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A Friend in Need: Chapter 36
🕑 Added 2025-01-31 23:02:14 +0000 UTCChapter 36
Early the next morning, before leaving for breakfast, Harry told Hermione and Tonks about his talk with Dumbledore.
“So after this, there’ll only be two left, right?” Tonks asked.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “The Cup or the Locket, whichever one we don’t find, and Nagini.”
“I’ll research them as much as I can,” Hermione said.
“Have you had any luck brewing Liquid Luck?” Harry asked.
“I looked into it,” she sighed. “It’s incredibly complicated. The brewing process takes a week; you can only do it near Summer solstice; the ingredient amounts have to be precise, so you can’t make large batches, and if I get it even slightly wrong, the potion turns into a deadly poison. Honestly, I don’t think it’ll be that useful.”
“I’ll talk to Slughorn, then. See if we can just buy another vial,” he said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
“What are you thinking, love?” Tonks asked.
“I don’t know,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Something’s coming. I can feel it. I just don’t know what it is.”
Hermione and Tonks shared a look. As one, they walked over and hugged him.
Dumbledore wasn’t at the Head Table when they went down for breakfast, and Harry settled in for an agonizing wait. Every meal, he glanced up at Head Table, hoping to see Dumbledore, and finally, after a week and a half, he returned. It took all of his restraint not to rush up and start questioning him. Instead, he waited impatiently, his leg bouncing under the table for dinner to end.
Harry jumped to his feet as soon as Dumbledore finished his meal and stood. Abandoning his bag at the table, he walked into the Entrance Hall and waited. The headmaster didn’t even spare him a glance as he passed him and began climbing the stairs. Harry raced up the stairs and caught up to him at the landing. They fell into step as they followed the familiar path to the headmaster’s second-floor office.
“Anxious, Harry?” Dumbledore smiled.
“Wouldn’t you be?” Harry asked, fighting to hide his irritation.
Dumbledore chuckled, “Indeed I would.”
The walk to his office was mercifully short. They rode the spiraling staircase to the top, and Harry took a seat before the door was even closed.
“I suppose there’s no point in making you wait any longer,” the headmaster said, locking the door and freezing the portraits with a wave of his wand. “Yes, I found what I was looking for.”
“When do we leave?” Harry asked eagerly.
“Tonight,” Dumbledore replied, taking a seat behind his desk with a sigh.
“Really?” he asked, surprised.
“There’s no point waiting any further. I’ve learned all I can. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at midnight. I need a few hours of rest before we leave. My trip was more exhausting than I expected.”
Harry felt a surge of guilt as Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed his face tiredly.
“We can wait another day if you need to rest.”
Dumbledore replaced his glasses and smiled.
“I appreciate your concern, Harry, but I’m as anxious to finish this as you are,” he said. “I will be fine. Go make what preparations you need to. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Nodding, he stood and walked over to the door, which unlocked the moment his hand touched the doorknob. Harry opened the door and was halfway through it when he paused and turned back to Dumbledore. He wanted to ask a question, but he didn’t know what it was. After a moment, he gave up and left.
Lost in thought, he didn’t even realize he was making his way back to the Great Hall until he ran into Hermione and Tonks on the second-floor landing.
“What did he say?” Hermione asked, handing him his bag.
“We’re going tonight,” Harry told her.
“Let’s take this to our room,” Tonks suggested.
Nodding, he followed them up to Gryffindor Tower and into their private room.
“We’re leaving at midnight,” he said.
Tossing his bag next to the couch, he walked over to his dresser and opened the sock drawer.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Tonks asked.
“No, I didn’t ask,” he admitted. “Honestly, he didn’t tell me much.”
Tonks snorted, “Does he ever,” she muttered.
Harry smiled and pulled two vials, one full and one half empty, out of a pair of Vernon’s old socks.
“Here,” he said, handing the full vial to Hermione. “I want you and Tonks to drink half of this before I leave. Can you two organize extra patrols for tonight?”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Hermione asked, biting her lip.
“I’m probably just being paranoid, but something just feels off,” Harry sighed. “I just know something bad is going to happen as soon as I leave.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll organize extra patrols with the professors,” Tonks said. “We’ll be fine. We have Aurors here, and if we need to, we can call on the DA for help. You just worry about yourself and make sure you come back in one piece.”
