Harry was bemused by the unexpected appearance of the headmaster in the Leaky Cauldron, who had apparently expected to meet him there, and had already asked Tom to prepare a room for him. Before Dumbledore had led him to the parlour he had requested from the barman, however, Harry remembered the promise he had made to Dudley.

"Professor, I'm sorry, but I have to call Dudley first," he said apologetically. "It won't take long, I know there's a payphone nearby—" he rushed to say. He remembered where it was, from his first trip to Diagon Alley with Hagrid two years ago.

"Ah, I see. Of course. In that case, I better follow you." Dumbledore turned towards the exit on the muggle side.

"Er, there's no need, Professor," Harry said. "I know where it is, and I'll only be a few minutes – you can have your tea—"

"It's not an inconvenience, Harry." Dumbledore smiled, to show that he did not mind. "Truly. I wouldn't want you to wander the streets of London alone at this time."

Harry, deciding he probably would not win the argument, followed along. The phone call only lasted a couple minutes. Dudley was instantly reassured when he heard that Harry had been found by the headmaster, and the boys hung up, amid Uncle Vernon shouting in the background, interrupted every now and then by Aunt Petunia's shrill exclamations. Harry looked away from Dumbledore in embarrassment. The kiosk did not have a door, and he suspected the headmaster had been able to hear the shouting.

"How is your cousin holding up?" asked Dumbledore. "Arabella – You might know her as Mrs Figg – contacted me after you had left," he explained at Harry's taken-aback expression. "She… told me some of what you had told her, to explain why you had found it necessary to leave in the middle of the night."

Harry's bewilderment lifted somewhat. Of course. He had told Mrs Figg a little of what had been happening at the Dursleys' and also where he was going. He was still surprised that the headmaster himself had come in the middle of the night to check up on him.

"He's alright. I'm sorry to have made you all worry…" he mumbled.

Dumbledore once again reassured him that it was no trouble, as they returned to the pub and he was led along a narrow passage, following Tom's lantern, into a small parlour. The barman left after lighting a fire in the grate, but they had barely sat down and exchanged greetings when he returned, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets.

"Well, Mr Potter," said Dumbledore, pouring them both tea, "it seems you've had an eventful summer."

Following this prompting, Harry explained some of what had happened, how Aunt Marge's visit had prompted Dudley to speak up on his cousin's behalf. Harry tried to explain why he had found it necessary to leave in the middle of the night a few days after that, with both Ron and Hermione abroad, even though he had not actually been thrown out of the house.

The mention of Uncle Vernon's threat to throw Harry out troubled Dumbledore, but he did not linger on that unpleasant topic, just reassured Harry that his aunt would not allow it. He then began asking Harry some subtle questions. Harry's explanation of learning about Mrs Figg being a squib after asking Hagrid about his mum's cat seemed to satisfy him. He looked a little disapproving when Harry explained how he had known about the Knight Bus – having travelled with it to London the year before.

"Didn't Snape – er, Professor Snape – tell you about that?" asked a surprised Harry. "I mean, you did find out about the Polyjuice potion…"

"He did mention something about that," admitted Dumbledore. "However, he did fail to tell me how exactly you had procured the ingredients… I have to admit, I had assumed he had been exaggerating…"

Harry, a little embarrassed faced with the disapproval, tried to downplay the journey as 'uneventful', and explained that Snape had learned about it after the fact – he did not want Snape getting in trouble because of him and then taking his anger out on Harry, after all.

Then Dumbledore hesitated. "Mr Potter. Harry. I believe you know that we find ourselves in some extraordinary circumstances at the moment. There are two very dangerous men on the loose – both of whom you encountered a mere few weeks ago, in the Chamber of Secrets—"

Harry nodded. "Pettigrew and er, Black, yes." It felt so wrong to name them together that he could not quite manage to speak their names in one breath.

"Yes, indeed. I believe you'll understand why it is not the safest time for you to be travelling across the country by yourself. Would you be willing to stay here at the Leaky Cauldron for the remainder of your summer holidays?"

"Er, sure, alright," said Harry. "I'd have to let the Dursleys know – I only said I'd be gone a few days. But I can do that when next I call Dudley—"

"Ah, that's another thing. I'm going to have to ask you to please remain in Diagon Alley and not venture into muggle London. I'm sure your owl is up to the task of delivering letters to your cousin."

