CHAPTER ELEVEN

The Firebolt

How was it that no one had told Harry about Black before? How was it that his own uncle and aunt, Dumbledore, even Mr Weasley managed to keep away that his parents were dead because their best friend betrayed them? Mr Clark had told Liam that he lied about Venus Sting because he was ashamed to have him as a friend – up until the point he intercepted them on the Hogwarts grounds to tell them that he hadn't been there to kill Liam. Could it have been the same with Black? If so, Mr Clark had a valid reason. He could understand that. If Harry had befriended someone that caused Liam's death, he would not forgive them nor remember that they ever existed in his life.

But the rest? Aunt Ange knew about Venus Sting, then she must've known Black. Sunderland said she'd been there in Blair's "glory days", meaning she should have been around the same time Black was. He met Cornelius Fudge once in his life and they had talked about a matter concerning the Dursleys and Black, why couldn't he have told him then? Dumbledore and Glumberry obviously knew the story, and Harry had been up in their office far too many times than he was supposed to.

Harry knew Hermione, Ron, Tessa and Liam would want to talk to him about it – especially Liam – but he didn't want to talk to any of them. His parents were dead because Black betrayed them! The only one he knew would understand him was Liam, but even he couldn't fully relate. His parents were still alive, regardless to whether they were captured or not. They could still live another day, smell the fresh air and know that their son would come back home after working tirelessly throughout the year.

He was happy when Percy sat too close to them to have a discussion on Black during dinner, and at the fact that Fred and George caused a Dungbomb explosion in the common room. Harry had gone straight up to the boys' dormitory and found the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him for Christmas. With that, he sat on his bed, drew the hangings around him and paged through the dozens of photos of his parents.

"Harry?" came Ron's voice.

Harry lay still, pretending to be asleep. After a while he heard Ron leaving, closing the door behind him.

He continued to page through the photo album, and then he came to the one of his parents' wedding. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. And his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his Dad. And next to them ... that must have been him ... it must have been Sirius Black. Harry had never given it much thought before.

If Harry hadn't known that Black was their best man, he would never had guessed that this man was Black. His face was handsome, not sunken and waxy. He seemed full of laughter. Harry wondered if he had already been working with the Dark Lords by then. Had he been planning the deaths of the two people standing next to him? Did he realise that he would be facing twelve years in Azkaban, or had he thought he was too good for the Ministry?

"Harry?" this time Liam came in, and he wasn't fooled. "I know you're not asleep. C'mon, we need to talk."

A silenced followed when Harry didn't answer. He waited and hoped that in time Liam would leave, like Ron had. Liam didn't stir, he kept waiting. Harry didn't answer still, and he then heard his cousin shuffling.

"At least take a look at this," said Liam. Harry heard something moving from his bedside table, and then the door closed shortly after.

Harry didn't act immediately. He sat in his bed wondering if what Liam wanted him to see was really worth it. Curiosity got the best of him. He pulled away his hangings and reached for what was on his bedside table, picking up a photograph. He drew the hangings around him again, and looked at the photo.

Liam had told him that his father had a picture of him with Venus when they still thought he was as guilty as Black. He never showed him the picture when they hadn't known the truth about Venus, and he didn't seem to remember it when everything became clear. But now it was in Harry's hands, and he couldn't find the significance about it.

He stared down at the photograph. His Uncle Tom was beaming at him, winking as he always did. Venus stood beside him, arms interlinked. They were both still at Hogwarts here. He could tell by the clothes they were wearing; matching robes with striped ties. They didn't look very old, Harry could say they were about fifteen or sixteen.

There were two men zooming in and out of the photo, as though they were racing each other and trying to cause as much havoc as possible in the process. Then suddenly their faces appeared next to Thomas Clark and Venus Sting. Two boys with black hair, both the same age as his uncle and godfather. One wore circular glasses and incredibly messy hair, resembling Harry so much that he wouldn't have been shocked if he looked exactly like him when he reached age fifteen.

