THE HIGH PRICE

by peverell.magic

The ash began to bury his legs, enveloping him in its soft, warm embrace. Harry wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face in them, allowing the world to drift into the distance.

33. CHAPTER 33: THE UNFORESEEN ARRIVAL OF TH

CHAPTER 33: THE UNFORESEEN ARRIVAL OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR

As wisps of smoke gracefully spiraled upward through the chimney, the aroma of burning pine permeated the cozy common room. The logs in the hearth popped and crackled, their fiery embers sizzling and spitting against the aged, battered bronze fire-guard. Harry reclined comfortably in an armchair, propping his feet on the chair's arm, all the while gazing into the mesmerizing dance of the flames. In the periphery of his vision, he observed Hermione, her eyes fixed upon him, peeking over the top of the book she was engrossed in.

Dean and Ron, looking rather disheveled and bleary-eyed, descended the stairs in a sleepy stupor.

Hermione inquired, "How did your detention with Umbridge go?"

Ron's face lit up with a grin. "Haven't you heard?"

"McGonagall called it off," Dean chimed in, giving an enthusiastic double thumbs-up. "Apparently, she had a heated argument with Umbridge about it last Friday."

Harry found it intriguing. His mind fixated on the situation, and he kept his gaze fixed on the enchanting fire. It was puzzling; Umbridge had never rescinded any of the detentions he'd received from Snape, even the ones for inconspicuous acts of defiance and minor infractions.

Seamus bounded down the dormitory stairs, joining the conversation. "Umbridge can't dole out detentions and dock house points for practicing spells that we're going to be tested on this summer. That's just not fair."

Harry shared a knowing glance with Neville. Clearly, Hermione hadn't conveyed the intricacies of the situation to them.

Hermione offered some advice. "Well, we'll have her class again after breakfast. Just be careful not to allow her to provoke you into doing something she can genuinely penalize."

As the group prepared to face another day under the ever-watchful eye of Dolores Umbridge, the tension in the room was palpable.

"I still can't believe McGonagall called off your punishments," Seamus said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I heard Umbridge was absolutely furious. I bet she's even nastier than her usual self this morning. You should probably keep your heads down and not get involved."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, that'll be me. They're not even standing up for me."

Ron grunted, adding his perspective, "I'm not defending him. I believe in Dumbledore, and I'm tired of the nonsense that woman spews in every lesson. Professor Lupin was our best teacher, there's nothing wrong with Hagrid, and Fleur Delacour, well, she was quite attractive, even if she was a bit standoffish."

Harry suppressed a flicker of irritation. "You don't really know Fleur well enough to judge her, Ron. Not that it's ever stopped any of you before."

Hermione chimed in with some sage advice, "Well, you should probably keep those opinions to yourself, Ron. Umbridge is going after anyone who seems to support Dumbledore's side. Harry's doing a clever job of not openly disagreeing with her but still making his opposition clear."

Harry couldn't help but grin. "It's nice to be appreciated."

Neville nudged him, gathering his belongings as he signaled towards the direction of the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry nodded in agreement, mouthing "Katie" to him.

Harry trusted Hermione to handle the situation. If the others needed to practice, she would surely organize something. He leaned back in his chair, adjusting a cushion to provide some comfort to his lower back. "She can probably teach most of the spells if she has to."

A disheveled and bleary-eyed Katie made her way down the stairs from the girls' dormitories. Harry waved a couple of times until she stumbled over, smoothing her hair back.

"Good morning, Harry," she grumbled. "Are we going to breakfast now? You can tell me about your holiday and how you finally managed to get a bit of a tan."

"France," Harry replied. "I was waiting for you."

"Let's go, then," Katie said, tugging at her uniform a few times, shrugging, and bouncing toward the exit, her energy starting to awaken.

Harry swiftly gathered his belongings from beside his chair in the common room and maneuvered his way out from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady. The first-year students gathered outside instinctively moved away, giving Harry a wide berth as he exited.

Katie couldn't help but cackle. "Ah, vulnerable children, ripe for sacrificing in dark rituals."

The first-year students scattered back into the common room, startled by her comment. Harry grinned but playfully chided her, saying, "You're not helping, Katie."

Katie, with a wicked glint in her eye, replied, "If you ever become a Dark Lord, I'm volunteering myself as your Dark Lady. I love the way they scatter."

