Chapter 13 - 13

Chapter 13: On My Mind

Hogwarts, June 10th 1996

"No, no, Incarceration Jinx's counter-spell is the Revulsion Jinx," Hermione explains tensely to Parvati and Ernie, whom she has been arguing with while we've waited for the Defence Against the Dark Arts practical exam to start.

Ron gives me a look and we both decide to stay out of it, knowing it's easier that way. Since the OWLs started, Hermione has been lashing out on everyone who dares to question her knowledge, or somehow distract her revising routine.

Today's exam is actually the first one I'm positive I will pass. I'm also quite confident that everyone from the DA will have top marks on the practical DADA, since we've been practicing nearly the whole year behind Umbridge's back. I'd do almost anything to see her face after she finds out that most of her students are not in fact failing the practical part, even though she hasn't taught us anything useful.

We're nearly halfway through the OWLs after last week's Charms, Transfiguration and Herbology exams, and I can't wait for them to end. Because that means summer holidays and I'll finally get away from Umbridge. I'll finally see Sirius…And I'll see Regulus as well. My stomach clenches with anticipation, and I know it has nothing to do with the upcoming exam. I have had a long time to think it over, and I know there's something lingering between us. Something I intend to find out about.

"Some of us don't need to worry about the sort, Granger. In fact, when you know the right people, you don't have to worry about anything. But of course, you wouldn't know about that, since you didn't even know magic existed before you came here," Malfoy drawls behind us, his cronies sniggering stupidly next to him.

Hermione's cheeks redden as she turns towards Malfoy, her eyes narrowing at him.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Ron and I both say wearily.

Hermione lifts her chin proudly. "At least some of us don't need the right connections to pass our exams. We do it simply by talent, Malfoy," She says sweetly, and turns away from him.

Malfoy splutters as Ron and I, and several others around us chuckle at his expense.

"…You filthy little – "

"Something the matter, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall's sharp voice demands behind us.

Ron and I share a smirk while Malfoy clenches his jaw, grumbling something under his breath.

"Didn't think so," McGonagall continues and turns to eye the fifth-year students gathered in the Entrance Hall. "Now, everything is ready for your practical exam. The first group of students will be called in shortly. I suggest you all focus on the upcoming exam, instead of nonsensical fuss," She says with a stern look before continuing her way on the hallway.

Forty minutes later, and twenty minutes after Hermione has entered the Great Hall with Anthony Goldstein, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass, my name is called.

I step inside after Ron giving me a supportive pat on the back and whispering an encouragement, "you'll be brilliant, mate."

I'm facing Professor Tofty again, and I'm a bit more relaxed now, since he doesn't feel like a complete stranger anymore. I perform all the counter-jinxes and defensive spells with ease and Tofty's eyes shine with delight.

"Bravo, Mr. Potter!" He exclaims after I demonstrate a faultless Boggart banishing spell. "…I wonder…"

I lift my brows at him quizzically. "Yes?" I thought that was all the exam required.

Tofty glances around us before he speaks. "I've heard rumours that you have mastered a Patronus Charm already, even though it is a NEWT level charm," he says conspiratorially, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"Oh." I say, a bit surprised. "Well, yes, sir. I guess I have…" I say hesitantly.

Tofty grins. "Brilliant, indeed. And, well…I might be able to give you a bonus point for showing me, if you don't mind, Mr. Potter," He says eagerly.

I grin at him. "Certainly, sir." I say and my eyes flicker towards Umbridge. Picturing how she would look like being sacked, I raise my wand and say, "Expecto patronum!"

The familiar silver stag bursts from the tip of my wand, and gallops across the hall. Everyone turns to look at the Patronus and then me, most of them with awed expressions. All except Malfoy and Umbridge, of course. I stifle a laugh and turn back to Tofty.

"Marvellous, Mr. Potter! Simply brilliant!" He says excitedly. "You may go now," He says with a wide smile.

As I pass Umbridge and take in the smug look on her face, I can't help but smirk at her widely.

Hogwarts, June 17th 1996 (Monday)

I'm sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, my eyelids slowly dragging down on their own accord.

