Chapter 22 Into the Pit
Harry and Hermione had been at Hogwarts for five days when the fall term began and in that time they had neither seen Professor Lockhart nor learned if he would return as Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. The mystery of his whereabouts was cleared up by an ad in The Daily Prophet which arrived at breakfast time on Monday.
Protect Your Family With Lockhart Home Security
- Charms and Spells for your House
- Reliable Enchanted Items
- Personal Instruction on Defensive Spells
“All of that work to get his brain functioning and he leaves after only one term!” Hermione huffed indignantly.
“He’ll make more money in the private sector than he would as a teacher,” Ron observed.
“So I wonder if Dumbledore has found a replacement for Lockhart,” Harry said.
“You don’t know!” Ron exclaimed. “While you were off in Egypt and Mesopotamia and wherever, the real action was here. By the way did you meet a lot of witches in Witcheytaw?”
“It’s Wichita” Hermione said rolling her eyes, “and no we didn’t meet any witches there. We avoided the American magical community because their Department of Illusion is still angry about the Shrub affair.”
“What do you mean by the real action was here?” Harry asked. “Do you know who’s teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?”
“Well, yeah, I know,” Ron said. “And I know who’s taking over Potions classes for the first through fourth year students too.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, “it’s so Snape has more time for spy stuff.” Then Ron stuffed his mouth with bacon.
“Are you going to tell us or not?” Harry snapped.
“Aw chore,” Ron said chewing his words along with his breakfast. “Ish aw..”
“Chew with your mouth closed Ron, and let me tease them for awhile!” Ginny interrupted. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts Instructor is tall and handsome and young and he has tons of practical experience dealing with curses,” she said wistfully to Hermione. “And I think he loves me.”
Hermione looked startled and Ron started to choke. Ginny laughed while Harry patted Ron on the back until Hermione got out her wand and cleared his airway with a quick spell.
“It’s Bill!” Ginny giggled, “and Fleur will be the Introductory Potions instructor.”
“That’s horrible!” Harry said. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to Bill!”
“The job’s cursed, but Bill’s one of the best curse breakers in Britain,” Ginny said proudly. “And I think he’ll be a great Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor.
“Dennis will be upset…” Ron gasped, “when he learns Fleur is teaching fourth year Potions. His parents moved out of the country. He’s not back this year.”
Hermione squeezed Harry’s hand under the table.
Later that day Harry learned he would be having special lessons with Dumbledore. To Harry’s relief these were scheduled on evenings when Hermione was working in the hospital. That would give him several hours to ponder them before deciding how much to tell her.
Ron was appointed Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. Ron had done a lot in the previous year: organized Tuesday Night patrols, helped when the dragons escaped, plus Prefect duties. Apparently Dumbledore didn’t know, or didn’t care, about Ron’s involvement in the start of the riot before Christmas break. Dumbledore also thought that Harry needed more time for practicing defensive magic on his own.
There weren’t many students at the first meeting of S.P.E.W. in mid-September. The Creevy boys were gone and the fact that the Wizengamot had considered a bill calling for the arrest of Hermione as a trouble-maker didn’t help attract casual interest.
“Where’s Zach Smith?” Harry asked Ernie Macmillan.
“He’s angry that Hermione disagrees with his idea to send all of the elves to secluded areas,” Ernie explained. “All he really cares about is stopping cheap competition against small businesses.”
“Our first activity this year is a contest to design a poster and leaflet for a public-awareness campaign on the theme, “Be Kind to Elves,” Hermione said. “I also need a few people to volunteer to spend an hour reading to the elves and helping them with their own reading lessons.”
Then they practiced levitating objects to block the Death Curse.
“The best thing to use to block the Avada Kedrava curse is a disarmed Death Eater,” Harry said coldly. “It might stop the bad guy from casting the curse. I feel sorry about Theodore Nott’s death, but I feel a whole lot worse about Justin and Collen.”
The Dueling Club became the main outlet for Harry to teach spells to the other students while he learned advanced spells from Dumbledore and Bill in his private lessons.
