"They've taken him to the Hospital Wing!" I panted, running with Hermione and Ron down the corridor. "He doesn't need Madam Pomfrey, he needs Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall! It's—"
"Harry!" said Hermione at once, looking very frightened. "What happened? Are you all right? Are you ill?"
"Where have you been?" demanded Ron.
"What did you see?" I whispered hastily.
"Come with me," Harry said quickly. "Come on, I've got to tell you something..."
He led us along the first-floor corridor, peering through doorways, and at last found an empty classroom into which he dived, closing the door behind us the moment they were inside and leaning against it, facing us.
"Voldemort's got Sirius."
"What?"
"How d'you —?"
"Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."
"But— but where? How?" said Hermione, whose face was white.
"I dunno how," said Harry. "But I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls, and they're at the end of row ninety-seven... He's trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there— He's torturing him. Says he'll end by killing him..."
Shakily, he made his way to lean up against a desk, to steady himself.
"How're we going to get there?" he asked them.
There was a moment's silence.
Then Ron said, "G-get there?"
"Get to the Department of Mysteries, so we can rescue Sirius!" Harry said loudly.
"But — Harry..." I said weakly.
"What? What?" said Harry.
"Harry," said Hermione in a rather frightened voice, "er— h-how did Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anybody realizing he was there?"
"How do I know?" bellowed Harry. "The question is how we're going to get in there!"
"But... Harry, think about this," said Hermione, taking a step toward him, "it's five o'clock in the afternoon— The Ministry of Magic must be full of workers. How would Voldemort and Sirius have got in without being seen? Harry, they're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world. You think they could get into a building full of Aurors undetected?"
"I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!" Harry shouted. "Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been—"
"You've never been there, Harry," I said quietly. "You've dreamed about the place, that's all."
"They're not normal dreams!" Harry shouted in my face, standing up and taking a step closer to me in turn. "How d'you explain Ron's dad then, what was all that about, how come I knew what had happened to him?"
"He's got a point," said Ron quietly, looking at me and Hermione.
"But this is just— just so unlikely!" said Hermione desperately. "Harry, how on earth could Voldemort have got hold of Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place all the time?"
"Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air," said Ron, sounding worried. "He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages —"
"But why," Hermione persisted, "why on earth would Voldemort want to use Sirius to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?"
"I dunno, there could be loads of reasons!" Harry yelled at her. "Maybe Sirius is just someone Voldemort doesn't care about seeing hurt —"
"You know what, I've just thought of something," said Ron in a hushed voice. "Sirius's brother was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!"
"Yeah— and that's why Dumbledore's been so keen to keep Sirius locked up all the time!" said Harry.
"Look, I'm sorry," I said, "but neither of you are making sense, and we've got no proof for any of this, no proof Voldemort and Sirius are even there —"
"Of course you're saying that! Your godfather is safely at home while mine is —"
"You seem to forget that Sirius is very much my godfather as he is yours! Lupin was my guardian because our parents died and Sirius got sent to Azkaban," I raised my voice.
"But Harry," Hermione said before Harry could respond, "what if your dream was— was just that, a dream?"
Harry let out a roar of frustration. Hermione actually stepped back from him, looking alarmed.
"You don't get it!" Harry shouted at her. "I'm not having nightmares, I'm not just dreaming! What d'you think all the Occlumency was for, why d'you think Dumbledore wanted me prevented from seeing these things? Because they're REAL, Hermione— Sirius is trapped— I've seen him— Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows, and that means we're the only ones who can save him, and if you don't want to do it, fine, but I'm going, understand? Even if Maisey doesn't want to go either! And if I remember rightly, Hermione, you didn't have a problem with our– my saving-people-thing when it was you I was saving from the dementors, or" — he rounded on Ron— "when it was your sister I was saving from the basilisk —"
"I never said I had a problem!" said Ron heatedly.
"But Harry, you've just said it," said Hermione fiercely. "Dumbledore wanted you to learn to shut these things out of your mind, if you'd done Occlumency properly, like Maisey, you'd never have seen this—"
"IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN—"
"Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learning to close your mind!"
"WELL, I EXPECT HE'D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I'D JUST—"
The classroom door opened. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I whipped around. Ginny walked in, looking curious, followed by Luna, who as usual looked as though she had drifted in accidentally.
"Hi," said Ginny uncertainly. "We recognized Harry's voice— what are you yelling about?"
"Never you mind," said Harry roughly.
Ginny raised her eyebrows.
"There's no need to take that tone with me," she said coolly. "I was only wondering whether I could help."
"Well, you can't," said Harry shortly.
"You're being rather rude, you know," said Luna serenely.
Harry swore and turned away.
"Wait," said Hermione suddenly. "Wait... Harry, they can help."
Harry, Ron, and I looked at her with confusion.
The plan was for Harry to go into Umbridge's office and use the fireplace to go to twelve Grimmauld Place to see Sirius.
