The Potter Timeline
Chapter 48 - The Black Traitor
After returning to Hogwarts that night, Harry headed down the main corridor in the direction of Tower Hall, thinking back over what happened. He was thrilled to have helped Dumbledore find the ring and destroy another of Voldemort's soul pieces. But the headmaster's reaction to the black stone and his words about it having more significance than simply being a Horcrux intrigued the twelve-year-old.
What exactly was the stone, and how could it be a potential weapon, as the old man suggested?
Very few things seemed to surprise Dumbledore. Considering he was nearly one hundred and eleven, that itself wasn't surprising. But if the Gaunt ring caused the headmaster's face to turn pale, it must be very significant...
BANG! CLANG!
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin at loud, metallic noises behind him. Heart beating wildly, he spun around to find several silver goblets bouncing onto the stone floor. He then glanced around to find the culprit of this rude prank. But Harry already guessed who it was.
"Hee, hee, hee..." a high-pitched, wicked laugh came from above.
Harry looked up. He was right.
"Peeves!" he complained with clenched fists.
The squat poltergeist was floating upside down, his feet resting on the ceiling of the tall corridor as though standing on the floor. An upside down purple sack floated next to him as he gazed down at Harry with a gleeful look.
"I got that snotter!
That four-eyed Potter!
His unwitting little head
makes for great fun and fodder!
Hee, hee, hee..."
Fuming, for scaring the daylights out of him, Harry grabbed one of the goblets and hurled it at the spook.
The cup flew right through Peeves, smacked the ceiling, and clanked back onto the floor sending a metallic echo down the corridor.
"Hoo, hoo, hoo! Hee, hee, hee!" the funny-dressed ghost laughed, dropping the sack onto the floor and disappearing through the wall.
Harry frowned and shook his head, reaching down to take the sack and place the goblets inside it. Yet more items he'd give to Hagrid so the two could figure out where in the castle Peeves had snatched them from. This was one drawback of staying at the school for the summer. As Harry was the only student present, Peeves was constantly pestering and pranking him.
Since the beginning of the holidays, Harry had ice water dumped on him, had the candles blown out on him while reading in the library, found a muggle tennis ball in his soup, and had doors slammed in his face time and again. The old poltergeist was annoying, to say the least, and Harry found himself nearly paranoid anytime he left Gryffindor Tower, wondering what mischief would be wreaked upon him next.
After placing the goblets inside the velvet sack, Harry left it by the corridor wall, too tired to take it to Hagrid straight away. He then trudged up the stairs to the Fat Lady's portrait.
"Ursa Minor," Harry spoke with exhaustion.
The woman in the canvas, who had been at her flower arranging, turned and beamed at him.
"Oh! Welcome back, Harry!" she uttered cheerily while placing a daisy behind one ear, "another fun night out, eh? A bit of marauding? Up to no good again?"
She laughed herself silly at this.
"Yeah...something like that," he replied with a frown.
The lady sighed, exasperated the boy didn't seem to get her humor.
"Well, have a good night, then!" she muttered sarcastically, resuming her busy arranging.
The portrait opened and Harry stepped into the common room, ready to crash in bed. But on the way to the stairwell leading to the boys' dorms, Harry spotted Hedwig sitting on top of the study table, apparently waiting for him.
"Hello, girl," he said to his owl tiredly, stepping over and giving her a pet on the head.
The bird gave out a soft chirp and glanced down. Harry noticed the envelope sitting at her feet. When he saw his name written on its face in a familiar handwriting, he lit up. Whatever tiredness he felt suddenly disappeared as he snatched up the envelope and hurried to the sofa, plopping down and eagerly opening it.
