The Veil of Memories

Chapter 17

The Arc of Becoming

Snape reached quickly into his pocket and pulled out a rosary. As his mind struggled to grasp what was going on around him, he became certain of only one thing: he was no longer facing the powers of this world. He would fight Satan's warriors the only way he knew how.

"I would suffer you not to come any closer," he hissed, holding out a wooden crucifix in the direction of the intruder. "Tell me: are you the devil himself or one of his angels?"

The intruder laughed. "Both, I shouldn't wonder. Oh, Snape, when are you are going to snap out of it?" He sighed. "Of course, it's not that simple, is it?"

"Stay where you are!"

"That might be a bit difficult when Umbridge comes back."

"How do you know my name? Of course," Snape added, before the intruder could reply. "He sees all, doesn't he? Sister Umbridge is his agent as well, isn't she? And the children?"

"Nearly right, Severus. As a matter of fact, you and I have known each other quite a long time."

"I know no Satan!"

At this renunciation of the Prince of Darkness, the intruder dropped his pretense of a smile. An evil venom seemed to radiate from his eyes and his words came out in an agitated hiss.

"Ah, but from what little I know of him, I think you must know a great many Satans, Severus, starting from the one you face in the mirror every morning. I shouldn't wonder that you wouldn't be very happy if you did get back your memories. You're such a big important man now. Tell me: how does it feel, whipping little children? Does it make you powerful, Severus? I shouldn't care very much if you rotted and died in this stinking hell, but Harry and Hermione need you to come round and remember that you're supposed to be on our side. Only then do I have any chance of getting them out of here and ending this madness."

Snape held the crucifix higher and felt a holy glow infuse his cheeks. "I will not help you, Satan. And your game has failed."

"We're wasting time!" replied the demon in exasperation. "Snape, please try to think! You always used to be so good at it. Can't you tell that Umbridge is hiding things from you? She just took a bloody great wand out of her habit, for the sake of the goddess - or God if it makes you think me less a heathen. What was all that for?"

Snape continued to hold his crucifix out in front of him. "I did not say I trusted Dolores Umbridge, Satan, and I do not have to answer to you. I should have recognized long ago that no Earthly power could have altered that tape. While we try to save young minds, you corrupt and destroy them. Still," Snape's voice grew more strident. "I suppose I should feel flattered. We must be doing important work to have attracted the attention of the Prince of Darkness himself, mustn't we? If this school is to be the battleground between heaven and hell then so be it, Satan!"

Footsteps started up again in the background and they seemed to be drawing closer fast. Snape forced himself to his feet and tried to fasten the already closed deadbolt shut even more firmly.

"I'm afraid that won't do much to keep them out, Severus. I'm sorry about this but since you're being so intractable, you leave me with little choice." The intruder drew a long stick out of his pocket, very similar to the one "Sister" Umbridge had used.

"I fear not your worse weapons, Satan, not so long as I have the power of right - "

"Stupefy!"

" - on your side," finished Sirius, as Snape slumped unconscious to the ground. He sighed then grew serious. He reached into the pocket of his cloak again and took out a small glass ball. The footsteps had stopped outside the door now and the lock was tried. Sirius knew he only had seconds to finish a complex incantation but he forced himself to concentrate as he held the ball over Snape's head and began to mumble. A loud smashing sound emitted from the door as the guards tried to break their way in. He could hear Umbridge calling out for Snape and hoped that his own whispered charm would not be heard above the racket. Finally, there were shrieking sounds from the guards and the sound of a loud explosion. The deadbolt came apart and fell into the office. Sirius knew he wouldn't have time to finish the charm. All he could hope was that he would have the chance later. He replaced the ball in his pocket but not before Umbridge broke open the door and saw him do it.

Her eyes widening, Umbridge tried to swing the door all the way open but it stopped on Snape's prone body which blocked the entranceway. Umbridge savagely kicked Snape aside and walked all the way into the office, slamming the door in the face of the incoming guards.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded.

"I was tempted, but I'm afraid the effect will only be temporary."

Both Sirius and Umbridge quickly had their wands out and aimed at one another. They slowly circled around opposite sides of the office as though choreographing a strange dance.

"Expelliarmus!" Umbridge cried suddenly.

The light from her wand hit Sirius on the chest, but he only smiled and continued to walk around in the circle, his wand still in hand.

"What manner of creature are you?" she hissed.

"Don't you know? Or didn't your boss tell you? It was he who unleashed the forces that made it possible for me to come back."

Umbridge's eyes glazed over with a fanatical expression. "He has been misunderstood by generations of wizard-kind. He only wants to raise the dead from their sleep."

"The dead aren't sleeping, Dolores, and since your friend has started playing with what he doesn't understand, they're not resting easily either."

"A temporary effect."

"The beginning of a catastrophe that will end everything - living and dead."

"You must stop interfering."

"I have no intention of doing so. I am going to stop you, and you cannot stop me."

Umbridge's eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that. But I wonder: what is it you're hiding in your pocket?"

"What is it you're hiding under your cloak?"

Umbridge was fast but Sirius was faster.

"Acc - "

"Accio Parchment!" he cried out.

Umbridge screamed, her own summoning charm still not yet completed, as her outer cloak flew open and away, ricocheting against the window behind Snape's desk before falling into a heap on the floor. The long parchment, which she had smuggled out from her office at Hogwarts, also sprung out from where she had been concealing it inside the elastic loop of her underwear and flew into Sirius's outstretched hand. Repressing a grimace at the grotesque sight before him, Sirius neatly took the parchment in his hand, briefly waved, and then disappeared.

The door to the office opened again and three of the guards burst inside. In a speechless instant, they took in both Snape's still unconscious body and Umbridge standing in the middle of the office, dressed in only her undergarments and the headpiece to her habit.

"FOOLS!" she bellowed.

***

"Hello, Ron," said Nevins. "Neville, Luna."

"Andrew?" said McGonagall incredulously. "B - but I don't understand?"

"It will take a very long time to explain, Minerva, but for now, I'd be very grateful if you could give me something to eat and drink and somewhere to sit down."

"Y - yes, of course, oh, my word."

Ron looked around to find that a much larger crowd of students and staff were gathering around them. As only the older students remained at the school, each of them had studied under Nevins the previous year. Ron could see that they, like he, were still hard pressed to associate the weak, thin, disheveled wizard who had just walked out of the Forbidden Forest with their former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Some of them exchanged shy greetings with him that he was indulgent in returning, but McGonagall quickly shooed most of them away. Madam Pomfrey, whom someone had alerted, came running out of the hospital tent and she, McGonagall, and Ron quickly guided Nevins inside.

***

By the time Ginny had woken that morning, the sun had already climbed one-third of its way through the hazy sky over the village. Once awake she had felt slightly groggy, as though she had slept for too long. When she got to her feet, she had also realized she was extremely stiff. It took her a moment to remember that it had only been the previous day that she had wrestled with Malfoy over the Quidditch pitch, and then later on she had fought for her life and gone running around the school into the bargain.

But in spite of her stiffness, Ginny had been determined not to stay resting in bed any longer. There was much to do, starting with finding out where she was and how she had gotten there.

