At breakfast all the students received their term timetables. Harry, not
surprisingly, had all the same courses as Ron, but Hermione had been
selected to join several advanced classes. Harry and Ron examined her
timetable in disbelief.
"Intermediate Ancient Runes?" Ron read incredulously. "Complicated Arithmancy? Complex Charms? Advanced Transfiguration Techniques? Hermione, how are you going to do all this work? Harry, look at this. Supplementary Studies of Poisonous Plants! Hermione, did you read this at all? Complex Charms is for sixth years! You're taking sixth-year classes!"
"And?" Hermione was calmly buttering her toast. "What's wrong with that?"
"Well, for starters, you're only in fifth year," said Harry.
"Yeah, how're you going to keep up with the stuff we haven't learned yet?" challenged Ron.
"Unless you've got hold of some new gadget that lets you advance time and learn ahead or something," said Harry. Ron looked puzzled. "Well, we can't put it past her. Don't you remember the fiasco with that Time-Turner?"
Ron groaned. "I'm almost glad I missed out on the experience of being sucked back three hours into the past. But seriously Hermione, won't you be loaded down with assignments all the time? You'll probably have too much work to even talk with us-"
"And I'll be too busy to get involved in your ridiculous antics," interjected Hermione. "I'm tired of getting you two out of scrapes all the time."
Just then, a hundred post owls swooped into the Great Hall, searching for the addressees and depositing letters and parcels in the appropriate laps. Harry wasn't expecting anything because Hedwig was asleep in the Hogwarts Owlery, but Hermione received her copy of the Daily Prophet, the newspaper of wizarding England to which she had a subscription. Hermione unfolded the paper and read the front page headline.
"They've caught another Death Eater just outside London," she reported, holding the newspaper out to Harry. "A witch named Eleanor Lovegood."
Ron choked while eating and almost swallowed his fork. He snatched the paper out of Harry's hand. "Did you say Eleanor Lovegood? You- you can't be serious!"
"You know her?"
Ron nodded frantically as he scanned the front page article. "The Lovegood family lives in Ottery St. Catchpole. They're family friends. Eleanor Lovegood was this really nice witch who used to send me presents for my birthday. Last year she sent me a box of Chocolate Frogs." He gasped and clutched at his stomach. "And I ate them!"
"Ron, if there was poison in them you would have felt its effects by now," Harry said.
Ron still looked distraught. "I can't believe it. Eleanor Lovegood! I never thought. She used to be really kind and generous. It's so weird that someone so good could suddenly change sides."
"Could I have my paper back?" Hermione gently prised the newspaper out of Ron's hand. "I see Rita Skeeter's still frightened that I'll tell on her."
"So she's stopped writing?" Harry asked.
"Not entirely. She's being given little assignments, she's not writing that sensationalist rubbish like last year. But I think she's rather lost her spark. This article she wrote on the Weird Sisters concert in Southampton is so boring my eyes could fall out while I'm reading it."
"Perhaps she can't write well unless she's ruining people," Ron said. He frowned. "But one day that madwoman'll be back, writing that Harry should be put in St. Mungo's and my dad's muddling up the entire Ministry and inventing giant overblown conspiracy theories from someone saying that the weather's a bit warm."
Harry was only half listening to Ron's ranting. He was looking across the table because Hermione had the Daily Prophet open and he could read the article about Eleanor Lovegood on the front page of the Daily Prophet. It said that under forcible questioning by Ministry officials (and under the influence of Veritaserum, Harry supposed), Lovegood had confessed to being a Voldemort supporter since pre-Harry Potter days, and having participated in the demonstration at the Quidditch World Cup the year before. She had denied any involvement in the murder of three prominent members of the Bones family the year before Harry's birth, but had made verifiable statements exonerating the wizard Audley Dunstan from such allegations, and implicating the Lestranges, a married couple. Lovegood claimed that Dunstan, who was currently serving a life sentence for the use of the killing curse on Lewella Bones, had been framed by the real murderer, Derrick Lestrange. It was declared by Lovegood that the murders of the other two, which had been charged to Death Eater Halvard Travers, were actually committed by Maldora Lestrange in a cover-up operation. Travers and the Lestranges were presently in Azkaban for the known murders of many other people, magic and non-magic, and would never leave the fortress' walls; but if the allegations were proven true, Dunstan's name could be cleared as Lewella Bones' murder was his only charge. Dunstan's family had convinced the Ministry to hold a re-trial, which was scheduled for mid- November.
