The story of Fred and George's flight to freedom was retold so often over the next few days that Emile could tell it would soon become the stuff of Hogwarts legend. Within a week, even those who had been eyewitnesses were half-convinced that they had seen the twins dive-bomb Umbridge on their brooms, pelting her with Dungbombs before zooming out of the doors. In the immediate aftermath of their departure there was a great wave of talk about copying them, so that Emile frequently heard students saying things like, "Honestly, some days I just feel like jumping on my broom and leaving this place," or else, "One more lesson like that and I might just do a Weasley. . . ."

Fred and George had made sure that nobody was likely to forget them very soon. For one thing, they had not left instructions on how to remove the swamp that now filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing. Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying different means of removing it but without success. Eventually the area was roped off and Filch, gnashing his teeth furiously, was given the task of punting students across it to their classrooms. Emile was certain that teachers like McGonagall or Flitwick could have removed the swamp in an instant, but just as in the case of Fred and George's Wildfire Whiz-Bangs, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle.

Then there were the two large broom-shaped holes in Umbridge's office door, through which Fred and George's Cleansweeps had smashed to rejoin their masters. Filch fitted a new door and removed Harry's Firebolt to the dungeons where, it was rumored, Umbridge had set an armed security troll to guard it.

Inspired by Fred and George's example, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant positions of Troublemakers-in-Chief. In spite of the new door, somebody managed to slip a hairy snouted niffler into Umbridge's office, which promptly tore the place apart in its search for shiny objects, leapt on Umbridge on her reentrance, and tried to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. Dungbombs and Stinkpellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion for students to perform Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons, which ensured them a supply of fresh clean air, even though it gave them all the peculiar appearance of wearing upside-down goldfish bowls on their heads.

Filch prowled the corridors with a horsewhip ready in his hands, desperate to catch miscreants, but the problem was that there were now so many of them that he did not know which way to turn. The Inquisitorial Squad were attempting to help him, but odd things kept happening to its members. Warrington of the Slytherin Quidditch team reported to the hospital wing with a horrible skin complaint that made him look as though he had been coated in cornflakes. Pansy Parkinson missed all her lessons the following day, as she had sprouted antlers.

Meanwhile it became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before leaving Hogwarts. Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers, or else spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source, but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering "Umbridge-itis." After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating, and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves.

But not even the users of the Snackboxes could compete with that master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred's parting words deeply to heart. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, and toppling statues and vases. Twice he shut Mrs. Norris inside suits of armor, from which she was rescued, yowling loudly, by the furious caretaker. He smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles, juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows, flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast and, whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

None of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her. Indeed, a week after Fred and George's departure Emile witnessed Professor McGonagall walking right past Peeves, who was determinedly loosening a crystal chandelier, and could have sworn she heard her tell the poltergeist out of the corner of her mouth, "It unscrews the other way."

Emile found herself being a frequent supplier of dungbombs and Skiving Snackboxes to people who had run out. Fred and George had left her and Nathan in charge of their inventory, or whatever bit of inventory they chose to leave at Hogwarts. People would approach them in the hallway between classes, during mealtimes, and in the library with requests. They had gotten so popular that Nathan even suggested they begin to charge people extra for the supplies, but Emile refused.

The final match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, was to take place on the last weekend of May. Although Slytherin had been narrowly defeated by Hufflepuff in their last match, Gryffindor was not daring to hope for victory, due mainly (though of course nobody said it to him) to Ron's abysmal goalkeeping record. He, however, seemed to have found a new optimism.

"I mean, I can't get any worse, can I?" he said repeatedly during practice. "Nothing to lose now, is there?"

Lee, who had been very depressed since the departure of Fred and George, took a lot of convincing from Nathan, Emile, and Angelina to commentate during the next match. He did so, though very unenthusiastically.

". . . Bradley . . . Davies . . . Chang," he said, unenthusiastically listing off the names of the opposing team members as they entered the pitch.

"And they're off!" said Lee. "And Davies takes the Quaffle immediately, Ravenclaw Captain Davies with the Quaffle, he dodges Johnson, he dodges Bell, he dodges Spinnet as well. . . . He's going straight for goal! He's going to shoot — and — and —" Lee swore very loudly. "And he's scored."

Predictably, horribly, the Slytherins on the other side of the stands began to sing:

Weasley cannot save a thing,

He cannot block a single ring

Shut up!