Harry, teasing her back, quipped, "I think you're more likely to get immolated by someone talking like that."

Katie froze mid-step as she approached a group of second-year Hufflepuff students. "Why would I be immolated by someone for being your Dark Lady?" She cocked her head. "Harry?"

Harry quickly searched for a good reason, feeling a bit trapped. "I mean, in order to protect my reputation, I'd have to do something about you, and everyone knows fire kills evil things."

Katie's brown eyes narrowed, but then a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Lovely weather in France, Harry." She sidled up to him, clutching his arm. "I can think of another lovely thing about France, too..."

Harry's stomach churned, and the headlines from that summer's Daily Prophet articles flashed before his eyes. Nobody was supposed to know. "Keep it to yourself, please," he urged, prying his arm loose but keeping hold of her hands. "Seriously, Katie."

"I will," she murmured, her expression more serious now. "But, in return, you have to let me come and sacrifice a few first years in dark rituals with you."

Harry couldn't help but laugh and, as they entered the Great Hall, began looking for an empty spot at their table. "It's a date."

Katie beamed, her enthusiasm uncontainable. "So much better than Madam Puddifoot's. Pink cushions don't really do it for me, but dark magic? Now that gets me hot under the collar."

"Have I ever told you that I sometimes worry about you?" Harry asked, his tone half-joking and half-serious.

Katie gracefully eased herself onto the scarlet and gold Gryffindor bench, taking her place across from the mischievous Weasley twins. With a grin that radiated a certain aura of devilry, the twins greeted her in their characteristic fashion.

"Morning, Dark Mistress," they chimed, their heads inclining in a low, exaggerated bow, almost causing their breakfast plates to topple. "What evil deeds have you planned for today?"

Harry, sitting next to Katie, couldn't help but join in, gesturing toward the timid group of first-year students clustered by the entrance to the Great Hall. "She's been scaring the first years. Look at them; they're so scared of her they don't want to risk walking past us to get breakfast."

The leftmost twin let out an appreciative sigh. "That's our Katie for you. They won't find respite until the Quidditch season kicks off."

With a twirl of his fork, the rightmost twin added, "It's high time Angelina organized tryouts, don't you think? Maybe you should have a word with her?"

Katie, a glint of mischief in her eyes, retorted, "Me? She's your girlfriend!"

The left twin wagged his finger playfully. "You're absolutely right, George. That's precisely why you should tell her."

Before more banter could ensue, Katie interjected, her tone teasing. "Hush, you two. I'll remind Angelina later."

"Yes, Dark Mistress," they responded in unison, once again offering their exaggerated bows. Fred, in his enthusiasm, managed to dip the front of his robes into his eggs, causing a burst of laughter from Katie.

Amidst the playful conversation, Harry took control of the platter of mushrooms, generously sprinkling them over his buttered toast. Suddenly, a disheveled gray bundle of feathers wobbled past his head, eventually collapsing onto the table before the twins. Errol, the Weasley family owl. Harry gently prodded the bird with the butt of his fork and offered it a piece of bacon.

The twins, however, seemed preoccupied by the letter that Errol had delivered. Their synchronized gaze followed the text as their eyes darted across the page, revealing their inner turmoil. "It's from Percy," one of them announced. "Does anyone have a copy of the Daily Prophet?"

In response to the twins' query, a flurry of newspapers appeared from various directions, offering a selection of pages to choose from. The twins, after quickly perusing the front sections of the nearest paper, passed it along the table, laying it between Katie and Harry.

Katie deftly retrieved the newspaper from the table and skimmed the headline with a discerning look. "Dolores Jane Umbridge, formerly Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and newly appointed Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts, has, in a surprise move by the Wizengamot, become the first ever official to hold the freshly created position of High Inquisitor."

Fred couldn't help but snicker at the news. "Percy decided to offer us some advice on the back of it."

Harry, with a hint of sarcasm, muttered, "How kind of him."

With an exaggerated tone, George mimicked Percy, adopting a high falsetto voice. "It's time to let trouble-making and running riot come to an end. Things are changing, and we must change with them."

Harry, however, felt a growing sense of apprehension as he continued to read the article. "I quite liked things as they were. Umbridge was drawing all the attention and making herself usefully unpopular without actually doing much damage. Now she's got some actual power to abuse."

Katie, concerned, pushed the paper closer to Harry. "Have you read this? The position of High Inquisitor, created by Educational Decree Number Twenty Three, also enjoys the ability to determine the sanctions scheme of Britain's education establishments courtesy of the following decree, number twenty four."

