Adaptations

Adaptations - Part 9

Minerva McGonagall was staring intently at the map before her. Across the room, in a comfortable looking chair in front of the fireplace, Albus Dumbledore sat watching her. Professor McGonagall tapped her finger against the paper of the map several times, as if encouraging a small insect to move.

"Albus, does the Chang family reside in Gravesend?" she asked.

"No, Minerva, I believe they live near Cambridge."

"The Grangers are from Oxford; so, who could it be?" she said quietly, almost to herself. "The Longbottoms, perhaps?"

"Liverpool. Excuse me, my dear, but what are we discussing?" Albus said rising from his chair and approaching the map.

"Harry Potter did not return to his relatives in Little Whinging. Instead, he has stopped somewhere in Gravesend, west of London. At first, I assumed he was just changing trains, or something of the like, but then he remained there. I thought he might have stopped to get something to eat. However, he has now been at one location for more than an hour and I am beginning to become concerned."

Dumbledore leaned over the map and thought for a moment. "Oh dear," he said finally and quickly returned to the fireplace. Taking a small pot of powder from the mantel, he threw a pinch into the small fire and stuck his head into the green flames now roaring there.

"Nymphadora Tonks!" Professor McGonagall heard him call out. "Miss Tonks, I'm sorry to disturb you but could you please come to the staff room at Hogwarts immediately," he continued. "There might be something of an emergency regarding young Mr. Potter."

Next, he took another bit of Floo Powder and placed a second call, this time to Remus Lupin. By the time he drew away from the fire, the usually stoic Head of Gryffindor House was working herself into quite a dither.

"Now calm down, Minerva," Dumbledore said soothingly. "There's no reason to worry yet. We just need to see what is delaying Mr. Potter."

"Oh, don't give me that!" she snapped back. "You know perfectly well that something has gone amiss! He could have been captured by Death Eaters, or even Voldemort himself! I knew it was a mistake to give him such free reign. We should have been watching him more closely."

"Now, now, we know nothing of the sort. There have been no magical alerts around him since Miss Chang Apparated back to her home, so there is no need to worry. Perhaps Harry is just off on some errand that we are unaware of? It is likely nothing."

"Then why are you calling in Tonks? And Remus?"

Dumbledore remained quiet for a moment then said calmly, "Better to be safe than sorry."

"A bit late for that NOW, don't you think?" she said and stomped off to begin pacing back and forth in front of the fire.

* * * * *

Harry landed on his hands and knees. The surface beneath him felt soft and spongy, like the soft peat of a moor. He stood and looked around him. Everywhere he turned there was fog. It didn't creep over the ground so much as it simply hung in the air, as if he were suspended inside some sort of cloud. He tried to see past the fog, to make out any details that could help him find his way back to the rope.

The Rope!

His hands were empty; he hadn't had time to grasp the rope before he had been sucked through the arch. He dropped down to his knees again and began to cast about for it. He had to find it. It was his only link back to his world and without it he could be trapped here forever. Just like...

Sirius.

Harry grew frantic in his search. He was crawling about, stretching his hands before him and sweeping the ground, trying to find the rope. It was no wonder, Sirius didn't find it. Harry knew it was there and still he couldn't find it.

"Blast!" Harry shouted into the mist. "Why didn't I grab hold of the bloody rope before I got near the arch?" Then Harry realized why. He didn't even know if he could have. In this ethereal state, could he even have grasped the rope? And, if he could, would he have been able to hold onto it when he was pulled through the arch? He hadn't bothered to stop and check before approaching the arch.

"IDIOT!" he railed. "How could I have been so stupid?" Harry looked around, trying to find some way of salvaging the situation. He could see nothing; the mists that surrounded him gave no details of lay beyond, or how to find his way back. He felt that he hadn't traveled far from the archway but there was really no way to tell for certain. He could be anywhere, or more appropriately, he realized, he could be nowhere.

'Maybe Hermione was right,' he thought to himself, 'maybe I should have waited? Maybe I should have let somebody else do this. Could someone else have done better?' Harry snorted in disgust. 'Could anyone else have done worse?'

