Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: The Truth

The final Quidditch match of the season was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, and Harry was more than a little nervous, though he tried not to show it as he sat with his team around the breakfast table. With Harry's blessing and a unanimous team vote, Ron had been elected co-captain, coaching from the air, while Harry, Dor, Hermione, and whoever else turned up, watched from the stands.

Ginny once again played seeker, and Geoffrey Hooper, the team's alternate, had taken her place as a Chaser. They weren't bad, on the whole, but after only a few weeks of frenzied practices, no one was very confident about this match.

To his chagrin, Harry's removal from the team had been publicly explained as the result of lasting injuries sustained from the accident in the Potions lesson. Nott and some of the other Slytherins had taken to wheezing loudly and clutching their chests whenever Harry passed by them in the halls.

"Right," Ron said authoritatively as he stood up from the table. "Let's head down to the pitch and get kitted up. Then we can run over our plays a few more times before the match starts."

Andrew Kirke groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward as though asking for strength. "Weasley, I swear to Godric, if you pull out those sodding charts again, I'm going to feed them to you -- backwards!"

Ron's face flushed, but he managed to retain his look of captainly dignity.

"If you'd pay attention once in a while instead of just staring at your like a bloody magpie reflection the whole time, then maybe he wouldn't have to repeat it so often." Jack Sloper cuffed Andrew on the back of the head and stood to follow Ron. Andrew sputtered indignantly and leapt from his seat, chasing Jack towards the door.

Katie grinned and shook her head as she turned to follow. "Save it for the pitch, you two!" she called after them. Geoff and Will were already half way out of the hall, their heads bent together over a well-worn playbook. Of the active Gryffindor team members, only Ginny remained.

"Alright?" Harry asked, nudging her arm with his elbow. She shrugged, refusing to look him in the eye.

"Hey," Harry said, poking her with his elbow again until she looked up. "If you're worried about the match, don't be. You're an excellent Seeker, and Hooper's been picking up on the plays really well." He hoped that his voice sounded more sure of his convictions than he really felt.

"It's not that," Ginny said. "It's just--" She broke off, glancing at Dor and Hermione -- who were listening unabashedly.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Don't mind us," she said quickly, grabbing her porridge and scooting down the table a few feet.

"Oh. Er. Yeah," Dor agreed, gathering up his own breakfast. "We've got to... check out the scenery from over here, anyway."

"So?" Harry asked quietly once Dor and Hermione were out of earshot and waffling on loudly about the match and the weather. "What's up then?"

Ginny heaved a great sigh and started staring at her breakfast plate again. "I've just -- I've got a weird feeling."

Harry felt something deep in his stomach clench involuntarily. "Did you have another vision?" he asked even more quietly.

Ginny shook her head. "I haven't seen anything in Divination since we switched over to astrology. I just feel..."

"Weird," Harry finished, and a muscle clenched in Ginny's jaw.

"I didn't ask for this, you know," she said, pushing her breakfast plate away from her. "Bloody visions -- I don't even like Divination."

"I know," Harry said soothingly. "Believe me, I know." They were silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Above them, a familiar whoosh and clatter signaled the arrival of the morning post.

"Well, I'd better get down to the pitch," Ginny said, standing abruptly from the table. "Ron will have kittens if I'm late for his lecture." She turned to go but paused, looking back at Harry with worried eyes. "Just promise me -- promise me you won't do anything dangerous today, Harry," she said in a low voice.

Harry forced a laugh. "How much trouble can I get into from the stands?" he asked, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. Ginny looked unconvinced. "Don't worry about me; I'll be good," Harry said wryly, turning back to his breakfast. "You just worry about catching the Snitch."

Ginny nodded curtly and went off for the pitch.

Harry picked up his own breakfast, meaning to join Hermione and Dor once again, when a large black raven landed directly in front of him. It had a piece of parchment tied to its leg, and it looked up at Harry expectantly with its beetle black eyes

"Is that for me?" Harry asked. The raven made a funny croaking noise and tucked its head under one wing, preening. Uncertainly, Harry reached out and deftly untied the parchment from the raven's leg. As soon as its message was delivered, the raven cawed noisily and leaped into the air, soon it was no more than a black blur amid the whites and browns of the post owls winging their way back to the owlry.

