Harry Potter and the Elements of Valor

Chapter Eight - As Normal As Possible

Lupin stood dumbfounded as Harry and Mac had their little talk with him about their discovery. It certainly had an effect. Lupin was disbelieving, then sure they had to be wrong, and finally, after pouring over the old text, guardedly hopeful that they had a real possible cure for his werewolf-ism. Mac had assured him that when it was time to perform some tests on the potion he could be present. Mac and Harry had then spent the rest of that afternoon until dinner, working on the complex and delicate formulation, while Lupin watched, rather anxiously.

Harry was glad when it was finally time to quit. His back was aching from standing at a table and shredding roots, just so, for what seemed hours. The room was filled with a yellowish steam, which smelled strongly of sulfur, making his eyes burn. Escaping to the fresh air of the entrance hall was a relief. He stood there for a minute next to the house hourglasses, with their shining gemstones, while students walked past on their way to dinner, some hailing him as they went by. When he felt his head clear again, Harry followed the others into the Great Hall.

Ron had saved him a seat across the table from Hermione and Ginny. The girls were discussing the dueling lesson they had that afternoon and giggling over something that had happened during class.

"Let me in on the joke, won't you?" said Harry as he pulled a plate of roast beef toward him.

Hermione straightened up and tried to look serious. "It's really not funny. I know we shouldn't be laughing."

"But it was funny," began Ginny. "It's Malfoy," she whispered. They both turned to look over at Draco who was again seated at the end of the Hufflepuff table, toying with a plate of food uninterestedly.

"Draco tried to insult Bill during our dueling lesson. The great prat said he didn't think a banker would know much about curses, but perhaps he could show the class how to count Knuts," said Hermione.

"So Bill decided to let Draco have a go at him," explained Ginny, suppressing her giggles. "After they bowed to each other, Draco began firing off spells and Bill just stood there calmly, deflecting them. In fact, he turned to the class and began talking about the spells Draco was casting, as though it was part of the lesson."

"Yeah, Bill never broke a sweat," said Ron through a mouthful of food.

"Draco was getting really mad," said Hermione. "He actually tried the Cruciatus curse."

"Bill spun around and without saying anything, he turned Draco into... a camel," Ginny smirked. "It was unbelievable! Then he actually bowed to the camel, I mean Draco, and said Yes, Draco I work at the bank!"

"Everyone was laughing," said Hermione. "Of course, he changed Draco back," she said with a snicker.

Harry grinned at them and snuck a look at Draco too.

As pudding appeared, Harry noticed the Evening Prophet was distributed on all the tables. He had forgotten that tonight would be the first current events discussion. It appeared that Hermione had actually made some notes in preparation. Ron gave Harry a look that indicated he shouldn't get her started. Instead, Harry picked up a spare paper and glanced at the headlines: Bagman Responds to Criticism as Goblins Remain Neutral, Death Eaters Claim Responsibility for Destroying the Fortress at Azkaban, Giants Storm Village-Twenty Dead.

Harry didn't care if Bagman was in for criticism, and since the dementors had left Azkaban, he was not sure that the destruction of the prison was devastating news. Giants on the loose seemed a story worth discussing.

Dumbledore and the other teachers moved down to the house tables and took seats around the room as the plates magically disappeared from the tables. Then Dumbledore began the discussion by shaking open the newspaper and reading the headlines. Soon everyone was involved in excited debate.

Harry rather enjoyed listening to the conversation, although it was surprising how little some of the students knew about what was really going on. There were still some who didn't seem to understand that the Ministry was not doing a good job in trying to capture or control Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Zacharias Smith kept quoting his father on the subject and his father seemed to hold everything the Ministry did in very high esteem. Harry refrained from adding any comments of his own.

Ludo Bagman, the current Minister of Magic, was an odd sort Harry thought. Although he seemed harmless enough, he had cheated Fred and George out of gold and he had acted very funny toward Harry last term after the Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade. It did not inspire confidence to think he was in charge of the government. In all, the Ministry seemed to be doing a very poor job of coming up with solutions and was only reacting after a disaster had occurred.

It was just past nine when Dumbledore rose and called an end to the discussion. "I am pleased to see how enthusiastically you have all embraced this little experiment. As it has gone so well, we will definitely continue doing it. Now, off to your common rooms with you, and good night." With that, he extinguished many of the floating candles in the Great Hall and the students moved toward the doors, their dialogue carried on out into the hallway.