“I’ll do my best,” he smiled.
Wrapping an arm around each of their waists, he led them over to the couch and sat. The wait for midnight was even more painful than the wait for Dumbledore to return. Harry found himself constantly glancing at the clock. Minutes felt like hours, and he swore time was going slower than usual just to mock him.
Eventually, though, the clock neared midnight.
“I should get going,” he said, getting to his feet.
Pulling the half-empty vial of Liquid Luck out of his pocket, he downed the rest of the potion. A wave of euphoric calm washed over him, and for the first time in days, his nerves settled.
“Your turn,” he said, nodding to Hermione.
She pulled the vial from her pocket and drank half before handing the rest to Tonks.
“Oh, wow,” she said.
“I’ve always wanted to try this stuff,” Tonks said, downing the potion. “Ooh, that’s nice.”
“Just remember that it doesn’t make you invincible,” Hermione warned.
“Yes, mum,” Tonks said teasingly, then turned to Harry. “You should go meet with Dumbledore.”
Nodding, Harry gave each of them a lingering kiss and made for the door.
“Good luck!” Tonks called after him.
With a smile and a wave, he left Gryffindor Tower and made the brief journey to the Astronomy Tower. When he arrived, Dumbledore was already standing at the railing, gazing up at the stars.
“Good evening, Harry,” he said without turning around. “I take it you’re ready to go?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Excellent,” he said, holding his arm to the side. “Take my arm.”
Harry rested his hand on his forearm and then felt the familiar, uncomfortable sensation of being squeezed through a small tube. The experience was mercifully brief, and when it ended, he found himself standing on a rocky shoreline. Waves crashed loudly against the black, jagged rocks, illuminated by small slivers of moonlight that managed to break through the low cloud cover. A cloud of mist dampened his skin, and the taste of salt tickled his tongue.
“Where are we?” he asked loudly over the roaring waves.
“We’re on the Cliffs of Moher,” Dumbledore replied. “Tom’s orphanage used to sit in a small village not far from here. From what I’ve been able to gather, he used to bring two of the other children here. The cave we are going to was his little hideaway, where he would use his magic to do unspeakable things. One of them still lives in the area. He doesn’t remember anything, of course, but the trauma he experienced was pain to see.”
Drawing his wand from his pocket, the tip glowed turquoise as he waved it in a wide arc. The waves crashed into an invisible barrier, and the tide receded, revealing a path of flat, black stones. Harry squinted into the darkness to try to make out what was on the other side, but all he could see was a wall of unbroken, jagged cliff face.
“Watch your step!” Dumbledore called, stepping out onto the path.
Harry followed after him cautiously, making sure his foot found purchase on the slippery stone before putting his weight forward. The distance was short, but the journey was slow and precarious as they crossed the path while chest-high waves crashed into the barrier a few feet to their right. They made it to the other side without incident, but where he found himself was hardly what he’d call a cave. It was more of an alcove carved into the cliff face that measured about ten feet wide and twelve feet high at the peak.
“Here we are,” Dumbledore said, lighting his wand. “Now, the entrance should be around here somewhere.”
Harry lit his wand and watched closely as the headmaster ran his hand over the uneven wall. As he neared the center, he suddenly stopped and took a step back.
“Come,” he said, waving Harry forward. “Tell me what you feel.”
Stepping up to the wall, he closed his eyes and ran his hand along the stone. After a moment, he saw a flash of crimson and tasted copper on his tongue.
“Blood,” he said, stepping back.
“Very good,” Dumbledore nodded.
“I felt the same thing in the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry told him.
“That’s likely where Tom got the idea,” Dumbledore said, examining the wall closely.
“Then why didn’t he open it?” he asked.
“Sensing magic is easy,” Dumbledore said, shining the light of his wand close to the wall. “Witches and wizards do it every day of our lives. Deciphering those feelings, however, takes much more skill. I expect Tom didn’t understand what he was sensing until long after he left Hogwarts. That said, this may give us a clue to what’s inside.”
“The Locket,” Harry nodded. “He’d wand to use Slytherin’s magic to protect it.”
Dumbledore turned and regarded him with a proud smile.
“Precisely.”
Suddenly, he produced an ivory-handled folding knife from his pocket, opened it, and held the blade against his palm.
