The Portkey Solution

CHAPTER 15 - Reality Check

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he waited for Draco Malfoy. Professor McGonagall, Professor Valora and Madam Pomfrey were seated in three of the five chairs across from Dumbledore's desk. They were all looking at an odd bit of clothing. A wrist guard from a Quidditch uniform was on the desk.

Dumbledore waited, sensing through the eyes of the gargoyle when Malfoy approached. He commanded the door to open and nodded at his Deputy Headmistress, who went to meet Malfoy at the top of the stairs.

Malfoy sauntered into the room in front of McGonagall, his prefect badge gleaming on his chest. "You wished to see me, Professor Dumbledore?"

"I did, Mr Malfoy. Please be seated."

Malfoy sat in the middle chair, looking a little less sure of himself at seeing the others. Dumbledore picked up the wrist guard. "Do you recognize this, Mr Malfoy?"

"It's a Quidditch glove."

"According to the name inside it, it's yours."

Malfoy leaned forward and looked inside. "Yes, it would appear so." He leaned back in his chair once more.

"According to Madam Pomfrey, it also has traces of Veternosus Brew on the buckle."

"Really? How do you suppose that happened?" Malfoy drawled in a picture of carelessness, not even bothering to look as Madam Pomfrey nodded in confirmation.

"I am asking you that, Mr Malfoy. Veternosus is quite a potent mixture. It can cause great fatigue, memory loss. It can even kill if administered to the wrong person."

"Kill?" The drawl vanished, replaced by a tinge of unease.

"Yes, kill. The house-elf whose task it was to clean the Quidditch equipment after the game was unfortunate enough to scrape her hand on the buckle. That elf might have starved to death, forgetting to eat, if she had not been found."

Malfoy waited, then realized he was expected to comment. "Well, it's a good thing she was, then. But I don't know how the stuff got on my glove."

"Noddy," Dumbledore called. The house-elf appeared with a pop. He handed a bottle to Dumbledore.

"It was in his trunk, Headmaster sir, wrapped up in some pants." The elf bowed and departed through a small door next to the fireplace.

"You had no right to search my things!" Malfoy was on his feet, blushing scarlet.

"So you do recognize the bottle as one that was in your trunk, Mr Malfoy?" Dumbledore handed it to Professor Valora.

She opened it carefully and sniffed the contents. She poured a small amount into a clear phial and shook it. The pale green liquid dissolved into yellowish bubbles. "It's Veternosus, no doubt."

Malfoy interjected, "Anyone could have put it in my trunk!"

"But we also have nearly the entire school as witnesses that you deliberately struck Mr Potter during the Quidditch match two Saturdays ago. You struck him with this glove, ensuring that you broke the skin. Someone else relying on your attacking him in precisely that way in order to poison him would be taking a tremendous gamble. Therefore, my only logical conclusion is that you knew exactly what you were doing.

"Do you wish to tell me why this bottle's contents were used on Mr Potter? Perhaps you know where he is or what your father plans to do with him?"

Malfoy opened and closed his mouth, then drew himself up in an attempt at disdainful dignity.

Professor McGonagall broke in sharply. "Be sensible, Mr Malfoy! Surely you realize just how serious the situation is!"

Malfoy looked at her scornfully. "What's so serious about it? That I gave Potter a crack about the face with a little something to put a dent in his revising time?"

"If only it were that, Mr Malfoy." Dumbledore stood and began ambling around his desk, holding out a hand to prevent McGonagall from continuing. "This is far more serious than a simple prank that got out of hand, or even a foolish act done without thought to its consequences. This was a deliberate attack meant to help kidnap a student of this school. I cannot permit such an action to go unpunished."

Malfoy began hotly, "My father--"

"Your father is the other reason you are in such serious trouble. I'm not sure how deeply involved you are with his activities, but you will not carry out his wishes here. This school has always been and will always be a haven for those who wish to learn about magic and all the good it can do." He paused, trying to get the boy to look him in the eye, but Malfoy refused.

Suddenly, Dumbledore seized Malfoy's left arm, quick as a striking snake. He jerked the boy to his feet and pushed his sleeve up to the elbow, then checked his other arm. Both were unmarked in any way. He released Malfoy, who backed away nervously. Professor Valora put a hand on Malfoy's shoulder and he jumped.

"You are not one of them yet, Draco," she murmured. "You are being offered a choice, don't you realize?"

"Indeed, Mr Malfoy, you are being offered a generous choice," McGonagall sniffed, unable to keep quiet any longer.

Malfoy stiffened once more at her words. "I don't see any choice at all. Either I admit what you want me to admit and you punish me, or I don't and you punish me anyway because you're convinced I did this."

"Draco, I am asking you one last time." Dumbledore's voice was soft, but steely. "Do you know where Harry is? Do you know what your father's plans are?"

