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Harry was so relieved that she was taking him seriouslythat he did not hesitate, but jumped out of bed at once,pulled on his dressing gown, and pushed his glasses backonto his nose.

"Weasley, you ought to come too," said ProfessorMcGonagall.

They followed Professor McGonagall past the silentfigures of Neville, Dean, and Seamus, out of the dormitory,down the spiral stairs into the common room, through theportrait hole, and off along the Fat Lady's moonlit corridor.Harry felt as though the panic inside him might spill over atany moment; he wanted to run, to yell for Dumbledore. Mr.Weasley was bleeding as they walked along so sedately, andwhat if those fangs (Harry tried hard not to think "myfangs") had been poisonous? They passed Mrs. Norris, whoturned her lamplike eyes upon them and hissed faintly, butProfessor McGonagall said, "Shoo!" Mrs. Norris slunk awayinto the shadows, and in a few minutes they had reachedthe stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore'soffice.

"Fizzing Whizbee," said Professor McGonagall.

The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; the wallbehind it split in two to reveal a stone staircase that wasmoving continuously upward like a spiral escalator. Thethree of them stepped onto the moving stairs; the wallclosed behind them with a thud, and they were movingupward in tight circles until they reached the highlypolished oak door with the brass knocker shaped like agriffin.

Though it was now well past midnight, there were voicescoming from inside the room, a positive babble of them. Itsounded as though Dumbledore was entertaining at least adozen people.

Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffinknocker, and the voices ceased abruptly as though someonehad switched them all off. The door opened of its ownaccord and Professor McGonagall led Harry and Ron inside.

The room was in half darkness; the strange silverinstruments standing on tables were silent and still ratherthan whirring and emitting puffs of smoke as they usuallydid. The portraits of old headmasters and headmistressescovering the walls were all snoozing in their frames. Behindthe door, a magnificent red-and-gold bird the size of a swandozed on its perch with its head under its wing.

"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall ... and ... ah."

Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind hisdesk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelightilluminating the papers laid out before him. He was wearinga magnificently embroidered purple-and-gold dressinggown over a snowy-white nightshirt, but seemed wideawake, his penetrating light-blue eyes fixed intently uponProfessor McGonagall.

"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a ... well, anightmare," said Professor McGonagall. "He says ..."

"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly.

Professor McGonagall looked around at Harry, frowningslightly.

"Very well, then, Potter, you tell the headmaster about it."

"I ... well, I was asleep. ..." said Harry and even in histerror and his desperation to make Dumbledore understandhe felt slightly irritated that the headmaster was notlooking at him, but examining his own interlocked fingers."But it wasn't an ordinary dream ... it was real. ... I saw ithappen. ..." He took a deep breath, "Ron's dad — Mr.Weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake."

The words seemed to reverberate in the air after he hadsaid them, slightly ridiculous, even comic. There was apause in which Dumbledore leaned back and staredmeditatively at the ceiling. Ron looked from Harry toDumbledore, white-faced and shocked.

"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, stillnot looking at Harry. 

"Well ... I don't know," said Harry, rather angrily — whatdid it matter? "Inside my head, I suppose —"

"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in thesame calm tone. "I mean ... can you remember — er —where you were positioned as you watched this attackhappen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, orelse looking down on the scene from above?"

This was such a curious question that Harry gaped atDumbledore; it was almost as though he knew ...

"I was the snake," he said. "I saw it all from the snake'spoint of view. ..."

Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, nowlooking at Ron, who was still whey-faced, said in a new andsharper voice, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Yes," said Harry emphatically — why were they all soslow on the uptake, did they not realize how much a personbled when fangs that long pierced their side? And whycould Dumbledore not do him the courtesy of looking athim?

But Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry jumped,and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very nearthe ceiling.

"Everard?" he said sharply. "And you too, Dilys!"

A sallow-faced wizard with short, black bangs and anelderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame besidehim, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest ofsleeps, 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 isfound by the right people —"

Both nodded and moved sideways out of their frames, butinstead of emerging in neighboring pictures (as usuallyhappened at Hogwarts), neither reappeared; one framenow contained nothing but a backdrop of dark curtain, theother a handsome leather armchair. Harry noticed thatmany of the other headmasters and mistresses on the walls,though snoring and drooling most convincingly, keptsneaking peeks at him under their eyelids, and he suddenlyunderstood who had been talking when they had knocked.

"Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts's mostcelebrated Heads," Dumbledore said, now sweeping aroundHarry, Ron, and Professor McGonagall and approaching themagnificent sleeping bird on his perch beside the door."Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging inother important Wizarding institutions. As they are free tomove between their own portraits they can tell us what maybe happening elsewhere. ..."

"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" said Harry.

"Please sit down, all three of you," said Dumbledore, asthough Harry had not spoken. "Everard and Dilys may notbe back for several minutes. ... Professor McGonagall, if youcould draw up extra chairs ..."

Professor McGonagall pulled her wand from the pocket ofher dressing gown and waved it; three chairs appeared outof thin air, straight-backed and wooden, quite unlike thecomfortable chintz armchairs that Dumbledore hadconjured back at Harry's hearing. Harry sat down,watching Dumbledore over his shoulder. Dumbledore wasnow stroking Fawkes's plumed golden head with one finger.The phoenix awoke immediately. He stretched his beautifulhead high and observed Dumbledore through bright, darkeyes.

"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 fragilesilver instruments whose function Harry had never known,carried it over to his desk, sat down facing them again, andtapped it gently with the tip of his wand. 

The instrument tinkled into life at once with rhythmicclinking noises. Tiny puffs of pale green smoke issued fromthe minuscule silver tube at the top. Dumbledore watchedthe smoke closely, his brow furrowed, and after a fewseconds, the tiny puffs became a steady stream of smokethat thickened and coiled in the air. ... A serpent's headgrew out of the end of it, opening its mouth wide. Harrywondered whether the instrument was confirming his story:He looked eagerly at Dumbledore for a sign that he wasright, but Dumbledore did not look up.

"Naturally, naturally," murmured Dumbledore apparentlyto himself, still observing the stream of smoke without theslightest sign of surprise. "But in essence divided?"

Harry could make neither head nor tail of this question.The smoke serpent, however, split itself instantly into twosnakes, both coiling and undulating in the dark air. With alook of grim satisfaction Dumbledore gave the instrumentanother gentle tap with his wand: The clinking noise slowedand died, and the smoke serpents grew faint, became aformless haze, and vanished.

Dumbledore replaced the instrument upon its spindlylittle table; Harry saw many of the old headmasters in theportraits follow him with their eyes, then, realizing thatHarry was watching them, hastily pretend to be sleepingagain. Harry wanted to ask what the strange silverinstrument was for, but before he could do so, there was ashout from the top of the wall to their right; the wizardcalled Everard had reappeared in his portrait, pantingslightly. 

"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, "saidI'd heard something moving downstairs — they weren'tsure whether to believe me but went down to check — youknow there are no portraits down there to watch from.Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn'tlook good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to ElfridaCragg's portrait to get a good view as they left —"

"Good," said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsivemovement, "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then—"

And moments later, the silver-ringletted witch hadreappeared in her picture too; she sank, coughing, into herarmchair and said, "Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's,Dumbledore. ... They carried him past under my portrait. ...He looks bad. ..."

"Thank you," said Dumbledore. He looked around atProfessor McGonagall.

"Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasleychildren."

"Of course. ..."

Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to thedoor; Harry cast a sideways glance at Ron, who was nowlooking terrified.

"And Dumbledore — what about Molly?" said ProfessorMcGonagall, pausing at the door.

"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finishedkeeping a lookout for anybody approaching," saidDumbledore. "But she may already know ... that excellentclock of hers ..."

Harry knew Dumbledore was referring to the clock thattold, not the time, but the whereabouts and conditions ofthe various Weasley family members, and with a pang hethought that Mr. Weasley's hand must, even now, bepointing at "mortal peril." But it was very late. ... Mrs.Weasley was probably asleep, not watching the clock. ...And he felt cold as he remembered Mrs. Weasley's boggartturning into Mr. Weasley's lifeless body, his glasses askew,blood running down his face. ... But Mr. Weasley wasn'tgoing to die. ... He couldn't. ... 

Dumbledore was now rummaging in a cupboard behindHarry and Ron. He emerged from it carrying a blackenedold kettle, which he placed carefully upon his desk. Heraised his wand and murmured "Portus"; for a moment thekettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light, then itquivered to a rest, as solidly black as ever.

Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this timeof a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who hadbeen painted wearing the Slytherin colors of green andsilver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he couldnot hear Dumbledore's voice when he attempted to rousehim.

