Chapter 66: Harry and the Hufflepuffs
Harry was having a very good start to the school year.
Although the professors were assigning the fifth-years impossible amounts of homework in preparation for the OWL exams, Harry found it easier to keep up with his classes than he ever had before. Probably, he reflected wryly, it had something to do with the fact that this year no one was threatening to kill him. Having someone who was sort of like a parent taking an interest in whether he did his schoolwork was motivating, too.
Even better was the return of Quidditch. Few things made Harry as happy as flying with his teammates. Ron had successfully become the Gryffindor team's new Keeper, and even though Ron was struggling to adjust to the pressure, the team had managed to defeat Slytherin in the first match of the year. That Harry had grabbed the Snitch a breath before Draco Malfoy would have got it made the victory all the sweeter.
It even turned out not to be so terrible that Ron and Hermione were busy with prefect duties sometimes. And so he did not mind at all that one Wednesday morning he found himself sitting with Ginny at breakfast, speculating about the likely outcome of the upcoming Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw match, while Ron and Hermione did an early patrol of the castle.
At least, he didn't mind at all until Ron appeared so suddenly that he might have Apparated and grabbed Harry by the back of his robes, almost making Harry choke on his toast.
"You have to come. Now," said Ron. Harry turned to say goodbye to Ginny, but even that was too much for Ron, who seized Harry's arm with one hand and his bag with the other. "Prefect emergency!"
Something about how frantic Ron looked— flushed and jumpy— made Harry bite back on his usual retort that he wasn't a prefect because he caused too much trouble. Panic began to grow in his chest as he matched Ron stride for stride. They sprinted from the Great Hall and up a towering flight of stairs, jumping from one staircase to another as the first began to move.
"What happened?" asked Harry breathlessly when he was no longer in danger of tumbling from the staircase.
"They know about Lupin."
Harry's heart plummeted. "Who?"
"Ernie Macmillan worked it out. That cow Umbridge asked him a bunch of questions about werewolves right in the middle of Lupin's class and it made him realize what was going on. I don't know how many people he's told so far, but he and Hannah are going to go see Dumbledore today. Hermione and I told him Dumbledore already knows and they didn't believe us. Ernie says everyone has a right to know and he's going to tell. Says it's his duty as a prefect. Says he'll complain to Umbridge if there's no point in going to Dumbledore. Hermione's trying to convince him that we need Lupin to prepare us for our OWLs in the spring, but it's not working. I think he's embarrassed that Hermione worked out the truth two whole years before he did. I can't get through to him. She can't get through to him. It has to be you, Harry."
"Why would he listen to me?"
"He likes you. You're the famous Boy Who Lived and whatever. And you're friends with Saint Champion Cedric Diggory."
That was it, Harry realized as they jogged up to Hannah, Hermione, and Ernie. It wasn't Harry who would be able to stop Ernie and Hannah. It was Cedric. He just had to stop them from spreading the word before he could convince Cedric that Lupin's secret had to stay a secret.
"… it isn't right. Students are in danger and they don't even know it. You can decide for yourself that you want a werewolf for a teacher, but you can't decide for everyone else," Ernie was saying as Harry drew into earshot.
"They let us choose whether we wanted to take practical lessons about the Imperius Curse," added Hannah. "They should let us choose whether we want to be at a school with a monster."
"He's not a monster!" said Harry before he even said hello, before he had a chance to consider what strategy might work best to bring Ernie and Hannah around to his way of thinking.
"Then why do werewolves have five Xs in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?" Hannah shot back. Harry didn't think he'd ever heard Hannah sound so loudly sure of herself before. From what little he knew of her, she'd always seemed to listen to Ernie or to Susan Bones before she listened to herself. He wished that she hadn't chosen this moment to become so confident in her own convictions.
"There's a footnote that says that only applies on the night of the full moon," Harry pointed out. He'd reread the entry on werewolves several times at the end of his third year after Lupin himself had pointed out that his friendship with Sirius might negatively affect Sirius' chances in front of the Wizengamot. "'When there is no full moon, the werewolf is as harmless as any other human.' Page 41," he quoted.
(Hermione beamed a little, the way she often did when Harry proved that he had voluntarily read something that wasn't about Quidditch.)
"But there is a full moon," said Ernie. "There are ten full moons during the school year. Anyway, Harry, this a matter for prefects—"
"So the next step is to talk to the Head Boy," Harry interrupted.