Dumbledore called to Harry, motioning him over as the remaining stragglers left the hall. He sat down heavily and motioned for Harry to do the same. "Harry, I had a talk with Conner and discovered that you and he have stumbled across a very ancient cure that may reverse the effects of a werewolf bite. I also know that Conner made a little... detour, the other night."

"Uhhh...Yes sir," said Harry. He decided to concentrate on the former comment about the cure, and not the latter. "We found it in the Department of Mysteries but Mac had to translate it all first. Now he thinks it may actually work."

"Yes, I understand that he consulted an expert in the field," remarked Dumbledore, his eyes fixed on Harry.

Harry did not meet the headmaster's eyes. It seemed he had put two and two together. Harry swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"I believe that I am right in suspecting that he did not make that visit alone," said Dumbledore, peering over his spectacles at Harry.

"Well sir, I didn't know where we were going...," Harry admitted. "I didn't know Snape was there...I mean here." Harry decided to ask his question even if it did get him in trouble. "How could you keep him here in the castle?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a minute before responding. "Harry, we felt that this was the safest place to keep him. We did not want Severus to be held by the Ministry where someone could get to him, but I never intended for you to see him again."

"I'm glad I did," said Harry defiantly. "It's good to know where your enemies are."

"Harry, I want your word that you will stay away from Severus Snape," said Dumbledore sternly.

"He betrayed all of us. How can you let him...?" Harry wanted to say live, but stopped himself.

Dumbledore's eyes were flashing. "Harry, I know you hate him, however, the Order may have a use for him. Sometimes one must set aside their own selfish interests for the greater good," said Dumbledore.

Harry could not help thinking this comment was rich. After all, he was setting aside his own safety and being groomed to kill the dark lord. How often did he have to make this kind of sacrifice? Dumbledore was looking at him, awaiting an answer. "All right!" said Harry, feeling exasperated.

"Thank you Harry," said Dumbledore in a tired voice. "I think it is for the best."

Saturday dawned, clear and bright. The prospect of the days Quidditch try-outs drove Snape from his mind temporarily. The resentment that Harry felt at Dumbledore's words from the previous night had been replaced by the excitement of doing some flying out in the fresh fall air.

Ron limped next to Harry as they headed for the Quidditch pitch and the Gryffindor team try-outs. It occurred to him that Ron's limp was much less noticeable these days, or else he was now used to it. Ron rarely complained of his leg anymore, though Harry knew it bothered him at times. He saw Ron rubbing it occasionally under a desk or when sitting in his bed. Today there would be no talk of sore legs though. Ron had a wild and gleeful glint in his eye that only Quidditch could put there.

The rest of the team was in the locker room when they arrived. Ginny and the others looked eager to get on their brooms. Colin had worn his Quidditch robes by mistake and was now changing back out of them. There was even a sign posted on the door warning students not to wear their team colors during practices for security reasons.

"Team!" said Ron loudly, as he entered the room. "Today we need to find two new beaters. We want players who fit with our team and who have the right potential. I don't know how many people will be here at the try-out but we'll test whoever has turned up. Let's not make it too hard on them today. Just be looking out for a diamond in the rough, because we're not likely to see any stars out there."

Ron's short pep talk had finished. Everyone smiled encouragingly, but they all knew they'd be lucky to have even two candidates trying out today. There were fair few Gryffindors to begin with, and fewer still that actually fancied the dangers of playing Quidditch on the house team. Everyone enjoyed watching from the stands but actually playing against another house team was a bit forbidding.

To their amazement, four people were waiting with their brooms in their hands as the team stepped out on to the field. The really surprising thing was that two of the hopefuls were not Gryffindors.

Ernie Macmillan was standing with his broom next to Dennis Creevey, who had tried out the previous year, and had been dreadful. Next to him was Geoffrey Hooper, a Gryffindor who was a bit small for his age, but Harry had heard he was a fine flyer. Then there was a second Hufflepuff, named Kevin Whitby. He had played on the old Hufflepuff team.

