Chapter Text
Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.
Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Hermione watched as a long line of scared-looking first years filing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.
Every year, this aged old hat, patched, frayed, and dirty, sorted new students into the four Hogwarts houses (Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin). Hermione well remembered putting it on, exactly one year ago, and waiting, petrified, for its decision as it muttered aloud in her ear. For a few horrible seconds she had feared that the hat was going to put her in Ravenclaw, home of the bookish and quiet; but she had ended up in Gryffindor, along with Ron, Harry, and the rest of the Weasleys. Last term, Harry and Ron had helped Gryffindor win the House Championship, beating Slytherin for the first time in seven years.
A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Hermione's eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She needed to speak with him about Harry. A distant roar echoed through the hall as another cheer went up from the house that gained a new member.
She fixed her gaze on her goblet, determined not to let the tears prickling in her eyes fall. Not a single one would fall. But she was oh-so worried about Harry. He hadn’t been on the train, and his cousin at his home had been oh-so worried. And what if she had made the wrong decision about not saying anything to the police. What if there was something wrong with Harry. She couldn’t wait any longer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the note that she had written the night before while packing up her trunk.
Hermione placed it on the table, and bent over it concentrating. With a swish of her wand, she banished it to the Head Table. Her head popped up and looked toward Professor Dumbledore. Hopefully he would read the note and do something.
To her disappointment, the note did not materialize in front of Professor Dumbledore, and as she searched down the Head Table, her heart sank as she saw Professor Snape unfolded the triangularly folded piece of parchment.
She watched as his face creased, and he pulled his wand out of his sleeve. A small wrinkling of his lips as he tapped his wand to the parchment was all that happened, until he flicked his wand and the paper fell into her lap.
Hermione’s shocked gaze met his, and as he nodded at her, she lifted the parchment with trembling hands. After dinner.
All throughout the Opening Feast, Hermione trembled as though she sat on a live wire. When Professor Dumbledore finally finished with his announcements, and said goodnight to all of the students; Hermione pushed off from the table and sprinted into the Entrance Hall.
"Follow me," said Snape.
Not daring even to look at each other, Hermione, Ron, Fred, and George; who had quickly followed behind Hermione, followed Snape up two flights of stairs and around a few corners before stopping in front of a griffin statue.
Professor Snape sighed and in his most droll voice intoned, “Lemon Drop.”
Fred and George couldn’t help but snicker at Professor Snape saying Lemon Drop in the most ridiculous manner, however they quickly quieted when he turned his icy gaze onto them.
"In!" he said, pointing at the stairs that were revealed as the griffin began to rotate.
They entered Professor Dumbledore's office, shivering with nerves. The bright office was softly glowing in the light of the candles. The fireplace flamed green, and out stepped Professor McGonagall, followed closely by Professor Dumbledore. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.
"So," he said softly, "The train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did he? Make a grand show, turning up after the Feast?”
"No, sir, it isn’t that. Harry wasn’t on the train, and when I went to his house his cousin-“ Hermione began to try to explain why Harry hadn’t shown up.
"Silence!" said Snape coldly. "Why would you want to go to his house?" Ron gulped. It was time for him and Fred and George to tell their part in this story.
“So, you see, Harry had promised to write Ron during summer.” Began Fred.
“And while we don’t know Harry as well as Ron does, we did share the Quidditch locker room with him all last year.” George continued.
“And we- the two of us- noticed that Harry was a bit shy when it came to changing into and out of his Quidditch uniform.”
“So, we promised to shield him from the rest of the team if he showed up why he was so shy.”
“So when he showed us…”
“We swore we would try to protect him from harm.”
“We failed. We couldn’t protect him from his family.” Fred began to cry, his voice cracking.
“His family, they did that to him. And now, he didn’t show up for school, and we are worried about him.” George’s voice cracked toward the end and he drew his twin closer to him and began to hug him close.
Ron took a deep breath, “So when he hadn’t been writing back to me at all during summer, I convinced Fred and George to steal our dad’s car to go rescue him, and when we found him…”
Professor McGonagall gasped and looked as though she might faint. Hermione gently took her elbow and guided her to a chair near the fireplace. Professor Dumbledore sank into his chair, and steepled his fingertips, while Professor Snape summoned two Calming Drafts and handed one to Professor McGonagall and the other to Ron. Ron quickly drank it down before continuing with his story.
“His bedroom window was locked up tight with these metal bars, and none of the others of the house had them. His bedroom door was locked with seven padlocks, on the outside of the room, and there was a catflap installed in the bottom of the door. Hedwig had a padlock on her cage and looked pretty thin and scruffy, as though she had been locked up since summer began. Harry himself was pretty thin and not looking his best, he had one heck of a black eye when we arrived. His belongings were stuffed into a small cupboard under the stairs-“
Fred interrupted, “When we went to get his stuff out of the cupboard, using a muggle technique, we found that not only was there his trunk and all his books and his wand. But there was also a small ratty mattress and blanket stuffed into the cupboard as well.”
George continued, “It looked like someone had been using it as a bedroom for a good while.”
Ron finished his explanation with, “Well, he almost forgot Hedwig, and she screeched at him to remind him not to forget her, and that woke his family up and his uncle caught Harry by the ankle and they managed to pull him back into the house and he told us to leave him and take Hedwig with and he’s been there ever since.”
The teachers were all staring in shock, even Professor Snape, so Hermione felt like throwing the final bit of their explanation. “I visited his house a few days before the end of summer vacation, and his cousin opened the door and he looked flustered. He was about to tell us of what happened to Harry, when he told us to leave and pretend we were people visiting trying to convince him to visit our church, because his parents where home. He sounded so worried, as though it would be even worse for Harry if we didn’t do as he said. So we had to leave and we pretended to be visiting from a church, and his family, they’re awful people, and I’m so worried for Harry. What if his awful uncle and aunt did something horrible to him?”
Professor Dumbledore had never looked older than he did in this moment. Professor McGonagall turned on him and went off on him, “YOU SAID THAT HE WOULD BE SAFE WITH THEM! ALBUS, YOU SWORE THAT PETUNIA WOULD MAKE SURE HE HAD A LOVING HOME!”
Professor Snape snapped out of his shock and joined Professor McGonagall in tearing strips off of Professor Dumbledore’s hide. “Petunia? You can’t possibly mean Petunia Evens, Lily’s sister? SHE HATED MAGIC. SHE SWORE THAT WHEN LILY GRADUATED SCHOOL THAT SHE WOULD NEVER SPEAK TO OR SEE HER SISTER OF FAMILY EVER AGAIN!”
Professor Dumbledore raised a shaking wand and spelled something that made the office flash pink and purple. “I lowered the wards around my office. Minerva, please take Severus and go to Harry, please.”
It was tense in the office when they Apperated out, leaving behind a shaken Professor Dumbledore and crying twins. Hermione herself began to hug Ron, and cry into his shoulder.
Ten minutes later, Professor Snape returned with Professor McGonagall, who immediately sank to the floor and began sobbing.
Professor Dumbledore stood up and frantically asked, “What, what is it? Is Harry alright?”
Professor McGonagall keened at Harry’s name, and Hermione began to cry anew. She knew something had happened to Harry.
Professor Snape stood stoically and managed one sentence before collapsing himself.
“Harry Potter is dead.”