Emma Potter; Going to War

29: Number 12 Once Again

I was so relieved that he was taking me seriously that Idid not hesitate, but jumped up at once then my head gave another painful throb and Draco and Zoe had to catch me. 

"Mr Malfoy, Ms Anderson, you ought to come too," said Professor Snape. We followed Professor Snape past the silent figures, up the stairs of the dungeons and were immediately met by my brother, Ron and Professor Mcgonagall. 

The two teachers shared a look. My brother had the same dream; but for some reason; I was the one unable to walk.

"Potter, can you walk?" asked Professor Mcgonagall. Harry nodded. "Good, Weasly, Potter help Ms Potter. Malfoy, Mr Anderson--"

"We're not going anywhere" snarled Zoe "we're staying here until we know she's alright!"

"It is not a choice" said Professor Mcgonagall her nostrils flaring. 

Both of them looked at Snape as though expecting him to say something. But his eyes were calculating as he said "go."

"But--"

"Now Malfoy" snarled Snape "do not make me take points away from my own house."

Reluctantly Draco and Zoe gave their spots to Harry and Ron and we hobbled on. 

I felt as though the panic insideme might spill over at any moment; I wanted to run, to yell forDumbledore. Mr. Weasley was bleeding as we walked along so sedately, and what if those fangs (I tried hard not to think "myfangs") had been poisonous? 

We passed Mrs. Norris, who turned herlamplike eyes upon them and hissed faintly, but Professor McGonagall said, "Shoo!" Mrs. Norris slunk away into the shadows, and in afew minutes we had reached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. 

"Fizzing Whizbee," said Professor McGonagall.

The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; the wall behind it splitin two to reveal a stone staircase that was moving continuously upward like a spiral escalator. The three of them stepped onto the moving stairs; the wall closed behind us with a thud, and we weremoving upward in tight circles until we reached the highly polishedoak door with the brass knocker shaped like a griffin. 

Though it was now well past midnight, there were voices comingfrom inside the room, a positive babble of them. It sounded as thoughDumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people. 

Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker,and the voices ceased abruptly as though someone had switched themall off. The door opened of its own accord and Professor McGonagallled Me,Harry and Ron inside. 

The room was in half darkness; the strange silver instrumentsstanding on tables were silent and still rather than whirring and emitting puffs of smoke as they usually did. The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses covering the walls were all snoozing in theirframes. Behind the door, a magnificent red-and-gold bird the size of aswan dozed on its perch with its head under its wing. 

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall . . . and . . . ah."

 Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; heleaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the paperslaid out before him. He was wearing a magnificently embroideredpurple-and-gold dressing gown over a snowy-white nightshirt, butseemed wide awake, his penetrating light-blue eyes fixed intentlyupon Professor McGonagall. 

"Professor Dumbledore, Potters have had a . . . well, a nightmare,"said Professor McGonagall. "They say. . ." 

"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly.