Chapter Twenty-One
“Griphook took the sword, but the last Horcrux is at Hogwarts, and You-Know-Who knows, he knows that I’m after his Horcruxes, he’s going to go check each one—what will he do once he’s realized the ring and the locket are gone? He’ll come to check on the one at Hogwarts…”
“Go,” Sirius said, his face was set, his eyes shining fiercely, “Go to the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. The village is bewitched with Alarm Jinxes; you must go immediately to the inn. There’s an Order member deep undercover there that Mad-Eye always told us about but who we never spoke to…whoever they are, they’ll help you get into the castle.”
“You have the Map with you,” Remus said, “and we will join shortly. The Order can distract Snape—we’ll send for as many as we can…”
“What? No! I have to be discreet, You-Know-Who can’t know I’m at Hogwarts, won’t he suspect with the Order turning up?”
“As you said Harry, he’ll know the locket and the ring are gone soon enough,” Remus countered, “and you need all the help you can get inside Hogwarts. Snape and the Carrows run the place—even Minerva and the other staff might not be able to help you. You need the Order.”
“Go to the Hog’s Head,” Sirius said, “We'll be close behind.”
“Time is of the essence,” Remus said and the two-way mirror swirled and then the connection faded.
Harry turned to Ron and Hermione. Ron was holding the cup and Hermione was clutching the Invisibility Cloak.
“You heard them,” Ron said, “Let’s go.”
Harry pulled the Cloak down as far as it would go over all three of them and together, they turned on the spot into the crushing darkness.
Harry’s feet touched cobbled road. He saw the achingly familiar Hogsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts and the outline of the Forbidden Forest and the black mountains beyond the village, and the curve of the road ahead that led off toward Hogwarts.
And then the air was rent by a piercing scream that sound like Voldemort’s when he had realized the cup was stolen. It tore at every nerve in Harry’s body and he knew they had seconds to reach the Hog’s Head.
They ran, and as they did Death Eaters poured out of the Three Broomsticks. One roared, “It must be Potter! Accio Cloak!”
Harry gripped the Cloak’s folds but it made no attempt to fly off their bodies—the Summoning Charm had not worked on it.
And still they kept running, reaching the side lane and before Harry had even raised his fist to knock on the door, the bolts slid back and the wooden door to the Hog’s Head flew open and a rough voice said, “Potter, in here, quick!”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurtled through the open doorway.
“Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!” The tall figure of the undercover Order member muttered as he passed by them and stepped out onto the side street, slamming the door behind him.
Harry turned and took in, by the light of a solitary sputtering candle, the grubby, sawdust-strewn bar of the Hog’s Head Inn. Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a rickety wooden staircase that they climbed as fast they could. The stairs opened onto a sitting room with a threadbare carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung an oil painting of a blonde girl who gazed out at the room; her eyes both vacant and sweet.
Shouts reached them from the street below, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione (still hidden beneath the Cloak) approached the small square window which looked down upon the small lane. The undercover Order member was the barman of the Hog’s Head, and he was shouting at the hooded Death Eaters, “If I want to put me cat out, I will, and be damned to your curfew!”
“You set off the Caterwauling Charm?”
“And so what if I did? Going to cart me off to Azkaban for sticking me head out me own front door? Do it then, if you want to! But I hope for your sakes you haven’t pressed your little Dark Marks and Summoned him. He’s not going to like being called here for me and me old cat, now is he?”
“Don’t worry about us,” the Death Eaters spat, “worry about yourself, breaking curfew!”
“Ach!” The barman roared, waving his hand and turning his back on the Death Eaters, who in turn strode back toward the High Street.
Hermione moaned with relief, wove out from under the Cloak, and sat down on a wobble-legged chair. Harry drew the curtains tightly shut, then pulled the Cloak off he and Ron. They could hear the barman below, rebolting the door of the bar and then climbing the stairs.
