Harry Potter and the Headsman's Hostage

Chapter 2
Consternation

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
-----"The Raven," by Edgar Allan Poe

They all mounted their brooms again, and the two teams flew to opposite ends of the field. "Right," said Harry to Ron and Hermione. "When we get close, let's split up. Ron, you break left; Hermione, break right, and I'll go straight into them. You try to outflank them."

"Okay, Harry," Hermione replied nervously. Despite her ability at spells and potions, she hated flying and seldom went near a broom if she could help it. "Watch yourself."

Harry grinned at her. "Care to bet that I can't fly right between them without taking a single hit? Sirius and Lupin are good, but those brooms they're riding are obsolete."

"I'll put a Sickle on that," said Ron.

"So will I," Hermione agreed. "I think you might be getting just a bit overconfident, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "We'll soon find out." Sirius waved at them from the far end of the pitch; then he and Lupin leaned forward on their brooms and came racing up the field. Harry, Ron, and Hermione rushed to meet them. As the distance closed, Ron and Hermione split off to either side of Harry. Harry pulled into a tight corkscrew roll, making it nearly impossible for Sirius or Lupin to hit him as he accelerated toward them. When he was nearly on top of them, he shouted, "Protego!" Those green sparks that might have hit him bounced back at his opponents as he shot through the gap between them. However, just when he thought he'd made it through unscathed, he felt a warm, tingling sensation behind his left shoulder, and knew that at least one spark had found its mark.

He spun his broom around just in time to see Ron and Hermione complete their pincer movement, whipping around the stands and rocketing in from opposite sides of the pitch. Ron tagged Lupin on the right arm as he raised his wand to fire more sparks at Harry, and Hermione, coming up a moment later from the other direction, caught Sirius in the back of the head with a fountain of sparks as he turned to face Ron, so that his shaggy black hair appeared full of red fireflies. Ron then pulled back on his broom and soared into a spiraling, near-vertical climb, hotly pursued by Sirius, while Hermione dove for the ground, firing more sparks over her shoulder so that Lupin, following hard on her tail, had to dodge and weave like mad.

Harry shot upward after Sirius and Ron; his Firebolt's superior acceleration was especially obvious when flying straight up. As he overtook the Silver Arrow, he made two quick diagonal slashes with his wand, marking the back of Sirius's robes with a large, glowing red "X." As Sirius broke off his pursuit of Ron to confront the new threat, Harry flipped his broom over and dived like a falcon, hunting for Lupin and Hermione.

It didn't take long to spot them. Hermione was weaving in and out between the stands, trying to shake Lupin off; a scattering of Lupin's green sparks glowed on the back of her t-shirt, showing that she hadn't been entirely successful at dodging. Lupin, concentrating on the chase, did not notice Harry pulling out of his power dive just above and behind him until a flick of Harry's wand left him wearing a halo of red sparks. Then, with an instinct honed by many hours spent dodging Bludgers, Harry jinked sharply upward - just in time to see a spray of green sparks from Sirius pass under him and catch Lupin on the shoulder. "Nice move, Harry!" Sirius shouted, whipping around to chase after him.

"Catch me if you can!" Harry shouted back as he pulled into a vertical loop, trying to get behind Sirius. He had thought that nothing could ever match the sheer delight of Quidditch, but this aerial duel, testing his skills with both broomstick and wand, was as exhilarating as any match he'd ever played.

They kept at it, dodging and weaving, now soaring high above the goal posts, now skimming over the ground with their feet brushing the grass, whooping with laughter whenever one or another of them caught a spray of red or green sparks. It was nearly two hours before Sirius called a halt.

They landed by the blanket where they'd eaten lunch, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione began talking animatedly about the new game while Sirius and Lupin packed up the picnic hamper. "You were right about me getting a bit overconfident," Harry admitted after a few minutes spent recapping the highlights of their airborne scrimmage. "I guess I owe you each a Sickle. You'll have to wait until I've had a chance to visit my Gringotts vault, though, I don't have any wizard money on hand."

"That's all right, Harry, we know you're good for it," Ron assured him.

At that moment an owl came swooping out of the woods and dropped a letter on the ground at Lupin's feet. He stooped to pick it up. "It's from headquarters," he said, "Let's see," said Sirius. He had just finished untethering Buckbeak. The hippogriff had tucked his head under his wing and gone to sleep immediately after finishing his rabbit, and was just now waking up.

Lupin tore open the envelope, and the two men put their heads together to read the parchment inside. As they read, a series of expressions passed over their faces: shock, grim frowns, and finally bafflement.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "What's going on?"

