Untitled Part 29
"But why haven't you got Occlumency lessons anymore?"said Hermione, frowning.
"I've told you," Harry muttered. "Snape reckons I cancarry on by myself now I've got the basics. ..."
"So you've stopped having funny dreams?" said Hermioneskeptically.
"Pretty much," said Harry, not looking at her.
"Well, I don't think Snape should stop until you'reabsolutely sure you can control them!" said Hermioneindignantly. "Harry, I think you should go back to him andask —"
"No," said Harry forcefully. "Just drop it, Hermione,okay?"
It was the first day of the Easter holidays and Hermione,as was her custom, had spent a large part of the daydrawing up study schedules for the three of them. Harryand Ron had let her do it — it was easier than arguing withher and, in any case, they might come in useful.
Ron had been startled to discover that there were only sixweeks left until their exams.
"How can that come as a shock?" Hermione demanded, asshe tapped each little square on Ron's schedule with herwand so that it flashed a different color according to itssubject.
"I dunno ..." said Ron, "there's been a lot going on. ..."
"Well, there you are," she said, handing him his schedule,"if you follow that you should do fine."
Ron looked down it gloomily, but then brightened.
"You've given me an evening off every week!"
"That's for Quidditch practice," said Hermione.
The smile faded from Ron's face.
"What's the point?" he said. "We've got about as muchchance of winning the Quidditch Cup this year as Dad's gotof becoming Minister of Magic. ..."
Hermione said nothing. She was looking at Harry, whowas staring blankly at the opposite wall of the commonroom while Crookshanks pawed at his hand, trying to gethis ears scratched.
"What's wrong, Harry?"
"What?" he said quickly. "Nothing ..."
He seized his copy of Defensive Magical Theory andpretended to be looking something up in the index.Crookshanks gave him up as a bad job and slunk awayunder Hermione's chair.
"I saw Cho earlier," said Hermione tentatively, "and shelooked really miserable too. ... Have you two had a rowagain?"
"Wha — oh yeah, we have," said Harry, seizing gratefullyon the excuse.
"What about?"
"That sneak friend of hers, Marietta," said Harry.
Yeah, well, I don't blame you!" said Ron angrily, settingdown his study schedule. "If it hadn't been for her ..."
Ron went into a rant about Marietta Edgecombe, whichHarry found helpful. All he had to do was look angry, nod,and say "yeah" and "that's right" whenever Ron drewbreath, leaving his mind free to dwell, ever more miserably,on what he had seen in the Pensieve.
He felt as though the memory of it was eating him frominside. He had been so sure that his parents had beenwonderful people that he never had the slightest difficultyin disbelieving Snape's aspersions on his father's character.Hadn't people like Hagrid and Sirius told Harry howwonderful his father had been? (Yeah, well, look whatSirius was like himself, said a nagging voice inside Harry'shead. ... He was as bad, wasn't he?) Yes, he had onceoverheard Professor McGonagall saying that his father andSirius had been troublemakers at school, but she haddescribed them as forerunners of the Weasley twins, andHarry could not imagine Fred and George danglingsomeone upside down for the fun of it ... not unless theyreally loathed them ... Perhaps Malfoy, or somebody whoreally deserved it ...
Harry tried to make a case for Snape having deservedwhat he had suffered at James's hands — but hadn't Lilyasked, "What's he done to you?" And hadn't James replied,"It's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean?"Hadn't James started it all simply because Sirius said hewas bored? Harry remembered Lupin saying back inGrimmauld Place that Dumbledore had made him prefect inthe hope that he would be able to exercise some controlover James and Sirius. ... But in the Pensieve, he had satthere and let it all happen. ...
Harry reminded himself that Lily had intervened; hismother had been decent, yet the memory of the look on herface as she had shouted at James disturbed him quite asmuch as anything else. She had clearly loathed James andHarry simply could not understand how they could haveended up married. Once or twice he even wonderedwhether James had forced her into it. ...
For nearly five years the thought of his father had been asource of comfort, of inspiration. Whenever someone hadtold him he was like James he had glowed with pride inside.And now ... now he felt cold and miserable at the thought ofhim.
The weather grew breezier, brighter, and warmer as theholidays passed, but Harry was stuck with the rest of thefifth and seventh years, who were all trapped inside,traipsing back and forth to the library. Harry pretendedthat his bad mood had no other cause but the approachingexams, and as his fellow Gryffindors were sick of studyingthemselves, his excuse went unchallenged.
"Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?"
"Huh?"
He looked around. Ginny Weasley, looking verywindswept, had joined him at the library table where hehad been sitting alone. It was late on Sunday evening;Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor Tower to reviewAncient Runes; Ron had Quidditch practice.