Harry realized the implications. "She must've written to Fudge over the weekend about McGonagall overpowering her and rescinding her detentions. Now we've got this to deal with."

He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, thinking, "This is because of Ron and Dean. If they'd had some sense and not been caught, this wouldn't have happened."

Fred and George exchanged worried glances. "This is ridiculous. With that foul woman in charge of punishments, who knows what will happen next."

Harry, ever the strategist, predicted the worst. "She'll throw anyone who speaks against the Ministry in detention. That's what will happen." He concealed a grimace, dreading the potential consequences. "If she's clever, she'll reserve the use of her power for situations in which it seems appropriate, but hopefully she'll be too zealous and just turn everyone further against her."

Fred leaned in over his plate of eggs, his expression serious. "Well, you know what this means, of course."

George played along with mock gravity. "I do indeed, brother mine. It means we will have to listen to Percy and... not get caught!"

The twins shared a mischievous grin and divided the remaining toast between them. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "You're incorrigible, but you really don't want to get caught, though."

Fred wagged his finger with a smirk. "We never get caught. We just get suspected."

Katie, ever the voice of reason, offered a cautionary note as she buttered her toast to make a bacon sandwich. "I don't think Umbridge is going to distinguish between suspects and culprits. She tried to get your younger brother and his friend put in detention for practicing spells that are in the Defence OWL. So, be extra careful."

With a theatrical flair, George chimed in, "Yes, Dark Mistress. We humbly obey."

Katie couldn't help but revel in her newfound power, looking down her nose at the mischievous Weasley twins. "As you should, lowly minions."

Fred joined in the playful banter with a laugh. "You're a bad influence, Harry. Look what you've turned our innocent Katie into."

Harry, with an innocent expression, raised his palms in defense. "I did nothing. She was like this underneath the whole time."

George gasped in mock astonishment. "Surely not. Not our Katie."

Fred shook his head, feigning disbelief. "All those Quidditch practice sessions in the rain. The times when she would lovingly hurl the Quaffle at us until she got her way."

George chimed in, "The threats to tell Angelina and Alicia if she didn't get what she wanted."

Fred continued the teasing. "No, Harry. I just can't believe it. I won't."

George wiped away fake tears. "And then there was the time she drank Firewhiskey after winning the Quidditch Cup and hid all our essential pranking supplies in Snape's office."

Fred corrected his brother, "No, that was us, George. Katie hid all our pre-prepared essays in McGonagall's office."

George sighed dramatically. "Sometimes it's hard to remember. She definitely warned the girls we'd switched on our date with them, though."

Fred nodded in agreement. "You have a point, brother mine. Harry, you might be right. We think Katie has been evil all along, after all."

Katie playfully brandished her butter-smeared knife at the twins. "Don't you three have some classes to go to?"

The twins, unabashedly grinning, replied in unison, "No. We're free all morning."

Harry, knowing the impending challenges that Umbridge's lesson would bring, remarked, "You'd probably best get going. Umbridge is sure to provide an interesting lesson today."

Katie couldn't resist a final taunt. "Don't want to be expelled for being late, do you?"

In retaliation, Harry shot her a half-hearted glare and made off with half of her bacon sandwich. Katie huffed, tugging the remaining half protectively to her chest as Harry sauntered toward the exit, leaving behind the lively banter of the Gryffindor common room.

Harry couldn't help but wonder whether Umbridge would escalate her oppressive tactics. As he roamed the corridors, he contemplated, "I don't think she realizes how unpopular she actually is."

Nev, stationed outside the classroom, caught Harry's attention. Harry poked his head into the room to find Hermione, Ron, Dean, and Seamus diligently practicing their shield charms. Ron had a faint, nearly invisible bubble of light surrounding him, while Dean conjured a bright patch of light the size of Harry's palm in front of him. A determined Hermione demonstrated the wand movements repeatedly, showcasing her dedication to mastering the spell.

Noting their progress, Harry stepped back into the corridor and asked Nev, "Did they leave you outside to guard?"

Nev responded confidently, "I can already do the shield charm."

Harry raised an eyebrow and cast a quick glance down the corridor. "No sign of Umbridge yet, then?"

Nev obliged by casting the spell. "Protego," he commanded, summoning a glowing demi-sphere of translucent, silver light that flickered into existence around him.

