Just as I had predicted, the sixth years' free periods were not the hours of blissful relaxation Ron had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the vast amount of homework they were being set. Not only were we studying as though we had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. Nonverbal spells were now expected, not only in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration too.
It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; we were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in Herbology, but at least I was still allowed to swear loudly if the Venomous Tentacula seized me unexpectedly from behind.
One result of our enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing nonverbal spells was that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I had so far been unable to find time to go and visit Hagrid. He had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when we had passed him in the corridors or out in the grounds, he had mysteriously failed to notice us or hear our greetings.
"We've got to go and explain," I said, looking up at Hagrid's huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast.
"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" said Ron. "And we're supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti Charm from Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"
"We didn't hate it!" said Hermione.
"Speak for yourself, I haven't forgotten the skrewts," said Ron darkly. "And I'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear him going on about his gormless brother— we'd have been teaching Grawp how to tie his shoelaces if we'd stayed."
"I hate not talking to Hagrid," said Hermione, looking upset.
"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry assured her. "But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied. I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Hermione, suddenly impatient. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."
Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper. Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry.
"Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One'— well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?
"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway—"
"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," said Ron, shaking back his sleeves.
"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.
"I'm tall," said Ron inconsequentially.
"Ron," I said softly and put my hand in his.
"But you'll be there right?" Harry said suddenly turning to me.
"At trials? Yeah, Hermione and me," I smiled.
"You're trying out, yeah?" said Ron.
"What— why— no, not this year," I laughed awkwardly. "Too much going on with lessons a-and—"
"You were a good Seeker, I can't see why you can't be a Chaser!"
"C'mon, I need someone good on this team, Maise," Harry groaned. Ron's eyes narrowed at Harry and he quickly added, "Other than you, Ron."
Hermione nodded furiously at Harry's suggestion, as did Ron after he took his eyes off Harry.
"I— I don't think I'll make the team but—"
"Yes!" Harry cheered loudly, earning the looks from surrounding students.
The post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with droplets of water. Most people were receiving more post than usual; anxious parents were keen to hear from their children and to reassure them, in turn, that all was well at home. Over the last year, the only person who ever sent me or Harry any post was Sirius... but now, our only hopes were Lupin, who stopped writing me after he taught here. Nonetheless, I was very surprised to see the snowy white Hedwig circling amongst all the brown and gray owls towards Harry. She landed in front of him carrying a large, square package. A moment later, an identical package landed in front of Ron, crushing beneath it his minuscule and exhausted owl, Pigwidgeon.
"Ha!" said Harry, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a new copy of Advanced Potion-Making, fresh from Flourish and Blotts.
"Oh good," said Hermione, delighted. "Now you can give that graffitied copy back."
"Are you mad?" said Harry. "I'm keeping it! Look, I've thought it out —"
He pulled the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and tapped the cover with his wand, muttering, "Diffindo!" The cover fell off. He did the same thing with the brand-new book. He then swapped the covers, tapped each, and said, "Reparo!"
There sat the Prince's copy, disguised as a new book, and there sat the fresh copy from Flourish and Blotts, looking thoroughly secondhand.
"I'll give Slughorn back the new one, he can't complain, it cost nine Galleons."
"Harry, you can't just —"
"Anyone we know dead?" asked Ron in a determinedly casual voice, cutting me off. He posed the same question every time Hermione opened the Daily prophet she bought.
"No, but there have been more dementor attacks," said Hermione. "And an arrest."
"Excellent, who?" I said, thinking of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Stan Shunpike," said Hermione.
"Stan— What?" said Harry, startled.
" 'Stanley Shunpike, conductor on the popular Wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr. Shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home...' "
"Stan Shunpike, a Death Eater?" said Harry. "No way!"
"He was a little whacky, but not Death Eater material," I breathed.
"He might have been put under the Imperius Curse," said Ron reasonably. "You never can tell."
"It doesn't look like it," said Hermione, who was still reading. "It says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters' secret plans in a pub." She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. "If he was under the Imperius Curse, he'd hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?"
"It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did," said Ron. "Isn't he the one who claimed he was going to become Minister of Magic when he was trying to chat up those veelas?"
"Yeah, that's him," said Harry. "I dunno what they're playing at, taking Stan seriously."
"They probably want to look as though they're doing something," I said, frowning. "People are terrified— you know the Patil twins' parents want them to go home? And Eloise Midgen has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night."
"What!" said Ron, goggling at me. "But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we've got Dumbledore!"
"I don't think we've got him all the time," said Hermione very quietly, glancing toward the staff table over the top of the Prophet. "Haven't you noticed? His seat's been empty as often as Hagrid's this past week."
Harry, Ron, and I looked up at the staff table. The headmaster's chair was indeed empty. Now that I came to think of it, I had not seen Dumbledore since my and Harry's private lesson a week ago.
