Chapter 14: Sweet and Sour
Harry was groggy when he opened his eyes the next morning. He desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew that the day was going to start anyway, with or without him.
Harry climbed out of bed and began to dress. Seamus, Dean, and Neville were already gone, but the curtains of Ron's four-poster were still closed.
"Wake up, Ron," said Harry.
"Mmmmph… goway."
Harry reached over and picked up his Firebolt that was leaning against the wall. He took hold of the twigs and jabbed at the curtains with the handle.
"Ow!" yelped Ron. The curtains flew aside; Ron was sitting bolt upright, looking very grumpy. "What'd you do that for?"
"I'm getting you out of bed," said Harry. "Come on, we're going to be late."
Ron groaned. "Ugh, I feel like I didn't sleep at all," he said.
"Me too," said Harry, "but at least we've got these." He unwrapped his silver-white candy and popped it in his mouth.
The candy had been solid enough in the wrapper, but the moment it touched his tongue it began to dissolve. Harry recognized the refreshing sensation that began to flow through him when he swallowed it – it was just like the effect of the potion Dumbledore had made him drink when he first woke up at Alverbrooke. But where the potion had been tasteless, the candy was sugary sweet.
"Do they help?" said Ron from inside his cardigan, his voice muffled.
"Yeah," said Harry. He was in the act of gathering up his books when he remembered the talisman Remus and Sirius had given him. Ron was still staggering about the dormitory, so he didn't notice Harry remove the small box from his trunk, pin the emerald to the inside of his shirt, and tuck the box away again. Harry hadn't quite decided whether or not to tell Ron and Hermione about the gift, but for the time being he was content to let it remain a secret.
Harry pulled on his robes and turned to look at himself in the mirror. Under all those layers of clothing, the talisman was completely invisible.
"I'm heading down to breakfast, you're taking too long," said Harry. Ron mumbled something unintelligible for an answer, and Harry left.
He found Hermione at the Gryffindor table. She was so focused on a copy of the Daily Prophet that she failed to notice when a large blob of jam slid off her toast and onto her robes. "So you renewed your subscription?" said Harry, sitting down next to her and reaching for the bacon.
"Mmmm," she said. She scanned the paper for a moment longer, then folded it up. "Not a word about the prophecy," she said. "I don't think we'll be so lucky tomorrow, though. Where's Ron?"
"Still getting dressed," said Harry. "He'll speed up once he eats his candy." Mention of the prophecy made Harry aware of the unusual level of noise in the Great Hall. The morning meal was usually the quietest of the day, but on this morning, everyone seemed to be doing more talking than eating. Harry concentrated on his breakfast and willed them keep on ignoring him and talking to each other.
Ron appeared in the Great Hall with just enough time to wolf down some food and compare schedules. "What've we got first?" he asked around a mouthful of egg.
Hermione winced at his manners, but she pulled her schedule out of her bag. "Well, Potions is first. With the Slytherins," she added. "Then I have Ancient Runes, and after lunch there's History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. Ugh, with the Slytherins again!"
"Potions first thing Monday morning," sighed Harry. "What a way to start the week."
"Hurry up, Ron, we've got ten minutes to get all the way down to the dungeons," urged Hermione.
They made it with two minutes to spare, and took their usual seats. As Harry set up his cauldron, he was keenly aware of all the people stealing furtive glances at him. Malfoy was leering especially hard, but Harry pretended that he hadn't noticed, and kept his eyes on his equipment.
The dungeon door banged open. Snape strode into the classroom in his usual flurry of black and began to lecture them without preamble. "Your fifth year at Hogwarts is one of the most important and demanding of the seven you experience here," he said in a hard voice. "The marks you receive on your O.W.L.s determine the courses you can take in your sixth and seventh years, as well as the careers you may enter into. I will tell you now that I am disappointed every year in the work of most of the students, and nothing but the most exceptional work will gain you admission into my Advanced Potions classes. So if you wish to become an Alchemist, Auror, Healer, or enter into any one of the other many professions that requires skill in potionmaking, you will work harder this year than you ever have before, or your dreams will become dust."
