Blaise could feel another presence in the room with them. He had never been in Sprout’s office before, but something about it felt strange. He knew what this was about, of course, although he would have to act surprised when Sprout told him. The Dark Lord’s rage had been violent when he had heard that they had let Hannah Abbott disappear from right under their fingertips.
Snape’s testimony had earned Blaise a mind-invasion before the Dark Lord tortured him. The headmaster had spoken about how Blaise was getting close to the girl, how he seemed to be succeeding in his mission. He also said that some of the students from her house had witnessed her fighting with another boy – a Huffelpuff boy – the night before she disappeared. So the Dark Lord had invaded Blaise’s memories in order to verify this. If he had been able to sense Blaise’s emotions in those memories Blaise would have been killed, as it was the Dark Lord saw only what was apparent: that Blaise had watched and become close with Hannah Abbott as ordered. That he had said disparaging things about her other friends, and warned her that others would try to make her use her power for their own ends. So Blaise had been tortured for a while and sent home to his mother.
“Mr. Zabini, are you all right?” Sprout’s voice brought him out of the painful memories and he nodded reflexively.
“A little tired from the journey here, that’s all Professor,” he said politely.
“I’m afraid I have some very serious news to break to you,” Sprout said, every line in her face telling Blaise that she was watching his every breath carefully. “I was told by some students in my house that you have recently grown close to Hannah Abbott, is this true?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, letting a little hint of annoyance and defiance seep into his voice, as if he expected her to object to their friendship.
Sprout sighed deeply and then continued. “I am afraid that Miss Abbott has not been seen since the night before the Holidays.”
Blaise let a tiny spasm of shock cross his face and then wiped it off. He could feel the blood drain from his face and, for good measure; he closed his eyes for a few moments. “Wh- I saw her that evening, I walked her back to her common room before curfew…”
“It would seem she had an argument with another student just after entering the common room. After the argument she left and no one has seen her since. If you know anything that could help us find her… Mr. Zabini, I don’t know how close you were to Miss Abbott, but you should be aware that she has nowhere to go. Her home was recently burnt to the ground, she had no living family. We must find her.”
Blaise did not respond. He stared blankly back at the head of Hufflepuff, waiting for her to continue. He was not afraid of Sprout, but he was sure that someone else was hidden in the room somewhere, listening to their conversation, and this scared him far more.
“Mr. Zabini, we are not accusing you of anything, but if you know - anything which could help us find her…”
“You won’t find her if she doesn’t want you to,” Blaise said honestly. “You’ve seen what she can do, professor.”
“Nevertheless,” Sprout said, “she is an underage witch, she is alone in the world, and she needs us to help-”
“But if she really did run away,” Blaise pressed on, “then she was running away from you. You’re not just interested in helping her, Professor, you want to use her. Anyone would want to use that kind of raw power for their own ends, especially now with the Wizarding World the way it is and fear running high everywhere.”
“This is what worries us, Mr. Zabini, if she has fallen into the wrong hands… if she’s with someone that is willing to abuse-”
Blaise shook his head at this stupidity. He didn’t care anymore if Sprout was trying to lead him into saying something, he couldn’t put up with stupidity on this scale.
“She’s not with anyone, if she ran away then she ran away from people. She wouldn’t want to be near anyone. Didn’t you see how afraid she was all the time – she was afraid of herself – afraid of hurting someone without meaning to. And yes, she was aware and afraid of the idea that others might try to abuse her power. She wouldn’t be with anyone right now. If she wanted – or needed – anyone around her then she would have stayed with her friends.”
Sprout gave him a long look. Finally, she opened her mouth and surprised him genuinely.
“How would you describe her magic?” she asked. “What sorts of things do you think might have triggered her outbursts? If traces of her magic were left over how do you think we could recognize them and track her?”
“You can’t,” Blaise said flatly. “You’re not going to find her if she doesn’t want to be found because her magic is more powerful than anything you’ve ever seen.”
