Christmas was just around the corner. Ron had invited him to come to the Burrow with him to celebrate the holidays, but he'd politely declined because he really couldn't stand being around people anymore. He was in desperate need for some solitude just so he could set his mask of normalcy down and be himself. He was actually looking forward to the time he would have to be by himself when Ron and Hermione would leave for the holidays this afternoon.
He had just picked up his cup of tea to take a sip when Hermione yelped. He saw that she was staring at the Daily Prophet so that sound that she'd just made was probably about some news. He was no longer interested in news. Whatever happened outside the world simply failed to concern him anymore. It was Ron that inquired,
"What?"
For answer, she spread the newspaper on the table in front of them and pointed at eleven black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, ten showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban. There was only one picture that grabbed Harry's attention,
"Sirius."
Hermione nudged Harry and pointed at the headline over the pictures, which Harry, concentrating on Sirius, had not yet read,
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN
Harry sat back and let the happiness soak right into his bones. He never wanted the feeling to end. He closed his eyes and savoured the moment, but never released his grip on the seemingly inconsequential piece of paper and ink in his hands. For the first time in months his body and mind relaxed. Sirius was free. Tom had kept his promise and freed him.
Opening his eyes, he began reading the article that accompanied the pictures,
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 for 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 for the first time,' said Fudge last night. 'Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. 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 we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.'
Harry pushed the newspaper away as he took a sip of his tea. How ignorant could the Ministry possibly be? It didn't matter that they were blaming Sirius for helping others escape. But this breakout clearly implied that the Dementors had joined Tom's side.
He looked up and realized the fearful looks on Ron and Hermione's faces as Hermione whispered,
"Why would Sirius escape with all those death eaters? It doesn't make any sense… He could have escaped alone."
Harry leaned back in his seat,
"Why does it matter? At least he's free now."
Hermione scoffed,
"Harry, I don't think you realize how terrible these people are. Bellatrix Lestrange tortured Neville's parents to insanity. These people are You know Who's worst supporters. The fact that they're free is absolutely horrifying."
Maybe that information would have bothered him once upon a time but right now he couldn't bring himself to care about all the cruel things those people had done. The only thing he cared about was that Sirius was free and that was more than enough for him to feel some semblance of joy.
Did that make him a horrible person? Maybe…But he'd accepted that fact, the first time he'd given himself up to Tom.
Right now, he couldn't stand the discussion Ron and Hermione were having. It was apparent that they weren't sharing his joy over the breakout and he was afraid he'd say something incriminating if he stayed a moment more in their presence.
He finished the rest of his tea and rose to his feet,
"I'm going for a walk… I think I need some air."
He rose to his feet and glanced up at the staff table. Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were deep in conversation, both looking extremely grave. Professor Sprout had the Prophet propped against a bottle of ketchup and was reading the front page with such concentration that she was not noticing the gentle drip of egg yolk falling into her lap from her stationary spoon.
He was about to leave when he noticed another smaller headline on the page that Hermione was currently reading. He spoke,
"Can I see that?"
Hermione handed him the newspaper wordlessly and Harry began reading
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. 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.'
He handed the newspaper back to Hermione as he began walking out of the Great Hall with a great deal of questions buzzing through his head. Bode had helped him retrieve that artefact for Tom. He still had no idea what that artefact had been or how it had been useful to Tom but everything about the circumstances of Bode's death screamed that he'd been murdered, and Harry couldn't help but feel that it was due to that artefact.
He felt the cold wind slam him on his face as soon as he stepped out on the lawns. It was snowing but Harry didn't care as he trudged through the snow covered grass and made his way towards the lake. He was almost there when a voice halted him in his tracks,
"Oi, Potter."
Harry halted and turned around to find himself face to face with Draco Malfoy,
"What do you want, Malfoy?"
Draco pursed his lips like he was unsure about what he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke,
"My father sent me a letter this morning."
Harry felt a jolt in his stomach as hope began blossoming inside his chest,
"What did it say?"
Draco was chewing on his lip nervously as he spoke,
"He told me to tell you to not spend the Christmas at the Weasley's or at Hogwarts."
That didn't make much sense, but Harry had a feeling that Draco wasn't telling him the complete contents of the letter,
"I wasn't really planning on going to the Weasley's this year but did he say why I couldn't spend Christmas at Hogwarts?"
Draco sighed before grumbling,
"He said that you should spend the Christmas with us."
Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that,
"Us?"
Draco growled in frustration,
"Us…Meaning that you should spend the Christmas at Malfoy Manor."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest,
"Why?"
Draco threw his hands up in the air as he whined,
"Why do you ask so many questions, Potter? Isn't it obvious?"
Harry couldn't stop the butterflies that were fluttering in his stomach as he inquired,
"What's obvious?"
Draco looked near enough to exploding,
"The Dark Lord ordered my father to write that letter. I don't know why he wants you at Malfoy Manor, but he does so you'd better comply, or it won't bode well for me or my family."
The happiness he felt in that moment was infectious. It started as a tingle in his fingers and toes, much like the feeling he had when he was anxious, but instead of worrisome it was warm. He felt it pass through him like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of the past months and left him feeling so alive.
Tom wanted him to spend the Christmas with him. There could be nothing better than that.
"Won't it look suspicious though?"
Draco nodded in agreement,
"It will…That's why you'll be going to your relative's house first. My father will pick you up from there."
Harry felt like laughing with the joy that was currently bubbling up inside his chest. Today was the happiest he'd felt in a long time. The last time he'd felt this happy was when he'd been wrapped up in Tom's arms. He hoped to be wrapped up in them again very soon.