They tried the headmaster's offices first, but no amount of shouting or knocking or sweet-talking of the door could rouse a response. Harry was getting wound up, anxious to learn what had become of his godfather.

It was Hermione who finally said, "Oh, for goodness sake, what are we thinking? If Aberforth's hurt, he'll be in the hospital wing, and of course his brother would be there."

With that, the two set off through the halls at a run bound for the hospital wing.

They barged in without so much as a knock and startled a cluster of people standing around a hospital bed. The headmaster, Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Kimmy were surrounding a bed where a patient lay. Harry and Hermione could not see the man's face for the ring of worried visitors and the mediwitch, but they were not given much opportunity to gawk. In passing, they both noticed the prone, motionless figure of Draco Malfoy lying in a bed with bandages around his upper arms, lying as still as death in his induced coma, but he was not the reason they had burst into the medical wing and they paid him no heed. When Dumbledore turned at their abrupt entrance his expression darkened and he commanded in a resonating voice, "You should not be here, you two."

"Where's Sirius?" Harry demanded.

There was restless fidgeting from the bed at the utterance of the name, though nothing coherent as words issued forth. Kimmy's eyes, wide and fearful, turned to the shifting figure on the bed. Pomfrey shushed him and bent closer to administer some potion or charm to ease his discomfort.

Dumbledore was not amused by Harry's stubbornness. He looked sharply at McGonagall and gave a curt nod.

McGonagall at once left the bedside of the wounded man and began to force and usher Harry and Hermione out of the hospital wing with her unyielding presence. Harry and Hermione backed up before her, even as Harry repeated, "What's happened? I know that's Aberforth, and I know he was working with Sirius. Where's Sirius?"

When they were outside in the hallway, McGonagall closed the door and turned angrily to her two students. "Mister Potter! You would do well to contain yourself."

"But Sirius is in trouble!" he protested.

"And the headmaster's brother is gravely injured! Of all the insensitive things you could have done, marching in there and demanding of him when he may very well lose the last family member he has!"

Harry clamped his mouth shut and Hermione winced. "We're sorry, professor," Hermione said on their behalf. "We… we weren't thinking."

"I should expect not."

Harry's voice was calmer and quieter, though no less plaintive, when he said, "Please, professor, I'm sorry for shouting like that, but I have to know what's become of my godfather. Is he even still alive?"

McGonagall frowned. "He is… for now."

"When did it happen?" Harry asked, thinking with dread of his dream… not quite a vision-dream, but a sense of something wrong that had not let him be.

"A few hours ago, if I understand correctly."

"Where—"

"That's all I can tell you right now, Mister Potter. I won't have you doing anything rash in the state you're in."

"But—!"

"No, you've been enough of a disruption as it is. Have some consideration for the headmaster and his poor brother lying in there close to death. Someone will find you and give you more information later, at least what of it you need to know, but I must go back inside." With that dismissal, McGonagall turned and slipped back into the hospital wing. Harry jumped after her and, heedless of the reprimand he received for doing it once, tried to push open the door… only to find it had been locked shut.

Just as he was pulling out his wand to cast alohamoraHermione grabbed his forearm to stop him.

"Hermione!" Harry said shortly.

"I know you want to find out what's happened to Sirius, but making Dumbledore angry isn't going to help you," she said, and Harry lowered his arm in surrender.

"Well, what do we do? I have to know what's become of Sirius."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip a moment and Harry knew she had an idea when the light in her eyes changed. "Let's go," she said, and turned on her heel and hurried down the corridor.

Harry jogged to catch up. "Where?"

"My room… or yours, doesn't matter, we both have what we need."

"And what's that?"

"Kimmy's summoning sphere."

Harry's room ended up being all of a few steps closer, but that was enough to decide them. They scaled the stairs and threw open the dorm room door to find it empty.

"Ron must still be at lunch," Hermione noted while Harry went straight to his trunk and started to dig through the contents, throwing clothes and books in every direction in his search. Finally he produced the milky white globe. With a quick look at Hermione, he looked into the ball and called, "Kimmy."

The house elf's likeness appeared in the orb, then faded, and only a matter of seconds latter there were suddenly three in the room where before there had been two. Standing in front of Harry in plaid boxer shorts, Kimmy stood with hands twisting together.

