"Remember, Harry, Cedric mentioned that in one of the previous chapters," Hermione said.
Tom woke Harry next morning with his usual toothless grin and a cup of tea. Harry got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Hedwig to get back into her cage when Ron banged his way into the room, pulling a sweatshirt over his head and looking irritable.
“Percy must've been bothering him again,” Cedric said.
“I wonder what he's being bothered about this time,” Hermione said.
“The sooner we get on the train, the better,” he said. “At least I can get away from Percy at Hogwarts. Now he’s accusing me of dripping tea on his photo of Penelope Clearwater. You know,” Ron grimaced, “his girlfriend.”
“I wonder why he grimaced,” Harry said.
“She’s hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy ...”
“Can't handling looking imperfect,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “You'd think that, for a Ravenclaw, they wouldn't really care much about how they look. They're supposed to be intelligent, not all into their looks.”
“I’ve got something to tell you,” Harry began, but they were interrupted by Fred and George, who had looked in to congratulate Ron on infuriating Percy again.
“Are they trying to rile him up?” Harry asked.
“Seems so,” Cedric said.
“Well they shouldn't,” Harry said.
“Especially since it's not them whose going to have to deal with it,” Hermione said.
They headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the Daily Prophet with a furrowed brow
“I wonder what it's about,” Luna said.
and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a Love Potion she’d made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly.
“Why would I be giggly about a Love Potion?” Hermione asked. “I don't think they're right to use, on anyone, and I shouldn't be laughing about someone making one, particularly since they would most likely be using it and messing with another's emotions, something that I don't approve of in any way, shape, or form.”
“That's my thoughts about it as well,” Luna said. “The only thing I can guess is that Mrs. Weasley is either telling the story about how she used a love potion on Mr. Weasley – even though he knew about it – or that she's telling the story of how she used one on one of her brothers, as a payback for something he did to some other girl. Apparently, she made him think he was in love with some guy in another house.”
“It doesn't matter. I shouldn't be giggly about it, and it's horrible of her to tell these stories to anyone,” Hermione said. “Particularly impressionable children.”
“That's Mrs. Weasley,” Luna said, shrugging.
“How do you know that Mr. Weasley knew about the potion?” Harry asked.
“I asked him, and he told me,” Luna said. “I didn't find the story all that funny or romantic, and asked him how he could be married to someone who took away his free will, only to have him explain that he knew about the potion, and only let her give it to him as a way to give him the courage to talk to her. Of course, I do beleive that Ginny really doesn't get that part well – or, rather, she always seems to ignore it or something like that, since Mrs. Weasley began adding that part on to the end of it after Mr. Weasley got on her case about it.”
“She tells the story often, then,” Hermione said.
“Yeah. Thinks it's romantic,” Luna said. "And it's not the only story involving Love Potions that she tells her kids, before they can learn that it's not right, so it's not like they realize it's wrong."
“I don't see what's romantic about messing with a person's emotions,” Hermione said. Then, a thought occurred to her. “You don't think that she would resort to doing that on Harry? I mean, seeing the fact that he mother did it, and it worked out well for her. Do you think she'd do it herself?”
“She might think about it, but I think she'd be smart enough to know that it would look pretty suspicious if he were to suddenly like her, which is what a love potion does. Plus, knowing you, you'd probably noticed if Harry was acting strangely, and would drag him to the Hospital Wing for help,” Luna said. “No, I don't think she'd do a real love potion. Of course, that doesn't mean that she can't think up of another type of potion to use, if she gets desperate enough.”
“What were you saying?” Ron asked Harry, as they sat down.
“I don't think there is a good place to tell him,” Harry said. “Plus, I'll want to tell Hermione as well.”
“Later,” Harry muttered, as Percy stormed in.
“Yeah, you should wait until your on the train to tell them what you heard,” Cedric said. “Less chance of being interrupted that way.”
Harry had no chance to speak to Ron or Hermione in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron’s narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Hedwig and Hermes, Percy’s screech owl, perched on top in their cages. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.
“I don't think that Crookshanks likes being cooped up,” Hermione said.
“It’s all right, Crookshanks,” Hermione cooed through the wickerwork, “I’ll let you out on the train.”
“I get the feeling that Ron's not going to like hearing that,” Luna said.
“You won’t,” snapped Ron. “What about poor Scabbers, eh?”
He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.
“Doesn't he ever put him in a cage?” Harry asked. “That would be the safest place for him, after all. Less chance of anything happening to him.”
Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.
“They’re here,” he said. “Harry, come on.”
“Talk about overkill, singling me out right away,” Harry said. “I don't need an escort, after all.”
“He's taking the job of protecting you very seriously,” Hermione said.
Mr. Weasley marched Harry across the short stretch of pavement towards the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard, wearing a suit of emerald velvet.
“In you get, Harry,” said Mr. Weasley, glancing up and down the crowded street.
“Somehow, I think that, if Black is heading to Hogwarts, he would have gone straight there,” Hermione said. “I mean, I doubt he would have any idea of where to find Harry, unless he knew the exact date, and, because he would only have a small opening of time, it would probably be easier to just head straight to the school.”
Harry got into the back of the car, and was shortly joined by Hermione, Ron and, to Ron’s disgust, Percy.
“Why couldn't the twins have joined us?” Harry said.
“Because then either Ron or me couldn't sit there,” Hermione said.
“Should this actually happen, lets hope that its the twins, me, and you sitting there,” Harry said. “While Ron's an okay guy, I like the twins more.”
The journey to King’s Cross was very uneventful compared to Harry’s trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary, though Harry noticed that they could slide through gaps that Uncle Vernon’s new company car certainly couldn’t have managed.
“At least they chose people who know how to drive,” Hermione said.
They reached King’s Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats to Mr. Weasley and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving queue for the traffic lights.
Mr. Weasley kept close to Harry’s elbow all the way into the station.
“Right then,” he said, glancing around them. “Let’s do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I’ll go through first with Harry.”
“Definitely over doing it,” Harry said. “Though, just in case your wrong, Hermione, I would rather have Mr. Weasley by my side than you or someone else. That way, if Black is there, no one really gets hurt.”
Mr. Weasley strolled towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Harry’s trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Harry, he leant casually against the barrier. Harry imitated him.
Next moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Hogwarts Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with witches and wizards seeing their children onto the train.
Percy and Ginny suddenly appeared behind Harry. They were panting, and had apparently taken the barrier at a run.
“I wonder why they decided to do that,” Hermione said.
“Ah, there’s Penelope!” said Percy, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ginny caught Harry’s eye and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Percy strode over to a girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn’t miss his shiny badge.
There was some laughter at that.
Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Ron led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Hedwig and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, and finally, Harry. He was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave him an extra hug.
Harry smiled at that, then stopped, thinking. Was she doing this because she really cared, because she wanted to take over for his mother, or because she truly believed that he and Ginny were so inevitable that she already thought of herself as his mother?
“Do take care, won’t you, Harry?” she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her enormous handbag and said, “I’ve made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Ron ... no, they’re not corned beef ... Fred? Where’s Fred? Here you are, dear ...”
“Harry,” said Mr. Weasley quietly, “come over here a moment.”
“Looks like he's decided to tell you. Or, rather, at least attempt to tell you,” Hermione said. “Since you already know, there's nothing else to really say to you, is there.”
“I'm glad he at least realizes that leaving me ignorant isn't the right thing to do,” Harry said.
“I wonder if Mrs. Weasley knows what he's going to do or not,” Luna said.
He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Harry followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs. Weasley.
“That's almost like he purposely made sure she was occupied before trying to tell you,” Cedric said.
