Chapter Seventeen - Coercive Correspondence

Harry was quite content as he sat his various exams. It was bliss, in comparison to his first year, now that he wasn't expecting Voldemort to burst through the classroom door at any moment. It was an odd sort of bliss though, since the only reason Harry knew that wouldn't happen was because rather than being somewhere out there, Lord Voldemort was currently right here, at the front of the classroom, handing out test papers for Defence against the Dark Arts.

Despite this strange scenario, Harry's spirits were high, and he enjoyed an unusual sensation of self-satisfaction. Thanks to the ingenious simplicity of Remus' plan, Harry didn't have to do anything but sit back, take his exams, savour the summer warmth, and watch Quirrell throw himself against the insurmountable defence that was the Mirror of Erised.

Given that Harry was now actually five years ahead of the content, the exams had been about as dull as something could be. However, the practical tests, Harry had to admit, had been fun.

"Mr Potter!" Flitwick called, ushering Parvati from the classroom, eyes searching through the gathered students. "Your turn next!"

Harry rose from his seat with a sense of anticipation and made his way over.

"Right, Mr Potter," Flitwick began as he shut the door, "Considering your excellent work this past year, I have prepared a unique task for you to complete. Mind you, your Patronus alone would likely secure you an OWL by itself, but we must observe the formalities."

Harry offered a warm smile, amused at the professor's enthusiasm. "What would you like me to do, Professor?"

"Lets start with a warm up, shall we? Would you mind making that pineapple," he gestured to a rather worn out pineapple, "tap dance across the desk?"

With a confident flick of his wand, Harry sent the pineapple into a lively prance.

"Excellent, excellent," Flitwick clapped his small hands together. "Now, Mr Potter," he pointed to a painting on the wall, "The task I have prepared. I'd like you to retrieve that painting from the wall."

Harry glanced at the simple landscape of a waterfall, then back at Flitcwick, a hint of scepticism in his eyes.

"Without using my hands, I presume."

"You may use your hands, if you can," Professor Flitwick had a mischievous glint in his eyes.

With a shrug, Harry pointed his wand, "Accio painting."

There was a loud crack as the painting tore itself from the wall, revealing a square patch of bare, uneven stone behind it. The painting landed with a soft thud in Harry's hand and a tiny squeak escaped Professor Flitwick.

Frowning, Harry flipped the painting over and brushed his fingers over a thin layer of stone encrusting the back. He looked up at Flitwick. "I did something wrong, didn't I, Professor?"

"No, no, far from it!" Flitwick exclaimed, his head bobbing with contained mirth. "You surprised me, Mr Potter, that is all. I had placed a sticking charm on the painting to test your knowledge of counter charms, but I did not expect..." He shook his head. "I suppose I should have, considering you summoned a club from a troll's grasp. Even so, to rip stone from the wall with a summoning charm. Remarkable!"

Feeling a little sheepish, Harry tapped the painting with his wand. The layer of stone slid onto the desk. "I've been practising the summoning charm quite a lot, that's all," Harry rubbed the back of his head. "So that I can summon my wand or my glasses if I misplace them."

"Are you implying you can perform it wandlessly?" Flitwick's eyebrows shot up.

"Not as well," Harry shrugged. At Flitwick's expectant look Harry hesitantly placed his wand on the desk. He stepped back, hand outstretched. "Accio wand."

For a moment, his wand merely wiggled on the table. Then, with sudden force, it flew into Harry's hand. Harry glanced awkwardly at Flitwick, unsure how he might react.

Flitwick's response was nothing short of exuberant. "Oh, excellent! Remarkable indeed, Mr Potter!" He jumped up and down, clapping his hands with signature enthusiasm. "Very well, that is more than sufficient. You may proceed to your next exam. And thank you for such an entertaining demonstration!"

His Transfiguration exam was more subdued, in the way things tended to be with Professor McGonagall.

"This mouse, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall began, gesturing towards a tiny creature scuttling nervously on her desk. "A snuff-box, please."

Nodding, Harry aimed at the poor creature. With a deft twirl of his wand, the mouse twisted into an elegant silver snuff box adorned with a portrait of a silver cat.

Professor McGonagall picked it up, her stern features softening into a smile as she inspected the box. "Wonderful detailing," she praised. "One more task, Mr Potter, before I am satisfied."

"What do you want me to do, Professor?"

In response, McGonagall placed a matchstick on the desk.

Harry grinned.

