The Traitor's Blood

CHAPTER SEVEN

Harry felt that familiar feeling, like a hook pulling him from somewhere around his naval. The cold, dark room dissolved quickly in a swirl of black. Harry could still feel Dumbledore next to him. Then everything stopped moving just as suddenly as it had started. Harry felt himself fall forwards and put his hands out to support himself. He felt extremely dizzy and disorientated.

He was now on his hands and knees inside Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. Dumbledore got to his feet and threw the Chocolate Frog box into the wastepaper basket by his desk. Then he turned to Harry and held out a hand for him, which Harry took gratefully. He got unsteadily to his feet, his legs shaking violently as he pressed his weight on them. Dumbledore kept a remarkably strong hold on Harry, considering his frail appearance. He helped Harry over to a seat by the desk and lowered him into it.

The door to Dumbledore's office swung open so suddenly that Harry cricked his neck as he swung around to look at it. McGonagall came bustling in to the office with a look of deep concern on her face. She looked mortified when she caught sight of Harry.

"Oh, heavens," she muttered. "Thank goodness you're alright. We've been so worried."

"Minerva, would you be so kind as to ask Madam Pomfrey to prepare a hot bath," asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, of course." McGonagall tried to compose herself. "Right away, Headmaster."

She turned and left, closing the door again behind her.

"Now," Dumbledore turned back to Harry, "I suspect a nice warm mug of hot chocolate is in order."

He brandished his wand again and produced a tray from thin air, containing two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He took his seat behind the desk and indicated for Harry to help himself to a mug. Harry took the drink eagerly and drank it all in three big gulps. It was heavenly. The warmth filled his body instantly from head to toe. He felt the pain in his head subside for the first time in days.

"What happened?" he croaked. "Where's Ron? Is he OK?"

"He is fine," assured Dumbledore. "He has been more concerned about you."

"Where was I?" asked Harry, placing his empty mug back on the tray. Dumbledore indicated for him to take the second mug and he did so gladly.

"Azkaban," said Dumbledore calmly.

Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"That was Azkaban prison?" he asked uncertainly. "How could I be in ... in there?"

Dumbledore sighed. It was a deep, exhausted sigh.

"I am sorry, Harry," he said finally.

"Sorry ... for what?"

"You have to understand, I had your best interests at heart," Dumbledore sighed again, "but then, my judgements have not always been my best where you are concerned."

"I ... I don't understand, Professor," Harry stammered. He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to focus on Dumbledore's face.

"The Ministry of Magic has reason to believe that you murdered a muggle," said Dumbledore slowly.

"The Ministry ... believes ... what?" Harry was completely taken aback.

"They have a witness who has testified against you," replied Dumbledore. "But the Ministry has refused to release the name of their witness - even to me. 'Witness Protection' they are calling it. Well, this person supposedly saw you murder the muggle using the death curse ..."

"But I don't know how to use that curse," pleaded Harry.

"I know," replied Dumbledore calmly. "I told the Ministry that exact same thing at your trial ..."

"Trial?" Harry was even more shocked.

"Yes, Harry, I attended your trial earlier today, accompanied by Mr Ron Weasley. It has been a week since you disappeared from outside the Leaky Cauldron. We had been looking for you for less than twenty-four hours when Ron Weasley turned up at Grimmauld Place. He informed the Order of your kidnapping, but by the time we arrived at the warehouse you were gone and to our surprise the Ministry of Magic were already at the scene. Cornelius Fudge informed me that you, Harry, had been seen murdering a muggle and had been taken to Azkaban prison.

"Of course, I called for your trial to be held immediately. I could have simply gone to Azkaban six days ago and taken you. We could have hidden from the Ministry; the Order would have supported us. But that is not a life I wanted for you. I did not want to be the man who dragged you into life as a fugitive. Sirius Black would not have wanted that for you and neither would your parents."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

"So, I played by the rules and waited for your trial," Dumbledore continued, "I was very anxious about waiting six days, but I had no idea of how you were being treated. If I had known, Harry, I assure you I would have come sooner."

"But surely the Ministry doesn't usually treat their prisoners like ... like that," asked Harry bitterly.

"Of course not. It was only this morning that I realised something was very wrong. When we arrived at your trial, we were told that you would not be present. The Ministry believes that you attempted to escape..."

"What?" Harry nearly choked on his hot chocolate. This was all sounding more insane by the second.

"I was told that you had been placed in maximum security and would not be allowed to attend you trail."

Harry could hear the edge in Dumbledore's voice, which assured him Dumbledore was on his side in all this.

"Thankfully, with Ron Weasley's testimony, we were able to have you released. But I have to warn you, the Ministry still believes you killed the man. With evidence of the kidnapping, it was decided that you had acted in self-defence."

"But I didn't kill anyone," Harry pleaded desperately. "There was a Death Eater ..."

"I know, Harry, I am on your side, remember. But we had to get you out of there. They refused to believe Ron's testimony. It was suggested that he was simply covering up for you. There was strong evidence that he was a witness - his wand was found at the scene. But his testimony of the actual murder was dismissed. Our only choice was to plead for self-defence. I told the Wizengamot that if you had managed to kill the muggle, it must have been as a last resort. They finally agreed to release you, pending further investigation."

"But I thought you had been re-elected Chief Warlock?" Harry asked. None of this was making any sense.

"Yes, but the Wizengamot is falling apart under the pressure. I have managed to right a few wrongs over the last few weeks, including clearing Sirius Black's name ..."

Harry looked away at the sound of his godfather's name.

"But when it comes to activity from Voldemort's Death Eater's," Dumbledore continued, "the court members are easily misled. They would prefer to accept the word of some unknown witness of Fudge's, than accept that the Death Eater's have already begun killing innocent muggles. But I daresay it will not be long before their eyes are opened to reality.

"So, do not worry, Harry. Everything will work out in the end. For now, it is simply a relief to have you back in the safety of the school."

They both sat in silence for several minutes. Harry was slowly digesting everything Dumbledore had told him. But he had many unanswered questions. It was all very confusing and his head was beginning to throb again.

A knock on the door interrupted the silence.

"Come in," Dumbledore commanded.

The door opened and McGonagall entered the office again.

"I've come for Mr Potter."

"Ah, thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore smiled up at her. "Are the others on their way?"

"Yes, they will be here soon," she replied, strolling over to Harry's chair and holding out her hand. "Now come along, Potter, let's get you cleaned up."

Harry took her hand and got shakily to his feet. His head swam uncomfortably and for a moment he was worried he might be sick. McGonagall kept a tight grasp on his hand and led him towards the exit.

"We shall talk again later," Dumbledore called out to Harry, who turned his head briefly to look back at the blurred outline of his headmaster.

McGonagall led Harry out of the office and down the staircase, which moved continuously like a spiral escalator. They stepped off the staircase into the corridor below and McGonagall steered Harry through a series of corridors and staircases until they reached the hospital wing.

As soon as they entered the ward, Madam Pomfrey, the school nurse, began fussing over Harry. She led him into the bathroom, where she had drawn him a hot bubble bath. She handed him a fluffy white towel and a soft bath robe, and closed the door behind her.

Harry removed his jeans and t-shirt, which was not an easy task as they had glued themselves to his skin. He threw his filthy clothes into a pile on the floor and stepped into the hot water. Then he lay down, sinking into the thick comfortable mass of bubbles.