Underground

Dewey, Mercy, Sung-Hee, and Chloe walked for what seemed like miles. They passed a long, long line of goblins carrying wooden boxes labeled “Demolitions” and “Warning! Explosive Materials!” in bright red letters. That didn't sound like anything they could have gotten from wizards, so Dewey suspected it was more Muggle stuff. He would have asked Chloe about exactly what sort of “explosive materials” Muggles used, but he doubted the goblins wanted them conversing.

They passed several branches in the tunnels, and turned more than once. Dewey was trying to keep the turns straight in his head, but he wasn't at all sure he'd be able to find his way back, given the opportunity. He was amazed at what an extensive network the goblins had dug down here. It must have taken a very long time. Were they still under Hogwarts? By now, they could be under Hogsmeade or the Forbidden Forest for all he knew.

Finally they came to a hole in the tunnel, sealed with a wooden door. Bagrim opened it, and shoved Chloe inside. She squealed as she fell face-first into the dirt. Mercy and Sung-Hee were pushed just as rudely, and then Dewey was prodded inside by the spear-carrying goblin behind him.

There were a couple of those blue-white lights sitting in the corner, providing dim illumination within. It was nothing more than a packed dirt excavation. Chloe lay unmoving, sprawled in the dirt where she had fallen, the Sorting Hat still sitting on her head. Slipfang leaned in, and said, “I'll be back soon, after I count our casualties. Have you ever sat on a severed head, hat?”

The goblin slammed the door. Dewey could see little except Mercy and Sung-Hee's eyes, reflecting their fear in the pale phosphorescent light. He was sure his eyes were reflecting the same thing, but he tried to sound confident as he sat down awkwardly next to Chloe. It was hard to sit comfortably with his hands tied behind his back.

“Chloe,” he whispered. “It's all right. Why don't you sit up?”

Chloe was lying face-down, sobbing. Finally she curled her knees up to her chest, and with some difficulty, managed to flip herself over and sit up. The hat slid off her head and lay in the dirt next to her. She sniffed.

“What's the goblin talking about?” Dewey asked.

“Isn't it obvious?” she replied, her whisper more of a high-pitched squeak. “He's going to cut off my head!”

“Shh,” Dewey said. “No he's not.”

“Yes, he is! He wanted the Sword of Gryffindor and Professor Llewellyn said only the Sorting Hat knows where it is, but it wouldn't say. So the goblin t-t-took me and the hat, and said either the hat is going to tell him or...” She burst into tears again.

Dewey shook his head. “Slipfang wants the sword of Godric Gryffindor? Why?”

“I don't know!” Chloe wailed, and Dewey scooted closer, and tried to comfort her. He wished he could put an arm around her, but he had to settle for leaning against her.

“Chloe! Shh! We're going to get out of here. There are going to be wizards from the Ministry on their way even now. They'll rescue us. You think they can't follow some goblins down a tunnel? These goblins have no idea what wizards are capable of!”

He almost believed that himself, for a moment. Chloe did quiet down, except for the occasional sniffle.

Dewey looked down, at the shadowy lump on the floor of their cell that he knew was the Sorting Hat. “How about it then, hat?” he asked. “Do you know where the Sword of Gryffindor is?”

“Are you a Gryffindor?” asked the hat.

Dewey frowned. “You ought to know.”

“Well then why are you asking me, Dewey Diggory?”

The hat's snippy attitude hadn't improved since the Sorting Ceremony. Dewey felt his patience running out.

“Well, I don't know, maybe because goblins are going to start killing us if you don't tell 'em what they want to know? And then maybe they'll cut you up for being a smarmy, useless old rag!”

“Dewey!” scolded Mercy.

“Sorry,” Dewey muttered, but the hat chuckled.

“Glad you think this is so amusing,” he snapped. Then he looked at Chloe. “Chloe's a Gryffindor. You can tell her where the sword is.”

“So she can tell the goblins, and the goblins can take it?” replied the hat.

“Which is more important, a bloody sword, or someone's life?” Dewey demanded.

“Stop it, Dewey,” said Chloe. “Stop blaming the Sorting Hat. Everyone knows I'm not a Gryffindor anyway.”

Dewey sighed. “Don't say that, Chloe.”

“It's true. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave.”

“And you think you're not brave, why? Because you're scared out of your mind right now? Do you think any of us aren't? And all those other Gryffindors the goblins captured, you think they're sitting around wherever the goblins took them and laughing at what a great adventure they're having?”

“But I've never been brave,” Chloe sniffed.

