A/N Oh dear it's been ages since I last updated! I'm so sorry, I've had a hectic life at the moment - and I have GCSE mocks starting tomorrow (Maths - eurgh) so I should actually be revising ... :/ Hmm, I finally got this chapter done - it honestly took ages to do, but I hope it's satisfactory. Please R&R
Chapter Ten
The Mysterious Benefactor
The walk back to Hogwarts was in silence, each friend in their own thoughts. Harry had left them to get back down the Honeydukes cellar, and everything from the conversation was playing on their minds.
All through dinner, they watched Harry, but couldn't say anything, for Percy was near them. When they had got back to the common room, Harry went straight up to bed, because Fred and George had let off a load of dungbombs in end-of-term spirits. Amara, who usually would've laughed with them, tuned them out and ignored the excited shouts, and instead sat on the sofa with Ron and Hermione. Fred and George looked bemused, but waved it off quickly.
"What do we do?" Amara voiced everyone's thoughts.
Ron and Hermione just looked helplessly at her.
"You should go check up on him," Hermione said abruptly. Ron gave her a look before getting up and going up to the dormitory. He came down two minutes later.
"He's pretending to be asleep," he said as he sunk back down.
Amara sighed. "Well," she said. "What's the point in staying down here? I'm off to bed, see you in the morning."
She trooped up to her dormitory and flopped onto her four-poster bed. She took a glance at the pictures that were on the wall, stuck on by Spellotape. Some were muggle pictures – frozen in their frames, contrasting the wizard photographs next to them, where the occupants moved about. There was one of her, Tessie and Ethan – another of all her cousins at her mother's birthday party. The last Muggle one was of her parents and grandparents. There was another one of Jesse, Noah and Tally, a moving one this time, all in their Beauxbatons uniforms, a silk blue robe that Tally seemed to love, because she kept swishing it about. There was also one of Hermione and Amara, which her mother had made, and Jesse had sent her a potion that made it move.
Amara thought about how lucky she was with her family, and felt sorry for how Harry's seemed to get more broken up by the day. The only horrible thing to have happened with her family was when her Grandma Rose died and when her Grandfather, Kleon Agape, dived off a cliff and hit the rocks below (he spent a good six months in Hospital, and it meant that his wife, their other Grandmother, Grandma Thomasina, stayed with them).
She knew that Harry was not asleep, and wished that they hadn't listened to the conversation – in fact, she wished that Fred and George had not given the Marauder's Map to them. Then, she realised, it was all Sirius Black's fault – Harry wouldn't have needed the Map to get into Hogsmeade – he wouldn't have even heard the conversation because his parents would have been alive. But then, Amara countered herself, what would have happened to Voldemort? Would he still be alive and running around the country, killing off Muggleborns? Would Amara even be there, if he was, and he destroyed all letters addressed to them? She wouldn't know Harry, Ron or Hermione, she wouldn't know that Jesse, Noah and Tally were magical and would be at some boring, grey school with no proper friends.
With these horrible thoughts in mind, Amara drifted off into an uneasy sleep, filled with lies and murderers.
-OOOOO-
The next morning, Amara met Ron and Hermione down in the common room. Apparently, Harry was still asleep, so the three of them went down to the nearly empty Great Hall to have breakfast. They did not talk much, for it was very quiet, as only about three other students were there. They did in the end, however, once a bed-headed Ethan, Eddie and Piper wandered in. Piper, eventhough she was a Ravenclaw, decided to sit with them, because the only other first years were two Hufflepuffs, and she said they were very annoying.
"It is lonely up in the Dormitory though," admitted Piper as she ate her toast. "I mean, imagine having the entire dorm to yourself, and the common room? It's a bit depressing, actually, d'you think Dumbledore would mind if I could stay with you in Gryffindor Tower for the holidays? I don't think Flitwick would."
"I don't know," said Eddie. "What about McGonagall?"
"She loves me," Piper waved her hand. "And if Dumbledore allows it, then of course she would!"
They carried on debating their chances, so Amara, Ron and Hermione wished them luck before heading upstairs and sitting in the common room. Hermione retrieved her bag and started her homework over three tables, Amara and Ron got all their sweets as Amara half-heartedly did her Ancient Runes essay.
"We have to tell him," Hermione said after a while.
"About what?"
"Well," Hermione said. "He's bound to want to get back at Black, you know? And you know …"
"We should talk about it with him?" asked Amara and Hermione nodded.
"He'll want to go after Black," said Ron.
"But that's stupid!" Hermione said. "That's utterly stupid! He mustn't!"
"Black isn't worth dying for," Ron said, shaking his head.
"Well, we'll see how talking to him goes, first," Amara said, eating a chocolate frog. "Hey Ron, do you have another Chocoball? I think I've eaten all mine."
"But they're mine," said Ron indignantly.
"Oh, c'mon Ron," moaned Amara. "They're my favourite. I'll trade three Peppermint Toads for two Chocoballs – see, you get one free!"
