Voldemort had been active in the respect that there had been daily reports of murders and tortures but nothing on any great scale. The lack of serious attacks made all the staff, plus Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, nervous.
“I don’t like this,” Ron muttered one evening in the Common Room. “He’s been too quiet, for too long.”
Harry looked away, staring into the fire deep in thought.
“But this may mean that You-Know-Who’s finally gone to ground, for good,” Ginny answered hopefully, trying to convince herself more than anyone else.
“He’ll never give up, Ginny,” Harry said suddenly, his voice sounding full of bitterness. “He won’t give up until he’s conquered everyone, or someone conquers him.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How come you are suddenly so sure?”
“Because…” Harry stopped. He just couldn’t bring himself to see his friends’ reactions when he revealed the contents of the Prophecy to them. The burden he was carrying with him seemed to get heavier by the day and it was starting to wear him down.
“Because…?” Ron continued slowly, looking at Harry expectantly for an answer.
“Never mind,” Harry muttered. “Just… just he won’t, that’s all.”
Ginny laid her hand on Harry’s knee. “You’ll tell us one day, Harry, won’t you. Please?” she added pleadingly.
Harry nodded, his voice coming out in a throaty whisper. “Yes, Ginny. I’ll tell you all one day but… not yet. Soon. But not yet.”
“He’s plotting something,” Snape said uncomfortably as he stood in front of Dumbledore later that same evening. Dumbledore said nothing; he was surveying the Potions Master over his entwined fingers, his blue eyes holding none of their usual twinkle as he surveyed the spy intently.
“Planning what, exactly, Severus?” Dumbledore asked calmly.
Snape rubbed his left forearm unconsciously. “I do not know. He’s been too… quiet, recently. He has not told me anything of these plans; it appears he does not trust me.”
“Then we must do what we can. I shall inform the Order and tell them to be additionally vigilant. Voldemort, although he has gained control of Azkaban, will not be content for long.”
Snape narrowed his eyes in anger. “Since when did the Dark Lord gain control of Azkaban? I was under the impression the Aurors still held control. The Dementors left Ministry control months ago.”
“Alas, I am afraid you are wrong, Severus.” Dumbledore looked old and tired as Snape glared at him. “Cornelius Fudge kept the information quiet; he was afraid of the widespread panic which will undoubtedly ensue when the information does eventually reach the wider Wizarding community. The Aurors were forced to surrender their hold of Azkaban three days after Voldemort requested that you discovered the identity of the Order’s spy,” Dumbledore said quietly as the Potions Master bared his teeth in anger.
“And you never told me?”
“Severus, both you and I know it is too dangerous for you to know everything.” Dumbledore levelled his gaze to the Head of Slytherin, who was seething with anger.
“So,” Snape snarled viciously. “This is the way you intend to use me, is it? I go out there, tell you as much as I can about the Dark Lord, and all I get in return is more lies.”
“Severus,” Dumbledore began before Snape cut him off, his sallow face twisting in anger.
“From now on, I will do this my way,” he spat, his black eyes burning with icy fire.
The Potions Master turned around and walked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
The bright sunshine and sapphire skies had been replaced with heavy, dense clouds with the accompanying, threatening growls of thunder on the morning of the Quidditch final. Harry looked slightly nervously at the enchanted ceiling; Ron did the same.
“Not exactly ideal conditions mate,” Ron commented, noticing Harry’s apprehensive look. “But at least it’s better than the weather of that Hufflepuff game in your third year. What is it with Hogwarts and lousy weather on Quidditch days? It’s been fabulous weather all week!”
“Yeah,” Harry answered dazedly. “But, I dunno, something doesn’t feel right today…”
“That’s just nerves,” Hermione said instantly, a slice of toast in her hand. “It’s normal to feel like this “ it makes you play better if you get the adrenaline rush. It’s because your body prepares you for ‘fight of flight’; I mean, like you natural survival instinct. If you go past that stage though, your play deteriorates because of…”
“So Harry’ll be fine then,” Ginny interrupted as she walked into the Great Hall. “If it’s to do with survival, Harry’s a professional. No matter what you do to him, he always bounces back. Pass the muffins, Ron.”
Harry smiled, although barely, as Ginny took a muffin off the plate Ron offered her. A feeling of gloom had settled over him and even Ginny’s gentle arm around his shoulders hardly quietened his nerves. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team sat opposite them laughing and pointing, their Nimbus 2001s lying next to them.
