The curtains of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory shook violently in the raging rainstorm. Harry bolted upright from his four-poster bed, the searing pain of his scar causing him to knock over the hand mirror on his bedside table. The images flashing across the glass fragments left him breathless—Sirius was chained to a rack in a Ministry of Magic dungeon, and the withered hands of a Dementor were tearing open the flesh on his godfather's chest.
Trembling, he pulled out his two-way mirror, but the surface remained covered in a layer of grey mist. The image of Sirius with chains piercing his shoulder blades still burned upon Harry's retinas, and the distinct, gnawing hiss of Dark Magic shackles tearing into flesh echoed relentlessly in his mind. He grabbed his coat and bolted toward the headmaster's office, only to run into Hermione in the common room.
"But Dumbledore took Fawkes and left for Norway early this morning!" She unrolled a piece of parchment where Professor Lupin's hasty handwriting was stained with blood. "Number 13, Knockturn Alley... the attic of Borgin and Burkes... Professor Lupin gave this to me earlier, saying I could contact him at any time if I ever ran into trouble. Perhaps we should consult Professor Lupin before taking any blind actions."
Chapter 240