Chapter 4: Declining Peace
As the school year gave way to October things were going about as well for Harry as they ever had in any school year. The only classes that gave him any trouble were potions, where Professor Snape continued to make it his mission in life to ruin everything for Harry, and Divinations where his death was still predicted at least once a class. Even those weren't too bad since his grades were improving in potions despite Snape's best efforts and Divinations had grabbed Harry's attention in a way no other class had yet.
Not because of anything Professor Trelawney did mind you, or even because the textbook gripped his attention. In fact the way the class was set up did everything it could to frustrate Harry and Esharry both. Divination was in the words of Hermione a terribly wooly subject. Vague in its methods but rigid in its interpretation it lended itself well to being as annoying as possible.
Reading tea leaves should be simple. Pour the tea, drink almost all of the tea, swirl the cup three times with the left hand, dump the cup on the saucer and then compare the shape of the tea leaves to the chart in the books for interpretation. But this only ever produced a mass of soggy brown stuff devoid of any definite shape. Harry had to guess at which symbol the tea was supposed to have made, and since the actual shape was just an indistinct lump there were usually several symbols it could relate to.
If Harry were a cynical man he might guess this was the whole point. The shape was supposed to be vague so that the self professed clairvoyant could pick any symbol they wanted and go: "Ah yes the closed gate. Be careful, opportunities will desert you in the near future." Or whatever else they thought the person they were talking to most wanted to hear. But this begged the question why all of the signs in the textbook weren't odd blobs as well. How was a mass of tea leaves ever supposed to make the shape of a backwards cross? A pentagram? A bird in flight? Or a split tree? It didn't make sense, half the interpretations offered by the book would never come up.
There is something going on here than just simple charlatanry. Esharry insisted as well. You can see the psychic energy flowing around that cup, same as I can. And you can see how it shifts subtlety as people handle the cup in different ways. There are methods to this we aren't being told. Perhaps even more than the professor knows.
This led to Esharry insisting they head to the library to conduct their own investigation by seeking out more advanced books. Harry would've refused but the mystery of it intrigued him. Plus Hermione's interest in the class was quickly fading. Harry didn't like that. Having a know-it-all book worm for a friend sometimes dragged on him, especially around exam times, but the one good thing about it was see the sheer enthusiasm with which Hermione approached every aspect of magic. To see her lose it, possibly just because a teacher was bad at teaching was fundamentally wrong. Snape hadn't managed to do that in two years of hard effort but Trelawney was managing it through simple incompetence.
But the library books didn't help. The stuff they would go over in the coming years just covered different kinds of divination. After some searching Harry found a book that actually went deeper into the subject of tea leaves but all this suggested was alternative ways of handling the cup to get better results. Even worse the coming years seemed more of the same. Imprecise methods that would yield muddled results that then had to be strictly interpreted according to the established chart. Harry had half a mind to drop the subject after realizing this. Then he noticed something odd.
"The interpretations of these symbols change from method to method." Harry said quietly to himself, though really he was talking to Esharry. He was by himself in the library after finishing up a quick dinner. Hermione was neck deep in her own studying and Ron had been caught up with his brothers in talk about some joke shop. "In tea leaves the sun means good fortune. In the crystal gazing it indicates coming revelation, if it rises through a zodiac it indicates a new beginning, and the sun tarot card puts a good spin on anything around it. Almost all of them are different across the different practices."
Yes you're right. Esharry noted. I think I might have an idea. Write down the names of the authors of these books. Let's see if we can find out anything about their lives.
Harry noted the information and then went digging. It took him a while but eventually he found biographies for a few of them amdists summaries of notable witches and wizards of their respective eras. Harry himself wasn't interested in them, so he allowed his eyes to flow over the relevant passages so that Esharry could read them in detail.
As I thought. He announced with smug satisfaction. None of them claimed to seers themselves. These authors are just academic investigators trying to compile information for future use. I bet you they just went to a couple of magical fortune tellers and got readings done then wrote down what they said and what they meant. One person had them drink tea and then told them the cross means future suffering, the crystal ball users said it meant they would have to make a choice or face betrayal, the astrologer said this is the sign of cancer it means loyalty and trust and the tarot reader said it's the hanged man it means you will have to make a sacrifice in the future. All these books are the basic works of amateurs, the actual prophets kept their real secrets to themselves. All the little things that make a reading really work were trade secrets.
