The Veil of Memories

Chapter 20

Crisis of Faith

Pain and light blurred in Ron's mind. He saw something white and gold standing over him. A soft, fatherly voice said:

"Oh, dear. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear."

"Excuse me," said Ron croakily, struggling to find his voice. "Is this - are we - is this what feels like beyond the veil? Cause if it is, I want to go back."

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know," said the fatherly voice. "But I sincerely hope not."

The searing pain in Ron's head began to fade to a throbbing ache. The world that was swimming around him gradually resolved into a familiar white bears and spectacles.

"P - P - Professor Dumbledore," Ron said awkwardly, "b - but how - how did you - "

"Steady on," said Dumbledore again. "A Killing Curse can do horrible things to one's head, even if it is deflected."

"D - Deflected?" Ron repeated. "I don't understand. One minute I was - I - he shot me - Nott - it hit me head on; how could we - where are the other Death Eaters - what - "

"Steady on, Ron, please!" said Dumbledore insistently as Ron winced in pain again. "I will explain everything but not now. You need to rest and we need to be away from here as soon as you've recovered."

"I'm recovered now!" Ron sat upright and clenched his teeth as pain flooded his head and the forest started to spin around again. "I'm fine!" he insisted. "What's going on? What happened?"

Dumbledore sighed wearily.

"I can only tell you know what I know myself. Perhaps you'll be able to fill in a great many unanswered details when you are well enough. Three weeks ago, for reasons I do not know and can only fear, your sister wandered out of the village where we were protecting her and disappeared."

"I - I know," said Ron. "She contacted me by owl." He winced again. "She was trying - she was trying to reach us."

"Yes, I'm afraid that was her second very serious error. It's the easiest thing to intercept an owl, especially when you have the intelligence abilities of goblins and myocorps that Lord Voldemort has amassed in these forests. Fortunately for Ginny, however - and you - we were able to track your letters as well. But apparently not before they did."

"Who's we?" said Ron suddenly.

"Hello, Ron," said another voice.

Ron turned around, still fighting to steady his head, and saw Remus Lupin lying on the ground, a hastily wrapped bandage covering his right knee.

"I fear I may chase Madam Pomfrey out of her job before too long," remarked Dumbledore, "though I confess I lack her charm and personality."

"What happened to you?" asked Ron.

"Nothing much," said Lupin matter-of-factly. "But I'm afraid the days are gone when I can take on four Death Eaters at once."

"I remember he could manage seven in his younger days," said Dumbledore reflectively. "But perhaps I should go on: we received your owls but we couldn't be sure of your exact position, just as you weren't very certain of each other's, as your subsequent letters revealed. We made it to this forest and Professor Lupin's owl tracking charm told us that Hedwig was flying not far away. I managed to catch a glimpse of her but I'm afraid my anti-Disillusionment sight isn't what it used to be. We couldn't be sure enough of her location for a precise Disapparation; we came as close as we could but I'm afraid that, in these woods, one can be very near or very far from one's destination and still be none the wiser. Finally, we heard the hexes and shouting and followed the noises here. When we arrived, the Death Eaters had you trapped and cornered. I didn't have a clear shot at Nott but I managed to strike and weaken his curse. Another half a second and you really would have discovered what life is like beyond the gateway."

"And then it was left for us to mop up the six or seven Death Eaters you'd left for us," said Lupin. "Which we almost did unscathed."

Ron lay back down on the ground again, his head reeling from all he'd just been told. He thought back to those desperate final moments: Looking down at Nevins, Nott raising his wand, the sound of a horrible pop and then an echo.... But not an echo, Ron realized. The sound of another shot. Dumbledore's shot.

"But I don't understand," Ron said. "Nott's curse - it hit me."

"What hit you was a combination of his shot and my deflection," explained Dumbledore. "And fortunately I seem to have knocked it enough that it didn't kill you. Though all the same, it was a very nasty hex."

His mind still clouded, Ron tried to think his way through Dumbledore's explanations. A flicker of hope danced on the horizon of his hazy thoughts. Did that mean - Could that mean -

"Professor Nevins!" Ron sat back up and looked at Dumbledore hopefully. "Does that mean - he wasn't really - you saved him too, right?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. The twinkle went out of his eyes like the fading of a candle. It was Lupin who finally spoke:

"Andrew Nevins is dead, Ron. He was dead when we arrived."

Ron didn't move. He felt the ends of his fingers go numb. The world began to move around again. Lupin's dulcet words seem to sting much harder than Nott's abortive curse had. Ron felt his eyes start to blur, whether from pain or tears he wasn't sure. He managed to look up and see Dumbledore and Lupin gazing at a spot in the ground in an alcove just under a cluster of trees. Without thinking of his pain, Ron immediately got to his feet and ran over.

It was a mound of earth, freshly dug and slightly raised. A single long wizard's hat had been conjured and placed at its head, the mark of respect for a fallen Auror.

Ron couldn't force himself to stand anymore. He fell hard to his knees in front of the mound. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Lupin standing over him, Dumbledore at his side. Ron didn't want to cry but the tears had a way of running down his cheeks on their own.

"Why d-did you leave h-h-him here?" he sobbed. "Why did you leave him in this h-h-h-horrible place?"

"Because it's what he would have wanted, Ron," said Lupin.

"He was an excellent Auror in the field," added Dumbledore. "But he was far better as a strategic mastermind. He couldn't take it when others died from his planning. Finally, he retired altogether but the losses still haunted him. He began to think he wasn't as good as the Aurors who were out there, day after day, risking their lives in the war. He thought he was a coward but he wasn't. He must have finally died knowing that; it's what he would have wanted."

"No, he didn't want it!" cried Ron angrily. "He didn't want to die!" He pulled himself painfully to his feet again.

"Steady, Ron," said Lupin. He strengthened his grip on Ron's shoulder but Ron fought him off and stood facing Lupin and Dumbledore.

"I dare say he didn't," said Dumbledore calmly, "but at least he - "

"HE DIED BECAUSE I BETRAYED HIM!"

There was a long silence after that. Ron's bellowing words echoed through the forest as though the very trees were passing on the damning truth to each other.

"I don't understand," said Lupin finally.

