CHAPTER 21

"Don't touch it, you idiot boy!" Snape growled, slapping his hand away fiercely enough to leave a nasty stinging in the teacher's wake. "We may have been able to lower the curse's intensity, but that necklace could still kill you!"

"I know, Professor! And I wasn't going to touch it," Draco snapped. "I was just…" Wondering if I should use it on my poor mother. "…Looking at it."

His Head of House had been in a foul mood for weeks and had proven to be even more paranoid than normal. The unbearable tension was starting to grate on Draco's already frayed nerves.

"Repeat the plan to me," Snape demanded impatiently.

"Severus, I do believe that Mr. Malfoy–"

"I don't care what you believe, old man. Or were you not listening when I said this necklace could still be lethal?"

Draco sighed, turning away from the necklace sparkling innocently against Dumbledore's large mahogany desk. He tried to push thoughts of his mother out of his mind as he glanced at the headmaster and sneered, "I'll say it again if it will make Snape feel better."

"Professor Snape, Draco," Dumbledore corrected gently. The headmaster's eyes glittered like the opals on his desk, reflecting the dim flickering in his overlarge fireplace. For a moment Draco was sure that he saw pity reflected in the old wizard's gaze, but immediately dismissed it as a trick of the light. Draco took pride him his ability to hide his thoughts, as chaotic as they were these days. There was no way Dumbledore could see the thoughts of his mother – thoughts that haunted him into the wee hours of the night and refused to let him sleep.

She's going to die, a voice whispered in the back of his brain. I'm going to fail and the Dark Lord is going to hollow out my mother until there is nothing left. She's going to die, but it should be at MY hands, not in the hands of that fucking MONSTER!

Draco hated even considering such a horrific thought. But he knew it to be the truth. As the days progressed, he found himself obsessing over the morbid ideas more and more.

It needs to be me – I should be the one to take her life. I wouldn't torture her as the Dark Lord does. I love my mother enough to gift her with a gentle and painless death…

Draco shook himself, swallowing back the emotion that had been threatening to overwhelm him for weeks. His eyes flicked uneasily toward the headmaster, and he realized with a start that the man's piercing blue gaze was still upon him. The clear blue eyes were unnerving in their intensity, making Draco feel even more vulnerable and raw than he did when he stood before the Dark Lord.

He narrowed his eyes at the old wizard, glaring at him with hot defiance. But the man never looked away as he continued to stare sadly across at Draco, his eyes glinting in the firelight. No one can see past my Occlumency shields! Draco frantically reminded himself. Not even Aunt Bellatrix, who'd taught her nephew the skill soon after escaping Azkaban and was the most talented Legilimens Draco knew. My secrets are safe from Dumbledore's grasp, he assured himself. But for some reason, he wasn't sure if that knowledge comforted or frightened him.

Draco's eyes flicked toward the frantic pacing of his Head of House, watching every agitated stride as Snape's cloak billowed behind him and cast eerie shadows along the stone walls.

"Well?" the man suddenly demanded. "Repeat the plan!"

Draco sighed and began to tonelessly recite, "The necklace will be wrapped to make sure it is not accidentally touched. The package will be addressed to Dumbledore, to make it look like a gift. I'll hide it beneath my cloak, making sure to wait for you in The Three Broomsticks. When you arrive, I'll leave the package in a safe area for you to 'find'. You will bring the package back to the castle and publicly present it to the Headmaster during dinner in the Great Hall. Dumbledore will then make a show of opening the blasted thing," he ground out, his voice dripping with strained sarcasm. "That way any suspicion will be alleviated, and the entire student body will have the joy of witnessing the Headmaster's near-death experience."

Snape's frantic pacing faltered. But Draco didn't notice as he continued his derisive tirade, dealing with his anxiety the only way he knew how – through indifference.

"You will heal almighty Dumbledore with the 'Fountain of Youth Juice' or whatever that gold stuff is called." Snape's movements abruptly stilled, and he turned slowly to stare at his silver-haired pupil. Draco felt some of the tension abate as some of his cocky bravado returned, and he latched onto it like a lifeline. "Dumbledore will survive, the Dark Lord will reconsider his opinion of me, and we'll all live happily ever after. The end."

Still as death, Snape glared silently across the room at him. Draco's skin suddenly prickled in warning, but he lifted his chin in arrogant defiance, refusing to give up what little comfort his old behavior had gained him.