Malfoy sat back down in the chair, crossed his legs, and made a show of examining his fingernails. Dumbledore sighed.

"Pack your things, Mr Malfoy. You are expelled from Hogwarts."

Malfoy straightened, stunned. "If I'm being expelled, my Head of House should be here!"

Dumbledore peered over his glasses. "Yes, he should. I don't know why he hasn't answered my summons. Oh, and..." He pulled out his wand. "Accio." Draco's wand sailed out of the pocket in his robes and into Dumbledore's hand. He waited a moment, watching, but Draco swallowed and stared back without saying a word. Dumbledore nodded with regret. "I rather thought so. A pity." He snapped the wand in half, letting the shining unicorn hair float to the ground, almost like it had fallen from Draco's own white-blond head.

"The Deputy Headmistress will accompany you while you pack and go to Hogsmeade Station. You will be on a train tonight."

*****

After they had left, Professor McGonagall leading a protesting Malfoy out by the ear, Dumbledore retreated to a sitting room tucked behind some bookshelves. Staci and Bill were keeping a firm grip on Sirius, who looked as if he had thought to storm in during the interview. Dumbledore shook his head.

"As I feared, the boy's loyalty is to his father above all else. We can only assume Draco poisoned Harry with the Veternosus on his father's orders. They probably hoped that Harry would be too exhausted and forgetful to think clearly about his meeting with Sirius or mention it to anyone who might investigate the matter."

Sirius growled, "If you'd let me, I'll go to the Malfoy house myself and tear it down brick by brick!"

"That's not the answer, Sirius," Staci said quietly before Dumbledore could. "He'd just kill Harry, if he hasn't already. All we can do is keep searching."

"We have got the entire Order out there searching! It's been almost a week and we have no more idea where Harry is now than we did at the start. At least let me spy out the place as Padfoot."

Dumbledore shook his head. "It's too risky. Peter almost certainly described your Animagus form to the others."

Sirius turned and punched the wall. "There has got to be more we can do!" he snarled, clutching the hand he'd used.

Staci closed her eyes against the tears that had sprung up. Bill put an arm around her. She gulped and said, "We just have to pray we get a break." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "We have to."

*****

The twins looked up. Pale, strained faces awaited them, somewhat hidden in the shadows of the trophy room. Fred reported, "It worked. Cutting the Extendable Ear in half with a Splinching Spell and slipping part into Bill's pocket worked. We heard everything." His eyes shone as the possibilities raced through his mind. "We'll have to test these and see how much more range they'll have--"

Hermione interrupted him sharply. "And? What about Harry?"

George shook his head. "It's not good. They haven't a clue as to where Harry is, and they couldn't get Malfoy to spill anything. They aren't even sure he's alive anymore."

"It's been since Saturday," Ginny whispered. She and Hermione bowed their heads so the boys wouldn't see their tears. Ron reached out and put a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She responded by throwing herself into his arms and sobbing. The brothers looked helplessly at each other for a few minutes.

Ginny heard footsteps in the corridor and pulled herself together, scrubbing her face on her sleeves. She went to the door and slipped through, only to bump into Cho Chang.

Cho had dark circles under her eyes. Ginny glared at her and said "Afternoon, Chang," stiffly but loudly enough to warn the others of her presence. Cho hesitated, but fell in step beside her.

"Weasley...Ginny, you hang out with your brother and Hermione Granger a lot. Have they been told anything about Harry's disappearance?"

Ginny clenched her teeth. She was well and truly over her crush on Harry, she believed, and had been for over a year. But ever since Parvati had seen Harry buying fancy chocolates at Honeydukes and Luna Lovegood had reported Cho receiving those chocolates, Ginny had been wrestling with all sorts of emotions. She wasn't in love with Harry anymore but she absolutely didn't want to see him throw his heart away on a shallow bit of fluff like Cho. The only thing they had in common was Quidditch. Cho was almost as bad a giggler as Lavender Brown and Harry had been quick enough to avoid Lavender when she started making her interest obvious.

Now she forced herself to answer in a manner approaching courtesy. Cho really did look worried. "No, nothing. The adults don't trust us."

"And your brothers haven't found a way to get information? The infamous Weasley twins are stumped?"

Ginny couldn't suppress her pride in her brothers completely. "If there's a way, they'll find it."

Cho smiled a little at that, leaving Ginny at the stairs to Ravenclaw's tower.

*****

Lucius Malfoy wrapped his heavy wool cloak around himself tightly against the chill and began pacing around the perimeter of the cave. He didn't understand this Hugo Victor or his machinery. And what Lucius Malfoy didn't understand, he didn't trust.

