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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟕 *•. ┄┄
𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆
────── *•. ⚡︎ .•*──────
Hermione and Ron had to painfully sit through the rest of the exam until they were finally allowed to get out. Once they bustled out of the room and were running through a corridor, Hermione saw her specky best friend hurrying towards them too.
"Prongslet!" Hermione said throwing herself at him in a hug.
"Where have you been?" demanded Ron.
"Come with me," Harry said quickly as Hermione let go of him. "Come on, 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 Ron and Hermione the moment they were inside and leaning against it, facing them.
"Voldemort's got Sirius."
"No," Hermione said at once, but it was apparently taken the wrong way as Harry only gave her a panicked look.
"How d'you—?"
"Saw it. Just now. When I fell asleep in the exam."
"How? When?" Ron asked as he paled.
"I dunno how," said Harry. "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 . . . He's 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 . . ."
"How're we going to get there?" he asked them.
"We're not," Hermione said. "They aren't there!"
"Hermione! It's your dad!" Harry snapped at her and Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"I bloody well know that's my dad! That's why we shouldn't go!"
"And let him die?!" Harry hollered.
"No!" Hermione said shakily. "Look, I know he isn't there!"
"But you also didn't know he was your dad, did you?" Harry retorted and Hermione narrowed her eyes more. "He's dying right now and you don't even care!"
"I DO CARE!" Hermione shouted back. "It's my fucking dad. But he is not there, Harry!"
"Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air," said Ron, sounding worried. "He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages—"
"He wouldn't," Hermione persisted, "He knows what's at stake. He wouldn't just leave, at the risk of leaving me and Harry!"
"You know what, I've just thought of something," said Ron in a hushed voice. "Sirius's brother was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!"
"Yeah—and that's why Dumbledore's been so keen to keep Sirius locked up all the time!" said Harry.
"That's not it! Reggie knew things but he would sure as hell not tell my dad!" Hermione snapped at both of them. "They weren't even talking when I was born, you bloody morons, and then he died. My dad isn't in the Department of Mysteries!"
"Hermione, Harry's seen them!" said Ron, rounding on her.
"Well, Harry also thought he saw a unicorn when he first produced his Patronus, but guess what? He's a bloody manycorn!"
"You don't get it!" Harry shouted at her. "I'm not having nightmares, I'm not just dreaming! What d'you think all the Occlumency was for, why d'you think Dumbledore wanted me prevented from seeing these things? Because they're REAL, Hermione—Sirius is trapped—Your dad—I've seen him—Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows, and that means we're the only ones who can save him, and if you don't want to do it, fine, but I'm going, understand? And if I remember rightly, you didn't have a problem with my saving-people-thing when it was you I was saving from the dementors, or"—he rounded on Ron—"when it was your sister I was saving from the basilisk —"
"I never said I had a problem!" said Ron heatedly.
"That was low, Harry," Hermione said coldly, "Ron didn't even have a choice. He got stuck with a bloody moron. Like you're being right now!"
"IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN —"
"I'M TELLING YOU, HE'S NOT BLOODY THERE!"
"HERMIONE IT'S YOUR DAD —"
The classroom door opened. Harry, Ron, and Hermione whipped around. Ginny walked in, looking curious, followed by Luna, who as usual looked as though she had drifted in accidentally.
"Hi," said Ginny uncertainly. "We recognized Harry's voice—what are you yelling about?"
"Never you mind," said Harry roughly.
Ginny raised her eyebrows.
"There's no need to take that tone with me," she said coolly. "I was only wondering whether I could help."
"Well, you can't," said Harry shortly.
"You're being rather rude, you know," said Luna serenely.
Harry swore and turned away. The very last thing he wanted now was a conversation with Luna Lovegood.
"They can help!" Hermione said.
Harry and Ron looked at her.
"Listen, if you're not gonna listen to me we have to make sure I'm right—" she said, even though she knew it wouldn't give any results.
"I've told you, I saw—"
"Harry! It's my dad! I know what's at stake!" said Hermione desperately. "Please, let's just check. We have to be sure before taking off to London!"
