Chapter 56

After the meeting at which Harry pointed out to Ernie the error of his ways, Harry made a practice of using the prefects' rooms for strategy sessions, secret meetings and dueling practice. Useful as the rooms were for Harry's purposes, they could also be used by the prefects who were not members of their group, along with the head boy and head girl. There was always the chance that Goldstein or Abbot or any of the other prefects might try to gain access to the rooms when Harry and his friends were using them. And then there were the Slytherin prefects, Draco and Parkinson. Hermione had come up with a simple method of preventing interruptions, cursing the doorknob to the entrance so that anyone trying to turn it would be Confunded.

"The doorknob's all set now," said Hermione, shutting the door to the prefect's office behind her and marking the commencement of yet another meeting of Harry's group. All twelve of his friends were present, including Ernie. The Hufflepuff had been held in contempt by the rest of Harry's friends, but had redeemed himself to some extent by convincing his Death Eater handlers to send him a lock of Bellatrix's hair. Without Ernie's help, the Hufflepuff Horcrux would not have been destroyed. For this reason, some of the other members now deigned to speak to him, but Ernie still had a lot of making up to do.

"There's only one Horcrux left," said Harry once everyone was seated in the prefects' boardroom. "Nagini. And even if we could get to her, we couldn't kill her. If we did, Voldemort might make another Horcrux to replace her, and we wouldn't know where to find it. So we have to try to kill Nagini just before we kill Voldemort. We have to make sure that Voldemort brings Nagini with him to the Ministry next month. And there's only one person here who can do that for us, right Ernie?"

"Yes, it's probably me," replied Ernie. "And we'll have to handle this the same way we got him to send us Bellatrix's hair. Only we won't know if it works until we actually show up at the Ministry. But how am I going to tell Voldemort to bring his snake with him?"

"Don't tell him," said Hermione. "Don't even mention Nagini. You need to get Voldemort to think of it himself. Maybe what you should do is mention in your next report that Harry's developed a real fear of snakes, and is having nightmares about them. That the mere sight of a snake practically paralyzes him. That might work, or it might not. But if you just write to him and say, 'By the way, do bring Nagini with you to the Department of Mysteries, ' I think he might suspect something."

"You've got that right, Hermione," said Harry. "You and Ernie work together after the meeting about the wording Ernie should use in his next report, and let me know what you come up with. Now for the next item on the agenda. Our inability to track Draco. We've been at this for five months now, and we've had very little success. Marietta, fill us in on the latest."

"It was near the end of my shift with the map, around eight last night. And I saw what Imogen saw a while back: 'D. Malfoy'. So I threw on Harry's invisibility cloak, and taking the map with me, I went to investigate. By the time I caught up with him, he was in the corridor leading to the teachers' quarters. I could see his dot on the map, but I couldn't see him. Which could only mean--"

"He was using the Asturias potion," said Ron.

"Yes," said Marietta. "And it was starting to wear off. But what I saw wasn't Draco. The same blond hair, and almost the same height, but not Draco. It was a girl, and she reminded me a bit of Luna. In fact, I called out to her thinking at first that it was her, but when she turned to face me, I realized it wasn't Luna. And my calling to her really spooked whoever it was. And then she dashed into the teachers' quarters. So I followed her."

"Well done!" said Ron, always enthusiastic about any tale involving breaking a rule.

"Not that it did me any good," continued Marietta. "When I entered the corridor, I couldn't see her, Draco, or anyone else: the corridor was empty. I followed it until it opened up onto a hallway, and found I was back to where I started."

"The passage must be charmed, of course," said Hermione. "That's probably why the teachers never bothered to forbid anyone from going in. If you go in when you're not supposed to, all that happens is that you get turned around and you wind up back where you started."

"Well, that's what happened in my case," said Marietta. "But what this means is that Draco obviously has permission to go in the teachers' quarters, and this girl, whoever she is, has permission too."

"Would someone please explain to me how this Draco became such a teacher's pet," said Ron. "Hagrid likes him. McGonagall loves him. He's a star in potions now, not in Neville's class or Hermione's, but pretty close. But we all know he's up to no good. And he of all people is allowed into the teachers' area? Whatever for?"

"Good question, Ron," replied Harry, "but an even better one is, who is this girl that Marietta saw wandering around? You and I saw her, I think, a while back, but I thought nothing of it at the time. You remember--it was right after our first lesson with Flitwick where he was teaching us the wand sinister."

"Yeah! You're right," said Ron, who then gave everyone an account of the odd encounter. Imogen was outraged.

"And you didn't tell anyone about this? There's a girl wandering around, an upper-year girl that you've never seen before, who's allowed into the teacher's private quarters, and it never occurred to you to mention her to anyone?" Ron looked down, red-faced, unable to defend himself from Imogen's attack. She turned on Harry next.

"And how about you? What's your excuse?"

"Just forgot about her, that's all," mumbled Harry, not knowing what to say.

It was fortunate for Harry and Ron that it was Imogen who attacked them. Hermione immediately came to Ron's defence, and then Ginny rescued Harry.

