Chapter Twelve – Sirius Black, Among Other Things:

Astoria reached the Great Hall for breakfast on the morning of Ravenclaw's next Quidditch game to find the castle unusually buzzing with excitement.

She caught snatches of conversations as she wove her way to the Ravenclaw table.

"Gryffindor's Seeker –"

"Potter's got a Firebolt, have you heard?"

"Blimey, a real Firebolt. They cost a fortune –"

"Top of the line broomstick. England's national team uses them."

Astoria stopped, hardly believing her ears. A Firebolt. A Firebolt? No one got Firebolts – at least not students. Gryffindor couldn't have a Firebolt. Ravenclaw was going to be creamed….

She looked over her shoulder to see that a crowd had pressed around the Gryffindor table, hiding any glimpse of the said broomstick.

"Harry Potter's got a Firebolt?" said a familiar voice. Astoria looked to see that it was Stephan, talking to Mark and standing from their seats, as if debating whether or not to see for themselves.

"He couldn't –" said Mark, his voice laced with distress. "We haven't got a chance."

"Fastest broom in the world," whispered Stephan in awe. "How do some people get all the luck?" They left to get a closer look.

Astoria slunk onto the bench at the Ravenclaw table and doled out a portion of porridge, feeling gloomy. Mark was right, Ravenclaw hadn't any chance, not against a bloody Firebolt. Potter should be penalized. There should be something in the rules –

"What's all the commotion?" said a voice. Astoria jumped because it was Sara. She spoke as if to anyone but Astoria had the uncomfortable feeling that Sara was really addressing herself to her.

Astoria didn't know whether or not to answer. "Er – it's a Firebolt," said her lips.

"What's a Firebolt?"

"It's a broomstick."

"Oh…and why is everyone so excited about it?"

"It's a really good broomstick."

"Oh," said Sara again, and looked contemplative. "Anyone sitting here?" the bench was empty but Astoria shook her head anyway. Sara climbed up, Melissa – whom Astoria had just noticed – sat next to Sara. She looked uncomfortable and kept fidgeting.

"So," said Sara, "what's Ravenclaw's chances then, for the cup?"

"Probably not very good, now that Gryffindor has a Firebolt."

"But that's just one broomstick against seven, right?"

"It's the Seeker's though. He's who really counts."

"Harry Potter, right?"

"Yeah," somewhere in the back of her mind Astoria wondered how this conversation had even started, and whether or not she was actually still dreaming in her bed.

Sara helped herself to a large portion of eggs. "Looks like a nice day," she said companionable, gesturing with her fork to the ceiling which showed clear white skies.

"Yeah," said Astoria, completely mystified.

"How's your Transfiguration essay coming along?" said Sara.

"Fine," said Astoria.

"I feel like Transfiguration would be so much more fun if Professor McGonagall didn't spend so much time on theory."

"Yeah," said Astoria. She didn't know what was going on. She snuck a look at Sara out of the corner of her eye, trying to detect any animosity or hint of betrayal – like what had happened in the library. But Sara looked completely friendly, was even smiling and waving her hands like she usually did when she talked.

Astoria wondered if she should wait it out, warily proceed and catch the bomb before Sara dropped it. Ravenclaws were supposed to be shrewd and cunning – but no, that was Slytherins. Ravenclaws were supposed to ask questions because Ravenclaws wanted to know the answers.

"What are you playing at?" said Astoria, cutting Sara off. Whoops. That hadn't come out – well, it hadn't come out quite as she would have liked it to.

Sara stammered. Her cheeks turned red, but not Astoria realized, with anger. She looked embarrassed. "I – I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not playing at anything."

Astoria looked her full in the eye, trying to detect an untruth.

"Really," Sara insisted. "I'm just trying to be friendly."

Astoria nodded slowly, trying to portray her mistrust but at the same time trying to give an indication to proceed. Her mother was so good at this, body language, politics, and diplomacy. Astoria didn't know where to begin.

Sara took a deep breath, as if to steady her voice, which was shaking. "I – basically Astoria I wanted to say I was sorry. I – maybe I haven't treated you very well these past weeks."

Once again Astoria wondered if she was dreaming. So unthinking, so out of the blue – She became aware that perhaps she was supposed to say something, in agreement or dive in with an apology of her own. "I – I'm sorry, too," she started. "I – some of the things…shouldn't have…." Her tongue was twisting, obstructing her voice from coming up her throat. She hurriedly searched her mind for something to be sorry about, other than Sara being a Muggle-born and Astoria was technically not supposed to affiliate with her because Muggle-borns were technically not proper witches.

But they were. Professor Lupin said they were. But Astoria's mother said they weren't.

