Harry and Amelia Potter

7.10

Then we see them. Swirling outside the courtroom doors like sentinels are tall black-hooded figures. Dementors.

Just then, a man comes stumbling out of the courtroom in the company of a pair of Death Eaters.

"I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard! Look him up! William Alderton! He worked here for thirty years..." the terrified wizard exclaims. As Ron watches the man pass, Harry grabs his arm, pulls him toward the courtroom.

A dark cathedral, possessed of a palpable chill. Dementors float eerily in the gloom. The ceiling stretches high, disappears in darkness. As Harry, Ron, and I enter, unnoticed at first, we move cautiously, taking in our surroundings. Hermione comes into our view, sitting with a stack of parchment behind a balustrade alongside Umbridge and Yaxley, while a bright silver cat, Umbridge's Patronus, prowls up and down, providing warmth to them and them only. Harry's eyes track the cat, then drift to Umbridge herself.

Then I hear it. The faint sound, like a beating heart, like scratching at windows. I falter and Ron notices. He eyes me curiously. Then leans in to whisper, "What is it?"

"It's here." I tell both the boys. Harry focuses and I can tell he can hear what I hear. As Ron reacts, deciphering my words, a woman's voice comes out way.

"Reg..."

Ron turns. Below the balustrade, a frail woman, Mary Cattermole, sits alone, wrists chained. Seeing Ron, her wan face brightens. Ron glances at Harry and I, we nod, urging him on. Ron moves to the center of the room, taking his place behind the woman. Hesitating, he places his hands gently upon her shoulders, then glances up, sees Hermione watching him.

"Mary Elizabeth Cattermole?" Umbridge begins to question her.

"Yes." Mary looks terrified.

"Mother to Maisie, Ellie and Alfred? Wife to Reginald?"

Mary looks up to Ron, her eyes glistening with fear. He smiles reassuringly. She looks away, replies, "Yes."

Harry and I eye Umbridge. She has draped the pink scarf over her chair, revealing a gold chain that extends from her neck down into the ruffled folds of her blouse. A slight humming, faint and oddly lyrical, rings in our ears as he studies the chain. As if drawn forward by some irresistible force, we both begin to drift toward the balustrade.

"A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry today, Mrs. Cattermole. Is this that wand?" Umbridge displays a cherrywood wand. Mary Cattermole nods. "Would you please tell the court from which witch or wizard you took this wand."

"But I didn't take it. I got it in Diagon Alley, at Ollivander's, when I was eleven. It chose me."

Umbridge leans forward, teeth glittering as the cat slinks by and briefly illuminates her face, and the chain at her neck trembles like a snake, something heavy swinging forward and dangling over the void. The locket.

Ron stares at it dumbstruck. Hermione catches her breath. Harry and I, fully removed from the shadow now, the corners of our eyes narrowing once again, the hum growing louder in our ears. Slowly, Harry reaches into his pocket.

"No, no, I don't think so, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches. And you are not a witch." Umbridge states.

"But I am! Tell them, Reg! Tell them what I am!" Ron starts to speak, but Umbridge's gaze has shifted, to Harry, to the wand rising in his hand.. and pointed at her.

"What the devil are you doing, Albert?" Before Harry speaks, I drop the tea cup, shatter it on the black tile. She then glances at me, and I can feel the Polyjuice potion wearing off. "Margaret?"

As I speak, my face ripples through. "You're lying, Dolores. And one mustn't tell lies." My wand falls through my sleeve and I raise it. "Stupefy!"

A flash of red light hits Umbridge and she slumps, forehead striking the balustrade. Instantly the silver cat vanishes. Yaxley draws his wand, but Ron is too quick and takes him out with a single blast. Hermione strips the locket from Umbridge's neck and leaps down. Instantly, her breath comes in plumes as the Dementors drift forward.

Harry and I wave our wands. "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver stag and doe soars from the tip of our wands, circling the room as it drives the Dementors back.

"Relashio!" Hermione casts and the chains encircling Mary Cattermole's wrists drop like dead snakes. As she stands, she eyes Harry and I in amazement as we transforms back into ourselves.

"You two? It's you two! Reg, it's Harry and Amelia Potter!" She exclaims.

"'Tis, isn't it? This'll be one to tell the kids." Ron shouts as we run.

As we, along with Mary Cattermole, pelts into the atrium and races toward the fireplaces, Harry bumps into the muttering wizard, who spins, takes a look at Harry, blinks.

"Harry Potter...?" Then he speaks louder. "Harry Potter." Then he looks over at me. "Amelia and Harry Potter!"

Another wizard hears, looks, then repeats the same, our names spreading like wildfire in the gloomy hush. Hermione glances about nervously and as she does, begins to transform back into herself.

"Mia, Harry... they've seen you. We've got to get out of here." Hermione whispers. And we nod, quickening our pace. Ron glances about, then turns, facing Mary as he continues to walk backwards.

"Mary. Go home. Get the kids. I'll... I'll meet you there. We have to get out the country, understand?" Mary shakes her head, confused. "Mary! Do as I say!" Mary stops, a bit teary-eyed, nods dutifully. Ron frowns. "I'm sorry. It's just-"

Mary Cattermole takes him by the collar, pulls him into a deep kiss. Harry, Hermione, and I glance back and watch as Ron transforms, during the kiss, back into himself.

"Mary!" All eyes turn. The real Reg Cattermole stands, robeless, outside one of the fireplaces. She looks up at Ron, now transformed, and jumps back.

"Long story. Nice meeting you." Ron gives her a peck, races off. He's halfway to the fireplaces when he spies... Percy. He slows, then stops altogether, and they stare, wordless, at one another. Finally, Percy begins to open his mouth, but Ron beats him to it. "Piss off."

Yaxley staggers into the atrium. "Seal the exits! Now!"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I glance at each other, and break for the fireplaces. As Yaxley fires on us, one fireplace after another seals itself. As we reach the last open grate, we pitch themselves, as one, onto the polished marble floor, spells sailing over our heads, and go sliding inside. As we fall into darkness, I glance back and watch Yaxley pitch himself into the void just before a solid block of granite drops, like a guillotine, sealing the fireplace and plunging Yaxley, and the four of us, into total darkness.

A whirlwind tosses us as flashes of light reveal each briefly, including Yaxley, who reaches out for Hermione's robe. The door of Grimmauld Place rushes forward, the eyes of the serpent knocker flashing, then there is a burst of purple light, a tortured scream and the world spins as I lie on my back in a bed of leaves and twigs.