Untitled Part 14
Harry was the first to awake in his dormitory nextmorning. He lay for a moment watching dust swirl in thechink of sunlight falling through the gap in his four-poster'shangings and savored the thought that it was Saturday. Thefirst week of term seemed to have dragged on forever, likeone gigantic History of Magic lesson.
Judging by the sleepy silence and the freshly minted lookof that beam of sunlight, it was just after daybreak. Hepulled open the curtains around his bed, got up, andstarted to dress. The only sound apart from the distanttwittering of birds was the slow, deep breathing of his fellowGryffindors. He opened his schoolbag carefully, pulled outparchment and quill, and headed out of the dormitory forthe common room.
Making straight for his favorite squashy old armchairbeside the now extinct fire, Harry settled himself downcomfortably and unrolled his parchment while lookingaround the room. The detritus of crumpled-up bits ofparchment, old Gobstones, empty ingredient jars, andcandy wrappers that usually covered the common room atthe end of each day was gone, as were all Hermione's elfhats. Wondering vaguely how many elves had now been setfree whether they wanted to be or not, Harry uncorked hisink bottle, dipped his quill into it, and then held itsuspended an inch above the smooth yellowish surface ofhis parchment, thinking hard. ... But after a minute or so hefound himself staring into the empty grate, at a completeloss for what to say.
He could now appreciate how hard it had been for Ronand Hermione to write him letters over the summer. Howwas he supposed to tell Sirius everything that hadhappened over the past week and pose all the questions hewas burning to ask without giving potential letter-thieves alot of information he did not want them to have?
He sat quite motionless for a while, gazing into thefireplace, then, finally coming to a decision, he dipped hisquill into the ink bottle once more and set it resolutely uponthe parchment.
Dear Snuffles,
Hope you're okay, the first week back here's beenterrible, I'm really glad it's the weekend.
We've got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mum. I'mwriting because that thing I wrote to you about lastsummer happened again last night when I was doing adetention with Umbridge.
We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll beback soon.
Please write back quickly.
Best,
Harry
Harry reread this letter several times, trying to see itfrom the point of view of an outsider. He could not see howthey would know what he was talking about — or who hewas talking to — just from reading this letter. He did hopeSirius would pick up the hint about Hagrid and tell themwhen he might be back: Harry did not want to ask directlyin case it drew too much attention to what Hagrid might beup to while he was not at Hogwarts.
Considering it was a very short letter it had taken a longtime to write; sunlight had crept halfway across the roomwhile he had been working on it, and he could now heardistant sounds of movement from the dormitories above.Sealing the parchment carefully he climbed through theportrait hole and headed off for the Owlery.
"I would not go that way if I were you," said NearlyHeadless Nick, drifting disconcertingly through a wall justahead of him as he walked down the passage. "Peeves isplanning an amusing joke on the next person to pass thebust of Paracelsus halfway down the corridor."
"Does it involve Paracelsus falling on top of the person'shead?" asked Harry.
"Funnily enough, it does," said Nearly Headless Nick in abored voice. "Subtlety has never been Peeves's strongpoint. I'm off to try and find the Bloody Baron. ... He mightbe able to put a stop to it. ... See you, Harry. ..."
"Yeah, 'bye," said Harry and instead of turning right, heturned left, taking a longer but safer route up to the Owlery.His spirits rose as he walked past window after windowshowing brilliantly blue sky; he had training later, he wouldbe back on the Quidditch pitch at last —
Something brushed his ankles. He looked down and sawthe caretaker's skeletal gray cat, Mrs. Norris, slinking pasthim. She turned lamplike yellow eyes upon him for amoment before disappearing behind a statue of Wilfred theWistful.
"I'm not doing anything wrong," Harry called after her.She had the unmistakable air of a cat that was off to reportto her boss, yet Harry could not see why; he was perfectlyentitled to walk up to the Owlery on a Saturday morning.
The sun was high in the sky now and when Harry enteredthe Owlery the glassless windows dazzled his eyes; thicksilvery beams of sunlight crisscrossed the circular room inwhich hundreds of owls nestled on rafters, a little restless inthe early morning light, some clearly just returned fromhunting. The straw-covered floor crunched a little as hestepped across tiny animal bones, craning his neck for asight of Hedwig.
"There you are," he said, spotting her somewhere nearthe very top of the vaulted ceiling. "Get down here, I've gota letter for you."
With a low hoot she stretched her great white wings andsoared down onto his shoulder.
"Right, I know this says 'Snuffles' on the outside," he toldher, giving her the letter to clasp in her beak and, withoutknowing exactly why, whispering, "but it's for Sirius, okay?"
She blinked her amber eyes once and he took that tomean that she understood.
