A SURPRISE PRESENT
Natasha didn't have a very clear idea of how she had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All she knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that she hardly noticed what she was doing, because Her head was still pounding with the conversation she had just heard. The whole thing was just overwhelming. Hearing how exactly her parents had died, and who their friends were.
Why had nobody ever told her? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Cornelius Fudge...why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Natasha's parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them?
Ron, Simran and Hermione watched Natasha nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by them. When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Natasha, who didn't want Fred and George asking her whether she'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight for Her bedside cabinet. She pushed books aside and quickly found what she was looking for - the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given her two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of Her mother and father. She sat down on Her bed, drew the hangings around her, and started turning the pages, searching, until ...
She stopped on a picture of Her parents' wedding day. There was his father waving up at her, beaming, the untidy black hair Natasha had inherited standing up in all directions. There was her mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with her dad. And there...that must be him. Their best man...Natasha had never given him a thought before.
If she hadn't known it was the same person, she would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?
But the Dementors don't affect him, Natasha thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face. He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close. He must just be thinking about how Voldemort can return, she thought. Just like his other followers.
Natasha slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into her cabinet, took off her robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding her from view. She didn't want to talk to anyone, not even her friends. She knew that, even Cedric coming and kissing also will not do her any good. The whole situation was the most depressing thing that she had ever experienced.
The dormitory door opened.
"Natasha?", said Simran's voice uncertainly. "Are you Ok?"
"I think she is asleep.", Natasha heard Hermione say.
Natasha lay still, pretending to be asleep. She heard Simran leave again, and rolled over on her back, her eyes wide open.
A hatred such as she had never known before was coursing through Natasha like poison. She could see Black laughing at her through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over her eyes. She watched, as though somebody was playing her a piece of film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew into a thousand pieces. She could hear a low, excited mutter. "It has happened, My Lord...the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper" and then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that Natasha heard inside her head whenever the Dementors drew near.
When Simran and Hermione reached the common room, Ron came to them and asked. "Is she OK?"
"I don't know. I think she fell asleep.", Hermione said. "I seriously can't blame her though, this has been a really bad day for her."
"Yeah. I really don't understand why no one told her about this. She had a right to know.", Simran said.
"I am sure that, they will have some good reason", Ron said.
"What do you think we should do now?", Hermione asked.
"You both go and check her out again. I don't think she is actually sleeping.", Ron said.
"It would be rude, if she is actually sleeping.", Simran said with a sad look.
"Just check whether she is sleeping, if not talk to her, else just leave her.", Ron said and left out a big yawn. "I think I will go to sleep now. It has been a really tiring day.". He said and went to his dormitory.
Simran and Hermione nodded at each other, and climbed the stairs to their dormitory. They went near Natasha and saw that she was fast asleep. Simran and Hermione just nodded at each other and went to sleep.
When both of them woke up the next day morning, they found that, Natasha was still asleep in her bed. They saw that, the other girls were getting ready to go home. Parvati was putting her clothes in her bag, and Lavender was putting some make up. The other girls seemed to have already gone downstairs.
"What happened to Natasha? She did not even speak a word yesterday.", Lavender asked.
"She was not feeling well yesterday night. She told she will go to the hospital wing, if she was not well even in the morning.", Simran said.
"Tell her bye, for us.", Parvati said as she took her bag and went downstairs.
By the time, the two of them had got ready, the students had already gone to board the train. They found that, Natasha was still sleeping, they decided that they will make her sleep as much as she wanted and joined Ron to go for breakfast.
"Where is Natasha?", Ron asked.
"She is still sleeping. Didn't want to wake her up.", Simran said after she opened the portrait hole.
"Did you talk to her last night?", Ron asked anxiously.
"Nope.", Hermione said.
"I am really worried about how she is handling this. I hope that, she won't think of even considering something awful", Ron said.
They then reached the great hall, and started to eat the breakfast. They were eating slowly, as there was no classes and there was so much to choose from. Then they went back to the common room and sat. After sometime, Natasha came out of the dormitory.
"Natasha, you - you look terrible."
Natasha hadn't gotten awake until daybreak. She had slept through all the commotion of the other girls going out. She had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ron and Simran, who were eating some chocolates, and Hermione, who had spread her homework over three tables.
"Where is everyone?" said Natasha.
"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Natasha closely.
"It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute.", Hermione said.
"Are you not feeling well?", Simran asked.
Natasha just ignored them and slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.
"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into her face.
"I'm fine," said Natasha.
"Natasha, listen," said Simran, exchanging a look with Ron, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."
"Like what?" said Natasha.
"Like trying to go after Black," said Ron sharply.
Natasha just looked at her three friends blankly. They don't understand how she's feeling, she thought to herself.