I can't help myself! It's stuck in mysorryyour head!

Emile swore to herself and let off her anger by smacking a bludger toward Roger Davies, who barely avoided it.

At that moment her attention was drawn to Ron, who's face was that of such concentration that Emile felt like she was looking at a stranger. He was playing like a completely different person, blocking quaffle after quaffle to the roar of an approving crowd. When Ginny caught the snitch, no one could believe that Gryffindor had won the house cup, Cho least of all. She flew down to the ground and threw her broom across the field, tears streaming down her face.

Merlin's beard, get a grip.

It hasn't been a very good year for her, but this is going a bit overboard. I lost Cedric too.

Yeah, and no one see's you sobbing around every corner.

Emile smiled to herself as Gryffindors and their supporters rushed down to the field, lifting Ron up into the air.

Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King.

The song was growing louder from a mass of red and gold moving slowly toward the castle, which was bearing a solitary figure upon its many shoulders.

Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He didn't let the Quaffle in,

Weasley is our King . . .

"HARRY! HERMIONE!" yelled Ron, waving the silver Quidditch Cup in the air and looking quite beside himself. "WE DID IT! WE WON!"

Ron's friends grinned from the left of the mob carrying Ron up to the castle. Emile noticed them whispering as she grabbed Lee, dragging him along with her to the kitchens to order a party unlike any other. Lee got more excited as Emile showed him the entrance to the kitchens, and he got a bit too excited when he began to ask for an unimaginably wide variety of sweets for the party. Surprisingly enough, the house elves managed to conjure up everything he had asked for, and they went up to the common room to celebrate a turn of luck for the Gryffindors.

Angelina was ecstatic, and passed out by three in the morning. Emile and Nathan stayed up till everyone had gone to bed and slept in the next day. Talk of Gryffindors victory was ringing throughout the hallways, and no foul version of Weasley is our King came from the Slytherins that day.

The castle grounds were gleaming in the sunlight as though freshly painted; the cloudless sky smiled at itself in the smoothly sparkling lake, the satin-green lawns rippled occasionally in a gentle breeze: June had arrived, but to the fifth and seventh years this meant only one thing: Their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.'s were upon them at last.

Their teachers were no longer setting them homework; lessons were devoted to reviewing those topics their teachers thought most likely to come up in the exams. The purposeful, feverish atmosphere drove nearly everything but the O.W.L.s from Emile's mind, though she did wonder occasionally whether she ought to visit Snape for more Occlumency lessons before the year ended.

They got their examination schedules a week into June. The tests were spread out over a course of two weeks. N.E.W.T.s schedule's were a bit different, since not everyone took the same N.E.W.T. classes, so they had either large gaps between tests or all of their tests at once. O.W.L.s were held in the Great Hall, so N.E.W.T.s were taken in one of the larger spare classrooms.

Emile had Defense Against the Dark Arts written and practical exams on Monday, Charms written and practical on Tuesday along with Astronomy in the evening and a break for the rest of the week. The following Monday she had History of Magic written exam, and she finished it all off with Potions written and practical on Wednesday.

The Sunday before the test Emile and Nathan were late to dinner, they had lost track of time whilst in the library. On their way into the Great Hall they passed a group of Ancient looking witches and wizards.

"It's the examiners," Nathan whispered to Emile when they came into sight, a terrified expression on his face.

"Journey was fine, journey was fine, we've made it plenty of times before!" one witch said impatiently. "Now, I haven't heard from Dumbledore lately!" she added, peering around the hall as though hopeful he might suddenly emerge from a broom cupboard. "No idea where he is, I suppose?"

"None at all," said Umbridge, shooting a malevolent look at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were now dawdling around the foot of the stairs as Ron pretended to do up his shoelace. "But I daresay the Ministry of Magic will track him down soon enough. . . ."

"I doubt it," shouted tiny Professor Marchbanks, "not if Dumbledore doesn't want to be found! I should know. . . . Examined him personally in Transfiguration and Charms when he did N.E.W.T.s . . . Did things with a wand I'd never seen before . . ."

Umbridge seemed very flustered by this response, but Emile and Nathan didn't hear what she said as they sat down at the table, glancing over at the nervous fifth years as they did. Some were anxiously reading through notes as they ate, missing several bites as they did so and spilling food onto their laps. Others were wolfing down food much too fast and running out of the hall, for the first time in their lives eager to get back to studying.