“That's not true, Chloe,” Mercy said quietly, surprising them both. “Facing those Slytherin girls, apologizing to Violet right in front of everyone. That was really brave.”

Chloe snorted. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “It doesn't matter. I'm just... not a Gryffindor.”

Silence fell over them, and then Dewey asked, “Do you want to be a Gryffindor?”

Chloe sniffled again, and then said, in a very small voice, “Yes.”

“Well,” said the Sorting Hat, “you can want to be a unicorn for all the good it will do you.”

“How is that supposed to be helpful?” Mercy demanded. “You put her in Gryffindor!”

“Indeed I did. But does Miss Grey think she belongs where I put her?”

“What does it matter now?” Chloe mumbled. “You're right, you can't just give them the Sword of Gryffindor.”

“Not even to save your life?” the hat asked.

“Bollocks to that!” Dewey exclaimed. “A sword is just a sword! I don't care how old and valuable it is, no one should die for a hunk of metal!”

“I agree,” the hat said softly.

Chloe sniffed, then said, “Don't tell me, because I won't tell them. I'd rather be brave and dead. Maybe I can come back as Completely Headless Chloe.”

“Chloe!” Mercy gasped.

“That,” sputtered Dewey, “is just stupid! That's not bravery, it's just feeling sorry for yourself!”

“Maybe a little of both,” said the Sorting Hat.

“You know, you're really not being very helpful,” Dewey told it.

“No one's asked for my help,” the hat pointed out.

“If I did ask for your help, would it get us out of here?”asked Chloe.

“I suppose that depends on how you make use of it.” And then the hat said, “Would you mind picking me up, Miss Grey? I don't like sitting in the dirt very much.”

“Neither do we,” Dewey muttered.

Chloe sighed, and scooted around and tried to reach for the hat with her tied hands. “I don't think I can get you back on my head. I might be able to get you onto my lap — oh!” She let out a startled gasp, and then was silent for a moment.

“What?” Dewey asked.

Chloe was very quiet, then let out a long, “Ooh.”

Dewey looked at Mercy, who looked back at him. Neither of them could tell what had provoked Chloe's reaction, until Dewey looked down and saw one of the artificial blue lights reflecting off of metal.

“What —?” he stammered.

“Is this...?” Chloe breathed.

“Yes, it is, Miss Grey,” said the Sorting Hat. “And whatever you choose to do with it, it is the right thing.”

“Er, want to explain to us non-Gryffindors what's going on?” asked Dewey.

“It's the Sword of Gryffindor,” Chloe murmured.

Everyone was completely silent for several shocked seconds.

“I don't know what I can do with it,” Chloe said, “since the goblins will see it as soon as they open the door again.”

“I don't suppose it's sharp?” asked Dewey.

“Well, I imagine so,” said Chloe, “but how does that help us?”

“Sharp enough to cut ropes?” asked Dewey.

“Yes,” Chloe said, “but...” And then she said, “Oh,” again.

He heard her shifting position, moving her arms awkwardly behind her back, and then she was rocking back and forth. A moment later, Dewey saw the blade flash as Chloe, hands freed, picked up the sword.

“Brilliant!” said Dewey. Then he realized that even with a sword, they were very far from having any realistic way of escaping.

“You brats are making a lot of noise,” said a goblin voice, through the door. The latch was thrown back, and Bagrim opened the door. “I liked it better when you were all quiet.” He was just a black silhouette, against the brighter light outside in the tunnel, but they could see he was holding that Muggle weapon again. He stepped inside, and pointed it at Mercy. “We still don't need all of you.”

“No!” Chloe cried, and with a quick, desperate motion, she thrust the sword into the goblin.

He didn't even make a sound. The pistol dropped out of his hands, and he looked down at Chloe, startled. She looked equally shocked. Then the goblin sagged forward. Chloe moaned as Bagrim practically fell on top of her, his body weight driving the sword the rest of the way through him.

Dewey, Mercy, and Sung-Hee could only stare in wide-eyed horror. Chloe was making incoherent noises, shaking violently.

“Chloe,” Dewey whispered. She finally looked in his direction.

“I know this is very upsetting, but it would be a really good idea for you to pull the sword out of the goblin, and cut the rest of us free.” He couldn't believe how calmly he'd said that. His gorge was rising.

“Right,” Chloe whispered, in a high-pitched voice. She sounded on the verge of hysteria, but she pulled the sword free, with a sound Dewey was going to remember for the rest of his life, and then he tried not to notice the wetness that dripped onto his hands as she moved behind him and cut the ropes tying his wrists.