"And since Trelawney isn't a real prophet either, all she knows is this basic junk." Harry concluded. "Or maybe all there is basic junk. A bunch of con men using a little bit of magic to pull a fast one on wizards who think that knowing a little magic makes them smarter than everyone else."
There should be something to this clairvoyance stuff. Esharry insisted. The future is just the result of the present. If we knew enough we would know everything and there should be magical or psychic means of at least catching a glimpse of it. There's something real going on in that class room, we just need to conduct some tests of our own to find out what it is.
Harry wasn't certain he agreed. The future couldn't be set in stone; it had to be the result of people freely making their own choices not dancing on strings of destiny. But it was worth looking into and as Esharry said there was psychic energy flowing through the divination tower, even if it wasn't being used properly. He would test it with Esharry.
As Harry worked on this new project the month of October came and with it one of Harry's favorite past times. His quidditch practice resumed.
Quidditch was one of the most popular sports played by wizards in the world. It was played between two teams of seven people all riding broomsticks, and revolved around three different kinds of balls. First was the quaffle, which would sort of float through the air. Three chasers on each team tried to grab the quaffle and throw it through one of three hoops, which were protected by the keeper, to score goals worth ten points each. While they did so two bludger balls would fly about the arena at high speeds so a pair of players called beaters would have to smack them away with heavy bats and try to knock them into enemy players. Finally there was the golden snitch, a small very fast ball that zoomed about the field almost too quickly to see. One seeker on each team would try to catch the snitch to end the game and score an extra hundred and fifty points.
Each house at Hogwarts, fielded a team which would play against each other in a series of six matches over the course of the year starting in November. The team which scored the most points and won the most games would win the quidditch cup, along with a bunch of extra points for their house which combined with the points students earned throughout the year by following the rules and studying diligently would let a house win the house cup and bragging rights for the next year. Gryffindor had won the house cup the last two years running but it hadn't won the quidditch cup in almost seven years now.
Their team captain Oliver Wood was desperate to win the cup this year. He was in his seventh and final year at school so this was his last chance to win. But their odds were good this year because as Wood pointed out during their first practice they had a nearly perfect team. Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katty Bell were a well oiled team of chasers. They were so flawless in their cooperation it was like they had learned to read each other's minds. Fred and George Weasley had the perfect mama bear mindset that kept their teammates safe from bludgers and made the enemy team painfully aware of the fact that if they played too dirty then furious vengeance was sure to haunt them. Oliver himself was a very good keeper, in fact he was the standard to which keepers would be held at Hogwarts for years to come.
As for Harry, well he had never yet failed to catch the snitch. This wasn't necessarily a good thing. While catching the snitch was worth a hundred and fifty points, it could only be caught once. To get the most points possible, and thus the highest standing in the league, the chasers needed time to score goals. This was a mistake Harry made in his first year when he ended their game against Hufflepuff so quickly that they barely scored above the minimum points possible to get from a winning game. This allowed Slytherin to get more points overall and win the cup despite having a record no better than Gryffindor's.
As a seeker Harry had three goals in a match, keep the other seeker from catching the snitch and getting that hundred and fifty points for their team. Distract the enemy team with fake dives and sudden movements through the field to help the chasers find their openings. And finally to end the game after the chasers had run up the score but before the other team had much chance to run up there's.
As practice began Harry quickly realized his new powers actually made the game very easy. With psychic sight he could easily track the snitch by looking for the faint trail it left behind rather than the occasional golden glint. By letting his telekinesis flow around him he could be warned of incoming bludgers or other players in plenty of time to dodge them. And of course he could grab the snitch psychically to hold it in place or keep it out of another's reach. Harry soon decided not to use these powers though.
Why ever not? Esharry asked. Everyone uses their natural advantages to help win these games. You wouldn't object to the Weasleys using their greater strength to their advantage would you? They worked hard to build up their arms, you've just so happened to build up your mind.
Harry rejected this idea for missing the point. First of all it was likely against the spirit of the rules if not the letter. It's not like Harry could just pull out his wand and cast a freezing charm on the snitch to hold it in place so he shouldn't be allowed to grab it with his mind either. Secondly it made the game too easy. Harry loved quidditch because he loved flying and he loved competing, pushing himself to his limit and overcoming them through sheer force of will. With his powers he could end the game in 30 seconds. No time to enjoy flying, no chance of losing, no rush for winning. Too easy, too boring. Finally Harry thought Esharry wanted them to hide their powers. People would notice if suddenly Harry went from a really good player to a flawlessly perfect one. Esharry had to agree with that last one at least.
