Professor Trelawney's body suddenly jerked backward, and she crumpled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Harry hastily dropped his broom to catch her, but he was only eleven, and Trelawney was almost twice his height.
Trelawney's shoulders slammed into his arms, forcing him back two steps before he barely managed to steady himself.
"Professor? Professor!"
Harry shook Trelawney's shoulders, but her eyes remained tightly closed, and she showed no sign of waking.
Harry glanced back in panic. The spiral staircase was empty. There wasn't even a portrait, let alone a professor.
What should I do?
There isn't anyone around?
Harry had already been distraught after hearing that prophecy. Now he was completely at a loss.
The Hospital Wing. Right, Madam Pomfrey.
I have to find her first!
Harry struggled to drape one of Trelawney's arms over his shoulder. "Professor, I'll take you to the Hospital Wing."
He dragged Trelawney up off the floor with all his might, but her whole body was like a sack of loose flour, limp and unable to support itself.
Harry took three steps before nearly tripping over the hem of her cloak.
He had to stop and adjust his hold before he could just about manage another step.
The staircase began to turn slowly beneath his feet, as though deliberately making things harder for him. Harry gritted his teeth and followed the steps around, bracing his shoulder against the wall to keep Trelawney from slipping down.
By the time he emerged from the spiral staircase, his back was soaked with sweat.
The corridor was silent. Evening at Hogwarts was giving way to night, and the setting sun cast long stretches of golden-red light and shadow along the corridor. The empty suits of armor cast silent shadows beside the walls.
Harry dragged the unconscious Trelawney onward, stopping every dozen steps or so to catch his breath.
"Madam Pomfrey... Madam Pomfrey..." Harry murmured as he walked, as though encouraging himself. "Just ahead... just around the stairs..."
He rounded a corner and almost ran straight into the Fat Lady standing in her frame.
"Oh my!" The Fat Lady raised her wineglass and waved it at him. "Young man, what are you carrying? A sack of potatoes?"
"It's Professor Trelawney," Harry panted. "She fainted! I have to take her to the Hospital Wing!"
"That's dreadful." The Fat Lady leaned toward the edge of her frame and looked closely. "She's so pale. Go on, hurry. Don't waste time here."
Harry dragged Trelawney up a flight of stairs and turned into another corridor.
He remembered how Madam Pomfrey had kept Longbottom in the Hospital Wing for two nights after he fell off his broom.
The Hospital Wing was on the east side of the castle. Getting there from here meant crossing at least three large halls.
"Another... another two floors..." Harry gritted his teeth and urged himself on, hoisting Trelawney's arm a little higher.
The tassels on her clothes kept flicking across his face, making him blink from the tickling.
By the time he finally spotted the familiar wooden door with its silver plaque, the moon had already risen.
The Hospital Wing door was ajar, warm yellow light spilling out from within.
Harry didn't even have the strength to knock. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and half hauled, half dragged Trelawney inside.
"Madam Pomfrey!"
Madam Pomfrey poked her head out of the inner room, still holding a mortar.
When she saw Harry and Trelawney slumped against him, the mortar almost slipped from her hand.
"Merlin's beard-what happened?"
She hurried over, deftly took Trelawney's weight, and helped Harry get her onto the nearest bed.
Madam Pomfrey's movements were practiced. She undid the ties at the neck of Trelawney's cloak while lifting her eyelids with her fingers to examine them.
"Mental exhaustion," she concluded quickly, her tone certain. "She must have forced her prophetic ability."
There was a trace of resignation in Madam Pomfrey's voice, but her hands moved without delay.
She took a bottle of dark green potion from the bedside cabinet, pried Trelawney's mouth open, and carefully poured half a spoonful into it.
"She'll wake up." Madam Pomfrey put the bottle back in the cabinet. "She just needs more rest. Young man, you did very well. Now you can-why are you still standing here?"
Harry was standing beside the bed. Only when he heard Madam Pomfrey say Trelawney was all right did the weight finally lift from his heart.
"Madam Pomfrey, I need to find Professor McGonagall," Harry said immediately. "It's urgent."
Madam Pomfrey nodded. "Professor McGonagall should still be in her office at this hour."
"Thank you!"
Harry turned and all but charged out of the Hospital Wing.
The candleholders in the corridor had already lit themselves. Flames danced in their metal brackets, casting wavering shadows across the stone walls.
Harry ran east along the corridor. As he passed through an archway, he almost collided with Peeves, who had come around the corner.
"Oho!" Peeves laughed shrilly and shot upward. "Potter boy! What's the hurry? Been naughty and someone's chasing you?"
"Move!" Harry had no time to waste on him and darted around him.
Peeves threw a piece of chalk after him, hitting Harry in the back.
But Harry couldn't spare a glance behind him. He kept going through a second hall, climbed a narrow spiral staircase, and raced down another moonlit passage.