"Mate, you need to brighten up. It's our last exam, and after that, freedom," Ron says encouragingly, shoving me lightly with his elbow.

I let out a grunt in reply and take the cup of coffee he offers me. "Didn't exactly sleep last night, not after what happened," I mutter and take a sip. I don't actually enjoy coffee, but I reckon it is what I need right now.

"Yeah, that was a bloody spectacle. I wonder if Hagrid's okay…And where has he gone to…? And what about McGonagall…She isn't exactly young anymore, and taking four stunners on the chest like that, who knows how long will it take for her to recover," He says worriedly while loading his plate.

Hermione narrows her eyes across from us. "Umbridge shouldn't have done that. Who knows what damage she has done to Professor McGonagall…?" She says furiously.

Last night was our Astronomy practical exam, and it was bad enough that it had taken place on a Sunday night – apparently the sky hadn't been clear enough on Friday night – but Umbridge had decided to accost Hagrid in the middle of our exam. Umbridge's intentions to banish Hagrid became clear when she and a five Aurors, at least by the looks of them, started firing spells at him. Thanks to Hagrid's thick skin, the curses bounced off of him, but left McGonagall – who had come down to stop the conflict – unconscious on the grounds, after having four stunners fired straight at her.

I don't exactly have high hopes for getting an OWL from Astronomy, but that's not bothering me the slightest. After the exam, most of us Gryffindors stayed up in our common room to discuss and speculate the happenings of that night, cursing Umbridge and plotting her downfall until the early hours of the next day. I have never hated the woman more than I do know. I don't even know what would be the suitable punishment for her, after all she's done. Although, I have to say, Ron's suggestion of feeding her to a box of starving Blast-Ended Skrewts seemed reasonable.

My last exam, History of Magic, is scheduled to start after lunch, so there really isn't time for a nap, even though it could probably only help me focus in the exam. I spend the morning and midday revising with Ron and Hermione in the library, trying not to fall asleep as I read the dull text about the Gargoyle Strike of 1911.

After lunch, we're back in the Entrance Hall, waiting for the tables to be cleared before we can take our seats in the Great Hall. As soon as I've sat down and faced my examination paper, I feel exhaustion taking over me. I know I need to focus. This is the last exam, and then we're free, as Ron put it. My eyes keep trailing to the windows, over the light-soaked grounds, over the Great Lake.

"You may turn over your papers," Professor Marchbanks calls from the front of the Hall, turning over the giant hour-glass. "The exam begins."

I turn over my paper and stare blankly at the questions. It seems that everything I've revised, every bit of Elfric the Eager and Egbert the Egregious I remembered yesterday, has somehow flown out of my mind. I curse inwardly and skip a couple of questions until I find something I actually can answer. I quickly start to scribble my answers, likely getting the names and years wrong. My brain feels fuzzy and slack. I remember reading about Goblin Rebellions just before lunch. Why can't I remember the details about how they began?

I'm distracted and realise I've been staring at Parvati in front of me for some time. Shit…Everyone around me is scrawling to their parchments furiously, their heads bent towards their tables. I close my eyes for a moment, trying to remember the details about the trolls that had caused the breach between Pierre Bonaccord and Liechtenstein…trying to remember how Goblins had tried to attend and had been ousted from the meeting…trying to ignore the quills scratching everywhere…trying to ignore the sound from the hour-glass, where the sand is trickling through noisily…

I'm suddenly in the corridor of the Department of Mysteries. It is dark, and I can barely see around me. I try to run forward, along the hallway but it seems like ages before I reach my destination…

The black door swings open as soon as I step before it, and I walk through it, into the circular room with several doors…

I feel the need to rush forward, towards the second door…I walk hurriedly, ignoring the odd mechanical clicking noise, towards the third door…

I'm finally in the room, larger than the Great Hall in Hogwarts, larger than the Ministry Atrium, filled with shelves and glass spheres from floor to ceiling…I need to get there in time, I need to see…I have to succeed this time…

I run towards the number ninety-seven and turn left after reaching it. I hurry along the corridor between the tall shelves. In the end of the corridor, there's a shape, lying on the floor.