Harry,
I got your letter and talked with my parents. We'll meet you at Diagon Alley the day after tomorrow, then. I can't wait! Professor McGonagall owled me and told me she would give you a list of our first term classes and the books we'll need. We can buy those and whatever else we need, or want, too. I look forward to us spending time together at Diagon and the next month. It should be a lot of fun. You'll definitely have to show me that hidden waterfall you discovered behind the castle. I also have some ideas on things we could work on in the Spellroom and maybe Hagrid can join us. Anyway, we'll meet you Monday morning at the Leaky Cauldron at eleven sharp.
Be careful!
Love, Hermione
Harry simply glowed upon reading this. But then, he noticed her postscript message below.
P.S. There's something important I need to tell you, but thought it best to wait until we meet up.
This was intriguing and had him wondering what could possibly be so important she'd mention it in this way. But whatever it was, Harry couldn't wait to see his best friend, his...girlfriend as he now thought of her.
The pair had owled each other at least twice a week since the end of second year and Harry enjoyed reading about her trip to Italy with her parents as well as what was happening in the muggle world. Hermione was equally thrilled to hear about Harry's adventures at Hogwarts and asked lots of questions on what he was learning - more than he could answer in a single owl delivery, it seemed. After meeting up in Diagon Alley and buying their school supplies, the two would return to Hogwarts where they could study and spend some time together before Fall Term got underway.
Dumbledore tasked Hagrid with taking Harry to Diagon personally and the caretaker excitedly told Harry he had a surprise for him with the form of transportation they would be taking. This also intrigued the twelve-year-old.
The following morning, Harry went to McGonagall's office.
"Here's the first term class list for your third year, including the books you'll need for each," the woman said while handing him a parchment from across her desk.
Harry's jaw dropped upon gazing at it.
Third-year curriculum, first term, as of July 1993
Required Classes
Charms, Grade Three (Main Floor) ~ Filius Flitwick
~ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three
Potions, Grade Three (First Level Dungeon) ~ Severus Snape
~ Magical Draughts and Potions, Arsenius Jigger
Intermediate Transfiguration (Main Floor) ~ Minerva McGonagall
~ Intermediate Transfiguration, 4th Edition
Intermediate Herbology (Greenhouse Four) ~ Pomona Sprout
~ One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Phyllida Spore
Defence Against the Dark Arts (Fourth Floor) ~ TBD
~ Dangerous Denizens of the Wizarding World, Copernicus Spineprickle
Elective Classes
Divination (North Tower) ~ Sybil Trelawney
~ Unfogging the Future, Cassandra Vablatsky
Arithmancy (Main Floor) ~ Septima Vector
~ Numerology and Gramatica, 7th Edition
Muggle Studies (Second Floor) ~ Charity Burbage
~ Introduction to Muggle Civilisation, Evian Bonhomme
Study of Ancient Runes (Sixth Floor, South Tower) ~ Bathsheda Babbling
~ Ancient Runes Made Easy, Felicity Oddstone
~ Spellman's Syllabary, 15th Edition
Care of Magical Creatures (Location TBD) ~ Rubeus Hagrid
~ The Monster Book of Monsters, 10th Edition
"You are required to take seven classes minimum, which includes the five mandatory classes at the top," the professor stated before Harry could get halfway through the list, "but this year, you have a choice of electives, as you see at the bottom. You may choose two out of those classes based on your interests and proclivity."
The woman leaned forward on her desk and gazed pointedly at him.
"However, you and Miss Granger may take all of the electives, if you wish."
Harry's brow furrowed.
"All of them?" he asked with astonishment, gazing at each.
"Yes," McGonagall said, "we were going to offer this only to Hermione due to her excellent academic performance. However, after discussing it further with Professor Dumbledore, he asked me to offer it to you as well, especially with your improved performance end of last term, and because of something he discussed with you during your...excursion last night, apparently."
Harry thought about that last part. She was referring to their retrieval of the ring, though the headmaster had obviously not told her specifics. Harry then realized why Dumbledore would request he be offered additional classes.
