The Greatest Kind of Magic

23. Whispering Hands

"...I hope Malfoy gets back soon, he'll so want to hear this!"

"You numbskull, when Malfoy gets back he won't let us listen anymore! I want to know what happens."

"Numbskull yourself. Malfoy'll tell us."

"Yeah, right. Like he ever tells us anything."

"What's to tell? They got him!"

"Don't you want to know what they'll do to him?"

"Oh, yeah..."

Jeremy peered into the third-year dormitory, holding his breath. Three boys were sitting on one of the beds, arguing in between taking turns listening to the Extendable Ear.

Now it's just a simple matter of distracting them long enough to pinch the bug...

Jeremy almost gave up there and then. It was hopeless: all their attention was focused on the Ear. But he quickly remembered himself. No excuses, Leighton. You have to do this.

"Oi! Let me have a listen!" said one of the boys, trying to grab the Ear off the current holder.

"No way, you listened for like five minutes before."

"I wanna hear what's going on!"

"There's nothing going on, Daniels, they must be travelling."

"If it's nothing, let me listen!"

Daniels lunged for the Ear, shoving the other boy off the bed. The third boy watched with interest as they wrestled on the floor.

Now, Leighton!

For a moment, he thought of simply walking in, jumping onto the fighting boys and taking the Extendable Ear by force. They were all much smaller than Jeremy, and with the element of surprise, he was fairly certain he could do it. But if he took the bug that way, the chase would be on immediately. He'd be lucky if he managed to get out of the common room.

Besides, Jeremy thought with a trace of irony, am I a Slytherin or not?

He took several deep breaths as he formulated his plan. His heart was thudding in terror. I'll never pull this off. But he had to. There was no other choice.

Jeremy sauntered into the dormitory.

"Time's up, boys," he said in his best imitation of Malfoy's drawl. "Hand it over."

"Hand what over?" asked the boy who wasn't fighting. The other two were still rolling around on the floor, and hadn't noticed Jeremy come in.

Jeremy crossed his arms and glared at the boy. "The bug, you dimwit. The Extendable Ear. Malfoy wants it."

The boys had stopped fighting now. The one named Daniels sneered at Jeremy. "Malfoy? Like he'd send you for it!"

Jeremy crossed the dormitory in three quick steps. Daniels had scrambled to his feet, but he was still much smaller than Jeremy. Using his height to his advantage, Jeremy loomed over him, projecting menace.

"Malfoy," he said slowly, "wants the bug. He's been held up in detention, and he wants to know what's going on. If I don't bring it to him in five minutes flat, there'll be hell to pay. And I assure you, he'll know exactly whose fault it is."

"Well then I'll take it to him. Just tell me where he is."

Damn it, Jeremy thought, knowing his bluff had been called. There was nothing for it.

"Impedimenta!" he shouted, pointing his wand at the nearest boy. The third-year was thrown back as Jeremy drew breath for the next hex. Something hot grazed his neck - Daniels had already pulled out his wand. Jeremy ducked as another spell came his way. There was no time left - he couldn't take them all on.

"Accio Extendable Ear!" he yelled, feinting to the right. His fingers closed around the bug when he'd already half-turned towards the door, and then he was running, taking the steps two at a time. Heads turned as he crossed the common room. He ran as fast as his legs would move, but it seemed to take him forever, zig-zagging side-to-side as the third-years threw more hexes his way. Finally, slowing down barely a fraction, he slammed into the far wall, grabbing the handle...

The door wouldn't budge.

Jeremy realised his mistake immediately - of course, all the punished students were locked in! I can't leave unless somebody lets me out. And who's going to let me out now? he thought bitterly, fumbling for his wand. Just a few seconds, and they'll all be on me...

"Petrificus totalus!" he shouted, pointing the wand at Daniels, who was in the lead. The boy's arms snapped to his sides and he toppled like a log. Jeremy had a sickening image of Liam Grady falling the same way between the rows of books in the library. And now, now Voldemort's got him, and it's all my fault!

Jeremy pushed aside the thought as he dodged another spell. Half the common room was on it feet now. People were running towards him, wands drawn. He ducked another hex and raised his wand, trying to get his mind under control for a Stunning spell.

"Stup..."

The door crashed open behind Jeremy. It slammed into his back and sent him sprawling. His wand tumbled from his grasp and skidded away.

"What the..."

Jeremy stumbled to his feet. His wand was a few feet away, next to the body-bound Daniels. Bauer was standing in the doorway, looking from Jeremy to Daniels to the other Slytherins. The door was wide open.