As I reach the shape – a man – I lift my hand and cast a Cruciatus Curse, feeling thrilled by the power, by triumph…The man screams in pain, trashing on the ground, and I let out a high-pitched laugh before lifting the curse.

"Lord Voldemort is waiting," I say silkily, my white hand clutching my wand, the next curse ready to burst out.

The man lifts his head slowly, his face bloody and twisted with pain, but still a defiant look in his grey eyes. "You'll have to kill me," Sirius gasps, gritting his teeth.

I let out another cold laugh. "Undoubtedly I shall, in the end," I say darkly. "But you will fetch it for me first, Black…you think you have felt pain thus far? Think again…we have hours ahead of us and nobody to hear you scream…"

I scream as my godfather starts to scream again in agony, the scene ahead dissolving and changing...

And then I'm back in the Great Hall, lying on the stone floor, panting as if I've run a marathon, my scar on fire, and every eye fixated on me.

"No, I don't need to go to the Hospital wing, really. I'm fine, sir," I try to explain to Professor Marchbanks.

He eventually lets me go, thinking I have examination pressure, or something of the sort. He suggests that I lie down, but as soon as I'm left alone in the Entrance Hall, I decide to hurry to the Hospital wing, after all. I need to see McGonagall.

A moment later, I barrel through the Hospital wing doors and then learn that McGonagall was transferred to St Mungo's this morning.

Fuck!

I run away, determined to find Ron and Hermione. We need to do something. We need to save Sirius. He has him. Voldemort has Sirius…

As soon as I find my friends, I quickly tell them what I saw. Both Hermione and Ron are shocked by the news, and I can hear my voice shaking as I speak. Sirius…I'm feeling anxious and terrified. I have to get to him. I need to get to him…But how are we going to get to the Department of Mysteries?

I realise I've asked the question out loud as Ron stammers, "G-Get there?"

"Yes, we need to get going right now! He'll kill him, Ron! He'll kill Sirius!" I say urgently, fear gripping my stomach.

"…But…Harry…" Ron says weakly.

"What? What?" I ask, beginning to feel frustrated. Don't they realise Sirius is in danger? Don't they realise he's being tortured? That he might be killed?

Hermione worries her lip before she speaks. "Harry…How would Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anyone realising he was there?" She asks carefully.

"I don't know, Hermione!" I yell. "What we need to figure out is how to get there, don't you see?" I say imploringly.

Hermione swallows hard. "But Harry…Think about it…it's five o'clock in the afternoon, and the Ministry of Magic must be full of workers. How would Voldemort and Sirius have got in without being seen? They're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world. How could they have entered without Aurors noticing?"

I let out a frustrated growl. "I don't know! Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" I shout at her. "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been – "

"You've never been there, Harry," Hermione mutters quietly. "You've dreamed about the place, that's all."

I feel a cold surge of rage go through me. "They're not normal dreams! How do you explain Ron's dad?" I yell at her, not feeling bad at all when she cringes slightly.

Ron clears his throat awkwardly. "Harry's got a point," He mutters, giving Hermione a tentative look.

Hermione chews the inside of her cheek in thought. "But…It just sounds so…unlikely, Harry. How could Voldemort have Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place? We would know about it, surely, by now. His brother would've informed the Order," Hermione says insistently.

We continue arguing, and I'm starting to feel desperate. Every minute passing is more torture for my godfather. The door to the empty classroom we are situated in opens abruptly and Ginny and Luna slip inside, worried looks on their faces.

I need to do something, and even though Hermione has a point – that Voldemort might be doing this only to lure me in to the Department of Mysteries, how could I not go? He's the only family I've got.

I tell her that, and Hermione's eyes glitter with tears. "Okay. Okay," She says placatingly, worrying her lip. "But first, we need to make sure that Voldemort is not planting these visions in your head."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" I ask bitterly.

Hermione's brow furrows for a moment before she speaks. "We'll have to use Umbridge's fire and see if we can contact him," She says, looking terrified by the thought.