Sprout looked a little annoyed, but she allowed him to continue. She was clearly very desperate for any information about Hannah’s magical power and it was obvious now that this was the reason for the interview.
“You probably already know that she doesn’t use a wand much anymore – not for her strongest magic. There’s something intuitive about her power, like a kid that’s just started manifesting their power and they’re not really fully aware that they’re doing anything out of the ordinary or how they’re doing it. Maybe it’s because this type of magic is new to her?”
“And this…intuitive grasp on magic… does this theory of yours have anything to do with the way you’ve been helping her try to control it?”
“I’ve just been getting her to relax and control her anger, that’s all.”
Sprout seemed to be listening to something, even after Blaise stopped talking and goosebumps ran down his arms.
“Do you have any theories about why she has her outbursts?”
Blaise shrugged. “She’s angry, and bitter, and afraid,” he said. “That’s not a good mixture. I really don’t know exactly what led to the outbursts, but I do know that controlling her anger and stress helped. I haven’t been doing anything complicated or special to help her, Professor.”
He made the last few words sound like the end to the conversation. Blaise wanted to get out of there. The mysterious presence in that room was starting to wear on his nerves and there was nothing more he could say about his relationship with Hannah Abbott without endangering himself.
“Thank you, Mr. Zabini, you’ve been most helpful. We’ll let you know when she is found.”
…
Ginny had decided to confide in the others about R.A.B. She had been unsuccessful at finding anything likely, and she really didn’t know what it was she was looking for. The problem was that Neville, her first choice of a confidant, was wearing himself out with rounds and with learning new healing spells and he didn’t seem to be really focused whenever she tried to start a conversation with him.
Luna’s loss had hit them all hard, but Hannah’s loss had hit the Hufflepuffs even harder. Susan and Ernie were in a state of constant mourning. It was clear to anyone who looked at Ernie that something was eating him up inside. Susan had cried several times, and her relationship with Seamus was beginning to suffer. Seamus kept trying to take her mind off Hannah, but Susan found this offensive. Although their relationship had begun as a way to keep the DA together they had truly become close over the past few months, but nowadays it felt like they were constantly arguing.
The only improvement was that Filch and the Carrows had finally abandoned their watch over the Room of Requirement so, if they were all very careful, the DA could hold their next meeting there. Ginny decided that if she could think of a way to explain it out loud, to explain the importance of it, she would bring it up at the meeting. It didn’t help that their last attempt to help Harry, Ron, and Hermione had failed miserably.
Suddenly, a sharp pain bit her finger and she pulled it out of her pocket along with the enchanted coin.
“Neville!” Ginny said, walking over to show him her coin. “Did you change the meeting time?”
Neville frowned up at her, pushing his Transfiguration essay aside and searching for his own coin. “Didn’t we say next week?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Ginny said, “but this says tonight.”
Neville finally located his coin. He studied it carefully and then thrust it into his pocket, packing up his books and parchment in a hurry. “I’ll tell Seamus,” he said. “We need to get over there quick, something big must have happened.”
…
Remus watched in fascination as the Muggle-born boy, a boy of only nine years old, began running his hands along the stone wall. Bill Weasley had brought him in to Order Headquarters only a few days ago and seeing his childish, but powerful, manifestations of magic Remus had decided to try this. If Zabini’s description of Hannah’s power was accurate then this boy had as good a chance as any to solve the mystery.
“Professor Lupin?” Susan whispered from beside him. Remus’ hand flew to his face. The fake scars were still there and his hand still looked uncomfortably large. She must have guessed that it would be him, although he was disguised as an Auror that the Order had captured a couple of days ago. Having all of Hufflepuff house here, watching, had been unavoidable, but hopefully, if this worked, he would have what he needed and be out of the Castle before Snape or the Carrows got wind of what was going on.
Remus nodded, not taking his eyes off the boy.
“Is he…?” Susan began, but she was silenced by a loud click that seemed to reverberate through the common room.