Ron looked at them both. They only knew half the truth. And with the others now banished to Azkaban, their memories altered, the two wizards might never find out. But Ron knew he could never keep all his guilt inside. Quickly, between hoarse sobs, he told them everything that had happened since Ginny had first started sending him the owls.

"He went out of his way to befriend me, to help me, and he went to his grave knowing I'd killed him."

"I very much doubt he thought that, Ron," said Lupin.

Ron didn't answer. He sat down on part of the fallen log from the old, dead tree and buried his face in his arms.

"And not just him," he finished. "Professor McGonagall was right. I betrayed them all. I'm sitting here with nothing but a headache while they've paid the price for my mistakes! And for what? My sister's been captured. She's probably dead now. And the mission has failed."

"I know how you feel, believe me," said Dumbledore gravely. "However, I for one am not yet prepared to concede the end of the world to Lord Voldemort. The three of us have survived. We have to go on. We're not far from Voldemort's hideout and now we have someone who will take us inside."

"We - " Ron looked up at Dumbledore quizzically. "Wh - what do you mean?"

Ron followed Dumbledore and Lupin's gaze to a tree on the other side of the clearing. Once again, Ron stumbled over, wincing but ignoring his aching head. On the other side of the tree, bound and unconscious, was Nott.

"GIVE ME A WAND!" Ron cried out suddenly.

"Ron - " Lupin began.

"I SAID 'GIVE ME A WAND!' GIVE IT TO ME NOW! I'LL KILL HIM! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"

"Ron," said Dumbledore patiently. "We need him to lead us into Voldemort's hideout. It's the only we have any chance to stop this."

"You can use one of the others. You didn't kill off all of the rest of them, did you? I have a score to settle. I know how to do a Killing Curse; I can summon the hate. He deserves to die; he deserves to suffer! NOW GIVE ME A WAND!"

"NO!" bellowed Dumbledore.

A frightened cacophony of blackbirds erupted out of a nearby tree into the sky. The forest around them seemed to almost bend and sway. Ron stumbled and barely managed to hold onto the trunk of the tree where Nott was tied up to keep himself from collapsing.

"YOU MADE A CHOICE, AND THE CHOICE WAS WRONG. YOU DON'T WANT TO LIVE WITH THE GUILT, YOU DON'T WANT TO LIVE WITH THE HATE, BUT YOU HAVE TO; IF YOU DON'T, BILLIONS MORE ARE GOING TO DIE BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Ron pressed himself back against the tree as though pushed by the force of Dumbledore's fury. He had only twice seen the headmaster like this before: once when Dementors had invaded the Quidditch pitch while Harry was playing his third year and once when Mundungus Fletcher had left when he was supposed to be watching Harry just before the beginning of his fifth. On neither occasion had the anger been directed at him and Ron didn't think he'd like it to again.

"You want to be an Auror, Ron?" Dumbledore continued, more calmly. "This is what being an Auror is like. This is what haunted Professor Nevins almost to his grave. This is what war is. That is why we never choose it. But now it has chosen us. If you kill him, we'll never make it to that lake. We've imprisoned the others, too, and we're keeping them hidden under a Trance Charm should they be needed, but he is their leader; he knows much more than they do. Without him, we won't have a chance but at least now we have just that: a chance. A chance to save your sister; a chance to save everything."

Ron looked back at Dumbledore for a long moment.

"Professor Lupin," he said finally.

"Yes, Ron."

"Is your leg still hurting?"

"I daresay I'll manage, but I doubt that you're in a fit state yet, Ron. We should at least stay here the night."

Ron looked back at Dumbledore. "Can I have my wand, please?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"I'm not going to kill him, I promise."

Dumbledore nodded. Lupin walked over and reached into his cloak.

"We found this next to the tree where you were struck. We thought it was probably yours."

Ron took the wand from Lupin and felt it glide into his hand. He checked the tip to see that it still contained the burn mark from the night of the goblin attack. He nodded slowly, then stepped toward Nott and pointed his wand at him.

"Ennervate," he said.

Nott let out a groan and moved his head back and forth. His sunken eyes looked up groggily at Ron and then snapped open wide.

"No!" he cried.

"Yes!" said Ron. "Get up!"

"I seem to be tied to the tree, Weasel Face."

"Then we'll untie you! But if you try to run, I will personally make sure that your last moments are incredibly painful. We have something we need you to do."

***

"Sirius!" cried Harry.

The sound of many pairs of heavy, boot-clad footsteps came swarming down the small pavement between the school wall and the prison fence where Sirius, Harry, and Hermione were trying to escape.

"Nearly there," said Sirius, who was continuing to cut an arc in the fence with his wand.

"Stop!" yelled a voice. "Stop right there and put your hands up!"

"Oh, blast," said Sirius. He took his wand away from the fence. "Protego!" he cried.

A bright orange field erupted from the wand and surrounded the three of them.

"You'll have to keep cutting it yourself!" cried Sirius, still holding his wand aloft. "I can't do both spells at once!"

Hermione pointed her wand at the fence. "Dissect - "

She was stopped in mid hex as the loud sound of gunfire erupted all around them. Hermione screamed and fell to the ground, pulling Harry roughly down beside her. The bullets ricocheted off the shield charm.

Harry took out his wand and aimed it at the guards.

"No, Harry!" cried Sirius. "You won't get through the shield. Concentrate on that wall!"

"I don't think those are rubber bullets they're firing!" said Hermione frantically.

"The shielding charm will hold you!" said Sirius. "Now fire on that - "

But those were Sirius's last words. A white light, as bright as the sun, exploded from his stomach and enveloped the courtyard. The blocking shield immediately disappeared and Harry and Hermione found themselves flung into the air toward the guards who, fortunately for them, were also thrown backward. Hermione watched as one or two got to their feet again, however, and raised their weapons.

"Protego!" she cried.

An orange shielding charm went up again around her and Harry. Bullets resounded through the air and sizzled as they popped off the charm. It took every ounce of Hermione's concentration to keep the shield charm holding and she was obviously not as good at it as Sirius. With every bullet that hit the outside of the shield, it got a little smaller until soon it barely covered both of them.

"Harry!" she cried out. "We have to move back over to that fence! I can't hold this up much longer!"

But Harry was in another world.

"SIRIUS!" he cried out. "SIRIUS!"