In a split second, Jeremy made his decision. He shoved Bauer hard, so his only Slytherin ally stumbled into the wall. Then Jeremy was out the door and sprinting down the corridor. He'd left his wand behind, lying on the stone floor in the Slytherin common room. And I've just made sure I can never come back here. As far as the Slytherins were concerned, Jeremy had signed his death warrant.

But all he could think, as he sprinted out of the dungeons with the Extendable Ear in his pocket, was that he had finally done something not because he was told to or forced to or too scared not to, but because he, Jeremy, knew it was right.

He slowed down as he began to laugh, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach. To an outsider, he might've looked hysterical. But for the first time in his life, Jeremy was laughing without bitterness. Jeremy was laughing because he was free.

If only for a little while.

***

When the curfew bell sounded in the library, Ellie realised she had bitten all the nails on her left hand right down to the skin. In her right hand, she was holding a quill, its tip black with dried ink. She hadn't written a word of her Potions essay. Her textbook lay open on the same page she's started reading two hours ago.

I haven't been able to concentrate on anything this past week, she thought. But it's worse than ever today.

She slammed the book shut a little harder than necessary, and shoved it roughly into her bag. The truth was, she'd spent her entire evening thinking about Liam. And that was stupid. Completely, utterly stupid!

Her hand somehow missed her bag, and the inkbottle she'd been about to pack away smashed on the floor, splattering the hem of her robes. Idiot! Stupid, clumsy idiot... Gritting her teeth, she cleaned up the mess, trying to ignore the worry gnawing at her stomach. She held on to her anger - it was easier to be angry.

The last stragglers were leaving the library when she was finally ready to go. She didn't try to catch up to them - they wouldn't notice her anyway. People were still milling around outside the library though, trying to finish their conversations. Ellie started pushing through them - she had no reason to hang around.

"Ellie. Ellie!" Jeremy's voice burst loud and clear over the crowd. Ellie jerked in surprise. There was no mistaking the urgency in his voice. Something's happened.

Heads turned as she pushed towards him. She barely noticed. It must be something really bad for him to risk talking to me in public...

Jeremy clasped her hand.

"What's going on?" Ellie asked, heart pounding.

"I got the Extendable Ear. Pinched it right from under their noses!" His eyes lit up, and his face split into a grin. He looked wild and feverish, his normally tidy hair dishevelled, his cloak hanging askew. "I'm dead. And I've never felt so good."

Ellie wasn't sure about that. He looked a little mad. He was gripping her hand so hard, it hurt. Ellie's stomach twisted with concern as she thought of the implications of what Jeremy had done.

But he actually stood up to the Slytherins... What it must've cost him! She was filled with admiration for this boy, for her friend - for her only friend. Before she knew what she was doing, she threw her arms around him. She held him for just a second, before somebody whistled behind her and she pulled away, her face burning. But when she looked at Jeremy, the wild look had disappeared from his eyes. He seemed surprised - stunned even - but no longer mad.

In the second that Ellie had been holding him, Jeremy seemed to have grown up.

"Come on," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I have to get this to a teacher. Any teacher. You have to show me where to find them. I've only ever been to Dumbledore's office, and you need a password to get in there."

Ellie nodded. "Snape is Head of your House..."

Jeremy shook his head violently. "That means going back to the dungeons."

Of course. Ellie berated herself silently for not realising. "Flitwick, then. His office isn't too far from here."

Jeremy nodded. "Let's go. There's not much time."

***

The silence in Dumbledore's office had gradually shifted from uncomfortable to oppressive. All Harry could hear was the crackling of the fire and the ticking of Dumbledore's clock - a sound which grated on his nerves for no apparent reason. He struggled against terrifying images of Ginny and Liam being tortured by Death Eaters. To block them out, he tried focusing his attention on the paintings on Dumbledore's walls. But even they had fallen silent, waiting tensely for something - anything - to happen.

And this is nothing to how Ron must feel, Harry thought. His friend was staring into the fire with a fixed expression, lips clenched tight. Harry sensed that every ounce of Ron's willpower was going towards keeping himself still. Harry's own hands itched to reach into the bowl of Floo Powder on Dumbledore's mantelpiece and throw it into the fire. They'd be at the Leaky Cauldron in seconds... they could find that place where the Pearl Jam concert was...

...And then what?

He shook his head, trying not to think of the last time he'd rushed out to save somebody with no thought of the consequences, no plan, no idea what he'd actually do...

"Hey, look!" Hermione exclaimed, breaking the silence. Harry looked up to see where she was pointing. "Fawkes!"

