Harry Potter and the Silent Siege

swishandflick

Story Summary:
Little Whinging fireman Henry Middleton never saw anything as strange as the day No. 4 Privet Drive burned down with everything else left standing; for Lord Voldemort, who has finally found a way to break Dumbledore's old magic, killing Harry was too easy, but did he really succeed? Why is Ginny Weasley having nightmares and why is Snape the acting headmaster? Broomstick chases, deadly dueling, and a Guy Fawkes ball are just some of the things facing our heroes in their sixth year at Hogwarts. Original A/U version with Sirius. R/H, H/G.

Chapter 15

Chapter Summary:
Little Whinging fireman Henry Middleton never saw anything as strange as the day No. 4 Privet Drive burned down with everything else left standing; for Lord Voldemort, who has finally found a way to break Dumbledore’s old magic, killing Harry was too easy, but did he really succeed? Why is Ginny Weasley having nightmares and why is Snape the acting headmaster? Broomstick chases, deadly dueling, and a Guy Fawkes ball are just some of the things facing our heroes in their sixth year at Hogwarts. R/H, H/G. Chapter 15 – As both Voldemort and Dumbledore reach a critical stage in their plans, Ginny must make a difficult request of Harry.
Posted:
09/22/2003
Hits:
1,347
Author's Note:
Thanks to NightSpear, Unga, dlapo, Lizzy, eponine-in-training, Trisha, Kleiwer, and Cindale for reviewing Chapter 14! Some of you expressed confusion about the Synchronis Totalis curse. I have added a detailed explanation in the review thread for this chapter that all of you can check out when you review (you will review, right?) or you can go back and look at Chapter 8 where Nevins first explains the spell. This chapter is probably the darkest and creepiest of the fic so you might want to get some antacid for the read. But don't fret! There's still several chapters left and anything could happen :*) Please remember that we're still A/U here and Ginny does not know about Sirius. Happy reading!

Chapter 15

Secrets and Lies

Ginny stared for the moment at the reflection of front of her. After her initial screams, she had gone completely silent. She felt an oddly numbing sensation criss-cross the front of her body and found she was unable to move.

Tom continued to regard her calmly.

"Surely you remember the duels, Ginny? You remember them in your waking moments. Haven't you been taught anything about controlling your dreams? I suppose I should have expected no better from a family of Muggle lovers."

Ginny didn't respond. She continued to stare.

"We used to be such good friends, you and I," Tom said, in a strangely high voice. "You used to tell me I was the best friend you'd ever had. Perhaps we could have been friends much longer if it weren't for Harry."

"Harry saved my life!" Ginny said suddenly.

"I suppose that's what he told you."

"It was true, I was there. I woke up, I remember!" Ginny clenched her fists and felt her defiance grow. She remembered now. Tom Riddle was not her friend. He had tricked and manipulated her and he was trying to do it again.

"Have it your way," said Riddle, almost nonchalantly. "It must make Harry feel very powerful, holding this wizard debt over you so many years."

"He didn't want it!"

"Then why, Ginny, did he try to save your life, since you're so sure that's what he was doing?"

"Y - you wouldn't understand."

"That's what I like to hear, Ginny, a little hesitation." Riddle's lip curled up in a snarl again. "But my time is precious and I have little to waste indulging your stupid curiosities. I need you to help me."

"I'll never help you."

Riddle's jaw hardened. "You're making me disappointed, Ginny."

"So what?" Ginny replied, but she suddenly felt herself start to tremble.

Riddle pushed his head even closer to his side of the mirror so that Ginny was sure for a moment he would rush out and grab his hands around her throat. She wanted to step back herself but found that she still couldn't move. Her heart began to beat very fast.

And then Tom Riddle said very softly:

"Think about it, Ginny. The fear. The nightmares. You could end them all. You never have to be afraid of me again. All I ask is that you help me with one small thing. You see, Ginny, we have a very powerful bond, you and I. I know you: where you go, what you are thinking. But I can't really be with you myself, much as I'd like it. I can't always tell the difference between what's in your mind and what's really there. Your feelings for Harry are very strong; they're very real to you. But I know you know the difference. I just need you to give me a small sign, to tell me, in your mind, whether Harry is with you or not."

Ginny didn't respond. She looked at Tom closely. It did seem very simple. And all of her fears could end. She wouldn't have to fight Tom Riddle after all. She wouldn't have to try to be strong and resist him. And she wouldn't need Harry to protect her. She could just give in. All she had to do was be a good girl and do as she was told, just like when she had strangled the roosters and called for the Basilisk. All she would have to do was to tell him about Harry and -

"You liar!" she spat suddenly. "You want to kill Harry!"

Tom Riddle moved his head away slightly, as if he had been slapped across the face. He suddenly looked very hurt.

"Poor Ginny," he said after a moment. "Is that what they've told you? I only want to help Harry - and you - to realize what you truly are."

"And why do you care so much about me?"

"Didn't I tell you, Ginny?" replied Riddle. "We're close friends, you and I. I want to be close to Harry, too, only he won't let me. Don't you think you can help me just a little now," he asked very sweetly, "after all I've done for you?"

"No," said Ginny, trying desperately to see through the affronted expression on Riddle's face. "You're not telling me everything. You're afraid of me."

Riddle's hurt expression was replaced with a sneer. "And why would I be afraid of a pathetic little girl who walks around in day dreams all day long?"

"I don't know," Ginny replied. "But I know you are. You can see me? I can see you now, too. You've made a mistake. There's something you hadn't planned. You need me to help you but you're also afraid of me. I don't know why but you are."

For the first time since he had appeared, Tom Riddle seemed at a loss for words. His eyes darted back and forth as if he was looking to escape. But this only lasted for a moment. Then his jaw hardened again and his cheeks turned red in fury.

"I tried to be nice to you, Ginny, but four years and you're still an ungrateful little brat! If you don't help me, I might just have to tell Harry our little secret."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

But Ginny felt herself start to shake very hard.

Tom Riddle smiled a horribly false smile. "You forget, Ginny. I know everything about you now. I know what you told Harry after you woke up in the Chamber. You said the last thing you remembered was seeing me come out of the diary. But we both know that isn't true, don't we, or maybe you really don't remember?"

Ginny didn't reply again. It seemed much harder to breathe now.

"You're very much afraid now, aren't you, Ginny?" Riddle smiled. "How well I remember just what your fear smelled like."

Ginny couldn't stand to look at Tom Riddle anymore. Her heart pounding loudly in her chest, she tore her head away from the mirror, more out of fear than will. She looked around the bathroom. Suddenly, a chair appeared next to her where she'd never remembered one before. Her muscles weighted down with the lead of sleep, Ginny nonetheless found a way to grab hold of the chair and hold it over her head.