Since Tom Riddle used runes to conceal the location of the ring, and since he also used numerology in his efforts to gain immortality through the Horcruxes, perhaps the dark wizard might use such tools in his attempts to gain a new body and return to power too. Knowing these two fields of study might indeed make the fight that much easier, as his older self told him in the whited-out King's Cross station.
But despite his inclination to study runes and numerology, taking upwards of ten classes per term would be a lot of work. And adding Quidditch to all that would make his third year the busiest and most exhausting ever. He could probably do without Divination. And the Muggle Studies class didn't make sense to him as he and Hermione were both raised in the muggle world. Eliminating those two might relieve some of the load. But whatever the case, he'd have to seriously think this over.
"I see," he stated. But then, he realized something strange about the professor's offer.
"Wait a minute. From what I recall last year, there aren't enough class periods in a day to cover all these classes, which means several of them have to be offered during the same period. If Hermione and I did take some extra or even all of the electives, how could we possibly take classes occurring at the same exact time?"
McGonagall smiled.
"I must say, Harry, your deductive powers have certainly increased since your...episode with Riddle last term. I'm impressed."
Harry grinned and his cheeks briefly turned pink, remembering his heightened clarity of mind since the removal of the accidental Horcrux. The professor continued.
"First, discuss this with Hermione and determine if the pair of you indeed wish to take on the extra classwork. If you do, we have means that will allow you to take two or three classes at the same exact time. But, I won't reveal that until you've made your decision. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied, still puzzled. He then glanced at the parchment once more and saw something else astonishing. His eyes lit up.
"Hagrid is teaching a class?" he asked excitedly.
Now a huge smile appeared on McGonagall's face.
"Yes. Professor Kettleburn, who has been teaching Care of Magical Creatures for I don't know how long, just retired. The headmaster, knowing Hagrid's practical knowledge of magical creatures and his particular fondness for them, offered the man the position in addition to his regular duties. We both figured a few classes per week wouldn't put too much pressure on him and might also give him a chance to increase his magical skills."
Harry grinned.
"That's great! I'm glad for him!"
"So am I, Potter. So am I," she said while clasping her hands together on her desk.
As Harry stared over the parchment one last time, he noticed that no one had yet been hired as teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Considering that the last two teachers, Quirrell and Lockhart, turned out to be a debacle for the school, Harry guessed Dumbledore was being more careful about who he hired this time. Maybe this year they'd get a legitimate and knowledgeable professor for the post.
"Now then," McGonagall said, "take that list with you to Diagon so you can buy what you need. We'll discuss this further when you both return."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, getting up and exiting the office.
~HP~
The next morning, Harry stepped outside the main entrance to meet Hagrid for the "special" ride to London. He found the caretaker waiting for him, wearing his old overcoat over top his official Hogwarts outfit while sporting a pair of goggles on top of his huge head. With that short haircut and ponytail, as well as his goatee, Hagrid looked like he was about enter into a wild race of some kind.
"TA-DA!" the big wizard bellowed out with a grin while pointing his hand at a large black motorcycle with a side car sitting in the gravel drive before the castle. After apparating for the first time with the headmaster, Harry expected yet another unusual magical means of travel. A motorcycle seemed...underwhelming.
"Ain't she a beaut'?" the half-giant uttered, beaming at the bike which looked rather beat-up and rickety.
"Um...yeah...I guess," Harry replied with a furrowed brow, "how long will it take us to get to London in this?"
"Only about two er three hours, dependin' on the weather, o' course."
"Two or three hours. So, it has that magical speed capability like the car Dumbledore drove?"
Hagrid gave the twelve-year-old an excited look.
"O' course, Harry! But it's even better than that! This here motorbike flies, an' mighty quick too!"
"Oh!" Harry uttered with surprise, gazing at the old side car and hoping it would actually hold up...a hundred meters into the sky. But then his face scrunched up.
"But, won't muggles see us flying through the air?" he asked.
The caretaker seemed even prouder of the bike now.
