Buried Secrets

Chapter 2 - Embarking A Quest

A stunned silence fell upon the room. Harry, knees on the floor, stared at his godfather blankly. Cho opened and closed her mouth a few times. Celestine had her hand over her mouth and her large sapphire eyes were wide open with shock.

Mrs. Figg sighed. She walked over to Harry and put a hand on his shoulder, without saying a word.

Finally, Cho broke the silence. "Um...excuse me, Mrs. Figg," she said, ignoring the stares that followed. "But since you recognize the poison, why is the counter poison..."

"We don't have the ingredients required," Mrs. Figg replied. "They are very rare."

"What about Snape? He's the potions master at Hogwarts! He might have them!" Harry burst out.

Arabella Figg shook her head. "Severus, I'm afraid, is not at Hogwarts at the moment. He's on a --he has his hands full now, and it may cause a fatal mistake if we disrupt his schedule. No, Harry. Snape is out of the question."

Harry sank down onto the floor. He said nothing, but he looked so miserable that Cho couldn't bear to look at him.

"Arabella," Celestine sat up. She did not look well; she had a patch of gauze over her forehead and there were several other bandaged spots on her arms and legs. "I know this sounds very far-fetched, but I think that maybe Lucius Malfoy has the counter poison."

"Lucius Malfoy?" Mrs. Figg said sharply. "Why?"

Celestine repeated the attack that happened earlier, and concluded, "Since he had such a deadly poison with him, I believe it's essential to keep the counter poison handy, in case of accidents."

"But we don't know where Malfoy lives. He's known to be very--secretive," Mrs. Figg pointed out. She did not know, however, that a certain person in their presence was trying to decide whether or not to speak up.

"I...I know."

They all turned their attention to a nervous, white-faced Cho Chang. "Where they live, I mean." She continued hurriedly, "I've known Draco Malfoy since I was five. We used to be neighbours until they moved away three years ago, but at Draco's thirteenth birthday, I was invited as an old friend, and I think I can remember the way."

Harry looked over at Mrs. Figg eagerly, but sooner than he ventured to speak, the old lady stopped him.

"No, I can't," the old lady snapped back, her black eyes glinting with severe warning. "There's ancient magic around this place, Harry. If I go, old Voldie's gonna be here in no time. You want that to happen?"

"But..."

"I can go." Cho was secretly amused; she had expected them to all be horrified. In her mind, the Malfoys, her childhood friends, weren't a big deal.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I have a better chance to survive, Harry," she continued. "You can't walk up to Draco and say, ‘Hey Draco, I need to make a counter poison for Sirius Black!’ At least he won't be surprised to see me."

It felt utterly pointless--and unnecessary--to offer to do this for someone she hardly knew. Maybe she was tired of seeing those faces mixed with pity and fear during the summer. Maybe she was just showing off--an attempt to prove that she's a smart Ravenclaw, not a useless 'widow'. Or maybe she could not bear to see a man, who'd spent more than ten years in jail for nothing, to die painfully before her, when she had the chance to save his life. Whatever, she had made the right decision.

"Hmm." Mrs. Figg folded her lips. "I must have a word with you first, young lady. We won't be long. And keep an eye on your godfather." The last sentence was directed to Harry, who was wearing the strangest expression.

Mrs. Figg led Cho to a room that was well hidden under the staircase, and shut the door abruptly once they were in. Cho peeked nervously about; there was nothing in the room, except for stacks of packages of cat food in the corners.

Mrs. Figg waved her wand, and two small stools appeared, landing on the floor with a bump. "Sit."

Cho did, still wondering why Mrs. Figg wanted to talk to her privately. She soon found out the reason.

"Now, tell me your name, age, and how well you and Harry know each other at school."

"Um..." So Mrs. Figg had doubts trusting her. Cho felt a bit hurt, but replied promptly, "My name's Cho Chang, I'm sixteen, and...Harry and I...we're just friends." A sudden image of Harry asking her to the ball flashed through her mind. But he might...he might want more.

"Cho Chang? One of the Changs--?"

Cho nodded. "Our name's not as well known now. Since my father lost all his money and dignity in the stock market - well, but there are still many of my relatives around."