"You want me to go, Ginny?" asked Tom. "How sad. But you must know I'll never really leave you."

Ginny brought the chair down hard and waited for the sound of mirror to smash but before the chair could make contact, something seemed to hold it back.

"Never," said Tom again.

Ginny drew the chair back again and flung it even harder at the mirror but still it did not break.

Tom laughed.

Ginny flung the chair harder. Again. And again. And again.

"Ginny! Ginny! GINNY!"

Ginny's eyes snapped open.

She was kneeling on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, clutching the side of a wooden-backed chair in both of her hands. Amanda was holding the other end and seemed to be restraining her, with great effort, from doing a great deal of damage to the chair, the floor, or her roommate. Amanda's eyes were wide. She looked very scared.

Ginny put the chair down and stared open-mouthed at her friend.

"Ginny, are you all right?" asked Amanda.

"What - what happened?"

"I don't know." Amanda shook her head. "I was looking at the potion. You fell asleep on the table. Then the next thing I knew you were down on the floor and trying to throw that chair or something. I thought you were going to hurt yourself. And you kept screaming 'No, no.' I - I guess you were having a nightmare."

The look on Amanda's face told Ginny right away that she did not find this a particularly convincing explanation.

Ginny was suddenly aware that doors all around them were opening as many of their fellow Gryffindors strode out of their dormitories bleary-eyed, trying to find the source of the shouting that had awakened them. Still on the floor, Ginny watched as the door to the sixth-year boy's dormitory opened above her, and Harry walked out clutching his forehead in pain. He took one look at Ginny and ran down the stairs, his eyes darting around at the other Gryffindor students, who continued to stare at the scene half-asleep.

"Ginny," he said urgently, kneeling beside her. "Are you all right?"

It was more than Ginny could take. It no longer mattered to her whether Harry meant his concern out of friendship or love and for that moment she was no longer interested in shielding herself against the emotional consequences of his rejection. She felt a wave of heat start in her chest, rise up through her throat, and burn her cheeks. A painful lump followed and soon tears started to run down her face. She sobbed loudly.

"Harry," she said. "Oh, Harry."

Ginny flung her arms around Harry and held on to him as though he were the only piece of dry land left in a stormy sea.

Harry felt a sudden wave of claustrophobia rush over him as Ginny grabbed him unexpectedly into a vice-like grip. His face became very hot as he had the sudden irrational sensation of dozens of Gryffindor eyes boring into his back. He tried to release his grip on Ginny but she held on more tightly.

"Please please please don't let go of me," she whispered into his ear.

For one moment, Harry was sure he had not really heard Ginny say this. The next he felt as if the world had closed in all around him. His heart beating very fast, Harry forced himself out of the embrace. Before Ginny could respond, however, he grabbed hold of her shoulders, looked into her scared brown eyes, and said with all of the authority he could muster:

"Ginny, we have to go to see Professor McGonagall right now."

Ginny just looked at Harry for a moment, tears still running down her cheeks. Then she nodded.

***

Voldemort pushed his face back from the cauldron and sat back hard on the ground, panting. The girl was becoming much more powerful now: he had always been able to control others but there were moments when it had seemed she had been controlling him. He knew he had come very close to losing himself completely through the diary. He had no longer been peering into someone else's life. He had fully believed that he was his own destroyed memory just as surely as the memory had believed it was him.

But after these fears had subsided, the Dark Lord afforded himself a smile. He had survived after all, hadn't he? And so what if the girl knew there was a flaw in his arrangements? She didn't know what it was, after all, and she would probably never tell anyone about her nightmares. After all, Voldemort himself never had done. That just made them real.

And she would tell herself he had failed. She would think she had resisted him. She would think she would never tell him where Harry was. She would never suspect that he could use her own emotions against her, that her own love for Harry and fear that Voldemort would find him would drive Harry right into his hands.

She had fallen straight into his trap.

***

Harry led Ginny briskly down the corridors to McGonagall's office. Neither had said a word since they had left the Gryffindor common room. They couldn't go on like this, thought Harry. He had to find out what had happened to Ginny before they reached McGonagall's office. He already felt horribly guilty about pushing Ginny away from him. He didn't want to her suffer and he had a feeling she had suffered a great deal that night. He thought of making some gesture of friendship, touching her shoulder or even holding her hand, just this once, but whenever he'd thought he'd made up his mind to do either of those things, a horrible icy sensation seemed to grow in his stomach again.

Having reached a logical impasse, Harry's mind wandered back to the previous events of the night. He remembered lying in his bed awake, trying not to fall asleep, listening for some unusual sound, feeling almost a little stupid as he did so. The next thing he remembered he was back at the graveyard facing Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He had had this dream many times and in a little part of his mind, he knew he was not awake when he ought to have been but this thought was not enough to arouse him. He and Voldemort had begun to duel. Harry had looked down at his wand and seen it vibrate. There had been a link between his wand and Voldemort's just as there had that night when Cedric had died. When Harry had looked up again, he found that he was not facing Voldemort at all, but Professor Nevins.

A bead of light had traveled from his own wand to Nevins'. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had seemed very frightened indeed but at last he had been able to hold his wand with both hands and the light had directed back to Harry. Nevins had then looked expectantly back at Harry. Harry had known that it was now his turn to respond but somehow he couldn't quite do it. His wand had started to shake and a beam had risen up and hit him in the forehead. His scar had seared with pain and a voice inside his head had cried: "No! No!"

It was then that Harry had woken up and realized that the voice he had thought was inside his head was coming from out in the common room. He had been slow to react at first but then he had thrown on his cloak and walked out of the door to his room to see Ginny and her roommate on the floor. He had known at once that this wasn't quite normal and then he had remembered Sirius' letter and he had known what he had to do.

But he didn't know what had really happened to Ginny and he needed to find out.

No sooner had he thought this than Ginny said:

"Harry."

Harry turned around quickly to look at her. She looked very frightened.

"I - I'm sorry I held on so tightly like that. I was - "

"It doesn't matter," said Harry quickly. "Ginny, please tell me what happened to you."

Ginny looked away and didn't say anything for a moment. Then she stopped walking. Harry stopped, too, and turned to face her. Ginny looked down at the floor, the torturous storm in her eyes hidden for a moment for his view. Then she looked up again:

"Harry, I'm not sure but I think that Tom Riddle, I think that Vol - Vol - that You-Know-Who might be trying to possess me again."

Harry instinctively took a step away from Ginny.

"But - but how? That diary - it was destroyed. I destroyed it."

Ginny looked at Harry. It was the first time he had ever talked to her about anything that had happened down in the Chamber. And she could see from the expression on his face that he knew it, too.

"I don't know," she said. "But I think it must be possible."

