I felt like updating. Here y'all go :)
Chapter 7
The Incident
The Gryffindors were sent back to the Great Hall. Ten minutes after they had seated themselves at their table, the Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins joined them, all looking extremely confused.
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"
He gave a casual wave of his wand; the long tables flew to the edges of the hall against the walls. Another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.
The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Hermione, and Rachel; they seized four sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.
"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.
"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.
"It's very lucky he picked tonight," Rachel said, climbing fully dressed into her sleeping bag. She propped herself on her elbows to talk, and the other three did the same. "The one night we weren't in the tower…"
"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."
Hermione and Rachel shuddered.
All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"
"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."
"Disguised himself, probably," said the Hufflepuff girl Zaine had been with in The Three Broomsticks.
"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.
"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to Harry, Ron, and Rachel.
"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"
"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered…"
"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"
At once, all the candles went out. The only light they saw was from the silvery ghosts, who drifted about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which was scattered with stars like the sky outside.
Once every hour, a door would open and a teacher would come to check if everything was quiet. When many students had finally fallen asleep, around three in the morning, Professor Dumbledore came in, looking around for Percy. He was nearby, telling people off for talking. Rachel, like Harry, Ron, and Hermione, quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew closer.
"Any sign of him, Professor?" Percy whispered.
"No. All well here?"
"Everything under control, sir."
"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."
"And the Fat Lady, sir?"
"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."
The door of the hall creaked open again, and footsteps followed.
"Headmaster?" Rachel recognized Snape's voice and would've scowled. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."
"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"
"All searched…"
"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."
"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.
Rachel peered through her eyelashes up at Percy and Professors Snape and Dumbledore, raising her head just a tiny bit to listen better. She could see the shadows on Dumbledore's face, Snape's angry profile, and Percy's face, which was rapt with attention.
"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."
"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before—ah—the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.
"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and Rachel thought she heard something like a warning in his voice.
"It seems—almost impossible—that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed—"
"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore sharply. "I must go down to the dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."
"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.
"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster."
Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face; then he too left.
Rachel glanced at Ron and Hermione over Harry's shoulder.
"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.
For the next few days, all Rachel heard about was Sirius Black. There were wild theories about how he had entered the castle; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent a long time in their next Herbology class talking about how Black could turn into a flowering shrub. Some Ravenclaws were whispering that Black knew of a secret entrance in Dumbledore's office and charmed himself to look like a stone statue. Rachel didn't believe any of it.
"Seriously," she snarled at a group of second-year Ravenclaws the day following the attack, when she was in the library with Zaine's sister Amy, trying to complete some homework, "Dumbledore wouldn't fall for anything like that! That's complete rubbish!"
Unfortunately, the Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Rachel wasn't too happy with it; Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.
"He's a complete lunatic," said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"
"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."
Rachel noticed that Harry was under constant watch; teachers always looked for him in crowds and kept an eye on him when walking, and Percy followed him around the castle.
One afternoon, Harry came into the common room, looking very annoyed. Ron and Hermione had gone off to look for a book in the library on Animagi (Ron struggled to understand all of it still and Hermione offered to help) and Rachel was sitting alone on the couch, stitching up a rip in one of her old sweaters that she liked.
"Everything okay?" said Rachel when Harry sat down beside her, huffing.
"Professor McGonagall wanted to call off the evening practices, she thought I was too exposed with only my teammates."
"But the Quidditch Match!" Rachel exclaimed.
"Madam Hooch'll be supervising," said Harry sourly.
"At least practices won't be canceled," said Rachel.
"Yeah. How's Alexis?"
"Doing fine," said Rachel, grinning as she thought about her younger sister. "Mum wrote that she keeps asking for "Waa-wul," which we're assuming is me, but I'm not home, obviously."
"You can go and see her during Christmas break," said Harry.
"Yeah, maybe I will."
The day before the Quidditch match, on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry was held back by Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch team captain. Rachel went on with Ron and Hermione, excited about the upcoming lesson, but when they walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they were surprised to see Snape standing at the front of the classroom.
"Sit," Snape said with a cold voice. Rachel looked at Ron and Hermione and they slowly sank into their seats.