Harry shook his head in frustration. These thoughts wouldn't help him in any way. What he needed was to find the rope again. With the rope he would have some reference point to find his way around. With the rope he would have his way out. So Harry went back on his hands and knees. He needed to find that rope. Slowly, in what he hoped was a circular pattern, Harry began to search. He would reach out to the limits of his arms and feel for the rope. Then he would crawl forward a step and feel again. Always he tried to curve, just a bit, to his right so that he was following a circle that spread out from where he had landed. He was concentrating so hard on his fingers, hoping that they would feel the stiff braid of the rope, that he didn't hear the soft click-clacking sound that was coming from somewhere in the mist.

* * * * *

Cho huddled inside Harry's old flannel shirt and tried to keep the goosebumps from completely taking over. She rubbed her arms with her hands and tried to keep warm. She glanced at her watch.

"Twenty minutes," she said to no one. "Just twenty-five more and I go for help. Merlin, it's cold down here!"

She looked over at Harry, at Harry's body, lying there on the hard stone floor and shivered as a wave of fear ran up her spine. Shaking her head, she turned and looked at the archway, straining to hear the sound of whispering. She heard nothing. She hadn't seen the veil move when Harry passed through it but she had felt a wave of cold, as if a Dementor had entered the room. It felt just like when that one had entered her compartment on the Hogwarts Express, back in her fourth year. She wished she had thought to bring some chocolate. It worked with the Dementors and so it might help now. Better yet, hot chocolate, she thought longingly. She glanced at her watch again. Twenty minutes to go. She got up and began to walk around the room, examining the arch from every angle but always staying far away from it. She made a complete circuit of the room and saw that she still had 18 minutes to go.

She sat back on her bench and began to think. She reasoned that if she was going to have to go through that spinning room and up the corridor, that was bound to take some time. And the lifts were atrociously slow; it would take forever to get back to the atrium. And then she would have to be careful that she wasn't seen by anyone. That would slow her down, too. In fact, she reckoned, if she left now she would barely be able to make it in time. She stood and turned to head for the door.

She looked back over her shoulder, at Harry lying there. What if he came back and she was gone? What if he needed her and she wasn't here? She didn't want to let him down. But what if he needed her now? What if he was in trouble and needed help? Every minute she wasted standing here made the problem that much worse. What should she do? How could she decide which way to go? She didn't know what she should do but she knew one thing, she couldn't stand to be alone in this ice-cold room for one more second. She turned towards the door and reached for the handle, but before she could, the door burst open. In the darkness that lay outside the door she saw the outline of a tall wizard in dark robes. Behind him stood several more.

Cho screamed.

* * * * *

Harry struggled to contain the panic that threatened to overtake his sanity. The clammy air seemed to cling to his skin and congeal in his lungs as he tried to breathe. His search was getting nowhere. He couldn't find the rope. He couldn't find the archway. He couldn't hear Sirius. He couldn't hear the whispers. All he could hear was that blasted clacking noise!

Clacking noise!

Harry stood with a jerk and immediately began to look for the source of the noise. Through the depths of the fog he could see nothing, but the sound was clear. He tried to pinpoint its location, but couldn't. He had a general idea that it came from off to his right, but he couldn't be sure. Should he abandon his search for the rope in order to find out what was making that noise? Did he want to find out? The rope was his only way out, his only hope for escape, but it was also Sirius' only hope. Sirius was the reason he had come through the arch. Could he leave without knowing what had happened to him? Could he abandon Sirius? Sirius wouldn't have abandoned him. Screwing his Gryffindor courage to the sticking point, Harry began to move off to follow the sound, scuffing his feet along the way. In case he should, literally, stumble over the rope.

He quickly lost all sense of direction. There was no left, nor right. All he could do was to keep the sound of that click-clacking ahead of him and hope that it wasn't moving also. Glancing up, Harry suddenly noticed a change. Hanging from above were strings. Long, thin threads hung down from he-couldn't-see-where. Some hung low, almost reaching the ground and some ended high above his head. Harry reached out and touched one of the threads. It was silky smooth and its touch sent shivers up his spine. It was as if someone was walking on his grave. The noise grew louder and Harry was able to make out a thinning of the mist ahead of him. And movement.

Harry drew closer. Suddenly, from behind him came a new sound. It was the sound of... a child giggling. No, not that. Not the carefree sound of a child. It was more sinister than that. It was the sound he imagined a young Draco making as he amused himself by pulling the wings off butterflies. Harry looked around, careful not to move his feet, lest he become disorientated and lose all sense of where he was. A shadow darted out from the mists behind him. It was a small figure, no larger than a house-elf. He pivoted his head in an attempt to follow it. If it was Kreacher then Harry was prepared to throttle the thing with his bare hands. The figure jumped towards the hanging threads and with one hand it grabbed one and pulled it down. Shrieking with glee, the figure disappeared into the mists once again.