So they carried on with practice in the traditional way. Wood demanded a lot from them all, squeezing in hours of practice every chance they got. But it was a good use of time. Even as the weather steadily worsened, Harry went to bed every night tired down to his bones and happy with a hard day's work. Nothing could ruin this time of his life.
Harry's life took a turn for the worse just a week before Halloween. He had just finished a round of quidditch practice when he came into the Gryffindor common room to relax for a bit and work the stiffness out of his muscles. As he entered he saw a large number of people gathered around the notice board eagerly reading something he couldn't see through the crowd. Harry made his way over to the chairs by the fireplace where Ron and Hermione were working on their star charts for astronomy.
"What's got everyone so worked up?" He asked them.
"They just published the dates for the first Hogsmead weekends." Ron said. "We'll be able to visit the village next Saturday on Halloween."
Harry felt excited at the news. Hogsmead was the only purely magical village in all of the United Kingdom. It had nearly as many magical shops as Diagon Alley, a number of famous locations like the magical post office and two of the most famous, and most infamous bars in the magical world: the Three Broomsticks and the far seedier Hog's Head. It was also a place where many different magical folks could more easily intermix and so even just walking down the streets could lead to some amazing sights.
The village had been built near Hogwarts to take advantage of the school's many magical protections. This allowed the village to be easily hidden from muggles. Hogwarts students were allowed to visit Hogsmead a few times each year provided they weren't too young and had permission from their legal guardian. It was always an exciting time. Harry felt quite proud of himself as he thought of this. Normally the Dursleys would never allow Harry to do anything fun or interesting, but Harry had struck a deal with his uncle that if he was well behaved during his Aunt Marge's visit, Vernon would have to sign his permission form.
Vernon had signed his permission form right?
With dreadful slowness a terrible feeling of despair began to sink into Harry's guts. Uncle Vernon had refused to sign the permission form until after Harry had lasted the full week without doing any magic around his aunt. Which Harry had managed only by vanishing for half her visit when he was captured by the Illithids. Looking back on it now, Harry realized that he had never returned to his house to collect the form. The Minister had rushed him off to the Leaky Cauldron before he had a chance to collect it himself. And since Harry had been so shaken up by unexpectedly changing species he had forgotten to ever mention the permission slip to either Fudge or Dumbledore.
"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked as the inner dread Harry felt began to reflect on his face.
"I don't think I have the permission slip for Hogsmead." He said in stunned disbelief.
"What?" Ron suddenly exclaimed, "Why not? Don't tell me the muggles wouldn't sign it for you."
"They would have." Harry insisted. "We had a deal and everything. But it all happened just before I had to walk out of the house. I never went back for it. All that news about Sirius Black and how worried Dumbledore and Fudge were drove it out of my head."
"I can't believe it." Ron bemoaned in sympathy for Harry's predicament.
"Maybe that's for the best." Hermione offered in a commiserating tone of voice.
"What are you saying Hermione?" Ron shot at her. "Harry can't be the only one not to go to Hogsmead. It would be cruel."
"I would love for Harry to be able to go." Hermione defended herself. "But Sirius Black is still on the loose. It might not be safe for Harry to be out of the castle before he's caught."
"Hermione." Ron moaned in exasperation. "Black's not going to come anywhere near this place. Not with all those dementors around the grounds. They're probably watching Hogsmead just as closely as they watch the castle."
"Still, it's an unnecessary risk." Hermione declared. "Harry won't be able to go one way or the other so it doesn't matter. But I think this is probably for the best."
"I'm still not sure Black even is after me." Harry said for himself. "All the effort to break out of Azkaban and then he's going to attack a child in one of the best defended places in the world? If Black had any sense he'd be halfway to Borneo by now."
"Hey Harry, didn't you say Dumbledore packed your trunk?" Ron put in. "Maybe he did get the permission form for you and you just haven't found it yet. Let's go have a look."
"Harry needs to do his homework." Hermione objected. "We've got star charts to make and a twelve inch long parchment due on the freezing spell for Charms and-"
"He can copy my star chart." Ron interrupted, "And the way Harry's been going at it this year he's probably already finished half that other stuff."