"Turn this into a needle please, Mr Potter." There was a playful glint in her eyes. "Demonstrate all the skills you've been practising this past year.

Concentration creased Harry's brow as he pointed his wand at the needle. With the smallest of flicks he transformed it.

McGonagall leaned over to inspect, running her wand over and murmuring an incantation.

"Pure silver?"

Harry nodded, "Yes."

Humming appreciatively, she brought it closer to her face. "And these engravings?

"The words of the school song," Harry said.

McGonagall chuckled, "I must show this to Professor Dumbledore when he returns. I think he'll be quite amused."

Harry laughed, Dumbledore did love 'Hoggy Warty Hogwarts' more than anyone else Harry knew.

"If you like, Professor."

"I believe this was your last exam, was it not?" McGonagall asked, looking over her spectacles at him with a smile.

Harry nodded, smiling in relief.

"Then make the most of the fine weather. You have shown diligence beyond your years. Your effort has certainly paid off."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said earnestly.

Once dismissed, Harry looked for his friends outside the classroom, but among the remaining students he could only find Ron.

"Where are Hermione and Neville?" Harry asked.

Ron seemed too caught up in pre-exam jitters to give Harry a straight answer. "Oh, uh, nowhere. I mean, I don't know. Definitely not inside."

Harry thought about searching the grounds, but, in the end, his feet decided the path for him. His mouth curved up into a wistful smile at the memory of afternoons spent by the lake, basking in the sun and the afterglow of finishing their final OWL exams. He clearly wasn't the only one with the idea; dozens of groups congregated in circles on the grassy knolls at the edge of the gently lapping water. Harry kept an eye out for his friends, but couldn't resist a quiet patch of shade under a low hanging willow, deciding it was too good a spot to give up. Hermione and Neville would find him, eventually. Harry picked a book out of his bag and settled down. The year was over, and the only thing left to do was relax.

Harry's peaceful reading was interrupted by the frantic thudding of approaching footsteps, punctuated by gasping breaths. Looking up from his book Harry saw Draco Malfoy stop unsteadily before him, cheeks flushed, chest heaving.

"You alright there, Malfoy?" Harry tempered the well defined instinct to draw his wand. As familiar as it was to have Malfoy interrupt a moment of peace, he rather doubted that Draco had sprinted from the castle just to call him a blood traitor.

Draco hunched over, hands on his knees as he fought to catch his breath. "Not alright!" He gasped between pants. "Quirrell…Your stupid friends…Philosopher's stone."

Harry's heart skipped a beat and he bolted to his feet, book tumbling from his lap. "What are you talking about?"

Draco's eyes flickered to the side, widening, and Harry turned only to recoil with a blink as something hit him square in the forehead. His hands grasped at it, holding the thing outstretched in front of him. A neatly folded paper aeroplane vibrated in his hand. Harry frowned angrily at it, but his face slackened to shock as it unfurled into an artfully scribed note.

Come alone to the third floor corridor on the right.

Your friends' lives are at stake.

Reveal this to no one, or they will suffer the consequences.

It was unsigned, but Harry didn't need a signature to know its origin. The note burst into flames and Harry stumbled back, dropping the now curling ashes to the ground.

He looked up, meeting Draco's wide eyes.

Harry's surprise was quickly replaced by a feeling of cold dread. His thoughts raced in his head and he clenched his fists at his sides.

"Explain. Now." His voice was more of a command than a request, desperation tinged with an edge of steel.

Hearing Draco recount his friends' recent furtive adventures was beginning to really explain their strange behaviour. In hindsight, his assumption that they'd actually dropped the matter of the philosopher's stone had been, at best, blind optimism, and, at worst, wilful ignorance.

"They were shadowing Snape and keeping Quirrell informed?" Harry rubbed his temples, trying to ward away the headache that was beginning to form.

"Uh, yeah," said Draco. Harry looked at him with an edge of concern. Draco's usual swagger was completely absent, replaced with an evidently long-born stress from trying to reason with Harry's friends. When had Draco started to be more involved with them than Harry? Harry shook his head.

Invisible beneath the cloak, the two of them were making their way through the corridors of Hogwarts towards the third door corridor. They'd just made a hasty detour to the Gryffindor tower, where Harry had dashed off to gather some items from his dorm.

The castle was quiet. Most students were either outside, in the library, or in an exam, but the occasional person passed them on their path through the corridors. Harry could feel the nervous tension filling his body, which, more than anything, wanted to break out into a sprint. His thoughts were filled with an anxious mandate. He had to save them. He had to save them.