But Sara was here now, talking to Astoria, apologizing to Astoria, and Astoria had just apologized back….

"I honestly can even remember what I was so angry about," said Sara with a grin.

Astoria couldn't comprehend this. Confused snippets of thought were running through her mind: her mother and Daphne, Professor Lupin, the look on Sara's face when Eris and Livonia had said some of the things they had. Somehow she didn't feel at all like the crowded breakfast table in the Great Hall was the right place to be having this conversation.

"I can't remember what I was angry about either," said Astoria, her voice working again because there had been another pause, something that told her she was supposed to be responding.

"M sorry, too," mumbled Melissa from behind Sara. Astoria had quite forgotten she was there, and could certainly find no reason why she should be sorry about anything.

"And I," noises were coming from Sara's mouth again. "That is, if you want to – I'd very much like to try being friends again." Melissa was nodding her head frantically from behind Sara's shoulder.

Astoria forgot to wonder about Daphne and what her sister would think, what she would do if ever she discovered Astoria was talking to a Muggle-born again. She even forgot to think of her mother, whom was at home and not at Hogwarts and perfectly ignorant of everything that went on as long as Astoria didn't put it in a letter – or Daphne, as long as Daphne didn't put it in a letter.

"I guess so," said Astoria's lips. "I guess I might want to try…being friends again."

Sara's face split into an immense smile. "Oh, I'm so glad!" she said, and was suddenly reaching over to engulf Astoria in a hug.

Astoria frantically thought for a moment of pulling away, of leaping up and shrieking don't touch me! But that was Daphne. That was Daphne. And Astoria caught her breath in her throat and let Sara's arms squeeze her ribs until it hurt. She even almost smiled at Melissa, still hiding behind Sara's shoulder.

Astoria learned that when Harry Potter was Seeking in a Quidditch match, the game was apt to be anything but unexciting.

The whole thing had happened very quickly. Ravenclaw trailed thirty points to eighty but then the commentator was shouting, "Harry's seen the Snitch…. Chang follows – oh, good show, Harry! Only a fake by Gryffindor Seeker there – Look at that Firebolt go! … What's this? Harry has seen the Snitch!"

Everyone was screaming and jumping up and down on their feet. Sara was shrieking by Astoria's side and the excitement was contagious so that she felt something swell in her stomach.

Harry Potter was a red blur on his broomstick, diving towards the ground. Cho Chang was frantically following him parallel from below.

"Go! Ravenclaw, go!" Sara screamed.

"Come on, Harry!" yelled the commentator, "You're going to beat her! Don't stop! What are you doing –?" the commentator faltered. The crowd collectively gasped.

"Oh no! Not again…." said Sara. Astoria felt her stomach churn.

Harry Potter was flying directly into the path of three tall and menacing dementors. Cho Chang pulled her broomstick sharply up and away. Potter kept going. Astoria felt her voice tear from her throat, "He's going to fly right in –"

Potter did indeed seem unconcerned with the dementors right in his path, or else he had lost control of his broomstick. Suddenly there was a blinding flash of silvery light. The three dementors tumbled. Madame Hooch's whistle shrieked and Harry Potter rose, fist clenched above his head. In seconds he was obscured by the rest of his teammates.

"Gryffindor wins!" screamed the commentator into his megaphone so that the sound reverberated off of the bleachers and made Astoria's ears ring. "Spectacular catch by Gryffindor Seeker! Well done, Harry! Take that you lousy dementors!"

The jumble of black robes was stirring on the pitch below. Professors were running forward, wands raised. A blond-tipped head emerged from the folds of black.

The commentator swore loudly but sounded triumphant, "Take that you lousy Slytherins! It'll take more than that to unseat our Seeker! With his Firebolt!"

"What a horrible trick!" Sara declared.

A retort leapt to Astoria's lips, but she choked it down before it could be given a voice. She remembered that she and Sara were making another go at being friends. Besides, it was a dirty trick… even though Daphne had always said Draco Malfoy was a force to be reckoned with.

"Too bad Ravenclaw lost," Sara said when they climbed down from the bleachers moments later. "But it was a climatic way to end it."

"Did you see that Firebolt?" Stephan came running up to the girls, face red from suppressed excitement. "If Ravenclaw could get their hands on one of those Gryffindor still wouldn't be able to hold a candle to us."

"We're out of the running for the cup for sure now," said Mark, sidling up after Stephan. He looked glum and out of sorts. "Slytherin just had to butt it, didn't they? Chang would have caught up if they hadn't distracted her!"

"They didn't distract Harry Potter, though," said Sara. "That was amazing – whatever he shot at them! It was like Dumbledore, wasn't it? At the first match?"

