Nothing Hidden

The car halted. Harry looked up, but there was nothing to see except darkness outside the car window. He may as well have been at the bottom of a deep well.

For all he knew, he was.

The door opened and Mr. Weasley helped him out. He attempted to pry Hedwig's cage out of Harry's locked fingers, but Harry's grip remained firm. With a hand on Harry's shoulder, Mr. Weasley guided him down a narrow path.

As they came out from behind a grove of trees, a full moon burst through the clouds and Harry saw in front of him the unmistakable silhouette of Hogwarts. The school was completely dark and looked eerie in the night.

They made their way to the main entrance, where the tall oak door was firmly locked. Mr. Weasley knocked twice, the sounds echoing deep inside the school through the silent and empty halls. For many minutes there was no answer, then the door swung open. They stepped into the dark entrance hall.

The doorway leading to the Great Hall was to the right, but Mr. Weasley lead Harry to a small chamber off the hall, to the left. He pulled a chair and compelled Harry to sit down.

"You will he safe here, Harry," he said in a soothing tone, but not managing to sound convinced of his own words. "I must return to the Ministry as soon as possible."

He seemed to wait for several moments, but Harry did not answer. His arms were still tightly wrapped around Hedwig's cage, and he stared at a spot on the floor, thought in the darkness he could not see the floor at all.

Mr. Weasley fumbled with something at the doorway, and a weak light from a single candle began to cast quivering shadows across the small room. After another pause, during which he seemed to be thinking of something else to say, Mr. Weasley left the room, his footsteps echoing loudly.

Mr. Weasley spent several minutes in hushed conversation with someone. Harry could not catch the words, perhaps because the roar in his head was increasing in magnitude. But he did hear the castle door swing shut with a deep thud.

No one came.

In the small room, surrounded by flickering yellow light from the candle, Harry felt blood rush to his head. The roar that had filled his head for many hours intensified, the pounding in his temples felt like a hammer. His heart was racing, his face bathed in cold sweat. He had felt something like this before, when he had collapsed in Divination during third year, but this was more intense, more painful. The room began a sickening rolling motion, like a small boat on a turbulent sea. Suddenly it tilted at a crazy angle, and Harry would have tumbled to the floor if not for the firm hand that had descended on his shoulder.

For several moments he tried to catch his breath. His vision began to clear, and he no longer felt himself in danger of collapsing to the floor.

He looked up.

Professor Snape towered above him, his thin face more pale in the dim candlelight than Harry had ever seen it. His countenance was unreadable.

"Put down that cage, Potter," Snape said in a low but expressionless voice, "and take this." He held out a cup.

Harry obeyed automatically. Four years of dealing with Snape had taught him not to hesitate.

He looked into the cup, which seemed to be filled with a dark, hot liquid. Enough sense had returned to him that he was suspicious of what the cup might contain.

A potion? No, only strong tea. He drank it in several large gulps.

Snape seemed to have backed away from him, toward the door. If Harry had seen his expression he would have surmised that Snape was unprepared to deal with the situation that had been dropped in his lap.

"Dumbledore is on his way," he finally said. "He was delayed at the Ministry."

Harry nodded, not because he comprehended, but as an automatic response. He wished Snape would leave. The small, dark room was oppressive, as if the walls might close in on him. Snape's presence filled up vital space, the air he needed to breathe.

Snape left. The room fell silent, becoming more oppressive rather than less so. Harry felt frozen again, anchored to the chair, his muscles tense, afraid to move lest he make a sound and disturb the uncanny stillness that had once again descended upon Hogwarts.

How long he sat that way — minutes, hours — he had no way of knowing, only that sometime later there was a flurry of sound and voices, bright lights, and finally, Dumbledore appeared in front of him. Harry saw only his feet and the hem of his brilliant blue robes, until Dumbledore lifted Harry's face, forcing him to look up. The old wizard's eyes were sad and worried.

"I'm afraid I can't stay long, Harry. I'm needed at the Ministry." He paused. "No doubt you understand what has happened."

Harry nodded numbly.

"Your aunt and cousin . . ." Dumbledore's voice trailed off.

"Dead." Harry's voice lacked any emotion. It was a statement, not a question he needed answered.

