Waking up the next morning occurred between eight o'clock and eight ten. Luna and Hermione both woke up earlier than the boys, taking showers as was the habit of the two of them before dressing. When the boys woke up, they did the same thing, and then ate something. Once they were done, at eight twenty, the doors unlocked.
“Time to see what the next chapter is,” Harry said.
“I hope that it's interesting,” Cedric added, mostly because he was going to be the one to read it.
The girls met up with the two, said hello, and headed back to the reading room, where they all settled down. Cedric picked up the book then, turning it to the bookmark that Hermione had placed in it the night before.
“Mad-Eye Moody,” Cedric read.
“He gets his own chapter,” Hermione said.
“It's probably our first lesson with him, then,” Harry said.
“Most likely,” Hermione agreed. Considering that the last few times a chapter focused on a teacher – whether by name or my profession – had been about their first lesson with them, it made sense to think that.
“So we'll be able to see how it is with him,” Cedric said. “Nice.”
“With who he is, it is bound to be an interesting lesson,” Luna said.
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter grey swirled overhead as Harry, Ron and Hermione examined their new timetables at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of ageing themselves and bluffing their way into the Triwizard Tournament.
“Which will probably be ineffective, no matter what they decide,” Hermione said.
“Today’s not bad ... outside all morning,” said Ron, who was running his finger down his timetable, “Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures ... damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins ...”
“Once who you're in the class with is decided, you don't get to change who is in your class with you,” Cedric said. “I don't know why he thought it would change.”
“Yeah, the fact that the classes of who you're with have stayed the same should have told him that it would do that for the elective classes as well,” Harry said.
“Double Divination this afternoon,” Harry groaned, looking down. Divination was his least favourite subject, apart from Potions.
The Harry listening also groaned. Why hadn't he changed the class the last year, considering how it went? At the very least, he should have tried to. Then again, considering that he only took the class because Ron did, that was probably why he bothered staying in it. He sighed. While being in a class with his friend was good and all, his book self should of at least thought about taking a different class after how horrible the first year was, and should have switched to it, even if Ron wasn't in it.
Professor Trelawney kept predicting Harry’s death, which he found extremely annoying.
“The fact that she did that during the first three classes should have had me finding a different class,” Harry said, rolling his eyes at the stupidity of his book self.
“You should have given it up like me, shouldn’t you?” said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast.
“Your eating again,” Luna said.
“Apparently,” Hermione said.
“That's good,” Cedric said. “When they realize that you're eating, they'll know that whatever 'mistake' they think you found with them was fixed, and will get back to their normal schedule.”
“I doubt my book self would think of that, though,” Hermione said. “Most likely, I was just too hungry to skip a meal again. Well, that, and the fact that it's not healthy to skip meals.”
“Then you’d be doing something sensible like Arithmancy.”
“I doubt my book self would think that Arithmancy is sensible,” Harry pointed out.
“You’re eating again, I notice,” said Ron, watching Hermione add liberal amounts of jam to her buttered toast.
“I’ve decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights,” said Hermione haughtily.
“It seems that you don't want to admit that you were hungry,” Harry said.
“Apparently not,” Hermione said.
“Yeah ... and you were hungry,” said Ron, grinning.
“I think he realises that your not telling the full truth,” Luna said.
There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows, carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and grey.
“I wonder what's taking so long,” Harry said. He couldn't help but worry about it, even though he knew that Sirius was probably as far from Britain and Hogwarts as possible.
The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. A large tawny owl soared down to Neville Longbottom and deposited a parcel in his lap – Neville almost always forgot to pack something. On the other side of the Hall Draco Malfoy’s eagle owl had landed on his shoulder, carrying what looked like his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home.
“Which, you know, I really don't understand why he's being given, unless it's just to show how spoiled he is to everyone else,” Hermione said.
“It most likely is,” Cedric said.
Trying to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in his stomach, Harry returned to his porridge. Was it possible that something had happened to Hedwig, and that Sirius hadn’t even got his letter?
“I really doubt something happened to your owl. She's too smart to let something happen to her,” Luna said.
