Chapter 135: Lessons in the Dark
Chapter 135: Lessons in the Dark
Lupin returned at dawn. Edward's fever had not risen, the numbness in his hand had faded, and the cut at his ribs had remained closed through the night. Those facts earned him permission to walk back through the passage, not permission to call himself recovered.
Sirius stayed in the Shack. Before Edward left, they wrote separate accounts at opposite sides of the room. Lupin sealed both parchments without comparing them.
"If our memories differ, Dumbledore needs the difference," Sirius said. "Do not change yours to protect me."
"The same applies to you."
Kreacher carried the clean clothes and remaining supplies away. He objected to Edward returning to school until Lupin reminded him that the hospital wing was safer than an abandoned building. The elf accepted the argument with a sour look and promised to remain available through the mirror.
Edward and Lupin entered the castle shortly before breakfast. They had crossed only half the entrance hall when Snape detached himself from the shadow of a pillar. His gaze moved from Lupin's tired face to the fresh bandage visible above Edward's collar.
"The Headmaster is waiting," Snape said. "Mr. Black, apparently a supervised visit to Hogsmeade was not sufficiently hazardous for you."
"It was not supervised when I left the village," Edward replied.
Snape's mouth tightened. The direct admission denied him an easy target, but not the substance of his anger.
"Then you understand at least one part of the problem. Come."
Lupin handed him the two sealed statements. "Pomfrey should see Edward first."
"The Headmaster has asked for five minutes before she does. I expect Mr. Black can survive being told why he nearly did not survive the forest."
Edward followed Snape up the moving staircase. The climb exposed how little strength the restorative had returned. By the time the stone gargoyle moved aside, his shoulder throbbed and sweat had collected beneath his collar.
Dumbledore stood behind his desk rather than sitting. Professor McGonagall waited near the window, and Flitwick occupied a chair beside the fire. The broken halves of the brass disc lay on a cloth between them.
"Sit down, Edward," Dumbledore said.
Edward did. Snape placed the statements on the desk and remained by the door.
Flitwick spoke first. "The signal was precise. I found Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, and Mr. Potter at once. Had you stayed with them, your part in the emergency would have ended well."
"I understand."
"Do you?" McGonagall asked. "You transformed beyond the village, pursued adults suspected of wartime crimes, and entered a wood where no professor knew your position. Your flare told us only that someone needed help. By the time we reached it, concealment charms had erased the useful trail."
Edward described the argument he had made to himself about taking one look from above.
"A dangerous decision often arrives wearing the clothes of a limited exception," Dumbledore said. "You survived, but survival does not make the decision sound. Nor does the information you brought back pay for the risk."
The words left no room for Edward to turn the encounter into a triumph. "No, sir."
Dumbledore opened Edward's statement, then Sirius's. He read in silence while the portraits pretended not to listen. When he finished, he asked about each uncertain point: how many figures Edward had counted, which faces he had identified, which spells he had recognized, and what Dolohov had actually said. Edward corrected one detail in his statement. He had written that twelve people attended, when the moving shadows meant he could support only a count between eleven and thirteen.
"Good," Dumbledore said. "Precision includes admitting the limits of observation."
They discussed Peter next. Ron's bite and the rat's purposeful escape strengthened the case, but neither proved an Animagus identity. Flitwick had collected the bloodstained handkerchief and statements from all three students. McGonagall intended to speak with Ron without doing so near Scabbers.
"Peter may now know Sirius is hunting him," Edward said.
"That possibility shortens our time," Dumbledore replied. "It does not justify an improvised seizure in a dormitory. We will protect Mr. Weasley and arrange witnesses."
Snape tapped one finger against his sleeve. "And Dolohov?"
"The Ministry has been informed of the gathering," Dumbledore said. "There are unconfirmed reports of unusual activity connected to Voldemort's former followers in Albania. We do not yet know whether Dolohov serves that effort, competes with it, or merely exploits the rumours."
No one treated the report as settled fact.
Dumbledore turned back to Edward. "Until the Peter Pettigrew inquiry is resolved, you will not leave the grounds except under direct staff escort. Your transformations outdoors require Professor Flitwick's approval. Any further work with compressed blue flame stops until we understand why control failed."
The restrictions were specific and deserved. Edward agreed to each one.
"One more matter," Snape said. "He used a form of fire associated with exceptionally destructive magic."
"A colour does not establish a spell," Flitwick replied. "His account describes an unstable compression of an existing barrier, not the deliberate curse you have in mind. We will examine the wand traces."
Edward appreciated the distinction without mistaking it for exoneration. Intent mattered. So did the damage the flame could have caused.
Dumbledore collected both statements. "Now you will go to Madam Pomfrey, answer every question honestly, and remain until she releases you."
Pomfrey kept him through the morning and into the following day. She removed Lupin's bandage, cleaned the wound again, checked his shoulder with three diagnostic charms, and prescribed rest instead of a miraculous remedy. The restorative had helped his ordinary reserves recover, but the strain from repeated transformation would take time.
"No spell practice for forty-eight hours," she said. "That includes little experiments performed while pretending to read."
Edward surrendered both wands to her locked cabinet.
Draco visited after lunch carrying a paper bag from Honeydukes. He stopped beside the bed, examined Edward's bruised shoulder, and looked offended by the evidence.
"You told me to fetch Rosmerta, then disappeared," he said. "She thought I was inventing the whole thing until she saw Weasley's arm."
"You did what I asked. Ron received help quickly."
"That is not the point."
It was plainly part of the point, but Edward let him continue.
"If you know something dangerous is happening, tell a professor and tell your friends enough that we do not search the wrong place," Draco said. "Do not ask me to follow you into a forest. I am not volunteering for that stupidity."
"I would not ask."
"Good."
Draco placed the bag on the bedside table. "Acid Pops. The sourest kind. You still owe me."
The gift allowed both of them to leave the conversation without forcing an apology into sentiment. Draco complained about Potions for several minutes, then departed before anyone could call the visit concern.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived near evening. Ron's forearm remained bandaged, though he could move his fingers. Hermione asked precise questions about Edward's injuries. Ron wanted to know whether the black dog had followed Scabbers into the forest.
"It did," Edward said. "Your rat chose its route quickly. Did he return?"
"This morning. He was inside my trunk and shaking like mad."
Harry said nothing. He watched Ron's bandage, then studied Edward with an intensity that made Hermione glance toward the ward door.
After several ordinary questions, Harry asked, "Can I speak to you alone?"
Ron looked surprised. Hermione did not.
Pomfrey allowed Edward a short walk if he remained inside the castle. Ron returned to Gryffindor Tower to check on Scabbers, and Hermione agreed to wait outside the hospital wing.
Edward led Harry toward the unused practice tower. Neither spoke on the stairs. Harry carried a folded piece of parchment inside his pocket and kept one hand over it as though afraid the words might escape.
At the top, Edward closed the door against the wind.
"I checked something for myself," Harry said. "Now I need you to tell me the truth about Sirius Black."