"Got it," Harry panted. "Ready to go, then?"
"All right," whispered Hermione as a gang of loud sixth years passed us. "So Ron— you go and head Umbridge off... Ginny and Luna, if you can start moving people out of the corridor... Harry, Maisey, and I will get the cloak on and wait until the coast is clear."
Ron strode away, his bright red hair visible right to the end of the passage. Meanwhile, Ginny's equally vivid head bobbed between the jostling students surrounding them in the other direction, trailed by Luna's blonde one.
"Get over here," muttered Hermione, tugging at my and Harry's wrists and pulling us back into a recess where the ugly stone head of a medieval wizard stood muttering to itself on a column. "Are— are you sure you're both okay? You're very pale—"
"I'm fine," Harry and I said shortly.
Both of us were lying, throughout our entire argument, my scar was aching and I knew his was as well.
"Here," he said. He threw the Invisibility Cloak over us and we stood listening carefully over the Latin mumblings of the bust in front of us.
"You can't come down here!" Ginny was calling to the crowd. "No, sorry, you're going to have to go round by the swiveling staircase, someone's let off Garroting Gas just along here—"
I could hear people complaining; one surly voice said, "I can't see no gas..."
"That's because it's colorless," said Ginny in a convincingly exasperated voice, "but if you want to walk through it, carry on, then we'll have your body as proof for the next idiot who didn't believe us..."
Slowly the crowd thinned. The news about the Garroting Gas seemed to have spread— people were not coming this way anymore. When at last the surrounding area was quite clear, Hermione said quietly, "I think that's as good as we're going to get— come on, let's do it."
Together we moved forward, covered by the cloak. Luna was standing with her back to them at the far end of the corridor. As we passed Ginny, Hermione whispered, "Good one...don't forget the signal..."
The lock on Umbridge's office was unlocked so Harry didn't need to use Sirius's knife. We pulled off the cloak. Hermione hurried over to the window and stood out of sight, peering down into the grounds with her wand out. Harry and I dashed over to the fireplace, seized the pot of Floo powder, and threw a pinch into the grate, causing emerald flames to burst into life there. I knelt down quickly as we thrusted our heads into the dancing fire, and cried, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!"
There was nobody there.
"Sirius?" Harry shouted. "Sirius, are you there?"
His voice echoed around the room, but there was no answer except a tiny scuffing sound to the right of the fire.
"Who's there?" I called, wondering whether it was just a mouse.
Kreacher the house-elf came creeping into view. He looked highly delighted about something, though he seemed to have recently sustained a nasty injury to both hands, which were heavily bandaged.
"It's the Potter kids' heads in the fire," Kreacher informed the empty kitchen, stealing furtive, oddly triumphant glances at us. "What has they come for, Kreacher wonders?"
"Where's Sirius, Kreacher?" Harry demanded.
The house-elf gave a wheezy chuckle. "Master has gone out, Harry Potter."
"Where's he gone? Where's he gone, Kreacher?"
Kreacher merely cackled.
"I'm warning you!" said Harry, fully aware that any scope for inflicting punishment upon Kreacher was almost nonexistent in this position.
"What about Lupin? Mad-Eye? Any of them, are any of them here?" I asked instead.
"Nobody here but Kreacher!" said the elf gleefully, and turning away from us he began to walk slowly toward the door at the end of the kitchen. "Kreacher thinks he will have a little chat with his Mistress now, yes, he hasn't had a chance in a long time, Kreacher's Master has been keeping him away from her—"
"Where has Sirius gone?" I yelled after the elf. "Kreacher, has he gone to the Department of Mysteries?"
Kreacher stopped in his tracks.
"Master does not tell poor Kreacher where he is going," said the elf quietly.
"But you know!" shouted Harry. "Don't you? You know where he is!"
There was a moment's silence, then the elf let out his loudest cackle yet.
"Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries!" he said gleefully. "Kreacher and his Mistress are alone again!"
And he scurried forward and disappeared through the door to the hall.
"You —!"
But before I could utter a single curse or insult, I felt a great pain at the top of my head. I inhaled a lot of ash and, choking, found myself being dragged backward through the flames, with Harry, until, with a horrible abruptness, we were staring up into the wide, pallid face of Professor Umbridge, who had dragged us backward out of the fire by our hair and was now bending my neck back as far as it would go as though she was going to slit our throats.
"You think," she whispered, bending our necks back even farther, so that I was looking up at the ceiling above me, "that after two nifflers 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 children. Take their wands," she barked at someone I could not see, and I felt a hand grope inside my chest pocket.
"Ew, stop touching me!" I shrieked. "I don't have my wand! I left it in my bag!" I lied. Instead of keeping my wand in my chest pocket or waistband, I always kept my wand in my boots or sleeves.
"Hers too," Umbridge said. I heard a scuffle over by the door and knew that Hermione had just had her wand wrested from her as well.
