luna helped elara to dumbledore's office. no comments of nargles were made and the walk was silent except for elara muttering the password.

the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; the wall behind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that was moving continuously upward like a spiral escalator. the three of them stepped onto the moving stairs; the wall closed behind them with a thud, and they were moving upward in tight circles until they reached the highly polished oak door with the brass knocker shaped like a griffin.

though it was now well past midnight, there were voices coming from inside the room, a positive babble of them. it sounded as though dumbledore was entertaining at least a dozen people.

elara didn't bother with the knocker. she rapped her fist on the wooden door once and pushed the doors open.

the room was in half darkness; the strange silver instruments standing on tables were silent and still rather than whirring and emitting puffs of smoke as they usually did. the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses covering the walls were all snoozing in their frames. behind the door, a magnificent red-and-gold bird the size of a swan dozed on its perch with its head under its wing.

"oh, hello, elara... and miss lovegood — "

dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him. he was wearing a magnificently embroidered purple-and-gold dressing gown over a snowy-white nightshirt, but seemed wide awake, his penetrating light-blue eyes fixed intently upon elara.

"professor," started elara quickly, "i've had a vision — arthur weasley, attacked — snake bites all over — he needs help — "

she stumbled over her words so much that only bits were coherent.

"was the snake — "

"it was nagini — please, professor, we need to help him — "

"this could very well be a vision of the future — "

"then prevent him from going on guard duty!" elara's strong voice rang through the study.

"you know very well not to interfere — "

"but that's just it, sir, something else happened — i saw a woman — "

the knocker on the door sounded three times before professor mcgonagall strode in with harry and ron. luna smiled merrily at them, but elara shot a rather withering glare at harry.

"oh, it's you, professor mcgonagall . . . and . . . ah."

"professor dumbledore, potter has had a . . . well, a nightmare," said professor mcgonagall. "he says . . ."

"it wasn't a nightmare," said harry quickly, with a side-glance to elara.

professor mcgonagall looked around at harry, frowning slightly. "very well, then, potter, you tell the headmaster about it."

"i . . . well, i was asleep. . . ." said harry. "but it wasn't an ordinary dream . . . it was real. . . . i saw it happen. . . ." he took a deep breath, "ron's dad — mr. weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake."

elara inhaled sharply. it was real. it was present. mr. weasley was in danger. dumbledores head snapped up.

"see?" cried elara incredulously. "we need to do something — "

"how did you see this?" dumbledore spoke over elara.

"well . . . i don't know," said harry, rather angrily. "inside my head, i suppose —"

"you misunderstand me," said dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. "i mean . . . can you remember — er — where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"

"i was the snake," he said. "i saw it all from the snake's point of view. . . ."

nobody else spoke for a moment, then dumbledore, now looking at ron, who was still whey-faced, said in a new and sharper voice, "is arthur seriously injured?"

"i've just told you this," said elara angrily.

"yes," said harry emphatically.

but dumbledore stood up so quickly that elara jumped, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling.

"everard?" he said sharply. "and you too, dilys!"

a sallow-faced wizard with short, black bangs and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.

"you were listening?" said dumbledore.

the wizard nodded, the witch said, "naturally."

"the man has red hair and glasses," said dumbledore. "everard, you will need to raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people —"

"now you listen," grumbled elara.

both nodded and moved sideways out of their frames, but instead of emerging in neighboring pictures (as usually happened at hogwarts), neither reappeared; one frame now contained nothing but a backdrop of dark curtain, the other a handsome leather armchair. elara noticed that many of the other headmasters and mistresses on the walls, though snoring and drooling most convincingly, kept sneaking peeks at her under their eyelids, and she suddenly understood who had been talking when they had knocked.

"everard and dilys were two of hogwarts's most celebrated Heads," dumbledore said, now sweeping around elara, luna, harry, ron, and professor mcgonagall and approaching the magnificent sleeping bird on his perch beside the door. "their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important wizarding institutions. as they are free to move between their own portraits they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere. . . ."

"but mr. weasley could be anywhere!" said harry.

"they know where he is," said elara coldly. "else they wouldn't have gone."