Glancing down at the parchment in his hand, Harry's heart stopped. His name had been hurriedly written across the front, but the loopy handwriting was unmistakable.

"What's that, Harry?" Dor asked.

Harry flipped open the parchment without answering. The note it contained was short and to the point.

Harry --

~Remus

"Was that a raven?" Hermione asked, scanning the few remaining birds still fluttering around the ceiling. "Who is it from?"

"Remus," Harry said breathlessly.

"Is he alright?" Dor asked.

"What does it say, Harry?" Hermione asked, holding out her hand for the note. Harry automatically started to pass it to her, but then he paused.

Remus' information was nothing new; they had already guessed that there was a connection between the attacks and the Sect, and they had known for months that someone at Hogwarts was not what they seemed. Harry had a sinking suspicion that if he told Dor and Hermione what the note actually said, they would insist on locking him in Gryffindor tower until Remus arrived. He would miss the final match.

Quickly he folded the parchment and shoved it in his pocket.

"It just says that he's okay and that he's on his way here," Harry said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Dor gave Harry a curious look, but shrugged. "Good!" he replied, shoving the last of his bacon into his mouth. "Maybe he's got some new information for us. I, for one, am going to have a lot to say to him!" He dusted off his hands and grabbed his cane. "We'd better go if we want to get good seats."

Hermione still looked skeptical, and Harry hastily downed the last of his pumpkin juice to avoid her doubtful gaze and try to come up with a quick change of subject.

He need not have worried, however, as Gwyn was approaching from the Ravenclaw table.

Dor's constant presence, as Harry's human shadow, had put a strain on his and Gwyn's relationship over the past weeks. They hadn't had time to talk privately, much less be alone, since Harry's trip to the Hospital Wing.

"What's up?" he said as she approached. "Come to root for the winning team?"

Gwyn shook her head. "Have you seen the paper this morning?"

Harry glanced over at Hermione. She blinked, surprised, and reached for her book bag. "I was planning to read it in the stands while we waited for the game to start," she explained, rummaging around for her copy of The Prophet.

"Draco's father has escaped from prison," Gwyn said bluntly. Harry felt his mouth go dry. "He and a bunch of other Death Eaters."

"How?" Dor demanded.

Gwyn shrugged. "They just walked out. They didn't have their wands, but apparently some of them can do wandless magic."

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione gasped, staring at the paper now in her hands. "There should be wards against that sort of thing."

Dor shook his head. "They weren't needed before the dementors left. Prisoners were too weak, too depressed, to be able to perform any sort of wandless magic."

Only they weren't Harry thought, not even before the dementors left. Sirius had enough strength to turn into a dog...

"But once the dementors were gone," Hermione was arguing, "why weren't the fortifications redoubled?"

Dor opened his mouth to answer, then noticed Gwyn; she was watching him closely with an oddly suspicious expression on her face. "I don't know," Dor said lamely. "But there's no use debating it when the cat's already among the pixies."

"Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked, turning back to Gwyn.

"I don't think he's here," Gwyn said, glancing around. "But Harry--" She grabbed his arm and pulled him towards her. "This is bad, isn't it?"

"It isn't good," Harry agreed.

"Is Lucius Malfoy the person behind these attacks on you?" Gwyn asked in a low voice.

Harry frowned at her in surprise. "No," he said. "At least, I don't think so. We think it might be--"

"Harry!" Hermione said sharply. Harry turned to look at her; she was glaring at him, her eyes dark with anger.

"We should go," Dor said quietly. "It'll throw off Ron's game if you're not there when they start, Harry."

Dor poked Hermione with his cane and the two of them stood up from the table. Harry made to follow.

"I'll see you after the match, I guess," he said to Gwyn and shrugged.

"Harry," Gwyn said quietly, still holding his arm. "Let's celebrate tonight after the game, no matter who wins. Just you and me." She looked up at him through her silky blonde fringe and Harry's stomach fluttered.

"That sounds great," he said breathlessly, "but--"

Gwyn cut off his protests with a firm kiss. Harry heard a couple of catcalls from nearby, but he could hardly care.

"Good luck," Gwyn said with a little wink as she walked away.