Harry suppressed a grimace. Even without the current need to redact all his letters, the elder Dursleys' opinion of owl post made letters a rather undesirable option. He doubted pointing this out would make the headmaster reconsider, however.

"What's with the panic, anyway?" he said "Pettigrew's been hiding for over a decade, hasn't he? And even Black's been on the run for well over a year now. Actually, how do you even know it was really them in the Chamber of Secrets? Professor McGonagall wasn't so sure. I mean, there's things like the Polyjuice potion—"

"An excellent point, Mr Potter, though at this stage it's now quite clear that it really is them. I urge you to take the danger seriously. They are both very dangerous men. Whatever plans they may have set in motion must be important enough for them to have taken the risk of being hunted by the law after the security of being thought dead."

"But we know what Pettigrew's plan was – and stopped it. And anyway, Malfoy was the one who set everything up, and no one's concerned about him walking around freely—"

"There's also the matter of Black's plans – whatever those might be." Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully.

It had not escaped the headmaster's attention that Harry had not mentioned Sirius, then. Harry shrugged, tried to look unconcerned. "Yeah, well. Black didn't do much in the Chamber, just fought with Pettigrew for a bit, and then disappeared again. Why is he such a big deal anyway?"

"I believed you to have some knowledge of Black's history," Dumbledore replied in such a casual manner, that Harry's heart immediately began to race. "Minerva mentioned discussing him with you some time ago. There's also that letter you sent him to Azkaban. In fact, I have to say, I was rather curious about its contents when I heard about that from Madam Bones. You don't have to tell me about it, of course, if you don't wish to—"

"N-no, that's alright," mumbled Harry, feeling like he had walked into that one. He buttered a crumpet to delay answering for a moment. He had a very recent memory of explanations to awkward questions getting out of hand and revealing more than intended. He must not show his nervousness, he told himself firmly. He could tell the truth – if a simplified version of it. "It, uh, it wasn't very nice," he finally said. "Actually, it was quite a mean letter. I wrote to him what I thought of someone betraying a close friend and getting him killed." Harry tried his best not to fidget under the headmaster's scrutinising gaze.

"I see," said Dumbledore. "Let me ask this way. Do you suppose Black's response to your letter would more likely have been guilt, or anger?"

It had been something like guilt, Harry supposed, but then again, Sirius had been innocent. "I'm not sure. I didn't think it'd matter to him all that much," said Harry, once again speaking the truth. "I just… I remember being angry when I found out all he'd done, and I wanted to, uh…"

"Take it out on someone?" asked Dumbledore. "A perfectly understandable reaction, of course," he went on, seeing Harry's chagrin. "However, I believe you can see why I feel it best that you be careful. Angering someone like Black is rarely the sensible thing to do," he admonished.

Harry let his shoulders slump in a show of agreement. "I'll be careful," he said, wanting to get away from the topic as quickly as possible.

Dumbledore let it go. He finished his tea, and said his goodbyes. Before he left, however, he casually mentioned that someone from the ministry might visit him in the following days, to ask more questions about the letter Harry had sent to Sirius, much to the boy's chagrin, though Harry tried his best to hide the reaction.

~HP~

Once Tom had shown him to his room – with a brass number eleven on its door – and Harry had greeted the safely arrived Hedwig, there was one more important thing to do before he could go to sleep.

Sirius had warned him that in the magical world, the most common methods of surveillance were objects that either had eyes, or resembled mirrors. He had also said that Harry would be safe from such magic inside his hotel room, but after his recent talk with the headmaster, Harry was feeling a little paranoid. Still, after reassuring himself that the only mirror was in the bathroom, and there was nothing in the room that had eyes, he finally got his two-way mirror and called Sirius. His godfather appeared to be walking along some muggle street.

Harry began to recount his meeting with Dumbledore, still agitated about the questioning. He soon noticed, though, that Sirius was preoccupied with something else.

"Listen, Harry," said Sirius as soon as Harry had stopped talking. "I wanted to have something clarified, but I don't want to worry you—"

This, of course, had the opposite effect from the one intended.

Sirius grimaced. "Alright, here's what I've been wondering. You said that your aunt confiscated the letters you had sent to Dudley. Do you think she read them?"