“Well, considering that she didn't want me to be informed, and the fact that I doubt that has changed, he probably want to make sure that she doesn't interrupt,” Harry said.
“There’s something I’ve got to tell you before you leave –“ said Mr. Weasley, in a tense voice.
“It’s all right, Mr. Weasley,” said Harry, “I already know.”
“You know? How could you know?”
“Well, between the excessive protection detail, and the fact that, as a follower of Voldemort, it's either he's after me or going to his master, it's not hard to figure out,” Harry said. “Once you really think about it.”
I take it that's your way of saying we should have really thought about it,” Luna said. Harry nodded.
“If we had actually really thought about it, we probably would have suspected it a lot sooner,” Harry said.
“I – er – I heard you and Mrs. Weasley talking last night. I couldn’t help hearing,” Harry added quickly. “Sorry –“
“Apologizing for eavesdropping?” Hermione asked. “Somehow, I don't really think he'll care all that much about it.”
“That’s not the way I’d have chosen for you to find out,” said Mr. Weasley, looking anxious.
“No – honestly, it’s OK. This way, you haven’t broken your word to Fudge and I know what’s going on.”
“That is one way to look at it,” Luna said.
"Harry, you must be very scared –“
“I’m not,” said Harry sincerely.
“If we hadn't read it yet, we'd probably think you were lying or trying to cover up your fear with faux bravery,” Hermione said.
“Really,” he added, because Mr. Weasley was looking disbelieving.
“I have to wonder, does he expect you to be scared because everyone else is?” Hermione asked.
“Most likely,” Cedric said.
“I’m not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Sirius Black can’t be worse than Voldemort, can he?”
“That's true,” Cedric said. “Voldemort is definitely worse.”
Mr. Weasley flinched at the sound of the name, but overlooked it.
“Most people complain about it, I take it,” Harry said.
“Yep,” Cedric said. “The only other person I know of that has never really said it is Dumbledore, but then, when your not only the one rumored to be the only person he fears, but you also know who he is, and therefore know that the names fake, it's kind of hard to be completely be afraid of saying it.”
“Harry, I knew you were, well, made of stronger stuff than Fudge seems to think, and I’m obviously pleased that you’re not scared, but –“
“Arthur!” called Mrs. Weasley, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. “Arthur, what are you doing? It’s about to go!”
“He’s coming, Molly!” said Mr. Weasley, but he turned back to Harry and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice. “Listen, I want you to give me your word –“
“– that I’ll be a good boy and stay in the castle?” said Harry gloomily.
“Somehow, I don't think that's what he's going to ask,” Cedric said. “It's kind of impossible to expect you to stay in the castle, because you not only have a class that's most likely outside, but you also have Quidditch practice, and keeping you cooped up won't do any good, either.”
“Not entirely,” said Mr. Weasley, who looked more serious than Harry had ever seen him. “Harry, swear to me you won’t go looking for Black.”
“What?” Harry said.
“He wants you to say you won't go looking for him,” Luna said.
“I know that. I just want to know why he thinks I would go looking for someone who wants to kill me,” Harry said.
“Well, maybe he thinks that you tend to do that. I mean, with what happened in the last two years, he might think that you like to do some adventuring, and going after someone dangerous like Black would just be another adventure to you,” Cedric said.
“But I don't do that for fun,” Harry said. “I only faced Riddle because I had to, not because I intentionally went looking for them. In the first year, it was the Stone, and not wanting it to get into his hands – though, now that I think about it, it was quite safe, since he would have never been able to get it from the mirror, and I have the feeling that breaking the mirror would have done him no good. As for the second time, I didn't even know I would end up facing him, I only went down into the Chamber because I didn't want Ron to lose his sister. I didn't go after them because I thought it would be fun.”
“I know that. I'm just saying that's what he might think,” Cedric said.
“Actually, I have to wonder if there isn't another reason for it,” Hermione said. “I mean, it's very possible that we're not being told the whole story, since, chances are, there are things that Mr. Weasley doesn't know. I mean, why are they so sure he's going after you? If he was second in command, I would have expected him to have headed towards wherever Voldemort is hiding. Yet, they believe he's fixated on you, why? And they can't say it's what he was whispering, because that could be to anyone, not just you.”
“Who knows,” Cedric said. “Hopefully, without Harry and you having to face him, we'll be able to find out.”
Harry stared. “What?”
There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train, slamming all the doors shut.
“Promise me, Harry,” said Mr. Weasley, talking more quickly still, “that whatever happens –“
“Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?” said Harry blankly.
“Swear to me that whatever you might hear –“
“Arthur, quickly!” cried Mrs. Weasley.
“I don't think he's getting that promise from you,” Hermione said.
“I don't either,” Harry said.
Steam was billowing from the train; it had started to move. Harry ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leant out of the window and waved at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.
“That was a close call,” Harry said.
“I need to talk to you in private,” Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.
“Go away, Ginny,” said Ron.
“How nice,” Hermione said dryly.
“Oh, that’s nice,” said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.
Harry, Ron and Hermione set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.
This only had one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window.
“Somehow, I think it's the best your going to get,” Luna said.
“Is it an adult?” Cedric said. “You normally don't see adults on the train, other than the lady who pushed the food trolley.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food trolley.
“Apparently it is,” Harry said. “I wonder who it is?”
The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes which had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though he seemed quite young, his light-brown hair was flecked with grey.
“Whoever he is, he's not well off,” Cedric said.
“And his life has probably been extremely bad,” Hermione said. “If he's already going grey while still seeming to be young.”
“Who d’you reckon he is?” Ron hissed, as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats furthest away from the window.
“Professor R. J. Lupin,” whispered Hermione at once.
“I take it you read that somewhere,” Luna said.
“Most likely, since I have no idea of who the man is,” Hermione said.
“How d’you know that?”
“I take it he didn't bother to look around and see where it might be at before asking that,” Luna said.
“It’s on his case,” replied Hermione, pointing at the luggage rack over the man’s head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name ‘Professor R. J. Lupin’ was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.
“I wonder if he's always been a professor,” Hermione said.
“It does seem that way,” Harry said. “Otherwise, why would it have the 'Professor' part look like the rest of it.”
“True,” Hermione said.
“Wonder what he teaches?” said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin’s pallid profile.
“Since we're sure that Hagrid's the new Professor of Care of Magical Creatures – and only because of what type of book we're being told to get – my guess is that he's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I mean, we really do need a new one, don't we?” Luna said.
“True,” Harry said. “I really hope he doesn't try to harm me in any way, shape, or form.”
“Well, with your track record, I can see why you'd say that,” Hermione said. “One tried to kill you, another tried to erase your memory. If this year ends up being bad like those two, I think it would be safe to say that Dumbledore is purposely arranging for Defense teachers that want to harm you, if not outright kill you.”
“That’s obvious,” whispered Hermione. “There’s only one vacancy, isn’t there? Defence Against the Dark Arts.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione had already had two Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, both of whom had only lasted one year. There were rumours that the job was jinxed.
“I wonder if this is something that's started your first year, or...” Hermione started to asked.
“It's been going on for a while,” Cedric told her. “I've already had two different teachers for the class as well. Quirrell will be the third, with Lockhart the fourth, and Mr. Lupin's going to be the fifth. Plus, I've heard tell that it's been going on for quite a while, since the late fifties, I believe. It happened not long after Dumbledore became Headmaster, I think.”
“Do you think all of the Defense teachers you – as well as us – have/will have were taught at Hogwarts?” Hermione asked.
“Yes. Hogwarts usually only hires teachers who were students there,” Cedric said. “Why?”