Mercy and Sung-Hee were unable to speak, and barely able to stand, as Dewey and Chloe helped them to their feet. Chloe quickly cut their bonds as well.

“All right, we've got no choice,” Dewey whispered. He knew they might be about to walk out into a tunnel full of goblins, in which case they were all dead. But he was pretty sure they'd all be dead if Slipfang or some other goblin came and discovered Bagrim's body in the cell with them.

Chloe nodded mutely. And as they moved towards the round hole in the chamber wall, Dewey whispered, “Don't forget the Sorting Hat!” He grabbed the hat, and put it on Chloe's head. Then he looked at the Muggle weapon for a moment. He wasn't sure how to use it, and he wasn't sure he could.

Then he remembered what Professor Binns had said about goblins, and he remembered Alduin, lying dead on the floor of the Hufflepuff common room, and he picked up the pistol. He and the three girls took deep breaths, and stepped out into the tunnel.

Once Violet, Nagaeena, and Stephen snuck past the open pit in the floor of the dungeon, getting out of the castle had been deceptively easy. The goblins seemed to be clearing out as well, so the three Slytherins were able to sneak up the same staircase that Teddy and Dewey had once sneaked down, when they were trying to intercept Slipfang. There had been a bit of running down hallways, hiding in a classroom, going up one floor and down another, all to evade more goblins, but when they found themselves in a musty old passageway on the ground floor, beneath the Owlery, they thought they were safe. The heavy wooden door that would let them out of the castle was barred from the other side. Stephen handily blasted it open, and they emerged into the misty rain.

They got almost to the greenhouses when goblins started shouting. Some of them were outside, and the noise from Stephen's spell had brought them running.

Violet knew that running towards the Forbidden Forest was only likely to forestall their demise, but when you have goblins chasing you, an unpleasant death at some point in the near future seems more palatable than an unpleasant death right now, so that was the direction they ran. Unfortunately, the forest was a lot further away than it looked when you weren't running for your life, and Violet had never regretted her tiny stature and short legs more than she did right now. Even Nagaeena was easily able to outpace her. Stephen looked over his shoulder, and Violet felt a brief flash of gratitude, along with irritation at his stupidity, when he slowed down so he wouldn't leave her behind.

“You... keep... running,” she panted.

“Violet!” screamed someone from above. Stephen looked up, and so did Violet.

Kai and Gilbert were descending out of the sky, Kai on a broom, Gilbert on Violet's bicycle.

Stephen and Violet stared at them, and Nagaeena turned around, and then almost tripped over herself. Gilbert's wheels hit the wet grass and skidded for several yards, as Kai landed right next to Violet and Stephen.

“Get on!” Kai yelled.

Gilbert looked at Nagaeena, and gestured. “Get on!” He scooted forward on the narrow seat. “Hurry!”

She stared at him, and at the bicycle. “You must be mad.”

A crossbow bolt whizzed over their heads. She shrieked, and jumped onto the seat behind Gilbert and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I still don't like you!” she said, clinging to him as they took off.

Stephen jumped on the broom behind Kai, and Violet got on behind Stephen. The three of them together weighed not much more than an adult, but their weight was distributed unevenly on the old broom, so it wobbled a bit as it took off. Kai leaned forward, trying to force it to accelerate, as more crossbow bolts zipped past them.

The ground dropped away, as they followed Gilbert and Nagaeena.

There was a crack, and then another. Something whizzed through the air by Violet's ear.

“Bloody hell!” swore Gilbert. “They're shooting at us! With guns!”

“Go higher! Go higher!” Nagaeena screamed.

There were a few more bangs, until they reached a height high above Hogwarts' towers. From here, they could also see Hogsmeade in flames.

“That way,” said Gilbert, pointing at a hillside on the other side of the lake, and well outside Hogwarts' grounds, and beyond the range of any guns.

Kai grunted, and Gilbert aimed his bicycle in that direction.

“What do we do now?” Gilbert asked.

“What can we do?” asked Stephen. “Even the teachers are helpless. We're lucky we got this far.”

“It was more than luck,” Violet murmured. She closed her eyes, resting her head against Stephen's back. She had never realized that being scared could be so exhausting.

The grassy slope of the hillside loomed ahead. Gilbert descended towards it, and Kai continued to follow right behind him.

“All right,” said Gilbert. “If we all think, maybe we can come up with something we can do to help.”

“Help?” Nagaeena exclaimed. “I am not going back there!”

