Chapter 41: The Whisper of a Plan
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 41: The Whisper of a Plan
March finally arrived at Hogwarts.
The weather became warmer, and it was much more comfortable to walk outside the castle now. It also meant that the Easter holidays were approaching.
Harry was really looking forward to it. It would only be for a few days because it was a shorter break compared to Christmas, but he will finally have a chance to go home and see his family.
He never thought he would miss them so much. After all, he had only really known the Dursleys for a bit over a month after waking up in this strange world.
Perhaps it was the fact that he never knew what it felt like to have people truly care for you, but...in that short period of time, he had started to see Petunia, Vernon, and Duddley as his real family.
Also, this break meant that he could get away from Hogwarts and the watchful eyes of Albus Dumbledore.
The atmosphere at the school had become increasingly suffocating as the year went on, and Harry wasn't sure how much of that he could take before reaching his breaking point.
In the meantime, he had something to keep his mind occupied...he had been trying to find out more about the forbidden corridor and made full use of his new invisibility cloak to gather as much information as he could.
The mystery about that corridor had been gnawing at him nonstop. He needed to find out what was inside. Who was this prisoner?. Were they keeping Alistair's body in there, or all the students who had disappeared over the previous years?.
What kind of dark secret was Dumbledore keeping locked in that room?.
The possibilities turned over in his mind during classes, meals, or during the long sleepless hours of the night.
Because of this, he began doing reconnaissance during the first week of March.
Every night after dinner, he wrapped the silvery fabric around his shoulders and slipped out of the common room.
He walked the corridors for hours, invisible, watching, and listening.
The castle at night was a different world, and Harry moved through like a ghost.
He had memorised the patrol schedules. The Junior Inquisitors worked in rotating shifts, covering the main corridors between seven and eleven.
He noted their faces, their routes, and the times they passed certain points.
A tall, dark‑haired girl led the Monday team. A weedy boy with spectacles took Tuesdays. The Weasley twins patrolled together on Wednesdays.
Filch made his rounds at irregular intervals, always accompanied by Mrs Norris. The caretaker shuffled through the corridors with his lantern held low, his cat padding beside him.
Harry learned to recognise the sound of their approach...the soft pad of paws, the creak of Filch's knees, the faint jingle of his keys.
The prefects focused on the lower floors, leaving the upper levels relatively unguarded after nine. Harry spent most of his time on the third and fourth floors, mapping every corridor, every staircase, every hidden alcove.
He noted the positions of suits of armour that might creak. He marked tapestries that might hide passages. He identified portraits that were light sleepers...the ones that muttered and stirred when he passed, even though they could not see him.
He recorded everything in a small notebook he kept hidden in the Room of Requirement. The pages became filled with cramped handwriting, rough sketches, and coded symbols only he understood.
Harry also listened to everything they said, hoping to catch some important intel.
The Junior Inquisitors talked among themselves all the time as they patrolled. They talked about Quidditch, about exams, about the latest gossip.
But sometimes, when they passed the corridor leading to the third floor, their voices dropped to hushed whispers.
"… don't know what's behind that door, but the Headmaster doesn't want anyone near it…"
"… my cousin said a sixth‑year went inside years ago and just disappeared. No one's seen him since…"
"… they say there are runes on the inside of the door. Blood runes. The kind that can kill you if you touch them…"
Harry filed away every scrap of information.
But he soon realized that the students did not know the truth and were just speculating. They only knew rumours and half‑truths, whispered stories passed from year to year.
The only people who seemed to have real answers were Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape.
And Harry could not risk spying on them.
He had no delusions about being completely undetectable. The cloak was powerful, but he was a first‑year student with limited magical knowledge.
An experienced wizard like Snape or McGonagall might sense his presence...a flicker of displaced air, a faint whisper of magic, a cold draft where none should be.
If he were caught, his last credit point would disappear. And he would join Pansy. Any chance of discovering the mystery of the corridor would be gone.
So he waited, watched, and hoped for an opportunity.
One day, Harry thought that the opportunity came in the form of a letter delivered by owl directly to Draco's lap.
He received it during breakfast on one quiet Monday morning. It was a thick parchment sealed with the Malfoy crest.
He picked it up quickly, before too many eyes landed on him, and opened the letter.
His expression darkened.
The usual morning chatter around them faded into a dull roar as Harry leaned closer.