"If we've done this once we can do it again," Lee said with an eye roll as Dean tripped as he ran past them.

"Don't underestimate the exams," Emile chirped, watching Seamus help Dean up with a sly grin.

No one talked much at breakfast that day. Emile was absent mindedly refilling peoples cups with water as their backs were turned. Nathan had to force Lee to eat; he who had been so incredibly sure of himself the previous day was now incredibly nervous.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts written exam was easy enough. If it hadn't been for the DA, Emile was certain she would have failed it. Her essay covering all aspects of a Patronus Charm was two inches more then the paper had asked for.

During the practical test she did alright, but not as well as she could have. Though the examiner was impressed that Emile could produce a strong silver vapor while performing the patronus charm, Emile was disappointed that it did not take it usual form of a Snow Leopard.

"It's because of the nerves," Nathan said comfortingly during dinner.

"No, it's because I couldn't really grasp my happy thought," Emile grumbled, taking a bite of ham.

Emile thought she did quite well on the charms written test. She didn't write too much, just the amount the test asked for. During the practical test however, she mixed up the color changing charm and the growth charm, ending up with a hamster the size of a miniature horse.

That evening's Astronomy test went well. Emile successfully mapped and named each of Neptune's moons, while Lee had the misfortune of spilling ink over half of his paper three minutes before the exam was finished, and when he attempted to siphon off the ink a third of his star chart went with it.

"I'm going to fail," Lee said angrily for the fifth time as they headed back to the common room.

"I can get you a pillow to punch if that's what you want," Emile offered as they entered the common room.

Lee shook his head. "Thanks, but we rolled up Fred and George's mattresses to use as punching bags."

"Oh no way, I need to see this!" Emile laughed, running ahead of Lee and up the stairs.

"No, wait!" came a cry from behind her, but Emile didn't listen.

Sure enough, two large punching bags were now hanging from the ceiling. The floor was also littered with clothing, including boxers. Emile's face flushed but she pretended not to notice and instead threw a few punches at a nearby bag, her back to the mess.

"I don't come in here for half a week and you turn this place into a dump," Emile scolded as Lee came in a moment later.

"I wasn't saying don't come in because of that!" Lee said indignantly, his face flushing.

"Of course not," Emile smiled and turned her back to Lee as he quickly picked up the clothes off of the floor.

"Umbridge's rule about boys and girls mingling," Lee whispered, his ears turning red.

"Come on Lee, what's the worst she could do to you?" Emile smirked at her friend. "Throw you in Azkaban?"

"More like tell my parents," Lee moaned. "And I don't think she would word it in a way my father would approve of."

"Alright I see your point," Emile laughed and picked her bookbag off of the floor. "Go study for Transfiguration tomorrow, I'm going to relax."

Emile spent the next two days aimlessly wandering the castle with Carrot, talking to Bartemius while sketching in her journal. A few teachers passed her during that time, but if they actually took any notice of the seventh year lazily sitting around in the entrance hall they didn't say anything.

Carrot was growing old and weary, Emile had a prickling feeling that she wouldn't be with her much longer. The poor old rat had difficulty scampering along any surface, and spent most of her time sleeping.

Emile spent the weekend cooped up in the library with Lee and Nathan. Nathan was preparing for Ancient Runes and Lee for Potions.

"You think we'll need to know all this stuff about Felix Felicis?" Lee frowned as he flipped through his notes.

"Probably," Emile replied without looking up from her History of Magic notes, where she was writing a last minute summary of the Giant Wars.

Monday's History of Magic exam was painful to write; all of the names sounded the same. Lee was convinced he'd mixed up the first and last names of the wizards in the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards.

Barty had been surprisingly helpful. He had received twelve O.W.L.'s, and helped Emile through any questions she had difficulty on.

Are you sure it was Swarmy the Magnificent.

No.

Are you going to go back and change it?

Not unless I remember his real name.

Cough Smarmy cough.

Thank you, Bartemius. My respect for you grows with each day that passes.

Focus on the test.

They didn't get much of a break after that exam. Lee dragged Emile up to the library for more Potions review and didn't allow her to leave until she could recite the procedure for brewing Felix Felicis and Wolfsbane Potion by heart.

Turns out that she didn't need to know anything about Felix Felicis for the written exam, though there were three questions on Wolfsbane potions. Emile wrote a full fifteen inches on the proper procedure to brew Polyjuice Potion, a potion that apparently was deemed most difficult to brew by the ministry. This was a surprise to Emile, since it seemed to be quite popular when it came to deceiving people.

