“I don't think Wood is going to be happy with what'll happen in this chapter,” Cedric said.
“You're assuming that the defeat has to do with Quidditch,” Hermione said.
“That's kind of the only thing I can imagine having to do with a defeat when it comes to Harry,” Cedric said.
“That does make sense,” Luna said.
“So I'm most likely reading about the fact that I'll lose a Quidditch match, lucky me,” Harry said sarcastically.
“And, as the first match of the season is always against Slytherin,” Cedric pointed out. Harry frowned, looking disgruntled at the idea that he would lose to Malfoy of all people.
Professor Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.
“Of course we'd be confused,” Cedric said. “We're being told to go back to the Great hall, most likely with no hint of why.”
“That would most likely confuse anyone,” Luna said. “Though, I have the feeling that the Gryffindors will make sure to let the rest of us know what's going on.”
“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the Hall.
“That right there would probably panic some people, since needing to conduct a search of the castle could not be a good thing,” Hermione said.
“Very true,” Cedric said.
“I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge.”
“He's not leaving a teacher or adult,” Hermione said. She shook her head. “That's not good. While the older students might know some good spells, if Black's still in the castle, they're not going to be much good against him.”
“I get the feeling that not only are they going to be locked in, but that a teacher will be sent by every hour, to make sure things are okay,” Cedric said.
“Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately,’ he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. “Send word with one of the ghosts.”
“They'll definitely get to him quickly,” Harry said.
“Um, how are we going to sleep?” Hermione asked. “I mean, the floor is not going to be very comfortable if we have to sleep on just it. Plus, what we get cold?”
“I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore will think of something,” Cedric said.
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to the leave the Hall, and said, “Oh, yes, you’ll be needing ...”
One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the Hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
“See,” Cedric said. “Though, I do wish that he'd done a colour other than purple.”
“I think Purple is actually the best colour to have,” Luna said. “This way he's not favouring any of the houses, after all, since more of the colours that he could have chosen are related to one house or another.”
“True,” Cedric said.
“Wouldn't black be better, though?” Hermione asked. Cedric shook his head.
“It's the secondary colour for Hufflepuff,” he said. “The house colours are red and gold for Gryffindor, black and yellow for Hufflepuff, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw and green and sliver for Slytherin. To keep from favouring the houses, he'd have to pick a colour that isn't one of the house colous.”
“Sleep well,” said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.
The Hall immediately began to buzz excitedly;
“Knew that would happen,” Cedric said.
the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.
“Which will, of course, cause some interesting reactions among everyone,” Cedric said. “Most people will, of course, be horrified to learn of this fact.”
“Everyone into their sleeping bags!” shouted Percy.
“Awe, come on, let us talk to each other a bit more,” Cedric said.
“Come on now, no more talking!”
“No one's going to listen to that,” Cedric said.
“Lights out in ten minutes!”
“C’mon,” Ron said to Harry and Hermione; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.
“I take it you want some privacy to speak,” Luna said.
“Probably,” Harry said.
“Do you think Black’s still in the castle?” Hermione whispered anxiously.
“Probably not,” Cedric said. “I mean, he's insane and all, but I doubt he would have taken a chance of being caught.”
“Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be,” said Ron.
“Actually, it's probably a precaution,” Harry said. “I'm mean, we know that he does irresponsible thing a lot, but something like this, I can't see him not performing a search, mostly because of who Black is. If it got around that Black was in the castle and he didn't perform a search, I doubt he'd stay installed as the headmaster at Hogwarts.”
“That, and I'm sure that Professor McGonagall insisted on a search,” Luna said.
“It’s very lucky he picked tonight, you know,” said Hermione, as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags
“That's going to be rather interesting,” Hermione said.
and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. “The one night we weren’t in the Tower ...”
“Actually, thinking about it, I should be saying that it's lucky that the Fat Lady didn't let him through,” Hermione said. “Even though we're not in the tower, had she let him in, we could basically have gone to bed not knowing that he was there.”
“True, very true,” Cedric said.
“I reckon he’s lost track of time, being on the run,” said Ron.
“Well, that's not entirely true,” Hermione said. “He could have been nicking newspapers on the way there, after all.”
“Didn’t realise it was Halloween. Otherwise he’d have come bursting in here.”
“Eh, I don't think he's that crazy,” Luna said.
Hermione shuddered.
All around them, people were asking each other the same question: “How did he get in?”
“That is a good question,” Cedric said.
“I wonder...” Hermione started to say, thinking.
“What?” Harry asked.
“Well, we know that there are secret passages out of Hogwarts, right?” Hermione said. “I mean, Ron mentioned having you ask the twins about it, since they would know them all. Well, what if Black knows what some of these passages are?”
“That is a good question,” Luna said. “And it's not completely impossible, either. I mean, we have no idea what he was like in school. He could have been the type to explore.”
“Maybe he knows how to Apparate,” said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. “Just appear out of thin air, you know.”
“Can't Apparate in Hogwarts,” Cedric said. “Or, rather, human's can't do it. Elves, as we saw in the second book, can.”
“Disguised himself, probably,” said a Hufflepuff fifth-year.
“That would work, though how he could fool the Dementors, I don't know,” Cedric said.
“It's more likely that Hermione is right,” Harry said. “And he's using a secret passageway. He can just bypass the Dementors that way as well.”
“He could’ve flown in,” suggested Dean Thomas.
“That would not work, not without the Dementors noticing,” Luna said.
“Honestly, am I the only person who’s ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?” said Hermione crossly to Harry and Ron.
“I've read it,” Cedric said.
“I plan on reading it,” Luna said.
“Well, I haven't read it yet,” Hermione said. “Though I definitely do plan on reading it the first chance I get.”
“Probably,” said Ron.
“I would imagine that his brother Percy has read it,” Hermione said.
“I do believe he has,” Cedric said.
“Why?”
“The book does have some interesting things in it about Hogwarts that would be beneficial for people to know,” Cedric said. “I mean, if he bothered to read it, he would know why you asked that so crossly.”
“I take it that you know why I'm irritated,” Hermione said.
“Yes, I do,” Cedric said. However, he didn't elaborate, much to Hermione's disappointment.
“Because the castle’s protected by more than walls, you know,” said Hermione.
“Ah, I can see what's irritated me,” Hermione said.
“There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can’t just Apparate in here. And I’d like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They’re guarding every single entrance to the grounds.”
“Technically, that's not true, as the secret passageways could be considered as entrances to the grounds as well,” Cedric said.
“They’d have seen him fly in, too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they’ll have them covered ...”
“You have a lot of faith in Filch there,” Cedric said. “Particularly since you never mention about him having them covered when Harry and Ron are discussing how Harry could get out to Hogsmeade.”
“The lights are going out now!” Percy shouted. “I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!”
“Yeah, that last part will not be working,” Cedric said.