"Fine," said Ron. "Only because I like them."
Harry did not surface until nearly lunchtime. By that time, Amara and Ron had played five games of chess, three games of who-can-get-the-parchment-into-the-waste-paper-basket and six games of gobstones. In fact, Ron had just said that he was going to go and fetch him when he came trooping down the stairs, looking awful.
"Harry, you look like crap!" Amara said, and Ron elbowed her. "Ow!"
"Where is everyone?"
"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron. "It's nearly lunctime, I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."
Harry slumped into a chair next to Amara, looking terrible.
"You really don't look well you know," said Hermione.
"I'm fine."
"Listen Harry," said Hermione. "You must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."
"Like what?" said Harry.
"Like looking for Black," said Amara.
Harry said nothing.
"You won't, will you?" asked Hermione.
"Because Black's not worth dying for," said Ron.
"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me? 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 that is a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her –"
"She wouldn't want you to track him down!" exclaimed Amara. "Look at it from our point of view too!"
"And the Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and serve him right!" said Hermione.
"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."
"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to-to kill Black or something?"
"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?"
Harry didn't answer for a few tense minutes.
"Malfoy knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself... I'd want revenge.'"
"You're going to take Malfoy'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, Harry, and he's dangerous -"
"Malfoy's dad must have told him," said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle -"
"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily.
"- so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort -"
"- and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get Yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."
"Harry, 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, Harry, 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 Harry 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!"
"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron -"
"Yeah, let's go," said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"
"No!" Amara exclaimed and everyone looked at her. "That's enough talk of Black – it's Christmas, like Ron said! Let's go and be happy with Hagrid! Not talk about that wretched man!"
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?"
Amara, Harry and Hermione put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.
"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.
"Hagrid!" called Harry, thumping the door. "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.
"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harry's neck.
Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Amara, Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. 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 Amara.
Harry spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.
"What's this, Hagrid?"
Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Harry, 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, slapping his shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Harry 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...'
Harry trailed off.
"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!"
There was a sound in the corner and the four of them whipped around to see the hippogriff tethered to the bed, chomping on something horrible, as it was oozing blood across the floor.
"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."
Amara shifted uncomfortably. Hagrid had never really understood the difference between monsters and 'interesting creatures'.
"You'll have to put up a good strong defence, Hagrid," said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."
"Won't 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 -"
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 Harry.
"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 -"
Amara, Ron and Hermione looked quickly at Harry, scared about his reaction. Amara crossed her fingers under the table.
"Listen, Hagrid," he said, "you can't give up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defence. You can call us as witnesses -"
"Yeah, and I can get the others to be witnesses too – they'll say it was Malfoy's fault, Hagrid!" Amara said.
"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. Amara, Harry and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.
"Er-shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron.
They stared.
"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.
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.
"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 Amara and Ron, their lips 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. Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched him breathlessly. Hagrid had never mentioned his time in Azkaban before. After a pause, Hermione said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"
"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. Norbert was the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards.
"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' I 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."
-OOOOO-
The trip to Hagrid's had certainly made an impression on all four of them. They decided to help Hagrid with all that they could to prevent Buckbeak getting prosecuted. The next day, four days before Christmas Eve, the four friends trooped to the library and back again, laden with armfuls of huge volumes, hopefully containing vital information that could get Buckbeak let off. They were silent as they worked, kept warm by the roaring fire, and occasionally speaking, if they found something.
"Here's something... there was a case in 1722... but the hippogriff was convicted-ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting -"
"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."
"There was a giant bugbear that got convicted – oh, hey cool, it got its own forest because it was only attacking people because it was held captive…"
Eddie, Ethan and Piper, who had been allowed to stay in Gryffindor Tower, had busied themselves elsewhere in the castle, taking it upon themselves to explore every inch of it before the start of the new term.
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 armour, 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 Day, Amara awoke slightly earlier than usual to find a large pile of presents at the edge of her bed.
"Morning," said Hermione, already opening hers. "Thanks for the charm –" she held up the little charm of a hedgehog that Amara had given her.
"No problem," grinned Amara, starting her pile. She received a nice warm jumper from Mrs Weasley, in a nice pale pink, to add to her collection. From Harry, she got some different flavoured hot chocolate packets, from Ron a massive box of Chocoballs. She received some colour-changing nail varnish from Ginny and a scrapbook from the Reynolds, as well as some scented candles. She got a whole row of photos in frames from her family, which she stuck on the wall, next to her other ones, as well as some new comfy clothes and money that she had left at home so that she wouldn't spend it all in Hogsmeade the first time around.
She changed into her new jumper and joggers and went with Hermione to meet Harry and Ron. She was holding Crookshanks, who was looking irritated, having been forced to have a string of tinsel around his neck the day before. They saw Eddie, Ethan and Piper wandering out of the portrait hole as they went down, all three of them looking rather suspicious.