"Yes," Dumbledore's voice was gentle, as if by lowering his voice he was attempting to soften the blow he imagined his words would cause.

But Harry was not yet capable of feeling. He had only thawed enough to be wondering what would happen to him, now that summer with the Dursleys was no longer a possibility.

"We must decide quickly what is to be done with you, Harry," Dumbledore seemed to have read his mind.

"Where can I go? The Weasleys?" Harry was hopeful. Even in this terrible time he longed for the warm atmosphere at The Burrow.

"No. Arthur Weasley is needed at the Ministry. You would not be safe there at this time."

"Sirius," Harry whispered, knowing already what the answer would be.

"No, Harry, he cannot protect you now."

Harry stayed silent. There was no other place he could suggest.

"If only it were not summer . . . but that cannot be helped. Harry, I suspect that for the next few weeks the Ministry will be in chaos, unable to provide for your safety. You must remain at Hogwarts. Deserted as it is, I still believe it is the safest place for you."

Harry nodded, the knot in his throat preventing him from speaking.

"I cannot be here, as I said, and most of the staff are gone. All who remain are Madam Pomfrey, Professor Trelawney, and Professor Snape." Dumbledore eyed Harry with a worried expression, but Harry did not move or speak. Dumbledore sighed. "There seems to be no choice Harry, we must keep you safe, and for the moment I have nothing else to offer you."

The pained expression on Dumbledore's face momentarily brought Harry out of his stupor.

"It's alright, Professor," he said in what he hoped was a voice that did not tremble. "I'll be fine."

"I'm glad to hear that, Harry," the weary expression remained on Dumbledore's face, "because I must leave you now."

Harry nodded, feeling the chill return to him.

Dumbledore left the room, but left the torch he had brought with him. The room was now light, although Dumbledore's exit had left it dismal and still. Harry could hear Dumbledore moving about in the entrance hall, and voices, but no words reached him. He heard the castle door shut.

Before Harry could regress to his stupor, Snape swept into the room, his billowing robes causing the candle to snuff out and the torch light flicker. He seemed to have a new purpose and determination.

"Up, Potter, and follow me," he ordered.

Harry stood up, grasped Hedwig's cage in one hand, and followed Snape.

He thought they would ascend the marble staircase, but Snape walked passed it into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was so dark that Snape's torch made only a small circle of light around them as they walked. At the other end Snape muttered a password and a panel opened in the wall directly behind where the staff sat at meal times. A staircase was within, spiraling downward into a black pit.

Harry was too numb and too tired to do anything but follow Snape blindly as they descended the narrow staircase to the dungeons. The walls turned from white marble to wet granite, and finally they reached the bottom. It seemed to be a maze of passageways and corridors, lit by torches that cast a flickering orange glow. They went down first one corridor and then another, and at one junction Harry thought he recognized the hallway leading to the Potions classrooms. They veered away down another corridor and finally came to an oak door. Snape pulled it open and ushered Harry inside.

This, thought Harry, must be where Snape lives.

It was a large room, lit by a torch at each corner. The room was sparsely furnished, the stone floor bare. Harry shivered involuntarily.

"Sit, Potter," Snape pointed to the bed.

Harry sat.

Snape moved about the room, muttering incomprehensible words at certain objects, moving papers from the top of his desk to a drawer; until finally he seemed satisfied that all was in its rightful place.

"This is the only properly protected room at the moment," said Snape with evident disgust, either because he felt that every Hogwarts room ought to be so protected, or because the fact that they were not protected meant that he had to give up his own room to Harry.

"I am securing the door behind me. Do not attempt to leave this room, and do not open this door." He was clearly convinced that Harry would do exactly this as soon as the opportunity presented itself. He did not wait for Harry's answer, but turned and stalked out of the room, the door shutting with a thump behind him without his hand ever touching the doorknob.

Left alone again, Harry took in his surroundings dully. His head had stopped throbbing, but he was exhausted. After placing Hedwig's cage on a table away from any possible drafts, Harry regarded the bed. Sighing, he admitted to himself that there was no other furniture in the room suitable for sleeping, and the cold stone floor was out of the question. Still fully clothed, he climbed into bed and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.