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Losing Each Other | ||||||
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Category: Post-HBP, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 169 Summary: This story follows Harry and Ginny from their parting after Dumbledore's funeral. Much of it is told from Ginny's POV. The first chapter, "Ginny's Mermaid," was originally posted as a one-shot. I have revised it slightly as part of this longer story, but it is essentially the same as it was when I first posted it. Hitcount: Story Total: 106045; Chapter Total: 5036 |
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Hermione caught up to Harry as he passed The Three Broomsticks. A knot of people stood outside the door, looking up the street at the billows of black smoke. Rosmerta called out as they came by. “Harry, what happened? Was anyone hurt?” He ignored her, but Hermione nodded, and Rosmerta gasped and looked back up the street. They crossed the train tracks and started up the lane to the castle. “Harry, wait!” Hermione said, and took his arm. “What are we going to do?” Harry kept walking. “I don’t know yet, but my scar’s starting to hurt. I have a feeling he’ll try to tell me something.” “Who? Do you mean Voldemort?” Harry was about to speak when he cried out and stumbled. Hermione tried to catch him, but he fell to his knees, clutching his forehead. Hermione knelt next to him. “Is it your scar?” He cried out in pain again. “Aaah! Yes! But it – Damn you, get out!” He pulled himself up on Hermione’s shoulder, almost dragging her to the ground. He stood with his head in his hands, swaying, his eyes screwed shut. But then he opened them and stared at Hermione. “He showed me where they are.” “Harry!” a voice called from behind. “Wait!” Remus Lupin was running toward them, and Alastor Moody was a few yards back, looking almost comical as he skipped along on his artificial leg. Harry gritted his teeth, and started to turn away, but Hermione grabbed him. “No, Harry! Wait for them! Please!” He looked at her angrily. “We can’t wait, Hermione. He’ll kill them if we don’t –” He fell silent as Remus came up, blowing hard. “Harry, don’t do anything hasty. If he wants you to go after them, it’s a trap.” “I know it’s a trap. I can’t –“ He stopped again as Moody arrived, tripping and almost toppling into Lupin. “Damn it, Potter,” he huffed, “what the hell do you think you’re doing? You can’t rescue them by yourself. Do you remember what happened last time you tried to play hero?” Harry’s face went dark; an angry retort was on his lips, but Hermione tugged his arm, then took his hand; hers was shaking and he had never seen her so distraught. “Please, Harry,” she said in a quavering voice. “Please.” Harry looked at her for a moment, then he took a breath and nodded once. “Okay. I’ll wait. But not long. What’s your plan?” he asked Mad—Eye. “I don’t have a plan yet,” Moody growled. “Except not to go off half—cocked into a death trap.” Harry’s eyes flashed, and he started to turn away again, but this time Lupin caught his shoulder. “We’ll all go up to the castle, all right? Minerva must know by now that something happened. We’ll talk there, and –“ “Talk?” Harry was about to erupt. “You want to talk while Ginny and Ron are there with Voldemort?” “Where?” Moody cut in. “How do you know where they are?” Harry shot a look at Hermione. “It’s a guess. But who else could have them? If he wants me to go after them, they must be with him.” Lupin stepped between Harry and Mad—Eye. “Let’s not fight. That’s exactly what he wants us to do. Harry, please, come up to the castle and talk, just for a few minutes. Dumbledore will be there, and he’s sure to know something.” Harry muttered an assent under his breath, and started up the lane toward the gates. Hermione gave Remus a grateful look, then hurried after Harry. She took his arm again when she caught up. When they came in sight of the gates they saw a large crowd of students and parents milling and pushing before them. The gates themselves were open only wide enough to let one person through at a time. Standing inside were three Aurors and Argus Filch, who squinted at each person as they squeezed through. Harry looked back over his shoulder; Remus and Mad—Eye were right behind him. Remus smiled quickly; Moody’s normal eye stared at Harry while his magical one twirled in every direction, over the crowd, back to the lane and the village, then at the gates. Harry grabbed Hermione and pushed into the crowd. When they were surrounded by students and parents, Harry looked back again; Lupin and Moody had stayed back, although now Moody was peering at them with the magical eye. Harry leaned close to Hermione. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he whispered. “My scar was burning for a second, and that was Voldemort, but it was just to get my attention. He’s afraid to get inside me. Then a picture came into my head of where Ginny and Ron are. Snape put it there.” “Snape?” Hermione’s eyes bugged out. “Snape? He’s with Voldemort?” “I guess he’s using Snape to do his Legilimency, at least with me. And, Hermione, he said you have to come with me.” Hermione became even paler. “Me? Why? And where? For God’s sake, Harry, where are they?” Harry surveyed the people around them. Lupin and Moody were still several yards back. No one was paying Harry and Hermione any attention, they were all trying to push closer to the gate and the Aurors who were guarding it. He bent closer to Hermione and whispered directly into her ear. “The room with the veil in the Department of Mysteries, where Sirius died.” Hermione stared into Harry’s eyes, then bit her lip. “But why does he want me? It doesn’t make any sense.” They were almost at the gate, and Harry saw that there was a fifth person there: Professor Flitwick, and he was the one checking people coming through, not Filch. Harry continued speaking to Hermione in a low voice. “Once we get inside, we’re trapped. I’m sure they sealed the grounds. We’ll have to figure out how to get back out. Moody’s probably watching to keep us from Disapparating now.” “Not us, Harry. You. I’m not going anywhere.” Harry pushed her through the gate, a little harder than he had to, and she slapped his hand away. Professor Flitwick peered up as Harry passed; his face was dark. “Harry, be careful,” he said, and his normally squeaky voice had changed; it was still high—pitched, but somehow stern. “I’ll second that, and don’t push me again!” Hermione snarled as they hurried up the drive to the castle. “I’m sorry, I really am. I shouldn’t have done that. But I don’t intend to wait around for a committee to decide how to save Ginny. Here they come.” Lupin and Moody had spoken briefly with the Aurors at the gate, and were now also on their way up the drive. “I was afraid they’d both come inside,” said Harry. “Now we’ll have to find a way to keep Moody from seeing us with that stupid eye. Let’s get up to the common room, we’ll have some privacy.” Hermione said nothing about being included in Harry’s escape plans. When they climbed through the portrait hole they found most of the Gryffindors standing there, waiting. Conversations stopped when they saw Harry. Fearful faces met his eyes, and some of them were streaked with tears. Dean Thomas stepped forward. “Do you know what happened? Where are they?” “I need your help, Dean,” Harry said. “Give me ten minutes, then come up to the dorm with everyone who was in the DA, and anyone else who wants to help.” “Okay.” He went back to Neville and spoke to him and the others standing nearby. Harry pulled Hermione toward the stairs to the boys’ dorm. “Wait, Harry!” She pulled back. “What are we doing?” Harry stopped. “Please, just hear me out.” He started up the stairs, then looked back as Hermione hesitated. “Hermione,” he said softly, “don’t turn back, not now.” Her head jerked up and she looked at him. She shook her head once. Harry took her hand and led her up into his room and closed the door behind them. Hermione stared at Ron’s four—poster; her hands were twisting together. Harry turned her away from the bed. “We only have one chance,” he said, “and that’s for both of us to go. We’re not powerless, Hermione. He may know about the Patronus, but he doesn’t know I can do Inductive Magic. If Ginny still has her hair clasp, I can surprise him and –“ “But there will be at least two of them,” she interrupted. “Snape will be there, and he can read your mind, even if Voldemort can’t. Harry, you never learned Occlumency.” Harry frowned. “I know, and I don’t know what we can do about Snape, but that doesn’t change the fact that we only have one chance. We have to go there!” Hermione turned back to Ron’s bed and put her hand on the pillow. Then she lifted it, and picked up the brown teddy bear that was underneath. Her shoulders started shaking. Harry came and put his arm around her. “Okay,” she said in a choked voice. “We’ll both go.” She put the bear back on the pillow. There was a knock on the door. “Harry, it’s me,” Dean called, and Harry opened the door. “You should come down to the common room,” Dean said. “Everyone wants to help.” Mad—Eye Moody paced the floor in the Headmistress’s office from the window to the door and back. His magical eye was fixed on a spot on the wall, and remained focused on it even when he turned and limped back the other way. At the window he looked with his normal eye over the grounds to the mountains beyond; when he was not next to the window he stared straight ahead. Remus Lupin sat in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk, drumming his fingers nervously on the desktop. He and