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the starry sky, Elara and Harry heaved Dumbledore onto the top of the nearest boulder and then to his feet. Sodden and shivering, Dumbledore's weight still upon her, Elara concentrated harder than she had ever done upon her destination: Hogsmeade. Closing her eyes, gripping Dumbledore's arm as tightly as she could, she stepped forward into that feeling of horrible compression.

She knew it had worked before she opened her eyes: The smell of salt, the sea breeze had gone. She, Harry and Dumbledore were shivering and dripping in the middle of the dark High Street in Hogsmeade.

For one horrible moment Elara's imagination showed her more Inferi creeping toward her around the sides of shops, but she blinked and saw that nothing was stirring; all was still, the darkness complete but for a few street lamps and lit upper windows.

"We did it, Professor!" whispered Harry. "We did it! We got the Horcrux!"

Dumbledore staggered against Harry. For a moment, Elara thought that her inexpert Apparition had thrown Dumbledore off balance; then she saw his face, paler and damper than ever in the distant light of a streetlamp.

"Professor, are you all right?" asked Elara worriedly.

"I've been better," said Dumbledore weakly, though the corners of his mouth twitched. "That potion . . . was no health drink. . . ."

And to Elara's horror, Dumbledore sank onto the ground.

"Sir — it's okay, sir, you're going to be all right, don't worry —"

Elara and Harry looked around desperately for help, but there was nobody to be seen and all she could think was that she must somehow get Dumbledore quickly to the hospital wing.

"We need to get you up to the school, Professor. . . . Madam Pomfrey . . ."

"No," said Dumbledore. "It is . . . Professor Snape whom I need. . . . But I do not think . . . I can walk very far just yet. . . ."

"Right — Professor, listen — I'm going to knock on a door, find a place you can stay — then I can run and get Madam —"

"Severus," said Dumbledore clearly. "I need Severus. . . ."

"All right then, Snape — but I'm going to have to leave you for a moment so I can —"

Before Elara could make a move, however, she heard running footsteps. Her heart leapt: Somebody had seen, somebody knew they needed help — and looking around she saw Madam Rosmerta scurrying down the dark street toward them on high-heeled, fluffy slippers, wearing a silk dressing gown embroidered with dragons.

"I saw you Apparate as I was pulling my bedroom curtains! Thank goodness, thank goodness, I couldn't think what to — but what's wrong with Albus?"

She came to a halt, panting, and stared down, wide-eyed, at Dumbledore.

"He's hurt," said Harry. "Madam Rosmerta, can he come into the Three Broomsticks while I go up to the school and get help for him?"

"You can't go up there alone! Don't you realize — haven't you seen — ?"

"If you help me support him," said Harry, not listening to her, "I think we can get him inside —"

"What has happened?" asked Dumbledore. "Rosmerta, what's wrong?"

"The — the Dark Mark, Albus."

And she pointed into the sky, in the direction of Hogwarts. Dread flooded Elara at the sound of the words. . . . she turned and looked. There it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters left behind whenever they had entered a building . . . wherever they had murdered. . . .

Elara's heart began pounding as flashes of the Quidditch World Cup came flooding back to her.

"When did it appear?" asked Dumbledore, and his hand clenched painfully upon Elara's shoulder as he struggled to his feet.

"Must have been minutes ago, it wasn't there when I put the cat out, but when I got upstairs —"

"We need to return to the castle at once," said Dumbledore. "Rosmerta" — and though he staggered a little, he seemed wholly in command of the situation — "we need transport — brooms —"

"I've got a few behind the bar," she said, looking very frightened. "Shall I run and fetch — ?"

"No, Elara can do it."

Elara raised her wand at once.

"Accio Rosmerta's Brooms!"

A second later they heard a loud bang as the front door of the pub burst open; three brooms had shot out into the street and were racing each other to Elara's side, where they stopped dead, quivering slightly at waist height.

"Rosmerta, please send a message to the Ministry," said Dumbledore, as he mounted the broom nearest him. "It might be that nobody within Hogwarts has yet realized anything is wrong. . . .Harry, put on your Invisibility Cloak."

"What about Elara?" asked Harry, pausing before he threw his cloak over himself.

"None would dare to attack Elara."

Harry hesitated before throwing it over himself and mounting his broom: Madam Rosmerta was already tottering back toward her pub as Elara, Harry, and Dumbledore kicked off from the ground and rose up into the air.

Elara clutched her broom like it was her lifeline. She refused to look down, and instead trained her sight on the Dark Mark. She barely noticed Anya's pendant growing warm against her skin.

How long had they been away? Had Ron, Hermione, or Ginny's luck run out by now? Was it one of them who had caused the Mark to be set over the school, or was it Neville, or Luna, oranother member of the D.A.? And if it was . . . she was the one who had told them to patrol the corridors, she had asked them to leave the safety of their beds. . . . Would she be responsible, again, for the death of a friend?