While things were close to normal inside Hogwarts, there continued to be trouble in the wizarding community. Hardly a week went by without some story of Death Eater violence appearing in The Daily Prophet. People began to worry that the Ministry of Magic was loosing control. Some began to openly advocate making a deal with the Death Eaters.
Death Head Appears Over Aberdeen
Stuart McGillian of Aberdeen was murdered last night…
…widely regarded as an artist, McGillian was famous for his ability to cast charms that repelled dark magic. The unique protective items he produced were sold worldwide.
Diggory Survives Another Vote of No Confidence By a Narrow Margin.
Recent attacks by the followers of You-Know-Who and a growing international crisis prompted another call in the Wizengamot for Mr. Diggory to step down from the post of Minister of Magic…
Ron and Luna began to spend a lot of their free time together. They didn’t do a lot of hugging and kissing but they were often heard laughing. They made plans to attend the Halloween Ball dressed as a thestral. Their idea was to wear invisibility hats and tease Hermione.
Then in mid-October the whole wizarding community was shocked when The Daily Prophet reported the sudden death of the Minister of Magic.
Diggory Killed in Dragon Preserve Accident
The wizarding community of Britain mourns the death of the Minister of Magic Amos Diggory. Mr. Diggory was killed last night in an accident in the Highland Dragon Preserve. Details of the cause of Mr. Diggory’s death have not been released. Officials from the Ministry of Magic will say only that Mr. Diggory was working on Ministerial Business and died heroically in the line of duty.
Mr. Diggory’s distinguished career included many years of service in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and a Year as the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation before his unexpected elevation to the post of Minister of Magic.
Mr. Diggory was proceeded in death by his son Cedric Diggory, a Hogwarts Triwizard Tournament Champion, who was murdered by You-Know-Who two years ago and by his wife who was murdered in their home last year.
“Harry and Hermione please come in and sit down,” Dumbledore said solemnly as he beckoned to comfortable chairs in his office. “I will be telling you the circumstances of Mr. Diggory’s unfortunate death. It is most important that the details remain a closely guarded secret.”
“Did Mr. Diggory’s death have something to do with an Immortal Dark Wizard who is imprisoned in an ancient enchanted keep that’s lined with silver?” Harry asked.
“The existence of that prison in the Dragon Preserve is a Ministerial Secret. But perhaps Ronald Weasley isn’t very good at keeping secrets?” Dumbledore said grimly. “But to answer your question, yes. Amos Diggory decided to personally test the Gold Serpent Staff to see if it could kill a Dark Lord. He would not allow anyone else to take the risk.”
“The staff we found is useless. Isn’t it?” Hermione said sadly.
“Mr. Diggory entered the chamber where a Dark Wizard as terrible as Lord Voldemort has been imprisoned for a thousand years,” Dumbledore explained. “The staff from Kansas had no magical power and Mr. Diggory was killed. No attempt was made to recover either his body or the staff.”
“So the Gold plan is out,” Harry concluded.
“Perhaps there is a real Gold Serpent Staff somewhere and maybe it will be found,” Dumbledore said hopefully. “But for now we have no idea where it would be or if it exists. And if Lord Voldemort learns that we have reopened the search, he will know that we don’t have it.”
“We can’t give up hope on this Harry,” Hermione said quietly as they walked slowly back to Gryffindor tower. “The real Gold Serpent Staff would be the best way to attack Lord Voldemort. It could be found any day, maybe by someone who is looking for something else.”
Harry said nothing. He didn’t want to shoot down Hermione’s hope, but it was such a long shot. He couldn’t believe in it.
“The Ministry of Magic will build a Silver prison and it will only be necessary to weaken and capture Lord Voldemort,” Hermione said resolutely.
“Yeah,” Harry said tenderly. “When Lord Voldemort is locked up we can get on with our lives in peace. We’re going to have twelve children.”
“Twelve children!” Hermione exclaimed. “Says who?”
“Madam Trelawney predicted it, when Umbridge was there,” Harry answered with a smile. “I’m going to live to a ripe old age and be the Minister of Magic too.”
“Trelawney? She predicted you would live to old age?” Hermione said nervously.