An idea was forming in Harry's head as he read the comments of Dunstan's hopeful wife, who was leading the movement for Dunstan's release. He turned to Ron and Hermione.
"Did you read this article?" Harry asked them.
"Only a bit," Hermione said. "I read that Dumbledore was present at the interview."
"I read that Eleanor Lovegood has been a Death Eater for over fifteen years," said Ron. "And it said that in the middle of the interrogation she had a fit and started screaming that all Muggle-lovers would one day get their comeuppance from her master, the greatest wizard the world has known." He shivered.
"I read," Harry said, "that Eleanor Lovegood's statements are going to clear the name of Audley Dunstan, who was falsely accused of murder." He lowered his voice. "Don't you see? The same thing could happen for Sirius Black! If we found someone who could testify that Wormtail was a Death Eater and that he staged the whole thing to get Sirius in Azkaban, we could clear Sirius' name!"
Ron's eyes were wide. "Do you think we could really find someone who would do that?"
Harry was thinking. "Well, there were about two or three dozen Death Eaters last year with Voldemort," he said, ignoring Ron's flinching at the name. "I bet at least one of them must know about it."
Hermione looked hopeful and doubtful at the same time. "I do want Sirius to be cleared, Harry, but we can't possibly catch a Death Eater and get him to confess. I know you heard their names, but when are we ever going to come into contact with those people? We can't exactly start a pen-friend correspondence with Lucius Malfoy and ask him. We might as well ask You- Know-Who to high tea and casually slip Veritaserum into his cake or something."
"You don't really think Voldemort'd come back here, do you?" asked Harry
Hermione had seemed very certain of herself on the train, but faced again with the emergent danger she looked indecisive. "Maybe. it's hard to tell. But the Ministry will look out for us, and of course Professor Dumbledore's always here."
Harry looked up to the head table, and the sight of Albus Dumbledore's unmistakable long silver beard provided some comfort. It was nice to have people you could count on.
"What's your first class?" asked Hermione, running her finger down the first column of her timetable.
"Transfiguration," said Harry.
"Fifth-year Transfiguration," Ron added pointedly, looking at Hermione.
"Well, I have Arithmancy first," said Hermione briskly, "But I'll see you at lunch and we can go down to double Potions together."
"Double Potions!" Ron scanned his timetable and grimaced. "Not again!" For the past five years, the Gryffindors had had double Potions classes with the Slytherins of the same year, and since Severus Snape, the Potions Master and head of Slytherin House, inevitably favoured his students, Potions was always unbearable.
"When's our first Defence Against the Dark Arts?" asked Harry. He was curious about when they would get to see Professor Figg in action.
"Wednesday morning," said Hermione. "I have that with you, too."
"It's about the only bloody thing I'm looking forward to in this whole timetable," grumbled Ron. "Hey Harry, is Figg nice? D'you think she'll give us a lot of homework?"
"I hope not," said Harry. "I was starting to like learning Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Even last year?" asked Hermione.
"Well, until I found out that the teacher was an imposter, bent on killing me," said Harry. "After that my enjoyment in the class went a bit downhill, as you might expect."
After breakfast they parted, Hermione heading towards the east wing of the castle to her Arithmancy class while Ron and Harry went into Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She began the class by reminding the class that their O.W.L.'s, or Ordinary Wizarding Level standardized exams, would take place at the end of this year, and hinting that the majority of the questions would deal with Transfiguration. She also announced that they might be beginning human Transfiguration this year, and this drew an excited reaction from the students, who hadn't expected to be able to learn human Transfiguration until sixth or seventh year.
Their first task, however, was much simpler: to Transfigure a pocket watch into a grandfather clock, while still keeping the proper time. But Harry and Ron made little progress. By the end of class Harry had only managed to produce a featureless block of wood that ticked, and Ron had had to ask for a new pocket watch because his spell had caused the first one to explode. The best clock belonged to Parvati Patil, who had been able to Transfigure the pocket watch into the form of a grandfather clock, but its face had three extra hours and only one hand, which zipped erratically around the hours and kept switching direction. All the Gryffindors were completely frustrated as they left the Transfiguration room.
"I can't believe this," Harry grumbled. "I practised my spells all summer and all I end up with is an amorphous metronome."
"It looked more like someone stuck a time bomb inside a tree stump," objected Ron.
Dean laughed. "Ron, yours couldn't've been any worse than mine, which sprouted legs and ran out the door."
"At least we weren't as bad as Neville, he accidentally made his a wet sponge-"
"That was lucky, since we had to use the water in the sponge to put out Seamus' watch when it caught fire."
