A/N Thanks for the continued support, hope you like this chapter! :)
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nasty Surprises
There was a nasty surprise waiting for them the next morning at breakfast. Hermione received her Daily Prophet and immediately gave a yelp after reading the front page. Amara, who was sat next to her, leant over and gasped as she saw what was on the cover. There were ten black and white photos that filled the majority of the page – nine of which had males in them, the last, a woman's. They were all jeering or looking insolent at them from their photos and it made Amara's blood boil. Underneath the pictures were captions that included their names and the crime they committed, and was sent to Azkaban for.
"What?" Harry and Ron had said together after Amara had gasped too. Hermione, saying nothing, flattened out the newspaper so the two boys could see the horrifying photos too.
Amara started reading the captions under the photos.
The first was of a wizard with a long pale face.
Antonin Dolohov – convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.
There was a bored looking wizard with greasy hair next to Dolohov.
Augustus Rookwood – convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic Secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.
Amara scanned through the others, feeling sick.
Rabastan Lestrange – convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Rodolphus Lestrange - convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom.
Solomon Travers – convicted of the ruthless murders of the McKinnon family.
Dominic Mulciber …
Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Amara gulped as she looked at the picture with the
Amara glanced up to see the headline and read it in horror and disbelief.
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR OLD DEATH EATERS
The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.
Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.
"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."
"Black?" said Harry loudly as Amara finished. "Not — ?"
"Shhh!" whispered Hermione desperately. "Not so loud — just read it!"
Harry and Ron read the article too as Amara stared at the picture of the heavy lidded, messy haired Bellatrix Lestrange staring out of the newspaper.
"There you are, Harry," said Ron, looking awestruck when he finished. "That's why he was happy last night. . . ."
"I don't believe this," snarled Harry, "Fudge is blaming the breakout on Sirius?"
"What other options does he have?" said Hermione bitterly. "He can hardly say, 'Sorry everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort' — stop whimpering, Ron — 'and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out too.' I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?"
Hermione ripped open the newspaper and began to read the report inside.
Amara wasn't hungry anymore, so she pushed her plate away feeling quite queasy. Around her was the happy chatter of the students who had no idea what had happened. Amara hadn't realised how little the people around her read the Daily Prophet, even though it kept spreading lies about Harry and Dumbledore, which some people believed anyway. Looking up, she saw the same situation when she looked up at the staff table the day after Mr Weasley got attacked. Professor Dumbledore was talking seriously with Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout, whilst reading her copy of the Daily Prophet, was dripping her food all down herself.
I can't believe they're blaming this on Sirius, Amara thought miserably. Why can't Fudge just take his head out of his -
"Oh my —" Hermione interrupted her thoughts in a wondering voice, still staring at the newspaper.
"What now?" said Harry quickly.
"It's . . . horrible," said Hermione, looking shaken. Amara looked over her shoulder once again to read.
TRAGIC DEMISE OF
MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER
St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a pot-plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death. Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr Bode's ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement, "St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident.
"We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare, which, when touched by the convalescent Mr Bode, throttled him instantly.
"St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."
"Bode . . ." said Ron. "Bode. It rings a bell. . . ."
"We saw him," Hermione whispered. "In St. Mungo's, remember? He was in the bed opposite Lockhart's, just lying there, staring at the ceiling. And we saw the Devil's Snare arrive. She — the Healer — said it was a Christmas present. . . ."
Amara remembered the Healer giving the plant to Bode, who'd been mumbling things in a different language.
"How come we didn't recognize Devil's Snare . . . ? We've seen it before . . . we could've stopped this from happening . . ."
"Who expects Devil's Snare to turn up in a hospital disguised as a potted plant?" said Ron sharply. "It's not our fault, whoever sent it to the bloke is to blame! They must be a real prat, why didn't they check what they were buying?"
"Oh come on, Ron!" said Hermione shakily, "I don't think anyone could put Devil's Snare in a pot and not realize it tries to kill whoever touches it? This — this was murder. . . . A clever murder, as well. . . . If the plant was sent anonymously, how's anyone ever going to find out who did it?"