His father's hand ran through Thomas Clark's hair, tousling it until his uncle's curly, brown locks had been just as messy as James Potter's. The other black-haired stranger had grabbed Venus into a headlock, and then ruffled his hair with his fist until Venus grabbed his bearings and pushed him off and out of the frame. James Potter would disappear into the background and, whilst Uncle Tom and Venus neatened up their hair, resumed his chaotic running rampart with who Harry identified as Sirius Black.

Harry stared at the picture five times over just to make sure that the man that had tackled Venus and rumpled his hair had been the notorious Sirius Black. He looked lively and handsome, just as he had been in his mom and dad's wedding photo, although slightly younger. Looking at the mischievous grin on Black's face reminded Harry about when Venus would grin. There was a naughty look on Venus's face whenever he did, like he was planning his next greatest prank.

The photo didn't work as consolation, it only taunted him. Hatred filled Harry as he examined the pictures in his mind. In both, Sirius was laughing at him, provoking him. In the wedding photo, Black's face pulled into a wicked sneer ... and in the other photo, Black holding Venus in a headlock almost looked as though he was intending to strangle him. He pictured Black blasting Peter Pettigrew into tiny little pieces. He could hear (though he had no idea what Black's voice might sound like) a low, excited mutter. 'It has happened, my Lords … the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper …' And then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that Harry heard inside his head whenever the Dementors drew near …

The first thing Harry heard when he walked down to the common room was an outburst of what seemed to be croaks. Liam had collapsed onto the long couch, enduring, yet trying to control, his rapid fit of inflamed coughs. Then he realised that the common room was empty, with the exception of Ron, who had been eating a Peppermint Toad, Liam, who seemed to be putting up a fight with his weak knees, and Hermione and Tessa, who both had their homework spread over eight tables.

"You look terrible," commented Liam.

"You're no ray of sunshine, either," said Harry.

His cousin had gone paler and developed a greyish hue, giving off such a sickly glow that not even his usually-red cheeks were lively.

"Me? I'm fit as a fiddle," declared Liam, sounding as though his nose had thick wads of cotton stuck up it.

"That's one weak fiddle," said Harry.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.

"I'm fine," said Harry.

"Harry, listen," said Tessa. She exchanged looks with Hermione, and then with Ron (her eyes flittered to Liam, but she cringed and looked away). "You must be really upset about what you heard yesterday, Liam didn't take it well, either. But – you mustn't do anything stupid."

"Like?" asked Harry.

"Going after Black," said Ron.

This was a very rehearsed conversation, he could hear that, and they seemed to think just like his aunt and uncle, who had stopped him before boarding the Hogwarts Express to make him promise not to do just that. At the time it seemed foolish, but now he didn't know what he wanted to do. He felt an anger purging through him, trying to compel him to take revenge in order to avenge. His parents deserved to live, Black didn't. What Black deserved was what Cornel and Fudge had once offered Venus, a fate worse than death – whatever that meant.

Hermione and Tessa both looked up from their work, concern riddled on their faces. Harry thought he must have stayed silent for a while if it brought Hermione and Tessa away from their work.

"You won't, will you?" asked Hermione.

"'Cause Black's not worth dying for," said Ron.

The only one who didn't chip in his perspective was Liam, who lay hidden behind the backrest of the long couch. Either he was too sick to comprehend the conversation or he was just as upset as Harry was about what he heard – if he didn't take it well, either. Perhaps he would have understood a lot more than Harry thought after all. But at the moment he was talking to Hermione, Ron and Tessa, the three people he knew wouldn't understand.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ron, Tessa and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive. There was shuffling on the long couch, meaning Liam was tuned in after all. "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 –"

"Harry, you can't do anything," said Tessa, looking stricken.

"The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and – and serve him right!" said Hermione, the same expression on.

"Fudge said that Black isn't affected like the rest. It's not a punishment for him," said Harry.

"So what – you want to – to kill Black?" asked Ron.

There was another shuffle on the long couch and Harry could just make out Liam's hair nestled on a pillow lying on the arm.

"Of course he doesn't, Ron! Don't be silly!" said Tessa in a fearful voice.

"Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?" asked Hermione with just as much panic in her voice.

Harry didn't answer once again. He still didn't know what he wanted to do. All he knew was that doing nothing, whilst Black was free, was more than he could stand. Although, he couldn't help wondering just how uncomfortable his cousin was about this whole situation. Was he truly upset about what Black did? Did he want to avenge James and Lily Potter as much as Harry did? Or was Harry's absence of voice frightening him just as much as Hermione, Ron and Tessa?

"Black's dangerous, Harry," raised Ron furiously. "If you go after him you might end up like Pettigrew. D'you know what his mother got after Black was finished with him? Dad told me – the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous! If you –"

"I bet Malfoy and the McElroys know!" blurted Harry.

Another shuffle on the long couch.

"Their fathers were both in the Dark Lords's inner circle – they must've told them about Black," said Harry. "They obviously knew about Black –"

"– and they'd just about do anything to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip, those three are just hoping you'll get yourself killed before Malfoy 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," said Tessa, tearing up, too, "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.

Another silence, another shuffle. Crookshanks, Hermione's furry orange cat, had leaped onto the window sill nearby and stretched, 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 and Dreagon. We haven't visited them for ages!"

"No!" said Hermione and Tessa quickly.

Hermione continued, "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron –"

"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask Hagrid 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, nor was it in Liam's because there was another shuffle. Judging by the position of his head, Liam's back was against the backrest, as if to say he wasn't going to come if they were going to talk about Black again.

In any fact, Harry wouldn't have gone after Black even if he could. As stupid as it may sound, he sealed the Lightning Promise with his uncle, and by the way Liam reacted when he explained it, breaking a Lightning Promise wasn't something you even thought about doing.

If anything frightened Liam more than spiders and Ronan Droge it was Harry's life in danger. He'd lost his uncle and aunt and he was sure he didn't want to lose his cousin. He cared for him, even if it didn't seem like he was the type. Harry was someone who could always get Liam. He could always count on Harry to understand in his times of trouble, but what bothered him was that Harry might not have thought the same.

Liam sometimes thought that Harry doubted he could trust him. The thought was almost absurd, but when he walked into the boy's dormitory last night to talk to Harry, it was almost as though any existence of the belief was never real. He knew Harry was awake. He knew because the two of them were so alike. If he was in Harry's position, he wouldn't have slept, either. There was too much to take in, too much to think about ... sleeping seemed ridiculous at a point like that.

Even for Liam, sleep was hard to come by. His father had lied to him once about the relationship between him and Venus Sting, and now he'd kept the same secret about Sirius Black, too. Liam began to wonder whether he could trust his father. He'd lied twice about the same thing, that he'd been friends with a murderer. Why lie about something like that? Why tell your son, right in his face, that the man that stood beside him in a photo was just some Slytherin jerk he didn't know. Why not mention he at least knew Sirius Black and Venus Sting? Why say he didn't know the two best friends he'd ever had?

Liam had anger for his father for not telling him, but then it cooled down when he realised his father wasn't the only one at blame. His mother had known Black, too, and she kept quiet about the matter. Professor Sunderland, who was one of his favourite teachers alongside Von Seiler and perhaps the most talkative one of all, had been at Hogwarts the same time Black had been and he hadn't yet heard her say his name. But the one he was most furious with, the one whose anger had been converted from his father, was Venus Sting.

James Potter, Thomas Clark, Venus Sting and Sirius Black were the best of friends, according to Madam Rosmerta and Blair. He could forgive his father for not telling the truth, he wasn't at Hogwarts. Venus was. He was also his godfather and Liam could trust him as much as he did his parents. And Liam could tell Venus knew he was trusted. Why persist in his teaching career if he didn't? He had all the time in the world to tell Harry and Liam about Black. That he was locked away not only for clearing a street of innocent lives, but because he worked with the Dark Lords, telling Lord Voldemort where the Potters were in order to have them killed.

They never left each others' sights.