Harry noted the effort Nev had put into practicing. However, the spell was not flawless. The light quivered and shivered, causing the shield to waver. Small gaps appeared and disappeared on its surface, like ripples in a pond disturbed by rain.

"Not perfect yet, though," Harry observed.

The distinct click of Umbridge's pink heels reverberated down the hallway from around the corner, alerting them to her impending arrival. Nev hurried into the classroom, exclaiming, "She's coming!"

Harry followed suit, joining Nev at the back of the classroom. A handful of other students quietly slipped into the room. Finally, Umbridge made her entrance, her pink cardigan flaring out behind her like a cloak, and her bright handbag bouncing on her elbow. She greeted the class with a chilling air, her gaze fixated on them like a frog eyeing a cluster of flies.

A heavy silence weighed down the classroom, amplifying the unease of the students.

Umbridge, with her displeased expression, chastised the room. "Now, that won't do. That's not polite at all."

A few vulnerable-looking students at the front mustered the courage to mutter a meek, "Good morning, Professor Umbridge."

Umbridge continued, her tone rigid, "Today, we will be continuing with our reading. Please turn to the next chapter and copy out all the relevant, key passages at the bottom of each page."

A low groan of disapproval rippled around the room, with some students expressing their discontent.

Nev, unimpressed, muttered under his breath, "Anything that's not a picture a four-year-old could have drawn, then."

Harry couldn't help but share Nev's disdain for the textbook. He propped his book up on the desk and organized his belongings as if he were diligently working. In his mind, he couldn't help but think, "The only use Slinkhard's worthless compilation of nonsense has in defense is if it's hurled at your opponent. And that's only because they printed it in hardback."

Nev leaned in to share a whisper with Harry when Umbridge turned her attention to Dean and Seamus. Harry inquired, "What does it say?"

Nev divulged, "It says that if things carry on like this, then the only ones who are going to even pass will be us and Hermione. There's a list of almost twenty spells you can be asked to demonstrate, of which the shield charm is one of the simplest, and Umbridge isn't going to be teaching us about any of them."

Harry, although amused by the situation, couldn't help but smirk. "She might have a change of heart."

Nev, however, shot down that hope. "We had a peek at her lesson plan when we got here."

Harry's curiosity piqued. "That bad?"

Nev's face contorted with frustration. "Once we've finished copying out every written word from this...she's going to teach us to run away from our problems."

Harry's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're serious?"

Nev tried to suppress a chuckle. "Officially, it's called conflict avoidance and fleeing." He couldn't help but find it amusing. "There's a bit on iguanas, too. I thought we'd be free of those lizards once Quirrell was replaced and his pet was gone."

Harry couldn't help but smile at the memory. "I miss that iguana. It used to escape and hide on top of the cupboards. Parvati was terrified of it."

Nev blushed. "I was terrified, too."

Harry, teasing, reached out to pat Nev's cheek. "It was a big reptile, there's no reason to be ashamed. There, there."

Nev swatted his hand away, rolling his eyes. "You've been spending too much time with Katie."

Harry chuckled, sharing his observations. "The first years are almost as scared of her as they are of me now. Of course, they're not that scared of me, just a bit jumpy, but it's still quite an achievement, given I had to be accused of murder." He glanced toward Umbridge, who was scrutinizing Ron as he painstakingly wrote the chapter title one stroke at a time. "Can I have a look at that curriculum?"

Nev discreetly slipped a sheet of paper to Harry under the table.

Umbridge, however, interrupted their conversation with a reproachful titter. "The title is most certainly not 'A Hundred Ways to Let You-Know-Who Win, Mr Weasley.' You-Know-Who has been dead for more than a decade. We'll have a very long discussion about it in detention."

Harry pretended to be preoccupied with his work, his gaze dropping back to the list of recommended books. He whispered to Nev, "We can get some of these books out of the Room of Requirement. It'll be easy to learn them on our own up there, and I can help you if you struggle with any of them."

Nev nodded his thanks, and just as they were about to discuss the curriculum further, they were abruptly interrupted. Nev hissed, "Incoming," and snatched the piece of paper off Harry's lap.

The telltale sound of pink heels clicked closer, and Harry quickly devised a plan. He glanced around the room and, with a feigned expression of dismay, knocked his ink pot over his blank parchment, creating a clumsy spectacle of trying to save his work.