She turned away from Harry and was silent. Harry put his hand on her shoulder. She shuddered and choked back a sob.
“Don’t cry Hermione,” Harry said softly. “She has to be right once in a while.”
“I’m Okay,” she said trembling. “Of course she’s right. I’m just upset by Mr. Diggory’s death. What he did was very brave. Cedric, his wife, now him, it’s just awful.”
“Diggory was a lot better than Fudge,” Harry said. “And the Serpent Staff,” Harry sighed. “It’s disappointing, we put a lot of hope into it.”
“Twelve children?” Hermione said doubtfully. “Okay. Fine. Good. Twelve children. Enjoy my flat tummy now because I’m going to be pregnant for many years. I’ll stay at home with the kids and run our own little hospital. I’ll become an expert at charming poop out of diapers. No problem. I’ll cook and do laundry and clean like a house elf. No problem. I’ll watch my diet and I’ll exercise and I’ll never smoke and I’ll never drink when I’m pregnant not even wine, but you just make sure that you do live to a ripe old age Harry Potter!”
Harry didn’t know who overheard them, but for the rest of the week Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil and several other girls assured Hermione that Harry was telling the truth and that Madam Trelawney really did predict Harry would have twelve children. They all gave her a pat on the back and told her how brave she was.
There had been a significant improvement in the relationship between Percy and the rest of the Weasley family since the year he sided with Fudge and Umbridge, but he still kept a bit aloof from them. His career took an amazing step forward after the death of Amos Diggory, The Daily Prophet reported:
Deadlocked Wizengamot Appoints Triumvirate to Run Ministry of Magic
Unable to decide on a new Minister of Magic the Wizengamot divided the responsibilities among three candidates. Amanda Bones, Joseph Steelman and Percival Weasley will be sharing the job of running the Ministry of Magic during these troubled times. Amanda Bones is widely regarded as a liberal, allied with the controversial Headmaster of Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore. Joseph Steelman is well known for upholding the conservative values of the traditional Wizarding community and was a close confident of former Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Young Percival Weasley, a recent graduate of Hogwarts from the Gryffindor house, thus assumes a key role as the likely swing vote on most controversial decisions…
The Gryffindor Quidditch team under the leadership of Captain Ronald Weasley soundly defeated the Slytherin team in the opening match of the season at Hogwarts. The victory party in Gryffindor tower included a few guests as well as Gryffindor students, most notably the Junior Co-Minister of Magic Percival Weasley. After a decent period of greetings, congratulations and celebration, but while the party was still quite noisy, Percy pulled Harry to one side.
“I need to have a private word with you Harry,” Percy said in a hushed tone.
They retreated to Harry’s bedroom with an Auror from the Ministry of Magic named Dawlish guarding the bedroom door. Percy conjured up a comfortable wing-backed chair while Harry grabbed the wooden chair from his desk.
“Harry I understand that you have been briefed on some of the details of Amos Diggory’s unfortunate death,” Percy began.
“He was very brave to face that Dark Lord,” Harry said.
“There were many volunteers to test the staff, most vocally Dumbledore,” Percy told him. “But Mr. Diggory would let no one else assume the risk. What you may not know is the method we used to open the ancient prison so Mr. Diggory could attack the Dark Lord.”
Percy paused leaving Harry to wonder why the details of opening the prison door should be of concern to him.
“The Demonic Wizard in that old prison is just as bad as You-Know-Who,” Percy went on. “Hundreds of Wizards and Witches died during his reign of terror a thousand years ago. We had to make sure he couldn’t get out.”
“So you couldn’t just open the door,” Harry guessed.
“Exactly,” Percy stated. “We had to construct an antechamber in front of the prison door that was completely lined with enchanted silver objects. Mr. Diggory was sealed into the antechamber with the staff that you found in that foreign Muggle museum. When the prison door was opened the Dark Lord within could only move into the new room, he could not get out.”
“It sounds complicated,” Harry said.