"It doesn't make sense," replied Sirius, in a puzzled tone. "There've been over two dozen incidents all over the south of England in the last couple of hours - lone Muggles being scared silly by illusory monsters or hit with Stunning Spells, intruders testing the wards on various wizards' houses - all supporters of Dumbledore, of course - but nothing more serious. By the time anyone responds, the ones doing it are long gone. At least some of them are Death Eaters, because several of them have sent up the Dark Mark before Disapparating. But so far they haven't actually attacked anyone. What are they playing at?"

"Maybe they're probing," said Lupin. "Trying to see how quickly we respond and in what strength."

"That could be it," Sirius agreed. "Or maybe they want to draw some of us into an ambush, or just get us spread out all over the countryside so we won't be ready when they do something more serious. Do you suppose they could be planning to go after Harry?"

"Well," said Harry, "if they're expecting to find me in Privet Drive, they're in for a bit of a disappointment."

"And if they turn up here, they're in for a hell of a fight," said Sirius grimly. "Not that that's likely. This field is hidden by the Fidelius Charm; nobody can get in unless Dumbledore tells them where it is or makes them a Portkey."

"You know, they might be trying to make the Order look bad," Hermione suggested. "I mean, imagine what those idiots at the Ministry are going to think if a whole bunch of wizards who support Dumbledore make calls for help that end up looking like false alarms. Even if the Dark Mark is there, Fudge will probably blame our people for it."

"Like the little boy who cried 'wolf,'" Harry muttered.

"What, is that like a Muggle version of the little witch who cried 'troll?'" Ron asked, momentarily distracted.

Just then, another large bird swooped low overhead and dropped a small, rectangular package at Harry's feet. "Keep back, Harry!" Sirius said sharply. "That wasn't an owl, it was a raven - which means whoever sent it is almost certainly a Dark wizard." He approached the package cautiously and pointed his wand at it. After several muttered incantations had had no visible effect, he appeared satisfied. "It seems safe enough," he said, picking it up. "It's not cursed, and it's not an active Portkey, though it could be a timed one. Look, there's an envelope spellotaped to the outside. It's addressed to you."

Harry took the package from Sirius and opened the envelope; inside was a sheet of parchment, covered in a spidery scrawl.

Greetings, Harry Potter

I hope you have been enjoying your fifteenth birthday so far, as I expect it will be your last. I understand that you fancy yourself quite an accomplished duelist, since your miraculous survival against my Master, a wizard infinitely greater than yourself. If you feel your success was other than a fluke, I invite you to prove it: meet me in a duel of magic, and see how you fare when your wand is matched against one other than its twin.

Inside the package you hold in your hands, I have provided both the means for you to meet my challenge, and a compelling reason why you should do so. You see, I currently have a guest staying with me, a young lady who is most anxious to witness our duel. You will be fighting as her champion. Should you fail to appear, she will be most painfully disappointed.

Ron was reading over his shoulder. "Who could they mean? Hermione's here with us... oh no! Ginny!" Harry glanced at his friend and saw that he'd gone deathly pale under his freckles.

"It can't be," said Harry, with more conviction than he felt. "You told me she was with your parents at this mysterious headquarters of yours. They couldn't have just walked in there and taken her, could they?"

"I wouldn't think so, but... oh, go on Harry, open it!"

Harry tore off the wrapping with trembling fingers. Inside was a framed wizard photograph, about five inches by seven, of a girl tied to a chair. She was slumped forward, a curtain of hair obscuring her face - hair blacker than Harry's own, not Ginny's bright red. Relief fought confusion in Harry's mind as he stared at the picture, trying to figure out who the girl was. Her clothes - a plain black scoop-necked t-shirt and cut-off shorts - gave him no clues. Then she looked up, and he felt his blood run cold.

It was Cho Chang. Her cheeks were wet with tears, her dark eyes red and puffy from crying, but her face was unmistakable - the face that had smiled at him in his daydreams for more than a year. She had been in tears the last time he had seen her, too, grieving for Cedric. Now, though, her features were marred by something worse than grief: terror. Her eyes widened and she shook her head frantically as a black-gloved hand extended a wand into the picture from outside the frame. Then they widened further, and every muscle in her body seemed to tense at once. Her head jerked back and she strained against her bonds, her mouth opening in a silent scream of agony.

