PRIORI INCANTATEM

6. Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Harry packed his trunk up in the dormitory on the night before his return to wherever he was going to spend his vacations. He was impatiently waiting for the Leaving Feast, when the winner of the Inter-House Championship would be announced.

When he, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hall, they saw that the Great Hall was decorated in red and gold for the Leaving Feast. Harry felt a lighter and brighter to see Gryffindor winning the House Cup for fourth year in row. Given this, the Gryffindor table was the loudest and the cheeriest of all. Harry could see Draco Malfoy sulking at the Slytherin table.

The real Mad-Eye Moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. He was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. Harry couldn't blame him; Moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk.

The weather could not have been more different on the journey back to King's Cross than it had been on their way to Hogwarts the previous September — when it had been raining heavily — to put it lightly. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky today. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had managed to get a compartment to themselves.

Pigwidgeon was once again hidden under Ron's dress robes to stop him from hooting continually; Hedwig was dozing, her head under her wing, and Crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward, and played a number of rounds of Exploding Snap till the lunch trolley arrived.

When Hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she began telling them about Rita Skeeter being an unregistered Animagus. She was still going on when the compartment door opened.

"Very clever, Granger," said Draco Malfoy.

Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him. All three of them looked more pleased with themselves, more arrogant and more menacing, than Harry had ever seen them.

"So," said Malfoy slowly, advancing slightly into the compartment and looking slowly around at them, a smirk quivering on his lips. "You caught some pathetic reporter, and Potter's Dumbledore's favorite boy again. Big deal."

His smirk widened. Crabbe and Goyle leered.

"Get out," said Harry, as he gripped his wand under his robes.

"You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you, you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" He jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! They'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's ba—"

It was as though someone had exploded a box of fireworks within the compartment. Blinded by the blaze of the spells that had blasted from every direction, deafened by a series of bangs, Harry blinked and looked down at the floor.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were all lying unconscious in the doorway. He, Ron, and Hermione were on their feet, all three of them having used a different hex. Nor were they the only ones to have done so.

"Thought we'd see what those three were up to," said Fred matter-of-factly, stepping onto Goyle and into the compartment. He had his wand out, and so did George, who was careful to tread on Malfoy as he followed Fred inside.

"Interesting effect," said George, looking down at Crabbe. "Who used the Furnunculus Curse?"

"Me," said Harry.

"Odd," said George lightly. "I used Jelly-Legs. Looks as though those two shouldn't be mixed. He seems to have sprouted little tentacles all over his face. Well, let's not leave them here, they don't add much to the decor."