Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of the Mind

HARRY POTTER AND THE LABYRINTH OF THE MIND

Chapter 12 - Celebrations and Realizations

It was chilly in the silent, empty dorm room where Harry sat. Just behind him, his four poster was piled to the top of the footboard with scarlet and gold eiderdowns. Every night when he flopped into their welcome warmth, Harry thought gratefully of the house elves responsible for such comfort. Tonight, however, instead of diving under the covers, Harry sat at the window, looking down on the snowy grounds and reflecting on the time since Ron and Annwyl were injured.

The school was practically empty now, as the students had piled into the carriages headed for the train just that morning. Not surprisingly, with all the uncertainty in the magical community, parents were anxious to have their children home and all the students save Hermione, the Weasleys and Harry had gone. Actually, Hermione's parents were anxious to have her home, as well, but Dumbledore had advised against it. Order operatives were spread rather thin as it was and the additional security needed for Hermione was easier to provide at Hogwarts. The Grangers agreed, at last, with the promise of a visit at Easter.

The students had only just departed when the whole Weasley clan arrived in answer to Professor McGonagall's invitation. Harry was surprised to see that even Charlie had made it back from Romania for the occasion. Since only Hermione, Ginny and Harry remained in Gryffindor tower, the Weasleys moved into the dorms there. Fred and George took the fifth year boys' room, Bill and Charlie took the seventh year dorm, and Harry stayed where he was where he would be rejoined by Ron when Madame Pomfrey released him from hospital. Hermione roomed with Ginny, leaving the sixth year girls' dorm for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry was particularly glad that Hermione would be with Ginny. It had been a tough time for them both.

On the day of the Potions accident, Harry had remained in the hospital wing while the burns on his hand healed. When it became clear that Madame Pomfrey was not going to change her mind about letting Hermione in to see Ron, Harry was able to convince her to go down for dinner with a promise that he would join her shortly. So, he was sitting alone when the door burst open for a frantic looking Ginny Weasley.

"Oh, Harry," she gasped. "I only just heard there'd been an accident. Is Ron alright? Where is he?"

"He's going to be okay, but Madame Pomfrey has Ron and Annwyl sleeping for the time being," Harry answered, gesturing toward the white curtain partition.

Ginny noticed Harry's bandaged hand. "Oh, your hand. Does it hurt very much? Do you know what happened? It must have happened pretty quickly if you couldn't get to Ron."

Harry looked up in surprise. "What do you mean? Didn't anyone tell you?"

It was Ginny's turn to look blank. "No, I didn't take time to find Dean. I just heard there'd been an accident and Ron was injured. I came straight away."

"Ron was injured because he was saving me," Harry said quietly. He told her what had happened and what Madame Pomfrey had said about their injuries.

"I see," Ginny answered thoughtfully. "Somehow, I got the impression that you - never mind." She shook herself slightly and sat down on a nearby chair. Harry could see her manner revert to the impersonal tone she had taken with him since their falling out. "So, there really is no chance of seeing Ron?" Harry shook his head. "Right, then. I think I'll see Professor McGonagall and then owl Mum." She rose and headed toward the door, but turned to look back, her face unreadable. "I'm sorry about your hand, Harry."

Madame Pomfrey had kept Ron and Annwyl asleep for a full thirty-six hours after the accident. They awoke a short while after the arrival of the Weasleys and, for a time, it looked as if Madame Pomfrey would spontaneously combust in her irritation over the joyful jumble of Weasleys who poured into the ward to greet Ron. At last, however, the nurse triumphed over family celebration and the group gathered in the Gryffindor common room. Molly Weasley, still needing someone to mother, went right to work on Ginny, Hermione and Harry.

"Ginny, dear, haven't they been feeding you? You're too pale, as well. Hermione, I think you've been studying too much. You'll ruin your eyes, dear, if you don't take a rest." She stopped to draw breath and was about to begin on Harry, when Mr. Weasley interrupted.