"Safe flight, then," said Harry and he carried her to one ofthe windows; with a moment's pressure on his arm Hedwigtook off into the blindingly bright sky. He watched her untilshe became a tiny black speck and vanished, then switchedhis gaze to Hagrid's hut, clearly visible from this window,and just as clearly uninhabited, the chimney smokeless, thecurtains drawn.
The treetops of the Forbidden Forest swayed in a lightbreeze. Harry watched them, savoring the fresh air on hisface, thinking about Quidditch later ... and then he saw it. Agreat, reptilian winged horse, just like the ones pulling theHogwarts carriages, with leathery black wings spread widelike a pterodactyl's, rose up out of the trees like agrotesque, giant bird. It soared in a great circle and thenplunged once more into the trees. The whole thing hadhappened so quickly Harry could hardly believe what hehad seen, except that his heart was hammering madly.
The Owlery door opened behind him. He leapt in shock,and turning quickly, saw Cho Chang holding a letter and aparcel in her hands.
"Hi," said Harry automatically.
"Oh ... hi," she said breathlessly. "I didn't think anyonewould be up here this early. ... I only remembered fiveminutes ago, it's my mum's birthday."
She held up the parcel.
"Right," said Harry. His brain seemed to have jammed. Hewanted to say something funny and interesting, but thememory of that terrible winged horse was fresh in his mind.
"Nice day," he said, gesturing to the windows. His insidesseemed to shrivel with embarrassment. The weather. Hewas talking about the weather. ...
"Yeah," said Cho, looking around for a suitable owl. "GoodQuidditch conditions. I haven't been out all week, haveyou?"
"No," said Harry.
Cho had selected one of the school barn owls. She coaxedit down onto her arm where it held out an obliging leg sothat she could attach the parcel.
"Hey, has Gryffindor got a new Keeper yet?" she asked.
"Yeah," said Harry. "It's my friend Ron Weasley, d'youknow him?"
"The Tornado-hater?" said Cho rather coolly. "Is he anygood?"
"Yeah," said Harry, "I think so. I didn't see his tryout,though, I was in detention."
Cho looked up, the parcel only half-attached to the owl'slegs.
"That Umbridge woman's foul," she said in a low voice."Putting you in detention just because you told the truthabout how — how — how he died. Everyone heard about it,it was all over the school. You were really brave standing upto her like that."
Harry's insides reinflated so rapidly he felt as though hemight actually float a few inches off the dropping-strewnfloor. Who cared about a stupid flying horse, Cho thoughthe had been really brave. ... For a moment he consideredaccidentally-on-purpose showing her his cut hand as hehelped her tie her parcel onto her owl. ... But the veryinstant that this thrilling thought occurred, the Owlery dooropened again.
Filch, the caretaker, came wheezing into the room. Therewere purple patches on his sunken, veined cheeks, his jowlswere aquiver and his thin gray hair disheveled; he hadobviously run here. Mrs. Norris came trotting at his heels,gazing up at the owls overhead and mewing hungrily. Therewas a restless shifting of wings from above, and a largebrown owl snapped his beak in a menacing fashion.
"Aha!" said Filch, taking a flat-footed step toward Harry,his pouchy cheeks trembling with anger. "I've had a tip-offthat you are intending to place a massive order forDungbombs!"
Harry folded his arms and stared at the caretaker.
"Who told you I was ordering Dungbombs?"
Cho was looking from Harry to Filch, also frowning; thebarn owl on her arm, tired of standing on one leg, gave anadmonitory hoot but she ignored it.
"I have my sources," said Filch in a self-satisfied hiss."Now hand over whatever it is you're sending."
Feeling immensely thankful that he had not dawdled inposting off the letter, Harry said, "I can't, it's gone."
"Gone?" said Filch, his face contorting with rage.
"Gone," said Harry calmly.
Filch opened his mouth furiously, mouthed for a fewseconds, then raked Harry's robes with his eyes. "How do Iknow you haven't got it in your pocket?"
"Because —"
"I saw him send it," said Cho angrily.
Filch rounded on her."You saw him — ?"
"That's right, I saw him," she said fiercely.
There was a moment's pause in which Filch glared at Choand Cho glared right back, then the caretaker turned andshuffled back toward the door. He stopped with his hand onthe handle and looked back at Harry.
"If I get so much as a whiff of a Dungbomb ..."
He stumped off down the stairs. Mrs. Norris cast a lastlonging look at the owls and followed him.
Harry and Cho looked at each other.
"Thanks," Harry said.
"No problem," said Cho, finally fixing the parcel to thebarn owl's other leg, her face slightly pink. "You weren'tordering Dungbombs, were you?"
"No," said Harry.
"I wonder why he thought you were, then?" she said, asshe carried the owl to the window.
