CHAPTER FIVE:
Third Person P.O.V.:
The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Hermione examined their new course schedules at breakfast.
"Today's not bad... outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his schedule. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures... damn it, we're still with the Slytherins...."
"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned, looking down; it his least favorite subject, apart from Potions.
"You should have given it up like Charlie and I did," said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."
Charlie's ears had perked up, it had been the first time since the previous evening that Hermione had openly said his name; she was pretty silent after dinner, and basically rushed to bed after they got back to the common room.
Grateful that she wasn't mad at him like he had thought, Charlie decided to see if she'd be willing to further engage in a conversation with him directly.
"You're eating again, I see," he said with a small smile, watching Hermione add liberal amounts of jam to her toast too.
"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione, refraining from making direct eye contact with Charlie.
"Yeah... and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning.
There was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, Harry looked up, but there was no sign of white among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed.
Charlie raised a brow towards Harry before whispering, "Still nothing from Sirius?"
The boy with glasses shook his head slightly and stared back down into his porridge with a small sulking expression.
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The next couple of days seemed to pass by in a blur. In Herbology, Professor Sprout introduced Bubotubers, which apparently had contained a pus that was essential in the remedy for acne. Hagrid had brought out Blast-Ended Skrewts in Care of Magical Creatures; imagine the disgust when after dealing with pus, the students were forced to feed the small, mischievous beasts frog livers...
Charlie had Arithmancy with Hermione, as expected, but the class could not have been anymore awkward given the fact that they had barely spoken, which was quite obviously a result of the revelation that the Beauxbatons were coming to Hogwarts. However, it couldn't have been worse than Harry and Ron's experience with Divination - apparently Ron had made a cheeky comment about the planet, Uranus that sent Trelawney on a warpath, so she assigned homework that was destined to take days.
"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly as they joined the crowds descending the staircases back to the Great Hall and dinner. "That'll take all weekend, that will..."
"Lots of homework?" said Hermione brightly, as she and Charlie caught up with them. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"
"Well, good for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.
They reached the entrance hall, which was packed with people queuing for dinner. They had just joined the end of the line, when a loud voice rang out behind them.
"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"
Charlie, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned. Malfoy, Crabbe, Zabini, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.
"What?" said Ron shortly.
"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. "Listen to this!
FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
Malfoy looked up.
"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.
Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:
"Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene."
"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"
Ron was shaking with fury. Harry and Hermione looked at the Slytherins with disgust. Charlie had simply clenched his fists, prepared to strike. Everyone was now staring at them.
"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry, trying to pull his friends in the opposite direction. "C'mon, Ron..."
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Charlie, stepping forward, which earned a pull on the back his robes from Hermione to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy, "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"
Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink.
"Don't you dare insult my mother, Hawthorne."
"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," Charlie spat with anger, before he let Hermione pull him away from the scene.
BANG!
Several people screamed - Charlie felt something white-hot graze the side of his face - he plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he'd even touched it, he heard a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Charlie spun around, Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing; Charlie, Harry, and Ron had immediately bursted out laughing.
However, from everyone else, there was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. That's when, Moody turned to look at Charlie.
"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.
"No," said Charlie, very amused at Malfoy as a ferret, "missed."
"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.
"Leave - what?" Charlie said, bewildered.
"Not you - him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.
Moody started to limp toward Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.
"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."
The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
"Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.
"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.
Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
"What - what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.
"Teaching," said Moody.
"Teach - Alastor, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.
"Technically, it's a ferret," said Charlie, acting like a smart-ass, which resulted in a scolding slap on the arm from Hermione.
"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.
"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall wealdy. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"
"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock -"
"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"
"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.
Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.
"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father, boy... You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that from me... Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"
"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.
"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape... Come on, you..."
Then, he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.
Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.
"That might've just been the best thing I've ever witnessed," Ron whispered as he, Harry, Charlie, and Hermione had continued on their way into the Great Hall.
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Charlie was in such a good mood after witnessing Moody turn Malfoy into a ferret, that not even Snape and his scowl during Potions could bring him down. Which is why, when Thursday rolled around, he was practically jumping with excitement as the first Defence Against the Dark Arts class would happen, and apparently he wasn't the only one.
All of the Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early after lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson.
"Been in the -"
"Library." Charlie finished her sentence for her which made Hermione smile slightly. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."
Charlie, Hermione, Ron, and Harry hurried into four chairs right in front of the teacher's desk. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.
Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.
Then, he marched up to the chalk board, and wrote aggressively as he spoke to the class.
"Alastor Moody." He said, writing his name on the board. "Ministry malcontent, and your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. I'm here because Dumbledore asked me, end of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?" - he turned towards the class with a questionable look, but the students shook their heads in slight fear - "Very well. When it comes to the dark arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many unforgivable curses there are?"
Hermione raised her hand slightly, and spoke in tone that was mindful of offending their new teacher who was clearly on edge, "Three, sir."
Moody nodded, and the turned back to write on the chalkboard, "And they are so named?"