"You won't, will you, Natasha?" said Hermione.
"Because Black's not worth dying for," said Ron.
"Yeah, he doesn't deserve death. He needs more than that.", Simran said.
"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" , the other three shook their looking apprehensive. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her -"
"There's nothing you can do!" said Hermione, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and - and serve him right!"
"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."
"But that doesn't mean you have to go after him. There are proper wizards for that.", Simran said. "That is if you are seriously thinking of killing him."
"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicky voice. "Natasha doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Natasha?"
Again, Natasha didn't answer. She didn't know what she wanted to do. All she knew was that the idea of doing nothing, while Black was at liberty, was almost more than she could stand.
"Pansy knows," she said abruptly. "Remember what she said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself...I'd want revenge.'"
"You're going to take Parkinson's advice instead of ours?" said Ron furiously. "Listen...you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me - the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Natasha, and he's dangerous -"
"Parkinson'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. She just hoping you'll get yourself killed.". Simran said. "Its not worth it.'
"Natasha, please," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants...Oh, Natasha, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"
"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Natasha shortly.
There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.
"Look," said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's - let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"
"Yeah, let's go," said Natasha, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"
"This will certainly cheer Natasha up, I think.", Simran said to Hermione who just nodded.
So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole, down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.
They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.
Ron knocked, but there was no answer.
"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.
Ron had his ear to the door.
"There's a weird noise," he said. "Listen - is that Fang?"
Simran and Hermione put their ears to the door too, while Natasha tried to go to the windows. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.
"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.
"Hagrid!" called Natasha, calling in through a window which was closed using curtains . "Hagrid, are you in there?"
There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest. Natasha had never seen Hagrid so depressed in her life. The only time she had seen him sad, was when he had to leave Norbert.
"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Natasha's neck.
Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Simran, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Natasha moved from the window and followed them inside. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.
"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione, aghast.
Natasha spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.
"What's this, Hagrid?", asked Simran who had spotted the same thing.
Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Natasha, who picked it up and read aloud:
Dear Mr. Hagrid,
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident.
"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Natasha to read on.
However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.
Yours in fellowship ...
There followed a list of the school governors.
"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."
"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"
A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Natasha, Ron, and Hermione whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.
"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."
The four of them just looked at one another. They had never seen eye to eye with Hagrid about what he called 'interesting creatures' and other people called 'terrifying monsters.' On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he was positively cute.
"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."
"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! Ad if I lose the case, Buckbeak -"
"Let him do his best. I am 100% sure that, we have a strong case here.", Simran said confidentally. "Malfoy did not even listen to your instructions and just insulted Buckbeak."
Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.
"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?", said Natasha.
"He's done more'n enough fer me already," groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around."
Natasha didn't say anything about black as she saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.
"Listen, Hagrid," she said, "you can't give up. Hermione's and Simran are right, You just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses -"
"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," said Hermione thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."
Hagrid howled still more loudly. Natasha and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.
"Er - shall I make a cup of tea?", said Ron.
Natasha stared at him.
"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.
"I will join you too.", Simran said and then both of them started working on making tea while Natasha and Hermione tried to calm Hagrid down.
At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together..."
Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.
"I've not bin meself lately," said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes -"
"We do like them!" lied Hermione at once.
"Can't wait to meet more interesting creatures!", Simran said excitedly/
"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er - how are the flobberworms?"
"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce."
"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching.
"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban -"
He fell silent, gulping his tea. They had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before. After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?". Natasha thought that, this was an awful question to ask.
"Yeh've no idea," said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind...the day I got expelled from Hogwarts...day me dad died...day I had ter let Norbert go ..."
His eyes filled with tears. "Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."
"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.
Hagrid snorted.
"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."
Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go ...tryin' ter make him fly away...but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An' - an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law..." He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."
¡*¡*¡*¡*¡*¡*
The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ron, Hermione and Simran had hoped. Though Natasha had by no means forgotten about Black, she couldn't brood constantly on revenge if she wanted to help Hagrid win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The four of them went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defense for Buckbeak. The four of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.
"Here's something...there was a case in 1722...but the Hippogriff was convicted - ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting -", Natasha said disgustedly.
"This might help, look - a Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off - oh - no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it..."
"Maybe even the ministry people will be scared of this, and let them leave.", Simran said.
"I doubt it.", Hermione said.
Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.
On Christmas morning, Natasha was woken by Simran who was tickling her leg.
"Could you stop doing that?", Natasha said irritatedly.
"Its time to open presents!", Simran said happily.
Natasha reached for her glasses and put them on, squinting through the semi-darkness to the foot of her bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Hermione was already ripping the paper off her own presents, and Simran went to her pile.
"I will wash my face and come.", Natasha said and went to the bath area.