"Now, now Lachesis, we mustn't go scaring our guest. Please try to control yourself."

Harry spun towards the voice and saw two women, slowly appearing from the mists like a picture slowly coming into focus. One sat at a low stool and appeared to be working at a spinning wheel, her lap filled with bobbins of thread. As her foot moved on the pedal to spin the wheel and each time the pedal was pressed fully down it made the clacking sound that he had been following. The same thread, Harry realized, that hung from the ceiling. The second stood nearby, one hand was filled with strands of thread while the other held an ancient pair of shears. The shears were rusted, but Harry could tell from the glint of light off the edges that the blades were as sharp as death.

Slowly, Harry began to approach the pair, always listening for the sound of the child. The last thing he needed now was to be surprised by someone, or something.

"Good day to you, young mortal," said the woman with the shears. "How may we serve you?"

Harry wasn't sure what to say but he knew that silence would gain him nothing. "I am looking for a friend," he said cautiously.

"And how do you know your friend is here?"

It seemed a reasonable question, and this worried Harry. His response showed his caution. "I saw him fall through the archway. I have come to bring him home."

The woman's voice dropped to a timbre as cold as ice. "If he came through the archway then he is home."

"No," said Harry strongly. "He was alive when he fell through, I saw that. He doesn't belong here. If you will only point me in the right direction, I will collect him and not trouble you further."

"Oh, but you have already caused us much trouble, Harry James Potter. Much."

Harry's surprise that they knew his name was interrupted by the sound of giggling. The child ran up from behind Harry. As she passed, she leapt and grabbed a handful of threads, snapping them all. Clutching these in her fist, the child, which looked to be about 5 or 6 years old, turned to face Harry. Instead of the sweet and innocent face of a child, Harry saw the wizened face of an old crone leering back at him. Thin and straggly gray hair fell about her face and a long hooked nose was perched above a toothless set of gums. The creature's face twisted into what Harry could only hope was a grin. She approached Harry, who stood frozen in place. She reached out her hand, which still clutched the threads she had so recently ripped down, and laid the burden across Harry's palm.

Harry tried to recoil away but couldn't. He was instantly caught up in a vision. There was a car. It was full of children. Harry could see that there were four of them crowded into the back. A mother and father sat in the front seats. They appeared to be confused. The wife unfolded a map and tried to point to something. The father leaned over to see. Harry knew something was going to happen and he struggled in an attempt to release the threads before it did. The little crone suddenly grasped his hand with both of her own and firmly sealed it shut. Lost to the vision, Harry's eyes grew wide as the car suddenly veered across the road. The father, panicking, tried to regain control but only managed to lose it completely. The car began a long skid, switching bonnet for boot several times. Without warning a petrol lorry came barreling into the scene. It smashed into the still sliding car and burst into a ball of liquid, orange flame, engulfing both vehicles.

The crone released Harry's hand and he finally managed to drop the threads. He staggered back from the shock of the vision. The crone began to cackle gleefully at his stricken expression. Harry felt ill and looked about for a place to retch. As he searched he noticed another figure, nearly hidden in the pearly fog. The figure was tall and gaunt. Harry could make out that its hair was long and matted. The tattered robes it wore blended nearly perfectly with the grey fog. It was Sirius, Sirius as Harry had first met him in the Shrieking Shack, Sirius fresh from the horrors of Azkaban. On instinct, he took a step towards him.

"Go no further, mortal," the woman with the shears warned. "This is none of your affair. He is ours now."

"Sirius?" Harry called to the shadowed figure.

"If that was his name in your world, it matters no longer. He is ours now."

"No!" Harry called. "If he wasn't dead when he fell through then he should go back. I'm here to take him back. I have to."

"His last tie to the realm of mortals has been severed. He belongs to us now. Soon he will be gone completely."

Harry stared at the form of Sirius. He tried to penetrate the fog that surrounded it but couldn't. The outline was vague, as if it were slowly dissolving.

"No," Harry stammered. "He can't go yet!"

"It is too late. He is already gone."

"NO!" Harry shouted. The figures ignored him. "He has duties in our world. He can't leave until they are done."

The woman looked at Harry sadly, as if she were sympathetic to his plight, "Alas, all of his duties have been set aside. He is ours now."