She started to walk again. Harry followed her.

"Ever - ever since this summer, I've been having these nightmares. It - it's the same every time. At least it was - until tonight." Ginny took a deep breath and told Harry about her dreams of the dueling between Tom Riddle and himself, looking steadily down at the stone floor of the hallways as she did so. Then she told him about the nightmare she'd had that night, omitting any parts about her crush on Harry, and several other things Tom had said which she found she could hardly bring herself to recall, let alone tell Harry.

"And then there were the headaches when I went to Hogsmeade, under the gate and in the shop - I just - I just - I don't know, Harry. I'm really scared."

"And you didn't tell anyone?" said Harry.

"Well, I thought they were just nightmares. I mean, after all, I've been dreaming about the Chamber for years now." Ginny avoided looking at Harry again as she said this. "But after tonight, I'm just not sure anymore. The nightmares just aren't like normal dreams. They're so real."

Ginny shuddered. In her dream, everything had seemed so cloudy but now she remembered all of her nightmares as clear as day, just as she always did when she woke up. Maybe he wanted it that way. She grew angry as she realized how skillfully he had manipulated her, just like his younger self, the one moment filling her with guilt, the next fear. Just like he had when he'd forced her to watch him killing Harry over and over again in their duels.

The duels, thought Ginny to herself suddenly. Why had he made her watch all of those duels? Did he just want to weaken her? Ginny knew that Voldemort was afraid of her somehow; she could sense it. But she didn't know why. Yet something told her it had to do with all of those duels. Ginny had the sudden impression that she had all of the pieces of a puzzle but she didn't know how to put them together.

"I know," Harry suddenly broke into her thoughts. "That's why we have to see McGonagall."

"But what made you think of going to see McGonagall?" Ginny frowned suddenly as if the question had just occurred to her.

It was now Harry's turn to avoid Ginny's gaze. He wanted to tell her about Sirius and the letter. He felt she deserved to know. But it wasn't his choice to tell her.

"My scar," he finally said. "It was burning. That's why I woke up. It's too much of a coincidence. Besides," he added darkly. "I've had dreams like that, too, before."

They kept walking.

"Harry," Ginny said after a few more moments. "He - he hasn't succeeded this time. He tried to make me lead him to you but I wouldn't let him and I won't."

"Of course you wouldn't."

"I mean, Harry," Ginny went on, exasperated. "He's not possessing me. I know. I remember what it was like. There aren't any blank moments. There aren't any times I can't account for."

"I know, Ginny. Don't worry. We'll just talk to McGonagall and everything will be O.K."

Ginny and Harry looked at each other briefly and Harry tried to put on a brave smile. But Ginny wondered whether he had read between the lines of her words and heard the desperate fear in her voice that Harry would avoid her, that he would be afraid to go anywhere near her, for fear she would lead him to the same fate as his family. For months now, she had forced her love for Harry to the back of her mind, had tried hard not to examine their growing friendship, not to hope for too much, for fear that it would distract her from her O.W.Ls. But one horrible nightmare later, a series of school tests didn't seem important after all. She was sure that what she needed now was Harry.

They had reached the door to McGonagall's room. Harry knocked. There was no answer. He tried again. Finally, after a few minutes had passed, he could hear footsteps coming slowly toward the door. Another long period of waiting seemed to follow before the door slowly opened and Professor McGonagall's spectacled face appeared clad in tartan slippers and wearing rollers and a hair net that bore an uncanny resemblance to Aunt Petunia's.

"I suppose you two have a very good reason for disturbing me at this hour."

"Yes," replied Harry without hesitation.

McGonagall nodded slowly. "Then I suppose you had better come in."

***

A few minutes later, Ginny and Harry were sitting on two large soft armchairs in McGonagall's living room. McGonagall drew herself up in a rocking chair and flicked her wand absently at the fire in the hearth which grew into full flame and then at the table in between Harry and Ginny, where two warm glasses of milk and some shortbread appeared.

"Drink. Eat," McGonagall ordered drowsily. "It will wake you up." She adjusted her half-moon glasses. "So, Potter, Weasley, what seems to be the matter?"

"Ginny's been having nightmares," said Harry immediately.

There was a long pause as McGonagall peered down at Harry from behind her glasses. She did not appear very impressed.

"Very well," she said. "Miss Weasley, please tell me about your nightmares."

Ginny once again launched into a nervous account of the dreams she had experienced since the past summer, this time omitting altogether the dream she had had the night of the Guy Fawkes ball. After she had finished, both she and Harry looked up at their head of house expectantly.

For a moment, McGonagall's lips drew together tightly and she studied Ginny quite seriously. But then she sighed and a ghost of a smile played across her mouth. Harry was normally pleased to see McGonagall smile like this because it usually meant reprieve from some form of punishment or a general amnesty from homework. But this time he found himself very much disconcerted.

"Miss Weasley, I take that you have a Potions O.W.L. tomorrow morning?"

Ginny nodded and then sighed slightly herself.

McGonagall's face broke into a motherly smile.

"My dear child," she said, in a half-whisper. "None of us would wish upon our worst enemies what was visited upon you your first year at this school. And you have and will always have my deepest sympathy. But Hogwarts is safe from outside intrusion. It has been that way for hundreds of years. There is no way that Lord Voldemort could have penetrated your mind while you were sleeping here. The diary in which his memory was once trapped was completely destroyed by Mr. Potter and the Chamber of Secrets has long been sealed."

"But Professor McGonagall," Harry protested. "She was down on the floor screaming! It wasn't just an ordinary nightmare. She's had them before!"

"Nightmares often seem real, Mr. Potter." McGonagall stared at him a little coldly.

"But - but," Harry said again. "The school's been attacked loads of times, even since I've been a student. What about Professor Quirrell? And Sirius coming into our bedroom? And - and Professor Moody?"

"As I think you know, Mr. Potter, in each of the cases you describe, there was someone on the inside abetting the culprit. That is the only way anyone would be able to penetrate Hogwarts."

"But there's someone on the inside now, isn't there?" said Harry, his voice rising. "If he's possessing Ginny, he wants her - "

"Mr. Potter, that is enough!" cried McGonagall shrilly. "I will not have you contributing further to the already frazzled state of Miss Weasley's nerves!"

"Me? Contributing to....?" Harry cried, his voice croaking with the injustice of McGonagall's words. "I'm trying to help her."

McGonagall's voice softened slightly. "I've no doubt you are, Mr. Potter. And I also sympathize very much with your own situation."

"Yeah," said Harry, a little hollowly, and he sank back in the armchair sulking.

