Slow Grenade

Chapter Thirty-Six

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, a screech owl dropped a long, cylindrical package in front of them. Harry ripped off the brown paper and out came a tightly furled copy of the March edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see his own face grinning sheepishly at him from the front cover. In large red letters across this picture were the words:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST: THE TRUTH ABOUT HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED AND THE NIGHT I SAW HIM RETURN.

Harry received a huge amount of post that day; many were scathing, but most offered their support. Hermione was ecstatic to see the look on Professor Umbridge's face and subsequent educational degree when she caught sight of the headline.

Unfortunately, she had also found out about the DA meetings. It was only through Dobby that everyone, albeit Harry, had been able to get away safely. This had led to the devastating event that was Dumbledore being replaced by the High Inquisitor.

Since then, Harry's visions had been occurring more frequently despite the Occlumency lessons. Hermione regularly encouraged him to empty his mind, but she wasn't sure whether he was practicing at all.

She and Ron had been walking down the marble staircase together one afternoon when he came running frantically towards them.

"Harry!" said Hermione at once, looking frightened. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Come with me," Harry said quickly. "I've got to tell you something."

He led them along the first-floor corridor, peering through doorways, and at last found an empty classroom into which he dived, closing the door behind them the moment they were inside. "Voldemort's got Sirius."

"What?"

"I saw it, just now," Harry told them. "When I fell asleep in my exam."

"But – but, where? How?" Hermione stuttered, her face ashen.

"I don't know, but I know exactly where. There's a room in the Department of Mysteries full of shelves covered in these little glass balls and they're at the end of row ninety-seven... Voldemort is trying to use Sirius to get whatever it is he wants from in there, he's torturing him, says he'll end by killing him."

Harry's voice was shaking as he sat down, trying to master himself. He attempted to convince her and Ron that they needed to travel to the Ministry immediately, but neither were easily convinced. Hermione tried to reason with him that Voldemort could be setting a trap.

They eventually agreed to a compromise: Ginny and Luna would create a distraction whilst Ron distracted Umbridge so that Harry could try to speak with Sirius via fire-call.

Harry's face was in the grate for barely ten minutes before Hermione heard the door behind them slam open. It was Umbridge, and she was racing towards him, suddenly grabbing a handful of his hair and dragging him backwards.

She bent his neck back as far as it would go, as though she were going to slit his throat. "You think," she whispered, "that after two Nifflers, I was going to let one more foul, scavenging little creature enter my office without my knowledge? I had Stealth Sensoring Spells placed all around my doorway, you foolish boy. Take their wands," she barked at the two Inquisitorial Squad members present.

Hermione felt herself being pulled into a familiar someone's arms.

There was a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna and, to her astonishment, Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them had been gagged.

"So, Potter," Umbridge said. "You stationed lookouts around my office, and you sent this buffoon," she nodded to Ron, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes," she took a breath before continuing, "clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid?"

The Slytherins laughed and Hermione backed further into Draco. He had his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her into his chest. His breathing was ragged, and she could feel his panic.

"It none of your business who I talk to," she heard Harry snarl.

"Very well," Umbridge replied in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Mr Potter... I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco, fetch Professor Snape."

Draco's body tightened behind Hermione before he reluctantly stepped away and ran to the dungeons.

There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resulting from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. It didn't take long before Draco's heat returned to her back and Snape marched in.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" he said softly, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," Umbridge simpered. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quickly as you can, please."

Hermione was only able to prevent her gasp because Draco was rubbing slow circles into her sides. Luckily, and for whatever reason, Snape denied having any of the potion available.

Just as he was turning to leave the office, Harry called: "He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"