Hermione's face was a mask of determination; Ron went pale and gulped.
Snape's coal-black eyes scoured the class. He spent no more time looking at Harry than he did at anyone else, and Harry noticed that not even Malfoy was spared.
"That being said," Snape said, his lip curling, "we will start the year by reviewing a few more basic potions. Based on last year's examinations, a very scant few of you possess the skills necessary to enter into Advanced Potions." Harry knew that the only person he could possibly be referring to was Hermione, whose work was always flawless.
"And you, Mr. Potter," said Snape. Harry blinked in surprise. "You will have to work very hard to convince me that your work is up to snuff as I have absolutely no final grades from last year to gauge your work by."
Harry set his jaw. This was horribly unfair; all the Triwizard champions had been exempt from final examinations on Dumbledore's orders. However different Snape had seemed at Alverbrooke, he was certainly back to his old self. "Yes, sir," he said coldly, meeting the Potions Master stare for stare. He didn't need to see Malfoy's face to know that Draco was smirking gleefully at him. I'll show you, you greasy old vampire! thought Harry. I'm going to be an Auror and you're not going to stop me!
Snape turned away from Harry and waved his wand at the blackboard. A piece of chalk floated off the rack and began to write instructions upon the board. "We will be making Shrinking Solutions today," he said. "You may begin."
No one spoke to each other during the entire length of the class. Harry concentrated as hard as he could on weighing his ingredients exactly, letting the potion simmer for the right length of time, stirring it in the proper direction the correct number of times… It was tiring work to be so scrupulous for so long, but as the end of the hour approached, Harry's cauldron contained a clear green solution that looked just like Hermione's. Ron's had a distinctly bluish tinge to it, but Harry knew that it was far better than what Ron usually turned out.
"Time is up," Snape said softly from the front of the room. "Put down your spoons. Right now, Miss Brown! You will clean up only after I have inspected everyone's work."
Snape began to circle the room, peering into the students' cauldrons and making notes on a parchment. He was as merciless with the Slytherins as he was with the Gryffindors. "Miss Brown, this is absolutely appalling… Mr. Longbottom, did you add the pomegranate juice at all?… No, no, no, Goyle, read the instructions, you never stirred counterclockwise!"
A ball of ice formed in Harry's stomach as Snape came over to his bench. He awarded Hermione full marks in an utterly expressionless voice, and snapped at Ron that he had not simmered his potion long enough. Finally he peered into Harry's cauldron, and then into Harry's eyes. "Did you have help from Miss Granger, Mr. Potter?" he hissed.
"Ron, as you see, is standing between us," said Harry flatly, holding Snape's gaze. "And no one spoke during the entire class."
Snape narrowed his eyes but straightened up and said, rather grudgingly, "Miracles do happen. Full marks, Potter."
They cleared up as quickly as they could; it was a long way from the dungeons to the tower where Divination was held.
"See you at lunch," said Hermione as they left the dungeons. "Good job, Harry!"
"Wow," said Ron as they climbed the stone staircase to the first floor. "Full marks! I thought Snape was going to find some excuse to dock your grade."
"Your potion turned out pretty well, too," said Harry.
"Yeah, it was pretty good for me, wasn't it?" said Ron. His face became rather downcast. "I didn't know that you needed Advanced Potions to become an Auror," he said.
"Is that what you want to do?" said Harry. "Be an Auror?"
"I think so," said Ron. "I mean, it'd be wicked, wouldn't it? Everyone knows they're the best of the best."
"Well, that's what I want to do, too," said Harry. "You could argue that I was born to do it…"
"Yeah, you're like an unofficial Junior Auror," said Ron, laughing.
"Who's more lucky than skilled," said Harry.
"We could be Aurors together!" said Ron excitedly. "That'd be grand…"
"I don't think this year is going to be much fun," said Harry. "If we're going to be Aurors then we're going to have to get into Snape's Advanced Potions class."