Hannah and Ernie glanced at each other. They both revered Cedric; neither one of them wanted to go over his head.
"I want to talk to Cedric, too. He's my friend, and a prefect can't tell me not to talk to my friend."
It was nearly time for the first classes of the morning to start. "Get Cedric, will you?" he asked Ron and Hermione. "He should be leaving the Great Hall."
"We can get him ourselves," declared Hannah possessively. They all started toward the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione rushing ahead. In the end, Hermione had to scream Cedric's name in a rather undignified way across the hall. Harry imagined that Hermione thought that looking like an idiot for a moment would be a small price to pay for keeping Lupin as a teacher.
Cedric greeted them pleasantly. It appeared that he could not decide whether to laugh or be concerned at their disheveled state.
"I have Arithmancy starting in about a minute," Hermione said. "And the two of you need to be in Divination…"
"Go to Arithmancy," Harry agreed, knowing how Hermione hated to miss a class for anything less than petrification by a basilisk. "I'll handle this. Ron can tell Professor Trelawny that she must have foreseen that I would fall on the moving staircase this morning and hurt my leg."
"You didn't fall and hurt your leg."
"I almost did." Harry shrugged at Ron, who grinned.
"Good enough for me." Ron caught his eye and Harry could tell that Ron was offering to stay— wanted to stay— but Harry suddenly knew that it would be easier to make his point if he let himself be outnumbered. He nodded to Ron, and Ron began the long climb to the Divination classroom.
Whatever classes Ernie and Hannah had that morning, they made no mention of attending them. Instead, they fell upon Cedric, entreating him to take their part.
"It isn't fair for the Gryffindors to make the rules for the whole school!"
"It's dangerous! We had a right to know!"
"Hermione Granger has known for two whole years, and she covered it up!"
"I don't like Umbridge, either, but that law has support for a reason!"
"A werewolf. A WEREWOLF!"
Harry flinched. "Can we please discuss this in private? Even if I can't stop you telling the whole school, you shouldn't tell them like this. If… if there's some kind of mob seeking justice… you wouldn't want a first-year to be caught in the crossfire even if you don't care what happens to Lupin."
"We didn't say that," said Hannah, and Harry felt a spark of hope.
"Let's move this conversation somewhere more comfortable," said Cedric. Harry thought that he knew Cedric well enough to know that what Cedric really wanted was a moment to think before their discussion began in earnest. By silent agreement, Cedric, Hannah, and Ernie turned left and then right. Harry followed.
Harry had been down this corridor many times before; it led to the kitchens, which anyone could enter by tickling the pear in a still life painting. Dobby had told Harry that he was permitted to visit at any time, and indeed Harry and Ron were always welcomed to the kitchens with more food than they could carry, let alone eat.
"All right," said Cedric, seeming to make a decision. He aimed his wand at Harry. "Obscuro." Harry stiffened as a blindfold fastened itself neatly around his head, pressing his glasses into his nose a bit too tightly.
With some discomfort, Harry realized that it had been almost exactly one year before when Karkaroff had rendered him immobile and invisible before depositing him in this corridor and removing his memory.
He stood dumbly in the darkness as he heard what sounded like the rap of a wand against a wooden barrel— wasn't there a pile of barrels stacked in the shadowy indentation on the right-hand side of the corridor? Ron had once speculated that the barrels might contain a delivery of fire whiskey that hadn't yet been stored properly. They had meant to come back and check at a later date, but piles of homework and Quidditch practice had pushed the idea to the back of their minds.
Harry realized now that the barrels weren't storage at all. They concealed the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitory, and tapping on them in a particular way opened the door. That was what Tonks had meant in the spring when she'd told Harry that Hufflepuffs didn't use a password to enter their common room.
"Come on," said Cedric, and he grabbed Harry by the shoulder to lead him through a doorway and up a sloping, earthy passage.
"If you're going to leave the blindfold on, can you let me take my glasses off and then cover my eyes?" asked Harry. The blindfold wasn't really so uncomfortable, but Harry hoped that Cedric would decide that it wouldn't hurt anything to let Harry see the inside of the common room as long as Harry didn't know how to return.
He was worried about Lupin, but he was also terribly curious and excited to see where the Hufflepuffs lived.
Cedric seemed to have a silent conversation with Ernie and Hannah. "Finite Incantantem." The blindfold vanished.
"Wow," Harry breathed before he'd decided whether he ought to say anything.