"Sirius is being tortured NOW!" shouted Harry. "We haven't got time to waste—"
"Harry, you know me! I may be a cold-hearted bitch but I care! I wouldn't be saying this if I knew he was being tortured! He's my dad, you dipshit!"
"How?" Harry demanded. "How're we going to check?"
"Umbitch's fire," said Hermione without skipping a beat. "We need a distraction and lookouts and that's where Gigi and Luna can come in."
Though clearly struggling to understand what was going on, Ginny said immediately, "Yeah, we'll do it," and Luna said, "When you say 'Sirius,' are you talking about Stubby Boardman?"
Nobody answered her.
"Okay," Harry said aggressively to Hermione, "Okay, if you can think of a way of doing this quickly, I'm with you, otherwise I'm going to the Department of Mysteries right now—"
"The Department of Mysteries?" said Luna, looking mildly surprised. "But how are you going to get there?"
Again, they ignored her.
"Okay, " Hermione said, "One of us needs to drive the pink thing away. Tell her Peeves did something or —"
"I'll do it," said Ron at once. "I'll tell her Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration department or something, it's miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way. . . ."
"Right, you do that, Parson," she nodded, "We also need to keep students away or someone will blab. . . ."
"Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor," said Ginny promptly, "and warn people not to go down there because someone's let off a load of Garroting Gas."
"Have I told you, I love you, Gigi?" Hermione said in awe and the redhead beamed.
"Harry you and I will take the cloak and talk to dad—"
"He's not there, Dame!"
"Fine. . . . You can check if he's there. But you're not going alone cause the bitch must have high security and we wouldn't want those fabulous vocal cords to be ripped off you."
"I . . . okay, thanks," he muttered.
"But even with that we'll only have about five minutes," said Hermione even though she knew they would get caught.
"Five minutes'll be enough," said Harry. "C'mon, let's go—"
"Now?" said Ron.
"Of course now!" said Harry angrily. "What did you think, we're going to wait until after dinner or something? Sirius is being tortured right now!"
"Lay off, " Hermione snapped, "And go get the cloak!"
Harry did not answer, but flung himself out of the room and began to fight his way through the milling crowds outside.
"Got it," he panted as he met with them huddled near Umbridge's corridor. He was slightly surprised to find Blaise Zabini and Theo Nott with them though.
Hermione had bumped into them and explained how they needed their help without thinking much. Both boys agreed to help them out as lookouts.
"Ready to go, then?"
"Okay—Parson, you go and head Umbridge off. . . . " Hermione began, "Gigi, Luna, you can start moving people out of the corridor. . . . BZ, Theo you guys walk around here trying to set off any snakes (no offense). Harry and I will get the cloak on and wait until the coast is clear. . . ."
Ron strode away, his bright red hair visible right to the end of the passage. Meanwhile, Ginny's equally vivid head bobbed between the jostling students surrounding them in the other direction, trailed by Luna's blonde one. Blaise and Theo exchanged looks and also set off.
"Here," muttered Hermione, tugging at Harry's wrist and pulling him back into a recess where the ugly stone head of a medieval wizard stood muttering to itself on a column.
Harry tugged the Invisibility Cloak from out of his bag.
"Here," he said. He threw the Invisibility Cloak over both of them and they stood listening carefully over the Latin mumblings of the bust in front of them.
"You can't come down here!" Ginny was calling to the crowd. "No, sorry, you're going to have to go round by the swiveling staircase, someone's let off Garroting Gas just along here —"
They could hear people complaining; one surly voice said, "I can't see no gas . . ."
"That's because it's colorless," said Ginny in a convincingly exasperated voice, "but if you want to walk through it, carry on, then we'll have your body as proof for the next idiot who didn't believe us. . . ."
Slowly the crowd thinned. The news about the Garroting Gas seemed to have spread—people were not coming this way anymore. When at last the surrounding area was quite clear, Hermione said quietly, "Come on, Prongslet!"
Together they moved forward, covered by the cloak. Luna was standing with her back to them at the far end of the corridor. As they passed Ginny, Hermione whispered, "Good one . . . don't forget the signal, Gigi. . ."
