Dolores Umbridge 37 страница

Yes, Harry thought, Tom Riddle would certainly have understood Helena Ravenclaw’s desire to possess fabulous objects to which she had little right.

“Well, you weren’t the first person Riddle wormed things out of, ” Harry muttered. “He could be charming when he wanted. . . . ” So Voldemort had managed to wheedle the location of the lost diadem out of the Gray Lady. He had traveled to that far-flung forest and retrieved the diadem from its hiding place, perhaps as soon as he left Hogwarts, before he even started work at Borgin and Burkes.

And wouldn’t those secluded Albanian woods have seemed an excellent refuge when, so much later, Voldemort had needed a place to lie low, undisturbed, for ten long years?

But the diadem, once it became his precious Horcrux, had not

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been left in that lowly tree. . . . No, the diadem had been returned secretly to its true home, and Voldemort must have put it there — “— the night he asked for a job! ” said Harry, finishing his thought.

“I beg your pardon? ”

“He hid the diadem in the castle, the night he asked Dumble- dore to let him teach! ” said Harry. Saying it out loud enabled him to make sense of it all. “He must’ve hidden the diadem on his way up to, or down from, Dumbledore’s office! But it was still worth trying to get the job — then he might’ve got the chance to nick Gryffindor’s sword as well — thank you, thanks! ”

Harry left her floating there, looking utterly bewildered. As he rounded the corner back into the entrance hall, he checked his watch.

It was five minutes until midnight, and though he now knew what the

last Horcrux was, he was no closer to discovering where it was. . . .

Generations of students had failed to find the diadem; that sug- gested that it was not in Ravenclaw Tower — but if not there, where? What hiding place had Tom Riddle discovered inside Hogwarts Castle, that he believed would remain secret forever?

Lost in desperate speculation, Harry turned a corner, but he had taken only a few steps down the new corridor when the window to his left broke open with a deafening, shattering crash. As he leapt aside, a gigantic body flew in through the window and hit the op- posite wall. Something large and furry detached itself, whimpering, from the new arrival and flung itself at Harry.

“Hagrid! ” Harry bellowed, fighting off Fang the boarhound’s attentions as the enormous bearded figure clambered to his feet. “What the —? ”

“Harry, yer here! Yer here! ”

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Hagrid stooped down, bestowed upon Harry a cursory and rib- cracking hug, then ran back to the shattered window.

“Good boy, Grawpy! ” he bellowed through the hole in the win- dow. “I’ll see yer in a moment, there’s a good lad! ”

Beyond Hagrid, out in the dark night, Harry saw bursts of light in the distance and heard a weird, keening scream. He looked down at his watch: It was midnight. The battle had begun.

“Blimey, Harry, ” panted Hagrid, “this is it, eh? Time ter fight? ” “Hagrid, where have you come from? ”

“Heard You-Know-Who from up in our cave, ” said Hagrid grimly. “Voice carried, didn’ it? ‘Yeh got till midnight ter gimme Potter. ’ Knew yeh mus’ be here, knew what mus’ be happenin’.

Get down, Fang. So we come ter join in, me an’ Grawpy an’ Fang.

Smashed our way through the boundary by the forest, Grawpy was carryin’ us, Fang an’ me. Told him ter let me down at the castle, so he shoved me through the window, bless him. Not exac’ly what I meant, bu’ — where’s Ron an’ Hermione? ”

“That, ” said Harry, “is a really good question. Come on. ” They hurried together along the corridor, Fang lolloping beside them. Harry could hear movement through the corridors all around: running footsteps, shouts; through the windows, he could see more flashes of light in the dark grounds.

“Where’re we goin’? ” puffed Hagrid, pounding along at Harry’s heels, making the floorboards quake.

“I dunno exactly, ” said Harry, making another random turn, “but Ron and Hermione must be around here somewhere. . . . ” The first casualties of the battle were already strewn across the passage ahead: The two stone gargoyles that usually guarded the entrance to the staffroom had been smashed apart by a jinx that

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had sailed through another broken window. Their remains stirred feebly on the floor, and as Harry leapt over one of their disembodied heads, it moaned faintly, “Oh, don’t mind me. . . I’ll just lie here and crumble. . . . ”

Its ugly stone face made Harry think suddenly of the marble bust of Rowena Ravenclaw at Xenophilius’s house, wearing that mad headdress — and then of the statue in Ravenclaw Tower, with the stone diadem upon her white curls. . . .