"Now, Molly dear, you'll have plenty of time to fuss over them, but it's nearly dinner time and I, for one, am famished. Who'll join me downstairs?"

It was a small group at dinner and they were seated at one large table in the center of the Hall. The presence of the others took much of Mrs. Weasley's attention and Harry was relieved to have escaped answering too many of her questions. As yet, no one had mentioned Percy, but Harry feared that it would not be long before the Weasleys asked to hear what he had seen in his own words. It was not a discussion he looked forward to having. Thankfully, by the time they regained the common room, everyone was much too full of the excellent dinner to indulge in much more than some fond good nights and head directly to bed.

Now, Harry sat alone at the window in his dorm, staring out at the chilly night. He loved the Weasleys dearly. They were more like a family to him than anything he had ever experienced, but that very fact depressed him, somehow. He was well aware that had he been the injured one, they would have been nearly as anxious to visit him, but it wouldn't have been the same. They were like family. They weren't family. Even the sleeping arrangements seemed to accentuate it in Harry's mind. He was alone. Ron would return, but only as his roommate. Harry was alone.

Reaching into the pocket of his dressing gown, Harry drew out Sirius' pocket watch. He had done as Remus said and kept it with him at all times since his birthday. It was always in his pocket or under his pillow - always within reach. Carefully now, he looked it over. Opening the case, running his finger over the engraved inscription. Such a beautiful watch must have great meaning and Harry felt, if only he could find it, there would be some comfort or encouragement for him. Though he examined it most thoroughly, he found nothing. No secret compartment, no charmed mirror hidden away, no spell inscribed on a hidden lid. Sighing, he returned it to his pocket.

He looked out over the grounds again and had just focused on the moon. It was at New Gibbous and would be full in about a week. Remembering Dumbledore's message, Harry smiled slightly. He would hear from Remus in the 'fullness' of time. Remus would be at Hogwarts by the New Year. Harry felt a bit of the gloom lifting at the thought, but before it could be followed by any other cheering idea; he felt the now familiar shiver as the world slipped away from him. In his mind, he could see Sirius as Bellatrix Lestrange's curse struck his chest, sending him hurtling backwards through the veiled arch. Just beyond the arch, Dumbledore stood watching, his face impassive.

Over and over, the scene replayed itself. Harry felt as if he must be screaming in anguish and hatred, but heard no sound, saw nothing but the horrible vision of Sirius' disappearance, filling his mind like an insane film loop. Harry had no idea how much time had passed when the cold wave washed over him, bringing him abruptly back to his darkened dorm. He only just realized where he was when the fatigue became too much and the dim view faded to absolute black.

***

The persistent thumping, to Harry's mind, was really irritating. With a muffled grunt, he tried rolling over, away from the sound, but the mattress didn't give under his shoulder and the sharp discomfort made his eyes pop open. The thumping continued and now Harry could hear the Weasley twins calling to him through the heavy wooden door. Slowly, he pulled himself upright, grappling with the concept of finding himself on the floor. A flash of light appeared in the keyhole and the door popped open, just as memories of last night's lapse flooded Harry's mind. He scrambled to his feet, decidedly ungraceful, as Fred and George burst into the room.

"Blimey, Harry," spluttered George in exasperation. "You could have answered or something. We've been pounding on that door for nearly ten minutes!"

"Yeah," agreed Fred, "we were beginning to think you had something to hide in here." His mischievous smirk didn't quite hide the genuine concern in his eyes. "What in blue blazes were you doing sleeping on the floor, anyway?"

"Er, I was, um," Harry stammered, still feeling muddled from his collapse. "I was sitting in the window seat last night and must have fallen asleep." He grinned weakly. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."

Before either twin could answer, Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded from the landing outside the door.

"Fred, George, where -? Oh, there you two are. You father wants you downstairs. He's off to the Burrow for a bit to check the wards and wanted you two to go along and speed things up." She turned a bright smile on Harry. "Good morning, Harry dear. Had a good sleep?" Harry hesitated a second and Fred jumped in.