“Because, if it's been going on that long, then chances are that any teacher hired, even if they aced the subject, are not as good as they should be. I mean, they most likely ended up going through the same thing as we are, and, with that non-stability, as well as the fact that each teacher held such a different approach – or, like Lockhart, was just chosen simply because he was the only one who applied. Because of that, more harm than good is going on.”
“She right,” Luna said. “And, when you think about it, that means that anyone who attended Hogwarts and obtained a mastery without having left Britain isn't really worth being called a master elsewhere, because they don't know the subject as well as they should.”
“If it's not the same way everywhere else,” Hermione said.
“If it's not the same way everywhere else,” Luna amended to her previous statement.
“Well, I hope he’s up to it,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn’t he?”
“What he looks like, and what he's able to do will probably be very different,” Hermione said.
“Anyway ...” he turned to Harry, “what were you going to tell us?”
“Time for the horror,” Hermione said. “You know, your going to be making my books self very worried.”
Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he’d finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, and Hermione had her hands over her mouth.
“See, worried,” Hermione said. “And I know that you can take care of yourself, as well.”
She finally lowered them to say, “Sirius Black escaped to come after you? Oh, Harry ... you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble, Harry …”
“Okay, that's a bit stupid for me to say. I mean, you don't go looking for trouble, it just seems to usually find you,” Hermione said.
“I don’t go looking for trouble,” said Harry, nettled. “Trouble usually finds me.”
“How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?” said Ron shakily.
“Says the guy who wanted to go looking for him, knowing that he could kill thirteen people without much effort,” Harry said.
They were taking the news worse than Harry had expected. Both Ron and Hermione seemed to be much more frightened of Black than he was.
“And we're probably wonder why you don't seem as frightened as we are,” Hermione said.
“No one knows how he got out of Azkaban,” said Ron uncomfortably. “No one’s ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner, too.”
“I take it that top security means that he was pretty much guarded twenty-four-seven,” Hermione said. Cedric nodded.
“But they’ll catch him, won’t they?” said Hermione earnestly. “I mean, they’ve got all the Muggles looking out for him, too ...”
“Until it's known how he got out, then you can't assume anything,” Cedric said.
“What’s that noise?” said Ron suddenly.
A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.
“It’s coming from your trunk, Harry,” said Ron, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry’s robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron’s hand, and glowing brilliantly.
“If it got loud enough to be heard from the trunk, I do believe that means that it's been going on for quite a while,” Cedric said, a thinking look on his face. “So, that means that, it was either going off before you got on the train, or it immediately began to not only pick up things happening on the train, one after another, or it means that the Professor isn't actually asleep.”
“And you figure this...how?” Hermione asked.
“The Sneakoscope progresses in stages, if I'm thinking correctly. When it first starts, it gives off a low whistle, spins slowly, and doesn't glow all that brightly. However, the longer it's in a place where devious activity is found, it'll get louder, spin faster, and glow brightly, like it apparently is now,” Cedric said.
“Of course, how loud they get varies with their size,” Luna added. “A small one like that, well, it's very doubtful that it'll get louder than it is now. In fact, my guess is, if you were to purposely wrap it up into something think, and stick it back in there, you wouldn't be able to hear it any more.”
“Is that a Sneakoscope?” said Hermione interestedly, standing up for a better look.
“Yeah ... mind you, it’s a very cheap one,” Ron said. “It went hay-wire just as I was tying it to Errol’s leg to send it to Harry.”
“Well, I have an idea that, considering the fact of how old Errol is, as well as the fact that sooner rather than later he probably won't even be able to carry a single, small, lightweight letter, Ron probably wasn't supposed to be using him,” Hermione said.
“Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?” said Hermione shrewdly.
“Even your book self knows that there's something up if it was going off,” Harry said.
“No! Well ... I wasn’t supposed to be using Errol. You know he’s not really up to long journeys ... but how else was I supposed to get Harry’s present to him?”
“He order a post owl that could handle the job,” Hermione said. “And he really can't complain about not having the money, either, because, at the time, he does.”
“Stick it back in the trunk,” Harry advised, as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, “or it’ll wake him up.”
“If he's the reason it's going off, then you won't have to worry about it waking him up,” Luna said.
He nodded towards Professor Lupin. Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.
“I would suggest that you check to see if it was him,” Cedric said. “It would be better to be safe rather than end up surprised.”
“We could get it checked in Hogsmeade,” said Ron,
"I like how he assumes that I would be able to go, without asking if I could,” Harry said, shaking his head. “And he knows what the Dursleys are like, too.”
sitting back down. “They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff, Fred and George told me.”
“Do you know much about Hogsmeade?” asked Hermione keenly. “I’ve read it’s the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain –“
“Knowing Ronald as I do, he'll most likely want to go to where there's food,” Luna said.
“Yeah, I think it is,” said Ron in an offhand sort of way,
“It's probably more like in a 'I don't care' way,” Harry said.
“but that’s not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!”
“What’s that?” said Hermione.
“Considering that you've been friend for two years, I'm slightly surprised that you don't realize exactly what it is without asking,” Luna said.
“Must not consider him much of a friend, then,” Hermione said. “Otherwise, I would probably not need to ask that question.”
“It’s this sweetshop,” said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, “where they’ve got everything ... Pepper Imps – they make you smoke at the mouth – and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills which you can suck in class and just look like you’re thinking what to write next –“
“Those actually don't work, and certain teachers have been known to give out detentions to students who try to pull it off during class,” Cedric said.
“But Hogsmeade’s a very interesting place, isn’t it?” Hermione pressed on eagerly. “In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack’s supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain –“
“Hermione, I don't think Ron's interesting in any of that at all,” Harry said.
“I could hope. I mean, I do like you as friends, but, sometimes, I wouldn't mind having someone who, while not completely interesting in the same things I am, was interested enough that they wouldn't mind hearing the fact I spout out, or they'd be able to talk with me and understand what I'm saying, and debate with me on certain things,” Hermione said. “Basically, it would be nice to have a friend who was interested in some of the same things as I am.”
“– and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you’re sucking them,” said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.
Hermione looked around at Harry.
“You probably noticed that I'm not as excited about it as you and Ron are,” Harry said.
“Won’t it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?”
“ ’Spect it will,” said Harry heavily. “You’ll have to tell me when you’ve found out.”
“What d’you mean?” said Ron.
“I guess he probably suspects that no one in their right mind would not let you go, or something of the sort,” Cedric said.
“I don't think he can really be surprised that the Dursleys wouldn't sign it. I mean, if they could put bars on my window, a cat door on my door, and keep me locked up twenty-four-seven, them not signing the slip would be on par with their attitudes,” Harry said.
“Ron's been sheltered most of his life, and wouldn't really understand why they would say no, especially if your not in trouble,” Cedric said. “I don't think he really realizes that they'll simply be mean to be mean.”
“That, or he just doesn't think they're word really counts towards you,” Hermione said. “He could simply think that someone else could give you permission, even if it states that only a guardian can.”
“I can’t go. The Dursleys didn’t sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn’t, either.”
Ron looked horrified.
“You’re not allowed to come? But – no way – McGonagall or someone will give you permission –“
“Did he really say that?” Cedric said. “Professor McGonagall is very strict, and pretty much mostly about rules. She wouldn't break them simply so that you could enjoy Hogsmeade.”
“Plus, for all you know, it could be decided that you wouldn't be allowed to go to anyway, even if you had permission to do so,” Luna said.
“Do you really think that you should be going with Black around?” Hermione asked.