His preoccupation lasted all the way across the sodden vegetable path until they arrived in greenhouse three,
“Which means that whatever your doing today is going to be something that you find noteworthy,” Cedric said.
but here he was distracted by Professor Sprout showing the class the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick black giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil.
Harry and Hermione wrinkled their noses.
“Bubotubers,” Luna said, recognising the description.
“What?” Harry said.
“It's what the plant is called. Bubotubers,” Luna said.
“Oh,” Harry muttered.
Each was squirming slightly, and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.
“Bubotubers,” Professor Sprout told them briskly. “They need squeezing. You will collect the pus –“
“Why do we need to collect the pus?” Hermione said, sounding revolted.
“Because it's extremely valuable,” Cedric said, shrugging. “At least, that's what my mother told me. Personally, I don't see what's valuable about it.”
“The what?” said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.
“Pus, Finnigan, pus,” said Professor Sprout, “and it’s extremely valuable, so don’t waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves, it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus.”
“That is true,” Luna said, remembering what she's heard about people who came into contact with the pus when it was undiluted. It kind of made her glad that she wasn't interested in becoming an Herbologist, as she'd have to work with those plants more than she really cared to. Knowing that she'd have to take a class about it was enough for her when it came to dealing with them.
Squeezing the Bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.
“That's good,” Cedric said.
“This’ll keep Madam Pomfrey happy,” said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. “An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, Bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples.”
“Which is probably why it's so valuable,” Hermione said. “After all, acne is horrible enough that most people would want to do anything to rid of it, and, sometimes, who things there are out there to get rid of it don't always work, it makes sense that people with Magic on their side would resort to desperate measures.”
“Like poor Eloise Midgen,” said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. “She tried to curse hers off.”
“That was probably the worse thing she could do,” Cedric said.
“Silly girl,” said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. “But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end.”
“Ouch,” Harry said.
A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated; the Hufflepuffs climbing the stone steps for Transfiguration, and the Gryffindors heading in the other direction, down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid’s small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.
“I don't think that I like the sound of that,” Hermione said.
“Mornin’!” Hagrid said, grinning at Harry, Ron and Hermione. “Be’er wait fer the Slytherins, they won’ want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!”
“What?” Harry asked.
“I don't know. I've never heard of them,” Cedric said, looking troubled.
“Well, whatever they are, if Hagrid's glad to see them, I have the feeling that they are not something we're going to like,” Hermione said.
“More than that, if I haven't heard of them, considering where my father works, then I have the feeling that they are not actual registered creatures, meaning that Hagrid is risking going to Azkaban again because he isn't permitted to breeding new magical creatures without a permit or special permission,” Cedric said.
“Eurgh” just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts, in Harry’s opinion.
“Which isn't very encouraging,” Luna said.
They looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over each other, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes.
And how many crates were there?” Hermione asked.
“It didn't actually say a number,” Cedric said, frowning. “What I can say though is that, if there are more than two, there's probably enough for everyone to be able to take care of one. At least, until it becomes known if they're violent or not.”
They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a Skrewt and, with a small phut, it would be propelled forwards several inches.
“On’y jus’ hatched,” said Hagrid proudly, “so yeh’ll be able ter raise ’em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!”
“I don't think that anyone would want to raise them,” Harry said.
“And why would we want to raise them?” said a cold voice.
“The Slytherins are there,” Hermione said.
The Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.
Hagrid looked stumped at the question.
“I don't think he can understand why they wouldn't want to raise them,” Cedric said. “After all, they're something he'd like, meaning dangerous, so it makes sense that he'd wonder why Malfoy was asking what he is asking.”
“I mean, what do they do?” asked Malfoy. “What is the point of them?”
“There probably isn't one, unless, for some strange reason, they're to be used for the tournament,” Hermione said. “And the only reason why I think it's the last bit is because if there was a death toll, I don't think we can count out anything about what they may or may not do with this tournament.”
Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds’ pause, then he said roughly, “Tha’s next lesson, Malfoy.”
“Meaning he just bred them for the fun of it, and is subjecting the two of you to it for no other reason,” Cedric said.