He couldn't help the quiet growl that left his mouth, coloured with accusation. "I can't believe you've been helping them."

"You didn't leave us with many options," Draco hissed back. "Something was going on. It was obvious, but you refused to tell us anything."

Harry bit back a reply and sped up his pace in response. He knew Draco was right. He should have known better. He should have done better.

After a lingering moment, where the only sound was their laboured breathing, Harry couldn't help but ask. "Why are you even helping?"

Draco huffed, letting the question sit uncomfortably as a range of expressions played across his face. "I suppose I felt I owed you, for what happened on the lake, and I couldn't stand it. When I heard Granger talking about someone trying to kill you I felt like it was an opportunity to pay you back." Draco trailed off with a frown. "But then I thought about it, that moment when the squid attacked, and afterwards. I relived that moment in my dreams a lot in September. I dreamt that it chased me, and that I couldn't get away." Draco was hunched over, and Harry had to slow down so that the cloak wouldn't slip off them. "But I remember the real memory, not the dream. The squid wasn't chasing me. It was chasing you. I— I had to do something."

Harry felt like he was looking at Draco properly for the first time this year. He regarded his raw expression, void of sneers or disdain. He noticed the signs of stress and disorder in his normally immaculately groomed appearance. Draco looked up at him and Harry saw in his eyes that this was not the Draco he had been speaking to this past year. Harry had never met this Draco. He hadn't allowed himself to move past what was now feeling like a very petty grudge. Malfoy had mentioned feeling like he owed Harry, but now, after today and the events at the Christmas party, Harry felt that maybe he was the one in debt.

Spurred on by a strange surge of admiration, Harry broke the tension with a smirk. "Seems you've got a touch of Gryffindor, Malfoy."

Draco scowled, "If your idiot friends had even a drop of Slytherin in them, we wouldn't be in this mess."

Harry had to admit there was truth in that. The same clearly applied to him. He was appalled with himself that things had spiralled so far out of control without his notice.

They came to an abrupt halt before a large, iron-strapped door.

"We're here, then," Draco whispered.

"This is where I leave you," said Harry, yanking the cloak from over their heads and drawing his wand.

Draco gave a petulant frown. "I'm not leaving."

"Malfoy," Harry growled.

"I'm not leaving you idiot. It's a trap! Quirrell's trying to get you by himself."

Harry repressed his bubbling frustration. He didn't have time for this.

"I know it's a trap, Malfoy, I'm not dumb. You're only going to slow me down."

"Well what else do you expect me to do? I can't tell a teacher or Quirrell will kill them. What if there's a trap and you can't get to them? What if you get hurt and getting a teacher is the only option left?"

Harry grit his teeth. It was a decent point.

"Let the boy come," came a muffled voice.

Draco flinched, looking around sharply.

Harry made a calming motion, reaching inside his bag. "It's fine Draco. Sirius, you hearing this?"

Harry pulled the mirror from his bag.

Drawn into a tight frown, framed by dark curls, Sirius' face appeared, hunched over the mirror. "This is not what we planned, Harry. I don't like this at all. I've tried the floo, but Albus isn't answering. This stinks of premeditation. And the Malfoy kid is right. What happens if one of the traps knocks you out?'

"No," said Harry firmly. "I don't have a choice. And you can't come, the note was clear. Any sign of interference and he'll kill them."

Sirius ran a hand over his face and sighed. "I get that. Just— just... It wasn't meant to happen this way again. I promised I'd help you."

Harry shrugged, with a bitter smile. "It's not your fault Sirius. It's mine. And regardless, I need you on here in case I have trouble with the traps, or if I fail."

"That won't happen, Harry."

Harry looked at Draco, who had been watching the exchange completely baffled by the sudden appearance of Harry's godfather.

"You must be Draco Malfoy," said Sirius with a measuring gaze. "Are you sure you're up to this? It would be more sensible for you to leave."

Draco swallowed hard. "N-no, I'm coming. And anyway, Harry's going, isn't he?"

"Harry's… special," Sirius said, dark humour and bitterness warring in his voice. "But, if you're willing to help I'm not going to insist. Even if you are a Malfoy."

"Sirius, that's not necessary" Harry said half-heartedly.

Sirius sniffed and leant back, while Harry gave Draco an apologetic look.

"It's fine," said Draco dryly.

"We need to go," said Harry, tone clipped with impatience as he moved over to the door.

"Wait, Harry," said Sirius. "What's the plan?"

"Fluffy will be asleep," Harry said blandly.

