Harry was breathing hard. He was cowered in a corner of Snape's dungeon, watching as the Potions Master slowly turned round and round and peered mistrustfully into the shadows. Snape then stretched out his arms and groped along the walls as if he suspected that, somewhere in this room, lurked Harry Potter in his invisibility cloak. Harry swallowed silently and sank lower to the floor.
This worked. Snape's fumbling arms went right over his head. Finally, with a snarl of rage, Snape swung around and swept out of the dungeon.
Harry let out his breath in a relieved sigh, and gingerly followed in his wake. He was heading for the Room of Requirement, where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. Everything should now be ready. He was going to get Sirius back! Excitement fizzed along his veins as he ghosted quietly along the familiar corridors.
"Albus! I must speak with you!"
Dumbledore looked up from the piles of papers on his desk and peered over his half-moon glasses. Snape was looming over him with a dramatic air.
"Messages from the Ministry every other minute," he sighed, pushing the notes in front of him to one side. "I'm thinking about moving into the Owlery. Yes, Severus, how may I help you?"
Snape delicately removed a piece of fluff from the sleeve of his robes.
"It's that Potter boy."
"Harry? Ah yes, Severus. What has been doing to upset you now?" (Apart from breathing, Dumbledore silently added to himself.)
"He takes liberties, Albus. I have warned you of this on a number of occasions –"
How true, thought Dumbledore. "Yes," he agreed patiently. "I know. But I'm sure you did not come here simply to tell me that, Severus. What in particular has he been doing to draw down your wrath?"
Snape's black eyes sparked. "He has stolen something. Yet again, he has broken into my Potions store -"
"Your Potions store? Are you sure it was Harry, Severus, and what is it you suspect he has taken?"
"It must have been Potter. Only Potter has an invisibility cloak. Why you persist in letting him retain such a dangerous –" He coughed. "Yes, well. The other reason I am convinced the thief is Potter is because of what was taken."
Dumbledore made an encouraging movement with his hand. Snape paused before he continued.
"I am afraid, Albus, you will find this news disturbing. The ingredients missing are those needed for the final touches in brewing Essence of Mag Mell."
"Mag Mell…?" Dumbledore sat up. "Have you checked to see where Harry is now?"
"No," Snape snapped, flaring his nostrils. "Funnily enough, I have better things to do than chase around the castle after that wretched Potter boy – even though he seems to think this ought to be everyone's primary business in life."
"Then there is no time to lose." Dumbledore strode to the door. "I would appreciate it you would accompany me, Severus. I may need you."
"Certainly, Headmaster."
The noisy chatter in the Gryffindor Common Room died down in surprise when Dumbledore made his entrance through the portrait of the Fat Lady. It stopped altogether when the inhabitants of Gryffindor registered that their Potions Master was sweeping behind him.
Dumbledore smiled reassuringly. "Do not be alarmed. I wonder, has anyone seen Harry recently – Harry Potter? I need a word with him."
"He went out, Headmaster," piped up Colin Creevey, who could normally be relied on to have a good idea of Harry's whereabouts. "It was quite a while ago, actually, and he had Ron and Hermione with him."
Snape twisted his lip sardonically. Naturally, Ron and Hermione would have been with him. Granger and the youngest Weasley boy were almost as bad as Potter himself. Only almost, of course.
As they strode back along the corridor, Snape saw that Dumbledore was looking rather pale. Snape let out his breath in a grumpy sigh. Normally, he enjoyed other people's discomfiture. On the whole, he found it a more acceptable means of indulging his spleen than mayhem, torture and murder. (That was part of the Dark Lord's trouble: he had no sense of perspective.) However, Dumbledore inspired him with a feeling not so very distant from what might in anyone else be termed affection. Dumbledore, he knew, had a curious attachment to Potter. Far too trusting, Dumbledore, he thought to himself: not without irony. He was very aware that others shared this point of view entirely, except it was with respect to himself.
The words were out before he knew what he was saying.
"We will need to check out the castle and grounds thoroughly, of course. But I suppose, if you wish me to, I could always go in after them - should it be necessary."
Dumbledore stopped in his tracks. "My dear Severus. What a very generous offer. Have you undertaken this journey before?"
Snape shook his head. No-one in their right minds would make this journey unless absolutely obliged to, or unless they had Potter's apparently unshakeable belief in his own invincibility.
"It will be dangerous." Dumbledore warned.
"I am aware of this."
"How will you find them?"
"I shall follow the trail of destruction, chaos and the blundering good fortune of fools. At the end of this path, I have no doubt I will locate Potter and his friends."
"Severus, I will be deeply in your debt if you do see fit to undertake this task."
Snape shrugged indifferently. His inner thoughts, however, were something along the lines: Have you gone completely out of your mind? (which must be much tinier than you have always supposed.)
Peculiarly enough, this was just what Hermione was thinking. She knew Harry would not have been able to brew this potion on his own. It was far too complicated. It was, she thought (not without a trace of smugness) something that only real adepts could hope to bring off.
Adepts and thieves. She shuddered to contemplate Snape's reaction when he noticed that his precious Potions Store had been raided yet again. Harry and Ron were blithely convinced that even if he noticed someone had broken in, he would not realize for what purpose. Hermione was not so sure. She suspected the dark glitter in Snape's eyes betrayed a powerful intellect. It would not be impossible for him to put two and two together….
"Don't be silly, Hermione," Ron had said sweepingly. "How could anyone realize what we are up to just because we've taken a couple of random ingredients? We managed to get most of the stuff in Hogsmeade…"
"Because," Hermione had explained patiently, "if you know what you are doing, these are not random ingredients. They are always used in potions to do with resisting death. Snape could quite easily guess what potion we want to make…"
"Yeah, but how?" Ron demanded. He did look a shade uneasy.
"How?" Hermione looked at him in disbelief. "Harry has spent the last two months either not talking at all or talking about Sirius, and you want to know how Snape will guess which particular death potion we are interested in?"
"Yeah, well – " At that moment, Harry returned; Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and shut up. This was pretty much par for the course over recent weeks.
"I got them," he said triumphantly. "Bane's bane, Wolfshead, and Concentrate of Sea Onion!"
"Oh good," Hermione muttered under her breath. "Right, give them here."
The Potion they had been brewing was so dark it seemed to absorb colour from around it. Wreaths of mist breathed from its black surface. Hermione took the herbs, now chopped into the recommended sizes and shapes, and one by one she added them to the brew. She intoned the proper incantations. The mixture slowly turned from the dullest of blacks to what looked like liquid starlight.
"Wow, Hermione!" said Ron.
She did not bother to reply. She took out the three bottles she had spelled earlier, filled them to the brim, and silently passed them to her two friends.
"Now," she said. "We need to go stand in the light of the full moon by the edge of still waters. Harry - " She hesitated. "Harry, are you really sure this is such a good idea?"
"Yes," he replied mulishly. "But you don't have to come. In fact it's probably better if you don't.. I mean it will be a risk... I don't want you getting hurt..."
They had been through this argument so many times that Harry was not surprised when neither Hermione nor Ron took the slightest bit of notice. Hermione and Ron had both been very reluctant to aid him in this latest enterprise. However, both had been equally adamant that if he was going to do it, he would not be alone.
"All right then," Harry said, trying to sound a lot more confident then he really was. "Off we go!"
They slipped quietly out of the castle through one of the secret entrances revealed to them by Fred and George. The moon was full and bulbous. They were heading for the shores of the lake; there, they would take the potion.
And enter, they hoped, into the Land of Mag Mell: otherwise known as the Underworld. Or at least, Harry hoped this. Hermione and Ron were both prey to rather more mixed emotions.