Hermione shot a glance back to see that, if anything, the light surrounding Sirius had grown even larger. In the midst of its painful brightness, she could just make out Sirius's outline, his black mangy hair framing his struggle to remain where he was. Finally, he seemed to grow smaller and lighter like he was being sucked away from them to another point. At the very last moment, Hermione was certain she saw him grin one last time and throw out his arms, then the white light exploded with a final burst of energy. Both she and Harry were leveled to the ground but Hermione gritted her teeth and forced herself to hold onto her wand and maintain the shield charm. She could just about make out the cries of the guards as the wave of energy picked them up like matchsticks and scattered them against the wall of the school. Then just as suddenly as it had begun, the light faded, but with it went Sirius Black.

"Sirius!" Harry cried again, getting to his feet. "Where is he - he can't be - SIRIUS!"

Hermione lay on the ground, completely exhausted, her shield charm now extinguished. She looked over and saw that all of the guards were motionless but then she heard fresh cries, shouts, and the sound of more running. Summoning all her remaining willpower, she forced herself to her feet.

"SIRIUS!" Harry cried out again.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed frantically. "Harry, he's gone! Harry, we've got to get out of here!"

Harry turned around to look at her, an expression of almost childlike disbelief on his face.

"No, no, h - he's not. H - he can't be. H - he's just disappeared. He'll be - "

The footsteps grew closer. Hermione had every bit of sympathy for Harry but she knew that their time had run out. She yanked Harry's elbow hard and pulled him toward the fence.

"Dissectum!" she shrieked.

The remaining corner of fence blew away, leaving an opening just large enough for the two of them to fit through. Hermione shoved Harry forward and then followed after just as the footsteps rounded the side of the school toward them.

They found themselves in the gap between an inner and outer fence. Hermione pointed her wand at the outer fence.

"Dissectum! Dissectum! Dissectum!" she shrieked hysterically.

Shots rang out toward them again. Fortunately, Harry seemed to choose this moment to recover his senses.

"Stupefy!" he cried, pointing his wand up at the guard in the watchtower above them.

Hermione watched as the curse hit home. The guard let out a little cry and then fell from the tower to the ground.

The fence exploded haphazardly in several places. Hermione and Harry both kicked at it hard until it twisted enough to allow them to run through. They were now outside the prison school altogether. Apparently, Sirius had made a good choice for they soon found a rough path leading up from the grassy perimeter of the prison out into the thick forested hill behind the school. They sprinted hard toward the woods and heard fresh shots fly through the air over their heads.

"Stupefy!" Harry cried, indiscriminately firing into a mass of guards that were trying to squeeze through the opening they had created and watching as one fell to the ground.

"Petrificus Totalis!" shouted Hermione. Her hex struck home on one of the guards just as he was climbing through the opening. Frozen in mid-step, he blocked the entranceway completely.

Harry and Hermione turned back toward the forest and continued to run. They did not stop even as they reached it. Gradually, the sounds of shouting and running grew fainter. But neither held any illusions that they were out of trouble yet.

***

The late spring sun journeyed slowly toward the horizon as what remained of the Order of the Phoenix and their prisoner reached the top of the hill next to the forest they'd just left. Ron watched as Dumbledore waved his wand almost casually over the large trees next to them as though he was drawing a painting. The trees turned transparent and they could see down into the valley below. In a better mood, Ron might have appreciated Dumbledore's superior magical abilities as well as the breathtaking sunset that reflected off the lakes like light on a necklace of rubies. As it was he made sure to keep a close eye on Nott. Dumbledore studied the scenery closely himself and Ron did not think it was for aesthetic reasons.

"There," he said finally, pointing at a spot just above the horizon in a dense patch of woods. "Do you see it, Remus?"

Lupin hesitated for a moment then squinted. "A break in the clouds?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Recall the legends."

Lupin nodded. "The pentrax frame repels all interference, even atmospheric interference."

Ron watched Nott cautiously for any signs that Dumbledore had discovered something important but the Death Eater remained stoic. He had no doubt he would try whatever was necessary to lead them into a trap. He had argued with Dumbledore before they had left the wooded clearing that they needed to put Nott under the Imperius Curse. He was sure the Headmaster possessed the ability. But Dumbledore would hear nothing of it saying only that too many shortcuts had been taken already - whatever that meant.

Dumbledore nodded. "That's the lake we're looking for. Still at least two days journey, I fear, if we're to avoid being seen. We'll have to pass through a Muggle farming area before we reach the forest with the lakes."

"What's that patch of black down there in between those hedgerows?" asked Ron, shooting a very quick glance down to the valley. "It's not a river, is it?"

"If I'm not mistaken," Dumbledore replied, "that is not a natural feature of the landscape. It appears to be a Muggle lane."

"You mean Muggle cars go up and down on it?" Ron asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "Which means we must be doubly cautious to avoid it. We mustn't be seen. Muggles have all kinds of rules about land and trespassing and we can hardly afford to waste our time trying to explain ourselves."

"It looks like it ends up not far from those woods," said Ron, squinting into the distance. "Maybe we can catch a Muggle transport or something and get there faster."

"Muggle transport is very unreliable, Ron," cautioned Lupin, sounding just like Nevins. "We could end up anywhere. See how that lane winds around? They can't even drive in a straight line."

"Look, how about this then - you can both Apparate and hold onto your memories somehow, right? We'll get the information we need from Scarhead here now and then I'll take care of him. Otherwise, I'm holding you up."

"Far too risky, Ron," said Lupin.

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "I don't think I have to tell you that a lot of trouble has been created through separation. We have to stay together if we're to have any chance of - "

"Did someone say Apparate?"

Dumbledore and Lupin darted around to find the source of the strange, croaky voice. Sensing a trap, Ron tightened his grip on his wand which was still pointed at Nott. He was rewarded with a thin smile from the Death Eater.

Out of the corner of his eye, however, he could not help but miss the oddity that had just wandered into their midst. An old man, dressed from head to toe in what seemed to be hand woven purple robes and an enormously long pointed purple hat walked out of nowhere up to Dumbledore and Lupin. A galaxy of bright moons and stars were stitched to the outside of the cloak. To a Muggle, his clothes might have been the strangest thing about him. Ron had seen far stranger costumes from visiting guests at the Yule Ball his fourth year. To him, the strangest thing about this wizard - and Ron assumed he could only be a wizard - was that the stars and moons did not move. They also seemed to have been stitched on roughly by hand rather than conjured synthetically like robes from Madam Malkin's. He looked something more like a character from the pages of Hogwarts: A History than any modern-day wizard.

