The Heart of Gryffindor
by SJR0301
Part II - Chapter Eighteen
The day trailed away in the fashion that many other days had. As they were unable to get Harry's computer working and the technical department was busy with a delicate operation which no one would discuss, Harry had to look on with Johnny and Mac in order to keep track of the day’s activity. There were unusually few posts, though, which caused them to suppose that the site had been detected as false.
Bentley had missed their morning conference and only returned quite late in the afternoon. He seemed to have forgotten his request to Harry to bring the sword and spent the next half hour huddled in his office with Major Halsey and Lieutenant Daniels. Harry was dead curious to know what they were about, and he was chuffed when they called him and the others over to join them downstairs outside one of the holding rooms.
Through the large window, Harry could see that a man was seated at a scuffed old table. Both his hands and feet were cuffed and he looked exceedingly unhappy. He wore new looking jeans; a black silk shirt and a beret perched on his wavy blond hair.
In answer to Harry's inquiring look, Bentley said, "That's Howard Essex, one of Hayden's close associates. He insists he just works for Hayden as film assistant, but we're pretty sure he’s an active member of the Alliance. We'll be questioning him, and I want you to watch him and look for any inconsistencies and anything that gives him away." He paused and gave them all a stern look, "And say nothing unless I tell you to."
"All of us are going in?" Daniels asked doubtfully.
Bentley nodded. "I want him intimidated as far as possible. Unless our information is completely wrong, he may have helped mastermind the attempted bombing of the Metro Center."
They followed Bentley into the room, and although there were two other seats at the table, none of them sat down. Harry, Mac and Johnny leaned against the wall while Bentley and Halsey stood at either corner of the table opposite to the prisoner. To the prisoner's discomfort, Daniels elected to stand behind him, and Harry could see that this tactic had unnerved the man considerably, as he turned his yellow head slightly and then re-focused back to the front, his jaw tensed and his cuffed hands clasped. Harry was sure that the man thought he was putting on a front of indifference, but to his eyes, the man was indeed nervous, even afraid.
At a nod, Daniels uncuffed Essex, and Harry could see him relax visibly. He rubbed his wrists and Harry could almost sympathize, as he knew quite well how it felt to be restrained.
Halsey hit the button on a recorder and said, "This commences the interview with Howard Essex. This is an interview for information purposes only and the witness is not under arrest at this moment."
"I'm not?" Essex blurted out.
"Not at this time," Bentley replied. "Your cooperation will, of course, determine any future determinations." He stared at Essex and Essex smiled back at him as if bemused.
"That's fine. I have no problem cooperating," he said, "Like I told you earlier, I don't know anything about Mr. Hayden’s business. All I know is where he has to be for his next shoot." He smiled again and then looked quite serious, as though he were a child trying to please his new teacher. But like any unreformed delinquent, both his smile and his attentiveness struck false.
"Where were you on the day the Metro Center was attacked?" Bentley asked.
"At home in London," Essex answered promptly. "Mr. Hayden wasn't filming so I had the day off."
"Was anyone there with you?" Bentley followed up.
Essex contrived to look modestly embarrassed. "I picked up a bird and took her home. I'm afraid I forgot her name though. She thought I was going to help her get a part in a film, you know."
The interview continued on for some time. Bentley and Halsey asked questions and Essex answered. He knew nothing about the Metro Center attack. He knew nothing about Hayden's association with the Alliance. He was just a simple businessman hoping to become a producer of films some day.
After an hour, Bentley stepped back and turned to the three onlookers. "Any other questions or comments, gentlemen?"
"Seems like you covered everything," Mac answered.
Johnny nodded, Harry felt himself flush a little as he contradicted them.
"He's lying," he said flatly.
"What?" Essex exploded. "What is this, some kind of set up? And who are you to say I'm lying?"
"No set up," Bentley said coolly. He turned to Harry and said, "Go on and ask a question or two. I'll be the judge whether he’s lying or not."
