The Name in Red **COMPLETE**

Hello everyone! I bet you're all glad to see an update so soon! I hope you are, at least! I just couldn't help myself. I had been planning this chapter for quite a long time and wanted to get it out as soon as possible.

To emtimmins - Wow! All 21 chapters in a single day?! That must have taken you quite a while! I'm glad you like my story so much. Thank you for the awesome review :)

Thanks to everyone else who has left me a review as well. As always, I appreciate them so much. They really keep me going. As much as I enjoy writing my story, I also want people to enjoy reading it too.

Anyway, enough waiting! On with chapter 22! Enjoy :)


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The Name in Red.

Chapter 22: The Name in Red.
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It was mid-morning when Sarah dragged herself out of bed. She was awakened mostly by the rich aromas of breakfast wafting up from the basement kitchen. Kreacher, it seemed, was wasting no time in preparing as much food for them as possible. When she descended into the kitchen, she was not surprised to find Harry already there, seated at the long table. Before him was a dizzying array of every breakfast food Sarah could possibly imagine; eggs cooked in every which way, bacon, sausage, toast, roasted potatoes, pancakes, waffles, muffins, rolls, and to drink, milk, fresh pumpkin juice, hot tea and coffee. Harry's plate was full, apparently very appreciative of Kreacher's cooking. When he noticed her, he looked up, swallowing a mouthful of sausage and egg.

"Good morning," he said, smiling at her.

Sarah's eyes were wide as she examined the impressive breakfast spread. Despite the massive amount of food, Kreacher was still bustling about around the stove.

"Morning," she replied, eyeing the elf. What an amazing little cook.

Harry followed the direction of Sarah's gaze, watching as Kreacher continued cooking away at the stove. He try hide an amused smile at the elf's expense.

"Just try and eat as much as you can," Harry whispered, leaning in Sarah's direction.

A moment later, Kreacher turned about, taking notice of the new guest in the kitchen. His eyes lit up.

"Good morning, Miss!" the elf croaked, making a bow. He then shuffled over to Sarah, taking a hold of her hand and ushering her over to a place set for her across the table from Harry. Sarah allowed herself to be led, and smiled when the elf pulled out her chair for her.

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Sarah, examining the food more closely now that she was sitting at the table. Her recent depression-induced lack of appetite seemed to fade away when faced with so many delicious-looking things. And of course, as she knew, she could not very well offend Kreacher by not eating anything. She helped herself to quite a few things on the table, filling her plate.

As she reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, she noticed the sword of Gryffindor lying across the end of the table, still wrapped in its discreet packaging of linens. She blushed immediately; Harry must have entered her room sometime during the night or early in the morning to retrieve it. He must have seen her pathetically snuggled up with Snape's traveling cloak and her bottle of Amortentia which carried his scent. Trying to ignore her embarrassment, she poured herself some pumpkin juice and glanced at Harry. Intent on his meal, he was not looking at her. He must know for certain that something had happened between her and Snape now, and that it was the obvious source of her recent discontent. To his credit, however, he did not broach the subject throughout their quiet meal.

"Did you sleep alright?" Harry asked tentatively after a while of silence.

"Yeah, I did," Sarah replied truthfully. "That's probably just about the most comfortable couch ever. And I never knew what I was missing before I had a fireplace in my room."

"Glad to hear it," said Harry, "I was worried you would be uncomfortable on the sofa."

"What about you?"

"Didn't get a wink, unfortunately," Harry lamented with a sigh. "Too much to think about."

At his words, Sarah's eyes shifted momentarily back to the wrapped sword lying across the table.

"Are we going to give it to him up front, then?" she asked.

Harry looked contemplative for a moment. Sarah knew that he must have been thinking about this during his sleepless night, among other things.

"If we get everything we need out of him up front, I think so," he replied. "We need a lot of information from him. He has to have cased the vault by now to figure out how we're going to get there and get into it. We'll see what he says."

Sarah took a deep breath, nodding.

"And when are we going to-- erm-- you know," Sarah asked, glancing over her shoulder at Kreacher. She wasn't sure if she was supposed to reveal too much information aloud. She was eager to learn when they would actually be going in. It was now Saturday. Christmas Eve was Thursday; they would have to do it before then, in order to spend the holiday with Ron and Ginny's family and then have the two of them, plus Hermione, come to stay with them here.

Harry glanced at Kreacher as well, but he wasn't worried; after the events of the past year, the elf was extremely loyal, and worse come to worst, Harry could simply give the elf an order to not repeat anything he might hear them speaking about.

"We'll play that by ear, too," Harry said, "We know we have until Thursday at least."

Sarah continued with her breakfast in thoughtful silence, trying to eat as much of Kreacher's wonderful food as possible. When she couldn't possibly eat any more, she leaned back in her chair, watching Harry as he kept eating. He ate quite a bit more before he too was stuffed. This was impressive considering he had begun eating before she had even come down into the kitchen.

"Ron would be proud," Sarah remarked.

"True enough," said Harry, smiling down at his clean plate. There was still a feast left upon the table.

"Kreacher," Harry spoke up.

The elf, who was now scrubbing away pots and pans in the large basin of a sink, literally dropped what he was doing with several loud clanks, and turned to his master attentively.

"Yes Master?" he asked.

"Sarah and I are going to be having a visitor shortly," Harry began casually, "So I'd like you to clear the table for us, save as much of this wonderful breakfast as possible, and put out tea for three, please."

"Yes Master, of course, Master," the elf said in his deep bullfrog's voice, bowing low.

"Also, Kreacher," Harry continued, "While our guest is here, I would appreciate it if you could not listen to what we are saying, tell no one of his visit, and if you do happen to overhear us, don't repeat anything to anyone, alright?"

"Anything, Master," the elf affirmed, bowing low again, the large golden locket that he was so very fond of dangling off his neck.

After Harry thanked him, the elf immediately set to work on his master's orders, clearing the table and packing away as much food as possible.

Harry and Sarah, meanwhile, left the kitchen and headed up into the study. After stoking the fireplace into a lively burn again, Harry took a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs. Sarah seated herself cross-legged on the plush rug before the fire, trying to keep from glancing toward the sofa where Snape's black traveling cloak and her bottle of Amortentia lay intertwined with her rumpled bedclothes.

"When should we be expecting him?" Sarah asked, glancing to Harry.

"Sooner rather than later, I would think," he replied, staring into the fire.

Sarah sighed, turning back to the fireplace. Faced with being away from Hogwarts for several weeks over the holidays, something had been on her mind; something that she wanted to ask Harry. No time like the present, she thought to herself. If Harry didn't know that her depression was Snape-related by now, which he most likely did, he was about to find out for sure.

"Harry," Sarah began quietly without looking away from the fire, "Do you... do you know where he... where Severus lives?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't been expecting her to bring the topic of Snape up at all, let alone ask where he lives. Sarah took Harry's momentary silence as uncertainty.

"He does have a home, doesn't he?" she asked, her voice extremely quiet, "You know, outside of Hogwarts?" After she asked, she sighed. I'm so stupid, she thought to herself. Why couldn't I ever have asked him myself?

"I know where he lives," Harry replied, his tone gentle and understanding, "Sort of, anyway..."

Harry thought hard to himself for a moment, recalling one of the memories that had shocked him so deeply to witness; one of the memories that Snape had handed over to him in the Shrieking Shack, thinking himself finished.

Clear images formed in his mind, images of the memory he had seen; he recalled a small Muggle village where a single huge chimney dominated the skyline... a small, deserted playground where two young girls were at play, unaware that they were being watched by the pale, stringy, black-haired boy hiding in the bushes. He thought even harder, recalling his juvenile aunt's scathing words...

"I know who you are! You're that Snape boy! They live on Spinner's End, down by the river."

"I don't know the name of the town," Harry started after his mental interlude, "But I know what it looks like. And he lives on a street there called Spinner's End, down by a river. At least that's where he lived when he was a little kid, anyway. I'm not sure if he still does, but he might."

Sarah nodded silently, still staring into the fire. She wasn't quite sure why she wanted to know. Part of her wanted to try going to see him at his home, perhaps on Christmas Eve; but she could only imagine the additional heartbreak if he were to slam the door on her. She wanted desperately to make things right, but she wasn't sure how to do it. On top of that, according to Harry, there was no guarantee that he actually lived in that place anymore. If he wasn't there, then both of them hadn't the slightest clue where he might live outside of the castle.

Harry watched Sarah as she stared into the fire. Thinking to himself, he correctly deduced that Sarah was toying with the idea of trying to visit Snape sometime over the holidays.

When he was about to open his mouth and suggest attempting such a visit, they were both interrupted from their thoughts by a loud, pounding knock on the door.

Their guest had arrived.

They both looked to each other immediately, and then sprang to their feet, racing out of the study and down the stairs. Reaching the door, Harry tapped it with his wand and watched as the series of locks undid themselves in succession, clicking and clanking loudly. When they were all unlocked, he reached for the door handle. With one last silent glance to Sarah, he opened the door.

There on the top step stood Griphook, many heads shorter than either of them, and looking just about as pleased to see Harry as he had been during their last encounter. He glowered at Harry, his sharp little eyes then darting to the long-haired girl standing beside him.

"Harry Potter," the goblin said tersely.

Harry nodded, stepping aside to allow him entry.

"Come in," Harry said, motioning inside.

Griphook entered, eyeing the entrance hall suspiciously. He did not bother to remove his shoes or coat; apparently he thought that he wouldn't be here very long.

Harry closed the door behind him, motioning the way down to the basement kitchen.

"I was thinking we would sit at the kitchen table," Harry said in as friendly a manner as possible. He led Griphook down into the kitchen, Sarah following after them.

Kreacher, as ordered, had set out tea for three and cleared the rest of the table. The elf was now continuing his work on the cooking utensils from breakfast, scrubbing away in the sink, and seeming to take no notice of the people who had joined him in the kitchen. When Griphook spied the elf, he eyed Harry as he seated himself at the table. Harry and Sarah seated themselves across from him.

"I must admit that I did not expect the great Harry Potter to be the keeper of a house-elf slave," Griphook commented caustically.

"He's not a slave," Harry countered, his tone serious, giving Griphook a slightly impatient glare. "He wouldn't know what to do with himself if I set him free. He's lived here all his life. This is where he wants to be. He's happier this way, and all of this is beside the point."