Dor chose seats for them right next to the Professors' box. "I want backup in case anything goes wrong," he insisted when Harry gave him a dirty look. With a resigned sigh, Harry took a seat on the aisle next to Hermione and Dor. Neville was in front of him with Dean and Seamus. Normally, the three of them constituted eighty percent of the volume for the Gryffindor cheering section, but today Neville was oddly quiet. He did not turn around or even acknowledge Harry's presence when the other boys greeted him.

"Don't cheer too hard, now," Dean admonished, shaking a finger in Harry's direction. "You have to get well so you can play for our final season!"

Harry forced a smile and quickly looked away as Madam Hooch's whistle signaled the players to take the field. Jealousy writhed in his belly as Harry saw his teammates swoop out onto the pitch. Andrew and Jack did a quick and showy double loop-de-loop before taking position in the center of the field.

"This is the hardest part for you, isn't it?" a voice asked quietly. Harry turned to see Professor Lindell sitting across the aisle from him in the Professors' box. She had a small, unobtrusive red and gold rosette pinned to her robes.

Harry shrugged. "It's just, this is the second year in a row I've had to miss the final game..."

Madam Hooch's whistle interrupted him and the players were off. Cho automatically shot upwards, rising above the plain of action to search for the Snitch. Ginny did not follow. She preferred to stay level with her teammates, keeping an eye on the rest of the play going on around her as she searched. Harry gritted his teeth, wishing it were him out there.

Professor Lindell was right, of course. It wasn't the danger, or the attacks, or the worry that really got to him the most. The worst part about being the Boy Who Lived was just this: not being able to play in a Quidditch game, not being able to go to Hogsmeade, not being able to make time to see his girlfriend without a bloody chaperone.

Harry glanced across to the section of the stands where the Ravenclaws were sitting. It was easy to locate Gwyn, sitting next to Luna -- whose ridiculous eagle shaped hat screeched and flapped with terrifying realism. He watched Gwyn cheer and clap as one of the Ravenclaw Chasers drove the Quaffle towards the Gryffindor goals, but Ron blocked it easily and a cheer went up from the Gryffindors all around him.

Play continued for more than an hour, and it became more and more difficult for Harry to watch the match. Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were evenly matched, and either needed to score at least three hundred points to beat Slytherin to the Quidditch cup. Harry nearly pulled a muscle when he spotted the Snitch and Gryffindor was only three goals up. He was fairly certain Ginny had seen it too, but they had talked about this in practices: if she could possibly help it, she wouldn't go for the Snitch until the Chasers had scored enough goals to cinch the cup.

And still the game wore on. The Chasers and Keepers were so evenly matched that they pitted one another goal for goal until they were tied at ten apiece. One hundred points more for either one and the cup would be out of Slytherin hands.

Madam Hooch called a half-hour time out around noon so that the players could rest and get something to eat. House Elves in Hogwarts tea towels appeared at the end of each row, passing out sandwiches and bottles of pumpkin juice, much to Hermione's chagrin.

Harry barely tasted the lunch that was passed to him. According to the commentary, this was already the longest Quidditch match in twenty years of Hogwarts history, and he was stuck watching it from the stands.

When the match resumed, Harry could tell that his team was quickly tiring; they had never played, nor even practiced, for as long as this game seemed wont to last. Ron allowed two goals in quick succession before successfully blocking a third, but the Gryffindor Chasers responded in kind, quickly evening up the score and adding one extra for good measure.

Suddenly, Cho exploded into a steep dive, and the Ravenclaw fans erupted with excitement. Ginny had no choice but to follow. In the stands, Harry was on his feet, straining to see the glint of gold that Cho was chasing, yearning to be the one striving to reach the Snitch.

As long as the game had gone on, it was over in moments. Ginny executed a perfect dive with a barrel roll and reached the Snitch before Cho. The Gryffindors won the game with two-hundred and eighty points -- twenty short of the three hundred they needed to win the cup.

Harry sank back onto the bench in mild shock. In front of him, Dean and Seamus were still screaming themselves hoarse, but all around, Gryffindors were beginning to do the maths and realising that they had won the battle but lost the war.