After her confrontation with Dumbledore the previous night, Ginny had eaten a little dinner, a curious mix of a strange kind of meat with vegetables that seemed equally unfamiliar, but nonetheless very delicious. After she had calmed down, she had told the headmaster as best as she could what had happened the night before in the school. Dumbledore had listened patiently: he had been clearly attentive and had asked few questions. Ginny wasn't sure whether there had been something in the food but, after that, she had begun to feel very sleepy. She had been escorted by the ever chipper Dobby and several other elves to a stick and pebble hut all her own where she had woken that morning.

Her bed was merely a makeshift collection of leaves and feathers that seemed to be glued together by the same principle through which the stick and pebble huts had been erected, but it was soft and, although placed directly on top of the cool, damp earth, somehow very warm. When Ginny had awoken, she had found a kind of potted basin already full of warm water. She had scooped the water up in her fingers and wetted her face with it to clear the cobwebs. On a small stand at the side of the bed, she found that someone had placed several new sets of clothes, all hand woven. The outer garments were simple one-piece robes that seemed put together from bits of earthen-colored cloth. When she had put on the robes, Ginny had discovered that they were cool and comfortable against her skin.

Ginny had then looked around the hut thoughtfully for a moment. As soon as she had found what seemed like the exit, she had made her way quickly out into the middle of a muddy avenue. An elf - either male or female Ginny still couldn't tell - had looked to be carrying a basket of laundry down the avenue. As soon as the elf had spotted Ginny, she or he had let out a little scream and dropped the clothes immediately. Ginny had bent down to help the elf pick up the clothes but then a good dozen other elves had emerged from all of the tents around to come to the rescue and pick up the clothes themselves. Sensing that it was unbecoming for a guest to help with any manner of chores, Ginny had then gone looking for Dumbledore. She hadn't taken long to discover that her small hut was adjacent to the main one at the center of the village. Hoping that she wasn't violating elfin protocol even further, Ginny had walked gingerly across the green grass in front of the hut and cautiously stepped inside.

Dumbledore had been sitting inside much as she had left him the night before, alone with three torches still standing up from the ground in front of him. The large swaths of cloth that were draped across the outside of the tent blocked out most of the light, though it didn't seem to bother Dumbledore who appeared to merely sitting in thought.

Ginny had wondered whether she had been interrupting anything but Dumbledore had seemed quite happy to beckon her inside. Ginny's initial pleasure at finding Dumbledore so accessible had then been marred by his failure to answer her questions; all he had said was that Professor Lupin would be returning later that afternoon (from where Ginny did not know) with new information and it would be best to talk then. Dumbledore had not said as much but Ginny gathered that Lupin was still using some of the same modified Polyjuice disguise he and Dumbledore had used the previous year to outsmart Voldemort in order to spy on some of the Death Eaters. Ginny had also suspected that Dumbledore was delaying her until he could come up with a set of reasonable excuses as to why he hadn't been able to make any further progress.

The headmaster had succeeded in deflecting some of her worry, however, by producing an owl from Ron which he had received earlier that morning. Ginny was overjoyed to know that he and the others were safe, and had quickly penned a reply, which she had then sent with several of the elves who were helping with the damage that had destroyed the school. Dumbledore had also sent a long letter to McGonagall.

With the news that Ron was safe, much of the urgency had gone out of Ginny and she made her way out of Dumbledore's tent, whose darkness seemed somewhat oppressive to her. Ginny had returned to find her own hut ringed by a circle of curious children, each looking up at her with wide curious eyes and long noses. Dobby had quickly reappeared and insisted that Ginny eat some breakfast. She had felt surprised at how appealing this idea had sounded. Dobby had left her with the children as he cooked and they had wasted no time in examining her robes, ankles, fingers and anything else they could get their tiny hands on, although they still seemed quiet and awed as they did so. Dobby hadn't seemed to take any notice of this, and had happily gone on preparing the breakfast. He had only shooed some of the children away when they had congregated on Ginny's lap after she sat down. When she had finished the breakfast, Dobby had contented himself with playing the role of translator. At this point, the quiet faces had become very talkative. The exchange had helped time to pass very quickly for Ginny. By the time they had finished, Ginny had learned several words in Elfin with mixed success, and much to the amusement of her audience.

But Ginny had not soon forgotten Dumbledore's promise: she had made her excuses to leave as soon as she had spotted Professor Lupin, looking very mangy and haggard, step silently into Dumbledore's hut. Dumbledore had then beckoned both of them to a secluded spot on the edge of the grassy village. The elves had seemed content to leave them to their meeting, but it was not until they were far away from the village that Dumbledore had deemed it safe to talk. Lupin had reported on his surveillance of goblin groups, many of whom were apparently working for the Death Eaters, and the flow of activity to and from Voldemort's base in the secluded lake. It didn't seem to Ginny that he had learned very much for the obvious toll it had taken on his body, which seemed to Ginny especially pale and unhealthy. She had restrained herself for as long as she'd been able, but now the questions were just too many.

"You're planning to rendezvous with McGonagall and the others then?" she said to Lupin, who nodded. "Then why can't I go, too? I have more stake in this than anyone!"

"I'm afraid that's precisely why we cannot let you go, Ginny," replied Dumbledore.

"If I learned nothing else from my trip," explained Lupin, "I learned that Voldemort has placed a very high premium on finding you, Ginny. He's recruited an enormous network of goblins to comb the forests all over Scotland and Northern England. If you go, it will make the mission far more dangerous."

Ginny sighed. "But don't you see? I'm his weakness! His feelings for me are what kept him from using the Memory Charm. Otherwise, I would never have known what he was up to and I'd never have been able to get everyone's memories back!"

Lupin frowned at this. His expression cleared into one of quiet understanding when Dumbledore said:

"Draco Malfoy is channeling Voldemort, Remus. He said as much to Ginny. And it seems he has much of his old powers back."

"I see," said Remus, sighing, "well that explains quite a bit."

"So now you see why I've got to go!" Ginny kept on. "I'm not afraid."

"Your courage is not and will never be in question, Ginny," replied Dumbledore, "but I'm afraid that Remus is right. We cannot afford to have you fall into the wrong hands."

Ginny sighed again in exasperation. "And what if the goblins or the Death Eaters find me here? Are you going to endanger this whole village to keep me safe? They're defenseless, do you know that?"

Dumbledore and Lupin exchanged a quick glance, but not so quick that Ginny did not notice it.

"I'm well aware what their defenses are," replied Dumbledore, "and I think you give them far too little credit. They have magical abilities of which Voldemort himself would be envious. But I confess they would have little chance against a Death Eater attack and believe me, Ginny, I would be the last to want Voldemort anywhere near their villages. But the elves have learned nothing if not how to conceal themselves. You are aware, of course, that it is impossible to get into the village without a Portkey of their own design. Apparation in and out of the village by wizards or witches is also impossible. Only the elves themselves can move about in an unrestricted manner, just as they can move in and out of Hogwarts. There are also many magical wards that neither I nor, I assure you, Voldemort can fully understand. That is why I must remain here also. Voldemort will have made it a point to be very sensitive to my magical presence after I succeeded in deceiving him last year as I'm sure he is to yours as well. If we are to have any hope of defeating him, Ginny, before it is too late, we must remain here and plan, and there is much you still have to tell me."