Little Liam had managed to do what Hogwarts’ most skilled Professors had not been able to do.
Remus used the Auror’s booming voice to order the students to stay back. He placed a large hand on Liam’s shoulder and thanked him for his help. Liam smiled proudly. “Can I go in?”
“Yes, but you must stay with Professor Sprout while I go ahead and make sure there’s nothing dangerous in there. Prefects, please keep all the other students at a safe distance.”
Remus hurried down the hidden passage. There was still a tiny hope inside him that the girl would be there, that the House Elves of Hogwarts had brought her food and taken care of her.
There was no one there.
Sprout exclaimed in surprise when she saw that the place was, indeed, a little cottage that looked as if it had belonged to the founders. They examined it carefully, but it did not look as if anyone had been there in a long time.
“There’s strong magic here, isn’t there?” Liam said.
“Yes,” Remus said, examining some maps and Hogwarts plans that lay on a table, “there is.”
They combed every inch of the place, but the only suspicious thing about it was that Helga Hufflepuff’s bedroom had been locked with a simple Alohomora spell. Remus examined that room more carefully and, finally, he found a small bowl of memories.
He called to Pomona and she came running. “Have you found anything? Is it a Pensieve?”
“Do you think the memories could be Hannah’s?” Remus asked.
“I don’t think so,” Pomona replied. “Hannah wouldn’t say anything except that this place belonged to the founders, but Ernie said he found her unconscious and frightened in one of the rooms… her own memories wouldn’t do that, especially not if she cast them aside.”
Remus nodded and examined the runes on the side of the bowl. “This is interesting,” he thought aloud, “it seems as if this is a spell meant to be used by the person viewing the memories. I’m going to try it, Pomona, but I may come out shaken or unconscious like Hannah did… if you would remain.”
“Of course,” Pomona said stoutly.
Remus whispered the incantation and plunged himself into the bowl. If it had been strange taking on the identity of an Auror it was a hundred times more so experiencing a memory from within the body of an energetic young woman.
He watched in rising horror as the events of Helga Hufflepuffs memory played out before him, reminding him hauntingly of young Hannah Abbot and the attack on her family home. He could feel, as if from a distance, a rising wave of anger and the growing uncontrollable power that Helga Hufflepuff was battling, but he was sure that when Hannah had seen this memory she had been much more deeply affected by it. Something about his being a male, about the strangeness of looking out through a woman’s body, made the spell less effective than he knew it could be.
The image of a young girl, battered and bloodied by the enraged crowd of Muggles would not leave him for years. No amount of lecturing had ever impressed upon him the urgency of the need for Wizards to go into hiding. No amount of study and theory could ever have helped him understand Hannah Abbott’s fear of her power the way this memory did.
He watched the destruction that Helga caused when she lost control of her anger and her magic, he watched her painful struggle for control and he saw the dead bodies of so many innocent people. When the memory was finally over Remus pulled himself out, taking gasping breaths. He knew there was more, but he would see it later…
He gestured vaguely towards the bowl and Pomona stepped towards it. Remus busied himself with studying the rest of the room while the Head of Hufflepuff experienced the memory. A small notebook caught his eye.
It had been cast aside and when he tried opening it he could feel that it hadn’t been opened before in hundreds of years.
Sprout finally pulled herself out of the memories and stumbled over to the bed, sitting down to regain her composure. “No wonder the poor girl was afraid,” she said in a low, serious voice, “If she saw this, if something similar happened to her this summer…”
“I’m sure of it,” Remus said. “There was nothing left of the house and we know many Death Eaters died there that day. I wonder if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knew what he was unleashing when he sent them after the Abbotts.”
“If he didn’t he would have loved it,” Pomona said, “Did you see the second memory Remus? Salazar Slytherin was talking about using that Dark power, trying to convince Helga that she would have to learn to use it.”
“We know she didn’t.”