"Why would they want Bode to die?" Amara wondered out loud. "What'd he do?"
Hermione and Ron had no answer, but Harry was looking thoughtful.
"I met Bode," he said slowly. "I saw him at the Ministry with your dad . . ."
Ron's mouth fell open.
"I've heard Dad talk about him at home! He was an Unspeakable — he worked in the Department of Mysteries!"
They looked at one another for a moment, each of them deep on thought. Why was Bode in the hospital anyway? If he was an Unspeakable, in the Department of Mysteries, surely there was something dangerous in there that he touched and was taken ill from ... Or maybe someone did it to him ...
Hermione pulled the newspaper back toward her, closed it, glared for a moment at the pictures of the ten escaped Death Eaters on the front, then leapt to her feet.
"Where are you going?" said Ron, startled.
"To send a letter," said Hermione, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. "It . . . well, I don't know whether . . . but it's worth trying . . . and I'm the only one who can . . ."
"I hate it when she does that," grumbled Ron as he, Amara and Harry got up from the table and made their own, slower way out of the Great Hall. "Would it kill her to tell us what she's up to for once? It'd take her about ten more seconds — hey, Hagrid!"
Amara glanced over and saw Hagrid standing in the entrance hall, still looking very battered.
"All righ', you three?" he said, trying to muster a smile.
"Are you okay, Hagrid?" asked Harry, following him as he lumbered after some Ravenclaws that had gone past.
"Fine, fine," said Hagrid with a feeble assumption of airiness; he waved a hand and narrowly missed concussing a frightened-looking Professor Vector, who was passing. "Jus' busy, yeh know, usual stuff — lessons ter prepare — couple o' salamanders got scale rot — an' I'm on probation," he mumbled.
"You're on probation?" said Ron very loudly, so that many students passing looked around curiously. Amara kicked him.
"Ouch - sorry — I mean — you're on probation?" he whispered.
"Yeah," said Hagrid. "'S'no more'n I expected, ter tell yeh the truth. Yeh migh' not've picked up on it, bu' that inspection didn' go too well, yeh know . . . anyway," he sighed deeply. "Bes' go an rub a bit more chili powder on them salamanders or their tails'll be hangin' off 'em next. See yeh, Harry . . . Ron . . . Amara ..."
He walked away and Amara was left feeling like she'd been dumped into the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim first. That was three lots of bad news they'd received in the period of about half an hour. As they walked away too, Amara decided that it was not going to be a good day.
-OOOOO-
Hagrid being on probation spread quickly around the school, but no one really cared that much. In fact, some of them - especially Malfoy - were gleeful and talked happily about him soon leaving the position.
But the news on Hagrid was squashed when he Daily Prophet article soon spread amongst the students. Everyone heard about the ten escaped convicts - and it started up a lot of rumours about where they were and who they were with.
They all thought that they wanted to break into Hogwarts, which Amara found stupid because they had no reason too - Sirius did because he wanted to find Pettigrew and Harry.
The news was so popular that the article on the dead Ministry worker was swept aside, so it seemed Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione (as well as the teachers) were the only ones who knew and cared about it.
There were relatives of the victims which the ten Death Eaters had either killed or tortured. Neville, for one, but also Susan Bones, who had had an uncle, aunt and cousins fall from the hands of one of the ten, who was rather miserable that they had escaped.
It seemed that people were also realising that the Prophet was no longer that truthful - the students were having doubts about their theories and were now looking at Harry with curiosity instead of hostility.
The day after the Azkaban escape report, a new decree was placed up around the school.
"Not another one," Hermione had said as they had walked across the common room to see it blazing out in front of them.
"What does it say?" Amara said, and the two girls went over to read it.
— by order of —
THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
Teachers are hereby banned from giving students any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-six.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
"They don't want them talking about that Daily Prophet article!" Amara said grimly.
"It doesn't make the Ministry look good - having ten convicted Death Eaters escape Azkaban," said Hermione. "With them insisting Voldemort's not back, then having Death Eaters escaping, they can't exactly pretend they made a tiny error, can they?"
