Chapter 27: The Lightning-Struck Tower



Once back under the starry sky, Harry heaved Dumbledore on to the top

of the nearest boulder and then to his feet. Sodden and shivering,

Dumbledore's weight still upon him, Harry con- centrated harder than he had

ever done upon his destination: Hogsmeade. Closing his eyes, gripping

Dumbledore's arm as tightly as he could, he stepped forwards into that

feeling of horrible compression.



He knew it had worked before he opened his eyes: the smell of salt, the

sea breeze had gone. He and Dumbledore were shivering and dripping in the

middle of the dark High Street in Hogsmeade. For one horrible moment

Harry's imagination showed him more Inferi creeping towards him around

the sides of shops, but he blinked and saw that noth-ing was stirring; all was

still, the darkness complete but for a few streetlamps and lit upper windows.


'We did it, Professor!' Harry whispered with difficulty; he suddenly

realised that he had a searing stitch in his chest. 'We did it! We got the

Horcrux!'


Dumbledore staggered against him. For a moment, Harry thought that his

inexpert Apparition had thrown Dumbledore off-balance; then he saw his

face, paler and damper than ever in the distant light of a streetlamp.


'Sir, are you all right?'

'I've been better,' said Dumbledore weakly, though the corners of his

mouth twitched. That potion ... was no health drink ..."


And to Harry's horror, Dumbledore sank on to the ground.


'Sir - it's OK, sir, you're going to be all right, don't worry -'


He looked around desperately for help, but there was nobody to be seen

and all he could think was that he must somehow get Dumbledore quickly to

the hospital wing.


'We need to get you up to the school, sir ... 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 - sir, 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 Harry could make a move, however, he heard run- ning footsteps.

His heart leapt: somebody had seen, somebody knew they needed help - and

looking around he saw Madam Rosmerta scurrying down the dark street

towards 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 realise - 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

Harry at the sound of the words ... he turned and looked.


There it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blaz- ing green

skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters left behind whenever they

had entered a building ... wherever they had murdered ...

'When did it appear?' asked Dumbledore, and his hand clenched painfully

upon Harry'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 couple behind the bar,' she said, looking very frightened. 'Shall

I run and fetch -?'


'No, Harry can do it.'


Harry raised his wand at once.


'Accio Rosmerta's brooms.'


A second later they heard a loud bang as the front door of the pub burst

open; two brooms had shot out into the street and were racing each other to

Harry'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 realised anything is wrong ... Harry, put on your Invisibility Cloak.'

Harry pulled his Cloak out of his pocket and threw it over himself before

mounting his broom; Madam Rosmerta was already tottering back towards

her pub as Harry and Dumble-dore kicked off from the ground and rose up

into the air. As they sped towards the castle, Harry glanced sideways at

Dumbledore, ready to grab him should he fall, but the sight of the Dark

Mark seemed to have acted upon Dumbledore like a stimulant: he was bent

low over his broom, his eyes fixed upon the Mark, his long silver hair and

beard flying behind him in the night air. And Harry, too, looked ahead at the

skull, and fear swelled inside him like a venomous bubble, compressing his

lungs, driving all other discomfort from his mind ...


How long had they been away? Had Ron, Hermione and 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, or some other member of the DA? And if

it was ... he was the one who had told them to patrol the corridors, he had

asked them to leave the safety of their beds ... would he be responsible,

again, for the death of a friend?


As they flew over the dark, twisting lane down which they had walked

earlier, Harry heard, over the whistling of the night air in his ears,

Dumbledore muttering in some strange language again. He thought he

understood why as he felt his broom shudder for a moment when they flew

over the bound-ary wall into the grounds: Dumbledore was undoing the

enchantments he himself had set around the castle, so that 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; Harry landed next to him seconds later and looked around.


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 Harry saw Dumble-dore clutching at

his chest with his blackened hand.


