"Morning," Harry says brightly to Ron, Hermione and I as he and Danny join us at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.
"What are you looking so pleased about?" says Ron, eyeing Harry in surprise.
"Erm...Quidditch later," says Danny happily, pulling a large platter of bacon and eggs towards him.
"Oh...yeah..." says Ron. He puts down the piece of toast he is eating and takes a large swig of pumpkin juice. Then he says, "Listen...you don't fancy going out a bit earlier with me, do you? Just to - er - give me some practice before training? So I can, you know, get my eye in a bit."
"Yeah, OK," says Harry.
"Look, I don't think you should," says Hermione seriously. "You're both really behind on homework as it -"
But she breaks off; the morning post has arrived and, as usual, the Daily Prophet is soaring towards us in the beak of a screech owl, which lands perilously close to the sugar bowl and holds out a leg. Hermione and I push a Knut into its leather pouch, take the newspaper, and scan the front page critically as the owl takes off.
"Anything interesting?" says Ron.
"No," I sigh, "just some guff about the bass player in the Weird Sisters getting married."
Hermione and I open the paper and disappear behind it.
"Wait a moment," says Hermione suddenly. "Oh no...Sirius!"
"What's happened?" says Danny, snatching at the paper so violently it rips down the middle, with him holding one half and Hermione she I holding the other.
"'The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer...blah blah blah...is currently hiding in London!" I read from our half in an anguished whisper.
"Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything," says Harry in a low, furious voice. "He did recognise Sirius on the platform..."
"What?" says Ron, looking alarmed. "You didn't say -"
"Shh!" say Hermione and Danny.
"...Ministry warns wizarding community that Black is very dangerous...killed thirteen people...broke out of Azkaban..." the usual rubbish," Hermione concludes, lying down our half of the paper and looking fearfully at Harry, Danny, Ron and I. "Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all," she whispers. "Dumbledore did warn him not to."
Harry and Danny look down at the bit of the Prophet they tore off. Most of the page is devoted to an advertisement for Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, which is apparently having a sale, as far as I saw from the few seconds I looked at it.
"Hey!" Harry says, flattening it down so Hermione, Ron and I can see it. "Look at this!"
"I've got all the robes I want," says Ron.
"No," says Danny. "Look...this little piece here..."
Ron, Hermione and I bend closer to read it; the item is barely an inch long and placed right at the bottom of a column. It is headlined:
TRESPASS AT THE MINISTRY
Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham,
has appeared in front of the Wizengamot charged with trespass
and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August.
Podmore was arrested by Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric
Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-
security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused
to speak in his own defence, was convicted on both charges and
sentenced to six months in Azkaban.
"Sturgis Podmore?" says Ron slowly. "He's that bloke who looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he? He's one of the Ord -"
"Ron, shh!" I say, casting a terrified look around us.
"Six months in Azkaban!" whispers Harry, shocked. "Just for trying to get through a door!"
"Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through a door. What an earth was he doing at the Ministry of Magic at one o'clock in the morning?" breaths Hermione.
"D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?" Ron mutters.
"Wait a moment..." says Danny slowly. "Sturgis was supposed to come and see us off, remember?"
We look at him.
"Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard to King's Cross, remember?" Harry says. "And Moody got all annoyed because he didn't turn up; so he couldn't have been on a job for them, could he?"
"Well, maybe they didn't expect him to get caught," I say.
"It could be a frame-up!" Ron exclaims excitedly. "No - listen!" he goes on, dropping his voice dramatically at the threatening looks on Hermione and I's faces. "The Ministry suspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so - I dunno - they lured him to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they've just made something up to get him!"
There is a pause where Harry, Danny, Hermione and I consider this. It's possible, I suppose. In fact, I'm rather impressed. So is Hermione, by the looks of it.
"Do you know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true," she says.
We fold our half of the paper thoughtfully. As Harry and Danny lie down their knives and forks, we come out of the reverie.
"Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on self-fertilising shrubs first and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus Spell before lunch..." I say.
*********************************************
"How was practice?" says Hermione rather coolly, as Harry, Danny and Ron climb through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
"It was -" Danny begins.
"Completely lousy," says Ron in a hollow voice, sinking into a chair between Hermione and I. We look up at Ron and our frostiness melts.
"Well, it was only your first one," I say consolingly, "it's bound yo take time to -"
"Who said it was me who made it lousy?" snaps Ron.
"No one," says Hermione, looking taken aback, "she thought -"
"She thought I was bound to be rubbish?"
"No, of course I didn't!" I say, taking Harry's hand for back-up. No help there. "Look, you said it was lousy so I just -"
"I'm going to get started on some homework," says Ron angrily and stomps off to the staircase to the boys' dormitories and vanishes from sight. Hermione and I turn to Harry and Danny.
"Was he lousy?" Hermione says, taking Danny's hand.
"No," says Harry loyally.
Hermione and I raise our eyebrows.
"Well, I suppose he could've played better," Danny mutters, "but it was only the first training session, like you said..."
Harry, Danny and Ron don't seem to make much headway with their homework that night.