And as he reached the end of the passage, the memory of a third stone effigy came back to him: that of an ugly old warlock, onto whose head Harry himself had placed a wig and a battered old tiara. The shock shot through Harry with the heat of firewhisky, and he nearly stumbled.

He knew, at last, where the Horcrux sat waiting for him. . . . Tom Riddle, who confided in no one and operated alone, might have been arrogant enough to assume that he, and only he, had penetrated the deepest mysteries of Hogwarts Castle. Of course, Dumbledore and Flitwick, those model pupils, had never set foot in that particular place, but he, Harry, had strayed off the beaten track in his time at school — here at last was a secret he and Voldemort knew, that Dumbledore had never discovered —

He was roused by Professor Sprout, who was thundering past followed by Neville and half a dozen others, all of them wearing earmuffs and carrying what appeared to be large potted plants. “Mandrakes! ” Neville bellowed at Harry over his shoulder as he ran. “Going to lob them over the walls — they won’t like this! ” Harry knew now where to go: He sped off, with Hagrid and Fang galloping behind him. They passed portrait after portrait, and the

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painted figures raced alongside them, wizards and witches in ruffs and breeches, in armor and cloaks, cramming themselves into each others’ canvases, screaming news from other parts of the castle. As they reached the end of this corridor, the whole castle shook, and Harry knew, as a gigantic vase blew off its plinth with explosive force, that it was in the grip of enchantments more sinister than those of the teachers and the Order.

“It’s all righ’, Fang — it’s all righ’! ” yelled Hagrid, but the great boarhound had taken flight as slivers of china flew like shrapnel through the air, and Hagrid pounded off after the terrified dog, leaving Harry alone.

He forged on through the trembling passages, his wand at the ready, and for the length of one corridor the little painted knight, Sir Cadogan, rushed from painting to painting beside him, clank- ing along in his armor, screaming encouragement, his fat little pony cantering behind him.

“Braggarts and rogues, dogs and scoundrels, drive them out, Harry Potter, see them off! ”

Harry hurtled around a corner and found Fred and a small knot of students, including Lee Jordan and Hannah Abbott, standing beside another empty plinth, whose statue had concealed a secret passageway. Their wands were drawn and they were listening at the concealed hole.

“Nice night for it! ” Fred shouted as the castle quaked again, and Harry sprinted by, elated and terrified in equal measure. Along yet another corridor he dashed, and then there were owls everywhere, and Mrs. Norris was hissing and trying to bat them with her paws, no doubt to return them to their proper place. . . .

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“Potter! ”

Aberforth Dumbledore stood blocking the corridor ahead, his wand held ready.

“I’ve had hundreds of kids thundering through my pub, Potter! ” “I know, we’re evacuating, ” Harry said, “Voldemort’s —”

“— attacking because they haven’t handed you over, yeah, ” said Aberforth, “I’m not deaf, the whole of Hogsmeade heard him. And it never occurred to any of you to keep a few Slytherins hostage? There are kids of Death Eaters you’ve just sent to safety. Wouldn’t it have been a bit smarter to keep ’em here? ”

“It wouldn’t stop Voldemort, ” said Harry, “and your brother would never have done it. ”

Aberforth grunted and tore away in the opposite direction.

Your brother would never have done it. . . . Well, it was the truth,

Harry thought as he ran on again; Dumbledore, who had defended Snape for so long, would never have held students ransom. . . . And then he skidded around a final corner and with a yell of mingled relief and fury he saw them: Ron and Hermione, both with their arms full of large, curved, dirty yellow objects, Ron with a broomstick under his arm.

“Where the hell have you been? ” Harry shouted.

“Chamber of Secrets, ” said Ron.

“Chamber — what? ” said Harry, coming to an unsteady halt

before them.