Until that moment, the phoenix had sat quietly on his perch. Now, however, he was flying back and forth between the trio and the door leading out of the office, giving an urgent-sounding cry every time he flew over Harry's head.

Harry, Ron and Hermione jumped to their feet at the same time. They didn't need to ask what was happening.

Ron got to the door first, flinging it open. Fawkes overtook him there, leading the way down the stairwell. Harry and Hermione were hard on Ron's heels when he reached the bottom and peered out into the hallway.

Fawkes let out another cry. Harry heard shouts and crashes echoing down the corridor. He exchanged a quick glance with Ron and Hermione. "What do you think is going on?"

"Sounds like a fight," Ron said. "Let's have a look."

Hermione grabbed his arm. "Dumbledore told us to stay here!"

Ron tore his arm out of her grasp. "Dumbledore can go to hell!" he said with surprising vehemence. "I'm not waiting around."

Hermione tried to grab him again, but he was already running. Can't blame him, Harry thought. Anything's better than just sitting and waiting.

"We can't let him go alone," he said quickly, though he knew he was thinking of himself just as much as Ron. I need to do something. Anything!

He set off after him before Hermione could protest.

"Harry, wait!"

***

Smack!

The sound echoed down the corridor, but was drowned out quickly by the Slytherins' jeers. Ellie struggled to see what they were doing to Jeremy, but Crabbe and Goyle blocked him from view. She could just see Malfoy, twirling her wand between his fingers.

"One wrong move, Leighton..." he growled. "One wrong move, and..." He made a slicing gesture across his throat. The other Slytherins laughed; someone shouted an obscenity.

They came out of nowhere. We were so close - just one more flight of stairs, and we'd be in Flitwick's office - and then the tapestry opening up, and Slytherins pouring out to surround us...

In her mind, she saw Liam, swathed in bandages on the hospital bed. She saw his eyes - those haunted, hate-filled eyes... They did that to him.

"Give us the bug, Leighton," Malfoy said slowly. "Give it here like a good boy."

Jeremy muttered something under his breath. Ellie strained her neck to try and see his face, but it was no use.

"What did you say, Leighton?" Malfoy hissed. "Say that again!"

"I said I don't have it!" Jeremy shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls.

Ellie heard another slap, and a gasp. Then, more jeers and laughter.

But he's telling the truth!

Ellie went cold. It's in my pocket... She was tempted to reach in to make sure it was still there, but she knew that would spell disaster. Jeremy's words, just a few minutes ago, echoed in her mind. "Try to get away if they get me. All their attention will be on me - you can make a break for it." She'd been sure, when he said it, that it wouldn't come to that.

How am I supposed to get away? They've taken my wand...They'll be after me the moment I move!

But most of their attention was on Jeremy. Ellie stole a glance at Pansy Parkinson, who was holding her at wand-point. Pansy's eyes were flicking from Ellie to the crowd around Jeremy. If I can take her by surprise...

Ellie's heart pounded in her chest, so loud that she was sure the Slytherins could hear it. This is mad, she thought. I'm not a Gryffindor. I'm not made for this. I'm fat and I'm clumsy and I'm scared of everything...

But Jeremy's a Slytherin, and he stole the bug to help Liam. Even though Liam hates him!

Ellie braced herself against the wall, and then sprang, cannonballing straight into Pansy and knocking her flat. Ellie grabbed for her wand, but it was just out of reach - there was no time! She scrambled to her feet and set off at a sprint, trying not to hear the shouts behind her.

"Nowhere to run, Midgen!"

"Get her!"

"Filthy Mudblood scum!"

That's not even true, Ellie thought vaguely. I'm as pureblood as any of them...

"Impedimenta!"

Something struck her between the shoulderblades, and suddenly she felt as if she was running through water, her muscles straining to move at even a snail's pace. It was like that nightmare she sometimes had, where she was being chased by some invisible horror, and every movement cost enormous amounts of effort. Any second now, they would overtake her...

"Stop right there, Crabbe."

Ron Weasley skidded around the corner, followed a second later by Harry Potter and Hermione. All three had their wands out.

"Finite incantatem!" shouted Hermione, and Ellie felt herself released. She sucked in a lungful of air - she hadn't even noticed that the spell had strangled her breathing.

"Stay out of this, Granger!" spat the voice of Pansy Parkinson. "You'll be next!"

Ellie turned around - some half-a-dozen Slytherins had formed a rank across the hallway, wands drawn. But where are the others? Ellie thought with a new stab of fear. She had thought they'd all come after her - but there was no sign of Malfoy or Nott or Zabini... Or Jeremy.