"Now, Miss Weasley," said McGonagall, turning to Ginny and ignoring Harry's reaction. "You have a test tomorrow and I expect you must be extremely anxious about it. It is very natural that your resting mind would find someone to personify those anxieties. And it is also natural that, for you, that person would be Tom Riddle."

Ginny nodded.

Harry, however, was less impressed by McGonagall's attempts at amateur psychology.

"Then how do you explain the fact she had most of her nightmares over the summer?" he demanded. "Surely she wasn't under a lot of stress then!"

"She may well have been, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said acidly. "Now, I have indulged your visit to my room at three o'clock in the morning. I consider that I have been extremely patient with you under the circumstances. But I must warn you that a further outburst could cost you house points."

Harry looked back at McGonagall in disbelief. "I don't care about stupid house points!"

"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter," McGonagall retorted. "I have responsibility to protect my students and the order in this school and I will not allow you to jeopardize either. Now, if you don't mind, I think all of us could do with some rest. I know that Miss Weasley in particular will be hard pressed to take her test tomorrow on very little sleep."

"Fine, I just thought you might have been able to help, that's all." Harry got up and strode toward the door.

"Thank you, Professor," Ginny said quickly, before McGonagall had chance to respond. "I'm very grateful for your help. I think I'll sleep easier now. Good night."

And then she stood up and joined Harry who had waited for her by the door. Ginny turned once again and gave McGonagall a half-smile and then she and Harry walked out into the hallway.

***

McGonagall closed the door behind them and locked it. She waited until she'd heard Potter and Weasley's footsteps disappear down the hall and then turned her back to the door and sighed heavily. The color which had risen in her cheeks in anger at Potter subsided very quickly. She took her glasses off and chewed one of the ends slowly in her mouth. She wasn't sure about Potter and Weasley, but she doubted that she would get any sleep at all for the remainder of the night.

She crossed over to the roaring fireplace, her slippers echoing noisily on the stone floor from her suddenly urgent footsteps. She quickly picked up a handful of floo powder from a stone urn at the side of the fireplace decorated in the shape of a Gryffin and cast it haphazardly into the flames.

"Severus Snape," she said clearly.

***

The hallway leading from Professor McGonagall's rooms to the stairs up to Gryffindor Tower was silent but for the clicking of two sets of footsteps on the stone floor and the occasional sound from Harry that reminded Ginny very much of the dragons with which her brother Charlie worked.

"Harry, I didn't believe McGonagall. You know that, don't you?"

Harry looked up suddenly. He did not say anything but Ginny could see right away that he hadn't.

"Oh, Harry," she said. "It's not always best to fight. Sometimes it's just easier this way."

Harry didn't say anything for a moment again but then he sighed.

"I'm really sorry, Ginny. I really thought McGonagall would help us. I can't understand why she acted that way."

"You have too much faith in them," said Ginny. "McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the others. They don't see everything, Harry, believe me. I know."

"I just feel like I let you down."

"You didn't let me down, Harry. You tried your best and I know you'll keep trying. And I feel a lot better, really."

Don't you see, Ginny went on. I don't care about McGonagall. I don't think she can do anything, anyway. You cared about me. Just a few of your words are worth a hundred insults from Tom Riddle. For once, I don't feel alone. I would feel even better if you kept talking to me now or touched me or held me. Would it really be so hard for you?

It was not until Ginny had finished ranting that she realized no words had actually left her mouth. Instead, she found herself looking down at the stone floor, instinctively shielding her burning complexion from Harry's gaze.

Maybe it would do more good if you told him how you felt instead of just yourself, said a voice inside her head that sounded very much like Hermione. After all, you're both alone now and maybe he really is starting to like you back. But Ginny shut this thought down right away. Theories were one thing but she couldn't afford to take the chance that Harry would still reject her, not tonight, not on top of everything else.

The sound of two sets of footsteps continued to echo through the corridors as their owners continued an inexorable march back to Gryffindor Tower, their heads swimming with words unsaid.

***

The milky white face of the acting headmaster appeared in McGonagall's fireplace. He looked exactly like a ghost.

"Professor Snape," said McGonagall in an agitated manner. "Potter and Miss Weasley have just been to see me. Weasley has been having nightmares. She thinks - Potter thinks - that You-Know-Who is trying to possess her mind again."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" he said stoically.

McGonagall studied Snape for a moment. He did not look very much like a man who had just been roused from sleep even though it was the middle of the night.

"Severus, surely," McGonagall went on, as non-plussed by Snape's laconic demeanor as Harry had been with her own. "What if he's right? I mean, You-Know-Who... well, naturally, I didn't say anything of the sort to them, but what - what if he has found his way back into Miss Weasley's mind? The Totalis potion. That's how he made that diary in the first place. Surely you're aware - "

"I am aware of a great deal, Minerva," said Snape steadily. "And I urge you remain calm. The headmaster and I have everything well under control."

"Well, I don't know what you've told Potter," retorted McGonagall, the Scottish lilt rising higher in her voice. "But I'm no fool, Severus! If You-Know-Who is possessing Miss Weasley, then your control over things is very tenuous indeed! At least you could tell the headmaster. I would reach him myself but as I think you know," she added, with a trace of resentment in her voice, "I have absolutely no idea where he is at the moment. I very much hope that you do!"

McGonagall's resentment grew stronger as the look on Snape's face seemed to suggest he was enjoying this.

"I will inform the headmaster as always. Thank you for keeping me apprised. And thank you for not sharing your concerns with Potter and Weasley. It is very much for the best, I assure you."

Snape's face disappeared.

McGonagall tutted antsily to no one in particular, and tapped her foot noisily on the floor. No, she was definitely not going back to sleep.

***

Harry and Ginny had reached the bottom of the staircase to Gryffindor Tower. Ginny remembered how Amanda had told her that she would wait for their return and she had no doubt her friend would be loyal to her word. She forced her feelings for Harry to the back of her mind as she had done so many times before and grabbed hold of his shoulder.

Harry turned around abruptly, clearly startled.

"What?" he said.

"Don't tell Ron!"

"What?"

"What I said. He didn't wake up, did he?"

"Well." Harry thought for a moment. "Well, I'm not sure, I - "

"No, he didn't," said Ginny with certainty. "He would have come out."

"Well, I expect so, I suppose, but - but, Ginny, why? He's your brother. He's concerned for you. We all are."

"No, Harry." Ginny shook her head. "I don't need concern right now." Except from you, she thought, but she forced herself to go on. "I need to face this. I need to face him - alone. I have to or I - I'll never be able to go on with my life. I know you understand this, Harry. You've faced him yourself so I know you know. Ron wouldn't understand. But you do."

And Harry found himself on the receiving end of Ginny's deeply penetrating gaze. And just like the others before him, he discovered that whatever he had meant to say was quickly forgotten.

Then he nodded.