“Yer jus’ feedin’ ’em today. Now, yeh’ll wan’ ter try ’em on a few diff’rent things – I’ve never had ’em before, not sure what they’ll go fer – I got ant eggs an’ frog livers an’ a bit o’ grass-snake – just try ’em out with a bit of each.”
“First the pus, and then that,” Hermione muttered. “The day isn't shaping up to be all that good so far.”
“First pus and now this,” muttered Seamus.
Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Harry couldn’t suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the Skrewts didn’t seem to have mouths.
“They probably do, you just can't see it,” Luna said.
“Ouch!” yelled Dean Thomas, after about ten minutes. “It got me!”
Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.
“Yeah, it wouldn't do good for him to end up getting in trouble his first class of the year yet again,” Cedric said.
“Its end exploded!” said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.
“Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off,” said Hagrid, nodding.
“Eurgh!” said Lavender Brown again. “Eurgh, Hagrid, what’s that pointy thing on it?”
“Ah, some of ’em have got stings,” said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box).
“I would too,” Hermione said. “How Hagrid could be enthusiastic about that...”
“It's because they're dangerous,” Cedric said.
“I know. I just wish he'd realize that the rest of us do not share his opinions about what's dangerous and what's not,” Hermione said.
“I reckon they’re the males ... the females’ve got sorta sucker things on their bellies ... I think they might be ter suck blood.”
“I'm not all that encourage by his lack of knowledge about them.” Harry said.
“I don't think any of us are,” Hermione said.
“Well, I can certainly see why we’re trying to keep them alive,” said Malfoy sarcastically. “Who wouldn’t want pets that can burn, sting and bite all at once?”
“Only Hagrid would,” Luna said.
“Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,” Hermione snapped.
“The question is do you actually believe that?” Cedric said.
“I don't think I do,” Hermione said. “I most likely said that to shut Malfoy up.”
“Dragon blood’s amazingly magical, but you wouldn’t want a dragon for a pet, would you?”
“That's kind of funny to say, considering that you're next to someone you know wants a dragon for a pet,” Cedric said, referring to Hagrid.
Harry and Ron grinned at Hagrid, who gave them a furtive smile from behind his bushy beard. Hagrid would have liked nothing better than a pet dragon, as Harry, Ron and Hermione knew only too well – he had owned one for a brief period during their first year, a vicious Norwegian Ridgeback by the name of Norbert.
“Of course, in Hagrid's opinion, he was as cuddly and innocent and a kitten,” Cedric added.
Hagrid simply loved monstrous creatures – the more lethal, the better.
“Truthfully, I don't think it's a good idea to have someone like him as a teacher considering that he thinks like that,” Hermione said.
“Well, at least the Skrewts are small,” said Ron, as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch an hour later.
“For now,” Harry said.
“They are now,” said Hermione in an exasperated voice, “but once Hagrid’s found out what they eat, I expect they’ll be six feet long.”
“Possibly longer,” Cedric said.
“Well, that won’t matter if they turn out to cure sea sickness or something, will it?” said Ron, grinning slyly at her.
“You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up,” said Hermione. “As a matter of fact I think he’s right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all.”
“That is probably the best thing to do,” Luna said.
They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Hermione began to eat so fast that Harry and Ron stared at her.
“I take it that you're in a hurry to get somewhere,” Cedric said.
“I don't know,” Hermione said. “I would imagine I am, if I'm eating as fast as it says I am.”
“Er – is this the new stand on elf rights?” said Ron. “You’re going to make yourself puke instead?”
“No,” said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. “I just want to get to the library.”
“Ah, that makes sense why your doing that,” Cedric said.
“I have a feeling that Ron and Harry are probably going to be shocked that you want to go there, considering that it's not only the first day of school, but you don't have homework yet,” Luna said.
“Ron will probably be more horrified than me, since I'll hopefully realize that it's actually quite on par with how she usually is,” Harry said.
“What?” said Ron in disbelief. “Hermione – it’s the first day back! We haven’t even got homework yet!”
Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, “See you at dinner!” and departed at high speed.
“ 'With Ron staring after her as if she'd lost her mind',” Cedric added in. Hermione looked over at the page.