He didn't understand how Victor was controlling what the Potter boy saw and experienced, or how he was using the boy's own memories to bolster the illusions. He didn't understand how liquid through a tube into a needle in the boy's hand kept him from starving after days without meals. And most of all, he didn't understand why Victor had been given the opportunity to test this messy amalgam of Muggle machines and magic. He considered himself a leader among the Death Eaters with the Master still comatose. But everyone else, even Crabbe and Goyle, had been taken in by Victor after his arrival. He oozed charisma in order to push his plan to capture the boy and use him as a subject in his research, while they held him for the Dark Lord.

Snape had long since determined that an obscure potion made with the boy's blood might revive their Master, just as his blood had aided the return. Snape had already come twice to collect blood from Potter and would return again today. According to Snape's reports, Dumbledore and his hangers-on were no closer to finding the boy than they had been six days ago.

Muttering to himself, Victor was leaning over the box that connected to some kind of screen. The screen changed constantly, segments of numbers and letters appearing and disappearing at a pace too fast to read at times, always in lines of sixteen characters. He didn't seem to care that his robes were wrinkled and limp, that he had several days' growth of a pepper-and-salt beard, that he had only slept in short naps since Harry had been brought to the cave. All he seemed to care about was his "data".

And he muttered, constantly. It was enough to drive one insane. But someone had to keep an eye on things, and not someone enthralled with this upstart colonial.

A gentle thlock announced Snape's arrival. Malfoy had always envied how quietly Snape could Apparate, a knack he had never mastered. He stopped his pacing around the large black thing called a "generator" and glared. Snape's face looked rather pinched in the light from the harsh lanterns. Victor had turned down the idea of simple magical torches with a shudder of distaste that had infuriated Malfoy.

Now he strode forward. "Thank the fates you're here, Severus. I will have some interesting conversation for a short time, at least," he drawled. If Victor heard him, he did not react in the slightest as he watched the screen and tapped something called a "keyboard".

"It may not be as interesting as you think, Lucius. I received an owl just before I left, informing me of what I missed by ignoring my last summons from the headmaster."

"And? They are still at sea regarding the boy?"

"Of course, as far as his current whereabouts. But they apparently have worked out that the Veternosus Brew was used to prevent Potter from thinking clearly about the forged note. And that your son was the one to administer it. Dumbledore expelled him."

Malfoy hissed, "How dare he?"

Snape looked at Malfoy with disdain. "What did you expect him to do? 'Oh, dear, Draco. It seems you poisoned The Boy Who Lived and made it possible for him to be taken. That will be three detentions of polishing everything in the armoury.' Really, Lucius, Dumbledore wouldn't do anything else! I imagine it's just as much about removing the presence of an active future Death Eater as it is about punishment."

Malfoy let his breath out slowly. "You have a point. And Draco can be very useful to us in other ways, if he can be made to see this as an opportunity."

"Durmstrang?"

"Oh, no. That woman who took over for Karkaroff is firmly on the opposing side. She's in the process of remaking their entire curriculum, and, unfortunately, for every student who has been removed from there in protest, two more have applied."

Snape shrugged, pulling out a flask and handing it to Hugo Victor as he approached. In his flat accent, Victor complained, "You really ought to wait longer before you draw more blood. I can keep him alive and reasonably healthy with the glucose feed, but each time you do this you add strain to his system."

Snape looked coldly at Victor without answering, and Victor stalked off to draw the blood, muttering again.

Always bloody muttering. Malfoy gritted his teeth and began pacing again.

*****

November 2

Every day it gets worse. I have to watch every word I say for fear of mentioning something about magic or Hogwarts. If I forget that Ron is "Richard" here, if I look for an owl when Mum asks for the post, if I blank out on some Muggle event that everyone else knows about...any slip and Mum looks at Dad and he shrugs or pats her hand.

School isn't much better. The teachers left me alone for a few days, but now I'm expected to contribute in class, and while I know the textbooks pretty well, there's a whole world of common knowledge that I have missed between the Dursleys and Hogwarts. The other kids think I'm strange because I never heard of Robbie Williams or Hugh Grant, I don't know who's ahead in the football matches, I haven't played some video game called "Mortal Kombat 3", much less 1 or 2. I don't know what's worse: sitting by myself at lunch or being surrounded by kids who try and bait me into revealing yet something else I don't know.

I got a letter signed "Helena" yesterday. It was full of newsy bits about everyone else: about a kid named Norris breaking his arm in football practice who sounds like Neville, about schoolwork, about her cat Nibbles. (As if Hermione would ever name a cat something that silly!) The address was from West Coppington, which is about thirty kilometres from here. I've debated asking if I can take the train and visit, but I'm afraid of what I would find if I tried.