Griphook glared back silently, apparently willing to drop the subject. Although tea had been set out for him, he seemed to take no notice of it. Instead, his eyes immediately traveled to the sword, still lying wrapped at the end of the table; as they came to rest on it, they glinted greedily.

"Well, then," Harry began, trying to pull the goblin's attention away from the object of his desire, "You know what we want. What do you have to tell us?"

Griphook tore his eyes away from the sword, looking back to Harry. Before speaking, his eyes again darted to Sarah momentarily.

"Many things," the goblin admitted, his voice in a down-to-business tone. He leaned forward as if to speak to them, but paused, eyeing Kreacher who was still busy scrubbing away in the sink.

"Don't worry," Harry said, guessing the reason behind the hesitation, "He's been ordered not to overhear us, and if he does, he's also been ordered not to repeat anything or tell anyone that you were here."

"I see," Griphook replied. "In that case, there are many things that you will be interested to know."

Both Harry and Sarah nodded attentively.

"The vault which you desire to access," Griphook began, "Is vault number four-hundred-and-eight. It should come as a slight relief to you that it is not nearly as deep in the complex or as well-secured by the bank as your last quarry. It is, however, being attended by no fewer than three Ministry security personnel at all times. Though this may seem like a disadvantage, it will actually serve as a boon to you."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, now leaning forward in his seat.

"The wizards, not attracted to the prospect of being dependent upon Gringotts goblins to unlock their vault at will, or being privy to its contents for that matter, opted for a keyed vault instead of a higher-security vault which requires the touch of a Gringotts goblin to open," Griphook explained. "I have checked, and this means that one of the Ministry security personnel present guarding the vault at all times possesses a key."

"So what do you suggest?" Harry pressed.

Griphook reached inside his coat. Out from it he pulled several large rolls of parchment, a quill, and a small bottle of black ink. He set them on the table before him.

"On this endeavor, Harry Potter, I will provide you with access, and access only, to the bank's vault complex," Griphook stated. "This means that I will get you past the door within the bank's main hall which leads down into the vaults, and nothing more. Once you are past that door, you are left to your own devices."

Harry was about to speak, but Griphook spoke up again.

"Before you protest," the goblin insisted, "I will not leave you to grope blindly in the dark of the bank's many mazes. It would be absurd to expect you to successfully find the vault on your own without falling victim to many of the bank's securities and traps."

With this, Harry kept his mouth shut and watched intently as Griphook set to work. For about the next hour, both he and Sarah watched as Griphook drew out complex, detailed maps upon the rolls of parchment which he had set out. He described at length the many pitfalls (both literally and figuratively) the pair would run into on their journey, and how to avoid them. He carefully mapped out for them a route which would bring them to vault 408 in a relatively obstacle-free manner, all the while warning them that it would be a respectable trek. When the goblin felt that he had explained everything thoroughly enough, he stopped, watching Harry, ready to gauge his reactions. Sarah, on one hand, looked highly relieved that there would not be any dragons involved on the higher levels of the bank which they would have to traverse.

Harry, glancing up from the maps on the table, gave a confident nod.

"How and when do you suggest getting us past the door?" he asked.

"I happen to have my own vault within the bank," Griphook explained, "And I might be persuaded to visit it at a precise time, if you follow my meaning. When I set out to do so, I would insure that the door remains open long enough for you to slip by invisibly, I presume. I must stress, however, that once you are past that door, you are on your own, with the instructions I have provided you, of course."

"Sounds fair," said Harry, glancing to Sarah quickly who nodded in agreement.

"Also, I wish to request an addendum to all of this," Griphook stated, eyeing Harry warily.

"Go on,"

"Once you have hopefully exited the bank successfully with whatever your goal may be," said Griphook, sounding more civil than Harry had ever heard him, "I request that you destroy these. Permanently. As I have stated once before, this is considered base treachery." He motioned to the detailed maps that he had inked out on the rolls of parchment.

"Also fair," Harry agreed.

Reaching out, Harry placed a hand on the maps, sliding them over toward his side of the table. Then, he leaned over to the end of the table where the sword lay. Grabbing it by the base of its linen-wrapped blade, he picked it up, and then placed it on the table in front of Griphook, indicating that they had just made some sort of worthy trade. The goblin, well versed in the symbolic gestures of deals and trading, gave a nod.

Before either touching or eyeing the prize before him, Griphook spoke again.

"When, then, Harry Potter, do you desire the door to open for you, so to speak?" asked the goblin.

Harry thought to himself for a moment. They did have until Thursday, but in truth, Harry wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. He never could stand the wait before these things. Also, he realized, in case anything were to go wrong, they would want to leave the bank under cover of darkness.

"Tomorrow," said Harry, "Four in the afternoon." It should already be getting dark then, Harry knew, and by the time they might leave, it would most certainly be as good as night outside.

After making his proclamation of a definite time, he glanced to Sarah, wanting to be sure that she had no objections. She looked slightly pale and a bit nervous, but when Harry turned to her, she nodded at him. He turned back to the goblin.

"Very well then," said Griphook, "Tomorrow at four o'clock it is. The door will open for you."

Agreeing to the finalization of the terms, the goblin reached out toward his prize, his small, long-fingered hands quaking slightly in anticipation. For now, he was content merely to caress the sword's contours through its wrapping; when he would get it home, however, he would enjoy taking his time inspecting every inch of it thoroughly.

Sarah remained seated at the kitchen table while Harry saw Griphook out. The kitchen was now empty aside from her; Kreacher must have finished his cleaning while she and Harry had been engrossed by Griphook's map-making. None of them, she realized, had touched their tea.

When Harry returned, he was looking extremely satisfied. Aside from the initial touchiness over Kreacher, Griphook had been remarkably more cordial than Harry had expected of him. Seating himself across from Sarah in the chair that Griphook had just left, Harry pulled the maps over to himself and began poring over them. Sarah sipped her cold tea silently.

While Harry looked completely at ease, the issue of giving the priceless sword away for her sake was still weighing heavily on her.

"Aren't you going to miss it?" she asked at last.

Harry looked up at her, perplexed.

"Blimey, no," Harry said, "I'm glad he's gone, aren't you?"

Sarah smirked.

"Not the goblin," she clarified, "The sword."

"Oh," Harry replied, "We've already been through this, Sarah, I don't mind at all, remember? Stop troubling yourself over it."

Sarah sighed and nodded, still not feeling entirely assuaged.

The rest of the day was spent planning and preparing. The two of them pored over the maps together innumerable times, trying to memorize every tiny detail. This way, in the event that they should lose the maps or they should become damaged somehow, they should still remember enough in order to get themselves safely back to the surface. Becoming lost inside Gringotts, as Harry knew, might result in them never coming out again.

There was also some spells practice in the study after supper. Clearing all the furniture to the sides of the room, Harry guided Sarah through the practice of many spells which they might need while down in the bank. The session was a relative success, aside from a few pieces of iced-over furniture and a couple of toppled book cases. Things were easily set right again, and both of them attempted to get to sleep early in preparation for the next day's trials.

Sarah, like she knew Harry must be experiencing, found herself sleepless. She tossed and turned on her softa, wrapping herself tightly in Snape's traveling cloak as if it were an extra blanket. Unlike Harry, however, the prospect of breaking into the infamously tightly-secured bank was secondary on her mind; she was thinking instead of what Severus might be doing at the same exact moment, and wondering forlornly if he had thought about her as well, wondering if he might miss her and if he wished to set things right. Remembering his explosive anger, however, and how coldly he had treated her afterward, her heart ached, and fresh tears found their way onto her pillow.

When she finally drifted off to sleep, she was imagining what the house on Spinner's End might be like, if he still lived there...


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Sarah awoke much later the following morning. Harry, in his eagerness to be fully prepared, had been tempted to wake her, but decided that it was best to let her sleep as much as possible before their adventure. When Sarah opened her eyes, light was streaming into the study. She could already smell that their was food waiting for her in the kitchen. Stretching languidly, she emerged from her sofa-turned-bed and headed downstairs.

Just as she thought she would find, Harry was already seated at the kitchen table with Griphook's detailed maps sprawled out before him. He was leaned forward very far, his eyes only inches from the parchment as he meticulously inspected them, trying to memorize every detail. He was so intent on his preparation that he took no notice of Sarah until she spoke up.

"Don't you think we've spent enough time looking over that?" she asked, seating herself across the table from him. Kreacher, apparently, was already busy with his other household duties as he was not present in the kitchen, but the table was still laid out with an impressive spread of food. Sarah helped herself to a generous amount.

Harry looked up at her as she seated herself and began helping herself to breakfast.

"Can't be too prepared," he told her, turning his eyes back down to the maps. "I don't think you fancy getting lost down there, and neither do I. You've no idea how massive it is. We might never find our way out if we get lost."

Harry was right; she definitely didn't fancy that idea. Somehow, however, she felt pretty safe about going into this with him. Harry, it seemed, could pull off just about anything. She ate her breakfast quietly, watching him as he continued poring over the maps. As far as she could tell, he had been here quite a while. There was an empty plate next to him, as well as another plate of food that looked half-eaten, and also an empty coffee mug.

"Did you sleep at all?" Sarah inquired after a while.

"Of course not," Harry said amusedly. "I did try though, so you have to give me some credit."

Sarah laughed to herself as she imagined Harry pacing back and forth in his room into all hours of the night, maps in hand, planning for every possible scenario. Even though she wished that he could have gotten some rest, she was glad that he was planning so thoroughly.

"What are we going to do once we actually get down to the vault?" she asked.

Harry glanced up at her again, looking contemplative. He had spent so much time planning how to get down there that he hadn't yet put much thought into what they would do when they actually got there.

"Based on what Griphook said," he began, "It sounds like there isn't really much we can do beside stun the guards, figure out which one of them has the key, and get in and out before they come around. All this without them getting a good look at us, of course."

Sarah nodded, but did not reply. She was fearful of what might happen down there; what if they ended up having to literally fight their way out of the bank? She sighed. She could only imagine the kinds of things Snape would have to say about this little plan. Breaking into the Ministry had been dangerous, but this plan was almost mad.

"And what if he doesn't open the door for us?" Sarah asked.

"I thought about that too," Harry admitted, "But a goblin wouldn't renege on his word. Besides, even if he decides to, nothing says we can't stand around waiting for someone else to open the door and slip inside then."

As the day wore on into the afternoon, the pair continued planning, trying to be sure that every minute detail was thought of. At a quarter past three, it was time for their departure. They were standing in the entrance hall, running over a sort of inventory check.