The two of them made their way up to the boy's dorm and searched it for the missing form. But it was nowhere to be found. The best idea they could come up with to deal with the situation was to ask their head of house Professor McGonagall if Harry might be able to go to Hogsmead even without the permission form on the grounds that he was going to get it and only bad luck had thwarted him.
This plan came to nothing however. Professor McGonagall wasn't willing to bend the rules for them. While she did like her house and did the best to take care of her lions she was a very fair woman and expected her students not to need the rules bent for them. However Harry also had to say she looked rather relieved to have a reason to keep Harry out of Hogsmead, so perhaps she had been thinking along the same lines as Hermione; that the village was too big of a risk.
Whatever her reasons, the effect was the same. Harry would be the only student not to go to Hogsmead this coming weekend. Harry was fairly dejected by this turn of events. Not helping was how excited the rest of the third year kids grew throughout that week as the day of the trip drew near.
Ron and Hermione did their best to cheer Harry up and promised to get him a selection of souvenirs and treats from the trip so he wouldn't miss out on much. Fred and George had the grace to go silent about their plans when Harry came near after Ron had told them the bad news. Even Percy tried to build Harry's spirits, though he did a very bad job of it.
Really the only thing that gave Harry any solace during this time was that his new methods of reading tea leaves had been predicting a reversal of fortunes for him for some time by then. So perhaps this confirmed the growing accuracy of his new methods. Then again they also warned him of an incoming attack, conspiracies abounding around him or perhaps dangerous secrets about those near him and that his family was in need, so perhaps they still needed some work.
When Halloween came and all the third years and up went to Hogsmead, Harry had to stay back. He spent much of his time in the library, getting ahead in his schoolwork and looking up more information about divination and traditional tea reading techniques. It didn't take long for him to get his fill of that though, so he made his way back to the common room.
On his way back he was intercepted by Professor Lupin who asked for his help with moving the new grindylow he had acquired into his office. The grindylow was a kind of water monster, with lizard-like scales, wide black eyes and long thin fingers. Professor Lupin explained that they tried to grab swimmers and drown them in the kelp field they preferred to live in.
"Their fingers are stronger than they look, but their grip can be broken with magic easily enough." Lupin explained. "Once they've failed to catch you they usually back off. They aren't really evil creatures, and if you learn mermish you can make friends with them. But their first impulse whenever they see something swim past their kelp is to grab it and drag it down. Would you like some tea Harry? I promise it won't have any leaves in it."
"Too bad I might be able to use the practice." Harry accepted. That caught Professor Lupin's interest and soon the two of them were chatting about Harry's divination theories. Lupin was obviously skeptical. He, like McGonagall, had written off the subject as almost useless. But he took Harry seriously as he spoke.
The longer their conversation went on the more Harry found himself liking the professor. He didn't speak down to Harry, or dismiss his ideas just because he was young. He might have been the first adult to really take Harry seriously, other than maybe Professor Dumbledore but it was hard to tell if Dumbledore took anyone or anything all that seriously. Before long Harry found himself talking rather casually with Lupin.
"Why did you stop me from facing the boggart?" Harry suddenly asked after Lupin had briefly praised how well Harry had dealt with the Red Caps a few lessons back. He hadn't expected himself to, but since he was feeling so comfortable around the older man the question just sort of slipped out.
"Well for one thing I didn't want Lord Voldemort to just show up in the teachers' break room." Lupin answered just as casually. "For another I've heard about what happened last year so I know you've got no trouble facing your fears, better to let Neville have a chance to finish it off. I think that did him a fair bit of good."
"I don't think it would've turned into Lord Voldemort for me." Harry said in return, a little shaken. Lupin was the fourth person Harry had ever heard use Voldemort's name, and he had expected him to avoid the question. "I was worried it might have been a dementor."
"That's very mature of you Harry." Lupin complimented him, "It means that what you fear most might be fear itself."
Harry wasn't certain he agreed with that statement. He didn't fear the sensation that a dementor forced on him, if he was honest he almost appreciated a chance to hear his mother's voice, even if it was her dying words burned into his subconscious by the trauma of her death. What he hated was how dementors affected him, that they could make him so weak and powerless. Harry had been so powerless in the Illithid colony all he could do was rely on Esharry to talk their way out. Just like how he had to rely on Esharry to keep his body safe when a dementor was about. He hated that sensation and never wanted to experience it again.
"Dementors are dangerous, but there are ways to be safe from them." Professor Lupin encouraged Harry as he sensed a black mood fall on the boy. "The magic that repulses them is a tricky bit of work, but if you can do it, it will never fail you."