"He fell asleep in the window seat, the silly git," looking carefully at Harry. "We had a bugger of a time waking the lazy bloke up." Fred exchanged a meaningful look with his twin - a look which did not escape their mother's notice.

"Off with you two, now, your father is waiting," she said, pushing them lightly on the shoulder blades. "Clear off and let Harry get dressed, can't you?" Her sons left muttering good naturedly and she turned back with a concerned look to Harry. "You didn't sleep well, did you, Harry? Have you been dreaming again?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley. Really. I just fell asleep watching out the window last night. I'm fine. I think I'll get dressed." He had no intention of letting anyone know about last night's lapse, not even Dumbledore. Especially not Dumbledore. He didn't want to face the headmaster with the memory of the man's face as he watched Sirius fall, playing through his mind. He felt confused and foggy about the whole thing. He'd done his level best not to see those images at all. To have the memory of Sirius' death and the actual sight of it thrust upon him was more than a little unsettling. No, he really didn't want to discuss it with anyone.

Mrs. Weasley looked at him searchingly, but finally relented with a smile. She turned for the door, talking over her shoulder as she left. "Alright, then. You'll have to convince me you're all right by eating a proper breakfast. We'll see you downstairs soon, then, dear." Harry didn't hear her sad sigh as she gently shut the door behind her.

Harry wasn't able to do justice to a truly large breakfast, but did manage to eat and even talk enough to satisfy Mrs. Weasley. Desperate to escape questions and his own thoughts, he was more than happy to go out with the others to the snowy grounds for what the twins promised would be a 'snow fight to end all snow fights.' Ginny joined them and had, miraculously, even convinced Hermione to come along, so Charlie, Bill, Ginny and Hermione teamed up against Harry and the twins. Actually, the twins had insisted that they needed no help, but were only too glad to have Harry and his reflexes, all the same.

Charlie and Bill went right to work, building an imposing scale model of the front wall of the castle with charmed snow. The others busily made dozens of snowballs, piling them in great piles around the back side of the Charlie and Bill's wall and near various bushes and tree stumps out in front of the snow castle. Once, Harry was certain he'd seen Fred waving his wand over some of the snowballs, but when he whipped around for a second look, Fred was already shaping more missiles and shouting for Ginny to help him create a stockpile by a particularly large stump.

When Bill was satisfied with the snow castle and the others were tired of making snowballs, Charlie beckoned Harry to him. "I trust you more than the twins," he said grinning. "The hand on top gets the castle, right?" Harry nodded and Charlie tossed his wand in the air, catching it as it fell. Harry placed his hand above and Charlie was just able to get a fingerhold on the tip, gaining the snow fort for his team.

Harry rejoined the twins who had already taken shelter behind some nearby bushes to plan their attack.

"Harry, my lad," announced George cheerfully, "I don't want you to feel disappointed that Charlie beat you out for the snow fort." He nodded toward his twin. "Fred, here, has already taken care of that."

"Yep. No worries." Fred replied and, taking his wand from his cloak, pointed it at the fort where the top of Bill's head could just be seen as they crouched behind it, planning. "Arpegiata sempre en tiempo," he said calmly.

"What did you just do?" Harry asked distrustfully.

"A simple animating charm, Harry. That's all - with a slight delay built in." The identical smirks before Harry would have been worrisome had he been on the receiving end. As it was, Harry could afford to be amused.

"And just what are you two animating, anyway?

"All in good time, Harry, all in good time."

With that, Fred and George rose and pierced the frosty air with identical battle cries. Charging forward, arms full of snowballs and Harry at their heels, they launched a full, frontal assault on the snow fort. The first volley of snowballs had just come from behind the wall when Fred drew his wand again and yelled.

"Tempus est!"