"You know, that's almost enough to make me reconsider," said Ron. "Maybe we should talk to McGonagall, I'll bet she'd tell us what we have to do."
"Good idea," said Harry. "We've got Transfiguration tomorrow, we can talk to her after class."
They had reached the silvery ladder that led to the Divination classroom. "At least we won't have to take this class next year," said Harry. "There's no way you need to be able to read tea leaves to fight Dark wizards."
They climbed the ladder through the trapdoor. The classroom was full of small tables surrounded by chintz poufs. On each table sat a small tea lamp draped with a colored silk cloth; the shades on the windows were partly drawn so that the entire room was bathed in a kind of half-light. A smell of incense hung heavily in the air.
Harry and Ron took seats at one of the small tables, and Ron sneezed violently. "Ugh, it smells a lot stronger than… ACHOO!… usual. I don't think this class is going to be any picnic either," he said, rubbing his nose. "You can bet that all we're going to hear about is what happened last night…"
"Well, they can't wait to talk about it," said Harry, pointing at Parvati and Lavender who were sitting at a table not far away, positively quivering with excitement.
They did not have to wait long for Professor Trelawney to appear. She swooped into the room draped in her usual shawls and bangles; her large glasses magnified her eyes, making her seem extraordinarily bug-like.
"Good morning, class!" she purred. "What an exciting time this is! For as you all observed last night, I have recently Seen!"
Parvati, Lavender, and several of the other girls clapped enthusiastically.
"Thank you, thank you," said Professor Trelawney, clasping her hands together and looking very pleased with herself. "But do not expect me to be able to teach you how to do it; only if you are born with the gift can you truly See."
"Ooooh, Professor, what was it like?" breathed Lavender.
Professor Trelawney swooped over to her table. Ron put his hands around his own throat and pantomimed strangling himself.
"I will not lie to you," said Professor Trelawney softly. "It is a dark and frightening experience. When the Inner Eye is unlidded, the Seer can do nothing but let herself be the conduit. Sadly, I am unable to recall what it revealed." She sighed tragically.
Harry exchanged looks of surprise with Ron. They had not expected her to admit that.
"But all is not lost," said Professor Trelawney. "Hundreds of people heard my words, and they have been repeated back to me." She turned to Harry, whose stomach sank. This was what he had been dreading. "My dear child," she breathed.
Harry stiffed automatically. Child?
"Destiny has labeled you; the Inner Eye is focused upon you! Your very presence at this school will make prophecy flow like a river –"
"What?" exclaimed Harry. "I was there too, you never said my name –"
"You are twice marked," she continued, "by He Who Must Not Be Named and by the heavens as well!"
"The planets are not watching me!" snapped Harry. "Jupiter doesn't care what I do!"
Professor Trelawney was completely unperturbed; on the contrary, she looked positively ecstatic. "You cannot fight your destiny," she trilled. "The Inner Eye is powerfully drawn to you. If there is another in this class with the gift, perhaps your proximity will allow their talent to be revealed!"
Ron looked completely horrified as he stared openmouthed at Professor Trelawney. Half the class was looking at Harry sympathetically while the other half eyed him eagerly. Lavender and Parvati were in transports of delight. Harry felt his face burning under the scrutiny.
Professor Trelawney glided away from Harry and Ron's table. "Alas, I fear we must get on with our work. Take out your textbooks, please."
It turned out that Professor Trelawney had a review of old topics planned for the day as well. Harry and Ron soon found themselves drinking bitter tea down to the dregs. They turned their cups over onto their saucers and stared at the lumpy, incomprehensible masses that were left.
"Take a few minutes to examine your tea leaves," said Professor Trelawney. "Then we will go round the room and share what we see."
"Do you know," said Ron, who was squinting at their saucers, "I don't think we're going to be able to resort to predicting your death anymore, now that the Inner Eye is focused on you, but that lump over there sure looks like the Grim."
Harry smiled a bit despite his bad mood. "All right, these streaks over here look like flames, and this blob looks sort of like a Snitch… and there are five stems in a puddle, so that means… a fifth year with flaming red hair is going to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and take over the Seeker position."
