Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of the Mind

HARRY POTTER AND THE LABYRINTH OF THE MIND

Chapter 15 - Cut Adrift

Harry watched the Fat Lady's portrait close behind his two best friends with little more than a growl of frustration. "Ron, you bloody well brought this on yourself," he muttered angrily, throwing himself into an armchair. He slumped into the chair, head thrown back, eyes closed. He didn't know how long he sat like that but he didn't open his eyes, even when he heard the sounds of other Gryffindors returning to the common room. Probably thinking he was sleeping, no one spoke to him. Indeed, there was little conversation at all, and what there was, was quiet murmurs Harry couldn't make out.

The murmuring continued and Harry simply sat, eyes closed, trying to sort through everything that had happened. It hardly seemed possible that it was still the same day in which they had all set out in the mid-March sunshine for Hogsmeade. He thought of Zonko's crowded little shop, the sound of chattering students nearly drowning the merry voice of Zonko, himself, as he waited on one student after another. Harry knew from experience that Zonko knew his young clientele by name and remembered their favorite purchases from one visit to the next. It was a matter of great relief to all students that, while Zonko knew all about their pranking habits, he was the very soul of discretion and never shared that information with any Hogwarts faculty or staff.

He thought of Honeydukes, which was practically a point of pilgrimage for any Hogsmeade visit. He thought back on the number of chocolate frogs and bags of Everyflavor Beans he had purchased from the elderly Mr. and Mrs. Honeyduke. Then, of course, there was the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosemerta could be a little sharp with her boisterous student patrons, but she was still looked upon as a favorite among them all for she was seldom without a supply of new humorous stories and jokes which she passed along to them all.

Harry wondered how much damage had actually been done in the village before the aurors had been able to restore order. He knew from what he'd seen that there had been considerable damage to the buildings near the spot where Percy had been confronted. From what Ron and Hermione had said, there must have been a great deal more damage he hadn't seen. He could remember hearing screaming coming from behind him as he faced Cho. That would mean something had happened at The Three Broomsticks. If the Death Eaters had been aiming for the more crowded shops, as was likely in such a twisted attack, the joke shop, candy store and book store would not have fared well, either. Several more students entered the common room and sat on a couch near Harry. Their conversation was audible to him and he recognized the voices of several third years, though he couldn't, at that moment, remember their names.

"...it was pretty bad. I heard she never made it out of the building," one whispered.

"Yeah. But she did get nearly everyone out of the pub before the roof fell in," added another.

"At least, they were able to run. The people in Zonko's never had a chance," a third voice added. The three sat silently a moment and the third voice went on. "I wonder if anyone will rebuild Zonko's and Honeydukes."

Harry slumped lower in his chair. Obviously, the damage done was far more extensive than Ron and Hermione had gotten around to telling him. He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly against their hot prickle, willing himself to control his shuddering and ragged breathing. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to run out the portrait hole and keep running. Harry thought of his Firebolt upstairs in his dorm. He could go out the window and no one would know. By the time they realized he was missing, he'd be far enough to keep from being found. His muscles tensed and he straightened slightly in his chair. His mind was buzzing. He could just run... But in the next second, the thought fled his mind as he heard a new voice enter the common room. Hermione was calling to him. He sat up fully, opening his eyes at last.

"Harry, please. Can I speak with you?" She stood before him holding a dinner plate, covered with a napkin. "I've brought you some dinner. Dobby insisted when you didn't come to the Hall. Let's go over to the window seat."

Harry grimaced and stood beside her. "Did Ron put you up to this?"

"No. He's in McGonagall's office with Ginny. They are talking with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley by floo. I imagine the whole family is pretty upset. Percy might have really hurt Ron and Ginny today." Hermione's eyes filled as she sat down on the window seat with Harry. "He's really upset about everything, Harry. That's why I wanted to talk to you. About what he said to you..."

"Wait, Hermione. Before you even start, just stop and think about what he said. First you two asked me what I was thinking. I told you, but Ron couldn't take it. I don't regret what I said. I meant every word." Harry's face darkened and he stared down at the untouched plate Hermione had brought. "If he can't stand to hear what I think, he shouldn't ask."

"I know, Harry. I know," she answered placatingly. "But try to see it from Ron's point of view. He was just attacked. By his brother. His brother, Harry." She gave him a piercing look. "How would you feel if Ron suddenly started casting curses at you?"

