A/N So I've left school now (YAY) but don't know what to do for 3 months before I go to college ... hmm anyways, here's the next chapter - please remember to review!
Chapter Seventeen
Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four
It was amazing how much happier Harry was for the rest of the weekend. On the Sunday that followed Amara managed to get Tessie, Aubrey and Joey's signatures on Hermione's parchment with the rest of the names.
"I jinxed the parchment," Hermione whispered to her as the three first-years walked away.
"Really?" Amara said. "What type?"
"I - well if anyone says anything to Umbridge - they'll - they'll get the words SNEAK in spots on their face."
Amara opened her mouth in shock. Then she grinned.
"That's amazing."
They took their homework outside because it was so nice outside. Amara only had to do one essay whilst Hermione took some wool and bewitched her needles to make more hats and scarves in mid-air.
So there was finally something to look forwards to that year, instead of just having Umbridge. Amara was so pleased that they were doing something to go against her and the Ministry that she stayed happy all weekend and didn't complain that the next day had mostly bad lessons.
Amara and Hermione were coming down the stairs on the Monday morning when there was a loud wailing alarm and the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide like a helter-skelter. Two fourth years were in front of them and they shrieked with glee as they shot down the slide.
Amara and Hermione whizzed down the slide as well, and Amara enjoyed it immensely.
They found Ron complaining at the bottom of the slide, as it seemed he was trying to get up.
"Well, it's an old-fashioned rule," explained Hermione, "but it says in Hogwarts, A History that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls. Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?"
"To see you — look at this!" said Ron, dragging her and Amara over to the notice board.
The lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training schedule, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog cards for others, the Weasleys' new advertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends, and the lost-and-found notices were all covered by a large official looking sign that didn't Amara didn't like the look of. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.
— by order of—
THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All Student Organisations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.
An Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No Student Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed:
Dolores Jane Umbridge
HIGH INQUISITOR
Amara had a stony face by the end of reading it.
"Someone must have blabbed to her!" Ron said angrily.
"They can't have done," said Hermione in a low voice.
"You're so naive," said Ron, "you think just because you're all honourable and trustworthy —"
"No, they can't have done because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed," said Hermione grimly. "Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it."
"What'll happen to them?" said Ron eagerly.
"Well, put it this way," said Hermione, "it'll make Eloise Midgen's acne look like a couple of cute freckles." Amara laughed. "Come on, let's get down to breakfast and see what the others think. . . . I wonder whether this has been put up in all the Houses?"
It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had barely taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George, and Ginny descended upon them.
"Did you see it?"
"D'you reckon she knows?"
"What are we going to do?"
They were all looking at Harry. He glanced around to make sure there were no teachers near them.
"We're going to do it anyway, of course," he said quietly.
"Knew you'd say that," said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.
"Awesome!" Amara beamed.
"The prefects as well?" said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.
"Of course," said Hermione coolly. Fred shrugged.
"Here comes Ernie and Hannah Abbott," said Ron, looking over his shoulder. "And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith . . . and no one looks very spotty."
Hermione looked alarmed.
"Never mind spots, the idiots can't come over here now, it'll look really suspicious — sit down!" she mouthed to Ernie and Hannah, gesturing frantically to them to re-join the Hufflepuff table. "Later! We'll — talk — to — you — later!"
"I'll tell Michael," said Ginny impatiently, swinging herself off her bench. "The fool, honestly . . ."
She hurried off toward the Ravenclaw table towards Michael and his friends. How had Umbridge found out about them? Or was it merely a coincidence? There were only a few people in the pub, they could have easily overheard and told someone.
As they were coming out of the Great Hall, another voice sounded out.
"Harry! Ron!"
It was Angelina and she was hurrying toward them looking perfectly desperate.
"It's okay," said Harry quietly, when she was near enough to hear him. "We're still going to —"
"You realise she's including Quidditch in this?" Angelina said over him. "We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!"
"What?" said Harry.
"No way," said Ron, appalled.
"You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So listen, Harry . . . I am saying this for the last time. . . . Please, please don't lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play anymore!"
"Okay, okay," said Harry, for Angelina looked as though she was on the verge of tears. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself. . . ."
"Bet Umbridge is in History of Magic," said Ron grimly, as they set off for Binns's lesson. "She hasn't inspected Binns yet. . . . Bet you anything she's there. . . ."
He was wrong - only Professor Binns was in there again, and the lesson was just as boring as the last one - it was his usual drone on giant wars. Amara didn't know how he could make such a brutal fighting in the nineteenth century so boring. He made the year 1875 as though it was just a general day, not that there was an epic battle that destroyed a lot of the countryside and many Muggles and wizards alike?