"It was almost as if he knew they weren't dementors," said Mark sinisterly. "Maybe they had it all planned –"

"Gryffindors and Slytherins would never plan anything together," said Astoria.

Stephan and Mark looked at her, jaws falling open in shock.

"What are you doing here?" said Stephan.

Astoria felt hot blood creep up her cheeks. She had almost forgotten –

"Oh, Astoria and I are friends again now," Sara chirped.

Stephan looked between Sara and Astoria with an expression that spoke of suspicion, almost as if he was considering enchantments.

"Really, Stephan," Sara insisted. Again Astoria almost opened her mouth to say something nasty, provoked under Stephan's gaze, but again she stopped herself. "We've both cleared everything up."

Stephan didn't say anything, only narrowed his eyes in distrust.

"Oh," said Mark, evidently too dejected about Ravenclaws loss to care. "Whatever you say."

They went in to lunch together and then afterwards discussed what to do with the remainder of their Saturday. It was a half-way decent afternoon as far as weather was concerned and Sara suggested wandering outside by the lake.

The five of them traveled in a group across the grounds and further discussed the match, touching upon whether or not Ravenclaw had any more chance for the cup, Harry Potter's Firebolt, and the incident with the Slytherins. Many of the other students were about, as it really was quite a nice day. The sky was clear and it was pleasantly cool with only a hint of wind. Most of the snow had melted and over the lake the giant squid was breaking the ice with its tentacles.

"What are you honestly planning, Greengrass?" said a voice, and Astoria turned to see that it was Stephan. The rest of the group was a little way ahead of them. Stephan had halted and lowered his eyebrows. He looked grim.

Astoria faltered. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," said Stephan darkly.

"I assure you I do not," said Astoria, and put every ounce of haughtiness she possessed into the sentence. A sudden vision of her mother, standing before Wizengamot and making a particularly intelligent point, jumped to mind.

"I know what kind of a pure-blood you are," Stephan continued. "I know who your sister is and I know she hangs out with that Parkinson girl."

"Don't you dare bring my sister into this," said Astoria.

"I want you to leave Sara alone," he said.

"This is none of your affair. Sara and I are – are friends now and I'll do as I please."

"I don't want you to hurt her."

"I don't plan on hurting her."

"Then what are you planning?" he demanded. "It has to be something. What do you hope to gain by lying to her, and using her –"

"I am not!" the vision of her mother was gone and instead Astoria was reminded of Daphne and her arguing over some pathetic and finite point. "Don't pretend like you understand the situation."

"I do understand it," said Stephan, eyes flashing. "A pure-blood like you wouldn't be caught dead telling people they were friends with a Muggle-born. I might only be half-blood but I've been in the wizarding world all my life and I know what you are."

"You don't know anything!" Astoria snapped. Her voice came out louder than she had intended. "And don't act like you know me!" Astoria wracked her brains for retorts with more substance. She couldn't explain because she didn't understand. She didn't know her.

"What's your ulterior motive?"

"I haven't got one!" She said. Her face was getting warmer and warmer. Her whole head felt as if it was getting hot, as if she might explode.

"Just stay away from Sara!"

"You just stay away from me!"

"I'll be watching you, Greengrass. And I swear, if I find out what you're planning and if it has anything to do with Sara –"

"Stephan, Astoria, what are you doing?" Sara's voice drifted back to them.

Stephan tore his eyes away from Astoria's. They didn't say another word but hastened to join the rest of the group – and act as if nothing had happened.

Breakfast the next morning was another curious affair. Astoria had expected a lot of buzz about the Quidditch game the day before but she had not expected to arrive at the Great Hall to find the place in an uproar.

It was similar to when the Firebolt had arrived. Once again a great many of the students had accumulated around the Gryffindor table. Once again rumors were flying about as if they had sprouted wings.

"Sirius Black!"

"Got in again, did you hear?"

"Weasley's going on about it –"

"…happened last night."

"What's happened?" said Sara, looking around as she, Astoria, and Melissa reached the Ravenclaw table.

Mark and Stephan rushed over, both looking positively enamored.

"Did you hear?" said Mark.

"Sirius Black!" Stephan declared.

"Again?" said Melissa.

"He got in last night," said Stephan. Astoria thought uncomfortable of the things that had passed between them the day before but he seemed unconcerned. He didn't even seem to notice her. His eyes were glistening with excitement.

"Why haven't we heard before now?" said Sara.

"Apparently he only got into the Gryffindor common room," Mark crowed. "Nearly stabbed a kid!"

"Oh my goodness!" Sara said, sounding breathless but ecstatic. "Who? Who did he go after?"