"I see. That's why you know Draco Malfoy; you’re both old wizarding families. Are you in Gryffindor?"

Cho shook her head. "I'm a Ravenclaw. And proud of it," she added as an afterthought.

"I was a Ravenclaw," Mrs. Figg said which gave Cho a slight surprise. "Yes, Ravenclaw's an honourable house. I was kind of disappointed when the hat didn't proclaim me a Gryffindor. Every one expected me to be sorted there. But I found that Ravenclaws were just as good pals. They were even better than the Gryffs." She smiled for the first time. Cho grinned back, feeling warmer towards the sharp-tongued old lady now.

"I guess you two don't know each other well?" Mrs. Figg fired off another question.

"No, we don’t. We're good enemies, though."

"And how's that?"

"We're seekers for our House teams. It's a matter of life or death to get the Snitch...well, at least for Harry it is. We know that Gryffindor's former captain was extremely obsessive."

"All right." Mrs. Figg smiled again, but it quickly disappeared; time was at stake. "As a Ravenclaw, tell me how you're going to obtain those ingredients."

Cho gulped. Her plan was simple, and she hadn't considered any holes or flaws in it; Mrs. Figg may laugh at her. "Well, I thought I could just tell Draco that my grandmother's sick, and tell him what ingredients we need. You know--our kind, we usually brew herbs and stuff like that. I think he'll understand."

"How are you going to get to the Malfoys? Is it far?"

"Um...is the Knight Bus available here? Okay, I take the bus to Farrington Gurney; find a place to stay for the night--"

"Why?"

"It's nearly five, Mrs. Figg, ma’am. By the time I get there, it'll be late, and Draco knows that I'd never visit him at this hour. In the morning, I’ll take a ferry to the suburbs of Farrington Gurney, to a stop called Murrayfield. Malfoy Manor should be a fifteen minutes' walk from there."

A short pause ensued. Mrs. Figg was pondering on the chance again. Cho swung her legs lightly as she sat on the stool, ideas running loosely about her head. I can't see any danger in this. It's only asking for some damned ingredients. Why so cautious?

Finally, Mrs. Figg spoke. "Cho, please tell Harry to come here."

Harry entered the room of cat food. He was twisting his hands and gave Cho a questioning look as he came over to stand beside the stool where she was sitting, waiting for Mrs. Figg to speak.

"Now don't interrupt me," Mrs. Figg said, conjuring another stool for Harry. "Harry, you go straight to the Dursleys and get your Invisibility Cloak and wand. Cho, you return to your aunt's house and leave a note. Say it's an emergency or something; I trust you, as a Ravenclaw, will know how to do it. You're going to get those ingredients for Sirius. Understand?"

Harry and Cho looked at each other quickly, and then at Mrs. Figg. Harry said, "Only me and Cho? Er...isn't that..."

"Cho, you can fill him in on the details later," interrupted Mrs. Figg, waving her wand impatiently. "Now, I'm going to teach you a spell that will help you defend yourselves, just in case. Remember--" she gave both of them a furtive, yet stern look, "--do not tell anyone about this. Swear you will never use this spell unless everything is hopeless."

If anyone had said this to her before, Cho would have burst out laughing. She actually felt a shiver; half of fear, half of delight. Mrs. Figg's authoritative attitude, unlike Dumbledore or McGonagall, had a strange effect on her and Harry. They did not ask any questions, though both were burning with curiosity. What was the spell she was going to teach them?

"You will be able to stun a person without using your wand using this particular hex. In fact, all you have to do is say the incarnation in your head. Repeat after me, occaeco exanimo!"

Excited, Cho repeated the incarnation several times in a ringing, clear voice. Harry, however, muttered the words in low tones slowly. For the next twenty minutes, Mrs. Figg taught them how to focus on their target, how to concentrate properly, and how to increase force.

To their astonishment, Cho and Harry found the spell pretty easy, though the result was relatively powerful. At Cho's second attempt to make a huge bag of cat food to fall off from the shelf, the object came down with a resounding crash, but at the same time, she felt her knees weaken. A sizable amount of energy seemed to have drained from her body.