***

The face of Professor McGonagall disappeared from the fireplace in the Potions Master's rooms, the rooms Snape had kept for himself, lest anyone might have had any greater cause to consider him an interloper to an office that rightly belonged to Dumbledore.

The lone occupant of the rooms stared thoughtfully at the fireplace for a moment, then raised his sleeve to stare at the jet black mark just visible against his pale skin in the dying light of the fire.

After another few moments, he crossed over to the fireplace, and carefully took a handful of floo powder from a stone urn near the fireplace that was similar in many ways to that of Professor McGonagall except that it bore the head of a snake preparing to strike. Whereas McGonagall had thrown her floo powder into the fire with hurried carelessness, the occupant of the Potions master's rooms, who was no less anxious to deliver his own message, slowly churned the powder in his hands. Then when his pale white palm had finally turned a dirty grey, he threw the remains of the powder into the fireplace and said, loudly and clearly:

"Lord Voldemort."

***

Harry lay awake in bed, his eyelids heavy with fatigue but unwilling to let himself fall into sleep until he had wrestled his thoughts into focus more clearly.

He watched Ron sleeping on the bed next to him, a troubled but undisturbed expression on his face. Had he really slept through the whole thing? Harry found himself wishing very much that he hadn't.

Harry realized he wasn't certain of much anymore. Hogwarts was the one last place left where he had thought he was safe. The discovery of the secret room had chipped away at that sense of safety but the knowledge that Voldemort might once again use Ginny as a weapon against him made him feel much, much worse.

And Ron was his best friend. How could he not tell his best friend that his little sister's life and soul were in danger? And how could Ron ever forgive him if he found out?

But there was something that Ginny had said to him that night that stuck in Harry's mind as surely as if she had carved it there with a knife.

I know you understand this, Harry. You've faced him yourself so I know you know.

And Harry knew that Ginny was right.

And so before he finally surrendered to sleep, Harry made two very irrational decisions. He would not abandon Ginny Weasley, just as he had not abandoned her in the Chamber of Secrets, even at the cost of his own life.

And he would not tell Ron and Hermione anything that had happened that night.

***

By the time he arrived, poorly rested and very late, to breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning, Harry was determined he wouldn't go back on the first decision he had made before returning to sleep the night before, but he found it difficult to imagine how he could keep true to the second. Ron and Hermione may not have ventured themselves out into the common room last night but many other students had and surely they would hear of his trip to McGonagall's office with Ginny. Feeling decidedly queasy, Harry pulled up a chair next to his two friends and hastily spooned a helping of Wizard Puffs into his bowl.

He quickly became aware that Hermione and Ron were talking in low, animated tones about what was obviously a topic of some importance. Harry poured himself some milk and tried not to notice but Hermione turned to him and said in an urgent whisper:

"We think something did happen last night and it has to do with Ginny!"

"My, my," said Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington whose partially severed neck was wobbling disconcertedly amidst the bowls of food in the center of the table. "They should put you back in first year, spilling milk like that all over the table cloth!"

Harry hurriedly replaced the now empty jug of milk on the table. He was glad to see that neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to have noticed.

"By the way, mate," said Ron. "I'm sorry. We tried to stay up last night, we really did, but - "

"We fell asleep," finished Hermione. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I found out this morning from Ginny's roommate, Amanda."

Harry studied the tablecloth studiously. He had thought that at least Ginny would have sworn her roommate to secrecy. But now he could see that the game was up. He found himself almost relieved that he wouldn't have to face keeping the story from his friends after all.

"Yeah, well," he started. "I was going - "

But Hermione kept on talking. "She said that Ginny experienced some kind of fit in the common room. She was screaming on the floor! Of course, I didn't tell her about the letter but - "

"It's a bit of a coincidence otherwise, don't you think?" finished Ron. "Anyway, I'm really worried," he said gravely. "She's not been herself all year. She's all quiet. I thought it must have been the O.W.Ls but now I don't know."

Harry just stared at his two friends. He was waiting for the penny to drop with a tremendous bang but it never seemed to happen. Then Ron said:

"I expect you slept through the whole thing again."

Harry looked back at Ron stunned. Amanda had been there the whole time. And she had told Hermione about Ginny's dream but apparently had said nothing about his own involvement. He couldn't even begin to think why.

"The question is," said Hermione, her eyes narrowing, "what does it have to do with the letter?"

"I don't think it has anything to do with the letter at all," said Harry suddenly. "I think she was just scared about her exams. Just like Catherine was. I think we're overreacting. Look, maybe the Death Eaters were planning something but it failed. Just like it failed on the night of the ball. You've said it yourself, haven't you, Hermione? No one can break into the Hogwarts defenses."

This was not exactly what Hermione had always said and Harry hoped she wouldn't really remember but, as usual, the smartest witch in their class was not easily fooled.

"I don't know, Harry. You-Know-Who is very powerful. I suppose if anyone could find a way, he could. And what about the secret room? We know the Death Eaters were doing something pretty awful that night and they must have been planning something again this week! That's why Ginny saw all those things down there and that's why they were so anxious to take them out!"

"That's right, Hermione," said Harry, anxious to seize on the one weak point in his friend's argument. "They were planning something. Sirius and Dumbledore knew about it. That's why Sirius sent the note. But it didn't work!"

Harry was pleased to find that Hermione didn't really have a ready answer for him this time but she did not look very sure. Nor, for that matter, did Ron.

"Do you really think so?" he asked Harry as the three of them gave their breakfast bowls to an elf at the end of the table.

Harry found it very hard to look in his friend's eyes. "I just don't think you should worry," was the closest he could come to the truth.

"She's my sister!" retorted Ron. "Of course I worry! And with Fred and George and Percy gone, it's my job to look after her!"

"Then why don't you ask her?" said Harry.

"She won't say anything," said Ron. "She never does."

"Maybe I should talk to her," suggested Hermione.

"I suppose," said Ron thoughtfully. "Or maybe Harry. After all, she has - well, she did - well...."

"No, Ron," said Hermione. "I don't think she'd tell Harry anything. I'll talk to her."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Ron. "I really think she'll listen to you."

They had now reached their usual positions in the fourth row of Binns' class. The ghost teacher appeared through the blackboard and began his customary drone. Harry did not even hear the first word.

His heart was thumping so loudly in his chest he was sure Ron and Hermione would hear it sitting next to him but when he looked over at them he saw that Hermione seemed to actually be listening to the lecture and that Ron was doodling pensively in his notebook but still not looking at Harry.

You're never going to get away with this, said a voice inside his head. Someone is going to tell them what happened. And then you're going to have to answer some very difficult questions.