I miss my friends. I miss Staci. I miss Hedwig. I miss flying and being able to do things with the wave of a wand. I miss my room at Hogwarts. I even miss my real classes--right now I'd rather walk into a classroom and see Snape instead of Mrs Warren or Mr Pikingham or that sadist of a games-master Mr Harbury.

I can't give up. There has got to be a way out of this nightmare.

*****

At lunchtime, Harry decided he'd had enough of being ragged by other students. He took a sandwich, a pear and a can of juice from the cafeteria and carried them outside. He settled in a corner of the grounds at the foot of a massive oak tree to eat and read.

He had brought one of the Hogwarts notebooks with him to study more closely. It covered the last half of his third year, including that rotten time when Ron and Hermione hadn't been speaking to one another over Scabbers. Harry skimmed, pausing several times to shake his head. Seeing it all written down like this was so strange; clues he had missed while living it positively screamed from the page now.

A shadow fell across him, and Harry looked up. Three sixth-form boys were standing over him. He didn't know their names, but they were close enough in looks and attitude that he thought of them as Malcolm, Dennis and Gordon, part of Dudley's little gang of bullies.

'Dennis' cracked his knuckles. "So, it's the new berk, all alone. Wotcha got there?"

Harry closed the notebook and started to put it away. 'Gordon' grabbed his wrist in a painful grip and wrenched the pad from him. He flipped through it, frowning in the effort to read Harry's handwriting. "Oy! The little swot fancies himself a writer!"

The others laughed and 'Malcolm' reached for it. "Lemme see!"

Harry stood up as Malcolm began reading aloud at the point where he, Hermione and Sirius had been surrounded by Dementors. He glanced around for teachers, but he'd chosen his spot too well and there was no adult in sight. Resigned, he reached for the notebook. "Give it here."

Gordon pushed Harry and he sensed Dennis behind him, about to grab him in a bear hug, ready for punching. Without thinking, Harry brought his own arms up and forward sharply and stepped forward, twisting to one side. He dumped Dennis on his arse in a perfect ushirotori kokyunage.

Staci, I did it! Harry thought wildly.

The other two boys blinked in surprise, then advanced on Harry. He made another grab for the notebook and Malcolm reached for him with his free hand. Harry grabbed the fingers and bent them backwards, and Malcolm nearly collapsed to his knees with a yell. Harry kept Malcolm stumbling between him and Gordon while he reclaimed his notebook, then shoved Malcolm on top of Dennis to get them both out of the way and faced Gordon, tossing his notebook onto his bag.

Gordon looked at the other boys untangling themselves uncertainly for a moment. Then his face hardened and he charged. Harry thrust out his hands and Gordon automatically grabbed his wrists. Harry then spun before Gordon could latch on and used the momentum to send him headfirst into a prickly holly bush. Ryotetori kokyunage. Harry laughed to himself, but the glee died when he saw an adult emerge from the building and head their way.

As he grabbed his things in a futile attempt to slip away, Harry's mind raced in confusion. How had he known how to fight like that? Was it as simple as retaining what Staci had taught him, or had he imagined her training as a parallel to some kind of lessons his parents had provided? Either way, he realized he was going to have a lot to answer for back at Privet Drive after school.

*****

Ginny had the second afternoon class period free on Thursdays. She chose that time to slip upstairs to Gryffindor Tower. If the other girls in her year kept to their habit, they would linger in the Great Hall for some time. They loved to gossip and trade tips on everything from homework to fashion. Now was the best chance she would have for privacy, as Malfoy's expulsion was still the talk of the school.

In the dormitory, she knelt by her trunk and dug deep to the bottom of it. There was a slit in the lining. This was where she hid important personal items from her mother, and where she'd kept Tom Riddle's diary her first year. Now she drew out the bloodstained handkerchief, the one she'd used to mop up Harry's face the day of the Gryffindor-Slytherin match going on two weeks ago. She had picked it up when she'd seen Harry lose it in the crush of people on the field.

It was a really grotty thing to keep, but Ginny remembered what Professor Valora had said in class: any part of a person, no matter how small, could be used in a variety of damaging ways. Washing the cloth, even using a Scouring Charm, would not have been enough to completely get rid of every trace of blood, and Ginny had not yet found a chance to burn it unobserved.

Now she was grateful. In her researches on memories and objects for her part of Snape's project, she had come across an ancient but fairly simple ritual designed to astral-project one to a specific target. They key was in the desire of the caster, but possession of a physical link made it more accurate. Ginny hoped her desperation to find Harry would be enough to make it work. She didn't know what the danger would be if the spell went wrong, but it didn't matter. The adults weren't getting anywhere.

She lit white candles and placed them on the nightstands on either side of her bed. Then she lay on the bed, clutching the handkerchief, and firmly fixed Harry's image in her mind.

"Exportare ardoris."

