XXV. Majestic
Having or showing impressive beauty or scale.
Harry doesn't have a clear idea of how he managed to get back into the Honeydukes' cellar, through the tunnel and into the castle once more, though he has a guess it has something to do with Jayla. But all he knows is that the return trip seems to take no time at all, and he hardly notices what he is doing because his head is still pounding with the conversation he just heard. Wondering why nobody ever told him? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr Weasley, Mr Darkmore, Cornelius Fudge… why hasn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Harry's parents died because their best friend betrayed them and killed his wife?
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Ron and Hermione watch Harry nervously throughout dinner with Jayla, trying to calm his seething muttering and feeding him as their friends dare not talk about what they overheard because Percy sits close by them. Jayla is in constant turmoil over what they heard at the Three Broomsticks and wonders what she should tell her parents once they arrive at the Darkmore Manor for the Yuletide holidays.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
When the Golden Quartet go upstairs to the crowded Common Room, they find Fred and George setting off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Harry didn't want the twins asking him whether he reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaking quietly up to the empty dormitory and heading straight for his bedside cabinet. Ron and Hermione stop Jayla from going to Harry's side in his time of solitude. Harry pushes his books aside and quickly finds what he is looking for - the leather-bound photo album Hagrid gave him two years ago, full of Wizard pictures of his parents. Harry sits on his bed, drawing the hangings around him, wanting to be alone, and starts turning the pages, searching, until… he stops on a picture of his parents' wedding day. His Father is waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry inherited standing up in all directions. There is his Mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his Dad. And there… that must be him. Their best man… Harry never gave him much thought before.
Harry would never have guessed it was Black in the old photograph if he didn't know it was the same person. His face isn't sunken and waxy but handsome, full of laughter. He wonders if Black was already working for Voldemort when the picture was taken. Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realise he is facing twelve years in Azkaban, which will make him unrecognisable? But the Dementors don't affect him, Harry ponders, staring into the handsome, laughing face. "He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close," Harry slams the album shut, reaching over and stuffing it back into his cabinet before taking off his robes and glasses and getting into bed, ensuring the hangings hide him from view.
"Harry?" He hears his best friend's voice as the dormitory's door opens, but Harry lies still, pretending to be asleep as he hears Ron leave again and roll over on his back, eyes wide open. A fierce hatred such as he has never known before courses through the boy like poison. Harry can see Black laughing at him through the darkness as though somebody pasted the picture from the album over his eyes. He watches as though someone is playing him a piece of film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew (who resembles Neville) into a thousand pieces before killing his wife (who reminds him of Jayla). He can hear a low, excited muttering as if Black's voice is in the back of his mind, though he doesn't remember ever hearing his voice before.
"It has happened, my Lord… the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper…" And then comes another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh Harry hears inside his head whenever the Dementors draw near…
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
"Harry, you - you look terrible," Ron says the next day, looking at his best friend who didn't get any sleep until daybreak and woke to find the dormitory deserted, so he gets dressed and went down the spiral staircase to the empty Common Room except for Ron, who sits eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach, and Hermione, who spreads her homework over three tables, and Jayla, who sits by the fire reading a book he can't see the title of.
"Where is everyone?" Harry asks, looking around.
"Waiting to leave. It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" He tells him, watching his best friend closely.
"We packed everything for you, so we should get going, or we'll miss the train back to London." Jayla jumps from her armchair and grabs her small black shoulder bag along with her friends grabbing their bags, heading for the Hogwarts Express.
"I was going to come and wake you up in a minute," Ron remarks, rushing out of the portrait hole, not wanting to miss the train.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The Golden Quartet liven up once they board the Hogwarts Express, trying to put everything that has happened behind them. Harry slumps into the seat next to the window, watching the snow falling outside. Crookshanks and Hades spread out by the girls like large furry rugs. "You really don't look well, you know," Hermione remarks, peering anxiously into his face.
"I'm fine," Harry answers, wanting to be left alone to his dark thoughts.
"Harry, listen," Jayla says, exchanging looks with Ron and Hermione, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."
"Like what?" He asks, looking at his longtime crush.
"Like trying to go after Black," Ron replies sharply, and Harry can tell his friends have rehearsed the conversation while he was asleep, so he doesn't say anything.
"You won't, will you, Harry?" Hermione asks, growing worried about their friend.
"Because Black's not worth dying for," Ron warns him, and Harry looks at them. They don't seem to understand at all.
"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Harry questions, and his friends shake their heads, 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!" Hermione argues, looking stricken, and Jayla strokes Harry's arm, trying to comfort him. "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." He snaps, growing angry, but Jayla's fingers draw random shapes on his arm to distract him a little.
"So what are you saying?" Ron asks, looking very tense. "You want to - to kill Black or something?"
"Don't be silly," Jayla fake laughs in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?" Again, Harry doesn't answer. He doesn't know what he wants to do. All he knows is that the idea of doing nothing while Black is at liberty is almost more than he can stand.
"I think everyone in Slytherin knows," Harry admits abruptly. "Remember what Goyle said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself… I'd want revenge.'"
"You're going to take Goyle's advice instead of ours?" Ron questions 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." Jayla quietly scoffs and pauses, her mind at work. "That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Harry, he killed his wife for no reason, but because she caught him, he's dangerous -."
"Goyle's Dad must have told him," He muses, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle -."
"Say You-Know-Who, will you?" The redhead interjects angrily, hating the name.
"- so obviously, everyone in Slytherin knows Black was working for Voldemort -." Jayla rolls her eyes at the raven-haired boy.
"- and they'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip, they're just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch." Ron reasons, trying to stop Harry's busy mind from spiralling.
"Harry, please," Hermione begs, her eyes 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 want 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," Harry reminds her bitterly, and there is a silence in the compartment, in which Crookshanks stretches luxuriously, flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivers.
"Look," Jayla says, needing to change the subject before she says something she shouldn't, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! We're going to spend it at my house! We don't have to worry about Black. Just enjoy it, think of nothing else, please. And even better news for you. Draco and my Aunt Cissa are going to her sisters for Christmas."
"She's right, Harry," Hermione agrees, growing mildly excited to see the Darkmore Manor for the first time.
"And we don't have to deal with the Malfoys," Ron grins, trying to cheer up their friends and earning himself a hit from Jayla for being rude about her relatives.
"Yeah, I suppose. I wish I could ask Hagrid why he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!" Harry grumbles, growing ever sour about the thoughts of Sirius Black and his revenge.
"Please stop, Harry," Jayla pleads, moving Hades into her lap. "Let's play a game, we still have some time before we arrive in London."
"Yes, let's play a game, what do you want to play, Harry?" Ron asks his best friend.
"Okay," Harry agrees begrudgingly, slumping in his seat, and Hades moves from his owner's lap to the boy's, trying to cheer him up.
