Rating:
PG
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Original Male Muggle Sirius Black Harry and Hermione and Ron
Genres:
Action
Era:
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 02/28/2003
Updated: 02/28/2003
Words: 11,444
Chapters: 1
Hits: 514

Ouroboros

Alhena

Story Summary:
What if there were more persons present at Voldemort's rebirth at the graveyard than we knew about?

Posted:
02/28/2003
Hits:
514
Author's Note:
This story is my first attempt at writing HP fic (although it was posted second) and has cost me many sleepless nights. Was it worth it? You tell me! Feedback of any kind (positive, negative, constructive) is appreciated. Flames will be met with a flame-freezing spell, so don't bother.

... These Roundells, help to shew the Mystery
Of that immense and blest Eternitie,
From whence the creature sprung, and into whom
It shall again, with full perfection come ...

(George Wither)

*****

He ran.

He ran even though all his breath had left him; even though the ground was descending steeply beneath his feet; even though his legs had scissored into uncontrollable strides.

He ran for his life.

Jim could hear shouts behind him. They had noticed him. Something blasted away the earth a few metres to his left and he was sure he'd seen a flash of greenish light. He vaguely wondered if he'd landed in the midst of a sci-fi movie or if he'd just interrupted an invasion from outer space.

He had reached the foot of the hill. Another green flash behind him brought him just a few more steps towards nervous breakdown. Frantically, he struggled up the slope towards the dark shape of the old Riddle House that was looming in front of him. He wouldn't be able to reach the town before his pursuers caught up with him. The Riddle House was his best chance to hide.

Panting heavily, he slipped through the broken window of the storage room that he and his friends had used so often before to get into the house, usually unnoticed by old Frank Bryce. He winced as a sharp pain in his right leg made him realize he had cut himself on the glass shards. All these years of entering the house this way, and just now he had to cut himself on some stupid glass! He suppressed the urge to swear loudly, as it would have given him away, and tried to find his bearings in the dark room. A dim light fell through the window on the one side of the room and through the half open door to the corridor on the other side.

Trying to get his breathing under control, the boy tiptoed out into the hall, one hand pressed on the now bleeding gash in his leg, and his heart was racing so fast he thought it might explode. The big bedroom upstairs would be the best place to hide; he'd played hide-and-seek with his friends here often enough when they were younger. He felt his stomach lurch at the thought of what might have happened to them back there, in the graveyard. Whatever it was, he didn't want to have the same happen to him.

As he hurried up the grand staircase, stirring up small dust clouds, his heart was still beating so loudly that he was sure if anyone was here, he would hear it, too.

The bedroom door made no sound as he pushed it open. The dark shapes of three robed figures staring back at him nearly made his heart stop. Terrified, he jumped backwards, out of the room, stumbled over his own feet, and landed on the floor rather unceremoniously. A fourth person appeared next to him out of thin air with a small 'pop'.

Jim didn't care about sci-fi anymore. He just wanted to get out of this. Preferably in one piece.

*****

Harry knew he'd seen this house before. Not for real, that much he knew, but in a dream -- or vision. A vision, just like this one? He certainly couldn't remember how he'd got into this place.

He was standing a few metres away from what appeared to be the main entrance. Two robed persons were approaching the entrance, one taller than the other. Harry instantly recognized them as Voldemort and Wormtail. Instinctively, he took a step back, even though he knew he was not really there in corporal form. He was standing in plain view of the two persons, and yet they did not react to his presence.

Apparently Harry had dropped in on a conversation. He could hear Wormtail say, "...it seems that the Muggle knows where it is hidden, but he refuses to tell."

Voldemort unlocked the door with a wave of his wand and they walked into the house. Harry heard Voldemort say in his chilly voice, "I know my mother gave it to my worthless father. I've always assumed it was somewhere in this house, but I've never been able to find it." Harry could hear by the slight quiver in his voice that he was very annoyed about this.

Harry followed them inside; careful although he was pretty sure they couldn't see him. Inside the vast entrance hall, they were approached by a third figure, which stopped in front of them and bowed. It was impossible to tell his identity, as he was wearing the robes and mask of a Death Eater.

"I believe he is telling the truth, Master," he said. "Though he successfully manages to avoid disclosing its location." He didn't sound too happy about that.

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw a movement in a doorway and recognized the huge snake Nagini. He was slightly surprised when he heard her whisper in her own hissing language, "How ironic to think that, of all people, the very boy who witnessed Potter's escape at the graveyard should provide the means to his defeat..." If Harry hadn't known she was a snake, he could have sworn he heard her chuckle.

Voldemort, on the other hand, did not look very amused to be reminded of that night. "I should have burned this house down a long time ago," he said, hissing sibilantly. "I will, once I've got what I want." He turned abruptly and stalked out of the room, Wormtail and the other man in his wake.

Harry decided to follow them, to see what they were going to do, and went after them. They were descending a narrow staircase into the basement. The vaulted ceiling gave an indication that the building was really old. It was rather dark here; only a pair of torches illuminated the space.

With another wave of his wand, Voldemort unlocked the first door to the right and stepped inside, followed by Wormtail and Harry. The light from the corridor fell into the rather big room, but was partly blocked by the two figures. With a muttered "Lumos" Wormtail lit the way for his master. The room was unfurnished and very uninviting, with a narrow glassless window opening just beneath the ceiling. Harry could just make out a huddled shape in a corner that looked vaguely like a human, wearing what appeared to be Muggle clothes. Harry wondered if the dark stains could possibly be blood.

"I am told you refuse to divulge information regarding the whereabouts of a certain magical object that I greatly desire. Foolish boy," Voldemort said in that kind of tone that made Harry shiver inwardly.

The person on the floor lifted his head wearily, and Harry saw in the dim light that he was rather young, probably not more than 16 or 17 years old, though it was hard to tell. The boy's gaze wandered over the two wizards; Wormtail's silver hand half hidden in the folds of his robes; Voldemort's snake-like face.

"Why should I help you take over the world? I'm going to end up as snake food anyway," he replied. Harry could tell he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to sound defiant, but his eyes could not hide his fear.

Voldemort slowly pointed his wand at the prisoner. "Crucio!"

*****

Harry awoke with a gasp, clutching at his scar, which burned fiercely. Despite the pain, he was a bit annoyed. One night back at the Dursleys, and he was already having nightmares. Dreams? Visions? He started to see a pattern -- they always seemed to end in pain, which was most definitely not fun.

He swung his legs out of the bed and rested his elbows on his thighs, covering his face with his hands. Despite the pain, he attempted to think rationally. Was this dream important? Should he tell anyone? If the previous two dreams -- visions -- were any indication, what he had just observed had really happened. As the pain slowly ebbed away, he tried to get the facts together.