"And who might you be, sir?" asked Lupin.

"Archimedes Wiggins," the stranger declared, drawing himself up as tall as he could. "And who might you fine gentlemen be?"

"It's a trick!" said Ron suddenly, keeping his wand aimed firmly at Nott. "Don't trust - "

But Dumbledore held up a restraining hand.

"I am Albus Dumbledore; this my colleague Remus Lupin; and Ronald Weasley."

"And what about him - eh?" Wiggins pointed his walking stick at Nott. "Does he have a name, too? And what's that you've got in your hand, lad?"

"It's a wand," said Ron incredulously. "Are you sure you're a wizard?"

"Well, what else could I be, dressed like this?" Wiggins replied, sounding rather crotchety. "I was the only wizard in these parts once upon a day. Them lords don't like more than one about at a time, that's for certain." Wiggins chuckled. "A wand, you say?" he said to Ron. "I heard o' them. That chap Merlin's got one, hasn't he? Still - " Wiggins' voice trailed off. "I reckon all o' you have one now. I reckon a lot has changed, hasn't it? There probably aren't more lords or anything these days."

"Merlin?" said Ron incredulously. "But Merlin's - "

"Can't you see it, Weasel Face?"

Ron shuddered a little as he watched a fuller, stranger smile work its way on to Nott's emaciated face.

"He's a sign. A sign of wonders."

"That's right," said Wiggins suddenly. "Though wonders I don't know. I shouldn't rightly be here, I suppose." He looked down at the ground, almost thoughtfully. "Still, nice to be back in me ol' stompin' grounds for a few minutes anyhow. Gentlemen."

Wiggins bowed with a flourish and then abruptly vanished into thin air.

"What the - " said Ron.

"Are you going to tell Weasel Face then?" said Nott, looking across at Dumbledore and seeming very pleased with himself.

Dumbledore looked at Ron. He seemed very worried indeed.

"Mr. Nott is correct, I'm afraid. That was a sign."

"A sign?" repeated Ron. "Y - you mean that - he said 'Merlin' but Merlin's - " Ron's voice trailed off. "He was a ghost?"

"Not a ghost, Ron," said Lupin wearily. "Someone who has died and is not a ghost."

"But that's not possible."

"It shouldn't be," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort's attempts to drive into the world beyond the gateway are creating more and more instability. Mr. Wiggins was here only for a few minutes. After a while, it could be longer. I fear we haven't much time."

"Why do you fear it?" asked Nott, a feverish passion in his eyes. "Soon all the dead will return. And we will never leave when we die. The Dark Lord will bring salvation from death unto all!"

"The two worlds cannot co-exist," replied Dumbledore firmly. "The Dark Lord will bring only chaos and destruction unless we can prevent him and that is precisely what I plan to do."

Nott opened his mouth to respond but before he could, Dumbledore spoke again.

"I am not here to debate ontology with you, Mr. Nott. We have a mission and you are going to help us succeed. The appearance of Mr. Wiggins has underscored the urgency of our predicament. We need to get moving; we have very little time left."

Nott opened his mouth to deliver another retort but he was silenced again, this time by Ron.

"Shut up!" he said. "Move!" He waved his wand at Nott, indicating that he should continue to walk ahead of them down the hill and out toward the valley. Nott flashed Ron one last hideous smile and then turned to walk in the direction he had pointed.

***

Harry knew he was exhausted but he forced himself to keep climbing up the path. He could hear the shouts and cries from the voices behind them getting nearer. Looking back down the hill, he could see the searchlights from the school pointed out toward them. He could also see that Hermione was losing ground behind him again. He stopped to let her catch up.

"I'm exhausted!" she declared.

Harry reached out and took hold of Hermione's hand. "Come on," he said. "We can do this. We've got to."

"But, Harry, where are we going?"

"I don't know."

But Sirius would have known.

Harry desperately tried to shut away the pain and loss from his mind. Until Sirius had disappeared, Harry hadn't realized how much he'd come to depend on the man who had called himself his godfather. Sirius had known that his time with them would be short. He had tried to give them the magical abilities they would need to fend for themselves, and perhaps he had succeeded. But it hadn't prepared Harry for the emotional loss. He'd never really had a true mentor his whole life, someone he could look up to, someone he could believe in. Only now he realized that Sirius had been that person. His selfless quest to better them; his insolence in the face of authority; his courage in the face of his own demise. Harry wondered that if he had met Sirius earlier in his life, maybe he never would have grown up to murder his aunt. But then Sirius had told him he'd never really done that - that it had all been a lie. Part of Harry felt like he'd be cruel to his godfather's memory by not believing him now, but another part of him wondered, now that Sirius was gone, whether he could find the courage to have faith in something that his memories still told him was a lie. Maybe the best -

"Harry!" said Hermione insistently. "Harry, please! Please don't stop walking. I need you to stay with me!"

"I - I'm sorry," Harry replied, as though noticing Hermione for the first time. "My mind's not - I'm just - " He sighed loudly.

Hermione looked at him with compassion. "I understand what you're feeling, Harry, but we've got to go on. If we don't lose these guards now, we're never going to get another chance to escape, and that would be a pretty poor way to honor Sirius's memory."

"I - I know - I know that, Hermione. All right, come on."

Harry kept walking ahead and struggled to keep his mind on what he was doing. He knew that Hermione was right; there would be time to grieve later but only if they weren't caught. If the guards caught up to them, it would be the end of their memories of being anything better than worthless convicts. It would also be the end of Harry's memories of his godfather. As much as it pained him to lose Sirius, Harry couldn't bear the thought of not being able to remember their time together.

He and Hermione continued to walk up the steep path further into the forest. The trail became narrower and darker as the forest grew more dense. Hermione stumbled over the root of a tree that neither of them saw sticking up from the path and would have fallen if Harry hadn't held onto her. It was obvious she was completely exhausted from keeping up the blocking charm and then the walk. Harry kept hold of her hand and practically dragged her along behind him. He dearly wished that Sirius had taught him the levitation charm he'd mentioned a few weeks ago, but as with a lot of things, there hadn't been time.