But maybe you can, said another voice, which Harry instantly wanted to silence. After all, most of the Gryffindors who had walked out into the common room at the sound of Ginny's screams were younger students, the older ones having learned long ago to sleep through the sounds of dozens of teenage children in close proximity. No one in Harry's room had woken up and he was pretty sure no one in Hermione's had either. And why should I tell them anyway? Harry said to himself. It's not my place to get involved with Weasley family squabbles.

Because they're your best friends, came the uncomfortable answer. And you owe it to them. Especially to Ron.

Harry sighed. It was hard to believe that less than a day ago, before he had knocked on the door to Professor Nevins' office, he had wondered at how the events in his life were spiraling out of his control. But how he now wished to be back in the same position again, worrying only about whether Voldemort was about to kill him or whether the awful Dursleys had deserved to die. At least then he hadn't had to face up to the fact that his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had sat back while Voldemort had killed his parents or that he could betray his closest friends so badly.

So dark was Harry's heart at that moment that he wondered whether he should just leave Hogwarts and let Voldemort get it over with. Maybe his friends would miss him but at least they'd be safe and they wouldn't think any the worse of him.

No.

Harry clenched his fist so tightly that his quill snapped in two. Hermione and Ron looked over at him and he managed a shrug, then fished in his bag for another. Binns, as always, saw nothing.

Harry took the quill out and pretended to take notes again even though it was obvious to anyone who was looking at his parchment that he hadn't written a thing.

You're going to stay and fight, he said to himself. Otherwise you're no better than Nevins. What house are you in after all? Ginny's doing it. She's willing to stay and fight Voldemort. Why can't you?

Ginny.

Harry was not at all sure why he was protecting Ginny like this. Perhaps they had become closer friends than before but surely his loyalty must go first to Ron?

Well, he thought to himself, for one thing, Ron isn't handling things very well. And Hermione doesn't know as much as she thinks either. Harry was beginning to understand why Ginny didn't want to say anything to Ron. He would just try to shield her. Harry thought about how he would feel if someone tried to prevent him from facing Voldemort himself. After all, it was his parents he had killed. And Harry was still not sure he could begin to imagine what he had done to Ginny.

The moment he started to think about Ginny, a horrible cold sensation formed at the pit of his stomach again and his partially digested Wizard Puffs suddenly felt like icebergs floating on a cold, grey sea. Though he may have once been, Harry was no longer quite so clueless in matters of love that he did not pause to consider whether after all these years he was starting to fall for his best friend's freckle-faced sister. It would certainly explain a great deal: the way he had looked at her when she was studying for her O.W.Ls, the Boggart, and why he was willing to put her wishes ahead of Ron's. But while this thought succeeded in totally terrifying Harry, even in his present fractured state of mind, mostly because of what it would mean to his friendship with Ron, this did not, in itself make the icy sensation either go away or become worse, and Harry was forced to conclude that there was still something else he hadn't faced.

Harry decided that whatever it was, he didn't want to know about it. After all, it wasn't as if he didn't have enough things to worry about.

***

Deep in the reaches of Hogwarts Castle, Lucius Malfoy gently put the crystal back in its holder. It had done its work for now. The Dark Lord had heard from his servant last night. Malfoy had been immensely...relieved. If all went well, when next he set foot in this room, the Weasley girl would be leading them straight to Potter and Hogwarts would be under the control of the Dark Lord. And all because of him.

But there still was more to be done before that day arrived.

Malfoy reached into the breast pocket of his robe and drew out a frightened-looking rat by its tail. The rat was missing one toe. He placed it on the table and waved at it with his hand. Its nose twitching and its eyes darting around, the rat scurried off the table, onto the floor, and down to join its fellows on the long corridor to the kitchens.

"Just in case," Malfoy muttered to himself.

***

Dumbledore rolled up the parchment again and sighed. For a moment, all he could hear were the sounds of soft raindrops on the invisibility tent above their heads as he, Sirius, and Snape huddled on the chilly spring ground of their now customary meeting place in the Forbidden Forest.

Dumbledore looked up at Snape. "And you are sure that Voldemort is going to go through with this?"

Snape gestured to the parchment. "He's been planning this for months now, hasn't he? He'll do it."

Dumbledore nodded. "Then we'll have to brew the potion ourselves. I daresay Severus can make some modifications to disguise Sirius' signal."

Sirius stared back at Dumbledore. "You're really going to let Voldemort go in there?"

"That was the plan all along," Dumbledore replied softly. "And if we follow our own roles in this, we should be able to trap him."

"And if we fail?" asked Snape.

Dumbledore shook his head. "It would have happened eventually, anyway."

There was silence for a moment. Then Snape said:

"Headmaster, perhaps if you sent me into the room instead of Black. This operation is particularly delicate. If I were seen, it might be easier - "

"No, Severus." Dumbledore looked down at the ground. "I need you to monitor the potion. As you yourself have led me to understand, this is an extremely delicate procedure. If something were to go wrong, any one of us could end up transported to goddess knows where."

"I don't think your boss will be needing any help this time, Snape," said Sirius coolly.

Snape stared at Sirius and said:

"I just worry, headmaster. If Black were to die, Potter might become even more impossible to live with."

Sirius' jaw hardened but he said nothing.

Dumbledore looked between the two of them like a teacher waiting for his classroom to be quiet. When neither spoke anymore, he said:

"We have a lot of work to do then. I suggest we begin."

***

Hermione sighed. She hadn't really meant to bring up Harry. She could have had her talk with Ginny without mentioning him. But then everything had seemed to go downhill very fast and now Ginny was pretending to bury her face in The Standard Book of Spells: Year 5 but Hermione doubted whether the younger girl was getting very much read. For one thing, she hadn't turned a page in the past half hour. Hermione knew this because she had spent the same amount of time staring at Ginny and thinking how she could repair the damage she had done.

After her conversation with Harry and Ron, Hermione had resolved to find a chance to catch Ginny on her own. A week had passed before she had finally found the chance. It was the first warm Saturday of the spring. Harry had been busy with Quidditch practice - the final game of the season against Ravenclaw had been moved from its customary position on the first Saturday following the Easter holidays so that the teams could practice after the fifth years had finished their first set of O.W.Ls but now it was just two weeks away. Ron had wanted to go and watch and asked Hermione along, too. But Hermione had said no, partly because she was planning a S.P.E.W.-sponsored International Workers Awareness Day for May 1 which was just the following week and partly because Crookshanks had decided to return from his ever-extended hunting trips and Hermione knew he would have to be de-pixied.

She had also hoped to catch a word with Ginny whom she guessed would be too busy to go outside. She had sat in the common room all morning and her patience had finally paid off when Ginny had sat herself and her books down beside her.

"Not going outside?" Hermione had asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.