After a quick lunch of sandwiches and iced pumpkin juice, the seventh years trooped into the Dungeons for their Potions practical exam.

"Good Evening, students," chirped a happy witch from the front of the room. She seemed happy enough to be there, considering she'd been testing students all week.

"Today is all up to you," she said with a beam around the room. Lee shot Emile a nervous look from across the aisle, and she smiled back at him.

"You have free reigns to produce whatever potion, within your abilities, that you can. This does not necessarily mean you must produce a difficult potion," she added quickly as mutters filled the classroom. "I would award someone who was to present me with a simple Draught of Death an E if it was done well enough."

With this she signalled that they were to begin, and there was an immediate upswing in the level of noise in the room.

"AND NO TALKING," the tiny woman boomed over the noise, startling a large amount of students. One poor Hufflepuff girl dropped her box of newts eyes, spilling the all over the floor.

Snape, who had been watching from behind the tiny woman swept over to the girl and chased her away, cleaning up the mess with a wave of his wand.

Emile, who had been figuring out what she ought to do, had decided on a more difficult potion. She'd never attempted to do it before, but a sudden wave of self confidence had swept over her.

She filled her potion with the desired amount of water before heading off to collect her supplies. A

"Ashwinder egg, horseradish," she muttered to herself as she swept around the room.

"You aren't," Lee whispered as she passed by him.

"I am. Murtlap, tincture, thyme…"

When Emile had all of the ingredients in front of her she added the egg and horseradish into the cauldron before leaving it to heat, working on mincing the tentacle like growths that were found on caught Snape's eye across the room, he was frowning at her a bit more than usual.

When the concoction had heated Emile juiced a squill bulb and stirred vigorously before adding the minced murtlap tentacles and let that sit. Then she added the tincture and thyme and stirred slowly with one hand while crushing Occamy shell with the other, sprinkling it in. Then she heated the cauldron a bit more and waited for a few minutes. There was only ten minutes left as Emile sprinkled powdered common rue into the cauldron and heated the potion one last time.

At this point it had turned a mellow, yellow green color. Like the inside of a growing tree. Emile took out her wand with shaking hands, her confidence wavering. Performing a figure eight over the cauldron, she said as quietly but forcefully as she could, "Felixempra!"

The potion rippled in the center, tiny droplets of it were leaping out of the potion. With each ripple it turned more and more yellow until finally, a rippling mass of gold shone in front of her. Here and there droplets of the potion would leap out, like goldfish, and land back in without making a splash.

"Alright!" The witch called from the front of the room. "Please fill a vial with your potion and bring it up to the front."

"Emile!" Lee whispered aggressively from behind her in line. "How does my Wolfsbane look?"

"Holy shit Lee, why would you even try to do that," Emile whispered fervently, staring at the brown mass in his vial. "I'm even more surprised that you got it right."

Me too. And Felix Felicis? Really?

What?

Are you trying to show off?

Yes. My N.E.W.T. depends on this potion. Of course i'm going to show off.

Lee smiled and shot her a thumbs up as Emile approached the front of the line.

"And what have we here?" the witch looked over Emile's vial, jaw dropping. "Goodness! Felix Felicis? What a bold move! I hope Professor Snape is proud to have such an ambitious student. I do believe he did the same potion during his N.E.W.T. exams."

Emile stared at the witch, her heart racing. "Oh, well, thank you."

The witch winked at her as she walked away, and Emile felt a knot in her stomach ease slightly. It disappeared completely when Snape muttered "Well done," as she passed him on her way out. Unless she was mistaken, she had just gotten an O on her Potions N.E.W.T..

"No more studying!" Emile cheered as Nathan met her and Lee outside the common room.

"Let's go outside," Nathan suggested as they all clambered through the portrait hole.

"Calm down, we're still in our robes,' Emile said with an eye roll. "I'll meet you guys down here in ten minutes."

"So, fifteen?" Lee laughed and nudged her in the side.

"Don't be rude!" Emile scoffed indignantly, shoving him back.

Nathan and Lee laughed as she swept up the stairs to her room, which was currently abandoned. Angelina was probably studying with Alicia, and Katie was a sixth year so she didn't have to worry about N.E.W.T.s or O.W.L.s.