“No one's asking you to,” said Gilbert.

He set down with a bump, and lay down the bicycle, ignoring Nagaeena's squeal of protest as she slipped and nearly fell off. The three kids on the broom touched down more roughly.

“Nice landing,” said Stephen, picking himself up off the ground.

Violet, who had tumbled head-over-heels when Kai slammed the broom to the ground, sat up and rubbed her head. “Well done, Kai.”

“Sorry,” Kai groaned. “I'm not feeling well.” He rolled over and stretched out on the grass.

“Kai!” Violet said, rising to her feet. “What do you think you're doing? This is no time to take a nap!” She was aghast.

“Sorry, Vi,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “Just need a little rest.” Violet's mouth dropped open, and then Nagaeena screamed. That's when they saw that there was a hole in Kai's thigh. His trousers were soaked with blood.

Gilbert and Violet both knelt next to him. “Kai!” they cried out together. Gilbert pressed his hand against the bubbling wound. “He's been shot!”

“I can see that!” Violet said, in a strangled voice. She felt panic rising. None of them knew any healing spells. There was nowhere left to go for help. “Kai, please wake up!”

Gilbert had pulled off his jacket and was tying it tightly around Kai's upper leg. Even Violet could see that this would only slow the bleeding down a little. Then Gilbert put his arms under the smaller boy, and scooped him up.

“Nagaeena, stand the bike back up for me,” he ordered. Nagaeena gaped at him, and then grabbed the bicycle's handlebars and pulled it upright, looking a bit uncertain.

“What are you doing?” Violet asked breathlessly, following the taller Ravenclaw as he walked back to the bicycle.

“There's a town, just a few miles away, on the coast,” said Gilbert. “I could see it while we were flying over Hogsmeade. I'm going to take him there.”

The other three stared at him. “A Muggle town, you mean?” Violet exclaimed.

“Yes, a Muggle town, with a Muggle hospital.” Gilbert swung his legs over the bicycle frame, sat on the seat, and wrapped one arm around Kai's chest, who mumbled something as Gilbert set him on the seat in front of him.

Violet stood there for a moment, feeling so utterly helpless she didn't know what to do, and then she said, “I'll come with you.” She actually took a step towards the broom, before Gilbert snapped, “No you won't! What help will you be? It's going to be troublesome enough trying to land a bicycle without being seen. And then there'll be all the questions.”

“Questions?” Violet repeated faintly.

“Doctors, policemen, social workers... when a kid shows up at the hospital shot in the leg, they're going to ask questions! What will you tell them? Have you ever even met a Muggle?”

Violet frowned.

“Stay here,” Gilbert said, and he aimed the bicycle downhill, let it start rolling, pedaled until he'd gathered speed, and then lifted off. With one hand holding a handlebar, and the other holding Kai on the seat with him, he couldn't wave, and he didn't look back. The three Slytherins just watched him fly away.

“So you just sat there pretending to be unconscious the whole time?” Teddy asked, astonished.

“What else could I do?” Ophilia snapped. “First a goblin took my wand — putting his nasty little hands all over me in the process!” She shuddered. “Then they took the first-years out, and then threatened to kill anyone remaining who didn't drink the pumpkin juice!” She shuddered again. “I've always hated pumpkin juice.” She glared at the elves, who cowered before her despite their newly-free status. “Then, after the goblins left, these little turncoats just sat on the High Table sniveling and crying. I assumed if I stirred from my spot, they'd have continued following Slipfang's orders, and strike me down!”

“Yes,” said one of the elves. “We would have.”

“Don't blame them, Ophilia. They were enslaved against their will.” The house-elves looked up at Teddy gratefully. “Are there any more house-elves serving the goblins?” he asked.

They nodded. “But they is underground now.”

“House-elves,” muttered Ophilia. “House-elves did all this.”

“Well, not by themselves,” said Teddy. “And not overnight. Slipfang must have had 'em helping him all along.” The elves nodded.

“Can you wake up all the sleeping students and professors?” Teddy asked.

The elves shook their heads. “They will wakes up in a few hours, Teddy Lupin.”

“A Rejuvenation Potion would wake them sooner,” said Ophilia. “But it would take at least an hour to brew a new batch.”

“Can you take me to where the goblins are holding the other kids captive?”

Ophilia laughed out loud. “Look at you, Lupin! You can barely stand!”

The elves shook their heads again. “We has only been in the tunnels to bring Mas — Slipfang in and out of the school,” said one of the elves.

“Is there any way you can Apparate to where the captives are?”