"One of Harry Potter's friends," said Stephan. "Rob – Roland – I don't know…. A Weasley, though. The kid with the red hair." He pointed across the hall to the Gryffindor table.

"Ronald," said Mark.

"Which kid with red hair?" said Sara, climbing onto the bench to get a better look.

"The younger one. The one surrounded by all the people." More and more students were filing over to the Gryffindor table as the news spread. Professor McGonagall had left the staff table to work as arbitrator.

Astoria caught a brief glimpse of the boy in the center of all the attention. A tall and lanky boy with flaming red hair and freckles, immediately apparent as a Weasley. Of course Astoria had heard of the Weasleys. There wasn't a pure-blood child alive who hadn't been bred on gossip of the Weasley family's fall from grace. A dirty clan of blood-traitors the lot of them, was the general opinion.

"Where are you going?" said Stephan to Sara, whom had hopped down from the bench.

"Detective work," she answered cryptically and flounced off to interrogate Ronald Weasley, pushing through the crowd of admirers who had accumulated around him.

"Was anyone hurt?" said Melissa.

"Nah," said Mark with a shrug. "Apparently Black was frightened off after Weasley saw him."

Astoria pulled up a seat at the table and absentmindedly chewed on a sausage link, but her mind was otherwise engaged in the bits and pieces of conversation circulating through the hall.

"How could Black have gotten in again?" said Melissa, sitting beside Astoria.

"I'd think with all the dementors he wouldn't have been able to manage it," said Stephan, sitting on the other side of Melissa.

"He got in at Halloween, though," said Mark, completing the row by sitting beside Stephan.

"But there have been loads of other security measures taken since then…" said Melissa.

"What do you expect from the only man to ever break out of Azkaban?" said Mark.

"You don't suppose he is getting inside help?"

"I wonder what he wants," said Stephan. "Everything seems to be pointing to Gryffindor, doesn't it? It was their common room last time, too."

Astoria had just thought of something, "How did he manage to get into their common room?" she asked. "The others have passwords, don't they?"

To her utter astonishment it was Stephan who answered, not sounded snappish at all, but then again, perhaps he had forgotten his argument with her in the excitement. "That's true! He must have an accomplice!"

"What, one of the students?" said Mark dubiously. "They would be the only ones who knew the Gryffindor password."

"Or a teacher," said Stephan. It was obvious that Sara had converted him to her way of thinking. "Maybe Professor McGonagall – she's head of Gryffindor House."

Just then Sara returned, skidding to a stop and eyes aglow. "I was just talking to him. He said he actually fought him! Ronald Weasley fought Sirius Black! Forced Black's knife away from his throat, he said. Maybe broke Black's arm!"

"Did he say anything about how Black got in?"

"He said Black had used a note with all the passwords written on it! Someone's been keeping track! It must have been left out on purpose for Black to find!"

Astoria felt something touch her shoulder but it was a minute before she realized it was someone tapping, trying to get her attention. Astoria turned and saw it was Daphne.

Her sister was frowning. Astoria wildly thought of Sara and whether or not Daphne had noticed – but Daphne hadn't come over to discuss the Muggle-born, "I've written to Mum," she said. "She'll want to hear about this. Although I can't say I'm the least bit surprised, with Dumbledore as Headmaster."

Astoria nodded hastily, hoping with all she had that Daphne would not see Sara. But Daphne was already turning away and going back to the Slytherin table. Her friends were waiting for her, equally as animated by the news.

The students talked nothing of Sirius Black for the rest of the morning. People lingered over their breakfast tables long after all their food had been eaten, talking with friends and rushing over to discuss it with students from other houses.

When they finally left the table and headed back to the Ravenclaw common room – it was just as nice a day as the day before but no one felt much like venturing outside – Astoria noticed that tighter security measures were already being put to order. They passed the caretaker, Mr. Filch, plastering board on the cracks in the walls. He leered at them unpleasantly as they went by, as though wondering if they were sneaking Sirius Black under their robes.

"I still don't understand how he manages it," said Melissa when they were in the common room, tucked into a corner and away from the rest of the students, a great deal of whom seemed to have similar ideas of staying inside. "No one's ever done something like this."

"Someone who can escape Azkaban must be able to do anything," said Stephan.

"I'm surprised Black didn't just kill this Ronald Weasley," said Mark. "He's murdered before, and I think Weasley's just a third-year, plenty easy to pick off."

Melissa shuddered. "Oh stop. That's creepy."

"The dementors must be in a fit," said Stephan. "I don't think Black has much of a chance of going back to Azkaban once he's caught."

"What do you mean?" said Sara.