"I guess…" Harry thought about it. "Oh! You mean did she read anything about you? No, I never mentioned your name in my letters – just mentioned Snuffles a couple times." He smiled, happy to have had the forethought. It had seemed like paranoia at the time, but being careful had certainly paid off—

"Well, you mightn't have, but I did…" sighed Sirius. "Remember, I also used to write to Dudley. And I always made sure to ward my letters – against falling into the wrong hands on the way to Dudley. But once they were in his hands…"

Harry felt his heart lurch, as horror spread through him. If his aunt had read those letters – if she had contacted the authorities – they could be traced back to Harry, and through him to Sirius, perhaps… It had been days since she had confiscated Dudley's letters—

"Don't look like that, Harry," said Sirius. "First of all, the main danger would be to you and your friends and cousin – for being in contact with me. There's nothing in those letters that'd help anyone find me – if you find that reassuring. I don't, to be honest. Getting you involved in my mess is the last thing I want. But you're all kids, you can say I tricked you, lied to you – that you didn't know who I was exactly—"

"Enough of that. We have to talk to Dudley. I have to call him. Dumbledore might want me to stay away from muggle London, but if you're around, I'll be fine. Could you meet me outside of the Leaky Cauldron? You can apparate without detection in the muggle parts of the country, right?"

Sirius nodded, considering. "Yes, and I'm actually very close by. Don't leave through the pub, though. There'll be enchantments put on the entrance door – possibly even an alarm." He thought about it. "You have your broom with you, don't you? Is there a window in your room?"

Harry nodded, getting up to grab his broom. "Yes, and it's actually looking out to the muggle street."

"Wait until you see me – as Padfoot – before you fly out. And make sure to leave the window open. Also," here Sirius hesitated, "if you've kept some of the letters I sent you, and don't want to destroy them, you should bring them along."

Sirius then ended the call – probably so he could shift to his animagus form. Harry hastily sorted out Sirius' letters – he had kept all of them – before staring out the window, until he saw the outline of the overgrown dog he was now so familiar with, then mounted his broom and flew.

They waited in tense silence for someone in the Dursley household to pick up the phone, knowing that Harry would have to hang up if it was not Dudley. Harry was aware of the late hour, and wondered if it might be better to try again the next day. But the only exit to the muggle world was through the pub, and Tom would see him, ask questions—

"Hello?" Dudley's careful voice came through the phone.

Harry breathed in relief, and then asked his cousin if he could talk without being overheard.

"Yes. Mum and Dad fell asleep soon after you called. They were in a better mood right away…"

"Great. Dudley, I wanted to ask about the letters Aunt Petunia took from you. I guess Sirius' letters were among them – and I don't want to worry you, but—"

Dudley snorted. "Not worry me? You think she wouldn't have had a fit if she'd seen letters from a criminal on the run? They're still hidden. I never handed them over to Dad. He wanted me to give him the letters you'd sent, so that's what I gave him—"

Harry could not help but cheer, his relief almost overwhelming. Sirius took the receiver from him, to congratulate Dudley on his quick thinking, also looking obviously relieved. Then he asked Dudley to destroy the letters. With a disappointed sigh, the blond boy agreed.

Once they had calmed down, Harry filled Dudley in on some other developments, like the fact that he would be staying in Diagon Alley for the remainder of his summer holidays, and that he would no longer be able to call on the phone – per Dumbledore's insistence.

Dudley was disappointed, but insisted that Harry should write to him – he would deal with his parents, and make sure they did not bother Hedwig. The real problem was that Harry was feeling more paranoid than ever, and doubted how much real information he could include in his letters. They were back to rehashing the same old problem of how to keep their letters private, as they had all summer.

Harry groaned. "Before, I could at least count on muggle ways to communicate when I wanted to keep things secret from the magical world – like calling Hermione on the phone. And I could send you owl post, to keep the letters secret from muggles. But now…"

"What about some kind of secret code?" suggested Dudley.

"You know, that's actually a really good idea," said Sirius, listening in, before Harry could veto it. "You've actually been doing that for a while, now. Your letters were relatively safe because you kept referring to me as Snuffles, and you kept talking about me as if Snuffles is a real dog—"

"Yeah!" said Dudley enthusiastically, when Harry passed on the idea. "We can come up with some words that mean, like, their opposite – like, 'life's boring' could mean you're investigating something—"

"I was thinking more about your cartoons," interrupted Harry, and then began to explain, among conspiratorial sniggers from Dudley and the smirking face of his godfather.

~HP~

Harry's stay in the Leaky Cauldron turned out to be very enjoyable, spent exploring Diagon Alley, visiting the shops and eating under the brightly coloured umbrellas outside the cafes. His favourite was Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, which not only served the best sundaes, but whose owner knew a great deal about witch hunts in the fourteenth century and helped Harry finish his history of magic essay.