"And if he's not?" asked Sirius.

Harry stared at him blankly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Look Harry, you're not thinking straight. I need you to follow my lead."

Harry shook his head. "We don't have time."

"Harry, think." His voice turned gentle. "We can't repeat the department of mysteries."

Harry froze, frustration replaced with fear. His tense shoulders deflated, and he nodded mutely.

"I'm sorry, Harry—"

"No, you're right, Sirius. Go ahead. I'll follow what you say."

Sirius looked like he might say something else, but shook his head. "Okay. The dog should be sleeping, but if he's not, we'll need some music. I've got a harp here — don't ask why— I can enchant it to play like Quirrell should have done. If he's awake, you just need to levitate me into the room and I can put him back to sleep."

Harry agreed with a nod.

"How do you know—" Draco started but Sirius cut him off.

"Draco, we're short on time. Harry and I know the defences and we won't be explaining why." He paused, giving Draco a serious look. "I need you to leave your questions at the door. Can you do that?"

Draco nodded, mouth snapped shut.

"Alright, Harry. Float me in gently. Don't worry about breaking the mirror, there's a bunch of protective enchantments on this thing."

Harry gently tugged at the door. It creaked open. Fluffy's huge, snoring form was collapsed next to a large harp strumming a gentle melody.

"Well okay then," Sirius murmured. "Levitate me down the trapdoor. I'll check whether the Devil's Snare is still there."

Harry and Draco crept over to the trap door. It was slightly ajar already. Harry lowered the mirror down carefully, his wand steady despite his pounding heart, which he could still hear above the low rumblings of Fluffy's snores.

"Cast a lumos would you, Malfoy?" Harry whispered, eyes not leaving the mirror.

"Oh, sure," Draco said, fumbling for his wand. After a few tries, a bright light was pushing back the darkness of the open shaft.

"There's a ladder," Harry muttered. "I can't see a devil's snare, though. Looks like a load of potted plants."

Harry floated the mirror back up, and as soon as the mirror passed the threshold of the trapdoor entrance Harry heard Sirius cursing from a distance, while the mirror pointed at an empty chair.

"Sirius? What happened? Are you alright?" Harry whispered, glancing back at Fluffy, whose snoring continued undisturbed.

Sirius returned to his seat, rubbing his ears.

"Bloody mandrakes."

Harry's eyes widened. "Mandrakes? How—"

"How am I alive?" Sirius asked, rubbing his head. "They looked quite immature, and the mirror will have dampened the effect quite a bit. Still, I've got a pounding headache."

Harry felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Do you think all the traps have changed?"

Sirius returned Harry's concerned look. "It's possible."

Harry looked back down the hole into the waiting darkness. "What do we do?"

"We'll need to block out their cries, protect our ears. Conjure some earmuffs or something. Oh, and Harry, grab a few leaves while you're there."

Under Sirius' careful guidance Harry was able to conjure a pair of serviceable earmuffs and cast a strong silencing charm.

"Ready?" Harry mouthed. Draco's face was pale in the glow of his lumos, but he nodded, pulling his own earmuffs over his head.

Harry tucked the mirror into his robes and cautiously descended the ladder, entering the darkness below.

As soon as his head passed through the trapdoor, a slight whining noise filtered through the earmuffs. Nonetheless, he felt fine. Harry's feet touched the stone floor, and he stepped away from the ladder to look around. About ten or so large pots filled the room, each hosting an ugly mandrake. Harry watched their screaming faces in fascination. It was hard to believe these things were plants, and not creatures. When it came to magic, the boundary between fauna and flora seemed often blurred.

Draco tapped Harry on the shoulder to let him know he was there. Remembering Sirius' request, Harry plucked two leaves from a mandrake and tucked them into his robes with a shrug. The two moved to the only other distinctive feature of the room — a plain wooden door.

Harry opened the door very slightly, just enough to let the mirror slip through. Harry concentrated on rotating the mirror so Sirius could get a proper look, which was somewhat difficult now that he couldn't see it. After a few more seconds Harry levitated the mirror back through. Sirius gave a thumbs up, and Harry pulled the door fully open. He secured the door behind them with a firm tug.

Draco pulled off his ear muffs, and, when nothing happened to him, Harry did the same, chucking them on the floor.

"The good news is we can't hear the mandrakes from in here," Sirius confirmed, "but the bad news is that you were right. It looks like the other traps are different too."

Harry scrutinised the room, a distorted reflection of the flying key chamber from his memories.

