A Debt Repaid

Chapter Six

The Order was reassembled. They heard the news from Snape who leaned against a chair, all semblance of stiff formality gone. He was pale and sickly in appearance

The roar of voices drowned out his voice.

"Stop! Everyone quiet down." Arthur Weasley stood and moved to Snape's side immediately. "Take a chair Severus."

Snape actually dropped heavily in the chair at Arthur's request. He stared at the group with vacant eyes.

"Now tell us what happened?" Arthur said, gently.

Snape frowned at him like he would a child in one of his Potion's classes. "The Knight bus was attacked."

"Yes, yes, Severus, we know that." Arthur gestured over to another person. "Get him some brandy, he's in shock."

A glass was slipped into Snape's hand and he stared at it, confused.

"Drink it, Severus," Arthur ordered.

"I'm fine," Snape said, in a dead hollow tone, but drank the brandy. He took a minute and then stood. "I'm fine. The bus was attacked by... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters." The crowd broke into whispering and then stopped at the dull, ugly look on Snape's face. "McGonagal was hurt, but she immediately apparated to Gimmauld Place. She is at St. Mungo's now." Snape stood straighter and sat his glass on a table. "The rest are gone, taken."

"Dumbledore?" someone asked.

"Harry!" Although forbidden to speak during meetings, Ron gasped out the word. Hermione was behind him, an arm wrapped protectively around his chest.

Snape looked up, "Silence!" The sound was a ghostly echo of his normal virulent speech.

"We cannot examine the site until we are sure that it is safe. Steps have been taken to guard it from muggle eyes, but there is nothing to say that He will not return."

"We don't know if they're alive?" Mrs. Weasley asked weakly.

"We know nothing more then what I have already stated," Snape said. "Minerva apparated and was not able to tell what happened."

Elphius Dodge stood, "I would like to volunteer to go to the site and examine it." Another member of the Order stood, Emmeline Vance. The two of them had been part of a group that had rescued Harry from the Dursleys at one time.

Other people began to stand. "I'll go."

"I'll go and see Minerva," Mrs. Weasley said and took her cloak.

"I will as well," said another.

"Where's Lupin?" Someone asked.

Arthur Weasley answered for Snape, "He was on the receiving end. He's at Hogsmeade and should be here shortly."

At that, the door burst open and Lupin hurried forward into the room. "What news do we have?"

"McGonagal's injured but alive, the rest have been taken," Arthur said.

Lupin paled and sat down. He stared at Arthur and then looked over at Snape, "How could this be?"

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Harry woke. He could feel hands on him, lifting him, carrying him. He was tired, very tired; and he hurt. A familiar voice broke through the fever.

"We will take thee to thy family. Thee is safe." The voice sounded so good to his ears.

"Yes." Harry did not feel his fingers as they were pried off of Dumbledore's arm.

Later, he felt someone pouring something into his mouth and a cool rush spreading over his limbs as the liquid eased his fever. He saw lights and the inside of a wagon. He thought he could hear Jolie.

"We've got you home, Chavo(son)." The voice said. "Sleep now."

"Dumbledore," he managed before he fell asleep.

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Snape and Lupin sat in kitchen chairs at No.12 Gimmauld place. They were staring at each other, speechless. The night had been long and it was nearing morning. No one had reported back yet. Two members had apparated to the site of the crash and Mrs. Weasley and Tonks had apparated to St. Mungo's Hospital. The other members of the Order of the Phoenix spent the remainder of the meeting developing a means to report to each other that didn't involve the Floo Network, Owl post or other detectable sources.

Lupin sipped at the brandy in his glass. He had been drinking for several hours. Snape was hollow-eyed and bluish. He had switched to fire-whiskey the moment they arrived. Neither appeared to be drunk.

"How do you suppose?" Lupin said.

Snape shook his head. They were the only ones that knew the details of the plan to transfer Dumbledore to Hogwarts. "It wasn't me..." he looked up and into Lupin's eyes, "and I know it wasn't you."

Lupin bowed his head in acknowledgement of the trust Severus had in him. "Yes, I believe the same of you, Severus. It's a shame we can't be friends, you've turned out to be quite a respectable fellow." He suddenly found himself snorting. "Sorry old Chap, I think I've had too much brandy."

Snape nodded. He pushed his glass to the center of the table a little too stiffly. "Yes. Or perhaps we haven't had enough or maybe there isn't enough," his voice was soft, "in the whole world."

Lupin's eyebrows went up." Now, I know you've had enough." He pushed his own glass away, turned in his chair and studied the wall.

"You've always been...fair, Lupin" Snape placed his hands on the table. "Not like the others. And I must apologize..."