Harry shrugged; he was quite as mystified by that as shewas, though, oddly, it was not bothering him very much atthe moment.
They left the Owlery together. At the entrance of acorridor that led toward the west wing of the castle, Chosaid, "I'm going this way. Well, I'll ... I'll see you around,Harry."
"Yeah ... see you."
She smiled at him and departed. He walked on, feelingquietly elated. He had managed to have an entireconversation with her and not embarrassed himself once. ...You were really brave standing up to her like that. ... Shehad called him brave. ... She did not hate him for beingalive. ...
Of course, she had preferred Cedric, he knew that. ...Though if he'd only asked her to the ball before Cedric had,things might have turned out differently. ... She had seemedsincerely sorry that she had to refuse when Harry hadasked her. ...
"Morning," Harry said brightly to Ron and Hermione,joining them at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
"What are you looking so pleased about?" said Ron,eyeing Harry in surprise.
"Erm ... Quidditch later," said Harry happily, pulling alarge platter of bacon and eggs toward him.
"Oh ... yeah ..." said Ron. He put down the bit of toast hewas eating and took a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then hesaid, "Listen ... you don't fancy going out a bit earlier withme, do you? Just to — er — give me some practice beforetraining? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit ..."
"Yeah, okay," said Harry.
"Look, I don't think you should," said Hermione seriously,"you're both really behind on homework as it —"
But she broke off; the morning post was arriving and, asusual, the Daily Prophet was soaring toward her in the beakof a screech owl, which landed perilously close to the sugarbowl and held out a leg; Hermione pushed a Knut into itsleather pouch, took the newspaper, and scanned the frontpage critically as the owl took off again.
"Anything interesting?" said Ron; Harry smiled — he knewRon was keen to get her off the subject of homework.
"No," she sighed, "just some guff about the bass player inthe Weird Sisters getting married. ..."
She opened the paper and disappeared behind it. Harrydevoted himself to another helping of eggs and bacon; Ronwas staring up at the high windows, looking slightlypreoccupied.
"Wait a moment," said Hermione suddenly. "Oh no ...Sirius!""What's happened?" said Harry, and he snatched at thepaper so violently that it ripped down the middle so that heand Hermione were holding half each.
" 'The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from areliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer... blah blah blah ... is currently hiding in London!' "Hermione read from her half in an anguished whisper.
"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything," said Harry in a low,furious voice. "He did recognize Sirius on the platform. ..."
"What?" said Ron, looking alarmed. "You didn't say —"
"Shh!" said the other two.
"... 'Ministry warns Wizarding community that Black isvery dangerous ... killed thirteen people ... broke out ofAzkaban ...' the usual rubbish," Hermione concluded, layingdown her half of the paper and looking fearfully at Harryand Ron. "Well, he just won't be able to leave the houseagain, that's all," she whispered. "Dumbledore did warnhim not to."
Harry looked down glumly at the bit of the Prophet he hadtorn off. Most of the page was devoted to an advertisementfor Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, which wasapparently having a sale.
"Hey!" he said, flattening it down so Hermione and Roncould both see it. "Look at this!"
"I've got all the robes I want," said Ron.
"No," said Harry, "look ... this little piece here ..."
Ron and Hermione bent closer to read it; the item wasbarely an inch long and placed right at the bottom of acolumn. It was headlined:
TRESPASS AT MINISTRY
Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens,Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizengamot chargedwith trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry ofMagic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by Ministry ofMagic watch-wizard Eric Munch, who found himattempting to force his way through a top-security door atone o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speakin his own defense, was convicted on both charges andsentenced to six months in Azkaban.
"Sturgis Podmore?" said Ron slowly, "but he's that blokewho looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he? He's oneof the Ord —"
"Ron, shh!" said Hermione, casting a terrified look aroundthem.
"Six months in Azkaban!" whispered Harry, shocked. "Justfor trying to get through a door!"
"Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through adoor — what on earth was he doing at the Ministry of Magicat one o'clock in the morning?" breathed Hermione.
"D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?"Ron muttered.
"Wait a moment. ..." said Harry slowly. "Sturgis wassupposed to come and see us off, remember?"
The other two looked at him
"Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard going toKing's Cross, remember? And Moody was all annoyedbecause he didn't turn up, so that doesn't seem like he wassupposed to be on a job for them, does it?"
"Well, maybe they didn't expect him to get caught," saidHermione.
"It could be a frame-up!" Ron exclaimed excitedly. "No —listen!" he went on, dropping his voice dramatically at thethreatening look on Hermione's face. "The Ministrysuspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so — I dunno — theylured him to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to getthrough a door at all! Maybe they've just made somethingup to get him!"