She repeated the spell, turning it into a chant. After a few moments her limbs began to feel numb. The tingling spread slowly and she increased the pace of her chanting. She let her mental picture of Harry change, going through her memories of him...the first meeting in King's Cross, at the Burrow, in Quidditch practice, leaning over her in the Chamber of Secrets...

Without warning, the numbness swept up her body and she felt her awareness leave the room. Faster than her broomstick, faster than anything she'd felt before, she soared south through the golden afternoon. Her sketchy knowledge of geography noted Edinburgh, and in less than a minute, London. Then she seemed to dive for the coastline on the Channel, lined with tall cliffs.

Caves dotted the cliffs, and she flew unerringly into the one that drew her. She paused at a point where the tunnel expanded, now able to control her movement, and saw three figures together in the back of the cave. They didn't seem to notice her presence. She drifted farther in, and stopped short.

There was Harry, strapped down on a cot of some sort. He was blindfolded with a wide band of cloth and lay so his head was in a large, doughnut-shaped machine. Muggle electric wires ran from his temples into a smaller device Ginny recognized as a computer from her Muggle Studies class. Harry stirred, straining against his bonds, and one of the men broke off conversation to throw a spell at the computer. In a moment Harry quieted and the men began talking again.

Ginny moved farther in and then gasped silently. She didn't recognize the spellcaster, but the other two men were Lucius Malfoy and Professor Snape!

*****

November 2, continued

Now I've done it. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and Dudley were here this afternoon. Dudley and I were outside in the garden and I saw a tawny owl. I didn't even think, I was so hopeful about seeing one. I just tore after it. Of course it flew off and Dudley asked why I would be chasing an owl over tea. I think if it had just been Mum and Dad, they would have traded looks and let it go, but Petunia was already on the warpath over my fighting in school and she started on when Mum was going to call that therapist. Dad tried to shut her up, but then Vernon got involved and it turned into a hideous row right there at the table.

I finally just came up here and locked myself in. Vernon wanted to knock the door down and drag me back downstairs, but Mum and Dad got them out of the house. Then there was a long talk on how they think it would be best if I saw this therapist for just a few weeks while I get adjusted to my new school and all. In other words, "Son, we don't want to admit it, but we're afraid you might be a nutter after all."

I can't remember what Hermione's parents did. I know they worked together, but I can't remember what it was they did. Helena's parents run a shop, the bicycle shop where we got my bike.

I can't remember how we started trying to learn Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. But I remember Mr Lantry teaching the Pythagorean Theorem in a previous school, whose name won't come.

I can't remember the name of the band Dumbledore booked for the Yule Ball last year. But I remember an outdoor concert in a park where Helena tried to get Richard and me to dance.

I can't remember which Quidditch team my cousin Lexie plays for. But I know I have a second cousin who plays on the West Ham team.

I feel like I'm losing myself piece by piece. I don't know where these other memories come from and it's getting harder and harder to tell them apart.

Even if they were right, if I have been imagining Hogwarts all my life, how could I remember so little about growing up with my parents? The memories of this place spring up, crowding my brain when I'm thinking about Hogwarts or my friends, but there's almost no rhyme or reason behind them, and they're never complete.

Everything I care about is part of the wizarding world. If there's nothing left of it but a few familiar faces with different names, nothing left of me, I don't know what I'll do.

*****

Ginny drifted closer, trying to hear the conversation. Malfoy was speaking urgently, the stranger dismissing his worries and Snape listening in silence.

"...simply isn't enough. He's fighting it too hard to maintain your spell!"

"And I tell you the program is holding. Eventually the kid will either accept that he's a mundane and believe the illusions or he will go insane clinging to his identity. He's only fifteen, he's not strong-willed enough to break out of the world I've created from his own memories."

"He was strong-willed enough--" Malfoy gave the words a biting sarcasm "--to face our Master flesh to flesh three times and survive, so far! And while our Master grows stronger and shows signs of waking, we have no idea how much longer it will be before he's fully recovered, even if the potion is a success! This is not going to last! Let me take him to my house. The dungeon will meet our needs much more securely."

"But not my needs. I will not interrupt this process now it's begun. This is the first opportunity I have had to test the device on a human and I will not waste it."

Ginny floated back, looking more closely at the setup, which apparently held Harry in some kind of mental prison. She reached out an insubstantial hand to touch his face...

*****

Harry jerked his head up from the desk, where he'd lain down over his journal, unable to hold his fear inside any longer. It felt as if someone had brushed his cheek but he was alone in the room...

*****

...and there was a burst of beeps from the computer as Harry began struggling again. The stranger strode over, grumbling in irritation. In a panic, Ginny dove into the machine itself to hide...