As they flew over the dark, twisting lane down which they had walked earlier, Elara heard, over the whistling of the night air in her ears, Dumbledore muttering in some strange language again. She thought she understood why as she felt her broom shudder when they flew over the boundary wall into the grounds: Dumbledore was undoing the enchantments he himself had set around the castle so they could enter at speed.

The Dark Mark was glittering directly above the Astronomy Tower, the highest of the castle. Did that mean the death had occurred there? Dumbledore had already crossed the crenellated ramparts and was dismounting; Elara landed ungracefully next to him seconds later and looked around as Harry came to a stop. The ramparts were deserted. The door to the spiral staircase that led back into the castle was closed. There was no sign of a struggle, of a fight to the death, of a body.

"What does it mean?" Harry asked Dumbledore, looking up at the green skull with its serpent's tongue glinting evilly above them. "Is it the real Mark? Has someone definitely been — Professor?"

In the dim green glow from the Mark, Elara saw Dumbledore clutching at his chest with his blackened hand.

"You two go and wake Severus," said Dumbledore faintly but clearly. "Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else, and do not remove your cloak. I shall wait here."

"But —"

"I can stay — "

"You swore to obey me — go!"

Elara and Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral staircase, but Elara's hand had only just closed upon the iron ring of the door when she heard running footsteps on the other side. She and Harry looked around at Dumbledore, who gestured them to retreat. They backed away, drawing their wand as they did so.

The door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

Elara's body became instantly rigid and immobile, and she felt herself fall back against the tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to move or speak. She could not understand how it had happened — Expelliarmus was not a Freezing Charm —Then, by the light of the Mark, she saw Dumbledore's wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts and understood. . . . Dumbledore had wordlessly immobilized Elara and Harry, and the second he had taken to perform the spell had cost him the chance of defending himself.

Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress.

He merely looked across at his disarmer and said, "Good evening, Draco."

Elara's heart dropped into her stomach. This is what Draco was being forced to do. He stepped forward, glancing around quickly to check that he and Dumbledore were alone. His eyes fell upon the second and third broom.

"Who else is here?"

"A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?"

Elara saw Draco's pale eyes shift back to Dumbledore in the greenish glare of the Mark.

"No," he said. "I've got backup. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight."

"Well, well," said Dumbledore, as though Draco was showing him an ambitious homework project. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

"Yeah," said Draco, who was panting. "Right under your nose and you never realized!"

"Ingenious," said Dumbledore. "Yet . . . forgive me . . . where are they now? You seem unsupported."

"They met some of your guards. They're having a fight down below. They won't be long. . . . I came on ahead. I — I've got a job to do."

"Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy," said Dumbledore softly.

There was silence. Elara stood imprisoned within her own invisible, paralyzed body, staring at the two of them, her ears straining to hear sounds of the Death Eaters' distant fight, and in front of him, Draco Malfoy did nothing but stare at Albus Dumbledore, who, incredibly, smiled.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" said Draco at once.

He seemed to realize how childish the words had sounded; Elara saw him flush in the Mark's greenish light.

"You don't know what I'm capable of," said Draco more forcefully. "You don't know what I've done!"

"Oh yes, I do," said Dumbledore mildly. "You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts. . . . So feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it."

"It has been in it!" said Draco vehemently. "I've been working on it all year, and tonight —"

Somewhere in the depths of the castle below Harry heard a muffled yell. Draco stiffened and glanced over his shoulder. Elara wanted nothing more than to break out of her paralyzation and try and talk Draco out of his plan.

"Somebody is putting up a good fight," said Dumbledore conversationally. "But you were saying . . . yes, you have managed to introduce Death Eaters into my school, which, I admit, I thought impossible. . . . How did you do it?"

But Draco said nothing: He was still listening to whatever was happening below and seemed almost as paralyzed as Elara was.

"Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone," suggested Dumbledore. "What if your backup has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps realized, there are members of the Order of the Phoenix here tonight too. And after all, you don't really need help. . . . I have no wand at the moment. . . . I cannot defend myself."

Draco merely stared at him.

"I see," said Dumbledore kindly, when Draco neither moved nor spoke. "You are afraid to act until they join you."

"I'm not afraid!" snarled Draco, though he still made no move to hurt Dumbledore. "It's you who should be scared!"

Elara tried to flinch as her pendant grew warmer, slightly burning her skin.

"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco. Killing is not nearly as easy as the innocent believe. . . . So tell me, while we wait for your friends . . . how did you smuggle them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to work out how to do it."