"Nice one, but I can state with authority that there are no fifth year Gryffindors with red hair that want to play Seeker," said Ron. "Besides, I still say that's the Grim, not a Snitch."
"Fine," said Harry. "Then what's that mess on your saucer?"
"I see a very tightly closed Inner Eye," snickered Ron.
"No, no, you fool, that's a house-elf with two heads," said Harry.
They spent enough time messing around that Harry had to resort to saying he saw the Grim when Professor Trelawney came around to their table. To no one's surprise, she disagreed.
"My dear, how can you not see? It is a guttering candle… danger is lurking in your future…"
Harry was relieved that she did not go back into all that nonsense about his importance to the Inner Eye before dismissing the class. He and Ron made their way to the Great Hall as quickly as possible where the tables were already laden with sandwiches and pumpkin juice. Hermione met them on their way in.
"So how was Divination?" she asked softly.
"Useless as always," said Harry.
"Today we learned that Harry directs the planets in their orbits," said Ron.
"Oh, no," said Hermione.
"Oh, yes," said Harry darkly. "Trelawney is convinced that her prophecy was about me."
Hermione shrugged. "Her and the rest of the school," she said. "That's not so bad."
"Ah, but that's not all," said Ron. "More prophecies are likely because the Inner Eye is so strongly drawn to him."
"What a load of old tosh," said Hermione. "I don't understand why you don't just drop that class and pick up something else."
"Because we can skive off, of course," said Ron. "Arithmancy, Ancient Runes… we'd have to think in those classes, Hermione!"
"Heaven forbid," she said wryly.
"Well, it's the last year we're going to have to take it, anyway," said Harry. "You don't have to be able to read tea leaves to become an Auror."
"Oh, you've been thinking about your career!" said Hermione approvingly. "But it sounds like it's awfully tough to join their ranks…"
"I'm going to go for it too," said Ron.
Hermione didn't say anything. Ron glared at her. "You don't think I can do it," he said.
"I didn't say that," said Hermione.
"Yes you did, you said it when you didn't say anything at all," Ron countered.
Hermione sighed. "Look, Ron, there's no way I can say this without offending you –"
"I'm not offended," said Ron tartly.
"You've never been willing to put your nose to the grindstone before," she continued, "and I don't see how you're going to be able to start now, not with all your years of non-practice."
"Well, what about Harry?" said Ron. "He's never worked as hard as you have either, and I don't hear you telling him not to bother trying –"
"I'm not telling you that!" snapped Hermione. "And I didn't tell Harry anything either!"
"I am going to do it, just wait and see," said Ron.
"I didn't say it was a bad idea!"
Ron opened his mouth again, but Harry had had enough. "We're going to talk to Professor McGonagall about it tomorrow after class," he said sharply. "And if you two want to argue any more, please tell me now so I can go sit with Fred and George."
Ron and Hermione resorted to glaring resentfully at one another for the rest of the lunch hour. On top of this, most of the students in the Great Hall were talking about last night's surprise prophecy if the way they kept turning to look at Harry was any judge. All the stares from his fellow students and the hurt silence between his friends were getting on his nerves, so Harry was very glad when it was finally time to head to History of Magic. Ron and Hermione seemed to forget to be angry with each other when they remembered, en route, that Professor Binns wasn't teaching anymore.
When they first entered the classroom, Harry thought they had gone to the wrong place until he saw his fellow students looking around in confusion as well. The room had been completely transformed. Gone were the heavy curtains from the windows, which had been thrown open to admit the afternoon breeze. The bookshelves that lined the walls were now dust and cobweb-free. Harry realized that for the first time, he could see the gilded letters on the spines of the books. The chalkboard was freshly scrubbed, and the desk at the front of the room had been polished until it shone. A large rosebush sat in the corner, its pink-orange flowers giving off a light scent.
Professor Thornby entered looking as fresh and clean in her pale blue robes as the rest of the room. She had piled her hair behind her head in an intricate twist, and Harry thought that she looked very teacher-like indeed.