"Luna and I can draw Umbridge away again, Harry," Ginny says with a determined look, while Luna nods slowly, a soft smile on her lips.

I let out a weary sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose under my glasses. "Okay, fine. But if he's not there, I'm going to the Ministry."

Hermione starts to form a plan for us, pacing between the desks while the others suggest whatever they can think of. Ten minutes later, the plan is set in motion. While the others go to guard the hallways and distract Umbridge, Hermione and I slip under the Invisibility Cloak and make our way towards Umbridge's office. We make it inside without problems, and I quickly toss the Cloak away and throw myself in front of the empty grate, grabbing a handful of floo powder before throwing it into logs stacked neatly in the fireplace.

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" I say hastily, and stick my head into the green flames. Images of different fireplaces start to whirl in front of my eyes, and I screw my eyes shut to ease the spinning of my head until I feel it slowing down, and then the empty kitchen of Grimmauld Place appears in front of me.

"Sirius!" I shout, trying to listen carefully for any noises. The place is eerily quiet. No one is there. "Sirius! Are you there?!" I yell again, but no one answers.

I start to panic, and call Sirius again, then Regulus, and also Kreacher, over and over again. No one answers.

"Shit…" I mutter, and I'm about to shout again, but just as I've opened my mouth, I feel a sharp pain in my scalp. I'm being pulled backwards from the fireplace so abruptly that I manage to inhale a mouthful of ash. As I cough violently and blink my eyes, Umbridge's toad-like face comes into my view.

No…

"You think I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand," She says menacingly to someone as she tightens her grip in my hair.

My eyes begin to water from the burning feeling on the top of my head, and I feel someone wring my wand away from my grip. Then Umbridge drags me upwards and I scramble into a kneeling position, noticing Malfoy; leaning against the window and twirling my wand between his fingers, a smug smirk plastered on his face and Bulstrode; who is pinning Hermione against the wall, her large forearm pressing at Hermione's windpipe. Then the door opens and Grabbe and Warrington push forward gagged and tied Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville.

"Got 'em all," Warrington says with a satisfied grin as he shoves Ron roughly forward.

Umbridge must be pleased, even though I can't see her face. I can only feel the tight grip of her stubby fingers against my scalp and her thick wand pressing to my neck as she stands behind me, eyeing the others. "Good, good. Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?" She says sweetly, giggling slightly afterwards. I try to swallow the bile that threatens to rise in my throat. Merlin, I hate her. I really, really hate her.

She summons Snape after assuming I was trying to contact Dumbledore through her fireplace, and that I'm in a dire need of a couple of drops of Veritaserum. Snape enters some time later, not even blinking at the sight of us, or the Headmistress assaulting her students. He is dismissed right after Umbridge finds out he hasn't got any Veritaserum, since Umbridge has used every single drop of it. Before Snape steps out of the room, I desperately try to tell him that Sirius is in danger, but the man merely sneers at me and leaves.

No, no, no…He was my last hope…

Umbridge is left in a raged state, and she comes to the conclusion that I'm ought to be punished – with the Cruciatus Curse. I can only stare at her with a mix of defiance and disbelief, but it is Hermione who stops her ministrations right before the curse is uttered. She makes up a plan as she goes, one that leads up to Hermione and I walking towards the Forbidden Forest, while Umbridge trails behind us, her wand at the ready.

Grimmauld Place, June 17th 1996

My brother and I have been practicing duelling again in the library. We've put up our usual silencing charms over the room in order to keep our mother's portrait from screaming her head off to the slightest of voices that carry downstairs. Even though we've set up a couple of protection charms on the shelves surrounding us, we still manage to make some damage during our little spar, causing Kreacher to hastily collect the ancient books into safety. After the healthy match, the elf sullenly starts to clean our mess, ordering my brother to help him. I laugh at Sirius's incredulous expression and leave the room.

I'm on my way downstairs when a muffled voice carries to the staircase. "Hello? …I'm not getting any younger here…"

I pause in mid-stride and look back at the room next to the library, where I know the portrait of my ancestor, Phineas Nigellus is situated. Realisation hits me.