"This path just goes on and on forever!" Hermione said, panting and groaning.

"Just a bit further," said Harry, trying to keep the despair out of his voice. "I think we can't be far from the top of the hill. We drove around the other side of it when they took us to that amusement park, remember?"

"I wish we could be doing something normal like being bored in the rain in an amusement park now!"

"I know, Hermione, but we've just got to go on! We've just got to!"

This plea seemed to spur Hermione forward more than anything else Harry had said. The truth was he had no idea where they were going or when they would be able to rest any more than she did. The area around the prison was mostly woods and a few small farms in the distance. Who would possibly agree to take in a pair of escaped convicts? They could be sure the school would increase their efforts to search for them; faster than it would take them to walk to safety, the surrounding inhabitants would know of their escape. They were sure to close their doors to Harry and Hermione or worse, turn them back in to the authorities at the school. Harry vaguely recalled in the years before his crime sitting and watching the television in his aunt and uncle's house and hearing of an escaped prisoner. Police had gone looking for him everywhere: it hadn't taken them more than two or three days to find him. Harry remembered wondering why he had bothered to run in the first place when the odds had been stacked so highly against him. But now here he was doing the same thing. He could only hope that their magical abilities would get them further. But where they were supposed to walking to or what kind of life they might have after this, Harry could not possibly imagine. Sirius had had a plan and a vision but now Sirius was gone.

Harry tried to tell himself not to think so far ahead. For now, they just had to keep walking. They had to distance themselves from the guards. They weren't going to give up. Harry knew this hill; he had looked at it wistfully nearly every day through the bars of their prison. It didn't go on all that much further, surely.

Finally, the path widened slightly and the trees began to thin. Harry felt a cautious hope as he heard his feet touch a grassy clearing and felt the steep ground begin to slowly level off. A sharp wind rushed toward him as he and Hermione moved out onto the exposed ground at the top of the hill. Harry gave his friend's hand a squeeze of encouragement. They had reached the top now and after that they'd be moving downhill. Perhaps then they could put some distance between -

Harry's thoughts came to a sudden stop. Hermione gasped sharply. Both of them froze.

They had made it out into the clearing now. Rocks, grass, and earth strewed the ground on a level summit that stretched several hundred yards across and about forty yards ahead. From where they stood, they should have been able to see the other side of the valley ahead of them. But there was no other side of the valley. Farmhouses did not twinkle their islands of light across an expanse of rolling English meadows. The stars did not gleam in the clear night's sky over the horizon. In fact, there was no horizon at all.

If seeing was believing, forty yards ahead of them, just beyond the top of the last trees they had seen every day from their prison school, the world came to an end.

It was like a grey, almost foggy, non-descript mass, with specks of bright color: blue, red, green, and yellow flickering intermittently like trillions of mutated fireflies hanging in the air. It reminded Harry of a multi-colored version of the snow on a television set.

"Hermione, d - do you see - "

"This is - this is just not - Harry, this is not possible!"

"I think we may have left the possible behind at the school."

Harry looked up. The amorphous grey nothingness cut right across the top of the sky just below the line of the trees they had walked through. On one side were bright shimmering stars and thin wisps of clouds; below a certain point there was nothing but this speckled grayness. A half-moon moved down through the sky near the point where the sky itself ended, its light shining out in all directions except down. It was as though it was drifting toward a black hole.

"B - but Harry," said Hermione. "You and I came here - to this school. Th - they brought us here in one of their prison vans. We drove along a road - down there - " Hermione pointed vaguely at a spot in the grey vortex where the road should have been. " - a - and when my parents came - how did they get here? And that day we went to the amusement park. Harry, you must remember!"

"I do remember, Hermione," said Harry, staring out into the mesmerizing void. "But that doesn't mean it actually happened."

"You mean - "

"Think about what Sirius told us. He said he wanted to get us out of this world. He also said the whole world had been made up, out of my mind. Well, this would explain what he said."

"Harry, I still don't understand!"

"Think, Hermione! Think beyond what you think you know is true. If the whole world we've been living in is an illusion, and we were trapped inside that prison, all that Voldemort would need to do was create a reality up to the end of what we could see. We couldn't see past the top of this hill, or any of the hills that surrounded the prison. Maybe that's all St. Brutus's ever was in my mind, a closed space in a closed valley." Harry pointed up to the sky. "Every night we go to bed thinking that the moon keeps on traveling as it disappears behind those trees; or the sun in the daytime. But maybe it never did. Maybe just beyond our line of sight was nothing, nothing but our false memories."

There was a pause. Harry watched as Hermione put her hands to her head. She had the sharpest mind of anyone he'd ever met but all this seemed beyond her.

"A - all right, Harry," she finally said. "Suppose Sirius was right. Suppose you're right. What are we going to do next? Those guards are after us and I don't think the bullets from their guns were an illusion. We can't go in there!" she pointed at the vortex. "Are we just going to lead them round and round in circles at the edge of a make-believe world?"

"I don't know, Hermione."

"Well, we've got to do something!"

"I know, Hermione, I - "

Harry stopped very suddenly. He had almost gotten used to the idea that they had peeled back the wallpaper of their lives to find it was only a set in a farcical play, but now even that set collapsed all around them. It was as though a malevolent god of the heavens had gathered all of the stars into its fist and left nothing but total darkness. The balmy night air suddenly grew very cold.

"H - Harry," said Hermione fearfully. "Wh - what's happening now?"

"I - I don't know - I - "

Harry stopped. He had just heard a sound. A horrible, unnatural sound, a sound he instantly knew meant fear and evil itself. It was a heaving, rattling sound like a poisoned pair of lungs that were drawing in their very last breath.

***

Perception and realization danced for a moment on the edge of Ginny's awareness, then remembering what had happened, she grabbed hold of wakefulness with two firm hands. Within an instant, her eyes were wide open, and she had sat bolt upright.

"Hello, Ginny," said Malfoy. "You should take things more slowly, you know. I'm afraid my Death Eaters showed a bit too much enthusiasm bringing you here. I made sure they suffered, of course. But I should warn you against any sudden movements."

Ginny reached quickly into the pocket of her dress but, of course, her wand was no longer there.

"What do you want?" she demanded, pressing her fingers down against the crude mattress against which she had been resting to will herself to remain as alert as possible. "Let me go, Malfoy! I'm useless to you! If you keep me here against my will, you'll have trouble, believe me!"