"Good afternoon," she said, smiling around at them all. "Welcome to History of Magic." She waved her wand, and a piece of chalk floated up to the blackboard and wrote Professor Celeste Thornby before drifting back down to the tray again. "I understand that you were all previously taught by Professor Binns, is that correct?"
"Yes ma'am, in a manner of speaking," said Seamus.
Several students snickered at this apt characterization. "Thank you, Mr. Finnigan," said Professor Thornby, looking at a class roster in her hand. "Very well, can someone give me an overview of what you have studied so far?" she continued.
There was a pause. Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss… Granger?" said Professor Thornby, as if she had never seen Hermione before.
"Goblin rebellions," said Hermione succinctly.
"Goblin rebellions?" the professor repeated.
"Yes, that and the Giant Wars," said Hermione. "That's pretty much it."
"I see," said Professor Thornby. "Rest assured that we will not be discussing goblin rebellions or the Giant Wars as main topics this year. However, you are woefully behind on just about everything else, so be prepared to work. Professor Bellaton and I have decided that History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts should be taught in tandem this year. In my class you will be learning the history behind many of the spells and defense techniques that you will use in his."
The students looked at each other with barely-concealed excitement.
"Have you all a copy of the textbook for this class?"
Everyone pulled out A History of Magical Conflict, which was rather thick and heavy.
"Excellent. We will be starting with the so-called War of Darkness, which began in 1435. This was an especially long and messy affair, but some of the most ingenious and complex attacks and defenses were devised during it. Can anyone tell me who instigated this war?"
Hermione's hand shot up in the air. Hers was the only one that was raised.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"The Dark Sorceress Carabosse enchanted the Princess of Romania to forever sleep," Hermione recited. "The witches and wizards loyal to her father fought back. The conflict lasted twenty years, and during the course of it most of the kingdom was cursed to sleep as well."
"Very good!" said Professor Thornby. "Ten points to Gryffindor." Hermione flushed with pleasure.
"The modern fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty comes from the War of Darkness," Professor Thornby continued. "In some of the tellings, the wicked witch is named as Carabosse. She did indeed curse Princess Katerina to sleep and caused a thicket of Boarspear Brambles to grow around the place where she was kept, but that is where the similarity ends. No one pricked their finger on any spindles, and no princes ever managed to come to her rescue. According to most sources, Princess Katerina was not a widely remarked beauty..."
Harry had never enjoyed a History of Magic lesson before, but Professor Thornby was incredibly different from Professor Binns. She told the story of the War of Darkness and included more than just the basic facts; the entire class was mesmerized, hanging on her every word. Even her description of how the Confundus Charm was developed to keep would-be curse breakers away from the castle was fascinating. Man-eating plants, the Breath Stealer curse, armies of witches and wizards clashing against each other...
A bell chimed, signaling the end of the class. Harry blinked. Had the whole two hours gone by already? At the desk next to him, Harry saw Hermione look down at her mostly blank parchment with dismay; she had been too engrossed to take notes.
The Gryffindors separated from their classmates and headed outside toward Hagrid's hut, discussing their new teacher the whole way.
"Much better than Professor Binns," said Dean. "I think that's the first time I've actually been awake for the whole class."
"Yeah," said Seamus. "She's a better teacher and she's a heck of a lot better looking…"
"What do you think of her, Harry?" asked Neville.
Harry hadn't intended to join in the conversation, as he didn't quite know how to act like Professor Thornby was as new to him as she was to everyone else. "Er… it was a great class," he said. It was a bit lame, but it would do.
When the Gryffindors arrived at Hagrid's hut, the Slytherins were already there waiting with the half-giant. Hagrid was wearing a huge leather glove on his right arm, upon which a fierce, beautiful bird was sitting. Two more just like it were sitting on a short, horizontal pole attached to the hut.