“You bloody fools,” The barman said gruffly as he entered the room, “What were you thinking, coming here?”
“Thank you,” Harry said at once, “Sirius Black and Remus Lupin told us to come here. They said there was an undercover Order member at the Hog’s Head, and you could help us get into the Hogwarts.”
The barman grunted and Harry approached him, looking up into his face. He had long, stringy, wire-grey hair and beard and wore spectacles. Underneath the dirty lenses, Harry saw the man’s eyes were a piercing, brilliant blue.
“You’re Aberforth,” Harry said.
The man neither confirmed nor denied it, but bent to light the fire. When he stood again, he said, “Always liked those two lads. Only met the once, and I didn’t fancy being properly in the Order. But Mad-Eye always get me informed; gave me instructions in case he got himself killed. But he never told me you’d be coming here on the run trying to sneak into the castle.”
“It’s important,” Harry said, and at the same moment Ron’s stomach growled.
“I got food,” Aberforth Dumbledore said, and he sloped out of the room, appearing moments later with a large loaf of bread, some cheese and a pewter of mead, which he set upon a small table in front of the fire. Ravenous, Harry, Ron, and Hermione pounced on the food and drink, and for a long while the only sound was the crackle of the fire, the clink of goblets, and the sound of chewing.
“Right then,” Aberforth said when they had eaten and drank their fill, “I don’t care what Black and Lupin told you—you’ve got to get as far away from here as you can.”
“You don’t understand; we’ve got to get into the castle. There isn’t much time, the Order is coming too. Dumbledore—I mean, your brother—he wanted us—”
“My brother Albus wanted a lot of things,” Aberforth said, “and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans. Black and Lupin ought to know that well enough, oughtn’t they? Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He’s gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don’t owe him anything.”
“It’s not what I owe your brother,” Harry said, “It’s what I owe everyone else that’s still here with us.”
“Save yourself,” Aberforth said roughly.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I…” Harry felt overwhelmed; there were too many words, too many desperate feelings roiling inside him.
“The Order’s finished whether they know it yet or not,” Aberforth said, “You-Know-Who’s won, it’s over, and anyone who’s pretending different is kidding themselves. It’ll never be safe here for you, Potter, so save yourself and go abroad—take these two and Black and Lupin and whoever else is foolish enough to still think they’ve got a fighting chance.”
“I can’t leave,” Harry said again, “I’ve got to try. I’ve got a job—”
“Give it to someone else!”
“It’s got to be me,” Harry insisted, “Dumbledore explained it all—”
“Did he now? And did he tell you everything, was he honest with you?”
Harry wanted to say Yes but he remembered: I must not tell lies.
“Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry very much,” Hermione said in a low voice.
“Did he? Funny thing, how many people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ‘em alone.”
“He gave Lupin a place at Hogwarts,” Harry countered, “when no other Headmaster would’ve.”
“Kept a place for him after the First War, did he?” Aberforth said, his piercing blue eyes boring into Harry’s, “Kept him warm and well-fed, did he? And oi—looked out for Black, didn’t he?”
Harry clenched his fists in his lap and said through gritted teeth, “He made mistakes.”
Aberforth let out a cold laugh.
“Mr. Dumbledore…” Hermione said, “Is that your sister? Ariana?” She was pointing at the painting above the fireplace.
Aberforth grunted, “Yes. Been reading Rita Skeeter, have you?”
“We saw her and your mother’s grave in Godric’s Hollow,” Hermione said, “What happened to her?”
Aberforth glared at her; his lips moved as if he were chewing words he was holding back. Then he burst into speech.
“When my sister was ten years old, she was attacked by three Muggle boys. They’d seen her doing magic, spying through the garden hedge. She was a kid, she couldn’t control it, no Witch or Wizard can at that age. What they saw scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge and when she wouldn’t show them the trick, they got carried away trying the little freak doing it. They violated her.”