"The Minister's given the order for Black to be kissed on sight –"

"Kissed?"

"It's when dementors suck out someone soul," said Stephan.

"Ew," said Sara. "That's terrible. But that – that's like giving the order someone is wanted dead or alive, but without the 'or alive' part. Shouldn't the dementors try to take him in before they decide to kill him?"

"And what?" said Mark, "Risk him escaping again? The Ministry can't risk him slipping through their fingers. That's what my Dad says. It's why they didn't give Black a trial in the first place. They couldn't risk him getting away unpunished."

"He didn't get a trial?" Sara sounded, for no earthly reason Astoria could think of, positively abhorred.

"Of course not," said Mark.

"But – but that," stammered Sara in obvious disbelief, "That's illegal!"

"Illegal?" said Mark, "He murdered thirteen people!"

"Still," said Sara, "My Dad's a lawyer, I know about things like this. One can't – can't just throw someone into prison without due process of law."

"What?"

"Well, the evidence has to be examined –" said Sara, "Plus, there's habeas corpus –"

"What kind of a spell is that?" said Astoria. Besides, how would Sara know a spell Astoria didn't?

"It isn't a spell," said Sara as if it was the most obvious of things. "It's the right of someone to be brought before a judge."

"Right?" said Mark, "Sirius Black hasn't any rights!"

Sara looked shocked. "But – but he's a human being…."

"Are you defending him?" said Mark. "He's a Death Eater!"

"Death Eaters are merely people with differing political views –" snapped Astoria, completely echoing her mother in a way she never had before. She realized what she was saying and whom it was to and promptly shut her mouth.

"They're murderers!" said Mark in outrage, turning on Astoria.

"But they're still people," said Sara, "And every human being has the right of habeas corpus and the right to be tried before a jury – at least in Britain we do, and most of the rest of the world."

"What's a jury?" said Stephan.

Sara's mouth fell open. "You don't know? A jury is twelve people and they – they decide on the verdict."

"You mean just those twelve people would decide whether or not Black was guilty or send him on his way?" said Mark. "That's outrageous. What if they stocked this jury with a bunch of his Death Eater pals?"

"Well," said Sara, "You're supposed to find people who don't know anything about the case so they won't be biased…."

"Everyone knew about Black's case," said Mark.

Sara was looking put-out. "Well then. If you haven't got juries, how do you decide cases?" She added sarcastically, "If the person is fortunate enough to get a trial?"

"That's what the Wizengamot is for," said Stephan, sounding rather more gentle than Mark. "It's used for all criminal cases, I guess. About fifty wizards and witches who've been appointed vote after they've heard both sides –"

"But that's terrible!" said Sara. "That's majority rule – you can't use that in a courtroom!"

"Why not?" demanded Mark.

"Because," said Sara. "There's so much room for corruption. What if you get a room full of people who all think the same way already – are already convinced of guilt or innocence. Plus, it would be so easy to bribe people that way –"

"As if juries are much better," said Mark with a snort.

Sara looked flustered, "Of course they are! I've already told you the jurymen wouldn't know anything about the case beforehand so they couldn't have already made up their minds about the verdict. And it would be very difficult for someone to bribe any of the jury because of security and screening processes. And then the defensive council can always apply for an appeal…."

"You mean even after this jury convicts someone they person can still get out of it?" said Mark.

"Goodness gracious hasn't anyone ever read To Kill a Mockingbird?" said Sara.

"What in the name of Merlin has a mockingbird got to do with it?" said Mark. Astoria agreed with him.

Sara pushed on, "So Black was put into a room with a bunch of people who were already convinced he was guilty – regardless of the evidence…."

"No he wasn't!" said Mark indignantly. "Black didn't even get a trial. We've already told you."

"That – that's completely –" said Sara as if searching around for a word strong enough to express her outrage, "That's flawed!"

"It works perfectly well!" said Mark angrily. "The Muggle way is flawed!"

"It is not!" snapped Sara.

"Is to!" said Mark. "If Muggles would work to try and convince each other that Sirius Black was innocent then there's something serious wrong with their justice system! At least us wizards have got the right man in prison."

Sara looked affronted. "I'm not going to spend any more time arguing with you. I'm going up to write my father – maybe he can explain it."

"I'm not listening to any more of it!" said Mark.

Sara stalked away, leaving Mark steaming. Stephan followed her, looking apologetic. Astoria heard his voice drift back to them, "You said your father's a lawyer. What's a lawyer?"

Sara muttered something, stomped her foot, and marched up the flight of stairs leading to the dormitories, leaving Stephan behind her.

Stephan turned to look at Mark and shrugged.

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed it. Review?