"But he has debts to pay," Harry pleaded.

"All his debts have been paid."

"But..."

"Even a life debt is paid by death."

"But," Harry repeated, searching for something, some argument that would sway these people. "He doesn't owe me his life... He... He... He owes me his soul."

At this the woman who was seated at the spinning wheel turned towards Harry for the first time. She regarded him with a cold eye that looked straight through him.

"What do you mean, he owes you his soul?" she said softly, speaking for the first time.

Harry opened his mouth; he was searching for a way to explain it to them, when the seated woman pointed one of her bobbins at him. In a heartbeat he was again frozen in place. He couldn't move, he couldn't resist at all as she began to probe his mind. Harry thought for a moment of trying to block her probe but instead he invited her in. He drew her into his memories. Back three years ago, when he stood above Sirius and they were surrounded by Dementors. He showed her how they were going to Kiss Sirius and how Harry drove them off.

"He speaks true, Atropos," the woman said at length. "This one does owe a soul debt."

"No! It can not be," replied Atropos.

"It is so. The dog owes his soul to the son of the stag. It is a debt that must be paid, even in our world."

Atropos turned back to Harry, all traces of sympathy gone. Instead there was the cold look of one who has been cheated out of a special treat. The child-crone, Lachesis, came and stood beside her sister. "As you say, dear Clotho, this is a debt that we can not cancel. It must be repaid." She reached up and carefully removed a thread from above her head. Harry looked at it and noticed a knot had been tied in it, as if the thread had been repaired at some time in the past. Atropos carefully looked at the length of this thread and with a flash Harry realized that this thread was his life. She ran her shears along the length of the thread and Harry felt the cold steel of the blade run up his back. Atropos flexed her fingers and the blades began to close. Harry stood transfixed as the shears began to close on his life. In a second they would cut it and he would be no more.

"Do not think that you have won, mortal," she said with cold certainty. "Your time will come when we decide it. Now take your friend and go. If you can. His debt is now paid." She released the shears and with a flick of her hand the thread was once again hung from the ceiling.

Harry hesitated only a moment then plunged off through the fog. The figure of Sirius seemed to retreat slightly. Harry could heart the sound of Sirius' voice, whispering in his ears. "No, Harry, it is too late for me. Go back while you can."

"No!" Harry shouted. "I won't go back without you."

"Yes, you can and you should. I'll be fine. It doesn't matter. Get yourself back."

With a lunge, Harry reached him. His arms encircled Sirius' form in what should have been an embrace, but Sirius struggled to pull away.

"This isn't right, Harry. You have to go back."

"I will go back, and I'm taking you with me." Harry forced his arms around Sirius and began to drag him away. He didn't know where they were going, only that it was away, away from those three and away from those shears.

After a time, when Harry could no longer hear the sounds of the spinning wheel, he stopped to look around. He had no idea where he was, or where he had to go to find the rope, if he could find the rope. The silence he had been seeking began to soak through his skin like doubt. He had lost all sense of time, but surely, by now, his time had run out and Cho would be calling for help. What would they do when they arrived? Would they just leap in after him? Harry shuddered at the thought of more people coming here because of him. Would they just coil up the rope and take his body to St. Mungo's? Would he spend the rest of his life lying in a ward filled with those who had been kissed? It was more than he deserved if he did. No, Harry couldn't begin to think like that. He had to find the rope and he had to get them out of here, both of them. For Harry Potter knew one thing for certain, he would not leave without Sirius.

* * * * *

"Please, Miss Chang," Professor Dumbledore said calmly, "I know my appearance may seem a bit unusual but I sincerely doubt it is sufficient cause to scream."

Cho backed away from the group; indeed she would have tumbled over the edge of one of the wide stone steps if Dumbledore hadn't reached out and stopped her. The headmaster swept into the room, quickly followed by Remus Lupin and Alastor Moody.

"Tell me, Miss Chang," Dumbledore said quietly, "where is Harry?" Cho could only turn and gesture at the figure lying prone on the stone floor below them.

"What is he doing?" Remus said with fear putting an edge on his words.

"He's... he's gone through the archway," Cho managed to say.

Dumbledore flew down the steps and was kneeling at Harry's side in a second. He felt the boy's chest and lifted an eyelid. Rising up as the others joined him, he slowly shook his head.

"I'm afraid we are too late to stop him," he said sadly. Moody growled and Remus aimed a kick at one of the stone benches.

