Unedited
Chapter Twenty Five - "Let's put our positive pants on."
"All students will return to their house common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student it to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."
The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listen to Professor McGonagall in silence. She rolls up the parchment from which she had been reading and says in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks us caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."
She climbs somewhat awkwardly out of the portraits hole, and the Gryffindors begin talking immediately.
"That's four Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw and one Hufflepuff," says Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. "Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin - why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roars, to nods and scattered applause.
Well that's just assuming. Not all Slytherins are bad.
Percy is sitting in a chair behind Lee, but for once he doesn't seem keen to make his views heard. He's looking pale and stunned.
"Percy's in shock," Fred tells me quietly. "That Ravenclaw girl - Penelope Clearwater - she's a Prefect. I don't think he thought the monster would dare attack a Prefect."
"How are you?" George asks.
"I think you know the answer to that," I smile weakly and he pulls me into a hug.
"They'll be fine," Fred says, hugging me as well.
"That doesn't stop me worrying," I reply, pulling away from them. "But thanks. You two are going to have to be my Maya and Elinor for now."
They both laugh and I walk over to Ron and Harry.
"What're we going to do?" says Ron quietly. "D'you think they suspect Hagrid?"
"We've got to go and talk to him," I say, making up my mind. "I can't believe it's him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he'll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that's a start."
"But McGonagall said we've got to stay in our tower unless we're in class -"
"I think," says Harry, more quietly still, "it's time to get my dad's old Cloak out again."
*
I wait for Harry and Ron down in the common room, wearing my. They run down the dormitory steps and Harry throws the cloak over us.
The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors isn't enjoyable. I've wandered the castle at night before, but I've never seen it so crowded after sunset. Teachers, Prefects and ghosts are marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. The Invisibility Cloak doesn't stop us from making any noise, and there's a particularly tense moment when Ron stubs his toe only yards from the spot where Snape is standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezes at almost exactly the moment Ron swears. It's with relief that we reach the oak front doors and ease them open.
It's a clear, starry night. We hurry towards the lighted windows of Hagrid's house, and pull off the Cloak only when we're right outside his front door.
Seconds after we have knocked, Hagrid flings it open. I find myself face to face, with him aiming a crossbow at us, Fang the boarhound barking loudly behind him.
"Oh," he says, lowering the weapon and staring at us. "What're you three doin' here?"
"What's that for?" says Harry, pointing at the crossbow as we step inside.
"Nothin' ... nothin'," Hagrid mutters. "I've bin expectin' ... doesn't matter ... Sit down ... I'll make tea ..."
He hardly seems to know what he's doing. He nearly extinguishes the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashes the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand.
"Are you okay, Hagrid?" I ask. "Did you hear about the attacks?"
"Oh, I heard, all righ'," says Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.
He keeps glancing nervously at the windows. He pours us large mugs of boiling water (he's forgotten to add tea bags) and is just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate, when there's a loud knock on the door.
Hagrid drops the fruitcake. Harry and Ron exchange panic-stricken looks, I throw the Invisibility Cloak back over us and retreat into a corner. Hagrid checks that we're hidden, seizes his crossbow and flings open his door once more.
"Good evening, Hagrid."
It's Dumbledore. He enters, looking deadly serious, and is followed by a second, very odd-looking man.
The stranger is a short, portly man with rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression. He's wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pin-striped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carries a lime-green bowler.
"That's Dad's boss!" Ron breaths. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"
Mmmmm, fudge!
I elbow Ron hard to make him shut up.
Hagrid has gone pale and sweaty. He drops into one of his chairs and looks from Dumbledore to Fudge.
"Bad business, Hagrid," says Fudge, in a rather clipped tone. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns and two on Half-bloods. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."
"I never," says Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore, "you know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir ..."
"I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," says Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.
"Look, Albus," says Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something - the school governors have been in touch."
"Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," says Dumbledore. His blue eyes are full of a fire I've never seen before.
"Look at it from my point of view," says Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn't Hagrid, he'll be back and no more said. But I've got to take him. Got to. Wouldn't be doing my duty -"
"Take me?" says Hagrid, who's trembling. "Take me where?"
"For a short stretch only," says Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology ..."
"Not Azkaban?" croaks Hagrid.
Before Fudge can answer, there's another loud rap on the door.
Dumbledore answers it. It's Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs: he let out a gasp.
Lucius Malfoy strides into Hagrid's hut, swathed in a long black travelling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Dang starts to growl.
"Already here, Fudge," he says approvingly. "Good, good ..."
"What're you doin' here?" says Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"
"My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your - er - d'you call this a house?" says Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looks around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the Headmaster was here."
"And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" says Dumbledore. He speaks politely, but the fire's still blazing in his blue eyes.
"Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," says Mr Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "but the governors feel it's time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension - you'll find all twelve signatures on it. In afraid we feel you're losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now. Four more this after, wasn't it? At this rate, they'll be no Muggle-borns left at all, and if the heir's started on half-bloods, we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school."
"Oh, now, see here, Lucius," says Fudge, looking alarmed, "Dumbledore suspended ... no, no ... last thing we want just now ..."
"The appointment - or suspension - of the Headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," says Mr Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks ..."
"Now look, Lucius, if Dumbledore can't stop them -" says Fudge, whose upper lip is sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"
"That remains to be seen," says Mr Malfoy, with a nasty smile. "But as all twelve of us have voted ..."
Son of a bun!
Hagrid leaps to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.
"An' how many did teh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" he roars.
CALLED OUT!
"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one if these days, Hagrid," says Mr Malfoy. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They don't like it at all."
"Yeh can' take Dumbledore!" yells Hagrid, making Fang cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, an' the Muggle-borns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin's next!"
"Calm yourself, Hagrid," says Dumbledore sharply. He looks at Malfoy.
"If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside."
"But -" stutters Fudge."
"No!" growls Hagrid.
Dumbledore has not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy's cold grey ones.
"However," says Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly, so that none of us can miss a word, "you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."
For a second, I'm almost sure Dumbledore's eyes flick towards the corner where Harry, Ron and I are standing.
"Admirable sentiments," says Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your - er - highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any - ah - 'killin's'."
He strides to the cabin door, opens it and bows Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waits for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stands his ground, takes s deep breath and says carefully, "If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That's lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'."
Fudge stares at him in amazement.
"All right, I'm comin'," says Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he's about to follow Fudge through the door, he stops again and says loudly, "An' someone'll need ter feed Fang while I'm away."
The door bangs shut and Ron pulls the Invisibility Cloak off.
"Well, we're majorly fucked."
"No kidding," says Ron hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."
"No," I say, "we're going to be fine. Let's put our positive pants on, and just relax."
Fang starts howling, scratching at the closed door.
"I know," I whisper, hugging Fang. "I know."