When he shot Snape a devil-may-care smirk, the man charged him like a raging bull. The smile melted off the boy's face as he took a few hasty steps backward, knocking a chair onto its side in his attempt to get away.

"Do you think this is funny, Mr. Malfoy?!" Snape demanded menacingly as he snatched Draco's arm in a brutal, vice-like grip.

"N-no, sir," Draco stammered.

"Severus–"

"People's lives are at stake – yours among them!" Snape snarled, looming over the teenager and completely ignoring the Headmaster sitting beside them. "The Dark Lord must believe that you were close to completing your mission, or your mother–"

"Severus!"Dumbledore cried sharply. "That's enough!"

Snape went silent, but he did not meet Dumbledore's gaze. Instead he glowered at Draco, his eyes reminding the teen of a wild animal backed dangerously into a corner. For a terrifying heartbeat Draco was sure that the animal inside would lash out and attack him, and he held his breath. After a tense moment however, Snape tossed the silver-haired boy away from him with enough force to make him stumble.

Draco was unused to being handled so roughly, especially by this man. The professor's actions made Draco edgy, unsteadying him in more ways than he cared to admit.

"Be ready tomorrow," Snape growled. "And do not forget the price we will all pay if you fail."

The morning broke with an angry, icy wind that perfectly suited Draco's mood.

He shivered violently against the storm as he trudged alone through the swirling morning snow. The many layers of cloaks he'd worn in anticipation of the frozen walk to Hogsmeade did nothing to protect him from the brutal gusts. If anything, they were simply a reminder of the impossibility of his situation.

What is the point? He wondered. It's obvious that this plan is just delaying the inevitable. I'm as good as dead, and so is the rest of my family.

An image of his mother forced its way unbidden into his mind.Where once she had been as beautiful and dignified as royalty, now she was only a pitiful shell. Perhaps… He swallowed hard. Perhaps I should take this necklace and run. No one would know, until… until it was done. He imagined putting on gloves as he coaxed his mother to sit before the mirror of her large vanity, insisting on adorning her bare neck with the exquisite, deadly gift. Quick and painless, he thought. Better than what the Dark Lord has in store for her. Then it would simply be a matter of removing my gloves and laying my fingers upon the stones–

Without warning, Draco's feet slipped out from under him on the icy path, dropping him swiftly enough to make him think he'd been hit with a log-locking jinx. His stomach dropped as he lurched forward, and a blinding, agonizing pain shattered his skull before the world went suddenly dark.

Draco wasn't sure how long he laid there with his face pressed against the frozen ground. But as his eyes fluttered open, his blurry vision was inexplicably, confusingly red.

What the–?

He attempted to pick himself up from the bitterly cold snow. But the excruciating headache and wave of dizziness that assaulted him was enough to make his stomach heave in warning. Draco was suddenly grateful for the fact that his appetite had been nonexistent that morning as he slowly – gently – got to his knees.

It was only as he raised his head and saw the stain in the snow below him that Draco realized he was bleeding. He hissed in pain as he tenderly placed his fingertips against the pounding in his forehead, and his gloves came away covered in warm wetness. With a fierce, sudden throb that made him groan in pain, Draco realized he must have hit his head against a hidden rock in the snow.

Perfect, he thought bitterly. Just what I need as I'm attempting to deliver –

His eyes widened in horror.

"The necklace!" he cried, as he scrambled to retrieve the brown paper package hidden beneath the voluminous folds of his cloaks. "No, no, no, no, please–!"

The brown wrapping on the small bundle crinkled within his petrified grip as he was finally able to free it from an inside pocket. Panicked, Draco spun it in his hands and inspected it from every angle. But he breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that other than being a bit wrinkled in one corner after he'd apparently fallen on it, the package didn't seem harmed at all. And strangely, Draco couldn't decide if he was relieved or terrified by that fact.

What now? He wondered. Dare he attempt to follow this reckless plan to fruition… or not?

His head gave another vicious throb, and he grasped his temples between the palms of his hands with a groan. I'm lucky to be alive after a fall like that. Thank Merlin I'm still amongst the living… And he closed his eyes as the dizziness persisted.

But as his own thoughts echoed though his mind, his breath hitched and drew him up short. Wait, he thought as his eyes flew open. Did that mean…?