Hermione and I spend the whole of Sunday in the grounds, caught up on homework, whilst Harry, Danny and Ron work in the Gryffindor common room.
In the evening, Hermione and I sit with Crookshanks and Lizzie on our laps, chatting merrily to Ginny and Misty as two pair of knitting needles flash in midair in front of us, now knitting two pairs of elf socks.
At half past eleven, Hermione and I wander over to Harry, Danny and Ron, yawning.
"Nearly done?" I ask.
"No," says Ron shortly.
"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymeade, not Callisto," Hermione says, pointing over Ron's shoulder at a line in his Astronomy essay, "and it's Io that's got the volcanoes."
"Thanks," snarls Ron, scratching out the offending sentences.
"Sorry, she only -" I say, taking Harry's hand.
"Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticise -"
"Ron -" says Hermione, taking Danny's hand.
"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in here -"
"No - look!" I say, lacing my fingers through Harry's so that he, at least, will listen to me.
Hermione and I are pointing to the nearest window. A handsome screech owl is standing on the windowsill, gazing into the room at Ron.
"Isn't that Hermes?" says Hermione, sounding amazed.
"Blimey, it is!" says Ron quietly, throwing down his quill and getting to his feet. "What's Percy writing to me for?"
He crosses to the window and opens it; Hermes flies inside, lands on Ron's essay and holds out a leg to which a letter is attached. Ron takes the letter off it and the owl departs at once, leaving inky footprints across Ron's drawing of the moon Io.
"That's definitely Percy's handwriting," says Ron, sinking back into his chair and staring at the words on the outside of the scroll: Ronald Weasley, Gryffindor House, Hogwarts. He looks up at us. "What d'you reckon?"
"Open it!" I say eagerly, and Harry and Danny nod.
Ron unrolls the scroll and begins to read. The further down the parchment his eyes travel, the more pronounced becomes his scowl. When he has finished reading, he looks disgusted. He thrusts the letter at Harry, Danny, Hermione and I, who lean towards each other to read it together:
Dear Ron,
I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister for Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.
I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the "Fred and George" route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.
But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully, you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.
From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a perfect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternisation with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this - no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favourite - but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different - and probably more accurate - view of Potter's behaviour. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing - and see if you can spot yours truly!
Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school, too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a more technicality, if you ask me, and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt.
It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter - I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent - but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behaviour that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Professor Umbridge, a truly delightful woman who I know will only be too happy to advise you.
This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should not be to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that, so far, Professor Umbridge is encountering very little co-operation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find his easier from next week - again, see the Daily Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this - a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well-placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!
I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticise our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore. (If you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders.) I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people - the Minister really could not be more gracious to me - and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to bind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions, either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realise how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.
Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.
Your brother,
Percy
P.S: I wouldn't socialise too much with those Rivera twins either. I have always thought them shifty, and I think the Ministry is starting to realise how big a problem they might be - perhaps just as big as Harry Potter.
Harry and Danny look up at Ron.
"Well," Harry says, sounding as if he finds the whole thing as a joke, "if you want to - er - what is it?" - he checks Percy's letter - "Oh yeah - 'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."
"Give it back," says Ron, holding out his hand. "He is -" Ron says jerkily, tearing Percy's letter in half "the world's -" he tears it into quarters "biggest -" he tears into eighths "git." He throws the pieces into the fire.
"Come on, we've got to get this finished sometime before dawn," he says briskly to Harry and Danny, pulling Professor Sinistra's essay back towards him.
Hermione is looking at Ron with an odd expression on her face.
"Oh, give them here," she says abruptly.
"What?" says Ron.
"Give them to us, we'll look through and correct them," I say, as Harry puts his arm around my shoulders.
"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione and Dawn, you're life-savers," says Ron, "what can I -?"
"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again,'" Hermione says, holding out both hands for their essays, but she looks slightly amused all the same.
"Thanks a million, Hermione and Dawn," says Danny weakly, passing over his essay and sinking back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.
It is now past midnight and the common room is deserted but for the five of us, Crookshanks and Lizzie. The only sound is those of Hermione and I's quills scratching out sentences here and there on their essays and the ruffle of pages as we check various facts in the reference books strewn across the table. I am exhausted. I also feel an odd, sick, empty feeling in my stomach that has everything to do with the letter now curling blankly in the heart of the fire.
I have known Percy for four years, stayed in his house during the summer holidays, shared a tent with him during the Quidditch World Cup, even hugged him when he awarded Harry and Danny full marks in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament last year, yet now Percy thinks me shifty and possibly dangerous.
"OK, write that down," I say to Ron, pushing his essay and a sheet covered in my own handwriting back to Ron, "then add this conclusion we've written for you."
"Hermione, Dawn, you are honestly the most wonderful people I've ever met," says Ron weakly, "and if I'm ever rude to you again -"
"- we'll know you're back to normal," says Hermione. Then she reaches for Danny's hand. "Harry, Danny, yours are OK except for those bits at the end, I think you must have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europe's covered in ice, not mice - Harry? Danny?"
