Today is March twenty-ninth. It’s been nearly six weeks since he was taken away. I wish that I had been more persistent that he not go to St. Mungos, but Harry always did what he wanted no matter the consequences. You’d think he would have learned his lesson when Sirius did the same thing and then died because of it.
I just wish I knew that he was all right. Once again, I find myself worrying, and Harry nowhere to be found. Strangely, my source of comfort has been reading his journal. It makes me feel closer to him somehow. Months ago, Harry told me the secret of how to use his journal. He did this to prove beyond, any doubt, that he trusted me, and that we were in this together.
I never actually thought I would be the one to write in it, but now I find it necessary. We have taken a huge step in the Horcrux search, but because Harry isn’t around to do it himself, I have taken it upon myself to record our story.
Since Harry’s arrest, Hermione, Ron and I have renewed our vigor in the search of the Horcruxes. To help us we decided it was best to bring in two enthusiastic and trustworthy members of the DA, Neville and Luna. I know Harry will be upset with us because of this, but the time for complete secrecy is over. We have to act fast, especially if Dolohov told Voldemort about the suite Horcrux. We can only hope that Voldemort hasn’t moved the cup, or created more Horcruxes yet.
With Neville and Luna’s help and dedicated work, we were finally able to locate the fifth Horcrux in Tom Riddle’s orphanage that he grew up in. We had checked there many times before hoping that it was indeed the cup’s resting spot, but with little success. It was Luna who figured out that it had been there the entire time. We had just been looking in the wrong place.
According to Luna, twenty years ago there was a fire at the orphanage causing more than half of the building to burn to the ground. It ended up killing three children and one of the caretakers. No one was sure what had caused the fire, but because the extent of damage there was only enough money to rebuild a small section of the burned area. The rest of the burned was torn down and made into a small park for the children to play in. It was in this small park that the Horcrux could be found, Luna claimed.
At first, this confused me. How could it be in the park? Luna then explained that it wasn’t actually in the park, but underneath it. She then continued to tell us that under the orphanage there was a network of long abandoned rooms and tunnels. Hermione was doubtful of this information. She had gone over all the public records concerning the orphanage and had never run across anything about a fire there. Luna had simply shrugged and said it must have been erased, because her father had done a piece on the story when it had happened. She remembered seeing the newspaper clipping in his office a few years ago.
We decided it wouldn’t hurt to look. Armed with this new knowledge, the five of us set out to explore the long buried and forgotten section of the orphanage. Once there, we managed to find our way to the lower levels of the orphanage undetected by the building’s occupants.
It wasn’t easy finding the entrance to the blocked off sections of the building, so Hermione ended up blowing a hole in a wall to where the unused portion should have been. We muffled the sound with a few charms and hoped for the best as we stepped into the darkness that lay before us. It seemed for once that Luna had her facts straight as we roamed the desolate rooms we found there. An hour’s search only turned up dust, debris, and rotting furniture. It wasn’t until Ron discovered a locked room that things started to get real hairy.
Opening the door was another challenge. It seemed every unlocking charm we knew didn’t work. It wasn’t until Hermione tried a few of the Half-Blood Prince’s tricks that the door even moved. I’m still in shock as I think about her using them. According to Harry she absolutely despises the use of the book and spells. I was going to ask her why the change of heart, but was knocked off my feet by a terrible blast as soon as the door was opened.
The blast became more and more powerful as every second passed. It felt like a thousand cold knives hitting my skin at once. The blast threw me over ten feet to where the opposite wall rested and I was nearly impaled by rusty spikes protruding towards my flesh. To my utter surprise, my flailing body was stopped inches from them. I turned my head and saw Neville holding on to the edge of the previously locked door for dear life. Somehow he had managed to pull out his wand and aim it my direction in time to stop me. A quick look and I saw that the others had managed to find something to hold onto as well. I sighed with relief.
Minutes passed as the cold air assaulted my body. I soon felt the chill in every part of me. I looked down at my fingers and saw the frost starting to collect there and realized that we were going to freeze to death if something wasn’t done soon. I desperately tried to think of a spell that could help with this situation, but the freezing wind was making it difficult to think. My muddled mind was at a loss of how to get out of this, and I began to panic. My panic was short-lived, however, as the wind subsided and my feet found the floor. I looked around in amazement as I saw the others settle to the ground as well. “What happened?” I asked.
Luna then began to explain the spell that she used and why, but I didn’t really understand what she was saying. She is such a sweet girl, but she really doesn’t make sense most of the time. I was just thankful that we were all alive and in one piece.
After we collected ourselves, we stepped through the door, but a little more cautious this time. Inside, we soon realized that we were in the right place. In the middle of the room, on top of a pedal stool stood the gleaming cup of Hufflepuff. It was even more spectacular than all the pictures I had seen of it in books. The golden cup radiated like a beacon to us as we filed into the room. Neville started to run forward to grab it, but Hermione stopped him. She knew, as well as Ron and me, that it wouldn’t be that simple. Even though we could not see anything else in the room, there was a trap, or traps somewhere.