"Decoy Detonators?" Harry asked.

Sarah opened her robe, displaying an inside pocket. Inside of it there were two Decoy Detonators.

"Check," Sarah replied.

"Darkness powder?"

Sarah opened the other side of her robe; another inside pocket was bulging with the inky black powder.

"Check," she said.

"Invisibility cloak?"

Harry reached inside his own pocket this time, removing the silky, rippling material.

"Check," he said, stowing it away again. "Wands?"

Sarah held up her wand in her right hand, and Harry did as well. With a nod, both of them stowed their wands inside their robes.

"Maps?" Sarah asked.

Harry nodded, opening his robe and showing her a large interior pocket. The rolls of parchment on which Griphook had drawn his detailed maps were carefully folded and tucked inside.

"And finally," Harry said, "Hoods. We'll need them in case we're seen somehow."

Sarah nodded. She was already wearing Snape's large black cloak with and amply-sized hood. Harry turned to his right, removing a traveling cloak of his own from a hook on the wall next to the door. He draped it over himself, securing it tightly.

"Ready, then?" he asked.

"Ready," Sarah replied with as much confidence as she could muster.

With this, the two of them stepped out of the door. Once Harry had re-locked it behind them, both of them Disapparated from the top step.

When they reappeared in the dark London alleyway along Charing Cross Road, Harry's arm shot forth, stopping Sarah before she could step out onto the sidewalk.

"Hoods up," he explained, "We don't need anyone knowing we were even in the vicinity."

"Good point," Sarah agreed, pulling the large hood over her head. It concealed her completely.

Once Harry had pulled up his own hood, they both stepped out onto the street. It was another gray afternoon in London. The few times that Sarah had been here, she doubted she had seen it look any other way. There was less snow here than there had been up north at Hogwarts; only a small dusting of it lay in untouched corners of the sidewalks, and a small amount of slush rested next to the curbs in the salted streets. Both of them walked at a hurried pace to the Leaky Cauldron. They looked quite a bit more peculiar than normal walking down the Muggle street with their hoods pulled up. The less eyes they drew, the better.

When they reached Diagon Alley, they relaxed their pace. Their attire wasn't peculiar here, even though it might be considered a bit odd to walk about with one's hood on; outside of Knockturn Alley, at least.

It was Sunday afternoon, and Diagon Alley was bustling. With Christmas Eve on Thursday, many witches and wizards were scrambling to finish their holiday shopping. When she could, Sarah would sneak glances out from under her hood, wistfully examining all of the holiday decorations. If they were here under normal circumstances, she would have loved to visit all of the interesting shops in their holiday decor. There were lights everywhere, in such number and varying colors that Sarah had never seen in any Muggle holiday displays. Children ran laughing gleefully through the crowds, towing their parents behind them and pointing in shop windows hopefully. The crowds were thick, and Sarah walked extremely close to Harry to avoid being separated. When they passed by Quality Quidditch Supplies, she definitely saw his head turn. When they got back to Grimmauld Place later, Sarah thought, she would definitely suggest having a normal shopping trip here before Christmas.

When they neared the bank, Harry steered Sarah off toward Knockturn Alley. There they would be able to slip underneath the invisibility cloak more discreetly. The sea of crowds in Diagon Alley was making him nervous; if they were to cause too much of a commotion inside the bank, the shopping crowds might be up in a frenzy, which could make their escape more difficult. When they were safely standing in the shadows of Knockturn Alley, Harry leaned in close to Sarah.

"If anything goes too badly inside, such as either of us being seen," he said, "I want us to get back to Hogwarts instead of going back to Grimmauld Place."

"Back to school?" Sarah whispered back. "But why?"

"If we were to be followed back to Grimmauld Place," Harry said, "It would give us both away. Certain people know where I live, and Professor McGonagall knows you're staying with me."

"But why school?" Sarah whispered. "Isn't that just as obvious?"

"Anyone who might follow us wouldn't be able to track us down inside the Room of Requirement," he explained. As it had been countless times before, it was truly the perfect place to hide. He then reached inside his pocket, slowly removing the invisibility cloak.

"It's going to be a bit of a tight fit with both of us under here," he added, "So just take it really slow."

After a few moments, when he was sure no one was looking, Harry swung the cloak over both of them. When he was sure that they were both completely hidden, they began walking back in the direction of the bank, standing as closely together as possible.

They proceeded slowly and carefully up the bank's marble steps. When they entered the bank hall, it was just as Harry feared. Gringotts, like the rest of Diagon Alley, was fairly crowded. The counters that stretched along either side of the hall were lined with witches and wizards making withdrawals to do their holiday shopping. He felt Sarah grow tense at his side. Together they moved into the un-trafficked center of the hall. Sarah's eyes were nervously darting all about, trying to be sure that no one would suddenly walk into them. Harry's eyes were scanning the teller windows, searching for Griphook. He spotted him easily in the same place where he had found him last time, serving a short witch with curly black hair. He gave Sarah a soft nudge, pointing in the goblin's direction.

When Sarah looked over, the short curly-haired witch had finished her business and stepped away from the counter. Harry raised his wrist between them, sliding up his sleeve to reveal the face of his starry golden watch. Sarah peered down into it; it was only a quarter till four. They still had fifteen nervous minutes to stand about waiting.

They stood perfectly still and invisible in the center of the bank, their eyes intent on Griphook. Harry was patient, but the minutes seemed to crawl by to Sarah, who was extremely nervous. As they stood there, she continued glancing around, ready to alert Harry if someone were about to walk into them. When the time neared, Harry raised his watch again and nudged Sarah. It was one minute until four. Griphook had started to move.

The goblin disappeared from sight when he hopped down from his teller's chair. Harry and Sarah began to walk forward slowly, nearing the huge golden door which led down into the vaults. Two security goblins stood on either side of the large double doors. Griphook approached them casually, with Harry and Sarah only inches behind him now.

"Need to visit my vault for a moment during my break," Griphook announced, holding up a small lantern. He would only be spending a moment down there, and no longer. He intended to be back up in the bank's main hall in full sight off all his brethren before anything went awry down in the vaults.

Granting his request, each of the security goblins grabbed one of the huge doorhandles, pulling the heavy doors open with effort. When the doors were open for him, Griphook hesitated and did not move, which caused the security goblins to eye him impatiently. Apparently they were of the mindset that every second the doors were open was a lapse in their tight security.

Now was their chance. Harry and Sarah quickly and quietly moved around Griphook, slipping past the doors. It was a tight fit; the security goblins had only opened it far enough to allow Griphook entrance. Both breathed a silent sigh of relief once past them, now cloaked in the concealing darkness in addition to their invisibility. Standing aside, they watched as Griphook followed after them. The security goblins slammed the doors shut behind him.

Everything was now silent and almost completely dark, aside from the small lantern that Griphook held. The goblin did not bother to speak or look back before boarding one of the waiting carts sitting on the track before him. Once he was seated inside, he zoomed off. The loudly echoing sound of the cart on the tracks, as well as the dim lantern light, faded away down the sloping passageway.

Harry withdrew his wand.

"Lumos," he whispered, urging Sarah to begin walking alongside him, following the track which sloped downward. "Once we get a bit further in, we can take the cloak off until we get there, I think."

Sarah nodded once, looking forward to being able to move without so much constraint. She followed the guidance of Harry's wandlight as they began their journey down the main passageway. Once they had descended a moderate depth, however, the passageway began branching off into a maze of sub-passages.

"This way," Harry whispered, indicating the correct path with his wandlight.

Once they had entered the small side-tunnel, he pulled the invisibility cloak off of them, and also pulled his hood down. Sarah did the same, drawing out her own wand from inside her robes.

"Lumos," she whispered.

Everything about them, aside from their wandlight, was pitch blackness. All was silent except for the shuffling of their shoes on the narrow stone walkways beside the cart tracks. Soon they began passing by vault doors numbered in the one-hundreds. Sarah directed her wandlight at them as they walked by, admiring their intricate metalwork and interesting-looking locks.

"This doesn't seem so bad," Sarah commented quietly.

"This isn't nearly the worst of it," Harry replied, "Remember how deep down my vault was? We haven't got to go quite that deep, but we still have a ways to go, yet."

Harry was right, Sarah thought. It seemed that they were walking along for quite some time before they began descending again. With the next downward slope, the passageway that they were in split off into even more branches. This time, Harry paused to consult one of the maps to be absolutely sure that they were going the right direction.

Before he could indicate the correct way to go, however, his heart jumped when he heard the loud clanking of a cart coming down the track from behind them. The carts traveled extremely fast. They only had a few seconds at most.

"Nox!" he said, extinguishing his wandlight. "Get down!" he whispered loudly, crouching down and pulling Sarah down with him, who extinguished her own wandlight immediately. As quickly as he could, he flung the invisibility cloak over them.

No more than a second later, a cart sped by them noisily, carrying a goblin and two human occupants, on the way to some unknown vault.

Once the noise of the cart had faded, Harry sighed. Sarah made no noise whatsoever. Her heart was in her throat, and she was trembling visibly.

"No worries," Harry said quietly as he stood again, lighting his wand and pulling the cloak off of them. He extended a hand to Sarah, who allowed herself to be helped to her feet. She looked extremely pale in the wandlight. "We probably should have thought that bit out before."

"You think?" Sarah replied sarcastically. She had quite obviously been terrified that they were about to get caught.

Harry struggled to suppress an amused laugh.

"Well now you know what to do," he said, "As soon as you hear anything coming down the tracks, put out your wand and get down so I can cover us up. This way, then," he said, indicating the correct passage for them to take. Sarah lit her own wand again and proceeded after him.

The next stages of their journey proved more difficult. Although they did not end up having to dodge any more carts coming down into the vaults, the next passageways began descending harshly. They encountered several staircases, if they could even be called as such, which were so cruelly steep and narrow that both of them needed to literally climb down with their lit wands held in their teeth. It grew significantly colder as they ventured deeper, cold enough for both of them to agree that it was colder down here than it had been outside. Their breath condensed in small puffs of fog as they walked along.

On the level where they passed by vaults numbered in the two-hundreds, they found the environment extremely cramped and narrow. In places, Sarah was having to walk behind Harry rather than beside him. Descending harshly again onto the level where there were vaults numbered in the three-hundreds, the passages became a bit more spacious. The space overhead also seemed to heighten, and cold water began dripping down onto them as if it were drizzling. Directing her wandlight upward, Sarah saw huge stalactites on the cavernous ceiling above.