“Yes, and she must have left this behind to help someone like Hannah learn from her experience, to help them learn to control it. She must have known that anyone who came along and possessed such a power would feel alone and would need some sort of guide.”
“But I don’t think Hannah understood that this was a guide,” Remus held the diary out to Pomona. “I think she was too afraid to see it that way, and I doubt she saw more than the one memory. She doesn’t seem to have looked at this diary, either.”
…
“Terry’s not coming,” Cho said closing the door firmly behind her as she entered the Room of Requirement. “He’s got detention…again.”
“Who called the meeting?” Seamus asked.
“I did,” Susan said. “Professor Sprout and Professor Lupin have been investigating the secret passage and today they got a little kid into the common room who actually managed to open it.”
“But no one except Hannah ever opened that place, even McGonagall and Flitwick and-”
“We know,” Ernie said, “But they did it today and they went in there and came out with a notebook and a Pensieve. I’m sure I saw the Pensieve nearby when I found Hannah there the first time…”
There was a short silence as everyone digested this news. Ginny saw that Seamus was rubbing his fingers against his latest scar. Neville was looking worriedly back at Susan.
“Well,” Cho said, “do you think they’re going to find her? What is it we can do?”
Ernie turned to Susan, clearly indicating that this had been her idea.
“We can try to get at that notebook and that Pensieve!” she said, looking directly at the Gryffindors now. “Ginny can talk to the Order for us… we need to know what’s happening, Hannah is our friend!”
Seamus’s face was a blotchy red now, and Ginny knew he would explode. She thought of saying something to steer the conversation away from this imminent eruption, but the only thing she had to say would not help. “The likelihood of the Order of the Pheonix telling me anything, friend or not, is less than zero,” she said. “I just spent the entire holiday being shunted around from place to place so that there would be no way I could hear what went on in the Order meetings.”
“Hannah needs us!” Susan said. “I’m sure that they won’t be able to find her without our help… we’re the ones who know her, we need to do something.”
Seamus took a few steps forward and Neville tried to stop him with a restraining hand. “Parvati almost got caught trying to get to this meeting. You had us scared half to death, thinking someone else had been chained up in the dungeons or something, and it was all just so we could come here and talk about Hannah again. You know we can’t do anything,” Seamus’ voice was rising dangerously. “Even if the Order would tell Ginny anything, we have no way of contacting them now without making everyone suspicious. Why didn’t you just ask Sprout? In case you hadn’t noticed, Susan, there are hundreds of people out there on the run, fighting for their lives, Hannah’s more than capable of taking care of-”
“You were singing a different tune when it was your mate Dean out there!” Ernie said, shouting back.
Seamus turned on him angrily. “And he’s STILL out there, but I don’t go harping on about it every two seconds, when there’s NOTHING I can do about it! Maybe you should have thought about this before you had a fight with Hannah! She ran away, nobody kidnapped her or told her she had dirty blood or-”
“You just don’t care, do you, that she’s out there all alone!” Susan cut in.
Seamus clenched his fists, but he did not turn to look at his girlfriend. “If you think I don’t care then why have you been crying on my shoulder all this time? You Hufflepuffs are really quick to accuse everyone else of not caring enough. It was ERNIE that had a fight with Hannah and it was YOU that put us all in danger calling this pointless meeting! When there’s something that I can actually do tell me and I’ll do it, otherwise I don’t want to see either of your faces.”
He turned on the spot and stomped out of the Room of Requirement leaving behind a sobbing Susan. Ernie MacMillan shouted an incoherent string of swear words through which Ginny heard something about doing his rounds. Ginny watched Neville put an arm around the crying Susan and lead her out as everyone dispersed.
…
Zach left Sprout’s office seething. He paced the common room for a few minutes, and accidentally upturned the plate of cookies. Two sixth year boys shouted at him, driving him out of the Common Room with their incessant, pointless anger over a couple of cookies.