Hagrid beamed at Harry and his classmates as they came walking up. "Welcome back to Care o' Magical Creatures, ev'ryone," he said heartily. "Now, it's yer O.W.L. year, so we're goin' to be coverin' some neat stuff. Yeh'll be needin' a broad base o' knowledge fer yer tests." He raised his right arm, which was bent at a right angle, until it was parallel with the ground. "This here is a falcon."
"Ooooh, he's beautiful," cooed Parvati.
"This one's a she, s'matter o' fact," said Hagrid. "Muggles know abou' falcons, too, so yeh might think yeh don't need ter learn about 'em." He glared at Goyle, who put on a look of such wide-eyed innocence that Harry had to wonder what had transpired before the Gryffindors had showed up.
"Yeh'd be wrong ter think it," said Hagrid. "They're dead useful; been around witches 'an wizards fer centuries. They can catch things while movin' at high speed: birds, broomsticks, an' things sittin' still. Barnaby Armbrister used a falcon ter snatch an enchanted necklace off his sister's neck. She was a powerful witch an' a threat to the Dark Wizard Marbidan, so he captured her an' was keepin' her in the heart o' his fortress. He was controllin' her with the necklace, an' when it was gone… she fought from inside an' Armbrister's army fought from outside. Smashed Marbidan like an egg." Hagrid stroked the falcon's back with one huge finger. "Like I said, dead useful. Don' like owls much, though. Got ter keep these three away from the school or they'd be killed off, but not before takin' a few o' the owls out."
Hagrid pulled a small blue stone out of his pocket. "Today yer goin' ter learn how ter handle the falcons," he said. Harry and Ron exchanged excited grins; this sounded like fun. Several of the girls squealed, and the Slytherins even forgot to act disdainful.
Hagrid moved a short distance away from the students, wound up, and threw the blue stone high into the air. Harry and the others watched it rocket up into the sky but quickly lost sight of it. Hagrid lifted his right arm, and the falcon spread its wings and took off. They watched it climb higher and higher until there came a sudden hitch in its fluid motion and the bird plummeted back toward the earth. Hagrid stretched out his arm; the falcon stretched out its wings and opened the tightly clenched talons of one foot. The blue stone tumbled to the ground and the falcon landed gently on Hagrid's glove.
The students clapped appreciatively. "Fantastic birds!" said Hagrid, beaming. "All righ', s'yer turn now." He moved through them, dividing them into three groups. Two of them contained solely Gryffindors and Slytherins, while the third was a mix. "You lot stay with me," said Hagrid darkly to the mixed group, who were eyeing each other with distaste. He handed a long leather glove to a student in each of the groups. "Let yer falcon walk onto yer wrist," said Hagrid. "Don' try an' pick 'em up, they don' allow it."
Ron was the first to go from Harry's group. "It's heavy!" he exclaimed, trying to hold his arm like Hagrid had done. Malfoy had taken the other bird and was holding it with a confident air. Lavender had taken Hagrid's; she looked as awkward as Ron, eyeing her bird nervously.
Hagrid handed them each a stone of a different color. "Move apart a ways… tha's right… Malfoy, you firs'. Throw yer stone and raise yer arm, the bird knows what ter do."
Malfoy stepped forward with a smug expression on his face. He threw his stone hard, and then moved the arm that held the falcon forward. When the bird came soaring back, he stood rock-steady while it landed on his glove again.
"Very good!" said Hagrid. "I can tell yeh've done this before."
"Of course," drawled Malfoy, looking proudly around at the other students. "I've been hawking since I was eight."
"Good, yeh can help yer classmates," said Hagrid. Malfoy glared at him, but Hagrid didn't seem to notice.
They began taking turns with the falcons, sharing the long leather gloves and throwing the stones for the birds to retrieve. Harry thought he did fairly well as it wasn't all that different from handling an owl. The falcons were much lighter than Hedwig, but they had fiercer eyes and sharper talons, and Hedwig never flew back to land on Harry's arm. It was hard not to flinch when the bird came soaring back with its talons outstretched.
"That was a good lesson, wasn't it?" said Hermione as they trooped back inside for dinner. "Falcons may not be mythical creatures but they seem very practical."