Umbridge, approaching the back row, paused by Harry's desk, and the cloying sweetness of her perfume wafted over him. She questioned, her tone accusatory, "What are you doing, Mr Potter?"

Harry held up the dripping piece of parchment, allowing the ink to slowly trickle down the page and pool into a puddle on the desk. He presented the ruined work to Umbridge with an innocent expression. "I spilt some ink, Professor."

Umbridge emitted a titter of amusement. "How clumsy of you. You'll have to start again, won't you?"

Harry maintained his facade and hid a grin. "I know. Would you mind vanishing the ink for me, Professor Umbridge? I'd do it myself, but I don't want to injure anyone by using magic in the classroom."

Umbridge, her self-importance evident, simpered. "I'm sure your attempt will be safe, Mr. Potter, but I'm glad you had the wisdom to ask for the approval of one more knowledgeable than yourself before attempting anything."

Harry played his role perfectly. "If you're sure, Professor."

He raised his wand, carefully maintaining the act. "Evanesco," he incanted, causing the ink to vanish from the desk. However, a spray of dark blue droplets splattered Umbridge's pink cardigan and shoes.

Harry's expression transformed into one of exaggerated concern. "Oh, Professor, I'm so sorry." He raised his wand once more. "Let me try again."

Umbridge, her patience running thin, responded tersely, "I think that's quite enough, Mr. Potter." Her eyes flashed with irritation, and her voice quivered. "Finish copying out the chapter, class. I'm going to have to go and change."

As Umbridge's heels clicked away, the door of the classroom thudded shut. The class, no longer under her watchful eye, burst into laughter.

Neville praised Harry's quick thinking. "That was brilliant, Harry."

Harry appreciated the sentiment. "Thank you." His annoyance with Umbridge's prejudices had been building, and this small act of rebellion brought him satisfaction. "One more comment about part-humans and how bad they are, and I might be tempted to do more than just cover her in ink."

As the lesson drew to a close, Harry trailed behind Neville, Hermione, and Ron, heading back to the common room. Neville waved the curriculum at the pair, and they engaged in a heated discussion, their voices lowered to hushed whispers.

Hermione prodded Ron in the chest, frustration evident in her voice. "Why can't you act more like Harry does, then? You don't see him in detention every day, and the Ministry's trying to convince everyone he's a murderer."

Ron, exasperated, fired back, "Because she deliberately tries to get me in trouble. It's not even close to fair."

Hermione attempted to offer some advice. "Well, you should just ignore her. Now you have to have detention with her, and I bet she comes up with something horrible for you."

As they approached the Fat Lady's portrait, and Nev uttered the password "Mimbulus Mimbletonia," granting them access to the common room, Ron's irritation persisted. "We can't just let her get away with spouting all that nonsense. She's poisoning the students against Dumbledore, and when You-Know-Who attacks, he'll take everyone by surprise. We won't even be able to defend ourselves because she just wants us to run away and won't teach us any magic."

Nev slumped onto a sofa, disheartened by the situation. Ron and Hermione joined him. Harry lingered, tossing his empty ink pot into the common room bin.

Ron voiced their frustration. "So, we practice the spells on our own."

Hermione pondered the dilemma. "We tried that. We'll just get detentions, and now she's in control of them. McGonagall can't overrule her."

Nev offered a potential solution. "So don't get caught. I know somewhere we can go, and she won't find us."

Hermione's curiosity was piqued. "Where?"

Nev shared a tentative smile. "It's on the seventh floor. You can cast all the defensive magic you want there, and she'll never know if we don't want her to."

Hermione, showing her practical side, inquired, "Will you help us with our shield charms? Yours is pretty good."

Ron, amused by the turn of events, chimed in. "I never thought I'd see you asking Neville for help, Hermione, but seriously, Nev, will you?"

Nev, slightly overwhelmed but willing, nodded vigorously. "Y-yeah. I'll try. W-we can go now if you want?"

Ron, eager to get started, patted Nev on the shoulder. "Let's do it. We can grab Dean and Seamus from the Great Hall on the way."

As Ron and Nev began to organize their plan, Harry decided it was an opportune moment to contact Sirius. He made his way up to the dormitories, where he retrieved the two-way mirror from the bottom of his trunk.

Whispering Sirius's name into the mirror, Harry watched as the familiar grey eyes of his godfather appeared. "Harry. You took your time," Sirius said with a hint of humor.