“Wait!” Harry exclaimed. “Professor, maybe I should be the one to-”
“I appreciate your concern, Harry, but your blood is much more precious than mine,” Dumbledore smiled.
In a flash of silver, a line of crimson appeared across the palm of his hand. Before Harry could get a good look, the headmaster turned and rubbed his hand against the wall, smearing the rock face with blood. As he conjured a bandage for his hand, the wall cracked open with a grumble and rapidly widened into a tall, narrow passage. Dumbledore stepped up to the entrance when Harry had a sudden thought.
“Professor, doesn’t this all seem a bit… easy?” he asked cautiously.
“Secrecy is the Horcruxes greatest defense,” he smiled. “And, I assure you, we will find much more dangerous defenses within.”
Turning around, he slipped into the narrow opening, and Harry followed after him. The gap was only a few feet long before it opened up. A bright, round light appeared from the tip of Dumbledore’s wand, nearly blinding Harry, before it shot up and away. Blinking away the spots in his vision, he took in the massive cave they were. There was a narrow shoreline along the edge bordering a large underwater lake. As the light bobbed just below the stalactites hanging from the ceiling, he spotted a small, rocky island jutting from the center of the lake.
“I believe that’s where we’re going,” Dumbledore said. “Now, we just need to find a way across. Ah, here it is.”
He reached down and picked up an iron chain among the rocks that led into the water. With a grunt, he gave it a hearty tug. The surface bubbled twenty yards away, and then a small wooden boat breached the surface.
“Ah, sir,” Harry said nervously. “Why would Voldemort leave behind a boat for us to use?”
“Did you feel the ward we passed on our way in?” Dumbledore asked as the boat bobbed slowly closer.
Harry shook his head.
“This cave is heavily warded,” he continued. “If you had a broom, you would find it quite useless. You will also find that any Transfigurations or Conjurations you attempt fail after a few moments. Only Charms, Curses, and Hexes will work inside this cave. Tom made quite sure this boat is the only way to travel to the island.”
“But how do we know this isn’t a trap?” Harry asked.
“Oh, it almost certainly is,” Dumbledore replied. “We simply have to be cautious.”
The boat bumped into the shore, and Harry swallowed nervously as they carefully climbed aboard. As soon as they were seated, the boat backed up, spun around, and drifted slowly toward the island. He looked up, wondering if one of the stalactites would fall down and crush them, then looked down at the water, fearful that waves might appear and swamp the small boat. Suddenly, a decayed face appeared near the surface, blinked, and then sank out of sight.
“Professor,” Harry called nervously.
“Yes, I see,” Dumbledore said calmly. “Inferi. I imagine the lake is full of them. Be careful not to touch the water.”
Harry nodded, gripping his wand tightly in one hand and his seat with the other. The ride to the island was agonizingly slow, but they eventually bumped into the shore. He climbed off of the boat as fast as he could and took three large steps away from the water.
“Harry,” Dumbledore called.
He turned away from the water and spotted the headmaster standing next to a waist-high basin. It was the only thing of note on the small, rocky island. Approaching slowly, he looked inside and saw a light green, glowing potion sitting inside.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“Something highly unpleasant, I’m sure,” Dumbledore said.
He picked up a sea shell from the side of the basin, scooped up some of the potion, and let it fall back in.
“I believe we’re meant to drink it,” he concluded.
“Drink it?” Harry asked incredulously. “What if it’s poison?”
“Tom wouldn’t want to kill anyone who made it this far,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “He’d want to question them and find out how they discovered his secret. This potion is meant to debilitate, not to kill.”
“Okay,” Harry said slowly. “But, can’t we vanish it or something?”
Dumbledore paused and looked up at him.
“You’re welcome to try,” he said. “I don’t relish the thought of drinking this any more than you do.”
Harry raised his wand.
“Evanesco!”
The potion was entirely unaffected. Thinking he might be able to scoop it out, he transfigured a rock into a goblet and picked it up, only for it to turn back into a rock before he could move it to the basin. He dropped the rock and took the shell from Dumbledore’s hand. Taking a scoop of potion, he tried to dump it out, but it vanished before touching the ground. He scooped and scooped until his arm grew sore, but the level of the potion never changed. In frustration, he thrust the shell at Dumbledore and then tried to knock over the basin.