"Hermione, only you could describe a bird of prey as 'practical'," said Ron.
"Owls are birds of prey," she said, "and they're very practical, wouldn't you agree?"
"He agrees!" said Harry, before Ron could answer. "Don't start again, please!"
It had been a day that equally mixed with the good and the bad. Harry had received his best Potions mark ever, History of Magic had been great, and the falcons had been fun. On the other hand, Divination had been humiliating beyond all measure and Ron and Hermione seemed determined to fight. Harry had been feeling good after Hagrid's class, but as his friends continued to snipe at one another all through dinner and the rest of the students just wouldn't stop staring at him, his mood sank lower and lower. Halfway through dinner Harry decided that he couldn't bear the scrutiny any longer; he picked up a few extra dinner rolls and walked out. Ron and Hermione were too wrapped up in their argument to notice him going. The noise level rose audibly as he slipped out the door, making Harry grit his teeth in frustration.
Harry walked alone through the empty corridors, dwelling on the prophecy again. He had no particular destination in mind, but Harry's feet somehow found their way to the Owlery. He spotted Hedwig on a perch up near the rafters, and she swooped down to rest on his shoulder.
"Hi, Hedwig," said Harry sadly, ripping up one of the dinner rolls for her to nibble on. She seemed to catch his mood and hooted dolefully. "When there's no one else, I've always got you," Harry said, stroking her back absently.
Something made Harry turn around. When he saw who was standing there he realized why; Professor Thornby had become a stronger presence in his mind as she drew nearer to the place where he was.
"Feeling low?" she said sympathetically. "Here, I brought you a sandwich – you're still hungry, aren't you?"
"Yeah," said Harry, gratefully taking the offering. "How did you know?"
"Well, I've gotten used to your being in here," she said, touching her temple with her index finger, "but if I concentrate, I can tell how you're feeling, and tonight it's depressed and hungry." She walked up to Harry and held out her arm. "May I?"
"Sure, if she'll let you," said Harry. Hedwig walked sideways from Harry's arm onto Professor Thornby's. "She's a beautiful owl," she said as she gently stroked Hedwig's feathers.
"Hagrid gave her to me," said Harry, biting into his sandwich.
"I have an owl, too. Athena," she said. "A screech owl, actually. It's a good thing she's off delivering a letter or she'd probably attack me for holding this lovely creature." Hedwig hooted with pleasure under all the pampering.
"I was wondering if you needed someone to talk to," Professor Thornby said after a moment. "Your friends seem rather focused on each other."
"They argue a lot," said Harry peevishly. "They just egg each other on and on until the smallest thing becomes a really big deal."
"Yes, I'd noticed that this summer," said Professor Thornby, sounding amused.
Harry shrugged. "They'll be back to normal tomorrow." Professor Thornby, seeing that he'd finished the sandwich, handed Hedwig back to him. There was something comforting about the owl's warm weight. He looked down at her big amber eyes, wanting to talk about what was really bothering him, but not wanting to bring it up at the same time.
"They'll stop talking about it soon," she said, as if she had read his mind.
Well, she can read my mind, sort of, thought Harry. "Not soon enough," he said bitterly. "The prophecy wasn't in the paper today but it will be tomorrow, and it'll just make things worse."
Professor Thornby sighed. "That's true," she said, "but they'll forget about it. It may take a few days but when no lightning falls from the sky, the novelty will wear off and things will go back to normal. Be strong, Harry. It will pass."
Her voice was very kind and gentle but Harry didn't answer. She was right and there was nothing to debate.
There was a long silence. "Well. Think on it, Harry," she said, turning to go, and Harry knew that she had sensed his confusion; he could feel her own determination not to make him feel any worse. "If you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me," she said. She gave Hedwig one last pat and headed for the door.
She was nearly gone from the owlery before Harry thought of what to say. "Thank you," he said.
Professor Thornby turned to look at him from the doorway and smiled beautifully. "You're welcome," she said, and disappeared down the stairs.