“Probably not,” Harry said, sighing. “And, unless they try to hide it, Professor McGonagall might just say straight up that it's a reason for me not to be able to go anyway.”
Harry gave a hollow laugh. Professor McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor house, was very strict.
“– or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle –“
“That would probably end up being your best bet,” Cedric said.
“Ron!” said Hermione sharply. “I don’t think Harry should be sneaking out of school with Black on the loose –“
“Yeah, I expect that’s what McGonagall will say when I ask for permission,” said Harry bitterly.
“I guess you don't like the fact that every ones treating you the way they are,” Cedric said.
“No, I don't really. Plus, I'm probably a bit jealous of you guys, and the fact that it seems like you don't want me to go,” Harry said. “I know why you said that, but I get the feeling that my desire to go is stronger than my common sense right now.”
“Good, because I would like you to be able to join us,” Hermione said. “I just rather you alive and safe over it.”
“But if we’re with him,” said Ron spiritedly to Hermione, “Black wouldn’t dare –“
“Seriously,” Harry said.
“He really shouldn't be talking rubbish,” Cedric said.
“Yeah,” Luna said. “Black's already murdered a bunch of people. Why would Ron think Black wouldn't dare attack if you two were there?”
“He could have an overstated opinion of himself,” Hermione said, shrugging. “He could think that we could take Black on, which is kind of ridiculous, if you think about it. I mean, where just entering third year, Black's got all seven years and then some behind him. Even if you don't count the fact that he probably knows a lot of curses that are not taught to us, much less mentioned, because they're considered Dark, he still knows more than we do.”
“Oh, Ron, don’t talk rubbish,” snapped Hermione. “Black’s already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street, do you really think he’s going to worry about attacking Harry just because we’re there?”
“I take it all of his talk of having Harry break the rules and possibly getting in trouble has you angry,” Luna said.
“Of course,” Hermione said. “I'm probably also angry because Harry probably doesn't seem all that concerned himself to keep from it either.”
“Hey, I care about keeping safe,” Harry said.
“I know you do. However, your book self doesn't really seem like it right now,” Hermione said.
“Well, when you think about it, another part of his frustration is that this would seem like just another thing that makes him different than everyone else,” Luna said. “No one else really has one maniac after them. And now, it seems like Harry has two. That's probably not helping keep him from being bitter.”
“She is right,” Harry said. “I would love to just be normal.”
She was fumbling with the straps of Crookshanks’s basket as she spoke.
“Ron's not going to be happy,” Harry said.
“Don’t let that thing out!”
“Did he just call my cat a thing?” Hermione said indignantly.
“He did,” Luna said, frowning.
Ron said, but too late; Crookshanks leapt lightly from the basket, stretched, yawned, and sprang onto Ron’s knees; the lump in Ron’s pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.
“He must really want that rat,” Cedric said.
“Yeah, but not as bad Ron's making it. I mean, he didn't go after Ron with his claws,” Harry said.
“Get out of it!”
“Ron, don’t!” said Hermione angrily.
Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.
“Somehow, I don't think it was an accident that he moved,” Hermione said.
“I think we found the source of the Sneakoscope's problem,” Cedric said. “The new teacher's faking sleep.”
“I wonder why he's on the train, though,” Luna said. “Especially since it isn't a normal deal.”
The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned towards Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron’s top pocket.
“Poor Ron,” Harry said, chuckling a bit. “He's going to have his hair standing up on end from Crookshanks' eyes staring at him.”
“And Scabbers is probably the same way,” Hermione said.
At one o’clock the plump witch with the food trolley arrived at the compartment door.
“D’you think we should wake him up?” Ron asked awkwardly, nodding towards Professor Lupin. “He looks like he could do with some food.”
“He could probably use sleep more than food,” Cedric said.
Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.
“Er – Professor?” she said. “Excuse me – Professor?”
He didn’t move.
“I guess he's either still tired, or he's just not feeling up to eating. That, or he doesn't know how to fake waking up from sleeping,” Hermione said.
“Don’t worry, dear,” said the witch, as she handed Harry a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. “If he’s hungry when he wakes, I’ll be up front with the driver.”
“That's good to know,” Cedric said.
“I suppose he is asleep?” said Ron quietly, as the witch slid the compartment door closed. “I mean – he hasn’t died, has he?”
“He must've not moved for quite a while, then,” Hermione said.
“No, no, he’s breathing,” whispered Hermione, taking the Cauldron Cake Harry passed her.
He might not be very good company, but Professor Lupin’s presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps in the corridor again, and their three least favourite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his cronies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.
“Great, it's them,” Harry said.
“Does he purposely look for you?” Hermione said.
“Probably. And he most likely wants to cause trouble, too,” Harry said.
“I think we need to learn a charm that'll make him unable to find you on the train, then,” Luna said. “Otherwise, you won't be getting any privacy from him. Particularly because part of the reason he most likely does that is so that he could hopefully do something that could hurt you without having to worry about anything. I mean, other than the one witch, and, most likely, the person driving the train, it's all kids on the train.”
“No adult supervision means that he could kind of do whatever he wanted, and then act innocent later on,” Hermione said.
Draco Malfoy and Harry had been enemies ever since they had met on their very first train journey to Hogwarts. Malfoy, who had a pale, pointed, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team, the same position that Harry played on the Gryffindor team. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to exist to do Malfoy’s bidding.
“It does seem that way, doesn't it?” Hermione said, laughing a bit.
They were both wide and muscly; Crabbe was the taller, with a pudding-basin haircut and a very thick neck; Goyle had short, bristly hair and long, gorilla arms.
“Well, look who it is,” said Malfoy in his usual lazy drawl, pulling open the compartment door. “Potty and the Weasel.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Like he hadn't heard that before. Once again, Malfoy was proving to be a lot like Dudley was.
Crabbe and Goyle chuckled trollishly.
And they're acting like those members of Dudley's gang do as well Harry thought.
“I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley,” said Malfoy. “Did your mother die of shock?”
“He shouldn't talk about another family that way, unless he's prepared to let them talk about his,” Hermione said.
Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks’s basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort.
“Who’s that?” said Malfoy, taking an automatic step backwards as he spotted Lupin.
“New teacher,” Hermione said. “Meaning you can't do anything you were hoping to do.”
“New teacher,” said Harry, who had got to his feet, too, in case he needed to hold Ron back. “What were you saying, Malfoy?”
Malfoy’s pale eyes narrowed; he wasn’t fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher’s nose.
“Which is why he makes sure no ones there. That, or he just makes sure that Professor Snape is right around the corner,” Cedric said.
“C’mon,” he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.
Harry and Ron sat down again, Ron massaging his knuckles.
“I’m not going to take any rubbish from Malfoy this year,” he said angrily. “I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I’m going to get hold of his head and –“
“So, basically, he's going to attempt to do exactly what Malfoy wants him to do,” Hermione said.
“Malfoy is rather good at getting his temper going,” Harry said.
I wonder if he's going to figure out how to get your temper going at some point,” Luna said.
Ron made a violent gesture in mid-air.
“Ron,” hissed Hermione, pointing at Professor Lupin, “be careful ...”
'He's not only asleep, but Ron is allowed to make threats, so long as he doesn't follow through with them,” Cedric said.
But Professor Lupin was still fast asleep.
The rain thickened as the train sped yet further north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.
“Did he not sleep at all the previous night?” Hermione asked.
“Seems that way,” Cedric said.
“We must be nearly there,” said Ron, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.
The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.
“Brilliant,” said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. “I’m starving, I want to get to the feast ...”
“We can’t be there yet,” said Hermione, checking her watch.