"Brother!" I yell and make my way back to the second-floor landing, entering the room where I find a bored looking former Headmaster of Hogwarts, yawning in his portrait.

I stare at him expectantly, and he huffs. "It's about time…" he drawls.

"Well?" I ask plainly, not in the mood for his attitude.

His lips curl into a sneer. "And where is the other you? Your worse half?" He asks airily.

I suppress an eye-roll and send a messenger Patronus to my brother. "He'll be in a minute. What is it about?" I ask primly.

Phineas yawns and eyes his fingernails. "Oh, something about that Potter boy being touched in the head, I presume…"

I arch a brow at him as my brother barges in the room.

"What is it?" Sirius asks demandingly, staring at Phineas with an alerted look in his eyes.

"Professor Snape is involuntarily asking for your well-being, Mr. Black." Phineas says to Sirius, a gleeful look in his eyes.

Sirius stares at the portrait with incredulity. "What?"

Phineas sighs dramatically. He really seems to enjoy this shit. "I'm merely forwarding a message."

"Well then, do it already," Sirius barks.

Phineas scoffs. "I have no idea how you managed to outlive all the other Blacks, when it is apparent you are the least suitable heir to our ancient and most noble house." He spats.

I groan inwardly. "Phineas." I mutter and give my brother a warning look before he ends up throwing something at the portrait. "Would it be possible for you to deliver the message to us?" I say through gritted teeth, trying to sound calm.

Phineas considers me for a moment before he nods. "Mr. Potter thinks your brother is in the Ministry. That he is in danger." He blankly says, and then turns to look at my brother.

What the fuck? Why would Potter think that? Has he seen something? I share a dubious look with my brother.

"Professor Snape is inquiring if you are indeed sitting comfortably within the confines of your home, still letting others do the heavy lifting?" Phineas asks from Sirius, a small smirk curving his lips.

Sirius seethes.

"Sirius," I say with a low voice.

My brother scoffs before he speaks. "By all means, tell Snivellus that I'm in very good health, in my manor, comfortably sitting on my arse and playing with my galleons," Sirius says nastily, and Phineas actually snorts a bit as he nods at my brother.

"And tell Snape to pass the information to Harry," my brother continues before Phineas leaves the painting.

I turn to look at my brother and the confusion I'm feeling is mirrored in his expression.

"You reckon Harry's seen something?" Sirius asks with worry apparent in his voice.

I let out a weary sigh. "Probably. If he thinks you're in the Ministry, then the Dark Lord is most likely trying to lure him in there…" I mutter, my mind whirling from the news.

"Shit…" Sirius grunts, shoving his hands through his shaggy hair.

"You should contact the others," I say grimly and stay in the room as Sirius makes his way downstairs to make the floo-calls.

Phineas doesn't return and after a while, I leave the room to clean myself up. An hour or so later I exit my room in order to find my brother. He's deep in conversation with Lupin, both men looking troubled as they sit in the kitchen. My brother's clutching a small mirror between his hands. I know what it is. It's part of a two-way mirror, probably the same one my brother and I used as children. Only now Potter supposedly has the counterpart.

It's over nine in the evening, and I realise I haven't eaten since lunch because of the disruption after our duelling practice. I ask Kreacher to prepare us something and sit down at the table next to my brother.

"What's going on?" I ask as I study my brother's features. He looks worried. Anxious.

Sirius shakes his head slightly as he gnaws the side of his cheek, his eyes fixed to the table.

Lupin clears his throat. "Sirius hasn't been able to contact Harry. We just wanted to make sure he knows Sirius is safely at home, so that he wouldn't do anything irrational. Unfortunately, there is no way to contact anyone at the school."

I arch a brow at him. "What about the portrait?"

Sirius shakes his head again. "No use. We already tried it. Phineas said the Headmaster's office is empty," He grunts.

I nod slowly. "If Snape informed Potter where you are, then I'm sure there's no need to get in a flap about it," I say calmly, even though I feel anything but.

Sirius sighs and threads a hand through his hair. "I really fucking hope so…"

We stay silent for a long while, and eventually Lupin leaves back to his place while my brother and I head upstairs and go to sleep.