Their next descent was the worst yet, a longer and steeper climb downward. This climb had not been like the others so far. Instead of slightly manicured stone, it seemed as if they were climbing down a jagged cave wall. Now at least, as Harry knew, they should be on the correct level. Having insisted on going down first to be sure of the climb's integrity, he helped Sarah down the last few feet. A longer, larger passage stretched out before them. Harry consulted the map again. According to Griphook's notes, they should now follow the passage straight until they reach a ninety-degree right hand turn. Their desired vault should lie just around that corner.

"Shouldn't be far now," he said, tucking the map back inside his pocket. "Hoods up from here, I think."

Pulling up their hoods, they proceeded forward carefully and quietly. In order to minimize their potential visibility, Sarah extinguished her wandlight. Harry kept his wand lit, but trained the light down at the floor so it would not reach the end of the passageway before them. Soon, however, he extinguished his own light as well. From the end of the passageway, where it turned off to the right, light was glowing. Both of them held their breath when they began hearing voices echoing down the passage as well. Stopping Sarah gently with his arm, Harry again covered both of them with the invisibility cloak. As they neared the corner of the passage, the light was more than bright enough to see by. There were voices talking away, punctuated by a boisterous laugh which echoed.

Before they reached the very edge of the corner, Harry stopped Sarah again, taking the cloak off of her, but still keeping himself concealed within it. When she could no longer see Harry, Sarah blinked, her expression fearful. He leaned in close to her.

"Stay here," he whispered as quietly as possible, "I'm going to look."

Nodding once in acknowledgement, Sarah put her back to the wall and crouched down low against it. Harry, completely concealed by the cloak, peeked out around the corner.

There he could see the large door to the vault numbered 408. On each side of it, a large brazier was lit, its flames filling the area with light. To Harry's delight, there were three men outside of the vault, just as Griphook had said there would be. Two of them were seated in small, uncomfortable-looking chairs on either side of the vault's door, and the third one was pacing in between them. All of them were uniformed; they were definitely Ministry security personnel.

"When's it my turn to sit," the pacing man complained, glaring jealously at his seated comrades.

The man seated on the side of the vault closest to Harry seemed to check a timepiece in his pocket.

"S'not five yet," the man seated closest to Harry replied, his voice gruff. "Your turn starts at five."

"Don't see why they can't just give us three chairs, seeing as there's three of us," said the pacing man, his hands thrust deep in his uniform pockets.

"They want at least one of us to stay alert and on our feet," added the man seated furthest from Harry on the other side of the vault's door.

The pacing man gave an impatient scoff.

"What's the point," he said, his ire for their current assignment quite apparent in the tone of his voice, "It's not as if anyone could possibly get down here, and no one in their right mind would even try. I'm sick of this beat. If I had known Ministry security would mean being stationed down in a goblin-made hole in the ground a mile under London I never would have taken the job."

The man seated closest to Harry rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn'ta taken the job neither if I knew it meant listenin' to you moanin' on abou' it every other nigh'," he said.

This earned him a glare from the pacing man, but he did not reply. He continued pacing back and forth along the walkway in front of the vault.

Harry continued observing them for a few more minutes. As far as he could see, there was not a key openly visible on any of their personages. If he had to take a guess, however, he would wager that the standing guard had the key, as he was in the best and most alert position to defend it against any possible attempts to take it. Perhaps that was why there were only two chairs for three people. As one of the guards had said, one of them needed to be alert and on their feet at all times; maybe this was the same person who held the key.

When he had seen enough, Harry crept back around the corner to where Sarah was seated against the wall. He lowered himself down next to her, opening the cloak to drape it over her so that she could see him. Once she was inside the cloak with him, she looked to him, eager for information.

"There are three of them, just like Griphook said," he whispered as quietly as possible. "Two of them are sitting in chairs on each side of the vault, and one of them is standing in between them. I reckon he's the one that has the key."

"What should we do?" Sarah whispered in reply.

Harry remained silent for a few moments, thinking hard. If they were to attempt distracting them first, with the use of a decoy detonator, they might panic and have enough time to use some means of contacting the bank's security or any other reinforcements that they may have on the surface. Their best bet, he thought, would be to assault all three of them outright; that wouldn't give them any time to do much of anything.

"I think we're going to have to go straight for them," he whispered back. "We can't let them have time to do anything. It's going to take some quick spellwork, but I think we can pull it off."

Sarah nodded once, readying her wand.

"What do you want me to do?" she whispered.

"Stunning should be enough," he replied, "We'll knock each of them out, and then I'll do a little something extra just to be sure. We'll have to do it in unison. You hit the guard in the chair closest to us, and I'll hit the standing one. Then I want you to hit the other seated one. Once they're down, I'll search the middle one for a key. I think he has it, but I want you to check the others as well just in case. Once we've got it, I want you to take it and unlock the vault while I take an extra precaution on them. When it's open and I'm finished, we'll go in together, got it?"

"Got it," Sarah affirmed.

"Alright," Harry said, standing up with Sarah and keeping the cloak over both of them. "When we get around the corner, I'm going to count to three. On three, the cloak is coming off. Don't hesitate. Stun instantly."

Sarah gripped her wand tightly in her hand as she slowly rounded the corner with Harry, concealed by the invisibility cloak. Her heart had begun to race uncontrollably. Never since sneaking into the Ministry had she attacked anyone with anything, and even then, her target had been Confunded first. Doubts were racing through her mind. What if I miss? What if I hit them and don't knock them out? When she realized just how tightly she was gripping her wand, she forced herself to loosen her grip for fear that she might snap it like a pencil.

When they were situated around the corner, Harry began counting in a faint, almost inaudible whisper.

"One..."

Sarah swallowed hard, her eyes focused on the guard seated in the chair closest to her.

"Two..."

Her heart was thundering madly inside her chest. There was no turning back now. She couldn't hesitate, even for a split second. The hand holding her wand twitched slightly.

"Three,"

Instantly on three, Harry tore the invisibility cloak off of them in a whirl of rippling fabric. Their arms shot forth.

"Stupefy!" they both shouted in unison, sending jets of red light at their targets.

Both of their spells hit the mark; Sarah had blasted the closest guard out of his chair and back into the vault door. He dropped to the ground and did not move. The standing guard, hit by Harry's spell, was blasted off of his feet, flying back and hitting the ground hard. The third guard could do little more than jerk his head in the direction of the two cloaked figures that had appeared out of nowhere before Sarah's wand had turned on him, too. He was blasted out of his chair, hitting the wall behind him and sliding to the ground, unmoving.

"Quick!" Harry said, running forward and coming to kneel next to the unconscious guard who had been standing only moments before. He immediately began searching his person. Sarah followed suit, hurrying forward to the unconscious guard closest to her and beginning to search.

It was only a few seconds before Harry gasped, and then announced triumphantly,

"I've got it!" he said, plucking a small golden key from the guard's breast pocket.

Sarah sprang to her feet instantly, turning to Harry, who tossed the key to her. It arced and spun through the air gracefully, glinting in the firelight of the braziers before Sarah caught it with both hands. She then jumped to the door of the vault, holding the key in her right hand and placing her left hand flat against the locking mechanism. It was so complex that it took her several seconds to realize that there were many keyholes arranged in a circular pattern upon the face of the vault.

"There's a bunch of keyholes, Harry! Which one--," she began frantically, but Harry cut her off.

"All of them!" he shouted back.

Sarah immediately set to work on the locks, inserting the small golden key into one keyhole after another and turning it. Each turn of they key triggered a symphony of metallic clicks and clanks emanating from within the vault's doors.

While Sarah was unlocking the vault, Harry got to his feet again, wand raised. He pointed it first to the guard before him.

"Incarcerous!" he yelled, ropes springing into existence from the tip of his wand and binding themselves around the guard's unconscious form. He repeated this with each of the other guards until all of them were bound up tightly. If they were to come around before he and Sarah were at a safe distance, they would have ropes to contend with before they were free to give chase.

When his work was finished, he turned to Sarah, still working away at the vault's door. She was just turning the small golden key in the last keyhole. There was an echoing clang. He jumped forward, grabbing Sarah by the shoulder and pulling her back just as the vault's enormous door split down the middle and swung open with sonorous creaks.

"The key," Harry breathed, looking to Sarah, "Leave it."

They key immediately dropped from Sarah's hand, tinkling on the stone floor when it fell. When the vault doors had stopped moving, Harry raised his wand again, and Sarah imitated him.

"Lumos," they both said, illuminating their wands to shine forth into the vault.

Harry could have laughed. The Ministry couldn't have possibly made it any easier for them. There, standing in the center of the vault, was the filing cabinet which Harry had visited in the Hall of Records inside the Obliviator Headquarters. His heart leapt with joy and exhilaration. He had missed having this kind of rush in his normal day-to-day Voldemort-free life.

"Second drawer from the top!" he said, motioning forward, "Come on!"

Both of them rushed forward, unaware that the guard that Harry had stunned began stirring behind them.

Arriving at the cabinet, Harry's hand moved for the handle of the drawer second to the top. He pulled hard on it, but to his dismay, it did not open. Sarah looked to him, wide-eyed in panic, but he could not see her expression from underneath her hood.

"They must have locked it, too," he said quickly, sounding out of breath, "Stand back!"

Sarah stepped back from the cabinet. Harry waved his wand at the drawer, shouting,

"Alohomora!"

His shout drowned out the quiet utterances of "Diffindo" from behind them.

Harry's spell hit the cabinet with such force that it rocked. For a moment, Sarah jerked forward, fearful that the entire thing would topple over backwards. When the cabinet stilled, their desired drawer slid all the way open. Harry had only a split second to admire his success.

"HEY!" came a shout from behind them. Both Harry and Sarah looked back instantly; the guard which Harry had stunned was gaining his feet, the ropes which Harry had conjured around him sliding off as he stood, having been cut in several places. The guard's arm shot forth, wand-in-hand.

Sarah was paralyzed with fear, but Harry reacted quickly, waving his own wand.

"Protego!" he shouted. Harry did not hear what spell the guard had thrown at them, but it was successfully deflected. "Get it!" he shouted at Sarah, who still hadn't moved, "All the way in the back, get it!"