The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars.
“That sounds like you're sleeping outdoors,” Hermione said.
What with that, and the whispering that still filled the Hall, Harry felt as though he was sleeping out of doors in a light wind.
“My book self agrees with you,” Harry said.
Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep,
“Something tells me that none of your group is asleep,” Cedric said.
Professor Dumbledore came in. Harry watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking.
“He shouldn't be doing that,” Hermione said. “If you put a big group of people together, they're going to talk.”
Percy was only a short way away from Harry, Ron and Hermione, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore’s footsteps drew nearer.
“Yeah, best way to eavesdrop,” Hermione said.
“Any sign of him, Professor?” asked Percy in a whisper.
“No. All well here?”
“Everything under control, sir.”
“Other than the fact that people don't feel like going to sleep when he says to, of course,” Harry said.
“Good. There’s no point moving them all now.”
“I have the feeling that are not going to be happy to actually end up sleeping on the floor, since I doubt it's really all that comfortable,” Cedric said.
“I’ve found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole.”
“I wonder who it is,” Hermione said.
“You’ll be able to move them back in tomorrow.”
“And the Fat Lady, sir?”
“Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked.”
“That was probably scary for her,” Harry said.
“Can magical portraits be killed from a knife?” Hermione asked.
“Don't know, and I don't plan on testing it,” Cedric said.
“She’s still very distressed, but once she’s calmed down, I’ll have Mr Filch restore her.”
“Why does she have to calm down for him to restore her?” Harry asked.
“I don't know,” Cedric said.
Harry heard the door of the Hall creak open again, and more footsteps.
“I wonder which teacher this is,” Hermione said.
“Headmaster?” It was Snape.
“I wonder what he's coming to talk to Dumbledore about,” Luna said.
Harry kept quite still, listening hard. “The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either.”
“What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?”
“All searched ...”
“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”
“So the search was merely for precaution, then, as we suspected,” Hermione said.
“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?” asked Snape.
Harry raised his head very slightly off his arms to free his other ear.
“This is definitely something I wouldn't want to miss,” Harry said.
“Particularly since chances are that Snape is bringing it up for a reason,” Hermione said.
“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”
Harry opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood;
“Better hope they don't notice you doing that,” Luna said.
Dumbledore’s back was to him, but he could see Percy’s face, rapt with attention, and Snape’s profile, which looked angry.
“I wonder why he's looking angry,” Hermione said.
“Maybe it's because of the fact that Dumbledore isn't telling him any of his theories,” Cedric said.
“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before – ah – the start of term?” said Snape,
“Ah,” Cedric said. “He thinks that someone willingly helped Black into the castle.”
who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.
“And he probably knows that Dumbledore wouldn't appreciate whatever this conversation is,” Hermione said.
“Why would he think Professor Lupin would help Black into the castle?” Harry asked, adding when he notice the confused faces of the others, “Professor Lupin's the only new teacher there, and we know that he hates him, so I can see Snape talking about him. Plus, I don't think Snape would accuse any of the other teachers of doing this, either.”
“True,” Hermione said. “And maybe he just wants to believe the worst about Professor Lupin. I mean, we do already know that he hates him.”
“That could be it,” Harry said.
“I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.
“He doesn't want to hear it again,” Hermione said.
“It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help.”
“Unless Snape knows exactly how Black's mind works and what Black did in his spare time when he was at Hogwarts, he can't assume that Black is incapable of entering the castle one his own,” Hermione said.
“Why are you defending Black?” Harry asked.
“I'm not defending him, I'm defending Professor Lupin, since, as you pointed out, Snape is most likely accusing him of helping Black out,” Hermione said.
“I did express my concerns when you appointed –“
“And that right there kind of confirms that Snape is indeed talking about Professor Lupin,” Cedric said.
“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it,” said Dumbledore,
“Clearly Snape doesn't share that belief,” Harry said.
and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn’t reply.
“That must've been some tone,” Luna said.
“I must go down to the Dementors,” said Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”
“Yeah, he should keep his promise to them, particularly since he most likely wouldn't let them help him,” Cedric said.
“I doubt they would have been much help,” Hermione said. “Most likely, they would have distracted the teachers from the search.”
“Didn’t they want to help, sir?” said Percy.
“Oh yes,” said Dumbledore coldly. “But I’m afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster.”
“Why do I get the feeling that something's going to happen that'll it'll happen anyway, even if Dumbledore is the Headmaster?” Hermione said.
“Probably because if the Minister wants a Dementor to follow him into the castle, he'll have it,” Cedric said.
Percy looked slightly abashed.
“Yeah, he should have suspected that, since I don't think Dumbledore makes light of the fact that he does not like Dementors,” Luna said.
Dumbledore left the Hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the Headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face,
“He really hates the fact that he can't get rid of Lupin, doesn't he?” Harry said.
“Seems that way,” Hermione said.
then he, too, left.
Harry glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Both of them had their eyes open,
“Meaning that we were listening in as well,” Hermione said. “I wonder if we realized what was going on or not.” She didn't sound like she suspected that they did understand it, something that Cedric noticed.
“You don't sound like you have much faith in your book self,” he said.
“My book self, so far, does seem to have missed some information already, and done things that I don't agree with,” Hermione said. “Missing that they were talking about Professor Lupin isn't too far of a stretch for my book self.”
too, reflecting the starry ceiling.
“What was all that about?” Ron mouthed.
“Just that Snape is determined to get rid of Professor Lupin,” Harry said.
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days.
“Of course,” Cedric said. “He's news and something new that happened at Hogwarts, after all.”
The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who’d listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.
“I don't think that would really help him all that much if he could,” Hermione said.
The Fat Lady’s ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony.
“Ah, not him,” Harry said, frowning. “He's mental.”
“I guess we should have realized that he would have a bit of a bigger part in the book,” Hermione said. “Other than the Fat Lady, he's the only portrait that we really know the name of in the book.”
“True, we probably should have realized that,” Cedric said.
“Well, there's another reason to dislike Black,” Harry said. “He caused us to get stuck with a mental portrait.”
“Because simply disliking him for being a supporter of Riddle isn't enough,” Cedric said.
“Nope,” Harry said.
Nobody was very happy about this.
“So it won't be just us then,” Hermione said.
Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels,
“And how will he enact those duels?” Luna asked.
and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords,
“Which will be hard enough alone,” Hermione said. “Particularly to those who may have trouble remembering these ridiculous passwords.”
which he changed at least twice a day.
“Which would make it even harder,” Harry said, shaking his head. “They should have a rule on how a password could be set.”
“He’s barking mad,” said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. “Can’t we get anyone else?”
“Somehow, I think they did it on a volunteer method, meaning that it's probably impossible to get anyone else,” Hermione said.
“None of the other pictures wanted the job,” said Percy.