Hermione’s eyes were huge in the firelight and Ron looked slightly sick. Aberforth stood up, tall as Albus had been, and suddenly terrible in his anger and the intensity of his pain.
“It destroyed her, what they did. She was never right again. She wouldn’t use magic, but she couldn’t get rid of it. Her magic turned inward and drove her mad, exploding out of her when she couldn’t control it, and at times she was strange and dangerous. But mostly she was scared and sweet and harmless. And my father went after the bastards that did it,” Aberforth said, “and attacked them. And they locked him in Azkaban for it—he never said why he’d done it because if the Ministry had known what Ariana had become, she’d have been locked in up in St. Mungo’s for good. We had to keep her safe and quiet. We moved house, put it about she was ill, and my mother looked after, and tried to keep her calm and happy.”
“Then, when she was fourteen, she had one of her rages and my mother wasn’t as young as she once was…it was an accident. Ariana couldn’t control it, but my mother was killed. So that put an end to Albus’ plans to see the world. He did alright taking care of my sister for a few weeks…till he came.”
A dangerous look crept over Aberforth’s face.
“Grindelwald. And at last my brother had an equal to talk to, someone just as bright and talented as he was. Oh my brother fancied him, alright. But what did I care about that when he was abandoning his care of Ariana to scheme about the greater good and their grand plans for the benefit of all Wizardkind! Well, it was nearly time for me to go back to Hogwarts and I sat the two of ‘em down fact-to-face and I told him, you’d better give it up now. You can’t take her with you wherever it is you’re planning to go, but Grindelwald didn’t like that at all. He got angry. He told me I was a stupid little boy for trying to stand in the way of him and my brilliant brother…Didn’t I understand, my poor sister wouldn’t have to be hidden once they’d changed the world, and led the Wizards out of hiding and taught the Muggles their place? And there was an argument, and I pulled out my wand, and he pulled out his, and I got the Cruciatus from my brother’s lover—and Albus, he was trying to stop him, and then all three of us were dueling and the flashing lights and the bangs set her off, she couldn’t stand it—”
Aberforth’s face had gone white, “I don’t know which of us did it, it could have been any of us. And she was dead.”
Aberforth cleared his throat, “Grindelwald scarpered. And Albus was free, wasn’t he? Free of the burden of his sister, free to become the greatest Wizard of the—”
“He was never free,” Harry said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never,” Harry said, “The night your brother died, he drank a potion that drove him out of his mind. He started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn’t there. Don’t hurt them, please…hurt me instead.”
Ron and Hermione stared at Harry.
“He thought he was back there with you and Grindelwald, I know he did,” Harry said, remembering Dumbledore whimpering and pleading on the island in the lake within the cave, “He thought he was watching Grindelwald hurting you and Ariana….it was torture to him, if you’d seen him then, you wouldn’t say he was free.”
Aberforth seemed lost in contemplation of his own knotted and veined hands. At last, he said, “How can you be sure, Potter, that my brother wasn’t more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren’t dispensable, just like my little sister?”
“Because it’s my decision too,” Harry said, “and I know what I can do!”
“You’re only seventeen, boy!”
“I’m of age, and I’m going to keep fighting even if you’ve given up!”
“Who say’s I’ve given up?”
“You just did!”
“I don’t say I like it, but I was just stating the facts! The truth!”
“It’s not,” Harry said, “Your brother knew how to finish You-Know-Who and he passed it on to me. I’m going to keep fighting until I succeed—or I die. Don’t think I don’t know how this might end. I’ve known it for years. Maybe I am dispensable, but I’ll be dammed sure to make my life—and my death—mean more than just myself.”
Aberforth scowled.
“We need to get into Hogwarts,” Harry said, “And the rest of the Order is coming soon. If you can help us, well, now would be a great time to mention it.”
Aberforth gazed at Harry with those eyes that were so much like his brother’s. At last, he cleared his throat, walked around the little table, and approached the portrait of Ariana.
“You know what to do,” he said.