"I think he's left the school to do something with the Order," said Hermione in a low voice. "I mean... it's all looking serious, isn't it?"
None of us answered, but I knew that we were all thinking the same thing. There had been a horrible incident the day before, when Hannah Abbott had been taken out of Herbology to be told her mother had been found dead. We had not seen Hannah since.
On the brighter side, Quidditch trials weren't the absolute worse; much better than the first practice I'd ever practiced in. Almost the entire Gryffindor house tried out and watched— even a few students from other Houses tried to try out, but Harry quickly dismissed them. After two hours of painful trials, Harry chose the team: Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote replaced Fred and George as Beaters and Katie Bell, Ginny, and I were the new Chasers. Harry stayed the Gryffindor Seeker and Captain while Ron stayed the Keeper, much to Cormac McLaggen's dismay.
After fixing the time of our first full practice for the following Thursday, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I bade good-bye to the rest of the team and headed off toward Hagrid's. A watery sun was trying to break through the clouds now and it had stopped drizzling at last.
"I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty," Ron was saying happily. "That was a tricky shot Maisey, had a bit of spin on it —"
"Yes, yes, you both were magnificent," said Hermione, looking amused.
"I was better than that McLaggen anyway," said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. "Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been Confunded..."
To my surprise, Hermione turned a very deep shade of pink at these words. Harry and I gave each other a look as Ron noticed nothing; he was too busy describing each of his other penalties in loving detail.
The great gray hippogriff, Buckbeak, was tethered in front of Hagrid's cabin. He clicked his razor-sharp beak at their approach and turned his huge head toward us.
"Oh dear," said Hermione nervously. "He's still a bit scary, isn't he?"
"Come off it, you've ridden him, haven't you?" said Ron.
I stepped forward, first, and bowed low to the hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few seconds, Buckbeak sank into a bow too.
"How are you?" I asked him in a low voice, moving forward to stroke the feathery head. "Missing him? But you're okay here with Hagrid, aren't you?"
"Oi!" said a loud voice.
Hagrid had come striding around the corner of his cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. His enormous boarhound, Fang, was at his heels; Fang gave a booming bark and bounded forward.
"Git away from him! He'll have yer fingers— oh. It's yeh lot."
Fang ran out of the cabin and jumped on me, as I stepped away from Buckbeak, attempting to lick my ears. Hagrid stood and looked at us all for a split second, then turned and strode into his cabin, slamming the door behind him.
"Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!" I said, walking up to the door.
There was no sound from within.
"If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!" Harry said, pulling out his wand.
"Harry!" I gasped. "You can't possibly —"
"Yeah, I can!" said Harry. "Stand back —"
But before he could say anything else, the door flew open again and there stood Hagrid, glowering down at him and looking, despite the flowery apron, positively alarming.
"I'm a teacher!" he roared at Harry. "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"
"I'm sorry, sir," said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.
Hagrid looked stunned. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?"
"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"
"Oh, very clever," growled Hagrid. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little —"
Hagrid stood back to let us pass. Hermione scurried in after Harry, holding my arm for dear life.
"Well?" said Hagrid grumpily, as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat down around his enormous wooden table, Fang laying his head immediately upon my knee and drooling all over my robes. "What's this? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"
"No," said Harry at once. "We wanted to see you."
"We've missed you!" said Hermione tremulously.
"Missed me, have yeh?" snorted Hagrid. "Yeah. Righ'."
"Hagrid!" I groaned.
He stomped around, brewing up tea in his enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally, he slammed down four bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of us and a plate of his rock cakes.
"Hagrid," said Hermione timidly, when he joined them at the table and started peeling his potatoes with a brutality that suggested that each tuber had done him a great personal wrong, "we really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know."
Hagrid gave another great snort.
"We did!" I huffed. "But none of us could fit it into our schedules!"
"Yeah. Righ'," said Hagrid again.
There was a funny squelching sound and we all looked around: Hermione and I let out a tiny shriek, and Ron leaped out of his seat and hurried around the table away from the large barrel standing in the corner that we had only just noticed. It was full of what looked like foot-long maggots, slimy, white, and writhing
"What are they, Hagrid?" asked Harry, trying to sound interested rather than revolted, but putting down his rock cake all the same.
"Jus' giant grubs," said Hagrid.
"And they grow into...?" Ron trailed off.
"They won' grow inter nuthin'," said Hagrid. "I got 'em ter feed ter Aragog."
And without warning, he burst into tears.
"Hagrid!" Hermione and I cried. We both ran over and gave Hagrid a small hug.
