LAWS OF THE STARS / h. potter

𝟏.𝟎𝟓, cosmogyral omens

"Fine. But three strikes and I'm breaking his nose."

Melody sent a glare in the direction of the Slytherins, then dropped down between Harry and George at the Gryffindor table.

"Here, new third-year course schedules," said George, passing them over. "What's up with you, Melody?"

"Malfoy," she answered simply, still frowning over at him.

George looked up in time to see Malfoy pretending to faint with terror again. "That little git," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," confirmed Fred, who was seated across from them.

"I wasn't too happy myself," George said. "They're horrible things, those dementors . . ."

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" Melody offered, attempting to shake off the temporary fury Malfoy had established.

"You two didn't pass out, though, did you?" said Harry in a low, hollow voice.

Melody cast him a concerned look. Those were the first words he had spoken this morning, and they sounded dangerously clouded with exhaustion and unease.

"Forget it, Harry," said George bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking . . . They suck the happiness out of a place, dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," said Fred. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season, remember?"

Melody's insides flooded with warmth. Quidditch, of course! If there was one thing that promised to keep her stimulated and amused, it was her position as Chaser on the team. Feeling a great deal more cheerful, she filled her plate with an absurd amount of fruit and scanned the table for a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Ron, could you pass me that paper?" she said upon locating one nearby. When Ron obliged, she frowned at the headline. "Still no reports on Sirius Black."

"No news is good news, I suppose," Fred murmured between bites of egg. "And Melody, there's no letter from Petar today, I already checked."

"I know, I still have to answer his last letter," said Melody in response, flipping through pages of the newspaper until she found the daily crossword puzzle. Fred seemed to like the role of being her personal wingman. "I'll do it tonight."

"Melody, look, we're starting some new subjects today," Hermione said happily from across the table. Her new timetable was in hand.

"Hermione," observed Ron, looking over her shoulder, "they've messed up your schedule. Look — they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough time."

"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," said Ron, chuckling, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And" — Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving — "look — underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o'clock. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's that good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," said Hermione shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."

"Well, then—"

"Pass the marmalade," said Hermione.

"But—"

"Oh, Ron, what's it to you if my schedule's a bit full?" Hermione snapped. "I told you, I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."