"It's okay, Harry, Siri is nice," Hades purrs, rubbing against his chest, and Jayla is glad no one can understand her precious cat, though she wonders where she met Sirius Black.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The Hogwarts Express arrives in London, and the Golden Quartet steps off, seeing the frost platform with some family members waiting in the freezing cold weather. Jayla looks around, putting her white cotton jumper over her blue and white polka-dot dress, when she hears someone shouting her name. "Jayjay!" She hears her brother and turns to see her brother in his three-piece suit running towards her with her little sister not far behind.
"Oh, I've missed you!" Jayla smiles, bringing her siblings into a giant hug as her parents step towards the group of children.
"Hello, Mr Darkmore, Mrs Darkmore," Hermione greets them, waving at them and nudging the boys to do the same.
"Hello, children," The Darkmores greet them, smiling friendlyly at their oldest daughter's friends.
"Thanks for having us," Ron smiles politely and spots his family walking towards them.
"Yeah, thank you," Harry agrees and sees the Weasley family.
"Sophia," Mrs Weasley gushes, bringing the younger blond woman into a hug. "Thank you for taking Ron. Are we still on for Christmas shopping?"
"Of course," Sophia agrees, surprising Ron, who hoped to escape his snobby older brother, Percy.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Jayla's friends marvel as they drive out of London in the Darkmore family car, heading for the Darkmore Manor in Bath, Somerset. "I can't believe you have your own car and driver," Ron marvels, looking out the window as it grows darker.
"We used to have a carriage, but it drew too much attention," Mason jokes, making Jayla's friends stare in shock.
"Leave them alone, Mase," Jayla scolds her younger brother. "He's joking. We did many years ago when that was the norm."
"How much longer?" Hermione wonders, sleeping on her mind.
"Not long, Miss Granger," Goodman informs her, driving calmly along the motorway in the dark.
"What's your house like?" Harry asks, looking at his crush and remembers Ron and Hermione had talked about being there before, though they seem to have forgotten. "How come Ron and Hermione don't remember being at yours?"
"Oh, that must be the Magic of the forest," Jayla informs him. "It's said that outsiders don't remember ever coming to Darkmore Manor. Only those who live within the grounds can remember."
"I see. I vaguely remember spending time over the summer, but it's blurry." Ron agrees, and they come off the motorway onto a country road that seems overgrown and deserted.
"I remember the first time I left," Sophia muses, looking out the window with a sleeping Yazmin on her lap. "It was when I returned from America, and we'd just got married. I went shopping at the nearby town and couldn't find my way home for a few hours."
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The Darkmore family and their guests arrive, and Jayla's friends look at the large Manor with its white stone and brick appearance and black wood and glass doors lit with giant black sconces. Daniel opens the door, letting the sleepy teens inside before saying, "Jayla, show them to the guest rooms," and leaves to help Sophia out of the car with a slumbering Yazmin. Mason follows his big sister and her friends through the foyer towards the back stairs, where a range of moving portraits and Wizard photographs line the walls.
"Is this your family?" Harry asks, looking at them and seeing some blank spots with missing pictures.
"Most of them," Mason answers, knowing why there are blank spaces on the wall. "We took some of the pictures of Uncle Luci down. Mama was really upset about him going to Azkaban Prison."
"We've only got one guest room. Harry and Ron will have to share," Jayla informs the boys, who look at her when they come to a door; she opens it, seeing a lightish room with a dark grey feature wall and two beds. "You didn't think you'd have to share a bed, did you?" She muses, looking at the boys, who shake their heads.
"Where am I sleeping?" Hermione asks, and Jayla smiles.
"With me. My room got redecorated while I was at school," The Darkmore Heiress smiles, taking her best friend's hand. "Mason, show them around, then go to bed." She orders her brother before running down the hallway, leaving the boys alone.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
As she opens the door to see a brand new room, Jayla stops in front of her bedroom door, not knowing what to expect. The bright colours are gone, replaced by calmer blue, bronze, pink, white and black tones across the room. "Woah!" The girls hear as they turn around to see Ron and Harry standing behind them, glancing into the bedroom with the four-poster bed, couch, new balcony and desk.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione demands, putting her hands on her hips and staring at them.
"Mason said the guest bathrooms were down here somewhere…" Harry mutters, smiling sheepishly.
"I found you!" Mason exclaims, running up to them and seeing his big sister with her friends glaring at him. "Uh oh…"
"Yeah, 'uh oh', why?" Jayla asks, waving at Harry and Ron.
"It was just a laugh," He pouts.
"Show them around, now. Or I tell Dad," She warns him before entering the room. "Night boys." She waves and closes the door, getting ready for bed and folding the sofa bed for Hermione before they sleep.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The following day, the guests of the Darkmores head downstairs in their pyjamas for breakfast, wondering where they need to go. When they hear a crash from another room followed by a girlish scream, they run toward the sound and find themselves in the dining room with the Darkmore family sitting around the table. "Morning, boys, Hermione," Daniel greets them as if nothing is wrong, surprising the three teens at the man in his pyjamas and the rest of the family going for a lazy day.
"Who screamed?" Ron asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Me!" Yazmin yells, glaring at her brother, who just smirks.
"What happened?" Hermione asks, joining the family at the table, sitting next to Jayla.
"Mason," The Darkmore family answers, surprising Harry as Hermione and Ron laugh.
"Just wait till next year. He's coming to Hogwarts," Jayla grumbles, rolling up her long-sleeved blue fluffy pyjama top that matches her pants. "We'll have another prankster."
"I hope he doesn't team up with Fred and George," Ron gulps, thinking about more pranks directed at him.
"Good morning!" Flora smiles, stepping into the room, surprising Harry at the happy House-elf dressed in a pink bow wrapped around her large pointed ears and a yellow dress with a bright smile. "Breakfast is ready!" She announces before bowls and plates filled with all types of food land on the table after flying out from the kitchen with a clip of the House-elf's fingers. "Please enjoy." Everyone tucks into the food, and Harry is even more surprised when Flora sits next to him, but he smiles, glad to know that his crush and her family treat the seemingly sweet and kind House-elf like family. What surprises him even more as the last dish comes flying out of the kitchen, a familiar face joins them.
"Dobby?!" Harry exclaims, making the younger Darkmores jump and look at the raven-haired boy.
"I forgot you know, Dobby, Harry," Daniel comments, smiling as Dobby happily, though rather timidly, joins them at the table for breakfast.
"Dobby is happy to see you, Harry Potter. Dobby was welcomed to join the Darkmore family and dear Flora again," Dobby explains with a big, goofy smile.
"I'm glad to hear it, Dobby," Harry smiles, enjoying his breakfast.