"I told you everything I know!"

"Ah," Dumbledore raised a finger. "But I am very interested in the things that you didn't say. You said that Voldemort showed tremendous reflexes on his broomstick on the Quidditch pitch and then again in the Reserve Potions room. You say he attempted to dodge your," Dumbledore paused diplomatically, "hexes by flattening himself on the floor?"

"Well...yes, and he could crawl along the ceiling and walls like a spider, not to mention absorb about thirty hexes thrown at him in the Great Hall."

Dumbledore looked across at Lupin and smiled congenially. "Do you see, my friend?"

Lupin looked at Ginny curiously. "He did not try to fly?"

"Fly? You mean," she turned to Dumbledore, "you mean like you and he did in the Original Room last summer, when you turned into all those other - er, animals?"

"That's right," Dumbledore replied implacably.

"Well, no," replied Ginny. "I don't think he needed to, though."

Dumbledore paused for a moment, and then turned to Lupin. "What do you think, Remus?"

"I'm afraid I don't agree, Ginny," said Lupin after a moment's pause. "From what you've told us, he could have gained the advantage over you much earlier in the battle if he had flown."

"Which suggests that he doesn't have all his powers back yet," said Dumbledore. He formed a triangle with his fingers and moved it reflectively to his mouth.

"Well," said Ginny, after it seemed that neither Lupin nor Dumbledore were interested in speaking up further, "now that I've finished being useful here, can I go with you?"

"No, Ginny." Lupin put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's too dangerous. For all of us."

Ginny felt no less exasperated, but she could see from the expression on Lupin's face that he was not about to give in.

"So you're going to defeat Voldemort and save the world with my brother, Professor McGonagall, and a few other Hogwarts students?"

"I'd rather that than an army full of Aurors who don't have possession of their memories," replied Lupin wryly, "besides, this is how we've always done it." He and Dumbledore exchanged an excruciating smile.

"Well," said Ginny, sighing yet one more time. "I hope you're right about - "

Ginny stopped talking as Lupin tightened his grip on her shoulder and made a motion for her to remain silent. Dumbledore's smile faded also and he looked up at something behind Ginny. Ginny herself quickly swung back to see an elf walking toward them. She noticed immediately that he was not naked like most of the other elves but wore a long cloak that looked like it had been made from stucked-together crow's feathers. On its head was a small cap which looked like an enlarged representation of a crow's beak. The elf had not yet reached Dumbledore and Lupin when both bowed deeply. Remembering how she had been admonished the night before for trying to bow before the two village elders, Ginny hesitated for a moment, but then she felt Lupin tap her shoulder. She gently bowed herself, wondering what made this elf exempt from the customary guest-host etiquette.

"Twunchay Ne Twunchay Chai," said the elf, and bowed to Dumbledore in return.

"Ose," replied Dumbledore, bowing again.

The elf turned and left.

"The high priest has informed us that we have a visitor," said Dumbledore.

"Who?" Ginny asked, slightly baffled.

"Only one sort of visitor would come announced by the priest and not the elders," said Dumbledore. "'The One Who Walks Yet Does not Wake.' Sirius."

***

Madam Pomfrey had conjured a new set of canopies and surrounded the bed where Nevins now sat. He still looked haggard and pale but after some food and drink, a bit of color had returned to suffuse his cheeks. His eyes were bloodshot, as though he hadn't slept in days, but they were still bright and alert and darted back and forth among his interlocutors. With his thinned face and crooked nose, Nevins looked like a hawk scanning the earth for his minute prey.

Ron had still felt surprised when McGonagall had included him in her small circle of listeners along with Harmon, Luna, and Neville. But he also realized that her attitude toward him had changed dramatically ever since she had received the parchment from Dumbledore describing their daunting mission. Part of Ron told himself that he deserved it and, after all, with the state of the castle, it seemed that his school days had come to an effective end. Yet Ron remembered a time when he and his friends would have given anything to be initiated as full-fledged members of the Order of the Phoenix, the privilege now came under such grim circumstances that Ron felt as though a burden rather than a privilege had descended upon him. Perhaps that was what his mother had realized when she had fought to preserve the last lingering years of his childhood even as he had wished for nothing more than to rush through them.

Nevins took one last sip of a special Pepperup Potion Madam Pomfrey had developed for him, cleared his throat slightly, and began to speak. His voice was gravelly again to begin with but after a few words it e again took on the smoothness Ron remembered from his days as Nevins' student.

"Goodness me, Counselo," he said, seeming to notice Harmon for the first time. "They've got you here as well now, have they? You're my successor, I take it?"

Harmon's face clouded over. "Not exactly, Andrew. I teach Potions."

Nevins frowned in incomprehension for a moment but then his own features darkened. "Oh, dear."

"You don't remember then - you don't even know!" Ron realized. "The false memories!"

"No, Ron," said Nevins. "That's how I've come to be here now. You see, my memory was never altered in the first place."

"But how?" asked McGonagall. "Andrew, everyone was affected! Not just us here at Hogwarts: the Ministry, the Aurors, the Prophet - and from what Dumbledore just told me, they still don't have their memories back!"

"Not everyone, Minerva." Nevins sat up, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's restraining hand on his shoulder. "I'm all right, Poppy," he said assertively. "There must be two dozen of those memory balls," he explained, "all over England and beyond. You-Know-Who made sure to put them where it mattered most: the government, the media, this school and, of course, he'd have made sure to put one near the Burrow." He looked briefly at Ron before turning his gaze back to McGonagall. "But not everywhere. I was outside of the fields - all of them.

"After last year, I wanted to get as far away from the wizarding world as possible, you see. I found myself a place far away on the moors where everything sinks into the mud except my charmed house and vegetable garden. And they did not place any Memory Charms there. I don't suppose they figured me much of a threat and I wasn't." Nevins ended his sentence with a slight note of bitterness. "It's not very easy to be one voice in a wilderness of ignorance."

"But how did you find out?" asked McGonagall.

"I still kept getting The Prophet, a day late, usually, mind, and costing me extra silver for the bigger owl treats. It was then that I realized things weren't right at all. At first, I thought they were misprints: it was only little things after all. Most of the main facts were usually right. Then they ran an article about how Dumbledore was trying to get Muggle-borns to come to Hogwarts. I thought it must be some sort of joke. But then they would say other wrong things, and the facts kept getting more and more distorted. I thought of owling a letter of indignation but something made me stop - my Auror instinct, I suppose. There was something altogether too sinister about the whole thing. It's a good thing I didn't send that letter, of course: it would have given me away."

"So then what did you do?" asked Ron.

"I wasn't sure what to do; I felt a bit helpless. For a while, I thought of just getting on with my retirement and letting it all sort itself out. But that didn't rest easily on my conscience for long. I finally decided to make a trip to London and that was when my problems really began."

"How so?" McGonagall frowned.

