Worth a Thousand Words

The next few days were abuzz with the usual pre-Halloween excitement, and finally the night of the feast arrived.

Tom scooped another serving of beans on his plate and glared halfheartedly in the direction of the Gryffindor table. The Great Hall was decked out in full Halloween glory, and the feast was well underway... but Tom really wished the boa had stayed to keep him company rather than going off to cadge rolls from Harry. After all, Harry had several friends in his own House. Tom was stuck listening to Malfoy's latest exaggerated tale of his own exploits, punctuated by sniggers from Crabbe and Goyle, or on his other side Marcus Flint discussing with Derrick and Bole, the Slytherin Beaters, how best to knock someone off their broom.

Suddenly there was a commotion by the doors, and a stout wizard wearing a pinstriped suit under a purple cape strode determinedly toward the staff table. "What's Cornelius Fudge doing here?" Malfoy asked dumbfoundedly, and then, catching Tom's look of confusion, sneered and added "The Minister of Magic, Riddle. Try to keep up."

Tom rolled his eyes -- but Malfoy had a point; what was the Minister of Magic doing at Hogwarts' Halloween feast?

He overheard a comment from an apparently oblivious Gryffindor -- Longbottom, maybe? -- about how "Well, it might be worse if he'd brought an actual lion!" before the Hall fell silent and he caught Harry's quick hiss to the boa to stay put under the table. Fudge gave no sign of having noticed either the discussion, the hiss, or the fact that most of the Gryffindor table (despite being overall unexpectedly enthusiastic about feeding the boa once they got used to the idea -- no wonder he was staying over there) had their feet tucked up slightly. He reached Dumbledore and spoke quietly to him for a moment, then turned and faced the rest of the Great Hall.

"I regret to have to announce that Sirius Black has escaped Azkaban."

Pandemonium ensued. Tom was slightly nonplussed -- he had thought Professor Caerlune had told him his first year that Azkaban was impossible to escape, but... Malfoy's sharp laugh cut through his rumination. "Well, that'll be the last of Potter, then." He caught Tom's eye and sneered. "You as well, Riddle, with any luck."

Tom couldn't reply at once; Fudge, after calling ineffectually for quiet, had turned in appeal to Dumbledore. The Headmaster produced his wand and a thunderclap sounded throughout the Great Hall; everyone was startled into silence as Dumbledore cleared his throat and then gestured again to Fudge.

"Let me assure you that all possible precautions are being taken. Both magical and Muggle authorities have of course been alerted, and for your especial protection a guard of Dementors has been dispatched to Hogwarts...."

Here he was interrupted again as Dumbledore, frowning, rose to tap him on the shoulder. There was a brief conversation; Dumbledore's expression steadily darkened and his gestures grew more emphatic, but Fudge remained apparently unmoved, and Dumbledore finally sat down, still frowning. "Er... as I say," Fudge continued, "Dementors will be patrolling outside the grounds. We are certain we will recapture the, er, recapture Black as soon as possible. You need not fear for your safety."

*Yes, except for Dementors patrolling the grounds,* Tom thought. As Fudge sat down at the staff table, presumably to finalize arrangements with Dumbledore, Tom turned to Malfoy. "What d'you mean, this'll be the last of Harry and me?"

"Oh, you haven't heard of Black, have you?" Malfoy smiled and waved his fork, then pointed it straight at Tom. "Sirius Black. The Dark Lord's right-hand-man, at least so some say, and he was the one who led him to the Potters in the first place. Then blew up an entire street when little Pettigrew went after him --that was a bumbling friend of theirs, I heard, and such a Gryffindor he went off for vengeance anyway -- killed thirteen people with the one curse. He'll have come back looking for Potter now, of course--likely you too, after the way this year started. Perhaps you're the real reason." Malfoy shrugged and deftly lifted the head off a dancing skeleton made of bread. "I'm certain everyone will say it's all about Potter, naturally. Not that I'd be surprised at that either."

Tom looked over at the Gryffindor table. Harry didn't seem too worried; he was sneaking the boa another morsel under the table. But maybe Harry didn't know. By all accounts he'd grown up thinking his parents had died in a car accident, after all. He drew in breath to hiss a question across the common room, and then froze. Harry was in Gryffindor. And he'd gone after Voldemort quick enough -- twice. He'd hunt his parents' betrayer with the same foolhardy bravery he'd shown against their killer -- and maybe Tom was new to the idea of having friends, but sending one's friends off to face somebody who killed thirteen people at a time... didn't seem like the thing to do. At least without asking Ginny, who'd known Harry longer and knew the history better than he did.

He spent the rest of the feast in a rather brooding silence.

