Lupin dragged Harry away from the dais. Harry, still staring at the archway, was angry at Sirius now for keeping him waiting—
But some part of him realised, even as he fought to break free from Lupin, that Sirius had never kept him waiting before… Sirius had risked everything, always, to see Harry, to help him… if Sirius was not reappearing out of that archway when Harry was yelling for him as though his life depended on it, the only possible explanation was that he could not come back… that he really was—
Dumbledore had most of the remaining Death Eaters grouped in the middle of the room, seemingly immobilised by invisible ropes; Mad-Eye Moody had crawled across the room to where Tonks lay, and was attempting to revive her; behind the dais there were still hashes of light, grunts and cries—Kingsley had run forward to continue Sirius’s duel with Bellatrix.
“Harry?”
Neville had slid down the stone benches one by one to the place where Harry stood. Harry was no longer struggling against Lupin, who maintained a precautionary grip on his arm nevertheless.
“Harry… I’b really sorry…” said Neville. His legs were still dancing uncontrollably. “Was dad man—was Sirius Black a—a friend of yours?”
Harry nodded.
“Here,” said Lupin quietly, and pointing his wand at Neville’s legs he said, “Finite.” The spell was lifted: Neville’s legs fell back to the floor and remained still. Lupin’s face was pale. “Let’s—let’s find the others. Where are they all, Neville?”
Lupin turned away from the archway as he spoke. It sounded as though every word was causing him pain.
“Dey’re all back dere,” said Neville. “A brain addacked Ron bud I dink he’s all righd—and Herbione’s unconscious, bud we could feel a bulse—”
There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Harry saw Kingsley hit the ground yelling in pain: Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell at her but she deflected it; she was halfway up the steps now—
“Harry—no!” cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin’s slackened grip.
And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches; people were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix’s robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming…
She aimed a curse over her shoulder. The tank rose into the air and tipped. Harry was deluged in the foul-smelling potion within: the brains slipped and slid over him and began spinning their long coloured tentacles, but he shouted, “Wingardium Leviosa!” and they flew off him up into the air. Slipping and sliding, he ran on towards the door; he leapt over Luna, who was groaning on the floor, past Ginny, who said, “Harry—what—?”, past Ron, who giggled feebly, and Hermione, who was still unconscious. He wrenched open the door into the circular black hall and saw Bellatrix disappearing through a door on the other side of the room; beyond her was the corridor leading back to the lifts.