Harry stood and walked over to the window. He tried to imagine how Amos Diggory must have felt when he had been sealed in the antechamber. One door separated him from an Immortal Dark Wizard as evil as Lord Voldemort. His weapon was a gold staff that had refused to demonstrate that it was magical. As he stood there he noticed a white dove sitting on the windowsill.
“The construction of the antechamber was almost as ambitious as building a completely new Silver prison,” Percy explained. “It was quite expensive. It used up a lot of enchanted silver. And I’m sure you can deduce where we got the materials to build the antechamber.”
“You diverted materials from the building of the new Silver prison,” Harry surmised.
“If the Serpent Staff from Kansas had worked, the material diversion would have been irrelevant,” Percy rationalized. “But since that staff had no power, all we accomplished was giving that nasty old Dark Wizard a bigger prison. We can’t remove the materials we used to construct the antechamber without letting him out.”
“Can’t you get more materials to build the new Silver prison?” Harry asked.
Well yes Harry, but you must understand my position,” Percy explained defensively. “The Ministry of Magic has lost a lot of silver. It was very expensive! If I push for higher taxes or a bond issue to speed up the construction of the new Silver prison I could be easily squeezed out of the government. Plus our Chief Enchanter was recently murdered by the Death Eaters. The only man with comparable talent is an American and I dare say our relations with the Department of Illusion are at a low point.”
“So what you’re saying is that you can’t build a new Silver prison,” Harry said coldly.
“No, that’s not really fair,” Percy waffled. “What I’m doing is asking you a question. Is a new Silver prison is really necessary? And I’m warning you that this sort of construction project will take time.”
Percy said his good byes and left. As Harry listened to the sounds of Percy Weasley and Mr. Dawlish retreating down the stairs, he leaned his head against the window and sighed. Strangely the white bird did not fly away even though Harry had moved quite close to it.
“You remind me of an owl I once had,” Harry said to the bird. “He died for me.”
The bird moved closer to where Harry’s hand touched the glass.
“The Gold plan and the Silver plan do not look promising,” Harry said out loud. “The Red plan requires an impossible amount of my blood. And for the Brown plan to succeed, someone has to be magically bonded to Voldemort and sacrificed.”
Harry stared at his reflection in the glass.
“Who’s it going to be?” He asked himself.
He didn’t notice the bird fall off the windowsill.
The Red plan called for subduing Lord Voldemort and replacing most of the blood in his body with Harry’s blood. This would restore enough humanity to the Dark Lord that he could be killed. On the day following the talk with Percy, Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape met with Harry and Hermione to discuss the collection and preservation of several gallons of Harry’s blood.
The problem was that they could not use magic to accelerate the production of blood by Harry’s body without diluting the magical potential of Harry’s blood. They couldn’t collect too much blood from Harry at one time without making him anemic and weak. He would need time to recover between bleedings. It all came down to preserving the blood. Fortunately Dumbledore was an expert on blood-based magic. He provided Hermione with directions to make a potion that would preserve the blood. Professor Snape allowed her to use the Potions classroom and provided the ingredients from the cupboard.
“You’re being very careful,” Harry observed, as he chopped up some roots.
“It’s a very important potion,” Hermione stated. “Would you hand me that coumarin clover powder please” she said pointing to a bottle.
Harry handed her a piece of weighing paper with a small amount of powder weighed out.
“You have it weighed out already?” she said in surprise.
“I knew you would need it,” Harry said. “I can read the directions too.”
“What’s the next ingredient smart boy?” she asked.
“Finely chopped dandelion root,” he said handing her the chopped roots. “I always figured dandelions had some magical power, they grow so darn fast. It’s like chocolate I guess. There’s magic in a lot of things Muggles think are ordinary.”
“You really are good at potions, when you’re not being tormented and harassed,” Hermione said quietly after looking around to make sure Professor Snape wasn’t near.
“You help me with the homework and Ernie Macmillan is a great lab partner,” Harry replied.
“You’ve got talent. Professor Snape has never been fair to you,” Hermione said flatly.
“He harasses me less than he used to,” Harry observed. “Now he spends a lot of time looking at you.”
“It creeps me out,” she whispered, “but I think he’s just doing it to annoy you.”
