Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees. headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.

'That's the Post Office –'

'Zonko's is up there –'

'We could go up to the Shrieking Shack –'

'Tell you what,' said Ron, his teeth chattering, 'shall we go for a Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?

Harry and I were more than willing; the wind was fierce and our hands were freezing, so we crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

'That's Madam Rosmerta,' said Ron. 'I'll get the drinks, shall I?' he added, going slightly red.

"I reckon he fancies her you know" I said, as we made our way to the back of the room.

"Probably" said Hermione, and we all laughed.

Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot Butterbeer.

'Happy Christmas!' he said happily, raising his tankard.

"We drink, to a Christmas that will likely be as merry as the Cannons are to bottle promotion" I said, laughing.

Hermione and I drank deeply, but Ron and Harry set their tankards back down. As I've said before, Butterbeer is the most delicious drink I've ever had, and it's incredible at warming you up!

"Really Ginny, did you have to do that?!" he said

"Yes, of course, it's funny and let's be honest, it's a while since we've shared any Quidditch banter"

"If by banter, you mean slagging off my team at every possible opportunity, then yes it has been, and I haven't missed it"

"Hermione, do you follow a team now?" I asked

"I quite like Pride of Portree" she said, "especially their Chaser Eva Smacktold. I think she's class, I've been trying to base some of my moves on hers"

"Yeah she's good, I heard Wimbourne are interested in her though, so you may not have her for much longer, especially as January is right around the corner"

"I doubt we'll sell her mid season. It'll be a summer move, if anything"

A sudden breeze got our attention. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub in a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak: Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic. In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table. I also ducked under the table.

We watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move towards the bar, pause, then turn and walk right towards us.

Somewhere above us, Hermione whispered, 'Mobiliarbus!'

The Christmas tree beside our table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways and landed with a soft thump right in front of our table, hiding us from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, Harry and I saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside ours, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and Minister as they sat down.

Next we saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

'A small Gillywater –'

'Mine,' said Professor McGonagall's voice.

'Four pints of mulled mead –'

'Ta, Rosmerta,' said Hagrid.

'A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella –'

'Mmm!' said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

'So you'll be the redcurrant rum, Minister.'

'Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear,' said Fudge's voice. 'Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us …'

'Well, thank you very much, Minister"

Harry and I looked at each other quickly and I could tell we were thinking the same thing. Why hadn't it occurred to us that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers, too? And how long were they going to sit there? We needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if we wanted to return to school tonight … Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to us.

'So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?' came Madam Rosmerta's voice. We saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he was checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice,

'What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Hallowe'en?'

'I did hear a rumour,' admitted Madam Rosmerta.

'Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?' said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.

'Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?' whispered Madam Rosmerta.

'I'm sure of it,' said Fudge shortly.

'You know that the Dementors have searched my pub twice?' said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. 'Scared all my customers away … it's very bad for business, Minister.'

'Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do,' said Fudge uncomfortably. 'Necessary precaution … unfortunate, but there you are … I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore – he won't let them inside the castle grounds.'

'I should think not,' said Professor McGonagall sharply. 'How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?'

'Hear, hear! 'squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

'All the same,' demurred Fudge, 'they are here to protect you all from something much worse … we all know what Black's capable of …'

'Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,' said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. 'Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought … I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead.'

'You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta,' said Fudge gruffly. 'The worst he did isn't widely known.'

'The worst?' said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. 'Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?'

'I certainly do,' said Fudge. 'I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?'

'You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta,' murmured Professor McGonagall. 'Do you remember who his best friend was?'

'Naturally,' said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. 'Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here – ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!'

Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him, and I punched him on the shoulder.

'Precisely,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course – exceptionally bright, in fact – but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers –'

'I dunno,' chuckled Hagrid. 'Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money'

'You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!' chimed in Professor Flitwick. 'Inseparable!'

'Of course they were,' said Fudge. 'Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him.'

'Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?' whispered Madam Rosmerta.

'Worse even than that, m'dear …' Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. 'Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm.'

'How does that work?' said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. 'An immensely complex spell,' he said squeakily, 'involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find – unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting-room window!'

'So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?' whispered Madam Rosmerta.

'Naturally,' said Professor McGonagall. 'James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself … and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself.'

'He suspected Black?' gasped Madam Rosmerta.

'He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,' said Professor McGonagall darkly. 'Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who.'

'But James Potter insisted on using Black?'

'He did,' said Fudge heavily. 'And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed –'

'Black betrayed them?' breathed Madam Rosmerta.

'He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His Master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colours as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it –'

'Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!' Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

'Shh!'said Professor McGonagall.

'I met him!' growled Hagrid. 'I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James' house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead … an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James' Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-KnowWho's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!' Hagrid roared.

'Hagrid, please!' said Professor McGonagall. 'Keep your voice down!'

'How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him –' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won' need it any more,' he says. 'I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it any more? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. 'But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friend's son! But when a wizard goes over ter the dark side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em any more …' A long silence followed Hagrid's story.

Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, 'But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!'

'Alas, if only we had,'said Fudge bitterly. 'It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew – another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself.'

'Pettigrew … that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?' said Madam Rosmerta.

'Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I – how I regret that now …' She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

'There, now, Minerva,' said Fudge kindly, 'Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eye-witnesses – Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later – told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing. 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you!' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens …'

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, 'Stupid boy … foolish boy … he was always hopeless at duelling … should have left it to the Ministry …'

'I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands – I'd've ripped him limb – from – limb,' Hagrid growled.

'You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid,' said Fudge sharply. 'Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I – I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him … a heap of blood-stained robes and a few – a few fragments –' Fudge's voice stopped abruptly.

There was the sound of five noses being blown.

'Well, there you have it, Rosmerta,' said Fudge thickly. 'Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since.'

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh. 'Is it true he's mad, Minister?'

'I wish I could say that he was,' said Fudge slowly. 'I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man – cruel … pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark, there's no sense in them … but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored – asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him – and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door, day and night.'

'But what do you think he's broken out to do?' said Madam Rosmerta. 'Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?'

'I daresay that is his – er – eventual plan,' said Fudge evasively. 'But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing … but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again …'

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

'You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the Headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle,' said Professor McGonagall.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of us took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers disappeared.

'Harry, Ginny?' Ron and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at us, lost for words.

I was lost for words myself. I of course, already knew these things, but hearing them retold with such gruesome details was sickening.

We both emerged from under the table. Harry gave one glance at all 3 of us, then took my hand.

"I- we- we need to get back to school before both of you" he said to Ron and Hermione.

Without any further delay, he lead me out of the Three Broomsticks, and back down the tunnel underneath Honeydukes. I didn't dare speak to him, his mind was clearly racing with very unpleasant thoughts.