To their surprise, Mrs. Figg nodded. "Well done. A full-force blow, Cho."

"Why does it have that side effect on Cho?" Harry asked, resisting the temptation to help the young Ravenclaw as she staggered to her feet, trying to regain balance.

Mrs. Figg pulled over a stool and made Cho sit down. "Frankly, the Unvigilance Spell is strictly forbidden by the Ministry. It...it’s part of the Dark Arts. You see, you're doing magic without a wand, so your body has to provide the source. You've let out a great deal of energy Cho, so naturally you cannot stand the consequences. You've found that this spell wasn't hard to learn but dangerous to use, also very difficult to avoid being attacked--which are traits of the Dark Arts. That's why it's not allowed--and why it's irresistible to those who want power in a short time."

Harry understood. He was beginning to comprehend some of the reasons that made the Death Eaters willing to serve Voldemort, evil and terrible as he was. It was like an easy, but dishonest way to get money.

"Only use it when absolutely necessary." Mrs. Figg gave them a last sound drill as they returned to the living room. Celestine was sitting up now, her face adorned with bandages which could not hide her worried expression. "Oh Arabella!" she exclaimed, tugging at a lock of her hair nervously. "Sirius...he seems to have become worse."

They all looked. Sirius's face looked greener--almost like the ivy that covered the roof of Mrs. Figg's house. His eyes were not closed tightly as before, but it was worse; they could only see the whites of his eyes. There was blood all over his lips--apparently he was biting them from the pain he was suffering.

Mrs. Figg used her wand to perform a charm, and Sirius fell into a deep sleep. He still looked terrible, but at least he wasn’t feeling the same amount of agony as he did when he was awake. Cho saw Harry clench his fists.

"Celestine, I'm going to send Harry and Cho to get the ingredients we need."

"What? You mean them?"

"Can't help it; it's the only thing we can do now." Mrs. Figg shook her head. Celestine started to protest, but Harry looked as though nothing was going to stop him from going. Cho stood beside him, thinking that they had better get the ingredients and quick, or he might go mad.

"I'll hail the Knight Bus for you," said Mrs. Figg, as she opened the door. "Now, I want you two to be careful. If things get out of hand, run! If we get the stuff; it’ll be bloody brilliant, but if we can't, Sirius wouldn't want you to risk your life. Understand, Harry?" She tapped him on the shoulder with her cane. "And Cho, you take care too. I'm very glad you ran into Harry today, or I just don't know what we'd do."

After promising to return within fifteen minutes, the two teenagers broke into a run. When Cho got to her aunt's, she found her aunt weeding the backyard, so she dumped the shopping bags in the kitchen, scribbled a note, and packed up some things she thought that would be useful. Then she slipped quietly back to Mrs. Figg's.

Harry hadn't been met with such luck. When he sneaked in the living room, Petunia Dursley had barked at him, ordering him to sweep and mop the rooms on the second floor. He had tried to get away as soon as possible, by saying his "murderous" godfather wanted him to stay for the rest of the holidays. It had worked, but it also meant that he had to pack everything he had without the aid of magic. He feverishly threw his robes, books, quills, and all other stuff into his trunk, trying to get ready in the least amount of time possible. He looked at Hedwig, and figured it was too much if he took her along. So he opened the cage, wrote a note to Ron, briefly describing the situation, but adding that they were not to worry. He wondered what Hermione would say.

"I'm sorry I can't take you with me," he said, giving Hedwig a pat on the head. "Just go to Ron's, he'll take good care of you, okay?" Hedwig nipped his finger affectionately, returned a soft hoot, and flew

When he lugged his trunk to the door, panting under the weight, Dudley squinted at him through his tiny eyes. "Not going to your crazy school this early, are you?" he sneered.

"I'm going to my godfather's," replied Harry coldly. Dudley flinched at the mention of 'godfather'. He had had his fill of magic, after having his tongue enlarged by two naughty young wizards. Besides, Harry was looking uncommonly serious and sober; sparks might fly if he was infuriated. So Dudley turned his attention back to the television, and his favourite program; The Great Humberto.