The victory party in the Gryffindor common room that night was somewhat subdued. Several people, Ron among them, were taking the loss of the Cup rather badly, while others seemed to be making the best of their season. Ginny was trying to lighten the mood by passing around a box of Entertain-Mints, including the newest flavor of Tell-All Toffees.

"You won every game," Hermione was saying, attempting to console Ron. "You did everything you could, but there were extenuating circumstances."

"Well, obviously we didn't do enough," Ron pouted. "Next year we'll just have to train twice as hard and twice as long, because we're -- hey!"

Andrew grabbed Ron under one arm while Jack hoisted him under the other.

"We did good," Andrew said, dragging Ron towards a knot of students with bushy mustaches and bubbles coming out of their ears.

"And we worked hard," Jack added.

"So, we won. Bugger the bloody cup."

Hermione smiled at Ron's sputtering as he was fed a Canary Cream and burst in a cascade of yellow feathers. "I hope he listens to them," she said, turning back towards Harry, "and I hope you do too. It was a good season."

Harry shrugged. He couldn't help but feel that they might have been able to win if they had been allowed to play with their normal team. He frowned to himself and shook his head. He needed a distraction.

"I think I'll go get Gwyn. She can celebrate with us," Harry said suddenly, rising from his chair. Dor got up as well, setting his butterbeer bottle on the floor and grabbing his cane.

Hermione, too, leapt to her feet and came to stand right in front of Harry. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asked quickly. "I mean, Gwyn is a Ravenclaw after all. She might not want to be the only member of the losing team at the victory party."

Harry gave her a skeptical look. "Erm... I don't think she'll mind this particular victory party -- no one's feeling all that victorious. Besides, she said herself that we should get together after the game, no matter who--"

"You don't want to get her in trouble, do you?" Hermione asked, planting her fists on her hips. "She isn't supposed to be here. What if McGonagall shows up?"

Harry snorted. "McGonagall won't show up unless we're making too much noise after hours. You know that."

"Well, I don't think that people from other houses should know where our dormitory is." Hermione's voice began to rise. "And if you bring Gwyn here, she'll know our password, too." She turned to look at Dor, who was standing behind Harry. "Don't tell me you're going to go along with this?"

"Er..." Dor looked confused. "I don't really see the harm in--"

"Don't see the harm?" Hermione interrupted him. "Am I the only one here with any common sense?" People around them were beginning to stare. Ron broke away from the candy-testing set and started towards them.

Hermione took a step forward and lowered her voice. "Harry, Gryffindor Tower is the only place you're really safe anymore. If you go around giving out the password to just anybody..."

"Gwyn isn't 'just anybody,'" Harry argued. "She's my girlfriend, in case you had forgotten, and I trust her--"

"Well, I don't." Hermione said. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "You've got to be smart about this. We hardly know anything about her."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked, frowning.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm saying, you have to be careful. Someone here is

trying to kill you!"

Harry stared at her, dumbstruck for a moment as a dozen tiny puzzle pieces began to fit themselves together in his head.

"You think she's the attacker?" he demanded. Hermione's ferocity seemed to fade a little. She bit her lip, but did not look away. "Don't you?" Harry shouted.

Hermione flinched but still did not look away. She raised her chin with a rebellious look and said, "Yes."

For a moment, Harry just stared at her, unable to believe what he was hearing. Did she really think he was that stupid? That he wouldn't notice if his own girlfriend was trying to kill him?

Unable to find words to put to his outrage, Harry shouldered past her and headed for the portrait hole.

"Harry, wait!" Hermione cried, grabbing his arm. "Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," Harry retorted wrenching out of her grip.

"Please, Harry -- I only want to keep you safe. Think about it! She's been there every time you've been attacked at school; more than once, she's gotten you to sneak out without telling Dor or anyone else; and she's the only new person here who's managed to get close to you!"

"What about Professor Lindell? She's new."

"She's a professor..."

Harry scowled and shook his head. "Gwyn and I have been off on our own more times than I can count. If she were really trying to kill me, don't you think she'd have managed it by now?"

"I don't know, Harry!" Hermione said. "Maybe that's not her plan. But you've got to admit -- we don't know anything about her."

"Other than the fact that her father is here working against the Death Eaters, that she's been told to stop seeing me -- that she isn't bloody well trying to kill me!"