It didn’t budge. Harry leaned against the basin, slightly out of breath.
“It appears Tom thought of everything,” Dumbledore said.
Harry sighed, straightened, and drew his wand.
“I have one more idea.”
Dumbledore arched a bushy eyebrow as he leveled his wand at the basin.
“Incendio!”
A stream of bright orange flames shot from the end of his wand and wrapped around the basin. The heat caused sweat to appear on his arms and face, but Harry maintained his spell for a couple of minutes. Standing on his tiptoes, he looked at the potion, but it seemed unaffected. After another minute, he stopped his spell and approached the basin. Cautiously, he pressed his hand against it, only to find that the stone was still cool to the touch.
“Damn it.”
“I admit, boiling away the potion hadn’t occurred to me,” Dumbledore said. “It was a brilliant attempt, even if it didn’t work.”
Patting Harry on the shoulder, he walked up to the basin and picked up the shell.
“No matter what happens, no matter what I say, you must make sure I drink the entire potion,” he said, holding his gaze intently. “Your word, Harry.”
Reluctantly, Harry nodded. Dumbledore scooped up the potion and smiled.
“To good health.”
~
Tonks was passing by the Charms classroom on the third floor when she spotted Hermione and Susan doing their regular patrol.
“Hey, girls,” Tonks said. “Find anything interesting tonight.”
“Nothing,” Hermione said.
“I think the students are too scared of getting caught with so many people patrolling tonight,” Susan said. “Is there something going on?”
“It’s just a precaution,” Tonks assured her. “It’s about time for you two to call it a night. Do you want us to walk you back to your common room?”
“I think I’ll be fine,” Susan replied. “We just saw Professor Sprout heading that way. She’s probably waiting for me.”
“Alright,” Tonks smiled. “Have a good night, Susan.”
“Good night,” she said, waving before she headed down the stairs.
“Anything?” Hermione asked as soon as the redhead was out of earshot.
“Not a peep,” Tonks sighed. “But Harry’s right. Something just feels off, you know?”
“I think you’re both being paranoid,” Hermione said.
Shrugging, Tonks took the Marauder’s Map out of her pocket.
“I solemnly swear I’m up to no good.”
She opened it to a random part of the castle, and the first thing she saw was the name Draco Malfoy creeping its way up the stairs. Turning so Hermione could see, they shared and looked.
“I think we need to go find out what Malfoy is up to,” Tonks said.
Hermione nodded, and they began heading up the stairs.
A/N: I know you guys want more Daphne, and it will come, but it didn't fit this part of the story.
Comments
Professor Quill
thanks, i'll go back and fix it
Rhett Sellers
Chapter 29 “So, what was that about Liquid Luck?” Tonks asked. “Huh? Oh, right,” Harry said, taking a seat on the couch between the girls. “Remember at the beginning of the year, when Hermione won that bottle of Liquid Luck from Slughorn? Well, she thought it would come in handy so she brewed a couple more bottles. I figure if I take half a dose, it should give me enough luck to get that memory.” “Wait, isn’t Liquid Luck ridiculously hard to brew and deadly if you get it wrong?” Tonks asked, raising a brow at Hermione. Hermione shrugged, ducking her head as her cheeks went pink. Smiling, Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “That’s our Hermione,” he teased. “And if I get really lucky, I’ll have enough time to question Dumbledore after I give him the memory. We might finally know what the hell is going on this year.”
Rhett Sellers
Let me see if I can locate it then
Professor Quill
tried that and I still couldn't find it.
Rhett Sellers
Probably a word search for felix in the master document would locate it pretty quick
Rhett Sellers
Its where ever you first mention hermione winning the felix felicis from slughorn at the start of year 6. Harry goes on to say she has brewed more already or something along those lines and that hermione is super smart, etc. I'm afraid I dont remember the exact chapter.
Professor Quill
Do you know what chapter. I looked for it and I couldn't find where she brewed it, just where they talked about it.
Rhett Sellers
Ok, so we have officially retconned hermione having brewed liquid luck already (it was mentioned as having happened in an earlier chapter).
