Chapter Thirteen

Snape curled himself into a ball and covered himself with his filthy, wet cloak. He was somewhere in a cellar in an old house, that much he knew. The rest he could only surmise. Jeremy Potter had found him in the sewer just as Harry had whispered down to him. The manhole cover had clanked into position and then he was alone.

Jeremy healed his broken back, put him restraints and had taken him back through the tunnels to the house. With a very angry and blind vampire at his side, they smuggled him into a carriage drawn by two black horses and raced through the streets. Snape was blind-folded and muzzled with a Charm. He knew he was riding with Jeremy.

“Ah Snape, my friend. You have tricked us and disappointed us.” The voice remained steady, “Tut, tut, I so dearly loved that house and now I can’t return.” Jeremy lit a cigarette and Snape could smell it’s pungent aroma. A very angry vampire sat beside him.

“Jeremy, let me have him,” Kaldensky said.

“No, no,” Jeremy hushed him. “The Master would like a word with our friend. Until then you can keep your fangs away from him. He has the key to the Master’s illness; him and that maggot of a boy. We want him alive. He can lure the boy back to us and we need his blood.”

“He has blinded me,” Kaldensky moaned.

“I will stake you through the heart and lay you out in the sun if you don’t stop your whimpering,” Potter said, nonchalantly.

Rough hands pushed him, led him and then shoved him into the cell-like enclosure. It was completely dark and he could hear nothing. He thought it was best to try and rest before they began what he knew would be torture and then eventual death at the hands of his own father.

Harry met Lupin, Ron and Hermione leaving Dumbledore’s office. Ron spoke first, “He doesn’t want to do anything.” He referred to the meeting they had just had with Dumbledore.

“I’m going to find Snape,” Harry said. “Are you coming?”

Hermione and Ron nodded, but Lupin held back.

“Remus?” Harry asked.

“Harry, Dumbledore makes the decisions for the Order. He usually knows what he’s doing.”

“You can come or stay, Remus. If we wait longer Severus will die.” Harry turned, “Maybe I should let my wife talk to you, she has a way of persuading people.” He was already headed down the hall, and said over his shoulder, “ First we have to find their camp.”

Hermione rushed up and Ron followed, “You don’t have to Harry. As soon as we knew where you’d gone we contacted Jolie. They’re camped on the grounds down by Hagrid’s hut.”

“Are we really going after that old git?” Rona asked. Harry stopped and turned on him.

“He saved my life Ron,” he answered quietly. “He’s probably paying for with his own life right now. He’s…he’s my friend.”

Ron studied him for a moment and nodded, “Knew sooner or later I’d have to sacrifice myself for him.” He tried a small grin.

Harry snorted, “Let’s hope not.” They walked down through the grassy lawns, feeling the first frost dampening their shoes and robes. There were dozens of lights and several bonfires lightening up the area around Hagrid’s hut. He led them into the center. Jolie and the men were gathered around a bonfire while women cooked at other fires and children peeked their heads out from under wagons. Jolie looked up.

“Hello, Chav,” his said, his face blank.

“I want to know how to find the old Crow,” Harry said in Romani, “I could use some help.”

“You have come to the right place, my son. Bring your friends and we will talk.” Jolie stood and Harry noticed the ancient old crone, Tshaya sitting next to him. On her left was the Gypsy, Marcuso.

“Why is that shameless rat here?” Harry said angrily.

“Sit and have something to eat,” Jolie stepped over and took Harry’s arm. He motioned Hermione and Ron to join them. “Harry you sit and listen to the old woman. She helps us understand.” He spoke in English for Ron and Hermione. In Romani he said, “Have you forgotten your manners young one.”

Tshaya was very old. She had white chin hairs that curled, giving her the appearance of having a beard. Her gray hair was wrapped in a scarf and she wore large hoop earrings. Her hands were veined, old and crooked. Harry knew that she always smoked a long stem pipe and had even given a prophesy about him at one time concerning Snape.

Harry sat and watched. He translated for Ron and Hermione.

“What she doing, Harry?” Hermione was listening intently.

“The Romani have a court where they judge someone’s behavior. Everyone that is an elder in the camp gets to have a say about the crime or the punishment. Tshaya is the oldest and everyone will listen to what she has to say.”

“Ooh, this is fascinating.” Hermione looked around at the fire-lit faces. “Where are the other women? Why aren‘t they included?”

Harry glanced at her and rubbed his face, covered his mouth and mumbled, “They aren’t allowed to come into the circle.”

“What, what did you say?” she asked. Ron shushed her.