Ernie came forward immediately and shook hands with Ron. "I know I'm not in Gryffindor, but Hufflepuff has decided not to field a team this year owing to losing most of its players. I decided that in the interest of inter-house cooperation I'd try out," explained Ernie. "I don't know that I'm up to Gryffindor standards. You do field a really strong team, but I thought to myself, why not have a go?"

Ron looked a bit bewildered, and glanced over at Harry. Harry shrugged.

"Is that legal, Harry?" whispered Colin Creevey from behind him.

"I'm not sure Colin," said Harry, quietly. He guessed it didn't matter if they took people from other houses. After all, there was a limited pool of potential players.

Ron turned to glance around the stadium for some sort of clue as to what to do. Hermione was sitting in the stands wrapped in a cloak and munching some toast she'd brought down from breakfast. She seemed to understand the problem, for she stood up, climbed down the stands toward the lowest seats, and beckoned Ron over. Ron's brow furled and he strode over to where Hermione was waiting.

Harry watched as Hermione gestured and talked while Ron stood with his arms crossed and nodded, listening to her. Then he returned to the team. "Hermione says it's down in Hogwarts: a History, that inter-house teams were common up until around the seventeenth century, at which time...." Ron paused, and then said, "Anyway, she says its ok."

Harry suppressed a smirk. Ron turned and thanked Ernie and the rest for coming. Then he started the try-outs as though everything was perfectly normal. After an hour of watching the various hopefuls show their skill, Kevin Whitby and Geoffrey Hooper were selected. Ron had talked his decision over with the team before making the announcement. He was concerned that other Gryffindors would be upset that a Hufflepuff was being taken on.

"Ron," said Ginny, "Whitby was the best, although he wasn't very good. Let's face it; the others were dreadful. Since he's in Hufflepuff we'll have more people on our side during matches."

Ron smiled at this observation and went to tell Kevin and Geoffrey the news. Harry watched with Ginny and the rest of the team from the sidelines. Ernie and Dennis seemed to take the news well. Ernie made a show of shaking Ron's hand, and also the hands of Geoffrey and Kevin before heading off the field. As he passed the rest of the team, he said happily, "Rather glad I wasn't chosen. You lot fly too fast for my tastes. It looks much easier from the stands." He gave them all a thumbs-up and walked off.

The team practiced for another hour, then decided to head for the castle and lunch. The little house elves had stood guard the entire time, ranged around the top of the Quidditch stadium. They looked alert and tense, which was in contrast to their funny little hats and socks that marked them as part of Dobby's security forces.

Ron jabbed Harry during lunch, "Are we going to do our practice tonight?"

Harry nodded to him, "Let's do it about nine."

Harry and Ron had agreed to practice Harry's Elemental Magic spells together twice a week, and away from everyone else. They decided to try to find a place outside, as any problems, such as unexpected lightening, would seem more natural outdoors and not reverberating inside the castle walls. After inspecting several possible spots, they decided on the Astronomy Tower. At night, it was unlikely they would be spotted, and it was so high that any sound was unlikely to be heard.

Harry and Ron were experts at using the invisibility cloak and the castles various secret passageways to avoid being caught out of bed at night. After dinner on Saturday night, they waited for things to settle down and then left through the portrait hole.

The night air was crisp as they stepped out onto the flagstone ramparts. Harry closed the door and put a silencing charm on it just in case. At first, Harry was very reluctant to try the air spell, so they worked with water and fire. Harry noticed a curious thing as he tried to channel Ron's magic through him and into the fire or the water. He began to feel more of a sense of control. Previously, he had found controlling the spells to be quite difficult. With Ron however, Harry could feel magic flowing into him. He could slow it down or draw more from Ron. He could also control the magic he was feeding to the spell. A few times, he lost control and caused a large fireball to explode rather loudly, and he doused both of them when the water he was attempting to control decided to leap out of the bucket they were using, and come straight at them.

Ron gamely repeated his part as an extra magical source even though it made him very tired after about an hours practice.

"Blimey Harry," said Ron. "How can you stand it? You have to be sending out three times the magical energy that you're getting from me. How come it doesn't flatten you?"

"Fire, Earth and Water don't bother me much, but Air...," Harry said.

"Harry, you have to try me on the air spell, otherwise we may just be wasting our time," said Ron, as he collapsed against the crenulated wall of the tower.

"We will mate," said Harry. "Next time."