Voldemort apparently had a prisoner who seemed to be a Muggle and knew something about some magical device that Voldemort was very keen to have. And who, if the snake Nagini was right, had witnessed the events at the graveyard, over a week ago, which Harry preferred not to think about as that particular memory left him feeling cold and nauseous. He suppressed a shudder.

Would Fudge finally believe what had happened if he heard it from a witness, even if said witness was a Muggle? Harry dropped his hands and stood up abruptly. Whatever the outcome would be, he had to help this person. And most likely, he couldn't do it alone.

His first thought was to send a letter to Sirius, but he dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. Sirius was busy with more important things and would probably say it was too dangerous anyway. But most of all it would just unnecessarily endanger him if the letter was tracked, or if Sirius, contrary to all expectations, decided to come out of hiding to help him.

Ron... His father was known as a Muggle lover, he would never allow a poor ignorant Muggle boy to become a snake snack for Voldemort's pet if he could prevent it. Mr Weasley's job was to protect Muggles from wizards with dark intentions, and this would certainly qualify as such.

Harry sat down at his desk and started to write a letter to Ron, thankful that the ache had receded so far that it wouldn't distract him.

*****

As soon as Ron got Harry's letter, he told his father, who in turn informed the Ministry of Magic once he had found a Muggle newspaper article, which confirmed that three teenage boys had been missing from the town of Little Hangleton since June 24. The Ministry replied that yes, this would be a violation of the Muggle Protection Act; however, since the information didn't come from a reliable source (obviously they'd been reading too many of Rita Skeeter's articles), they were not inclined to take it seriously unless they got some other kind of proof.

So Arthur Weasley decided that he himself would go and try to find something out, which Molly was not very happy about. Ron persuaded him to take himself, Harry (because he knew best what went on) and Hermione (because she had always good ideas and was good to have around) along, which Molly was even less happy about.

Ron was very glad to see his friends again so much sooner than he'd expected. They escaped to this bedroom while his parents were arguing, confident that his father would manage to convince his mother. It was nothing dangerous, after all.

"We just need to find out how much of that dream is true and how accurate my memory is," said Harry.

"But how?" Hermione asked.

Harry suggested, "Why don't we just ask the prisoner himself?"

Ron could not imagine how this would work. "Do you want to write him a letter or what? 'Hello, I dreamed about you the other night...' "

Hermione let out a small snort of laughter, but Harry was staring absently at Pigwidgeon's cage.

"Actually, that's a pretty good idea."

"I didn't mean that seriously. Didn't you say that that room had a small narrow window? No owl would be able to get..." Ron's gaze followed Harry's and also came to rest on Pig, who was sleeping peacefully for a change. "Oh..."

"I'm sure Pig would fit through," Harry said.

Just then, they heard Arthur call from below. Arthur had assured Molly they would stay in a safe distance from the house and would not endanger themselves. He said taking Pigwidgeon along would be a good idea, too. From her expression, it seemed to make Molly a little happier as well.

Quickly, the preparations were made to travel to a Floo station in Great Hangleton, from where they would walk to Little Hangleton. The boys had disappeared around there somewhere, so it was a good place to start.

They waited until dusk in order to minimize the risk of being seen. Harry instantly recognized the old house that was standing clearly visible on a hill. The ominous graveyard was nearby, as well as a small stand of oaks, from which cover they could watch the mansion without being spotted.

As planned, they first wrote a short letter to the supposed prisoner to see how much of Harry's assumptions were true and if there was someone in need of rescue at all.

To the Person in the Basement: There are friends outside, willing to help you. Send the owl back to let us know you're all right.

-Friends

Pigwidgeon was so excited that they all feared he would attract someone's attention with his fluttering and hopping and hooting. Ron finally threatened him he wouldn't be allowed to deliver the letter if he didn't stop, which promptly shut the little owl up, and he settled for bouncing up and down on a thin branch, making all kinds of dirt and bugs rain down on them.

When they finally sent him off with the letter and a small pencil to make it possible to reply, Ron urged him to be as inconspicuous as possible, and not to let himself be seen by anyone besides the recipient. Then they all waited and hoped for the best.

*****

Jim was feeling very cold. The floor was cold and the wall was cold and the cold night air sighing in though the narrow glassless window didn't make things better. He considered pacing around to warm himself, but his leg hurt too much. He thought how ironic it would be if he died from pneumonia or wound infection before the big ugly bloke got anything from him about that necklace he wanted.

Jim had never believed in aliens, but now he wasn't so sure anymore. How could anyone with a face like that be human? These folks could appear out of thin air and had technology stuff he'd never seen before. In movies, aliens always tried to take over the world. Whatever they wanted the amulet for, it was a good enough reason not to let them have it.

Jim's grandmother had been the maid who had found the dead bodies of the Riddle family back then, about 50 years ago. She had told little Jimmy, who was always eager for stories, all about it, and that she had also found a very valuable looking necklace, which she had taken and told no one about. She had secretly tried to sell it, but for some reason no one wanted to buy it. She then hid it back in the Riddle House to cover up her traces out of fear that someone could have figured out she had stolen it. At that time, Jim hadn't really understood why it was okay to steal from the Riddles, but not from other people.

Something zoomed around his head, making a flapping noise. First he thought it was a particularly large moth. He didn't care much for moths normally, but right now he was glad to have a companion, however small he might be, so he didn't wave it away.

He was puzzled when the moth let a small object fall into his lap, and made a hooting noise. The object was a small pencil. He could now see that the strange animal, which had settled itself on his knee, was a really tiny owl. There was a rolled piece of paper tied to its leg, which Jim managed to remove with some difficulty, since the owl wouldn't sit still. He'd heard about pigeons delivering letters, but never owls. And why to him? His predicament momentarily forgotten, he went over to the narrow shaft of moonlight falling through the window, while the owl zoomed around his head and let out small hooting noises.

It was indeed a letter. To him. From someone who had apparently noticed something unusual was going on, someone who had trained an owl to deliver a letter to a person sitting in a cold dark room in the basement of an abandoned house, someone who couldn't be from the police, or they would have searched the house right away. Things were getting weirder and weirder.

However, as long as he could get out safely, he didn't care how weird things got. He could wonder about that later. The owl was still flapping around (Jim was getting dizzy just watching it), and he remembered that it was probably waiting for an answer. He scribbled hastily something on the backside of the paper. He was wondering how he was going to tie it to the owl's leg when it wouldn't sit still for long enough, when said owl snatched the note from his hand and disappeared through the window.