"Oh hi," said Harry, pulling his books back toward him."How come you're not at practice?"
"It's over," said Ginny. "Ron had to take Jack Sloper up tothe hospital wing."
"Why?"
"Well, we're not sure, but we think he knocked himselfout with his own bat." She sighed heavily. "Anyway ... apackage just arrived, it's only just got through Umbridge'snew screening process. ..."
She hoisted a box wrapped in brown paper onto the table;it had clearly been unwrapped and carelessly rewrapped,and there was a scribbled note across it in red ink, readingINSPECTED AND PASSED BY THE HOGWARTS HIGHINQUISITOR.
"It's Easter eggs from Mum," said Ginny. "There's one foryou. ... There you go. ..."
She handed him a handsome chocolate egg decoratedwith small, iced Snitches and, according to the packaging,containing a bag of Fizzing Whizbees. Harry looked at it fora moment, then, to his horror, felt a hard lump rise in histhroat.
"Are you okay, Harry?" asked Ginny quietly.
"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry gruffly. The lump in his throatwas painful. He did not understand why an Easter eggshould have made him feel like this.
"You seem really down lately," Ginny persisted. "You know,I'm sure if you just talked to Cho ..."
"It's not Cho I want to talk to," said Harry brusquely.
"Who is it, then?" asked Ginny.
"I ..."
He glanced around to make quite sure that nobody waslistening; Madam Pince was several shelves away, stampingout a pile of books for a frantic-looking Hannah Abbott.
"I wish I could talk to Sirius," he muttered. "But I know Ican't."
More to give himself something to do than because hereally wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, brokeoff a large bit, and put it into his mouth.
"Well," said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of eggtoo, "if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we couldthink of a way to do it. ..."
"Come on," said Harry hopelessly. "With Umbridgepolicing the fires and reading all our mail?"
"The thing about growing up with Fred and George," saidGinny thoughtfully, "is that you sort of start thinkinganything's possible if you've got enough nerve."
Harry looked at her. Perhaps it was the effect of thechocolate — Lupin had always advised eating some afterencounters with dementors — or simply because he hadfinally spoken aloud the wish that had been burning insidehim for a week, but he felt a bit more hopeful. ...
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
"Oh damn," whispered Ginny, jumping to her feet. "Iforgot —"
Madam Pince was swooping down upon them, hershriveled face contorted with rage.
"Chocolate in the library!" she screamed. "Out — out —OUT!"
And whipping out her wand, she caused Harry's books,bag, and ink bottle to chase him and Ginny from the library,whacking them repeatedly over the head as they ran.
As though to underline the importance of their upcomingexaminations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets, and noticesconcerning various Wizarding careers appeared on thetables in Gryffindor Tower shortly before the end of theholidays, along with yet another notice on the board, whichread:
CAREER ADVICE
All fifth years will be required to attend a short meetingwith their Head of House during the first week of theSummer term, in which they will be given the opportunityto discuss their future careers. Times of individualappointments are listed below.
Harry looked down the list and found that he wasexpected in Professor McGonagall's office at half-past twoon Monday, which would mean missing most of Divination.He and the other fifth years spent a considerable part of thefinal weekend of the Easter break reading all the careerinformation that had been left there for their perusal.
"Well, I don't fancy Healing," said Ron on the last eveningof the holidays. He was immersed in a leaflet that carriedthe crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St. Mungo's on itsfront. "It says here you need at least an E at N.E.W.T. levelin Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, andDefense Against the Dark Arts. I mean ... blimey. ... Don'twant much, do they?"
"Well, it's a very responsible job, isn't it?" said Hermioneabsently. She was poring over a bright pink-and-orangeleaflet that was headed SO YOU THINK YOU'D LIKE TOWORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS? "You don't seem to needmany qualifications to liaise with Muggles. ... All they wantis an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. ... 'Much more important isyour enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!' "
"You'd need more than a good sense of fun to liaise withmy uncle," said Harry darkly. "Good sense of when to duck,more like ..." He was halfway through a pamphlet onWizard banking. "Listen to this:
" 'Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel,adventure, and substantial, danger-related treasurebonuses? Then consider a position with GringottsWizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting CurseBreakers for thrilling opportunities abroad. ...' They wantArithmancy, though. ... You could do it, Hermione!"
"I don't much fancy banking," said Hermione vaguely, nowimmersed in HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAINSECURITY TROLLS?
"Hey," said a voice in Harry's ear. He looked around; Fredand George had come to join them. "Ginny's had a wordwith us about you," said Fred, stretching out his legs on thetable in front of them and causing several booklets oncareers with the Ministry of Magic to slide off onto the floor."She says you need to talk to Sirius?"