“Looks like you were right,” Harry said.
“Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer.”
“More like he's the only one mental enough to volunteer,” Harry said.
Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Harry’s worries. He was now being closely watched.
“Oh, that's going to be annoying,” Harry said.
Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him and Percy Weasley (acting, Harry suspected, on his mother’s orders) was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog.
“I don't need to be followed everywhere. I mean, I'm in a crowded area most of the time. Now, if I was in a sparsely crowded area, I could understand, but more often than not I'm probably mixed in with the other students at Hogwarts,” Harry said.
To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry into her office, with such a sombre expression on her face Harry thought someone must have died.
“I get the feeing that she's about to tell you about Black, which is something you already know,” Cedric said.
“Most likely,” Harry said. “Though, I get the feeling that there's more to it.”
“There’s no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter,” she said, in a very serious voice. “I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black –“
“Is thought to be after me,” Harry said. “Which doesn't shock me all that much since I've had some time to get used to it.”
“I know he’s after me,” said Harry wearily. “I heard Ron’s dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic.”
“That's probably going to shock her a bit, since I have the feeling that it's well known that people don't want you to know about it,” Hermione said.
Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at Harry for a moment or two, then said, “I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you’ll understand why I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be practising Quidditch in the evenings.”
“No,” Harry said. “That can't keep me prisoner, unable to do anything fun, can they?”
“They probably want to try,” Cedric said.
“Out on the pitch with only your team members, it’s very exposed, Potter –“
“That is something to be reasonably concerned about, but I do wonder how she expects Black to be able to get to you, unless he has his own broom. I mean, I don't think he has a wand on him at the moment,” Hermione said.
“He most likely doesn't,” Cedric said.
“We’ve got our first match on Saturday!” said Harry,
“Already?” Cedric said.
outraged. “I’ve got to train, Professor!”
“Not really. I mean, considering that your a natural at it, I don't see you having to train for any reason,” Cedric said. “Unless it's to dodge Bludgers.”
Professor McGonagall considered him intently. Harry knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team’s prospects; it had been she, after all, who’d suggested him as Seeker in the first place.
“She probably wants to win just as much as Wood, but, at the same time, she wants you safe,” Hermione said.
He waited, holding his breath.
'I hope that's figuratively, not literally,” Hermione said.
“Hmm ...” Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch pitch, just visible through the rain. “Well ... goodness knows, I’d like to see us win the Cup at last ... but all the same, Potter ... I’d be happier if a teacher were present. I’ll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions.”
“That should work,” Harry said. “Though, I would prefer if I didn't have to be watched.”
“Well, there's something that can also be blamed on Black,” Hermione said.
The weather worsened steadily as the first Quidditch match drew nearer.
“Why do I get the bad feeling that Malfoy's arm hasn't 'healed'?” Hermione said.
“Probably because it hasn't mentioned it being healed,” Harry said. “Why?”
“If it's not healed, then whose to say that the Slytherins, who most likely won't want to fight in this weather, won't take advantage of that, and request another team play against the Gryffindors,” Hermione said, a slight smile on her face as she thought of the implications of that with the chapter title.
“Then, chances are, we're playing another team,” Harry said, also smiling. “And, if the title has to do with losing at Quidditch as it's suspected, then I won't have lost to Malfoy, which, I can live with.”
Undaunted, the Gryffindor team were training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch.
“Well, at least we'll be used to the weather then,” Harry said.
“True,” Hermione said.
Then, at their final training session before Saturday’s match, Oliver Wood gave his team some unwelcome news.
“I guess, not knowing that we're going to be defeated means that he's upset about the fact that it's bad news that we're most likely not going to be playing Slytherin,” Harry said.
“We’re not playing Slytherin!” he told them, looking very angry. “Flint’s just been to see me. We’re playing Hufflepuff instead.”
“So you're book self will be playing against my house,” Cedric said.
“And your house is going to win against me,” Harry said. “That'll probably be something to tell people.”
“True, but until we know the details of the match and sub sequential defeat, I'd rather not say anything celebratory,” Cedric said.
“Why?” chorused the rest of the team.
“Flint’s excuse is that their Seeker’s arm’s still injured,” said Wood,
“Knew that would be the reason,” Hermione said, shaking her head at how predictable they were with that.
grinding his teeth furiously. “But it’s obvious why they’re doing it. Don’t want to play in this weather. Think it’ll damage their chances ...”
“That's funny,” Harry said. “They'd have better chances if they decided to play rather than not play.”
“They don't know that, though,” Cedric said.
“True,” Harry said.
There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Wood spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder.
“There’s nothing wrong with Malfoy’s arm!” said Harry furiously. “He’s faking it!”
“And everyone knows it, too,” Hermione said.
“I know that, but we can’t prove it,” said Wood bitterly.
“Unfortunately, though, I do think that, should this happen, we should give him a real reason to have a hurt arm,” Hermione said.
“And we’ve been practising all those moves assuming we’re playing Slytherin, and instead it’s Hufflepuff, and their style’s quite different.”
“He's beginning to worry himself,” Harry said.
“They’ve got a new captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory –“
“Apparently, I'm going to lose against you,” Harry said.
“Apparently I wasn't originally a Seeker,” Cedric said. “Though it's nice to know that I'll managed to get on the team after next year. You have to at least have one year of being on the house to be qualify for captain,” he explained, seeing the confused look on Harry's face on how he would know he'd get on the team the next year.
“What position are you going to try out for?” Hermione asked.
“I was thinking about the Keeper position, though it doesn't look as though we'll know if I actually got it or not,” Cedric said.
“Then that'll be something that we'll have to change this time around," Hermione said.
Angelina, Alicia and Katie suddenly giggled.
“Why are they giggling?” Cedric asked.
“Yeah, that's not going to make Wood happy,” Harry said.
“What?” said Wood, frowning at this light-hearted behaviour.
“See,” Harry said.
“He’s that tall, good-looking one, isn’t he?” said Angelina.
Cedric began to blush, while the other four giggled at his obvious embarrassment, though Hermione felt a hint of something at hearing Angelina obvious admiring words. She mentally shook away whatever it was, and turned to him.
“So we know that you are definitely considered handsome in the books,” Hermione said, smiling at him.
“Strong and silent,” said Katie, and they started to giggle again.
Cedric's face was now resembling a tomato, much to the amusement of the others.
“It's rather strange to be hearing compliments about your future self,” he said.
“He’s only silent because he’s too thick to string two words together,” said Fred impatiently.
“Hey,” Cedric said, sounding insulted.
“That uncalled for, and untrue,” Hermione said, looking as if she would hit Fred had he been in the room. Harry and Luna were a bit surprised at the quick defense from Hermione, as well as the look on her face. Cedric, however, was looking happy about the quick defense.