*****

They didn't have to wait long. After about ten minutes, a very self-satisfied Pigwidgeon came fluttering back, delivered the return letter, which was scrawled on the backside of the first one, and made himself comfortable on Ron's shoulder.

The letter informed them that the writer's name was Jim, that the big scary git who looked like he was from outer space and his sidekick hadn't been back in two days, that he really didn't want to end up as snake food, and could someone please get him out of there quickly.

"Seems like You-Know-Who and Wormtail are gone right now," Ron said.

"Would make sense if he has one of his Death Eaters guarding the prisoner in the meantime," Hermione added, reading the letter once again.

"But is it just one?" Ron asked, sceptically. "Or is there a whole army in there?"

"I don't think so. These people have lives, after all. One guard for a person who is weak, locked away and a Muggle is more than enough," his father reasoned.

"But we have no idea when You-Know-Who will return," Hermione said.

"What if he comes back tonight?" Harry asked.

Mr Weasley was still for a while, thinking. "Hm, right now it will be relatively easy to break someone out, and I have no idea how long it will take for the Ministry wizards to arrive."

Ron shot his father an astonished look. "Does that mean we're going in?"

"Well, first I'm going to alert the Ministry. I think we have enough proof. Maybe we would be able to pull this off alone, but I'm not sure if it's not too risky. On the other hand, I wouldn't be surprised if the Ministry decides it isn't worth the effort."

"There is still this magical device or whatever it is, that Jim supposedly knows about," Harry argued. "If we find it before Voldemort does, and if it's really as powerful as he says it is, we might have an advantage over him. And we don't know how much time we have left until he comes back and everything gets out of hand."

Mr Weasley thought some more. Finally, he said, "Okay, we're going in to assess the situation. But only under the condition that we will all be extremely careful, and at the slightest sign of trouble, we're out of there."

The boys agreed although Hermione looked rather sceptical, but she didn't protest. Ron's father wrote under Jim's reply, "Is this proof enough?" and sent Pigwidgeon off to the Ministry of Magic. Silently, Harry wondered why they were all so confident in Pig's reliability.

They cautiously approached the house, which lay shrouded in darkness, only in the upper floor could a faint orange glow be seen behind one of the partly boarded up windows, which probably originated from a fire in some fireplace. It was completely quiet, and apart from the distant rustling of trees in the wind, there was no noise or movement. Scattered black clouds crossed in front of the nearly full moon every now and then, dimming the light, and plunging the world into nearly impenetrable dark.

The huge double doors at the entrance were locked. However, they seemed to have simple old-fashioned Muggle locks -- an Alohomora spell cast by Mr Weasley quickly and quietly opened them. They slipped into the grand entrance hall without making a sound, and Mr Weasley indicated for Harry to lead the way. Moonlight falling through large glass windows illuminated the area enough for them to see without their wand lights. There was no sign that they had been discovered. It was so quiet that they could have heard the proverbial pin drop.

Harry, who knew the way from his dream, led them into the basement. Ron and Hermione ignited the tips of their wands to illuminate their surroundings. They stopped in front of the door where the prisoner had last been and Mr Weasley again managed to open it with a simple spell. Cautiously, Harry stepped into the small room, followed by Ron.

It was déjà-vu to Harry. He recognized the room from his dream. Even with the double wand light augmenting the narrow shaft of moonlight falling through the small window opening, he almost overlooked the huddled figure in the shadows, who gave them first a startled, then a relieved look.

"You are Jim?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.

The boy nodded and struggled to stand up. He obviously had difficulty.

"You're kids," he muttered, sounding a bit surprised. He was only slightly taller than Harry and Ron and couldn't be that much older.

Harry wanted to say that he was almost fifteen and no 'kid', but he went over instead and helped Jim to stand. He could now see that there was a nasty cut in Jim's leg, and lots of dried blood. Jim limped towards the door with Harry's help. Mr Weasley was standing guard in the hallway.

"Come on," he urged them. "If we are lucky, we'll be out of here without them knowing what's going on."

Jim agreed. "Then I would be very grateful if someone could explain a few things to me, later," he said. "Are we being invaded from outer space or something?"

"You are not leaving," Harry heard a voice hissing behind him. He spun around, which alerted the others, and saw a huge snake slither down the stairs. Nagini.

"Yes we are, and you are not standing in our way," Harry said to the snake in Parseltongue.

Nagini didn't waver. "My master will be most pleased at your capture. And you will all make very fine meals." Her tongue flickered out briefly.

From behind Harry, Mr Weasley shot a stunning spell at Nagini, which rendered her unconscious rather effectively.

"Now let's get out of here before someone else shows up," he said.

"Wait," Ron said. "What about this magical thing that You-Know-Who wants? Is it anywhere in the house? Shouldn't we use the opportunity and take it while we're here?"

"He is right," Jim agreed. "It's just a bit further down the cellar. As much as I'd like to leave this place pretty damn quick, after what he's done to me, if the sod wants it, let's take it."

So they went to the room at the end of the corridor, which turned out to be an old wine cellar. Jim pushed away a crate in a corner and removed a loose brick from the wall behind it. He pulled out a flat shape enveloped in dark cloth and unwrapped the item inside. Everyone stepped closer to get a better view. It was a necklace with a shiny silver pendant, which represented a snake biting its own tail. Set in the middle was a large glinting emerald.

"My friends and I occasionally took it out of its hiding place and looked at it, but we never really knew what to do with it," Jim said.

Harry took the object in his hands, fascinated. He thought he felt a bit of its powerful magic, but he might have been imagining it.

"Ouroboros," Hermione said.

Ron blinked. "What?"

"The snake biting its own tail," Hermione elaborated. "It's called Ouroboros."

"Such an amulet is certainly not common," Ron's father said. "It must be special if You-Know-Who is so dead keen on getting it."

"Ouroboros is a symbol for the continuity of life. It is usually associated with regeneration and rebirth," Hermione said. "Maybe it's a way to achieve immortality."

"Which would explain why Voldemort wants it," Harry said.

"Or maybe it has regenerative powers," Ron suggested. "Maybe you put it on and can run for miles without getting tired."

"Dumbledore will probably want to see it. We can examine it later when we are in safety," Mr Weasley decided. "Let's go."

Harry decided the safest way to transport the amulet was to put it around his neck, and followed the others. He got a slightly sinking feeling when he noticed that the place where Nagini had been lying earlier was empty. When they emerged on top of the stairs, they were surprised by a black-cloaked figure who was pointing his wand at them. Nagini was slithering around behind him, and Harry could have sworn she was smirking.

Without hesitating, Mr Weasley reacted. He threw a hex at their opponent just as the other was doing the same. The two spells clashed in mid air and bounced off in different directions.