The one unpleasant thing was that everywhere he went, he could hear the case of Sirius and Pettigrew discussed in his hearing range. Several times a day, he also saw someone reading the Daily Prophet, which invariably showed the photograph of his godfather on the front cover.

Harry got some money out of his Gringotts account so he could do his shopping as well. Remembering the way the previous year had gone, he made sure to take some extra, just in case something unexpected happened again during the school year. He even thought to exchange some of it to muggle money.

Wanting to make sure he would have money available during the year, should he need it, also meant that he was unwilling to part with more money than he had to, which made it easier to resist many of the beautiful items to be found in the shops, like a set of gold gobstones. The one thing that really tested his resolution was the newly released Firebolt broomstick, temptingly displayed on a podium inside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

There were, however, things that Harry needed to buy. New robes, more potions supplies, and school books for the new year, including Numerology and Grammatica and Unfogging the Future for two of his new elective subjects. Next to the divination books, there was another one, titled Death Omens — What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming, displaying a large black dog with bright eyes, which to Harry's great hilarity looked exactly like Padfoot. He found himself very glad to already have the book for his third elective, The Monster Book of Monsters, given to him by Hagrid for his birthday, as he watched the manager wrestle with the books locked inside a cage.

This reminded him that Hermione's birthday was not very far away, and therefore he did have an excuse to buy something else – something more exciting than school supplies – after all. He kept exploring the shops, to find something his friend would enjoy, though his feet often carried him back to Quality Quidditch Supplies, as well, where he could admire the Firebolt for a bit.

Harry ran into several of his classmates over the course of the days, come to do their shopping for the school year ahead. He met Seamus and Dean in Quality Quidditch Supplies, ogling the Firebolt, and spent several hours with them, their talk beginning with quidditch and then moving to all sorts of random and amusing topics. He ran into Neville in front of Flourish and Blotts, while he was being told off by his formidable-looking grandmother for mislaying his book list, and decided to rescue him.

Neville looked instantly grateful, while his grandmother's face took on a much more pleasant expression, too polite to berate her grandson in front of witnesses. Harry gave his own list to Neville, who would be having almost the same subjects as him, except he had chosen ancient runes instead of arithmancy. Harry was surprised to hear this, knowing from Hermione how much memorisation would be required for the class. The way Neville cringed when his grandmother pushed the ancient runes textbook in his hand, made Harry think that the choice had not been entirely the boy's.

This was not the last time Harry ran into Neville. The other boy found him again a few days later, while he was sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's, slurping a free sundae, courtesy of the owner. As far as Harry could tell, Neville had no real business being there, and when asked directly, the round-faced boy blushed and admitted that he had come to keep Harry company, after finding out that Harry was staying at the Leaky Cauldron by himself. He had brought his own summer homework along, to have something to talk about, because Harry had mentioned still editing his history essay.

Harry did not have the heart to admit that he was already finished with all his homework. Instead, he bought Neville a sundae of his own, and went to his room to get his essays. Neville did not want to let Harry see his potions and transfiguration essays, though he did accept Harry's offer to have a look at his.

"You're using a muggle book as reference in Snape's essay?" Neville asked with a kind of fascinated horror, after having a look.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, looking smug. He, himself, was admiring the very detailed herbology essay of the other boy. Harry's own was regrettably lacking in comparison – Sirius had been no help with that one. Neville's charms essay was also alright – and Harry berated himself for being surprised by that. Then he reached the astronomy homework, and found his worst assumptions outdone. Sirius would have cried, seeing Neville's charts.

The other boy blushed, noticing Harry's reaction, and hastily hid his astronomy homework, but not without a longing look at Harry's enviably neat charts.

"You were working on the history essay, weren't you? Let's have a look at that," Neville said hastily.

Harry agreed, and they exchanged their essays.

"Oh, right. Of course. Squibs," Neville said after some reading. "Why didn't I think of that? Do you mind if I add that to my essay?"

"Er, no. Go ahead. You can copy whatever you want." Harry finished the section he had been reading. He had thought his essay was pretty good, after all the help he had received from Mrs Figg and Florean Fortescue, but once again he had to readjust his opinion of Neville's work. "Actually, I really like what you wrote about muggle baiting," he said. "Can I add that to my essay?"