'Go and wake Severus,' said Dumbledore faintly but clearly. Tell him

what has happened and bring him to me. Do noth- ing else, speak to nobody

else and do not remove your Cloak. I shall wait here.'


'But -'


'You swore to obey me, Harry - go!'


Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral stair-case, but his hand

had only just closed upon the iron ring of the door when he heard running

footsteps on the other side. He looked round at Dumbledore, who gestured to

him to retreat. Harry backed away, drawing his wand as he did so.

The door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted:

'Expelliarmus!'


Harry's body became instantly rigid and immobile, and he felt himself fall

back against the Tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to

move or speak. He could not understand how it had happened - Expelliarmus

was not a Freezing Charm -


Then, by the light of the Mark, he saw Dumbledore's wand flying in an

arc over the edge of the ramparts and under-stood ... Dumbledore had

wordlessly immobilised 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.'


Malfoy stepped forwards, glancing around quickly to check that he and

Dumbledore were alone. His eyes fell upon the second broom.


'Who else is here?'


'A question 1 might ask you. Or are you acting alone?'


Harry saw Malfoy's pale eyes shift back to Dumbledore in the greenish

glare of the Mark.

'No,' he said. 'I've got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school

tonight.'


'Well, well,' said Dumbledore, as though Malfoy was show- ing him an

ambitious homework project. 'Very good indeed. You found a way to let

them in, did you?'


'Yeah,' said Malfoy, who was panting. 'Right under your nose and you

never realised!'


'Ingenious,' said Dumbledore. 'Yet ... forgive me ... where are they now?

You seem unsupported.'


They met some of your guard. 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. Harry stood imprisoned within his own invisible,

paralysed body, staring at the two of them, his 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 Malfoy at once.


He seemed to realise how childish the words had sounded; Harry saw him

flush in the Mark's greenish light.


'You don't know what I'm capable of,' said Malfoy 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 Malfoy vehemently. 'I've been work- ing on it all

year, and tonight -'


Somewhere in the depths of the castle below Harry heard a muffled yell.

Malfoy stiffened and glanced over his shoulder.


'Somebody is putting up a good fight,' said Dumbledore conversationally.

'But you were saying ... yes, you have man-aged to introduce Death Eaters

into my school which, I admit, I thought impossible ... how did you do it?'


But Malfoy said nothing: he was still listening to whatever was happening

below and seemed almost as paralysed as Harry was.

'Perhaps you ought to get on with the job alone,' suggested Dumbledore.

'What if your back-up has been thwarted by my guard? As you have perhaps

realised, 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.'


Malfoy merely stared at him.


'I see,' said Dumbledore kindly, when Malfoy neither

moved nor spoke. 'You are afraid to act until they join

you.'»


'I'm not afraid!' snarled Malfoy, though he still made no move to hurt

Dumbledore. 'It's you who should be scared!'


'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.'


Malfoy 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, '1 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?'


'The other's in Borgin and Burkes,' said Malfoy, '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 travelling 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 realised what it meant - even Borgin

didn't know - 1 was the one who realised 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 Malfoy 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 meas-ures 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 realise who was behind that stuff, did you?'

sneered Malfoy, as Dumbledore slid a little down the ramparts, the strength

in his legs apparently fading, and Harry struggled fruitlessly, mutely, against

the enchantment binding him.


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


'Why didn't you stop me, then?' Malfoy 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 Malfoy. '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 favourite any more, 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?' Malfoy taunted.


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

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 Malfoy, as though he was compelled to keep

talking, though his wand hand was shaking badly. 'I had one and she had the

other and 1 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 Harry saw him slip an inch lower

down the wall as he said it.


'Yeah, I got the idea from them,' said Malfoy, 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 recognising potions ...'


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?' Malfoy taunted.

There was another yell from below, rather louder than the last. Malfoy

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 Malfoy, as though he was compelled to keep

talking, though his wand hand was shaking badly. 'I had one and she had the

other and 1 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 Harry saw him slip an inch lower

down the wall as he said it.