They were inside a cosy, round, low-ceilinged room reminiscent of a badger's sett. It was decorated in Hufflepuff House's cheerful, bee-like colors of yellow and black. The tables were made from highly polished, honey-colored wood, as were two round doors which Harry assumed led to the dormitories. The yellow and brown rug beneath his feet was soft, he could tell even through his shoes. The over-stuffed couches and chairs looked equally inviting.
Fittingly, because Professor Sprout was the Head of Hufflepuff House, the common room was full of plants and flowers. There were various cacti growing on wooden circular shelves (curved to fit the walls). Many of them seemed to be waving hello to Harry. Ferns and ivies suspended from the celling brushed his hair as he passed under them.
A portrait over the wooden mantelpiece (carved all over with decorative dancing badgers) showed Helga Hufflepuff toasting her students with a tiny, two-handled golden cup that Harry recognized as the one Dumbledore and Lupin had destroyed before the term began.
Another portrait to the side of the fireplace showed Newt Scamander, the famed magizoologist and the author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. A bowtruckle was perched shyly on his left shoulder and a niffler grinned mischievously from its place on his right arm.
There were Christmas stockings hung all along the fireplace and beside and around the portraits. Each stocking was yellow and black, but there the similarities ended: some were made in broad stripes, and some in narrow stripes; some were polka dotted, and some checked; others featured the outlines of badgers in various poses. It looked as if each student in Hufflepuff had a stocking of his or her own.
A Christmas tree, too, stood near the passageway through which they had entered. The tree was decorated with golden garlands and badger-shaped ornaments. Beneath the tree were dozens of black-wrapped packages tied up with yellow ribbon.
There were many small, round windows just level with the ground at the foot of the castle. Just now the windows were covered with snow— and yet, somehow, the room felt sunny.
"It's brilliant," he said when he realized that the other three were all waiting for his reaction. They glowed with pride at the simple praise.
"Not like Gryffindor Tower at all, I wouldn't reckon," said Ernie.
"No," said Harry honestly. "We'd kill the plants setting off dungbombs and we'd probably blow up the presents by accident, too."
Cedric and Ernie laughed. Hannah smiled.
"You really don't have a password?" Harry asked.
"No, but if you try to come in and you don't belong, you'll be drenched with vinegar," explained Hannah.
Harry nodded, thinking of how precise Cedric's tapping had been. Somehow the lack of password fit. "Is everyone else in class?"
"They're certainly meant to be." Cedric seated himself on a couch beside the fire and gestured for Harry to sit as well. Hannah and Ernie pulled a pair of chairs as close as they could.
"Now," said Cedric. "Ernie and Hannah, tell me what's going on. Harry, wait for your turn."
Harry couldn't help but feel put-out at the idea of waiting. Who else had Ernie told? Who were those people telling, even now? If anyone told Draco Malfoy and his cronies, it wouldn't matter what the Hufflepuffs ultimately decided. Malfoy would get rid of Lupin just to make Harry unhappy.
Or what about Zacharias Smith? He was a Hufflepuff, and he was insufferable. According to Ginny, he was exactly the kind of person who would love the get Lupin sacked and wouldn't feel one bit bad about it.
"… And all of the students should have a right to decide whether that's a risk they want to take," Ernie concluded after what seemed to Harry to have been an hour, but had probably been more like five minutes.
"Thank you," said Cedric politely. "It's your turn, Harry." Harry was oddly reminded of Lupin and the quiet way he controlled a classroom (or a murderous confrontation in the Shrieking Shack). That thought told Harry where to start.
"Professor Lupin is one of the best professors in the school, and he's definitely the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had. You know that. When you were the Triwizard Champion, Cedric, you could have chosen any professor in the school to prepare you and give you extra lessons. You chose Lupin."
"I don't believe Professor Lupin's skill as a teacher is at issue here, Harry."
"If it's not, then it should be. It should be the only thing that matters. The students don't need to know about his— his problem— any more than we need to know why Snape's hair always looks greasy or whether Pince has bunions or whether McGonagall is allergic to treacle tart."
"None of those things put the students in any danger."
"Nor does Lupin. Snape makes him a Wolfsbane potion so he doesn't lose his mind. My godfather— he's an Animagus and he can take his dog form and control Lupin even if Lupin does forget the potion and lose his mind. Dumbledore and the rest of the staff decided that it was safe for Lupin to be here."
"We don't know if the staff even know," injected Ernie.