Harry nodded and stepped forward, meeting Essex's gaze. His eyes were a funny light brown, almost yellow even, and Harry felt as though he were looking into the eyes of a wolf. He concentrated on keeping the wall in his mind complete and his face perfectly calm. If the man was an associate of Hayden's, it was quite possible that he was a wizard, and Harry wanted to be sure no attack could penetrate.
"Right," he said. "So, you've never had anything to do with the Alliance?"
"No," Essex answered almost disdainfully. "And I can't believe you're even old enough to be working here."
Harry ignored that and said, "That was a lie. How long have you been involved with the Alliance?"
The atmosphere in the room grew suddenly tense at Harry's repeated accusation.
"I don't have anything to do with them," Essex repeated. His face had flushed and he looked on the edge of bolting.
"And how long have Hayden and the Alliance been doing business with the Death Eaters?" Harry asked.
Essex's mouth opened just a little. "I don't know what you're talking about," he answered. But his face had gone a shade paler and a faint dew of sweat now shone on his face.
"That was another lie," Harry said calmly. "So," he continued, "was Hayden a Death Eater? Did he participate in any of the attacks led by Voldemort last year?"
Again Essex said, "I don’t know who...I don't know anything about that!" Except that he flinched visibly at the mention of Voldemort and Harry knew he had the man.
"That's another lie," he said pleasantly. "So, if I check with Minister Weasley, will I find out who you really are?"
"Weasley?" Bentley asked curiously, but Halsey said, "One of them, then?"
"I don't know," Harry, answered. "He's not one I knew of. But he does know what I'm talking about." He did not look away from Essex, but added coolly, "Don't you, Mr. Essex?"
"Who are you?" Essex asked forcefully. "You look familiar. I think I've seen you somewhere," he added accusingly.
Harry did not reply, but simply considered the man and tried to think what he ought to do. Something about the man's increasing nervousness worried him, though, so ignoring the possibility that he would be in trouble with the Ministry, he continued: "What about Malfoy then? What's he up to and is Hayden involved in that?"
Essex blinked and looked quite terrified. "I don't know anything," he whispered. "I'm not involved with that."
"So, you just work for Hayden and not for Malfoy?" Harry asked quickly.
Essex nodded and appeared to be relieved when Harry did not say once more that he was lying.
"But you do know what Hayden is up to," Harry said calmly.
"I don’t..." Essex said, and then he seemed to realize his mistake. He looked around the room and saw that each of the officers was now looking satisfied and certain of his guilt and he started to shiver though the room was quite warm and almost airless.
Essex sagged and said, "I'll tell you what I know, but you have to promise to keep me safe from them."
"Hayden or Malfoy?" Harry asked.
Bentley had turned to stare at him, but Harry kept his gaze on Essex. "Both," Essex answered, "But mostly Malfoy and that crazy witch he has working with him."
"Bellatrix," Harry asserted.
"Her, yeah," Essex said. "She's a madwoman, she is. I told him not to have anything to do with them, but he wouldn't listen." Essex looked even more scared now, and his yellowish eyes darted about the room as though he might detect some unseen listener.
"Go on," Harry prompted.
"He, Hayden, that is, he thinks he can get what he wants by using them. He thinks they'll help him if he helps them. He doesn't realize..."
"He doesn't realize," Harry continued, "that there isn't room for two to hold power where Voldemort's concerned."
Essex shuddered and said, "You said his name. Don't say the Dark Lord’s name!" He stared at Harry and added, "Who the devil are you, that you say his name so cavalierly?"
Harry raised his eyebrows and said, "I guess you don't take the Daily Prophet do you, or you'd know who I am." Deliberately, he pushed the fringe off his forehead and said, "They call me the Boy Who Lived."
Essex leapt out of his chair and tried to flee, but Mac and Johnny caught him and shoved him back in his seat.