Harry and Ron had tried the air spell together during their next four practices. The first time, Ron was reduced to a jelly-legged heap, and nearly needed to be helped back to Gryffindor tower. Ron was determined, to make it work and insisted that Harry try again. So they had. The second attempt went much better, with Harry keeping the amount of magic he drew off Ron under control. He and Ron were elated and stepped up their practices.

As the weeks went by, Harry gained a measure of confidence and control over the Elemental spells that he had not previously felt. In fact, on the third week back at school, Professor Dumbledore commented on the fact that Harry was definitely gaining command of these spells, and he had looked very pleased.

Harry still had not told Dumbledore about linking to another wizard; he had not told anyone except his friends, who remained sworn to secrecy. Hermione, of course, maintained that information of this kind would help Dumbledore, but Harry no longer trusted that such information would remain safe in the hands of others.

What with Quidditch practice, and his secret practices with Ron, and the potions work he was doing with Mac, Harry was so busy that he was surprised to find that it was approaching Halloween.

Another effect of the busy routine that they had settled into was that Ginny and Harry had become a bit careless about the mark. As time passed, no sign of the mark had re-appeared. Harry was more than happy look at Ginny anytime, anywhere, but knowing how she felt about the mark, he had been careful to wait for her to ask him to check for it. The whole thing had turned into an excuse for finding spots to meet around the castle where they could be alone together for a little while, and on Dumbledore's orders to boot.

A week before Halloween and several weeks before the first Quidditch match, Harry arrived at the room of requirement, their meeting spot that evening. Harry was in a good mood, and eager to spend some time with Ginny. They had both been so busy the previous week that they had few opportunities to see each other, at least not alone.

When Harry entered the room, he found Ginny waiting for him. She was seated on a sofa by a fire and the lights were low. Harry joined her and they immediately fell to kissing. After ten minutes or so of this, Ginny surfaced. "Oh, bother," she said. "You need to check for the mark. Professor Dumbledore asked me today when the last time was that you'd looked. I lied and said yesterday. Do you think it's possible to lie to a Legilimens?"

Harry snorted with laughter, and then composed himself. "I really hate having to do this all the time, you know. Let's have a look then," Harry said in mock boredom.

Ginny gave him a rueful stare. "So you're willing to have a look? Not too busy, or anything?"

Harry grinned at her as she stood and turned her back to him, pulling her blue Weasley jumper up in back. Harry leaned closer, tugged down on the waistband of her jeans with one hand, and ran his fingers over the spot with his other. Nothing was there. Harry stood and said with a note of concern, "Ginny, I think I see something." Ginny spun to face him with fear quickly spreading over her features. "Yes," continued Harry. "I think you should take off that sweater so I can get a really good look at it," said Harry, his face cracking into a smile.

"You're evil!" she said, cottoning on. "And, Harry Potter, you know as well as I, that's not a good idea." However, she smiled at him, and wrapped her arms around him as they sunk back onto the sofa. A good bit of snogging was done over the next hour, and truth be told, Harry did manage to get her sweater off.

Harry held Ginny's hand as they walked back to Gryffindor tower. Perhaps having spent some quality time with Ginny would allow him a good night's sleep. He had been having dreams recently about the mark and Ginny. They were happening almost every night now. They were, he admitted to himself, not so much about the mark as they were about Ginny. The thought gave him a hot feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In Harry's dreams, Ginny would come to him breathless and worried, or in tears. She would be wearing a robe of some sort, and she would slide it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor when she would ask him to look at her back. The dream had variations. She was however, always very grateful when he told her there was no mark, and she would turn and would press against him. At this point, he generally woke up and would be unable to get out of bed until he settled down a bit, or risk a ribbing of some kind from Ron and Neville. After the embarrassment of the first time, Harry had been careful to linger under the covers a few minutes. At such times, he found concentrating hard on his Herbology homework seemed to help.

He willed his brain to jump from his dreams back to reality. He looked over at Ginny who was talking happily about a recent Transfiguration lesson. She didn't act worried about the mark so that anyone would know, but really the only thing they were doing was waiting around for the foul thing to come back. How long would Ginny be in this danger? Harry wondered if Mr. Weasley and his older sons were seeking Lucius Malfoy. It could be months, or even years before Harry or someone else laid hands on him and killed him, for surely he would have to die to lift the curse assuming Dumbledore was correct. Harry would love to be the one to do it.