Once again, the elves shook their heads, looking more and more distressed. “Not if we doesn't know where they is,” said Golly.

“Wonderful. They're powerful enough to turn Hogwarts over to an invading goblin army, and then they become completely useless!” snapped Ophilia.

“Ophilia!” Teddy frowned at her. He looked at the elves again. “You have unblocked the Floo Network and all the other ways Hogwarts can communicate with the outside world?”

The elves started, and looked at each other, then back at Teddy, cringing.

“Do that,” he commanded, and then amended, “Please?”

Golly nodded.

“Can you please find Professor Sinistra also?” he said. “And if someone could go to the infirmary and check on Colin and Alfred, and Gryffindor Tower and see if Edan and Judith are all right?”

All four elves disappeared with a crack.

“How very helpful they are,” Ophilia drawled.

Teddy glared at her, then went to the nearest table, and spread out the Marauder's Map to inspect it again. He tried to count who was missing, among the names he recognized from the D.A., but his head was still spinning so much he couldn't focus. He became aware of Ophilia leaning over his shoulder to look at it curiously.

“What an interesting magic item,” she said.

Teddy was sure Harry wouldn't be happy about how many people he'd shown the map to by now, but that was probably near the bottom of the list of things Harry was going to be unhappy about.

“Hugh,” Ophilia murmured, with an intake of breath. “And Jonathan, and Elizabeth... all the Quidditch players.” Teddy looked at the map, and saw the entire Slytherin team in a little group in the locker room at the Quidditch pitch. Surprisingly, there were only a few goblins nearby.

“You reckon they got ambushed in the showers?” asked Teddy.

“I think they'd have been hard to capture otherwise,” Ophilia said. She hesitated. “They wouldn't show up on your map if they were...?”

Teddy shook his head. “I don't think so.”

“Why did they just leave them there, then? Rather than taking them hostage?”

“I believe they plan to kill them,” said a solemn, musty voice.

Teddy and Ophilia both spun around. Teddy was shocked to see Professor Binns and Professor Sinistra walking into the Great Hall. Or rather, Professor Sinistra was walking, and Professor Binns was floating. One of the house-elves was following Sinistra.

“What?” Ophilia exclaimed, and then Teddy got over the shock of hearing Professor Binns speaking to anyone outside his classroom, and realized what it was he'd said.

“I overheard them discussing it,” said the History of Magic teacher. His tone was serious, and he was still in lecturing mode, even now. “Goblins have a particular animus towards Slytherins, you know. It actually extends well back in history, but the recent unpleasantness involving the Dark Lord certainly exacerbated —”

“What do you mean they're going to kill them?” Ophilia hissed, barely maintaining her composure.

“Something about setting the Quidditch pitch on fire, I didn't quite catch all of it,” Binns replied, annoyed at being interrupted.

“If I hadn't had to drag you out of the teacher's lounge so you'd notice that the school was under siege...” muttered Professor Sinistra, shaking her head.

“Yes, someone really should have told me sooner,” said Binns. “It's so rare one gets an opportunity to observe goblins in an informal setting. Of course my Gobbledegook is rusty, but I believe I've gleaned the gist of —”

“Then kindly go glean some more!” snapped Sinistra. “Anything you hear them saying might be helpful!” And when Binns looked dubious, she added, “Think about publication, Cuthbert! Your CV could stand to be updated, couldn't it?”

“Well, my publication history has been a bit sparse lately,” he admitted reluctantly. “I believe that Baron fellow said something about the goblins digging a tunnel beneath the school?” And he slowly descended through the floor and disappeared.

Ophilia looked at Teddy's map. “There are still goblins outside,” she said.

“They must have something planned at the pitch if they're going to set it on fire,” Teddy replied.

She looked at him. “With your map, I believe I could get there and avoid goblins.”

Teddy frowned. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“And you're such an excellent judge of good ideas,” she said sarcastically. “Teddy. Please, let me borrow that map.”

“What are you two talking about?” asked Sinistra.

They both ignored her. Teddy rubbed his head. “No,” he said. He rose to his feet, and tried to hide the way he swayed when he did. “I'll go with you. We can get Colin and Alfred...”

“You?” Ophilia sneered. “How many times have you been hit on the head today? And more first-years are only going to get in my way.”

Teddy shook his head. Another mistake. “Ophilia, it's too dangerous.”

She barked laughter.

“You don't even have a wand!”

She stopped laughing, and stared at him a moment.

“No,” she said quietly. “But you do.”

