After Harry left through the secret passage, Y/N, Ron, and Hermione walked back silently to Hogwarts.
The whole way back Y/N was thinking of what they had heard. Black was so much worse than she had originally thought.
He killed two of his friends and was responsible for the deaths of two others. All Pettigrew wanted to do was to confront his friend for his betrayal. And Grace just got there, wondering what happened.
Y/N had always loved the name Grace. It was her second name, and she thought that it was really beautiful.
And then her mind wandered to Harry, who didn't ask for any of this. He's been through enough in his life. She wondered how Harry was at the moment. Is he okay? Does he need his friends? Does he want to be alone? Y/N was usually great at knowing what Harry was feeling, but what do you feel when you find out that your parents died because their best friend betrayed them?
And without noticing, they already reached Hogwarts.
During dinner Y/N, Ron, and Hermione were throwing worrying glances towards Harry, not daring to speak of what they'd heard at the Three Broomsticks, but it was clear they were all thinking of it.
When they went up to the common room, Harry slipped from his friends and went up to the boys' dorms.
"Should I go up to him?" Ron asked hesitantly
"You should probably give him some time," Y/N advised. Ron looked immensely relieved.
"It's crazy isn't it?" Hermione asked them. "What we'd heard."
"I feel so bad for Harry," Y/N said sympathetically. "Can't the world just give the poor boy a break?" Hermione shrugged
After a few moments of silence, Y/N and Hermione wished Ron good luck and separated into their dormitories.
⋆✧⋆
Y/N went down the next morning to see Hermione already sitting in the empty common room, her homework spread over three tables.
"'Mione it's the first morning of the holidays," said Y/N with a yawn. "Why are you already doing your homework?"
"I want to get a head-start," said Hermione. "Unlike you Ron and Harry I don't want to have to do all of my school work on the last day."
"You have a point," Y/N sat down next to her friend. "But it's still too early."
So they sat together, talking, trying not to think of what they heard the previous day, for twenty minutes until Ron came downstairs.
"Is he awake?" Y/N asked Ron the moment he reached where they were sitting.
Ron shook his head and sat down.
The three waited a bit for Harry but when they noticed he probably won't come down they decided to go to breakfast.
When they got back Hermione sat down to continue her homework, Ron was sitting aimlessly, looking for something to do, and Y/N was reading a book about complex spells that she wanted to try. They may have also rehearsed what they would say to Harry once he woke up.
It was nearly lunchtime when Harry walked down from the boys' dormitories. He looked really bad, his hair was messier than usual, his eyes were red and tired, and his face was paler than they had ever seen him.
"Harry, you--you look terrible." Hermione was the first one brave enough to talk.
"Where is everyone?" said Harry.
"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."
Harry slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.
"Are you alright Harry?" Y/N asked, gazing at his face with concern.
"I'm fine."
"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione pointed out, peering anxiously into his face.
"I'm fine," he repeated.
Y/N looked anxiously at Hermione and Ron -- who motioned for her to get on with it -- and started talking.
"Harry," she said, "I know that what we heard last night upset you. But--Harry you can't do anything stupid."
"Like what?" said Harry.
"Like trying to go after Black," said Ron sharply.
Harry stayed silent.
"You won't, will you, Harry?" said Hermione.
"Because Black's not worth dying for," said Ron.
"He really isn't," Y/N added.
Harry looked at them. They didn't seem to understand at all.
"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?"
Y/N, Ron, and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive.
"I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her--"
"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermione, looking stricken, earning herself a glare from Y/N due to her inconsiderate behaviour.
"The Dementors will catch black and he'll go back to Azkaban and--and serve him right!" Said Hermione, not noticing Y/N's glare
"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others," said Harry, angry that they don't understand him.
"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to--to kill Black or something?"
"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?"
Again, Harry didn't answer. He didn't know what he wanted to do. All he knew was that the idea of doing nothing, while Black was at liberty, was almost more than he could stand.
"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'' hunt him down myself... I'd want revenge.'"
"Harry Malfoy's just trying to mess with your head," Y/N reasoned
"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?"
"Listen... you know why Fudge was talking about how that Grace woman's family was lucky?" said Ron furiously. "Apparently, all that Pettigrew's mother got was the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. Dad told me. That was the biggest bit of him they could find after he finished with him. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous--"
"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron and Y/N. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle--"
"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" Interjected Ron angrily.
"--so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort--"
"--and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."
"Harry, please," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants... Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"
"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly.
There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.
"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's--let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"
"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron--"
"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"
Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind.
"Or we could have a game of chess," said Y/N, in an attempt to reroute the conversation topic.
Ron picked up on her idea and added, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set--"
"No, let's visit Hagrid," said Harry firmly.