Another flurry of snowballs came hurtling from behind the snow castle wall but at Fred's cry, they checked their flight and began swirling in the air. George rushed through the chaos of wildly whizzing snowballs, firing his own with great accuracy at any glimpse of red hair that appeared above the wall. With a shout of laughter, Harry realized what they had done. All of the pre-made snowballs coming from the castle would be charmed to fly about erratically. Theirs, on the other hand, were still behaving like proper snowballs. Grinning manically, Harry rushed in just behind George, Fred close behind.

It took only a few moments for Charlie to realize what had happened. Laughing, he seized a fistful of snow from the ground at his feet and called to his teammates, "Make new ones! All of those snowballs are charmed! You great daft beggars! I'll have those red mops for pelts, see if I don't!"

With his quick reflexes, Harry was able to dodge most of the erratic missiles and was soon scaling the snowy wall before him. Just as he pulled himself to the top and was about to drop over, he was met with an enormous load of snow, striking both sides of his head simultaneously. The snow still clinging to his glasses and sliding down his collar, his shoulders were seized by two pairs of hands and he was pulled over to land in an ungainly heap on the ground below.

Swiping the snow from his face with a yelp, he looked up into the rosy, determined faces of Hermione and Ginny. Hermione was laughing and scooping snow to finish the job of packing his collar, but Ginny's face was brilliant with the light of battle. Grabbing one of Harry's ankles, she dragged him, much to his surprise as he was now quite a bit larger than she, over to Bill.

"Got one! Quick, bind his feet and keep him out of the way."

Bill looked down at Harry in surprise. "Wow, Harry. Whatever did you do to get her so riled up?" Fortunately, he didn't seem to expect an answer and, still chuckling, he cast a light binding charm on Harry's feet, adding a warming charm so he wouldn't freeze waiting for the battle to end.

And the battle was certainly nearing an end. Harry soon decided he was glad to have an excuse to stay out of it. Charlie and Ginny soon proved themselves to be every bit as ruthless as Fred and George. They hadn't time to create charmed snowballs of their own, but both were especially adept at making icy snowballs, tightly packed and frosted with their breath. They landed these on the twins' necks with stinging slaps that made Harry wince. Bill and Hermione were, with predictable precision, pasting the intruders with any snow that came to hand. In an amazing and somewhat disturbing display of aggression, Ginny hurled herself over the wall, knocking Fred to the ground and landing squarely on his chest. Scrubbing his face in the snow, she yelled.

"Give! Give, you clod! I've got you! GIVE!"

By now, Fred's mouth was too full of snow to answer and George was hardly any help as he was laughing too hard to speak. Gasping and squirming, Fred managed a muffled grunt which Ginny accepted as surrender and George, left by himself, soon followed. After packing the collars of both her twin brothers, Ginny let them go and returned, triumphant, to her teammates. Harry, still bound at the ankles, was suddenly unreasonably happy at the outcome.

After such a tempestuous morning, the afternoon was spent more quietly by the great cheerful fire in the Gryffindor common room. They took turns going in small groups to visit Ron and Annwyl. Harry was glad to see, when his turn came to go, that both Ron and Annwyl were sitting up, looking alert and more than ready to leave the hospital ward.

"I can't believe I missed the snow fight," Ron moaned, flopping back against his pillows disconsolately. "Oh, I would have loved to see the look on Fred's face. And yours, Harry, when Ginny dragged you off by your leg!" He chuckled appreciatively.

Hermione turned to Annwyl and smiled, "You certainly look as if you are feeling better, Professor."

"Outside of class, Hermione, I think you may call me Annwyl. The others sort of got in the habit over the summer." Annwyl smiled but her eyes were still a little shadowed. "I do feel much more myself, thank you, but I don't have Ron's resilience. I admit I am still feeling rather worn."

"And that is precisely why the two of you will be staying right where you are until tomorrow evening," Madame Pomfrey announced firmly, entering the ward. "I think you should be able to manage the Christmas dinner if you promise to head straight away to bed right after. A few more days of rest and you should both be quite up to your usual levels." With that, she shooed the visitors away.