"What the devil..." Bentley started to say again, but Halsey stopped him and said, "Go on, Harry. Let's hear what he knows about Malfoy." He stopped then, as though something had knocked him sideways and said, "Now wait a minute. What did you mean about there not being room for two? Whatsis Name's dead, isn't he?"
Harry nodded and turned back to Essex who was looking more scared than ever.
"So,' he asked, "what does Hayden think he'll get from Malfoy? Does he think Malfoy will really support him?"
Essex nodded, clearly relieved not to have to talk about Voldemort. "He thinks Malfoy will help him find the sword of power. And the cup."
"The Sword?" Harry prompted.
"Excalibur," Johnny said. "He's hung up on King Arthur, remember?"
"So you know that already," Essex commented.
"And what, exactly, does Hayden think he can do with King Arthur's sword?" Bentley asked, "if he could even find it? If it ever existed?" He was looking quite puzzled and irritated, as he must have understood that he was missing something entirely.
"Well, obviously, it's a sword of power," Essex answered. His yellow eyes had lost their fear now and they gleamed with passion of a fanatic's. "He can use it as a weapon, an unbeatable weapon. He can claim the kingdom with that sword."
"Hogwash," Bentley said.
"It is not," Essex answered. "Hayden is descended from the Anglo-Saxon kings. His claim to the throne is older than the present pretender's."
Harry rolled his eyes and said, "What about the cup? Where does that come in?"
"Together with the Sword," Essex answered, "he will have such power that none can withstand him. Malfoy thinks he is looking for what can't be found and so he thinks to use Hayden to gain him more followers. But he's wrong."
"And what cup is that?" Harry asked. He had a niggling feeling that he ought to know, but all that came back to him was the hazy memory of sleeping through a lesson with the ghost professor of history, Binns.
"The Holy Grail," Johnny said. "I can't believe you don't know about that."
"Oh," Harry said, feeling particularly stupid, "right."
"This is a joke," Bentley said. "I want to know what Hayden and you had to do with the Metro attack."
"Nothing," Essex said.
"That's a lie," Harry objected. "Don't think," he added warningly, "that you can get away with any lies here. You were involved and you helped plan that attack." He considered Essex coldly and saw that the man flinched once more. The color faded away from his face again and he said, "How do you know?"
Harry shrugged and said deliberately, "It's one talent I share in common with Voldemort. I know when people lie." He waited and then said, "Tell me more about Hayden's plan. Does he actually know where the Sword and Cup are located?"
Essex shook his head. "I don't know. He wouldn't tell even me if he did."
"I don't understand something," Johnny cut in. Harry looked at him and waited curiously for him to continue. "What makes Hayden think he can use the Grail? According to legend, only the purest knight could get into the Grail Castle and touch it."
"It's an artifact of great magic power," Essex answered, "and any magic artifact can be used by any wizard powerful enough to wield it. They say it's guarded by the most terrible enchantments and you have to get past the Fisher King in order to get it."
Harry was stunned. He closed his mouth quickly and hoped no one had noticed. In his mind, he saw the image of the fisherman king holding out a goblet full of light. This was something, he vowed, that Hayden would never lay hands on. Essex continued to look nervous and to shift in his seat. His yellow eyes had fastened on the clock on the wall; it was seven o'clock. There was something more here, and Harry had the feeling that they had forgotten something very important, though he could not think what.
"What about Malfoy?" Harry asked abruptly. "You said you aren't involved with him. But you know what he's up to."
Once again, Essex looked frightened and he shook his head. "I'm not talking about that. He'll kill me, or she will. I'm not one of them anyway."
"When?" Harry asked in response. He understood quite suddenly that time had run out and all of their efforts at stopping the Death Eaters might now go for naught.
"I don't know!" Essex whispered. Again, he shot darting looks about, as though he were being watched, but Harry didn't have time for the man's fear.
"Where?" he demanded instead.
"Look, Potter," Bentley said. "I've given you free reign here..."