Hermione had never seen an elf look so pale. She was ashen and her eyes seemed to bulge even more than usual, the green color glistening with unshed tears.

"Mister Harry Potter called upon Kimmy," she said in a quavering voice.

Hermione stepped closer and knelt next to the elf. "We're so sorry, Kimmy, about Aberforth."

Kimmy's lips trembled, but she did not cry. "Master Aberforth is being very badly hurt. Kimmy is fearful she will lose him."

Hermione pulled Kimmy into a hug and the house elf clung to Hermione. She let loose a high-pitch screeching sound, perhaps house elf grief, but she did not cry as a person would. Hermione patted her on the back and cast a 'give her a moment' look up at Harry. Harry, though impatient, had the decency to give their beloved house elf a minute to bemoan the fate of the wizard who was very much like a son to her.

"We're so very, very sorry, Kimmy," Hermione said gently, "we know how close you are to the Dumbledores. We hope he gets better."

"Kimmy hopes so with all her hoping," Kimmy replied, then she pulled away from Hermione. She turned sorrowful eyes to Harry. "Why did Mister Harry Potter call Kimmy away from her master when he is needing her so greatly?"

Harry grimaced at the unintended accusation. "I… I don't want to keep you, Kimmy, but I need you to tell me… I know Aberforth was working with Sirius Black trying to find Voldemort. I need to know what's happened to Sirius."

Kimmy blinked at him a moment.

"Please, Kimmy, Sirius Black is my godfather."

That seemed to sway Kimmy. "This is being a very tragic day for both Kimmy and Mister Harry Potter… Kimmy is very sorry for that."

Harry went nearly as pale as the house elf. "Is he… he isn't dead. McGonagall said he wasn't."

Kimmy shook her head. "Not being dead, but… it is still being very bad."

"Please tell us, Kimmy. We don't want to keep you from Aberforth any longer than we have to," Hermione coaxed softly.

Kimmy sat down on the floor and let out a shaky breath. "Sirius Black is being at Dane."

Hermione gasped and shot a stunned look up at Harry. "That's not very far from Hogsmeade."

Kimmy nodded. "Master Aberforth and Sirius Black were being there looking for You Know Who. They were finding him."

"Voldemort's in Dane?!" Hermione brought a hand to her mouth in shocked horror. "Oh, Merlin, he's been so close! Has he been there all this time?" She looked sickened by the thought, the devil practically in their backyard.

"Master Aberforth and Sirius Black were captured. Master Aberforth escaped and came here, for help and to tell what was being happening to them at Dane."

"The last Aberforth knew, Sirius was still in Dane?" Harry asked.

Kimmy nodded.

Harry went to one knee in front of Kimmy and touched her shoulder. "Thanks, Kimmy. You should get back to Aberforth. He needs you."

Kimmy gave a nod then vanished, leaving Harry's hand to rest on thin air.

Harry rose and put the sphere back in his trunk. Then he went to the closet and fetched his Firebolt.

Hermione jumped to her feet. "Harry… what do you think you're doing?"

"Going to Dane." He moved past her toward the stairs.

Hermione hurried after him. "Are you mad?! You can't! You know Voldemort's there!"

"And I know he has Sirius. I can't sit here and do nothing, Hermione. I have to help him."

Hermione grabbed his arm once in the common room and turned him to face her. "Harry, please, listen to me. You can't just rush off to face Voldemort like this, you'll get yourself killed!"

"What am I supposed to do? Sit here and hope for the best? Act like this isn't all because of me? This is my fault."

"Sirius made his own choice to hunt down Voldemort."

Harry should his head. "Sirius would never have gone looking for Voldemort if it wasn't for me."

"That doesn't mean you have to go charging in and giving Voldemort exactly what he wants!" Hermione yelled. "We'll contact the authorities, the ministry, tell them where Voldemort is, and they can throw everything they have at him."

"We can't trust the ministry," Harry retorted, "Moody said so. If you contact the ministry all that will do is risk Voldemort being tipped off that we know where he is. He could take Sirius anywhere if he knew Aurors were coming for him and we may never find Sirius, or Voldemort might just kill Sirius to be done with it! We can't go to the ministry and you know it.