"You might even say it was quick thinking," Neville Longbottom interrupted.
"No Neville, no one would say that. It was just a fluke."
"What have we got next?" Harry asked Ron.
Ron checked his timetable and groaned. "Oh no."
"It's Divination, isn't it?" said Harry.
Ron looked at him wonderingly. "How did you know?"
"Maybe I have the Inner Eye like Trelawney," joked Harry.
"Inner Eye! Ha. Evil Eye is more like it."
"Wonder how many times she'll predict my death today," Harry said peevishly as they began their ascent to the North tower.
"I wager at least twice before ten minutes are up," Ron said.
"Five Knuts says it's three times," Seamus Finnigan said.
"Welcome back to Divination, my young pupils," murmured Professor Trelawney when they entered her classroom seventy-eight stairsteps later. "I trust we all had a good summer? I do hope none of us saw any Grims." Here her eyes strayed to Harry, who determinedly stared at the floor.
"One," muttered Ron under his breath.
"This year we shall advance our studies with the crystal ball and with the stars, and we may begin the branch of Divination called Tarot cartomancy, in which we read our futures in Tarot cards. But the path to the Inner Eye is strewn with the unsuccessful souls of the idle and the indolent. Yes, it takes much diligence and effort to achieve one's inner perception. I foresee a great deal of exertion in the coming months for this class."
Ron sighed. "Just what I wanted."
"But class, the Inner Eye has also divined to me that one of our number may leave us unexpectedly before this school year is done. and perhaps that entity may never return."
Parvati and Lavender gasped, and again Professor Trelawney fixed her gaze on Harry, but he had already heard all these prophesies before, and he simply avoided her eyes.
"Two," hissed Ron, chuckling.
By the end of class Ron's tally of times that Professor Trelawney had prophesized Harry's death had reached nine, and Harry had seen Dean Thomas fall asleep twice, though Professor Trelawney hadn't noticed.
"We should have followed Hermione's lead and dropped Divination," Harry said to Ron as they slid down the ladder from the Divination classroom.
Ron shrugged. "Maybe we will. She did say that someone in the class was going to leave forever. I bet it'll be one of us, ditching the course."
"I hope it's me," said Harry.
"No, I'll get sick of it before you."
"I'm already sick of it."
"But you haven't quit yet."
"Exactly, I haven't quit, yet. But she said I'd be out of there by June."
"Unless you die first. She said that too."
"Intermediate Ancient Runes?" Ron read incredulously. "Complicated Arithmancy? Complex Charms? Advanced Transfiguration Techniques? Hermione, how are you going to do all this work? Harry, look at this. Supplementary Studies of Poisonous Plants! Hermione, did you read this at all? Complex Charms is for sixth years! You're taking sixth-year classes!"
"And?" Hermione was calmly buttering her toast. "What's wrong with that?"
"Well, for starters, you're only in fifth year," said Harry.
"Yeah, how're you going to keep up with the stuff we haven't learned yet?" challenged Ron.
"Unless you've got hold of some new gadget that lets you advance time and learn ahead or something," said Harry. Ron looked puzzled. "Well, we can't put it past her. Don't you remember the fiasco with that Time-Turner?"
Ron groaned. "I'm almost glad I missed out on the experience of being sucked back three hours into the past. But seriously Hermione, won't you be loaded down with assignments all the time? You'll probably have too much work to even talk with us-"
"And I'll be too busy to get involved in your ridiculous antics," interjected Hermione. "I'm tired of getting you two out of scrapes all the time."
Just then, a hundred post owls swooped into the Great Hall, searching for the addressees and depositing letters and parcels in the appropriate laps. Harry wasn't expecting anything because Hedwig was asleep in the Hogwarts Owlery, but Hermione received her copy of the Daily Prophet, the newspaper of wizarding England to which she had a subscription. Hermione unfolded the paper and read the front page headline.
"They've caught another Death Eater just outside London," she reported, holding the newspaper out to Harry. "A witch named Eleanor Lovegood."
Ron choked while eating and almost swallowed his fork. He snatched the paper out of Harry's hand. "Did you say Eleanor Lovegood? You- you can't be serious!"
"You know her?"
Ron nodded frantically as he scanned the front page article. "The Lovegood family lives in Ottery St. Catchpole. They're family friends. Eleanor Lovegood was this really nice witch who used to send me presents for my birthday. Last year she sent me a box of Chocolate Frogs." He gasped and clutched at his stomach. "And I ate them!"
"Ron, if there was poison in them you would have felt its effects by now," Harry said.
