Sweat soaked through his robes, and wet strands of hair clung to his cheeks. When the late-night wind blew, its biting chill rapidly cleared Harry's mind.
Quite a few people had already gathered around him.
Besides Ginny, who was holding him, Hermione and Luna were also nearby.
From the way Hermione looked at him, Harry knew she had already guessed something. Even Luna, who usually seemed dreamy and eccentric, had widened her bright silver eyes and was staring fixedly at him.
Beyond them, Loya and her people, along with several goblins, stood a few steps away, watching him with uncertainty and alarm.
Most surprising of all, Ron was here too.
Harry clearly remembered telling Ron to take Filch to the Hospital Wing, then stay there and wait for him and Hermione.
Ron glanced at Harry's deathly pale face, then at Ginny, who was holding Harry tightly. His lips moved, but he said nothing.
"Harry."
Hermione covered her mouth and sniffled softly twice.
"How long has it been?"
Harry asked, his voice as grating as two rusty steel saws scraping together.
"Less than ten minutes. You suddenly collapsed, and you looked like you were in terrible pain. You kept struggling on the ground and shouting Sirius's name—"
Hermione said, her brown eyes filled with worry.
"What exactly—"
"Why did you come down, Ron? Did Neville find Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore?"
Harry did not answer for the moment. He asked through ragged breaths.
"Neville found Professor McGonagall, but she said... said Dumbledore had left Hogwarts. It sounded like something had happened in Paris—"
Harry's heart sank to the bottom.
What a coincidence. Both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Breen were away from Hogwarts. Who was he supposed to turn to?
Oh. This was absolutely no coincidence. It was a conspiracy that had