"Because they are unforgivable," Hermione said simply, "Use of any one of them will -"
"Will earn you a one way ticket to Azkaban. Correct." said Alastor, cutting the girl off mid-sentence, but failing to look at her. "Now the ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different! You need to know what you're up against, you need to be prepared - you need to find somewhere else to put your chewing gum other than the underside of your desk Mr. Finnigan!"
Charlie immediately turned his head, and was quite surprised to see Seamus placing gum underneath the desk.
"Aw, no way," Seamus muttered, "The old codger can see out the back of his head."
Suddenly, Moody whipped back around, and threw the piece of chalk aggressively in the direction of Seamus's seat, "And hear across classrooms!"
Moody then visibly calmed himself down, "So... which curse should we see first?"
Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron and Hermione's. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Seamus.
"Uh," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one... Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"
"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."
Moody walked away from the chalkboard, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Charlie saw Ron recoil slightly next to Harry -Ron hated spiders.
Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Imperio!"
The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.
Everyone was laughing - everyone except Moody.
"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"
The laughter died away almost instantly.
"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats..."
Ron gave an involuntary shudder.
"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and Charlie knew he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will."
"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he continued on with a bark, and everyone jumped.
Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.
"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"
Hermione's hand flew into the air again and this time, so did Charlie's. He had suddenly recalled one of the Unforgivable Curses that, for some reason, instilled a significant amount of fear in himself.
"Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Charlie.
"There's one - the Cruciatus Curse," said Charlie, in a soft yet distinct voice.
Moody was looking very intently at the boy, this time with both eyes.
"Your name's Hawthorne?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.
Charlie nodded reluctantly, failing to understand how that made a difference, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move.
"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Right then, come here boy,"
Without having time to realize it, Moody grabbed Charlie by the back of his robes, pulled him up from his chair and brought him towards the front desk while the entire class gasped in fear.
After he made sure Charlie's eyes were fixated on the spider, Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "Crucio!"
At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side.
No sound came from it, but Charlie was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. The curse had a weird effect on the boy, almost like a case of déjà vu. Whatever it was, a flush of fear had came over him, and beads of sweat had formed on the boy's forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear his eyes off of the spider as it squirmed in agony.
Moody didn't remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently -
"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly, watching Charlie's reaction with a worried glance."Can't you see it's bothering him?! Stop it!"
Charlie hadn't realized, but his hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified.
Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch.
"Pain," said Moody glancing in Charlie's direction, putting the spider back into the jar. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse... That one was very popular once too."
Charlie glanced up at Moody once more, who appeared to be hiding a twisted smile, before he moved back to his seat next to Hermione. When he sat down, the boy had tried to process what had just happened, but failed to understand every time.
Taking notice of his tensed state, Hermione had intertwined her hand with his under the table, instantly forgetting about their differences in that moment. Charlie flinched a little at the sudden contact, but fell into comfort as he looked up to look into Hermione's auburn eyes.
"Are you alright?" she mouthed, giving his hand a small squeeze.
Charlie didn't say anything, instead he just nodded. Believing this, Hermione went to untangled their hands, but he maintained a firm grip and kept them intertwined to which the girl had trouble hiding the obvious smile that crept up on her face - was he finally coming around?
Her thoughts, however, were cut short as Moody addressed the class once more, "Right... anyone know any others?"
Hermione's other hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.
"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.
"The Killing Curse," Hermione whispered.
Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Charlie, who's ears had perked up.
"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided mouth. "Yes, the last and worst, Avada Kedavra..."
He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.
Moody raised his wand, and Charlie felt a sudden thrill of foreboding.
"Avada Kedavra!" Moody roared.
There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air - instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him.
Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.
"Not nice," he said calmly before looking towards Harry. "Not pleasant. And there's no countercurse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."
Harry felt his face redden as Moody's eyes looked into his own; everyone else couldn't help but watch.
"Professor," he gulped, Moody staring down on him with a raised brow, "Has anyone ever tried to combine the Unforgivable Curses?"
Moody smiled wickedly, "Well, of course. Excellent question, Potter."
The Professor wobbled back over to the chalkboard, picked up chalk, and began to write, "Transmogrification Torture. A curse in which combines the effect of Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse, essentially torturing its victims to death."
He turned back around, "The incantation is Transfiguro Torqueo. Nasty curse that is, probably the greatest pain one will ever have to endure - but that's the point. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills... copy this down..."
They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. Charlie and Hermione hadn't untangled hands until the bell rang nor had anyone spoke - but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices - "Did you see it twitch?" "- and when he killed it - just like that!"
They were talking about the lesson, Charlie thought, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, but he hadn't found it very entertaining - and nor, it seemed, had Hermione.
"There's a reason those curses are unforgivable," she said as they were walking down a flight of stairs, "and to perform them in a classroom -"
"Oh, c'mon!" Ron rolled his eyes, "He was brilliant! Completely demented, of course. Terrifying to be in the same room with, he's really BEEN there, you know?"
Charlie or Harry had yet to say anything. They were simply trying to process the seriousness of the first lesson with Professor Moody; they hadn't expected it to turn so serious so fast. Yes, Charlie had been excited for the class, but after having witnessed it, he was honestly more scared for the future than excited.