Lupin snorted again, "Please, Severus..." Lupin knew he spoke of James Potter and Sirius Black. "It's just a shame I'm a werewolf, is that it Severus?"

Snape cleared his throat and remained silent.

"We have to solve this Severus." Lupin said. Snape looked up. "No, not that! I don't care if you don't like me because I'm a werewolf. I can't help what I am. We have to find out how our plan failed."

Snape studied the table." It ha...ad to be someone in this house. Someone that overheard us talking."

Time went by as they sat in silence. Lupin picked up his brandy and Snape unconsciously mimicked the move by picking up his whiskey

Lupin dropped his half-full glass, "Kreacher!"

The two stared at each other with horror in their eyes and were up, and out of their chairs at the same moment. They raced down two flights of dank, dark musty stairs, filled with cobwebs until they reached a cellar. The walls were grimy with dirt. They reached a fork in the dark hallway, their wands shining brightly on the walls.

"You look that way, I'll take this one." Snape was suddenly full of energy. "Don't kill him unless I'm there."

"The same goes for me," Lupin shouted over his shoulder.

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Harry could smell a fresh breeze blowing on his face. The bed was soft and he was comfortable. He kept his eyes closed taking in the smell of the polished wood, the horse dung and the sounds of children laughing. He heard voices of men and women in everyday conversation. He heard the door open. The wagon sagged as the person stepped up.

"Will you sleep all day or wake?" Jolie's voice grumbled.

Harry smiled, his eyes remained closed, "I'm hungry, old man." He spoke in Romani.

"Ah, he speaks," Jolie sat down and Harry could feel a hand placed on the bed. "Good."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at he man, "Where's Dumbledore?"

Jolie patted the blanket, "He is well and not harmed. The elf, his name is Vallow, he says Dumbledore has cocooned himself." Jolie shrugged. "It is a magic that we don't know, but is useful I think."

"What does that mean, Jolie?" Harry asked.

"He won't wake until he is ready," Jolie said. "You thought to take him home?"

Harry nodded.

"He will wake there. Don't worry."

"Where are we?" Harry asked and reached for his glasses. Then stopped abruptly as he felt a sharp pain stabbing his side.

"You should not move, young one." Jolie stood and held him down by the shoulders. "You have been hurt badly and need to heal. We are with Gregor's people."

"Nadya?" Harry groaned.

"We will meet up with them in a few days." Jolie patted his hand. "She knows that you're alive."

"We need to contact..." Harry began.

"It is done." Jolie turned to leave. "We have sent word to the Old Crow, Snape. Now rest and I will bring you food. The best food! And while you eat I will play my fiddle." The little man was out the door and singing at full strength in a full baritone.

Harry smiled and closed his eyes again.

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Reports began to flood into Gimmauld place. They had found blood on the ground at the crash site. There was a trail where something was dragged or crawled. The inside of the Knight bus was bloody. The driver was found dead, wedged between the bus and the ground. Each new report made Lupin cringe in his chair and chew on his lip. Snape was agitated and pacing the room like a caged animal. Neither had slept.

Mrs. Weasley sat in front of them, "Minerva, doesn't know anything. She apparated too quickly. Which was a very good thing or I think she would have been taken as well."

"Molly," Lupin began, his eyes beseeching her to give them more. "She was with Dumbledore, right beside him."

"Yes. She said she even had a grip on him before the bus turned over. They were torn apart by the impact." Mrs. Weasley frowned. She looked up startled when Snape growled. He was still pacing.

A knock came to the door.

"WHO THE BLOODY HELL IS IT!" Snape roared.

Mrs. Weasley jumped and Lupin's eyebrows went up. Hermione opened the door and walked in. She had a bird sitting on her shoulder. It was a black raven.

"Professor," she said calmly, "this is Harry's bird, Dante. He's brought a message." She'd untied it and handed it to Snape.

Snape unrolled it, read it quickly and threw it to the floor, "Dumbledore and Mr. Potter are alive." He left them, their eyes following his back.

Lupin picked up the parchment and read it aloud, "Tell the Old Crow, three hearts beat as one."

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Harry was laying in bed when the door opened and a black-haired head entered. The man was dressed in a black traveling cloak, covering Romani clothes.

"Hello, Professor." Harry watched him as he straightened and bumped his head on the low ceiling.

Snape moved to his side. "Hello, Mr. Potter." He pulled off his cloak and sat down beside the bed. He gently pulled the blanket down and pulled aside Harry's bed shirt.

Harry turned his head away and groaned, feebly.

Snape looked at the wound and frowned, "We need to get you to hospital, Potter."

"No," Harry pushed his hands away. "Leave me be, I'm with my people."