The weather turned bad over the next week, with rain falling nearly ever day. It dampened the already dismal mood of the small group of students in the castle. The students spoke in whispers as they moved through the halls, making the castle seem unnaturally quiet.

Toward the end of a dull gray week, the trio sat in Transfiguration as hail beat upon the windows and the noise of it reverberated through the classroom making it hard to hear even a professor like McGonagall who always spoke clearly and loudly. As she was explaining for the fourth time how to transfigure a cat into a rabbit, Professor Dumbledore stuck his head inside the door and asked her to step into the hallway. He had a very tired and grave look on his face and McGonagall hurried toward the door telling them all to continue working. She was back a few minutes later.

McGonagall had a grim look on her face and she was muttering to herself. As she approached the front of the room, her mutterings got louder, until she slapped her wand down on her desk and turned to face the class. "There is no point waiting till this evening for you to read this news in the Prophet," she began. "Last evening there was a benefit for St. Mungos hospital. The event took place in London. Somehow, poison was introduced into the food and nearly everyone, save the musicians, were quickly overcome and died. The Ministry is reporting nearly fifty casualties, and is in a panic. They have are calling for any large wizard gathering to be cancelled while they attempt to apprehend the culprits."

Neville blurted out, "Who did it?" before he could stop himself.

"Death Eaters!" exclaimed McGonagall looking disgusted. "Nasty, cowardly thing to do!" she spat. "Poisoning is such a low, dirty...," she stopped and composed herself. "Yes, well, the long and the short of it is that the Ministry is now worried over the food safety at Hogwarts and wants to send an inspection team. They are demanding testing of all meals prior to service," McGonagall sniffed. "As though it were possible to contaminate food inside this castle; I mean, really!"

Hermione was sitting with her mouth open. Ron, however, continued to work on his cat. "Hope this doesn't throw the house elves off their cooking," he said.

Ministry officials were seen striding up to the school the next day. Dumbledore met them in the entrance hall. They looked bedraggled and rain soaked as they spoke to the headmaster. Harry could clearly hear the conversation, as could everyone else. They were silently watching the scene through the open door.

"Now see here, Dumbledore," a tall thin wizard was saying as he wrung out his hat on to the floor. "New Ministry guidelines have been announced. You wouldn't want your students poisoned."

"Gentlemen, I assure you I have taken the proper precautions," said Dumbledore mildly.

"Dumbledore," said the tall man pointedly, withdrawing a small vial from his cloak and holding it aloft. "This potion is the very one responsible for the deaths of forty-eight wizards and witches."

Dumbledore remained impassive. "If you do not accept my assurances that everything is under control, then please follow me into the Great Hall." Dumbledore turned and led them forward.

The Ministry man, looking huffy, followed him with his team trailing behind.

As soon as the man crossed the threshold of the room, a loud crack like a gunshot made everyone jump. The vial flew from the man's pocket and he was immediately surrounded by some very angry looking house elves.

The vial zoomed to a cabinet in the corner of the room that opened long enough to admit the small bottle and then closed with a slam.

Dumbledore turned to face the man. "My dear sir, I hope you see that a poisoning at Hogwarts is quite unlikely." The Ministry delegation seemed grudgingly satisfied and stalked out a few minutes later. Dumbledore leaned on the doorframe and rubbed his eyes as the front doors closed on them.

The headmaster was looking very pale these days. Harry recalled that in former times, even though his face was very lined, his eyes always shone brightly. He seemed quick-witted and he moved swiftly when the need struck him. Now Harry found that Dumbledore seemed more tired and care-worn, with a look of old age in his face that Harry had never noticed before.

"Well, after all, he's about one-hundred and fifty years old," said Ron authoritatively over their dinner.

Harry stole a glance at the head table. Dumbledore's chair was empty. He had not returned to eat after the encounter. He must have gone off to his office, thought Harry. Dumbledore's chair was empty more and more often of late. Harry didn't know if the headmaster was away from the castle at those times, or simply not up to coming down. He seemed to make a point to come on Friday nights for their current events discussion, though.