Sarah snapped back into reality as Harry had shouted at her. He had now begun dueling with the guard in earnest. Flashes and sparks illuminated the dark vault as spells were exchanged and deflected. Turning back to the cabinet, she dove for the open drawer. Her wandlight shining down into it, she saw something in the very back of the drawer; another file, it seemed, but with something awkwardly-sized sticking out of it as if it didn't quite fit into the folder. Her empty hand sprang forward, plucking it from the drawer.

Just as she had pulled her hand free, one of the guard's spells made it past Harry, striking the open drawer. Sarah leapt back in reflex, watching as the spell struck the drawer, causing it to jam itself shut with extreme force. It left a deep dent in the drawer's metal, which smoked slightly.

"I've got it!" she shouted to Harry, who was intent on slinging spells at the guard. She raised her own wand to help him, slashing it in the guard's direction; she evoked no verbal spell, but the guard was flung back with incredible force, flying up off of his feet and landing hard on the cart tracks behind him.

As soon as the guard was down, Harry turned to her. He clearly saw the folder clutched in her left hand, something awkwardly sticking out of it.

"Let's go!" he yelled to her, motioning forward.

He took off, running straight out of the vault and taking a hard left. Sarah followed after him, running as quickly as she could, and stowing whatever she had stolen from the drawer securely inside her robes. For good measure, she also scooped out a measure of darkness powder from her inside pocket, tossing it behind her blindly.

Together they dashed as quickly as they both could down the stone walkway back toward where they knew they would have to climb. Not a moment later, there were shouts coming from behind them. With a quick glance over their shoulders, they could see three wandlights bobbing along the passageway in pursuit of them. Another guard must have gotten up and Rennervated his fellows.

"Here!" Harry panted, trying to force the invisibility cloak onto Sarah as they ran along. To his dismay, she forced it back on him, trying to cover him with it.

"No!" she shouted back, "People know who you are! You'll be recognized! No one knows who I am if I get seen!"

Without time to argue, Harry reluctantly agreed to her logic and swung the invisibility cloak over himself.

A streak of white light zipped down the corridor from behind them; it struck Sarah squarely in the back. She suddenly felt as if she had been hit in the back by a heavy object. Losing her balance, she fell forward onto the hard stone. Before she could react, invisible hands were helping her to her feet and pulling her along in the direction they were headed. As she regained her feet, she slashed her wand in the direction the spell had come from.

"Stupefy!" she shouted, sending a red streak of light back toward them in retaliation. She must have hit one of them, for there was a cry of pain, and one of the wandlights tumbled to the ground and was extinguished.

"Come on!" Harry yelled, pulling her forward.

They continued sprinting toward the steep climb ahead, two guards in hot pursuit.

"Now, just like we practiced!" Harry yelled suddenly, turning his head over his shoulder and waving his wand behind them as they ran.

"Aguamenti!" he shouted, sending a jet of water onto the walkway behind them from underneath the invisibility cloak.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, pointing her wand toward the water Harry had just created.

"Glacialis!" she shouted. A chill wind escaped from the tip of her wand, full of crystallized ice particles; when they came into contact with the huge puddle Harry had created, they froze it solid.

Several strides of running later, there came another shout from behind them, and another wandlight clattered to the floor and was extinguished. The third one, however, continued to chase after them, having managed to avoid the dangerous patch of ice. A streak of red light soared over Sarah's shoulder and continued on along the passageway, striking the climb before them. There it exploded, sending small chunks of stone at them as they reached it. The cavernous, rocky wall towered before them, even more daunting than it had been on the way down. Climbing down, they realized, had been easy. Climbing back up would be a trial, especially with a guard after them.

Harry glanced back with fright at the wandlight which was nearly upon them. Under the cloak, he was concealed and would be able to climb in relative safety. Sarah, however, would surely be shot down if she tried to climb, and there was no possible way that they would both be able to stay concealed underneath the cloak while climbing. It would be hard enough for Harry to keep it over his own climbing form. It seemed that they had reached a dead end. They were cornered. They would have to attack the guard again. Harry spun toward him, aiming his curse from under the cloak.

"Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted, but his curse missed in the darkness, perhaps only by inches; the light was still gaining on them.

Sarah, it seemed, had other plans. A risky idea had formed in her head. She knew there was no time to climb, but who said she had to climb? A particularly unusual magic skill which she had learned from Snape might be her lifesaver here. She had nowhere near perfected it, but this might just be within her realm of possibility. She would not be strong enough to carry Harry with her; she would be afraid of losing him on the way up. She could, however, buy him the time to climb up in safety.

"Stop!" she yelled to him. "You climb! Start climbing!"

Harry turned to Sarah in confusion, just in time to see her slashing her wand in a downward arc.

"Volo Absque Alatus!" she shouted.

Harry watched, wide-eyed, as Sarah seemed to literally leap into the air, effortlessly soaring upward. She cleared about three quarters of the climb in a single jump before whatever power she was using gave way, forcing her to latch herself onto the rocky wall. Without looking back, Harry shoved his wand into his robe and began to climb up after her as quickly as he could. He held a part of the invisibility cloak in his teeth as he went to keep it from slipping off of him. Above him he could see Sarah hauling herself over the climb's precipice.

When he was several feet up, wandlight shone up at him from below, telling him that the guard had reached the bottom of the climb. Harry was climbing as fast as he could, but if the guard were to attempt to climb, and climb faster than him, he would be discovered. He climbed as quickly as he could, not caring that he was scraping himself on the jagged stone, or that glimpses of his hands and feet were probably visible here and there.

Sarah looked down from the top as the wandlight shone up from below, thinking the same thing.

"Stupefy!"

A stun from Sarah crackled past Harry, only missing him by inches. The guard at the bottom dodged it. The spell hit the ground beside him and caused another small explosion of rock.

When Harry looked up again in his climb, having reached the halfway point, his green eyes widened in shock.

Sarah, who was leaning over the edge of the climb in order throw spells at the guard and keep him from climbing up behind him, had lost her hood. The guard's wandlight was now shining straight up at her like a spotlight.

"Hood!" he yelled up at her, continuing to climb. She had surely been seen, he realized, but he prayed that she was high enough up that all the guard had seen was a fairly nondescript glimpse of her.

Sarah gasped, jumping back from the edge of the climb and pulling her hood up over her head. She must have lost it while flying as high up the jump as she possibly could. With her hood on once again, she leaned back over the edge, slashing her wand in the guard's direction. So far she had managed to keep him from trying to climb up after them, but she had to be sure that he would not follow.

"Petrificus Totalus!" she yelled.

Hitting her mark, she watched as the guard suddenly froze in his motions. It appeared that he had just been about to throw a spell back up at her. In his paralysis, his wand clattered to the ground and was extinguished, leaving them in the safety of the darkness. When she could hear Harry nearing the top of the climb, she groped over the edge blindly, hoping to find some part of him. He grasped her arm, and she helped to pull him up.

"Come on," he panted, regaining his feet at the top of the climb, "We've got to get out of here!"

The pair continued running as quickly as they could. Harry had taken out one of the maps and was consulting it as they went, less confident about traversing their path backwards with such haste. He directed them back along through the passages which they had come through on their way down. He became confident that they were headed in the right direction when they had to duck to the side several times and conceal themselves underneath the invisibility cloak; several carts sped by noisily. They passed by too quickly to get a good look at them, but from what Harry could tell, they were carrying Gringotts goblins and more Ministry security personnel. Somehow one of the guards that had pursued them had managed to contact the surface and alert them of the security breach.

The trek back up to the surface, which seemed to have taken them ages on the way down, went much more quickly at full sprint with the occasional pause to elude oncoming carts full of Gringotts security. Both secure underneath the invisibility cloak, they found the large doors which lead back into the bank hall wide open. The bank was frenzied. Goblins and wizards were running every which way, more and more of them boarding carts to head down to the vault which had been broken in to. Shouts and yells pervaded the air. Witches and wizards that had been waiting in line to get their gold were being ushered out of the bank.

Harry tugged on Sarah's arm.

"Quick!" he whispered, "We have to get out before they close it all together!"

They passed back into the bank hall as quickly as they could, carefully dodging oncoming security goblins. When the bank's front doors were being shut in front of them, they broke into a run. They only just managed to slip outside when the bank's burnished bronze doors clanged shut loudly behind them. The bank was now on complete lockdown in an effort to prevent the unknown thieves from escaping. Unfortunately for them, they already had.

Just as Harry had feared, Diagon Alley was in an uproar. There was a line of goblins at the foot of the bank's steps, keeping witches and wizards away from it. People were running this way and that, looking fearful.

"They're saying there's been a break-in!" shouted one wizard above the crowd. "It's all over the Wizarding Wireless!"

Harry tugged Sarah forward again. Together they descended the steps and carefully slipped past the line of goblins. The crowds out front were thick, however, and both of them had to literally plow through people in order to get through. Then, it was a quick trot back to the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was almost completely empty. Its patrons must have rushed outside into Diagon Alley to try and hear more about the goings-on at the bank.

A few minutes later, when they reached the alleyway into which they had Apparated earlier, Harry seized Sarah's arm and pulled both of them into the crushing blackness.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When they reappeared, they were amidst the trees at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts, their sanctuary, its lit windows shining like diamonds in the darkness, lay ahead of them. Without speaking they immediately broke into a run up the snowy lawns and toward the castle, Harry having pulled the cloak off of them as soon as they reappeared. They were both panting heavily and quite out of breath, their lungs and their legs burning, but their drive to reach the safety of the Room of Requirement drove them onward, running strong.

"I'm such an idiot!" Sarah choked out as they ran. "I got myself seen, I'm such an idiot!"

"You said it yourself," Harry struggled to gasp out in between pants. His throat was almost completely dry. The frozen night air tore at him. "No one knows who you are!

"But now they know what I look like!" Sarah groaned. "They'll be looking for me!"

"Don't worry," Harry tried to assure her, "You were so far up, I bet that guard bloke barely saw what you look like."

"I hope so," Sarah replied, her tone slightly calmer. She had been pretty far up. Maybe the guard hadn't gotten a good look at her.

"You flew!" Harry yelled at her, sounding thrilled and exhilarated. "Where in the bloody hell did you learn to do that? I didn't know you could do that!"

"Severus taught me," she explained, unable to keep herself from smiling at her friend's evident amazement.

Harry blinked, recalling vividly how Snape had literally flown from one of the castle's windows that night so long ago, before he had discovered the truth about him.