Snape's eyes narrowed his voice was silky, "Yes, you are. And they have saved you. But you need to have this healed by an expert."

"I said 'no', Snape." Harry's jaws tightened in pain.

"Very well," Snape took out his wand and pointed at the wound, "I can't say that I'm the best one, but..."

The light from the wand played over his belly and Harry felt a tugging. In minutes, the pain had disappeared and he could breath and move without pain. Snape examined the long gash on his leg and then the scalp wound on his head. His fingers probed very gently and Harry gritted his teeth to avoid showing any pain. Snape once again touched the wand to the wounds. Snape then tucked his wand away and produced a vial of fluid, "Drink this."

Harry swallowed the potion and began to feel stronger. "Thank you."

Snape nodded.

"How is Albus?" Harry asked.

"He is the same," Snape answered.

"Jolie says one of the Wood Glen elves told him that Albus had cocooned himself. He seems to think he'll revive when he returns to Hogwarts," Harry said. He slowly raised himself on his elbows and Snape reached over quickly, helping him to sit.

"Yes, that's probably true," Snape returned to his seat. "I will talk to Mr. Pulani about transporting him there."

Harry sat looking at the man. A transformation had taken place. He never expected the man to treat him so gently. But then he'd never saved Dumbledore before.

"Tell me how this happened?" Harry said, starting to swing his legs from the bed.

"Stay!" Snape snapped and then raised a hand, "You're not quite ready to get up, Mr. Potter."

Harry laid back thankfully on the pillow and waited.

""The other is not important at the moment," Snape said. When Harry continued to gaze at him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "McGonagal was injured but is healing rapidly. She is at St. Mungo's. We have no news yet of Moody and Shacklebolt. The driver was killed in the accident and there is no news of the other boy."

Harry told him what he had seen after the crash and how he and Dumbledore had escaped detection. Snape listened intently.

"We have to presume they've been taken," Snape acknowledged. "I want to return Albus to Hogwarts and then I can proceed."

"Professor, have you found out who informed on us?" Harry asked, resting against his pillow.

"Rest for the night, Potter," Snape rose quickly and bent his head to go out the door. "We'll talk more in the morning."

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Harry walked around camp for several days and felt fully recovered by the time Nadya's wagon rolled into camp. He was ecstatic with joy. They spent the day together walking in the woods. Snape remained in the camp and stayed by himself, joining Jolie and Gregor for talks in the late evening.

Harry sent Dante with several messages over the days and each day they moved closer to Hogwarts. At the end of July, in the evening, Dante returned. He carried a parchment and landed in front of Harry

"Mail deliver," he croaked.

Harry sat next to Nadya. "Well? You know what to do, Dante. Bring the letter to me."

The raven walked up and extended its' leg. He croaked, "Birthday boy, Birthday boy." He said it in English, the only thing Harry had ever heard him say in English. And then with one flap of his immense wings he took off, skimming over Harry's head and ruffling his hair.

Harry laughed and translated for Nadya. He opened the scroll and read the message from Hermione:

Dearest friend,

We are well, and in France. I never doubted for a minute that you had gotten home safely. I realize you are probably keen on having ALL your friends about you on your birthday, but I insist that you rest and let others take care of it. I don't want to have say, I told you so.' ever again. We send our love. We can't be there to celebrate with you. I have a present for you, but it must wait until we see you in the Fall. You're always in our thoughts, Love H and R

The letter was in Hermione's precise hand with a small squiggle indicating Ron had read it and signed. It was good to know that they were safe and knew everything was all right with him. He understood what Hermione was telling him about all of his friends. She had learned about Moody and Shacklebolt. She was also warning him about being a 'rescuer'. Hermione had been the one who tried to warn him that Voldemort was going to trap him by using Sirius and not heeding her warning had resulted in Sirius' death.

Harry knew the priority right now was Dumbledore. That very night they would join other Gypsies families and roll through Hogsmeade to the Fair grounds and tents set up on the outskirts of the village.

Under the cover of putting on a Fair, Dumbledore would be transported to the Shrieking Shack where Snape could ferry him through the hidden tunnel to the safety of Hogwarts grounds.

Harry had faked his own death; a page he had taken from the traitor who had betrayed his parents, Peter Pettigrew, and did it by disguising himself as one of the Romani entertainers. He was a stilt walker.

He wore a harness made of bent and polished wood that was shaped in the body of a bird. A saddle that strapped to his waist made it look like he was riding a real bird. His own costume resembled that of an exotic medieval warrior, fashioned of red leather and bronze. His face was covered in greasepaint and a feathered mask. The whole costume was set off with bird feathers and a plumage that draped to the ground.