"Phineas. Phineas."

And now the subjects of the portraits lining the roomwere no longer pretending to be asleep; they were shiftingaround in their frames, the better to watch what washappening. When the clever-looking wizard continued tofeign sleep, some of them shouted his name too. 

"Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!"

He could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerkand 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 theroom and focusing upon Harry). "Oh no, Dumbledore, I amtoo tired tonight. ..."

Something about Phineas's voice was familiar to Harry.Where had he heard it before? But before he could think,the portraits on the surrounding walls broke into a storm ofprotest.

"Insubordination, sir!" roared a corpulent, red-nosedwizard, brandishing his fists. "Dereliction of duty!"

"We are honor-bound to give service to the presentHeadmaster of Hogwarts!" cried a frail-looking old wizardwhom Harry recognized as Dumbledore's predecessor,Armando Dippet. "Shame on you, Phineas!"

"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?" called a gimlet-eyedwitch, raising an unusually thick wand that looked notunlike a birch rod. 

"Oh, very well," said the wizard called Phineas, eyeingthis wand slightly apprehensively, "though he may well havedestroyed my picture by now, he's done most of the family—"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," saidDumbledore, and Harry realized immediately where he hadheard Phineas's voice before: issuing from the apparentlyempty frame in his bedroom in Grimmauld Place. "You areto give him the message that Arthur Weasley has beengravely injured and that his wife, children, and Harry Potterwill be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"

"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and HarryPotter coming to stay," recited Phineas in a bored voice."Yes, yes ... very well. ..."He sloped away into the frame of the portrait anddisappeared from view at the very moment that the studydoor opened again. Fred, George, and Ginny were usheredinside by Professor McGonagall, all three of them lookingdisheveled and shocked, still in their night things.

"Harry — what's going on?" asked Ginny, who lookedfrightened. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt—"

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work forthe Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore before Harrycould speak. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital forMagical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back toSirius's house, which is much more convenient for thehospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."

"How're we going?" asked Fred, looking shaken. "Floopowder?"

"No," said Dumbledore, "Floo powder is not safe at themoment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking aPortkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on hisdesk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to reportback. ... I wish to be sure that the coast is clear beforesending you —"

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

"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching thefeather 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 behindDumbledore; the wizard called Phineas had reappeared infront of his Slytherin banner. "My great-great-grandson hasalways had odd taste in houseguests. ..."

"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry and theWeasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us ..."

Harry and the others gathered around Dumbledore'sdesk.

"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore,and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part ofthe blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three then ...one ... two ..."

It happened in a fraction of a second: In the infinitesimalpause before Dumbledore said "three," Harry looked up athim — they were very close together — and Dumbledore'sclear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry's face.

At once, Harry's scar burned white-hot, as though the oldwound had burst open again — and unbidden, unwanted,but terrifyingly strong, there rose within Harry a hatred sopowerful he felt, for that instant, that he would like nothingbetter than to strike — to bite — to sink his fangs into theman before him — 

"... three."

He felt a powerful jerk behind his navel, the groundvanished from beneath his feet, his hand was glued to thekettle; he was banging into the others as all sped forward ina swirl of colors and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling themonward and then —

His feet hit the ground so hard that his knees buckled, thekettle clattered to the ground and somewhere close at handa voice said, "Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it truetheir father's dying ... ?"

"OUT!" roared a second voice. 

Harry scrambled to his feet and looked around; they hadarrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve,Grimmauld Place. The only sources of light were the fireand one guttering candle, which illuminated the remains ofa solitary supper. Kreacher was disappearing through thedoor to the hall, looking back at them malevolently as hehitched up his loincloth; Sirius was hurrying toward themall, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in his dayclothes; there was also a slightly Mundungus-like whiff ofstale drink about him.

"What's going on?" he said, stretching out a hand to helpGinny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badlyinjured —"

"Ask Harry," said Fred.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George. 

The twins and Ginny were staring at him. Kreacher'sfootsteps had stopped on the stairs outside.

"It was —" Harry began; this was even worse than tellingMcGonagall and Dumbledore. "I had a — a kind of — vision...."