Teddy stared at her, as did Sinistra. “You want to borrow my wand?” he exclaimed. “Are you mental?”

“Miss Karait!” gasped Sinistra, sounding affronted on Teddy's behalf.

“Think!” she hissed. “Do you know any useful spells at all? Stunning, disarming, blasting, severing, binding, confounding, conflagration, even a Tickling Charm?”

Teddy frowned. None of those were first-year spells. He knew a few minor hexes and jinxes, which would be a distraction at best. Not to mention, other than Color Change Charms, his spells lately had been woefully impotent.

“You're asking to borrow my wand!” he repeated slowly.

That just wasn't done. Wands chose the wizard, and you couldn't just pick up another wizard's wand and expect it to work for you nearly as well. Not only that, but wands were about the most personal item any witch or wizard owned. His grandmother had told him that even married couples didn't casually lay hands on one another's wands.

Ophilia leaned forward, to look directly into his eyes, and cupped his cheeks in her hands. “I'm asking you to give me a chance to save my mates,” she said. “Wouldn't you do the same?” Teddy swallowed and looked away. “Or don't you trust me?” she asked softly.

“Do I understand that you mean to venture out of the castle and confront goblins, Miss Karait?” asked Professor Sinistra.

“Yes,” said Ophilia, not taking her eyes off of Teddy. “And I'll do it with or without a wand.”

Teddy looked back at her. The Prefect's gaze was raptor-like; predatory, merciless, and unblinking. Slowly, Teddy extended his wand to Ophilia. She closed her fingers around it, and for a moment he could see a flash of gratitude in her eyes, and then she held it up, examining it critically.

“Alder,” she muttered. “Heavier than I'd expect. We'll have to see how well it performs in my hand.”

Teddy felt his face getting hot for some reason. Ophilia looked bemused, and then leaned forward again, to give him a kiss on the lips, as she gently pried the map out of his other hand.

“You are adorable,” she said, as Teddy turned six shades of red. “Much too young though,” she added with a sigh. “Pity.”

“That was completely inappropriate,” huffed Professor Sinistra. Then she said, “Miss Karait, I can't allow this. It's much too dangerous.”

Ophilia looked at her. “With all due respect, Professor, you'll have to stop me.” And she turned on her heel and strode towards the side exit from the Great Hall.

Sinistra gasped in disbelief. She glanced at Teddy, and he saw doubt and worry tearing at her. And then something else — a spark of resolve.

“Miss Karait. Wait.” And she followed after Ophilia, with the house-elf following after her.

Teddy shook his head, as if snapping out of a daze. Golly reappeared next to him with a crack. She held out a cup of tea.

“Golly thinks Teddy Lupin could probably use this,” Golly said. “Two Gryffindor childrens in the infirmary is all right, but all the others is asleep.”

Teddy took the tea gratefully, and then said, “Thank you, Golly.” He gulped it all down, rather than sipping it. A calming sensation spread through his body.

He heard weeping, coming from the Entrance Hall. Ophilia and Sinistra were already gone, so Teddy stood up, and walked cautiously to the wide doorway separating the halls. He saw a congregation of ghosts gathered near the stairs. It was the Fat Friar who was weeping, silvery tears running down his ghostly cheeks. The Gray Lady of Ravenclaw Tower and Nearly Headless Nick were trying to console the Hufflepuff ghost. There were other ghosts too, including spirits who didn't normally leave their usual haunts, like Moaning Myrtle and Timothy the Troll Teaser. Teddy was surprised to see Myrtle looking rather serious — and not the one crying, for once.

“What... what's wrong?” Teddy asked.

Nearly Headless Nick turned to him. “Those monsters killed one of the Hufflepuff children,” he said quietly.

The warmth that the tea had spread through his body was replaced by icewater.

“Who?” he choked.

The Fat Friar was having trouble speaking, but finally blubbered, “A- Alduin B-B-Beaux...jour!” And then he wept some more.

Teddy felt a flash of relief, instantly replaced by guilt. He barely even knew Alduin. Now he was dead, and Teddy was standing there feeling relieved because it wasn't Dewey or one of the other Hufflepuffs he actually liked. He hung his head.

“Is Teddy Lupin all right?” Golly wheezed, in her reedy voice.

Teddy shook his head, which made him dizzy. He swayed a moment, then he walked back into the Great Hall and found the helmet that had tumbled off his head while the elves were throwing him around, and put it on.

When he walked back out into the Entrance Hall and picked up the goblin spear he'd left lying by the entrance, the ghosts all looked at him. Nearly Headless Nick asked, “Teddy, what are you doing?”

