Chapter Thirty-Four
"Gathering"

Page Two

Fred Weasley sat anxiously at the head table, twiddling his thumbs, his eyes darting from one end of the Great Hall to the other. The fear resonated throughout the room, amplified by every student who sat nervously on the floor. He wished so desperately he could escape somehow. Snape hadn't prepared him for this…

"Fred," Professor Flitwick sidled next to Fred and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Are you alright?"

Fred swallowed hard and turned to look at Professor Flitwick. "I'm alright, just a little hungry, I suppose."

Professor Flitwick nodded. "You're right… they haven't eaten in quite some time, have they… I'll get to work on conjuring up something."

Fred looked back out at the students, huddled together in tight corners, clinging to any hope they could find amongst the dust bunnies and shadows.

"Maybe you should get some rest…" suggested Flitwick, still staring up at Fred's eyes, worried beyond belief. "You've done a wonderful job minding the children, but Fred, you need some sleep."

"I'll be fine," replied Fred, looking down at the table. "I'll be better once I get something in my stomach."

Professor Flitwick hurried through the mass of students, asking them what they'd care to eat. He decided a little personal choice might boost their spirits. He hadn't gotten far from the head table, however, when they began to hear something pounding on the main doors. Fred instinctively rose from the table and George poked his head up from underneath his sleeping bag behind the head table.

"Not again…" muttered Fred, expecting the worst. They had been lucky the last time they heard the pounding of someone trying desperately to get inside. Surely, he thought, their luck had run out.

"Fred," stammered George, crawling out of his sleeping bag. "Do you think… could it be Madam Pomfrey?"

"I don't think she can pound like that…"

Suddenly, they heard a massive cracking sound, an image of snapping wood flashed into everyone's minds. Whatever it was had just broken through the thick oak doors of the castle.

"Here it comes," sighed Fred.

* * *

"They've locked it from the inside," sputtered Madam Pomfrey, her windswept, sopping-wet hair clinging to her face. She sat atop a centaur, watching Barcis try to get in through the main doors of Hogwarts. Snape, Harry and Sirius had been laid across the backs of three other centaurs. They looked as if they were in a deep sleep, dreaming pleasant things. She had never seen anything so effective; the minute the centaur's blood had touched the wounds of Snape, she could see the ribs reform right before her eyes. They said Lelani would experience the pain Snape felt for the rest of her life, but it was a sacrifice worth giving. Her ribs would ache, her left side would forever be weak. She would feel the animal surges from Black's days in Azkaban. And she would feel the emotional turmoil of growing up without one's parents. Madam Pomfrey was grateful for such benevolence. However, the thought of passing on one's ailments to another, she thought, is truly a magnificent gift, but an awfully high price to pay on one's conscience. It would be a burden they'd bear for the rest of their lives as well.

"With your permission, Madam," said Barcis, turning to face Madam Pomfrey, "May I break down the doors? There is no other way in."

Madam Pomfrey nodded hurriedly as Barcis took a few steps back, and then ran toward the door with fearsome determination. He lowered his shoulders and rammed into the doors with his head bowed. The doors gave way, splintering from one side to the other and crashing to the floor with a tremendous bang.

Barcis stepped over the rubble and motioned to the others to do the same. They walked into the entrance hall and stared at the large doors that led into the great hall.

"May I go in first?" asked Madam Pomfrey. "They're probably frightened to death."

Barcis nodded and the centaur that carried Madam Pomfrey dropped to his knees, allowing her an easier dismount. She crawled down and stepped toward the doors. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted through the doors, "It's me! Professor Flitwick, open the doors!"

Inside the Great Hall, Fred looked apprehensively at Professor Flitwick. They had both heard the message clearly, but were unsure of what to do. Professor Flitwick looked at the door and stepped to it, regardless of his misgivings. He pulled out his wand, muttered, "Alohomora," and the doors clicked open. His eyes grew wide when he saw Madam Pomfrey, soaked to the bone, standing in front of five very large, very wet centaurs.

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