"I'll be next for what?" Hermione said disdainfully. "An earful of your screeching?"

Pansy didn't hesitate. "Reducto!" she shouted. A crash - Ellie whirled to see a suit of armour in pieces on the floor, and Hermione with her arms up as if to shield herself - Pansy's spell must've missed by inches.

Ron, however, did not miss. "Stupefy!" Pansy fell to the floor, as Ron rushed forward, zigzagging as he ran. Harry was right behind him, and Hermione brought up the rear, casting spells to cover her friends.

For a moment, Ellie stood frozen on the spot. Shouts and crashes echoed down the hallway as hexes hit the walls. Another Slytherin fell, her head slamming into the edge of a statue with a sickening crack.

Then Ellie too was running, her mind bent on grabbing that Slytherin's wand. It had fallen from the girl's limp fingers - Ellie tried not to look at her bloodied face as she picked it up. A crash behind her - dust in her eyes and a shard of stone biting into her neck - coughing, Ellie raised the wand...

"Protego!" shouted Harry as Goyle tried to hex Ron. Ron had his eyes on another Slytherin, who was duelling with Hermione - a bolt of yellow light from Ron's wand, and the Slytherin fell. But Crabbe was behind Ron. "Look out!" Ellie shouted, knowing he wouldn't hear. "Impedimenta!"

The Slytherin's wand buzzed uncooperatively in her hand. The spell hit Crabbe on the shoulder, but it didn't work - except to distract him for just one second...

Ellie tackled him to the floor. A moment of confusion, then he was on top of her, his weight on her chest, squeezing all the air out of her lungs. His wand! No, no wand - he'd dropped it. But his weight was enough - can't breathe - an explosion of pain as he slammed her head into the floor - black spots... try to get up...

The weight dropped away. Something heavy fell to the floor beside her - dancing colours... Hauled to her feet, swaying as her vision cleared. My face hurts... My head...

"You okay?"

Her eyes focused on Hermione. She tried to speak, but her chest hurt, so she just nodded. That made hear head hurt even more. No, no time... must think... help Jeremy... where did they take Jeremy?

She looked at the bodies strewn on the floor. Dust, shards of stone. One of the Slytherins with his arm at an unnatural angle. Not dead, of course...

Blood.

Hermione was bending over the one whose wand Ellie had taken. "It's not as bad as it looks," she said, the tremor in her voice making her words seem much less certain.

"I want to rip their bloody guts out," said Ron, breathing heavily. He aimed a kick at Goyle, but seemed to change his mind at the last moment. He turned around and kicked the wall instead, making a dull thudding sound. He looked wild and feverish, much like Jeremy just a few minutes before, his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead.

"Ron..." Hermione put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"We should take their wands," said Harry. "And there were more." He looked at Ellie for the first time. "I saw there were more of them behind you. But they all went down a side passage as soon as they saw us. Those stairs - they lead down to the dungeons, don't they?"

Ellie nodded. "That'd make sense. They've taken Jeremy. He... he..." She gulped in breath of air, stealing a glance at the fallen Slytherins - the aftermath of her first battle. She could feel tears coming on, and now was not the time! She reached into her pocket, and felt mildly relieved to find the Extendable Ear still there. "He stole this. It's the bug - the one you planted in their common room. He - he stole it from the other Slytherins."

Ron turned abruptly to look at her. "Ginny!"

In a flash, they were crowding in around her, straining to hear the bug. Ellie leaned in, too - she hadn't even had a chance to listen. But all she could hear now was a sort of continuous whooshing sound. She looked at Hermione and saw puzzlement on her face.

Harry solved this one. "They're flying," he said. "They must be."

"Do you suppose Dumbledore's found them?" said Ron hopefully. Then his face fell. "Of course not," he said, apparently to himself. "He'd bring them back by Floo, or a Portkey. That means..."

"Don't jump to conclusions," said Hermione quickly. "We don't know anything for certain. Listen - I'm pretty sure I can use the magic between the two Ears to trace the other one. But I need a map."

Ellie tried to concentrate on what Hermione was saying, but her head was buzzing with pain and noise, and her knees were trembling. Her eyes fell again on the unconscious, battered Slytherins lying on the floor and wandered over the scattered bits of armour and other debris. For the first time, she really felt that she was in the middle of a war. I'm standing on a battleground. A small battleground, but a real one. The hexes were real. The fear was real. The pain, and the blood - they were all too real.