“I’ll see you on the pitch,” he muttered, before standing up and walking out of the Hall. Ron, Hermione and Ginny staring concernedly after him while Malfoy and his cronies laughed and jeered.
“You’ll need you luck today, Scar head! Try and refrain from daydreaming for the first hour, like you did in your last game. I’d at least like some competition!”
Harry kept on walking, ignoring Malfoy’s taunt. Hermione scowled while both Ron and Ginny raised two fingers and showed them in Malfoy’s direction.
After a few minutes, Katie Bell walked over to the remaining two members of the team in the Great Hall while glaring over at the Slytherin table.
“Gits. They won’t be so cheery later when we thrash them,” Katie said confidently. “Ron, Ginny, I’ll be down on the pitch in a couple of minutes. Do you want to head on down there? And where’s Harry?”
“He’s…”
“…already gone down to the pitch,” Hermione finished as Ron hesitated. Katie raised an eyebrow.
“I’ll see you on the pitch then.” She walked out as Ron and Ginny stood up.
“We’d better go,” Ginny said, looking at Hermione, who nodded understandingly.
“Good luck. With… everything.”
Both Ron and Ginny nodded in unspoken answer and headed down to the Quidditch Pitch while the clouds broke apart revealing the sparkling sunlight and strips of the creamy blue sky.
Harry was nervous as he sat in the changing rooms. The lurking feeling of tension hung over him like a suffocating shroud.
Now I know what being attacked by a Lethifold feels like…
“Harry?”
Ron and Ginny walked into the changing rooms and sat down on either side of him, looking concerned.
“Are you all right? Only you’ve seemed really down recently.”
Harry nodded and, as he did so, a wave of determination coursed through him. “Yeah, I’m ok now. I’m just going to forget about everything for a while. You’re right Ginny, with what you said in Hogsmeade. Let’s go and whip Malfoy’s backside “ it still amazes me that he got on the team in the first place.”
Ginny and Ron exchanged surprised but relived glances at Harry words while the rest of the team traipsed into the changing rooms looking nervous but excited. Ron gave Harry a slap on the back.
“Yeah, shame money doesn’t buy brains or Malfoy’d actually be quite clever.”
Both Harry and Ginny laughed; they could always count on Ron for his unwavering focus just before a match and it rubbed off on the team. There was no doubt about it, Ron was one of the teams most valuable members now.
“Everyone ready then?” Katie asked, standing in front of the Gryffindor team with a confident look spread determinedly over her face. “We’ve got to win this one “ Malfoy’s been getting cockier all weak, I think it’s about time we wiped that arrogant smirk off his face.”
“Hear, hear!” Jack added as Katie paused for breath. “The idiot spent half of last week trying to curse me every time he passed me in the corridor. He said something about I couldn’t hit a beach ball with a tennis racquet, let alone a Bludger with one of the bats.”
Euan sniggered. “And you hexed him into oblivion, right?”
“No,” Jack answered with a straight face. “I just told him that it was a shame they didn’t let animals on the Slytherin team. I told him that he’d otherwise be replaced by a ferret. He left me alone after that; can’t imagine why...”
“Ahem,” Katie interrupted, trying to look annoyed but losing the effect completely as the corners of her mouth twitched. “Let’s go and thrash them then. I know we can, we’ve got the superior team. Hopefully the weather is going to hold out “ we’ve played too many matches in the rain these last few years. Lions for the cup!”
With a final cheer, the team stood up and walked onto the pitch. Harry paused and gave Ginny a wide smile.
“Let’s go get ‘em,” Ginny said with a grin, trying to imitate Katie’s voice. “I’ve waited weeks to wipe that smirk off his face.”
Madam Hooch stood between both teams, her broom in one hand, a whistle in the other. “I want a nice, fair game. And that includes you two,” she added sternly as Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles at Euan, who recoiled slightly.
Harry glared at Malfoy who was looking equally determined.
“Three… two… one…” Fifteen brooms rose into the air on Madam Hooch’s whistle and Ginny snatched the Quaffle, flying determinedly towards the Slytherin goal posts.
Harry sped off towards the Gryffindor end while Malfoy tailed him. After fifteen fast, furious minutes, the score was 40 : 20 to Gryffindor but the Slytherin Chasers were beginning to close the gap.