"They do. Most of them taught him when he was a student. The Whomping Willow was planted to keep him separate from the other students when he was at school, and Professor Sprout knows that. She had to. We do all sorts of dangerous things that the professors decided we should do. You can get hurt flying, but we still taking flying class."
"That's very true," said Cedric.
"It's not the same," said Ernie. "Our parents know about flying class, and if they really wanted us excused from it they could work something out, even if it meant choosing another school. They don't know about Lupin. If they did, some of them would want us to leave the school. Not that it would come to that, because that new law—"
"Disgusting bigoted law that shouldn't pass," said Harry.
"That's not up to you," said Hannah. "And neither is this. You decided that you wanted to take the risk of having Lupin as a professor—"
"He's a lot less dangerous than Quirrell or Lockhart—"
"But no one else got to make that decision."
"So you're going to get Lupin sacked or arrested, and no one else gets to decide that they'd like him to stay on? Maybe Hermione isn't the only one who guessed two years ago. Maybe loads of other students did, but they decided that it was none of their business."
"I should tell you that that is the case," said Cedric.
It took Harry a moment to process that. Deep down, he hadn't really believed that anyone else could have done what Hermione had; Hermione was just that much cleverer, and that much harder-working, than everyone else.
"Did you know before today?" Harry asked Cedric.
"I'm afraid I didn't work it out myself," said Cedric, looking slightly abashed. "Cho told me. She thinks about half of Ravenclaw house knows. Some of the older students had a debate about it last year when they were locked out of their common room in the middle of the night."
Even though Harry had long since given up on the idea that Cho could ever fancy him, he felt a sudden desire to have been Sorted into Ravenclaw, to have been there with Cho in the middle of the night…
"You don't think we should tell, then," said Hannah.
"I think it's up to you to decide what's right. But I hope you won't tell."
Now Harry's insides were leaping about with delight. What Cedric had just said to Hannah and Ernie, both of whom idolized him, would be far more effective at keeping them quiet than a demand would have done. Only a memory charm would have worked better, and Harry had no fondness for memory charms.
When he'd shaken hands with Ernie and Hannah and been escorted out of the Hufflepuffs' home, he ran as fast as he could to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. He knew that Lupin would be teaching and he couldn't interrupt his class to warn him of the morning's events, but he could tell Lupin that it was an emergency and they had to speak in between classes.
Even though Ernie and Hannah no longer planned to tell everyone they met that Lupin was a werwolf, Lupin had to know that they knew. And Cedric, too. And Cho and… half of Ravenclaw?
Safely under his invisibility cloak, where he was in no danger of facing irritating questions about why he wasn't in class, he found himself drifting toward Ravenclaw Tower. He had to know more about what the Ravenclaws knew; how else could he properly warn Lupin?
He began to climb a spiral staircase that ended before a door. There was no handle and no keyhole: nothing but a plain expanse of aged wood and a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.
He imagined Cho and her friends sitting on these steps, talking about whether Lupin was a werewolf.
Locked out, Cedric had said. That meant that they couldn't simply tap the knocker in a certain way like Hufflepuffs tapped the barrels in a certain way. Did the knocker require a password, then, like the Fat Lady in Gryffindor Tower or the stretch of stone wall alongside the Slytherin common room?
There was one way to find out. Harry reached for the knocker and rapped it once. The beak of the eagle opened, but instead of a bird's call, a soft, musical voice said, "What can you break, even if you never pick it up or touch it?"
Harry happened to know the answer, but only because Lupin had made Cedric run through famous riddles before the final task of the Triwizard Tournament so that Cedric would be prepared if he had to face a sphinx.
"A promise," he told the knocker, feeling very odd about all of this.
"Succinctly put," replied the knocker, and the door swung open.
For the second time that morning, Harry was amazed by how wonderful the castle could be. The Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, airier than any Harry had ever seen at Hogwarts. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue and bronze silks. The windows gave the Ravenclaws a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight blue carpet. There were tables, chairs, and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble.
Harry's knees turned to water and his hands went so numb that he dropped the map. On the head of the statue was a much-too-familiar diadem, for this was Rowena Ravenclaw.
"Hello?" asked a high voice. Harry was not alone in the room, and while he was invisible, the map was not. He couldn't risk another student picking up the map; far better to be caught in another house's common room without invitation. Quickly, he removed the invisibility cloak and shoved it under his robes. He just managed it before Luna Lovegood came into view.
He breathed a sigh of relief. It was someone he knew. "Hello, Luna," he said as he picked up the map, which had tumbled toward her bare feet.