the Headmistress watched Moody stomp back and forth. Remus occasionally glanced at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore; the Headmaster was dozing in his chair. “Alastor, please sit,” Minerva said. “You’re making me nervous, and my nerves are quite shot enough as it is without your help.” “Fine,” Moody growled; he stopped pacing and stood next to Remus’s chair, but his magical eye didn’t leave the spot on the wall. “Is he still there?” Remus asked. Moody nodded. “But we have to do something, fast. The longer we sit around talking, the more likely he is to try something foolish.” He looked at the door. “Where the hell are they?” “Give him some credit,” McGonagall said. “He’s faced Voldemort four times and always come away the winner. How often have you done it?” Moody grunted. “Never. But Potter’s in a right state this time. His girlfriend and his best mate were snatched. Wherever they are, it’s a trap.” The door opened, and they all turned. Professor Flitwick entered, followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, the Weasley twins, and Bill Weasley. Tonks had a strange expression, and glanced sideways at Lupin. “Where are Arthur and Molly?” Remus asked Tonks. “Is Molly all right?” “We left her in the hospital wing, and Arthur and Fleur stayed with her. She’s wrecked.” Moody cleared his throat. “We’ll all be wrecked if the worst happens. Does Scrimgeour have a plan? Does he even know about this?” “I’m glad you brought that up, Alastor,” Kingsley said in his deep voice. “I received an owl five minutes ago from the Wizengamot. Rufus is out. You’re looking at the new Minister of Magic.” He grinned at their expressions. “The first son of Africa to hold the job. We’ll see how long I last.” “Kingsley, that’s the best news I’ve heard in a month,” Remus said, and clapped the Minister on his back. “But even with what happened today, it seems kind of sudden.” Kingsley shook his head and glanced at the figure sleeping in the portrait behind McGonagall’s desk. “There’s been a lot of discontent ever since Albus Dumbledore’s funeral. The fact that Hogwarts was attacked upset a lot of people. This place is where our future comes from. If it disappears, then Voldemort wins.” “And what happened today, so close to the school, was the final straw?” “Right. But there’s more news.” He smiled at Tonks. “I asked your lady to take over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as my first official appointment, but she doesn’t want a desk job, so she’s now Head Auror. Robards has the Department, as soon as he gets the owl.” Remus took Tonks’s hand. “All of this will please Harry, I’m sure.” Fred Weasley spoke. “Excuse me, Remus, but nothing will please Harry until my brother and sister are found. I’m rather out of sorts about it myself,” he added. “So let’s do something,” George finished. “Sorry,” said Lupin. “Kingsley?” he looked at Shacklebolt. “Minerva, can you get Harry down here?” Kingsley asked. “Right away.” She stood and came around her desk. She opened the door, but froze as loud explosions and whoops echoed up the spiral stairs from the hallway. “That sounds familiar,” said George, and he peered past the Headmistress out the door. The explosions became louder, and they heard more from another part of the castle. Then the whole castle erupted in one long, rumbling blast, and they all sprang for the door and in a moment were out and down the staircase. Only Professor Flitwick did not move; he was sitting on a stool in a corner, gazing up at Dumbledore’s portrait. The Headmaster was now awake, surveying Flitwick. “Is he gone yet?” Flitwick asked. Dumbledore nodded. “He will be in a moment.” “Do you know where he’s going?” “Haven’t a clue,” Dumbledore replied. “But I sincerely hope you taught him well, Filius.” “So do I,” Flitwick squeaked solemnly. “So do I.” When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and looked out into the common room, he stopped in amazement. Not only was every Gryffindor student there, but there were people from other Houses with them. In his entire time at Hogwarts he had never seen a non—Gryffindor in the common room. Ernie Macmillan stood next to his fellow—Hufflepuffs Carlotta Romani and Thurmond Thumpel. Erskine Labine was with two Ravenclaws who Harry recognized but didn’t know, and Luna Lovegood. And off to one side stood Elspeth Pendragon, and next to her the fourth—year girl who had spoken up at the Slytherin table the day Pansy died. Harry shook his head as though clearing a fog from his mind. “What are all these people doing here?” he asked Dean, who was at his side. “Let’s just say you have friends, Harry.” Dean put his hand on his shoulder. “And so do Ron and Ginny.” His voice seemed to catch, and Harry glanced at him. “I’m cool,” Dean said. “I thought your teammates might want to help, so we went looking for them, and they each brought some friends. We could have gotten more, but you said ten minutes.” Harry walked to Elspeth. “Thanks, I really appreciate this. And you are...?” He held his hand out to the other girl. She looked directly back at him and briefly shook his hand. She was short and plump, almost heavy, and she wore thick glasses; her dark hair was curly. “I’m Zania.” She pronounced her name with the accent on the second syllable. “Zania Black.” Harry gave a start. “Black? Are you...