They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang — but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices — "Did you see it twitch?" "— and when he killed it — just like that!"
They were talking about the lesson, as though it had been some sort of spectacular show, Skylar had not thought that was a great lesson, yes they needed to know about the Unforgivable curses, and some like her did, what with her parents being Aurors, but to show them all that…
Harry didn't look very cheerful about the lesson and neither did it seem was Hermione.
"Hurry up," she said tensely to Harry and Ron.
"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.
"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville." Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.
"Neville?" Hermione said gently.
Neville looked around.
"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm — I'm starving, aren't you?"
"Neville, are you all right?" said Hermione.
"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner — I mean lesson — what's for eating?"
Ron gave Harry a startled look.
"Neville, you don't have to pretend that was a good lesson. That was frightening." Skylar said.
Neville looked at her meaningful expression and glanced to the side. He was spared from answering however as an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All four of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.
"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on… we can have a cup of tea…"
Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.
"You all right, are you, Potter?"
"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.
Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, but you've got to know. No point pretending… well… come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."
Neville looked pleadingly at Harry, Skylar, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, so Neville had no choice but to allow himself to be steered away, one of Moody's gnarled hands on his shoulder.
"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.
"I don't know," said Hermione, looking pensive.
Skylar simply turned off for the Great Hall.
"Sky?" Harry asked as they followed her.
"It's a long story, don't worry about it." She responded.
The three shared a look but the tone of her voice said they were not to ask.
"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to Harry. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did Avada Kedavra, the way that spider just died, just snuffed it right —"
But Ron fell suddenly silent at the look on Harry's face and didn't speak again until they reached the Great Hall, when he said he supposed they had better make a start on Professor Trelawney's predictions tonight, since they would take hours.
Hermione did not join in with Harry, Skylar and Ron's conversation during dinner, but ate furiously fast, and then left for the library again. Skylar, Harry and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and Harry, who had been thinking of nothing else all through dinner, now raised the subject of the Unforgivable Curses himself.
"Wouldn't Moody and Dumbledore be in trouble with the Ministry if they knew we'd seen the curses?" Harry asked as they approached the Fat Lady.
"Yeah, probably," said Ron. "But Dumbledore's always done things his way, hasn't he, and Moody's been getting in trouble for years, I reckon. Attacks first and asks questions later — look at his dustbins. Balderdash."
The Fat Lady swung forward to reveal the entrance hole, and they climbed into the Gryffindor common room, which was crowded and noisy.
"Besides, if Professor's Trewlaney's prediction last term is right, and You-Know-Who's going to come back stronger than ever, we might need it." Skylar said.
The two of them stared at her with wide eyes and their mouths hanging open. Skylar shrugged. It was true.
"Shall we get our Divination stuff, then?" said Harry, changing the topic.
"I s'pose," Ron groaned.
Skylar sat herself down in the common room to wait for the two boys to return. Meridiem came up to say hi and jumped into her lap purring and Skylar happily scratched her behind the ears. She had little homework so far but got on with what she had been given.
They both came back down a few moments later to tell Skylar that Neville was up in the dormitory and seemed a lot better. Apparently Moody had given him a Herbology book.
"Huh, he didn't seem the type." She muttered.
They sat and did their homework for about an hour within which Skylar made lots of progress, almost finishing, and the two boys made none. Despite this they'd littered the table with parchment pieces bearing sums and symbols.
"You two have barely done anything." Skylar said, her eyebrow raised.
"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said, staring down at a long list of calculations.
"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."
"What — make it up?"
"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.
"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter." He looked up at Harry. "You know her — just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up."
"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay… on Monday, I will be in danger of—er—burns."
"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, I'll … erm…"
"Lose a treasured possession," said Harry, who was flicking through Unfogging the Future for ideas.
"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of…erm… Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"
"Yeah… cool…" said Harry, scribbling it down, "because… Venus is in the twelfth house."
Skylar watched them both with an amused expression and her mouth hanging slightly open.
"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worse in a fight."
"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet."