She smiled, turned, and walked away, back along a long tunnel painted behind her. They watched her slight figure retreating until finally she was swallowed by the darkness.
“Er…what?” Ron said.
“There’s only one way in now,” Aberforth said, “They’ve got all the old secret passageways covered at both ends, Dementors all around the boundary walls, regular patrols inside the school.”
A tiny white dot reappeared at the end of the painted tunnel, and now Ariana was walking back toward them, growing bigger and bigger as she came. But there was somebody with her now, someone who was taller than she was, who was limping along, looking excited.
His hair was longer than Harry had ever seen it—he had gashes on his face and his clothes were ripped and torn. Larger and larger the two figures grew, until only their heads and shoulders filled the portrait. Then the whole thing swung forward on the wall like a little door, and then entrance to a real tunnel was revealed. And out of it, his robes ripped, clambered the real Neville Longbottom.
He gave a roar of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled, “I knew you’d come! I knew it, Harry!”
“Neville—what—how—?” Harry stammered.
But Neville had caught sight of Ron and Hermione and with another yell of delight he was hugging them too.
The longer Harry looked at Neville, the worse he looked. One of his eyes was swollen yellow and purple, there were gouge marks on his face, and his general air of unkemptness suggested that he had been living rough. Nevertheless, his battered visage shone with happiness as he let go of Hermione and said again, “I knew you’d come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!”
“Neville, what’s happened to you?”
“What? This?” Neville dismissed his injuries with a shake of his head, “This is nothing; Seamus is worse off. You’ll see. Shall we get going then?”
“Wait a ‘mo. Sirius and Remus are on their way and they’re bringing more of the Order too—” Harry started.
“I’ll send them down the passage once they get here,” Aberforth said, “You best get going then.”
“Thanks a lot,” Harry said.
Neville climbed up toward the hole in the mantelpiece and then turned back to help Hermione into the tunnel, Ron followed and then Harry.
There were smooth stone steps on the other side of the hole behind Ariana’s portrait. Brass lamps hung from the walls and the earthly floor was worn and smooth; as they walked their shadows flickered along the wall.
“How long’s this passage been here?” Ron asked as they set off, “It isn’t on the Marauder’s Map.”
“There’s no chance getting in any of them now,” Neville said as he started walking backward, beaming at them, “Never mind that stuff—is it true? Did you break into Gringotts? Did you escape on a dragon? Everyone’s talking about it. Terry Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!”
“Yeah, it’s true,” Harry said.
Neville laughed gleefully, “What did you do with the dragon?”
“Released it into the wild,” Ron said, “Hermione was keen on keeping it for a pet—”
“Don’t exaggerate, Ron—”
“But what have you been doing? Sirius and Remus’ve been telling everyone you’re alright, just on the run, but then why haven’t you lot been staying at Headquarters with them? I think you’ve been up to something.”
“You’re right about that,” Harry said, “but tell us about Hogwarts, Neville. We haven’t heard much; just that Snape and the Carrows run the place and that McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, and the other staff in the Order are trying their best to help the students.”
“Yeah, well, even with their help, it’s not really Hogwarts anymore,” Neville said, the smile fading from his face as he spoke, “The Carrows like punishment.”
“Like Umbridge?”
“Nah, they make her look tame. The other teachers do their best to try not to send us to them if we do anything wrong like they’re supposed to do. Amycus, the bloke, he teaches what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts. Except now it’s just Dark Arts. We’re supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who’ve earned detentions—”
“What?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s united voices echoed up and down the passage.
“Yeah,” Neville said, “That’s how I got this one,” He pointed to a particularly deep gash on his cheek, “I refused to do it. Alecto, the sister, teaches Muggle Studies which is now compulsory for everyone. Right idea, mind you, but now the whole class is her explaining how Muggles are like animals—stupid and dirty—and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one,” he motioned to another slash to his face, “for telling her that no Wizard wrote The Dark Side of the Moon.”