"Get out of here!" Mr Weasley yelled at the kids, who had been frozen in shock for a moment but now dashed through the large entrance hall towards the doors. They stopped short when Nagini suddenly reared up in front of them and cut off their way, her two dagger-like fangs gleaming dangerously. Hermione threw a curse at the snake but Nagini slid out of the way with ease. Harry's spell hit, but to his surprise, Nagini wasn't stunned as she should have been, but just looked dazed for a second.

Ron's father caught up with them and they all ran towards the door, each turning around to fire spells at their attackers. Harry noticed that Jim was lagging behind, dragging his injured leg. Harry himself was feeling as if he'd already run a marathon. His breath came in short, harsh gasps and his legs were feeling as if they were made from lead. A curse missed him by a hair's breadth. He felt a hot rush of air singe his right shoulder. He turned around and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

His disarming spell hit the Death Eater full on, but it didn't elicit more than a small wince from the man.

When they had entered the house, the hall hadn't seemed nearly as long. The others had almost reached the door. Hermione shouted Harry's name in concern. He would have liked to run faster but he couldn't. His lungs were burning and his heart was racing at twice its normal speed.

Ron and Hermione pushed open the heavy doors. Harry saw a dark shape shoot towards them, but it was too late to utter a warning. Nagini sank her fangs into Ron's leg. Ron cried out in surprise and pain. Nagini let go and reared up in front of Harry and Jim, who skidded to a halt.

Ron's father ushered his son and Hermione outside and turned to fire another spell at the Death Eater. Just then, a curse hit Harry in the back, and the world went dark.

*****

Outside, dark clouds were gathering, as if they were cooking up something wicked. Mr Weasley carried Ron towards the town of Little Hangleton, away from the danger. When they were safely hidden in an alleyway between two houses, they stopped.

There was a slight tremor in Mr Weasley's voice as he said hastily, "Ron, you shouldn't move. Hermione, you stay here with Ron. I'll get help from Hogwarts, it's his best chance. I'll be back five minutes ago." He barely waited for a nod of acknowledgement before he disapparated.

"I feel sick." Ron's voice was a weak whisper.

"We could have called a Muggle ambulance," Hermione said, not totally convinced Ron's father had chosen the best way of action.

"No disrespect towards Muggle cars, but I think apparating is faster."

Ron pulled up the leg of his trousers and examined the spot where the snake had bitten him in the light of the nearby street lamp. There were two dark red bite marks, and the area around the wound had swollen slightly. "What is taking them so long?" he complained feebly. His facial expression was like that of a Christian martyr who was about to encounter his first and last lion in the arena.

Hermione scanned the area for any potential danger, but it was more to stop herself from panicking by distracting herself than that she expected to find Death Eaters lurking. She hated having to sit around and watch Ron's condition get worse by the second.

"Why is Dad going to Hogwarts, anyway? Wouldn't St. Mungo's make more sense?" Ron asked. "And aren't the teachers home for holidays?"

"Don't know. School ended only two days ago. Maybe there are still some who are going to discuss plans regarding You-Know-Who."

After what seemed to Hermione like one hundred and one eternities, Mr Weasley returned with help in form of Madam Pomfrey, who gave Ron a vial with a potion and explained, "We don't have an antidote against that particular snake's venom, but this should be effective."

Ron drank the potion and made a face. "Ugh. This had better be very effective."

"You will feel better soon," Mr Weasley assured his son, his words sounding more confident than he looked.

"You will all follow me to Hogwarts now. Dumbledore waits for a nice long explanation," Madam Pomfrey said. It was a statement, not a question, spoken in a voice that brooked no argument.

Hermione tried anyway. "What about Harry? And Jim?"

"The situation has changed, Hermione," said Mr Weasley. "We will get them out as quickly as possible, but we need backup."

'If they are still alive,' Hermione thought gloomily, but she did realize that they didn't stand a chance if they went back on their own, now that their enemies were alerted.

They apparated to Hogsmeade, Mr Weasley holding Ron and Madam Pomfrey holding Hermione. Thence they walked to the castle. Hermione and Mr Weasley hurried on ahead while Madam Pomfrey helped Ron along at a much slower pace. Ron didn't seem completely cured, but at least he was no longer on the brink of death. Madam Pomfrey insisted that he come with her to the hospital wing for further treatment, while Hermione and Mr Weasley made their way to Professor Dumbledore's office. Apparently he had been informed about the situation and was waiting for them.

Sirius Black arrived shortly after they did. Hermione noticed that Mr Weasley didn't act alarmed or surprised by his appearance. Maybe his wife had already brought him up to date.

Sirius greeted Hermione and Mr Weasley with a nod, and asked immediately, "Why did you summon me? What's wrong with Harry?"

Dumbledore answered gravely. "We don't know. I asked you to come because I think he will need your help, as well as ours. Arthur, please tell us now exactly what happened."

Mr Weasley narrated the events of the evening in as few words as possible.

When he mentioned the Ouroboros amulet, Dumbledore looked like he wanted to ask more details about this, but he just said, "This is interesting, go on."

Mr Weasley told how they went back, were attacked, and had to flee.

"Harry and Jim were lagging behind. They were captured," he concluded his story.

By now, Sirius was positively glaring at Mr Weasley. "I swear, if anything happens to Harry..."

Dumbledore interrupted them. "Was Harry wearing the necklace?"

Hermione confirmed this, puzzled.

"Then this is indeed the Ouroboros I know about," Dumbledore said. "It drained energy from Harry."

Hermione frowned. "How do you know that?"

"Salazar Slytherin had a magical pendant shaped as the Ouroboros worm which he left behind for later generations. It was lost long before I was born. I've always assumed it was in the possession of one of his descendants or followers, but I could never prove it, and no one would speak of it."

"But why does You-Know-Who want to have it when all it does is drain energy? This doesn't make sense."

"That is not all it does. During my search, I was able to gather some information from different sources, mostly legend, but very consistent. They all say that it draws life energy from the wearer, which can then be transferred to another person -- any other person, alive..." he paused, "...or not. In essence, according to legend, it can resurrect the dead." There was a profound silence, as people worked through the implications of Dumbledore's words.

"This sounds like it's a good thing?" Hermione asked. She couldn't quite see Salazar Slytherin as leaving behind anything 'good'.

Dumbledore shook his head. "It's a bit more complex, I'm afraid. Life and Death are a continuous unending principle, under normal circumstances balanced by Nature herself. However, when the Ouroboros amulet is used to resurrect an already dead person, that delicate balance is disturbed. Someone else has to die to restore it."

"Does this mean some random person will just drop dead?" Hermione didn't know if she would ever want to use that thing if it meant someone else had to die before they were supposed to. Save one life by ending another?