Unlike the square room they had just left, this room was a vast circular arena, its edges studded with an array of identical doors.

A frenzy of eclectically styled keys swarmed through the air, just as it had before. However, there were no brooms perched against the wall, this time.

"Good thing I came prepared," Harry said, drawing a shrunken broom from his bag. With a tap of his wand, the broom swelled to full size.

Draco's eyes darted around the room in confusion. "Why are there so many doors?" He frowned, squinting at the darting wings above. "And what's with the birds?"

"They're keys," Harry corrected. "Only one of them works. Though, I'm not sure about the doors. Perhaps we just need to try them all."

"Hold on," said Sirius. "Let's not make assumptions, Harry. A room full of doors is not something to mess with."

"Why?" Harry said, brow creasing.

"Of course!" Draco said, "Like in that old story."

Harry turned to Draco, confused, "What story?"

"It's an old wizarding story about a room with many rooms, each one leading to a different kind of death. But the ending… It doesn't really help. The wizard just dies in the room because he's too scared to face the unknown."

"Is that it, then?" Sirius asked. "The lesson is to act quickly? Maybe there's some sort of timer before they all lock themselves?"

"Why not retrace his steps?" Harry asked.

Draco and Sirius looked at him.

"I mean, how did he get there?" Harry asked. "If he came through a door, why not just go back? Was it locked?"

"Uh," Draco said, turning to Sirius.

"I don't recall anything mentioning that," he said.

Shrugging, Harry placed the earmuffs back over his ears and walked over to the door they'd just entered from and gave it a tug.

"Wait, Harry—" Sirius' warning fell quite literally on deaf ears as the door swung open, revealing a new room.

Harry turned, returning Draco's shocked expression with a grin.

"Well alright, then," Sirius trailed off.

They stepped into the next room.

Harry peered through the dim, dusty air. A staircase opened onto a completely flat stone surface, devoid of a single crack or line. It was so smooth it looked almost like the surface of a concrete lake. The empty stillness made his skin crawl with a sense of trepidation, despite the lack of obvious threat.

"Whatever you do, don't stand on that floor," said Sirius. "I don't like the look of it. Harry, levitate me over the top."

Harry complied, feeling no desire to test the strange looking floor. With a flick, he levitating Sirius down the stairs.

The moment the mirror passed over the stone floor, there was an explosion of movement, and the sound of grinding stone. The floor rippled and squirmed as huge stone monsters began to claw themselves out of the ground and towards the floating mirror. Harry almost dropped the spell in shock.

"Accio," Harry quickly yanked the mirror back into his hands.

As soon as the mirror got to the stairs, the stone constructs melted back into the floor like cascading water. The room returned to silence as Harry and Draco exchanged a wide-eyed look.

"Well, that's not ideal," said Sirius.

"What now?" Draco asked. "I don't fancy fighting my way through that."

"We could fly over really fast," Harry suggested.

"That seems risky," said Draco. "You saw how quick they were."

"It's definitely not the best strategy, yet," Sirius said. "Harry, get your cloak."

Harry pulled the cloak from his robes, "Do you want me to give it a go?"

"No, I'll do it again. Do you think you can levitate me while I'm under the cloak?"

Harry frowned, looking down at his wand. "I managed it before when you were around the door, so I reckon so."

"Excellent. Let's try that, then. I'll keep talking so you can at least hear where I am. That might make it a little easier."

Harry draped the cloak over the mirror and adjusted it until it wasn't slipping off. "Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," came the disembodied voice.

Harry tried to visualise the passage of the mirror down the stairs and over the stone floor.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, checking if he was on track.

"I think it's work—" The rest was drowned out as the floor once again erupted with stone monstrosities.

Harry quickly visualised the mirror flying back over to him and in a heartbeat the mirror and cloak smacked into his outstretched hand.

The terrifying spectacle sank again to silence, and Harry uncloaked the mirror.

"How far did you get?" asked Draco.

"It was working until I spoke." Sirius said. "We should be able to fly over underneath the cloak, as long as we remain silent."

Harry eyed the stairs on the opposite side of the room. "Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best. Unless you can think of something else to try, we should just go ahead."

Neither Draco or Sirius offered further suggestions.

"Just fly high and slow and we should be fine." Sirius reassured them. "Oh, and if you need to sneeze, now is the time."

"Not funny," Harry muttered.

Harry mounted his broom and Draco got on behind him.

"If this were anyone else flying…" Draco muttered.

Harry kicked gently off the ground.