And he told them all that he had seen, though he alteredthe story so that it sounded as though he had watched fromthe sidelines as the snake attacked, rather than frombehind the snake's own eyes. ... Ron, who was still verywhite, gave him a fleeting look, but did not speak. WhenHarry had finished, Fred, George, and Ginny continued tostare at him for a moment. Harry did not know whether hewas imagining it or not, but he fancied there was somethingaccusatory in their looks. Well, if they were going to blamehim for just seeing the attack, he was glad he had not toldthem that he had been inside the snake at the time. ...

"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 awaybefore Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore'sletting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," said Ginny urgently. Shelooked around at her brothers; they were of course still intheir pajamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything —?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" saidSirius.

" '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 Arthurwas 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 tothe fact that Harry is having visions of things that arehappening hundreds of miles away!" said Sirius angrily."Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of thatinformation?"

Fred and George looked as though they could not careless what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was stillwhite-faced and silent. Ginny said, "Somebody else couldhave told us. ... We could have heard it somewhere otherthan Harry. ..."

"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. "Listen, your dad'sbeen hurt while on duty for the Order and thecircumstances are fishy enough without his childrenknowing about it seconds after it happened, you couldseriously damage the Order's —"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" shouted Fred.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" yelled George.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won'tthank you for messing things up for the Order!" said Siriusangrily in his turn. "This is how it is — this is why you're notin the Order — you don't understand — there are thingsworth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" bellowed Fred. "I don'tsee you risking your neck!" 

The little color remaining in Sirius's face drained from it.He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hitFred, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of determinedcalm. "I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as thoughwe don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at leastuntil we hear from your mother, all right?"

Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however,took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it.Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movementsomewhere between a nod and shrug, and they sat downtoo. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then tookseats on either side of Ginny.

"That's right," said Sirius encouragingly, "come on, let'sall ... let's all have a drink while we're waiting. AccioButterbeer!"

He raised his wand as he spoke and half a dozen bottlescame flying toward them out of the pantry, skidded alongthe table, scattering the debris of Sirius's meal, andstopped neatly in front of the six of them. They all drank,and for a while the only sounds were those of the cracklingof the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on thetable. 

Harry was only drinking to have something to do with hishands. His stomach was full of horrible hot, bubbling guilt.They would not be here if it were not for him; they would allstill be asleep in bed. And it was no good telling himself thatby raising the alarm he had ensured that Mr. Weasley wasfound, because there was also the inescapable business of itbeing he who had attacked Mr. Weasley in the first place. ...

Don't be stupid, you haven't got fangs, he told himself,trying to keep calm, though the hand on his butterbeerbottle was shaking. You were lying in bed, you weren'tattacking anyone. ...

But then, what just happened in Dumbledore's office? heasked himself. I felt like I wanted to attack Dumbledore too....

He put the bottle down on the table a little harder than hemeant to, so that it slopped over onto the table. No one tookany notice. Then a burst of fire in midair illuminated thedirty plates in front of them and as they gave cries of shock,a scroll of parchment fell with a thud onto the table,accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather. 

"Fawkes!" said Sirius at once, snatching up theparchment. "That's not Dumbledore's writing — it must bea message from your mother — here —"

He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped itopen and read aloud, "Dad is still alive. I am setting out forSt. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news assoon as I can. Mum."

George looked around the table.

"Still alive ..." he said slowly. "But that makes it sound ..."

He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded toHarry too as though Mr. Weasley was hovering somewherebetween life and death. Still exceptionally pale, Ron staredat the back of his mother's letter as though it might speakwords of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out ofGeorge's hands and read it for himself, then looked up atHarry, who felt his hand shaking on his butterbeer bottleagain and clenched it more tightly to stop the trembling.

If Harry had ever sat through a longer night than this onehe could not remember it. Sirius suggested once that theyall go to bed, but without any real conviction, and theWeasleys' looks of disgust were answer enough. Theymostly sat in silence around the table, watching the candlewick sinking lower and lower into liquid wax, now and thenraising bottles to their lips, speaking only to check the time,to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure oneanother that if there was bad news, they would knowstraightaway, for Mrs. Weasley must long since have arrivedat St. Mungo's.

Fred fell into a doze, his head sagging sideways onto hisshoulder. Ginny was curled like a cat on her chair, but hereyes were open; Harry could see them reflecting thefirelight. Ron was sitting with his head in his hands,whether awake or asleep it was impossible to tell. And heand Sirius looked at each other every so often, intrudersupon the family grief, waiting ... waiting ...

