THE MAP OF WONDERS
Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Natasha in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. She didn't argue or complain, but she wouldn't let her throw away the shattered remnants of her Nimbus Two Thousand. She knew she was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Natasha couldn't help it; she felt as though she'd lost one of her best friends.
She was visited by many people over the next day all of them trying to cheer her up. Hagrid had sent her some flowers that looked like cabbages, but Natasha knew that it was very sweet of him. She even received a get well note from Draco through an owl with a box of chocolates. Just after lunch, she was visited by Cedric Diggory.
"Hey, Natasha. How are you feeling?", Cedric asked with a smile.
"I am feeling really good.", Natasha said smiling back. She was trying hard not to blush. "Thank you for catching me when I fell."
"Its nothing Natasha. I just helped a person who was in need.", Cedric said.
"I think I would have died if you hadn't caught me.", Natasha said.
"I doubt it. I am sure that, one of the professors would have at least slowed your descent.", Cedric said. "But then again, you would have been hurt even more."
"Anyways, congratulations on catching the snitch.", Natasha said with a smile.
"Oh, don't bother. I wanted a rematch, but Oliver said that we won fair and square.", Cedric said.
"I think that, it is a fair victory as you caught the snitch before I was attacked.", Natasha said.
"I think I got it while you were being attacked by those things.", Cedric said.
"It doesn't matter, Cedric. The match is over and the results are declared. I don't think I can change that now.", Natasha said with a weak smile.
"You are right. I am telling you this so that, you won't feel down. You are one of the best seekers of Hogwarts.", Cedric said with an encouraging smile.
"Even you are very good, Cedric.", Natasha said blushing.
"Err.. I also wanted to ask you something.", Cedric asked with a little bit of uncertainty.
"What is it, Cedric?", Natasha asked.
"I was wondering if we could hang out during the Hogsmeade weekend. At the three broomsticks or something.", Cedric asked with a blush in his face.
Natasha was thunderstruck at his words. 'Was he asking her out?', she thought. Butterflies were flying in her stomach and she felt blush coming to her cheeks. But she knew that, she couldn't go because of the problem with Black. She was overcome with sadness, as she couldn't go out with the guy for whom she had feelings.
"I would love to Cedric, but my Hogsmeade weekends are temporarily suspended due to the recent happenings related to Black.", Natasha said in a sad tone.
"You mean, they have said that you cant go?", Cedric asked.
"Yeah Cedric. I am sorry.", Natasha said.
"There is nothing to be sorry about, Natasha. But I am glad that, you said yes.", Cedric said with a smile. "I think I will have to go for now. See you.", he said and left thee hospital wing. Natasha cursed black for ruining the chances of going out with the person she loved. The Gryffindor team visited again on later, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Natasha (in a hollow, dead sort of voice) that he didn't blame her in the slightest. Ron, Hermione and Simran left Natasha's bedside only at night. She did not tell her friends about both the grim, and Cedric as she knew that it would embarrass her. Natasha still did not believe in divination and she knew Ron would panic and Hermione and Simran would scoff. The situation with Cedric was a different thing, as only Hermione had suspicion that she had feelings for Cedric and Natasha never admitted it to her, and she wanted to keep it a secret.
Then she remembered about the homework that was given by Professor Snape to be submitted on Monday. She made Hermione to bring her the books and the parchment so that she could finish it. When she was writing the essay, she noticed something unusual. Friday was a full moon and Professor Lupin seemed to have some features of a werewolf that was mentioned in the book. The other point was that, Professor was absent exactly on the full moon day. This was all a big coincidence for Natasha to ignore. But then she told herself that, she will confirm only after the next full moon.
And then there were the Dementors. Natasha felt sick and humiliated every time she thought of them. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one. No one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.
Because Natasha knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. She had heard her words, heard them over and over again during the night hours in the hospital wing while she lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the Dementors approached her, she heard the last moments of her mother's life, her attempts to protect her, Natasha, from Lord Voldemort, and Voldemort's laughter before he murdered her...Natasha dozed fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake to dwell again on her mother's voice.
It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the main school on Monday, where she was forced to think about other things, even if she had to endure Pancy's taunting. Slytherins was almost beside herself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. Parkinson was taunting Natasha every chance she got and was making Draco who was now free of bandages to join her in her taunting.
"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," said Ron as they headed toward Lupin's classroom after lunch. "Check who's in there, Sim."
Simran peered around the classroom door.
"It's okay Ron. Its Professor Lupin!", Simran said.
Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behaviour while Lupin had been ill.
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"
"We don't know anything about werewolves -"
"- two rolls of parchment!"
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.
The babble broke out again.