***

Harry resolutely put his visions and lapses behind him that night and managed a respectable night's sleep. When he awoke the next morning, instead of a pile of presents on the foot of his bed, there was a note telling him to join the others in the common room. Sleepily pulling on his dressing gown, he stumbled down the stairs, joining Bill and Charlie on the landing. Entering the common room below, they found everyone else already there and waiting.

Before the chairs around the room were piles of gifts. It didn't take long for Harry, Charlie and Bill to find their place and everyone tore into their presents, laughing and joking all the while. There were books for all from Hermione, tricks and jokes from the twins, Weasley sweaters from Mrs. Weasley and mounds of treacle fudge sent up from Hagrid's hut. Piles of Honeydukes sweets passed around from the others, sugar quills, Everyflavor beans, chocolate frogs and fizzing whizbees enough to give everyone in the castle a toothache.

After the merry gift exchange, the day was passed in quiet, friendly pursuits. The weather had changed during the night and a stiff, snow-laden wind moaned around the castle walls making a snow fight out of the question. Instead, they played chess and Exploding Snap and read their new books. Harry spent a considerable time with Bill, looking over the book of heckling charms he'd received for his birthday. With Bill's help, Harry mastered the page-erasing charm with which, he successfully blanked (temporarily) all the pages of Hermione's copy of Hogwarts: a History. Hermione wasn't amused until the words reappeared several hours later. He had nearly figured out Podomentus - the tripping charm, but after managing a few surprise attacks on unsuspecting Weasleys, they all grew too wary of him for him to practice any further.

The dinner hour found all the faculty, the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry gathered in the Great Hall. Despite the small gathering, the decorations were as grand as ever. The customary twelve great fir trees were resplendent with fairy lights, tinkling crystal-like bells, everlasting icicles and tiny gold and silver song birds which softly sang carols throughout the meal. Ron and Annwyl were there, Ron in his own brightly colored Weasley sweater (by some miracle, deep blue rather than maroon), Annwyl in uncharacteristically floaty sort of robes of deep purple. As Harry looked around, he noticed the nearly all the others, too, had donned Weasley sweaters or other festive attire. Dumbledore sported a particularly brilliant silver robe while Professor McGonagall had restricted herself to her usual tartan band and cluster of thistles on her peaked hat. Only Snape appeared in his same, severe black.

Harry was, again, grateful for the merry uproar that kept everyone too occupied to ask him questions about Percy or his feeble attempt to cover being found flat out on his dorm room floor. Outwardly, he had maintained the appearance of festive cheer. Inwardly, he was plagued by what he had seen during his lapse the night before. Though he had often replayed the events of that night at the Department of Mysteries, he had never recalled seeing Dumbledore at the moment of Sirius' disappearance through the veil. It was disturbing. That expression of bland indifference was so unlike what Harry would have expected.

But was it? Harry had to admit that he had been struck at the time by Dumbledore's calm acceptance of Sirius' loss. Come to that, hadn't Dumbledore told Voldemort, during their duel, that he didn't consider death as the greatest evil. Evidently, Dumbledore had chosen to accept the lives of those engaged in this battle against Voldemort as a price that he was fine with paying. Okay, so the overall result was surely of prime importance. Voldemort must be defeated. But the price already exacted, to Harry's mind, was too terrible to face. The quiet acquiescence of the headmaster became more and more painful as Harry saw, again and again, that expression on the old wizard's face.

Harry hadn't realized how long he had been sitting in silent, aching reflection. He jumped when Dumbledore's voice spoke at his side.

"Harry, my boy, is everything alright?" The headmaster stood next to Harry's chair, looking down with eyebrows drawn. In surprise, Harry saw that nearly everyone had risen from the table and was making their way from the Hall. "You've grown quite solemn and Molly mentioned you hadn't been sleeping well. Is there anything you think you'd like to tell me, Harry?"

Harry looked into those blue eyes and for a brief moment, he felt silly for having ever doubted this man. The old face had grown much more deeply lined of late and the brilliant twinkle of the eyes was increasingly absent. Harry realized with a guilty shock that he had never really paid attention. But in the next breath, Harry saw again in his mind's eye, the moment that Sirius was lost to them. He lowered his gaze, shaking his head slightly.

"No, sir. I'm fine. I just fell asleep in the window seat the other night, is all. Mrs. Weasley is worrying too much." He mustered a weak sort of smile. "Everything is fine."

Dumbledore looked into Harry's face searchingly, as if unsatisfied, but nodded at last and turned to go. He looked back over his shoulder as he left the Hall.

"Happy Christmas, then, Harry."

***

The next several days passed much as the first had, with the exception of the holiday festivities. There were several more snowball fights - though none as spectacular as the first - and, now that Ron was back in Gryffindor tower, long evenings of chess tournaments. Five days passed away in this quiet way but on the morning of the sixth, Harry was called aside after breakfast by Dumbledore.

"Harry, I think I should like for you to spend some time in the dungeons today. For now, you had best go on your own, but perhaps, after you have seen our friend, you might take along Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. Consult with our friend and proceed as he thinks best. The door will continue to open, however, only to your wand."

Harry needed no urging and as soon as the others had gone off to their snow fights and chess games, Harry drifted away, mercifully unnoticed, and hurried to the deep dungeon corridor where Remus' hiding place lay. Knocking lightly, he touched his wand tip to the great rune and slipped in the door.

Harry was shocked by what he saw. Remus, never very strong or healthy looking, had grown more weary looking than ever. His hair had grown longer and Harry could see more gray mixed into the light brown. His face was thinner and more pale. Seeing the surprise and worry in Harry's expression, he smiled and shook his head.

"Don't look at me like that, Harry. You'll give me a complex. It's alright, really. I just didn't have access to the Wolfsbane during the last lunar cycle and it rather took it out of me. I'm feeling much better this time round. In fact, if I keep living in these cushy conditions, I'll soon be growing fat and soft."

Harry found himself unable to answer so he merely nodded. Remus led him over to the sitting area and they dropped into the tweed armchairs. After a few moments of awkward silence, Harry ventured to ask what had been learned about Voldemort's attacks and his plans for the werewolves and his soul-imposed victims. Not surprisingly, Remus declined to give Harry much of an answer, but he did fill Harry in on a few things.

"Well, as you already knew, many of the werewolves have opted to join the Death Eaters, even the muggle werewolves, which, frankly, I find ironic." Remus sighed. "I wish there was some way to find out what their role in all this will be. They've, no doubt, been promised the moon, if you'll forgive the expression, for their cooperation."

Nothing further had been learned about Percy Weasley or his whereabouts. The only thing the Order had been able to discover was that Percy's last known contact at the Ministry had, in fact, been a Death Eater infiltrator. It was still not known if Percy had gone with the man willingly or had been coerced in some way. The Ministry had, officially, refused to accept that any Death Eaters had infiltrated and was dismissing Percy's disappearance as the result of overwork and strain. The only good news in that was that it spared the Weasley family any unsavory publicity, at least for the time being.

After a morning spent in general sort of conversation, Harry asked Remus what he thought about bringing Ron and Hermione to see him. Remus was enthusiastic and Harry set off at once for Gryffindor tower.

Harry had expected a much more shocked response from his friends when he whispered to them that he was taking them to see Remus. Ron nodded as if it was the most natural communication in the world, and Hermione spoke calmly.

"Well, we figured the headmaster would help Remus hide and really, where better to hide than here? But have you really known all this time, Harry, without telling us?" There was a trace of disappointment in her voice.

"Well, he's only been here for one full moon and that was just before Halloween. You two were sort of, er, busy then and anyway, Dumbledore wouldn't let me tell you."