And then, at ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch,the kitchen door swung open and Mrs. Weasley entered thekitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all turnedto look at her, Fred, Ron, and Harry half-rising from theirchairs, she gave a wan smile. 

"He's going to be all right," she said, her voice weak withtiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later.Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morningoff work."

Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face.George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to theirmother, and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh anddowned the rest of his butterbeer in one.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to hisfeet. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher!KREACHER!"

But Kreacher did not answer the summons. 

"Oh, forget it, then," muttered Sirius, counting the peoplein front of him. "So it's breakfast for — let's see — seven ...Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"

Harry hurried over to the stove to help. He did not wantto intrude upon the Weasleys' happiness, and he dreadedthe moment when Mrs. Weasley would ask him to recounthis vision. However, he had barely taken plates from thedresser when Mrs. Weasley lifted them out of his hands andpulled him into a hug.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't beenfor you, Harry," she said in a muffled voice. "They might nothave found Arthur for hours, and then it would have beentoo late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore'sbeen able to think up a good cover story for Arthur beingwhere he was, you've no idea what trouble he would havebeen in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis. ..."

Harry could hardly stand her gratitude, but fortunatelyshe soon released him to turn to Sirius and thank him forlooking after her children through the night. Sirius saidthat he was very pleased to have been able to help, andhoped they would all stay with him as long as Mr. Weasleywas in hospital.

"Oh, Sirius, I'm so grateful. ... They think he'll be there alittle while and it would be wonderful to be nearer ... Ofcourse, that might mean we're here for Christmas. ..."

"The more the merrier!" said Sirius with such obvioussincerity that Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, threw on anapron, and began to help with breakfast.

"Sirius," Harry muttered, unable to stand it a momentlonger. "Can I have a quick word? Er — now?"

He walked into the dark pantry and Sirius followed.Without preamble Harry told his godfather every detail ofthe vision he had had, including the fact that he himself hadbeen the snake who had attacked Mr. Weasley. 

When he paused for breath, Sirius said, "Did you tellDumbledore this?"

"Yes," said Harry impatiently, "but he didn't tell me whatit meant. Well, he doesn't tell me anything anymore. ..."

"I'm sure he would have told you if it was anything toworry about," said Sirius steadily.

"But that's not all," said Harry in a voice only a littleabove a whisper. "Sirius, I ... I think I'm going mad. ... Backin Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey ...for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I feltlike one — my scar really hurt when I was looking atDumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —"

He could only see a sliver of Sirius's face; the rest was indarkness.

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all,"said Sirius. "You were still thinking of the dream orwhatever it was and —"

"It wasn't that," said Harry, shaking his head. "It was likesomething rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me—"

"You need to sleep," said Sirius firmly. "You're going tohave breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then youcan go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You're inshock, Harry; you're blaming yourself for something youonly witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it or Arthurmight have died. Just stop worrying. ..."

He clapped Harry on the shoulder and left the pantry,leaving Harry standing alone in the dark. 

Everyone but Harry spent the rest of the morningsleeping. He went up to the bedroom he had shared withRon over the summer, but while Ron crawled into bed andwas asleep within minutes, Harry sat fully clothed, hunchedagainst the cold metal bars of the bedstead, keeping himselfdeliberately uncomfortable, determined not to fall into adoze, terrified that he might become the serpent again inhis sleep and awake to find that he had attacked Ron, orelse slithered through the house after one of the others. ...

When Ron woke up, Harry pretended to have enjoyed arefreshing nap too. Their trunks arrived from Hogwartswhile they were eating lunch, so that they could dress asMuggles for the trip to St. Mungo's. Everybody exceptHarry was riotously happy and talkative as they changedout of their robes into jeans and sweatshirts, and theygreeted Tonks and Mad-Eye, who had turned up to escortthem across London, gleefully laughing at the bowler hatMad-Eye was wearing at an angle to conceal his magicaleye and assuring him, truthfully, that Tonks, whose hair wasshort and bright pink again, would attract far less attentionon the underground.

Tonks was very interested in Harry's vision of the attackon Mr. Weasley, something he was not remotely interestedin discussing.

"There isn't any Seer blood in your family, is there?" sheinquired curiously, as they sat side by side on a trainrattling toward the heart of the city. 

"No," said Harry, thinking of Professor Trelawney andfeeling insulted.

"No," said Tonks musingly, "no, I suppose it's not reallyprophecy you're doing, is it? I mean, you're not seeing thefuture, you're seeing the present. ... It's odd, isn't it?Useful, though ..."