Professor McGonagall's office was in the second-floor corridor. Harry stopped in front of it, panting, and reached out to knock on the oak door.
"Professor McGonagall!"
Unfortunately, there was no answer.
He knocked hard again. "Professor McGonagall! It's Harry Potter! I have something very important to report!"
A portrait on the wall beside him opened one eye slightly and said in a leisurely voice, "Professor McGonagall isn't in there, young man."
"She's gone to the Headmaster's Office tonight. All the professors were called to a meeting."
Harry turned before he could thank the portrait. The Headmaster's Office was at the top of the tower. He had to hurry.
His footsteps echoed loudly through the empty corridor. The draft he stirred up set the candle flames swaying, and even woke several sleeping portraits on the walls, who cast him displeased looks.
But he couldn't worry about all that. He had to find Dumbledore quickly.
"Potter-Potter!"
A voice came from his right, filled with barely restrained excitement.
Harry stopped abruptly.
Filch was emerging from a side passage, his back hunched, an oil lamp in his hand and an "I've finally caught you" expression on his face.
"Well, look who I've found! A student wandering the castle at night!"
Harry's heart sank, but he had little time for dismay. "Mr. Filch, I have to find Headmaster Dumbledore, now! It's an emergency!"
Filch scoffed and took two steps closer, the lamplight falling across Harry's face.
"An emergency?" he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Every student I catch says that."
"'Mr. Filch, it's urgent,' 'Mr. Filch, I'm going to be late,' 'Mr. Filch, an owl flew into my room'-"
"I'm telling the truth!" Harry's voice rose with urgency. "Hogwarts is going to be invaded tomorrow! Professor Trelawney just made a prophecy-the Death Eaters will-they're going to attack from within-"
"Death Eaters?"
"Mr. Potter, your lies are getting more and more outrageous." Filch raised the oil lamp a little higher and scrutinized Harry through narrowed eyes.
"Do you think I'd believe that rubbish?"
"It's not rubbish!" Harry grew frantic. "Professor Trelawney said it herself. Before she fainted, she kept saying-"
"Trelawney?" Filch gave a short, cold laugh. "That madwoman who's always spouting prophecies?"
"Last year she said I'd be swallowed by a giant toad, and here I am, still standing perfectly well."
Filch hung the oil lamp to one side and reached for Harry's shoulder.
"Whether you've got something to do or not, running around after curfew is against school rules."
Harry dodged sideways, and Filch's hand closed on empty air.
"I have to go!" Harry backed away two steps, his voice unmistakably anxious. "If the professors all leave tomorrow, it'll be too late! They're counting on Headmaster Dumbledore being away from the castle!"
Filch's face darkened. "Say that rubbish again, and I'll give you another week's detention."
"I'm telling the truth!"
"Enough!"
Filch had clearly run out of patience. He took a long stride forward and reached for Harry.
Harry twisted sharply sideways and ducked under Filch's arm as though dodging a Bludger on the Quidditch Pitch, then took off down the corridor.
But he was only a child. Filch's hand clamped straight onto his arm with such force that Harry couldn't break free.
"Silver-tongued little brat. I've been caretaker here for twenty years. What excuse haven't I heard?"
"If it's really so urgent, why didn't you go to your Head of House first, instead of waiting until this hour to run around outside?"
Harry stumbled as Filch yanked him, his shoulder striking the cold stone wall.
"I just went to Professor McGonagall's office, and she wasn't there!" Harry shouted. "She's gone to the Headmaster's Office! That's why I have to go to the Headmaster's Office!"
"Then you should go back all the more," Filch sneered. "When the professors have time tomorrow, you can go and tell them your little 'Death Eater invasion' story at your leisure. You'll even have time to make it sound more convincing."
He was far stronger than Harry had imagined. His grip made Harry's arm ache, and Harry couldn't help being dragged along.
"Mr. Filch, if I'm lying, I'll accept any punishment!"
"You deserve punishment anyway," Filch said without looking back.
"But if you miss the chance to stop this because you wouldn't let me see a professor-"
Filch stopped abruptly and turned, bringing his wrinkled face close to Harry's.
"Potter." His voice was very low. "Do you know something very important?"
"What?"
"You're a student," Filch said, stressing every word. "Your job is to follow the rules, not charge around the castle making up alarming lies to frighten people."
"But Professor Trelawney-"
"That woman can't even predict whether it'll rain next week." Filch gave a derisive laugh.
He continued dragging Harry forward, his footsteps quick and heavy.
As Harry was dragged along, his knee struck a step, and he sucked in a breath of pain.
"Mr. Filch-" Harry tried again, his voice pleading.
"One more word, and I'll lock you in the dungeons with those old textbooks all night," Filch said coldly.
"No..." Harry was dragged away by Filch in despair.