Ron still looked distraught. "I can't believe it. Eleanor Lovegood! I never thought. She used to be really kind and generous. It's so weird that someone so good could suddenly change sides."
"Could I have my paper back?" Hermione gently prised the newspaper out of Ron's hand. "I see Rita Skeeter's still frightened that I'll tell on her."
"So she's stopped writing?" Harry asked.
"Not entirely. She's being given little assignments, she's not writing that sensationalist rubbish like last year. But I think she's rather lost her spark. This article she wrote on the Weird Sisters concert in Southampton is so boring my eyes could fall out while I'm reading it."
"Perhaps she can't write well unless she's ruining people," Ron said. He frowned. "But one day that madwoman'll be back, writing that Harry should be put in St. Mungo's and my dad's muddling up the entire Ministry and inventing giant overblown conspiracy theories from someone saying that the weather's a bit warm."
Harry was only half listening to Ron's ranting. He was looking across the table because Hermione had the Daily Prophet open and he could read the article about Eleanor Lovegood on the front page of the Daily Prophet. It said that under forcible questioning by Ministry officials (and under the influence of Veritaserum, Harry supposed), Lovegood had confessed to being a Voldemort supporter since pre-Harry Potter days, and having participated in the demonstration at the Quidditch World Cup the year before. She had denied any involvement in the murder of three prominent members of the Bones family the year before Harry's birth, but had made verifiable statements exonerating the wizard Audley Dunstan from such allegations, and implicating the Lestranges, a married couple. Lovegood claimed that Dunstan, who was currently serving a life sentence for the use of the killing curse on Lewella Bones, had been framed by the real murderer, Derrick Lestrange. It was declared by Lovegood that the murders of the other two, which had been charged to Death Eater Halvard Travers, were actually committed by Maldora Lestrange in a cover-up operation. Travers and the Lestranges were presently in Azkaban for the known murders of many other people, magic and non-magic, and would never leave the fortress' walls; but if the allegations were proven true, Dunstan's name could be cleared as Lewella Bones' murder was his only charge. Dunstan's family had convinced the Ministry to hold a re-trial, which was scheduled for mid- November.
An idea was forming in Harry's head as he read the comments of Dunstan's hopeful wife, who was leading the movement for Dunstan's release. He turned to Ron and Hermione.
"Did you read this article?" Harry asked them.
"Only a bit," Hermione said. "I read that Dumbledore was present at the interview."
"I read that Eleanor Lovegood has been a Death Eater for over fifteen years," said Ron. "And it said that in the middle of the interrogation she had a fit and started screaming that all Muggle-lovers would one day get their comeuppance from her master, the greatest wizard the world has known." He shivered.
"I read," Harry said, "that Eleanor Lovegood's statements are going to clear the name of Audley Dunstan, who was falsely accused of murder." He lowered his voice. "Don't you see? The same thing could happen for Sirius Black! If we found someone who could testify that Wormtail was a Death Eater and that he staged the whole thing to get Sirius in Azkaban, we could clear Sirius' name!"
Ron's eyes were wide. "Do you think we could really find someone who would do that?"
Harry was thinking. "Well, there were about two or three dozen Death Eaters last year with Voldemort," he said, ignoring Ron's flinching at the name. "I bet at least one of them must know about it."
Hermione looked hopeful and doubtful at the same time. "I do want Sirius to be cleared, Harry, but we can't possibly catch a Death Eater and get him to confess. I know you heard their names, but when are we ever going to come into contact with those people? We can't exactly start a pen-friend correspondence with Lucius Malfoy and ask him. We might as well ask You- Know-Who to high tea and casually slip Veritaserum into his cake or something."
"You don't really think Voldemort'd come back here, do you?" asked Harry
Hermione had seemed very certain of herself on the train, but faced again with the emergent danger she looked indecisive. "Maybe. it's hard to tell. But the Ministry will look out for us, and of course Professor Dumbledore's always here."
Harry looked up to the head table, and the sight of Albus Dumbledore's unmistakable long silver beard provided some comfort. It was nice to have people you could count on.
"What's your first class?" asked Hermione, running her finger down the first column of her timetable.
"Transfiguration," said Harry.
"Fifth-year Transfiguration," Ron added pointedly, looking at Hermione.
"Well, I have Arithmancy first," said Hermione briskly, "But I'll see you at lunch and we can go down to double Potions together."
"Double Potions!" Ron scanned his timetable and grimaced. "Not again!" For the past five years, the Gryffindors had had double Potions classes with the Slytherins of the same year, and since Severus Snape, the Potions Master and head of Slytherin House, inevitably favoured his students, Potions was always unbearable.