With a start, the realization that he wanted to live hit Draco like a kick from a Centaur. As wretched as his life was, he suddenly knew that wasn't ready to give up. The Dark Lord's second in command is working to undermine him while helping me to succeed. And I have the most powerful wizard of all time – the only wizard the Dark Lord has ever feared – acting on my behalf. On my mother's behalf. Although his head gave another agonizing throb, the thoughts made Draco grin through the wince of pain.

As long as we have Dumbledore on our side, there is still hope!

The world lurched as Draco scrambled once more to his feet. The pain in his head was excruciating. But he breathed the freezing air deep into his lungs, refusing to give up as he grounded himself in the sound and sensation of the icy snow swirling around him.

"For my mother," he murmured before casting a glamour to hide the wound on his forehead. He'd been practicing since being attacked in the showers all those weeks ago, determined never to be trapped in that predicament again. Fortunately, he'd gotten rather good at the spell. The swollen, bloody knot on his head quickly disappeared behind magically unblemished skin.

However, even that small use of energy was enough to drain him, and Draco found himself on his knees again. Although his brain felt as though it would split in two from the pounding, he forced himself to rise and stumble down the path. His head injury may have been hidden, but the ground still hadn't decided if it would allow him to stay upright. Every few steps Draco was forced to stop and wait for the world to stop spinning. He was glad he'd decided to head down to Hogsmeade early before the rest of his classmates.

I'll visit Ms. Prewett as soon as I get back to the castle, he promised himself. But not before.

For my mother…

Draco struggled to The Three Broomsticks, more than relieved when he finally stumbled through the door. Students had begun to trickle into town, and Draco was still extremely unsteady on his feet. It was only through sheer will that he hadn't fallen at the feet of the other teenagers.

Looking for a quiet table, Draco's hazy-eyed gaze traveled over a few early-morning patrons and chose a spot tucked into a dark corner. With a white-knuckled grasp, he clutched the chair backs and attempted to make his way toward the table without falling. Finally, he eased his way into a chair and closed his eyes, attempting to alleviate the waves of dizziness with deep, steadying breaths.

"Mr. Malfoy?" The silver-haired boy tried not to jostle his head too much as he raised his face. "Ah, Draco, m'boy! It is you!"

"Professor Slughorn?" Draco muttered in confusion. The man was wearing an enormous furry hat and an overcoat with matching fur collar. It took Draco a moment to recognize him in his dazed state. Why is he talking to me? He wondered dully. Perhaps I hit my head harder than I realized. This man usually treats me like one of the slugs Weasley puked up when he cursed himself back in third year. The random thought made him laugh in a strange way that sounded unnatural even to his own ears.

Slughorn's face creased into a worried expression, which made the man's features almost comical. "Are you alright, Draco?"

Draco laughed harder, not sure what was wrong with him. The pain in his head was nigh unbearable, but for some inexplicable reason, that made the situation even funnier.

He was starting to gain the looks of the handful of people sprinkled within the pub. "Is he alright?" Madam Rosemerta asked worriedly from behind the bar.

"He's fine!" Slughorn called, waving away their attention with an uneasy smile and a meaty hand. "Simply heard my joke about the centaur and the hippogriff. It is rather hilarious, if I do say so myself." And without invitation, Slughorn suddenly sat in the seat beside him, blocking the teenager from view of the other patrons with his immense bulk. "Draco, you're obviously unwell," he murmured. "Let me see what I can do to help you." As the beefy man grasped his chin between his thumb and forefinger, Draco's thoughts suddenly stilled. The pain within his skull began to fade away, until there was no feeling left within his body at all.

And although the thought should have concerned him, he felt himself gladly giving over to the velvety blackness of oblivion.

. : HP : : SS : HP : : SS : .

Harry wrapped his scarf over his lower face, but the exposed parts soon felt raw and numb. The road to the village was full of students bent double against the bitter wind. More than once Harry wondered whether they might not have had a better time in the warm common room. But he glanced at the small girls practically skipping through the snow in the lane beside him and knew that it was hopeless. After being made to feel like an outcast by the Dursleys his entire life, he knew he'd never be able to say no to the child that gazed at him worshipfully, as a younger sister would her older brother.

"Aren't you cold, Jilly?" he yelled over the howling wind.

"Nope! I'm too excited to see Hogsmeade!" She called back, threading her fingers through Celine's fingers as she gazed at her friend with glee.