Emile put on shorts and a black t-shirt, emptying her bookbag of its jumbled notes and textbooks and putting in her pencil pouch and sketchbook, as well as whatever was left of her treacle fudge. Her short hair had been pulled back into two little pigtails, to prevent it from getting caught in any potions. So she pulled it out.

"Come on!" she chirped as she skipped back into the common room, pulling Lee and Nathan along with her. "But tomorrow you have to study transfiguration."

"Alright, mom," Nathan said with an eye roll.

They spent the day outside under a tree overlooking the black lake. Nathan fell asleep in the shade at one point, so Emile and Lee snuck off to cool their feet in the lake.

"Hey Lee, what was your patronus?" Emile asked as they glimpsed the giant squid basking further along the shallows.

Lee whipped his wand out of the pocket of his shorts, swishing it through the air as he crowed, "Expecto Patronum!"

When the silver vapor took form it dashed around Emile, it's large ears flattened playfully.

"Aw, a Fennec Fox," Emile smiled as it leaped across the lake, hardly causing a ripple in the cold water.

"Show me yours," Lee grinned as he watched his fox circle the squid.

Emile pulled out her wand, taking a deep breath. "Expecto Patronum!"

To her surprise the silver vapor took the form of the snow leopard, following Lee's fox across the lake.

"Nice! A snow leopard!" Lee said admiringly as the wisps of silver vapor faded away.

I don't understand… I was thinking about Lee.

Maybe George isn't your happy thought.

Maybe…

Thursday evening Emile was getting ready for bed when a commotion in the common room grabbed her attention.

"What is going on out there?" Angelina said incredulously as she looked down the stairs.

"Only one way to find out," Emile shrugged, grabbing Angelina by the arm and dragging her down the stairs, to where Seamus and Dean were telling a story about Umbridge attacking Hagrid during their Astronomy O.W.L..

"And when McGonagall ran out to try to stop them they stunned her, four stunners straight to the chest!" Seamus exclaimed to a shocked audience.

"But why sack Hagrid now?" asked Angelina, shaking her head. "It's not like Trelawney, he's been teaching much better than usual this year!"

"Umbridge hates part-humans," said Hermione bitterly, flopping down into an armchair. "She was always going to try and get Hagrid out."

"And she thought Hagrid was putting nifflers in her office," piped up Katie.

"Oh blimey," said Lee, covering his mouth. "It's me's been putting the nifflers in her office, Fred and George left me a couple, I've been levitating them in through her window. . . ."

"She'd have sacked him anyway," said Dean. "He was too close to Dumbledore."

"That's true," said Harry, sinking into an armchair beside Hermione's.

"I just hope Professor McGonagall's all right," said Lavender tearfully.

"They carried her back up to the castle, we watched through the dormitory window," said Colin Creevey "She didn't look very well. . . ."

"Madam Pomfrey will sort her out," said Alicia firmly. "She's never failed yet."

It was nearly four in the morning before the common room cleared. Emile stayed up to make sure everyone had gone to bed, as Head Girl she considered it her responsibility. Especially now that Professor McGonagall had gone. Nathan stayed up till one, but Emile chased him to bed after that. He had Ancient Runes tomorrow.

The next day Emile was sitting in the common room, absentmindedly flipping through her sketches. She was waiting for Lee, Nathan, and Angelina to return from exams when Seamus and Dean's conversation behind her caught her attention.

"You don't need to get overpriced, black market butterbeers," She scoffed and jumped over the sofa they were in, sitting down next to them. "I'll let you in on Fred and George's secret to getting food for party's, if you promise not to tell anyone else until you're a seventh year. Then pass it on to the next generation of troublemakers."

"You've got a deal," Seamus grinned at Emile while Dean stared at her.

"Alright then," Emile leaned forward, taking the piece of parchment from Dean's hands and unrolling it a bit more. "Here's a map of the corridor it's in. Go down the stairs leading to the Hufflepuff basement, there will be a painting of a bowl of fruit. When you see it, tickle the pear and the painting will reveal a passageway."

"This sounds sketchy," Dean said suspiciously, looking at Emile through narrowed eyes.

"Why would I lie to you?" Emile rolled her eyes. "If you don't trust me enough to go yourselves then I can show you."

Seeing as they preferred that Emile showed them the kitchen, Emile led the way down the stairs, past the great hall, and to the first floor corridor. She dramatically tickled the pear in the painting before stepping back, allowing the fifth years to step inside.

"Mistress Emile!" Kringle squeaked as they entered the bustling room.