Once the rest of the class filed in, Lukas bravely rose his hand in the front row.
"Sir," he said, "where is Professor Lupin?"
"He has asked me to take today's class since he speaks of being too ill to teach today," said Snape, and Rachel didn't like the tone of his voice. He sat down behind the teacher's desk and continued, "Now, Professor Lupin—"
The door opened and Harry rushed in, looking rather annoyed (Rachel wondered if he ever looked anything other than annoyed lately).
"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I—"
Snape looked up from the teacher's desk and his mouth curled into a nasty smile.
"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."
Harry kept standing and Rachel groaned silently.
"Where's Professor Lupin?" Harry said.
"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"
But Harry didn't sit down.
"What's wrong with him?"
Snape's black eyes glittered.
"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it were. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."
Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.
"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"
"Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start—"
"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."
"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class, Rachel's voice being one of the loudest. She loved Defense Against the Dark Arts now that they had a decent teacher. Snape looked more menacing than ever.
"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you—I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss—"
He flicked through the textbook to the very last chapter. Rachel had barely even skimmed the last few chapters.
"—werewolves," said Snape.
"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks—"
"Miss Granger," said Snape in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"
Rachel scowled, yet opened her book to the last chapter.
"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.
It was dead quiet in the classroom, and Hermione raised her hand.
"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"
Rachel couldn't help herself.
"We told you," she snapped, "we haven't gotten to werewolves yet, we would start—"
"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…"
"Please, sir," said Hermione, her hand still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf—"
"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."
Hermione's face flushed red, she put down her hand, and stared at the floor with teary eyes. Rachel glared at Snape, seething with anger, and she knew that if she spoke out she would be in trouble. Ron and Lukas, however, seemed to completely forget this.
"You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?" said Ron loudly, at the same time as Lukas said, "You're just being terrible! She answered your question even after you ignored her!"
Rachel huffed, knowing her best friend and her brother had gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron and Lukas, who sat with each other for this class, slowly.
The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.
"Detention, Weasley and Haney," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Lukas'. His eyes flickered to Ron. "And if I ever hear you two criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."
No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.
"Very poorly explained… That is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three…"
When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.
"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, Haney, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."
Harry, Hermione, and Rachel left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.
"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said to Hermione and Rachel. "Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the boggart?"
"I don't know," said Hermione pensively. "But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon…"
"He better, I won't survive if Snape teaches tomorrow, too," said Rachel.
Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.
"D'you know what that—" (he called Snape something that made Hermione say "Ron!") "—is making us do? Lukas and I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"
That evening, when Hermione had already gone to bed, Rachel had decided to get started on Snape's essay. She was the last one in the third year girls' dormitory to still be awake, fretting with her quill, reading the first few sentences of her textbook to refresh her memory again before beginning to write:
In the day before or after the full moon, the werewolf may look of pallor or ill health. The Wolfsbane potion will help werewolves with their symptoms and it will allow them to keep their human mind when they have transformed.
Rachel paused, squinting down at what she wrote. She recalled Professor Lupin looking ill the day before, and he was too ill to teach that day's class, and Snape, the Potions Master, had brewed him up something on Halloween…
She paused, shaking her head. She was just imagining things because of how late it was, but it still felt a bit off. Rachel closed her book and went to bed, thinking about what she'd just read.
The next day, Rachel was up and out of bed before Hermione was even awake, rushing down to the common room. She went up the stairs to the boys' dormitories and rushed into the third year's dormitory, finding Lukas laying in the bed beside Harry's empty bed and shaking him awake.
"Whut—"
"Can we talk?" said Rachel.
Lukas opened his eyes and grabbed around for his glasses before finding them and shoving them on his face, looking at Rachel. He sighed at her expression and got up, put on his bathrobe, stuck his wand into his pocket, and then followed her into the common room and through the portrait hole.
"Ha! Stand your ground and fight!" yelled Sir Cadogan to their backs.
"Shut it," snapped Rachel. She dragged Lukas into an empty corridor that led only to an old broom closet and a classroom that wasn't used, checking to make sure there were no teachers around before turning to Lukas, who looked very confused and concerned.