"It's— him—" gulped Hagrid, his beetle-black eyes streaming as he mopped his face with his apron. "It's— Aragog. I think he's dyin'! He got ill over the summer an' he's not gettin' better. I don' know what I'll do if he– if he– We've bin tergether so long."
"Is there— is there anything we can do?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's frantic grimaces and head-shakings.
"I don' think there is, Hermione," choked Hagrid, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. "See, the rest o' the tribe. Aragog's family, they're gettin' a bit funny now he's ill... bit restive."
"Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of them," said Ron in an undertone.
"...I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo'," Hagrid finished, blowing his nose hard on his apron and looking up. "But thanks fer offerin', Hermione... It means a lot..."
After that, the atmosphere lightened considerably, for although neither Harry nor Ron had shown any inclination to go and feed giant grubs to a murderous, gargantuan spider, Hagrid seemed to take it for granted that we would have liked to have done and became his usual self once more.
"Ar, I always knew yeh'd find it hard ter squeeze me inter yer timetables," he said gruffly, pouring them more tea. "Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners —"
"We couldn't have done," I said, shaking my head. "We smashed the entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners when we were there last summer. It was in the Daily Prophet."
"Ar, well then," said Hagrid. "There's no way yeh could've done it... I'm sorry I've bin— yeh know— I've jus' bin worried abou' Aragog... an' I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh —"
At which all four of us stated categorically and untruthfully that Professor Grubbly-Plank was a dreadful teacher, with the result that by the time Hagrid waved us off the premises at dusk, he looked quite cheerful.
"Harry, Maisey, just the two I was hoping to see!" Professor Slughorn boomed genially, twiddling the ends of his walrus mustache and puffing out his enormous belly. "I was hoping to catch you both before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars, I've got McLaggen coming and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbin— I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries— and, of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favor me by coming too."
Slughorn made Hermione a little bow as he finished speaking. It was as though Ron was not present; Slughorn did not so much as look at him.
"I can't come, Professor," said Harry at once. "I've got a detention with Professor Snape."
"Oh dear!" said Slughorn, his face falling comically. "Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. And you Maisey?"
"I– I've got a bit of studying, multitasking and all —"
"Keen on your studies, aye? Much like Lily! Very well, I'll see you three later!" He bustled away out of the Hall.
"He's got no chance of persuading Snape," said Harry, the moment Slughorn was out of earshot. "This detention's already been postponed once; Snape did it for Dumbledore, but he won't do it for anyone else."
"Oh, I wish you both could come, I don't want to go on my own!" said Hermione anxiously.
"I doubt you'll be alone, Ginny'll probably be invited," snapped Ron, who did not seem to have taken kindly to being ignored by Slughorn.
After dinner, we made our way back to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was very crowded, as most people had finished dinner by now, but we managed to find a free table and sat down; Ron, who had been in a bad mood ever since the encounter with Slughorn, folded his arms and frowned at the ceiling. Hermione reached out for a copy of the Evening Prophet, which somebody had left abandoned on a chair.
"Anything new?" I said.
"Not really..." Hermione had opened the newspaper and was scanning the inside pages. "Oh, look, your dad's in here, Ron— he's all right!" she added quickly, for Ron had looked around in alarm. "It just says he's been to visit the Malfoys' house. 'This second search of the Death Eater's residence does not seem to have yielded any results. Arthur Weasley of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon a confidential tip-off.' "
"Yeah, mine!" said Harry.
"When did you do that?" I asked.
"I told him at King's Cross about Malfoy and that thing he was trying to get Borgin to fix! Well, if it's not at their house, he must have brought whatever it is to Hogwarts with him —"
"But how can he have done, Harry?" said Hermione, putting down the newspaper with a surprised look. "We were all searched when we arrived, weren't we?"
"Were you?" said Harry, taken aback. "I wasn't!"
"Oh no, of course you weren't, I forgot you were late," I gasped. "Well, Filch ran over all of us with Secrecy Sensors when we got into the entrance hall. Any Dark object would have been found, I know for a fact Crabbe had a shrunken head confiscated. So you see, Malfoy can't have brought in anything dangerous!"
"Someone's sent it to him by owl, then," he said. "His mother or someone."
"All the owls are being checked too," said Hermione. "Filch told us so when he was jabbing those Secrecy Sensors everywhere he could reach."
Harry looked really stumped and looked hopefully at me and Ron, who was sitting with his arms folded, staring over at Lavender Brown.
"Can you think of any way Malfoy —?"
"Oh, drop it, Harry," said Ron.
"Listen, it's not my fault Slughorn invited Hermione, Maisey, and me to his stupid party, neither of us wanted to go, you know!" said Harry, firing up.
"Well, as I'm not invited to any parties," said Ron, getting to his feet again, "I think I'll go to bed."
He stomped off toward the door to the boys' dormitories, leaving Harry, Hermione, me staring after him.