"Hello Kringle," Emile smiled at the house elf. "This is Seamus, and this is Dean. They want some food for an end of Exam party in the common room-"

"Actually It's in the spare boy's bedroom," Dean interrupted. "We want it to be just fifth and seventh years."

"Why don't you order then?" Emile stepped back and left the kitchen.

On her way back to the common room she caught sight of Ginny and Luna, standing at the end of one of the corridors.

Where are you going? You'll miss the party.

I want to see what they're up to. The way Ginny's standing, it looks a lot like how Fred and George stood before they played a major prank.

Why would you pay attention to how they stand?

Why wouldn't I?

"Hello Ginny," she said, walking up to her. "What are you planning?"

"Ssshhhh!" Ginny shushed Emile and looked around before whispering, "Harry needs to talk to Sirius again, if anyone asks there's a load of Garroting Gas at the end of this corridor."

"Alright, should I stay then?" Emile asked nervously.

"We could use someone more experienced in dueling to fight off any members of the inquisitorial squad," Luna said vaguely, flinching and swiping at the air. "Nargles, nargles everywhere."

At that moment Ron came down the hall with four large Slytherins in tow.

"WEASLEYISOURKING," he was yelling frantically as the Slytherins drew their wands and pointed them at the group.

"The Inquisitorial Squad," Emile groaned, drawing her own wand.

"Get them!" Malfoy snarled, leaping towards Luna and magically gagging her. Emile was about to hex him when Warrington froze her with a full body bind and gagged her as well.

"Expelliarmus!" came a yell out of nowhere as Neville attempted to stop Warrington from taking Ginny.

They were all led into Umbridge's office, where the short, pink woman was standing and Harry and Hermione were pinned against the wall.

"Got 'em all," said Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forward into the room.

"That one." he poked a thick finger at Neville, "tried to stop me taking her," he pointed at Ginny, who was trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, "so I brought him along too."

"Good, good," said Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles. "Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?"

Malfoy laughed loudly and sycophantically. Umbridge gave her wide, complacent smile and settled herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.

"So, Potter," she said. "You stationed lookouts around my office and you sent this buffoon," she nodded at Ron, and Malfoy laughed even louder, "to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes, Mr. Filch having just informed me so."

"Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone. . . ."

Malfoy and a few of the other members of the Inquisitorial Squad laughed some more at that.

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Harry snarled.

Umbridge's slack face seemed to tighten.

"Very well," she said in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. "Very well, Mr. Potter . . . I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco — fetch Professor Snape."

Malfoy stowed Harry's wand inside his robes and left the room, smirking.

There was silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resultant from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. Ron's lip was bleeding onto Umbridge's carpet as he struggled against Warrington's half nelson. Ginny was still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who had both her upper arms in a tight grip. Neville was turning steadily more purple in the face while tugging at Crabbe's arms, and Hermione was attempting vainly to throw Millicent Bulstrode off her. Luna, however, stood limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings. Emile, who was being held by the arm by the same person who was holding Luna, leaned against the wall with a sigh.

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" said Snape, looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

"You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter," he said, observing her coolly through his curtains of black hair. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient."

Umbridge flushed.

"You can make some more, can't you?" she said, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always did when she was furious.

"Certainly," said Snape, his lip curling. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month."

"A month?" squawked Umbridge, swelling toadishly. "A month? But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!"

"Really?" said Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looked around at Harry. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" shouted Umbridge angrily, and Snape looked away from Harry back into her furiously quivering face. "I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!"

"I have already told you," said Snape smoothly, "that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling. . . ."

Everyone stared at Umbridge as she went ballistic.

"You are on probation!" she shrieked, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!"

Snape gave her an ironic bow and turned to leave. Emile caught his eye as he left, and he had a somewhat bored expression. She rolled her eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.

"He's got Padfoot!" Harry shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Snape had stopped with his hand on Umbridge's door handle. Emile was staring at Harry.

Voldemort has Sirius?

Don't mention his name!

"Padfoot?" cried Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape.

"What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Snape looked around at Harry. His face was inscrutable.

"I have no idea," said Snape coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job."

He closed the door behind him with a snap.

"Very well," she said, and she pulled out her wand. "Very well . . . I am left with no alternative. . . . This is more than a matter of school discipline. . . . This is an issue of Ministry security. . . . Yes . . . yes . . ."