"Roo, you're making absolutely no sense—"
"I think Professor Lupin is hiding something," said Rachel.
Lukas looked at her with raised eyebrows, now wide awake.
"Come again?"
"I think Professor Lupin is hiding something," Rachel repeated. "I was starting Snape's essay on werewolves and I realized his strange behaviour, and it doesn't sit right..."
"Rachel, calm down," said Lukas.
Rachel stopped pacing.
"Did you happen to see Professor Lupin in the hospital wing yesterday while you served detention?"
"No—"
"So he was too ill to teach but he didn't go to the hospital wing. Isn't that odd?" said Rachel. "And Snape brought him a potion, Harry said, and Lupin drank it all..."
"Rachel," said Lukas, scratching his head, "you're not saying that you think Professor Lupin is a werewolf, are you?
"What? No! Of course not!" snapped Rachel. "Dumbledore wouldn't hire a werewolf to teach us, it's probably some sort of illness... Maybe a Muggle illness? Do you think he's got Muggle parents?"
"I don't know, and it's rude if you ask," said Lukas. "Just don't worry about it, go poking around in his business, he's a great teacher, I'd hate to lose him at the end of the year. I think he's taught us more in two months than Quirrell or Lockhart could teach us in ten years."
Rachel giggled.
"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get dressed, and we can go down for breakfast," said Lukas. "I'm starving, and I could do with some coffee."
"Since when do you drink coffee?"
"Dad let me have some over the summer," said Lukas, shrugging. "It's not that bad."
"It's bitter, is what it is," said Rachel, scrunching her nose in disgust.
"Add some milk and some sugar and it'll get better," Lukas said as he threw his arm around Rachel's shoulders. As they passed a window, they caught sight of the stormy weather.
"Well," said Lukas, "you better go and get an extra coat."
The rain had become worse when Rachel and Lukas hurried outside, running underneath an old jacket Lukas held over their heads, being a head taller than Rachel. They joined Ron and Hermione, who were already making their way onto the stands, carrying a large umbrella. They squished together underneath the umbrella and found a spot that was partly out of the strong wind. Ron had to hold on to the umbrella very tight so it wouldn't blow away.
Thunder rolled as the two teams walked onto the field; they were seven blurs of red and seven blurs of canary-yellow for Rachel. Their cheers were drowned out by the thunder.
A red blur and a yellow blur walked forward and shook hands (Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory, the team captains, Rachel assumed) and then they mounted their brooms and went off.
It was terribly hard to see anything or hear Lee Jordan's commentary. Rachel followed the red blurs with her eyes, but lost them a couple of times due to the thick rain that hammered down. More thunder roared as the sky was getting darker.
When lightning flashed, Rachel could hear the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle very faintly. She squinted at the field and saw the two teams reach the ground and huddle together under large umbrellas.
"Anybody know the score?" Ron shouted over the roar of more thunder.
"I think we're fifty points up!" Lukas shouted back. "Hermione, where are you going?"
"Just wait here!" Hermione said, disappearing into the crowd.
"Where is she going?" said Rachel.
A few minutes later, Hermione returned, beaming.
"I cast a water-repellant charm on Harry's glasses—he'll be able to see better now!"
"Please, do mine!" said Lukas, shoving his own glasses into Hermione's hand.
Hermione took out her wand and tapped Lukas' glasses as she said, "Impervius!"
"Brilliant!" said Lukas when he put his glasses back on.
The game started again, and five minutes later, thunder clapped and forked lighting lit up the pitch. Rachel used the light to squint up at where she saw Harry, flying above the pitch in the same spot until Wood called his name.
"Look at Diggory!" yelled Lukas, pointing behind Harry; Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, was rushing up the field.
"He's seen the Snitch!" yelped Rachel, watching as Harry threw himself flat against his broom and rushed toward where Diggory was going.
Rachel shivered, a wave of cold sweeping over her, inside her, and she realized the stadium had become suddenly quiet. Not even the wind roared.
Rachel looked around frantically, finally looking at the field below, and she gasped; a hundred of dementors, maybe even more, were looking at Harry.
