Black's Prophecy || Book 3

Twenty Four

"Guys!" 

Hermione was tugging at his sleeve, staring at her watch. "We've got exactly ten minutes to get back down to the hospital wing without anybody seeing us—before Dumbledore locks the door—"

"Okay," said Harry, wrenching his gaze from the sky, "let's go...."

They slipped through the doorway behind them and down a tightly spiraling stone staircase. As they reached the bottom of it, they heard voices. They flattened themselves against the wall and listened. It sounded like Fudge and Snape. They were walking quickly along the corridor at the foot of the staircase.

"... only hope Dumbledore's not going to make difficulties," Snape was saying. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Macnair returns with the Dementors. This whole Black affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to informing the Daily Prophet that we've got him at last.... I daresay they'll want to interview you, Snape... and once young Harry's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to tell the Prophet exactly how you saved him...."

Lorenzo had to throw himself on Cordelia to stop her from strangling the professor and giving away their hiding place. They listened intently until the footsteps died away and the ran in the opposite direction. Down one staircase, then another, along a new corridor—then they heard a cackling ahead.

"Peeves!" Harry muttered, grabbing Hermione's wrist in one hand and Cordelia's in other. "In here!" Hermione grabbed Lorenzo's arm.

They tore into a deserted classroom to their left just in time. Peeves seemed to be bouncing along the corridor in boisterous good spirits, laughing his head off.

"Oh, he's horrible," whispered Hermione, her ear to the door. "I bet he's all excited because the Dementors are going to finish off Sirius...." She checked her watch. "Three minutes, guys!"

They waited until Peeves's gloating voice had faded into the distance, then slid back out of the room and broke into a run again.

"Guys—what'll happen—if we don't get back inside before Dumbledore locks the door?" Harry panted.

"I don't want to think about it!" Hermione moaned, checking her watch again. "One minute!"

Cordelia pushed her legs harder ignoring the stinging pain now shooting through her bones. 

They had reached the end of the corridor with the hospital wing entrance. "Okay—I can hear Dumbledore," said Hermione tensely. "Come on, guys!"

They crept along the corridor. The door opened. Dumbledore's back appeared.

"I am going to lock you in," they heard him saying. "it is five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

Dumbledore backed out of the room, closed the door, and took out his wand to magically lock it. Panicking, Harry and Hermione ran forward whilst the two Slytherin following calmly. Dumbledore looked up, and a wide smile appeared under the long silver mustache. "Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it!" said Harry breathlessly. "Sirius has gone, on Buckbeak...."

Dumbledore beamed at them.

"Well done. I think—" He listened intently for any sound within the hospital wing. "Yes, I think you've gone too—get inside—I'll lock you in—"

"Professor, we must speak to you in private about some—rather inexplicable things." Cordelia said and stepped forward.

Dumbledore nodded but said, "yes, we must but as of this moment, you'd rather be inside otherwise Madame Pomfrey will have my head."