Percy Jackson and the Department of Mysteries [Book 5]

115) Dumbledore Looks At Everyone (Harry Excluded)

It was well past midnight, but I could still hear the portraits of old headmasters chatting it up from beyond the door. I frowned at that — they only chatted it up with each other when it was important business. Otherwise, they'd be chatting up every other painting in the building, trying to get away from each other.

McGonagall knocked sharply with the brass knocker three times, the voices falling silent. The door opened on its own, and the four of us stepped inside.

The portraits were pretending to sleep in their frames — I noticed a few of them had even collected an impressive bit of drool in the few seconds they'd had to prepare. Fawkes was actually asleep on his perch, head tucked comfortably under wing. I was a bit jealous, though the position probably wouldn't have been nearly as cozy for me.

Sitting behind his desk wearing a flashy purple dressing gown over a white pajama shirt was Dumbledore, eyes wide awake in spite of his sleepwear. His too blue eyes settled on McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a... well, a nightmare," McGonagall said, unable to find better words. "He says..."

"It wasn't a nightmare," Harry said quickly, too green eyes settled on Dumbledore. I couldn't help but notice that Dumbledore wouldn't look at Harry.

"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it."

"I... well, I was asleep..." Harry grimaced at how everything was sounding. "But it wasn't an ordinary dream... it was real.... I saw it happen.... Ron's dad — Mr. Weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake."

The words punctured the air, making it feel to heavy, full of something new and foreign and bad. Maybe that was just me. The giant snake bothered me — I'd seen it. A graveyard replaced Dumbledore's office, dark green grass bending for a twisting snake. A hiss rang through my ears as piercing eyes stared at me. I couldn't move, as if ropes were constricting me. As if the snake had wrapped itself around me, cutting off my air, cutting off my everything. A phantom pain shot up my hand, as if I were losing my pinkie all over again. And there, bending the grass like the snake was, marking his spot on the earth, was Cedric.

"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked, and the graveyard filled with warm fire's light, the castle's stone beneath my feet, and no ropes — or snakes — surrounding me. The memory of pain in my hand still lingered, and I bit the inside of my mouth to distract from it. Everyone was too focused on Harry (or looking away from Harry, in Dumbledore's case) to notice the tears that had sprung up in my eyes.

"Well... I don't know," Harry scowled. "Inside my head, I suppose —"

"You misunderstand me," Dumbledore said calmly, eyes fixedly pointed at the ceiling. "I mean... can you remember where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? We're you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"

Harry gaped at Dumbledore for a moment, then answered, "I was the snake. I saw it all from the snake's point of view..."

Dumbledore looked at Ron but addressed Harry, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes," Harry said, the word hanging heavy in the room.

Dumbledore sprang up from his seat, approaching two of the portraits, "Everard? And you too, Dilys!" They 'woke up' immediately, eyes alert and ready. "You were listening?"

The wizard nodded, and the witch said, "Naturally."

"The man has red hair and glasses," Dumbledore said. "Everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people —"

They both nodded and walked out of frame, presumably to separate portraits within the walls of the Ministry.

"Albus," I said, interrupting Dumbledore's movements. His alert eyes landed on my tired ones, and for a moment they looked darker, sadder. "Can I —?"