Remus greeted them with smiles and though Ron and Hermione were as shocked by Remus' appearance as Harry had been, they wisely said nothing. Instead, they asked the same sort of questions Harry had. Remus was equally evasive with them, but his tone was gentle as he tried to answer Ron's questions regarding Percy as tactfully as possible.

"Don't worry, Remus," Ron sighed. "I know Percy's in more trouble than anyone can really guess. I just wish there was some way to know how he got mixed up in such a stinking mess."

"We'll find out, Ron. One way or another," Remus answered. "I promise."

Evidently thinking it best to turn the subject, Hermione jumped in to ask Remus what he knew about the Hufflepuff Annwyl had dueled with in school. Remus looked surprised, but Hermione merely shrugged.

"I was interested in the house relations in those days, you know? I mean, it wasn't usual for a Hufflepuff to have a disagreement with a Ravenclaw, was it?"

Remus frowned. "Hufflepuff? I don't recall that the bloke was in Hufflepuff. He could have been, I suppose. I was always under the impression he was a Slytherin. I don't recall his name, though. Sorry." He shrugged dismissively, clearly not overly concerned with the whole subject.

Ron started to speak, but Hermione interrupted, shooting him a meaningful look. "I guess we must have been mistaken, then. Right, Harry?" She glanced at Harry's surprised face and visibly relaxed when he nodded dumbly. "After all, that is more in keeping with house tradition. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs generally do get along."

***

Harry didn't see Remus again for a couple of days as the moon was full and Remus had asked for an extra day to recover before Harry came to visit again. So, he agreed to visit, instead, after dinner on the second day after the full moon.

That evening at dinner, the group was more giddy than ever. Ron had felt well enough to join the others outside for a brief period and though he wasn't up for a great deal of horseplay, he had managed to fill George's ear with a particularly slushy snowball. This put him in a fine humor the rest of the day. The resulting gloating and good natured teasing back and forth among the Weasley siblings enlivened the meal considerably. They had only just begun on the puddings when Professor Snape suddenly blanched and stiffened in his chair. It is likely no one would have noticed had he not risen abruptly, cutting off one of Mr. Weasely's tales of bewitched teacups in muggle shops.

"Headmaster, do forgive me," Snape said, his voice tight. "I find I have left some unfinished work and I must attend to it at once, lest the entire effort be wasted." Not waiting for an answer, he nodded curtly to the table and swept from the Hall. Harry watched him go and thought he could see the man clutching his left forearm as he passed through the doorway.

The conversation which had checked at the sudden interruption resumed more quietly. After a few moments, Annwyl rose, looking rather pale. "While I have enjoyed the conversation enormously, I find I am still rather tired by the end of the day. Please excuse me. I believe I shall go back to my rooms before Madame Pomfrey finds it necessary to chase me there." She left amid a chorus of good nights.

Harry watched her and remembered the parchment she had dropped in the corridor. He had never told Professor Dumbledore about it and, as time passed, Harry began to feel it would be futile to mention it at all. Surely, her own godfather could not be expected to believe her as much a threat as the note implied. Harry might have taken it to Remus, but knowing how his father's old friend felt about this mysterious woman, Harry had no more hopes of being believed by Remus than he had of convincing Dumbledore. No, Harry decided, it would be best to keep a more private watch on the situation.

After dinner, Harry excused himself and slipped away to the dungeons to see Remus. Once he was fairly inside, Remus asked about Annwyl.

"She hasn't been to see me yet and I heard she was injured with Ron. Is she still recovering?

"Sort of," Harry answered. "She left dinner early tonight saying she was tired."

"I see. Well, I had thought you could go fetch her to join us, but perhaps not." Remus looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, maybe you could take a message to her for me, Harry. I'd like to know she's alright."

So, Harry set off, Remus' note in hand, and knocked on the Potions chamber door. Getting no response, he was about to slip the note under the door and go when he realized that the door stood slightly ajar from his knock. Looking around carefully to see if he was being watched, he pushed the door open and entered.

"Annwyl?" Harry looked around, listening. The chambers were empty.