*****

After their last class the next day, Harry pulled Ron and Hermione aside. "Look, I was thinking," he began. Hermione looked strangely agitated by this statement; he cast her a puzzled look and went on. "Hagrid looked awfully upset about the Dementors being here -- I know he said Azkaban was horrid. It's early enough yet that we could go down to visit him before dinner...."

Ron grinned. "Better than writing all that Divination homework. What about you, Hermione?"

"Well -- we do have to get that done -- but Harry's quite right; if Azkaban was dreadful for him he can't possibly be happy about the Dementors, even if they are here to protect us."

"I don't quite like that, really," Ron said dubiously. "Did you see how Dumbledore looked when Fudge announced them?"

"He didn't even look that mad when Malfoy's dad came to suspend him last year," Harry said. "And Professor McGonagall kept looking at me last night when she announced the curfews, I thought."

"Well, we've got a bit of a reputation, haven't we?" Ron pointed out reasonably.

Hermione bit her lip. "That's not all of it...."

Harry grinned. "What, Black's in Hogwarts: A History? Tell me while we head down to Hagrid's, all right? There's not that much time before dinner."

They stepped out into the crisp air with Hermione seeming to be on the verge of wringing her hands. "He isn't in Hogwarts: A History. But I did go to the library and do some research on him. He was convicted for killing thirteen people with one curse... but before that... well, it's said he was You-Know-Who's most trusted associate. So... so everyone thinks he's after you, Harry."

Harry gulped, but kept moving. "Well, Voldemort's dealt with, anyway -- Thirteen people?"

"Yes. And... oh, Harry, he led him to your parents."

This stopped Harry dead. "He did what?"

Hermione looked at him with huge eyes. "There's a special spell, the Fidelius Charm, for people who need to go into hiding. But it depends on one very trusted person keeping the secret... and he... he didn't."

"He betrayed my parents." Harry's fists were clenched at his sides. "They trusted him, and he sold them."

"The dirty --" Ron began furiously. Then he looked at Harry. "Harry, you can't go after him."

"I'd like to know why not," Harry said dangerously. "I did for his stinking master, didn't I?"

"Harry, please!" Hermione turned and grabbed him by the shoulders. "You really can't. That's exactly why people think he'll come for you! Well -- that and your parents, but --" She stopped dead as a sudden chill hit them, and though for once the sky was clear it seemed that a cloud passed over the sun.

Harry blinked furiously as it just kept getting darker -- in midafternoon, he thought indignantly... but then he was feeling too cold and miserable to worry about the time of day, and screaming began in his ears....

"Harry!" He swam back up to consciousness, and Ron's worried face inches from his own, with a violent shake -- Ron grabbing him by the shoulders, he thought. Hermione, pale and frightened, peered over Ron's shoulder -- and a dark, cloaked shape drifted out of sight along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"What was -- agh, Ron, get off. What was that?" He shivered. "Did you hear the -- screaming?"

"I didn't hear any screaming," Ron said dubiously, "but that was a Dementor." He shuddered. "Look, those are what's after Black now. Do you really think you need to join in? I just want them to get him and get back to Azkaban, never mind any interruptions."

"Ron, he -- he betrayed my parents. I --" Harry blinked away tears. "I can't just do nothing."

"Do you know how to do worse to him than them?" Hermione asked practically. "And if you did, would you want to... to be someone who did that?" She eyed him fretfully. "Harry, are you all right? You turned so pale -- your lips turned blue -- and you just started to slide down...."

"I don't -- I think I am, but... everything kind of went dark, and there was screaming... it sounded familiar, but I haven't -- I don't know when I heard it. Neither of you heard it? It was horrible."

Ron traded worried glances with Hermione. "Look, mate, I think we need to get you up to the hospital wing." He paused, then added hastily. "I believe you about the screaming, really I do, just -- you really gave us a scare."

"But we haven't visited Hagrid."

"He'd want you to go to the hospital wing after this," Hermione declared firmly.

"Look, I really feel fine --"

Ron snorted. "You're still all grey. Come on, Hermione, get his other arm."

Hermione nodded, and between them they started propelling Harry back toward the castle.

"If he's after me for getting rid of Voldemort," Harry said after a few moments, "then if he's heard about this year, he'll probably be after Tom as well. Do you think that could have been what made him try to escape? If he got news of Tom somehow? I mean, I've been here over two years now; I'm nothing new...."

"Yeah, maybe." Ron frowned. "I'll tell Ginny she ought to be careful. And to warn him if he hasn't already found out. After we see if you're all right."

"I am!" He still felt cold and shaky, but he could walk; he should be fine.... Ron and Hermione, however, were clearly having none of this. "All right, all right, I'm coming. But yes... warn them to look out...."