"No, Amanda, Catherine, and Colin are out there, but I can't concentrate. Besides, Amanda and Colin have had so many rows lately that I've decided it's best to study alone. If they can't get along, I don't know why they just don't do the same, but I reckon it's easier not to try and understand other people sometimes."

"Oh," had been Hermione's rather tepid response.

Ginny had suddenly looked at Hermione properly and her eyes had widened slightly. Hermione had found herself feeling a little awkward until Ginny had finally said:

"You know, I haven't seen Crookshanks for ages."

Hermione had felt herself go a little red. "Well, you know, he seems to go out so much now," she had replied, pretending to concentrate on aiming her wand at a spot just below Crookshanks' right ear where a baby pixie was trying to hide.

She had looked up in time to see that Ginny was still staring at her curiously.

"I wonder if he senses he's not welcome."

"Of course he's welcome," Hermione had said, and Crookshanks himself had looked up at Ginny with a highly offended expression on his face. "It's just that, well." Hermione had sighed. She had seen there was no use trying to keep anything from Ginny. "Ron and I have gone for so long without having a row and I just - I just worry that, well, he's never really liked Crookshanks and - "

"Hermione," Ginny had said evenly. "Please do yourself and my brother a favor. If you're going to go out with him, he has to accept all of you or at least you two have to be more honest about the parts of each other you don't like. Besides, I think you'll find Ron doesn't hate Crookshanks so much after all. After all, he - well, anyway, you shouldn't try to hide him, that's all."

Ginny had quickly opened her book and raised it to cover her face.

"After all what?" Hermione had asked, suddenly looking at Ginny very suspiciously. Only she, Harry, Ron, Sirius, Lupin, and Dumbledore had known that Scabbers had really been Peter Pettigrew in disguise. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew and Hermione supposed that several of the other Weasleys might but she was fairly sure Ginny was supposed to know nothing.

"Nothing," Ginny had said breezily, continuing to cover her face with her book.

"Ginny," Hermione had said, sensing she was not about to get any further with their discussion of Crookshanks. "Are you all right? I heard - I heard - "

Ginny's face had reappeared from behind her book. She was not blushing. "You heard what?" she had asked.

"Well, one of the first year girls said - well, I think she was concerned about you - she told me you had some kind of horrible nightmare or something one night and that you were screaming out in the common room. I - I just wondered whether you're OK."

Ginny hadn't answered right away. Then she had said:

"A first year girl?"

"Yes," Hermione had replied, a little weakly.

"I see," Ginny had replied with the vaguest hint of resentment. "Well, yes, it's true, I did. I was having a nightmare about my Potions O.W.L. And I'm afraid it came true."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny," Hermione had said, feeling a little rotten for making her friend relive the experience.

"It's all right," Ginny had replied. "I was never really good at them, anyway. I just have to keep studying for the next set now."

Hermione had thought hard for a moment for some way to continue talking and take Ginny's mind off her Potions failure. In retrospect, Harry did not seem like the best topic of conversation but Hermione somehow hadn't thought this through at the time.

Hermione had lowered her voice to whisper. "Speaking of Ron and I, what about you and Harry?"

Ginny's book had dropped to the floor. "Harry?" she had said, sounding a little alarmed. "What about him?"

"Do you still have a crush on him?"

"Oh." Ginny had suddenly seemed much more relaxed which Hermione had found very strange indeed since the topic of Ginny's crush on Harry had never made her relaxed before. Hermione had then watched as Ginny's expression changed from relief to confusion and then surprise. "That," she had finally said.

"Yes," Hermione had pressed on, a little uncertain as to what to make of Ginny's reaction.

"Well, of course I do," Ginny had said. "I always will. I've just too busy to think about it lately."

Ginny had finished her sentence very quickly and buried her face in her book again.

"Are you going to tell him?"

Ginny had shaken her head. "I can't."

"Ginny!" Hermione had been exasperated. "This has been dragging on for ages now! Don't you think you should?"

"No, Hermione, you don't understand." Ginny had looked very furtive again. "I can't. If he said no - if he started to avoid me - I - I just couldn't face it - not now."

"But, but," Hermione had protested. "You're not going out with him now. If he says no, it's the same thing!"

"No, it's not, Hermione," Ginny had replied with conviction. "If he says no, I'll feel much worse. At least this way I can still think he might have said yes."

"But you'll never know!" Hermione had protested. "Ginny, that is totally illogical!"

"Love often is, Hermione. Anyway," Ginny had continued idly. "That reminds me. You remember the day I kissed Harry on the cheek.... Goddess, it was months ago now, I suppose. I've just been thinking about my tests. It was such a stupid thing to do but how did he take it, anyway? You were there, remember?"

And that was when things had started to go horribly wrong.

"I - I - I, oh, yes, I remember." Hermione had remembered quite a great deal. She had also remembered how she wasn't going to tell Ginny what had happened. But while the younger girl was adept at hiding her thoughts from others, Hermione had discovered that it didn't work quite so well the other way around.

Ginny had put her book down. "Hermione," she had said, fixing her directly in the eye. "You'd better tell me."

"Well, he - he looked quite pleased at first, but then, well...." Hermione paused.

Ginny was still looking at her. "Go on," she had said.

"Well, Ginny." Hermione had looked down at Crookshanks again when she had found herself unable to stand looking at Ginny's eyes anymore. "Well, he - he did seem, I suppose, a little nervous, and actually." Hermione had winced. "I think he said he didn't feel like eating the rest of his breakfast but," she had tried to quickly add. "I'm sure it was just nerves. I'm sure that if you told him how you felt - "

"He would feel even worse," Ginny had finished. "I think maybe what you're telling me is that Harry's not really ready to hear how I really feel about him."

"But - " Hermione had started but found she couldn't finish her own sentence.

Ginny hadn't said anything more but Hermione had watched in agony as all the color had run out of her face. And then she had picked up her book and started to read.

And try as she might, an hour later, Hermione still couldn't think of anything else to say to her. She still felt convinced in her own mind that Harry had feelings for Ginny but try as she might, she couldn't find any way to prove it to her. And after a while, Hermione started to wonder whether Ginny had really been right: maybe Hermione had wanted it to believe it too badly herself.

***

The warm summer sun struck Sirius' face as he crept into the forest clearing following the goblins' frightened retreat. From the sound of stirring branches around him, he could see that Dumbledore and Snape were emerging from the other side. They walked slowly and silently toward the center of the clearing and stood in front of a patch of earth that still bore the scars of goblin footsteps and heavy cauldrons. If everything went well today, thought Sirius, this would be the last time they would need to stir a potion.