But Essex had started at the utterance of Harry's name and he said in a hurry, "At Hayden's hotel. The manor. He's lent it to Malfoy for the attempt."
His mouth had gone quite dry and Harry recalled from the pictures they had studied that the hotel was quite a huge piece of property. "Where exactly?" he asked again. "Help me!" he pleaded. "They've got to be stopped. We'll let you off charges here, if you'll give us the information we need now."
"They'll kill me!" Essex answered.
"They'll have to get through me first," Harry answered grimly.
Bentley stopped him then and said, "Potter, outside! Now!" Clearly, the deputy was furious with Harry for promising Essex an escape, but Essex, seeing his chances of clemency disappearing said instantly, "At this place on the grounds that the hotel calls Merlin's Cup. It's a hollow, an old burial ground of some kind."
Harry nodded at Essex and said, "You'll be safe enough here for now." He turned to Halsey and said, "We have to go now. If we don't, it'll be too late."
"Just a minute," Bentley said coldly. "Last I heard I was the superior officer here. We go nowhere and do nothing on this information without my orders."
"But, sir," Harry protested, "they have to be stopped immediately!"
"Stopped from what?" Bentley asked. "I don't recall him saying what they were doing tonight that requires our immediate response."
Harry spared a quick glance for Halsey and answered, "They're going to try to bring Voldemort back. That's what we have to stop. And if they succeed, he'll start a reign of terror that will make last year's look like a children's game."
"The so-called Lord of Death?" Bentley said incredulously. "He's dead. That's not possible. Now I've heard enough old wives tales today."
"Is it?" Halsey asked.
Harry looked at the major and knew that he was the only one who could convince Bentley. "It's possible, yes. Almost unheard of, certainly, but possible. When he was alive," he added reluctantly, "Voldemort could possess others, animals and people. They'll offer him a host to possess permanently. That's what they'll do."
"Ridiculous," Bentley sputtered.
"It's true," Essex said loudly. "They're going to try tonight. I heard Malfoy telling Hayden about it. He wanted Hayden to come back over from France to be there."
"And is he?" Bentley shot out.
Essex bit his lip and said, "I don't know."
Bentley looked at Harry and said sourly, "Well, is he lying?"
Harry shook his head; hardly daring to believe the deputy would listen.
Bentley’s dark eyes narrowed and he said thoughtfully, "Whatever they're up to, if the information is good that they’ll all meet tonight, we could haul in the lot of them, couldn't we?"
"That's right," Halsey said. "The only problem is, it's a good couple of hours to York by plane and longer by helicopter or car." He turned back to Harry and frowned. "And I don't know about you going, Potter. They'll kill you instantly if you show your face there tonight."
"And how do you propose to fight them without me?" Harry asked.
"That's what Bones is here for," Halsey replied.
"He's not here," Bentley interjected. "He and his team went off this afternoon on some lead and they haven't returned." Harry waited for Bentley's decision, but the deputy looked at him doubtfully. Before he could say anything further, however, a commotion distracted him. He put his head out of the door of the interview room and then ducked as something flew at him.
"There's a bird out there," he said. He stepped out again and the others followed. Several security officers were chasing two birds with broomsticks. The Muggle kind, unfortunately. "I don't know how they got in, sir!" an officer said. He ducked as the larger bird flew at him. Harry was inclined to gawp a second himself, but he collected himself and sped out to the center of the larger room and called, "Hedwig! Come here!" The others were all gawking at him now and Harry tried to figure out whose bird the other owl must be.
Hedwig clucked, scolding him and the other bird. "Have you got something for me?" Harry asked. Hedwig hooted again, and Harry realized that it was the other bird that had the message. "Come on, then," he said soothingly, and the other bird landed on a desk and stuck its foot out. It was a handsome eagle owl and it hooted insistently as Harry opened the message.
"Explain yourself!" Bentley said sharply. "What kind of circus is this?"