"Blimey, that's incredible!" Harry exclaimed. They were near to the castle now. "No more talking until we get into your room," he added, "We don't need anyone overhearing us."

They both remained as silent as their winded breathing would allow, sprinting all the way through the castle until they reached the seventh floor corridor. Stepping out in front of the blank stretch of wall, Sarah paced back and forth frantically, screaming inside her mind.

I need my room, for God's sake, I need my room!

When the ornately-carved wooden door appeared, both of them lunged for the door's handle. Harry got there first, flinging the door open. Once Sarah had run inside, he followed after her, slamming the door behind them.

As soon as Harry shut the door, he pulled his hood down. Leaning forward and grasping his knees with his hands, he panted hard. He could barely remember being this out-of-breath. His heart was racing, and he was trembling with sheer adrenaline. He watched as Sarah pulled her own hood down, leaning against the far wall as she too struggled to catch her breath.

There they stood for several minutes, unspeaking, simply trying to catch their breath. Before a single word was said, Sarah turned away from Harry, toward her desk. Slowly she opened her robe, taking out the folder that they had stolen. It looked similar to the folders that they had taken from the Ministry, except for its oddly-shaped contents and the fact that it was lacking a name on the tab where a name should have been. Her fingers trembling, she placed the folder down on her desk and opened it.

Inside there was only one item: a single, long strip of aged-looking parchment. It was quite long, despite having been folded over in half. Its edges all around it were ragged and torn, as if it were a page that had been ripped from a book. Whatever secret lie inside this folder was on the inside of this strip of folded parchment. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sarah unfolded it.

Her panting breath caught in her throat. Her heart might have stopped. Her eyes were wide and glassy, pupils constricted in shock.

Harry, having almost caught his breath, finally spoke.

"Blimey that was close," he breathed, his sharp green eyes turning to Sarah. She was facing away from him, standing before her desk. She did not move or reply, or otherwise give any sign that she had heard him. "Wasn't it?"

Sarah couldn't hear him. Her ears were ringing. Her head felt dizzy and light, and it seemed as if her room was swimming around her.

"Sarah?" Harry asked, straightening up and taking another heavy breath. She still did not move or reply. "Are you alright?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

Now completely oblivious to Harry's presence, Sarah refolded the strip of parchment and gripped it tightly in her hand, crumpling it slightly. She then turned on her heel and strode straight past him, opening the door and slamming it behind her. Harry, bewildered, spent several seconds staring at the back of the door before he sprang into movement again, diving for the handle and jumping out into the corridor.

When he shut the door behind him, he saw that Sarah was already turning the corner and passing out of his sight. His mouth dropped open in confusion, his brows furrowed. He raced after her, his arm outstretched.

"Wait!" he yelled after her, skidding around the corner. She was already turning another corner. She was taking the same exact route that they had just taken to get up to the Room of Requirement. "Wait, where are you going?" he shouted, giving chase. Where the bloody hell is she going? he thought to himself, Is she leaving? What's gotten into her?

Before he had left her room, he hadn't looked to see what she had been examining at her desk. He had no idea what she had seen.

Harry had to break into a quick jog as he followed after her, even though it seemed that she was only walking at an extremely brisk pace. Soon he was chasing her back down the snowy castle lawn, back over the fresh footprints that they had left only minutes before on their way up to the Room of Requirement.

"Wait!" he yelled after her again. "Where are you going? You can't leave, they might be looking for you! Wait!"

His desperate shouts to stop her echoed in the winter night's silence, falling mutely on Sarah's ears which were now deaf to everything but her own singular purpose. Harry had just reached inside his robe to touch his wand, toying with the idea of stopping her forcibly. He had no idea what she was doing, but he knew that it was extremely dangerous for her to be out in the open. She had been seen, but he wasn't sure how clearly. For all they knew, descriptions of her and sketches could already be circulating throughout the magical community in Britain.

Before he could act, however, he realized that they had just stepped over the school's bounds. Harry stopped in his tracks, watching as Sarah continued to walk on for several more paces. Then, she too stopped, perfectly still. Harry breathed a short-lived sigh of relief until she began to move again, and he immediately realized what she was doing.

She was turning on the spot. She was going to Disapparate.

"No!" he shouted, dashing forward as quickly as he could. He lunged forward with all of his might.

He felt his arms close tightly around Sarah's midsection just as she completed her turn. Clinging to her tightly, he was pulled along with her back into the crushing blackness of Apparition, his destination unknown.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When they rematerialized, the momentum of Harry's would-be tackle had carried through their Apparition. Sarah was flung to the ground, Harry resting on top of her. Harry picked up his head, but before he had time to speak or register anything about his surroundings, the girl underneath him shoved him off of her roughly. He was pushed back hard onto what felt like pavement. Sarah was immediately on her feet, and without stopping to so much as glance at him, she was walking off. Harry sat up quickly, and in Sarah's wake, watched as what appeared to be an oblong piece of paper fluttered to the ground beside him.

He scooped it up as he stood, taking stock of his surroundings. Sarah had apparently taken them into a small, suburban Muggle neighborhood, not unlike Little Whinging. He was standing in the middle of a drive, a sidewalk on either side of him. Rows of little two-story homes stretched onward on either side of the street. Just as the houses on Privet Drive had all looked very similar to each other, so did these houses, but not quite as severely. Most of them were gaily decorated with colorful, blinking holiday lights and other festive fixtures. The street and sidewalks were clear, but there was quite a bit more snow here than there had been in London. The lawns of the Muggle houses were completely white, and the roofs and trees were all covered as well. Behind him was an intersection, where three more little residential streets branched off.

Why did she bring us here?

The neighborhood was quiet. The night here, just as it had been up at the castle, was crisp, cold, and clear. The moon, almost half waned, was large and bright in the sky, and the stars were numerous and twinkling. The moon was shining so brightly that Harry doubted that he even needed the Muggle street lamp hovering above him in order to see. Still, he glanced up at it. Just below the lamp, there we street signs pointing in four different directions, indicating the different drives branching off from the four-way intersection. Pushing his glasses a bit farther up his nose, he examined them more closely.

The sign pointing toward the drive down which Sarah had stalked away read,

Archer Crescent

Harry tilted his head at it, narrowing his eyes and furrowing his brows. Why did that sound familiar?

When he realized how long he had been standing there idly, he began trotting down Archer Crescent in search of Sarah. As he went, he remembered the small scrap of paper he held in his hand. It appeared that Sarah had dropped it after shoving him off of her and walking away. He unfolded it curiously, wondering what it could be. When he came under another street lamp on his way down the drive, he glanced down at it.

He stopped in his tracks.

His mouth dropped open again. He raised it to his eyes, reading it carefully.

There, upon what looked like a neatly torn piece of aged-looking parchment, were large letters neatly scrawled out in bright red ink.

Sarah Garrend 12 Archer Crescent, Spelthorne, Surrey

Harry shook his head slowly.

No... that can't be...

Harry folded the piece of parchment along its crease, shoving it into his pocket and continuing forward. Hopefully he no longer had to wonder where Sarah had gotten to. He continued walking along the drive, counting the numbers of the houses on the even-numbered side to his left.

"Six," he whispered to himself, "Eight... Ten... Twelve."

Sure enough, there she was.

Sarah was standing before the small Muggle house, her dark, silhouetted form framed in the warm light flooding out of the house's large front window. She stood there on the lawn, ankle-deep in snow, standing in the center of the window, as close as she could stand to it before the short row of bushes planted along the front of the house prevented her from coming any closer without trampling them. She was perfectly still and silent.

Harry slowly approached her, trudging through the snow on the lawn. Saying nothing, he came to stand next to her, peering inside the window to see what had enraptured her so thoroughly.

The window looked into the house's living room. Just beyond it, clearly visible, was the dining room. There was a table laden with a delicious-looking meal. Harry watched as the family inside gathered around it, sitting themselves down to dinner. First was a tall, thickly-built, but kind-looking man with dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes. He pulled out a chair for the woman who had entered the room. She was shorter than the man but average in height. Both the man and the woman looked somehow familiar to Harry, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The woman's eyes were hazel, but her hair was a dark brown, long and straight...

No...

It had begun dawning upon him.

This can't be...

After the woman was seated, the man seated himself across from her at the head of the table. Only a moment later, two children rushed into the room. It looked as if they were laughing happily. The tallest, and apparently eldest, was a young boy who greatly resembled his father more so than his mother, but bore his mother's hazel eyes. The other was a young girl, at least a couple years younger than her brother. She resembled both of her parents. She had her mother's long, straight brown hair, and her father's dark brown eyes, and looked entirely too much like...

Harry couldn't find any words. He turned to the girl beside him. Her dark brown eyes were wide and shaking slightly as they darted between the different people at the dining room table. They looked glassy and unfocused, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Harry didn't blame her; he couldn't believe it either. He stood there silently beside his friend, gazing into the Muggle household as the people in the dining room began eating their meal.

A few silent minutes later, Sarah turned away from the window, stepping away from the house in a daze. She got as far as the street before she collapsed to her knees on the frozen pavement. Harry slowly followed after her, completely unsure of what to do or say. He breathed in, about to speak, to say something, anything, when Sarah began punching the pavement beneath her.

Each slam of her fist into the pavement was punctuated with an anguished yell.

"They... took... away... my... LIFE!" she shouted.

Harry rushed forward quickly, certain that she would injure herself on the pavement. He knelt down next to her, placing an arm around her shoulder in an attempt to stop her. She had been almost completely oblivious to his presence, and the touch startled her. She yelled, springing to her feet and shoving Harry away from her extremely roughly. He was thrown back hard, stumbling backwards several feet before he finally lost his balance and fell onto the street.

After adjusting his glasses, he sat up.

He looked up to where Sarah stood.

For one terrifying, paralyzing, heart-stopping instant, he had flashes that he was once again staring up into the glowing red eyes of Voldemort.

Sarah looked down at her friend sprawled out in the street a few feet away from her, breathing heavily, and her face contorted in an expression of rage. It only took her a moment to realize that Harry appeared to be terrified as he looked back up at her. Her eyes felt like they were burning. Her facial expression softened immediately, and she slowed her breathing. She turned toward the curb, and dropped to her hands and knees.