“I don’t know why you’re worried, Oliver, Hufflepuff are a pushover.”
“We are not,” Cedric said.
“Last time we played them, Harry caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?”
“That was in completely different conditions, though,” Hermione pointed out. “And under a different captain, too.”
“True,” Harry said.
“We were playing in completely different conditions!” Wood shouted,
“Even he knows that acting like the same thing could happen isn't something you should do,” Hermione said.
his eyes bulging slightly. “Diggory’s put a very strong side together! He’s an excellent Seeker!”
“That's a nice compliment from him,” Cedric said. “Though I don't think that fact makes him happy.”
“No, it probably doesn't,” Hermione said.
“I was afraid you’d take it like this! We mustn’t relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin are trying to wrong-foot us! We must win!”
“He's probably scaring the rest of the team,” Harry said. “I know he's scaring me right now, and I'm not even there.”
“Oliver, calm down!” said Fred, looking slightly alarmed.
“Seem he's alarming them more than scaring him,” Hermione said.
“We’re taking Hufflepuff very seriously. Seriously.”
“Guess he has to make sure Wood understands that,” Harry said.
The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever.
“The next day is just going to be horrible,” Harry said.
“If the weather doesn't change, yes it will be,” Hermione said.
It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit.
“Wow, that does sound dark,” Cedric said.
“I wonder if it's any warmer in Snape's classroom because of that,” Hermione said.
The Slytherin team were looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy.
“Of course,” Hermione said. “Though, I do have to wonder if they realize that, by not competing the next day, they're actually damaging their chances. I mean, by waiting for a day which would be convenient for them also is an advantage for you guys as well.”
“Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!” he sighed, as the gale outside pounded the windows.
“I wonder what would happen if he was permanently unable to use his arm,” Harry said.
Harry had no room in his head to worry about anything except the match next day. Oliver Wood kept hurrying up to him between classes and giving him tips.
“Well that would definitely make sure that you wouldn't be able to worry about anything but the match,” Hermione said. “He's keeping you from being able to think of anything else.”
The third time this happened, Wood talked for so long that Harry suddenly realised he was ten minutes late for Defence Against the Dark Arts,
“Somehow, I get the feeling that this DADA class is going to be mentioned in a more descriptive tone,” Harry said.
“Which means that there's something important about it,” Hermione said.
“At least I won't get in trouble, since I don't think Professor Lupin will get extremely mad at me,” Harry said.
and set off at a run with Wood shouting after him, “Diggory’s got a very fast swerve, Harry, so you might want to try looping him –“
“And he knows this how?” Hermione said. “Did he spy on you?”
“He probably saw one of my other games. I mean, since they don't change the schedule a whole lot, the previous year, I most likely did at least play against one of the other teams,” Cedric said. "Which most likely means that I was the Seeker instead of Keeper in the previous book. They must've not had a good selection of people willing to try out for the Seeker position."
Harry skidded to a halt outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open and dashed inside.
“Sorry I’m late, Professor Lupin, I –“
“Why'd you stop in your apology?” Hermione asked.
But it wasn’t Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher’s desk; it was Snape.
“This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we’ll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down.”
“You better listen to him,” Hermione said. “He'll just make it worse for you if you don't.”
But Harry didn’t move.
“Harry,” Luna said, shaking her head.
“Where’s Professor Lupin?” he said.
“Probably feels ill,” Cedric said. “It's not like Snape caused harm to him. At least, I don't think he did. Plus, I think Dumbledore would have made an announcement if something permanent had happened to Professor Lupin.”
“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” said Snape with a twisted smile.
“He's horrible,” Hermione said, knowing that his smile was because he liked the idea that Lupin wasn't feeling too good.
“I believe I told you to sit down?”
“Yes, he did, but I have the feeling that I'm not going to listen,” Harry said.
But Harry stayed where he was.
“See?” Harry pointed out.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“You were already told what's wrong,” Hermione said. “He's feeling ill. You're probably not going to get any more information other than that.”
Snape’s black eyes glittered.
“I don't think he's going to be patient much with you any more,” Hermione said.
“Nothing life-threatening,” he said, looking as though he wished it was. “Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty.”
“Please sit down,” Luna said, remembering what had happened the last time Harry had lost the house fifty points, and fearing the something like that might happen again.
Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.
“As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far –“
“Somehow, I seriously doubt that,” Harry said. “He's seems to efficient not to have planned out his classes, or have a note on what class is to focus on what.”
“Which means that, if what you just said is true, Snape has a plan on what he wants to do in the class himself,” Hermione said, looking puzzled at what that plan might be.
“But this, of course, is only if Harry is right,” Cedric said. “Though, Snape should ask someone in the class what they've already covered.”
“Which also suggests that he has something specific he want to teach us,” Hermione said.
“Please, sir, we’ve done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindylows,” said Hermione quickly,
“I don't think he cares to know,” Cedric said.”Nor will he appreciate it.”
“and we’re just about to start –“
“Be quiet,” said Snape coldly. “I did not ask for information.”
“See?” Cedric said.
“I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organisation.”
“Considering that we know you don't like him, I don't think we can trust you,” Harry said.
“He’s the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had,” said Dean Thomas boldly,
“Um, sadly, considering that he's really the only competent teacher you've had, I don't think that opinion can count all that much, though I'm sure that other classes can agree with it as well,” Cedric said, adding the last part rather hastily at the frown that crossed Harry's face. He really liked the way Professor Lupin sounded, and didn't like the idea that his opinion of him wouldn't be shared by others outside of his year.
and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.
“He doesn't like the fact that you all think that,” Luna said.
“You are easily satisfied.”
“I wouldn't say that you're easily satisfied,” Cedric said.
“Lupin is hardly over-taxing you – I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows.”
“Uh, what first years exactly, since you don't learn about dark creatures until third year,” Cedric said. “I asked my mum about it,” he added when he saw the questioning looks on their faces. “It was after my first year, and I wanted to know if there was a schedule that the DADA teacher was supposed to follow. She said there was, though the only part of that schedule was that third year dealt with dark creatures, while fifth and over dealt with the more serious curses.”
“Oh,” Hermione said. “So it's impossible for him to really be able to expect first years to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows.”
“Yes, it is,” Cedric said.
“Today we shall discuss –“
Harry watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn’t covered.
“He's definitely looking for something specific,” Luna said.
“– werewolves,” said Snape.
“Werewolves? But a subject like that isn't supposed to be talked about until nearing the end of school,” Cedric said.
“Why does he want us to learn about werewolves?” Harry asked. “That just, it doesn't make sense.”
Hermione, however, was thinking about what she knew about werewolves. While she was sure that most of her information was wrong – as it was taken from the Muggle media – there was still some of it that could be taken as truth. And the one she was thinking of was...