Madam Rosmerta's words made it seem like the four of them had been the best of friends, that everyone knew that Potter, Clark, Black and Sting would stand arm in arm until the end. Had the Potter's death seem like such a momentous occasion for Black? Had he been happy when they'd been killed, and did he realise he put the life of an innocent young boy on the line?

Liam wondered what mishap might have strayed such a strong relationship. What had happened to Black to force him into betraying his best friend? What had happened to make Black kill James and Lily Potter?

He set the thoughts aside as he slept, and the anger that enraged him the previous night was gone. However, once he got out of bed, every bit of his body ached. He had a splitting headache that nearly brought tears to his eyes. He could barely lift his arms to hold the bedside table in order to stop his knees from buckling. He had to muster most of his withering efforts to walk, and more of it to prevent rolling down the stairs to the common room. From then on, he flopped onto the long couch and never stopped coughing since.

Until Harry had come looking like he did. When he spoke, it reminded Liam about the thought that ran through his mind the previous night. It frightened him to know that if his mind was set to last night's thoughts he would have wanted to go after Black, too. He sorely wanted to meet his Uncle James and Aunt Lily, avenging them seemed the better option. But what frightened him most was that Harry wanted to put his own life in danger. He couldn't lose him, too.

When Ron had suggested that they go visit Hagrid and Dreagon, Liam was up for it. But when Harry had mentioned that he was going to ask Hagrid why he never told him about Black, he managed to pull himself around on the long couch to maybe gesture that he didn't want to come if they were going to talk about Black again.

However, he could use some enlightenment and perhaps Hagrid and Dreagon would successfully evade a conversation about Black. Although he doubted there would be any kind of happy discussion when they arrived at the giants's hut – which resembled much of an iced cake.

Liam took his potions before leaving to ensure that he could at least move without his knees locking every other time, and he knocked the door to prove that he was just as he said: fit as a fiddle. There was no answer.

"They can't have gone out, could they?" asked Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

"I can't imagine anyone would go out with the Dementors," said Tessa, whose nose was as red as her hair.

Ron put his ear to the door.

"I can hear something," said Ron, screwing up his face, "weird, though. Listen."

Harry, Hermione and Tessa put their ears to the door, Liam didn't want to risk falling over again.

"Now come, Rubi," said Dreagon, who was talking over what seemed to be sobs, "I'll dish you some of me grandmum's best Baumunchen Sugar Cake!"

In that instance, Liam smelt something delightful, despite the cold, thin air. It smelt of freshly made wafer, cream, strawberry and a tinge of something he couldn't identify, but was just as wonderful to smell. He was amazed at how much he could smell considering his nose was blocked up. He sniffed and looked up at the chimney, which was emitting a sort of pinkish smoke.

"Maybe we should –" began Hermione, but Harry yelled.

"Hagrid! Dreagon! Open up! It's us!"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Dreagon stood there wearing an apron over his leather waistcoat that was smeared with a sticky, pink-creamy colour. He looked surprised to see them.

"Yeh've heard, I suppose?" asked Dreagon grimly. He stepped aside to let them in and the strawberry wafer pancakey smell overwhelmed Liam so much that his knees nearly buckled again. His eyes immediately turned to the fire where a large cauldron hung, bubbling with the same pinkish smoke he saw outside.

"Err – have a seat, I guess," said Dreagon wiping his hands on his sticky apron. "Baumunchen Sugar Cake. Dreagon recipe fir years," he said with a smile, pointing at the cauldron. "Dunno why it's called a cake. Nothin' 'bout it is spongey. All creamy and liquid, I'll say – but it's good. I followed me grandmum's recipe. As ripe as I'll ever 'member it."

Liam doubted anything Dreagon made was anywhere near good, but the smell of his baking seemed too good to turn it down.

"An' if yer want, der's some Christmas Eggnog I made earlier," said Dreagon, but Liam knew he must have added at least a little alcohol. "Didn' add too much alcohol, just a little. Hagrid an' I aren' too keen on drinkin' much over Christmas. Too much festive cheer ter drink."