There, reflected in a patch of ice illuminated by the bright moon above, she could see herself. Her eyes were glowing red. At some point, the glamour that kept her new, strange eye color a secret had faded. She sighed deeply. With a few hard blinks, they ceased their glowing, but still remained red. She then fell back, content to just sit on the frozen pavement, looking defeated. She turned her head toward Harry, who was still looking shocked and speechless, as well as pale.

When he saw that her eyes were no longer alight, Harry righted himself, getting to his feet and approaching her where she sat.

"How-- how--," he began stuttering, unsure of how to pose the question.

Sarah, knowing exactly what he had been about to ask, supplied an answer.

"They've been like this since I got to Hogwarts," she sighed. "Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape know. So does Madam Pomfrey. We don't know why. We've been hiding it with a glamour charm for obvious reasons."

Harry knelt down next to her again.

"I'm sorry I scared you," she said softly, looking down at their reflections in the patch of ice.

"It's alright, no worries," Harry assured her, the real topic at hand still having yet to be broached. Sarah's brain must be positively shut down, he thought to himself. If he were her, he would probably be bawling. He took a deep breath.

"Sarah, I--," he began.

He was interrupted by a loud crack. It came from several yards off to their right. Someone had just Apparated into their location.

Harry immediately sprang to his feet, drawing his wand along the way. He looked toward the newly arrived figure, expectant to see a Ministry uniform of some kind, or perhaps even an Auror that he recognized. Instead, the figure was completely cloaked in black.

Sarah, still dazed and defeated, merely turned her head in the figure's direction. Maybe they were about to be hauled in by the law for breaking into the bank.

Maybe not.

Harry, his wand trained on the cloaked figure, did not move.

"Who are you?" he asked loudly, "What do you want?"

The cloaked figure did not reply to Harry. Instead, it slowly took a step closer to them.

"Stay back, I'm warning you!" Harry shouted, brandishing his wand. He had no idea who this was, but they were obviously not an Auror or some other Ministry-affiliated person. He had an extremely bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was no possible way they could have been followed or tracked to here, he thought. How could anyone possibly know where they were, or why?

"Poor girl," a voice from underneath the cloaked figure's hood cooed. Despite their efforts to sound kind and cajoling, Harry could immediately tell that there was no sympathy there whatsoever.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

Sarah, slowly breaking out of her daze, stood up on shaky legs, taking several steps backward so that Harry was between her and the figure. She too realized that something was wrong here. She pulled her hood up over her head and drew her own wand from inside her robes, but did not point it at the figure. She merely let it hang ready at her side.

Despite Harry's warning, the cloaked figure continued slowly advancing upon them, step by step. In turn, Harry and Sarah were slowly backing away, keeping the distance between them even so the figure did not get any closer.

"Stay back!" Harry warned again.

"Don't you want to know what happened, poor girl?" the figure underneath the hood asked. He seemed to be ignoring Harry and his threats, intent only on Sarah.

Harry gritted his teeth. The voice coming from underneath the hood sounded somehow familiar, but he did not know how. A foggy image began swimming in his mind, a vague image of a man with an overhanging forehead, long black hair, and a beard streaked with silver. He searched his mind desperately, but could find no more.

"Harry," Sarah whimpered weakly from behind him, trying to draw his attention. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he could see more figures cloaked in black emerging from the shadows. When he looked forward again, two more figures had appeared next to the first. They were being surrounded. They had somehow walked into a trap.

"Don't you want to know who did this to you?" the first figure cooed again, drawing ever closer.

"Who are you people, what is this all about!" Harry demanded, his wand jumping between the three figures before him in his field of vision. "Stay back, don't come any closer!"

Sarah, who was standing back-to-back with Harry, was doing the same, aiming her wand at each of the three figures that she could see. There were six of them in all.

"Pretty girl," Harry heard one of the figures closest to Sarah say, but was unable to spare a glance over his shoulder. The voice was grainy and rasping, and eerily familiar to him. "You sure we can't--,"

The figure with the grainy, rasping voice was silenced with a sharp elbow from one of its fellows.

"Don't you want to know why?" the first figure cooed. "We can tell you, poor girl. We can tell you who did this to you. Just listen to us."

The circle of figures was inching closer around them. They couldn't possibly try and Disapparate now. They would surely be stopped. Whoever these people were, Harry knew, they were no friends to Sarah. They had to get out of here.

"One more step and I'll curse you!" Harry yelled, hoping that the figures would stop in their advance, but they didn't. In fact, it made things worse; the figures raised their own wands, three wands trained on each of them.

There was no time to spare. Harry knew that he couldn't let them come any closer.

"Now!" Harry yelled, hoping Sarah would take the cue. Sharp as ever, she did.

"STUPEFY!" they both shouted in unison, each sending jets of red light at a single cloaked figure. Both of them hit their mark. The figure directly in front of Harry, the same figure who had appeared first and had been speaking to Sarah, was bowled over and knocked down with force. The figure Sarah had aimed at was hit with considerably more force, blasted back several yards and landing on the pavement in a heap.

There was immediate retaliation from the other figures, but Harry and Sarah had both yelled,

"Protego!"

They successfully deflected the spells. Harry grabbed Sarah's arm hard and began running. They had been surrounded, but he took advantage of the hole he had made in their line by stunning one of them.

"Stop her!" someone yelled, and curses were immediately being fired after them.

Harry spun about again, protecting them with another shield charm, but it was quickly shattered by powerful spells. A streak of white light had struck Sarah, who hadn't turned around. She tumbled to the pavement, and Harry had no choice but to move to protect her while she struggled to regain her feet. They were surrounded again in short measure, and the figure that Harry had stunned was already stirring a short distance away.

Before he knew what was happening, he and Sarah were both dueling two cloaked figures apiece, with a fifth one switching between both of them. Harry had seen worse and was confident that he could handle himself, but he was fearful for Sarah. As far as he knew, she had never seriously dueled anyone, let alone faced a life-and-death situation with a wand in her hand. With two opponents of his own to content with, he was unable to aid her, and simply had to trust that she would be able to hold her own until he could. He completely lost track of her as he fought, deflecting spells and attempting to neutralize his attackers. Curses were flying wildly through the night. The Muggles inside their homes probably did not notice at all; the bright flashes blended right in with the bright shine of their holiday lights.

Harry heard Sarah shriek behind him, but could not turn to help.

"Reducto!" he shouted, aiming at the feet of one of his opponents. The pavement there exploded forcefully, throwing the cloaked figure backwards. Before the figure could regain his feet, Harry was able to successfully disarm them, stun them, and body-bind them with impressively fast spellwork.

Before he could turn his attention to another opponent, he yelled out in pain and dropped to one knee. His right forearm, having been outstretched while spellcasting, had been slashed as if by a knife, and the cut burned intensely. Righting himself immediately, he turned to the cloaked figure who had fired the spell at him.

"Impedimenta!" Harry bellowed. The figure was blasted back forcefully, tripping over the curb and falling back against an iron lamppost, where Harry heard a satisfying clang.

Ropes were suddenly snaking their way up his left leg; another figure, who had apparently been dueling Sarah only a moment before, had turned its attention to Harry, with ropes springing forth from the tip of its wand. There also came another yell from behind him, but it did not belong to Sarah this time.

"Relashio!" he yelled, pointing his wand at the ropes climbing his body. Fiery red sparks shot forth at them, causing the ropes to slacken their grip. There came a howl of pain from somewhere behind him, again not belonging to Sarah; Harry then cried, "Diffindo!", cutting the ropes away completely, but also grazing his leg. Before the figure who had attempted to bind him could react, Harry countered with a stinging hex, causing the figure to drop its wand and grope at its body in pain. Harry then blasted the figure away with a stun, watching as the figure landed in the snow upon one of the Muggle lawns.

A spell from somewhere behind him struck him suddenly, sending him flying onto the pavement, his glasses knocked askew. Before he could right himself, he heard another yell, but again, it clearly did not belong to Sarah.

When he regained his feet and adjusted his glasses, he raised his wand in the direction the yell had come from, finally able to help Sarah.

His eyes widened, his heavy breathing catching in his throat.

There stood Sarah in the middle of the street, her wand all but discarded on the pavement next to her, several feet away. Both of the figures that they had initially stunned had come around, but one of them was already lying in another heap, having been sent crashing into some fencing in front of one of the houses by some tremendous force.

The pavement at Sarah's feet was cracked and fractured as if by tremendous heat. One of the two still-standing figures slashed its wand at her, and Harry yelled aloud and rushed forward as he watched Sarah struck by a whip of purple flames across her body. She howled in pain and staggered back, but immediately stepped forward toward her attacker again.

Without waving a wand, without uttering a spell, she thrust her palm out toward the figure, her fingers splayed; Harry, who had nearly reached Sarah, was struck by an invisible wall of force which sent him reeling. The air around Sarah crackled oddly. He heard a loud crash as Sarah's attacker was sent flying into a small automobile parked in a Muggle driveway two houses down.

Harry struggled to his feet again, watching as another figure was trying unsuccessfully to bind her. She simply batted the conjured ropes away with her wandless hands, and they seemed to smolder and burn away when they came in contact with her. The figure then sent a streak of yellow light at Sarah. It struck her in the shoulder, and she staggered back again, giving the figure enough time to again slash his wand at her, cutting her deeply in places with some unknown curse.

"No! Stop!" Harry yelled, rushing forward again, "Protego!"

His shield charm reached her, but it was shattered immediately by another spell from the cloaked figure.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled.

The cloaked figure was disarmed.

Before Harry could finish the figure off with a stun, Sarah sprang into action again, directing her outstretched palm toward it forcefully; another shockwave burst forth, the air crackling around her, knocking Harry back again, but striking the cloaked figure with terrifying effect. The figure was thrown back, howling in agony as if afflicted by the Cruciatus Curse, landing in a heap upon the pavement, convulsing for a moment before becoming still entirely.

Harry stood there, panting and glancing about frantically. The deep gash in his arm was bleeding generously and was extremely painful, but he tried to ignore it. All of the cloaked figures seemed to be down. He turned to Sarah who was standing in the center of the street, looking unsteady on her feet. He was not close enough to clearly see the extent of her injuries in the darkness. All Harry knew was that they had to get out of here, and fast.

With a jolt of fear, one of the figures that Harry had dealt with sprang to life again, streaking across the street with terrifying speed and unnatural agility. Harry was ready to cast another shield charm, but no wand was drawn. No spell came. Instead, the figure outright lunged at Sarah just as she had turned toward it, taking her down to the pavement brutally.