"It seems odd to have a spell designed just to counter one dangerous creature." Harry said desperate to change the subject. "Especially a spell like riddikulus just to make a boggart less scary. Seems it might be easier just to blast them with something to get rid of them outright."
"Almost all spells have a plethora of uses if you're clever with them." Professor Lupin allowed the conversation to shift. "Riddikulus actually works on any kind of shape changer, even a wizard who's taken polyjuice potion can be made a fool of with that charm. It's one of the few ways to prove that someone has taken the stuff. The patronus charm can also be used to send messages almost instantly over not inconsiderable distances, though it's difficult to get a reply from the recipient, and they only recite their message once so if the recipient is distracted or can't hear properly it might be missed. And while you could just blast a boggart it would be a cruel thing to do."
"What makes it cruel? If something attacks you wouldn't it be fair to blast them away?" Harry asked.
"But a boggart isn't attacking you." Lupin explained. "It's just trying to scare you away so it can go back to resting in the nice cramped dark place it found to live in. Boggarts don't chase people and very rarely harm them. They just scare them to frighten them off. Burst a boggart with the riddikulus charm and they'll put themselves back together in a place more convenient in a month or two. In fact the ministry once had a sealed off cave filled with cupboards, chests of drawers and moldy closets prepared for them far far away from where anyone would ever bother them. Over five hundred boggarts have moved into that cave, almost half of those that live in Great Britain. It's worked out very well for everyone."
Further discussion was cut off by the arrival of Professor Snape, who had a potion for Lupin to drink. Lupin said it helped him with a condition he suffered from. It confirmed to Harry that Lupin was a brave man indeed. Harry certainly lacked the courage to drink anything that Snape had brewed. And Lupin held the defense against the dark arts post that everyone knew Snape badly wanted to teach himself. Harry was filled with an almost irrational desire to smash that potion in case it had been poisoned. But Lupin drank it quickly without comment. After that Harry returned to Gryffindor tower to await the return of his friends.
Ron and Hermione were full of stories about all they had done in Hogsmeade and the many sights they had seen. They had gone to all the best stores, like the candy shop: Honeydukes and Zonko's Joke Shop. They had seen warlocks, hags, and even an ogre at the Three Broomsticks inn, where they had enjoyed the warning taste of butter beer. They had gone to the magical post office and seen the hundreds of owls ready to take a message anywhere in the world. They had even gone to the Shrieking Shack, supposedly the most haunted place in all of England.
That last one sounded especially impressive to Harry considering just how many ghosts called just Hogwarts their home. There were the four house ghosts like Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor house ghost who's beheading had been botched so his head was still connected to his neck by a thin strip of skin and muscle. There was the prankster poltergeist: Peeves, the bane of caretaker Filch's existence, and the cause of half the delays that any class might suffer throughout the year. They even had a ghost teacher, Professor Binns who taught history of magic. And there were what seemed like a dozen other ghosts tied to the castle because of things that had happened to them when they were students here. Like Moaning Myrtle who haunted the second floor girls bathroom where she had been killed by Tom Riddle over fifty years ago now.
Harry had thought that hearing of everything his friends had done would've made him feel jealous and miserable over not going, but he wasn't. The sight of how happy and excited his best friends were drove any unpleasant or self pitying thought out of his head. The fact his friends had brought him a small treasure trove of sweets, food and jokes as souvenirs certainly helped as well. In fact that touched his heart more than he would've expected it to. Harry felt an urge to tear up at what his friends had done for him which he only barely fought down. It all blindsided him.
I know you don't think about money but you are somewhat aware of it. Esharry commented as Harry wondered where that all had come from as they all made their way down to the Halloween Feast. Neither Ron nor Hermione ever have much pocket money. Ron's family doesn't have much period, and while Hermione's parents are successful dentists they only ever convert as much wizard money as they need for her education. It is a big sacrifice on their parts, you do well to be grateful.
Harry knew that. It always moved him when his friends went out of their way for him. But he had never been this affected by it. It was like this display in particular touched something raw in him. Esharry made no further comment, but by then the feast had started and Harry had other things to occupy him.
Harry had never had a bad meal at Hogwarts but even by the school's high standards this feast was excellent. The food was perfect, and the Hogwarts ghosts put on a display of precision flying for mid meal entertainment. At the end of it, Nearly-Headless Nick himself took center stage to perform a rendition of his own beheading to the delight of all. Afterwards he joined the Gryffindor's for conversation.