There was a pause while Harry and Hermione consideredthis. Harry thought it seemed far-fetched; Hermione, on theother hand, looked rather impressed and said, "Do youknow, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true."
She folded up her half of the newspaper thoughtfully.When Harry laid down his knife and fork she seemed tocome out of a reverie.
"Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprouton Self-Fertilizing Shrubs first, and if we're lucky we'll beable to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus beforelunch. ..."
Harry felt a small twinge of guilt at the thought of the pileof homework awaiting him upstairs, but the sky was a clear,exhilarating blue, and he had not been on his Firebolt for aweek. ...
"I mean, we can do it tonight," said Ron, as he and Harrywalked down the sloping lawns toward the Quidditch pitch,their broomsticks over their shoulders, Hermione's direwarnings that they would fail all their O.W.L.s still ringing intheir ears. "And we've got tomorrow. She gets too workedup about work, that's her trouble. ..." There was a pauseand he added, in a slightly more anxious tone, "D'you thinkshe meant it when she said we weren't copying from her?"
"Yeah, I do," said Harry. "Still, this is important too, we'vegot to practice if we want to stay on the Quidditch team. ..."
"Yeah, that's right," said Ron in a heartened tone. "Andwe have got plenty of time to do it all. ..."
Harry glanced over to his right as they approached theQuidditch pitch, to where the trees of the Forbidden Forestwere swaying darkly. Nothing flew out of them; the sky wasempty but for a few distant owls fluttering around theOwlery Tower. He had enough to worry about; the flyinghorse wasn't doing him any harm: He pushed it out of hismind.
They collected balls from the cupboard in the changingroom and set to work, Ron guarding the three tallgoalposts, Harry playing Chaser and trying to get theQuaffle past Ron. Harry thought Ron was pretty good; heblocked three-quarters of the goals Harry attempted to putpast him and played better the longer they practiced. Aftera couple of hours they returned to the school, where theyate lunch, during which Hermione made it quite clear thatshe thought they were irresponsible, then returned to theQuidditch pitch for the real training session. All theirteammates but Angelina were already in the changing roomwhen they entered.
"All right, Ron?" said George, winking at him.
"Yeah," said Ron, who had become quieter and quieter allthe way down to the pitch.
"Ready to show us all up, Ickle Prefect?" said Fred,emerging tousle-haired from the neck of his Quidditchrobes, a slightly malicious grin on his face.
"Shut up," said Ron, stony-faced, pulling on his own teamrobes for the first time. They fitted him well consideringthey had been Oliver Wood's, who was rather broader inthe shoulder.
"Okay everyone," said Angelina, entering from theCaptain's office, already changed. "Let's get to it; Alicia andFred, if you can just bring the ball crate out for us. Oh, andthere are a couple of people out there watching but I wantyou to just ignore them, all right?"
Something in her would-be casual voice made Harry thinkhe might know who the uninvited spectators were, and sureenough, when they left the changing room for the brightsunlight of the pitch it was to a storm of catcalls and jeersfrom the Slytherin Quidditch team and assorted hangerson, who were grouped halfway up the empty stands andwhose voices echoed loudly around the stadium.
"What's that Weasley's riding?" Malfoy called in hissneering drawl. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm ona moldy old log like that?"
Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson guffawed andshrieked with laughter. Ron mounted his broom and kickedoff from the ground and Harry followed him, watching hisears turn red from behind.
"Ignore them," he said, accelerating to catch up with Ron."We'll see who's laughing after we play them. ..."
"Exactly the attitude I want, Harry," said Angelinaapprovingly, soaring around them with the Quaffle underher arm and slowing to hover on the spot in front of herairborne team. "Okay everyone, we're going to start withsome passes just to warm up, the whole team please —"
"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?"shrieked Pansy Parkinson from below. "Why would anyonewant to look like they've got worms coming out of theirhead?"
Angelina swept her long braided hair out of her face andsaid calmly, "Spread out, then, and let's see what we can do...."
Harry reversed away from the others to the far side of thepitch. Ron fell back toward the opposite goal. Angelinaraised the Quaffle with one hand and threw it hard to Fred,who passed to George, who passed to Harry, who passed toRon, who dropped it.
The Slytherins, led by Malfoy, roared and screamed withlaughter. Ron, who had pelted toward the ground to catchthe Quaffle before it landed, pulled out of the dive untidily,so that he slipped sideways on his broom, and returned toplaying height, blushing. Harry saw Fred and Georgeexchange looks, but uncharacteristically neither of themsaid anything, for which he was grateful.
"Pass it on, Ron," called Angelina, as though nothing hadhappened.
Ron threw the Quaffle to Alicia, who passed back to Harry,who passed to George. ...
"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" called Malfoy."Sure you don't need a lie-down? It must be, what, a wholeweek since you were in the hospital wing, that's a recordfor you, isn't it?"
