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"The Ministry?" Harry asked. "It's in London, right?"
"You can't just go to the Ministry!" Hermione said. "You need to understand, even if You-Know-Who really is there, Sirius might not be. When you, well, saw Sirius in danger, was he in that meeting room? Anyway, we should tell a professor first!"
"Yeah, let's go find Professor McGonagall!" Ron said.
Harry was reluctant, but Ron and Hermione's expressions were unusually determined.
"Fine. Then I'll go find Professor McGonagall," Harry said, glancing sideways at Lockhart. "But we should probably hide him first."
They walked over to Lockhart and looked down at him. He lay on his back, rigid, and—thank Merlin—silent, though his bright blue eyes tracked them.
"Why?" Ron asked. "We can just tell McGonagall about him too."
Lockhart's eyes darted, flicking between the three of them.
"No!" Harry and Hermione said in unison.
"What? She already seems fed up with him anyway."
"She'll think I've lost my mind," Harry said flatly. "If I tell her Voldemort is back and Sirius is in danger, she might just be suspicious. But if I add Lockhart into it, she'll be certain I'm crazy. She won't believe a word I say."
"Okay. Fair point," Ron conceded. "So what do we do?"
Harry felt he couldn't waste another second. "I'll go to McGonagall. Ron, you go to the Owlery, get Hedwig to send a letter to Dumbledore. Hermione, find a way to hide Lockhart. Tie him up first, in case he knows some counter-charm we don't. We meet back here, alright?"
Ron and Hermione both nodded.
"Right. That's the plan," Harry said. He turned and sprinted away.
Professor McGonagall seemed a bit surprised when she opened her office door to see him. But after listening to his story, her expression had returned to its usual calm. "Very well, Potter. I will handle it."
"Will you go to the Ministry, Professor?" Harry pressed impulsively. "Sirius might be there. And Professor Anthony, they're together."
Professor McGonagall gave him a sharp look.
"Potter, I understand you are worried about your godfather," she said. "However you learned that your godfather and Professor Anthony are together—which is supposed to be confidential—there is one thing you should know. Professor Anthony cannot possibly be at the Ministry right now. If Sirius is with him, then they are not at the Ministry."
"But…"
"I said, I will handle it," she said impatiently, almost shooing him out of her office.
Harry stood frozen outside her door for a few seconds, then hurried back to the corridor where he'd left the others. Ron and Hermione were already waiting.
"Well?" Ron asked the moment he saw him.
"I think she believed at least part of it. Not sure how much," Harry said. "She said she'd handle it, but I don't know her plan. What about you two?"
Ron said, "Hedwig didn't want to take the letter at first, tried to peck me while I was tying it on. But I told her it was really important for you, so she finally went. I saw her fly out the window." A tiny weight lifted from Harry's chest. He looked at Hermione.
"Oh, me?" Hermione said. "I hid him. Very secure."
"Where?"
"In his own office," Hermione said, looking rather pleased with herself. "Honestly, his office was barely locked. A simple Alohomora did it. And really, even if someone finds him in his own office, they can't say it's wrong, can they?"
Ron stared. "Wait, you're saying you broke into a professor's office? Doesn't that violate about a hundred school rules?"
Hermione said airily, "Of course it does. But I figured since we've already assaulted a professor, and that's enough to get us expelled, breaking and entering one more office won't make much difference."
Harry was about to say something when a sharp pain shot through his forehead. The next moment, he heard himself ask, "It is here?"
"No, Master, not Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone," a wizard answered. "The Department of Mysteries acquired some valuable ancient texts. They've been trying to replicate the Stone, though never with success. Before I was… before Karkaroff betrayed us, their best attempt could occasionally behave like Flamel's Stone. It just couldn't transmute base metals."
Bellatrix leaned forward sharply. "Are you suggesting the Dark Lord settle for a flawed replica, Augustus?"
The wizard who had spoken replied coolly, "My loyalty to the Dark Lord is no less than yours, Bella. I believe my time in Azkaban may have even exceeded yours."