Malfoy said nothing but smiled. It was a most un-Draco-like smile. It was in fact exactly the sort of smile she remembered on the face of Lord Voldemort in the original room at Hogwarts one year ago right before he had ordered Snape to kill her. Right before Snape had not been Snape but had really been Dumbledore. But now there was no Dumbledore to rescue her; she herself had made sure of that.

"I asked you what you wanted!"

"We've been over this before, Ginny, or have you forgotten? I want you. I have your body and I want your will. In time, I will have both."

Malfoy stood up from the strange-looking stool on which he had been sitting and began to walk slowly near her. Instinctively, Ginny flinched back, the locks of her long red hair falling away from her face as she did so. Malfoy unexpectedly froze as though Ginny had thrown a hex at him. He stepped backward and pointed at her face.

"Wh - wh - what did they do to you? What primitive, half-breed scrawling is that?"

"The J'k'ibir? You don't like it? It would go very nicely on your forehead."

Malfoy's face turned an angry red. He pointed a smoldering finger at Ginny's face.

"I made Dolores Umbridge pay to stop her from drawing a scar on your hand and now you run off and let - "

Malfoy stopped in mid-sentence. Ginny flicked her hand across her face and the J'k'ibir ran away. His face transformed into the smile of a pleasant surprise.

"That's much better. I see you've begun to understand my appreciation for your beauty, Ginny. Perhaps in time - "

Ginny flicked her hand again. The J'k'ibir walked back. Malfoy's smile immediately faded.

"I would be very careful, Ginny," Malfoy said, his lower lip tensing in anger. "I could tear that house-elf village apart in my sleep, find the one who put this thing on your face, and then torture it until its little life comes to an end. Would you like that, Ginny?"

Ginny fought her fear down. Part of her wanted to surrender and agree. It would be so simple just to remove the mark, just while she was here. But she knew that she couldn't do that either. The last time she'd been imprisoned by Lord Voldemort he'd slowly taken over her body and her soul, and she'd been left only passive and powerless. Now he wanted her will as well: Ginny knew that if she gave in to him this time, he'd be halfway to taking everything she had left of herself, and she wasn't sure she was strong enough to recover a second time.

"You don't know where that village is," she replied, trying to sound as defiant as she could.

"But it wouldn't be very hard, Ginny. A bit of a waste of time to be sure, especially now I already have you, but if you leave me with no choice, Ginny - "

"Where are we, Malfoy?"

Malfoy smiled. It hadn't been hard for him to see through her efforts to change the topic, but he indulged her question nonetheless.

"We are on the edge of destiny, Ginny. A destiny you could share in - if you'd only let me in."

"Actually, I meant a place."

Ginny knew that Malfoy was unlikely to tell her too much. She didn't know how long he would keep her conscious and she needed to find out as much as she could in that time. She wanted to keep the conversation going, and keep directing the conversation. If nothing else, she could take the time to look around and find out a few things for herself.

Ginny kept her head pointed at Malfoy but she moved her eyes around the room. It was very small but she had the feeling it was part of somewhere much larger. It was a strange, organic-looking room. It was mostly round and there were no corners. The surfaces were rough but fragile-looking, like it had been carved haphazardly out of the wall, the giant sand castle of an oversized child. It was grey and dark: only one torch shone dimly in the corner of a makeshift bracket. She was sitting on a sort of long bed with no blankets. It was comfortable enough but hardly inviting. Malfoy sat on an odd sort of stone stool that looked like an extension of the floor itself. There was no door to the room and no other apparent means of escape. Malfoy must have Apparated here and she had been Portkeyed.

"That's right, Ginny," Malfoy said, following her eyes. "There's no way out. If you must know, we're in exactly the place that you yourself - not to mention your brother and his friends - were trying to reach. You should try and make yourself comfortable. You won't be here for very long. Please forgive me but your misguided loyalties will lead you to resist me and you know I don't want to hurt you. We're very near the completion of my plans - only days are left, maybe only hours. Imagine it, Ginny," Malfoy's eyes lit up with a sudden intensity. "A world with no death. Think of anyone you have ever loved and lost: all of them will come back to you. And you'll never be apart from them again."

Ginny felt the anger rise in her cheeks. She gratefully let it simmer, hoping it could keep her fear away.

"Anything and anyone I've lost, I've lost because of you!"

Malfoy's smile went away again. "I'm very sorry about your brother, Ginny. I had to stop him but you'll be with him together again very soon."

"You're mad, Tom."

Malfoy flinched again as Ginny hoped he would.

"Why do you use a name that doesn't belong to me, Ginny? I became something much greater so long ago and now I am greater still."

Ginny shook her head. "No, I think you're still just Tom, and that's all you'll ever be. You're not immortal and you're not a god, but you're doing your best to destroy everything and everyone to try to become one. Tell me, Tom: this plan of yours - raising the dead and never dying - was this what you promised Malfoy when you took over his mind that night? Or was it fame, greed, and the power to possess pretty girls? I imagine that would have been more to his liking. All of this rot about immortality seems much more the sort of thing an ugly-looking snake who never seems to die would go in for."

Malfoy smiled again. "I could not have imagined that night the greatness of the Dark Lord's plans for all of us, if that's what you mean. But he has taught me much since that night."

"Like how to kill and torture people? How to summon up enough dark magic to blow up the world? All very useful. Why don't you admit that you're terrified, Draco? Why don't you try and resist?"

In truth, Ginny had no idea whether Malfoy was terrified at all or if there was truly anything left of him to be terrified anymore. But if there was, he was in a much better position to end all this than she was.

Malfoy stared at her stoically for a moment, apparently unfazed, but thoughtful enough that he could not master a quick retort. When he spoke, however, it was with steady calm.

"Soon you will stop asking questions like these, Ginny. Soon you will know the gift that the Dark Lord is bringing to all. Soon all of your doubts will be at an end. Until that time, I suggest you rest. I must leave now; there are many preparations that require my attention. There is no way for you to escape from here and there are guards nearby. Do not waste your mental energies trying to think up a way out."

"I will think of anything I can do to stop you, Tom, even if you can forever cheat death. I won't ever forget about Harry."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Ginny? Harry is dead - or as good as - thinking about him will only cause you pain. Why let yourself suffer for nothing?"