"What do we do now?" Remus asked.

"I'm not sure there's anything we can do."

"Confound that boy for his impatience," Moody growled. He looked as if he would like to be kicking things as well, but with a wooden leg it wouldn't have worked very well. Remus turned and saw the rope.

"Cho, what's this for?" he asked, following the rope from its start, tied around one of the stones, to where it disappeared through the archway.

"It's Harry's way of getting back," she explained. "He had the Weasley twins enchant it like one of their gags so that you can hold on to it and make the whole thing move under your control."

Dumbledore pursed his lips in thought at this. "You mean he intended to use this rope to get back through the arch?"

"Yes," Cho explained. "First, he threw a bit through the arch and then pulled it back. It wasn't damaged so Harry reckoned that if the rope could come back through so could Sirius."

"Yes, but the rope wasn't alive, was it?" Remus snapped at her. Cho recoiled at his words and Remus immediately regretted them.

"What happened next, Miss Chang?" Dumbledore asked gently. "I'm certain that Harry had some sort of a plan."

Cho explained how they had cast the rope through the arch and called out to Sirius, hoping that he would be able to find it and make his own way out.

"But when that didn't work?" Professor Dumbledore prodded.

"Harry reasoned that he would have to go through himself."

"He did WHAT?" Remus shouted.

"He began to meditate and entered into an astral state. He thought that since his physical body remained on this side, it might be easier for him to come back through."

"The fool!" said Alastor.

"Why didn't he just wait?" asked Remus of no one in particular.

Cho wanted to shout that he couldn't wait, but she didn't. It wasn't her place to speak to these men that way. Instead, she just shrugged her shoulders. At this point, the door burst open again and a woman entered the chamber. Cho didn't know her but she had short spiky hair that had been dyed a bright pink. She was also wearing more makeup than Cho would have thought appropriate, and it was smeared, especially her lipstick. Below her robes, Cho also noticed that the woman was wearing dark hose and a pair of hastily tied trainers.

"Ah, Nymphadora," Dumbledore said calmly, "I take it you found them?"

The woman withdrew Harry's old and battered pair of glasses from a pocket in her robe.

"Yeah, a woman found them in her shopping bag when she got home from a day in London. She didn't have the slightest idea whose they were or how they got in her bag." Everyone turned to Cho, who quailed under the scrutiny.

"Harry knew that you were following him through a charm on his glasses and he didn't want you to know he was coming back here. So he ditched them to throw you off the scent."

"And quite an excellent maneuver it was," Dumbledore replied. "It kept us occupied until it was far too late to interfere. I'm afraid there is nothing more to be done here tonight." The old Professor heaved a great sigh. "Miss Tonks, perhaps you should just return to your earlier engagement? We shall remain here and do what needs to be done."

"Too late for that now," the woman, who was evidently named Tonks, said. "I already sent the worthless sod packing. Wasn't worth my time anyway." She had said this last bit with almost regret.

"But what are we going to do about Harry?" Cho asked, bringing the room back to the topic at hand.

"I'm not sure there's anything we can do," Dumbledore answered.

The headmaster sat and grasped the rope with one hand. Idly fingering it, he began to hum a tune, so softly that no one could recognize it. Tonks, Remus and Moody all took seats nearby. Cho began to pace.

* * * * *

Harry continued to slog through the fog, his arms still wrapped tightly around the faintly resisting Sirus. He didn't want to be carried but he didn't seem to have the energy to resist either.

"Sirius, you've got help me find the rope," Harry told him. "It's our only way out."

"What rope?" Sirius asked.

"I tossed a rope through the veil before I came through myself. If we can find it then we can get out of here."

"Harry, you shouldn't have come," Sirius said sadly.

"Stop it, Sirius," Harry replied, none too gently. "I wasn't about to let you stay here if there was any chance of getting you out."

"But I'm not worth it," Sirius glumly continued. "You're the one that needs to live. We all know that. Your parents knew it."

Harry turned on him sharply. "Stuff it, Sirius!" he snapped. "I'm sick and tired of having people die instead of me! I'm tired of others sacrificing themselves so that I can live! My parents did it and look what it got me." Harry tried to shrug Sirius over his shoulder but he didn't have the strength. "10 years with the Dursleys, that's what it got me! Well, no more! Now you can either shut up and help me find that rope, or you can just shut up. BUT I'M TAKING YOU OUT OF HERE!"