"What's the signal?" muttered Harry, as they approached Urnbridge's door.
"'Weasley Is Our King' if they see Umbridge coming," replied Hermione, as Harry inserted the blade of Sirius's knife in the crack between door and wall. The lock clicked open, and they entered the office.
The garish kittens were basking in the late afternoon sunshine warming their plates, but otherwise, the office was as still and empty as last time.
They pulled off the cloak. Hermione hurried over to the window and stood out of sight, peering down into the grounds with her wand safely inside her shirt, held by her bra. Harry dashed over to the fireplace, seized the pot of Floo powder, and threw a pinch into the grate, causing emerald flames to burst into life there. He knelt down quickly, thrust his head into the dancing fire, and cried, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!"
But their luck was over. It all happened within seconds and Hermione didn't have the proper time to figure out what exactly was happening. Umbridge came tumbling into the office, Hermione was immediately being grabbed and Harry was being jerked out of the fireplace.
"You think," Umbridge whispered, bending Harry's neck back even farther so that he was looking up at the ceiling above him, "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 after the last one got in, you foolish boy. Take his wand," she barked and he felt a hand grope inside the chest pocket of his robes and remove the wand. "Hers too . . ."
Hermione watched Millicent Bulstrode searching her pockets and thanked God when she did not think of check inside her shirt. But then her thankfulness was cut short as the bulky girl gripped her arms locking her in.
"I want to know why you are in my office," said Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching his hair so that he staggered.
"I was—trying to get my Firebolt!" Harry croaked.
"Liar." She shook his head again. "Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?"
"No one—" said Harry, trying to pull away from her.
"Liar!" shouted Umbridge. She threw him from her, and he slammed into the desk. Malfoy was leaning on the windowsill, smirking as he threw Harry's wand into the air one-handed and then caught it again. Hermione glared at him.
There was a commotion outside and several large Slytherins entered, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, who was trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looked in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them had been gagged. Hermione noted though that Blaise and Theo weren't there which she was grateful for. If Theo had been with them in the Department of Mysteries he would get in enormous trouble at home.
"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forward into the room. "That one." he poked a thick finger at Neville, "tried to stop me taking her," he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, "so I brought him along too."
"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"
Malfoy laughed loudly and sycophantically. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.
"So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron, and Malfoy laughed even louder, "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, Mr. Filch having just informed me so.
"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone. . . ."
Malfoy and a few of the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad laughed some more at that.
"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled.
Umbridge's slack face seemed to tighten.
"Very well," she said 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."
Malfoy stowed Harry's wand inside his robes and left the room smirking.
There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resultant from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. Ron's lip was bleeding onto Umbridge's carpet as he struggled against Warrington's half nelson. Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had both her upper arms in a tight grip. Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face while tugging at Crabbe's arms, and Hermione was attempting vainly to throw Millicent Bulstrode off her while muttering curses under her breath and occasionally throwing in the recommendation of a shower or two. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.
Harry looked back at Umbridge, who was watching him closely. He kept his face deliberately smooth and blank as footsteps were heard in the corridor outside and Draco Malfoy came back into the room, holding open the door for Snape.
"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.
"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."
"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter and Granger," he said, observing her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."
Umbridge flushed.
"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.
"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."
"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"
"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."
"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"
"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter—and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did—I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling. . . ."
Snape looked back at Harry, who stared at him, frantic to communicate without words.
"You are on probation!" shrieked Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"
Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. Harry knew his last chance of letting the Order know what was going on was walking out of the door.
"He's got Padfoot!" he shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"
Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle.
"Call the Chickens, Snape!" Hermione added in retrospect. "The rooster must come back! Padfoot will perish!"
"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? Chickens? What do they mean, Snape?"
Snape looked around at Harry and Hermione. His face was inscrutable.
"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, Granger, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."
"Very well," Umbridge said after Snape left, and she pulled out her wand. "Very well . . . I am left with no alternative. . . . This is more than a matter of school discipline. . . . This is an issue of Ministry security. . . . Yes . . . yes . . ."
She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm, and breathing heavily. Harry felt horribly powerless without his own wand as he watched her.