"Where's Hagrid?" asked Harry. Liam was afraid his determination to question Hagrid about Black was still fresh in his mind.

"Waitin' fir the cake ter finish," said Dreagon in an entirely different tone. "Upset 'bout Buckbeak."

"Why? What happened?" asked Tessa.

"'Member Draco's little scratch he got from Buckbeak?" asked Dreagon. They all nodded. "He told his father and he brought it up with the Ministry ... as though their little inspection wasn' enough."

"Mr Malfoy and Mr McElroy inspected you?" asked Liam. He remembered that day. It was the same day that man – or Sargas Scorpiosting – came to warn them about the school becoming ill.

"Yeah," sulked Dreagon gruffly. "They said they'd be lookin' 'round the Hippogriff paddocks for signs o' harm. They found me garden an' learnt all me plants were fertilised in Mooncalf dung. Then they found me Mooncalf, Moonbeam, just grazing the grass in her own little stable. Told me it was illegal ter be restrain' a Mooncalf without registration, I told them they can file a complaint with the Headmasters. Dumbledore an' Glumberry registered Moonbeam, you see. I'm surprised she came out of her burrow. Mooncalves only come out during a full moon."

"And what about Buckbeak?" asked Hermione.

"Buckbeak? Oh, poor Rubeus!" said Dreagon. He gave her a letter.

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 and Professor Glumberry that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.

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

A long list of the school governors followed after.

"But Buckbeak's not dangerous!" said Ron.

"Yeah, Malfoy's just a baby!" added Liam.

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!' said Dreagon. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures! I was surprised when tha' no good ferret Ellington didn' take away Moonbeam."

A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, Liam, Tessa and Hermione whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

"We couldn' leave him tied up in the snow," said Dreagon. "He'd be all on his on. On Christmas."

"You'll have to put up a good strong defence," said Hermione. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won' make no diff'rence," said Dreagon. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! An' if I lose the case, Buckbeak – Buckbeak meets an unfortunate turnout."

Liam could guess what he meant by that.

"What about Dumbledore and Glumberry?" said Harry.

"They've done more'n enough fer us already," groaned Dreagon. "Got enough on their plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around –"

Liam looked at Harry, and he wasn't the only one. Hermione, Ron and Tessa had the same idea. He half-expected Harry demand Hagrid's presence in order to reproach him for not telling him about Black, though he could sense that Harry wouldn't have had the heart to do it, even if Hagrid had been with them.

"What about your parents, Liam?" asked Harry. It was both an attempt to help and to stop the rest from looking at him. "They got Venus out of jail, how much d'you want to bet they could help Buckbeak?"

"I wouldn't count on that," said Liam. Three owls already and none had a response.

"Eh, yeh parents are too busy anyway," said Dreagon. "Look, Hagrid hasn' been himself lately. An' I don' think people like our lessons, either. An' them damn Dementors aren' makin' anything better. Reminds us both of our time in Azkaban."

Dreagon looked away for a moment. Liam, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Tessa sat silently. They had never heard Dreagon or Hagrid talk about their time in Azkaban.

"I don' – err – don't want ter go back to tha' cruddy prison," said Dreagon gruffly. "And I don' think Hagrid would like ter either."

It was wishful thinking, but Harry and Liam sent an owl to Mr and Mrs Clark anyway. Dreagon seemed pretty upset about it and Hagrid couldn't have been any better. It was the best chance they got but not the only. The following day, Ron, Hermione, Liam, Harry and Tessa went to the library and returned to the common room with a countless numbers of books. They spent the entire day looking through dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.

Despite the fact that nearly everyone had left for the holidays, Hogwarts had been decorated for Christmas. Mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armour, which all held candy cane weapons and wore gingerbread badges. The corridors had thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars.

On Christmas morning, Liam was woken up by Ron. He had thrown a pillow at him.

"Oi! Presents!"