Fred passed to Angelina; she reverse passed to Harry,who had not been expecting it, but caught it in the very tipsof his fingers and passed it quickly to Ron, who lunged for itand missed by inches.
"Come on now, Ron," said Angelina crossly, as Ron divedfor the ground again, chasing the Quaffle. "Pay attention."It would have been hard to say whether Ron's face or theQuaffle was a deeper scarlet when he returned again toplaying height. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin teamwere howling with laughter.
On his third attempt, Ron caught the Quaffle; perhaps outof relief he passed it on so enthusiastically that it soaredstraight through Katie's outstretched hands and hit herhard in the face.
"Sorry!" Ron groaned, zooming forward to see whetherhe had done any damage.
"Get back in position, she's fine!" barked Angelina. "Butas you're passing to a teammate, do try not to knock her offher broom, won't you? We've got Bludgers for that!"
Katie's nose was bleeding. Down below the Slytherinswere stamping their feet and jeering. Fred and Georgeconverged on Katie.
"Here, take this," Fred told her, handing her somethingsmall and purple from out of his pocket. "It'll clear it up inno time."
"All right," called Angelina, "Fred, George, go and getyour bats and a Bludger; Ron, get up to the goalposts,Harry, release the Snitch when I say so. We're going to aimfor Ron's goal, obviously."
Harry zoomed off after the twins to fetch the Snitch.
"Ron's making a right pig's ear of things, isn't he?"muttered George, as the three of them landed at the cratecontaining the balls and opened it to extract one of theBludgers and the Snitch.
"He's just nervous," said Harry. "He was fine when I waspracticing with him this morning."
"Yeah, well, I hope he hasn't peaked too soon," said Fredgloomily.
They returned to the air. When Angelina blew her whistle,Harry released the Snitch and Fred and George let fly theBludger; from that moment on, Harry was barely aware ofwhat the others were doing. It was his job to recapture thetiny fluttering golden ball that was worth a hundred andfifty points to the Seeker's team and doing so requiredenormous speed and skill. He accelerated, rolling andswerving in and out of the Chasers, the warm autumn airwhipping his face and the distant yells of the Slytherins somuch meaningless roaring in his ears. ... But too soon, thewhistle brought him to a halt again.
"Stop — stop – STOP!" screamed Angelina. "Ron — you'renot covering your middle post!"
Harry looked around at Ron, who was hovering in front ofthe left-hand hoop, leaving the other two completelyunprotected.
"Oh ... sorry ..."
"You keep shifting around while you're watching theChasers!" said Angelina. "Either stay in center position untilyou have to move to defend a hoop, or else circle the hoops,but don't drift vaguely off to one side, that's how you let inthe last three goals!"
"Sorry ..." Ron repeated, his red face shining like abeacon against the bright blue sky.
"And Katie, can't you do something about thatnosebleed?"
"It's just getting worse!" said Katie thickly, attempting tostem the flow with her sleeve.
Harry glanced around at Fred, who was looking anxiousand checking his pockets. He saw Fred pull out somethingpurple, examine it for a second, and then look around atKatie, evidently horrorstruck.
"Well, let's try again," said Angelina. She was ignoring theSlytherins, who had now set up a chant of "Gryffindor arelosers, Gryffindor are losers," but there was a certainrigidity about her seat on the broom nevertheless.
This time they had been flying for barely three minuteswhen Angelina's whistle sounded. Harry, who had justsighted the Snitch circling the opposite goalpost, pulled upfeeling distinctly aggrieved.
"What now?" he said impatiently to Alicia, who wasnearest.
"Katie," she said shortly.
Harry turned and saw Angelina, Fred, and George allflying as fast as they could toward Katie. Harry and Aliciasped toward her too. It was plain that Angelina had stoppedtraining just in time; Katie was now chalk-white andcovered in blood.
"She needs the hospital wing," said Angelina.
"We'll take her," said Fred. "She — er — might haveswallowed a Blood Blisterpod by mistake —"
"Well, there's no point continuing with no Beaters and aChaser gone," said Angelina glumly, as Fred and Georgezoomed off toward the castle supporting Katie betweenthem. "Come on, let's go and get changed."
The Slytherins continued to chant as they trailed backinto the changing rooms.
"How was practice?" asked Hermione rather coolly halfan hour later, as Harry and Ron climbed through theportrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"It was —" Harry began.
"Completely lousy," said Ron in a hollow voice, sinking intoa chair beside Hermione. She looked up at Ron and herfrostiness seemed to melt.
"Well, it was only your first one," she said consolingly, "it'sbound to take time to —"
"Who said it was me who made it lousy?" snapped Ron.