Harry turned away to the window. He couldn't help wondering what Hermione thought Ron had done, walking away like that. "I think I'd feel like my best friend turned on me," he muttered bitterly.

"Oh, Harry. He hasn't turned on you. Please, try to understand. Ron is so upset. He's taken all of this with Percy so well for so long. I think today was just too much. No matter what trouble it looked like Percy had gotten himself into, I guess Ron always believed that somehow, Percy would still come back to us. Escape whatever was influencing him that way." She sighed deeply. "What happened today has killed that hope, I think."

Harry toyed with the food, not wanting to answer. Ron probably was upset. He had good reason to be. Harry had the uncomfortable feeling that Hermione was about to ask him to apologize to Ron. He was not at all sure he was able to do that, even though he was beginning to feel, deep down, he should. Something in him was still raw and smarting, protesting that an apology was owed him, not the other way round. He gave a deep sigh which was nearly a groan.

"There has been so much death. So much pain, Hermione." He didn't look at her. His voice was so low she strained to hear. "So much. Much too much. It hurts so many... hurts so much..."

Harry was so lost in the dull ache; he hardly noticed when Hermione scooted close, her hand on his shoulder, her forehead resting on her hand. "Oh Harry, I know. It has been so awful... I know. Just please, please say something, anything to Ron. He is as miserable as you are about this, right now, I think. Please." Harry didn't answer and they sat in silence, looking out the window but seeing nothing.

Harry and Hermione hardly registered the sound of other people entering the room behind them but the silence of their place at the window was broken by the arrival of Ginny Weasley. She approached Hermione with a sad, forced sort of smile. "Ron is taking a bit of a walk. He promised he'd stay in the castle and wanted me to ask you to meet him outside the library in half an hour." She said nothing to Harry, but did turn one brief, sad glance toward him. Unsure what such a look meant, Harry didn't speak.

"Thanks, Ginny. How are your parents?" Hermione pushed Harry farther along the window seat, making a space on her other side for Ginny. "Has there been any word?"

"They're terribly upset," Ginny answered flatly. "Dad has already been meeting with the Order so he heard all about it from Kingsley Shacklebolt. He still insists that Percy must be under Imperius or something and that once the Order finds him, he can be brought back to his senses. Mum just keeps crying."

Hermione gave the pale girl beside her a squeeze. "Ginny, I really think you should try to rest. Dean has been looking for you but I haven't seen him come back into the common room yet. Why don't you leave him a note and go upstairs? I'm going to go find Ron." She rose, drawing Ginny to her feet as well. Turning to look at Harry, she asked, "Coming, Harry? I think now would be a good time."

Harry shook his head. "I can't do that Hermione." He turned away, avoiding the reproach in her eyes.

"Please, Harry. Ron needs you now," Hermione begged.

"Stop it, Hermione!" Ginny's voice was exasperated. "Ron told me Harry was being stupid. You know there's no reasoning with either of them. Just stop it!" She grabbed Harry's shoulder, pulling him around to face her. "And you! You of all people should know how important it is to stand together now. And look at yourself! Moping here like a kicked puppy because Ron isn't begging you to be friends." Her voice was growing steadily louder and the other Gryffindors were turning to stare as her words flayed Harry. "Ron said something brainless, no doubt, but I think he has ample excuse just now. Merlin knows, you've done more then your share of asinine things lately. You ought to be able to understand."

Harry could feel the heat in his cheeks as he rose from his seat. Why was it that every conversation he had with this girl recently had him furious and smarting from her whip-like tongue? He opened his mouth in protest, but Ginny's voice slashed on, unrelenting.

"Harry, when are you going to get it through your thick head that it isn't all about the Boy Who Bloody Lived? Voldemort may be after you, but he's not minding ruining a few other lives along the way, now is he?" She stopped, her face crimson in anger, her chest heaving. Around them, classmates looked on in horrified fascination, though many had paled visibly at Ginny's use of the Dark Lord's name. Harry, too, had gone quite ashen, though for different reason.

"Say it, Ginny," Harry ground out, his voice tense and low. "Go ahead and tell me what you think of me. You're dying to, aren't you? Say it. Say it all."

"No! Harry, you don't mean... Ginny, please. Both of you, this won't help," Hermione quavered, trying to step between them. Harry took her arm and gently drew her back out of the way. His eyes never left Ginny's face.