"I 'ave never been to 'Ogsmeade eizzar, 'Arry," the black-haired girl announced with a large grin across her face. "Weel you tell uz once more about ze shops?"

"Well," Harry started, forcing his hands deeper into his pockets to warm his frozen fingertips. "There's Zonko's, the joke shop. It's not as good as Fred and George's, mind you. But it's got some brilliant stuff, if you know where to look."

"And there's Honeydukes!" Ron called from Harry's other side. "They have all kinds of sweets."

"And if you actually want to learn something," Hermione chimed in, "There's the Book Cellar. You never know what you'll find in there."

"I promised you a visit to Dervish and Bangs to purchase omnioculars for the upcoming Quidditch season, remember?" Lupin called from behind them. Even though he had to yell to be heard over the wind, Harry could clearly hear the warmth in the older man's tone.

Beside Lupin was Tonks, and Harry couldn't suppress his smile as he glanced over his shoulder and realized that the young woman was still huddled beneath Lupin's arm. She'd claimed it was because of the icy wind, but Harry knew better.

With a knowing smirk up at Lupin, Tonks cried, "Don't forget the Shrieking Shack! I hear it's one of the most haunted buildings in all of Britain!"

No amount of wind could hide the girls' squeal of excitement at that.

Not long after, Ron pointed toward Honeydukes with a thickly gloved hand, and the group staggered in his wake into the crowded shop. "Ahhhh," breathed Ron, unwrapping his scarf as the group was enveloped by warm, toffee-scented air. "I could stay here all afternoon."

The others murmured their agreement. Glancing around, Harry couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. He was greatly looking forward to defrosting in such a cozy atmosphere. Introducing the sweet shop to the girls made the experience even better.

Together the group explored creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees, and hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows. Lupin warned them away from a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and Celine empathetically agreed. Harry couldn't help laughing as, on tiptoes, Jilly peered interestedly at the colorful candies as she slowly walked away.

They moved along and inspected different varieties of Fizzing Whizzbees and levitating sherbet balls. Along yet another wall were "Special Effects" sweets: Drooble's Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days); the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints; tiny black Pepper Imps ("Breathe fire for your friends!"), Ice Mice ("Hear your teeth chatter and squeak!"), and peppermint creams shaped like toads ("Hop realistically in the stomach!") A certain redhead's tinkling laughter the last time she'd eaten one of the peppermint toads suddenly drifted through his mind, and he couldn't help wondering if he should purchase another for her. He glanced sideways at Ron and decided against it.

As the girls, with Lupin and Tonks following close behind, drifted away to see the exploding bonbons, Ron stopped to examine the fragile sugar-spun quills. He and Harry exchanged ideas on how they could get away with sneaking them into class, each one even more ridiculous than the last. Hermione rolled her eyes but said nothing as an indulgent smile played across her face.

"Harry, m'boy!" A sudden booming voice announced from behind them.

"Oh no," muttered Harry. The three of them turned to see Professor Slughorn, who was wearing an enormous furry hat and an overcoat with matching fur collar, clutching a large bag of crystalized pineapple, occupying at least a quarter of the shop.

"Harry! Just the young man I wanted to see," he announced somewhat pompously. "I'm hosting a small get-together in my quarters next Thursday evening, and I'm determined to have you!" A little violet ribbon-adorned invitation appeared from somewhere Harry didn't want to contemplate.

"Err…" Harry mumbled, feeling himself go red as his scarf seemed to tighten inexplicably around his neck.

Slughorn sensed his hesitation. "Your friends are welcome to join us, of course." At Harry's continued reluctance, he continued, "Come now, Harry. A little recreation never hurt anybody. It just wouldn't be the same without you."
Harry thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore over the summer when they'd visited Slughorn's ruined house. The headmaster had warned that Slughorn would want me for his… collection, Harry thought, swallowing back his immediate distaste. He must have told me for a reason. I suppose it's now or never.

"Well… alright. We'll be there. Thank you, sir."

Slughorn looked immensely pleased and with a regal wave, he waddled out of the shop. Harry waved at the man through the glass, the false smile plastered firmly in place until the professor disappeared out of sight.

The bogus delight immediately drained away the moment Slughorn was gone, and a bitter look took its place. Harry tried without much success not to roll his eyes as he turned to his friends and murmured, "Sorry for volunteering you without asking. I just don't think I could handle it alone."