“ “Sirius and Regulus were my second cousins. The Death Eaters killed them, and that’s why I’m here.” “Oh.” Harry tried to picture the Black family tree from the tapestry at Grimmauld Place, but it was fuzzy in his memory. “Sirius was my godfather. You know that, don’t you?” Zania nodded. “What can I do?” Harry beckoned for Elspeth and Zania to follow him, and he moved to the center of the room where everyone circled around; Hermione and Dean stood next to him. The faces he saw were somber, some were frightened, some were grim, but they all met his eyes. He remembered walking to the clearing at the Burrow with Ginny the day after Christmas and he remembered the tide of strength he had felt behind him. The tide flowed again, the strength welled up. He was not afraid now, not for Ginny or Ron, and not for himself. “I’m not sure why you’re doing this, but it’s really...” He looked down, and Hermione touched his hand. He looked up again. “Thank you. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Ginny and Ron were snatched by Death Eaters in Hogsmeade today, which I think you all know.” Heads nodded. “Voldemort has them.” There were gasps, and some flinched at the name. “I know where they are, but I’ve only told Hermione, and I’m not going to tell you because Voldemort will kill Ginny and Ron if anyone besides me and Hermione goes to where they are. And if any teachers or someone from the Ministry of Magic finds out, they’ll be sure to follow us. I’m sorry I can’t tell you, but that’s why.” “No problem, Harry,” someone called. “It makes sense.” Again heads nodded. “Good. All right. Hermione and I need to get out of Hogwarts immediately. I figure that they’ve sealed the castle grounds, and nothing can get in or out.” “That’s right, Harry,” Erskine Labine said, and everyone turned to look at him. “I tried to Summon my broom from the stadium while I was still in Hogsmeade, but I don’t think the charm even reached it.” “Okay,” Harry continued, “so that means we have to get out some other way. I just happen to know one, which I’ll tell Dean about, and he can fill you all in after we’re gone. But we’ll need a diversion, because Mad—Eye Moody is in the castle, and I’m sure he’s watching me.” Some of the younger students seemed puzzled. “He’s an ex—Auror,” Harry explained, “and he’s got a magical eye that sees through walls. But we have to work fast. Here’s what I’d like you to do.” Harry thought for a moment as they all waited. “I need a few people, five or six, to break into Filch’s office. There’s got to be a ton of old fireworks and other stuff in there that he confiscated from Fred and George Weasley.” “And some other people,” someone called, and a chuckle went around the room. Harry smiled briefly, “And other people, right. But if Filch is there, you’ll have to Stun him. So who wants to volunteer for that?” Every hand in the room shot up. “Okay,” Harry couldn’t help laughing, “we’ll spread the glory.” He picked three Gryffindors, plus Ernie Macmillan, Zania Black, and Erskine Labine. They quickly left and Harry turned back to the others. “Now, everyone break up into groups of four or five, and when they get back with the fireworks, I want each group to go to a different part of the castle and start setting them off. Make as much noise as you can. The only place I don’t want anyone to go near is the Astronomy tower, okay? Split up now and work out where you’ll go.” He stopped Dean from moving away and drew him and Hermione closer. “This is what my plan is,” he said in a low voice. “We’re going to fly from the Astronomy tower to the Whomping Willow.” Hermione nodded as she comprehended Harry’s plan. Harry continued. “Dean, I need you to do two things. First, get us two brooms. I don’t want to chance not being able to Summon mine from the stadium. Then I want you to find a long stick of some kind, about ten or fifteen feet long, and take it down to the Willow and leave it there as close as you can without getting yourself killed.” Dean looked puzzled. “Why the Whomping Willow? How will you get out of the grounds from there?” “There’s a tunnel underneath it that leads to the Shrieking Shack. The only person in the castle who knows about it besides us is Remus Lupin. If Fred and George are here then they know, too. If McGonagall doesn’t know about