Amara started drawing the giants instead, in their battle of fighting and managed to get them moving around her parchment too. It was quite entertaining to watch as two of the ganged up on the other to take it down.
Hermione was not amused. Harry and Ron kept watching it and egging on their favourite, whilst Hermione kept nudging and glaring at Harry.
When she did a massive nudge in the ribs they finally looked up.
"What?" Harry said angrily.
She pointed at the window. Amara turned and saw Hedwig perched on the window ledge holding a letter on her leg. Amara was surprised. Why was Hedwig here and hadn't turned up with the rest of the owls at breakfast?
Everyone else, who, like in Umbridge's classes, seemed keen to do everything except what they were meant to be doing, were looking at the snowy owl too.
"Oh, I've always loved that owl, she's so beautiful," Lavender sighed to Parvati.
Harry slipped quietly off his chair, crouched down, and hurried along the row to the window, where he slid the catch and opened it very slowly. The moment the window was open wide enough she hopped inside, hooting dolefully. Harry closed the window with an anxious glance at Professor Binns, crouched low again, and sped back to his seat with Hedwig on his shoulder. He regained his seat, transferred Hedwig to his lap, and made to remove the letter tied to her leg.
Amara looked at Hedwig and gasped slightly. Her wings were being held in an odd angle, her feathers were ruffled too.
"She's hurt!" Harry whispered, bending his head low over her. Amara, Hermione and Ron leaned in closer; Hermione even put down her quill. "Look — there's something wrong with her wing —"
Hedwig was quivering; when Harry made to touch the wing she gave a little jump, all her feathers on end as though she was inflating herself, and gazed at him reproachfully.
"Professor Binns," said Harry loudly, and everyone in the class turned to look at him. "I'm not feeling well."
Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, looking amazed, as always, to find the room in front of him full of people.
"Not feeling well?" he repeated hazily.
"Not at all well," said Harry firmly, getting to his feet while concealing Hedwig behind his back. "So I think I'll need to go to the hospital wing."
"Yes," said Professor Binns, clearly very much wrong-footed. "Yes . . . yes, hospital wing . . . well, off you go, then, Perkins . . ."
Harry hurried out the room with Hedwig and the class settled down again.
"What do you think happened to her?" Amara whispered to Ron and Hermione. Ron shrugged, looking troubled, whilst Hermione looked grim.
"I'm not sure, but it sure doesn't look like an accident," she whispered. "Someone targeted Hedwig."
She didn't say anything else all lesson, except dutifully taking notes. Amara couldn't concentrate. Someone must have been trying to get Harry's mail. The reply Hedwig had was from Sirius, Amara knew, which would be risky if they interpreted 'Snuffles'. But the Ministry didn't know he was an Animagus yet ... They wouldn't know Snuffles ...
When the bell went and Harry hadn't returned, they went to the courtyard to wait for him.
"Someone was trying to get his mail," Amara said her hypothesis to the other two. Ron looked shocked and Hermione nodded.
"I think so too," she said. "Whoever intercepted Hedwig wanted to see what she was carrying. How many snowy owls are there at Hogwarts? Only Harry has one, so they obviously want to know who he is writing too ..."
"Bet it's -" Ron started, but Harry was hurrying towards them and Hermione cut him off.
"Is Hedwig okay?" asked Hermione anxiously, the moment he was within earshot.
"Where did you take her?" asked Ron.
"To Grubbly-Plank," said Harry. "And I met McGonagall. . . . Listen. . . . She said the channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts are being watched."
Their suspicions were confirmed and Amara exchanged looks with the others.
"What?" said Harry, looking from Amara to Ron to Hermione and back again.
"Well, we were just saying. . . what if someone had tried to intercept Hedwig? I mean, she's never been hurt on a flight before, has she?" Hermione said.
"Who's the letter from anyway?" asked Ron, taking the note from Harry.
"Snuffles," said Harry quietly. Amara leaned over to see what it said.
Today, same time, same place.
" 'Same time, same place'? Does he mean the fire in the common room?" Harry said.
"Obviously," said Hermione, also reading the note. She looked uneasy. "I just hope nobody else has read this. . . ."
"But it was still sealed and everything," said Harry, but Amara wasn't convinced. "And nobody would understand what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?"
"I don't know," said Hermione anxiously, hitching her bag back over her shoulder as the bell rang again. "It wouldn't be exactly difficult to reseal the scroll by magic. . . . And if anyone's watching the Floo Network . . . but I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without that being intercepted too!"