"Nick, what are the ghosts over at the Shrieking Shack like?" Harry asked after the ghost floated over an empty seat near him.
"I'm afraid I don't know for certain." Nick denied. "I've never been there. But I've heard from reliable sources that they are a wild and rough sort of bunch."
"Don't tell me a Gryffindor ghost is scared of them?" Ron cut in. "Not even a basilisk could hurt you, Nick, what have you got to worry about?"
"I'm certainly not scared of them." Nick said in an offended tone of voice. "But it would hardly do for a respectable spectral citizen such as myself to be seen with such a disreputable bunch. Now if you want to know some reputable if rough kinds of ghosts I have some suggestions."
Nearly-Headless Nick spent the rest of the meal regaling them with stories of the various wizard knights he had known of over the years, the tragic ends they had often come to, and their escapades as ghosts afterwards. It was a far more entertaining history lesson than they had ever gotten from Professor Binns. It was also astounding to hear of how often wizards and witches got caught up in the wars of muggle kings back before the statute of secrecy was implemented. By the time the feast was done, Nick had every Gryffindor, and most of the other students wrapped up in his tales and it was almost a shame to have to retire to bed.
This proved more difficult than Harry would've expected. There was a large crowd blocking the entrance to Gryffindor tower. Even Percy couldn't get the crowd cleared and by the time Harry got to the front of the crowd, Professor Dumbledore had been summoned. Harry was just about to demand to know what was the hold up when he saw for himself what had left everyone speechless.
The entrance to Gryffindor tower was blocked by a magical painting of a very large woman, warmly known as the Fat Lady. Since it was a magical painting the Fat Lady could move, speak and even travel to other paintings around her or other portraits of herself located in other places. Only she could open the door to Gryffindor tower and would only do so if the person asking entrance knew the password she had made up for that term.
But the Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen. Her painting was in tatters as if someone had attacked it with a ragged pair of scissors. All the portraits around the hall looked shocked and horrified.
"Send word to Master Filch." Dumbledore ordered. "The Fat Lady must've run away to some other painting when she was attacked, we must find her and coax her back here." The professor turned to the other pieces of artwork and addressed them: "Did anyone see what happened here?"
The paintings were hesitant to reply as if their answer was too terrible to speak. But there was one other witness. Peeves the Poltergeist floated through the wall taunting the assembled crowd that he knew something they didn't. But while Peeves tormented students and flaunted teachers and rules as wished, Dumbledore was not a power he wished to trifle with.
"The Fat Lady wouldn't open up for him your headship." Peeves explained. "He didn't know her password and so she stood her ground even when he threatened her with a knife. Eventually he got mad enough to attack her painting and chase her off. I always knew that one had a terrible temper hidden away. Doesn't surprise me at all to know that he turned out so violent. That Sirius Black."
Peeves's words shocked the crowd into silence. Harry could hardly believe it. Black was risking everything by coming to Hogwarts. Dementors would hound him searching the countryside for him and he placed himself directly under Dumbledore's nose whom he had no hope of overcoming or escaping from should the old powerful wizard corner him. It was suicidal. And the only reason that Harry could conceive of as to why he would do it, was that the ministry was correct and Black had come to hunt Harry himself.
Dumbledore recovered quickly from this bombshell and swiftly commanded that the Gryffindors return to the great hall. Several bright flashes of light shot from his wand and rocketed down the hall in different directions as he led them back himself. They had not gotten far when Professor McGonagall joined them looking furious and worried. As Dumbledore lead them from the front she dropped back to rear where she could watch over her lions like a mother hawk. The Gryffindor prefects along with sixth and seventh year students took up positions on the outer edges of the mass of students, keeping their younger fellows towards the center where they could be more easily guarded.
Ron and Hermione took up flanking positions on either side of Harry. Ron kept one hand on Harry so he could throw him to the ground at the first sign of spells flying, the other he kept on his own wand though he didn't draw it yet. Hermione had hers out and ready to use at a moment's notice.
Not long after they had reached the great hall all the other students and teachers began to arrive. Everyone had been escorted in much the same way the Gryffindors had, with at least two teachers to a house and the older students standing guard. The school ghosts began floating in through the walls, floor and ceiling to report that all the rooms and corridors immediately around the great hall were clear. Dumbledore fired one last bolt of white light towards the fireplace of the great hall that vanished in a flash of green, and then he addressed everyone.