For the umpteenth time that night, Harry's heart stopped. The cloaked figure had lost its hood while lunging at Sarah.

Fenrir Greyback was now sitting astride his friend, his muscled arm raised to strike.

Any spell Harry could have aimed at him might have hit Sarah too.

In a blind panic, Harry rushed forward, lunging at the werewolf, tackling him off of Sarah, but not before she had been gashed across the collar bone savagely.

Harry rolled across the pavement with the werewolf atop him and beneath him, struggling against his brute strength, inhaling the sickening scent of sweat, blood, and dirt. Greyback's hands were coming at him, and Harry fought with all of his strength to keep those deadly claws at bay.

"You're--" Harry grunted out while struggling with the snarling man, "Supposed... to... be... DEAD!" Harry had managed to direct the tip of his wand at the werewolf, but he dodged uncannily, springing back and leaping off of Harry before he could be hit with a spell. As he leapt away, Harry tore the cloak from him, fully revealing him.

Harry regained his feet as quickly as possible, jumping back.

A very alive Fenrir Greyback was standing several yards away from him, laughing lowly. Harry was disgusted by what he saw. His long, matted gray hair was now more resemblant than ever to fur. The teeth he bared were as fiercely pointed as fangs, and his yellow eyes gleamed brightly in the moonlight. He was even more physically warped than before, corrupted and deranged by his blood lust, stuck somewhere in between human and werewolf form. His ears were now strangely pointed. Tufts of gray fur, which had previously been hair, streaked his bulging forearms. His fingernails, which had before only been long, yellowish, and claw-like, were now quite literally claws. It appeared that he was having great difficulty standing upright; after a few moments, he leaned forward so that the knuckles of his right hand rested on the ground.

The werewolf continued laughing lowly. Harry looked to Sarah; she did not move.

"Supposed to be dead and actually dead are two different things, Potter," growled Greyback, barking out a laugh. "I'm an animal, you see. It's amazing where playing dead will get you."

Hatred and anger welled up inside Harry.

"DIE!" Harry shouted, sending a streak of red light at the werewolf.

Greyback leapt aside with incredible reflex.

"You'll have to do better than that to finish me off, Potter!" he snarled.

He was then coming straight at him. Harry shot off another stun, but it was easily dodged again, and before he knew it, Greyback was upon him in a blur. His speed and strength were quite clearly something more than human.

Harry was backhanded hard across the face, sending him down onto the pavement where his glasses skidded away from him. He reached for them and only just managed to slam them back onto his face before the werewolf was over him again. He rolled to the side, dodging a blow which hit the pavement, causing the werewolf to yelp as his fist slammed into the hard, frozen surface.

Harry, with just enough time to spring to his feet, slashed his wand toward Greyback.

"Sectumsempra!" he shouted, managing to graze the werewolf with a deep slash, causing him to jump back.

In a single leap, however, the werewolf was on him again. Harry grimaced as he was tackled to the pavement, locked in an intense physical struggle. A hard punch came at him, hitting him in the jaw painfully. Making a fist around his wand, Harry punched back, hitting the Greyback in the side of the head, causing them to roll over, gaining Harry the upper hand with the werewolf underneath him. He immediately threw another punch, but his wrist was caught in the werewolf's hand, stopping his momentum. The werewolf then squeezed, crushing Harry's wrist with frightening strength and digging sharp claws into his flesh.

Harry yelled in pain, kneeing the werewolf in the side several times with all of his strength. When the grip on his wrist slackened, he followed through, punching Greyback in the jaw twice. The werewolf snarled loudly, trying to aim another punch at the side of Harry's head, but Harry ducked, allowing him enough time to push the tip of his wand into the werewolf's chest. Harry had few options. He had to use an Unforgiveable. The hatred and anger flowing through him was more than enough catalyst to make the spell effective.

"Crucio!" he shouted.

The werewolf immediately howled in agony and Harry jumped off of him, keeping his wand trained on the writhing figure. Harry watched, pitiless, as the savage beast of a man convulsed with the torturous pain. After a moment, Harry ended the spell. The werewolf was groaning and began to stir, but Harry would not let him get back up. Shouting, Harry aimed stun after stun at the werewolf's prone form, blasting him down the pavement several yards until he was satisfied that Greyback was either dead or unconscious. At the moment, Harry didn't care which.

He struggled to catch his breath. His body was throbbing all over from where he had been thrown and tackled to the pavement. He could taste the tang of blood in his mouth from where he had been punched in the jaw, and his right forearm pulsed with pain, having been slashed by a curse and clawed by Greyback. He could feel warm blood trickling down his hand and onto his wand.

When his head had cleared enough to allow him to think again, his attention immediately turned to Sarah. She was lying on her back on the pavement, not having moved since being taken down by the werewolf. Harry had seen her gashed by him, but had no idea what might have happened to her during the time that they had been dueling. He bounded over to her, scooping up her discarded wand along the way, shoving it into an inside pocket along with his own. He dropped to his knees beside her, fearing the worst.

She was alive, but unconscious. Harry could have hoped for her to be in better condition. Her robes were tattered and torn by the curses that had hit her. Her arms had been cut deeply in a similar manner to Harry's. She had been gashed deeply by the werewolf's claws across her left collarbone, but it was the injury to her right shoulder which scared Harry most. He had seen a streak of yellow light hit her here. From the way her robes were punctured and darkened by blood, it almost looked as if she had been shot by a Muggle firearm. As far as Harry could tell, those were all of the serious injuries he could see, but she was otherwise badly beaten and bruised from being tackled by Greyback and tossed to the pavement.

"It's alright, you're going to be alright," Harry said to her, even though he knew that she could not hear. His voice was shaky.

He picked his head up, examining the scene around him. Six unconscious figures lay strewn about the Muggle street in varying states of injury. Only one of the figures had been identified; the other five remained a mystery.

He was faced with a dilemma. All of the figures were now knocked out. He could put an end at least to the mystery of their identities by running to each one to pull down their hoods. At the same time, it was painfully evident that Sarah was in dire need of medical attention. If he spared a few moments to unmask the figures, what would become of her? What if his hesitation to get her aid cost Sarah her life, or resulted in some other permanent injury?

Harry shook his head as he looked all around at the still-cloaked figures.

There was no time to spare. He had to get his friend help immediately.

Then, another dilemma occurred to him.

But where?

He couldn't possibly take her to St. Mungo's if the Ministry was on the hunt for a girl with an unknown identity who matched Sarah's description. He couldn't take her into the hospital wing at Hogwarts either; too many questions would be asked, and Harry wouldn't be able to suitably explain what happened without fully confessing that they were the ones who had broken into Gringotts, and explaining that they had somehow walked right into a trap. He had learned a tiny amount of healing magic from Hermione before the start of term, but only enough to deal with small cuts and bruises at best. Sarah's injuries, as well as his own, were far beyond his skill to heal, or even Hermione's skill for that matter.

One thing was clear. She needed help, and she needed it fast.

Harry sighed to himself. He thought wildly of what to do next, trying at all outcomes to avoid having to take her to St. Mungo's or Hogwarts.

Then an idea came to him. His eyes widened and he gasped slightly. It was a last-ditch idea, but it might work. If it failed, however, he would have no choice but to take her into Hogwarts, a more attractive alternative to St. Mungo's.

Harry gently took a hold of Sarah's arms, trying his best to avoid touching her wounds. He pulled her into a sitting position and draped her left arm over his shoulders, grasping her hand in his. He then wrapped his right arm around Sarah's torso as tightly as he could. He stood with great effort, lifting Sarah's limp, unconscious form along with him, supported by his body.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, picturing again a small Muggle village where a single huge chimney dominated the skyline, picturing a small, deserted playground as clearly as he possibly could...

Eyes still closed, he stepped forward, holding Sarah tightly as he pulled them both back into the crushing darkness.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When they reappeared, Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief when he found them to be in the center of the small, deserted playground that he had been picturing in his mind's eye. In the darkness he could not tell how considerably run-down it looked. Re-securing his grip on Sarah, he walked forward as quickly as he could, looking desperately for a lamppost or a street sign, anything that would point him in the direction that he needed to go. He found a lamppost around the corner from the small playground, where three identical brick lanes branched off from an intersection.

It was considerably darker here than it had been in Surrey. Wherever they were, thick clouds were obscuring most of the moonlight. Unable to draw his wand while both of his hands were busy keeping Sarah upright, he had to drag both of them to stand directly under the dim light of the lamppost. He squinted up at the street signs, closing his right eye; he had only just noticed that his right eyeglass lens was cracked.

"There," he breathed, finding the sign that he wanted.

A sign reading Spinner's End pointed down the lane which branched off to their left. Holding Sarah tight, Harry walked as quickly as their predicament would allow. The winding lane led him in a downward slope. The scent of semi-stagnant water began to fill his nostrils as he went. Good, he thought to himself, the river.

The lane curved to the right sharply, and Harry followed it. Off to his left was a small, dirty-looking river with litter strewn upon its banks. Small houses began cropping up on either side of the lane. It could not have been very late into the evening yet, but all of their windows seemed to be darkened, as if no one lived in them. Harry kept an eye on the postboxes of each house as he walked by, reading their names, hoping desperately that he would find the one he was searching for.

To his horror, he began to feel something warm soaking through the clothing on his back where Sarah's unconscious form was resting against him. She was bleeding onto him. He quickened his pace, frightened as he neared the end of the lane. He hadn't yet spotted the desired name on any of the other postboxes. The house at the very end of the lane, however, had lit windows. Light was shining out from them. Someone was definitely in there. As he drew closer to it, he could see that this particular house had no Muggle postbox out in front of it.

This has to be it, he announced inside his mind.

He stepped off the brick lane, onto the house's small cobblestone path.

"Please be here, please be here, please be here," he whispered to himself as he approached the door.

Stepping up onto the house's front step, he gripped Sarah as tightly as he could with his right arm, making a fist with his left hand and pounding on the door several times.

Then, he waited.


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A/N: There you have chapter 22! GASP!! I know it was quite long, but I also hope it was edge-of-your-seat exciting! Sorry to again leave you at a bit of a cliffhanger ;) I have to keep you all reading, don't I?! I really hope you enjoyed it.

As you may have noticed, I invented another spell. I don't remember anything in canon about a freezing spell to create ice or freeze things over. I thought it would be a cool spell!

Thanks so much for reading. Leave a review if you would be so kind :) Stay tuned!