it, I’m hoping it didn’t get sealed. And there’s a knot on the tree that makes it stop attacking if you press it.” Dean nodded, and quickly found Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes; he spoke to them and they went up the stairs and returned a moment later with their brooms. They brought them to Harry. “Thanks,” he said. “Dean will tell you where we’ll leave them. You can get them back about ten minutes after the party starts.” They grinned, and went back to their groups. Dean was about to leave, but Harry took his hand. “Dean, thanks. We’ll be back, I promise.” “I know you will. Good luck!” They shook hands, and he hurried away and disappeared out the portrait hole. Hermione pulled on Harry’s sleeve. “Why don’t we just go out the front entrance? We’ll have to climb all those stairs to get to the top of the tower. And what’s you plan for getting to the... the place we’re going?” “The entrance is where they’ll expect us to go. But they won’t be expecting us to use brooms because we can’t fly off the grounds. When we get to the Shrieking Shack, we’ll Disapparate to the entrance we used two years ago.” “Harry, I’m not sure I can remember it clearly enough. What if I splinch?” Harry thought for a minute. “We’ll have to do a Side—Along, then. I walked right past the phone box when I was in London before Christmas. I know exactly where we’re going.” Hermione looked worried, but at that moment the firework foragers tumbled through the portrait hole, laughing hysterically, and dozens of filibusters, rockets, bombs, sparklers, and some unidentifiable types spilled onto the floor. Gleeful shouts rang out, and everyone hurried over and started grabbing fireworks. Soon the teams were ready, and Harry gave the final instructions. “Ernie, you get as close to McGonagall’s office as you can, then give the signal. Everyone else wait for Ernie Macmillan to set off the first firework, then give it all you’ve got. Hermione and I need about five minutes to get away. Any questions?” There were none, and Ernie and his team led the way out the portrait hole. Harry and Hermione stood next to it, and many students wished them luck. Neville, Luna, and the two first—year Gryffindors were passing through when Luna stopped; Neville looked back from outside the hole. “Come on, Luna,” he urged, “we have to get all the way down to the Great Hall.” She looked at him for a moment; the people behind her started to push. “Harry,” she said in her dreamiest voice, “it’s been wonderful knowing you. You, too, Hermione. I’ll make sure Dad writes a nice story about you.” “Gee, that’s swell, Luna.” Harry tried not to show either amusement, anger or impatience, all of which he was feeling. “You’re holding up the line.” She looked behind her. “Yes, I see that. Actually, I hope you do rescue them. Ron hasn’t been nearly as mean this year.” Neville took her hand and yanked her through the portrait hole. Luna looked back at Harry with a smile and waved. When the last student had left, Harry told Hermione to wait, and ran up to his room. He tore through his trunk and pulled out his Invisibility cloak, then ran back downstairs. They stood by the portrait hole, Hermione feeling more and more nervous, and Harry feeling more and more ready, his confidence buoyed by the knowledge that dozens of people, some of whom he barely knew, were out in the castle helping him bring Ginny and Ron back. And maybe destroy Voldemort. “This is it,” he said to Hermione. “I’m going to meet Voldemort again. Don’t be frightened.” He took her trembling hand. “Trust me.” Hermione nodded wordlessly, and tried to smile, but she looked as though she was going to be sick. Loud bangs and shouts echoed down the corridor, and Harry opened the portrait hole. “Wait thirty seconds, then we run.” The explosions increased; they came from all directions, as did the shouts. Soon the whole castle echoed with thunderous bangs, and Hermione covered her ears. Harry tucked the Invisibility cloak into his pocket, took the two broomsticks, and stepped out of the portrait hole. When Hermione was out it swung shut, and the Fat Lady started screaming. “What’s going on? The castle’s blowing up!” She noticed Harry and Hermione. “What are you doing, Harry Potter? You’re responsible for this, I know you are!” “Now!” shouted Harry, and he and Hermione sprinted for the stairs. They saw no one until they turned into a hallway on the first floor; it was full of smoke, and in the distance they could make out the figures of five students firing off rockets that turned into green and red dragons. The dragons spun off and went roaring down the hallway. One came right at them, and Harry pulled Hermione into the stairwell at the base of the Astronomy tower. They dashed up, leaving the noise and smoke behind, and came out on the roof in front of the spot