“It was Ron, all Ron’s idea! ” said Hermione breathlessly. “Wasn’t it absolutely brilliant? There we were, after you left, and I said to Ron, even if we find the other one, how are we going to get rid of it? We still hadn’t got rid of the cup! And then he thought of it! The basilisk! ”

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“What the —? ”

“Something to get rid of Horcruxes, ” said Ron simply. Harry’s eyes dropped to the objects clutched in Ron and Hermi- one’s arms: great curved fangs, torn, he now realized, from the skull of a dead basilisk.

“But how did you get in there? ” he asked, staring from the fangs to Ron. “You need to speak Parseltongue! ”

“He did! ” whispered Hermione. “Show him, Ron! ” Ron made a horrible strangled hissing noise.

“It’s what you did to open the locket, ” he told Harry apologeti- cally. “I had to have a few goes to get it right, but, ” he shrugged modestly, “we got there in the end. ”

“He was amazing. ” said Hermione. “Amazing! ”

“So. . . ” Harry was struggling to keep up. “So. . . ” “So we’re another Horcrux down, ” said Ron, and from under his jacket he pulled the mangled remains of Hufflepuff’s cup. “Hermione stabbed it. Thought she should. She hasn’t had the pleasure yet. ” “Genius! ” yelled Harry.

“It was nothing, ” said Ron, though he looked delighted with himself. “So what’s new with you? ”

As he said it, there was an explosion from overhead: All three of them looked up as dust fell from the ceiling and they heard a distant scream.

“I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is, ” said Harry, talking fast. “He hid it exactly where I hid my old Potions book, where everyone’s been hiding stuff for centuries. He thought he was the only one to find it. Come on. ”

As the walls trembled again, he led the other two back through the concealed entrance and down the staircase into the Room of

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Requirement. It was empty except for three women: Ginny, Tonks, and an elderly witch wearing a moth-eaten hat, whom Harry rec- ognized immediately as Neville’s grandmother.

“Ah, Potter, ” she said crisply as if she had been waiting for him. “You can tell us what’s going on. ”

“Is everyone okay? ” said Ginny and Tonks together. “’S far as we know, ” said Harry. “Are there still people in the pas- sage to the Hog’s Head? ”

He knew that the room would not be able to transform while there were still users inside it.

“I was the last to come through, ” said Mrs. Longbottom. “I sealed it, I think it unwise to leave it open now Aberforth has left his pub. Have you seen my grandson? ”

“He’s fighting, ” said Harry.

“Naturally, ” said the old lady proudly. “Excuse me, I must go and assist him. ”

With surprising speed she trotted off toward the stone steps. Harry looked at Tonks.

“I thought you were supposed to be with Teddy at your mother’s? ”

“I couldn’t stand not knowing —” Tonks looked anguished. “She’ll look after him — have you seen Remus? ”

“He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds —”

Without another word, Tonks sped off.

“Ginny, ” said Harry, “I’m sorry, but we need you to leave too. Just for a bit. Then you can come back in. ”

Ginny looked simply delighted to leave her sanctuary.

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“And then you can come back in! ” he shouted after her as she ran

up the steps after Tonks. “ You’ve got to come back in! ”

“Hang on a moment! ” said Ron sharply. “We’ve forgotten someone! ”

“Who? ” asked Hermione.

“The house-elves, they’ll all be down in the kitchen, won’t they? ”

“You mean we ought to get them fighting? ” asked Harry. “No, ” said Ron seriously, “I mean we should tell them to get out. We don’t want any more Dobbies, do we? We can’t order them to die for us —”

There was a clatter as the basilisk fangs cascaded out of Hermi- one’s arms. Running at Ron, she flung them around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Ron threw away the fangs and broom- stick he was holding and responded with such enthusiasm that he lifted Hermione off her feet.

“Is this the moment? ” Harry asked weakly, and when nothing happened except that Ron and Hermione gripped each other still more firmly and swayed on the spot, he raised his voice. “OI! There’s a war going on here! ”

Ron and Hermione broke apart, their arms still around each other.