Harry and Ron had seen the sign too, so had everyone else. There was talk of it at breakfast, but people were still preoccupied with the Death Eaters to notice too much, or didn't really think it was necessary. Many of the students found it a joke - Lee Jordan got detention for telling Umbridge she shouldn't tell Fred and George off for playing Exploding Snap at the back of her classroom because it didn't have anything to do with the subject.
As the teachers couldn't talk freely in the staff room anymore, not with Umbridge snooping around, they were always whispering in the corridors outside classrooms.
"They obviously can't talk freely in the staffroom anymore," said Hermione in a low voice, as she, Amara, Harry, and Ron passed Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout huddled together outside the Charms classroom one day. "Not with Umbridge there."
"Reckon they know anything new?" said Ron, gazing back over his shoulder at the three teachers.
"If they do, we're not going to hear about it, are we?" said Harry angrily. "Not after Decree . . . What number are we on now?"
"Twenty-six," said Amara.
Umbridge was even more furious now after the ten escapees had become common knowledge. She was inspecting every single Care of Magical Creatures lesson, and apparently from Harry and Ron, every Divination lesson too. It came down the question of: who was going to be sacked first - Hagrid or Trelawney.
Amara obviously wanted Hagrid to stay, but he was not exactly putting a very good show on. He was jumpy all the time, but he at least wasn't showing them anything dangerous anymore.
When Hagrid forbid them to visit him anymore, Harry started redoubling his efforts for the D.A.
Everyone was working much harder now that the news of the ten Death Eaters on the loose. Neville was making the most effort in the meetings - he hardly ever spoke, especially to Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione about St. Mungo's or about Bellatrix Lestrange escaping Azkaban. He worked so hard he was very nearly the best in the class when learning new spells.
Amara herself increased her efforts - her father had written to her telling her that they'd received a copy of the Daily Prophet with the ten escapees in. Jesse and Adrien were now going to check if they were alright occasionally. Amara hated the idea of her parents being in danger - all their children were magical, but they couldn't defend themselves if the Death Eaters came to see them.
Harry was having concerns about his Occlumency lessons, which he told the three of them.
"Maybe it's a bit like an illness," said Hermione, looking concerned. "A fever or something. It has to get worse before it gets better."
"It's lessons with Snape that are making it worse," said Harry flatly. "I'm getting sick of my scar hurting, and I'm getting bored walking down that corridor every night." He rubbed his forehead angrily. "I just wish the door would open, I'm sick of standing staring at it —"
"That's not funny," said Hermione sharply. "Dumbledore doesn't want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn't have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You're just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons."
"I am working!" said Harry, looking put out. "You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it's not a bundle of laughs, you know!"
"Maybe . . ." said Ron slowly.
"Maybe what?" said Hermione rather snappishly.
"Maybe it's not Harry's fault he can't close his mind," said Ron darkly.
"What?" Amara said.
"Well, maybe Snape isn't really trying to help Harry. . . ."
Amara, Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other.
"Maybe," he said again in a lower voice, "he's actually trying to open Harry's mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —" "Shut up, Ron," said Hermione angrily. "How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough."
"He used to be a Death Eater," said Ron stubbornly. "And we've never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . ."
"Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione repeated. "And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone."
"I can trust Dumbledore," muttered Amara so that only Ron could hear. "Doesn't mean who he trusts is right."
Ron nodded in agreement, but they caught Hermione's eye and stopped.
-OOOOO-
February soon washed in, along with warmer but wet weather, and Amara was shocked at how fast time had gone. Hermione seemed eager to tell Amara something, so she made her tell her a few days before the Hogsmeade trip, when they were alone in the dormitory.
"I wrote to Rita Skeeter," said Hermione.
"What?" Hermione hates Rita Skeeter, what was she going writing to her?
"See, I had this idea - now that everyone's kind of doubting the Ministry's view, she could record Harry's full story about the night Voldemort returned!"
"Er," Amara said, finding a flaw. "She doesn't work for the Daily Prophet anymore - and they definitely would not publish it."
"I asked Luna about getting it published in The Quibbler," said Hermione. "And I can get Rita to write exactly what Harry says, or else I'll tell the Ministry she's an unregistered Animagus."