She gasped, remembering what Lupin's Boggart reminded her of. Was Lupin's a werewolf? Was that why Snape was so against him, because he didn't like the fact that a werewolf had the job he wanted? While the first one was probable – and only because of the Boggart moon evidence, though she could be wrong, and the fact that Snape was purposely making them learn about werewolves now instead of later – the second didn't make as much sense, unless Snape had something against Werewolves.
“Hermione?” Cedric asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. She looked around, realizing that all three of the other people in the room were staring at her. Apparently, without realizing it, she'd gotten their attention when she'd gasped.
“What is it?” Harry asked. She thought about telling them that it was nothing, because she wasn't completely sure of her theory, but then realized that there was a chance that Cedric and Luna might still know more about werewolves than she and Harry did, especially since they lived in the wizarding world.
“I think Professor Lupin might be a werewolf,” she said, as casually as she could. Luna's and Cedric's mouths dropped open.
“Why do you think that?” Harry asked.
“It's kind of stupid, but remember when we it mentioned what his Boggart was, how I said that it sounded like the moon? Well, between that and the fact that Snape purposely chose to have us learn about werewolves, and we know that he definitely hates Lupin, it just seems...” Hermione trailed off at that.
“It just seems like it's probably connected,” Cedric said. He was about to explain that he hoped not, because a werewolf was dangerous to be around, but stopped himself and thought about what they'd read so far, and it didn't really fit with what he'd been told about werewolves. Professor Lupin seemed to be beyond nice, at least, towards Harry and the Gryffindors. And, while he had to admit that Hermione had a point, he couldn't see the Headmaster appointing someone who was a werewolf – at least, that was what he thought until he remembered that Dumbledore didn't have the same ideas that everyone else did. It was entire possible that he had. And, well, if he was honest, being told something didn't mean that it was true.
“If it was a full moon the night before, then that also might explain why Professor Lupin is ill,” Luna said. “The effects changing has on their body is supposed to be painful.”
“So you really think that Lupin might be a werewolf?” Cedric asked.
“Yes,” Hermione said. Cedric nodded, deciding that he'd reserve his opinion about the matter, since he kind of did trust Hermione's deduction. It was just too much of a coincidence that Professor Lupin would have a Boggart that could be a moon and have the teacher that hates him seem determined to make a class learn about werewolves.
“But, sir,” said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself,
“I don't think it's right that he just chooses for us to learn about something that we're no where near close to learning about,” Hermione said.
“I don't think it's right either,” Cedric said. “And I'm kind of glad that, chances are, your going to be the only class that has him.”
“Why do you say that?” Harry asked.
“Well he's got Potion classes to host, doesn't he? Just because he's the substitute for your class doesn't mean that he can skip out on his actual subject,” Cedric said. “The only reason why he's even there is because he most likely has a free period at that time, and so he was able to take the class.”
“Is that how the substitute deal works?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” Cedric said. “I've yet to see anyone new just be there for a day when a teacher is unable to teach her class. Plus, Professor Sprout last year – not the books last year, but mine – got sick, and my class period was taken over by Professor McGonagall – though we didn't really do anything but read – but I know that Professor Flitwick had one of the upper years class that day as well.”
“So he's just trying to get out class ahead, and make it seem like were dumb for not already being near the section,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Cedric said.
“Wait, but in the previous book -” Harry started to say.
“She cancelled the class,” Cedric said, knowing that Harry was going to bring up the cancelled Herbology class he'd had. “She wasn't sick, she simply didn't trust anyone with the job because of how important it was that the Mandrakes get done properly. There is a difference between actively cancelling a class and being too sick to teach said class.”
“Oh,” Harry said.
“we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start Hinkypunks –“
“Miss Granger,” said Snape, in a voice of deadly calm, “I was under the impression that I was taking this lesson, not you.”
“She's probably teach it better than you would,” Harry said.
“I get the felling you should just keep quiet the rest of the class, Hermione,” Cedric said.
“Somehow, I don't think I will,” Hermione said.
“Which will most likely result in you getting hurt,” Luna said. “After all, Snape definitely is vindictive enough to verbally abuse you.”
“And I am telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four.” He glanced around again. “All of you! Now!”
With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.
“It's a good think that he can't give you homework for this class, since it's not his regular class,” Cedric said. "After all, since he's most likely not sticking to the actual schedule, he doesn't have a right to give you homework for the class. Now, if he was sticking to a schedule, then anything on that schedule has ot be followed."
“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” said Snape.
“I have a feeling that no ones going to know, and he's going to insult every single one of you because of it,” Cedric said.
“I'll probably know, since I've most likely read ahead,” Hermione said.
“True,” Cedric said. “I should have said that almost everyone won't know, and he'll just ignore you.”
Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.
“Anyone?” Snape said,
“Yeah, Hermione does,” Harry said.
ignoring Hermione.
“I really wish he wasn't there,” Hermione said.
His twisted smile was back. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between –“
“Ah, no because we haven't gotten as far as werewolves yet,” Harry said.
“We told you,” said Parvati suddenly, “we haven’t got as far as werewolves yet, we’re still on –“
“Hinkypunks, I believe Hermione mentioned earlier,” Cedric said.
“She did,” Harry said.
“Silence!” snarled Snape.
“He looks pretty incompetent, doesn't he? Unable to bear being told that his right to insult you isn't right to do,” Cedric said.
“Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognise a werewolf when they saw one.”
“Just wait until the end of the year, then they'll be about to do so,” Cedric said, rolling his eyes at Snape's antics. “And I have a feeling that his insults towards you are because this class seems to hold on Gryffindors – after all, I can say right now that he probably wouldn't be insulting the Slytherins if they were a part of it, now would he? And, chances are, the Slytherins just might not know the answer to his question either.”
“I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are ...”
“He won't do that,” Harry said. “I'm sure that Dumbledore would know that we're not supposed to know about werewolves at this point in time, plus, if Hermione is right about what Professor Lupin is, then it's possible that Dumbledore would get angry to know that Snape purposely gave a class about them.”
“Please, sir,” said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf –“
“And here comes the verbal abuse towards you,” Luna said.
“That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” said Snape coolly. “Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.”
“If he didn't want the question answered, then he shouldn't have asked it,” Hermione said coldly.
Hermione went very red, put down her hand and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears.
“Why can't Dumbledore get rid of this useless bastard?” Harry asked. Hermione didn't bother calling him out on his language – in fact, she wanted to call him that, and much more.
“I don't know,” Cedric said.
“What I want to know is does he do anything about the students who complain about Snape, or does he just ignore them?” Hermione said.
“Probably the latter,” Luna said
It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once,
“Which is rather rude to do,” Cedric said. “Just because she actual likes learning doesn't mean it's okay to call her that.”