Harry did not answer; fortunately they got out at the nextstop, a station in the very heart of London, and in the bustleof leaving the train he was able to allow Fred and George toget between himself and Tonks, who was leading the way.They all followed her up the escalator, Moody clunkingalong at the back of the group, his bowler tilted low and onegnarled hand stuck in between the buttons of his coat,clutching his wand. Harry thought he sensed the concealedeye staring hard at him; trying to deflect more questionsabout his dream he asked Mad-Eye where St. Mungo's washidden.

"Not far from here," grunted Moody as they stepped outinto the wintry air on a broad store-lined street packed withChristmas shoppers. He pushed Harry a little ahead of himand stumped along just behind; Harry knew the eye wasrolling in all directions under the tilted hat. "Wasn't easy tofind a good location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alleywas big enough and we couldn't have it underground likethe Ministry — unhealthy. In the end they managed to gethold of a building up here. Theory was sick wizards couldcome and go and just blend in with the crowd. ..." 

He seized Harry's shoulder to prevent them beingseparated by a gaggle of shoppers plainly intent on nothingbut making it into a nearby shop full of electrical gadgets.

"Here we go," said Moody a moment later.

They had arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red brickdepartment store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. The placehad a shabby, miserable air; the window displays consistedof a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standingat random and modeling fashions at least ten years out ofdate. Large signs on all the dusty doors read CLOSED FORREFURBISHMENT. Harry distinctly heard a large womanladen with plastic shopping bags say to her friend as theypassed, "It's never open, that place. ..."

"Right," said Tonks, beckoning them forward to a windowdisplaying nothing but a particularly ugly female dummywhose false eyelashes were hanging off and who wasmodeling a green nylon pinafore dress. "Everybody ready?"

They nodded, clustering around her; Moody gave Harryanother shove between the shoulder blades to urge himforward and Tonks leaned close to the glass, looking up atthe very ugly dummy and said, her breath steaming up theglass, "Wotcher ... We're here to see Arthur Weasley."

For a split second, Harry thought how absurd it was forTonks to expect the dummy to hear her talking that quietlythrough a sheet of glass, when there were buses rumblingalong behind her and all the racket of a street full ofshoppers. Then he reminded himself that dummies couldnot hear anyway. Next second his mouth opened in shock asthe dummy gave a tiny nod, beckoned its jointed finger, andTonks had seized Ginny and Mrs. Weasley by the elbows,stepped right through the glass and vanished.

Fred, George, and Ron stepped after them; Harry glancedaround at the jostling crowd; not one of them seemed tohave a glance to spare for window displays as ugly as Purgeand Dowse Ltd.'s, nor did any of them seem to have noticedthat six people had just melted into thin air in front of them.

"C'mon," growled Moody, giving Harry yet another pokein the back and together they stepped forward throughwhat felt like a sheet of cool water, emerging quite warmand dry on the other side. 

There was no sign of the ugly dummy or the space whereshe had stood. They had arrived in what seemed to be acrowded reception area where rows of witches and wizardssat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectlynormal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly,others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephanttrunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests. The roomwas scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many ofthe patients were making very peculiar noises. A sweatyfaced witch in the center of the front row, who was fanningherself vigorously with a copy of the Daily Prophet, keptletting off a high-pitched whistle as steam came pouring outof her mouth, and a grubby-looking warlock in the cornerclanged like a bell every time he moved, and with eachclang his head vibrated horribly, so that he had to seizehimself by the ears and hold it steady.

Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking upand down the rows, asking questions and making notes onclipboards like Umbridge's. Harry noticed the emblemembroidered on their chests: a wand and bone, crossed.

"Are they doctors?" he asked Ron quietly.

"Doctors?" said Ron, looking startled. "Those Mugglenutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"Over here!" called Mrs. Weasley over the renewedclanging of the warlock in the corner, and they followed herto the queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at adesk marked inquiries. The wall behind her was covered innotices and posters saying things like A CLEAN CAULDRONKEEPS POTIONS FROM BECOMING POISONS andANTIDOTES ARE ANTI-DON'TS UNLESS APPROVED BY AQUALIFIED HEALER.

There was also a large portrait of a witch with long silverringlets that was labelled 

DILYS DERWENTST.