"What?" said Hermione sharply, freezing with her handhalfway toward picking up MAKE A BANG AT THEDEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS ANDCATASTROPHES.
"Yeah ..." said Harry, trying to sound casual, "yeah, Ithought I'd like —"
"Don't be so ridiculous," said Hermione, straightening upand looking at him as though she could not believe hereyes. "With Umbridge groping around in the fires andfrisking all the owls?"
"Well, we think we can find a way around that," saidGeorge, stretching and smiling. "It's a simple matter ofcausing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that wehave been rather quiet on the mayhem front during theEaster holidays?"
"What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disruptingleisure time?" continued Fred. "No point at all, weanswered ourselves. And of course, we'd have messed uppeople's studying too, which would be the very last thingwe'd want to do."
He gave Hermione a sanctimonious little nod. She lookedrather taken aback by this thoughtfulness.
"But it's business as usual from tomorrow," Fredcontinued briskly. "And if we're going to be causing a bit ofuproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat withSirius?"
"Yes, but still," said Hermione with an air of explainingsomething very simple to somebody very obtuse, "even ifyou do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk tohim?"
"Umbridge's office," said Harry quietly.
He had been thinking about it for a fortnight and couldthink of no alternative; Umbridge herself had told him thatthe only fire that was not being watched was her own.
"Are — you — insane?" said Hermione in a hushed voice.
Ron had lowered his leaflet on jobs in the cultivatedfungus trade and was watching the conversation warily.
"I don't think so," said Harry, shrugging.
And how are you going to get in there in the first place?"
Harry was ready for this question.
"Sirius's knife," he said.
"Excuse me?"
"Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll openany lock," said Harry. "So even if she's bewitched the doorso Alohomora won't work, which I bet she has —"
"What do you think about this?" Hermione demanded ofRon, and Harry was reminded irresistibly of Mrs. Weasleyappealing to her husband during Harry's first dinner inGrimmauld Place.
"I dunno," said Ron, looking alarmed at being asked togive an opinion. "If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn'tit?"
"Spoken like a true friend and Weasley," said Fred,clapping Ron hard on the back. "Right, then. We're thinkingof doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it shouldcause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors —Harry, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw herright away from her own office — I reckon we should beable to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?" he said,looking at George.
"Easy," said George.
"What sort of diversion is it?" asked Ron.
"You'll see, little bro," said Fred, as he and George got upagain. "At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory theSmarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow."
Harry awoke very early the next day, feeling almost asanxious as he had done on the morning of his hearing at theMinistry of Magic. It was not only the prospect of breakinginto Umbridge's office and using her fire to speak to Siriusthat was making him feel nervous, though that wascertainly bad enough — today also happened to be the firsttime he would be in close proximity with Snape since Snapehad thrown him out of his office, as they had Potions thatday.
After lying in bed for a while thinking about the dayahead, Harry got up very quietly and moved across to thewindow beside Neville's bed, staring out on a truly gloriousmorning. The sky was a clear, misty, opalescent blue.Directly ahead of him, Harry could see the towering beechtree below which his father had once tormented Snape. Hewas not sure what Sirius could possibly say to him thatwould make up for what he had seen in the Pensieve, but hewas desperate to hear Sirius's own account of what hadhappened, to know of any mitigating factors there mighthave been, any excuse at all for his father's behavior. ...
Something caught Harry's attention: movement on theedge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry squinted into the sunand saw Hagrid emerging from between the trees. Heseemed to be limping. As Harry watched, Hagrid staggeredto the door of his cabin and disappeared inside it. Harrywatched the cabin for several minutes. Hagrid did notemerge again, but smoke furled from the chimney, soHagrid could not be so badly injured that he was unequal tostoking the fire. ...
Harry turned away from the window, headed back to histrunk, and started to dress.
With the prospect of forcing entry into Umbridge's officeahead, Harry had never expected the day to be a restfulone, but he had not reckoned on Hermione's almostcontinual attempts to dissuade him from what he wasplanning to do at five o'clock. For the first time ever, shewas at least as inattentive to Professor Binns in History ofMagic as Harry and Ron were, keeping up a stream ofwhispered admonitions that Harry tried very hard toignore.
"... and if she does catch you there, apart from beingexpelled, she'll be able to guess you've been talking toSnuffles and this time I expect she'll force you to drinkVeritaserum and answer her questions. ..."
"Hermione," said Ron in a low and indignant voice, "areyou going to stop telling Harry off and listen to Binns, or amI going to have to take notes instead?"
"You take notes for a change, it won't kill you!"