Liam's eyes fixed on the mound of presents on the foot of his bed. He was hopeful that his parents may have sent him and Harry something for Christmas, which would have cleared his one theory of why his parents hadn't been communicating with them: that something may have happened to them. But he searched through his presents for his mother's elegant cursive or his father's big, sloven print and he found nothing. Since he heard of what Black did, Liam couldn't help but think that he had his parents in captivity, ready to use them as leverage should he need to. He was scared to think that Sirius Black had remade what Ronan Droge had done.

They would have been the second set of best friends Black would have betrayed.

Liam decided to put the thought aside and replace it with something more welcoming. His parents were just busy, that's all. They were always busy.

Harry, Liam and Ron all got jumpers from Mrs Weasley. It had been his first present from the Weasley family and he had to say he probably appreciated it more than Ron and Harry combined. He was sick and cold all the time, and he hadn't brought much jackets and sweaters because his mother usually sent at the beginning of winter, so his blue jumper with a green 'L' in the middle had made his day.

"Fits," said Liam as he slipped it on.

With that he tucked himself tight in his bed and dug into the dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake and a box of nut brittle.

"What's that?" said Ron.

"Dunno …" said Harry.

He had heard the rough crinkle of the wrapper.

"I don't believe it," said Harry hoarsely. Liam didn't have time to look up before his cousin said, "Liam?"

"What –" his eyes bulged and his mouth hung open. Liam goggled at the broom for far too long. And then he saw Harry was looking at him with a smile on his face, and his heart sank as he realised that his cousin had thought he had bought the broom for him. "I didn't get it for you."

Harry's face fell, "B-but you said it yourself. Back in Diagon Alley – you said one day –"

"B-but I couldn't afford it," said Liam, stricken.

"Then who sent it?" asked Harry.

"Err – Glumberry – Dumbledore?" asked Liam.

"Yeah, Dumbledore got you the Cloak ..." said Ron, hopefully.

"But the Cloak was my father's," said Harry. "He was just passing it down to me."

"Lupin?" asked Ron.

"I can't imagine Lupin buying something like this. Too much gold," said Liam, thinking. "Perhaps Venus?"

"Maybe," said Harry. "He is our godfather ..."

"But then again he would have been more than happy to put his name on it," said Liam.

"And he would have bought you something equal the price – which would have probably bankrupted him," said Harry.

"Maybe mum and dad?" asked Liam. "They may have gotten you something with the money in our vault."

"Would they have had enough?" asked Harry.

"Dunno ... part of the reason I didn't use the money was because I wasn't sure I was allowed to use that much," said Liam.

"Did you get anything from them?" asked Harry.

"No ... which means they didn't get it for you," said Liam.

"Who sent you that?" asked Hermione, who had barged in with Tessa, Crookshanks cradled in her arm.

"Must have cost them a fortune," said Tessa.

"We don't know," said Liam.

The three of them were surprised when both Tessa and Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by this news. Their faces fell and Hermione bit her lip.

"What's the matter with you two?" asked 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.

"I get where you're going Hermione," said Liam. Hermione didn't seem to like the fact that he caught on, and Ron wasn't getting it still. "But no one would spend that amount of money on Harry just to harm him. It's just a broom, it won't do anything to him."

Before Hermione could rebuke him, Crookshanks sprang from her arms, right at Ron's chest.

"GET – HIM – OUT – OF – HERE!" yelled Ron. Crookshanks's claws ripped his pyjamas and Scabbers was scrambling away behind his shoulder to safety. Ron grabbed Scabbers by the tail and then tried to kick at Crookshanks, but narrowly missed and instead got Harry's trunk, which fell and landed on the floor. Ron hopped about on the spot, howling in pain.

Liam, snug in his bed and away from the chaos, had put his fingers in his ears. A shrill, metallic whistling was filling the room. Harry's Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Uncle Vernon's old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor. It wasn't loud for Liam, it was just very spontaneous and annoying.

"I forgot about that," said Harry, picking up the Sneakoscope, which whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing at it.

"You better get that cat out of here, Hermione," scolded Ron furiously. "Can't you shut that thing up!"

Hermione and Tessa strode out of the room with Crookshanks, and Harry had stuffed his Sneakoscope back in his socks, throwing it back in his trunk. Ron had been nursing his toe on the foot of Harry's bed, Scabbers huddled in his hands.