"What are we doing today, Mummy?" Yazmin asks, biting into the chocolate-covered toast that spreads around her mouth.
"We are going to decorate the house. And tomorrow, we'll go Christmas shopping with the Weasleys." Sophia informs the children, enjoying her cinnamon porridge.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Throughout the day, the Darkmore family and their guests decorate the Manor; Harry enjoys his time with his friends and Jayla's family, forgetting about Sirius Black. The day soon ends, and they finish decorating the 10-foot-tall Christmas tree with Yazmin being lifted by Daniel on a ladder, putting on a giant silver glittering star. "TA-DA!" Yazmin shouts excitedly as she's lowered to the floor.
"Looks good," Sophia smiles, walking into the room with a tray of steaming hot chocolate for everyone and setting it down on the coffee table, letting everyone take a cup before sitting on the couch to enjoy the Christmas decorations around them.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The time for Christmas shopping arrives, and the Darkmore family and their guests arrive in Diagon Alley, walking from the car on the busy London street in the early morning. The streets of Diagon Alley are just as busy with the Yuletide holiday coming closer with people shopping for gifts. "Daniel!" They hear Mr Weasley shout from down the street, making Mr Darkmore turn to see the red-headed man and his large family. The Darkmores and guests walk over, joining them for their quick shopping trip. Mrs Weasley zeroes in on Harry, checking up on him and smiling, seeing how happy he is, and they begin walking, looking around at all the shops after grabbing some money.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Christmas Day finally arrives, and everything is looking up for everyone within the Manor; even Scabbers pokes his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket, sniffing hopefully at the glorious smells coming from the kitchen by the end of Christmas Eve. Harry is more excited about this than any before that he can remember, and it seems Ron is too, as he wakes up early, throwing his pillow at his best friend, waking the raven-haired boy with a start. "Oy! Presents!" Ron declares when they hear a loud crashing sound coming from outside their door, followed by Christmas carols at a deafening volume.
"Mason!" He hears Jayla shout over the music. "One day a YEAR! Is that too much to ask!" Harry gets up, grabs his robe after placing his glasses on and sees Ron doing the same before heading outside to see Jayla and Hermione in their pyjamas and robes, too.
"What's going on?" He asks, looking at Mason and then the girls.
"I only threw a Dungbomb into the playroom and it set off the record player," Mason shrugs his shoulders with a mischievous smirk.
"I hid my presents in there!" Jayla grumbles, making them look at her in surprise.
"Oh no!" He cries, running off, heading for the playroom.
"I thought they were under your bed?" Hermione finally questions, looking at her best friend.
"Oh, I did," Jayla smirks, surprising the boy. "So, who is ready for breakfast?" She looks at her friends before walking off down the hallway.
"I know why I don't want to get on her bad side," Harry mutters, and his friends silently agree.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The Darkmore family and guests finish their breakfast before heading into the living room with the giant Christmas tree with a large group of presents wrapped in black wrapping paper and silver and gold ribbons for everyone. They sit around on the couches, all in their pyjamas with mugs of hot cranberry punch, settling into the Christmas spirit, and Flora and Dobby enter, sitting with them before they begin opening presents. "Who would like to go first?" Sophia asks, looking at the children. Ron raises his hand eagerly, making the others snicker, and he goes as red as his hair.
"You first, then, Ron," Daniel agrees, and the young Weasley boy grabs all the presents with his name on them, placing the gifts by his side before ripping into the wrapping paper.
"Another jumper from Mum…" Ron smiles stiffly. "Maroon again…"
"Let me see," Sophia smiles, and he hands over the jumper. "What colour do you like?"
"I… uh… don't know… I guess orange, like the Chudley Cannons," He replies and looks in wonder when the colour of the sweater changes to bright orange. "Woah! Thanks!" He takes it and puts it on, marvelling at it.
"Well, open the other ones," Jayla encourages him, wanting to see if he likes his gifts, and he quickly opens them, making comments every so often as he looks at them. Harry got him a brown leather, gold rectangular wrist water that Ron put on immediately, checking it out with glee. The next present he opens is from the Darkmore family, and it is a grey-furred baby Niffler. Ron is happy to accept, though he worries about how Scabbers will react to the new pet. After that, Ron opens a gift from Hermione, getting confused, looking at the black iron lantern with purple glass.
"It's a security lantern. I remember you didn't feel safe sleeping most nights after Sirius Black attacked the Fat Lady," Hermione explains her gift.
"Thanks," Ron smiles, placing the lantern by his side, and he opens the last of his presents, an expensive new quill set with different coloured inks from Jayla.
"Who's next?" Daniel asks, looking at them, and Hermione offers, taking her presents from under the tree. The first gift she opens is from Harry, a set of scented tea light candles she looked at over the summer before they left for Hogwarts. The next one was from Jayla, and it has different scented inks.
"So you can enjoy your note-taking more than you already do," Jayla jokes, making the others laugh, and Hermione smiles at her best friend, hugging her. From Ron, Hermione gets a hot chocolate gift basket with different toppings and chocolate flavours. She also got a gift from the Darkmore family, a gorgeous vintage diamond butterfly brooch.
"Oh! I can't take this!" Hermione exclaims, looking at the beautiful brooch.
"Of course you can. It's just collecting dust," Sophia assures the young teenage girl. "It was my grandmother's. She never wore it. My grandfather gave it to her for their 3rd wedding anniversary. It should be worn by someone who will love it."
"Thank you," She smiles sweetly, pinning the brooch on her robe and showing it to Jayla, who hugs her best friend.
"My turn, my turn," Jayla beams, running to the Christmas tree, taking the pile of gifts and placing them on the floor before tearing into them excitedly. The first one is from her Mother, a pretty pink floral dress that is more her style. "I don't have to wear this to the Ministry Christmas party, do I?" She looks at her Mum.
"No, we're having a New Year's Eve party here instead this year," Daniel informs her, exciting the guests.
"Sweet," Ron and Harry whisper excitedly, and Hermione looks worried, unsure what she will wear. Jayla assures her friend, letting her borrow one of her dresses that will look good on her, and she continues opening her gifts; the next one is from Ron, a map of the Shire from her favourite books, and she nearly hugs the redhead. After that, Jayla opens Hermione's gift, pastel notebooks and highlighters, surprising the girl, though the young Heiress likes them very much. Jayla opens the present from her Dad, a red beaded bracelet she puts on, admiring the colour, and Harry jokes about matching. Yazmin's gift is next, a tiny infinity sign around a heart necklace, and Jayla puts it on, making the small girl smile at her big sister.
"I'm never taking this off," Jayla promises and opens the next gift, a white photo frame with her star sign inside from her brother, Mason. Her last one is from Harry, another book, the complete Sherlock Holmes book. "You have to read this to me later." She jokingly orders Harry, and he happily agrees. The last present is from someone special, letting everyone know who it is from. Jayla's boyfriend, though her friends still don't know the secret identity of the boyfriend and see the cute snow globe of the New York skyline.