When Natasha came back and started opening her own presents. Mrs. Weasley had sent her a scarlet sweater with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, c a box of nut brittle. Hermione had sent a muggle romance book, that Natasha had wanted last summer, and a book on advanced potions. Simran's present was some kind of Indian sculpture. As she moved all these things aside, she saw a long, thin package lying underneath.
"What's that?" said Simran, looking over, a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hand.
"I have no idea,", Natasha said taking the parcel in her hand.
Natasha ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto her bedspread. The other two came near her to see what it was.
"I don't believe it," she said hoarsely.
It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Natasha had seen in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as she picked it up. She could feel it vibrating and let go; it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for her to mount it. Her eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.
"Who sent it to you?", asked Hermione in a hushed voice.
"Look and see if there's a card," said Natasha.
Simran and Hermione searched through the Firebolt's wrappings.
"Nothing! There is absolutely no note or letter or even a name card.", Simran said.
"But who would spend so much for me?", Natasha asked.
"I bet it was Dumbledore," said Simran looking at the majestic broom. "You did say that, he sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously..."
Hermione meanwhile was just looking at the broom with a grim expression without saying a word.
"That was my dad's, though," said Natasha. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to me. He wouldn't spend hundreds of Galleons on me. He can't go giving students stuff like this -"
"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" said Simran. "What people don't know, wont hurt him."
"I can't believe this," Natasha muttered. "Who-?"
"I know," said Simran. "I know who it could've been – Lupin or it can be even Snape, though I hate to think that it can be him!"
"What?" said Natasha, now starting to laugh himself "Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes. Snape is another absurd theory. Does he even strike you like a person who will gift someone like that?"
"Yeah, I agree about Snape. But Lupin likes you," said Ron. "And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you -"
"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Natasha. "He was ill when I was playing in that match."
"Oh yeah right.", Simran agreed.
"What do you think, Hermione?", Natasha asked Hermione who was silent during the whole conversation.
"I have absolutely no idea, who it can be. But I think we should be very careful before jumping to conclusions.", Hermione said very seriously.
"What do you mean, Hermione?", Natasha asked
"I don't know," said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"
"It's the best broom there is, Hermione,", Natasha said. "At least according to the list of the brooms that Wood gave me for reading.
"So, it must've been really expensive..."
"The costliest of them all.", agreed Natasha.
"Well...who'd send Natasha something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.
"What are you insinuating, Hermione?", Natasha asked.
"Don't you think that, this could be a cursed broom sent by Sirius Black?", Hermione asked.
"How is that even possible? There is no way that, Black could have brought it. I mean, he just cant walk into the broom store and order one, can he?", Simran asked.
"That is a fair point, but as you know in muggle world when people of importance faces threats and get an anonymous gift, which very well can kill you in some way, they check it once.", Hermione said.
"That's true.", Natasha agreed. "I agree with your point.", she remembered her first year where someone had tried to kill her by cursing her broom. "But whom will we tell?"
"I think we should go and tell Professor McGonagall.", Hermione said looking at the broom.
"That I think is an excellent idea.", Natasha agreed. "She is our head of house, and I am sure that she will keep it a secret."
"Are you guys sure that, you want to give the broom for checking? ", Simran asked "I mean, do you think that the condition of the broom will be good after the testing is done, and it is found that there is nothing wrong with the broom?"
"Yeah.", Natasha said. "I read in a book that, all the tests in a broom for curses are safe and will not damage the broom in any way if it is safe."
"Then I also say that, we give it. Better safe than sorry, right?", Simran asked.
"Yep.", the other two girls said. They then immediately got ready and went down to the common room, where Ron was waiting for them. They had planned that, they were going to tell Ron only afterwards about the broom. Hermione said that, she will go and inform Professor McGonagall about the broom so that she can collect it afterwards. Ron was sitting in a chair and was eating some chocolates.
"Hey Ron. Merry Christmas.", Simran said.
"Merry Christmas to you three too.", Ron said with a chocolate in his mouth.
"Ron! How many times do I have to tell you not to talk while you are eating!?", Simran said disgustedly. Natasha and Hermione just giggled.
"I just can't help it.", Ron said shrugging.
Just then Crookshanks came dowm from the dormitory, and jumped, right at Ron's chest.
"GET - HIM - OUT - OF - HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of another chair, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.
"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting back on the chair nursing his toe. "
"Even he can't help it Ron! It's a cat!", said Simran angrily and Hermione was close to tears.
Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron.
Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands. It had been a while since Natasha had seen him out of Ron's pocket, and she was unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, was now very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out too.
"He's not looking too good, is he?" Natasha said.