"HARRY!" Hermione screeched.
Rachel looked back up at the sky, shaking off the coldness and the numb feeling she'd had, just in time to watch as Harry fell off his broom. Just before he hit the ground, Professor Dumbledore appeared on the field, waving his wand to slow down Harry before he finally lay on the grass. With the next wave of his wand, he shot the same silvery stuff Professor Lupin had used on the train at the dementors, and they left.
"Hufflepuff won, Diggory caught the Snitch," said Lukas sadly, watching as Cedric Diggory lowered to the ground and waddled toward Madam Hooch through the mud. He was holding the Snitch tightly in his hand.
Professor Dumbledore magicked Harry on a stretched and Ron, Hermione, Rachel, and Lukas hurried off the stands, hearing Professor Dumbledore rage at the dementors as they passed him. They also heard many students worry that Harry was dead.
When they entered the hospital wing, Harry was already there, being treated by the matron, Madam Pomfrey. She left as the team traipsed inside, spreading mud everywhere as they were splattered with it from head to toe.
"Is he all right?" asked Angelina Johnson, one of the Chasers on the team.
"He's just passed out still," said Hermione shakily, watching Harry's pale form. "Madam Pomfrey said he'd wake up soon."
"What happened out there?" said George Weasley. "I barely caught the tail-end of it all."
"Dementors," said Lukas. "Hundreds of them. On the train, Harry passed out when that dementor came round to our compartment, it probably happened again…"
There were a few moments of silence where they all looked at Harry, wondering when he'd wake up.
"How far did he fall, even?" said Alicia Spinnet.
"Fifty feet," said Fred Weasley, looking very white underneath the mud.
Hermione made a small squeaking noise and Rachel threw an arm over her shoulders to comfort her; both girls' eyes were bloodshot. Harry looked dead on the bed.
The door to the hospital wing opened again; Professor Flitwick walked into the ward, a bag in his hands. He neared the bed where the Gryffindors were gathered around and carefully handed the bag to Rachel and Hermione.
"What is this, Professor?" said Rachel, peering inside the bag.
"Potter's Nimbus," said Professor Flitwick. "It hit the Whomping Willow, not much left of it, I'm afraid…"
Professor Flitwick left. Rachel lowered the bag to her feet slowly, not daring to look inside again.
"He doesn't even look like he fell fifty feet," said Katie Bell.
"Lucky the ground was so soft," said Ron.
"I thought he was dead for sure," Alicia added.
"But he didn't even break his glasses," Rachel said weakly, grinning at Hermione.
"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."
Harry's eyes snapped open. Relief rushed through Rachel.
"Harry!" said Fred. "How're you feeling?"
"What happened?"
Harry sat up so suddenly that everybody gased.
"You fell off," said Fred. "Must've been—what—fifty feet?"
"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.
Hermione made another small, squeaky noise.
"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we doing a replay?"
No one said anything. Rachel looked at her knees, trying her best to hold back tears.
"We didn't—lose?"
"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it."
"Where is Wood?" said Harry, looking around.
"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."
Harry put his face to his knees and gripped at his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.
"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."
"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.
"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points, right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"
"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.
"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"
"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"
"It all depends on the points—a margin of a hundred either way—"
Harry didn't say a word.
After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.
"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."
The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron, Hermione, Rachel, and Lukas moved nearer to Harry's bed.
"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away… He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him—"
"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," said Rachel. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…"
Rachel's voice faded. Harry looked at her anxious face and then looked away.
"Did someone get my Nimbus?"
Ron, Hermione, and Lukas looked quickly at each other while Rachel cast her eyes out the window, where rain was still hammering against the glass.
"Er—"
"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.
"Well… when you fell off, it got blown away," said Hermione hesitantly.
"And?"
"And it hit—it hit—oh, Harry—it hit the Whomping Willow," said Rachel, trying to keep herself from crying again.
"And?" Harry said.
"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It—it doesn't like being hit."
"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Lukas in a very small voice.
"It, uh… I'm so sorry, Harry," said Rachel, voice breaking as she reached for the bag and turned it upside down, and she watched as a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig fell onto the bed.