So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole, down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.
They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.
Ron knocked, but there was no answer.
"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.
"I sure hope not," Y/N said, her teeth chattering, as Ron placed his ear to the door.
"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen -- is that Fang?"
Y/N, Harry, and Hermione put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.
"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.
"Hagrid!" called Y/N, and Harry started thumping the door.
"Hagrid, are you in there?" He asked.
There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.
"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harry's neck. Hagrid being at least twice the normal man's size, this was no laughing matter. About to collapse under Hagrid's weight, Harry was rescued by Y/N, Ron, and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under his arms and heaved him back into the cabin.
Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.
"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.
Harry spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table. "What's this, Hagrid?"
Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Harry, who picked it up and read aloud:
Dear Mr Hagrid,
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.
"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry to read on.
However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated. Yours in fellowship...
There followed a list of the school governors.
"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."
"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!" Y/N placed a comforting hand on Hagrid's shoulder.
A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, Y/N, and Hermione whip around.
Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.
"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."
Harry, Ron, Y/N and Hermione looked at one another. They had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what he called 'interesting creatures' and other people called 'terrifying monsters.'
On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.
"You'll have to put up a good strong defence, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm.
"I'm sure we will be able to prove Buckbeak is safe," Y/N added
"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! And if I lose the case, Buckbeak--"
Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.
"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.
"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around."
Ron, Y/N, and Hermione looked quickly at Harry, as though expecting him to start berating Hagrid for not telling him the truth about Black. But Harry couldn't bring himself to do it, not now that he saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.
"Listen, Hagrid," he said, "you can't give up. Hermione and Y/N are right, you just need a good defence. You can call us as witnesses--"
"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."
Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry, Y/N, and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.
"Er -- shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron. Harry stared at him.
"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.
At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together..." Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.
"I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes--"
"We do like them!" lied Hermione at once.
"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er -- how are the flobberworms?"
"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."
"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching. "An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back inAzkaban --"
He fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry, Ron, Y/N, and Hermione watched him breathlessly. They had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before.
After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"
"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind... the day I got expelled from Hogwarts... day me dad died... day I had ter let Norbert go..." His eyes filled with tears.
"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."
"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.
Hagrid snorted. "Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."
Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go... tryin' ter make him fly away... but how d' yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' -- an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law..." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."
⋆✧⋆
The next day Harry, Ron, Y/N, and Hermione went to the library and took large piles of books to the common room so that they could start working on Buckbeak's case.
They sat on the couches in the common room, books spread across the tables beside them, in silence, only speaking up when they found something that might be useful.
After around an hour, Y/N started losing her focus, and without her control, her mind would trail off to different subjects. Specifically the other day at Hogsmeade.
She thought about her 'date' with Ernie, about what they heard in the Three Broomsticks, and about the Marauders Map. And then it clicked.
Harry noticed Y/N's head rise slightly as if she remembered something.
"Did you find anything Y/N?" He asked her
"What? No," she answered sheepishly, feeling guilty for forgetting to look for materials for Buckbeaks trial.
"I just realized where I know the name 'Moony' from," she said.
Harry and Ron looked up, interested, and Hermione was only half-listening, still focused on her current book.
"From where?" Ron asked
"During the middle of the summer, I went downstairs to the kitchen to grab a snack and I saw my parents sitting at the kitchen table," Y/N told them. "My mum was reading a letter and my dad was reading the newspaper. Then my mother gasped and looked at my father with a pale face and said 'Moony's going to be at Hogwarts this year' or something like that. She seemed really worried if that makes sense."
They stayed silent for a moment.
"Did you hear anything else?" Hermione asked.
"No," said Y/N, " I went in and my mother hid the letter quickly and when I asked them about it they tried to change the topic."
"That's weird," said Ron.
"Maybe they just weren't friends in school," Harry said, not wanting Hermione to have another reason to dislike the map.
"I don't think that's likely," Hermione said suspiciously.
Y/N understood what Harry was trying to do and added, "it's probably nothing." And before Hermione had time to voice her concerns, she said, "We should probably go back to searching for Buckbeak's trial."
Harry sent her a grateful smile which she returned and turned back down to the book on his lap.
⋆✧⋆
On Christmas morning, Hermione was shaken awake by an excited Y/N.
"'Mione! Wake up already! It's Christmas!" She said happily.
"It's odd to see you awake before me," Hermione mumbled as she got up from her bed.
Y/N was already dressed in a warm Christmas jumper that she had gotten from Andromeda Tonks last Christmas.
Hermione and Y/N each placed their piles of presents on the floor of their dorm room and started opening them.