"That's brilliant," said Amara, grinning. "So, has she replied?"
"Not yet," said Hermione. "I hope she does by Saturday ... I hope Harry's able to do it on Saturday."
"I'm sure he'll do it," said Amara.
"You can come too," said Hermione.
"I'm not sure," said Amara. "You don't really need me ... But maybe I will turn up."
On the day of Hogsmeade trip, Hermione received her answer.
"And about time! If it hadn't come today . . ." she said eagerly, tearing open the envelope and pulling out a small piece of parchment. Her eyes sped from left to right as she read through the message and a grimly pleased expression spread across her face. Amara guessed Rita had said yes.
"Listen, Harry," she said, looking up at him, as he and Ron has just arrived at the table. "This is really important. . . . Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday? Amara's probably coming too."
"Well . . . I dunno," said Harry dubiously. "Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do."
"Well, bring her along if you must," said Hermione urgently. "But will you come?"
"Well . . . all right, but why?"
"I haven't got time to tell you now, I've got to answer this quickly —"
And she hurried out of the Great Hall, the letter clutched in one hand and a piece of uneaten toast in the other.
"Are you coming?" Harry asked Ron, but he shook his head, looking glum.
"I can't come into Hogsmeade at all, Angelina wants a full day's training. Like it's going to help — we're the worst team I've ever seen. You should see Sloper, he's pathetic, even worse than I am." He heaved a great sigh. "I dunno why Angelina won't just let me resign. . . ."
"It's because you're good when you're on form, that's why," said Harry irritably. Amara looked between the two boys through a mouthful, and found there was a slightly chilly air between them.
Ron departed for Quidditch practise and Harry and Amara left the Great Hall too.
Cho was standing near the oak doors, and when she saw Harry and Amara walking together, her expression became frosty.
"Er, I'll see you later, Harry," Amara said, resisting the urge to hug him just to get a kick out of Cho's expression. "Probably in the Three Broomsticks for the interview. It's really important - you have to be there."
Harry nodded, eyes on Cho, so she walked off to leave the two on their own.
Amara started walking up the marble staircase by herself. She'd forgotten that everyone else was busy that day, and she didn't really want to go to Hogsmeade by herself. She was just thinking that she could go see what Ethan, Ron and Ginny were up to at their all-day practise when she walked head long into something rather hard.
Amara fell backwards and would have hit the floor if a pair of arms hadn't grabbed her at the last second. Looking up she saw two identical faces looking down her.
"Amara?" Fred said, pulling her to her feet.
"Thanks," said Amara.
"Aren't you going to Hogsmeade?" George said.
"I was," Amara said. "But Ron's at an all-day Quidditch practise, Harry has a date with Cho Chang and Hermione's off doing who knows what at the moment."
"Ah," said Fred. "Well, we were going to watch the Quidditch practise for a bit, want to join?"
Amara smiled and nodded. "Sure."
The three of them - decked in coats because it looked as though it was threatening to rain - walked outside and down to the Quidditch pitch.
The practise had already started as Amara, Fred and George peered around the side of the stands. They didn't want to be noticed, as it seemed Ron was doing okay without an audience.
Jack Sloper was very, very bad at Quidditch. It reminded Amara of just how bad the trials were to make him able to play. Granted, he played better than others, but he still did very stupid mistakes that made Ethan have to fly very fast to be able to knock the Bludger back on course.
According to Ethan, he was very good at hitting things that weren't the Bludger. He was also in the same year as Ethan, and shared a dormitory with him, Eddie McKenzie, a boy called Ritchie Coote, who Ethan liked very much and considered a friend, and another boy named Spencer Jennings.
Ginny was very good, zooming around, as well as Ethan, who managed to hit the Bludger many times. Ron was making significant progress, but still managed to make a lot of mistakes.
"I don't think I can watch anymore," George said after half an hour of watching their abysmal performances.
"I agree," said Amara. She was getting tired of poking her head around the stands, with Fred and George above her.
"Hogsmeade?" suggested Fred.
Amara and George agreed readily and they hurried away from the pitch.