By the time they reached the dungeons, neither Harrynor Ron was speaking to Hermione any longer. Undeterred,she took advantage of their silence to maintain anuninterrupted flow of dire warnings, all uttered under herbreath in a vehement hiss that caused Seamus to waste fivewhole minutes checking his cauldron for leaks.
Snape, meanwhile, seemed to have decided to act asthough Harry were invisible. Harry was, of course, wellused to this tactic, as it was one of Uncle Vernon's favorites,and on the whole was grateful he had to suffer nothingworse. In fact, compared to what he usually had to endurefrom Snape in the way of taunts and snide remarks, hefound the new approach something of an improvement andwas pleased to find that when left well alone, he was able toconcoct an Invigoration Draught quite easily. At the end ofthe lesson he scooped some of the potion into a flask,corked it, and took it up to Snape's desk for marking,feeling that he might at last have scraped an E.
He had just turned away when he heard a smashingnoise; Malfoy gave a gleeful yell of laughter. Harry whippedaround again. His potion sample lay in pieces on the floor,and Snape was watching him with a look of gloatingpleasure.
"Whoops," he said softly. "Another zero, then, Potter ..."
Harry was too incensed to speak. He strode back to hiscauldron, intending to fill another flask and force Snape tomark it, but saw to his horror that the rest of the contentshad vanished.
"I'm sorry!" said Hermione with her hands over hermouth. "I'm really sorry, Harry, I thought you'd finished, so Icleared up!"
Harry could not bring himself to answer. When the bellrang he hurried out of the dungeon without a backwardglance and made sure that he found himself a seat betweenNeville and Seamus for lunch so that Hermione could notstart nagging him about using Umbridge's office again.
He was in such a bad mood by the time that he got toDivination that he had quite forgotten his careerappointment with Professor McGonagall, remembering onlywhen Ron asked him why he wasn't in her office. He hurtledback upstairs and arrived out of breath, only a few minuteslate.
"Sorry, Professor," he panted, as he closed the door. "Iforgot. ..."
"No matter, Potter," she said briskly, but as she spoke,somebody else sniffed from the corner. Harry lookedaround.
Professor Umbridge was sitting there, a clipboard on herknee, a fussy little pie-frill around her neck, and a small,horribly smug smile on her face.
"Sit down, Potter," said Professor McGonagall tersely. Herhands shook slightly as she shuffled the many pamphletslittering her desk.
Harry sat down with his back to Umbridge and did hisbest to pretend he could not hear the scratching of her quillon her clipboard.
"Well, Potter, this meeting is to talk over any career ideasyou might have, and to help you decide which subjects youshould continue into sixth and seventh years," saidProfessor McGonagall. "Have you had any thoughts aboutwhat you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?"
"Er," said Harry.
He was finding the scratching noise from behind him verydistracting.
"Yes?" Professor McGonagall prompted Harry.
"Well, I thought of, maybe, being an Auror," Harrymumbled.
"You'd need top grades for that," said ProfessorMcGonagall, extracting a small, dark leaflet from under themass on her desk and opening it. "They ask for a minimumof five N.E.W.T.s, and nothing under 'Exceeds Expectations'grade, I see. Then you would be required to undergo astringent series of character and aptitude tests at the Auroroffice. It's a difficult career path, Potter; they only take thebest. In fact, I don't think anybody has been taken on in thelast three years."
At this moment Professor Umbridge gave a very tinycough, as though she was trying to see how quietly shecould do it. Professor McGonagall ignored her.
"You'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, Isuppose?" she went on, talking a little more loudly thanbefore.
"Yes," said Harry. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, Isuppose?"
"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall crisply. "I wouldalso advise —"
Professor Umbridge gave another cough, a little moreaudible this time. Professor McGonagall closed her eyes fora moment, opened them again, and continued as thoughnothing had happened.
"I would also advise Transfiguration, because Aurorsfrequently need to Transfigure or Untransfigure in theirwork. And I ought to tell you now, Potter, that I do notaccept students into my N.E.W.T. classes unless they haveachieved 'Exceeds Expectations' or higher at OrdinaryWizarding Level. I'd say you're averaging 'Acceptable' atthe moment, so you'll need to put in some good hard workbefore the exams to stand a chance of continuing. Then youought to do Charms, always useful, and Potions. Yes, Potter,Potions," she added, with the merest flicker of a smile."Poisons and antidotes are essential study for Aurors. And Imust tell you that Professor Snape absolutely refuses totake students who get anything other than 'Outstanding' intheir O.W.L.s, so —"
Professor Umbridge gave her most pronounced coughyet.
"May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?" ProfessorMcGonagall asked curtly, without looking at ProfessorUmbridge.
"Oh no, thank you very much," said Umbridge, with thatsimpering laugh Harry hated so much. "I just wonderedwhether I could make the teensiest interruption, Minerva?"