The first package she opened was from her parents. They sent her a new watch (she broke hers at the beginning of the year) and a homemade treacle tart.
She also got a sketchbook from Tonks, a hand-knitted beanie from Ted and Andromeda, loads of sweets from Jonathan, a beautiful quill from Hermione and from Ron she got some sugar quills and fake wands from Zonko's.
She only had three packages left when Hermione finished opening her presents (Y/N gave Hermione a book that Hermione had been searching for forever, which she thanked her for repeatedly)
She picked up one of the packages and read the letter.
Dear Y/N,
Merry Christmas!
I really hope that you like your gift,
it's not much but I think that it will look really good on you.
Ernie
The package had a pair of nice silver earrings, with flowers on them. They weren't really her taste but she appreciated the sentiment nonetheless.
"Who's that from?" Hermione asked as she petted Croonshanks, who was resting on her lap.
"Ernie," Y/N replied quietly, not wanting Hermione to get all smug.
"Ernie?" Her head shot up. Y/N was starting to believe that Hermione's favourite hobby was to talk about subjects that embarrassed Y/N.
"I just realised that because of all the Sirius Black stuff I forgot to ask you," said Hermione.
The moment Y/N was dreading was nearing.
"How was your date?"
"It was alright. Ernie's really fun to be with," said Y/N, trying to say the least possible.
"What did you do?"
"We just walked around Hogsmeade"
Y/N picked up one of her two last gifts and ignored the rest of Hermione's questions.
On top of it, it said
To Y/N,
From Harry
Y/N opened the wrapping to find a beautiful simple gold necklace with a ruby pendant.
Hermione let out a gasp.
"Who is that from?" She asked, amazed.
"Harry," Y/N said softly, her eyes still attached to the necklace.
Hermione lifted her gaze from the necklace and her eyes found her friend, wondering if she heard correctly. Then her mouth opened slightly, as if she connected something. Her eyes flickered between the new quill that Harry bought her, her best friend, and the necklace, and with that, she knew, that she was correct. Her mouth morphed from a confused frown to a large, bright smile.
Y/N was still gazing in awe at her new necklace, not noticing her best friend's odd behaviour.
She gently took out the necklace from its box and hooked it around her neck.
Y/N gazed down at it, still speechless.
"It's beautiful," was all she managed to say.
After a few moments of silence, in which Y/N looked down at her new necklace in awe and Hermione petted Croonkshanks, looking as if she could cry from how happy and excited she was at the moment, Y/N took her last package, wondering who it was from.
It had a note attached to it in neat handwriting that she didn't recognise.
Dearest Y/N,
Merry Christmas.
- A well-wisher
Y/N, still wearing a confused look, opened the package to find a small enchanted music box.
It was circular, only slightly bigger than her hand. The box was coloured in a soft shade of pink, decorated in green vines, lavender flowers, and thin golden strands, that swirled magically around the box.
She opened it and a familiar soft tune emerged from the box, making Y/N smile.
"I wonder who it's from," she said.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked her.
"It has no name on it."
"That's curious," Hermione noted. "But it's beautiful."
"It really is," Y/N then noticed that her friend was holding a new muggle camera. She snatched it from her and looked at it all around.
"Who sent you this?" She asked
"My parents," said Hermione, "I've been wanting one for ages"
"Cool," said Y/N, and returned the camera to her friend.
"Do you want to go see if the boys are up yet?" She asked Hermione
"You go," said Hermione, getting up from her seat on the floor. "I want to start this." And she motioned to her new book.
Y/N got up from the floor and went to the boys' dorms.
She entered the morning to see Harry opening a package that had a scarlet sweater with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle.
"Morning boys!" She said happily, sitting on the floor beside her friends.
"Morning"
"Good morning"
Harry reached and picked a weirdly shaped package. He looked at the note on it.
Merry Christmas!
-Y/N :)
"Oh no," said Y/N when she saw the package that he picked up her present. "I bought you something small and silly. I wasn't expecting you to get me such a nice present. I'll make it up to you, I swear."
Harry looked at her and saw that she was wearing the necklace that he got her. His face was immediately flushed with colour. He didn't know why he bought her such an expensive gift, he just thought that it would suit her. And it did.
He opened her gift and saw a whole lot of sweets and... a hairbrush.
Harry chuckled to himself when he saw the note attached to it.
Maybe now you will be able to brush your hair :)
Since their first year at Hogwarts, Y/N had been teasing Harry about his untamable hair -- even though she secretly likes it.
"It's a great gift," Harry smiled at her.
"On the next Hogsmeade trip I'm buying you a new nicer one," She said, sounding guilty
"No, no, I love it. It's funny," Harry said truthfully. Y/N smiled at him.