"You are forcing me, Potter. . . . I do not want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use . . . I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice. . . ."
Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face.
"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly.
"No!" shrieked Hermione. "That's illegal, you pink blotch!"—but Umbridge took no notice. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face that Harry had never seen before. She raised her wand.
"The minister may be a moron but he wouldn't want you to break the law, toad!" said Hermione.
"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, who was now panting slightly as she pointed her wand at different parts of Harry's body in turn, apparently trying to decide what would hurt the most. "He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same. . . ."
"It was you?" gasped Harry. "You sent the dementors after me?"
"Somebody had to act," breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow—discrediting you—but I was the one who actually did something about it. . . . Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though, not now . . ."
And taking a deep breath, she cried, "Cruc—"
"NO!" shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. "Harry—oh, Harry—we must tell her!"
"No way!" yelled Harry, staring at the little of Hermione he could see.
"She'll force it out of you! Please we have to tell her—we have to! We're only children. . . ." Hermione said making her voice crack in the end and successfully making a tear fall as she sobbed weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.
"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Leather-Jacket is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"
"Da—meh—no!" shouted Ron through his gag.
Ginny was staring at Hermione as though she had never seen her before; Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her too.
"We're only children!" Hermione cried again—surprised Umbridge was even buying her act (being that she never cried during detentions and that she and McGonagall talked about her becoming an actress right in front of the toad), "I can't stand it! I'm so, so sorry. . . ."
"That's right, that's right, girl!" said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair, and leaning over her. "Now then . . . with whom was Potter communicating just now?"
"Well," gulped Hermione into her hands, "Dumbledore, " Hermione breathed out shakily.
Ron froze, his eyes wide; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor's toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and her minions was focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice these suspicious signs.
"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"
"We thought he was in the Bahamas, you see, " Hermione began weakly, "But then he wasn't, so we got panicked. So we were trying the Leaky Cauldron and—"
"Idiot girl, Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!" shouted Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face.
"But—We—there was something we needed to tell him!" wailed Hermione, looking up from her hands, her face streaked with tears.
"Yes?" said Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"
"That—that it's ready!" choked Hermione.
"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione's shoulders again and shook her slightly. "What's ready, girl?"
"The . . . the weapon," said Hermione.
"Weapon? Weapon?" said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"
"Yes," gasped Hermione meekly. "But he left and we finished it and—and we needed to tell him!"
"What kind of weapon is it?" said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.
"We don't really know," said Hermione, sniffing loudly. "We just followed orders. . . ."
Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.
"Lead me to the weapon," she said.
"I'm not showing . . . them," said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.
"It is not for you to set conditions," said Professor Umbridge harshly.
"Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again, "as you wish! I hope they use it on you! Now that I think of it why not invite the whole bloody school? If they learn how to use it they can go against you!"
These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge. She glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face.
Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment and then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly voice. "All right, dear, let's make it just you and me . . . and we'll take Potter too, shall we? Get up, now—"
"Professor," said Malfoy eagerly, "Professor Umbridge, I think some of the squad should come with you to look after—"
"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?" asked Umbridge sharply. "In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that school children should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these —she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna—"escape."
"All right," said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.
"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. "Lead on. . . ."
They headed down the corridor outside Umbridge's office, Hermione put her hand on her chest, pretending to be clutching at her heart, and felt her wand, making her grin slightly.
Hermione led the way down the stairs into the entrance hall. The din of loud voices and the clatter of cutlery on plates echoed from out of the double doors to the Great Hall.
Hermione walked straight out of the oak front doors and down the stone steps into the balmy evening air. The sun was falling toward the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest now as Hermione marched purposefully across the grass, Umbridge jogging to keep up. Their long dark shadows rippled over the grass behind them like cloaks.
"It's hidden in Hagrid's hut, is it?" said Umbridge eagerly in Harry's ear.
"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly. "Hagrid might have set it off accidentally."
"Yes," said Umbridge, whose excitement seemed to be mounting. "Yes, he would have done, of course, the great half-breed oaf. . . ."
She laughed.