Harry's insides seemed to tie themselves in knots as he realized what spell the unseen kidnapper must have used. He vividly recalled his own agonizing experience of the Cruciatus Curse, when Lord Voldemort had used it to torture him before the assembled Death Eaters. "Cho..." he whispered brokenly. "Please, no, let this be a just a bad dream...." As he watched, the gloved hand moved out of the frame again, and Cho slumped back down in the chair, visibly trembling from the after-effects of the curse.

"Merlin's beard," whispered Sirius, looking over Harry's shoulder. "Do you know that girl, Harry?"

"Yes," he said. "She plays Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and she's - that is, she was - Cedric's girlfriend." He paused, then added, "I asked her to the Yule Ball, but Cedric had asked her first. I didn't think anyone knew outside of Hogwarts. How could this happen...?"

"We'll work that out later," said Sirius. "Right now we need to decide what to do about it. Take a look at the back of that picture, it looks like there's another envelope there."

Sirius was right; a second envelope was taped to the back of the picture frame. Inside was a second parchment, with the same cramped handwriting; the others crowded around to read it over Harry's shoulders.

This is but a small taste of what Miss Chang will suffer if you do not meet my challenge. The picture frame is a Portkey. Hold it in your hands at sunset, and it will carry you to me. If you wish her to live, you must come alone. Forfeit the duel and you forfeit her life - and her death will be neither quick nor painless. She will suffer the Cruciatus Curse until her mind is broken before I take her life.

I look forward to meeting you again, Harry Potter.

-----M.

"M?" Harry muttered, his voice thick with anger. "Pettigrew doesn't begin with an M, nor Wormtail... oh. Malfoy."

Ron nodded. "A Sickle gets you a Galleon that's who it is. Trust old Lucius to do his Master's bidding and give a little bonus to Draco at the same time. Cho was always the better Seeker."

"Damn," said Lupin. "This only gives us about four hours. I don't think that's going to be enough time to get reinforcements, what with our people scattered from Kent to Cornwall responding to all those probing attacks. Looks like you were right about the diversion, Sirius. We'd better get to work on this Portkey... I'll just need a few things from headquarters...." and with that, he Disapparated; there was a loud "BANG!" like a small clap of thunder as air rushed into the space where he had stood.

"What did he mean?" Harry asked.

"There's a way of finding out exactly where a Portkey is supposed to take you; it even works on our Untraceables, if you actually have the key in your hand. You'll see. Once we know where they are, we can work out what to do next."

Lupin Apparated again within a few minutes, carrying an enormous book bound in black leather, with "Mulciber's Magical Atlas of the World" embossed in gold on the cover. He had also changed from his old khaki suit into an even more disreputable set of wizard's robes, with numerous patches and extra pockets sewn into them. "Here we are," he said, setting the book on the blanket and opening it to a full-page map of the British Isles. "We'll start by assuming that they're still somewhere in Britain; if we can't find them here, we'll take a look at the Continent, then the rest of the world. Let me see that, please, Harry."

Harry handed him the photograph. He reached into a pocket of his robes and brought out what appeared to be a small quartz crystal suspended on a leather thong. After touching the crystal briefly to the frame, he wrapped the thong around his hand, holding the crystal over the map. "Locatus," he said, and opened his hand, letting the crystal swing freely above the map.

It hung there for a moment, swaying gently, then swung to point at western Scotland. Lupin lowered his hand until the tip of the crystal touched the map. "Argyllshire," he muttered. Instantly, the pages of the book flipped until it was on a more detailed map of the Scottish counties of Argyll and Bute. Once again, the crystal swayed over the center of the map, then moved to point, this time near its eastern edge. Now, however, instead of pointing firmly, it continued to move, spinning in small, tight circles even when Lupin lowered it to touch the map.

"Damn," he said again. "It's Unplottable. I can pin it down to a twenty mile circle northwest of Loch Lomond, but no closer than that. The one thing you can be sure of is it won't be exactly in the center of that circle."

"So we won't be able to Apparate," Sirius said. "We'd never find it in time. We'll just have to use their Portkey."

"But that would drop you right into whatever trap they've set for Harry!" Ron objected. "You wouldn't stand a chance!"

Sirius smiled slyly. "Not necessarily," he said. "When we were developing the Untraceable Portkeys, we discovered a couple of other jinxes you can use on them. It turns out you can displace a Portkey's endpoint - make it drop you as much as five miles from where it's supposed to. We worked on it until we were able to control the distance and direction fairly precisely. It shouldn't be a problem to make this Portkey take us a mile or so due west of where it was meant to."

The words were almost out of Harry's mouth: "But if I'm not where I'm supposed to be at sunset..." Remus and Sirius seemed to be treating all this as an exercise in strategy and tactics. But Cho's life was at stake!