Harry raised his eyebrows and couldn’t help his smile, “Damn, just wait until you tell Sirius and Remus that one.”
Neville smiled widely, “Reckon it’s what Padfoot and Moony would’ve done.”
“But blimey, Neville,” Ron said, “there’s a time and a place for getting a smart mouth.”
“The thing is,” Neville said, “it helps when people stand up to them; it gives everyone hope. I used to notice it when you did it to Umbridge, Harry.”
“But they’ve used you as a knife sharpener,” Ron said.
Neville shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. They don’t want to spill too much ‘pure blood’ so they’ll torture us a bit if we’re mouthy but they won’t actually kill us.”
Harry did not know which was worse: the things Neville was saying or the matter-of-fact tone in which he said them.
“The ones who are in real danger are the ones with relatives on the outside giving trouble. Old Xeno Lovegood was getting a bit too outspoke in The Quibbler so they dragged Luna off the train on the way back for Christmas.”
“Neville, she’s alright—”
“Yeah, I know,” Neville said grinning, “she sent a message to me. She’s been having a brilliant time at Headquarters, she says. And Dean too!”
Neville pulled out a golden coin from his pocket and Harry recognized it as one of the fake Galleons that Dumbledore’s Army had used to send each other messages.
“These have been great,” Neville said, beaming at Hermione, “The Carrows still haven’t rumbled how we’ve been communicating. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: Dumbledore’s Army, Still Recruiting. Stuff like that. Snape hated it.”
“You used to?” Harry asked.
“Yeah, well, it got more difficult as time went on,” Neville said, “We lost Luna at Christmas, Ginny never came back after Easter, and the three of us were sort of the leaders. The Carrows seemed to know I was behind a lot of it, so they started coming down on me hard. And then Michael Corner went and got releasing a first year they’d chained up and they tortured him pretty badly. That scared people off.”
“No kidding,” Ron muttered as the passage began to slope upward.
“I couldn’t ask people to go through what Michael did,” Neville said, “so we dropped those kind of stunts. But we were still fighting, doing underground stuff, right up until a couple of weeks ago. That’s when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, and they went for Gran.”
“What!” Harry, Ron, and Hermione said together.
“You can see their thinking,” Neville said, panting a bit now because the passage was climbing so steeply, “But they bit off more than they could chew with Gran. Anyway,” Neville said and laughed, “Dawlish is still in St. Mungo’s and Gran’s on the run. She sent me a letter yesterday actually,” he clapped a hand to the breast pocket of his robes, “said she’s making contact with Kingsley and that she’s proud of me, that I’m my parent’s son, and to keep it up.”
“Cool,” Ron said.
“Yeah,” Neville said happily, “Only thing was, once the Carrows realized they had no hold over me, they decided Hogwarts could do without me after all. I don’t know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban; either way, I knew it was time to disappear.”
“But,” Ron said, looking thoroughly confused, “Aren’t—aren’t we heading straight back into Hogwarts?”
“O’ ‘course,” Neville said, “You’ll see. We’re here.”
They turned a corner and there ahead of them was the end of the passage. Another short flight of steps led to a door. Neville pushed it open and climbed through. As Harry followed, he heard Neville call out, “Look who it is! Didn’t I tell you?!”
As Harry emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams—“HARRY!” “It’s Potter—it’s POTTER!” “Ron!” “Hermione!”
There were colored hanging, lamps, and many faces, and the next moment Harry, Ron, and Hermione were engulfed, hugged, pounded on the back, their hair ruffled, their hands shaken, by what seemed to be more than twenty people.
“Okay, okay, calm down!” Neville called and the crowd backed away.
The room was enormous and filled with multi-colored hammock strung from the ceiling and from a balcony that ran around the dark wood-paneled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings. Harry saw the gold Gryffindor lion, emblazoned on scarlet; the black badger of Hufflepuff, set against yellow; and the bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, on blue. There were bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large wooden-cased wireless radio.