“I know, mate, ” said Ron, who looked as though he had recently been hit on the back of the head with a Bludger, “so it’s now or never, isn’t it? ”

“Never mind that, what about the Horcrux? ” Harry shouted. “D’you think you could just — just hold it in until we’ve got the diadem? ”

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“Yeah — right — sorry —” said Ron, and he and Hermione set about gathering up fangs, both pink in the face.

It was clear, as the three of them stepped back into the corridor upstairs, that in the minutes that they had spent in the Room of Requirement the situation within the castle had deteriorated se- verely: The walls and ceiling were shaking worse than ever; dust filled the air, and through the nearest window, Harry saw bursts of green and red light so close to the foot of the castle that he knew the Death Eaters must be very near to entering the place. Look- ing down, Harry saw Grawp the giant meandering past, swinging what looked like a stone gargoyle torn from the roof and roaring his displeasure.

“Let’s hope he steps on some of them! ” said Ron as more screams echoed from close by.

“As long as it’s not any of our lot! ” said a voice: Harry turned and saw Ginny and Tonks, both with their wands drawn at the next win- dow, which was missing several panes. Even as he watched, Ginny sent a well-aimed jinx into a crowd of fighters below.

“Good girl! ” roared a figure running through the dust toward them, and Harry saw Aberforth again, his gray hair flying as he led a small group of students past. “They look like they might be breach- ing the north battlements, they’ve brought giants of their own! ” “Have you seen Remus? ” Tonks called after him.

“He was dueling Dolohov, ” shouted Aberforth, “haven’t seen him since!

“Tonks, ” said Ginny, “Tonks, I’m sure he’s okay —” But Tonks had run off into the dust after Aberforth. Ginny turned, helpless, to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. “They’ll be all right, ” said Harry, though he knew they were

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empty words. “Ginny, we’ll be back in a moment, just keep out of the way, keep safe — come on! ” he said to Ron and Hermione, and they ran back to the stretch of wall beyond which the Room of Requirement was waiting to do the bidding of the next entrant.

I need the place where everything is hidden, Harry begged of it in-

side his head, and the door materialized on their third run past. The furor of the battle died the moment they crossed the thresh- old and closed the door behind them: All was silent. They were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.

“And he never realized anyone could get in? ” said Ron, his voice

echoing in the silence.

“He thought he was the only one, ” said Harry. “Too bad for him I’ve had to hide stuff in my time. . . this way, ” he added, “I think it’s down here. . . . ”

He passed the stuffed troll and the Vanishing Cabinet Draco Malfoy had mended last year with such disastrous consequences, then hesitated, looking up and down aisles of junk; he could not remember where to go next. . . .

“ Accio Diadem! ” cried Hermione in desperation, but nothing flew

through the air toward them. It seemed that, like the vault at Grin- gotts, the room would not yield its hidden objects that easily. “Let’s split up, ” Harry told the other two. “Look for a stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara! It’s standing on a cupboard and it’s definitely somewhere near here. . . . ”

They sped off up adjacent aisles; Harry could hear the others’ footsteps echoing through the towering piles of junk, of bottles, hats, crates, chairs, books, weapons, broomsticks, bats. . . .

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“Somewhere near here, ” Harry muttered to himself. “Some- where. . . somewhere. . . ”

Deeper and deeper into the labyrinth he went, looking for objects he recognized from his one previous trip into the room. His breath was loud in his ears, and then his very soul seemed to shiver: There it was, right ahead, the blistered old cupboard in which he had hid- den his old Potions book, and on top of it, the pockmarked stone warlock wearing a dusty old wig and what looked like an ancient, discolored tiara.

He had already stretched out his hand, though he remained ten feet away, when a voice behind him said, “Hold it, Potter. ”

He skidded to a halt and turned around. Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him, shoulder to shoulder, wands pointing right at Harry. Through the small space between their jeering faces he saw Draco Malfoy.

“That’s my wand you’re holding, Potter, ” said Malfoy, pointing his own through the gap between Crabbe and Goyle.

“Not anymore, ” panted Harry, tightening his grip on the haw- thorn wand. “Winners, keepers, Malfoy. Who’s lent you theirs? ” “My mother, ” said Draco.

Harry laughed, though there was nothing very humorous about the situation. He could not hear Ron or Hermione anymore. They seemed to have run out of earshot, searching for the diadem.