He cast a disillusionment charm on himself and walked the halls absently, unable to focus on his surroundings. Sprout was being unreasonable and bloody Ernie and Susan were out somewhere, probably risking their necks for another crazy scheme to help Harry Potter when their own friend, Hannah, was out there alone somewhere.
The sound of sobbing brought his feet to a halt. He crept quietly around the corner and found Neville with his arm around a crying Susan. “He didn’t mean it, Susan, you know Seamus!”
“He did, though, he did!” she sniffed desperately. “He can’t stand me anymore just because I can’t forget about Hannah and pretend everything’s ok. What’s happening to us, Neville? First Ernie and Hannah then Ernie and Zach and now me and Seamus, we’re all fighting when we should be together. Some friends we are,” she sounded a little hysterical now. “We’re terrible friends… Hannah was happier than ever when she was with that Slytherin – Zabini! A b-bully was a better friend to her than we were!”
Neville sighed and a strange look came over his face. “It’s strange…” Neville said in a voice so low that Zach had to creep closer to hear him properly, “I saw Nott and Zabini with my own eyes beating up a little Ravenclaw kid-”
“And what they did to Pansy!” Susan reminded him. Her shrill voice was sure to bring Filch over soon.
“Yeah-” Neville said, “but every time I remember that day something feels weird about it. Like I wasn’t seeing the whole picture or… I don’t know...”
…
Remus had never kept a journal nor did he enjoy reading other people’s personal – and usually very boring – thoughts. If he had been a little bit more interested in History he might have read Helga Hufflepuff’s journal with a little more enthusiasm. As it was, he had consumed about five cups of coffee so far and he was only about a third of the way through.
“You’re tired, Remus,” Tonks said firmly, “leave it for tomorrow. You’ll probably miss something important trying to read it while you’re half asleep.”
Remus sighed and lifted his head. Tonks’ hair was a bright pink now, and she had a small smile on her face as she put a protective hand around her stomach. “I understand, Remus, don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t feel it too – the helpless feeling that the war is passing us by, that people are getting hurt, and I’m not doing anything to stop it. But… we’re doing the best we can, with what we’ve got. You have to believe that.”
“I’m just afraid,” he said, opening up to her about it for the first time. “I’m afraid of the life that I’ve sentenced our son to…”
Tonks’ hair was a spiky electric blue all of a sudden. “I know you are. You shouldn’t be though; he’s going to live in a much better world than we’re living in now.”
Remus swallowed against the lump in his throat, wishing desperately that she could be right. He set the book down and stretched out on the bed. Tonks had picked it up now and was flipping through the pages. She always did that with books, as if she was impatient to get to the ending. Seeing bits and pieces of the end always increased Remus’ frustration with a book, especially if it was a story. It always made him imagine the end to be more gruesome and frightening than it actually was.
“Hmm,” Tonks’ hair had relaxed into its comfortable pink again. “This looks interesting. She’s talking about some kind of prophecy. Sounds like she actually believed what it said.”
Once upon a time Tonks would have laughed at this, but now. Now they were weak, leaderless, struggling to survive in a world ruled by the most evil wizard ever to have existed and their only hope was based on a prophecy. Even if they didn’t believe it, and Remus did – how could he not when he had lost all of his friends to it – they would certainly not laugh at it. Not now.
“Did you find the Prophecy?” Remus asked. He was curious, but too tired to get back up now. She was right, it could wait until tomorrow.
“Yeah, listen to this: The badger will leave her stronghold and sparrows will fall, in the knowledge of the keeper of the count one and twenty…. Darkness will reign ere the breaking of the friendship for four and twenty years before the Phoenix is reborn.”
“You sure this was written by Helga Hufflepuff, Remus?” his wife asked, a bit of a nervous quaver in her voice. “It all sounds frighteningly immediate, you know. The badger, friendships breaking, the phoenix…”
“We should show it to McGonagall in the morning…”
“Yeah…” Tonks agreed, still staring down at the page.