"Cosy much?" Harry asked Liam.

"Very," replied Liam, with a content smile. "That rat of yours doesn't look too good."

Ron had told him once that his rat was so fat he could barely carry him around in his chest pocket, but he had hard time believing that since that very same rat was now very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out, too.

"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine if that bloody furball left him alone!"

There wasn't much Christmas spirit in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione locked Crookshanks in the girl's dorm, but she wasn't very happy with Ron for trying to kick him. Ron, however, was not pleased that Crookshanks had tried eating Scabbers, and Harry gave up trying to get them to talk to each other. He sat with his Firebolt on one of the armchairs because Liam had brought down his blanket and was snug on the long couch, dozing off with the heat of the fire on his face. Tessa was reading a book – was that that stupid romance book she was fretting about last year – on an armchair nearby Liam.

At lunchtime they found that the house tables in the Great Hall had been moved aside, and a single table stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, Glumberry, Snape, Flitwick, Sprout, Von Seiler, McDonald, and McGonagall were there, along with Filch and Gray. There had only been three other students: a very nervous-looking first year, a very grumpy-looking Slytherin fifth-year and –

"Violet?" asked Liam. "How come you're never in the common room?"

"I went for the holidays and came back today," said Violet. "My mom's really busy and my dad's been really sick so I couldn't make it home for Christmas because mom would be off for some work-related things and she didn't want to leave me with dad, so she sent me back. They wanted to see me at least."

"Please, have a seat, will you?" said Glumberry, gesturing to five seats at the table. "Merry Christmas."

"Well, tuck in," said Dumbledore. "Victor, the kitchens have prepared a spectacular meal for you. Foxglove duck seasoned with borage, mistletoe and lovage –"

"Isn't lovage practical for inflaming the brain?" asked Hermione, looking doubtfully at the duck that was specially set aside for Professor Von Seiler.

"You forget that I'm the living dead, dear Hermione," said Von Seiler.

"They've also prepared your favourite Gurdyroot gravy to go with it," said Glumberry. "And for dessert: Goosegrass Christmas cake with a tinge of Vervain."

"Isn't Vervain poisonous to vampires?" asked Liam.

"No, it's most commonly used to heal bites from big dogs or werewolves," said Von Seiler. "But I wouldn't blame you if you mistook it for a similar substance that is quite poisonous to vampires. Venenare, but it is only poisonous to the Sampiro Hirudo – Pumilio for the blood-suckers."

"Oh," said Liam.

"In fact, the school has a protective barrier laced with Venenare to prevent the bloodthirsty vampires from breaching the school grounds, to keep from students becoming vampires themselves, of course," continued Von Seiler.

"We've also planted Lamiconitum trees in the Forbidden Forest, limiting the place in which the Sampiro Hirudo can wander," said Professor Sprout, whose patched and battered hat was set beside her on the table. Her robes were cleaner than usual, but they were still covered in dirt and earth. "Vampires have an aversion to the Lamiconitum trees as it is highly poisonous to them, so we've aimed to plant large ones because the bigger the tree, the more land it takes up and thus keeping vampires far away from Hogwarts."

"Not to you, of course, professor?" Liam asked Von Seiler.

"Oh, no. Lamiconitum berries are one of the Veggie Vampire's favourite dishes," said Von Seiler, pouring his Gurdyroot gravy all over his Foxglove duck. "You have to understand there are differences between Sampiro Hirudo and Sampiro Olus."

"Sorry I'm late!" boomed Professor Bud's voice from across the hall. He came bobbling in, his long robes dragging across the floor and his pot-plant hat bouncing from side to side; Liam feared it would fall and break. "I mistakenly fertilised my Tentacula leaves with Flobberworm mucus."

"Oh dear," gasped Professor Sprout.

When he came closer, Liam could see dozens and dozens of bite marks on his face and hands, and his glasses were more skew than usual.

"They weren't very friendly after that," said Professor Bud. "Again, apologies for my tardiness."

