Harry Potter and the Dark Mark

Chapter Eighteen

"Oh my goodness! Harry! He must have walked within yards of us! Under an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione squealed. She had clasped her hands in front of her and was wringing them, causing her wand to flap about and shine light directly into Ron's eyes.

"Hermione! Calm down! And give me that!" Ron ordered, snatching the wand from her and holding it steady so that he could see once more.

"He did..." Harry began slowly. "But not metres - inches away. I felt him walk past me, and the Cloak was blown about so that my foot stuck out from under it."

"What was he doing here? Spying on Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape? What were they doing here? Who were they talking about?" Hermione launched into one of her torrents of questions, eyes bright and anxious in the wand light.

"It doesn't matter now. We have to go see Hagrid. We're wasting time," Harry decided. Hermione lingered longer over the decision.

"Come on Hermione. We can discuss this later. We can ask Hagrid why they came to see him. Let's just get inside. Please?" Ron groaned.

Finally agreeing looked as if it went against every bone in Hermione's body, but she retrieved her wand from Ron and uttered the counter charm to kill the light. The sudden darkness startled them, and they had to wait half a minute or so before the grounds were visible by moonlight to their eyes. When they got to Hagrid's Hut, Ron rapped sharply on the door. It was jerked open almost immediately.

"Who's there?" Hagrid hissed almost nervously.

"It's us," Harry said, pulling the Cloak off and revealing them.

"Ah! Well, don' be standin' there in the cold, come away in an' warm yerselves by the fire!" Hagrid boomed cheerfully. He thumped Ron and Harry on the back as they passed through the doorway, almost sending them flying, and smiled at Hermione.

"It's good to see you again, Hagrid," she said warmly.

"It's good ter be back," Hagrid admitted. "Well now!" Hagrid strode over to the fire and started pouring the boiling water from the huge copper kettle into the teapot. "The kettle's just boilin'. Olympe, would yer be so kind as ter pour?" He offered Madame Maxime the teapot with one huge hand, and indicated the three blue and white striped teacups on the scrubbed wooden table. Madame Maxime and Hagrid had already had some tea by the looks of it, because there were two drained teacups on the tabletop.

"Mais, but ov course!" Madame Maxime simpered, and took the teapot from him. As she was pouring, Hagrid had them briefly recount the school year so far, and all the dark goings on.

Hagrid became very thoughtful as they supped their tea. He sat in silence, weighing things up. Madame Maxime was the one answered all Hermione's questions about their visits to the Giants.

"We zink zat we 'av been soocsessful," she imparted confidentially. "Zey were not too 'appy, but zey did agree in ze end zat zey would not 'elp 'E Who Must Not Be Named."

"I'm glad," Hermione said fervently.

"Oui, Oui, but what is ze use now zat Dumbly-dore is dying?" Madame Maxime wailed, throwing her hands into the air dramatically. "Zat man, Loopin, 'e said 'e would tell Dumbly-dore what we told 'im, but what can you tell an old man?"

"'E's not dyin' any time soon!" Hagrid growled, interrupting the conversation unexpectedly.

"Is that what Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape came to tell you?" Harry asked innocently, not wanting to miss the opportunity.

"That, amongst other things," Hagrid admitted cautiously. "But 'ere, how do you know they came a visiting?"

Harry shrugged, slightly surprised Hagrid had not let anything slip. He was usually one of the easiest people to wrest information from. "Saw them as we came here," he answered sullenly.

"They came tellin' me an' Olympe 'ere 'ow things were an' the suchlike."

"And what else? Why don't they want anyone to see you?" Ron demanded.

"They never said that ter me," Hagrid said.

"Hmph," Harry grumbled. He shook his head expressively and began stroking Fang, who was nuzzling against him. It irked him that Hagrid wouldn't tell him the big secret. The conversation turned to other matters, and Harry forgot his irritation, and joined in once more. Fang sloped off to his basket and began snoring loudly.

The conversation moved on to the new teachers, Professor Brauen and Professor Figg. Hagrid only grunted when Ron asked if he knew Professor Figg had lived near Harry pretending to be a Muggle, and completely ignored him when Hermione asked if he knew why. Then he brightened up a bit and began talking as he used to, describing some of the things he had seen abroad. It was in the middle of a description of a Bowtruckle he had been attacked by after walking into its tree that he made everyone jump.

"Fang, no!" Hagrid bellowed suddenly. Harry turned to laugh at Fang, who had both front paws up on the table, and was noisily slurping up the dregs of Hagrid and Madam Maxime's cups of tea with his long pink tongue.

"Ah! You wicked 'ound!" Madam Maxime chastised Fang as he lumbered down to the floor. He whimpered at her, and then retreated to his basket, tail tucked between legs.

After Fang was snuffling away in his basket again, dreaming of chasing rabbits, (or running from them, as Ron suggested later,) Hermione reluctantly notified everyone of the time.

"I'll be seeing yer again soon," Hagrid rumbled with misty eyes.

"But I thought you were leaving tomorrow?" Hermione asked, thinking of Snape and McGonagall's conversation.

"No, no!" Hagrid said in surprise. "Whatever gave you that idea? We're stayin' til the end of the month! An' 'opefully we'll never hafta leave again," he joked.

"Oh! Must have got hold of the wrong end of the stick," Hermione shrugged it off.