A short while later she put the stopper in the phial of blood preservative potion. Harry cleaned up the mess.
“So much for our Sunday afternoon time to relax together,” Harry said glumly. “Extra potions work.”
“Now it’s off to the hospital, to see Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione said, looking away.
Was she starting to cry?
“It’s just a blood draw. That’s no big deal,” Harry said nonchalantly.
“Right,” she sniffed. “It’s no big deal. You’ll recover your strength.”
In early December an epidemic of Elfluenza swept through the kitchen and pantries of Hogwarts. Hermione put in overtime on her nursing shifts to help take care of the sick house elves. When she started missing suppers Harry decided to investigate. He found her in the kitchen, wearing tea towels and scrubbing pots. She was so thin and pale and she looked so tired.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked her. “You haven’t done anything to get detention have you?”
“I’m not in detention,” she said. “But so many of the elves are sick and there is so much work that has to be done.”
Harry rolled up his sleeves and approached the sink.
“Oh Harry thanks!” Hermione said smiling. “But you’re so tired, you need to rest.”
He saw his reflection in the glass of a china cabinet. He was ghostly pale and had dark circles under his eyes. The bleeding was getting to him.
“You’re right, I should go to bed early tonight,” he admitted. “But you look just as bad. I’ll leave when you leave. You’ve been transferring strength from your body to mine using sympathetic magic when I fall asleep in the common room, haven’t you?”
She said nothing but let him join her at the sink. They finished the dishes using magic where they could to speed things along. Then they walked back to Gryffindor tower.
“Harry, please don’t get angry me,” Hermione said in a tired voice.
“No, I understand how you feel about the elves,” Harry said quietly. “I think they love you too.”
“The Elfluenza epidemic is bad at the mine too,” Hermione said. “And they have no medicine.”
“Going to the mine is dangerous,” Harry pointed out. “We’re both tired. I won’t do it unless Shacklebolt helps us. We need to take the train. We’re not fit enough for a thestral ride.”
Over the next few days they collected medicine and planned another excursion to the mine in Cornwall. Dumbledore gave them permission to leave Hogwarts over the weekend as long as they stuck with Shacklebolt. Harry thought that Dumbledore was looking old and tired.
“You must tell the elves at the mine that you need help finding Lord Voldemort’s hide-out,” Dumbledore instructed Harry.
That Friday evening they took the train to London. On Saturday they rested in the Leaky Cauldron and took the late Muggle train to Salisbury. Shortly after midnight on Sunday Harry gave the last handful of supplies to a mine-elf and turned to look for Hermione. She had been nursing sick elves and had gone down a shaft out of his sight. He was very worried about her. He turned a corner and saw Hermione standing in the glow from a torch. She was bound and gagged. Then he saw Narcissa Malfoy with her wand pointed at Hermione.
“Harry Potter, are you so arrogant as to think that all of my elves are disloyal?” Mrs. Malfoy hissed. “I could have easily killed this scrawny Mudblood.”
Harry stared at Mrs. Malfoy. It would be difficult to jinx her without hitting Hermione but he didn’t lower his wand. What she had said was true. She could easily kill Hermione. But she just stared back at Harry. What was Mrs. Malfoy waiting for?
“You stole a baby elf from me,” she said without emotion.
“We’ve also provided food and medicine for your elves,” Harry countered.
“I don’t care about the elves,” Mrs. Malfoy spat. “This mine is for sale.”
Harry looked at Hermione, the look on her face said “I’m sorry.”
“What are you waiting for?” Harry asked.
“I want to talk to you,” Narcissa said.
“What’s there to talk about?” Harry said.
“Do you have the power to destroy the Dark Lord?” she asked.
“That’s what the Prophecy says.”
She pushed Hermione towards Harry.
“I want Draco back!” Mrs. Malfoy shouted.
“I don’t know where he is,” Harry said catching Hermione and keeping his wand pointed at Narcissa Malfoy.
“I know where he is!” she spat. “He’s with the Dark Lord! And I want him and his father back!”
Mrs. Malfoy lowered her wand and began to cry.