Harry and Danny have slid off their chairs on to their knees and are now crouching on the singed and threadbare hearthrug, gazing into the flames.
"Er - Harry? Danny?" says Ron uncertainly. "Why are you down there?"
"Because we've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," says Harry.
He speaks quite calmly.
"Sirius's head?" I repeat. "You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too - Uncle Sirius!"
Hermione and I gasp, gazing at the fire; Ron drops his quill. There in the middle of the dancing flames sits Uncle Sirius's head, long dark hair falling around his grinning face.
"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," he says. "I've been checking every hour."
"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Danny says, half-laughing.
"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear."
"But what if you'd been seen?" says Hermione anxiously.
"Well - I think a girl - first-year, by the look of her - might've got a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry," Uncle Sirius adds hastily, as Hermione and I clap our hands to our mouths, "I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly-shaped log or something."
"But, Uncle Sirius, this is taking an awful risk -" I begin.
"You sound like Molly," says Uncle Sirius. "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's and Danny's letters without resorting to code - and codes are breakable."
At the mention of Harry's and Danny's letters, Hermione, Ron and I all turn to stare at them.
"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" says Hermione accusingly.
"We forgot," says Harry, taking my hand. "Don't look at us like that, Hermione and Dawn, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out of them, was there, Sirius?"
"No, they were very good," says Uncle Sirius, smiling. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed - your scar."
"What about -?" Ron begins, but I interrupt him.
"We'll tell you afterwards. Go on, Uncle Sirius."
"Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"
"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion," says Danny, ignoring, as usual, Ron, Hermione and I's winces. "So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night we had detention."
"Well, now he's back its bound to hurt more often," says Uncle Sirius.
"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when we were in detention with her?" Harry asks.
"I doubt it," says Uncle Sirius. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater -"
"She's foul enough to be one," says Danny darkly, and Ron, Hermione and I nod vigorously in agreement.
"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," says Uncle Sirius with a wry smile. "I know she's a nasty piece of work, though - you should hear Remus talk about her."
"Does Lupin know her?" asks Harry quickly, and I am reminded of Umbridge's comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson.
"No," says Uncle Sirius, "but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legalisation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."
I remember how much shabbier Lupin looks these days and my dislike of Umbridge deepens even further.
"What's she got against werewolves?" says Hermione angrily.
"Scared of them, I expect," says Uncle Sirius, smiling at her indignation. "Apparently, she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose."
Ron laughs but Hermione and I are upset.
"Uncle Sirius!" I say reproachfully. "Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I'm sure he'd respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said -"
"So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Uncle Sirius interrupts. "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"
"No," says Danny, ignoring my affronted look at being cut off in my defence of Kreacher. "She's not letting us use magic at all!"
"All we do is read the stupid textbook," says Ron.
"Ah, well, that figures," says Uncle Sirius. "Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."
"Trained in combat!" repeats Harry incredulously. "What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"
"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," says Uncle Sirius, "or, rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing - forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."
There is a pause at this, then Ron says, "That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with."
"So we're being prevented from learning Defence Against The Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?" says Hermione, looking furious.
"Yep," says Uncle Sirius. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."
This reminds me of Percy's letter. Apparently, it reminds Danny, too.
"D' you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow?" he asks, taking Hermione's hand. "Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be -"
"I don't know," says Uncle Sirius, "I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here..."
There is a definite note of bitterness in Uncle Sirius's voice.
"So you haven't heard any news about Hagrid, either?" Harry says, lacing his fingers through mine.
"Ah..." says Uncle Sirius, "well, he's supposed to be back by now, no ones sure what's happened to him." Then, seeing our stricken faces, he adds quickly, "But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you five get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."
"But if he was supposed to be back by now..." I say in a small, anxious voice.
"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home - but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or - well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly OK."
Unconvinced, Harry, Danny, Ron, Hermione and I exchange worried looks.
"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," says Uncle Sirius hastily, "it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be OK." And when we do not appear cheered by this, Uncle Sirius adds, "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could -"
"NO!" say Danny, Ron and Hermione together.
"Uncle Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" I say anxiously.
"Oh, that," says Uncle Sirius, grinning, "they're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue -"
"Yeah, but we think this time they have," says Harry, putting his arm around my shoulders. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you and his father was on the platform, Sirius - you know, Lucius Malfoy - so don't come up here, whatever you do. If Malfoy recognises you again -"
"All right, all right, I've got the point," says Uncle Sirius. He looks most displeased. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together."
"We would, we just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" says Danny, putting his arm around Hermione.
There is a pause in which Uncle Sirius looks out of the fire at Harry, a crease between his sunken eyes.
"You're less like your father than I thought," he says finally, a definite coolness in his voice. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James."
"Look -" says Harry, as I wrap my arm around his waist, glaring at Uncle Sirius.
"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," says Uncle Sirius, but I am sure he is lying. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"
There is a tiny pop, and the place where Uncle Sirius's head was is a flickering flame once more.
*
Question of the chapter: Harry or Dudley?
And 144 reads! Guys this is amazing! Thank you all so so so much!