"You agree with me, don't you?" Ron asked towards his two other friends causing Hermione to shake her head, "Wasn't he -"
An odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard. Moody turned his magical eye upon Charlie.
"You all right, are you, Hawthorne?"
"Yes," said Charlie, almost defiantly.
Moody's blue eye glaring slightly in its socket as it surveyed Charlie. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point in pretending..."
Charlie looked at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything. All the four of them did was watch the weird-eyed Professor walk back towards his classroom.
"What was that about?" said Ron, looking at Charlie warily.
"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive towards the brown eyed boy, who simply did nothing but narrow his eyes after Moody.
There was something bone-chilling about Professor Moody's remarks - something that was worth having fear over.
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Later in the evening, Charlie, Harry, and Ron sat in the common room, completing their homework. Harry and Ron were making up their untimely and unfortunate deaths for themselves as part of their Divination homework, while Charlie was scribbling down answers for a complicated Arithmancy equation.
The brown eyed boy couldn't help but to continue to try and process the unusual reaction he had had to the Unforgivable Curses in Defence Against the Dark Arts - was it normal to react that way to the Cruciatus Curse?
Just then, Hermione had come in through the portrait hole, carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other.
"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"
"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill.
Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.
"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically.
"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.
"You seem to be drowning twice," said Charlie with a small laugh as he moved to read over Hermione's shoulder.
"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."
"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione with a raised brow.
"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"
Hermione and Charlie raised their eyebrows.
"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.
Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation.
"What's in the box?" he asked, pointing at it.
"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents.
Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colors, but all bearing the same letters: S. P. E .W.
"Spew?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"
"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."
"Never heard of it," said Ron.
"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."
"Yeah?" said Charlie in mild surprise, realizing this was probably the reason why Hermione had been in the library so much recently. "How many members have you got?"
"Well - if you three join - four," said Hermione.
"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.
"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status - but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."
"Bloody shame," muttered Charlie with an amused smile, "that would've been one hell of a name to put on the badges. Is it too late to change it?"
Hermione sent a playful glare in the boy's direction before she brandished the sheaf of parchment at the three of them.
"I've been researching it thoroughly. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."
"Hermione - open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"
"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."
"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.
"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join - that buys a badge - and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron - I've got you a collecting tin upstairs - Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything."
Charlie furrowed his brows, "Forgetting about someone?"
Hermione turned to face him, a small smile playing on her lips, "Of course not. Charlie, I thought that maybe... you would want to be, uh, Vice President? The two of us would, you know, work one on one to figure out our plans of action...?"
The boy couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. Being Vice President meant spending more time with Hermione - alone, just the two of them. He had no idea why but the mere thought of that idea excited him.
"I would love to," he beamed causing Hermione to blush in excitement, "I'm in."
"Me too," Harry said with a small smile.
Ron huffed, "Fine."
There was a pause in which Hermione beamed at the three of them. The silence was broken, not by any of the Gryffindors, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Charlie looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.
"Hedwig!" Harry shouted as he followed Charlie's gaze, launching himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.
Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.
"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.
"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.
Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read. Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:
Harry,
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumors that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore - they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Charlie, Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.
Sirius
Harry looked up at his three friends, who stared back at him.
"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"
"My grandfather's reading what signs?" said Charlie, looking perplexed. "Harry - what's up?"
For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.
"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.
"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.
"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me!"
"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.
"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning."
With that, Harry stormed off to the dorm, just as the portrait door had opened once again, and in walked Ginny, who were clearly beaming.
Ron looked at his sister curiously, "What's got you so bloody happy?"
"Haven't you heard?" Ginny asked with a furrowed brow.
Charlie, Hermione, and Ron looked at one another with a confused glance before shaking their heads in the direction of the young ginger witch.
Ginny was practically jumping up and down from excitement, "The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang are arriving in the morning. McGonagall just made the announcement that we are to welcome them tomorrow evening with a big feast in the Great Hall!"
Charlie's eyes had widened slightly before he shook his head. Hermione was disappointed; she thought she could've had a bit more time with Charlie before Elaina came and ruined everything - and then there was Ron, who seemed just as interested as his sister.
"Great, another damn thing to worry about," muttered Charlie before he quickly excused himself to go up towards his dorm.
He didn't dare face Hermione in that moment. He didn't want to face the reality of the situation - when Elaina shows up, what's going to happen to his relationship with Hermione?
Guess Mr. Weasley was right - year four is the year of relationship drama...
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Author's Note:
*this chapter was not proof read*
Hope you enjoyed! Sorry about my slow updates, I've been visiting with family all weekend.
However, now updates should be back to normal! I'll try and update again later tonight - next chapter should be exciting!
Also, how long is too long for a chapter? I try to make longer chapters just in case I decide to take a break in between, just so you guys have more to read while you wait.
At the beginning of this book, chapters were about two thousand words, but now as my writing has improved, the chapters have been anywhere between four to six thousand words. Let me know what you guys want - I'm curious!
Much love to you all! I really hope you're enjoying the story as much as I am writing it!
[insert begging of votes and comments here lol]
xo, Selena