"Harry's not dead! He's coming here to rescue me!"

For the first time since their conversation had started, Ginny lost control of her emotions. Tears pricked her eyes but she forced them back. She was determined not to let this monster anywhere near the fortress of her mind again.

Malfoy frowned at her in disbelief. "You're a truly remarkable witch, Ginny," he declared. "What possibly gave you that idea?"

Ginny had no idea what had made her say what she had. She hoped it was an intuition but feared in her heart of hearts that it was only a deluded fantasy. But she wasn't going to let Draco Malfoy know that.

They stared at each other for a moment longer. Malfoy's eyes bore into hers for a few moments and she had the sudden impression he was trying to uncover some kernel of knowledge from the back of her mind. When he was unsuccessful and realizing she was not going to say anymore, he Disapparated and left her.

Ginny waited for the loud crack of Malfoy's departure to fade from the small room. Only then did she allow a sob to leave her mouth and let the tears cascade down her cheeks as her mental defenses relaxed. So, Ron was dead. Or was he? Malfoy had told her he was dead before and he'd been wrong then. And Harry? As good as, he had said. So Harry wasn't dead yet, but Malfoy obviously planned to kill him. Ginny didn't imagine for a moment there was any easy way out of this cell but that wasn't going to stop her from planning her escape.

***

The rattling sound got nearer and louder. All around Harry and Hermione, it was still completely black.

Hermione suddenly tugged on Harry's sleeve and let out a sharp shriek. Harry spun around.

Up in the black sky just above him was some kind of wraith-like spirit: it was long and covered almost completely in a cloak. Where its face should have been there was only darkness. All that peaked out from the behind the cloak was a horrible grey, scaly-looking arm.

"Harry, what is it?"

"I don't - I don't know," said Harry, backing up but not taking his eyes away from the spirit. "But I don't think it seems very friendly. Run!"

Harry and Hermione sprinted blindly away from the horrible scepter. They had no idea whether they were still on the meadow or where they were running to. The rattling noise grew more insistent and Harry looked back to see the spirit drifting effortlessly above them. He started to run faster. Suddenly, he heard a cry and the sound of Hermione falling. He tried to reach out his hand to grab her but it caught only air. He doubled back around to see her just on the ground behind him, apparently motionless. The spirit hung in the sky for a moment, then slowly began to make its way toward her.

"Hermione!" Harry cried. "Hermione, hang on, I'm - "

But Harry never reached Hermione. He was less than two feet from where she was lying when a second ghost dropped from the sky right in front of him. He tried to duck under it but the creature's head drew level with his. Suddenly, Harry felt as though his mind was being pulled away from him. Memories of strangers danced through his head - a laughing baby, a boy playing chess, a man with a long white beard and small spectacles. They were all smiling but one by one their smiles seemed to disappear as though torn away into a void of meaninglessness. Harry dimly felt pain in his knees and looked down to find that he, too, had fallen to the ground. His head was pounding; more images tore through his mind and this time all of them were horrible: the menacing sneer of Headmaster Snape; the sickly, evil smile of Dolores Umbridge; and more - figures with masks laughing, burning. A baby crying. A woman's voice screaming his name and the high-pitched teal of evil laughter. All this while the scepter's head bowed closer to his. It lowered his hood; it had no eyes, only horrible slimy skin where its eyes should have been. Its mouth was just a large hole, a hole that moved nearer and nearer to Harry. He could feel it sucking away his mind, his memories, his very consciousness. Its cold, dark hands touched Harry's face and then the world began to fade completely around him.

But just when consciousness had almost completely eluded him, one more image found its way into Harry's mind. It started off fuzzily but then grew gradually clear, and finally impossibly lucid as something only in a dream can be.

It was a drawing. Harry's drawing. The head and the face of a girl, still roughly etched on the back of a box of old sweets. Harry suddenly felt a kind of still calm develop inside him. He wasn't going to fade away. His strength would return. Just so long as he concentrated on the drawing.

Harry had no sooner decided this when the drawing exploded into life. The curves and lines of the penciled silhouette began to dazzle with color and form. A head full of bright red hair lit from behind by a setting sun. A milky-white face, round freckles, and soft brown eyes that were filled with all of the meaning the spirit had been sucking away from him. He felt warm arms around his neck and then his own hands were holding silky hair and the soft fabric of a warm cloak. Suddenly, Harry was transported far away from the meadow, far away from the hellish spirit, out to somewhere utterly unknown that felt just like coming home. The girl's mouth opened and a melodious voice began to sound in the middle of Harry's empty soul and stretch out inside it like a pocket of light in an inky blackness.

I love you, Harry. I've always loved you.

Harry felt a sudden jolt in his arm - his real arm. A bright light exploded from his wand and lit up the scepter's frame. It put its arms up to its hood, screamed in rattling agony, and disappeared again into the sky. Harry felt his head begin to clear. He sat up and saw that the other spirit was leaning over Hermione and had begun to place its face to her lips as though kissing her. Feeling renewed energy surge through his body, Harry got to his feet and tried to rush over, but the light, which had taken the form of some sort of animal, got there before him. It flung its legs high into the air. The spirit threw up its head and began to cry out. Then it, too, disappeared into the darkness. The animal stopped and turned around as if to look at Harry and then it slowly faded as well. Harry felt warm air surround him again and looked up to see that the stars, the trees, and the strange grey mass behind the meadow had reappeared.

He looked at his wand for a moment in astonishment and then quickly reached down toward Hermione, taking her head into his arms. He let out a sigh of relief as he saw her slowly open her eyes though her face was still deathly pale.

"Wh - what was that thing?" she asked. "I - I - oh, Harry, I've never felt so horrible in my life! It was like I'd never feel joy again."

"I know - I - I felt it, too; it was horrible. Hermione, can you stand up? I know it sounds awful but we've still got to get out of here. They could be coming for us any - "

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. I never dreamed you could chase away the Dementors without even remembering how to conjure the Patronus. Or perhaps your godfather managed to re-teach you the charm, after all."

Harry looked at Hermione. There was a horrible combination of lethargy and fear on her face and he doubted he looked much better. Grimly, she held out her hand to him and he pulled her to her feet. Both balanced gingerly on their toes and turned to face their interlocutor.