Harry resumed hauling his trunk with maniac energy, hoping that Vernon Dursley would not suddenly appear. It was about time his uncle came home. He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, hopefully without having to explain to another Muggle that didn’t understand the importance of him leaving now.

However, his heart sank when a knock sounded on the door. With a resigned sigh, he let his trunk fall on the floor with a dull thud, and crossed over to fling the door open. He stepped aside; waiting for the prodigious form of his uncle's to squeeze in.

Instead, the clear, sweet voice of a certain girl filled the air.

"Harry? Oh for heavens sake, hurry up! It's nearly half past five, the Knight Bus has arrived, don't you know?" Cho was standing on the porch, hands on her hips, her face flushed and glowing from running, and impatience.

Harry's jaw dropped. So did Dudley's, when he turned to see who the visitor was.

Cho was rather miffed. She was worried that Harry's relatives might be preventing him from coming out, according to Mrs. Figg's guessing, but he was still here with a mountain of luggage! What the hell was that about? It's not moving from home! She shut her teeth and stalked in to get him out. She caught a glimpse of Dudley staring at them wide-eyed, and almost laughed out loud at the sight of him. She stuck out her tongue at him in a cheeky way, but remembered to push Harry out of the door.

"I had to get everything..." Harry tried to explain. Cho was half dragging him on the street by a firm, vice-like grip on the arm, earning strange glances from passersby.

When they finally got to Mrs. Figg's, she was angry at first, but softened when she heard Harry's telling of what had happened at the Dursleys. "Leave your stuff here," she directed. "Come get them when you come back."

Harry and Cho said goodbye to Mrs. Figg, who once again warned them to take care.

The Knight Bus was waiting like a huge purple monster on the edge of the road. Stan Shunpike was standing beside the large vehicle, his pimples as profound as ever. His annoyed expression changed instantly to excitement on the spotting of Harry.

"'Arry Potter!" he exclaimed beaming. "Long time no see. ’Choo off to, 'Arry?"

"Er..." Harry looked back to Cho. She took the hint and stepped forward. "Farrington Gurney."

"Righto, blimey, woss this? Your girl?" Stan Shunpike was gaping at Cho, which made her think she must have grown a third eye.

"No, she's--" Harry started.

"Yes, I am," Cho interrupted, reaching for Harry's arm. She figured it would be more natural if they pretended to be a couple. She didn't want anyone questioning why two teenagers were going on a trip together, if they were only friends.

Harry's eyes widened, but the smaller figure beside him stepped on his foot.

"Ouch! Oh. Yeah, we, we are going--"

"To see the new movie on Salisbury Street," Cho said for him. She suddenly realized how tired and sombre Harry looked. Not the attitude you'd be in when going on a date with your girlfriend. "Isn't that great, Harry?" she added in a cheerful tone, forcing her lips to part into a laughing smile.

"Er...yeah." Harry was trying to ignore the fuzzy sensation that tingled through his veins from the small paw on his arm.

They trudged up the stairs into the bus. Everything was fairly the same as Harry remembered in his third year. Candles burned brightly in brackets on the wooden walls, the brass bedsteads were occupied by a few wizards and witches, and the elderly driver Ernie Prang peered at Harry curiously through his thick glasses.

Stan assigned them to two beds at the rear. When they flopped on the beds, Cho, being at the front, quickly turned around and told Harry why she made up their sudden relationship. Harry nodded in understanding. Anxious to change the subject, he asked her about the details of their trip to Malfoy Manor. When Stan came to wake a middle-aged wizard near their beds, he noticed them talking seriously, and chuckled.

Stan grinned at Harry slyly. "Betcha wan' a bed together?"

"No, thanks," Harry replied promptly.

Cho said nothing, but that remark had driven her to flop back on her bed. That nosy conductor! She thought irritably, turning over to bury her face into the pillow. Her mind began to swim, as the outside of the window became a blur of hazy images. She thought of her aunt, hoping that the elder woman wouldn't worry. Cho had left in the note that she had gone on a random visit to Andrea Sullivan's, a friend who was a muggle-born witch.