And for some reason he couldn't explain, Harry found his time in the sweetshop quickly souring. As the others approached from the back, he asked listlessly, "Anyone up for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?" But he couldn't help the grudging smile that lifted the edge of his lips at Jilly's eager, vigorous nod at the mention of the delicious drink.

The group bundled their scarves back over their faces and hurried down the lane toward the pub. The bitter wind was like knives on their skin after the sugary warmth of Honeydukes. But nothing could tame the excitement in the young girl's faces as they burst through the Three Broomsticks' front door. The pub was crowded with patrons, all huddled together in one large crush as they attempted to warm themselves and keep out of the storm. Harry couldn't help laughing as Celine and Jilly's heads swiveled in all directions, attempting to take in everyone and everything at once.

"We may be standing at the bar," Harry murmured as he craned his neck in search of a few empty seats. "Girls, see if you can find a table–" But his voice abruptly died away. For there amongst the boisterous crowd, brooding alone and silent in a dark corner, was Draco Malfoy.

There was something off about the silver-haired teen that Harry couldn't identify. Maybe it was because Malfoy's goons were nowhere to be seen, or the fact that the Slytherin was staring listlessly into his lap instead of raking the people around him with an arrogant gaze. Harry's brow furrowed as he scrutinized his nemesis, realizing that Malfoy's eyes were as dead and wooden as the tabletop before of him.

"Right there – they're leaving," Hermione said from behind him, pointing to a table across the pub but in clear sight of the silver-haired teenager.

"Yeah, ok," Harry mumbled, being swept along by the rest of the group but not paying much attention to anything other than Malfoy's odd behavior.

However, he felt a tug on his hand and looked down. "Harry, I have to use the loo," Jilly murmured.

Truly seeing his surroundings for the first time, Harry saw that Hermione and Celine were distracting three young children from the departing family while Ron helped the harried mother collect toys, bottles, and shopping bags. Lupin was at the bar placing their order.

"I'll take her, Harry," Tonks called from behind him. Squeezing between chairs and patrons, she maneuvered towards them with a smile and took Jilly's hand. "C'mon Jilly, the loo is this way," she said, pointing to an area directly beside the bar.

"Harry!" Hermione waved from the table. "Grab some napkins, will you?"

After helping his friend wipe down the messy tabletop, Harry sat down and immediately looked across the way toward Malfoy. But the other boy was gone. He twisted in his chair as he searched the pub, but the Slytherin was nowhere to be seen.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, noticing his agitation and glancing around.

"Did you see Malfoy?" He asked, still searching the crowd. "He was acting really... off."

"That ferret is always acting off," Ron sneered, but Harry saw that he too was inspecting the faces around them.

"Who eez Malfoy?" Celine asked innocently from the chair beside Hermione.

"Here we are!" Lupin announced, appearing from the crowd and clunking down four heavy glass steins filled to the brim with warm, caramel-colored butterbeer topped with foamy cream. "Tonks has the rest – I couldn't carry them all."

"Why didn't you just levitate them?" Ron asked.

"Honestly?" Lupin answered with a chuckle. "I was afraid I'd get bumped and accidentally dump them on some unsuspecting patron."

"Yes, it's busy in here today!" Hermione agreed. "I don't think I've ever seen it this full."

Harry glanced toward the bar and saw that although the pink haired Auror was in possession of the other drinks, it looked as though she was waiting on something. Or someone, Harry realized as she noticed her intently watching the door to the restroom, which was no more than five feet from where she stood. But even as he digested this information, Jilly emerged from the loo. Harry couldn't help noticing odd look on her face.

"Right here, Jilly!" Tonks called, only moving toward the rest of the group when the red-haired girl was before her. But as he watched them make their way through the crowd to their table, Harry's gaze slid past them and landed on none other than Malfoy, who also seemed to be coming from the loo. At that same moment, the silver-haired teen seemed to feel him watching, and he raised his gaze from the floor. Harry narrowed his eyes in warning, anticipating the other boy's hatred as he returned the look.

But it never happened.

Instead of the loathing he expected to be thrown his way, Harry saw – nothing. No emotion at all. No animosity, no anger. Not even mild irritation. Instead the Slytherin looked… blank. It was the only word that Harry could think of to describe his nemesis in that moment, and the feeling immediately made him uneasy. As Malfoy sat down once again at the table that had remained mysteriously unoccupied in his absence, Harry knew that something wasn't right and determined that the git needed watching.

"I want to go!"