"If legend is correct, yes," Dumbledore confirmed, and stood up. "Voldemort will not scruple to misuse its power for his own purposes. We cannot let it fall into his hands."

Sirius, who had been listening quietly so far, said, "You know as well as I do that Voldemort might return to that house anytime, if he hasn't already. My first priority is Harry and I will go and get him out, even if I have to do it alone."

"Me too," Hermione added, determined.

"I understand your concerns," Dumbledore said, in an obvious attempt to calm them down a bit. "We will prevent any harm coming to Harry, or to the other boy for that matter, if it is within our power. But you must also understand that the reappearance of the Ouroboros is not to be taken lightly. We cannot allow Voldemort to become more powerful than he already is."

"I've already contacted the Ministry, but I think they need to be updated about the turn of events," Mr Weasley said. "Let's hope they will change their minds about this."

*****

When Harry awoke, he felt stiff and cold. Every movement caused pain somewhere in his body, so he decided not to move. He was lying on a hard, cold floor, which didn't help his condition in any way. Maybe if he opened just one eye, he would remember where he was and the licence plate number of the car was that had hit him.

After the initial state of blurriness, his eyes focused on his surroundings. He saw a grey ceiling, a grey floor, and grey walls. A dim, grey light, as well as cold morning air were filtering through a narrow window right under the ceiling, on the wall to his left, illuminating the room just enough to make out shapes. This was when he saw the other person sitting against the wall opposite of him. Bits and pieces of what had happened were coming back to him. The rescue operation, the snake-amulet, their hasty retreat. With worry he remembered how Nagini had struck Ron. He very much hoped his friends had gotten away and got help for Ron immediately.

He attempted to sit up, but gave up when different parts of his body protested too much. Maybe this was an after-effect of the curse that had hit him.

He thought how ironic it would be if someone from the Ministry showed up and reprimanded him for the use of magic outside of school yet again. But then it occurred to him that it would probably count as an 'emergency', if Ron was right about that. If he were honest, he wouldn't mind someone showing up here and getting them out.

The other person, who turned out to be Jim, had noticed him waking up. He crossed the few steps between them and crouched beside him.

"Are you all right?" Jim asked in a concerned voice.

"Never been better," Harry muttered. His throat was dry and his voice sounded raw. He tried not to think about how very much he would like a glass of water right now.

"I was so hoping to never see this place again. The room service is the pits." Jim's remark was supposed to sound flippant, but his constricted voice betrayed him. "Can't you do your... magic... thing and hex the door open, or something like that?" It was obvious how much this 'magic thing' frightened him.

Harry felt around for his wand and noticed that it was gone. So was the amulet. "No, I can't. They took my wand. Hardly surprising."

As if on cue, a dark shape blocked the already dim light falling through the small window.

"I see you are awake," Nagini's familiar and yet strange voice hissed.

Despite his body's protests, Harry managed to sit up. Jim also became aware of the snake.

"Sod off,"Harry hissed, automatically switching to Parseltongue. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how Jim winced slightly.

Nagini continued, apparently unimpressed. "Master will be pleased that you have retrieved the amulet for him. You didn't know that it would drain power from you, did you?"

"Oh, go eat your tail," Harry hissed, making clear the conversation was over for him.

With something that sounded like, "You will both make much better meals," Nagini disappeared.

Jim had crossed his arms in front of his chest and hunched his shoulders. "That sounds really creepy when you do that. Are you actually talking to the snake?"

Harry shrugged, but regretted it instantly when the action moved several muscles that didn't want to be moved. "She was just gloating."

Jim's mouth formed the word "gloating", but he said nothing.

It was getting lighter outside. Dark shapes became more distinctive. Harry wondered how he was going to get out of this mess. Himself and Jim. After all, Jim was the reason he had come here in the first place. Not only did Jim not deserve to become Nagini-lunch, but he also seemed to know something about the rebirthing scene at the graveyard two weeks ago. Just how much had he really seen?

"How did you end up here, anyway?" Harry asked.

Jim hesitated for a moment before answering. "I was at the graveyard with two of my chums that night. You know, cool place to hang out and stuff." He pulled a face, as if he had finally realized it wasn't such a cool place after all. "We noticed there was some unusual activity going on that night and we started to investigate."

He paused, and for a moment, Harry thought he would stop there.

"These cloaked men noticed us and captured my chums. I got away and thought I could hide in this house, so I came here -- which turned out to be a mistake."

Harry could see that Jim had wrapped his arms around himself again.

"I don't know what happened to my friends," Jim added in a low voice. "But I have a pretty good idea."

Harry almost didn't dare to prod further, but he decided he had to.

"Did you see anything of what happened in the graveyard that night?"

"Uh, no, not really," Jim said, to Harry's disappointment. "We just saw lights and movement and heard strange noises and someone shouting, but before we could get close enough to find out what was going on, someone spotted us." He shot Harry a look and frowned. "Why are you asking? Do you know anything about this?"

Unbidden images of gruesome scenes flashed through Harry's mind. "I'd rather not talk about this right now," he murmured, but regretted it when he realized that maybe Jim had a right to know. But Jim didn't say anything, and it was still too dark to make out any facial expressions. "Maybe some later time," he conceded.

Harry thought maybe he shouldn't have talked so much, as his throat was now even drier than before. He could hear that it had started to rain outside. Maybe some water would run through the opening, although Harry wasn't so sure he'd actually want to drink that. They didn't have any time to rest, though. There were steps approaching, the sound muffled by the door.

Jim startled and backed away into a corner farthest from the door like a frightened animal. Before Harry could be surprised about this behaviour, the door opened and two Death Eaters came marching into the room. Harry quickly scrambled to his feet to get a better defensive position.

"Our lord is very pleased about the retrieval of the Ouroboros," the one to the left said, sounding like he was equally pleased. He gestured towards Harry. "You will be the key to bring out its power to its full potential. Come."

Harry tensed. Whatever they were planning, it couldn't be good.

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we'll make sure it's painful," the man said, grabbing Harry's arm more firmly than necessary and dragging him out of the room, his wand pointed at Harry. The other one added in Jim's direction, "Enjoy your last few hours of life. I don't think the Dark Lord has any more use for you now that the amulet is found."

Harry wasn't surprised to hear a bit of malicious glee in his voice. As the door slammed shut and he was led up the stairs, Harry could not help but notice how different their behaviour was from the grovelling he had observed in the graveyard.

It was no longer dark outside, but the sun had not yet risen. Harry was led into a room that looked as though it had once been used as a dining room. An old table and chairs were still standing around, but the curtains in front of the large bay windows were old and worn. A cold breeze that drifted through the cracked window glass made them move slightly, and the rain was tapping against the window.

