Ron and Hermione were sitting together in the common room when he came back. ‘What does Dumbledore want?’ Hermione said at once. ‘Harry, are you OK?’ she added anxiously.
‘I’m fine,’ said Harry shortly, racing past them. He dashed up the stairs and into his dormitory, where he flung open his trunk and pulled out the Marauder’s Map and a pair of balled-up socks. Then he sped back down the stairs and into the common room, skidding to a halt where Ron and Hermione sat, looking stunned.
‘I haven’t got much time,’ Harry panted, ‘Dumbledore thinks I’m getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen…’
Quickly he told them where he was going, and why. He did not pause either for Hermione’s gasps of horror or for Ron’s hasty questions; they could work out the finer details for themselves later.
‘… so you see what this means?’ Harry finished at a gallop. ‘Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!“ he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. ’I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here -‘ He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hand. ’You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape, too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the DA. Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?‘
‘Harry -’ began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.
‘ ? haven’t got time to argue,’ said Harry curtly. Take this as well -‘ He thrust the socks into Ron’s hands.
‘Thanks,’ said Ron. ‘Er — why do I need socks?’
‘You need what’s wrapped in them, it’s the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny too. Say goodbye to her from me. I’d better go, Dumbledore’s waiting -’
‘No!’ said Hermione, as Ron unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, looking awestruck. ‘We don’t want it, you take it, who knows what you’re going to be facing?’
‘I’Il be fine, I’ll be with Dumbledore,’ said Harry. ‘I want to know you lot are OK… don’t look like that, Hermione, I’ll see you later And he was off, hurrying back through the portrait hole towards the Entrance Hall.
Dumbledore was waiting beside the oaken front doors. He turned as Harry came skidding out on to the topmost stone step, panting hard, a searing stitch in his side.
‘I would like you to wear your Cloak, please,’ said Dumbledore, and he waited until Harry had thrown it on before saying, ‘Very good. Shall we go?’
Dumbledore set off at once down the stone steps, his own travelling cloak barely stirring in the still summer air. Harry hurried alongside him under the Invisibility Cloak, still panting and sweating rather a lot.
‘But what will people think when they see you leaving, Professor?’ Harry asked, his mind on Malfoy and Snape.
That I am off into Hogsmeade for a drink,‘ said Dumbledore lightly. ’I sometimes offer Rosmerta my custom, or else visit the Hog’s Head… or I appear to. It is as good a way as any of disguising one’s true destination.‘
They made their way down the drive in the gathering twilight. The air was full of the smells of warm grass, lake water and wood smoke from Hagrid’s cabin. It was difficult to believe that they were heading for anything dangerous or frightening.
‘Professor,’ said Harry quietly, as the gates at the bottom of the drive came into view, ‘will we be Apparating?’
‘Yes,’ said Dumbledore. ‘You can Apparate now, I believe?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry, ‘but I haven’t got a licence.’
He felt it best to be honest; what if he spoiled everything by turning up a hundred miles from where he was supposed to go?
‘No matter,’ said Dumbledore, ‘I can assist you again.’
They turned out of the gates into the twilit, deserted lane to Hogsmeade. Darkness descended fast as they walked and by the time they reached the High Street night was falling in earnest. Lights twinkled from windows over shops and as they neared the Three Broomsticks they heard raucous shouting.
‘— and stay out!’ shouted Madam Rosmerta, forcibly ejecting a grubby-looking wizard. ‘Oh, hello, Albus… you’re out late…’
‘Good evening, Rosmerta, good evening… forgive me, I’m off to the Hog’s Head… no offence, but I feel like a quieter atmosphere tonight…’
A minute later they turned the corner into the side street where the Hog’s Head’s sign creaked a little, though there was no breeze. In contrast to the Three Broomsticks, the pub appeared to be completely empty.
‘It will not be necessary for us to enter,’ muttered Dumbledore, glancing around. ‘As long as nobody sees us go… now place your hand upon my arm, Harry. There is no need to grip too hard, I am merely guiding you. On the count of three — one… two… three…’
Harry turned. At once, there was that horrible sensation that he was being squeezed through a thick rubber tube; he could not draw breath, every part of him was being compressed almost past endurance and then, just when he thought he must suffocate, the invisible bands seemed to burst open, and he was standing in cool darkness, breathing in lungfuls of fresh, salty air.
CHAPTER 26: The Cave
Harry could smell salt and hear rushing waves; a light, chilly breeze ruffled his hair as he looked out at moonlit sea and star-strewn sky. He was standing upon a high outcrop of dark rock, water foaming and churning below him. He glanced over his shoulder. A towering cliff stood behind them, a sheer drop, black and faceless. A few large chunks of rock, such as the one upon which Harry and Dumbledore were standing, looked as though they had broken away from the cliff face at some point in the past. It was a bleak, harsh view, the sea and the rock unrelieved by any tree or sweep of grass or sand.
“What do you think?” asked Dumbledore. He might have been asking Harry’s opinion on whether it was a good site for a picnic.
“They brought the kids from the orphanage here?” asked Harry, who could not imagine a less cozy spot for a day trip.
“Not here, precisely,” said Dumbledore. “There is a village of sorts about halfway along the cliffs behind us. I believe the orphans were taken there for a little sea air and a view of the waves. No, I think it was only ever Tom Riddle and his youthful victims who visited this spot. No Muggle could reach this rock unless they were uncommonly good mountaineers, and boats cannot approach the cliffs, the waters around them are too dangerous. I imagine that Riddle climbed down; magic would have served better than ropes. And he brought two small children with him, probably for the pleasure of terrorizing them. I think the journey alone would have done it, don’t you?”
Harry looked up at the cliff again and felt goose bumps.
“But his final destination — and ours — lies a little farther on. Come.”
Dumbledore beckoned Harry to the very edge of the rock where a series of jagged niches made footholds leading down to boulders that lay half-submerged in water and closer to the cliff. It was a treacherous descent and Dumbledore, hampered slightly by his withered hand, moved slowly. The lower rocks were slippery with seawater. Harry could feel flecks of cold salt spray hitting his face. “Lumos,” said Dumbledore, as he reached the boulder closest to the cliff face. A thousand flecks of golden light sparkled upon the dark surface of the water a few feet below where he crouched; the black wall of rock beside him was illuminated too. “You see?” said Dumbledore quietly, holding his wand a little higher. Harry saw a fissure in the cliff into which dark water was swirling. “You will not object to getting a little wet?”
“No,” said Harry.
“Then take off your Invisibility Cloak — there is no need for it now — and let us take the plunge,” And with the sudden agility of a much younger man, Dumbledore slid from the boulder, landed in the sea, and began to swim, with a perfect breaststroke, toward the dark slit in the rock face, his lit wand held in his teeth. Harry pulled off his cloak, stuffed it into his pocket, and followed. The water was icy; Harry’s waterlogged clothes billowed around him and weighed him down. Taking deep breaths that filled his nostrils with the tang of salt and seaweed, he struck out for the shimmering, shrinking light now moving deeper into the cliff. The fissure soon opened into a dark tunnel that Harry could tell would be filled with water at high tide. The slimy walls were barely three feet apart and glimmered like wet tar in the passing light of Dumbledore’s wand. A little way in, the passageway curved to the left, and Harry saw that it extended far into the cliff. He continued to swim in Dumbledore’s wake, the tips of his benumbed fingers brushing the rough, wet rock.
Then he saw Dumbledore rising out of the water ahead, his silver hair and dark robes gleaming. When Harry reached the spot he found steps that led into a large cave. He clambered up them, water streaming from his soaking clothes, and emerged, shivering uncontrollably, into the still and freezing air.