"It's not a circus," Harry replied grimly. "The white bird is mine. The other one belongs to – " a funny feeling of terror jabbed at him as he read the name aloud – "Draco Malfoy."
"Malfoy!"
"His son," Harry explained. "I went to school with Draco."
"Well, why doesn’t he just call you your phone?" Bentley asked with irritation.
Harry sighed. "He's a wizard, sir. Wizards don't use phones. They use owls to send messages."
"Never mind the explanations," Halsey interrupted. "What does it say?"
"Potter," the message read,
"I never thought I would ask you for anything, but if you are alive like the Prophet says you are, I'm asking for your help. My Dad is going to try to bring back the Dark Lord tonight. You might wonder why I'm interfering, and why I'm asking you to help. The fact is, I don't know who else can stop this. They're planning on using the baby – mine by Pansy – for the re-birthing, and I won't have it. The Dark Lord killed my mother. I don't intend to let him come back and take my child, even if it is the one Pansy had just to try to make me marry her. You've stopped him before. I know you'll come and stop him again, for the baby, not for me. And if you happen to kill my Dad while you're at it, I assure you; I'll dance on his grave. It's tonight at a place called the Hollow in Yorkshire." Draco. "P.S. Don't think this makes us friends, either."
"That tears it," Harry said, "I've got to go." The eagle owl clucked at him and he said, "All right, I'm going right away." The bird flew in circles and Harry understood that it could not get out. He grabbed a pen and scribbled on the back of Draco's letter, "Professor Dumbledore, We need you now. Please read this letter, as it will tell you everything you need to know. Harry."
"It could be a trap," Johnny said.
"Yeah, it could," Harry, said, "but I'm still going."
"I haven't given you permission to go anywhere," Bentley cut in. "I want more of an explanation before I order a helicopter to get us to York this evening."
"There isn't time for a helicopter," Harry replied, "or even a plane." He could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise and he was certain that they had very little time to get there. A large weight hung in the pit of his stomach and he wondered where on earth Hermione and Ron had got. He would have felt much better if they were with him.
"Then how do you expect to get there?" Bentley asked. "And you are not going until I give you permission," he insisted again.
"It's seven thirty at night, sir," Harry replied. "I think I'm free to go anywhere I like when I'm off shift."
"Not when you're going somewhere that we believe is related to a security investigation, you're not," Bentley answered curtly. He seemed to be waiting for Harry to answer, "Yes, sir," but Harry did not. Instead, he drew his wand from his boot and deliberately pointed it at the nearest window. "Evanesco," he said, and the glass disappeared. He tossed Hedwig off his arm and she flew out into the night like a small ghost; she was followed by the eagle owl, which hooted mournfully as though its master had already died.
Bentley stopped in astonishment, but followed after Harry as Harry strode back up to his cubicle and retrieved his sword.
"He really is a wizard," Halsey said. "It's why we hired him as young as he is."
Impatiently, Harry stripped the paper wrapping off of his sword and undid the disillusionment charm. The gray leather changed to crimson and he drew out his sword and repeated the spell again. Essex trailed along behind them and he drew his breath at the sight of the sword. "You are him, aren't you?"
Harry turned as he added, "You are the Boy Who Lived. And talk about swords of power –" he breathed.
Harry considered him briefly and said, "You, Mr. Essex, will stay here."
"Oh, good," Essex said faintly. "I assure you, I don't want to be anywhere near there tonight, in any case."
Harry regarded him narrowly and said, "I don't suppose you do. But just to make sure you don't disappear before you can give us the rest of the information about Hayden," he added, as he flicked the sword and cast a nearly invisible wall about the Alliance man. He didn't bother to finish his sentence and he didn't stop to worry when the lights flickered several times. Essex sat down on a chair within the wall and looked both fearful and angry. At Harry’s stare, he quailed again, but again, Harry did not waste breath on the man.
Bentley had not stopped looking astonished and he said now, "I suppose you plan on getting us to York by magic?"