Hermione threw up her hands. "I knew you would overreact!" she shouted. "I should have gone straight to Dumbledore after you snuck out."

"You don't trust me at all!"

"Not when you're so smitten by blonde hair and big blue eyes that you can't see right in front of your face!"

"I am not--"

"Oh come off it. If I hadn't taken your cloak, you would have snuck out to see her again and again!"

Harry stared at her, taking in what she had just said. "YOU took my cloak?" he roared.

Hermione stuck out her chin and glared at him. "And I'd do it again," she said firmly. "Someone has got to save you from your own hormones."

Harry shook his head in disbelief and started for the door again. "Gwyn was right -- you're just jealous."

"Jealous!" Hermione's tone was wildly incredulous. "Of what, exactly? All her American charm and good breeding?" She snorted. "I think not."

Harry whirled around to face her again. "How about the fact that she's actually better at things than you are?"

Hermione scoffed. "Like what?"

"Like Charms maybe? Or how about Ancient Runes? She knew all about those symbols on the amulet that you had never seen before."

"Because she studied them last year!" Hermione countered angrily, her cheeks turning bright red. "That doesn't mean she's better -- just that she's already studied--"

"And how about the fact that everybody likes her? She's got tons of friends and--"

"Being a fair weather friend isn't something to envy--"

"And," Harry continued, unabated, "she's prettier than you! You just can't stand it! She's smart, and pretty, and popular -- everything you wish you could be, but aren't!"

Harry's words seemed to echo in the suddenly silent common room. Everyone had stopped celebrating to watch Harry and Hermione have it out. Ron was standing behind Hermione with his jaw hanging open as though it had slipped out of its hinges. Dor was leaning against the arm of a chair, grimacing,.

Hermione's eyes glistened dangerously, but no tears escaped. She and Harry stared at one another in silence for what felt like eons.

"You can say what you like, Harry," Hermione said quietly, "but I know the facts. I know what I've seen, I know what I believe, and I'm going straight to Dumbledore. I should have done a long time ago."

She pushed past Harry with fierce determination, slamming the portrait open and earning a sharp reprimand from the Fat Lady as she left the tower.

Harry watched her go, anger boiling up inside him. Intent on giving Dumbledore his side as well, he made to follow, but someone caught him by the arm.

"Maybe you'd better cool off first, mate," Dor said calmly. Harry shrugged out of his grip.

"Cool off? You heard what she said, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did, and I hate to say it, but some of it made a lot of sense."

"Not you too," Harry groaned.

"Show's over, you lot!" Ron yelled suddenly, turning to the mass of Gryffindors all still watching the drama play out before them. "Find something else to do or I'll start taking points -- we haven't won the House Cup yet, you know." Reluctantly, the crowd began to disperse.

"Look," Harry snarled at Dor, "I realize that you all think I'm the biggest idiot that ever lived, but don't you think I'd notice if my girlfriend were trying to kill me?"

"Not necessarily," Dor replied in his infuriatingly calm voice. "Whoever is behind these attacks is crafty -- they'd have to be to evade discovery all this time in such a contained population."

"But--" Harry shook his head. "No. I can't believe it. You guys don't know her the way I do."

"No," Dor said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We don't. So why don't we just calm down and wait for Dumbledore to sort everything out."

"What does Dumbledore know?" Harry retorted, backing away from Dor. "He doesn't know her any more than the rest of you do! That's why I have to go tell him--"

"You're not going anywhere, Harry," Dor said in a very low voice. "Even if I have to stun you and lock you in the dormitory, you're not leaving Gryffindor Tower tonight."

Harry stared at him incredulously. "You're just going to take Hermione's side. Just like that?"

Dor's expression grew sympathetic. "Nobody's taking sides. If Gwyn's innocent, she's got nothing to worry about. Have a little faith in the system."

"That didn't help Sirius," Harry said flatly. He relished the stunned look on Dor's face as he turned and headed for the dormitory stairs. "It's hard to have faith in a system that doesn't have faith in me."

"Harry," Ron called with a pleading note in his voice.

"Just leave me alone, Ron."

Slamming the dormitory door behind him, Harry threw himself onto his bed. Thoughts were swirling around in his head faster and more densely than the storm in his Centre.

Could it be...?