Next is Yazmin, the little girl who jumps from the couch beside her Mother and drags her presents with the help of her Dad, as some are too big for her. The first is from her big sister, Jayla, who got her different dresses to dress up in, and Yazmin smiles brightly, looking at the different styles and colours, wanting to try them on. The next gift is from her Mother, the same style of dress as her sister, excited to match with her big sister whom she adores. The following two gifts are a matching set, as Daniel got Yazmin a new doll house after Mason accidentally set her old one on fire with one of his experiments. The new doll house looks similar to the Darkmore Manor, and the other present from Mason is a doll family like theirs. The young girl is happy and plans to keep the dollhouse out of the playroom from now on.
After Yazmin, Harry takes his turn opening his presents and receives a scarlet jumper with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front from Mrs Weasley, a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake and a box of nut brittle he decides to share with everyone. The next gift is from Hermione; she gifted him a handmade scrapbook of Muggle and Wizard photos of the Golden Quartet, Hedwig and their friends with little captions. "Jayla helped me," Hermione comments, smiling. The next gift is from Jayla, some cologne the young Heiress relishes the smell of, and he tries some on, enjoying the musky with a hint of spice in the scent that isn't overpowering. The gift from the Darkmores surprises him as he looks at the vintage record player.
"It works around Magic, Harry. You can keep it at Hogwarts," Sophia suggests. "Keep it away from those Muggle relatives of yours."
"Thank you, I will," Harry agrees, not wanting his cousin Dudley to get his meaty hands on it and possibly break it out of spite. The last one is from Ron, a movie night gift basket with different types of popcorn and sweets. "Definitely putting this to good use later." He jokes as Mason told them earlier about watching Christmas movies after dinner. As Harry moves the ripped wrapping paper aside, helping Flora put it in the bin, he sees a thin package underneath.
"What's that?" Ron questions, looking over at the gift with a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hand that goes with his former maroon jumper.
"Dunno…" Harry rips the parcel open and gasps as a gleaming broomstick rolls onto the tiled floor. Everyone drops what they are holding and jumps up for a closer look.
"I don't believe it," Jayla gasps. It is a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harry went to see daily in Diagon Alley. Its handle glitters as he picks it up, but he lets go, feeling it vibrating in his hand, and it hangs in mid-air, unsupported, at precisely the right height for him to mount it. His eyes move from the golden registration number at the top of the handle to the ideally smooth, streamlined birch twigs that make up the tail.
"Who sent it to you?" Mason asks in a hushed voice.
"Look and see if there's a card," Harry suggests, and Ron rips apart the Firebolt's wrappings.
"Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?" Ron wonders aloud.
"Well," He says, feeling stunned. "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys."
"I bet it was Dumbledore," The redhead suggests, now walking around the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously…"
"That was my Dad's, though," Harry argues.
"You have an Invisibility Cloak?!" Mason beams, getting so many pranking ideas.
"No!" The Darkmores shout.
"Yeah, 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 -." Harry argues.
"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" Ron reasons. "In case some git like Malfoy - no offence - said it was favouritism. Hey, Harry -." Ron gives a tremendous whooping laugh. "Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"
"I can't believe this," Jayla mutters, a little jealous.
"I can't believe this," Harry mutters, running a hand along the Firebolt while Ron sinks onto the couch next to Harry again, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy. "Who -?"
"I know," Ron beams, controlling himself a little. "I know who it could've been - Lupin!"
"What?" Hermione questions, making Harry laugh himself. "Lupin?"
"Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes," Harry argues, and Sophia looks at her husband, growing worried.
"Yeah, but he likes you," Ron reminds him. "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?" He asks. "He was ill when Jayla and I were playing in that match."
"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing," The youngest Weasley boy argues, and Jayla glances at Hermione, both having a piece clicking in their head. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Snape, remember?" Harry frowns at Ron.
"I can't see Lupin affording something like this," Jayla jumps in, defending the man when Crookshanks strolls into the room with Hades at his side, both seeming in the Christmas spirit with tinsel around their necks, though the ginger cat seems evermore grumpy.
"Don't let him in here!" Ron panics, snatching Scabbers from his lap and stowing him in his pyjama pocket with the baby Niffler, snoozing happily. The cats don't listen as they enter the room, purring at their owner's feet, minding their business.
"Is there anything to say who it is?" Daniel asks, wondering who could afford the Firebolt and send it to the boy.
"No, there wasn't a card or anything with it," Harry answers, and to no one's surprise, the adults don't appear excited or intrigued by the news.
"What's the matter, Dad?" Jayla asks him, though she, too, is suspicious of the gift from no one.
"I don't know," He answers, thinking about something, but doesn't act on it immediately, not wanting to ruin the merry mood.
"This is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?" Hermione asks slowly, looking at the Firebolt.
"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," Ron sighs exasperatedly.
"So it must've been really expensive…" She reasons, thinking the same as the adults.
"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," He agrees happily.
"Well… who'd send Harry something as expensive as that and not even tell him they'd sent it?" Jayla sides with her friend, growing worried for the raven-haired teen.
"Who cares?" The redhead replies impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"
"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" Sophia declares, making the teens look at her.
"What'd you think Harry's going to do with it - sweep the floor?" Mason questions, earning a stern look from his Mother and before she can verbally answer, Crookshanks springs from the floor, right at Ron's chest.
"GET - HIM - OUT - OF - HERE!" Ron bellows as the ginger cat claws rip his pyjamas, Scabbers attempts a wild escape over his shoulder, and the baby Niffler jumps ship, hiding inside his robes. Ron seizes Scabbers by the tail and aims a misjudged kick at Crookshanks, which hits the coffee table, almost knocking it over and causing Ron to hop on the spot, howling with pain. Crookshank's fur suddenly stands on end. A shrill, tinny whistling fills the Manor. The Pocket Sneakoscope dislodges from Harry's pocket, which he forgot to take out one night, whirls and gleams on the floor.
"I forgot about that!" Harry shouts, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I hardly ever wear this robe…" The Sneakoscope whirls and whistles in his palm. Crookshanks hisses and spits at it.
"You'd better take him out of here, Hermione," Daniel suggests. "You too, Jayla." The girls comply, pick up their cats and leave the room. Crookshanks' yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron. Harry stuffs the Sneakoscope back inside his robe pocket, and all that can be heard now is Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers huddles in Ron's hands. It has been a while since Harry has seen him out of Ron's pocket, and he is unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, is now very skinny with patches of fur seeming to be falling out, too.
"He's ugly," Yazmin says simply.