She thought of her mother, and suppressed a giggle as she imagined what her face would be like, had she known what her daughter was doing right now. Mrs. Chang had been brought up with traditional Chinese values, and spent her life gossiping with friends and relatives, comparing their children. Cho wasn't exactly a failure; she got excellent grades if she wanted to, and her prettiness was unsurpassed in all the young girls she knew. But Mrs. Chang still complained frequently how disobedient her daughter was, or how she refused to give up some stupid broomstick sport for better grades. "She'd never get a husband if she stays like that… Untamed, wild cat… Always run and shout. Hmph!" And now her daughter was on a crazy mission to save a man who was accused of murder, who she barely knew, and travelling with a teenage boy alone, to a place owned by a supporter of the terrible Dark Lord.

Lastly, she thought of Cedric. Her mood gradually sobered down, and tears again threatened to invade. She would never see him alive again. She would never see him flying on a broom, eating in the Great Hall, or puzzling over his studies. Life was so cruel. This set her determination to save Sirius Black. That was it. She was not going to let another innocent person perish at the hands of the Dark side.

About an hour later, a grand, glittering display of colourful lights rolled into view.

"Farrington Gurney's 'ere, 'Arry," Stan yelled. Harry and Cho scrambled up.

When they waved goodbye to Stan and Ernie, the bus conductor called, "Bye 'Arry! And bye, 'Arry’s girl!"

Both Harry and Cho turned scarlet. Cho slung her sky-blue satchel over her shoulder with great force, almost knocking Harry in the face. "If I see that pimply man again, I'll strangle him! He's so annoying!"

She looked so frustrated and indignant that Harry couldn't help laughing. "You were the one who claimed to be my girlfriend." The words were out before he knew it, and he instantly regretted of saying them. Somehow, he had forgotten how shy and uncomfortable he used to be when Cho was around. Maybe the serious mission before them had caused his head to clear and focus on more important problems. Or possibly he found Cho was no more than an ordinary girl, after getting to talk to her more closely.

Cho shot him a murderous glare, and walked off without a word. Harry trotted meekly behind, thinking desperately how to apologize.

They started down the Main Street of Farrington Gurney. Harry thought that this was some place for the wizarding world. The street was three times wider than Diagon Alley, lined with drooping willow trees adorned with clusters of tiny, real fairies. The fairies were glowing with various colours of gold, pink, lavender, pearl-white, and so on. Tall buildings that could hold five or six Hogsmeade cottages were built along the street.

"That's one of the biggest shopping malls in Farrington Gurney," Cho pointed. She did have a temper, but it never lasted long.

Harry looked accordingly. A large white edifice shaped like a squashed cake stood nearby. It had twelve windows, and products would appear bathed in glowing lights every minute in them. A huge sign situated like a rainbow across the domed roof read "Mercury & Mars". Each letter of the sign was three-dimensional and were revolving and flashing without stopping.

"Cho, isn't this place kind of...er...not for ordinary wizards?"

"For the rich, yes." the young witch replied. "We'll have a hard time finding somewhere to stay. And it better be quick, Harry, we don't look like the people here." She gestured toward three fat witches passing by, clothed in expensive silks and massive jewellery.

Suddenly, Harry grabbed Cho's arm and pulled her into a narrow alley, under a particularly thrifty tree. Cho let out a surprised cry, and he clamped a hand over her mouth. Several fairies were squeaking and twittering in tiny, high-pitched voices which again aroused Cho's irritation.

"Oomph...oomph..." gurgled Cho, while trying to free herself from Harry's arms. She was furious. What right did Harry Potter have to corner her on a wall and forbid her to speak?

Harry ignored her; he was darting glances from behind the tree. After a few unsuccessful struggles, Cho's rational side of her brain began to function, and she calmed down and tried to speak more collectedly than her initial response. Either he must be a lunatic or has a damned good reason to act this way. She decided on the latter.

"I think he's gone." Harry released her. "Sorry, Cho, I didn't mean it. I'm really sor--"

"You'd better explain," she said. By now Cho had returned to her normal self. She wasn't angry; she just wanted to know what's going on. "Who is the 'he' you're avoiding?"