"We'll go see how good they're going on Monday," said Fred to George. "Maybe they'll improve."
George and Amara exchanged gloomy looks as they started trudging down Hogwarts' drive to where the road that led to Hogsmeade started.
As they plodded up the road, heavy drops of rain started hitting Amara on the head. Looking up, she saw that the clouds had decided to open up and let a massive amount of rain on them. They didn't mention it at first, but soon the rain was hammering down and it had soaked Amara, Fred and George through. Their hair was plastered to their faces, so they began to run up the track.
As they were running, Fred tripped on some loose gravel and slipped, grabbed his twin and pulled them both into a massive muddy puddle. Amara stopped running and turned back, ignoring the rain, and started laughing. She was laughing so hard at their faces as they scowled at each other; tears ran down her face, mingling with the rain.
George's arm came out of nowhere, pulling Amara on top of them and into the puddle. Shocked and dripping with water, she stared at the two boys in horror. Then, they began to laugh.
By the time they reached the village, all three of them looked as though they had just had a bath fully clothed. Their teeth were chattering, so they decided to go to The Three Broomsticks to warm up first.
When Amara entered, she immediately saw Hermione sitting with Rita Skeeter and Luna Lovegood, and Harry seemed to be making her way towards them. As Rita Skeeter had made nasty rumours about her last year, Amara decided to stay with Fred and George.
Before Fred went to buy the butterbeers, Amara did the charm that made hot air rush out her wand and dry them all so that they weren't uncomfortable. George and Amara went to get a booth to sit down in.
"Why's Hermione with Rita Skeeter?"
"She's going to interview Harry," said Amara.
"What?"
"He's telling her exactly what happened the night Voldemort –" George winced. "Returned."
"But I thought –"
"She's giving it to The Quibbler, and Hermione can really ruin her if she doesn't do what she's meant to," said Amara as Fred came back with three butterbeers.
"Here you go," he said, sliding a butterbeer in front of her.
"Thanks," said Amara, taking a sip. "So, how's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes going? I saw those Headless Hats you made."
"Brilliant," said Fred enthusiastically. "They're selling out fast, I mean, we're going to have to make more before we move into –" He broke off and Amara looked up to see Fred and George exchanging looks.
"What?" said Amara, looking between them both. "Move in where?"
"Er," said George. "Our premises."
"Your premises?" said Amara. "You mean, you mean you've bought somewhere?"
"Yeah," said Fred.
"But – how'd you, I mean," she cleared her throat. "Erm, I didn't realise how well everything was selling – you've had enough to buy it?"
"Well, we had a helping hand," said George awkwardly.
Amara frowned at them. "You haven't been stealing like Mundungus, have you?"
"No!" said Fred indignantly. "It was –"
"He kind of –"
"Spit it out!"
"Harry gave us his Triwizard winnings," said Fred quickly, as if saying it fast would make it better.
Amara gaped at them.
"That – that had to be about one thousand Galleons in there," Amara said weakly.
"We know," said Fred. "We tried to stop him."
"But – that must have been great!" Amara said, realising what it meant. "You can start your business with no problems!"
"Exactly," said George. "And we bought Ron new dress robes."
Amara grinned. "He needed some."
"Don't tell anyone," said Fred. "Harry didn't want anyone to know."
Amara nodded, still pleased Harry had thought about doing such a thing.
They spent the remainder of the time in the Three Broomsticks talking about Ron and Tally (how Fred and George were shocked that she'd even consider Ron), how horrible Umbridge was, and how Fred and George didn't really want to do their N.E. , as they realised that they were pointless.
They visited Honeydukes on the way back, as well as stopping into Zonko's, where they left the shop with their money bags and purses (in Amara's case) rather lighter than it had before they had gone in. Fred and George had advised Amara of what to buy, and she couldn't really say no.
Harry seemed troubled but pleased all throughout dinner, but none of them said much, because Ron was in a very bad mood because of the all-day Quidditch practise.
Hermione and Amara went to bed rather early, because Ron kept complaining and Harry wasn't helping.
Snuggling down into her four-poster, Amara thought about how different Hogwarts would be without Fred and George there.