Careful examination of the room yielded no insight as to what these traps could be. The room was simply empty besides the pedal stool and cup. Hermione finally came to the conclusion that the trap must be set closer to the cup. She explained that maybe Voldemort wanted to draw his prey in by letting them think they were home free. I asked her how she thought we could find an unseen trap. We then tried multiple revealing spells, but with no result.
It was then that Luna dreamily started to say something about sometimes having to walk into a trap to see it. The key was to know that a trap existed. I looked to Hermione and she shrugged her shoulders and said it was worth a try. We then spent a moment in awkward silence wondering who would be the one to volunteer to set the trap off.
Neville was the one to volunteer. Hermione, Ron, and myself began to protest, but he assured us that he wanted to be the one to do it. He wanted to contribute and this was how he was going to do it. After a long argument about who was going, Neville remained steadfast in his decision. We had no choice but to respect his wishes. Before stepping forward, he looked back, and I could see the determination in his eyes. At that moment my heart ached. It was the look I had seen in Harry’s eye so many times before.
As Neville stepped closer to the cup, we all held our breaths in anticipation, and our wands were ready. Nothing happened at first, and I dared hope that maybe there wasn’t another trap, but I was wrong. As soon as Neville touched the base of the cup to pick it up, a bright light blinded us.
I hid my eyes as I heard a terrible scream pierce the air. It was several long seconds before the light let up enough for me take my hands from my eyes. When I squinted to look for Neville, I saw him lying at the base of the pedal stool, cup in hand. I raced to him as fast as I could and shook to wake him, but he didn’t move. I checked his body over for any wounds, but found none. Fear and dread stabbed my heart as I felt for a pulse. I found it on his neck, but it was very weak.
In desperation I looked around for the others, but was knocked off my feet as I felt the room begin to move underneath me. It was then that I noticed that the floor was opening up. A large crack in the middle of the room was steadily getting larger and larger by the second. “We have to get out of here,” I yelled.
“We can’t,” someone yelled back. “The door closed and it’s locked.”
I asked if they tried the usual spells. Hermione said that she did and none of them work. I started to feel the panic again as I watched the crack get even wider. It had already expanded to almost three feet and we were nowhere near finding an exit. It was then that Luna pointed at the ceiling, “We could go up.”
I then noticed a small crack of light in the ceiling right above the pedal stool. I remembered that we were underground, and that right above us was the park. If we could make that crack wide enough, we could use it to climb to the surface above. It would be difficult since the ceiling was made of concrete, and we had no idea how thick it might be. I waived my arms to the ceiling above and told everyone to aim their wands at the small crack.
Four spells slammed into the ceiling, and an explosion of cement, dust, and dirt filled the air. I quickly moved away from the falling debris and hid my face as it rained down on me. A few large chunks of cement hit my back and sides making me fall to the ground in pain. It seemed like hours passed before the roaring sound of falling debris died away.
I then slowly and painfully pulled myself from the still rapidly moving floor as I looked for the others. Ron, Hermione, and Luna were making their way to the pedal stood. Ron came towards me with a concerned look on his face, but I yelled that I was fine. I then joined the others as we stood underneath a gapping hole. Bright sunlight shined down on us.
After taking a moment to use a charm to lift a still unconscious form of Neville, we then each found our way to the surface. As I looked around, I noticed that our hasty exit had not gone unnoticed. Nearby was a playground and little kids had stopped playing to watch the three of us lift our friend and carry him away from the gapping hole in the ground.
I walked up to one of the adults watching the kids and told her that she may want to block off the hole before anyone gets hurts by falling in. The older woman did not answer as she stood starring at me. It was then that I realized what a sight I must have been covered in dirt and coming from a hole in the ground that previously was not there minutes before. I decided it was best just to leave. Any explanations would just make things worse. So I turned and ran to catch up with the others. After we were safely away from the prying eyes of the muggles, we apparated to St. Mungo’s hospital.
We spent the next several hours at the hospital getting our own wounds looked after and waiting impatiently for news about Neville’s condition. Finally, a Healer came out and told us that Neville was unstable and that they were doing everything they could to help him. She then began to ask us questions about what happened to him. How he was exposed to such a spell in the first place. Hermione took over as she began to weave a tale of half-truths. It was then that I decided to leave.
Being at the hospital reminded me of the last time I was there, when Harry and I had gone to see Tonks, new baby, Remus Jr. I knew that the Order members were doing what they could to find out about Harry and to help him if they could. But the Ministry was being unusually quiet about the whole thing. No one even knew how long he would be held, and there was no news on whether there would be a trial or not. This upset many of the Order members, since it is against the law to hold anyone for a long period of time without giving the accused a trial to plead their case.