“Where are we?” Harry asked.
“The Room of Requirement!” Neville said, “Surpassed itself, hasn’t it? The Carrows were chasing me, and I knew I had just once chance for a hideout: I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! And it’s expanded as more and more of the D.A. arrived!”
“And the Carrows can’t get in?”
“Nope,” Seamus Finnigan said, his face bruised and puffy behind his smile, “It’s a proper hideout. As long as one of us stays in here, they can’t get us, the door won’t open. It’s all down to Neville, he really gets this room. Neville’s the man!”
“It’s quite straightforward really,” Neville said modestly, “I’d been here about a day and a half and was getting really hungry and wishing I could get something to ear, and that’s when the passage to the Hog’s Head opened up. I went through it and met Aberforth. He’s been providing us with food, because for some reason, that’s the one thing the room doesn’t do.”
“Yeah, well, food’s one of the five exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration,” Ron said to general astonishment. Their months of camping and scrounging for food had taught Ron and Harry that law well enough.
“So we’ve been hiding out here for nearly two weeks,” Seamus said, “and it just makes more hammoocks every time we need them, and it even sprouted a pretty good bathroom once girls started turning up—”
“—and thought they’d quite like a wash, yes,” Lavender Brown said. Harry turned and recognized Parvati and Padma Patil beside her, as well as Terry Boot, Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein, and Michael Corner.
“Tell us what you’ve been up to!” Ernie said, “You didn’t break into Gringotts?”
“They did!” Neville said, “And the dragon’s true too!”
There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops; Ron took a bow.
“What were you after?” Seamus said eagerly.
But before any of them could answer, Harry felt a terrible, scorching pain in his scar. He put his hands over his face as the Room of Requirement vanished and he was standing alone inside a ruined stone shack and at his feet on the rotting floorboards a golden box lay open and empty and Voldemort’s scream of fury vibrated inside his head….
With enormous effort, Harry pulled out of Voldemort’s mind.
“Are you alright, Harry?” Neville was saying, “Want to sit down?”
“No,” Harry said, “We need to get going.”
Ron and Hermione nodded in understanding.
“What are we going to do then, Harry?” Seamus asked, “What’s the plan?”
“Er…well. There’s something Ron, Hermione, and I need to do. And then we’ll get out of here,” Harry said as his scar burned.
Neville looked confused, “What do you mean ‘get out of here’?”
“We haven’t come to stay,” Harry said, rubbing his scar, “There’s something we need to do—”
“What is it?”
“I..I can’t tell you.”
Neville’s brows drew together, “Why can’t you tell us? It’s to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?”
“Well, yeah—”
“Then we’ll help you.”
The other members of Dumbledore’s Army were nodding; some enthusiastically, others solemnly.
“Look—Dumbledore left Ron, Hermione, and I a job…” Harry started.
“We’re his army,” Neville said, “Dumbledore’s Army. We were all in it together, and I don’t see why you can’t trust us. Everyone in here has proven they’re loyal to Dumbledore—to you.”
Harry opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure—but just then the portrait door swung open.
“Hi everyone! Oh, it’s great to be back!” Luna Lovegood said as she stepped out of the passage, followed shortly by Dean Thomas. Seamus gave a cry of delight and ran to hug his best friend, nearly tackling Dean to the ground.
And then Harry’s heart seemed to fail: Ginny was climbing through the hole in the wall, followed by Fred and George Weasley, and Lee Jordan. Ginny gave Harry a radiant smile. A moment later, Cho Chang stepped out from behind Lee, looking shy but determined.
And then the room exploded into uproarious applause. Fred, George, Lee, and Cho hurried out of the way as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin emerged into the Room of Requirement.
“Blimey—that’s Sirius Black, that is!” “And that’s Professor Lupin!” Voices chorused.
“The Order of the Phoenix is on their way!” Sirius Black crowed, sweeping his long black hair out of his face to greet the room at large.