"I got caught in the memory fields, didn't I? As soon as I Apparated into the Ministry, I forgot all about why I'd gone to London. I still had the keys to my old office and I just went up to work, thinking I'd never retired from being an Auror in the first place. Everyone else thought it, too, so it didn't seem strange at all. I slept in my office each night, somehow managing to convince myself I was between flats or some such nonsense. It's ridiculous what the mind will make up to fill in the holes of the truth. The whole charade went on for weeks." Nevins let out a short, mirthless laugh.

"How did you get out of it?" asked Harmon.

Nevins frowned. "Little things began to bother me; I still had the keys to my old house on Dartmoor, for one thing. And I suppose it must have been my training again; things didn't add up. In the back of my mind, I knew that something was wrong. I'd always taken trips out into the countryside to clear my head whenever there'd been a particularly thorny problem. I took myself out into the woods - back near the Forest of Dean. I remember walking through the forest when suddenly it all came back to me like a flash - like waking up from a dream. Looking back, I suppose I must have walked out of one of the memory fields again."

"What did you do next?" asked Neville.

"I went back to my cottage and had a good think. By this time, I had a pretty good idea that one of the mass charms we all used to fear the Death Eaters might learn to develop in the First War had been put into action. Of course, I knew it had to be You-Know-Who. I hadn't thought he could come back so soon but there really wasn't anyone else who could have done anything on this kind of scale. I knew I had to warn someone but who? And how could I avoid falling under the spell of the Memory Charms again?

"I finally decided to Apparate back to London but this time I charmed my owl to find me with a letter if I wasn't back within three days. I was fairly sure the Memory Charms couldn't affect them. Sure enough, I ended up like a zombie again and then the letter arrived. I was extremely suspicious, I don't mind telling you, but it seemed I'd told the poor soul to keep sending me charmed copies of the things if I didn't come back at once, so finally I decided to go where it was telling me and I found I had my memories back again. I was at pains to know what to do at that point but I knew that something very sinister was going on. I decided I had to go back to the Ministry and warn them somehow, but how to hold onto my memories? The only thing for it was a bit of research. I nursed my owl back to health; its beak had been all but done in from trying to tap on the window of my office telling me to come back. I still kept quite a selection of old books in my trunk - "

"Oh, you, too," said Luna, seeming to take interest in the conversation for the first time. "Mine's charmed, you know. My father did it for me. I - "

"Thank you, Miss Lovegood," said McGonagall shortly, her customarily severe frown returning momentarily.

"Yes, well," said Nevins, not seeming disturbed about the interruption, "I managed to find the history behind them, made some memory balls myself, did some tests on my house cat, St. Theresa, and came to the conclusion - "

Luna clapped her hands together loudly. "I should have thought of that!" she declared. "Cats can read. Did you know that, Ronald?" Luna went on quickly, sparing Ron the need to reply. "Shakespeare gets so excited over a good book he'll tear it to pieces if I don't watch out. I wish I'd have thought of that. Then I could have saved you the trouble of being my experiment."

"What?"

"Yes, that's right," said Nevins quickly, before the exchange could continue further. "Anyhow, after doing a lot of tests on poor St. Theresa, I could see there was a flaw in their arrangements, but only one flaw, and some very nasty failsafes."

"Such as?" prompted Harmon.

"Apparation for one thing: if you Apparate into another area still under a memory field - and I think it safe to assume You-Know-Who's hideout qualifies, your memories will be absorbed by the field. In your case, you'd be right back where you started from. Same goes for the Floo network. And as for the Knight Bus, well - they'd have made sure to place a memory ball there, wouldn't they? And the Hogwarts Express. That way, they could be sure to trap people even when they traveled."

"So that's why when we all went home for Christmas, we didn't get our old memories back," said Ron.

"Exactly, Ron," said Nevins. "The memory ball at Hogwarts couldn't hold your memories from that distance, so as soon as you arrived back at the Burrow, your memories were transferred to another device probably not far from your home. But it seems the memory balls are designed only to trap the memories of newcomers entering by conventional means - floo, Apparation, Portkey perhaps, but old-fashioned walking it turns out, well, given the distances involved, it didn't seem that anyone would attempt it. But I did."

"You walked back to London?" asked McGonagall incredulously.

"I took a Muggle train for part of the way, actually," said Nevins, "but I did do a fair bit of walking, yes. I made it into the city, across the Muggle Underground, and back to my office, and I still remembered who I was and everything that had happened. The signal on the new Memory Charm didn't register my entry into its field. I immediately set up an appointment with the Minister. I received it, of course - I still have some influence, Order of Merlin, First Class and all that rubbish."

"I suppose he didn't believe you," said Ron.

"Worse." Nevins let out an ironic chuckle. "I was halfway through the conversation when I started to see the signs. I could tell it was Imperius. It seems You-Know-Who isn't taking any chances."

McGonagall went very pale. "The Minister... Fudge... under the Imperius curse?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Father's known about it for years," said Luna dismissively. "It was The Weird Sisters who did it. That's why he never went ahead and banned their albums. I'm surprised none of you read, you know."

This time, everyone chose to ignore her.

"But how did you know?" asked McGonagall.

"I was an Auror for a very long time, Minerva," Nevins replied. "Believe me, there are signs. Of course, after that, I was a marked man. Fudge appeared to dismiss me lightly but the next day, no one in the Auror division remembered who I was. An owl tried to find me with an incineration potion and I decided I'd best leave London the way I came. I felt sure they would try to catch me in my home, either by making sure to plant a memory ball this time or simply by eliminating someone who had already been collectively forgotten, so the only choice left for me was to make my way here. I did my best with Muggle transport again but I didn't have many of their coins. I eventually got thrown off one of their trains just over the Scottish border. The rest of the way I walked. I arrived about a week ago hoping to speak to Dumbledore and quickly found that Umbridge was in charge. I laid low in the forest and this morning I saw the school burned down. I suspected there might have been some sort of insurrection and eavesdropped on your conversations from my hiding place. When I was satisfied you had your memories back, I came out."

There was a long pause. Everyone looked at Nevins expectantly as though they did not realize he had finished his account. McGonagall still seemed in shock from hearing that Fudge had been put under the Imperius, but Ron found himself more troubled with what he had already taken to be the disturbing implications of Nevins' saga.

"So... we can't Apparate to You-Know-Who's hideout," he said, "and we can't rendezvous with Professor Lupin?"

"You can rendezvous with Remus all right," replied Nevins, "but I'm afraid he'll have to wait for you some while. It takes several weeks to walk from here to the Lake District. Trust me, I know."

"Several weeks?" echoed Ron incredulously. "By that time, You-Know-Who will have done his worst!"

"It's either that or you'll get there forgetting why you went and I don't think you'd be much help in that case."

McGonagall looked back thoughtfully between Ron and Nevins for a moment. "I can't believe it's the only way," she finally said, "but if it is, then I don't see that we have much choice. I'd better send another message to Dumbledore. Get some rest, please, Andrew. You three - " she pointed at Ron, Neville, and Luna, " - no word of this to anyone, understood?"

Ron, Neville, and Luna all nodded, each very much aware that they had not earned McGonagall's trust easily.

"I think we'd better clear off ourselves," said Harmon, after McGonagall had left. "Professor Nevins needs rest."