Sirius had stopped struggling but he still wasn't helping, and Harry had his hands full trying to make his way through the fog. Every few steps he would stop and begin to feel around with his feet, trying to find the rope. Once he got down on his knees to feel with his hands but then Sirus started to crawl away and Harry had to chase him down. Not willing to chance his escape again, Harry was forced to use only his feet in the search.

After a time, Harry had no idea how long it was, Sirius suddenly went stiff in his arms. Harry tried to almost throw him forward, thinking that this was some new means for Sirius to struggle to escape, but Sirius spoke out.

"Harry, do you hear that?"

Thinking it was the three women with their shears again, Harry started looking about fearfully. Straining his ears, he began to make out the sound of someone humming.

"Oh, Blast! What's it going to be now?" Harry was near exhaustion from fighting with Sirius and he was in no shape to enter into another encounter.

"Hush up, Harry," Sirius snapped. "Don't you recognize that song?"

Harry listened carefully and could barely make out the sound of the humming. He had no hope of recognizing the tune.

"It's 'Moonlight Magic'." Sirius said. "They played it at your parent's wedding. It was their first dance as man and wife." Sirius began to struggle again, but not to get away this time. He was trying to get to the source of the humming.

The two of them struggled through the fog. Only this time Harry was struggling to keep up with Sirius rather than keeping him from falling behind. He felt the fog pulling at his every movement, as if he were slogging through pea soup rather than a cloud. Fatigue was beginning to eat away at his strength and Harry didn't know how much longer he could go on.

"C'mon, Harry," Sirius said sharply. "It's getting closer."

"What do you think it could be?" Harry gasped.

"I don't know," Sirius continued, "but whatever it is, it's bound to be a good thing."

"Maybe it's my folks," Harry said, barely daring to hope.

"No," Sirius said with finality. "I've not encountered a single other soul since I've been down here. If it were them, I would have found them before this."

Harry hung his head. "Then who could it be?"

"Whoever it is, they knew your parents. If they were at their wedding then they're here to help you get out."

"I'm not leaving here without you!"

Sirius turned to face his godson. "Let's first find out if either of us can get out of here before we start arguing about who is and is not going, all right?"

Harry nodded grimly and tried to pick up his pace. The fog seemed to cling to his heels, dragging him down to a crawl. He could barely see Sirius ahead of him through the curls of mist. He tried to call out, to shout for Sirius to slow down, but he didn't have the strength. He collapsed into the fog. The mist covered him completely. He was too tired to go on. He needed to rest. If he could just close his eyes for a few minutes he would be able to go on.

"HARRY, DON'T!" the voice of his godfather broke through the fatigue that encased him. "Harry, you can't fall asleep! We're almost there!"

"Huh?" Harry muttered, not understanding why he had been woken up. He batted a hand at something that was fluttering about his face. He felt hands grasp him under his arms as Sirius struggled to lift him.

"You can't go to sleep. If you do then you'll never wake up. Com' on Harry, move it!"

Harry stumbled to his feet and managed to take a few shaky steps forward. Sirius stood behind him, half supporting and half pushing. Suddenly he saw it. Through the fog he saw a snake-like shape whipping through the air. It was the rope! It was here! Harry stretched out with both hands, trying to catch hold of it, as it bent and twisted before him. With a lunge, he caught it with one hand and the rope wrapped itself around his wrist.

He turned his head to look for Sirius, reaching back with his other hand for him to grab. Sirius stood apart, knee deep in the mist and shook his head slowly and sadly.

"No, Harry," he said. "You go. You have to go on, not me."

"NOOO!" Harry screamed. With a wrench he released the rope which went back to flaying the air in front of them. He stumbled back towards Sirius, who caught him round the ribs.

"Harry, you've got to get out of here," he said.

"Not without you."

Harry grabbed Sirius with one hand and reached out with his other towards the rope. It slithered through the air just out of his reach. If he could just stretch a bit further he would have it. He tried to loosen his grip on Sirius but the instant he did he felt his godfather trying to slip away. Spinning away from the rope, Harry lashed out and grabbed Sirius' upper arm. With the last of his strength, he heaved and spun on one heel. Caught off balance, Sirius fell forward and he and Harry rolled over each other in the fog.

Harry came up sitting on Sirius' chest. The rope was now close enough that it was whipping about his head. He reached up with one hand and snagged the rope like he would a Snitch. In one smooth motion, Harry rolled off Sirius and sent two coils around the older man's waist. Sirius forgot about Harry and began to pull at the rope trying to free himself.