She turned her attention back to the Gryffindors. They were plotting their next move, arguing about the best way they could use the bug to help Ginny and Liam. Time was ticking by, and they were forgetting the one person who mattered most to Ellie. She cleared her throat, but they didn't notice. "What about Jeremy?" she said, but again, her words fell on deaf ears. It's the same story again. Invisible Eloise. Ugly Eloise. Unimportant Eloise.

But damn it, this isn't about me! "WHAT ABOUT JEREMY?"

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare. Ellie's face grew hot again. She hadn't realised she'd shouted. But they have to do something. I can't be invisible this time! "We can't just leave him!"

"Well we can't leave Ginny, either!" protested Ron. "She and Liam are in more danger!"

"You wouldn't even have this bug if it wasn't for Jeremy!" Ellie shouted back, no longer blushing. How dare they, how dare they just ignore Jeremy like that? After everything he's done. After everything he's sacrificed! "You have no idea what he went through!"

"But..."

Ron's words were cut short by a pacifying gesture from Hermione. "I have an idea," she said, laying a hand on Ellie's shoulder. "This can help all of us." She addressed Harry and Ron. "You two go back to Dumbledore's office, and get on the Floo network. See if you can contact - you know where - in case anyone there knows how to find Dumbledore."

She turned back to Ellie. "Come with me." Taking her by the arm, she began leading her away, throwing her last instructions to Harry and Ron over her shoulder. "If you find someone, tell them what's going on. Show them the bug. And keep listening, in case anything changes!"

"Where are we going?" Ellie asked as they turned the corner. She looked back to catch a last glimpse of the bewildered-looking boys.

"To arrange a rescue," said Hermione.

***

Harry paced Dumbledore's office, resisting the urge to look at his watch again. It's only been ten minutes, he told himself. She'll be back soon...

"You know," said Ron through clenched teeth, his hands balled up into fists, "once, just once I wish Hermione would tell us what she's doing before running off to do it. Merlin's beard, would it hurt her that much?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer when footsteps clattered on the stairs. A puffed-out Hermione rushed in, clutching several large, rolled-up sheets of parchment. "Did you get in touch with the Order?" she asked, not wasting any time.

"No," Harry said. "There's nobody at Headquarters. And..." he broke off, glancing at Ron. Ron stared firmly at his feet. "We tried the Burrow. But no one was there, either."

"Then it's up to us," Hermione said, rolling one of the sheets out on the floor. A detailed map of England appeared. Hermione weighed down its corners with books, then placed her wand on the palm of her hand and said, "Point me." The wand swivelled obediently to point north. Hermione rotated the map to align it with the compass points.

Ron cleared his throat. "In case you've forgotten, my sister is missing? If at any time today you want to actually explain what you're doing?"

"I'm trying to find your sister, Ron. I can use the map to trace the magical link between the two Extendable Ears." She took the bug from Harry's hand.

"Origin," she said, pointing her wand at it. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Harry watched as Hermione knelt down, peering at the map. "There!" she exclaimed suddenly.

Harry dropped down beside her. A tiny pinprick of light had appeared on the map, right beside a dot labelled "Hogsmeade." Hermione muttered more incantations under her breath, her wand roaming over the map. Before Harry's eyes, a glowing silvery trail appeared, leading south-east from the origin. Its end lay over London.

Ron drew an excited breath. "That's where they are, isn't it?" he asked, getting to his feet. "They're still in London!"

Hermione got up, too. "That's lucky. We have a much better chance of finding them - and we can hope that Dumbledore and the others haven't gone far just yet. We have to try and catch up with them and tell them what we've found."

"Wait," said Ron, "you want the three of us to go looking for Dumbledore in London? We don't have a chance! We'll just waste more time!"

Harry looked at Hermione, waiting for an answer. Ron was right - surely Hermione could see that?

She glared at them both. "What do you propose, Ron? That we go storming Voldemort's fortress?"

"But..."

Suddenly, more footsteps sounded on the stairs. Footsteps - and voices! Harry reached for his wand, but a second later, Dean Thomas came into the room. Lavender Brown, Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Creevey brothers and an assortment of other DA members followed. About twenty people in total, all in Muggle clothes. All holding wands.

She was gone for ten minutes, Harry thought in amazement. In ten minutes, Hermione managed to raise an army.

Hermione smiled as she held out the Floo powder pot.

***

Ellie's heart pounded over the echoes of footsteps, reverberating through her skull. Neville Longbottom led the way, just a few steps ahead of her. Ellie glanced over her shoulder at the others - Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan and Cho Chang and more. Dumbledore's Army. The ones they could gather in the minutes they had.