"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"
But Natasha, remembering what the woman at the Magical Menagerie had said about rats living only three years, couldn't help feeling that unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed, he was reaching the end of his life. And despite Ron's frequent complaints that Scabbers was both boring and useless, she was sure Ron would be very miserable if Scabbers died.
"Let's all just calm down, OK?", Natasha said as she tried to calm them down. "Its Christmas for Merlin's sake!"
Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Even Simran was now in a foul mood with Ron, as she liked cats. The four of them just sat in silence completely annoyed with each other. The three girls still didn't tell Ron about the firebolt that, Natasha had received.
At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, two extremely nervous-looking first years who were in Ravenclaw.
"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as the four of them approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables...Sit down, sit down!"
Natasha, Ron, Simran and Hermione sat down side by side at the end of the table.
"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.
Simran, remembering the Boggart, caught Ron's eye and they both grinned; Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once. Natasha was struggling not to laugh at that. But Snape was her favorite professor after all.
"Dig in!", Dumbledore advised the table, beaming around.
As Natasha was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was a woman, a thin woman, draped in gauzy shawls, and cloaks and bangles all covered with shining sequins and glittering strings of beads gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.
"That's Professor Trelawney.", Ron muttered to Natasha.
"So, that's the woman who is predicting her death everytime.", Natasha thought to herself.
"Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.
"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness..."
"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair -"
"She's quite a character, isn't she?", Natasha asked Simran. Simran just chuckled and said, "You should see her in class."
And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.
"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"
Natasha was just struggling not to laugh at the professor's eccentricities.
"We'll risk it, Sibyll," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."
Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.
"Tripe, Sibyll?"
Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"
"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."
Natasha and Hermione just looked at each other. Natasha knew that, she had to look at the lunar cycle today.
"But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.
Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.
"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."
"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.
Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.
"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him -"
"I don't think I blame him.", Rob said quietly to his friends.
"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.
"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"
"Yes, Headmaster," said Snape.
"Good," said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time...Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent."
The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.
Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Natasha, Ron and Simran got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly.
"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"
"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Natasha.
"Oh come on. I don't believe in such nonsense.", Natasha said looking at Ron.
"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."
Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.
"Coming?", Ron said to Hermione.
"No," Hermione muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."
"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," yawned Ron as they make their way into the Entrance Hall.
Natasha gave a glance to Simran. They both knew why Hermione was with the Professor.
When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.
"Merry - hic - Christmas! Password?"
"Scurvy cur," said Ron.
"And the same to you, sir! roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.
As soon as they reached the common room, Natasha knew that, she had to tell Ron about firebolt.
"Ron, I need to tell you about something.", Natasha said to him.
"What is it, Natasha?", Ron asked.
"IreceivedaFireboltaspresenttoday", Natasha said really fast.
"What did you say?", Ron asked really confused.
"She received a Firebolt as present for Christmas.", Simran said casually.
"What!?", Ron nearly shouted. "Are you saying that, you got the fastest and the most expensive room as a Christmas present?"
"Yeah. But-", but before Natasha could continue, Ron said, "can you show me the broom?"
Natasha nodded and went to the dormitory to collect the broom. She came back, and placed the broom in front of Ron. Ron looked at it with an open mouth. He examined nearly every corner of the broomstick admiring its every feature.
"Beautiful. Beautiful.", he said as he walked around, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.
Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, Natasha had only seen her in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. Ron stared at her, both the Firebolt. Hermione walked around him, and stood near Natasha.
"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."
"Yes mam.", Natasha nodded. Ron gave Hermione a confused look. Hermione just ignored the look and was lookin at the Professor.
"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of Ron's hand. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No," said Natasha.
"I see..." said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."
"I know, Professor. Better safe than sorry.", Natasha said with a nod.
"W - what?" said Ron, scrambling to her feet. "Why?"
"It will need to be checked for jinxes," said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down -"
"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.
"Calm down, Ron!", Natasha said to him.
"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."
Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Natasha stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in her hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione and Natasha
"Why the hell did you both do that for!? ", he shouted at the two.
Simran joined the other two to offer help, and she said, "Because she thought - and Professor McGonagall agrees with me - that that broom was probably sent to Natasha by Sirius Black!"
"But that's impossible! How can Black go to the shop and just order some broom?", Ron asked outraged.
"What if he is working with somebody? What if he has Polyjuice potion?", Natasha asked.
"But making poly-", Ron started.
"If he can break out of Azkaban, I am sure that he could do it somehow, and there are some spells that can be used as a minor disguise.", Simran said.
"Better safe than sorry.", Hermione said.
"OK OK. I get your point. But do you think, the broom will be fine when they return it?", Ron asked.
"Well, according to one of the books you gave me, yes it will be.", Natasha said.
"Right. What do we do now?", Ron asked.
"Just sit and pray to merlin that, the broom is alright.", Natasha replied.