"please sit down, all four of you," said dumbledore, as though harry had not spoken. "everard and dilys may not be back for several minutes. . . . professor mcgonagall, if you could draw up extra chairs . . ."

professor mcgonagall pulled her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown and waved it; four chairs appeared out of thin air, straight-backed and wooden.

elara refused to sit down, and instead watched dumbledore stroke fawkes's plumed golden head with one finger. the phoenix awoke immediately. He stretched his beautiful head high and observed dumbledore through bright, dark eyes.

"we will need," said dumbledore very quietly to the bird, "a warning."

there was a flash of fire and the phoenix had gone.

dumbledore now swooped down upon one of the fragile silver in- struments whose function elara had never known, carried it over to his desk, sat down facing them again, and tapped it gently with the tip of his wand.

the instrument tinkled into life at once with rhythmic clinking noises. tiny puffs of pale green smoke issued from the minuscule silver tube at the top. dumbledore watched the smoke closely, his brow furrowed, and after a few seconds, the tiny puffs became a steady stream of smoke that thickened and coiled in the air. . . . a serpent's head grew out of the end of it, opening its mouth wide.

"naturally, naturally," murmured dumbledore apparently to himself, still observing the stream of smoke without the slightest sign of surprise. "But in essence divided?"

elara could make neither head nor tail of this question. the smoke serpent, however, split itself instantly into two snakes, both coiling and undulating in the dark air. with a look of grim satisfaction dumbledore gave the instrument another gentle tap with his wand: the clinking noise slowed and died, and the smoke serpents grew faint, became a formless haze, and vanished.

dumbledore replaced the instrument upon its spindly little table; elara saw many of the old headmasters in the portraits follow him with their eyes, then, realizing that elara was watching them, hastily pretend to be sleeping again. elara wanted to ask what the strange silver instrument was for, but before she could do so, there was a shout from the top of the wall to their right; the wizard called everard had reappeared in his portrait, panting slightly.

"dumbledore!"

"what news?" said dumbledore at once.

"i yelled until someone came running," said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, "said i'd heard something moving downstairs — they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check — you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. he doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, i ran along to elfrida cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left —"

"good," said dumbledore as ron made a convulsive movement, "i take it dilys will have seen him arrive, then —"

and moments later, the silver-ringletted witch had reappeared in her picture too; she sank, coughing, into her armchair and said, "yes, they've taken him to st. mungo's, dumbledore. . . . they carried him past under my portrait. . . . he looks bad. . . ."

"they'll need to act fast," said elara worriedly. "snake venom contains hemotoxin and it causes the blood to clump — they'll have to give him a deflating draught to reduce swelling to work on the wounds, but how they'll extract the venom, i don't know — "

"you're not helping," said ron rather weakly.

"minerva, i need you to go bring miss lovegood back to her common room, and go wake the other weasley children," said dumbledore.

"of course. . . ."

professor mcgonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door, luna following dreamily after.

"and dumbledore — what about molly?" said professor mcgonagall, pausing at the door.

"that will be a job for fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said dumbledore. "but she may already know . . . that excellent clock of hers . . ."

dumbledore was now rummaging in a cupboard behind elara, harry, and ron. he emerged from it carrying a blackened old kettle, which he placed carefully upon his desk. he raised his wand and murmured "portus"; for a moment the kettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light, then it quivered to a rest, as solidly black as ever.

dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted wearing the slytherin colors of green and silver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he could not hear dumbledore's voice when he attempted to rouse him.

"phineas. phineas."

and now the subjects of the portraits lining the room were no longer pretending to be asleep; they were shifting around in their frames, the better to watch what was happening. when the clever looking wizard continued to feign sleep, some of them shouted his name too.

"phineas! phineas! PHINEAS!"

he could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide.

"did someone call?"

"i need you to visit your other portrait again, phineas," said dumbledore. "i've got another message."

"visit my other portrait?" said phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long, fake yawn (his eyes traveling around the room and focusing upon elara). "oh no, dumbledore, i am too tired tonight. . . ."

"insubordination, sir!" roared a corpulent, red-nosed wizard, brandishing his fists. "dereliction of duty!"

"we are honor-bound to give service to the present headmaster of hogwarts!" cried a frail-looking old wizard whom elara recognized as dumbledore's predecessor, armando dippet. "shame on you, phineas!"