"Huh?" Harry asked, his gaze finally breaking away from the suspicious Slytherin as it landed on Jilly in surprise.

"I said I want to leave! I'm cold and I don't like it here! I want to go back to the castle!"

A stunned silence followed the girl's forceful announcement.

"But Jilly," Lupin said in a confused tone, "you haven't seen Dervish and Bangs yet–"

"Or Zonko's Joke Shop," interjected Ron.

"And what about ze Shrieking Shack?" asked Celine. "You zaid you were very excited about zat, oui?"

"No!" Jilly insisted in a mulish, defiant tone that was very unlike her. "I don't care about this place – it's boring. I said, I want to leave!"

The group looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "Uh…" Harry glanced one last time at Malfoy but gave up with a disappointed sigh. "Alright. Let's go, I guess."

The group swigged their butterbeers as they drew their cloaks tightly around them. But they were forced to hurry as Jillian practically ran from the pub.

"Jilly, wait!" Celine cried, following quickly behind.

"Girls – stop!" Lupin called as he and Tonks rushed after them.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione grabbed Jilly's scarf, Tonks' hat, and Lupin's gloves, all of which had been left behind in their hasty departure. Harry's thoughts strayed yet again to Malfoy, and he glanced one last time over his shoulder as they hurried out after the rest of the group. But thoughts of the Slytherin were quickly forgotten as they bowed their heads against the swirling sleet and hurried up the street.

The rest of the group had made surprisingly quick time and were halfway to the castle before they caught up with them.

"What's up?" Harry asked, out of breath as he and the others joined Lupin and Tonks. The girls pulled quickly ahead, as Jilly showed no sign of slowing even amongst the increasing wind and sleet.

"Girls, slow down!" Tonks called as Hermione distributed the items left behind. The auror hurried up the path with Jilly's scarf in hand as Lupin pulled on his gloves.

"What do you think is wrong with Jilly?" Ron wondered aloud as he gazed up the road at their retreating backs. "I thought she was having fun."

"So did I," Harry agreed, and a pit of worry began to gnaw uneasily at his stomach.

"Not to worry, guys," Lupin said with a half-hearted smile. "She's just a kid – their moods change as swiftly as the winds." But Harry couldn't help noticing that his worried gaze flicked continuously toward the girls, who were now high on the hill above them. The professor attempted to bolster the teens with a quick smile, but they could tell that he was just as nervous as they were.

As the four of them hurried up the path, they finally met up with Tonks. She was attempting to brush snow from herself, as though she'd recently fallen on the icy path. "She's going so fast – I'm afraid she's going to get hurt!" Tonks said with an edge of desperation. Lupin protectively held the auror steady as the group set off again.

Harry could hear the young girl's voices not far ahead being carried back to them on the wind. Celine was quickly becoming shriller and louder. Harry squinted at their indistinct figures as they came around the bend.

"Jillian! Stop right now!" Lupin cried. But the girl ignored the command. The uneasy pit in Harry's stomach grew.

The two girls were having an argument about something Jilly was holding in her hand. "It's nothing to do with you, Celine!" Harry heard her say.

"What's that she's got?" Harry asked. "Did she purchase something at Honeydukes?"

"She did. But I have it right here," Lupin said, patting his cloak pocket. The apprehension was now clear in his voice, and Harry quickened his pace on the icy path as panic gipped him in earnest.

They rounded another corner in the lane, sleet coming thick and fast, blurring Harry's glasses. Just as he raised a gloved hand to wipe them, Celine made to grab hold of the package Jilly was holding; Jilly tugged it back and the package fell to the ground. At once, the girl rose into the air, like a graceful dancer, her arms outstretched as though she were about to fly. But there was something terribly wrong.

The group halted in their tracks, watching in frozen horror.

Jilly's hair whipped around her in the fierce wind, but she continued to rise. Her eyes were closed, and her face was empty of all expression. Then, six feet above the ground, she let out a terrible scream. Her eyes flew open but whatever she could see, or whatever she was feeling, was clearly causing her terrible anguish. She screamed as though she was being flayed alive, and the hair on Harry's entire body rose in terror.

"Jillain!"

Celine started to scream too and seized Jilly's ankles, trying to tug her back to the ground. Harry rushed forward to help, breaking through Lupin's desperate hold. But even as he grabbed Jilly's legs, the girl collapsed within his arms like a dead weight.