The man pushed Harry into a chair and with a swish of his wand fastened his hands to the back of the chair with ropes. The other one reached into the folds of his dark robe and pulled out a small object. Harry didn't know if he should feel relieved or anxious when the object turned out to be the Ouroboros necklace. It was just a necklace, right? What could possibly be so bad about it that he needed to be restrained to a chair?

The man who was holding the necklace did nothing more than put it around Harry's neck. What was that supposed to mean? That couldn't be all, could it?

Nagini's words came to his mind -- "You didn't know that it would drain power from you, did you?"

Was that the plan? To weaken him first so that Voldemort had an easier time killing him?

But Harry was unable to remove the necklace with his hands bound behind his back. As he had expected, the ropes didn't loosen when he tugged at them. It was frustrating, but apparently all he could do was to sit there feeling woozier every minute, and watch the two Death Eaters talk to each other in hushed voices.

He tried to hold on to his senses, but he was fighting a losing battle. The room started to swim, and a small wave of panic crept at the back of his mind. What if the thing just kept on draining energy from him until there was nothing left? Voldemort couldn't have wished for an easier way to finish him off. Why was he just sitting there and letting it happen? There had to be something he could do! He didn't want do die here. In fact, he didn't want to die at all.

However, his body had a different opinion, and refused to obey any of his commands. Not that it mattered -- the rope was still cutting into his wrists and refused to let him go. His head started to droop. His eye caught a green shimmer radiating from the place where the pendant lay on his chest. Was it just his imagination or was the emerald glowing? He was dimly aware of two dark shapes approaching him. Everything went completely dizzy and he blacked out.

An unknown amount of time later, the old dining room blinked back into existence. Harry was slumped over in his chair, lacking the strength to remain upright. He still felt woozy, but at least he was aware of his surroundings again. He still heard the rain beat against the window, though it sounded as if it had increased in intensity.

One of the Death Eaters was standing beside him, holding the Ouroboros with the now glowing stone in his hands. The other was nowhere to be seen.

Harry decided it was best if he pretended to be still out cold. With half-closed eyes he watched the Death Eater pacing the room, as if he was waiting for something to happen.

Some time passed while nothing at all happened, and Harry was starting to feel very uncomfortable from sitting in one position for too long, and the ropes cutting into his wrists. However, he gratefully noticed that he was feeling slightly better and less groggy than a few minutes ago, although he wasn't sure if he'd be able to walk if he wanted to. At least this improvement seemed to indicate that the energy the Ouroboros had taken wasn't lost forever.

Harry's heart leapt when distant sounds were carried through the broken window. He was sure he could hear faint shouts and something that sounded like a small crash or explosion twice. He was not sure if that was a good or a bad sign.

Although he felt adrenaline rushing through his still-too-weak body, he tried to keep his head down. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the man tense as well.

Only a few moments later, the door swung open with considerable force and the other -- or again a different? -- Death Eater approached the one already in the room with quick strides. Drops of water were glistening on his cloak. They exchanged a few words in hushed tones that Harry couldn't understand, but he did pick up from their behaviour that something was going on which they were not happy about. The one who was holding the amulet stowed it somewhere between the folds of his robe and gripped his wand.

When Harry saw a third figure edging his way towards the open doorway, he gave up all pretence of being unconscious. He felt a surge of hope when he recognized the person as a very wet, very anxious looking Sirius.

Sirius spotted him at the same time. Harry had barely time to wonder where he had got a wand, when Sirius took a step into the room and then noticed the two other men as well. He whirled around, ready to fire a curse, but they were quicker. Sirius was thrown backwards by an invisible force and landed in a heap on the floor at the wall.

It all happened so fast that Harry barely had time to gasp in alarm. No matter how hard he tugged at the ropes, they wouldn't let go.

The attackers were approaching the prone figure cautiously. Harry could feel his heart thudding in his chest. There had to be something he could do!

He was just as surprised as the two Death Eaters when Sirius suddenly raised his wand and muttered a spell Harry had never heard before. Something like a bold of lightning shot out of his wand and left a smouldering patch in the shoulder of the nearest attacker, who cried out in surprise and pain

Sirius was already scrambling to his feet, ducking a hex cast by the other opponent. All three of them were throwing spells at each other, and had moved behind Harry where he couldn't see what was going on anymore. He craned his neck to see what was happening, but he didn't need to see the fight to realize that the odds were against Sirius. With desperation he tugged at his restraints, but they wouldn't loosen. His wrists were slippery from sweat or blood or both, and his heart was beating against his ribcage as though trying to escape.

And suddenly it was all over. Sirius slumped face down to the floor, unmoving, blood seeping from a wound somewhere on his head.

Harry felt as if a cold hand had gripped his insides. "No," he breathed, disbelieving. Surely Sirius was only bluffing like he had done before. Surely he would stand up any second and blast the two Death Eaters to kingdom come.

But Sirius didn't move.

Never before had Harry felt so much anger and desperation, two emotions that kept fuelling each other. He had to do something. Anything!

Rather unexpectedly, the two attackers were thrown backwards by an invisible force, one crashing into a wall and slumping to the ground, the other sliding several metres over the floor. At the same time, he felt the ropes around his wrists go all cold and smooth and fall to the floor.

Harry didn't want to contemplate what had happened. More stumbling than walking, Harry crossed the few steps to Sirius. He barely registered the snakes slithering towards the doorway, or the man who wasn't unconscious scrambling to his feet, gasping something like, "What have you done?!" and disapparating with an audible pop. All of Harry's attention was focused on his godfather, who still hadn't moved at all.

Sirius' clothes and hair were still damp from the rain and the blood from the head wound. Harry gave his shoulder a tentative shake. He got no reaction. He turned the body over so he could feel for the throat pulse with shaking hands. There was nothing. He felt a brief surge of panic. Where was the damn pulse? Still nothing.

"Sirius, wake up," he pleaded, shaking his shoulder again. There was no muscle tension at all. The man didn't move.

'No,' Harry thought frantically. 'This isn't happening. This is some kind of dream. This isn't real.'

No one would take away Sirius.

"This isn't happening," he whispered. "If this is a dream I want to wake up now, pretty please."

*****

Hermione and Ron made their way through the deserted house carefully, their wands gripped tightly, leaving wet footprints on the already dirty floor. Hermione's common sense told her they should be waiting for an adult, but they had been the first to make it to the house unnoticed amidst the chaos, and whatever was happening, they could be too late if they waited any longer. Besides, they were glad to be out of the rain. It was pouring so heavily that they got the impression somewhere up there had to be an enormous burst pipe.