'Yeah, I got the idea from them,' said Malfoy, 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 recognising potions ...'


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


Malfoy gave a harsh laugh.

'You care about me saying "Mudblood" when I'm about to kill you?'


'Yes, I do,' said Dumbledore, and Harry 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 defenceless than you can have dreamed of finding me, and still you

have not acted ...'


Malfoy'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 ...'


'That's right,' said Malfoy. 'But she said you were just going for a drink,

you'd be back ...'


'Well, I certainly did have a drink ... and I came back ... after a fashion,'

mumbled Dumbledore. 'So you decided to spring a trap for me?'


'We decided to put the Dark Mark over the Tower and get you to hurry up

here, to see who'd been killed,' said Malfoy. 'And it worked!'

'Well ... yes and no ...' said Dumbledore. 'But am I to take it, then, that

nobody has been murdered?'


'Someone's dead,' said Malfoy and his voice seemed to go up an octave as

he said it. 'One of your people ... I don't know who, it was dark ... I stepped

over the body ... I was* supposed to be waiting up here when you got back,

only your Phoenix lot got in the way ...'


'Yes, they do that,' said Dumbledore.


There was a bang and shouts from below, louder than ever; it sounded as

though people were fighting on the actual spiral staircase that led to where

Dumbledore, Malfoy and Harry stood, and Harry's heart thundered unheard

in his invisible chest ... someone was dead ... Malfoy had stepped over the

body ... but who was it?


There is little time, one way or another,' said Dumbledore. 'So let us

discuss your options, Draco.'


'My options!' said Malfoy loudly. 'I'm standing here with a wand - I'm

about to kill you -'


'My dear boy, let us have no more pretence about that. If you were going

to kill me, you would have done it when you first Disarmed me, you would

not have stopped for this pleasant chat about ways and means.'

'I haven't got any options!' said Malfoy, and he was sud- denly as white as

Dumbledore. 'I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!'


'I appreciate the difficulty of your position,' said Dumbledore. 'Why else

do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I knew that

you would have been murdered if Lord Voldemort realised that I suspected

you.'


Malfoy winced at the sound of the name.


'I did not dare speak to you of the mission with which I knew you had

been entrusted, in case he used Legilimency against you,' continued

Dumbledore. 'But now at last we can speak plainly to each other ... no harm

has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your

unintentional victims survived ... I can help you, Draco.'


'No, you can't,' said Malfoy, his wand hand shaking very badly indeed.

'Nobody can. He told me to do it or he'll kill me. I've got no choice.'


'Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely

than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the

Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the

moment in Azkaban ... when the time comes we can protect him too ... come

over to the right side, Draco ... you are not a killer ...'


Malfoy stared at Dumbledore.

'But I got this far, didn't I?' he said slowly. They thought I'd die in the

attempt, but I'm here ... and you're in my power ... I'm the one with the wand

... you're at my mercy ...'


'No, Draco,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'It is my mercy, and not yours, that

matters now.'


Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling.

Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction -


But suddenly footsteps were thundering up the stairs and a second later

Malfoy was buffeted out of the way as four people in black robes burst

through the door on to the ram-parts. Still paralysed, his eyes staring

unblinkingly, Harry gazed in terror upon four strangers: it seemed the Death

Eaters had won the fight below.


A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle.


'Dumbledore cornered!' he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman

who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly.

'Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!'


'Good evening, Amycus,' said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming

the man to a tea party. 'And you've brought Alecto too ... charming ...'


The woman gave an angry little titter.

Think your little jokes'll help you on your death bed, then?' she jeered.


'Jokes? No, no, these are manners,' replied Dumbledore.


'Do it,' said the stranger standing nearest to Harry, a big, rangy man with

matted grey hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater's robes looked

uncomfortably tight. He had a voice like none that Harry had ever heard: a

rasping bark of a voice. Harry could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat

and, unmistakeably, of blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long

yellowish nails.