"No one," said Hermione, looking taken aback, "I thought—"
"You thought I was bound to be rubbish?"
"No, of course I didn't! Look, you said it was lousy so I just—"
"I'm going to get started on some homework," said Ronangrily and stomped off to the staircase to the boys'dormitories and vanished from sight. Hermione turned toHarry.
"Was he lousy?"
"No," said Harry loyally.
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Well, I suppose he could've played better," Harrymuttered, "but it was only the first training session, like yousaid. ..."
Neither Harry nor Ron seemed to make much headwaywith their homework that night. Harry knew Ron was toopreoccupied with how badly he had performed at Quidditchpractice and he himself was having difficulty in getting thechant of "Gryffindor are losers" out of his head.
They spent the whole of Sunday in the common room,buried in their books while the room around them filled up,then emptied: It was another clear, fine day and most oftheir fellow Gryffindors spent the day out in the grounds,enjoying what might well be some of the last sunshine thatyear. By the evening Harry felt as though somebody hadbeen beating his brain against the inside of his skull.
"You know, we probably should try and get morehomework done during the week," Harry muttered to Ron,as they finally laid aside Professor McGonagall's long essayon the Inanimatus Conjurus spell and turned miserably toProfessor Sinistra's equally long and difficult essay aboutJupiter's moons.
"Yeah," said Ron, rubbing slightly bloodshot eyes andthrowing his fifth spoiled bit of parchment into the firebeside them. "Listen ... shall we just ask Hermione if we canhave a look at what she's done?"
Harry glanced over at her; she was sitting withCrookshanks on her lap and chatting merrily to Ginny as apair of knitting needles flashed in midair in front of her, nowknitting a pair of shapeless elf socks.
"No," he said heavily, "you know she won't let us."
And so they worked on while the sky outside the windowsbecame steadily darker; slowly, the crowd in the commonroom began to thin again. At half-past eleven, Hermionewandered over to them, yawning.
"Nearly done?""No," said Ron shortly.
"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," shesaid, pointing over Ron's shoulder at a line in his Astronomyessay, "and it's Io that's got the volcanos."
"Thanks," snarled Ron, scratching out the offendingsentences.
"Sorry, I only —"
"Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticize —"
"Ron —"
"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right,Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here —"
"No — look!"
Hermione was pointing to the nearest window. Harry andRon both looked over. A handsome screech owl wasstanding on the windowsill, gazing into the room at Ron.
"Isn't that Hermes?" said Hermione, sounding amazed.
"Blimey, it is!" said Ron quietly, throwing down his quilland getting to his feet. "What's Percy writing to me for?"
He crossed to the window and opened it; Hermes flewinside, landed upon Ron's essay, and held out a leg to whicha letter was attached. Ron took it off and the owl departedat once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing of themoon Io.
"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," said Ron, sinkingback into his chair and staring at the words on the outsideof the scroll: To Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House,Hogwarts. He looked up at the other two. "What d'youreckon?"
"Open it!" said Hermione eagerly. Harry nodded.
Ron unrolled the scroll and began to read. The fartherdown the parchment his eyes traveled, the morepronounced became his scowl. When he had finishedreading, he looked disgusted. He thrust the letter at Harryand Hermione, who leaned toward each other to read ittogether:
Dear Ron,
I have only just heard (from no less a person than theMinister of Magic himself, who has it from your newteacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become aHogwarts prefect.
I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this newsand must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit thatI have always been afraid that you would take what wemight call the "Fred and George" route, rather thanfollowing in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelingson hearing you have stopped flouting authority and havedecided to shoulder some real responsibility.
But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, Iwant to give you some advice, which is why I am sendingthis at night rather than by the usual morning post.Hopefully you will be able to read this away from pryingeyes and avoid awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me youare now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot ofHarry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could putyou in danger of losing your badge more than continuedfraternization with that boy. Yes, I am sure you aresurprised to hear this — no doubt you will say that Potterhas always been Dumbledore's favorite — but I feel boundto tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge atHogwarts much longer and the people who count have avery different — and probably more accurate — view ofPotters behavior. I shall say no more here, but if you look atthe Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of theway the wind is blowing — and see if you can spot yourstruly!
Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with thesame brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to yourfuture prospects, and I am talking here about life afterschool too. As you must be aware, given that our fatherescorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing thissummer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did notcome out of it looking too good. He got off on a meretechnicality if you ask me and many of the people I'vespoken to remain convinced of his guilt.
It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter — Iknow that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent— but if you have any worries about this, or have spottedanything else in Potter's behavior that is troubling you, Iurge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a really delightfulwoman, who I know will be only too happy to advise you.