"Right now, we know where Voldemort is and where he's holding Sirius. I'm going after him."

"For the love of Merlin, Harry, stop and think!" Hermione rounded him to stand in his path. Harry scowled at her but didn't shove her out of the way. It granted Hermione the floor. "You're right, for the moment we know where Voldemort is. Half the wizarding world has been looking for him for months, and right now we know where he is. We can't just throw that away on a half-cocked rescue mission for one man."

Harry bristled. "Are you suggesting I just let Voldemort have Sirius?"

"No… I… I'm suggesting that you look at the bigger picture. This could be the chance to finish Voldemort, if it's done right, if the right people are told, and if they act quickly enough. It could be the end of Voldemort, and that's bigger than any one man."

"Sacrifice Sirius, you mean," Harry said lowly.

Hermione went still. "You know Sirius would think it a fair trade. Just like you would in his place. Just like I would."

Harry grabbed Hermione's arm in his free hand, not in anger so much as the reflexive agony to think of her giving up her life, even if it was to rid the world of Voldemort. Hermione met his eyes in complete understanding, and Harry wanted to throw up at the thought of Hermione dying for any cause. No cause was enough to warrant her death, not even the salvation of the world. It would be sparing the moon only to throw away the sun.

But it wasn't her life in the balance, it was Sirius's.

"Hermione… I… I can't. I can't just leave him there."

"You may have to."

"I can't," he said in despair.

"You must."

Both teenagers looked up sharply at the third voice that had joined theirs, and they saw none other than Albus Dumbledore standing in the portrait hole of the the Gryffindor common room looking directly at Harry.

Harry and Hermione gaped at the headmaster. He looked more harried and worn than they had ever seen the wizened wizard. No one seemed to know quite what to say. It was a three-way stand-off between Harry, Hermione, and Dumbledore.

While they were standing around watching each other, giggles broke the silence. Oliver and Lavender, hands entwined, stumbled into the portrait hole behind Dumbledore, their heads close together, but they both drew up short and went silent when they saw the headmaster in the common room.

"Oh," Lavender said awkwardly, and Oliver dropped Lavender's hand. He looked uncomfortably between Dumbledore and then his two fellow Gryffindors. "Uh… sorry, we… didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"Harry, Hermione," Dumbledore said, "step outside with me. We'll walk." It was an order, not a request, and with no other choice Harry and Hermione sidled past Lavender and Oliver and followed Dumbledore into the corridor. It looked as though students were returning from lunch; for that reason, Dumbledore led them down a hallway that did not lead toward the Great Hall. It allotted them privacy, as no one was in that hallway.

Only when they were alone did Dumbledore speak. "That was shamefully underhanded of you two, to wheedle information out of Kimmy the way you did."

Hermione swallowed and Harry's face went pink with borderline humiliation to be chastised so plainly. "We… no one would tell us what was going on, what had happened to Sirius… we had to do something."

"And it did not once occur to you that perhaps your elders had things in hand." Dumbledore shook his head. "I had thought you, at least, would have more faith in your professors, Miss Granger."

"Are things in hand?" she asked pointedly.

Dumbledore scowled, and it was a very disquieting thing to see such a powerful's man face turn stormy. Luckily, it was not aimed at Harry and Hermione. "Professor McGonagall is in my office as we speak making contact with the right people, putting into motion the necessary preparations. Surely you would not think that information of this nature would go unused?"

Hermione replied with a glance at Harry, "Ha-we… weweren't really thinking all that clearly."

Dumbledore didn't point out the real culprit in that particular misdeed; there was no need. It was so obvious that they all might as well have said it.

"How did you get Kimmy to seek you out?" at the last, the headmaster finally looked down at the two students.

"Uhh… for Christmas she gave Harry and me summoning spheres," Hermione answered shyly.

Dumbledore mulled that over. "Interesting. Even I would not have suspected she presented you two with such invaluable bobbles. Though I am now doubly disappointed to think that you have taken advantage of her love for the both of you."

"We didn't… we needed help," Harry protested, "and she was the only one who cared enough to give it to us. Everyone else sent us away."