“Then why is the train stopping? I mean, as far as I know, it doesn't stop anywhere but where you usually board and depart,” Cedric said.
“It could have something to do with the chapter title,” Luna said.
“But why there, in the middle of no where?” Hermione asked. “I mean, only students are on the train...”
“I get the feeling that it's supposed to be a search, but that there's a good chance that whoever set said search up is hoping for a few little...accidents,” Cedric said.
“That's why Professor Lupin's there,” Harry said. “If a search was planned, then chances are that Professor Dumbledore would like it if there was someone there to keep the students safe. Which also means that at least this teacher is a bit more competent than the previous two.”
“Possibly,” Hermione said.
“So why’re we stopping?”
The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.
Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.
“We're not the only ones wondering what's going on,” Hermione said.
The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.
“What’s going on?” said Ron’s voice from behind Harry.
“That's a very good question,” Cedric said. “Why would all of the lights go off when they did.”
“Maybe the Dementors don't like it,” Hermione said.
“Ouch!” gasped Hermione. “Ron, that was my foot!”
“My poor foot,” Hermione said.
“I wonder how you know it's Ron,” Harry said.
“Easy,” Hermione said. “I know where your at, and the only other person in the room is asleep at the moment.”
Harry felt his way back to his seat.
“D’you think we’ve broken down?”
“I don't think the train can break down,” Cedric said. “It mostly runs on magic, after all.”
“Dunno ...”
There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.
“There’s something moving out there,” Ron said. “I think people are coming aboard ...”
“Which is strange, because, for all you know, your on a bridge right now,” Cedric said.
The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Harry’s legs.
“Hello, Neville,” said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak.
“At least it's not his ear,” Hermione said. “That would probably hurt if you pulled him up by the ear.”
“Harry? Is that you? What’s happening?”
“In the book, we don't know any more than you do,” Hermione said.
“And we only know what we know because of the book,” Harry said.
“No idea! Sit down –“
There was a loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks.
“Ouch,” Harry said.
“I’m going to go and ask the driver what’s going on,” came Hermione’s voice.
“Somehow, I don't think that your going to make it to them,” Harry said.
"And I don't think it's a good idea for you to do that anyway," Cedric said.
Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again and then a thud and two loud squeals of pain.
“Who'd I run into?” Hermione asked.
“Who’s that?”
“Who’s that?”
“Ginny?”
“What's she doing there?” Hermione asked.
“Probably looking for her brothers,” Cedric said.
“I wonder which of her brothers she was looking for,” Harry said.
“Hermione?”
“What are you doing?”
“I was looking for Ron –“
“I think that answers your question,” Hermione said.
“Why is she looking for Ron over Percy or the twins, though?” Harry said.
“I wouldn't really be surprised if she did that because she knew that, where Ron was, she'd find you,” Luna said. “Even if she wanted to find you, she couldn't actually say she wanted to find you, because she doesn't have a reason to be looking for you, but since Ron is her brother and your best friend...”
“She can simply say she's looking for him, even if it's not actually true,” Cedric finished.
“Come in and sit down –“
“Not here!” said Harry hurriedly. “I’m here!”
“She probably pouted when you said that,” Luna said.
“Ouch!” said Neville.
“He must've been kicked or had his toes stepped on, or something,” Hermione said.
“Quiet!” said a hoarse voice suddenly.
“Seems Professor Lupin's woken up at last,” Cedric said.
Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.
There was a soft, crackling noise and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames.
“Now that sounds cool,” Harry said.
“Very cool,” Cedric said. “I wonder if I can learn to do that.”
“I know that, should we have Professor Lupin, I'll ask about it,” Hermione said.
They illuminated his tired grey face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.
“I have the feeling he's going to be at least a semi good teacher” Cedric said.
“Basically, as good as we're going to get, since it's very possible that he's still young,” Hermione said.
“Pretty much,” Cedric said. “Unless we get a retired Auror for a teacher.”
“Stay where you are,” he said, in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.
But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.
“Is it another student coming to the compartment?” Luna asked.
“Somehow, I don't think so,” Cedric said.
Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin’s hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling.
“The dementor,” Luna murmured.
Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harry’s eyes darted downwards, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water …
“Did you have to look down?” Hermione asked, looking slightly green.
“I guess I really shouldn't have,” Harry said, shivering lightly himself.
It was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harry’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of the black material.
“It probably used that to open the door,” Luna said.
And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it was trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.
An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart …
“What's it doing?” Hermione asked.
“I don't know. However, I think we're seeing why people are so afraid of them,” Harry said.
“And I don't think it's ended quite yet,” Cedric said.
Harry’s eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn’t see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downwards, the roaring growing louder …
“Your right, it hasn't ended yet,” Hermione said.
And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams.
“Whose screaming?” Luna asked.
“I don't know,” Harry said.
He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn’t ... a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him –
“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”
“I think it's over now,” Hermione said.
Someone was slapping his face.
“Who slapped me?” Harry asked.
“Don't know,” Hermione said. “If were lucky, it'll be mentioned in the book.”
“It probably would have already said who it was if that was going to happen,” Cedric said.
“W-what?”
“Why did I need to be slapped, and why is are you and Ron panicking, anyway?” Harry asked.
“I think, whatever it was that the Dementor was doing, only affected you the way it was described,” Hermione said. “Or, rather, it effected you in a different way compared to how it affected the rest of us.”
Harry opened his eyes. There were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking –
“How come you know the floors shaking?” Luna asked.
“Seems the train and lights are back on,” Cedric said.
the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor.
“Oh, that's how you know,” Luna said.
Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching.
“That must've been frightening to see,” Hermione said.
Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face.
Ron and Hermione heaved him back onto his seat.
“Why are you so weak?” Luna asked.
“Are you OK?” Ron asked nervously.
“It must've been horribly to see what they did to you, along with feeling whatever they did to us as well,” Hermione said.
“Yeah,” said Harry, looking quickly towards the door. The hooded creature had vanished.
“I don't think the lights would be on and the train moving if it was still there,” Cedric said.
“What happened? Where’s that – that thing? Who screamed?”
“No one screamed,” said Ron, more nervously still.
“But Harry heard screaming,” Luna said.
“Maybe it's something that the Dementors do,” Hermione said. “Maybe, because they seem to effect him a lot, they made him think there was screaming.”
“That's possible,” Cedric said.
Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale.
“I wonder what they heard,” Hermione said. “Since I doubt they'd be pale because you fainted.”
“But I heard screaming –“
A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.
“Did he have to scare us like that?” Hermione said.
“I wonder why he's doing that,” Luna said. “Is he planning on eating it in front of you?”
“Here,” he said to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. “Eat it. It’ll help.”
“Apparently, he plans on giving it to us,” Harry said.
“I wonder if it does help,” Cedric said.
“Of course it will,” Hermione said. “It's chocolate.”
Harry took the chocolate but didn’t eat it.
“What was that thing?” he asked Lupin.
“A Dementor,” said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. “One of the Dementors of Azkaban.”
Everyone stared at him.
“I don't think any of us were thinking that we'd see one of the Demenors,” Harry said.
“No, I don't think we were,” Hermione said.
Professor Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.
“Eat,” he repeated. “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me ...”
“I doubt he's just going to speak to the driver,” Hermione said.
“Yeah, he most likely is planning to send a letter to the school,” Luna said.
“Especially with the reaction Harry here had,” Cedric said.
“So I'm going to have a committee waiting for me when we get to the school, oh joy,” Harry said, sighing. “I definitely won't like that.”
“I wonder whose going to be your welcoming committee,” Luna said.
“I have to wonder what people are going to say if they see that,” Hermione said.