They trudged down the stone steps to the dungeons for Potions, all four of them lost in thought, but as they reached the bottom of the stairs they were recalled to themselves by the voice of Draco Malfoy, who was standing just outside Snape's classroom door, waving around an official-looking piece of parchment and talking much louder than was necessary so that they could hear every word.
"Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry. . . . It'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, wont it?"
"Don't rise," Hermione whispered imploringly to Harry and Ron, who were both watching Malfoy, faces set and fists clenched. "It's what he wants. . . ."
"I mean," said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron's direction, and Amara scowled at him. "if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance. . . . From what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years. . . . And as for Potter . . . My father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's. . . . apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic. . . ."
Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter, Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee.
Neville Longbottom suddenly surged past Harry and headed straight for Malfoy. His face was red and he looked so angry and Amara was shocked. She'd never seen Neville so angry before.
"Neville, no!"
Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Malfoy who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked, as did everyone else waiting for potions class.
"Help me!" Harry flung at them, managing to get an arm around Neville's neck and dragging him backward, away from the Slytherins. Amara and Ron hurried forwards - Ron grabbed his arms and Amara went in front of him and pushed him back slightly. She was so small though that Neville could just look over her head, at the Slytherins who were now readying themselves for a fight. Neville was trying to say something too.
"Not. . . funny . . . don't . . . Mungo's . . . show . . . him . . ."
The dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where Harry and Ron were wrestling with Neville with Amara pushing him back.
"Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom, Miss Matthews?" Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you."
Harry let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring at him.
"I had to stop you," Harry gasped, picking up his bag. "Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart."
Neville said nothing, he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon.
"What in the name of Merlin," said Ron slowly, as they followed Neville, "was that about?"
Amara shrugged unsurely. What on earth had made Neville get so angry?
Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their usual seats at the back of the class and pulled out parchment, quills, and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang everybody fell silent immediately.
"You will notice," said Snape in his low, sneering voice, "that we have a guest with us today."
He gestured toward the dim corner of the dungeon, where Professor Umbridge was sitting with her usual clipboard.
"We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend — instructions" — he waved his wand again — "on the board. Carry on."
Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner, so Amara did not pay her much attention. Instead, she concentrated on her potion, which wasn't going as well as she'd hoped.
Harry, however, was very keen to see what Umbridge was doing.
"Salamander blood, Harry!" Hermione moaned, grabbing Harry's wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient for the third time. "Not pomegranate juice!"
"Right," said Harry vaguely, putting down the bottle and continuing to watch the corner. Umbridge had just gotten to her feet. "Ha," he said softly, as she strode between two lines of desks toward Snape, who was bending over Dean Thomas's cauldron.
"Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level," she said briskly to Snape's back and Amara tried not to listen, but she couldn't help it. She peered over her cauldron to watch. "Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus."
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.
"Now . . . how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.
"Fourteen years," Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. Amara looked down at her potion to check if it was alright, and then back up again.
"You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?" Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
"Yes," said Snape quietly.
"But you were unsuccessful?"
Snape's lip curled. "Obviously."
Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.
"And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?"
"Yes," said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry and Amara tried not to be amused by it.
"Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?" asked Umbridge.
"I suggest you ask him," said Snape jerkily.
"Oh I shall," said Professor Umbridge with a sweet smile.
"I suppose this is relevant?" Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.
"Oh yes," said Professor Umbridge. "Yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers' — er — backgrounds. . . ."
She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons.
Amara went back to her potion and managed to save it before it went orange - Harry's was ruined and was now giving off a foul odour. Amara's potion was finally alright and she didn't have to deal with Hermione's looks of disappointment.
"Maybe I'll skive off Divination," Harry said glumly as they stood again in the courtyard after lunch, the wind whipping at the hems of robes and brims of hats. Snape had given him extra homework because his potion was so bad. "I'll pretend to be ill and do Snape's essay instead, then I won't have to stay up half the night. . . ."
"You can't skive off Divination," said Hermione severely.
"Hark who's talking, you walked out of Divination, you hate Trelawney!" said Ron indignantly.
"I don't hate her," said Hermione loftily. "I just think she's an absolutely appalling teacher and a real old fraud. . . . But Harry's already missed History of Magic and I don't think he ought to miss anything else today!"
So Harry had to go to Divination whilst Amara and Hermione were in Ancient Runes.
The work had suddenly become much harder than they were used to. Professor Babbling was giving them much harder translations they had to figure out and each lesson every person struggled with their head down and a fist in the hair in determination.