As they went deeper into the dungeons, their steps slowed. Ellie shivered in the underground chill. Her breath came out in clouds of mist.

"Careful," said Neville in a half-whisper. "The steps are slippery."

It was growing darker, too. The torches on the walls were spaced further and further apart, and the few there were gave off only a pale, sickly bluish light.

"What if they're not down here?" said Zacharias Smith. "I've heard these dungeons go on for miles. We could be searching for hours!"

Ellie tried not to think of what that would mean for Jeremy. We've wasted so much time already! He could be...

She shook herself. We'll find him. We will. She tightened her grip on her wand - the one she'd taken from the Slytherin. She only hoped it wouldn't fail her again.

Suddenly, a voice called from up ahead: "Who's there?" Ellie stopped in her tracks, wand raised.

"Hey, it's okay!" said Neville, stepping in front and turning to face her. "It's Nearly Headless Nick."

Sure enough, the Gryffindor ghost drifted into view. Ellie felt more than heard a chorus of breaths released.

Neville spoke quickly. "Nick! Have you seen a whole bunch of Slytherins go by here? We need to find them, and quickly."

Nick shook his head unsteadily. "No, I'm afraid I haven't. But I can look for them, if you like."

Ellie nodded fervently. "Please! If you can find them..."

Nick bowed. "I'll do my best, my lady." He drifted away through the wall.

The students exchanged glances. "Should we keep going?" asked Ernie MacMillan. "Or just wait here?"

"We keep going," Neville said firmly. "Nick can find us. We can't waste any more time."

Ellie breathed another sigh of relief. She was glad Neville was in charge. He'd never struck her as leader before, but she supposed there was a lot she didn't know about him. Or anyone at Hogwarts, for that matter. Except Jeremy and Liam.

A giant fist clamped around Ellie's chest, squeezing tight. We'll find them, she told herself firmly. Both of them.

Ellie quickened her pace.

***

As Hermione unrolled the London map under a street light, Harry felt half the DA craning their necks to see over his shoulder. To the Muggle passers-by, they probably looked like a lost tour group. Harry hoped so, anyway.

"They're still moving," Hermione said excitedly. "And they're still in London. Though they're quite far from here..."

Harry watched as the silvery trail moved along, its distant end drifting over the outskirts of the city.

"My auntie lives near there," said Dean. "I don't think there's much in that area - some old warehouses, and not much more."

"Yeah, but how do we know where they're actually going?" said Ron. "They could be on their way to Germany for all we know!"

And suddenly, without any warning, the trail disappeared.

Harry caught his breath. Hermione actually sprang back from the map, staring at it with wide, startled eyes. Ron grabbed her by the arm. "Hermione, what happened?"

"I don't know!" she cried, waving her wand over the map again. Her face screwed up in concentration, she repeated the incantations she'd used to trace the magical link, but nothing happened.

"What does this mean?" Ron said in a strangled voice.

"I think..." said Hermione hesitantly, "I think it means they've gone into a place that's Unplottable."

"The Ear," said Harry, realising they had completely forgotten what they had in their hands. "Listen!"

They put their heads together, straining to hear.

At first, Harry couldn't hear anything except a soft rustling and what might've been footsteps. It was obvious that whoever was carrying the Extendable Ear was no longer flying, but Harry had no idea as to what could be happening now. Then, quite clearly, he heard voices.

"What's this?" A man's voice - a derisive tone.

The voice that replied, however, clearly didn't belong to a man - or woman, or child, or anything even remotely human. It was somewhere between a hiss and whisper. It sounded like wind in a hollow chimney, and sent chills down Harry's spine, even though he knew that the owner of that terrible voice was miles away.

"Prisoner for the Dark Lord," it said. "From London."

"Of course," the man's voice replied. "Young Malfoy's tip-off. His wand?

A pause, a shuffling sound. Then the man's voice again. "Take him to the cells."

The soft, rustling footsteps again. The clang of a heavy door with a metal lock. And then, quite suddenly, silence.

Harry looked at his friends. They'd obviously noticed it too. Not just a hush, or a quiet moment - absolute, total, dead silence. Harry shook the Ear, but it made no difference.

"It's broken," he said. "It must be."

"What? What happened?" asked Colin Creevey, who'd been standing behind Ron. "We couldn't hear!"

Harry handed him the Extendable Ear. Colin listened, then passed it on to Dennis. Those who hadn't had a chance to hear now leaned in, but it was obvious the Ear was silent.

Hermione shook her head. "It was fine a moment ago. Things like this don't just break - if something had happened, we would've heard."