“No, they probably do that because I probably shove what I know in their faces a lot,” Hermione said. “Like in classes and stuff. Always answering questions as I do, and not giving anyone else a chance to do so. It probably doesn't make me popular to any of them.” Which is why I'm definitely taking Luna's advice she thought to herself. What Luna had said before was true – she should give others a chance to answer and not be so disappointed when she didn't get to answer a question.
and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, “You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don’t want to be told?”
“That's going to get him into trouble,” Cedric said.
The class knew instantly he’d gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.
“It's like were waiting for something horrible to happen,” Harry said.
“In a way, we kind of are,” Hermione said.
“Detention, Weasley,” Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron’s. “And if I ever hear you criticise the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed.”
“I wonder what Snape would do if Mrs. Weasley found out that he was threatening her son,” Hermione said.
“We'd probably need a new potions teacher if that happened,” Luna said, grinning at the idea of setting Mrs. Weasley on Snape. Then, her grinned faded. “However, there is a good chance that she wouldn't believe it.”
"True," Cedric said. "After all, since it wouldn't be coming from her precious Percy's mouth, it has to be a lie."
No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.
“Which is just going to nothing more than him criticising it,” Cedric said.
“Very poorly explained ... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia ...”
“Wrong,” Luna said. “The Kappa is a Japanese water-demon, and is found more commonly in Japan.”
“Which probably means that the person he was criticising most likely wrote that,” Cedric said.
“Most likely,” Hermione agreed.
“Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn’t have given it three ...”
“Which most likely means that it deserves the eight out of ten score that it was given,” Hermione said. “Particularly since I don't believe that Snape would grade it fairly, even if it held all the information he was looking for. After all, the paper was most likely written by a Gryffindor.”
When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.
“What's he going to do? He, by school rules, can't give you homework, after all,” Cedric said.
“Why not?” Harry asked.
“Most likely because it's not only his class, but because of the fact that this period of the class is the only one that he's teaching,” Hermione said. “It wouldn't be fair to make you have to do homework, but have no other class do it, after all.”
“Exactly,” Cedric said.
"Cedric mentioned it before," Luna murmured to Harry, who had been confused at the fact that Hermione had answered.
“Of course, this doesn't mean that he won't try to do it,” Hermione added.
“You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning.”
“See?” Hermione said.
“I would suggest you just ignore the instructions, since he has no right to demand anything from you,” Cedric said.
“I probably won't do that,” Hermione said.
“Which means that, if Professor Lupin is a werewolf, your book self will know soon,” Luna said.
“It is time somebody took this class in hand.”
“Not your class, so you have no say in the matter,” Harry said.
“Besides, Professor Lupin has been doing quite well in that regard,” Hermione said
“Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention.”
Harry and Hermione left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.
“Good idea, to wait until he was out of earshot,” Cedric said.
“Snape’s never been like this with any of our other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job,” Harry said to Hermione.
“Your book self is just noticing this, even after seeing the look of loathing on Snape's face?” Hermione said, looking rather incredulous at him.
“I know,” Harry said, shaking his head. “How I could miss any of the signs that Snape hates Professor Lupin, I do not know.”
“Why’s he got it in for Lupin? D’you think this is all because of the Boggart?”
“No, it has to be deeper than that,” Hermione said.
“Snape could be prejudice against werewolves,” Cedric said. “Most of the wizarding world is.”
“I don’t know,” said Hermione pensively. “But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon ...”
“So do we,” the four reading said.
Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.
“D’you know what that –“ (he called Snape something that made Hermione say “Ron!”)
“So it's not just to me that you scold for saying inappropriate words,” Cedric said. Hermione blushed a bit.
“No, it seems that it's not just you,” Hermione said, knowing why he was saying that. “I'll try not to do it to you, or anyone in this room, any more, though.”
“Thanks,” he said, not mentioning that he kind of already figured that, since she hadn't tried to scold Harry for his language.
“– is making me do? I’ve got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!” He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched.
“He's got some anger problems, doesn't he?” Hermione noted.
“Why couldn’t Black have hidden in Snape’s office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!”
“I hate to admit it, but I kind of agree with Ron. I know it's wrong to wish death on someone, but with the way Snape is, being seriously maimed would make me happy,” Harry said.
“Agreed,” Cedric said.
“I think it would just be better of Black to do something that would harm him enough to get him out of Hogwarts for several years,” Hermione said.
Harry woke extremely early next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him, then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright – Peeves the poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear.
“How annoying,” Harry said.
“Wait, he can get into the dormitories?” Hermione asked.
“Yup,” Cedric said. “Unless, of course, you do spells that'll make it so that he can't bug you.”
“What did you do that for?” said Harry furiously.
“Because he could,” Cedric said.
Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard and zoomed backwards out of the room, cackling.
Harry fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now he was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest.
“Yeah, I can see why your having trouble going to back to sleep,” Hermione said.
In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch pitch, battling through that gale. Finally he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand and walked quietly out of the dormitory.
As Harry opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail, and drag him outside.
“He's trying to get at Scabbers again,” Hermione said. “And how dare you grab him by the tail and pull it.” She scowled at Harry, who shrunk lightly underneath her glare.
“You know, I reckon Ron was right about you,” Harry told Crookshanks suspiciously.
“Not you too,” Hermione said.
“There are plenty of mice around this place, go and chase them. Go on,” he added, nudging Crookshanks down the spiral staircase with his foot, “leave Scabbers alone.”
“He'll probably try again later,” Cedric said.
“True,” Harry said.
The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harry knew better than to think the match would be cancelled; Quidditch matches weren’t called off for trifles such as thunderstorms.
“They really should, though,” Hermione said. “Someone could get seriously hurt.”
Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth-year and a lot bigger than Harry,
Hermione and Luna looked between the two of them.
“That is true,” Hermione said.
“Very,” Luna agreed.
“I can just imagine how much bugger he is in two years,” Hermione said.
Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory’s weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course.
“That's probably very true as well,” Harry said.
Harry whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Crookshanks sneaking up the boys’ staircase again.
“I don't think that Crookshanks can open the door, Harry,” Hermione said.
“I'd rather him not sneak past the others,” Harry said. “Besides, you just know that Ron will complain if he does.”
At long last Harry thought it must be time for breakfast, so he headed through the portrait hole alone.
“Stand and fight, you mangy cur!” yelled Sir Cadogan.
"Oh, shut up,” Luna said.
“Oh, shut up,” Harry yawned.
“You think like Harry, Luna,” Hermione said.
"I think anyone would," Luna said.
He revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time he’d started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up.
“It’s going to be a tough one,” said Wood, who wasn’t eating anything.
“Stop worrying, Oliver,” said Alicia soothingly, “we don’t mind a bit of rain.”
“I think it's more than a bit of rain,” Hermione said.
But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. Just before he entered the changing room, Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle laughing and pointing at him from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium.