“My other friends are still down there,” he said. “Hufflepuffs, and Gryffindors, and Ravenclaws, and Slytherins.”

The ghosts looked alarmed, and stood in his path to block the stairs. Golly dogged his heels, her eyes even wider than he would have thought possible.

“Teddy,” Nick said warningly. “Surely you are not contemplating what I think you are?”

“What else can I do, Nick?”

“Oh no,” said the Fat Friar, shaking his head. “Young man, this is folly, absolute folly!”

“Teddy, I am sorry, but as much as I admire your courage, I must put my foot down!” Nick stomped his ghostly foot against the floor, for emphasis, and without much effect. “I forbid this foolish venture on your part!”

Teddy looked at the Gryffindor house ghost. “With all due respect, Sir Nick, how are you going to stop me?” And he walked directly through the ghost. It sent chills through him, like a cold breeze blowing across every inch of his skin, but he ignored it.

Nick's head nearly fell off as he spun about and followed Teddy downstairs. “Mr. Lupin!” he exclaimed indignantly. The other ghosts floated after him, and then directly in front of him, giving him baleful, disapproving looks as they floated backwards, ahead of him, as he descended into the dungeons.

“Do you want to see any more dead kids?” Teddy asked.

He felt guilty when the Friar flinched, and the Gray Lady gave him a scathing look, and then the Hufflepuff ghost said, “I do not want you to join them!” More ghostly tears ran down his face.

“Teddy.” Nick frowned at him, pushing his head upright again. “What you have done already is remarkable. No one will think less of you for waiting until adults can take charge.”

“The adults haven't done such a brilliant job so far,” Teddy replied. He reached the lower level, and set off for the labyrinth, where he'd seen the goblins disappearing as if into a hole on the Marauder's Map. The ghosts preceded him, still arguing with him.

“Even Harry never did anything this foolish,” Nick objected.

“Harry Potter? Oh, yes he did!” piped up Moaning Myrtle enthusiastically.

“Myrtle, dear, please,” said Nick.

“Maybe not as a first-year,” Teddy agreed. “I think he waited until his second year before he started doing really foolish things.”

“If he were here now...”

“I know what he'd tell me to do, Nick.” They passed the stone wall where Teddy knew the entrance to the Slytherin common room was located. Normally it was invisible, but now there was water pouring out along the edges of the hidden door, and forming a very large puddle that was spreading across the dungeon floor.

“Oh, dear. The Bloody Baron isn't going to like this,” Myrtle cackled, with glee, darting through the door and back out again.

“Teddy, if I may point out the obvious, there is a very, very serious possibility of your dying, and believe me, as I am something of an expert on the subject, that's something you really should try to put off as long as possible!” Nick's head was wobbling in agitation.

Teddy sighed, as he sloshed along towards the hole blown in the floor. “Nick, I'm not trying to prove myself. I'm really not.” His head still hurt. He couldn't frame his thoughts properly, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was argue. “Look, I'm not going to try to fight goblins. I don't think I can rescue the hostages singlehandedly. But if I can find out where they are, and return, Harry and the Aurors might be able to rescue them.”

“If,” said the Gray Lady.

At the edge of the pit, he leaned over cautiously. He didn't see any goblins. Professor Binns was at the bottom of the pit, but rose quickly to floor level when he saw Teddy and the other ghosts. Teddy took a deep breath, and then once again morphed into a goblin.

“Remarkable!” said Professor Binns. Teddy wasn't sure if the ghostly professor was talking about his transformation, or the tunnel under the castle.

“Teddy Lupin is going... down there?” asked Golly, her voice even higher than usual.

He nodded.

“You don't even have a wand!” the Fat Friar pointed out.

“But,” said Golly, “he has a house-elf!”

Teddy looked down at the little elf. She looked up at him.

“Golly will go with Teddy Lupin,” she squeaked. “If Teddy Lupin wants Golly's help.”

He felt his heart swell, and he smiled. “I do. Thank you, Golly,” he whispered, and the elf smiled tremulously. “But,” he added, “you disappear if things go badly, understand?”

“Yes, that way she can tell the others where to find your body,” said Moaning Myrtle.

Teddy gave the weepy schoolgirl's ghost a sour look. Nearly Headless Nick, looking very unhappy, suggested, “I could accompany you also.”

“And do what, besides glow in the dark?” Teddy demanded. Nick looked hurt, and all of the ghosts looked offended. Teddy sighed. “I'm sorry. But I don't see how any of you can help me.”