“All I know is that I hope it doesn't get out that I fainted, because I doubt people will be all that understanding,” Harry said. “Plus, unless you know a lot about Dementors, it doesn't seem to be the regular response.”
“As much as your going to hate me saying this, I have the feeling that it will get around,” Hermione said.
Harry groaned. “Couldn't you have at least let me dream before it gets read?” He asked, a bit of a whine in his voice.
“Could, yes,” Hermione said. “Want to get your hope up, not.”
“Meanie,” Harry said.
He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.
“Are you sure you’re OK, Harry?” said Hermione, watching Harry anxiously.
“I'm probably worried that he might have another episode, or something,” Hermione said.
“I don’t get it ... what happened?” said Harry, wiping more sweat off his face.
“Well – that thing – the Dementor – stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn’t see its face)”
“It probably did, then,” Luna said.
“– and you – you –“
“I thought you were having a fit or something,” said Ron, who still looked scared. “You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching –“
“That sounds rather strange,” Hermione said. “What was that Dementor doing to you?”
“Don't know, but, upon reading this, I definitely know that I don't want to be in the company of a Dementor,” Harry said.
“And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked towards the Dementor, and pulled out his wand,” said Hermione. “And he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' ”
“Is that why the Dementor was there, to search the train for Black?” Luna asked.
“Seems so,” Hermione said. “How they expect him to sneak on board, though, I don't know.”
“So, pleasant company with the Dementors is another think I can thank Black for, in addition to having to watch my step and not being given a break to go to Hogsmeade,” Harry said. “If this really does happen, I'm going to hate Black, for more than what I already dislike him for.”
“But the Dementor didn’t move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned round and sort of glided away ...”
“He did whatever spell is used to chase a Dementor away,” Cedric said.
“I wonder if he'll be willing to teach me, especially with the fact that they affect me so badly,” Harry said.
“I don't see why he wouldn't,” Hermione said.
“It was horrible,” said Neville, in a higher voice than usual. “Did you feel how cold it went when it came in?”
“So we know that I wasn't the only one who felt it. At least, I wasn't the only one who felt cold,” Harry said.
“I felt weird,” said Ron, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. “Like I’d never be cheerful again ...”
Ginny, who was huddled in her corner looking nearly as bad as Harry felt, gave a small sob;
“I wonder what the Dementor did for her,” Hermione said.
Hermione went over and put a comforting arm around her.
“But didn’t any of you – fall off your seats?” said Harry awkwardly.
“No,” said Ron, looking anxiously at Harry again. “Ginny was shaking like mad, though ...”
“Which probably means that, after you, she was affected pretty badly compared to the rest of us, though not as badly as you are,” Hermione said.
Harry didn’t understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he was recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?
“Until we know what it is that the Dementors do, we won't know the answer to that question,” Hermione said.
Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around and said, with a small smile, “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know ...”
“It appears that none of us trust the chocolate,” Harry said.
“I kind of thought we'd already eaten it; or, rather, all of us except for you, Harry,” Hermione said.
Harry took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes.
“See, told you chocolate made everything better,” Hermione said.
“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” said Professor Lupin. “Are you all right, Harry?”
Harry didn’t ask how Professor Lupin knew his name.
“Of course not. We were just saying it,” Hermione said.
“I don't think that's quite what's going through my mind when I think that,” Harry said.
“Fine,” he muttered, embarrassed.
“What a way to make an impression on the new teacher,” Harry said, shaking his head.
They didn’t talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get out; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville’s pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat.
“Why does he have it under his hat?” Hermione asked.
It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.
“That's got to be cold,” Cedric said.
“Firs’-years this way!” called a familiar voice. Harry, Ron and Hermione turned and saw the gigantic outline of Hagrid at the other end of the platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.
“I'd hate to be them,” Hermione said. “Having to go across the lake in this weather.”
“All righ’, you three?” Hagrid yelled over the heads of the crowd. They waved at him, but had no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform.
“I wish we go actually go and say hello to him,” Harry said.
Harry, Ron and Hermione followed the rest of the school out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Harry could only assume, by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside one and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.
“I think that's true,” Cedric said. “Though, there are a few I've heard of a few students who say that they can seem something pulling the coach.”
The coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. Harry felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Ron and Hermione kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again.
'I think, so long as I'm not in the presence of a Dementor, I'll be fine,” Harry said.
As the carriage trundled towards a pair of magnificent wrought-iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars, Harry saw two more towering, hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side.
“Right, there supposed to be guarding the school now,” Harry said. “This year is going to be bad.”
“Actually, it might not be,” Hermione said. “So long as they stay out of the school, and you stay in, you should be fine.”
“I guess it's a good thing I'm not going to Hogsmeade, then,” Harry said. “Otherwise, I'd have to pass by them a whole lot.”
A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leant back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed through the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; Hermione was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt, and Hermione and Ron got out.
As Harry stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear.
“Oh, no, why do I not like the sound of that,” Harry said.
“Because the story probably got out all ready,” Hermione said.
“But who told him?” Harry asked.
“You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?”
“Neville did? But why?” Harry asked.
“Maybe it was an accident. I mean, Neville could could have asked Professor Lupin why you fainted, and Malfoy could have overheard,” Cedric said.
Malfoy elbowed past Hermione to block Harry’s way up the stone steps to the castle, his face gleeful and his pale eyes glinting maliciously.
“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, whose jaw was clenched.
“It appears that even when Malfoy's not talking to Ron he gets irritated,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
“Of course,” Cedric said. “The Malfoys and the Weasleys are, after all, rivals.”
“Did you faint as well, Weasley?” said Malfoy loudly. “Did the scary old Dementor frighten you, too, Weasley?”
“Great, it's definitely going to get around that someone fainted, other than Ron,” Harry said.
“And, probably soon, it's going to be known that that person is you,” Hermione said.
“Is there a problem?” said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just got out of the next carriage.
“That's kind of lucky,” Hermione said.
Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the dilapidated suitcase.
“He's going to rude, isn't he?” Hermione said.
“Yup,” Cedric said.
“How did I know?” Hermione groaned.
With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, “Oh, no – er – Professor,”
“That wasn't too bad,” Harry said.
“Mostly because he can't do what he probably wants to do without getting into trouble. Still doesn't mean that he's not going to do as much as he can to be rude,” Cedric said.
“We'll most likely hear worse when Malfoy's not in earshot of anyone who'll stop him,” Hermione added.
then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle, and led them up the steps into the castle.
Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, and into the cavernous Entrance Hall, which was lit with flaming torches and housed a magnificent marble staircase which led to the upper floors.
The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Harry followed the crowd towards it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, “Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!”
“Who wants us?” Hermione asked.
“Don't know, but I get the feeling that your going to be missing out on the sorting again,” Cedric said.
“Well, that sucks,” Harry said. “It would be interesting to see another sorting, after all.”
Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher and Head of Gryffindor house, was calling over the heads of the crowd.
“Well, if she wants you, Hermione, perhaps she wants to discuss something about your schedule for the year,” Cedric said.
“And, of course, we already know why she wants to talk to me,” Harry said.
“But why right now? I mean, doesn't she have to be there for the sorting?” Hermione said.
“Maybe they have another teacher do the sorting instead, when she can't,” Cedric said.
“But who?” Harry asked. Cedric shrugged.
She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. Harry fought his way over to her with a feeling of foreboding; Professor McGonagall had a way of making him feel he must have done something wrong.
“Well, considering that you kind of do seem to be doing a lot of wrong things in the previous books – even if they are for good reasons – I can see why it would appear like that,” Luna said.