They all turned to leave, nodding acknowledgements to Nevins, but before Ron was out of the tent, Nevins took hold of his arm.

"Wait, Ron," he said.

Neville looked back curiously for a moment but Ron nodded at him to go on.

"You need rest, Professor," said Madam Pomfrey who still stood over his bed, a firmness in her tone.

"Just a few moments, Poppy, if you don't mind excusing us."

Madam Pomfrey looked disapprovingly at Nevins but then pulled at the canopy surrounding Nevins' bed and disappeared, leaving him and Ron alone in the small tent within a tent.

"I'm sorry about Harry - and Hermione, of course," said Nevins quietly as soon as Madam Pomfrey had left.

Ron felt a chill run up his spine. He wished Nevins hadn't said that. Ron hadn't much time to think with everything that had happened since the previous night and now, concentrating on saving the world seemed more than enough to have to face without being reminded of the unknown fate of his closest friends. But he continued to hold the gaze of his former teacher.

"I don't know them as well as you, of course," Nevins went on, "but Harry and I faced quite a lot of demons together last year and I know that whatever he has or hasn't remembered, he has the wits and nerve to get out of them. I'm sure the same could be said for Hermione. And for you, too, Ron. I couldn't help overhearing what you did in Gryffindor Tower." Nevins smiled, almost reflectively. "I imagine you have doubts about yourself but, believe me, I've worked with a lot of brave people my life, and there aren't many who'd be better off saving the world than you."

Ron nodded, though he still wished Nevins would stop talking. An uncomfortable lump had started to form in his throat. It grew only more persistent as Nevins continued.

"And I know that whatever happens, Ron, your parents are going to be very proud of you. You've already done much that this old man never managed to."

"You're wrong about that, sir," said Ron, shaking his head, and swallowing the lump away. "We'd have been lost if you hadn't turned up just now."

Nevins smiled again. Perhaps it was his features, but there always seemed something ironic about the way he did it. "I'm very good at getting away, at least, and this time, that stood me in good stead."

Ron hesitated for a moment. "Are you coming with us?" he asked. "I mean - if you wanted to stay here, I'm sure everyone would understand. You've done enough already."

But Nevins shook his head. "Rest assured, Ron, fear will give me all the strength I need on our journey. I'm far too much of a coward to sit idly by while the world comes to an end."

Nevins and Ron looked at each other for a moment longer. Ron found himself suddenly glad that Nevins would be along and glad he had said the things he did. He had the feeling he was going to need to remember those words.

"You'd better get some rest, Professor," he finally said, getting to his feet.

"I shan't argue anymore." Nevins laid his head back on the pillow, the alert, hyper-sensitive expression finally fading from his face. "You, too, though, Ron. If I'm right about this, we have a very long journey ahead of us."

Ron nodded, waited until Nevins had closed his eyes, and then got up to leave the tent.

***

It seemed that the entire village had gathered to watch as about a dozen elves, all with graying hair in their ears, and all dressed in the same strange feathered garment, slowly lit patches of green grass on the sacred ground in front of Dumbledore's tent. They used the same long stick-like torches Dobby had carried with him the night before. After each step, a few blades of grass began to smolder and the elves would move on to the next spot. Though it had rained earlier in the morning and Ginny could see that the ground was still moist, the flames had little difficulty catching on the grass, but neither did the fire spread. It continued to burn the grass in place as though lighting a set of small candles.

The priests had not yet finished when Ginny could see that with the flames in the grass they had drawn an equilateral triangle about five meters high and wide. She had no idea what it meant but something about it made her shudder. She looked over at Dumbledore but found only a solemn but impassive expression on his face.

With the triangle completed, the elves moved back away and stood six on each of the sides that met at the triangle's vertex at the closest point to the hut. An open side faced Ginny, Dumbledore, and Lupin where they stood just outside the grass. The other elves all stood away from the priests on either side. No one stood behind or next to the three humans.

There was still no sound. The elves seemed to be waiting for something to happen. Ginny felt a distinct pressure build up in her head, starting from the bridge of her nose, as though her sinuses were tightening. A flock of small birds in the valley just behind the village began to cry out and swoop low as though a thunderstorm was approaching, yet the skies were still clear and blue. A sudden gust of wind blew up and Ginny winced as dirt from the ground flew at her face. She couldn't help but think it had nothing to do with the weather.

And there he was suddenly. Ginny found herself too surprised to gasp as Sirius appeared in the center of the triangle, his robes never looking more tattered, and his hair and now full beard especially unkempt. He looked almost blankly out toward them for a moment and then broke into a funny grin and walked briskly across the grass, stepping over the low wall of flame, and shaking the bottom of his robes to douse any fire. He seemed to tread toward them with deliberate nonchalance, as though eager to dismiss all of the ritual circumstance that had surrounded his reappearance. But even as he did so, there was something false about it: it was as though he was a fraud trying to imitate how the real Sirius would have appeared.

"It's good to see you again, Ginny," he said as he approached her. "I hope you are all right."

"I'm - fine."

Sirius said nothing more but gestured for them to retreat to the field they had come from. The elves continued to say nothing but watched after their retreat. As they walked away from the village, Ginny could not help a quick glance back but immediately regretted doing so: many pairs of eyes remained glued on them and all were slightly fearful. Ginny couldn't help but feel that they appreciated what Sirius had really become far more than she did.

They were not far out of the village when Sirius motioned for them to stop.

"I haven't got time to stay long. I've upset the apple cart a bit and I think Harry and Hermione might be in danger, along with some of the other Muggle-borns. I need to get back as soon as possible, but I had to give you this."

Ginny noticed for the first time that Sirius carried a long parchment in his hand which he handed to Dumbledore, who took it from him as one might catch hold of a poker that has just been thrust into a fire.

"Open it, Albus," said Sirius, "you'll find it reveals a great deal."

Looking back to Sirius but saying nothing, Dumbledore unrolled the parchment. Ginny joined Lupin in looking over his shoulder. Dumbledore nodded solemnly and Lupin moved his jaw around. It was clear they knew what it meant but even looking at it, Ginny felt none the wiser. To her the parchment contained only one thing: a drawing of a triangle inscribed in a pentagon. A circle was drawn from the triangle to a larger area just above both of the other shapes.

"You took this from them?" asked Lupin.

Sirius grinned. "Dolores Umbridge's prized possession. The expression on her face made it all worthwhile."

Ginny had the sense there was something else Sirius wasn't saying, but Lupin and Dumbledore seemed too interested in the diagram to pay attention to him.

"It confirms what I thought," said Dumbledore finally.

"At least now we know we what we have to do, then," said Sirius eagerly.

Lupin and Dumbledore seemed far more apprehensive, however.

"I would say it rather complicates things, Sirius," suggested Lupin.

"I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree with Remus," said Dumbledore. "Still, it provides us with a possible solution, and we did not have any firm course of action before."

"Excuse me," said Ginny. "Perhaps someone would like to tell me what this means?"

"It is a representation," said Dumbledore quickly, as though afraid Sirius or Lupin would break in ahead of him. "The triangle, or nexus, is a doorway to the other world, like the one you have just seen Sirius step through. I suspect that Voldemort has found the magic to conjure these doorways; that is how he banished the Muggle-borns."