"It's stress," Ron replies, defending his pet. "He'd be fine if those stupid great furballs left him alone!" But Harry remembers what the woman at the Magical Menagerie said about rats only living three years and can't help feeling that he is reaching the end of his life unless Scabbers has powers he has never revealed. And despite Ron's frequent complaints about Scabbers being boring and useless, he is sure Ron will be miserable if Scabbers dies, though his new Niffler, Fee, might help pick up the pieces. The girls return without their cats. Hermione is furious with Ron for trying to kick Crookshanks, and Ron is still fuming about his fresh attempt to eat Scabbers.
Everyone goes back to opening their presents. Mason goes next as the last of the children; the first gift is from his Father, and he receives a new orange bike. He wants to ride around the Manor, but with one look from his Mother, it flies out of the room. The next is a three-piece suit he will wear from Sophia for the New Year's Eve party. Jayla gets him a stack of books, which confuses everyone momentarily. She taps on the top, and a draw pops out. "To keep in your dorm next year," Jayla whispers, making her little brother grin. The last present is from Yazmin, and it's a Muggle Gameboy with a few games for him to play when he's banned from the playroom.
Finally, it comes to the parents. Sophia goes first, picking one at random, and it's from Yazmin, who made her a photo frame with a sweet description of her, moving her to tears, hugging her youngest child in her arms. Mason gets his mothers a beauty gift basket, joking that she needs a break from her children and their troublesome ways. Jayla gets Sophia a gold and glass jewellery box that went with Daniel's gift, a set of sapphire and gold necklaces, a bracelet and earrings.
Lastly, Daniel opens the gift from Mason, a pair of infinity cufflinks he plans to wear for the New Year's Eve party. Yazmin gets him a mug with a family joke written on the side, making her older siblings jokingly grumble. His wife gives him a whiskey glasses set that he will keep in his office at home, where he has only his best friends and family inside. Daniel receives a new black leather briefcase with an undetectable extension charm on it with the help of his wife, as the teens still can't use Magic outside of school.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Harry doesn't wish to leave the Darkmore Manor as the Christmas holiday ends, even though at the New Year's Eve party, Malfoy seems like a different person away from his cronies; it doesn't change Harry and Ron's minds. Hermione gets an apology, which surprises everyone, even Draco, but the Golden Quartet sits on the Hogwarts Express as they leave Platform 9 and ¾ on their way to school again. Sophia and Daniel offer the Potter boy a place in their house over the summer whenever he needs to escape his Muggle guardians. Harry stays quiet the whole journey, coming back to thinking about Sirius Black and revenge but also about the Firebolt in his trunk from someone anonymous that is about to cause him some trouble like every year.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The first thing the Golden Quartet do when they return to Hogwarts is go to Hagrid's hut in the snow, and Ron knocks, but there is no answer. "He's not out, is he?" Hermione wonders, shivering under her cloak as it is still quite cold. Ron places his ear to the door, hearing something.
"There's a weird noise," Ron informs them.
"Listen - it's Fang," Jayla tells them, hearing his whining, but there is something else as Harry and Hermione put their ears to the door, too. From inside the cabin comes a series of low, throbbing moans.
"Think we'd better go and get someone?" He questions nervously.
"Hagrid!" Harry calls, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?" There is a sound of heavy footsteps, and the door creaks open. Hagrid stands there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather waistcoat.
"Yeh've heard!" Hagrid bellows and flings himself onto Harry's neck. Hagrid being at least twice the size of an ordinary man, this is no laughing matter. Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, is rescued by his friends, who each seize Hagrid under an arm and heave him with Harry's help back into the cabin. Hagrid allows himself to be steered into a chair and slumps over the table, sobbing uncontrollably; his face glazes with tears which drip down into his tangled beard.
"Hagrid, what is it?" Hermione asks, aghast. Harry spots an official-looking letter lying open on the table.
"What's this, Hagrid?" Harry asks, making the half-giant sob redoubled, but he shoves the letter towards him, who picks it up and reads it aloud for the others.
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!" Ron exclaims, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder, but Hagrid continues to sob and waves 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…
A list of the school governors follows, one being Sophia Darkmore, though Harry remembers her idea when they were at the Manor for Christmas. "Oh," Ron mutters. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off -."
"Oh, Hagrid," Jayla cries, hanging her head as tears fall down her face. "This is all my fault." Harry wraps his arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her.
"It's not," Hagrid assures her. "Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" He chokes, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in ger interestin' creatures!" A sudden sound comes from the corner of Hagrid's cabin, making the Golden Quartet whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff is lying in the corner, chomping on something, oozing blood all over the floor. "I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" He chokes. "All on his own! At Christmas!" Harry, Ron and Hermione look at each other, never seeing eye to eye with Hagrid and Jayla about what he calls 'interesting creatures' and what other people call 'terrifying monsters'. On the other hand, there doesn't seem to be any particular harm in Buckbeak. In fact, by Hagrid's usual standards, he is positively cute even if he accidentally scarred Jayla.
"You'll have to put up a good strong defence, Hagrid," Hermione reasons, 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!" The half-giant sobs. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Or used to be! Scared o' him! Even from Azkaban! An' if I lose the case, Buckbeak -." Hagrid draws his finger swiftly across his throat, then gives a great wail and lurches forward, his face in his arms.
"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" Harry asks.
"He's done more'n enough fer me already," Hagrid groans. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around -." Ron, Jayla and Hermione glance at Harry expecting him to start berating Hagrid for not telling him the truth about Black. But Harry can't bring himself to do it, not now he sees the kind half-giant so miserable and scared.
"Listen, Hagrid," He says, "you can't give up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defence. You can call us as witnesses -."
"I'm sure we've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting," Hermione voices thoughtfully, "where the Hippogriff got off. Me and Jayla can look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened." Hagrid howls still more loudly. The others look at Ron to help them.
"Er - shall I make a cup of tea?" Ron suggests, making Harry stare at him. "It's what my Mum does whenever someone's upset." He mutters, shrugging.
At last, after many more assurances of help from the Golden Quartet and a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blows his nose on a tablecloth-size handkerchief and says, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together…" Fang timidly ventures out from under the table and lays his head on Hagrid's knee. "I've not bin meself lately," He says, stroking the boarhound with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes -."
"We do like them!" Jayla lies a little.
"Yeah, they're great!" Ron agrees, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er - how are the Flobberworms?"
"Dead," Hagrid replies gloomily. "Too much lettuce."
"Oh, no!" He exclaims, his lip twitching.
"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," The half-giant says, with a sudden suffer. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban -." He falls silent, gulping his tea. The Golden Quartet watches him breathlessly, never hearing Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before.
"Is it awful in there, Hagrid?" Hermione asks timidly after a brief pause.