"Then . . . where is it?" asked Umbridge, with a hint of uncertainty in her voice as Hermione continued to stride toward the forest.
"In the forest," said Hermione, pointing into the dark trees. "It had to be someplace the students wouldn't find by accident."
"Of course," said Umbridge, though she sounded a little apprehensive now. "Of course . . . very well, then . . . you two stay ahead of me."
"Can we have your wand, then, if we're going first?" Harry asked her.
"No, I don't think so, Mr. Potter," said Umbridge sweetly, poking him in the back with it. "The Ministry places a rather higher value on my life than yours, I'm afraid."
As they reached the cool shade of the first trees, Harry tried to catch Hermione's eye; walking into the forest without wands seemed to him to be more foolhardy than anything they had done so far this evening. She, however, shifted her shirt slightly exposing her wand and merely gave Umbridge a contemptuous glance and plunged straight into the trees, moving at such a pace that Umbridge, with her shorter legs, had difficulty in keeping up.
"Is it very far in?" Umbridge asked, as her robe ripped on a bramble.
"Oh yes," said Hermione. "Yes, it's well hidden."
Hermione was not taking the path they had followed to visit Grawp, but the one Harry had followed three years ago to the lair of the monster Aragog. Hermione had not been with him on that occasion; he doubted she had any idea what danger lay at the end of it.
"Er—are you sure this is the right way?" he asked her pointedly.
"Oh yes," she said in a steely voice, crashing through the undergrowth with what he thought was a wholly unnecessary amount of noise.
Behind them, Umbridge tripped over a fallen sapling. Neither of them paused to help her up again; Hermione merely strode on, calling loudly over her shoulder, "It's a bit further in!"
"Hermione, keep your voice down," Harry muttered, hurrying to catch up with her. "Anything could be listening in here —"
"I want us heard," she answered quietly, as Umbridge jogged noisily after them. "You'll see. . . ."
They walked on for what seemed a long time, until they were once again so deep into the forest that the dense tree canopy blocked out all light. Hermione had the feeling he had had before in the forest, one of being watched by unseen eyes. . . .
"How much further?" demanded Umbridge angrily from behind him.
"Not far now!" shouted Hermione, as they emerged into a dim, dank clearing. "Just a little bit—"
An arrow flew through the air and landed with a menacing thud in the tree just over her head. The air was suddenly full of the sound of hooves. Hermione could feel the forest floor trembling; Umbridge gave a little scream and pushed him in front of her like a shield —
Around fifty centaurs were emerging on every side, their bows raised and loaded, pointing at Harry, Hermione, and Umbridge, who backed slowly into the center of the clearing, Umbridge uttering odd little whimpers of terror. Harry looked sideways at Hermione. She was wearing a triumphant smile.
"Who are you?" said a voice.
The chestnut-bodied centaur called Magorian was walking toward them out of the circle; his bow, like the others', was raised. Umbridge was still whimpering, her wand trembling violently as she pointed it at the advancing centaur.
"I asked you who are you, human," said Magorian roughly.
"I am Dolores Umbridge!" said Umbridge in a high-pitched, terrified voice. "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic and Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts!"
"You are from the Ministry of Magic?" said Magorian, as many of the centaurs in the surrounding circle shifted restlessly.
"That's right!" said Umbridge in an even higher voice. "So be very careful! By the laws laid down by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, any attack by half-breeds such as yourselves on a human—"
"What did you call us?" shouted a wild-looking black centaur, whom she recognized as Bane. There was a great deal of angry muttering and tightening of bowstrings around them.
"Don't call them that!" Hermione said furiously, but Umbridge did not appear to have heard her.
Still pointing her shaking wand at Magorian, she continued, "Law Fifteen B states clearly that 'Any attack by a magical creature who is deemed to have near-human intelligence, and therefore considered responsible for its actions—' "
" 'Near-human intelligence'?" repeated Magorian, as Bane and several others roared with rage and pawed the ground. "We consider that a great insult, human! Our intelligence, thankfully, far outstrips your own—"
"What are you doing in our forest?" bellowed the hard-faced gray centaur whom Harry and Hermione had seen on their last trip into the forest. "Why are you here?"