where Severus Snape had killed Professor Dumbledore. Harry handed a broom to Hermione and they stepped to the parapet. “Ready?” Harry mounted his broom. “Okay!” They kicked off and soared up, then straight down toward the Whomping Willow. “Harry!” Hermione called; she was pointing back at the castle. Smoke was pouring from open windows and the entrance, and people were streaming out onto the lawn. They circled the Willow and landed just outside the reach of its branches. A small breeze peacefully rustled the tree, which was showing the first fresh, green buds of spring. Harry looked around for the pole. “There!” he called to Hermione, who had run to the other side of the tree. “The knot’s over here, too!” she shouted. At that moment Harry heard a cry from the castle. He looked back, and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt racing toward them. “Harry! Harry!” Kingsley called. His wand was out and pointing straight at Harry. A spell shot out, but it was far enough away to give Harry time to draw his own wand and parry it. He ran to Hermione and she reached with the pole toward the knot. The tree bent toward them and raised a long branch into the air. Just as it was about to strike, Hermione touched the knot, and the tree froze. Harry grabbed her, and they ducked under the now—motionless foliage and dove into the entrance to the tunnel. They heard the tree begin to move again, and then a loud thud and the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt swearing. Harry lit his wand, and they stumbled onward, breathing hard. He stopped after they had gone only a short distance. “I think we’re outside the grounds. We can Disapparate now.” Hermione grabbed his arm. “Harry, no, you can’t be sure, And we don’t know if it works the same underground.” Harry frowned. “Hermione, we can’t wait. It could be too late already!” “No, if he wanted you – us – to come, he wouldn’t k—kill them before we got there. He’s using them as bait.” Harry swore. “Okay, I don’t want to argue.” He led her on, and they finally came up inside the Shrieking Shack. They looked carefully around, but it was deserted. They stood in a hallway with dust an inch deep on the floor and cobwebs waving gently in cool drafts. “Now,” Harry said, and Hermione gripped his elbow. Harry put his hand on hers, and they both felt the unpleasant inside—out sensation for a few seconds. They popped out in the trash—strewn street a few yards from the broken telephone box that was the public entrance to the Ministry of Magic. There was a crash of metal behind them, and they both whirled around, Harry with his wand out. A gray tabby cat, as startled as they were, jumped down from one of the overflowing dumpsters that lined the walls of the buildings and dashed down the street. Harry stared at the cat as it disappeared into the open door of the pub a few yards away. Hermione waited, and when Harry didn’t move, she put her hand on his shoulder. “What do we do now?” She was whispering, even though the street was empty and they were far from where it opened into the cross—road. Harry gave a nervous laugh. “I was so busy figuring how to get out of Hogwarts, that I didn’t think about this.” He swallowed. “It’s strange. When I was standing in the common room with all those people listening to me and doing whatever I asked, I felt like I do when I’m with Ginny, like I can do anything. But...” “Now you’re not so sure. But you got us this far by fooling some pretty smart wizards. Think about Ginny. The only reason I got this far was by thinking about Ron.” “Smart girl.” He put his wand away. “We need to put on your cloak,” Hermione said. “We’ll just have to hope it works inside the Ministry. If we can follow someone into a lift, then we can use it to get to the ninth level without being seen.” They threw the cloak over themselves and stepped into the telephone box. Harry poked 6—2—4—4—2 on the dial, and the welcome witch’s voice filled the air. “Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your names and the purpose of your visit.” “Um, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, to rescue Ginny and Ron Weasley.” “Thank you. One moment please.” Two badges slid into the coin return slot. “Thank you, have a pleasant day, and enjoy your visit to the Ministry of Magic. Please stop at the front desk and register your wands. Thank you.” Harry rolled his eyes and handed Hermione’s badge to her. The floor began to descend, and in a minute it reached the Atrium, lit as before with a soft golden light. Knots of people stood around, but no one was near them; one or two glanced at the lift but then looked away. Harry opened the door and they quickly stepped out. When the door closed and the lift started back up, several people looked again, and one, a witch with an Auror’s insignia on her robes, came