"shall i persuade him, dumbledore?" called a gimlet-eyed witch, raising an unusually thick wand that looked not unlike a birch rod.

"oh, very well," said the wizard called phineas, eyeing this wand slightly apprehensively, "though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done most of the family —"

"sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," said dumbledore. "you are to give him the message that arthur weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, elara lestrange, and harry potter will be arriving at his house shortly. do you understand?"

"arthur weasley, injured, wife and children, elara lestrange — i've always liked her — and harry potter coming to stay," recited phineas in a bored voice. "yes, yes . . . very well. . . ."

"professor, what does praedo malorum mean — "

elara was interrupted by the study door opening again. fred, george, and ginny were ushered inside by professor mcgonagall, all three of them looking disheveled and shocked, still in their night things.

"lara — what's going on?" asked ginny, who looked frightened. "professor mcgonagall says you and harry saw dad hurt —"

"your father has been injured in the course of his work for the order of the phoenix," said dumbledore before either elara or harry could speak. "he has been taken to st. mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries. i am sending you back to sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the burrow. you will meet your mother there."

"how're we going?" asked fred, looking shaken. "floo powder?"

"no," said dumbledore, "floo powder is not safe at the moment, the network is being watched. you will be taking a portkey." he indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. "we are just waiting for phineas nigellus to report back. . . . i wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you —"

there was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

"it is fawkes's warning," said dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "she must know you're out of your beds. . . . minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story —"

professor mcgonagall was gone in a swish of tartan.

"he says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind dumbledore; the wizard called phineas had reappeared in front of his slytherin banner. "my great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests. . . ."

"come here, then," dumbledore said to elara, harry, and the weasleys. "and quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ."

elara and the others gathered around dumbledore's desk.

"you have all used a portkey before?" asked dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. "good. on the count of three then . . . one . . . two . . . three."

she felt a powerful jerk behind her navel, the ground vanished from beneath her feet, her hand was glued to the kettle; she was banging into the others as all sped forward in a swirl of colors and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onward and then —

her feet hit the ground so hard that her knees buckled, but she managed to stay upright and instead slammed into the wall. the kettle clattered to the ground and somewhere close at hand a voice said, "back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying . . . ?"

"OUT!" roared a second voice.

they had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, grimmauld place. the only sources of light were the fire and one guttering candle, which illuminated the remains of a solitary supper. kreacher was disappearing through the door to the hall, looking back at them malevolently as he hitched up his loincloth; sirius was hurrying toward them all, looking anxious. he was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slightly mundungus-like whiff of stale drink about him.

"what's going on?" he said, stretching out a hand to help ginny up. "phineas nigellus said arthur's been badly injured —"

"ask harry and lara," said fred.

"yeah, i want to hear this for myself," said george.

the twins and ginny were staring at them. kreacher's footsteps had stopped on the stairs outside.

"i had a vision," said elara. "but, i'm not sure about harry."

"it was —" harry began; this was even worse than telling mcgonagall and dumbledore. "i had a — a kind of — vision — like lara. . . ."

and he told them all that he had seen, though he altered the story so that it sounded as though he had watched from the sidelines as the snake attacked, rather than from behind the snake's own eyes.

elara peered at him. ron, who was still very white, gave him a fleeting look, but did not speak. when harry had finished, fred, george, and ginny continued to stare at them for a moment. elara did not know whether she was imagining it or not, but she fancied there was something accusatory in their looks.

"is mum here?" said fred, turning to sirius.

"she probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," said sirius. "the important thing was to get you away before umbridge could interfere. i expect dumbledore's letting molly know now."

"we've got to go to st. mungo's," said ginny urgently. she looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pajamas. "sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything — ?"

"hang on, you can't go tearing off to st. mungo's!" said Sirius.

" 'course we can go to st. mungo's if we want," said fred, with a mulish expression, "he's our dad!"

"and how are you going to explain how you knew arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"

"what does that matter?" said george hotly.

"it matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that lara and harry are having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" said sirius angrily. "have you any idea what the ministry would make of that information?"

fred and george looked as though they could not care less what the ministry made of anything. ron was still white-faced and silent.