“There’s no need to look so worried – I just want a word in my office,” she told them.
“That does make it sound as if there is a reason to worry,” Harry said.
“Move along there, Weasley.”
'Yeah, I definitely think your being asked to go with because of your schedule for the year,” Luna said.
Ron stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry and Hermione away from the chattering crowd;
“He's probably wondering why you two are needed,” Luna said. "And why he's not privvy to going himself."
“It's not exactly hard to guess why,” Hermione said. “At least, Harry's reason isn't.”
“Our book selves don't seem to have picked it up,” Harry pointed out.
“True,” Hermione said, sighing.
they accompanied her across the Entrance Hall, up the marble staircase and along a corridor.
Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, “Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Potter.”
“I'm not ill,” Harry said. “I'm feeling much better, and, once I get some food in me, I'll probably feel great.”
Before Harry could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the matron, came bustling in.
Harry groaned. “They just made sure that they're rather prepared without waiting for me to confirm or deny, didn't they?” he said.
“Well, they probably suspected that you'd lie,” Hermione said. “I don't think you'd want to say how your really feeling, especially after how ashamed you seem at fainting in the first place.”
Harry felt himself going red in the face. It was bad enough that he’d passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss.
“See?” Hermione said.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I don’t need anything –“
“Yeah, the chocolate seems to have completely gotten rid of any side effect the Dementor left,” Harry said.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” said Madam Pomfrey,
“You've got to like how she says that,” Cedric said. “It's likes she's not really surprised to know that it's you who she's seeing.”
“I think that means that I see her way to often,” Harry said.
ignoring this and bending down to stare closely at him.
“I don't think she actually trusts what you said,” Hermione said.
“I suppose you’ve been doing something dangerous again?”
“I haven't been doing anything,” Harry said.
“Yeah, this time, you're completely innocent,” Cedric said.
“It was a Dementor, Poppy,” said Professor McGonagall.
They exchanged a dark look and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.
“Having those things around the school is pure idiocy,” Harry said. He really didn't like the way it described how he would feel around them.
“Yeah. Who came up with the bright idea of having those things around a school full of mostly innocent children?” Hermione asked.
“Probably the Minister,” Cedric said.
“Well, I wonder what the Minister is going to do should those things actually attack someone,” Hermione said.
“Setting Dementors around a school,” she muttered, pushing Harry’s hair back and feeling his forehead.
“That's going to be annoying,” Harry said.
“He won’t be the last one who collapses. Yes, he’s all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate –“
“I'm not delicate!” Harry said crossly, looking at the others as if daring them to disagree. None of them said anything, though they did look ready to burst out laughing at his attitude. Once Harry was sure they wouldn't say anything, he looked back at the book, blinking as he saw what the next line was.
“I’m not delicate!” said Harry crossly.
'No need to repeat yourself,” Cedric said. “We heard you the first time.”
“Of course you’re not,” said Madam Pomfrey absent-mindedly, now taking his pulse.
The other three chuckled, both at what Madam Pomfrey had said and the look on Harry's face as he read that.
“But she's the one who called me delicate,” Harry said. “Why would she agree with me?”
“Probably because she's not really listening to you,” Hermione said.
“What does he need?” said Professor McGonagall crisply. “Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?”
“No,” Harry said. “I'd hate to see what Malfoy would do if it got out that I was in the hospital wing.”
“I’m fine!” said Harry, jumping up. The idea of what Draco Malfoy would say if he had to go to the hospital wing was torture.
“I think we're seeing signs of you and book Harry being the same,” Hermione said. “And we haven't actually met this Malfoy yet, either.”
“Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least,” said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry’s eyes.
“She's just not giving up, is she?” Harry said.
“She's the nurse,” Cedric said. “It's her job to take care of everyone.”
“I’ve already had some,” said Harry. “Professor Lupin gave me some. He gave it to all of us.”
“Did he, now?” said Madam Pomfrey approvingly.
“I have the feeling that she's going to like Professor Lupin more than she liked Lockhart,” Hermione said.
“Particularly since Professor Lupin seems to know what to give you after a Dementor attack, and probably actually knows some basic healing tactics,” Luna said.
“Either way, it means that he's got Madam Pomfrey's approval,” Cedric said.
“So we’ve finally got a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies.”
“Are you sure you feel all right, Potter?” said Professor McGonagall sharply.
“She doesn't want you lying,” Hermione said.
“Well, I'm alright,” Harry said.
“Yes,” said Harry.
“Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her timetable, then we can go down to the feast together.”
“Hey, that's not fair,” Harry said. “Why do you get to listen in on my conversation, but I can't do the same?”
“I think Professor McGonagall must have something important to tell her that she's not to tell anyone else,” Cedric said.
“And, knowing a bit on how I still am now, I won't be telling you unless I have no other choice,” Hermione said. “I, myself, have begun to change. My book self has only done a bare minimum.”
Harry went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself.
“She's probably wondering when she's going to see you this year, and what for,” Hermione said.
He only had to wait a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something,
“I have the feeling that Professor McGonagall has arranged for you to take all of the classes,” Harry said.
“Most likely,” Hermione said.
followed by Professor McGonagall, and the three of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.
It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long house tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick,
“So that's who does it when Professor McGonagall is unavailable to do the sorting,” Harry said.
“I wonder why he's the one who does it,” Hermione said. “I mean, why doesn't Professor Sprout do it?”
“I think it's because Professor Flickwick is a senior to Professor Sprout, and most likely to become Hogwarts next Deputy when Dumbledore retires and Professor McGonagall becomes Headmistress,” Cedric said.
“You say that like it's inevitable that she's going to be the Headmistress,” Hermione said.
“It kind of is,” Cedric said. “It just seems that every Deputy Head becomes the successor when the current Head decides to retire. I've yet to really hear of it not happening that way.”
who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the Hall.
“You must've been in there for quite a while, then,” Cedric said.
“Oh,” said Hermione softly, “we’ve missed the Sorting!”
New students at Hogwarts were sorted into houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the house they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin).
“Or the house that they want to be in, whether they're suitably for it or not,” Harry said. “Can't forget that choice can play a part of it, after all.”
Professor McGonagall strode off towards her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry and Hermione set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, towards the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the Hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Had the story of him collapsing in front of the Dementor travelled that fast?
“Yes,” Cedric said. “You'd be surprised at how fast things like that can travel.”
“Of course, I have a feeling that the story was probably mangles quite a bit,” Hermione said.
“Most likely,” Cedric agreed.
He and Hermione sat down on either side of Ron, who had saved them seats.
“What was all that about?” he muttered to Harry.
“I have the feeling he's more concerned as to why you were sent than why Hermione had to go with,” Luna said.
“Why do you say that?” Hermione asked.
“Because, when it comes to the point of the story that Harry was sent from the room so that Professor McGonagall could talk to you, he won't ask you what happened in your meeting with her,” Luna said.
“That's probably true,” Cedric said. “I wouldn't be surprised, anyway.”
“Well, if Harry wasn't allowed to know, I doubt Ron will,” Hermione said “So it'll save me from having to hide it if he doesn't asked.”
Harry started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the Headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.
Professor Dumbledore, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy.
“Which, I have to wonder how he's able to do that,” Hermione said.
He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, half-moon spectacles and an extremely crooked nose. He was often described as the greatest wizard of the age, but that wasn’t why Harry respected him.
“Though it probably helps,” Harry said.
“Do you respect him?” Hermione asked.
“I'm not sure,” Harry said. “I think I'm rather confused a bit on that front. What about you? Do you respect him?”