“…Come on Ron, save it…?! Damn, forty thirty to Gryffindor, and it’s Katie Bell for Gryffindor in possession…”
Harry flew away towards the centre of the pitch, leaving Malfoy searching over the Gryffindor end. He was keeping half an ear on the score but most of his concentration was on searching for the Snitch. Harry hesitated for a second as he caught a flash of gold below him until he realised it was only Katie’s earring.
Damn…
The oppressive clouds that hung lazily in the sky seemed to have got progressively darker. Maybe Harry was imagining it but he felt they had an almost sinister look to them.
“Harry!” came Katie’s anguished yell as Ginny scored again for Gryffindor. “Harry, look up!”
Twisting his head round, barely thirty feet above him the Golden Snitch was hovering in the air. As if it had known Harry had seen it, the Snitch shot away into the clouds. Without looking back, Harry followed it at breakneck speed. As he went into the cloud itself, Harry felt a deep coldness sweep over his body. No, not now… he pleaded. Trying desperately to turn back, he swerved and a jet of blue light smashed into his broom. Within seconds, Harry himself was struck but this time it was with yellow light.
Harry wasn’t sure what spell he’d been struck with but he knew what the Firebolt had been hit by “ although his broom incorporated an unbreakable breaking charm, the steering could, theoretically, be interfered with. The Firebolt swerved upwards, away from Hogwarts and towards the south. Harry didn’t know why, but he couldn’t seem to remember how to stop the Firebolt either. If anything, he seemed to be making it go faster. Death Eaters began to swarm around him, Apparating on brooms within the clouds.
That means I’m outside of Hogwarts. Merlin only knows what spell they got me with…
Without understanding why, Harry drew out his wand and his Stag shot away from him, carrying just one simple word.
Before he could do or think anything else, a Death Eater grabbed his wand arm and Disapparated, taking Harry with him. Barely five seconds later, a jet of dazzling, brilliantly white light struck the tail of the Firebolt and it swung around and shot back towards the Quidditch stadium through the dense, thickening storm cloud.
Down in the stands, Dumbledore was sitting next to Professors Snape and McGonagall watching as the game unfolded. All of a sudden, Dumbledore froze in his seat, staring at the clouds.
“Albus?”
“He’s left the grounds,” breathed Dumbledore looking unnerved.
“What? What do you mean? Who’s left the grounds?”
The words were barely out of Professor McGonagall’s mouth when the attention of everyone in the stadium was drawn irresistibly towards a magnificent silver stag. All the players hung motionless in the air, all thoughts of the match abandoned. Even Malfoy had stopped in his search for the Snitch and froze in the air, his eyes lighting up in realisation. Harry’s Patronuntrius shot towards Dumbledore and stopped to face him. Harry’s pleading, desperate voice could be heard clearly by everyone as it echoed through the silence.
“Help.”
Instantly, Snape raised his wand and a jet of white light exploded from the end and disappeared into the swelling clouds. Within ten seconds, the Firebolt soared downwards and stopped in the centre of the pitch. Absolute silence followed as the Firebolt waited in the middle of the field looking as lost as a dog without an owner.
Professor McGonagall gasped and drew her hands up to cover her mouth, barely comprehending what this meant. Hermione, and Neville broke away from the terrified Gryffindors and sprinted over to the staff stands while, up in the air, Ron abandoned his goal post and soared over towards Hermione. Katie, looking horror struck, followed him. Dumbledore put his head in his hands, seemingly a broken man. Snape had visibly paled but straightened his back, a look of steely determination crossing his dark features, and looked directly at Dumbledore.
“I’ll get busy then, shall I? I said I would do this my way.”
It wasn’t really a question, Snape just swung around, his cloak flapping behind him, and pushed his way through the crowds as he headed towards the gates of the grounds.
Dumbledore watched him go and just before Snape left the gates, a silvery phoenix caught up with him.
“Severus, be careful…”
Nodding in recognition, Professor Snape Disapparated.
A/N : As always, I would love to know what you think of this story so far “ there isn’t far to go with this now but there is a sequel coming. Hopefully the end of my version of book six will be up before HBP comes out!
Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, your comments are hugely appreciated.
Thanks a lot!
And sorry about the cliffy! Well, not really… :)