The Wand of Ravenclaw

A Chance Not To Miss

Hogwarts' largely deserted corridors had never seemed so still. It was jarring, compared with the raucous laughter and merriment from the Great Hall, not to mention the panicked whirring inside Harry's mind. His thoughts were racing each other around his head, each more chilling than the last and the scale of grotesque outcomes only growing, as each minute passed without embarking on a rescue mission for Hermione's parents.

He had been halfway though the main doors when Hermione had suddenly snatched at his arm and drew him up the staircase. Where were they going? The rescue was in the other direction. Hermione wasn't speaking. She was single minded, set to task. What this might have been, that was more important than racing to her parents' aid, Harry couldn't rightly fathom. He allowed himself to be guided along by Hermione, not really paying much mind to where they were going, but mindful of the shrewd chessmove Voldemort had just played on them.

Harry rather thought he should have seen it coming.

It was all too easy. He'd let his life get too sweet, too beautiful with Hermione at his side. He'd dropped his guard, two Horcruxes down or not. You couldn't afford to switch off even for a moment with a wizard like Tom Riddle around. He was too clever, to the point of waiting till you were the most vulnerable, most off-guard to strike. He'd probably just been waiting for the right moment, and Harry had walked right into it.

It soon became clear where Hermione was taking them. The route to the Headteacher's office was all too familiar for Harry. Their pace was brisk; Harry, dragged along by Hermione, Snape bringing up the rear with the subdued Auror being levitated in front of him, completely immobile. Harry's groggy mind tried to remember what happened to the stocky little man, but the memory evaded him.

Snape opened the office door and led the way in. Harry and Hermione mutely followed. Snape dumped his prisoner unceremoniously onto one of the seats at the desk, and re-cast his binding spells. Without looking up, he moved to the fireplace and flicked his wand at it. The flames glowed a dull viridian for a moment.

"Minerva," Snape spoke into the fire. "Your presence is required immediately."

The flames sparkled emerald green again for a moment, then returned to normal.

Harry had waited long enough. "What's going on? We should be halfway to the Riddle House by now."

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," said Hermione. "And send you right into Voldemort's waiting arms? I don't think so."

Harry goggled at her. She seemed odd. She was not calm, that was for sure, but Harry struggled to place a title on her mood. Determined, maybe. Steely and resolute too. A tad angry, even. But sad, panicked, miserable, the things Harry would have expected in this situation...not a bit of it. He felt like he'd been told a punchline but missed the joke.

"I don't get it," said Harry. "He has your -"

"He does not have my parents," said Hermione abruptly. "Or if he does, things are worse than we thought."

Harry was silenced. He felt an odd urge to look at Snape, either for intelligence or reassurance, he couldn't be sure. It was so alien for him to look for either into that sallow face that Harry may as well have been trying to learn a new language on the day of an exam. Snape knew what he was thinking.

"You seem to forget quite easily how much more intelligent and perceptive your girlfriend is than you, Potter," he said silkily. "I do not believe she is as reactionary and limited in her thinking as you are."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that she has likely deducted the danger her parents would be in if news of your relationship became public. And, as you seem keen to make the front page of everything from the Daily Prophet to the Glastonbury One Street Gazette with evidence of your fornications, it is highly probable that the Dark Lord is well informed about it already. Armed with this knowledge, Miss Granger has, quite of her own volition, taken steps to place her parents into safe custody."