"I daresay you'll find you can," said Professor McGonagallthrough tightly gritted teeth.
"I was just wondering whether Mr. Potter has quite thetemperament for an Auror?" said Professor Umbridgesweetly.
"Were you?" said Professor McGonagall haughtily. "Well,Potter," she continued, as though there had been nointerruption, "if you are serious in this ambition, I wouldadvise you to concentrate hard on bringing yourTransfiguration and Potions up to scratch. I see ProfessorFlitwick has graded you between Acceptable' and 'ExceedsExpectations' for the last two years, so your Charm workseems satisfactory; as for Defense Against the Dark Arts,your marks have been generally high, Professor Lupin inparticular thought you — are you quite sure you wouldn'tlike a cough drop, Dolores?"
"Oh, no need, thank you, Minerva," simpered ProfessorUmbridge, who had just coughed her loudest yet. "I wasjust concerned that you might not have Harry's most recentDefense Against the Dark Arts marks in front of you. I'mquite sure I slipped in a note ..."
"What, this thing?" said Professor McGonagall in a tone ofrevulsion, as she pulled a sheet of pink parchment frombetween the leaves of Harry's folder. She glanced down it,her eyebrows slightly raised, then placed it back into thefolder without comment.
"Yes, as I was saying, Potter, Professor Lupin thought youshowed a pronounced aptitude for the subject, andobviously for an Auror —"
"Did you not understand my note, Minerva?" askedProfessor Umbridge in honeyed tones, quite forgetting tocough.
"Of course I understood it," said Professor McGonagall,her teeth clenched so tightly that the words came out alittle muffled.
"Well, then, I am confused. ... I'm afraid I don't quiteunderstand how you can give Mr. Potter false hope that —"
"False hope?" repeated Professor McGonagall, stillrefusing to look round at Professor Umbridge. "He hasachieved high marks in all his Defense Against the DarkArts tests —"
"I'm terribly sorry to have to contradict you, Minerva, butas you will see from my note, Harry has been achieving verypoor results in his classes with me —"
"I should have made my meaning plainer," said ProfessorMcGonagall, turning at last to look Umbridge directly in theeyes. "He has achieved high marks in all Defense Againstthe Dark Arts tests set by a competent teacher."
Professor Umbridge's smile vanished as suddenly as alightbulb blowing. She sat back in her chair, turned a sheeton her clipboard, and began scribbling very fast indeed, herbulging eyes rolling from side to side. Professor McGonagallturned back to Harry, her thin nostrils flared, her eyesburning.
"Any questions, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry. "What sort of character and aptitudetests do the Ministry do on you, if you get enoughN.E.W.T.s?"
"Well, you'll need to demonstrate the ability to react wellto pressure and so forth," said Professor McGonagall,"perseverance and dedication, because Auror trainingtakes a further three years, not to mention very high skillsin practical defense. It will mean a lot more study even afteryou've left school, so unless you're prepared to —"
"I think you'll also find," said Umbridge, her voice verycold now, "that the Ministry looks into the records of thoseapplying to be Aurors. Their criminal records."
"— unless you're prepared to take even more exams afterHogwarts, you should really look at another —"
"— which means that this boy has as much chance ofbecoming an Auror as Dumbledore has of ever returning tothis school."
"A very good chance, then," said Professor McGonagall.
"Potter has a criminal record," said Umbridge loudly.
"Potter has been cleared of all charges," said ProfessorMcGonagall, even more loudly.
Professor Umbridge stood up. She was so short that thisdid not make a great deal of difference, but her fussy,simpering demeanor had given place to a hard fury thatmade her broad, flabby face look oddly sinister.
"Potter has no chance whatsoever of becoming an Auror!"
Professor McGonagall got to her feet too, and in her casethis was a much more impressive move. She towered overProfessor Umbridge.
"Potter," she said in ringing tones, "I will assist you tobecome an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coachyou nightly I will make sure you achieve the requiredresults!"
"The Minister of Magic will never employ Harry Potter!"said Umbridge, her voice rising furiously.
"There may well be a new Minister of Magic by the timePotter is ready to join!" shouted Professor McGonagall.
"Aha!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, pointing a stubbyfinger at McGonagall. "Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That'swhat you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You wantCornelius Fudge replaced by Albus Dumbledore! You thinkyou'll be where I am, don't you, Senior Undersecretary tothe Minister and headmistress to boot!"
"You are raving," said Professor McGonagall, superblydisdainful. "Potter, that concludes our career consultation."
Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and hurried out ofthe room, not daring to look at Umbridge. He could hearher and Professor McGonagall continuing to shout at eachother all the way back along the corridor.