Bellatrix let out a derisive snort. "Because you were too weak. Caught by the Ministry fools—or should I say, your former colleagues—on the fourth day you were betrayed."
"Enough, Bella," Harry said. "The Ministry cannot produce the true Philosopher's Stone. But the Dark Lord is all-powerful. Bring me their latest result, and the ancient texts you mentioned, Augustus… I trust you still remember the way to the Department of Mysteries. Do not keep me waiting."
Augustus stood and bowed. "I shall bring them before you within the hour."
He nodded, watching as the other wizard pulled open the meeting room door and slipped out silently. In his immense joy, he almost laughed at the irony of it all. A year ago, faced with the Stone, Dumbledore had schemed to stop him, Anthony had refused him without hesitation, and his servant had been cowardly and incompetent… And now, he had returned, and he would obtain the Stone—or forge it—with ease. After that, he would be truly immortal.
…
Harry opened his eyes. "What's the Philosopher's Stone? Something to do with a man called Nicolas Flamel."
The worry in Ron's eyes turned to confusion. "What stone?"
"The Philosopher's Stone!" Hermione said. "Do you two ever just go to the library for fun? It's the most famous alchemical achievement. It can turn base metal to gold and make an Elixir of Life, which makes the drinker immortal! Why are you asking, Harry?"
"Voldemort wants it," Harry answered distractedly, still rubbing his scar. "His follower said the Ministry has an imitation. Voldemort was… pleased." So pleased it made his scar ache. It felt swollen.
The Philosopher's Stone… Immortality… Voldemort…
He looked up, meeting Ron and Hermione's gazes. Understanding and horror dawned on all their faces.
"You-Know-Who is back, and this time he won't die!" Ron said, sucking in a sharp breath.
Harry said, "I'm going to the Ministry."
Ron and Hermione both gaped at him. "What?"
"But Professor McGonagall said…"
"There's still time! He doesn't have the Stone yet. And besides, Sirius might still be alive…" Harry's heart hammered against his ribs, hope surging. "Actually, I feel like Sirius is still alive! If he were dead, I'd know, wouldn't I? I could still do something…"
"That doesn't mean go to the Ministry!" Hermione protested. "At least try to contact Sirius first, maybe use the two-way mirror… oh."
"Snape took it," Ron said bitterly.
"Then we steal it back from Snape's office," Hermione proposed, which shocked Harry and Ron so much it almost cut through Harry's urgency.
Harry shook his head. "No. Even if Sirius isn't there, I'm going. It's not just about Sirius. It's about Voldemort being there."
"But, Harry, a second-year can't fight You-Know-Who…"
"It's not about fighting him! It's about stopping him from getting the Stone!"
"No, Harry…"
"Ron wrote to Dumbledore. I warned McGonagall. If they believe me, someone's already on their way to the Ministry. I won't be alone," Harry said. "And if they don't believe Voldemort is back, someone has to go stop him from becoming completely un-killable."
"But…"
"Someone has to stop him. Don't you get it?" Harry's voice rose. "What happens if he really gets the Stone? Is that just a problem for the professors? If he takes over the wizarding world, Hogwarts will be run by people like Snape and Malfoy. They'll be worse than Umbridge ever was! None of us will be safe! If I try to stop him, the worst that happens is he kills me. But if no one stops him, you think he won't kill me then? He's already tried once! And he won't just kill me. He'll kill Sirius, and probably loads more people, just like he killed my parents and so many of our classmates' families back then! I'm going to stop him—or at least slow him down. On a broom, on a motorbike, through the Floo, I'm going to the Ministry. I'm not sitting in the common room praying someone listened to my warning."
Harry finished, glaring at Ron and Hermione.
After a long silence, Hermione said, "You're right, Harry."
"We'd better go now," Ron said. "No time to waste."
"We? No, I didn't mean…"
Now it was Hermione's turn to glare. "You didn't think we'd let you go alone, did you? And then sit in the common room praying someone listened to your warning?"