Ginny stood speechless a moment, her eyes flicking around at the gathered crowd as if seeing them for the first time. Squaring her shoulders, she met Harry's gaze. "You want to know what I really think of you, Harry Potter? Do you? I...I think you are..." Her strong pose crumbled suddenly, her voice breaking in a strangled sob. Turning, she plunged through the bystanders and raced up the stairs toward the girls' dormitories. Seconds later, the heavy slam of a door was heard.

***

Breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning was a silent affair. The house banners were all draped in black crepe. On either side of the great school crest behind the staff table hung pictures of the four students and the Professor lost in yesterday's attack. It seemed somehow particularly horrible to Harry, who sat alone near the end of the Gryffindor table, that the enchanted ceiling should be displaying the lovely, gentle sunshine of early spring. At such a time, the beauty seemed actually insulting. Hermione sat with Ron farther along the table and though she signaled hopefully, Harry could not bring himself to join them. He did, however, go so far as to nod in neutral sort of greeting to Ron as he sat down beside Hermione. Ron stared a moment but after a slight nudge from her, he returned the nod with equal gravity. Ginny sat apart from everyone at the opposite end of the table and Dean, Harry noticed, was making a poor pretense of eating with Seamus and Neville, opposite Harry. The headmaster was nowhere to be seen.

When most people had done breakfast, Professor McGonagall rose from her place at the staff table. She looked pale and tired, as if she hadn't slept much, if at all, the previous night. However, her expression was resolute.

"May I have your attention, please." She paused for a moment, allowing the scattered murmurs to fade away. "I know that many of you are anxious for tidings of friends injured in yesterday's attack in Hogsmeade. Although Madame Pomfrey is allowing no visitors to any of her patients at this time, she wishes me to inform you all that your classmates and Hogsmeade acquaintances are recuperating as well as can be hoped. She expects full recoveries for all her patients." The deputy headmistress cleared her throat and Harry was amazed to see her make a surreptitious swipe at her eyes before continuing. "However, I know you are aware that not all involved in yesterday's deplorable events were so fortunate. We mourn the loss of our friends and it is our intention to honor them this evening. You are all encouraged to join us here in the Hall at 7:30 p.m. for a memorial service for Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Susan Bones, Dennis Creevey and Professor Sinistra. In light of all that has taken place, I urge you all to make use of this time to console one another and to share fond memories of those we have lost." With many in the room now crying openly, Professor McGonagall took a shaky breath and departed the Hall.

Students rose quietly and left in twos and threes. Soon, Harry was nearly alone at his end of the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione had departed, Hermione looking pleadingly over her shoulder at Harry. He tried to give her an encouraging smile but would not rise to follow them. When he felt certain they would be out of sight, Harry left the Hall alone. He had no clear picture of where to go or what he could do to spend his time. Somehow, sitting up in the common room or worse, the library, studying, seemed a bit heartless. Finally, he settled on a walk around the quidditch pitch and set off out the large front doors. He wasn't out of sight of the buildings when Annwyl King joined him from a pathway leading up from the greenhouses.

"Harry, I'm glad I ran into you," she began as she fell into step beside him. "I'm sure it is the last thing you want to think about just now, but it could be important. What did you see during your lapse yesterday?" Harry looked sharply at her, but she answered the question before he could ask. "I knew because I saw Ron and Hermione bringing you back into the castle. You didn't seem to have an injury but you were looking somewhat the worse for wear, just the same."

"Well, yeah. I did have another lapse," Harry admitted. "It happened in Hogsmeade in the middle of the fight." He sighed in disgust. "Not very helpful to be falling on my face just then."

"Well?" Annwyl asked impatiently. "What did you see?"

Harry thought carefully for a moment. He wasn't at all sure it would be wise to tell the woman too much of what he was seeing. How much could he really trust to her? Finally, he opted for partial truth. "I saw Professor Dumbledore collapsed outside his office. Er... that was about it."

Annwyl stared at him intently for a moment. "Well, if that's all...I'm afraid it isn't of much use. We had located him before you even returned to the castle." She walked along deep in thought. "Isn't there anything else you can tell me, Harry?"

Harry shook his head and looked away. They had reached the quidditch pitch and Harry was hoping that Annwyl would leave him to a solitary walk. The last thing he wanted at this point was further conversation about yesterday with anyone, especially someone he couldn't wholly trust. Annwyl stood on the edge of the pitch a moment, watching Harry. Finally, she nodded, as if deciding something.