Professor Umbridge was still breathing as though she hadjust run a race when she strode into their Defense Againstthe Dark Arts lesson that afternoon.
"I hope you've thought better of what you were planningto do, Harry," Hermione whispered, the moment they hadopened their books to chapter thirty-four ("Non-Retaliationand Negotiation"). "Umbridge looks like she's in a reallybad mood already. ..."
Every now and then Umbridge shot glowering looks atHarry, who kept his head down, staring at DefensiveMagical Theory, his eyes unfocused, thinking. ...
He could just imagine Professor McGonagall's reaction ifhe were caught trespassing in Professor Umbridge's officemere hours after she had vouched for him. ... There wasnothing to stop him simply going back to Gryffindor Towerand hoping that sometime during the next summer holidayhe would have a chance to ask Sirius about the scene hehad witnessed in the Pensieve. ... Nothing, except that thethought of taking this sensible course of action made himfeel as though a lead weight had dropped into his stomach.... And then there was the matter of Fred and George,whose diversion was already planned, not to mention theknife Sirius had given him, which was currently residing inhis schoolbag along with his father's old Invisibility Cloak. ...
But the fact remained that if he were caught ...
"Dumbledore sacrificed himself to keep you in school,Harry!" whispered Hermione, raising her book to hide herface from Umbridge. "And if you get thrown out today it willall have been for nothing!"
He could abandon the plan and simply learn to live withthe memory of what his father had done on a summer's daymore than twenty years ago. ...
And then he remembered Sirius in the fire upstairs in theGryffindor common room. ..."You're less like your fatherthan I thought. ... The risk would've been what made it funfor James. ..."
But did he want to be like his father anymore?
"Harry, don't do it, please don't do it!" Hermione said inanguished tones as the bell rang at the end of the class.
He did not answer; he did not know what to do. Ronseemed determined to give neither his opinion nor hisadvice. He would not look at Harry, though when Hermioneopened her mouth to try dissuading Harry some more, hesaid in a low voice, "Give it a rest, okay? He can make up hisown mind."
Harry's heart beat very fast as he left the classroom. Hewas halfway along the corridor outside when he heard theunmistakable sounds of a diversion going off in thedistance. There were screams and yells reverberating fromsomewhere above them. People exiting the classrooms allaround Harry were stopping in their tracks and looking upat the ceiling fearfully —
Then Umbridge came pelting out of her classroom as fastas her short legs would carry her. Pulling out her wand, shehurried off in the opposite direction: It was now or never.
"Harry — please!" said Hermione weakly.
But he had made up his mind — hitching his bag moresecurely onto his shoulder he set off at a run, weaving inand out of students now hurrying in the opposite direction,off to see what all the fuss was about in the east wing. ...
Harry reached the corridor where Umbridge's office wassituated and found it deserted. Dashing behind a large suitof armor whose helmet creaked around to watch him, hepulled open his bag, seized Sirius's knife, and donned theInvisibility Cloak. He then crept slowly and carefully backout from behind the suit of armor and along the corridoruntil he reached Umbridge's door.
He inserted the blade of the magical knife into the crackaround it and moved it gently up and down, then withdrewit. There was a tiny click, and the door swung open. Heducked inside the office, closed the door quickly behindhim, and looked around.
It was empty; nothing was moving except the horriblekittens on the plates continuing to frolic on the wall abovethe confiscated broomsticks.
Harry pulled off his cloak and, striding over to thefireplace, found what he was looking for within seconds: asmall box containing glittering Floo powder.
He crouched down in front of the empty grate, his handsshaking. He had never done this before, though he thoughthe knew how it must work. Sticking his head into thefireplace, he took a large pinch of powder and dropped itonto the logs stacked neatly beneath him. They exploded atonce into emerald-green flames.
"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!" Harry said loudlyand clearly.
It was one of the most curious sensations he had everexperienced; he had traveled by Floo powder before, ofcourse, but then it had been his entire body that had spunaround and around in the flames through the network ofWizarding fireplaces that stretched over the country: Thistime, his knees remained firm upon the cold floor ofUmbridge's office, and only his head hurtled through theemerald fire. ...
And then, abruptly as it had begun, the spinning stopped.Feeling rather sick and as though he was wearing anexceptionally hot muffler around his head, Harry openedhis eyes to find that he was looking up out of the kitchenfireplace at the long, wooden table, where a man sat poringover a piece of parchment.
"Sirius?"
The man jumped and looked around. It was not Sirius, butLupin.
"Harry!" he said, looking thoroughly shocked. "What areyou — what's happened, is everything all right?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "I just wondered — I mean, I justfancied a — a chat with Sirius."