After leaving the hospital, I went straight to Hogwarts. I had taken the cup from Neville and was determined to put it in a safe place. I made my way to the Room of Requirements and placed it there until we are able to find a way to destroy the Horcrux locked inside. Now I am waiting for news of Neville, wondering if he will survive. Brave Neville, your sacrifice will not be forgotten.
Ginny laid down her quill and whispered a word. She watched as the text before her disappeared from the page. Slowly she gathered her things and searched for the exit to the library. Ten minutes later she found herself in her bedroom. After hiding Harry’s journal in her trunk, she sat on the edge of her bed and began to cry.
Harry sat back on his cot breathing heavily. Just because he was locked in an 8x8 cell didn’t mean he couldn’t still stay in shape. He had started a daily exercise routine a week after he was imprisoned. It was good for him. Not only did it keep him fit, it also worked out some of the frustration he felt for being here in the first place. But then he only had himself to blame. He just had to leave the safety of Godric’s Hollow to go see Tonks new baby. Harry shook his head. Well, at least it solved the issue of whether he should turn himself in or not. No, he should have listened to Ginny. He most certainly was not doing anybody any good by being in here, and Scrimgeour made it clear that the only reason he was holding Harry was to find out where Snape was and to gloat. How that man became Minster in the first place was beyond Harry.
He fumbled with the underside of his mattress and pulled out an item hidden there. He looked down and lightly caressed the leather covering of his mother’s diary. Thank you, Ginny. She had one of the Order members smuggle it in along with his father’s pedant. Harry felt the hard metal disk resting on his chest and smiled. As soon as he saw it, he had put in on. These few objects and the letter Ginny had sent were enough to pull him from the terrible mood that he had been in since being thrown in this place.
Harry opened the journal, sat back, and began to flip through the pages. He had already read a great deal from the book. Every word seemed to bring him closer and closer to his parents. For the first time in his life, he felt like he knew his parents. It was fascinating for him to read about them and their lives, to finally know what they were really like. He turned to a page about halfway through the book and saw that it was a passage he had yet to read.
May 23rd, 1979
Today I ran into an old friend while shopping at Diagon Alley. It was very unexpected and awkward as I bumped into the heavily clad man. Most would not have recognized him because of his disguise, but I did. I would never forget those eyes. We had been friends all through Hogwarts, but that changed when I married James. He had taught me so much, and I him. Why did he have to be so stubborn? And why couldn’t James understand that all he wanted was for someone to care? But James kept insisting that he wanted more than friendship from me. I still wonder if it was jealousy speaking instead of truth. James never was very fond of Severus.
Somehow I feel that is it my fault that dear Severus fell to Voldemort’s ranks. I pleaded with him not turn his back on all that was good in the world, but he would not listen. I asked him why, and he simply replied with a turned back. It was the last time I had seen him, until today. He barely acknowledged me as we passed each other in the streets, and then I knew that any friendship we may have had was over.
I dare not tell James of the encounter, because he would then demand that I should have stopped him and have him arrested on the spot. Our friendship may be over, but I could not do such a thing. We were friends, once upon a time.
Harry read the entry several more times before it began to sink in. They were friends. Relief began to flood through him. So that was all. They were just friends. Harry felt a great weight lift from his heart as he closed his eyes. There were many things he could take, but the idea of Snape and his mother as a couple was not one of them. But James kept insisting that he wanted more than friendship from me… No wonder his father and Snape hated each other so much.
Harry remained laying on his bed, eyes closed as he imagined his parents together. He could see them smiling and laughing at each other’s jokes. He could see them playing peek-a-boo with him as a baby. That was how things where suppose to be, him and his parents carefree and happy.
Smiling broadly, Harry began to drift off to a sleep full of wishful dreaming and half remembered memories. He failed to notice in his bliss the hungry growl of his stomach, or the fact that the guards were an hour late in delivering his supper.
“Harry, wake up.”
Harry felt himself being shaken violently and slowly opened his eyes. A blurred figure was leaning over him, and Harry had to blink his eyes a few times to clear his vision. He was surprised to see it was Mad-Eye who was standing over him. A look behind the man revealed Mr. Weasley and Bill. Harry sat up quickly. “What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly worried and suspicious. Why would Scrimgeour allow him to have visitors?
A gruff Mad-Eye bore his magical eye onto Harry as if suspecting him of something, “You’re all right?”
Harry shrugged, “Yeah, I’m fine. They’ve been treating me well for the most part.”
“That’s not what he meant,” a pale-faced Mr. Weasley said quietly.
Harry looked around at the three men in the room; they were obviously very rattled about something, “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
Bill cleared his throat to answer, “They’re dead. All of them.”
Alarmed at this, Harry braced himself as he asked, “Who?”
“Everyone in the Ministry. All of them just up and died sometime last night. We think Voldemort must have used his secret weapon against the Ministry,” Bill explained.
“So that leaves the question,” Mad-Eye’s magical eye seemed to cut a swath to Harry’s very soul, “why are you still alive, Mr. Potter?”