Dolores Umbridge stood about twenty feet away from them, her nun's habit blustering in the wind that was blowing out from the vortex behind them. Around her stood several nuns, their expressions completely blank, and about a dozen guards, each with very large looking guns at their side. The guards formed a semicircle around them, trapping their escape back into the forest. Harry and Hermione instinctively backed up but stopped as they felt their feet touch the edge of the meadow and the end of their world.

"Remarkable, isn't it?" said Umbridge. "The power of memory. We think we know exactly who we are and where we are, but then it all fades away like an illusion, the figment of our collective imaginations. I would step away from the edge if I were you. The nexal interface will cut you to pieces. It's not very pleasant."

Harry and Hermione took a small step toward Umbridge but did not come any closer.

"You're not really a nun, are you?" said Hermione. "You're a witch - just like Sirius told us."

"A very astute observation from one who delights in asking awkward questions."

Harry took another step forward. "What did you do with Sirius?" he demanded.

"It's what he did to himself, Mr. Potter. But do not pity him: he's returned where he belongs. And so will you."

"We don't belong here, that's for certain," said Harry. "No more than you do."

"Oh, but I'm afraid that you do, Mr. Potter. Both of you. I'm afraid that your godfather only really shared with you part of the story. And it was a very slanted part."

"At least he told us the truth!" Hermione shot back. "Everything you've told us - everything those nuns taught us all those years - it's all been a pack of lies!"

"My dear Miss Granger, I hope you won't incriminate these wonderful ladies on my behalf. Fascinating creatures Muggles - forgive me, a sort of human species that appear like wizards and witches but are unable to practice magic. They have a relentless faith in their own convictions, never pausing to think how limited their little world really is. All of these nuns, as you call them, actually believed they were giving you some sort of re-education. I was surprised at how little magic we had to use to keep them obedient. The Memory Charm mostly sufficed. Of course, tonight I had to put them under a sort of controlling spell. They're not really ready to see all this." She gestured out toward the vortex behind them. "But normally they're extremely docile. They're a little like well-bred pets, you might say."

"Well, we're not pets!" Harry said. "Why are we here?"

"Why, Mr. Potter, this school was created just for you - and your other Muggle-born friends. We do not presume to restrict Muggles in their own world. For some time now, they've been allowed certain territories and they have remained ignorant of our existence. We brought a number here to act as teachers and students and fill out this world, but we really had you in mind. You are a special case - both of you, and the several others like you in the school. In the future, those in a similarly unnatural situation as you will be singled out at a young age and brought here. Their memories will be modified and they will learn in our school."

"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded. "I thought we were wizards. I can perform magic just as well as you can!"

"I think you'll find that's not the case, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter here is a half-blood. You yourself have no wizarding blood at all. Your parents are both Muggles. You have managed to acquire some rudimentary magical skills due to a sort of freak abnormality we do not understand. For many years you were educated as wizards and witches. But that has proved most costly. You have married our kind, poisoned our gene pool, and weakened us. Once we have isolated you and those like you in our school, we will eliminate your abnormality. Wizard-kind will be pure and strong once again. And you will be taken good care of and not subjected to false hopes and standards which you cannot attain."

Hermione shook her head. "You're not going to convince me that telling little Arabella Wycliffe she murdered her father is for her own good!"

"But I'm afraid it is, Miss Granger. We have to convince our students they belong at the school. Otherwise, they will try to escape as you have done. A dose of humility is the only antidote to aspirations beyond one's own nature. Things won't always be as they are now, you know. In time, you'll be released from your prison and returned to Muggle society. Having learned your limitations, you can live out your lives as respectable members of a limited and self-delusional but nonetheless perfectly happy community."

"You mean we'll live the rest of our lives as a lie!" Harry spat back.

Umbridge tutted and shook her head.

"You're both so attached to the truth. I suppose it's not your fault: it's how you've been taught. But the truth can give you nothing worth having: it cannot bring happiness; it cannot bring peace. Imagine if all the world knew the truth about everything: How would the rulers rule effectively? How could the people ever be content? Life is unhappy; truth is unhappier still. Only when we are selectively guided by those with real wisdom can we find true release from the harsh lessons of reality. Even these Muggles know it. Look at yourselves, both of you: weeks before your release into Muggle society, you attempt a foolhardy and dangerous escape. You were both nearly killed - or worse, if the Dementors had had their way. Tell me: was it worth it? I think not.

"If this were a real Muggle prison, you'd probably be killed on the spot. At best you'd be imprisoned again for a very long time. But I am prepared to be generous: return with me now, have a warm cup of tea, a good sleep, and tomorrow you won't remember any of this. You can go on with your football and netball and leave this school knowing you can spend the rest of your lives as good Muggle citizens on your way to a beautiful Muggle heaven. It's for your own good, you know. Would you really prefer to live out your lives obsessed with a goal you can never attain? Pained and longing for a truth beyond your ability to understand?"

There was a moment of silence. Umbridge continued to smile at them like a crocodile beckoning its prey into the water.

"Harry," whispered Hermione. "I - I'm not - I'm not going back."

"Hermione, we've got to - I don't like it but - but can't we at least play for time? Maybe we can try to lose them in the woods or - or something?"

"And then what? No, Harry." A single tear rolled down Hermione's cheek. "They're going to take us back. They're going to use a Memory Charm. And this time there won't be anyone to come and save us. We'll live the rest of our lives as a horrible lie."

"But - but then what - you don't mean - but, Hermione, we'll be - "

"Cut to pieces," finished Hermione. "She might be lying, you know. She's very good at it. But I don't care if she isn't, Harry. Living in that school isn't living at all. You can go if you like, but I can't. I won't."

Harry looked down at Hermione's tear-stained face. He thought about Sirius - how terrified they'd been when they'd first met him, how he had taught them magic and then taught them again, how they had slowly started to believe in themselves, and how he had gone out like a sun trying to save them. And all along he'd been telling the truth: they hadn't killed anyone; they weren't convicts and they weren't sinners.

"I'm staying with you," he said.

"A - are you sure, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Yes."

They turned around to face Umbridge again.

"There, there, Miss Granger," she said. "It's not all bad now, is it? Come along, both of you: everything's going to be just fine."

Hermione and Harry took hold of each other's hands, closed their eyes, and took one large step backward into the abyss.