"Yeh've no idea," Hagrid says 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 Norbet go… I mean Norberta…" His eyes fill with tears, thinking of the baby dragon. "Yeh can' remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' 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!" Jayla argues, making him snort.
"Think that matters to me? 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 goes quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. "Though o' jus' letting Buckbean go…" He says quietly. "... 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 looks up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Though far from fun, the trip to Hagrid's nevertheless has the effect Ron and Hermione hoped for, and Jayla feels even more guilty, planning an escape for the poor Hippogriff. Though Harry has by no means forgotten about Black, he can't brood constantly on revenge if he wants to help Hagrid win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The Golden Quartet go to the library the next day and returns to the empty Common Room the weekend before classes begin, laden with books which might help prepare a good defence for Buckbeak. The four of them sit in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they run across something relevant. "Here's something… there was a case in 1722… but the Hippogriff was convicted - urgh, 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…"
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The welcome back feast for everyone who comes back from the Christmas holidays, and Professor Trelawney behaves almost normally until the end of the dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with food and still wearing their cracker hats left over from the Christmas feast, Harry and Ron get up first from the table, and she shrieks loudly. "My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"
"Dunno!" Ron answers, looking uneasily at Harry.
"I doubt it will make much difference," Professor McGonagall says coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall." Even Ron laughs, and Professor Trelawney looks highly affronted.
"Coming?" Harry asks, looking at Hermione and Jayla.
"No," Hermione mutters. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."
"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes," Ron yawns as they make their way into the Entrance Hall, which is utterly devoid of mad axe-men.
"Boo!" Jayla shouts, jumping out of the Great Hall, scaring the boys.
"Jayla!" Harry shouts, making her laugh and wrapping her arms around their shoulders, walking back to the Common Room.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
When they reach the portrait hole, they find Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas party with a couple of monks, several previous Headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushes his visor and toasts them with a flagon of mead. "Merry - hic - New Year! Password?"
"Scurvy cur," Ron answers.
"And the same to you, sir!" Sir Cadogan roars as the painting swings forward to allow them entrance. Harry goes straight up to his dormitory, collecting his Firebolt and Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione gave him for his birthday. And brings them downstairs and tries to find something to do to the Firebolt; however, there are no bent twigs to clip, and the handle is so shiny already it seems pointless to polish it. He and Ron simply sit admiring it from every angle. Jayla sits peacefully in her armchair with a book as the fire roars until the portrait hole opens, and Hermione steps in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.
Though the Professor is the Head of Gryffindor House, Harry has only seen McGonagall in the Common Room once before, and that has been to make a very grave announcement. The boys and Jayla stare at her, both holding the Firebolt. Hermione walks around them, sitting with Jayla, picking the book from her hands and beginning to read aloud to hide herself. "So that's it, is it?" Professor McGonagall asks 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. And I was reminded of a letter I received from Mrs Darkmore." The boys look around at Hermione and Jayla. They can see the brunette's forehead reddening over the top of Jayla's book. "May I?" She orders but doesn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She scrutinises it from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No," Harry answers blankly.
"I see…" Professor McGonagall muses. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."
"W-What?" He stutters in shock, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"
"It will need to be checked for jinxes," She informs him. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down -."
"Strip it down?" Ron repeats in horror as though she's gone mad.
"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," The Deputy Headmistress assures them. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jink-free."
"There's nothing wrong with it!" Harry argues, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor -."
"You can't know that, Potter," Professor McGonagall replies 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." She turns on her heel and carries the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closes behind her. Harry stands staring after the Professor, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounds on Hermione.
"What did you go running to McGonagall for?" Hermione throws the book to Jayla, still pink in the face, but stands up and faces him defiantly.
"Because I thought - and Professor McGonagall and Mrs Darkmore agree with me - that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!" Hermione snaps and storms off, leaving them quiet.
"Have you ever noticed that Ron always starts a fight with Hermione?" Jayla remarks, getting up with her book, following her best friend up in their dorm, crying on her bed, and clutching Crookshanks.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Harry knows that Hermione and Mrs Darkmore mean well, but it doesn't stop him from being angry with them a little. He was the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short days, and now, because of their interference, he doesn't know whether he will ever see it again. He is positive that there is nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state will it be in once it has been subjected to all kinds of anti-jinx tests?
Ron is furious with Hermione, too. As far as he is concerned, the stripping-down of a brand new Firebolt is nothing less than criminal damage, and he gets into heated arguments with Jayla as she defends her best friend.
Hermione, who remains convinced that she acted for the best, starts to avoid the Common Room with Jayla at her side constantly and hugs her whenever she cries because of the boys and their mean words and actions towards her for trying to protect Harry.
Harry and Ron suppose she has taken refuge in the library with Jayla and don't try to persuade her to return. Not knowing Jayla is sometimes spending secret moments together with her boyfriend, Cedric Diggory.
Wood soon seeks Harry out on the night before classes start. "Had a good Christmas?" He asks, and then, without waiting for an answer, he lowers his voice and says, "I've been doing some thinking over Christmas, Harry. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one… I mean… we can't afford you to - well -." Wood breaks off, looking awkward.
"I'm working on it," Harry assures him quickly. "Professor Lupin said he'd train me to ward the Dementors off. We should be starting this week; he said he'd have time after Christmas."
"Ah," Oliver marvels, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case - I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Harry. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"
"No," Harry answers.
"What! You'd better get a move on, you know - you can't ride that Shooting Star against Ravenclaw!" He yelps, his dreams of winning the House Cup disappearing.
"He got a Firebolt for Christmas," Ron informs the Quidditch team Captain.
"A Firebolt? No! Seriously? A - A real Firebolt?" Wood exclaims, smiling from ear to ear.
"Don't get excited, Oliver," Harry tells him gloomily. "I haven't got it any more. It was confiscated." And he explains all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.
"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?" He questions, frowning.
"Sirius Black," The raven-haired boy answers wearily. "He's supposed to be after me. So McGonagall reckons he might have sent it."
Waving aside the information that a famous murderer is after his Seeker, Oliver says, "But Black couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"
"I know," Harry agrees, "but McGonagall still wants to strip it down -," Wood goes pale.
"I'll go and talk to her, Harry," He promises. "I'll make her see reason… a Firebolt… a real Firebolt, on our team… she wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do.. I'll make her see sense… a Firebolt…"
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Lessons start again the next day. The last thing anyone feels like doing is spending two hours on the castle grounds on a raw January morning, but Hagrid provides a bonfire full of Salamanders for their enjoyment. They spend an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing while the flame-loving lizards scamper up and down the crumbling, white-hot logs.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
The first Divination lesson of the new term is much less fun, with Professor Trelawney now teaching them palmistry, and she loses no time in informing Harry he has the shortest lifeline she has ever seen. Jayla continues her campaign of proving the art wrong as she gives it a go during lunch, stealing Hermione's book and predicts a surprising turn of events with a happier ending, which Harry hopes is true but doesn't believe her entirely.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
It is Defence Against the Dark Arts that Harry is keen to get to; after his conversation with Wood, he wants to get started on his Anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible. "Ah yes," Lupin says when Harry reminds him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see… How about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough… I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this… we can't bring a real Dementor into the castle to practise on…"
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" Ron comments as they walk down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?" There is a loud and impatient 'tuh' from behind them. Hermione has been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, repacking her bag, which is so full of books it won't close. "And what are you tutting at us for?"