There were a pair of ladders still propped against the edge of the pit, and Teddy grabbed hold of one.

“Wish me luck, Nick? And if Harry gets here, tell him what happened and... that I love him. And Grandma, and everyone else.”

“Good luck, Teddy,” Nick sighed.

“God be with you,” sighed the Fat Friar.

“If you die, I hope you join us,” said Moaning Myrtle. She clasped her hands together against her cheek and sighed. “You'd be the bravest ghost ever to haunt Hogwarts! And there aren't any other ghosts my age!”

“Myrtle,” said the Gray Lady, in an admonishing tone. She just shook her head at Teddy.

As he descended the ladder, Teddy felt his heart pounding in his chest. He knew everyone would say this was incredibly stupid, and they'd be right. But he really wasn't trying to prove anything. He just couldn't do nothing, if there was any chance he could save his friends.

The tunnel below was surprisingly, suspiciously, empty. The glowing sticks the goblins had left behind gave off an eerie light. Teddy grimaced, as the water pouring over the edge had turned the dirt at the bottom of the ladders into mud, squishing underfoot. As he stood up, he saw that just past where it would be visible from the edge of the pit above, the tunnel was barricaded by a wall of brown sacks, packed tightly together.

Frowning, Teddy advanced forward, and thrust his spear into one of the sacks. Golly, who had just hopped off the ladder, screamed, and covered her eyes.

The sack was made of paper, and it tore open easily, spilling a crumbly white powder. Teddy looked at Golly, and asked, “What's wrong?”

She spread her fingers, to peer out from between them.

“These has something in them, Teddy Lupin!” she wheezed. “Golly doesn't know what, but there is goblin magic on them! Golly thinks Teddy Lupin should not poke any more bags!”

He frowned at the brown sacks. “Well, how are we supposed to get through, then?” The ceiling wasn't that high, and he thought he could reach the sacks on top and begin pulling them down, but that would be tedious and exhausting. He was already tired, and he had no idea how thick the barricade was.

Golly wrung her hands. “Wait a moment, Teddy Lupin.” She disappeared with a crack. A moment later, she reappeared.

“Bags is only filling the tunnel a little way,” she said. “Golly can take Teddy Lupin to the other side.”

Teddy's eyes lit up. “Really? You can do Side-Along Apparition?”

“It might be... uncomfortable, Teddy Lupin.” Golly blinked slowly at him. “Elves is not used to carrying peoples when we disappears.”

“Oh. Right, that makes sense.” For Golly, carrying him when she Apparated would be like an adult wizard trying to do Side-Along Apparition with Hagrid as a passenger, he realized. No wonder you didn't hear about wizards using house-elves for transportation. He'd heard about something called “splinching” too. He hoped that didn't happen when house-elves Apparated.

“Well,” he sighed, “we don't have any other choice, do we?”

Golly shook her head. Teddy held out his hand, and the house-elf's thin stick-like fingers curled around his. He held his breath, and then it felt like he was being sucked through a straw, and that his insides were being squeezed out of him at both ends. The experience was mercifully brief, and then he was lying on his belly on the other side of the barricade.

“Uncomfortable,” he gasped. That was like calling a troll “unattractive.”

After a few moments of dry heaving, he lifted his head up, and saw that the tunnel remained dimly lit by those blue-white sticks, and was empty other than himself and Golly. The elf was still on her feet, but swaying a bit woozily. Teddy knew the feeling. He held out a hand to steady her.

“Thanks, Golly,” he said hoarsely. “Are you all right?”

The house-elf nodded. Teddy wasn't so sure, but he used the spear to brace himself as he stood. “Should've left that behind,” he thought guiltily. It had probably made it even harder for Golly to Apparate.

“Not much of a barricade,” he mumbled, looking at the wall of paper sacks that was now between them and the exit. “Do the goblins really think bags of dirt are going to stop the Aurors?”

The sacks had printing on them, he noticed. He leaned over and squinted, trying to read the unfamiliar words in the dim blue light. He wrinkled his nose, as he noticed that they gave off an unpleasant oily vapor.

“ANFO, twenty-five kilograms,” he read aloud. He looked at Golly, but she just blinked and shook her head.

“Huh,” he said, trying to guess what an ANFO was. There was smaller printing on the bags, but it was difficult to read, and he could hardly waste time. Well, whatever the goblins were up to, it couldn't be anything good. He stood up, hefted his spear, and began to walk down the tunnel, followed by the little house-elf.