"You're not in Ravenclaw," she said.
"No," he agreed. "But the door opened for me when I answered a question."
"Then you must be clever," she said. "Did the Sorting Hat consider putting you in Ravenclaw?"
"No," he said. "Er, I mean, I'm not certain." At the time, all he'd cared about was not Slytherin, but he did remember the hat saying something about not a bad mind.
"No," echoed Luna. "I suppose none of us know exactly what the Sorting Hat considers. We only know what it chooses to tell us."
"And people have a right to choose what to tell other people," Harry said, reminding himself of why he'd come. If he had expected to find a roll of parchment stuck to one of the bookcases declaring PROFESSOR LUPIN IS A WEREWOLF, he was disappointed.
Luna nodded as if his change of subject made complete sense, then changed the subject again. "You're supposed to be in class."
"So are you."
She looked down at her bare feet. "I've lost my shoes. People take them and hide them, you know."
Harry hadn't known anything of the kind. He had never heard of such a thing. He'd once borrowed one of Ron's ties in a pinch, and he knew many of the girls shared clothes (Alicia and Angelina probably couldn't have sorted out who was the original owner of what if the Quidditch Cup depended on it).
"Do you want help finding them?" he asked. "You can't go to class barefoot. There's snow on the ground. And you can't stay up here forever either."
"I suppose you're right," she said. "I just thought it would be more expedient to miss class today so that they didn't feel like they'd hid them for nothing and they wouldn't try something more creative next time."
"How come people hide your stuff?"
"I think they think I'm a bit odd. They call me Loony Lovegood."
"Sounds like the same people who called me the Heir of Slytherin and said I wanted to murder Muggle borns," said Harry darkly. "Have you tried a summoning charm?"
"I haven't learned that yet. Professor Flitwick says we'll be doing it next week."
Harry nodded and raised his wand. "Accio, Luna's shoes!"
Three pairs of shoes flew out from behind a row of books on one of the bookcases.
"Thank you." Luna set two pairs of shoes aside and sat down to pull the third pair onto her feet.
"Does Professor Flitwick know about this?" Harry asked.
"No." Harry understood. A year ago, he wouldn't have bothered going to a professor with a problem, either.
"Is it all right if I speak to…" To whom? Flitwick, who he barely knew? Lupin, who was on the verge of being sacked? Dumbledore, who didn't mind when Snape bullied Neville so badly that Neville saw him in a boggart?
"You don't need to speak to anyone. They'll only ask who, and I don't know for sure, so they can't do anything even if they want to. But thank you." Luna returned her spare shoes to their hiding place and slung her bag over her shoulder. "I have Defense Against the Dark Arts next, and I wouldn't want to miss it. Professor Lupin is very nice, isn't he?"
"I like him, too." Harry's heart pounded. It was the perfect opportunity. "Luna, have you ever heard the Ravenclaws around here saying anything… odd about Professor Lupin?"
"I'm not a very good judge of what's odd and what isn't. Many things that I think are normal, other people seem to find odd."
That was true enough. "Have they ever talked about how he often seems to be ill?"
"Oh, you mean that he's a werewolf? Yes, everyone knows that, but I don't imagine that's any of our business, do you?"
"No," said Harry. "I don't imagine it is. I'll walk you to the Defense classroom. I want to talk to Lupin before your class, anyway."
"That would be nice." Luna waved her wand, and the door with the brass knocker opened.
"And when you get a chance, Luna, can you draw me a picture of your dormitory? Where your trunk is, where your bed is, where your things are? And then let me know the next time something goes missing? I think I may have a way to figure out who's doing it." He didn't fancy spending all night staring at the Ravenclaw dormitory on the Marauder's Map, but it was the best plan he had.
"All right. I'm not a bad artist. I can do that."
"Can anyone walk into your dormitory the same way anyone can walk into your common room?"
"Only girls. The stairs turn into a slide if boys try to come up to the girls' dormitory."
That, at least, was familiar. "They do the same thing in Gryffindor Tower."
"I wouldn't like to be a Gryffindor," said Luna. "Ginny says that there aren't any riddles to answer to get inside, and that you can't see the mountains from the common room. What's the point of being in a tower if you can't feel as if you're in the clouds?"
They had reached the classroom; Lupin's first class of the day was streaming out, chattering excitedly. Luna's classmates began making their way inside. To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore was among them.