Each walker then mounted their stilts, and with reins attached to the birds moveable head they strolled the Fair grounds in pairs of twos or threes. For their performance, the crowd would toss them money, which they caught and pocketed. Harry had become very good at the performance and caught the gold galleons as he had often caught the Quidditch Golden Snitch.

Other members of the Kumpania entertained by playing music on their fiddles, guitars and tambourines. There were sword-swallowers, dancing bears, trapeze artists and most particularly acrobats that rode on the backs of horse and did stunts. Many of the women of the tribe, including Harry's wife Nadya dukkered (fortune-telling) in the colorful tents that sat around the arena. They were known throughout the land as some of the best Seers and fortune-tellers among the witches.

In the early evening the gilded, ornate vardos (wagons), drawn by horses that were dressed in richly colored harnesses, paraded through the cobbled street of Hogsmeade. A large crowd had already formed and were waving and cheering as the white-faced acrobats walked alongside the wagon and did stunts. Musicians played their fiddles and encouraged the crowds to follow along to the fairgrounds.

Harry was already in one of the tents pitched at the grounds preparing for his evening performance. He found that being six feet in the air on stilts was a perfect means of keeping watch on the crowd. If someone wanted to hurt Dumbledore, he was in a position to see them.

Luciano stood next to him in front of a table with a bank of lights and helped him apply his costume. He was their usual dresser. Harry waited for Gregor, his friend and fellow stilt-walker. Nadya was also in the tent with her mother Katlana.

"Luciano, where is Gregor?" Harry asked.

"He is with that Old Crow," Luciano wrinkled his nose. "They are always talking, those two."

"Nadya," Harry reached back for her hand, "will you fetch him for me."

"Va, mi dehiba (yes, my love)," she said smiling at him. She was already dressed in her scarf and earrings with the white blouse that slipped over her brown shoulders. She wore a long skirt that touched the dirt and her feet were bare. "Ah, he is here!" she said as the gray-haired older man slipped through the tent flap. He was already dressed in his silk trousers and shirt that he wore underneath the harness. He was a blue bird with lavender shadings. Harry liked to call him a 'peacock' because he most resembled the bird.

"Gregor, what's kept you," Harry asked standing to slip on his own silk trousers and shirt.

"Ah, just finishing up with the plans," he shrugged. "Everything is ready."

Harry knew that Gregor would be helping to get Dumbledore to the Shrieking Shack. Harry had not been told the rest of their plans.

"Tommy," Gregor used Harry alias, "before you put on your harness there is something we need to talk about. Come with me." He put his arms round Harry's shoulders and led him out of the tent towards another.

"What is it Gregor, is everything alright?" Harry was concerned. The grounds were empty and quiet. The crowds had not yet arrived for the evening performances. Some of the Romani were scurrying around getting horses combed and decorated, some were busy lighting lanterns and other small tasks.

Gregor walked him down the stretch of clean plowed field to a tent at the end. The walk reminded Harry of one he had taken the summer before; the one in which he had presumably been killed by Voldemort.

"What is it , Gregor?" Harry asked.

They entered a tent and someone said, LUMOS. Standing in front of him were about twenty people. Hermione and Ron stood in the front. It appeared that every one of the members of Harry's old Defense Association stood behind them. Two years before, Harry had taught friends and other students in a secret class so that they could learn to defend themselves. It was the means by which Dumbledore had almost been sent to Azkaban and Harry had almost been expelled.

They now stood in front of him. "Harry you really didn't think that we would run off to France and let you have all the fun did you?" Ron said blushing.

"We're the escort. We're here to make sure Dumbledore gets home." Hermione smiled mischievously at him.

"Hello, Harry!" People rushed at him and he was surrounded by arms hugging him. He even got a tear-washed hug from an old girlfriend, Cho Chang. Up until that time he had been effectively disguised and everyone except Ron and Hermione had thought he was just a new student at school. Now they all knew who he was.

"But...but," Harry protested as Dean Thomas shook his hand and Fred and George Weasley pounded his back.

"Harry," Neville Longbottom stood at his shoulder, "we're Dumbledore's army."

A figure emerged from the shadows of the tent. It was Snape. Harry looked at him in amazement. "You trained them Potter. You are now their leader. Shall we get Dumbledore home?" His eyebrows went up and Harry could swear he saw a smile playing around the mouth.

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That night Harry walked the Fairgrounds with Gregor, stopping to raise the head of his bird, pose and then catch the money that the teaming crowds below threw him. He watched with satisfaction as members of the D.A. patrolled the edges of the crowd, intermingling. As the small cart that carried the person of Dumbledore made its way up the street to the Shrieking Shack, a dozen watchful friendly eyes followed.