"Bye Hagrid," Harry said. He hugged Hagrid, and then moved aside to let Hermione do the same. Ron was standing outside the door, with the Invisibility Cloak. With a cheery wave to Hagrid and Madame Maxime, he prepared to fling it over them.

"Wait!" Hagrid stopped them. "Yer haven't said bye to Fang. Fang! Fang?" But Fang refused to leave the warmth of the basket inside the Hut.

"And I don't bloody blame him!" Ron said through chattering teeth. "It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey!"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished in a shocked tone. Harry laughed, short, sharp gasps that wracked his body as they ran back to Hogwarts.

The next evening, Harry, Hermione and Ron were slouched comfortably in front of the warm fire in the Gryffindor common room. Ron was screwing up his latest Potions assignment for the third time that afternoon, and he aimed for the fire and threw the crumpled ball of parchment across the hearth viciously.

"I worked out who they were talking about," Hermione announced into the silence.

"Who?" Harry sat up straight, and leaned forward. Ron didn't move from his prostrate position. Harry could see that he had a hole in the heel of his maroon spotted socks.

"Professor Lupin," she answered calmly, as if it was obvious. Which, when Harry considered it, it was. "They didn't want anyone bumping into him because the moon was full on Friday. He'd need time to recover. That's why McGonagall announced to us all this morning that the grounds were off limits 'til tomorrow."

"Makes sense," Ron mumbled in a slurred voice. The heat from the fire and a full stomach was making him sleepy.

"I bet he's on this mission thing with Sirius," Harry mused.

"Say that a bit louder!" Hermione warned, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. She leant over to tickle the bare patch of skin exposed on Ron's heel with the feathery part of her quill.

"Those socks are holy, and wholly horrible," Harry teased.

"Shurrup! Mum bought 'em me!" Ron muttered indistinctly, pushing Hermione away with his foot.

With a sigh, Hermione stood up and marched to the door.

"Where are you going?" Ron yelled after her, propping himself up and looking awake for the first time in half an hour. "Oh, corridor duty," he answered his own question.

"Do your Potions!" Hermione called back. I'll be done in half an hour. Blaise is taking over from me, and he's much more reliable than Megan." She disappeared through the portrait hole.

"Megan?" Ron asked Harry with a wrinkled nose.

"Jones. Hufflepuff," Harry answered lazily.

"Oh yeah... quiet one, speccy? Likes History of Magic?"

"That's the one."

"It still makes me laugh that Hermione's a prefect and she was breaking loads of rules, sneaking about last night," Ron chuckled.

"Damn!" Harry groaned suddenly.

"What?"

"I left the Marauder's Map on Hagrid's mantelpiece! I put it there while we warmed up by the fire. I'll have to go back and get it. He'll probably let some strange creature eat it!"

"Or worse," Ron sniggered.

"Come with me?" Harry wheedled. Ron looked out of the window. Rain was trickling down in little rivulets and splattered against it when the wind was strong enough.

"You're alright. Besides, I have potions to do!" Ron grinned in delight.

"Git. That must be the first time you've ever willingly done Potions in your life!" Harry joked. He rolled his eyes and went to fetch his Invisibility Cloak, his cloak, his gloves and scarf, and then set off.

"Have a nice time!" Ron yelled after him.

"Sod off, Weasley."

Harry was grinning as he slipped under the Invisibility Cloak in a deserted corridor, and made his way through the school, to the main door. His smile had vanished within ten seconds of opening it and stepping outside, though. The rain was really lashing down, so hard it would have stung him had he not been so well covered by two cloaks. He'd realised his precious Cloak might be in peril, and so had performed the Impervius Charm Hermione had taught him, to make the Cloak repel water.

By the time he reached Hagrid's Hut, Harry's feet were soaked, his toes were squelching in his socks, and the bottom of his trouser legs made strange 'flack' sounds as he jogged across the ground. However, the Cloak felt as dry as a bone.

Dim light flickered at the windows of the hut, and as Harry banged on the door with his hand, he noticed Hagrid's galoshes were overflowing with water. No one answered. Harry scowled, and battered the wood with his fist once more. He gave a passing thought to Madame Maxime, and wondered if she was there too, but there were no sounds from within the hut at all, not even Fang barking. It wouldn't hurt to nip inside the hut, retrieve the map, and dash back to school. Hagrid wouldn't mind, he'd understand. The rain decided him. Harry twisted the doorknob and heaved open the huge door.

A strange sight met his eyes. The muted light was from a lantern hanging from the rafters, and the cured hams and pheasants that hung around it cast peculiar shadows on the walls. As his eyes adjusted to the murky light, Harry could make out two huge forms, sitting in the chairs that Hagrid and Madame Maxime had occupied the night before. He tiptoed forwards to the slumbering Hagrid, and timidly shook at his elbow, to wake him up. But it was clear that Hagrid was not sleeping. He was too still. His chest was not rising and falling, the beard was not moving under the tide of his breath, and the peaceful silence was not perforated by his snores.

The floor was suddenly at a crazy angle, and Harry was frozen all over, hot and cold at once, icy daggers pressing into his mind.

"Hagrid!" he mouthed, no sound coming out. Outside, the lightning flashed, startling Harry. Almost automatically, he counted the seconds until the thunder rumbled, staring at the lifeless shells that had once been living, breathing, people. People he had shared tea with not twenty four hours earlier.

One. Two. Three. Four. Fi-

Outside the hut in which a young man was standing, horror seeping into his bones, thunder rumbled across the rain whipped valley.