"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight…"
They continued to make up predictions (which grew steadily more tragic) for another hour, while the common room around them slowly emptied as people went up to bed. Crookshanks wandered over to them, leapt lightly into an empty chair, and stared inscrutably at Harry, rather as Hermione might look if she knew they weren't doing their homework properly. Meridiem left Skylar's lap and hopped onto the chair with Crookshanks, licking the top of his head, to which he closed his eyes and let her proceed with.
As the room emptied, Nick, Fred and George were exposed sitting together against the opposite wall, heads together, quills out, poring over a single piece of parchment. It was most unusual to see Fred and George hidden away in a corner and working silently; they usually liked to be in the thick of things and the noisy centre of attention. Skylar raised an eyebrow and Nick looked up at her, from the two boys. He shook his head and gave his sister a serious look before returning to the twins. Skylar rose an eyebrow, well this wasn't weird. There was definitely something secretive about the way they were working on the piece of parchment. George shook his head at Fred, scratched out something with his quill, and said, in a very quiet voice that nevertheless carried across the almost deserted room, "No — that sounds like we're accusing him. Got to be careful…"
Then George looked over and saw Skylar, and Harry who had also noticed the twins, watching them. Harry grinned and quickly returned to his predictions, while Skylar sighed, shook her head and turned away as well.
She told them they shouldn't have gambled against Bagman, now it turned out Bagman had paid them in Leprechaun gold, which vanishes after a few days, and the two boys were fighting to get their money back.
Shortly after that, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and with Nick went off to bed. Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose contents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back, purring.
"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"
"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill. Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.
"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically as Crookshanks curled up in her lap.
"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.
"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.
"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff."
"Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.
"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.
"It was actually really funny to watch, Hermione." Skylar chuckled.
Harry laid down his quill too, having just finished predicting his own death by decapitation.
"What's in the box?" Ron asked, pointing at it.
"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron.
"Quick, those words are a good sign to run." Skylar said to the boys. They shared a look as Hermione took off the lid and showed them the contents. Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colours, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.
"'Spew'?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"
"Not spew," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."
"Never heard of it," said Ron.
"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."
"You really should have picked a better anagram." Skylar mumbled.
"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"
"Well — if you three join — four," said Hermione.
"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.
"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status — but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."
She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.
"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."
"Hermione — open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They like being enslaved!"
"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long-term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."
"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.
"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join — that buys a badge — and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron — I've got you a collecting tin upstairs — and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting. Skylar, you get to be Vice-President."
Skylar was gapping at Hermione as there was a pause. Hermione beamed at them, and Harry sat, torn between exasperation at Hermione and amusement at the look on Ron's face. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft tap, tap on the window. Harry looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.
"Hedwig!" he shouted, startling the three as he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window.
Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.
"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.
"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.
Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
The letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud:
Harry —
I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is the latest in a series of strange rumours that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore — they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is.
I'll be in touch soon. My best to Skylar, Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry.
Sirius
Harry looked up at Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him.
"He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?"
"Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed.
Skylar's forehead had furrowed, clearly something was very wrong, especially if Sirius was coming back where he could possibly be caught by the Ministry again.
"Harry — what's up?"
For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.
"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.
"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.
"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."
Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her out-stretched wing as she went.
"Harry," Hermione began, in a pacifying sort of voice.
"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning."
He left without another word.
"He does realise that Sirius wouldn't come just because his scar hurts, right?" Ron asked.
"Nope, but what worries me are these strange rumours Sirius mentioned." Skylar frowned.
"You haven't heard anything?" Hermione asked.
"Honestly my parents have been so absorbed with the Quidditch Cup and the Triwizard Tournament that even if they did know about it, I don't think it's at the front of their minds." Skylar confessed.
"What do you think the signs are?" Ron wondered.
"Clearly it's all bad…" Skylar muttered. "Maybe it's to do with what happened at the Cup, and Bartha Jorkins missing, and now Harry's weird dream… There hasn't exactly been much else, apart from Trewlaney's prediction half coming true and Wormtail escaping."
"You seriously believe old bug eyes?" Hermione demanded.
"Half of what she said was right Hermione, if we ignore that we could be worse off." Skylar believed.
They all glanced towards the staircase Harry had disappeared up.