"It's not a problem, Benjamin, have a seat," said Professor Dumbledore.

The gawky professor wobbled to a seat next to Professor Sprout, adjusted his pot-plant hat and his glasses, then dug in – countlessly missing the plate of roast with the poker and nearly getting Violet instead.

"Speaking of late staff, would any of you happen to know where Scarlet, Remus and Venus are?" asked Glumberry.

"Not to forget Wilber," said Dumbledore.

"Wilber has gone to meet some family of his, as did Venus," said Snape. "Remus has fallen sick once more."

"And Scarlet has gone to spend Christmas with her sister, Lisa," squeaked Flitwick.

"Speaking of the ill," said Glumberry, "Liam, are you well?"

"Hmm – yeah – yeah – sorry," said Liam, a faded hint of red flushed his gaunt cheeks. "Fine – been taking my potions regularly – double dosages."

"Good," said Dumbledore.

Two hours later, the feast was over and Harry, Liam and Ron rose to leave first. Dumbledore and Glumberry made it very fun with bursting crackers. Harry was fortunate enough to open a cracker with Glumberry, and Liam got to open one with Von Seiler.

"May the rest of your Christmas be good," said Glumberry, beaming as Liam had finished taking the last of his potions.

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Liam, who still hadn't recovered from taking two helpings of the Byrrus Potion.

"Coming?" Ron asked Hermione and Tessa.

"No," said Hermione.

"We just want a quick word with Professor McDonald and Professor McGonagall," said Tessa.

"All right," said Harry, and he, Liam and Ron went off to the Gryffindor Tower.

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 and toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Merry – hic – Christmas! Password?"

"Scurvy cur," said Ron.

The door swung open and Harry immediately went up to the dormitory, got his Firebolt and the broomstick servicing kit Hermione had gotten him for his birthday and brought them back down. He tried to find something to do with it, but the broom was already in perfect condition that there was nothing to do. Harry and Ron sat admiring it, whilst Liam nearly dozed off on the long couch, already cocooned in his blanket. However, the moment Hermione and Tessa walked in with Professors McGonagall and McDonald, Liam seemed to forget that he was drowsy.

He sat up, although still wrapped in the blanket, and watched as the two Heads of Gryffindor House strolled in. He had never seen either of them in the common room before, so it must have meant trouble. What he found curious was that Hermione sat and hid herself behind a book – which was upside down – and Tessa disappeared behind them, sitting in the darkest corner of the common room where all their homework had previously been.

"Miss Granger and Miss Williams have just informed us that you were sent a broomstick, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, gazing warily at Harry's Firebolt.

Ron and Harry looked at Hermione. Liam imagined she must have been going pink behind that upside down book of hers.

"May I?" asked Professor McDonald, but she didn't wait for Harry to give it to her, she took it out of his hands. "And there was no note, Potter?"

"No," said Harry directly.

"I see ..." said Professor McGonagall, peering over McDonald's shoulder at the perfect broomstick she held in her hands. "Well, we're afraid we are going to have to take this, Potter."

"What!" Harry yelled, standing. "Why?"

"It has to be checked for curses and jinxes," said McDonald. "I'm sure Madam Hooch, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sunderland would oblige to doing it."

"But Sunderland's off for the holidays!" said Ron.

"Which is why we're not promising an early return," said Professor McGonagall. "I daresay they might need to strip it down."

"Strip it down?" repeated Ron.

"But, Professor –"

"No buts, Potter, it's for your own safety," said Professor McDonald. Her hawkish features seemed to keep Harry and Ron at bay.

The two professors walked out of the common room with Harry's Firebolt in hand. Liam's eyes had gone to Tessa and Hermione. He knew what they were thinking from the moment they laid eyes on that broomstick. Harry gets sent the thing he most wanted by an unknown benefactor, and it just so happens that he has a murderer on his tail.

Ron turned to Hermione, probably because she was the closest, and asked, "Why'd you two go running off to McDonald and McGonagall for?"

Liam answered, "Because they think it was sent by Sirius Black."