"Don't be thick," Ron said. "My dad's at the Ministry too. Imagine if You-Know-Who gets the Stone and decides to start the killing right there." His voice trembled slightly. Harry realized then that ever since Ron started believing Voldemort might be at the Ministry, he'd been worried about his dad, just like Harry was about Sirius. He felt a pang for his friend.
"What's the fastest way to the Ministry?" Harry asked. "Is there a Floo-connected fireplace at Hogwarts?"
"The staff room. We arrived through it, remember?" Ron said. "But there'll be professors in there."
Hermione suggested, "Then a professor's office! We can use Professor Lockhart's office, or Professor Anthony's office across the hall. That whole corridor is quiet, no one will disturb us! Oh, and I brought your Invisibility Cloak, Harry."
"You're really getting into this breaking-into-offices thing," Ron said. "It's a bit scary."
Hermione said, "It gets easier with practice."
…
They reached the corridor outside Lockhart's office quickly. Hermione decisively drew her wand, murmured the spell, and tapped the door. Lockhart's characteristically gaudy door swung open. The three slipped inside. Harry saw Lockhart lying stiffly in a corner. Hermione had thoughtfully moved several large portraits to shield him from any prying eyes at the window. The moment they entered, the portraits began chattering accusations.
"I really am very sorry, Professor Lockhart," Hermione said guiltily. "Does your office have any Floo powder?"
They found a small pot of Floo powder on the bottom shelf by the fireplace. However, to their dismay, Lockhart's fireplace wasn't connected to the Ministry network. One portrait proudly informed them that due to the sheer number of fans wanting to visit Lockhart from everywhere, his fireplace wasn't linked to any public ones. You could only visit him from specific fireplaces… Also, without prior application, no fireplace at Hogwarts connected to the Ministry.
"If only I could Apparate!" Ron kicked the fireplace in frustration. "Bill Apparates to and from work all the time."
One of Lockhart's portraits tutted. "Tsk, tsk. You really need to purchase a copy of Happy Hogwarts. If you had, you'd know Apparition is forbidden within the Hogwarts grounds."
"But… oh! I know!" Hermione suddenly jumped up. "Gubby, Pimmy, Simmy, Coco, Doodoo…" A stream of bizarre syllables spilled from her mouth.
"You've finally gone mad?" Ron said. "I knew there was something off about you today."
Hermione shushed him impatiently and kept chanting. A moment later, with several soft pops of displaced air, Lockhart's office was suddenly crowded with house-elves. They immediately set to work—tidying the hearth, rearranging cabinets, straightening decorations, dusting chairs—all in silence, occasionally shooting Hermione distrustful glances as they wrung out cleaning cloths.
"I'm sorry to disturb your work," Hermione said in a sweet, pleading tone. "But could someone please take us to the British Ministry of Magic? I can pay fifteen silver Sickles… I know it's not much…"
No one answered. Hermione seemed to expect this.
"You try, Harry," she whispered. "They stopped talking to me ages ago."
"Could someone please take us to the British Ministry of Magic?" Harry repeated, feeling foolish.
"House-elves of Hogwarts do not take students to dangerous places," an older-looking elf said. "And house-elves do not want silver Sickles, miss." She snapped her fingers. Lockhart floated into the air. With another gesture from her long finger, the floor beneath him became spotless, and a pile of fluffy bedding appeared. A final, decisive wave of her hand, and Lockhart settled onto the bedding, a pale yellow pillow appearing under his head, a soft, clean, matching blanket draping over his rigid form.
Harry tried, "What if we ordered you?"
A younger elf bowed to him. "The Headmaster's order is that house-elves of Hogwarts may refuse such commands, to avoid taking students to dangerous places, Mr. Potter."
"Fine," Harry said, annoyed.
"Kreacher!" Ron said suddenly.
"Kreacher isn't here," Hermione said, looking around. "Remember, Professor Dumbledore banned him from Hogwarts."
"I mean, we could have Kreacher take us to the Ministry. Sirius ordered him to obey you, right, Harry?"
Hermione frowned. "But he's banned from entering Hogwarts, so we'll have to go to Hogsmeade first. Come on. Quickly."
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