The other irksome thing was that Dumbledore was missing more and more of Harry's private lessons. If the Elemental spells were Harry's only or best hope in a fight with Voldemort, surely nothing was more important. However, more often than not, Mac took the lessons. Harry liked Mac a lot. Indeed Mac had become an adult that Harry relied on. He was brusque and didn't follow the rules, nor did he allow anyone to push him around. These were traits Harry could admire. Still Mac could not perform this type of magic and so his help and suggestions were pure guesswork. Harry was finding his secret practices with Ron to be much more productive.

Harry was now able to do two spells at one time, although it took a great deal of concentration on his part. It all centered around concentrating on both of them simultaneously in his head. As a result, he found he didn't need to say an incantation most of the time to make it work. In his classroom spell work he still said the incantations aloud. There was no reason to let on he didn't need to any longer. Like his secret practice sessions, Harry was beginning to see the value in not letting everyone know everything that he knew.

On a cold and windy Thursday, he and Dumbledore were having a lesson in the workroom. For a change, they were alone together. Mac had participated in most of the lessons thus far, but he was busy today. Dumbledore was having Harry attempt two Elemental spells at once. He was attempting to spin fire within the vortex of the storm he was able to conjure. It was an impressive sight, but quite difficult to maintain for more than a few seconds.

A clattering sound distracted Harry as he stood with his arms raised toward the ceiling while whirling fire and black clouds swirled over him. The sound caused Harry to look around. He saw Dumbledore bending to retrieve his own wand. As the old wizard bent down, he staggered, nearly collapsing on to the floor. Harry rushed forward, forgetting the firestorm over his head, and had to dodge a rain of burning embers as he ran to his headmaster's side. "Sir, are you alright?"

Dumbledore made a croaky noise and let out a breath as Harry assisted him into a chair. Dumbledore sat for a moment with his eyes closed and a shaky hand over his heart before opening his eyes. "I am fine Harry. It's merely old age, I fear. Someday, I hope you are able to enjoy the benefits and pains of old age. It is an exciting transition."

"But sir, shouldn't you go and lie down a bit?" asked Harry in concern.

"Thank you Harry for your thoughtfulness. Please continue; I will be fine."

That night Harry told Ron, Hermione and Ginny about the way Dumbledore had collapsed during their lesson.

"Do you think he's going to die?" asked Ron.

"Oh Ron," snapped Hermione, "of course he'll die someday."

Ron opened his mouth to fire back, but Ginny spoke first. "He is quite old and I suppose it's catching up with him. It's just sad to think that a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore might die. Think what that would mean. Who else does Voldemort fear besides Dumbledore?"

The common room cleared out slowly and the fire died back so that the room became quiet and shadowy. The others had all gone off to bed, leaving Harry alone with his Transfiguration textbook and his thoughts. Harry had been helping Bill on certain Fridays with the dueling classes. He had to admit he had enjoyed helping the other students improve their defense skills. At other times, he was helping Mac with the potion that was nearly ready. Soon they would have to make preparations for the ritual that might give Lupin back his life. His days, he realized, were packed with activity.

To Harry, it seemed that time was flying by. He had been feeling very restless lately and the castle, even though quite empty, still seemed oppressive. He felt as though Quidditch and lessons and potion making, and all of it, was somehow lulling him into a false sense of security; holding him back from what he really needed to do.

Halloween fell on Sunday. The decorations were somewhat subdued compared with other years. Hagrid had provided some very large pumpkins and there were the usual live bats swooping through the room, but there were no dancing skeletons or other entertainment. The feast however, was fabulous.

After the feast was done, Harry fancied a walk outside. Ginny said she needed to finish an essay for Potions and couldn't come. Hermione and Ron agreed to go along with him, even though they had ought to be in their common room. They slipped out the oak front doors while Filch was reprimanding two third years who had stuck everlasting suckers to the banister of the marble staircase.

The night air was crisp and cold. "We shouldn't be out here, you know Harry," said Hermione.

Harry ignored this comment. He needed air and space. "Do either of you feel as though we ought to be doing something else? Something to stop Voldemort?"

"What could we do?" asked Ron. "We're practicing your spell, aren't we? The Order is doing what they can, and we still have this year of school to finish."

Hermione agreed. "Soon, we'll be able to join them and really fight against him," she said.

"Do you think there will be anything left to fight for if we just wait for school to be over?" asked Harry. He could feel them looking at him in the darkness. Neither replied.