"Nothing," Jayla answers for her in a lofty voice, and Hermione heaves her bag back over her shoulder.
"Yes, you were," He argues. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you…"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" Hermione questions with a look of maddening superiority.
"If you don't want to tell us, don't," The redhead snaps.
"Fine," She replies haughtily, marching off with Jayla chasing her.
"They don't know," Ron grumbles, staring resentfully after them. "They're just trying to get us to talk to her again."
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Thursday arrives, and Harry walks down the deserted corridor, heading toward the History of Magic classroom. He comes, and before he can knock, the door opens, revealing Lupin, who smiles, seeing the boy. "You're sure about this, Harry?" Remus asks the boy, letting him inside the dreary room with the tables on either side, giving them enough space to move around and a large box with magical locks on the front. "This is very advanced Magic. Well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level."
"If Black can fight the Demenotors, I need to know how too," Harry argues, and Lupin studies him as if conflicted but decides to agree to the lessons.
"Very well. The spell I'm going to teach you is called the Patronus Charm. Ever heard of it?" He asks, and the raven-haired boy shakes his head. "A Patronus is a kind of positive force. For the Wizard who can conjure one, the Patronus works something like a shield. The Dementor feeds on it instead of him." The trunk rattles violently as Harry's eyes wander to the many magical locks. Lupin snaps his fingers, gaining his attention back on him. "But in order for it to work, you must think of a memory. And not just any. This memory needs to be a very happy one. And powerful." Harry has to think hard about this but nods. "Got something?" He nods again. "Good. Let it fill you up. Lose yourself in it. Then speak the incantation: Expecto Patronum. Without your wand…"
"Expecto Patronum…" Harry repeats.
"Right then. Shall we?" He questions, looking at the boy, who nods, raising his wand. Remus watches him closely, reaching over and gripping the trunk lid. "Concentrate, Harry. Concentrate…" Lupin waves his hand over the locks that click open, and he flings the trunk open as Harry opens his eyes when the Dementor springs from inside the trunk and looms over the raven-haired boy, looking particularly horrific.
"Expecto… Patronum…"The candles along the wall flicker as a chilling breeze fills the classroom, and a scream echoes distantly inside Harry's memories as his hand trembles and his eyes roll up. "Expecto… Expecto…" Everything goes dark for the boy as he falls to the ground. Moments later, Harry regains consciousness, blinking awake in a daze and sees Lupin crouching beside him, fishing out a piece of chocolate from his pocket and pressing it into Harry's trembling hand.
"It's chocolate, it's good for you," Remus reminds him, and Harry studies the piece of chocolate before taking a bite and seeming to recover a little.
"That's one nasty Dementor," Harry comments, sitting up and taking another bite.
"Boggart, Harry." He corrects the teen. "The real thing would be much, much worse. Just out of interest, what were you thinking of? What memory did you choose?"
"The first time I rode a broom," The raven-haired teen answers.
"That's not good enough, Harry. Not nearly," Lupin argues, and Harry glances toward the window, looking out at the night sky.
"There's another. It's not happy, exactly. I mean, it is. It's the happiest I've ever felt. But it's… complicated." Harry answers.
"Is it strong?" Remus asks him, and he looks up into his Professor's eyes, nodding. "Then let's try it." Harry takes a deep breath, finishing the chocolate and poising himself, getting ready, his hand still trembling and his whole body. But he holds his ground when Lupin moves to the trunk and waves his hand over the locks again before opening the chest, unleashing the Dementor-shaped Boggart.
"Expecto… Patronum… Expecto Patronum! EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry grows clearer, louder and stronger as he repeats the words and a wisp of silver bursts from the tip of his wand, creating a shield as it hovers between him and the Dementor, making the dark creature falter as it tries to attack. Harry moves his arm down, sending the Dementor back into the trunk, surprising Professor Lupin as he closes the chest and drops his arm.
"Well done," Lupin smiles with a kind of awe in his eyes and his voice barely a whisper.
"I think I've had enough. For today," Harry announces, and Remus nods in agreement, watching him move to the steps to the teacher's desk.
"So you know Harry, you'd have given your Father a run for his money. And, believe me, that's saying something." He muses, joining Harry, giving him another piece of chocolate, and taking some for himself.
"I was thinking of him. And Mum. Seeing their faces," Potter admits, thinking fondly of his parents with a small smile. "They're just talking to me. Just… talking. That was the memory I chose. I don't even know if it's real…" Harry looks at him, and a silence settles over them for a moment. "But it's the best I have." He thinks of the screams he hears when he's near a Dementor and the nightmares Harry was previously plagued with that disappear with his black candle on his nightstand.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Ravenclaw plays Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin wins, though narrowly. According to Wood, this is good news for Gryffindor, who will also take second place if they beat Ravenclaw. He, therefore, increases the number of team practices to five a week; even Jayla finds it excessive as she has extra lessons later in the week. This means that with Lupin's Anti-Dementor classes, which are more draining than six Quidditch practices, Harry has just one night a week to do all his homework with some help from Jayla. Even so, Harry isn't showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione, whose immense workload finally seems to be getting to her.
Every night, without fail, Hermione is seen in the corner of the Common Room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, Rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes. She barely speaks to anybody and snaps when she is interrupted. "How's she doing it?" Ron mutters to Harry one evening as Harry sits finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Snape with help from Jayla, who has already completed it. Harry looks up; Hermione is barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.
"Doing what?" Harry asks.
"Getting to all her classes!" He exclaims. "I heard her talking to Professor Vector, that Aethimancy Witch, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Hermione can't've been there because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures! And Ernie McMillan told me she's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Divination, and she's never missed one of them, either!" Harry doesn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible timetable as Jayla helps him finish Snape's essay. Two seconds later, however, he is interrupted again, this time by Wood.
"Bad news, Harry. I've just been to see Professor McGonagall about the Firebolt. She - er - got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I said I didn't care if it threw you off, as long as you caught the Snitch on it first." Wood shakes his head in disbelief. "Honestly. The way she was yelling at me… you'd think I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it…" He screws up his face and imitates Professor McGonagall's severe voice. "'As long as necessary, Wood'... I reckon it's time you ordered a new broom. Harry. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick… You could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Jayla's got."