“You know, I have the feeling that he won't be laughing when it comes time for his team to face the Gryffindor one,” Harry said.
“No, he probably won't,” Cedric said.
The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood’s usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn’t come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.
The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the pitch.
“Yeah, they definitely should cancel the match,” Hermione said.
If the crowd was cheering they couldn’t hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was splattering over Harry’s glasses. How on earth was he going to see the Snitch in this?
“I wonder if Hermione will come through for you, since she'll most likely know a spell to help you,” Luna said.
The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the pitch, wearing canary-yellow robes. The captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Harry saw Madam Hooch’s mouth form the words, “Mount your brooms.” He pulled his right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant – they were off.
Harry rose fast, but his Nimbus was swerving slightly with the wind. He held it as steady as he could and turned, squinting into the rain.
“It's going to be hard to see the Snitch in this weather,” Harry said.
"It's going to be hard for you to steer in this whether," Hermione said.
Within five minutes Harry was soaked to his skin and frozen, hardly able to see his team-mates, let alone the tiny Snitch. He flew backwards and forwards across the pitch, past blurred red and yellow shapes, with no idea of what was happening in the rest of the game. He couldn’t hear the commentary over the wind. The crowd was hidden beneath a sea of cloaks and battered umbrellas. Twice Harry came very close to being unseated by a Bludger; his vision was so clouded by the rain on his glasses he hadn’t seen them coming.
“I probably should have asked you to do something about them before the game started,” Harry said to Hermione.
He lost track of time. It was getting harder and harder to hold his broom straight. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early. Twice Harry nearly hit another player, without knowing whether it was a team-mate or opponent; everyone was now so wet, and the rain so thick, he could hardly tell them apart …
“That's not good,” Cedric said. “If you can't see whose who, then you might end up harming a team-mate.”
With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle; Harry could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing him to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.
“I called for time out!” Wood roared at his team. “Come on, under here –“
They huddled at the edge of the pitch under a large umbrella; Harry took off his glasses and wiped them hurriedly on his robes.
“I don't think that's going to do you any good, Harry,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, your robes are just as wet as they are,” Luna said.
“What’s the score?”
“We’re fifty points up,” said Wood,
“So Gryffindors winning right now,” Cedric said.
“but unless we get the Snitch soon, we’ll be playing into the night.”
“I’ve got no chance with these on,” Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses.
“But I've also got no chance with them off either,” Harry said, knowing that his vision was bad.
At that very moment, Hermione appeared at his shoulder; she was holding her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming.
“Yeah, that would probably really confuse me,” Harry said.
“I’ve had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!”
He handed them to her and, as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, “Impervius!”
“There!” she said, handing them back to Harry. “They’ll repel water!”
“You're a lifesaver to my book self,” Harry said. Hermione beamed at him.
Wood looked as though he could have kissed her.
Hermione looked faintly disturbed at that.
“Brilliant!” he called hoarsely after her, as she disappeared into the crowd. “OK, team, let’s go for it!”
Hermione’s spell had done the trick. Harry was still numb with cold, still wetter than he’d ever been in his life, but he could see.
“Yes, that's what I need,” Harry said.
Full of fresh determination, he urged his broom through the turbulent air, staring in every direction for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Diggory, who was streaking in the opposite direction ...
There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harry needed to get the Snitch quickly –
“Yes, it does need to be catch quickly,” Hermione said.
He turned, intending to head back towards the middle of the pitch, but at that moment, another flash of lightning illuminated the stands, and Harry saw something that distracted him completely: the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in the topmost, empty row of seats.
“Okay, that's weird,” Harry said.
“Very,” Hermione agreed.
“You shouldn't let it distract you,” Luna said.
Harry’s numb hands slipped on the broom handle and his Nimbus dropped a few feet. Shaking his sodden fringe out of his eyes, he squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished.
“Harry!” came Wood’s anguished yell from the Gryffindor goalposts. “Harry, behind you!”
Harry looked wildly around. Cedric Diggory was pelting up the pitch, and a tiny speck of gold was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them …
“Finally, it's been found,” Hermione said. “Now the game will end, hopefully.”
With a jolt of panic, Harry threw himself flat to the broom handle and zoomed towards the Snitch.
“Come on!” he growled at his Nimbus, as the rain whipped his face. “Faster!”
But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Harry had gone suddenly deaf – what was going on?
“What the...” Harry started to say.
And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the pitch below …
“Oh no,” Harry said, paling as the other three did the same thing.
Before he’d had time to think, Harry had taken his eyes off the Snitch and looked down.
“Don't do that,” Hermione moaned.
At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing below. It was as though freezing water was rising in his chest, cutting at his insides. And then he heard it again ... someone was screaming, screaming inside his head ... a woman …
“Why do you hear someone screaming when around them?” Cedric asked.
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”
Harry inhaled sharply, eyes flicking down to the next few lines.
“Mum?” he murmured, eyes wide as the words, both from what he just read allowed and what he'd just skimmed over. The other's looked at him, their own eyes wide as well upon hearing the words spoken by him, from the book and otherwise. He seemed frozen, and Luna wrapped her arms around him as his eyes began to shine with tears, though he didn't cry.
“Do you think you can finish the chapter?” she asked after a few minutes of silence. He shook his head, handing the book over to Luna, who noticed that there were a few more lines of dialogue from the voice Harry suspected to be his mother, as well of at least one line from Riddle – at least, that's who she suspected it to be. Luna cleared her throat to take up where he left off.
“Stand aside, you silly girl ... stand aside, now ...”
He really did mean it when he said she didn't have to die Hermione thought to herself, figuring out rather quickly who that voice was, and remembering what Riddle had said in the first book about Harry's mother. I wonder if...
“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead –“
At that, Harry let out strangled sound as several tears escaped his eyes. To hear his mother so determined to keep him safe...
Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Harry’s brain ... What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her ... she was going to die ... she was going to be murdered …
Harry let out a humourless chuckle. It was already too late for him to help her; she was already dead.
He was falling, falling through the icy mist.
“Not Harry. Please ... have mercy ... have mercy ...”
That creature is incapable of mercy thought Cedric.
A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Harry knew no more.
“Please let Harry be all right,” Hermione whispered underneath her breath, leaning against Cedric as her own tears that the torment that Harry just went through, both in the book and the boy sitting across from her, had caused.
“Lucky the ground was so soft.”
“I thought he was dead for sure.”
“But he didn’t even break his glasses.”
“It seems you'll be find physically,” Cedric said softly.
Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn’t have a clue where he was, or how he’d got there, or what he’d been doing before he got there.
“You're probably in the hospital wing,” Hermione said, equally soft.
All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.
“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Scariest ... the scariest thing ... hooded black figures ... cold ... screaming …
“Seems I'm remembering what just happened,” Harry said, wiping away the tears that had streamed down his face. He didn't want to dwell on what he'd just heard at the moment, feeling that they needed to at least get through the chapter.