"Nope. Not after a slight modification made by Professor Dumbledore an' myself. See that red switch there? It's charmed teh make the bike an' us invisible! Won't no one be seein' us, Harry, until we've landed."
Harry nodded. But Hagrid now placed his hands together and gave him a rather emotional look.
"I picked you up in this bike when you was a baby, Harry, at Godric's Hollow, right after yer...uh...parents died. Sat you with yer blanket right in that side car an' flew you to yer relatives' house. Thought yeh might like another ride in it, fer ol' times sake."
Harry shrugged.
"Sure," he replied.
"Great!" the half-giant uttered while pulling something out of his coat pocket.
"Yeh might want teh wear these durin' the ride."
Harry took a pair of goggles from the man which were scratched up and a bit overlarge for the pre-teen. He was tempted to run back up to his dorm room and retrieve the all-weather goggles he bought at Quality Quidditch Supplies a year earlier. But he smiled and placed Hagrid's goggles on his head anyway.
"Right, then," Hagrid said while moving to the bike and placing his huge frame over the seat, causing the entire thing to sink by two inches, "hop on in an' we'll be off teh Diagon in no time."
Harry walked over and stepped inside the side car which creaked and could barely contain his slightly long legs.
"Where did you get this motorcycle anyway? It's seems...ancient," he asked curiously.
But Hagrid's face went from cheery to very serious in a flash. In fact, Harry couldn't help but notice anger in the man's expression. Hagrid looked ahead, deep in thought for a moment. He then spoke without even looking at the boy.
"I s'pose there's no need o' hidin' it. Yer gonna hear 'bout it sooner er later," the half-giant spoke before clearing his throat and continuing.
"It belonged teh yer father's best friend, Harry, a man named Sirius Black. He not only attended yer parents' weddin' as best man fer James, they also made Black yer...godfather, I'm sorry teh say. Big mistake, mind yeh, though they didn't know it at the time."
Harry's brow furrowed.
"Why is that?" he asked.
Hagrid seemed uncertain whether to answer him or not. But the caretaker straightened up and looked Harry dead in the eyes.
"'Cause he betrayed 'em...an' you. Turned out teh be a spy fer You Know Who an' informed his master yer parents were hidin' out at the Hollow. You know what happened next, o' course. At the time, none of us knew Black was a traitor. He gave me this motorbike teh get you out of the Hollow, which I thought a bit strange at the time. But afterwards, I realized he must o' done it teh cover his tracks, teh make himself look innocent o' what happened between You Know Who and yer parents."
Harry looked down at the side car in thought, as silence came over them both. He then looked back at Hagrid.
"So...where is Sirius Black now?"
Hagrid looked away.
"In Azkaban, Harry, forever. An' rightly so," the caretaker muttered angrily just before starting the motorcycle.
Harry jumped as the engine roared up and a plume of smoke burst from the tail pipe in the back. As the noise of the bike was too loud, Harry couldn't ask Hagrid anything else about Black or his parents at the moment. But then again, he sensed Hagrid really didn't want to talk about them either. So, Harry placed the goggles over his eyes which annoyingly slid to the tip of his nose. Hagrid placed his goggles over his eyes and with a turn of the bike's handle, they flew off toward London.
~HP~
The old motorcycle managed to hold up during the flight, though Harry was still nervous as the side car shuddered and creaked while the wind blew past at high speed. The weather was mostly clear, though the air at that height was chilly and Harry sank down into the car to avoid shivering with cold most of the way to London. But during those two and a half hours in the air, Harry couldn't help but think back over Hagrid's words concerning Sirius Black, his...godfather, according to the half-giant.
Though Harry had never heard of the man and knew nothing about him, he wondered how someone so apparently close to his parents could turn out to be such a "black" traitor or how his parents didn't seem to realize it until it was too late. Until now, he only knew about what happened at his parents' cottage and his survival of the killing curse from Voldemort. He didn't know anything about others involved or how things got to the point they did. This bit about Black now had Harry curious. Maybe, if they had extra time the month before term, he and Hermione could investigate the circumstances surrounding the betrayal of his parents. And perhaps Dumbledore could give some insight into the affair as he was no doubt aware of what occurred.
