Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Harry held his breath, the footsteps outside the door were getting closer and closer.

Tonight, Death Eaters had broken into Hogwarts. Evan was not here, and Dumbledore had lost his magic power. It was up to him to protect everyone. Harry tightened his grip on his wand. The next second, the door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted, “Expelliarmus!”

Before Harry could react, his body became instantly rigid and immobile, and he felt himself fall back against the tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to move or speak.

He could not understand how it had happened — Expelliarmus was not a Freezing Charm —

Then, by the green light of the Dark Mark, he saw Dumbledore’s wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts and understood. …

Dumbledore had wordlessly immobilized Harry, and the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself.

But Harry didn’t understand — why would Dumbledore freeze him?

His magic was extremely limited now, all being used to resist the power of the Twin Serpent Staff. Why waste it on Harry?!

At that moment, standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress.

He merely looked across at his disarmer and said calmly, “Good evening, Draco.”

Malfoy stepped forward, glancing around quickly to check that he and Dumbledore were alone. His eyes fell upon the second broom.

“Who else is here?”

“A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?”

Harry saw Malfoy’s pale eyes shift back to Dumbledore in the greenish glare of the Mark.

“No,” he said. “I’ve got backup. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight.”

“Well, well,” said Dumbledore, as though Malfoy was showing him an ambitious homework project. “Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?”

“Yeah,” said Malfoy, who was panting. “Right under your nose and you never realized!”

“Ingenious. Truly unexpected, though not for that reason,” said Dumbledore. “In fact, just a moment ago, I heard a terrible, guttural howl from the air. It sounded terrible and harsh. It seems this particular visitor has a bad temper. Well, if I heard it correctly, it should be the voice of Fenrir Greyback. To be honest, I am shocked by this. You brought him into a school where your friends live.”

“I didn’t — I — I cooperated with him, but I didn’t know he was going to come,” breathed Malfoy, his expression like a child who had done something wrong, and then a trace of stubbornness flashed across his face. “He came to seek revenge on Mason, and the others. …”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you!” said Dumbledore gently. “But forgive me, where are the other people you mentioned, your friends, now? You seem unsupported.”

“Humph, they met some of your guards. They’re having a fight down below,” said Malfoy. “They won’t be long. There are far more people here tonight than you prepared for. … I came on ahead. I — I’ve got a job to do.”

“Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy.”

There was a long silence!

Malfoy hesitated, and his hand that raised the wand seemed to weigh a lot.

Harry stood imprisoned within his own invisible, paralyzed body, staring at the two of them, his ears straining to hear sounds of the Death Eaters’ distant fight.

Evan had split off from them a while ago. He was probably confronting Fenrir Greyback by now. As long as they could hold out a little longer, he would make it here. Though Dumbledore had said he was about to leave this world, Harry couldn’t see why the headmaster had to die at Malfoy’s hands.

They had just to hold on a bit longer — Evan knew they were here. There was still hope.

Malfoy just stared at Dumbledore blankly. He didn’t seem to have the courage to take action.

………………………………………………………………………………..

In mid-air, Evan turned his broom and flew toward Gryffindor Tower.

He flew through a window along the corridor outside the tower. Leaping off the broom midair, he transformed into his Animagus form — a black cat — and dashed toward the common room.

The entire castle was already fully awakened by Fenrir Greyback’s howling. Though the corridor ahead was currently empty, Evan could hear sounds of battle coming from the direction of the main staircase — booming noises, spell incantations. The Order of the Phoenix guards and Hogwarts teachers had already engaged the intruders.

Suddenly, a girl’s scream came from ahead. Evan grew anxious. He hadn’t caught whose voice it was. If Greyback met a student…

It probably wasn’t Elaine, but if it was Hermione…

He quickened his pace and turned a corner.

Finally, at the end of the corridor, in the hall outside the common room, Evan saw Hermione, Ginny, and a group of pale-faced younger students. Standing across from them were five Death Eaters.

The most eye-catching one was the one in the middle of the five.

He was a big, rangy man with matted gray hair and whiskers, and his black Death Eater’s robes looked uncomfortably tight. He had his head raised, letting out a loud howl — a rasping bark of a voice — ferocious and terrifying!

In addition, there was a smell of a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat, and, unmistakably, of blood coming from him.

He held his wand tightly, his filthy fingers tipped with long yellowish nails.

It was the werewolf Fenrir Greyback. …

…………………………………………………………………………………

The stalemate and silence on the Astronomy Tower continued. Even though the battle below had already entered a fierce stage, even though Dumbledore no longer had his wand, even though he was actually so weak that he could no longer perform a simple spell, Malfoy kept hesitating.

He stared at Dumbledore blankly, who, incredibly, smiled.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.”

“How do you know?” said Malfoy at once, as if he had been waiting for this statement.

Obviously, he seemed to realize how childish the words had sounded; Harry saw him flush in the Mark’s greenish light.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” said Malfoy more forcefully, which made him look a little bluffing, “You don’t know what I’ve done!”

“Oh yes, I do,” said Dumbledore mildly, in a tone that made it sound like they were discussing a homework assignment. “Over the past year, you’ve done quite a lot. You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. Of course, there were many failed murder plans. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts. … So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it. In fact, it’s not the kind of work I would expect from a Hogwarts student in the advanced class. …”

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