"And the pentagon?"

"The pentrax frame, an energy source," said Lupin. "There are life energies all around us: in the air, in everything we see. Voldemort obviously plans to harness these to create a massive triangle and punch a hole, if you like, into the other world, the world beyond the gateway."

"His attempt to build up these energies is what has made the whole thing so unstable," added Dumbledore. "But that will be nothing to what will happen if he tries to break through the barrier. It will be like letting all the air out of a balloon."

"And we'll be on the inside," said Lupin ruefully.

"So - so this pentrax frame thing wasn't around when he conjured the triangles before?" asked Ginny, trying to understand.

"Around, yes," replied Sirius, "but somewhere else, I imagine, wherever he's got the veil, probably in that hiding place at the bottom of the lake. He could conjure the triangles in other places but not with so much energy. He's probably got the whole thing in some sort of massive chamber. At the present moment, he can only send small things through to his bubble universe by conjuring temporary gateways represented here by the nexus. He's probably constructed a pentrax with the aim of pushing the opening out much further."

"So what does the circle do?"

"From what I was able to find in records the Ministry tried to conceal," replied Lupin, "the circle is called the Arc of Becoming. It's a frequency of spiritual energy that returns to the gateway every few months or so."

"It's a bit like an orbit," Sirius went on. "The world beyond the gateway - my world - flows in and out of resonance with yours. When the resonance is at its strongest, it becomes easiest to travel back and forth. The last passing, last September, was when I first moved to back into this world and came to Hogwarts. It's difficult to determine precisely when the next passing will come but theoretically it's possible to calculate with the right magical knowledge. I expect Voldemort wasn't fully prepared then but I'll imagine he will be next time."

"And we've just been trying to catch up to the hidden terrors Voldemort has probably spent decades trying to decipher," added Dumbledore with a sigh.

"So he's waiting for the arc to come back to punch a big opening through the gateway and connect the two worlds?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," said Lupin.

"And we don't know when that will be?" asked Ginny.

"Soon, I fear," replied Dumbledore. "But not right away. There are signs."

"And now that we know for sure that this is the way he's doing it, we'll be able to stop him," said Sirius triumphantly.

But again Dumbledore and Lupin didn't seem so sure. They looked even more uneasy when Ginny asked how. But Sirius beamed.

"Think of the arc like a rubber band, Ginny," he said. "Pull on it and let it go and it will snap back toward your finger. That's what Voldemort wants to do: pull the two worlds together so he can punch a hole between them, but give it too much force and what happens?"

"The rubber band will break. And then the worlds will move further apart?"

"Exactly! Not to mention a very nasty feedback inside Voldemort's little power grid."

"But how would we do that? Some kind of massive hex?"

All three wizards had gone very blank.

"Muggle eckel-tronics?" Ginny tried.

Still there was silence. Finally, Lupin opened his mouth once or twice as if to speak, and then closed it again.

"I think we should tell her," said Sirius. "She has a right to know, don't you think? She's as much mixed up in all this as either of you, probably much more so. And she may yet be there at the end."

"Ginny is not going to leave this village until all of this is over," declared Dumbledore with certainty.

But Sirius returned his expression of authority with the smile of a Marauder. "Never underestimate a Gryffindor, Albus. We often find trouble before it finds us."

"I'm well aware of that, Sirius, having been in Gryffindor myself, but we'll all be in more than a little trouble if she doesn't remain here."

"She doesn't have to know, Sirius," said Lupin, stepping forward and looking his old friend in the eye. "Some things are best left untouched."

"Know what?" demanded Ginny, indignant that the older wizards were talking about her as though she wasn't there.

Sirius was looking at Lupin now, too. "Dumbledore I expected but I'm a bit disappointed in you, Remus, you know. I thought a teacher never values ignorance."

Lupin turned his gaze to the ground.

"Then I will tell you, Ginny."

"No, Sirius!" said Lupin sharply, raising his head again.

But Sirius ignored him and turned only to Ginny, his eyes staring deeply into hers.

"The energy is a life energy," he explained, "it's all around us, as Remus just said. Voldemort has found a way to harness it but it's the not the only way. Why am I beyond the gateway and not you, Ginny?"

Lupin sighed heavily. Dumbledore remained silent but continued to look daggers at Sirius.

"Because... you died?"

"What is death? The transfer of a life energy from one world to the next. And a transfer of energy inside the pentrax would be very great indeed."

"So in order to stop Voldemort, someone has to die inside that thing?"

"At precisely the right moment."

"So we can kill him and stop his plans at the same instant!"

Ginny surprised herself at the hate she found in her own words, but she did not turn away from Sirius who grinned broadly in return.

"You seem to be forgetting one thing, Sirius," said Dumbledore, a little soberly, as though mourning the cat that had just been let out of its bag. "Voldemort's soul will not transfer, not after the curse I put on him. It will remain in his body when he dies."

"Well, one of his Death Eater cronies then," said Sirius dismissively. "They're bound to be in there helping him. I'm afraid I'll have to leave the details to you. I need to get back to St. Brutus's immediately."

And with that, Sirius turned and briskly walked back toward the center of the village where the triangle he had stepped out of continued to burn and the elves maintained their vigilant silence. Dumbledore, Lupin, and Ginny were forced to walk briskly to keep up with him. Her shorter legs not carrying her as far, Ginny quickly moved into a trot and ended up a few paces ahead of Lupin and Dumbledore. They reached the edge of the triangle and the elves parted to let Sirius through, but before he stepped back inside, Ginny called out:

"Sirius, wait!"

Sirius stopped walking for a moment and turned around to face her. The elves also turned and stared almost hypnotically in her direction.

"Is Harry all right?"

"He will be if I can get to him quickly, Ginny," replied Sirius. He turned around to step into the triangle but Ginny's next words made him stop again:

"He doesn't remember me, does he?"

Sirius did not turn around to face Ginny as quickly this time but when he did, his eyes seemed to burn with the intensity of Professor Janus, sweeping his sword dangerously in front of entranced class of students on the first day of the new term many lifetimes ago. He looked down at Ginny for a moment and then swept quickly toward her. He placed his hands on her shoulders with an intensity that jolted her body.

"But he does remember you, Ginny," he said with conviction. "He may not know your name, the details of your lives together may have eluded his waking thoughts, but in his heart he still knows you and remembers your love. And believe me, Ginny, sooner if not later, that will prove very important indeed."

Sirius did not wait for Ginny to reply. He turned around and walked back inside the burning triangle. No flame caught on his cloak. He turned back and faced them only briefly, but when he did so, his eyes seemed oddly lifeless. Ginny suddenly had the feeling they'd been dead all the time and only now could she see it. A chill ran up her spine and a gust of wind blew up again. With a cry of warning, another bird - a single black crow this time - skimmed the top of her head and flew low over the triangle. A split second later, Sirius had vanished. The priests waited for a moment, then moved onto the sacred ground. They touched their extinguished torches to the flames on the grass, lighting them again, but somehow extinguishing the flames from the ground. By the time they had captured the tongues of flame from each point on the triangle, the fire had disappeared completely. Not even a burn mark remained on the lush, green earth.