"Alright, Harry. But, please, if you see anything you think we could use, do tell someone. Remember, we need all the information we can get." She turned and walked slowly back toward the castle.

Harry spent much of the day wandering the grounds. Many of the other students were doing the same, but with so much space to wander, it was no matter of difficulty to steer clear of others. He didn't return to the castle until late afternoon. Then, he headed directly for Gryffindor tower, intending to get away to his room and behind the hangings on his own bed. There, he could be sure of relative privacy without any risk of any further conversation with Annwyl. The common room was dotted with knots of students talking quietly but they took no notice of Harry as he passed through the room, and he stopped to speak to no one. He was relieved to find his dorm empty. Harry had feared any close confinement with Ron just yet. True, they had exchanged civil, if not friendly, acknowledgement of one another at breakfast that morning, but conversation would be too uncomfortable and silence was likely to be much worse. With a weary sigh, Harry dropped onto his bed and drew the hangings tightly shut. Clearing his mind as well as he could, he surrendered himself to sleep.

***

From the size of the group collected in the Great Hall that evening, it appeared that the whole school had come to honor their fallen friends and their Professor. The great house tables had been removed and rows of chairs had taken their places. On the raised platform where the staff table generally stood, a small podium and several chairs were placed, facing the rows of chairs. Harry took a seat at the end of a row some way toward the back, among some of his Gryffindor classmates. He was surprised to see Dean sitting with Seamus. Ginny was not with them. To his even greater surprise, Hermione filed into the row behind his and led Ron to the two seats directly back of Harry's. Ron made no protest but greeted Harry with another nod as he had that morning. Noting Hermione's pleading eyes, Harry returned the nod with a quiet, "'Lo Hermione, Ron." Hermione's expression lifted and Ron was nearly surprised into a response. After a second's uncomfortable pause, he nodded again and looked away. Harry sighed and stared steadfastly forward.

Though the Hall was filled, there was little noise and even that shut off abruptly as several figures in formal dress robes filed up to the podium and the facing chairs. Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Professor Snape were seated on either side of the podium. The fifth chair directly behind the podium was taken by a very frail looking Albus Dumbledore. Harry could see that the headmaster was still far from well. The lined old face was gray and slack. The blue eyes were faded and shadowed. He looked thinner, smaller, somehow. Harry's stomach twisted as he watched Professor Dumbledore rise and come to the podium. It was a painful sight, causing an actual physical reaction in Harry and for a brief moment, he wondered if he'd have to make a run for the door to avoid being sick right where he sat. Swallowing hard and taking a few deep breaths helped the nausea recede somewhat, though his hands and face felt clammy and he shook a little as if with chill. With an effort, he concentrated on what Dumbledore was saying.

"We come together this evening to honor our own and to celebrate their lives among us. Though we suffer deeply from their loss, perhaps even more particularly for the terrible way in which they were taken from us, we give thanks that we had the privilege to serve and study with them and to call them friends. Tonight, we express our gratitude for the lives of Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Dennis Creevey and Josefina Sinistra. May we remember them well and fondly and never cease to honor their lives and their deaths with the very best that is in each of us."

The heads of each house then rose and spoke about their students, telling of their interests, their skills and praising those qualities by which they were credits to their houses and to their school. Harry couldn't help the unpleasant realization that Professor Snape was the only one who did not have to rise and speak. The suspicions which accompanied that realization were particularly unpleasant. Last, Professor Dumbledore rose again and spoke about Professor Sinistra - her achievements, her dedication and her affection for her students and her colleagues.

There followed, a procession of students and family members to the podium to speak, in tear choked voices of their lost loved ones and friends. The twist in Harry's stomach grew tighter with each speech. At last, he dragged his gaze from the podium and looked around the room in an attempt to regain control of the nausea which threatened him. Then, he noticed Draco Malfoy standing against the back wall near the large double doors. His face was drawn into the classic ferret sneer, his arms folded across his chest. Harry stared at the blonde boy with loathing and when Draco pushed away from the wall and slipped out the door, Harry was drawn by impulse to follow him out. Ignoring the questions in Hermione's and even Ron's eyes, he hurried along the side wall to the rear and out the door after Malfoy.