*****

...and Harry fell over with his chair in shock as Ginny seemed to materialize out of thin air, next to his desk. He scrambled to his feet, then did a double-take: Ginny was standing in his desk, her Hogwarts robes from the hips down disappearing into his journal and the books. Her expression was one of confusion as she looked around, then she saw him and smiled.

"Ginny?" he gasped. "Is it...please say it's you!"

"It is me, Harry. Can you hear me?" He nodded, looking fearful, his face streaked with tear-stains and smudged with ink. Ginny hesitated; it tore her heart to see the fear. He so rarely let it show.

"Harry, whatever they've done to you, we'll fix it. Dumbledore, Sirius and Staci are trying to find you. I'll go to them as soon as I return to my body and tell them where you are. The Death Eaters have you hooked up to some kind of machine. It's doing this to you, Harry. It's lying to you."

A sudden tapping on the door made them both jump. A voice sounded, "Harry, dear, are you all right?"

Harry responded instantly, looking wary but sounding almost cheery. "Yes, Mum. Fell asleep at the desk and fell out of my chair."

"Then go to bed, darling. You have school tomorrow."

"Yes, Mum." He turned back to see Ginny's face shift from surprise to deep worry. He reached out to her and bit his lip when his hand sank through her shoulder to her ribs. "I'm scared. It's too real here. I can't be sure that what I remember is true anymore."

"It is, Harry! It is! You're a wizard, you're a hero. You are the Boy Who Lived, just like you remember! You have friends who care about you! Nothing will change that, don't you let it!"

Ginny felt a shuddering around her, and realized she might be pushing her strength to the limit. She reached out and tried to take his face in her hands. "Hold on, Harry. I'm sending help. Hold on to who you are." She leaned forward to kiss him, a useless gesture as her lips sank into his cheek, but he leaned in as if to respond.

Then she threw herself out of the machine and straight up through the rock above the cave. She emerged after some thirty metres and shot for the north. No wonder Dumbledore's ring hadn't worked, given how deep in the cliffs Harry was.

In a few moments she was back in her body, shaking from exhaustion. She got up, stumbling as she left her room for the stairs, hoping she remembered where Dumbledore's office was.

*****

Harry watched Ginny wink out of existence abruptly. He touched the desk where she'd stood, his face where she'd kissed him. There was nothing to prove that she had ever been there.

He pulled the journal to him. The page was dotted with teardrops where he'd broken down. He turned to a fresh page and began writing.

November 2, cont.

Ginny found me! I don't know how she did it but she appeared to me, just like...magic. She said the others are looking for me and not to give up. I am me, I am Harry Potter, Hogwarts student and wizard.

If I were to tell these people that, they wouldn't bother with that therapy appointment. They'd send me straight to hospital instead. They'd tell me I'm paranoid, mad, letting a hallucination convince me of exactly what I want to hear.

But her voice, her clothes...she looked exactly as I remember her and everything she said was familiar. It felt right. It felt true.

I have got to believe in Ginny. Nothing else makes sense. I have got to find a way to break out of here.

*****

Ginny staggered down the stairs from the tower, racking her brain for the location of the large gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. Her legs were trembling and she clung to the banister to prevent herself falling.

She heard voices and was flooded with relief. Sirius, Staci and Bill were coming up the stairs. They saw her and Bill leaped forward to catch her as she collapsed.

"Ginny! What's wrong?" Bill was aghast at how pale she was.

She reached for Staci's jumper. "I've seen where Harry is! South, at the shore. There are caves in cliffs..."

"Dover!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Dumbledore, got to tell Dumbledore..." Ginny lost consciousness and Bill scooped her up. They hurried to Dumbledore's office, and Staci threw the current password ("Ice mice") at the gargoyle.

Dumbledore was standing in front of the fire, talking to Arthur Weasley. Arthur saw Ginny's limp form and leapt through the fire into the room, dragging a cloud of soot with him in his haste. Bill laid Ginny on a couch and Staci checked her pulse.

"I think she'll be fine, Arthur. She's drained herself to exhaustion, but not dangerously so. We don't know how, but she said she'd found Harry near Dover, in a cave in the cliffs."

"A cave? That might explain my inability to trace the ring," Dumbledore mused while Arthur fussed over Ginny.

After a moment's thought, he pulled the second ring from his finger and handed it to Staci. "Take it. I would suggest using a Portkey to get to Dover, then searching the cliffs by air. The shorter distance may make the rings more effective. I will need Fawkes to get to the Ministry and the Order without complications."

Staci slid the ring onto her first finger and looked at Sirius. "I think we need Buckbeak. I'm hopeless on a broom."

Sirius nodded. "He's in the Forbidden Forest. We'll get Hagrid to track him down quickly."

Staci kissed Bill and disappeared down the spiral staircase with Sirius.