"Your forest?" said Umbridge, shaking now not only with fright but also, it seemed, with indignation. "I would remind you that you live here only because the Ministry of Magic permits you certain areas of land—"
An arrow flew so close to her head that it caught at her mousy hair in passing. She let out an earsplitting scream and threw her hands over her head while some of the centaurs bellowed their approval and others laughed raucously. The sound of their wild, neighing laughter echoing around the dimly lit clearing and the sight of their pawing hooves was extremely unnerving.
"Whose forest is it now, human?" bellowed Bane.
"Filthy half-breeds!" she screamed, her hands still tight over her head. "Beasts! Uncontrolled animals!"
"Shut up!" shouted Hermione, but it was too late — Umbridge pointed her wand at Magorian and screamed, "Incarcerous!"
Ropes flew out of midair like thick snakes, wrapping themselves tightly around the centaur's torso and trapping his arms. He gave a cry of rage and reared onto his hind legs, attempting to free himself, while the other centaurs charged.
Harry grabbed Hermione and pulled her to the ground. Facedown on the forest floor they knew a moment of terror as hooves thundered around them, but the centaurs leaped over and around them, bellowing and screaming with rage.
"Nooooo!" he heard Umbridge shriek. "Noooooo . . . I am Senior Undersecretary . . . you cannot . . . unhand me, you animals . . . nooooo!"
Hermione saw a flash of red light and knew that she had attempted to Stun one of them—then she screamed very loudly. Lifting her head a few inches, Hermione saw that Umbridge had been seized from behind by Bane and lifted high into the air, wriggling and yelling with fright. Her wand fell from her hand to the ground.
Hermione saw as Harry stretched out his hand toward it, but a centaur's hoof descended upon the wand and it broke cleanly in half.
"Now!" roared a voice in Harry's ear and a thick hairy arm descended from thin air and dragged him upright; Hermione too had been pulled to her feet. Over the plunging, many-colored backs and heads of the centaurs Hermione saw Umbridge being borne away through the trees by Bane, still screaming nonstop; her voice grew fainter and fainter until they could no longer hear it over the trampling of hooves surrounding them.
"And these?" said the hard-faced, gray centaur holding Hermione.
"They are young," said a slow, doleful voice from behind Harry. "We do not attack foals."
"They brought her here, Ronan," replied the centaur who had such a firm grip on Harry. "And they are not so young. . . . He is nearing manhood, this one. . . ."
He shook Harry by the neck of his robes.
"Please," said Hermione breathlessly, "Manhood?" Hermione scoffed.
"Besides we hated the pink toad. I would have maimed her myself, but I don't have any means to, as of right now. We thought if we could doge her in the forest she would eventually get eaten by one of Aragog's spiders."
The gray centaur threw back his head, his back legs stamping furiously, and bellowed, "You see, Ronan? They already have the arrogance of their kind! So we were to do your dirty work, were we, human girl? We were to act as your servants, drive away your enemies like obedient hounds?"
"No!" said Hermione offended. "If something, it would be me working for you, guys! I'm not the toad. I know you don't help humans, I actually get it, we are pretty stupid."
"Right you are. We are a race apart and proud to be so. . . . We will not permit you to walk from here, boasting that we did your bidding!"
"We're not going to say anything like that!" Harry shouted. "We know you didn't do anything because we wanted you to—"
But nobody seemed to be listening to him. A bearded centaur toward the back of the crowd shouted, "They came here unasked, they must pay the consequences!"
A roar of approval met these words and a dun-colored centaur shouted, "They can join the woman!"
"You said you didn't hurt the innocent!" shouted Hermione. "We didn't do anything. Not use our wands or threats and I just admitted wholeheartedly that we're stupid!—"
"We are not all like the traitor Firenze, human girl!" shouted the gray centaur, to more neighing roars of approval from his fellows. "Perhaps you thought us pretty talking horses? We are an ancient people who will not stand wizard invasions and insults! We do not recognize your —"
"And I agree! But you must also see that you're kind of stubborn! I'm telling you over and over that you rock and still—"
But they did not hear what else Hermione was saying, for at that moment there came a crashing noise on the edge of the clearing so loud that all of them—Harry, Hermione, and the fifty or so centaurs filling the clearing—looked around. Hermione had been dropped to the floor and Harry hurried toward her as two thick tree trunks parted ominously and the monstrous form of Grawp the giant appeared in the gap.