They walked around the grounds through the darkness for about an hour, talking quietly about the latest news in The Daily Prophet. As they crept back inside the castle through the front door, the entrance hall was dim and empty. They had not taken the invisibility cloak so they were on the look out for teachers, or worse, Filch. Ron pulled the door shut behind them and Harry glanced down the hall toward the classrooms as they headed toward the marble staircase. He thought he glimpsed something on the floor down the main corridor. He immediately shushed Ron and Hermione who had been whispering about their latest Transfiguration class.

He signaled them to stay with him and they moved toward what appeared to be a pile of rags in the darkened hallway. As Harry approached, he realized it was a body and it was lying partly in the hall and partly across the landing that led down to Snape's cell. Harry rushed forward, pulling his wand from the inside pocket of his robes.

"Lumos," he said and he moved the wand down to the form on the floor. It was Remus and he looked deathly pale and still. Harry crouched down, fear rising in his chest.

Hermione stood with her hands over her mouth. "Is he alright?" she asked in a shaking voice.

"He's breathing," said Harry bending low and putting a hand on Lupin's chest.

Hermione bent over him too. She looked very frightened. "Harry, he needs the hospital wing."

Harry looked at Ron, "Better go get Madam Pomfrey right way."

Ron nodded and turned to leave.

"Get Dumbledore too. The password to his office is Sugar Quill," said Harry.

Ron waved his concurrence as he sprinted for the stairs.

Hermione knelt next to Remus and put a hand on his forehead. Harry rose and climbed carefully over him, peering down the stairs. The torches had been put out and the stairway was black. He raised his wand and started down in the dark.

"Harry!" said Hermione in a scared and strangled voice.

"Stay with him, Hermione. I just need to check something," said Harry as he faced the gaping darkness. Snape was down there, or should be. As he moved downward, he realized he should light the torches. He waved his wand and thought instead of said, Incendio. The blaze of light showed nothing unusual until he reached the bottom of the stairs and the cells. Snape's cell door stood open. There were signs of a scuffle in the small side room, where the table was overturned and a candle lay on the floor, wax puddling around it.

Harry was sure that Snape's cell would be empty but he could not help but check. The dark cell was indeed deserted; the leg manacle blasted to bits. As he turned to go back up stairs to Remus, a strange glint from the floor caught Harry's eye. A rat lay upon the flagstones in the corner.

Harry moved toward it for a closer look. What he wondered, was causing the silvery glint? Harry poked at the rat with his wand. It had a shiny, silver paw. It did not stir and there was blood under it. Harry was sure it was dead...he was dead; for surely this was Peter Pettigrew. A noise overhead made Harry jump.

He climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached Hermione and Remus. "What was that noise?" asked Harry breathlessly. Remus was still lying, unconscious, with Hermione looking frightened.

"He cried out, and then he went all limp again. He's breathing, but only just," she said shakily.

A second later Ron rumbled down the stairs and ran toward them, breathing heavily. "Pomfrey is coming," he said. "Dumbledore too, but he asked me to come ahead so you two wouldn't be left down here alone," panted Ron.

Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore followed Ron's path in a few moments. Dumbledore looked frail and worried. He surveyed the situation as Madam Pomfrey, who was wrapped in a maroon dressing gown, knelt to check Remus. With brisk efficiency, she conjured a stretcher to move him to the hospital wing.

"Ms. Granger, will you go along and help Madam Pomfrey?" asked Dumbledore and Hermione nodded, following after the stretcher.

Dumbledore signaled to Harry and Ron to follow him as he started down the steps. "Sir, I already checked it out," said Harry. Then he proceeded to explain what he'd seen below. Dumbledore listened as they made their way to the room below.

When they reached Snape's cell Dumbledore looked closely at the dead rat. "Pity," he said. "Apparently Peter was, in the end, more rat than man."

"What do you think happened sir?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore gazed around, "I suspect that Lord Voldemort sent Pettigrew here as a rat, to set his faithful servant free. After that, I am afraid I cannot guess. We will have to wait to ask Remus what happened."

"But sir, don't you think Remus must have caught them and killed Pettigrew?" asked Ron.

"You are forgetting the overturned table in the other room, I think. There must have been a fight in there as well," said Dumbledore as he led them back to the center room. "I believe the only thing that is clear is that Severus Snape has escaped."