"What does it say?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low.
Draco's grey eyes were troubled. "My father's contacts have been asking around. Quietly, of course...they can't risk the Ministry noticing." He paused. "The Ministry refuses to comment on Pansy's case. They say her re‑education is 'confidential' and that her family will be notified when it is complete."
Crabbe's jaw tightened. "That could take months. Or years."
"Or never," Draco said quietly. He folded the letter and tucked it into his robes. "My father says the Ministry would sometimes refuse to release those in re-education. They keep them until they're… compliant. If that doesnt work...I." Draco stopped there, unable to finish the sentence, but they all knew what he was thinking.
Pansy could end up suffering the same fate as her brother.
Harry stared at his plate. The food had gone cold, but he did not notice.
The three of them sat in silence, the noise of the Great Hall washing over them unnoticed.
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The detention with Snape that evening was as tedious as ever.
Harry scrubbed cauldrons, organised ingredient stores, and polished glass vials until they gleamed.
His hands were raw by the end, his shoulders ached, and his mind was elsewhere.
The repetitive motions had become almost meditative...a way to pass the time while his mind worked on something else.
Snape sat at his desk, reading a thick, leather‑bound book. The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and the soft scrape of Harry's brush.
The green flames of the torches cast eerie shadows on the stone walls.
Then came the knock on the door. Three sharp knocks in quick succession
This startled Harry. Professor Snape would rarely get visits during his detention.
'Could it be...again?' Other than Hagrid, who had come a couple of times to request some insecticide to use on his private garden...the last person to visit Snape had been Professor McGonagall.
Snape looked up after hearing the sound, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features.
"Continue your work, Mr. Potter. Do not stop."
He rose and walked to the door, opening it just enough to slip through into the corridor. Harry heard the soft murmur of voices, but the words were muffled.
Harry's heart began to beat faster.
He set down his brush and crept toward the door, his footsteps silent on the cold stone. The fire crackled behind him, covering any sound he might make.
He pressed his ear against the wood, straining to hear.
"… the Headmaster has made a decision." The voice was McGonagall's, cold and precise. "He wants the prisoner moved before the end of the term."
"Moved?" Snape's voice was low, barely audible. "To where?"
"That is not your concern. Your concern is to prepare the necessary potions. He must be properly sedated for the journey. The last thing we need is another… incident."
There was a pause. Harry imagined Snape's dark eyes narrowing, his thin lips pressing together.
"How long do I have?" Snape asked.
"The end of the school term. The Headmaster will arrange the transfer during the final weeks of exams, when the castle is busy with examinations. No one will notice a few extra closed doors."
"I still don't understand why you keep him alive at all." Snape scoffed with annoyance. "So much extra work for everyone."
"He must have a good reason," McGonagal responded. "It is not our place to question his decisions. Just to follow his commands."
"I know..."
"Then get to work. You can order any ingredients that you need in the usual way."
Heels clicked on stone. The voices moved away, fading into the distance.
Harry stood frozen, his ear still pressed against the door.
'The prisoner,' he thought. They're going to move the prisoner before the end of term.'
This meant that if he didn't act before the end of the school year, he would lose his chance to find out Dumbledore's secret.
He forced himself to move, to return to his cauldron, to pick up his brush. When Snape came back a few minutes later, Harry was scrubbing diligently, his face blank.
Snape glared at him with his black eyes. Then, he returned to his desk without saying a word, and the detention continued in silence.
That night, Harry wrote in his diary about what he learned.
Draco and Crabbe had gone to sleep, and the fire had burned down to embers.
Harry sat on his bed, his back to the wall, his diary open on his knee.
"I finally have a lead. McGonagall visited Snape during detention tonight. They talked about moving a prisoner...someone being held on the third floor. They're going to transfer them before the end of term, in late June."
"The note said to wait until the last month of the last trimester...but what is going to happen?. If I wait too long, I may lose the chance."
"I still don't know who the prisoner is. It's definitely someone alive, and it must be someone dangerous as well, because even Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape sound very wary of this person...almost as if they're afraid of them."
"Alistair's body could still be in there as well. It's definitely the most secure place in the entire castle, so it is the perfect spot to hide something they dont want anyone to find out."
"If he is there...I will need to do something about it. If Pansy comes back, I want to give her some good news at least."
"Until the time is right, I will wait and keep my head down. When the moment comes, I will be ready."
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