"Exactly," Harry said coolly. He pointed his sword at a small lamp sitting on his desk and said, "Portus." The lamp glowed blue and Harry said, "On the count of three, place your hand on the lamp. All you have to do is touch it and it'll take you with it."
At three, they all touched it and Harry felt the familiar jerk at his navel that told him his portkey had worked. They landed in a stand of trees in the bitter cold of a Yorkshire night. Through the trees, light glimmered, and Harry moved quickly forward, followed by the others and crouched above the lip of the place called the Hollow by the locals and Merlin's Cup by the hotel.
The others crouched beside Harry and Bentley actually drew his gun. Harry laid a hand on his arm and said as softly as possible, "Don't! Don't draw attention to yourself or they’ll kill you." Bentley didn’t answer. His gaze was focused on the scene below with fascination and horror and purest loathing. Harry could not but agree. For perhaps the first time in his life he truly understood why Muggles like his Aunt Petunia so loathed and feared magic and all things magic.
The Hollow was actually a rounded ravine, which some ancient lake had once filled. The walls of the Hollow sloped down sharply to the center of the ancient lakebed nearly fifteen feet below. The far side, however, was low and open, so that the entire opening appeared to be the mouth of a goblet, but tipped drunkenly on its side. Tall monolithic stones formed a simple stone ring and at the center the great stone cauldron looked as though the original creators of the ring had hewed it. Beneath the cauldron, a fire blazed brightly and shot off venomous green sparks from time to time. The green glare of the fire was the only light available, except for a similar glow issuing from the inside of the cauldron. The sky above was utterly dark.
Not a star shone, and the moon, which should have been nearly full, was hidden behind a black cloud, which was not a cloud at all. Rather, it appeared as if a hole had opened up in the night sky so that looking up at it, Harry had the feeling that he was looking at the mouth of a tornado into the very interior of a whirlwind; only the air was completely still and the earth had ceased to breathe. Even as he caught his breath in terror, the hole in the sky lowered down and it seemed as though the void inside of the whirlwind was turning inside out, and darkness tangible was descending toward the center.
All around the stone ring, a battle raged and Harry took in its details in the space of but a second. Ron and Hermione and Ginny were there and Bones and Dumbledore and Draco Malfoy, as well as others. Hooded Death Eaters, some no doubt new recruits, or perhaps wizard followers of Hayden come to assist in Voldemort’s re-birth, circled the great cauldron and formed a shield around it to prevent interference with the nearly completed spell. At any other time, Harry might have felt wounded that his friends had left him out of this; but not then.
In the very center Bellatrix Lestrange stood with a small bundle held upward in offering toward the dark. A few feet away, a body sprawled – Pansy Parkinson, Harry identified. Pity filled him and rage, for the dead girl and for her child. Even as he drew his sword and prepared to join the fray, Draco Malfoy burst through the line, and flung a curse at Bellatrix. Not a Killing Curse, as the child held by Bellatrix would almost certainly die with her. As he flung the curse, he yelled, "Not mine!" It was a wild cry, the words almost undistinguishable. From the other end, a Death Eater ripped his hood off and turned his back on the fight as well, his exposed head as pale as Draco's and in feature nearly identical in the fury and hatred displayed.
Bellatrix cried out a final word as the descending void continued its inexorable progress toward the small bundle she offered and a chill, colder and far bitterer than any arctic gale, flooded the Hollow. Simultaneously, and with extraordinary speed, she flicked her wand back at Draco and the green light of the Killing Curse flung him back. She screamed with joy, but from behind her back, another curse was flung as Lucius Malfoy struck out. Harry was never sure whether the curse had been meant for Bellatrix or for his own son, but as all this occurred in the seconds he first arrived, there was no time for thought at all. There was only one chance, only one thing to do. He leapt from the edge of the Hollow down to the very center, falling and rolling back up and swinging his sword to take the only action possible to stop the abomination that was about to occur.