"You need perspective," Dumbledore countered harshly, and Harry pinched his lips together, his Firebolt still held tightly in one hand. "From what I overheard, Miss Granger has some idea of the gravity of the situation. I would suggest you listen to her as properly befits a husband."

Harry had no answer to that.

"How is Aberforth?" Hermione asked carefully.

Dumbledore sighed and he suddenly looked tired. "Madam Pomfrey is doing all she can. She believes she can save his life, though there is question if he will ever fly again. It's a wonder that he made it this far in his present condition."

"What about Sirius?" Harry asked after a pause.

"I will be leaving shortly for Hogsmeade, where I will meet with those trusted allies who are being called upon even as we speak. When we have sufficient numbers, and a viable plan, we will make for Dane. With the luck of Merlin on our side, this will all end today."

It was almost too immense to comprehend, the end of Voldemort. "But… what if that's not soon enough? How long will it take to gather everyone and come up with a plan? What if Voldemort kills Sirius?"

Dumbledore stopped and turned to face Harry squarely. Harry and Hermione halted before the headmaster. "Harry… I will do everything I can to save Sirius, his devotion and loyalty to our cause is beyond reproach and I would rejoice to see his name finally cleared with the ministry so that he might lead a normal life, but he is not top priority right now. He knows that as well as I do, as well as you do though you don't want to admit it. If we're too late to save Sirius… then we will make sure his loss was not in vain."

"I'm coming with you," Harry said.

"You are not."

"Sir! He's Voldemort's prisoner because of me! I can't just pretend like he's not in trouble because of me. I have to do something. I have to help him."

"The best way you can help him is to do as I say and stay out of harm's way. Sirius put himself on the line to protect you; what would all that he's done amount to if you walked right into Voldemort's hands?"

Harry searched for words, but he knew nothing would sway the headmaster.

"I have no more time to discuss this with you; I must leave for Hogsmeade. Harry… I must insist that you relinquish your broom."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

"Your broom," Dumbledore held out his hand.

Harry stared at Dumbledore's extended hand but there was nothing he could do to refuse. With great pains, he handed his beloved Firebolt over to the headmaster.

"You may have it back when this is over, I promise. And in case you were thinking of 'borrowing' transportation from the Quidditch locker, may I remind you that school brooms have charms placed on them that prevent them from leaving school grounds."

Harry's expression soured but he only nodded.

Dumbledore considered his two students a moment, Hermione looking dejected and fretful, Harry looking angry and helpless.

"Harry, Hermione…" Dumbledore said in a surprisingly soft voice.

Both students looked up at him. Dumbledore looked down at them, compassion glittering in his eyes. For all the discord only moments ago, he looked just then very much the gentle wizard who had watched over them for so many years. After a moment, their faces softened as they studied their headmaster.

Finally, Dumbledore nodded. "Better. I dreaded to think that this may be the last time I see either of you, and that it was with such loathing on your faces."

Hermione squeaked and leapt forward to wrap her arms around Dumbledore, surprising everyone, including Hermione. "We don't hate you, sir. Do be careful; you have to come back."

Dumbledore patted her on the back, still looking a bit thrown to have a student embrace him so strongly. "I'll certainly do my best; I have no wish to die today. Now that's quite enough, my dear, it won't do for me to show up at Hogsmeade to fight a war with a frog in my throat."

Hermione gave a strangled chuckle, almost a sob, and stepped away from Dumbledore. She stepped back to stand abreast with Harry and took his hand. Dumbledore gave them both a nod and turned and walked away. Impossible as it was to think of anyone besting Dumbledore, there was still the chance that it would be the last time they saw the headmaster alive. Harry watched Dumbledore walk away, and it became a precious name on a list that Harry kept in the back of his mind. His mother and father, Miranda, Jake, Berti, Sirius, and now Dumbledore. People that meant so much to him taken one by one by Voldemort.

Harry was tired of it. He wanted it to end. Today.

Hermione wrapped her hands around his arm. "He'll be okay," she said, mostly to herself. "He's Dumbledore, he'll be fine."

Harry nodded. "He'll be fine," he said, because he knew she needed to hear it.