"You can also displace them in time," added Lupin. "Trigger them earlier or later than they were meant to work. It might be a good idea to get there early," he suggested to Sirius, "wherever there is."

"Good thinking - hit them before they're ready. Now, Harry, I want you, Ron, and Hermione to use the other Untraceable Portkey to go back to headquarters. Wait for us there. If any of the Order show up, tell them what's going on and where we've gone. We're going to have a look around, and if it the odds don't look too bad, we'll try and rescue your friend. If it looks like more than we can handle, we'll Apparate back to headquarters and wait for reinforcements. We'll bring Buckbeak with us; he can be very useful in a fight."

"Hang on a minute--" Harry began, but Sirius cut him off.

"I know what you're about to say, Harry, and the answer is no. I'm sorry, but the whole point of their kidnapping Cho was to lure you into a trap; we are not going to give them what they want."

"I knew there wasn't any point arguing with you about that," Harry said, irritably. That had in fact been his intention, but he wasn't about to admit it. "What I was going to say was that you'd better take my invisibility cloak; it might help." He opened his trunk, dug around the inside for a minute, and pulled out the precious cloak, handing it to his godfather. The fabric looked and felt as though it had been woven from water, or perhaps quicksilver - it shimmered in the bright afternoon sunlight. Once it was put on, though, both cloak and wearer would vanish from sight.

"Good thinking, Harry," Sirius approved. "Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome. Good luck."

"Thanks again. Now stand back, we're going."

Reluctantly, Harry stood well back from Sirius, Lupin, and Buckbeak, with Ron and Hermione beside him. Sirius placed the picture frame on the hippogriff's broad back, just behind his wings, and the two older wizards each placed one hand on it. Then Sirius touched it with his wand and murmured a complicated incantation. Then he tapped it once and said, "Portus." Instead of vanishing, however, they continued to stand there.

"That's odd," said Sirius, sounding puzzled. "It should have activated immediately."

"Let me try," said Lupin. He tapped the frame with his wand and repeated, "Portus!" Again, nothing happened.

"Could they have made it tamper-proof somehow?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Sirius admitted. "Remus?"

"Let's see...." Lupin drew a parchment scroll from another pocket of his robes, unrolled it, and set it on the ground. It was blank. He set the picture frame on it, pointed his wand at it, and said, "Elucidate." A moment later, runes began to appear on the parchment, as if being written by a fast-moving quill. Lupin studied them for a while, then swore softly. "It won't activate for anyone but Harry," he said. "They must have incorporated something of his - hair, blood, something like that - into the frame. How on Earth could they have gotten their hands on it?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, and remembered the potion that had revived Voldemort. "Wormtail's dagger," he said. "It had my blood on it. They must have saved a bit, after I escaped."

Lupin nodded. "That would do it. All right, I suppose you'll have to come along - but as soon as we get there, you're going back, all right?"

"Hang on," said Ron. "You're not leaving us here alone."

"Now look--" Lupin started, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Ron's right," she said. "If Harry goes, we all go. You can send us all back if you like, but we're not going to just stand here and wait."

Lupin looked at Sirius, who shrugged. "Might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg," he said. "I don't think we'll get into any more trouble for bringing them all."

Lupin sighed. "I suppose not. All right, we all go."

"Just a moment, I've got an idea," Hermione said. She picked up the box with the Quidditch set.

"What's that for?" asked Ron.

"Remember Dobby's rogue Bludger? I got curious about how he made it chase after Harry like that, so I read up on the enchantments that make Quidditch balls fly. It turns out it's not all that difficult to tamper with them, if you can actually get your hands on them before the game. That's why the Hogwarts balls are kept under lock and key."

"That's all very interesting, Hermione, but what does it have to do with rescuing Cho?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"Sirius and Lupin might be able to use the Bludgers against the Death Eaters," she explained.

"Good thinking, Hermione!" Sirius said. "You might want your brooms, as well. As long as you're going, you might as well get close enough to see where they are. Then if you manage to pick up any reinforcements for us you can send them where they'll do some good."

"Right," said Harry, picking up his broom. Ron and Hermione got their brooms, and then all five of them crowded around the hippogriff, and they each pressed one finger against the picture frame. "Everyone ready?" asked Sirius. They nodded, and he once more tapped the frame with his wand. "Portus!"

This time it worked. Harry felt the familiar jerking sensation behind his navel, and the Wortlethorpe Quidditch pitch dissolved in a vortex of colored light and howling wind.