“So how come you three aren’t with Voldemort? ” asked Harry. “We’re gonna be rewarded, ” said Crabbe: His voice was surpris- ingly soft for such an enormous person; Harry had hardly ever heard him speak before. Crabbe was smiling like a small child promised a large bag of sweets. “We ’ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to ’im. ”

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“Good plan, ” said Harry in mock admiration. He could not be- lieve that he was this close, and was going to be thwarted by Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. He began edging slowly backward toward the place where the Horcrux sat lopsided upon the bust. If he could just get his hands on it before the fight broke out. . .

“So how did you get in here? ” he asked, trying to distract them. “I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last year, ” said Malfoy, his voice brittle. “I know how to get in. ”

“We was hiding in the corridor outside, ” grunted Goyle. “We can do Diss-lusion Charms now! And then, ” his face split into a gormless grin, “you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What’s a die-dum? ”

“Harry? ” Ron’s voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to Harry’s right. “Are you talking to someone? ”

With a whiplike movement, Crabbe pointed his wand at the fifty-foot mountain of old furniture, of broken trunks, of old books

and robes and unidentifiable junk, and shouted, “ Descendo! ”

The wall began to totter, then the top third crumbled into the aisle next door where Ron stood.

“Ron! ” Harry bellowed, as somewhere out of sight Hermione screamed, and Harry heard innumerable objects crashing to the floor on the other side of the destabilized wall: He pointed his wand

at the rampart, cried, “Finite! ” and it steadied.

“No! ” shouted Malfoy, staying Crabbe’s arm as the latter made to repeat his spell. “If you wreck the room you might bury this diadem thing! ”

“What’s that matter? ” said Crabbe, tugging himself free. “It’s Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum? ” “Potter came in here to get it, ” said Malfoy with ill-disguised

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impatience at the slow-wittedness of his colleagues, “so that must mean —”

“‘Must mean’? ” Crabbe turned on Malfoy with undisguised fe- rocity. “Who cares what you think? I don’t take your orders no more,

Draco. You an’ your dad are finished. ”

“Harry? ” shouted Ron again, from the other side of the junk wall. “What’s going on? ”

“Harry? ” mimicked Crabbe. “What’s going — no, Potter!

Crucio! ”

Harry had lunged for the tiara; Crabbe’s curse missed him but hit the stone bust, which flew into the air; the diadem soared upward and then dropped out of sight in the mass of objects on which the bust had rested.

“STOP! ” Malfoy shouted at Crabbe, his voice echoing through the enormous room. “The Dark Lord wants him alive —”

“So? I’m not killing him, am I? ” yelled Crabbe, throwing off Malfoy’s restraining arm. “But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what’s the diff —? ”

A jet of scarlet light shot past Harry by inches: Hermione had run around the corner behind him and sent a Stunning Spell straight at Crabbe’s head. It only missed because Malfoy pulled him out of the way.

“It’s that Mudblood! Avada Kedavra! ”

Harry saw Hermione dive aside, and his fury that Crabbe had aimed to kill wiped all else from his mind. He shot a Stunning Spell at Crabbe, who lurched out of the way, knocking Malfoy’s wand out of his hand; it rolled out of sight beneath a mountain of broken furniture and boxes.

“Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM! ” Malfoy yelled at Crabbe

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and Goyle, who were both aiming at Harry: Their split second’s hesitation was all Harry needed.

“ Expelliarmus! ”

Goyle’s wand flew out of his hand and disappeared into the bul- wark of objects beside him; Goyle leapt foolishly on the spot, trying to retrieve it; Malfoy jumped out of range of Hermione’s second Stunning Spell, and Ron, appearing suddenly at the end of the aisle, shot a full Body-Bind Curse at Crabbe, which narrowly missed.

Crabbe wheeled around and screamed, “ Avada Kedavra! ” again.

Ron leapt out of sight to avoid the jet of green light. The wand- less Malfoy cowered behind a three-legged wardrobe as Hermione charged toward them, hitting Goyle with a Stunning Spell as she came.