MUNGO'S HEALER 1722–1741

HEADMISTRESS OF HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF

WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, I74I–I768 

Dilys was eyeing the Weasley party as though countingthem; when Harry caught her eye she gave a tiny wink,walked sideways out of her portrait, and vanished.

Meanwhile, at the front of the queue, a young wizard wasperforming an odd on-the-spot jig and trying, in betweenyelps of pain, to explain his predicament to the witch behindthe desk.

"It's these — ouch — shoes my brother gave me — ow —they're eating my — OUCH — feet — look at them, theremust be some kind of — AARGH — jinx on them and I can't— AAAAARGH — get them off —"

He hopped from one foot to the other as though dancingon hot coals.

"The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" said theblonde witch irritably, pointing at a large sign to the left ofher desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like itsays on the floor guide. Next!"

The wizard hobbled and pranced sideways out of the way,the Weasley party moved forward a few steps and Harryread the floor guide: 

ARTIFACT ACCIDENTS . . . . . . . . . . .Ground Floor

(Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc.)CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES . . . . . First Floor(Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc.)

MAGICAL BUGS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Second Floor

(Contagious maladies, e.g., dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrofungulus)

POTION AND PLANT POISONING . . . . Third Floor

(Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable giggling, etc.)

SPELL DAMAGE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Fourth Floor

(Unliftable jinxes, hexes, and incorrectly applied charms, etc.)

VISITORS' TEAROOM AND HOSPITAL SHOP. ... .Fifth Floor

If you are unsure where to go, incapable, of normal speech, or unable toremember why you are here, our Welcome Witch will be pleased to help.

A very old, stooped wizard with a hearing trumpet hadshuffled to the front of the queue now.

"I'm here to see Broderick Bode!" he wheezed.

"Ward forty-nine, but I'm afraid you're wasting yourtime," said the witch dismissively "He's completely addled,you know, still thinks he's a teapot. ... Next!"

A harassed-looking wizard was holding his small daughtertightly by the ankle while she flapped around his head usingthe immensely large, feathery wings that had sproutedright out the back of her romper suit. 

"Fourth floor," said the witch in a bored voice, withoutasking, and the man disappeared through the double doorsbeside the desk, holding his daughter like an oddly shapedballoon. "Next!"

Mrs. Weasley moved forward to the desk.

"Hello," she said. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, wassupposed to be moved to a different ward this morning,could you tell us — ?"

"Arthur Weasley?" said the witch, running her fingerdown a long list in front of her. "Yes, first floor, second dooron the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you," said Mrs. Weasley. "Come on, you lot." 

They followed through the double doors and along thenarrow corridor beyond, which was lined with moreportraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full ofcandles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giantsoapsuds. More witches and wizards in lime-green robeswalked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smellingyellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed onedoor, and every now and then they heard distant wailing.They climbed a flight of stairs and entered the "CreatureInduced Injuries" corridor, where the second door on theright bore the words "DANGEROUS" DAI LLEWELLYNWARD: SERIOUS BITES. Underneath this was a card in abrass holder on which had been handwritten Healer-inCharge: Hippocrates Smethwyck, Trainee Healer: AugustusPye.

"We'll wait outside, Molly," Tonks said. "Arthur won't wanttoo many visitors at once. ... It ought to be just the familyfirst."

Mad-Eye growled his approval of this idea and set himselfwith his back against the corridor wall, his magical eyespinning in all directions. Harry drew back too, but Mrs.Weasley reached out a hand and pushed him through thedoor, saying, "Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thankyou. ..."

The ward was small and rather dingy as the only windowwas narrow and set high in the wall facing the door. Most ofthe light came from more shining crystal bubbles clusteredin the middle of the ceiling. The walls were of panelled oakand there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizardon the wall, captioned URQUHART RACKHARROW, 1612–1697, INVENTOR OF THE ENTRAIL-EXPELLING CURSE. 

There were only three patients. Mr. Weasley wasoccupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tinywindow. Harry was pleased and relieved to see that he waspropped up on several pillows and reading the DailyProphet by the solitary ray of sunlight falling onto his bed.He looked around as they walked toward him and, seeingwhom it was, beamed.

"Hello!" he called, throwing the Prophet aside. "Bill justleft, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop inon you later. ..."

"How are you, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley, bendingdown to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face."You're still looking a bit peaky. ..."