Sirius and Remus both weren’t wearing Wizard’s robes—Sirius wore a simple black cotton t-shirt with the iconic red tongue-and-lips logo of The Rolling Stone’s on the front and Remus wore a grandad sweater of chocolate brown, rolled up to his elbows, displaying the various scars slashing across his forearms and burned into his wrists.
“What’s the plan, Harry?” Remus said, turning to Harry with sharp yet kind eyes.
“There isn’t one,” Harry managed, unable to focus fully while his scar continued to burn fiercely.
“Just going to make it up as we go along, are we?” Fred said, “My favorite kind of plan.”
“We’re fighting though, aren’t we?” Dean said, pulling out his wand (a gift Mr. Ollivander had sent him), “Sirius and Remus said you need help distracting Snape and the Carrows. So—we’re going to fight!”
Seamus grinned and slapped Dean on the back.
Ron turned suddenly to Harry, “Why can’t they help?”
“What?”
“They can help,” Ron said.
Sirius and Remus came to stand beside Harry. Sirius raised one eyebrow and grinned wickedly, “Haven’t you learned well enough by now that you don’t need to do everything alone?”
Despite his scar and despite his uneasiness at putting his friends in danger, Harry looked up at his guardians and found himself smiling, watery-eyed both from the pain in his forehead and from…
Not alone. Never alone.
“Alright then,” Harry said.
Sirius reached out to squeeze his shoulder before calling out, “OI! LISTEN UP TO MY GODSON YOU LOT!”
Harry turned to the room at large and all noise ceased. Everyone looked at Harry, all of them alert and excited.
“There’s something we need to find,” Harry said, “Something that’ll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It’s here at Hogwarts, but we don’t know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?”
It was Luna who answered, perched up on the arm of the chair in which Ginny was now sitting in, “Well there’s the lost diadem of Ravenclaw.”
“Yeah, but it’s lost, Luna,” Michael said, rolling his eyes, “That’s sort of the point.”
“When was it lost?” Harry asked.
“Centuries ago,” Cho said, “Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself.”
“Sorry, but what is a diadem?” Ron asked.
“It’s a kind of crown,” Terry said, “Ravenclaw’s was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer.”
“And none of you have seen anything like it?” Harry asked the Ravenclaw’s.
Padma, Michael, Terry, Cho, and Luna shook their heads.
“But if you’d like to see what the diadem’s supposed to look like,” Luna piped up, “I could take you up to our Common Room and show you, Harry? Ravenclaw’s wearing it in her statue.”
Harry’s scar scorched again and for a moment he was soaring with the great snake Nagini wrapped around his shoulders. Where Voldemort was flying, whether to the cave or to Hogwarts he did not know; either way, there was hardly any time left.
“He’s on the move,” Harry said quietly to Sirius, Remus, Ron, and Hermione, “Listen, I know it’s not much of a lead, but I’m going to go look at that statue and at least find out what the diadem looks like.”
“Alright,” Remus said, “we’ll stay to greet the rest of the Order when they arrive, and wait for your word, Harry.”
Sirius nodded in agreement, “Don't forget to use the Marauder’s Map.”
“O' 'course,” Harry said, and Hermione handed him the parchment from her beaded bag. Harry took it and then turned to Ron, “And keep—you know, the other one—safe.”
Ron nodded, patting the pocket of his robes which contained the cup.
“How do we get out?” Harry said to Neville.
“Over here.”
Neville led Harry and Luna to a corner, where a small cupboard opened into a steep staircase.
“It comes out somewhere different every day, so they’ve never been able to find it,” Neville explained, “Be careful Harry.”
“No problem,” Harry said, “See you in a bit.”
As Harry and Luna hurried up the staircase, Harry heard Sirius give a shout in the room behind them, “Right then! Remus and I want to hear what all schemes you legends have been pulling under Snivellous’ nose this year!”
There were even more cheers at that.