"Oh, s-sure," said Neville, blushing happily at the unexpected praise. "Yeah, I thought what Wendelin the Weird was doing would be considered muggle baiting in modern times…"

Harry nodded. "Yes. Just as you said, she tended to do things that made muggles want to burn her – maybe not for good reasons, but she did do it on purpose. She always came away unhurt, but the muggles were reminded that magic was real, which led to more witch hunts, and the next time they might've caught a muggle – who wouldn't be able to do a flame-freezing charm…" He began adding another paragraph to his essay.

When Harry looked back up, Fortescue was grinning at them, having heard their discussion. He actually sat at their table, to tell them more hair-raising tales from history. In such company, the hours flew by most pleasantly for Harry.

The most unpleasant moment during his stay at the Leaky Cauldron came one late evening, a few days before the end of the holidays, when he was visited by the ministry officials, as promised. Tom ushered him into a private parlour again, where he was met with the sight of three mismatched men. One, Mr Weasley, was a very welcome sight. Of the other two, Harry recognised one – the portly little man in a pinstriped cloak was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic. The third man was soon introduced to him as Auror Dawlish. He was a tough-looking wizard with very short, wiry, grey hair, who had little in common with the other auror Harry had met at Hogwarts – the cheerful, colourful witch called Tonks.

Harry sat there and listened, unimpressed, as Fudge pretended this would be a routine questioning – as if the minister himself was needed for a routine question posed to a child. Dawlish, on the other hand, did his best to make sure everyone there knew he was the principal investigator of that very important case of Black's escape from Azkaban. Mr Weasley, to his credit, did a fair job of keeping the other two men from trying to intimidate Harry.

They asked about the letter he had sent to Sirius, and Harry told them the exact same thing he had told Dumbledore. They also explained to him that it was not common knowledge that Harry had sent that letter, and that they wanted to keep it that way. Harry had no objections to that – everyone he was likely to tell about it already knew.

"Have you had any more contact with Black since then?" Dawlish then had the gall to ask.

"Why would I have contact with him?" Harry shot back, doing his best to sound bewildered.

The other two men shot the auror quelling looks, until he cleared his throat and let go of that line of questioning. Finally, they got up, ready to leave. Before he departed, Fudge berated Harry about his carelessness, about travelling by himself across the country.

Harry, wanting to check a suspicion more than anything, brought up his permission form for the Hogsmeade weekends. "I left home before my aunt and uncle had signed it. And then I wasn't supposed to return home, so it's still unsigned. D'you think you could—?" he asked the minister.

Fudge looked uncomfortable. "Ah," he said. "No, no, I'm very sorry, Harry, but as I'm not your parent or guardian—"

"But I wasn't able to return to my guardians' home – and you're the Minister for Magic," said Harry. "If you gave me permission…"

"No, I'm sorry, Harry, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it's best if you don't… yes… well, we'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry."

It was best if he did not visit Hogsmeade, was it? Harry thought angrily. He was now quite sure his suspicion had been right – he was thought to be in danger from Sirius, of all the crazy ideas.

With a smile and shake of Harry's hand, Fudge left, the auror in tow. Mr Weasley managed to tell Harry that his family would be visiting Diagon Alley on the last day of holidays, before he followed them.

~HP~

Harry woke on the last day of holidays, and was buzzing with anticipation before he had finished breakfast. There was so much he wanted to tell his best friends, and at least he would be seeing Ron very soon. He stayed in the Leaky Cauldron, in the pub area, staring at the fireplace, so he would see the Weasleys as soon as they arrived. He saw lots of people come and go – several more of his classmates, even. He was still busy staring at the fireplace, when he heard someone yell his name from the opposite side of the pub, the entrance from the muggle street.

"Harry! HARRY!"

He turned, and there was Hermione, already running towards him. Her parents were following at a slower pace, carrying her luggage. Harry got up, returned his friend's hug, then greeted her parents. They already knew why he was staying at the pub – Mr Weasley had told Ron, who had written to Hermione. Harry reassured the concerned-looking Grangers that he was alright, and so was Dudley. They asked a fair amount of detail about his cousin's fight with his parents, but Harry did not mind. The Grangers had been so helpful all summer that he felt comfortable telling them about his family.

They also expressed their disappointment at Harry not having a signed Hogsmeade form, and Harry realised that they did not fully understand the panic that had taken over the wizarding world because of Sirius and Pettigrew, and how everyone's focus was once again on Harry and his safety.