"I feel absolutely fine," said Mr. Weasley brightly, holdingout his good arm to give Ginny a hug. "If they could onlytake the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," saidMr. Weasley cheerfully, reaching across for his wand, whichlay on his bedside cabinet, and waving it so that six extrachairs appeared at his bedside to seat them all. "It seemsthere was some rather unusual kind of poison in thatsnake's fangs that keeps wounds open. ... They're surethey'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had muchworse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have tokeep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. Butthat fellow over there," he said, dropping his voice andnodding toward the bed opposite in which a man lay lookinggreen and sickly and staring at the ceiling. "Bitten by awerewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

"A werewolf?" whispered Mrs. Weasley, looking alarmed."Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a privateroom?"

"It's two weeks till full moon," Mr. Weasley reminded herquietly. "They've been talking to him this morning, theHealers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able tolead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mentionnames, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally,very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy tomanage. ..."

"What did he say?" asked George. 

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," saidMr. Weasley sadly. "And that woman over there," heindicated the only other occupied bed, which was rightbeside the door, "won't tell the Healers what bit her, whichmakes us all think it must have been something she washandling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out ofher leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings."

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" askedFred, pulling his chair closer to the bed.

"Well, you already know, don't you?" said Mr. Weasley,with a significant smile at Harry. "It's very simple — I'd hada very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" asked Fred,indicating the newspaper Mr. Weasley had cast aside. 

"No, of course not," said Mr. Weasley, with a slightly bittersmile, "the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirtygreat serpent got —"

"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley warningly.

"— got — er — me," Mr. Weasley said hastily, thoughHarry was quite sure that was not what he had meant tosay."So where were you when it happened, Dad?" askedGeorge.

"That's my business," said Mr. Weasley, though with asmall smile. He snatched up the Daily Prophet, shook itopen again and said, "I was just reading about WillyWiddershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willyturned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets lastsummer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded,and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckagecovered from head to foot in —"

"When you say you were 'on duty,' " Fred interrupted in alow voice, "what were you doing?"

"You heard your father," whispered Mrs. Weasley, "we arenot discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins,Arthur —"

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on thetoilet charge," said Mr. Weasley grimly. "I can only supposegold changed hands —"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George quietly."The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!" snapped Mrs. Weasley. 

"Anyway," said Mr. Weasley in a raised voice, "this timeWilly's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles,and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of itbecause according to this article, two Muggles have lostfingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency boneregrowth and memory modification. Just think of it,Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

And he looked eagerly around as though hoping to see asignpost.

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?"asked Fred, looking at his father for a reaction. "A massiveone? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"That's enough," said Mrs. Weasley crossly. "Mad-Eye andTonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you.And you lot can wait outside," she added to her childrenand Harry. "You can come and say good-bye afterward. Goon. ..."

They trooped back into the corridor. Mad-Eye and Tonkswent in and closed the door of the ward behind them. Fredraised his eyebrows.

"Fine," he said coolly, rummaging in his pockets, "be likethat. Don't tell us anything."

"Looking for these?" said George, holding out whatlooked like a tangle of flesh-colored string.

"You read my mind," said Fred, grinning. "Let's see if St.Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors,shall we?" 

He and George disentangled the string and separated fiveExtendable Ears from each other. Fred and George handedthem around. Harry hesitated to take one.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's gotthe right to eavesdrop on him it's you. ..."

Grinning in spite of himself, Harry took the end of thestring and inserted it into his ear as the twins had done.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered.

The flesh-colored strings wriggled like long skinny worms,then snaked under the door. For a few seconds Harry couldhear nothing, then he heard Tonks whispering as clearly asthough she were standing right beside him.

"... they searched the whole area but they couldn't findthe snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after itattacked you, Arthur. ... But You-Know-Who can't haveexpected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," growled Moody, " 'causehe's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's tryingto get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthurhadn't been there the beast would've had much more timeto look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded rather uneasy. "Youknow, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting forHarry to see something like this. ..."

"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny aboutthe Potter kid, we all know that.""Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoketo him this morning," whispered Mrs. Weasley.

" 'Course he's worried," growled Moody. "The boy'sseeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. ...Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but ifYou-Know-Who's possessing him —"

Harry pulled the Extendable Ear out of his own, his hearthammering very fast and heat rushing up his face. Helooked around at the others. They were all staring at him,the strings still trailing from their ears, looking suddenlyfearful.