"I'm sorry to have interrupted all your evenings but it seems there's been an intruder in the school." Dumbledore announced which made everyone that hadn't heard Peeves's announcement chatter nervously. "I must ask that you all remain here for the time being while the staff and I search the castle to make sure it is safe. I'm leaving the Head Boy, Girl and the house ghosts in charge here. Please listen to your prefects and stay safe. You all may need this as well."
With two flicks of his wand, Dumbledore cleared aside the tables and chairs and made a mass of sleeping bags appear for the students to use. Harry noticed that the tables and chairs had been piled up in a way that anyone could quickly rush behind them and have a nice protective barricade that would keep them safe from anyone standing near one of the entrances to the hall. The old man was taking things very seriously indeed.
Harry, Ron and Hermione grabbed bags for themselves and settled near one of these barricades where they could throw themselves to safety in a short order. Though from the look of his friends they intended to throw Harry behind the barricade and then join any fight that took place. Harry sighed in exasperation about their over protectiveness, but they both just shrugged in a resigned way and didn't change their behavior in the least. Harry again felt a deep swelling of affection for them both and so made no further protest. Besides he had to admit that if Black did try and force his way in here it would be to try and kill him and so keeping him safe might well keep everyone safe by focusing Black's attention on the prepared defenses.
About twenty minutes after the professors had left, just as Percy Weasley started trying to calm everyone down to sleep the great fireplace turned green and several witches and wizards began to arrive by floo powder. All of them were in what Harry recognized as ministry uniforms, had their wands out, and looked very serious. Ron gasped at the sight of them.
"That's Amelia Bones, the head of the department of magical law enforcement." Ron exclaimed indicating the somewhat older witch who was leading the group that had arrived. "My dad has had to work with her in the past. Those folks with her must be aurors."
"They must be what?" Harry asked.
"Specialists in fighting dark wizards." Ron explained. "They're the ministry's top fighters, the ones they call in to deal with the most dangerous stuff or to take on hit wizards and other skilled fighters that have gone bad."
"How did they get here so fast?" Hermione wondered.
"Same way all the other teachers knew to bring the students here." Harry guessed. "Those flashes of light Professor Dumbledore sent off, they must be some way of magically delivering messages."
As Madam Bones made here way across the room Percy intercepted her, introduced himself as Head Boy and explained the situation.
"One of the portraits that guards Gryffindor tower was attacked when someone tried to break in." He reported rapidly. "Our poltergeist witnessed the attack and said it was Sirius Black. Professor Dumbledore is searching the area around the tower looking for him or anything else he might have done while here. We've done a head count, all the students are here and safe."
"Good work Mr. Weasley." Madam Bones accepted the report and then turned to her own people. "Shacklebolt, pick four and set up a guard here I don't want anything to happen to these students, work with young Percy here to maintain control. Yaxley, take two out with you to the grounds and check in with the dementor's handlers. I want a perimeter around the castle nothing gets out of here without us knowing about it. Take any extras you have and start a general search of everything from here Hogsmead and the heart of the Forbidden Forest. Everyone else is with me. I doubt Black stayed around long once he failed to get what he was after but we must secure the castle before we go hunting for him. He won't slip through our fingers this time."
Shacklebolt and Yaxley didn't wait to hear the rest of her orders once they had their own. In short order, five aurors were checking all the entrances to shore up their magical defenses. Meanwhile Yaxley threw open a window, conjured a wide plank of wood, put a hover charm on it and then he and his two compatriots started gliding directly down to the grounds below. Shortly thereafter Madam Bones had gone to add her remaining half dozen aurors to the search.
The night dragged on after that. The aurors patrolled the perimeter of the students, checking doors, windows, vents and even the fireplace they had entered from to make sure nothing was trying to break or sneak in. Prefects went amongst the students urging people to be quiet and go to sleep, though most only stayed quiet until they had passed. Ghosts occasionally drifted in to deliver an update to Percy and auror Shacklebolt.
Conversation around Harry mostly focused on trying to guess what Black was after, and how he had broken in. Hermione shot down most of the latter sort of speculation by pointing out that according to the book Hogwarts: A History, the school was safe from most forms of infiltration. Harry let himself focus on the words around him to distract himself from his own thoughts.