"Yes, but he said we were really behind -"
"- he wouldn't listen -"
Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on nearly every face.
"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay."
"Oh no," said Hermione, looking very disappointed. "I've already finished it!"
"Me too!", Natasha said with the same look as Hermione.
"You both can submit your work to me after the class.", Professor Lupin said smiling at the both of them. They just nodded at the Professor.
They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless looking.
"Lures travellers into bogs," said Professor Lupin as they took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead - people follow the light - then -"
The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.
When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, except Hermione and Natasha who went to submit their essays.
"Wait a moment, Natasha," Lupin called after she gave the essay. "I'd like a word."
Natasha doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth.
"I heard about the match," said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"
"No," said Natasha. "The tree smashed it to bits."
Lupin sighed.
"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance."
"Did you hear about the Dementors too?" said Natasha with difficulty.
Lupin looked at her quickly.
"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time...furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds...I suppose they were the reason you fell?"
"Yes. If Cedric wouldn't have been there, I am sure that I would have died.", Natasha said.
"That was a really brave thing that he did.", Lupin said nodding.
"Why? Why do the Dementors affect me like that? Am I just -?"
"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Natasha's mind. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have."
"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself - soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Natasha, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of.", he continued.
"You mean that, I am getting affected because of my past?", Natasha asked.
"Yes.", Lupin said solemnly.
"When they get near me -" Natasha stared at Lupin's desk, her throat tight. "I think I hear the last moments of my mom."
Lupin made a sudden motion with his arm as though to grip Natasha's shoulder, but thought better of it.
"Why do you think, they came during the match?" said Natasha bitterly.
"They're getting hungry," said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up...I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement...emotions running high...it was their idea of a feast."
"Azkaban must be terrible," Natasha muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.
"The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."
"I wonder how black escaped the place." Natasha said slowly.
Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.
"Yes," he said, straightening up, "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible...Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long, and the prisoners don't even have a wand when they go in there. That makes escaping the prison impossible."
"You did something in the train that made them back off." said Natasha suddenly.
"There are - certain defenses one can use," said Lupin. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."
"What defenses?" said Natasha at once. "Can you teach me? I might need it afterwards."
"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Natasha - quite the contrary..."
Lupin looked into Natasha's determined face, hesitated, then said, "Well...all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."
"What happened? Stomach issues?", Natasha asked questioningly.
"Yeah something like that.", Lupin said, but Natasha somehow knew that, he was lying.
"Ok sir. I guess I will see you later.", Natasha said and went out.
¡*¡*¡*¡*¡*¡*
What with the promise of anti-Dementor lessons from Lupin, the thought that she might never have to hear her mother's death again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, Natasha's mood took a definite upturn. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match.
Natasha saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances. Then somewhere in the beginning of the month of December, Professor Lupin was substituted by Professor Snape again. Though Natasha didn't have any DADA class on that day, she came to know that through the twins. Natasha checked the Lunar calender and found that, it was full moon again. Natasha knew that, once was just a coincidence but two times was not. So, to just make sure about her conclusions, she approached Hermione whom Natasha was sure that, would have come to the same conclusion as her. She thought of talking about it after the Arithmancy class.
The next day, just after they left the 3rd year Arithmancy class, Natasha said, "Hermione. I have a question for you."
"What is it, Natasha?", Hermione asked.
"What do you think about Professor Lupin?", Natasha asked.
"He is a really great teacher and-", Hermione started.
"What I meant was, have you noticed anything strange about him?", Natasha asked.
"Are you thinking what I am thinking?", Hermione asked.
"If you are talking about his illness, yes.", Natasha said. "As per my calculations, the disappearances are precisely during full moon days."
"Exactly, and he seems to have-", Hermione said.
"Many of the features of a werewolf.", Natasha said nodding.
"I think we have a werewolf as a Professor here, Natasha.", Hermione said. "But, what do we do?"
"I think we should just stay quiet about it. I mean, he is a really nice teacher and does not seem to be harming anyone.", Natasha said. "And as far as I know, there are no attacks by an unknown creature this year in the castle."
"So, you trust him?", Hermione asked.
"Yes. I am sure that, Dumbledore knows about this and wouldn't have hired him if he was bad.", Natasha said.
"You are right.", Hermione agreed. "Lets not tell this to Ron and Simran either unless they figure it out."
"Yeah.", Natasha said and they both walked to meet the other two.
Two weeks before the end of the term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. All four of them decided to stay in the castle, as Ron told that his mother and father was visiting some relative in wales. Hermione decided to stay just to read, and Simran again said that going to India for such a short time was not worth it.