Harry responded, "I've been busy. Are you still safe under Dumbledore's Fidelius Charm?"

Sirius nodded. "Yes. I'm tucked up all safe and sound in this awful, dirty house where I can't do anything that might alert the Ministry to my location."

Harry smiled, a hint of relief in his voice. "At least you're safe. No Dementors in there, are there?"

Sirius replied, "Had a Boggart and a whole flock of Doxies to get rid of when Remus helped me tidy some parts up over the summer, but for the most part, this house is mostly danger-free. Just as long as you remember not to go in the library or to touch anything in a glass display case." His expression darkened. "Still hate this place, though. Nothing good ever happened here."

Curious, Harry asked, "What kind of house are you in? And what happened there?"

Sirius, despite his discomfort, managed a smile. "The home of a most ancient and noble family. I can't tell you much about it, obviously, but I can tell you that the Order of the Phoenix is using it as its headquarters. It's the only useful thing I've been able to do."

Harry, feeling slightly left in the dark, admitted, "I have no idea what the Order of the Phoenix is."

Sirius, looking somewhat surprised, inquired, "You don't? Why haven't you been told? Your father, mother, Remus, and I were all part of it in the last war. It's a group Dumbledore started to oppose the Death Eaters in ways the Ministry can't."

Harry's mind raced with the revelation. "Dumbledore's followers. It makes sense he has his own secret group. Snape must be one of them."

Curiosity piqued, Harry inquired, "What did the Order of the Phoenix do? I haven't talked to Dumbledore for ages."

Sirius explained, "Mostly we warned the Ministry of where attacks would come and guarded places of crucial importance. But right now, we're trying to make sure the Ministry opens its eyes before it's too late. Well, all the other members are; I just sit around in here disposing of dangerous artefacts and priceless family heirlooms." He then gave a far-off look and smiled slightly. "One day, I'm going to get that abomination of a portrait, too."

Harry laughed at the prospect. "Sounds fun."

Sirius, wanting to know what had been keeping Harry so busy, asked, "So why have you been so busy?"

Harry filled him in on the situation. "The Ministry appointed Dolores Umbridge as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. She's here to make sure we don't learn anything useful and to try and undermine support for Dumbledore in Britain's next generation of students. I'm making her life difficult."

Sirius, his face darkening, responded, "I've heard of her. She's a half-blood obsessed with trying to be as pure as possible. Hates magical creatures, non-humans, Muggles, and anyone who associates with them. Umbridge is personally responsible for some of the most bigoted pieces of legislation ever to pass through the Wizengamot, including a law that makes it all but impossible for Remus to get a job anywhere."

Harry felt a chill in his bones. "I know how much she hates anyone she believes to be less than human."

Sirius issued a stern warning, "Be careful of her, Harry. She's only a half-blood, but still managed to rise quickly through the ranks of the Ministry from obscurity to a position that's never been held by anything other than a pure-blood before. Fudge is a bumbling idiot incapable of seeing beyond his own aspirations as Minister, but Umbridge is a nasty, slippery piece of work with connections in all the wrong corners of the Wizengamot."

Grinning mischievously, Harry asked, "So openly embarrassing her in front of a whole class would be a bad idea?"

Sirius struggled to contain his laughter. "What did you do?"

Harry recounted the prank with relish. "I spilt ink everywhere, and when I tricked her into giving me permission to try and vanish it, I sprayed it all over her instead."

Sirius roared with laughter. "Good one, Harry."

Harry, pleased with his success, declared, "She didn't look very happy with me, but I did nothing wrong."

Sirius managed to suppress his smile, choosing instead to offer some caution. "It was a bad idea. Best to keep your head down until things get straightened out with the Ministry. We don't need to make things worse than they are."

Harry nodded in agreement. "I'll stay out of sight as much as I can. Plenty of stuff for me to quietly do."

A sudden, loud thud echoed from Sirius's side of the mirror, followed by a horrible shrieking noise in the background.

Sirius had to cut the conversation short. "I have to go. Use the mirror whenever you want. I've nothing else to do around here except try and think of new ways to destroy that painting."

Harry waved his hand in farewell. "Bye, Sirius."

As the mirror's image faded back to normal, Harry pondered, Perhaps I should ask him to tell me how he gets rid of the painting. It could be useful for figuring out how to strip away some of the more annoying enchantments on Slytherin's frame.

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