The Weasleys arrived not too long after, and Harry watched as one redhead after another stepped through the fireplace. Hermione's parents then said their goodbyes, leaving their daughter in the Weasleys' care. After Harry had greeted the entire family, he and his two best friends left the pub, to wander along Diagon Alley.

Finally, Harry could tell his friends all that had happened to him, without having to redact every mention of Sirius. They listened with rapt attention as he told them about the near-disaster with Sirius' letters, about Dumbledore's questioning, the minister's questioning. He also told them what his godfather had taught him about surveillance spells, and about protective spells.

Next, it was Ron's turn to share some of what the twins had managed to find out from Bill – as well as the agreement he had come to with Fred and George. His friends were suitably impressed, and Hermione added her share of knowledge on the topic, which she had acquired over the summer.

With the more serious topics out of the way, their talk switched to more pleasant things. While Ron and Hermione shopped for their school supplies, they talked about Ron's trip to Egypt, Hermione's trip to France, Harry's meetings with Mrs Figg and Neville.

The assistant at Flourish and Blotts nearly cried when they said they wanted two copies of The Monster Book of Monsters, but he recovered his mood somewhat when he found out just how many books Hermione would be buying. Harry made sure to point the image of the grim on the divination book cover out to them, and they all had a good laugh, much to the assistant's disapproval, who clearly did not think the grim was a laughing matter.

Finally, they went to the Magical Menagerie, so Hermione could buy herself an early birthday present from the money her parents had given her. Ron, who no longer had a pet – not that he was in any way sorry to be rid of Scabbers – examined the cages with some interest.

"Mum asked me if I wanted another pet. She knows now that I lost my wand when er, Scabbers, er, ran away." He rolled his eyes. "I already have a new wand, but we still have some money from the prize draw, so…"

They examined the cages full of various magical and non-magical animals, while Hermione tried to make up her mind. Then Ron spotted a vast cage on the counter, full of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails. He approached the cage after the customer being served had left. The witch behind the counter, seeing his interest, began praising the rats' longevity and skill, and the rats promptly started skipping again. Seeing Ron's dubious expression, she opened the cage, and handed him one of the rats to admire.

Ron turned to ask Harry what he thought of the idea, when something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at the rat in his hands.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but the rat jumped between her hands and ran across the room, towards the cages along the walls.

It took the boys a fair few minutes to help catch the rat and put him back in his cage.

"Annoying little blighter!" said Ron. "All he's good for is showing off."

Hermione, on the other hand, was cradling the enormous ginger monstrosity that had attacked the rat. "He's gorgeous, isn't he?" she asked the disbelieving boys, and would not be persuaded away from buying him.

~HP~

That night, the entire Weasley family and Hermione were also staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Ron and Percy, who were staying in the room next to Harry's, started shouting just as Harry had finished packing – Percy was accusing Ron of mislaying his new head boy badge. Ron, knowing that Harry probably wanted to call Sirius without being overheard, suggested to his brother they should see if the badge had been left in the bar.

Percy would not hear of it, insisting that he and Ron search their room instead. So Harry volunteered to go instead.

He had almost reached the passage to the bar when he heard Mr and Mrs Weasley's angry voices coming from the parlour. He went to investigate when he heard his name mentioned, and found his worst suspicions verified.

Apparently, everyone at the ministry was convinced that Sirius was out for revenge against Harry – for the letter he had written, but more importantly for leading to Voldemort's downfall. This, Fudge did not want Harry to know, and Mrs Weasley was apparently in agreement with him, while Mr Weasley at least argued that Harry should be told – so that he would not 'wander off' by himself and get himself in danger. Harry's letter to Sirius – something that nearly panicked Mrs Weasley when she heard about it – as well as Sirius' supposed plans for revenge were kept secret from the public, while every ministry employee – including Mr Weasley – had been pulled off their regular jobs to help capture Sirius.

Harry could barely suppress his anger by that point. Mr Weasley had barely even mentioned Pettigrew. The only positive thing was that according to him, the ministry was no closer to capturing Sirius than they had been when they had found out he was alive.

Harry listened at the door until he heard chairs move, and then hurried down to the deserted bar. On his way back upstairs, he ran into Fred and George, crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listened to Percy dismantling his and Ron's room in search of his badge.

"We've got it," Fred whispered to Harry. "We've been improving it."

The badge now read Bighead Boy.

Harry forced a laugh, before heading back upstairs, to shut himself in his room. He needed to think.