"Harry," he called, "get this off of me."

"No, I'm not letting you go!"

Sirius continued to fight the rope as Harry began to make his way, hand over tired hand, upwards. It seemed to climb a slope that was invisible in the fog. It was so steep that it was almost like climbing a mountain and Harry had to use his arms as much as his legs to scale it. Every time Harry made some progress he would send another coil of the rope around Sirius. In time, not only was he bound around the waist but his arms and legs were trapped as well. Harry looked over his shoulder with a grim smile.

"Still think you can get away from me, Sirius?"

"Harry, it would be much easier going if you would just let me go. You're not dead. You can return. It's too late for me."

"No, it can't be. I came here to get you out and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Harry, you heard what the fates said. This is where I belong. Just leave me here and get on with your life."

"I said NO! Are you deaf as well as dim? I'm tired of leaving people behind and getting on with my life. I'm not doing it again. I heard those old crones; they said I could take you if I could get you. Well, I'm getting you out!"

Harry tried to look ahead but couldn't. The rope seemed to disappear just ahead of him. Harry didn't know if it just disappeared into some thicker fog or if it was the archway. He gathered his strength to lunge forward when suddenly the rope gave a huge jerk and pulled him off of his feet.

* * * * *

Remus had given up counting the minutes as he sat there and watched his former headmaster. He shook his head at the thought that, even after all these years, he still thought of Dumbledore that way. He wasn't 'Albus', although he had asked Remus to call him that on several occasions, he was the headmaster and was referred to as such by almost everyone in the Order. The only exception was Moody, who was old enough not to have gone to school under him. These thoughts were tossed aside as Remus saw Albus Dumbledore sit up and grasp the rope with both hands.

"Do you feel anything, Professor?" he asked, trying to control the feelings of hope that had suddenly sprung up in his heart.

Dumbledore replied calmly, "I thought I felt something a short while ago, but it stopped. Now it is back and quite strong. There is definitely something coming up the rope towards us."

Tonks leapt off her bench and almost trampled Cho, who was trying to do the same.

"Should we try to pull them through, d'ya think?"

"I don' know," said Moody, joining the group. "We can't know that it's Potter. It could be anything. I say we should be prepared to fight."

"But if it is Harry, then he must be getting tired. We need to help him get through," Cho said desperately.

"I know you want it to be Harry, Miss Chang," said Remus, "but we have to be prepared for any likelihood. Are they still advancing up the rope, Professor?"

"Yes, who or whatever is there seems to be making steady progress. I think we won't have long to wait before we know exactly what it is."

"What do we do?" Tonks asked. "Help or defend?"

Dumbledore seemed to consider the choices for a moment. "I think it would be wise to do both. Alastor and Miss Tonks, please stand on either side of the archway and prepare yourselves in case our visitor is unfriendly. Remus, if you would be so kind as to assist me, we shall try to bring our guest through." Remus moved in front of the old Professor and grasped the rope with both hands.

"On three then?" he asked.

"But what about me? Can I help too?" Cho asked quietly.

Remus was about to tell her to just stay out of the way when the headmaster spoke, "Yes, Miss Chang, if you would please stand behind me. As Remus and I pull the rope in, if you could make sure that it is coiled and not tangled, we won't have to worry about tripping over it. Regardless of whether our visitor is Harry or something decidedly less desired, we may need to move quickly and we don't want to be tripping over the rope."

Cho took up her position and watched as Professor Dumbledore counted to three. With a mighty heave the two men brought several yards of rope through the archway and Cho scrambled to get it coiled. She had almost all of it carefully out of the way when something caught her eye. The two Aurors were standing still as statues on either side of the arch. The two professors were staring at the rope trying to decide whether or not to try pulling it through again. The movement came from the edge of her vision. She turned her head to look.

"Professor," Lupin said cautiously, "do you still feel someone there?"

"Yes, but the sensation has changes slightly. I don't feel as great a pull as there was a moment ago."

"Perhaps whatever it was decided to let go?"

"HARRY!" Cho screamed.