They arrived at the hospital wing shortly, where Madam Pomfrey took one look at Harry and sighed. "Dementor, I suppose? I've had two other close brushes already. Sit over there, dears -- I suppose you two were with him? You should all have some chocolate." She cut generous chunks for each of them and shooed them onto a couch. "Sit there and eat your chocolate, and once it's all gone I'll have another look. Dementors in a school, honestly...." She bustled off into another room.

Harry leaned back on the couch, feeling more drained than he wanted to admit, and nibbled at the chocolate. He wasn't sure what good it was supposed to do, but there didn't seem any point in turning it down... and it turned out, to his surprise, to banish the icy feeling very nicely.

It just didn't get rid of the memory of the screaming.

*****

Even though he was at their regular table in the library, and expecting her to show up for a study session, Tom didn't see Ginny approach at first. He was flipping through The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts halfheartedly, hoping that if Black were in here, and Harry finally gave in to Hermione badgering him to read the thing, Tom wouldn't have to break the news to him.

"Tom? Tom, are you --" Ginny rolled her eyes and plucked the book out of his hands. "Honestly, you're as bad as Hermione -- what are you reading, anyway?" She glanced down at the page. "Oh. Sorry."

"No, it's not -- look, sit down, I have to ask you something." He twiddled his fingers on his wand nervously. "Look, Ginny -- d'you know how much Harry knows about this Sirius Black? How much do you know? Because at dinner last night, Malfoy told me some things, and I don't know if I should tell Harry."

Ginny blinked and slid into a chair. "I know... the basics, I suppose. The thirteen murders, that he was supposed to be a Death Eater.... What exactly are you not sure you should tell Harry?"

"Well -- Malfoy said Black was the one who told Voldemort where Harry's parents were. And I think if Harry knew that, he'd -- well, go after him, Black I mean. And I know he's done that before, but -- thirteen people with one curse, that's... Grindelwald stuff."

Ginny had paled at the new information about Black and flinched slightly at Voldemort's name; at the mention of Grindelwald, however, she gave Tom a rather skeptical look. "Seems a little odd to think of Grindelwald as more alarming than... well...."

"I didn't live through Voldemort," Tom pointed out. "I did see the end of the Grindelwald years -- and Voldemort wasn't the first Dark Wizard to have people scared of his name." Tom smiled wryly. "I wasn't ever, really. I mean, I didn't grow up in it, really." He paused. "And Professor Dumbledore wasn't, so...."

"He wouldn't be." Ginny sighed. "It's just hard to imagine... Black, though. You're right, Harry just might go -- I think it's usually because he thinks somebody else is in danger, but it was his parents...." Tom was slightly alarmed when it looked as if she might cry, but then her expression suddenly sharpened. "Tom, are you absolutely sure Malfoy was telling the truth, though? I mean... it might be the sort of thing he'd just say."

"He didn't... make a production out of it, like he usually does when he's trying to get one over on somebody. Actually, what he mostly seemed to want to say was... well, that Black might also be after me."

Ginny bit her lip. "It would be the right time for him to have heard about you, wouldn't it? And you were in all the papers and everything...." Her brown eyes were very wide. "If he's had the recent news, he might be as angry at you as Harry... or...." She hesitated.

"Or want to... take me away, you mean. Try to get Voldemort again out of me. I thought of that too. I'm not going to go looking for him. Harry, though...."

"Is a Gryffindor with far too much motive for revenge for his friends' comfort right now?" Ginny offered a somewhat wan smile in return. "I'm not sure. It seems as if he ought to have the right to know, but everyone's already looking for Black and I'd hate anything to happen...."

Tom sighed and patted her arm awkwardly. "I didn't mean to worry you more. I just... needed to ask somebody about it, and you were the person I thought of."

"No, no, that's fine. I just don't quite know either. I don't even know whether Harry's already heard." She paused. "Though I did see Hermione in here about lunchtime -- in which case she might have found it out already."

"Well... she'd know whether to tell him or not better than I would." His lips quirked in a slightly bitter smile. "I was hoping it'd be in that book, because I know she's been trying to get Harry to read it. Anything so I wouldn't be the one keeping it from him. Or not. I just... didn't want it to be my decision. It's just so... it's such a big thing."

"I can check with her," Ginny offered. "I want to say he should know, myself... but I don't want anything to happen to him either."

"Thanks. I know you don't, that's the other reason I asked you." He shook his head abruptly. "Anyway, we should get to studying. Snape's having a quiz next week and I'd like to be prepared for it before the Quidditch on Saturday."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You are as bad as Hermione, that quiz is a week away --" She broke off and ducked behind one of the larger books. "But if we are going to study, we need to find somewhere else to do it. That's Briana and my other roommates who just walked in and they've been absolutely horrid ever since I started working with you. Duck down and we'll try to sneak behind the shelves."

Tom snorted and followed her. He could always ask about the roommate problem -- or problem roommates -- later.