“It’s somewhere here! ” Harry yelled at her, pointing at the pile of junk into which the old tiara had fallen. “Look for it while I go and help R —”

“HARRY! ” she screamed.

A roaring, billowing noise behind him gave him a moment’s warning. He turned and saw both Ron and Crabbe running as hard as they could up the aisle toward them.

“Like it hot, scum? ” roared Crabbe as he ran.

But he seemed to have no control over what he had done. Flames of abnormal size were pursuing them, licking up the sides of the junk bulwarks, which were crumbling to soot at their touch.

“ Aguamenti! ” Harry bawled, but the jet of water that soared from

the tip of his wand evaporated in the air.

“RUN! ”

Malfoy grabbed the Stunned Goyle and dragged him along; Crabbe outstripped all of them, now looking terrified; Harry, Ron,

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and Hermione pelted along in his wake, and the fire pursued them. It was not normal fire; Crabbe had used a curse of which Harry had no knowledge: As they turned a corner the flames chased them as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing them. Now the fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: Flaming serpents, chimaeras, and dragons rose and fell and rose again, and the detritus of centuries on which they were feeding was thrown up in the air into their fanged mouths, tossed high on clawed feet, before being consumed by the inferno.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had vanished from view: Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped dead; the fiery monsters were circling them, drawing closer and closer, claws and horns and tails lashed, and the heat was solid as a wall around them.

“What can we do? ” Hermione screamed over the deafening roars of the fire. “What can we do? ”

“Here! ”

Harry seized a pair of heavy-looking broomsticks from the nearest pile of junk and threw one to Ron, who pulled Hermione onto it behind him. Harry swung his leg over the second broom and, with hard kicks to the ground, they soared up into the air, missing by feet the horned beak of a flaming raptor that snapped its jaws at them. The smoke and heat were becoming overwhelming: Below them the cursed fire was consuming the contraband of generations of hunted students, the guilty outcomes of a thousand banned experiments, the secrets of the countless souls who had sought refuge in the room. Harry could not see a trace of Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle anywhere: He swooped as low as he dared over the marauding monsters of flame to try to find them, but there was nothing but fire: What a terrible way to die. . . . He had never wanted this. . . .

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“Harry, let’s get out, let’s get out! ” bellowed Ron, though it was impossible to see where the door was through the black smoke. And then Harry heard a thin, piteous human scream from amidst the terrible commotion, the thunder of devouring flame.

“It’s — too — dangerous —! ” Ron yelled, but Harry wheeled in the air. His glasses giving his eyes some small protection from the smoke, he raked the firestorm below, seeking a sign of life, a limb or a face that was not yet charred like wood. . . .

And he saw them: Malfoy with his arms around the unconscious Goyle, the pair of them perched on a fragile tower of charred desks, and Harry dived. Malfoy saw him coming and raised one arm, but even as Harry grasped it he knew at once that it was no good: Goyle was too heavy and Malfoy’s hand, covered in sweat, slid instantly out of Harry’s —

“IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I’LL KILL YOU, HARRY! ” roared Ron’s voice, and, as a great flaming chimaera bore down upon them, he and Hermione dragged Goyle onto their broom and rose, roll- ing and pitching, into the air once more as Malfoy clambered up behind Harry.

“The door, get to the door, the door! ” screamed Malfoy in Har- ry’s ear, and Harry sped up, following Ron, Hermione, and Goyle through the billowing black smoke, hardly able to breathe: and all around them the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration: cups and shields, a sparkling necklace, and an old, discolored tiara —

“ What are you doing, what are you doing, the door’s that way! ”

screamed Malfoy, but Harry made a hairpin swerve and dived. The diadem seemed to fall in slow motion, turning and glittering as it

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dropped toward the maw of a yawning serpent, and then he had it, caught it around his wrist —

Harry swerved again as the serpent lunged at him; he soared upward and straight toward the place where, he prayed, the door stood open: Ron, Hermione, and Goyle had vanished; Malfoy was screaming and holding Harry so tightly it hurt. Then, through the smoke, Harry saw a rectangular patch on the wall and steered the broom at it, and moments later clean air filled his lungs and they collided with the wall in the corridor beyond.