While Sirius and Hagrid called Buckbeak, Staci Portkeyed to the beach house and grabbed a few extra discs and a map of Britain. She returned and labelled two discs for Kent, choosing a spot away from towns that was central to most of the coastline. She activated them the quick and dirty way with a murmured "Portus" and gave one to Hagrid with instructions to pass it on to Dumbledore. She and Sirius carefully convinced the hippogriff to let them have a taloned paw as they all touched the other Portkey simultaneously and Staci counted, "On one. Three, two, one..."

And they appeared on a vista of white cliffs, some ten yards from the edge. Buckbeak screeched in panic over the sudden change and it took Sirius several minutes to placate him. Staci used the time to concentrate on the ring--Dumbledore had once described it in terms of a pull. Staci thought she felt a faint tug to the west.

Sirius finally got Buckbeak settled and climbed on his back. Staci got up behind him and pointed in the direction she wanted to try first. Buckbeak chose to jog for the cliff edge and leap into the wind.

*****

Lucius Malfoy let his sneer grow more pronounced as Hugo Victor worked feverishly to maintain the machine. Harry was thrashing against his bonds almost constantly now, and nothing Victor was doing seemed to have any effect. He had even disconnected the "glucose drip" to weaken the boy while he worked, apparently a choice involving some risk.

"I told you this would not last."

Victor didn't even look his way as he growled in response, "It will! I just need to preserve the program and provide more alternate versions of the boy's early memories, reinforce it. I just wish I knew what brought this sudden burst of denial on. He was almost completely immersed in the illusion an hour ago!"

Malfoy glanced at Snape, hanging back as if he were afraid Harry would sense his presence. "Have you collected enough blood for the potion?"

"Enough to make it three times over."

"Then I suggest you get started. Better if Mr Potter does not see you when he breaks free from his first prison. If it works, escort our Master to my manor, where we will keep the boy."

That drew a look of hatred from Victor. Impertinent American.

Snape vanished with a soft snick. Malfoy turned back to watch in some fascination as Harry clenched his fists and tried yet again to sit up...

*****

Harry sat very still on the bed, his head resting in his hands. He could sense that he was getting somewhere; every time he concentrated on something specific in his real memories, a false one would rise and try to take its place. But if he kept his thoughts moving fast enough, it was as if whatever had created this place couldn't keep up.

He thought about teaching Hermione to swim...it shifted into a day at a public pool with "Helena" this past summer. He deliberately tried to remember farther back, to remember "Helena" as a young child and nothing would come.

He concentrated on flying with Ron around the Burrow...and then he and "Richard" were chasing each other on their inline skates down the pavement. He pushed for another memory, of when he had first met "Richard", and there was nothing.

He focused on Sirius, beating the Dementors back from him in the nick of time with his Patronus...it turned into seeing a horror movie on the telly with "Uncle Stephen", knowing they were disobeying his parents' wishes. Harry tried to come up with a picture of "Uncle Stephen" doing anything at all with him as a child and his mind was quiet once more.

He relaxed for a moment, preparing for another push, and suddenly heard voices, familiar ones.

"I am telling you, let it go! The boy will dismantle this contraption of yours before the night is over!"

"No! I can maintain it!"

Harry jumped off the bed and looked around the room, out the window. No one was within earshot. He knew one of those voices, it had been Lucius Malfoy. So, this had been a Death Eater trap all along...and he was on the verge of breaking free!

Harry tried to calm himself, to think. He was in a "contraption", something that could magically recreate the illusion of Privet Drive. He remembered Staci talking about the researches of wizards in the States, combining computer technology with magic spells. He knew the concept of virtual reality. And he knew for a fact that this world was not the world he lived in.

Nausea roiled his stomach and for a brief second he lurched with dizziness.

He closed his eyes and concentrated harder on the fact that he was in an illusion-generator. This is not real. There was pain in his wrists and ankles and pressure around his eyes and temples. This is not real. The nausea subsided into a gnawing hunger. This is not real. He opened his eyes, sure that he would see his prison...

And the illusion snapped back into place. He could hear footsteps coming up the stairs.

Mum...Dad... he thought longingly. Then he sternly reminded himself, they're dead. They've been dead for fourteen years. These things you're seeing aren't them. It's the Mirror of Erised all over again. It's not the truth!

The door opened and for a split second Harry saw a familiar grey-haired man. The zoo! That's Hugo Victor! Then the vision jumped and it was Lily and James in the door.

"Harry darling, won't you come downstairs? You've spent all evening holed up in here."

"Come on, son. Be sociable. I still haven't heard how your courses are going."

"Mum," Harry stressed the word sarcastically. "When did I lose my first tooth?"

She appeared confused by the sudden question. "Why...you were six, I believe. You lost it at school."

"Wrong. Dudley knocked it out when I was four. Dad, when did I start wearing glasses?"