"Harry's got a lot on his mind, Imogen," said Ginny. "Don't be so hard on him. At least he and Ron remembered seeing the girl now that Marietta has reminded them."

Imogen pretended she was satisfied with this explanation, and listened as Harry launched into his latest plan for keeping an eye on Malfoy.

"From now on, all of us should keep a supply of Asturias potion with us at all times. If any of us see Draco in the corridors or on the grounds, start following him, and if necessary, drink the Asturias to keep yourself hidden as long as possible. I don't know if this will do any good, but we might get lucky and actually learn something."

Harry turned to Neville.

"Can you keep us all supplied with the Asturias potion?"

"No problem. I'll whip up a batch tonight and give it out to everyone at breakfast tomorrow."

"And how's the Felix Felicitas potion going?"

Over the last few months the cascade Imogen had helped Neville set up had been bubbling away, the golden liquid moving gradually and automatically from one cauldron to the next thanks to Imogen's clever use of the Turing charm.

"It's very exciting," said Neville. "The potion just reached the end of the cascade the other day. From now on, each day the cascade will produce a small dose of the Felicitas, enough for an hour or two of luck. Enough for all of us to take a dose or two just before things get going at the Ministry."

True to his word, the next morning Neville brought thirteen small vials of the Asturias potion with him to breakfast, and now, as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Imogen made their way back from the grounds to the school for Potions class, each of them had their potion handy so that they could follow Draco after Potions if the opportunity arose. It was a glorious May morning and none of them felt like attending class in the dark depths of the school, not when a warm sun shone in a cloudless sky, the trees everywhere in full leaf. But attend they must, and the four friends joined the rest of the students rushing back to the school after the break and heading for their second class of the day.

"Do hurry, Ron," said Hermione as she rushed for the front doors, Ron lagging behind her.

"I'd be able to keep up with you if I weren't carrying your book bag as well as mine," said Ron. At least that was the reply in his mind, the words themselves remaining unspoken. Ron had learned that it was best not to reply to Hermione when she made comments of this sort. He'd always wondered why his father put up with his mom's abuse. Now he knew why. He struggled to get a better grip on Hermione's over-sized book bag, heavy and crammed full of her regular textbooks as well as her extra reading, and ran to catch up.

Most students arrived a little early for Potions. Although Snape had mellowed considerably - indeed, was almost a different person - since the start of the school year, in some respects he had not changed at all. Any student arriving late for Snape's class could expect detention, loss of house points and some rather pointed professorial mockery. At the front of the line was Neville, always keen for Potions, a class that now vied with Herbology as his favourite. At the very end was Ron, struggling with his book bag and Hermione's. And ahead of Ron and Hermione was Draco. He was unaccompanied by any of his fellow Sytherins, his face buried in a history textbook.

"I'll take my book bag back now, Ron. Thanks for carrying it," said Hermione. Ron shifted the strap from his shoulder, the strain showing in his face as the full weight was transferred to his hand.

"That's really heavy. How many books do you have in there, anyways?"

"Lots. It's way too heavy for me. Wingardium Leviosa."

Immediately Ron felt the weight leave the bag. He passed it to Hermione without any difficulty.

"Oi! Why'd you make me carry the bag?"

"Oi! Why didn't you lighten it the way I just did? Your arm must be ready to fall off. I charmed the bag so it would hold lots more books. It's got all my textbooks, plus another dozen or so from the library. Must have fifty pounds of books in it, if not more."

"Really? Let me see!"

Hermione opened her book bag, but before Ron could look in, she whirled around.

"Too slow."

Ron leaned forward, trying to look inside the bag, but again Hermione was too fast for him, spinning away and laughing, for inside were, in addition to her books, the heavy iron weights she'd put there that morning just prior to giving her bag to Ron to carry all day. But she spun too quickly, and a couple of books flew out, one of which struck Draco before it fell to the ground. Draco continued to read his history text as he knelt down and picked up Hermione's book.

"Don't you touch that!"

Only seconds before Ron had been having fun with Hermione, but the sight of one of her books in Draco's hands instantly enraged him. Perhaps he was remembering how in second year, his sister had almost died as a result of a book handed to her by Draco's father.

Draco looked up from his history book, surprise written all over his face.

"Sure. I was just picking it up for her." Draco moved around Ron to hand the book back to Hermione, but didn't make it. Ron smashed the book out of his hands.

"I said, don't you touch that!"

Draco looked Ron up and down.

"Alright," said Draco, his voice filled with a full patrician inflection. " You pick it up for her then."

But Ron did not want to bend down at Draco's feet to retrieve the book. He drew his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa"

The book rose a few inches off the floor, then fell back. Ron pronounced the charm again, louder this time. The book rose almost a foot, then dropped to the floor with a loud clap.

"Are you quite sure you don't want me to pick it up for you? You seem to be having difficulty." Draco's tone and expression were devoid of mockery, but Ron felt himself redden nonetheless.

"Ron, can't you see what he's doing?" said Hermione. "He's been using the counter-charm to stop you from lifting up my book."