To everyone's delight except Natasha's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of the term.
"We can do all our Christmas shopping there!", said Hermione. "Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!"
"I think I saw some clothes shops in the village. I want to go there.", Simran said excitedly. "and some things for make up."
Resigned to the fact that she would be the only third year staying behind, Natasha borrowed a copy of Which Broomstick from Wood, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes. Wood had recommended the book, so that she could buy a new broom.
On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Natasha bid good-bye to the other three, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back toward Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.
"Psst - Natasha!"
She turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at her from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.
"What are you doing?" said Natasha curiously. "How come you're not going to Hogsmeade? You guys nearly scared me to death."
"We are sorry, Natasha. We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Fred, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here. Don't worry, we are not going to do anything bad."
She nodded toward an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. Natasha followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at Natasha.
"Early Christmas present for you, Natasha,", he said.
Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. Natasha, suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, stared at it.
"What's that supposed to be? Some kind of homework planner?", Natasha asked.
"Its nothing of the sort. This, Natasha, is the secret of our success," said George, patting the parchment fondly.
"It's a wrench, giving it to you," said Fred, "but we decided last night, your need's greater than ours."
"Anyway, we know it by heart," said George. "We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."
"And what do I need with a bit of old parchment?" said Natasha.
"Never judge book by its cover, Natasha.", said Fred. "Explain, George."
Then the twins went on to tell the story about how they had got the parchment, and that it had helped them in their endeavours.
"So, you know how to work it?", Natasha said.
"Oh yes," said Fred, smirking. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school."
"You're winding me up," said Natasha, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.
"Oh, are we?" said George.
He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly, and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:
Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP
It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing were the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labeled with a name in minuscule writing. Astounded, Natasha bent over it. A labeled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs. Norris, was prowling the second floor; and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as Natasha's eyes traveled up and down the familiar corridors, she noticed something else.
This map showed a set of passages she had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead -
"Right into Hogsmeade," said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger. "There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four" - he pointed them out - "but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in - completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."
"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much."
"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," said Fred solemnly.
"Right," said George briskly. "Don't forget to wipe it after you've used it -"
"- or anyone can read it," Fred said warningly.
"Just tap it again and say, "Mischief managed!" And it'll go blank."
"So, young Natasha," said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, "mind you behave yourself."
"See you in Honeydukes," said George, winking.
They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.
Now, Natasha was totally confused now. Presently, she had a way to go to Hogsmeade and enjoy the weekend. But in the process, she would be breaking many rules.
"Who cares," she thought. She had done many rule breakings before. This rule was completely unfair and she knew that, Black attacking her in the middle of crowded place like Hogsmeade was impossible. But then something Natasha had once heard Mr. Weasley say came floating out of her memory.
Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can't see where it keeps its brain.
This map was one of those dangerous magical objects Mr. Weasley had been warning against...Aids for Magical Mischief Makers...but then, Natasha reasoned, she only wanted to use it to get into Hogsmeade, it wasn't as though she wanted to steal anything or attack anyone...and Fred and George had been using it for years without anything horrible happening...
Natasha traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with her finger. She followed the path shown by the map. There was even a codeword that she had to use that, was shown in the map. Natasha wondered if the map showed password to other houses. When she saw that she had finished her journey, she closed the map by telling the keyword and came face to face with a trapdoor. She opened the door and went up.
She was in a cellar, which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Natasha climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it - it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Natasha crept slowly toward the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now she could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.
Wondering what she ought to do, she suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.
"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out -" said a woman's voice.
A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. Natasha threw her invisibility cloak on and waited for the person to open the door so that she can get out.
Quickly and silently, Natasha dodged out from her hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, she saw an enormous backside and shiny bald head, buried in a box. Natasha reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, and found himself behind the counter of Honeydukes - she ducked, crept sideways, and then straightened up.
Honeydukes was crowded with Hogwarts students .She edged among them, looking around for her friends.
Natasha squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (UNUSUAL TASTES). Her friends were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. Natasha sneaked up behind them.
"Ugh, no, Natasha won't want one of those. She said so last time." Hermione was saying.
"I would like to have one.", Simran said.
"Why? Did you suddenly become a vampire?", Ron asked laughing.
"Nah. I just want it for fun.", Simran said and took it in her shopping bag.
"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.
"Definitely not," said Natasha removing her cloak. "Ron, you were there when I told I don't like cockroaches."
Ron nearly dropped the jar.
"Natasha!" squealed Hermione. "What are you doing here? How - how did you -?"
"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned to Apparate!"
"Ron! How many times I have to tell you-", Simran told.