The centaurs nearest him backed into those behind them. The clearing was now a forest of bows and arrows waiting to be fired, all pointing upward at the enormous grayish face now looming over them from just beneath the thick canopy of branches. Grawp's lopsided mouth was gaping stupidly. They could see his bricklike yellow teeth glimmering in the half-light, his dull sludge-colored eyes narrowed as he squinted down at the creatures at his feet. Broken ropes trailed from both ankles.
He opened his mouth even wider.
"Hagger."
The centaurs were quite silent, staring up at the giant, whose huge, round head moved from side to side as he continued to peer amongst them as though looking for something he had dropped.
"Hagger!" he said again, more insistently.
"Get away from here, giant!" called Magorian. "You are not welcome among us!"
These words seemed to make no impression whatsoever on Grawp. He stooped a little (the centaurs' arms tensed on their bows) and then bellowed, "HAGGER!"
A few of the centaurs looked worried now.
"Harry!" she whispered. "He's trying to say Hagrid!"
At this precise moment Grawp caught sight of them, the only two humans in a sea of centaurs. He lowered his head another foot or so, staring intently at them. Grawp opened his mouth wide again and said, in a deep, rumbling voice, "Mia."
"You remember?" Hermione breathed out a laugh.
"MIA!" roared Grawp. "WHERE HAGGER?"
"I don't know!" said Hermione loudly. "I'm sorry, Grawp, I don't know!"
"GRAWP WANT HAGGER!"
One of the giant's massive hands swooped down upon them—Hermione let out a real scream, ran a few steps backward, and fell over. The hand flew toward Harry and knocked a snow-white centaur off his legs.
It was what the centaurs had been waiting for—Grawp's outstretched fingers were a foot from Harry when fifty arrows went soaring through the air at the giant, peppering his enormous face, causing him to howl with pain and rage and straighten up again, rubbing his face with his enormous hands, breaking off the arrow shafts but forcing the heads in still deeper.
He yelled and stamped his enormous feet and the centaurs scattered out of the way. Pebble-sized droplets of Grawp's blood showered Harry as he pulled Hermione to her feet and the pair of them ran as fast as they could for the shelter of the trees. Once there they looked back — Grawp was snatching blindly at the centaurs as blood ran all down his face; they were retreating in disorder, galloping away through the trees on the other side of the clearing. As Harry and Hermione watched, Grawp gave another roar of fury and plunged after them, smashing more trees aside as he went.
"That was even worse than I had expected!" Hermione gasped.
"How are we getting to London?"
"Yeah, we were just wondering that," said a familiar voice from behind her.
Harry and Hermione moved instinctively together, peering through the trees, as Ron came into sight, with Ginny, Neville, and Luna hurrying along behind him. All of them looked a little the worse for wear—there were several long scratches running the length of Ginny's cheek, a large purple lump was swelling above Neville's right eye, Ron's lip was bleeding worse than ever — but all were looking rather pleased with themselves.
"So," said Ron, pushing aside a low-hanging branch and holding out Harry's wand, "had any ideas?"
"How did you get away?" asked Harry in amazement, taking his wand from Ron.
"Couple of Stunners, a Disarming Charm, Neville brought off a really nice little Impediment Jinx," said Ron airily, as Hermione took her wand from her shirt. "But Ginny was best, she got Malfoy—Bat-Bogey Hex—it was superb, his whole face was covered in the great flapping things. Anyway, we saw you heading into the forest out of the window and followed. What've you done with Umbridge?"
"She got carried away," said Harry. "By a herd of centaurs."
"And they left you behind?" asked Ginny, looking astonished.
"No, they got chased off by Grawp," said Harry.
"Who's Grawp?" Luna asked interestedly.