"So what did happen?" Ron asked, raking a hand through his hair. "First it disappears off the map, now this..."

"Something might be blocking it - some kind of magic. I don't know, Ron!" Hermione bent to look at the map again. "Can anyone remember where they were when the trail disappeared?"

Dean pointed at a spot on the map. "Somewhere around here. Like I said, there's a lot of warehouses around there. Probably not a bad place to hide something magical."

Hermione nodded. She got to her feet, rolling up the map. "Well, that's something. More than we had before, and more than Dumbledore had." Her voice was calm, but her shaking hands betrayed her.

"We came here to look for Dumbledore," she said, "and that's what we'll do. If we can tell him what we saw, he might be able to do something."

"Where are we going to start?" asked Lavender Brown. "You know, he could be anywhere."

Hermione nodded. "We'll go to where Liam and Ginny were caught - where that concert was. Maybe we'll be able to find something there to help us."

They set off without arguing. Harry felt his wand in his pocket, resisting the urge to pull it out. He looked around nervously, feeling exposed in the Muggle street. It felt so strange to be here with the DA on his heels, armed with a map and wand and a magical bug that wasn't working. The Muggle world, which should've been comfortable and familiar, had never felt so dangerous, so alien. In Harry's mind, every alley concealed Death Eaters, every darkened shop-front hid Dementors after his soul.

And always, in the back of his mind was the sound of Ginny's voice, screaming. Liam, in the cold clammy hands of Dementors. Dementors after Ginny's soul. Liam and Ginny, tortured, killed, kissed...

Harry shuddered. They're not dead. They haven't been kissed and they haven't been tortured. We'll find them before that happens. They're...

Harry stopped in his tracks. Something occurred to him - something incredibly obvious which neither Ron nor Hermione nor anyone else who'd heard the final exchange on the Extendable Ear had noticed.

"Listen," he said, grabbing Ron's sleeve, "The... whatever it was... said 'prisoner'. As in, just one. And the man said, 'Take him to the cells.'"

Hermione turned to look at him, and slapped her forehead. "Of course! I can't believe I didn't realise! There's only one prisoner - and he's male. Which means they have Liam..."

Ron finished the sentence for her. "...but they don't have Ginny."

***

"Oi. Hey, you. Wake up!"

Who? Me? Who is that?

Liam felt a hard floor beneath him. And cold, too.

Where am I?

"Hey, you're not dead, are you?"

A man's voice: tired, hoarse, with an edge of desperation.

Liam groaned. He struggled to open his eyes.

"Please don't be dead. But that'd be just the thing, wouldn't it? I bet you are dead. I'm here all alone, with a dead person. Oh, God, please don't be dead!"

The voice cracked, choked. It trailed into a litany of "Oh God, oh God, oh God..."

"I'm not dead!" Liam croaked, putting all his strength into getting the words out. That seemed to help, somehow. He felt himself coming back into his body, his consciousness returning in full.

But the moment Liam was awake, his vision darkened. He was back in the library, struggling against magical bonds, screaming in silence as the curses tore into his flesh...

It's not real, it's not happening! They're just memories! It's not real!

He struggled for several minutes. It was the voice that finally brought him back, tearing through the screams in his mind.

"They're just memories, it's not real. They're just memories, it's not real," said the voice over and over and over. Liam realised he'd been saying it too - a duet of despair.

Liam found he was lying on the floor in a tiny cell. Three of the walls were damp stone. The third was crude metal bars, held firmly shut with a heavy bolt and padlock. Beyond the bars, Liam could see another damp wall. He struggled to his feet, and walked to the bars on wobbly legs. He could still hear the echoes of his own screams, and he was terrified that any moment, the memories would take hold of him again.

"They're just memories, it's not real," he said again.

"That's right," said the voice. "Just memories. Just memories."

Liam pushed his face through the bars and tried to look outside of the cell, but all he could see was a dim corridor. He guessed there was another cell next to his, and the voice belonged another prisoner.

The only light came from a torch, which was fixed to the opposite wall.

"What is this place?" Liam asked, his face still pressed to the bars. "Who are you?"

"It's a dungeon. I'm a prisoner. Like you."

"Yeah, I figured," Liam said, sarcasm masking his rising panic. "Whose dungeon?" He realised he didn't want to know.

His neighbour laughed a terrible, hollow laugh. "Take a wild guess."

"I don't know!" Liam shouted, fear becoming rage. "How the fuck should I know?"

The laughter stopped abruptly. For a moment, there was silence. Then, the voice said quietly, "I'm sorry. I didn't know either. They took the others away. I was so alone. Least I'm not alone now. But they'll take you away, too. No, they'll take me first. They have to."