Once in the Entrance Hall, Harry saw Malfoy's shadow disappearing along the corridor leading to the dungeon stairs. Moving as quietly as he could, Harry followed. He assumed that Malfoy was, as yet, unaware he was being followed for he made no effort to move quietly. Harry could hear his footsteps plainly on the stone staircase. So, Harry dropped back to be sure he would be hidden by shadows and followed by hearing. Remembering back to his second year when he and Ron had taken Polyjuice potion to pass as Crabbe and Goyle, Harry thought he remembered the turnings which would take them to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Expecting his quarry would be heading there, Harry began to question himself. What could he hope to gain by following Draco Malfoy? He could remember the way to the Slytherin dorms, so he didn't need to follow Malfoy for that. They were approaching the short hallway which would take them to the Slytherin entrance and Harry had nearly turned around to head back the way he had come when he realized that Draco had walked on past the turning. Additionally, the boy was now moving more stealthily, his feet making little noise along the corridor. Harry drew slightly closer and followed along.

As they moved deeper into the dungeons, the lamps on the walls gave way to rough torches, widely spaced and giving a flickering orange light. They soon passed the corridor which would lead to Remus' hideaway and then, Harry was beyond his knowledge of the maze of corridors which crisscrossed the dungeons. He began to worry about finding his way out when the slight sounds of Malfoy's feet stopped. Harry instantly halted as well and, peering through the dim light as well as he could, tried to see where his quarry might have gone. The corridor was long and wide but had no niches or intersecting hallways that Harry could see. Moving forward carefully, Harry scanned the walls for any signs of a door that Draco might have used but found nothing. After about ten meters, the corridor stopped in a dead end, still with no signs of an opening anywhere. Clearly, Draco knew of a secret passage, but though Harry could picture the Marauder's Map quite well, he couldn't recall any passages this low in the dungeons. Realizing it was dangerous to risk being caught lurking around the dungeons, Harry turned and made his way back and into the Entrance Hall.

Upon reaching it, Harry found the memorial service had ended and most students were already gone from the Great Hall. He was just climbing the first staircase when a voice hailed him.

"Harry, have you got a moment?" Dean Thomas was jogging up the stairs toward Harry. "I'd like to have a word with you if you don't mind."

"Er... okay. C'mon, maybe we can find a couple of chairs by the fire."

"No, I'd rather we find somewhere more private," Dean replied. "Look, the classrooms are empty. That'll do." He turned into the first room he came to and lit several candles with his wand. Harry followed, feeling rather confused. "Close the door, would you, Harry?"

Once seated at a couple of facing desks in the closed room, Dean seemed reluctant to begin whatever it was he had been so anxious to tell Harry. Harry squirmed a little, expecting some sort of dressing down over his row with Ginny the night before. He liked Dean and hadn't been upset, as Ron had, over seeing him with Ginny and he really didn't want to have to have any sort of angry discussion about his dorm mate's girlfriend.

"Harry," Dean began at last, "you know that I'm not the kind to interfere with another bloke's problems, yeah? I mean, I know you and Ginny haven't been getting along lately, but I sort of figured that it was between you two. I've never had any problem with you, and I didn't want to stick my nose in where it wasn't wanted." He paused, looking more uncomfortable than ever.

"You're right, Dean." Harry said quietly. "Ginny and I haven't been getting along all that well and, frankly, I appreciate your not interfering. There isn't anything you could do anyway. But, what is it you needed to talk to me about, then?"

"Well, you see, er... It's only that Ginny has broken up with me, Harry. She's really upset over Percy and everything, and she says she just doesn't want to be with anyone right now." Dean scrubbed his eyes with his hand, tiredly. "I reckon it is for the best. I like Ginny a lot, but I don't understand her. She's hurting, anyone can see that, and I want to help. But I just can't get near her. I'm beginning to think that I never could. That's not a situation that either of us need. Especially now when Ginny needs someone to talk to. So, as I said, it is probably for the best."

"Erm... I'm really sorry to hear that, Dean..." Harry began, perplexed.

"No, wait. That isn't what I needed to tell you," Dean interrupted. "When Ginny and I were talking, well, and really for a while now even before we talked, I got the impression that aside from hurting over Percy, she's just really, really angry. And here's the thing, Harry. I think she's really angry at you."

"Me?" Harry sighed deeply. "Well, that isn't really news, Dean. I mean, nearly everyone in Gryffindor heard us fighting last night."

"It's more than that, mate. I got the impression as she was talking about Percy and Ron and all that, well, she blames you. Somehow, I think she is blaming you for Percy and the mess he's in." Harry's shoulders slumped and he looked up at Dean with a pained expression. "I know it's crazy sounding, Harry, but I thought you should know."