over and peered up at it as it rose out of sight; then she looked around. Harry and Hermione had moved a few feet away, and stood stock still. The witch’s glance passed over them, but she didn’t appear to notice anything. When she walked back to the wizard she had been talking with, Harry took Hermione’s hand, and they started toward the fountain and the golden gates beyond it. They tried to stay as far as possible from people, but it was fairly crowded near the gates, and they had to walk within a few feet of some. They heard snatches of conversation and Kingsley Shacklebolt’s name spoken several times. They glanced at each other, and Hermione pulled Harry to a stop. They were in front of two wizards who had just come through the gates and had halted near the security desk. “There had to be a change,” said one, an athletic—looking young man with short, blond hair. “The only thing Scrimgeour did in almost two years was arrest a few innocent people and leak stories about them to the papers. If it hadn’t been for Potter’s Patronus he’d still be twiddling his thumbs with his head stuck up his you—know—what.” “I agree,” the other chuckled; he was an older wizard with a beard and a long ponytail. “But is Shacklebolt the man? He stayed away from the Ministry as much as he could.” “I’ll grant you that he doesn’t know all the ins and outs of how the Muggle—Worthy Excuse Committee works, but right now we need action, not more fiddling with the bureaucracy.” He looked around and dropped his voice. “They say he’s a member of that secret society, and I think that’s just what we need. I don’t give a damn about who’s official or who’s unofficial. If we can’t protect Hogwarts then someone has to.” They walked away and Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand. “Kingsley’s Minister of Magic!” she whispered excitedly. “It must have just happened. That’s brilliant news!” Harry nodded. “Let’s go.” They passed through the golden gates – the security guard never looked up – to the row of lifts against the far wall. They stood waiting. Minutes passed, and Harry started fidgeting. He stared at the lift doors; he tapped his wand against his leg until Hermione shushed him; then he put his hand to his scar. “It’s tingling,” he whispered. “He’s here.” He paused, and his eyes got wider. “So is Ginny.” “What about Ron?” Hermione whispered back.“And how can you tell?” “Because something’s there that...” “What? What’s there?” He shook his head. “Don’t ask. He’ll be able to read your mind. It’s best if you don’t know.” A few feet away a lift clattered to a stop and a witch got out. Harry and Hermione scurried inside, but Harry had to hold the grilles open for a split second to allow Hermione to enter, and the witch stopped and looked at it. She walked back to the lift, and was about to open the grilles again, but Harry pushed the button for the ninth level and the lift began to descend. They could see the witch watching it go with frown. Harry let out his breath. They both gripped their wands as the levels slowly passed. The lift stopped noisily and the grilles opened on the dark corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries and the iron—bound door, off to one side, that was the entrance to the Wizengamot trial chamber. They crept slowly down the corridor toward the door that opened into the circular room. As they approached the corridor to the side, they heard footsteps coming from it, and they pressed themselves against the wall. A tall, thin wizard emerged from the corridor. He came within inches of them, and as he brushed by he slowed momentarily and glanced right at them. Then he continued to the lift. He stopped in front of it; he seemed surprised to find it there, and looked back down the corridor for a long moment. Then he turned and disappeared into the lift. Both Harry and Hermione let out their breaths. “It seems like people here can sense the Invisibility magic,” Hermione whispered. “Come on,” Harry said softly, “we’re almost there.” Hermione could feel the sweat on his hand as the door to the circular room swung open before them. Harry took the cloak off when they were inside. “I don’t think this will hide us from anyone in here.” The room was exactly as they remembered: a dozen doors led from it, and candles with dim, blue flames ringed the wall. Hermione closed the door, and the walls immediately began to spin with a deep rumbling sound; the doors and the candles became blurs. The spinning suddenly stopped. Harry gripped Hermione’s hand tightly, and called loudly, “Which is the door to the Chamber of Death?” A door on their right sprang open. They walked toward it; both of them were trembling. They raised their wands in sweating hands and stepped through the open doorway. |
| Reviews 169 |
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