The fear came back, striking Liam full-force. "How long have you been here?" he asked, grabbing hold of the bars with both hands.

Again, the voice laughed a hollow, mirthless laugh. "A week, maybe. Seems like a year, but it can't be more than a week."

A week, Liam thought, a dead feeling sinking into his stomach. A week, and he's already half-mad.

"What's your name?" Liam asked, pointlessly. "Who are you?"

"Simon," said the voice. "I'm a bank teller."

"You're a Muggle?" Liam asked, realising immediately that if Simon really was a Muggle, he wouldn't know what the word meant.

But Simon laughed again. Liam was starting to hate that sound - it sent chills down his spine.

"No, not a Muggle," Simon said. "If I were a Muggle, I'd be safe and happy in my bed right now. My wife..." he broke off. After a few seconds, Liam heard him whispering, "They're just memories, it's not real..."

"Simon!" Liam shouted. "Simon, it's not real!" He was terrified that Simon would disappear; that he, Liam, would be left alone in this cold place, alone with the silence and the fear and the awful memories. "Simon!"

For a few seconds, his companion remained silent, struggling with his own demons. Liam waited, calling his name, and repeating the mantra: "They're just memories, it's not real." He held on to the bars, his knuckles turning white.

Finally, Simon returned. "Yeah," he whispered. "The memories aren't real. But this, now. This is real."

Liam felt on the verge of tears now. He was shaking from the cold, and his own evil memories struggled to overtake him. He'd never felt so miserable and terrified in all his life. "Simon, you have to tell me what's going on here. Please. What is this place?"

"I told you, it's a dungeon. I doubt we'll be here for long - the others said they'd only been here a couple of days when I arrived. One got taken that very evening - she was just a little girl. Fourteen years old, she said. The other, he was older than me, and he was with me until the day before yesterday. Then they took him as well."

"Who took them, Simon? Where'd they take them to?"

"Where, I don't rightly know. Who - the Dementors, of course. The Death Eaters don't come down this hallway - they stand down the end and shout out 'Cell number four!' or whichever one it is. The Dementors open the cell and take them away."

"Dementors?" Liam said, his voice shaking. "Where are they?" He knew they had to be nearby - that was why it was so cold, and why all the awful memories kept trying to take over. Liam started shivering even harder as he thought of them.

And then he felt something icy touch his face. It slid from his temple down to his cheek, like cold, putrid slime.

He screamed and sprang back from the bars, feeling nauseous, shaking uncontrollably. "What the hell was that?!"

Simon's laughter echoed down the corridor, grating on Liam's already frayed nerves. "Why, that would be our guard. Didn't you realise there's a Dementor in here?"

"I didn't see it! How can I not see it?"

"Because you need magic to see it. And there's no magic in here. That's why the Death Eaters don't come in - they have no protection against Dementors in here. In these cells, you're as good as a Muggle."

Shaking, Liam sank down on the stone floor. A moment later, he was back in the library, screaming, screaming, screaming. Sometimes, his mind would clear and he'd be back in the cell, back in the present moment. He went back and forth, memory and reality, memory and reality. Liam didn't know which was worse.

Some time later - Liam felt as if it was many hours, but it could just as easily have been minutes - the Dementors took Simon away. Liam saw him through the bars, dragged along by invisible hands like a ghastly puppet. He was a thin man, thirty-ish, with a week's growth on his chin and wearing a filthy, dishevelled suit. His image burned into Liam's mind, down to every minute detail. Especially his eyes - blank, staring, dark pits of despair.

But when his eyes met Liam's, something stirred behind them. Simon jerked his head, his mouth opening. For a moment, he struggled in silence with his invisible captors, then he began to scream. "Lemme go! Lemme go! You can't take me! I have a wife! I have kids! I never wanted this - never, ever! What good will I be? I've no power, hardly none! Oh God, oh God, just let me go..."

In a flash, Liam was on his feet, his face pressing through the bars. "Simon! Simon!" He reached through, trying to grab Simon's arm - for whatever good that would do - but his hand touched something invisible - the Dementor's cloak. A cold, clammy, invisible hand gripped his, and a rasping, inhuman voice whispered, "Wait your turn, little one. Or we may forget our orders... Such a sweet little soul you have..."

Gasping, Liam stumbled back, shaking from head to toe. He could still feel that clammy touch, could smell that decaying breath.

Simon's screams echoed down the passageway long after he was out of sight. Liam didn't dare approach the bars again.