As he trudged through the now thick, tall grass to the meeting place, Sirius found that his thoughts once again fell on Harry. It was the last week of the school term and Sirius knew from Harry's recent letters that he would have finished all but one of his exams by now. As Sirius himself knew, the sixth year was important, as it determined whether the students could continue in their N.E.W.T. classes before their exams the seventh year. But Sirius also knew that Harry had spent little time concentrating on his lessons this year. He knew that were he, Sirius, in Harry's position, he likely would have spent none at all. Though he knew his views were not shared by the gaunt-faced once and future Potions Master, he admired Harry's self-control and wondered from where he had gotten it. Certainly not from James.

Sirius felt a twinge of angst as he remembered Harry's last letter to him, how he had asked McGonagall about his arrangements for staying in Hogwarts for the summer, now that there was no home and nowhere safe for him to go. McGonagall had not known what to tell him. Sirius, for his part, still believed that it was best to tell Harry the truth, or as much of it as he dared, and without telling Dumbledore about the letter, replied back to Harry that it wouldn't come to that.

He did not, however, tell Harry why. He did not tell him that, in all likelihood, within two days, either he or Voldemort would be dead. Dumbledore, of course, liked the odds on Harry's survival. Sirius liked them a little less. But he had agreed to help Dumbledore for one reason and one reason alone: the chance to save his godson's life was much greater now than it could conceivably be at any time in the future.

They had reached the center of the clearing now. Even Dumbledore had decided to dispense with his usual benign greeting this time and instead looked extremely grave. Snape, who looked much the same as always, flicked his wand and a large cauldron filled only with water appeared in its usual spot. He flicked it again and three comically long wooden poles apparated on the spot, each with a small scoop on the end. They looked to Sirius like spoons for giants.

"I would like to remind everyone again - " muttered Snape.

I'm sure you would, thought Sirius, but this time he managed to keep his thoughts to himself

" - that this is an extremely delicate operation that requires the utmost concentration. It is for this reason that I have conjured these goose-necked ladles. You must place your ingredients on the ladle and stir them quickly into the potion. I trust you have measured all of your portions correctly. I will, of course, remind you of the order in which they should be placed."

"And Voldemort is having all this done as well?" asked Sirius.

"I can assure you he is."

"Oh, I've no doubt you can. Nice of him to let us go first, isn't it?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"The Dark Lord is under the misapprehension that I have sabotaged the ingredients for our potion and provided him alone with the correct procedure," replied Snape.

"Misapprehension," repeated Sirius thoughtfully. "Of course, if we were to mix the potion incorrectly ourselves, it would simply be an honest mistake on your part."

"Sirius," said Dumbledore sternly. "I believe we are all here on Harry's behalf. As well as on behalf of many innocent wizards and witches. If you have a different idea, even at this late stage, I am, as always, prepared to hear it. If you do not, however, I suggest we continue to follow Severus' instructions."

Sirius nodded reluctantly.

Snape returned immediately to his lecture.

"First, we must add the asphodel."

Snape took a small portion of crushed roots and added them to the end of his ladle. He stood several feet away from the cauldron and motioned Sirius and Dumbledore to do the same. Snape added the asphodel and the potion hissed immediately and began to steam. He stirred the potion vigorously with his ladle and the simmering began to subside.

"And now you, headmaster, the crushed grinsbone."

Dumbledore added a white powdery substance to the mixture and stirred equally vigorously.

"And the unicorn milk?" added Sirius holding up a vial of white liquid.

"Not yet, Black," replied Snape with an air of contempt. "First, we wait."

The wait seemed to go on for hours. Sirius watched as the sun crept slowly down behind the trees. He saw that Snape and Dumbledore seemed ever quick to attention and wondered how they managed to keep their concentration over such long periods of time. Sirius for his part found his mind drifting back again to what mostly occupied his thoughts when they weren't focused on his godson: the dubious nature of Dumbledore's plan. As far as Sirius was concerned, far too many of their arrangements hinged on Snape's potion-making abilities and by extension, his questionable loyalties. Dumbledore's trust in Snape seemed almost blind and Sirius could never see how Dumbledore could think this was wise, nor would he -

"Black!"

Sirius was suddenly aware that Snape was shouting at him and by the looks of things, it wasn't the first time.

"Add the unicorn milk - quickly!"

Sirius undid the vial of unicorn milk and spooned it out into his ladle. He then scooped the mixture into the cauldron which hissed and boiled much more violently than before.

"Now stir," Snape commanded.

Sirius stirred the mixture with his ladle and but found it much more difficult to maneuver the long spoon-like object than he had originally thought.

"Faster, Black!" said Snape urgently.

Sirius tried to stir faster but his command of the ladle was still clumsy. The potion began to boil even more rapidly and parts of the mixture began to spill over the side. A hazy blue light formed in the air just above the cauldron.

"Faster! Faster!" said Snape in alarm. He added his own ladle to the mix and Dumbledore added his. The three of them together were now stirring very rapidly indeed but the light continued to swirl. Finally, a thin shaft shot out from the circle like a lightning bolt and whizzed quickly past Snape's left ear before disappearing into the forest. Dumbledore, Sirius, and Snape continued to stir the mixture until the boiling finally quieted and the blue light receded to a soft glow on the surface of the mixture.

Snape had now succeeded in getting Sirius' attention. The three of them continued to stand there in silence. After several minutes had passed, Snape began issuing instructions again. Dumbledore added thyme roots, Snape the yolk from thestral eggs, then Dumbledore again - grambly bush thorns, and then it was time for Sirius to add an infusion of crushed mandrake roots and stir them very fast. As soon as he did so, the potion began to bubble and sway, like the choppy waters of a shallow sea in a sudden storm. A column of blue light erupted from the center of the cauldron and rose high into the night's sky. All around the surface of the cauldron, strands of indigo crackled and merged like streaks of lightning. Sirius looked up at Snape to see whether this was normal and found that the Potions Master looked horror stricken.

"Black, what have you done?" he cried, his eyes uncharacteristically wide.

"Nothing!" Sirius replied indignantly.

"You must have prepared the roots incorrectly!" said Snape, his voice growing in alarm.

"I prepared them exactly as you told us to! I - "

But Snape no longer seemed interested in who was to blame. "Get back! Get back, both of you!" he cried. "Before - "

But it was too late. Sirius had no sooner taken a step backwards than a thick strand of light shot out from the potion and struck him hard on the chest. Snape and Dumbledore watched helpless as a thundering wave of energy seemed to consume Sirius. For one moment, they watched him twist and turn; then, there was a brilliant flash of white-blue light and where once Sirius had stood moments before, there was now only the bitter smell of electricity.

For a moment, neither Dumbledore nor Snape moved. Then Snape looked from the smoking ruins of the potion up to Dumbledore and said very quietly:

"I'm afraid that this will make our plan rather more difficult."