"I want to know why you are in my office," said Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching his hair so that he staggered.
"I was— trying to get my Firebolt!" Harry croaked.
"Liar." She shook his head again. "Your Firebolt is under guard with Professor McGonagall because your sister—" she shook my head "—plays Quidditch, as you very well know, Potter. And you both had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?"
"No one —" I said, trying to pull away from her. I felt several hairs pull from the top of my head.
"Liar!" shouted Umbridge.
She threw us from her, and I slammed into the desk, hitting my ribs. Now I could see Hermione pinioned against the wall by Millicent Bulstrode. Malfoy was leaning on the windowsill, smirking as he threw Harry's wand into the air one-handed and then caught it again.
There was a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna, and— to my bewilderment — Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them had been gagged.
"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forward into the room. "That one." he poked a thick finger at Neville, "tried to stop me taking her," he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, "so I brought him along too."
"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley and Potter-free zone, doesn't it?"
Malfoy laughed loudly and sycophantically. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.
"So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron, and Malfoy laughed even louder, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so.
"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone..."
Malfoy and a few of the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad laughed some more at that.
"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled.
"Miss Potter, anything to say?" she raised her thinned eyebrow at me.
I shook my head, still massaging my sore rib. Umbridge's slack face seemed to tighten.
"Very well," she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Potters, I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you both. Draco— fetch Professor Snape."
After a few moments, the door opened to reveal Draco and Snape.
"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.
"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quickly as you can, please."
"You took my last bottle to interrogate the Potters," he said, observing her coolly. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops each would be sufficient."
"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.
"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."
"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found the Potters using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"
"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry and me. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. They have never shown much inclination to follow school rules."
"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"
"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter— and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did— I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling..."
Snape looked back at me frantic to communicate without words.
Voldemort's got Sirius in the Department of Mysteries...
"You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"
Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. I knew this was our last chance of letting the Order know what was going on was walking out of the door.
"He's got Padfoot!" I shouted.
Harry seemed to have caught my hint and shouted, "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"
Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.
"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from me to Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"
Snape looked around at us. His face was inscrutable. I could not tell whether he had understood or not, but he did not dare speak more plainly in front of Umbridge.
"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "When I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you both a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."
He closed the door behind him with a snap, leaving me in a state of worse turmoil than before: It's over.
"Very well," she said, and she pulled out her wand. "I am left with no alternative... This is more than a matter of school discipline... This is an issue of Ministry security..."
"You are forcing me, Potter... I do not want to," said Umbridge. "The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue —"
"Professor Umbridge— that's illegal!" Hermione tried, but she took no notice.
"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" I cried.
"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge.
And taking a deep breath, she cried, "Cruc —"
"NO!" shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. "No— Harry— Maisey, we'll have to tell her!"
"No way!" I yelled.
"We'll have to, Maisey, she'll force it out of one of you anyway, what's... what's the point...?"
And Hermione began to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.
"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Question-All is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"
"Er— my— nee— no!" shouted Ron through his gag.
Ginny and Harry were staring at Hermione as though they had never seen her before; Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her too. But I had just noticed something. Though Hermione was sobbing desperately into her hands, there was no trace of a tear...
"I'm— I'm sorry everyone," said Hermione. "But— I can't stand it—"
"That's right, that's right, girl!" said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. "Now then, with whom was Potter communicating just now?"
"Well," gulped Hermione into her hands, "well, they were trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore...."
Harry snapped his neck up to see Hermione; Ron froze, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor's toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and her minions was focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice these suspicious signs.
"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"
"Well...no!" sobbed Hermione. "We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head —"
"Idiot girl, Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!" shouted Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face.
"But— but we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione, holding her hands more tightly over her face, not out of anguish, but to disguise the continued absence of tears.
"Yes?" said Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"
"W-we wanted to tell him it's r-ready!" choked Hermione.
"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione's shoulders again and shook her slightly. "What's ready, girl?"
"T-the weapon," said Hermione.
"Weapon? Weapon?" said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"
"Y-y-yes," gasped Hermione. "But he had to leave before it was finished and n-n-now we've finished it for him, and we c-c-can't find him t-t-to tell him!"
"What kind of weapon is it?" said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.
"We don't r-r-really understand it," said Hermione, sniffing loudly. "We j-j-just did what P-P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-t-to do."
Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.
"Lead me to the weapon," she said. "I'm not showing... them," said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.
"It is not for you to set conditions," said Professor Umbridge harshly.
"Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again, "fine! Let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right— oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll be able to s-sort you out!"
These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge. She glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face. Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment and then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly voice.
"All right, dear, let's make it just you and me... and we'll take Mr. Potter too, shall we? Get up, now —"
"Professor," said Malfoy eagerly, "Professor Umbridge, I think some of the squad should come with you to look after —"
"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?" asked Umbridge sharply. "In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these" — she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and me— "escape."
"All right," said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.
"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. "Lead on..."