"I'll call him," said Lupin, getting to his feet, still lookingperplexed. "He went upstairs to look for Kreacher, heseems to be hiding in the attic again. ..."
And Harry saw Lupin hurry out of the kitchen. Now hewas left with nothing to look at but the chair and table legs.He wondered why Sirius had never mentioned how veryuncomfortable it was to speak out of the fire — his kneeswere already objecting painfully to their prolonged contactwith Umbridge's hard stone floor.
Lupin returned with Sirius at his heels moments later.
"What is it?" said Sirius urgently, sweeping his long darkhair out of his eyes and dropping to the ground in front ofthe fire, so that he and Harry were on a level; Lupin kneltdown too, looking very concerned. "Are you all right? Doyou need help?"
"No," said Harry, "it's nothing like that. ... I just wanted totalk ... about my dad. ..."
They exchanged a look of great surprise, but Harry didnot have time to feel awkward or embarrassed; his kneeswere becoming sorer by the second, and he guessed thatfive minutes had already passed from the start of thediversion — George had only guaranteed him twenty. Hetherefore plunged immediately into the story of what hehad seen in the Pensieve.
When he had finished, neither Sirius nor Lupin spoke fora moment. Then Lupin said quietly, "I wouldn't like you tojudge your father on what you saw there, Harry. He wasonly fifteen —"
"I'm fifteen!" said Harry heatedly.
"Look, Harry," said Sirius placatingly, "James and Snapehated each other from the moment they set eyes on eachother, it was just one of those things, you can understandthat, can't you? I think James was everything Snape wantedto be — he was popular, he was good at Quidditch, good atpretty much everything. And Snape was just this littleoddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts and James— whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry —always hated the Dark Arts."
"Yeah," said Harry, "but he just attacked Snape for nogood reason, just because — well, just because you said youwere bored," he finished with a slightly apologetic note inhis voice.
"I'm not proud of it," said Sirius quickly.
Lupin looked sideways at Sirius and then said, "Look,Harry, what you've got to understand is that your fatherand Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did— everyone thought they were the height of cool — if theysometimes got a bit carried away —"
"If we were sometimes arrogant little berks, you mean,"said Sirius.
Lupin smiled.
"He kept messing up his hair," said Harry in a painedvoice.
Sirius and Lupin laughed.
"I'd forgotten he used to do that," said Siriusaffectionately.
"Was he playing with the Snitch?" said Lupin eagerly.
"Yeah," said Harry, watching uncomprehendingly asSirius and Lupin beamed reminiscently. "Well ... I thoughthe was a bit of an idiot."
"Of course he was a bit of an idiot!" said Sirius bracingly."We were all idiots! Well — not Moony so much," he saidfairly, looking at Lupin, but Lupin shook his head.
"Did I ever tell you to lay off Snape?" he said. "Did I everhave the guts to tell you I thought you were out of order?"
"Yeah, well," said Sirius, "you made us feel ashamed ofourselves sometimes. ... That was something. ..."
"And," said Harry doggedly, determined to say everythingthat was on his mind now he was here, "he kept lookingover at the girls by the lake, hoping they were watchinghim!"
"Oh, well, he always made a fool of himself whenever Lilywas around," said Sirius, shrugging. "He couldn't stophimself showing off whenever he got near her."
"How come she married him?" Harry asked miserably."She hated him!"
"Nah, she didn't," said Sirius.
"She started going out with him in seventh year," saidLupin.
"Once James had deflated his head a bit," said Sirius.«
"And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it," saidLupin.
"Even Snape?" said Harry.
"Well," said Lupin slowly, "Snape was a special case. Imean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James, so youcouldn't really expect James to take that lying down, couldyou?"
"And my mum was okay with that?"
"She didn't know too much about it, to tell you the truth,"said Sirius. "I mean, James didn't take Snape on dates withher and jinx him in front of her, did he?"
Sirius frowned at Harry, who was still lookingunconvinced.
"Look," he said, "your father was the best friend I everhad, and he was a good person. A lot of people are idiots atthe age of fifteen. He grew out of it."
"Yeah, okay," said Harry heavily. "I just never thought I'dfeel sorry for Snape.""Now you mention it," said Lupin, a faint crease betweenhis eyebrows, "how did Snape react when he found you'dseen all this?"
"He told me he'd never teach me Occlumency again," saidHarry indifferently, "like that's a big disappoint —"
"He WHAT?" shouted Sirius, causing Harry to jump andinhale a mouthful of ashes.
"Are you serious, Harry?" said Lupin quickly. "He'sstopped giving you lessons?"