Brian Jordan
The further this discussion goes, the more I'm convinced we're discussing apples and oranges. You point seems to be that redemption is just a hypocrite's publicity stunt. The person doesn't change, he just does something showy and shouts 'I'm different now! Here's my spokesman/lawyer/public relations rep to explain how I'm not the same as before while I go off and do the same things I always do over and over.' My position is that the person sincerely seeking redemption is not spending a lot of time crying out on the street corner about how they changed so that people hear her/him. The person acts to make what amends he/she can, knowing, as you said earlier, that there's a limit on what they can do and that most, if not all, will never believe it is true. I have no doubt this post will not change your position. While I have found this discussion interesting, that's not what I visit this site for and I expect you don't either. Therefore I concede you are sincerely convinced of your position and wish you well.
Kasikan
I don't believe you can ever make up for murdering someone. You can't bring the dead back to life, so you'll never undo what you did. There's no making up for it. It'd be like taking Hitler, Stalin, and the Emperor of Japan and having them say they're sorry and building some schools or hospitals as their apology. It'd never make up for what they did. So you can't really expect redemption to undo the millions of lives lost. There's nothing they could ever do to redeem that. Doesn't help that the main source of so called redemption is prisons where priests convert convicts to their religions. Which is why they're so big on forgiveness and redemption. They get more followers in prison every year than they do new people coming into their churches. The sheer amount of money they make and influence they get from it makes for why they push the concept of redemption so hard. It's too profitable for them not to.
Brian Jordan
You're quite right: if someone thinks redemption is just 'gee, sorry about that chief' and then back to living life as before, it's not really redemption. Redemption requires actually working to correct what you did wrong and keeping at it until you fix things. How much will need to be done depends on the mistake made. The first real step, of course, is actually realizing what you did wrong and why it was wrong. Dumbledore's mistakes with Grindlewald and what they cost - and who suffered as a result - affects everything he did for the rest of his life. I would say he made a good faith effort but still didn't do as well as he might have, in large part because he was afraid he'd make the same mistakes or worse.
Kasikan
I've always disliked redemption. It makes it out that you can do anything, get away with anything as long as you feel bad about it afterwards. That's a horrible mindset to teach people. So many people murdered and all the murderer has to do is say they're sorry and will try to make up for it and they get away with everything. It's the worst type of lesson to ever teach anyone. That crime does pay, that murder and rape is okay so long as you say you're sorry and feel bad about it.
Brian Jordan
Hmmm. Assuming Malfudd doesn't die, what if he's paralyzed, any magic he has left defaulting to keeping him alive, though helpless? (No, I don't much like the idiot either, though I'm willing to let capable writers set him on the road to redemption.)
Kasikan
I was thinking of them trying to stop him, him trying to fight them and getting knocked over the moving stairs. One way trip to broken neck town. A nicer fate than he truly ever deserved.
Jordan Gunn
It feels like the liquid luck was basically useless this chapter. Hope you have ways it ties in next chapter.
Brian Jordan
Suggestion to your idea: Tonks, under the effects of liquid luck, trips at just the right moment and dear Dracus stumbles over her, dropping and breaking the cabinet He-Who-Hates-His-Real-Name is counting on using.
Doug Barton
Not one, but TWO cliffhangers! Just for that you get typos! :) trauma he experienced was pain to see He’d wand to use Slytherin’s magic
Kasikan
I always hated that they knew he was a Death Eater, which meant he had to go through the torture, rape, and murder initiation. Yet, they never did anything about him. Acted like because he was under the age of being considered an adult, it was all to be glossed over. Really made the end of the series shit to me. Ending of the series felt more like a prologue for the next generation movies where the same shit happens all over again, more than anything else. Would likely get a 5-7 movie every few decades where nothing ever changes. JKR just makes more money off of it. No need to fix anything, just let the world continue to suck. It pays well enough to never bother trying to change it.
Brian Jordan
Vol-ma the Never-living gave Draco a job. That job being done right will make everyone else's lives miserable. Hermione and Tonks each drank liquid luck before Harry left. I like the odds. Not guaranteed - nothing ever is - but I do like the odds.
Kasikan
Hope Draco accidentally slips and falls to his death here. Liquid luck is supposed to make things work in their favor after all. Letting him live and thrive always left a bad taste in my mouth. Especially with him going on to have kids after all the rape and murder he took part in.