Once entering the bedroom, they found Harry and Ron rolling around laughing.
"What're you two laughing about?" asked Hermione, dropping Crookshanks onto Seamus' bed.
"Don't bring him in here!" said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pyjama pocket.
But Hermione wasn't listening. She stared at something on Harry's bed. Amara went and sat on Neville's bed and looked over too. On it was a broomstick, sleek and shiny, the newest model – a Firebolt.
"Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"
"No idea," said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."
"Holy mother of Merlin Harry!" exclaimed Amara. "That's the best broom ever!"
"I know," grinned Harry.
"Can I see it? Can I just touch it?"
"What's the matter with you?" came Ron's voice. Amara turned and saw Hermione looking very wary.
"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?"
Ron sighed exasperatedly.
"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," he said.
"So it must've been really expensive..."
"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," said Ron happily.
"Well... who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.
"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"
"Can I as well?" grinned Amara. "OH please?"
"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.
Amara, Harry and Ron looked at her.
"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it-sweep the floor?" said Ron.
But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus's bed, right at Ron's chest.
"GET-HIM-OUT-OF-HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pyjamas 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 Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.
Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tint, whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from come old socks from Harry's trunk and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.
"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. I never wear those socks if I can help it...
The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.
"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," said Ron furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe. "Can't you shut that thing up?" he added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron.
Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk. All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands. Scabbers was looking very ill now. Amara remembered him to being fat and sleep all the time; now, his fur was falling out and his bones were showing.
"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harry said.
"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"
Amara bit her lip and walked out the room, ready to find Hermione. She was in the dorm, Crookshanks curled up on Sophie's bed.
"Why did you say that?" Amara asked her.
"Because there could be something dangerous about that broomstick!" Hermione said.
"How?" Amara said, confused. "It's a highly magical object, it'd take a lot of magic to affect that, and probably Dark Magic too."
"Precisely!" Hermione said. "It could've been sent by Sirius Black!"
Amara blinked, then snorted.
"Sirius Black?" she said. "He's on the run, Hermione! How is he meant to get his hands on a more than 300 Galleon broomstick? He can't just waltz into Quality Quidditch Supplies!"
"I don't know," said Hermione.
Amara frowned. "Hmf, don't you do anything, Hermione." She walked out of the door, leaving Hermione facing away from her.
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. Amara gave up trying to make them talk to each other, for Amara was cross with Hermione as well, so she and Harry devoted themselves to examining the Firebolt, which Harry had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat.
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 seventeen, 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 mouldy looking tailcoat. There were only three other students with Piper, Ethan and Eddie, two extremely nervous-looking first years and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year. Piper, Ethan and Eddie waved them over to their end of the table.
"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables... Sit down, sit down!"
Amara sat down with her brother and friends.
"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.
Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.
"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around. Amara pulled a cracker with Piper, which contained a good set of gobstones, which Amara gave to her and a few white mice. Piper caught one and put it on her shoulder, which it happily sat.
As they were eating the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honour of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.
"Sybill, 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 -"
And he did indeed draw a chair in mid-air with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney sat down with a lot of grace.
"Tripe, Sybill?" asked Professor McGonagall.
Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open, 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."
"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" 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 AllKnowing. 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 -"
"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. Amara shifted slightly, aware that nobody else but Hermione knew what on earth was going on. Well, except for the teachers, who all seemed to know. "Then he should be up and about in no time … Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."
The first-year Hufflepuff named Derek went bright red and took the platter shakily.
Amara was stuffed like a turkey once she had finished, and she, Harry and Ron stood up first.
"Coming?" Amara asked Hermione, who had stayed sat down. Eddie, Ethan and Piper had gotten up too and had walked away, out of the front doors to see Hagrid in his cabin.
"No," said Hermione. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."
Amara frowned at her as they walked away.
"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," Ron said. But Amara had a horrible feeling it was about the Firebolt.
"Merry – hic – Christmas! Password?" said a rather drunk Sir Cadogan when they reached the portrait hole.
"Scurvy cur," Ron replied.
"And the same to you, sir!"
Harry retrieved his Firebolt from his dorm so he and Ron could admire it. Amara glanced warily at it, wandering what Hermione was doing. She came in a little while later – accompanied by Professor McGonagall.
Amara suddenly knew that she had gone and told McGonagall about the Firebolt, for she was looking at it.
"So that's it, is it?" she said, staring at the broomstick. "Miss Granger informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."
Hermione had hidden herself behind a book, which was upside down.
"May I?" she asked, taking it out of Harry and Ron's hands. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No."
"I see …" said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."
"W-what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet as Amara and Ron gaped at her. "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.
"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."
"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor -"
"You can't know that, Potter," said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."
Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron and Amara, however, rounded on Hermione.
"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"
Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.
"Because I thought-and Professor McGonagall agrees with me-that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"