Dumbledore, though, did not appear to be surprised to find Harry in the midst of the fourth year Ravenclaws. He merely glanced in Harry's direction before addressing Lupin. "I wonder if you could set these students something to read, on threat of a quiz the moment you return?"
Lupin nodded; with a tap of his wand, the reading assignment appeared on the blackboard. The Ravenclaws fell quietly to work and Lupin left the room. His face fell into lines of concern when he saw Harry. "Harry? What's wrong?"
Harry cast the anti-eavesdropping charm he had seen Lupin cast many times. "Cedric got the Hufflepuffs to promise not to tell for now, but half the school knows and I don't know how much longer we'll be able to keep it a secret from that Umbridge cow."
"I'm certain you meant to say High Inquisitor Umbridge," said Dumbledore blandly.
"Yes," Harry corrected himself, straightening his back. "This morning, Ernie Macmillan wanted to tell both you and High Inquisitor Umbridge that Professor Lupin is a werewolf. I asked him to wait until he'd talked to Cedric. Cedric convinced him not to do anything, but loads of other people know. We think no one is going to say anything— either because they respect Cedric or because think Professor Lupin can prepare them for their OWLS and NEWTS or because they just don't care— but sooner or later someone will slip up or someone who wants Professor Lupin to be sacked will overhear."
"I've always been on borrowed time in this position, Harry," said Remus with a soft smile. "We've talked about it before. But thank you for trying to give me me another day, at least. Headmaster? Is that why you wanted to see me?"
"It's lucky Mr. Potter was here, for he phrased it far more colorfully than I would have," said Dumbledore. "Yes, Mr. Diggory came to me in his capacity as Head Boy not half an hour ago to tell me the same story."
"I shall return to my class, then," said Lupin.
"And Mr. Potter will accompany me to my office to further discuss his forays into both the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw common rooms," said Dumbledore. "All he needs is Slytherin to complete the set, unless you've already done that?"
Harry was too full of thoughts of werewolves and Horcruxes to bother lying. "It must be really cool when the giant squid swims by those windows."
"Indeed it is," agreed Dumbledore. "Which common room do you like the best?"
"Gryffindor," said Harry, and it was the absolute truth. He was glad that the Sorting Hat had decided as it had. "Going to bed in a dungeon at night would remind me too much of—" he started to say that it would remind him too much of the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys' house, but then decided that that was none of Dumbledore's business. "Anyway, I'd rather be in a tower," he completed.
They were in Dumbledore's office, now, and Harry ended the enchantment he'd used to hide his words from prying ears.
"That's a tricky little spell," said Dumbledore mildly. "Technically forbidden in school corridors, but I cannot object to your use of it under the circumstances. And while we are on the subject of your unusual acts of service toward the school and the wizarding world in general, I believe I have uncovered the hiding place of another Horcrux. Your assistance in retrieving it would be most welcome if you are still interested."
All thoughts of Luna's shoes and Ernie's prefect badge flew from his head. "Yes!" he said eagerly. "When can we leave?"
"I believe that we shall wait until the end of the term," said Dumbledore. "No one is likely to disturb the Horcrux before that time, and your presence and mine— not to mention Professor Snape's and Professor Lupin's— will be less needed here. Not that I entirely believe that you and I will have any need of the others, but I suppose we shall indulge their need to be trusted and invite them."
"Sirius too?" asked Harry.
"Yes, Sirius as well. We shall retrieve and destroy a Horcrux and then celebrate Christmas the next day. Are you amenable to that?"
"It sounds wonderful," said Harry, and it did.
To be continued.
Auxiliary Disclaimer: The description of the Hufflepuff common room relies on JKR's website and the Hogwarts Mystery game. The description of the Ravenclaw common room is ripped directly from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. A few lines of Luna's dialog borrowed from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Recommendation:
The Strange Disappearance of Sally-Anne Perks by Paimpont. It is story ID number 6243892 on this site.
Summary: Harry recalls that a pale little girl called Sally-Anne was sorted into Hufflepuff during his first year, but no one else remembers her. Was there really a Sally-Anne? Harry and Hermione set out to solve the chilling mystery of the lost Hogwarts student.
For this Hufflepuff-adjacent chapter, I recommend a Hufflepuff-adjacent story that apparently everyone else in the fandom read ten years ago when I was on a break. But hey, it lives up to its fame and hype: riveting with an unusually canon-like feel. So if you're like me and managed to miss it, go ahead and catch it now. It's 36,000 words, so not a massive undertaking.