Draco looked as though he was fighting down the urge to shout, or to vomit. He gulped and took several deep breaths, glaring at Dumbledore, his wand pointing directly at the latter's heart.

Then, as though he could not help himself, he said, "I had to mend that broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year."

"Aaaah." Dumbledore's sigh was half a groan. He closed his eyes for a moment. "That was clever. . . . There is a pair, I take it?"

"In Borgin and Burkes," said Draco, "and they make a kind of passage between them. Montague told me that when he was stuck in the Hogwarts one, he was trapped in limbo but sometimes he could hear what was going on at school, and sometimes what was going on in the shop, as if the cabinet was traveling between them, but he couldn't make anyone hear him. . . . In the end, he managed to Apparate out, even though he'd never passed his test. He nearly died doing it. Everyone thought it was a really good story, but I was the only one who realized what it meant — even Borgin didn't know — I was the one who realized there could be a way into Hogwarts through the cabinets if I fixed the broken one."

"Very good," murmured Dumbledore. "So the Death Eaters were able to pass from Borgin and Burkes into the school to help you. . . . A clever plan, a very clever plan . . . and, as you say, right under my nose."

"Yeah," said Draco, who bizarrely seemed to draw courage and comfort from Dumbledore's praise. "Yeah, it was!"

"But there were times," Dumbledore went on, "weren't there, when you were not sure you would succeed in mending the cabinet? And you resorted to crude and badly judged measures such as sending me a cursed necklace that was bound to reach the wrong hands . . . poisoning mead there was only the slightest chance I might drink. . . ."

"Yeah, well, you still didn't realize who was behind that stuff, did you?" sneered Draco, as Dumbledore slid a little down the ramparts, the strength in his legs apparently fading, and Elara and Harry struggled fruitlessly, mutely, against the enchantment binding them.

"As a matter of fact, I did," said Dumbledore. "I was sure it was you."

"Why didn't you stop me, then?" Draco demanded.

"I tried, Draco. Professor Snape has been keeping watch over you on my orders —"

"He hasn't been doing your orders, he promised my mother —"

"Of course that is what he would tell you, Draco, but —"

"He's a double agent, you stupid old man, he isn't working for you, you just think he is!"

"We must agree to differ on that, Draco. It so happens that I trust Professor Snape —"

"Well, you're losing your grip, then!" sneered Draco. "He's been offering me plenty of help — wanting all the glory for himself — wanting a bit of the action — 'What are you doing?' 'Did you do the necklace, that was stupid, it could have blown everything —' But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favorite anymore, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!"

"Very gratifying," said Dumbledore mildly. "We all like appreciation for our own hard work, of course. But you must have had an accomplice, all the same . . . someone in Hogsmeade, someone who was able to slip Katie the — the — aaaah . . ."

Dumbledore closed his eyes again and nodded, as though he was about to fall asleep.

". . . of course . . . Rosmerta. How long has she been under the Imperius Curse?"

"Got there at last, have you?" Draco taunted.

There was another yell from below, rather louder than the last.

Draco looked nervously over his shoulder again, then back at Dumbledore, who went on: "So poor Rosmerta was forced to lurk in her own bathroom and pass that necklace to any Hogwarts student who entered the room unaccompanied? And the poisoned mead . . . well, naturally, Rosmerta was able to poison it for you before she sent the bottle to Slughorn, believing that it was to be my Christmas present. . . . Yes, very neat . . . very neat . . . Poor Mr. Filch would not, of course, think to check a bottle of Rosmerta's. Tell me, how have you been communicating with Rosmerta? I thought we had all methods of communication in and out of the school monitored."

"Enchanted coins," said Draco, as though he was compelled to keep talking, though his wand hand was shaking badly. "I had one and she had the other and I could send her messages — "

"Isn't that the secret method of communication the group that called themselves Dumbledore's Army used last year?" asked Dumbledore.

His voice was light and conversational, but Elara saw him slip an inch lower down the wall as he said it.

"Yeah, I got the idea from them," said Draco, with a twisted smile. "I got the idea of poisoning the mead from the Mudblood Granger as well, I heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing potions."

"Please do not use that offensive word in front of me," said Dumbledore.

Draco gave a harsh laugh.

"You care about me saying 'Mudblood' when I'm about to kill you?"

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore, and Elara saw his feet slide a little on the floor as he struggled to remain upright. "But as for being about to kill me, Draco, you have had several long minutes now, we are quite alone, I am more defenseless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you have not acted. . . ."

Draco's mouth contorted involuntarily, as though he had tasted something very bitter.

"Now, about tonight," Dumbledore went on, "I am a little puzzled about how it happened. . . . You knew that I had left the school? But of course," he answered his own question, "Rosmerta saw me leaving, she tipped you off using your ingenious coins, I'm sure."