***

"I didn't know you drew."

Harry instinctively moved the rough piece of white cardboard away as Hermione approached.

"You don't have to hide it from me."

"I - I'm sorry," said Harry. "It's instinctive, you know. I'm feeling a bit jumpy right now."

Hermione nodded her understanding. They were outside again. A football scrimmage was going on but Harry wasn't taking part this time. He'd done his duty the day before. And Hermione doubted whether he would have felt like it in any case. They had heard nothing from Sirius since he had told them that morning he would try to break them out of the school. Knowing him, it could be days or weeks before he contacted them again. But it also could be hours and, at this moment, both of them were alert and edgy. Perhaps drawing was the way Harry relaxed himself. She'd never known that before but she supposed there was a lot she didn't remember about her friend.

Harry held up the cardboard, which turned out to be the backing of an old box of sweets he'd found on the ground. She could see he'd only gotten as far as tracing a profile, but it was definitely meant to be a face and Hermione guessed it was a girl's. Harry had drawn out the traces of her hair which was long but straight, not as bushy as Hermione's.

"I've only started doing it recently," said Harry, in reply to Hermione's earlier question. "I've never been much good at drawing. But I have this face in my mind somehow. A - a girl's face." Harry blushed a little. "I don't know who she is. I think she might be in my dreams. Do you ever have one of those dreams where you can see people there but you can't quite see what they look like? As if your mind doesn't know all the details?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I - I don't know," she said. "Perhaps. I don't remember my dreams very much really." She shuddered suddenly, as though someone had just walked over her grave.

"Well, I do, I think," Harry went on. "It seems like if I draw it I'll remember. I fancy sometimes...." He stopped himself.

"Go on."

"Well, I fancy sometimes she might have been someone I knew before - before, well, you know, if it's all true, that is."

"Before your memories were taken away from you, like Sirius said?"

For the first time since they had begun talking, Harry and Hermione looked each other in the eye. Both saw the tension the other was feeling, but it was Hermione who put it into words.

"Harry, s - suppose Sirius does come to get us out of here, are you really - I mean, are we really going to leave with him?"

Harry looked at her for a moment and then, as though reaching a decision, nodded.

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry, I was thinking, you know, about - about something Sirius said. He said he had to get us out of this school. But then he corrected himself and said 'out of this world.'"

"Yeah?"

"Well, what did he mean by that? Haven't you wondered?"

"Well, yes... I mean no. No, I suppose not really. If what he says is true, then there's a lot we don't understand."

"Harry," said Hermione, a bit hesitantly. "Do you ever get the sense there are things he's not telling us?"

Harry sighed. "Yes," he said, after a pause. "But I've decided not to care about that anymore." His jaw hardened suddenly.

"Harry," Hermione went on. "I remember reading something sometime. About some sort of cult. And how the leader led them all to suicide. What if - I mean, well - what if that's what Sirius is doing? Maybe that's what he means by 'out of this world?' I mean he doesn't really seem so, well, normal really, does he? What if he's going to take us out of this school and lead us to our deaths somehow?"

"And all the spells we learned were done with magnets and wires?"

"Yeah, something like that," replied Hermione, with a bit of hesitation.

"I don't think so, Hermione, but that isn't really important to me anyway, now. I've just decided to trust Sirius."

"Are you really sure about that, Harry?" asked Hermione quietly, even though she already felt she knew the answer.

"Yes," came the equally quiet but no less determined reply. "I've decided to take the chance at any rate. Because I don't want to spend the rest of life thinking I could have left this hell behind me and didn't. Do you, Hermione?"

Hermione didn't get the chance to answer for, at that precise moment, both of them became aware that an ominous shadow had descended upon them.

"I'm so sorry to disturb your conversation," said Sister Umbridge. "But I'm afraid we have a small problem. Would the two of you like to come with me?"

***

Neville lay in his sleeping bag. It was comfortable enough, charmed for warmth and extra padding in the still chilly Scottish spring night, but sleep could not come to him. He heard two of his tent mates - seventh-year Ravenclaws both (all the houses were mixed up now) - snoring away and much of him wished for the bliss of their ignorance. If all went according to plan, by the following night, they would find themselves alone. Neville would have already left quietly with the others on a long march to save the world.

Now that Apparation was not involved, they could have taken the rest of the school along with them. Neville would have thought there was safety in numbers, especially at a time like this, but Professor McGonagall had had other ideas: as she explained it, this was a plan where stealth was the better part of strength. Neville didn't question that she knew what she was talking about. He was also fairly certain that, although she had taken them further into her confidence than he ever would have dreamed of as a Hogwarts student, there was still much she had learned from Dumbledore that she hadn't told them.

And so they were leaving early the next morning. Neville had lost track of how much time had passed since they had extinguished their small torches and been told to get to sleep. It seemed that every time he found something to stop worrying about, something new emerged. He certainly hoped that Luna hadn't made good on her plan to go looking through the ruins of the school for Shakespeare. He also doubted he'd be able to fall asleep until Ron returned. Neville felt certain he had gone back to the castle although they'd been forbidden to do so. Ron had known the dangers but there was obviously something that he, like Luna, had left behind, something he very much wanted, something that couldn't be easily replaced. No doubt he'd assumed Neville was asleep like the others when he'd quietly crept out of the tent.

Putting Ron aside for a moment, Neville's thoughts returned to what had preoccupied his mind the most since that afternoon; why he most envied the students who weren't going with them and would know nothing until it was too late; why he even envied the rest of the wizarding world still sleeping away under the cloud of an illusion.

He wondered what the end of the world would really feel like. Would it be painful? Would they have time to know that all hope had passed? Or would it be quick? Would everything end in the ignorance Neville now so craved? Facing death in Gryffindor Tower hadn't seemed as bad as this. As he'd reflected on it since, only a fool would have believed they could have survived the odds as they had. Yet reflection was exactly what had been denied them at the time. Everything had happened so fast they had had no time to think. Ever since that night in the Department of Mysteries, Neville had become accustomed to swallowing his fear in the face of great danger, but the prospect of an insidious ticking clock that could ring at any moment seemed much more terrifying. He wondered if -

Neville's thoughts were interrupted as the flap of the tent moved softly open again. He opened his eyes long enough to make sure it was Ron who had returned to enter his sleeping bag. Once he had done so, he closed his eyes and tried to breathe more heavily to give the impression he was sleeping. Whatever it was Ron had returned so dangerously to retrieve, Neville doubted his roommate wanted anyone to know about it. But as Ron lay back into his sleeping bag, perhaps condemned to as sleepless a night as him, Neville couldn't help but open his eyes again just a little and catch a glimpse of a small, soot covered case in Ron's hands. He watched as Ron moved his thumb and forefinger back and forth to remove the dirt that had fallen on the otherwise intact box. Inside he could make out the two rings, twirling back and forth, just as they had on the night the first term when Ron had found the case after the Quidditch match. Neville assumed he now remembered what it had been for.

"I won't let you down, Hermione," Ron whispered softly, startling Neville and forcing his eyes shut again. "Not again. Not this time."

Neville didn't open his eyes again but heard Ron stuff the box into the bottom of his knapsack and then rest his head back onto his pillow. Within moments, both had fallen into a deep, yet uneasy sleep.

***

"Don't make a sound!"

Hermione woke up and gasped but managed to keep herself from crying out. Still woozy, her mind in and out of the embers of half-forgotten dreams, she became aware that someone was shining a light in her face. She held her hand up to her eyes to keep the light away when its owner lowered it.

She looked up into the mangy, shadowy face of Sirius. Somehow, she knew it would be him. Her heart pounded fast. Was this the moment when she found out where his loyalties really lay?

"Have you come to get us out of here?" she whispered.

"Sssh!" Sirius placed a fierce hand to his lips. "I'm afraid not. Things have not gone according to plan. I'm lucky I found you, though. A few moments later and I fear they'd have gotten to you. Time always moves unevenly here. I suppose you don't notice. I was only gone a few minutes in the other world and it was hours here."

Sirius fumbled quickly through his untidy pockets as he talked.

"Did you find Harry?"

"Yes, only just."

"They separated us both! They put me here in the hospital wing. They said it was for my protection. But Harry's somewhere else. I don't know - "

"Relax, he's safe, but you must keep quiet, Hermione! They're trying to keep you from me and they won't be pleased to find me in here. They're going to try to erase your memories of me tonight and I have to make sure they don't succeed this time. Now - ah!"

Sirius produced a small glass ball from his pocket.

"What's that for?" Hermione's fingers tensed her blanket into knots.

Sirius paused but it was an anxious and impatient pause.

"You have to trust me, Hermione. We haven't time for much else."

Hermione looked back at Sirius who held the ball out in front of him.

"Now, keep still, please!"

Hermione did as she was told. Sirius began muttering something under his breath. The last thing Hermione remembered was a sharp light shining out from the ball. Then she fell back unconscious.

And even before her head hit her pillow, Sirius had vanished from the room.

***

"Your report on the catastrophe. And do not lie to Lord Voldemort, for he always knows."

Umbridge shuddered in spite of herself. She was weak, physically and mentally exhausted. She hadn't slept for more than twenty-four hours. But she knew her master wouldn't tolerate rest before she had reported to him and, for the sake of her own survival, she knew she would have to make sure he knew she'd undone the damage Black had created.

She looked up at Malfoy, seated at his unnatural perch surrounded by vials and odd knobs of rock that seemed to have been carved from the most evil of dark magic, a white spider at home in the trap he had spun. His hair was still blonde and his face youthful, but his eyes were narrow, sullen, and smaller now. There seemed little of the Slytherin boy she'd remembered - and mistaken him to be for so long.

"I have placed the Memory Charm - my Lord. Everything proceeded smoothly. Wormtail was meticulous in his help. None of the children will remember. Nor will Snape his little incident or the persistent errors on the tape."

"And Black did not return? You are sure?"

"Certain of it, my Lord."

Dolores Umbridge was not certain, of course. Sirius Black could have been anywhere in her school that night and she would have had little means to know. She forced herself to muster all that she remembered of Occlumency. It was especially important that Malfoy not find out that Black had stolen the parchment from her. But she sensed it was not nearly enough. The Dark Lord could read her mind like a book as his eyes searched her.

He smiled for a moment, his blue eyes sparkling behind the black hood that now covered his face. As he leaned closer to her, Umbridge willed herself not to shake, but eventually she could not help it as the words came out of his mouth.

"You are not certain, Dolores, but it is does not matter. Soon we will have the means to be rid of Black forever."

Umbridge forced herself to calm as Malfoy snapped his fingers. For the first time since their conversation had begun, she realized that they had not been alone. From within the dark shadows of the labyrinth that curled its way up above the walls behind Malfoy rose a short and incongruous figure. Umbridge was surprised when she saw it was a common house-elf and an old one at that.

"What is that doing here?" she demanded, her offense that such a vile and profane creature would find its way into a sacred place such as this momentarily overcoming her fear of retribution.

"I share your disgust, believe me, Dolores. But this one is obedient and will serve our purpose. It seems it was inadvertently freed from the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix after Black died. It came to me of its own will - such as it has one."

"What use is it to us now? The Order knows nothing, surely - my Lord."

"It will be of very great use in solving your inadequacies, Dolores. Speak, elf!"

The house-elf stepped further forward. It was weak and afraid, Umbridge could tell, but it nonetheless seemed excited as it spoke.

"Kreacher is long the servant of his true dark masters. How Kreacher was hating the blood traitors and mudbloods that once ran freely around his poor old mistress's house. They is wanting to hurt the Dark Lord, but Kreacher will have his revenge."

"Revenge?" replied Umbridge, feeling repulsed that such a creature could feel any real emotion. "We will find use for you to bring us refreshment, but then you will stay out of our sight."

"Kreacher knows things, things Master Dark Lord is wanting to know."

"You? How can you know anything?"

"Save your tongue, Dolores," chided Malfoy. "Fate plays a strange hand sometimes. It has some vestigial ancestral knowledge from the days when Dark Magic was free from the interference of do-gooders; a race memory and a valuable one."

"Kreacher is knowing about the gateway. All the house-elves is knowing," Kreacher went on, rubbing his hands together with a disgusting eagerness. "Kreacher is understanding how to rid Master Dark Lord of his problem. Kreacher is knowing how to send the last of the Blacks back where he belongs!"

"This elf may know how to expel Black back beyond the gateway - for good," said Malfoy. "Back where he can no longer interfere with our plans. His ideas will need some testing but in time, I believe they will work."

"I find it difficult to believe that this creature is telling the truth," said Umbridge neutrally.

"You find many things difficult to believe, Dolores, in your narrow, petty way, that Lord Voldemort does not. You would do well to remember that." He turned back to Kreacher. "Now, elf, that is not all, is it? Do tell us more."

Kreacher rubbed his hands together again. "Master Dark Lord is looking for someone, someone Kreacher is knowing is hidden away, hidden by house-elves."

"The Weasley girl?" asked Umbridge, fighting to keep her frustration at Malfoy's dangerous obsession out of her voice.

Malfoy nodded.

"Then take us to her!" she demanded to Kreacher.

Kreacher frowned. "Kreacher is not knowing where she is held - yet. But Kreacher is being a house-elf. Kreacher can find their villages and sooner or later Kreacher will find the blood traitor and deliver her to Master Dark Lord."

Malfoy smiled slowly. "You see, Dolores, there are antidotes to your incompetence, after all. With a small bit of patience, the final obstacles to my plans will be removed, one after another. Then there will be nothing left for all who have dared to cross me but witness my final triumph."

Umbridge knew she had to look then. Malfoy's expansive gesture had brooked no contradiction. She stared up behind her, back up high into the unholy chasm that Malfoy had created, the chasm whose five sides would deliver the energy needed to save their world or end it. And there hanging from the convoluted threads that spun throughout this cathedral of the two worlds was the stone archway that Malfoy had stolen months before from the Department of Mysteries, the archway that contained the tattered veil that was the gateway between those two worlds. As Umbridge looked up, she could not see that, even now, the veil had begun to flutter softly. It was as though it was guided by the unseen winds of a destiny the wizarding world had no longer any means to escape.