She thought she had heard sounds of fighting, but there was a sudden hush now. A door at the other end of the hall was standing open. They placed themselves beside the doorjamb and peered into the room.

Hermione's gaze fell on the three persons to the right side of the doorway. One was an apparently unconscious -- or dead? -- person she didn't know, who looked suspiciously like a Death Eater. The other two, she realized with alarm, were Harry and Sirius.

There seemed to be something wrong with Sirius; he was lying on his back and Harry was kneeling beside him. Then she noticed the blood on Sirius' head and her heart dropped into her shoes.

She heard Ron give a small gasp behind her as he saw the scene. Quickly they crossed the few steps towards their friends and crouched down beside them.

"Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively. She got no reaction. He gave no indication that he had noticed them at all. His eyes were open but unfocused.

She was afraid her worst fears would be confirmed. Sirius couldn't be dead, could he? She exchanged a look with Ron, who looked as shaken as she felt. Sirius didn't look like he was breathing, and when Ron felt for a pulse, he only gave a slight shake of his head.

The room was suddenly cold. So cold.

'This isn't fair,' was all she could think. Not to Sirius, who had spent a third of his life locked away in some dark cell, and not to Harry, to whom Sirius was the closest thing to a father he'd had since his parents had died. Why hadn't they been here earlier to prevent this? She watched as Ron abruptly got up and turned around to give the wall a really hard kick that must have hurt. Why couldn't they do something?

The analytical part of her mind kicked in. There might actually be something they could do. She felt hope flickering up inside her as she remembered Professor Dumbledore's explanation about the Ouroboros. It could transfer some kind of energy from one person to another, and even revive the dead. She didn't know how or if it would work at all, but it was definitely worth a try. At the same time she realized the flaw in her plan. She didn't know where the Ouroboros currently was. The last time she had seen it, Harry had taken it. In the worst-case scenario, the Dark Lord already had it in his possession.

"Harry, do you know where the Ouroboros necklace is?"

At first she thought he hadn't heard her. Then he slowly raised his eyes and looked at her as if she had just asked the dumbest question in the world.

Ron, however, seemed to understand what she was getting at. She had told him what Dumbledore had said about the amulet after Ron had been released from Madam Pomfrey's care. Of course Harry didn't know anything about this.

"Harry, it could save Sirius! Do you know where it is?" Ron said in an urging tone.

Hermione thought she saw something like a brief flicker of hope in Harry's eyes. "Dunno, ask him," he mumbled and gestured vaguely at the prone figure lying a few metres away at a wall.

Ron and Hermione were both at the man's side in an instant.

"Be careful," Hermione said as Ron turned the man on his back. They couldn't see who it was because of the mask and black robe, but they couldn't care less about his identity now.

"Do we have to wake him up and question him, or what?" Ron asked, irritated.

"Wait," Hermione said. When they had moved the body, something twinkling had fallen out of a pocket hidden in the folds of the robe. It was a silver necklace. Hermione pulled it out and held the Ouroboros pendant in her hands, the green stone in the middle giving off a soft glow. That glow had not been there the last time she had seen it, she was sure.

Ron had found something else hidden in the cloak -- Harry's wand. He then went to pick up the wand Dumbledore had given Sirius, which was lying a few metres away under the table.

They went back to Harry and Sirius. Harry hadn't spoken a word, but he was watching them intently.

Ron said what Hermione was thinking. "I wonder why this thing is glowing...?"

To their surprise, Harry said, "Maybe it does that when it has stored energy."

Ron looked at him quizzically. "How do you know that it has stored energy?"

"Because it got the energy from me."

Ron fell silent.

"So how do we transfer the energy?" Hermione thought out loud, and reached a decision. She gently lifted Sirius' head so that she could slip the necklace around it, wincing involuntarily as her hands came in contact with the blood. The amulet had already worked like this the other way round. They had nothing to lose. Why didn't the darn thing come with instructions?

When nothing happened for a while, Hermione wondered if she had done something wrong. The stone was still glowing, and Sirius hadn't moved at all.

Seconds trickled by, dripping slowly like the water from her and Ron's clothes, while they all waited with baited breath.

Then, unexpectedly, the gem stopped glowing. Hermione almost missed the slow rise and fall of Sirius' chest. Relief flooded through her, and she noticed her hands were shaking slightly. It suddenly occurred to her that, if all the legends were true, some other person, somewhere, would now be dying before his time.

Slowly, Sirius' eyelids fluttered open, blinking against the sudden brightness. Hermione felt a huge load slip from her shoulders. She was sure she had a silly grin on her face. Sirius looked around and struggled to sit up, grimacing with pain or confusion or both. He nearly fell over again when Harry embraced him in a sudden, frantic hug.

"Sirius, I'm so glad you're alive," he said with a slightly shaking voice.

Sirius hesitantly returned the hug and frowned. "What just happened?" he asked as Harry finally let go of him. "I remember--" He looked as if he tried to recall what exactly it was that he remembered. "There was a fight with someone, and after that, I remember nothing..." He touched the wound on his head and winced. Confused, he looked at the blood on his fingers.

"We think you were sorta... dead," Ron said.

Sirius looked as if this was news to him. "Really? I didn't feel like being... dead." His eyebrows raised, he looked down at this chest, becoming aware of the pendant for the first time. He removed it to get a better look at it.

"This is the thing that saved you," Hermione explained. She thought it was not the right moment to mention all the legends associated with that particular object.

"Thanks... I guess..." Sirius said, a smile tugging at his lips. He stared at the amulet for another moment, and then put it safely into a pocket of his still wet cloak.

Ron gave Sirius and Harry their wands back and they all got to their feet. Sirius' gaze fell on the unmoving man in the corner across from them. He raised his wand and shot some ropes at the man, which bound him tightly. "He will come in useful," Sirius said. "We were attacked by more of them outside, but as far as I could see, each of them disapparated whenever he was in danger of being captured."

He made the body float and pointed his wand at it, so that it followed them as they walked towards the door. He frowned at Ron and Hermione. "What are you two doing here, anyway? Didn't you have orders to stay put until there is no more danger? These two Death Eaters were highly dangerous, you could have been killed."

"We saw you going into the house alone," Ron defended himself and Hermione. "We thought you might need some backup."

"But we didn't fight," Hermione added. "When we came, everything was already over."

A bewildered look crossed Sirius' face. "But how...?" He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to Harry, who had been very quiet until now. "Harry, what exactly happened here after I was out?"

Harry looked unsure. "I don't know, I'm not sure, it might have been me..."