"I'm not buying anything Malfoy thinks is good," Harry replies flatly.
"Oi!" Jayla exclaims. "Do you want help or not?"
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
January fades gradually into February, with no change in the snippy cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw is drawing closer and closer, but Harry still hasn't ordered a new broom. He is now asking Professor McGonagall for news on his Firebolt after every Transfiguration class; Ron stands hopefully at his shoulder. Hermione rushes past with Jayla, averting their gaze. "No, Potter, you can't have it back yet," Professor McGonagall tells him for the twelfth time before he can even open his mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Flitwick believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Harry has another Anti-Dementor lesson with Professor Lupin, and he's doing much better than his first lesson, producing a silvery shadow that acts as a shield against the Boggart-Dementor as it approaches him and drives it away back into the trunk. "You're expecting too much of yourself," Lupin says sternly in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old Wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out any more, are you?"
"I thought a Patronus would - charge the Dementors down or something," Harry replies dispiritedly. "Make them disappear -."
"The true Patronus does do that," He assures him. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."
"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," Potter remarks.
"I have complete confidence in you," Remus tells him, smiling. "Here - you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks, you won't have tried it before -." He pulls two bottles out of his briefcase.
"Butterbeer!" Harry exclaims, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!" Lupin raises an eyebrow. "Oh - Jayla brought me some back from Hogsmeade." He smiles, thinking of the memory. "She gave it to me in a travel mug. She brings some back every time she comes back."
"I see," Lupin replies, though he still looks slightly suspicious. "Well - let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…" He adds hastily. They drink the Butterbeer in silence until Harry voices something he's been wondering for a while.
"What's under a Dementor's hood?" Harry can't help himself from asking, and Professor Lupin lowers his bottle thoughtfully.
"Hmmm… well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor only lowers its hood to use its last and worst weapon," Remus explains.
"What's that?" He questions, needing to take up Jayla's offer to learn more about the Wizarding World.
"They call it the Dementors' Kiss," The DADA Professor answers with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there because they clamp their jaw upon the mouth of the victim and - and suck out his soul." Harry accidentally spits out a bit of Butterbeer.
"What - they kill -?" The raven-haired teen asks in horror.
"Oh, no," He tells him. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self any more, no memory, no anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just - exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever… lost." Lupin drinks a little more Butterbeer, then says, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him." Harry sits stunned for a moment at the idea of something having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thinks of Black.
"He deserves it," Harry says suddenly.
"You think so?" Remus questions lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"
"Yes," He answers defiantly. "For… for some things…" He would like to tell Lupin about the conversation he overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his Mother and Father. However, it will involve revealing he had gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knows Lupin won't be very impressed by that. So he finishes his Butterbeer, thanks him and leaves the History of Magic classroom.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
Harry half-wishes he hadn't asked what is under a Dementor's hood, the answer is so horrible, and he is so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it will feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walks headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs. "Do watch where you're going, Potter!"
"Sorry, Professor -," He mutters, feeling embarrassed.
"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor Common Room. Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all - you've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter…" She informs him, and his jaw drops as she holds out his Firebolt, looking as magnificent as ever.
"I can have it back?" He asks weakly. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," The Deputy Headmistress repeats, and she actually smiles. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter - do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night…" Speechless, Harry carries the Firebolt back upstairs towards Gryffindor Tower. As he turns the corner, he sees Ron towards him, grinning from ear to ear.
"She gave it to you?" Ron exclaims with glee. "Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"
"Yeah… anything…" Harry says, his heart lighter than it has been in a month. "You know what, we should make it up with Hermione. She was only trying to help…"
"Yeah, all right," Ron agrees. "Jayla will be happy. She's in the Common Room now - working, for a change." The boys turn into the corridor to Gryffindor Tower and spot Neville pleading with Sir Cadogan, who seems to be refusing him entrance.
"I wrote them down," Neville says, close to tears, "but I must've dropped them somewhere."
"A likely take," Sir Cadogan roars, and then he spots Harry and Ron. "Good evening, my fine young men! Come clap this loon in irons, he is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"
"Oh, shut up," Ron grumbles as he and Harry draw level with Neville.
"I've lost the passwords!" Neville cries miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"
"Oddsbodikins," Harry says to Sir Cadogan, who looks hugely disappointed and reluctantly swings forward to let them into the Common Room.
⒴⒠⒜⒭ ⑶
There is a sudden, excited murmur as every head turns, and the next moment, Harry is surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt. "Where'd you get it, Harry?"
"Will you let me have a go?"
"Have you ridden it yet, Harry?"
"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"
"Can I just hold it, Harry?" After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt is passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd soon disperses. The boys have a clear view of the girls, the only people who don't rush over to them. Hermione is bent over her work, and Jayla reads a new book and carefully avoids their eyes. Harry and Ron approach their table, and at last, they look up.
"I got it back," Harry tells her, grinning at them and holding the broomstick.
"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" Ron retorts.
"Well - there might have been!" Hermione argues. "I mean, at least you know now that it's safe!"
"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry agrees. "I'd better put it upstairs -."
"I'll take it!" Ron offers eagerly. "I've got to give Scabbers his Rat Tonic and tuck Fee into bed." He takes the Firebolt and, holding it as if made of glass, carries it away up the boys' staircase.
"Can I sit down, then?" He asks the girls.
"I suppose so," Jayla repeats, moving Hermione's great stack of parchment off a chair. Harry looks around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink is still glistening, at the Rune translation Hermione is now pouring over.
"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Potter asks Hermione.
"Oh, well - you know - working hard," Hermione answers, but looking closely, he sees she's almost as tired as Lupin.
"Why don't you drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asks, watching her lifting books as she searches for her Rune dictionary.
"I couldn't do that!" Hermione argues, looking scandalised.
"Arithmancy looks terrible," He comments, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart.
"Oh, no, it's wonderful!" She exclaims earnestly. "It's my favourite subject! It's -." But precisely what is terrific about Arithmancy, Harry will never find out. A strangled yell echoes down the boys' staircase at that precise moment. The whole Common Room falls silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. The sound of fast footsteps grows louder and louder - and then, Ron comes leaping into view, dragging with him a bedsheet.
"LOOK!" Ron bellows, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" He yells, shaking the sheet in her face.
"Ron, what -?" Jayla tries asking, but he shouts instead.
"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!" Hermione leans away from Ron as he shouts, looking utterly bewildered. Harry and Jayla look down at the sheet Ron is holding. There is something red on it. Something that looks horrible, like - "BLOOD!" Ron yells into the stunned silence. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"
"N-No," Hermione stutters in a trembling voice. Ron throws something down onto her Rune translation. Hermione and Harry leans forward. Several long, ginger cat hairs are on top of the weird, spiky shapes.