"Yeah," said Harry, surprised at what he considered agreat overreaction. "But it's okay, I don't care, it's a bit of arelief to tell you the —"
"I'm coming up there to have a word with Snape!" saidSirius forcefully and he actually made to stand up, butLupin wrenched him back down again.
"If anyone's going to tell Snape it will be me!" he saidfirmly. "But Harry, first of all, you're to go back to Snapeand tell him that on no account is he to stop giving youlessons — when Dumbledore hears —"
"I can't tell him that, he'd kill me!" said Harry, outraged."You didn't see him when we got out of the Pensieve —"
"Harry, there is nothing so important as you learningOcclumency!" said Lupin sternly. "Do you understand me?Nothing!"
"Okay, okay," said Harry, thoroughly discomposed, not tomention annoyed. "I'll ... I'll try and say something to him.... But it won't be ..."
He fell silent. He could hear distant footsteps.
"Is that Kreacher coming downstairs?"
"No," said Sirius, glancing behind him. "It must besomebody your end ..."
Harry's heart skipped several beats.
"I'd better go!" he said hastily and he pulled his headbackward out of Grimmauld Place's fire. For a moment hishead seemed to be revolving on his shoulders, and then hefound himself kneeling in front of Umbridge's fire with hishead firmly back on, watching the emerald flames flickerand die.
"Quickly, quickly!" he heard a wheezy voice mutter rightoutside the office door. "Ah, she's left it open. ..."
Harry dived for the Invisibility Cloak and had justmanaged to pull it back over himself when Filch burst intothe office. He looked absolutely delighted about somethingand was talking to himself feverishly as he crossed theroom, pulled open a drawer in Umbridge's desk, and beganrifling through the papers inside it.
"Approval for Whipping ... Approval for Whipping ... I cando it at last. ... They've had it coming to them for years. ..."
He pulled out a piece of parchment, kissed it, thenshuffled rapidly back out of the door, clutching it to hischest.
Harry leapt to his feet and, making sure that he had hisbag and the Invisibility Cloak was completely covering him,he wrenched open the door and hurried out of the officeafter Filch, who was hobbling along faster than Harry hadever seen him go.
One landing down from Umbridge's office and Harrythought it was safe to become visible again; he pulled offthe cloak, shoved it in his bag and hurried onward. Therewas a great deal of shouting and movement coming fromthe entrance hall. He ran down the marble staircase andfound what looked like most of the school assembled there.
It was just like the night when Trelawney had beensacked. Students were standing all around the walls in agreat ring (some of them, Harry noticed, covered in asubstance that looked very like Stinksap); teachers andghosts were also in the crowd. Prominent among theonlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, whowere all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, andPeeves, who was bobbing overhead, gazed down upon Fredand George, who stood in the middle of the floor with theunmistakable look of two people who had just beencornered.
"So!" said Umbridge triumphantly, whom Harry realizedwas standing just a few stairs in front of him, once morelooking down upon her prey. "So ... you think it amusing toturn a school corridor into a swamp, do you?"
"Pretty amusing, yeah," said Fred, looking back up at herwithout the slightest sign of fear.
Filch elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost cryingwith happiness.
"I've got the form, Headmistress," he said hoarsely,waving the piece of parchment Harry had just seen himtake from her desk. "I've got the form and I've got thewhips waiting. ... Oh, let me do it now. ..."
"Very good, Argus," she said. "You two," she went on,gazing down at Fred and George, "are about to learn whathappens to wrongdoers in my school."
"You know what?" said Fred. "I don't think we are."
He turned to his twin.
"George," said Fred, "I think we've outgrown full-timeeducation."
"Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself," said Georgelightly.
"Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?"asked Fred.
"Definitely," said George.
And before Umbridge could say a word, they raised theirwands and said together, "Accio Brooms!"
Harry heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance.Looking to his left he ducked just in time — Fred andGeorge's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain andiron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to thewall, were hurtling along the corridor toward their owners.They turned left, streaked down the stairs, and stoppedsharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly onthe flagged stone floor.
"We won't be seeing you," Fred told Professor Umbridge,swinging his leg over his broomstick.
"Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch," said George,mounting his own.
Fred looked around at the assembled students, and at thesilent, watchful crowd.
"If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, asdemonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three,Diagon Alley — Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes," he said in aloud voice. "Our new premises!"
"Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swearthey're going to use our products to get rid of this old bat,"added George, pointing at Professor Umbridge.
"STOP THEM!" shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late. Asthe Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kickedoff from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the ironpeg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across thehall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.
"Give her hell from us, Peeves."
And Peeves, whom Harry had never seen take an orderfrom a student before, swept his belled hat from his headand sprang to a salute as Fred and George wheeled aboutto tumultuous applause from the students below and spedout of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.
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