"When's our first Defence Against the Dark Arts?" asked Harry. He was curious about when they would get to see Professor Figg in action.
"Wednesday morning," said Hermione. "I have that with you, too."
"It's about the only bloody thing I'm looking forward to in this whole timetable," grumbled Ron. "Hey Harry, is Figg nice? D'you think she'll give us a lot of homework?"
"I hope not," said Harry. "I was starting to like learning Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Even last year?" asked Hermione.
"Well, until I found out that the teacher was an imposter, bent on killing me," said Harry. "After that my enjoyment in the class went a bit downhill, as you might expect."
After breakfast they parted, Hermione heading towards the east wing of the castle to her Arithmancy class while Ron and Harry went into Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. She began the class by reminding the class that their O.W.L.'s, or Ordinary Wizarding Level standardized exams, would take place at the end of this year, and hinting that the majority of the questions would deal with Transfiguration. She also announced that they might be beginning human Transfiguration this year, and this drew an excited reaction from the students, who hadn't expected to be able to learn human Transfiguration until sixth or seventh year.
Their first task, however, was much simpler: to Transfigure a pocket watch into a grandfather clock, while still keeping the proper time. But Harry and Ron made little progress. By the end of class Harry had only managed to produce a featureless block of wood that ticked, and Ron had had to ask for a new pocket watch because his spell had caused the first one to explode. The best clock belonged to Parvati Patil, who had been able to Transfigure the pocket watch into the form of a grandfather clock, but its face had three extra hours and only one hand, which zipped erratically around the hours and kept switching direction. All the Gryffindors were completely frustrated as they left the Transfiguration room.
"I can't believe this," Harry grumbled. "I practised my spells all summer and all I end up with is an amorphous metronome."
"It looked more like someone stuck a time bomb inside a tree stump," objected Ron.
Dean laughed. "Ron, yours couldn't've been any worse than mine, which sprouted legs and ran out the door."
"At least we weren't as bad as Neville, he accidentally made his a wet sponge-"
"That was lucky, since we had to use the water in the sponge to put out Seamus' watch when it caught fire."
"You might even say it was quick thinking," Neville Longbottom interrupted.
"No Neville, no one would say that. It was just a fluke."
"What have we got next?" Harry asked Ron.
Ron checked his timetable and groaned. "Oh no."
"It's Divination, isn't it?" said Harry.
Ron looked at him wonderingly. "How did you know?"
"Maybe I have the Inner Eye like Trelawney," joked Harry.
"Inner Eye! Ha. Evil Eye is more like it."
"Wonder how many times she'll predict my death today," Harry said peevishly as they began their ascent to the North tower.
"I wager at least twice before ten minutes are up," Ron said.
"Five Knuts says it's three times," Seamus Finnigan said.
"Welcome back to Divination, my young pupils," murmured Professor Trelawney when they entered her classroom seventy-eight stairsteps later. "I trust we all had a good summer? I do hope none of us saw any Grims." Here her eyes strayed to Harry, who determinedly stared at the floor.
"One," muttered Ron under his breath.
"This year we shall advance our studies with the crystal ball and with the stars, and we may begin the branch of Divination called Tarot cartomancy, in which we read our futures in Tarot cards. But the path to the Inner Eye is strewn with the unsuccessful souls of the idle and the indolent. Yes, it takes much diligence and effort to achieve one's inner perception. I foresee a great deal of exertion in the coming months for this class."
Ron sighed. "Just what I wanted."
"But class, the Inner Eye has also divined to me that one of our number may leave us unexpectedly before this school year is done. and perhaps that entity may never return."
Parvati and Lavender gasped, and again Professor Trelawney fixed her gaze on Harry, but he had already heard all these prophesies before, and he simply avoided her eyes.
"Two," hissed Ron, chuckling.
By the end of class Ron's tally of times that Professor Trelawney had prophesized Harry's death had reached nine, and Harry had seen Dean Thomas fall asleep twice, though Professor Trelawney hadn't noticed.
"We should have followed Hermione's lead and dropped Divination," Harry said to Ron as they slid down the ladder from the Divination classroom.
Ron shrugged. "Maybe we will. She did say that someone in the class was going to leave forever. I bet it'll be one of us, ditching the course."
"I hope it's me," said Harry.
"No, I'll get sick of it before you."
"I'm already sick of it."
"But you haven't quit yet."
"Exactly, I haven't quit, yet. But she said I'd be out of there by June."
"Unless you die first. She said that too."