The floating body bumped into a wall, but no one noticed. When Harry got three curious stares, he elaborated. "I was desperate. I had to do something, but I was tied to the chair. I just... wanted to be free. The ropes kind of turned into snakes and slithered away, and both of the Death Eaters were kind of thrown across the room... One of them met a wall, and the other one disapparated. Actually, I think he sounded rather panicky."

Hermione couldn't really follow the conversation. Was Harry saying that he had done all this unintentionally, without any kind of spell? Or a wand, for that matter?

Sirius seemed to understand more than she did. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's told his master that some inexplicable things had happened and he'd better stay away from here." He nodded slowly. "This is very interesting. It is important that we let Dumbledore know about this."

They walked out into the great entrance hall. Mr Weasley was just coming through the open door, also thoroughly soaked by the rain. His grim look turned into one of relief. "Thank heavens you're okay!"

"What about Jim?" Harry asked suddenly. "I think he's still down in the basement."

"I'll go get him," said Mr Weasley. "The area outside is secure, but you should not let yourself be seen by the Ministry wizards." The last remark was directed at Sirius.

"Be careful not to run into Nagini again," Harry called after him.

"Who's Nagini?" Sirius asked.

"Voldemort's pet snake. She's huge, you can't miss her. Already caused us lots of trouble."

Hermione was painfully reminded of Ron's near-fatal accident and nodded in agreement. "If it wasn't for her, none of this would have happened."

"Oh..." To their surprise, Sirius' face broke into a mischievous grin. "That problem has been taken care of." When he met three puzzled stares, he went on. "When we arrived here, there was a big snake roaming about in the forest near the graveyard. Let's just say she had an encounter with a big black dog, and the dog won."

"Is she dead?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No," said Sirius. "But she left really really fast."

Steps were sounding from the stairs to the basement. Two figures emerged. Jim had wrapped his arms about himself, and he was still limping. Hermione thought he looked really miserable. She thought she noticed him shivering slightly.

An awkward silence fell over the small group. Now that the crisis had been abated, the full implications of what had happened to this boy hit them.

"It's really over now," Hermione said, trying to sound encouraging, and hoping she was right.

Ron's father took over control of the floating body from Sirius and suggested that he'd better disappear if he didn't want to be seen. Sirius agreed, waved goodbye to Harry and his friends, and transformed into Padfoot. He set off through a corridor, while the others walked through the great front doors outside.

*****

The rain had let up, and was now a small drizzle. Harry felt the fatigue catching up with him. He realized he hadn't slept at all last night apart from the unknown period of time he had been unconscious. Vaguely he took in his surroundings. Two unknown men were approaching them, and two more were at the foot of the hill, tending to someone lying on the ground. Harry guessed they were from the Ministry of Magic. There were more of them standing in some distance to the right, talking.

One of the men who had come towards them said to Jim, "We'll have your wounds tended to and we'll bring you back to your parents as soon as possible. But first we have to ask you a few questions."

Jim looked as if he would rather do without the questions. "Are you from the police or something?" He eyed the man's robes warily.

The man clearly tried to evade the question. "Something," he said finally.

Jim looked to Mr Weasley, who gave him a nod. Reluctantly, Jim followed the Ministry wizard, while the other one took control of the floating body and went off as well.

"Are they going to put a Memory Charm on Jim?" Hermione asked.

"They probably will," Mr Weasley said.

Harry had to admit he hadn't thought about that possibility before. "After all he's gone through, they are going to wipe his memory? Just like that?"

"He's a Muggle, and he has seen too much," Mr Weasley explained. "It's the law. You can see how upset he is by all this." He made an all-encompassing gesture.

Harry couldn't help but feel this was a bit unfair. Maybe Jim hadn't witnessed any of the events in the graveyard as he had hoped, but he had found the Ouroboros for them.

"His memories aren't totally gone," Hermione said. "They are still there, in his subconscious. He just can't access them anymore. Maybe it is for the best."

Harry wondered if that was supposed to make him feel better.

*****

It took quite some time until everything was sorted out and they could go back to The Burrow. All three of them were more or less sleeping on their feet and very relieved when they were told a Portkey had been arranged to take them back, so they didn't have to walk to Great Hangleton to travel by Floo Powder.

Mrs Weasley looked very relieved when they all came home more or less in one piece, but when she noticed how fatigued they all were, she sent them to bed straight away, under the condition that they changed into dry clothes first. Harry could camp out in Ron's room like he had done before, and Hermione got Ginny's.

Just on the edge of sleep, when she had relinquished conscious control of her thoughts, Hermione blundered into the memory of reviving Sirius. She knew she would never know who it was who had paid Sirius' way back from death. It wasn't fair for someone else to die, just because Sirius had a friend who had the Ouroboros, and would use it.

But then, death was never fair, was it? And Sirius loved Harry, who had never known a father's love; and Hermione loved them both. A tear slid out from under her eyelid, then another, and a third.

'I did it,' she thought, 'I apologise for the pain I've caused, but... I'm not sorry.'

A little girl cried herself to sleep; a woman woke up in Ginny's bed many hours later.

*****

Harry slept until early afternoon, when an unpleasant feeling like someone tapping him on his head with sharp claws woke him. He attempted to open his eyes but he had to squint against the bright afternoon light streaming through the open window.

The one who had woken him up was Pigwidgeon. He was now hopping around on Harry's pillow as Harry sat up, which was obviously his way of trying to deliver a letter.

Harry took the letter and unfolded it, while Pigwidgeon fluttered to his cage and helped himself to a few owl treats, obviously very satisfied with his services.

The letter was from Sirius.

Dear Harry,

I'm sorry for leaving so abruptly this morning, but there were too many Ministry wizards swarming around and they are still keeping an eye out for me.

You know, going after this Muggle boy was one of the stupidest things you've ever done. You could have gotten everyone killed, including yourself.

But honestly, I can't blame you. James would have done the same. You saved the boy's life. And if Voldemort had planned to use that amulet for himself, his plan is blown now. Dumbledore has it now. I don't know what he's going to do with it. He said you have to go back to the Dursleys for your own safety. I will try to convince him to let you stay with the Weasleys at least part of the holidays. Maybe I can even drop by for a visit, too, depending on the circumstances.

Bye, Snuffles

PS: RL sends his best wishes and hopes you're going to be okay. So do I!

Harry didn't feel like going back to the Dursleys at all, but he suspected he was not in a position to argue. He wondered how Jim was now and if he was ever going to see him again. Maybe he should have requested a Memory Charm for himself as well. His last sleep had been remarkably dream-free, but he had no doubt he'd get some lovely nightmares sooner or later.

Harry lay back on his bed and decided to enjoy his time at The Burrow for as long as it would last.

-- END --