting Sirius right within these walls. Of course Dumbledore was ignoring Harry and they couldn't always come up here.
It seemed Phineas' character hadn't changed whether he was a person or a portrait for he refused to acknowledge Dumbledore, pretending to be so deep in sleep, unlike the other portraits who all turned and shifted to watch what was happening.
"Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!" The other portraits joined in in calling his name.
He could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide.
"Did someone call?"
"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "I've got another message."
Another? Had Dumbledore been communicating with Sirius regularly then?
"Visit my other portrait?" said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long, fake yawn (his eyes traveling around the room and focusing upon Harry and Alicia). "Oh no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight…"
The portraits did not like his answer.
"Insubordination, sir!" roared a corpulent, red-nosed wizard, brandishing his fists. "Dereliction of duty!"
"We are honour-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts!" cried a frail-looking old wizard whom Harry recognised as Dumbledore's predecessor, Armando Dippet. "Shame on you, Phineas!"
"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?" called a gimlet-eyed witch, raising an unusually thick wand that looked not unlike a birch rod.
"Oh, very well," said Phineas, eyeing this wand slightly apprehensively, "though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done most of the family —"
"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," said Dumbledore.
"You give him too little credit." Alicia grumbled but Dumbledore continued.
"You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, and Harry and Alicia Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"
"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry and Alicia Potter coming to stay," recited Phineas in a bored voice. "Yes, yes… very well…"
He sloped away into the frame of the portrait and disappeared from view at the very moment that the study door opened again. Fred and George were ushered inside by Professor McGonagall, both twins of them looking disheveled and shocked, still in their night things.
"Alicia — what's going on?" asked Fred "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt —"
"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore before Alicia or Harry could speak. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius' house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."
"How're we going?" asked Fred, looking shaken. "Floo powder?"
"Umbridge is watching the Floo Networks." Alicia said irritably and Dumbledore nodded to her.
"Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back… I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you —"
"What about our stuff?" Alicia suddenly wondered.
There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.
"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds… Minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story —"
"Or hex her!" Alicia said and the Weasley's all looked at her. "What?" she mumbled "Deserves it."
Professor McGonagall was gone in a swish of tartan.
"He says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; Phineas had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests…"
"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry, Alicia and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us…"
Harry and the others gathered around Dumbledore's desk.
"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three then… one…. two…"
It happened in a fraction of a second: In the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said "three," Harry looked up at him — they were very close together — and Dumbledore's clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry's face.
Alicia felt a white hot pain in her neck as though her scar wanted to split it open and she reached for neck before looking at Harry. He was staring at Dumbledore and Alicia felt sick from the anger that rose within Harry. She stared shocked and Dumbledore looked at her as she looked between the two of them, her hand on her scar.
Neither said anything until Dumbledore finished.
"… three."
There was a jerk from behind the naval and the ground was gone from below them, their hands glued to the kettle as they banged shoulders from the speed and swirl of colours, wind rushing by them.