She had put the tables together that lesson so that they could all work together on it. The Slytherins, Theodore Nott, Tracey Davis, Lily Moon and Daphne Greengrass all sat together, as did Roger Malone, Sophie Roper, Oliver Rivers, Lisa Turpin and Wayne Hopkins. So Amara and Hermione sat with Terry, Anthony, Susan, Hannah and Padma Patil.
Padma was gifted in translating much harder Runes and she was a great help to them all on the table. Hermione seemed less than keen to accept help, but did so grudgingly, and she only listened when everyone was asking Padma questions. They also started whispering about Umbridge's new law, and what they were going to do about it.
"Knew it," said Terry when they had whispered that they were going to do it still. "Excellent."
Amara was beginning to warm up to a lot more people now that they'd signed the parchment, basically saying they trusted Harry.
Professor Babbling had told them that she'd already been seen in a lesson by Umbridge and had been cleared, so Amara and Hermione didn't have to worry about her bursting in and hearing what they were talking about.
The next lesson was Defence Against the Dark Arts with the toad herself, and Harry and Ron looked rather grim when they entered with the others.
"You and Umbridge have got something in common," Harry told Hermione quietly. "She obviously reckons Trelawney's an old fraud too. . . . Looks like she's put her on probation."
"Probation?" Amara whispered. "Oh no! This can't be good."
Umbridge entered the room as she spoke, wearing her black velvet bow and an expression of great smugness.
"Good afternoon, class."
"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted drearily. "Wands away, please . . ."
Nobody had to put their wands back into their bags because no one had even bothered to hope that they would have to.
"Please turn to page thirty-four of Defensive Magical Theory and read the third chapter, entitled 'The Case for Non-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack.' There will be —"
"— no need to talk," Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione said together under their breaths.
-OOOOO-
Once they entered the common room that night after dinner they found Angelina, Alicia and Katie slouched around looking sorry for themselves.
"What's the matter?" Amara said in confusion as Harry led the way over.
"No Quidditch practice," said Angelina in hollow tones.
"But I kept my temper!" said Harry, horrified. "I didn't say any- thing to her, Angelina, I swear, I —"
"I know, I know," said Angelina miserably. "She just said she needed a bit of time to consider."
"Consider what?" said Ron angrily. "She's given the Slytherins permission, why not us?"
"Well," said Hermione, "look on the bright side — at least now you'll have time to do Snape's essay!"
Amara and Ron stared at her incredulously.
"That's a bright side, is it?" snapped Harry. "No Quidditch practice and extra Potions?"
Harry slumped down into a chair, dragged his Potions essay reluctantly from his bag, and set to work.
Amara didn't have anything to do. Hermione was making hats and Ron was doing his own homework. She thought about writing to Tally but she didn't know what to say that wouldn't be interpreted and put everyone at risk.
Fred and George were making a lot of noise. They had perfected their Puking Pastilles and were demonstrating to the excitable crowds with Lee Jordan. Amara sat cross legged on the sofa backwards, with her arms resting on the back of the sofa with her head on them and a rather disgusted look on her face. Fred kept taking a bite out of the orange end of the chew, vomit neatly into the bucket and eat the purple end to make him stop.
Lee was vanishing the sick with his wand at various intervals.
"Yuck," Amara said as she watched. "Imagine if you didn't know they were gonna do that."
Hermione kept sniffing annoyingly at them.
"Just go and stop them, then!" Harry said irritably.
"I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong," said Hermione through gritted teeth. "They're quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves, and I can't find a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buy them, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in some way, and it doesn't look as though they are. . . ."
"They wouldn't make anything dangerous," Amara said. "They test them on themselves first. It's pretty amazing what they make."
She, Hermione, Harry, and Ron watched George projectile-vomit into the bucket, gulp down the rest of the chew, and straighten up, beaming with his arms wide to protracted applause. Amara scrunched her nose up as she watched with one arm on the back of the sofa so she could talk to the others too.
"You know, I don't get why Fred and George only got three O.W.L.s each," said Harry, watching as Fred, George, and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. "They really know their stuff. . . ."
"Oh, they only know flashy stuff that's no real use to anyone," said Hermione disparagingly.
"No real use?" said Ron in a strained voice. "Hermione, they've got about twenty-six Galleons already. . . ."
"Just 'cos you think it's rubbish," Amara countered. "They're going to do very well for themselves."
As always, the twins lavished in the attentions of the crowds, and they didn't disperse for a very long while. Fred, George and Lee stayed up to count their earnings too, which took ages, so Amara went over to see how they were getting on, much to Hermione's displeasure, as she kept scowling at the twins.