'Is that you, Fenrir?' asked Dumbledore.


That's right,' rasped the other. 'Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?'


'No, I cannot say that I am ...'


Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his

chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely.


'But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.'


'Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now?

This is most unusual ... you have developed a taste for human flesh that

cannot be satisfied once a month?'

That's right,' said Greyback. 'Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore?

Frightens you?'


'Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little,' said Dumbledore.

'And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people,

into the school where his friends live...'


'I didn't,' breathed Malfoy. He was not looking at Greyback; he did not

seem to want to even glance at him. 'I didn't know he was going to come -'


'I wouldn't want to miss a trip to Hogwarts, Dumbledore,' rasped

Greyback. 'Not when there are throats to be ripped out ... delicious, delicious

...'


And he raised a yellow fingernail and picked at his front teeth, leering at

Dumbledore.


'1 could do you for afters, Dumbledore ...'


'No,' said the fourth Death Eater sharply. He had a heavy, brutal-looking

face. 'We've got orders. Draco's got to do it. Now, Draco, and quickly.'


Malfoy was showing less resolution than ever. He looked terrified as he

stared into Dumbledore's face, which was even paler, and rather lower than

usual, as he had slid so far down the rampart wall.

'He's not long for this world anyway, if you ask me!' said the lopsided

man, to the accompaniment of his sister's wheezing giggles. 'Look at him -

what's happened to you, then, Dumby?'


'Oh, weaker resistance, slower reflexes, Amycus,' said Dumbledore. 'Old

age, in short ... one day, perhaps, it will happen to you ... if you are lucky ...'


'What's that mean, then, what's that mean?' yelled the Death Eater,

suddenly violent. 'Always the same, weren't yeh, Dumby, talking and doing

nothing, nothing, I don't even know why the Dark Lord's bothering to kill

yeh! Come on, Draco, do it!'


But at that moment, there were renewed sounds of scuffling from below

and a voice shouted, 'They've blocked the stairs - Reducto! REDUCTO!'


Harry's heart leapt: so these four had not eliminated all opposition, but

merely broken through the fight to the top of the Tower, and, by the sound of

it, created a barrier behind them -


'Now, Draco, quickly!' said the brutal-faced man angrily.


But Malfoy's hand was shaking so badly that he could barely aim.


Til do it,' snarled Greyback, moving towards Dumbledore with his hands

outstretched, his teeth bared.

'I said no!' shouted the brutal-faced man; there was a flash of light and the

werewolf was blasted out of the way; he hit the ramparts and staggered,

looking furious. Harry's heart was hammering so hard it seemed impossible

that nobody could hear him standing there, imprisoned by Dumbledore's

spell -if he could only move, he could aim a curse from under the Cloak -


'Draco, do it, or stand aside so one of us -' screeched the woman, but at

that precise moment the door to the ramparts burst open once more and there

stood Snape, his wand clutched in his hand as his black eyes swept the

scene, from Dumbledore slumped against the wall, to the four Death Eaters,

including the enraged werewolf, and Malfoy.


'We've got a problem, Snape,' said the lumpy Amycus, whose eyes and

wand were fixed alike upon Dumbledore, 'the boy doesn't seem able -'


But somebody else had spoken Snape's name, quite softly.


'Severus ...'


The sound frightened Harry beyond anything he had experienced all

evening. For the first time, Dumbledore was pleading.


Snape said nothing, but walked forwards and pushed Malfoy roughly out

of the way. The three Death Eaters fell back without a word. Even the

werewolf seemed cowed.

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and

hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.


'Severus ... please ..."


Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.


'Avada Kedavra!'


A jet of green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit

Dumbledore squarely in the chest. Harry's scream of horror never left him;

silent and unmoving, he was forced to watch as Dumbledore was blasted

into the air: for a split second he seemed to hang suspended beneath the

shining skull, and then he fell slowly backwards, like a great rag doll, over

the battlements and out of sight.