“It doesn't say that,” she said.
“Doesn't mean that it's not true,” Cedric countered. “Especially since we already know that he probably already thinks that without needing it to be confirmed.”
Hermione had to admit that he had a point.
When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiralling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived.
The familiar sweet perfume emanating from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Harry and Ron walked through the mass of occupied chintz chairs and pouffes that cluttered the room, and sat down at the same small circular table.
“So, basically, it hasn't changed,” Harry said.
“Good day,” said the misty voice of Professor Trelawney right behind Harry, making him jump.
“For some reason, it feels as though she was waiting for me to be there before coming around,” Luna said.
A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw him. The usual large amount of beads, chains and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight.
“You are preoccupied, my dear,” she said mournfully to Harry. “My Inner Eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas ... most difficult ... I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass ... and perhaps sooner than you think ...”
“Of course, why doesn't that surprise me,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
Her voice dropped almost to a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, who looked stonily back. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on pouffes very close to her.
“I feel sorry for how gullible the two are,” Harry said.
“My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars,” she said. “The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle …”
But Harry’s thoughts had drifted.
“Besides the fact that she's not that worth listening to, the perfume in the air most likely has me becoming sleepy,” Harry said.
The perfumed fire always made him feel sleepy and dull-witted, and Professor Trelawney’s rambling talks on fortune-telling never held him exactly spellbound – though he couldn’t help thinking about what she had just said to him.
“I don't know exactly what she means though, other than my fears about Sirius being caught, but I really doubt that it will actually happen. Sirius isn't going to suddenly become careless and get caught,” Harry said.
“I think she just wants to freak you out,” Hermione said. “And I also think that, because she probably thinks that whatever it is that you dread is bad, so of course she'd want you to think that it would happen sooner rather than later.”
“I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass ...”
But Hermione was right, Harry thought irritably, Professor Trelawney really was an old fraud. He wasn’t dreading anything at the moment at all ... well, unless you counted his fears that Sirius had been caught ... but what did Professor Trelawney know? He had long since come to the conclusion that her brand of fortune-telling was really no more than lucky guess-work and a spooky manner.
“Though she was right the one time,” Harry said.
Except, of course, for that time at the end of last term, when she had made the prediction about Voldemort rising again ... and Dumbledore himself had said that he thought that trance had been genuine, when Harry had described it to him …
“Harry!” Ron muttered.
“What?”
Harry looked around; the whole class was staring at him. He sat up straight; he had been almost dozing off, lost in the heat and his thoughts.
“I was giving the class the attention it deserved,” Harry said.
“I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn,” said Professor Trelawney, a faint note of resentment in her voice at the fact that he had obviously not been hanging on her words.
“Well, your not worth listening to a whole lot, so...” Harry said.
“Born under – what, sorry?” said Harry.
“Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn!” said Professor Trelawney, sounding definitely irritated that he wasn’t riveted by this news. “I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth ... your dark hair ... your mean stature ... tragic losses so young in life ... I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in mid-winter?”
“Nope,” Harry said. “I was born in summer.”
“You know, though I doubt it would happen, I really hope that the other students take note of just how off she was on you,” Hermione said.
“If they still believed her after the last year, they're hopeless,” Cedric said.
“No,” said Harry, “I was born in July.”
Ron hastily turned his laugh into a hacking cough.
“Yeah, it wouldn't do for him to get caught laughing at the teacher,” Luna said.
Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.
“I’ve got two Neptunes here,” said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, “that can’t be right, can it?”
“No, it's not,” Hermione said.
“Aaaaah,” said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney’s mystical whisper, “when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry ...”
The four snorted at that.
Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown – “Oh, Professor, look! I think I’ve got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one’s that, Professor?”
“If she's not sure which planet it is, she should learn them all,” Hermione said.
“It is Uranus, my dear,” said Professor Trelawney, peering down at the chart.
“Can I have a look at Uranus, too, Lavender?” said Ron.
Cedric sniggered, while Hermione, getting what it was that Ron was actually saying, shook her head.
“That's not appropriate to say at all,” she said.
Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him,
“So what if she did,” Luna said. “Considering how much fun people make of her class, she can't not expect it.”
and it was this, perhaps, which made her give them so much homework at the end of the class.
“I wonder what it is that she's given you,” Hermione said.
“A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart,” she snapped, sounding much more like Professor McGonagall than her usual airy-fairy self.
“Oh, my,” Luna said.
“I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!”
“That definitely sounds like Professor McGonagall,” Cedric said.
“Miserable old bat,” said Ron bitterly, as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. “That’ll take all weekend, that will ...”
“I doubt it, since we'll probably just lie about it. After all, all we need to do is put a lot of misery in it and she'll lap it up,” Harry said.
“Lots of homework?” said Hermione brightly, catching up with them. “Professor Vector didn’t give us any at all!”
“Are you bragging?” Harry asked.
“Probably just a little bit,” Hermione said. “I wouldn't be surprised if Ron has done it to me enough times to make me want to retaliate. And I most likely would be able to tell by his expression about it as well.”
“Well, bully for Professor Vector,” said Ron moodily.
They reached the Entrance Hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.
“I have the feeling that this isn't going to be anything good,” Luna said.
“Weasley! Hey, Weasley!”
Harry, Ron and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.
“If they're looking pleased about it, I really don't think it's a good thing,” Cedric said.
“What?” said Ron shortly.
“Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!” said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet, and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed Entrance Hall could hear. “Listen to this!”
“For maximum embarrassment towards Ron,” Hermione said, shaking her head.
FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
It seems as though the Ministry of Magics troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.
Hermione frowned.
Malfoy looked up.
“Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley, it’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?” he crowed.
“Which is probably why she did that,” Cedric said. “It's how she is.”
Everyone in the Entrance Hall was listening now.
“Which Malfoy probably loves,” Hermione said.
Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish, and read on:
Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago,
“So, among the first things she does is mention that Mr. Weasley is not squeaky clean with the law,” Harry said, shaking his head.
was yesterday involved with a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (“policemen”) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins.
“Which, technically, are a part of his department, as dustbins are Muggle objects,” Cedric said.
Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody,
“Actually, my father pretty much told him to go there,” Cedric said.
the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder.
“Didn't you say that he was force to retire?” Hermione asked.
“He was,” Cedric said. “However, while not nice to everyone, Skeeter does tend to be at least a bit more complimentary towards Fudge, his administration, and his friends.”
“So it's not like she's about to drag the Minister into anything that would be bad towards him,” Harry said.
“Exactly,” Cedric said.
Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm.
“Considering that it took Mr. Weasley a while to get there, it's possible that something could have happened in-between the time the alarm was sent and Mr. Weasley arrived,” Hermione said. “Professor Moody just might have not caught whoever it was, and, knowing how people think of him, doesn't think it's worth rising a fuss about it.”
Mr. Weasley was forced to modifyseveral memories before he could escape from the policemen,
“Um, wouldn't he have to do that anyway, since the dustbins were moving while the policemen were there already,” Hermione said.
“Yes, but it seems she wants to be a bit vicious towards him. It doesn't surprise me, of course. Mr. Weasley is a firmly Light wizard who despises the dark arts and those who practice them, and since Lucius Malfoy – someone that Skeeter thinks of as a pillar of the community – is not only a Dark wizard but also hates Mr. Weasley...” Cedric said.
“Don't really worry about it. While the DMLE can't do anything to keep Skeeter from telling her lies, they can tell another reporter at the Daily Prophet the truth, which will get out and keep people from going after Mr. Weasley,” Luna said. “It also helps that his name was gotten wrong, since anyone who would send him howlers will end up sending them to the wrong person.”
“Which actually means that, if she planned on him having his life disturbed by Howlers and people demanding him to resign or something like that, she won't be getting what she wants,” Cedric said, sounding satisfied.
but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.
“Oh, dear, how dare he do his job,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
“And there’s a picture, Weasley!” said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. “A picture of your parents outside their house – if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”
“How rude,” Hermione said. “Of course, considering who it is that's speaking, it makes sense that he has no manners.”
“He better be prepared to have his mother ragged on, if he's going to do that towards other people's mothers,” Cedric said.