"Er...weren't you ten? Like me?"

"Seven. What's my full name?"

"Harry James Potter." "Harold James Potter." They spoke at the same time, then looked at each other in confusion. It was all still so real. He winced at the thought that he would never see his parents standing before him again. But he kept hammering away at them, throwing out more questions that they could not answer fast enough, then sprang the last one on them.

"How did I get the scar on my forehead?"

"Lily" actually stammered. "You got it...you...you don't have a scar!"

"Yes, I do! I am Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and I have a scar on my forehead where I survived a death curse by Lord Voldemort! I am a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! And whatever you are, you are NOT my parents!"

*****

Sparks flew from the keyboard and the back of the machine. Victor hissed and jumped back, clutching his fingers. Something began making an irritating beep. Malfoy saw the sudden incomprehension on Victor's face and retreated behind an outcropping of rock.

*****

Harry could feel the restraints holding him down. He could smell something burning and hear a shout of surprise and pain. As he watched, the image of his parents in the bedroom door jumped and wavered like bad reception on a television. Out, let me out, I WANT OUT--

*****

The metal cuffs holding Harry's limbs down flew apart. He reached up and clawed the straps off his chest and thighs. The CPU of the computer burst into flames and Victor wailed in protest, shooting extinguisher-style foam from his wand to stop the fire. Malfoy pulled out his own wand.

Harry ripped the blindfold from his face and the nodes from his temples. He tried to stand, tried to focus, but days of being sustained only by the intravenous feed had left him weak and he collapsed against the table he'd been lying on.

Malfoy strode forward. "Hello, Mr Potter. You might as well relax while we--"

He broke off, shoved backward by an invisible force. Harry was squinting at him. "You...you keep away from me," he snarled.

Victor continued to work frantically to save his device. Malfoy took a step forward, tried a gentler tone. "Harry, you're weak, you're exhausted. You don't know where you are. I'll take you to my home and you can rest, take nourishment. You ought to stop--"

"No, YOU ought to stop!" Harry looked around frantically, then held out a hand and shouted in desperation, "Accio wand! Accio glasses!" Malfoy's eyes widened as Harry's spectacles soared into his hand from the table. To have that much control so soon, in such a state!

Harry shoved his glasses onto his face and took in his surroundings. No wand. Some kind of hospital needle in the back of his hand. Skin crawling with the need for a bath and insides aching from hunger. He clung to the table and tried to Apparate. Nothing. Panic threatened at this failure of magic, but suddenly he remembered Hermione, scolding over and over how one couldn't Apparate at Hogwarts. Anti-apparition ward, has to be. Probably set over this whole place.

Victor had succeeded in smothering the flames and was pointing his wand at Harry.

"You little--you've destroyed a decade of work!" He raised his wand and Harry flung out a hand instinctively. Their voices rang out simultaneously:

"Stupefy!" "Protego!"

The Stunning Spell recoiled back toward Victor, but Harry's head swam alarmingly. He needed a wand; he couldn't keep tossing spells around without one...

*****

Staci reeled and clutched Sirius tightly around the middle. "Oh my God! We're close! Someone just tried to Stun Harry again!" She clenched her teeth, trying to concentrate on the ring through the vertigo. "Go down! Go down!"

Sirius pushed Buckbeak toward the cliffs.

*****

Malfoy advanced on him and Harry staggered back, then turned and ran up the slope, into the first tunnel he saw. He had no idea if he was running to the mouth of the cave or deeper in, but he hoped up meant out. He was quickly out of breath and trembling but he was much faster than the elder Malfoy, who had paused to light his wand.

Harry saw light ahead as well as behind and redoubled his efforts, but skidded to a stop and teetered on the edge of a sheer drop to the water. He glanced around hurriedly, but there was no place to climb up or down. He looked at the ocean, trying to estimate how many metres the drop was. The cliff cut in below the cave, which made his idea for escape Desperately Stupid instead of Utter Suicide.

Malfoy appeared, panting, and held his wand on Harry with an effort. "Nowhere ...to run...is there...Potter?" His diction smoothed out as he caught his breath. "Why do you run? Why do you fight? You know that you will either serve the Dark Lord or die in the end."

Harry glared at him with scorn. He turned and leapt from the mouth of the cave, plummeting toward the waves below.

Above him somewhere, he heard a familiar voice scream his name.

*****

Staci didn't hesitate. She slid off the back of Buckbeak into midair. Sirius, yelling Harry's name and flinging spells at Malfoy to distract him, snapped his attention back to her and tried to grab her arm, but she had already fallen out of reach. She twisted into a dive and Sirius nearly fell off the hippogriff's back himself, mouth open in shock.

Staci's body shifted and melted in a way he knew so well, and then a silver-grey shape plunged into the ocean after Harry.