As Harry moved all these things aside, he saw a long, thin package lying underneath.
"What's that?" said Ron, looking over, a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hand.
"Dunno..." Harry ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread.
Ron dropped his socks and jumped off his bed for a closer look and Y/N's jaw dropped.
"I don't believe it," he said hoarsely.
"Is that what I think it is?" Said Y/N quietly
The broom's handle glittered as Harry picked it up.
He could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.
"Who sent it to you?" said Ron in a hushed voice.
"Look and see if there's a card," said Harry.
Ron ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings. "Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"
"Well," said Harry, feeling stunned, "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys." Y/N chuckled
"I bet it was Dumbledore," said Ron, now walking around and around the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously..."
"That was my dad's, though," said Harry. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this--"
"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" said Ron. "In case some git like Malfoy said it was favouritism."
"That's very unlikely Ron," said Y/N. "Maybe it was sent to you by accident?"
"No chance," said Ron, "The broom companies won't have owl's that make mistakes, it'll cost them too much money."
"Hey, Harry--" He added, giving a great whoop of laughter -- "Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"
"Now that I have to see," Y/N chuckled. "He'd hate the idea of you having a better broom than him."
"I can't believe this," Harry muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ron sank onto Harry's bed, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy. "Who--?"
"I know," said Ron, controlling himself, "I know who it could've been--Lupin!"
"What?" said Harry, now starting to laugh himself "Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes."
"Yeah, but he likes you," said Ron.
"'liking someone' doesn't mean you suddenly have lots of--" but Ron cut Y/N off, ignoring her.
"And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you--"
"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Harry. "He was ill when I was playing in that match."
"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing," said Ron. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?"
Harry frowned at Ron. "I can't see Lupin affording something like this."
"What're you three laughing about?" Hermione had just come in, smirking slightly at Harry, wearing her dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck.
"Don't bring him in here!" said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pyjama pocket. But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt.
"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"
"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."
To his great surprise, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.
"What's the matter with you?" said Ron.
"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?" Ron sighed exasperatedly.
"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," he said.
"So it must've been really expensive..."
"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.
"Well... who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.
"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"
"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.
Harry, Ron, and Y/N looked at her.
"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it--sweep the floor?" said Ron.
But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus's bed, right at Ron's chest.
"GET -- HIM -- OUT -- OF -- HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pyjamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder.
Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.
Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room.
The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Uncle Vernon's old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.
"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it..."
The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.
"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe.
"Can't you shut that thing up?" he added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron.
Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk.
All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage.
"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harry said, looking at Scabbers.
"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine Hermione's big stupid furball left him alone!"
"Give her a break Ronald," said Y/N, angry at her friend's idiotic behaviour. "It's a cat."
⋆✧⋆
Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning.
Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers.
Harry and Y/N gave up trying to make them talk to each other and examined the Firebolt, which Harry had brought down to the common room with him.
For some reason, this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat.
At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room.
Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather mouldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students--extremely nervous-looking first years.
"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Harry, Ron, Y/N, and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables... Sit down, sit down!"
Harry, Ron, Y/N and Hermione sat down side by side at the end of the table.
"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged.
With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.
Harry, remembering the Boggart, caught Y/N's eye and they both grinned; Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.
"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.
As Harry was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honour of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.
"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.
"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness..."
"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair--"
And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.
"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"
"We'll risk it, Sybill," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."
Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.
"Tripe, Sybill?"
Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"
"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."
"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.
Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.
"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."
"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.
Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.
"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him--"
"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.
Y/N was looking in between the two professors, a look of pure delight on her face.
"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"
"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape.
"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time... Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent." The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.
Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harry and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.
"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"
"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.
"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axeman is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."
Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted, and Y/N got off her seat and joined Harry and Ron.
"Coming?" Harry said to Hermione.
"No," Hermione muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."
"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," yawned Ron, earning himself a smack on the arm by Y/N.
When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas party with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.
"Merry--hic--Christmas! Password?"
"Scurvy cur," said Ron.
"And the same to you, sir!" roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.
Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected his Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday, brought them downstairs and tried to find something to do with the Firebolt; however, there were no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it.
He and Ron simply sat admiring it from every angle, with Y/N sitting beside them reading a book, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.
Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, she was rarely spotted in the common room. Y/N looked up from her book, and Harry and Ron stared at her, both holding the Firebolt.
Hermione walked around them, sat down, picked up the nearest book and hid her face behind it.
"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt.
"Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."
Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.
"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig ends.
"Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No," said Harry blankly.
"I see..." said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."
"W--what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"
"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down--"
"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.
"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."
"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor--"
"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."
Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her.
Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.
"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"
Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.
"Because I thought--and Professor McGonagall agrees with me--that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"