She seemed to be talking herself into something. She was shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, staring at Harry, beating her wand against her empty palm and breathing heavily.

"You are forcing me, Potter. . . . I do not want to," said Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, "but sometimes circumstances justify the use . . . I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice. . . ."

Malfoy was watching her with a hungry expression on his face.

"The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue," said Umbridge quietly.

"No!" shrieked Hermione. "Professor Umbridge — it's illegal"

- but Umbridge took no notice. There was a nasty, eager, excited look on her face. She raised her wand.

"The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!" cried Hermione.

"What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him," said Umbridge, who was now panting slightly as she pointed her wand at different parts of Harry's body in turn, apparently trying to decide what would hurt the most.

"He never knew I ordered dementors after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same. . . ."

"It was you?" gasped Harry. "You sent the dementors after me?"

"Somebody had to act," breathed Umbridge, as her wand came to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead. "They were all bleating about silencing you somehow — discrediting you — but I was the one who actually did something about it. . . . Only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today, though, not now . . ."

And taking a deep breath, she cried, "Cruc —"

"NO!" shouted Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. "No — Harry — Harry, we'll have to tell her!"

"No way!" yelled Harry.

"We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's . . . what's the point. . . ?"

And Hermione began to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent stopped trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodged out of her way looking disgusted.

"Well, well, well!" said Umbridge, looking triumphant. "Little Miss Question-All is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!"

"Er — my — nee — no!" shouted Ron through his gag.

Ginny was staring at Hermione as though she had never seen her before; Neville, still choking for breath, was gazing at her too. But Harry had just noticed something. Though Hermione was sobbing desperately into her hands, there was no trace of a tear. . . .

"I'm — I'm sorry everyone," said Hermione. "But — I can't stand it —"

"That's right, that's right, girl!" said Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. "Now then . . . with whom was Potter communicating just now?"

"Well," gulped Hermione into her hands, "well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore. . . ."

Ron froze, his eyes wide; Emile had stood up straight again; Ginny stopped trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor's toes; even Luna looked mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and her minions was focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice these suspicious signs.

You kind of got roped into this. Leave soon so that you won't get into trouble.

I'm already in trouble.

Come on, just say you were talking to Ginny about her brothers or something.

Yeah, like that would help.

"Dumbledore?" said Umbridge eagerly. "You know where Dumbledore is, then?"

"Well . . . no!" sobbed Hermione. "We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head —"

"Idiot girl, Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!" shouted Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face.

"But — but we needed to tell him something important!" wailed Hermione, holding her hands more tightly over her face, not, out of anguish, but to disguise the continued absence of tears.

"Yes?" said Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. "What was it you wanted to tell him?"

"We . . . we wanted to tell him it's r-ready!" choked Hermione.

"What's ready?" demanded Umbridge, and now she grabbed Hermione's shoulders again and shook her slightly. "What's ready, girl?"

"The . . . the weapon," said Hermione.

"Weapon? Weapon?" said Umbridge, and her eyes seemed to pop with excitement. "You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?"

"Y-y-yes," gasped Hermione. "But he had to leave before it was finished and n-n-now we've finished it for him, and we c-c-can't find him t-t-to tell him!"

"What kind of weapon is it?" said Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.

"We don't r-r-really understand it," said Hermione, sniffing loudly. "We j-j-just did what P-P-Professor Dumbledore told us t-t-to do . . ."

Umbridge straightened up, looking exultant.

"Lead me to the weapon," she said.

"I'm not showing . . . them," said Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.

"It is not for you to set conditions," said Professor Umbridge harshly. "Fine," said Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again, "fine . . . let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th-that would serve you right — oh, I'd love it if the wh-whole school knew where it was, and how to u-use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll be able to s-sort you out!"

These words had a powerful impact on Umbridge. She glanced swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad, her bulging eyes resting for a moment on Malfoy, who was too slow to disguise the look of eagerness and greed that had appeared on his face. Umbridge contemplated Hermione for another long moment and then spoke in what she clearly thought was a motherly voice.

"All right, dear, let's make it just you and me . . . and we'll take Potter too, shall we? Get up, now —"

"Professor," said Malfoy eagerly, "Professor Umbridge, I think some of the squad should come with you to look after —"

"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?" asked Umbridge sharply.

"In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these" — she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Emile, Neville, and Luna — "escape."

"All right," said Malfoy, looking sulky and disappointed.

"And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way," said Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. "Lead on. . . ."