What she had seen was that Harry was now lying with his eyes open. His only motion was to turn his head slightly to view the others in the room. At her scream all the others turned as one to look at where Harry lay. Tonks' wand lowered as she took a step towards him. Remus' face shown with relief as he dropped the rope. Dumbledore stood, his eyes twinkling incessantly. Only Moody kept his post, standing with wand ready, his normal eye fixed on the curtain covering the archway and his magical one pointing out the back of his head towards Harry. Cho bolted across the room to catch him under the arms as he tried to struggle to his feet. He was mumbling something but no one could make it out and cared little to bother as they were simply overjoyed to see him. None of them noticed the rope beginning to slip through the archway. Yard by yard it was disappearing. Of its own volition, the knot securing it to one of the stone slabs undid itself and the end of the rope snaked across the floor.

Harry was engulfed. They were hugging him or patting him on the back. The sudden onslaught of light and colors and sound was overwhelming. Harry's mind reeled and for a moment he thought he would faint. Suddenly he stiffened. Before any one could react, Harry broke free and dove across the floor. He managed to grasp the rope but he couldn't stop it. In a flash, Harry was dragged across the floor and he slammed into the first of the stone steps leading up to the dais where the arch sat. He managed to maintain his grip on the rope, but he was helpless to stop his motion towards the arch. Cho screamed once again, but this time it was not for joy. He was being dragged head first back towards the arch and, in a few heartbeats, he would be gone again; this time forever.

Just as his head reached the top step, Harry managed to flip himself around so that he was sliding feet first. He spread his legs wide and caught the sides of the archway, jamming himself in the entrance. His legs screamed in agony as he tried to hold on. His back felt as if he were being torn in two as he pulled with what little strength he had left. He felt Remus' hands grasp his arms.

"Just let go, Harry," he said softly. "You're back, just let the rope go."

"No," Harry panted. It was a struggle just to get enough breath to speak as he pulled against the rope, against fate. "Sirius is at the other end."

"What?" Remus grabbed at the free end of the rope and, bracing his feet against the first step, leaned against the rope with all his strength.

Tonks and Dumbledore joined him and they were soon making headway in the struggle. As soon as the strain was taken from Harry, he collapsed. Cho and Mad-eye pulled him out of the way before the archway could draw him back in.

As he fell to the floor, Harry began to struggle to reach the rope again. Cho held him back.

"Relax now, Harry," she cooed into his ear. "They're getting him out. We'll watch them from here. Relax, your part is over."

Harry shook his head. "It will never be over," he whispered, too softly for her to hear. He watched as more and more of the rope was withdrawn from the arch, waiting for Sirius to be pulled through.

Moody quickly took up a position behind the three labourers. With his off hand he would grab the rope and toss it behind him and onto the steps. His other hand still held his wand pointed at the arch in case something happened. Suddenly, progress came up short. No matter how the three struggled, no more rope would come through.

"It's useless," gasped Tonks. "There must be a knot or something."

"Sirius," Harry managed to say, "the knot is Sirius. He's right at the archway." Harry stumbled out of Cho's grasp and grabbed the rope. "No you don't, Sirius. I've come too far to let you go now." He pulled with all the strength he had left. Nothing. Not a single millimetre of the rope came through. "So help me, Sirius," Harry panted, "if you don't get out here right this minute, I'm coming back in there and kicking you through."

"Once more," Remus said. "On three. One... Two... Three..." Cho had joined them and all five pulled with all their might. There was a mighty jerk that knocked everyone but Dumbledore to the ground. For a second Harry thought that the rope had snapped but instead of a ragged end, there, just this side of the arch, lay a black lump, covered with slime.

Harry crawled over to it. Remus looked torn between pulling Harry back or joining him. Harry grabbed the rope and quickly the knots came undone and the rope fell away. Harry pawed at the lump. He began to move and shift it. Soon, they could recognize the form a huge black dog lying on the stone floor.

"Padfoot?" Remus said awestruck. "Is it really you?"

Dumbledore stood calmly, shaking his head slowly at the scene before him. Harry was on his knees, wiping the goo from the dog's eyes and listening to its ragged breathing. The dog got shakily to its feet, swaying as its eyes slowly came to focus.

Gradually, the animal became steadier when suddenly he began to shake his head vigorously. Like a wave, the shaking worked its way down the dog's body, flinging goo around the room as it flew out of his hair. Harry barely had time to get his hands over his face to avoid being caked in the slime. Most of the others weren't so lucky.

"Padfoot, you stupid beast!" Remus exclaimed, trying to shake the goo off of his hands and wand.

"Is that really..." Tonks began.

"Is it Sirius?" Harry finished for her. "I don't know, but I know one thing, it is Snuffles."