“If he can't stand him mother being picked on, he isn't allowed to pick on anyone else's mother,” Luna said.
“I doubt he'll care about that, though,” Hermione pointed out. “He'll probably say that they can't talk about his mother, even if he talks about the mothers of other people.”
Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him.
“I think it might best if we got Ron out of there, before he explodes,” Hermione said.
“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron ...”
“Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?”
“You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry – both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him launching himself at Malfoy – “That expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”
“So I'm the one who does the insulting towards his mother,” Harry said.
“Probably because you've begun to see her a bit as a replacement mother for yourself,” Cedric said. “And, with Ron as angry as he is, you most likely need to do something to keep Malfoy to from making Ron even angrier.”
Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink.
“Makes you wonder if it's the later,” Luna said.
“Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.”
“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.
BANG!
Several people screamed – Harry felt something white hot graze the side of his face
“Did he just try and curse you?” Hermione said. “He should be expelled for that.”
“He won't, of course, but I agree with you completely, especially considering that he could have seriously hurt you if he had better aim,” Cedric said, frowning.
– he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar which echoed through the Entrance Hall.
“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”
“Uh-oh,” Cedric said. “He's going to regret that.”
“What do you mean?” Hermione said.
“He did the spell right in front of Moody, while his opponent's back was turned,” Cedric said. “It's well known that Moody hates that, and that, if he sees someone doing that, he will make them regret it. He had no time or want for cowards who wait until their enemies backs are turned before they strike.”
“Oh,” Hermione said. “I almost feel sorry for Malfoy.”
Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.
“If it's standing where Malfoy had been, I have the feeling that it is Malfoy,” Cedric said, laughing a bit as he imagined Malfoy as such. The others laughed as well. While it might not be right to do so, after trying to curse Harry, they truly believed that he more than deserved it. It was a few moments of laughter running through the place before Cedric went back to the book.
There was a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry – at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.
“Did he get you?” Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.
“He just missed,” Harry said.
“No,” said Harry, “missed.”
“LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted.
“Leave what?” Hermione said.
“Leave – what?” Harry said, bewildered.
“Not you – him!” Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.
“That has to be useful,” Luna said.
“I guess that's why the eye is always on the move,” Harry said. “It's because it's making sure that there's no one around to attack him.”
Moody started to limp towards Crabbe, Goyle and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking towards the dungeons.
“That's not surprising,” Hermione said. “He wouldn't want to be around Moody considering what it was that he did to him. And, in the dungeons, he probably thinks that Snape will protect him.”
“Which probably isn't right, since I don't Moody will care about it,” Luna said.
“I don’t think so!” roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again – it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more.
“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” growled Moody, as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do ...”
The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
“I hope he doesn't do this for much longer. He could end up really hurting him, which would get himself into trouble that he most likely wouldn't be able to get out of,” Hermione said.
“True,” Cedric said.
“Never – do – that – again –“ said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upwards again.
“I wonder if Malfoy actually will take this to heart,” Harry said.
“Professor Moody!” said a shocked voice.
“I think that Malfoy's humiliation is going to be over soon,” Luna said, sounding disappointed.
Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
“Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
“What – what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.
“Teaching,” said Moody.
“Yeah, that's what he's doing, teaching us how to turn blond albino idiots into ferrets,” Hermione said, smiling.
“Teach— Moody, is that a student?” shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.
“Yep,” said Moody.
The four laughed at the way Moody just seemed unconcerned over the fact that he'd done something he most likely wasn't supposed to do.
“No!” cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.
“I wonder how long it'll take him to forget that punishment,” Luna said.
“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!” said Professor McGonagall weakly. “Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”
“Most likely,” Cedric said.
“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah,” said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, “but I thought a good sharp shock –“
“You have to admit, it probably was very effective,” Hermione said.
“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of house!”
“Neither of those would work out that well, especially the latter, considering that Malfoy is his favourite student,” Harry said. “And a detention is most likely forgotten sooner over later.”
“I’ll do that, then,” said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.
Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words “my father” were distinguishable.
“Probably not the smartest idea,” Cedric said. “Moody is known to have a very low opinion of Malfoy and those like him.”