Ron's gaze moved from the book to Draco's wand hand and then to the boy's face.

"You know something? Hermione might be right," said Draco as he pocketed his wand. "Why don't you try again?"

"And why don't you shut your gob," said Ron, giving Draco a shove. It was not a hard push, but Draco had not been expecting it and he was caught off balance. He stumbled backwards. He might have righted himself, but he tripped over the feet of the student next to him. Hermione and Ron laughed as Draco fell backwards. They did not see that as Draco fell he struck his head heavily against the brick wall behind him. They watched as Draco's knees buckled and he dropped to the floor.

"Mr. Weasley! Stop that this instant!" Snape, turning the corridor, had not seen the push that felled Draco. He had not needed to. Seeing the students nearest the fallen boy, Snape knew that Ron was the obvious suspect. Snape rushed to Draco's side.

"He's just faking again, just like in third year with the Hippogriff 'attack'," whispered Hermione. "You hardly touched him."

Ron wasn't so sure. If Draco was acting, it was a rather good performance.

"Yeah, I know, but -"

"Silence!" hissed Snape. "Draco, are you alright?"

Draco slowly raised his head, the muscles of his face twitching.

"I think so," he said, and then lost consciousness.

"A basal skull fracture is not a trivial injury," said Madam Pomfrey, standing over the still-unconscious Draco in her infirmary, Snape and McGonagall at her side. "The twitching facial muscles is a sign that the cranial nerve was affected by the fracture. Note the bruising around the eyes as well."

"I didn't see Weasley punch him," said Snape. "But he must have done, to give Draco a pair of black eyes like that. The worst I've ever seen."

"The black eyes are caused by internal bleeding from the fracture. It's a bad sign."

"How long before he recovers, and can tell us what happened?" asked McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey ushered them away from Draco's bedside before replying.

"I'm afraid it's not a question of when. It's a question of whether he will recover at all. My examination revealed that this is the third skull injury he's had in less than a year. The first was around the same spot, not severe, and apparently it healed of its own without any intervention, at least none on my part. He suffered another skull injury, on the top of his head, within the last six months, a very serious one. And the treatment was very odd, not magical at all. I suspect he was healed by a Muggle surgeon. And the latest injury is by far the worst of the three."

"Could you not apparate him to St. Mungo's?" asked McGonagall.

"If he were at St. Mungo's now, they would be calling upon me to help save him," replied Pomfrey. "St. Mungo's is an excellent facility, but that does not mean that all of the best healers want to practice there."

"I beg your pardon. I meant no offence," said McGonagall.

"None taken. I will continue to care for him here. He will have to be under constant watch. I need some reliable students to keep an eye on him at all times, and to summon me the moment they detect the slightest change. Whom do you recommend for this?"

"Hermione Granger. Harry Potter. Neville Longbottom. And last if not least, Ronald Weasley."

"But isn't the Weasley boy the one responsible for inflicting this terrible injury?"

"Yes, he is," said McGonagall. "And I do not intend to spare him in the slightest from the guilt he should justly feel. Severus, whom from your house would you have take turns in watching over Draco?"

Snape frowned. There was a long pause.

"A few months ago that would have been an easy question. But Draco is not very popular in his own house any more. Not quite the thing, it seems, since his father disowned him and he left the Quidditch team. I'd trust Montague, and Nott as well. But no one else."

"Then I ask both of you to have these students see me immediately, so that I can tell them what I expect of them," said the healer.

There was a knock at the infirmary door. Montague entered without waiting for permission.

"I was just about to summon you," said Snape.

"Professor, a note for you. Urgent."

The news of Skeeter's capture by Death Eaters had been slow reaching Snape. Hermione and her friends had seen no need to tell Snape, nor had McGonagall, for they knew nothing of the connection between the potions master and the wandless writer. The news of Skeeter's disappearance had not made the Daily Prophet, for that newspaper had long since lost its independence and in accordance with a Ministerial decree, had ceased publishing news of wrongdoings by Voldemort's gang. Thus the note Snape had received, days after the event, was the first he heard, and the source was Mrs. Granger, telling him what she had seen and had later learned from her daughter.

Snape appeared on the shore across from Castle Stalker, the muted popping noise of his apparation heard by no one. Spring had come, but the nights were still cold, and Snape could see his breath as he stepped into the boat which was to bear him across the water to the castle. Snape worked hard to compose and compartmentalize his mind in preparation for his meeting with Voldemort's followers. The Dark Lord himself was not to be in attendance, but Bellatrix might be there, and there were others who might see past Snape's defences if he were not careful. The Death Eaters met regularly in the last week of each month, and tonight's meeting was the last before the expected battle with Harry and his followers. Snape put into a distant part of his mind his swirling thoughts about how to rescue Rita. Although retrieving Rita was what mattered most to him, he had to banish the thought from the forefront of his mind in order to keep it hidden from the others. Once the meeting was done and after most of Voldemort's followers had departed the castle, it would be time to act. Until then, Snape would have to govern his thoughts with the utmost care.