“No, not really,” Hermione said. “There's too much about him that we've been reading about that makes it kind of hard for me to really respect him. Of course, my book self probably respects him.”
“I think my opinion has definitely changed about him,” Cedric said.
“Mine too,” Luna said. “Like Harry, I'm a bit confused. I do know, however, that it definitely has changed from what it was.”
You couldn’t help trusting Albus Dumbledore, and as Harry watched him beaming around at the students, he felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.
“I think that's a part of the reason why I'm so confused. My book self seems to look up to him quite a bit,” Harry murmured. “And, while he's done some bad things, there are still the good things he's done.”
“I suppose,” Hermione said, though her voice was doubtful.
“Welcome!” said Dumbledore, the candlelight shimmering on his beard.
“I wonder if he charms it so that it does that,” Luna said.
“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast ...”
“He's going to mention about the Dementors, since it's really important to,” Harry said.
Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.”
“At the insistence of an idiot,” Harry muttered.
He paused, and Harry remembered what Mr. Weasley had said about Dumbledore not being happy with the Dementors guarding the school.
“Considering what happened on the train, I'd say his dislike and unhappiness is well warranted,” Hermione said. “I have to wonder why the Ministry employs those creatures.”
“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,”
'I doubt that's true,” Cedric said. “There's probably not stationed at the secret passages to outside of the castle.”
“There are secret passages outside of the castle,” Hermione said, sounding interested.
“I would imagine so,” Cedric said. “I know the twins have gotten things from Honeydukes, after all.”
Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises – or even Invisibility Cloaks,”
“I think he purposely added that so that you didn't do anything stupid, Harry,” Hermione said.
“I think so too,” Harry said, frowning. “And here I was, thinking I'd just use the cloak to get to Hogsmeade.”
“No you weren't,” Luna said.
“No, I wasn't,” Harry said “But I bet it passed through the mind of my book self.”
he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. “It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you.”
“I get the feeling they don't need a reason, that they'll just try to do so anyway,” Cedric said.
“I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors.”
“Percy's probably going to puff up like a peacock again,” Hermione said.
Percy, who was sitting a few seats along from Harry, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively.
“Seems you were right,” Cedric said, shaking his head.
Dumbledore paused again; he looked very seriously around the Hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.
“Happier news is probably next,” Hermione said.
“On a happier note,” he continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year”
“Looks like we were right about Hagrid,” Luna said.
“He hasn't said that yet,” Hermione pointed out.
“But it makes sense that Hagrid would be one of these new teachers,” Luna said.
“True,” Hermione said.
“Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
There was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic, applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard, Harry among them.
“He seemed nice, and he helped us out, of course we're going to be clapping hard,” Harry said.
Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes.
“I hope that he gets paid well,” Hermione said. “He seems like he could use the money to buy some new robes.”
“Look at Snape!” Ron hissed in Harry’s ear.
Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin. It was common knowledge that Snape wanted the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, but even Harry, who hated Snape, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It was beyond anger: it was loathing.
“There's history between the two,” Hermione said. “There has to be if he's looking at Professor Lupin like that. And, whatever history it is, it's bad.”
“So we've found someone else whom Snape hates just as much as he hates me,” Harry said. “Wow.”
Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry.
“Which, you know, I don't get,” Harry said. “They haven't answered why he hates me so much.”
“Perhaps we'll get lucky, and it'll do so soon. That, or our...I don't know what to call them, our future selves, or our...warden..” Hermione started.
“You mean T. C. H.,” Luna said. Hermione nodded.
“Yeah, may she'll deem to tell us why that is,” she said.
“I don't think so,” Cedric said. “She probably would have by now if that was true, after all.”
“Yeah,” Luna said. “She seems determined not to let anything slip before it's mentioned in the books. And I get the feeling she'll stop your future selves from doing that as well.”
There was a small flash as a piece of parchment floated from the ceiling. Luna reached out and grabbed it, smiling lightly as she read it.
“What does it say?” Hermione asked.
“Oh, just that I'm right,” Luna said. 'She is stopping them from giving anything way. Says it better if we figured it out as we read, rather than have all the answered handed to us, especially since we'd probably miss something that could be important if it was like that.”
“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued, as the lukewarm applause for Professor Lupin died away, “well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs.”
“That just inspires confidence in you, doesn't it” Hermione said.
“However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”
“And there's our confirmation that Hagrid is now a teacher,” Luna said.
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared at each other, stunned. Then they joined in with the applause, which was tumultuous at the Gryffindor table in particular.
“Of course it is,” Hermione said. “I do believe that most of us know Hagrid the best, after all.”
Harry leant forward to see Hagrid, who was ruby red in the face
“He probably wasn't expecting such a large cheer for him,” Cedric said.
and staring down at his enormous hands, his wide grin hidden in the tangle of his black beard.
“It's probably a dream come true for him,” Harry said.
“We should’ve known!” Ron roared, pounding the table. “Who else would have set us a biting book?”
“And that's the clue that made us believe that it was him who was the teacher,” Hermione said. “I can only see Hagrid putting a book that bites you on the list.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione were the last to stop clapping,
“You are among his best friends, after all,” Cedric said.
and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, they saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.
“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” said Dumbledore. “Let the feast begin!”
The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Harry, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat.
“I wonder why I was suddenly ravenous,” Harry murmured.
It was a delicious feast; the Hall echoed with talk, laughter and the clatter of knives and forks. Harry, Ron and Hermione, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Hagrid.
“To congratulate him on his achievement,” Hermione said.
They knew how much being made a teacher would mean to him. Hagrid wasn’t a fully qualified wizard; he had been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, for a crime he had not committed.
“Which was completely wrong of them to do,” Luna said. “Just because the person who turned him in seemed to be a perfectly alright person.”
It had been Harry, Ron and Hermione who had cleared Hagrid’s name last year.
At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.
“Congratulations, Hagrid!” Hermione squealed, as they reached the teachers’ table.
“He definitely deserves it,” Cedric said. “And I can't really think of anyone better for the position, either.”
“All down ter you three,” said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them. ‘”an’ believe it ... great man, Dumbledore ... came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he’d had enough ... it’s what I always wanted ...”
Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed them away.
“Why'd she do that?” Harry said. “We were just talking to your friend.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower. A large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, “Password?”
“Coming through, coming through!” Percy called from behind the crowd. “The new password’s Fortuna Major!”
“You know, I have to wonder how they come up with the passwords for us,” Hermione said.
“I think the portraits do it,” Cedric said. “Them, or the teachers.”
“Oh no,” said Neville Longbottom sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.
Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided towards their separate staircases. Harry climbed the spiral stairs with no thought in his head except how glad he was to be back.
They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds and Harry, looking around, felt he was home at last.
“That's the end of the chapter,” Harry said, handing the book over to Hermione. Before she could turn to the next page, there was the sound of someone's stomach growling. She looked over towards the sound.
“Hungry already?” she asked, then looked at the clock. Unlike the other two books, they seemed to be taking more time reading this one – and interrupting it often – so that, even though they'd only read five chapters of it, it was already noon.
“I guess,” Cedric said. I can -”
Before he could finish what he was going to say, the sound of another stomach growling interrupted him.
“I think we should just eat now,” Luna said, eyeing her own stomach.
“I guess,” Hermione said, frowning a bit, since they hadn't gotten as far into the book as they had with the previous one, and they were already deciding to take a break to eat. Still, she placed a bookmark at where the next chapter was, and stood up with the others, following them into the kitchen.
They were quick in deciding what to eat, and Harry was the one who prepared the food this time. After eating, they retreated back to the reading room, where Hermione picked the book back up, and opened it.