For the last twenty minutes, they flew over the cloud tops to avoid what looked like scattered storms on the outskirts of London. But at a certain point, Hagrid hit the red invisibility switch and the pair finally descended. When they broke beneath the clouds, the sprawl of metropolitan London appeared below. Excitement once more brewed in Harry as they dropped down and landed on a deserted side street.
Hermione wasn't far away now.
Hagrid flipped the switch again and drove the bike like normal in the direction of The Leaky Cauldron. When they arrived at the plain, nondescript door, the caretaker stopped.
"Right, then, Harry. Go on in. I'll hide the bike an' return after. Been itchin' fer a pint since we left Hogwarts, so I'll meet yeh inside."
"Okay," Harry told him while stepping out of the side car and placing his goggles inside it. Hagrid zoomed off around the corner. Harry opened the door to the wizarding pub and walked in.
The familiar sights (scraggly-looking wizards and witches huddled over a plate of food, a steaming cauldron of soup, or a foaming concoction of some sort), sounds (the clinking of glass or silverware, the crackling fireplace center of the back wall, hushed conversation), and smells of The Leaky Cauldron (dried herbs hanging above the bar, roast something or other in the kitchen, and a tobacco pipe smoked by a surly wizard sitting by the fire) hit Harry and he recalled with fondness his overnight stay at the tavern almost a year ago.
Nearly everyone inside the place ceased what they were doing and gazed at the Boy Who Lived. Some nodded at him or smiled, others quickly began whispering to one another. It felt like the first time entered the dingy old pub, back before his first year.
"Well, bless me soul!" a familiar, but pleasant voice chimed at him from behind the bar, "welcome back, Mr. Potter!"
Harry looked over and smiled. It was Tom, the bald-headed bartender and manager of the Leaky Cauldron.
"Hello, Tom," he replied, "good to see you again."
"You too, young sir! So, what brings you here today? Need a room for the night again? Seems like only yesterday you were with us," Tom uttered cheerily with that lisp of his due to not having a single tooth in his mouth.
"Not this time. I'm meeting someone and we're getting our school supplies for the upcoming term."
"Ah! I see! Well, would you like something to drink while you wait then?"
"Um...sure!"
"Fancy an ice cold pumpkin juice on this balmy day? Or how about our special this month: frosty butterbeers?"
Harry's eyes lit up at the thought, and he felt torn between two very delicious options. But before he could decide, the door to the pub opened and in walked Hagrid.
"Hagrid! Come on in, old friend!" Tom said cheerfully.
The half-giant marched over to the bar next to Harry and held out his big hand.
"Hello there, Tom!"
Tom's entire body shook with the handshake and when Hagrid let go, the bartender's hand was red. But the man still beamed at the caretaker.
"So, will it be the usual today, Hagrid, or are you on Hogwarts business?"
"Actually, my Hogwarts business is finished, so I think I'd like a drink," Hagrid said while throwing Harry a wink and smile. Harry chuckled. The caretaker then put a hand to his bearded chin in thought.
"Rosmerta was tellin' me 'bout a new brew comin' out of the Highlands, aged in Ogden's Old Firewhisky barrels."
Tom's eyes lit up.
"MacDougall's Mean Mead!"
"That's the one!" Hagrid exclaimed, "yeh happen teh have that here?"
"Just got a few kegs in yesterday, Hagrid. Let me get Mr. Potter a drink and I'll pour you a pint."
The two looked at Harry who realized he needed to decide.
"Um...I think I'll have..."
"Harry!" an excited and familiar voice called from across the room.
Harry spun around, grinning from ear to ear.
He had been awaiting this moment for a solid month.