This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hintedabove, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon beover. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to theschool and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that so farProfessor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperationfrom staff as she strives to make those necessary changeswithin Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires(although she should find this easier from next week —again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this — astudent who shows himself willing to help ProfessorUmbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship ina couple of years!
I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over thesummer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraidI can no longer live under their roof while they remainmixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (ifyou are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell herthat a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend ofDumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban fortrespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyesto the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currentlyrubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to haveescaped the stigma of association with such people — theMinister really could not be more gracious to me — and Ido hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind youto the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actionseither. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realize howmistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready toaccept a full apology when that day comes.
Please think over what I have said most carefully,particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulationsagain on becoming prefect.
Your brother,
Percy
Harry looked up at Ron.
"Well," he said, trying to sound as though he found thewhole thing a joke, "if you want to — er — what is it?" (Hechecked Percy's letter.) "Oh yeah — 'sever ties' with me, Iswear I won't get violent."
"Give it back," said Ron, holding out his hand. "He is —"Ron said jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half, "the world's"— he tore it into quarters — "biggest" — he tore it intoeighths — "git." He threw the pieces into the fire.
"Come on, we've got to get this finished some time beforedawn," he said briskly to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra'sessay back toward him.
Hermione was looking at Ron with an odd expression onher face.
"Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.
"What?" said Ron.
"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correctthem," she said.
"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a lifesaver," saidRon, "what can I — ?"
"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave ourhomework this late again,' " she said, holding out bothhands for their essays, but she looked slightly amused allthe same.
"Thanks a million, Hermione," said Harry weakly, passingover his essay and sinking back into his armchair, rubbinghis eyes.
It was now past midnight and the common room wasdeserted but for the three of them and Crookshanks. Theonly sound was that of Hermione's quill scratching outsentences here and there on their essays and the ruffle ofpages as she checked various facts in the reference booksstrewn across the table. Harry was exhausted. He also feltan odd, sick, empty feeling in his stomach that had nothingto do with tiredness and everything to do with the letternow curling blackly in the heart of the fire.
He knew that half the people inside Hogwarts thoughthim strange, even mad; he knew that the Daily Prophet hadbeen making snide allusions to him for months, but therewas something about seeing it written down like that inPercy's writing, about knowing that Percy was advising Ronto drop him and even to tell tales on him to Umbridge, thatmade his situation real to him as nothing else had. He hadknown Percy for four years, had stayed in his house duringthe summers, shared a tent with him during the QuidditchWorld Cup, had even been awarded full marks by him in thesecond task of the Triwizard Tournament last year, yet now,Percy thought him unbalanced and possibly violent.
And with a surge of sympathy for his godfather, Harrythought that Sirius was probably the only person he knewwho could really understand how he felt at the moment,because Sirius was in the same situation; nearly everyonein the Wizarding world thought Sirius a dangerousmurderer and a great Voldemort supporter and he had hadto live with that knowledge for fourteen years. ...
Harry blinked. He had just seen something in the fire thatcould not have been there. It had flashed into sight andvanished immediately. No ... it could not have been. ... Hehad imagined it because he had been thinking about Sirius....
"Okay, write that down," Hermione said to Ron, pushinghis essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back toRon, "and then copy out this conclusion that I've written foryou."
"Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful personI've ever met," said Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to youagain —"
"— I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermione."Harry, yours is okay except for this bit at the end, I thinkyou must have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europa'scovered in ice, not mice — Harry?"
Harry had slid off his chair onto his knees and was nowcrouching on the singed and threadbare hearthrug, gazinginto the flames.
"Er — Harry?" said Ron uncertainly. "Why are you downthere?"
"Because I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," saidHarry.
He spoke quite calmly; after all, he had seen Sirius's headin this very fire the previous year and talked to it too.Nevertheless, he could not be sure that he had really seenit this time. ... It had vanished so quickly. ...
"Sirius's head?" Hermione repeated. "You mean like whenhe wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament?But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too — Sirius!"
She gasped, gazing at the fire; Ron dropped his quill.There in the middle of the dancing flames sat Sirius's head,long dark hair falling around his grinning face.
"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyoneelse had disappeared," he said. "I've been checking everyhour."
"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harrysaid, half laughing.
"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clearyet."
"But what if you'd been seen?" said Hermione anxiously.
"Well, I think a girl — first year by the look of her —might've got a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry,"Sirius said hastily, as Hermione clapped a hand to hermouth. "I was gone the moment she looked back at me andI'll bet she just thought I was an oddly shaped log orsomething."
"But Sirius, this is taking an awful risk —" Hermionebegan.
"You sound like Molly," said Sirius. "This was the only wayI could come up with of answering Harry's letter withoutresorting to a code — and codes are breakable."At the mention of Harry's letter, Hermione and Ron hadboth turned to stare at him.