Harry’s eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron and Hermione were also there, looking as though they’d just climbed out of a swimming pool.
“Might as well have done that,” Hermione said.
“Harry!” said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath the mud.
“He was probably extremely worried about you,” Cedric said.
“How’re you feeling?”
It was as though Harry’s memory was on fast forward. The lightning ... the Grim ... the Snitch ... and the Dementors ...
“What happened?” he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.
“We probably weren't expecting that to happen,” Hermione said.
“You fell off,” said Fred. “Must’ve been – what – fifty feet?”
“We thought you’d died,” said Alicia, who was shaking.
Hermione made a small, squeaky noise.
“I don't think I liked hearing that,” Hermione said.
Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.
“That probably scared you badly,” Cedric said.
“But the match,” said Harry.
“Who cares about the bloody match?” Cedric said, shaking his head.
“What happened? Are we having a replay?”
No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Harry like a stone.
“We didn’t – lose?”
“I already know we lose, thanks to the title,” Harry said.
“Diggory got the Snitch,” said George. “Just after you fell. He didn’t realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match.”
“It should be a re-match,” Cedric said. “The Dementors interfered with the game.”
“No,” Harry said. “You got it fair and square.”
“But they won fair and square ... even Wood admits it.”
“See, I'm not the only one who thinks that,” Harry said.
“Where is Wood?” said Harry, suddenly realising he wasn’t there.
“Still in the showers,” said Fred. “We think he’s trying to drown himself.”
“He better not be mad at you because of something that you can't control,” Hermione said, scowling as if she wanted to hit Wood if he was.
Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.
“C’mon, Harry, you’ve never missed the Snitch before.”
“There had to be one time you didn’t get it,” said George.
“That's true,” Harry said. “I can't always win.”
“And it doesn't mean that your out of the running, either,” Cedric said. “So long as you win your next two matches, and my team loses them, you'll win the Quidditch cup.”
“It’s not over yet,” said Fred. “We lost by a hundred points, right?”
“So the Gryffindor team was the only team that scored,” Hermione said.
“Seems that way,” Cedric said.
“So if Hufflepuff lose to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin ...”
“Hufflepuff’ll have to lose by at least two hundred points,” said George.
“But if they beat Ravenclaw ...”
“No way, Ravenclaw are too good. But if Slytherin lose against Hufflepuff ...”
“It all depends on the points – a margin of a hundred either way –“
“That's not easy to follow, is it,” Hermione said.
“No, not really,” Cedric said.
Harry lay there, not saying a word. They had lost ... for the first time ever, he had lost a Quidditch match.
“It wasn't your fault,” Cedric said.
“Yeah, it was the Dementors fault,” Luna said.
After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.
“We’ll come and see you later,” Fred told him. “Don’t beat yourself up, Harry, you’re still the best Seeker we’ve ever had.”
“I'll probably still beat myself up anyway,” Harry said, sighing a bit.
“That's true,” Hermione said.
The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving.
“I wonder what exactly is irritating her,” Cedric said.
Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry’s bed.
“Dumbledore was really angry,” Hermione said in a quaking voice.
“He was there?” Harry asked.
“Seems so,” Hermione said.
“I wonder if he suspected that there would be trouble. I mean, in the last book where he was at a match, it was because it was suspected there might be trouble,” Cedric said.
“True, though, I do have to wonder why he did that when not doing so would have let us know that we were wrong about Snape trying to kill Harry,” Hermione said.
“That is a good question,” Luna said.
“I’ve never seen him like that before. He ran onto the pitch as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium straight away ... he was furious they’d come into the grounds, we heard him –“
“Considering that there not supposed to be on the grounds, I think it's understandable,” Cedric said.
“Which makes me wonder why they did come onto the grounds,” Harry said.
“Then he magicked you onto a stretcher,” said Ron. “And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were ...”
“Everyone thought I was dead, even though I didn't really suffer from any injury other than whatever it was that the Dementors do,” Harry said.
“Yup,” Hermione said. “That's most likely it.”
His voice faded away, but Harry hardly noticed. He was thinking about what the Dementors had done to him ... about the screaming voice.
“Please don't dwell on that,” Luna said quietly. “It'll drive you mad if you do.” Like that mirror Luna thought to herself.
He looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at him so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.
“My broom, what happened to it?” Harry asked, realizing that it was most likely the next question his book self was going to say.
“Did someone get my Nimbus?”
Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other.
“I think that's a no,” Hermione said.
“That, or something bad happened to it,” Cedric said.
“Er –“
“It looks like your not sure of what to say,” Luna said.
“What?” said Harry, looking from one to the other.
“Well ... when you fell off, it got blown away,” said Hermione hesitantly.
“You're being rather careful not to say where it got blown off to,” Harry noted. “It must be bad, then.”
“And?”
“And it hit – it hit – oh, Harry – it hit the Whomping Willow.”
“Oh, no,” Harry said.
“Looks like you're going to need a new broom,” Cedric said.
“Hey, at least now you have a reason to get the Firebolt,” Luna said. Harry gave her a small smile at that.
Harry’s insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree which stood alone in the middle of the grounds.
“And?” he said, dreading the answer.
“I think you already know the answer,” Hermione said.
“Well, you know the Whomping Willow,” said Ron. “It – it doesn’t like being hit.”
“That's a bit of an understatement,” Harry said. “It hates to be hit.”
“Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came round,” said Hermione in a very small voice.
“So I'll have the pieces with me,” Harry said.
Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside-down and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry’s faithful, finally beaten broomstick.
“I find it rather odd that, upon you being beaten, your broom suffers the same fate,” Luna said. “Oh, and that's the end of the chapter as well.”
Hermione reached out for the book, but Luna placed a book mark in it, look at Harry before standing up.
“We'll be a few minutes,” she said, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling him with her. She dragged him with her to the kitchen, where he took a seat while looking at her warily, unsure as to why she'd dragged him off.
“Are you okay?” she asked. He realized what it was that she'd dragged him off for, and thought about lying for a second, but then realized that she wouldn't appreciate it.
“Not really,” Harry said. “I mean, I've always wanted to hear about my parents, and I've wished to know what their voices sounded like, but...but that's not how I imagined it happening. And, honestly, I rather never hear my mother's voice if that's what I'll be hearing. I'd probably be more affected, of course, had we not just been reading it, but if it actually had been her real voice.”
Luna nodded, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug. He stiffened a bit, not having expected it, then relaxed, hugging her back.
“So, should we get back to the others?” he said after a few minutes of just being hugged.
“Yeah, we probably should,” Luna said, and the two walked back to the reading room. Hermione, who had grabbed the book when Luna set it down, waited until they were seated before opening, going straight to the next chapter.