"How much you got already?" Amara asked, flopping down on a chair next to Lee. She saw the small pile of Galleons next to the much bigger pile of Galleons next to it in neat stacks.
"Fifty Galleons so far," said Fred excitedly. "This is great!"
"Here," Amara said, putting in five. "Remember to give me how much you can in that, alright? Before anyone else?"
Fred and George beamed at her.
"Of course," they said.
Finally they went to bed too (Fred rattling the box to annoy Hermione, which worked) and they sat by the fire to wait for Sirius.
Ron, who was dozing lightly in an armchair, gave a muffled grunt, awoke, looked blearily into the fire and said, "Sirius!"
Amara looked and sure enough, Sirius was in the fire again.
Harry whipped around; Sirius's untidy dark head was sitting in the fire again.
"Hi," he said, grinning.
"Hi," chorused Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all four kneeling down upon the hearthrug. Crookshanks purred loudly and approached the fire, trying, despite the heat, to put his face close to Sirius's.
"How're things?" said Sirius.
"Not that good," said Harry, as Hermione pulled Crookshanks back to stop him singeing his whiskers. "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams —"
"— or secret Defence Against the Dark Arts groups?" said Sirius. There was a short pause as Amara gaped at him.
"How did you know about that?" Harry demanded.
"You want to choose your meeting places more carefully," said Sirius, grinning still more broadly. "The Hog's Head, I ask you . . ."
"Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!" said Hermione defensively. "That's always packed with people —"
"— which means you'd have been harder to overhear," said Sirius. "You've got a lot to learn, Hermione."
"Who overheard us?" Harry demanded.
"Mundungus, of course," said Sirius, and when they all looked puzzled he laughed. "He was the witch under the veil."
"That was Mundungus?" Harry said, stunned. "What was he doing in the Hog's Head?"
"What do you think he was doing?" said Sirius impatiently. "Keeping an eye on you, of course."
"I'm still being followed?" asked Harry angrily.
"Yeah, you are," said Sirius, "and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organise an illegal defence group."
But he looked neither angry nor worried; on the contrary, he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.
"Why was Dung hiding from us?" asked Ron, sounding disappointed. "We'd've liked to've seen him."
"He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago," said Sirius, "and that barman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately. . . . Anyway . . . First of all, Ron — I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother."
"Oh yeah?" said Ron, sounding apprehensive.
"She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also" — Sirius's eyes turned to the other three — "advises Harry, Amara (and your siblings) and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over any of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight."
"On duty doing what?" said Ron quickly.
"Never you mind, just stuff for the Order," said Sirius. "So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts me to."
There was another pause in which Crookshanks, mewing, attempted to paw Sirius's head, and Ron fiddled with a hole in the hearthrug.
"So you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the defence group?" he muttered finally.
"Me? Certainly not!" said Sirius, looking surprised. "I think it's an excellent idea!"
"You do?" said Harry, looking excited.
"Of course I do!" said Sirius. "D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?"
"But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks —"
"Last year all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!" said Sirius impatiently. "This year we know that there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!"
"And if we do get expelled?" Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face.
"Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!" said Harry, staring at her.
"I know it was. . . . I just wondered what Sirius thought," she said, shrugging. Amara frowned at her.
"Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue," said Sirius.
"Hear, hear," said Amara, Harry and Ron enthusiastically.
"So," said Sirius, "how are you organizing this group? Where are you meeting?"
"Well, that's a bit of a problem now," said Harry. "Dunno where we're going to be able to go. . . ."
"How about the Shrieking Shack?" suggested Sirius.
"Hey, that's an idea!" said Ron excitedly, but Hermione made a sceptical noise and all three of them looked at her, Sirius's head turning in the flames.
"Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only four of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school," said Hermione, "and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are thirty-six of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee —"
"Fair point," said Sirius, looking put-out. "Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere. . . . There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practice jinxes in there —"
"Fred and George told me it's blocked," said Harry, shaking his head. "Caved in or something."
"Oh . . ." said Sirius, frowning. "Well, I'll have a think and get back to —"
He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. He turned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.
"Sirius?" said Harry anxiously.
But he had vanished. Amara frowned in the flames, trying to see what was going on.
"Why did he — ?" began Harry but Amara suddenly gave a silent scream that came out as air as she saw what was in the fire. A stubby, short-fingered hand with ugly rings was now in the fire, groping to catch hold of something, just where Sirius' head had been moments before.
They ran for it: they practically flew across the common room and the four split into two at the staircases. Amara shut the door, still seeing the hand, and ran all the way up to her bed after Hermione and stayed there, heart racing, for the remainder of the night.