“That threat will not really bother him all that much, then, will it?” Hermione said.
“No, it most likely won't,” Cedric said.
“Oh yeah?” said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. “Well, I know your father of old, boy ... you tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son ... you tell him that from me ...”
“I have the feeling that Malfoy is not going to like the next letter from his father, should he actually say that,” Luna said.
“now, your Head of house’ll be Snape, will it?”
“Yes,” said Malfoy resentfully.
“Another old friend,” growled Moody.
“I take it that he doesn't actually mean an actual friend,” Hermione said.
“No, I do not believe he does,” Luna said.
“I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape ... come on, you ...” And he seized Malfoy’s upper arm and marched him off towards the dungeons.
Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.
“I notice it doesn't actually say that she told everyone to head somewhere else,” Harry said.
“I get the feeling that Malfoy has gotten her mad enough that it's only the fact that he's a student that actually had her being like that,” Hermione said.
“Most likely,” Cedric said.
“Don’t talk to me,” Ron said quietly to Harry and Hermione, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.
“Why not?” said Hermione in surprise.
“Because I want to fix that in my memory for ever,” said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. “Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret ...”
The four laughed at that.
“I do hope that, with what we plan on doing, that won't actually change from that happening,” Hermione said.
Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began doling beef casserole onto each of their plates.
“He could have really hurt Malfoy, though,” she said. “It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it –“
“That's true. Truthfully, though, it's mostly the fact that he bouncing him that's what I'm probably talking about, not the being turned into a ferret part,” Hermione said.
“Hermione!” said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again. “You’re ruining the best moment of my life!”
“Why doesn't that surprise me?” Harry said.
Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.
“Don’t tell me you’re going back to the library this evening?” said Harry, watching her.
“Most likely,” Hermione said.
“Got to,” said Hermione thickly. “Loads to do.”
“But you told us Professor Vector –“
“I have the feeling that it's not homework that she's doing,” Luna said.
“House-elves,” Cedric said. “You're researching material on house-elves.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, honestly, it's the only thing that makes sense, since you've got loads to do. Now, if you were just going there because you wanted to read something, you would have mentioned that. As it is, because you're very disgruntled about the whole house-elf deal – or, rather, your book self is – your book self wants to do something to change it. So, you go to the library to find some material on house-elves,” Cedric said. “I don't think you'll have much luck, though. House-elves rarely make it in books, and what books they do are vastly lacking in information that would help you make the right decision.”
“I really hope you realise the fact that, because there is a lack of information, it would be better to wait before doing something about it, instead of charging in missing information,” Luna said.
“I have the feeling that I'll most likely charge in no matter what lack of information there is,” Hermione said.
“It’s not schoolwork,” she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed.
No sooner had she gone than her seat was taken by Fred Weasley. “Moody!” he said. “How cool is he?”
“Beyond cool,” said George, sitting down opposite Fred.
“Supercool,” said the twins’ best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George.
“I wonder if they saw the amazing bouncing ferret Malfoy or not,” Luna said. “I mean, if they're just coming up as it seems, they might not have.”
“Even if they didn't see it, they'll most likely have heard about it by now,” Cedric said.
“We had him this afternoon,” he told Harry and Ron.
“What was it like?” said Harry eagerly.
“If they liked it, then it's kind of obvious that it was good,” Harry said. “Hence why I'm probably eager.”
Fred, George and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.
“Never had a lesson like it,” said Fred.
“He knows, man,” said Lee.
“Knows what?” said Ron, leaning forwards.
“Knows what it’s like to be out there doing it,” said George impressively.
“Doing what?” said Harry.
“Fighting the Dark Arts,” said Fred.
“Considering that he was not only and Auror, but the top Auror during the war, it makes sense that he would know,” Cedric said.
“He’s seen it all,” said George.
“ ’Mazing,” said Lee.
Ron dived into his bag for his timetable.
“We haven’t got him ’til Thursday!” he said in a disappointed voice.
“Wow, that has got to be the first time Ron is actually excited to go to a class,” Luna said.
“That's the end of the chapter,” Cedric said, handing the book over to Luna.