Around three in the morning, Dumbledore and Madam Bones returned and spoke with Percy and Professor Snape. No sign had been seen of Black anywhere in the castle. Though the Fat Lady had been found, safe if badly shaken by the events and she had confirmed it had been Black who attacked her.
"Do you have any idea how he might have gotten in?" Madam Bones asked Dumbledore.
"Many," Dumbledore answered. "Each is less likely than the last."
"He could've gotten in easily with some help." Snape said darkly.
"Yes he could've." Madam Bones agreed and then responded with a sneer, "Have any of your old friends been in contact with you lately Snape?"
"None of my staff would ever even consider helping someone like Black." Dumbledore denied.
"What about-" Snape started.
"Not even him." Dumbledore pressed. "They might have been friends when they were young Severus, but that only makes Black's betrayal all the harder on him. He might be the only person in this castle that hates Black more than you do."
Snape grunted but didn't press the subject, so Dumbledore turned back to Madam Bones.
"I must thank you for your swift response, this is a very serious matter and I fear one likely to happen again." The old man said ominously.
"We're taking Black very seriously." Madam Bones replied. "I think I'm going to have some people stationed in Hogsmead, and I may need Hagrid's help searching the forest more thoroughly."
"I'm sure he would be happy to help." Dumbledore replied. "Would you kindly let the dementors know our search is complete and urge them back to the limit I originally set for them? I would do so myself but I find their presence most revolting."
"I don't like them any better, Dumbledore." Madam Bones replied. "And if I had my way they wouldn't be allowed with in twenty miles of even a muggle child let alone my own grand niece. But the ministry wants to make a show of force and I will back Fudge on this one."
Madam Bones departed after that exchange and Dumbledore left shortly thereafter. Harry was still rather stunned by all that had happened. As sleep slowly claimed his friends and those around him he was left with his own thoughts to deal with.
Harry could no longer cling to ignorance. Black was actually after him, and he was either brave or foolish enough to come for him despite the dementors hunting him and the protection of Dumbledore. If he had been crazy enough to break in once he would do so again, and next time he might have the passwords to get past the portrait defense, or would've found some way around it. The man was clever enough to escape from Azkaban; he was clever enough to get into a dorm room. Harry was in danger.
Well let him come, Harry thought. He had beaten evil wizards and terrible monsters before, he could deal with a man like Black if he had to. He wasn't going to be powerless in the face of a major threat again. But he had to be smart about this. Black could kill a dozen men with a single spell, and the protection that Harry's mother had left him with really only applied against Voldemort or those he was possessing.
Our psychic powers will help, Esharry encouraged him. And it will likely take him by surprise since it seems that other than Dumbledore and Snape, most wizards don't make the effort to shield their minds. The problem with psychic power is that it must flow through your brain to be used and overtime that will wear you out. Though how much and how quickly depends on what we use it for. I would say we can push enough power through the top of your brain to wield our telekinesis for about ten consecutive minutes at maximum strength before we run out. Whereas unleashing a psychic scream through the front of your brain will require at least a half minute to rest after each use if you don't want to pass out.
Harry nodded in understanding, these were limits but he could work around them. One good scream could end a fight since it could stun the target's mind, but if he would only get one shot he would have to choose his timing wisely. The telekinesis was much more flexible, Harry could get a lot done in ten minutes. He would have to start practicing with his powers, see if exercise could strengthen his mind.
It definitely can. Esharry confirmed. But we shouldn't neglect our other abilities either. Magic is highly versatile and the core of your power refreshes itself over time by drawing in power from the world around you. So long as you have a wand and the strength to lift it you can keep fighting.
This was true, but Harry simply didn't know enough good fighting magic to contend man to man with someone like Black. He knew some jinxes and hexes, but he doubted something like the bat bogey hex or the jelly legs jinx was actually going to stop Black. The only magic that he knew that he had any confidence in really hampering an experienced wizard would be the expulso curse to blast him, diffindo to slice him and petrificus totalus to bind his body, and only one of those could be used at range. He doubted he was going to learn anything more dangerous than those this year.
If the teachers won't give you what you need you'll have to teach it to yourself. Esharry surmised. And how was he supposed to do that? Harry wondered. The only place he might find information about the powerful and dangerous kinds of magic he needed was in the restricted section of the library which no one was going to allow a third year into.
So what? Esharry asked. You have an invisibility cloak, you can see any wards or magic they have in place to keep you out, and you can levitate to move without making any noise. So it's not like they can keep you out.
And Harry supposed they couldn't at that.