Marcuso was standing before them, “Old mother,” he began. “I am cursed. I drink too much and I live among the Gadjo. I have done many bad things and lost my way.” His head dropped. “I deserve to be sent from the people and to wander alone.”

“You can redeem yourself, son,” Tshaya said, squinting one eye from the smoke that trailed from her pipe. Her lips were thin and rubbery and she coughed, but her eyes were sparkling with the reflection of the fire. “We must find this Gadjo man, old Crow. He is with the Kalo Beng. Lead us to him and we will forgive your ways and deeds. These others, they are nothing to us. You have not harmed your people, if you speak true.”

Marcuso’s face was a study in mixed emotions. To Harry, he definitely looked terrified but also had a strange look of yearning. Marcuso glanced at the other men in the circle. He held his hat in his hands and sweat beaded his brow. Harry noticed that he was cleaner and didn’t smell.

“So?” Hermione asked, “What is he going to do?” She had gripped Harry’s arm and was tugging at it.

“Don’t know yet, ‘Mione, hold on,” he whispered and held his hand over hers, listening. There were words he didn’t understand. But he knew the minute that Tshaya accepted. She stood, bent and waddled over to the man. She kissed him on both cheeks and then the mouth.

“Thank you old, mother,” he whimpered. Big tears began to roll down his cheeks and he sat down in the circle.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, and said, “I think you know. He’s been forgiven. Now he should tell us where we can find Severus.”

“Harry,” Ron frowned, “I know that he’s your friend and all, now, but can we call him Snape. Please just until we find him. You’ve had chance to see another side- but we haven’t!”

Harry nodded. Several men in the circle glanced up and were looking behind Harry. The three turned to glance over their shoulder. Several hundred lights, from lanterns, to wands, to candles were moving down the grassy lawn towards them. Harry looked at Hermione and Ron and they shrugged.

They stood and waited. The first to arrive were the members of Harry’s D.A. group. Then other people, those who had just discovered that he was alive. It never ceased to surprise Harry at how fast news about him traveled in school.

The group split and a smaller group assembled just out of the circle of campfires. They wore green and silver colors. Malfoy stepped into the light as did Neville Longbottom.

Neville spoke first. “We heard you were going to rescue Professor Snape, Harry. We’re going with you.” Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan nodded, as did several dozen others behind him. He continued, “If you don’t go, then…then we’ll go without you.”

Harry was astonished. This was Neville Longbottom talking, Snape’s favorite dog-to-kick. He also realized half the school was standing in front of him including the Creevey brothers and others he didn’t know. Hermione hugged Harry around the waist with one arm, tears flowing freely down her face. Harry glanced over at Ron who smiled.

“We sort of told a few people…” he said.

“A few,” Harry was breathless.

More people began to arrive, the Order of the Phoenix, almost in its’ entirety. Mr. And Mrs. Weasley walked into the camp light and joined them followed by Lupin, who looked mildly sheepish.

Harry couldn’t speak. Suddenly he felt a warm hand in his and looked down into Nadya’s face. He whispered, “Don’t let go, never let go.” She nodded. He turned to Malfoy, who walked in with most of the Slytherin students. “What are your intentions Draco?” The boy stood in front of him.

Harry knew that Draco probably wanted to have a fight. He’d been left by he and Snape at Malfoy Manor in a hurry the previous Christmas. Snape had put a modified memory charm on him so that they could escape. Harry received news that Draco had spent some time at St. Mungo’s, but had regained his memories. That included what most of them weren’t aware of; that he and his family were hosting Voldemort as a guest the previous Christmas.

Harry also knew that Malfoy was a neglected, lonely person whose father was going to give him up to the darkest wizard in history.

Draco looked as bad as Marcuso had minutes before. “We want our Professor Snape back,” he said.

Harry nodded, “You will have to do what I say.”

Draco nodded.

Dumbledore was the last to walk into the circle. Hagrid and McGonagal stood beside him. He looked at Harry and said, “It seems you have emptied my school, Mr. Potter and broken the rules again.” The camp was silent except for the crackling of fire wood and horses huffing and stamping in the dark.

“We’re going after Professor Snape, Professor,” Harry said.

“I can expel you, Harry,” Dumbledore replied.

“Then you’d better do it, Professor,” Harry said.

“You have to expel me as well,” Ron said.

“And me.” Hermione stepped up.

“And me,” Neville said.

Draco stood walked over and stood beside Neville, and said calmly, “And me.” There was a general murmuring of voices, ‘And me’, ‘Me, too’ throughout the flickering lights.

Dumbledore smiled, “Very well. Let’s go get our Professor.” He nodded at Harry. Hagrid grinned and the students crowded in.