THE TRUTH UNTOLD | Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

𝘅𝗶𝗶𝗶 | 𝗵𝗼𝗴𝘀𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲

  'Is that an ogre?' Hermione asked. Gwen shrugged. She hadn't realised the weird and wonderful people that frequented the pub. Looking around, she could see several witches and wizards that weren't too kind to look at, several of them looking half like strange creatures.

  Madame Rosmerta, the barmaid, came over to clear away their glasses, and Gwen asked if they could take a goblet of Butterbeer back to the castle.

  'Do you have a bottle?' she asked. 'Ah, unfortunately, no, then. We don't do takeaway here.'

  She was a pretty witch, probably in her late thirties, with blonde hair curled in a 1940s style and wearing a white blouse with a long skirt and an apron tied around her waist. As she walked away, Gwen caught Ron staring at her just a little too long.

  'Seen something you like?' she grinned. Ron's ears went red.

  'Shut up,' he murmured.

  The three of them went from the Three Broomsticks to several more shops, lugging their shopping around. Despite the chilly breeze, they were sweating from the exertion. As the time to go back to the carriages came around, they managed to get a brief look at teh Shrieking Shack, a shabby, old, abandoned house that none of them wanted to get any closer to.

  They were grateful to put their bags down as they got into an empty carriage, out of breath and sweating from the effort. They chatted idly as the carriages took them back to the castle, then lugged their bags back up to the Entrance Hall and made their way to the common room.

  Harry was waiting for them when they entered, filtering through the portrait hole with the rest of the Gryffindor students who were buzzing excitedly from the trip. They dumped Harry's bag on the table in front of him, sinking into the spare armchairs.

  'Thank you!' said Harry as the colourful sweets fell out of the bag. 'What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?'

  The three of them launched into their story, telling him about the shops, the Three Broomsticks, the Shrieking Shack.

  'Oh, try this one Harry,' Gwen said, handing him the stripy bag with the fudge. 'They were handing out free samples in Honeydukes--'

  'Oh, the post office, Harry,' Hermione said. 'About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all colour coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!'

  'Honeydukes was brilliant,' said Ron. 'Try this,--' He pushed the bag of Pepper Imps toward Harry.

  'We think we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks--'

  'Wish we could've brought you Butterbeer, really warms you up--'

  'What did you do?' said Hermione, looking anxious. 'Did you get any work done?'

  'No,' said Harry. 'Lupin made me a cup of tea in his office. Then Snape came in...'

  He told them of how Snape entered with a smoking goblet, and how calmly Lupin had drank it. Harry said Lupin had been almost gagging as he did so, and how, when he had finally finished it, the goblet had still been steaming.

  'Lupin actually drank it?' said Ron, his mouth having fallen wide open. 'Is he mad?'

  Hermione checked her watch. 'We'd better go down, you know, the feast will be starting in five minutes.'

  They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Snape.

  'But if he, you know...' Hermione dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, 'if he was trying to-- to poison Lupin-- he wouldn't have done it in front of Harry.'

  'Maybe,' Gwen said, mulling over the thought. She honestly wasn't sure if she'd even put the idea past Snape.

  As they reached the Entrance Hall, they noticed it had been decorated with lanterns and pumpkins. As they came into the Great Hall, they saw the wonderful Hallowe'en decorations. Hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins dotted the hall, a cloud of fluttering live bats squeaked across the stormy cieling and many orange streamers were swimming lazily between the bats.  The food was delicious. Even though Gwen, Ron and Hermione had been eating Honeydukes sweets all day, they still managed second helpings of everything. Harry kept glancing at the teachers' table, where Lupin looked as healthy as he did usually, cheerfully chatting with Professor Flitwick.

  'He seems fine,' Gwen murmured, and the other three agreed, however they couldn't help thinking that Professor Snape was flicking his narrow eyes a little too often in Lupin's direction.

  The feast finished with Hogwarts ghosts popping out of the walls and tables and gliding in formation; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor Ghost, had a great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.

  It was such a great evening that Gwen, Harry, Ron and Hermione barely even noticed Malfoy shouting through the crowd, 'The Dementors send their love, Potter!'

  The four of them followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when they reached the corridor where the portrait of the Fat Lady hung, they found a traffic jam of students.

  'Why isn't anyone going in?' said Ron curiously.

  Gwen stood on the tip of her toes, trying to peer over the heads in front of her.

  'The portrait's closed,' Harry said, who had been doing the same.

  'Let me through, please,' came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. 'What's the hold up, here? You can't all have forgotten the password-- excuse me, I'm Head Boy!'

  And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. Gwen stood on her toes again, then they heard Percy say, 'Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick.'

  People's heads turned. Those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

  'What's going on?' said Ginny, who had just arrived.

  Next moment, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through; Gwen, Harry, Ron and Hermione moved closer to see what the trouble was.

  Gwen gasped; she grabbed Harry's arm.

  The Fat Lady was gone. Her portrait was slashed, so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor; huge chunks had been torn off completely. Dumbledore took one quick look at the violated painting, then turned, his blue eyes sombre, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin and Snape hurrying towards him.

  'We need to find her,' said Dumbledore. 'Professor McGongall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.'

  'You'll be lucky!' said a cackling voice. It was Peeves, bobbing over the crowd, looking delighted as he always did at the sight of wreckage.

  'What do you mean, Peeves?' said Dumbeldore calmly. Peeves' grin faded a little; he didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead, he adopted a voice that was apparently an attempt to be dignified. It was no better than his cackle.

  'Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful,' he said happily. 'Poor thing,' he added, grinning.

  'Did she say who did it?' said Dumbledore quietly.

  'Oh, yes, Professorhead,' said Peeves, with the temperament of carrying a large bombshell in his arms. 'He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see.' Peeves flipped over, and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. 'Nasty temper, he's got. That Sirius Black.'