"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" said Hermioneaccusingly.
"I forgot," said Harry, which was perfectly true; hismeeting with Cho in the Owlery had driven everythingbefore it out of his mind. "Don't look at me like that,Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secretinformation out of it, was there, Sirius?"
"No, it was very good," said Sirius, smiling. "Anyway, we'dbetter be quick, just in case we're disturbed — your scar."
"What about — ?" Ron began, but Hermione said quickly,"We'll tell you afterward, go on, Sirius."
"Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don'tthink it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching alllast year, didn't it?"
"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened wheneverVoldemort was feeling a powerful emotion," said Harry,ignoring, as usual, Ron and Hermione's winces. "So maybehe was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night Ihad that detention."
"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often," saidSirius.
"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridgetouching me when I was in detention with her?" Harryasked.
"I doubt it," said Sirius. "I know her by reputation and I'msure she's no Death Eater —"
"She's foul enough to be one," said Harry darkly and Ronand Hermione nodded vigorously in agreement.
"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and DeathEaters," said Sirius with a wry smile. "I know she's a nastypiece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk abouther."
"Does Lupin know her?" asked Harry quickly,remembering Umbridge's comments about dangerous halfbreeds during her first lesson.
"No," said Sirius, "but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolflegislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible forhim to get a job."
Harry remembered how much shabbier Lupin lookedthese days and his dislike of Umbridge deepened evenfurther.
"What's she got against werewolves?" said Hermioneangrily.
"Scared of them, I expect," said Sirius, smiling at herindignation. "Apparently she loathes part-humans; shecampaigned to have mer-people rounded up and taggedlast year too. Imagine wasting your time and energypersecuting merpeople when there are little toerags likeKreacher on the loose —"
Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset.
"Sirius!" she said reproachfully. "Honestly, if you made abit of an effort with Kreacher I'm sure he'd respond, afterall, you are the only member of his family he's got left, andProfessor Dumbledore said —"
"So what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Siriusinterrupted. "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"
"No," said Harry, ignoring Hermione's affronted look atbeing cut off in her defense of Kreacher. "She's not lettingus use magic at all!"
"All we do is read the stupid textbook," said Ron.
"Ah, well, that figures," said Sirius. "Our information frominside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trainedin combat."
"Trained in combat?" repeated Harry incredulously."What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort ofwizard army?"
"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," said Sirius,"or rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore'sdoing — forming his own private army, with which he will beable to take on the Ministry of Magic."
There was a pause at this, then Ron said, "That's thestupidest thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff thatLuna Lovegood comes out with."
"So we're being prevented from learning Defense Againstthe Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spellsagainst the Ministry?" said Hermione, looking furious.
"Yep," said Sirius. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop atnothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid aboutDumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he hasDumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."
This reminded Harry of Percy's letter.
"D'you know if there's going to be anything aboutDumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow? Only Ron'sbrother Percy reckons there will be —"
"I don't know," said Sirius, "I haven't seen anyone fromthe Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just beenKreacher and me here. ..."
There was a definite note of bitterness in Sirius's voice.
"So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?"
"Ah ..." said Sirius, "well, he was supposed to be back bynow, no one's sure what's happened to him." Then, seeingtheir stricken faces, he added quickly, "But Dumbledore'snot worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state;I'm sure Hagrid's fine."
"But if he was supposed to be back by now ..." saidHermione in a small, worried voice.
"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch withher and she says they got separated on the journey home —but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or — well, nothingto suggest he's not perfectly okay."
Unconvinced, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchangedworried looks.
"Listen, don't go asking too many questions aboutHagrid," said Sirius hastily, "it'll just draw even moreattention to the fact that he's not back, and I knowDumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll beokay." And when they did not appear cheered by this, Siriusadded, "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend anyway? Iwas thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at thestation, didn't we? I thought I could —"
"NO!" said Harry and Hermione together, very loudly.
"Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" said Hermioneanxiously.
"Oh that," said Sirius, grinning, "they're always guessingwhere I am, they haven't really got a clue —"
"Yeah, but we think this time they have," said Harry."Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knewit was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius — youknow, Lucius Malfoy — so don't come up here, whatever youdo, if Malfoy recognizes you again —"
"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius. Helooked most displeased. "Just an idea, thought you mightlike to get together —"
"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!"said Harry.
There was a pause in which Sirius looked out of the fire atHarry, a crease between his sunken eyes.
"You're less like your father than I thought," he saidfinally, a definite coolness in his voice. "The risk would'vebeen what made it fun for James."
"Look —"
"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher comingdown the stairs," said Sirius, but Harry was sure he waslying. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into thefire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"
There was a tiny pop, and the place where Sirius's headhad been was flickering flame once more
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