"'Course I haven't," said Natasha. She dropped her voice so that none of the sixth years could hear her and told them all about the Marauder's Map.
"This is the coolest thing I have ever seen!", Simran said happily.
"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" said Ron, outraged. "I'm their brother!"
"But Natasha isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "She's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Natasha?"
"No, I'm not!" said Natasha. "Why will I do something like that?"
"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"
"Yeah, Hermione. It would be like insulting Fred and George's trust.", Simran said.
"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"
"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"
"She can't be getting in through a passage," said Natasha quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three - one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through - well - it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar and do you think it is possible for back to come into Honeydukes, without anyone noticing?"
"Yes, but - but -" Heroine seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Natasha still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade. The teachers reckon that its not safe for her here."
"I would like to see Black trying to kill Natasha in this big group of people. I am sure that, there will be some undercover security here.", Simran said.
Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.
"Are you going to report me?" Natasha asked her, grinning.
"Oh. You are absolutely right. You even have a signed form. Black cant catch you here.", Hermione said. "But we need to be careful."
"That's why I brought my cloak. Extra protection.", Natasha grinned and said.
Hogsmeade now looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.
Natasha shivered; unlike the other two, she didn't have her cloak. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.
"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack. We didn't go there last time.", Simran suggested.
"Nah. Its Christmas time, not in a mood to go to haunted places.", Natasha said.
"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"
Natasha was more than willing; the wind was fierce and her hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.
It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky.
"I'll get the drinks, shall I?" Ron asked, going slightly red.
The other made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace.
"Did any of the boys ask you guys out this time?", Natasha asked.
"Yeah they did. But I rejected them this time too.", Simran said.
"Yeah me too.", Hermione said. "Ravenclaws mostly."
"Somehow the word spread that I am not allowed to come, so no one has asked me till now.", Natasha said. "Except one.", she added with a smile.
Ron came back just then, carrying three foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.
"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.
Natasha drank deeply. A sudden breeze ruffled her hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Natasha looked over the rim of her tankard and choked.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak - Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.
In an instant, Natasha put the invisibility cloak on . Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Natasha clutched her empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward her.
Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"
The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, Natasha saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down. The four of them ordered things for themselves as they sat around the table.
"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."
"Well, thank you very much, Minister."
Natasha watched the glittering heels march away and back again. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably in her throat. Why hadn't it occurred to her that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there?
"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Madam Rosmerta's voice.
Natasha saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"
"I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta.
"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.
"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.
"You know that the Dementors have searched the whole village twice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away...It's very bad for business, Minister."
"Rosmerta, dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution... unfortunate, but there you are...I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore - he won't let them inside the castle grounds."
"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"
"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.
"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse...We all know what Black's capable of..."
"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought...I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."
"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."
"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"
"I certainly do," said Fudge.
"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"
"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"
"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here - ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"
Natasha dropped her tankard with a loud clunk. "Her father friends with a mass murderer?", she thought nervously. "How was that possible?. But then she knew that, she knew only very little about her parents.
"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course - exceptionally bright, in fact - but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers -"
"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."
"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Professor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"
"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Natasha. Natasha has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment her."
"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Worse even than that, m'dear..." Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."
"How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.
"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find - unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"
"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Madam Rosmerta.
"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself...and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."
Realization hit Natasha. She was scared of where the conversation was going.
"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.
"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said Professor McGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."
"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"
"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed -"
"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta.
"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Natasha Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it -"
Natasha let out a quiet sob. This was all too much for her to take in.
"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.
"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall.
"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Natasha from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got her outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across her forehead, an' her parents dead...an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.
"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"
"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, "Give Natasha ter me, Hagrid, I'm her godfather, I'll look after her -" Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Natasha was ter go ter her aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Natasha there. "I won't need it anymore," he says.
"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.
"But what if I'd given Natasha to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched her off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' daughter! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore..."
A long silence followed Hagrid's story. The only sound that, Ron, Hermione and Simran could hear was Natasha's sobs. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"
"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew - another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."
"Pettigrew...that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta.
"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I - how I regret that now..." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.
"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses - Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later - told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."
Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy...foolish boy...he was always hopeless at dueling...should have left it to the Ministry ..."
"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands - I'd 've ripped him limb - from - limb," Hagrid growled.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I - I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him...a heap of bloodstained robes and a few - a few fragments -"
Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.
"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."
Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.
"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"
"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man - cruel... pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them...but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored - asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him - and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."
"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said Madam Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"
"I daresay that is his - er - eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing...but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..."
There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.
"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.
One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Natasha took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.
"Natasha?", her friends stared at her as she removed her cloak. They both staring at her, lost for words.