"Hagrid's little brother," said Ron promptly. "Anyway, never mind that now. Harry, what did you find out in the fire? Has You-Know-Who got Sirius or— ?"
"Yes," said Harry, as his scar gave another painful prickle, "and I'm sure Sirius is still alive, but I can't see how we're going to get there to help him."
"He's not there, " Hermione said weakly but was ignored.
They all fell silent, looking rather scared. The problem facing them seemed insurmountable.
"Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?" said Luna in the closest thing to a matter-of-fact voice Harry had ever heard her use.
"Okay," said Harry irritably, rounding on her, "first of all, 'we' aren't doing anything if you're including yourself in that, and second of all, Hermione and Ron are the only one with a broomstick that isn't being guarded by a security troll, so—"
"I've got a broom!" said Ginny.
"Yeah, but you're not coming," said Ron angrily.
"Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!" said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking.
"You're too—" Harry began.
"I'm three years older than you were when you fought You-Know-Who over the Sorcerer's Stone," she said fiercely, "and it's because of me Malfoy's stuck back in Umbridge's office with giant flying bogeys attacking him —"
"Yeah, but —"
"We were all in the D.A. together," said Neville quietly. "It was all supposed to be about fighting You-Know-Who, wasn't it? And this is the first chance we've had to do something real — or was that all just a game or something?"
"No—of course it wasn't—" said Harry impatiently.
"Then we should come too," said Neville simply. "We want to help."
"That's right," said Luna, smiling happily.
Harry's eyes met Ron's. He knew that Ron was thinking exactly
"Well, it doesn't matter anyway," said Harry frustratedly, "because we still don't know how to get there—"
"I thought we'd settled that?" said Luna maddeningly. "We're flying!"
"Look," said Ron, barely containing his anger, "you might be able to fly without a broomstick but the rest of us can't sprout wings whenever we—"
"There are other ways of flying than with broomsticks," said Luna serenely.
"I s'pose we're going to ride on the back of the Kacky Snorgle or whatever it is?" Ron demanded.
"The Crumple-Horned Snorkack can't fly," said Luna in a dignified voice, "but they can, and Hagrid says they're very good at finding places their riders are looking for."
Hermione whirled around with a smile. Standing between two trees, their white eyes gleaming eerily, were two thestrals, watching the whispered conversation as though they understood every word.
"Yes!" Hermione whispered, moving toward them. They tossed their reptilian heads, throwing back long black manes, and Hermione stretched out his hand eagerly and patted the nearest one's shining neck.
"Is it those mad horse things?" said Ron uncertainly, staring at a point slightly to the left of the thestral Hermione was patting. "Those ones you can't see unless you've watched someone snuff it?"
"Yeah," said Harry who was also watching Hermione.
"How many?"
"Just two."
"Well, we'll need three," said Harry.
"I think there are six of us, actually," said Luna calmly, counting.
"Don't be stupid, we can't all go!" said Harry angrily. "Look, you three"—he pointed at Neville, Ginny, and Luna—"you're not involved in this, you're not —"
They burst into more protests.
"Okay, fine, it's your choice," he said curtly. "But unless we can find more thestrals you're not going to be able—"
"Oh, more of them will come," said Ginny confidently, who like Ron was squinting in quite the wrong direction, apparently under the impression that she was looking at the horses.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because in case you hadn't noticed, you and Hermione are both covered in blood," she said coolly, "and we know Hagrid lures thestrals with raw meat, so that's probably why these two turned up in the first place. . . ."
"Okay, then," Harry said, a bright idea occurring. "Ron and I will take these two and go ahead, and Hermione can stay here with you three and she'll attract more thestrals—"
"Oi! You two can't even see them! I'm not staying behind!" said Hermione furiously.
"There's no need," said Luna, smiling. "Look, here come more now. . . . You two must really smell. . . ."
Hermione turned. No fewer than six or seven thestrals were picking their way through the trees now, their great leathery wings folded tight to their bodies, their eyes gleaming through the darkness.
"There are at least seven or six more, " Hermione smirked at their questionable looks. "You have no excuse now, Prongslet!"
"All right," he said angrily, "pick one and get on, then."
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